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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

Professor  Henry  J.  Quayle 


PRESENTED  BY 

Mrs  Fannie  Q. 

Mrs  Annie  Q.  Hadley 

Mrs  Elizabeth  Q.  Flowers 


THE  YOUTH 


DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 


BY 


IMBERT    DE    SAINT-AMAND 

\\ » 


TRANSLATED  BY 
ELIZABETH   GILBERT   MARTIN 


WITH  PORTRAIT 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 
1892 


PC  1 57. 2- 


COPYRIGHT,   1892,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS. 


CONTENTS 


PAGK 

INTRODUCTION  . .  1 


FIRST  PART 
THE   CAPTIVITY 

CHAPTER 

I.     THE  TEMPLE  TOWER 45 

II.     MADAME  ELISABETH , 52 

III.  THE  DEATH  OF  MADAME  ELISABETH 68 

IV.  SOLITUDE 78 

V.     THE  LAST  DAYS  OF  Louis  XVII 90 

VI.     THE   MITIGATION  OF  CAPTIVITY 110 

VII.     NEW  SEVERITIES. 135 

VIII.     THE   NEGOTIATION  WITH  AUSTRIA 142 

IX.     THE  DEPARTURE  FROM  THE  TEMPLE 149 

SECOND   PART 
THE   EXILE 

I.     THE  JOURNEY  TO  THE  FRONTIER 157 

II.     BASEL 164 

III.  VIENNA 170 

IV.  Louis  XVIII 183 

v 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGB 

V.     THE  EMIGRES 192 

VI.     MITTAU 202 

VII.     THE  ARRIVAL  OF  MARIE  THERESE 215 

VIII.     THE  MARRIAGE 223 

IX.     THE  END  OF  THE  SOJOURN  AT  MITTAU 236 

X.    THE  DEPARTURE  FROM  MITTAU 247 

XI.     THE  SOJOURN  IN  PRUSSIA  AND  POLAND 254 

XII.     THE  SECOND  SOJOURN  AT  MITTAU 268 

XIII.  HARTWELL 272 

XIV.  THE  END  OF  THE  EXILE  . .  287 


THE  YOUTH 


DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 


THE  YOUTH   OF  THE   DUCHESS   OF 
ANGOULEME 

INTRODUCTION 


IF  there  are  nations  which  have  not  glory  enough, 
there  are  others  which,  as  an  offset,  have  too 
much.  It  may  be  said  of  French  annals  that  in  this 
respect  they  sin  by  excess.  Our  illustrious  country 
has  three  legends,  all  of  which — the  legend  of  roy- 
alty, the  republican  legend,  and  the  imperial  legend 
—  occupy  many  grand  pages  —  pages  which,  how- 
ever, contradict  each  other  and  deprive  our  nation 
of  that  character  of  unity  which  is  as  essential  to  the 
life  of  nations  as  to  that  of  individuals.  The  adage, 
"Happy  are  the  nations  that  have  no  history," 
should  not  be  taken  literally.  But  the  fact  must 
be  recognized  that  nations  which  have  too  much  his- 
tory are  not  happy. 

It  is  the  misfortune  of  France  that  she  has  been 
divided  against  herself.  United,  she  would  have 
been  able,  as  in  the  days  of  Louis  XIV.,  to  defy  all 
Europe  and  repel  every  invasion.  It  is  singular  to 

1 


THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 


note  how  successfully  the  smallest  countries,  pro- 
viding that  all  hearts  beat  in  unison,  resist  the  most 
powerful  forces.  Switzerland  has  been  able  to  make 
itself  respected  by  all  conquerors.  The  Sun-King 
was  never  able  to  subjugate  Holland.  With  the 
troops  that  he  had  been  obliged  to  leave  in  Vendee, 
Napoleon  might  have  been  able  to  win  the  battle  of 
Waterloo.  If  account  be  taken  of  our  internal  dis- 
sensions, it  may  be  said  that  France  has  more  than 
once  been  vanquished  not  so  much  by  foreigners  as 
by  itself. 

When  one  passes  from  the  study  of  the  first 
Empire  to  that  of  the  Restoration,  a  new  nation 
seems  to  have  come  into  existence.  Neither  the 
flag  nor  the  ideas,  neither  the  passions  nor  the  mem- 
ories, are  the  same.  Two  men  of  different  countries 
are  less  unlike  than  an  imperialist  and  a  legitimist. 
What  community  of  principle  could  exist  between  a 
volunteer  of  1792  and  a  Chouan,  between  a  grenadier 
of  the  Imperial  Guard  and  a  soldier  of  Conde's 
army  ?  To  one  Napoleon  is  a  hero ;  to  the  other  he 
is  a  monster.  To  one  Waterloo  is  a  disaster;  to  the 
other,  a  victory.  To  one  the  Revolution  is  a  deliver- 
ance; to  the  other  it  is  the  abomination  of  desolation. 
The  same  words  do  not  mean  the  same  things. 
What  one  calls  fidelity  the  other  calls  treason.  The 
selfsame  act  is  characterized  as  virtuous  or  as  crimi- 
nal, according  as  one  looks  at  it  from  the  point  of 
view  of  one  camp  or  the  other.  Between  contradic- 
tions so  violent  as  these  the  historian  feels  in  some 


INTRODUCTION 


degree  those  anxieties  which,  during  the  Hundred 
Days,  tormented  Marshal  Ney,  the  bravest  of  the 
brave ;  he  needs  a  strict  conscience  and  great  calm- 
ness if  he  would  preserve  in  his  judgments  that 
absolute  impartiality  in  the  absence  of  which  history 
would  be  but  a  discredited  pamphlet,  like  every- 
thing else  that  bases  itself  on  purely  partisan  spirit. 

These  reflections  occur  to  us  as  soon  as  we  begin 
the  third  series  of  "The  Women  of  the  Tuileries." 
It  will  perhaps  be  said  that  we  are  inclined  to 
attach  an  exaggerated  importance  to  women.  In 
our  opinion  they  have  too  often  been  neglected  in 
history.  Without  deep  study  of  the  character  and 
life  of  Marie  Antoinette  it  is  impossible  to  under- 
stand the  Old  Regime  or  the  Revolution ;  and  yet  it 
is  only  within  the  last  twenty  years  that  history  has 
become  seriously  interested  in  this  most  touching 
and  interesting  figure.  M.  Thiers  gave  hardly  any 
pages  to  the  Empress  Josephine.  Nevertheless,  we 
think  that,  without  that  woman,  Bonaparte  would 
never  have  been  the  Commander-in-Chief  of  the 
Army  of  Italy,  First  Consul,  or  Emperor.  As  to 
Marie  Louise,  feeble  as  her  image  seems  at  the  first 
glance,  we  believe  that  her  career  illustrates  both 
the  culminating  point  and  the  decline  of  Napoleon 
better  than  any  of  the  commentaries. 

In  later  times  history  has  made  great  progress. 
From  science  it  has  borrowed  the  processes  of 
analysis  and  synthesis;  from  art,  the  feeling  for 
the  picturesque  and  local  color.  Michelet  said: 


THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 


"History  is  a  resurrection,"  and  this  motto  has 
become  the  watch-word  of  his  disciples.  They  have 
undertaken  to  revivify  not  only  things,  but  persons; 
not  only  bodies,  but  souls.  "In  history,"  said  Mgr. 
Dupanloup,  "  it  is  souls  only  that  are  interesting  to 
me.  Facts,  common  occurrences,  riots,  battles, 
victories,  defeats,  treaties,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing 
one  is  obliged  to  know,  but  all  this  amounts  to  little 
without  the  history  of  souls.  It  is  really  only  the 
history  of  souls  that  touches  and  illumines."  The 
developments  of  psychology  ought,  indeed,  to  inten- 
sify our  application  to  the  study  of  feminine  char- 
acters. The  new  historic  school,  inaugurated  by 
men  of  genius  whose  obscure  disciple  we  are,  has 
employed  the  methods  of  philosophy,  painting,  and 
the  dramatic  art.  Considering  that  the  life  of  peo- 
ples is  a  series  of  grandiose  dramas,  now  brilliant 
and  now  dismal,  it  has  undertaken  to  dispose  the 
scenery  and  light  up  the  stage,  to  bring  to  life  again, 
not  merely  the  principal  actors,  but  the  secondary 
ones  and  even  the  supernumeraries,  and  is  persuaded 
that  if  local  color  is  faithfully  preserved,  if  descrip- 
tions are  exact,  if  monuments  and  places  where 
events  took  place  appear  plainly  before  the  reader, 
if,  especially,  characters  are  studied  conscientiously, 
an  historical  work,  while  adhering  scrupulously  to 
truth,  may  yet  be  made  as  attractive  as  a  play,  an 
historical  romance,  or  a  novel. 

The  period  we  are  about  to  study  might  inspire 
an  artist  or  a  poet  as  well   as   an  historian.     We 


INTRODUCTION 


open  our  recital  in  the  Prison  of  the  Temple  on  the 
day  when  Marie  Antoinette,  leaving  her  daughter, 
her  son,  and  her  sister-in-law  behind  her,  departed 
from  it  to  the  Conciergerie ;  we  shall  end  the  tale  at 
Goritz,  in  the  chapel  of  the  Franciscans,  on  the  day 
when  the  Count  of  Chambord,  buried  at  the  side  of 
Charles  X.  and  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Angouleme, 
bore  the  white  flag  like  a  shroud  into  his  tomb. 
There  are  captivities,  exiles,  revolutions,  and  assas- 
sinations in  this  history;  dramas  in  which  the 
characters  are  courtiers,  soldiers,  and  the  people; 
adventures  that  recall  the  heroines  of  Walter  Scott ; 
tragedies  in  the  manner  of  ^Eschylus  and  Sophocles ; 
hosannas  and  anathemas;  smiles,  tears,  splendid 
fetes,  and  sombre  scenes ;  contrasts  to  describe  which 
would  require  the  powers  of  a  Shakespeare,  and 
lessons  which  would  have  been  worthy  of  the  elo- 
quence of  a  Bossuet. 

The  two  principal  heroines  of  this  period  are  the 
Duchess  of  Angouleme  and  the  Duchess  of  Berry. 
We  shall  try  to  group  around  these  two  princesses 
the  persons  who  play  a  part  —  either  with  the  Bour- 
bons in  exile,  or  the  Bourbons  on  the  throne.  One 
cannot  well  understand  the  Restoration  unless  he 
identifies  himself  for  a  moment  with  the  ideas,  ha- 
treds, and  prejudices  that  existed  at  the  time.  One 
needs  to  ask  himself:  "What  should  I  have  thought 
if  my  relatives  had  been  guillotined;  if  I  had  fought 
in  the  ranks  of  the  Vende*an  army  or  that  of  Conde* ; 
if  the  education  I  received  at  my  mother's  knee,  and 


THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULV.MK 


the  religious  and  political  principles  imbibed  in 
infancy,  if  ray  interests,  my  passions,  and  those  of 
my  family  and  friends,  and  my  entire  surroundings 
had  inspired  me  with  a  horror  of  the  French  Revo- 
lution and  the  Empire  which  was  its  continuation?" 
To  the  £migr£s  the  conqueror  at  Austerlitz  was  but 
a  crowned  Jacobin  —  a  Robespierre  on  horseback.  It 
was  he  who  had  prevented  repentant  France  from  cast- 
ing herself  into  the  arms  of  her  rightful  sovereign. 
It  was  he,  the  friend  of  Barras,  who  had  prevented 
the  Convention  from  going  down  under  the  weight 
of  public  contempt  and  indignation.  It  was  he  who, 
on  the  13th  Vende"miaire,  had  trained  his  guns  upon 
the  honest  people  of  Paris  from  the  steps  of  Saint 
Roch;  who  had  fought  beside  former  Septembrists 
and  the  gendarmes  of  Fouquier-Tinville.  It  was  he 
who  had  sent  Auger eau,  the  author  of  the  hateful 
coup  d'etat  of  the  18th  Fructidor  to  the  Directory. 
To  him  were  due  those  transportations  to  Cayenne 
in  iron  cages,  those  horrible  proscriptions,  described 
as  dull  guillotines,  which  were  worse  than  death 
itself.  It  was  he  who  had  assassinated  the  Duke 
d'Enghien.  It  was  he  who,  through  his  insensate 
ambition,  had  roused  all  Europe  and  left  France  far 
smaller  than  when  he  became  its  master.  It  was  he 
who  had  brought  upon  the  country  the  indignity  of 
invasion,  which  it  had  not  known  for  ages. 

On  the  contrary,  in  the  belief  of  legitimists,  roy- 
alty was  a  paternal,  tutelary,  civilizing,  and  repar- 
ative  government.  In  1792,  they  said  perfect  free- 


INTRODUCTION 


dom  had  been  granted  by  Louis  XVI.,  and  all  that 
had  been  done  since  the  time  of  the  martyr-king 
had  been  not  merely  useless,  but  disastrous.  If  one 
wants  to  know  what  the  legitimists  thought  in  1814 
of  the  Emperor  and  the  Empire,  let  him  re-read 
Chateaubriand's  famous  brochure,  Buonaparte  and 
the  Bourbons.  If  persons  who  had  received  favors 
from  Napoleon  could  express  themselves  about  him 
as  Madame  de  Re*musat  has  done,  what  must  those 
have  thought  and  said  who,  like  certain  of  the 
emigres,  had  always  been  his  implacable  enemies? 
What,  in  respect  to  him,  must  have  been  the  ideas 
of  the  orphan  of  the  Temple,  the  daughter  of  Louis 
XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette,  the  Duchess  of  Angou- 
leme?  We  take  sides  with  no  regime  and  are 
equally  averse  to  the  White  and  the  Red  Terror; 
our  aim  is  absolute  impartiality;  but  we  try  to  repro- 
duce faithfully  the  circumstances  which  surrounded 
the  heroines  whose  lives  and  character  we  wish  to 
retrace. 

The  Duchess  of  Angouleme  and  the  Duchess  of 
Berry  are  two  types  which  offer  a  singular  contrast. 
The  first  is  always  austere ;  the  other,  often  frivolous. 
But  each  had  generous  aspirations  and  patriotic 
sentiments.  The  heroism  of  the  one  is  grave  and 
religious;  that  of  the  other  has  something  pagan 
about  it :  the  first  is  like  a  saint ;  the  second  like  an 
amazon ;  but  as  regards  presence  of  mind  and  perfect 
coolness  they  are  equally  worthy  of  their  ancestor, 
Henry  IV.  The  two  princesses  represent  legitimist 


8  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

France,  —  one  on  its  grandiose  and  the  other  on  its 
gracious  side.  As  a  living  symbol,  the  first  personi- 
fies the  sorrows  and  catastrophes  of  royalty:  at  the 
courts  of  Louis  XVIII.  and  Charles  X.,  the  other 
means  youth  and  the  future,  radiance  and  the  dawn. 

A  perfectly  consistent  character,  free  from  incon- 
sequence and  contradictions,  as  well  as  from  the 
levity  and  fickleness  of  her  sex,  possessing  a  just 
mind,  an  intrepid  heart,  and  a  soul  without  fear  and 
without  reproach;  guiltless  of  a  single  bad  action  or 
wicked  thought;  counting  among  her  seventy-two 
years,  three  of  semi-captivity  in  the  Tuileries,  three 
years  and  four  months  of  captivity  and  unutterable 
anguish  in  the  Temple,  and  more  than  forty  spent 
in  exile,  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  is  assuredly 
one  of  the  most  majestic  and  pathetic  figures  in  all 
history.  As  Chateaubriand  has  said:  "A  weak  and 
suffering  woman  has  often  borne  as  heavy  a  load  as 
the  strongest  one.  There  is  no  heart  that  is  not 
moved  when  it  remembers  her.  Her  sufferings 
reached  such  a  height  that  they  have  become  one  of 
the  grandeurs  of  France."  The  just  man  of  whom 
Horace  speaks  has  no  more  energy  and  moral  force 
than  this  woman.  One  might  say  of  her:  Impavi- 
dam  ferient  ruince. 

The  orphan  of  the  Temple  pardons,  but  she  does 
not  forget.  The  tortures  that  crucified  her  youth 
have  cast  a  black  veil  over  her  whole  life.  The 
Tuileries  appears  to  her  only  as  a  fatal  spot  which 
recalls  the  mournful  days  between  the  20th  of  June 


INTRODUCTION 


and  the  10th  of  August.  During  the  entire  Restora- 
tion she  refuses  to  pass  Place  Louis  XV.,  the  square 
of  crime,  on  which  were  erected  the  scaffolds  of  her 
father,  her  mother,  and  her  aunt,  the  incomparable 
Madame  Elisabeth.  In  her  manners  and  turn  of 
mind  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme  resembles  Louis 
XVI.  rather  than  Marie  Antoinette.  Her  character, 
like  that  of  her  father,  is  a  mixture  of  goodness  and 
rusticity.  She  has  not  her  mother's  elegant  instincts 
and  feminine  charm.  The  society  of  the  Little 
Trianon  would  have  distressed  her  beyond  measure. 
She  thinks  that  the  crown  should  not  be  an  ornament, 
but  a  burden.  She  cares  nothing  for  theatres,  orna- 
ments, and  fetes.  Her  voice  is  somewhat  harsh. 
Piety  is  the  foundation  of  her  soul.  Nothing  equals 
her  faith  unless  it  be  her  courage.  Her  feelings  are 
deep,  but  not  sentimental.  The  romantic  side  of 
suffering  offends  her.  Annoyed  by  hearing  herself 
called  the  modern  Antigone,  she  mistrusts  what 
might  be  called  literary  tears  and  emotions  made  to 
order.  Taught  in  the  school  of  misfortune  and 
versed  in  all  the  palinodes  of  courtiers  by  hard  expe- 
rience, she  dislikes  to  make  a  spectacle  of  her  griefs. 
She  hides  them  in  the  depths  of  her  heart  as  in  an 
impenetrable  sanctuary,  and  confides  her  regrets  and 
troubles  to  God  alone.  She  thinks  that  a  grief  like 
hers  needs  neither  comment  nor  publication.  Noth- 
ing is  affected  in  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme,  nothing 
theatrical,  nothing  factitious.  All  is  sincere,  all  is 
austere,  and  all  is  true.  This  is  what  gives  that 


10  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOUL&ME 

grandiose  figure,  more  worthy  than  attractive,  more 
rude  than  gracious,  a  something  truly  noble  and 
imposing. 

The  Duchess  of  Berry  presents  herself  under  a 
different  aspect.  By  her  romantic  disposition  and 
taste  for  the  arts,  she  recalls  the  heroines  of  the 
court  of  the  later  Valois.  She  is  a  woman  of  the 
Renaissance  rather  than  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
A  worthy  descendant  of  the  Be"arnais,  she  has  his 
good-humor  and  his  valor,  his  gaiety  and  grace. 
Amiable,  good,  and  charitable,  unaffected  and  not 
conceited,  unprejudiced  and  not  spiteful,  fond  of 
room  and  liberty  and  sunlight,  half  Neapolitan,  half 
French,  she  patronizes  men  of  letters,  painters,  and 
musicians.  She  prevents  the  Tuileries  from  resem- 
bling a  barracks  or  a  prison.  The  court  is  brightened 
by  her  smile.  Louvel's  poniard  interrupts  her 
career  of  joy  and  pleasure.  On  the  dismal  night  of 
February  13,  1820,  she  is  sublime  in  her  sorrow 
and  despair.  This  widow  of  twenty-one  years 
excites  universal  sympathy.  She  is  flattered  and 
exalted  to  the  skies  when,  in  the  course  of  the  same 
year,  she  gives  birth  to  the  son  whom  courtiers  call 
the  child  of  Europe,  the  child  of  miracle. 

The  catastrophe  of  1830  comes.  The  Duchess 
of  Berry  is  not  disheartened.  In  spite  of  Charles 
X.  and  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Angouleme,  she 
plunges  without  hesitation  into  the  most  daring 
adventures.  A  reader  of  Walter  Scott,  one  would 
say  she  wanted  to  add  a  chapter  to  the  Jacobite 


INTRODUCTION  11 


exploits  of  Diana  Vernon,  Alice  Lee,  and  Flora 
Maclvor.  She  is  reproached  with  having  put  faith 
too  readily  in  the  promises  of  her  partisans;  but 
how  many  oaths  had  been  taken  to  her  and  her  son ! 
Is  an  imaginative,  an  emotional  woman  inexcusable 
for  thinking  she  is  still  in  the  age  of  knights  and 
troubadours  ?  The  legend  of  the  Duchess  of  Angou- 
leme  is  the  Temple,  and  that  of  the  Duchess  of 
Berry  is  La  Vendee.  The  daughter  of  Louis  XVI. 
all  alone,  sweeping  her  own  room,  mending  her  only 
gown,  escaping  as  by  miracle  from  a  band  of  jailers 
and  tormentors;  and  the  mother  of  the  Count  of 
Chambord,  disguising  herself  as  a  servant,  walking 
barefoot  through  a  crowd  of  spies  and  gendarmes, 
crouching  for  sixteen  consecutive  hours  without 
eating  and  almost  without  breathing  in  the  nar- 
row hiding-place  of  the  house  of  the  Demoiselles 
Duguigny,  at  Nantes,  both  affect  the  heart  with 
tenderness  and  pity. 

To  the  end  of  their  lives  the  Duchess  of  Angou- 
leme  and  the  Duchess  of  Berry  retained  their  char- 
acteristics and  ways  of  doing  things.  In  her  latest 
exiles,  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  was  what  she 
had  been  in  the  Temple  and  the  Tuileries,  an  august 
princess,  a  noble  Christian,  a  saint.  The  mother  of 
the  Count  of  Chambord  never  ceased  for  an  instant, 
either  before  or  after  her  misfortunes,  to  be  a  lovable 
and  attractive  woman.  Catastrophes  under  whose 
weight  so  many  other  princesses  might  have  suc- 
cumbed, could  not  break  the  springs  of  her  spirit. 


12 


Like  Homer's  Andromache,  she  smiled  even  amid 
her  tears.  When,  toward  the  end  of  her  career,  so 
fertile  in  vicissitudes  of  every  kind,  one  saw  her 
entertain  with  such  affability  and  grace,  or  was 
present  at  the  banquets,  balls,  concerts,  and  private 
theatricals  she  gave  at  her  palace  in  Venice,  her  wit, 
her  good  humor,  and  gaiety  caused  surprise.  Nobody 
could  imagine  himself  in  the  presence  of  a  woman 
who  had  gone  through  so  many  trials,  exiles,  and 
revolutions  —  of  a  wife  whose  husband  had  been 
assassinated,  and  a  mother  whose  son  had  been 
deprived  of  his  heritage.  No  princess  in  prosperity, 
no  sovereign  on  the  throne,  displayed  more  amenity, 
more  charm,  or  more  enjoyment  than  this  proscribed 
woman. 

Before  beginning  the  study  we  are  now  approach- 
ing, let  us  cast  a  rapid  and  comprehensive  glance  at 
the  career  of  the  two  women  who  are  its  principal 
heroines. 

II 

The  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  was  born  at  Ver- 
sailles, December  19,  1778.  Her  birth  nearly  cost 
her  mother's  life.  "Poor  little  girl,"  said  Marie 
Antoinette,  "  you  were  not  wished  for,  but  you  shall 
not  be  less  dear.  A  son  would  have  belonged  more 
particularly  to  the  State.  You  will  be  mine;  you 
shall  have  all  my  care,  you  shall  share  my  happiness 
and  lighten  my  griefs."  On  the  day  when  the 
young  Princess  made  her  first  communion,  her  father 


INTRODUCTION  13 


addressed  her  these  words  which  she  was  never  to 
forget:  "Remember,  my  daughter,  that  religion  is 
the  source  of  happiness,  and  our  support  in  the 
troubles  of  life.  Do  not  believe  that  you  will  be 
sheltered  from  them.  You  are  very  young,  but  you 
have  already  seen  your  father  more  than  once 
afflicted."  Trials  had  come  very  early  to  the  future 
orphan  of  the  Temple.  In  June,  1789,  she  lost  her 
brother,  the  first  Dauphin,  who  died  of  consumption, 
like  the  monarchy.  During  the  terrible  night  of 
October  5-6,  she  awoke,  all  in  a  tremble,  at  the 
moment  when  her  mother  was  escaping,  half-dressed, 
from  her  chamber,  while  the  populace  were  rushing 
into  it  and  thrusting  their  bloody  pikes  into  the 
royal  couch.  In  the  morning  she  was  at  Marie 
Antoinette's  side  when  the  Queen  was  forced  to 
make  her  appearance  on  the  great  balcony  of  the 
chateau  of  Versailles,  in  obedience  to  the  orders  of  an 
infuriated  multitude.  "No  children,"  shouted  the 
mob.  No  children,  .  .  .  as  if  the  madmen  dreaded 
lest  the  sight  of  innocence  might  lessen  their  fury. 
A  few  minutes  later,  the  poor  little  Princess,  in  the 
same  carriage  with  her  father  and  mother,  that  car- 
riage preceded  by  pikemen  carrying  the  heads  of  the 
murdered  body-guards,  made  the  fatal  journey  from 
Versailles  to  the  Tuileries,  vestibule  of  the  prison 
and  the  scaffold.  She  accompanied  her  parents  at 
the  time  of  the  flight  to  Varennes.  She  saw  the 
heroic  Dampierre  fall,  crying  as  he  died,  "Long 
live  the  King ! "  After  June  20,  1792,  when  the 


14  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

populace  had  invaded  the  royal  residence,  a  National 
Guard  said  to  the  Queen,  pointing  to  the  young 
Princess  as  he  did  so:  "How  old  is  Mademoiselle?" 
Marie  Antoinette  replied :  "  She  is  at  an  age  when 
such  scenes  cause  only  too  much  horror."  On 
August  10,  the  poor  child  left  the  Tuileries,  cling- 
ing to  her  mother's  hand;  and  in  the  narrow  box  of 
the  Logographe,  only  eight  feet  square  by  ten  feet 
high,  for  sixteen  hours  together,  in  suffocating  heat, 
lacking  air  and  lacking  food,  she  witnessed  the 
death-struggle  of  royalty.  When  she  was  confined 
in  the  Temple  she  was  not  yet  fourteen.  She 
entered  it  with  her  family,  August  13,  1792.  She 
remained  there  until  December  18,  1795.  Deprived, 
one  after  another,  of  her  father,  her  brother,  her 
mother,  and  her  aunt,  she  was  at  last  left  alone  in 
her  prison.  Subjected  in  a  place  of  anguish  and 
torture  to  the  rigors  of  solitary  confinement,  a  pun- ' 
ishment  not  then  inflicted  on  the  greatest  criminals, 
she  escaped  the  fate  of  the  unfortunate  Louis  XVII. 
only  by  a  miracle  of  moral  force  and  physical  energy. 
However,  the  hardships  of  her  captivity  were  les- 
sened at  the  close  of  1795.  Some  friendly  persons 
were  allowed  to  enter  the  dungeon  of  the  Temple. 
But  the  young  Princess  remained  inconsolable.  "  It 
would  have  been  better  for  me  to  share  the  fate  of 
my  relatives, "  she  said,  "than  to  be  condemned  to 
weep  for  them."  She  regretted  that  she  too  had  not 
ascended  the  scaffold.  It  was  decided  to  exchange 
her  for  the  Conventionists  whom  Dumouriez  had 


INTRODUCTION  15 


delivered  up  to  Austria.  But  exile  seemed  to  her 
no  sweeter  than  captivity.  "I  would  prefer,"  she 
said,  "the  smallest  house  in  France  to  the  honors 
which  everywhere  else  await  a  princess  so  unhappy 
as  I."  Some  one  said  to  her  just  as  she  was  cross- 
ing the  frontier:  "Madame,  France  ends  here." 
Her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "I  leave  France  with 
regret,"  she  exclaimed,  "for  I  shall  never  cease  to 
regard  it  as  my  country." 

She  arrived  in  Vienna  January  9,  1796.  She  had 
just  completed  her  seventeenth  year.  Her  beauty, 
sanctified  by  misfortune,  possessed  a  touching  charm 
which  inspired  respectful  admiration.  She  lived  for 
nearly  three  years  and  a  half  in  the  Austrian  capital, 
where  she  was  not  really  free.  She  wanted  to  rejoin 
her  uncle,  Louis  XVIII.  She  wanted  to  marry  her 
cousin,  the  Duke  of  Angouleme,  in  accordance  with 
the  last  wishes  of  her  father  and  mother,  while  the 
court  of  Vienna  proposed  to  give  her  to  the  Arch- 
duke Charles.  Their  object  was  to  detain  her  as  a 
sort  of  hostage,  and  use  her  marriage  with  an  Aus- 
trian prince  as  a  means  of  promoting  the  dismember- 
ment of  France.  She  defeated  all  these  combinations 
by  her  presence  of  mind,  firmness,  and  patriotism. 
In  May,  1799,  she  was  finally  permitted  to  rejoin 
her  uncle,  Louis  XVIII.,  at  Mittau,  in  Courland, 
and  in  the  following  month  she  was  married  there 
to  the  Duke  of  Angouleme.  A  caprice  of  the  Czar 
Paul  drove  her  and  her  uncle  from  this  asylum 
where  she  had  found  comparative  repose,  and  which 


16  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

she  left  in  January,  1801.  She  crossed  Lithuania 
during  a  wintry  storm,  amidst  a  driving  snow.  It 
was  then  that  people  began  to  call  her  the  French 
Antigone.  "Nothing  extorts  a  complaint  from 
her,"  wrote  Count  d'Avaray  at  this  period.  "She 
is  an  angel  of  consolation  to  our  master  and  a  model 
of  courage  to  us  all.  Ah !  how  well  the  daughter  of 
Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette  has  profited  by 
the  lessons  and  examples  of  her  childhood!"  This 
was  an  eventful  journey  for  the  exiles :  after  Mittau, 
Memel,  Koenigsberg,  and  Warsaw;  back  to  Mittau 
again,  and  then,  in  England,  Godsfield  Hall  and 
Hartwell.  In  1814,  a  gleam  of  light  appeared  in 
this  sombre  destiny.  On  Annunciation  Day,  March 
25,  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme,  who  was  then  at 
Hartwell,  learned  that  her  husband  had  made  a 
triumphal  entry  into  Bordeaux.  On  April  24,  she 
landed  with  Louis  XVIII.  at  Calais.  Her  long 
exile  was  at  an  end.  She  arrived  at  Paris  with  the 
King  on  May  3,  in  an  open  carriage  drawn  by  eight 
white  horses;  the  streets  were  strewn  with  flowers 
and  the  houses  hung  with  verdure.  Indescribable 
enthusiasm  and  universal  emotion  were  shown  as 
she  passed  by.  When  she  crossed  the  threshold  of 
the  Tuileries,  that  fatal  palace  which  she  had  never 
seen  since  August  10,  1792,  two  hundred  women 
dressed  in  white  and  adorned  with  lilies,  kneeled 
before  her,  saying:  "Daughter  of  Louis  XVI.,  give 
us  your  blessing!"  Overcome  by  emotion,  she 
fainted  away. 


INTRODUCTION  17 


This  pathetic  scene  drew  tears  from  every  eye. 
We  are  men  before  we  are  royalists,  imperialists,  or 
republicans.  Pity  belongs  to  no  party.  Napoleon 
used  to  say:  "Imagination  rules  the  world."  It  is 
certain  that  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme's  presence 
beside  her  uncle  exerted  a  moral  force  and  influence 
of  the  greatest  value  to  that  Prince.  The  conqueror 
of  Austerlitz  had  shown  France  the  majesty  of  glory. 
That  of  misfortune  made  its  appearance  with  the 
daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette.  Of 
all  the  persons  belonging  to  the  royal  family,  this 
holy  woman  most  impressed  the  crowd,  because, 
unlike  Louis  XVIII.  and  the  Count  of  Artois,  who 
had  been  abroad  during  the  death-struggle  of  mon- 
archy, she  had  shared  all  the  anguish  of  the  martyred 
King  and  Queen,  at  the  Tuileries,  Varennes,  and  in 
the  dungeon  of  the  Temple. 

The  Duchess  of  Angouleme  was  already  a  legend- 
ary figure.  She  was  at  Bordeaux  when  the  first 
Restoration  came  to  grief;  perhaps,  had  she  been 
with  her  uncle,  she  might  have  prevented  Napoleon's 
re-entry  into  Paris.  At  Bordeaux  she  made  the 
most  energetic  efforts  to  defend  the  royal  cause,  and 
even  the  imperial  troops  admired  her  firmness  and 
her  courage.  Nevertheless,  she  was  obliged  to  go 
into  a  new  exile,  which  lasted  only  three  months. 
On  July  27,  1815,  she  returned  to  the  Tuileries,  but 
this  time  with  a  feeling  of  profound  sadness.  March 
20  had  robbed  her  of  many  illusions.  The  recanta- 
tions that  went  on  during  and  after  the  Hundred 


18  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

Days  showed  her  human  nature  under  a  discourag- 
ing aspect.  A  Frenchwoman,  she  was  humiliated  by 
the  foreign  occupation;  a  royalist,  she  considered 
the  presence  of  a  regicide  in  the  councils  of  Louis 
XVIII.  as  a  disgrace  to  royalty. 

February  13,  1820,  she  was  at  the  bedside  of  the 
Duke  of  Berry,  who  had  been  stabbed.  "Courage, 
brother,"  she  said  to  him;  "but  if  God  calls  you  to 
Himself,  ask  my  father  to  pray  for  France  and  for 
us."  On  the  day  after  the  birth  of  the  Duke  of 
Bordeaux,  which  had  been  a  great  consolation  to  her 
afflicted  spirit,  one  of  her  household  said  to  her: 
"Your  Royal  Highness  was  very  happy  yesterday." 
"Yes,  very  happy  yesterday,"  she  answered  in  a 
melancholy  tone,  "  but  to-day  I  have  been  reflecting 
on  the  destiny  of  this  child."  In  1823,  her  hus- 
band's successes  in  the  Spanish  campaign  gave  her 
pleasure,  but  in  thinking  of  the  deliverance  of 
Ferdinand  VII.,  her  mind  reverted  to  the  sad  fate 
of  Louis  XVI.  One  of  her  letters  ends  with  the 
touching  exclamation:  "It  is  proved,  then,  that  an 
unfortunate  king  may  be  rescued." 

The  Duchess  of  Angouleme  had  foreseen  the  revo- 
lution of  1830.  When  Charles  X.  parted  with  M. 
de  Villdle,  she  had  said :  "  It  is  true,  then,  that  you 
are  allowing  Ville'le  to  leave  you.  My  father,  to-day 
you  are  taking  the  first  step  down  from  the  throne." 
She  was  travelling  when  the  King  signed  the  orders 
which  were  the  cause  of  his  fall.  She  was  unable  to 
rejoin  him  until  after  the  three  days  of  July.  In 


INTRODUCTION  19 


1830  as  in  1815,  fate  had  removed  the  only  woman 
who  might  have  saved  the  royal  cause. 

A  new  and  final  series  of  exiles  then  began  for 
the  unfortunate  Princess  which  was  not  to  end  with 
her  life,  for  she  is  exiled  even  in  her  grave.  At 
Lullworth,  Holyrood,  Prague,  Kirchberg,  and  Goritz, 
she  remained  what  she  had  always  been,  a  model  of 
resignation  and  dignity.  Chateaubriand  has  said: 
"  The  most  precious  moments  of  our  life  were  those 
which  Madame  the  Dauphiness  permitted  us  to 
spend  near  her.  Heaven  had  deposited  a  treasure 
of  magnanimity  and  religion  in  the  depths  of  that 
soul  which  even  the  prodigalities  of  misfortune 
could  not  exhaust.  For  once,  then,  we  met  a  soul 
sufficiently  lofty  to  permit  us  to  express,  without 
fear  of  wounding  it,  what  we  think  concerning  the 
future  of  society.  One  could  talk  about  the  fate 
of  empires  to  the  Dauphiness,  because  she  could, 
without  regret,  see  all  the  kingdoms  of  earth  pass 
away  at  the  feet  of  her  virtue,  as  many  of  them  had 
dwindled  into  nothingness  at  the  feet  of  her  race." 

The  Duchess  of  Angouleme  lost  her  husband  June 
1,  1844.  The  Count  of  Chambord  induced  her  to 
remain  with  him.  He  was  more  attached  to  her 
than  to  his  own  mother.  As  her  husband,  after  the 
abdication  of  Charles  X.  had  found  himself  King  for 
a  moment  before  abdicating  himself,  she  was  never 
addressed  except  as  Queen.  Men  of  all  parties  held 
her  in  profound  esteem.  Some  time  after  the  revo- 
lution of  February  24,  1848,  she  received  a  visit 


20  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

from  M.  Charles  Didier,  a  republican.  "Madame," 
said  the  traveller,  "you  cannot  possibly  have  failed 
to  see  the  finger  of  God  in  the  downfall  of  Louis 
Philippe."  "It  is  in  everything,"  she  answered. 
Her  interlocutor  was  struck  with  the  patriotic  senti- 
ments she  displayed.  "One  might  have  supposed," 
he  has  written,  "that  after  suffering  so  much  in 
France  and  at  the  hands  of  Frenchmen,  she  must 
hold  the  country  and  its  inhabitants  in  aversion; 
but  nothing  of  the  kind.  Strange  phenomenon! 
The  more  she  has  suffered  in  France  and  by  France, 
the  more  she  is  attached  to  it.  She  will  permit  no 
one  to  assail  it  in  her  presence ;  she  never  speaks  of 
it  herself  but  with  love  and  regret.  Her  last  wish, 
as  she  often  says,  is  to  be  buried  in  France.  Surely 
a  more  ardent  patriotism  was  never  seen;  such  a 
passion  for  one's  native  land  recalls  that  of  Foscari, 
who  adored  Venice  in  the  midst  of  the  tortures  that 
Venice  inflicted  on  him."  The  death  of  the  daughter 
of  Louis  XVI.  was  as  saintly  as  her  life  had  been. 
She  breathed  her  last  sigh  at  Frohsdorff,  October  18, 
1851,  aged  seventy-two  years  and  ten  months.  She 
was  buried  at  Goritz,  in  the  Franciscan  chapel,  at 
the  side  of  Charles  X.  and  the  Duke  of  Angouleme. 
This  inscription  was  placed  on  her  sepulchral  stone : 
"  0  vos  omnes  qui  transitis  per  viam,  attendite,  et 
videte  si  est  dolor  sieut  dolor  meus  !  " —  O,  all  ye  that 
pass  by,  attend  and  see  whether  any  sorrow  is  like 
unto  my  sorrow ! 

We    have    just    summarized    the    career    of    the 


INTRODUCTION  21 


Duchess  of  AngoulSme.    Let  us  briefly  examine  that 
of  the  Duchess  of  Berry. 


Ill 


Marie  Caroline  Ferdinande  Louise  came  into  the 
world  at  Naples,  September  5,  1798.  Her  grand- 
father was  the  King  of  the  Two  Sicilies,  and  her 
grandmother,  Marie  Caroline,  sister  of  Marie  Antoi- 
nette, Queen  of  France.  Her  father,  the  brother 
of  the  Princess  Marie  Ame'lie,  afterwards  to  be 
Queen  of  the  French,  was  Francois  Xavier  Joseph, 
who  was  Prince  Royal  of  Naples  at  the  time  of 
her  birth,  and  became  King  of  the  Two  Sicilies 
in  1825.  Her  mother  was  the  Austrian  Archduch- 
ess Marie  Clementine,  daughter  of  the  Emperor 
Leopold  II.,  and  aunt  to  the  Archduchess  Marie 
Louise,  the  future  wife  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon. 
The  infancy  of  the  Duchess  of  Berry  was  marked 
by  revolutions  and  catastrophes.  At  two  years  old 
the  little  Princess  had  already  crossed  the  sea 
twice,  flying  with  her  family  and  returning  with 
them  to  Naples.  In  1806,  she  departed  again  for 
Palermo.  Her  grandfather  was  then  reigning  in 
Sicily  only.  After  the  events  of  1815,  he  regained 
possession  of  his  double  sceptre.  The  destiny  of 
the  Princess  shone  at  this  time  with  the  most  vivid 
lustre.  In  1816,  she  espoused  the  Duke  of  Berry, 
second  son  of  Monsieur,  who  was  to  reign  under  the 
title  of  Charles  X.,  and  nephew  of  Louis  XVI.  and 


22  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

Louis  XVIII.     The  Bourbons  of  France  and  Naples 
thrilled  with  joy. 

On  May  30,  the  young  and  charming  Princess 
made  her  triumphal  entry  into  the  harbor  of  Mar- 
seilles in  a  gilded  barque,  manned  by  twenty-four 
rowers  dressed  in  white  satin,  with  blue  and  gold 
scarfs,  sitting  upon  a  crimson  velvet  dais.  The 
same  woman  will  be  tracked  like  a  wild  beast  six- 
teen years  later,  and  will  make  her  escape  in  the 
disguise  of  a  servant.  The  boat  advances  through 
a  forest  of  other  vessels  covered  with  verdure.  All 
the  windows  are  adorned  with  women,  flags,  and 
garlands.  Cannons  roar,  bells  peal,  the  whole  city 
rings  with  acclamations.  Marseilles  rivals  Italy  in 
enthusiasm  and  sunshine.  The  Duchess,  whose 
progress  across  France  has  been  a  series  of  ovations, 
arrives  at  the  picturesque  and  poetic  forest  of  Fon- 
tainebleau  on  June  15.  There  she  finds  the  royal 
family  at  the  crossroads  of  La  Croix  and  Saint 
He"rem.  It  is  a  day  of  enchantments  and  illusions. 
The  next  day,  Corpus  Christi,  the  impatiently 
expected  Princess  makes  her  solemn  entry  into 
Paris.  She  passes  through  streets  strewn  with 
flowers,  where  she  sees  temporary  altars,  triumphal 
arches,  and  memorials  both  religious  and  monarchi- 
cal. The  prefect  of  the  Seine  addresses  her  in  these 
words,  to  which  the  future  will  give  an  ironical 
contradiction:  "August  Princess,  issue  of  the  same 
blood  as  our  own  Princes,  tried  like  them  by  afflic- 
tion, triumphant  like  them  over  the  vicissitudes 


INTRODUCTION  23 


which  have  desolated  the  world,  new  pledge  of  their 
lawful  rights  and  of  a  return  to  principle,  behold 
the  intoxicating  joy  of  a  whole  people  whose  desires 
and  hopes  invoke  a  succession  of  princes,  doubly 
issuing  through  you  from  an  adored  race.  Increase 
the  happiness  of  an  august  family  whom  we  long  to 
see  flourish,  even  at  the  expense  of  our  lives.  These 
walls  were  the  cradle  of  your  noble  ancestors.  May 
they  offer  you  nothing  but  pleasure  and  happiness, 
as  they  will  never  cease  to  present  the  image  of  love 
and  devotion  to  their  sovereigns !  " 

The  marriage  is  celebrated  at  Notre  Dame,  June 
17.  Perhaps  the  ancient  metropolitan  church  has 
never  been  so  resplendent.  Paris  is  enchanted  with 
the  Princess.  The  Princess  is  enchanted  with  Paris. 
She  and  her  husband  install  themselves  at  the 
Elyse'e,  a  more  agreeable,  commodious,  and  gayer 
abode  than  the  Tuileries.  There  she  leads  a  happy 
life  and  looks  confidently  toward  the  future.  She 
does  not  meddle  with  politics,  but  dances,  amuses 
herself,  visits  the  studios,  the  theatres,  and  the 
court,  troubles  herself  very  little  about  etiquette, 
and  seems  more  like  a  private  person  than  a  prin- 
cess. But  gloomy  presentiments  very  soon  trouble 
her  youthful,  almost  infantine,  gaiety.  July  13, 
1817,  she  is  delivered  of  a  daughter  who  dies  the 
next  day;  September  13,  1818,  of  a  son  prematurely 
born,  who  lives  but  two  hours.  This  date  of  the 
13th  is  to  reappear  in  her  destiny. 

Paris  is  at  the  height  of  the  carnival  on  February 


24  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

13,  1820.  It  is  the  last  Sunday  before  Lent.  For 
several  days  balls  and  spectacles  have  succeeded  each 
other  with  extraordinary  animation.  The  Duke  and 
Duchess  of  Berry  go  to  the  Opera.  They  receive  a 
most  cordial  welcome.  The  representation  is  very 
brilliant,  but  the  Duchess,  slightly  fatigued  in  con- 
sequence of  a  ball  she  had  attended  the  previous 
evening,  leaves  before  it  is  over.  The  Duke  goes 
with  her  to  her  carriage,  but  just  as  he  is  about  to 
re-enter  the  hall,  he  is  stabbed  with  a  poniard.  The 
Duchess  hears  her  husband's  agonizing  cry.  Her 
carriage  is  still  before  the  door.  She  hastily  descends 
from  it,  at  the  moment  when  the  Duke,  drawing  the 
weapon  from  his  wound,  gives  it  to  M.  de  Me*snard, 
exclaiming:  "I  am  a  dead  man.  A  priest!  .  .  . 
Come,  my  wife,  let  me  die  in  your  arms ! "  The 
Princess  is  covered  with  her  husband's  blood.  She 
is  at  first  taken  to  the  small  salon  belonging  to  her 
box.  The  crime  has  been  so  quickly  done  that  the 
news  of  it  has  not  yet  reached  the  body  of  the  theatre. 
The  second  act  of  a  ballet  is  going  on.  Through  a 
pane  of  glass  which  looked  into  the  box  from  the 
salon,  the  dances  could  still  be  seen.  Joyous  music 
was  sounding  while  the  victim  lay  dying.  The 
King  does  not  arrive  until  five  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. "Pardon  the  man  who  stabbed  me!"  says  the 
Duke  to  him.  "  Holy  Virgin,  intercede  for  me.  .  .  . 
O  my  country !  .  .  .  Unhappy  France ! "  An  hour 
later  he  renders  his  last  sigh.  He  was  born  Janu- 
ary 24,  1778. 


INTRODUCTION  25 


Pregnant  with  an  infant  who  will  be  the  Duke  of 
Bordeaux,  the  widow  of  twenty-one  years  in  her  long 
mourning  veil  excites  universal  sympathy  and  pity. 
Persuaded  that  it  is  her  mission  to  give  France  a 
king,  and  religious  after  the  Italian  fashion,  she 
believes  herself  especially  protected  by  Saint  Louis. 
She  has  seen  in  a  dream  this  ancestor  of  whom  the 
Bourbon  family  is  so  proud,  and  he  has  promised  her 
a  son. 

The  Child  of  Europe,  the  Child  of  Miracle,  as 
the  newly  born  was  called,  came  into  the  world  at 
the  palace  of  the  Tuileries,  September  29,  1820. 
Royalist  France  experienced  a  delirium  of  joy.  All 
the  poets,  with  Victor  Hugo  and  Lamartine  at  their 
head,  composed  enthusiastic  odes  that  resemble 
hymns  of  thanksgiving.  On  all  sides  the  Duchess 
of  Berry  is  treated  as  a  heroine,  as  a  providential 
being  who  holds  a  rank  midway  between  a  woman 
and  an  angel.  The  chivalrous  and  sentimental 
rhetoric  of  the  period  passes  all  bounds  in  its  hyper- 
boles of  praise.  During  the  last  ten  years  of  the 
Restoration,  the  popularity  of  the  Princess  is  im- 
mense. People  say  that  a  more  amiable  woman  was 
never  seen.  Her  daughter  and  her  son,  two  inter- 
esting and  beautiful  children,  form  her  double 
coronet.  The  Orleans  family  show  her  a  respectful 
tenderness.  She  is  the  movement,  life,  and  anima- 
tion of  the  court.  Thanks  to  her,  the  Marsan  Pavil- 
ion at  the  Tuileries  becomes  an  enchanting  residence. 
The  little  court,  as  her  narrow  circle  of  personal 


26  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

adherents  is  called,  is  the  most  agreeable  and  brill- 
iant of  social  centres.  She  sets  the  fashion.  She 
protects  commerce  and  the  arts.  She  saves  the 
Gymnase  theatre  by  permitting  it  to  be  called  the 
theatre  of  Madame.  She  rides  in  the  first  omnibus 
that  comes  along.  She  makes  the  coast  of  Dieppe  a 
fashionable  resort.  She  is  a  beneficent  fairy  whose 
wand  of  gold  and  diamonds  brings  good  fortune  to 
all  whom  it  touches.  This  Princess  who  seems  as 
if  she  were  made  to  preside  at  tournaments  and  to 
inspire  the  chroniclers  of  the  Renaissance,  and  yet 
who  is  modern  by  the  eclecticism  of  her  ideas,  her 
scorn  of  etiquette,  her  kindly  familiarity,  her  bour- 
geois gaiety,  and  her  simple  tastes  and  habits,  smiles 
equally  on  imperial  and  royalist  celebrities.  If 
any  woman  could  disarm  the  hatreds  and  rancors  of 
the  most  implacable  enemies  of  the  monarchy,  it 
would  be  she. 

In  1828,  the  fascinating  Duchess  makes  a  tri- 
umphal journey  in  Vende'e.  The  defenders  of  throne 
and  altar  greet  her  with  acclamations.  Old  relics  of 
Catholic  and  royal  armies,  standards  riddled  with 
balls  and  worn  by  battles,  cemeteries  where  the 
white  flag  drapes  the  tombs  of  those  who  died  for 
the  King  in  the  battle  of  giants,  as  Napoleon  called 
that  formidable  struggle  whose  Be're'sina  was  the 
passage  of  the  Loire,  bells  ringing  in  every  parish, 
frenzied  cries  of  joy,  incessantly  renewed  ovations, 
all  excite  the  imagination  of  the  Princess,  who 
passes  through  the  region  on  horseback.  The  peas- 


INTRODUCTION  27 


ants,  seeing  how  fearlessly  she  manages  her  horse  in 
the  midst  of  the  discharges  of  musketry  which  salute 
her  as  she  passes,  cry :  "  Ah !  the  brave  little  woman ! 
that  one  isn't  afraid !  "  She  considers  every  peasant 
a  knight-errant,  who,  if  need  were,  would  shed  the 
last  drop  of  his  blood  for  her,  and  she  promises  the 
Vende'ans  that  if  fortune  ever  should  forsake  her, 
she  will  come  back  to  seek  an  asylum  and  confide  to 
them  the  royal  cause.  Her  journey  in  1828  will  be 
the  germ  of  her  expedition  in  1832. 

The  Duchess  of  Berry  is  valor  itself.  When  she 
sees  Charles  X.,  whom  old  age  had  rendered  dull 
and  heavy,  yield  so  readily  to  the  revolution,  she 
becomes  irritated  and  indignant.  On  July  29,  1830, 
she  is  in  the  upper  story  of  the  palace  of  Saint  Cloud, 
looking  through  a  spyglass  toward  Paris,  whose 
monuments  define  themselves  in  the  distance  against 
a  cloudless  sky.  All  at  once,  she  no  longer  sees  the 
white  flag  on  the  roof  of  the  Tuileries.  Another 
standard  has  replaced  it.  "Ah!  my  God!"  she 
cries,  "  I  perceive  the  tricolored  flag ! "  At  Saint 
Cloud,  as  at  Rambouillet,  she  entreats  Charles  X.  to 
let  her  start  for  Paris  with  her  son.  The  old  King 
obstinately  refuses.  "Very  well,"  says  she,  "I  will 
not  take  Henri;  I  will  go  alone."  All  her  entreaties 
are  in  vain.  The}r  keep  her  back  by  force.  The 
cause  of  the  elder  branch  of  the  Bourbons  is  forever 
lost! 

On  arriving  in  Scotland,  the  Duchess  is  unable  to 
endure  exile  beneath  that  misty  and  gloomy  sky. 


28  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

The  castle  of  Holyrood,  the  melancholy  abode  of  the 
Stuarts,  inspires  her  with  profound  repugnance. 
Moreover,  she  is  unwilling  that  the  Bourbons  of  the 
elder  branch  should  end  like  the  descendants  of 
Charles  I.  and  James  II.  Prudent  counsels  seem  to 
her  marks  of  weakness  and  cowardice.  She  quits 
the  society  gathered  around  Charles  X.,  because  it 
is  out  of  harmony  with  her  ardent  soul,  and  goes 
to  prepare,  under  the  brilliant  skies  of  Italy,  a 
kind  of  romantic  imitation  of  the  return  from  Elba. 
The  most  sensible  of  the  legitimists  vainly  seek  to 
dissuade  her  from  her  enterprise.  She  listens  only 
to  lovers  of  adventure,  to  hot  heads,  to  officers  who 
have  resigned  from  the  royal  guard  and  who  fret  at 
their  enforced  inaction,  to  penniless  nobles.  They 
tell  her  that  the  monarchy  of  July  is  dying  in  its 
cradle,  and  that  the  mother  of  Henri  V.  would  have 
but  to  touch  the  soil  of  France  to  be  able  to  say,  like 
Caesar:  Veni,  vidi,  vici.  She  believes  it.  The 
mirage  of  the  emigration  has  deceived  her.  She 
naively  imagines  that  she  is  going  to  be  the  greatest 
heroine  of  modern  times;  that  she  will  surpass  the 
glories  of  Jeanne  d' Arc  and  Jeanne  Hachette;  that 
she  will  be  able  to  reconquer  the  most  beautiful  crown 
in  the  universe  for  her  son,  and  thus  justify  all  the 
adulations  of  which  she  had  been  the  object  in  her 
prosperous  days.  Joyous  and  full  of  confidence,  she 
sets  out  on  her  adventurous  expedition  as  if  it  were 
a  hunting-party,  and  impatiently  awaits  the  danger 
which  has  charms  for  a  nature  so  nervous  and 
desirous  of  emotions. 


INTRODUCTION  29 


April  26,  1832,  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
she  embarks  near  Massa  on  the  Carlo  Alberto,  a  ship 
which  she  has  chartered.  In  the  night  of  April 
28-29,  she  arrives  in  the  straits  of  Planier,  in  Pro- 
vence. But  what  a  difference  since  the  day,  sixteen 
years  before,  when  she  entered  the  harbor  of  Mar- 
seilles in  such  majestic  pomp!  But  this  contrast 
only  stimulates  her.  She  finds  nothing  discourag- 
ing. The  rising  prepared  by  the  Marseilles  voyagers 
is  a  failure.  She  is  entreated  to  leave  France;  she 
refuses,  and  by  night  and  on  foot,  walking  silently 
under  a  moonless  and  starless  sky,  she  starts  for 
Vendee,  where  she  intends  to  fight.  All  her  pro- 
jects come  to  nought.  Instead  of  a  general  armed 
rising,  there  are  only  partial  movements  which  the 
troops  of  King  Louis  Philippe  easily  repress.  A 
fugitive,  hunted  by  the  police,  obliged  to  disguise 
herself  as  a  peasant  and  soil  her  hands  with  dust 
lest  their  whiteness  should  betray  her,  she  enters 
Nantes  on  a  market  day,  June  9,  1832,  with  only 
one  companion,  Mademoiselle  Eulalie  de  Kersabiec, 
disguised  like  herself,  and  takes  refuge  in  the  house 
of  the  Demoiselles  Duguigny,  rue  Haute-du-Chateau. 
She  will  live  there  five  months,  in  a  garret  on  the 
third  story,  using  a  folding-chair  by  way  of  a  bed, 
never  stirring  out  of  doors,  and  fearing  to  be  dis- 
covered at  every  minute. 

At  six  in  the  evening  of  November  7,  1832,  as  the 
Princess  is  looking  at  an  unclouded  sky  through  the 
dormer  window  of  her  garret,  she  hears  the  noise  of 


80  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

many  footsteps.  They  are  those  of  troops  coming 
to  surround  the  house.  It  happens  to  have,  and  it 
was  on  that  account  the  Duchess  had  chosen  it  as  a 
refuge,  a  secret  hiding-place,  an  old  relic  of  the 
Terror  of  1793,  which  during  the  judicial  drownings 
at  Nantes  had  more  than  once  offered  an  asylum  to 
fugitive  or  proscribed  persons.  It  is  contrived  in 
one  of  the  garrets  of  the  third  story.  The  wall  of  a 
chimney  built  in  one  of  the  corners  of  the  garret 
closes  it  in  front,  and  at  the  back  is  the  exterior  wall 
of  the  house,  on  which  rest  the  rafters  that  form  the 
upper  part  of  the  hiding-place.  The  back  of  the  chim- 
ney, which  may  be  opened  at  will,  gives  access  to  it. 
This  retreat  is  about  eighteen  inches  wide  at  one  of 
its  extremities,  and  from  eight  to  ten  at  the  other, 
and  from  three  to  three  and  a  half  feet  long.  The 
height  goes  on  decreasing  toward  its  narrowest 
extremity,  so  that  a  man  could  hardly  stand  erect  at 
that  part  even  by  putting  his  head  between  the 
rafters.  It  is  here  that  the  Duchess  crouches  down 
with  three  other  persons, —  Count  de  Mesnard,  M. 
Guibourg,  and  Mademoiselle  Stylite  de  Kersabiec. 
She  has  but  just  entered  it  when  the  garret  is  invaded 
by  soldiers  and  police  commissioners.  The  whole  house 
is  searched.  Sappers  and  masons  sound  the  walls 
and  floors  with  great  blows  of  hatchets  and  hammers. 
They  strike  so  hard  that  pieces  of  plaster  loosen  and 
fall  on  the  Duchess  in  the  hiding-place,  where  she 
listens  to  the  oaths  of  the  men,  who  are  tired  and 
furious  over  their  futile  search.  "  We  are  going  to 


INTRODUCTION  31 


be  torn  to  pieces,"  she  says  in  a  whisper  to  her  com- 
panions in  this  close  captivity;  "all  is  over.  Ah! 
my  poor  children !  And  yet  it  is  on  my  account  that 
you  are  in  this  frightful  position."  The  search  re- 
laxes. It  is  believed  that  the  Duchess  has  escaped. 
Even  she  hopes  she  will  be  saved.  But  an  unex- 
pected incident  ruins  all.  The  weather  is  cold. 
The  gendarmes  who  remain  in  the  garret  kindle  a 
large  fire  in  the  chimney  which  forms  part  of  the 
hiding-place.  Presently  the  wall  becomes  too  hot 
to  be  touched  by  the  hand.  The  back  is  reddened 
by  the  flames.  The  prisoners  are  threatened  with 
suffocation  or  burning  alive. 

Already  the  gown  of  the  Duchess  has  taken  fire 
twice.  She  has  extinguished  it  with  her  hands, 
without  complaining  of  the  burns,  whose  scars  she 
bears  for  a  long  time.  It  catches  fire  again.  She  puts 
it  out.  But  the  back  of  the  chimney  creaks.  "Who 
is  there?"  says  a  gendarme.  Mademoiselle  Stylite 
de  Kersabiec  responds:  "We  surrender;  we  are 
going  to  open  the  back  of  the  chimney;  put  out  the 
fire."  It  is  half -past  nine  in  the  morning.  The 
prisoners  have  been  without  food  and  almost  with- 
out air,  and  suffering  unspeakable  agonies  for  sixteen 
hours.  A  few  seconds  longer,  and  they  would  have 
died.  The  gendarmes  kick  the  faggots  aside,  and  the 
Duchess  comes  out  first,  touching  perforce  the  still 
scorching  hearth. 

Behold  this  elegant,  admired,  and  adulated  Prin- 
cess, this  enchantress  who  has  passed  under  so  many 


32  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

triumphal  arches  and  been  so  often  buried  under  an 
avalanche  of  flowers,  this  graceful  magician,  this 
good  fairy  who  has  presided  at  such  magnificent 
and  brilliant  f£tes  at  the  Elyse'e  and  the  Tuileries, 
at  Compiegne  and  Fontainebleau ;  behold  the  heir- 
ess of  Saint  Louis,  Henri  IV.,  and  Louis  XIV., 
the  Regent  of  France,  stepping  from  her  hiding- 
place  on  still  burning  cinders,  her  dress  in  rags, 
her  hands  and  feet  all  blistered;  behold  her  a  pris- 
oner, delivered  up,  sold  for  a  little  gold  by  the 
most  infamous  of  traitors,  by  a  man  whom  she  had 
loaded  with  benefits,  by  Deutz,  that  new  Judas,  to 
whom  Victor  Hugo  has  addressed  this  avenging  apos- 
trophe :  — 

"  O  wretch  !  did  nothing  in  thy  soul  then  say 
That  to  be  banned  is  reverend  for  aye ; 
That  breasts  at  which  we  once  have  nourished  been 
We  may  not  smite :  the  valet  of  a  queen 
May  sell  her  not  to  other  wretch  at  will : 
That,  queen  no  more,  she  is  a  woman  still !  " 

The  thing  is  done ;  the  bargain  concluded  by  M. 
Thiers  with  this  traitor  is  consummated.  The  Duch- 
ess loses  neither  her  self-possession  nor  her  dignity 
in  this  fatal  moment.  Sixteen  hours  of  torture  have 
not  been  able  to  exhaust  her  courage.  She  sends 
for  General  Damoncourt.  He  enters:  "General," 
she  says  calmly,  "  I  have  done  what  a  mother  could 
to  reconquer  the  inheritance  of  her  son."  He  offers 
his  arm  to  conduct  her  to  the  chateau  of  Nantes, 
where  she  is  to  be  incarcerated.  "Ah!  general," 


INTRODUCTION 


she  exclaims,  giving  a  final  glance  at  the  back  of  the 
fatal  chimney  before  quitting  the  house,  "  if  you  had 
not  made  war  on  me  in  the  Saint  Lawrence  style, 
which  was  rather  ungenerous  in  a  soldier,  by  the 
way,  you  wouldn't  have  me  under  your  arm  at  this 
moment." 

From  the  chateau  of  Nantes  the  prisoner  is  taken 
to  the  citadel  of  Blaye.  The  story  of  her  touching 
captivity  there  will  be  narrated  by  one  of  her  physi- 
cians, the  witty  Doctor  Me"nie*re.  Nothing  gives  a 
better  idea  of  the  Duchess  than  the  journal  kept  by 
this  physician,  a  sagacious  observer,  but  benevolent 
and  at  times  even  affected  by  his  illustrious  and 
always  amiable  patient.  Among  her  jailers,  if  such 
a  name  may  ever  be  applied  to  heroes,  there  were  a 
general  and  a  young  officer,  both  of  whom  afterwards 
became  marshals  of  France.  One  of  them  was  to  be 
the  victor  of  Isly,  and  the  other  of  the  Alma.  Each 
of  them  has.  given  an  account  in  his  letters  of  the 
captivity  of  the  Duchess  and  her  psychological  con- 
dition, with  its  alternations  of  anger  and  gaiety,  of 
groans  and  smiles.  Her  situation  becomes  more 
complicated  through  an  incident  which  no  one  had 
foreseen  and  in  which  her  enemies  find  their  account. 
The  government  learns  that  she  is  pregnant,  and 
decrees  that  the  child  shall  be  born  in  the  citadel  of 
Blaye.  At  Paris,  the  ministers  of  Louis  Philippe 
have  decided  that  the  accouchement  shall  be  verified 
by  their  functionaries.  They  fancy  it  will  be  a 
triumph  for  the  monarchy  of  July. 


34  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

The  Duchess  of  Berry  is  in  despair.  But  how  is 
she  to  deny  the  evidence  ?  She  is  obliged  to  submit. 
Then  she  owns  that  she  has  contracted  a  secret  mar- 
riage with  a  Neapolitan  diplomat,  Count  Lucchesi 
Palli,  and  on  May  10,  1833,  she  is  delivered  of  a 
daughter  in  the  citadel  of  Blaye.  She  leaves  her 
prison,  at  last,  on  June  8,  and  embarks  for  Sicily. 
After  so  many  sufferings  she  is  free.  But  Charles 
X.  has  a  grudge  against  her.  It  is  not  easy  to  bring 
about  a  reconciliation  between  her  and  the  old  mon- 
arch. Chateaubriand  undertakes  this  delicate  nego- 
tiation: "Yes,"  he  writes,  "I  will  depart  on  the  last 
and  most  glorious  of  my  embassies ;  I  will  go,  on  the 
part  of  the  prisoner  of  Blaye,  to  find  the  prisoner  of 
the  Temple;  I  will  go  to  negotiate  a  new  family 
compact,  to  bear  the  embraces  of  a  captive  mother  to 
her  exiled  children,  and  to  present  the  letters  by 
which  courage  and  misfortune  have  accredited  me  to 
innocence  and  virtue." 

Poor  mother !  Even  her  own  family  were  not  very 
grateful  for  all  she  had  endured  on  behalf  of  her 
son's  cause.  Princesses  are  certainly  unfortunate 
in  the  France  of  the  nineteenth  century.  If  they  do 
not  resist  revolutions,  they  are  accused  of  weakness ; 
if  they  struggle,  their  resistance  is  accounted  folly. 
Charles  X.,  .who  had  been  so  timid  in  1830,  regarded 
the  energy  of  a  woman  as  an  indirect  criticism  of  his 
own  conduct,  and  the  austere  Duchess  of  Angoul^me, 
who  understood  the  Vende'an  expedition,  and  admired 
the  courage  of  the  heroine,  could  not  comprehend 


INTRODUCTION  35 


the  feminine  weakness  of  which  so  cruel  an  advan- 
tage had  been  taken  by  the  ministers  of  Louis 
Philippe.  However,  the  little  court  of  the  exiled 
monarch  adopted  a  milder  view.  The  reconciliation 
took  place,  but  it  was  more  official  than  actual. 
The  political  career  of  the  Duchess  of  Berry  was 
ended.  She  no  longer  saw  her  son  except  at  long 
intervals,  a  few  days  in  a  year,  while  the  Prince 
never  quitted,  we  might  say,  the  Duchess  of  Angou- 
leme,  who  was  like  a  second  mother  to  him,  more 
influential  and  more  regarded  than  the  real  one. 

The  Duchess  of  Berry  passed  in  comparative  tran- 
quillity the  last  years  of  a  life  whose  beginnings  and 
whose  prime  had  been  so  stormy.  She  lived  very 
happily  with  Count  Lucchesi  Palli,  by  whom  she 
had  several  children,  and  who  regarded  her  with  all 
the  deferential  esteem  of  a  prince-consort.  But  in 
Styria,  where  she  owned  the  chateau  of  Brunse'e, 
near  Gratz;  and  in  Venice,  where  in  1843  she 
bought  the  fine  Vendramini  palace,  on  the  Grand 
Canal,  she  received  with  extreme  affability,  and  the 
elegance  of  her  entertainments  recalled  the  epoch 
when  she  inhabited  the  Elyse*e  and  the  Pavilion  of 
Marsan.  In  1847,  she  gave  private  theatricals  at 
Venice,  and  among  the  actors  and  spectators  were 
twenty-seven  persons  belonging  to  imperial  or  royal 
families.  Generous  beyond  her  means,  she  expended 
a  great  deal,  but  her  son  paid  the  debts  she  had  con- 
tracted through  excessive  charity.  In  her  place,  a 
woman  of  severe  character  would  have  lived  in  per- 


36  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

petual  mourning;  a  vindictive  woman  would  have 
conceived  a  horror  of  human  nature.  The  Duchess 
of  Berry,  on  the  contrary,  after  so  many  catastrophes, 
sorrows,  and  deceptions,  lost  not  one  of  those  gra- 
cious and  attractive  qualities  which  had  caused  her 
success  in  France.  She  continued  to  love  literature 
and  the  arts,  society  and  the  world.  Up  to  the  very 
end  she  preserved  that  benevolence,  indulgence,  and 
amenity  which  characterize  veritable  great  ladies. 
A  princess  from  head  to  foot,  she  always  played  her 
part  with  exquisite  distinction,  as  well  in  exile  as  on 
the  steps  of  the  throne.  She  had  found  out  that 
grievances  are  not  well-bred.  A  complaint  against 
destiny  seemed  unworthy  of  a  race  so  noble  as  hers. 
In  the  latter  years  of  her  life,  nevertheless,  she 
was  subjected  to  trials  no  less  painful  than  those  of 
her  youth.  March  26,  1854,  the  Duke  of  Parma, 
the  husband  of  the  Princess  Louise,  her  daughter  by 
the  Duke  of  Berry,  was  mortally  wounded  by  the 
stiletto  of  an  assassin.  Louvel's  crime  was  thus 
repeated  after  an  interval  of  thirty-four  years.  The 
husband  and  the  son-in-law  of  the  Duchess  of  Berry- 
passed  through  the  same  majestic  and  pious  death- 
agony.  After  having  blessed  his  four  children, — 
Prince  Robert,  Princess  Marguerite,  Princess  Alixe, 
and  Count  de  Bardi, —  the  Duke  of  Parma  expressed 
the  same  sentiments  as  Louvel's  victim.  A  few  days 
after  the  tragic  death  of  his  brother-in-law,  the 
Count  of  Chambord  wrote :  "  He  who  has  just  been 
so  cruelly  stricken  had  no  words  but  those  of  for- 


INTRODUCTION  37 


giveness  for  his  murderer,  and  never  ceased  until 
his  last  sigh  to  show  admirable  faith,  piety,  courage, 
and  Christian  resignation.  This  is  our  only  consola- 
tion under  an  affliction  as  frightful  as  it  was  unfore- 
seen." In  1864,  two  new  misfortunes  came  to  rend 
the  heart  of  the  Duchess  of  Berry.  February  1, 
she  lost  her  good  and  charming  daughter,  the  Prin- 
cess Louise  of  France,  Duchess  of  Parma,  who  died 
at  the  age  of  forty-four;  and  exactly  two  months 
later,  on  April  1,  her  husband,  Count  Hector  Luc- 
chesi  Palli,  Duke  Delia  Grazia.  This  double  afflic- 
tion reduced  her  to  despair. 

"I  have  been  so  tried,"  she  wrote,  "that  my  poor 
head  feels  the  effects  of  it.  It  made  me  nearly  mad 
to  lose  my  good  and  saintly  daughter ;  but  the  kind 
attentions  of  the  Duke  had  calmed  me  somewhat 
when  God  recalled  him  to  himself.  He  died  in  my 
arms  like  a  saint,  surrounded  by  his  children,  smiling 
at  me,  and  pointing  to  heaven.  Yes,  dear  friend, 
you  are  right  in  saying  that  our  only  consolation  is 
to  raise  our  eyes  to  heaven,  where  those  we  love 
await  us.  But  for  us,  on  earth,  what  sorrows !  " 

As  the  woman  who  had  known  so  many  griefs  and 
endured  so  many  trials  advanced  in  life,  her  relig- 
ious sentiments  became  more  strongly  marked.  Mis- 
fortune, that  great  master,  had  given  her  so  many 
lessons!  She  could  make  so  many  reflections  on 
human  vicissitudes,  this  great-niece  of  Queen  Marie 
Antoinette,  this  widow  of  an  assassinated  prince, 
this  mother  of  a  disinherited  prince,  this  mother-in- 


38  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

law  of  a  poniarded  son-in-law,  this  daughter-in-law 
of  Charles  X.,  this  cousin-german  of  the  Empress 
Marie  Louise,  this  niece  of  Queen  Marie  Amelie! 
She  died  suddenly  at  Brunse'e,  April  16,  1870,  of 
apoplexy,  the  same  death  as  that  of  her  grandmother, 
Marie  Caroline,  Queen  of  Naples.  She  was  seventy- 
one  years  old.  If  she  had  been  living  in  1873,  no 
doubt  she  would  have  given  her  son  different  coun- 
sels from  those  he  followed.  But  Providence  had 
decided  that  the  mission  of  the  elder  branch  of 
Bourbons  was  finished  in  France. 

On  the  whole,  what  interesting  types  the  Duch- 
ess of  Angouleme  and  the  Duchess  of  Berry  are! 
What  personifications  of  one  of  the  most  instructive 
and  affecting  epochs  of  history!  What  souvenirs, 
dramas,  and  legends  are  suggested  by  the  names  of 
these  two  women!  The  Duchess  of  Angouleme  is 
the  Temple,  the  Terror,  the  Exile,  the  Restoration, 
at  first  with  its  infatuations,  and  afterwards  with 
its  bitterness,  its  deceptions,  and  its  cataclysms. 
The  Duchess  of  Berry  is  hope  speedily  disappointed, 
illusion  quickly  dispelled;  the  enchantment  of  a 
society  which  was  amiable  and  gracious  in  spite  of 
its  weaknesses,  errors,  and  infatuations;  the  spell 
of  an  epoch  when  great  faults  were  committed, 
but  which  was  able  to  unite  the  elegance  of  the 
old  regime  to  the  guarantees  of  modern  liberty, 
to  make  both  the  court  and  the  tribune  brilliant, 
to  produce  a  marvellous  .harvest  of  great  achieve- 
ments, and  recommend  itself  to  posterity  by  an 


INTRODUCTION  39 


incomparable  group  of  men  of  talent  and  genius. 
The  Duchess  of  Angoulchne  is  the  purity  of  tra- 
dition, the  majesty  of  the  past,  the  legend  of  sanc- 
tity and  sorrow.  The  Duchess  of  Berry,  a  type 
less  venerable  but  more  feminine,  is  the  image  of  a 
convulsed  society,  the  transition  between  the  past 
and  the  future,  the  woman  of  contrasts,  who  some- 
times appears  all  glittering  in  brocade  and  the  crown 
diamonds  beneath  the  vaulted  roof  of  Notre  Dame, 
and  sometimes  in  a  peasant's  gown  on  the  road  to 
Nantes,  or  vainly  seeking  refuge  in  the  narrow 
hiding-place  of  the  mysterious  house  of  the  Demoi- 
selles Duguigny.  By  turns  she  is  the  triumphant 
betrothed,  the  flattered  wife,  the  idolized  mother,  the 
fugitive,  the  vanquished,  the  proscribed,  who,  after 
anguish  of  all  descriptions,  falls  into  the  snares  of 
treason  and  infamy.  Around  these  two  women,  the 
principal  actors  in  this  great  historic  drama,  what 
unlike  figures  group  themselves :  the  executioners  of 
the  Terror,  the  £migr£s,  the  soldiers  of  the  royal 
guard,  the  Vende'ans,  the  innumerable  courtiers  of 
the  Tuileries  and  the  rare  courtiers  of  the  Exile, 
who  assist  respectfully  at  the  last  days  and  the 
obsequies  of  the  old  French  monarchy ! 

There  is  another  woman  whom  we  shall  have  to 
consider  also,  for  she  likewise  is  a  woman  of  the 
Tuileries,  where  she  resided  in  her  childhood,  from 
1820  to  1830.  This  is  the  Princess  Louise  of 
France,  who  was  born  September  2,  1819,  a  year 
before  her  brother,  the  Duke  of  Bordeaux.  Old  men 


40  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

who  lived  in  Paris  at  the  time  of  the  Restoration 
recall  the  sympathy  aroused  by  the  pretty  little 
Princess  when  she  was  seen  at  the  Tuileries,  run- 
ning along  the  terrace  beside  the  water,  holding  her 
brother  by  the  hand,  or  walking  beneath  the  trees 
in  the  beautiful  park  of  Saint  Cloud.  Her  mother 
idolized  her.  From  the  citadel  of  Blaye  the  prisoner 
wrote  to  the  author  of  the  GSniS  du  Christianisme : 
"I  beg  you  to  convey  to  my  dear  children  the 
expression  of  my  affection  for  them.  Tell  Henri 
especially  that  I  count  more  than  ever  on  his  efforts 
to  become  daily  more  worthy  of  the  admiration  and 
love  of  the  French  people.  Tell  Louise  how  happy 
I  would  be  to  embrace  her,  and  that  her  letters  are 
my  only  consolation."  After  the  revolution  of  1830, 
the  young  Princess  never  quitted  her  aunt,  the 
Duchess  of  Angouleme,  until  her  marriage.  Cha- 
teaubriand, who  in  1833  made  a  journey  to  Prague, 
the  asylum  of  the  exiled  Bourbons,  wrote  at  that 
time :  "  I  saw  the  brother  and  sister,  like  two  pretty 
gazelles,  straying  amidst  the  ruins.  Mademoiselle 
resembles  her  father  somewhat ;  her  hair  is  fair,  and 
her  blue  eyes  have  a  fine  expression.  There  is  in 
her  entire  person  a  blending  of  the  child,  the  young 
girl,  and  the  princess.  She  looks  at  you,  she  lowers 
her  eyes,  she  smiles  with  native  coquetry;  one  is  at 
a  loss  whether  to  tell  her  a  fairy  tale  or  to  address 
her  respectfully  as  one  would  a  queen." 

On,  November  10,  1845,  a  year  before  the  marriage 
of  her  brother,  the  Count  of  Chambord,  the  Princess 


INTRODUCTION  41 


Louise  espoused  the  hereditary  Prince  of  Lucca,  a 
scion  like  herself  of  the  house  of  Bourbon,  whose 
father  reigned  in  the  duchy  of  Lucca  while  waiting 
for  the  reversion  of  that  of  Parma,  to  which  the 
Empress  Marie  Louise  had  only  a  life  title.  The 
widow  of  Napoleon  died  in  1847,  and  the  Duke 
Charles  Louis,  ceding  the  duchy  of  Lucca  to  Tus- 
cany, became  Duke  of  Parma.  He  was  driven  out 
of  his  new  dominions  by  an  insurrection  in  1849, 
and  abdicated  in  favor  of  his  son,  Charles  III.,  hus- 
band of  the  Princess  Louise  of  France.  The  analo- 
gies between  the  destinies  of  this  Princess  and  her 
mother  are  striking.  Like  the  Duchess  of  Berry, 
she  mourned  her  husband,  stabbed  by  an  assassin; 
like  the  Duchess  of  Berry,  she  energetically  defended 
the  rights  of  her  son.  But  while  the  Duchess  of 
Berry  had  been  regent  only  in  name,  the  Duchess  of 
Parma  was  so  in  fact  from  1854  to  1860,  in  the  name 
of  her  son,  the  young  Duke  of  Parma.  She  gov- 
erned the  country  with  rare  intelligence.  But 
fatality  pursued  her  race.  The  movement  for  unity 
swept  away  the  little  throne  of  Parma.  Duke 
Robert  had  the  same  fate  as  his  uncle  the  Count  of 
Chambord,  and  in  1860,  in  spite  of  his  mother's 
protests,  his  states  were  annexed  to  the  new  king- 
dom of  Italy. 

The  history  we  are  beginning  is  a  funeral  oration, 
but  one  which  has  its  gay  and  luminous  passages ;  a 
tragi-comedy  wherein,  as  in  human  life,  smiles  blend 
with  tears,  hope  with  discouragement,  joy  with  sor- 


42  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

row.  We  shall  not  draw  our  materials  simply  from 
books,  memoirs,  manuscripts,  newspapers,  official 
acts,  and  private  letters.  We  shall  seek  informa- 
tion, hitherto  unpublished,  from  many  persons  hon- 
ored by  intimacy  Avith  the  princesses  of  whom  we 
desire  to  paint  true  portraits,  and  not  fancy  sketches. 
The  great  advantage  of  dealing  with  subjects  near 
our  own  time  is  that  one  may  consult  ocular  wit- 
nesses of  most  of  the  events  which  must  be  described, 
and  that  the  check  exercised  by  these  persons  neces- 
sitates an  absolute  respect  for  truth.  Formerly, 
writers  hesitated  to  treat  contemporary  history. 
To-day,  they  prefer  it  to  that  of  distant  ages.  Every 
time  a  man  who  has  had  a  part  to  play  dies,  we  say : 
"  What  a  misfortune  not  to  have  profited  enough  yet 
by  his  souvenirs!  "  Is  not  history  like  a  vast  legal 
inquiry,  which  demands  that  the  greatest  possible 
number  of  witnesses  shall  be  summoned  ? 

The  eighteenth  century  is  known  at  present,  not 
merely  in  its  ensemble,  but  in  its  minute  details. 
It  is  the  nineteenth  that  demands  investigation.  If 
one  brings  to  such  studies  that  partisan  spirit  which 
has  the  sorry  privilege  of  spoiling  all  it  touches,  he 
will  accomplish  nothing  serious ;  but  if  he  remains 
faithful  to  the  motto:  "Truth,  nothing  but  the 
truth,  all  the  truth";  if  he  observes  conscientiously; 
if  while  compassionating  sufferings  and  recounting 
extenuating  circumstances  together  with  the  faults 
he  chronicles,  he  bases  his  conclusions  on  the  laws 
of  morality,  justice,  and  honor, — he  may  fearlessly 


INTRODUCTION  43 


treat  subjects  which  at  first  glance  appear  difficult. 
Doubtless,  what  relates  to  the  private  history  of 
celebrated  princesses  needs  particularly  delicate 
treatment.  Their  biographers  ought  never  to  forget 
what  is  due  to  women ;  above  all,  to  unhappy  women. 
But  to  continue  after  their  misfortunes  the  flattery 
of  which  they  were  the  victims  in  their  days  of 
prosperity  would  not  be  to  pay  a  real  homage  to 
their  memory.  Respect  does  not  exclude  freedom, 
and  the  historian  ought  never  to  transform  himself 
into  a  courtier. 


FIRST  PART 
THE    CAPTIVITY 


THE  TEMPLE  TOWER 

THE  most  ardent  revolutionists  and  those  most 
wrought  upon  by  hatred  and  regicidal  passions 
were  not  able  to  pass  the  tower  of  the  Temple  when 
the  Terror  was  at  its  height,  without  experiencing 
certain  qualms.  The  vast  skeleton  of  stone  dating 
from  the  twelfth  century  and  recalling  the  baleful 
history  of  the  Order  of  Templars,  wore  an  aspect 
more  dismal  and  fantastic  than  ever.  This  dungeon, 
which  succeeded  Versailles  and  the  Tuileries,  for  the 
descendants  of  Louis  XIV.  seemed  a  fatal  spot  — 
where  Louis  XVI.  had  not  been  since  the  morning 
of  January  21,  1793,  but  where  his  Queen,  Marie 
Antoinette,  her  sister-in-law,  Madame  Elisabeth, 
her  daughter,  Madame  Royale  (the  future  Duchess 
of  Angouleme),  and  his  son,  whom  the  royalists  of 
France  and  all  Europe  styled  Louis  XVII.,  but 
whom  his  jailers  called  Capet,  still  remained.  It 
was  known  in  a  vague  sort  of  way  that  the  royal 

45 


46  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

family  endured  indescribable  sufferings  in  this 
accursed  abode,  and  tears  came  into  the  eyes  of 
royalists  as  they  gazed  at  its  gigantic  walls:  more 
than  one  republican  sought  in  vain  to  escape  a  like 
emotion.  Persons  who  had  seen  the  royal  family 
resplendent  in  gala  carriages  on  days  when  they 
made  triumphal  visits  to  the  good  city  of  Paris, 
could  not  avoid  reflections  on  the  vicissitudes  in 
human  affairs,  and  on  catastrophes  which  no  har- 
binger of  misfortune  would  have  ventured  to  fore- 
bode. They  recalled  May  24,  1785,  the  day  when 
the  Queen,  who  had  been  delivered  on  the  previous 
March  27,  of  the  child  destined  to  be  called  Louis 
XVII.,  had  come  to  the  Temple  in  a  very  different 
fashion.  On  that  day  the  brilliant  goddess — for, 
according  to  Pdre  Duchesne  himself,  people  then 
regarded  her  as  a  divinity  —  made  a  ceremonious 
entry  into  Paris  for  the  purpose  of  being  churched. 
Her  carriage,  drawn  by  eight  white  horses,  was 
escorted  by  fifty  body-guards.  The  cannons  of  the 
Invalides  thundered.  She  went  to  Notre  Dame,  then 
to  Sainte  Genevie've,  and  afterwards  to  the  Tuileries, 
where  she  dined.  In  the  evening  she  went  to  the 
Temple  to  supper.  The  entertainment  ended  by 
fireworks  which  the  Count  of  Aranda  set  off,  in  the 
Queen's  presence,  on  the  top  of  his  house  situated 
on  the  Place  Louis  XV.  What  reflections  are  not 
awakened  by  those  words :  the  Temple  and  the  Place 
Louis  XV. ! 

Marie  Antoinette  had  always  felt  an  instinctive 


THE  TEMPLE  TOWER  47 

repugnance  for  the  sombre  dungeon  around  which  so 
many  gloomy  memories  lingered.  She  beheld  it  with 
vague  uneasiness,  as  if  affected  by  a  presentiment. 
Nothing  could  be  more  dismal  than  this  edifice, 
this  scene  prepared  beforehand  for  the  most  sinister 
of  historical  dramas.  It  formed  a  quadrangular 
dungeon  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  height, 
not  counting  the  roof,  and  its  walls  were  nine  feet 
thick.  It  was  flanked  at  each  of  its  corners  by  a 
round  tower,  and  accompanied  on  its  north  side  by 
a  small  but  solid  mass  of  masonry,  surmounted  by 
two  much  lower  towers.  This  pile,  which  was  called 
the  little  tower,  leaned  against  the  large  one,  but 
had  no  interior  communication  with  it.  A  profound 
melancholy  overspread  the  tomb-like  monument.  It 
bore  neither  inscription  nor  ornament,  but,  freezing 
and  accursed  in  appearance,  it  seemed  like  a  spot 
haunted  by  spectres. 

The  interior  was,  if  possible,  more  gloomy  still. 
The  large  tower  was  built  in  four  stories,  vaulted, 
and  supported  in  the  centre  by  a  column  rising  from 
the  bottom  to  the  top.  The  ground-floor,  where  the 
municipal  officers  had  their  quarters,  formed  but  one 
large  room.  The  same  thing  was  true  of  the  first 
story,  which  was  occupied  by  the  body-guards.  The 
second  story,  where  the  King  had  dwelt,  and  which 
was  now  the  prison  of  his  son,  had  been  divided  into 
four  rooms  by  partitions.  The  third,  an  exact  repro- 
duction of  the  second,  was  occupied  by  Marie 
Antoinette,  her  daughter,  Madame  Royale,  and  her 


48  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

sister-in-law,  Madame  Elisabeth.  The  ante-cham- 
ber, just  above  that  of  the  apartment  of  Louis  XVI., 
was  preceded  like  it  by  two  doors,  one  of  oak  and 
the  other  of  iron.  Its  paper-hangings  represented 
cut  stones,  laid  one  upon  another.  From  these  one 
passed  into  the  Queen's  chamber,  hung  with  paper 
covered  with  pale  zones  of  green  and  blue,  and  dimly 
lighted  by  a  grated  window,  concealed  by  an  awn- 
ing. The  floor  was  tiled  in  small  squares.  A  clock 
on  the  chimney-piece  represented  Fortune  and  her 
wheel.  Mere  chance  had  provided  this  really  sym- 
bolic timepiece.  Marie  Antoinette  and  the  young 
Marie  The'rdse  (Madame  Royale)  occupied  this  cham- 
ber in  common,  and  adjoining  it  was  the  turret 
which  served  as  their  dressing-room.  The  Queen's 
bed  stood  just  over  the  place  where  that  of  Louis 
XVI.  had  been  on  the  floor  below,  and  her  dress- 
ing-room above  the  turret  used  as  an  oratory  by 
Louis  XVI.  The  chamber  was  furnished  with 
Marie  Antoinette's  bed,  her  daughter's  reversible 
couch,  a  mahogany  commode,  a  small  sofa,  a  mir- 
ror forty-five  inches  by  thirty-six,  and  a  wooden 
screen  with  four  leaves.  At  the  left  was  Madame 
Elisabeth's  chamber,  containing  an  iron  bedstead,  a 
commode,  a  walnut  table,  a  fireplace,  a  mirror  forty- 
five  inches  by  thirty-two,  two  chairs,  two  armchairs 
covered  with  chintz,  and  two  candlesticks.  The 
fourth  story,  which  comprised  but  one  large  room, 
was  not  occupied,  but  served  as  a  storage  place  for 
disused  furniture  and  boards.  Between  the  battle- 


THE  TEMPLE  TOWER  49 

ments  and  the  roof  there  was  a  gallery  where  the 
prisoners  sometimes  walked.  The  spaces  between 
the  battlements  had  been  provided  with  solid  win- 
dow-blinds, so  that  it  was  impossible  to  see  or  to  be 
seen  thence. 

Marie  Antoinette  left  the  Temple  for  the  Concier- 
gerie  at  two  in  the  morning.  At  that  moment  our 
present  recital  begins.  The  narrator  shall  be  the 
heroine  of  this  study,  Marie  The*rese  of  France, 
Madame  Royale,  the  future  Duchess  of  Angouleme. 
This  young  girl  of  fourteen  kept  a  journal  in  her 
captivity  which  she  called  "A  Narrative  of  what 
occurred  at  the  Temple  from  August  13,  1792, 
until  the  death  of  the  Dauphin,  Louis  XVII." 
Sainte-Beuve  says  of  it:  "She  wrote  it  in  a  terse, 
correct,  and  simple  style,  without  a  mannerism 
or  a  superfluous  word,  as  beseemed  a  profound  heart 
and  an  upright  mind,  speaking  in  all  sincerity 
of  real  griefs,  of  those  truly  ineffable  griefs  which 
surpass  words.  In  it  she  unaffectedly  forgets  her- 
self as  far  as  possible.  All  party  spirit  is  disarmed 
and  expires  in  reading  this  narrative,  and  gives 
place  to  profound  pity  and  admiration.  Gentleness, 
piety,  and  modesty  animate  the  pages  of  this  injured 
maiden." 

Marie  The'rese  thus  describes  the  terrible  night  of 
August  2,  1793:  "August  2,  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  they  came  to  wake  us  up  in  order  to  read 
my  mother  the  decree  of  the  Convention,  which 
ordered  that,  upon  the  requisition  of  the  Procureur 


50  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

of  the  Commune,  she  should  be  conducted  to  the 
Conciergerie  for  her  trial.  She  listened  to  the  read- 
ing of  this  decree  without  being  affected  or  saying  a 
single  word.  My  aunt  and  I  at  once  asked  to  follow 
my  mother,  but  this  favor  was  not  granted.  While 
she  was  packing  up  her  clothes  the  municipal  officers 
did  not  quit  her;  she  was  even  obliged  to  dress  in 
their  presence.  They  demanded  lier  pockets,  which 
she  gave  them.  They  rummaged  them  and  took  all 
they  contained,  although  it  was  nothing  of  impor- 
tance. They  made  a  packet  of  the  contents,  which 
they  said  they  would  send  to  the  revolutionary 
tribunal,  where  it  would  be  opened  before  her. 
They  left  her  nothing  but  a  handkerchief  and  a 
smelling  bottle,  lest  she  should  faint.  My  mother, 
after  tenderly  embracing  me  and  recommending  me 
to  be  courageous,  to  take  good  care  of  my  aunt,  and 
to  obey  her  like  a  second  mother,  renewed  the 
instructions  my  father  had  given  me;  then,  throw- 
ing herself  into  my  aunt's  arms,  she  intrusted  her 
children  to  her  care.  I  made  no  answer,  so  greatly 
frightened  was  I  at  the  thought  that  I  was  seeing 
her  for  the  last  time ;  my  aunt  said  a  few  words  in  a 
very  low  tone.  Then  my  mother  went  away  with- 
out looking  at  us,  fearing,  doubtless,  that  her  cour- 
age might  abandon  her.  She  stopped  again  at  the 
foot  of  the  tower,  because  the  municipal  officers 
made  a  proces  verbal  there,  in  order  to  relieve  the 
doorkeeper  of  responsibility  for  her  person.  In 
going  out  she  struck  her  head  against  the  wicket, 


THE  TEMPLE  TOWER  51 

having  forgotten  to  stoop:  some  one  asked  if  she 
had  hurt  herself.  "  Oh,  no !  "  she  said ;  "  nothing  can 
hurt  me  now." 

It  was  thus  that  Marie  Antoinette  left  the  fatal 
dungeon  where  she  had  passed  a  twelvemonth  of 
tears  and  anguish.  When  she  learned  that  she  was 
to  be  transferred  thither,  on  August  13,  1792,  she 
had  exclaimed:  "I  always  begged  the  Count  of 
Artois  to  have  that  villanous  tower  of  the  Temple 
torn  down;  it  always  horrified  me." 


II 

MADAME  ELISABETH 

MARIE  THERESE  had  now  no  companion  in 
captivity  except  Madame  Elisabeth.  "My 
aunt  and  I,"  she  has  written  in  her  journal,  "were 
inconsolable,  and  we  spent  many  days  and  nights  in 
tears.  It  was  a  great  consolation  not  to  be  separated 
from  my  aunt,  whom  I  loved  so  much ;  but  alas !  all 
changed  again,  and  I  have  lost  her  also."  The 
daughter  and  sister  of  Louis  XVI.  were  to  remain 
together  in  the  great  tower  of  the  Temple  until  May 
9,  1794,  when  Madame  Elisabeth  departed  to  the 
Conciergerie,  the  vestibule  of  the  guillotine.  Dur- 
ing nine  months  the  young  woman  was  to  exhort  her 
youthful  niece  and  inspire  her  with  the  principles 
destined  to  be  the  rule  of  her  whole  existence.  The 
Princess  was  the  disciple  of  her  aunt,  who,  if  one 
may  say  so,  was  more  than  a  mother  to  her.  Madame 
Elisabeth!  The  mere  name  is  like  a  symbol  of 
piety.  There  are  few  figures  in  history  as  sympa- 
thetic and  as  sweet  as  hers;  very  few  heads  sur- 
rounded with  so  pure  and  luminous  a  halo.  Born 
May  3,  1764,  Madame  Elisabeth  was  twenty-nine 
years  old  when  Marie  Antoinette  confided  her 
52 


MADAME  ELISABETH  53 

daughter  to  her  as  she  left  the  Temple  for  the  Con- 
ciergerie.  The  Queen  knew  by  experience  what 
devotion,  courage,  and  sanctity  filled  the  heart  of 
her  sister-in-law.  Losing  both  father  and  mother 
before  her  third  year,  Madame  Elisabeth  had  poured 
out  upon  her  brothers,  and  especially  upon  the  eldest, 
who  was  afterwards  to  be  styled  Louis  XVI.,  the 
affection  she  would  have  felt  for  her  parents.  In 
all  the  splendor  of  her  youth  and  beauty,  she  had 
refused  the  most  brilliant  marriages.  "I  could 
marry  no  one,"  she  said  at  the  time,  "but  the  son  of 
a  king,  and  the  son  of  a  king  must  reign  over  the 
dominions  of  his  father;  I  would  no  longer  be  a 
Frenchwoman,  and  I  am  not  willing  to  cease  being 
so.  I  would  rather  stay  here,  at  the  foot  of  my 
brother's  throne,  than  ascend  any  other."  She  had 
been  unwilling  to  seek  a  shelter  from  danger  by 
following  her  brothers  and  her  aunts  into  volun- 
tary exile.  "  To  go  away,"  said  she,  "  would  be 
both  barbarous  and  stupid."  Voluntarily  associating 
herself  with  all  the  agonies  of  the  downfall  of 
royalty,  she  had  been  admirable  for  firmness,  pres- 
ence of  mind,  and  coolness  during  the  Varennes 
journey.  On  August  20,  1792,  when  an  immense 
crowd  invaded  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries,  she  had 
clung  to  her  brother,  declaring  that  nothing  should 
induce  her  to  leave  him.  Some  of  the  assassins, 
mistaking  her  for  Marie  Antoinette,  tried  to  thrust 
her  through.  "Stop!  It  is  Madame  Elisabeth!" 
cried  several  voices.  "Why  did  you  undeceive 


54  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

them?"  said  the  heroic  Princess.  "This  mistake 
might  have  saved  the  Queen."  At  the  Temple  she 
was,  as  the  Duchess  of  Tourzel  has  said,  "  the  con- 
solation of  her  august  family,  and  notably  of  the 
Queen,  who,  less  pious  than  she  when  they  entered 
the  Temple,  had  the  happiness  to  imitate  that  angel 
of  virtue."  Mgr.  Darboy,  whose  end  was  as  tragic 
as  that  of  Madame  Elisabeth,  has  said:  "From  this 
common  captivity  must  be  dated  the  intimate  friend- 
ship established  between  the  Queen  and  Madame 
Elisabeth;  the  piety  of  the  one  and  the  virile  resig- 
nation of  the  other  formed  a  precious  bond  and 
mutual  encouragement.  Madame  Elisabeth  became 
a  second  mother  to  her  nephew  and  niece,  whom  she 
surrounded  with  the  most  delicate  and  devoted  cares. 
The  unfortunate  Louis  XVI.  likewise  frequently 
recommended  them  to  consider  her  as  such,  and 
when,  on  the  day  before  his  death,  he  parted  from 
them  for  the  last  time,  he  placed  them,  and  the 
Queen  also,  once  more  under  the  protection  of  his 
sister,  the  angel-guardian  of  the  dismal  prison." 

Every  morning  in  the  Temple,  Madame  Elisabeth 
recited  this  prayer  which  she  had  composed  there : 
"What  will  happen  to  me  to-day,  O  my  God?  I 
know  not;  all  that  I  know  is  that  nothing  will 
happen  which  Thou  hast  not  foreseen,  regulated, 
willed,  and  ordained  from  all  eternity.  That  suf- 
fices me.  I  adore  Thy  eternal  and  impenetrable 
designs;  I  submit  to  them  with  all  my  heart  for 
love  of  Thee.  I  will  all,  I  accept  all,  I  make  a  sac- 


MADAME  ELISABETH  55 

rifice  to  Thee  of  all,  and  I  unite  this  sacrifice  to  that 
of  my  Divine  Saviour.  I  ask  Thee  in  His  name  and 
by  His  infinite  merits  for  patience  in  my  afflictions 
and  the  perfect  submission  that  is  due  to  Thee  for 
all  Thou  wiliest  or  permittest. "  God  must  have 
granted  this  prayer.  Madame  Elisabeth  was  to  carry 
resignation,  patience,  and  forgiveness  of  injuries  to 
a  truly  sublime  perfection.  Let  us  return  now  to 
the  journal  of  her  niece,  who  learned  in  her  school 
to  become  a  saint  likewise. 

"On  the  day  after  my  mother's  departure,"  writes 
Marie  The'rese,  "  my  aunt  earnestly  entreated,  in  her 
own  name  as  well  as  mine,  to  be  allowed  to  rejoin 
her;  but  she  could  not  obtain  this,  nor  even  learn 
any  news  of  her.  As  my  mother,  who  had  never 
drunk  anything  but  water,  could  not  endure  that  of 
the  Seine,  because  it  made  her  ill,  we  begged  the 
municipal  officers  to  permit  that  of  Ville-d'Avray, 
which  was  brought  daily  to  the  Temple,  to  be  sent 
her.  They  consented,  and  took  measures  accord- 
ingly; but  another  of  their  colleagues  arrived  who 
opposed  it.  A  few  days  afterward,  in  order  to 
hear  from  us,  she  sent  to  ask  for  several  things  that 
were  of  use  to  her,  and  among  others  some  knit- 
ting, because  she  had  undertaken  to  make  a  pair 
of  stockings  for  my  brother ;  we  sent  her  all  the  silk 
and  wool  we  could  find,  for  we  knew  how  well  she 
loved  to  be  employed;  she  had  always  been  accus- 
tomed to  work  incessantly  except  at  the  hours  when 
she  had  to  appear  in  public.  Thus  she  had  made  an 


56  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

enormous  quantity  of  furniture  covers,  and  even  a 
carpet,  besides  an  infinity  of  coarse  woollen  knitted 
things  of  all  descriptions.  We  collected  then,  all 
we  could;  but  we  learned  afterwards  that  nothing 
was  sent,  because  they  said  they  were  afraid  she 
would  do  herself  harm  with  the  needles." 

Marie  The're'se  was  not  less  anxious  about  her 
brother's  fate  than  about  that  of  her  mother.  The 
child  lived  just  underneath  her,  on  the  second  floor 
of  the  great  Temple  tower,  and  yet  all  tidings  of 
him  were  denied  her.  But  the  persecutor  of  the 
innocent  victim,  Simon  the  cobbler,  raised  his  voice 
so  high  that  his  oaths  and  blasphemies  could  be 
heard  on  the  third  story.  What  crowned  the  afflic- 
tion of  the  pious  Princess  was  that  they  sought  to 
corrupt  the  child  as  well  as  to  persecute  him.  "  We 
heard  him  singing  the  Carmagnole,  the  Marseillaise, 
and  a  thousand  other  horrible  things  with  Simon 
every  day,"  writes  Marie  Th&r&se.  "Simon  put  a 
red  cap  on  his  head  and  a  revolutionary  jacket  on 
his  body ;  he  made  him  sing  at  the  windows  so  as  to 
be  heard  by  the  guards,  and  taught  him  to  utter 
frightful  curses  against  God,  his  family,  and  the 
aristocrats.  Happily,  my  mother  did  not  hear  all 
these  horrors.  What  pain  they  would  have  caused 
her!  Before  her  departure  they  had  sent  for  my 
brother's  clothes;  she  had  said  she  hoped  that  he 
would  not  leave  off  wearing  mourning;  but  the 
first  thing  Simon  did  was  to  take  off  his  black 
suit.  The  change  in  his  food,  and  ill  treatment, 


MADAME  ELISABETH  57 

made  my  brother  ill  toward  the  end  of  August. 
Simon  fed  him  horribly,  and  forced  him  to  drink  a 
great  deal  of  wine,  which  he  detested.  All  this 
soon  brought  on  a  fever;  he  took  medicine  which 
disagreed  with  him,  and  his  health  was  completely 
ruined." 

The  young  Princess  was  also  suffering  about  this 
time.  "In  the  beginning  of  September,"  she  says, 
"  I  had  an  indisposition  which  had  no  other  cause  than 
my  anxiety  about  my  mother's  fate.  I  never  heard 
a  drum  without  fearing  another  second  of  September. 
We  went  up  on  the  roof  of  the  tower  every  day. 
The  municipal  officials  visited  us  three  times  daily 
without  fail ;  but  their  severity  did  not  prevent  our 
getting  news  from  outside,  and  especially  of  my 
mother,  because  we  have  always  found  some  kindly 
souls  in  whom  we  inspired  interest.  We  learned 
that  my  mother  was  accused  of  receiving  commu- 
nications from  without.  We  threw  away  at  once 
our  writings,  our  pencils,  and  all  that  we  might  still 
be  writing,  fearing  that  we  might  be  forced  to  un- 
dress before  Simon's  wife,  and  that  the  things  we 
had  might  compromise  my  mother ;  for  we  had  always 
kept  ink,  paper,  pens,  and  pencils  in  spite  of  the 
most  rigorous  searches  made  in  our  rooms  and  fur- 
niture. The  municipals  came  to  ask  for  underwear 
for  my  mother,  but  were  not  willing  to  give  us  any 
news  of  her.  They  took  away  from  us  the  scraps  of 
tapestry  she  had  made,  and  those  on  which  we  were 
working,  under  the  pretence  that  mysterious  char- 


58  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

acters  and  a  secret  way  of  writing  might  be  concealed 
in  them." 

Meanwhile,  the  captivity  of  the  two  Princesses 
constantly  became  more  rigorous.  "Every  day," 
says  Marie  The're'se,  "we  were  visited  and  searched 
by  the  municipals ;  on  September  4,  they  arrived  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  make  a  thorough 
search  and  take  away  the  silverware  and  china. 
They  carried  off  all  that  we  had  remaining,  and  not 
finding  it  agree  with  their  list,  they  had  the  base- 
ness to  accuse  us  of  having  stolen  some,  when  it 
was  their  own  colleagues  who  had  concealed  it. 
They  found  a  roll  of  louis  behind  the  drawers  in  my 
aunt's  commode,  and  they  took  possession  of  it  on 
the  spot  with  extraordinary  eagerness." 

The  two  captives  were  soon  deprived  of  almost 
everything.  No  manner  of  consideration  or  respect 
was  any  longer  shown  them.  Their  jailers  were 
bent  on  treating  them  like  criminals.  September 
21,  1793,  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  Hubert, 
the  substitute  for  the  Communal  attorney,  presented 
himself  with  several  municipals  at  the  Temple  to 
put  into  execution  a  decree  ordaining  that  the  two 
Princesses  should  be  more  tormented  than  they  had 
been.  They  were  to  have  but  one  chamber  thence- 
forward, and  Tison,  who  was  still  doing  their  heavy 
work,  was  to  be  imprisoned  in  one  of  the  turrets. 
The  captives  were  to  be  reduced  to  what  was  strictly 
necessary,  and  no  one  except  the  person  who  brought 
them  wood  and  water  was  to  enter  their  chamber. 


MADAME  ELISABETH  59 

"We  made  our  own  beds,"  writes  Marie  The'r&se  in 
her  journal,  "  and  were  obliged  to  sweep  the  cham- 
ber, which  took  a  long  time,  so  little  were  we  used 
to  it  at  first.  We  had  no  longer  any  one  to  wait 
upon  us.  Hubert  said  to  my  aunt  that  equality  was 
the  first  law  of  the  French  Republic,  and  that  as  no 
other  persons  detained  in  prisons  had  servants,  he 
was  going  to  take  away  Tison.  In  order  to  treat  us 
still  more  severely,  we  were  deprived  of  whatever 
was  convenient,  for  example,  of  the  armchair  used 
by  my  aunt;  we  could  not  have  even  what  was 
necessary.  When  our  meals  arrived,  the  door  was 
closed  abruptly  so  that  we  might  not  see  those  who 
brought  them.  We  could  not  obtain  any  news, 
unless  by  listening  to  the  street-crier,  and  that  very 
indistinctly,  although  we  listened  closely.  We  were 
forbidden  to  go  up  on  the  tower,  and  they  took  away 
our  large  sheets,  fearing  lest,  in  spite  of  the  thick 
bars,  we  should  get  down  from  the  windows;  that 
was  the  pretext.  They  brought  us  coarse  and  dirty 
sheets." 

A  decree  of  the  Commune  dated  September  22, 
1793,  provided  that  the  nourishment  of  the  prisoners 
should  be  greatly  reduced.  At  the  first  meal  which 
followed  this  decree,  Madame  Elisabeth,  far  from 
complaining,  said  to  her  niece :  "  This  is  the  bread  of 
poor  people,  and  we  are  poor  also.  How  many  un- 
fortunates have  still  less !  " 

Let  us  now  read  in  the  journal  of  Marie  The're'se 
the  account  of  the  examination  to  which  she  was 


60  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

subjected  some  days  before  her  mother's  execution : 
"  October  8,  at  noon,  as  we  were  busy  in  setting  our 
chamber  to  rights  and  dressing  ourselves,  Pache, 
Chaumette,  and  David,  members  of  the  Convention, 
with  several  municipals,  arrived.  My  aunt  did  not 
open  the  door  until  she  was  dressed.  Pache,  turning 
to  me,  asked  me  to  go  down  stairs.  My  aunt  wished 
to  follow  me,  but  she  was  refused.  She  asked 
whether  I  would  come  up  again.  Chaumette  assured 
her  of  it,  saying :  '  You  may  rely  on  the  word  of  a 
good  republican;  she  will  come  up.'  I  embraced 
my  aunt,  who  was  all  in  a  tremble,  and  I  went 
down.  I  was  very  much  embarrassed.  It  was  the 
first  time  I  had  ever  found  myself  alone  with  men. 
I  did  not  know  what  they  wanted,  but  I  recom- 
mended my  soul  to  God." 

Madame  Elisabeth  trembled.  Never,  since  her 
arrival  at  the  Temple,  had  she  been  quite  alone 
there.  Deprived,  one  after  another,  of  her  brother, 
her  nephew,  and  her  sister-in-law,  was  she  also  to 
lose  the  last  companion  of  her  captivity?  Was  her 
niece  also  to  be  torn  away  and  not  return?  Thus 
far,  those  who  had  gone  down  had  not  come  up 
again. 

"When  I  came  where  my  brother  was,"  adds  the 
young  Princess,  "I  embraced  him  tenderly;  but 
they  tore  him  out  of  my  arms,  and  told  me  to  go 
into  the  other  room.  Chaumette  made  me  sit 
down;  he  placed  himself  opposite  me.  .  .  .  He 
questioned  me  afterwards  about  a  multitude  of 


MADAME  ELISABETH  61 

villanous  things  of  which  my  mother  and  my  aunt 
were  accused.  I  was  overwhelmed  by  such  horror, 
and  so  indignant,  that  in  spite  of  the  fear  I  experi- 
enced I  could  not  help  saying  that  it  was  infamous. 
There  were  some  things  which  I  did  not  under- 
stand; but  what  I  did  understand  was  so  horrible 
that  I  wept  with  indignation.  They  interrogated 
me  about  Varennes,  and  put  many  questions  to 
which  I  replied  as  best  I  could  without  compromis- 
ing anybody.  I  had  always  heard  my  parents  say 
that  it  was  better  to  die  than  to  compromise  any  one 
whomsoever.  At  last,  at  three  o'clock,  my  examina- 
tion ended;  it  had  begun  at  noon.  I  ardently 
entreated  Chaumette  to  let  me  rejoin  my  mother, 
saying  truly  that  I  had  asked  it  of  my  aunt  more 
than  a  thousand  times.  'I  can  do  nothing  about  it,' 
he  said  to  me.  'What,  sir,  can  you  not  obtain  per- 
mission of  the  Council-General?'  'I  have  no  au- 
thority there.'  He  then  had  me  taken  back  to  my 
room  by  three  municipals,  advising  me  to  say  nothing 
to  my  aunt,  who  was  also  to  be  obliged  to  go  down 
stairs.  .  .  .  On  arriving,  I  threw  myself  into  her 
arms ;  but  they  separated  us  and  bade  her  descend. 
She  came  up  again  at  four  o'clock.  Her  examina- 
tion had  lasted  only  one  hour,  and  mine  three. 
That  was  because  the  deputies  saw  they  could  not 
intimidate  her,  as  they  had  hoped  to  do  a  person  of 
my  age;  but  the  life  I  had  led  for  more  than  four 
years,  and  the  example  of  my  parents,  had  given  me 
more  strength  of  soul." 


62        THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

M.  Ferrand  has  said  (in  the  Eloge  historique  de 
Madame  Elisabeth,  published  at  Ratisbonne  in  1794): 
"All  the  infamies  of  which  they  were  about  to 
accuse  the  Queen  with  regard  to  her  son,  were 
uttered  and  repeated  before  the  angelic  Elisabeth,  as 
they  had  been  before  her  niece.  They  constrained 
innocence  to  listen  to  horrors  which  outraged  nature 
and  caused  it  to  shudder.  Doubtless  they  did  not 
flatter  themselves  that  they  could  obtain  an  avowal 
contrary  to  truth.  But  could  they  even  have  hoped 
to  surprise  certain  words  which  it  would  be  possible 
to  pervert?  Madame  Elisabeth's  defence  was  like 
that  of  Marie  The're'se:  true,  simple,  pure  as  them- 
selves. After  an  examination  which  did  not  fulfil 
the  expectations  of  the  tormentors,  but  which  will 
excite  execration  throughout  all  time,  the  two  Prin- 
cesses found  themselves  once  more  together,  but  still 
terrified  by  the  images  with  which  their  chaste 
imaginations  had  been  sullied.  '  O  my  child ! ' 
exclaimed  Madame  Elisabeth,  extending  her  hands 
to  her  niece.  A  sad  silence  expressed  better  than 
any  words  the  sentiments  they  experienced.  For 
the  first  time,  they  avoided  each  other's  glance.  At 
last  their  lips  opened  to  let  the  same  words  escape, 
and  they  fell  on  their  knees,  as  if  it  were  theirs  to 
expiate  all  that  they  had  blushed  to  hear." 

What  had  become  of  Marie  Antoinette  ?  The  two 
captives,  who  had  at  first  received  some  tidings  of 
the  unfortunate  Queen,  were  soon  to  be  plunged 
into  complete  uncertainty.  A  few  tender-hearted 


MADAME  ELISABETH  63 

persons  had  during  several  weeks  found  means  at 
the  risk  of  their  lives  to  convey  news  to  them  from 
the  Conciergerie  by  the  aid  of  Turgy,  one  of  those 
employed  in  the  interior  service  of  the  Temple  tower. 
One  of  Louis  XVI.  's  former  personal  attendants  had 
been  courageous  enough  to  make  his  way  inside  the 
Conciergerie.  Madame  Richard,  wife  of  the  prison 
porter,  had  taken  him  by  the  hand,  and,  leading  him 
aside,  had  said:  "Trust  yourself  to  me.  Who  are 
you?  What  brings  you  here?  Hide  nothing  from 
me."  Encouraged  by  this  friendly  invitation,  Hue 
made  himself  known  to  this  woman.  She  responded 
kindly  to  all  his  questions.  "You  see  the  motive 
which  brings  me,"  he  said  to  her.  "To  give  the 
Queen  news  of  her  children,  and  to  inform  them  and 
Madame  Elisabeth  of  the  Queen's  condition,  is  my 
only  object.  It  is  meritorious  in  you  to  second  me." 
Madame  Richard  promised  him  and  kept  her  word. 
She  apprised  Marie  Antoinette  that  Frangois  Hue 
had  penetrated  even  into  her  prison.  "  What !  even 
here !  "  cried  the  Queen.  Success  had  justified  the 
hardihood  of  the  devoted  servitor,  and  for  several 
weeks  he  had  the  consolaton  of  procuring  news 
of  the  captive  of  the  Conciergerie  for  the  captives 
of  the  Temple.  But  this  soon  came  to  an  end. 
Turgy,  the  medium  of  this  mysterious  correspon- 
dence, was  suspected  and  sent  away  from  the  Tem- 
ple. Madame  Elisabeth  addressed  him  this  last  note : 
"  October  11,  at  2.15.  I  am  very  much  afflicted;  take 
care  of  yourself  until  we  are  more  fortunate  and 


64  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

can  reward  you.  Take  with  you  the  consolation  of 
having  well  served  good  and  unhappy  masters. 
Advise  Fiddle  [Toulan]  not  to  risk  himself  too  much 
for  our  signals  [by  the  horn].  If  by  chance  you  see 
Madame  Mallemain,  give  her  news  of  us,  and  tell 
her  I  think  of  her.  Adieu,  honest  man  and  faithful 
subject."  Two  days  later,  October  13,  Hue  was 
arrested.  Madame  Elisabeth  and  her  niece  no 
longer  heard  anything.  Everybody  shrank  from 
adding  to  the  anguish  of  the  Temple  the  immense 
grief  contained  in  the  message:  "The  Queen  has 
ascended  the  scaffold."  Marie  The'rdse  has  written 
in  her  journal:  "My  aunt  and  I  were  ignorant 
of  my  mother's  death;  although  we  had  heard  her 
condemnation  cried  out  by  a  street-crier,  the  hope  so 
natural  to  the  unhappy  made  us  think  they  had 
spared  her.  We  refused  to  believe  in  a  general 
desertion.  Moreover,  I  do  not  yet  know,  how  things 
occurred  outside,  nor  whether  I  shall  ever  leave  this 
prison,  although  they  give  me  hopes  of  doing  so. 
There  were  moments  when,  despite  our  hopes  in  the 
Powers,  we  experienced  the  keenest  anxieties  on 
account  of  my  mother,  seeing  the  rage  of  this 
unhappy  people  against  all  of  us.  I  remained  in 
this  cruel  doubt  for  a  year  and  a  half;  it  was  then 
only  that  I  learned  of  the  death  of  my  venerated 
mother." 

Let  us  see  now  what  took  place  in  the  Temple 
after  the  execution  of  the  Queen,  still  leaving  the  nar- 
ration to  the  young  captive,  whose  story  is  more  af- 


MADAME  ELISABETH  65 

f ecting  than  all  the  memoirs :  "  We  learned  the  death 
of  the  Duke  of  Orleans  from  the  street-criers ;  it  was 
the  only  piece  of  news  that  reached  us  during  the 
winter.  However,  the  searches  began  anew,  and  we 
were  treated  with  great  severity.  My  aunt,  who  had 
had  a  cautery  on  her  arm  ever  since  the  Revolution, 
had  great  difficulty  in  obtaining  what  was  necessary 
for  dressing  it;  they  refused  for  a  long  time  to  give 
it ;  but  at  last,  one  day,  a  municipal  officer  remon- 
strated against  the  inhumanity  of  such  a  proceeding, 
and  sent  for  ointment.  They  deprived  me  also  of 
the  means  to  make  the  decoction  of  herbs  which  my 
aunt  made  me  take  every  morning  for  my  health. 
Not  having  fish  any  longer,  she  asked  for  eggs  or 
other  dishes  suitable  for  fast  days ;  they  were  refused 
with  the  remark  that  to  'equality'  there  was  no 
difference  between  days;  that  there  were  no  weeks 
any  longer,  but  only  decades.  They  brought  us  a 
new  almanac,  but  we  did  not  look  at  it. 

"Another  day  when  my  aunt  asked  for  fast-day 
food,  she  was  told:  'But,  citizeness,  you  don't  seem 
to  know  what  has  happened;  only  fools  believe  in 
all  that  nowadays.'  She  did  not  ask  again.  The 
searches  were  continued,  especially  in  November.  It 
was  ordered  that  we  should  be  searched  three  times 
a  day.  One  of  them  lasted  from  four  until  half-past 
eight  o'clock  in  the  evening.  The  four  municipals 
who  made  it  were  thoroughly  drunk.  No  idea  can 
be  formed  of  their  remarks,  insults,  and  oaths,  dur- 
ing four  hours.  They  took  away  trifles,  such  as  our 


66  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

hats,  cards  with  kings  on  them,  and  some  books  with 
escutcheons;  however,  they  left  our  religious  books 
after  making  a  thousand  impure  and  stupid  speeches. 
.  .  .  They  said  'thou '  to  us  all  winter.  \Ve  de- 
spised all  the  vexations;  but  this  last  degree  of 
rudeness  always  caused  my  aunt  and  me  to  blush." 

In  the  midst  of  so  many  sufferings,  the  young 
Marie  The're'se  still  had  one  supreme  consolation: 
the  presence  of  Madame  Elisabeth.  Even  into  the 
gloom  of  the  prison  this  holy  woman  shed  a  nameless 
pure  and  gentle  radiance.  The  Temple  merited  its 
name;  it  was  verily  a  sanctuary,  the  sanctuary  of 
piety  and  sorrow.  The  conversations  between  aunt 
and  niece  often  took  place  in  darkness.  The  calm- 
ness of  night  gave  a  still  more  persuasive,  affecting 
accent  to  the  exhortations  of  the  sublime  instruc- 
tress. "The  sufferings  of  this  life,"  said  she,  "bear 
no  proportion  to  the  future  glory  they  enable  us  to 
merit.  Has  not  Jesus  Christ  gone  before  us  carry- 
ing His  cross?  Remember,  my  child,  the  words 
your  father  addressed  you  on  the  eve  of  the  day 
when,  for  the  first  time,  you  were  to  receive  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb.  He  said  to  you:  'Religion  is 
the  source  of  our  happiness  and  our  support  in 
adversity;  do  not  suppose  you  will  be  sheltered 
from  it;  you  know  not,  my  daughter,  what  Provi- 
dence has  designed  for  you. ' ' 

No  preacher's  sermons  could  have  impressed  the 
imagination  or  touched  the  heart  of  Marie  The're'se 
more  profoundly  than  the  counsels  of  Madame  Elisa- 


MADAME  ELISABETH  67 

beth.  The  young  captive  read  and  re-read  the 
prayer-books  they  had  been  allowed  to  keep,  and  on 
which  the  conduct  of  her  aunt  was  a  living  com- 
mentary. "My  aunt,"  she  says  in  her  journal, 
"  kept  the  whole  Lent,  although  deprived  of  Lenten 
food ;  she  ate  no  breakfast ;  at  dinner  she  took  a  bowl 
of  coffee  with  milk  (it  was  her  breakfast  which  she 
kept  over),  and  in  the  evening  she  ate  nothing  but 
bread.  She  bade  me  eat  whatever  they  brought  me, 
as  I  had  not  reached  the  prescribed  age  for  absti- 
nence ;  but  nothing  could  be  more  edifying  for  her. 
She  had  not  failed  to  observe  the  duties  prescribed 
by  religion,  even  when  refused  fasting  diet.  At 
the  beginning  of  spring  they  took  away  our  candle, 
and  we  went  to  bed  when  we  could  not  see  any 
longer."  With  the  springtime,  arrived  the  period 
when  the  orphan  of  the  Temple  was  to  be  deprived 
forever  of  the  consolations  of  Madame  Elisabeth,  and 
to  remain  alone  in  her  prison. 


Ill 

THE  DEATH  OF  MADAME  ELISABETH 


several  weeks  nothing  had  happened  at 
_J_  the  Temple.  The  two  captives  might  have 
believed  the  tormentors  had  forgotten  them.  But 
what  occurred  on  the  9th  of  May?  Marie  The'rdse's 
journal  tells  us:  "On  that  day,  just  as  we  were 
going  to  bed,  they  drew  the  bolts  and  came  to  knock 
at  our  door.  My  aunt  said  that  she  would  put  on 
her  dress  ;  they  replied  that  they  could  not  wait  so 
long,  and  knocked  so  hard  one  would  think  they 
were  breaking  in  the  door.  She  opened  it  when  she 
was  dressed.  They  said  to  her:  'Citizeness,  be  so 
good  as  to  go  down  stairs.'  'And  my  niece?  '  'She 
will  be  attended  to  afterwards.'  My  aunt  embraced 
me,  and  to  calm  me  said  she  was  going  to  come  up 
again.  'No,  citizeness,'  said  some  one,  'you  are 
not  coming  up  again;  take  your  cap  and  go  down.' 
Then  they  heaped  insults  and  rude  speeches  on  her  ; 
she  endured  them  patiently,  put  on  her  cap,  em- 
braced me  again,  and  told  me  to  preserve  courage 
and  firmness,  to  hope  in  God  always,  to  profit  by 
the  good  religious  principles  my  parents  had  given 
me,  and  not  fail  to  observe  the  last  injunctions  of 
68 


THE  DEATH  OF  MADAME  ELISABETH          69 

my  father  and  mother.  She  went  out.  On  arriving 
below  she  was  asked  for  her  pockets,  which  had 
nothing  in  them ;  this  lasted  a  long  time  because  the 
municipals  drew  up  a  report  in  order  to  discharge 
themselves  of  responsibility  for  her  person.  At  last, 
after  many  insults,  she  departed  with  an  usher  of  the 
tribunal,  got  into  a  cab  and  arrived  at  the  Concier- 
gerie,  where  she  passed  the  night." 

The  next  day,  May  10,  1794,  Madame  Elisabeth 
appeared  before  the  revolutionary  tribunal.  Dumas, 
the  president,  asked  her  the  following  questions: 
"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  —  "  Elisabeth  Marie. "  "  Your 
age  ?  "  —  "  Thirty  years. "  "  Where  were  you  born  ?  " 
-  "  At  Versailles. "  "  Where  do  you  reside  ?  "  —  "  In 
Paris."  Then  the  act  of  accusation  was  read:  — 

"  Antoine  Quentin  Fouquier  states  that  the  people 
owe  all  the  evils  under  whose  burden  they  have 
groaned  for  centuries  to  the  Capet  family.  It  was 
at  the  moment  when  excessive  oppression  had  caused 
the  people  to  break  their  chains,  that  this  entire 
family  joined  their  forces  to  plunge  them  anew  into 
a  still  more  cruel  bondage  than  that  from  which  they 
had  escaped.  The  crimes  of  every  sort,  the  accumu- 
lated villanies  of  Capet,  the  Messalina  Antoinette, 
the  two  Capet  brothers,  and  of  Elisabeth  are  too  well 
known  to  make  it  necessary  to  retrace  the  horrible 
picture  here.  They  are  written  in  the  annals  of  the 
Revolution  in  characters  of  blood,  and  the  unheard-of 
atrocities  exercised  by  the  barbarous  SmigrSs  or  the 
bloody  satellites  of  despots,  the  murders,  conflagra- 


70  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

tions,  and  ravages;  in  short,  these  assassinations 
unknown  to  the  most  ferocious  monsters  "which  they 
commit  upon  French  territory,  are  still  ordered  by 
this  detestable  family  for  the  sake  of  delivering 
a  great  nation  to  the  despotism  and  fury  of  a  few 
individuals.  Elisabeth  has  shared  in  all  these 
crimes;  she  has  co-operated  in  all  the  plots  and 
conspiracies  formed  by  her  infamous  brothers,  the 
profligate  and  shameless  Antoinette,  and  the  entire 
horde  of  conspirators  gathered  around  them.  .  .  . 

"  Elisabeth  had  planned  with  Capet  and  Antoinette 
the  massacre  of  the  citizens  of  Paris  on  the  immortal 
10th  of  August;  she  kept  vigil  in  the  hope  of 'wit- 
nessing this  nocturnal  carnage,  and  by  her  discourse 
encouraged  the  young  persons  whom  fanatical  priests 
had  conducted  to  the  palace  for  that  purpose.  .  .  . 
In  fine,  since  the  deserved  execution  of  the  guilt- 
iest tyrant  who  ever  disgraced  human  nature,  she 
has  been  seen  inciting  to  the  re-establishment  of 
tyranny,  and  lavishing,  with  Antoinette,  the  homage 
of  royalty  and  the  pretended  honors  of  the  throne  on 
Capet's  son." 

After  reading  the  act  of  accusation,  the  president 
interrogated  Madame  Elisabeth.  These  are  some  of 
the  questions  and  answers :  — 

"Would  you  tell  us  what  prevented  you  from 
going  to  bed  on  the  night  of  August  9-10 ? "  —  "I  did 
not  go  to  bed  because  the  constituent  bodies  had 
come  to  acquaint  my  brother  with  the  agitation  and 
disorder  existing  among  the  inhabitants  of  Paris." 


THE  DEATH  OF  MADAME  ELISABETH          71 

"Did  you  not  assist  the  assassins  sent  by  your 
brother  to  the  Champs  Elyse*es  against  the  brave 
Marseillais  by  dressing  their  wounds  yourself  ? " —  "I 
never  knew  that  my  brother  had  sent  assassins  against 
any  one  whatever;  if  I  happened  to  give  aid  to  any 
injured  persons,  I  was  led  to  dress  their  wounds  by 
humanity  alone ;  I  had  no  need  to  inquire  the  cause 
of  their  injuries  in  order  to  bus}r  myself  in  relieving 
them;  I  made  no  merit  of  doing  so,  and  I  do  not 
imagine  that  any  one  can  impute  it  to  me  as  a 
crime." 

President  Dumas  responded:  "Will  the  accused 
Elisabeth,  whose  plan  of  defence  is  to  deny  all  she 
is  accused  of,  have  the  honesty  to  admit  that  she  has 
cherished  in  young  Capet  the  hope  of  succeeding  to 
his  father's  throne,  and  has  thus  incited  to  royahy?" 
—  "I  talked  familiarly  with  that  unfortunate  child, 
who  was  dear  to  me  on  more  than  one  account,  and 
naturally  I  administered  the  consolations  which 
seemed  to  me  calculated  to  compensate  him  for  the 
loss  of  those  who  had  given  him  life." 

Chauveau-Lagarde  had  the  courage  to  defend  the 
accused  afterwards.  He  said  that  her  replies,  far 
from  condemning  her,  ought  to  procure  honor  for  her 
in  the  sight  of  all,  since  they  proved  nothing  but 
the  goodness  of  her  heart  and  the  heroism  of  her 
friendship.  The  intrepid  advocate  ended  his  speech 
by  saying  that  instead  of  a  defence  he  had  nothing 
to  offer  for  Madame  Elisabeth  but  his  apology ;  but 
that,  finding  it  impossible  to  find  one  worthy  of  her, 


72  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

he  had  but  one  observation  left  to  make,  namely, 
that  the  Princess  who  had  been  the  most  perfect 
model  of  all  virtues  at  the  court  of  France,  could 
not  be  the  enemy  of  the  French. 

Then  President  Dumas  furiously  apostrophized 
Chauveau-Lagarde,  reproaching  him  with  audacity 
in  daring  to  speak  of  the  "  pretended  virtues  of  the 
accused,  and  thus  corrupting  public  morals."  It 
was  easy  to  see  that  Madame  Elisabeth,  who  until 
then  had  remained  tranquil,  and  as  it  were,  insensi- 
ble to  her  own  danger,  was  moved  by  those  to  which 
her  defender  had  just  exposed  himself. 

Afterwards,  the  president  put  the  following  ques- 
tions to  the  jurors :  "  Is  it  certain  that  there  existed 
plots  and  conspiracies  formed  by  Capet,  his  wife 
and  family,  his  agents  and  accomplices,  in  conse- 
quence of  which  there  have  been  provocations  to  for- 
eign war  on  the  part  of  allied  tyrants,  and  to  civil 
war  in  the  interior,  that  aid  in  the  shape  of  men  and 
money  has  been  furnished  to  the  enemy,  troops  have 
been  assembled,  arrangements  been  made,  and  chiefs 
appointed  to  assassinate  the  people,  annihilate  lib- 
erty, and  re-establish  despotism?  Is  it  established 
that  Elisabeth  is  convicted  of  all  this?"  The  jurors 
having  responded  affirmatively,  the  holy  Princess  was 
condemned  to  death.  That  very  day,  at  four  in  the 
afternoon,  she  left  the  Conciergerie  to  be  taken  to 
the  scaffold. 

As  she  was  leaving  the  tribunal,  Fouquier-Tin- 
ville  said  to  the  president:  "It  must  be  admitted, 


THE  DEATH  OF  MADAME  ELISABETH          73 

however,  that  she  has  not  uttered  a  complaint." 
"What  has  Elisabeth  of  France  to  complain  of?" 
answered  Dumas,  with  dismal  and  sarcastic  mirth. 
"  Haven't  we  formed  a  court  of  aristocrats  to-day 
that  is  worthy  of  her?  Nothing  need  prevent  her 
from  thinking  herself  still  in  the  salons  of  Versailles 
when  she  finds  herself  surrounded  by  a  loyal  nobility 
at  the  foot  of  the  sacred  guillotine." 

The  court  of  aristocrats  mentioned  by  the  public 
accuser  comprised  the  twenty-three  victims  con- 
demned to  perish  on  the  same  scaffold  as  the  Prin- 
cess; among  others,  the  Marchioness  of  Se*nozan, 
aged  seventy-six ;  the  Marchioness  of  Crussol  d' Am- 
boise,  aged  sixty-four;  Madame  de  Montmorin,  widow 
of  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs;  her  son,  aged 
twenty;  M.  de  Lome'nie,  former  Minister  of  War; 
and  the  Countess  Rosset.  The  twenty-four  victims 
were  led  into  the  hall  of  the  condemned,  to  await 
the  fatal  cart.  There  Madame  Elisabeth  exhorted 
her  companions  in  torture  "with  a  presence  of  mind, 
an  elevation,  and  an  unction  which  fortified  them 
all,"  as  her  niece  has  said.  Madame  de  Montmorin 
exclaimed  through  her  sobs :  "  I  am  most  willing  to 
die,  but  I  cannot  see  my  child  die."  "You  love 
your  son,"  said  Madame  Elisabeth  on  this,  "and  you 
are  unwilling  that  he  should  accompany  you !  You 
are  going  to  find  the  happiness  of  heaven,  and  you 
desire  him  to  remain  on  this  earth  where  there  is 
now  nothing  but  torments  and  afflictions ! "  At 
these  words  the  poor  mother,  filled  with  the  ecstasy 


74  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

of  martyrdom,  clasped  her  boy  in  her  arms :  "  Come ! 
come ! "  she  cried,  "  we  will  ascend  the  scaffold 
together." 

Madame  Elisabeth  resumed  her  pious  exhortations. 
"We  are  not  asked  to  sacrifice  our  faith,  like  the 
ancient  martyrs,"  said  she;  "all  that  is  demanded 
of  us  is  to  abandon  our  miserable  life ;  let  us  make 
this  poor  offering  to  God  with  resignation." 

Thus  spoke  the  saintly  Princess  in  the  hall  of  the 
condemned  to  death  —  that  long,  narrow,  gloomy 
hall,  separated  from  the  clerk's  office  by  a  door  and 
a  glass  partition,  and  furnished  only  with  wooden 
benches  placed  against  the  wall.  The  sight  of  the 
Conciergerie  recalled  to  her  memory  all  that  Marie 
Antoinette  had  suffered  there.  As  yet  no  one  had 
found  courage  to  tell  the  sister  of  Louis  XVI.  how 
the  martyr-queen  had  perished.  Her  uncertainty  con- 
cerning the  fate  of  the  august  victim  was  to  last  for 
several  minutes  longer.  She  was  about  to  be  led  to 
the  Place  of  the  Revolution  —  the  place  where,  as 
she  knew,  her  brother  had  been  executed,  and  where 
a  remark  made  by  some  one  in  the  crowd  was  soon 
to  apprise  her  that  the  Queen  had  also  suffered. 

The  last  summons  is  heard.  The  doors  of  the 
prison  open.  Madame  Elisabeth  rides  in  the  same 
cart  with  Madame  de  Se'nozan  and  Madame  de 
Crussol  d'Amboise.  When  she  is  passing  the  Pont 
Neuf,  the  white  handkerchief  that  covers  her  head 
falls  off.  All  eyes  turn  toward  her  bare  head,  and 
recognize  the  calmness  and  serenity  of  her  features. 


THE  DEATH  OF  MADAME  ELISABETH          75 

On  reaching  the  Place  of  the  Revolution,  —  formerly 
Place  Louis  XV.,  —  she  alights  first.  The  twenty- 
three  other  victims  follow  her.  All  are  ranged  in 
front  of  the  guillotine.  All  are  admirable  for  their 
courage.  The  exhortations  of  the  Princess  have 
been  fruitful.  The  first  name  called  by  the  execu- 
tioner is  that  of  Madame  de  Crussol  d'Amboise. 
She  bows  to  Madame  Elisabeth,  and  says :  "  Ah ! 
Madame,  if  Your  Royal  Highness  would  deign  to 
embrace  me,  I  should  have  all  that  I  desire."  "  Will- 
ingly," replies  the  Princess,  "and  with  all  my 
heart."  The  other  condemned  women  obtain  the 
same  honor.  As  for  the  men,  they  kiss  respectfully 
the  hand  of  Louis  XVI. 's  sister.  The  executions 
begin.  Several  heads  have  already  fallen  when  a 
jeering  voice  from  the  crowd  pressing  around  the 
guillotine  cries :  "  It  is  all  very  fine,  this  salaaming 
to  her;  there  she  is  now,  like  the  Austrian  woman!  " 
Madame  Elisabeth  understands.  Thus  she  learns 
the  fate  of  her  sister-in-law,  and  says  to  herself, 
"  May  we  meet  again  in  heaven !  " 

The  victims  ascend  the  scaffold  one  after  another, 
and  receive  the  baptism  of  blood  with  a  pious  recol- 
lection like  that  of  the  faithful  approaching  the  table 
of  the  Lord.  While  the  knife  is  severing  the  heads, 
Madame  Elisabeth  recites  the  De  Profundis.  She 
is  to  be  executed  last.  The  tormentors  doubtless 
hope  that  the  sight  of  twenty-three  heads  falling 
before  her  own  will  deprive  her  of  courage  and 
dignity  to  meet  her  death.  They  are  disappointed 


76  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

in  their  expectation.  Dying  as  she  had  lived, 
Madame  Elisabeth  is  sublime  up  to  the  last  hour, 
the  last  minute  of  her  saintly  existence.  When  the 
twenty-third  victim  comes  to  bow  before  her :  "  Cour- 
age and  faith  in  the  mercy  of  God !  "  says  the  sister 
of  Louis  XVI.  Her  turn  has  come  at  last. 

A  sovereign  mounting  the  steps  of  her  throne 
would  be  less  majestic  than  the  pious  Princess 
climbing  those  of  the  scaffold,  the  pedestal  of  an 
undying  glory.  As  they  are  fastening  her  to  the 
fatal  plank,  her  fichu  falls  to  the  ground  and 
allows  a  silver  medal  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  to 
be  seen.  The  executioner's  assistant,  instead  of 
replacing  the  fichu  on  her  bosom,  attempts  to  remove 
this  pious  emblem.  "  Cover  me,  sir,  in  the  name  of 
your  mother!"  These  are  the  last  words  of  the 
Princess.  Her  head  falls,  but  this  time  the  crowd 
does  not  give  way  to  its  habitual  fury.  The  cries 
of  "  Long  live  the  Republic !  "  are  not  heard.  Every- 
body feels  that  the  blood  of  innocence  has  just  been 
shed. 

It  was  not  until  several  months  later  that  Marie 
The'rdse  learned  the  fate  of  her  venerated  aunt. 
When  the  news  was  told  her,  she  would  not  believe 
it;  such  a  crime  seemed  incredible,  even  after  all 
the  atrocities  of  the  Terror.  Then  she  wrote  in  her 
journal  this  profoundly  touching  page,  an  affecting 
tribute  of  eternal  gratitude  and  admiration :  "  Marie 
Philippine  Elisabeth  He'le'ne,  sister  of  King  Louis 
XVI.,  died  May  10,  1794,  aged  thirty  years,  after 


THE  DEATH  OF  MADAME  ELISABETH          77 

having  been  always  a  model  of  virtue.  She  gave 
herself  to  God  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  and  thought  of 
nothing  but  her  salvation.  Since  1790,  when  I  was 
better  able  to  appreciate  her,  I  saw  nothing  in  her 
but  religion,  love  of  God,  horror  of  sin,  gentleness, 
piety,  modesty,  and  a  great  attachment  to  her  family, 
for  whom  she  sacrificed  her  life,  never  having  been 
willing  to  leave  the  King  and  Queen.  In  a  word, 
she  was  a  princess  worthy  of  the  blood  from  which 
she  sprang.  I  cannot  say  enough  concerning  the 
kind  actions  she  performed  towards  me,  and  which 
ended  only  with  her  life.  She  considered  and  cared 
for  me  as  if  I  were  her  daughter ;  and  for  my  part,  I 
honored  her  as  a  second  mother ;  I  had  promised  her 
all  the  love  of  one.  They  say  that  we  resemble 
each  other  very  much  in  countenance.  I  feel  that 
I  have  somewhat  of  her  character.  May  I  have  all 
her  virtues,  and  go  to  rejoin  her  and  my  father  and 
mother  in  the  bosom  of  God,  where  I  doubt  not  they 
are  enjoying  the  rewards  of  a  death  so  meritorious 
for  them!" 


IV 

SOLITUDE 

WHEN  Madame  Elisabeth  departed,  Marie 
The're'se  found  herself  alone  in  her  prison. 
One  after  another  she  had  lost  all  her  companions  in 
captivity,  —  her  father,  her  brother,  her  mother,  and 
her  aunt.  Thenceforward  began  the  separate  system 
of  confinement,  isolation,  solitude.  What  did  she 
then  experience  ?  She  herself  shall  tell  us. 

"  I  was  left  in  great  desolation  when  I  saw  myself 
separated  from  my  aunt ;  I  did  not  know  what  had 
become  of  her,  and  no  one  would  tell  me.  I  spent 
a  very  wretched  night,  and  yet,  although  I  was  very 
anxious  about  her  fate,  I  was  far  from  believing  that 
I  was  to  lose  her  in  a  few  hours.  Sometimes  I 
persuaded  myself  that  she  was  to  be  sent  away  from 
France ;  but  when  I  remembered  how  they  had  taken 
her,  all  my  fears  revived.  The  next  day  I  asked 
the  municipal  officers  what  had  become  of  her ;  they 
said  she  had  gone  to  take  the  air;  I  renewed  my 
request  to  rejoin  my  mother,  since  I  was  separated 
from  my  aunt,  and  they  replied  that  they  would  talk 
about  it."  Marie  Antoinette  had  been  dead  for 
seven  months,  and  her  unhappy  daughter  did  not  yet 
78 


SOLITUDE  79 


know  she  was  an  orphan !  Not  one,  even  among  the 
most  savage  Terrorists,  had  dared  to  give  her  the 
fatal  news. 

"They  came  afterwards,"  adds  the  young  captive, 
"  to  bring  me  the  key  of  the  wardrobe  containing  my 
aunt's  linen;  I  asked  to  send  her  some,  as  she  had 
none;  they  told  me  it  could  not  be  done.  Seeing 
that  whenever  I  asked  the  municipals  to  take  me  to 
my  mother  or  to  give  me  news  of  my  aunt,  they 
always  replied  that  they  would  talk  about  it;  and 
remembering  that  my  aunt  had  told  me  that  if  ever 
I  was  left  alone  it  would  be  my  duty  to  ask  for  a 
woman,  I  did  so  out  of  obedience,  but  with  repug- 
nance, feeling  sure  that  I  would  either  be  refused, 
or  obtain  some  vile  woman.'  In  fact,  when  I  did 
make  this  request  to  the  municipals,  they  told  me  it 
was  unnecessary.  They  redoubled  their  severity, 
and  took  away  the  knives  they  had  given  me,  saying : 
'Tell  us,  citizeness,  have  you  many  knives?'  — 'No, 
gentlemen,  only  two.'  'And  have  you  none  in  your 
dressing-case,  nor  any  scissors ?' — 'No,  gentlemen.' 
Another  time  they  took  away  my  tinder-box ;  having 
found  the  stove  hot,  they  said:  'Might  one  know 
why  you  made  a  fire?'-  — 'To  put  my  feet  in  hot 
water.'  'What  did  you  light  the  fire  with?'  — 
'With  the  tinder-box. '  '  Who  gave  it  to  you  ? '  — ' I 
do  not  know.'  'Precisely;  we  are  going  to  take  it 
away  from  you.  We  do  it  for  your  good,  lest  you 
might  fall  asleep  and  burn  yourself  near  the  fire. 
You  have  nothing  else? '  — 'No,  gentlemen.'  Their 


80  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

visits  and  such  scenes  as  this  were  frequent;  but 
except  when  I  was  positively  interrogated  I  never 
spoke,  not  even  to  those  who  brought  my  food." 

On  the  day  following  Madame  Elisabeth's  death, 
a  man  to  whom  the  municipal  officers  showed  great 
respect,  presented  himself  in  the  prison  of  the  young 
Princess.  She  did  not  know  him.  Suspecting  that 
she  was  in  the  presence  of  some  powerful  individual, 
she  did  not  speak  a  word  to  him,  but  merely  handed 
him  a  paper  on  which  these  lines  were  written :  "  My 
brother  is  ill ;  I  have  written  to  the  Convention  for 
permission  to  nurse  him;  the  Convention  has  not 
yet  answered  me;  I  reiterate  my  request."  The 
man  was  Robespierre.  After  giving  him  the  paper, 
the  prisoner  went  on  reading  without  raising  her 
eyes  to  his  face.  She  thus  describes  the  visit  in  her 
journal:  "One  day  there  came  a  man  —  I  think  it 
was  Robespierre;  the  municipals  showed  him  great 
respect.  His  visit  was  a  secret  for  the  people  in  the 
tower,  who  either  did  not  know  who  he  was,  or  were 
unwilling  to  tell  me;  he  looked  at  me  insolently, 
glanced  over  my  books,  and  after  searching  with  the 
municipals,  he  went  away." 

After  her  aunt's  departure,  Marie  The're'se  spent 
nearly  fifteen  months  alone,  a  prey  to  sadness  and 
the  most  painful  reflections,  asking  for  nothing,  and 
mending  even  her  own  shoes  and  stockings.  This 
graceful  and  affecting  captive  in  her  sixteenth  year 
impresses  the  imagination  and  moves  the  heart. 
One  thinks  of  her  at  night,  in  her  cruel  solitude, 


SOLITUDE  81 


listening  to  some  distant  noise  which  may  be  a 
signal  of  deliverance,  but  is  more  probably  a  signal 
of  death.  She  pays  close  attention.  It  is  a  passer-by, 
who,  in  going  through  the  adjoining  streets,  hums 
at  the  risk  of  his  life  some  royalist  refrain,  whose 
echo  reaches  the  prisoner.  At  other  times  hawkers 
cry  their  odious  pamphlets  and  shameless  journals 
in  the  darkness,  or  drunken  men  chant  the  Marseil- 
laise or  howl  the  Ca  ira.  But  there  is  one  angelic 
voice  whose  pious  harmonies  rise  above  all  these 
human  discords.  It  is  that  of  Madame  Elisabeth; 
the  ear  does  not  hear  it,  but  the  soul  does.  The 
dead  woman  still  speaks.  Defuncta  adhuc  loquitur. 
And  through  the  silence  of  solitude  and  the  dark- 
ness, the  echo  of  this  mysterious  and  sublime  voice 
from  beyond  the  tomb,  penetrates  the  dismal  Temple 
tower  and  inspires  the  orphan  with  the  true  senti- 
ments of  a  Christian.  Madame  Elisabeth  continues 
in  death  the  work  she  began  in  life,  and  it  is  she 
who  gives  her  niece  the  moral  and  material  energy 
indispensable  to  endure  such  tortures. 

In  the  month  of  September,  1795,  the  Duchess  of 
Tourzel,  being  authorized  to  pay  the  prisoner  a  visit, 
asked  how  it  was  that  a  person  so  sensitive  as  she 
did  not  succumb  under  such  a  weight  of  sorrows ;  to 
which  question  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie 
Antoinette  answered:  "Without  religion  it  would 
have  been  impossible.  Religion  was  my  only  re- 
source, and  it  procured  for  me  the  only  consolations 
of  which  my  heart  could  be  susceptible.  I  had 


82  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

preserved  my  Aunt  Elisabeth's  books  of  devotion,  I 
read  them,  I  recalled  her  counsels  to  mind,  I  sought 
never  to  deviate  from  them,  and  to  follow  them 
exactly.  On  embracing  me  for  the  last  time  and 
inciting  me  to  courage  and  resignation,  she  posi- 
tively enjoined  me  to  ask  that  a  woman  might  be 
placed  with  me.  Although  I  infinitely  preferred 
solitude  to  any  one  they  would  have  given  me  at  the 
time,  my  respect  for  my  aunt's  wishes  did  not  per- 
mit me  to  hesitate.  They  refused,  and  I  was  very 
glad  of  it. 

"  My  aunt,  who  foresaw  only  too  clearly  the  mis- 
fortunes in  store  for  me,  had  accustomed  me  to  wait 
on  myself  and  to  need  no  assistance.  She  had  so 
regulated  my  life  that  every  hour  was  occupied ;  the 
care  of  my  room,  prayer,  reading,  work,  —  all  had 
their  own  time.  She  had  habituated  me  to  make  my 
bed  alone,  to  comb  my  hair,  and  dress  myself;  more- 
over, she  had  neglected  nothing  which  could  contrib- 
ute to  my  health.  She  made  me  sprinkle  water  about, 
so  as  to  freshen  the  air  of  my  room,  and  had  also 
required  me  to  walk  very  fast  for  an  hour,  with  a 
watch  in  my  hand,  in  order  to  prevent  stagnation 
of  the  humors." 

The  young  girl  followed  these  prescriptions  of 
moral  and  physical  hygiene  to  the  letter.  It  was 
this  that  saved  her,  almost  as  if  by  miracle.  "  For 
myself,"  she  says  in  her  journal,  "I  asked  nothing 
but  mere  necessaries;  sometimes  they  were  rudely 
refused.  But  I  could  at  least  keep  myself  clean ;  I 


SOLITUDE  83 


had  soap  and  water.  I  swept  the  room  every  day; 
I  had  it  done  by  nine  o'clock,  when  they  came  to 
bring  my  breakfast.  I  had  no  lights;  but  in  the 
long  days  I  suffered  less  from  this  privation.  They 
would  no  longer  give  me  books;  I  had  only  pious 
ones  and  some  travels  which  I  had  read  a  thousand 
times;  I  had  also  some  knitting,  which  bored  me 
dreadfully." 

Despite  an  energy  truly  wonderful  in  so  young  a 
person,  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  came  very  near 
dying  in  the  Temple,  like  her  brother.  "  When  she 
heard  the  general  alarm  beaten,"  says  the  Duchess 
of  Tourzel  in  her  Memoirs,  "she  experienced  a 
gleam  of  hope ;  for  in  her  sad  condition,  any  change 
seemed  for  the  better,  since  she  had  no  fear  of  death. 
One  day  she  thought  she  had  reached  the  term  of  her 
troubles,  and  she  beheld  death  approaching  with  the 
calmness  of  innocence  and  virtue.  She  was  so  ill 
that  she  lost  consciousness,  and  when  she  awoke  as 
from  profound  slumber,  she  knew  not  how  long  she 
had  remained  in  this  state.  Notwithstanding  all 
her  courage,  she  owned  to  us  that  she  was  so  weary 
of  her  profound  solitude  that  she  said  to  herself:  'If 
they  should  end  by  putting  any  person  with  me  who 
was  not  a  monster,  I  feel  that  I  could  not  avoid 
loving  her. ' ' 

On  the  day  when  Robespierre  fell  —  the  9th  Ther- 
mi dor  (July  27,  1794)  —  Marie  Th^rSse,  alarmed  by 
the  tumult  whose  echoes  reached  the  Temple,  thought 
herself  lost.  "I  heard  them  beat  the  general  alarm," 


84  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

she  says,  "  and  sound  the  tocsin ;  I  was  very  uneasy. 
The  municipals  who  were  at  the  Temple  did  not 
budge.  When  they  brought  my  dinner,  I  dared  not 
ask  what  was  going  on." 

Barras,  who  had  been  appointed  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  armed  forces  by  the  Convention  at  the 
time  when,  threatened  by  the  riot  this  Assembly 
seemed  about  to  perish,  marched  at  noon  upon  the 
H6tel-de-Ville,  then  occupied  by  the  insurgents ;  he 
outlawed  them,  and  arrested  Robespierre  and  his 
accomplices.  Hardly  had  he  been  overthrown  than 
Bardre  —  the  Anacreon  of  the  guillotine,  as  he  was 
called  —  inveighed  against  him  in  the  Convention, 
then  in  permanent  session.  "He  had  the  audacity," 
says  Barras,  in  his  still  unpublished  Memoirs,  "to 
accuse  the  tyrant  of  wishing  to  re-establish  the 
son  of  Louis  XVI.  on  the  throne,  and  of  planning 
on  his  own  behalf  to  marry  Mademoiselle,  the 
daughter  of  that  monarch.  ..."  In  consequence 
of  Bar£re's  statement,  and  in  accordance  with 
that  system  of  lies  intended  for  the  people  which 
the  most  widely  diverse  governments  seem  to  pass 
from  one  to  another  with  the  same  end  of  decep- 
tion in  view,  the  committee  spread  a  rumor  that 
the  captives  of  the  Temple,  the  unhappy  children  of 
Louis  XVI.,  had  escaped.  The  two  committees,  the 
majority  of  whom  were  still  Jacobins,  had  dissem- 
inated this  false  report  in  order  to  cast  a  suspicion 
of  royalism  on  the  Thermidorian  party. 

Barras  wished  to  see  with  his  own  eyes  how  things 


SOLITUDE  85 


really  stood.  At  six  in  the  morning  of  the  10th 
Thermidor  he  went  to  the  Temple,  accompanied  by 
several  members  of  the  committees  and  deputies 
from  the  Convention,  in  full  uniform.  He  wished 
to  show  himself,  at  the  head  of  his  cortege,  at  the 
principal  military  stations  of  Paris  and  cause  the 
troops  to  renew  their  oath  to  be  faithful  to  the  Con- 
vention. He  came  to  a  halt  at  the  Temple  station, 
where  he  doubled  the  guard,  commanded  the  munic- 
ipal officers  to  remain  permanently  and  exercise  the 
strictest  vigilance,  and  then  went  up  into  the  great 
tower,  where  he  successively  saw  Louis  XVII.  and 
his  sister. 

This  is  what  Marie  The'rctee  wrote  in  her  journal 
concerning  this  visit:  "The  10th  Thermidor,  at  six 
in  the  morning,  I  heard  a  frightful  noise  at  the 
Temple;  the  guard  called  to  arms,  the  drum  beat, 
and  the  doors  opened  and  closed.  All  this  racket 
was  occasioned  by  a  visit  from  certain  members  of 
the  National  Assembly,  who  came  to  assure  them- 
selves that  all  was  quiet.  I  heard  the  bolts  of  my 
brother's  chamber  drawn.  I  sprang  out  of  bed  and 
was  dressed  when  the  members  of  the  Convention 
reached  my  room.  Barras  was  among  them;  they 
were  in  full  dress,  which  astonished  me,  because  I 
was  not  accustomed  to  see  them  so,  and  was  always 
fearing  something  or  other.  Barras  talked  to  me, 
calling  me  by  my  name ;  he  was  surprised  to  find  me 
up,  and  said  several  things  to  which  I  made  no  an- 
swer. They  departed,  and  I  heard  them  haranguing 


86  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

the  guards  under  the  windows  and  telling  them  to  be 
faithful  to  the  National  Convention.  There  were 
many  shouts  of:  'Long  live  the  Republic!  Long 
live  the  Convention! '  The  guard  was  doubled." 

Some  hours  after  the  visit  of  Barras  to  the  Temple, 
Robespierre  and  his  principal  accomplices  were  con- 
ducted to  the  scaffold,  amid  cries  of  joy  and  curses 
from  the  people.  The  next  day,  llth  Thermidor, 
the  committees  of  Public  Safety  and  General  Secu- 
rity ratified  the  choice  which  had  made  Barras  guar- 
dian of  the  children  of  Louis  XVI.  They  decreed 
that  "  Citizen  Laurent,  member  of  the  Revolutionary 
Committee  of  the  Temple,  should  be  put  provision- 
ally in  charge  of  the  tyrant's  children."  The  two 
committees  united  in  enjoining  "the  most  exact 
surveillance." 

Laurent  was  installed  on  the  day  of  his  appoint- 
ment, llth  Thermidor,  toward  half-past  nine  in  the 
evening,  by  several  members  of  the  municipality. 
His  first  care  was  to  visit  the  prison  of  Marie 
The're'se.  "I  was  in  bed,"  she  says,  "without  any 
light,  and  not  asleep,  so  anxious  was  I  about  what 
was  going  on;  some  one  knocked  on  my  door  to 
show  me  to  Laurent,  commissioner  of  the  Conven- 
tion, who  had  been  given  charge  of  my  brother  and 
me.  I  rose,  and  these  gentlemen  made  a  thorough 
search,  showing  Laurent  everything,  and  then  going 
away. 

"  The  next  day  at  ten  o'clock,  Laurent  entered  my 
room,  and  asked  me  politely  whether  I  needed  any- 


SOLITUDE  87 


thing.  He  came  three  times  a  day,  always  behaved 
with  civility,  and  did  not  say  'thou'  to  me.  He  never 
searched  the  bureaus  and  commodes.  I  very  soon 
asked  him  for  what  interested  me  so  keenly,  news 
of  my  parents,  of  whose  death  I  was  ignorant,  and 
also  to  be  re-united  to  my  mother.  He  answered  with 
a  very  sad  expression  that  that  was  not  his  affair. 

"  The  next  day  some  men  in  scarfs  came,  to  whom 
I  put  the  same  questions.  They  also  answered  that 
it  was  not  their  affair,  and  that  they  could  not 
understand  why  I  did  not  want  to  remain  here, 
because  it  seemed  to  them  that  I  was  very  well  off. 
'It  is  frightful,'  I  said  to  them,  'to  be  separated 
from  my  mother  for  a  year  without  learning  any 
news  of  her  or  of  my  aunt  either.'  'You  are  not 
ill? '  -  —  'No,  sir;  but  heart  sickness  is  the  most  cruel 
of  all.'  'I  tell  you  we  can  do  nothing  about  it;  I 
advise  you  to  be  patient,  and  to  hope  in  the  justice 
and  goodness  of  the  French  people. '  I  said  nothing 
more." 

Meanwhile  a  certain  change  for  the  better  took 
place  in  the  attitude  of  the  guardians  of  the  Prin- 
cess. In  speaking  of  Laurent,  she  says:  "I  have 
nothing  but  praise  for  his  manners  during  all  the 
time  he  was  in  service.  He  often  asked  if  I  needed 
anything;  he  begged  me  to  tell  him  what  I  would 
like,  and  to  ring  whenever  I  required  something. 
He  gave  back  my  tinder-box  and  candle. 

"At  the  end  of  October  (1794),  at  one  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  I  was  asleep  when  some  one  knocked 


88  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

at  my  door;  I  arose  in  haste  and  opened  it  trem- 
bling with  fear.  I  saw  two  members  of  the  committee 
with  Laurent;  they  looked  at  me  and  went  away 
without  saying  anything. 

"  The  winter  passed  quietly  enough.  I  was  satis- 
fied with  the  civility  of  my  guardians ;  they  wished  to 
make  my  fire  and  gave  me  all  the  wood  I  wanted, 
which  pleased  me.  They  also  brought  the  books  I 
asked  for;  Laurent  had  already  procured  me  some. 
My  greatest  grief  was  that  I  could  obtain  no  news  of 
my  mother  and  my  aunt;  I  dared  not  ask  for  any 
concerning  my  uncles  and  my  great-aunts,  but  I 
thought  of  them  incessantly." 

Notwithstanding  the  comparative  amelioration  in 
the  rigors  of  her  captivity,  Marie  The're'se  continued 
to  see  nobody  except  her  guardians  at  the  hours 
when  they  brought  her  meals,  and  from  time  to  time 
the  commissioners  of  the  Convention,  who  came  to 
make  sure  that  she  was  still  a  prisoner.  The  Duch- 
ess of  Tourzel  has  written  in  her  Memoirs :  "  I  asked 
Madame  one  day  if  she  had  never  been  put  to  incon- 
venience during  the  time  of  her  profound  solitude. 
'My  person  occupied  me  so  little,'  she  replied,  'that 
I  did  not  pay  it  much  attention. '  It  was  then  that 
she  spoke  of  the  fainting-fit  which  I  mentioned 
above,  adding  such  affecting  remarks  on  the  slight 
esteem  she  had  for  life  that  no  one  could  listen  to 
her  without  profound  emotion.  I  cannot  recall 
these  details  unmoved ;  but  I  should  reproach  myself 
if  I  did  not  make  known  the  courage  and  generosity 


SOLITUDE  89 

of  this  young  Princess.  Far  from  complaining  of  all 
she  had  had  to  suffer  in  that  horrible  tower  which 
reminded  her  of  so  many  woes,  she  never  voluntarily 
spoke  of  it,  and  her  memory  could  never  efface  from 
her  heart  the  love  of  a  country  she  always  held  so 
dear."  Her  parents  had  taught  her  to  forgive  inju- 
ries. She  was  as  good  a  Frenchwoman  as  she  was  a 
Christian,  and  her  patriotism  alone  was  equal  to  her 
religion. 


THE  LAST  DAYS   OF   LOUIS  XVII 

WE  have  just  narrated  what  took  place  on  the 
third  floor  of  the  great  tower  of  the  Temple 
after  Marie  Antoinette  departed  to  the  Conciergerie. 
Let  us  now  examine  what  occurred  on  the  second 
floor  of  the  same  tower.  Dante's  infernal  regions 
present  no  more  horrible  spectacle  than  that  of  the 
tortures  to  which  the  son  of  Louis  XVI.  was  sub- 
jected. His  dungeon  was  not  an  ordinary  prison. 
It  was  a  sort  of  foul  and  repulsive  kennel,  a  place  of 
abomination  and  desolation,  a  sepulchre  full  of 
terrors,  wherein  the  poor  little  captive  united  to  the 
consciousness  of  life  the  agonies  of  a  never-ceasing 
death.  The  poisonous  atmosphere  he  breathed 
deprived  him  of  all  appetite  and  corrupted  the  mis- 
erable food  they  brought  him.  His  chamber  was  no 
better  than  a  pestilential  sewer,  infested  by  rats  and 
mice.  Great  black  spiders  crawled  over  his  bed  at 
night.  To  rid  himself  of  their  hideous  contact  he 
would  rise  and  sit  on  his  chair,  passing  the  night 
with  his  elbows  resting  on  the  table.  At  other 
times  he  would  fill  his  hat  with  the  scraps  of  meat 
and  crusts  of  bread  left  from  his  meals  and  place 
00 


THE  LAST  DAYS  OF  LOUIS  XVII  91 

it  in  the  middle  of  the  floor.  There  the  rats  and 
mice  would  gather  around  it  and  leave  him  to  get  a 
few  minutes  of  repose. 

It  is  said  in  the  work  of  Simien-Despre'aux,  who 
was  informed  by  Gagnie*,  chief  cook  at  the  Temple, 
that  "the  young  Prince  led  an  apathetic  existence 
amid  repulsive  uncleanliness.  .  .  .  His  arms,  thighs, 
and  legs  grew  singularly  long  at  the  expense  of  his 
breast  and  body ;  three  tumors,  to  which  no  one  con- 
descended to  pay  the  least  attention,  developed  them- 
selves on  his  knee,  his  wrist,  and  his  arm.  An  acrid 
and  violent  humor  gathered  in  them  and  corroded 
the  flesh;  a  sort  of  eruption  ate  into  his  neck,  and 
his  beautiful  chestnut  hair  seemed  to  take  root,  if 
one  may  say  so,  in  the  cavities  formed  by  the  puru- 
lent humor.  .  .  .  His  whole  neck,  from  its  lower 
extremity  up  to  the  roots  of  the  hair  was  covered 
with  a  persistent  eruption,  made  more  painful  still 
because  the  wretched  child,  carrying  his  fingers 
thither  by  a  natural  impulse,  scratched  it  inces- 
santly, and  made  the  wounds  bleed  with  his  nails, 
which  had  grown  very  long." 

People  supposed  that  M.  de  Beauchesne  had  ex- 
hausted the  subject  of  Louis  XVII. 's  martyrdom  in 
his  eloquent  and  affecting  book.  They  were  mis- 
taken. The  work  published  by  M.  Chantelauze 
under  the  title:  Louis  XVII. ,  Ms  childhood,  im- 
prisonment, and  death  in  the  Temple;  after  unpub- 
lished documents  of  the  National  Archives,  has  given 
many  new  details  of  this  captivity,  the  most  touching 


02  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

and  doleful  made  known  to  us  by  history.  The  cob- 
bler Simon  had  assuredly  been  a  cruel  persecutor  to 
the  son  of  Louis  XVI.,  but  the  unhappy  child  had 
learned  to  long  for  this  tormentor.  Solitary  confine- 
ment was  still  more  terrible  than  the  presence  of  such 
a  monster.  Simon's  wife  may  have  been  a  vixen,  but 
still  she  sometimes  took  pity  on  the  little  prisoner, 
and  even  though  she  ill-used  him,  she  washed  and 
combed  him,  she  made  his  bed  and  swept  his  room. 
But  on  January  19,  1794,  the  odious  guardian, 
obliged  to  choose  between  his  functions  at  the 
Temple  and  his  position  as  member  of  the  Council- 
General,  abandoned  the  first  to  preserve  the  second. 
It  was  then  decided  that  the  cobbler  should  have  no 
successor.  The  Simon  household  disappeared,  and 
after  January  20,  1794,  the  royal  child  underwent 
the  severest  hardships  of  solitary  confinement.  It 
was  considered  that  the  whole  of  the  second  floor  of 
the  great  tower  would  be  much  too  large  a  prison  for 
him.  His  quarters  were  restricted,  therefore,  to 
a  single  room,  that  at  the  back,  which  had  been 
formerly  occupied  by  Cle'ry.  The  door  separating 
this  room  from  the  antechamber  was  cut  in  two, 
breast  high,  furnished  with  bars  and  gratings  and 
iron  plates,  and  secured  with  nails  and  screws.  On 
the  lower  part  of  the  door,  at  the  same  height,  was 
fastened  a  table  with  two  leaves,  above  which  was  a 
wicket  of  iron  cross-bars,  closed  with  a  solid  pad- 
lock. Through  this  wicket  the  child's  coarse  meals 
were  passed,  watery  soups  in  which  a  few  lentils 


THE  LAST  DAYS  OF  LOUIS  XVII  98 

floated,  scraps  of  dry  boiled  beef,  black  bread,  and 
a  jug  of  water,  but  never  any  wine.  On  the  edge 
of  this  table  the  little  prisoner  had  to  place  the 
earthen  vessel  which  he  had  used. 

Never  any  fire  on  the  hearth,  never  any  light  at 
night.  Darkness,  solitude,  and  terror.  Behold  the 
descendant  of  so  many  kings,  the  heir  of  Saint 
Louis,  Henri  IV.,  and  Louis  XIV.,  trembling  in 
every  limb,  and  more  to  be  pitied  than  the  sorriest 
of  beggars.  Behold  in  him  the  type  of  grief,  a  liv- 
ing corpse,  laden  with  the  proof  of  how  far  human 
misery  may  extend.  His  legs,  on  account  of  the 
swelling  of  his  knees,  are  squeezed  as  in  a  vice  by 
pantaloons  too  narrow,  which  he  is  compelled  to 
wear  both  day  and  night,  as  he  does  his  ragged  gray 
jacket.  Poor  child!  His  dull,  his  frightful  soli- 
tude is  interrupted  only  by  the  nightly  rounds  of  the 
commissioners  who  come  to  make  personally  sure  of 
his  presence  in  the  dungeon.  "Are  you  asleep, 
Capet?  Get  up!  Come  here!"  And  the  little 
prisoner  starting  out  of  sleep,  almost  dead  with  fear, 
jumps  out  of  the  foot  of  his  bed,  and  runs  with  bare 
feet  across  the  icy  floor.  "  Here  I  am,  citizen ;  what 
do  you  want  of  me?"  —"To  see  you;  now  go  back 
to  bed,  little  whelp."  These  were  the  only  times 
when  he  saw  human  faces.  Treated  as  if  he  had  the 
plague  or  were  a  leper,  he  did  not  even  see  the  hand 
of  the  person  who  thrust  his  meagre  pittance  through 
the  hole  cut  in  the  door.  He  never  heard  any  sound 
but  the  drawing  of  the  bolts  that  shut  him  in.  His 


94  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

moral  sufferings  were   not   less  atrocious  than  his 
physical  ones. 

In  spite  of  all  that  had  been  done  to  stultify  and 
debase  him,  he  still  retained  sufficient  intelligence 
to  compare  the  present  with  the  past,  to  remember 
all  that  he  had  lost  and  to  be  conscious  of  the  depths 
of  the  abyss  into  which  he  had  been  precipitated. 
Listen  to  the  narrative  of  the  victim's  sister:  "I 
knew  they  had  had  the  cruelty  to  leave  my  poor 
brother  alone.  It  was  an  unheard-of  barbarity,  which 
is  surely  unexampled,  to  abandon,  in  this  way,  an  un- 
fortunate child  of  eight  years,  who  was  already  ill, 
and  keep  him  shut  up  in  his  chamber,  under  lock 
and  bar,  with  nothing  to  aid  him  except  a  wretched 
bell  which  he  never  rang  because  he  was  so  afraid  of 
the  people  he  might  have  summoned,  and  preferred 
to  do  without  rather  than  ask  his  persecutors  for  the 
least  thing.  He  was  in  a  bed  which  had  not  been 
shaken  up  in  six  months,  and  which  he  was  no 
longer  strong  enough  to  make;  fleas  and  other 
insects  covered  it,  and  his  linen  and  person  were 
full  of  them.  His  stockings  and  shirt  had  not  been 
changed  for  more  than  a  year.  His  window,  closed 
with  chains  and  bars,  was  never  opened,  and  no  one 
could  stay  in  his  chamber  on  account  of  the  foul 
odor.  It  is  true  that  my  brother  neglected  himself ; 
he  might  have  taken  a  little  more  care  of  his  person, 
and  at  least  washed  himself,  since  they  gave  him  a 
jug  of  water ;  but  this  unhappy  child  was  dying  with 
fear;  he  never  asked  for  anything,  so  much  had 


THE  LAST  DAYS   OF  LOUIS  XVII  95 


Simon  and  his  other  keepers  made  him  tremble.  He 
did  nothing  all  day  long.  They  never  gave  him  any 
light.  This  condition  was  most  injurious  to  his 
mind  as  well  as  his  body.  It  is  not  surprising  that 
he  fell  into  a  frightful  consumption.  That  he  had  a 
strong  constitution  is  proved  by  the  time  his  health 
remained  good,  and  his  long  struggle  against  so 
many  cruelties." 

While  Madame  Elisabeth  was  still  in  the  tower, 
there  had  been  a  time  when  Marie  The'rdse  thought 
her  brother  had  left  the  prison.  "On  January  19," 
she  says  in  her  journal,  "  we  heard  a  great  noise  in 
my  brother's  apartments,  which  made  us  conjecture 
that  he  was  going  to  leave  the  Temple,  and  we  were 
convinced  of  it  when,  by  looking  through  the  key- 
hole, we  saw  some  parcels  taken  away.  On  the  fol- 
lowing days  we  heard  the  door  open  and  people 
walking  in  the  chamber,  and  we  remained  persuaded 
that  he  had  gone.  We  supposed  that  some  distin- 
guished person  must  have  been  put  down  stairs ;  but 
I  afterwards  knew  that  it  was  Simon  who  departed. 
Being  forced  to  choose  between  a  place  as  municipal 
officer  and  that  of  guardian  to  my  brother,  he  had 
preferred  the  first." 

The  noise  which  had  occasioned  the  error  of  the 
two  captives  was  made  by  the  men  who  were  at 
work  for  two  days  on  Louis  XVII. 's  narrow  dun- 
geon. They  finished  it  January  21,  1794,  the  first 
anniversary  of  Louis  XVI. 's  death. 

From  time  to  time  Marie  Th^rdse  obtained  tidings 


96  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

of  her  brother  through  certain  compassionate  souls, 
the  turnkey  Baron,  and  Caron  the  kitchen  servant. 
But  they  did  not  tell  her  all.  It  would  have  caused 
her  too  much  suffering.  Why  did  they  not  allow 
her  to  go  down  to  the  second  floor,  to  open  the 
door  of  the  room  where  the  poor  child  Avas  groaning, 
and  succor,  console,  care  for,  and  save  him?  She 
would  have  been  his  good  angel,  she  would  have 
rescued  him  from  misery  and  death.  All  that  was 
necessary  to  accomplish  this  work  of  deliverance  and 
salvation  was  for  her  to  descend  a  few  steps,  and  she 
was  forbidden  to  do  so!  What  a  torture  for  this 
sublime  young  girl  who  would  so  willingly  have 
given  her  life  to  save  that  of  her  brother ! 

When  Barras  visited  the  Temple,  July  27  (10 
Thermidor  II.),  he  wished  to  see  the  little  Prince. 
The  iron  door  of  the  dungeon  was  unfastened,  and 
it  turned  upon  its  rusty  hinges  for  the  first  time  in 
more  than  six  months.  The  frightened  child  ex- 
claimed: "I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  my  keepers." 
Barras,  stupefied  by  the  horrible  sight  he  witnessed, 
responded :  "  For  my  part,  I  shall  make  lively  com- 
plaints about  the  filthy  condition  of  this  chamber." 
He  afterwards  questioned  the  young  Prince  very 
gently  about  the  state  of  his  health. 

The  little  prisoner  complained  of  very  severe  pains 
in  his  knees  and  of  not  being  able  to  bend  them. 
Barras  saw  for  himself  that  a  tumor  had  produced 
great  damage  there,  and  that  the  condition  of  the 
child,  who  had  lost  appetite  and  could  not  sleep,  was 


THE  LAST  DAYS   OF  LOUIS  XVII  97 

hopeless.  Crushed  and  broken  down  by  suffering, 
his  body  bent  double  like  that  of  an  old  man,  his 
eyes  dull  and  his  face  pallid,  the  son  of  kings  looked 
like  a  spectre.  Where  now  were  the  days  when, 
under  the  trees  of  Versailles,  the  Tuileries,  or  Saint 
Cloud,  he  seemed  so  graceful  with  his  soft,  deep 
eyes,  his  curling  hair,  his  transparent  complexion, 
brilliant  and  glowing  as  if  lighted  by  an  inward 
flame?  What  had  become  of  that  radiant,  angelic 
child,  beautiful  as  his  mother  or  as  the  day  ?  Job's 
dunghill  was  less  lamentable  than  the  sewer  where 
groaned  this  little  innocent. 

In  spite  of  the  reaction  that  was  beginning,  the 
men  of  Thermidor  were  still  savages.  As  a  rumor 
was  spreading  to  the  effect  that  a  change  for  the 
better  was  to  be  made  in  the  condition  of  the  chil- 
dren of  Louis  XVI.,  the  Committee  of  General 
Security  had  just  declared  in  presence  of  the  Con- 
vention that  it  had  issued  no  instructions  that  could 
be  so  construed.  "The  Committee,"  said  they, 
"have  absolutely  no  thought  of  ameliorating  the 
captivity  of  Capet's  children.  The  Committee  and 
the  Convention  know  how  the  heads  of  kings  are 
made  to  fall ;  but  they  do  not  know  how  their  chil- 
dren are  to  be  brought  up." 

In  spite  of  the  injunctions  of  Barras,  Laurent, 
the  new  guardian  of  Louis  XVII.,  either  through 
negligence  or  fear  of  compromising  himself,  allowed 
a  month  and  four  days  to  elapse  before  cleaning  the 
wretched  child's  room.  September  1,  1794,  with 


98  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

the  assistance  of  several  persons,  and  especially  of 
Gagnie',  the  chief  cook,  he  unclosed  the  iron  door 
and  broke  the  round  wicket.  The  little  prisoner 
trembled  like  a  leaf  on  hearing  the  sound  of  the 
hammers  and  the  grinding  of  the  bolts.  They  found 
him  extended  on  his  miserable  pallet,  pale,  livid, 
with  lack-lustre  eyes,  bent  back,  arms  and  legs  far 
too  long  for  his  age,  his  wrists  and  ankles  swollen 
by  tumors,  and  the  nails  of  his  hands  and  feet  as 
long  as  those  of  a  wild  beast.  On  a  little  table  lay 
his  dinner  which  he  had  not  touched.  Gagnie'  said  to 
him:  "Monsieur  Charles"  —they  no  longer  called 
him  Capet — "why  don't  you  eat?  You  ought  to 
eat."  "No,  my  friend,"  replied  the  child;  "no,  I 
want  to  die."  Caron,  the  cook's  assistant,  cut  his 
hair  which  had  stuck  fast  in  his  sores.  His  nails, 
which  were  as  hard  as  horn,  were  likewise  trimmed. 
They  took  off  his  vermin-covered  clothing  and 
installed  him  in  the  chamber  formerly  occupied  by 
his  father  until  his  own  should  be  thoroughly 
cleansed.  Some  of  the  window-blinds  were  removed, 
so  that  more  light  could  enter,  and  the  sashes  were 
opened  to  admit  air.  Clean  linen  was  substituted 
for  his  half-rotten  sheets.  One  of  the  two  beds  in 
his  sister's  apartment  was  brought  down  stairs  and 
the  little  prisoner  laid  upon  it.  A  surgeon  came 
from  time  to  time  to  wash  and  dress  his  sores. 
When  his  room  had  been  cleaned  the  child  was  put 
back  there,  but  they  left  him  all  alone. 

Marie  The'rtlse  still  had  no  communication  with 


THE  LAST  DAYS   OF  LOUIS   XVII  99 

her  brother.  She  was  destined  never  to  see  him 
again.  It  was  formally  forbidden  that  the  brother 
and  sister  should  take  their  walk  at  the  same  time. 
Not  only  were  they  never  to  be  allowed  to  meet,  but 
their  guardians  were  bidden  to  conceal  from  them 
that  they  were  detained  in  the  same  place.  Louis 
XVII.  never  heard  any  tidings  of  his  sister,  and  if 
Marie  The'rdse  occasionally  obtained  a  few  details 
concerning  him,  it  was  only  through  some  departure 
from  the  strictest  orders.  No  change  in  their  food 
had  yet  been  permitted.  The  decree  of  Septem- 
ber 23,  1793,  which  condemned  them  to  the  same 
wretched  fare  as  was  given  to  thieves  and  assassins, 
had  been  rigorously  observed.  Even  the  half-bottle 
of  wine  to  which  Louis  XVII.  was  entitled  by  this 
decree,  and  which  was  given  to  his  sister,  was  with- 
held from  him.  And  during  all  this  time,  the  mu- 
nicipal officers  and  the  jailers  were  feasting  from 
morning  to  night  at  the  expense  of  the  State. 

Weakened  and  ricketty  as  he  was,  no  longer  more 
than  a  sort  of  phantom,  the  unhappy  child  was  still, 
in  the  eyes  of  all  Europe  and  of  many  Frenchmen, 
His  Most  Christian  Majesty,  the  King  of  France  and 
Navarre.  Even  in  Paris  itself  the  poor  little  pris- 
oner had  numerous  partisans.  This  puny  child 
alarmed  the  terrible  Convention.  At  no  price  would 
they  grant  him  his  liberty.  In  the  session  of  January 
22,  1795,  Cambaceres,  in  the  name  of  the  two  Com- 
mittees, read  a  report  which  concluded  thus:  "An 
enemy  is  much  less  dangerous  when  he  is  in  your 


100  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

power  than  when  he  has  passed  into  the  hands  of 
those  who  sustain  his  cause  or  have  embraced  his 
party.  Let  us  suppose  that  Capet's  heir  should  find 
himself  in  the  midst  of  our  enemies ;  you  would  soon 
find  him  present  at  every  point  where  our  legions 
had  enemies  to  combat.  Even  should  he  cease  to 
exist,  he  would  be  found  again  everywhere,  and  this 
chimera  would  long  serve  to  nourish  the  guilty 
hopes  of  Frenchmen  who  are  traitors  to  their  coun- 
try. .  .  .  There  is  little  danger  in  holding  Capet's 
family  in  captivity;  there  is  much  in  expelling 
them.  The  expulsion  of  tyrants  has  almost  always 
prepared  the  Avay  for  their  return,  and  if  Rome  had 
detained  the  Tarquins,  she  would  not  have  had  to 
combat  them." 

Meanwhile  the  Vende'ans  were  fighting  in  the 
name  of  Louis  XVII.,  and  in  Paris  the  secret  police 
agents  declared  there  was  a  rising  public  sentiment 
in  favor  of  the  young  Prince.  His  name  was  spoken 
in  market-places  and  suburbs.  Everybody  felt  inter- 
ested in  what  was  done  at  the  Temple.  Sometimes 
it  was  said  the  little  prisoner  had  been  abducted, 
nnd  sometimes  that  he  was  soon  to  be  proclaimed 
king.  These  verses  were  posted  up  in  the  National 
Garden :  — 

"  Guilty  nation,  gone  astray, 
And  to  cruel  plagues  a  prey, 
Wouldst  thou  from  thy  bosom  chase 
Famine,  dearth,  and  all  their  race  ? 
Put  the  baker's  journeyman 
In  his  father's  shop  again." 


THE  LAST  DAYS   OF  LOUIS  XVII  101 

A  certain  change  for  the  better  had  been  effected 
in  the  treatment  of  the  son  of  Louis  XVI.  Gomin, 
appointed  Laurent's  assistant,  November  8,  1794, 
and  Lasne,  who  replaced  Laurent,  April  1,  1795, 
showed  him  a  respect  to  which  he  had  long  been 
unaccustomed.  His  cruel  solitude  was  interrupted 
now  and  again.  They  brought  him  cards  and 
chatted  with  him.  They  took  him  up  to  the  plat- 
form of  the  tower  to  breathe  a  little  fresh  air.  But 
all  this  came  too  late.  Crushed  by  anguish,  the 
child  was  irrevocably  doomed.  The  attentions  of 
Gomin  and  Lasne  could  not  possibly  avail.  The 
Duchess  of  Tourzel  writes  in  her  Memoirs :  "  Gomin 
told  me  that  when  the  young  Prince  was  placed  in 
their  hands  his  neglected  condition  not  only  made 
him  painful  to  behold,  but  occasioned  most  disa- 
greeable troubles  to  himself.  He  had  fallen  into  a 
state  of  continual  absorption,  spoke  little,  and  was 
unwilling  either  to  walk  or  to  occupy  himself  with 
anything  whatever.  And  yet  he  had  some  surpris- 
ing flashes  of  genius.  He  liked  to  quit  his  room, 
and  was  pleased  when  they  took  him  into  the  coun- 
cil-chamber and  seated  him  near  the  window.  Poor 
Gomin,  who  in  spite  of  his  good-will  was  unskilled 
in  the  care  of  the  sick,  did  not  at  first  perceive  that 
this  absorption  proceeded  from  a  malady  by  which 
the  poor  little  Prince  had  been  attacked,  and  was 
the  result  of  ill  treatment  and  the  lack  of  air  and 
exercise,  even  more  necessary  to  this  child  than  to 
another;  for  in  speaking  of  the  beauty  of  face  which 


102  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

outlasted  his  life,  he  praises  the  two  rosy  apples  on 
his  cheeks,  which  but  too  plainly  announced  the 
internal  fever  wasting  him.  But  he  was  not  slow 
to  perceive  that  all  the  child's  joints  were  swollen, 
and  he  asked  more  than  once  to  have  a  doctor  exam- 
ine him.  No  attention  was  paid  to  his  entreaties, 
and  Desault,  chief  surgeon  at  the  H6tel-Dieu,  was 
not  sent  there  until  his  aid  had  become  entirely 
useless." 

On  May  6,  1795,  Doctor  Desault,  one  of  the  most 
celebrated  physicians  of  the  day,  arrived  at  the 
Temple,  and  lavished  all  his  cares  on  the  innocent 
victim.  The  young  Prince  showed  his  gratitude  to 
the  good  doctor  by  breaking  the  silence  he  observed 
with  his  jailers  and  the  municipal  commissioners. 
When  these  persons  announced  that  the  visit  must 
end,  the  child,  unwilling  to  ask  them  to  prolong  it, 
held  fast  to  the  tail  of  Desault's  coat.  But  the 
doctor's  death  was  to  precede  that  of  the  young 
invalid.  "Desault,"  says  the  Duchess  of  Tourzel, 
"  experienced  the  keenest  emotion  on  beholding  the 
deplorable  state  to  which  the  august  and  unfortunate 
child  had  been  reduced.  He  had  the  greatest  desire 
for  his  recovery,  and  employed  all  his  skill  to  that 
effect.  His  whole  mind  was  bent  on  it;  he  slept 
neither  day  nor  night,  and  spent  all  his  time  in  seek- 
ing some  means  by  which  it  might  be  accomplished. 
His  imagination  became  so  overheated  that  his  health 
suffered  in  consequence.  He  experienced  great 
physical  disturbance  which  his  fear  of  being  super- 


THE  LAST  DATS   OF  LOUIS  XVII  103 

seded  by  some  one  whose  sentiments  would  be  dif- 
ferent, made  him  undertake  to  quell;  his  humors 
inflamed,  and  he  was  attacked  by  a  dysentery  which 
carried  him  to  the  grave  in  a  few  days."  Desault 
fell  seriously  ill  in  the  night  of  May  29-30,  and 
died  on  June  1.  Strange  rumors  got  into  circula- 
tion concerning  this  sudden  death.  Some  claimed 
that  the  doctor  had  been  poisoned  because  he  refused 
to  poison  the  little  Prince.  Others  tried  to  spread 
the  absurd  report  that  having  obeyed  a  secret  order 
to  administer  slow  poison  to  the  young  invalid,  he 
had  been  poisoned  in  his  turn  so  as  to  efface  the 
traces  of  his  crime. 

Louis  XVII.  finally  reached  the  end  of  his  mis- 
eries. "My  brother's  malady  grew  worse  daily,"- 
writes  Marie  There'se;  "even  his  mind  felt  the 
effects  of  the  severity  used  towards  him,  and  insen- 
sibly weakened.  The  Committee  of  General  Secu- 
rity sent  Doctor  Desault  to  attend  him ;  he  undertook 
his  cure,  although  he  recognized  that  the  malady 
was  very  dangerous.  Desault  died,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by  Dumaugin  and  Surgeon  Pelletan.  They 
entertained  no  hopes  of  his  recovery.  He  was  given 
medicines  which  he  swallowed  with  difficulty. 
Happily,  his  malady  did  not  cause  him  much  suffer- 
ing ;  it  was  a  case  of  prostration  and  decline,  rather 
than  of  acute  pains."  Alas!  this  final  sentence 
testifies  to  an  illusion  on  the  part  of  the  young  Prin- 
cess. The  wretched  child  experienced  the  most 
cruel  tortures  to  the  very  end  of  his  life.  "How 


104  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOUL&ME 

unhappy  I  am  to  see  you  suffer  like  that!"  said 
Gomin  to  him.  "Console  yourself,"  replied  the 
little  martyr;  "I  shall  not  suffer  always."  A  few 
minutes  before  yielding  up  his  soul,  he  turned  his 
head  toward  his  two  guardians,  and  feebly  mur- 
mured his  last  words :  "  Put  me  in  a  place  where  I 
shall  not  suffer  so !  " 

Marie  The're'se  ends  her  journal  in  the  Temple  by 
mentioning  this  death  in  the  following  words :  "  Thus 
died,  June  9,  1795,  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
Louis  XVII.,  aged  ten  years  and  two  months.  The 
commissioners  wept  bitterly,  so  much  had  he  made 
himself  beloved  by  them  for  his  amiable  qualities. 
He  had  possessed  much  intelligence,  but  the  prison 
and  the  horrors  he  had  been  subjected  to  had  greatly 
altered  it;  even  if  he  had  lived,  it  is  to  be  feared 
that  his  mind  would  have  been  affected. 

"  I  do  not  believe  that  he  was  poisoned,  as  people 
said  and  continue  to  say;  that  is  false  according  to 
the  testimony  of  the  physicians  who  opened  the 
body,  and  found  not  the  least  trace  of  poison.  The 
drugs  he  had  been  using  in  his  last  illness  were 
analyzed  and  found  innocuous.  The  only  poison 
which  shortened  his  life  was  uncleanliness  joined  to 
horrible  treatment,  cruelty,  and  the  unexampled 
severity  exercised  towards  him. 

"  Such  has  been  the  life  and  death  of  my  virtuous 
relatives  during  their  sojourn  in  the  Temple  and 
other  prisons. 

"Done  at  the  Temple  tower." 


THE  LAST  DAYS  OF  LOUIS  XVII  105 

The  death  of  the  poor  little  Prince  was  concealed 
from  Marie  The'rese  for  a  considerable  time.  The 
child  was  lying  inanimate  within  a  few  steps  of  her, 
in  the  very  room  beneath  her  own,  and  she  did  not 
know  it;  she  was  as  ignorant  of  this  death  as  she 
still  remained  of  those  of  Marie  Antoinette  and 
Madame  Elisabeth.  When,  several  weeks  later,  she 
learned  that  she  had  lost  her  mother,  her  aunt,  and 
her  brother,  she  remained  inconsolable  because  she 
had  not  been  able  to  nurse  the  innocent  victim  who 
had  suffered  so  much. 

During  all  the  nights  preceding  his  death  the  poor 
child  had  been  left  alone.  His  guardians  were 
permitted  to  see  him  only  in  the  daytime.  He 
breathed  his  last  sigh  in  Lasne's  arms  at  three  in  the 
afternoon.  If  he  had  expired  in  the  night,  he  would 
have  passed  away  in  absolute  solitude.  The  bar- 
barous regulation  which  forbade  his  being  watched 
at  night  was  not  repealed  until  he  had  been  dead 
some  hours.  His  body  was  placed  on  a  stretcher, 
earned  to  the  cemetery  of  Saint  Marguerite,  and 
thrown  into  the  common  grave.  Thus  ended  the 
descendant  and  heir  of  Louis  XIV. 

Even  this  did  not  fill  the  measure  of  calamities 
and  painful  memories  for  the  daughter  of  Louis 
XVI.  She  was  still  to  be  tormented  all  her  life  by 
importunate  claimants  who  called  themselves  Louis 
XVII.,  and  pursued  her  with  incessant  demands. 
She  declared  one  day  that  she  had  received  letters  from 
twenty-eight  different  persons,  each  of  whom  said  he 


106  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANOOULEME 

was  her  brother.  The  history  of  these  pretenders 
does  not  enter  into  the  design  of  this  study.  M. 
Chantelauze,  in  his  conscientious  and  remarkable 
work,  and  M.  Ernest  Bertin,  in  some  excellent 
articles  published  in  the  Dtbats  of  January  17,  27, 
and  31,  1885,  have  annihilated  the  fables  which  can 
no  longer  play  on  public  credulity.  It  was  Regnault 
Warin,  a  writer  completely  forgotten  now,  who 
settled  the  vocation  of  most  of  the  pretended  Louis 
XVII.s  by  a  romance  called  Le  Cimetiere  de  la  Made- 
leine, which  he  brought  out  in  1798.  In  it  he  pre- 
tends that  two  of  Chare tte's  emissaries  had  brought 
a  child  stupefied  by  opium  into  the  Temple,  conceal- 
ing him  inside  a  hobby-horse  presented  to  the  little 
Prince,  and  that  having  substituted  this  child  for 
Louis  XVII.,  the  latter  was  carried  away  in  the 
packing-basket  that  had  contained  the  wooden  horse. 
According  to  the  same  romance,  Louis  XVII.,  after 
having  been  first  called  for  and  then  rejected  by  the 
Vende'an  army,  embarked  for  America,  was  captured 
at  sea,  brought  back  to  France,  and  thrown  into 
prison,  where  he  died.  "  The  romancer  killed  Louis 
XVII.,"  says  M.  Ernest  Bertin;  "the  claimants  did 
not  carry  their  plagiarism  so  far.  The  wooden  horse 
was  what  chiefly  impressed  their  imaginations,  and 
all  of  them  got  into  it  to  make  their  escape  from  the 
Temple." 

The  most  famous  of  these  pretenders  was  Naun- 
dorff,  who  died  in  Holland,  August  10,  1845.  In 
August,  1850,  his  widow  and  orphans  summoned  the 


THE  LAST  DAYS  OF  LOUIS  XVII  107 

Duchess  of  Angouleme  and  the  children  of  the  Duke 
of  Berry  before  the  Seine  tribunal  to  claim  their 
descent  from  Louis  XVI.  They  lost  their  cause  in 
1851,  appealed  it  in  1874,  and  lost  it  again.  Those 
interested  in  this  strange  trial  may  read  the  details 
of  it  in  the  G-azette  des  Tribunaux. 

The  work  of  M.  Chantelauze  confirms  by  definite 
facts  and  probable  arguments  the  conclusions  reached 
by  French  magistrates.  The  historian  has  made 
special  use  of  the  testimonies  collected  by  Count 
Angles,  prefect  of  police,  during  an  inquest  ordered 
by  Louis  XVIII.  at  the  beginning  of  the  second 
Restoration,  whose  special  aim  was  to  seek  out, 
interrogate,  and  recompense  all  persons  who  had 
shown  any  humanity  in  their  dealings  with  the  pris- 
oners of  the  Temple.  M.  Chantelauze  discovered 
the  reports  of  these  interrogatories  in  the  pigeon- 
holes of  the  National  Archives,  and  they  furnished 
him  the  means  whereby  to  destroy  the  legends  of  the 
false  Louis  XVII.  The  testimony  of  Simon's  widow 
and  the  dumbness  of  the  child  who  died  in  the 
Temple,  had  been  relied  on  to  prove  it  possible  that 
the  son  of  Louis  XVI.  might  have  escaped.  Simon's 
widow  had  alleged,  in  1817,  that  Doctor  Desault,  on 
seeing  the  corpse  of  the  pretended  Louis  XVII., 
had  said  he  did  not  recognize  the  body  of  the  young 
Prince.  Now,  this  woman  had  either  forgotten  or 
did  not  know  that  Desault  died  June  1,  1795,  eight 
days  before  Louis  XVII.  The  story  of  the  dumb 
child  was  no  better  founded.  Numerous  persons. 


108  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANQOULEifE 

among  them  Gomin  and  Lasne  the  keepers,  and 
Commissioners  Bellanger  and  Dumont,  declared  they 
had  heard  Louis  XVII.  speak  during  his  last  days. 
Two  of  the  pretended  sons  of  Louis  XVI.,  Riche- 
mont  and  Nauiidorff,  asserted  that  they  had  been 
rescued  by  the  Count  of  Frotte*.  Richemont  said 
his  rescue  was  effected  in  June,  1794.  Now,  in  a 
letter  addressed  to  a  Mrs.  Atkym,  in  March,  1795, 
M.  de  Frott£  speaks  regretfully  of  the  impossibility 
of  such  a  deliverance.  Naundorff  affirmed  that  he 
had  been  saluted  as  king  in  the  midst  of  Charette's 
soldiers.  Now,  in  1796,  Charette  in  an  official  proc- 
lamation accused  the  republicans  of  having  caused 
Louis  XVII.  to  perish  in  prison. 

Yes,  the  true  Louis  XVII.,  as  we  believe,  is  the 
unhappy  child  who  died  in  the  Temple,  June  9, 
1795.  But  is  not  the  very  fact  of  the  doubts  that 
have  been  entertained  about  his  death  and  the 
mystery  that  surrounds  his  remains  in  the  common 
grave  a  striking  one  ?  How  could  the  son  of  Bour- 
bons and  of  Hapsburgs,  the  heir  of  Saint  Louis, 
Henri  IV.,  and  Louis  XIV.,  the  child  whose  cradle 
had  been  encircled  by  so  many  adulators,  the  Dau- 
phin of  ideal  beauty  and  rare  intelligence,  who  was 
never  shown  to  the  crowd  without  exciting  general 
admiration  and  enthusiasm,  disappear  thus  into  si- 
lence and  profound  darkness!  Who  are  they  who 
identify  the  descendant  of  so  many  kings  ?  Are  they 
high  and  mighty  lords,  or  personages  entrusted  with 
great  court  appointments  ?  No ;  they  are  poor  peo- 


THE  LAST  DATS   OF  LOUIS  XVII  109 

pie,  obscure  wardens,  men  of  the  lower  classes. 
Compare  the  death  of  Louis  XVII.  with  his  birth. 
How  many  things  had  changed  in  ten  years!  what 
more  striking  example  than  this  of  worldly  vicissi- 
tudes ! 


VI 


THE  MITIGATION   OF   CAPTIVITY 

news  of  Louis  XVII.  's  death  caused  a  pro- 
found  impression.  Worn  out  by  its  own  fury, 
even  the.  Convention  felt  its  anger  lessen  and  its 
hatred  weaken.  June  18,  1795,  a  deputation  from 
the  city  of  Orleans  came  to  its  bar  to  demand  that 
the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  should  be  set  at  liberty, 
in  a  petition  which  contained  these  words :  "  Citizen 
representatives,  while  you  have  broken  the  chains  of 
so  many  victims  of  a  suspicious  and  cruel  policy,  a 
young  unfortunate  condemned  to  weep,  deprived  of 
all  consolation,  all  support,  reduced  to  lament  for 
all  she  held  most  dear,  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI., 
still  languishes  in  the  depths  of  a  horrible  prison. 
So  young  and  yet  an  orphan,  so  young  and  yet  over- 
whelmed by.  so  much  bitterness  and  so  many  griefs, 
how  painfully  she  has  expiated  the  misfortune  of  her 
august  birth !  Alas !  who  would  not  take  pity  on  so 
many  woes,  so  much  affliction,  on  such  innocence 
and  youth?" 

The  petition  terminated  thus :  "  Come,  let  us  all 
surround  this  enclosure;  form  a  pious  cortege,  ye 
Frenchmen   susceptible   to   pity,  and  ye  who  h 
110 


THE  MITIGATION   OF  CAPTIVITY  111 

received  benefits  from  this  unhappy  family;  let  us 
mingle  our  tears,  lift  our  supplicating  hands  and 
demand  liberty  for  this  young  innocent,  and  our 
voices  will  be  heard;  you  Avill  surely  grant  it, 
citizen  representatives,  and  Europe  will  applaud 
that  resolution,  and  this  day  will  be  for  us,  and  for 
all  France,  a  day  of  joy  and  gladness." 

A  few  weeks  earlier  the  authors  of  such  a  petition 
would  have  been  condemned  to  death,  and  now  they 
were  allowed  to  express  their  wishes  at  the  bar  of 
the  Convention.  An  undeniable  reaction  in  people's 
minds  had  set  in.  From  this  period  the  severity  of 
Marie  The'rdse's  captivity  was  notably  relaxed.  We 
find  the  details  of  these  ameliorations  in  Fra^ois 
Hue's  book:  Les  Dernieres  Annies  de  Louis  XVI.  ; 
in  the  Duchess  of  Tourzel's  Memoirs;  and  in  two 
masterly  works,  M.  de  Beauchesne's  Louis  XVII. , 
and  the  Vie  de  Marie  ThSrese  de  France  by  M. 
Nettement. 

The  solitude  of  the  Temple  orphan  came  to  an 
end.  A  decree  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety, 
dated  June  13,  1795,  decided  "  that  a  woman  should 
be  placed  with  the  daughter  of  Louis  Capet  to  serve 
as  her  companion*"  and  the  Committee,  making  its 
choice  between  "  three  women  commendable  for  their 
moral  and  republican  virtues,"  selected  "Citizeness 
Madeleine  Elisabeth  Rende  Hilaire  La  Rochette,  wife 
of  Citizen  Bocquet  de  Chantereine,  living  in  Paris 
at  No.  24  rue  des  Rosiers,  section  of  the  Rights  of 
Man."  This  woman  was  about  thirty  years  of  age. 


112  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

In  the  references  with  which  she  was  furnished,  it 
is  said :  "  Her  manners  are  gentle  and  good,  and  her 
appearance  modest.  Although  she  has  lived  a  long 
time  in  the  country,  she  is  not  out  of  place  in  the 
city.  Her  associates,  without  being  very  brilliant, 
have  always  been  very  select.  She  speaks  French 
well,  and  writes  it  easily  and  correctly.  She  knows 
Italian  also,  and  a  little  English.  The  study  of 
languages,  history,  geography,  music,  and  drawing, 
and  the  useful  and  amusing  labors  proper  to  her  sex 
have  been  the  occupation  of  her  life.  Her  commune, 
which  she  never  left  until  within  a  few  months,  is 
that  of  Gouilly,  near  Meaux.  She  was  notable  there 
for  her  popularity,  and  her  patriotism  has  never  been 
suspected." 

Marie  The're'se  heartily  welcomed  Madame  de 
Chantereine.  At  last  she  met  a  woman  who  would 
tell  her  the  truth  concerning  those  she  held  so  dear. 
The  following  dialogue  took  place  between  the 
young  Princess  and  her  new  companion :  "  Where  is 
my  mother?"  —"Madame  has  no  longer  a  mother." 
"And  my  brother ?"  — " And  no  brother."  "And 
my  aunt?"  — "And  no  aunt."  "What!  Elisabeth 
too?  But  of  what  could  they  accuse  her?" 

July  28,  1795,  Madame  de  Chantereine  wrote  to 
the  Committee  of  Public  Safety:  "Citizen  repre- 
sentatives, I  have  deferred  writing  you  until  now, 
in  order  to  gain  time  and  means  to  give  you  correct 
ideas  of  my  conduct  toward  the  daughter  of  Louis 
Capet,  with  whom  the  Committee  has  placed  me. 


THE  MITIGATION  OF  CAPTIVITY  113 

From  the  first  moments  of  my  arrival  I  flattered 
myself  that  my  attentions  would  be  successful; 
to-day  I  dare  assert  that  they  have  surpassed  my 
hopes;  I  owe  this  to  the  excellent  sentiments  of 
my  companion.  I  can  but  praise  her,  although  I  aid 
her  but  little.  Her  estimable  virtues  are  even  pre- 
cocious. Her  amiable  qualities  and  her  talents  need 
only  to  be  developed  and  exercised.  She  unites 
firmness  and  energy  of  soul  to  a  touching  sensibility 
of  heart." 

The  amelioration  in  the  young  prisoner's  condition 
coincided  with  Madame  de  Chantereine's  arrival  at 
the  Temple.  A  decree  of  June  20,  1795,  permitted 
some  clothes  to  be  given  to  the  daughter  of  Louis 
XVI.  At  last  she  could  discard  her  puce-colored 
silk  frock  which  was  all  in  tatters,  and  which  she 
had  constantly  been  mending  for  more  than  a  year. 
"Her  dress  was  now  very  suitable,"  says  Gomin  the 
keeper.  "  In  the  morning,  while  in  her  chamber,  she 
wore  a  white  dimity  gown;  in  the  daytime,  one  of 
nankeen;  on  Sundays  she  wore  cambric,  and  on  all 
solemn  holidays  she  put  on  a  green  silk  robe.  Her 
beautiful  hair,  so  abundant  that  the  fashionable 
women  of  the  period  declared  she  wore  a  wig,  hung 
down  as  of  old  in  a  pleasing  negligence,  confined 
sometimes  by  a  ribbon  and  sometimes  by  a  fichu 
fastened  at  her  forehead." 

The  young  Princess  was  provided  with  paper, 
pencils,  India  ink,  brushes,  Velly's  History  of 
France,  Fontenelle's  The  Worlds,  the  works  of 


114  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANOOULEME 

Racine  and  Boileau,  and  the  letters  of  Madame  de 
SeVigne*  and  Madame  de  Maintenon.  Her  keepers 
were  permitted  to  let  her  go  down  into  the  Temple 
garden.  A  little  spaniel  which  Laurent  had  given 
her  followed  her.  The  young  captive  could  then 
be  seen  from  the  upper  windows  of  the  neighboring 
houses. 

Quite  close  to  the  tower  and  the  garden  there  was 
a  large  oval-shaped  house,  known  as  the  Rotunda, 
which  was  within  the  Temple  precincts.  The  loyal 
Frangois  Hue  made  haste  to  hire  a  room  in  it,  so  as 
to  be  able  to  look  at  the  Princess  when  she  walked 
in  the  garden.  He  says :  "  I  could  see  Madame  from 
my  windows,  and  I  could  be  seen  there ;  she  could 
even  hear  a  song  sung  in  my  room  which  announced 
that  her  prison  doors  were  soon  to  open :  — 

'"Be  calm,  unhappy  one, 
These  doors  will  open  soon  ; 
Soon  from  thy  chains  set  free, 
'Neath  radiant  skies  thou'lt  be. 
Yet  when  from  this  abode 
Of  grief  thou  tak'st  thy  road, 
Remember  that  e'en  there, 
True  hearts  made  thee  their  care.' 

"  The  author  of  this  ballad  was  M.  Lepitre,  a 
municipal  officer.  I  also  brought  Mademoiselle  de 
Bravannes  there  so  that  her  music  might  afford  some 
diversion  to  this  angel  of  sweetness  and  virtue. 
Besides  a  composition  of  her  own  called  the  Com- 
plaint of  the  Young  Prisoner,  of  which  both  words 


THE  MITIGATION   OF  CAPTIVITY  115 

and  music  were  produced  for  the  occasion,  she  sang 
various  other  pieces.  People  sang  also  in"  the  win- 
dows of  the  houses  on  the  rue  de  la  Corderie,  which 
ran  along  the  Temple  enclosure  on  the  tower  side. 
In  spite  of  their  sympathy  for  the  Princess,  the  two 
keepers,  Gomin  and  Lasne,  felt  it  their  duty  to  ap- 
prise the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  of  this  har- 
monious conspiracy.  They  wrote  as  follows,  August 
11,  1795:  "Citizen  representatives,  we  have  noticed 
to-day  that  a  ballad  has  been  sung  from  the  win- 
dows in  the  rue  de  la  Corderie,  which  look  into  the 
garden.  As  it  seemed  to  us  that  this  romance  was 
sung  when  the  young  prisoner  was  seen,  we  walked 
in  a  different  direction.  Health  and  fraternity." 

August  15,  1795,  the  name-day  of  Marie  The're'se, 
the  singing  began  again  at  the  window  of  Francois 
Hue's  room  in  the  Rotunda.  The  Princess  was 
pleased  with  this  attention,  and  walked  longer  than 
usual  in  the  garden.  Two  days  later,  Gomin  was 
summoned  before  the  Committee  of  Public  Security. 
"  So  they  are  giving  concerts,"  some  one  said  to  him. 
"Citizens,"  he  replied,  "it  is  an  actress  who  is 
rehearsing  her  parts."  The  matter  was  dropped  for 
the  time  being.  But  the  government  indirectly 
warned  FranQois  Hue  that  the  homage  paid  to  mis- 
fortune would  be  respected  only  if  things  went  no 
farther.  Thereupon  the  singing  ceased,  and  did  not 
begin  again  until  several  weeks  later.  On  August 
25,  in  honor  of  the  feast  of  Saint  Louis,  Marie 
The>c!se  hoped  to  hear  again  the  song  which  had 


116  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

moved  her  so  much  on  Assumption  Day.  In  this 
expectation  she  went  down  to  the  garden,  but  she 
heard  no  music,  and  was  saddened  and  made  uneasy 
by  the  silence. 

September  3,  1795,  the  third  anniversary  of  the 
massacres,  those  horrible  preludes  to  still  greater 
crimes,  the  young  captive  was  visited  at  the  Temple 
by  two  women  for  whom  she  entertained  great  affec- 
tion, but  the  sight  of  whom  recalled  most  painful 
memories.  These  were  the  Marchioness  of  Tourzel, 
who  had  been  governess  to  the  royal  children,  and 
was  given  the  rank  of  Duchess  by  Louis  XVIII.,  in 
1816,  and  her  daughter  Pauline,  who  had  been  the 
childish  companion  of  the  Princess. 

The  Marchioness  of  Tourzel,  the  daughter  of  the 
Duke  of  Cray-Havre",  and  a  Montmorency-Luxem- 
bourg,  was  at  this  period  forty-six  years  old.  She 
was  a  model  of  piety,  devotion,  and  courage.  On 
the  day  after  the  taking  of  the  Bastille,  she  suc- 
ceeded, as  governess  to  the  children  of  France,  the 
Duchess  of  Polignac,  who  then  emigrated.  Her 
susceptibility  to  the  afflictions  of  the  royal  family, 
and  the  sight  of  the  abandonment  in  which  they 
were  left  by  the  departure  of  so  many  of  those  who 
had  surrounded  them,  induced  Madame  de  Tourzel 
to  accept  this  perilous  position.  As  her  daughter 
has  written  in  her  Souvenirs  de  quarante  ans,  "she 
resigned  herself  to  the  sacrifice  demanded  of  her. 
At  that  time  it  was  a  sacrifice  and  a  very  great  one ; 
many  of  the  woes  hidden  by  the  future  might  already 


THE  MITIGATION  OF  CAPTIVITY  117 

be  foreseen."  Marie  Antoinette  said  to  the  new 
governess :  "  Madame,  I  have  confided  our  children 
to  friendship;  I  confide  them  now  to  virtue."  Ma- 
dame de  Tourzel  witnessed  the  scenes  of  October  5-6, 
1789,  the  whole  Varennes  journey,  the  tragedies  of 
June  20  and  August  10,  1792,  and  all  the  agonies 
of  the  death-struggle  of  royalty.  She  followed  the 
royal  family  into  the  box  of  the  Logographe  and  the 
convent  of  the  Feuillante.  It  was  in  the  latter  that 
the  Queen,  before  whom  some  one  had  just  named 
the  Temple,  said  to  her  in  an  undertone :  "  You  will 
see  that  they  will  put  me  into  that  tower,  and  make 
it  a  real  prison  for  us.  I  have  always  had  such  a 
horror  of  that  tower  that  I  have  begged  the  Count  of 
Artois  a  thousand  times  to  have  it  torn  down,  and 
it  was  surely  a  presentiment  of  all  we  are  to  suffer 
there."  And  as  the  governess  of  the  royal  children 
sought  to  banish  such  an  idea  from  the  hapless 
mother's  mind,  Marie  Antoinette  replied:  "You 
will  see  whether  I  am  mistaken ! "  Alas !  she  was 
not. 

Madame  de  Tourzel  had  entered  the  Temple  with 
the  royal  family,  August  13,  1792.  But,  to  her 
great  despair,  she  was  torn  away  from  there  during 
the  night  of  August  19-20,  for  she  longed  for  cap- 
tivity as  others  long  for  liberty.  It  was  only  as  by 
miracle  that  she  escaped  the  blade  of  the  Septem- 
brists.  During  the  examination  to  which  she  was 
subjected,  she  was  reproached  for  having  accom- 
panied the  Dauphin,  her  pupil,  to  Varennes.  She 


118  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

was  courageous  enough  to  reply:  "I  had  taken  an 
oath  never  to  leave  him ;  I  could  not  separate  from 
him.  Moreover,  I  was  too  much  attached  to  him 
not  to  endeavor  to  preserve  his  life,  even  at  the  cost 
of  my  own."  At  the  Force  prison,  a  man,  observing 
a  ring  on  her  finger,  asked  her  to  read  aloud  the 
motto  on  it.  She  complied:  " Domine  salvum  fac 
Regem  Delphinum  et  Sororem  !  Lord,  save  the  King, 
the  Dauphin,  and  his  sister!  "  The  crowd  appeared 
angry.  Some  one  cried  out:  "Throw  the  ring  on 
the  ground!"  "Impossible!"  returned  the  govern- 
ess of  the  children  of  France.  "All  I  can  do,  if 
you  dislike  to  see  it,  is  to  put  it  in  my  pocket.  I 
am  tenderly  attached  to  Mgr.  the  Dauphin  and  to 
Madame.  For  several  years  the  former  has  been 
under  my  especial  care,  and  I  love  him  as  my  own 
child;  I  cannot  deny  the  sentiments  of  my  heart, 
and  I  am  sure  you  would  despise  me  if  I  were  to  do 
what  you  propose." 

Madame  de  Tourzel  and  her  daughter  Pauline 
were  again  incarcerated  in  March,  1794,  and  did  not 
leave  their  prison  until  the  end  of  October  of  the 
same  year,  three  months  after  the  death  of  Robes- 
pierre. She  hardly  says  a  word  concerning  this  last 
captivity  in  her  Memoirs.  It  is  only  the  afflictions 
of  the  royal  family  that  concern  her.  "  We  had  the 
grief  of  weeping  for  Madame  Elisabeth,  that  angel 
of  courage  and  virtue.  She  was  Madame 's  support, 
aid,  and  consolation.  We  experienced  the  keenest 
anxiety  for  the  young  Princess.  We  imagined  that 


THE  MITIGATION    OF  CAPTIVITY  119 

sensitive  heart,  all  alone  in  the  horrible  tower,  left  to 
herself,  and  without  consolation  in  the  midst  of  the 
greatest  griefs  the  heart  can  feel.  Our  own  hearts 
were  torn  with  anguish  at  the  thought  of  her  situa- 
tion and  that  of  our  dear  little  Prince,  both  treated 
with  unexampled  barbarity,  and  deprived  even  of  the 
comfort  of  weeping  together  over  the  miseries  that 
overwhelmed  them.  We  never  even  thought  of 
complaining  of  our  own  lot,  for  we  were  too  much 
occupied  with  that  of  the  young  King  and  Madame." 

On  the  3d  of  September,  1795,  Madame  de  Tour- 
zel,  after  many  requests,  at  last  obtained  from  the 
Committee  of  Public  Safety  an  authorization  to 
enter  the  Temple  with  her  daughter  and  pay  a  visit 
to  Madame  Royale.  "I  asked  Gauthier,"  she  writes 
in  her  Memoirs,  "if  Madame  had  been  made  ac- 
quainted with  the  losses  she  had  sustained.  He 
said  she  knew  nothing  about  them,  and  during  the 
whole  way  from  the  Committee,  which  sat  in  the 
Hotel  de  Brienne,  to  the  Temple,  we  were  dreading 
our  probable  task  of  apprising  her  that  she  had  lost 
all  she  held  most  dear  in  the  world. 

"  On  arriving  at  the  Temple,  I  presented  my  per- 
mission to  Madame's  two  keepers,  and  asked  for  a 
private  interview  with  Madame  de  Chantereine. 
She  told  me  that  Madame  knew  the  extent  of  her 
misfortunes  and  that  we  might  enter.  I  begged  her 
to  inform  Madame  that  we  were  at  the  door.  I 
dreaded  the  effect  that  might  be  produced  on  the 
Princess  by  the  sight  of  two  persons  who,  at  her 


120  THE   DUCHESS   OF  ANGOUL&11E 


entrance  into  the  Temple,  accompanied  thof^e  who 
were  dearest  to  her,  and  whose  death  she  was  forced 
to  lament.  Happily,  the  emotion  she  experienced 
had  no  injurious  results.  She  advanced  to  meet  us, 
embraced  us  tenderly,  and  led  us  to  her  chamber, 
where  we  mingled  our  tears  over  the  objects  of  our 
regrets." 

It  is  easy  to  understand  that  the  interview 
between  the  young  Princess  and  her  former  govern- 
ess must  have  "been  pathetic.  What  dismal  things 
they  had  to  tell  each  other!  If  the  daughter  of 
Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette,  the  niece  of 
Madame  Elisabeth,  and  the  sister  of  Louis  XVII., 
could  recount  the  dramas  of  the  Temple  to  Madame 
de  Tourzel,  the  latter  could  relate  those  of  the  Force 
prison  ;  she  could  speak  of  the  Princess  of  Lamballe, 
whose  companion  in  captivity  she  had  been  up  to 
the  hour  of  her  massacre.  The  governess  of  the 
children  of  France  had  suffered  as  much  as  the 
royal  family.  Of  how  many  victims  was  she  not 
about  to  retrace  the  tragic  end  !  What  fatal  tidings 
had  she  not  to  give  the  youthful  captive!  Oh! 
what  a  glance  into  the  past!  What  sinister  details! 
What  oceans  of  tears  !  Can  one  imagine  more  pain- 
ful confidences,  a  more  heartrending  dialogue  ?  The 
very  surroundings,  that  fateful,  horrible  tower  itself, 
lent  additional  sadness  to  the  words  exchanged. 
The  mere  sight  of  Madame  de  Tourzel  reminded  the 
prisoner  of  all  the  catastrophes  of  terrible  years  :  of 
the  October  Days,  the  Varennes  journey,  of  June  20 


THE  MITIGATION  OF  CAPTIVITY  121 

and  August  10,  of  the  assassination  of  the  Swiss, 
the  arrival  at  the  Temple,  and  the  September  mas- 
sacres. 

Madame  de  Tourzel,  on  her  part,  experienced  sen- 
timents of  admiration,  veneration,  and  tenderness, 
on  beholding  the  orphan  of  the  Temple.  She  would 
have  liked  to  kneel  at  the  feet  of  the  heroic  and 
angelic  Princess,  whose  brow  seemed  to  her  sur- 
rounded by  an  aureole.  She  says:  "We  had  left 
Madame  feeble  and  delicate,  and  on  seeing  her  again 
at  the  end  of  three  years  of  unexampled  woes,  we 
were  greatly  astonished  to  find  her  beautiful,  tall, 
and  strong,  and  with  that  air  of  nobility  which  is 
the  chief  characteristic  of  her  appearance.  Pauline 
and  I  were  struck  with  her  likeness  to  the  King, 
the  Queen,  and  even  Madame  Elisabeth.  Heaven, 
which  destined  her  to  be  the  model  of  that  courage 
which,  while  detracting  nothing  from  sensibility, 
nevertheless  renders  the  soul  capable  of  great  actions, 
did  not  permit  her  to  succumb  under  such  a  weight 
of  sorrows. 

"  Madame  spoke  of  them  to  us  with  angelic  sweet- 
ness. We  did  not  perceive  the  faintest  touch  of 
bitterness  against  their  authors.  The  worthy  daugh- 
ter of  her  royal  father,  she  compassionated  the 
French  people,  and  continued  to  love  the  country 
where  she  had  been  so  unhappy.  In  reply  to  my 
remark  that  I  could  not  help  desiring  her  departure 
from  France,  so  as  to  see  her  delivered  from  her 
frightful  captivity,  she  sorrowfully  responded:  'I 


122  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

still  feel  consolation  in  living  in  a  country  that 
possesses  the  remains  of  what  was  dearest  to  me  on 
earth.'  And  in  a  heart-breaking  tone  she  added: 
'I  should  have  been  much  happier  to  share  the  fate 
of  my  beloved  relatives  than  to  be  condemned  to 
bewail  their  loss.'  ' 

Marie  The're'se  spoke  first  of  the  martyr-king. 
"  My  father, "  said  she,  "  before  leaving  us  forever, 
made  us  all  promise  never  to  think  of  avenging  his 
death,  and  he  was  very  sure  that  we  would  consider 
it  a  sacred  duty  to  fulfil  his  last  desire.  But  my 
brother's  extreme  youth  made  him  anxious  to  pro- 
duce a  still  stronger  impression  on  him.  He  took 
him  on  his  knee  and  said:  'My  son,  you  heard  what 
I  have  just  said,  but  as  an  oath  is  something  still 
more  sacred  than  a  promise,  lift  your  hand  and  swear 
that  you  will  accomplish  your  father's  last  will. ' ' 

"After  speaking  of  Louis  XVI.,  the  orphan  spoke 
of  Louis  XVII.  and  the  ill  usage  to  which  he  was 
subjected  daily.  'That  barbarous  Simon,'  said  she, 
'maltreated  him  in  order  to  force  him  to  sing  the 
Carmagnole  and  other  detestable  songs,  so  that  the 
Princesses  could  hear  him;  and  although  he  had  a 
horror  of  wine,  he  forced  him  to  drink  it  whenever 
he  wished  to  intoxicate  him. '  That  is  what  occurred 
on  the  day  when  he  obliged  him  to  repeat  in  pres- 
ence of  Madame  and  Madame  Elisabeth  the  horrors 
that  were  brought  up  during  the  trial  of  our  unhappy 
Queen.  At  the  close  of  this  atrocious  scene,  the 
wretched  little  Prince,  who  was  beginning  to  get 


THE  MITIGATION   OF  CAPTIVITY  123 

sober,  approached  his  sister  and  took  her  hand  to 
kiss  it;  the  hideous  Simon,  seeing  this,  begrudged 
him  that  slight  consolation  and  carried  him  hastily 
away,  leaving  the  Princesses  dismayed  by  what  they 
had  just  witnessed." 

The  young  captive  afterwards  related  with  pro- 
found emotion  all  she  owed  to  her  aunt,  Madame 
Elisabeth.  "These  details,  so  interesting  to  hear 
from  Madame's  lips,"  says  the  governess  of  the  chil- 
dren of  France,  "affected  us  to  tears;  we  admired 
the  courage  of  that  holy  Princess,  and  the  foresight 
which  included  all  that  could  be  useful  to  Madame. 
.  .  .  Not  content  to  occupy  herelf  with  her  own 
dear  ones,  she  employed  her  last  moments  in  prepar- 
ing those  condemned  to  share  her  fate  to  appear 
before  God ;  she  practised  the  most  heroic  charity  up 
to  the  very  moment  when  she  went  to  receive  the 
recompense  promised  to  virtue  as  tried  and  brilliant 
as  that  •  of  this  holy  Princess  had  been.  Madame 
had  difficulty  in  believing  that  she  had  really  lost 
her.  She  had  never  believed  that  fury  could  be 
pushed  to  such  a  point  as  to  shorten  the  life  of  a 
Princess  who  could  never  have  taken  any  part  in  the 
government.  ...  It  was  different  with  the  Queen. 
She  had  too  often  seen  her  spitefully  entreated ;  her 
courage,  and  her  title  as  mother  to  the  young  King 
were  too  much  feared  to  permit  any  hope  to  be  enter- 
tained of  reunion  with  her.  Hence  their  farewells 
had  been  heartrending." 

After   conversing   thus  about  her  family,   Marie 


124  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

The're'se  asked  for  tidings  of  all  those  who  had  been 
attached  to  her,  as  well  as  to  the  Queen  and  the 
royal  family,  and  especially  of  the  young  girls  she 
had  formerly  seen  with  her  governess.  She  forgot 
nothing  which  could  interest  them.  Madame  de 
Tourzel  and  her  daughter  afterwards  took  leave  of 
the  Princess,  promising  to  return  to  the  Temple 
three  times  every  ten  days,  as  the  Committee  of 
Public  Safety  had  given  them  permission  to  do. 

The  same  authorization  was  granted  to  the  Baron- 
ess of  Mackau,  under-governess  to  the  children  of 
France,  whose  daughter,  the  Marchioness  de  Bom- 
belles,  had  been  Madame  Elisabeth's  best  friend. 
Gomin  has  thus  described  their  first  visit  to  the 
Temple:  "Madame  de  Mackau,  who  was  very  old, 
and  whose  health  had  declined  through  her  long 
imprisonment,  appeared  to  be  suffering  and  hardly 
able  to  stand.  Madame,  who  had  been  notified  of 
her  arrival,  yielded  to  her  impatience,  and  running 
to  meet  her,  threw  herself  into  her  arms.  The 
former  under-governess  tried  to  excuse  herself  for 
not  having  reached  the  tower  before  Madame  had 
quitted  her  apartment.  'What! '  cried  Madame, 
'could  I  have  deferred  for  a  moment  the  pleasure  of 
embracing  you?'  'It  is  true,'  replied  Madame  de 
Mackau,  'that  Madame  has  come  down  stairs  much 
faster  than  I  could  have  gone  up. '  'It  is  three  years 
one  month  and  one  day  since  I  had  the  happiness  of 
seeing  you, '  cried  the  Princess,  embracing  her  gov- 
erness ;  then,  taking  her  arm  she  passed  it  under  her 


THE  MITIGATION  OF  CAPTIVITY  125 

own  with  affectionate  grace,  and  thus  assisted  her  to 
walk."  Having  conducted  her  to  tho  third  story  of 
the  tower,  she  expressed  herself  nearly  in  these 
words :  "  Let  us  weep,  but  not  for  my  relatives ; 
their  task  is  ended  and  they  have  received  its  recom- 
pense; no  one  will  ever  take  away  the  crown  God 
has  now  placed  on  their  heads.  Let  us  pray,  not  for 
them,  but  for  those  who  caused  them  to  perish.  As 
for  me,  these  bitter  years  have  not  been  unfruitful ; 
I  have  had  time  to  reflect  before  God  and  with  my 
own  self.  I  am  stronger  against  evil.  I  am  far 
from  confounding  the  French  nation  with  those  who 
have  torn  from  me  all  I  loved  best  in  the  world. 
Certainly,  I  should  be  charmed  to  leave  my  prison, 
but  I  would  prefer  the  tiniest  house  in  France  to 
the  honors  which  would  everywhere  else  attend  a 
Princess  so  unfortunate  as  I." 

On  the  day  following  her  first  visit  to  the  Temple, 
the  Marchioness  of  Tourzel  wrote  a  letter  to  Louis 
XVIII.  In  his  response  he  charged  her  to  sound 
Marie  The'rese  concerning  his  desire  to  marry  her  to 
his  nephew,  the  Duke  of  AngoulSme,  the  son  of  the 
Count  of  Artois.  This  marriage  harmonized  so  well 
with  the  attachment  the  young  Princess  bore  towards 
her  family,  and  even  towards  France  which  had 
treated  her  so  badly,  that  she  was  inclined  to  it  on 
her  own  account.  "  Another  motive  which  appealed 
powerfully  to  her  heart,"  adds  Madame  de  Tourzel, 
"was  the  express  wish  of  her  father  and  mother  to 
conclude  this  marriage  immediately  on  the  return  of 


126  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

the  Princes,  and  I  repeated  to  her  the  Queen's  own 
words  at  the  time  when  Their  Majesties  honored  me 
with  their  confidence  by  speaking  of  their  projects 
in  this  matter.  '  Some  persons  have  taken  pleas- 
ure in  giving  my  brothers  unfavorable  impressions 
of  my  sentiments  toward  them.  We  shall  prove  the 
contrary  by  giving  my  daughter's  hand  at  once  to 
the  Duke  of  Angouleme  in  spite  of  her  extreme 
youth,  which  might  have  made  us  wish  to  defer  it 
longer. ' ' 

Marie  The're'se  listened  with  emotion,  and  asked 
why  her  parents  had  never  spoken  to  her  of  the 
projected  marriage.  Madame  de  Tourzel  responded: 
"It  was  a  prudential  measure  on  their  part,  so  as 
not  to  occupy  your  imagination  with  thoughts  about 
marriage,  which  might  have  interfered  with  your 
application  to  study." 

From  the  moment  when  she  was  made  acquainted 
with  the  wishes  of  her  father  and  mother,  the 
orphan  considered  herself  definitely  affianced  to  the 
young  Prince  thus  designated  to  her  choice.  The 
idea  of  uniting  her  misfortunes  to  those  of  her  family 
and  of  being  still  useful  to  her  country  by  averting 
the  claims  which  her  marriage  to  a  foreign  prince 
might  give  rise  to,  had  made  on  her,  moreover,  a 
strong  impression.  Some  days  later,  when  a  rumor 
got  about  to  the  effect  that  the  young  Princess  was 
soon  going  to  Vienna  to  marry  the  Archduke 
Charles,  Madame  de  Mackau  said  to  her:  "If  this 
political  measure  should  contribute  to  bring  Madame 


THE  MITIGATION  OF  CAPTIVITY  127 

back  to  France,  I  should  rejoice  at  it."  "Ah!" 
replied  Marie  The'rdse,  "I  know  nothing  of  any 
political  measures  but  the  last  will  of  my  parents ; 
I  will  never  marry  anybody  but  the  Duke  of  Angou- 
leme." 

Madame  de  Tourzel  visited  the  Temple  regularly. 
The  former  governess  of  the  children  of  France  was 
on  sufficiently  good  terms  with  Madame  de  Chante- 
reine,  but  she  felt,  nevertheless,  something  of  that 
rivalry  which  nearly  always  shows  itself  among 
those  who  surround  princesses,  even  when  they  are 
exiles.  "Madame  de  Chantereine, "  she  says,  "did 
not  lack  intelligence,  and  appeared  to  have  received 
some  education.  She  knew  Italian,  and  this  had 
been  pleasant  for  Madame,  to  whom  it  had  been 
taught.  She  was  skilful  in  embroidery,  which  was 
a  resource  for  the  young  Princess,  to  whom  she  gave 
lessons  in  it.  But,  having  been  brought  up  in  a 
little  provincial  town  where  she  shone  in  society, 
she  had  acquired  an  air  of  self-sufficiency  and  such 
a  high  idea  of  her  own  merit  that  she  thought  she 
ought  to  be  Madame 's  mentor,  and  assumed  a  famil- 
iar tone  which  the  kindliness  of  that  Princess  pre- 
vented her  from  noticing.  Pauline  and  I  tried  to 
teach  her  due  respect  by  that  which  we  exhibited, 
but  in  vain.  She  had  so  little  notion  of  what  was 
becoming  that  she  thought  herself  authorized  to  take 
commanding  airs  which  made  us  sick  to  see.  She 
was  very  susceptible,  moreover,  liked  to  be  paid 
court  to,  and  looked  very  unfavorably  on  us  when 


128  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

she  saw  that  our  intercourse  with  her  was  restricted 
to  mere  politeness.  Madame  had  become  attached 
to  her,  and  lavished  the  kindest  attentions  on  her 
during  a  violent  nervous  attack  she  experienced  one 
day  when  we  were  at  the  Temple.  She  seemed  to 
be  attached  to  Madame,  and  under  the  actual  circum- 
stances we  could  not  be  otherwise  than  happy  to  find 
near  her  a  person  whom  she  seemed  to  find  agree- 
able, and  who  must  be  admitted  to  have  had  good 
qualities.  She  left  us  alone  with  Madame  during 
our  first  visits  to  that  Princess ;  but  afterwards  she 
always  joined  us." 

All  that  had  taken  place  at  the  Temple  was  highly 
interesting  to  Madame  de  Tourzel ;  but  what  occu- 
pied her  most  was  the  fate  of  Louis  XVII.  She 
sometimes  doubted  whether  the  child  were  really 
dead.  "  Not  being  able  to  endure  a  loss  so  grievous 
to  me,"  she  says,  "and  feeling  some  doubts  whether 
it  were  true,  I  wanted  to  make  positively  sure 
whether  all  hope  need  be  given  up.  From  my  child- 
hood I  had  known  Doctor  Jeanroi,  an  old  man  over 
eighty,  of  singular  probity,  and  profoundly  attached 
to  the  royal  family.  He  had  been  appointed  to  be 
present  when  the  young  King's  body  was  opened, 
and  being  able  to  rely  on  the  truth  of  his  testimony 
as  I  would  upon  my  own,  I  begged  him  to  call  on 
me.  His  reputation  had  caused  him  to  be  selected 
by  the  members  of  the  Convention  in  order  that  his 
signature  might  strengthen  the  proof  that  the  young 
King  had  not  been  poisoned.  This  worthy  man 


THE  MITIGATION  OF  CAPTIVITY  129 

refused  at  first  to  go  to  the  Temple  to  examine  the 
causes  of  death,  warning  them  that  if  he  found  the 
least  trace  of  poison  he  would  declare  it  even  at 
the  risk  of  his  life.  'You  are  the  very  man  whom 
it  is  essential  for  us  to  have,'  said  they,  'and  it  is  for 
this  reason  we  have  preferred  you  to  any  one  else. ' ' 

Madame  de  Tourzel  asked  the  old  physician  if  he 
had  known  the  young  Prince  well  before  he  entered 
the  Temple.  Jeanroi  replied  that  he  had  seldom 
seen  him,  and  added:  "The  face  of  this  child, 
whose  features  had  not  been  changed  by  the  shadows 
of  death,  was  so  beautiful  and  interesting  that  it  is 
never  out  of  my  mind.  I  should  recognize  him  per- 
fectly were  I  to  see  a  portrait  of  him."  Madame 
had  a  portrait  which  was  strikingly  like  him.  She 
showed  it  to  Jeanroi,  who  exclaimed:  "There  can 
be  no  mistake  about  it;  it  is  himself;  no  one  could 
deny  it." 

The  governess  of  the  children  of  France  looked 
at  the  different  rooms  of  the  tower  with  emotion,  as 
if  they  were  the  stations  of  a  Calvary.  One  day 
Marie  The're'se  offered  to  conduct  her  to  the  second 
story,  where  Louis  XVI.  and  Louis  XVII.  had 
dwelt.  The  Princess  entered  there  with  pious  re- 
spect, followed  by  Mademoiselle  Pauline  de  Tourzel. 
The  death  of  the  young  King  was  so  recent  that 
his  governess  had  not  sufficient  courage  to  visit  the 
place  where  he  had  suffered  so  much.  But  she  went 
with  the  Princess  into  the  apartments  of  the  little 
tower  where  she  had  herself  been  imprisoned  from 


130  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

August  13  to  August  20,  1792.  Marie  The'rese  said 
to  her:  "If  you  have  the  curiosity  to  examine  the 
register  lying  on  that  table,  you  may  see  the  report 
made  by  the  Commissioners  from  the  time  we  entered 
the  Temple."  Madame  de  Tourzel  did  not  wait  for 
a  second  invitation.  She  began  at  once  to  turn  over 
the  pages  of  the  register.  There  she  saw  the  reports 
daily  addressed  to  the  Convention  concerning  the 
royal  family,  and  especially  those  relating  to  the 
illness,  death,  and  burial  of  Louis  XVII.  "They 
convinced  me  but  too  well,"  she  says,  "that  not 
the  slightest  hope  of  the  young  King's  life  could 
be  reasonably  entertained. " 

Madame  de  Tourzel's  untiring  devotion  found 
means  to  establish  a  correspondence  between  Marie 
The're'se  and  Louis  XVIII.,  and  to  give  the  Prin- 
cess a  letter  from  the  Prince.  She  says:  "It  was 
the  reply  to  a  very  affecting  letter  which  Madame 
had  written  him  on  the  day  after  I  visited  her  for 
the  first  time.  The  King  wrote  in  the  most  affec- 
tionately paternal  tone,  and  she  was  very  anxious  to 
preserve  his  letter,  but  had  no  means  of  doing  so. 
I  risked  my  life  whenever  I  burdened  myself  with 
one  of  these  communications,  and  it  would  have  been 
the  same  thing  had  any  one  discovered  a  letter  from 
His  Majesty  in  Madame 's  apartments.  She  burned 
it,  but  with  great  reluctance,  and  I  was  extremely 
sorry  to  have  to  ask  such  a  sacrifice."  Fra^ois 
Hue  also  succeeded  in  conveying  a  letter  from  Louis 
XVIII.  to  the  Princess,  and  to  inform  her  of  the 


THE  MITIGATION  OF  CAPTIVITY  131 

substance  of  another  in  which  Charette,  in  express- 
ing the  sentiments  of  the  Catholic  and  royalist  army 
of  the  Vendee,  protested  that  he  and  his  companions 
in  arms  would  shed  their  last  drop  of  blood  to  liber- 
ate the  august  captive. 

Meanwhile,  public  opinion  was  becoming  more 
favorable  to  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie 
Antoinette.  Pamphlets  asking  for  her  delivery 
were  circulated,  and  an  almanac  was  published  at 
Basle  in  which,  under  a  pseudonym,  M.  Michaud 
wrote  as  follows:  "Marie  The'rese  is  at  liberty  to 
walk  in  the  courtyards  of  the  Temple.  The  two 
commissioners  who  are  continually  on  guard  take 
off  their  hats  when  they  approach  her,  and  treat  her 
with  the  respect  inspired  by  the  memory  of  what 
she  was  and  the  sad  spectacle  of  what  she  is  now. 
Several  persons  visit  her  every  day,  and  she  seldom 
dines  alone.  She  occupies  herself  a  good  deal  with 
a  goat  she  has,  which  knows  and  follows  her  famil- 
iarly. One  day  one  of  the  commissioners  called 
this  faithful  animal  to  see  if  it  would  not  follow 
him  also,  but,  to  the  gentle  amusement  of  Marie 
The'rese,  it  would  not.  A  dog  is  another  faithful 
companion  to  the  young  prisoner,  and  seems  much 
attached  to  her." 

When  the  Princess  went  down  into  the  Temple 
garden,  she  was  allowed  to  take  drawing-materials 
and  sketch  the  different  aspects  of  that  fatal  yet  hal- 
lowed tower  which  was  at  once  a  prison  and  a  sanct- 
uary. The  sympathetic  concerts  had  begun  again 


132  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOUL&ME 

in  neighboring  houses.  They  were  denounced  in 
this  fashion  by  a  person  named  Leblanc:  "During 
the  past  four  months  concerts  have  been  given 
from  time  to  time  in  the  Rotunda  of  the  Temple, 
in  the  garrets,  on  the  fourth  floor  reached  by  stair- 
case number  four.  This  lodging  had  been  occupied 
by  worthy  people  who  were  paid  very  high  to  give 
it  up.  For  the  last  two  '  decades  ' 1  the  concerts  have 
been  repeated  much  more  frequently  in  this  local- 
ity. Very  elegant  women,  and  men  with  tucked-up 
hair  come  there  to  contemplate  Capet's  daughter  at 
their  leisure ;  on  her  part,  she  never  fails  to  walk  in 
the  garden  of  the  Temple  as  soon  as  she  learns  that 
the  royalist  assembly  is  complete.  Then  the  partisans 
of  the  defunct  court  make  all  manner  of  protesta- 
tions of  devotion  and  respect  for  her  royal  person. 
The  concert  place  not  proving  large  enough  to  con- 
tain all  this  illustrious  company,  they  go  in  great 
numbers  to  a  house  in  the  rue  Beaujolais,  No.  12, 
whose  windows  likewise  command  a  view  of  the 
Temple  garden,  and  there,  as  in  the  garrets  of  the 
Rotunda,  they  publicly  repeat  the  same  gestures, 
signals,  and  marks  of  attachment  to  the  daughter  of 
Marie  Antoinette.  .  .  .  On  the  1st  Vende"miaire 
there  was  a  concert  at  about  five  in  the  afternoon, 
the  hour  at  which  they  ordinarily  commence,  and 
the  adoration  and  the  telegraphic  signs  were  kept  up 
until  the  end  of  the  day.  Persons  attached  to 

1  Under  the  Republic  the  days  were  divided  into  periods  of  ten 
each  instead  of  into  weeks. 


THE  MITIGATION  OF  CAPTIVITY  133 

various  theatres  are  believed  to  have  been  recog- 
nized there,  and  since  the  date  mentioned,  carriages, 
which  were  almost  unknown  in  this  quarter,  roll 
through  it  frequently.  Something  like  a  hundred 
persons  have  been  known  to  assemble  at  a  time  in 
the  places  above  mentioned.  They  are  successively 
and  continually  relieved  by  others." 

How  interesting  and  pathetic  these  improvised 
concerts  are!  Kindly  emotions  spread  from  street 
to  street,  from  house  to  house.  Passers-by  stop  and 
breathe  a  sigh.  The  people,  once  so  furious,  are 
returning,  to  better  sentiments.  All  mothers  pity 
the  young  orphan,  and  as  they  think  of  her  fate, 
they  say:  " Great  God!  If  such  a  thing  should  ever 
happen  to  my  children !  "  The  prisoner  descends 
the  gloomy  stairway  and  appears  in  the  garden. 
She  is  sixteen  years  old,  and  slender  in  figure.  Her 
features,  extremely  delicate  in  her  infancy,  have 
become  beautiful.  Her  eyes  are  expressive,  and  her 
once  fair  hair  is  now  of  a  chestnut  hue.  She  wears 
it  long  and  unpowdered.  How  beautiful  and  sym- 
pathetic she  seems !  Her  candor  and  ineffable  grace, 
her  gentle  and  melancholy  smile,  the  premature 
gravity  of  her  expression,  all  inspire  a  blended 
admiration  and  respect.  If  people  dared,  the  young 
captive  would  be  greeted  with  applause.  The  con- 
cert goes  on,  and  the  affecting  ballads  whose  har- 
monious echoes  arrive  at  her  ears  like  a  consolation, 
charm  and  soothe  her  sadness. 

Even   the   aspect   of  the   prison   is   less   sinister. 


134  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

The  sight  of  compassionate  faces  diminishes  the 
moral  sufferings  of  the  young  captive.  Tears  have 
their  poesy,  and  the  orphan  finds  in  her  regrets  I 
know  not  what  bitter  and  penetrating  delight.  The 
Temple  no  longer  horrifies  her.  She  clings  to  it  as 
to  a  consecrated  spot.  There  she  seems  to  see  the 
features  and  hear  the  voices  of  her  beloved  dead. 
Her  vividly  impressed  imagination  makes  them  live 
again.  She  questions  them,  and  they  answer  her 
from  beyond  the  tomb.  And  then  the  Temple  is  in 
France,  and  the  daughter  of  kings  loves  her  country 
so  much !  A  sort  of  struggle  goes  on  in  the  depths 
of  her  soul.  On  the  one  hand  she  is  impatient  to 
rejoin  her  uncle  Ixniis  XVIII. ;  on  the  other,  it  will 
cost  her  much  to  go  far  away  from  a  place  where 
her  parents  have  given  her  such  noble  and  affecting 
examples,  and  she  sometimes  asks  herself  if  captivity 
is  not  preferable  to  exile. 


VII 

NEW   SEVEEITIES 

MARIE  THERESE  was  gradually  accustoming 
herself  to  her  fate  when  new  anxieties  sud- 
denly came  to  plunge  her  into  sufferings  which 
reminded  her  of  her  most  wretched  days.  The  con- 
servative and  royalist  reaction  that  was  beginning 
had  inspired  her  with  great  though  transitory  hopes. 
There  had  been  a  moment  when  she  might  have 
thought  she  need  not  go  into  exile  to  obtain  free- 
dom, and  that  the  explosion  of  monarchical  senti- 
ment would  be  great  enough  to  bring  about  an 
immediate  restoration.  She  was  told  the  most 
cheering  news:  that  the  Convention  was  moribund 
and  had  neither  authority  nor  credit ;  that  the  popu- 
lace was  humbled  since  Prairial ; 1  that  the  royalist 
agencies  had  begun  their  underhand  labors ;  and  that 
the  cruel  executions  at  Quiberon  had  rendered  the 
men  of  Thermidor  as  opprobrious  as  the  partisans 
of  Robespierre.  Paris,  still  more  irritated  than  the 
provinces  against  the  revolutionists,  was  becoming 
the  headquarters  of  all  political  and  social  reaction. 

1  The  ninth  month  of  the  French  Eepublican  Calendar,  from 
May  20  to  June  18. 

135 


136  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

The  energy  of  the  Jeunesse  DorSe,1  the  principles  of 
the  middle  classes,  always  inimical  to  the  Jacobins,  the 
polemics  of  the  press  which,  since  the  9th  Thermidor, 
had  relentlessly  attacked  the  Septembrists,  all  contrib- 
uted to  make  the  capital  a  centre  of  agitation  which 
the  royalists  sought  to  turn  to  advantage.  The 
orphan  of  the  Temple  knew  that  out  of  the  forty- 
eight  sections  of  which  the  Parisian  National  Guard 
was  composed,  forty-three  had  declared  against  the 
Convention,  and  implicitly  against  the  Republic. 
A  shower  of  journals,  pamphlets,  brochures,  gave 
the  former  instruments  of  the  Terror  not  a  moment's 
respite.  The  Convention  had  just  resolved  that 
two-thirds  of  the  new  legislative  body  that  would 
succeed  it  must  necessarily  be  Convention  is  ts.  This 
resolution  produced  a  veritable  hue  and  cry.  The 
sections  protested  vigorously  against  it.  With  a 
single  exception,  they  all  opposed  the  decrees  of  the 
Convention,  and  were  willing  even  to  resort  to  arms 
against  them.  Marie  The'rese,  who  was  acquainted 
with  all  the  details  of  this  reactionary  movement, 
and  much  impressed  by  the  marks  of  sympathy  peo- 
ple accorded  her  with  impunity,  thought  it  not 
impossible  that  she  might  go  directly  to  the  Tuileries 
from  the  Temple.  She  was  encouraged  in  these 
blissful  dreams,  which  were  to  be  followed  by  a 
rude  awakening. 

1  The  name  given  in  1794  to  those  rich  young  men  who  united 
in  order  to  support  the  Thermidorians,  the  party  that  overthrew 
Robespierre. 


NEW  SEVERITIES  137 

From  the  12th  Vende*miaire,  Year  IV.  (October  4, 
1795),  a  great  tumult  became  evident  in  Paris. 
There  were  disturbances  in  the  evening,  and  seri- 
ous events  were  predicted  for  the  morrow.  In  the 
morning  of  the  13th  Vende'miaire,  Madame  de 
Tourzel  and  her  daughter  went  to  the  Temple  and 
conversed  with  Marie  The're'se  concerning  the  hopes 
they  entertained  from  the  royalist  movement.  The 
day  passed  in  comparative  quiet,  but  towards  half- 
past  four  in  the  afternoon  explosions  were  heard. 
Gomin  came  to  tell  the  Princess  that  they  were  fir- 
ing cannon,  and  that  having  gone  up  to  the  roof  of 
the  tower  he  had  heard  a  grand  fusillade.  Madame 
de  Tourzel  says  in  her  Memoirs:  "It  was  evident, 
since  we  had  heard  no  talk  concerning  this,  that 
what  was  occurring  was  not  in  our  favor,  and  Gomin 
cautioned  us  not  to  wait  until  nightfall  to  return 
home.  We  kept  putting  off  our  departure,  being 
unwilling  to  leave  Madame;  but  it  had  to  come  at 
last.  She  bade  us  adieu  very  sadly,  for  she  was 
thinking  of  the  sorrows  that  might  be  caused  by  this 
fatal  day,  and  we  promised  to  return  the  next  day  if 
there  were  the  slightest  possibility  of  doing  so. 

"  We  went  home  silently,  and  in  great  anxiety  as 
to  what  was  going  on  in  the  streets  of  Paris.  We 
saw  nothing  alarming  until  we  reached  the  Place  de 
Greve,  where  there  was  an  enormous  crowd  strug- 
gling and  suffocating  in  the  effort  to  escape  more 
quickly.  We  asked  a  man  who  seemed  less  excited 
than  the  others  whether  we  could  safely  cross  the 


138 


bridges  to  return  to  the  Faubourg  Saint-Germain. 
He  advised  us  to  keep  away  from  the  quays,  cross 
the  Pont  Notre  Dame  promptly,  and  make  our  way 
into  the  interior  of  Paris.  Crossing  the  bridge  was 
terrible;  we  could  see  the  smoke  and  flame  of  the 
cannon  incessantly  discharged." 

Each  report  echoed  in  the  heart  of  Marie  The'rese. 
"I  am  weeping  over  the  blood  shed  at  this  moment," 
she  said  to  Gomin.  The  men  who  were  struck  by 
the  bombs  were  her  friends,  the  royalists,  but  her 
compassion  extended  to  both  camps,  the  victors  and 
vanquished  alike,  for  all  were  Frenchmen.  Doubt- 
ful about  the  result  of  the  struggle,  she  was  a  prey 
to  the  keenest  anxiety,  and  fervently  asked  God  to 
put  an  end  to  the  fratricidal  combat  which  ensan- 
guined Paris. 

Meanwhile  cannons  were  thundering  simultane- 
ously in  the  rue  Saint-Honore",  on  the  Quai  du 
Louvre,  and  the  Pont  Royal.  A  man  whose  name 
was  still  unknown  to  the  orphan  of  the  Temple,  but 
who  was  to  exercise  an  immense  influence  on  her 
destiny  as  well  as  on  that  of  France  and  the  entire 
world,  a  man  who  was  to  delay  the  Bourbon  res- 
toration for  more  than  eighteen  years,  was  making 
his  first  appearance  on  the  scene  of  politics,  and 
signalizing  his  de*but  as  by  a  thunder  stroke. 
This  unknown  son  of  a  poor  Corsican  gentleman, 
had  been  an  officer  in  the  armies  of  Louis  XVI. 
Having  been  a  royalist,  he  had  become  a  republican, 
and  was  one  day  to  make  himself  Emperor.  The 


NEW  SEVERITIES  139 

Republic  was  saved  by  a  future  Caesar.  In  addition 
to  the  troops  of  the  Convention,  he  had  fifteen  hun- 
dred individuals  under  his  orders  who  called  them- 
selves the  patriots  of  1789,  and  who  had  been 
recruited  among  the  iSans-culottes,  the  pikemen,  and 
the  former  gendarmes  of  Fouquier-Tinville.  He 
hurled  them  upon  the  steps  of  the  church  of  Saint- 
Roch  to  dislodge  the  men  of  the  sections. 

These  had  no  artillery,  and  imagined  that  they 
needed  none,  their  heads  being  turned  by  the  exploits 
of  the  Vende'an  peasants,  who  had  often  seized  the 
enemy's  cannon  without  other  weapons  than  their 
cudgels.  But  they  were  soon  to  learn  their  error. 
Bonaparte's  great  argument,  cannon,  was  to  be  the 
victor.  He  swept  the  whole  length  of  the  rue  Saint- 
Honord,  and  from  the  upper  end  of  the  Pont  Royal 
demolished  the  royalist  columns  advancing  from  the 
Faubourg  Saint-Germain.  At  six  in  the  evening  the 
victory  of  the  Convention  was  complete ;  the  strug- 
gle had  lasted  but  an  hour  and  a  half. 

Madame  de  Tourzel  and  her  daughter  went  to  the 
Temple  the  following  day  and  gave  the  young  Prin- 
cess the  news  she  was  impatiently  expecting.  "  We 
could  tell  her  of  none  but  afflicting  events,"  she  says. 
"  The  Convention,  which  was  in  deadly  fear  lest  the 
sections  should  march  against  it,  completely  lost  its 
head ;  any  one  who  chose  entered  the  Committee  of 
Public  Safety  and  offered  his  advice.  Bonaparte, 
who  had  carefully  examined  all  that  was  going  on, 
who  knew  how  disorderly  were  the  movements  of  the 


140  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

sections  and  that  terror  pervaded  all  minds,  promised 
the  Convention  to  turn  the  affair  to  their  advantage, 
providing  they  would  leave  him  free  to  act.  He  had 
cannon  brought  up  to  the  rue  Saint-Honor^,  and  dis- 
persed the  troops  of  the  sections  in  a  moment  with  a 
rain  of  grapeshot.  This  was  the  beginning  of  his 
fortune.  Fear  and  stupor  took  the  place  of  hope; 
the  soldiers  insulted  passers-by,  and  every  one  trem- 
bled at  the  thought  of  the  possible  results  of  this 
ruthless  day." 

The  illusions  in  which  Marie  Therese  had  been 
living  for  some  weeks  were  dissipated.  When  she 
learned  that  the  Convention  had  triumphed,  she 
thought  the  crimes  of  the  Terror  were  about  to 
recommence.  For  some  time  longer  she  was  per- 
mitted to  receive  Madame  and  Mademoiselle  de 
Tourzel,  who  came  on  foot  every  morning  to  the 
Temple,  unaccompanied  by  a  servant,  and  did  not 
return  home  until  night.  But  this  consolation  was 
among  those  of  which  the  young  prisoner  was  speed- 
ily deprived.  The  Convention  had  come  to  the  end 
of  its  stormy  career.  At  half-past  two,  October  26, 
1795,  the  President  declared  the  last  session  ad- 
journed, adding:  "Union  and  amity  between  all 
Frenchmen  is  the  way  to  save  the  Republic." 
"What  is  the  hour?"  asked  a  deputy.  "The  hour 
of  justice ! "  replied  an  unknown  voice.  The  terri- 
ble Assembly  dispersed.  October  29,  the  Council  of 
Ancients  and  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred  assem- 
bled, one  at  the  Tuileries,  and  the  other  in  the  Hall 


NEW  SEVERITIES  141 

of  the  Mandge :  the  five  Directors  afterwards  installed 
themselves  in  the  Luxembourg  palace. 

At  first  the  new  government  manifested  great 
severity  toward  the  royalists.  Lemaitre,  one  of 
their  agents,  was  condemned,  November  8,  1795, 
and  died  bravely,  after  refusing  to  make  any  dis- 
closures. Madame  de  Tourzel  was  arrested  at  the 
same  time  on  a  charge  of  conspiracy.  She  was 
subjected  to  a  minute  examination,  and  was  three 
times  kept  in  close  confinement  in  a  prison  for 
twenty-four  hours  together.  As  soon  as  she  was 
released  she  hastened  to  the  Temple,  but  was 
informed  at  the  door  that  she  was  henceforward 
forbidden  to  cross  its  threshold.  Marie  The're'se  and 
Madame  de  Chantereine  were  also  interrogated,  but 
the  official  who  conducted  their  examination  became 
fully  persuaded  that  both  had  remained  entirely 
ignorant  of  the  recent  movement  in  Paris.  Never- 
theless, rigorous  measures  were  taken.  The  same 
decree  which  forbade  Madame  de  Tourzel  and  her 
daughter  to  enter  the  Temple,  forbade  Madame  de 
Chantereine  to  leave  it.  All  intercourse  between 
her  and  her  family  was  interdicted,  and  she  was 
treated  like  a  suspected  person.  The  concerts  in 
the  neighboring  houses  were  not  renewed.  Alarmed 
by  these  changes,  Marie  The're'se  began  to  dread  the 
return  of  the  Terror.  Sometimes  she  thought  her- 
self fated  to  execution,  and  sometimes  to  unending 
captivity.  And  yet  the  hour  of  her  release  was 
about  to  strike. 


VIII 

THE  NEGOTIATION  WITH  AUSTRIA 

HTTWER  since  June,  1795,  the  question  of  liberat- 
J  J  ing  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  had  been  seri- 
ously entertained.  Austria  had  opened  negotiations 
with  the  Convention  having  that  end  in  view.  As 
this  power  was  at  war  with  France,  the  business  was 
not  transacted  directly  between  the  two  countries, 
but  was  managed  in  Switzerland,  by  the  intermedi- 
ation of  M.  Bourcard,  chief  of  the  regency  of  Basel, 
between  Baron  Degelmann,  Austrian  Minister  to 
Switzerland,  and  M.  Bacher,  first  secretary  to  the 
French  Embassy.  The  Cabinet  of  Vienna  at  first 
proposed  a  sum  of  two  millions  as  a  ransom  for  the 
young  Princess,  but  the  offer  was  refused.  Several 
prisoners  whose  release  was  greatly  desired  by  the 
Convention  were  held  in  custody  by  the  Austrian 
government,  and  it  proposed  to  exchange  her  against 
them.  On  12  Messidor,  Year  III.  (June  30,  1795), 
Treilhard  thus  expressed  himself  in  the  Convention, 
on  behalf  of  the  Committees  of  Public  Safety  and 
General  Security :  — 

"  The  triumph  of  the  French  people,  the  hopes  of 
all  enlightened  men,  and  the  opinion  of  the  whole 
142 


THE  NEGOTIATION   WITH  AUSTRIA          143 

world,  sanction  the  Republic.  It  would  be  madness 
to  doubt  its  stability.  The  moment  has  arrived, 
then,  when  it  is  fitting  to  consider  the  daughter  of 
the  last  King  of  the  French.  An  imperative  duty, 
that  of  the  safety  of  the  State,  prescribed  the  seclu- 
sion of  this  family.  To-day  you  are  too  strong  for 
this  rigorous  measure  to  be  indispensable.  Your 
committees  propose  that  an  act  of  humanity  shall 
be  made  tributary  to  the  reparation  of  a  great  in- 
justice. The  most  foul  and  odious  treachery  has 
delivered  a  minister  of  the  Republic  and  certain 
representatives  of  the  people  to  a  hostile  power; 
and  by  a  violation  of  the  rights  of  nations,  the  same 
power  has  caused  the  arrest  of  citizens  vested  with 
the  sacred  character  of  ambassadors.  In  this  ex- 
change, therefore,  we  cede  a  right  in  order  to  ter- 
minate an  injustice.  It  behooves  the  Viennese  gov- 
ernment to  reflect  well  on  these  considerations ;  it 
may  choose  between  its  attachment  to  the  ties  of 
blood  and  its  desire  to  prolong  a  useless  and  hateful 
vengeance.  It  does  not  appear  to  us  that  this  mat- 
ter need  become  the  subject  of  a  negotiation ;  it 
will  be  sufficient  that  you  explain  yourselves,  and 
the  French  generals  will  be  charged  to  transmit  your 
declaration  to  the  generals  of  the  Austrian  army." 

A  decree  in  conformity  with  these  sentiments  was 
at  once  drawn  up  by  the  recording  officer,  and 
adopted  before  the  close  of  the  session.  It  was 
conceived  in  the  following  terms :  "  The  National 
Convention,  after  listening  to  the  report  of  its 


144  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

Committees  of  Public  Safety  and  General  Security, 
declares  that  on  the  very  instant  when  the  rive 
representatives  of  the  people,  the  Minister,  the  French 
ambassadors,  the  principal  prisoners  delivered  by 
Dumouriez  to  the  Prince  of  Cobourg,  the  postmaster 
Drouet,  captured  on  the  Flemish  frontiers,  the  am- 
bassadors Maret  and  Se'monville,  arrested  in  Italy 
by  the  Austrians,  and  the  persons  of  their  suite  who 
were  either  delivered  up  to  Austria  or  arrested  and 
detained  by  its  orders,  shall  be  set  at  liberty  and 
arrive  on  French  territory,  the  daughter  of  the  last 
King  of  the  French  shall  be  handed  over  to  the  per- 
son delegated  to  receive  her  by  the  Austrian  govern- 
ment." 

There  are  few  things  so  curious  as  this  affair  to 
be  found  in  the  history  of  diplomacy.  The  mere 
names  of  the  persons  to  be  exchanged  for  the  orphan 
of  the  Temple  give  rise  to  a  multitude  of  reflections. 
Among  the  prisoners  surrendered  by  Austria  figures 
Drouet,  the  postmaster  of  the  Varennes  journey,  who 
by  recognizing  Louis  XVI.  at  Sainte-Menehould  and 
pursuing  him  to  Varennes,  had  caused  his  arrest 
and  thus  been  the  cause  of  the  downfall  of  royalty. 
It  was  this  Drouet  who,  on  becoming  a  member  of 
the  Convention,  proposed  in  1793  that  all  English 
persons  found  in  France  should  be  condemned  to 
death,  exclaiming  from  the  tribune:  "This  is  the 
time  for  bloodshed.  What  do  we  care  for  our  rep- 
utation in  Europe?  Let  us  be  brigands,  since  the 
welfare  of  peoples  demands  it."  Sent  as  commis- 


TUE  NEGOTIATION   WITH  AUSTRIA          145 

sioner  of  the  Army  of  the  North,  he  was  at  Mau- 
beuge  when  it  was  besieged  by  the  Prince  of  Co- 
bourg.  Seeing  that  the  place  was  about  to  be  taken, 
he  essayed  to  make  his  way  through  the  enemies' 
camp,  but  fell  into  their  hands  and  was  incarcerated 
in  the  fortress  of  Spielberg.  Happily,  the  young 
Princess  was  not  to  be  confronted  with  the  prisoners 
against  whom  it  was  intended  to  exchange  her. 
What  impression  would  have  been  produced  on  her 
by  the  sight  of  Drouet,  who  had  left  so  terrible 
a  trace  on  her  memory?  The  strange  caprices  of 
a  period  fertile  in  revolutions  and  surprises  made 
Drouet  sub-prefect  of  Sainte-Menehould,  during  the 
reign  of  Napoleon,  and  in  1814  he  received  the  cross 
from  the  Emperor's  hands.  Under  the  Restoration, 
the  law  concerning  regicides  included  his  case,  and 
he  concealed  himself  at  Macon  under  the  name  of 
Merger.  There  he  led  a  very  secluded  and  pious 
life,  and  it  was  not  until  his  death,  April  11,  1824, 
that  it  became  known  at  Macon  that  Merger,  whose 
manners  had  been  so  peaceable  and  edifying,  was  in 
reality  Drouet  the  Conventionist. 

Another  of  the  prisoners  was  also  to  have  a  singu- 
lar destiny,  —  Beurnonville,  once  a  Minister  of  the 
Terror,  afterwards  a  Marquis  and  a  Marshal  of 
France  under  the  Restoration.  Having  been  ap- 
pointed Minister  of  War  a  few  days  after  the  murder 
of  Louis  XVI.,  he  was  sent,  April  1,  1793,  to  the 
Army  of  the  North  with  four  commissioners  of  the 
Convention  —  Camus,  Bancal,  Quinette,  and  La- 


146       THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

marque  —  to  seize  the  person  of  Dumouriez,  who 
was  accused  of  maintaining  relations  with  Austria. 
Warned  of  his  danger  in  time,  Dumouriez  arrested 
the  minister  and  the  four  commissioners  and  deliv- 
ered all  five  to  the  Prince  of  Cobourg.  They  were 
held  as  prisoners  of  Austria  until  exchanged  for 
Marie  The're'se.  In  1796,  Beurnonville  became  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  the  Army  of  the  North ;  in  1800, 
ambassador  to  Berlin ;  in  1802,  ambassador  to 
Madrid;  in  1814,  a  member  of  the  Provisional  Gov- 
ernment. In  full  favor  under  the  Restoration,  he 
followed  Louis  XVIII.  to  Ghent,  and  was  named 
Marshal  of  France  in  1816,  and  Marquis  in  1817. 

The  two  ambassadors  of  the  Convention,  to  Na- 
ples and  to  Constantinople,  who  had  been  arrested 
in  Italy  and  detained  in  captivity  by  Austria,  were 
also  among  those  exchanged  for  the  daughter  of 
Louis  XVI. :  Maret,  the  future  Duke  of  Bassano, 
Napoleon's  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs ;  and  Se'mon- 
ville,  the  pre-eminently  clever  man  whom  Napoleon 
made  a  councillor  of  State,  ambassador  to  Holland, 
and  senator,  and  who  was  afterwards  one  of  the 
favorites  of  the  Restoration  and  grand  referendary 
of  the  Chamber  of  Peers  during  the  reign  of  Louis 
Philippe.  How  many  revolutions  are  recalled  by 
the  mere  names  of  these  different  personages ! 

But  to  return  to  the  details  of  the  negotiation. 
Conformably  with  the  decree  passed  by  the  Conven- 
tion, June  30,  1795,  General  Pichegru,  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  Army  of  the  Upper  Rhine,  com- 


THE  NEGOTIATION   WITH  AUSTEIA          147 

municated  the  proposal  of  exchange  to  the  Austrian 
general,  Stein.  The  Emperor  of  Austria  at  first 
experienced  an  extreme  repugnance  to  accede  to  it, 
but  he  ended  by  accepting  it  in  principle.  In  a  note 
transmitted  to  Pichegru  by  the  Austrian  general, 
Clairfayt,  he  said :  "  Since  it  is  but  too  true  that  in 
the  rnidst  of  the  violent  catastrophes  which  succeed 
each  other  in  the  French  Revolution  I  ought  to  con- 
sult nothing  but  my  tender  affection  for  my  cousin, 
I  desire  you  to  make  known  to  the  French  general 
that  I  accede  in  the  main  to  the  proposition  made  me. 
But  there  is  another  proposition  which  I  think  it 
well  to  add  to  that  contained  in  the  document  re- 
mitted to  General  Stein;  its  object  is  the  mutual 
exchange  of  numerous  prisoners  of  war  about  whom, 
notwithstanding  my  reiterated  demands,  they  have 
stubbornly  refused  to  concern  themselves." 

The  negotiations  at  Basel  were  long  and  difficult, 
and  terminated  only  under  the  Directory.  Before 
their  conclusion,  Baron  Degelmann,  representing  the 
Cabinet  of  Vienna,  transmitted  to  M.  Boscher,  the 
representative  of  France,  a  note  by  which  the  Aus- 
trian government  designated  the  person  it  desired  to 
accompany  the  young  Princess  on  her  journey :  "  It 
is  understood,"  says  this  note,  "that  so  young  a 
person  must  not  be  left,  during  a  long  journey,  with- 
out a  companion  already  known  to  her  and  possessing 
her  confidence.  It  is  likewise  understood,  that  this 
companion  should  be  acceptable  at  the  place  where 
she  is  going.  The  virtues  of  Madame  de  Tourzel, 


148  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

and  the  prudence  for  which  she  is  renowned,  would 
render  her  more  agreeable  to  the  Austrian  court 
than  any  lady  not  known  there.  Compliant  our- 
selves concerning  the  rendition  of  several  state 
prisoners  and  those  who  share  their  detention,  we 
may  hope  that  they  will  not  be  less  so  in  France  with 
regard  to  a  choice  which  suggests  itself  so  naturally 
that  it  has  been  anticipated  by  many." 

There  was  no  longer  anything  in  the  way  of  the 
deliverance  of  Marie  The'rdse.  A  decree  thus 
worded  was  passed  by  the  Directory  November  27, 
1795 :  "  The  Ministers  of  the  Interior  and  of  Foreign 
Affairs  are  commissioned  to  take  the  necessary 
measures  to  accelerate  the  exchange  of  the  last  King's 
daughter  against  citizens  Camus  and  Quinette,  and 
other  agents  or  deputies  of  the  Republic,  to  appoint 
an  officer  of  gendarmes  fit  and  proper  for  such  duty 
to  accompany  the  daughter  of  the  last  King,  and  to 
give  her  as  a  companion  that  one  of  the  persons 
devoted  to  her  education  who  pleases  her  best." 

Benezech,  Minister  of  the  Interior,  went  to  the 
Temple  the  following  day,  to  announce  to  the 
daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette  that 
her  chains  were  at  last  to  be  broken. 


IX 

THE  DEPARTURE  FROM  THE  TEMPLE 

WHEN  Benezech,  Minister  of  the  Interior,  ap- 
prised Marie  The'rese,  November  28,  1795, 
that  she  was  soon  to  leave  the  Temple,  the  young 
prisoner  was  greatly  moved.  She  might  have  experi- 
enced joy  had  permission  been  given  her  to  rejoin 
her  uncle,  Louis  XVIIL,  but  the  idea  of  going  to 
Vienna,  where  she  knew  not  what  awaited  her, 
caused  her  anxiety.  She  thought  the  Emperor  of 
Austria  had  not  done  what  he  should  to  save  Marie 
Antoinette,  and  the  policy  of  the  Austrian  govern- 
ment awoke  suspicions  in  the  daughter  of  the  martyr- 
queen  which  the  future  was  to  justify.  Whether 
she  had  a  presentiment  of  the  snares  that  would  be 
laid  for  her  in  Vienna  and  the  quasi-captivity  she 
was  to  undergo  there,  or  whether,  a  Frenchwoman 
at  heart,  she  was  saddened  by  the  thought  of  living 
in  a  strange  land,  at  all  events,  she  received  the 
tidings  of  her  approaching  deliverance  without  en- 
thusiasm. 

There  was  at  this  period  more  than  one  latent 
royalist,  more  than  one  high  official  in  government 
circles,  who  looked  forward  to  a  possible  Bourbon 

149 


150  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

Restoration.  Was  not  Ban-as  himself  to  intrigue  one 
day  with  Louis  XVIII.  ?  Benezech,  possibly  still 
more  through  kindness  of  heart  than  through  inter- 
ested motives,  secretly  sympathized  with  the  royal 
family.  The  youth,  the  virtues,  the  misfortunes,  and 
the  grace  of  the  orphan  of  the  Temple  touched  him 
profoundly.  He  showed  her  great  respect,  and 
asked  what  persons  she  desired  to  accompany  her  to 
Vienna.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation  the  young 
Princess  named  Madame  de  Tourzel,  Madame  de 
Mackau,  and  Madame  de  Se*rent,  formerly  lady  of  the 
bedchamber  to  Madame  Elisabeth. 

The  Minister  gave  Marie  The're'se  room  to  hope 
that  her  choice  would  be  ratified  by  the  Directory 
without  any  difficulty.  He  added  that  he  would 
attend  to  all  the  preparations  for  her  departure,  and 
would  send  her  two  persons  through  whom  she  could 
order  the  dresses  she  wished  to  have  made.  Two 
members  of  the  administrative  commission  of  police 
presented  themselves"  at  the  Temple  the  next  day 
for  that  purpose.  In  spite  of  their  insistence,  she 
limited  herself  to  pointing  out  such  things  as  were 
strictly  necessary,  a  small  quantity  of  linen  under- 
wear, some  shoes,  and  the  simplest  materials.  She 
was  unwilling  to  receive  more  from  the  government. 
As  they  represented  that  on  arriving  at  the  court  of 
Austria  she  would  need  an  outfit  suitable  to  her 
rank,  she  replied :  "  If  they  will  permit  me  to  take 
a  few  souvenirs  which  remind  me  of  that  rank,  let 
them  return  the  things  which  belonged  to  my  mother 


THE  DEPARTURE  FROM  THE  TEMPLE   151 

and  me,  and  which  were  taken  away  from  us  a  few 
days  after  our  arrival  at  the  tower."  These  included 
body-linen  and  some  gowns  and  laces.  The  seals 
placed  on  the  chest  of  drawers  in  which  these  objects 
had  been  deposited  were  removed,  but  Marie  The*- 
rese's  wish  was  not  granted. 

Meanwhile  public  sympathy  with  the  orphan  of 
the  Temple  was  constantly  increasing.  Benezech 
dared  propose  to  have  her  travel  across  France  in  an 
open  carriage  drawn  by  eight  horses,  surrounded  by 
persons  designated  by  herself.  The  suggestion  was 
not  well  received,  but  the  very  fact  that  it  was  offered 
to  the  Directory  by  a  minister  proved  the  reaction 
that  had  taken  place.  The  same  thing  is  attested 
by  Francois  Hue  in  these  terms  :  — 

"At  this  epoch  certain  members  of  the  National 
Convention  who  felt,  in  common  with  a  majority  of 
the  inhabitants  of  Paris,  a  keen  interest  in  the  fate 
of  Madame  Royale,  whose  death  was  desired  by  a 
few  regicides,  extorted  a  decree  in  her  favor  in 
accordance  with  which  the  Executive  Directory 
passed  a  resolution  of  which  M.  Benezech,  Minister 
of  the  Interior,  gave  me  a  copy.  This  minister  sent 
me  also  another  resolution  which,  in  consequence  of 
Madame's  having  deigned  to  request  that  I  should 
follow  her  to  Vienna,  authorized  me  to  accompany 
her,  and  even  to  remain  near  her,  without  incurring 
the  penalties  of  the  laws  against  emigration  on 
account  of  this  journey. 

"  M.  Benezech  had  spoken  to  me  with  emotion  con- 


152  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

cerning  the  fate  of  the  young  Princess,  whom  he 
never  called  by  any  other  name  than  Madame  Roy- 
ale.  Seeing  that  I  looked  at  him  with  surprise,  he 
said :  '  This  new  costume  is  simply  my  mask ;  I  am 
even  going  to  reveal  one  of  my  most  secret  thoughts 
to  you :  France  will  never  regain  tranquillity  until 
the  day  when  it  resumes  its  former  government. 
Therefore,  when  you  can  do  so  without  compromis- 
ing me,  lay  the  offer  of  my  services  at  the  King's 
feet,  and  assure  His  Majesty  that  I  shall  be  zealous 
in  caring  for  the  interests  of  his  crown.' " 

To  sum  up,  the  Directory  showed  real  good  will 
toward  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  Nevertheless, 
it  did  not  permit  Madame  de  Tourzel  to  accompany 
her.  It  mistakenly  supposed  the  former  governess 
of  the  children  of  France  to  favor  the  idea  of  a 
marriage  between  the  Princess  and  an  Archduke, 
and  that  the  Austrian  government  would  make  use 
of  such  a  matrimonial  alliance  in  order  to  advance 
claims  on  a  portion  of  French  territory.  The  choice 
of  Madame  de  Tourzel,  like  that  of  Madame  de 
Se*rent,  was  rejected,  and  the  governess  had  not  even 
the  consolation  of  bidding  adieu  to  her  former  pupil. 
As  to  Madame  de  Mackau,  her  health  not  permitting 
her,  to  her  great  regret,  to  accompany  the  young 
Princess,  her  place  was  taken  by  her  daughter, 
Madame  de  Soucy.  The  other  two  persons  who 
escorted  Marie  Therese  were  the  honest  and  respect- 
ful keeper,  Gomin,  for  whom  she  had  nothing  but 
praise,  and  M.  Me*chain,  an  officer  of  gendarmes  who 
had  been  highly  recommended  to  her. 


THE  DEPARTURE  FROM  THE  TEMPLE        153 

December  16,  1795,  Benezech,  Minister  of  the 
Interior,  presented  himself  at  the  Temple  and  an- 
nounced to  the  Princess  that  she  was  to  depart  on  the 
18th,  at  half-past  eleven  in  the  evening.  She  made 
her  own  preparations  for  the  journey  on  the  17th, 
but  not  with  the  alacrity  and  pleasure  that  might 
have  been  expected.  She  selected  the  small  quan- 
tity of  linen  and  other  apparel  that  she  wished  to 
take,  and  had  the  rest  distributed  to  the  employees  of 
the  Temple  as  memorials  of  her.  Then  she  put  on 
her  best  gown  and  descended  into  the  garden,  where 
she  saluted,  by  way  of  farewell,  the  persons  who 
were  in  the  habit  of  making  signs  of  sympathy  and 
respect  from  the  windows  of  neighboring  houses. 
This  adieu  of  the  young  captive,  who  by  a  smile  and  a 
grateful  gesture  thanks  the  compassionate  souls  who 
have  not  the  happiness  of  speaking  to  or  approach- 
ing her,  but  who  find  means  to  send  her  their  good 
wishes  and  their  homage  by  the  movements  of  their 
heads  and  the  expression  of  their  faces,  is  full  of  a 
penetrating  poetry  worthy  to  inspire  the  brush  of  a 
great  painter. 

The  Directory  had  decided  that  the  departure  of 
the  young  Princess  should  take  place  at  night.  It 
had  its  reasons  for  preventing  her  from  passing- 
through  the  streets  of  the  capital  in  broad  daylight. 
The  mere  sight  of  her  might  cause  a  revolution  — 
the  revolution  of  pity.  No  discourse  could  be  so 
eloquent  as  the  aspect  of  this  young  girl,  a  living 
legend,  the  legend  of  innocence  and  virtue,  of  youtL 


154  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

and  misfortune.  Her  face  alone  touched  the  heart. 
How  much  greater  still  would  have  been  the  gen- 
eral emotion  could  people  have  read  the  depths  of 
her  soul,  could  they  have  known  all  the  trials  re- 
served for  this  gentle  victim  in  the  future !  She 
had  not  reached  the  last  station  of  her  Calvary. 
How  many  exiles,  how  many  revolutions,  what 
sufferings  of  every  description,  the  daughter  of 
Louis  XVI.  was  to  yet  undergo!  Providence  had 
decreed  that  the  chalice  of  bitterness  should  never 
be  taken  from  her  lips. 

The  moment  of  departure  arrives.  It  is  the  18th 
of  December,  1795.  It  is  eleven  o'clock  at  night. 
Minister  Benezech,  who  has  left  his  carriage  in  the 
riie  Meslay,  knocks  at  the  Temple  door.  He  hands 
to  Lasne  the  keeper  and  to  the  civil  commissioner 
a  duplicate  of  the  decree  of  the  Executive  Directory, 
followed  by  this  declaration :  "  The  Minister  of  the 
Interior  declares  that  Citizens  Gomin  and  Lasne, 
commissioners  placed  on  guard  at  the  Temple,  have 
delivered  to  him  Marie  The'relse,  daughter  of  the  last 
King,  in  the  enjoyment  of  perfect  health;  which 
delivery  was  made  to-day  at  eleven  in  the  evening, 
declaring  that  the  said  commissioners  are  well  and 
duly  discharged  of  the  keeping  of  the  said  The're'se 
Charlotte. — Signed  Benezech.  — Paris,  this  27th  Fri- 
maire,  Year  IV.  of  the  Republic,  one  and  indivisible." 

The  Princess,  with  Gomin  at  her  side,  is  waiting 
for  the  Minister  in  the  Council  Hall  on  the  ground- 
floor  of  the  tower.  She  leaves  it  after  bidding  adieu 


THE  DEPASTURE  FROM  THE  TEMPLE   155 

to  Madame  de  Chantereine.  Her  apartment  on  the 
third  floor  is  empty.  This  inscription  which  she 
had  written  in  the  antechamber  with  the  point  of  a 
needle  or  a  scissors  may  be  read  there  :  — 

"Marie  The"r6se  Charlotte  is  the  most  unhappy 
person  in  the  world.  She  can  obtain  no  tidings  of 
her  mother,  nor  even  be  reunited  to  her,  although 
she  has  asked  a  thousand  times. 

"  Long  live  my  good  mother,  whom  I  love  much, 
and  of  whom  I  can  obtain  no  news  ! " 

In  her  own  chamber  were  these  words  which  she 
had  chalked  on  the  wall :  — 

"  O  my  father,  watch  over  me  from  heaven ! 

"  O  my  God !  pardon  those  who  caused  the  death 
of  my  parents !  " 

A  few  days  afterward  a  regicide  Conventionist, 
Rovere,  visited  the  Temple  tower  and  read  this  last 
inscription.  He  turned  pale,  and  as  he  has  himself 
recorded,  remorse  drove  him  from  the  apartment. 

Marie  The*re"se  has  crossed  the  threshold  of  the 
Temple.  She  takes  Benezech's  arm.  Gomin  and 
the  Minister's  valet  follow  her,  carrying  a  package 
and  a  carpet-bag.  A  sentry  is  under  arms,  but  he 
has  his  instructions,  and  does  not  budge.  The  sol- 
diers on  guard  also  remain  motionless.  Their  officer 
alone  comes  forward  and  salutes.  The  night  is  dark, 
the  neighboring  streets  are  empty,  the  approaches  of 
the  Temple  silent.  "I  am  sensible  of  your  atten- 
tions and  your  respect,"  says  the  Princess  to  Bene- 
zech,  "but  even  at  the  hour  when  I  owe  you  my 


156  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

liberty,  how  can  I  refrain  from  thinking  of  those 
who  have  crossed  this  threshold  before  me?  It  is 
just  three  years  four  months  and  five  days  since 
these  doors  closed  upon  my  family  and  me ;  to- 
day I  go  out  the  last,  and  the  most  wretched  of 
all." 

At  the  moment  when  she  departed  thus  from  the 
fatal  precincts  of  the  Temple,  Marie  The're'se  recalled 
all  she  had  suffered  there :  her  entry  into  the  tower 
by  torchlight,  the  adieus  of  Louis  XVI.  as  he  was 
going  to  the  scaffold,  the  day  when  she  was  sepa- 
rated from  her  brother,  the  days  when  Marie  Antoi- 
nette and  Madame  Elisabeth  departed,  and  that  on 
which  she  learned  at  the  same  time  the  death  of 
three  beings  so  dear  to  her  heart.  All  these  sinister 
dates  renewed  themselves  in  her  mind.  And  yet, 
it  was  not  without  regret  that  she  left  the  dungeon 
which  had  been  the  sanctuary  of  faith  and  of  sorrow. 
Just  as  some  persons  cannot  tear  themselves  away 
from  a  tomb  above  which  they  have  prayed,  so  the 
child  of  martyrs  was  loath  to  leave  the  abode  where 
her  parents  had  given  her  such  admirable  examples. 
If  she  had  at  least  had  the  certainty  of  revisiting  the 
Temple,  to  kneel  there  and  pray  God  for  the  execu- 
tioners of  her  family !  But  no,  that  consolation  was 
not  granted  her.  Eighteen  years  later,  when  the 
unfortunate  Princess  returned  to  France,  Napoleon 
had  caused  the  tower  to  be  demolished,  and  not  a 
stone  of  it  remained. 


SECOND  PART 
THE   EXILE 


THE  JOURNEY  TO  THE  FRONTIER 

IT  is  December  18,  1795  —  27  Frimaire,  Year  IV. 
It  is  half-past  eleven  o'clock  at  night.  Marie 
The're'se  of  France,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  Benezech, 
Minister  of  the  Interior,  leaves  the  precinct  of  the 
Temple  by  the  rue  de  la  Corderie,  opposite  the  tower, 
and  walks  through  this  street.  She  finds  the  Minis- 
ter's carriage  at  rue  Meslay,  and  gets  into  it  with 
him  and  Gomin  the  keeper.  The  street  is  empty. 
No  one  sees  the  daughter  of  kings  depart.  The  car- 
riage starts  and  arrives  at  rue  Bondy,  behind  the 
Opera  House  (the  present  theatre  of  the  Porte  Saint- 
Martin).  The  Princess,  the  Minister,  and  Gomin 
leave  the  carriage.  Just  in  front  of  them  stands  the 
travelling  berliu  in  which  Marie  The're'se  is  to  be 
taken  to  the  frontier.  On  the  front  seat  of  this  ber- 
lin  are  Madame  de  Soucy,  the  daughter  of  the  Baron- 
ess of  Mackau,  and  Me'chain,  the  officer  of  gendarmes, 
who,  like  Gomin,  is  to  accompany  the  young  Princess. 

167 


158  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

She  takes  leave  of  Benezech,  thanks  him,  and  gets 
into  the  carriage  with  Gomin.  "  Adieu,  Monsieur  !  " 
she  says.  Then  she  departs  into  exile.  Benezech 
pulls  out  his  watch.  It  is  midnight.  The  19th  of 
December,  1795,  is  beginning.  On  this  day,  the 
daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette,  born 
at  Versailles  December  19,  1778,  enters  her  eigh- 
teenth year. 

The  young  Princess  travels  incognito,  under  the 
name  of  Sophie.  The  government  has  instructed 
Me'chain,  the  officer  of  the  gendarmes,  to  conduct  to 
Huningue  two  women  and  a  man  (Marie  The're'se, 
Madame  de  Soucy,  and  Gomin)  ;  one  of  these  women 
is  to  pass  for  his  daughter,  and  the  other  for  his  wife, 
the  man  for  his  confidential  servant.  His  orders  are 
to  allow  no  one  to  speak  with  them  in  private.  He 
is  to  occupy  himself  especially  with  the  younger 
of  the  two  women,  designated  under  the  name  of 
Sophie,  and  to  take  excellent  care  of  her  health. 

Marie  The'rese  has  herself  written  the  account  of 
her  journey.  At  nine  in  the  morning,  December  19, 
she  breakfasts  at  Guignes.  At  Nogent-on-Seine  she 
is  recognized  by  the  innkeeper's  wife.  She  is  treated 
with  much  respect.  The  street  and  courtyard  are 
thronged  with  people.  They  are  affected  on  seeing 
the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and  load  her  with  bene- 
dictions. She  passes  the  night  at  Gray. 

She  sets  out  again  the  next  morning  and  travels  all 
day  and  all  night  of  December  20-21.  At  nine  in 
the  morning,  December  21,  she  arrives  at  Chaurnont 


THE  JOURNEY   TO    THE  FRONTIER  159 

and  alights  for  breakfast.  There  she  is  recognized, 
and  an  immense  and  sympathetic  crowd  throng  the 
approaches  of  the  room  where  she  takes  her  repast ; 
when  she  re-enters  the  carriage,  everybody  follows 
her  with  good  wishes  and  respectful  homage.  The 
22d,  she  reaches  Vesoul  at  eight  in  the  evening,  hav- 
ing accomplished  only  ten  leagues  during  the  day  for 
lack  of  horses.  She  enters  Belfort  the  23d  at  eleven 
o'clock  in  the  evening  and  sleeps  there.  The  24th, 
she  departs  at  six  in  the  morning,  and  arrives  at 
nightfall  at  Huningue.  There  she  alights  at  the  Cor- 
beau  tavern  and  is  installed  in  the  second  story.  The 
innkeeper,  M.  Schuldz,  knows  who  she  is,  and 
receives  her  with  marks  of  profound  respect. 

The  Directory  had  given  M.  Fran§ois  Hue  permis- 
sion to  rejoin  the  Princess  at  Huningue.  After  the 
10th  of  August,  this  former  officer  of  the  King's  bed- 
chamber had  been  called  by  Louis  XVI.  to  the  honor 
of  remaining  in  attendance  on  him  and  the  royal 
family.  In  the  will  made  in  the  Temple  tower, 
December  25,  1792,  the  unhappy  monarch  had  writ- 
ten: "I  should  think  I  had  calumniated  the  senti- 
ments of  the  nation  if  I  did  not  openly  recommend 
to  my  son  Messieurs  Chamilly  and  Hue,  whose 
genuine  attachment  has  led  them  to  shut  themselves 
up  with  me  in  this  sad  abode,  and  who  have  expected 
to  be  its  unfortunate  victims." 

Fran9ois  Hue,  accompanied  by  Madame  de  Soucy's 
young  son  and  Meunier  and  Baron,  employees  of  the 
Temple,  as  well  as  by  a  chambermaid  and  a  little  dog 


160  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

belonging  to  Marie  The're'se,  had  left  Paris  an  hour 
after  the  young  Princess.  They  reached  Huriingue 
several  hours  later  than  she  did.  "My  pen,"  he 
says,  "  can  but  feebly  express  what  I  felt  when  the 
daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  deigned  to  speak  to  me  for 
the  first  time  since  my  departure  from  the  Temple. 
She  gave  me  at  this  moment  a  letter  she  had  written 
to  the  King,  her  uncle,  ordering  me  to  see  that  it 
reached  His  Majesty.  This  was  not  the  only  time  I 
received  the  same  commission,  and,  on  one  of  these 
occasions,  the  confidence  with  which  Madame  hon- 
ored me  was  so  great  that  she  commanded  me  to 
read  the  letter  with  which  she  had  entrusted  me. 
Who  would  not  preserve  an  eternal  souvenir  of  the 
sentiments  this  Princess  testified  towards  His  Majesty 
when  imploring  his  clemency  in  favor  of  the  French, 
and  even  for  the  murderers  of  her  family  in  these 
expressions :  '  Yes,  uncle,  it  is  she  whose  father, 
mother,  and  aunt  they  have  caused  to  perish,  who  on 
her  knees  begs  from  you  their  pardon  and  peace '  ?  " 

December  25,  the  Courbeau  hotel  was  surrounded 
by  a  crowd  the  whole  day  long.  An  order  to  keep 
the  door  closed  was  issued.  The  Princess  was  re- 
quested not  to  open  her  windows.  She  wrote  a  let- 
ter to  Madame  de  Tourzel,  concerning  which  that 
lady  has  said :  "  Madame  wrote  me  from  Huningue 
before  quitting  France.  I  carefully  treasured  this 
letter  and  that  I  received  from  her  from  Calais, 
when  she  re-entered  France,  as  precious  monuments 
of  her  kindness  and  the  justice  she  never  ceased  to 


THE  JOURNEY-  TO   THE  FRONTIER  161 

render  that  profound  attachment  I  have  vowed  to 
her  until  my  latest  breath."  After  writing  to 
Madame  de  Tourzel,  the  Princess  made  a  sketch  of 
the  room  she  was  occupying.  The  wife  of  the  inn- 
keeper, Madame  Schuldz,  came  up  to  present  her 
two  children,  who  offered  the  Princess  flowers. 

Meanwhile  the  moment  when  the  exchange  was  to 
be  made  was  drawing  nigh.  The  French  prisoners, 
among  whom  were  Drouet,  Beurnonville,  Camus, 
Bancal,  Quinette,  Maret,  and  Se'monville,  had  just 
been  brought  from  Fribourg  to  the  village  of  Riehen, 
chief  town  of  the  bailiwick  of  the  same  name,  belong- 
ing to  the  republic  of  Basel,  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
Rhine.  It  had  been  agreed  that  they  should  not  be 
confronted  with  Marie  Thdrdse,  and  that  the  Princess 
should  be  delivered  to  the  Austrian  government  by 
M.  Bacher,  first  secretary  of  the  Embassy  of  the 
French  Republic  to  Switzerland,  in  a  house  very  near 
Basel,  belonging  to  a  M.  Reber.  The  Prince  of  Gavre 
and  Baron  Degelmann  were  to  receive  her  on  behalf 
of  the  Emperor  of  Austria. 

December  26,  M.  Bacher,  coming  from  Rieheii, 
arrived  at  the  Courbeau  hotel,  Huuingue,  at  about 
half-past  four  in  the  afternoon.  There  he  learned 
that  Marie  There'se  refused  to  accept  the  rich  trous- 
seau which  the  Directory  had  caused  to  be  made 
for  her  in  Paris.  The  republican  diplomat  showed 
great  respect  to  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.,  and 
wrote  to  his  government:  "I  have  just  seen  the 
daughter  of  the  last  King  of  the  French ;  she  mani- 


162  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

fests  the  keenest  regret  at  seeing  herself  on  the  point 
of  quitting  France ;  the  honors  which  await  her  at 
the  court  of  Austria  affect  her  less  than  her  regrets 
at  leaving  her  country."  The  young  Princess  thanked 
M.  Bacher  and  took  leave  of  the  innkeeper  and  his 
family,  who  had  treated  her  with  affectionate  respect. 
She  left  them  some  small  mementoes,  and  said  to 
Madame  Schuldz,  who  was  pregnant :  "  If  you  have 
a  daughter,  I  beg  you  to  let  her  bear  my  name." 
Gomin,  who  was  soon  to  leave  the  august  orphan, 
could  not  avoid  weeping.  To  reward  him  for  his 
devotion,  the  Princess  gave  him  the  following  lines, 
written  by  herself :  "  In  spite  of  my  chagrin,  this 
journey  has  seemed  agreeable  to  me  on  account  of- 
the  presence  of  a  kind-hearted  person  whose  goodness 
has  long  been  known  to  me,  but  who  has  carried  it 
to  the  highest  degree  by  the  manner  in  which  he  has 
behaved,  and  the  active  way  in  which  he  has  served 
me,  although  assuredly  he  could  not  have  been 
accustomed  to  do  so.  It  must  all  be  attributed  to 
his  zeal.  I  have  known  him  for  a  long  time ;  this 
last  proof  was  not  necessary  in  order  to  gain  him 
my  esteem ;  but  he  has  it  more  than  ever  in  these 
final  moments.  I  can  say  no  more;  my  heart  feels 
strongly  all  that  it  ought  to  feel,  but  I  have  no  words 
wherewith  to  express  it.  I  conclude,  however,  by 
conjuring  him  not  to  be  too  much  afflicted  and  to 
take  courage ;  I  do  not  ask  him  to  think  of  me,  I  am 
sure  he  will  do  so,  and  I  answer  for  as  much  on  my 
own  part."  When  giving  this  paper  to  Gomin,  the 


THE  JOUENEY  TO   THE  FRONTIER  168 

young  Princess  said :  "I  do  not  know  whether  I 
shall  be  able  to  speak  to  you  again  at  Basel,  and  I 
want  to  fulfil  my  promise  now.  Adieu  ;  do  not  weep, 
and  above  all  have  confidence  in  God."  The  inn- 
keeper threw  himself  at  her  feet  and  asked  her  bless- 
ing; she  seemed  like  a  saint  to  him.  Then  she 
entered  a  carriage,  and  departed  sorrowfully  from  a 
French  town.  At  the  moment  when  she  crossed 
the  frontier,  some  one  said:  "Madame,  France  ends 
here."  Her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "I  quit  France 
with  regret,"  said  she ;  "  for  I  shall  never  cease  to 
regard  it  as  my  country."  The  exile  had  begun. 


II 


BASEL 

AT  the  moment  when  she  was  delivered  up  to 
Austria,  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  did  not 
suspect  all  the  intrigues  with  which  she  was  already 
surrounded,  and  the  snares  which  were  to  be  spread 
for  her  feet.  The  Austrian  government  was  not  act- 
ing as  a  liberator.  It  wanted  to  make  a  hostage  of 
the  young  Princess,  an  instrument  of  its  policy  and 
its  ambitions.  Louis  XVIII.  had  much  reason  to 
complain  of  the  Austrian  court  at  this  period.  As 
head  of  the  House  of  France,  and  as  uncle  of  Marie 
The'rSse,  he  was  perfectly  entitled  to  demand  that 
his  niece  should  join  him  at  Verona,  in  accordance 
with  her  own  desire,  instead  of  being  kept  at  Vienna, 
where  her  presence  could  only  be  explained  by  the 
ambitious  designs  of  Austria.  As  has  been  said,  this 
power  had  the  intention  of  marrying  her  to  an  Arch- 
duke and  profiting  by  this  marriage  to  reclaim  cer- 
tain portions  of  French  territory.  Several  weeks 
earlier,  Louis  XVIII.  had  sent  the  Count  of  Avaray 
to  Switzerland  to  meet  the  young  Princess,  whose 
liberation  was  expected  from  one  day  to  another. 
Having  learned  that  she  was  to  pass  through  Inns- 
164 


BASEL  165 

pruck,  M.  d'Avaray  repaired  to  that  town,  where  he 
was  at  first  well  received  by  the  Austrian  authorities. 
But  while  thus  allowed  to  hope  for  the  complete  suc- 
cess of  his  mission,  a  courier  was  despatched  to 
Vienna  to  inform  the  Emperor  that  the  envoy  of 
Louis  XVIII.  proposed  to  conduct  the  Princess  to 
Verona.  Orders  were  at  once  transmitted  to  the 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Gavre,  who  had  been  com- 
missioned to  receive  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  at 
Basel,  that  no  one  should  see  the  young  Princess 
while  on  the  road.  M.  d'Avaray  was  obliged  to  leave 
Innspruck  and  return  to  Verona.  At  the  same  time, 
Thugut,  the  Austrian  Prime  Minister,  who  was 
always  very  hostile  to  France,  said  to  the  Duchess  of 
Gramont,  who  was  impatient  for  Marie  The'rese's 
arrival  at  Vienna,  that  possibly  the  young  Princess 
would  receive  no  French  persons.  Such  were  the 
sentiments  of  the  government  which,  while  ostensi- 
bly offering  an  asylum  to  the  orphan  of  the  Temple, 
was  really  preparing  for  her  a  new  captivity  compli- 
cated by  exile. 

Marie  The're'se  left  Huningue  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  December  26,  1795,  to  proceed  to 
Basel.  She  was  in  the  same  carriage  as  Madame 
de  Soucy.  M.  Bacher,  first  secretary  of  the  Embassy 
of  the  French  Republic  in  Switzerland,  Me*chain  the 
officer  of  gendarmes,  Frai^ois  Hue,  Gomin,  Baron, 
and  a  lady's  maid  followed  in  another  carriage.  The 
neutrality  of  the  Helvetic  cantons,  and  their  inter- 
mediate position  between  France  and  the  Austrian 


166  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

dominions,  naturally  pointed  them  out  as  the  spot 
where  the  exchange  of  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI. 
against  certain  French  prisoners  detained  by  Austria 
should  take  place.  It  had  been  arranged  that  the 
delivery  of  the  Princess  to  the  Austrian  authorities 
should  be  effected  at  a  country  house  belonging  to 
a  rich  merchant  named  Reber,  close  to  Basel,  and 
very  near  the  Saint  Jean  gate.  The  Prince  of 
Gavre  and  Baron  Degelmann,  Austrian  Minister  in 
Switzerland,  had  already  arrived  with  six  carriages 
when  Marie  The'rese  entered  the  gate.  The  Prince 
of  Gavre  addressed  her  a  compliment,  to  which  she 
responded  graciously,  and  then  he  handed  to  M. 
Bacher,  secretary  of  the  French  Embassy  in  Switzer- 
land, an  act  thus  worded:  "I,  the  undersigned,  in 
virtue  of  the  orders  of  His  Majesty  the  Emperor, 
declare  that  I  have  received  from  M.  Bacher,  the 
French  commissioner  delegated  for  this  purpose,  the 
Princess  Marie  The're'se,  daughter  of  Louis  XVI." 
Provided  with  this  act,  the  republican  diplomat 
repaired  instantly  to  Riehen  to  deliver  the  French 
prisoners  exchanged  against  Madame  Royale  without 
being  confronted  with  her.  M.-  Hue  then  asked 
permission  to  speak  with  the  Princess.  "I  have 
been  commissioned,"  said  he,  "by  the  Minister  of 
the  Interior,  to  deliver  to  Madame  on  the  neutral 
territory  of  Basel,  two  trunks  containing  a  trousseau 
intended  for  Her  Royal  Highness.  Does  Madame 
wish  me  to  open  them  ?  "  "  No,"  replied  the  Prin- 
cess; "return  them  to  my  conductors  (MM.  Me*- 


BASEL  167 

chain  and  Gomin),  begging  them  to  thank  M.  Bene- 
zech  in  my  name.  I  am  sensible  of  his  attention, 
but  I  cannot  accept  his  offers." 

Marie  The"rese  then  bowed  to  Baron  Degelmann, 
bade  adieu  to  Me'chain  and  Gomin,  and  with  Ma- 
dame de  Soucy  and  the  Prince  of  Gavre,  entered 
an  imperial  carriage  drawn  by  six  horses,  which, 
followed  by  five  other  carriages  drove  into  Basel 
through  the  Saint  Jean  gate.  It  was  about  seven 
in  the  evening,  and  the  moon  was  shining  brightly 
in  a  clear  sky.  An  officer  of  the  Swiss  army,  Adju- 
tant Kolb,  rode  beside  the  carriage  of  the  Princess. 
As  they  left  Basel,  he  took  command  of  a  detach- 
ment of  Swiss  cavalry  which  was  to  escort  them  as 
far  as  the  frontier.  During  the  night  Marie  The'rSse 
arrived  at  Laufenburg,  a  town,  seven  leagues  from 
Basel,  where  the  suite  appointed  for  her  by  the  Em- 
peror was  awaiting  her. 

Laufenburg  is  one  of  the  four  "  forest  towns "  of 
Upper  Austria.  This  name  is  given  to  four  German 
towns  situated  on  the  Rhine  above  Basel,  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  Black  Forest:  Rheinfel,  Waldshut, 
Seckingen,  and  Laufenburg.  In  the  morning,  the 
daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  entered  a  church  for  the 
first  time  since  August,  1792,  and  prayed  God  not 
only  for  her  family,  but  for  their  persecutors  and 
executioners.  Having  found  at  Laufenburg  the 
women  the  Emperor  had  sent  to  attend  upon  her, 
she  continued  her  route  toward  the  Tyrol.  On  the 
way  she  passed  a  place  where  a  part  of  Conde"s 


168  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

army  were  quartered  for  the  time  being.  An  officer 
of  this  army,  the  Count  of  Romain,  has  written  in 
his  Souvenirs  cTun  officier  royaliste :  "  We  were  in 
our  winter  quarters  when  we  learned  of  the  happy 
deliverance  of  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  This 
Princess,  whose  safety  had  so  long  been  the  dearest 
object  of  our  wishes,  passed  through  our  quarters 
without  our  being  able  to  enjoy  the  happiness  of 
seeing  her.  This  caused  much  bitter  feeling."  How- 
ever, M.  Berthier,  an  aide-de-camp  of  the  Prince  of 
Conde*,  accidentally  encountered  Marie  The're'se  on 
the  highroad,  and  notwithstanding  the  injunction 
to  keep  out  of  her  sight  anything  that  might  remind 
her  of  France,  the  Prince  of  Gavre  permitted  this 
officer,  who  was  in  uniform,  to  approach  the  car- 
riage. The  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  transmitted 
through  him  the  kindest  expressions  of  good  will 
to  the  Prince  of  Condd  and  his  companions  in  arms. 
In  the  Tyrol  she  stayed  two  days  at  Innspruck,  at 
the  castle  of  her  aunt,  the  Archduchess  Elisabeth, 
and  arrived  at  Vienna,  January  9,  1796. 

The  young  Princess  had  not  been  without  anxiety 
during  her  journey.  "  Why  do  they  give  me  no 
news  from  Verona  ?  "  she  reflected.  "  Why  do  they 
not  let  me  go  there  to  rejoin  my  uncle  and  my  King? 
Is  not  my  place  at  his  side  ?  What  does  the  House 
of  Austria,  so  often  at  strife  with  the  House  of 
France,  propose  to  do  with  me  at  Vienna?  They 
treat  me  with  great  respect,  they  observe  a  princely 
etiquette  toward  me,  they  place  imperial  carriages 


BASEL  169 

with  six  horses  at  my  disposal.  But  would  I  not 
prefer  to  all  this  idle  ceremony  liberty  and  the  right 
to  go  to  my  uncle  ?  The  asylum  prepared  for  me  by 
Austria  will  doubtless  be  a  gilded  prison,  but  it  will 
be  a  prison  none  the  less." 


m 

VIENNA 

Emperor  Francis  II.,  born  February  12, 
_1_  1768,  was  nearly  twenty-eight  years  old  when 
the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  arrived  in  Vienna.  On 
March  1,  1792,  he  had  succeeded  his  father,  the  Em- 
peror Leopold,  son  of  the  great  Empress  Maria  The- 
resa, and  brother  of  Queen  Marie  Antoinette.  In 
1790,  he  married  Marie  The'rese  of  Naples,  born  in 
1772,  the  daughter  of  Ferdinand  IV.,  King  of  the 
Two  Sicilies,  and  Marie  Caroline,  daughter  of  Marie 
Theresa  and  sister  of  Marie  Antoinette.  Marie  The"- 
r^se  of  France,  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and 
Marie  Antoinette,  was  therefore,  the  cousin-german 
not  only  of  the  Emperor  Francis  II.,  but  also  of  the 
Empress  Marie  The'rese  of  Naples. 

On  the  day  of  her  arrival  in  Vienna,  the  young 
Princess  was  received  by  a  high  official  of  the  Empe- 
ror and  conducted  to  one  of  the  finest  apartments  of 
the  imperial  palace,  which  had  been  assigned  her. 
There  she  received  a  visit  from  the  Emperor  and 
Empress,  who  gave  her  a  cordial  welcome.  After 
some  weeks  of  repose  and  meditation  she  made  her 
appearance  at  court.  She  had  put  on  mourning,  not 
170 


VIENNA  171 

having  been  allowed  to  do  so  in  the  Temple.  The 
Emperor  gave  her  an  establishment  like  that  of  the 
archduchesses.  The  Prince  of  Gavre  was  appointed 
grand-master  of  the  household,  and  the  Countess  of 
Chanclos  grand-mistress.  At  this  period  the  Emperor 
Francis  II.  had  only  two  children,  —  the  Archduchess 
Marie  Louise,  who  had  just  passed  her  fourth  birth- 
day, as  she  was  born  December  12,  1791 ;  and  the 
Prince-imperial,  Archduke  Ferdinand,  born  in  1793. 
The  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  became  attached  to  the 
little  Archduchess,  who  was  one  day  to  be  the  Em- 
press of  the  French,  and  during  the  three  years  she 
spent  at  Vienna  she  devoted  much  attention  to  this 
child,  for  whom  was  reserved  a  destiny  so  extraordi- 
nary. Marie  Louise  was  only  seven  when  the  orphan 
of  the  Temple  left  Vienna,  but  she  remembered 
always  that  she  had  seen  the  daughter  of  the  mar- 
tyred King  and  Queen.  When  conversing  with  the 
plenipotentiaries  of  Charles  X.  in  her  little  court  at 
Parma,  she  recalled  this  souvenir  which  had  left 
a  profound  impression  on  her  youthful  mind. 

From  the  time  when  Marie  The're'se  arrived  in 
Vienna  she  inspired  an  interest  bordering  on  venera- 
tion in  all  classes  of  Austrian  society,  and  especially 
in  the  refugee  French  royalists,  by  her  youth  so  full 
of  trials  and  disasters,  the  precocious  yet  majestic 
gravity  that  characterized  the  pleasing  melancholy  of 
her  countenance,  and  the  touching  beauty  to  which 
grief  had  imparted  a  nameless  sanctity.  As  has  been 
said  by  M.  Fourneron,  the  author  of  a  remarkable 


172  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

Histoire  g£n6rale  des  EmigrSs  pendant  la  Revolution 
franpaise,  "it  was  a  joy  which  thrilled  the  SmigrSs, 
shivering  in  their  chilly  rooms.  This  grave  and 
coldly  beautiful  young  girl,  who  had  known  all  gran- 
deur and  all  wretchedness,  and  who,  the  sole  survivor 
of  a  once  most  happy  family,  represented  the  excess 
of  human  anguish,  this  pale  Christmas  rose  blossomed 
at  last  amongst  them." 

Yet,  in  spite  of  the  sympathies  she  aroused,  Marie 
The*r&se  experienced  many  difficulties  and  annoy- 
ances in  Vienna.  First  came  the  removal  of  the 
Marchioness  de  Soucy,  her  travelling  companion, 
whose  society  she  had  found  agreeable,  and  for  whom 
she  had  a  great  affection.  The  young  Princess  vainly 
expressed  her  desire  to  retain  this  lady,  who,  like  her 
mother,  the  venerable  Madame  de  Mackau,  formerly 
assistant  governess  of  the  children  of  France,  had 
always  shown  the  profoundest  devotion  to  the  royal 
family.  Madame  de  Soucy,  having  obtained  a  pri- 
vate audience  with  the  Emperor,  was  alike  unsuc- 
cessful in  preferring  this  suit.  "My  cousin  is 
strongly  attached  to  your  mother,"  said  the  sov- 
ereign; "and  she  has  not  left  me  in  ignorance  of 
your  own  devotion  to  her  person.  I  am  sorry  to 
separate  you,  but  the  state  of  war  between  the  two 
countries  necessitates  this  measure."  Perceiving  that 
the  Marchioness  had  a  paper  in  her  hand,  he  added : 
"  Is  that  paper  for  me,  Madame  ?  "  "  No,  Sire,"  she 
answered,  weeping ;  "  it  is  my  farewell  letter  to  the 
Princess."  "Entrust  it  to  me,  Madame,"  replied 


VIENNA  173 

Francis  II.  "I  will  remit  it  to  my  cousin."  The 
rigidity  of  German  etiquette  required  that  it  should 
pass  through  the  hands  of  the  Countess  of  Chanclos, 
Marie  The're'se's  grand-mistress  of  the  household. 
The  Princess,  not  being  permitted  to  see  Madame 
de  Soucy,  was  obliged  to  content  herself  with  writ- 
ing the  following  letter :  "  I  have  received  your  let- 
ter, Madame,  through  Madame  de  Chanclos ;  I  was 
much  affected  by  it.  I  will  speak  to  the  Emperor 
about  you :  he  is  good ;  but  you  know  I  feared  that 
the  state  of  war  between  the  two  nations  would 
separate  us.  The  same  thing  has  happened  to  all 
the  rest  of  the  French.  I  beg  you  to  console  that 
faithful  servant  of  my  father,  M.  Hue  ;  I  am  sure  the 
Emperor  will  not  abandon  him.  I  am  sure  of  your 
courage  also.  I  will  pray  for  your  successful  jour- 
ney. Say  everything  that  is  kind  for  me  to  your 
mother.  I  thank  you  for  the  sacrifice  you  made  in 
leaving  your  country  and  your  family  to  follow  me, 
and  I  shall  never  forget  it.  Adieu !  rely  always  on 
the  affection  of  Marie  The"re"se  Charlotte." 

An  exception  was  made  in  the  case  of  Francis 
Hue,  and  he  was  authorized  to  remain  in  Vienna, 
where  he  was  considered  as  an  £migr£.  But  Meunier 
the  cook  and  the  waiter  Baron,  two  employees  of  the 
Temple  who  had  made  the  journey  with  him,  were 
sent  back  to  France,  January  20,  1796.  Madame  de 
Soucy,  her  son,  and  her  lady's  maid  left  Vienna  Jan- 
uary 23. 

The  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  was  not  free.     After 


174  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

having  been  the  prisoner  of  the  French  Republic,  she 
was  now  that  of  Austria.  As  if  it  were  not  enough 
for  this  girl  of  barely  seventeen  to  have  endured  the 
most  horrible  captivity  in  the  Temple  dungeon  for 
three  years  and  a  half,  she  was  again  surrounded  by 
snares  of  every  description.  Her  pretended  liber- 
ators were  not  in  reality  her  friends.  She  was 
sequestrated  in  the  imperial  palace  at  Vienna  as  a 
sort  of  hostage,  and  they  sought  to  make  her  re- 
nounce her  country  and  her  family  in  order  to  con- 
vert her  into  an  instrument  of  Austrian  intrigues 
and  ambitions.  But  the  august  orphan  did  not  per- 
mit herself  to  be  misled  by  their  brilliant  offers.  She 
would  accept  neither  the  coronet  of  an  archduchess 
nor  the  diadem  of  a  queen.  The  husband  selected 
for  her  by  her  father  and  mother  before  they  died 
was  the  only  one  to  whom  she  was  willing  to  yield 
her  heart ;  she  preferred  exile  and  poverty  with  him 
to  a  throne  with  any  other. 

This  apparently  frail  young  girl  already  possessed 
an  indomitable  moral  force.  Misfortune  had  given 
her  a  precocious  experience  which  kept  her  on  her 
guard  against  threats  and  flattery  alike.  She  re- 
mained more  than  three  years  in  Vienna  without 
deviating  from  the  line  of  conduct  she  had  marked 
out  for  herself.  Her  modesty,  her  gentleness,  and 
firmness  commanded  the  respect  of  all.  Beholding 
her,  people  felt  themselves  in  the  presence  of  a  supe- 
rior nature,  a  veritable  Christian,  a  young  girl  who 
.already  possessed  the  virtues  of  the  valiant  woman 


VIENNA  175 

of  Scripture.  The  Austrian  government  deceived 
itself  in  supposing  that  by  banishing  Frenchmen 
from  the  Princess  they  could  make  her  forget  France. 
This  heroine  of  duty  who,  like  her  father,  her  mother, 
and  her  aunt,  had  pardoned  her  persecutors  and 
prayed  for  her  tormentors,  was  all  the  more  attached 
to  her  country  because  of  what  she  had  suffered 
there.  In  Austria  she  pined  for  France,  where,  never- 
theless, she  had  been  so  ill-treated  and  unhappy. 
From  the  depths  of  her  heart  she  longed  that  the 
nation  she  had  so  much  cause  to  complain  of  might 
prosper  and  be  glorious,  and  she  never  mentioned 
it  but  with  affectionate  emotion.  Never  did  a  harsh, 
severe,  or  recriminating  word  pass  her  lips.  The  Gos- 
pel had  taught  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie 
Antoinette  to  forgive  injuries. 

An  excellent  work  by  a  promising  historian,  M. 
Alfred  Lebon,  gives  some  curious  information  con- 
cerning this  period  in  the  life  of  Marie  The'rdse.  It 
is  entitled :  L* Angleterre  et  T Emigration  frangaise. 
The  author  has  had  access  to  the  correspondence  of 
Wickharn  and  Lord  Macartney  with  the  British  gov- 
ernment. Wickham  was  an  English  agent  whom 
the  Cabinet  of  London  had  sent  to  Switzerland,  that 
rendezvous  of  intriguers,  diplomatists,  and  conspira- 
tors, to  arrange  the  preliminaries  of  a  Bourbon  res- 
toration which,  having  been  accomplished  under  the 
auspices  of  England,  would  have  assured  that  coun- 
try a  peace  conformable  to  its  desires.  Lord  Mac- 
artney had  been  accredited  to  Louis  XVIII.  by  the 


176  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

English  government,  and  had  arrived  at  Verona, 
August  6,  1795,  a  few  days  after  the  appearance  of 
the  manifesto  in  which  the  exiled  Pretender  notified 
France  and  Europe  of  his  royal  intentions. 

In  a  despatch  dated  January  31,  1796,  Lord  Mac- 
artney thus  expressed  the  sentiments  of  the  French 
royalists  of  Verona  in  regard  to  Austria :  "  Although 
greatly  irritated  by  the  way  in  which  the  Prince  of 
Conde"  has  been  treated  and  the  resulting  disappoint- 
ments to  the  insurrection  in  the  southwest,  they 
seem  still  more  exasperated  by  the  mean  policy  of 
the  court  of  Vienna  and  the  manner  in  which  it 
has  monopolized  Madame  Royale,  who,  as  they  say, 
was  smuggled  away  from  her  family  by  a  contra- 
band trade  with  the  French  Republic ;  for  they 
express  their  firm  conviction  that  none  other  of  the 
powers  in  coalition  could  have  taken  any  part  in  the 
transaction  or  known  anything  about  it.  Sir  Mor- 
ton Eden  has  probably  informed  Your  Lordships 
that  Madame  de  Soucy  was  separated  from  the 
Princess  soon  after  her  arrival  in  Vienna,  and  that 
she  is  not  permitted  to  have  any  French  attendants. 
The  Bishop  of  Nancy,  who  is  now  the  King's  chargS 
d'affaires  in  that  city,  has  not  yet  been  authorized 
to  see  her.  Nevertheless,  means  were  found  before 
she  left  Paris  to  acquaint  her  with  her  uncle's  sen- 
timents and  his  desire  that  she  should  avoid  binding 
herself  by  any  engagement,  so  as  to  be  free  to  marry 
her  cousin,  the  Duke  of  Angouleme.  At  the  same 
time  she  learned  that  it  was  the  Emperor's  intention 


VIENNA  177 

to  give  her  to  one  of  his  brothers ;  hence  she  is  com- 
pletely on  her  guard  so  far  as  relates  to  the  conduct 
she  should  observe  at  Vienna." 

Louis  XVIII.  could  not  congratulate  himself  on 
the  sentiments  of  the  Austrian  court.  There  was 
a  long-standing  rivalry  between  the  Hapsburgs  and 
the  Bourbons  which  the  misfortunes  of  Louis  XVI. 
and  Marie  Antoinette  had  not  obliterated.  The 
Vienna  Cabinet  was  presided  over  by  a  man  who 
loved  neither  monarchical  nor  republican  France. 
Baron  Thugut,  who  was  almost  as  hostile  to  the 
Emigres  as  to  the  Jacobins,  considered  them  frivo- 
lous and  superficial,  arid  sometimes  arrogant,  in  spite 
of  the  lessons  of  adversity.  He  found  fault  with 
their  boasting,  their  illusions  and  fruitless  disturb- 
ances, and  thought  that  a  royalist  restoration  would 
in  reality  afford  few  guarantees  to  Austria.  What 
he  would  have  liked  was  a  dismemberment  of  France 
and  to  see  it  treated  like  a  second  Poland  by  the 
Powers.  It  is  said  that  this  anti-French  Minister 
thought  of  forcing  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI. 
and  Marie  Antoinette  to  become  a  party  to  his 
Machiavellian  schemes.  His  only  object  in  marry- 
ing her  to  an  Archduke,  either  Charles  or  Joseph, 
was  to  use  the  marriage  for  the  benefit  of  Aus- 
tria. It  is  even  insinuated  that  he  did  not  recoil 
from  the  idea  of  dispossessing  Louis  XVIII.  and 
transforming  the  Archduke  who  should  become  the 
husband  of  Madame  Royale  into  a  candidate  for  the 
throne  of  France.  As  a  Bourbon  and  a  possible 


178  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANOOULEME 

competitor  for  the  rights  of  this  future  royalty,  the 
King  of  Spain  was  sounded  by  the  Vienna  Cabinet 
on  the  subject  of  this  combination.  The  Duke  of 
Havre*,  who  had  remained  the  representative  of 
Louis  XVIII.  at  Madrid  in  spite  of  the  peace  con- 
cluded between  the  French  Republic  and  Spain, 
wrote  to  the  Baron  of  Flachslanden,  April  5,  1796 : 
"  This  is  very  disquieting.  Do  you  not  see  a  plan 
of  dismemberment,  and  a  movement  to  bring  it  about 
safely  by  means  of  a  marriage  which  would  give,  if 
not  a  title,  at  least  a  pretext  for  reclaiming  in  the 
name  of  the  Princess,  as  her  inheritance,  the  owner- 
ship of  the  conquered  or  donated  provinces  which 
have  not  formally  recognized  the  Salic  law?  Is  it 
not  even  possible  that  they  would  carry  their  plans 
so  far  as  to  invest  Madame  with  the  throne  of 
France?"  Such,  it  seems,  was  the  ulterior  aim  of 
Austria,  and  it  is  claimed  that  Thugut  had  secret 
emissaries  in  Parisian  cafe's  who  drank  to  the  health 
of  Louis  XVI.'s  daughter  as  Queen  of  France  and 
Navarre. 

If  this  combination  should  not  succeed,  the  Aus- 
trian Minister  hoped  at  least  for  some  sort  of  dis- 
memberment. The  Salic  law,  applicable  to  the 
Kingdom  of  France,  had  not  formerly  been  so  to  the 
Kingdom  of  Navarre.  True,  Louis  XIII.  had  issued 
an  edict  declaring  Navarre  an  integral  part  of  France. 
But  Austria,  none  the  less,  hoped  to  press  success- 
fully Madame  Royale's  pretended  rights,  as  sole 
daughter  of  France,  over  this  portion  of  French 


VIENNA  179 

territory,  contenting  itself,  if  needful,  with  some 
other  piece  of  the  same  territory. 

Marie  The're'se,  whose  sole  ambition  was  to  do  what 
was  right,  indignantly  rejected  all  combinations  of 
the  sort.  The  more  unfortunate  was  her  family,  the 
more  was  she  minded  to  cling  to  it,  and  what  pleased 
her  most  in  her  projected  union  with  the  Duke  of 
AngoulSme  was  that  it  would  allow  her  to  remain  a 
Frenchwoman. 

Mgr.  Lafare,  Bishop  of  Nancy,  who  had  replaced 
the  Count  of  Saint-Priest  as  Louis  XVIII.'s  chargg 
d'affaires  at  Vienna,  perceived  clearly  that  Austria, 
even  while  pretending  interest  in  the  French  6migr£s, 
in  nowise  desired  a  Bourbon  restoration  in  France. 
The  Pretender  wrote  thus  to  the  bishop :  "  I  am  revolted 
by  M.  de  Thugut's  duplicity.  When  the  weak  resort 
to  deception,  it  is  in  a  manner  excusable ;  but  when 
the  powerful  do  so,  one  hardly  knows  whether  the 
horror  or  the  contempt  they  excite  is  greatest.  For 
my  part,  I  feel  both." 

Marie  The're'se  was  equally  offended  by  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  Austrian  court.  August  31,  1797, 
Louis  XVIII.  wrote  to  the  Count  of  Saint-Priest: 
"I  think  my  niece  does  not  like  being  at  Vienna. 
So  I  am  advised  by  the  Bishop  of  Nancy,  and,  more- 
over, she  speaks  in  nearly  all  her  letters  of  her  desire 
to  be  with  me.  Whether  it  is  to  be  attributed  to  her 
discontent  with  the  place  where  she  is,  or  whether 
the  really  pleasing  letters  of  my  nephew  have  made 
an  impression  on  her  heart,  at  all  events  she  has 


180  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

written  one  to  him  which  so  far  as  I  can  remember 
my  own  youth  would  have  turned  my  head  at 
twenty-two ;  so  much  the  more  reason  for  striking 
the  iron  while  it  is  hot." 

In  September,  1796,  the  young  Duke  of  Angou- 
l£me  had  written  to  his  betrothed :  "  The  sentiments 
which  my  dearest  cousin  has  engraven  on  my  heart 
are  at  once  my  happiness  and  my  torment.  The 
delays  which  retard  the  hopes  that  incessantly 
occupy  me,  fill  me  with  the  keenest  pain.  It  seems 
to  me  as  if  I  were  being  deprived  of  days  all  of  which 
I  long  to  devote  to  your  happiness."  The  Prince 
had  vainly  sought  an  authorization  from  the  Austrian 
court  to  repair  to  Vienna.  In  spite  of  the  pressing 
and  repeated  invitations  of  his  betrothed,  he  had  not 
even  been  able  to  go  there  secretly. 

Mgr.  Lafare  wrote  to  Louis  XVIII.,  August  29, 
1798:  "Madame  The're'se  is  not  cordial  with  the 
Empress  since  her  arrival.  It  is  a  part  of  my  duty, 
Sire,  to  apprise  you  that  Madame  is  very  decided  in 
character,  very  thoughtful,  and  very  much  attached 
to  the  determinations  she  has  thought  best  to  take. 
She  has  settled  ideas  concerning  several  persons ;  she 
will  never  like  any  but  those  of  whom  she  has  a 
favorable  opinion."  And  again,  on  December  30,  of 
the  same  year :  "  Madame  The'rese  takes  a  very 
gloomy  view  of  everything.  I  have  tried  to  lessen 
Madame's  distrust  of  the  future  and  reanimate  her 
hopes.  I  communicate  the  favorable  details  I  receive 
from  France,  and  these  communications  light  up, 


VIENNA  181 

momentarily  at  least,  the  sombre  tints  of  her  hor- 
izon." 

As  M.  Fourneron  very  acutely  remarks,  "  this  mel- 
ancholy indicates  a  surer  judgment  and  a  more  cor- 
rect appreciation  of  things  on  the  part  of  the  young 
girl  than  on  that  of  the  bishop  and  the  majority  of 
the  SmigrSs.  Nor  did  her  good  sense  deceive  her  as 
to  the  estimate  to  be  placed  on  persons." 

Louis  XVIII.  continued  to  complain  of  Austria. 
The  Countess  of  Artois  having  asked  to  be  allowed  to 
spend  a  few  days  with  Marie  The're'se,  and  having  been 
refused,  the  Pretender  wrote  to  the  Count  of  Saint- 
Priest  :  "  The  response  of  Vienna  to  my  sister-in-law's 
request  to  pay  a  short  visit  to  her  niece,  her  future 
daughter-in-law,  is  utterly  barbarous." 

It  was  useless  for  Louis  XVIII.  to  demand  his  niece. 
And  as  the  Bishop  of  Nancy,  his  chargS  d'affaires  at 
Vienna,  was  also  unsuccessful  in  his  efforts,  he  sent 
the  Count  of  Saint-Priest  back  to  that  city,  and  on 
June  2,  1798,  gave  him  the  following  instructions, 
the  Count  being  still  in  Russia :  "  The  marriage  of 
my  nephew,  the  Duke  of  Angouleme,  with  Madame 
The*rese,  my  niece,  has  always  been  one  of  my  fond- 
est desires :  but  until  now  I  have  not  been  able  to 
accomplish  this  union,  not  because  the  court  of 
Vienna  formally  opposes  it,  but  because  I  have  had 
no  settled  abode.  The  Emperor  Paul  has  removed 
this  obstacle  by  giving  me  an  asylum  at  Mittau. 
However,  his  further  support  is  very  necessary  for 
me,  because,  although  I  have  just  said  that  the  court 


182  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

of  Vienna  does  not  formally  oppose  the  marriage, 
still,  I  am  not  certain  that  they  would  deliver  up  my 
niece  upon  my  unsupported  demand.  I  therefore 
commission  M.  de  Saint-Priest  to  influence  the  sensi- 
tive heart  of  His  Imperial  Majesty  in  favor  of  so 
touching  a  union,  and  to  induce  him  to  make  the 
affair  his  own.  Then  I  should  have  no  further 
trouble  from  Vienna,  and  should  feel  certain  that  the 
Emperor  Francis  would  raise  no  more  difficulties." 
Louis  XVIII.  was  obliged,  therefore,  to  implore  the 
Czar's  intervention  to  put  an  end  to  the  ill-will  and 
the  refusals  of  the  Austrian  Emperor.  Through  mere 
pertinacity  he  ended  by  obtaining  the  deliverance  of 
the  young  Princess,  thanks  to  the  pressing  instances 
of  M.  de  Saint-Priest.  She  quitted  Vienna,  May  3, 
1799,  taking  with  her  no  kindly  souvenirs  of  the 
forced  hospitality  she  had  received  there  since  Janu- 
ary 9,  1796,  and  went  to  rejoin  her  uncle,  Louis 
XVIII.,  at  Mittau. 


IV 

LOUIS   XVIII 

MARIE;  THERESE  of  France  was  about  to  be- 
come the  household  guest  of  her  uncle,  Louis 
XVIII.,  and  to  live  in  the  society  of  the  SmigrSs. 
Before  relating  the  story  of  the  arrival  of  the  young 
Princess  at  Courland,  we  shall  say  a  few  words  con- 
cerning the  Pretender  and  the  emigration. 

On  the  death  of  the  young  Louis  XVII.,  the  Count 
of  Provence,  the  brother  of  Louis  XVI.  and  of  the 
Count  of  Artois  (the  future  Charles  X.),  had  taken 
the  title  of  King  and  the  name  of  Louis  XVIII. 
Born  at  Versailles,  October  17,  1755,  his  father  was 
the  grand-dauphin,  the  son  of  Louis  XV.,  and  his 
mother  was  Marie  Josephine  of  Saxony.  He  married 
Marie  Josephine  Louise  of  Savoy,  daughter  of  Victor 
Amadeus  III.,  King  of  Sardinia,  May  14,  1771,  and 
never  had  a  child.  In  the  last  years  of  the  old  regime 
he  passed  for  a  wit,  was  very  proud  of  his  erudition, 
a  great  lover  of  Latin  poetry,  quoting  Horace  at 
every  turn,  loving  power  as  much  as  the  King,  his 
brother,  disliked  it,  clever,  calculating  every  step  and 
every  word,  a  diplomatic  prince,  on  good  terms  with 
the  philosophers,  a  courtier  of  public  opinion,  boast- 

183 


184  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

ing  of  his  precocious  experience,  and  believing  him- 
self destined  to  play  a  great  part. 

His  wife,  who  was  rather  insignificant  in  appear- 
ance but  did  not  lack  intelligence,  had  no  influence 
at  court.  From  1780,  one  of  her  maids  of  honor,  a 
certain  Countess  of  Balbi,  became  the  favorite  of  the 
Count  of  Provence,  but  without  giving  real  cause  for 
scandal.  This  lady,  the  daughter  of  one  Caumont- 
Laforce  and  a  Mademoiselle  Galard,  of  Beam,  was 
the  wife  of  the  Count  of  Balbi,  a  noble  Genoese,  colo- 
nel of  the  Bourbon  regiment  and  the  possessor  of  a 
large  fortune.  She  was  more  intellectual  than  beau- 
tiful, but  being  ambitious  and  intriguing,  her  glowing 
eyes,  her  extreme  cleverness,  her  maliciously  brilliant 
conversation,  and  her  inexhaustible  gaiety  long  enabled 
her  to  exercise  considerable  influence  over  the  Count 
of  Provence. 

The  Prince  had  remained  with  the  royal  family 
until  June  20,  1791,  the  day  when  they  left  the 
Tuileries  to  begin  the  fatal  journey  to  Varennes. 
He  quitted  the  Luxembourg  palace  at  the  same  time, 
having  been  ordered  by  his  brother  to  rejoin  him  at 
Montme'dy,  by  way  of  Longwy  and  the  Low  Coun- 
tries. But,  more  prudent  than  Louis  XVI.,  whose 
mistake  had  been  to  awaken  suspicion  by  taking  too 
many  persons  with  him,  he  not  merely  observed  the 
precaution  of  not  travelling  in  the  same  carriage  with 
his  wife,  but  did  not  even  go  by  the  same  road. 
Having  no  companion  but  the  Count  of  Avaray, 
whom  he  afterwards  considered  as  his  preserver  and 


LOUIS  XVIII  185 


who  became  his  favorite,  he  was  not  recognized 
during  his  flight;  and  while  his  brother's  journey 
resulted  so  disastrously,  his  own  was  a  complete 
success. 

The  Count  of  Provence  went  to  Germany  in  the 
early  days  of  the  emigration,  and  installed  himself 
very  near  Coblentz  in  a  castle  placed  at  his  disposal 
by  his  maternal  uncle,  the  Elector  of  Treves,  Clement 
Wenceslas  of  Saxony.  There  he  entered  into  rela- 
tions with  the  Prince  of  Conde'  and  organized  a  mili- 
tant policy.  There,  also,  he  quarrelled  with  the 
Countess  of  Balbi,  who  committed  imprudences  in 
which  Archambaud  of  Pe'rigord,  brother  of  the 
future  Prince  Talleyrand,  was  concerned.  If  one 
may  believe  what  the  Duchess  of  Abrant£s  says 
about  it  in  her  Memoirs,  the  Count  of  Provence 
wrote  at  this  time  to  his  favorite :  "  Caesar's  wife 
should  not  even  be  suspected,"  and  she  maliciously 
replied:  "You  are  not  Caesar,  and  you  know  very 
well  that  I  have  never  been  your  wife." 

The  Count  of  Provence  afterwards  sought  shelter 
from  the  King  of  Prussia,  who  permitted  him  to 
occupy  the  castle  of  Hamm,  a  little  town  on  the 
Lippe,  in  Westphalia,  near  Diisseldorff.  There  he 
heard  of  the  death  of  Louis  XVI.,  declared  himself 
Regent  of  France,  and  formed  a  ministry.  Before 
the  close  of  1793,  he  left  Westphalia  to  rejoin  the 
Countess  of  Artois  at  Turin,  where  she  had  taken 
refuge  near  her  father,  Victor  Amadeus  III.,  King  of 
Sardinia.  But  as  this  Prince  did  not  care  about 


186  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

keeping  so  compromising  a  guest  at  court,  he  was 
obliged  to  accept  the  asylum  offered  him  at  Verona 
by  the  Republic  of  Venice.  There  he  established 
himself  in  the  character  of  a  nobleman  inscribed  on 
the  golden  book  of  the  Republic  and  was  well  received. 
There,  too,  he  was  apprised  of  the  death  of  Louis 
XVII.,  and  from  that  time  was  recognized  as  the  King 
of  France  and  Navarre  by  all  the  SmigrSs,  and  never 
called  by  any  name  but  Louis  XVIII. 

Lord  Macartney,  who  had  been  sent  to  Verona  by 
the  British  government,  wrote  to  Lord  Granville, 
September  27,  1795 :  "  The  King  is  certainly  intelli- 
gent ;  his  information  is  extensive  and  varied,  and  he 
has  an  easy  manner  of  using  and  imparting  it.  Nor 
does  he  lack  judgment  when  he  is  not  influenced  by 
the  prejudices  of  his  education ;  his  very  prejudices 
have  been  considerably  lessened  and  modified  by  mis- 
fortune and  reflection.  Adversity  seems  to  have  had 
a  useful  effect  upon  his  mind ;  it  has  ameliorated 
without  exasperating  it.  He  is  believed  to  be  sincere 
in  his  faith ;  he  certainly  performs  his  religious  duties 
attentively.  He  never  fails  to  hear  Mass, .  nor  to 
observe  the  holy  days  of  his  Church,  and  he  does  not 
eat  meat  on  Fridays  and  Saturdays.  They  say  he 
has  never  been  inclined  to  practical  gallantry,  and 
that  his  attachment  for  Madame  de  Balbi  was  simply 
a  tie  formed  by  a  long  friendship  without  there  hav- 
ing been  the  smallest  link  of  a  more  electric  nature 
between  him  and  her.  He  is  susceptible  of  private 
friendships  and  can  be  faithful  to  them.  This  side  of 


LOUIS  XVIII  187 


his  character  is  strongly  defined  by  his  unvarying 
sentiments  toward  the  Count  of  Avaray  and  the 
attendants  who  accompanied  him  in  his  flight,  and 
have  never  left  him  since.  People  have  different 
opinions  concerning  their  merits,  but  he  alone  can 
judge  of  them." 

The  wife,  of  the  Pretender  had  remained  at  Turin 
with  her  father,  the  King  of  Sardinia.  She  received 
a  kindly  letter  from  her  husband  every  week,  but  did 
not  seem  anxious  to  rejoin  him.  In  reality,  there  was 
but  indifferent  sympathy  between  the  pair.  Lord 
Macartney  wrote  to  Lord  Granville :  "  The  King 
writes  regularly  once  a  week  to  the  Queen  ;  but  what 
seems  rather  singular  to  me,  is  that  I  have  never 
heard  her  name  pronounced,  either  by  him  or  any 
person  belonging  to  his  suite.  She  is  still  at  Turin 
and  very  well  maintained  by  her  father.  She  lives  a 
very  secluded  life,  and  sees  hardly  any  one  except  a 
Madame  de  Courbillon,  who  has  been  her  lady's-maid, 
and  who,  like  almost  all  favorites,  is  generally  de- 
tested by  those  not  in  the  same  situation  or  who  have 
not  the  same  qualities  to  recommend  them." 

The  principal  counsellors  surrounding  Louis 
XVIII.  at  Verona  were  the  Count  of  Avaray, 
Mgr.  Conzie*,  Bishop  of  Arras,  the  Count  of  Jau- 
court,  the  Marquis  of  Hautefort,  the  Count  of  Cosse*, 
the  Chevalier  of  Montagnac,  and  the  Count  of 
Damas.  "They  are  certainly  not  well  situated," 
writes  Lord  Macartney ;  "  the  Prince's  dwelling,  the 
Orto  del  Gazzola,  is  shabby ;  the  furniture  is  scanty, 


188  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

the  domestics  few,  and  the  liveries  threadbare.  The 
meals,  a  detail  so  important  to  Frenchmen,  are 
wretched." 

Louis  XVIII.  was  at  Verona  when  Marie  The're'se 
came  out  of  the  Temple.  But  he  was  not  to  remain 
there  long.  Alarmed  by  the  French  Republic,  the 
Republic  of  Venice  sent  the  podesta  of  Verona  to 
the  Pretender's  house  to  notify  him  to  depart  from 
their  territory.  "  I  will  go,"  replied  the  Prince, 
"  but  I  make  two  conditions :  the  first  is  that  they 
bring  me  the  golden  book  in  which  my  family  is 
inscribed,  so  that  I  may  erase  the  name  from  it  with 
my  own  hand ;  the  second,  that  they  give  me  back 
the  armor  which  my  ancestor,  Henri  IV.,  presented 
to  the  Republic." 

Expelled  in  this  manner  from  Verona,  Louis 
XVIII.  departed  April  20,  1796,  and  went  to  Rie- 
gel,  near  the  Prince  of  Conde",  whose  army  received 
him  with  enthusiasm.  But  Austria,  always  ill-dis- 
posed toward  the  Pretender,  would  not  allow  him 
to  remain  in  this  encampment.  Baron  Thugut 
apprised  him  that  he  would  be  expelled  by  force 
if  necessary.  The  unhappy  exile  set  out  again,  July 
14,  1796.  He  knew  not  where  to  find  a  refuge. 
On  the  fifth  day  of  his  journey,  July  19,  he  stopped 
in  the  evening  at  an  inn  in  the  little  town  of  Dil- 
lingen,  belonging  to  the  Elector  of  Treves.  The 
heat  was  stifling. '  He  went  to  the  window  for  air. 
A  shot  was  heard;  a  ball  grazed  his  forehead, 
wounded  him,  and  flattened  itself  out  against  the 


LOUIS  XVIII  189 


wall  of  the  room.  On  seeing  the  wound,  the  Count 
of  Avaray  exclaimed:  "Ah!  Sire,  a  hair's-breadth 
lower!  ..."  "Well,"  replied  Louis  XVIII.,  "the 
King  of  France  would  have  been  called  Charles  X." 
After  having  been  confined  to  his  bed  for  a  week, 
the  Pretender  resumed  his  route,  but  he  was  not 
completely  restored  until  two  months  later.  The 
SmigrSs  suspected' that  this  attempt  was  the  work 
of  the  Jacobins,  but  the  general  belief  was  that 
the  Germans,  tired  of  the  influx  of  Smigrts,  had 
sought  to  frighten  them  in  this  manner,  and  that 
the  assassin  was  probably  one  of  those  peasants  who 
slaughtered  the  volunteers  of  Conde"s  army  whenever 
they  found  them  defenceless.  The  heir  of  so  many 
kings  knew  not  where  to  rest  his  head.  He  was 
everywhere  treated  like  an  outlaw.  The  Princes  of 
Saxony  being  his  near  relatives,  since  his  mother 
was  a  Saxon  princess,  he  had  sent  the  Baron  of 
Flachslanden  to  Dresden  to  ask  for  hospitality.  The 
Elector  of  Saxony  regretted  that  existing  circum- 
stances made  it  impossible  for  him  to  show  that 
cordiality  which  his  sentiments  dictated  toward  the 
King.  The  Prince  of  Anhalt-Dessau  made  the  same 
response.  With  equal  unsuccess  Louis  XVIII.  sought 
a  temporary  asylum  in  the  principalities  of  Olden- 
berg,  Gevern,  and  Anhalt-Zerbst.  Repulsed  on  all 
sides,  he  at  last  came  to  the  Duke  of  Brunswick  and 
entreated  that  he  might  be  permitted  to  remain  in 
his  dominions  until  the  return  of  a  courier  whom  he 
had  despatched  to  Russia.  In  the  Duchy  of  Bruns- 


190  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

wick  he  stayed  in  the  little  town  of  Blankenburg, 
three  leagues  from  Halberstadt,  lodging  with  a 
brewer's  widow  from  whom  he  hired  three  rooms. 
One  of  these  served  as  salon  and  dining-room,  the 
second  as  a  bedroom,  and  the  third  was  transformed 
into  a  chapel  and  at  the  same  time  a  bedroom  for 
the  gentleman-in-waiting,  who  was  by  turns  the 
Duke  of  Guiche,  the  Duke  of  Gram  out,  and  the 
Count  of  Avaray.  The  Dukes  of  Villequier,  Fleury, 
and  Cosse*-Brissac,  lodged  where  they  could  in  the 
town.  They  dared  not  introduce  a  greater  number 
of  Frenchmen.  The  Count  of  Avaray  wrote  to  the 
Count  of  Antraigues :  "  The  Duke  of  Brunswick 
very  good-naturedly  ignores  the  King's  presence  in 
his  States ;  but  a  wise  circumspection  forbids  that 
the  £migr€s  of  the  vicinity  be  received."  For  all 
that,  Louis  XVIII.  maintained  a  little  court  in  the 
brewer's  incommodious  house.  The  women  were 
received  by  Madame  de  Marsan  and  his  niece  the 
Princess  Charles  de  Rohan. 

As  for  the  Queen,  she  continued  to  live  apart 
from  her  husband.  After  having  lost  the  asylum 
she  had  had  with  her  father  at  Turin,  and  vainly 
sought  another  with  the  Elector  of  Treves,  she  had 
been  received  as  if  by  charity  in  the  bishopric  of 
Passau,  a  small  imperial  state  which  formed  part 
of  the  Circle  of  Bavaria.  The  bishop's  chancellor 
accorded  the  permission  only  on  condition  that  "  the 
worthy  lady  and  her  suite  shall  never  become  charge- 
able on  the  exchequer  of  His  Lordship  the  Bishop 
or  his  subjects." 


LOUIS  XVIII  191 


Louis  XVIII.  was  still  at  Blankenburg  when  he 
heard  of  the  coup  d1  £tat  of  the  18th  Fructidor 
(September  4,  1799),  which  deferred  his  hopes  of  a 
restoration.  "  It  is  a  misfortune  for  France  and  for 
many  honest  people,"  he  wrote  to  the  Count  of 
Saint-Priest,  September  14,  "  but  I  know  your  soul, 
and  I  am  sure  that  it  will  not  be  more  cast  down 
than  mine  is."  The  treaty  of  Campo  Formio  (Octo- 
ber 17,  1797)  had  so  strengthened  the  Directory 
that  in  all  continental  Europe  no  one  dared  to  shel- 
ter the  heir  of  Louis  XIV.  any  longer.  The  Ger- 
mans blamed  the  Duke  of  Brunswick  for  receiving 
£migr£8,  and  the  King  of  Prussia  notified  him  to 
banish  Louis  XVIII.  without  delay.  In  vain  did  the 
unhappy  Pretender  write  to  Berlin  to  obtain  some 
slight  consideration,  and  ask  not  to  be  obliged  to 
set  out  in  the  depth  of  winter  without  knowing 
where  to  find  even  a  momentary  refuge.  Berlin 
responded  by  an  order  to  depart  at  once.  The  Duke 
of  Brunswick  was  forced  to  intervene  in  order  to 
obtain  a  respite  of  eight  days  for  the  royal  prescript. 
Louis  XVIII.  left  Blankenburg  in  the  middle  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1798.  The  new  Emperor  of  Russia,  Paul  I., 
having  at  last  consented  to  receive  him  in  his  do- 
minions, he  went  to  Courland  and  from  thence  to 
Mittau. 


THE  EMIGRES 

"NTIL  1814,  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  was 
to  know  no  Frenchman  except  £migr€s.  It 
must  be  owned,  their  society  was  not  of  a  sort  to 
inspire  her  with  agreeable  reflections.  The  mere 
sight  of  them  was  enough  to  recall  a  whole  series  of 
faults  and  misfortunes  for  which  they  were  partly 
responsible.  The  young  Princess  blamed  them  for 
having  long  compounded  with  the  philosophic  ene- 
mies of  religion,  and  thought  that  the  blows  aimed 
at  the  altar  had  been  one  of  the  chief  causes  of  the 
downfall  of  the  throne.  She  had  often  heard  her 
father  and  mother  complain  of  the  emigration. 
Doubtless,  while  the  Terror  lasted,  for  an  aristocrat 
to  remain  in  France  was  virtually  to  condemn  him- 
self to  death.  But  in  1789,  before  the  October  Days, 
a  struggle  against  the  adversaries  of  the  monarchy 
was  still  possible.  The  real  field  of  battle  had  been 
at  Paris,  not  at  Brussels  or  Coblentz.  This  thought 
has  been  expressed  in  his  Souvenirs  by  an  £migr£, 
the  Count  of  Puymaigre :  "  I  could  defend  the  emi- 
gration," he  says,  "when  it  was  the  only  means  of 
escaping  from  death  and  thus  became  a  necessity; 

192 


THE  EMIGEES  193 


but  there  is  no  doubt  that  spontaneous  emigration 
as  a  political  system  was  a  great  blunder,  and  that 
it  made  an  excellent  cause  unpopular  by  apparently 
associating  it  with  the  grasping  and  malevolent 
pretensions  of  our  ancient  enemies." 

As  the  Count  of  Fersen  mentions  in  his  journal, 
Marie  Antoinette  had  said:  "We  lament  the  num- 
ber of  the  emigrants ;  it  is  frightful  to  see  the  way 
in  which  all  these  honest  people  are  and  have 
been  deceived."  Marie  The're'se  recollected  that 
when  her  Aunt  Elisabeth  was  entreated  to  leave 
France  she  had  exclaimed :  "  To  go  away  would  be 
cruel  as  well  as  stupid."  Another  6migr6,  the 
Count  of  Contades,  remarks  in  his  curious  Souvenirs 
sur  Coblentz  et  Quiberon :  "  Towards  the  close  of 
1791,  opinion  had  become  so  adverse  to  the  Revo- 
lution that  it  was  no  longer  permissible  to  remain  in 
France,  even  with  the  purest  intentions  and  the 
desire  and  ability  to  be  of  service.  Those  who  for 
various  reasons  had  been  obliged  to  leave  their  places, 
and  who  felt  that  they  were  lost  if  their  example 
was  not  followed,  taxed  with  cowardice  and  devoted 
to  infamy  those  who,  more  constant,  and  possibly 
more  courageous,  desired  to  remain  and  perish  at 
their  post  rather  than  go  begging  in  foreign  lands  for 
the  assistance  they  thought  they  should  be  able  to 
render  themselves.  From  the  beginning  of  the  Revo- 
lution many  colonels  abandoned  their  regiments  and 
hastened  to  enrol  under  the  banners  of  the  Prince  of 
Conde'.  I  have  always  condemned  this  conduct  as  one 


194  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

cause  of  our  misfortunes.  Could  one  compare  the 
usefulness  of  an  armed  commander  esteemed  by  his 
men,  combating  the  Revolution  by  arresting  its 
progress  and  incessantly  recalling  his  misled  soldiers 
to  honor  and  duty,  with  that  of  an  individual  who 
had  become  a  private  soldier  with  no  resources  but 
those  strictly  personal  ?  " 

But  passion  does  not  reason.  A  fatal  current  im- 
pelled the  old  society  to  suicide.  To  those  who 
hesitated  before  leaving  their  country,  perhaps  for- 
ever, the  women  sent  distaffs,  dolls,  and  nightcaps. 
Moreover,  they  thought  that  nothing  more  serious 
than  a  trip  to  the  banks  of  the  Rhine  was  in  question. 
In  five  or  six  weeks  they  expected  to  come  back  in 
triumph;  all  that  was  necessary  would  be  to  show 
one's  feather,  a  white  handkerchief,  the  Prince  of 
Condd's  boot,  and  six  francs'  worth  of  cord  to  hang 
the  Revolutionary  leaders  with.  The  chief  protector 
of  the  £migr£s,  Gustavus  III.  of  Sweden,  wrote  at 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  June  16,  1791 :  "  All  of  these  exiles 
are  animated  with  the  same  hatred  against  the 
National  Assembly,  and  also  with  an  exaggeration 
on  all  subjects  of  which  you  have  no  idea.  It  is 
really  curious  to  see  and  hear  them."  But  let  us 
allow  an  £migr£  officer  in  Conde"s  army,  the  Count 
of  Contades,  to  speak :  "  Two  or  three  thousand  gen- 
tlemen honestly  believed  themselves  able  to  bring 
about  a  counter-revolution.  The  Prince  of  Conde* 
perfectly  comprehended  the  folly  of  this  chimerical 
dream,  but  nevertheless,  he  wanted  to  prolong  it. 


THE  EMIGRES  195 


The  emigres  used  to  meet  at  a  cafe*  in  Coblentz, 
called  the  Trois  Colonnes,  and  laugh  and  chatter  with 
the  same  lightness  and  frivolity  as  if  they  had  been 
in  the  salons  of  Paris  or  Versailles.  They  spent 
their  whole  time  in  card-playing,  slandering  the 
Princes,  and  grooming  their  horses  in  their  quar- 
ters." Another  officer  of  Condi's  army,  the  Count 
of  Puymaigre,  writes :  "  A  strange  spectacle  was 
presented  by  this  gathering  of  emigres,  former  offi- 
cers and  magistrates  now  in  the  ranks,  who  shoul- 
dered their  guns  and  groomed  their  horses.  The 
noble  corps  contained,  however,  many  bourgeois  (if 
I  may  be  pardoned  the  expression  of  the  time)  who 
had  joined  our  cause  either  through  conviction  or 
vanity,  many  old  and  many  young  men,  children 
almost,  and  in  this  strange  medley  a  point  of  honor, 
exaggerated  in  certain  circumstances,  but  which  was 
more  powerful  than  the  rules  of  discipline,  covered 
any  man  with  disgrace  who  failed  to  be  present  at 
gun-fire.  The  manners  were  those  of  the  reign  of 
Louis  XV. 

"  In  spite  of  the  principles  which  had  caused  us  to 
leave  France,  nothing  could  be  more  licentious  than 
Conde"s  army ;  we  were  dissolute,  but  never  sceptical 
in  matters  of  religion;  the  lewdest  young  fellow, 
receiving  a  mortal  wound,  would  not  dispense  with 
the  assistance  of  a  priest,  and  yet,  at  the  same  time, 
our  favorite  reading  was  the  philosophical  works  then 
in  vogue.  The  minor  poets  of  the  day  enlivened  our 
night-watches.  Boufflers  was  most  popular  with  us. 


196  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

.  .  .  Our  hosts  could  not  understand  how  men,  exiled 
from  their  country  for  the  sake  of  God  and  their 
King,  could  come  to  corrupt  foreign  lands;  nor 
how  the  same  men  who  never  ceased  preaching  re- 
spect for  property,  could  infringe  the  laws,  and  ruin 
parks  reserved  for  the  pleasure  of  princes  and  great 
German  proprietors,  in  order  to  gratify  their  passion 
for  hunting ;  in  a  word,  how  they  could  treat  the 
most  serious  matters  with  a  levity  of  which  the  Revo- 
lution should  have  cured  them.  These  were  merited 
reproaches ;  but  in  other  respects  our  detractors  were 
obliged  to  do  us  justice,  and  we  became  the  objects  of 
their  admiration." 

And  then  the  6migr6,  with  renewed  esprit  de  corps, 
exclaims:  "Who  except  ourselves  could  have  pre- 
served this  gaiety  which  supported  us  in  our  adver- 
sities and  which  blended  into  one  the  old  man  and 
the  adolescent  youth;  this  chivalrous  idea  which 
united  them  in  the  same  sentiment  of  duty  and  of 
honor.  .  .  .  Was  not  this  levity  of  which  we  were 
accused  the  sister  of  our  brilliant  qualities  ?  " 

How  many  times  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and 
Marie  Antoinette  had  heard  her  parents  talk  of  this 
heroic  but  useless  emigration ;  of  Coblentz,  so  mad 
and  vicious,  yet  so  witty  and  charming,  which  did 
such  harm  to  the  monarchy,  though  with  the  best 
intentions ;  of  these  vain  and  censorious  gentlemen, 
who  had  the  wit  to  laugh  at  their  ill  fortune,  but  not 
the  wisdom  to  learn  a  lesson  from  it!  She  knew 
the  sentiments  of  the  unhappy  Queen,  who  said  to 


THE  EMIGRES  197 


Francis  Hue :  "  The  assistance  of  foreigners  is  one 
of  those  measures  which  a  wise  king  never  employs 
except  at  the  last  extremity,"  and  who  never  looked 
to  the  other  bank  of  the  Rhine  except  in  her  de- 
spondent hours.  She  knew  —  for  Marie  Antoinette 
had  often  told  her  so  —  that  if  these  Emigres  had  ex- 
pended at  home  half  the  energy  and  the  efforts 
which  they  lavished  uselessly  abroad,  the  throne 
might  have  been  saved. 

Their  illusions  were  dispelled  very  promptly. 
The  emigration  which,  when  it  began,  was  con- 
sidered as  a  mere  pleasure  party,  a  brief,  delightful 
trip  undertaken  for  enjoyment,  turned  out  a  dole- 
ful and  lamentable  exodus  whose  end  no  one  could 
foresee.  The  €migr£  who  bore  arms  under  Condd's 
standards  had  at  least  the  usual  distractions  of  camp 
life  and  could  support  himself  on  the  pay  he  re- 
ceived from  Austria.  But  the  decay  and  poverty 
of  the  £migr£  in  civil  life  were  sad  enough.  M. 
Fourneron  makes  a  striking  sketch  of  them :  "  The 
frivolous  Frenchman  who  received  funds  from  his 
family  never  thought  that  every  one  of  his  relatives 
risked  his  head  for  each  penny  sent;  he  lived  an 
idle  life  and  had  a  horror  of  work ;  he  grew  weary 
of  his  room;  he  would  not  deign  to  learn  German; 
he  rose  late  and  went  to  seek  some  friend  as  silly 
as  himself  to  breakfast  with  him  at  the  French  res- 
taurant ;  he  paid  visits  and  showed  himself  importu- 
nate and  bored.  Out  of  money,  with  shabby  coat  and 
torn  linen,  all  beheld  their  compatriots  succumbing 


198  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

to  poverty  in  the  midst  of  strangers  whose  language 
they  did  not  understand  and  who  regarded  them 
with  suspicion.  The  past  was  heartrending  and  the 
future  gloomy."  The  single  resource  of  nearly  all 
the  6migr6$,  was  the  sale  of  the  trifling  objects  they 
had  been  able  to  carry  with  them  on  leaving  France, 
but  this  had  been  speedily  exhausted,  and  they  were 
obliged  to  work  for  their  living.  From  1794,  their 
destitution  was  complete.  On  July  8,  the  Count  of 
Se"rent  wrote  to  the  Count  of  Antraigues :  "  The  Count 
of  Provence  has  constantly  before  his  eyes  the  spec- 
tacle of  our  wretched  tmigrSs,  fleeing  from  the  differ- 
ent retreats  where  they  have  been  lodged  and  fed 
on  credit,  and  wandering  along  the  roads  coatless 
and  shirtless.  To  lack  even  the  smallest  means 
of  providing  for  them  is  the  most  painful  of  situa- 
tions." This  poverty  had  increased  frightfully  in  the 
years  that  followed.  It  must  be  admitted  that  if 
the  French  nobility  had  committed  great  faults  they 
were  punished  for  them  in  a  terrible  manner.  Their 
bitterest  enemies  were  obliged  to  pity  them. 

The  great  ladies  who,  when  the  emigration  began, 
kept  up  the  grand  manners  of  Versailles  on  the  bor- 
ders of  the  Rhine,  thinking  they  were  about  to  re- 
turn there  after  a  few  days ;  those  proud  and  witty 
beauties,  thinking  of  nothing  but  gaming  and  in- 
trigue, who  at  the  court  of  the  Princes  had  thought 
they  were  acquiring  influence  in  exile,  lived  now  on 
alms  or  by  manual  labor.  They  had  sold  their  last 
jewels,  their  last  laces.  Driven  out  of  Germany,  a 


THE  EMIGRES  199 


great  many  of  them  took  refuge  in  Hamburg  which 
offers  an  epitome  of  the  life  of  the  French  emigres 
throughout  the  world.  Some  gave  lessons,  others 
kept  shops  or  practised  some  trade.  But,  when  night 
came,  they  met  together  and,  seeking  to  forget  their 
wretchedness,  they  said  to  each  other :  "  I  have 
been  a  shopkeeper  all  day ;  now  I  will  be  a  lady  for 
awhile." 

Marie  The'rese  was  profoundly  saddened  by  all  she 
knew  of  the  £migr£s.  Noble  and  generous  herself, 
she  was  inconsolable  at  being  unable  to  relieve  such 
miseries ;  and  the  decay,  the  poverty,  the  humilia- 
tions and  anguish  of  these  unhappy  nobles  whom  she 
had  seen  so  brilliant  and  so  haughty  at  Versailles  in 
her  childhood,  incessantly  caused  her  painful  reflec- 
tions. At  every  instant  her  heart  bled.  One  day 
she  heard  of  the  Quiberon  disaster  and  the  odious 
massacre  of  prisoners ;  on  another,  of  the  catastro- 
phes in  Vende'e  and  the  execution  of  Charette. 
Again  it  was  the  proscriptions  of  which  the  royalists 
were  victims  after  the  18th  Fructidor,  the  fusillades 
in  the  plain  of  Grenelle,  the  deportations  in  iron 
cages,  the  exiles  to  Cayenne,  which  was  called  the 
dull  guillotine.  All  the  families  in  which  the 
daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  felt  any  interest  were 
attainted.  The  wind  of  misfortune  blew  from  all 
the  cardinal  points  at  once,  and  the  French  aristo- 
crats, tossed  from  one  tempest  to  another,  were 
hounded  by  an  implacable  fatality  from  every  shore. 
All  that  was  occurring  overwhelmed  with  grief  a 


200  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

patriotic  Princess,  for  whom,  as  a  poet  has  said,  it 
was  an  inexpressible  vexation  to  ascend  and  descend 
the  staircase  of  another.  She  was  astonished  at  the 
levity  of  the  £migr€s  when  she  saw  them  amuse 
themselves  and  smile.  She  sympathized  less  with 
them  than  with  the  loyal  and  heroic  peasants  of 
Vendee,  who  had  waged  what  Napoleon  called  a  war 
of  giants,  and  to  whom  the  Restoration  showed  itself 
so  ungrateful  later  on. 

At  the  time  when  she  rejoined  Louis  XVIII.  at 
Mittau,  Marie  The'rSse  was  fully  acquainted  with 
all  the  intrigues,  rivalries,  jealousies,  and  rancors 
that  spring  up  around  an  empty  phantom  of  royalty. 
Even  in  exile  princes  have  their  courtiers  and  flat- 
terers, and  the  petty  annoyances  of  court  life  beset 
them  in  an  inn  as  well  as  in  a  palace.  The  favors 
they  may  possibly  dispense  some  day  are  quarrelled 
over  with  premature  avidity.  Promises  are  extorted 
from  them.  Their  accession  is  discounted.  From 
her  childhood  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie 
Antoinette  had  learned  by  experience  what  to  think 
of  courtiers.  She  knew  all  about  the  egotism,  the 
inconstancy,  and  the  greediness  of  many  of  them. 
No  woman  knew  how  to  distinguish  wheat  from 
tares  better  than  this  young  girl.  With  a  perspi- 
cacity rare  at  her  age  she  saw  what  was  sincere  and 
what  false  in  the  devotion  protested  for  her.  She 
could  read  the  faces  of  her  interlocutors,  penetrate 
their  thoughts,  and  recognize  instantly  those  who 
were  worthy  of  her  esteem.  She  had  none  of  that 


THE  EMIGRES  201 


commonplace  amiability  which  pretends  to  accept 
the  world's  counterfeit  coin  as  current  money.  She 
had  reflected  much  since  1789.  Not  one  of  the 
severe  lessons  given  her  by  Providence  had  been 
fruitless.  She  had  learned  to  know  the  human 
heart  at  the  Tuileries,  the  Temple,  and  Vienna. 
Brought  up  in  the  school  of  misfortunes,  she  par- 
doned, but  she  did  not  forget. 


VI 

MITTAU 

LOUIS  XVIII.  arrived  at  Mittau,  March  23, 
1798.  He  received  a  royal  hospitality  from 
the  Emperor  of  Russia,  Paul  I.,  who  not  only  sup- 
plied him  with  a  palace,  but  with  very  considerable 
subsidies.  How  was  it  that  the  heir  of  Louis  XVI. 
became  the  guest  and  debtor  of  the  heir  of  Peter 
the  Great,  and  through  what  strange  and  unforeseen 
circumstances  did  the  former  court  of  Versailles, 
which  had  been  cast  off  by  all  Europe,  find  refuge 
in  Russia?  What  politician  or  prophet  could  have 
predicted  such  events  ? 

Catherine  the  Great,  the  mother  of  the  Czar  Paul 
I.,  had  taken  an  interest  in  the  French  SmigrSs. 
Directly  after  the  death  of  Louis  XVI.,  the  Count 
of  Artois,  who  was  one  day  to  style  himself  Charles 
X.,  had  sought  the  aid  of  the  powerful  Empress. 
He  arrived  unexpectedly  at  Saint  Petersburg  in  the 
month  of  May,  1793.  The  Czarina  lavished  honors 
and  entertainments  on  the  then  attractive  young 
Prince.  She  gave  him  a  sword  with  a  diamond  hilt 
which  she  caused  to  be  blessed  at  the  cathedral,  and 
on  which  were  engraven  the  words :  "  Through  God, 

202 


MITTAU  203 

through  the  King."  She  pushed  the  niceties  of  hos- 
pitality so  far  as  to  furnish  the  brother  of  Louis 
XVI.  with  the  jewels  he  was  obliged  to  distribute 
to  the  Russian  courtiers.  Proud  of  being  greeted 
like  a  Henry  IV.  by  the  Russian  court,  the  Count  of 
Artois  conversed  about  nothing  but  battles. 

The  upper  circles  of  Saint  Petersburg  society  were 
at  this  time  very  enthusiastic  for  the  French  emigra- 
tion. On  this  head  we  will  cite  a  remarkable  page 
from  M.  Albert  Sorel's  fine  work,  VEurope  et  la 
Revolution  f ran  faise:  "Joseph  de  Maistre  said  to  the 
Russians:  'Nothing  is  constant  with  you  except 
inconstancy.'  The  caprice  which  had  brought  the 
philosophers  into  vogue,  passed  over  to  the  &miyr£s 
without  effort  or  transition.  What  they  had  so 
greatly  delighted  in  before  the  Revolution  was  the 
old  French  society,  so  liberal  minded,  so  subtly 
civilized,  so  noble  in  its  sentiments  and  aspirations. 
It  appeared  to  them  in  1793  that  this  was  better 
represented  by  a  Duke  of  Richelieu  than  by  a  Robes- 
pierre. The  subsequent  change  on  their  part  is  not 
in  reality  so  strange  as  it  seems.  They  had  prided 
themselves  on  their  philosophy  as  distinguishing 
them  from  others,  through  a  spirit  of  caste,  and 
the  search  for  elegance.  No  sooner  did  philosophy 
become  revolutionary,  the  Revolution  democratic, 
and  France  the  people,  than  they  included  in  the 
same  hatred,  and  condemned  with  the  same  arro- 
gance, philosophy,  the  Revolution,  and  France 
itself." 


204  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEML 

M.  Sorel  also  makes  the  following  just  observa- 
tion on  the  change  effected  in  the  mind  of  Catherine 
the  Great:  "People  cannot  understand  how  it  was 
that  this  Semiramis  of  the  eighteenth  century 
showed  herself  from  the  very  first  so  disparaging 
and  ruthless  towards  a  revolution  which,  at  least 
when  it  began,  was  the  practical  working  out  of  the 
ideas  of  those  whom  the  Empress  openly  proclaimed 
to  be  her  friends  and  masters.  They  are  surprised 
at  seeing  her  preach  the  crusade  of  kings  with  an 
unheard-of  vehemence  of  sarcasm,  and  raising  against 
the  Revolution  that  terrible  war-cry  of  Voltaire  and 
the  Encyclopedists,  'Crush  the  wretch!'  which  but 
lately  led  the  whole  army  of  philosophers  to  the 
assault.  They  are  astonished,  in  a  word,  that,  sus- 
taining in  Poland  what  she  antagonized  in  France, 
she  displayed  the  same  ferocity  in  maintaining 
anarchy  in  Warsaw  as  she  did  in  re-establishing 
the  monarchy  in  France.  They  have  concluded  that 
she  did  not  act  from  principle,  which  is  very  true, 
and  that  her  designs  lacked  consecutiveness,  which 
is  a  great  mistake.  Principles  have  nothing  to  do 
with  this  affair.  Catherine  did  not  trouble  herself 
about  them  in  the  least.  The  Revolution  in  France 
disarranged  her  plans,  and  she  detested  it ;  anarchy 
in  Poland  agreed  with  them,  and  she  fomented  it. 
She  passed  formidable  sentences  against  the  French 
rebels,  but  she  left  the  care  of  executing  them  to  the 
Germans.  She  was  at  no  pains  to  withdraw  a  single 
one  of  her  soldiers  from  the  roads  of  Russia.  The 


MTTTAU  205 

sentiments  of  her  people  and  the  remoteness  of  her 
dominions  protected  her  from  propagandism." 

Moreover,  Catherine  II.  had  but  slender  sympathy 
with  Louis  XVIII.  She  accused  him  of  indecision 
and  hypocrisy.  She  would  have  been  unwilling  to 
give  him  a  refuge  in  her  Empire.  But  she  died 
suddenly,  November  18,  1796,  and  her  son,  Paul  I., 
who  succeeded  her,  was  enthusiastic  for  the  French 
emigration  and  the  Pretender. 

The  new  Czar,  who  had  had  hallucinations  in  his 
youth,  had  long  been  considered  a  dangerous  maniac 
by  the  foreign  ambassadors.  In  1791,  the  French 
agent,  Genet,  wrote  concerning  Catherine's  son: 
"He  will  be  the  most  irritable  of  tyrants.  He 
follows  the  steps  of  his  wretched  father  in  all 
things,  and  unless  the  heart  of  the  Grand  Duchess, 
his  wife,  is  the  temple  of  all  the  virtues,  he  will 
some  day  experience  the  same  fate;  he  expects  it, 
he  tells  her  so  himself,  he  overwhelms  her  with 
vexations  ...  he  is  gloomy,  savage,  suspicious; 
he  places  confidence  in  nobody  whatever." 

An  harassed  nature,  a  soul  of  fire,  a  mind  disturbed 
by  horrible  catastrophes,  sometimes  kind  hearted  in 
spite  of  his  errors  and  his  violence,  a  blending  of  the 
tyrant  and  the  chevalier,  the  Czar  Paul,  a  sort  of 
crowned  Hamlet,  the  son  ,of  an  assassinated  father, 
and  himself  destined  to  assassination,  was  a  strange 
and  deadly  personage,  but  one  whose  fantastic 
caprices  become  intelligible  when  the  moral  tortures 
inflicted  on  him  by  his  memories  and  his  presenti- 


206  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

ments  are  taken  into  account.  An  imaginative 
man,  he  was  versatile  but  sincere  and  convinced  in 
his  enthusiasms  so  long  as  he  experienced  them. 
He  was  infatuated  with  Louis  XVIII.  and  with 
Bonaparte  by  turns.  For  that  matter,  when  AVC 
have  so  often  changed  our  own  enthusiasms,  is  it 
astonishing  that  a  foreigner  should  experience  a 
variety  of  impressions  concerning  French  affairs 
which  is  shared  by  Frenchmen. themselves? 

In  1798,  Paul  I.  was  in  perfectly  good  faith  when 
he  took  Condi's  army  into  his  pay  and  offered  mag- 
nificent hospitality  to  Louis  XVIII.  He  recalled, 
and  not  without  emotion,  the  welcome  he  had 
received  at  Versailles  from  Louis  XVI.  in  1782, 
when  he  was  travelling  under  the  name  of  the  Count 
du  Nord.  At  that  time  the  royal  star  of  France, 
like  a  setting  sun,  was  still  illumining  the  horizon 
with  its  splendid  lustre,  and  the  court  of  Versailles 
took  a  sort  of  coquettish  pleasure  in  displaying  all 
its  brilliancy  to  the  Russian  Prince.  Never  had  a 
more  dazzling  ball  been  given  in  the  Gallery  of  the 
Mirrors.  Never  had  the  Little  Trianon  exhibited 
more  elegance  and  charm.  The  Prince  of  Conde", 
rivalling  the  King  himself  in  point  of  luxury,  gave 
an  astonishingly  magnificent  entertainment  to  the 
son  of  Catherine  the  Great;  Chantilly  equalled,  if 
it  did  not  surpass,  Versailles;  and  the  Parisians 
exclaimed:  "The  King  has  received  the  Count  du 
Nord  like  a  friend,  the  Duke  of  Orleans  like  a 
bourgeois,  and  the  Prince  of  Conde"  like  a  sovereign." 


MITTAU  207 

What  tragedies  had  occurred  since  then!  Louis 
XVI.,  Marie  Antoinette,  and  Madame  Elisabeth 
had  been  beheaded,  the  two  brothers  of  Louis  XVI. 
proscribed,  and  the  young  Marie  The'rese  of  France, 
the  charming  child  who  had  so  fascinated  the  Rus- 
sian Prince  at  Versailles,  was  now  the  orphan  of  the 
Temple ! 

At  the  close  of  1797,  the  Prince  of  Comic*,  the 
splendid  proprietor  of  that  marvellous  chateau  of 
Chantilly  which  remained  like  a  dream  of  fairyland 
in  the  memory  of  Paul  I.,  was  an  outlaw  whose 
army,  which  had  been  alternately  in  the  pay  of  Aus- 
tria and  England,  no  longer  found  any  Power  will- 
ing to  support  it.  It  was  then  the  Czar  conceived 
the  notion  of  taking  it  into  his  service.  He  sent  one 
of  his  aides-de-camp,  Prince  Gortchakoff,  to  Uberlin- 
gen,  on  Lake  Constance,  where  the  Prince  of  Conde* 
had  established  his  headquarters,  and  his  proposal 
was  heartily  welcomed.  Condi's  army  at  once  took 
up  its  march  toward  Russia.  One  of  its  officers,  the 
Count  of  Puymaigre,  has  written  in  his  curious 
Souvenirs:  "We  did  not  reach  the  shores  of  the 
Bug,  the  boundary  of  the  Russian  Empire,  until 
some  time  in  the  month  of  January,  1798.  I 
remember  that  it  was  a  foggy  and  very  cold  day 
when  we  crossed  the  frontier.  There,  to  our  regret, 
we  left  off  our  white  cockades,  the  symbol  and  goal 
of  all  our  efforts,  to  assume  the  Muscovite  insignia. 
A  pope,  or  Russian  priest,  who  was  in  a  miserable 
cabin  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  made  us  swear  on  a 


208  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

Greek  Gospel,  our  oaths  of  fidelity  to  our  new  sov- 
ereign, the  Czar.  The  €miyr6s,  transformed  into 
Russians  as  a  result  of  so  many  strange  events,  pre- 
sented a  singular  spectacle.  .  .  .  Those  among 
us  who,  on  account  of  their  rank  or  social  habits 
thought  it  their  duty  or  pleasure  to  visit  the  Polish 
nobility  were,  from  the  time  of  our  arrival,  perfectly 
well  received.  .  .  .  The  women  especially  showed 
themselves  so  enthusiastic  that  they  provided  us 
with  fashionable  clothes.  But  this  fervor  did  not 
last  long,  or  was  at  least  restrained  within  narrow 
limits.  So  many  indiscretions,  impertinences  rather, 
it  must  needs  be  said,  were  committed  by  our  young 
men  that  many  doors  were  closed  against  us.  The 
same  thing  had  happened  in  Germany." 

As  one  sees,  Conde"s  officer  does  not  spare  his 
comrades  overmuch.  "The  Czar,"  he  adds,  "pro- 
scribed philosophic  works,  and  yet  in  spite  of  the 
most  formal  ukases,  I  have  nowhere  seen  Voltaire, 
Rousseau,  Raynal,  and  othep  of  that  crew  more 
widely  diffused  or  in  greater  credit  than  in  Poland. 
They  formed  the  favorite  reading  of  both  married 
and  unmarried  ladies,  who  took  pains  to  lend  their 
works  while  recommending  us  to  keep  them  secret. 
I  have  already  said  that,  notwithstanding  the  pur- 
pose of  our  emigration,  liberal  ideas  found  their  way 
into  our  ranks  as  well  as  elsewhere.  ...  A  ukase, 
or  imperial  decree,  forbade  waltzing  in  any  part  of 
the  Empire,  because  the  Empress  had  contracted  an 
inflammation  of  the  lungs  by  waltzing  too  much. 


MITTAU  209 

This  accident,  therefore,  was  to  change  the  cus- 
toms of  all  the  populations  between  Germany  and 
the  great  wall  of  China!  I  thought  this  a  trifle 
arbitrary,  but  we  evaded  it  by  waltzing  with  closed 
doors  ...  as  if  we  were  conspirators.  .  .  .  An 
officer  of  Condi's  army  who  bore  the  fine  name  of 
Beaumanoir  was  sent  to  Siberia  on  account  of  an 
intercepted  letter  he  had  written  to  one  of  his  friends 
at  Constance,  in  which  he  declaimed  against  serf- 
dom and  despotism.  The  same  man  had  nearly  lost 
his  life  in  France  and  been  obliged  to  emigrate 
because  he  had  published  his  opinions  on  the  abuse 
of  liberty.  This  was  mocking  at  misfortune." 

Louis  XVIII.  was  to  expiate  dearly  the  hospital- 
ity offered  him  by  the  Emperor  Paul  I.  At  first  its 
character  was  not  simply  courteous,  but  magnificent. 
On  March  23,  1798,  the  Pretender  with  his  nephew, 
the  young  Duke  of  Angoule*me,  made  a  formal  entry 
into  Mittau.  The  different  guilds  of  artisans  came 
to  meet  him,  and  the  former  palace  of  the  Dukes  of 
Courland,  which  he  was  to  occupy,  was  manned  by 
as  many  guards  as  if  the  Czar  himself  had  been 
expected. 

Paul  I.  carried  his  delicate  attentions  so  far  as  to 
provide  the  Prince,  whom  he  considered  the  King  of 
France  and  Navarre,  with  a  special  guard  of  one 
hundred  noble  cavaliers  chosen  from  among  the 
former  body-guard  of  Louis  XVI.  The  Count  of 
Auger,  one  of  that  unhappy  sovereign's  most  faith- 
ful adherents,  was  appointed  commander  of  this  de- 


210  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

tachment,  drawn  from  Condi's  army  and  paid  by  the 
Czar. 

Until  1795,  when  Courland  and  Se"migalle  were 
annexed  to  the  Russian  Empire,  Mittau  had  been 
the  capital  of  these  two  duchies.  It  contained  a 
population  of  about  twelve  thousand  souls,  and  its 
only  remarkable  edifice  was  the  chateau,  situated  at 
the  end  of  the  town  on  the  Riga  road,  along  the  left 
bank  of  a  little  river  called  the  Grosbach.  It  was 
built  in  the  form  of  a  square,  with  a  courtyard  in 
the  middle,  and  was  surrounded  by  a  moat  filled 
with  water.  Its  large  and  well-arranged  apartments 
made  it  a  very  suitable  abode  for  Louis  XVIII.  He 
had  with  him  the  Count  of  Avaray,  the  Duke  of 
Guiche,  the  Count  of  Cosse"-Brissac,  the  Marquis  of 
Jaucourt,  the  Count  of  La  Chapelle,  the  Duke 
of  Villequier,  the  Marquis  of  Sourdis,  the  Viscount 
of  Agoult,  the  Chevalier  of  Montaignac,  the  Cheva- 
lier of  Boisheuil,  M.  de  Guilhermy,  a  former  deputy 
'to  the  States- General,  and  M.  de  Courvoisier.  His 
almoner  was  the  venerable  Abbe*  Edgeworth  of  Fir- 
mont,  who  had  attended  Louis  XVI.  on  the  scaffold. 

"In  this  palace  of  a  dispossessed  sovereign," 
writes  the  Baron  of  Barante  in  his  Notice  sur  le 
Comte  de  Saint- Priest,  "Louis  XVIII.  set  up  a 
simulacrum  of  Versailles.  The  minute  observances 
of  etiquette,  the  presence  of  several  former  courtiers 
as  faithful  to  their  accustomed  ways  of  thinking 
as  to  their  humble  sentiments  of  devotion,  the  old 
body-guards  surrounding  him  when  he  went  to  the 


MITTAU  211 

chapel,  and  the  whole  petty  reproduction  of  the 
pompous  life  of  courts,  where  one  encountered  even 
the  ambitions,  jealousies,  and  intrigues  of  palace 
servants,  formed  an  easy  and  agreeable  position,  for 
Louis  XVIII.  based  upon  his  beatific  consciousness 
of  his  rights;  he  seemed  to  think  he  was  enjoying 
the  very  essentials  of  royalty.  Sensible  men,  seeing 
him  thus  satisfied,  pitied  him  less  for  his  misfor- 
tunes than  for  his  contentment." 

At  the  beginning  of  his  sojourn  at  Mittau,  Louis 
XVIII.  was  treated  respectfully  by  the  Russian 
court,  because  Paul  I.,  thoroughly  engrossed  by 
his  schemes  concerning  the  Order  of  Malta,  wished 
to  make  royalist  France  enter  into  his  religious 
and  chivalrous  combinations.  Although  cut  off  from 
the  Roman  communion  by  the  schism  of  Photius, 
the  Russian  sovereign  had  conceived  the  notion  of 
making  himself  grand-master  of  a  military  and 
religious  order  of  which  the  Pope  was  superior. 
The  taking  of  Malta,  by  General  Bonaparte  in  June, 
1798,  had  entailed  the  destruction  of  the  sovereign 
order  of  Saint  John  of  Jerusalem.  The  three  "  lan- 
guages " l  of  Provence,  Auvergne,  and  France  were 
no  longer  in  existence.  That  of  Italy  was  under 
French  domination.  The  silence  of  the  grand- 
>5master,  Hompesch,  who  had  retired  to  Trieste  and 
obstinately  refused  to  explain  his  conduct,  decided 
the  grand-prior  of  Russia  to  offer  the  grand-master- 

1  The  eight  nations  which  composed  the  order  of  Saint  John 
of  Jerusalem  were  spoken  of  as  languages. 


212  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

ship  of  the  order  to  the  Emperor  Paul  I.  The 
grand-priors  of  Bohemia,  Bavaria,  and  Germany 
determined  to  follow  the  example  of  Russia.  The 
former  grand-master,  Hompesch,  who  had  already 
sold  the  island  of  Malta  to  the  French  fleet,  sold 
also  his  signature  to  all  these  acts  and  approved  all 
the  concessions.  Thenceforward  the  Czar,  adding 
the  title  of  Grand-master  of  the  Order  of  Saint  John 
of  Jerusalem  to  that  of  Emperor  of  All  the  Russias, 
held  chapters,  distributed  commanderies,  and  trans- 
formed his  generals  into  crusading  knights.  Kou- 
chebef  was  grand-admiral  of  the  order;  Sievers, 
grand-hospitaller  ;  and  Flaschlander,  turcopolier. 
The  highest  mark  of  favor  at  the  Russian  court  was 
a  Maltese  cross,  a  commandery,  very  well  endowed, 
for  that  matter,  in  peasant  souls. 

A  certain  coolness  arose  between  Paul  I.  and 
Louis  XVIII.  on  the  subject  of  the  order.  The 
Duke  of  Angoul^me  was  grand-prior  of  France. 
When  the  Czar  apprised  the  young  Prince  of  the 
dignity  he  had  conferred  upon  himself,  the  latter, 
who  regarded  the  proceeding  as  irregular,  evaded 
the  subject  by  saying  that  his  approaching  marriage 
was  about  to  put  him  entirely  outside  of  the  Order 
of  Malta.  This  response  produced  a  very  bad  effect 
in  Saint  Petersburg.  In  order  to  appease  the  Czar,  * 
the  Pretender  suggested  that  it  would  be  well  to 
unite  the  Order  of  Saint  John  of  Jerusalem  to  the 
hospitaller  order  of  Saint  Lazarus,  the  grand-ribbon 
of  which  he  sent  him,  accompanied  by  an  amiable 


MITT  A  V  213 

letter  which  the  Abbe*  Edgeworth  of  Firmont  was 
commissioned  to  deliver.  But  this  attention  did 
not  lessen  the  Czar's  ill- humor.  On  the  contrary, 
it  offended  him  that  he  should  be  offered  the  decora- 
tion of  any  order  except  that  holding  the  first  rank 
in  France.  He  refused  the  ribbon  of  Saint  Lazarus, 
and  it  became  necessary  to  send  him  that  of  the 
Holy  Spirit. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  idea  of  renewing  the 
Order  of  Malta  was  not  so  fantastic  on  the  part  of 
Paul  I.  as  it  may  seem  at  first  glance.  As  has  been 
remarked  by  the  Abbe"  Georgel,  who  was  concerned 
in  the  affairs  of  the  grand-priory  of  Germany,  if 
Malta  were  retaken  as  was  hoped,  its  position  in 
the  middle  of  the  Mediterranean  would  afford  an 
Emperor  of  Russia  who  was  grand-master  efficacious 
means  of  imposing  on  the  Ottoman  court ;  moreover, 
the  advantage  of  being  at  the  head  of  all  the  nobility 
of  Europe  would  considerably  augment  the  influ- 
ence which  the  Russian  Emperors  have  always  been 
ambitious  to  exercise  in  the  political  affairs  of  the 
continent. 

In  reality,  Louis  XVIII.,  as  the  heir  of  Saint 
Louis  and  the  eldest  son  of  the  Church,  was  not 
well-pleased  to  see  a  schismatic  prince  placing  him- 
self at  the  head  of  an  order  whose  history  was 
blended  with  that  of  the  Holy  See.  There  was  a 
latent  rivalry  between  Mittau  and  Saint  Petersburg; 
if  Louis  XVIII.  receiving  not  only  a  dwelling-place, 
but  an  annual  pension  of  200,000  roubles  from  the 


214  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

Czar,  felt  himself  somewhat  humiliated  by  living  on 
the  charitable  subsidies  of  a  foreign  power,  Paul  I., 
on  the  other  hand,  was  occasionally  jealous  of  a 
guest  whose  blazon  was  far  more  illustrious  than  his 
own.  The  Baron  of  Barante,  in  his  Notice  sur  le 
Comte  de  Saint-Priest,  has  made  the  following  obser- 
vation on  this  head:  "The  hospitality  accorded  by 
the  Emperor  Paul  was  in  nowise  sympathetic.  The 
royal  title  was  never  recognized;  no  visit  of  the 
French  princes  to  Saint  Petersburg  was  ever 
authorized;  never  did  the  Emperor  or  his  sons  come 
to  Mittau  to  console  the  exiled  royal  family.  Louis 
was  incessantly  obliged  to  entreat  privileges  or 
ask  for  consideration.  At  Saint  Petersburg  people 
mocked  at  the  etiquette  of  the  little  court  at  Mittau, 
at  the  receptions,  the  royal  Mass,  the  body-guards, 
the  dinner  served  at  two  tables  —  all  of  those  usages 
that  consorted  ill  with  a  humble  position,  and  bore 
too  little  resemblance  to  the  simple,  easy  military 
fashions  of  the  Russian  court,  where  etiquette  is 
reserved  for  great  and  rare  occasions."  It  was  an 
essentially  precarious  hospitality  which  the  daughter 
of  Louis  XVI.  was  to  receive  at  Mittau  after  so 
many  trials  and  disasters  of  every  sort.  A  clear- 
sighted observer  could  already  have  predicted  that 
the  Czar's  enthusiasm  for  Louis  XVIII.  and  the 
French  emigration  would  be  of  short  duration. 


VII 


THE  ARKIVAL   OF   MARIE  THERESE 

LOUIS  XVIII.  had  been  at  Mittau  more  than  a 
year  without  being  able  to  summon  his  wife 
and  his  niece  to  rejoin  him  there.  And  he  desired 
a  reunion  with  his  wife,  who  was  then  under  the 
influence  of  Madame  de  Gourbillon,  though  less 
from  sentiment  than  convenience.  The  Queen,  as 
she  was  called,  demanded  an  establishment  entirely 
out  of  keeping  with  their  common  poverty.  "The 
statement  forwarded  to  M.  de  Villequier  by  M.  de 
Virieu,"  wrote  the  Pretender,  "would  certainly  be 
very  moderate  for  the  Queen  of  France,  but  circum- 
stances oblige  us  to  abridge  it  still  further."  He 
cut  off  three  of  the  persons  named  by  the  Princess 
as  requisite  for  her  service.  Moreover,  Paul  I. 
was  beginning  to  find  that  the  little  court  at  Mittau 
cost  him  too  much.  The  Count  of  Saint-Priest, 
who  had  been  sent  to  Saint  Petersburg  to  ask  for 
increased  supplies,  said  in  a  letter  to  Louis  XVIII. : 
"  Your  Majesty  would  be  amazed  at  the  mean  way  in 
which  this  court  treats  the  affair  of  the  Queen  and 
Madame  Therese  at  Mittau.  It  is  very  unlike  the 
display  got  up  for  Your  Majesty's  journey.  They 

216 


216  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

say  the  Emperor  is  so  annoyed  by  the  large  party  of 
forty-four  accompanying  the  Marshal  of  Broglie  that 
he  has  said:  'Are  we  in  Peru,  or  are  they  on  a 
pillaging  expedition  ?  ' ' 

Through  economy  and  for  other  reasons,  Louis 
XVIII.  was  especially  anxious  to  get  rid  of  Madame 
de  Gourbillon,  whom  he  found  disagreeable.  He 
wrote  to  his  wife,  May  31,  1799:  "If  my  entreaties 
and  our  affection  do  not  move  you,  and  you  can 
resolve  to  compromise  me  with  the  Emperor  of 
Russia,  whom  your  resistance  must  have  given  very 
queer  ideas  about  us  two,  Madame  Gourbillon  may 
come  to  Mittau,  but  I  swear  that  she  shall  not  set 
foot  in  the  palace.  Once  more,  my  dear  friend, 
yield  to  our  affection,  and  let  the  joy  I  shall  expe- 
rience at  seeing  you  again  be  increased,  if  that  is 
possible,  by  this  condescension  on  your  part.  I  feel 
no  hesitation  in  urging  this,  because  it  is  solely 
your  own  interest  that  causes  me  to  speak." 

If  Louis  XVIII.  was  but  moderately  anxious  for 
a  reunion  with  his  wife,  he  was  ardently  desirous 
to  see  his  niece  arrive ;  for  he  thoroughly  understood 
the  prestige  and  poetic  charm  which  the  presence  of 
the  orphan  of  the  Temple  would  diffuse  over  the 
royal  cause  and  the  little  court  of  Mittau.  Already 
there  was  something  legendary  about  the  daughter 
of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette.  She  awak- 
ened an  interest  mingled  with  veneration  wherever 
she  appeared,  and  her  uncle  knew  very  well  that  in 
Russia  as  well  as  in  France,  Switzerland,  and  Aus- 


THE  AEEIVAL   OF  MAEIE   THERESE          217 

tria,  she  would  not  merely  touch  imaginations,  but 
move  hearts.  As  to  the  Duke  of  Angouleme,  he 
was  awaiting  his  young  betrothed  with  extreme 
impatience;  as  early  as  January  9,  1799,  he  had 
written  to  several  £migr£s  to  announce  the  speedy 
conclusion  of  an  event  upon  which  he  declared 
the  happiness  of  his  life  depended. 

The  Queen  arrived  at  Mittau  June  3,  1799.  She 
had  not  seen  her  husband  in  eight  years,  and  the 
pair  were  perfectly  accustomed  to  live  far  apart. 
Madame  de  Gourbillon  did  not  reside  in  the  chateau, 
but  had  a  lodging  in  the  neighborhood. 

The  next  day,  June  4,  occurred  the  long-desired 
reunion  between  Louis  XVIII.  and  his  niece,  Marie 
The're'se.  The  King  set  off  to  meet  her  very  early 
in  the  morning.  The  first  post-house  had  been 
appointed  for  the  rendezvous,  but  the  young  Prin- 
cess travelled  so  fast  that  she  reached  it  before  the 
King,  and  went  further  along  the  highroad  to  meet 
him.  As  soon  as  the  two  carriages  came  near  each 
other,  she  alighted.  Louis  XVIII.  and  the  Duke  of 
Angouleme  did  likewise.  The  young  Princess 
pressed  toward  her  uncle  through  clouds  of  dust, 
and  he,  with  arms  extended,  ran  to  meet  and  press 
her  to  his  heart.  Unable  to  prevent  her  from 
throwing  herself  at  his  feet,  he  hastened  to  lift 
her  up.  "At  last  I  see  you  again,"  she  exclaimed. 
"At  last  I  am  happy.  Watch  over  me,  be  my 
father."  As  the  Count  of  Saint-Priest  wrote  to  the 
Chevalier  Verne"gues:  "Tears  and  sobs  were  the 


218  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 


first  proofs  of  the  profound  sentiments  that  filled 
their  hearts.  The  first  tribute  rendered  to  nature 
and  to  the  memory  of  such  misfortunes  gave  place  to 
expressions  of  the  tenderest  recognition.  Mgr.  the 
Duke  of  Angouleme,  withheld  by  respect,  yet  urged 
forward  by  a  thousand  different  sentiments,  wept 
over  his  cousin's  hand,  while  the  King,  in  the 
deepest  emotion,  and  with  eyes  filled  with  tears, 
pressed  the  Princess  to  his  heart,  and  at  the  same 
time  presented  the  husband  he  had  given  her.  The 
King,  so  good  and  so  worthy  of  a  better  fate,  placed 
thus  between  his  adopted  children,  felt  for  the  first 
time  that  he  might  still  enjoy  some  moments  of 
happiness." 

Louis  XVIII.  had  not  seen  his  niece  since  June 
20,  1791,  at  the  moment  when  the  fatal  journey 
to  Varennes  began.  Eight  years  had  passed  since 
then.  An  accomplished  young  girl  had  succeeded 
to  the  graceful  child.  What  physical  and  moral 
progress !  What  a  soft  and  penetrating  charm !  A 
fair  lily  that  had  survived  a  cruel  storm  might 
have  been  taken  as  an  emblem  by  this  young  virgin 
who  had  suffered  and  wept  so  much,  and  who  bore 
the  marks  of  an  incurable  sadness  on  her  melancholy 
and  affecting  countenance.  The  Count  of  Saint- 
Priest  writes:  "We  admire  in  the  features  and 
bearing  of  Marie  The'rdse,  and  in  her  speech  and 
the  animation  of  her  countenance,  the  loftiness 
and  grace  of  Marie  Antoinette.  France  will  recog- 
nize in  her,  with  joy  as  well  as  sadness,  the  features 


THE  ARRIVAL    OF  MARIE   TUERESE          219 

of  the  unfortunate  Louis  XVI.,  embellished  by 
youth,  freshness,  and  serenity;  and  by  a  happy 
chance,  the  Princess  reminds  one  of  Madame  Elisa- 
beth also." 

Shouts  of  joy  resounded  on  all  sides  when  the 
daughter  of  the  martyr  King  and  Queen  arrived  at 
the  chateau  of  Mittau.  "Everybody  ran,"  says  the 
Abbe*  de  Tressau,  a  witness  of  this  pathetic  scene ; 
"all  coldness  and  disagreements  were  at  an  end;  it 
seemed  a  sanctuary  in  which  all  hearts  were  about 
to  blend.  Hungry  glances  were  fastened  on  the 
Queen's  apartment.  It  was  not  until  after  Marie 
Therese  had  paid  her  respects  to  Her  Majesty  that, 
conducted  by  the  King,  she  came  to  show  herself  to 
our  eyes,  too  drowned  in  tears  to  be  able  to  distin- 
guish her  features."  Louis  XVIII.  led  her  at  first 
to  the  Abbe*  Edgeworth  of  Firmont,  presenting  her 
afterwards  to  the  former  body-guards  of  Louis  XVI., 
saying  as  he  did  so :  "  Here  are  the  faithful  guards 
of  those  whom  we  lament."  Then,  turning  towards 
these  servitors,  as  devoted  to  him  as  they  had  been 
to  his  unfortunate  brother,  he  added:  "At  last  she 
is  ours;  we  will  never  leave  her  again;  we  are  no 
longer  strangers  to  happiness." 

Emotion  reached  its  height  untouched  by  any 
falsity  or  exaggeration,  for  it  had  its  source  in  those 
sentiments  of  morality  and  pity  which  do  honor  to 
the  human  soul.  After  returning  to  her  apartment, 
the  young  Princess  sent  for  the  Abbd  Edgeworth, 
him  who  had  said  to  Louis  XVI.  on  the  steps  of  the 


220  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

scaffold:  "Son  of  Saint  Louis,  ascend  to  heaven." 
When  she  found  herself  face  to  face  with  the  vener- 
able priest  whose  presence  evoked  souvenirs  so  cruel 
yet  so  august,  she  nearly  fainted.  Alarmed,  he 
wished  to  call  for  assistance.  "No,"  she  said,  "let 
me  weep  before  you  alone.  These  tears  console  me." 

"The  royal  family  dined  alone,"  the  Abbe*  de 
Tressau  writes  again,  "and  towards  five  o'clock  in 
the  evening  we  had  the  honor  of  being  presented  to 
Madame.  This  was  our  first  opportunity  to  contem- 
plate her  whole  appearance.  It  seemed  as  though 
heaven  had  wished  to  unite  to  her  freshness  and 
beauty  a  sacred  character  which  should  render  her 
more  dear  and  venerable  to  the  French  people.  Her 
countenance  reminded  us  of  Louis  XVI.,  of  Marie 
Antoinette,  and  of  Madame  Elisabeth.  These 
august  resemblances  are  so  great  that  we  felt  the 
need  of  invoking  those  whom  they  recalled.  These 
souvenirs  and  the  presence  of  Madame  seemed  to 
bring  heaven  and  earth  together,  and  assuredly 
whenever  she  wishes  to  speak  in  their  name,  her 
gentle  and  generous  soul  will  compel  all  sentiments 
to  conform  to  hers." 

And  the  royalist  priest  adds,  in  a  dithyrambic  and 
enthusiastic  style  then  assumed  by  the  courtiers  of 
exile  and  misfortune,  but  which  later  on,  under  the 
Restoration,  was  too  often  employed  by  the  courtiers 
of  fortune :  "  Frenchmen  I  behold  her  whom  you  alone 
can  render  happy  by  returning  to  your  former  vir- 
tues and  your  love  for  your  kings.  Behold  her 


THE  ARRIVAL   OF  MARIE  THERESE          221 

who  asks  to  return  among  you,  in  order  to  be,  in 
union  with  the  King  her  uncle,  the  executrix  of  the 
testament  of  Louis  XVI.,  concerning  which  their 
hearts  are  in  such  accord:  the  pardon  of  injuries. 
She  comes,  her  heart  full  of  tender  and  religious 
sentiments,  to  love  and  console  you  for  your  long 
afflictions.  She  comes  to  ennoble  your  courage  and 
legitimate  your  glory.  She  comes  adorned  by  her 
innocence  and  youth,  her  griefs  and  her  resem- 
blances. She  comes  surrounded  by  that  tribute  of 
good  wishes  due  to  her  from  all  that  is  honest,  loyal, 
sensible,  and  faithful  on  this  earth.  She  comes  like 
the  angel  of  peace  to  disarm  vengeance  and  cause 
the  furies  of  war  to  cease.  Let  your  hearts  recall 
her,  and  you  will  see  your  harbors  open  and  your 
commerce  reborn;  your  children  will  no  longer  be 
torn  from  your  arms  and  led  to  death ;  you  will  find 
repose,  happiness,  and  the  esteem  of  the  universe." 

Marie  The're'se  at  once  became  attached  to  her 
young  betrothed.  Son  of  the  Count  of  Artois  (the 
future  Charles  X.)  and  Marie  The're'se  of  Savoy,  the 
daughter  of  Victor  Amadeus  III.,  King  of  Sardinia, 
Louis  Antoine  de  Bourbon,  Duke  of  Angoul£me, 
was  not  yet  twenty-four  years  old,  having  been  born 
at  Versailles,  August  6,  1775.  Leaving  France 
with  his  father  in  1789,  after  the  taking  of  the 
Bastille,  he  went  to  his  grandfather,  the  King  of 
Sardinia,  at  Turin.  He  left  the  dominions  of  that 
Prince  in  August,  1792,  and  made  a  campaign 
in  Germany  with  Condi's  army.  He  afterwards 


222  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

spent  some  time  at  Holyrood,  near  Edinburgh,  with 
his  father,  whence  he  went  to  his  uncle,  Louis 
XVIII.,  at  Blankenburgh,  and  followed  him  to 
Mittau.  He  was  not  remarkable  for  wit  or  elegance, 
but  he  had  solid  qualities  —  great  courage,  good 
sense,  loyalty,  and  religious  sentiments.  He  under- 
stood and  admired  the  virtues  of  his  betrothed. 
Concerning  him,  Count  d'Avaray  wrote  in  June, 
1799:  "Our  young  Prince  daily  acquires  more  of 
that  deportment  and  dignity  which  he  lacked."  The 
marriage,  for  which  the  preparations  were  nearly 
concluded,  was  to  be  like  a  rainbow  to  the  little 
court  of  Mittau,  making  its  appearance  after  a  suc- 
cession of  storms. 


VIII 

THE  MARRIAGE 

daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  arrived  at  Mittau 
JL  June  4,  1799.  Her  marriage  was  celebrated 
six  days  later,  June  10.  We  are  indebted  for  the 
unpublished  documents  we  are  about  to  cite  to  the 
courtesy  of  M.  Ernest  Daudet,  who  is  not  only  one 
of  our  best  novelists,  but  a  historian  as  conscientious 
as  he  is  remarkable.  He  has  composed  an  important 
work  on  the  Bourbons  and  Russia  during  the  emigra- 
tion, and  has  selected  in  the  imperial  archives  of 
Saint  Petersburg  and  Moscow  the  documents  he  has 
kindly  communicated  to  us. 

Two  days  after  her  arrival,  Marie  The're'se  wrote 
the  following  letter  to  the  Emperor  Paul :  "  Mittau, 
June  6,  1799.  Sire,  at  the  court  of  Vienna  and 
before  myself  becoming  the  object  of  the  sentiments 
of  Your  Imperial  Majesty,  my  heart  shared  all  the 
obligations  owed  by  the  King,  my  uncle,  and  a  part 
of  my  family  to  your  kindness,  as  well  as  the  eternal 
gratitude  due  to  you  by  so  many  titles.  On  enter- 
ing your  dominions  and  finding  such  proofs  of  your 
interest  in  me,  my  heart  feels  the  need  of  expressing 
to  Your  Majesty  the  sentiments  which  inspire  it. 

223 


224  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

It  is  to  you  that  my  relatives  owe  a  royal  shelter,  a 
noble  and  active  interest  in  their  fate,  and  effica- 
cious alleviations  of  their  griefs.  If  I,  on  rejoining 
my  family,  am  about  to  accomplish  the  sacred  will 
of  the  authors  of  my  being,  this  again  is  a  benefit 
due  to  our  magnanimous  protector.  Such  are  at 
once  the  motives  and  the  guarantees  of  the  entire 
confidence  and  lively  gratitude  I  have  vowed  to 
Your  Majesty,  whom  I  entreat  to  accept  this  expres- 
sion of  them.  With  the  profoundest  respect  for  your 
Imperial  Majesty,  I  am  your  most  affectionate  sister 
and  cousin." 

Sixteen  years  before,  the  Grand  Duke  Paul,  heir- 
apparent  of  Russia,  travelling  in  France  under  the 
name  of  Count  du  Nord,  had  regretfully  left  the 
court  of  Versailles,  where  he  had  received  a  most 
delightful  hospitality.  He  had  been  struck  by  the 
pretty  ways  of  the  future  Duchess  of  Angouleme, 
then  in  her  fourth  year,  and  at  the  moment  of  part- 
ing she  had  said  to  him:  "I  will  go  to  see  you." 
What  terrible  events  had  brought  about  the  fulfil- 
ment of  this  promise ! 

Louis  XVIII. 's  protestations  of  gratitude  to  the 
Czar  bordered  on  humility.  He  wrote  to  him  on 
May  18 :  "  Monsieur  my  Brother  and  Cousin,  I  can- 
not see  the  moment  approaching  when  the  marriage 
of  my  nephew  with  my  niece  will  be  celebrated, 
without  again  reminding  myself  that  it  is  wholly 
to  your  Imperial  Majesty  that  I  owe  this  greatly 
desired  event.  My  lively  gratitude  inspires  me  to 


THE    MARRIAGE  225 


endeavor  to  preserve  the  souvenir  of  it  for  posterity 
by  praying  Your  Imperial  Majesty  to  allow  the  act 
which  is  about  to  unite  my  children  to  be  deposited 
in  the  archives  of  this  Empire,  in  any  place  Your 
Imperial  Majesty  may  be  pleased  to  indicate,  in 
order  to  serve  as  an  eternal  testimony  of  the  gen- 
erous hospitality  and  constant  support  which  my 
family  and  I  have  received  from  Your  Imperial 
Majesty  in  our  afflictions.  I  hope  that  Your  Majesty 
will  be  so  good  as  to  acquaint  me  with  your  inten- 
tions in  this  respect.  I  desire  extremely,  moreover, 
that  the  signature  of  Your  Imperial  Majesty  should 
imprint  the  seal  of  good  fortune  upon  this  act;  but 
the  dread  of  being  indiscreet  causes  me  to  abstain 
from  preferring  a  formal  request,  although  the  grant- 
ing of  it  would  greatly  increase  my  satisfaction.  I 
beg  to  assure  Your  Imperial  Majesty  of  the  vivacity 
of  the  sentiments  with  which  I  am,  Monsieur,  my 
Brother  and  Cousin,  Your  Imperial  Majesty's  good 
brother  and  cousin." 

The  royal  family  was  represented  by  only  four 
persons  at  the  marriage:  Louis  XVIII.,  his  wife, 
the  Duke  of  Angouleme,  and  Marie  The'rdse  of 
France,  who,  when  a  young  girl,  was  called  Madame 
Royale.  The  father  of  the  Duke  of  Angouleme,  the 
Count  of  Artois  (the  future  Charles  X.),  who  as 
the  brother  of  Louis  XVIII.  was  styled  Monsieur, 
had  been  unable  to  come  to  Mittau  on  account  of 
his  anxiety  to  remain  near  France,  where  the  royal- 
ists were  then  deluding  themselves  with  the  idea 


226  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

that  coming  events  would  prove  favorable  to  their 
cause.  The  Countess  of  Artois,  his  wife,  was  pre- 
vented from  going  to  Russia  by  the  state  of  her 
health.  The  young  Duke  of  Berry,  younger  brother 
of  the  Duke  of  Angouleme,  was  marching  under 
the  banners  of  Conde",  then  crossing  Europe  with  a 
Russian  army  to  fight  against  the  troops  of  France. 
The  Count  of  Artois  had  given  his  consent  to  his 
son's  marriage  with  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI. 
more  than  three  years  before.  It  was  expressed  in 
the  following  letter,  dated  at  Edinburgh,  April  20, 
1796,  and  addressed  by  the  future  Charles  X.  to  his 
brother,  Louis  XVIII. :  "Sire,  my  Brother  and  Lord, 
I  entreat  Your  Majesty  to  receive  kindly  the  hom- 
age of  my  lively  and  respectful  gratitude  for  the 
consent  you  have  been  so  good  as  to  grant  to  the 
marriage  of  my  eldest  son,  the  Duke  of  Angouleme, 
with  Madame  The're'se,  daughter  of  the  late  King 
our  brother,  and  for  all  the  pains  you  have  taken 
with  a  view  to  form  and  hasten  a  union  so  suitable 
in  all  respects  and  so  calculated  to  assure  the  happi- 
ness of  the  two  spouses.  My  entire  confidence  in 
Your  Majesty  is  a  sentiment  dictated  by  my  heart  as 
well  as  by  my  duty.  Hence  I  dare  entreat  you  to 
allow  me  to  leave  entirely  to  your  affection  for  me 
and  for  the  young  couple  the  care  of  fixing  the  place 
and  epoch  of  the  marriage  and  regulating  all  its 
conditions.  Your  Majesty's  service  obliging  me  to 
remain  at  a  distance  from  you  for  the  time,  I  beg 
you  to  approve  of  my  binding  myself  by  letter  to 


THE    MARRIAGE  227 


ratify  beforehand  all  that  Your  Majesty  may  think 
it  right  to  regulate  and  arrange  for  this  marriage, 
and  to  ratify  it  afterwards  by  my  signature.  Heaven 
will  bless  a  union  consecrated  by  our  misfortunes, 
and  the  family  of  which  Your  Majes'ty  is  the  head 
will  receive  the  only  consolation  of  which  it  is 
susceptible.  Nothing  remains  except  to  entreat 
Your  Majesty  to  deign  to  consider  the  young 
spouses  as  your*  own  children,  and  to  believe  that 
every  faculty  of  my  heart  and  soul  will  be  hereafter 
at  your  service  even  unto  death.  With  the  pro- 
foundest  respect,  I  am,  Sire,  my  brother  and  lord, 
of  Your  Majesty  the  very  humble,  very  obedient, 
and  very  affectionate  brother,  subject,  and  servant, 
—  CHARLES-PHILIPPE." 

The  papal  dispensation  necessary  for  a  marriage 
between  cousins-gennan  had  been  accorded  by  Pius 
VI.,  February  3,  1796. 

The  nuptial  benediction  was  given  to  the  youth- 
ful pair,  June  19,  1799,  in  one  of  the  galleries  of 
the  palace  of  Mittau,  by  Cardinal  Montmorency- 
Laval,  Grand-Almoner  of  France.  An  altar  had 
been  arranged  in  the  gallery  adorned  by  green 
boughs  and  lilacs  interwoven  with  lilies  and  roses. 
The  nobility  of  Courland,  the  Roman  Catholic 
clergy  of  Mittau,  and  the  principal  inhabitants  of 
the  town  were  present  at  the  ceremony,  as  well  as 
M.  de  Driensen,  the  civil  governor,  M.  de  Fersen, 
the  military  governor,  the  Greek  Catholic  priest,  and 
the  Lutheran  minister.  Louis  XVIII. ,  escorted  by 


228  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANOOULEME 

his  body-guards  and  his  entire  court,  gave  his  niece 
his  arm.  Near  the  prie-dieu  of  the  Princess  stood 
the  Abb£  Edgeworth  of  Firmont,  Louis  XVI.  's  con- 
fessor. The  graceful  and  touching  beauty  of  the 
bride,  the  memory  of  her  father,  her  mother,  and  her 
aunt  —  the  presence  of  the  priest  who  had  said  at 
the  foot  of  the  scaffold  of  January  21 :  "  Son  of  Saint 
Louis,  ascend  to  heaven ! "  —  the  emotion  of  the 
exiled  King,  the  tears  of  the  courtiers  of  misfortune, 
all  contributed  to  give  the  ceremony  a  grandiose  and 
pathetic  character. 

The  marriage  certificate  began  thus:  "Year  one 
thousand  seven  hundred  and  ninety-nine,  the  nine- 
teenth day  of  the  month  of  June,  answering  to  the 
thirtieth  of  the  month  of  May  of  the  style  followed 
in  the  Russian  Empire.  We,  Louis  Joseph  de 
Montmorency-Laval,  first  Christian  Baron,  Cardinal- 
Priest  of  the  Holy  Roman  Catholic  Church,  Bishop 
of  Metz,  Prince  of  the  Holy  Empire,  Commendatory 
Abbot  of  the  Abbeys  of  Saint  Lucien  of  Beauvais, 
Grand-Almoner  of  France,  Commander  of  the  Order 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  etc.,  etc.  By  the  authority  of  a 
brief  from  our  Holy  Father  the  Pope  granting  a  dis- 
pensation from  the  impediment  of  consanguinity, 
the  said  brief  recognized  as  authentic  and  visaed  by 
the  Very  Reverend  Francis  Xavier  Goldberger, 
provost  of  the  Cathedral  of  Livonia,  Vicar  of  the 
Spirituality  and  of  Canon  Law  for  Livonia  and 
Courland,  and  pastor  of  the  Catholic  parish  of 
Mittau  .  .  .  also  by  the  express  consent  of  the  afore- 


THE  MARRIAGE  229 


said  Very  Reverend  Francis  Xavier  Goldberger,  by 
which  he  authorizes  us  to  proceed  to  the  celebration 
of  the  said  marriage  in  one  of  the  halls  of  the  pal- 
ace situated  in  the  said  Catholic  parish  of  Mittau, 
arranged  for  the  purpose,  and  to  bless  it  in  the  form 
prescribed  by  the  Church ;  we,  in  the  aforesaid  hall, 
and  after  the  betrothal  there  celebrated,  have  re- 
ceived the  mutual  consent  of  the  high  contracting 
parties,  and  have  given  them  the  nuptial  benediction 
with  the  ceremonies  prescribed  by  Holy  Church. 
Present  and  consenting,  the  very  high,  very  powerful, 
and  veiy  excellent  prince  His  Majesty  the  King, 
in  his  said  high  quality  as  well  as  in  that  of  lawful 
guardian  of  the  bride,  and  commissioned  by  an  act 
under  his  privy  seal  to  declare  the  consent  of  the  very 
high  and  very  powerful  Prince  Monseigneur  Charles 
Philippe  of  France,  Son  of  France,  Monsieur,  brother 
of  the  King,  father  of  the  bridegroom,  which  consent 
the  copy  signed  by  M.  the  Count  of  Saint-Priest, 
Minister  and  Secretary  of  State,  and  sealed  with  his 
seal,  remains  annexed  to  the  present  act;  and  also 
to  declare  the  consent  of  Madame  Marie  The'r.e'se  of 
Savoy,  Madame,  his  mother,  of  which  consent  His 
Majesty  and  the  two  spouses  have  perfect  cogni- 
zance. Present  and  consenting  also,  the  very  high, 
very  powerful,  and  very  excellent  princess  Her 
Majesty  the  Queen." 

Louis  XVIII.  signed,  Louis;  the  Queen,  Marie 
Josephine  Louise;  the  Duke  of  Angouleme,  Louis 
Antoine ;  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme,  Marie  The're'se 


230  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

Charlotte.  The  certificate  was  also  signed  by  the 
witnesses,  who  were:  Louis  de  Rosset  de  Fleury, 
duke  and  peer  of  France,  colonel  of  dragoons  and 
first  gentleman  of  the  King's  bedchamber;  Louis 
d'Aumont,  Duke  of  Villequier,  first  gentleman  of 
the  King's  bedchamber,  lieutenant-general  of  the 
armies  of  His  Majesty;  Francois  de  Guignard, 
Count  of  Saint-Priest,  lieutenant-general  of  the 
King's  armies,  minister  and  secretary  of  State; 
Louis,  Count  of  Mailly,  Marquis  of  Nesle,  first 
equerry  to  Her  Majesty  the  Queen,  marshal  of  the 
camp  and  armies  of  the  King;  Frangois  de  Cosse"- 
Brissac,  Count  of  Cosse*,  marshal  of  the  camps  and 
armies  of  the  King,  captain-colonel  of  the  Hundred- 
Switzers  of  His  Majesty's  Guard;  Antoine  de  Gra- 
mont,  Duke  of  Guiche,  marshal  of  the  camps  and 
armies  of  the  King,  captain  of  the  first  and  most 
ancient  French  company  of  the  King's  body-guards ; 
Antoine  de  Be'ziade,  Count  of  Avaray,  marshal  of 
the  camps  and  armies  of  the  King,  and  captain  of 
the  Scotch  company  of  his  guards;  Henri  Essex 
Edgeworth  of  Firmont,  priest  and  vicar-general  of 
the  diocese  of  Paris,  almoner  and  confessor  to  the 
King;  the  Abbe'  Marie,  priest  of  the  house  and 
society  of  Sorbonne,  former  under-preceptor  of  the 
children  of  the  Count  of  Artois,  and  appointed  first 
almoner  of  Their  Royal  Highnesses.  It  was  signed 
also  by  Cardinal  de  Montmorency- Laval  and  the 
pastor  of  the  Catholic  parish  of  Mittau. 

The  marriage  was  followed  by  a  dinner  at  which 


THE  MAERIAGE  231 


the  most  notable  persons  of  the  court  were  present, 
and  also  M.  Guilhermy,  deputy  of  the  third  estate 
to  the  States-General  of  1789.  Louis  XVIII.  said 
with  emotion  to  the  guests :  "  This  is  the  fSte  of  the 
French  people;  my  happiness  would  be  complete  if 
I  could  have  assembled  here  all  those  who  signalized 
themselves  like  you  by  courageous  fidelity  to  the 
King  my  brother."  On  the  same  day  he  addressed 
the  subjoined  letter  to  the  Czar:  "Mittau,  June 
10,  1799.  Monsieur  my  Brother  and  Cousin,  the 
generous  exertions  of  Your  Imperial  Majesty  have 
had  their  effect:  my  children  were  united  this  morn- 
ing, and  my  gratitude  equals  my  joy  as  I  hasten  to 
announce  this  news  to  Your  Imperial  Majesty,  and 
to  ask  that  your  goodness  may  continue  to  be 
extended  to  a  pair  who  will  owe  all  their  happiness 
to  you.  I  take  the  liberty  of  enclosing  a  letter  from 
my  nephew ;  the  sentiments  he  expresses  in  it  can- 
not be  unknown  to  the  great  soul  of  Your  Imperial 
Majesty,  and  with  all  my  heart  I  add  my  prayers  to 
his." 

Louis  XVIII.  wrote  again  to  the  Emperor  Paul, 
June  13:  "Monsieur  my  Brother  and  Cousin,  I  have 
received,  almost  at  the  same  time,  two  letters  from 
Your  Imperial  Majesty,  of  the  2d  and  the  7th  of 
this  month,  and  I  am  extremely  touched  by  what 
you  so  kindly  say  concerning  the  family  reunion 
and  the  marriage  of  my  children.  This  event  could 
not  have  taken  place  under  happier  auspices,  since 
it  is  under  those  of  Your  Imperial  Majesty,  in  your 


232  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

dominions,  and  by  your  generous  assistance  that  so 
desired  a  union  has  at  last  been  celebrated,  and 
your  victories  have  adorned  the  f£te.  I  have  exe- 
cuted Your  Majesty's  commission  to  the  Queen. 
Penetrated  as  she  must  be  by  the  friendship  of  which 
Your  Imperial  Majesty  has  shown  us  so  many  proofs, 
she  nevertheless  fears  to  render  herself  importunate 
by  expressing  the  sentiments  that  fill  her  heart, 
and  I  have  undertaken  to  be  the  spokesman  of  her 
gratitude."  A  King  of  France  and  Navarre  who 
avows  that  the  Queen  his  wife  fears  to  be  indiscreet 
in  writing  a  letter  of  grateful  acknowledgment, 
certainly  does  not  employ  the  language  of  pride. 

The  Emperor  Paul  I.  signed  the  marriage  certifi- 
cate and  ordered  it  to  be  deposited  in  the  archives  of 
the  Russian  Senate.  Chateaubriand  has  said :  "  Thus 
in  a  foreign  land  and  amid  foreign  religions  was 
performed  a  marriage  one  of  whose  witnesses  was 
the  foreign  priest  who  attended  Louis  XVI.  to  the 
scaffold;  a  foreign  senate  received  the  certificate  of 
celebration.  There  was  no  longer  any  room  for  the 
marriage  contract  of  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  in 
that  treasury  of  charters  where  that  between  Anne 
of  Russia  and  Henri  I.  of  France  had  been  depos- 
ited." 

On  the  wedding  day,  Louis  XVIII.  wrote  a  letter 
to  the  Prince  of  Conde*,  beginning  thus:  "At  last, 
my  dear  Cousin,  one  of  my  most  ardent  wishes  is 
accomplished,  my  children  are  united.  I  find  in 
my  niece,  with  an  emotion  more  readily  felt  than 


THE  MARRIAGE  233 


expressed,  the  blended  traits  of  the  unhappy  authors 
of  her  existence.  This  resemblance,  at  once  so 
sweet  and  so  heart-rending,  makes  her  dearer  to  me 
and  should  redouble  the  interest  she  so  well  deserves 
to  inspire  for  her  own  sake  in  all  Frenchmen.  The 
marriage  was  celebrated  this  morning.  I  hasten  to 
apprise  you  of  it,  being  certain  that  you  will  share 
my  joy." 

The  army  of  Conde*,  in  which  the  Duke  of  Berry 
was  then  serving,  had  arrived  at  Friedek  in  Aus- 
trian Silesia  when  this  letter  from  Louis  XVIII. 
reached  the  Prince.  He  communicated  the  follow- 
ing passage  of  it  to  the  troops:  "Announce  this 
happy  news  to  the  army.  It  cannot  but  seem  a  good 
omen  to  your  brave  companions  at  the  time  when, 
following  in  your  traces,  they  are  about  to  re-enter 
the  career  they  have  so  gloriously  pursued.  Add 
from  me  that  I  begin  to  regain  happiness,  but  that 
it  will  not  be  complete  until  the  day  when  I  shall 
be  able  to  rejoin  them  at  the  post  where  honor 
calls  me." 

Finally,  Louis  XVIII.  addressed  a  circular  con- 
cerning the  marriage  of  the  Duke  of  AngoulSme  to 
his  agents  and  diplomatic  envoys,  in  which  he  said: 
"  This  alliance  overwhelms  me  with  joy ;  but  what- 
ever personal  happiness  it  may  promise  me,  I  rejoice 
far  less  on  my  own  account  than  on  that  of  my 
faithful  subjects.  They  will  see  with  emotion  the 
sole  offspring  of  the  martyr-King,  whom  we  deplore, 
fixed  permanently  near  the  throne.  And  for  my 
part,  when  death  shall  prevent  my  laboring  further 


234  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

for  their  welfare,  I  shall  at  least  have  given  them  a 
mother  who  can  never  forget  her  own  misfortunes 
save  in  rendering  her  children  happy,  and  on  whom 
Providence  has  bestowed  all  the  virtues  and  quali- 
ties necessary  to  success." 

In  spite  of  the  splendor  with  which  the  little 
court  of  Mittau  tried  to  surround  the  marriage  of  a 
daughter  and  a  grandson  of  France,  poverty  —  for 
in  reality  they  had  nothing  to  live  on  but  the  alms 
of  the  Emperor  of  Russia  and  the  King  of  Spain  — 
prevented  the  young  married  pair  from  receiving  or 
offering  rich  presents.  The  Countess  of  Artois  sent 
her  new  daughter-in-law  a  dressing-case.  At  the 
time  of  her  departure  from  Vienna  the  young  Prin- 
cess had  received  from  the  Empress  a  portrait  of  the 
latter,  set  in  diamonds.  The  Archduke  Albert 
offered  her  two  work-tables  with  ten  thousand  florins 
in  one  of  the  drawers.  Whatever  desire  she  may 
have  felt  to  do  so,  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  could 
distribute  no  presents,  because  she  had  no  fortune, 
and  her  marriage  contract  contained  nothing  but 
hopes.  Nevertheless,  she  gave  to  the  Countess  of 
Chanclos,  who  had  been  grand-mistress  of  her  house- 
hold at  Vienna,  a  medallion  worth  four  thousand 
florins,  and  to  Mademoiselle  de  Chanclos,  her  niece, 
an  aigrette  of  diamonds.  Mgr.  de  La  Fare,  Bishop 
of  Nancy,  who  represented  Louis  XVIII.  at  Vienna 
(later  on  he  was  Archbishop  of  Sens,  cardinal,  duke, 
and  peer,  and  first-almoner  to  the  Dauphiness) 
received  a  charming  miniature  of  the  young  Prin- 
cess. This  miniature,  painted  at  Vienna  by  Fuger, 


THE  HARBIAGE  235 


belongs  at  present  to  the  Viscountess  of  Jauze'e,  born 
Choiseul-Goufifiev,  a  woman  distinguished  by  her  wit 
and  talents.  The  orphan  of  the  Temple  is  repre- 
sented in  a  very  simple  costume;  a  black  robe,  a 
fichu  of  white  muslin,  and  a  knot  of  black  taffeta  on 
her  head;  a  medallion  containing  two  miniature 
portraits  of  the  martyred  King  and  Queen  hangs  on 
the  breast  from  a  chain  passing  round  her  neck.  The 
young  Princess,  in  all  the  freshness  of  her  twenty 
years,  has  features  of  an  exquisite  delicacy,  very 
clear  blue  eyes,  extremely  fair  hair,  a  brilliant  color, 
a  small  and  pleasing  mouth,  an  infinitely  gentle 
smile,  and  a  simple,  affecting  expression.  The 
Duchess  of  Angouleme  was  not  pretty  very  long,  but 
at  the  time  of  her  marriage  she  was  ravishing. 

It  is  curious,  but  there  are  women  whom  history 
represents  as  always  young,  others  who  are  always 
old.  If  one  names  Gabrielle  d'Estre'es  for  example, 
or  Mademoiselle  de  La  Valliere,  or  Madame  de  Mon- 
U'span,  the  image  of  a  brilliant  beauty  is  evoked. 
But  if  Madame  de  Maintenon  is  mentioned,  one  usu- 
ally thinks  of  an  old  and  awkward  woman;  the  siren 
who  made  so  many  conquests  in  her  youth  is  for- 
gotten. In  general,  when  reflecting  on  the  Duchess 
of '  Angouleme,  one  imagin  3S  her  with  a  gloomy 
countenance  and  features  hardened  by  age;  the 
period  when  her  young  and  melancholy  beauty  had 
such  a  poetic  charm  that  even  the  most  ardent  repub- 
licans could  not  behold  her  without  a  mixture  of 
tenderness,  sympathy,  and  admiration,  is  too  seldom 
thought  of. 


IX 

THE  END   OF  THE   SOJOURN   AT  MITTAT7 

IF  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  had  married  a 
foreign  prince,  the  crown  of  France  would  have 
lost  its  purest  gem.  The  Duchess  of  Angouleme 
rendered  the  court  in  exile  more  moral,  graver,  and 
more  religious  than  it  had  been.  No  one  forgot 
himself  when  speaking  in  the  presence  of  a  woman 
at  once  so  young  and  so  virtuous.  To  see  her  was 
to  be  edified.  The  court  of  Mittau  was  as  serious 
as  that  of  Coblentz  had  been  frivolous.  Who  would 
have  dared  utter  a  scandalous  word  before  the 
orphan  of  the  Temple  ?  It  would  have  been  unwise 
for  the  Voltairians  to  risk  an  impious  allusion  in 
her  presence.  In  her  the  double  majesty  of  virtue 
and  misfortune  was  still  stronger  than  that  of  birth 
and  rank.  Whether  Frenchmen  or  foreigners,  all 
who  had  the  honor  of  approaching  her  experienced  a 
sentiment  of  profound  veneration.  She  considered 
herself  destined  by  Providence  to  preserve  the  mem- 
ory of  her  parents,  the  martyred  King  and  Queen, 
and  every  one  respected  this  vocation,  or,  say  rather, 
this  cult.  Charitable  and  Christian,  the  Duchess  of 
Angouleme  bore  ill-will  to  nobody,  but  she  gave  her 

236 


THE  END   OF  THE  SOJOURN  AT  MITTAU     237 

confidence  and  friendship  only  to  those  whom  she 
thought  worthy  of  her  esteem.  Immoral  persons, 
whatever  their  wit,  social  position,  or  brilliant  qual- 
ities, had  no  standing  with  her.  She  liked  nothing 
but  what  was  honest  and  loyal.  In  her  opinion, 
politics  should  be  based  on  right,  justice,  and 
morality. 

The  Count  of  Saint-Priest  wrote  to  M.  de  La 
Fare,  June  27,  1799:  "The  young  family  continues 
to  get  along  marvellously  well ;  we  need  only  hope 
to  soon  see  the  fruits  of  it.  Mademoiselle  de  Choisy 
is  very  well  treated  by  the  King  and  others;  she 
seems  content  with  Mademoiselle  de  Se'rent,  her 
companion,  and  with  the  latter's  mother;  the  father 
will  soon  arrive." 

While  at  Vienna,  Marie  The'rese  had  singled  out 
Mademoiselle  Henriette  de  Choisy  among  all  the 
female  £migr£s  residing  in  that  city.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  that  heroic  Marquis  of  Choisy  who 
seized  Cracow  in  the  night  of  February  2,  1772, 
with  twelve  hundred  patriotic  Poles  and  twenty-five 
French  noblemen,  and  held  it  through  a  siege  of 
several  weeks  against  eighteen  thousand  Russians. 
His  two  sons  were  serving  in  Condi's  army.  "It 
would  be  hard  to  find  a  more  virtuous,  more 
esteemed,  or  more  meritorious  family,"  wrote  Mgr. 
de  La  Fare.  Marie  The'r&se  brought  Mademoiselle 
de  Choisy  from  Vienna  to  Mittau  as  a  maid  of 
honor.  Madame  and  Mademoiselle  de  Se'rent,  who 
were  likewise  with  her  at  Mittau,  were  the  wife  and 


238  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Se*rent,  one  of  the  most 
faithful  adherents  of  royalty.  The  Countess  of  La 
Tour  d'Auvergne,  the  Duke  of  Se"rent,  and  the 
Marquis  of  Nesle  also  formed  part  of  the  Duchess  of 
Angouleme's  household. 

At  the  close  of  the  year  1799,  the  court  of  Mittau 
received  a  visitor  who  could  not  fail  to  impress 
painfully  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie 
Antoinette.  It  was  the  Abb6  Georgel,  the  grand- 
vicar,  confidant,  right-hand-man  of  the  sorry  hero 
of  the  necklace  affair,  Cardinal  de  Rohan,  who  had 
been  so  fatal  to  the  unfortunate  Queen.  During  the 
Cardinal's  imprisonment  in  the  Bastille,  the  Abbe* 
Georgel,  acting  as  grand-vicar  of  the  grand-almonry 
of  France,  had  thought  it  his  duty  to  quote,  in  the 
regulations  for  Lent  of  1786,  the  epistle  in  which 
the  captive  Saint  Paul  exhorts  his  disciple  Timothy 
not  to  be  ashamed  of  his  prison,  and  to  break  the 
bread  of  the  Lord  in  his  name  to  the  faithful. 
These  regulations,  posted  up  at  the  doors  and  sac- 
risties of  the  palace  chapel  at  Versailles,  had  given 
scandal.  It  was  claimed  that  in  comparing  the 
prisoner  of  the  Bastille  to  Saint  Paul,  Cardinal  de 
Rohan's  grand-vicar  had  implicitly  compared  Louis 
XVI.  to  Nero,  and  he  was  banished  to  the  provinces. 

The  Abbe*  Georgel  was  in  Fribourg  with  other 
SmiyrSs  in  1799,  when  the  chapters  of  the  grand- 
priories  of  Bohemia,  Bavaria,  and  Germany  ap- 
pointed deputies  to  go  to  Saint  Petersburg  and 
offer  the  homage  of  their  obedience  to  the  new 


THE  END   OF  THE  SOJOURN  AT  MITTAU      239 

grand-master  of  the  Order  of  Malta,  the  Emperor 
Paul  I.  The  Abbe"  Georgel  was  a  member  of  this 
deputation,  aud  passed  through  Mittau  on  his  way 
to  Saint  Petersburg.  He  thus  describes  in  his  Me- 
moirs the  reception  he  met  from  Louis  XVIII. :  — 

"After  Mass  the  King  received  the  deputation  in 
the  audience  chamber;  he  was  surrounded  by  the 
notabilities  of  his  court;  his  face  announced  the 
tranquillity  of  his  soul ;  his  conversation  was  inter- 
esting by  reason  of  the  kind  and  amiable  things  he 
said  to  the  deputies  about  their  families  and  their 
mission.  Louis  XVIII.  had  a  good  deal  of  knowl- 
edge and  intelligence ;  misfortune,  which  is  a  great 
lesson,  especially  for  sovereigns,  had  removed  the 
varnish  of  pedantry  which  people  criticised  at  Ver- 
sailles. He  was  simply  dressed  in  a  blue  coat  and 
red  collar,  the  modest  and  prescribed  uniform  of  his 
entire  court,  in  order  to  save  expense.  His  Majesty 
hud  the  extreme  kindness  to  remember  having  seen 
me  at  Versailles.  After  the  King's  audience  we 
repaired  to  that  of  the  Queen.  On  leaving  her 
apartment  we  were  conducted  to  those  of  the  Duke 
aud  Duchess  of  Angouleme." 

The  daughter  of  Marie  Antoinette  could  not  see 
without  distress  a  priest  who  recalled  such  painful 
memories.  The  Abbe*  Georgel  shall  describe  the 
meeting.  "The  countenance  of  the  Duchess,"  he 
says,  "seemed  to  us  full  of  majesty  and  grace;  on 
seeing  her  my  heart  experienced  a  respectful  emo- 
tion. Hut  T  must  own  that  when  the  Duke  of 


240  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

Se'rent  named  me  to  this  august  Princess,  I  per- 
ceived a  trouble  which  perceptibly  altered  her 
expression.  I  was  struck  with  it;  the  presentation 
was  shortened;  in  reflecting  on  it,  I  thought  that 
my  presence  must  have  recalled  a  trial  in  which  I 
had  been  an  actor,  the  successful  issue  of  which  for 
the  illustrious  accused  had  so  strongly  affected  the 
Queen  her  mother,  that,  considering  herself  offended, 
she  had  induced  the  King  to  become  the  accuser. 
If  I  could  have  foreseen  this,  I  would  have  absented 
myself  from  the  presentation  through  respect." 

However,  the  court  of  Mittau  continued  to  enjoy 
comparative  tranquillity.  The  lords  and  ladies  who 
composed  it  were  found  in  food  and  firing  by  the 
King,  or,  to  speak  more  exactly,  by  the  Czar,  and 
received  an  annual  salary  of  one  hundred  louis. 
They  dined  at  four  o'clock  with  the  King  and 
Queen  and  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Angouleme. 
The  court  appointments  were  held  by  the  Duke  of 
Aumont,  the  Prince  of  Pienne,  the  Duke  of  Fleury, 
the  Count  of  Avaray,  the  Marquis  of  Jaucourt,  the 
Count  of  Cosse"-Brissac,  the  Count  of  La  Chapelle, 
the  Duke  of  Guiche,  and  the  Count  of  Saint-Priest. 
Lack  of  money  was  what  the  court  of  Mittau  chiefly 
suffered  from.  Every  one  felt  that  a  situation  in 
which  all  depended  on  the  caprice  of  foreign  sover- 
eigns was  extremely  precarious.  Paul  I.  gave  Louis 
XVIII.  an  annual  pension  of  two  hundred  thousand 
roubles,  which  he  increased  by  one  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  livres  after  the  arrival  of  the 


THE  END  OF  THE  SOJOURN  AT  MITTAU     241 

Queen  and  Marie  The'r&se.  The  King  of  Spain 
gave  eighty-four  thousand  livres  a  year,  but  with  a 
very  bad  grace.  Concerning  this,  Louis  XVIII. 
wrote :  "  I  own  that  I  have  never  suffered  more  from 
my  poverty;  if  I  consulted  my  own  judgment,  I 
would  send  my  cousin  and  all  his  reals  to  the 
devil."  And  in  a  letter  of  August  25,  1799,  the 
Count  of  Saint-Priest  said  to  Mgr.  de  La  Fare: 
"  The  King  does  not  blame  you  for  having  received 
letters  from  Their  Catholic  Majesties  addressed  to 
the  Count  of  Provence"  (in  order  not  to  embroil 
themselves  with  the  French  Republic,  the  Spanish 
Bourbons  gave  no  other  title  to  Louis  XVIII. ). 
"His  Majesty,  though  much  dissatisfied  with  such 
an  address,  cannot  refuse  the  letters,  his  situation 
forcing  him  to  receive  the  very  meagre  subsidies  of 
the  King  his  cousin,  who  declines  very  flatly  to 
augment  them.  The  Queen  no  longer  writes  to 
him." 

The  Duchess  of  Angouleme,  who  had  the  keenest 
sense  of  her  family  dignity  and  renown,  suffered 
greatly  from  this  state  of  affairs.  To  this  grief  was 
added  that  of  seeing  her  husband  depart  for  the  pur- 
pose of  rejoining  the  Duke  of  Berry  in  Conde*'s 
army.  Before  leaving  Mittau  the  Duke  of  Angou- 
leme wrote  this  letter  to  the  Czar,  dated  August  5, 
1800:  "Sire,  the  moment  having  arrived  for  me  to 
go  whither  honor,  duty,  and  the  service  of  the  King 
my  uncle  call  me,  I  hasten  to  lay  at  the  feet  of  Your 
Imperial  Majesty  the  homage  of  my  lively  gratitude 


242  TIIK  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEM i>: 

for  all  the  favors  with  which  you  have  deigned  to 
overwhelm  me  during  my  sojourn  in  your  empire. 
Forced  to  separate  myself  temporarily  from  the  being 
who  is  dearest  to  me,  I  venture  to  take  the  liberty 
of  recommending  her  to  Your  Imperial  Majesty.  I 
venture  to  hope  that  you  will  permit  me,  if  circum- 
stances and  my  duty  do  not  forbid,  to  return  and 
pass  the  winter  here  with  my  wife.  We  unite  in 
entreating  Your  Imperial  Majesty  to  accept  the 
homage  of  our  respect  and  admiration  and,  if  you 
will  permit  us  to  say  so,  of  our  attachment  to  your 
person,  —  Louis  ANTOINE." 

Accompanied  by  the  Count  of  Damas-Crux  and 
the  Chevalier  Saint-Priest,  the  Duke  of  Angouleiuc 
rejoined  Condi's  army  at  Pontaba,  May  25,  1800. 
Chateaubriand  says :  "  The  army  received  this  other 
heir  of  Saint  Louis  with  transport.  .  .  .  Conde"s 
corps,  forced  to  a  long  and  retrograde  march,  entered 
the  Austrian  army  in  line  on  the  banks  of  the  Inn. 
The  Duke  of  Berry  on  arriving  at  camp  found  them 
in  this  position.  The  meeting  between  the  two 
brothers  was  touching.  The  Duke  of  Berry  was 
serving  as  a  simple  volunteer  in  the  noble  cavalry 
regiment  he  had  formed,  and  of  which  the  Duke  of 
Angouleme  had  taken  command.  Obeying  his  elder 
brother  like  the  meanest  soldier,  he  gave  a  new 
example  of  that  submission  rendered  to  each  other 
by  the  members  of  the  royal  family  in  the  order  of 
heredity:  a  submission  which  not  only  displays  the 
virtues  natural  to  the  Bourbons,  but  which  still 


THE  END  OF  THE  SOJOURN  AT  MITTAU     243 

preserves  the  throne  by  becoming  a  sort  of  authentic 
and  perpetual  confession  of  the  principle  of  legiti- 
macy." (Chateaubriand  wrote  this  ten  years  before 
the  Revolution  of  1830.) 

In  1800,  before  the  battles  of  Marengo  and  Hohen- 
linden,  Louis  XVIII.  deceived  himself  greatly  con- 
cerning the  chances  of  a  restoration  he  thought 
imminent.  He  sent  the  Count  of  Saint-Priest  to 
Vienna  with  long  and  detailed  instructions  begin- 
ning thus:  "Mittau,  May  26,  1800.  I  am  so  con- 
vinced that  upon  the  recognition  of  my  royal  title  by 
the  belligerent  Powers,  on  my  drawing  nearer  to  the 
frontiers  of  my  realm,  and  especially  on  my  activity, 
depends  the  conclusion  of  the  most  fatal  revolution 
of  which  history  offers  an  example,  that  I  do  not 
hesitate  to  deprive  myself  temporarily  of  the  services 
of  the  Count  of  Saint-Priest  and  charge  him  to 
go  and  treat  of  these  important  points  with  the 
ministers  of  His  Imperial  and  Royal  Majesty. 
Nevertheless  I  should  not  have  confided  this  mission 
to  him  if  I  had  not  wished  to  give  more  formality  to 
the  agreement  that  will  result  from  it,  by  charging 
the  man  in  whom  I  place  most  confidence  to  sign  it 
in  my  name. 

"I  charge  M.  the  Count  of  Saint-Priest,  then,  to 
induce  the  Emperor,  my  nephew,  to  recognize  me 
as  King  of  France  and  Navarre,  and  to  consent  that, 
bearing  this  title,  I  shall  go  in  person  to  his  army 
in  Italy,  or,  if  His  Imperial  and  Royal  Majesty 
prefers,  to  the  auxiliary  corps  of  Piedmontese  com- 


244  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

manded  by  ray  brother-in-law,  the  Duke  of  Aosta. 
Let  it  be  understood  that  I  ask  for  no  command.  I 
desire  only  to  be  where  I  can  rally  my  faithful  or 
repentant  subjects  to  my  side,  and  combat  those 
who  persist  in  their  aberration.  The  position  of  a 
volunteer  in  the  allied  army  would  suffice  me  for  this 
end.  I  would  consent,  however,  yielding  to  neces- 
sity, that  my  activity  should  be  temporarily  sus- 
pended, if  for  reasons  which  I  cannot  foresee,  it  is 
judged  to  be  as  yet  impracticable;  but  then  His 
Imperial  Majesty,  while  authentically  recognizing 
my  royal  title,  should  indicate  a  town  in  Piedmont, 
in  the  state  of  Genoa,  or  in  Tuscany,  where  I  could 
repair  and  hold  myself  in  the  closest  possible  prox- 
imity to  events,  remaining  always  at  liberty  to  go 
towards  that  part  of  my  kingdom  where  I  should 
judge  my  presence  to  be  necessary.  In  fine,  if  the 
recognition  of  my  royal  title  does  not  take  place 
immediately,  the  court  of  Vienna  should  at  least 
promise  to  proclaim  it  in  a  near  future  to  be  deter- 
mined by  the  success  of  the  war." 

M.  de  Barante,  in  his  notice  on  the  Count  of 
Saint-Priest,  has  severely  criticised  the  royal  in- 
structions: "These  documents  are  curious,"  he  says. 
"  In  them  Louis  XVIII.  shows  himself  greatly  con- 
cerned for  his  royal  dignity  and  the  honor  of  France. 
Certainly,  these  sentiments  were  sincere,  but  they 
are  expressed  in  such  a  manner  that  they  cause 
astonishment  by  their  ignorance  of  France  and  Eu- 
rope, by  their  inert  confidence  in  the  force  of  divine 


THE  END   OF  THE  SOJOUEN  AT  MITTAU     245 

right,  and  their  miserable  dependence  on  foreign 
Powers.  Hence,  this  ro}ral  arrogance,  this  patriotic 
movement,  go  so  wide  astray  that  they  neither  prove 
energy  nor  veritable  pride.  To  estimate  the  worth 
of  these  instructions  it  suffices  to  add  that  M.  de 
Saint-Priest,  who  carried  them,  reached  Vienna  on 
the  day  before  the  news  of  the  battle  of  Marengo 
arrived.  The  principal  request  of  Louis  XVIII. 
was  that  Austria  should  authorize  him  to  repair  to 
her  army  in  Italy;  she  had  just  lost  all  Italy." 

The  loss  of  the  battle  of  Marengo  by  the  Austrians 
brought  on  an  armistice  which  on  different  occasions 
was  prolonged  until  October  20,  1800.  Condi's 
army,  stationed  on  the  Inn,  defended  the  passage  of 
this  river  from  Wissemburg  to  Neubeieren.  A 
skirmish  took  place  at  Ravenheim,  December  1. 
According  to  Chateaubriand,  the  Prince  of  Conde* 
was  obliged  to  use  his  authority  to  make  the  two 
Princes  retire,  as  they  were  uselessly  exposing 
themselves:  a  soldier  close  by  the  elder  had  been 
struck  by  a  ball.  The  author  of  the  Crenie  du 
Christianisme  adds  this  really  singular  remark: 
"Two  days  later,  the  battle  of  Hohenlinden  was 
gained  by  a  general1  who  wanted  to  acquire  great 
renown  in  order  that  he  might  lay  it  at  the  feet  of 
his  legitimate  King." 

The  check  received  by  the  Coalition  had  indefi- 
nitely adjourned  the  expectations  of  the  court  of 
Mittau.  Paul  I.  was  disgusted  with  his  allies.  He 

1  Moreau. 


246  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

would  not  fight  against  France  any  longer.  He 
became  infatuated  with  the  First  Consul,  and  was 
about  to  show  himself  as  hostile  to  Louis  XVIII. 
as  he  had  at  first  been  well  disposed.  The  moment 
was  at  hand  when  the  little  court  of  Mittau  would 
be  driven  out  of  the  Russian  Empire. 


THE  DEPARTURE  FROM  MITTAU 

LOUIS  XVIII.  'S  cause  seemed  desperate.  The 
First  Consul  was  at  the  summit  of  glory. 
The  continental  Powers  emulated  each  other  in  their 
assiduous  attentions  to  him.  The  Czar's  admiration 
was  enthusiastic.  Deceived  in  all  his  expectations, 
the  heir  of  Louis  XVI.  was  about  to  be  driven  out 
of  Mittau  like  an  outlaw,  like  a  pariah,  and  his 
faithful  attendants  to  be  reduced  to  beggary.  With- 
out money  and  shelterless,  he  wandered  miserably 
about,  living  on  alms,  and  subject  to  the  caprices  of 
his  temporary  hosts.  After  the  inexpressible  afflic- 
tions of  captivity  in  the  Temple,  Marie  The'rese  was 
to  endure  those  of  exile  in  their  most  rigorous  and 
painful  form.  Her  truly  intrepid  soul  did  not  sink 
under  the  weight  of  these  new  trials. 

How  was  it  that  the  profound  sympathy  enter- 
tained for  Louis  XVIII.  by  the  versatile  Paul  I. 
had  been  transfigured  into  absolute  aversion  ?  Why 
did  he  regard  his  former  enemies  with  affection  and 
his  former  allies  with  hatred?  How  could  he  pub- 
licly drink  the  health  of  the  First  Consul  and  fill  his 
apartments  with  portraits  of  the  victor  of  Marengo  ? 

247 


248  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

The  chief  cause  of  this  unexpected  change  was  the 
Czar's  dissatisfaction  with  the  conduct  of  his  former 
allies.  He  attributed  to  them  the  defeat  of  the 
Russian  army  at  Zurich  and  the  capitulation  of  the 
Russian  and  English  troops  that  had  landed  in 
Holland.  He  reproached  himself  for  having  placed 
his  soldiers  at  the  service  of  a  coalition  from  which 
he  got  nothing  but  reverses  in  return,  and  he  prom- 
ised himself  to  consult  only  Russian  interests  there- 
after. On  the  other  hand,  the  glory  of  the  young 
victor  of  the  Pyramids  had  impressed  his  ardent 
and  excitable  imagination.  Bonaparte,  turning  this 
mood  very  cleverly  to  his  own  advantage,  found 
means  to  subjugate  the  Czar  completely.  There 
were  six  or  seven  thousand  Russian  prisoners  in 
France  whom  it  had  been  impossible  to  exchange, 
as  Russia  had  no  French  prisoners.  The  First  Con- 
sul caused  these  Russians  to  be  armed  and  uniformed 
in  their  sovereign's  colors.  He  returned  their 
officers,  their  weapons,  and  their  flags,  and  sent 
them  back  to  their  Emperor  without  conditions. 
He  added  that  this  was  a  mark  of  consideration  on 
his  part  for  the  Russian  army,  which  the  French  had 
learned  to  know  and  respect  on  the  field  of  battle. 

Another  of  Bonaparte's  proceedings  with  regard 
to  the  Emperor  Paul  was  a  real  stroke  of  genius. 
Knowing  that  the  island  of  Malta,  an  ephemeral 
conquest  to  France,  could  not  hold  out  long  against 
the  British  fleets,  and  that,  being  strictly  blockaded, 
it  would  be  obliged  to  surrender  to  the  English 


THE  DEPASTURE  FROM  M1TTAU  249 

through  lack  of  provisions,  he  took  the  notion  of 
giving  it  to  the  Czar.  Such  a  present  went  straight 
to  the  heart  of  a  sovereign  who  valued  his  title  as 
Grand-Master  of  the  Order  of  Malta  as  highly  as 
his  title  of  Emperor  of  all  the  Russias.  Over- 
whelmed with  joy,  Paul  I.  ordered  a  Finnish  officer, 
M.  de  Sprengporten,  to  place  himself  at  the  head  of 
the  Russian  prisoners  in  France,  and  go  with  them 
to  take  possession  of  the  island  of  Malta  from  the 
hands  of  the  French.  But  while  all  this  was  going 
on,  the  English  seized  the  island.  The  Czar 
demanded  its  restitution.  They  refused  it.  The 
irascible  Emperor  avenged  himself  by  laying  an 
embargo  on  English  vessels,  three  hundred  of  which 
were  seized  at  one  time  in  the  ports  of  his  Empire, 
and  by  causing  a  declaration  to  be  signed,  December 
26,  1800,  by  Russia,  Sweden,  and  Denmark,  in 
which  the  three  Powers  bound  themselves  to  main- 
tain the  principle  of  the  rights  of  neutrals  against 
England,  even  by  force  of  arms. 

Having  become  the  ally  of  Bonaparte  and  the 
adversary  of  England  and  Austria,  Paul  I.  troubled 
himself  no  further  about  the  Bourbons.  The  Prince 
whom  he  but  lately  styled  his  august  senior  now 
seemed  merely  an  importunate  and  inconvenient 
guest.  The  First  Consul  did  not  need  to  ask  the 
Czar  to  banish  him.  The  Emperor  Paul  volun- 
tarily expelled  him  and  treated  him  most  severely. 
Bonaparte  did  not  require  so  much.  Possibly  he 
would  even  have  preferred  that  Louis  XVIII.  should 


250 


remain  in  Russia  than  to  have  him  in  close  proxim- 
ity to  France.  But  Paul  I.  would  hear  nothing 
further  of  the  Pretender  who  stood  in  the  way  of  his 
new  policy,  and  whose  support  at  Mittau  seemed  to 
him  a  useless  expense.  Acting  violently,  according 
to  his  habit,  he  had  the  order  of  expulsion  made 
known  to  him  with  a  rudeness  that  approached  bru- 
tality. He  began  by  banishing  Louis  XVIII.  's 
representative,  M.  de  Caraman,  from  Saint  Peters- 
burg, where  he  had  been  received  in  the  most  cordial 
manner,  but  whence  he  was  brusquely  expelled 
without  the  least  excuse  or  explanation. 

M.  de  Caraman  arrived  unexpectedly  at  Mittau, 
having  had  no  time  to  forewarn  Louis  XVIII.  of  the 
changes  that  had  been  effected  at  Saint  Petersburg. 
He  has  recounted  the  details  of  the  expulsion  of  the 
Pretender  and  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme  in  some 
curious  unpublished  Memoirs  now  in  possession  of 
the  present  Duke  of  Caraman. 

On  January  20,  1801,  the  eve  of  the  anniversary 
of  Louis  XVI.  's  death,  the  daughter  of  the  martyr- 
King  was  in  her  oratory,  preparing  to  make  her 
communion  on  the  following  day  in  memory  of  her 
father.  Suddenly  General  Driesen,  the  military 
governor  of  Mittau,  presented  himself  before  Louis 
XVIII.  and  announced  that  his  pension  was  with- 
drawn and  that  he  must  instantly  leave  the  Russian 
Empire.  The  passports  with  which  he  was  fur- 
nished did  not  even  style  him  the  Count  of  Pro- 
vence. He  was  called  the  Count  of  Lille  and 
treated  as  a  private  person. 


THE  DEPARTURE  FROM  MITTAU  251 

The  Pretender  received  the  Russian  general 
calmly.  "Being  at  Mittau  through  the  generosity 
of  the  Emperor,"  said  he,  "I  am  ready  to  depart  as 
soon  as  his  sentiments  change  toward  me."  Then, 
as  if  struck  by  a  painful  memory,  he  reminded  the 
general  of  the  day  of  the  month,  saying  that  the 
morrow  was  the  anniversary  of  the  martyrdom  of 
King  Louis  XVI.,  his  brother,  and  that  when  this 
period  arrived,  the  Duchess  of  Angoul^me  remained 
shut  up  in  her  apartments,  devoting  herself  to  re- 
ligious duties  whose  only  witness  was  the  Abbd 
Edgeworth  of  Firmont,  her  father's  confessor,  who 
had  accompanied  him  on  the  scaffold. 

"Louis  XVIII.,"  adds  M.  de  Caraman,  "asked 
General  Driesen  if  it  was  necessary  to  deprive  his 
august  and  unfortunate  niece,  whom  he  called  his 
daughter,  of  her  last  remaining  consolation  by  tear- 
ing her  from  her  pious  occupations.  The  general, 
greatly  moved  by  such  a  scene,  bowed  without  ven- 
turing to  reply,  and  went  away,  leaving  the  King  a 
prey  to  the  anxiety  caused  by  the  duties  he  had  to 
fulfil." 

Summoning  all  his  courage,  the  Pretender  went 
to  the  apartments  of  his  niece  and  apprised  her  of 
the  Emperor  Paul's  determination.  The  Princess, 
without  seeming  disturbed,  asked  if  the  orders  were 
so  rigorous  as  to  demand  the  sacrifice  of  the  two 
days  devoted  to  her  father's  memory.  Louis  XVIII. 
replied  that  they  would  not  start  until  January  22, 
and  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  returned  to  her 
prayers. 


252  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

As  soon  as  the  news  of  the  expulsion  was  made 
known,  the  Pretender's  attendants  gave  way  to 
despair.  What  was  to  become  of  the  veterans  who 
acted  as  his  body-guards?  On  learning  that  they 
were  not  to  follow  their  master,  they  could  not 
restrain  their  tears.  The  anniversary  of  the  execu- 
tion of  Louis  XVI.  was  spent  in  sorrowful  medita- 
tions. The  departure  took  place  January  22.  The 
King  and  his  niece  had  been  authorized  to  take  only 
six  persons  with  them.  Those  who  were  left  behind 
were  in  great  distress.  The  fugitive  sovereign 
wished  to  bid  them  adieu,  but  his  voice  was  stifled 
by  sobs. 

Two  carriages  were  awaiting  the  Pretender  and 
his  niece.  They  set  off  toward  the  Russian  frontier, 
accompanied  by  the  Count  of  Avaray,  the  Abbe* 
Edgeworth  of  Firmont,  the  Duchess  of  Se"rent,  the 
Viscount  of  Hardouineau,  and  two  domestics.  It 
was  bitter  cold,  and  it  was  necessary  to  cross  the 
wide  Lithuanian  plains,  covered  with  ice  and  snow. 
The  first  day,  after  travelling  eight  leagues,  the 
fugitives  found  hospitality  with  a  Courland  noble- 
man, the  Baron  of  Koyt.  At  Frauenburg,  on  the 
following  day,  they  were  obliged  to  take  shelter  in 
a  tavern  thronged  by  drunken  peasants.  The  third 
day  was  terrible.  A  bitter  storm  was  raging.  A 
furious  wind,  driving  clouds  of  snow  before  it, 
frightened  the  horses  and  blinded  the  drivers.  Louis 
XVIII.  and  his  niece  were  obliged  to  alight  and 
painfully  make  their  way  through  snow  nearly  a  foot 


THE  DEPARTURE  FROM  MITTAU  253 

deep.  This  was  the  scene  that  furnished  the  sub- 
ject of  an  engraving  clandestinely  distributed  in 
Paris,  representing  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme  con- 
ducting Louis  XVIII.,  who  was  leaning  on  her  arm, 
across  the  snows  of  Lithuania,  with  this  motto  under- 
neath: "The  French  Antigone."  In  the  evening 
the  fugitives  slept  at  an  inn  still  more  wretched 
than  that  of  the  previous  night.  The  next  day  they 
were  hospitably  received  by  a  compassionate  Cour- 
land  nobleman,  the  Baron  of  Jatz.  At  last,  after 
five  days  of  fatiguing  and  painful  travel,  they  arrived 
at  Memel,  a  fortified  town  of  Eastern  Prussia,  where 
they  rested  for  several  days. 


XI 


THE   SOJOURN  IN  PRUSSIA  AND  POLAND 

LOUIS  XVIII.  had  not  had  time  to  provide 
himself  in  advance  with  a  refuge  before  leav- 
ing Mittau.  He  had  turned  at  all  risks  toward  the 
nearest  kingdom  without  knowing  whether  he  would 
be  received.  He  was  doubtful  of  the  sentiments  of 
the  Prussian  court,  which  was  then  on  excellent 
terms  with  the  First  Consul,  and  consequently 
expected  a  very  bad  reception.  On  approaching 
Prussian  territory  he  had  taken  off  all  his  decora- 
tions and  commanded  his  suite  to  do  the  same.  He 
was  travelling  incognito  as  the  Count  of  Lille ;  the 
Duchess  of  Angoul^me  passed  as  the  Marchioness  of 
La  Meilleraye.  The  Queen  was  at  this  period  at 
the  baths  of  Pyrmont  in  the  principality  of  Waldeck. 
At  the  time  when  Louis  XVIII.  arrived  at 
Memel,  he  was  expected  by  no  one,  and  the  Prus- 
sian government  had  given  no  orders  to  receive  him. 
At  Mittau  the  Pretender  bore  a  royal  title  and  lived 
in  a  palace,  with  body-guards  and  the  paraphernalia 
of  sovereignty.  At  Memel  he  was  only  a  proscribed 
person,  hiding  his  royal  dignity  under  a  false  name, 
and  dwelling  in  a  private  house.  "This  is  the 
264 


THE  SOJOUEN  IN  PRUSSIA  AND  POLAND      255 

fourth  time,"  said  the  Count  of  Avaray,  "that  we 
have  not  had  wherewithal  to  live  on  for  two  months. 
Providence  has  come  to  our  aid,  and  I  have  the  same 
confidence ;  it  will  not  abandon  our  master  and  his 
admirable  niece.  She  is  an  angel  whom  heaven  has 
left  him  for  his  consolation.  .  .  .  Ah!  how  well 
the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette 
has  profited  by  the  lessons  and  examples  of  her 
childhood!" 

Louis  XVIII.  had  intended  to  leave  Memel  for 
Koenigsberg  on  February  9,  1801.  He  delayed  his 
departure  for  several  days,  because  several  of  his 
body-guards  arrived  from  Mittau  in  the  evening  of 
February  8.  They  said  they  had  been  ordered  to 
quit  that  town  within  twenty-four  hours,  and  that 
they  would  be  followed  by  their  comrades,  driven 
out  of  the  Russian  Empire  like  malefactors.  These 
unfortunates,  who  were  nearly  all  aged  and  infirm, 
were  reduced  to  poverty.  The  Pretender  said  to 
them :  "  Gentlemen,  it  gives  me  great  consolation  to 
see  you,  but  it  is  mingled  with  very  bitter  sorrow. 
Providence  has  tried  me  long  and  in  many  ways, 
and  this  is  not  the  least  cruel  of  them.  Look,"  he 
added,  pointing  to  his  left  breast,  despoiled  of  his 
crosses,  "I  cannot  even  wear  a  decoration." 

On  the  following  days  the  other  body-guards  were 
presented  to  Louis  XVIII.  in  the  order  of  their 
arrival.  One  of  them,  M.  de  Montlezun,  could  not 
refrain  from  tears.  "My  friend,"  said  the  Prince, 
taking  him  by  the  hand,  "when  one's  heart  is  pure, 


256  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

it  is  at  the  last  extremity  of  adversity  that  a  French- 
man should  redouble  his  courage."  Then,  turning 
to  the  others:  "Yes,  gentlemen,  if  my  courage 
should  abandon  me,  it  is  among  you  that  I  should 
seek  it  and  renew  my  vigor." 

The  Count  of  Hautefort  has  written  in  his  jour- 
nal: "The  King  did  not  limit  his  concern  for  his 
body-guards  to  words  only.  He  gave  them  a  sum 
which  in  his  situation  was  considerable.  The 
Duchess  of  Angouleme  also  sent  one  hundred  ducats 
to  the  Viscount  of  Agoult,  to  be  divided  between 
those  who  were  most  in  need;  she  especially  desired 
that  her  name  should  not  be  mentioned;  but  who 
could  mistake  the  source  of  such  a  benefit?  The 
Viscount  of  Agoult  chartered  a  vessel  and  presided 
over  the  embarkation  of  his  wretched  companions. 
The  King's  finances  being  exhausted  by  the  exor- 
bitant daily  expenses,  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme 
proposed  to  His  Majesty  to  sell  her  diamonds,  an 
offer  which  was  accepted  with  regret;  but  cir- 
cumstances hardly  permitted  a  refusal.  The  Prin- 
cess expressly  authorized  the  Duchess  of  Se*rent  to 
make  the  sale  "in  order  to  assist  my  uncle,  his 
faithful  servitors,  and  myself  in  our  common  dis- 
tress." The  diamonds  were  deposited  with  the 
Danish  Consul,  who  advanced  two  hundred  thou- 
sand ducats  on  the  price  of  the  sale. 

February  23,  Louis  XVIII.  and  his  niece,  fol- 
lowed by  their  fugitive  little  court,  left  Memel  for 
Koenigsberg,  where  they  arrived  the  next  day. 


THE  SOJOURN  IN  PRUSSIA  AND  POLAND      257 

There  they  learned  that  the  King  of  Prussia  con- 
sented to  assign  them  a  residence  in  Warsaw,  but 
under  the  express  conditions  that  the  Pretender's 
suite  should  be  still  further  reduced,  and  that  he 
should  not  assume  the  royal  title,  but  simply  bear 
the  name  of  the  Count  of  Lille.  The  Duchess  of 
Angouleme  had  written  a  touching  letter  to  the 
Queen  of  Prussia,  in  which  she  said,  speaking  of  her 
uncle:  "There  is  more  than  one  voice  that  cries  to 
me  from  heaven  that  he  is  all  for  me,  that  he  takes 
the  place  of  all  I  have  lost,  and  that  I  ought  never 
to  abandon  him.  Therefore  I  will  be  faithful  to 
him,  and  death  alone  shall  separate  us." 

The  fugitives  took  up  their  route  for  Warsaw, 
February  27.  While  on  the  way,  March  2,  Louis 
XVIII. 's  carriage  was  overset  in  a  ditch  while 
trying  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  that  of  a  Polish  lady 
whom  they  met.  The  shock  was  violent,  and  the 
Duchess  of  Angouleme,  in  falling,  broke  one  of  the 
carriage  windows  by  striking  her  head  against  it. 
On  March  6  they  reached  Warsaw  and  took  up 
their  abode  in  the  Vassiliovitch  house,  situated  in 
the  Cracow  faubourg. 

The  Pretender's  cause  seemed  compromised  more 
and  more.  The  treaty  of  LuneVille  had  discouraged 
the  royalists.  Condd's  army,  reduced  to  four  or  five 
thousand  men,  was  disbanded  in  Croatia,  near  the 
Adriatic,  about  twenty  leagues  from  the  Turkish 
frontiers.  "We  were  very  far  from  our  country," 
says  the  Count  of  Puymaigre,  "  when  we  were  forced 


258  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

to  lay  down  our  arms  and  abandon  all  illusions 
concerning  the  result  of  that  great  struggle  between 
France  and  Europe  which,  with  such  different  vicis- 
situdes, had  lasted  for  nine  years.  We  had  learned 
to  comprehend,  through  long  and  cruel  experience, 
how  greatly  the  French  Princes  erred  when  they 
set  up  their  standards  in  foreign  lands ;  and  although 
it  cannot  be  denied  that  we  had  fought  with  a  cer- 
tain glory,  and  that  the  republicans,  whose  opinions 
on  this  head  cannot  be  rejected,  have  rendered  us 
entire  justice,  still  it  was  a  barren  glory." 

The  Duke  of  Angouleme,  who  had  distinguished 
himself  in  Condi's  army,  rejoined  his  wife  at  War- 
saw, March  25,  1801.  A  few  days  later,  it  became 
known  that  the  Emperor  Paul  I.  had  been  assassin- 
ated in  the  night  of  March  23-24.  The  new  Czar, 
Alexander  I.,  showed  sympathy  for  Louis  XVIII., 
and  granted  him  subsidies.  He  even  proposed  his 
return  to  Mittau.  The  Pretender  preferred  to 
remain  for  the  moment  at  Warsaw.  His  position 
there,  however,  was  becoming  difficult  on  account  of 
the  amicable  relations  then  existing  between  the 
Cabinet  of  Berlin  and  the  First  Consul.  The  latter, 
intoxicated  by  his  victories,  thought  he  could  induce 
Louis  XVIII.  to  renounce  his  claims  to  the  throne 
of  France  in  consideration  of  some  pecuniary  or  ter- 
ritorial indemnity.  In  accord  with  the  Prussian 
government,  he  caused  him  to  be  sounded  on  the 
subject  by  M.  Meyer,  president  of  the  regency  of 
Warsaw.  The  Pretender,  having  the  Duchess  of 


THE  SOJOURN  IN  PRUSSIA  AND  POLAND      259 

Angouleme  on  his  right,  received  the  Prussian 
negotiator  with  a  truly  royal  pride.  He  gave  his 
response  in  a  note  concerning  which  Chateaubriand 
has  said :  "  This  note  is  one  of  the  finest  documents 
of  our  history.  While  powerful  monarchs  were 
being  forced  to  abandon  their  thrones  to  the  con- 
queror, a  proscribed  King  of  France  refused  his  to 
the  usurper  who  occupied  it;  the  Roman  Senate  did 
not  make  a  more  magnanimous  act  of  ownership  in 
selling  the  field  where  Hannibal  was  encamped." 

The  declaration  of  Louis  XVIII.  was  worded 
thus :  "  Warsaw,  February  22,  1803.  I  do  not  con- 
found M.  Bonaparte  with  those  who  have  preceded 
him;  I  esteem  his  valor  and  his  military  talents; 
I  thank  him  for  many  administrative  acts,  because 
the  benefits  conferred  on  my  people  are  always 
dear  to  me.  But  he  deceives  himself  if  he  thinks 
he  can  induce  me  to  compromise  my  rights;  far 
from  that ;  he  would  establish  them  himself,  if  they 
could  be  litigated,  by  the  application  he  is  making 
at  this  moment.  I  do  not  know  what  are  the 
designs  of  God  concerning  my  race  and  me;  but  I 
do  know  the  obligations  He  has  imposed  on  me  by 
the  rank  in  which  it  pleased  Him  to  give  me  birth. 
A  Christian,  I  shall  fulfil  these  obligations  until  my 
latest  breath;  a  son  of  Saint  Louis,  his  example  will 
teach  me  how  to  make  myself  respected  even  in 
chains;  a  successor  of  Fran9ois  I.,  I  shall  at  least  be 
able  to  say  like  him :  We  have  lost  all  except  honor. 
Signed:  Louis."  At  the  foot  of  this  declaration 


260  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

the  Duke  of  Angouleme  wrote:  "With  the  permis- 
sion of  the  King,  my  uncle,  I  adhere  with  all  my 
heart  and  soul  to  the  contents  of  this  note.  Signed : 
Louis  ANTOINE." 

The  Count  of  Artois,  the  Duke  of  Berry,  the 
Duke  of  Orleans  and  his  two  brothers,  the  Prince  of 
Conde*  and  the  Duke  of  Bourbon,  all  exiled  in 
England,  sent  Louis  XVIII.  the  following  adhe- 
sion, dated  at  Wansted  House,  April  23,  1803: 
"We  the  undersigned  Princes,  brother,  nephews, 
and  cousins  of  His  Majesty  Louis  XVIII.,  King  of 
France  and  Navarre,  penetrated  with  the  same  sen- 
timents with  which  our  sovereign  Lord  and  King 
shows  himself  so  gloriously  animated  in  his  noble 
response  to  the  proposition  made  him  to  renounce 
the  throne  of  France,  and  to  require  from  all  the 
princes  of  his  house  a  renunciation  of  their  impre- 
scriptible rights  of  succession  to  the  same  throne, 
declare : 

"  That  our  attachment  to  our  duties  and  our  honor 
not  permitting  us  to  compromise  our  rights,  we 
adhere  with  heart  and  soul  to  the  response  of  our 
King; 

"  That  after  his  illustrious  example,  we  will  never 
lend  ourselves  to  the  slightest  transaction  which 
could  abase  the  House  of  Bourbon  and  cause  it  to 
fail  in  what  it  owes  to  itself,  its  ancestors,  and  its 
descendants ; 

"  And  that  if  the  unjust  employment  of  superior 
force  should  succeed  (which  may  God  avert!)  in 


THE  SOJOURN  IN  PRUSSIA  AND  POLAND     261 

placing  in  fact,  but  never  by  right,  on  the  throne  of 
France  any  other  than  our  legitimate  King,  we  will 
follow  with  as  much  confidence  as  fidelity  the  voice 
of  honor  which  bids  us  appeal  from  it  to  God,  to 
the  French  people,  and  to  our  swords." 

Bonaparte's  future  victim,  the  young  Duke  of 
Enghien,  also  sent  in  his  adhesion,  couched  in  these 
words:  "Sire,  the  letter  of  March  5  with  which 
Your  Majesty  has  deigned  to  honor  me,  has  duly 
arrived.  Your  Majesty  knows  too  well  the  blood 
which  flows  in  my  veins  to  have  been  able  to  doubt 
for  a  moment  concerning  the  nature  of  the  response 
you  ask  for.  I  am  a  Frenchman,  Sire,  and  a  French- 
man remains  faithful  to  his  God,  his  King,  and  his 
honorable  oaths.  Many  others  will  perhaps  some 
day  envy  me  this  triple  advantage.  Deign  then, 
Your  Majesty,  to  permit  me  to  add  my  signature 
to  that  of  the  Duke  of  Angouleme,  adhering  like 
him  with  all  my  heart  and  soul  to  the  contents  of 
the  note  of  my  King.  Signed:  Louis  ANTOINE 
HENRI  DE  BOURBON.  Ettenheim,  March  22,  1803." 

Enthusiastic  over  this  language,  Chateaubriand 
exclaims :  "  What  sentiments !  what  a  signature !  and 
what  a  date!  When  one  reads  at  this  epoch  the 
history  of  the  old  France  and  the  new,  which 
existed  at  the  same  time,  one  knows  not  which  to 
be  the  more  proud  of;  heroic  successes  attend  the 
new  France,  heroic  adversities  the  old.  Our  princes 
carried  away  all  the  grandeurs  of  our  country;  they 
left  nothing  but  victory  behind  them." 


262  TUE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

It  was  at  Ettenheim,  on  March  25,  1803,  that  the 
Duke  of  Enghien  signed  his  adhesion  to  the  declara- 
tion of  Louis  XVIII.,  and  it  was  at  Ettenheim,  less 
than  a  year  later,  on  March  15,  1804,  that  he  was 
arrested  by  Colonel  Ordener's  dragoons  to  be  taken 
to  the  castle  of  Vincennes  and  shot  there,  contrary 
to  every  regulation  of  the  rights  of  nations,  on  the 
fatal  night  of  March  20-21.  As  soon  as  she  had 
been  apprised  of  the  murder,  the  Duchess  of  Angou- 
leme  wrote  to  the  Prince  of  Conde*,  the  victim's 
grandfather,  a  letter  in  which  she  said:  "Monsieur 
my  Cousin,  I  cannot  forbear  to  express  my  keen 
sympathy  in  the  sorrow  which  afflicts  you,  and  which 
I  cordially  and  sincerely  share.  In  spite  of  all  I 
have  suffered,  I  could  never  have  imagined  the 
frightful  event  which  plunges  us  into  mourning. 
...  I  am  not  writing  to  the  Duke  of  Bourbon, 
but  I  pray  you,  be  the  interpreter  of  my  sentiments ; 
rely,  I  entreat  you,  on  my  prayers  that,  sustained  by 
your  courage,  your  health  may  bear  up  under  the 
sorrowful  weight  of  our  mutual  and  cruel  loss." 

The  Duke  of  Enghien's  murder  had  proved  how 
greatly  Bonaparte  feared  the  Bourbons,  in  spite  of 
his  immense  power.  One  might  fancy  he  already 
foreboded  the  events  of  1814  and  1815.  The  Pre- 
tender had  written  him,  September  7,  1800:  "You 
must  know,  General,  that  you  have  long  since 
gained  my  esteem.  If  you  doubt  my  gratitude, 
designate  your  place,  determine  the  lot  of  your 
friends.  As  to  my  principles,  I  am  a  Frenchman, 


THE  SOJOURN  IN  PRUSSIA  AND  POLAND      263 

clement  by  character;  I  would  be  still  more  so  by 
reason.  The  victor  of  Lodi,  Castiglione,  and  Arcole, 
the  conqueror  of  Italy  and  Egypt,  must  prefer  glory 
to  a  vain  celebrity.  However,  you  are  losing  pre- 
cious time ;  we  can  assure  the  welfare  of  France ;  I 
say  ive,  because  for  that  I  have  need  of  Bonaparte, 
and  he  can  do  nothing  without  me.  General,  Eu- 
rope has  its  eyes  upon  you;  a  glorious  triumph 
awaits  you,  and  I  am  impatient  to  give  peace  to  my 
people.  Signed:  Louis." 

The  First  Consul  replied :  "  I  have  received  your 
letter,  Monsieur,  and  I  thank  you  for  the  flattering 
things  it  contains.  You  should  not  desire  to  return 
to  France,  for  to  do  so  you  would  have  to  walk  over 
a  hundred  thousand  corpses.  Sacrifice  your  per- 
sonal interests  to  the  repose  of  your  country;  his- 
tory will  recompense  you  for  it.  I  am  not  insensible 
to  the  sorrows  of  your  family,  and  it  would  give  me 
pleasure  to  know  that  you  were  surrounded  with  all 
that  could  contribute  to  the  tranquillity  of  your 
retreat." 

Though  Bonaparte  might  address  the  descendant 
of  Saint  Louis,  Henri  IV.,  and  Louis  XIV.  simply 
as  "Monsieur,"  and  adopt  a  tone  of  disdainful  pro- 
tection toward  him,  yet  he  was  tormented  by  the 
existence  of  this  discrowned  monarch  and  dreaded 
the  future  reserved  for  this  outlawed  exile. 

The  more  improbable  the  chances  of  a  restoration 
became,  the  greater  became  the  lofty  arrogance  of 
the  Pretender's  language  and  the  more  firmly  did  he 


264  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

proclaim  his  confidence  in  divine  right.  Learning 
that  Bonaparte  had  received  the  Order  of  the  Golden 
Fleece  from  the  King  of  Spain  a  few  days  after  the 
murder  of  the  Duke  of  Enghien,  he  hastened  to 
despoil  himself  of  this  order  and  send  it  back  to 
Charles  IV.  with  the  following  letter:  "Monsieur 
my  Brother,  it  is  with  regret  that  I  return  to  you 
the  insignia  of  the  Order  of  the  Golden  Fleece, 
which  His  Majesty  your  father,  of  glorious  memory, 
confided  to  me.  There  can  be  nothing  in  common 
between  me  and  the  great  criminal  whom  audacity 
and  fortune  have  placed  upon  my  throne,  which  he 
has  sullied  with  the  blood  of  a  Bourbon !  Religion 
may  bind  me  to  pardon  an  assassin,  but  the  tyrant 
of  my  people  must  always  be  my  enemy.  In  this 
century  it  is  more  glorious  to  merit  a  sceptre  than 
to  wield  it.  The  mysterious  decrees  of  Providence 
may  condemn  me  to  end  my  days  in  exile;  but 
neither  posterity  nor  my  contemporaries  shall  have 
the  right  to  say  that  in  adversity  I  showed  myself 
for  an  instant  unworthy  to  occupy  the  throne  of  my 
ancestors. " 

Nothing  discouraged  Louis  XVIII. ;  neither  the 
adhesion  of  nearly  the  whole  French  episcopate  to 
the  new  reign,  nor  the  plebiscite  raising  the 
Emperor  to  the  throne,  nor  the  Pope's  consecration 
of  his  crown.  He  protested  against  the  Empire  by 
an  act  dated  at  Warsaw,  June  5,  1804,  which  was 
expressed  in  these  words:  "In  taking  the  title  of 
Emperor  and  proposing  to  make  it  hereditary  in  his 


THE  SOJOURN  IN  PRUSSIA  AND  POLAND      265 

family,  Bonaparte  has  just  set  the  seal  upon  his  usur- 
pation. This  new  act  of  a  revolution  in  which  all 
has  been  invalid  from  the  beginning,  cannot  possibly 
annul  my  rights;  but,  responsible  for  my  conduct 
to  all  sovereigns,  whose  rights  are  not  less  infringed 
than  mine,  and  whose  thrones  are  shaken  by  the 
principles  which  the  Senate  of  Paris  has  dared  to 
advance;  responsible  to  France,  to  my  family,  and 
to  honor,  I  should  think  I  was  betraying  the  com- 
mon cause  if  I  kept  silence  on  this  occasion.  I 
declare,  then,  in  presence  of  the  sovereigns,  that  far 
from  recognizing  the  imperial  title  which  Bonaparte 
has  just  caused  to  be  conferred  upon  him  by  a  body 
which  has  not  even  a  legal  existence,  I  protest 
against  this  title  and  against  the  subsequent  acts 
to  which  it  may  give  rise." 

The  Duchess  of  Angouleme,  with  whom  the  idea 
of  royalty  by  divine  right  was  a  religion,  rejoiced 
in  this  haughty  attitude  on  her  uncle's  part.  She 
would  not  herself  have  written  in  any  other  style. 
It  is  claimed  that  Napoleon,  impressed  by  the  per- 
sistency and  solemnity  with  which  the  Pretender 
asserted  rights  mocked  at  by  so  many  people,  said : 
"The  Count  of  Lille  has  done  well;  he  would  be 
despised  if  he  yielded  without  a  struggle;  a  pre- 
tender ought  always  to  protest;  it  is  the  only  way 
of  reigning  that  is  left  him." 

Napoleon  exerted  such  an  influence  over  the  Prus- 
sian government  at  this  time,  however,  that  Louis 
XVIII.  did  not  find  himself  at  ease  in  Warsaw. 


266  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

He  resolved  to  repair  to  Grodno,  on  Russian  terri- 
tory, in  order  to  concert  measures  with  his  brother, 
the  Count  of  Artois,  which  should  give  his  protesta- 
tions a  more  striking  character.  Just  as  he  was 
about  departing  from  Warsaw,  he  learned  that  an 
attempt  to  poison  him  and  his  family  had  been 
organized.  The  man  who  had  been  tampered  with 
in  order  to  induce  him  to  commit  the  crime,  himself 
revealed  it  to  the  Count  of  Avaray.  The  Pretender 
then  wrote  a  letter  to  the  president  of  the  Prussian 
Chamber  of  Warsaw,  dated  July  24,  1804,  which 
began  thus:  "I  have  been  informed,  monsieur,  of 
an  attempt  made  to  assassinate  me.  If  my  person 
alone  were  in  question,  I  would  turn  a  deaf  ear  to 
such  warnings;  but  as  the  lives  of  my  family  and 
servants  are  likewise  menaced,  I  should  be  derelict 
to  the  most  sacred  duties  if  I  slighted  this  danger. 
I  beg  you,  therefore,  to  come  this  evening  and  talk 
it  over  with  me."  The  Prussian  magistrate,  evad- 
ing the  inquiry,  replied  that  he  would  hand  the 
matter  over  to  the  police,  and  the  bottom  of  this 
underhanded  affair  was  never  known. 

Instead  of  going  to  Grodno,  as  he  had  at  first 
intended,  Louis  XVIII.  proceeded  toward  Sweden 
and  was  joined  by  the  Count  of  Artois  at  Calmar, 
October  5,  1804.  The  two  brothers  drew  up  there 
together  the  manifesto  which  was  to  appear  on  the 
subsequent  December  2,  the  day  of  Napoleon's  coro- 
nation. While  the  Pretender  was  at  Calmar  he 
received,  through  the  intermediation  of  the  Prussian 


THE  SOJOURN  IN  PRUSSIA  AND  POLAND     267 

Minister  in  Sweden,  an  official  note  from  the  Prus- 
sian government  interdicting  him  from  returning  to 
Warsaw.  He  then  asked  the  Emperor  Alexander's 
permission  to  reside  in  Mittau,  and  it  was  granted. 
The  Count  of  Artois  returned  to  England.  Louis 
XVIII.  embarked  at  Calmar,  landed  at  Riga,  and 
went  to  Mittau,  where  his  wife  and  his  niece  did 
not  rejoin  him  until  spring. 


XII 

THE  SECOND   SOJOUEN  AT  MITTAU 

AT  Warsaw  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme  was 
surrounded  by  unanimous  sympathies.  It 
pleased  her  to  be  in  the  midst  of  a  Catholic  popula- 
tion with  whom  she  had  sentiments  and  ideas  in  com- 
mon. One  of  the  Kings  of  France,  Henri  III.,  had 
been  King  of  Poland,  and  the  Princess  was  descended 
from  Marie  Leczinska,  the  daughter  of  a  Polish 
sovereign.  These  souvenirs  aided  the  prestige  of 
the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI. ;  and  the  Polish  nobil- 
ity, who  speak  French  as  well  as  they  do  their 
native  tongue,  paid  her  the  most  delicate  and  respect- 
ful attentions.  The  Princess  did  not  leave  without 
regret  a  land  which  reminded  her  of  France,  for  the 
Poles  have  been  called  the  Frenchmen  of  the  north, 
and  she  returned  with  apprehension  to  Mittau, 
whence  she  had  been  driven  out  four  years  before 
under  such  painful  circumstances. 

At  Mittau  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme  once  more 
installed  herself  with  her  husband,  her  uncle,  and 
her  aunt  in  the  former  palace  of  the  Dukes  of  Cour- 
land.  In  1805  two  fires  broke  out  there.  The 
guilty  persons  were  not  discovered,  but  the  author- 

268 


THE  SECOND  SOJOURN  AT  MITTAU          269 

ities  declared  that  the  fires  had  been  intentionally 
kindled.  This  affair  remained  mysterious,  like  that 
of  the  attempted  poisoning  of  the  royal  family  at 
Warsaw. 

Meanwhile,  the  echo  of  the  noise  of  arms  pene- 
trated even  to  the  asylum  of  Louis  XVIII.  and  his 
niece.  A  bloody  war  desolated  the  country  lying 
between  the  Vistula  and  the  Niemen.  The  terrible 
battle  of  Eylau  was  fought  February  7,  1807.  The 
military  convoys  of  wounded  Frenchmen  or  pris- 
oners were  forwarded  to  Mittau.  Although  a  con- 
tagious fever  broke  out  among  them,  the  Abbe* 
Edgeworth  of  Firmont  went  to  their  assistance. 
He  paid  with  his  life  for  this  devotion ;  but  he  was 
not  abandoned  on  his  deathbed  by  the  daughter  of 
the  martyr-king.  Braving  the  contagion,  she  ex- 
claimed: "No,  I  will  never  forsake  him  who  is  more 
than  my  friend.  Nothing  shall  prevent  me  from 
nursing  him  myself;  I  do  not  ask  any  one  to  go 
with  me."  And  it  was  she  who,  on  May  22,  1807, 
received  the  venerable  priest's  last  sigh. 

Louis  XVIII.  wrote  to  the  Abbe"s  brother:  "The 
letter  of  the  Archbishop  of  Rheims  will  inform  you 
of  the  painful  loss  we  have  just  endured.  You  will 
regret  the  best  and  tenderest  of  brothers.  I  lament 
a  friend,  a  benefactor,  who  conducted  a  martyr-king 
to  the  gates  of  heaven,  and  who  has  taught  me  the 
way  thither.  The  world  was  not  worthy  to  possess 
him  long.  Let  us  submit,  reminding  ourselves  that 
he  has  received  the  reward  of  his  virtues.  But  we 


270  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

are  not  forbidden  to  accept  consolations  of  an  inferior 
order,  and  I  offer  them  to  you  in  the  general  afflic- 
tion which  this  grief  has  occasioned.  Yes,  mon- 
sieur, the  death  of  your  worthy  brother  has  been  a 
public  calamity.  My  family,  and  all  the  loyal 
Frenchmen  who  surround  me,  seem,  like  me, 
to  have  lost  a  father.  The  people  of  Mittau  of 
every  class  and  creed  have  shared  our  sorrow.  May 
this  recital  lighten  your  regrets!  May  I  thus  give 
to  the  memory  of  the  most  worthy  of  men  a  new 
proof  of  veneration  and  attachment!  " 

Eight  days  after  the  Abbe*  Edgeworth's  death,  the 
Emperor  Alexander  arrived  at  Mittau,  May  30, 
1807.  Before  rejoining  his  army,  then  in  camp  on 
the  banks  of  the  Pregel,  and  about  to  renew  the 
struggle  against  Napoleon,  the  Czar  desired  to  pay  a 
visit  to  his  guests.  He  was  very  affable  to  the 
Pretender  and  particularly  courteous  to  the  wife  of 
that  Prince  and  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme.  He 
already  promised  a  Bourbon  restoration  with  the  aid 
of  Russia,  but  lie  was  not  to  keep  his  promise  until 
seven  years  later.  Before  its  realization  he  passed 
through  a  period  when,  like  his  father,  Paul  I., 
he  felt  a  momentary  enthusiasm  for  the  victor  of 
Austerlitz,  Eylau,  and  Friedland. 

After  the  treaty  of  Tilsit,  signed  July  7,  1807, 
one  would  have  said  that  Russia  was  forever  recon- 
ciled with  imperial  France.  Louis  XVIII.  was  not 
slow  to  see  that  under  such  circumstances  his  pres- 
ence at  Mittau  was  no  longer  reconcilable  with  his 


THE  SECOND  SOJOURN  AT  MITTAU          271 

dignity.  Nevertheless,  he  took  great  care  not  to 
embroil  himself  with  the  Emperor  Alexander.  On 
his  side,  the  Czar  avoided  the  rude  measures  taken 
by  Paul  I.  in  1801.  He  did  not  banish  Louis 
XVIII.  from  Russia,  and  it  was  of  his  own  free  will 
that  the  Prince  repaired  to  England,  where  he  not 
unreasonably  thought  that  his  sojourn  would  be 
more  useful  to  his  cause. 

Leaving  his  wife  and  niece  at  Mittau,  Louis 
XVIII.  left  that  city  with  the  Duke  of  Angouleme, 
and  embarked  at  Riga  for  Sweden  in  October,  1807. 
King  Gustavus  IV.  gave  him  an  excellent  reception 
and  placed  the  Swedish  frigate  Frega  at  his  disposal 
and  under  his  orders.  He  sailed  in  it  to  England 
in  November.  His  wife  and  the  Duchess  of  Angou- 
leme remained  at  Mittau  until  July,  1808,  when, 
quitting  Russia  forever,  they  took  ship  in  the  port 
of  Liban.  After  a  pleasant  voyage  they  landed  on 
English  shores  and  went  to  rejoin  Louis  XVIII. , 
who  was  then  the  guest  of  the  Marquis  of  Bucking- 
ham, at  Gosfield  Hall,  in  Essex. 


XIII 

HARTWELL 

LOUIS  XVIII.  had  been  summoned  to  England 
neither  by  the  court  nor  the  government. 
The  Cabinet  of  London  was  weary  of  the  intrigues 
of  the  French  Smigrts  and  of  the  always  useless 
succors  given  them,  and  feared  to  make  any  pledges 
to  the  Bourbon  cause  except  those  prompted  by 
England's  interests  and  continental  policy.  Warned 
that  the  Pretender  was  bound  for  England,  it 
wanted  to  relegate  him  to  Scotland,  and  it  sent 
orders  to  every  port  which  he  might  possibly  enter, 
desiring  him  to  sail  at  once  for  Leith,  whence  he 
might  go  to  Edinburgh,  where  an  asylum  would  be 
arranged  for  him  in  the  ancient  castle  of  Holyrood. 
On  landing  at  Yarmouth,  Louis  XVIII.  received 
this  official  injunction.  He  refused  to  comply  with 
it,  and  after  having  declared  that  he  would  return 
to  meet  all  the  exiles  of  the  continent  rather  than 
consent  to  the  prescribed  sojourn  at  Holyrood,  he 
claimed  the  simple  rights  of  a  citizen  on  the  free 
soil  of  England.  The  Marquis  of  Buckingham 
offered,  and  induced  him  to  accept,  magnificent 
hospitality  in  his  splendid  castle  of  Gosfield  Hall, 
272 


HAETWELL  273 

in  Essex,  near  the  borders  of  Norfolkshire.  Louis 
XVIII.  was  rejoined  there,  in  the  spring  of  1808,  by 
his  wife  and  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme.  Desiring 
to  thank  their  host  for  his  generous  reception,  the 
exiles  built  a  small  temple  dedicated  to  gratitude  in 
the  park  of  Gosfield  Hall.  Five  oaks  were  to  over- 
shadow it.  The  first  was  planted  by  Louis  XVIII., 
the  second  by  his  wife,  the  third  by  his  niece,  and 
the  fourth  and  fifth  by  his  nephews  the  Dukes  of 
Angouleme  and  Berry. 

In  April,  1809,  the  Pretender,  wishing  to  be 
nearer  London  and  to  have  a  dwelling  of  his  own, 
went  to  the  modest  manor  of  Hartwell,  which  he 
first  hired  and  afterwards  bought  from  Sir  George 
Lee.  This  domain,  which  was  more  like  a  farm 
than  a  manor-house,  and  which  was  about  sixteen 
leagues  from  London,  was  vast  in  its  proportions, 
but  miserable  in  appearance.  In  order  to  contain 
more  persons,  nearly  every  room  had  been  divided 
into  compartments.  The  offices  were  detached  build- 
ings surrounded  by  gardens.  Some  of  these  con- 
structions contained  very  narrow  huts  for  the 
servants.  Taken  all  together,  they  looked  like  a 
village.  The  room  that  Louis  XVIII.  occupied 
most  frequently  was  almost  as  small  as  a  ship's 
cabin.  It  was  ornamented  with  portraits  of  Louis 
XVI.,  Marie  Antoinette,  Madame  Elisabeth,  and 
Louis  XVII.  Before  dinner  the  Prince's  guests 
assembled  in  a  large  drawing-room  where  there  was 
a  billiard  table.  In  going  to  the  dining-room, 


274  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

Louis  XVIII.  always  went  first.  The  repast  was 
simple,  and  not  many  dishes  were  served.  The 
Pretender  did  the  honors  with  much  affability 
and  grace.  After  dinner  they  returned  to  the 
drawing-room  for  coffee,  conversation,  and  whist. 
Every  time  that  Louis  XVIII.  entered  or  went 
out,  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme  dropped  him  a 
profound  courtesy;  he  responded  by  a  bow  and 
kissing  her  hand.  Visitors  were  surprised  at  the 
number  of  persons  lodged  at  the  King's  expense 
in  the  house  and  its  dependencies.  It  was  like  a 
rising  colony. 

"Louis  XVIII.,"  the  Baron  of  Vitrolles  has  said 
in  his  Memoirs,  "displayed  immovable  courage  in 
enduring  his  long  exile ;  he  was  sustained  by  a  true 
sentiment  of  dignity,  his  faith  in  his  rights,  and 
confidence  in  his  future.  In  his  retreat  at  Hartwell 
he  was  at  peace  with  himself  in  the  midst  of  a  very 
narrow  social  circle,  but  one  in  which  he  exercised 
every  sort  of  superiority;  he  preferred  that  of  wit. 
He  lived  like  a  great  nobleman  on  his  estates,  sur- 
rounded by  a  numerous  family.  Political  interests 
and  events  were  seldom  spoken  of.  Historical  facts 
and  dates,  French,  Italian,  and  English  literature, 
formed  the  subject  of  the  evening  conversations  at 
which  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  castle  came  together. 
The  Countess  of  Narbonne,  afterwards  duchess,  dis- 
played there  the  graces  of  her  mind  and  her  pure 
and  elegant  diction.  She  was  the  object  of  the 
King's  preference  and  attention." 


HARTWELL  275 


As  a  consolation  in  his  exile  and  an  affirmation 
of  his  rights,  the  Pretender  kept  up  an  appearance 
of  royalty  at  Hartwell.  Near  his  phantom  of  a 
throne  stood  captains  of  the  guard,  the  Dukes  of 
Gramont  and  of  Havre";  and  first  gentlemen  of  the 
bedchamber,  the  Dukes  of  Fleury  and  of  Aumont. 
When  he  went  to  London  and  was  present  at  divine 
service  in  the  tiny  chapel  of  Little  George  Street, 
erected  at  the  cost  of  the  French  Emigres,  he  occu- 
pied an  armchair  which  resembled  a  throne.  Behind 
this  armchair  was  the  princes'  bench,  where  the 
Duchess  of  Angouleme,  the  Count  of  Artois,  the 
Duke  of  Angouleme,  the  Duke  of  Berry,  the  Prince 
of  Conde*,  and  the  Duke  of  Bourbon  seated  them- 
selves. Moreover,  there  were  benches  for  those 
French  bishops  who,  refusing  to  acknowledge  the 
Concordat,  had  denied  the  Pope's  right  to  dispose 
of  their  sees  without  their  consent.  Among  them 
were  Mgrs.  Lamarche,  Dillon,  Flamarens,  Argentre*, 
Bethisy,  Amelot,  Villedieu,  Laurentie,  Belboeuf, 
and  Colbert. 

The  English  government  had  not  recognized  Louis 
XVIII.  's  royal  title,  and  yet  when  his  wife  died, 
November  13,  1810,  they  paid  her  the  same  honors 
as  to  a  queen,  and  she  was  buried  with  pomp  in 
Westminster  Abbey.  On  her  deathbed  the  Princess 
had  addressed  pious  exhortations  to  her  nephews. 
"  As  to  you,  my  niece, "  she  said  to  the  Duchess  of 
Angouleme,  "  all  you  need  to  go  to  heaven  is  a  pair 
of  wings." 


276  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

At  this  period  the  most  infatuated  partisans  of 
Louis  XVIII.  considered  the  hope  of  his  return  to 
France  as  a  chimerical  dream.  Napoleon's  marriage 
with  an  Austrian  Archduchess  was  thought  to  have 
consolidated  the  imperial  dynasty  forever.  "  Bona- 
parte," says  the  Baron  of  Vitrolles  in  his  Memoirs, 
"had  done  everything  to  efface  the  memory  of  the 
royal  family.  Since  his  reign  began  it  had  been 
named  to  him  but  once,  and  that  was  in  the  ditches 
of  Vincennes.  The  generation  which  knew  our 
principles  had  disappeared;  that  which  was  coming 
up  scarcely  knew  that  Louis  XVI.  had  brothers ;  the 
orphan  of  the  Temple  was  an  historic  personage  for 
them,  and  they  only  learned  by  the  Duke  of  En- 
ghien's  murder  that  there  were  still  Conde's.  We 
ourselves,  who  in  our  youth  had  fought  under  their 
flags  and  for  their  noble  cause,  were  dispersed, 
without  ties  or  union,  if  not  without  souvenirs. 
Many  were  connected  with  the  tyrant;  the  bravest 
in  the  army,  the  neediest  in  the  excise,  the  most 
obsequious  at  court.  Those  who  still  retained  some 
trace  of  their  early  sentiments  in  their  hearts  were 
in  private  and  straitened  circumstances,  without 
influence  and  with  no  hope  of  bettering  their  condi- 
tion. In  ten  years  we  had  barely  heard  these 
princes  whom  we  held  in  veneration  mentioned  more 
than  two  or  three  times.  The  vague  and  often 
lying  news  we  obtained  of  them  was  transmitted 
orally,  and  so  to  say  by  infiltration,  without  our 
knowing  whence  it  came.  We  were  told  that  the 


HABTWELL  277 


Duchess  of  Angouleme  had  given  birth  to  a  son, 
and  that  the  Prince  Regent  of  England  had  been  the 
godfather  of  the  royal  infant.  At  other  times  we 
would  hear  of  one  of  our  princes  appearing  upon 
some  field  of  battle  and  fighting  against  the  usurper 
for  the  rights  of  his  house.  We  still  commemorated 
January  21  at  the  church  and  the  feast  of  Saint 
Louis  at  table,  and  these  vivid  emotions  revealed  to 
us  that  at  the  bottom  of  our  hearts  lay  ineffaceable 
sentiments  and  passions  unperceived  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  our  lives.  Parties  die  when  they  are  built 
purely  upon  interest;  they  live  like  religions  when 
they  are  founded  upon  beliefs." 

Napoleon,  the  father  of  the  King  of  Rome,  had 
reached  the  summit  of  his  power.  His  court  almanac 
resembled  that  of  the  court  of  Versailles ;  there  were 
the  same  offices,  the  same  names,  the  same  titles,  the 
same  etiquette.  The  most  prominent  £migr£s,  the 
most  notable  persons  of  the  old  regime,  served  in  the 
household  of  the  new  Charlemagne  and  in  that  of 
his  wife,  the  daughter  of  the  German  Csesars.  But 
while  discharging  their  functions  in  the  palace  of 
the  Tuileries  and  other  imperial  residences,  these 
great  lords  and  ladies  thought  involuntarily  of  the 
orphan  of  the  Temple.  Even  when  they  forgot  the 
others,  they  remembered  this  heroine  of  sorrow.  As 
Lamartine  has  said,  Louis  XVIII.  loved  the  Duch- 
ess of  Angouleme  through  sentiment  and  through 
policy  also.  "  He  protected  himself  in  the  eyes  of  all 
Europe  through  this  beauty,  youth,  and  piety.  He 


278  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

called  her  his  Antigone.  He  pictured  himself,  lean- 
ing on  the  arm  of  this  niece,  as  royaltjr  protected 
from  on  high  by  an  angel  of  grief.  She  lived  with 
him  at  Hartwell,  reminding  herself  of  France  with 
bitterness,  but  of  the  throne  and  the  country 
with  the  pride  and  majesty  innate  in  her  blood." 
The  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette 
was  the  ornament,  the  poetry,  the  consecration,  of 
the  little  court  of  the  exiled  King.  If  Louis 
XVIII.  had  experienced  a  momentary  weakness,  a 
glance  at  his  niece  would  have  sufficed  to  renew  his 
faith  and  hope. 

It  is  certain  that  Marie  Louise,  with  her  double 
crown  as  Empress  of  the  French  and  Queen  of  Italy, 
was  not  more  majestic  on  her  throne  than  the  orphan 
of  the  Temple  in  her  exile. 

Although  it  was  her  custom  to  avoid  parties  and 
entertainments,  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme  could 
not  refuse  to  appear  at  the  English  court  in  1811. 
The  Baron  of  Ge'ramb,  who  quitted  court-life  for  the 
cloister  some  years  later,  and  became  a  Carthusian 
monk,  thus  expressed  himself  concerning  the  young 
Princess:  "For  the  first  time  Her  Royal  Highness 
the  Duchess  of  Angouleme  appeared  in  London  at 
a  public  assembly.  Shall  I  say  that  all  eyes  were 
instantly  fixed  upon  her  ?  No ;  for  yielding  entirely 
to  my  own  observations  and  the  vivid  emotions 
which  contended  in  my  heart,  I  could  not  notice 
those  of  others.  Never  did  virtue  and  innocence 
display  themselves  to  mankind  in  traits  where  a 


HART  WELL  279 


beauty  so  touching  blended  with  so  profound  a  mel- 
ancholy. I  dare  not  describe  all  that  there  is  of 
enchanting  and  affecting  in  her  glance,  all  that  is 
celestial  in  her  smile ;  I  should  fear  to  profane  what 
I  had  seen  in  seeking  to  portray  it." 

And  the  Austrian  chamberlain,  who  assuredly 
would  not  have  spoken  with  such  enthusiasm  of 
Marie  Louise,  the  daughter  of  his  Emperor,  contin- 
ues in  a  truly  lyrical  transport:  "In  contemplating 
these  features  which,  they  say,  recall  the  goodness 
of  Louis  XVI.  and  the  dignity  of  Marie  Antoinette, 
these  were  the  longings  that  escaped  with  my  sighs 
from  my  burdened  heart :  O  sweet  and  tender  dove ! 
May  storms  respect  forever  the  shelter  where  thou 
dost  repose !  May  new  sorrows  never  come  to  afflict 
this  young  heart  which  grief  has  moulded.  Alas! 
thou  hast  known  naught  of  life  except  its  sufferings 
and  afflictions.  If,  in  the  midst  of  catastrophes 
thou  hast  been  spared,  if  the  rage  of  those  who 
assassinated  the  beings  so  dear  was  not  expended 
upon  thee,  if  thou  hast  come  out  pure  as  the  angels 
from  that  land  where  license  and  crime  held  sway, 
what  destiny  does  Providence  reserve  for  thee? 
Rescued  from  shipwreck  amid  the  most  horrible 
tempests,  art  thou  the  token  which  God  will  one 
day  offer  men  to  show  them  that  His  anger  is 
appeased,  and  that  the  world,  crushed  under  so  many 
ruins,  at  last  may  breathe  again?  Will  the  feeble 
hand  of  a  woman  lift  up  anew  some  day  the  social 
edifice  that  has  been  drenched  in  blood?"  If  for- 


280  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

eigners  spoke  in  such  terms  of  the  daughter  of  Louis 
XVI.,  one  can  readily  imagine  what  the  veneration 
of  the  French  royalists  must  have  been.  In  their 
eyes,  the  saintly  Princess  was  the  living  symbol  of 
the  twin  religions  of  the  throne  and  the  altar. 

The  Duchess  of  Angoul^me,  who  was  her  hus- 
band's only  love,  occupied  herself  at  Hartwell 
chiefly  with  works  of  charity.  She  meditated,  read, 
and  prayed.  Her  private  household  was  composed 
of  the  Countess  of  Choisy,  now  become  the  Vis- 
countess of  Argout;  Count  Etienne,  now  the  Duke 
of  Damas,  and  his  duchess,  the  sister  of  Madame 
de  Narbonne.  She  often  received  visits  from  the 
Count  of  Artois  and  the  Duke  of  Berry,  who 
lived  in  London.  After  the  death  of  Madame  de 
Polastron,  for  whom  he  had  felt  the  longest  and 
tenderest  affection  of  his  life,  the  Count  of  Artois 
had  become  profoundly  devout,  and  his  religious 
sentiments  were  thenceforward  in  harmony  with 
those  of  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  As  to  the 
Duke  of  Berry,  who  loved  the  world  and  the  arts, 
he  led  a  stormy  life.  A  beautiful  Englishwoman 
had  captivated  his  imagination  and  his  heart.  He 
should  have  had  the  emotions  of  war;  those  of  love 
consoled  him.  The  Duchess  of  Angoul^me  fre- 
quently saw  the  Prince  of  Cond£  also,  for  whom  she 
displayed  great  sympathy,  and  to  whom  Louis 
XVIII.  wrote:  "Enjoy,  my  dear  cousin,  the  same 
repose  which  the  most  illustrious  of  your  ancestors 
voluntarily  tasted  under  the  laurels ;  all  will  become 


HAETWELL  281 

Chantilly  to  you."  On  his  part,  the  Prince  of 
Conde*  had  addressed  to  the  Duke  of  Berry,  his 
former  subordinate,  a  letter  in  which  he  said: 
"Doubtless  our  life  is  distressing;  but  we  have 
done  our  duty.  In  existing  circumstances  it  is  for 
you,  not  for  me,  to  raise  the  royal  standard,  and  for 
us  all  to  march  under  your  orders.  Your  extreme 
youth  may  for  a  time  have  necessitated  the  incon- 
venience of  your  being  under  mine,  but  so  long  as  a 
little  strength  remains  to  me,  I  shall  glory  in  being 
your  first  grenadier." 

In  speaking  of  the  princes,  nobles,  and  bishops 
who  came  to  salute  Louis  XVIII.,  M.  de  Vitrolles 
has  said:  "The  homage  of  these  elders  of  France 
formed  for  the  King,  on  ceremonious  occasions,  if 
not  a  court,  at  least  a  circle  sufficiently  numerous  to 
hide  from  him  the  emptiness  that  lay  behind  them. 
He  bore  in  his  royal  nature  the  dignified  sentiments 
and  the  whole  majesty  of  his  race.  Nobility  of 
thought  was  as  natural  to  him  as  that  of  the  blood 
flowing  in  his  veins,  and  whenever  he  had  to  take 
a  determination  he  rose  to  the  height  of  all  the 
kings  he  represented.  In  the  customs  of  his  exiled 
life  he  was  fond  of  the  r61e  and  the  appearance  of 
royalty."  To  have  a  favorite  seemed  to  him  a 
monarchical  tradition.  At  Hartwell  he  had  two;  at 
first  the  Count  of  Avaray,  and  afterwards  the  Count 
of  Blacas.  "The  Count  of  Avaray,"  adds  M.  de 
Vitrolles,  "  had  been  the  most  intimate ;  there  is  no 
ancient  friendship  either  real  or  fabulous,  in  prose 


282  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

or  in  verse,  that  lias  not  been  called  on  to  celebrate 
this  attachment.  Castor  and  Pollux,  Achilles  and 
Patroclus,  Nisus  and  Euryalus,  Augustus  and 
Cinna,  Henri  IV.  and  Sully,  etc.  The  King  had 
given  the  title  of  duke  to  M.  d'Avaray  as  soon  as 
he  succeeded  to  the  right  to  the  throne,  and  the 
father  inherited  his  son's  title  as  soon  as  the  royalty 
became  real.  But  Avhat  was  it  to  be  the  favorite  of 
a  King  in  exile?  He  was  everything;  he  freed  his 
master  from  the  important  cares  of  his  empire; 
he  ruled  the  house,  the  servants,  the  kitchens,  and 
interposed  himself  between  the  King  and  the  princes 
of  his  family  so  as  to  keep  them  at  a  distance.  .  .  . 

"Having  been  attacked  by  a  lung  complaint,  M. 
d'Avaray  travelled  in  Italy  in  search  of  health.  At 
Florence  he  met  M.  de  Blacas,  who  was  of  a  very 
ancient  family  of  Provence,  long  since  fallen  into 
that  decline  of  fortune  which  tarnishes  the  lustre  of 
the  greatest  names.  An  exiled,  poverty-stricken 
sub-lieutenant,  he  was  living  in  the  humblest  wuy 
at  Florence  when  M.  d'Avaray  employed  him  to 
assist  in  his  correspondence.  In  other  circumstances 
this  would  have  meant  a  secretaryship,  but  it  was 
quite  another  thing  in  those  of  the  emigration. 
Having  been  brought  to  England  and  presented  to 
the  King  by  his  new  patron,  M.  de  Blacas  made 
himself  useful  and  agreeable,  and  when  the  progress 
of  M.  d'Avaray's  malady  led  him  to  seek  the  island 
of  Madeira,  celebrated  for  its  cures  of  such  diseases, 
he  left  his  protege*  with  the  King  to  conduct  their 
correspondence. " 


HARTWELL  283 


M.  d'Avaray  died  in  Madeira,  June  3,  1811.  A 
few  days  previous,  Louis  XVIII.  wrote:  "Provi- 
dence could  not  take  from  me  more  than  it  gave 
when  it  granted  me  such  a  friend  as  my  dear 
d'Avaray."  Besides  the  title  of  duke,  the  King 
had  conferred  on  his  favorite  the  right  to  put  the 
escutcheon  of  France  in  his  arms  with  this  device : 
Vicit  iter  durum  pietas. 

The  succession  as  official  favorite  devolved  upon 
M.  de  Blacas.  Lamartine  represents  him  as  pos- 
sessing "the  unlimited  affection  of  his  master,  and 
meriting  it  only  by  his  honor  and  fidelity;  he  was 
inwardly  humble,  but  haughty  in  appearance,  re- 
garded the  King  as  all  and  France  as  nothing,  was 
unyielding  through  rigidity  of  character,  and  carried 
all  the  arrogance  and  pride  of  the  old  absolute  courts 
into  an  obscure  exile  and  a  reign  of  compromises." 

M.  de  Blacas  excited  great  jealousy,  moreover, 
among  those  who  surrounded  Louis  XVIII.  M.  de 
Vitrolles  says :  "  War  was  declared  against  the  new 
favorite.  To  praise  the  old  one  was  not  enough; 
no  occasion  was  let  slip  to  disgust  this  one,  and  to 
display  scorn  and  contemptuous  airs  and,  in  a  word, 
that  kind  of  insults  which  are  resented  the  more 
because  it  is  impossible  to  describe  and  complain 
of  them  since  they  are  so  unsubstantial.  But  in  so 
doing  they  merely  played  into  the  hand  of  him  they 
wanted  to  ruin.  The  King  was  stubborn  in  this 
war  of  ill  manners;  all  his  force  of  character  was 
brought  out  by  it.  If  the  attacks  had  come  from 


284  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULENE 

without,  he  would  readily  have  abandoned  the  object 
of  them;  but  against  his  own  party  he  defended 
him  as  if  he  had  said  to  himself,  unguibus  et  rostra. 
Whenever  an  insult  was  offered  his  favorite  he 
answered  it  by  a  new  evidence  of  favor.  'I  will 
make  him  so  great  that  they  will  not  dare  to  attack 
him  again,'  said  he  when  he  appointed  M.  de  Blacas 
grand-master  of  the  wardrobe.  What  confidence 
he  must  have  had  in  his  royalty  to  think  that  he 
was  doing  something  in  appointing  a  grand  officer 
of  his  household  at  Hart  well!  " 

At  the  time  when  Louis  XVIII.  thus  continued 
to  play  with  imperturbable  dignity  his  r61e  of  sover- 
eign in  partibus  infidelium,  or,  better,  fidelium,  a 
Bourbon  restoration  was  hardly  considered  possible 
by  any  one  except  himself  and  the  Duchess  of 
Angouleme.  As  M.  de  Viel-Castel  says  in  his 
remarkable  history  of  the  Restoration,  "military 
expeditions,  political  intrigues,  conspiracies,  sur- 
prises, had  all  alike  failed.  The  ill-success  of  so 
many  enterprises  from  which  so  much  had  been 
expected,  the  punishment  of  some  of  their  authors, 
the  apparent  impossibility  of  shaking  that  colossus 
of  imperial  power  before  which  the  whole  continent 
trembled,  had  long  obliged  the  Bourbons  to  avoid 
any  manifestation  of  their  claims.  The  royalist 
agency  which  had  secretly  existed  at  Paris  had  been 
broken  up.  The  protest  published  by  Louis  XVIII. 
in  1804,  at  the  time  when  Napoleon  put  on  the  im- 
perial diadem,  was  the  last  sign  of  life  he  had  given 
to  his  adherents." 


H AST  WELL  285 


Until  the  Russian  campaign,  royalty  was  in  a 
somnolent  state  at  Hartwell.  The  Pretender  sel- 
dom spoke  of  politics,  but  he  awaited  with  vague 
confidence  some  unforeseen  event  or  other  which 
would  bring  about  a  thorough  change.  Unfortu- 
nately, these  events  were  to  prove  the  most  fright- 
ful of  catastrophes.  The  wretched  thing  about  the 
royalist  cause  is  that  it  was  weakened  by  the  vic- 
tories and  strengthened  by  the  defeats  of  France. 
The  hopes  of  royalty  seemed  extinguished  after 
Wagrain.  They  rekindled  with  the  burning  of 
Moscow.  Louis  XVIII.,  who  read  the  French  jour- 
nals diligently,  and  discerned  the  symptoms  of  ruin 
and  disaffection  under  the  adulations  of  a  press  sold 
to  the  imperial  police,  understood  that  the  retreat 
from  Russia  had  given  the  Empire  a  mortal  blow, 
and  that  the  Restoration  was  thenceforward  only  a 
matter  of  time.  At  once  he  conceived  the  idea  of 
recalling  himself  by  an  opportune  and  skilful  meas- 
ure to  the  memory  of  France  and  Europe  which 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  him;  he  wrote  to  the 
Emperor  Alexander  on  behalf  of  the  French  princes. 
"The  fate  of  arms,"  said  he  in  his  letter,  "has 
caused  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
prisoners,  most  of  whom  are  Frenchmen,  to  fall  into 
your  hands.  No  matter  what  flag  they  served;  they 
are  unfortunate,  and  I  see  in  them  only  my  children ; 
I  recommend  them  to  Your  Imperial  Majesty.  Deign 
to  consider  how  much  many  of  them  have  already 
suffered,  and  ameliorate  the  severities  of  their  lot! 


286  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULKMK 

Let  them  learn  that  the  victor  is  their  father's 
friend!  Your  Majesty  cannot  give  me  a  more  affect- 
ing proof  of  your  sentiments  toward  me."  The  Czar 
did  not  even  reply  to  the  Pretender. 

Alexander's  silence  did  not  discourage  Louis 
XVIII.,  who  published  another  manifesto,  February 
1,  1813.  He  proved  by  this  adroit  and  liberal  docu- 
ment that  time,  exile,  and  the  lessons  of  experience 
had  caused  him  to  make  some  useful  reflections. 
He  promised  to  maintain  the  administrative  and 
judiciary  bodies  in  the  plenitude  of  their  powers, 
to  leave  all  functionaries  in  their  employments,  to 
forbid  all  prosecutions  for  things  accomplished  in 
an  unhappy  past  whose  oblivion  would  be  sealed  by 
his  return,  and  he  invited  the  imperial  Senate, 
which  he  lauded,  to  make  itself  the  chief  instrument 
of  the  Restoration. 

After  the  battle  of  Leipsic  the  Pretender  thought 
that  the  speedy  success  of  his  cause  was  certain. 
Thus,  as  Lamartine  has  said,  the  re-establishment 
of  a  Bourbon  on  the  throne  of  France  seemed  to  him 
a  duty  on  the  part  of  God  Himself;  and  the  hour 
which  he  and  the  orphan  of  the  Temple  awaited  as 
a  justification  of  Providence  was  at  last  about  to 
strike. 


XIV 

THE  END   OF  THE  EXILE 

AT  the  beginning  of  1814,  Louis  XVIII.  was 
convinced  that  his  return  to  France  was 
imminent;  and  yet  the  European  Powers  had  not 
yet  promised  him  their  support.  Not  having  aban- 
doned the  idea  of  treating  with  Napoleon,  they 
feared  to  increase  the  difficulties  of  the  contest  by 
linking  their  cause  to  that  of  a  family  having 
numerous  adversaries  in  France.  The  Emperor 
Alexander,  jealous  perhaps  of  the  antiquity  of  the 
Bourbon  race,  showed  little  sympathy  for  them,  and 
was  reputed  to  favor  Bernadotte  as  sovereign  of  the 
French  people.  The  Austrian  Emperor  seemed 
unconcerned  about  Louis  XVIII.,  and  his  coldness 
was  attributed  to  a  lingering  interest  in  the  fate  of 
his  daughter,  Marie  Louise.  Although  the  whole 
outlook  seemed  discouraging,  the  Count  of  Artois 
and  his  two  sons,  the  Duke  of  Angouleme  and 
the  Duke  of  Berry,  decided  to  leave  England  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  part  in  approaching  events.  The 
Count  of  Artois  wanted  to  throw  himself  into  the 
midst  of  the  Russian,  Austrian,  and  Prussian  armies 
which  were  attacking  France  in  the  north  and  east. 

287 


288  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

The  Duke  of  Angoulenie  wanted  to  go  to  Spain, 
where  an  English  and  Spanish  army  was  advancing 
toward  the  South  of  France.  The  Duke  of  Berry 
proposed  to  go  to  the  island  of  Jersey,  near  the 
departments  of  Normandy,  where  the  conscription 
had  just  occasioned  some  troubles  thought  likely  to 
prelude  an  insurrection. 

The  three  princes  embarked  on  English  vessels 
in  January,  1814.  The  Count  of  Artois  landed  in 
Holland,  and  it  was  not  until  he  had  wandered  for 
more  than  a  month  in  that  country,  Germany,  and 
Switzerland,  that  the  Allies  gave  him  permission  to 
set  foot  on  French  territory.  The  Duke  of  Angou- 
l(3me  was  able  to  reach  Saint-Jean-de-Luz,  which 
was  held  by  English  troops,  and  on  February  2,  he 
issued  a  proclamation  there  in  which  he  invited  the 
French  army  commanded  by  Marshal  Soult  to  aid  in 
the  overthrow  of  Napoleon.  The  marshal,  who  was 
to  display  such  royalist  sentiments  some  weeks  later 
on,  replied  to  this  attempted  corruption  of  his  troops 
by  a  proclamation  in  which  he  said :  "  Soldiers,  they 
have  had  the  infamy  to  persuade  you  to  violate  your 
oaths  to  the  Emperor.  This  offence  can  only  be 
avenged  in  blood.  To  arms !  .  .  .  Let  us  devote  to 
opprobrium  and  public  execration  every  Frenchman 
who  would  favor  the  insidious  projects  of  our  ene- 
mies. Let  us  fight  to  the  end  against  the  enemies 
of  our  august  Emperor  and  our  country.  Hatred  to 
traitors!  War  to  the  death  against  those  who  at- 
tempt to  divide  us !  Let  us  contemplate  the  prodi- 


THE  END   OF  THE  EXILE  289 

gious  efforts  of  our  great  Emperor  and  his  signal 
victories,  and  die  with  arms  in  our  hands  rather 
than  outlive  our  honor !  " 

As  to  the  Duke  of  Berry,  he  landed  in  the  island 
of  Jersey.  He  had  been  told  that  he  would  have 
but  to  fall  upon  the  coast  of  Normandy  in  order  to 
be  surrounded  at  once  by  a  royalist  army.  But  he 
soon  perceived  that  this  was  a  delusion,  and  re- 
mained in  Jersey  until  the  consummation  of  the 
events  about  to  take  place.  It  was  from  there  he 
wrote  the  folloAving  letter,  quoted  by  Chateaubri- 
and: "Here  I  am  like  Tantalus,  in  sight  of  this 
unhappy  France  which  has  such  difficult)  in  break- 
ing its  chains ;  and  winds,  bad  weather,  and  the  tide 
all  come  to  arrest  the  courageous  efforts  of  the 
heroes  who  are  going  to  risk  the  dangers  which  I 
am  not  yet  allowed  to  share.  You,  whose  soul  is 
so  beautiful,  so  French,  understand  all  that  I  expe- 
rience, all  that  it  costs  me  to  remain  away  from 
those  shores  which  I  could  reach  in  two  hours! 
When  the  sun  lights  them  up  I  climb  to  the  highest 
rocks  and,  with  my  glass  in  my  hand,  I  follow  the 
whole  coast,  I  see  the  rocks  of  Coutances.  My 
imagination  becomes  excited;  I  see  myself  spring- 
ing ashore,  surrounded  by  Frenchmen  with  white 
cockades  in  their  hats;  I  hear  the  cry,  'Long  live 
the  King ! '  that  cry  which  no  Frenchman  ever  hears 
unmoved;  the  most  beautiful  woman  in  the  prov- 
ince wreathes  a  white  scarf  about  me,  for  love  and 
glory  always  go  together.  We  march  on  Cher- 


290  TEE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOUL&ME 

bourg;  some  wretched  fort,  garrisoned  by  foreigners, 
tries  to  defend  itself;  we  carry  it  by  storm,  and  a 
vessel  goes  to  seek  the  King  with  the  white  standard 
which  recalls  the  glorious  and  happy  days  of  France. 
Ah!  madame,  when  one  is  but  a  few  hours  from  the 
accomplishment  of  so  probable  a  dream,  could  he 
think  of  going  further  away?" 

However,  the  French  royalists  made  no  move  as 
yet.  "We  had  often  grieved,"  says  M.  de  Vitrolles, 
"at  not  having  the  least  communication  from  our 
princes.  We  were  ready  to  accuse  them  of  aban- 
doning their  cause  at  the  moment  when  they  might 
have  set  up  their  flag  anew.  But  one  of  those  Eng- 
lish journals  so  strictly  prohibited  reached  us  one 
day  through  the  intermediation  of  the  Archbishop 
of  Malines ;  it  apprised  us  that  Monsieur,  the  Count 
of  Artois,  had  embarked  for  the  continent,  January 
25;  and  that,  about  the  same  time,  the  Duke  of 
Angouleme  had  also  left  England  for  the  south  of 
France,  there  to  offer  himself  generously  to  his 
friends  and  enemies.  This  news,  entirely  over- 
looked by  the  majority,  and  hardly  noticed  by  those 
who  saw  it,  was  for  us  a  flash  of  light  and  fire.  It 
enlivened  our  hopes  and  revived  our  purposes.  I 
decided  on  the  spot  to  go  in  search  of  Monsieur 
wherever  he  might  be." 

Before  rejoining  the  Count  of  Artois,  M.  de 
Vitrolles  went  to  the  headquarters  of  the  Allies  and 
had  interviews  with  Prince  Metternich  and  the 
Emperor  Alexander  which  were  not  very  encourag- 


THE  END   OF  THE  EXILE  291 


ing  for  the  Bourbon  cause.  The  Czar  said  to  him: 
"The  proof  of  attachment  you  give  to  your  former 
masters  is  certainly  laudable ;  it  conies  from  a  senti- 
ment of  honor  and  loyalty  which  I  appreciate,  but 
the  obstacles  which  henceforward  separate  the  princes 
of  the  House  of  Bourbon  from  the  throne  of  France 
seem  to  me  insurmountable.  .  .  .  They  would 
come  back  embittered  by  misfortune,  and  even 
though  generous  sentiments  or  wise  policy  should 
oblige  them  to  sacrifice  their  resentments,  they 
would  not  be  strong  enough  to  pacify  those  who 
have  suffered  for  them  and  by  them.  The  spirit  of 
the  army,  that  army  so  powerful  in  France,  would 
be  opposed  to  them ;  the  impulse  of  the  new  genera- 
tions would  be  against  them." 

The  Emperor  Alexander  then  enumerated  several 
combinations  which  had  occurred  to  the  minds  of 
the  Allies  concerning  the  fate  of  France.  "We 
have  studied  much,"  said  he,  "about  what  might 
suit  France  if  Napoleon  should  disappear.  For 
some  time  we  considered  Bernadotte;  his  influence 
over  the  army,  and  the  favor  with  which  he  must  be 
regarded  by  the  friends  of  the  Revolution,  fixed  our 
thoughts  on  him  for  some  time ;  but  afterwards  vari- 
ous motives  made  us  put  him  aside.  Eugene  Beau- 
harnais  has  been  spoken  of;,  he  is  esteemed  by 
France,  cherished  by  the  army,  and  sprung  from  the 
ranks  of  the  nobility ;  would  he  not  have  many  par- 
tisans? After  all,  might  not  a  wisely  organized 
Republic  be  more  congenial  to  the  French  mind? 


292  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

It  is  not  with  impunity  that  ideas  of  liberty  have 
germinated  long  in  such  a  country  as  yours.  They 
make  the  establishment  of  a  more  concentrated 
power  very  difficult." 

After  recalling  the  Czar's  language,  M.  de  Vi- 
trolles  adds :  "  Where  were  we,  great  God !  on  the 
17th  of  March  ?  The  Emperor  Alexander,  the  King 
of  the  kings  united  for  the  safety  of  the  world,  talk- 
ing to  me  of  the  Republic !  .  .  .  I  disguised  toler- 
ably well  the  astonishment  I  felt  at  these  last  words, 
and  was  sufficiently  master  of  myself  to  answer  the 
Emperor  without  allowing  any  alteration  in  my  voice 
to  betray  my  emotion.  I  had  not  associated  enough 
with  kings  to  anticipate  such  an  allocution.  I  thought 
it  was  I  who  should  plead,  and  that  they  would  re- 
spond by  some  great  and  noble  words,  and  by  senti- 
ments as  noble  as  the  dignity  of  my  interlocutors 
presupposed.  But  not  at  all ;  they  at  once  engaged 
me  in  a  hand-to-hand  contest,  raining  on  me  the 
closest,  strongest,  and  completest  reasons ;  in  fact, 
all  and  the  only  ones  that  could  be  objected  to  me." 

Even  after  the  rupture  of  the  Congress  of  Chatil- 
lon  the  Powers  did  not  yet  pronounce  for  the  royal- 
ist cause.  The  Russian  generals  had  ended  by 
authorizing  the  Count  of  Artois  to  come  to  Nancy, 
but  without  cockade,  decoration,  or  political  title, 
as  a  simple  traveller.  "It  must  be  owned,"  says 
M.  de  Vitrolles  again,  "that  until  then  his  hopes 
had  received  no  encouragement.  The  regions  where 
Monsieur  sought  to  exert  his  influence  were  occu- 


THE  END   OF  THE  EXILE  293 

pied  by  foreign  armies ;  the  wishes  of  the  entire 
population  were  for  a  speed}'-  pacification,  and  the 
re-establishment  of  the  Bourbons  seemed  rather  a 
question  which  would  prolong  the  war.  They  saw 
no  escape  from  so  many  evils  save  a  peace  with 
Bonaparte.  On  the  other  hand,  the  overtures  made 
to  the  allied  sovereigns  had  been  always  and  utterly 
repelled,  and  yet  Monsieur's  claims  had  been  ex- 
ceedingly small ;  he  merely  solicited  permission  to 
rejoin  the  army  and  fight  as  a  simple  volunteer. 
At  the  time  of  my  arrival  at  Nancy  he  was  pro- 
foundly discouraged.  I  brought  a  kingdom;  they 
felt  it;  but  they  did  not  so  quickly  comprehend  it. 
Monsieur  still  gave  precedence  to  his  request  to 
join  the  army ;  all  that  I  announced  to  him,  all  the 
most  elevated  subjects  of  our  interviews,  did  not 
avail  to  change  his  notion,  and  the  letters  he  gave 
me,  on  my  departure,  for  the  Emperors  of  Russia  and 
Austria  still  gave  the  first  rank  to  this  request  to 
take  part  in  active  army  service.  He  has  one  of 
those  minds  that  are  sluggish  to  move." 

At  the  very  time  when  the  Count  of  Artois 
seemed  discouraged  at  Nancy,  an  event  occurred  at 
Bordeaux  which  revived  all  royalist  hopes.  The 
mayor  was  a  count  of  the  Empire,  M.  de  Lynch, 
whose  antecedents  did  not  seem  to  foreshadow  the 
part  he  was  about  to  play.  Three  months  before  he 
had  laid  at  the  foot  of  Napoleon's  throne  the  homage 
of  the  pretended  devotion  of  the  people  of  Bordeaux, 
and  had  said  in  a  more  than  adulatory  address: 


294  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

"  Napoleon  has  done  everything  for  the  French ;  the 
French  will  do  everything  for  him."  January  29, 
1814,  on  presenting  the  flags  to  the  National  Guard 
just  organized,  he  promised  to  give  proof  of  fidelity 
and  devotion  to  the  Emperor  in  case  there  should  be 
danger  of  invasion.  Almost  at  the  same  time,  in 
concert  with  M.  Taffard  of  Saint-Germain,  who  en- 
titled himself  King's  commissioner  for  Guyenne,  he 
sent  two  secret  agents  to  Lord  Wellington  entreat- 
ing him  to  send  a  body  of  English  troops  to  Bor- 
deaux, saying  that  if  they  were  accompanied  by  the 
Duke  of  Angouleme  they  would  be  certain  to  find  a 
good  reception. 

Lord  Wellington  had  at  first  shown  little  sym- 
pathy for  the  royalist  cause.  On  entering  French 
territory,  he  had  written  to  his  government  that  the 
Bourbons  were  as  little  known,  perhaps  less  known, 
to  their  former  subjects  than  the  princes  of  any 
other  dynasty,  and  that  if  it  suited  the  Allies  to 
present  a  new  sovereign  to  the  French  nation,  it 
mattered  little  from  what  family  he  was  chosen. 
Lord  Wellington  began  by  declining  the  offer  of  the 
two  Bordelais  envoys.  He  considered  it  imprudent 
to  detach  an  army  corps  from  its  base  of  operations 
and  to  embarrass  the  negotiations  of  the  Congress  of 
Chatillon,  the  issue  of  which  was  still  doubtful. 
He  added  that  he  was  unwilling  to  compromise 
honest  people  whom  the  fortunes  of  war  might  pos- 
sibly oblige  him  to  leave  exposed  to  imperial  ven- 
geance. He  changed  his  mind  a  few  days  later. 


THE  END   OF  THE  EXILE  295 

Having  defeated  Marshal  Soult  at  the  battle  of 
Orthez,  he  removed  his  headquarters  to  Saint-Sever, 
and  concluded  that  from  the  strategetical  point  of 
view  the  occupation  of  a  city  like  Bordeaux  would 
be  useful.  Hence,  on  March  7,  he  detached  a  body 
of  fifteen  thousand  men  from  his  army,  put  them 
under  the  orders  of  General  Beresford,  and  sent 
them  towards  Bordeaux,  which  Marshal  Soult's 
retreat  to  Toulouse  had  left  unprotected.  Without 
English  troops  the  royalists  would  not  have  dared 
to  undertake  anything,  but  with  them  they  thought 
success  was  certain.  The  garrison  of  the  city  num- 
bered only  five  hundred.  At  the  approach  of  General 
Beresford's  army  corps  they  withdrew,  on  March 
11.  Then  the  royalists  decided  that  on  the  follow- 
ing day  they  would  go  to  meet  the  English,  and 
that  on  entering  Bordeaux  with  them,  they  would 
proclaim  Louis  XVIII.  there.  This  programme 
was  executed.  A  discharge  of  cannon  having  given 
the  city  the  signal  agreed  upon,  an  immense  white 
flag  was  run  up  on  the  steeple  of  Saint  Michel,  the 
highest  in  all  Bordeaux.  At  the  same  time  the 
mayor,  M.  de  Lynch,  going  to  meet  General  Beres- 
ford, who  had  arrived  at  the  end  of  the  bridge  of 
the  Maye,  and  pointing  toward  the  white  flag  flying 
from  the  steeple  of  Saint  Michel,  said:  "General, 
you  will  enter  a  city  subject  to  its  legitimate  king, 
Louis  XVIII. ,  the  ally  of  His  Britannic  Majesty; 
you  will  witness  the  joy  of  this  great  city  on  replac- 
ing itself  under  the  paternal  authority  of  a  Bour- 
bon." 


296  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

General  Beresford  answered  the  mayor  dryly: 
"  Do  what  you  please ;  your  internal  dissensions  do 
not  concern  me.  I  am  here  simply  to  protect  per- 
sons and  property.  I  take  possession  of  the  city  in 
the  name  of  His  Britannic  Majesty." 

At  the  same  time  it  was  announced  that  the  Duke 
of  AngoulSme  would  enter  the  city  two  hours  later. 
Then  there  broke  out  among  the  royalists  an  explo- 
sion of  joy  that  bordered  on  delirium.  When  the 
nephew  of  Louis  XVIII.,  the  husband  of  the  orphan 
of  the  Temple,  made  his  appearance,  they  embraced 
each  other,  they  fell  on  their  knees.  It  was,  who 
should  touch  the  dress  or  the  horse  of  the  Prince, 
who  replied  to  these  demonstrations  of  enthusiasm 
by  saying:  "No  more  war,  no  more  conscription,  no 
more  excise  laws ! "  He  went  to  the  cathedral  to 
return  thanks  to  God,  thence  to  the  H6tel-de-Ville, 
and  took  possession  of  the  province  in  the  name  of 
Louis  XVIII.  The  white  flag  replaced  the  tricolor 
everywhere.  In  the  evening  the  city  was  illumi- 
nated. A  proclamation  from  the  mayor  was  read  by 
torchlight,  in  which  he  felicitated  the  Bordelais  on 
their  conduct  and  thanked  the  English,  Spanish, 
and  Portuguese  for  having  joined  together  in  the 
south  of  France,  as  others  had  done  in  the  north, 
"to  replace  the  scourge  of  nations  by  a  monarch 
who  is  the  father  of  the  people." 

Three  days  afterward,  March  15,  1814,  the  Duke 
of  Angouleme  published  a  proclamation  in  which 
he  said:  "It  is  not  the  Bourbons  who  have  brought 


THE  END   OF  THE  EXILE  297 

the  Allied  Powers  upon  your  territory;  they  has- 
tened thither  in  order  to  preserve  their  dominions 
from  new  misfortunes.  As  they  are  convinced  that 
there  is  no  repose  either  for  their  own  peoples  or 
for  France  save  in  a  limited  monarchy,  they  open 
the  way  to  the  throne  to  the  successors  of  Saint 
Louis.  It  is  only  through  your  suffrages  that  the 
King  my  uncle  aspires  to  be  the  restorer  of  a  pater- 
nal and  free  government."  A  deputation  went  to 
Hartwell  to  bear  to  Louis  XVIII.  the  homage  of  the 
Bordelais,  and  to  entreat  him  to  repair  to  the  first 
French  city  which  had  proclaimed  his  authority. 

However,  the  satisfaction  of  the  Duke  of  Angou- 
le^me  was  not  unalloyed.  The  example  of  the  Bor- 
delais royalists  had,  so  to  say,  no  imitators.  With 
the  exception  of  the  two  little  towns  of  Roquefort 
and  Bazas,  not  a  single  commune  declared  for  the 
King.  General  Beresford  had  left  Bordeaux  for  the 
purpose  of  besieging  Bayonne  and  the  fortress  of 
Blaye,  the  garrison  of  which,  having  remained  faith- 
ful to  the  Emperor,  was  obstructing  the  free  naviga- 
tion of  the  Garonne.  The  Duke  of  Angouleme, 
menaced  with  a  return  of  the  imperial  troops,  wrote 
to  Lord  Wellington  asking  for  men  and  money. 
Lord  Wellington  refused  them.  "  It  is  contrary  to 
my  advice  and  my  way  of  looking  at  things,"  he 
replied  to  the  Prince,  "that  certain  persons  of  the 
city  of  Bordeaux  have  thought  proper  to  proclaim 
King  Louis  XVIII.  These  persons  have  put  them- 
selves to  no  trouble,  they  have  not  given  a  farthing, 


298  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

they  have  not  raised  a  soldier  to  sustain  their  cause, 
and  now,  because  they  are  in  danger,  they  accuse  me 
of  not  aiding  them  with  my  troops.  ...  I  am  not 
sure  that  I  would  not  outstep  my  duty  in  lending 
your  cause  the  least  protection  or  support.  .  .  . 
The  public  must  know  the  truth.  If,  by  ten  days 
from  now,  you  have  not  contradicted  the  proclama- 
tion of  the  mayor  of  Bordeaux,  which  attributes  to 
me  the  duty  of  protecting  the  cause  of  the  royalists 
of  the  city,  I  will  publicly  contradict  it  myself." 

Left  to  themselves,  the  royalists  of  Bordeaux 
would  doubtless  have  been  lost.  What  brought 
about  the  triumph  of  their  cause  was  the  rupture  of 
the  Congress  of  Chatillon,  the  capitulation  of  Paris, 
and  the  defection  of  Essonnes.  Meanwhile  their 
deputation  had  arrived  at  Hartwell  on  Annunciation 
Day,  March  25,  1814.  It  was  composed  of  M.  de 
Tauzia,  deputy-mayor  of  Bordeaux,  and  Baron  de 
Labarte,  bearer  of  the  Duke  of  Angouleme's  de- 
spatches. At  the  moment  when  the  two  envoys 
reached  the  royal  residence  in  a  carriage  whose  pos- 
tilion and  horses  were  adorned  with  white  cockades, 
Louis  XVIII.  and  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme  were 
hearing  Mass  in  the  chapel  of  Hartwell.  After 
Mass,  the  King,  with  his  niece  standing  beside  him, 
received  the  Bordelais  envoys.  He  was  surrounded 
by  the  Archbishop  of  Rheims,  the  Count  of  Blacas, 
the  Dukes  of  Lorges,  Havre",  Gramont,  Se'rent,  and 
Castires,  the  Viscount  of  Agoult,  the  Count  of 
Pradel,  the  Chevalier  of  Riviere,  M.  Durepaire,  the 


THE  END   OF  THE  EXILE 


Duchess  of  Se'rent,  the  Countess  Etienne  of  Damas, 
and  the  Countess  of  Choisy.  M.  de  Tauzia,  advanc- 
ing towards  the  King,  presented  him  a  letter  in 
which  M.  de  Lynch  entreated  him  to  come  to  Bor- 
deaux, where  the  white  flag  had  been  run  up.  After 
reading  this  letter,  Louis  XVIII.  embraced  the 
faithful  royalist  who  brought  it.  Emotion  was  at 
its  height.  The  Duchess  of  Angoule'me  insisted  on 
hearing  all  the  details  of  her  husband's  entrance 
into  Bordeaux.  Her  face,  ordinarily  so  melancholy, 
beamed  with  joy. 

Louis  XVIII.  made  the  following  response  to  the 
mayor's  letter:  "Count  of  Lynch,  it  is  with  the 
only  sentiment  that  a  paternal  heart  could  expe- 
rience that  I  have  learned  of  the  noble  outbreak 
which  has  given  back  to  me  my  good  city  of  Bor- 
deaux. I  do  not  doubt  "that  this  example  will  be 
imitated  by  all  other  portions  of  my  kingdom;  but 
neither  I  nor  my  successors,  nor  France  itself,  will 
forget  that,  the  first  restored  to  liberty,  the  Borde- 
lais  were  also  the  first  to  fly  into  their  father's  arms. 
I  express  feebly  what  I  feel  keenly ;  but  I  hope  that 
before  long,  entering  myself  within  those  walls 
where,  to  use  the  language  of  the  good  Henri,  my 
fortune  has  first  begun,  I  can  better  show  the  senti- 
ments which  penetrate  me.  I  desire  that  your  fel- 
low-citizens shall  learn  this  through  you ;  you  have 
merited  this  first  reward;  for,  in  spite  of  your 
modesty,  I  have  been  informed  of  the  services  you 
have  rendered  me,  and  I  experience  a  real  happiness 
in  discharging  my  debts." 


300  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

This  letter  was  dated  March  31,  1814.  On  that 
day  the  Allies  entered  Paris.  Their  triumph  assured 
that  of  Louis  XVIII.,  and  it  was  to  Paris,  not  to 
Bordeaux,  that  the  Prince  was  about  to  repair. 
During  the  last  days  of  his  stay  on  British  soil,  the 
English  government  and  people  lavished  enthusi- 
astic attentions  on  him.  One  might  have  thought 
him  the  King  of  England.  Concerning  this  Lamar- 
tine  has  written:  "The  English  nation,  moved  by 
the  call  of  Burke  and  other  orators  at  the  tragic 
death  of  Louis  XVI.,  the  Queen,  arid  the  royal 
family,  indignant  witnesses  of  the  execution  of  the 
many  victims  immolated  by  the  Terror,  were  consti- 
tutionalists through  interest,  royalists  through  piety. 
The  history  of  the  French  Revolution,  constantlr 
recited  and  commented  on  in  London  by  exiled 
royalist  writers,  had  become  there  a  poetic  chronicle 
of  misfortune,  crime,  the  scaffold,  and  the  throne. 
England  had  been  generous,  prodigal,  and  hospitable 
toward  the  French  nobility,  then  exiled  and  grate- 
ful. .  .  .  The  fall  of  Napoleon  and  his  replace- 
ment on  the  throne  of  France  by  a  brother  of  Louis 
XVI.  seemed  to  the  English  one  of  their  greatest 
historical  achievements." 

Louis  XVIII.  and  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme  left 
Hartwell  April  20,  1814,  and  on  the  same  day  made 
a  formal  entry  into  London.  The  Prince  Regent 
went  as  far  as  Stanmore  to  meet  them.  He  was 
preceded  by  three  couriers  in  royal  livery  who  wore 
white  cockades;  the  postilions  who  drove  his  four- 


THE  END   OF  THE  EXILE  301 

horse  carriage,  in  addition  to  this  cockade,  wore 
white  hats  and  vests.  The  Prince  arrived  at  Stan- 
more  at  two  in  the  afternoon.  Every  house  was 
hung  with  flags.  The  gentry  of  the  neighborhood 
formed  a  cavalcade  which  assembled  about  a  mile 
from  the  city  in  order  to  accompany  Louis  XVIII. 
on  his  entry.  Some  distance  from  Stanmore  the 
people  unharnessed  the  horses  from  the  royal  car- 
riage and  drew  it  themselves.  Louis  XVIII. 
alighted  at  the  Abercorn  inn,  where  the  Prince 
Regent  received  him  and  conversed  with  him  in 
French.  The  cortege  then  proceeded  at  an  easy 
trot  as  far  as  Kilburn,  where  it  began  to  walk.  The 
entry  into  London  was  magnificent.  They  passed 
through  Hyde  Park  and  Piccadilly  in  the  midst 
of  an  immense  population  who  made  the  air  ring 
with  enthusiastic  acclamations.  The  English  people 
could  rejoice  better  than  the  French  people,  for 
neither  mourning  nor  defeat  blended  with  their  joy, 
nor  was  their  country  occupied  by  foreign  troops. 
Ladies  waved  handkerchiefs  from  the  windows. 
English  and  French  flags,  crowned  with  laurel, 
.streamed  on  the  air  together.  It  was  nearly  six  in 
the  evening  when  the  cortege  arrived  at  the  Crillon 
hotel,  where  Louis  XVIII.  was  to  put  up.  The 
Duke  of  Kent's  band,  stationed  near  the  hotel, 
played  Crod  save  the  King.  As  the  carriage  con- 
taining the  King  of  France  and  the  Prince  Regent 
drew  nearer,  the  popular  acclamations  redoubled. 
On  alighting  from  the  carriage  Louis  XVIII. 


302  THE  DUCHESS   OF  ANGOULEME 

took  the  arm  of  the  Prince  Regent,  who  led  him  to 
the  principal  drawing-room  of  the  hotel  Crillon. 
He  sat  down  there,  with  the  Prince  Regent  and  the 
Duchess  of  Angouleme  on  his  right,  the  Duke  of 
York  on  his  left,  and  the  Prince  of  Conde"  and  the 
Duke  of  Bourbon  behind  him.  The  diplomatic 
corps  Avas  present. 

The  Prince  Regent  spoke  first.  "  Your  Majesty, " 
said  he,  "  will  permit  me  to  offer  my  congratulations 
on  the  great  event  which  has  always  been  one  of  my 
dearest  wishes,  and  which  must  contribute  im- 
mensely not  only  to  the  welfare  of  Your  Majesty's 
people,  but  also  to  the  repose  and  prosperity  of  other 
nations.  I  may  add  with  confidence  that  my  senti- 
ments and  personal  wishes  are  in  harmony  with 
those  of  the  whole  British  nation.  The  transports 
of  triumph  which  will  signalize  Your  Majesty's 
entry  into  your  own  capital,  can  hardly  surpass  the 
joy  which  Your  Majesty's  restoration  to  the  throne 
of  France  has  caused  in  the  capital  of  the  British 
Empire." 

Louis  XVIII.  responded:  "I  beg  Your  Royal 
Highness  to  accept  my  most  lively  and  sincere 
thanks  for  the  congratulations  just  addressed  to  me. 
I  offer  them  especially  for  the  continued  attentions 
of  which  I  have  been  the  object,  not  less  from  Your 
Royal  Highness  than  from  every  member  of  your 
illustrious  family.  It  is  to  the  counsels  of  Your 
Royal  Highness,  to  this  glorious  country,  and  the 
confidence  of  its  inhabitants,  that  I  attribute,  under 


THE  END  OF  THE  EXILE  303 

Providence,  the  re-establishment  of  our  House  upon 
the  throne  of  our  ancestors,  and  this  fortunate  state 
of  affairs  which  promises  to  heal  wounds,  calm  pas- 
sions, and  restore  peace,  repose,  and  happiness  to 
all  nations." 

The  King's  speech  has  been  severely  criticised  by 
every  author  who  has  written  the  history  of  the 
Restoration.  "  These  words,"  says  M.  Alfred  Nette- 
ment,  "overdid  Louis  XVIII. 's  gratitude  toward 
the  English  government,  of  whom  he  had  often 
complained  and  with  reason;  they  had,  moreover, 
the  grave  inconvenience  of  sacrificing  a  future  effect 
to  a  present  one.  As  soon  as  the  delirium  of  peace 
had  quieted  down,  they  could  be  turned  against  the 
King  of  France  and  represented  as  an  act  of  vassal- 
age toward  England  by  detaching  them  from  the 
circumstances  in  which  they  had  been  uttered,  and 
the  discourse  of  the  Prince  Regent  which  had  pro- 
voked them,  like  those  figures  which  lose  their 
expression  when  detached  from  the  picture  in  which 
they  were  introduced." 

Lamartine  has  been  still  more  severe.  He  says : 
"  These  words  which  were  inspired  by  the  gratitude 
of  the  exile,  but  which  the  dignity  of  the  King  of 
France  should  have  interdicted  from  his  lips,  were 
afterwards  the  remorse  of  his  reign,  and  the  text  of 
patriotism  against  his  family.  France  was  not 
merely  forgotten  in  them,  but  humiliated." 

Finally  Baron  Louis  of  Viel-Castle  has  thus 
expressed  himself:  "Whether  these  words  were  due 


304  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

to  the  excitement  of  the  place  and  time,  or  whether 
they  were  intentionally  aimed  at  the  dominant 
influence  then  exercised  by  the  Russian  Emperor, 
it  would  have  been  difficult  to  utter  more  untoward 
ones.  One  fails  to  understand  how  they  could  have 
issued  from  the  mouth  of  a  Prince  who  on  other 
occasions  gave  evidence  of  dignity  and  tact.  Their 
plain  meaning  was  that  the  House  of  Bourbon  owed 
their  recovered  throne  to  England  solely;  that  the 
other  Powers  had  done  nothing  towards  it,  and  that 
the  French  people  themselves  had  had  no  part  in 
the  recall  of  their  Kings.  This  was  not  true.  The 
Emperor  Alexander  was  the  real  author  of  the 
Restoration,  with  M.  de  Talleyrand  and  the  Senate, 
and  if  the  Senate  was  not  the  legitimate  representa- 
tive of  France,  existing  laws  attributed  that  char- 
acter to  it  up  to  a  certain  point.  This  speech 
wounded  the  Russian  monarch  and  the  other  Allies 
deeply;  it  especially  displeased  and  disquieted  the 
members  of  the  provisional  government  and  all 
those  who  dreaded  to  see  the  Bourbons  adopt  an 
anti-national  system  of  reaction." 

After  his  allocution,  Louis  XVIII.,  assisted  by 
the  Prince  of  Conde"  and  the  Duke  of  Bourbon,  took 
off  his  blue  ribbon  and  his  badge  of  the  Order  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  and  decorated  the  Prince  Regent 
with  his  own  hands.  "  I  esteem  myself  singularly 
happy,"  said  he,  "to  be  able  to  confer  the  first  rib- 
bon of  this  ancient  Order  on  a  Prince  who  has  so 
powerfully  contributed  to  the  deliverance  and  resur- 


THE  END   OF  THE  EXILE  305 

rection  of  France."     In   exchange  he  received  the 
Order  of  the  Garter. 

Louis  XVIII.  spent  three  days  in  London,  and 
then,  accompanied  by  the  Prince  Regent,  he  went 
to  Dover,  where,  on  April  24,  1814,  he  sailed  for 
Calais  with  the  Duchess  of  AngoulSme,  the  Prince 
of  Conde',  and  the  Duke  of  Bourbon. 

The  royalists  will  never  forget  that  day.  For 
them  it  is  an  apotheosis.  The  springtime  smiled; 
the  sky  gloried,  and  its  golden  gleams  were  reflected 
in  an  azure  sea.  Joyous  cries  and  enthusiastic 
acclamations  resounded  on  land  and  sea.  The 
Straits  of  Dover  were  filled  with  vessels  hung  with 
flags.  All  England  seemed  making  a  cortege  for 
the  King  of  France.  The  terrible  cannons  of  the 
two  nations,  which  had  so  often  thundered  against 
each  other,  united  gladly  in  salvos  of  concord  and 
rejoicing.  The  white  flag  floated  at  every  mast- 
head, applause  renewed  itself  on  every  wave. 

At  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  King  embarked 
on  the  Royal  Sovereign,  the  finest  vessel  in  the 
English  fleet,  escorted  by  eight  men-of-war,  com- 
manded by  the  Duke  of  Clarence.  The  Prince 
Regent  looked  at  his  departing  guests  from  the  win- 
dows of  Dover  Castle,  and  made  them  signs  of 
farewell.  Aided  by  a  favoring  wind,  the  squad- 
ron advanced  rapidly.  Louis  XVIII.  impatiently 
awaited  the  moment  when  they  could  see  the  coast 
of  France.  God  be  praised!  There  it  is,  that 
beloved  coast,  that  coast  so  often  desired  amidst  the 


306  THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME 

long  griefs  of  exile !  There  is  the  end  of  so  many 
trials !  There  the  port  where,  after  so  many  storms, 
the  vessel  of  French  monarchy  is  about  to  seek  a 
shelter!  It  is  the  hour  of  safety  and  of  triumph. 

The  seacoast,  the  ramparts  of  Calais,  and  the 
high  places  along  the  shore  are  thronged  with  an 
innumerable  crowd.  The  King,  in  order  to  allow 
himself  to  be  recognized,  separates  from  the  group 
gathered  around  him  on  the  bridge  of  the  Royal  Sov- 
ereign. He  alone  takes  off  his  hat.  Lifting  his  eyes 
to  heaven,  and  laying  his  right  hand  on  his  heart, 
he  returns  thanks  to  Providence.  Then,  standing 
on  the  high  prow  of  the  ship,  he  holds  out  his  arms 
toward  the  shore  and  clasps  them  again  upon  his 
breast  as  if  to  embrace  his  country.  The  cannon 
roar.  The  bells  ring  with  all  their  might.  The 
cries  of  the  people  drown  the  murmur  of  the  ocean. 
Then  the  King  points  out  to  the  crowd  his  niece, 
the  Duchess  of  Angoul6me,  who  has  approached 
him.  At  the  sight  of  the  saintly  Princess,  whose 
woes  are  already  legendary,  enthusiasm  reaches  its 
height.  The  holy  woman,  whose  soul  is  ordinarily 
straitened  by  sadness  and  chagrin,  trembles.  She 
weeps,  but  it  is  with  joy.  Such  a  sentiment  is  so 
unfamiliar  to  her  that  she  sometimes  asks  herself  if 
she  is  not  the  sport  of  some  enchanting  dream  from 
which  she  will  have  a  cruel  awakening.  So  radiant 
a  day  seems  not  to  have  been  made  for  the  daughter 
of  the  martyr  King  and  Queen,  for  the  orphan  of  the 
Temple,  for  the  woman  who  has  drained  to  the 


THE  END   OF  THE  EXILE  307 

dregs  the  cup  of  grief  and  bitterness.  Near  her 
may  be  seen  the  Prince  of  Conde"  and  the  Duke  of 
Bourbon,  one  of  whom  is  the  father  and  the  other 
the  grandfather  of  the  unfortunate  Duke  of  Enghien. 
From  the  shore  come  shouts  of  "There  he  is!  'Tis 
he!  the  King!  Long  live  the  King!  Long  live 
Madame !  Long  live  the  Bourbons !  "  The  authori- 
ties of  Calais  go  on  board  the  ship  and  offer  their 
homage  to  their  sovereign.  General  Maison  is  the 
first  French  general  admitted  to  the  honor  of  saluting 
him.  The  ill-luck  of  the  Bourbons  will  bring  them 
face  to  face  with  the  same  man,  sixteen  years  later, 
under  very  different  circumstances.  But  what  tri- 
umpher  dreams  of  future  catastrophes  ?  When  Louis 
XVIII.  lands  on  the  jetty,  leaning,  as  of  old  in  the 
icy  plains  of  Lithuania,  on  the  arm  of  the  daughter 
of  Louis  XVI.,  tears  flow  from  every  eye.  Alas !  this 
return  to  her  country  is  but  a  halting-place  on  the 
road  of  sorrow  for  the  unhappy  Princess.  The  exile 
which  ends  at  this  moment  is  to  begin  anew  eleven 
months  later. 


INDEX 


Alexander    I.,   his    sympathy  for, 
and  aid  to,  Louis    XVIII.,  258; 
at  Mittau,  270;  his  indifference 
to  Louis  XVIII.,  after  Waterloo, 
287;   considers  Bernadotte  as  a 
possible  ruler  for  France,  291. 
Angouleme,  Duchess  of,  the  part 
played  by  her,  5 ;   character  of, 
contrasted  with  that  of  the  Duch- 
ess of  Berry,  7,  38 ;  her  life-long 
aversion  to   the   scenes  of    her 
early    sufferings,    8;    resembles 
her  father,  9 ;  birth  of,  12 ;  relig- 
ious  advice   of  her   father,  13; 
vicissitudes  of  her  life,  13  et  seq.; 
married  to  the  Duke  of  Angou- 
leme, 15 ;  called  the  French  Aii- 
tigone,  16;  her  series  of  exiles, 
19;    death  of  her  husband,  19; 
her  death,  20;    her    journal   in 
captivity,  49;  her  anxiety  con- 
cerning her  mother,  57 ;  rigorous 
captivity  of,  58 ;  deprived  of  the 
services  of  her  attendant,  58 ;  ex- 
amination of,  by  members  of  the 
Convention,  60;  ignorant  of  her 
mother's  death,  04 ;  consoled  by 
the    presence    and    counsels    of 
Madame  Elisabeth,  66 ;  her  trib- 
ute to  Madame  Elisabeth,  76 ;  in 
solitary  confinement,  78 ;  visited 
by  Robespierre,  80;  follows  the 
daily  routine  prescribed  by  her 
aunt,  82 ;  illness  of,  83 ;   her  ac- 
count   of    Ban-as'   visit,  85;    in 
charge  of    Laurent,  86  et  seq. 
the  rigors  of  her  captivity  ame 
liorated,  88;  not  allowed  to  nurse 
her  brother,  96 ;  in  ignorance  o 
her    brother's    death,    105;    the 


severity  of  her  captivity  relaxed, 
111 ;  Madame  de  Chantereine  as- 
signed  as   her  companion,  112, 
127;  learns  of  the  death  of  her 
relatives,  112 ;  clothes  and  books 
given  her,  113;  Hue  and  others 
sing    to    her    from    an    apart- 
ment adjoining  the  Temple,  114 ; 
visited  by  Madame  de  Tourzel 
and  her  daughter,  116  et  seq.; 
relates  to  them  details  of    her 
captivity,  120   et  seq.;   her  ap- 
pearance,   121;    her   resolve   to 
marry  the  Duke  of  Angoul^me' 
126;     correspondence    of,    with 
Louis   XVIII.,    130;    has    more 
freedom  and  is  again  serenaded, 
131;    her    appearance    and   de- 
meanor, 133 ;  hopes  for  a  royalist 
reaction,    and    is   disappointed, 
136   et   seq.;    interrogated  with 
regard  to  the  movement  in  Paris, 
141 ;    ransom  for,   proposed   by 
the  Vienna  Cabinet,  142  et  seq.; 
negotiations  successful,  148;  re- 
ceives the  news  of  her  deliver- 
ance without    enthusiasm,  149; 
asks    for    her    mother's   things 
and  is  refused,  150;  her  depart- 
ure from  the  Temple,  154  et  seq.; 
the  inscription  made  by  her  on 
the  walls  of  her  apartment,  155; 
her  travelling  companions  and  in- 
cidents of  her  journey  to  Vienna, 
157  et  seq.;  refuses  to  accept  the 
trousseau  furnished  by  the  Direc- 
tory, 161,  166;    delivered  to  the 
Austrian    authorities,    166;    ar- 
rives at  Vienna,  168 ;  is  installed 
in  the  imperial  palace,  171;  in- 

309 


310 


PXDEX 


terest  felt  in  her,  171;  Madame 
de  Soucy  separated  from  her, 
172 ;  the  prisoner  of  Austria,  174 ; 
moral  force  of,  174 ;  is  the  subject 
of  Austrian  schemes,  176  et  seq.; 
offended  by  the  proceedings  of 
the  Austrian  court,  179;  goes  to 
join  Louis  XVIII.  at  Mittau,  182; 
her  opinion  of  the  emigres,  192 ; 
her  sympathy  for  them,  199 ;  her 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  200; 
arrives  at  Mittau,  217;  descrip- 
tion of,  by  the  Count  of  Saint- 
Priest,  218;  presented  by  Louis 
XVIII.  to  his  household,  219  et 
seq.;  her  marriage  to  the  Duke 
of  Angouleme,  223  et  seq.;  letter 
of,  to  Paul  I.,  223;  marriage 
ceremony  between,  and  the  Duke 
of  Angouleme  at  Mittau,  227 ; 
the  marriage  certificate,  228; 
the  signers  of  it,  229;  presents  to, 
and  from,  234;  her  miniature, 
234;  influence  of  her  pure  and 
lofty  character,  236;  her  appear- 
ance at  Mittau  described  by 
Abbe'  Georgel,  239;  suffers  from 
the  state  of  dependence  she  is  in, 
241 ;  begs  for  two  days'  grace  be- 
fore leaving  Mittau,  251;  hard- 
ships of  her  journey,  252,  257 ; 
pledges  her  diamonds,  256;  let- 
ter of,  to  the  Queen  of  Prussia, 
257 ;  joined  by  her  husband  at 
Warsaw,  258;  letter  of,  to  the 
Prince  of  Conde  on  the  murder 
of  the  Duke  of  Enghien,  262; 
rejoices  in  her  uncle's  protest 
against  the  Empire,  2(55 ;  at  home 
in  Warsaw,  268;  goes  to  Mittau, 
268 ;  nurses  the  Abbe'  Edgeworth, 
who  dies  in  her  arms,  269;  at 
Hartwell,  273;  her  relations  to 
Louis  XVIII.,  278;  appears  at 
the  English  court,  278:  her  life 
at  Hartwell,  280;  her  household 
there,  280;  enters  London  with 
Louis  XVIII.,  300;  returns  to 
France,  306. 


Augouleme,  Duke  of,  Ixmis  XVI. 's 
desire  to  marry  Marie  The'rese 
to,  126;  not  allowed  to  come  to 
Vienna,  180;  offends  Peter  I. 
in  the  matter  of  the  Order  of 
Malta,  212:  description  of,  221 
et  seq. ;  leaves  Mittau  for  Conde's 
army,  241 ;  letter  of,  to  the  Czar, 
241 ;  with  the  army  at  Poutaba, 
242 ;  rejoins  his  wife  at  Warsaw ,- 
258;  issues  a  proclamation  to 
Soult's  army,  288;  enters  Bor- 
deaux and  takes  possession  in 
the  name  of  Louis  XVIII.,  296: 
proclamation  of,  297;  asks  Wel- 
lington for  men  and  money, 
297. 

Artois,  Count  of,  unable  to  be  pres- 
ent at  the  marriage  of  Marie 
The'rese,  225:  letter  of,  to  Louis 
XVIII.  on  the  subject,  226;  his 
declaration  of  adherence  to  the 
cause  of  Louis  XVIII.,  2C6 ;  often 
at  Hartwell,  280;  decides  1.. 
leave  England  with  his  SODS, 
289;  lands  in  Holland,  288;  au- 
thorized to  come  to  Nancy,  2!>2. 

Austria,  designs  of,  as  to  the  mar- 
riage of  Marie  The'rese,  164. 

Auger,  Count  of,  commander  of 
the  guard  provided  for  Louis 
XVIII.  by  Paul  I.,  209. 

Avaray,  Count  of,  sent  by  Louis 
XVIII.  to  conduct  Marie  The'rese 
to  Verona,  164;  the  favorite  of 
Louis  XVIII.  at  Hartwell,  281: 
death  of,  283. 

Barante,  Baron  of,  describes  the 
court  of  Louis  XVIII.  at  Mittau. 
210,  214;  criticises  the  instrii'1- 
tions  of  Louis  XVIII.  to  Saint- 
Priest,  244. 

Barras,  arrests  Robespierre,  84; 
pays  a  visit  to  the  Temple  and 
sees  Marie  The'rese,  85;  made 
guardian  of  the  children  of  Louis 
XVI.,  86;  his  compassion  for  the 
young  Prince,  96. 


INDEX 


311 


Barere  accuses  Robespierre  of  wish- 
ing to  marry  Marie  The'rese,  84. 

Beauharnais,  Eugene,  spoken  of  as 
a  possible  ruler  for  France,  291. 

Benezech  tries  to  make  favor  with 
the  Bourbons,  150  et  seq. ;  an- 
nounces to  the  Princess  the  time 
of  her  departure,  153  et  seq. 

Bernadotte,  talked  of  as  a  possible 
ruler  for  France,  287,  291. 

Berry,  Duchess  of,  the  part  played 
by  her,  5 ;  character  of,  con- 
trasted with  that  of  the  Duchess 
of  Angouleme,  7,  38;  her  roman- 
tic disposition,  •  10 ;  birth  and 
aucestry  of,  21 ;  married  to  the 
Duke  of  Berry,  21 ;  her  entry 
into  France,  22;  death  of  her 
infants,  23 ;  her  husband  stabbed, 
24;  birth  of  her  son,  25;  her 
popularity  and  fascination,  26; 
her  valor,  27;  at  Holyrood,  28; 
returns  to  France,  29;  in  hiding, 
29;  arrested,  31;  taken  to  the 
citadel  of  Blaye,  33;  her  secret 
marriage  with  Count  Palli,  34 ; 
her  political  career  ended,  35; 
loses  her  daughter  and  her  hus- 
band, 37 ;  her  death,  38. 

Berry,  Duke  of,  stabbed,  24;  lands 
on  the  island  of  Jersey,  289; 
letter  of,  quoted  by  Chateau- 
briand, 289. 

Beresford,  General,  occupies  Bor- 
deaux, 295,  296. 

BiTtin,  M.  Ernest,  disproves  the 
claims  of  the  pretenders  to  the 
title  of  Louis  XVII.,  106. 

Beurnouville.  career  of,  145. 

Blacas,  M.  de,  succeeds  M.  d'Ava- 
ray,  as  the  favorite  of  Louis 
XVIII.,  283;  jealousy  of,  283. 

Blaye,  citadel  of,  33  et  seq. 

Bonaparte,  see  Napoleon. 

Bordeaux,  Louis  XVIII.  proclaimed 
at,  295;  deputation  from,  to 
Louis  XVIIL,  297  et  seq. 

Calmar,  Louis  XVIIL  at,  -JG6. 


Caraman,  M.  de,  banished  by  the 
Czar  from  St.  Petersburg,  250. 

Chambord,  Count  of,  attachment  of 
to  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme, 19. 

Chantelauze,  M.,  his  book  on  Louis 
XVII.,  91:  destroys  the  claims 
of  the  pretenders  to  the  name 
of  Louis  XVIL,  10(5  et  seq. 

Chantereine,  Madame  de,  assigned 
by  the  Committee  of  Public 
Safety  as  companion  to  Marie 
The'rese,  111 ;  her  report  to  the 
committee,  112 ;  description  of, 
127. 

Chateaubriand,  his  Buonaparte 
and  the  Bourbons,  7;  quoted, 
8;  his  devotion  to  the  Duchess 
of  Angouleme,  19;  undertakes 
to  reconcile  the  Duchess  of  Berry 
with  Charles  X.,  34 ;  on  the  mar- 
riage of  the  Duchess  of  Angou- 
leme, 232 ;  quoted,  261. 

Chauveau-Lagarde,  defends  Ma- 
dame Elisabeth  before  the  revo- 
lutionary tribunal,  71. 

Choisy,  Mademoiselle  de,  chosen 
by  Marie  The'rese  as  maid  of 
honor,  237. 

Concerts  in  the  Rotunda  of  the 
Temple  to  Marie  The'rese,  132. 

Conde',  Prince  of,  entertains  Paul 
I.  at  Chantilly  in  1782,  206;  at 
Hart  well,  280;  letter  of,  to  the 
Duke  of  Berry,  281. 

Conde,  the  army  of,  193 ;  licentious 
and  disorderly,  195  et  seq. ;  an- 
nouncement of  the  marriage  of 
the  Duchess  of  Angouleme  to, 
2:«;  disbanded,  257. 

Contades,  Count  of,  remarks  of,  on 
the  conduct  of  the  emir/re's,  193, 
194. 

Catherine  the  Great,  her  interest 
in  the  French  e'migr^s,  202;  lias 
little  sympathy  with  Louia 
XVIIL,  205. 

Darboy,  Mgr.,  on  Madame  Elisa- 
beth, 54. 


312 


INDEX 


Desault,  Dr.,  emotion  of,  over 
the  wretched  condition  of  Louis 
XVII.,  102;  death  of,  103. 

Deutz  betrays  the  Duchess  of 
Berry,  32. 

Didier,  M.  Charles,  interview  of, 
with  the  Dnchess  of  Angouleme, 
20. 

Doupanloup,  Mgr.,  quoted,  4. 

Drouet,  one  of  the  prisoners  ex- 
changed for  Marie  Therese,  144. 

Dugnigny,  Demoiselles,  the  Duch- 
ess of  Berry  in  hiding  with, 
20. 

Dumas,  President  of  the  revolu- 
tionary tribunal,  his  interroga- 
tion of  Madame  Elisabeth,  70. 

Edgeworth,  Abbe,  sent  for  by  Ma- 
rie The'rese,  219 ;  death  of,  269. 

Elisabeth,  Madame,  the  sole  com- 
panion of  Marie  The'rese  in  the 
Temple,  52;  her  pure  and  ele- 
vated character,  53  et  seq. ;  her 
daily  prayer  in  the  Temple,  54 ; 
her  patience  under  her  persecu- 
tion, 59;  her  pious  instructions 
and  consolations  to  Marie  The- 
rese, 66;  examination  of  by 
members  of  the  Convention,  (il ; 
taken  before  the  revolutionary 
tribunal,  68  et  seq. ;  the  act 
of  accusation  against  her,  69; 
interrogated  by  Dumas,  70 ;  con- 
demned to  death,  72;  exhorts 
p.nd  encourages  her  companions 
in  the  Conciergerie,  73;  at  the 
scaffold,  75 ;  her  last  words,  76. 

JSmiyrts,  their  opinion  of  Napo- 
leon, 6 ;  their  characteristics  and 
experiences,  192  et  seq. ;  at  Co- 
blentz,  195 ;  with  Conde',  195, 197 ; 
their  destitution,  198;  the  army 
of,  enters  Russia  in  the  service 
of  Paul  I.,  207. 

Enghien,  Duke  of,  sends  his  ad- 
hesion to  the  cause  of  Louis 
XVIII.,  201 ;  murder  of,  262. 

Eylau,  battle  of,  269. 


Ferrand,  M.,  his  description  of  tho 

examination  of  tho  Princesses  in 

the  Temple,  62. 
Fersen,   Count    of,   relates    Marie 

Antoinette's    comment    on    the 

emigration,  193. 
Francis  II.  gives  Marie  Therese  an 

establishment     in    the    imperial 

palace,  171 ;  his  children,  171. 
Frotte,   Count  of,  ;ill.>,uv<l  to  h;ive 

rescued  Louis  XVII.,  K>s. 

Ge'ramb,  Baron  of,  his  description 
of  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme, 
278  et  seq. 

Genet,  his  description  of  Paul  I., 
205. 

Georgel,  Abbe,  comes  to  Mittau, 
238  et  seq. ;  his  description  of 
the  court  of  Louis  XVIII.  there, 
239. 

Gomin,  testimony  of,  to  the  con- 
dition of  Louis  XVII.,  101 ;  paper 
given  to,  by  the  Princess  in  re- 
turn for  his  services,  162. 

Gourbillon,  Madame,  accompanies 
tho  Queen  Marie  Josephine  to 
Mittau,  217;  Louis  XVIII.  anx- 
ious to  get  rid  of  her,  216. 

Gustavus  III.  on  the  emigre's,  194. 

Havre,  Duke  of,  letter  of,  on  the 
ambitious  plans  of  Austria  with 
regard  to  Marie  Therese,  178. 

Hartwell,  the  manor  of,  purchased 
by  Louis  XVIII.,  273;  life  at, 
274. 

Hautefort,  Count  of,  his  account 
of  the  sale  of  the  diamonds  oi 
the  Duchess  of  AngoulC-me,  256. 

Heliert,  visit  of,  to  the  Temple,  58. 

Hompesch,  the  Grand  Master  of 
the  Order  of  Malta,  211. 

Hue,  Fran9ois,  arrest  of,  64 ;  sings 
to  the  Princess  fi'oin  a  room  ad- 
joining the  Temple,  114 ;  warned 
to  desist,  115;  brings  a  letter 
from  Louis  XVIII.  to  the  Prin- 
cess, 130 ;  testifies  to  the  increas- 


INDEX 


313 


ing  sympathy  for  the  Princess, 
151 ;  permitted  to  rejoin  the 
Princess  at  Huningue,  159;  al- 
lowed to  remain  in  Vienna,  173. 

Jeanroi,  Doctor,  assures  Madame 
de  Tourzel  of  the  death  of  Louis 
XVII.,  129. 

Kersabiec,  Mademoiselle,  in  hid- 
ing with  the  Duchess  of  Berry, 
29  et  seq. 

Kolb,  Adjutant,  escorts  Marie 
Therese  to  the  frontier  of  Swit- 
zerland, 167. 

Lafare,  Mgr.,  letter  of,  to  Louis 
XVIII.,  ou  Marie  Therese,  180. 

Lamartine,  quoted  with  regard  to 
Louis  XVIII.  and  the  Duchess  of 
Angouleme,  277 ;  quoted,  28G,  300, 
303. 

Lasne  replaces  Laurent  in  the  care 
of  the  children  of  Louis  XVI.,  101. 

La  Tour  d'Auvergne,  Countess  of, 
a  member  of  the  household  of 
the  Duchess  of  Angouleme,  238. 

Laurent,  put  in  provisional  charge 
of  the  children  of  Louis  XVI., 
86,97. 

Lehon,  Alfred,  his  I'Angleterre  et 
V Emigration  Fran<;aise,  quoted, 
175. 

Legitimists,  their  opinion  of  the 
Empire,  7. 

Louis  XVII.,  imprisonment  of,  in 
the  Temple,  56  et  seq.;  inhuman 
treatment  of,  by  his  jailor,  Simon, 
56,  122 ;  description  of  his  dun- 
geon, 90;  his  condition,  91;  in 
solitary  confinement,  92 ;  barbar- 
ous treatment  of,  93  et  seq.;  his 
wretched  condition,  98;  partial 
alleviation  of  it,  101;  Dr.  Desault 
in  attendence  upon  him,  102  ;  his 
last  sufferings  and  death,  104; 
numerous  claimants  of  his  name 
and  title,  105  et  seq.;  no  doubt 
as  to  his  death,  108. 

Louis  XVIII.,  letter  of,  to  Madame 


de  Tourzel  concerning  the  mar- 
riage of  Marie  Therese,  125 ;  sends 
Count  of  Avaray  to  bring  Marie 
The'rese  to  Verona,  164, 181;  his 
ancestry  and  character,  183;  his 
wife,  183,  184,  187,  190;  his  flight 
from  France,  184;  at  Cobleutz, 
185;  declares  himself  Regent  of 
France,  185 ;  at  Verona,  186 ;  his 
counsellors,  187;  at  Reigel,  188; 
wounded  by  a  musket  ball,  188; 
treated  like  an  outlaw,  189;  at 
Blankenburg,  190 ;  arrives  at  Mit- 
tau,  the  guest  of  Paul  I.,  202,  209 
et  seq. ;  respectfully  treated  by 
the  Russian  court,  211 ;  his  part  in 
the  affair  of  the  Grand  Order  of 
Malta,  212;  humiliated  by  his 
position,  214 ;  joined  by  his  wife, 
216 ;  letter  of,  to  Paul  I.  on  the 
marriage  of  Marie  Therese,  224 ; 
his  letters  to  Paul  I.  on  the  mar- 
riage of  the  Duke  and  Duchess 
of  Angouleme,  231;  letter  of,  to 
the  Prince  of  Conde,  232;  ad- 
dresses a  circular  letter  to  his 
diplomatic  agents,  233;  descrip- 
tion of  him  by  Abbe  Georgel, 
239;  his  pensions  from  Paul  I. 
and  the  King  of  Spain,  240 ;  de- 
ceives himself  concerning  a  res- 
toration, 243  et  seq. ;  his  expec- 
tations dashed  by  the  battle  of 
Marengo,  245;  expelled  from 
Russia,  249  et  seq. ;  sets  out  on 
his  journey,  252;  travels  as  the 
Count  of  Lille,  254;  at  Memel, 
255;  arrival  of  his  body-guard, 
255;  at  Warsaw,  257;  declara- 
tion of,  in  reply  to  Bonaparte's 
proposal,  259 ;  letter  of,  to  Bona- 
parte in  1800,  262;  letter  of,  to 
Charles  IV.,  returning  the  Golden 
Fleece,  264;  his  protest  against 
the  Empire,  264 ;  at  Calmar,  266; 
returns  to  Mittau,  268 ;  letter  of, 
concerning  the  death  of  the  Abb^ 
Edgeworth,  269;  leaves  Mittau 
for  Sweden,  271 ;  goes  to  Eng- 


811 


1XDEX 


land,  272;  buys  the  manor  of 
Hart  well,  273;  keeps  up  the 
semblance  of  royalty,  275 ;  death 
of  his  wife  and  her  burial  in 
Westminster  Abbey,  275  ;  his 
relations  with  the  Duchess  of 
Angouleme,  278;  letter  of,  to 
Alexander  I.  in  behalf  of  the 
French  prisoners  in  Russia,  285 
et  seq. ;  convinced  of  his  return 
to  France,  287;  receives  the 

'  homage  of  Bordeaux,  297 ;  and 
a  deputation  from  the  Borde- 
lais,  298;  response  of,  to  the 
letter  of  the  mayor  of  Bordeaux, 
299;  his  popularity  in  England, 
300;  enters  London  and  is  re- 
ceived by  the  Prince  Regent,  300 
et  seq. ;  his  reply  to  the  Prince 
Regent's  address,  302 ;  criticisms 
of  this  speech,  303;  decorates 
the  Prince,  304 ;  sails  for  France, 
SOS ;  his  arrival  there,  307. 

Louise  of  France,  Princess,  her 
career,  39. 

Lynch,  M.  de,  mayor  of  Bordeaux, 
sends  agents  to  Wellington,  294, 
295 ;  letter  of  ,to  Louis  XVIII.,299. 

Macartney,  Lord,  expresses  the 
sentiments  of  the  French  royal- 
ists of  Vienna  for  Austria,  176; 
his  letter  describing  Louis  XVIII., 
186. 

Mackau,  Baroness  of,  permitted  to 
visit  Marie  Therese  in  the  Tem- 
ple, 124;  writes  to  Louis  XVIII. 
concerning  her,  125. 

Malta  taken  by  Bonaparte,  211 ; 
given  to  the  Czar  by  Bonaparte, 
248 ;  seized  by  the  English,  249. 

Malta,  the  Order  of,  schemes  of 
Paul  I.  with  regard  to,  211  et  seq. 

Maistre,  Joseph  de,  his  comment 
on  the  treatment  of  the  emigre's 
by  the  Russians,  203. 

Marengo,  battle  of,  adjourns  the 
expectations  of  the  court  of 
Mittau,  245. 


Maret,  one  of  the  prisoner*  ex- 
changed for  Marie  Therese,  140. 

Marie  Antoinette,  a  study  of  her 
character  necessary  to  ;m  under- 
standing of  the  Revolution,  3;  in 
the  Temple,  48 ;  leaves  it  for  the 
Conciergerie,  49. 

Marie  .Josephine,  1&3,  187,  190: 
joins  Louis  XVIII.  at  Mittau 
21(5;  death  of,  at  Hart  well,  aud 
burial  in  Westminster  Abbey, -T.'i. 

Marie  Louise,  the  little,  receives 
much  attention  from  Marie  The- 
rese, 171. 

Marie  The'rese,  see  Duchess  of 
Angouleme. 

Marriage  of  the  Duke  of  Angou- 
leme and  Marie  Therese  at  Mit- 
tau, 227  etse.q. 

Michelet,  quoted,  4. 

Mittau,  account  of,  210;  Louis 
XVIII.  at,  IX)  et  seq.;  the  court 
at,  its  personnel  and  support,  240. 

Montmorency-Laval,  Cardinal,  per- 
forms the  marriage  ceremony  of 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Angou- 
leme, 227. 

Napoleon,  how  regarded  by  the 
tfouV/re's,  6;  and  by  the  legiti- 
mists, 7  ;  Chateaubriand's  bro- 
chure on  him,  7;  his  debut 
on  the  13th  Vendemiaire,  138: 
gives  Malta  to  the  Czar,  248; 
letter  of,  to  Louis  XVIII. 
and  the  Bourbons,  276 :  his  court 
like  theirs,  277. 

Narbonne,  Countess  of,  at  Hart- 
well,  274. 

Naundorff ,  pretender  to  the  title  of 
Louis  XVII.,  106. 

Orleans,  deputation  from,  demand 
the  release  of  Marie  Therese,  110. 

Parma,  Duke  of,  assassination  of, 
36;  his  marriage  to  Louise  of 
France,  41. 

Paul    I.,    enthusiastic    for    Louis 


INDEX 


XVIII.  and  the  emigres,  205 ;  his 
character,  205;  his  reception  at 
Versailles  in  1782,  206,  224 ;  takes 
Conde's  army  into  his  pay,  207 ; 
gives  Louis  XVIII.  a  refuge  at 
Mittau,  209;  his  schemes  con- 
cerning the  order  of  Malta,  211 ; 
jealous  of  his  guest,  Louis  XVIII. , 
2U;  finds  the  court  of  Louis 
XVIII.  at  Mittau  a  burden,  215; 
signs  the  marriage  certificate  of 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Angou- 
leme,  232;  becomes  infatuated 
with  the  First  Consul,  246 ;  cause 
of  his  change  of  attitude  towards 
Louis  XVIII.,  247;  becomes  the 
ally  of  Bonaparte,  249;  assassi- 
nation of,  258. 

Pichegru,  General,  communicates 
the  proposal  of  the  exchange  of 
Maria  Therese  to  General  Stein, 
147. 

Polastron,  Madame  de,  beloved  by 
the  Count  of  Artois,  280. 

Prince  Regent,  address  of,  to  Louis 
XVIII.,  302. 

Puymaigre,  Count  of,  his  account 
of  the  march  of  Conde's  army  to 
Russia,  257 ;  quoted,  257. 

Richard,  Madame,  sends  word  of 

Marie  Antoinette  to  the  Temple, 

63. 
Richmont,  pretended  son  of  Louis 

XVI.,  108. 
Robespierre,  visits  Marie  Therese 

in  the  Tower,  80 ;  overthrow  of, 

84,  86. 
Remain,  Count  of,  quoted,  168. 

Sainte-Beuve,  his  description  of  the 
journal  of  Marie  The'rese,  49. 

Saint-Priest,  Count  of,  sent  by 
Louis  XVIII.  to  Vienna  with  in- 
structions to  ask  for  a  recogni- 
tion, 243. 

Serent,  Madame  de,  with  the  Duch- 
ess of  Angouleme  at  Mittau,  237. 

Simon,  the  Cobbler,  the  jailor  of 


Louis  XVII.,  56;    gives  up  his 

position,  92. 
Soucy,   Madame   de,  accompanies 

Marie  Therese  to  Vienna,  152; 

separated  from  her,  172. 
Sorel,   Albert,  his  I'Europe  ct  la 

Revolution  fran<;aise,  quoted,  203 

et  seq. 
Stein,  General,  147. 

Temple,  the,  its  associations  and  a 
description  of,  45  et  seq.;  the 
apartments  of  the  royal  family 
in,  47. 

Thiers,  pays  too  little  attention  to 
Josephine  in  his  history,  3;  his 
bargain  with  Deutz,  32. 

Thugut,  Baron,  hostile  to  the  Emi- 
gres, 177 ;  his  ambitious  schemes 
for  Austria  with  regard  to  Marie 
Therese,  178. 

Tison,  the  attendant  of  the  Prin- 
cesses in  the  Temple,  removed,  59. 

Tourzel,  Duchess  of,  her  visit  to 
Marie  Therese,  81 ;  extract  from 
her  journal,  88 ;  extract  from  her 
Memoirs  relating  to  Louis  XVII., 
101 ;  visits  the  Princess,  116 ;  her 
relations  to  the  royal  family,  117 ; 
her  loyalty  to  them,  118 ;  obtains 
permission  to  visit  the  Princess 
regularly,  119,  124;  her  descrip- 
tion of  Madame  Chantereine,  127 ; 
shows  Dr.  Jeanroi  a  portrait  of 
the  Prince  and  is  assured  of 
his  death,  129;  brings  about  a 
correspondence  between  Louis 
XVIII.  and  the  Princess,  130; 
forbidden  to  visit  the  Temple, 
141;  not  allowed  to  accompany 
Marie  The'rese  to  Vienna,  150. 

Tressau,  Abbe  de,  his  description 
of  the  reception  of  Marie  Th6- 
rese  at  Mittau,  209  et  seq. 
Treilhard,  advocates  in  the  Conven- 
tion the  exchange  of  Marie  Th6- 
rese,  142. 

Turgy,  carries  news  of  Marie  An- 
toinette to  the  Princesses,  63. 


316 


INDEX 


Viel-Castel,  M.  de,  his  History  of 
the  Restoration  quoted,  284 ; 
condemns  the  speech  of  Louis 
XVIII.,  in  reply  to  the  Prince 
Regent,  303. 

Vitrolles,  M.  de,  interviews  of, 
with  Metternich  and  the  Czar, 
291,  292;  memoirs  of,  quoted 
with  regard  to  Bonaparte  and 
the  Bourbons,  276;  describes 
Louis  XVIII. 's  relations  to  his 
court  at  Hartwell,  281 ;  hears  of 
the  Count  of  Artois'  arrival  in 
France,  290. 

Warin,  Regnault,  his  romance  of 


the  pretended  Louis  XVII.s. 
106. 

Warsaw,  Louis  XVIII.  at,  257 ;  the 
Duchess  of  Angouleme  at  home 
in,  268. 

Wansted  House,  declaration  dated 
at,  from  the  Count  of  Artois,  the 
Duke  of  Berry,  and  others, 
260. 

Wellington,  Lord,  has  little  sym- 
pathy with  the  Bourbons,  294; 
approached  by  the  mayor  of 
Bordeaux,  294;  decides  to  occupy 
that  city,  295 ;  refuses  to  aid  the 
Bourbon  cause,  298. 

Woman,  the  influence  of,  too  much 
neglected  in  history,  3. 


Typography  by  J.  S.  Gushing  &  Co.,  Boston. 
Presswork  by  Berwick  &  Smith,  Boston. 


FAMOUS  WOMEN   OF  THE 
FRENCH  COURT. 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS,  PUBLISHERS. 


the  past  two  years  the  publishers  have  issued 
translations  often  of  M.  Imbert  de  Saint- Amand's  histori- 
cal works,  relating  to  the  momentous  and  agitated  period  dating 
from  the  beginnings  of  the  French  Revolution  to  the  seating 
of  Louis  XVIII.  on  the  throne  of  his  ancestors  after  the  battle 
of  Waterloo.  Of  these  three  have  had  as  a  nucleus  the  historic 
portion  of  the  life  of  Marie  Antoinette,  three  that  of  the  life  of 
Josephine,  and  four  are  devoted  to  the  events  centring  around 
the  figure  of  the  Empress  Marie  Louise.  The  success  of  these 
works  has  been  so  unequivocal  from  the  first,  that  the  pub- 
lishers have  begun  the  issue  of  the  important  volumes  of  M. 
de  Saint-Amand's  series  relating  to  the  period  immediately 
following  the  Napoleonic  era,  the  period  of  the  Restoration. 
Of  this  period  the  author's  "  famous  women  of  the  French 
Court"  are  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme  and  the  Duchess  of 
Berry.  Like  their  predecessors  these  volumes  are  largely 
biographical  and  possess  the  lively  interest  belonging  to 
personality,  but,  as  before  also,  they  are  equally  pictures  of 
the  times  to  which  they  relate,  and  are  largely  made  up  of 
contemporary  memoirs  and  letters  and  original  documents. 

The  period  itself,  though  on  account  of  its  proximity  to 
the  era  of  France's  most  stirring  annals  and  greatest  glory  it 
has  been  overshadowed  in  popular  imagination,  is  one  of  the 
greatest  interest,  and,  in  fact,  the  first  two  volumes  largely 


FAMOUS  WOMEN  OF  THE  FRENCH  COURT. 

relate  to  the  Imperial  epoch,  viewed  from  the  side  of  the 
Royalist  emigres.  The  story  of  the  exiled  Bourbons  and  their 
adherents  during  these  days  has  rarely  been  told,  and 
especially  novel  and  interesting  is  the  account,  from  the  inside, 
of  the  panic  and  flight  of  the  king  and  his  party  at  the  time  of 
the  dramatic  return  from  Elba.  The  exile  at  Ghent  followed, 
then  Waterloo  and  the  second  return  of  the  Bourbons  this 
time  exasperated  and  vindictive,  the  trials  and  execution  of 
General  Labe*doyere  and  Marshal  Ney,  the  escape  of  Lavalette, 
the  reconstitution  of  society  as  it  settled  into  grooves  of  peace 
after  so  many  years  of  war,  the  assassination  of  the  Duke  of 
Berry,  the  Ministry  of  the  Duke  Decazes,  and  the  political 
conduct  of  the  close  of  Louis  XVIII. 's  reign. 

Of  this  period  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme  at  first  and  then 
the  Duchess  of  Berry  were  the  salient  feminine  figures.  The 
former  notably  was  a  woman  of  force  and  influence,  besides 
exercising  authority  as  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie 
Antoinette,  and  arousing  interest  and  sympathy  for  the 
sufferings  of  her  early  life  when  she  was  a  prisoner  in  the 
Temple  and  was  successively  bereft  of  her  father,  mother, 
aunt,  and  brother.  No  children  having  been  born  of  her 
marriage  with  her  cousin,  the  son  of  the  future  Charles  X.,  the 
eyes  of  the  Court  and  nation  were  turned  toward  the  lively  and 
charming  Duchess  of  Berry  after  her  union  with  the  younger 
brother  of  the  Duke  of  Angouleme,  the  union  from  which 
sprang  the  late  Count  of  Chambord,  and  the  more  sprightly 
and  adventurous  Neapolitan  succeeded  her  graver  sister-in-law 
as  the  centre  of  Court  society.  Of  both  these  contrasting  and 
interesting  personalities,  as  well  as  of  a  score  of  others 
influential  at  this  time,  M.  de  Saint-Amand  has  drawn  most 
speaking  portraits,  and  added  to  the  historical  value  of  his 
books  a  very  great  biographic  interest. 


FAMOUS  WOMEN'  OF  THE  FRENCH  COURT. 

VOLUMES  ON   THE  RESTORATION  PERIOD. 
Each    with    Portrait,    i2mo,    cloth,    $1.25 ;     half  calf,    $2.50. 

THE   YOUTH    OF   THE    DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME. 

The  period  covered  in  this  first  of  the  volumes  devoted  to  the  Restoration, 
begins  with  the  life  of  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette  im- 
prisoned in  the  Temple  after  the  execution  of  her  parents,  and  ends  with  the 
accession  of  Louis  XVIII.  after  the  abdication  of  Napoleon  at  Fontainebleau. 
The  events  described  are  the  last  days  of  the  Terror,  and  the  adventures  of  the 
exiled  Royalists  during  the  Consular  and  Imperial  epoch. 

THE  DUCHESS  OF  ANGOULEME  AND   THE  TWO  RESTORATIONS,     (fn  Press.) 

The  first  Restoration,  its  illusions,  the  characters  of  Louis  XVIII.,  of  his 
brother,  Monsieur,  afterwards  Charles  X.,  of  the  Dukes  of  Angouleme  and 
Berry,  sons  of  the  latter,  the  life  of  the  Court,  the  feeling  of  the  city, 
Napoleon's  sudden  return  from  Elba,  the  heroic  efforts  of  the  Duchess  of 
Angouleme  to  stem  the  tide  of  imperialism,  the  Hundred  Days  from  the 
Royalist  side,  the  second  Restoration,  and  the  vengeance  taken  by  the  new 
government  on  the  Imperialists,  form  the  subject  matter  of  this  volume. 

THE    DUCHESS   OF    BERRY    AND    THE    COURT   OF    LOUIS    XVIII.     (In   Press.) 

Immediately  upon  her  marriage  with  the  Duke  of  Berry  the  Neapolitan 
princess  Caroline  became  the  central  figure  of  the  Court  of  Louis  XVIII.,  an 
account  of  the  main  portion  of  whose  reign,  rendered  eventful  by  the  assassina- 
tion of  the  Duke  of  Berry,  the  birth  of  the  Count  of  Chambord,  heir  to  the 
throne  and  the  last  of  the  French  Bourbons,  the  war  with  Spain,  and  the 
political  struggle  between  liberalism  and  absolutist  tendencies. 

***  OTHER   VOLUMES  IN  PR  EPA  R  A  TION. 


"In  these  translations  of  this  interesting  series  of  sketches,  tue 
have  found  an  unexpected  amount  of  pleasure  and  profit.  The 
author  cites  for  tis  passages  front  forgotten  diaries,  hitherto  un- 
earthed letters,  extracts  from  public  proceedings,  and  the  like,  and 
contrives  to  combine  and  arrange  his  material  so  as  to  make  a  great 
many  very  vivid  and  pleasing  pictures.  Nor  is  this  all.  The 
material  he  lays  before  its  is  of  real  value,  and  much,  if  not  most 
of  it,  must  be  unknown  save  to  the  special  students  of  the  period.  IVe 
can,  therefore,  cordially  commend  these  books  to  the  attention  of  our 
readers.  They  will  find  them  attractive  in  their  arrangement, 
never  dull,  with  much  variety  of  scene  and  incident,  and  admirably 
translated." — THE  NATION,  of  December  19,  1890 


FAMOUS  WOMEN  OF  THE  FRENCH  COURT. 


VOLUMES   PREVIOUSLY   ISSUED. 


THREE  VOLUMES  ON  MARIE  ANTOINETTE. 
Each  with  Portrait,  $1.25.    Price  per  set,  in  box,  cloth,  $3.75  ;  half  calf  ,  $7.50. 

MARIE    ANTOINETTE   AND   THE    END    OF  THE    OLD    REGIME. 

MARIE   ANTOINETTE   AT  THE   TUILERIES. 

MARIE    ANTOINETTE    AND   THE    DOWNFALL   OF   ROYALTY. 

In  this  series  is  unfolded  the  tremendous  panorama  of  political  events  in 
which  the  unfortunate  Queen  had  so  influential  a  share,  beginning  with  the  days 
immediately  preceding  the  Revolution,  when  court  life  at  Versailles  was  so  gay 
and  unsuspecting,  continuing  with  the  enforced  journey  of  the  royal  family  to 
Paris,  and  the  agitating  months  passed  in  the  Tuileries,  and  concluding  with 
the  abolition  of  royalty,  the  proclamation  of  the  Republic,  and  the  imprisonment 
of  the  royal  family— the  initial  stage  of  their  progress  to  the  guillotine. 

THREE    VOLUMES  ON   THE  EMPRESS  JOSEPHINE. 

Each  with  Portrait,  $1.25.     Price  per  set,  in  box,  cloth,  $3.75;  half  calf  ,  $7.50. 
CITIZENESS   BONAPARTE. 
THE   WIFE   OF   THE   FIRST   CONSUL. 
THE   COURT   OF   THE    EMPRESS  JOSEPHINE. 

The  romantic  and  eventful  period  beginning  with  Josephine's  marriage,  com- 
prises the  astonishing  Italian  campaign,  the  Egyptian  expedition,  the  coup 
cfitat  of  Brumaire,  and  is  described  in  the  first  of  the  above  volumes,  while  the 
second  treats  of  the  brilliant  society  which  issued  from  the  chaos  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  over  which  Madame  Bonaparte  presided  so  charmingly,  and  the  third 
of  the  events  between  the  assumption  of  the  imperial  title  by  Napoleon  and  the 
end  of  1807  including,  of  course,  the  Austerlitz  campaign. 

FOUR  VOLUMES  ON  THE  EMPRESS  MARIE  LOUISE. 
Each  with  Portrait,  $1.25.     Price  per  set,  in  box,  cloth,  $5.00;  half  calf ',  $10.00. 

THE    HAPPY   DAYS  OF   MARIE    LOUISE. 

MARIE   LOUISE   AND   THE    DECADENCE  OF    THE    EMPIRE. 

MARIE    LOUISE   AND  THE    INVASION    OF   1814. 

MARIE  LOUISE,  THE  RETURN    FROM  ELBA,  AND  THE  HUNDRED  DAYS. 

The  auspicious  marriage  of  the  Arch-duchess  Marie  Louise  to  the  master  of 
Europe  ;  the  Russian  invasion  with  its  disastrous  conclusion  a  few  years  later  ; 
the  Dresden  and  Leipsic  campaign  ;  the  invasion  of  France  by  the  Allies  and 
the  marvelous  military  strategy  of  Napoleon  in  1814,  ending  only  with  his 
defeat  and  exile  to  Elba  ;  his  life  in  his  little  principality  ;  his  romantic-escape 
and  dramatic  return  to  France  ;  the  preparations  of  the  Hundred  Days ; 
Waterloo  and  the  definitive  restoration  of  Louis  XVIII.  closing  the  era  begun 
in  1789,  with  "  The  End  of  the  Old  Re'gime,"  are  the  subjects  of  the  four 
volumes  grouped  around  the  personality  of  Marie  Louise. 


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