a/6 
 
 /?S6 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 LIBRARY 
 
 GIFT OF 
 C. G. Leland 
 
Cornell University Library 
 DC 216.D42 1856 
 
 3 1924 024 331 492 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924024331492 
 
LOUIS NAPOLEON 
 
 Aim THB 
 
 BONAPAETE FAMILY. 
 
BNOKiVEB 3YJ.SXRTMN. THE OS} 'GWAL BY JLXFOSSE. OCT* 1B4B. 
 
 

LOUIS NAPOLEON 
 
 AND 
 
 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY: 
 
 COMPRISING A 
 
 MEMOIR OF THEIR CONNECTIONS, 
 
 WITH 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF THEIR PRINCIPAL COTEMPORABIES, 
 
 AND A 
 
 SUMMARY OF FRENCH HISTORY, 
 
 INCLUDING THE 
 
 EMPIRE OF NAPOLEON IIL AND THE RUSSIAN WAR. 
 
 BT HENRY W. DE PUT, 
 
 AUTHOE OF "KOSSUTH AND HIS OSNKBALB," "ETHAN ALUM," BIO. 
 
 NEW YORK AND AUBURN: 
 MILLEE, OKTON & MULLIGAN. 
 
 New York: 25 Park Bow— Auburn: 107 Oenesee-st. 
 
 1856. 
 
 J0" 
 
3C 
 
 A -*&(^&3 t 
 
 c*^ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred 
 and fifty-six, 
 
 BY MILLER, OETON & MULLIGAN, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Northern District of New York. 
 
 au burn: 
 milleb, oeton a mulligan, 
 
 BTBBBOTYPBRS AND PKLNTEB3. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 There is not, perhaps, in the records of the world, so ex- 
 traordinary a family history as that of the Bonapartes. With 
 -Napoleon at their head, they suddenly sprang forward from 
 the profoundest obscurity, seized the mightiest scepters of 
 Europe, placed themselves upon its most ancient thrones, and 
 swayed the destinies of almost the entire civilized world. After 
 a few brief years of power, their fortunes ebbed, even more 
 rapidly than they had risen, and although the Bonapartes had 
 everywhere formed alliances, always illustrious and brilliant, and 
 sometimes royal, and were still conspicuous in nearly every court 
 on the continent of Europe, they appeared to be gradually 
 receding to the powerlessness and obscurity in which they 
 had originated. But again, in the person of Louis Napoleon 
 Bonaparte, the nephew and heir of the great Emperor, they 
 are attracting the attention of the world, and seem destined 
 yet to exercise a potential influence — whether for good or for 
 evil — over the destinies of Europe. 
 
 The purpose of the following pages has been to furnish, in 
 
 e 
 an accessible and convenient form, a memoir of the Bonaparte 
 
 family from the dawn of .their celebrity to the present time, 
 
 and to accompany it with a sketch of French history, and 
 
 biographical notices of the most distinguished persons who 
 
 have participated in the administration of French affairs, 
 
VI PEE FACE. 
 
 during the same period. No proper effort has been spared in 
 the execution of this design, and especial pains have been taken 
 to collect full and authentic information in regard to that mem- 
 ber of the Bonaparte family whose name gives this volume its 
 title, and whose connection with great national events confess 
 additional interest upon the details of his personal history. 
 
 Among the authorities consulted in the preparation of this 
 work are the following — The Prisoner of Ham ; Memes' Life of 
 Josephine; The Court and Camp of Bonaparte; Lockhart's Life 
 of Napoleon; Redhead's History of French Revolutions; Life 
 and Works of Louis Napoleon ; Lord Holland's Foreign Reminis- 
 cences ; Louis Blanc's History of Ten Years ; Lamartine's Res- 
 toration of Monarchy in France; Corkran's History of the 
 Constituent Assembly of France; Chambers' Miscellany; Cham- 
 bers' Papers for the People; Wikoff's Louis Napoleon ; Thiers' 
 History of the French Revolution ; Lamartine's Three Months 
 n Power; Coopers' Gleanings in Europe; Scotts' Life of Na- 
 poleon; The London Times; The American Naval Magazine; 
 and many of the English Reviews arid Magazines. The lan- 
 guage of these has been freely adopted in numerous instances — 
 there having been no ambition, in the preparation of the 
 following pages, to make an entirely original work. 
 
 The important events which have occurred in France during 
 the past three years, have induced the publishers to revise and 
 bring the work up to the present time, including a concise view 
 of the causes, events, and consequences of the Crimean War. 
 July, 1856. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPAKTE. 
 
 Characteristics of Revolutions— The French Revolution of 1798— 
 The Power of Opinion— Profligacy of the French Court previous 
 to the Revolution — the Catholic Priesthood — Debauchees at the 
 Confessional — The Palais Royal — The Catholic Church— Infi- 
 delity — Oppressive Laws — Maladministration of Justice — Indus- 
 try Paralyzed — The Bastile — Revolt of the People — Crimes and 
 Sufferings during the Revolution — The Reign of Terror — The 
 French Character— Napoleon Bonaparte — His Influence over 
 European Affairs — Parents of Bonaparte — Varying Fortunes of 
 the Bonaparte Family — Early History of the Bouapartes — They 
 are driven from Corsica — Arrest of Napoleon — His Poverty — He 
 Contemplates Suicide — His Dreams of Oriental Empire — His 
 Prompt Suppression of an Insurrection in Paris — The. Boy and 
 the Sword — Josephine — Her Romantic History — Her Opinion 
 of Napoleon — He Marries Her — Character of Josephine — Bona- 
 parte is Appointed to the Command of the Army in Italy — His 
 Extraordinary Successes — His Expedition to Egypt — His Ambi- 
 tion — The First Consul — Marengo — Eugene and Hortense — The • 
 Emperor — Marriage of Louis Bonaparte and Hortense — Letter 
 from Josephine to Hortense — Napoleon the Master of Europe- 
 He Distributes Crowns among his Brothers and Sisters — His 
 Divorce — His Marriage with Maria Louisa — Birth of the King 
 of Rome — Invasion of Russia — Disasters — Elba— Waterloo- 
 Children of Louis Bonaparte and Hortense — Birth of Louis 
 Napoleon— Napoleon Charles— Death of Napoleon Charles- 
 Anecdotes — Louis Napoleon and the Emperor — Presentiment for 
 Presentiment— The Exiles, --** 
 
Till CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 RESTORATION OF THE BOTJBBONS. 
 
 Fontainbleau— Infidelity and Immorality— Francis I. and the Wise 
 Fool — Tbe Dying King and the Courtiers — Adventure of Francis 
 I. — Diana of Poitiers and the Duchess d' Etampes — Catherine 
 de Medicis— Gabrielle d' Estrees — Henry IV. — Louis|XIV. — His 
 Queen and his Mistresses — Vice and Devotion — The Lady Gam- 
 blers — Madame de Maintenon — The Actress and Her Lover in 
 Lent — Death of Louis XIV. — His Manner of Converting the 
 Huguenots — Louis XV. — His Marriage with Marie Leczinska — 
 A Prince and his Tutor — Anecdotes of the Duke of Burgundy — 
 Pius VIL — Josephine at Fontainbleau — Napoleon and Maria 
 Louisa — Napoleon and Pius VII. — " Comedian " — " Tragedian " 
 — Abdication of Napoleon — Parting of Napoleon with the Im- 
 perial Guard — The King's Cabinet — Napoleon's Civil Adminis-' 
 tration — His Character — The Conscription — War and its Crimes 
 aud Miseries — The Passion for War — What a Declaration of 
 War really is — Review of Bonaparte's Career — The Bourbons — 
 Louis XVIII. — His Escape from France— He Seeks an Asylum 
 in England — The Son of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette — His 
 Imprisonment and Death — Louis XVIII. placed upon the 
 French Throne by the Allied Powers — His Policy — "Nothing 
 Learned, Nothing Forgotten" — Reign of Louis XVIII.— His 
 Death — Charles X. — His Gallantries — Madame Polastron, his 
 Mistress^Coronation of Charles X. — His Desire to Re-establish 
 Despotism — His Unpopularity — The Royal Family — The Soli- 
 tary Hurrah — Prince Polignac — Expedition against Algiers — 
 Discontent of the People — Character of Charles X. — Another 
 Revolution— The Pavements of Paris again Bathed with Blood- 
 Infatuation of Charles X.— Queen Hortense— Her Sons— Louis 
 Napoleon, __'_ gg 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE KEIGN OP LOUIS PHILIPPE. 
 
 The Three Days of July— Incidents— Victory of the People— De- 
 position of Charles X.— The Duke of Orleans— Exile of ,Charlei 
 
CONTENTS. IX 
 
 X. — Louis Philippe Chosen King — Parentage of Louis Philippe 
 — Character of his Father — Madame de Genlis — Education of 
 Louis Philippe — He Joins the Army — Anecdotes — Decapitation 
 of Louis Philippe's Father — Exile — Louis Philippe in Switzer- 
 land — He Becomes a Teacher — He Proposes to Visit the United 
 States — His Journey through Norway and Sweden — He Lands 
 at Philadelphia — Visits Washington — Proceeds to the West — His 
 Adventure with the Indians — He Visits Niagara Falls — Returns 
 to Philadelphia, — Poverty — The Rejected Lover — The Amateur 
 Surgeon — Return to Europe — Death of the Duke of Montpensier 
 — Marriage of Louis Philippe — His Effort to Engage in the Eu- 
 ropean Revolutions — His Interview with Danton — Louis Phil- 
 ippe again in France — Returns to Neuilly — Called to the 
 Throne of France — The Duchess de Berri — Administration of 
 Louis Philippe — Peace Sentiments — Family of Louis Philippe — 
 The Princess Adelaide — Her Death — Children of Louis Philippe 
 — The Duke of Orleans — His Marriage — The Duke of Nemours — 
 The Duke of Montpensier — Louisa Marie — Guizot — Anecdote — 
 Guizot's Marriage — His Literary Labors — His Political Fortunes 
 — His Personal Appearance — Thiers — His Early History — Thiers 
 as a Legislator — His Appearance — His Oratory — The War in 
 Algiers — Abd-el-Kader — How the French Exterminated the 
 Arabs — Cost of the War in Algiers — Anecdotes — The Emir and 
 the Bishop, 121 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 Jkjen Hortense — Her Sons in the Italian Revolution — Hortense 
 and Louis Napoleon in Paris — Louis Napoleon and the Poles — 
 His Generosity — His Work on the Swiss Confederacy — He De- 
 clines the Hand of the Queen of Portugal — His Correspondence 
 with Lafayette — His Plans for Revolutionizing France — His In- 
 terview with French Officers — Madame Gordon— Colonel Vau- 
 drey — Persigny — Louis Napoleon Enters Strasbourg — Letter to 
 his Mother— Speech to the Soldiers — Failure — Imprisonment — 
 Defense— Letter to Odilon Barrot— Louis Napoleon is sent to 
 America— Consternation of Louis Philippe— Trial of Louis Na- 
 poleon's Accomplices — Letter of Queen Hortense — Her Deatn— 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Louis Napoleon Leaves Switzerland — Goes to England — Death 
 of Charles X. — Death of the Duke d' Angoulerae — Removal of 
 the Ashes of Napoleon from St. Helena to Paris — Louis Na- 
 poleon at Boulogne — His Defeat; — His Attempt to Escape — His 
 Arrest — His Trial — His Imprisonment — His Address to the Re- 
 mains of the Emperor — The Fortress of Ham — The Constable's 
 Tower — The Capuchin Friar — A Lover's Revenge — Louis Na- 
 poleon's Literary Pursuits — His Works — The Nicaraugua Canal — 
 Illness of Louis Napoleon's Father — Escape of Louis Napoleon 
 — Dr. Conneau — Death of the Count of St Leu, 179 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 Review of Louis Philippe's Reign — His Purchase of Adherents — 
 Condition of the Country — Electoral Reform — Reform Banquets 
 — The King's Speech — Proposed Banquet in Paris — Its Suppres- 
 sion — Excitement of the People — The Barricades — Battles — The 
 Tricolor Victorious — Louis Philippe's Abdication — His Escape — 
 The Impromptu Monarch — The Duchess of Orleans — The Cham- 
 ber of Deputies — The Provisional Government — Its Proclama- 
 tion — Lamartine — His Early Life — The Sermon — Lamartine in 
 the Chamber of Deputies — Lamartine's Associates — Louis Phil- 
 ippe in Exile — His Character and Social Qualities — His Death— 
 The National Assembly — The Provisional Government Resign 
 their Authority into the Hands of the People's Representatives — 
 The June Insurrections — General Cavaignac — Louis Napoleon — 
 His Election to the National Assembly — His Declinature — His 
 Re-election — He enters the National Assembly — He becomes a 
 Candidate for the Presidency — His Addresses to the Nation — 
 Character and Services of General Cavaignac — The Presidential 
 Candidates — Election of Louis Napoleon, 248 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 Instability of the French Government— Changing Dynasties Bona- 
 parte Familv— Maria Louisa— Her Abandonment of Nanoleon in 
 
CONTENTS. XI 
 
 his Adversity— Count of Niepperg — The Duchy of Parma — Ex- 
 travagance of Alaria Louisa — Parmesan Scandals — Favorites of 
 Maria Lonisa — The Son of Bonaparte — Created Duke of Reich- 
 stadt — His Character — His Death — Joseph Bonaparte — His Early 
 Career — He declines the Crown of Lombardy — Becomes King 
 of Naples — Afterward accepts the Crown of Spain — Retires to 
 the United States — Declines the Crown of Mexico — Returns to 
 Europe — His Death — Lucien Bonaparte — His Legislative Career 
 — Quarrel with Napoleon — Refuses to be Placed on the Spanish 
 Throne — His Etruscan Farm — His Death — His Children — Louis 
 Bonaparte — King of Holland — His Philanthropy — His Literary 
 Works — Jerome Bonaparte — His American Wife — King of West- 
 phalia — His Dissipation — His Queen — Eliza Bonaparte — Pauline 
 Bonaparte — Her Character — Anecdotes — Caroline Bonaparte — 
 Her Love of Sway — Her Children — The Mother of Bonaparte — 
 Anecdote — Eugene Beauharnais — The Revolution of 1848 — Louis 
 Napoleon, 298 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 THE "COUP D'ETAT." 
 
 The National Will — Louis Napoleon's First Message — The Consti- 
 tution of France — The Seeds of Dissension — Louis Napoleon at 
 Ham — Parties in the Assembly — Acts of the Assembly — Speech 
 of Louis Napoleon — French Intervention in Rome — Pius IX. — 
 His Early History— His Elevation to the Pontificate— His Ef- 
 forts at Reform— Anecdote— The Pope and the Revolution— The 
 Popes Flight from Rome— His Return— Agitation of France- 
 Attitude of the President^The Suffrage Question— Increasing 
 Excitement^-The " Coup d' Etat"— Appeal to the People— Ar- 
 rest of General Changarnier— Of General Cavaignac— Of General 
 Lamoriciere— Of Other Members of the Assembly— Thiers— De- 
 cree of the Assembly— The Usurpation Resisted— Success of 
 Louis Napoleon— The Elections— The Inauguration of the Pre- 
 sident— The New Constitution— Arrests— Deportation of Politi- 
 cal Offenders— Destruction of the Freedom of the Press— 
 
Xii CONTENTS 
 
 Confiscation of the Orleans Estates— The Duchess of Orleans 
 
 Louis Napoleon's Self-vindication— Distribution of Medals 
 
 among the Military Officers— Oath of Allegiance— General La- 
 moriciere — Arago, the Astronomer — Independent Action of the 
 Courts — Adjournment of the Assembly and Senate — Presi- 
 dent's Journey to Strasbourg — Matrimonial Projects— Tour 
 through the Southern Departments — Significant Speeches at 
 Lyons and Bordeaux — Reception at Paris — Announcement of 
 the Empire to the Senate — " Senatus Consultum " — The Popu- 
 lar Tote— Inaugural Address— The Empress— Speech on the 
 Marriage — Marriage Ceremony — Imperial Clemency — Prosper- 
 ity of the Country — Acquiescence of the People — Rigor of the 
 Emperor's Rule — Cavaignac — Conclusion, 357 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAR. 
 
 Ambition of Nicholas — Disputes between him and the Sul- 
 tan — Announcement of the views of France — Attempt on 
 the life of Napoleon — Diplomatic Discussions — Russia in- 
 vades the Provinces — Turkey declares War — The Allied 
 Fleet in the Bosphorus — Affair of Sinope — Allied Fleet 
 enters the Black Sea — Letter from Napoleon to Nicholas — 
 France and England declare War — Attack ort Odessa — 
 Capture of Bomarsnnd — Troops sent to the East — Anecdote 
 of Barbes — Expedition to the Crimea — Battle of the Alma — , 
 Investment of Sebastopol — Skirmishes — Battle of Inkermann 
 — More Troops and new Loans — Winter in the Crimea — 
 Progress of the Siege — Death of Nicholas — Visit of Napo- 
 leon and Eugenie to England — Attempted Assassination — 
 Terrible Bombardment — Capture of Kertch — Fierce As- 
 saults — "Visit of Victoria to Paris — Battle of the Tchernaya 
 — Attack on the Malakoff — Fall of Sebastopol — Taking of 
 Kinburn — Treaty of Peace — Birth of a Sou — Position of the 
 French Emperor, # 430 
 
LOUIS NAPOLEOK 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 RETR OSPECTI VE. 
 
 The progress of the human mind, and of human so- 
 ciety, is seldom marked by regular and successive steps. 
 At some periods, civilization appears to be stationary ; 
 at others, even to retrograde ; at others again, to spring 
 forward with rapid, gigantic, and almost convulsive 
 strides. This irregularity of advance is, doubtless, os- 
 tensible rather than actual. Preparations are gradu- 
 ally made, ideas slowly matured, and the foundations 
 of the future superstructure laid with secret and patient 
 indiistry. But these subterranean workings are for 
 the most part unnoticed, till, in the fullness of time, a 
 rich harvest of consequences is developed with appa- 
 rent suddenness, from causes which have been accumu- 
 lating in silence for many years. 
 
 The fall of the Roman empire constituted one of 
 these great eras. It was the demarkation between the 
 old world and the new. From that period, society and 
 nations alike assumed a new aspect, and the world 
 commenced a new career. It was the moral deluge, 
 upon the abatement of which a new condition of 
 
14 EETROSPEOT. 
 
 society, new systems of government, and new methods 
 of thought sprung up. 
 
 The Reformation effected another mighty change. 
 It introduced pure religion into the realm of almost 
 pagan superstition, civil liberty into the empire of 
 tyranny, and science into the depths of national igno- 
 rance. One of its immediate and most momentous 
 consequences was the struggle for constitutional rights, 
 in England, in the seventeenth century — a struggle in 
 which civil liberty and religious freedom and tolerance 
 won their most substantial victory. 
 
 The great rebellion against feudal and mental op- 
 pression in France, which broke forth publicly in 1789, 
 and resulted in the overthrow of the French throne, is 
 among these memorable transitions, and is deeply in- 
 teresting to the present generation, being nearest to our 
 own days, most extraordinary in its character, and far- 
 spreading in its consequences. JSTo period in history 
 is more fertile in attractions — -none presents more 
 scenes of thrilling interest, more subtle problems of 
 character, more intricate intrigues, more truths of po- 
 litical philosophy, or more lessons of profound wisdom. 
 No period is richer in materials for the contemplation ■ 
 of the statesman, the moralist or the Christian. 
 
 The fall of the empires of the ancient world, exhib- 
 iting scenes of extensive suffering in their progress, 
 and melancholy calamity in their consummation, bore 
 a far different character. They all perished by in- 
 vasion. The foreign sword, of all the instruments of 
 ruin the most obvious, rude and simple, struck the dia- 
 dem from brows already sinking under the weight of 
 sovereignty, and the remains of empires mouldered 
 away by the course of nature. 
 
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 15 
 
 But the French monarchy was unassailed by any 
 external violence. In the midst of what seemed to the 
 eyes of Europe the full vigor of life, it perished in rapid 
 agonies, for which the public experience had no rem- 
 edy, and human annals scarcely a name. Like one 
 of those bodies whose flesh and blood turn into fire, it 
 consumed with internal combustion, and at length, 
 after an interval of indescribable torture, sunk in ashes, 
 and was no more. 
 
 This singular result was effected by the agency of a 
 new power — one which must inevitably prove stronger 
 than the fortresses or armed legions of despots — the 
 Power of Opinion ! In the old trials of empire, all the 
 motives of action were confined to the higher ranks. 
 "Wars were undertaken by ambitious princes to extend 
 their coiKjiii'sts, or they were occasioned by the rivalry 
 of aspirants to sovereignty. Dynasties might be 
 changed, but the institutions and the laws of the state, 
 the habits and condition of the masses of the people, 
 remained the same. Whatever might be the result, the 
 calamities of war fell with equal weight upon them, 
 while they never experienced its benefits. The French 
 Revolution was of a different character. It was a 
 warfare between the People and the Sovereign — a re- 
 bellion against Privilege and for Equality. It was not 
 a conflict to decide who should be recognized as the 
 oppressor of the people, but it was a warfare against 
 Oppression itself. 
 
 Perhaps the world never saw, since the days of Sar- 
 danapalus, a court so corrupt, a nobility so profligate, 
 and a state of society so utterly contemptuous of even 
 the decent affectation of virtue, as existed in France 
 
16 EETBOSPECT. 
 
 from the reign of Louis XIV. until the overthrow of 
 Louis XVI. A succession of dissolute women ruled 
 the king and controlled the deliberations of the cabi- 
 net ; lower life was a sink of corruption ; the whole a 
 romance of the most scandalous order. 
 
 Vice may have existed to a high degree of crisai- 
 nality in other lands ; but in no other country of Eu- 
 rope, or of the earth, was vice ever so public, so osten- 
 tatiously forced upon the eyes of men, so completely 
 formed into an established and essential portion of 
 fashionable and courtly life. 
 
 It was a matter of course that the king of France 
 should have a mistress ! She was as much a part of 
 the royal establishment as a prime minister was of the 
 royal councils, and not unfrequently,if not always, her 
 power was greater and more arbitrarily exercised than 
 that of this high officer. And, as if for the purpose 
 of offering a still more contemptuous defiance to the 
 common decencies of life, it often happened that the 
 mistress was a married woman! 
 
 Yet in that country the whole ritual of Popery was 
 performed with scrupulous exactness. A numerous 
 and powerful priesthood filled France ; and the cere- 
 monials of the national religion were performed con- 
 tinually before the court, with the most rigid formality. 
 
 The king had his confessor, and the mistress inva- 
 riably had hers. The nobles attended the royal chapel, 
 and had their confessors. The confessional was never 
 without royal and noble solicitors of monthly, or, at 
 the furthest, quarterly absolution. Still, from the 
 whole body of ecclesiastics, France heard few remon- 
 strance against these public abominations. Their ser- 
 
TICKS OF THE NOBILITY. 17 
 
 moils, few and feeble, sometimes declaimed on the 
 vices of the beggars of Paris, or the riots among the 
 peasantry ; but no sense of scriptural responsibility, 
 and no natural feeling of duty, often ventured to depre- 
 cate the vices of the nobles or the shameless and revolt- 
 ing debauchery of the throne. 
 
 Around the king was clustered a crowd of venal no- 
 bles, who contended for his favors with adulation, and 
 breathed only in the sunshine of his smiles. "Wholly 
 destitute of independence of spirit, these nobles were 
 licentious and arrogant, battening without shame on 
 the. spoils of the people, and priding themselves on 
 the lineages they disgraced. 
 
 The Palais Royal was for a long time the seat of the 
 revolting impurities of the most impure court in Eu- 
 rope. Built by a prelate on whose head rested the in- 
 nocent blood of the Huguenots, and probably built out 
 of their spoils, it was destined, in the possession of 
 Philip Egalit6, (father of Louis Philippe.) to make a 
 further progress in the corruption of the public morals. 
 He divided his palace into tenements, and hired them 
 out to every pursuit of every purchaser, however vile. 
 From this assemblage of gaming houses, and nests of 
 the most daring and the most forbidden violations of 
 law, human and divine, was poured forth, in its time 
 of ripeness, the misery of France. The government, 
 which had criminally endured such a center of abomi- 
 nation in its capital, and had even suffered a scanda- 
 lous revenue to be raised -out of its pollutions, was 
 the first to feel the evil. The Palais Eoyal suddenly 
 combined with its character as the chosen place of the 
 low luxuries of Parisian life, the new character of the 
 
18 BETBOSPECT. 
 
 head-quarters of revolution. There were to be found 
 the haranguers against the state ; there were the con- 
 federacies which marched to the overthrow of the 
 throne. If the government of Louis XVI. had been 
 awake to the primary obligation on all governments of 
 guarding the national morals, this glaring scandal 
 would not have been suffered an hour — the gates of the 
 Palais Koyal would have been closed on the whole 
 race of its professors of abomination. 
 
 The clergy, too, shared in the general corruption. 
 Their wealth was enormous ; their luxury excessive 
 and ostentatious ; and all pretensions to superior sanc- 
 tity or correctness of manners had long since been 
 abandoned. Indeed, many of the highest rank among 
 them were pre-eminent for their licentiousness. Gener- 
 ally speaking, it might be said, that, for a long time, 
 the higher orders of the clergy had ceased to take a 
 vital concern in their profession, or to exercise its func- 
 tions in a manner which interested the feelings and 
 affections of men. 
 
 The Catholic church had grown old, and unfortu- 
 nately did not possess the means of renovating her 
 doctrines, or improving her constitution, so as to keep 
 pace with the enlargement of the human understanding. 
 The lofty claims to infallibility which she had set up 
 and maintained during the middle ages — claims which 
 she could neither renounce nor modify, now threatened, 
 in more enlightened times, like battlements too heavy 
 for the foundation, to be the means of ruining the edi- 
 fice they were designed to defend. To retrace no 
 footsteps — to abandon no dogma, continued to be the 
 mottoes of the church of Eome. She could explain 
 
THE CHTJECH OF EOMK. 19 
 
 iothing, soften nothing, renounce nothing, consistently 
 with her assertion of infallibility. 
 
 The 'whole trash which had been accumulated for 
 ages of darkness and ignorance, whether consisting of 
 extravagant pretensions, incredible assertions, absurd 
 doctrines which confounded the understanding, or pu- 
 erile ceremonies which revolted the taste, was alike 
 incapable of being explained away or abandoned. It 
 would certainly have been (humanly speaking) advan- 
 tageous, alike for the church of Rome and for Chris- 
 tianity in general, that the former had possessed the 
 means of relinquishing her extravagant claims, modi- 
 fying her more obnoxious doctrines, and retrenching 
 'her superstitious ceremonials, as increasing knowledges 
 showed the injustice of the one, and the absurdity of 
 the other. 
 
 But this power she dared not assume ; and hence, 
 perhaps, the great schism which divides the Christian 
 world, which might otherwise never have existed, or at 
 least not in its present extended and imbittered state. 
 But, in all events, the church of Eome, retaining the 
 spiritual empire over so large and fair a portion of the 
 Christian world, would not have been reduced to the 
 alternative of either defending propositions, which, in 
 the eyes of all enlightened men, are altogether unten- 
 able, or of beholding the most essential and vital doc- 
 trines of Christianity confounded with them, and the 
 whole system exposed to the scorn of the infidel. The 
 more enlightened and better informed part of the 
 French nation had fallen very generally into the lattei 
 extreme. 
 
 Infidelity, in attacking the absurd claims and 
 
20 EETBOSPECT. 
 
 extravagant doctrines of the church of Rome, had art 
 fully availed herself of those abuses, as if they had been 
 really a part of the Christian religion ; and they whose 
 credulity could not digest the grossest articles of the 
 papist creed, thought themselves entitled to conclude, 
 in general, against religion itself, from the abuses in- 
 grafted upon it by ignorance and priestcraft. The same 
 circumstances which favored the assault, tended to 
 weaken the defense. 
 
 Embarrassed by the necessity of defending the mass 
 of human inventions with which their church had ob- 
 scured and deformed Christianity, the Catholic clergy 
 were not the best advocates even in the best of causes ; 
 and though there were many brilliant exceptions, yet 
 it must be owned that a great part of the higher orders 
 of the priesthood gave themselves little trouble about 
 maintaining the doctrines, or extending the influence 
 of the church, considering it only in the light of an 
 asylum, where, under the condition of certain renunci- 
 ations, they enjoyed, in indolent toanquillity, a state of 
 ease and luxury. 
 
 Those who thought on the subject more deeply, were 
 contented quietly to repose the safety of the church 
 upon the restrictions on the press, which prevented the 
 possibility of free discussion. The usual effect fol- 
 lowed ; and many who, if manly and open debate 
 upon theological subjects had been allowed, would 
 doubtless have been enabled to winnow the wheat 
 from the chaff, were, in the state of darkness to which 
 they were reduced, led to reject Christianity itself, 
 along with the corruptions of the Romish church, 
 and to become absolute infidels instead of reformed 
 Christians. 
 
CONDITION Off THE PEOPLE. 21 
 
 The number of the clergy, who were thus indifter- 
 eat to doctrine or duty, was largely increased, since 
 promotion to the great benefices had ceased to be dis- 
 tributed with regard to the morals, piety, talents, and 
 erudition of the candidates, but was bestowed among 
 the younger branches of the nobility, upon men who 
 were at little pains to reconcile the looseness of their 
 former habits and opinions with the sanctity of their 
 new profession, and who, embracing the church solely 
 as a means of maintenance, were little calculated by 
 their lives or learning to extend its consideration. 
 
 Beneath all, there was the bulk of the population, 
 urban and rural, who may be said to have literally pos- 
 sessed no rights, except, that of paying taxes. All the 
 burdens of the state fell on the industrious and product- 
 ive classes. The nobility and clergy were exempt from 
 taxation. The most oppressive mode of collecting 
 prevailed. Two-thirds of the whole land of the coun 
 try was in the possession of the nobility and clergy, 
 who, not content with* their fiscal exemption, imposed 
 upon the cultivators feudal dues and services of the 
 most onerous and harassing description. 
 
 The right of killing game was reserved to the land- 
 lords ; and tenants were even forbidden, by special 
 edicts, to till their ground, or reap their crops, if the 
 preservation of young broods might be thereby endan- 
 gered. Game of the most destructive kind, such as 
 wild boars and herds of deer, was permitted to go at 
 large through extensive districts, without any inclosures 
 to protect the crops. Numerous edicts existed which 
 prohibited hoeing and weeding, lest the young par- 
 tridges should be disturbed ; taking away the stubble. 
 
22 RETROSPECT, 
 
 lest the birds should be deprived of shelter ; mowing 
 hay, lest their eggs should be destroyed ; manuring 
 with night-soil, lest their flavor should be injured. 
 Manorial courts were scattered through the land, to 
 take summary vengeance on delinquents in any of 
 these particulars. In fact, the rural population was, to 
 a certain extent, in a state of serfdom, continually ex 
 posed to galling and degrading tyranny, which the 
 inhabitants of towns escaped only to undergo humilia- 
 tions and vexations of an analogous nature. 
 
 It was impossible that agriculture could flourish un- 
 der such untoward circumstances. Instead of being 
 protected and encouraged in his indispensable calling, 
 the husbandman was regarded as a species of drudge, 
 appointed by nature to toil for the benefit of superiors. 
 The king, the nobility, and the clergy, all considered 
 him in this light, and contended which should wring 
 from him the most in the various shapes of taxes, rents, 
 dues, and tithes. Thus cultivation was in the rudest 
 state, and the naturally fertile soil yielded but a frac- 
 tion of the produce it might have been stimulated to 
 rear. Travelers who visited France at this epoch, 
 concur in representing abject poverty and wretchedness 
 as the universal lot of the peasantry. 
 
 ISTor was it otherwise with commerce. Industry 
 was fettered by a thousand shackles. Eulers have, in 
 every age and country, with strange perversity, marked 
 trade and its followers for their legitimate prey, and, 
 in the alternate guise of exaction and restriction, la- 
 bored to cramp its development. The right to carry 
 on business, to exercise a profession, was a matter of 
 purchase. Not only were there chartered guilds to 
 
MALADMINISTEATION OF- JUSTICE. 23; 
 
 enter through a long novitiate and a heavy, outlay, but 
 the king also was to be bought. Licenses might be 
 obtained from him to monopolize certain callings - 
 within a particular circuit, such as those of barber, 
 wood-vender, sausage-maker, &c. When the royal 
 treasury needed a sudden replenishment, multitudes of 
 these licenses used to be issued, which were bought up 
 in the first instance by capitalists, and subsequently 
 resold by them through the country at a considerable 
 advance. A regular traffic was at times maintained 
 in this singular species of paper-money, prices being ■ 
 ruled naturally by the prospect, more or less promis- 
 ing, of plundering the community. 
 
 The corruption and uncertainty prevailing in the 
 administration of justice likewise tended to thwart the 
 operations of commerce. Judicial offices were subjects 
 of bargain and sale in every part of the kingdom, dis- 
 posed of to the highest bidders, wholly irrespective of 
 competency. Hence bribery flowed as a necessary 
 consequence, and the courts of law degenerated into 
 mere marts, where justice was openly bartered for gold. 
 Thus privilege was the grand characteristic of France 
 at this period, ranging through all the ramifications of 
 her disjointed society. First, the high nobility, with 
 sinecures and pensions often hereditary, crouched in 
 sycophancy around the court, and regarded all others 
 as made to minister to their gratifications. Next, the 
 inferior nobility or gentry, who alone were eligible to 
 be officers in the army and navy, and to fill sundry 
 important offices ; both exempt from taxation. 
 
 Thus the French labored under a despotism to which 
 the horrors of Hindoo servitude were comparative 
 
24 BETBOSPECT. 
 
 freedom. Without trial by jury, without means of 
 justice, subjected to the most atrocious oppressions, in 
 person and property, by the grand seigneurs, the posi- 
 tion of a French subject was far less enviable than that 
 of an Egyptian fellah of the present day. The life of 
 a peasant was less valued than that of a wild boar, 
 and long centuries of tyranny had left him but little 
 else of humanity than its form. 
 
 A volume would scarcely suffice to define all the op- 
 pressions to which the French subject was exposed ; 
 and how great soever were his wrongs, the semblance 
 of justice was to be had only through the influence of 
 the beauty of a female relation, or bribes in money, 
 that were openly and shamelessly administered. The 
 Bastile was crowded with the victims of private ani- 
 mosity, consigned to loathsome dungeons without the 
 pretense of crime, by arbitrary arrests obtained from 
 a corrupt executive through favor or money. These 
 victims numbered 15,000, in the reign of Louis XV. 
 Safety for persons and property there was none ; and 
 the social relations of the lower classes were exposed to 
 the debaucheries of the seigneurs; among the long 
 catalogue of whose infamous " rights," the " baiser de 
 mariees" and the " silence de grenouiUes" were at 
 once the most odious and the most ridiculous. The 
 nature of the latter, was a requirement on the peasants 
 to beat constantly the waters of the marshy districts, 
 in order to keep silent the frogs, lest their croakings 
 should disturb the lady of the seigneur during her con- 
 finement. This duty might be commuted for a sum of 
 money, or the delinquent caught, and hung up without 
 ceremony at the door of the grand seigneur. 
 
ANABCHY. 25 
 
 Debauchery and blasphemy, selfishness and disre- 
 gard of right, in high places, had done their worst. 
 Nothing short of miraculous interposition could have 
 saved France from the legitimate consequences of its 
 own unparalleled infamy. A rapid stride in political 
 knowledge had been made in the briefest possible space 
 of time, but the alphabet of morals and the social vir- 
 tues, had yet to be acquired. 
 
 A revolution prompted by principles thoroughly en- 
 lightened, fostered by motives thoroughly pure, and 
 commenced by means thoroughly pacific and constitu- 
 tional, had, unfortunately, been attempted by a nation 
 which, if we regard it in the mass, must be pronounced 
 to have been utterly unworthy of the blessings to 
 which the contemplated changes were in themselves 
 likely to lead. 
 
 Justified in revolt by the oppressions and crimes of 
 their rulers, but undeserving of freedom by reason of 
 their own vices, the French nation knew not how to 
 use the gift when it was put into their hands. The 
 first steps of their emancipation plunged them into an- 
 archy, irreligion, and massacre. They dishonored that 
 sacred name of Liberty which they had proudly writ- 
 ten upon their banner : and they were punished — more 
 for the sins of their governors than for their own — by 
 having to pass again under the yoke, and to learn 
 some of the duties of freemen, from a despot whom 
 they themselves had been obliged to place on the 
 throne of the Capets. 
 
 No great revolution can be accomplished without 
 excesses and miseries at which humanity revolts. This 
 is eminently true of the French revolution. It was a 
 
26 EETEOSPECT. 
 
 destruction of great abuses, executed with much inhu 
 manity, violence and injustice. 
 
 But notwithstanding the crimes of the revolution and 
 the sufferings it caused, it effected a beneficial change. 
 A revolution, at its best, is a painful and perilous rem- 
 edy ; at its worst, it is the severest trial which a natioa 
 can undergo. But such trials seldom occur, except in 
 cases where hopeless slavery and irreparable decay are 
 the only alternatives. There is no doubt that the 
 French Revolution was an instance of the worst kind ; 
 perhaps it was the very worst that ever occurred. Not 
 only did the popular movement result in atrocities, but 
 the exhaustion which followed led to the usurpation of 
 Napoleon and the wars of the empire. 
 
 Three millions and a half of Frenchmen,* and a 
 prodigious number of foreigners, perished, who, but for 
 the Revolution and its consequences, might have ended 
 their days in peace. Human ingenuity, in short, can 
 scarcely imagine means by which a greater amount of 
 violence and bloodshed could have been crowded into 
 a quarter of a century. Still, an escape from this fiery 
 trial would have been dearly purchased by the contin- 
 uance of the ancient institutions for another century. 
 The evils of violence and bloodshed, dreadful as they 
 are, cannot be compared to those of oppressive insti- 
 tutions. Yiolence and bloodshed are necessarily par- 
 tial, but oppressive institutions are universal. It is 
 
 * Mr. Alison, in his history, enumerates the victims of the Revolution, 
 including those of the civil war in La Vendee, at 1,022,351 souls ; and 
 the soldiers who perished in the wars of the Empire, at 2,200,400. This 
 does not include those who fell at Waterloo, in the battles of the revolu- 
 flonary contest, and in the various naval acKons of the war. 
 
FEENOH PEASANTRY. 27 
 
 impossible to guillotine a whole nation ; it is impossible 
 to enroll a whole nation as conscripts ; but it is easy to 
 make a whole nation miserable by disabilities and exac- 
 tions. Even under the Eeign of Terror, each individual 
 citizen must have felt that there were many hundred 
 chances to one in favor of his escape from denuncia- 
 tion ; but no peasant had a hope of escaping the 
 tyranny of the feudal customs. 
 
 Violence and bloodshed are in their nature transi- 
 tory ; but oppressive institutions may be perpetual. 
 Crimes which spring from passion soon exhaust them- 
 selves ; but crimes which spring from habit may 
 continue for ever. The Reign of Terror was over in 
 fourteen months ; but the ancient regime might have 
 subsisted until its effects had reduced France to the de- 
 crepitude of China or Constantinople. Violence and 
 bloodshed produce merely suffering ; but oppressive 
 institutions produce degradation also. A French peas- 
 ant might retain the pride and spirit of a free man,, 
 though he knew that the next day he might be dragged 
 before a revolutionary tribunal, or hurried to join the 
 army in Spain or Russia. But a French peasant who 
 had been placed in the stocks for want of due servility 
 to a noble, who had seen his son sent to the galleys for 
 destroying a partridge's eggs, who knew that the honor 
 of his family had been outraged by some licentious 
 courtier — such a man could not but feel himself a de- 
 based and unhappy slave. The sufferings of the Revo- 
 lution, in short, were to the sufferings of the Bourbon 
 monarchy, as the plague in London to the malaria of a 
 tropical climate. The one was a temporary, though 
 overwhelming blow, the other a wasting pestilence — 
 
28 BETBOSPECT. 
 
 the perpetual source of terror and misery to eveiy 
 successive generation existing within its influence. 
 
 The whole of the privileged classes of France actu- 
 ally vied with the populace in running the career of 
 general subserviency. The National Assembly was 
 totally irreligious. It was a great conclave of infidels 
 All professing popery, all alienated by their habits from 
 the religion of the Scriptures, all scoffing at that reli- 
 gion which they had been forbid to investigate, and all 
 hating the superstition which had been substituted in 
 its roonv — the higher orders of France, the gentry, and 
 the whole body of literature were godless. Is it to be 
 wondered at, that their private profligacy passed into 
 their public existence ? — that the heartlessness, vanity, 
 selfishness, and love of pleasure, which already made 
 society in France an abomination in the sight of earth 
 and heaven, should have only flamed out in the broad 
 and violent fires of the Revolution? 
 
 But with every allowance for the operation of these 
 unfortunate conditions, much, no doubt, must be at- 
 tributed to the singular features of the French charac- 
 ter : to that fickle and hasty temperament, that warlike 
 spirit and inordinate passion for military glory, and 
 that deplorable want of moral principle which have 
 too much distinguished it, but which were never so 
 marked or attended with such fatal consequences as 
 during the revolutionary struggle. There is much that 
 is amiable, and much that is admirable, in the French 
 character ; for general cleverness, active enterprise, 
 daring heroism, and patience under the hardships and 
 privations of war, they are, perhaps, unrivaled ; but 
 the quiet enthusiasm which pursues its object, steadily 
 
KAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 29 
 
 and silently, through neglect and through reproach — 
 the courage to withstand popular clamor — the firm- 
 ness to resist the contagion of popular emotion — the 
 fortitude to suffer in obscurity and in secret — the de- 
 votion to adhere unflinchingly to an obnoxious prin- 
 ciple or to a sinking cause — these, unhappily, have at 
 no time been prominent in the Gallic character. 
 
 The vices and cruelties of the several governments 
 which successively seized the direction of affairs, after 
 the memorable events of 1789, and the consequent dis- 
 appointment, disgust, and exhaustion of the people, 
 paved an easy way for the daring usurpation of Na- 
 poleon Bonaparte ; and amid the comparative repose 
 which ensued under his iron despotism, the nation, 
 wearied of its fruitless struggle after freedom, sunk 
 quietly to sleep. 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 There can be no stronger illustration of the genius 
 and influence of Bonaparte than the simple fact, that 
 for twenty years his life and the history of Europe are 
 convertible terms. During the whole of that time, the 
 annals of the smallest European state would be abso- 
 lutely unintelligible without a clear view of the policy 
 and character of the French Emperor ; and, on the 
 other hand, every change of rulers in the pettiest prin- 
 cipality — every intrigue at Petersburg or Naples — 
 
30 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 every motion in the British Parliament— was of im- 
 mediate and vital concern to Napoleon. This is more 
 than can be. said of any other conqueror or statesman 
 in modern times. The direct influence of Louis, Fred- 
 erick, and Catherine, was comparatively limited. A 
 Russian or a Turk cared little for the invasion of Hol- 
 land or the Spanish succession ; and an Italian was 
 comparatively indifferent to the conquest of Silesia or 
 the division of Poland. But no such supineness pre- 
 vailed during the wars of the French empire. Wher- 
 ever the great conqueror was engaged, the breathless 
 attention of all Europe was fixed. Every citizen of 
 every state felt his hopes or his fortunes raised or de 
 pressed by the event. The death of an English minis 
 ter was hastened by the battle of Marengo ; the treaty 
 of Tilsit was felt as an object of interest in the deserts 
 of central Asia ; the battle of Leipsic roused or para- 
 lyzed every European from Cadiz to the North Cape. 
 The French empire, in a word, resembled the talis 
 manic globe of the sorcerers in Southey's poem of 
 " Thalaba," the slightest touch upon which caused the 
 whole universe to tremble. 
 
 In the year 1785 there died at Montpelier, in the 
 prime of life, a Corsican lawyer, named Charles Bona- 
 parte. His place of residence was the town of Ajaccio, 
 in his native island. As is usual in southern climates, 
 he married at the early age of nineteen, having won 
 for his wife, from numerous competitors, the reigning 
 beauty of the world of Corsica, the young Letitia Ea- 
 molino, who was remarkable, not onl/for her personal 
 charms, but also for the courage and fortitude of her 
 character. He left her a widow, still young and 
 
BONAPARTE FAMILY. 31 
 
 beautiful, with eight children, of whom the eldest was 
 but seventeen 'years, and the youngest only three 
 months. Six others had died in infancy. Left in 
 somewhat straitened circumstances, the chief reliance 
 of the family was in a rich old uncle, an ecclesiastic in 
 the Corsican church. Two of the children, indeed, had 
 already, in a manner, been provided for. The eldest, 
 a son, had begun the study of the law. The second, a 
 youth of sixteen, had completed his education at the 
 military academies of Brienne and Paris, and had just 
 received, or was on the point of receiving, a sub-lieu- 
 tenancy of artillery in the French king's army. It was 
 on this young soldier, rather than on his elder brother, 
 that the hopes of the family were fixed. Even the 
 poor father's ravings on his death-bed, it is said, were 
 all about his absent boy, Napoleon, and a "great 
 sword " that he was to bequeath to him. 
 
 Sixty-seven years have elapsed since then — two 
 generations and part of a third — .- and what changes 
 have they not seen in the fortunes of the Corsican 
 family ! In the first, issuing from their native island, 
 like some band of old Heracleidse, and pushing, with 
 their military brother at their head, into the midst of 
 a revolution that was then convulsing Europe, these 
 half-Italian orphans, whose dialect no one could recog- 
 nize, cut their way to the center of the tumult, seize the 
 administration, and are distributed as kings and princes 
 among the western nations. In the second, shattered 
 and thrown down as by a stroke of Apocalyptic ven- 
 geance, they are dispersed as wanderers over the civ- 
 ilized world, to increase their numbers, and form 
 connections everywhere. And now, again, at the 
 
32 NAPOLEON BONAPAETEi 
 
 beginning of a third, there seems to be a gathering of 
 them toward the old center, as if for a new function in 
 regard to the future. Let us glance for a little at these 
 successive chapters of a most extraordinary family- 
 history, not yet ended. 
 
 The outbreak of the Revolution in 1789 found the 
 Bonapartes all living together at Ajaccio — the eldest, 
 Joseph, in his twenty-third year, a lawyer entering into 
 practice ; the second, ISTapoleon, now twenty-one years 
 of age, a lieutenant of artillery on leave of absence ; 
 the third, Lucien, a hot-headed young man, five years 
 younger than Napoleon, and fresh from the college of 
 Autun ; the fourth, a daughter, Eliza, then in her fif- 
 teenth year ; next to her, Louis, a boy of twelve or 
 thirteen ; and lastly, the three youngest, still mere in- 
 fants, Pauline, Caroline, and Jerome. In the same 
 house with the Bonapartes, and about three years older 
 than Joseph, lived the Abb6 Fesch, a half-brother of 
 Madame Bonaparte. All the family, as indeed almost 
 all the Corsicans at that time, were admirers of the 
 Revolution ; but the most fervid revolutionist of all was 
 Lucien, who was the juvenile prodigy of the family, 
 and whose speeches, delivered at the meetings of a 
 popular society that had been established at Ajaccio, 
 were the delight of the town. Joseph, older and 
 steadier, took his part, too, in the general bustle ; while 
 the lieutenant amused his idleness by long walks about 
 the island, and by writing various essays and sketches, 
 among which is mentioned a History of the Revolution 
 of Corsica, a manuscript copy of which was forwarded 
 to Mirabeau. 
 
 Driven from Corsica, on account of their political 
 
THE WAIF ON THE FBENCH COAST. 8<| 
 
 opinions, the widow and her eight children were cast, 
 like a waif, upon the shores of France. Madame 
 Bonaparte, amidst a small band of faithful followers, 
 marched with her young children, under the shade of 
 darkness, and, before daylight, reached a secluded spot 
 on the sea-shore, whence, from an elevation, she could 
 see her house ia flames. Undaunted by the sad spec- 
 tacle, she exciaimed, " Never mind, we will build it up 
 again much better : Yive la France! " After a con- 
 cealment of two days and nights in the recesses of the 
 woods, the fugitives were at length gladdened by the 
 sight of a French frigate, on board of which were Jo- 
 seph and Napoleon. In this vessel the whole party at 
 once embarked, and as no hope remained of finding 
 security in Corsica, it was straightway steered for 
 France. Marseilles was its port of destination, and 
 there it accordingly landed the family of exiles, desti- 
 tute of every vestige of property, but unbroken, it 
 would seem, in courage and health. Madame Bona- 
 parte had occasion for the exercise of all her fortitude 
 in these trying, circumstances, for she was reduced to 
 almost extreme poverty, and was fain to receive with 
 thankfulness the rations of bread distributed by the 
 municipality to refugee patriots. Joseph speedily 
 received an appointment as a commissary of war ; and 
 he and Napoleon contributed to the support of the 
 family from their scanty allowances ; but during the 
 first years of their residence in France, these obscure 
 exiles, who even spoke the language of their adopted 
 country with difficulty, suffered all the inconveniences 
 of extreme penury. 
 Marseilles became the head-quarters of the Bona- 
 2* 
 
' 14 NAPOLEON BONAPAKTE. 
 
 parte family during the Eeign of Terror. Here, from 
 1793 to 1796, they were severally to be either seen or 
 heard of — Joseph, employed as a commissary of war, 
 living in the town, wooing, and at last (1794) marrying 
 a Mademoiselle Clary, the daughter of a wealthy mer- 
 chant ; Napoleon, occasionally at Marseilles, but usu- 
 ally absent in Paris, or elsewhere, already a general of 
 brigade, having been raised to that rank for his serv 
 ices at the siege of Toulon, yet grumbling at his pov 
 erty and inactivity, and thinking his brother Joseph 9 
 *' lucky rogue " in having made so good a match ; Lu- 
 cien, a young firebrand, known over the whole district 
 as "Brutus Bonaparte," and extremely popular as a 
 republican orator at Marseilles, where, in 1795, he 
 married the sister of an innkeeper ; and lastly, the 
 five younger members of the family living with their 
 mother. 
 
 The fall of Robespierre and his party (July, 1794) 
 was a temporary blow to the fortunes of the Bonapartes, 
 connected as they were with that side of the Revolu- 
 tion. General Bonaparte was arrested, and although 
 afterward liberated, was still suspected and degraded. 
 His release was purchased by the sacrifice of his rank 
 in the army, and he lost all the fruits of the brilliant 
 reputation he had won, and was thrown an outcast 
 upon the world, at the age of twenty-five, ignomini- 
 ously expelled from the profession in which he had 
 already begun to gather prospective laurels. 
 
 After his discharge from the army and from captiv- 
 ity, Napoleon had proceeded to Paris, with the view 
 of claiming from the new government, reparation of 
 the wrongs he had suffered. But all his applications 
 
HOPES OS" OKtENTAI, EMPIRE. 35 
 
 being fruitless, he found himself in a situation at once 
 most galling and deplorable ; since, to his impetuous 
 spirit, the want of employment at a time when active 
 service offered so many chances of distinction, must 
 have been intolerable, while his destitution was such 
 that he often lacked the means of procuring a dinner. 
 Yet his ardent imagination was even then filled with 
 reveries of the greatness he might achieve ; and it was 
 on an oriental field his thoughts wandered in brilliant 
 perspectives ; for he deemed Europe tame and sterile 
 in comparison with Asia, as a theater of glorious enter- 
 prise. He cherished the idea of leaving France, and 
 offering to the Turkish sultan the sword his country 
 was unworthy to possess ; but averse to go forth as a 
 mere adventurer, he submitted a proposition to the 
 government for beading a detachment of officers to 
 improve the discipline of the Ottoman forces, and pre- 
 pare them for a more equal encounter with the trained 
 soldiers of Russia. This proposition, however, was 
 not entertained ; and the impatient hero was compelled 
 to await a more propitious period to realize his scheme 
 of revolution and conquest in the East. To the very 
 end of his career his mind was full of the most roman- 
 tic visions of eastern grandeur; and his magnificent 
 and wild imagination presents a vivid contrast to the 
 vigorous grasp of his intellect, the coolness of his judg^ 
 ment, and the crystal clearness of his understanding. 
 The throne of Constantinople or Hindostan was one of 
 the dreams of his earliest youth ; and even in the midst 
 of his most splendid European conquests, gorgeous 
 visions of palms and pagodas were seldom long absent 
 from his fancy. This dream of oriental empire was 
 
36 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 the chief incentive to his subsequent Egyptian expe^ 
 dition. While gazing on the mount of Richard Cceur 
 de Lion, previous to his repulse at Acre, he said to 
 Bourrienne, " Yes, that miserable fort has, indeed, cost 
 me dear. But matters have gone too far for me not to 
 make a last effort. If I succeed, I shall find in that 
 town all the treasures of the pacha, and arms for 
 300,000 men. I shall raise and arm all Syria ; I shall 
 march on Damascus and Aleppo. Acre taken, I shall 
 secure Egypt. I shall arrive at Constantinople with 
 armed masses, overturn the empire of the Turks, and 
 establish a new one in the East, which will fix my 
 place with posterity. And perhaps I may return to 
 Paris by Adrianople and Vienna, after having annihi- 
 lated the house of Austria." This circuit of Asia and 
 Europe, through subverted thrones and fields of battle, 
 only to return to Paris at last, brings to the memory 
 the dialogue of Pyrrhus the Epirote, with the philoso- 
 pher, and might be fairly ridiculed by the philoso- 
 pher's remark — "Why not go there without taking all 
 this trouble? " But extravagant as was the conception, 
 and boundless as the bloodshed and misery which must 
 have purchased this circuitous path to Paris and re- 
 nown, it evidently clung to Napoleon. When all 
 things else had left him, twenty years after, on the 
 precipices of St. Helena, he still felt the blow that the 
 sword of England had given to his ambition in Syria, 
 " Acre once taken," said he, " the French army would 
 have flown to Aleppo and Damascus ; in the twinkling 
 of an eye it would have been on the Euphrates ; the 
 Christians of Syria, the Druses, the Christians of Ar- 
 menia, would have joined it ; the whole population of 
 
THOUGHTS OF SUICIDE. 37 
 
 the East would have been agitated." To the observa- 
 tion, that he would soon have had 100,000 men, he 
 replied, " Say rather 600,000. Who can calculate what 
 would have happened ? I should have reached Con- 
 stantinople and the Indies. I should have changed 
 the face of the world." 
 
 Big with these enthusiastic dreams of future power, 
 Bonaparte, poor, unemployed and unfriended, loitered 
 about the streets of Paris, scowling at the effeminate 
 dandies who pranced in the promenades on capar- 
 isoned horses, and lisped the praises of singers and 
 dancers at the opera — for the metropolis of terror had 
 been suddenly changed to one of exaggerated gayety, — 
 frequenting coffee-houses, theaters, gambling-houses, 
 and other places of amusement ; strolling in deserted 
 avenues, in the stillness of evenings, to indulge in pen- 
 sive meditations, or to beguile the weary time ; lead- 
 ing, in short, a life of pure vagabondism, which has its 
 joys in the days of youth, when the spirits are buoy- 
 ant and hope is elastic, but which is replete with mo- 
 ments of remorse and anguish. In such paroxysms 
 of the conscience, despair is prone to seize upon the 
 mind, and inspire its victims with lamentable im- 
 pulses. So Napoleon fell under the dire temptation, 
 and one night started along the quays to throw him- 
 self from one of the bridges over the Seine. On his 
 way he encountered an old friend, whom he had not 
 seen since they were comrades of the camp, and to 
 whom he related the sad story of his distresses, which 
 affected not him only, but objects dearer to him than 
 himself. The friend was moved by the mournful tale,_ 
 and presented to the intending suicide a bag of gold, 
 
38 NAPOLEON BONAPABTE. 
 
 whose magic touch at once dispelled the gloomy 
 humors which had impelled him to his fearful purpose. 
 
 Thus rescued from an inglorious death, the teeming 
 era of revolutions at length summoned into conspicuous 
 action the desolate and wo-worn Napoleon — an insur- 
 rection occurring in Paris, he was fortunate enough to 
 be chosen among the officers appointed to suppress it. 
 He at once assumed the direction of affairs. Instantly 
 he opened upon the insurgents a terrific discharge of 
 grape-shot, which staggered, overthrew, and routed 
 them. The battle was neither long nor obstinate ; the 
 insurgents could make no head against the tempest of 
 balls vomited against them by their pitiless and scien- 
 tific enemy. The conqueror in the broil was hailed 
 with acclamations by the grateful Assembly, and in 
 reward of his, services he was nominated to be General 
 of the Army of the Interior. By this achievement he 
 saved the Revolution, for had the insurgents bees 
 triumphant, the restoration of the Bourbons would 
 have been the almost inevitable result. Henceforth he 
 became of paramount importance in the convulsed 
 community: the reduction of Toulon *had first fixed 
 upon him the attention which was requisite to encour- 
 age confidence in his superiority ; the repulse of the 
 insurgents in October, 1795, showed him resolute and 
 indomitable in conflict, and stamped upon him the 
 seal of predominance, although cemented in the gore 
 of fellow-countrymen and citizens. 
 
 It is thus that opportunity only is wanting to men 
 of real genius and capacity, to make manifest; the 
 qualities within them, and assure them of a commanding 
 •position among their fellow men. This Napoleon had 
 
JOSEPHINE. 39 
 
 gained, and straightway the path of fortune was wide 
 and smooth before him. Happy accidents almost 
 poured upon him, and none was more singularly au- 
 spicious than that which introduced him to a wife. 
 One day he was applied to by a boy not more than 
 ten years of age, for the restoration of his father's 
 sword, which had been seized in the general search, 
 although its owner was long since dead. The ingenu- 
 ous earnestness of the youth pleaded in his favor, 
 and Napoleon restored him the sword ; but he was 
 induced to ask the circumstances of the family to 
 which he belonged. His father, Alexander de Beau- 
 harnais, had commanded one of the armies of the 
 republic, but had lost his head in the Reign of Ter- 
 ror ; his mother, Josephine, still survived, having nar- 
 rowly escaped the same fate by the fortunate overthrow 
 of Robespierre within a few hours of her intended 
 execution. She was a native of Martinique, and was 
 enveloped in a strange interest, from the remarkable 
 prophecies that had been made concerning her. In 
 one of these, delivered by an old negress, she herself 
 put faith, with the superstition natural to her clime ; 
 and so far, in truth, the prediction had been verified. 
 It was said that she should witness the death of her 
 first husband, be plunged into the deepest misery, but 
 ultimately be raised above the estate of a queen. But 
 whatever might be the fabled destinies in store for her, 
 it was upon more rational expectations that Napoleon 
 sought and won her hand. She was recommended to 
 him by the inimitable graces of her person and man- 
 ners, which were fascinating in a superlative degree, 
 and probably also by considerations of a somewhat 
 
40 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 grosser nature. Society was very dissolute at this 
 period ; she had heretofore enjoyed an intimacy with 
 Barras, which gave her great influence over him ; and 
 this personage now possessed almost supreme power. 
 Hence, his favor was of material consequence, espe- 
 cially in the distribution of military commands ; and 
 as Napoleon aspired to the very highest and most im- 
 portant in the service of the republic, it was politic in 
 him to strengthen his pretensions by an alliance forti- 
 fied with the most cogent and persuasive ties. 
 
 At Josephine's house Bonaparte was wont to meet 
 a small, but valuable circle, composed of those who, 
 while they favored his suit, were able likewise to pro- 
 mote his interests, as soon as these should become 
 united with the fortunes of her whom he loved. On 
 her part Josephine was distinctly promised by Barras, 
 that if she would accede to the arrangement, Bonaparte 
 should be appointed to the command of the army in 
 Italy. In a letter to a friend, explaining her motives 
 for marrying Bonaparte, she mentions this circum- 
 stance, and says : " Yesterday, Bonaparte, speaking of 
 this favor, which already excites murmuring among his 
 fellow-soldiers, though it be as yet only a promise, said 
 to me, ' Think they then I have need of their protec- * 
 tion to arrive at power ? Egregious mistake ! They 
 will all be but too happy one day should I condescend 
 to grant them mine. My sword is by my side, and 
 with it I will go far ! ' "What say you to this security 
 of success ? Is it not a proof of confidence springing 
 from an excess of vanity? A general of brigade pro- 
 tect the head of government ! that, truly, is an eve.it 
 highly probable ! I know not how it is, but sometimes 
 
MABEIAGE OF BONAPARTE. 41 
 
 this waywardness gains upon me to such a degree, 
 that almost I believe possible whatever this singular 
 man may take into his head to attempt ; and with 
 his imagination, who can calculate what he will not 
 undertake ? " 
 
 Truly might Josephine, in bitterness of soul, accuse 
 Bonaparte of being an ingrate, who afterward sacri- 
 ficed her by whom he had risen. She probably did 
 not marry Bonaparte from attachment : a desire to 
 provide a protector for her daughter, a guide for her 
 son, were her own motives ; the representations of her 
 friends accomplished the rest. Time, and experience 
 of those fascinations which she herself described as 
 unequaled, ripened the grateful feelings of a mother's 
 heart into a love and admiration which, for uncom- 
 plaining self-devotedness, in the most painful of all 
 sacrifices, stands pre-eminent in the sad story of 
 unrequited affection. 
 
 Where passion prompted and ambition urged, Bona- 
 parte was not the man to fail. His nuptials with Jose- 
 phine were solemnized, according to the revolutionary 
 forms, by the appearance of the contracting parties 
 before the civil magistrate, March 9, 1796. Josephine 
 was then thirty-three years of age, and Napoleon 
 twenty-seven — she having been born June 23, 1T63, 
 and he August 15, 1769. On the registry of the 
 marriage, however, Josephine's birth is placed in 1767. 
 The four years thus deducted from her real age must 
 be assigned either to mistake, or, not improbably, to 
 voluntary forgetfulness. The births of the children of 
 her first marriage, are decisive on this point — Eugene 
 having been born September 3, 1780, and Hortense 
 
42 NAPOLEON BONAPABTB. 
 
 April 10, 1783 ; but so little attention was paid to 
 consistency, that according to the registry of her mar- 
 riage with Bonaparte, she must have been a mother at 
 a little more than the age of ten years. It is deserv- 
 ing of notice also, as something like a mutual abnega- 
 tion of curious inquiry on this head, that in the same 
 instrument a year is added to Napoleon's age. 
 
 From her earliest years, Josephine appears to have 
 displayed those excellencies of character, and that ele- 
 gance of demeanor, which, amid some frivolities, 
 render her so amiable in every change of her check' 
 ered life, and enabled her, in gentleness, yet not with- 
 out dignity, to maintain an influence over a spirit so 
 differently constituted from her own. From a child, 
 opening beauty and sprightliness, united with perfect 
 good nature, rendered her the delight of her own cir- 
 cle. She played on the harp and sang with exquisite 
 feeling. Her dancing is said to have been perfect. 
 An eye-witness describes her light form, rising scarcely 
 above the middle size, as seeming in its faultless sym- 
 metry, to float rather than to move — the very person- 
 ation of grace. She exercised her pencil and her 
 needle and embroidering frame with beautiful ad- 
 dress. "A love of flowers," that truly feminine aspi- 
 ration, and, according to a master in elegance and 
 virtue, infallible index of purity of heart, waB with her 
 no uninstructed admiration. She had early cultivated 
 a knowledge of botany, a study of all others especially 
 adapted to the female mind, which exercises without 
 fatiguing the understanding, and leads the thoughts to 
 hold converse with heaven through the sweetest objects 
 of earth. To the Empress Josephine, France and 
 
CHARACTEB OF JOSEPHINE. 43 
 
 Europe are indebted for one of the most beautiful of 
 vegetable productions — the camelia. In all to which 
 the empire of woman's taste rightly extends, hers was 
 exquisitely just, and simple as it was refined. Her 
 sense of the becoming and the proper in all things, 
 and under every variety of circumstances, appeared 
 native and intuitive. She read delightfully ; and na- 
 ture had been here peculiarly propitious : for so har- 
 monious were the tones of her voice, even in the most 
 ordinary conversation, that instances are common of 
 those who, coming unexpectedly and unseen within 
 their influence, have remained as if suddenly fasci- 
 nated and 6pell-bound, till the sounds ceased, or fear 
 of discovery forced the listener away. Like the harp 
 of David on the troubled breast of Israel's king, thiB 
 charm is known to have wrought powerfully upon 
 Napoleon. His own admission was, "The first ap- 
 plause of the French people sounded to my ear sweet 
 as the voice of Josephine." 
 
 Barras fully redeemed the pledge to Josephine, and 
 only twelve days after his union with her, Bonaparte 
 set out for Italy as the commander-in-chief of the r&. 
 publican army in that country. He was animated 
 with a fervor and self-confidence which set at naught 
 all impediments ; and he said joyously to his friends, 
 as he started, " In three months you will see me again 
 at Paris, or will hear of me at Milan." 
 
 It was in no idle spirit that he spokje these words ; 
 for on the desperate hazard he was prepared to stake 
 the future of his life, whether it should be disgrace in 
 failure, or empire in success. Two armies were op- 
 posed to him — one of Piedmontese, 20,000 strong, 
 
H NAPOLEON BONAPABTE. 
 
 and the other of Austrians, 35,000 strong, between 
 which he poured with his emaciated complement of 
 30,000. Already, nnder the revolutionary impulse, 
 the tactics of war had been materially changed from 
 the old established routine. But such changes were 
 trifling in comparison with those introduced by Napo- 
 leon Bonaparte, who struck by blows so sure and rapid, 
 that his enemy was overpowered before he well knew 
 that operations had commenced; and campaigns which, 
 under the old system of even Marlborough' and Frede- 
 rick, would have lingered for years, were decided in a 
 few weeks, sometimes in a few days. Thus he hurled 
 the Piedmontese and Austrians before him, on separate 
 routes of retreat, with a precipitation which annihilated 
 resistance: in less than two months he had fought six 
 battles, reduced Sardinia to sue for peace, entered 
 Milan in triumph, and expelled the Austrians from 
 Lombardy, driving them across the Adige, and into 
 the fastnesses of the Tyrol. Such a series of exploits, 
 accomplished in so short a time, wrought a boundless 
 amazement, and the hero of them was extolled as a 
 prodigy superior to all warriors of ancient or modern 
 fame. It was the rapidity of his achievements, rather 
 even than their results which dazzled the imagination, 
 and marked the advent of a new master in the great 
 art of war. No conqueror had ever displayed such 
 originality of genius, such boldness of conception, such 
 profundity of combination, such celerity of execution; 
 and the sudden interest which surrounded him was in- 
 creased by thenovej grandeur of the language in which 
 he spoke to his soldiers, and the imperious tone he 
 assumed to the potentates who held fair Italy in 
 
bonapakte's EAELT VICTOKIES. 4:5 
 
 6ervitude. At the bare aspect of his sword, priestly 
 and royal dominations crouched before him; and the 
 proud oligarchy of Venice sent humble intercessions to 
 propitiate his wrath. Yet his possession of Lombardy 
 was very insecure, for the house of Austria was 
 making prodigious exertions to wrest it from him, and 
 to recover that stolen jewel of its usurping crown. 
 Four successive armies of 60,000 men each were pushed 
 down the gorges of the Tyrol and across the Brenta, 
 under veteran leaders of exalted reputation, to dislodge 
 him from his central position of Verona, and thence 
 dislodged, to inflict on him an inevitable ruin. Against 
 these he contended with a skill and energy which have 
 rendered his deeds in those campaigns superior in 
 renown to all other feats of strategy or heroism. He 
 himself has not surpassed them. They assured to him 
 the definite possession of Italy, and enabled him, in a 
 subsequent campaign, to cross the Noric Alps and 
 advance within twenty-five leagues of Vienna, where 
 he extorted from the Emperor the famous treaty of 
 Campo-Formo, which secured to France all the vast 
 accessions of territory she had gained from the first 
 outbreak of the revolutionary war. At no period of 
 her history had she concluded so glorious and advanta- 
 geous a peace; and in his double capacity of warrior 
 and pacificator, Napoleon was received in Paris with 
 an enthusiasm befitting the great services he had per- 
 formed. 
 
 But the time was not yet come for Bonaparte's as- 
 sumption of the government ; he must yet gather fresh 
 laurels, and the country be overwhelmed with disasters, 
 ere he could aspire to seize supreme authority in the 
 
46 tfAPOLEON BONA.PASTE. 
 
 republic. It was not at a period when he had raised 
 it to the pinnacle of greatness it would voluntarily 
 aceept him for a sovereign ; a season of calamity was 
 needed to rally its hopes on him as an indispensable 
 instrument of salvation. His position at Paris was 
 irksome both to himself and to the Directory, and it 
 was equally the wish of both that he should forthwith 
 betake himself again to active employment. The 
 Directory was anxious to invade England or Ireland. 
 But Napoleon had a different project of his own, 
 which was more agreeable to those early fancies he had 
 bo fondly indulged ; and he had not completed his 
 conquest of Italy before he cast his eyes on Egypt, as 
 the next theater of his ardent powers. In Egypt he 
 saw the commencement of his visionary subjugation 
 of Asia, or his dethronement of the Ottoman sultanj 
 and an expedition to conquer it was sufficiently plausi-* 
 ble to be defended on the ground of interest to France. 
 The possession of Malta and Egypt was a prodigious 
 step toward that grand traditionary scheme of ren- 
 dering the Mediterranean a French lake, while, by 
 opening the readiest route to India, it facilitated the 
 destruction of England in a more certain manner than 
 by direct invasion. Upon these arguments he main- 
 tained the superior merits of his project, and the 
 Directory was fain to yield to them a reluctant acqui- 
 escence. There was just sufficient of national advantage 
 in it to cloak his personal desires, to which at all times 
 of his life he was ready to sacrifice every other consid- 
 eration. He embarked, therefore, on his extravagant 
 but magnificent enterprise, accompanied by the largest 
 nasral and military armament that had ever crossed » 
 
NAPOLEON HI EGYPT. 47 
 
 wide expanse of sea ; and before the aim of his expe- 
 dition was known to the world, had planted the repub- 
 lican banner on the impregnable ramparts of Malta, 
 the ruined towers of Alexandria, and the glittering 
 minarets of the city of the Caliphs. The battles of the 
 Pyramids and Mount Tabor, fought on fields of such 
 imperishable and hallowed recollection, shed a luster 
 on the French arms, which was all the brighter for the 
 distance it traveled— for the unknown regions that had 
 witnessed them. The French were in raptures at the 
 tidings, for the predominant idea of their Kevolution 
 had become military glory and conquest, to the exclu- 
 sion of all earlier views touching liberty and frater- 
 nity ; and the reverses they were sustaining in Europe 
 gave to them a character of peculiar consolation. The 
 Directory was composed of vulgar and violent men, 
 who displayed an insatiable wickedness in aggressions 
 on the neighbors of France, and who outraged every 
 law in the gratification of its lustful passions. Soon, 
 its detestable usurpation drew upon it the indignation 
 of combined Europe, and its desolating armies were 
 driven back with infamy into the confines of France 
 itself. But for the inveterate cupidity of Austria, and 
 the astounding imbecility of England, the republic 
 must have been overthrown at that time ; as it was, it 
 was redueed to a state of depression and misery unex- 
 ampled among the retributions that have been visited 
 on the sins of the nations. In this dismal crisis, all 
 eyes reverted to the indomitable hero who had already 
 elevated France to such a pitch of grandeur, from 
 which she had fallen the moment his sword was with- 
 drawn, and who alone still upheld the fame of her 
 
48 NAPOLEON BONAPAETE. 
 
 victorious flag ; when, at the critical moment, the de- 
 sired leader appeared, and converted the gloom of his 
 disconsolate countrymen into the joy of an anticipated 
 deliverance. 
 
 Never was a country so ripe to receive a mastei 
 fitted to curb its licentious factions and to restore its 
 vitality, as France in the latter part of 1799. For ten 
 years, she had been engaged in a career of revolution, 
 and at the end of that time, her fervent prayer was 
 for the institution of a despotism, to relieve her from 
 the greater horrors of anarchy and social dissolution. 
 The master she required in her necessities she found 
 in the person to whom her hopes had instinctively 
 turned — in Napoleon Bonaparte, whose absence she 
 had deplored and his return invoked. On the 9th of 
 November, the revolution of the 18th Brumaire, the 
 last of the prolific series since 1790, constituted him 
 First Consul of the French republic, with an almost 
 absolute executive authority. His brother Lucien was 
 of great assistance in accomplishing this object, dis- 
 playing, in his capacity of President of the Council of 
 Five Hundred, a firmness and courage which secured 
 the success of the project when almost on the point of 
 failure. Two subordinate consuls were at the same 
 time created ; but all the chief appointments were 
 vested in the First Consul, who had consequently 
 abundant means of rewarding his friends and parti- 
 sans. The policy he pursued was the beneficent one 
 of amalgamating parties and interests, and of substi- 
 tuting for the violent system of preceding governments 
 one of conciliation and clemency. The measures he 
 took for the restoration of order and tranquillity were 
 
THE FIK8T CONSUL. 4:9 
 
 singularly judicious and effective, and, in a short time, 
 he wrought an incredible change in the condition of 
 France, which joyfully threw herself into his arms, re- 
 posing confidently on his superior intelligence and 
 capacity. But internal ameliorations were of second- 
 ary importance to the still greater object of delivering 
 France from the pressure of foreign enemies, and to 
 this Napoleon directed his unremitting energies. His 
 overtures for peace being contemptuously rejected by 
 the inflated governments of England and Austria, h6 
 prepared to strike a blow, which, by its force and sud- 
 denness, should confound them, and annihilate their 
 pretensions. 
 
 With an army, of whose very existence they were 
 profoundly ignorant, he crossed the great chains of the 
 Alps, and debouched into the plains of Italy, directly 
 on the rear of the Austrians, who were beyond the 
 Appenines, contemplating an immediate invasion of 
 Provence. These, precipitately retrograding, to regain 
 their commnnications, he encountered and vanquished 
 on the memorable field of Marengo, through which 
 event he again became, in the course of a few days, 
 complete master of the whole of Italy. Austria was 
 smitten to the heart by so unlooked-for and miraculous 
 a disaster, and she sent an envoy with plaintive propo- 
 sitions to treat of peace. But England strove to revive 
 her palsied courage by dint of replenished subsidies, 
 and she was induced, with desperate resolution, to try 
 the fortunes of another campaign. This proved equally 
 calamitous, and nothing remained for her but to submit 
 to the will of the conqueror she had unwisely defied. 
 At Luneville, accordingly, on the 9th of February, 
 
 3 
 
50 NAPOLEON BONAPAKTE. 
 
 1801, she signed a treaty infinitely more disadvan- 
 tageous to her than that of Campo-Fornio, and one 
 ■which assured to France an aggrandizement wholly 
 inconsistent with the old balance of power in Europe. 
 Nevertheless, to this sad termination of all her strug- 
 gles against the Eevolution, England herself was 
 reduced to accede: placed in a melancholy isolation 
 against the power of the colossal republic, she, too, 
 guccumbed, and concluded a treaty at Amiens, in 
 March, 1802, in order to gain at least a temporary 
 respite from the afflictions of war. Thus did Napoleon 
 lift France, from an abyss of degradation, to the very 
 highest rank among the nations of the earth ; and 
 while he endowed her with this envied supremacy, 
 healed the festering sores of her internal maladies, 
 and conferred on her a peace and prosperity she had 
 never known since she embarked in her wild crusade 
 against kings, nobles, and priests. Commensurate was 
 the gratitude of her enraptured people, who were ready 
 to testify it by any inordinate expression agreeable to 
 the ambition of their benefactor and idol. 
 
 During the short interval between the 18th Brnmaire 
 and the peace of Amiens, Napoleon appears clothed 
 with a majesty and glory which throws far into the 
 shade the luster of monarchs cradled in royalty. Not 
 only did he beat to pieces the formidable coalition ar- 
 rayed to extinguish France, but all his conduct in this 
 happy era of his life was marked by a wisdom and be- 
 neficence which stands in dazzling contrast with the 
 folly and iniquities of his subsequent career. In his 
 restoration of religion alone, against the most inveterate 
 prejudice confirmed in the course of the Revolution, he 
 
AEE0GA3TCE OF NAPOUEON. 51 
 
 rendered to a benighted land the greatest good it 
 could receive, and the indispensable guardian of society, 
 but which it would certainly not have accepted from 
 any hands save his alone. Yet rarely has the intoxica- 
 tion of power been so quick and overwhelming in its 
 corruption of the mind and the understanding, as in 
 the instance of this extraordinary individual. He 
 almost straightway became the slave of passions that 
 grew in their evil intensity with every gratification 
 which ted them, until they reached a height which 
 overmastered his reason and transformed him into the 
 very curse of humanity. The arrogance of the language 
 he habitually used toward foreign courts — particu- 
 larly the British, which he thoroughly despised — was 
 altogether insufferable ; while he recklessly seized 
 upon dominions that opposed him, regardless of all 
 guarantees imposed by either good faith, policy, or 
 public law. Hence he rendered relations of peace im- 
 possible with him, unless on the part of miserable 
 trucklers like the king of Prussia. 
 
 Encouraged by the admiration and homage of the 
 whole nation of Frenchmen, he constituted himself 
 their Emperor; and amidst an adulation exceeding the 
 abjectness of degenerate Greeks, established an empire 
 unmatched for the rigor of its despotism and the splen- 
 dor of its emblazonries. To consecrate this culminating 
 phase of the Revolution, he summoned to Paris the 
 head of the Catholic church, and exhibited to the as- 
 tonished universe the spectacle of a pope anointing in 
 Nbtre-Dame the plebeian but august warrior, who had 
 / the papacy shorn of the territorial grandeur it had 
 labored so hard in by-gone ages to secure. 
 
52 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 Among all the vices of Napoleon's character, ha 
 cannot assuredly be charged with want of affection for 
 his family, since he displayed toward those connected 
 with him an attachment and regard which was often 
 detrimental to him. His wife, Josephine, was particu- 
 larly dear to him, although her conduct on many occa- 
 sions was not altogether blameless. His letters to 
 her at every period of their union, are replete with 
 expressions of the warmest devotion ; and if at any 
 time she seemed to disregard his wishes, it was through 
 a wayward levity, which left her scarcely mistress of 
 herself. He was supremely fond of her society. That 
 she had borne him no children was a subject of incon 
 solable regret, but he cherished those of her former 
 husband as if they were his own. Both of them 
 possessed in an eminent degree the attractive qualities 
 of their mother ; and Napoleon heaped upon them con- 
 tinual evidences of his affection. Eugene had acted 
 as his aid-de-camp, both in Italy and in Egypt ; at 
 Marengo, he had commanded a brigade of the Guard ; 
 in 1804, he was made an imperial prince and arch- 
 chancellor of state ; in 1805, immediately after Na- 
 poleon's coronation at Milan, he was nominated viceroy 
 of Italy, and subsequently, Prince of Yenice, and heir 
 of the Lombardo- Venetian crown. Hortense was de- 
 signed by Napoleon to be given in marriage to his 
 favorite aid-de-camp, Duroc, whose handsome person 
 and gallant bearing had already won her girlish admi- 
 ration. But Josephine artfully opposed this' arrange- 
 ment, from a natural anxiety she labored under of 
 drawing still closer the ties that united her with her 
 husband ; for her barrenness had already become the 
 
MAREIAGB OF LOUIS AHD HORTENSE. 53 
 
 theme of opprobrium on the part of Joseph and Lu- 
 cien, who labored assiduously with their brother to im- 
 press upon him the expediency of a divorce. On this 
 account, she was intent to bring about a marriage 
 between Louis Bonaparte and Hortense, through which 
 she hoped to defeat the insidious suggestions of her 
 enemies. But serious obstacles stood in the way of 
 her accomplishing her design ; for the young couple 
 had an absolute antipathy toward each other, and • 
 both were actually in love with other parties. Louis 
 had become enamored of Josephine's niece — Louise- 
 Emilie, daughter of Francis, Marquis de Beauharnais, 
 her first husband's elder brother — without, however, 
 engaging the young lady's affections in return. Louis, 
 whose character was naturally of a pensive cast, took 
 his disappointment grievously to heart ; and, joined 
 to an infirm stfite of health, it produced in him a 
 melancholy which preyed on him all the remainder of 
 his life. He never ceased to mourn the loss he had 
 sustained ; and when the proposition of a union with 
 Hortense was made to him, he recoiled from it with 
 abhorrence. He resisted all persuasions with a settled 
 determination ; and it was only by much skillful 
 maneuvering that Josephine at length succeeded in 
 extorting his consent. She had wrung from her 
 daughter, too, an unwilling acquiescence ; and on the 
 4th of January, 1802, the ill-assorted knot was tied — 
 the gloomy countenances of the affianced belying the 
 factitious joy of the courtly retinue that graced their 
 inauspicious nuptials. 
 
 "Without connubial Juno's aid they wed : 
 Nor Hymen nor the Graces bless the bed I " 
 
54 TTAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 " Never," exclaims Louis, in a tone of anguish, " was 
 there a more gloomy ceremon j ? Never had husband 
 and wife a stronger presentiment of the horrors of a 
 reluctant and ill-assorted union ! " Louis was then 
 twenty-four, and Hortense about eighteen. From this 
 he dates the commencement of his unhappiness, his 
 bodily and mental sufferings. It stamped on his whole 
 existence a profound melancholy, a dejection, a drying 
 of the heart, which, he adds, " nothing ever could, or 
 ever will remedy." As for Hortense, who had only 
 left Madame Campan's boarding-school a few weeks 
 before the wedding, a lady who was present at a ball 
 •given in honor of it by Madame de Montesson, states, 
 that "every countenance beamed with satisfaction, 
 save that of the bride, whose profound melancholy 
 formed a sad contrast to the happiness which she 
 might haye been expected to evince : she seemed to 
 shun her husband's very looks, lest he should read in 
 hers the indifference she felt toward him. Covered 
 with diamonds and flowers, she appeared insensible to 
 every thing save regret. From that day, sorrow might 
 easily have been augured from a marriage where the 
 contracting parties were so little agreeable to each 
 other." 
 
 The correspondence between Duroc and Hortense, 
 had been so long and so openly conducted, as to be 
 known to several members of the consular household. 
 The moral character of Hortense was scarcely above 
 reproach. Although married to Louis at the early age 
 of eighteen, she is said to have had two children 
 before her union with him, one of whom died in in- 
 fancy, and the other is still living and holding an office 
 
JOSEPHINE TO HOETENSE. 55 
 
 of considerable dignity under the French government. 
 Fouch6 even goes so far as to intimate that the 
 object of the alliance was to throw a vail over an al- 
 ready existing intimacy between Napoleon and his 
 step-daughter. Certain it is, that Josephine knew of 
 these allegations, so injurious to her honor and her 
 peace. From the following letter, indeed, written long 
 afterward, it not only appears that she was well aware 
 of them, but that Hortense, in one to which this is the 
 answer, had accused her mother of being opposed to 
 the separation from Louis, as giving credit to the 
 reports of having a rival in her daughter. 
 
 JOSEPHINE TO HORTENSE. 
 
 " You have ill-understood me, my child ; there is 
 nothing equivocal in my words, as there cannot exist 
 an uncandid sentiment in my heart. How could you 
 conceive that I participate in some ridiculous, or per- 
 haps, malicious opinions ? !No ! you do not think that 
 I believe you to be my rival. We, indeed, both reign 
 in the same bosom, though by very different, yet 
 equally sacred rights ; and they who, in the affection 
 which my husband manifests for you, have pretended 
 to discover other sentiments than those of a parent and 
 a friend, know not his soul. His is a mind too ele- 
 vated above the vulgar ever to be accessible to the pas- 
 sions. That of glory, if you will, engrosses him too 
 entirely for our repose ; but, at least, glory inspires 
 nothing vile. Such, as touching him, is my profession 
 of faith. I make the confession to you in all sincerity, 
 in order to allay your inquietudes. When I recom- 
 mended to you to love, or, at least, not to repulse Louis, 
 I spoke to you in my character of an experienced wife, 
 an attentive mother, and tender friend, and in this 
 threefold relation do I now embrace you." 
 
 On the accession of Napoleon to the imperial dig- 
 nity, (18th May, 1804,) it became of paramount 
 
56 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 importance with the founder of the dynasty, to decide 
 how and by whom it should be perpetuated. He had 
 himself no offipring, and therefore must choose a col- 
 lateral heir. The imperial crown was settled on his 
 male descendants — these failing, on those of Joseph, 
 and next, on those of Lonis. The exclusion of Lucien 
 and Jerome, shows that they were not in such favor 
 with the Emperor as the other two brothers. "When the 
 decree was referred for ratification to the French peo- 
 ple, (27th November, 1804,) 3,521,675 affirmative, and 
 only 2,579 negative votes were recorded. 
 
 Having thus settled the foundations of his empire, 
 as he deemed, on an imperishable basis, the warlike 
 Corsican prepared to wage battle against the confeder- 
 ated powers of Europe, and exalt his greatness to a yet 
 more colossal height : and, in truth, the armies of the 
 continent were extinguished by him with a facility 
 which might well inflate him with notions of his om- 
 nipotence on earth. At Ulm and Austerlitz he pros- 
 trated the Austrian empire ; at Jena he dissolved in a 
 day the accumulated dominion of Frederick and the 
 house of Brandenburg ; at Friedland he annihilated 
 the martial host of barbaric Russia ; at Tilsit he bound 
 the successor of the savage Romanzoffs captive to his 
 chariot, and whirled him to the precipice on which he 
 had well-nigh met his ruin. Then supreme dominator 
 of the potentates he suffered to reign in corners of 
 their former territories, he trod upon their necks with 
 a pride and insolence wholly unparalleled. From Na- 
 ples he expelled the hostile race of Eourbons, and 
 placed on its throne his brother Joseph ; in Holland 
 he planted Louis as king ; and at Oassel, across the 
 
THE FAMILY OF KINGS. 57 
 
 Rhine, over a heterogeneous compound called the 
 kingdom of Westphalia, he fixed Jerome as a mon- 
 arch. Caroline he gratified by making her husband 
 Grand-Duke of Berg, constituting him a sovereign over 
 300,000 wretched Germans. This system of vassal- 
 fiefs he completed by the confederation of the Rhine, 
 in which he enrolled the second-class powers of Ger- 
 many as his immediate dependents — such as Saxony, 
 Bavaria, and Wurtemburg, whose reigning princes he 
 created kings. Thus he obliterated the ancient Ger- 
 man empire, and absorbed the greatest part of it 
 within the folds of his exorbitant ascendancy. But 
 even such aggrandizements were insufficient to appease 
 the devouring lusts of his heart. He must needs form 
 alliances with sovereign houses. Accordingly, he 
 united his adopted son Eugene to the eldest daughter 
 of the king of Bavaria ; and having compelled Jerome 
 to discard his fair American, he extorted from the re- 
 luctant king of Wurtemburg his daughter Catharine 
 as a wife for his graceless majesty of Westphalia. A 
 niece of the Empress Josephine, Stephanie de Beau- 
 harnais, he married to the hereditary prince of Baden ; 
 while another niece, the beautiful Mademoiselle de 
 Tascher, being created a French princess for the occa- 
 sion, was given in wedlock to the young heir of the 
 house of Aremburg. By these courtly alliances he 
 thought to consolidate his sway, to extend the ramifi- 
 cations of his influence, and to have the obscurity 
 of his origin forgotten. It is melancholy that so 
 witless a conceit, and so poor a vanity, should have 
 overmastered one of the mightiest of human under- 
 standings ! Upon all these distributions and alliances 
 
58 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 of her eons and daughters, the venerable Madame 
 Lsetitia is said to have looked with a cairn and only 
 half-believing eye, living quietly at Paris, and care- 
 fully economizing her income. " Who knows," she is 
 reported to have said, " bnt I may have to keep all 
 those kings and queens one day? " 
 
 When, to the facts above enumerated, we add that 
 Prussia and Austria were servile through defeat, that 
 Sweden was governed by the Frenchman Bernadotte, a 
 relative of the Bonapartes, that Russia was acquiescent, 
 and that only Great Britain was stubborn and irrecon- 
 cilable, we shall have an idea of the distance that 
 Napoleon had advanced in the path to universal em- 
 pire. To secure what had already been attained, to 
 put all else within his grasp, and to give to the work 
 of his life that roundness and finish that he wished it 
 to have in the eyes of posterity, only one thing further 
 seemed necessary — his own marriage, namely, with a 
 princess of the house of Austria. By such a measure, 
 it seemed, two things would be accomplished — the 
 East of Europe would be permanently linked with the 
 West, forming a confederacy so vast in the body, that 
 mere extremities like Russia, Sweden, and Great 
 Britain, would be forced to give in to it ; and the tri- 
 umphant work of modern genius would be guaranteed 
 in a manner satisfactory to the spirit of progressive 
 civilization, by being grafted on the gnarled stock of 
 the whole European past. By such calculations of a 
 moral algebra, did Napoleon reconcile himself to these 
 two important steps in his life — his divorce from tha 
 Empress Josephine, registered the 10th of December, 
 1809 ; and his marriage with the Archduchess Maria- 
 
WATERLOO. 59 
 
 Louisa, daughter of Francis II. To consummate all 
 his expectations from this marriage, only one thing 
 remained to be desired — the birth of a son. In this 
 also his wishes were satisfied ; and on the 20th of 
 March, 1811. the booming of a hundred and one guns 
 over Paris proclaimed the birth of a King of Eome. 
 At his christening, a few days afterward, the imperial 
 child received the name of Napoleon-Francois. 
 
 But the star of Napoleon had reached its zenith. 
 The disastrous invasion of Russia, followed by the mem- 
 orable campaigns of 1813-14, laid the work of years 
 in ruins ; the entry of the allied armies into Paris, 
 31st March, 1814, was the crowning stroke of misfor- 
 tune ; and on the 4th of April was signed the famous 
 act whereby Napoleon unconditionally abdicated, for 
 himself and his heirs, the empire he had so long held. 
 Retaining the imperial title, and receiving from 
 France, as a tribute for his past services, an annual 
 revenue of six millions of francs, ($1,200,000,) the con- 
 queror was to be shut up for the rest of his days, a 
 Bplendid European relic, in the little island of Elba. 
 For ten months he endured the captivity, the assem- 
 bled diplomatists of Europe, meanwhile, re-arranging at 
 Vienna, the chaos that he had left behind him ; but at 
 length the old spirit prevailed in him ; France again 
 contained the Emperor ; Louis XVIII. fled ; and the 
 fluttered diplomatists, kicking over the table at which 
 they had been sitting, had to postpone further proceed- 
 ings till they should again have caged their imperial 
 bird. But the struggle was short ; the last hopes of 
 Napoleon were crushed on the field of Waterloo ; and 
 a few months more saw him confined to the distant 
 
60 NAPOLEON BONAPABTE. 
 
 and solitary rock, where, May 5th, 1821, he closed 
 his extraordinary career. 
 
 From the first, Louis and Hortense pretended to no 
 regard for each other, and from the date of their mar- 
 riage, in January, 1802, to that of their final sepa- 
 ration, in September, 1807, they were not together, 
 more than four months in the whole, and that at three 
 wide intervals. As soon as the political necessities 
 that had kept them together, ceased to exist, they 
 separated by mutual consent. Hortense went to Paris, 
 where she resided in great splendor at court, and 
 where her third son, the subject of this memoir, 
 was born, April 20, 1808. Napoleon Charles, the first 
 son of Louis and Hortense, was born October 10th, 
 1802, and Napoleon Louis, the second, October 11, 
 1804. Charles Louis Napoleon, (or, as he now calls 
 himself, Louis Napoleon,) was the first prince of the 
 family born after Napoleon had assumed the title of 
 Emperor, and his birth was celebrated in the most 
 magnificent manner. Salvos of artillery announced 
 along the whole line of the " grande armee" through- 
 out the vast extent of the empire, that another heir to 
 the imperial scepter was born. France was at that 
 time in the apogee of its grandeur. The genius of 
 Bonaparte was reorganizing Europe, and, in order to 
 give to his power on the continent an appearance of. 
 predominance, the Emperor received with joy the new- 
 born male heir to his political fortunes. At this su- 
 perb epoch, his divorce from Josephine had not been 
 seriously contemplated. His nephews were, therefore, 
 considered by him as the future continuators of his 
 projects, name and power. Napoleon Charles, had 
 
DEATH OF PKINOE NAPOLEON CHARLES. 61 
 
 evinced, from earliest infancy, the happiest disposi- 
 tions, and had gained, in an astonishing manner, upon 
 the affections and hopes of his uncle. He was, besides, 
 the first-born ; and except his two brothers, the only 
 acknowledged son of the imperial family in direct 
 male lineage ; his father was the Emperor's favorite 
 brother, and his birth drew more closely the ties which 
 united his wife and her children to the affections of 
 Napoleon. There appears, therefore, no reason for 
 discrediting the belief then generally entertained of 
 the Emperor's intention to adopt the child. Thus, in 
 the offspring of her daughter, Josephine would have 
 given a successor to the throne of France, and, as has 
 been remarked by a French writer, " her own sorrows, 
 perhaps all the evils that followed, might have been 
 prevented." 
 
 The boy upon whom the destinies of so great an em- 
 pire may thus be said to have rested, died at the Hague, 
 (1807) after a few hours' illness, of the croup. So sud- 
 den and fatal was the attack, that before Corvisart's 
 directions could be received, which, from his knowl- 
 edge of the complaint, might have proved effectual, 
 the child had ceased to live.* Hortense never quitted 
 the room for an instant. When all was over, her 
 attendants endeavored gently to wile her from the 
 apartment : but divining their purpose, even in the 
 distraction of grief, she clung with such convulsive 
 grasp to a sofa by the bed of her child, that her arms 
 could not be unfolded, and she was carried out in this 
 condition. For hours the most alarming apprehensions 
 
 • Oorvisart. Napoleon's private physician, was the first who made 
 successful researches on this disease. 
 
62 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 were entertained for the queen's life. In vain were 
 remedies applied ; her eyes continued fixed and 
 without a tear, her breathing oppressed, and her limbs 
 rigid and motionless, till one of the chamberlains, 
 bearing in the dead body of the little prince, laid it on 
 the mother's knees, leaving the rest to nature. The 
 sight of her son, now shrouded in the peaceful attire of 
 the grave, recalled the unhappy Hortense to a more 
 present and tender sentiment of her loss ; she caught 
 the inanimate form to her bosom, and despair yielded 
 to the sweet agony of tears. 
 
 To Josephine this loss was irremediable ; hers was 
 a grief not less acute, yet greater than a mother's 
 sorrow ; for while she grieved for a beloved child, she 
 trembled to think what might be the consequence to 
 herself. Naturally fond of children, she had loved the 
 young Napoleon Charles with a tenderness corre- 
 sponding to the hopes concentrated on his head. After 
 receiving intelligence of a bereavement which had 
 reached her, before she had perfect knowledge that the 
 blow was menaced, she shut herself up for three days, 
 weeping bitterly ; and, as if to nourish grief, collecting 
 around her his portrait, his hair, his playthings, — 
 every relic that might recall the image of her grandson. 
 A melancholy coincidence added to the poignancy of 
 her sorrow on the sight of the portrait. Some time 
 before setting out for the campaign of Tilsit, the Em- 
 peror. had held a review of the guard, and, on retiring 
 to his apartments in the Tuileries, had, according to 
 custom, flung his sword on one seat and his hat on 
 another, continuing to walk through the saloon in 
 conversation with Josephine. Meanwhile, the child 
 
AKECDOTE8 OF HATOTJEOT3 OHAELES. 63 
 
 had entered unobserved, and, putting the sword-belt 
 over his little neck, and the hat upon his head, began 
 to follow behind his uncle with military step, attempt- 
 ing, at the. same time, to whistle a favorite march. 
 Napoleon turned round, took the boy in his arms, and 
 kissed him fondly, Baying, "See, Josephine, what a 
 charming picture!" The empress, ever studious to 
 gratify her husband, had the young prince painted in 
 this costume by Gerard. The portrait was sent to St. 
 Cloud on the very morning which brought the sad 
 intelligence of the death of the original. 
 
 The boy was very like his father, and, consequently, 
 bore a strong resemblance to the Emperor. His hair 
 was fair, his- eyes blue, and his countenance marked 
 with extraordinary intelligence. He was likewise ex- 
 tremely fond of his uncle, who, in turn, doted upon 
 him as if he had been his own child. One morning, 
 when silently making his way through the saloon, 
 amid a crowd of distinguished personages, Murat, then 
 Grand-Duke of Berg, caught him in his arms. "-What ! 
 Napoleon, not bid me good morning ! " " No," said 
 the child, disengaging himself, " not before my uncle 
 the JTrnperor." In like manner, every thing he re- 
 ceived from his uncle was preferred to all others- 
 King Louis, who loved him tenderly, seeing he disre- 
 garded some new playthings he had just brought him, 
 said, " "Why, my dear child, look how very ugly the 
 old ones are ! " " Ah ! yes, papa, but I got them from 
 my uncle." 
 
 "What chiefly delighted Napoleon was, the firmness 
 of character, and, if the desires of the child may be 
 so termed, the predilection for war displayed by his 
 
64 NAPOLEON BONAPABTE. 
 
 intended heir. Often, in their amusements, the Em- 
 peror would put these qualities to curious but severe 
 tests. At breakfast, he would seat him upon his knee, 
 making the poor little fellow taste of such things as 
 are usually most annoying to cnildren ; the spirited 
 boy would try to look stern, but never refused to take 
 what was offered, though epite and vexation were 
 painted on every feature of his really beautiful coun- 
 tenance. Strawberries (and it is curious that the fruit 
 produced similar effects on Maria Louisa's son) always 
 brought on severe indisposition. Though a favorite 
 dish, they were, of course, strictly prohibited ; but one 
 day the prince had so wrought upon his nurse, that 
 she permitted him to eat a large quantity. The usual 
 consequence ensued ; he was attacked by sickness and 
 vomiting. Hortense insisted on knowing who had dis- 
 obeyed her orders. "Mamma," said the courageous 
 boy, though still suffering, " you may punish me, but I 
 gave my word not to tell, and I will never break my 
 promise." An affecting circumstance is the solicitude 
 shown by this singular child in his parents' misunder- 
 standings ; on observing their estrangement, he would 
 take his father's hand, who thus suffered himself to be 
 conducted to the queen, and the artless pleadings of 
 their son rarely failed to reconcile two beings possess- 
 ing great goodness of heart, but both suffering from 
 the not uncommon calamity in married life of misun- 
 derstanding each other's feelings. 
 
 The most brilliant honors and the solemnity of public 
 rejoicings attended the birth of Louis Napoleon. A 
 family register for the children of the imperial dynasty 
 was deposited- in the senate, as the great book of the. 
 
PEIKCE LOUIS NAPOLEON. $5 
 
 right of succession. The name of the new prince was 
 there inscribed with much pomp. The King of Rome 
 was the second and only one after him. The former 
 was baptized in 1811, at the palace of Fontainbleau. 
 
 The prince, Charles Louis Napoleon, third son of 
 Louis Bonaparte and Queen Hortense, was a child 
 greatly beloved by the Emperor, who was accustomed 
 to draw amusements from, and find recreation in$ his 
 innocent prattle ; it often served as a distraction in the 
 midst of those weighty cares and meditations which 
 constantly occupied his mind. Napoleon gave to his 
 family nothing but the brief season of his repasts. He 
 breakfasted in his cabinet, and alone, at a small table, 
 which no one except the two sons of the king of Hol- 
 land ever shared. He would often send for them in 
 order to inform himself of the progress of their 
 studies^ and to watch the development of the ideas of 
 the two princes, upon whom rested the hopes of his 
 future. He questioned them with interest, amUsed 
 himself with their innocent conversation, and always 
 made them recite fables of his own selection, of which 
 he gave them explanations, and afterward asked them 
 for an account, as an exercise of their young under- 
 standings. Their progress was one of the greatest 
 sources of his satisfaction and delight. 
 
 On his return from Elba, he saw the children again, 
 with renewed pleasure, and his happiness at their 
 health and progress, was the greater, because he had 
 been then deprived of his own son, who was in Vienna. 
 His nephews appeared to fill his place in Napoleon's 
 affections. He was desirous that they should be con- 
 stantly near him, and under his own eyes. At that 
 
66 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 time Prince Louis Napoleon was seven years old. One 
 day, the eve of the Emperor's departure for the fatal 
 campaign of Waterloo, Napoleon had just entered his 
 cabinet ; he appeared anxious and sad, and the brevity 
 and sharpness of his words revealed the deep and 
 engrossing thoughts which occupied his mind. Sud- 
 denly a young boy slipped into the apartment and 
 approached the Emperor ; his whole countenance was 
 impressed with an air of sorrow, and his whole pro- 
 ceedings gave evidence that he was under the influ- 
 ence of some deep emotion, which he was endeavoring 
 to restrain. The child, having approached, threw him- 
 self on his knees before the Emperor, hid his head in 
 his lap, and clasped his legs with his arms, and then 
 his tears began to flow in abundance. "What ails 
 you, Louis?" cried the Emperor, in a tone which indi- 
 cated his annoyance at the interruption. " Why have 
 you come? For what are you crying?" The child, 
 frightened by his manner, could only reply by sobs. 
 Having, however, by degrees recovered confidence and 
 become calm, he at last said, with a sweet, but melan- 
 choly voice — " Sire, my governess has just told me 
 that you are about to set out for the war ! Oh ! do not 
 go! do not go ! " " But why do you not wish me to 
 go?" said the Emperor, with a voice suddenly ren- 
 dered mild by the solicitude of his youthful nephew — 
 for it was Prince Louis Napoleon, the young favorite 
 of the Emperor. "Why do you not wish me to go, 
 my child?" repeated he, lifting up his head, and run- 
 ning his fingers through his beautiful light hair. "It 
 is not the first time I have left for the war. Do not 
 be alarmed^ fear nothing, for I shall soon return." 
 
PKESENTTMENT. 67 
 
 " Oh ! " replied the young prince, while he continued 
 to weep, " Oh ! my dear uncle, those wicked allies are 
 eager to kill you. Let me go, uncle ; let me go with 
 you." /To this the Emperor made no reply, but having 
 taken the young prince upon his knee, he pressed him 
 in his arms and embraced him with warmth and affec- 
 tion. Then, after addressing some kind and playful 
 words to the prince, in order to console him, he was 
 about to restore him to his mother, when, perceiving 
 the effect of his emotion upon one of his officers, he 
 said, " Come, embrace him ; he will have a good heart, 
 and amiable dispositions. He is, perhaps, the hope of 
 my race!" This was presentiment for presentiment. 
 Prince Louis Napoleon had not attained his eighth 
 year, when he was forced away from the soil of France 
 in 1815. Like the King of Rome he refused to go 
 into banishment. The queen, his mother, had great 
 trouble to make him submit to his fate ; and when the 
 Emperor came to Malmaison, to bid his last adieu to 
 his family, he could only be torn by violence from his 
 embrace ; he refused to be separated from his uncle, 
 and cried bitterly, saying that he wanted to fire the 
 cannon upon his tyrants. 
 
CHAPTEE II. 
 
 RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS. 
 
 The palace of Fontainbleau is one of the most an- 
 cient and magnificent in France. Among the many ex- 
 traordinary transactions that have taken place within 
 its walls, — which had been the scene of the joys and 
 revelry, the intrigues and debauchery of the French 
 monarchs, for centuries, — none were more remarkable 
 than the abdication of Napoleon, whose empire had 
 sprung from the Revolution in which the crimes com- 
 mitted at Fontainbleau had met with such a terrible 
 expiation. 
 
 No one need look beyond the history of Fontain- 
 bleau for the origin of the most sanguinary and bloody 
 of Revolutions. The infidelity and immorality that 
 played at the apex of society found their way rapidly 
 to its broad and extended base. The bloodiest heroes 
 of the Revolution were the sons and grandsons of the 
 men who had been taught by their rulers that there is 
 no God in the universe, and no happiness on earth 
 that is not found in the overthrow of the moral sense 
 and in the anarchy of the passions. There had been a 
 clear renunciation, on the part of the kings, of all the 
 duties they owed to the people, before the masses re- 
 belled against the authority of the crown. 
 
 Fontainbleau, from an early period, was in possession 
 
PALACE OF FONTAINBLEATT. 6S 
 
 of the French kings, but was not much used as a 
 royal residence until the accession of Francis I. in 
 1515. He employed many artists to fit it up on the 
 reception of Charles V. "If Charles V. dares to 
 traverse France," said Tribault, the King's jester, " I 
 will give him my fool's cap." " And if I allow him to 
 pass ? " asked the monarch. " Then," replied the fool, 
 with a wisdom which subsequent events justified, " I 
 will take back my cap and make you a present of it ! " 
 Francis laughed and Charles arrived. 
 
 In 1546, Francis I. fell sick, and saw all the courtiers 
 of Fontainbleau abandon him to seek the favor of his 
 successor. Anger revived his strength; he left his bed 
 of suffering, painted his cheeks, put on his silk and 
 velvet clothes, and declaring himself cured, went to 
 the cathedral to return thanks for his recovery. All 
 the courtiers returned in alarm and fell upon their 
 knees. " Ah ! ah ! " said he, with an ironical smile f 
 "I have once more been able to inspire them with 
 fear ! " Then, exhausted by this effort, he fell back and 
 soon expired. Tradition relates that he gave one day 
 a brilliant proof of his courage and strength. A ser- 
 pent eighteen feet long — if Guillaume Morin can be- 
 believed — had become the terror of the hunters and 
 of the peasants. He could not be attacked, because 
 he hid himself between the rocks, and it was, therefore*, 
 necessary to vanquish him by single combat. No one 
 would undertake this. "Well, I will attempt it!" 
 said the king. " For which purpose, (adds the chroni- 
 cler,) he caused to be made an entire suit of armor, 
 covered in several places with sharp blades, so that 
 the serpent attempting to twine around him and enfold 
 
70 EE6T0KA.TI0N OF THE B0TTKB0N8. 
 
 him, was cut in pieces, and the combatant pierced 
 his throat ; and, having killed him, he returned victo- 
 rious, with the astonishment of the whole court, that 
 a man should have the resolution to contend with a 
 monster so venomous and formidable." If this story 
 seems fabulous, we cannot help it ; the author of the 
 History of Gatenais believes the circumstances as if he 
 had seen it. 
 
 A revolution of the boudoir followed at Fontain- 
 bleau the death of Francis I. The prince's favorite, 
 before the Duchess d' Etampes, had been the beautiful 
 Diana de Poitiers, a duchess of the same stamp, under 
 the name of Valentinois. From the father she had 
 passed to the son, and governed the court of the 
 dauphin, while her rival governed the court of the 
 king. Leaning over the death-bed of Francis I., she 
 had watched his last sigh, and said laughingly to the 
 Duke of Guise — "He is going bravely, he is going!" 
 As soon as he had actually expired — as soon as the 
 scepter was within the hands of Henry H, a woman 
 arrived in haste at Fontainbleau. . She entered, with 
 lofty and radiant brow, and summoned the officers and 
 porters, who were still in tears. (Fidelity has always 
 been the virtue of the little.) She showed them an 
 order of the new king, enjoining them to open the 
 doors for her. She went directly to the room where 
 the finest diamonds of the crown were kept. In this 
 room she found another woman, who had worn them 
 the day before, and who, like the servants, was bathing 
 her mourning robes with her tears. With a bitter and 
 disdainful look she froze the grief which merited her 
 respect. She seized the diamonds as her prey; adorned . 
 
THE RIVAL MISTRESSES. 71 
 
 with them her hair, her breast, her arms, her girdle ; 
 and putting the rest in a golden casket, traversed the 
 palace, admiring herself in every mirror, and com- 
 manding like a queen who is taking possession of her 
 dominions. A few moments after, two women met at 
 the Porte Dor6e — she who had just been weeping, and 
 she who had usurped her place. The one was more 
 desolate and more humble still ; the other had never 
 been so beautiful and so triumphant. The one uttered 
 a long sigh, and almost swooned on the threshold ; the' 
 other bid her adieu with a burst of laughter, and had 
 nearly crushed her under the feet of her horse. The 
 first was Madame d'Etampes, the sovereign of tho 
 day before, who was going on foot to finish her days in 
 some humble retreat. The second was Diana of Poi- 
 tiers, the present sovereign, who was returning in her 
 carriage to Henry II. Diana was then forty-four, 
 and had never been more beautiful, says Brantome, 
 who could not yet, seventeen years after, recall her 
 without emotion. This phoenix of grace, this monster 
 of pride, reigned at Fontainhleau without a rival. 
 Henry H. limited himself to being the most valiant 
 knight, the most courageous champion, the most active 
 leaper in France ; in other respects well enough, a 
 slave of his favorite through amiability of disposition, 
 as well as through indolence of mind. Meanwhile, the 
 true queen, who was one day to become Catherine de 
 Medicis, saw with a gloomy and jealous eye this power 
 which supplanted hers, and acquired amid the shame- 
 ful corruptions, the diabolical genius of which she 
 afterward gave such formidable proofs. She shook off 
 the yoke* and threw aside the mask, on the very day 
 
ffy BEST0BA.TI0N OF THE BOUBBONS. 
 
 ef Henry H-.'s death. Struck in the tourney of the Ru$ 
 $t. Antoine by a fragment from the lance of Mont- 
 gomery, the king was still breathing when an officer 
 Went in search of the Duchess of Valentinois. " In the 
 name of Queen Catherine," said he to her, " deliver up 
 the diamonds of the crown and quit the palace imme- 
 diately." " While Henry H. breathes," fiercely replied 
 Diana, "I acknowledge no master below!" And she 
 remained, in fact, until evening. But the next day the 
 king was no more, and she left Fontainbleau, for her 
 chateau of Anet. 
 
 , TJnder Charles IX. and Henry IY., Fontainbleau 
 was the theater of gayety and voluptuousness. The 
 majestic but malignant Catherine de Medicis and the. 
 belle Gabrielle d' Estrees were its most celebrated mis- 
 tresses. It was at Fontainbleau that the great heart, 
 of Henry devised the sublime plan of dividing Europe, 
 into fifteen different states, so well balanced and gov- 
 erned that civil or national wars should be impossible. 
 May our century see the essential realization of that 
 dream, which elevates Henry IV. to the first rank of 
 philanthropists ! He had already converted'to his ideas 
 Rome and Venice, Savoy, England, Denmark, Sweden, 
 the Protestants of Hungary and Bohemia, Austria, and 
 the United Provinces. Spain and the Emperor Eo- 
 dolphe alone repelled this fraternal alliance, and con- 
 strained the king of France to prepare for a war, 
 which /was to bring about universal peace. The poniard 
 of Rayillac put an end at once to the great man and 
 his great project. 
 
 The reign of Louis XIV. was truly characterized by 
 the remark of Grouvllle.: "The misfortunes of tha 
 
Louis xrv. 73 
 
 succeeding reigns were his work, and he has hardly 
 influenced posterity except for its ruin." Louis was 
 equally dissolute and bigoted. No words that we can 
 venture to employ, would give an adequate idea of the 
 profligacy prevalent under his reign — of the debauch- 
 eries of the clergy, the vileness of the courtiers, the 
 immorality of all classes. " The clergy, (says Dulaure,) 
 with the exception of a few men of genius, who threw 
 a bright luster upon their century, and a few others, 
 commendable for their talents and regular lives, were 
 plunged in ignorance and dissoluteness. When the 
 conversion of the Protestants was undertaken, hardly a 
 priest was to be found in the rural districts capable of 
 instructing them by his discourse, and of ■edifying 
 them by his conduct. The king set an example of dis- 
 order by his gallantries." A king who scrupled not to 
 travel with his wife and his two mistresses, (de Mont- 
 espan and la Valliere,) all in the same carriage — while 
 the people flocked to see the three queens, as they 
 called them — could with ill grace have shown himself, 
 too severe a censor of his subjects. Later, however ; 
 in the height of his fanaticism, when he was com- 
 pletely in the hands of the pious Madame de Mainte- 
 non and his spiritual advisers, and religion was the 
 order of the day, the clergy and courtiers continued 
 their evil courses, merely adding hypocrisy to their 
 other vices. While the king was occupied with his 
 amours, (says Duclos,) the court was gallant ; the con- 
 fessor stepped in and took possession, and it became 
 dull and hypocritical. The courtiers ran to the chapel 
 as they before had hurried to ball and pageant ; but the 
 king was still the god to whom the worship waa 
 
 4 
 
74 BESTOEATION OF THE BOUBBONS. 
 
 addressed. He had opportunities of perceiving this. 
 Once when he was expected at evening prayer, the 
 aisles were full of courtly devotees. Brissac, major of 
 the body-guard, entered the chapel, and said aloud to his 
 men that the king was not coming, and withdrew them. 
 In an instant the chapel emptied itself. A quarter of 
 an hour afterward, Brissac replaced the guards. The 
 king arrived, and was astonished at the extraordinary 
 solitude. Brissac told him the reason ; Louis laughed, 
 and perhaps he pardoned the indifference to religion in 
 favor of the respect and fear shown to his person. The 
 corruption of the court was extreme. " They united, 
 (says Dulaure,) pride with baseness, licentiousness with 
 devotion,'the forms of politeness with acts of cruelty. 
 "When too old for amorous intrigues, they became pas- 
 sionate gamblers, quarrelsome, litigious, false devotees, 
 the tyrants of their homes, the curse of their families. 
 The annals of tribunals, and historical records, afford 
 abundant and indisputable proofs of the truth of this 
 picture." When devotion (or hypocrisy,) had become 
 the fashion at court, " the lady gamblers, (says a con- 
 temporary writer,) upon separating, pronounced a 
 formula, by which they reciprocally made each other a 
 present of such gains as they might have acquired by 
 cheating ! This mode of defrauding God, practiced by 
 so many pious harpies, even in the very apartments of 
 Madame de Maintenon, appeared to me an eminently 
 characteristic trait." The mixture of bigotry and liber 
 tinism, prevalent at the end of the 17th century, was 
 most curious. Compliance with the forms of religion, 
 with fasts and penitence, was held far more important 
 than a virtuous life. Louis XTV.'s son, known as the 
 
BTTEIAL OF LOOTS XIV. 75 
 
 grand -dauphin, considered it one of the blackest of 
 crimes to eat meat on a fast-day. During Lent he sent 
 to Paris for one of his mistresses, an actress named 
 Raisin ; and when she came he gave her nothing to 
 eat but salad and bread fried in oil, imagining that a 
 sin avoided expiated a sin committed ! The king's 
 brother, eating a biscuit, said to the Abbe Feuillet, a 
 canon of St. Cloud, " This is not breaking the fast." 
 " Eat a calf, (replied the priest, with a frankness and 
 honesty rare at that time,) and be a Christian ! " It was 
 the age of hypocrisy and outward observance. The 
 husk of religion was offered to God ; the grain was 
 nowhere. People went daily to church ; there to talk 
 and laugh, and see their friends. 
 
 No monarch had ever been so flattered in life as 
 Louis XIV. ; few have been so insulted in death. Eo 
 one was ever more magnificent in his expenditures ; 
 few have been buried with so little pomp. It was an 
 occasion of great rejoicing. His wife abandoned him 
 several days before his death. "While his coffin was 
 being deposited in its final resting-place, the writers of 
 lampoons and satires, were hard at work at the poor 
 king's expense. 
 
 This dissolute monarch, who blazoned forth his 
 adulteries, and 6et aside the laws of marriage when he 
 proclaimed the children of his mistress to be as legiti- 
 mate as his lawful issue, was a strict devotee, and 
 made eager efforts to persuade the Huguenots to return 
 to the Catholic faith — efforts which, when unsuccess- 
 ful, were replaced by the most oppressive and cruel 
 measures. The persecutions were preceded and ac- 
 companied by ardent attempts at nroselytism. On all 
 
1-Q BESTOBATION OF THE BOTJBBONS. 
 
 sides missionaries were at work. When they failed, 
 dragoons replaced them. The sword succeeded the 
 crucifix. Neither were successful; but a hundred and 
 fifty thousand families, belonging to the most intelli- 
 gent portion of the French population, fled from their 
 native land, where religious liberty was refused them, 
 to enrich other countries by their ingenuity and indus- 
 try. By guarding the frontiers, Louvois endeavored, 
 but in vain, to check this wholesale emigration, the 
 evil of which was insufficient to wrest concession from 
 the king. "The first of religions for Louis XTV.," 
 says Duclos, "was the belief in the royal authority; 
 Ignorant, besides, in matters of doctrine, superstitious 
 in his devotion, he pursued a real or imaginary heresy 
 as an act of disobedience, and thought to expiate his 
 fault by persecution." 
 
 The first formal visit of Louis XV. at Fontainbleau, 
 was the denouement of a touching story. Stanislaus, 
 formerly king of Poland, but dethroned by Peter the 
 Great, was pensioned by the generosity of France. 
 The hand of his daughter, Marie Leczinska, had been 
 demanded in marriage by the Count d'Estrees. The 
 king gave his consent on condition that d'Estrees 
 would obtain the rank of duke. When the count pre- 
 sented himself to the regent, (Louis XV. being yet a 
 minor,) and stated his request and the object of it, that 
 personage replied — " You are mad , to think of marry- 
 ing the daughter of an ex-king, who has not the means 
 of subsistence. She is the worst match in Europe. 
 Think no more of it. I will cure you of your fine 
 passion, by marrying you to the daughter of a farmer- 
 general, with a dowry of some millions. You shall. 
 
THE QUEEN AND THE DUCHESS. *Cl 
 
 after that, be a duke and peer, if you like. We will 
 arrange this business. Come to-morrow and sup at 
 the Palais Royal ! " Louis XV. remained pensive, and 
 d' Estrees, abashed, allowed himself to be drawn away 
 by the regent. He renounced the hand of the prin- 
 cess, under pretexts which scarcely concealed forget- 
 fnlness and disdain. This was the last drop of the 
 ciip which the proscribed king had drank to the dregs. 
 His daughter was repulsed, as an unworthy match, 
 by an officer of the guards — turned from his honor- 
 able purpose by the raillery of the regent. But his sor- 
 row was soon turned to joy. The same courier who 
 carried to him the letter of d' Estrees was also the 
 bearer of another from Louis XV., demanding the 
 hand of Marie in marriage. The bride, scorned by an 
 officer, became the Queen of France and of Navarre ! 
 The portrait drawn by d' Estrees of the graces of Marie, 
 had remained engraved on the heart of the young 
 monarch, and Providence had done the rest. The 
 marriage of Louis XV. and Marie Leczinska, was cele- 
 brated formally at Fontainbleau, in the month of 
 September, 1725. The new queen avenged herself on 
 the officer of the guards only by procuring for him the 
 titles of duke and peer, and saying to a friend, when 
 the Duchess d' Estrees came to pay her court — "I 
 might have been in the place of this lady, and have 
 done reverence to the queen of France." 
 
 The immoderate love of pleasure during the reign 
 of Louis XV., and which, from the higher descended to 
 the lower classes, and was defended or excused by the 
 infidel philosophy of the day, occasioned a fearful 
 separation of reason from morality, and of the passions 
 
78 BESTOEATION OF THE BOURBONS. 
 
 from rectitude. The moral infection spread farther 
 and farther, and ate deeper and deeper into the roots 
 of public spirit and every civil virtue. Even Louis 
 XIV., despite the badness of his example, left the fol- 
 lowing noble advice to his grandson — "Do not bur- 
 den the people with needless expenditures. Love 
 peace, and undertake no war, except when the good 
 of the state and the welfare of your people render it 
 necessary." A much deeper impression should have 
 been made on the mind of the royal child, by the con- 
 duct of the people who accompanied the hearse of his 
 father with, insults and the grossest expressions of joy. 
 But Villeroi, his teacher, used to carry him from win 
 dow to window of the palace, exclaiming — "See 
 there, my king ! your people; all these people belong 
 to you; all that you see is your property; you are lord 
 and master of it ! " In his manhood, as the result of 
 such teachings, the affairs of France were not regarded 
 as those of Louis XV. He was accustomed to say — 
 " Let us amuse ourselves, even if the deluge comes 
 afterward ! " How different were the views of his 
 father, the noble Duke of Burgundy, who intended, in 
 case he ascended the throne, to restore to the people 
 their lost rights. It was he who, shortly before his 
 death, while contemplating Paris from a high tower, 
 cried out — " What delight a king must experience in 
 making so many people happy ! " Always confined to 
 his study, he there contracted the malady which short- 
 ened his days. He would take no care of himself, and 
 obstinately refused the aid of medicine. One day Dr. 
 Senac entered, on the part of the king, and attempted 
 to give him some advice. " I shall be delighted to see 1 
 
JOSEPHINE AT FONTAINBLEAU. - 79 
 
 you," said the prince, " if you talk to me of science and 
 literature; but if you say a word about health, I shall 
 prohibit your entering my apartment." Senac then 
 turned toward a tapestry which represented Alexan- 
 der the Great, and began to enumerate all the dangers 
 of a disease from neglected lungs. " Doctor," replied 
 the dauphin, " have I not forbidden you to speak of 
 these things ? " "I was not addressing you," said 
 Senac, " but Alexander, who deigns to listen to me." 
 The prince smiled, but forgot the advice, and died at 
 the fall of the leaves. 
 
 Fontainbleau, which had witnessed so many varying 
 scenes, became the theater of the greatest errors and 
 most bitter disasters of Napoleon's imperial reign. It 
 was there that-Pius VII. found supreme honors, when 
 he came to crown the great conqueror ; and it was 
 there that the generous pontiff was, after an interval of 
 nine years, imprisoned by the haughty Emperor. In 
 this interval, Napoleon had brought Europe to his feetj 
 distributed crowns to his family, and realized, in 
 France, all the grandeur of the age of Augustus, of 
 Leo X., and of Louis XIY. It was there that Jose- 
 phine, while her happiness lasted, shared it with the 
 whole world. But her husband soon grew cold toward 
 her, and she foresaw the dissolution of their union. 
 The first word which announced this fatal divorce was 
 pronounced at Fontainbleau, in the Emperor's cabinet. 
 How many tears flowed from this moment until the 
 day of the separation ! Josephine had loved Napoleon, 
 and been beloved passionately by him in his youth*, 
 fche had shared his humble fortune ; by her connec- 
 tions in Paris, and especially by her skillful conduct 
 
80 BESTOBATION OF THE BOURBONS. 
 
 during his Egyptian expedition, she had most materi- 
 ally assisted him in the attainment of the sovereign - 
 dignity ; she had subsequently adorned his court, and 
 gratified his pride by the elegance of her manners, and 
 won to herself the attachment of his people, by her 
 sincere good nature and active benevolence. Her 
 power over her husband was known to be great, and 
 no one ever doubted but that it had uniformly been 
 exerted on the side of mercy. She was considered as 
 the good angel who, more frequently and effectually 
 than any influence besides, interfered to soothe the 
 fierce passions, and temper the violent acts of her lord. 
 Her devotion to him was perfect : she partook his la- 
 bors as far as he would permit her to do so, submitted 
 to all his caprices, and, with a dark presentiment that 
 his ambition would one day cast her aside, continued 
 to center the whole of her existence in the contempla- 
 tion of his glory. At last Josephine departed, and the 
 good genius of Napoleon departed with her. France 
 was thenceforth suspicious of the man who had dis- 
 trusted himself; and Maria Louisa, the new Empress, 
 brought to Fontainbleau, under her Austrian mantle, 
 neither the heart of a woman nor the head of a queen. 
 Napoleon, nevertheless, did all that he could to avert 
 the evil star, and to please the wife destined to give 
 him a son. Maria Louisa found in the private garden 
 the pines which are still seen there. The Emperor had 
 caused them to be planted to remind her of the aspect 
 /of German forests. These delicate attentions did not 
 'prevent Maria Louisa from forgetting Austria in 
 France, then France in Austria, and at a later period, 
 bestowing upon an Austrian colonel the hand which 
 had held the imperial scepter ! 
 
NAPOLEON AND THE POPE. 81 
 
 It was at Fontainbleau that Napoleon had his cele- 
 brated interview with the pope which is still a great 
 historic mystery. Yet one of the pages about the 
 palace professes to have overheard it, and gives the fol- 
 lowing account of the conversation : The pope sat 
 with downcast eyes, seemingly resigned to hear what 
 Napoleon might say without replying. The Emperor, 
 after walking about the room, and watching the pon- 
 tiff, now in profile, now in the mirrors about the room, 
 said abruptly — " Do not, holy father, assume the air 
 of a martyr, offering his sufferings to Heaven. Such is 
 not your situation. You are only a voluntary pris- 
 oner. Say a single word, you are free ; the road to 
 Kome is open, no one shall detain you." Pius VII. 
 sighed, raised his right hand, and looked at the golden 
 cross which he wore suspended from his neck. " If the 
 dignity of your character did not prevent me, I should 
 say you were a little ungrateful. You do not seem 
 sufficiently to have remembered the good offices which 
 France has rendered you. The conclave of Venice, 
 which elected you pope, has to me a little the appear- 
 ance of having been inspired by my campaign in Italy, 
 and by a word which I said about you. I have never 
 had time to study theology myself ; but I attach great 
 faith to the power of the church. She has a prodigious 
 vitality. Holy father, you shall be satisfied with me ! 
 We can, if you please, do great things in the future." 
 And with an air of the most gentle and naive confi- 
 dence : " For example, I do not see why you should be 
 reluctant to reside in Paris always. I will even allow 
 you the Tuileries, if you desire it. You will already 
 find there your chamber of Monte Cavallo, which is 
 J 4* 
 
82 BESTOBATION OF THE BOURBONS. 
 
 prepared for you. I shall not live there much. Do 
 you not see clearly, Padre, that this is the true capital 
 of the world ? As for me, I will do all you wish me 
 to ; I am the most obedient child in the world. Pro- 
 vided war and politics are left to me, you shall manage 
 the church as you please. I will be only your soldier. 
 This will be truly fine ; we will have councils like Oon- 
 stantine and Charlemagne ; I will open them and close 
 them ; I will afterward place in your hands the true 
 keys of the world, and as our Lord has said : ' I am 
 come with the sword,' I will only ask your blessing 
 upon each success of our arms." The pope remained 
 mute and motionless. Napoleon smiling, bent forward 
 and awaited a reply. The old man at last slowly 
 raised himself and sighed, as if speaking to his 
 invisible angel : — Oommedicmte! " ( Comedian ! ) 
 
 The Emperor bounded like a wounded leopard, bit 
 his lip till it bled, jingled his spurs, and made the floor 
 shake and the curtains tremble. "la comedian ! " 
 exclaimed he suddenly. " Oh ! I will give you come- 
 dies which shall make you all weep like women and 
 children. Comedian ! Ton are mistaken if you think 
 this insolent coolness will affect me ! My theater is the 
 world ; the part which I play in it is that of manager 
 and author; for actors, I have yon all, pope, kings, 
 people 1 * and the thread by which I move you, is 
 fear ! Comedian ! Ah ! it will take a man of another 
 stamp than yourself to dare to applaud or to hiss me. 
 Signor Chiaramonti! do yon know that you would be 
 
 * Napoleon was accustomed to use such proud language. " Come to 
 Eifurth, (said he on one occasion to Talma, the actor,) and you. shM 
 play btfart a whole pit full of kings I" 
 
COMEDIAN TRAGEDIAN. S3 
 
 •r*ly a poor curate if I willed, you and] your tiara? 
 France would laugh in your face, if I should not pre- 
 serve my serious air in saluting you. Only four years 
 Bince, no one dared speak the name of Christ aloud. 
 Who then would have spoken of the pope, if you 
 please ? Comedian ! It is I who hold you all in my 
 fingers ; it is I who move you from South to North, 
 like puppets ; it is I who pretend to rely upon you in 
 some things, because you represent an old idea which 
 I wish to resuscitate ; and you have not wit enough to 
 perceive this and to act as if you did not perceive it. 
 I must speak plainly ! You must look closely at things 
 before you can comprehend them. And you really 
 think we need you, and lift up your head, and clothe 
 yourself in your woman's robes ? But learn that they 
 do not impose upon me, and that if you go on, I will 
 treat yours as Charles VII. did that of the Grand 
 Vizier, I will rend it to pieces with a blow from my 
 epurs ! " Pius VII. was as calm as before ; the same 
 smile of resignation dwelt on his lips. He raised his 
 eyes a second time and said as before, with a sigh : — 
 u Tragedienne! " ( Tragedian ! ) 
 
 This was too much. Napoleon, who was standing 
 at the extremity of the chamber, darted like an arrow, 
 rushed upon the pontiff as if he would have killed 
 him, but stopped at the table, took from it a vase of 
 Sevres, and crushed it to fragments beneath his heel. 
 He threw himself violently into a chair, and after re- 
 flecting in gloomy silence, said — "It is true, this is a 
 wretched life ! It is true, tragedian or comedian ! all 
 is acting, all is costume for me, has been and will be 
 forever. "What weariness! "What littleness! To 
 
84 BESTOEATION OF THE BOUBBONS. 
 
 practice postures ! always to practice postures 1 The 
 face to this party, the profile to that, according to their 
 ideas. To appear to them to be what they choose to 
 have you, and to divine justly their imbecile dreams. 
 To place them all between hope and fear ; to dazzle 
 them by dates and bulletins, by prestiges of distance 
 and prestiges of name ; to be the master of all, and 
 not know what to do with them. Faith, this is all! 
 And after this all, to suffer from ennui as I do ; it is 
 too much. For, in fact, (pursued he, crossing his legs 
 and throwing himself back in his chair,) I am enor- 
 mously wearied. As soon as I sit down I am ready to 
 burst with ennui. I could not hunt three days at Fon- 
 tainbleau without being tired to death. I must go 
 where I must go ; if I know where, may I be hanged. 
 I speak to you frankly. I have plans for the lives of 
 forty emperors ; I make one every morning and one 
 every night ; I have an indefatigable imagination, but 
 before I had time to carry two of them into execution, 
 I should be worn out body and soul ; for our poor 
 lamp does not burn long. And, candidly, if all my 
 plans should be executed, I would not swear that the 
 world would find itself much happier, but it would 
 be more beautiful, and a majestic unity would reign 
 over it. I am not a philosopher myself, and I know 
 no one but our secretary of Florence that has common 
 sense. I understand nothing of certain theories. Life 
 is too short for rest. As soon as I have planned, I 
 execute. Enough explanations of my acts will be found 
 after me to exalt me if I succeed, and humble me if I 
 fall. Paradoxes are here already ; they abound in 
 France. I keep them quiet while I live, but after mo 
 
SHAKING HANDS. 85 
 
 they will appear. No matter — my business is to suc- 
 ceed. I make my Iliad in action, every day. "What 
 ■would you have ? — one must live ; we must find our 
 place and dig our hole. I have made mine like a bullet. 
 So much the worse for those who were before me! 
 Every one eats according to his appetite. For myself, 
 I was very hungry ! When I have worn for an hour 
 my imperial costume, I have had enough of it. I re- 
 sume my uniform, and mount my horse. Always on 
 horseback ! all my life on horseback ! There are in the 
 world but two classes of men : those who possess, and 
 those who are reaching forward. The first may lie 
 down, the second are moving. As I understood that 
 early, I have gone far ; that is all. There are work- 
 men on buildings, in colors, in forms, and in phrases ; 
 I am an architect of battles. This is my profession. I 
 have already manufactured fifty, which are called vic- 
 tories. I must be paid for my work ; and the pay of 
 the emgjre is not too dear. Besides, I shall continue 
 to labor. You will see many others. You will see all 
 dynasties date from mine, parvenu as I am — like 
 yourself, holy father, elected, and taken from the 
 crowd. On this point, we can shake hands." And he 
 hastily presented his hand to Pius VUL., who, touched 
 by this frank confession, and seeing him at last throw 
 off the double mask which he had wrested from him 
 by two words, extended in turn his trembling hand, 
 and, letting fall a tear on his thin cheek, yielded his 
 temporal power. 
 
 On the 23d of January, 1814, the pope left Fontain- 
 bleau, blessing the crowd assembled in the court of Le 
 Cheval Blanc ; and on the 13th of March following, 
 
86 
 
 .RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS. 
 
 Napoleon learned in the same court the entrance into 
 Paris of the kings whom he had driven from their 
 capitals. This downfall of the terrible Emperor was 
 greater than his elevations. His defense of the French 
 territory against- foreign invasion surpassed the glory 
 of his finest conquests ; and he never appeared so sub- 
 lime as on the night in which he re-entered Fontain- 
 bleau exhausted, repeating, " All is lost except honor." 
 The enemies of Bonaparte had triumphed. He 
 could no longer carry on the war against them. After 
 great reluctance and a long debate among his mar- 
 shals, he seated himself at a table and traced with a 
 firm hand the following lines : 
 
 " The allied powers having proclaimed that the Em- 
 peror Napoleon is the sole obstacle to the re-establish, 
 ment of peace in Europe, he, faithful to his oath, de- 
 clares that he is ready to descend from the throne, to 
 quit France, and even to relinquish life, for the good 
 of his country, which is inseparable from the rights of 
 his son, from those of the regency in the perso* of the 
 empress, and from the maintenance of the laws of the 
 empire. Done at our palace of Fontainbleau, April 
 the 4th, 1814. Napoleon." 
 
 These lines, dignified in expression and replete with 
 deep feeling, were worthy of the solemn occasion. The 
 treaty of Fontainbleau, in which, having abandoned 
 all hope, he renounced for himself and his heirs the 
 throne of France and of Italy, was concluded on the 
 11th of April. But little remained except to bid 
 adieu to his companions in arms. On the 20th of 
 April the relics of his imperial guard were drawn up 
 in the court-yard of the castle. He advanced toward' 
 them on horseback; and tears dropped from his eyes 
 
NAPOLEON AOT) THE IMPEEIAL GTTAED. 87 
 
 as he dismounted in their midst. " All Europe," said 
 Kapoleon, "has armed against me. France herself 
 has deserted me, and chosen another dynasty. I 
 might, with my soldiers, have maintained a civil war 
 for years — but it would have rendered France un- 
 happy. Be faithful to the new sovereign whom your 
 country has chosen. Do not lament my fate : I shall 
 always be happy while I know that you are so. I 
 could have died — nothing was easier — but I will 
 always follow the path of honor. I will record with 
 my pen the deeds we have done together. I cannot 
 embrace you all," he continued, taking the command- 
 ing officer in his arms, "but I embrace your general 
 Bring hither the eagle. Beloved eagle I may the 
 kisses I bestow on you long resound in the hearts of 
 the brave ! Farewell, my children — farewell my 
 brave companions — surround me once more — fere- 
 well ! " Amid the silent but profound grief of these 
 brave njen, submitting like himself to the irresistible 
 force of events, Napoleon placed himself in his 
 carriage, and drove rapidly from Fontainbleau. 
 
 It is most painful to contemplate these scenes. 
 What agonies must have passed through the heart of 
 6uch a man, so humbled ! What inevitable contrasts 
 of the throne with the dungeon ! What sense of 
 shame in the humiliation which thus placed him at 
 the disposal of his own few followers ! What sleepless 
 anxiety in those midnight consultations, in those ex- 
 posures to public shame, in this sense of utter ruin, in 
 this terrible despair! If some great painter shall 
 hereafter arise to vindicate the pencil by showing its 
 ■power of delineating the deepest passions of our nature, 
 
88 BESTOBATJ.ON OP THE BOTJBBONS. 
 
 or some still greater poet shall come to revive the 
 day of Shakspeare, and exhibit the tortures of a 
 greater Macbeth, fallen from the highest elevation of 
 human things into a depth of self-reproach and self- 
 abasement to which all the powers of human language 
 might be weak — what a subject for them were here ! 
 
 The apartments at Fontainbleau are full of the giant 
 shadow of the Emperor : it was there that he labored 
 in the days of his glory — it was there that he fell in 
 his greatness. The round table at which he wrote his 
 abdication is still there. It bears, at present, on a 
 plate of copper, this historical inscription, engraven 
 by order of Louis XVIII.: — " On the 5th of April, 
 1814, Napoleon Bonaparte signed his abdication on 
 this table, in the King's Cabinet ! the second from 
 the sleeping-chamber at Fontainbleau." We may 
 easily recognize in this the prince who always spoke 
 of the Emperor Napoleon as Monsieur de Bonaparte.* 
 
 The capacities of Napoleon as a civil ruler were 
 scarcely inferior to his talents as a general. We find 
 ample evidence of the success with which he applied 
 the native vigor of his understanding to the science of 
 government, in his dispatches to the ministers of state, 
 in his recorded conversations with his friends, in his 
 speeches and observations to his council, and in the 
 admirable measures he adopted or suggested for the 
 
 * Louis XVIII.'s dislike to Napoleon is well knowu. The late J. Fen- 
 imore Cooper, writingl from Paris, in 1826, mentions the following cir- 
 cumstance in regard to it : " My girls have shown me an abridgment of 
 the history of France, that has been officially prepared for the ordinary 
 schools, in which there is no sort of allusion to him (Bonaparte.) The 
 wags here, say that a work has been especially prepared for the heir 
 presumptive, however, in which the Emperor is a little bettor treated j 
 being«s]joken of as "a certain Marquis de Bonaparte who commanded 
 the armies of the king I" 
 
napoleon's civil .administration. S& 
 
 reorganization of France from 1800 to 1804. It is im- 
 possible to read the account of these without doing 
 involuntary homage to the strong, clear sense, the 
 instinctive wisdom, which, amid all the fatal errors 
 which ambition led him to commit, marked every 
 observation which fell from this wonderful man. Nor 
 does history alone contain the proofs of Napoleon's ex- 
 traordinary administrative capacity. All France and 
 Italy abound with the undertakings of public utility 
 which he set on foot and carried through. It appears 
 that during the twelve years of his government he ex- 
 pended no less than $200,000,000 on the public works 
 in the various countries under his rule ; ($140,000,000 
 in France alone ;) and of these, $110,000,000 were for 
 roads, bridges, harbors, and canals, which will remain 
 eternal monuments of his genius and power, and per- 
 petual blessings and sources of civilization to all 
 Europe, long after the hand of time and industry shall 
 have obliterated the last lingering traces of his desolat- 
 ing wars, and when the memory of his crimes and his 
 glory shall have faded into the dim remoteness of the 
 past. The Antwerp harbor, the Alpine roads, and the 
 Code Napoleon, will long survive the effects of the 
 mischiefs which he caused and the sufferings which he 
 inflicted. 
 
 The reverse of this interesting picture is presented 
 when we turn from his intellectual endowments to con- 
 template his moral qualities. Yet even here there was 
 much that was attractive. He was a man of fasci- 
 nating manners, of occasional impulses of generous 
 emotion, and of warm and kind, though limited affec- 
 tions. He appears to have been sincerely attached te 
 
90 EESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS. 
 
 his wife and child, and to a few of his early compan 
 ions in arms. But the prominent feature of his char 
 acter was a hard, cold, unrelenting selfishness. What- 
 ever interfered, or seemed likely to interfere, with his 
 own fame, his own aggrandizement, his own ambition, 
 was trampled under foot with the most ruthless 
 resolution. His frequent and contemptible disregard of 
 truth ; his entire disregard of the lives of his soldiers, 
 or the exhaustion of his country, or his own deliberate 
 promises or solemn treaties, or, in short, of any con- 
 sideration whatever, when in pursuit of the object he 
 had determined to obtain; enable us to look without 
 regret upon the retributive fate which finally overtook 
 him. The insatiable and unresting ambition of Na- 
 poleon admits of no excuse. His encroachments were 
 even more daring and intolerable in time of peace 
 than during war. He pursued them from passion, and 
 justified them on principle. It would appear that 
 Providence had sent him upon earth, to show to the 
 worshipers of grandeur and of genius, how com- 
 pletely all that is most magnificent in intellectual en- 
 dowments may be divorced from moral excellence and 
 the generous affections ; and when so divorced, how 
 incalculably sad and terrible are its consequences to 
 mankind. It seems almost certain that if Napoleon, at 
 the height of his power, had sheathed the sword, and 
 devoted his talents and actions to internal improve- 
 ments, and to the reparation of the ravages which his 
 wars had made in the wealth, the finances, the com- 
 merce, the population, and the agriculture of France, 
 he might have maintained the extended boundaries 
 of his empire and have continued to reign over it. 
 
CHARACTER OF WAE. 91 
 
 From the commencement to the close of Napoleon's 
 career, the levies of soldiers in France exceeded four 
 millions, and not less than three millions of these per- 
 ished in the field, the hospital or the bivouac. If to 
 these we add at least an equal number out of the ranks 
 of their antagonists, it is clear that not less than six 
 millions of human beings perished in warfare in the 
 course of twenty years, in the very heart of civilized 
 Europe, at the commencement of the nineteenth cen- 
 tury of the Chistian era. But even these stupendous 
 numbers give us no adequate conception of the de- 
 struction of human life directly consequent on the wars 
 of the Revolution and the Empire. We must add the 
 thousands who perished from want, outrage, and ex- 
 posure, and the hundreds of thousands who were subse- 
 quently swept away by the ravages of that pestilence 
 which took its rise amid the retreat from Russia, and 
 the crowded garrisons of the campaign of 1813,. and 
 for several years afterward desolated in succession 
 every country in Europe. 
 
 And even when we have summed up and laid before 
 us, in all the magnitude of figures, the appalling 
 destruction of life here exhibited, we can still gather 
 only a taint and remote conception of the sufferings 
 and evils inflicted by this awful scourge. Death in 
 the field is among the smallest of the miseries of war : 
 the burned villages — the devastated harvests — the 
 ruined commerce — the towns carried by assault — the 
 feeble and the lovely massacred and outraged — grief, 
 despair and desolation carried into innumerable fami- 
 lies, — these are among the more terrific visitations of 
 military conflicts, and the blackest of the crimes for 
 
92 RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS. 
 
 whicn a fearful retribution will one day be exacted at 
 the hands of those who have provoked, originated, or 
 compelled them. 
 
 If any thing could awaken the statesmen of our age 
 to a just estimate of war and the warrior, surely their 
 deeds and the consequences of these deeds should do 
 so, when exhibited on a scale of such tremendous mag- 
 nitude. Yet, so far, the impression made seems to have 
 been both feeble and imperfect. Our views with re- 
 gard to war are still in singular discordance both with 
 our reason and our religion. They appear to be rather 
 the result of a brute instinct, than of obedience to the 
 dictates of a sound sense or of a pure faith. On all 
 other points, Christianity is the acknowledged founda- 
 tion of our theory of morals, however widely we may 
 swerve from it in practice ; but in the case of war we 
 do not pretend to keep up even the shadow of alle- 
 giance to the authority of our nominal lawgiver. "A 
 state of war, (says Eobert Hall,) is nothing less than a 
 temporary repeal of all the principles of virtue. The 
 morality of peaceful times is directly opposite to the 
 maxims of war. The fundamental rule of the first is 
 to do good ; of the latter to inflict injuries. The 
 former commands us to succor the oppressed; the latter 
 to overwhelm the defenseless. The rules of morality 
 will not suffer us to promote the dearest interests by 
 falsehood ; the maxims of war applaud it when 
 employed for the destruction of others." 
 
 How happens it that our notions on the subject of 
 war are so widely different from what we have a right 
 to suppose they would be among a Christian people ! 
 from what they would be, if Christianity had had 
 
THE PASSION FOE WAS. 93 
 
 any share in their formation? "We think the singu- 
 lar discrepancy may be traced to two sources. In the 
 first place, the whole tone of feeling among educated 
 minds — and through them among other classes — has 
 become thoroughly perverted and demoralized by the 
 turn which is given to their early studies. The first 
 books to which the attention of our youth is sedulously 
 and exclusively directed, are those of the ancient au- 
 thors ; the first poet they are taught to relish and ad- 
 mire is Homer ; the first histories put into their hands, 
 (and with which through life they are commonly more 
 conversant than with any other,) are those of Greece 
 and Rome ; the first biographies with which they be- 
 come familiar are those of the heroes and warriors of 
 the wild times of old. Now, in those days the staple 
 occupation of life — at once its business and its pas- 
 time — was war. War was almost the sole profession of 
 the rich and great, and became, in consequence, almost 
 the sole theme of poets and historians. It is, therefore, 
 the subject most constantly presented, and presented in 
 the most glowing colors, to the mind of the young stu- 
 dent, at the precise period when his mind is most sus- 
 ceptible and most tenacious of new impressions ; the 
 exciting scenes of warfare fill him with deeper interest 
 than any other, and the intellectual and moral quali- 
 ties of the warrior — quick foresight, rapid combina- 
 tion, iron resolve, stern severity, impetuous courage — 
 become the objects of his warmest admiration ; he for- 
 gets the peaceful virtues of charity and forbearance, or 
 learns to despise them ; he sees not the obscurer but 
 the loftier merits of the philanthropist and the man of 
 science ; he comes to look upon war as the noblest of 
 
94 KEST0EATI0N OF THE BOURBONS. 
 
 professions, and upon the warrior as the proudest of 
 human characters ; and the impression thus early made 
 withstands all the subsequent efforts of reflection and 
 religion to dislodge it. It is difficult to overestimate 
 the mischief wrought by this early misdirection of our 
 studies ; and that the impression produced is such as 
 we have represented it, every one will aeknowledge on 
 a consideration of his own feelings. 
 
 The other source of our erroneous sentiments with, 
 regard to war, may be found in the faulty and mis- 
 chievous mode in which history has been generally 
 written. In the first place, little except war has been 
 touched upon ; and the notion has been thus left upon 
 the mind, either that nations were occupied in war 
 alone, or that nothing else was worth recording. Those 
 silent but steady labors which have gradually advanced 
 the wealth of a country, and laid the foundation of its 
 prosperity and power ; those toilsome investigations 
 which have pushed forward the boundaries of human 
 knowledge, and illustrated throughout all time the age 
 and the land which gave them birth ; that persevering 
 ingenuity and unbaffled skill which have made science 
 the handmaid of art, and wrought out of her discov- 
 eries the materials of civilization and national pre-emi- 
 nence ; and, greater than all, that profound and patient 
 thought which has eliminated the great principles of 
 social and political well-being ; — concerning all these, 
 history has been almost silent ; and the whole attention, 
 both of the teacher and the student, has been concentra- 
 ted upon "the loud transactions of the outlying world," 
 while the real progress of nations, and the great and 
 
DESOLATION OF WAB. 95 
 
 good men who have contributed thereunto, have alike 
 been consigned to oblivion. 
 
 Again, — historians have seldom given a fall and fair 
 analysis of what war is. They have described the 
 marches, the sieges, the able maneuvers, the ingenious 
 stratagems, the gallant enterprises, the desperate con 
 flicts, the masterly combinations, the acts of heroic 
 daring, with which war abounds ; and they have sum- 
 med up those descriptions of battles which we read 
 with breathless interest, by informing us that the vic- 
 tory was gained with a loss of so many thousands killed 
 and wounded — so many thousands made prisoners — 
 and so many standards and pieces of artillery taken 
 from the enemy. But all this is only the outside color- 
 ing of war, and goes little way toward making us ac- 
 quainted with its real character. Historians rarely tell 
 us of the privations suffered — the diseases engendered — 
 the tortures undergone during a campaign ; still less 
 of the vices ripened, the selfishness confirmed, the 
 hearts hardened, by this " temporary repeal of all the 
 principles of virtue." They do not speak of the ties 
 broken — of the peasants ruined — of the hearths made 
 desolate — of grief never to be comforted — of shame 
 never to be wiped away — of the burden of abiding 
 affliction brought upon many a happy household — of 
 all the nameless atrocities, one of which in peaceful 
 times would make our blood run cold, but which in 
 war are committed daily, by thousands, with impunity. 
 
 When a statesman declares war in consequence of 
 any of the ordinary motives thereto — for the sake of a 
 rich colony which he is desirous to obtain ; to prevent 
 
96 BESTOBATION OF THE BOUEBONS. 
 
 an ambitious neighbor from acquiring what might, 
 render him a formidable rival ; to restore a monarch 
 dethroned by a people wearied of his manifold oppres- 
 sions ; to resent a private wrong, or avenge a diplo- 
 matic insult — his thoughts on the matter seldom travel 
 beyond the issuing of a manifesto, the appointment of 
 a general, the levying of troops, and the imposition 
 of taxes for the maintenance of the contest. He is, 
 therefore, wholly unconscious what in reality he is 
 doing ; — and if a sage were to go to him, as Nathan 
 went to David, and say — " Sir, you have given orders 
 for the commission of murder on a monstrous scale ; 
 you have directed that 50,000 of your subjects shall 
 send as many of their fellow men, wholly unprepared 
 for so awful a change, into a presence where they must 
 answer for their manifold misdeeds ; you have com- 
 manded that 30,000 more shall pass the best years of 
 their life in hopeless imprisonment — shall in fact be 
 punished as the worst of criminals, when they have 
 committed no crime but by your orders ; — you have 
 arranged so that 20,000 more shall lie for days on the 
 bare ground, horribly mutilated, and slowly bleeding 
 to death, and at length only be succored in order to 
 undergo the most painful operations, and then perish* 
 miserably in a hospital ; you have given orders that 
 numbers of innocent and lovely women — as beautiful 
 and delicate as your own daughters — shall undergo 
 the last indignities from the license of a brutal sol- 
 diery ; you have issued a fiat which, if not recalled, 
 will carry mourning into many families, will cut off at 
 a stroke the delight of many eyes, will inflict upon 
 thousands, now virtuous and contented, misery wnich 
 
BEVIEW OF BONAPAKTE'S EEIG1T. 97 
 
 can know no cure, and desolation which in this world 
 can find no alleviation ; " — if such a message as this 
 were conveyed to him — every word of which would 
 be strictly true — would he not disown the ghastly 
 image thus held up to him, and exclaim, " Is thy ser- 
 vant a dog, that he should do this thing ? " And if 
 statesmen could realize all this before they put their 
 hand to the declaration of hostilities, would they not 
 rather thrust it into the flames ? 
 
 "With this digression — if remarks can be so called 
 which so inevitably grow out of the subject we have 
 been considering — we close this hasty notice of the 
 career of Bonaparte. The period over which it ex- 
 tends is, beyond all others, the most thronged with 
 great events — great in themselves, marvelous in the 
 rapidity with which they succeeded each other, and 
 momentous and far-reaching in their consequences. 
 In it the most glorious prospects that ever dawned 
 upon civilized humanity, were quenched in the darkest 
 cloud that ever closed over its destinies. We see the 
 overthrow of an ancient tyranny, intolerable from its 
 intense selfishness, more intolerable still from its very 
 dotage and decrepitude — and the birth, out of its 
 ashes, of a wild and shapeless liberty, at once violent 
 and feeble, stained with the ineradicable vice and 
 weakness of its origin, mischievous and transient. 
 We see the most, prolonged and devastating wars ever 
 waged upon the earth, ended by a fearful and fitting 
 retribution ; and the most magnificent genius of mod- 
 ern times, within the short space of twenty-five years, 
 a famished ensign in an unpaid army, monarch of the 
 most powerful empire which has existed since the days 
 
#8 EESTOBATION OF THE BOXTRBOIirS. 
 
 «f Trajan, and, finally, a forsaken and solitary captive 
 on a barren rock in the remotest pathways of the 
 ocean. In a period thickly strewn with such vicissi- 
 tudes, there is much food for wholesome contempla- 
 tion ; and if the nations and the rulers of our times 
 would study its lessons with the solicitous humility 
 Which their magnitude and their solemnity demand, 
 the earth would become rich in that wisdom which 
 grows out of the grave of folly — strong in that virtue 
 which springs out of the recoil from sin. 
 
 Upward of twenty years of exile had passed over 
 the heads of the expatriated Bourbons, when the reac- 
 tion consequent upon the devouring ambition of Na- 
 poleon, drove him from the throne and replaced them 
 in the vacant chair. 
 
 The following personages composed the royal family: 
 The King, Louis XVIII. ; his brother, the Count d' Ar- 
 tois, (afterward Charles X.) ; the two sons of the latter, 
 the Duke d' Angouleme and the Duke de Berry; and 
 the Duke d' Orleans, (afterward Louis Philippe I.) 
 The princesses were the Duchess d' Angouleme, 
 (daughter of Louis XVI.); the Ducness d' Orleans, 
 mother of Louis Philippe ; the Duchess d' Orleans, 
 wife of Louis Philippe ; and his sister Adelaide. 
 
 Louis XVIII. was born November 15, 1755, and 
 was bordering on his sixtieth year at the time of the 
 restoration. He was brother to Louis XVI. He man- 
 aged his escape from Prance, at the period of the Eev- 
 olution, with much adroitness. His only confidants 
 were his mistress and Count d' Avaray, who made pre- 
 parations for his flight. He mixed with the people, 
 affected a free and unembarrassed air, and returned 
 
ESCAPE OP LOUIS XVIII. 99 
 
 late to his palace. He then retired to his own bed- 
 chamber, was undressed by his valet-de-chambre, who 
 slept in the same room, and whom he distrusted. He 
 went to bed, closed the curtains one side, got out at the 
 other without noise, slipped into a cabinet which com- 
 municated with a lobby of the palace, passed from 
 thence to a lodge, where Count d' Avaray was waiting 
 for him with a disguise ; painted his eyebrows, as- 
 sumed false hair over his own, and placed on his rouud 
 hat a large tri-colored cockade. He then descended 
 into the court of the palace, where a hackney-coach 
 was waiting for him. On the quay he found a travel- 
 ing carriage with post-horses, got into it with his friend, 
 and with English names and passports, passed the bar- 
 riers without suspicion. On arriving at Maubeuge, the 
 last town in France on the Belgian frontier, he bribed 
 the postillion to pass round the town, and tearing the 
 tri-colored cockade off his hat, he abandoned himself 
 to joy on throwing away, at last, this 6ign of his op- 
 pression and of his terror. When they reached Mons, 
 he pressed his deliverer, Count d'Avaray, in his arms, 
 and threw himself on his knees to thank heaven for his 
 Bafety. Then mingling his scenic and literary souve- 
 nirs with his self-congratulations on his escape, with 
 characteristic frivolity, he parodied some verses of an 
 opera, and applied their tragic meaning to the most 
 burlesque accidents of his disguise and journey. Alas ! 
 while he was thus reveling in the isolated joys of his 
 own safety, his wife, of whose fate he was ignorant, was 
 running the same dangers by another route ; and the 
 king, the queen, their children, and his sister, over- 
 taken on the road at Varennes, were going to pay, 
 
100 RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS. 
 
 with their liberty and their lives, for this day which 
 gave to him alone security on a foreign soil. 
 
 During the overwhelming success of Napoleon, he 
 was driven from court to court on the continent, the 
 kings who befriended him being successively compelled 
 to expel him from their dominions. He finally, (1807,) 
 sought an asylum in England, where he remained until 
 the overthrow of Napoleon. 
 
 "When Louis XVI. and his queen Marie Antoinette, 
 were beheaded, their two children, a son and daughter, 
 were retained prisoners, and confined in loathsome 
 dungeons. The lad, (who was called by the royalists, 
 Louis XVII.,) met with a melancholy death. Blows, 
 scanty food, the damps and filth of a dungeon, were 
 inflicted on him. He was even compelled to drink in- 
 toxicating liquors. He had been taught obscene songs, 
 and his innocent hand had even been forced to sign an 
 incestuous deposition against his own mother, the im- 
 pious meaning of which he did not comprehend. "This 
 poor child, (said his sister, who was liberated,) lay wal- 
 lowing in his infected dungeon, amidst filth and rags. 
 It was swept out only once a month. His sense of 
 feeling was obliterated ; he lived like an unclean rep- 
 tile in a common sewer." "It is well known, (said 
 Harmand, a representative in the National Assembly, 
 who visited him,) that Simon, his jailer, played cruel 
 tricks with the sleep of his prisoner. Without any re- 
 gard for an age when sleep is so imperative a want, he 
 repeatedly called him up in the course of the night. 
 ' Here I am, citizen,' would the poor child reply, shiver- 
 ing with cold. 'Come here, and let me touch you,' 
 Simon would exclaim ; then striking or kicking him, 
 
louis xvirr. 101 
 
 would cry out, ' get to bed, you young wo]f.' " From 
 the time when he understood the nature of the crimes 
 he had been made to charge his mother with, he main- 
 tained uniform silence, and died, June 9, 1795, without 
 uttering a word. Upon his death,' his uncle assumed 
 the title of Louis XVIII., although he was, for nearly 
 twenty years afterward, an exile from France. 
 
 The throne of France was finally bestowed upon 
 him, in 1814, by the allied powers, and not- by the 
 choice of the French people. There was, consequently, 
 from the beginning, a feeling of distrust between him 
 and the nation. His measures were illy calculated to 
 conciliate the good will of the people. He seemed re- 
 solved to make use of the victory which the allies, had 
 won for him, to restore the most odious features of the 
 monarchy which the nation had violently discarded a 
 quarter of a century previous. 
 
 The nation wished, 1st. to have its political liberties 
 secured, and the right of being represented by depu- 
 ties, chosen by the people ; 2d. that the personal free- 
 dom of individuals should be secured from prosecu- 
 tions for imaginary crimes, contrary to legal forms ; 
 3d. the equality of citizens in the eye of the law, and 
 the right of all to obtain any civil or military dignity, 
 by merit and talents ; 4th. the abolition of feudal ser- 
 vice ; 5th. the right, in criminal accusations, to be 
 judged by a jury ; 6th. the independence of the judi- 
 ciary from every other power in the state ; 7th. the 
 right of levying taxes by their representatives, and all 
 classes in proportion to their property ; 8th. the right 
 of every individual to exercise any means of gaining a 
 living which did not interfere with the rights of other 
 
102 EESTOEATIOBT OF THE BOTJBBONS. 
 
 citizens ; 9th. the freedom of speec"h and of tne press, 
 or the right of every one to communicate his thoughts 
 to his fellow citizens, in public meetings or through the 
 press; and 10th. the right of every one to perform di- 
 vine worship in his own way, without molestation. 
 
 So entirely was the spirit of Louis XVIII.'s govern- 
 ment at variance with that of the nation, that many 
 individuals, who had at first welcomed the return of 
 the royal family, became convinced that the Bourbons 
 and France were no longer fit for each other. Al- 
 though Louis XVIII. possessed much natural sagacity, 
 he had, during his long exile, become enfeebled by age 
 and disease ; he did not understand the change which 
 had been wrought in the character of the people of 
 France. It was said to him, with equal justice and 
 severity, that during his exile " he had forgotten noth- 
 ing and learned nothing." He carried on against the 
 constitution he had granted the people, a series of petty 
 thefts and paltry invasions, and left to his successor a 
 government whose origin was odious and whose ad- 
 ministration was regarded with hatred. Innocent in- 
 dividuals, charged with political crimes, were often 
 kept in close confinement for years, before being set 
 at liberty. In the prisons, condemned criminals were 
 confined with those who were merely confined for 
 trial — the worst of criminals were mingled with men 
 detained only for political offenses. It was also a 
 source of discontent, which existed until the final ban- 
 ishment of the Bourbons, that the nation was not per- 
 mitted to choose a single magistrate. All officers were 
 appointed by the government, and the councils of the 
 departments into which the kingdom was divided, 
 
CLAIMANTS FOE THE CROWN. 103 
 
 professedly declared the wishes of the people, al- 
 though wholly unauthorized, so that their voices were 
 often opposed to the opinion of the majority in the 
 departments. The national guard was not permitted 
 to elect its own officers, and was a mere instrument 
 in the hands of the king. 
 
 Until the death of Louis XVHL, the government was 
 almost constantly engaged in the suppression of local 
 insurrection caused by the disaffection of the people. 
 Probably the existence of Napoleon, on a rock far 
 away in the ocean, saved the throne of Louis XVIH. 
 from overthrow. "While Napoleon lived, all other 
 pretensions besides his were impossible ; when he 
 died, pretenders rushed thick upon the field of con- 
 spiracy. There was a party for Napoleon II., a party 
 for Joseph Bonaparte, and another for Prince Eugene. 
 The latter was so much in earnest that Lafayette was 
 offered the sum of a million of dollars, to cover the 
 first cost of a Revolution in favor of the brother of 
 Queen Hortense. This Lafayette neither declined nor 
 accepted, but he was supposed to favor the pretensions 
 of Joseph Bonaparte. Louis XVIII. never felt him- 
 self secure on the throne, and was more than once on 
 the point of flying from the country. He died Sep- 
 tember 16, 1824. " Had he lived a little longer," said 
 the late J. Fenimore Cooper, in a letter from Paris, 
 written in 1825, " he would most probably have been 
 dethroned before this ; the hopes and the expectations, 
 which usually accompany a new reign, having, mos^ 
 probably, deferred the crisis for a few years." The 
 crisis did come, lbur years after Mr. Cooper wrote 
 the above, and the successor of Louis XVLLL. was 
 
104 BESTOKATION OF THE BOUKBONS. 
 
 dethroned. The king, although he could not learn 
 •wisdom from his fears, always retained a lively remem- 
 brance of the night when, about a year after his first 
 restoration, a courier knocked suddenly at the gate of the 
 Tuileries. His knock was that of a man who brought 
 bad news : he was told that the king slept, but his an- 
 swer was that he must immediately be awakened ; for 
 there had been seen on the road a little man in a small 
 hat, dressed in a gray coat, with his hands crossed be- 
 hind him, who arrived on foot and alone, with his 
 sword in its scabbard, again to take the constitutional 
 throne of France from its legitimate kings. Thus said 
 the courier, and he would take no reward for the intel- 
 ligence ; he chose it should be an act of charity to the 
 house of Bourbon. Louis XVJII. was obliged to quit 
 the palace, as speedily as if it had been on fire. He 
 did not even stop to have the sheets taken from his 
 bed, or to secure his prescriptions from his room. On 
 the other hand, the Emperor arrived so quickly, that he 
 found the room in disorder, the physic scattered, and 
 chicken-bones half picked, under the bed. The last 
 incident was told by a person who entered the Em- 
 peror's bedroom just as he was surveying it. " Look, 
 (said he,) as if it were not enough to make a kitchen of 
 my bedroom, they have made a dog-kennel of it." 
 For this visit to that "dog-kennel" the Emperor was 
 hurled into the abyss of Waterloo. 
 
 It is reported that Louis XVIII., while sitting on the 
 feuteuil en which he was about to expire, surrounded 
 by high personages in tears, and his face overspread 
 with the ghastliness of hastening dissolution, called to 
 his side the youngest and weakliest prince of his 
 
CHARLES X. 105 
 
 family, and laying his hand on the child's head, as it 
 bent to receive his blessing, said, "Let my brother 
 be careful of the crown of this child." Not long after, 
 the priDces and several grand officers were assembled 
 in another part of the palace, and seemed as though in 
 expectancy of some momentous event. Suddenly a 
 door of the apartment was thrown open, and a voice 
 cried out, — "The King, sirs." It was Charles X. that 
 entered. Louis XVIII. had just expired. 
 
 Charles X., the youngest brother of Louis XVI. and 
 Louis XVIII., was born October 9, 1757, and was con- 
 sequently sixty-seven years of age when he ascended 
 the throne. In his youth he had been the idol of his 
 family, of the court and of Paris. His handsome per- 
 son, his gracefulness, the thoughtlessness of his char- 
 acter, even the frivolity of his mind, won him the 
 affections of the aristocracy. He affected to look upon 
 the coming Revolution as one of those transient 
 commotions of the lower orders, which should be sup- 
 pressed and not discussed. None of those ideas which 
 then filled the rest of the world had ever entered into 
 his head; for those ideas pre-supposed intelligence, and 
 he never reflected. Spoiled by the court; flattered by 
 a circle of the young aristocracy, as frivolous and 
 unreflecting as himself; held forth to the army and 
 nobility as the prince who would shortly rally them 
 around the standard of absolute monarchy, and who 
 was to dissipate, with the point of the sword, all the 
 liberal dreams of the nation — this prince was blind to 
 the Revolution. The men of the Revolution regarded 
 him with contempt or indifference ; they did not fear 
 
 him enough to hate him. Yet he was the first to 
 5* 
 
106 RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS. 
 
 escape from the impending ruin. Among his vices, a 
 passion for the fair sex was predominant. Although 
 married, he had an amour with the Countess de Polas- 
 tron, who abandoned her husband and followed him to 
 foreign lands. Consoled and intoxicated by the charms 
 and the tenderness of this accomplished woman, he had 
 renounced, in his passion and fidelity for her, all the 
 trifling liaisons which his personal beauty had formed 
 around him in his youth. He only lived in future for 
 Madame Polastron, who was for him the model of liv- 
 ing tenderness. A decline, aggravated by the humid 
 climate of England, seized on Madame Polastron, and 
 she beheld death slowly approaching her, in all the 
 freshness of her charms, and all the delights of a mu- 
 tual flame. Religion, however, (as many French wo- 
 men understand it,) consoled her, and she wished to 
 impart its consolation and its immortality to her lover, 
 He became a convert, at the voice of that love which 
 had so often and so delightfully dissipated his serious 
 thoughts. One of his almoners, who has since become 
 Cardinal Latil, received, even in the chamber of the 
 repentant beauty, the confession and the remorse of the 
 two lovers. " Swear to me, (said Madame de Polas- 
 tron to the young prince,) that I shall be your last fault 
 and your last love upon earth, and that after me you 
 will love only the object of whom I cannot be jealous — 
 God himself." The prince took the oath with his heart 
 and his lips, and Madame Polastron, thus consoled, 
 carried with her last embrace his oath to the grave. 
 From this day he was an altered man. But that prob- 
 ity of heart which he found in love, and that piety 
 which he drew from death, only changed the nature of 
 
COKOiTATION OF OHAELES X. 107 
 
 his weaknesses. His new virtues had from that day, 
 for him, the effect of his ancient faults. They con- 
 tracted his understanding without elevating his cour- 
 age. They delivered him over entirely to ecclesiastical 
 influences, which piously took advantage of his con- 
 science, as others had done of his levities. 
 
 Charles X. was admirably adapted for the task he 
 proposed to himself, upon ascending the throne. No 
 one in a shorter time, by any possible maneuvering, 
 could so effectually have ruined his own fortunes and 
 those of all who belonged to him. September 27, 1824, 
 he made his first public entry into Paris, on horseback, 
 and in the month of May following, he was crowned at 
 Rheims, where many ancient customs, and some ridic- 
 ulous usages, were revived. For instance, the vial con- 
 taining the holy oil, (which was said to have been 
 brought, in former ages, by a dove from heaven,) was 
 again restored. Power was scarcely in his grasp, be- 
 fore threats were held out to those who should dare to 
 question the royal will, or oppose the king's govern- 
 ment. Charles X. hoped to establish an absolute 
 despotism among the people of France. After more 
 than a quarter of a century of bloodshed, revolution, 
 anarchy, civil and foreign warfare, this was the result 
 of the great lesson. Humanity sighs as it contemplates 
 the incapacity of dunces in a school where the dullest 
 may find instruction if they will. The people, natur- 
 ally enough, refused to be coerced into a love of his 
 majesty's government, and his majesty, with character- 
 istic obstinacy, declared his resolution " to be unalter- 
 able." France had positively to do its work over 
 again from the beginning ! 
 
108 RESTOBATION OF THE BOUEBON8. 
 
 The royal family were extremely unpopular. The 
 utmost indifference, if not actual aversion, was mani- 
 fested when they appeared in public. The following 
 account of their appearance at the races, near Paris, in 
 1826, is from the pen of an eye-witness, and gives a 
 graphic illustration of the public opinion. "During 
 the heats, accompanied by a young American friend, I 
 had strolled among" the royal equipages, in order to 
 examine their magnificence, and returning toward the 
 course, we came out unexpectedly at a little open 
 space, immediately at one end of the pavilion, in 
 which the royal family was seated. There were not a 
 dozen people near us^ and one of these was a sturdy 
 Englishman, evidently a tradesman, who betrayed a 
 keen and a truly national desire to get a look at the 
 king. The head of a little girl was just visible above 
 the side of the pavilion, and my companion, who, by a 
 singular accident, not long before, had been thrown into 
 company with les enfans de France,* (as the royal 
 children are called,) informed me that it was Mademoi- 
 selle d' Artois, the sister of the heir presumptive. He 
 had given me a favorable account of the children, 
 whom he represented as both lively and intelligent, and 
 I changed my position a little, to get a better look of 
 the face of this little personage, who was not twenty 
 feet from the spot where we stood. My movement at- 
 tracted her attention, and, after looking down a moment 
 into the small area in which we were inclosed, she 
 disappeared. Presently a lady looked over the balus- 
 trade, and our Englishman seemed to be on tenter- 
 hooks. Some thirty or forty French gathered round us 
 * Children of France. 
 
UNPOPULAKITY OF THE EOTAL FAMILY. 109 
 
 immediately, and I presume it was thought none but 
 loyal subjects could manifest so much desire to gaze 
 at the family, especially as one or two of the French 
 clapped the little princess, whose head now appeared 
 and disappeared again, as if she were earnestly press- 
 ing something on the attention of those within the 
 pavilion. In a moment, the form of a pale and sickly- 
 looking boy was seen, the little girl, who was a year or 
 two older, keeping her place at his side. The boy was 
 raised on the knee of a melancholy-looking and rather 
 hard-featured female of fifty, who removed his straw 
 hat, in order to salute us. 'There are the Dauphine* 
 and the Due de Bordeaux,' whispered my companion, 
 who knew the person of the former by sight. The 
 Dauphine looked anxiously, and I thought mournfully, 
 at the little cluster we formed directly before her, as if 
 waiting to observe in what manner her nephew would 
 be received. Of course my friend and myself, who were 
 in the foreground, stood uncovered ; as gentlemen we 
 could not do less, nor as foreign gentlemen could we 
 very well do more. Not a Frenchman, however, even 
 touched his hat! On the other hand, the Englishman 
 straddled his legs, gave a wide sweep with his beaver, 
 and uttered as hearty a hurrah as if he had been cheer- 
 ing a member of Parliament who gave gin in his beer. 
 The effect of this single, unaccompanied, unanswered 
 cheer, was both ludicrous and painful. The poor fel- 
 low himself seemed startled at hearing his own voice 
 amid so profound a stillness, and checking his zeal as 
 unexpectedly as he had commenced its exhibition, be 
 looked furiously around him, and walked surlily away. 
 
 * Wife of the heir apparent 
 
110 RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS. 
 
 The Danphine followed him with her eyes. There 
 was no mistaking his gaitered limbs, dogged mien, and 
 florid countenance ; he clearly was not French, and 
 those that were, as clearly turned his enthusiasm into 
 ridicule. I felt sorry for her, as with a saddened face, 
 she set down the boy, and withdrew her own head 
 within the covering of the pavilion. The little Mad- 
 emoiselle d' Artois kept her bright looks, in a sort of 
 wonder, on us, until the circumspection of those around 
 her gave her a hint to disappear. This was the first 
 direct and near view I got of the true state of popular 
 feeling in Paris, toward the reigning family. Accord- 
 ing to the journals in the interest of the court, enthusi- 
 asm was invariably exhibited whenever any of their 
 princes appeared in public." 
 
 The affairs of France were fast hastening to a crisis. 
 Charles X., in 1829, appointed Prince Polignac to the 
 head of the administration, a man known to entertain 
 the most arbitrary purposes. Prince Polignac was 
 supposed to be an illegitimate son of Charles X., by a 
 lady of the court of his brother, Louis XVI. The king 
 had long desired to make him prime minister, despite 
 the views of the people. Never had a ministry in 
 any country to encounter such a storm of virulence 
 and invective, as that which assailed the cabinet of 
 Prince Polignac. Charles more than shared the odium 
 thrown on his obnoxious favorite; his patronage of the 
 Jesuits and monastic orders, his revival of austere and 
 rigid etiquette in his court, and his marked dislike of 
 those who had acquired eminence in the Revolution, or 
 under Napoleon, were circumstances which rendered 
 him unpopular with the great bulk of the natian so 
 
WAB' IN ALGIEKS. Ill 
 
 long estranged from the Bourbons and their policy. 
 Polignac defied the storm ; but unfortunately, as the 
 contest continued, he departed from the course of 
 caution and prudence, probably because injustice had 
 driven him into anger, and he soon furnished his 
 adversaries with just grounds for continued hostility. 
 When the chambers assembled, the royal speech was a 
 direct attack on the first principles of the constitution, 
 concluding with a threat of resuming the concessions 
 made by the charter, which was notoriously impotent, 
 and therefore supremely ridiculous. A very uncourtly 
 reply was voted by the chamber of deputies, after a 
 very animated debate, by a majority of forty. The 
 only alternative now left was a dissolution of the 
 chambers, or a change of the ministry ; Charles X. 
 chose the former, trusting that events might turn the 
 popular current, and give him a more manageable 
 chamber at a new election. 
 
 Charles and his minister appear to have hoped that 
 their unpopularity would be overcome, and their fu- 
 ture projects facilitated, by gratifying the taste of the 
 French people for military glory. An armament was 
 therefore prepared with extraordinary care, and sent 
 against Algiers, under the pretext that the dey had in- 
 sulted the honor of France. The success of the ex- 
 pedition corresponded with the .exertions made to 
 insure it ; the city of Algiers was taken after a very 
 slight resistance, the dey was sent prisoner to Italy, 
 and his vast treasures remained at the disposal of the 
 conquerors. It was reasonable that the maritime pow- 
 ers should feel jealous at the establishment of French 
 garrisons and colonies in northern Africa; to allay 
 
112 EESTOEATION OF THE BOtTEBONS. 
 
 their suspicions, a promise was made that the occupa 
 tion of Algiers should he merely temporary ; hut the 
 French nation formed such an infatuated attachment 
 to their conquest, that they have kept it ever since, 
 though it costs an annual waste of life and treasure, 
 without conferring any appreciable advantage either 
 on Africa or on France. Polignac, relying on the 
 moral effect which the conquest of Algiers would 
 produce, dissolved the chambers, but with the same 
 infatuation which seems to have directed all his move- 
 ments, he at the same time dismissed the only two 
 moderate members of his cabinet, and supplied their 
 places by the most unpopular men in France. Such a 
 course, as ought to have been foreseen, more than 
 counterbalanced any benefit which the ministers might 
 have gained from the conquest of Algiers ; the elec- 
 tions left them in a miserable minority, and matters 
 were brought to a crisis. The majority of the com- 
 mercial classes and landed proprietors in France 
 dreaded the renewal of civil commotions ; they knew 
 that there was an active republican party in the coun- 
 try, which, though not very numerous, was very ener- 
 getic; they feared, and not without reason, that the 
 triumph of this party would terminate in another revo- 
 lutionary struggle. But at the same time, these classes 
 were equally hostile to the restoration of the ancient 
 despotism, which they believed to be the object of the 
 king and his ministers. Had Charles X. declared that 
 he would be contented with the prerogatives of a con- 
 stitutional monarch, dismissed his obnoxious minis- 
 ters, and formed a cabinet of moderate men, the crisis 
 would have passed over without danger ; unfortunately, 
 
FREEDOM OF THE PEKSS ABOLISHED. 113 
 
 more arbitrary councils prevailed ; Polignac and his 
 colleagues resolved to terminate the struggle by sub- 
 verting the constitution. 
 
 Charles X. was a gentlemanly and good-natured old 
 man, but obstinate and in his dotage. Seeing and 
 fearing the head-way which liberal opinions were mak- 
 ing in France, he had the folly to appoint a ministry, 
 each individual of which was a known opponent of 
 liberal principles, and especially obnoxious to the 
 French people. The public press immediately opened 
 upon this ministry- the most harassing and merciless 
 warfare. Charles, annoyed and irritated by the loud 
 and continued demonstrations of the public hatred, 
 with a degree of insanity to which we can hardly find 
 a parallel even in the folly of princes, determined to 
 abolish the freedom of the press| and silence these 
 voices of the nation. On Monday morning, (July 26, 
 1830,) the Moniteur, the government paper, appeared 
 with an ordinance declaring, among other obnoxious 
 articles, that at all times the periodical press had been, 
 and it was its nature to be, only an instrument of dis- 
 order and sedition. It therefore declared that the free- 
 dom of the press was no longer to be permitted, but 
 that it was placed under the censorship of the govern- 
 ment. Upon the appearance of this execrable ordi- 
 nance, excitement and indignation flamed like a con- 
 flagration through every lane and alley of the city. 
 Thousands began to assemble around the reading- 
 rooms. The great thoroughfares leading to the public 
 squares of the city, to the garden of the Tuileries, and 
 the Palais Royal, were thronged with the roused mas- 
 ses, crowding to these centres of intelligence. Readers, 
 
114 RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS. 
 
 mounted upon barrels and chairs, loudly read the 
 government ordinance to the gathering multitude. 
 
 As the police endeavored to arrest a man who was 
 reading the new laws to the excited crowd, he indig- 
 nantly replied, " I am only blowing the trumpet ; if 
 you dislike the notes, go settle the matter with those 
 who composed the music." During the day, the ap- 
 pearance of serious popular commotion became more 
 and more threatening. As the shades of night dark- 
 ened the streets of the inflamed city, cries of " Live 
 the Constitution!" "Down with the Bourbons!" 
 " Death to the ministry ! " resounded through the 
 gloom. As the mounted troops of the king were driv- 
 ing the gathering people from one of the streets, the 
 populace seized upon a passing omnibus, overturned it, 
 and, throwing around it such articles of heavy furni- 
 ture as could be .gathered from the adjoining dwellings, 
 formed a barricade which effectually arrested the pro- 
 gress of the troops. Behind this barricade they val- 
 iantly defended themselves with paving stones and 
 every missile within their reach. Instantaneously, 
 every mind saw the efficacy of this measure. The 
 lamps lighting the city were dashed, and the populace 
 toiled the livelong night in the mystery of darkness*, 
 making arrangements for the conflict of the morrow. 
 Crowds of students from the military schools thronged 
 the streets, filling the midnight air with the Marseilles 
 Hymn, those spirit-stirring words," which, in the old 
 Revolution, so often roused the multitude to frenzy. 
 
 On the morning of the 27th, few of the journals ap- 
 peared, for the publication of those which were not 
 sanctioned by the minister of the interior was prohibited 
 
THE EIOT BECOMES A EEVOLTJTION. 115 
 
 by the police. The proprietors of two journals printed 
 their papers in defiance of the ordinance, and the first 
 disturbance was occasioned by the police forcing an en- 
 trance into their establishments, breaking the presses, 
 scattering the types, and rendering the machinery un- 
 serviceable. So little was an insurrection anticipated, 
 that Charles, accompanied by the dauphin, went on a 
 hunting match to Rambouillet ; and his ministers neg- 
 lected the ordinary precaution of strengthening the 
 garrison of the capital. 
 
 Between six and seven o'clock in the evening, some 
 detachments of troops were sent to the aid of the 
 police ; this was the signal for commencing the con- 
 test ; several smart skirmishes took place between the 
 citizens and the soldiers, in which the latter were gen- 
 erally successful, so that Marmont, the military gover- 
 nor of Paris, wrote a letter to the king, congratulating 
 him on the suppression of the riot, while the minis- 
 ters issued their last ordinance, declaring Paris in a 
 state of siege. "When night closed in, the citizens 
 destroyed every lamp in the city, thus securing the 
 protection of darkness for their preparation to renew 
 the struggle. 
 
 On the morning of the 28th, Marmont was aston- 
 ished to find that the riots which he had deemed 
 suppressed, had assumed the formidable aspect of a 
 revolution. The citizens were ready and organized for 
 a decisive contest ; they were in possession of the arse- 
 nal and the powder magazine ; they had procured 
 arms from the shops of the gunsmiths and the police 
 stations ; they erected barricades across the principal 
 streets, and had selected leaders competent to direct 
 
5.16 BESTOBATION OF THE BOURBONS. 
 
 Ifheir exertions. Under these circumstances, the mar- 
 shal hesitated before taking any decisive step ; it was 
 noon before he had resolved how to act, and he then 
 determined to clear the streets by military force. He 
 divided his troops into four columns, which he directed 
 to move in different directions, thus unwisely separat- 
 ing his forces, so that they could not act in concert. 
 Every step taken by the columns was marked by a 
 series of murderous conflicts ; they were assailed with 
 musketry from the barricades, from the windows and 
 tops of houses, from the corners of streets, and from 
 the narrow alleys and passages which abound in Paris. 
 When the cavalry attempted to charge, they were 
 overwhelmed with stones and articles of furniture 
 flung from the houses ; their horses stumbled in the 
 unpaved streets, or were checked by the barricades, 
 while the citizens, protected by their dwellings, kept up 
 a heavy fire, which the disheartened horsemen were 
 unable to return. Though the royal guards performed 
 their duty, the troops of the line showed great reluc- 
 tance to fire on the citizens, and hence the insurgents 
 were enabled to seize many important points with little 
 or no opposition. "When evening closed, the troops 
 had been defeated in every direction ; they returned 
 to their barracks, weary, hungry, and dispirited ; by 
 some inexplicable blunder, no provision was made for 
 their refreshment, while every family in Paris vied in 
 supplying the insurgents with every thing they wanted. 
 Marmont was now fully sensible of the perils of his 
 situation ; he wrote to the infatuated king, represent- 
 ing the dangerous condition of Paris, and soliciting 
 fresh instructions; the orders he received in reply, 
 
THE EXILED BONAPAETBS. 117 
 
 urged him to persevere. The contest was renewed oii 
 the morning of the third day, the soldiers evincing 
 great feebleness, while the populace seemed animated 
 by a certainty of success. "While the issue was yet 
 doubtful, two regiments of the line went over to the 
 insurgents in a body ; the citizens, thus strengthened, 
 rushed through the gap which this defection left in the 
 royal line, took the Louvre by assault, and soon com- 
 pelled the troops that remained faithful to the roykl 
 cause, either to lay down their arms or evacuate Paris. 
 The Revolution was speedily completed by the instafc 
 lation of a provisional government ; measures were 
 adopted for the speedy convocation of the chambers^ 
 and in a few hours the capital had nearly assumed its' 
 ordinary aspect of tranquillity. 
 
 Charles and his ministers appear to have believed 
 that the country would not follow the example of 
 Paris. They were speedily convinced of their error ; 
 the king was abandoned, not only by his courtiers, 
 but even by his household servants ; he was forced to 
 remain helpless in his country-seat, until he was 
 dismissed to contemptuous exile by the national 
 commissioners. 
 
 The crash at "Waterloo had scattered the Bonapartes 
 about the world as exiles. During the reckless and 
 treacherous sway of Louis XV HI., and the foolhardy 
 reign of Charles X., the liberty, if not the UveB of the 
 Bonapartes, and also the wreck of their estates, de- 
 pended on their absolute quietude. Among them, 
 Queen Hortense left the splendors to which she was 
 accustomed, and with her two sons retired to Switzer- 
 land. Escorted by an Austrian officer, the queen 
 
118 EESTORATION OF THE BOUKBONS. 
 
 arrived at the eastern frontier. "I quitted, (said she,) 
 the territory of France, from which the allied powers 
 expelled me, in haste, weak woman as I am, with my 
 two sons ; so much was I feared by them, that from 
 post to post the enemies' troops were under arms, as it 
 was said, to protect my safe passage." It was thus 
 that the young princes whose birth was welcomed by 
 the thunder of cannon, and who had grown up under 
 the shadow of the greatest throne in the world, saw all 
 the magnificence of royalty depart from them. With 
 their youth, their country, their family, and their fu- 
 ture hopes, all seemed to disappear at once, and give 
 place to exile and the bitter trials of the world into 
 which they were entering by the gate of misfortune. 
 Augsburg, and afterward a house on the shores of the 
 Lake Constance, was the asylum to which Queen 
 Horte'nse retired. In this retreat she devoted herself 
 wholly to the education of her sons. Prince Louis 
 Napoleon was admitted into the camp at Thun, in the 
 canton of Berne, which the Swiss assembled every 
 year for the instruction and practice of engineer and 
 artillery officers, under the direction of Napoleon's 
 skillful officers. This instruction consisted not merely 
 in communicating information on the science, but in 
 actual maneuvers and expeditions among the glaciers, 
 in which the young prince, with his knapsack on his 
 back, took part, partaking of the bread of the common 
 soldier, and with his pick and compass in his hand. 
 " My son," says Queen Hortense, in one of her letters, 
 "is still with. the pupils at Thun, engaged in making 
 military reconaisscmces in the mountains. They go 
 on foot ten or twelve leagues a day, and by night 
 
LOUIS NAPOLEON. 119 
 
 Bleep under a tent at the foot of the glaciers." Re- 
 ceiving such a mixed general and military education 
 as was supposed to be suitable for young men in their 
 circumstances, the two sons of Queen Hortense at- 
 tained the age of early manhood. Naturally a rest- 
 less, hair-brained character, no member of the dis- 
 persed Bonaparte family seems to have retained in 
 exile such a concentrated amount of the Emperor's 
 spirit as young Louis Napoleon. From his earliest 
 years he seems to have realized his position as a Bo- 
 naparte, and always entertained a conviction that he 
 would ultimately occupy a position in Europe commen- 
 surate with the dignity of his birth. Even before the 
 death of the Emperor's son, (who, with the title of Duke 
 of Eeichstadt, was a virtual prisoner in Austria,) or of 
 his own elder brother, Louis Napoleon was altogether 
 their superior in every thing that concerned the active 
 assertion of the family claims ; and after their death, 
 precedence was converted into a sense of actual right. 
 By the terms of the decree concerning the succession, 
 he then assumed the first place in the second genera- 
 tion of Bonapartes — the lawful heir after his uncle 
 Joseph and his father Louis, to all that could be re- 
 covered of the imperial fortunes. He became the de- 
 clared imitator and executor of his uncle — the ac- 
 knowledged) chief of the young Napoleonic! se. Yet, 
 in many respects, he seemed little fitted for this post 
 of honor. In person, he was the least like the Em- 
 peror of all the surviving Bonapartes ; the Beauhar- 
 nais features of his mother predominating in his 
 heavy, somber countenance, over whatever of the 
 
120 EESTOEATION OF THE BOTJKBONS. 
 
 Napoleonic he may have derived from his father. But 
 his courage, self-confidence, and audacity, with a sol- 
 dierly good-nature and kindly susceptibility, rendered 
 him quite popular among the people of the free valleys 
 of Switzerland, his adopted country. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE REIGW OF LOUIS PHILIPPE 
 
 The last of the memorable " three days " of July, 
 1830, dawned upon Paris. The night before, prince 
 Polignac had been congratulated on having defeated 
 the insurgents. Charles X. felt so secure that he spent 
 a part of the evening playing whist. "The Parisians, 
 (said he,) are in a state of anarchy ; anarchy will ne- 
 cessarily bring them to my feet." But on the morning 
 of "Wednesday, the 30th, the streets were filled with 
 people. Instead of the unarmed mobs, which had fled 
 before the dragoons the preceding day, there now ap- 
 peared throngs of well-armed citizens, marshaled here 
 and there in military array under active leaders, 
 either veteran generals of the old revolutionary armies, 
 or enthusiastic students from the military schools. 
 From the venerable towers of Ndtre Dame the tri-col- 
 ored flag of the Revolution was seen floating in the 
 breeze. The tri-colored cockade, the pledge of resist- 
 ance unto death, was upon every hat. The melan- 
 choly peal of the alarm-bells and the martial drum 
 collected the populace in innumerable rendezvous for 
 war. Anxiety and stern defiance sat on every coun- 
 tenance. Paris was a camp — a battle-field. The king 
 had in Paris and its immediate vicinity, eighteen thou- 
 sand troops, veterans in war. To meet these in deadly 
 6 
 
122 THE EEIGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 conflict was no child's play. As soon as the morning 
 light was spread over the city, the sound of the 
 trumpet and martial drum was heard, as the regiments 
 of the king, in solid phalanx, marched from their head- 
 quarters at the Tuileries, with infantry, and artillery, 
 and cavalry, to sweep the streets of the insurgent city. 
 Then ensued scenes of murderous . strife, such as have 
 seldom been exceeded in any conflict. The demon of 
 war rioted in every street of the city. Heavy can- 
 non mowed down the opposing multitude with ball 
 and grape-shot. Bomb-shells demolished the houses 
 which afforded a covert to the assailing people. Well- 
 mounted troops, armed to the teeth, drove their bullets 
 into every eye that peeped from a window, and into 
 every hand that appeared from a turret. 
 
 It is not easy to imagine the havoc that must be 
 produced by the balla from heavy artillery bounding 
 over the pavements of a crowded city, and tearing 
 their destructive way through parlors and chambers, 
 where affrighted mothers and babes were clustered 
 together. One lady had retired in terror to her cham- 
 ber and her bed, when a cannon-ball pierced the 
 house, passed through the bed and through her body, 
 and, scattering her mangled remains over the room, 
 continued unimpeded on its way of destruction and 
 carnage. 
 
 A female, as she observed the awful slaughter which 
 one of the king's cannon produced as it mowed down 
 the crowds in the streets, rushed to the cannon, pressed 
 her bosom to its mouth, and, clasping it with her arms, 
 entreated the officer in command to desist. The sol- 
 diers endeavored to pull her away. But with frantic 
 
THE PEOPLE. 123 
 
 strength she clung to the gun, declaring that, if they 
 would continue their slaughter, they should fire through 
 her body. The officer commanded the torch to be ap- 
 plied. The gunner shrank from the horrible deed. 
 " Fire ! " shouted the officer, " or I will thrust my sword 
 through your body." The torch was applied, and 
 instantly the remains of this heroic woman were 
 scattered in fragments through the air. 
 
 The tumult was increasing. The conflict became 
 more bloody and determined. The streets were every- 
 where obstructed by barricades, and from the roofs 
 and windows of the houses, a shower of tiles, paving 
 stones, broken bottles, and even articles of furniture 
 rained on the heads of the unfortunate soldiery. Mar- 
 mont, who had been appointed to the command of the 
 troops, by Charles X., was in a painful situation — his 
 duty as a soldier required of him what was contrary to 
 his inclination as a man. To a deputation of citizens 
 who waited on him, he expressed his determination to 
 execute his orders. He said that the only way to stop 
 the effusion of blood was for the people of Paris to re- 
 turn to obedience. The deputation replied that there 
 could be no peace while Charles X. adhered to his 
 tyrannical views — no obedience to a king who tram- 
 pled on the rights of the people. Marmont sent a 
 message to the king, informing him of the interview 
 with the deputation, and of the state of affairs. The 
 king was at St. Cloud, a short distance from Paris, en- 
 gaged in the chase. The only reply he made to the 
 messenger from Marmont was, a command to fight on. 
 The infatuated monarch and his court seemed to have 
 no idea of the magnitude of the danger, and although 
 
124 THE BEIGN OF LOUIS FHILLIPPE. 
 
 they could hear the cannon roaring in the streets of 
 Paris, and knew that the people were in deadly con- 
 flict with the soldiery, Charles X. sat down composedly 
 to a game of whist. 
 
 All was confusion in Paris. It was not known ill 
 one quarter what was doing in another; there was 
 nobody to direct the insurrection ; no union, no au- 
 thority. It was a moment of anarchy ; for the royal 
 power was resisted, and no new one had yet arisen. 
 But it is the nature of society to struggle for order 
 even in the midst of discord. Some persons announced 
 in a placard, which was posted in several parts of the 
 city, that a provisional government had been formed, 
 at the head of which was General Lafayette. The 
 falsehood was soon discovered ; but it helped to sus- 
 tain the courage of the combatants : it showed what 
 people were thinking about. 
 
 The falsehood of one day became a verity on the 
 next. On the 31st of July, a proclamation was ad- 
 dressed to the Parisians, which began with this decla- 
 ration — "Inhabitants of Paris! Charles X. has ceased 
 to reign!" It announced the formation of a provi- 
 sional government. Neither Lafayette nor the persons 
 temporarily intrusted with authority, were prepared to 
 proclaim a republic They were uncertain what course 
 to pursue. While they hesitated, Charles X. might 
 take advantage of the circumstance and regain his 
 authority. Affairs were in a critical state. It was 
 finally determined to invite the Duke of Orleans to 
 the head of the nation, with the title of Lieutenant 
 General. A deputation was sent to him for that pur- 
 pose. He hesitated, or appeared to hesitate. He asked 
 
EXILE OF OHARI.KS X. 125 
 
 for a brief period to deliberate, and sent to consult 
 Talleyrand, whose answer was — "Let him accept," 
 and the duke accepted. A proclamation was imme- 
 diately published in the name of the Duke of Orleans, 
 in which he announced to the Parisians, that having 
 complied with the wishes of the representatives of the 
 people, in accepting power, his first act would be to 
 assemble the chambers to consult about the means of 
 securing the observance of law and the maintenance 
 of the rights of the nation. The deputies immediately 
 issued a proclamation to the French people, announ- 
 cing that France was free! that absolute power had 
 endeavored to raise its standard, but that the heroic 
 population of Paris had dashed it to the ground. 
 
 In the mean time Charles X. was on his way to 
 exile. On the 30th of July, it was known at St. Cloud 
 that the king's authority no longer existed, and the 
 people who were about him dropped off rapidly, and 
 he was left almost alone. He left St. Cloud at the 
 head of a few followers, and started toward the sea- 
 coast ; but he lingered on the way, hoping to hear that 
 his grandson, in whose favor he wrote a formal act of 
 abdication, would be accepted as king of France. It 
 was two weeks before he left the soil of France. Mo 
 one showed him any personal disrespect, but he could 
 not but perceive that his expulsion from the kingdom 
 gave almost universal satisfaction. 
 
 In determining the character of the new govern- 
 ment, all looked to the venerable Lafayette. He pos- 
 sessed immense influence, and his advice was decisive. 
 He feared that France was not prepared to become a 
 republic. He believed that a monarchy was necessary 
 
126 THE REIGN OF LOOTS PHILLIPPB. 
 
 to protect the country from anarchy. He considered 
 the elevation of the Duke of Orleans to the vacant 
 throne, with the concession of important rights to the 
 people, to be the surest guarantee of the public safety. 
 " France needs a throne surrounded by republican in- 
 stitutions," said he. Accordingly the Duke of Orleans 
 was, on the 9th of August, invited to become King of 
 the French. He gave his acceptance in these terms : 
 "I have read with great attention the declaration of 
 the Chamber of Deputies and the act of adhesion of 
 the Chamber of Peers. I have weighed and medi- 
 tated every expression therein. I accept, without re- ' 
 striction or reservation, the clauses and engagements 
 contained in that declaration, and the title of the King 
 of the French which it confers on me, and am ready 
 to make oath to observe the same." He then rose, took 
 off his glove, uncovered his head, and pronounced the 
 following oath: "In the presence of God, I swear 
 faithfully to observe the constitutional charter, with 
 the modifications get forth in the declaration ; to gov- 
 ern only by the laws ; to cause good and exact justice 
 to be administered to every one according to his right; 
 and to act in every thing with the sole view to the 
 interest, the welfare, and the glory of the French na- 
 tion." He then appeared on the balcony before the 
 masses of the people, accompanied by Lafayette, into 
 whose arms he threw himself " as into the arms of the 
 nation personified." The veteran of revolutions, point- 
 ing to the new king, exclaimed — "This is the prince 
 whom we wanted : it is the best of republics ! " And 
 so the Duke of Orleans ascended the throne as Louis 
 Philippe I., King of the French. 
 
LOUIS PHILIPPE. 127 
 
 Louis Philippe of Orleans, Duke of Valois at his 
 birth, Duke of Chartres on the death of his grand- 
 father, (1785,) Duke of Orleans on the death of his 
 father, (1794,) and King of the French in 1830, was born 
 October 6, 1773. He was one of five children. His 
 brothers were the Duke of Montpensier, born in 1775, 
 and the Count of Beaujolais, born in 1779 ; his sisters 
 were Marie Caroline, who died in infancy, and Eu- 
 genie Adelaide, her twin sister. His father was Louis 
 Philippe Joseph, Duke of Orleans, better known under 
 his revolutionary title of Philip Egalit6. The Orleans 
 branch of the Bourbon family, originated in a younger 
 son of Louis XIII., created Duke of Orleans by his 
 older brother Louis XVI., and of whom Louis Philippe 
 was the grandson's grgat-grandson. 
 
 "Whatever were the personal and political faults of 
 citizen Egalit6, he was a kind father, and beloved by 
 his children. Desirous of imparting to his family a 
 sound education, in which he himself had had the 
 misfortune to be deficient, he committed them to the 
 superintendence of his mistress, Madame de Sillery — 
 better known by her later acquired title of Countess de 
 Genlis. Notwithstanding the errors of this lady, she 
 was eminently qualified, by her talents and disposi- 
 tions, to be an instructress of youth. She appears to 
 have endeavored to make up for her own misconduct 
 by a scrupulous regard to the manners and morals of 
 her pupils. The principles on which she based her 
 plans of education were considerably in advance of the 
 age, and such as are only now beginning to be gener- 
 ally understood. She considered that it was of the 
 first importance to surround children, almost from 
 
128 THE REIGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 their cradle, with happy and cheering influences, to the 
 exclusion of every thing likely to contaminate their 
 minds or feelings. It was necessary, above all things, 
 to implant in them a universal spirit of love — a love 
 of God and his works, the consciousness that all was 
 from the hand of an Almighty Creator and Preserver 
 who willed the happiness of his creatures. To excite 
 this feeling in her young charge, she took every oppor- 
 tunity of arousing the sentiment of wonder with respect 
 to natural phenomena, and then of explaining the 
 seeming marvels on principles which an awakening 
 intelligence could be led to comprehend. The other 
 means adopted to form the character of her young 
 pupils — the Duke of Valois, Duke of Montpensier, 
 the. Count Beaujolais, and their sister the Princess 
 Adelaide — were equally to be admired. While re- 
 ceiving instructions in different branches of polite 
 learning, and in the Christian doctrines and graces, 
 from properly qualified tutors, they learned,' without 
 labor or pain, to speak English, German and Italian, 
 by being attended by domestics who respectively con- 
 versed in these languages. Nor was their physical 
 education neglected. The boys were trained to endure 
 all kinds of bodily fatigue, and taught a variety of 
 useful and amusing industrial exercises. At St. Leu, 
 a pleasant country residence near Paris, where the. 
 family resided under the charge of Madame de Genlis, 
 the young princes cultivated a small garden under the 
 direction of a German gardener, while they were in- 
 structed in botany and the practice of medicine by a 
 medical gentleman, who was the companion of their 
 rambles. They had also ateliers, or workshops, in 
 
YOUTH OF LOUIS PHILIPPE. 129 
 
 which they were taught turning, basket-making, weav- 
 ing, and carpentry. The young Duke of Valois took 
 pleasure in these pursuits — as what boy would not, 
 under proper direction, and if allowed scope for his 
 ingenuity ? He excelled in cabinet-making ; and, as-; 
 sisted only by his brother, the Duke of Montpensier, 
 made a handsome cupboard, and a table with drawers, 
 for a poor woman in the village of St. Leu. 
 
 Louis Philippe passed from the hands of his senti- 
 mental, but by no means incompetent or unskillful 
 tutor, to step at once into the thorny path of active 
 life. At an early age he entered the army, and in 
 1785, inherited the colonelcy of the regiment of cav- 
 alry which bore his name. In 1791 he commanded the 
 fortress of Valenciennes. His attention to military 
 duty had acquired for him the respect of his superiors, 
 and was held up as a pattern to the service. His 
 ability to say exactly what the occasion required, and 
 which, while king of the French, so distinguished him, 
 was early developed. When he heard that the right 
 of primogeniture had been abolished, he turned to his 
 younger brother, the Duke of Montpensier, and em- 
 bracing him, exclaimed — " Ah ! now we are brothers 
 in every respect." When an old officer went to Val- 
 enciennes, to pay his respects to the new commandant, 
 $he veteran exclaimed — " Ah ! Monsieur, I have never 
 before had the pleasure of seeing 60 young a general 
 officer ; how have you contrived to be made a general 
 so soon ? " Louis Philippe replied — " By being a son 
 of him who made a colonel of you." The veteran 
 laughed, shook hands, and they became friends at once. 
 
 While Louis Philippe, now Duke of Chartres, was in 
 6* 
 
130 THE BEIGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 arms against the armies which menaced the tottering 
 fabric of the French monarchy, the Revolution was 
 hastening to its crisis. Monarchy being extinguished, 
 and the king and his family placed in confinement, a 
 decree of banishment was hastily passed against all 
 other members of the Bourbon race. The Duke of 
 Chartres earnestly besought his father to take advan- 
 tage of the decree of banishment, and with his family 
 seek a retreat in a foreign country. " Tou will assur- 
 edly, (said he, addressing the Duke of Orleans,) find 
 yourself in an appalling situation. Louis XVI. is 
 about to be accused before an assembly of which you 
 are a member. You must sit before the king as his 
 judge. Reject the ungracious duty, withdraw with 
 your family to America, and seek a calm retreat far 
 from the enemies of France, and there await the return 
 of happier days." To these persuasives the Duke of 
 Orleans lent a deaf ear ; he either considered it to be 
 inconsistent with his honor and his* duty to desert his 
 post at the approach of danger ; or, what is as prob- 
 able, he expected that by a turn of affairs he might be 
 elevated to the first place of the nation, whatever 
 should be its form of government. Nevertheless, 
 moved by the entreaties of his son, Orleans desired 
 him to consult an influential member of the Assembly 
 on the subject, and let him know the result. The 
 deputy, however, declined to express his opinion. "I 
 am incompetent," said he, " to give your father any 
 advice. Our positions are dissimilar. I myself seek 
 redress for personal injuries ; your father, the Duke of 
 Orleans, ought to obey the dictates of his conscience as 
 a prince — of his duties as a citizen." The undecided 
 
EXECUTION OF LOUIS PHILIPPE'S FATHER. 131 
 
 answer neither influenced the judgment of the Duke of 
 Orleans, nor corroborated the arguments of his son. 
 Impressed to the fullest extent with the duties of a citi- 
 zen, he felt that he could not honorably recede ; and 
 that a man, whatever his rank might be, who inten- 
 tionally abandoned his country, was deserving of the 
 penalties reserved for traitors. Perceiving that his 
 father made his determination a point of honor — a 
 case of political conscientiousness — he desisted from 
 further solicitation, embraced him for the last time, 
 and returned to the army. 
 
 Events now rapidly followed each other. On the 
 21st of January, 1793, Louis XVI. was carried to the 
 6caffold, and a few months thereafter, the Duke of Or- 
 leans was seized on the charge of conspiring against the 
 nation. On the 6th of November, he was brought be- 
 fore the revolutionary tribunal, and, after a mock trial, 
 condemned to death on a series of charges, of all which 
 he was notoriously guiltless. Viewing the proceedings 
 of his judges with contempt, he begged, as an only fa- 
 vor, that the sentence might be executed without delay. 
 The indulgence was granted, and he was led, at four 
 o'clock, when the daylight was about failing, from the 
 court to the guillotine. The courage of this intrepid 
 man faltered not at the place of execution. When the 
 executioner took off his coat, he calmly observed to the 
 assistants who were going to draw off his boots, " It is 
 only loss of time ; you will remove them more easily 
 from the lifeless limbs." In a few minutes he was no 
 more. 
 
 Seven months previous to the death of his father, the 
 Duke of Chartres, along with his friend General 
 
132 THE REIGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 Dumouriez, became assured that the cause of moderation 
 was lost, and looked with apprehension on the Eeign 
 of Terror which had already begun to manifest itself. 
 There was little time for deliberation as to their course. 
 Being summoned to appear before the Committee of 
 Public Safety, and knowing that citations of this nature 
 were for the most part equivalent to condemnation, 
 both instantly fled toward the French frontier. The 
 fugitives were hotly pursued, but were fortunate in 
 making their escape into the Belgian Netherlands, at 
 that time belonging to Austria. 
 
 The next six or seven years of his life was a period 
 of great hardship and obscurity. Hated by the royal- 
 ists for refusing to serve with the Austrians, and for 
 his father's conduct during the '.Revolution, he was re- 
 lentlessly pursued by the republican government; in 
 addition to which, he was suffering from narrow 
 means. Traveling incognito through the Low Coun- 
 tries, he joined his sister in Switzerland, and pro- 
 ceeded to Zurich. Having been recognized, the party 
 were obliged to quit the city, on account of the fears 
 of magistrates and the excitement of the emigrants. 
 The exiles next took up their abode in a small house 
 near Zug ; but the duke was once more identified by 
 some emigrants passing through the town, and the 
 authorities of Berne compelled his removal. His sister 
 procured admission into a convent; the duke took 
 leave of the few friends who had hitherto accom- 
 panied his fortunes, sold his horses to raise money, 
 and, attended by a faithful servant who refused to 
 leave him, traversed Switzerland on foot, knapsack on 
 back. Master and servant reached the celebrated 
 
LOUIS rniLIPPE A TEACHEB. 133 
 
 monastery of St. Gothard, tired and footsore; the 
 Prince rang the bell, and craved refreshment. " There 
 is no admittance here for travelers on foot," was the 
 reply ; "certainly not for men of your appearance. 
 Yonder is the house for you," and the monk pointed 
 with his finger to a shed in which some muleteers 
 were eating cheese, and slammed the door in the 
 Prince's face. At Gordona, on another occasion, du- 
 ring a hitter night, Louis Philippe presented himself 
 at a farm-house, without luggage, and in somewhat 
 damaged attire. He asked hospitality, and, after 
 much demurring, he was allowed to have a bed of 
 straw in a barn. The future king slept soundly until 
 the break of day, when he awoke to find a young man 
 armed with a gun pacing the floor as sentinel. The 
 appearance of the traveler had excited suspicion in 
 the house, and orders had been given to shoot him if 
 he attempted mischief. 
 
 It was while pursuing this somewhat ignoble course 
 of life, that a plan was suggested to the young duke 
 which promised immediate if not lasting relief from 
 his great embarrassment. A gentleman named Cha- 
 bot-Latour had been invited from Paris to take a pro- 
 fessorship in the college of Keichenau. M. Chabot- 
 Latour failed to keep his engagement, and, by the' 
 contrivance of the Prince's friends, it was arranged 
 that the Duke of Chartres should appear in the name 
 and plaeo. of the absent candidate. The Prince ac- 
 cordingly presented himself for examination, and was 
 unanimously elected, after receiving great commenda- 
 tion for the ability and knowledge he had evinced 
 throughout the ordeal. He was then twenty-two years 
 
134 THE REIGN OS LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 of age ; his salary was about $275 a-year, a larger sal 
 ary than was usual iu Switzerland ; and for that sum he 
 taught history, geography, mathematics, and the Eng- 
 lish language. For the space of one year during which 
 he held the professorship, none but the director of 
 the institution was aware of the teacher's rank. Louis 
 Philippe was quietly instructing the youth of Rieche- 
 nau, when he received news of his father's melancholy 
 death, and of his own accession to an empty, blood- 
 stained title. He threw up his appointment at once, 
 and in June, 1794, retired to Bremgarten. He carried 
 along with him an honorable testimony of the services 
 he had rendered to the academy, and was justly proud 
 of the document when he afterward sat upon the throne 
 of France, reputed the wisest monarch of his time. 
 
 Melancholy, and weary of his fate, the exile pined to 
 quit Europe, and in a new world " to forget the great- 
 ness and the sufferings which had been the compan- 
 ions of his youth." But he was literally without a far- 
 thing. A friend wrote on his behalf to Robert Morris, 
 who had been embassador to France from the United 
 States. He had been acquainted with Egalite, and was 
 then at Hamburgh, about to return to his native 
 country. Mr. Morris answered the application with 
 promptitude and kindness. He offered the Prince a 
 free passage to America, his services when the exile 
 should arrive there, and, at the same time, he trans- 
 mitted an order for $500 to defray the expenses of 
 the journey to Hamburgh. The Prince accepted 
 Mr. Morris's friendship in the spirit in which it was 
 offered. " I am quite disposed to labor in order to 
 make myself independent," he wrote to his benefactor: 
 
LOUIS PHILIPPE TBAVELTNG ON FOOT. 135 
 
 "I scarcely entered upon life when the greatest misfor- 
 tunes assailed me ; but, thank God, they have not dis- 
 couraged me. I feel a great happiness in my re- 
 verses that my youth has not given me time to attach 
 myself too much to my position, or to contract habits 
 of life difficult to be broken, and that I have been de- 
 prived of my fortune before I was able to abuse or 
 even use it." It was well and royally said. But how 
 much clearer the intellectual vision of the youth than 
 the maturer eyesight of the man ! On the 10th of 
 March, 1795, Louis Philippe quitted Bremgarten and 
 reached Hamburgh at the end of the month. 
 
 At Hamburgh the Prince missed his friend, who 
 was then employed upon a diplomatic mission in Ger- 
 many. Some months must elapse before Mr. Morris 
 could return to Hamburgh, and the young adventurer 
 resolved to employ the interval in exploring Northern 
 Europe. The undertaking half a century ago was 
 associated with difficulties unknown to the traveler of 
 to-day. He visited the duchies of Holstein and Schles- 
 wig, the island of Zealand, Copenhagen, and Elsinore, 
 and in every place exhibited an honest zeal for infor- 
 mation, that put suspicion to sleep. From Denmark he 
 crossed to Sweden, and thence passed into Norway, 
 making excursions, that were remembered long after- 
 ward, to the iron and copper mines of that country. 
 The northward journey did not end even here. The 
 traveler was not content until he had seen the wonders 
 of the Maelstrom, and had advanced 6ome degrees 
 beyond the Arctic Circle. Returning southward, the 
 Prince traversed on foot the desert which separates 
 the Northern Ocean from the river Tornea. Fifteen 
 
336 THK BEIGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 days were occupied in the journey, during which time 
 no other nourishment could be procured than the milk 
 and flesh of the reindeer. It must be acknowledged 
 that Louis Philippe was now turning the misfortunes 
 of his family to the most profitable account. By 
 bringing himself into contact with every variety of 
 life, and adding the treasures of personal observation 
 to the stores of learning with which his mind was 
 fraught, he was preparing himself for that course of 
 events which afterward gave him a powerful influence 
 over the destinies of his country and of Europe. The 
 bold and rugged scenery of these arctic regions, and 
 the simple and unpretending kindness of the inhab- 
 itants, must have produced a vivid impression upon a 
 young man of his rank and previous pursuits, sent 
 forth under such circumstances to commence his novi- 
 tiate in the world. Picking up knowledge, and enlarg- 
 ing the range of his acquirements at every step, the 
 youth returned to Fredericstadt, in Holstein, at which 
 town he received the gratifying intelligence that the 
 executive directory of France were prepared to grant 
 liberty to his brothers, who had been kept close pris- 
 oners since their father's death, upon condition that the 
 Duke of Orleans with them would consent to banish- 
 ment from Europe. The consent was given as soon as 
 asked, and on the 24th of October, 1796, Louis Phil-' 
 ippe landed in Philadelphia ; it was not until the 7th 
 of February following, that, after a cruel and protracted 
 absence, the brothers met in the same city, and found 
 in their restoration to one another, some consolation for 
 the sufferings long endured by all. Among their first 
 visits was one to Gen. "Washington at Mount Vernon, 
 
LOUIS PHILIPPE TS AMERICA. 137 
 
 who proposed for the exiled princes an itinerary jour- 
 ney to the western country, and furnished them with 
 some letters of introduction for persons upon the route. 
 They made the necessary preparations for a long tour, 
 which they performed on horseback, each of them, 
 carrying in a pair of saddle-bags, after the fashion of 
 that period, whatever he might require in clothes or 
 other articles for his personal comfort. The traveling- 
 map of the three princes is still preserved, and fur- 
 nishes convincing proof that it has passed through 
 severe service. The various routes followed by the 
 travelers are strongly depicted in red ink ; and by their 
 extent and direction they show the great enterprise 
 displayed by three young strangers to acquire a just 
 knowledge of the country, at a time when the difficul- 
 ties of traveling over a great part of the route were 
 enough to discourage many a hardy American. Louis 
 Philippe, in afterward showing this map to an 
 American gentleman, mentioned that he possessed an 
 accurate account, showing the expenditure of every 
 dollar he disbursed in the United States! It is an 
 example of business habits worthy of all praise and 
 imitation. This attention to the important concern of 
 personal expenditure was one of the characteristic 
 features of Washington ; and both of these celebrated 
 men were, no doubt, penetrated with the conviction 
 that exactitude is essential to success. 
 
 At the period in which the journey oi the princes 
 was performed, the back settlements of the United 
 States were in a comparatively rude condition, and 
 could not be traversed without undergoing many hard- 
 ships. From Washington they went to Nashville, 
 
138 THE EEIGN OF LOUIS PHTLLIEPC 
 
 Louisville, "Wheeling, Pittsburg and Niagara Falls.- 
 At Bairdstown the party were detained by the illness 
 of Duke Beaujolais. Forty years afterward, when 
 Louis Philippe was king of France, he sent to Bairds- 
 town a handsome clock as a memorial of the kindness 
 with which he was entertained there. In their journey 
 from Erie to Buffalo, they met a band of Seneca In- 
 dians, to whom they were indebted for a night's hospi- 
 tality. The chief assured the travelers that he would 
 be personally responsible ' for every article they might 
 intrust to his care ; but that he would not answer for 
 his people unless this precaution was used. Accord- 
 ingly, every thing was deposited with the chief — sad- 
 dles, bridles, blankets, clothes and money ; all which 
 being faithfully produced in the morning, the day's 
 journey was commenced. But the party had not pro- 
 ceeded far upon the route, when they missed a favorite 
 dog, which they had not supposed to be included in 
 the list of contraband articles requiring a deposit in 
 this aboriginal custom-house, and had therefore left it 
 at liberty. He was a singularly beautiful animal, and 
 having been the companion in imprisonment of the 
 two younger brothers, at the castle of St. Jean, they 
 were much attached to him. The Duke immediately 
 returned to seek and reclaim the dog ; and the chief, 
 without the slightest embarrassment, said to him, in 
 answer to his representations, — "If you had intrusted 
 the dog to me last night, he would have been ready for 
 you this morning ; but we will find him." And he im- 
 mediately went to a kind of closet, shut in by a board, 
 and on removing this, the faithful animal leaped out 
 upon his masters. 
 
LOUIS PHILIPPE IN LOVE. 139 
 
 Scarcely resting at Buffalo, they crossed to Fort Erie 
 on the British side, and then repaired to the Falls of 
 Niagara. This grand natural object, as may be sup- 
 posed, engaged the careful examination of the princes, 
 and one of them, the Duke of Montpensier, who ex- 
 celled in drawing, made a sketch of the cataract for 
 his sister. The party then proceeded to Canandaigua, 
 through a country almost in a state of nature. Con- 
 tinuing their route to Geneva, they procured a boat, 
 and embarked upon the Seneca Lake, which they 
 ascended to its head ; and from thence they made their 
 way to Tioga Point, upon the Susquehannah — each 
 of the travelers carrying his baggage, for the last 
 twenty-five miles, upon his back. From Tioga the 
 party proceeded to "Wilkesbarre, and thence they 
 crossed the country to Philadelphia. When in that 
 city, Louis Philippe became enamored of a Miss "W — , 
 and solicited her father's permission to pay her his 
 addresses, who is said to have replied, in substance : 
 "As a penniless exile, you are no match for my daugh- 
 ter ; and as a prince of the blood royal of France, you 
 are far too great a one." It is a curious coincidence 
 that the Princess of Naples, whom Louis Philippe 
 married some years after he left America, very strongly 
 resembled Miss W — . Many years after, when king 
 of France, he distinguished by his attentions two 
 young gentlemen of the W — family, who visited Paris 
 in their travels, recalling his own sojourn in Philadel- 
 phia when a homeless stranger. During the residence 
 of the Duke of Orleans and his brothers at Phila- 
 delphia, in 1797, the city was visited by that fatal epi- 
 demic, yellow fever, but from which the unfortunate 
 
140 THE REIGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 princes found it impossible to fly, on account of a 
 lack of funds. , From this unpleasant and perilous 
 dilemma they were happily relieved in the course of 
 September, by a remittance from their mother. "With 
 a purse thus opportunely reinforced, they now under- 
 took another journey, which this time led them to the 
 eastern part of the United States, finally arriving in 
 New York. Here the brothers learned that a new law 
 had just decreed the expulsion of all the members of 
 the Bourbon family yet remaining in France from that 
 Country; and that their mother had been deported. to 
 Spain. Their object was now to join her ; but owing 
 to their peculiar circumstances, and to the war between 
 England and Spain, this object was not easily attained. 
 To avoid the French cruisers upon the coast, they de- 
 termined to repair to JSTew Orleans, and there to find a 
 conveyance for Havana, whence they thought they 
 could reach the mother country. They set out, 
 therefore, for Pittsburg in December, 1797. 
 
 At Carlisle, Louis Philippe was thrown from his 
 wagon and considerably injured. In early life, as we 
 have seen, he had learned to perform the operation of 
 bleeding. Immediately perceiving that his situation 
 required depletion, and making his way, as he best 
 could, to the tavern, he requested permission of the 
 landlord to perform the operation in his house, and to 
 be furnished with linen and water. The family was 
 kind, and supplied him with every thing he required ; 
 and he soon relieved himself by losing a quantity of 
 blood. The circumstance, however, had attracted 
 general attention, in consequence of the accident to the 
 wagon, and of the injury to the traveler, and still 
 
LOUIS PHILIPPE KETURNS TO EUBOPE. 141 
 
 more from the extraordinary occurrence of self-bleed- 
 ing ; and a large crowd had collected in the tavern to 
 watch the result of the operation. It is probable the 
 curious spectators thought he was a Yankee doctor, 
 going to the west to establish himself. Satisfied 
 with the surgical ability which the stranger had just 
 displayed, they proposed to him to remain at Carlisle, 
 and to commence there his professional career, promis- 
 ing to employ him, and assuring him that his prospect 
 of success would be much more favorable than in the 
 regions beyond the mountains. 
 
 When our party reached Pittsburg, they found the 
 Monongahela frozen, but the Alleghany open. They 
 purchased a keel-boat, then lying in the ice, and with 
 much labor and difficulty transported it to the point 
 where the two rivers met and formed the Ohio. There 
 the party embarked on that river, which they de- 
 scended along with three persons to aid them^Dij^he 
 navigation, and arrived at New Orleans in February, 
 1798. 
 
 From Jfew Orleans they embarked on board an 
 American vessel for Havana. Upon their passage 
 they were boarded by an English frigate under French 
 colors. Until the character of the cruiser was ascew : 
 tained, the three brothers were apprehensive that they 
 might be recognized and conducted to France. How- 
 ever, when it was discovered, on one side, that the 
 visitor was an English ship, and, on the other, that the 
 three young passengers were the princes of the house 
 of Orleans, confidence was restored, and the captain 
 hastened to receive them on board his vessel, where he 
 treated them with distinction and conducted them t» 
 
142 THE REIGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 Havana. The devoted young men reached Cuba, to be 
 immediately expelled from it by the captain-general of 
 the island. Orders had been received to deny them 
 hospitality. In their despair, the princes resolved to 
 seek shelter in a British colony. They proceeded to 
 the Bahamas, thence to Halifax, and finally set sail for 
 England. They reached London in February, 1800. 
 Their destination, however, was Spain, not England. 
 They obtained a passage to Barcelona, and were within 
 hail of that dear mother whom they had traveled so 
 far to comfort with their presence. They were, never- 
 theless, not permitted to land at Barcelona ; and the 
 poor lady was not even told that they had reached the 
 harbor on their affectionate pilgrimage. The princes 
 returned to England, and took up their residence at 
 Twickenham. Here the exiles had at length an oppor- 
 tunity of enjoying some repose in the midst of the 
 best English society. They were treated with the 
 greatest kindness by all classes, from royalty down- 
 ward, and, by their unaffected manners, gained uni- 
 versal esteem. But neither the polite attentions of the 
 English people, nor the splendors of London fashion- 
 able life, could obliterate the recollections of their 
 mother from their hearts. After several years of quiet 
 enjoyment, sorrow again visited Louis Philippe. His 
 brother, the Duke of Montpensier, died (in 1807) of 
 consumption. The funeral was scarcely over before 
 the Count of Beanjolais was attacked with the same 
 disease, and ordered to a warmer climate. Louis Phil- 
 ippe accompanied the invalid to Malta, and reached the 
 island in time to find a final resting place for the young 
 sufferer. The Count of Beaujolais died at Viletta, 
 
MAEBIAGE OF LOTFIS PHILEPPE. 143 
 
 in 1808. Fortunately for Louis Philippe he was not 
 left alone in the world. He had still a sister. After 
 fifteen years' separation, brother and sister had 
 again met. Their meeting was most affecting. They 
 vowed to each other never again to separate, and the 
 vow was sacredly kept. In company they proceeded 
 once more in search of their mother. With difficulty 
 they managed to convey a letter to her, fixing a ren- 
 dezvous at Minorca, and in September, 1809, they 
 landed at that island, to embrace at last the object of 
 their long and anxious search. With her, by invitation 
 of King Ferdinand of Naples, they took up their 
 residence with the royal family at Palermo. After a 
 brief interval, a marriage alliance was formed between 
 Louis Philippe and the second daughter of Ferdinand. 
 (It is curious that before the downfall of the French 
 monarchy, an alliance had been contemplated between 
 the young Duke of Chartres and the daughter of Na- 
 ples, then unborn.) Whatever doubts may arise about 
 the marriages of other potentates, there can be little 
 question that the union between Louis Philippe and 
 the princess Marie Amelie was a love-match. The 
 Duke of Orleans was then an exile, with an income 
 both narrow and precarious, and without the remotest 
 appearance of succeeding even to his patrimonial prop- 
 erty. The king of Naples was shorn of the principal 
 half of his dominions. He was only supported in the 
 other by the power of Great Britain ; upon whose 
 allowance he was indeed living, and whose exertions 
 the folly of the court was doing its best to neutralize. 
 Worldly objects would scarcely be contemplated by 
 either party : looking at their rank, their prospects, 
 
144 THE BETGN OF LOUIS PHILMFPE. 
 
 and the probability of -a, family, the marriage was 
 scarcely a prudent one. However, marriage goes by 
 destiny ; and, notwithstanding some objections and 
 delays by the queen, consent was obtained, and on the 
 25th of November, 1809, the Duke of Orleans and the 
 Princess Marie Amelie were married, in the old Nor- 
 man chapel of the Palazzo Reale. 
 
 Before the marriage was permitted, however, the 
 queen of Naples had employed Louis Philippe on 
 one of her political schemes. When the popular insur- 
 rection against Napoleon took place in Spain, she 
 thought of getting her second son appointed regent 
 of the kingdom ! Apparently proceeding upon " the 
 one down and t'other come up" principle, she dis- 
 patched her son Prince Leopold and Louis Philippe 
 to Gibraltar, that the Spaniards might take one if they 
 rejected the other. The princes were permitted to 
 land ; but Sir Hew Dalrymple refused to forward the 
 project, and Lord Collingwood, who commanded the 
 fleet, pointed out to the Duke of Orleans the insupera- 
 ble public difficulties in the way of the scheme, and 
 the personal impolicy of a French prince in his posi- 
 tion appearing in arms against France. Looking 
 rather to his future mother-in-law than to the reason 
 of the thing, the Duke departed for London to com- 
 plain: but he was informed that the British govern- 
 ment perfectly approved of Sir Hew Dalrymple's 
 conduct, and could only re-impress Lord Collingwood's 
 advice. 
 
 Not content with this intrigue, the Duke on his re- 
 turn engaged in another. The object was to put him 
 at the head of a Catalan army, that, among other 
 
DANTON AND LOUIS PHILIPPE. 14:5 
 
 exploits, was to invade the south of France ; a project 
 that was no sooner detected, than Napoleon, by in- 
 vading Catalonia, gave the Catalan force enough to do 
 at home. Still unconvinced, the Duke of Orleans, in 
 the summer of 1810, again fished in Spanish waters. 
 The regency invited him to a command ; which, not- 
 withstanding the opinion of Wellington, he persisted 
 in accepting ; but the plan was baflled by the veto of 
 Cortes. When the partisans of the Duke of Orleans, 
 after the success of the "three days," announced that 
 he was the only Bourbon who had never borne arms 
 against France, Louis Philippe may have remembered 
 the prudence of the British commander's advice. 
 
 According to a tolerably well authenticated anecdote, 
 Danton, in the early part of the first Eevolution, also 
 advised Louis Philippe to act discreetly. While he 
 was with the army under Dumouriez, he was in the 
 habit of expressing his views with great freedom on 
 public measures. Danton sent for him and urged him 
 to be more prudent. "In the future," said the great 
 leader of the Eevolution, "be silent. Beturn to the 
 army ; do your duty ; but do not unnecessarily expose 
 your life. You have many years before you. France 
 is not fitted for a republic ; it has the habits, the wants, 
 and the weaknesses of a monarchy. After one storm 
 it will be brought back to that by its vices or by its 
 necessities. You will be King! Adieu, young man. 
 Eemember the prediction of Danton ! " 
 
 With the unsuccessful attempt to obtain a command 
 in the Spanish army, the wanderings of him who has 
 been called the modern Ulysses may be said to have ter- 
 minated. In Sicily tranquillity first dawned upon his 
 
146 THE BEIGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 agitated career. It was a season of mild repose — a 
 blsish of light between the storms. His mother, his 
 sister, and his wife were at his side ; children were 
 horn unto him ; public affairs ceased to harass or de- 
 press him ; he sought and found happiness at the fam- 
 ily hearth, where Heaven provides it for the meanest. 
 In the midst of the profound calm there fell a thun- 
 derbolt. Napoleon was beaten; Louis XVIH. was 
 restored to the throne of Franee. Louis Philippe 
 heard the news, and started for Paris that very moment. 
 
 Marvelous vicissitudes of life ! The man who had 
 been refused his bed of straw at a monastery, reached 
 the French metropolis, and, scarcely taking time for 
 refreshment, hurried to the Palais Eoyal to set foot 
 again in his magnificent home. His heart beating 
 high, his soul pierced with a hundred conflicting 
 sensations that expressed themselves in visible tears, the 
 restored heir paced the well-known galleries and vis- 
 ited the well-remembered gardens. The doors of the 
 grand staircase chanced to be opened. The visitor in- 
 voluntarily entered, but Was stopped by a porter still 
 wearing the imperial livery, who said that strangers 
 were "not allowed in the private apartments. Louis 
 Philippe, overcome with emotion, fell upon his knees, 
 and in his bewilderment kissed the lowest step of the 
 staircase. He was recognized, and admitted. 
 
 Louis XVIH. and Charles X. may be said to have 
 represented the dry sticks of Bourbonism ; the sap of 
 the race was gone, the rich blood of Louis Quatorze 
 had ceased to circulate. Whatever was chivalric in 
 the family, whatever heroic, whatever superb, what- 
 soever could engage the admiration and secure the 
 
LOUIS XVin. AND LOUIS PHILIPPE. 147 
 
 pride of a people otherwise aggrieved, had departed 
 forever; whatever was bigoted, oppressive, ignorant, 
 ridiculous, and suicidal, obstinately remained. Louis 
 XVIII. was scarcely on the throne, Louis Philippe 
 hardly housed in the Palais Royal, before intrigues 
 were on foot in reference to the successor to the throne. 
 Intriguers on every side were busy as possible, when the 
 astounding announcement was made that the chained 
 lion at Elba had burst his bonds, and was advancing, 
 with strides such as that lion alone could take, rapidly 
 on Paris. It was enough. Intrigues were postponed 
 for the present. Louis XVHL, SCs quick as lightning, 
 was beyond the frontier. Louis Philippe, accompanied 
 by his family, was again at Twickenham. 
 
 "Waterloo again restored the crown to the Bourbons, 
 but they were not wise enough to retain it. The first 
 proposition made by the House of Peers on behalf of 
 the restored crown, was that all who had taken any 
 part whatever in the successive revolutions of France 
 should be visited with extreme punishment. Louis 
 Philippe was in the chamber of Peers when the im- 
 politic measure was proposed. He protested against 
 it loudly and indignantly, and at his instigation the 
 obnoxious motion was rejected without a division. 
 Louis XVHL, considerably disgusted, forbade- the 
 princes of the blood to appear in the chamber of the 
 Peers unless summoned by special authority. The 
 Duke of Orleans retired into comparative seclusion, 
 and revenged himself upon the court by entering his 
 eldest son as a student in one of the public colleges as 
 a simple citizen. "I perceive," says Louis XVHL in 
 his own memoirs, and with touching imbecility, " that 
 
148 THE EEIGN OF LOUIS PHTLLIPPE. 
 
 although Louis Philippe does not stir, he advances. 
 How must I manage to prevent a man from walking 
 who appears as if he did not take a step? It is a 
 problem which remains for me to solve, and I should 
 be glad not to leave it for solution to my successors." 
 Poor old gentleman! The problem was too difficult 
 both for himself and the brother who succeeded him. 
 
 Retiring to Neuilly, he spent his time in the educa- 
 tion of his children, the cultivation and improvement 
 of his vast estates, and, doubtless, in the careful 
 nurture of a public interest. Knowing the unpopu- 
 larity of Louis XYIII. and his successor, he adroitly 
 availed himself of the preference of public opinion, 
 which turned instinctively toward him. He was re- 
 served in his attitude, a courtier of the king, and, 
 above all, expressed himself only in half sentences, 
 but in his omissions allowing a glimpse to be obtained 
 of a secret disdain for the court, and favorable remi- 
 niscences for all that breathed of the Eevolution. He 
 associated himself even, by a skillful flattery, with the 
 regrets and glories of the army, — choosing his mili- 
 tary household among the young generals of Napoleon. 
 His intimate society was among the writers and 
 orators of liberty. He was irreproachable in appear 
 ance toward the court, and gracious and attractive 
 toward the rising opposition. This opposition seemed 
 to spring up in the very palace of Orleans, where the 
 Eevolution had its birth. At last came the Eevolu- 
 tion of the Barricades (in 1830) and the once homeless 
 and needy wanderer was elevated to the throne of 
 France. 
 
 The new monarchy established in France was ex- 
 
LOFIS PHILIPPE ON THE THBOHE. 149 
 
 posed to the most imminent dangers from the republi- 
 cans on the one hand and the partizans of the exiled 
 family on the other. The republican party was in- 
 finitely the most formidable, because, in the capital, at 
 least, there was a much greater mass to whom its opin- 
 ions and incentives were likely to be agreeable. There 
 was a spirit of extraordinary earnestness in its mem- 
 bers; several attempts were made to assassinate the 
 king ; but all were unsuccessful. 
 
 But there were many elements of discord to be ovei 1 - 
 come before the throne could enjoy tranquillity. The 
 republican party deemed itself betrayed by the elec- 
 tion of a king, and several who had consented to that 
 arrangement were satisfied with the limited extension 
 of popular privileges gained by the Eevolution. A 
 great number of idle, discontented young men were 
 anxious to involve Europe in a war of opinion, and 
 they denounced the king as a traitor to the principles 
 which had placed him on the throne, because he re- 
 fused to grant their insane wishes. The total sepa- 
 ration of the church from the state alienated the 
 French clergy ; while .the royalists, recovered from 
 their first terror, began to entertain hopes of a restora- 
 tion. Thus surrounded by difficulties and dangers, 
 Louis Philippe was far from finding his throne a bed 
 of roses ; but he evinced firmness and talent adequate 
 to the occasion, and he was zealously supported by the 
 middle classes, who looked upon him as their guarantee 
 for constitutional freedom and assured tranquillity. 
 
 An insurrection of the Carlists, as the partisans of 
 the exiled family were called, in the south of France, 
 injured the cause it was designed to serre. It was 
 
150 THE REIGN OF LOTTIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 easily suppressed, but the government learned that the 
 Duchess de Berri, (whose son, the Duke of Bourdeaux, 
 was grandson of Charles X.,) had made arrangements 
 for landingjin La Vendue, and heading the royalists in 
 the province. Such preparations were made, that 
 when the Duchess landed, she found her partisans 
 disheartened, and their movements so closely watched, 
 that it was scarcely possible for them to assemble any 
 force. Still she resolved to persevere ; but the enter- 
 prise degenerated into a series of isolated and insig- 
 nificant attacks, made by small bodies in a strong 
 country, and the proceedings of the royalists, con- 
 sequently, resembled those of the brigands. The 
 Duchess continued five months in the country, though 
 actively pursued by the military and police ; she was 
 at length betrayed by one of her associates, and made 
 prisoner. The government of Louis Philippe treated 
 the royal captive with great clemency. She had not 
 been long in prison when it was discovered that she 
 was about to become a mother, having been privately 
 married some time before her arrest. This unfortunate 
 circumstance threw such an air of ridicule over the 
 entire enterprise, that the royalists abandoned all fur- 
 ther efforts against the government. 
 
 The Revolution of July, 1830, had driven one dy- 
 nasty from the throne of France, and seated another 
 in its place. It had thus prevented a return to the 
 despotic government of the seventeenth century, and 
 preserved the little share of liberty which the Bourbons, 
 on their restoration in 1814, had granted with a reluc- 
 tant and sparing hand, to the French nation. Their 
 overthrow was consequent upon their endeavors to 
 
LOUIS PHILIPPE AGAINST WAR- 151 
 
 deprive the people of the freedom which was then 
 unwillingly yielded to them. 
 
 The government of Louis Philippe gradually ac- 
 quired, by its continued success in keeping down do- 
 mestic factions, and maintaining the friendly relations 
 of France with foreign powers, a high reputation for 
 wisdom and firmness. The peace of Europe was sup- 
 posed to be in the French king's hands ; and men con- 
 gratulated themselves that so vast and important a 
 trust should be grasped by a monarch so able and so 
 averse to war. The resources of France by the mere 
 force of its internal and external tranquillity rapidly 
 developed themselves, and the enterprise of the French, 
 people appeared to be at length directed to other and 
 higher objects than triumphs, ruinous alike to the 
 victor and vanquished, in the fields of strife. What- 
 ever may have been the errors of the reign of Louis, 
 Philippe, and they were many, his efforts,, whether from 
 policy or from principle, to maintain the peace- of Eur 
 rope, entitle him to lasting admiration. His reply to 
 a deputation from Belgium, inviting the Duke of Ke- 
 mours, his second son, to ascend the Belgian throne, 
 was worthy of his reputation. "The thirst of conquest, 
 (said he,) or the honor of seeing a diadem placed on 
 the brow of my son, shall not induce me to expose my 
 country to a repetition of those calamities which war 
 entails ; nor could any advantages France might reap 
 from my acceptance of the honor you propose, compen- 
 sate for those evils. The examples of Louis XIV. and of 
 Napoleon are sufficient to save me from the fatal temp- 
 tation of erecting thrones for my sons ; and I prefer the 
 maintenance of peace to all the brilliancy of victories, 
 
152 THE EEIGN OF LOTUS PHILLtPPE. 
 
 unless, indeed, in a war in which the defense of her 
 standard would call forth the sons of France." 
 
 These Sentiments were still more emphatically ad- 
 vanced by Louis Philippe, in reply to an address for- 
 warded to him by the English and American societies 
 for the preservation of Peace. "I am happy, (said he,) 
 to receive these addresses, and feel particularly grati- 
 fied to find that our American friends should do justice 
 to the pains I have taken to maintain the general peace 
 of Europe. There is no advantage in making war, 
 even when a nation has attained the object for which 
 it has fought, because, ultimately, the losses are always 
 greater than the gains. I have ever professed that 
 principle. When I was in America, forty years ago, I 
 was often asked to propose toasts at public dinners, 
 and I almost invariably expressed the wish that uni- 
 versal and permanent peace should exist among all 
 nations. I was then exiled from my country, and 
 my anxious desire was that it should enjoy peace and 
 happiness. This is what caused me to adopt that salu- 
 tary precept. I could not then foresee that I should 
 be called upon one day to exert my influence and act 
 myself in favor of that great cause. May the Almighty 
 accord me the maintenance of peace. "War appears to 
 me a malediction ; and war in Europe, between civil- 
 ized nations, I regard as an absurdity ; if the smaller 
 states desire it we should prevent them ; and as peace 
 between great powers becomes daily more consolidated, 
 I hope, if I live a few years longer, that a general war 
 in Europe will have become impossible." 
 
 However much we may doubt the full sincerity of 
 Louis Philippe, in these observations, there can be no 
 
THE QUEEN. 153 
 
 doubt the views were admirable ; and they presented 
 a curious reverse to the old spectacle of kings playing 
 at the game of war in spite of their subjects — for while 
 in France there were many restless and discontented 
 persons infatuated with a desire for war, the king him- 
 self was reluctant. That Louis Philippe thought 
 himself better able to accomplish his aim — the per- 
 petuation of his dynasty and the aggrandizement of 
 his family — through the tortuous and noisome ways 
 of diplomacy, than by warfare, is quite certain, and it 
 is equally certain that he relied much upon his reputa- 
 tion, as a friend of peace, for the stability of his throne. 
 Louis Philippe, in the character of a husband and 
 father, merited the highest admiration; and he was 
 particularly fortunate in his family relations. By his 
 side, looking like the guardian angel of his family, 
 was his wife, a modest, amiable, clever woman, who 
 contributed not a little to the popularity of his family. 
 The queen, a daughter of a king, married the Duke of 
 Orleans, when he was a fugitive and an exile. At that 
 time the house of Bourbon had seemingly no prospect 
 of re-ascending the throne of France. It had fallen 
 from too great a height to hope to rise again from- such 
 a depth. The marriage of the Duke of Orleans and 
 his wife was founded wholly upon mutual esteem and 
 affection. The Duchess of Orleans loved her husband, 
 at first because he was unhappy, because he was poor, 
 a wanderer and an exile, exposed even to the re- 
 proaches of those relations among whom he emigrated. 
 She loved him, next, for the fortitude with which he 
 supported his ill-fortune, and his patience. These 
 
 two persons were admirably qualified to be always 
 
 7* 
 
15i THE REIGN OF LOUIS FHTLLIPFE. 
 
 supporting each other a little above their position, what 
 ever that position might be. Once upon the throne, 
 the Duchess of Orleans acted and thought like a queen. 
 She had been consulted by her husband in all the im- 
 portant speculations and affairs of their life — she was 
 equally consulted in the management of political con- 
 cerns. But she was a queen, as she had been the 
 mother of a family, without ostentation. In the bitter- 
 ness of French political dissensions, no whisper of 
 calumny was ever heard against the queen ; and one 
 who could pass triumphantly through such an ordeal 
 had nothing more to dread from human investigation. 
 She was a kind and affectionate mother, a sincere be- 
 liever in the Christian religion, and devout in the per- 
 formance of its duties. Her charity was only bounded 
 by her means to relieve the distressed. 
 
 The king's sister, the Princess Adelaide, formed a 
 part of the royal family, and was said to be one of the 
 most devoted sisters a brother ever possessed. In the 
 qualities of head and heart, all who knew her awarded 
 to her the meed of praise. Religious, charitable, ex- 
 emplary, she was one of those who adorn high places 
 by higher virtues. Madame Adelaide was four years 
 younger than her brother, and had resided with him 
 from the time of his return to Europe, after his exile 
 in America. From that period she was his friend and 
 adviser in all matters of delicacy and difficulty. She 
 was thought to possess a more masculine mind than 
 Louis Philippe himself. It is a well-known fact that 
 Louis XVIII. hated and rather despised the Duke of 
 Orleans, but he somewhat feared Madame Adelaide. 
 The astute monarch was aware of the courage, sagacity, 
 
MAnAMia ADELAIDE. 155 
 
 / 
 
 constancy and steadiness of this remarkable woman. 
 Separated from her counsels, he thought the Duke of 
 Orleans was not dangerous ; but under her influence 
 and guidance, he felt that he had to deal with a name 
 and pretensions which she could render powerful. 
 
 During the last years of the reign of Charles X., no 
 one in France more clearly saw the doom of the elder 
 branch of the Bourbons than Madame Adelaide. 
 When, at length, the Revolution was successful, and 
 the triumph of the "three days" certain and assured, 
 she it was who induced her brother to accept the 
 crown, and while she lived she was his principal ad- 
 viser, and most trusted counselor. Nor was this won- 
 derful. From the period when they were first driven 
 from France, he had perpetually corresponded or been 
 in conference with her, and had always found her 
 judgment sure, and her intelligence and tact unsur- 
 passable in difficult conjunctures. Together they left 
 France, agitated and revolutionized, their father one 
 of the first victims ; together they closed, in Spain, the 
 eyes of a dying mother ; together they mourned, in 
 London and Malta, over the couches of their departed 
 brothers, Montpensier aud Beanjolais ; together they 
 shared, a second time, exile from France; together 
 they returned thither in 1817. And was it, therefore, 
 extraordinary, that a prince of a cold and reserved na- 
 ture should fly to one whom he had so often found 
 true, trustworthy, and full of resources under the most 
 difficult and trying circumstances? Though managing 
 her immense property — for she, with Louis Philippe, 
 possessed between them, all the fortunes of their 
 father — with commendable carefulness and economy, 
 
156 THE EETGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 yet she was by no means so parsimonious as the king, 
 and remonstrated with him frequently on the small 
 allowance made to his children. She relieved them 
 from many embarrassments, and on one occasion paid 
 debts to the amount of $2,000,000 for one of them. 
 She died in 1847. 
 
 Louis Philippe had eight children, six of whom 
 survived him. They were — Ferdinand, Duke of 
 Orleans, born September 3, 1810 ; Louisa Marie, 
 born April 3, 1812 ; Marie Christine, born April 12, 
 1813 ; Louis, Duke of Nemours, born October 25, 
 1814 ; Marie Clementina, born June 3, 1817 ; Francis, 
 Prince of Joinville, born August 14, 1818 ; Henry, 
 Duke of Aumale, born January 16, 1822 ; and Antoine, 
 Duke of Montpensier, born July 31, 1824. 
 
 The Duke of Orleans — who was destined, (according 
 to appearances, which human pride seldom condescends 
 to imagine may be fallacious,) to wear, one day, the 
 most brilliant crown in the world — was remarkably 
 handsome and prepossessing in his appearance. Like 
 all the other children of Louis Philippe, he was thor- 
 oughly educated, and it was to the admirable care of 
 his father that the heir to the throne, as well as his 
 brothers and sisters, formed not only the most intelli- 
 gent but really the most popular royal family in 
 Europe. While the grasping and selfish policy of 
 Louis Philippe gained him many enemies, all- but two 
 or three of his family were favored with the affections 
 of the French people. 
 
 In 1836, the Duke of Orleans, accompanied by his 
 brother, the Duke of Nemours, visited Eastern Europe, 
 in the hope of obtaining a wife from the royal families 
 
A PEINOE IN SEARCH OF A WIFE. 157 
 
 of Russia or Austria. Louis Philippe was eager to 
 secure matrimonial alliances for his children from 
 among the established monarchies of Europe. Thiers, 
 the prime minister, was required to learn the views of 
 those courts, without incurring the humiliation of a di- 
 rect refusal. Had he possessed the moral courage, the 
 elevated soul, which ought particularly to character- 
 ize those who fill so important an ofiice as the one he 
 held, he would have given the royal family the only 
 counsel which ought to have been acted upon — he would 
 have represented to it that to seek alliances with those 
 inimical to the Revolution which elevated it to power, 
 was a gratuitous degradation of itself — that a French- 
 woman, the daughter of some considerable citizen, 
 would be a better guarantee of the nation's support 
 than a princess of foreign and hostile blood — that Na- 
 poleon, after an alliance with the royal family of Aus- 
 tria, in the eyes of the world morally abdicated his 
 throne, for it dispelled the belief that he felt himself 
 superior to the greatest kings, needing to have nothing 
 to do with, nothing in common with, and nothing to 
 borrow from the old European monarchies. From 
 Russia, Louis Philippe was given to understand he 
 had nothing to expect for his son. His thoughts were 
 then directed to an archduchess of Austria, and the 
 Duke of Orleans was sent to Vienna. But the Aus- 
 trian government had not forgotten Maria Antoinette, 
 and Maria Louisa. They were not forgetful of the 
 various attempts that had been made to assassinate 
 Louis Philippe. They thought it quite ont of the ques- 
 tion for an Austrian princess to form an alliance that 
 might lead her to the guillotine, or to be subject to ride 
 
158 THE EEIGN OF LOUJS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 in a carriage, liable, at almost any moment, to be 
 pierced with bullets. The Duke of Orleans returned 
 to Paris, a bachelor. A less haughty alliance was then 
 contemplated. May 30, 1839, he married Helena, a 
 princess of one of the petty German monarchies. The 
 marriage was not a brilliant one ; it had neither the 
 prestige of a high monarchical alliance, nor the heroic 
 significance of a national and popular choice ; but 
 after the insulting refusals of the sovereign families, 
 the Duke of Orleans, perhaps, thought himself lucky 
 in not being refused by an obscure and indigent Ger- 
 man princess. Two sons were born to him — the first 
 on the 24th of August, 1838, created Count of Paris ; 
 the second, born in 1840, was called the Duke of Char- 
 tres. Unfortunately the Duke of Orleans lost his life 
 on the 13th of July, 1842. This much lamented prince 
 was returning from JSeuilly, when the horses of his 
 carriage took fright, and he, in attempting to jump out, 
 was thrown upon his head and killed. He was the 
 most popular of Louis Philippe's sons. The Duke of 
 Nemours, the second son of the king — the proposed 
 regent of France, should Louis Philippe die before the 
 Count of Paris attained his majority — was, perhaps, 
 the least popular of all the royal family. He married a 
 daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Gotha, a cousin of 
 Prince Albert the consort of the Queen of England. 
 The Prince of Joinville married a princess of Brazil ; 
 the Duke of Aumale, a daughter of the Sicilian Prince 
 of Salerno ; Montpensier, the youngest son, married 
 Louisa, the sister of Isabella, Queen of Spain. AH 
 these -marriages were fruitful in progeny, so that should 
 France, ever desire the restoration of the Orleans 
 
THE PRINCESS MARIE. 159 
 
 family, there will be no lack of heirs to avail themselves 
 of the invitation. 
 
 The marriage of the Duke of Montpensier created a 
 tremendous excitement throughout Europe. Isabella, 
 the Queen of Spain, it was feared, would die childless, 
 and in that case leave the throne to Montpensier's wife ; 
 so it was thought to be more than possible that the 
 crowns of France and Spain, as in the case of Castile 
 and Arragbn, would eventually descend upon one 
 brow. Yet all these princely alliances, Louis Philippe 
 afterward found, were less influential in fixing his 
 family upon the throne of France, than would have 
 been the marriage of his sons with the daughters of 
 French citizens. 
 
 Louisa Marie, the eldest daughter of Louis Philippe, 
 was married to Leopold, King of the Belgians. His 
 first wife was the Princess Charlotte, heir apparent 
 to the throne of England, whose early death cast a 
 gloom over the English nation. Marie Christine, the 
 second daughter of Louis Philippe, married Duke 
 Alexander of Wurtemburg. She died of consumption 
 soon after the birth of a son, her only child, who lived 
 thereafter in the family of Louis Philippe. She had 
 much love for the fine arts, and excelled in sculpture. 
 She fitted up a studio in the palace of the Tuileries, in 
 which she spent a great portion of her time with a 
 sculptor's chisel in her hands. Among her statues was 
 one of Joan of Arc, on horseback. The horse is a very 
 fine Norman one, calmly and vigorously placed ; the 
 young warrior, armed cap-a-pie, holds in her hand that 
 terrible sword which she has just used for the first 
 time. The expression of her faee is -remarkable, and 
 
160 THE REIGN OF LOTUS PHTLT.IPFE. 
 
 could only have been conceived by a mind filled with 
 the tenderest and noblest feelings. Joan of Arc, lean- 
 ing from her saddle, is represented as having just 
 slain an Englishman, whose blood is flowing at her 
 feet. The sternness of the warrior has disappeared, 
 and the innocent young shepherdess is seen under 
 her cuirass. The sword nearly falls from her trembling 
 hand ; astonishment, mingled with- pity and alarm, is 
 seen on her lovely countenance. It is not she who has 
 killed the man : it is her sword, swayed by some power 
 she could not control or resist. Another statue chiseled 
 by the Princess Marie, was placed, after her death, at 
 the tomb of her brother, the Duke of Orleans. In the 
 pursuit of her favorite art, the princess did not spare 
 her self-love, and she would take pleasure in relatirjg, 
 that, more than once, she had sent anonymous works 
 to the public exhibitions, and that the public had pas- 
 sed coldly before these first attempts, and not only the 
 public, who seldom flatter, but also the courtiers, who 
 always flatter. She would tell also of the just severity 
 of the criticisms upon her, for unlike the greater part of 
 her companions, who incessantly attack criticism, the 
 Princess Marie paid deference to it, saying that truth 
 was not so painful to hear as might be supposed. And 
 with how much enjoyment would she repeat, that at 
 one exhibition she had sent an anonymous painting, 
 much valued by her, and when she passed before 
 the despised work, and stopped complacently to look 
 at it, a flatterer, who accompanied her, said, "Ah, 
 prinoess, you who understand such matters, how can 
 you stop before such baboons ? " 
 Such was the family of Louis Philippe. His peculiar 
 
GUIZOT. 161 
 
 province seemed to be, to bring up, instruct, and en- 
 rich his children. His sons were all educated at col- 
 lege, among other young men of their age. They 
 pursued the same studies, contended for the same 
 prizes, and of these prizes they had their share, but 
 not without great difficulty and hard study. His chil- 
 dren were the objects of Louis Philippe's enjoyment 
 and activity. His errors chiefly arose from pursuing 
 their aggrandizement more zealously than he did the 
 welfare of the French people. 
 
 The most distinguished man connected with the 
 government of Louis Philippe, was Francis Peter "Wil- 
 liam Guizot. He was born of Protestant parents, in 
 1789. His father was a lawyer of some eminence, who, 
 on account of his principles during the Revolution, was 
 compelled to flee from the country. He was found in 
 a remote province, by an agent of the police, who, 
 knowing and respecting his character, offered to allow 
 him to escape, being undesirous to contribute in any- 
 wise to the death of so good a man. The worthy advo- 
 cate, instinctively apprehending that in thus saving his 
 own life he would infallibly endanger the life of his 
 generous and humble friend, did not an instant hesi- 
 tate to relinquish the last hope left to him. He was 
 apprehended and beheaded. Madame Guizot, the 
 mother of the future distinguished minister of France, 
 was thus left a widow, with two sons, of whom the eld- 
 est, the remarkable subject of this brief sketch, was 
 entering, at the period of the death of his father, into 
 his seventh year. From the death of her husband and. 
 their parent, commenced, for this admirable woman, 
 the austere practice of those painful duties which 
 
162 THE REIGN OP LOUIS PHTLLIPPE. 
 
 devolved upon her. Notwithstanding the interest with 
 which the sad fate of her husband invested her in their 
 native town, she tore herself away from friends and 
 relatives, and proceeded to Geneva, where she felt she 
 could give her children a more solid and serious educa- 
 tion than the distracted condition of France permitted 
 at home. 
 
 In 1805, young Guizot went to Paris, and began the 
 study of the law. Here the gravity and severity of his 
 character, with poverty, and want of friends, kept 
 him long in obscurity. But he finally procured a pre- 
 ceptorship in a family of great respectability, where he 
 was treated according to his singular merits, and 
 brought into connection with influential society. In 
 this situation he became acquainted with Mademoiselle 
 Pauline de Meulan, a lady of excellent attainments 
 and character, and of a distinguished family, but im- 
 poverished by the Kevolution. She at that time con- 
 ducted a periodical with great. success; but being seized 
 with a serious illness, she feared she should be obliged 
 to suspend, if not tp discontinue altogether, her labors, 
 for lack of the necessary assistance. While these sad 
 thoughts were revolving in her mind, she received, one 
 morning, in an unknown hand, a letter, telling her to 
 keep her mind at rest, for that if the zeal and industry 
 of another could suffice, she might rely upon the reg- 
 ular aid of a substitute. The offer of the unknown 
 contributor, who was none other than Guizot, was ac- 
 cepted ; and it was not till she had completely recov- 
 ered that Mademoiselle de Meulan was aware of the 
 name of her benefactor. This good-natured act was 
 not without its uses to Guizot. His humane and liberal 
 
MARRIAGE OF GUIZOT. 163 
 
 conduct procured him friends and admirers; and when, 
 in the following year, (1809) he published a " Diction- 
 ary of Synonyms," the literary world, propitiated by 
 his kindness to a suffering authoress, were civilly dis- 
 posed toward him. The work on synonyms was rap- 
 idly followed by a volume of "Lives of the French 
 Poets." Guizot had now embraced literature rather 
 than law for a profession. He published a French 
 translation of Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Eoman 
 Empire, enriched with valuable and erudite notes, indi- 
 cating depth of scholarship and historical research. 
 The friendship, founded on his kindness to Pauline de 
 Meulan, ripened into love, and five years after, (1812) 
 they were married. Pauline was several years his 
 senior. She was a superior woman, of a grave and 
 reflective character, who struggled to make all who 
 came into contact with her purer and more perfect. 
 As was to be expected, she acquired a great ascend- 
 ancy over the steady and sensible young man who had 
 chosen her for a wife. The demure and hard-working 
 student had many angularities to round off — many 
 little defects of manner and gesture to modify. Mad- 
 ame Guizot became his monitress ; and thus early 
 habituated to prudence and self-control, these virtues 
 became a part of his nature. Soon after his marriage 
 he was appointed to the professorship of history in the 
 Paris University. In 1814, on the restoration of the 
 Bourbons, he was appointed to a government oflSce, 
 but Bonaparte's return from Elba sent him back to his 
 professorship. From this period until the year 1820 
 his life was mostly literary, though he was occasionally 
 in the employ of the government. Between 1820 and 
 
164 
 
 THE BEIGN OF LOUIS PHTLLIPPE. 
 
 1822, he published several political pamphlets, which 
 had great influence on public opinion. In these pro- 
 ducts of a powerful and reflective mind, there was 
 neither flattery of the people, nor abuse of authority. 
 They appeared to be the views of a calm, conscientious 
 man, taking his stand between anarchy and despotism. 
 Guizot had, by these political treatises, become a sort 
 of power in politics. Still, he did not abandon his seri- 
 ous historical studies, and he published twenty-seven 
 volumes of memoirs relating to English history. These 
 were followed by twenty-eight volumes relating to the 
 history of France. He also translated several of the 
 tragedies of Shakspeare into French. In 1827, Guizot 
 lost his first wife, but afterward married, and again 
 became a widower. 
 
 During the ministry of Polignac, Guizot was elected 
 to the Chamber of Deputies, and wrote the famous pro- 
 test of the Chambers against the despotic ordinances 
 of Charles X. Upon the accession of Louis Philippe, 
 he was chosen as a member of the cabinet, and, except 
 when employed as minister to England, he may be said 
 to have been a leading member of every administra- 
 tion until the overthrow of that monarch. Ilis only 
 rival in the public estimation was Thiers. An 
 able but unscrupulous and 'dishonest diplomatist, he 
 bent the whole energy of his genius to the promotion 
 of the projects of Louis Philippe for the aggrandize- 
 ment of his family. The chief, and almost only merit, 
 that can be accorded to the career of Guizot, while 
 minister, was his desire to preserve the peace of Europe. 
 His tricky and dishonest course, while in office, has 
 tended greatly to destroy the high position to which his 
 ability, as a historian, would entitle him. 
 
PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF GUIZOT. 165 
 
 The personal appearance and manner of Guizot are 
 thus graphically described by an English author : — 
 "Below the middle stature, somewhat square-built, and 
 of an aspect always grave, if not severe, with a proud 
 and piercing eye, Guizot strikes you at first sight as a 
 man of thoughtful and reflective habits, and of an 
 energy subdued rather than extinguished by severe 
 study. Approach him nearer, and you will perceive 
 that he is more spare in flesh, more somber in appear- 
 ance, more livid in look, than you had supposed at a 
 distance. His features, when excited, assume a disa- 
 greeable aspect — his lips become contracted, his eyes 
 appear deeper sunk in their cavernous orbits, and his 
 whole appearance gives token of a person of a restless 
 and melancholy, as well as of a meditative disposition. 
 There is no gayety in his look or manner. He does not 
 laugh nor joke with his next neighbor on the bench of 
 ministers, and appears altogether absorbed in public 
 affairs or in his own reflections. He exhibits, on his 
 entrance to the Chamber, the impassibility of a profes- 
 sor or college tutor. He crosses his arms, inclines his 
 head on his breast, and attentively listens to the dis- 
 cussion. But if the orator at the tribune attacks the 
 man or his system, Guizot becomes restless and excited, 
 rises from his seat, interrupts the speaker, strikes his 
 desk with his wooden paper-knife, and, giving a loud 
 contradiction to the member in possession of the 
 house, asks to be heard in reply. 
 
 "At the tribune, notwithstanding his diminutive stat- 
 ure, his appearance is imposing, for he has an expres- 
 sive countenance — there is much latent fire in his 
 deep-set eye, and notwithstanding his dictatorial and 
 
166 THE BEKOT OP LOUIS PHILLIFPE. 
 
 pedantical air, there is a certain dignity in his manner. 
 His voice is full and sonorons, but it is neither very 
 varied in tone nor very flexible. It is dry, sententious, 
 clear, dogmatical, luminous, lacking the suppleness and 
 vivacity of Thiers, and genial flow, pathos, richness, 
 and grace. But its tone, it must be admitted, is gen- 
 erally philosophical and elevated, and he exhibits 
 great power of expression, and often much adroitness 
 in hitting the humor of the Chamber. No man seizes 
 on a ieading popular idea with greater address, or 
 more artfully and elaborately produces it suited to the 
 taste of a majority. Though he seldom breaks out into 
 those happy bursts which enthrall and captivate the 
 auditor and hurry him along against his will, yet he is 
 almost always copious and fertile, and shows his supe- 
 riority to the mass, as a scholar and a man of general 
 information. Guizot is always self-reliant, and nearly 
 always cool and self-possessed. The most frivolous 
 anl oft-repeated interruptions cannot turn him from 
 the exposition and development of a favorite idea." 
 
 But there was a statesman in France even more in- 
 fluential, and held in higher estimation by the French, 
 than Guizot. This was Louis Adolphe Thiers. He 
 was born at Marseilles, April 26, 1797. His father 
 was a locksmith and small iron-dealer, and his mother 
 a daughter of a bankrupt merchant, of a poor but 
 proud family. By the influence of some relations, 
 Adolphe was admitted a free scholar in the Imperial 
 Lyceum of Marseilles, where he acquitted himself 
 creditably until 1815, when he removed to Aix, to 
 enter upon the study of law. Here he formed a lasting 
 friendship with Mignet the historian, who was his 
 
THIERS. 167 
 
 fellow-student. In this situation, Thiers added history, 
 philosophy, and belles-lettres, to his law studies, and 
 imbibed radical notions. Even then he showed traces 
 of the demagogue — declaimed against the restoration, 
 and made himself suspected by the police and hated 
 by the faculty of the college. Eather than confer the 
 prize of eloquence upon him, his instructors adjourned 
 the trial a year, when, producing the same piece, he 
 was outdone, much to their satisfaction, by an anony- 
 mous oration sent from Paris; but what was their 
 subsequent mortification to find that this also was a 
 production of their mischievous little Jacobin, who had 
 taken this pleasant method of entrapping them. As a 
 lawyer in Aix, Thiers could get no employment, and 
 went with Mignet to Paris. They took lodgings in the 
 garret of a miserable house in one of the meanest 
 streets of the capital. A common chest of drawers, of 
 the cheapest wood, a bed to match, two rush-bottom 
 chairs, a little rickety nut-wood table, incapable of 
 standing steadily on its legs, and a white calico cur- 
 tain, formed the inventory of the furniture which ac- 
 commodated the future prime minister of the greatest 
 country in Europe, and the future historian of the 
 Revolution. After some time spent in poverty and 
 restlessness, Thiers obtained a situation among the 
 editors of an influential journal. His bold and vigor- 
 ous articles soon excited general attention ; and the 
 young politician, in despite of poverty, found himself 
 drawn into the best circles of Paris. He was, how- 
 ever, exceedingly diligent, and made the utmost im- 
 provement of the opportunities placed at his disposal. 
 Through the assistance of a generous friend, he became 
 
168 THE REIGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 proprietor of one-half of the journal he conducted. He 
 rose at five in the morning, and from that time until 
 noon, applied himself to his editorial duties, and made 
 his paper so popular that its receipts were increased 
 five fold. After having thus devoted those hours to 
 labor which most Parisians were wont to consume in 
 sleep and idleness, he went into society, where he 
 sought, not only to extend his connections, but to col- 
 lect information, which he well knew how to turn to 
 account. 
 
 If Thiers were an ordinary man he would, doubtless, 
 have been abundantly satisfied by his eminent success 
 as a newspaper writer. But he sought for more perma- 
 nent fame, and in 1823, published the first volume of 
 a History of the French Revolution. So doubtful were 
 the booksellers of his ability as a historian, notwith- 
 standing his success as a journalist, that the work was 
 published under the name of Felix Bodir, a writer 
 then popular in France. It created a great sensrtion, 
 and soon acquired a party value altogether indepen- 
 dent of its literary merit. The clearness, vigor, and 
 beauty of the young author's style — the art and won- 
 derful tact with which he dramatized circumstances — 
 added an inexpressible charm to his development of 
 the revolutionary movement. Each volume appeared 
 with increasing' popularity. It was followed, after an 
 interval of some years, by his brilliant, though not 
 always reliable, History of the Consulate and Empire. 
 
 After the Revolution of 1830, Thiers was elected to 
 the Chamber of Deputies, where he soon distinguished 
 himself. His most remarkable parliamentary eiibrt, 
 was one in regard to the finances. He was chosen to 
 
THIERS IN THE CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES. 169 
 
 write the report from the committee on that subject ; 
 but the debate in the Chamber having been suddenly 
 and unexpectedly brought to a close one evening, the 
 report was in order for the next morning. To write a 
 report so voluminous in a single night, was a mechani- 
 cal impossibility, to say nothing of the mental part of 
 the process. What was to be done? Such reports are 
 always prepared in writing and read to the Chamber, 
 for this obvious reason, that although necessarily the 
 composition of an individual member of the committee, 
 they are in fact supposed to proceed from, and do really 
 possess the sanction of all the members of the commit- 
 tee, as well as of that individual member who is more 
 especially charged with their composition. Thiers, 
 however, pressed by the exigency of the occasion, went 
 down to the Chamber, and apologizing for being com- 
 pelled to depart from the usage of the house, by the 
 unexpectedly early period at which the report was 
 called for, in giving an unwritten report, he proceeded 
 at once to the subject, aided only by a few numerical 
 memorandas, and delivered a speech of four hours' 
 duration, in which he discussed and exhausted every 
 topic bearing on the matter of the finances. He 
 plunged, with ready and voluble fluency, into financial, 
 political, and administrative details, intermingled with 
 bursts of picturesque oratory, with which he astonished 
 and confounded the Chamber. History, politics, public 
 economy, questions of national security and progress, 
 were passed in succession before his wondering hearers, 
 like scenes exhibited in a magic lantern. As usual, no 
 topic was omitted — every question was marshaled in 
 its proper place- and order, but the house, nevertheless, 
 
170 
 
 THE EEIGN OF LOUIS PHILL1PPE. 
 
 exhibited no signs of fatigue; they listened with, una- 
 bated interest to the end. On several occasions in . 
 pauses of his speech, after he had continued speaking 
 for nearly three hoars, they invited him to rest, not from 
 fatigue on their part, but from apprehension of his phys- 
 ical powers being exhausted. He proceeded, however, 
 to the close without suspension. 
 
 In 1832, Thiers was appointed a member of the cabi- 
 net, and signalized his advent to power by the arrest 
 of the Duchess de Berri and the exposure of her frailty, 
 which obliterated any sentiment of chivalrous compas- 
 sion which the struggle of a brave mother, for what 
 she believed to be the rights of her son, might naturally 
 have produced. From that period he took a promi 
 nent position in the administration of affairs until the 
 overthrow of his royal master. 
 
 In physical appearance, Adolphe Thiers is extremely 
 unprepossessing. He has neither figure, nor shape, nor 
 mien, to win favor. His voice is thin, harsh, and 
 reedy — his aspect sinister, deceitful and tricky — a 
 sardonic smile plays about his insincere and mocking 
 mouth, and at first view all spectators are disposed to 
 distrust so ill-favored a little dwarf. The first time he 
 gets up to speak or rather squeak, there is a universal 
 desire to put him down with a universal laugh. But let 
 the little pigmy be fairly heard, and he greets his audi- 
 tors with such pleasant, light, lively, voluble talk, inter- 
 spersed with historical remarks, personal anecdotes, 
 ingenious reflections, all conveyed in such clear, concise 
 and incomparable language, that they forget his ' ugli- 
 ness, his impudence and insincerity. They listen, and 
 as Rousseau said, in one of his most eloquent letters, 
 
THE WAB IN ALGIEES. 171 
 
 in "listening they are undone." He fixes his huge 
 spectacles, (which entirely hide his eyes,) upon his 
 audience, and addresses them in a "how d'ye do" vein 
 of eloquence, and soon captivates their attention just 
 as if he was addressing each one personally. There is 
 no warmth, no apostrophe, no rhetoric, no figure of 
 speech, no pathos, but a wonderful tumbling forth of 
 ideas rushing out like children from a country school 
 house — but without any effort, any aim at originality, 
 any desire to excite surprise. It is cold, sensible, irre- 
 sistible. Those who know him well,do not suppose he 
 can be in earnest about any matter which does not in- 
 timately concern his own interests. The truth is that 
 in his innermost heart he laughs at all theories, other 
 than the one which can raise Adolphe Thiers to power, 
 and maintain him there. He is more restless and rash 
 than Guizot, but has the same perseverance and im- 
 perturbable determination to occupy the foremost place 
 of power — the same love of eminence, not for its 
 wealth, its luxury, or the other consequences of emi- 
 nence, but for its own sake; for its activity, for its 
 responsibility, and because it satisfies the cravings of 
 a spirit purely and naturally ambitious of managing 
 great events. 
 
 Notwithstanding the pacific tendency of Louis Phil- 
 ippe's reign, the war in Algiers, begun by Charles X., 
 was continued by him. Having taken possession of 
 Algiers, it was thought dishonorable for the French to 
 abandon it ; while to occupy it, was to be in continual 
 warfare with the natives. Another reason, probably, 
 had great weight in the decision of Louis Philippe's 
 cabinet, in regard to the continuation of the war. It 
 
172 THE REIGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 afforded congenial occupation to the most restless, and 
 turbulent, portion of the French, who might otherwise 
 have periled the peace of Europe. The occupation of the 
 new possession, however, was a constant source of em- 
 barrassment, and occasioned a continual and enormous 
 drain upon the treasury. The intractable natives of 
 Algiers, it was found, were not reducible to method ; 
 aud European colonists could not be induced to settle 
 among them. At least the French, who understand 
 the sword better than the olive-branch, and parade 
 more than utility, could make nothing of their acquisi- 
 tion. Nominally masters of Algiers, they really only 
 possessed those portions occupied by their garrisons. 
 The neighboring Moors and Arabs gave them constant 
 employment, making frequent attacks upon the French 
 posts, while the French sacked and burnt their villages 
 in retaliation. Instead of dealing with the Arabs on 
 principles of conciliation, and nursing the infant col- 
 ony with money, goods, markets and colonists, the 
 conquerors assumed a contrary policy. The most ac- 
 tive and powerful chief arrayed against them^ was the 
 celebrated Abd-el-Kader, Emir of Mascara, a province 
 lying along the foot of the lesser Atlas mountains. 
 
 The public life of Abd-el-Kader, (who was born 
 in 1806,) commenced with the conquest of Algiers by 
 the French in 1830. Chosen Emir of the tribes ar- 
 rayed in opposition to French domination, he con- 
 trived to rapidly extend his influence still more and 
 more widely among the neighboring tribes, until he 
 became the head of a powerful confederacy of bellige- 
 rent Arabs. Thenceforward, for seventeen years, the 
 Emir kept up an almost constant warfare against the 
 
THE FRENCH AHD THE ABAES. 173 
 
 French. The Arabs, whose rude and savage love of 
 independence is the redeeming trait of their character, 
 and whose religious fanaticism in the honr of defeat 
 arouses them to fresh exertions, were unanimous in 
 their determination never to yield to the French. The 
 latter gained victory after victory without advantage. 
 The Arabs were able to nourish where the French could 
 not exist. Their burning summers, their rugged and 
 pathless country, were allies that no treachery could 
 deprive them of. Their destitution of military sup- 
 plies, without which no European army can perform 
 the most ordinary operations, did not affect their con- 
 stant power of annoyance, or diminish their opportu- 
 nities of harassing and surrounding their opponents' 
 position. They regarded Abd-el-Kader — who is de- 
 scended from one of the most ancient Arabian families, 
 as the gallant defender of their faith, and the heroic 
 chief of a holy war, in which light their contest with 
 the French was universally regarded. Pillaging, burn- 
 ing, and massacring were the order of the day on both 
 sides. The following example of the atrocities com- 
 mitted by the French, is enough to justify any cruelty 
 of which the Arabs may have been guilty. Among 
 the French officers, in the early part of 1845, was a 
 Colonel Pelissier, who, on one occasion,, drove a large 
 number of Arabs, belonging to the tribe of Ouled 
 Kiah, into a large cavern, in the mountains to which 
 they were accustomed to retreat, and the entrance of 
 which they had strongly fortified. 
 
 After having surrounded the caverns, some fagots 
 were lighted and thrown by the French troops before 
 the entrance. After this demonstration, which was 
 
174 THE EEIGN OF LOTJIS PHTLLIPFE. 
 
 made to convince the Arabs that the French had the 
 power, if they pleased, of suffocating them in their 
 hiding-place, the colonel threw in letters offering to 
 them life and liberty if they would surrender their 
 arms and their horses. At first they refused, but sub- 
 sequently they replied that they would consent if the 
 French troops would withdraw. This condition was 
 considered inadmissible, and more burning fagots were 
 thrown. A great tumult now began, and it was known 
 afterward that it arose from a discussion as to whether 
 there should be a surrender or not. The party opposed 
 to a surrender carried their point, and a few of the 
 minority made their escape. Colonel Pelissier, profes- 
 sing a wish to spare the lives of those who remained in 
 the cavern, sent some Arabs to them to exhort them to 
 surrender. They refused, and some women, who did 
 not partake of the savage fanaticism of the majority, 
 attempted to fly, but their husbands and relations fired 
 upon them to prevent their escape from the martyrdom 
 which they had themselves resolved to suffer. Colonel 
 Pelissier then suspended the throwing of the burning 
 fagots, and sent a French officer to hold a parley with 
 the Ouled Eiahs, but his messenger was received with 
 a discharge of fire-arms, and could not perform his 
 mission. This state of things continued till the next 
 night, when the fire was renewed and rendered intense. 
 During this time the cries of the unhappy wretches 
 who were being suffocated, were dreadful, and then 
 nothing was heard but the crackling of the fagots. 
 This silence spoke volumes. The troops entered and 
 found eight hundred dead bodies. About one hundred 
 and fifty, who still breathed, were brought into the 
 
ABD-EL-KADER. 175 
 
 fresh air, but a portion of them died afterward. An 
 officer under Pelissier's command, in giving the hide- 
 ous details of this atrocious massacre, said : " Six 
 hundred bodies have already been taken out of the 
 cave, without counting those that were heaped one 
 above the other, nor counting the infants at the breast, 
 who were almost entirely concealed by their mothers' 
 clothes. The colonel expressed the horror which he 
 felt at this terrible result. He is afraid, principally, 
 of the attacks of the journals, who will, no doubt, criti- 
 cise so deplorable an act. One thing certain, is, that 
 it has made the whole country submit. "We have been 
 obliged to remove our camp from the neighborhood of 
 the caves on account of the infectious smell, and we 
 have abandoned the place to the ravens and vultures, 
 who have been flying for some days around the grotto, 
 and which we can see from our encampment carrying 
 away huge pieces of human flesh." 
 
 Abd-el-Kader, like another Antaeus, rose with fresh 
 vigor after each blow, and renewed the contest with 
 increased spirit. For a large portion of the seventeen 
 years that Abd-el-Kader maintained the war, the 
 French had an army of over 100,000 men in Algiers, 
 the support of which cost $200,000,000. In 1847, 
 Abd-el-Kader was finally, through alleged treachery 
 and bad faith on the part of the French, taken prisoner 
 and confined at Amboise, in the west of France, where 
 he lingered in captivity until 1852. 
 
 In person, Abd-el-Kader is very small ; his face is 
 long and deadly pale; his large black eyes are soft 
 and languishing ; his mouth small and delicate ; his 
 nose rather aquiline ; his beard thin, but jet black. 
 
17d THE EEIGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 His dre3s was always distinguished by the most studied 
 simplicity, having no gold or embroidery on any part 
 of it. His whole appearance is dignified and prepos- 
 sessing. His disposition is humane, and many acts of 
 generosity are told of him. His habits are correct, 
 according to the Arab standard, as he is guiltless of 
 any infidelity toward his wives, four of whom accom- 
 panied him to his French prison. In regard to these 
 wives, the French relate an amusing anecdote. Abd- 
 el-Kader, it is said, lately employed a competent per- 
 son to give his children lessons in writing. The teacher 
 fulfilled his task in the most exemplary manner, treat- 
 ing his little pupils with the utmost kindness. The 
 brave father, being very grateful, bethought him of 
 making the teaeher a present as a mark of his esteem, 
 and, after much cogitation, concluded to give him one 
 of his Arabian wives! The Frenchman in vain en- 
 deavored to explain that he already had a wife, and 
 that European law only allowed him one. Abd-el- 
 Kader thought the writing-master wished to be cere- 
 monious, and persisted most perseveringly in his offer, 
 stating, in a courteous manner, that he would still have 
 three wives left — enough, in the name of Allah, for a 
 poor prisoner. The matter ended and the writing- 
 master was rescued from this ludicrous dilemma, by his 
 ■wife — the- original, European one — carrying him off 
 from the chief's presence, and prohibiting him from 
 ever entering there again. 
 
 Not alone in the early stages of his captivity, but 
 ever since he became their neighbor, the ladies of Am- 
 boise, with continuous kindness, have exhibited their 
 benevolent feelings both to him and to the females of 
 
THE CAPTIVE EMER. 177 
 
 his suite and their children. Delicacies from their 
 kitchens, and little useful presents have been sent to 
 the po^r captives, who have received these attentions 
 in the spirit in which they were given. One instance 
 of considerateness gave particular gratification to the 
 Emir. A lady sent him a magnificent plant, a native 
 of his own valleys of the Atlas. It is related that the 
 Emir on receiving it burst into tears. He sent back 
 the expression of his gratitude in the following charac- 
 teristically poetical words, — "Too poor to offer you in 
 return any thing worthy of your acceptance, not pos- 
 sessing even a flower that I can call mine, I will pray 
 to Allah that for the love of his servant he will one 
 day bestow Paradise upon you." 
 
 The large, mournful, gazelle eyes, of Abd-eKKader, 
 his calm, beautiful mouth, and his rich, jet-black beard, 
 have gained many a heart, both male and female ; but 
 his misfortunes are too interesting, too romantic, too 
 jpiquant, to be lightly parted with, and the French will 
 probably keep the lion still caged as an object on which 
 to exercise their sensibilities. Occasionally the Emir 
 appears on his balcony, accompanied by the ladies of 
 his suite. One of them is said to be still young, and 
 very handsome. This is the report of a young French- 
 man, whose patient curiosity was rewarded on a happy 
 occasion, when the vailed fair one withdrew the envi- 
 ous screen of her beauties one day, imagining that she 
 was unobserved, that she might the better gaze upon 
 the fine river, and feel the soft breeze of an evening 
 in June upon her cheek. Occasionally some of the 
 children of the captives may be seen playing round 
 
 their parents, as they stand motionless, looking from 
 
 8* 
 
178 THE BEIGK OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE. 
 
 their high position. These little captives are of all 
 shades, from white to ebony hue, and are by no means 
 so silent or so still as their elders, for they clamor and 
 climb and twist about upon the parapets in a manner 
 quite startling to those who are watching them from 
 below. 
 
 Some time ago the bishop of Algiers, passing through 
 Amboise, stopped to pay a visit to the Emir ; he ex- 
 horted him to resignation — alas! what else could he 
 preach? — and received the same answer as the illus- 
 trious prisoner always gives to those who seek to con- 
 sole him, — "I gave myself up on the sole condition 
 that I should be conducted to Alexandria, in order to 
 go to Mecca, where I desired to finish my days. The 
 promise was given me : I ask for nothing further, and 
 I rely on the justice of Allah." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LOUIS KAPOLEON. 
 
 "When outraged and indignant France overthrew 
 Charles X., by the three days of July, and drove that 
 monarch — sworn to destroy the liberties, of the peo- 
 ple — into exile, it conferred the throne, in its headlong 
 haste and infatuation, upon Louis Philippe. The throes 
 of France are always felt in Italy, which has long 
 groaned under the triple, oppression of the Pope, Aus- 
 tria, and the petty princes ; and, no sooner was Charles 
 X. driven from Paris by a nation that loathed him, 
 than groups of Italian patriots were in arms, burning 
 to free their country from the shackles that enthralled 
 it. The two sons of Hortense, now grown to manhood, 
 had been waiting for an occasion to try their fortunes, 
 and, encouraged by some of the Italian insurgents, 
 they prepared to stake their all in the cause of Italian 
 freedom. They believed that a brilliant career awaited 
 them, not unworthy their great uncle, who had found a 
 grave in St. Helena. When about to join the friends 
 of freedom at Bologna, against Austria, Prince Louis 
 Napoleon and his brother, addressed the following 
 laconic note to their mother, who was unacquainted 
 with their plans : 
 
 "Mother, — Your affection will comprehend our 
 feelings. We have entered into engagements, which 
 
180 LOTUS NAPOLEON. 
 
 we cannot fail to perform, and the name which we 
 bear constrains us to succor the unfortunate who call 
 to us." 
 
 Their afflicted mother soon after hastened to meet 
 them, eager to withdraw her children, whom she loved 
 with tenderness and cherished with pride, from that 
 bloody and unequal struggle. " Feel proud, madam, 
 (said General Armandi, an Italian patriot, to Queen 
 Hortense, when he perceived her maternal anguish, 
 and shared all her apprehensions,) feel proud at being 
 the mother of euch sons. The whole of their conduct 
 in these melancholy circumstances, is a series of noble 
 and generous sentiments, worthy of their name." Hor- 
 tense, who was a woman of great penetration, endeav- 
 ored in vain to dissuade her sons from their rash and 
 perilous enterprise. The princes, listening only to 
 their warlike ardor, armed and led forward a few 
 determined patriots. Several brilliant actions were 
 fought With much bravery and address, against greatly 
 superior bodies of Austrians. They defeated the Papal 
 forces on several occasions. Great rejoicings prevailed 
 in the camp of the insurgents : alarm and confnsion 
 filled the Vatican. Both were of short duration. The 
 trooked and double-tongued policy of the French and 
 Austrian rulers gained the upper hand. The two 
 princes were finally conquered and banished from the 
 soil of Italy. At Faenga the elder of the two brothers 
 was attacked with an internal inflammation and ex- 
 pired, March 27, 1831, in the arms of the younger. 
 Louis Napoleon was also sick from fatigue, anxiety and 
 affliction. The Austrians were in possession of the 
 town where he was concealed, and it required all the 
 
HORTENSE AND HEK SON IN PAEIS. 181 
 
 fortitude and ingenuity of the Duchess of St. Lea, (as 
 Queen Hortense was called after her husband abdicated 
 the throne of Holland,) to save the only son who now 
 remained to her. She caused a report to be imme- 
 diately circulated, that the prince had taken refuge in 
 Greece ; and although lodging in the immediate neigh- 
 borhood of the commander of the Austrian forces, she 
 succeeded, in the midst of the most harassing anxie- 
 ties, in concealing her patient from the observation of 
 all. By disguising herself as a domestic, and, what is 
 still more difficult for a woman, concealing her grief 
 of heart, she conducted him, under the protection of an 
 English passport, and not without running great risks, 
 through a large part of Italy ; and, in order to take 
 him to a safe asylum in Switzerland, she ventured to 
 brave the law of proscription, which excluded her from 
 the soil of France. "At length, (said she,) I arrived at 
 the barriers of Paris, and I felt a sort of pride in show- 
 ing that capital, in its best points of view, to my son, 
 who could no longer remember it. From the windows 
 of my apartment I looked upon the Boulevards ; and, 
 in my present isolation, I felt a sort of bitter joy in 
 being able once more to behold that city whieh I was 
 about to leave, probably for ever, without speaking to 
 any one, or being at all distracted from the impression 
 which that view made upon my mind." Thus it was 
 that that young man, whose birth had been announced 
 by salvos of artillery throughout the vast extent of the 
 empire, from Hamburgh to Eome, and from the Pyr- 
 enees to the Danube, returned to Paris, after fifteen 
 years of exile, a proscribed fugitive. A new impulse 
 was given to the indomitable ambition of Louis 
 
182 :louis napoleon. 
 
 Napoleon, by his mother's showing him from the win' 
 dows of her apartments, the scenes where she had re- 
 ceived homage as a queen, and enjoyed an intimacy 
 with the Emperor that few others could boast. Hor- 
 tense announced in a letter to Louis Philippe, her ar- 
 rival in Paris with her son. The king, notwithstand- 
 ing his family had received many favors from the Em- 
 peror through the influence of Hortense,* gave her a 
 peremptory order to quit the kingdom, and she pro- 
 ceeded, with her son to England. There the prince 
 employed his time in completing his education, and 
 visiting, with the most scrupulous attention, every es« 
 tablishment of industry or science. Hortense and her 
 son returned to Switzerland in August, 1831. A depu 
 tation of Polish noblemen, who had been sent from War- 
 saw, visited Louis Napoleon, and urged him to place 
 himself at the head of the armies of Poland. The letter 
 of the Polish chief contained the following passage : 
 
 "To whom could the direction of our enterprise be 
 confided with greater hope of success than to the 
 nephew of him who was the greatest captain of all ages. 
 Should a young Bonaparte appear upon our battle- 
 fields, waving the tri-colored standard for victory, what 
 a moral effect would be produced, the consequences of 
 which would be incalculable to our oppressed country. 
 Go, then, young hero, the hope of Poland, and confide 
 to the waves, that will obey at the whisper of thy great 
 name, the future Caesar, and what is more, the destinies 
 
 * The Emperor, through the solicitation of Hortense, permitted Louis 
 Philippe's mother and aunt, (the Dnchess of Bourbon, mother of the 
 Duke of Enghein,) to remain in France, and granted to the former a 
 pension of $80,000 a year, and to the latter $40,000. It was from this 
 liberality that Louis Philippe was supported while an exile. These 
 ladies wrote many letters to Queen Hortense, expressive of their gratitude 
 fer her beneficent influence with the Emperor in their behalf. 
 
LOUIS -NAPOLEON AND THE POLES. 183 
 
 of liberty, and you will gather the acknowledgments 
 of your brethren in arms, and the admiration of the 
 universe." 
 
 This offer to a young man of twenty-two, however 
 much it may have been influenced by the name he 
 bore, certainly would not have been made unless the 
 ability displayed by him in the Italian insurrection had 
 entitled him to the confidence of the Polish generals. 
 But the misfortunes of the Italian movement had 
 rendered Louis Napoleon somewhat more distrustful 
 of success, than he had been the previous year, and 
 he declined to accept the proposal. This refusal was 
 in accordance with the earnest entreaties of Queen 
 Hortense, who, however frivolous she may have been 
 in her youth, while intoxicated with the splendors and 
 gayeties of a court, showed herself, throughout her 
 exile, to be a prudent, sensible, affectionate, and noble- 
 hearted mother. Louis Napoleon, restless and rash, 
 was hardly contented with his inactivity, and even 
 contemplated the recall of his answer to the Polish 
 deputation, but the calamities that rapidly overspread 
 that unhappy country, and its gallant patriots, put an 
 end to his schemes. In the mean time his purse was 
 always open to the unfortunate Poles. All the fugi- 
 tives that passed through Constance, his Swiss home, 
 were quartered at his expense, and departed from 
 thence loaded with presents. All his large income 
 was spent on them. Among other things, he presented 
 the Polish committee a writing-case that had belonged 
 to the Emperor, which was sold for $4000. The com- 
 mittee, as an expression of their gratitude, wrote him 
 the following letter : 
 
184 LOOTS NAPOLEON. 
 
 "We should be happy were we permitted to follow 
 the impulse of our hearts, and to preserve, as a sacred 
 relic, an object which formerly belonged to the great 
 man, whose death the Poles, (who of late enjoyed the 
 glory to belong to his phalanx,) deplore with the utmost 
 grief Five hundred of the Polish refugees, warmed 
 by the generous solicitude of his heart for their mis- 
 fortunes, have the honor to offer their sentiments of the 
 profoundest respect which they feel for the illustrious 
 descendant of the Emperor Napoleon." 
 
 In 1833, Louis Napoleon published a remarkable 
 pamphlet, entitled, " Political and Military Considera- 
 tions upon the Swiss Confederacy." It gave evidence 
 of thoughtfulness and of a fine talent for composition. 
 It created a considerable excitement in the diplomatic 
 world, and in the minds of military men. The consti- 
 tutions of the different cantons were examined, ana- 
 lyzed and described with astonishing sagacity for so 
 young an author. It abounded in superior views and 
 reflections, worthy of a thorough diplomatist. The 
 prince proposed a line of defense, which, if adopted, 
 would render the Swiss republic almost invulnerable 
 to the hostilities of foreign powers. As a mark of 
 their estimation of the pamphlet, the rights of citizen- 
 ship were conferred on him by the canton of Thurgo- 
 via. He returned thanks, (May 15, 1833,) for this 
 mark of esteem, in the following letter : 
 
 " I accept the rights of a citizen of Thurgovia with 
 the greatest pleasure. I am glad that a new tie now 
 binds me to that country, which for sixteen years has 
 extended to us the most generous hospitality. My 
 position as an exile, renders me doubly sensible to the 
 interest you show me. As a Frenchman and as a 
 Bonaparte, I am proud of being the citizen of a free 
 country. My mother desires me to tell you how much 
 she is affected by your kindness to me." 
 
THE MANILA! OF ABTHLERY. 185 
 
 Two years afterward, Prince Napoleon published a 
 
 work on artillery, for the nse of the Swiss troops, as a 
 
 reward for which, the government appointed him a 
 
 captain of artillery. In acknowledging this mark of 
 
 esteem and confidence, he wrote as follows : 
 
 "I have just received the letter which informs me 
 that the executive council of Berne have conferred the 
 title of captain of artillery on me, and hasten to ex- 
 press to you my gratitude for this nomination. My 
 country, or rather the French government, repulses me 
 because I am the nephew of Napoleon ; you are more 
 just. I am proud of being numbered among the de- 
 fenders of a state in which the sovereignty of the people 
 is considered as the basis of the constitution, and where 
 every citizen is ready to sacrifice himself for the liberty 
 and independence of his country." 
 
 This work was the result of three years of laborious 
 research, serious meditation, and an immense number 
 of practical experiments. The most competent authori- 
 ties gave this work the highest praise, and pronounced 
 Louis Napoleon to be one of the most competent mili- 
 tary tacticians of the age. The Swiss, French and 
 English journals, almost unanimously pronounced it 
 the best treatise on artillery existing in Europe. Al- 
 though nominally prepared for the use of the Swiss 
 troops, the real object of its composition, undoubtedly, 
 was to win the attention of the French officers, espe- 
 cially those who regarded with pride the splendid 
 achievements of the Emperor. In this Louis Napoleon, 
 was eminently successful, for many who had scarcely 
 thought of his existence at all, began to reflect upon 
 his position as a Bonaparte, and upon what it might 
 be, should a popular convulsion overthrow the throne 
 of Louis Philippe. 
 
186 
 
 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 In 1835, Donna Maria, Queen of Portugal, having 
 lost her husband, the Duke of Leuchtenberg, (son of 
 Eugene Beauharnois,) the question of providing her 
 with another husband was agitated among the Portu- 
 guese. Some persons of distinction opened a negotia- 
 tion with Louis Napoleon, on the subject of marrying 
 the royal widow. But as such a step would destroy 
 his prospects of becoming ruler of France, he per- 
 emptorily declined the proffered honor. A prince 
 without power and an exile without a country, he 
 seems to have had implicit faith that he would ulti- 
 mately become the successor of the Emperor Napoleon, 
 on the imperial throne of France ; and he was unwil- 
 ling to barter off his hopes, however dim their realiza- 
 tion might seem, for any present dignity, however 
 brilliant. The following letter, published by him, in 
 regard to his rumored intention of becoming the con- 
 sort of the Portuguese Queen, is clearly characterized 
 by this feeling : 
 
 "Arenemberg, December 14th, 1835. 
 
 " Several of the public journals have announced the 
 news of my departure for Portugal, as a suitor for the 
 hand of Queen Donna Maria. However flattering to 
 me, might be the supposition of a union with a young, 
 beautiful, and virtuous queen, the widow of a cousin 
 who was dear to me, it is my duty to disclaim such a 
 report, for which there is no foundation whatever. I 
 owe it to myself moreover to add, that notwithstanding 
 the lively interest which I feel in the destinies of a 
 nation which has just recovered its liberties, I would 
 refuse the honor of sharing the throne of Portugal, 
 should I be deemed worthy of such an honor. 
 
 " The noble conduct of my father, who abdicated in 
 1810, because he could not combine the interests of 
 France with those of Holland, has never departed from 
 
LAFAYETTE AND LOUIS NAPOLEON. 187 
 
 my mind. My father has proved to me hy his illustri- 
 ous example, how much one's country is preferable to 
 a foreign throne. I feel, in fact, that having been ac- 
 customed from my youth to cherish my country above 
 every thing else, I could not prefer any thing to French 
 interests. 
 
 " Persuaded that the great name which I bear shall 
 not always constitute a title of exclusion in the eyes of 
 my fellow-countrymen, because it recalls to their mind 
 fifteen years of glory, I wait with calmness, in a free 
 and hospitable country, till the people recall into their 
 minds those who were exiled in 1815, by 1,200,000 
 foreigners. The hope of one day serving France as a 
 citizen and a soldier, fortifies my mind, and in my 
 eyes, is of more value than the whole world. 
 
 " Accept, &c, 
 "Napoleon Louis Napoleon."* 
 
 As early as 1833, Louis Napoleon had been in con- 
 sultation with Lafayette in regard to French affairs. 
 The latter was dissatisfied with Louis Philippe, and 
 regretted having placed him on the throne. "But 
 France is not republican, (he added ;) we considered 
 the Duke of Reichstadt as a prisoner, and there was 
 no one but Louis Philippe that we could place at the 
 head of the nation." He thought that the government 
 of Louis Philippe could not stand, and that the name 
 of Bonaparte being the most popular one in France, 
 Louis Napoleon might grasp the imperial eagles 
 and bear them successfully to Paris. After the la- 
 mented death of Lafayette, Armand Carral, the 
 
 * At this period Louis Napoleon seems to have been unsettled in 
 regard to the name he should assume. Although his baptismal name 
 was Charles Louis Napoleon, his letters are indiscriminately signed 
 "Napoleon Bonaparte," "Napoleon Louis Bonaparte," and "Napoleon 
 Louis Napoleon." Since his accession to the Presidency of France he 
 has adopted the name of " Louis Napoleon." 
 
188 LOUIS NAPOLEOW. 
 
 acknowledged leader of the republican party, continued 
 the intercourse with the Prince. "His political and 
 military works, (said Carral in regard to Louis Na- 
 poleon,) prove that he has a noble character and a 
 strong mind. His name is the greatest of modern 
 times. If he understands the new interests of France, 
 if he is willing to forget his claim to imperial rights, 
 and think only of the sovereignty of the people, he 
 may yet be called to play a great part." These words 
 were reported to Louis Napoleon, and while they in- 
 flamed his ambition, strengthened his determination to 
 court the republican party, whose assistance was essen- 
 tial to the overthrow of Louis Philippe. He sought 
 diligently to obtain the confidence of the republicans, 
 and to win the affections of the army. By means of 
 trusty agents he sounded the dispositions of the troops 
 and their officers, entered into communication with 
 important personages, and obtained information as to 
 the position of parties. The result of his investigation 
 was neither quite favorable nor quite discouraging. 
 There were germs of dissatisfaction in the army ; no 
 doubt it was attached by its recollections to the Em- 
 peror; some of the commanding officers promised 
 their swords, but only after the first victory should be 
 won. The persons of note to whom overtures had been 
 made, showed themselves well-disposed rather than 
 hostile. Louis Philippe was evidently unpopular, and 
 doubtless it was from policy rather than from any par- 
 tiality to the young Bonaparte, that they wished, with- 
 out committing themselves to his cause, to be in a 
 situation to make the most of circumstances, should 
 Louis Philippe be overthrown. 
 
BEVOLUTIONAEY PKOJECTS. 189 
 
 In the month of July, 1836, Louis Napoleon went 
 to Baden, in order to be near the French frontier. He 
 had resolved to make a decisive blow, though what the 
 blow should be, or when it should be struck, were not 
 matters of certainty. He relied more upon the hap- 
 pening of some favorable exigency than upon any pre- 
 arranged plan. The magic of his name, however, was 
 his chief reliance. His favorite idea was that of 
 throwing himself into some large and strongly forti- 
 fied town, and there, by the influence of his name, and 
 the boldness of his movement, to rally around him the 
 inhabitants and the garrison ; then to hasten, by forced 
 marches, to Paris, winning on his way both troops and 
 people. After much thought, Strasbourg appeared to 
 him the most favorable city for the execution of his 
 designs, if 6uch his crude hopes rather than purposes, 
 may be called. An immense arsenal, with military 
 resources of every kind in abundance, a garrison of 
 ten thousand men, and a population greatly dissatisfied 
 with the established government, made this an impor- 
 tant place for the ground-work of his operations. The 
 news of a revolution at Strasbourg — thus he rea- 
 soned — accomplished by the nephew of the Emperor, 
 in the name of liberty and the sovereignty of the peo- 
 ple, would influence all minds. Once master of the 
 city, a national guard would immediately be organized, 
 which would be sufficient to man the fortress. The 
 same day on which this great revohition should be 
 accomplished, every thing would be arranged for the 
 march to Paris, on the morrow, with ten thousand 
 men, as many camp followers, one hundred pieces of 
 cannon, and a supply of arms for the population on 
 
190 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 the route. The example of Strasbourg would carry 
 with it all Alsace and its garrisons. The line of march 
 would be through |Yosges, Lorraine, and Champagne. 
 What grand reminiscences would be awakened ! What 
 resources secured by the patriotism of these provinces I 
 Metz would obey the impulse received from Stras- 
 bourg. Nancy, and her garrisons would be surprised, 
 on the fourth day, before the government would have 
 time to act ! The national cause, as Prince Louis Na- 
 poleon seemed to regard his scheme, would be strength- 
 ened every day! Proclamations made to excite the 
 sympathies of the people would penetrate everywhere; 
 they would spread over the north, the west, the middle 
 and the south of France ! Besancon, Lyons, Grenoble, 
 would feel the electrifying effect of this grand revolu- 
 tion ! The government would be powerless ! It would 
 be unable to retard, much less to arrest, the progress 
 of a movement begun with such energy! To this 
 army of citizens and soldiers, enthusiastic for liberty 
 and glory, it could only oppose regiments shaken by 
 the contagious example of revolt! Paris and Prance 
 would acknowledge Louis Napoleon as their liberator, 
 and by so doing enable him to become their tyrant! 
 So ran the reveries of the rash and audacious dreamer. 
 His presence in France, and the magic of the name 
 he bore, were to accomplish all! Strasbourg and all 
 France must yield to him! "If the present govern- 
 ment, (said he to the friends to whom he communi- 
 cated his projects and his hopes,) has committed suffi- 
 cient faults to make another revolution desirable; if 
 the government of Napoleon has left sufficiently deep 
 roots in the nation, I have but to appear before the 
 
LOOTS NAPOLEOH AT 6TBASBOUBG. 191 
 
 &tmj and people, to remind them of their former pros- 
 perity and glory, of their present humiliation and 
 grievances, and they will join me. France wishes for 
 national institutions as representatives of their rights ; 
 for a man or a family to represent her interests. She 
 wishes for the popular principles of the republic, ac- 
 companied by stability — for the national dignity, the 
 order, the internal prosperity, but not the conquests of 
 the empire ; she might desire the external alliance of 
 the restoration, but what can she wish or hope for from 
 the present government? My ambition is to appear 
 with the most popular and glorious banners ; to rally 
 all that is generous and noble in every party around 
 me; to restore the national dignity without war, liberty 
 without anarchy, stability without despotism. To suc- 
 ceed in this plan I must be acknowledged and assisted 
 by the people, for from the people alone proceed rea- 
 son and justice." It is by no means certain that the 
 prince argued unwisely. 
 
 At Baden, Louis Napoleon became acquainted with 
 several young officers, who declared themselves ready 
 to join him. One evening, after one of those brilliant 
 parties, so customary at fashionable watering places, 
 he mounted his horse, and accompanied by a friend, 
 soon arrived at Strasbourg. In a room hired for the 
 purpose, fifteen officers met that night. "When they 
 heard that Louis Napoleon was about to appear before 
 them, they exclaimed enthusiastically : "The Emperor's 
 nephew shall be welcome ! He has nothing to fear ; 
 he has confided in us; we would defend him at the 
 peril of our own lives!" The prince then made his 
 appearance : " Gentlemen, (jsaid hej) I have confided 
 
192 10UIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 in your honor ; I have perhaps risked my life in order 
 to see you. I wish to learn from yourselves what are 
 your feelings and opinions. If the nation views the 
 present state of the country as I do, I think I can be 
 useful. The great man is no more, but our cause is 
 the same as in his time. The eagle, that sacred em- 
 blem, represents, as in 1815, the rights of the people 
 and the national glory. I act not from personal ambi- 
 tion, therefore tell me if I am wrong, and although 
 exile with its cares and sorrows has weighed heavily 
 upon me, I will resign myself to living in a foreign 
 land, until happier days." "No!" exclaimed the as- 
 sembled officers, "you shall not languish in exile; we 
 have long sympathized with you ; we will restore you 
 to your country." 
 
 The ardor of the conspirators went on increasing, 
 and, had they not possessed resolution and daring of 
 their own, there was a woman among them who would 
 have set them a bold example. Madame Gordon, the 
 daughter of a captain of the imperial guards, and 
 brought up in the worship of the Emperor, appeared 
 at Strasbourg and Baden as a professional singer. 
 Louis Napoleon became her ardent admirer. She was 
 informed of all his projects, and immediately plunged 
 into the conspiracy with the characteristic impetuosity 
 of female zeal. Young, beautiful, and fascinating, this 
 ambitious lady speedily acquired great influence 
 among the conspirators, and urged on the development 
 of the plot. 
 
 On the 25th of October, 1836, Louis Napoleon, who 
 had returned from Baden to Arenemberg, again left 
 his mother, under the pretext of joining a hunting 
 
INTERVIEW WITH COLONEL VAUDKEY. 193 
 
 party. A rendezvous had been assigned in the grand 
 duchy of Baden to some important personages on 
 whom he counted. He found no one at the place ap- 
 pointed, and after waiting three days, resolved to set 
 out for Strasbourg, where he arrived, October 28th. 
 The next day he had an interview with Colonel Vau- 
 drey, which would have made a man of a more patient 
 temperament hesitate. The colonel urged in objection, 
 the rashness of the enterprise ; the number of chances 
 against it ; the extreme uncertainty of success among 
 so many hostile passions, and so many interests prompt 
 to take alarm ; and also the impropriety of exposing 
 the Emperor's nephew to such great dangers. These 
 prudential counsels had the more weight, coming from 
 a man full of courage, who had been often proved in 
 battle ; but Louis Napoleon thought he had gone too 
 far to retreat, and the colonel gave way. The Prince 
 then showed him a paper in which he agreed to confer 
 an income of $2000 to each of Vaudrey's children, but 
 the incorruptible old veteran indignantly tore up the 
 document, exclaiming, — "I give my blood, I do not 
 sell it!" Colonel Vaudrey was commander of the 
 regiment in which the Emperor had made his first 
 campaign, and which at a later period, (on his return 
 from Elba,) proud of the recollection of this circum- 
 stance, welcomed him with transports at Grenoble, and 
 formed his escort in his triumphal march to Paris. 
 
 Louis Napoleon found a still more important, al- 
 though a less distinguished auxiliary, in the person of 
 M. de Persigny. With a quick and easy wit, clever, 
 energetic and bold, and with a mind full of resources, 
 
 M. de Persigny was at once the directing intelligence 
 9 
 
194 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 and the acting agent of the adventures to which he 
 had devoted himself. Diplomatic by instinct rather 
 than by education, he wove the thread of the conspir- 
 acy with consummate ability, and in a manner to leave 
 him free to impress it with whatever direction he 
 thought best. Somewhat of a flatterer, flattery with 
 him was only a means of ruling, and leading the self- 
 will and vanity of men, as with a chain of flowers, 
 much stronger than a chain of iron. A conspirator by 
 disposition and upon calculation, an adventure had 
 irresistible attractions for him. Devoid of enthusiasm 
 or passion, he enlisted himself rather in the fortunes 
 of the man than for the man himself, or his cause. 
 Cool and impassible in the face of danger, no peril 
 could deter or stop him. "With a forethought which 
 prepared all the combinations, and a boldness intimi- 
 dated by nothing, he was the most active man in the 
 ■conspiracy. 
 
 Other actors, of secondary importance, were grouped 
 around theBe leaders, who risked not only their own 
 lives, but the repose of society, in their hazardous ex- 
 ploit. Madame Gordon^ in the character of a public 
 Singer at Strasbourg, had drawn many of these around 
 her as admirers, and, making their adherence to the 
 plot for the elevation of Louis Napoleon, the condition 
 ton which they were to receive her smiles, had involved 
 them in the conspiracy. 
 
 The 30th of November, 1836, was the day fixed for 
 the commencement of the insurrection. It was agreed 
 that the first thing requisite was to win a considerable 
 armed force over to the Prince's side, so that the feel- 
 ings of the inhabitants of Strasbourg might not be 
 
NIGHT BEFOEE THE mSTTERECTION. 195 
 
 epressed by the authorities. After some discussion, 
 it was decided that the Prince should present himself 
 to the 4th regiment of artillery, at the Austerlitz bar- 
 racks, and from thence proceed to the Finkmatt bar- 
 rack, where the 46th regiment of the line was quartered. 
 If these two regiments joined him, all military difficul- 
 ties were at once at an end. The Prince's proclamations 
 would be instantly printed and posted up ; the authori- 
 ties would be arrested, and it would be impossible to 
 put a stop to this popular movement. If, on the other 
 hand, the 46th would not join the Prince, those officers 
 who were devoted to him would assemble the 3d regi- 
 ment of artillery, and the Prince would then have been 
 master of a force superior to any that could have been 
 opposed to him. 
 
 Rooms were rented in a private house, at a short 
 distance from the Austerlitz barracks. Thither Louis 
 Napoleon repaired on the evening of the 29th of Octo- 
 ber. A message was then sent to those officers upon 
 whom he could rely. They came, successively, toward 
 three o'clock, and his rooms were soon crowded. He 
 now recapitulated his plans, and the means he pos- 
 sessed of executing them, informed every one of what 
 he would be called upon to do in the morning, and 
 then read his proclamations aloud. At 6 o'clock in 
 the morning Colonel Yaudrey was to repair to the 
 Austerlitz barrack. The Prince exclaimed, "My poor 
 mother, I have deceived her! She believes that I am 
 with my cousin. She must learn from myself what 
 may be my fate." He then wrote two hasty letters, in 
 one of which he informed his mother of the success of 
 his enterprise ; in the other he said, " I have fallen, 
 
\96 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 mother, but in a noble cause. Do not weep ; do not 
 blame any one; nothing but my own convictions could 
 have induced me to act as I have done ; I have been 
 influenced by no one ; when I crossed the Rhine I was 
 prepared for all." He was evidently moved as he gave 
 the letters to one who stood near him, saying, "If I am 
 well received by the first regiment before which I pre- 
 sent myself, we are certain of success; therefore let 
 the first letter be instantly dispatched to my mother. 
 If I fall, send the other ; it will be my farewell." The 
 tears started to his eyes as he spoke, but as the sound 
 of the trumpet was heard at that moment, he con- 
 quered his emotion, and recovered that composure 
 which did not desert him during all the events of that 
 day. " This is a solemn moment, (said he, as he rose ;) 
 we are about commencing a great enterprise; if it suc- 
 ceeds, the benedictions of our country will be our re- 
 ward ; if it fails, the world will not find words strong 
 enough to depict the folly of our attempt ; but we will 
 bear that with resignation. "We will remember the 
 long sufferings of the Emperor at St. Helena. "We 
 shall fall in a great cause, and the French nation will 
 pity us." 
 
 In the mean time, the soldiers of Colonel Yaudrey's 
 regiment, aroused at an unusual hour by the sound of 
 the trumpet, hastened down to the court-yard of their 
 barracks, anxiously inquiring what had happened. 
 They were ordered to stand in two rows on each side 
 of the court, so that every man might see all that was 
 to take place. The Prince, having been informed that 
 the regiment was assembled, hastened to the scene of 
 action. A movement of curiosity was visible when 
 
ADDRESS TO THE SOLDIERS. 1$T 
 
 Louis' Napoleon made his appearance. He advanced 
 toward Colonel Vaudrey, who, putting his hand on his 
 sword, exclaimed, "Soldiers, a great revolution is about 
 commencing ! You behold here before you the nephew 
 of the Emperor Napoleon. He comes to reconquer 
 the rights of the people : the people and the army may 
 place full dependence upon him. It is around him 
 that all who love the glory and the liberty of France 
 ought to gather themselves. Soldiers, may the nephew 
 of the Emperor count upon you?" 
 
 This speech was received with loud cries of "Vive 
 Napoleon! Vive l'Empereur!" When silence was 
 restored, Louis Napoleon addressed them as follows : 
 "Soldiers! having resolved to conquer or to die for the 
 liberty of the French nation, I was anxious that yours 
 should be the first regiment before which I should 
 appear, for we are united by strong ties. It was in 
 your regiment that my uncle, the Emperor, first served; 
 it was with you that he distinguished himself at the 
 siege of Toulon ; it was your brave regiment that re- 
 ceived him at Grenoble, on his return from the island 
 of Elba. Soldiers! new destinies are in store for you! 
 To you the glory of commencing a great enterprise! 
 your's is the honor of being the first to salute the eagle 
 of Austerlitz and of Wagram." Here the Prince seized 
 the eagle borne by one of his officers, and, holding it 
 up to the regiment, exclaimed, "This is the symbol of 
 glory; may it be also that of liberty! During fifteen 
 years it lead our fathers to victory ; during fifteen 
 years it glittered upon every battle-fielS, it towered 
 above every capital of continental Europe. Soldiers, 
 rally around this noble banner! I confide it to your. 
 
198 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 honor and to your courage. Let us march together 
 against the traitors and the oppressors of our country, 
 crying, ' Vive la France ! vive la liberty ! ' " 
 
 This speech was received with acclamations. Many 
 of the inhabitants, attracted by the noise, joined them- 
 selves, in crowds, to the retinue, and mingled their 
 shouts with those of the soldiers. Joy and hope 
 beamed on every face. The first steps to be taken 
 were the arrest of the civil authorities and the general 
 in command of the fortress. While some were dis- 
 patched to the residences of the magistrates, Louis 
 Napoleon proceeded to the quarters of General Yoirol. 
 Approaching him, the Prince said — "General, I come 
 to you as a friend. I should be much grieved to raise 
 our old tri-colored flag, without having the aid of a 
 brave soldier like yourself. The garrison is on my 
 side — will you not follow me?" The general declin- 
 ing to join the movement, was put under arrest. After 
 this the troops were set in motion, but owing to an 
 error were led in a wrong direction. This created 
 much confusion. The officer intrusted with the distri- 
 bution of the proclamations, explanatory of the move- 
 ment, had failed to perform that duty, and it became 
 impossible to restore order, for the people were not 
 informed of the object of the insurrection, nor by whom 
 it was conducted. As the Prince was about to address 
 a large body of troops, he was interrupted by a dis- 
 turbance which arose at the other extremity of the 
 regiment. A Colonel Taillandier had just arrived, and 
 on being tol3 that the Emperor's nephew was there 
 with the 4th regiment, he could not believe such extra- 
 ordinary intelligence, and his surprise was so great 
 
ABREST OF LOUIS NAPOLEON. 199 
 
 that he preferred attributing it to a vulgar ambition on 
 the part of Colonel Vaudrey, rather than to credit 
 the movement on behalf of the Prince. "Soldiers! 
 (he exclaimed,) you are deceived! the man who ex- 
 cites your enthusiasm can only be an adventurer and 
 an impostor." An officer of his staff cried out at the 
 same time, "It is not the Emperor's nephew; it is the 
 nephew of Colonel Vaudrey ; I know him." Absurd 
 as was this announcement, it flew like lightning from 
 mouth to mouth, and began to change the disposition 
 of the regiment, which a moment before had been so 
 favorable. Great numbers of the soldiers, believing 
 themselves the dupes of an unworthy deception, be- 
 came furious. Colonel Taillandier assembled them, 
 and caused the gates of the barrack yard to be closed ; 
 while, on the other hand, the officers devoted to the 
 Prince gave orders to have the drums beaten to bring 
 forward the soldiers who had embraced the cause of 
 Louis Napoleon. The space they occupied was so con- 
 fined that the regiments became, as it were, confounded 
 together, and the tumult was frightful. From moment 
 to moment the confusion increased, and the officers of 
 the same cause no longer recognized each other, as all 
 parties wore the same uniform. Muskets were charged, 
 and bayonets and sabers flashed in the air, but no blow 
 was struck, as each feared to wound a friend. In the 
 midst of the confusion Louis Napoleon became sepa- 
 rated from his adherents, and hurried into the midst of 
 those who doubted his identity. There, after barely 
 escaping the bayonets of the indignant soldiery, he 
 was arrested. His friends, finding that any further 
 resistance was useless, yielded to the same fate. In 
 
200 tnnis tstapoleon. 
 
 the mean time the magistrates had been placed under 
 arrest, and the two regiments in the other part of the 
 town had enthusiastically pronounced in favor of Louis 
 Napoleon, and were proceeding to join him, when they 
 heard of his arrest. This intelligence, with the reports 
 which were in circulation as to the identity of Louis 
 Napoleon, prevented them from acting decisively in 
 his behalf. To still further embarrass and paralyze the 
 friends of the Prince, it was also reported through all 
 parts of the city that the insurrection was one in favor 
 of the restoration of Charles X. — a movement for 
 which they had no sympathy. 
 
 Louis Napoleon was placed as a prisoner in the cita- 
 del which, an hour before, he had flattered himself 
 with the hope of commanding. General Yoirol treated 
 him with much kindness. " Prince, (said he,) when I 
 was your prisoner, I could find none but hard words to 
 use toward you : now that you are mine I have none 
 but expressions of consolation to offer you." But after- 
 ward he was treated with the utmost rigor by a Mon- 
 sieur Lebel, one of the creatures of the king. The 
 Prince was not even permitted to open his window, to 
 breathe the pure air, in a prison that stood in a circle 
 of loaded muskets and drawn swords. But this exces- 
 sive cruelty was of short duration, for in a few days he 
 was removed to Paris. 
 
 As Prince Napoleon had every reason to suppose 
 that he would be brought to trial before the house of 
 Peers, he busied himself in drawing up his defense, 
 which was found unfinished in his prison. It ran thus : 
 
 "Gentlemen: — I do not intend to defend my life! 
 I knew that I risked it when I crossed the French 
 
DEFENSE OF LOUIS NAPOLEON. 201 
 
 frontier, but I am anxious to defend my honor and my 
 rights. Yes, gentlemen, my rights! 
 
 "After the revolution of 1830, I requested per- 
 mission to return to France as a private citizen. I 
 was repulsed. I desired to be allowed to serve as a 
 common soldier. No notice was taken of this request. 
 I have been treated as a pretender, {aspirant) I have 
 acted as one ! 
 
 " Do not believe, however, that mine was only the 
 paltry ambition to fill a throne. I aspired to some- 
 thing higher. I wished to assemble a national Con- 
 gress, which, consulting the wishes of each man, 
 would have made French laws, without borrowing 
 constitutions that are not suited to us, from other 
 countries. The Emperor acconqulished his mission; 
 he prepared the nation for liberty, by introducing the 
 principle of equality in their customs, and- by makiDg 
 merit the only means of rising. Every government 
 that has succeeded that of the Emperor has been ex- 
 clusive ; one rested wholly on the nobility and clergy, 
 another on a bourgeoise aristocracy, a third solely on 
 the working classes. The government of the Emperor 
 rested on the people, as a general on his army. The 
 government of Napoleon received the popular sanction 
 four times. In 1804, the French nation recognized 
 the hereditary rights of the Imperial family by four 
 millions of votes. Since that period the nation has 
 not been consulted. As the eldest of the Emperor's 
 nephews, I was justified in considering myself, not as 
 the representative of the empire, (for within twenty 
 years many ideas have changed) but as the representa- 
 tive of the sovereignty of the nation. I have always 
 considered the eagle as the emblem of the rights of 
 the people, not of those of a family. 
 
 "Animated by these ideas, and by the justice of my 
 cause, I exclaimed, 'Those princes who consider them- 
 selves of the Right Divine can find men to die for 
 them, in order to re-establish abuses and privileges : 
 and must I, whose name recalls so much glory and 
 liberty, must I die in exile?' 'No!' answered my 
 J 9* 
 
202 10TTIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 brave companions in misfortune, 'we will conquer 
 together in the cause of the French nation, or perish 
 M r ith youl' Do not suppose that it was my aim to 
 imitate the last of the Roman emperors, who was 
 raised one day on the bucklers of the soldiery, and 
 overthrown on the next. I availed myself of the aid 
 of the army in attempting a revolution, as this mode 
 of action offered the most chances of success ; and 
 besides, I was anxious to avoid the confusion and 
 tumult that usually attend on social conflicts. I made 
 a great mistake in the execution of my project, but it 
 is little to the honor of our old soldiers that their 
 hearts did not bound at the sight of the eagle, the 
 symbol of their past glory. They once more be- 
 held that banner which they had planted from the 
 Tagus to the Moskwa — that banner which they had 
 watered with their blood — * * * they beheld it, 
 and they trampled it beneath their feet ! ! ! They told 
 me of their new oaths, forgetting that it was the 
 presence of one million two hundred thousand for- 
 eigners which had released them from that they had 
 taken to the Imperial banner. A principle that has 
 been annulled by force can only be re-established by 
 force. I believed that I had a mission to fulfill ; I 
 have acted accordingly." 
 
 Contrary to general expectation, instead of bringing 
 the Prince to trial, the government secretly«determined 
 to send him to the United States. " On the evening of 
 the ninth of November," says Louis Napoleon, in a 
 letter to his mother, "I was informed that I was to 
 be removed to another place of confinement. On 
 leaving my room, I found General Voirol and the 
 Prefect waiting for me. They led me to the carriage 
 without telling me whither I was to be conducted. 
 I insisted on remaining with my companions in mis- 
 fortune, but I found that the government had decided 
 otherwise. On reaching the hotel of the Prefecture, 
 
LETTER TO HOETENSE. 203 
 
 I saw two post-chaises. I was placed in one, with M. 
 Guinat, the commander of the military district of 
 the Seine, and Lieutenant Thibonlot ; in the other were 
 four non-commissioned officers. I cannot describe the 
 pain I felt at learning that I was to be separated from 
 my co-accused ; that I was to abandon men who had 
 risked their lives -for me ; that I was not to be allowed 
 to explain my ideas, to defend my intentions. The 
 two officers who had accompanied me had served in 
 the time of the Empire, and were intimately ac- 
 quainted with M. Parquin ; I might have imagined 
 that. I was traveling with friends. At two o'clock 
 on the morning of the 11th, we arrived at Paris, and 
 alighted at the Prefecture of Police, where I was most 
 kindly received by M. Delessert. He told me that you 
 had come to France to implore the king's clemency 
 in my behalf, and that I was to set out in two hours 
 for L' Orient, from whence I was to sail for the United 
 States." 
 
 Before leaving Paris, Louis Napoleon was allowed 
 to write the following letter to Queen Hortense : 
 
 "My Dear Mothee: — Tour tenderness is proved 
 by the step you have taken. You thought only of 
 the danger in which I was placed, and not of my 
 honor, which compelled me to share the fate of my 
 companions in misfortune. It gives me the greatest 
 pain to be obliged to abandon men whom I have led 
 to ruin, when my presence and my testimony might 
 have influenced the jury in their favor. I have 
 written to the king to entreat him to show mercy 
 to them ; it is the only favor I ask. I am about leav- 
 ing France for America, but, my dear mother, if you 
 do not wish to increase my affliction, do not follow me, 
 I entreat you. 
 
204 
 
 LOUTS NAPOLEON. 
 
 "Will you see that the prisoners of Strasbourg are 
 in want of nothing. Take care of the sons of Colonel 
 Vaudrey, who are at Paris, with their mother. I 
 should be resigned to my fate if I knew that the lives 
 of my companions would be spared ; but to feel that I 
 had been the cause of the death of those brave men 
 would give me everlasting pain. 
 
 "Farewell, dearest mother. Return to Arenemberg. 
 Do not attempt to join me in America ; it would make 
 me too unhappy. Farewell." 
 
 The Prince was so anxious about the men from 
 whom he had been separated, that, previous to his de- 
 parture, he wrote to several other persons concerning 
 them. One of his letters was quoted, at the trial of 
 the prisoners of Strasbourg, by their counsel, who 
 exclaimed — " Do you think it proper, do you think it 
 generous, thus to expatiate on the faults of the Prince 
 in hia absence. If, by means of the press, the singular 
 language you have held should reach his ear, would he 
 not have cause to complain ; would he not exclaim : 
 'Your- government would not allow me to appear be- 
 fore its tribunals ; and now that, contrary to my 
 wishes, I have submitted to its orders, now that I 
 have left my country, the instruments of the law are 
 allowed to calumniate me. It is the object of the 
 government to ruin me in the opinion of the French, 
 whose confidence and esteem are to me invaluable. 
 Let such clemency be revoked ! I will not accept it 
 at such a price. Death is a thousand times preferable 
 to life with dishonor.' What generous mind could 
 misunderstand this noble language? I am happy in 
 being able to give France a more favorable opinion of 
 Louis Napoleon. He was suddenly removed from 
 
LETTER TO HIS COUNSEL. 205 
 
 prison. He was taken to Paris, where he was allowed 
 to pass a couple of hours to rest, after the fatigues of 
 the journey, and to prepare for a long voyage. How 
 did the noble young man employ the time thus allotted 
 him ? He could not forget that he had left his com- 
 panions under the weight of a terrible accusation. He 
 began a letter dated Paris, November 11th, but he 
 had not time to conclude it immediately. The latter 
 part of the letter bears the date of L' Orient, Novem- 
 ber 15th, for he would not put his foot on board the 
 vessel, which was to take him far from France, with- 
 out having done all he could to defend those who 
 had compromised themselves for him. This letter, 
 addressed to Odillon Barrot, ran thus : 
 
 "Sir: — Notwithstanding my desire to remain with 
 my companions in misfortune, and to share their fate ; 
 notwithstanding my protestations on this subject, 
 the king, from a kindly motive, doubtless, has or- 
 dered that 1 should be taken to L' Orient, and from 
 thence to the United States. Although much touched 
 by the king's generosity, I am deeply afflicted at 
 leaving my companions, for I believe that my presence 
 at the bar, and my testimony would have influenced 
 the jury in their favor, and shed light on many im- 
 portant circumstances. As I am deprived of the 
 consolation of being useful to the men of whose ruin I 
 am the cause, I must confide to a lawyer what I am 
 not allowed to tell the jury. We are all guilty for 
 having taken up arms against the government, but I 
 am the most so, for I had long meditated effecting a 
 revolution ; I snatched my companions from an honor- 
 able position in society, and induced them to risk all 
 the dangers that must always attend a popular com- 
 motion. I seduced them by speaking to them of all 
 that was most likely to move the heart of French- 
 men. They told me of their oaths. I reminded them 
 
206 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 that in 1815 they had sworn fidelity to Napoleon IL 
 and his dynasty. 
 
 "The government has acted generously toward me. 
 It has considered that my being an exile, my love for 
 France, and my relationship to the Emperor, were 
 excuses for me. 
 
 "Can the jury do otherwise than follow the road 
 pointed out by the government ? " 
 
 On the 21st of November, Louis Napoleon em- 
 barked on the frigate which was to bear him to the 
 American continent. The captain had sealed orders to 
 sail first to Rio de Janeiro, and afterward to proceed 
 to New York. The voyage occupied five months, and 
 the Prince did not arrive in New York until toward 
 the end of April, 1837. During the voyage he wrote 
 many letters to his mother, in one of which (dated 
 December 14, 1836) the following passage occurs : 
 
 " Two months ago I wished for nothing except never 
 again to behold Switzerland ; now, if I were to follow 
 my own inclinations, I should have no other wish than 
 to find myself again in my little chamber in the midst 
 of that fine country, in which I fancy I ought to be 
 so happy! Alas! when one has a soul that feels 
 deeply, one is destined to pass one's days oppressed 
 with the sense of inactivity, or in the struggles of 
 
 Eainful sensations. When some months ago I went to 
 ring home Matilda, on re-entering the park I found a 
 tree which had been blown down by the tempest, and 
 I said to myself, our marriage will be broken off by 
 fate. That which I vaguely guessed has become real- 
 ized. Have I then exhausted all the happiness which 
 was destined for me?" 
 
 The lady to whom the Prince makes the above allu- 
 sion, was the daughter of Jerome Bonaparte, and was af- 
 terward married to a Eussian prince. Her extraordin- 
 ary beauty, her manifold graces and accomplishments 
 
A1T0THEE BEVOLtJTIONABY PLOT. 207 
 
 fully justified the choice which Louis Napoleon had 
 made. She was rather small, but perfectly formed. 
 Her head was beautifully shaped, and thrown into fine 
 relief by her luxuriant brown hair. Her eyes were 
 large and sparkling, and the features classically regu- 
 lar. The expression of her face was most captivating, 
 and revealed an elevation of character that charmed 
 at first sight. Her manners were full of spirit and 
 elegance. Her voice was clear and ringing. She 
 conversed with great fluency and vivacity, and her 
 language was well chosen and pointed. When she 
 subsequently took up her residence at Paris, she 
 became a great favorite in fashionable society. 
 
 It happened by a singular coincidence, that on the 
 same day Louis Napoleon made his attempt at Stras- 
 bourg, some soldiers of a hussar regiment, at Vend6me, 
 were forming the plan of a mutiny, the object of 
 which was to proclaim a republic. The plot, de- 
 nounced before the hour appointed for its execution, 
 was easily stifled. It had been conceived by a brigadier 
 named Bruyant, a resolute man, and one of no com- 
 mon stamp. Being arrested, he escaped from his 
 guards, and swam across the Loire. But his accom- 
 plices not having been able to imitate his example} he 
 was unwilling to escape the fate that awaited them, and 
 returned and surrendered himself a prisoner. 
 
 The government of Louis Philippe was in consterna- 
 tion. A long series of conspiracies, riots and disorders 
 had occui'red, in which the unpopularity and weakness 
 of the king were displayed in a glaring and dangerous 
 manner. Every device was put in practice to cloak 
 the important nature of the events. The ministerial 
 
208 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 journals sneered at the puerility of Louis Napoleon's 
 enterprise, which they called a mere hair-brained freak, 
 the agents of the government received orders to over- 
 look a large number of the guilty ; the authorities re- 
 ported that only a small number of soldiers had taken 
 part in the movement, and only three subordinate offi- 
 cers were deprived of their commissions ; General 
 Voirol was raised to the dignity of a peer of France, 
 and thanks were given to the garrison at Strasbourg 
 for its fidelity to the dynasty of Louis Philippe ! 
 
 The accomplices of Louis Napoleon were brought to 
 trial while he was on his voyage to the United States. 
 Seven only appeared — Colonel Yaudrey, Parquin, De 
 Bruc, Laity, De Querelles, De Gricourt, and Madame 
 Gordon. The trial was one of extraordinary interest. 
 The rank of the accused, most of them being military 
 men ; the glorious past days of some ; the youth and 
 spirit of the others ; the ardent sympathy in favor of 
 the revolt — all conspired to render the spectacle im- 
 pressive. The demeanor of the prisoners corresponded 
 with the interest they excited. Parquin expressed; 
 freely the attachment he bore to the memory of the 
 Emperor and to his family. Madame Gordon was en- 
 dowed with so much beauty and fiery eloquence that 
 she won the sympathy of all. Querelles, De Gricourt 
 and De Bruc sustained their examination almost with 
 exultation. Colonel Vaudrey maintained a firmness 
 and dignity becoming his high reputation. But none 
 of -the prisoners excited stronger interest than Lieuten- 
 ant Laity. His countenance was serious and earnest. 
 In throwing himself into an enterprise in which there 
 was nothing but danger on all hands, he had felt that 
 
TBIAL OF THE PRISONEES AT STBA6BOUBG. 209 
 
 he had given pledges to death. Beaten, he refused to 
 defend himself, and was only prevailed on to do so by 
 being informed how far such a determination was es- 
 sential to the safety of his companions in misfortune. 
 In the presence of the judges he was calm and indom- 
 itable : he expressed himself nobly, without art or 
 effort, and concisely like a soldier. "I am a republi- 
 can, (said he,) and I followed Louis Napoleon only be- 
 cause I found in him democratic opinions." The depo- 
 sitions of the witnesses gave occasion to various inci- 
 dents that added to the impression produced by the 
 whole affair. Colonel Talliandier having related, that 
 in arresting Commandant Parquin, he had torn off his 
 general's epaulettes, the latter replied — " It is very true 
 that he insulted me, and he could do so with impunity: 
 I was his prisoner." 
 
 In the city the excitement was continually increas- 
 ing. The whole town rung with loudly expressed 
 wishes for the acquittal of the prisoners. The senti- 
 ments of Lieutenant Laity were vociferously applauded. 
 The republicans were eager to have the authority of 
 the reigning king weakened — others desired merely 
 the humiliation and defeat of the ministry. But all 
 agreed in masking the real ground of their desire for 
 an acquittal, by appealing to the principle of equity. 
 It was injustice, they argued, to punish the accomplices 
 of the Prince when he had been sent beyond the reach 
 of punishment. At every step the jurors encountered 
 symptoms and expressions of feeling that could not but 
 have a contagious effect upon them. And when, on 
 the 18th of January, 1837, the verdict of acquittal was 
 rendered, the building was filled with shouts of 
 
210 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 exultation. The same enthusiasm prevailed in tl 3 
 streets. The city of Strasbourg put on the appearance oi 
 a holiday, and a sumptuous banquet was given to tne 
 released prisoners. The issue of the prosecution struck 
 the government with consternation. Louis Philippe was 
 particularly mortified by it. The evidence of conspira- 
 cies and of implacable animosity which confronted 
 Win, and which put his life and his throne in hourly 
 peril, rendered his position far from enviable. 
 
 When Louis Napoleon was sent to the United States, 
 instead of being tried for high treason, it was generally 
 believed that it was done upon his pledge not to return 
 to Europe within ten years. That Louis Philippe 
 should have been at the expense of sending him 
 away — to say nothing of this exercise of clemency — 
 without such a guarantee, either written or verbal, it is 
 difficult to believe. The fact that bis mother went to 
 Paris to intercede for him would lead to the belief that 
 some conditions must have been attached to his par- 
 don. His letter to his mother on his departure clearly 
 intimates his expectation of a long absence, and for a 
 considerable time after his arrival in the United States, 
 he had no thought of returning to the old world. He 
 was actually making preparations for an extended tour 
 ■through the "Western States, when he received the fol- 
 lowing letter from his mother, announcing her dan- 
 gerous illness, and the prospect of her speedy death. 
 
 "My, Dear Son, — I am about to undergo an opera- 
 tion which has become absolutely necessary. In case 
 it should not terminate successfully, I send you, in this 
 letter, my blessing. We shall meet again — shall we 
 not? — in a better world, where, I trust, you will come 
 at the end of a long life to rejoin me. Believe me that 
 
DEATH-BED OP HOKTENSE. 211 
 
 in quitting this world I leave nothing to regret except 
 you, and your tender affection, which has alone given 
 it any charms. It will be a consolation to you, my 
 dear son, to remember that by your attentions you 
 have rendered your mother as happy as her circum- 
 stances would permit. You will think of all my affec- 
 tion for you and take courage. Believe that the dead 
 always have an interest in what they leave below, and 
 that, assuredly, we shall all meet again. Dwell on this 
 delightful thought : it is too necessary not to be true. 
 I press you to my heart, my dear child. I am per- 
 fectly calm, and entirely resigned: still, I hope we may 
 meet again in this world. May God's will be done. 
 " Your affectionate mother, 
 
 " HoKTENSE. 
 "April 3d, 1837." 
 
 It is deserving of remark, that in this letter, Hor- 
 
 tense makes no allusion to her son's return, as a step 
 
 which he was at liberty to undertake — a step for 
 
 which, as a mother, she would naturally feel anxious, 
 
 if it could be taken without dishonor or danger. But 
 
 on hearing of the illness of his mother, Louis Napoleon 
 
 immediately embarked for London, and from thence 
 
 went to Switzerland in time to receive the last embrace 
 
 and blessing of his dying mother. A few moments 
 
 before she expired, Queen Hortense stretched out her 
 
 hand to each of the persons of her household : they 
 
 were overwhelmed with sorrow, while she was calm 
 
 and resigned. At the foot of her bed her son was on 
 
 his knees. Dr. Conneau, who had long been attached 
 
 to her person, and whose tender and assiduous care 
 
 had prolonged her life, and alleviated her sufferings, 
 
 watched anxiously the ebbing breath of his illustrious 
 
 and unfortunate patient. Profound silence reigned in 
 
 the chamber in which death was present. The queen 
 
 turned slowly toward her son and the doctor, and said, 
 
212 LOOTS NAPOLEON. 
 
 with a feeble voice, "You are very unfortunate, my 
 children! farewell, Louis ! farewell!" Her son threw 
 himself into her arms ; she pressed him to her heart, 
 with a supernatural strength, and again, with fearful 
 vehemence, uttered a final "Adieu, adieu, adieu." 
 She fell back exhausted ; her noble figure resumed an 
 angelic serenity, and her eyelids closed. Her son 
 hung over her ; and, with a voice which he in vain 
 attempted to render calm, said, " Mother, do you know 
 me? It is your son! — your Louib! — my mother!" 
 She made an effort to speak, and to open her eyes; but 
 her hands were already cold, and her eyelids paralyzed, 
 and she could only make a feeble, almost impercep- 
 tible, movement to this earnest appeal. Her natural 
 tenderness, so true and so exalted, had already con- 
 veyed to her half-expiring heai-t the voice of her son. 
 A feeble motion of the hand which he held assured 
 him of the fact, and in an instant after, the last sigh of 
 his mother sounded upon his ears. She died on the 
 5th of October, 1837. Death gave her a tomb in her 
 native land. Her remains were deposited in the vil- 
 lage church at Kuel, by the side of those of her mother, 
 the Empress Josephine, that noble woman, who was 
 neither elated by the grandeur of the imperial throne, 
 nor depressed, when, by an iniquitous political divorce, 
 she was compelled to descend from it. 
 
 By her will, executed on the 3d of April, 1837, 
 Queen Hortense — as she continued to be called long 
 after she ceased to reign — bequeathed various legacies 
 to friends and persons about her establishment, leav- 
 ing, of course, the bulk of her property to her son. It 
 concludes as follows : " I wish that my husband may 
 
LOOTS NAPOLEON AT ARENEMBERG. 213 
 
 erect some memorial to my memory, and that he 
 should know that my greatest regret was that I could 
 not render him happy. I have no political advice to 
 give my son ; I know that he is aware of his position, 
 and of all the duties which his name imposes upon 
 him. I forgive all sovereigns with whom I have had 
 relations of friendship, their injustice toward me. I 
 forgive all persons for the falsity of the reports which 
 they have constantly circulated about me. I forgive 
 certain Frenchmen, to whom I have had opportunities 
 of being useful, for the calumnies with which they 
 have loaded me by way of requital. I forgive those 
 who have believed these statements without investiga- 
 ting them, and I hope to survive for a little while in the 
 memory of my fellow countrymen. I thank all those 
 who are around me, as also my servants, for their 
 attention, and I hope they will not forget ray memory." 
 After the death of his mother, Louis Napoleon con- 
 tinued to reside at Arenemberg, where he seemed for 
 a time to confine himself to the study of military tac- 
 tics and political economy. But in 1838 he induced 
 Lieutenant Laity, who had been involved in the Stras- 
 bourg affair, to write a pamphlet justifying the attempt 
 which was then made to subvert the throne of Louis 
 Philippe. His publication was looked upon by the 
 government as the manifestation of _a new conspiracy, 
 and the luckless lieutenant was arrested. When he 
 was upon the eve of his trial, Louis Napoleon wrote 
 him a letter of condolence, so injudiciously expressed, 
 that it could not but aggravate the case of the person 
 in whose possession it should be found. In that letter 
 Louis Napoleon declared that he had partizans every 
 
214 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 where in France, from the workshop of tne artizan to 
 the council-chamber of the king. He closed by say- 
 ing — "But if one day the movement of parties should 
 overthrow the existing powers, (and the experience of 
 the last fifty years authorizes the belief,) and if, accus- 
 tomed, as they have been for the last twenty-throe 
 years, to despise authority, they should undermine all 
 the foundations of the social edifice, — then, perhaps, 
 the name of Napoleon, may prove an anchor of safety 
 for all that is noble and truly patriotic in France." 
 This indiscreet letter aided in the condemnation of 
 Laity to five years imprisonment. 
 
 The French government, to whom the presence of 
 Louis Napoleon in Switzerland occasioned great unea- 
 siness, required his expulsion from the country. This 
 being refused, a considerable army was sent toward the 
 Swiss frontier, to enforce compliance. The Swiss, on 
 their part, made preparations for resistance, and for 
 the defense of their territory. A painful and unequal 
 conflict was in prospect, when the Prince prudently 
 put an end to further trouble by voluntarily withdraw- 
 ing from Switzerland. The following passages occur 
 in his communication to the government announcing 
 his determination : 
 
 K A month ago, Switzerland, by her energetic pro- 
 tests, and now by the decision of her great councils, at 
 this time assembled, has shown that she was and is ready 
 to make the greatest sacrifice for the maintenance of 
 her dignity and rights. She has done her duty as an 
 independent nation : I know how to do mine, and to 
 remain faithful to the voice of honor. I may be perse- 
 cuted, but never degraded. The French government, 
 having declared that the refusal of the Diet to yield 
 to its. demands would be the signal of a conflagration, 
 
LOUIS NATOLEON .11* E^PLAND. 215. 
 
 of which Switzerland would become the victim ; I 
 have no alternative but to quit a country, when ray* 
 presence is made the cause of such unjust preten- 
 sions, and would be made the excuse for such great 
 misfortunes. 
 
 "In quitting, voluntarily, for the present, the only 
 country in Europe where 1 have met with support and 
 protection, and which has now become dear to me for 
 so many reasons, I hope to prove to the Swiss people, 
 that I was worthy of those marks of esteem ana affec- 
 tion which they have lavished upon me. 1 hope this 
 separation will not be perpetual, and that a day will 
 come, when, without compromising the interests of two 
 nations, which ought to remain friends, I shall be able 
 to return to an asylum which twenty years residence 
 and acquired rights have made, as it were, a' second 
 father-land." 
 
 Louis Napoleon then sought refuge in England, and 
 remained in London from the end of the year 1838, 
 until the month of August, 1840. During this period, 
 it is said, many of his days and nights were spent on 
 the race-course, in gambling houses, or other equally 
 disreputable places of resort, and that often his inti- 
 mates were among the least honorable members of the 
 "gay" world. Meanwhile it is asserted that he was 
 in the habit of frequently boasting, in the presence of 
 Englishmen, that he would some day be Emperor of 
 France, and that then the first thing he should do 
 would be to invade England. "I like you very well 
 as a people, (said he,) but I must wipe out Waterloo 
 and St. Helena!" 
 
 While Louis Napoleon was making his daring at- 
 tempt to restore the dynasty of the Emperor, Charles 
 X., who had been driven into exile to give place on the 
 throne of France for Louis Philippe, was dying in a 
 small town in a remote corner of the Austrian empire. 
 
216 LOTJIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 For six years he had resided, as an exile, in EDgland, 
 in Prussia, in Bohemia, and at Prague. In 1836, he 
 removed to Goritz, in Styria, one of the Austrian 
 provinces. The winter was excessively severe, and the 
 rigor of the climate seriously affected his already im- 
 paired health. He was the prey of a profound mel- 
 ancholy, and the subject of death was frequently 
 mentioned by him. " The day is not far distant, (he 
 said,) that shall witness the funeral of the poor old 
 man." On the morning of November 4, 1836, St. 
 Charles' day, he was seized with a chill during the 
 celebration of mass ; and, in the evening, when he en- 
 tered the saloon, where the members of his family were 
 assembled, with a few. who comprised his court, they 
 were filled with dismay by his aspect. His features 
 were strangely contracted ; his voice was dismally 
 sonorous ; it could no longer be doubted that death 
 was upon him. In the night his friends were called 
 around the bedside of the dying monarch. He awaited 
 with tranquillity the momentous change which was 
 about to take place, and conversed calmly on the things 
 of eternity with the Bishop of Hermopolis, who was 
 present to cheer and comfort him in his agony. His 
 family knelt down to receive his dying blessing. Lay- 
 ing his hands on their heads, he said — "God protect 
 you, my children ! "Walk in the ways of righteousness. 
 Do not forget me, and pray often for me!" In the 
 night of the 5th of November, he fell into a deep leth- 
 argy, a slight motion of the lips alone showing that he 
 still lived. Early on the morning of the 6th, all pres- 
 ent fell on their knees, and agonizing sobs burst from 
 their lips. Charles X. was dead. Five days afterward 
 
DBATH OF THE DTJKB d' ANGOULEME. 217 
 
 his corpse was carried to the Franciscan convent, 
 situated on a height at a little distance from the town. 
 There, in an ordinary sepulcher, by the feeble light of 
 a lamp, his friends were permitted, for the last time, to 
 look upon the pale features of the fallen monarch. He 
 had died at the advanced age of seventy-nine years. 
 All the reigning houses of Europe put on the mourning 
 prescribed by etiquette, one alone excepted — that of 
 his relation, Louis Philippe ! 
 
 The Duke d' Angouleme, (son of Charles X.,) who, 
 after the death of his father, was called King of France, 
 by the adherents of the Bourbons, died May 4^ 1844, 
 at Goritz. His death produced no other effect than to 
 fix the eyes of the Bourbonists more distinctly upon 
 the Duke of Bordeaux, his nephew, and son of the 
 Duchess de Berri, who was thereafter called Henry V. 
 He was a harmless character, of no marked talent, and 
 of no decided propensities. During the government 
 of Charles X. he- was contented with doing what he 
 was bid — at the Revolution of 1830 he was contented 
 with doing nothing — and during his exile he was 
 contented with being nothing. Though exiled he could 
 scarcely be called unfortunate. He had the means of 
 existence without the trouble of exertion — he had the 
 name of a prince without its resppnsibilities — and he 
 had the title of a king, without its labors, its duties, or 
 its cares. 
 
 The Emperor Napoleon, while at St. Helena, had 
 often expressed an ardent desire to be buried in France. 
 This wish was solemnly and pathetically repeated in 
 bis will. "It is my wish, (said he, after making his 
 numerous bequests,) that my ashes may repose on the. 
 
218 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 banks of the Seine, in the midst of the French people 
 whom I loved so well." The predecessors of Louis 
 Philippe had refused to request of the British govern- 
 ment permission to remove the remains of Napoleon 
 from their island tomb, for interment in France. The 
 popular feeling on the subject had grown so strong in 
 1840, that Louis Philippe considered it politic to yield 
 to the national wish, and accordingly his son, Prince 
 of Joinville, was dispatched to St. Helena to perform 
 the office of restoring the ashes of the Emperor to the 
 soil of France. When the stirring announcement rung 
 in the ears of the French, that the venerated remains of 
 Napoleon were on the sea, wafted by every breeze still 
 nearer to his idolized France, there was an upheaving 
 of the popular heart which cannot be described or even 
 appreciated by a foreigner. The energy and warmth 
 of the emotions aroused by this intelligence attested the 
 fidelity of the French heart to the memory of the Em- 
 peror. It was an event highly favorable to the views 
 of the partisans of Louis Napoleon, and they urged 
 him to undertake another expedition for the overthrow 
 of Louis Philippe. "Is it fitting," it was asked, in 
 the passionate language of many of the old followers 
 of the Emperor, " is it fitting that the corpse of Na- 
 poleon should be insulted by the presence of the 
 Bourbon family, which united with Europe in chaining 
 him alive to the rock of St. Helena; which vindic- 
 tively condemned to death his greatest marshals ; and 
 still pursues his nearest relatives in ignominious exile? 
 Is it becoming," they persisted, "that his revered ashes 
 should be touched by the profane hands of his ene- 
 mies, when, as a duty and a right, they should be 
 
LOUIS NAPOLEON AT BOULOGNE. 219 
 
 delivered up to the pious care of his relatives, for 
 those imposing ceremonies which the whole nation will 
 stand by in solemn grief to witness?" In compliance 
 with these requests, and the promptings of his own 
 restless and ambitious heart, Louis Napoleon deter- 
 mined on a second invasion of France. The regiment 
 that had declared in his favor at Strasbourg was then 
 stationed in the neighborhood of Boulogne, and accord- 
 ingly, at the latter place it was determined to under- 
 take the Revolution. Hiring a steamer, he started, 
 with sixty followers, for the coast of France. 
 
 There were but two companies of infantry quartered 
 at Boulogne, and it was soon ascertained that they 
 would zealously join the Prince. A captain, of one of 
 these companies, however, who . had received some 
 favors from the king, adhered to his allegiance, and 
 obstinately refused all the advances made to him. It 
 was then decided to have him removed to some other 
 point, and a short delay ensued in order to accomplish 
 this. Orders were finally issued, transferring him to 
 another command, and the day for his departure 
 named. Some accident prevented his going, which 
 event proved fatal to the enterprise of Louis Napoleon. 
 On the 6th of August, 1840, the day following the 
 supposed departure of the loyal captain, the Prince, 
 landed with his 6uite at sunrise just below the town, 
 and repaired instantly to the barracks. His arrival 
 was no sooner announced than every soldier rushed 
 into the court-yard, giving the wildest expression to 
 his enthusiasm. They mounted the Prince on their 
 shoulders, and bore him about in triumph. Anxious 
 to lose not a moment in escaping from Boulogne on 
 
220 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 his road to St. Omer, where the garrison awaited him, 
 Louis Napoleon endeavored to establish order, and 
 addressing a few stirring words to the troops, he bade 
 them follow him. Brandishing their arms, and ut- 
 tering the most passionate cries of devotion, they 
 obeyed his summons, and dashed toward the portal of 
 the barracks. Here the whole movement was checked 
 by the unexpected apparition of the afore-mentioned 
 officer, who had hastened to the barracks on hearing of 
 the event. His soldiers quailed at the sight of him, 
 and, drawing his sword, he began a spirited harangue. 
 The moment was critical in the extreme. Every min- 
 ute's delay was attended with imminent danger. The 
 partisans of the government were actively at work 
 assembling the National Guard, which the small force 
 on the side of the sedition was in no wise adequate to 
 meet. Advancing impetuously toward the sole object 
 in his path, the Prince addressed the contumacious 
 captain in strong terms of remonstrance ; words en- 
 sued, and in the heat of the moment the Prince drew 
 a pistol and fired at him. The shot, missing its object, 
 unhappily took effect on a poor soldier, who was at 
 that very moment shouting "Vive Napoleon HI.!" 
 
 This painful incident distressed the Prince, and 
 threw a damper over the spirits of all. A report, too, 
 was at that instant brought him, which afterward 
 turned out incorrect, that one of his principal officers 
 had abandoned his cause, and gone over to the king. 
 Growing desperate with his situation, he made an en- 
 ergetic effort to dissipate the confusion prevailing, and 
 rally the drooping courage of his troops. Their reso- 
 lution returned, and, still accompanied by the greater 
 
SECOND DEFEAT OF LOUIS NAPOLEON. 221 
 
 part, he made his way to the gates of the town. To 
 his utter discomfiture, he found them closed ; and 
 turning round, he saw himself, and a handful of men, 
 hemmed in on every side by the National Guard, 
 which, as yet, had no distinct idea whom or what 
 they were contending with. An immediate surrender 
 would have been, perhaps, the most prudent thing 
 under the circumstances, but such was not the mood of 
 the Prince. Nobly supported by the forlorn hope 
 which still clung to him, he charged with such impetu- 
 osity on the forces in his front as to scatter them in 
 every direction. Without any purpose, and bereft of 
 every chance of success, the idea occurred to him to 
 make for the column erected near the town, to the 
 Imperial army and cutting his way through all opposi- 
 tion he succeeded in reaching it. Here turning round 
 he exclaimed to his devoted followers : "It is useless 
 now to explain my projects — my cause and yours is 
 lost — there is nothing left but to die;" — and he per- 
 sisted in his mad resolution to fight till some well 
 directed ball should save him the pain of surviving his 
 defeat. In defiance of his struggles and menaces, his 
 friends seized him in their arms, and carried him off 
 to the beach, where a small boat was lying in wait 
 to convey them to the steamer, which still lingered in 
 the offing. They reached the shore in safety, and 
 the Prince was entreated to shelter himself in the 
 bottom of the skiff. They pushed off and made des- 
 perate efforts to reach the steamer, little dreaming that 
 it had already, with all its treasures, fallen into the 
 hands of the Government. They were but a few rods 
 from the shore, when the National Guard overtook 
 
222 tOUtS NAPOLEOK. 
 
 them, and, though seeing them unarmed and entirely 
 exposed, opened a galling fire upon them. Here a 
 touching incident occurred, which gave a new turn to 
 the melancholy affair, and brought it to a quick and 
 tragic consummation. A brave old soldier, Colonel Me- 
 sonan, arrived after the boat bad left, and being hotly 
 pursued, threw himself into the surf, and made great 
 exertions to overtake his friends. He had swum a 
 considerable distance, amid a shower of fire, and had 
 nearly reached them, when his strength began to fail, 
 and be was about to sink. Efforts were made to 
 rescue him, but he cried out, "Push on — save the 
 Prince, and leave me to my fate ! " Escaping from the 
 grasp of his friends, who were endeavoring to keep 
 him out of danger, the Prince, wholly regardless of 
 the risk, laid hold of his faithful old partisan, and en- 
 deavored to drag him in. In the attempt the boat was 
 upset, and the whole party were precipitated into the 
 water. This painful event, instead of awakening the 
 humanity of those on the shore, who disgraced the 
 uniform they wore, only seemed to renew £heir zeal. 
 They fired volley after volley on the unfortunate band, 
 whose numbers were rapidly diminished. Some were 
 shot, others drowned ; but the Prince succeeded in 
 reaching the shore, when he stood unshrinkingly up, 
 folded his arms, and facing his enemy, calmty awaited 
 his death-blow. Two of his friends, Count Dunin and 
 M. Faure, faithful to the last, were shot dead at his 
 side. Col. Yoisin rushed forward to protect him, and 
 received several balls in different parts of his body. 
 M. Galveni, a Pole, in attempting the same thing, fell 
 grievously wounded. The Prince himself was struck 
 
TRIAL OF LOUIS NAPOLEON 223 
 
 by two balls in the arm and in the leg, but the inju- 
 ries were not serious. "When, at length, the National 
 Guard of Boulogne saw that nearly every man was 
 down, and that the Prince, perfectly unarmed, was 
 standing a tranquil target for their murderous aim, 
 they plucked up resolution enough to approach and 
 seize him. The ensuing day he was conveyed to Paris, 
 and all along the road received the warmest marks of 
 sympathy and regret. In every garrison town the sol- 
 diers collected in groups about his carriage, and in 
 their varied expressions of grief and anger, might be 
 traced the strength of their attachment, and the bitter- 
 ness of their disappointment. 
 
 Toward the end of September, 1840, Louis Napoleon 
 and his accomplices were tried before the Court of 
 Peers, when, on the 28th of that month, he made the 
 following speech in his own defense : 
 
 "For the first time in my life it is permitted to me 
 to lift my voice in France, and to speak freely to 
 Frenchmen. 
 
 " Undaunted by the presence of the guards who 
 surround me ; in spite of the accusations which I have 
 just heard brought against me ; filled with the recollec- 
 tions of my earliest childhood, on finding myself within 
 the walls of the senate ; in the midst of you^ gentlemen, 
 whom I know, I can hardly believe that I have any 
 hope of justifying myself, and that you should be my 
 jndges. An opportunity, however, is afforded me of 
 explaining, to my fellow-countrymen my past conduct, 
 my intentions, my projects ; all that I think, all that I 
 have at heart. 
 
 "Without pride, but also without weakness, if I re- 
 call the rights deposited by the nation in the hands of 
 my family, it is solely to explain the duties which these 
 rights have imposed upon us. 
 
 "Since fifty years ago, when the principle of the 
 
224 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 sovereignty of the people was consecrated in France 
 by the most powerful Revolution which ever occurred 
 in tie history of the world, never was the national will 
 so solemnly proclaimed, never was it asserted by suf- 
 frages so numerous and so free, as on the occasion 
 when it adopted the constitutions of the empire. 
 
 "The nation has never revoked that grand act of 
 its sovereignty, and the Emperor has declared it — 
 'Whatever has been done without its authority is 
 illegal.' 
 
 "At the same time, do not allow yourselves to be- 
 lieve that, led away by the impulses of personal ambi- 
 tion, I have wished by these acts to attempt in France 
 a restoration of the empire. I have been taught noble 
 lessons, and have lived with nobler examples before 
 me, than to do so. 
 
 " I was born the son of a king, who descended with- 
 out regret from a throne, on the day when he had reason 
 to believe that it was no longer possible to conciliate 
 with the interests of France those of the people whom 
 he had been called upon to govern. 
 
 "The Emperor, my uncle, preferred abdicating the 
 empire to accepting by treaty the restricted frontiers, 
 while he could not but expose France to the insults and 
 the menaces in which foreign nations to this day per- 
 mit themselves to indulge. I have not lived a single 
 day forgetful of such lessons. The unmerited and cruel 
 act of proscription, under which for twenty-five years 
 I have endured a lingering existence — beginning at 
 the steps of the throne, where I was born, and now 
 stopping at the dungeon from which I have just come — 
 has been alike powerless to irritate as to fatigue my 
 heart; it has not been able for a single day to estrange 
 me from the glory, the rights, and the interests of 
 France. My conduct and my convictions sufficiently 
 explain the fact. 
 
 " In 1830, when the people reconquered their sove- 
 reignty, I had expeeted that the policy of the following 
 days would have been as loyal as the conquest itself, 
 and that the destinies of France would have been 
 established forever; instead of this, the country has 
 
DEFENSE OF LOUIS NAPOLEON. 225 
 
 undergone the melancholy experiences of the last ten 
 years. Under such circumstances I considered that the 
 vote of 4,000,000 of fellow-countrymen, which had ele- 
 vated my family to supreme power, imposed upon me 
 at leapt the duty of making an appeal to the nation, 
 and inquiring what was its will. T thought also that 
 if, in the midst of the national congress which I in- 
 tended to convene, certain pretensions should have 
 made themselves heard, I should have had the right to 
 re-awaken the glorious souvenirs of the empire ; to 
 speak of the elder brother of the Emperor, of that vir- 
 tuous man who before me is his only heir ; and to con- 
 trast, face to face, this France as she is now, weakened 
 and passed over in silence in the congress of kings, 
 and the France of that day, when she was so strong at 
 home, and abroad so powerful and so respected. The 
 nation would then have replied to the question, ' Re- 
 public or Monarchy? Empire or Kingdom?' And 
 upon the free discussion of the nation upon this ques- 
 tion depends the termination of our sorrows and of 
 our dissensions. 
 
 "With respect to my enterprise, I repeat it — I had 
 no accomplices. It was I alone who determined every 
 thing ; nobody knew beforehand my plans, nor my 
 resources, nor my hopes. If I am guilty as against 
 anybody, it is against my friends only. Nevertheless, 
 I hope that they will not accuse me of having lightly 
 trifled with courage and devotion such as theirs. They 
 will understand the motives of honor and of prudence 
 which prevent me from revealing, even to themselves, 
 how widely 'based and how powerful were my reasons 
 for hoping for a successful result. 
 
 " One word more, gentlemen. I represent before 
 jrou a principle, a cause, and a defeat. The principle 
 is the sovereignty of the people; the cause is that 
 jf the empire ; the defeat is that of "Waterloo. The 
 principle — you have recognized it; the cause — you 
 aave served in it; the defeat — you would avenge 
 it ! No, then, there is no dis-accord between you and 
 we ; and I will not believe that I can be destined to be 
 jrieved by the disaffection of any others. 
 
226 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 " Representing a political cause, I cannot accept as 
 the judge of my intentions and of my acts, a political 
 tribunal. Nobody will be imposed upon by your forms. 
 .In the struggle which is now commencing, there will 
 be but one to conquer, one defeated. If you are in the 
 ranks of the conqueror, I cannot expect justice at your 
 hands, and I will not accept of your generosity." 
 
 On the 6th of October, 1840, the court delivered its 
 sentence, convicting all its prisoners, with three excep- 
 tions, and condemning Louis Napoleon to perpetual 
 imprisonment. The sentence of the others was less 
 severe. "When he heard the decision of the court he 
 is recorded to have exclaimed — "At least I shall have 
 the happiness of dying in France!" His letter of 
 thanks to M. Berryer, the eminent counsel who con- 
 ducted his defense, was a specimen of the extravagant 
 rhetoric to which Louis Napoleon seems to have been 
 much addicted, and which ever casts a shade of doubt 
 over the sincerity of the fine sentiments he may utter. 
 The letter was closed with the following words — "I 
 know not what fate may have in reserve for me; I 
 know not if I shall ever be in a position to prove to 
 you my gratitude ; I know not if you would ever con- 
 sent to accept any proofs of it ; but whatever may be 
 our respective positions, apart from politics, and their 
 painful obligations, we can always entertain feelings 
 of friendship and esteem for one another ; and I de- 
 clare to you that, if my trial had had no other result 
 than to obtain for me your friendship, I should con- 
 sider myself immensely the gainer by it, and should 
 not complain of my fate !" 
 
 Two months afterward, while Louis Napoleon was 
 pining in the walls of a prison, the ashes of his uncle 
 
ADDRESS TO THE EMPEROR'S REMAINS. 227 
 
 were received in Paris and buried with the greatest 
 pomp, and amid the enthusiastic rejoicings of the people 
 of the whole country. This occasion Louis Napoleon 
 seized to write a wild rhapsody, addressed, "Aux 
 Manes de 1' Empereur ; " of which the following is a 
 translation : 
 
 TO THE MANES OF THE EMPEROR. 
 
 "Citadel of Ham, Dec. 15, 1840. 
 "Sire — You return to your capital, and the people 
 in multitudes hailed your return ; while I from the 
 depth of my dungeon can only discern a ray of that 
 sun which shines upon your obsequies! Do not be 
 angry with your family, that it is not there to receive 
 you : your exile and your misfortunes have ceased with 
 your life ; — ours continue always ! You have expired 
 upon a rock, far from your country and from your 
 kindred ; the hand of a son has not closed your eyes ; 
 and to-day none of your kinsmen will follow your 
 bier! Montholon, whom you loved the most among 
 your faithful companions, has performed the office of a 
 son ; he remains faithful to your ideas and has fulfilled 
 your last wishes. He has conveyed to me your last 
 words. He is in prison with me ! A French vessel, 
 under the command of a noble youth, went to claim 
 your ashes ; in vain you would look upon the deck for 
 any of your kin ; your family was not there. When 
 you touched the soil of France, an electric shock was 
 felt ; you raised yourself in your coffin ; your eyes 
 were for a moment re-opened ; the tricolor floated 
 upon the shore, but your eagle was not there ! The 
 people, as in former times, press around your coffin, 
 and 6alute you with their acclamations, as if you were 
 still alive ; but the courtiers of the day, while render- 
 ing you homage, say with suppressed breath — 'God 
 grant, he may not awake ! ' You have at length seen 
 again these French, whom you loved so much ; you 
 have returned again into that France, which you made 
 bo great ; but foreigners have left their trace, which 
 
228 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 the pomp of your return can never efface! See that 
 young army ; they are the sons of your veterans ; they 
 venerate you, for you are their glory ; but it is said to 
 them, 'Fold your arms!' Sire, the people are the good 
 stuff which cover our beautiful country, but these men 
 whom you have made so great, and who are yet so 
 small — ah, Bire, regret them not! They have denied 
 your gospel, your glory and your blood ; when I have 
 spoken to them ot your cause, they have said to me, 
 '"We do not understand it!' Let them say, let them 
 do ; what signifies to the car which rolls, the grains 
 of sand which it crushes under its wheels ! They say 
 in vain, that you were a meteor which has left no trace 
 behind ; in vain they deny your civil glory ; they will 
 not disinherit us ! Sire, the fifteenth of December is a 
 great day for France and for me. From the midst of 
 your splendid funeral train, disdaining the homage 
 of many around, you have, for a moment, cast your 
 eyes upon my gloomy abode, and calling to mind the 
 caresses you lavished upon me when a child, you have 
 said to me, 'You have suffered for me; son, I am 
 satisfied with you ! ' 
 
 "Louis Napoleon Bonaparte." 
 
 Louis Napoleon was imprisoned in the fortress of 
 Ham, in the province of Picardy. It is one of the 
 strongest citadels in France, and has, for 'centuries, 
 been occasionally used for the confinement of prisoners 
 of state. It was used by Louis Philippe, after the 
 overthrow of Charles X. in 1830, for the incarceration 
 of the ministers of the fallen monarch. 
 
 The fortress of Ham is one of 'great antiquity, the 
 place having been occupied as a military station as 
 early as the time when the legions of Julius Csesai 
 were in possession of the country. Portions of the 
 castle, still remaining, were constructed in the fourth 
 eentury. On the plains in its neighborhood, the wild 
 
229 
 
 and warlike Huns, under Attila, were defeated in the 
 fifth century. It was a place of much importance 
 during the feudal wars. In 923, an heir of Charle- 
 magne was imprisoned in Ham ; and 923 years after- 
 ward, the heir of Napoleon — the only French monarch 
 whose fame rivals that of Charlemagne — was a pris- 
 oner within the same massive and gloomy walls. 
 
 One of the most remarkable features of the castle is 
 the " Constable's tower." It is one of much interest, 
 both from the singularity of its construction and its 
 romantic history. It was built in 1460, by the Count St. 
 Pol, Constable of France. This powerful feudal lord 
 was on but indifferent terms with his wily sovereign, 
 Louis XL, and fearful that matters might go the length 
 of an open breach, he bethought him of building this 
 gigantic tower of one hundred feet in height, the same 
 in diameter, with walls thirty feet in thickness, in 
 whose capacious sides were constructed various cham- 
 bers. A wide moat or ditch formerly surrounded it, 
 adding to its security. Proud of this structure, he 
 engraved on its massive portal the words still legi- 
 ble, mon mieux, (my best) and confidently relied on 
 its strength to protect him in case of need against 
 the worst assaults of his formidable enemy. He cal- 
 culated without his host, poor fellow, and with a 
 strange blindness to the character of his foe. The 
 Louis of that day was notorious for his exceeding 
 craftiness, and, of choice, preferred always to accom- 
 plish his aims by trickery, even when simple means 
 would have been better. Instead of bringing his terri- 
 ble artillery to bear on the impregnable sides of mon 
 mieux, which would have " laughed a siege to 6corn," 
 
230 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 he expressed in dissembling language, his admira- 
 tion of its noble masonry, and not long after, in affec- 
 tionate terms, invited its enterprising projector to 
 Paris, where the confiding St. Pol betook himself, little 
 dreaming that the structure he had erected to preserve 
 his life would only serve as a monument to commemo- 
 rate his death. He was seized, imprisoned, and be- 
 headed, on reaching the court of his treacherous 
 master. 
 
 In one of the various cells of this great tower, ac- 
 cording to a popular tradition, a Capuchin friar was 
 once imprisoned. When and for what, no one knows. 
 But it appears that his misfortunes were the conse- 
 quence of his virtnes — a very common thing at a time 
 when vice was triumphant, and guided the affairs of 
 the world ! Providence, however, gave the most strik- 
 ing proofs of its favor and protection to the poor Capu- 
 chin ; for, if we can give credit to the legend, the monk 
 coutinued to live for a long period of years, in chains, 
 supported by the fervor of his prayers alone! His 
 body had become so hardened, so petrified, by his pri- 
 vations, that his head had worn the stone which served 
 him for a pillow, and left impressed upon it the form 
 of his countenance and the shape of his ear. It will 
 easily be understood with what devotion this holy 
 stone was visited, when it is known that every young 
 girl who came to visit the shrine, and who, after having 
 brought it into contact with her garments, religiously 
 detached a small portion of it, believed she would not 
 fail to find a husband within a year. It is needless to 
 add, that in consequence of the soft and friable nature 
 of the stone, that which is now shown in one of the 
 
THE LOVERS OF PIOAEDT. 231 
 
 casements of the great tower, has yielded with such a 
 good grace to the devotional acts of the successive 
 generations of the damsels of Picardy, that at present, 
 there is neither impression of countenance or of ear, 
 nor, indeed, of any thing which has any resemblance 
 whatever to any part of the good Capuchin friar. 
 
 There was a young man, named Lautrec, (says 
 another tradition, much more recent and less doubtful 
 than that of the Capuchin,) handsome in person and 
 of an ardent temperament. He met with a young 
 woman beautiful as himself, and full of generous pas- 
 sion, but chaste, pious and imbued with candor and 
 modesty. Lautrec ardently loved her; with a love 
 such as men of his character feel, impassioned and ill- 
 regulated. The young, girl reciprocated his affection. 
 She loved Lautrec, but she loved him with tender 
 innocence. Her condition was obscure, and she had 
 no property to redeem her from it. Lautrec imagined, 
 for some time, that love would gain the ascendancy in 
 her mind over virtue; but he was deceived. The poor 
 girl, astonished and humiliated, found an inflexible 
 strength in her purity of mind. Lautrec had no hopes 
 of prevailing over or soothing his father's pride, and 
 he did not, therefore, make the attempt to obtain her 
 as his bride. The fruitless passion which consumed 
 him became an obstinate and irresistible evil. His 
 .complexion faded; his looks lost their vivacity; he 
 lived in seclusion ; and became gloomy, thoughtful, 
 and taciturn. He scarcely listened to those who ad- 
 dressed him, and answered only with groans. 
 
 Lautrec had an uncle, still young, who had been 
 early raised to high offices of dignity in the church, 
 
232 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 and had always treated him with great affection. This 
 uncle marked the serious change which had taken 
 place in his nephew, and was distressed at the result. 
 He often put very pressing questions, which the young 
 man evaded. The uncle would not suffer himself to 
 be repulsed, and persevered. Lautrec, at length yield- 
 ing to his affection and importunities, allowed his secret 
 to escape. In an age in which moral duties sat lightly, 
 and men Were very unscrupulous in their conduct, love 
 was hardly ever treated as a serious affair. The uncle 
 addpted all possible means to overcome the love of his 
 nephew. Failing in this he urged the maid to submit 
 to the young man's unlawful passion, and made offers 
 of great wealth as a compensation for the sacrifice of 
 her honor. But the virtue of the poor girl was not 
 less deeply rooted in her heart, than her passion. The 
 inflexible simplicity of her young mind disconcerted 
 all the resources of ingenuity. The heart of the uncle 
 himself was troubled, and a perverse, wicked and 
 frightful idea entered his mind. He would himself 
 effect her ruin. So many charms had captivated him, 
 so much virtue filled him with inexpressible admira- 
 tion. The unhappy man yielded to his passion, and 
 ventured to declare his love. A cry of horror and 
 fear was the only reply which the young girl could 
 make : confounded and terrified, he fled. At the same 
 moment, Lautrec arrived. Thfe girl wept, groaned, and- 
 evinced symptoms of theamost violent despair. The 
 young man became desperate, and asked her the cause 
 of such extraordinary agitation, such lively grief. He 
 wished to know it, and to know it on the instant, 
 without dissimulation or concealment. His voice was 
 
THE LIBERATED PRISONER. 233 
 
 at once suppliant and imperious. He entreated and 
 insisted ; he wept and commanded. What could the 
 poor girl do? She was overcome by her own emo- 
 tion — by the eagerness and impetuosity of Lautrec. 
 In her indignation and her amazement, incapable of 
 measuring her words or of foreseeing consequences, she 
 made imprudent disclosures, and Lautrec learned the 
 treachery of his uncle, or surmised it. 
 
 Overwhelmed with the intelligence, his mind be- 
 came deranged, and scarce a glimmering of reason 
 was left. He rushed away — seized his arms — fol- 
 lowed the traces of his uncle — reached him at the 
 foot of the altar, and although robed in the vestments 
 of his exalted office, he struck him dead, and revenged 
 himself in his blood. From that time the dungeons 
 of Ham became the refuge of his madness and his 
 crime. Forty years had elapsed, when the Eevolution 
 of 1789 took place, and he was liberated ; but forgot- 
 ten, and disavowed by his kindred, he had neither a 
 resting-place nor bread. The people of Ham took pity 
 on his condition, and committed him to the care of a 
 poor woman to provide for his wants. Her care was 
 not long needed, for he died in about three months 
 afterward. He would probably have lived a longer 
 time had not liberty, a stranger so completely un- 
 known, come unexpectedly upon him, to derange and 
 alter all the melancholy habits of his life. 
 
 At the commencement of his sojourn in the citadel 
 of Ham, Louis Napoleon occupied the rooms which 
 had been appropriated to Polignac, the minister of 
 Charles X. These apartments were in a complete 
 state of dilapidation, and comfort was as carefully 
 
234: LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 excluded from this melancholy abode as light itself. 
 No person was permitted to visit him, on any pretense, 
 •without a letter from the government at Paris, coun- 
 tersigned by the principal magistrate of Ham. His 
 only servant, who had voluntarily entered the fortress 
 with his master, was not allowed to leave it even to 
 purchase articles for his subsistence or health. For 
 some months Louis Napoleon patiently endured this 
 rigor, and the privations of his daily allowance from 
 the government of only a dollar and a quarter of our 
 money : but in May, 1841, he addressed a protest from 
 the citadel of Ham, complaining that in his person the 
 usages of all nations, in the treatment of political 
 offenders, were outrageously violated. The prisoner 
 insisted that he was the son of a king, and allied to 
 all the sovereigns in Europe ; and that he derived his 
 honors from the same source as Louis Philippe his 
 throne — the sovereignty of the people; he referred to 
 the fortitude with which he had borne twenty-seven 
 years of proscription and exile, and complained that 
 ne was treated like an excommunicated person of the 
 thirteenth century ; that he was not allowed, in his let- 
 ters to his friends, to describe his condition ; that a 
 civility from the attendants in the prison was punished 
 as a crime; and that he was exposed to numerous 
 vexations that were not necessary for his safe custody. 
 In this expostulation, in which Louis Napoleon as- 
 sumed the air of a martyr, he evidently had the 
 advantage of the government, who, either yielding to 
 the justice of his logic, or fearing to be accused of 
 wanton inhumanity by their opponents, relaxed the 
 detestable severity of his bondage. The condition of 
 
PBISON OCCUPATIONS. 235 
 
 the captive was henceforth materially improved, and 
 though he still inhabited the dilapidated chambers 
 that had been occupied by the infamous minister of 
 Charles X., his valet, Charles Thelin, was allowed free 
 egress to the town, and upon the failure of his health 
 Louis Napoleon was permitted horse exercise within 
 the limits of the yard. Jailers are proverbial reflectors 
 of the powers they serve, and the commandant of the 
 citadel now frequently, after shutting up the prison, 
 retired to the prisoner's room to pass the evening 
 at whist. 
 
 Louis Napoleon passed a large portion of his time 
 in intellectual pursuits. He rose early, and wrote until 
 breaktast, at tern He then walked on the ramparts, or 
 cultivated a few favorite flowers. The remainder of 
 the day was occupied in various studies. His evenings 
 were passed in the society of his fellow-prisoner, Gen- 
 eral Montholon, or with the commandant. After his 
 indignant protest in regard to his treatment,- he was 
 allowed to receive visitors, and many eminent men 
 went to see the distinguished prisoner. His corre- 
 spondence was quite extensive. In one of his letters 
 (to Lady Blessington) this remarkable passage occurs — 
 "I have no desire to quit the spot where I now am, for 
 here I am in my proper place. With the name I bear 
 I must either be in the seclusion of a dungeon, or in 
 the brightness of power!" He corresponded with 
 Arago, the astronomer, on scientific subjects, and with 
 Sismondi, the historian, in regard to writing a life of 
 Charlemagne. 
 
 Besides his works on the Swiss Confederation and 
 on Artillery, Louis Napoleon, previous to his attempt 
 
236 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 at Strasbourg, had published a volume of "Political 
 Reflections," in which he seems to have endeavored to 
 elaborate a theory of government embodying the idea 
 of Lafayette in regard to "a monarchy surrounded by 
 republican institutions." And on the eve of his rev- 
 olutionary movement at Boulogne, he issued another 
 work entitled, "Idees Napoleoniennes," in which he not 
 only explained his own views on many political topics, 
 but those also of his illustrious uncle. In this produc- 
 tion there is the same commingling of republican and 
 monarchical principles as in its predecessor. 
 
 Endowed with much activity of mind, and an in- 
 satiable ambition, the Prince gave up his time, while 
 in prison, to the composition of several works. His 
 literary pursuits not only afforded him occupation, but 
 they brought him much applause and served to keep 
 the public attention fixed upon him. 
 
 Shortly after the incarceration of Louis Napoleon in 
 the citadel of Ham, the question whether the govern- 
 ment should more effectually encourage the manufac- 
 ture of beet-root sugar was discussed with great 
 animation throughout France. The manufacture of 
 beet-root sugar, factitiously created and supported by 
 a high protective tariff, was one of the Emperor Na- 
 poleon's schemes for interrupting the ordinary course 
 of commerce, and was adopted more especially with a 
 view to the injury of England, from whom the French 
 had obtained their sugar. It was natural, therefore, 
 that the heir to the empire should think it his duty to 
 adopt the prejudices and animosities of his uncle, and 
 to advocate the policy bequeathed to France by the 
 Emperor. The Prince's pamphlet had great succosb. 
 
LITERARY LABOES OF LOUIS NAPOLEON. 237 
 
 The committee representing the interests of the sugar 
 manufacturers, who were engaged in urging upon the 
 government the necessity of protecting their industry, 
 and who rejected the idea of a proposed compensation 
 for the suppression of their trade, were about to draw 
 up a paper to lay before the government and the 
 Chambers, with a view to convince both of the ad- 
 vantages of preparing sugar from beet-root, and of the 
 rights and claims of the manufacturers to protection. 
 This committee, having been informed of the existence 
 of a pamphlet on this question, published by the pris- 
 oner of Ham, found, on examination, that the Prince's 
 paper presented the merits of the question in a manner 
 so clear and concise, that they relinquished the idea of 
 any other publication. They found their own ideas 
 completely and admirably stated. In consequence of 
 this opinion, the committee requested the author to 
 place 3,000 copies at the disposal of the society, to 
 distribute them among the members of the government, 
 and other parties interested. 
 
 "In misfortune it is natural to think of those who 
 suffer," said Louis Napoleon, in the preface of a work 
 on the "Extinction of Pauperism," which he published 
 in 1844. It was certainly magnanimous, and highly 
 honorable to the Prince, that in the midst of the annoy- 
 ances and sufferings of captivity, he should occupy his 
 thoughts with studying the best means for either reme- 
 dying or mitigating the evils which afflicted many of 
 his fellow-countrymen. 
 
 The political economists of Europe seem to regard 
 pauperism as a necessary evil, and affirm that all 
 society can or ought to do is to repress it, for they 
 
238 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 consider its extinction to be impossible. They would 
 suppress mendicity by punishing paupers almost as if 
 they were robbers, without even thinking of the possi- 
 bility of bringing about a condition of things in which 
 there need be no mendicant, by making a place for 
 all at the social banquet which God has spread for his 
 whole people, as he has made the sun to shine upon all. 
 Although not directly avowed, nor perhaps wholly 
 intended, the policy of the European governments 
 toward paupers seems to be founded, in a great de- 
 gree, upon the principle that pauperism, although 
 unavoidable, is still criminal, and that it should be 
 punished, rather than that its miseries should be miti- 
 gated. A Scotch economist, a few years ago, pub- 
 lished a pamphlet in which he maintained that the 
 most efficacious means of diminishing it would be to 
 give no relief to paupers. They will die, said he, and 
 their attenuated carcasses, in the streets and highways, 
 will be a warning to all those who have not been 
 careful to provide some resource against age and 
 misfortune, in their days of health and activity ! 
 
 However impracticable may have been the scheme 
 of Louis Napoleon, he seems to have been impelled by 
 the sacred injunction — "Thou shalt open thine hand 
 wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and to thy needy, 
 in thy land." His plan for the aid of the poor, con- 
 sisted, chiefly, in the adoption of means to bring into 
 use the immense extent of uncultivated or neglected 
 lands, yet lying waste in France, without yielding any 
 profit either to the masses or to individuals. He pro- 
 posed that the government should form, on these lands, 
 agricultural colonies of unemployed laborers, and thus, 
 
THE NICARAGUA SHIP CANAL. 239 
 
 while giving them employment, enrich the state. In 
 the course of his work the following language occurs : 
 •'The reign of caste is finished: there is no way 
 of government except through the masses ; while gov- 
 ernment must be according to their will, it becomes 
 the more necessary that they be so disciplined, that 
 they may be directed and enlightened as to their true 
 interests. Government can no longer be carried on by 
 force and violence; the people must be led toward 
 something better, through appeals to their reason and 
 their hearts. But as the masses require to be taught 
 and made moral, and as authority requires on its side 
 to be kept within bounds, and to be itself enlightened 
 upon the interests of the greatest number, two move- 
 ments become, as of necessity, of equal force : action 
 of power on the mass, and the reaction of the mass on 
 power." 
 
 Louis Napoleon also beguiled the tedium of prison 
 life by the composition of various other works, chiefly 
 relating to the Emperor, or in explanation of his own 
 views of government. His attention was so absorbed 
 by these literary pursuits, that it was only when they 
 were interrupted, that he remembered that he was 
 confined within the walls of a prison, and that he was 
 surrounded by vigilant jailers. 
 
 In the year 1844, while thus engaged, the states of 
 Guatimala, St. Salvador and Honduras, sent an agent 
 to Louis Napoleon, requesting him, if his liberation 
 could be procured, to go to Central America, and take 
 charge of the construction of a ship-canal near the 
 isthmus of Panama, to connect the Atlantic and Pacific 
 oceans. The negotiations were pontinued until, early 
 
240 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 in the year 1846, he was endowed with all the powers 
 necessary to organize a company in Europe, for the 
 accomplishment of that great enterprise. This canal, 
 which was to open a new channel for the commerce of 
 the world, was^ in compliment to him, to be called the 
 " Canal Napoleon." The civil wars which were raging 
 in the various states of Central America, prevented 
 the feasibility of the great project, the completion of 
 which would have conferred imperishable renown upon 
 the name of Louis Napoleon, and the enterprise was 
 necessarily abandoned. In the unsettled state of af- 
 fairs, in the states interested in the canal, European 
 capitalists were unwilling to hazard the undertaking. 
 
 Toward the autumn of 1845, the Count of St. Leu, 
 (formerly King of Holland, and father of Louis Na- 
 poleon,) who had long been in declining health, found 
 his end approaching, and determined to make an earn- 
 est appeal to Louis Philippe's clemency, for permis- 
 sion to clasp his son once more in his arms before he 
 should die. Louis Napoleon also requested permission 
 to visit his dying father, and proposed, after perform- 
 ing the last sad offices to the corpse of his parent, to 
 return again to his prison. Through a technical objec- 
 tion this application was denied, and he was referred 
 to the king. The Prince then addressed Louis Philippe 
 as follows : 
 
 " Fortress of Ham, Januaiy 14, 1846. 
 "Siee, — It is not without deep emotion that I ap- 
 proach your Majesty, and ask, as a favor, permission 
 to quit France, even for a short time. For five years 
 I have found, in breathing the air of my country, ample 
 compensation for the torments of captivity ; but my 
 father is now aged and infirm, and calls for my 
 
LETTER OF THIERS. 241 
 
 attentions and care. He has applied to persons known 
 for their attachment to your Majesty, in order to obtain 
 my liberation; and it is my duty to do every thing 
 which depends upon me to meet his desires. 
 
 "The council of ministers has not felt itself compe- 
 * tent to accede to the request which I made to be al- 
 lowed to go to Florence, engaging to return, and again 
 to become a prisoner, as soon as the government, might 
 desire me to do so. I approach your majesty with con- 
 fidence, to make an appeal to your feeling of humanity, 
 and to renew my request by submitting it to your high 
 and generous interference. 
 
 " Your Majesty will, I am convinced, appreciate a 
 step which, beforehand, engages my gratitude, and, 
 affected by the isolated position in a foreign land of a 
 man who, upon a throne, gained the esteem of Europe, 
 will accede to the wishes of my father and myself. 
 
 "I beg your Majesty to receive the expressions of my 
 profound respect. 
 
 "Napoleon Louis Bonapakte." 
 
 i He also wrote niftnerous letters to ministers, cour- 
 tiers, and persons of influence, and received, among 
 others, the following in reply from M. Thiers : 
 
 "Pbince, — I have received 'the letter which yon 
 have done me the honor to address to me, in order to 
 make me acquainted with the refusal which has been 
 given to your request. It seems to me, that the desire 
 of seeing a dying father, accompanied by the promise 
 of returning to pristfn on the first requisition of the 
 Minister of the Interior, ought to have been regarded 
 as sufficient. In my opinion, such a measure might 
 have, been adopted without inconvenience, upon the 
 responsibility of tn*e minister who had sanctioned it. I 
 ' am sorry, PrinGe, not to have it in my power to be of 
 ■»anyVs$' to yovt whatever in these circumstances. _ I 
 have no influence with the .government, and publicity 
 would serve you little. On every occasion in which 
 I can possibly contribute to solace your misfortunes 
 
 11 
 
24:2 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 without contravening my duty, I shall be happy to 
 have it in my power to give fresh proofs of my 
 Sympathy with the glorious name which you bear. 
 " Accept, &c. " A. Thtees." 
 
 During the course of the negotiations, he was in- 
 formed that the only condition upon which the gov- 
 ernment would sanction his release, was a positive 
 renunciation on his part, of all right to the throne of 
 France, and a written pledge never again to make war 
 against the dynasty of Louis Philippe. Such a pledge 
 he refused to give; and, finding the negotiations for 
 his release to be hopeless, he determined to cut the 
 Gordian knot by making his escape, in disguise — in 
 the disguise of an honest Workman. This project he 
 carried into effect very cleverly, on Monday, May 25, 
 1846, by the aid of his faithful friend, Dr. Conneau, 
 and his valet, Thelin. The Prince gives the following 
 account of the proceeding, so far as he was concerned, 
 in a letter, addressed to M. de George, the editor of 
 a paper, for which he had often written while in 
 confinement : 
 
 "My Dear M. de George, — My desire to see my 
 father, once more in this world, made me attempt the 
 boldest enterprise I ever engaged in. It required more 
 resolution and courage on my part than at Strasbourg 
 and Boulogne, for I was determined not to submit to the 
 rjdicule that attaches to those who are arrested escap- 
 ing under a disguise ; and a failure I could not have 
 endured. The following are the particulars of my 
 escape : — 
 
 " You know that the fort was guarded by four hun- 
 dred men, who furnished daily sixty soldiers, placed as 
 sentries outside the walls. Moreover, the principal gate 
 of the prison was guarded by three jailers, two of 
 whom were constantly on duty. It was necessary that 
 
ESCAPE OF LOUIS NAPOLEON. 24§ 
 
 1 should first elude their vigilance, afterward traverse 
 tLe inside court, before the windows of the, command- 
 ant's residence; and .arriving there,.I should | be Obliged: 
 to pass .by. a gate which was guarded by soldiers. 
 
 " Not wishing to communicate my design to any one, 
 it was necessary to disguise myself. A-s several rooms 
 in the part of the building I occupied wer.e, undergoing 
 repairs, it was not difficult to assume the dress of a 
 workman. My good and faithful valet, Charles Thelin, 
 procured a smock-frock and a pair of sabots, (wooden 
 shoes,) and, after shaving, off my moustaches, I took a 
 plank on my shoulders. . 
 
 " On . Monday morning : I saw the workmen enter, 
 at half-past eight o'clock. Charles took them some 
 drink, in order that I should not meet any of them on 
 my passage. He. was also to call one of the gard- 
 iens (turnkeys,) .while Dr. Conneau conversed with the 
 others. Nevertheless, I had scarcely got out of my 
 room before. I was accosted by a workman, who took 
 me for one of his comrades, and, at the bottom of the 
 stairs I found myself in front of the keeper. Fortu- 
 nately, I placed the plank I was carrying before my 
 face, and succeeded in reaching the yard. "Whenever 
 I passed a sentinel, or any other person, I always kept 
 the plank before my face. 
 
 "Passing before the first sentinel, I let my pipe 
 fall, and stopped to pick up the bits. There I met 
 the officer 'on duty, but, as he was reading a letter, he 
 did not. pay : attention to me. The soldiers at the 
 guard-house appeared surprised at my dress, and a 
 drummer turned round several times to look at me. I 
 next met some workmen, who looked very attentively 
 at me. I . placed the plank before my face, but they 
 appeared to be so curious, that I thought I should 
 never escape them, until I heard them cry, ' Oh ! it is 
 Bernard!' 
 
 " Once outside, I walked quickly toward the road of 
 St. Quentin. Charles, who, the day before, had en- 
 gaged a carriage, shortly overtook me, and we arrived 
 at St. Quentin. I passed through the town on foot, 
 after having thrown off my smock-frock. Charles 
 
244 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 procured a post-chaise, under pretext of going to Cam- 
 brai. "We arrived, without meeting with any obstacles, 
 at Valenciennes, where I took the railway. I had 
 procured a Belgian passport, but nowhere was I asked 
 to show it. 
 
 "During my escape, Dr. Conneau, always so de- 
 Voted to me, remained in prison, and caused them to 
 believe I was ill, in order to give me time to reach the 
 frontier. It was necessary, before I could be per- 
 suaded to quit France, to be convinced that the gov- 
 ernment would never set me at liberty, unless I would 
 consent to dishonor myself. It was also a matter of 
 duty that I should exert all my powers to be able to 
 console my father in his old age. 
 
 "Adieu, my dear M. de George; although free, I 
 feel myself to be most unhappy. Receive the assur- 
 ance of my sincere friendship, and, if you are able, 
 endeavor to be useful to my kind Conneau. 
 
 "Napoleon Louis." 
 
 Dr. Conneau, whose five years of imprisonment had 
 at this time expired, was a free agent in the affair ; 
 and the noble disinterestedness of his character may 
 be judged of from the fact that, by aiding his patron's 
 escape, he placed himself again in the hands of the 
 law for an indefinite period. Dr. Conneau, then, to 
 whose affectionate devotion it is impossible to refuse a 
 tribute of admiration, gives the following account of 
 the Prince's escape, and of the anxious moments which 
 he, the doctor, passed during the after part of the day ; 
 when, instead of going away himself, as he was free to 
 do, he remained in the fortress, in order to conceal, by 
 every maneuver ingenuity could suggest, the fact of 
 the Prince's escape until the latest possible moment. 
 At his trial for this offense, he said : — 
 
 " I tried to conceal the departure of the Prince, in 
 
STRATAGEM OF DE. CONNEAU. 245 
 
 order to give him time to escape. I was anxious, if 
 
 fossible, in this way to gain at least twenty-four hours, 
 first of all closed the door leading from the Prince's 
 chamber into the saloon. I kindled a strong fire, al- 
 though, in fact, the weather was extremely hot, to 
 countenance the supposition that the Prince was ill ; 
 with the same intent I put the coffee-pot on the fire, 
 and told the man-of-all-work that the Prince was indis- 
 posed. About eight o'clock, a packet of violet plants 
 arrived by the diligence. I told the keeper to fill some 
 pots with earth, and prevented him from entering the 
 Prince's saloon. About half-past eight o'clock the 
 man-of-all-work came and asked me where we would 
 breakfast. ' In my room,' I replied. 'I shall fetch the 
 large table,' he said. I answered, 'That is unnecessary ; 
 the General is ill, and will not breakfast with us.' 
 
 "My intention was, in this manner, to push off fur- 
 ther knowledge till the next day. I said the Prince 
 had taken medicine. It was absolutely necessary that 
 it should be taken — accordingly I took it myself. I 
 intended to have given him a bath — this was impossi- 
 ble, on account of the workmen. I then thought of an 
 emetic, and attempted myself to perform the conse- 
 quent functions; but that was impossible. I then took 
 some coffee and threw it into a pot of water, with some 
 crumbs of bread, and • added nitric acid, which pro- 
 duced a very disagreeable smell ; so that our man-of- 
 all-work might be persuaded that the Prince was 
 really ill. 
 
 " About half-past twelve I saw the commandant for 
 the second time, and informed him that the Prince was 
 somewhat easier. The commandant looked at the 
 works, and offered to send me his servant, in conse- 
 quence of Thelin's absence. About one o'clock I told 
 Delaplace to come and make the Prince's bed. Every 
 time that I came out of the small saloon, in which the 
 Prince was supposed to be lying on a sofa, I pretended 
 to be speaking to him ; the man-of-all-work did not 
 hear me — if his ears had been at all delicate, he would 
 have been able perfectly to hear me speaking. 
 
 "The day passed on very well till a quarter past 
 
246 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 seven o'clock. At this moment the commandant en- 
 tered, with an air somewhat stern. ' The Prince is a 
 little better, Commandant.' 'If,' he exclaimed, 'the 
 Prince is still ill, I must speak to him — I must speak 
 to the Prince ! ' I had prepared a large stuffed figure, 
 and laid it in the Prince's bed, with the head resting 
 upon the pillow. I called the Prince — who, naturally 
 enough, made no reply. I retired toward the com- 
 mandant, and indicated to him, by a sign, that the 
 Prince was asleep. This did not satisfy him. He sat 
 down in the saloon, saying, ' The Prince will not sleep 
 forever — I will wait.' 
 
 "He remarked to me, that the time of the arrival of 
 the diligence was passed, and expressed his wonder 
 that Thelin was not returned ; I explained to him that 
 he had taken a cabriolet. The drum beat, and the 
 commandant rose and said, 'The Prince has moved in 
 his bed ; he is waking up.' 
 
 "The commandant stretched his ear, but did not hear 
 him breathe. I did the same, and said, 'Let him sleep 
 on.' He drew near the bed, and found a stuffed figure. 
 He immediately turned toward me and 6aid, 'The 
 Prince is gone! At what hour?' 'At seven in the 
 morning.' ' Who were the persons on guard ? ' ' I know 
 nothing.' These were the only words which were 
 interchanged between us: the. commandant left the 
 
 A brief imprisonment of only three months was 
 imposed upon Dr. Conneau for his participation in the 
 escape of Louis Napoleon. Thelin, for some indis- 
 creet and not very respectful langnage respecting the 
 authorities, on his trial, was sentenced to six months 
 imprisonment. The commandant of the fortress was 
 acquitted. After arriving in London, the Prince wrote 
 to the French embassador in England, and to a member 
 of the British ministry, explaining his motives and 
 intentions. To the French embassador he said — "Id 
 
DEATH OF THE COUNT ST. LEU. 247 
 
 quitting my prison, I have not been actuated by any 
 idea of renewing against the French government a war 
 which has been so disastrous to me, but only to be 
 enabled to visit my aged father." He requested the 
 embassador to inform the king of his peaceable inten- 
 tions, and expressed the hope that this voluntary 
 assurance would hasten the liberation of those of his 
 friends who still remained in prison. 
 
 The immediate purpose of Louis Napoleon's escape 
 from prison — to attend by the deathbed of his father — 
 was not attained, for the Austrian embassador at Lon- 
 don, who was also the representative of Tuscany, where 
 the Count of St. Leu was residing, positively refused 
 to sign his passport. Application was then made to 
 Leopold, Grand Duke of Tuscany, but he replied that 
 the influence of France compelled him to decline per- 
 mitting Louis Napoleon to visit his father. The Count 
 of St. Leu had been living, for some weeks, in the hope 
 of at length dying in his son's arms. He survived, 
 only a short time, the intelligence that this consolation 
 was denied to him. He died on the 25th of July, 1846. 
 
CHAPTEK V- 
 
 REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 On Monday, February 21, 1848, it appeared to 
 every casual observer, that there existed in Europe a 
 powerful kingdom called France. Its monarch, sur- 
 rounded by an accomplished and numerous family; 
 supported by a vast army ; sustained by an almost 
 unanimous Chamber of Deputies ; possessing the cor- 
 dial attachment of the House of Peers ; having an 
 overwhelming force of friends among the moneyed 
 classes ; and with an electoral body, an immense ma- 
 jority of whom were enthusiastic adherents to his dy- 
 nasty, and his policy ; he seemed to be placed beyond 
 the reach of misfortune. The accidental whim of a mo- 
 ment, in the Revolution of 1830, had made this man a 
 king. That Revolution had been effected less by the 
 organized efforts of the republicans, than by the spon- 
 taneous indignation of the middle classes, at the des- 
 potic policy pursued by the government of Charles X. 
 The aristocracy were more powerful than the repub- 
 licans, and declared for another monarchy; but to 
 appease the disappointment of the latter class, the 
 monarchy, it was said, should be one surrounded by 
 democratic institutions, and Louis Philippe was to be 
 a citizen-king ! The republicans were never reconciled 
 to this defeat. They, and the majority of the working 
 
EEVTEW OF LOUIS PHILIPPE'S BEIGK. 249 
 
 classes, had fought for a republic, and they looked 
 upon themselves as deceived, tricked and ignomini- 
 ous^ vanquished. But they were not disheartened. 
 After a few unorganized attempts at revolution, they 
 gave up, for the time, the system of insurrectionary 
 movements, and determined to adhere to that far surer 
 instrument, the pen, which they relied on to ultimately 
 give them a complete victory. They wrote, talked, 
 and industriously spread their doctrines. They also 
 counted much on the errors of those in power. They 
 were confident that Louis Philippe, as soon as he 
 should feel himself secure on the throne, would labor 
 for his own aggrandizement, rather than for the welfare 
 of France, and that the unpopularity and hatred at- 
 tendant upon his administration would strengthen the 
 republican ranks. And they were right. While the 
 spirit of insurrection was yet alive, Louis Philippe 
 aimed at conciliating the republicans; but no sooner 
 was this crushed, than he exhibited the same tenden- 
 cies that had characterized the Bourbon dynasty. His 
 policy was then to tarn back the tide of democracy, 
 and firmly seat his heirs on the throne of France. 
 His first step was to separate from the republicans who 
 had been the instruments of his elevation. Some he 
 treated coldly ; he dismissed others from office. "With 
 the good Lafayette he provoked an unwarrantable 
 quarrel. 
 
 The strength thus lost he endeavored to replace by 
 the actual purchase of new adherents. All the arts of 
 corruption were put in practice. Some persons, less 
 scrupulous than ambitious, rushed forward and met 
 
 bribery half way — others, who held out for a timej 
 11* 
 
250 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 were finally swept along by the current. Every man 
 of Hterary reputation, who would sell himself to the 
 government, was gbrged with offices and loaded with 
 honorary decorations. Every rising young man, of 
 the least promise, was lured to the same dishonorable 
 distinction. Those only could resist the seduction 
 whose virtue was superior to their eagerness for ad- 
 vancement. The deplorable effect of this policy was 
 soon evinced by the profligate immorality which was 
 rapidly spreading among the ablest and most accom- 
 plished young men of France. The examples of ser- 
 vility, baseness and cupidity, shamelessly exhibited 
 in high places, were followed with frightful rapidity 
 among all classes of society. It was notorious in 
 France, that every electoral body, however small — 
 with rare exceptions — left wholly uninfluenced, would 
 elect men of liberal views, and favorable to the gradual 
 progress of reform. But reform was not in accordance 
 with the views of Louis Philippe. With an aristoc- 
 racy of electors — there being less than 250,000 voters, 
 out of more than 5,000,000 adult males — Louis Philippe 
 and his partizans found it necessary to resort to bribery 
 to obtain the support of these constituencies. There 
 were more than 400,000 offices, great and small, at the'" 
 disposal of the government. These, with grants of 
 almost innumerable privileges, loans, and the direct 
 purchase of votes, enabled the government to insure 
 to itself a majority in the Chamber of Deputies. In 
 the Chambers, out of four hundred and fifty members, 
 two hundred held profitable places under government, 
 and were, of course, always subservient to the wishes 
 of the king. 
 
CHARACTER Off LOUIS PHILIPPE. 251 
 
 The iife of Louis Philippe was one of cold and Tin- 
 deviating selfishness. His administration was one long 
 intrigue for the advancement of his family and him- 
 self; and sometimes, as in the case of the marriage of 
 the Duke of Montpensier with the sister of the Spanish 
 queen, the trickery was so obvious, and the breach of 
 faith so gross, that his majesty could scarcely be said 
 to appear in the light of an honorable statesman. He 
 met with the usual luck of the crafty, and it is now 
 apparent that he overreached himself; for he forfeited 
 the good will of England, and the respect of his own 
 subjects, and thus weakened the moral basis of his 
 dynasty, without at all increasing its material sup- 
 ports. During a reign of seventeen years, in which, 
 in spite of constitutional restrictions, his real authority 
 and influence were immense, he did little for his coun- 
 try, little for the moral and intellectual elevation of 
 the people, and nothing for the gradual improvement 
 of the political institutions of the kingdom. His time 
 and attention were absorbed in seeking splendid for- 
 eign alliances for his children ; in maneuvering to 
 obtain a pliant majority in the Chambers ; and in 
 endeavors to keep those ministers at the head of affairs 
 who would second most heartily his private designs. 
 
 In favor of Louis Philippe it may be said, that he 
 was unwilling to 6hed blood even for the gravest 
 political crimes, and that he was sincerely desirous of 
 maintaining the peace of Europe. Credit for these 
 virtues are due to him, though both tended to the 
 security of his throne. Prosperity is always attendant 
 upon peace, and during the reign of Louis Philippe, 
 France was eminently prosperous. The condition of 
 
252 THE BEVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 all classes of its population greatly improved. At 
 peace with the whole civilized world, its commerce 
 and manufactures were flourishing; its peasantry 
 comfortable and unusually contented ; and although 
 taxation was enormous, it was equally distributed, no 
 class being exempted from its pressure, but all shar- 
 ing the burden alike. All were equal before the law, 
 and toleration of opinion, in politics or religion, was 
 complete. 
 
 But the prosperity of the country finally met a check 
 in the frightful increase of taxation. , In 1847, the taxes 
 amounted to $300,000,000. This amount had been 
 swelled by the system of creating numerous unneces- 
 sary offices to buy votes, but it was mostly attributable 
 to the people themselves. The war in Algiers, which 
 was solely a sacrifice to the popular appetite for mili- 
 tary glory and foreign possessions, constituted a con- 
 tinual and prodigious drain upon the treasury. Louis 
 Philippe dared not abandon his costly and unprofit- 
 able possession in Africa. The people would not hear 
 of it ; and so an army of a hundred thousand men 
 was maintained there, to wage an inglorious war with 
 a few Arabs, and to make useless expeditions into the 
 desert. 
 
 For some years, the subject of electoral reform had 
 been agitated among the people. Scarcely one in forty 
 of the adult male population of France were Voters. 
 In the session of the Chambers for 1846, when allusion 
 was made to this topic by some of the deputies, Guizot 
 tauntingly told them that the people did not desire 
 such a reform, as no petitions for it had been presented. 
 As avowed political meetings were prohibited because 
 
THE REFORM BANQUETS. 253 
 
 they had been so often made a cloak for insurrections, 
 the people prepared to hold a series of banquets in 
 different parts of the country, at which the toasts and 
 speeches should bear entirely on the question of the 
 extension of the elective franchise. This scheme was 
 carried into effect. During the summer of 1847, 
 seventy banquets were held in various parts of the 
 country, attended by large numbers of electors. They 
 all passed off quietly, but they gave evidence that pub- 
 lic opinion was strongly in favor of reform. At some 
 of these banquets, the usual toast of "the King" was 
 omitted, and one in favor .of universal suffrage and the 
 unlimited liberty of the press was substituted. About 
 the middle of September, the journeymen printers of 
 Paris made the usual arrangements to celebrate their 
 annual dinner. For several years, not the slightest 
 opposition had been offered to their so doing, particu- 
 larly as the banquet was of a social and private char 
 acter, wholly unconnected with politics. But already 
 had ministers and their friends entered upon the false 
 and fatal path which led them to destruction. The 
 banquet was to have taken place at a restaurant. Just 
 as the body of workmen were about to sit down, a 
 commissary of police ordered them to disperse. Being 
 backed, as the man in office was, by municipal guards 
 and soldiers, the artisans, after protest, obeyed ; but 
 determined not to be balked of their feast, demanded 
 permission of a printer, known for his liberal opinions, 
 to meet on his private premises, outside the town. 
 The printer acceded, and as the law distinctly allows 
 meetings in a private house, on the proprietor's own 
 responsibility, no fear was felt for the result. But, 
 
254 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 with the idea which now actuated the prefect of police, 
 guided, as he was, by the. cabinet, legality was of little 
 moment. Scarcely had the printers re-assembled at 
 the house which had. been generously placed at their 
 disposal, ere some, hundreds of. soldiers', municipal 
 guards,. and a commissary of police, presented, them- 
 selves anew, entered the printer's .house, and forcibly 
 dispersed, the '. assembly. Other '. assemblies were dis- 
 solved, in the same arbitrary, and illegal manner. 
 
 The king's, speech,. at .the opening- of the Chambers, 
 December 28, 1847, closed with .a contemptuous allu- 
 sion to these banquets. On the 19th of. the following 
 January, the address of the Peersj in reply to the 
 king's speech, was carried by a large majority. One 
 of the paragraphs of the address was directed against 
 the reform banquets. " Noisy manifestations, (said the 
 Peers,) in which are blindly mingled vague ideas of 
 reform and of progress, passions hostile to our mon- 
 archical constitution, opinions subversive of social 
 order, and detestable reminiscences, have rather dis- 
 quieted- than convinced men." During the debates on 
 this address, in the Chamber of . Deputies, petitions 
 were presented for electoral and parliamentary reform. 
 
 The severe allusion to these banquets in the king's 
 speech, and the great majority which supported the 
 address that Echoed this condemnation of them, in- 
 creased the fury of the opposition, as it was clear that 
 the ministry were firm, and that there was no chance 
 of unseating them by parliamentary weapons alone. 
 They resolved, therefore, though with hesitation and 
 many misgiving's, to agitate the people still further. 
 Hitherto, the banquets had been held only in the 
 
KEFORM BAJJQUET IN FAKIS. 255 
 
 provinces, and after all the inflammatory speeches that 
 had been made at them, not more than 200J000 per- 
 sons, out of a population of more than 34,000,000, had 
 been induced to petition for reform. But the Parisians 
 ■were more excitable and dangerous, and so it was de- 
 termined, to hold a monster banquet in the capital, to 
 be preceded by a grand procession, — a measure which 
 was almost sure to bring the republicans into open 
 revolt. The mere announcement of a. great popular 
 demonstration was enough to cause the desperate re- 
 publicans to furbish up their arms, and concert . all the 
 measures necessary for the overthrow of the monarchy. 
 The ministers expressed their intention of, suppressing 
 the banquet. They even declared that there should be 
 no reform. Guizot, the prime minister, emphatically 
 repeated his determination to put down all public 
 demonstrations of opinion, in the shape of reform ban- 
 quets. The friends of the measure met this declaration 
 by expressing their determination to attend the ban- 
 quet which had already been announced, and defying 
 the minister to make good his threat — no law existing 
 against a public meeting for any peaceable and consti- 
 tutional object. The conduct of the minister was inju- 
 dicious in the extreme. He had committed himself to 
 a course, the tendency of which was utterly destructive 
 of public liberty. Its illegality was obvious, but illegal 
 or not, it became the duty of every man not in favor 
 of absolutism, to make a stand against such an insuf- 
 ferable assumption of authority. To yield would have 
 been to tamely bare the neck to the yoke of despotism, 
 and to see the last vestiges of freedom trodden under 
 foot. To try the question, it was decided that tha 
 
256 THE BEVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 reform banquet, which had been postponed from time 
 to time, "waiting the course of events, should take a 
 more imposing form, to which the independent mem- 
 bers of both Chambers, and the public generally, 
 should be invited. The object being a pacific demon- 
 stration of opinion, it was arranged, that to avoid all 
 danger of collision with the authorities, the banquet 
 should not be held in Paris itself, but in the suburbs ; 
 and to place the legality of the meeting beyond all 
 doubt, by giving it as much as possible the character 
 of a private party, the number of guests was limited 
 to 1500, and no person not invited was to be admitted. 
 Nearly one hundred Deputies, and a few members of 
 the Chamber of Peers, signified their intention to be 
 present. 
 
 The day fixed for the banquet was Tuesday, Febru- 
 ary 22, 1848, and it was not until Monday — the day 
 preceding — that the government finally determined 
 to attempt its suppression. The first plan of Guizot 
 was to allow the banquet to proceed, under protest. 
 A civil officer was to be sent to verify the fact of the 
 meeting, and afterward a crown prosecution was to be 
 commenced against its originators; but on Monday the 
 court took offense or alarm at an advertisement and 
 programme, which appeared in the opposition journals, 
 of a contemplated procession to the place of meeting ; 
 to consist of the guests invited to the banquet, officers, 
 and soldiers of the National Guards — corresponding 
 very nearly to the militia of our own country — with 
 students and others, who were expected to act as an 
 escort. They were to be so marshaled that the Na- 
 tional Guards, though without arms, should appear to 
 
REFORM BANQUET FORBIDDEN. 257 
 
 surround and escort the other portions of the assem- 
 blage. The plan was a very skillful one, for the gov- 
 ernment dared not provoke any collision of the troops 
 of the line with the National Guards, who were in fact 
 the chief support of the monarchy ; and though but a 
 small portion of this civic militia would probably obey 
 such an irregular summons, a few of them skillfully 
 distributed around the procession, would effectually 
 shield it from any attack by the regular soldiery. 
 
 Monday evening arrived. The public places were 
 all filled with anxious crowds. The evening papers 
 were looked for, half in terror, half in hope. Knots of 
 men, of all classes, conversed in under tones, while 
 others read aloud extracts from the papers, by torch- 
 light. Between nine and ten o'clock, when, of course, 
 it was too late to prevent the assembling of crowds 
 the next day to witness the procession, — the banquet 
 having been the sole theme of conversation for a fort- 
 night previous, — proclamations were posted about the 
 streets by the police, announcing that no banquet or 
 procession would be permitted, and cautioning the 
 public against tumultuous assemblages in the streets. 
 Wherever these documents were seen, the people col- 
 lected around while one man would read their con- 
 tents to the excited populace. They were then torn 
 down and trampled under foot. Several republicans 
 moved silently from group to group, sounding the 
 disposition of the people, who, artizans, shopkeepers, 
 professional men, all showed but one desire — that of 
 resistance. In restaurants, in reading rooms, the prob- 
 able results of a struggle were calculated, and some 
 asserted, with confidence, that the troops were well 
 
25§ THE EEVOXUTION OF 1848. 
 
 disposed toward the people. Many a student, many an 
 artisan, many an enthusiastic republican, passed the 
 night in cleaning his arms and making ball cartridges 
 preparing for an emergency. That evening, the trains 
 which left Paris were unusually full ; the more foresee- 
 ing and cautious among foreigners and rich citizens, 
 started to leave the country, or seek refuge in their 
 country-houses. Amid moderate men, who wished 
 well to the dynasty, and even to the cabinet, if they 
 would but make concession to the voice of public 
 opinion, stupefaction, terror and sorrow were the 
 paramount feelings. 
 
 A wide difference of opinion arose among the ban- 
 quet committee in regard to obeying the proclama» 
 tions. A minority were inclined to form the procession 
 at all hazards ; but it was finally agreed that the meet- 
 ing should be given up — that the public should be 
 urged to maintain a peaceable attitude, so as to put 
 the government wholly in the wrong — and that the 
 late discussion of the question in the Chambers should 
 be renewed in a form that would lead either to a dis- 
 solution, and then bring it before the electors, or to a 
 change of the cabinet. Articles of impeachment were 
 therefore to be moved against the ministry. It was 
 not expected that these would be carried, but they 
 would suffice to create an agitation that would force 
 the government to give way ; or, failing to do so, the 
 opposition, by resigning in a body, had the power in 
 their hands of an appeal to the people. 
 
 In the morning, a formal announcement that the 
 banquet was deferred, appeared in the papers, and) the 
 government having been assured that no attempt would 
 
THE PEOPLE IN THE STREETS. 25& 
 
 be made to form a procession, the orders that had been 
 given to the troops of the line to occupy the ground 
 and all the avenues leading to the place of meeting, 
 were countermanded. Picquets, only, were stationed 
 in places where crowds might be expected to assemble, 
 sufficient, it was presumed, to disperse a mob ; but no 
 serious disturbance was anticipated, either by the 
 ministry or its opponents. The proclamations of the 
 government, however, and the announcement of the 
 opposition journals, came too late. They had not been 
 read by the multitudes of the working class, who had 
 previously prepared for a holiday, and who, even if 
 they had read the notices, were little inclined to be 
 deprived of their anticipated enjoyment. The major- 
 ity of these might be peaceably disposed, but their 
 presence in the streets was necessarily calculated to 
 render formidable the smaller number bent upon 
 mischief, if an opportunity should arise. 
 
 The morning of the 22d of February was wet and 
 gloomy, but the streets were crowded from an early 
 hour. Crowds of people began to move toward the 
 Madeleine church, in front of which the procession was 
 to have been formed. Many were not aware that the 
 banquet was given up, and Went to witness the parade, 
 while those who knew that the" intention of holding the 
 meeting had been abandoned, went with a vague desire 
 to see what would happen. Others, doubtless, went 
 with a settled determination to provoke an insurrec- 
 tion. About midday a crowd surrounded the Cham- 
 ber of Deputies, which was soon protected against any 
 risk of attack. Some of the windows of the residence 
 of the minister of foreign affairs were broken, and 
 
260 THE EEVOLTTTION OF 1848. 
 
 "Down with Guizot," was the cry ; but in a short time 
 the house was surrounded with troops. The crowd 
 and agitation went on increasing, and in some parts 
 of the city the shops were closed. The multitude 
 around the Madeleine church became formidable in 
 numbers, though no symptoms of disorder or violence 
 were manifested. In fact, with few exceptions, the 
 crowd, amid whom were many well dressed ladies and 
 gentlemen, were excessively good humored. The ma- 
 jority seemed persuaded that the vast display of un- 
 armed Parisians, who had turned out, would induce 
 the minority to give way. Whatever disturbances 
 arose, were the result of the confusion and injuries 
 inflicted by dense masses of people moving impulsively 
 to and fro, as they were impelled by noises or rumors 
 from various portions of the city. Toward the close 
 of the day the excitement grew more intense. In some 
 cases where the erowds could not, or did not, disperse 
 at the command of the military, violence was commit- 
 ted to enforce obedience. The aspect of the masses, 
 who moved away telling what they had seen, was 
 threatening. Consternation sat on the feces of the 
 timid — anger and bitterness on those of the resolute. 
 A few barricades were erected in the streets. In the 
 evening the disturbances were increased. Additional 
 barricades were erected. Coaches and whatever else 
 the multitude could most readily seize, were used for 
 this purpose. The drivers, when their vehicles were 
 seized, led away their horses, in many instances laugh- 
 ing. ""We cannot carry you, (said one to a gentleman,) 
 our carriages are hired — by the nation ! " Gunsmiths' 
 shops were broken open and their contents seized ; the 
 
THE PEOPLE ASSEMBLE. 261 
 
 lamps were extinguished ; and anxiety for the result 
 of the sanguinary contest on the morrow, which had 
 become inevitable, spread through the whole of Pa°ris. 
 
 The court party alone were without apprehension. 
 Although slumbering on the edge of a volcano, they 
 appeared unconscious of danger. Eighty thousand 
 troops of the line had been concentrated in or near 
 Paris. The city was surrounded with forts, to which 
 the troops could retire in case of need, and by which 
 all the principal roads of the metropolis could be 
 commanded. A portion of the National Guard were 
 known to be disaffected, but the general body, it was 
 believed, being composed of the middle classes, who 
 had something to lose, were disposed to assist in the 
 suppression of any riotous demonstrations, that might 
 directly or indirectly affect property; and of the readi- 
 ness of the municipal guard, or armed police to sup- 
 port the government, no doubt was entertained. The 
 worst that was apprehended was the loss of a few lives, 
 and possibly the sacrifice of Guizot and the elevation 
 of Thiers, his rival. 
 
 On Wednesday morning, the 23d, crowds began to 
 assemble at an early hour around the barricades that 
 had been erected during the night. These barricades 
 were attacked and partially destroyed by the munici- 
 pal guards or the regular troops. The morning passed 
 in skirmishes, in which some were killed, and success 
 was generally on the side of the authorities. The 
 people, however, when dispersed in one place, assem- 
 bled instantly in another, and rapidly increased in 
 numbers. The National Guard were called out in the 
 hope that they would aid in the suppression of the 
 
262 THE EBVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 disturbance, and use their influence with the people to 
 prevent the further effusion of blood. But when they 
 appeared in the streets, although they at first wavered 
 as to the course they should follow, it soon became 
 evident they would yield to the contagion of popular 
 enthusiasm, and act with, rather than against the 
 movement. Many uttered the popular watchwords 
 for reform, and deputations were sent in from several 
 of the legions, asking for the dismissal of Guizot. 
 Louis Philippe's heart failed him, and early in the 
 afternoon he announced the appointment of M. M0I6, 
 as the successor of Guizot. Mole for Guizot appeared 
 to the people to be a trick to deceive them. It is in- 
 comprehensible, had not the whole conduct of Louis 
 Philippe been that of one bewildered by events, how 
 he could have supposed that this would satisfy the 
 people. He does not seem to have appreciated the 
 extent of the danger. The impression on his own 
 mind, and that of his family, was, that there was 
 nothing serious. Thiers apparently thought other- 
 wise, and had a long interview with the Duchess of 
 Orleans, in regard to the affair. The officers who 
 visited the various parts of the city, increased the fan- 
 cied security of the royal family, by reporting that 
 there was no likelihood of an insurrection. At the 
 Bame time they assured the king that the plans ar- 
 ranged to suppress any revolutionary movement were 
 such that no fear could be entertained of the result. 
 
 About ten o'clock on "Wednesday evening, occurred 
 the decisive incident that determined the fate of Louis 
 Philippe's dynasty. All the streets were brilliantly 
 illuminated, and every where immense numbers of 
 
SLAUGHTER OF THE PEOPLE. 263 
 
 promenaders, men, women and children, were out en- 
 joying the scene, and rejoicing that the terrible strug- 
 gle of the day had ceased. Processions of workmen 
 and students paraded the streets, celebrating the 
 downfall of Guizot. The house of the deposed minister 
 was protected by a large force of the military. As 
 one of the bodies of workmen was marching through 
 the street near his house, they were suddenly fired 
 upon by the troops. The order to fire was the result 
 of a mistake. The scene which followed was awful. 
 Thousands of men, women, children, shrieking, bawl- 
 ing, racing, were seen flying in all directions, while 
 sixty-two men, women and lads, belonging to every 
 class of society, lay weltering in their blood upon the 
 pavement. Next minute an awful roar, the first breath 
 of the popular indignation, was heard, and then away 
 flew the students, artisans, the shopkeepers, all, to 
 carry the news to the most distant parts of the city, 
 and to rouse the population to arms against a govern- 
 ment, whose satellites murdered the people in this 
 atrocious manner. A squadron of horsemen now 
 charged, sword in hand, over dead and wounded, amid 
 useless cries of "Mind the fallen," and drove the peo- 
 ple before them. The sight was appalling. Husbands 
 were seen dragging their fainting wives from the scene 
 of massacre ; fathers snatching up their children, with 
 pale faces and clenched teeth, hurried away to put their 
 young ones in safety, and then to come out iii arms 
 against the monarchy. "Women clung to railings, 
 trees, or to the wall, or fell fainting on the stones. 
 
 In two hours the terrible news was known all over 
 Paris. During the night 3000 persons arrived by a 
 
264 THE KEVOLTJTION OF 1848. 
 
 monster train from Kouen, with arms and artillery. 
 All thoughts of slumber were abandoned. Groups 
 stood at the corners of the streets. Everywhere barri- 
 cades arose as if by magic. All night the population 
 labored, and the number of persons so engaged may 
 be conceived, when it is stated, that upward of two 
 thousand barricades of the most formidable character 
 were erected. Not less than one hundred and fifty 
 thousand men — some of them National Guards — 
 passed that night in fortifying themselves behind al- 
 most impregnable ramparts, which would have cost 
 many thousand lives to have carried, had the troops 
 remained faithful to the government. 
 
 The king at last became alarmed. Late at night he 
 became convinced that a better guarantee of reform 
 was required than a cabinet formed" by a personal 
 friend of the king, and in which the views of the court 
 party would necessarily retain the ascendancy. Thiers 
 and Odilon Barrot, the leaders of the two sections of 
 the opposition, were sent for to form a ministry. Six 
 hours earlier and the announcement of this fact would 
 probably have satisfied the people and prevented fur- 
 ther tumult. Now it came too late. The demand for 
 reform had been converted by exasperation into a 
 settled purpose of revolution, and the same spirit was 
 likely to extend to the provinces. During the night 
 the departure of the mails had been prevented, and 
 the railways around Paris had been damaged or de- 
 stroyed, at every point at which troopa might be 
 expected to arrive. 
 
 At six on the morning of Thursday, the 24th, Paris 
 was covered with barricades, on which floated the 
 
BACKING OF THE PALAIS EOYAL. 265 
 
 tri-color, (the flag adopted by the revolutionary party 
 of Europe.) Behind the barricades stood resolute men, 
 armed with muskets, swords, pistols and pikes. The 
 tocsin rung the signal for battle, and the fight began 
 between the people and the soldiers of the line. But 
 the troops were ill-disposed to shed the blood of their 
 brethren. At ten, one of the regiments joined the peo- 
 ple. Just at this time a proclamation signed by Thiers 
 and Barrot was distributed through the street. It an- 
 nounced that orders were given the troops to suspend 
 the firing ; that Thiers and Barrot were empowered by 
 the king to form a ministry ; that the Chambers would 
 be dissolved ; and that General Lamoriciere was named 
 Commander-in-chief of the National Guard. The com- 
 mand had previously been given to Marshal Bugeaud, 
 who, beside being unpopular with the people, was in 
 favor of energetic measures against the insurrection. 
 The proclamation announcing the advent of a new 
 ministry was torn in pieces. The tide of insurrection 
 was flowing rapidly, irresistibly, toward the Tuileries, 
 tho king's residence. About noon, the people, headed 
 by numerous detachments of the National Guard, at- 
 tacked the Palais Royal, took it and sacked the royal 
 apartments. The noise penetrated the apartments of 
 the Tuileries. Louis Philippe saw that it was useless 
 lftnger to brave the storm that gathered over his head. 
 ] ;ut one hope was left. He might abdicate in favor of 
 Lis grandson, the Count of Paris, and the heir to the 
 throne. The queen only, of all present, resisted this 
 proposition. She clung to the king and entreated him 
 to be firm, to battle against the people. He gently 
 pushed her aside and wrote — "I lay down the crown 
 
 12 
 
266 THE BEVOLTJTION OF 1848. 
 
 ■which the will of the nation bestowed on me in July, 
 1830. I abdicate in favor of my beloved grandson, the, 
 Count of Paris." Immediately the king and royal fam- 
 ily left the palace, and sought safety in flight. As they 
 departed, the people arrived. The former occupants left 
 so hastily that they had not even breakfasted. The 
 new comers made merry with the adventure, and some 
 sat down to eat the breakfast prepared for the fugitive 
 king. A lad ascended the throne, turned round to the 
 people, and putting his hand on his heart, said, in 
 royal phrase — "Messieurs, it is always with the great- 
 est pleasure that I see myself surrounded by my peo- 
 ple!" The throne was then carried out into the streets 
 and burned. 
 
 The Chamber of Deputies met in the afternoon. 
 The Duchess of Orleans, accompanied by the Duke of 
 Nemours, entered, leading her two sons. The abdica- 
 tion of Louis Philippe, the transfer of royal power to 
 the young Count of Paris, and the appointment of the 
 Duchess of Orleans to the regency, were announced. 
 It was moved that an entry should be made in the 
 journals, of the acclamation which had accompanied 
 to the Chamber, and greeted on their arrival, the Count 
 of Paris as King of France, and the Duchess of Or- 
 leans as regent, under the protection of the national 
 wishes. M. Sauzet, the president, said, that the Cham- 
 ber, by its unanimous acclamations, Here he was 
 
 interrupted on the right and on the left, by the specta- 
 tors. All was confusion. Lamartine moved that the 
 sitting be suspended, out of respect to the national 
 representatives, and to the presence of the Duchess of 
 Orleans. The president announced the suspension of 
 
A" REPUBLIC DEMANDED. 287 
 
 the sitting, until the Duchess of Orleans and the new 
 king retired; After some hesitation, the duchess and 
 her children, with those around her, withdrew from 
 the room. Odilon Barrot exclaimed — "Our duty is 
 clear : the crown of July rests on the head of a child 
 and of a woman : the regency of the Duchess of Or- 
 leans — a ministry selected from among the men of the 
 most tried opinions, will give the best security for lib- 
 erty : he could not undertake the responsibility of any 
 thing else." A crowd of armed men, National Guards, 
 students, and workmen, broke into the Chamber, many 
 of them carrying banners. They loudly denounced a 
 restoration of the monarchy. They exclaimed that the 
 Count of Paris should not be proclaimed king. The 
 cry of many was for a republic. Voices were shout- 
 ing, "No more Bourbons!" "Down with the trait- 
 ors!" "A provisional government!" Many of the 
 deputies retired. Ledru Kollin obtained a hearing. 
 He declared that a regency was impossible. He said 
 that to proclaim the Count of Paris would be a new 
 usurpation. He called for a provisional government, 
 not named by the Chamber, but by the people ; and an 
 immediate appeal to a convention, to settle the rights 
 of the people. Lamartine also spoke. He advocated 
 a provisional government which should prejudge 
 nothing as to the ultimate form of government which 
 it should please the nation to adopt. Here a body of 
 people burst into the hall. Still, amid the confusion, a 
 list of names for the formation of a provisional govern- 
 ment was adopted. From the office of the Reforme 
 newspaper, the organ of the ultra republicans, another 
 list was sent out. By an arrangement, the two rival 
 
268 THE EEVOLUTIOK OF 1848. 
 
 bodies met at the Hdtel de Yille — the government 
 office — and agreed upon a compromise, at first by 
 choosing four of the newspaper set to be secretaries to 
 the other body, but a few days afterward by admitting 
 these four to full membership, the decrees being signed 
 by the whole number without distinction. 
 
 No sooner had the members of the provisional gov- 
 ernment been chosen, than began one of the most re- 
 markable councils ever held by any government. For 
 sixty hours the provisional executive of the nation sat 
 without abandoning their post, now writing decrees, 
 debating them, and sending them forth to the nation 
 by the voice of the printing machine ; now rushing out 
 to do battle for their very existence, as new columns 
 upon columns of people thronged to demand ne\* 
 concessions. Several times the government was on 
 the eve of dissolution. One party demanded the red 
 flag. The majority knew that this was to sanctify the 
 triumph of anarchy. They resisted. The people 
 threatened to rush in and destroy the provisional gov- 
 ernment. Lamartine hastened out, and stood on the 
 stairs of the H6tel de Ville ; but the excited people 
 brandishing their arms, refused to hear him. He per- 
 sisted, and his voice at length drowned the tumult. 
 He was heard, and his effective eloquence brought the 
 people at once back to their senses. They then re- 
 turned to their duties, and before night, the following 
 proclamation was posted up in Paris, while rough 
 proof copies were flying to every part of the country 
 through the post. Though they have appeared largely 
 in the press, it is impossible to avoid giving here these 
 first acts of the government of the Revolution. 
 
PBOCLAMATION TO THE PEOPLE. 269 
 
 PROCLAMATION' OF THE PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT. 
 "to the trench people. 
 
 "A retrograde and oligarchical government has been 
 overthrown by the heroism of the people of Paris. 
 This government has fled, leaving behind it a track of 
 blood which forbids its ever retracing its steps. The 
 blood of the people has been shed, as it was in July ; 
 but this time that generous blood shall not be shed in 
 vain. It has won a national and popular government 
 in accord with the rights, the progress, and the will of 
 this great and noble people. A provisional govern- 
 ment, arising from the urgent acclamations of the 
 voices of the people and the deputies from the depart- 
 ments in the sitting of February 24, is momentarily 
 invested with the charge of organizing and securing 
 the national victory. 
 
 "It is composed of Messrs. Dupont (de l'Eure,) La- 
 martine, Cremieux, Arago (of the Institute,) Ledru- 
 Eollin, Gamier Pages, and Marie. 
 
 "The government has for its secretaries Messrs. 
 Armand-Marrast, Ferdinand Flocon, Louis Blanc, and 
 Albert. 
 
 "The citizens have not hesitated an instant to ac- 
 cept the patriotic mission which was imposed by the 
 urgency of the case. 
 
 "When blood has flowed, when the capital of 
 France is in flames, the mission of the provisional 
 government is public safety. All France will listen to 
 it, and lend it a patriotic concurrence. Under the 
 popular government which the provisional government 
 proclaims, every citizen is a magistrate. 
 
 "Frenchmen! give to the world the example which 
 Paris has given to France! Prepare yourselves, by 
 order and by confidence in one another, for those 
 strong institutions which you are called upon to form ! 
 
 "The provisional government desires a republic, 
 but subject to the ratification of the French people, 
 who shall be immediately consulted. 
 
 " Unity of the nation ! formed henceforth of the 
 classes of which the nation is composed ; the govern- 
 ment of the nation by itself; 'liberty, equality, and 
 
270 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 fraternity ' for principles ; ' the people' for a motto, and 
 the password of 'order!' Such is the democratic 
 government which France owes to herself, and which 
 shall have all our efforts for its establishment." 
 
 A position of greater responsibility, or one encom- 
 passed with more startling difficulties, than that to 
 which the members of the provisional government had 
 been chosen, can scarcely be conceived. France was 
 in a state of anarchy. It was without rulers and with- 
 out law. The Parisian people, the most excitable in 
 the world, and headed by violent, daring and reckless 
 leaders, were driven to the wildest excesses. To pre- 
 vent civil war and all the atrocities and sufferings that 
 were attendant upon the Revolution of 1798 — to calm 
 the furious agitation — to restore and preserve the 
 public tranquillity — and to call a convention, through 
 which the will of the people could be ascertained, and 
 such institutions of state organized as the nation might 
 desire ; this was the task which the provisional gov- 
 ernment had assumed, and well and gloriously, amid 
 the thousand obstacles and difficulties that beset them, 
 did they accomplish it. 
 
 But to Lamartine, the recognized leader and the 
 most active member of the provisional government, is 
 chiefly attributable the merit of having conducted 
 France through so stupendous a crisis, with so little of 
 outrage and so much of noble forbearance. During 
 the paroxysm of this great and wonderful change, La- 
 martine exceeded all the expectations formed of him 
 by his warmest friends, and won the admiration and 
 the enconiums of the world. His name will stand 
 on the page of history, among the greatest and noblest 
 
LAMAKTINE. 271 
 
 statesmen of the nineteenth century. "Wise, firm, be- 
 nevolent and disinterested, he resisted the rash claims 
 ef the people, while he advocated those that were just. 
 Alphonse de Lamartine was born at Macon, Octo- 
 ber 21, 1790. His family name was De Prat, but some 
 years ago he assumed that of his maternal uncle. His 
 father was major of a regiment of cavalry under Louis 
 XVI., and was imprisoned at the time of the overthrow 
 of his royal master. The boy who, more than fifty 
 years afterward, was to play so striking a part in a 
 great revolution, passed many months of his infancy 
 with his father while confined in prison. After the 
 reign of terror, the royalist major was released, and 
 passed the remainder of his days with his family at 
 Milly, an old chateau in Burgundy. From his child- 
 hood young Alphonse was remarkable for his preco- 
 cious intellect. Among the few habitual visitors at 
 the chateau, was the good priest of the neighboring 
 village, who, from his amiable temper and endearing 
 manners, was the delight of all who came within the 
 sphere of his influence, and particularly of the young 
 folks at the chateau, who honored and revered him as 
 a father, without ceasing to love and cherish him as a 
 playmate and companion. On one occasion he had 
 called at the chateau in passing homeward from one 
 of his visitations of duty and benevolence, and nothing 
 could satisfy his young friends, who crowded round 
 him with welcomes and caresses, but his remaining to 
 dine and spend the rest of the day with them. The 
 lady of the chateau joined her solicitations to those of 
 her children, and the priest's inclinations strongly sec- 
 >nded their wishes ; but there was a serious obstacle 
 
272 THE DEVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 in the way. "It is Saturday, (said he,) and I've not 
 prepared a line of my to-morrow's sermon. And to 
 compose a good sermon, (added he, smiling,) is no 
 joke. It will take me all the rest of the day, and it 
 may he, an hour or two of the night." " Oh, if that 's 
 all, (cried Alphonse, who was then but twelve years of 
 age, and who had receded from the crowd of little 
 suitors around the priest, and was contemplating from 
 a window the scene without,) I'll write your sermon for 
 you, sir. I often write sermons, and preach them 
 too — in my head! What shall the text be?" All pres- 
 ent, the priest included, greeted this half-serious, half- 
 jocular sally with good-humored smiles or laughter, 
 and the good man himself appeared to yield to the 
 argument for his stay among them. Accordingly he 
 gave a text at random to the young aspirant for 
 preaching honors, and determined to borrow a few 
 hours from his pillow for the composition of his to-mor- 
 row's discourse. After dinner, Alphonse disappeared 
 from the family party ; but as this was the frequent 
 result of his contemplative habits, nobody took notice 
 of his absence till the priest was preparing for his early 
 departure in the evening — when Alphonse made his 
 appearance with a roll of paper in his hand. "Here 
 is your sermon, sir,", exclaimed he, with a smile of ex- 
 ultation on his beautiful and expressive countenance. 
 The priest, innocently humoring the joke, took the 
 scroll and opened it. "Well, (said he,) let us see 
 what this sermon of our young friend is made of. 
 Suppose we try a little of it upon the present audi- 
 ence;" and he proceeded to open and read it aloud. 
 He had not read many lines, however, before his aspect 
 
LAMAKTINE AS A LEGISLATOR. 273 
 
 and manner became entirely changed. In a word, the 
 child of twelve years of age had produced a compo- 
 sition of deep thought, fervid eloquence, and high 
 poetry, and the priest pronounced it at church the 
 next day to a delighted and admiring audience. 
 
 The early life of Lamartine was one of meditation 
 and of study, rather than of action.' After his depar- 
 ture from college, he passed some time at Lyons, made 
 a brief excursion into Italy, and visited Paris during 
 the last days of the empire. He was already dream- 
 ing of literary, especially of dramatic, renown, and 
 was a favorite with Talma, the greatest of French tra- 
 gedians, who was pleased to hear him recite, with his 
 clear and melancholy voice, the unpublished fragment 
 of a tragedy on Saul. In 1820, the publication of a 
 volume of "Poetic Meditations," placed him in the 
 first rank of French poets. From that period he pub- 
 lished many works, all of which were highly popular. 
 In 1824 he entered diplomatic life as secretary of the 
 legation at Florence. Afterward he went to London 
 in the same capacity, but was subsequently returned 
 to Tuscany as charg6 d'affaires. At London he mar- 
 ried a rich English heiress, by whom he had one 
 daughter. After the Eevolution of 1830, he aspired 
 to a seat in the Chamber of Deputies, but being re- 
 jected by the constituency before whom he presented 
 himself, he undertook an oriental journey with his wife 
 and child. "While in Asia, he received the announce- 
 ment of his election as a deputy from Dunkirk, and in 
 1834, hastened home to take his seat in the Chamber. 
 He did not attach himself particularly to any party, 
 but appeared always as a friend of justice, of humanity, 
 12* 
 
274 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 of tolerance, of morality, and of the poor. He rap- 
 idly rose to the position of one of the first orators of 
 France. His rare courage and independence ; his ar- 
 dent advocacy of all measures calculated to elevate the 
 people and ameliorate their condition ; and his masterly 
 eloquence, all pointed him out as the most suitable 
 head of the revolutionary government, after the over- 
 throw of Louis Philippe. His success at calming the 
 violent, and subduing the obstinate, — his introduction 
 of great, comprehensive and beneficent measures, and 
 his guidance of the state safely through the elections 
 for a constitutional convention, when the national peace 
 was endangered by a turbulent host of ignorant dema- 
 gogues, are proofs that the French people were fortu- 
 nate in making him a member of the provisional 
 government. 
 
 The other members of the provisional government, 
 although they possessed the respect and confidence of 
 the citizens of Paris and of the French people, were 
 scarcely known out of France. Arago, it is true, had 
 obtained celebrity abroad, but as an astronomer and 
 not as a politician. He had, however, been a staunch 
 advocate of republican views for many years. The 
 reputation of the others was almost exclusively local. 
 Dupont de l'Eure, an old man of eighty, and a staunch 
 republican — Cremieux, an able lawyer of the Jewish 
 persuasion — Ledru-Rollin, an ultra democrat of the 
 revolutionary school, earnest and zealous — Marie, a 
 violent agrarian, having an extreme prejudice against 
 the wealthy classes — Gamier Pages, a distinguished 
 financier — Marrast, editor of the "National," a man 
 talented and energetic, with broad and enlightened 
 
LOtTIS PHILIPPE IN EXILE. 273 
 
 sympathies — and Louis Blanc, an enthusiast and a 
 socialist, — these were the most conspicuous members 
 of the provisional government. 
 
 Louis Philippe and all the various members of his 
 numerous household escaped safely to England, and 
 took up their residence at Claremont. The provisional 
 government, instead of making any arrests, seemed to 
 prefer that all might leave France without molestation. 
 
 In exile, the peculiar excellencies and graces of 
 Louis Philippe's character were exhibited in a favor- 
 able light. However grave the errors of his adminis- 
 tration, however reprehensible his conduct as a king, 
 in his family and in his social intercourse he was un- 
 usually affectionate and winning. Those who saw him 
 around his domestic hearth or met him in society, 
 could not fail to admire him. On his arrival in Eng- 
 land, he assumed the title of Count of Neuilly, and 
 though in his own circle, all the respect, and in some 
 degree the etiquette of royalty, were maintained, the 
 exiled king fell easily, and indeed it may be said, 
 naturally, into the character and manners of a private 
 gentleman. The vicissitudes of his earlier days, had 
 confirmed the simplicity of his personal tastes ; and 
 certainly no man that ever existed could have stepped 
 from a throne into the mediocrity of private life with 
 less sacrifice of his ordinary habits, than Louis Phil- 
 ippe. He rose late, and breakfasted with his whole 
 family about ten or eleven. He then read his letters 
 or the newspapers till about one, when he received 
 visitors, of whom, both French and English, there was 
 a pretty constant succession, and with whom he con- 
 versed upon all subjects, with a fluency and propriety 
 
276 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 of dxetion, a copiousness of information, and, above 
 all, with an unreserve and a frankness that surprised 
 those who were not already intimate with him. His 
 conversation was as diversified as his visitors, and, 
 amusing and often instructive to all, it was appropriate 
 to each. His own life was a fruitful topic, on which 
 he was. always ready to speak with frankness, and with 
 a singular indulgence to the curiosity or even the criti- 
 cism of his auditors. He had an excellent memory for 
 family history, as well as for the events of his own long 
 and varied times. Of his reign, and in regard to his 
 overthrow, he spoke with freedom and moderation. 
 "What seemed to touch him most nearly was the indif- 
 ference with which his abdication and departure from 
 France were regarded. He once said to a friend : 
 "When I was on the throne they would say to me — 
 'Sire ! you are the key-stone of the arch on which rests 
 the peace of 'Europe and the world.' I smiled inter- 
 nally at the exaggeration, and thought my shoulders 
 hardly broad enough 'to support the peace of the 
 world.' These, I said to myself, are either flatterers 
 or over-partial friends who exaggerate my influence. 
 Well ; a day came that seemed in some sort to justify 
 that opinion. I fell; and at that moment an explosion 
 of revolutionary wars burst forth throughout Europe — 
 at Vienna, Berlin, Eome, Munich — in Sicily, Lom- 
 bardy, and Hungary; yet not a voice — not one — was 
 heard to ask whether 'this man, whom we have just 
 condemned to die in exile, had not, after all, some little 
 share in that general tranquillity and prosperity of 
 nations which were so generally and so deplorably 
 interrupted by his fall.' Was there due to him no 
 
lotjis Philippe's domestic life. 277 
 
 parting word of condolence — no regret — not even a 
 remembrance — nothing? " 
 
 All his children and grandchildren, even the very 
 youngest, dined at the same time and table with Louis 
 Philippe. He had something particularly fatherly in 
 his character, and was never so happy as when he had 
 his children about him. It was something new to a 
 visitor's eye to see all these children, two or three of 
 them almost infants, sitting at table intermixed with 
 the elder members of the royal family, the ladies and 
 gentlemen in waiting, and a few English and many 
 French occasional guests. Louis Philippe always 
 carved, (as he used to do at the Tuileries,) and seemed 
 to take a kind of good-humored pride in the dexterity 
 and attention with which he helped every body all 
 round the table. He himself was moderate, though 
 not abstemious, both in eating and drinking ; and im- 
 mediately at the end of the dessert, all retired from 
 table at a movement by the queen, and followed their 
 majesties into the saloon. This was the joyous hour 
 for the children. One of the elder princes would amuse 
 them with some new toy — a magic lantern, a lottery, 
 or some general game — or they would riot about the 
 room, and escalade and storm the king's chair as if it 
 were a breach in a fortress. This seemed to delight 
 the king. The queen, the princesses and the ladies, 
 worked at a round table ; sometimes her majesty had 
 a table of whist. The king generally sat in another, 
 part of the room, and either read the newspapers or 
 conversed — especially with any visitors. If, amidst 
 the vast variety of his conversation, a doubt should 
 happen to occur on any topic, he would appeal to the 
 
278 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 excellent memory and judgment of the queen, on which 
 he seemed to place the most entire reliance, or to such 
 one of the princes as he thought likely to be best ac- 
 quainted with the topic in hand. He seemed to take 
 a pleasure in bringing forward the special accomplish- 
 ments of each, and they in general answered his ap- 
 peals with an intelligence and an accuracy that justified 
 his paternal pride, which was evidently one of hia 
 strongest feelings. It was impossible to be half an 
 hour in his company without seeing some indication 
 of his remarkable respect for the queen, and affection 
 for his children. 
 
 In spite of the heavy thoughts that must have 
 weighed upon his mind, his conversation had a strong 
 tendency to cheerfulness and even gayety ; and he en- 
 livened even graver topics by a ready abundance of 
 pleasant illustrations and anecdotes of all the remark- 
 able men he had seen or known — and he had seen 
 and known every man Who had made any figure in the 
 world for the last seventy years — except Bonaparte — 
 about whom, however, he had a considerable store of 
 anecdotes. 
 
 Although seventy-five years of age, Louis Philippe 
 retained his mental and bodily vigor until near the 
 period of his death. In May, 1850, his health began 
 to decline, and toward the last of August, his physi- 
 cian deemed it proper to assure him that his end was 
 rapidly approaching. This intelligence he communi- 
 cated to him in presence of the queen. The kin» 
 
 received the announcement with — for a moment 
 
 something of incredulous surprise and regret, but 
 quickly recovered his composure, and accepted his 
 
louis Philippe's death-bed. 279 
 
 destiny with the calmness and resolution which had 
 characterized his whole life. He remained alone with 
 the queen for some time ; no one can tell what passed 
 between that royal couple, than which there has sel- 
 dom existed one in any rank of life so long, bo unin- 
 terruptedly, and so entirely happy in each other, — 
 bound together by so many domestic ties — by the 
 participation of such exalted fortunes, and by the 
 dearer trials of such reverses and vicissitudes. When 
 at last one of the king's confidential attendants was 
 permitted to enter the room, be saw the aged couple — 
 the king sitting in his usual chair, and the queen 
 standing opposite to him — motionless and tearless, 
 with eyes fixed on each other — like statues. Not a 
 word was spoken till the king, with a firm yet inter- 
 rupted voice, addressed to her some words of love and 
 consolation. These he repeated with an increasing 
 tenderness of voice two or three times. 
 
 He then recollected that about four months before, 
 he had been writing some notes — relative to his return 
 to France in 1814 — and said that he had stopped in 
 the middle of an anecdote which he wished to have 
 finished. He asked for the bunch of keys he always 
 wore, and told General Dumas, who was then in attend- 
 ance, to go to a certain cabinet where he would find 
 the paper. The general seemed not to know which 
 key to use, upon which the king said with a smile, "I 
 could never teach you to distinguish my keys," and, 
 taking the bunch with a trembling hand that did not 
 answer to the energy of the mind, he took off the key, 
 and gave the general exact directions as to the shape 
 and place of the paper. "When the paper was brought, 
 
280 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 the king said, "My hand is already too cold to write, 
 but I will dictate to you." The general sat dowa at 
 the bedside and began to write; and then followed 
 two small incidents which showed the perfect — the 
 minute — possession of his faculties even in that awful 
 moment. Without looking at the paper, or asking 
 what was the last word he had written, four months 
 previous, he went on with his narrative with the very 
 next word that the sense required ; and when he saw 
 the general writing, as he thought, on his own original 
 paper, he said, "You are not writing on my manu- 
 script, I hope ; " but the general showed him that it 
 was a loose sheet which he had only placed on the 
 manuscript to enable him to hold it more steadily. 
 The anecdote itself was of no great importance, and 
 was one which he had often told ; but in the manu- 
 script it had broken off in the middle of a sentence, 
 and as it completed a chapter of his Memoirs, he did 
 not choose to leave it imperfect. 
 
 "When this affair, which occupied but a short time, 
 was over, he announced his desire to receive the sacra- 
 ments of the Catholic Church, and desired that all his 
 children and grandchildren, then at Claremont, with 
 the whole household, should be assembled to witness 
 these last acts of devotion ; and in their presence " he 
 discharged, (says the official announcement of the 
 event,) all the duties of religion with the most per- 
 fect Christian resignation, a stoical firmness, and a 
 simplicity which is the real evidence of human great- 
 ness." The queen and all their children remained for 
 a long time, kneeling, weeping, and praying around 
 the bed, the king appearing perfectly sensible and 
 
DEATH OF LOUIS PHILIPPE. 281 
 
 tranquil, and recognizing with a look of affection every 
 eye that was occasionally raised to him. The fever 
 increased in the night, but did not in the slightest 
 degree affect his mental composure : nay, he seemed at 
 one moment to feel so much better as to give a gleam 
 of hope, which he accepted with alacrity. Even after 
 he ceased to speak, his eye distinguished benignantly 
 the persons around. At length he closed his eyes, and 
 after breathing faintly for some time, without apparent 
 pain, he expired. This event occurred, August 26, 
 1850. 
 
 Upon the overthrow of Louis Philippe, in February, 
 1848, the provisional government of the Republic la- 
 bored energetically to mould the convulsed elements 
 of France into their new form. Large demonstrations 
 of the people, in behalf of various measures, were fre- 
 quently made, while deputations from the Irish, Polish, 
 and Italian revolutionists, demanding assistance from 
 the republican government, considerably embarrassed 
 its operations. Yet the country was saved from serious 
 difficulty by the admirable line of policy adopted by 
 Lamartine and his associates. The bitter dissensions, 
 among all classes, on the subject of socialism, created 
 the most imminent dangers to which the republic was 
 exposed. The Parisian population were so violently 
 agitated by this question, that on several occasions the 
 National Guards were called out to overawe the most 
 turbulent. 
 
 In April, elections were held throughout the country, 
 for deputies to a National Assembly, to organize a con- 
 stitution. Early in May this body, about eight hun- 
 dred in number, assembled at Paris. The members 
 
282 THE KEVOLUTIOH OF 1848. 
 
 of the provisional government presented themselves 
 before this Assembly, the immediate representatives of 
 the people's will, and resigned the informal authority 
 they had exercised over France. The venerable Du- 
 pont de l'Eure, who was chosen to perform this office, 
 read the following address to the Assembly : 
 
 "Citizens! Eepresentatives of the people! the pro- 
 visional government of the Republic comes to incline 
 itself before the nation, and to render conspicuous 
 homage to the supreme power with which you are in- 
 vested. Elect of the people! welcome to the great 
 capital where your presence excites a sentiment of 
 happiness and hope that will not be disappointed. 
 Depositaries of the national sovereignty, you are about 
 to found new institutions upon the wide basis of de- 
 mocracy, and to give to France the only constitution 
 that is suitable to her — that of Eepublic. But after 
 having proclaimed the grand political law, which is 
 henceforth to definitively constitute the country, you 
 will endeavor to employ the efficacious action of the 
 government, as far as possible, in the relations that the 
 necessity of l^bor establishes among all citizens, and 
 which ought to have for a base the holy laws of justice 
 and fraternity. In fine, the moment has arrived for 
 the provisional government to place in your hands the 
 unlimited power with which it was invested by the 
 Revolution. For us, the dictatorship was only treated 
 as a moral power in the midst of the difficult circum- 
 stances we have traversed. Faithful to our origin and 
 our personal convictions, we have all been called to 
 proclaim the rising Eepublic of February. To-day we 
 inaugurate the labors of the assembly, with the cry 
 that always rallies us together, ' Vive la Bepublique! ,n 
 
 Immediately after the organization of the National 
 Assembly, Lamartine, Arago, Gamier Pages, Marie 
 and Ledru-Rollin were elected an executive council to 
 administer the government. Numerous delegations 
 
ATTEMPTED INSUEEECTION. 283 
 
 from clubs and associations entertaining extreme opin- 
 ions on political questions, filled the galleries of the 
 halls, and attempted, sometimes by persuasion and 
 sometimes by threats, to control the action of the As- 
 sembly, and have their favorite views embodied in the 
 new constitution. This was generally the case with 
 those who held radical — and especially with those who 
 held extravagant notions in regard to the attitude 
 which the government justly bears toward the laborers. 
 The more enlightened, discreet and moderate of what 
 may be called the socialist party, took no part in these 
 violent attempts to overawe the Assembly. But the 
 ignorant workmen, feeling that the rights of the masses 
 had always been sacrificed to promote the interests of 
 favored classes, and fearing that the wrongs under 
 which they had smarted were to be continued by the 
 new government, fully determined to obtain justice, 
 though without any definite idea of the measures 
 necessary to accomplish that end ; and having their 
 apprehensions excited and their passions aroused by 
 ambitious and unscrupulous demagogues, were con 
 stantly creating disturbances and embarrassing the 
 action of the government. As early as the loth of 
 May, a band of rioters actually invaded the Assembly — 
 declared its dissolution — and proceeded to the forma- 
 tion of a new provisional government. But they were 
 surrounded by the National Guards, defeated, and their 
 leaders were arrested. Yet the dangerous position of 
 the government was by no means ended by the sup- 
 pression of this insurrectionary movement. The 
 thousands of workmen who had been temporarily 
 employed by the government, seeing that they would 
 
284 THE BEVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 soon be without regular means of support, furnished 
 ready material for the designs of those parties who 
 aspired to the ascendancy. For more than a month 
 the city remained in a disturbed and anxious state, 
 which increased from day to day, until the 23d of 
 June, when another insurrection, more violent and 
 more wide-spread than its predecessor, broke out. 
 Formidable barricades were erected, and on the morn- 
 ing of the 24th, no less than 40,000 insurgents were 
 armed for the struggle. The crisis was a fearful one. 
 The national executive committee were powerless. Its 
 members had formed the provisional government, and 
 as such, immediately after the overthrow of Lonis 
 Philippe, had restored peace to Paris and to the nation 
 by offering employment and liberal wages to all per- 
 sons, in national workshops. This measure, most salu- 
 tary at the time, was inevitably productive of evil 
 results, for as soon as employment was withdrawn 
 from these artisans, they assumed a hostile attitude 
 toward the government. On the 24th, the committee 
 were superseded- by the appointment of General Cav- 
 aignac as military dictator. General Cavaignac had 
 won great distinction in the war against Algeria, and 
 had been at the head of the war department under the 
 provisional government. He immediately declared 
 martial law in Paris, and so prompt and energetic 
 were his measures, that on the 26th of June, after 
 many severe conflicts and great slaughter, the insur- 
 rection was quelled, and peace was restored to the city. 
 The number of killed was variously estimated at from 
 5000 to 10,000. The name of Cavaignac was every- 
 where greeted with the most enthusiastic acclamations. 
 
LOUIS NAPOLEON AGAIN IN PAKIS. 285 
 
 But no sooner were the insurgents subdued, than Cav- 
 aignac, with an unselfish patriotism worthy of the 
 highest admiration and praise, modestly resigned the 
 absolute authority that 'had been placed in his hands. 
 As an expression of their gratitude and confidence, the 
 Assembly determined upon confiding to him the exec- 
 utive power, with authority to appoint his own min- 
 istry. His cabinet was composed of men generally 
 acceptable to the people, and while he remained in 
 power, tranquillity was established in France. 
 
 Louis Napoleon was in London when the Revolution 
 of the 24th of February, 1848, again threw the social 
 elements of France into confusion and doubt. He im- 
 mediately hastened to Paris, (the interdict against his 
 family being now nugatory,) where he was among the 
 first who saluted and recognized the provisional gov- 
 ernment. The provisional government, however, being 
 apprehensive that the presence of the Prince in Paris, 
 might be made a pretext for disturbances by the ene- 
 mies of the republic, he discreetly retired again to 
 London. 
 
 On the 24th of May, the Assembly, by an almost 
 unanimous vote, passed a decree of perpetual banish- 
 ment against Louis Philippe and his family. The law 
 was so worded as to vindicate itself against the com- 
 plaints of those who were affected by it. It ran thus : 
 "The territory of France and her colonies, interdicted 
 forever to the elder branch of the Bourbons, by the 
 law of the 10th of April, 1832, is equally interdicted 
 to Louis Philippe and his family." There was a terri- 
 ble emphasis in the almost entire unanimity with which 
 this retaliatory sentence was pronounced against the 
 
286 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 ex-king and his family. At the passage of this decree 
 a threatening allusion was made to the Bonaparte 
 family by some members of the Assembly. Three 
 members of the Bonaparte family — Pierre Napoleon, 
 son of Lucien : Jerome Napoleon, son of Jerome ; and 
 Napoleon Achille Murat, son of Caroline Bonaparte, 
 and all nephews of the Emperor — had entered France 
 immediately after the Revolution, and had been elected 
 delegates to the National Assembly. They manifested 
 great excitement on the occasion, and asserted theii 
 rights of citizenship on the ground of their election to 
 that body by the people. There was no desire, how- 
 ever, to exclude them from France, Louis Napoleon 
 only being the object of republican jealousy, he having 
 on two occasions attempted to make himself Emperor 
 of France. The proposition thus made in the Assem- 
 bly, drew the following letter from Louis Napoleon : 
 
 TO THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY. 
 
 " London, 23rd May, 1848. 
 
 " Citizen Representatives, — I learn, by the news- 
 papers of the 22d inst., that it has been proposed in 
 the National Assembly to retain against me alone, 
 the law of exile which has been in force against 
 my family since the year 1816 ; I now apply to the 
 representatives of the people to know why I have 
 merited this penalty ? 
 
 "Can it be for having always publicly declared that, 
 in my opinion, France was not the property (apanage) 
 either of an individual, or of a family, or of a party? 
 
 " Can it be because, desiring to accomplish the tri- 
 umph, without anarchy or license, of the principles of 
 national sovereignty, which alone can put an end to 
 our dissensions, I have been twice the victim of my 
 hostility to a government which you have overthrown? 
 
 " Can it be for having consented, out of deference to 
 
THE PKINCE A DELEGATE. 287 
 
 the wish of the provisional government, to return to 
 a foreign country after having hastened to Paris upon 
 the first news of the Ee volution? Can it be because I 
 disinterestedly refused seats in the Assembly which 
 were proffered to me, resolved not to return to France 
 until the new constitution should be agreed upon, and 
 the republic firmly established ? 
 
 "The same reasons which have made me take up 
 arms against the government of Louis Philippe, would 
 lead me, if my services were required, to devote 
 myself to the defense of the Assembly, the result of 
 universal suffrage. 
 
 "In the presence of a king elected by two hundred 
 deputies, I might have recollected that I was heir to 
 an empire founded by the consent of four millions of 
 Frenchmen. In the presence of the national sove- 
 reignty I can, nor will claim more than my rights as a 
 French citizen ; but there, I will demand them with 
 that energy which an honest heart derives from the 
 knowledge of never having done any thing to render it 
 unworthy of its country. 
 
 " Receive, gentlemen, the assurance of my sentiments 
 of high esteem. Your fallen citizen, 
 
 "Napoleon Louis Bonapakte.". 
 
 In the mean time elections had been held in various 
 parts of France, to fill vacancies in the National As- 
 sembly. Louis Napoleon was unexpectedly elected a 
 delegate from five different departments. He ad- 
 dressed the following letter to those who had honored 
 him with their suffrages : 
 
 London, June 11, 1848. 
 
 "Citizens, — Tour suffrages fill me with gratitude. 
 This mark of sympathy, which is the more flattering 
 as I had not solicited it, found me at a moment when I 
 was regretting that I should remain inactive while my 
 country is in want of the co-operation of all her chil- 
 dren, in order to pass out of the difficulties in which 
 She is now placed. 
 
288 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 "The confidence you have reposed in me imposes 
 duties which I shall know how to fulfill. Our in- 
 terests, our sentiments, bur aspirations, are the same. 
 A native of Paris, and now a representative of. the 
 people, I shall join my efforts to those of my colleagues 
 in order to re-establish order, public credit, and indus- 
 try ; to insure peaceful relations abroad ; to consoli- 
 date democratic institutions ; and to conciliate interests 
 which now seem to be adverse to one another, simply 
 because they suspect one another, and clash, instead of 
 marching together toward a single object — that of the 
 prosperity and grandeur of the country. 
 
 "The people have been free since the 24th of Febru- 
 ary. It may obtain any thing, (it requires?) without 
 recourse to brute force. Let us, then, rally ourselves 
 round the altars of the country, under the flag of the 
 republic, and let us present to the world the grand 
 spectacle of a people regenerating itself without vio- 
 lence, without civil contests, without anarchy. 
 
 " Receive, my dear fellow-citizens, the assurance of 
 mj devotedness, and of my sympathies. 
 
 "Louis Napoleon Bonaparte." 
 
 Some days afterward, Louis Napoleon learned that 
 the hostility against him in the Assembly was so great 
 that he could not safely take his seat as a delegate, and 
 he therefore wrote a letter resigning the place to which 
 he had been elected. Ho said — "I wish that my dis- 
 interested nesj should prove the sincerity of my patriot- 
 ism ; I wish that those who charge me with ambition 
 should be convinced of their error." The next month 
 he was elected a delegate from the island of Corsica, 
 but he again declined. In August, however, he deter- 
 mined to become a candidate at the elections called to 
 fill vacancies that had occurred in the Assembly. The 
 result of the election was, that the Prince was returned 
 for the department of the Seine, (Paris,) by 110,752 
 
THE PRINCELY DELEGATE RECEIVED. 289 
 
 votes, and also from Tonne, Moselle, Charente, and 
 Corsica, in all of which he received large majorities. 
 He decided to sit for Paris his native city. 
 
 It was on the 26th of September that Louis Na- 
 poleon Bonaparte took his seat in the National Assem- 
 bly. He had been elected amid such manifestations 
 of popular enthusiasm as to have strengthened the un- 
 easiness and deepened the distrust with which the heir 
 of the Emperor had been viewed by the republican 
 party. It was resolved, however, to treat the Prince 
 with perfect indifference. When Louis Napoleon en- 
 tered the hall he was greeted with no friendly welcome. 
 Quietly, almost timidly, he crept to the seat which was 
 held vacant by his old tutor, M. Yiellard, whose affec- 
 tionate smile and pressure of the hand were the only 
 demonstrations of kindness that had cheered this 
 hitherto unfortunate exile. As soon as the president 
 proclaimed that the citizen Louis Napoleon Bonaparte 
 was a representative of the people, he mounted the 
 tribune without a mark of encouragement. His self- 
 possession did not forsake him as he proceeded to read 
 from a written paper, which, in concise and appropriate 
 language, declared that he owed too deep a debt of 
 gratitude to the republic, which had given to him, after 
 thirty-three years of proscription and exile, a country 
 and the rights of citizenship, not to devote himself to 
 its service. 
 
 Skillful, yet simple, as was this appeal, it did not 
 
 break the icy reserve which had been adopted. It 
 
 was expected and hoped that he would have made his 
 
 appearance in the midst of some theatrical display, 
 
 Borne miserable parody of his wonderful uncle's 
 
 13 
 
290 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 manner, that would have raised a laugh fatal to his 
 popularity. He did quite the reverse. His manner was 
 unassuming, his remarks were full of spirit and dignity. 
 
 Shortly after Louis Napoleon took his seat in the 
 Assembly, a discussion arose upon the articles in the 
 constitution, relative to the presidency. One member 
 proposed the insertion of a proviso declaring that no 
 member of the families who had reigned over France 
 should be elected to that office. This proposition 
 created much agitation, but it was finally withdrawn, 
 in consequence of the solemn and repeated assurances 
 of Louis Napoleon and the other members of the Bo- 
 naparte family in the Assembly, that they were de- 
 voted to the republic, and had no ambitious views to 
 serve by its subversion. 
 
 In his address to the Assembly, on first taking his 
 seat as one of that body, he had said — "My conduct, 
 you may be certain, shall ever be guided by a respect- 
 ful devotion to the law. It will prove, to the confusion 
 of those who have attempted to slander me, that no 
 man is more devoted than I am to the defense of order 
 and the consolidation of the Republic." "When it was 
 proposed to exclude both Bonapartes and Bourbons 
 from eligibility to the presidency of France, Louis Na- 
 poleon, with apparent humility, declared, "that he was 
 too grateful to the nation for restoring to him his rights 
 as a citizen, to have any other ambition." This assur- 
 ance being given, the proposition was withdrawn. In 
 another address to the Assembly, he exclaimed, — 
 "How little do those who charge me with ambition 
 know my heart!" Yet two weeks afterward Louis 
 Napoleon was publicly announced as a candidate for 
 the presidency. 
 
ADDBESS TO THE FRENCH PEOPLE. 291 
 
 The presidential election was to be held on the 10th 
 of December. Louis Napoleon was among the candi- 
 dates, and he lost no time in issuing the following 
 address to the French people. 
 
 "Fellow Citizens, — In order to recall me from 
 exile, you elected me a representative of the people. 
 On the eve of your proceeding to the election of chief 
 magistrate of the republic, my name presents itself to 
 you as a symbol of order and security. 
 
 " These testimonies of a confidence so honorable, are 
 due, I am aware, much more to the name which I bear 
 than to myself, who have as yet done nothing for my 
 country; — but the more the memory of the Emperor 
 protects me, and inspires your suffrages, the more I 
 feel myself called upon to make known to you my 
 sentiments and principles. There must not be any 
 thing equivocal in the relations between us. 
 
 "I am not an ambitious man, who dreams at one time 
 of the empire and of war ; at another of the adoption 
 of subversive theories. Educated in free countries, 
 and in the school of misfortune, I shall always remain 
 faithful to the duties which your suffrages, and the will 
 of the Assembly, may impose upon me. 
 
 " If I am elected president, I should not shrink from 
 any danger, from any sacrifice, to defend society, 
 which has been so audaciously attacked. I should 
 devote myself wholly, without reserve, to the confirm- 
 ing of a republic, which has shown itself wise by its 
 laws, honest in its intentions, great and powerful by 
 Jts acts. 
 
 "I pledge my honor to leave to my successor, at the 
 end of four years, the executive powers strengthened, 
 liberty intact, and a real progress accomplished. 
 
 " Whatever may be the result of the election, I shall 
 bow to the will of the people ; and I pledge before- 
 hand, my co-operation with any strong and honest 
 government which shall. re-establish order in principles 
 as well as in things ; which shall efficiently protect our 
 religion, our families, and our properties — the eternal 
 
292 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 basis of every social community ; which shall attempt 
 all practicable reform, assuage animosities, reconcile 
 parties, and thus permit a country rendered anxious 
 by circumstances, to count upon the morrow. 
 
 "To re-establish order is to restore confidence — to 
 repair, by means of credit, the temporary depreciation 
 of resources — to restore financial positions and revive 
 commerce. 
 
 " To protect the religion and the rights of families, is 
 to insure the freedom of public worship and education. 
 
 " To protect property is to maintain the inviolability 
 of the fruits of every man's labor ; it is to guarantee 
 the independence and the security of possession, an 
 indispensable foundation for all civil liberties. 
 
 "As to the reforms which are possible, the following 
 are those which appear to me to be the most urgent : — 
 
 " To adopt all those measures of economy, which, 
 without occasioning disorder in the public service, will 
 permit a reduction of those taxes which press most 
 heavily on the people — to encourage enterprises which, 
 while they develop agricultural wealth, may, both in 
 France and Algeria, give work to hands at present 
 unoccupied — to provide for the relief of laborers in 
 their old age, by means of provident institutions — to 
 introduce into industrial laws, modifications which may 
 tend not to ruin the rich for the gain of the poor, but 
 to establish the well-being of each upon the prosperity 
 of all. 
 
 "To restrict within just limits the number of em- 
 ployments which shall depend upon the government, 
 and which often convert a free people into a nation 
 of beggars. ! 
 
 "To avoid that deplorable tendency which leads the 
 state to do that which individuals may do as well, and 
 better, for themselves. The centralization of interests 
 and enterprises is in the nature of despotism : the 
 nature of a republic is to reject monopolies. 
 
 " Finally, to protect the liberty of the press from the 
 two excesses which endanger it at present — that of 
 arbitrary authority on the one hand, and of its own 
 licentiousness on the other. 
 
GENERAL CAVAIGNAC. 293 
 
 "With war we can have no relief to our ills. Peace, 
 therefore, would be the dearest object of my desire. 
 "France, at the time of her first Revolution, was war- 
 like, because others forced her to be so. Threatened 
 with invasion, she replied by conquest. Now she is 
 not threatened, she is free to concentrate all her re- 
 sources to pacific measures of amelioration, without 
 abandoning a loyal and resolute policy. A great 
 nation ought to be silent, or never to speak in vain. 
 
 "To have regard for the national dignity is to have 
 regard for the army, whose patriotism, so noble and 
 so disinterested, has frequently been neglected. "We 
 ought, while we maintain the fundamental laws which 
 are the strength of our military organization, to alle- 
 viate, and not aggravate, the burden of the conscrip- 
 tion. We ought to take care of the present and future 
 interests, not only of the officers, but likewise of the 
 non-commissioned officers and privates, and prepare a 
 certain means of subsistence for men who have long 
 served under our colors. 
 
 "The republic ought to be generous, and have faith 
 in its future prospects ; and, for my part, I, who have 
 suffered exile and captivity, appeal with all my warm- 
 est aspirations to that day when the country may, 
 without danger, put a stop to all proscriptions, and 
 efface the last traces of our civil discords. 
 
 "Such, my dear fellow-citizens, are the ideas which 
 I should bring to bear upon the functions of govern- 
 ment, if you were to call me to the presidency of 
 the republic. 
 
 "The task is a difficult one — the mission immense. 
 I know it. But I should not despair of accomplishing 
 it ; inviting to my aid, without distinction of party, all 
 men who, by their high intelligence or their probity, 
 have recommended themselves to public esteem. 
 
 "For indeed, when a man has the honor to be at the 
 head of the French nation, there is an infallible way to 
 succeed, and that is to desire to do so. 
 
 "Louis Napoleon Bonaparte." 
 
 The remaining candidates for the presidency were 
 
294 THE EETOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 General Cavaignac, Lamartine, Ledru-Kollin, and Ras- 
 pail. A few days showed that there were only two 
 who could dispute the great prize — General Cavaignac 
 and Louis Napoleon. The first had all the claims 
 arising from undoubted personal merit and eminent 
 services to his country. The other bore a name dear 
 to the French people ; and, if he had committed great 
 faults, he had paid the atonement of great sufferings, 
 which he had borne patiently. Within the five months 
 that General Cavaignac governed France, he had 
 given proofs of every qualification necessary to the 
 head of a republic He had come before the nation an 
 almost unknown man. He had never held a chief 
 command in Algeria before February ; but as Colonel 
 and then Brigadier Cavaignac, he had been esteemed 
 as a highly meritorious officer. He was a man who 
 never sought to push himself into notice or to attract 
 attention to his acts. He drew up a report once of an 
 affair in which he had been severely wounded, without 
 mentioning his wound. Appointed governor of Al- 
 geria by the provisional government, he set at once 
 about his duties, and it was remarked that the first 
 paper which he issued on his appointment was of a 
 singularly superior kind. Called home to take the 
 post of minister of war, he applied himself to the duties 
 of his department as if he had no other object to at- 
 tend to. He sought not to attract attention to himself 
 by speeches, and he dreamed not of intrigues. When, 
 to his clear judgment, a battle was impending, he 
 prepared to meet it; when it came, he mounted his 
 horse and inspected the barricades with that concen- 
 trated intensity of purpose which would not allow him 
 to ward off the u " 11 " A -'~— -*—-* *--- *--- J = 
 
THE PBESIDENTIAX ELECTION. 295 
 
 Elevated to the head of the government, he applied 
 himself to the study of foreign affairs, and having 
 satisfied his mind that peace was for the interests of 
 France, he determined that no earthly consideration 
 should induce him to entangle the country in a war, 
 so long as her honor was not affected. Taking the 
 lead in every debate, he never said a word more than 
 was essential for the purpose of making known the 
 views of government. Nor would he have spoken at 
 all if he did not deem it to be his duty to accept, 
 frankly, the burden that had been placed on his 
 shoulders. Regarding situations exactly as they were, 
 he recognized that, pending the proposition of the con- 
 stitution, his government was only provisional ; that 
 the Assembly was master, and that he should, as in 
 duty bound, execute the wishes of the Assembly so 
 long as he held its confidence. 
 
 The election of General Oavaignac to the presidency 
 of the republic was by his partisans deemed secure. 
 He was a man whom no situation had taken by sur- 
 prise ; and as all situations had been met and filled 
 with perfect ability, the measure of such a man's ca- 
 pacity could not even yet be said to have been reached. 
 New trials were before the republic, and there was 
 the man, who, holding a true, straightforward course, 
 and taking things as he found them, could yet adapt 
 himself to an encounter with any difficulty with mar- 
 velous plasticity. At the prime of life — tall, well- 
 formed, and dignified; with the proud head of a 
 Coriolanus, and the sensibility of the stoical Brutus. 
 His quickness to feel suspicion or Blight, explains why 
 he shunned occasions for display. This characteristic 
 
296 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848. 
 
 quality explains, too, his tenure of office in times so 
 difficult; for his readiness to resign power secured 
 power in his hands. Thus, brave, proud, sensitive, 
 dignified, able, and unostentatious ; full of republican 
 zeal, and yet anxious for the maintenance of all social 
 rights, as consecrated by the sentiments, habits, reli- 
 gion, and laws of society ; a moral and military disci- 
 plinarian ; it would seem as if providence had sent the 
 right man at the right time to the French people, and 
 they rejected him. Although rejecting, they revered 
 and esteemed him. 
 
 The election day arrived. The weather was of ex- 
 traordinary clearness and beauty for the season ; the 
 animal spirits of the people rose cheerfully. The name 
 of Napoleon proved a charm for the peasantry, who 
 marched to the ballot-boxes with outspread banners. 
 In the leading towns, Cavaignac was well supported ; 
 but the farmers and peasantry voted almost unani- 
 mously for the heir of the Emperor. It was calculated 
 that it would take a fortnight, at least, to examine the 
 votes ; but the result was not doubtful from the first 
 hour. Conjectures of an injurious character to Gen- 
 eral Cavaignac were hazarded by people who did 
 not know the man ; the unworthiness of these asper- 
 sions was soon demonstrated. On the evening of the 
 20th of December, an unusual movement was observed 
 in Paris. Troops, appearing in all directions, were 
 seen converging to one point — the National Assembly. 
 The avenues to the Assembly bristled with bayonets, 
 and were animated by cavalry. It had been resolved 
 upon suddenly to proclaim the president of the re- 
 public, without waiting until all the votes had been 
 counted. The reason assigned for this star, woo +« 
 
RESULT OF THE ELECTION. 297 
 
 defeat by anticipation the suspected designs of a party, 
 to carry Louis Napoleon from the Assembly to the 
 Tuileries, and there abrogate the oath to the republic, 
 by proclaiming him Emperor. But the ceremonial of 
 inaugurating the newly elected president was not at- 
 tended by any disturbance. On counting the votes, it 
 was found that 7,327,345 had been cast, and that of 
 these — 
 
 The Citizen Louis Napoleon Bonaparte had obtained 5,434,226 
 
 The Citizen Cavaignac 1,448,107 
 
 TheCitizen Ledru-Rollin 370,110 
 
 The Citizen Raspail 36,920 
 
 The Citizen Lamaitine 17,810 
 
 General Cavaignac rose, and without preface, 
 handed in the resignation of ministers, adding simply, 
 " I came also to resign into the hands of the Assembly 
 the power with which it was good enough to invest 
 me. The Assembly will comprehend, much better 
 than I can express, the sentiments of gratitude that its 
 confidence and kindness have ineffaceably engraved 
 on my memory." A burst of enthusiastic plaudits 
 accompanied the gallant General to his seat. The suc- 
 cessful candidate was then proclaimed president of the 
 republic, and after a short address, delivered with 
 fervor — an address conceived in the most unostenta- 
 tious language, and breathing of peace and concord, 
 Louis Napoleon descended from the tribune and 
 walked to the place where sat his honored rival, whose 
 hand he respectfully took and pressed, amidst renewed 
 applause. The Assembly needed no fresh proof of the 
 magnanimity of Cavaignac ; but the behavior of Louis 
 Napoleon at this, the first hour of his triumph, pro- 
 duced a most favorable impression, and tended to 
 remove many prejudices. 13* 
 
CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 The history of France, during the past sixty years, 
 bears a striking resemblance to those fabrications of 
 oriental genius, in which human events are continually 
 under the guidance of spirits of the air — in which 
 fantastic fallacies are erected by a spell, and the treas- 
 ures of the earth developed by the wave of a wand — ■ 
 in which the mendicant of this hour is exalted into the 
 prince of the next ; and while the wonder still glitters 
 before the eye, another sign of the necromancer dis- 
 solves the whole pageant into air again. A king of 
 France is seized by his subjects and beheaded. The 
 country is torn in pieces by fierce and conflicting fac- 
 tions. Everywhere confusion, bloodshed and suffering, 
 are witnessed. Suddenly an unknown stripling rushed 
 forward, collected the scattered fragments of the Revo- 
 lution and combined them in a new and powerful 
 shape, changed anarchy into order, and subdued all 
 factions to his will. Through the clouds and tempests 
 of the Revolution, he sprung into the highest position 
 of power. Placing an imperial crown upon his own 
 brow, he led his triumphant armies over all Europe. 
 Impetuous and daring, from the first hour of his public 
 life, the government of this imperial despot was, like 
 himself, a model of fierce and indomitable energy 
 
INSTABILITY OF THE MONABCHT. 299 
 
 "Whatever was to him an object of ambition, was in- 
 stantly in his grasp, and whatever he seized was made 
 the instrument of a fresh seizure. He was apparently 
 the agent of Providence for the punishment of a long 
 course of kingly guilt. He crushed the monarchs of 
 Europe in bloody encounters ; captured their capitals ; 
 plundered their provinces, and humbled their pride by 
 contemptuous and bitter conditions of peace. But 
 when his destined work was done — when the victims 
 were broken on the wheel, the wheel and the execu- 
 tioner were alike hurried from the scene. The man 
 who had guided the empire of France in its track of 
 conquest and devastation — the soul of all its strength 
 and of its ambition — was swept away. History has 
 no record of so much power, so widely distributed, 
 and apparently so fixed above all the ordinary casual- 
 ties of the world, so instantly and completely over- 
 thrown. This man of boundless but brief grandeur, 
 died a captive on a distant rock, but his sepulcher was 
 placed in the midst of that people so slow to learn that 
 ambition always pays for its splendor by its calami- 
 ties ; that the strength of a nation is in the justice of 
 its councils; and that "he who uses the sword shall 
 perish by the sword." Upon the fall of Napoleon, the 
 family overthrown and driven into exile by the Revolu- 
 tion, was again restored to the throne of France. But 
 they were permitted to occupy it for only a brief period. 
 Scarcely fifteen years had passed away when another 
 king of France was dethroned. So sudden was the 
 Revolution, so unexpected the catastrophe, that the 
 king apprehended no danger until his power was gone. 
 He left the card table, to which he had sat down in 
 
300 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 fancied security, to flee from his palace and from his 
 kingdom. France accepted another king. He passed 
 the seventeen years of his reign in carefully fortifying 
 his throne. But one morning, when his power was ap- 
 parently the greatest, and when his dynasty seemed to 
 be firmly established, the door of the breakfast room, 
 where he was calmly seated with his family, was thrown 
 open and two men entered, pale as ghosts. They were 
 ministers of state. Their news was as unexpected as 
 it was momentous. Discontent prevailed in the city ; 
 the populace were out ; the soldiers were disarmed ; 
 the king's infuriated subjects were approaching the 
 very apartment in which he had but just enjoyed his 
 meal. It was enough. "Let us go," exclaimed the 
 monarch, and leaning heavily upon the queen, whose 
 head was erect and haughty, he hurried away. He 
 escaped from his capital. Then shaving off his whisk- 
 ers, putting on green spectacles, burying his face in his 
 handkerchief, speaking English, and calling himself 
 William Smith, he embarked for England. The other 
 members of the royal family crept into hiding places, 
 until they could find opportunities to escape over the 
 frontiers. Is this history or fiction ? reality or illusion ? 
 The most substantial power fades suddenly away, as 
 if by the enchantment of the genii of the "Arabian 
 Nights" — kings, to human view, firmly seated on their 
 thrones, become, by the changes of an hour, proscribed 
 and hunted fugitives — friendless and impoverfshed 
 exiles are as rapidly and unexpectedly snatched from 
 their obscurity and poverty, and invested with supreme 
 power and unlimited wealth ! The kings of the earth 
 are not commonly undone by a single blow ; kingdoms 
 
THE EMPKESS MARIA LOUISA. 301 
 
 do not change their dynasties without a struggle. But 
 the four diadems of the Napoleon race, as well as those 
 of the Bourbon and Orleans families, fell from their 
 wearers' brows with scarcely a touch from the hands 
 of man. 
 
 We have followed one of the Bonaparte family, from 
 the splendor of his uncle's imperial court into a long 
 and unfortunate exile, and from exile back again to 
 the highest dignity in his native France : it will not 
 be uninteresting to follow the varying fortunes of the 
 other members of the Bonaparte family, scattered as 
 they were, at the time of Napoleon's death, over all 
 parts of the civilized world. And first, of Maria 
 Louisa, the wife of the Emperor, and her infant son, 
 the King of Home. 
 
 Maria Louisa at the time of her marriage with Na- 
 poleon, in 1810, was nineteen years of age, tall and 
 fair, but not beautiful. She had been taught, like all 
 princesses, to embroider, to paint, and to play on the 
 piano. Beyond this she was educated in little else 
 than hatred of Bonaparte and the French; for the 
 king-slayers had been twice at the gates of her father. 
 Austria had twice lost all, and had nothing to give, 
 when the lion roared for more prey, except her own 
 flesh and blood. So Maria Louisa was yielded up. 
 The mild creature never had an independent wish of 
 her own ; she never knew how to show any reluctance 
 to other people's demands. She had been taught to 
 hate, and she hated ; she was now bidden to love, and 
 she married. When, in 1814, dangers and disasters 
 were thickening around the devoted head of her im- 
 perial husband, she hastened the catastrophe by fleeing 
 
302 
 
 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 from France with her reluctant infant. From this 
 moment she considered herself to be virtually divorced 
 from him. The idea of sharing his misfortunes, and 
 of soothing his agony, never entered her head. He 
 became once more the arch-fiend and ogre of her child- 
 hood. His solicitations that she should join him were 
 disregarded. From the first instant of her departure 
 from Paris, no symptom of affection for her husband, 
 or sympathy for his fate, was witnessed in her. After 
 her return to Austria, her time was spent in the most 
 frivolous occupations. She even joined her relations 
 in their clamorous rejoicings at the enemy's downfall. 
 Her aunt, Maria Caroline of Naples, gave her a hint as 
 to the propriety of tying up her bed-clothes, to let her- 
 self down from a window, and of joining her husband 
 at Elba. But Maria Louisa evinced no desire to cling 
 to the wreck of departed greatness. In the duchy of 
 Parma, over which the allied powers had promised to 
 make her sovereign, all her ambition was centered. 
 She dwelt, with an inconceivable fondness, on the pros- 
 pects of unshared sovereignty ; and her anxiety for the 
 exercise of undivided dominion was increased by the 
 artful postponement of its enjoyment. The allies re- 
 quired her to divest herself of her proud titles; to 
 forget her husband ; to deliver all his letters into her 
 father's hands ; to cease from all correspondence with 
 him ; to surrender her son to an Austrian governess ; 
 to renounce, in his name, all rights of succession to the 
 French throne ; to rebaptize him as Charles Joseph, 
 Duke of Eeichstadt ; and to suffer him to linger be- 
 hind, in a kind of imprisonment, at Schonbrunn. Her 
 obedience outdid even the immoderateness of their 
 
MAEIA LOUISA. 303 
 
 demands. She was, above all things, eager to" advance 
 her prospects as a candidate for an Italian principality. 
 
 In 1814, while Napoleon was at Elba, she was permit- 
 ted to go, unattended by her son, to the baths of Aix, 
 in Savoy. There she was tempted into a career of 
 profligacy. Her father, who had sacrificed her heart 
 as a bride, seemed not unwilling to even immolate her 
 fame as a wife. All that remained pure and ingenuous 
 in the character of the ex-empress was corrupted among 
 the pleasures and dissipations at Aix. She became 
 discreditably intimate with the Count of Neipperg, a 
 Hungarian nobleman. In one of his early campaigns 
 the count had lost an eye ; but that honorable wound 
 was carefully covered by a black band drawn round 
 the brow in the shape of a diadem, and there re- 
 mained charm enough in the one eye he had left to 
 drive Napoleon's image from the heart of Maria- 
 Louisa. As her private secretary, the count was 
 brought into the closest intimacy with his royal mis- 
 tress. In consultations of state, (for the duchess busied 
 herself much respecting her future subjects,) as well as 
 in parties of pleasure, riding, dancing, or traveling, 
 they were inseparable. She was encouraged in this 
 career of folly, not only by the courts of Europe, but 
 by her own father. In her and in her sickly son, the 
 Duke of Keichstadt, were centered the hopes of the 
 Eonapartists. As a virtuous woman she would have 
 still been formidable ; but she soon ceased to be 
 virtuous. 
 
 Her base intrigues with Neipperg continued at 
 Vienna, wnere the count accompanied his sovereign 
 lady in September, 1814. A few months afterward 
 
304 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 Napoleon was again triumphant in Paris. Maria 
 Louisa was in a fever of anxiety about her hard-won 
 Italian sovereignty, which that untimely invasion 
 might wrench from her grasp. Under that apprehen- 
 sion she solemnly disclaimed all knowledge of, or 
 participation in, her husband's enterprise, and im- 
 plored the protection of her father and the allies against 
 him, as against her most dangerous enemy. She re- 
 jected all his advances, revealed and frustrated an 
 attempt made by his friends to carry her off with her 
 child, and then sat down to embroider banners for the 
 Austrian regiments warring against him ! 
 
 In 1816, surrounded by pomp and magnificence, 
 with her one-eyed secretary by her side, Maria Louisa 
 was permitted to enter her insignificant principality. 
 
 The duchy of Parma, Placenza, and Guastalla is one 
 of the most fertile and beautiful districts in the valley 
 of the Po. It is about 2,200 square miles in extent, 
 and the population has never exceeded half a million. 
 In the middle ages it consisted of three petty states : 
 they shed their best blood in endless as well as useless 
 feuds, till, after passing from one tyrant's hands to 
 another's — from Correggio to Visconti, and from 
 Visconti to Este — they were finally united into an 
 independent duchy by Pope Paul III., who invested 
 his illegitimate son, Pier Luigi Farnese, with the 
 sovereignty ; and although that son of a pope did not 
 fare too well at the hands of his subjects, who strangled 
 and flung him from a high window of the citadel of 
 Placenza into the moat beneath, yet the sovereignty 
 remained in possession of his descendants, some of 
 whom became famous, or infamous, in history. Like 
 
MABSA LOUISA. 305 
 
 most other Italian reigning families, the Farnese be» 
 came extinct from their impotence, occasioned by 
 habitual debauchery, in 1748. The ill-fated duchy 
 became a bone of contention for all the powers of 
 Europe, and had, in the end, to pay most of the expense 
 of the wars it had given rise to. It was finally 
 adjudged to belong to Don Philip, one of the Spanish 
 Bourbons. Don Philip having broken his neck in the 
 chase, Don Ferdinand, his son and successor, called 
 the bell-ringer from his partiality for that pious and 
 healthy exercise, found himself, involved in the great 
 catastrophe of the French invasion, and, in 1802, his 
 duchy was united to France. To the prejudice of the 
 heir of Don Ferdinand, an illegitimate child, the duchy 
 was bestowed upon Maria Louisa. Her reign was 
 one of gayety and extravagance. She lavished large 
 sums upon the erection of a theater, and was proud of 
 possessing an unrivaled orchestra ; she bid a cheer--'' 
 ful welcome to all the strolling fiddlers and play- 
 ers who applied to her for patronage. She took an 
 active part in all the gorgeous processions, and was 
 the 60ul of the carnival. Her theaters, her menageries 
 and aviaries ; her superb villas and magnificent train ; 
 her regiment of grenadiers ; her profuse liberality to 
 mimes and charlatans, — before long exhausted her 
 revenue. Already, at her arrival, the new duchess 
 had been preceded by a decree raising a sum of 
 $600,000, with which her subjects were to pay for the 
 honor of receiving an Austrian archduchess for their 
 liege lady. Ever afterward, money went over to 
 Austria, under a thousand pretexts, and without pre- 
 texts. It was now a tribute of vassalage, now a 
 
306 THE BONAPABTE FAMILY. 
 
 bargain of allegiance. Parmesan manufactures were 
 dosed, as injurious to Austrian industry. Parmesan 
 steamboats on the Po were stopped, as encroaching on 
 Austrian commerce. Ignorance and filial submissive- 
 ness might account for this mismanagement of her 
 subjects' interests. She knew she could do no better. 
 But the amount of her own prodigality, and the foolish 
 expenses of her endless journeyings, were not less fatal 
 to the state than the insatiate cupidity of Austria. 
 She was never long in her own dominions. Now she 
 had her son to embrace at Munich ; now a new gown 
 to try on at Milan ; then a wedding to attend, or a 
 christening, or a funeral ; and wherever she went, 
 there followed a long caravan of dames, pages, grooms, 
 lapdogs and monkeys. She went through Europe as 
 an empress. Newspapers expatiated on her splendid 
 attire and her unbounded liberalities. No one knew 
 what terrible grinding all this extravagance inflicted 
 on her people. 
 
 The scandalous intimacy of Maria Louisa with 
 Neipperg was continued until she heard of the death 
 of Napoleon at St. Helena, when she married her 
 one-eyed lover. Three children were the offspring of 
 this connection. If we are to believe all the scandals 
 current at Parma, Neipperg had no easy time with his 
 mistress. Her confessor, a German youth, stout and 
 rosy, was made a bishop to remove him from his too 
 fond penitent. Captain Crotti, a handsome Italian, 
 and Mac Aulay, an ardent Irishman, it was thought 
 judicious to remove from the neighborhood of the 
 susceptible lady.] But Neipperg died in 1828, and 
 Maria Louisa was free again to select her favorites. 
 
THE SON OF BONAPARTE. 307 
 
 During the revolutions of 1838, the successor of 
 Neipperg, for the time being, was a Baron Verclein, 
 who was far from being popular with the Parmese. 
 He and his mistress were driven from the duchy. 
 She was finally permitted to return, but the favorite 
 was not. Instead ,"sihe was constrained to accept of 
 one Mistrali, as principal minister of state. This 
 able and conscientious man undertook to repair the 
 shattered finances of the principality ; and by a wise 
 and firm rule he got his sovereign out of debt. The 
 duchess herself was the first victim of the minister's 
 economical schemes. He reduced her household ; 
 bullied her singers and fiddlers from the court ; car- 
 ried havoc and devastation among her parrots and 
 monkeys ; sold her diamonds and melted her jewels. 
 The results of this policy was an unembarrassed ex- 
 chequer. Maria Louisa would have grumbled, but she 
 dared not. 
 
 In this state of distress she bethought herself of the 
 priests. Like many a wanton, she was destined to die 
 a bigot. In 1834 she grew devout and married 
 Bombelles, an old dandy, at the same time. She 
 spent the remainder of her days mostly at Schon- 
 brunn, for her subjects hated her too cordially to 
 make her residence in Parma agreeable to her. She 
 died in the year 1848. 
 
 The life of young Napoleon makes but a meager little 
 story, interesting, one might say, only from its very 
 insignificance. As if to sever him completely from 
 all the circumstances that had marked his birth, he 
 had hardly set his foot in Austria when the very name 
 he bore was taken from him. During his mother's 
 
308 THE BOKAPAETE .FAMILX. 
 
 life, he was to depend on her, and her only ; after her 
 death, he was to enter on the possession of a property 
 assigned to him by his grandfather — an estate in 
 Bohemia, with a revenue of about $100,000. In the 
 mean time, laying aside his baptismal name of Na- 
 poleon-Francois, he was to assume the name and title 
 of Francis Joseph Charles, Duke of Eeichstadt, rank- 
 ing, by virtue of that title, among' the nobility of the 
 Austrian empire, immediately after the princes of the 
 imperial family, the archdukes of Austria. 
 
 Only three years of age when he went with his 
 mother to reside at Schonbrunn, the young Duke of 
 Eeichstadt spent the whole remainder of his life either 
 there or at Vienna ; only on one or two occasions 
 traveling from either beyond the distance of a few 
 miles. By his grandfather, the Emperor, as well as by 
 all the other members of the royal family, he seems 
 to have been always treated with extreme kindness. 
 After the departure of his mother for her Italian states, 
 he was committed to the care of various masters, 
 under the superintendence of an Austrian nobleman. 
 Regarding his early education, only two facts of any 
 interest are mentioned : his excessive reluctance at 
 first to learn German, which, however, soon became 
 more his own than French ; and his fondness for his- 
 torical reading, and especially for books relating to the 
 career of his father. As a boy, he was, on the whole, 
 dull, grave, and mirthless ; but docile and affectionate. 
 
 The news of his father's death, which occurred when 
 he was ten years of age, is said to have produced a 
 visible effect on him. It was evident, indeed, that the 
 boy, young as he was, had been brooding in secret 
 
THE SON OF BONAPARTE. 309 
 
 over the mystery of his own changed condition, and 
 cherishing, as well as he could, the thought of his con- 
 nection with the extraordinary being whom he could 
 dimly recollect as his father ; whose busts and portraits 
 he could still see ; and who, as they tried to explain to 
 him, was now living shut up in an island on the other 
 side of the earth, whither the nations of Europe had 
 conspired to send him for their own safety. This 
 thought of his father became the boy's single passion ; 
 and when he could no longer think of that father as 
 still existing on the earth, his respect for his memory 
 amounted to a worship. Every book that could tell 
 him any thing about his father, he devoured with 
 eagerness ; and if he chanced to hear of the arrival 
 of any one at Yienna who had had personal relations 
 with the Emperor, he was uneasy till he had seen him. 
 At last, to gratify this anxiety for information about 
 his father, his tutors, at his grandfather's command, 
 began to instruct him systematically in modern history 
 and politics ; concealing from him nothing that could 
 enlighten him as to the real course of his father's life, 
 and its effects on the condition of Europe, and only 
 adding such comments and expositions as might make 
 him aware, at the same time, in what points his father 
 was thought to be reprehensible. Perplexed by such 
 lessons in history, the poor boy did his best to come to 
 the right conclusion, and to express himself judiciously 
 to his tutors regarding what he was taught to con- 
 sider his father's errors and excesses. In all cases of 
 feeling and instinct, however, the memory of his 
 father prevailed. The very books that his father had 
 liked, such as Tasso and Ossian, became, for that 
 
310 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 reason, his favorites. His father's campaigns and 
 dispatches he made a subject of diligent study, using 
 them as texts for his own military lessons. In short, 
 before he had attained his seventeenth year, he had 
 read and re-read every thing that had been written 
 regarding Napoleon, and had fixed in his memory all 
 the most minute particulars relating either to his 
 military or political life, the names of his generals, his 
 chief battles, and the various incidents in his long 
 career, from his birth in Corsica to his burial in St. 
 Helena. One point in this great history he would 
 dwell on with special interest — that, amid universal 
 acclamations, he himself had come into the world the 
 unconscious heir of a mighty empire. 
 
 This brooding on the past naturally assumed, as he 
 grew up, the form of a restless anxiety, 'respecting the 
 future. That he, the son of Napoleon, was no common 
 person ; that, as the possessor of a great name, superior 
 actions and qualifications would be required of him ; 
 that in some way or other, he must take part in the 
 affairs of Europe — such was the idea that inevitably 
 took possession of him. The pedantry of his teachers 
 appears to have fostered it to an undue extent. If, for 
 example, the poor youth contracted an admiration for 
 the poet Byron, his teachers were at hand to criticise 
 the poet for him, and reduce his opinion to the just 
 shape and standard, lest he should commit what in his 
 case would be the signal impropriety of exaggerated 
 praise. If, again, he was seen to be falling in love 
 with a lady of his grandfather's court, they were at 
 hand to reason him out of the affair by considerations 
 of what was due to his peculiar situation, and his 
 
THE SON OF NAPOLEON. 311 
 
 importance in the public eye. "With this notion of the 
 peculiarity of his position brandished before him from 
 morning to night, he would go moping about the 
 imperial court, an amiable youth, the prey of unknown 
 cares. And what, after all, was the peculiarity of his 
 situation, except extreme insignificance ? A pensioner, 
 in the mean time, on the imperial bounty, ultimately 
 the mere possessor of some Bohemian estates, doomed 
 to inactivity by the misfortune of too great a name, — 
 was there not a mockery in all this solicitude of which 
 he found himself the object? Haunted, it would ap- 
 pear, by some such feeling, and yet carried forward by 
 the restless sense that he must do something or other 
 to merit his name, he seemed to have grasped eagerly 
 at the only chance of activity that was presented to 
 him — military promotion in his grandfather's ser- 
 vice. Hence the assiduity with which he pursued his 
 military studies, and the regularity with which he pre 
 sented himself on horseback at all reviews and parades; 
 the Viennese pointing him out to strangers on such 
 occasions, as the son of !N" apoleon. When, at last, after 
 going through the previous grades, he was permitted 
 by his grandfather to assume the rank and uniform of 
 a lieutenant-colonel, his delight was unbounded. For 
 three days^he poor youth appeared at the head of his 
 regiment, giving the word of command ; on the fourth 
 he was laid aside with loss of voice. 
 
 There was one quarter of the political horizon, how- 
 ever, to which the son of Napoleon would often wist- 
 fuLly look — that France to which he belonged; to 
 which his dying father had bequeathed him with such 
 Bolemn injunctions that they should be true the one to 
 
312 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 the other ; and where, even yet, there were myriads of 
 veteran hearts that beat high at the name of Bonaparte. 
 His Austrian education had indeed isolated him from 
 all means of direct communication with his native 
 country, and had made him, in many respects, an alien 
 from it; but certain chords there were that no force 
 could snap, which still secretly bound him to France. 
 On the other hand, if he was personally forgotten or 
 unknown, in the city that he thus knew only from the 
 map, there were at least principles and men there that 
 were ready to burst out in his behalf. So, at all events, 
 it appeared when the Ee volution of July, 1830, came 
 to be transacted. Had the young Napoleon been in 
 Paris, or near it, when that Revolution occurred, how 
 different might have been the issue ! " Absent as he 
 was, (says a French writer,) if an old general of the 
 Emperor had but pronounced his name to the people, 
 France might have had a Napoleon H. instead of a 
 Louis Philippe." Some timid Bonapartist attempts, it 
 appears, were actually made. In Paris one Bona- 
 partist, who came to a meeting of the leading politi- 
 cians with the name of the Duke <jf Reichstadt on hiB 
 lips, was dexterously locked up in a room till the 
 business was over. Communications were even con- 
 veyed to the duke himself. When the news of the 
 Revolution reached Vienna, the young man could not 
 conceal his agitation ; he even requested, it is said, in 
 the flutter of the moment, to be allowed to go to the 
 assistance of Charles X. But with the news of the 
 accession of Louis Philippe, other thoughts succeeded. 
 One evening, as he was ascending a staircase in the 
 imperial palace, a young woman, enveloped in a 
 
THE SON OF BONAPAETE. 813 
 
 Scotch plaid, rushed forward from a landing-place 
 where ehe seemed to have been waiting, and taking 
 his hand, pressed it eagerly to her lips. His tutor, 
 who was with him, asked her business. "May I not 
 kiss, (she said,) the hand of my sovereign's son?" and 
 immediately disappeared. For some time, the inci- 
 dent could not be explained, but at length no doubt 
 remained that the fair stranger was his cousin, the 
 Countess Camerata, a married daughter of his de- 
 ceased aunt Bacchiochi. On a visit to Vienna, the 
 countess had constituted herself the medium of com- 
 munication between the Bonapartists and her young 
 cousin, to whom she even ventured, some months after 
 the Revolution of July, to address a letter, encourag- 
 ing him, even then, to assume a decided part. From 
 these, and all overtures of the same kind, the poor 
 youth seems to have shrunk with a kind of dutiful 
 horror ; and his excitement regarding the Revolution 
 of 1830 soon subsiding into a calmer mood, he began, 
 we are told, to write down, in the form of an essay, a 
 series of very Austrian reflections on his own life, and 
 the relations which he bore to France. 
 
 From the very first, indeed, it had been seen that 
 the young Napoleon could not live long. Undoubted 
 symptoms of the presence in his constitution of the 
 seeds of that malady that had carried off his father, 
 early presented themselves ; and to these were added 
 other symptoms, too clearly marking him out as the 
 prey of consumption. From being a handsome, deli- 
 cate boy, he had suddenly shot up, before his eight- 
 eenth year, into a tall, feeble, and sickly, though still 
 
 handsome young man, the constant care of the imperial 
 14 
 
314 
 
 THE BONAPARTE FASJ3LY. 
 
 physicians. Toward the end of the year 1831, he 
 became rapidly worse, and was obliged to abstain from 
 his military exercises, and from all active exertion 
 whatever. During the winter of that year, and the 
 spring of 1832, he lived at Schonbrunn, almost wholly 
 confined to his chamber. It had been resolved to 
 remove him to Naples, shonld it be possible to do so, 
 in the autumn of 1832 ; but the disease made such 
 progress, that before that time the fatal result had 
 taken place. For many weeks he had been in great 
 pain, and incapable of any change of position, save 
 that of being wheeled to a window-balcony overlook- 
 ing the gardens of Schonbrunn. Even this was at last 
 beyond his strength ; and, stretched on his bed in 
 great suffering, he waited anxiously for his release. 
 Maria Louisa arrived from Italy only in time to see 
 him die. It was on the 22d of July, 1832, that he 
 breathed his last. Some days after, there was a funeral 
 procession through the streets of Vienna, and the body 
 of Napoleon's son was committed to the imperial vaults. 
 
 While the heir of Napoleon was thus living and 
 dying at Vienna, the other members of the Bonaparte 
 family were dispersed over the world, gazed at every 
 where as the relics of a grandeur that had passed 
 away. 
 
 Joseph, the elder brother of Napoleon, and through 
 life his most intimate friend, was born in Corsica, 
 January 7, 1768. He was, together with Napoleon, 
 educated at Autun, where the tendency of their res- 
 pective tastes and character developed itself by theii 
 preference of, or excellence in, particular studies — 
 Joseph, the man of letters and of peace* doing for his 
 
JOSEPH BONAPAKTffi. 315 
 
 soldier-brother hie Latin and Greek verses ; while the 
 future conqueror studied Caesar and Alexander, and 
 helped his brother in the mathematics. Elected a 
 deputy from Ajaccio to the Corsican Assembly, in 
 1790, Joseph ardently embraced the principles of the 
 French Ee volution, which he cherished to his death. 
 He was, speculatively, always a friend of freedom, and 
 though the crown of two nations had graced his brow, 
 and two others tendered to him — one in this our new 
 world — were set aside by him, he did not, in power 
 forget, so far as he was free to act, his early pledges. 
 His career in France was rapid and brilliant. In 
 1796, he was the French embassador at Rome — sub- 
 sequently a member of the Council of Five Hundred, 
 and in 1800, a counselor of state, in which capacity 
 he concluded a commercial treaty between France and 
 the United States. He was the plenipotentiary who 
 signed the treaty of Luneville, which gave peace to 
 the continent of Europe in 1801 — and the treaty of 
 peace with England at Amiens in 1802. 
 
 When the empire arose, Napoleon being without 
 male issue, Joseph and his brother Louis, and their 
 descendants, were looked to as the successors of the 
 Emperor ; and then it was that Napoleon first required 
 that Joseph, so distinguished in civil and diplomatic 
 life, should put on the harness of the soldier. He 
 insisted that one to whom the succession might fall, 
 should be versed in military, as well as in civil conduct, 
 and accordingly, Joseph became colonel of a regiment 
 in tbe famous camp of Boulogne. 
 
 "While there, the crown of Lombardy was offered to 
 hinij but he refused it because the Emperor made it a 
 
316 
 
 THE BONAPARTE. FAMILY. 
 
 condition of acceptance, that he should renounce his 
 claim to the succession of the empire, and moreover 
 that he should pay an annual tribute to France. 
 
 In 1806, at the head of an army of 40,000 men, he 
 was commissioned to overthrow the English and Rus- 
 sian domination in Naples, and the throne of Queen 
 Caroline. He easily and rapidly effected the conquest, 
 and his own brow bore the crown which he had con- 
 quered. His brief reign of two years was a succession 
 of benefits to a people who had been long degraded 
 by a most oppressive despotism. He founded civil 
 and military schools, some of which yet exist — over- 
 threw feudal privileges — suppressed the convents — 
 opened new roads — caused the paupers of "Naples to 
 work and be paid — drained marshes — and every- 
 where animated with new life and hope a people long 
 sunk in abject servitude. Joseph was here in his ele- 
 ment, for he loved to do good. 
 
 Prom these scenes, so congenial to him, he was 
 called by the Emperor in 1808, to Bayonne, and there 
 the crown of Spain was forced upon him. In this new 
 sphere he strove to adhere to his previous course, and 
 by mildness and persuasion and benefits conferred, to 
 conciliate the affection of Spain. He even besought 
 the Emperor to withdraw all the French troops, trust- 
 ing by frank and loyal conduct toward the Spaniards, 
 to obtain their confidence and support. His request 
 was not acceded to, and the hatred and jealousy of 
 foreigners, which mark the Spanish character, exasper- 
 ated by the clergy and encouraged by the presence of 
 a large English army, rendered all Joseph's efforts for 
 a peaceful success) such aB he had accomplished in 
 
JOSEPH BONAPAKTE. 317 
 
 Naples, impossible. He was obliged to be the soldier, 
 and although worsted in the event, he gave in the vari- 
 ous battle-fields where he was present, decisive indica- 
 tions of courage and conduct. Wearied with a fruitless 
 struggle which promised no opportunity for the exer- 
 cise of the kindly plans he alone desired to carry out 
 in his new kingdom, he wrote to the Emperor on the 
 23d of March, 1812, from Madrid, earnestly asking 
 permission to resign the crown that four years before 
 had been imposed upon him. In that letter he says : 
 "I have done no good and have no hope of doing any. 
 In accepting the crown I had no other object in view 
 than the promotion of the happiness of this great mon- 
 archy. It has not been in my power to accomplish it. 
 I therefore ask to be received by your majesty as a 
 simple subject." Permission was refused, but the for- 
 tune of war drove Joseph from his crown and king- 
 dom, and he was once more in France. The reverses 
 of 1813-14, had overtaken French triumphs ; the 
 capital was menaced ; Napoleon, with the fragment of 
 his victorious armies, was maneuvering between the 
 Marne and the Seine, with the hope of covering Paris — 
 but the overwhelming number of the adversary ren- 
 dered success hopeless. From Kheims, on the 16th of 
 March, 1814, he wrote to Joseph, to whom, on leaving 
 Paris, he confided the defense of the capital, and the 
 care of the Empress and her son — recalling to him 
 and renewing his verbal instruction not to permit 
 either Maria Louisa or the King of Rome to fall into 
 the hands of the enemy. In this letter he says em- 
 phatically, " Quit not my son, and remember, I would 
 rather know him to be in the Seine, than in the hands 
 
318 
 
 THE BONAPARTE FAMTLT. 
 
 of the enemies of France. The fortune of Astyanax, 
 prisoner of the Greeks, has always appeared to me the 
 most melancholy fortune recorded in history." 
 
 After the abdication of Napoleon, Joseph retired to 
 Lausanne. Soon the events of the hundred days found 
 him again in Paris, and again deeply trusted by his 
 brother. "With the final downfall of Napoleon, Joseph's 
 public career terminated. He came to the United 
 States and established himself at Bordentown, on the 
 Delaware, living the life of a gentleman of accom- 
 plished education, refined taste, and liberal hospitality. 
 Here, under the title of Count of Survilliers, he con- 
 tinued to reside for many years. While Napoleon 
 lived, he still hoped — after he died, and while his son 
 still lived, yet did he continue to hope — and when the 
 Revolution of 1830 burst forth in Paris, he addressed 
 from New York an eloquent protest to the Chamber of 
 Deputies, against their assuming to place on the throne, 
 without consulting the nation, any other family than 
 that of Bonaparte. "Napoleon, (said he,) was called 
 to the throne by three millions five hundred thousand 
 votes ; if the nation thinks right to make another 
 choice, it has the right, but it alone. Napoleon II. 
 was proclaimed by the Chambers in 1815, which re- 
 cognized in him a right conferred by the nation. I 
 accept for him all the modifications discussed by that 
 Chamber, which was rudely dissolved by foreign bay- 
 onets." The protest was unheeded. The younger 
 branch of the Bourbons was placed on the throne; and 
 still, as under the older branch, the name and family 
 of Bonaparte were proscribed from the soil of France. 
 
 Abandoning, thenceforth, not his interest for the 
 
JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 319 
 
 honor and welfare of France, but all expectation of 
 being permitted to contribute thereto himself, he passed 
 his days in tranquillity on the banks of the Delaware. 
 It was in this retirement that a deputation of leading 
 men from Mexico sought him out, and tendered to 
 him a crown in the new world, which, without hesita- 
 tion, he put aside. The former King of Naples and 
 of Spain, replied as follows to the deputation which 
 offered him the crown of Mexico : "I have worn two 
 crowns ; I would not take a step to wear a third. 
 Nothing -can gratify me more than to see men who 
 would not recognize my authority when I was at 
 Madrid, now come to seek me in exile, that I may be 
 at their head ; but I do not think that the throne you 
 wish to raise again can make your happiness ; every 
 day that I pass in the hospitable land of the United 
 States, proves more clearly to me the excellence of 
 republican institutions for America. Keep them, then, 
 as a precious gift from heaven ; settle your internal 
 commotions ; follow the example of the United States; 
 and seek among your fellow-citizens for a man more 
 capable than I am of acting the great part of Wash- 
 ington." In 1839, family affairs required his presence 
 in Europe. In 1840, an attack of apoplexy smote his 
 previously vigorous health and fine faculties ; and lan- 
 guishing from the effects of that, and finally permitted, 
 
 "An old man, broken by the storms of state," 
 to visit Florence, in the hope of benefit from its genial 
 climate, he there breathed his last — with his latest 
 breath invoking blessings on that country which had 
 rewarded his services with twenty-nine years of exile. 
 In the United States, Joseph was known only by his 
 
320 
 
 THE BONAPABTE .FAMILY. 
 
 benefactions. Of most amiable and courteous man- 
 ners, with admirable conversational powers, which he 
 was fond of indulging — and without any of the pre- 
 tensions with which his career might have inspired a 
 mind less evenly balanced, — he moved among the 
 people a well-bred gentleman, a kind and generous 
 neighbor, a most agreeable and instructive companion; 
 a man of head and heart unspoiled by the loftiest 
 honors of the world, and unsoured by its reverses. 
 
 Joseph Bonaparte had two daughters: the elder, 
 Zenaide, was married to her cousin, Charles Bona- 
 parte, son of Lucien ; the younger, Charlotte, was 
 married to her cousin, Napoleon Louis, son of Louis 
 Bonaparte and Hortense. Her husband died March 
 17, 1831. 
 
 Lucien, Napoleon's second brother, was born in 
 1775. The effective assistance which he rendered to 
 Napoleon on some of the most important occasions in 
 the earlier period of his career, and the misunder- 
 standing which, at a later period, took place between 
 these two brothers, render Lucien an object of much 
 interest. The political career of Lucien may be said 
 to have commenced in 1797, although he had previ- 
 ously held several important civil and military ap- 
 pointments. Although he had not completed his 
 twenty-third year, he had so distinguished himself as 
 to be nominated a member of the Council of Five Hun- 
 dred by the electors of the Liamone, his native depart- 
 ment. His first appearance in the tribune was in July, 
 1798. At that time the revolutionary party, in its war- 
 fare upon Christianity, was endeavoring to abolish the 
 Sabbath, and a law was proposed to compel tradesmen 
 
LUCIEN BONAPARTE. 321 
 
 to keep open their shops except on every tenth day. 
 Upon this occasion Lucien advocated the cause of 
 Christianity. "Tolerance, (said he,) is the sister of 
 liberty ; persecution the daughter of tyranny. "What 
 right have we to prevent a citizen from celebrating 
 any day which may be indicated by his profession of 
 faith ? At Eome, an Israelite is not forced to work on 
 a Saturday ; and shall we, the representatives of a free 
 people, afford less scope for the unshackled exercise of 
 religion than the sovereign pontiff? " 
 
 When, in September, 1790, the debates took place 
 on the motion of General Jourdan, for declaring the 
 country in danger, Lucien opposed it with much talent 
 and ingenuity. He declared, that the only mode of 
 surmounting the crisis was, by intrusting a great ex- 
 tent of power to the executive authority. He, how- 
 ever, thought it his duty to combat the idea of a 
 dictatorship. " Is there one among us, (he cried,) who 
 would not arm himself with the poniard of Brutus, and 
 chastise the base and ambitious enemy of his coun- 
 try ? " After this, Lucien, on several occasions, distin- 
 guished himself in the Council of Five Hundred ; and 
 although he had hitherto affected much republican 
 zeal, he opposed the reviving influence of the demo- 
 crats. Notwithstanding the interruption of the com- 
 munication between Toulon and Alexandria, there is 
 little doubt that he found means of announcing to his 
 brother in Egypt the unsatisfactory state of parties in 
 Paris, and the dreadful disasters which had taken 
 place on the frontiers. In the mean time, the eight- 
 eenth of " Brumaire" was drawing on, and Lucien 
 succeeded in being elected to the presidency of 
 
 14* 
 
322 THE BONAPABTK FA1DLY. 
 
 the Council of Five Hundred — a circumstance highly 
 favorable to his views. 
 
 On Napoleon's return to France, Lucien presided at 
 all the private meetings preparatory to the Eevolution 
 of Brumaire, (9th November, 1799.) On that memora- 
 ble day, when the legislative body held the extraordi- 
 nary sitting at St. Cloud, he exerted every effort to 
 stay the opposition which manifested itself against his 
 brother; and when Napoleon entered unarmed into 
 the council, he firmly opposed the sentence of outlawry 
 called for against him. " Can you ask me, (he cried,) 
 to put the outlawry of my own brother to the vote?" 
 Finding this appeal to his personal situation and feel- 
 ings to make no impression upon the Assembly, he 
 flung on the desk his hat, scarf, and other insignia of 
 his office. "Let me be rather heard, (he said,) as the 
 advocate of him whom you falsely and rashly accuse." 
 At this moment, a small party of guards, sent by Na- 
 poleon to his assistance, marched into the hall and 
 carried him out. Lucien mounted on horseback, and 
 called out, in a voice naturally deep and sonorous, 
 " General Bonaparte, and you, soldiers ! the president 
 of the Council of Five Hundred announces to you, 
 that factious men, with daggers, have interrupted the 
 deliberations of the Assembly. He authorizes you to 
 employ force against these disturbers. The Assembly 
 of Five Hundred is dissolved." De Bourrienne, who 
 was present, tells us, that perceiving a slight hesitation 
 bn the part of the troops, Lucien, drawing his sword, 
 added, "I swear that I will plunge this into the bosom 
 of my own brother, if he should ever aim a blow at the 
 liberties of France." 
 
I-UCIEN BOUAPAKTE. 323 
 
 ■To Lucien the success of this memorable day may, 
 in no inconsiderable degree, be attributed. The port- 
 folio of the minister of the interior was the reward of 
 his services ; and though he had scarcely attained his 
 twenty-fifth year, his administration acquired a charac- 
 ter of energy and elevation which commanded respect. 
 By great vigilance and close attention to certain mys- 
 teries of office, he contrived to make up for that pro- 
 found knowledge which he had not had time to acquire. 
 His official duties were discharged with firmness and 
 activity ; and without any sacrifice of personal conse- 
 quence, he knew how to assume the most amiable 
 suavity of manners toward individuals of all classes. 
 He was the friend of public instruction, and the patron 
 of science and the arts. While he was minister of the 
 Interior, Lucien lost his wife, Christine Boyer. She is 
 said to have been a woman of a mild disposition, 
 amiable manners, and great goodness of heart. He 
 caused a handsome monument to be erected to her 
 memory, on which is the following simple inscrip- 
 tion: — "A daughter — wife — and mother — without 
 reproach ! " 
 
 Distinguished as were the services which Lucien had 
 performed for the First Consul, the two brothers did 
 not long continue on brotherly terms. Lucien soon 
 found it necessary to resign his position at the capital 
 and accept the appointment of envoy to Spain, where 
 he was extremely successful in promoting the ambi- 
 tious views of Napoleon. Upon his return from this 
 mission, Lucien took a step which was highly offen- 
 sive to Napoleon, by marrying the widow of an ex- 
 change-broker, named Juberthou, who "for greater 
 
324 
 
 THE BONAPABTE FAMLY. 
 
 convenience, (observes De Bonrrienne, significantly,) 
 had been dispatched to the West Indies, where, in the 
 course of a couple of months, the yellow fever snatched, 
 him from the cares of this transitory life." This mar- 
 riage was a severe blow to the system of Napoleon, 
 who contemplated nothing less than royal alliances for 
 all the branches of his family. When assured of the 
 fact by the curate who had performed the ceremony at 
 the Hotel de Brienne, he fell into a violent rage, and 
 from that moment determined never to make Lucien a 
 prince of France, on account of what he termed his 
 unequal match. 
 
 The old misunderstanding was now revived with 
 increased bitterness ; and to such lengths were matters 
 carried, that Lucien formed a sort of league against 
 his brother in his own family. Directions were given, 
 that Napoleon's name should never be mentioned by 
 his household, and the family portraits were taken 
 down and consigned to the lumber-room. The only 
 one that escaped the proscription, was that of his 
 mother. He was shortly after commanded to leave 
 the French territory. 
 
 In April, 1804, only a few weeks previous to the 
 change of the government from consular to imperial, 
 Lucien quitted Paris. The conjuncture was, in one 
 respect, favorable to his reputation ; since it created a 
 general impression, that the cause of his disgrace was 
 his opposition to his brother's ambitious policy — an 
 impression which Lucien, of course, was not very 
 anxious to weaken. He proceeded to Milan ; but, on 
 Napoleon's arriving there, to place on his brow the 
 iron erown of Lombardy, he removed to Pesaro ; and, 
 
LUCIEN BONAPARTE. 325 
 
 in 1805, to Eome, where the pope treated him with 
 marked attention and kindness. 
 
 After the treaty of Tilsit, in June, 1807, an attempt 
 was made by Joseph to reconcile the brothers. An 
 interview was arranged at Mantua, but no accommo- 
 dation resulted therefrom. Lucien was willing to com- 
 ply with certain conditions proposed by the Emperor, 
 among which was the marriage of his daughter to the 
 prince of the Asturias ; but, to his great honor, he re- 
 fused to repudiate his wife. " Separate from her, (said 
 Napoleon,) for a time, and we shall see what can be 
 done." "Not for an hour!" rejoined Lucien. 
 
 "When, in the early part of 1808, Napoleon resolved 
 upon dethroning the Spanish Bourbons, it was his wish 
 to have made Lucien king of Spain ; but Lucien, who 
 had so recently resided in Spain, and knew the Spanish 
 character, and who was at this time living at Eome, 
 happy in his family and in his pursuits, declined, with- 
 out hesitation, the proffered elevation. In the follow- 
 ing April, while at his country-seat, near Frascati, (the 
 same that belonged to Cicero,) and to which Lucien had 
 restored its original name of Tusculum, he received a 
 letter from his brother Joseph, then king of Naples, 
 recommending him to leave the papal territories with- 
 out delay, as they no longer afforded him an asylum. 
 He retired to an estate which he had recently pur- 
 chased at Canino twenty-five leagues from the capital. 
 Here all his attention seemed directed to agricultural 
 and rural pursuits, for which he had always manifested 
 much fondness. Dressed in a coarse woollen coat and 
 thick shoes, he would pass whole days in superintend- 
 ing the laborers. He established foundries and iron 
 
326 THE BONAPABTE FAMILY. 
 
 works, and the whole country assumed new life and 
 vigor. While Lucien was thus laudably occupied, far 
 other objects engrossed the attention of his imperial 
 brother. In May, 1809, he issued his first decree, de- 
 claring the temporal sovereignty of the pope to be at 
 an end, and incorporating Rome with the French em- 
 pire. Lucien, now considering himself no longer safe 
 in the papal dominions, left Canino, on the 1st of 
 August, 1810, intending to proceed to the United 
 States. But the vessel in which he embarked was cap- 
 tured by the British cruisers, and he was sent to Eng- 
 land. There he occupied his time in writing an epic 
 poem on the subject of Charlemagne. His ambition 
 seemed now to be confined to the attainment of a dis- 
 tinguished rank in literature, and to be numbered 
 among the eminent poets of France. 
 
 Restored to personal liberty by the peace of Paris, 
 in 1814, Lucien returned to Italy, where the pope con- 
 ferred on him the dignity of a Roman prince, with the 
 title of Prince of Canino. Thus it would appear that 
 Lucien's fortune had acquired fresh strength by the 
 recent events, gaining in stability what it might have 
 lost in grandeur ; while that of Napoleon, lately so 
 gigantic, was now limited to the possession of a little 
 island, scarcely acknowledged as a part of that empire 
 which he had shaken to its foundation. This astound- 
 ing reverse sensibly affected Lucien. He tendered his 
 brother his fortune and his services; and while the 
 latter was at Elba, a full reconciliation was effected, 
 through the mediation of their mother and their sister 
 Pauline. 
 
 In 1815, as soon as Lucien had heard of Napoleon's 
 
LUOIBN BONAPARTE, S2T 
 
 escape from Elba, he wrote him a letter of congratula- 
 tion. " Your return, (he said,) fills up the measure of 
 your military glory ; but there is another glory still 
 greater — civil glory. The sentiments and intentions 
 which you have solemnly promulgated promise France 
 that you know how to acquire it." When Napoleon, 
 apparently paralyzed by the unexpected reverses at 
 Waterloo, betrayed symptoms of irresolution, Lucien 
 did all he could to reanimate his drooping spirits. 
 " You give up the game, (he said,) without having lost 
 it. The death of thirty thousand men cannot decide 
 the fate of France." Finding his brother still unde- 
 termined, he remarked to his secretary, that "The 
 smoke of Waterloo had turned his brain." 
 
 The second abdication obliged Lucien to retire to 
 his sister Pauline's chateau at Neuilly, where he pre- 
 pared to leave France. While Napoleon was at St. 
 Helena, Lucien's mind and heart were incessantly di- 
 rected to that spot. He applied to the British govern- 
 ment to be allowed to proceed thither, and to reside 
 there two years, with or without his wife and children; 
 engaging not to occasion any augmentation of expense, 
 and promising to submit to every restriction imposed 
 on his brother, or that might be imposed upon himself, 
 but his application was peremptorily denied. During 
 the remainder of his life, Lucien Bonaparte was heard 
 of merely as a Koman nobleman of taste ; at once a 
 patron of literature and an aspirant for literary honors. 
 His great epic of "Charlemagne," on which he spent 
 many years, was published in two ponderous quartos, 
 but failed to procure him the laurels he coveted. 
 His principal literary attempts, in addition to the 
 
328 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 "Charlemagne," were a poem on Corsican history, 
 called "Cyrneide;" a defense of Napoleon; and a 
 volume of his own memoirs. 
 
 During the last ten or twelve years of his life, he 
 found a new and congenial occupation in the collection 
 of Etruscan remains. The estate of Canino being a 
 portion of the extensive tract of country that the Etrus- 
 cans had once occupied in Italy, it might have been 
 anticipated that it would be found to contain ancient 
 tombs, such as had been already discovered in other 
 parts of the .Roman States, near the known sites of 
 pristine Etruscan cities. It was not, however, till the 
 year 1828, that, in consequence of the accidental ex- 
 posure of one such tomb in a field, systematic excava- 
 tions were commenced on the estate, with a view to 
 exhaust it of its Etruscan antiquities. From that time 
 forward the prince, and in his absence, the princess, 
 zealously prosecuted the work, employing workmen 
 to dig continually in various parts of the estate ; and 
 the result was the accumulation at Canino of a vast 
 number of vases, bronzes, and other relics, forming a 
 museum of Etruscan antiquities, superior, in some 
 respects, to any that existed in Italy. The name of 
 the Prince of Canino became known in all the anti- 
 quarian circles of Europe ; travelers in Italy used to 
 visit his museum ; and at one or two balls in Eome, 
 the princess created quite a sensation by appearing in 
 a magnificent set of ornaments that had been taken 
 from the ancient tombs on her husband's estate. 
 
 Dying at Viterbo, in June, 1840, at the age of sixty- 
 five, the Prince of Canino left a numerous family of 
 children, of various ages. Two daughters, the issue 
 
LCfUIS BONAPAKTE. 329 
 
 of his first marriage, had been married, the one to an 
 Italian, the prince Gabrielli ; the other, first to a Swed- 
 ish count, and afterward, in 1824, to an Englishman, 
 Lord Dudley Stuart. Of his children by the second 
 marriage, there survived four sons and four daughters. 
 One of the daughters, Lsetitia, born in 1804, became 
 the wife of an Irish gentleman, and member of Parlia- 
 ment, Mr. Thomas Wyse. The sons, all of whom are 
 still alive, have distinguished themselves in various 
 ways. The eldest, Charles Lucien, styled until his 
 father's death, Prince de Musignano, and afterward 
 Prince of Canino and Musignano, was born in 1803, 
 and married, in 1822, his cousin Charlotte, one of the 
 daughters whom Joseph Bonaparte had left in Eu- 
 rope. Selecting a path that had not yet been trodden 
 by any member of his versatile family, he devoted 
 himself from the first to natural history; in which 
 science he soon attained eminence. Crossing the 
 Atlantic after his marriage, on a visit to his father-in- 
 law, he took the opportunity of making himself ac- 
 quainted with the ornithology of America ; and was 
 able, after a year or two, to produce as the result of 
 his rifle-practice, many new birds not figured by his 
 predecessor, Wilson. Devoting himself with similar 
 assiduity, after his return, to the zoological illustration 
 of Italy, he gave to the world in 1841, a magnifi- 
 cent work in three folio volumes, containing, under 
 the name of " Iconografia della Fauna Italica," per- 
 haps the most detailed and elaborate account of the 
 animals of the Peninsula, that has yet been attempted. 
 Louis, the third brother of Napoleon, was born 
 September 2, 1778. When, in 1794, Napoleon joined 
 
330 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 the army of Italy, Louis accompanied him, and, al- 
 though but little more than fifteen years of age, evinced 
 the coolness and courage of a veteran. The first time 
 he was led into an engagement, Louis, far from be- 
 traying any astonishment, was anxious to serve as a 
 rampart to his brother. 
 
 While the enemy were keeping up a brisk fire of 
 artillery, Louis placed himself before Napoleon, as he 
 proceeded along the outside of the intrenchments, for 
 the purpose of examining them ; and in this position 
 he continued during the whole of the inspection. On 
 another occasion, being in a battery, against which 
 the enemy kept up a well-directed fire, he remained 
 always standing with his head erect, although the 
 gunners were taking all possible pains to shelter 
 themselves from the enemy. Napoleon asked him the 
 reason ; he answered : " You have told me, that an 
 artillery officer should never be afraid of cannon. 
 They are our arms — I follow your example." Louis 
 was little more than seventeen when he a second time 
 joined the army of Italy, then commanded by his 
 brother ; to whom, though he had only the "rank of 
 lieutenant, he was appointed aid-de-camp. At this 
 early stage of his career, he was an observant and 
 silent character. He felt, he remarks, a vacuity of 
 heart and a sentiment of deep regret, at seeing himself 
 impelled into a career of troublesome ambition. He 
 already sighed for retirement and a peaceful occupa- 
 tion. He was in nearly all the battles in Italy, dis- 
 charging all the duties of his station with scrupulous 
 exactitude ; but he had no ambition for military dis- 
 tinction, At the memorable battle of Areola, which 
 
LOUIS BONAPARTE. 331 
 
 lasted three days, he was frequently exposed, during 
 the hottest period of the attack, to imminent peril. The 
 brave Lannes fell wounded by his side ; and Na- 
 poleon's horse having sunk with him in a morass, 
 Louis succeeded in getting hold of one of his brother's 
 hands ; but not being sufficiently strong, he was drawn 
 along with him, and both must have perished, had not 
 Marmont, with two subalterns, extricated them from 
 their perilous situation. This took place on the first 
 day. On the second, Louis was charged with impor- 
 tant orders from the general-in-chief to General Rob- 
 ert, and being the only person on horseback, he was 
 marked out by the enemy, and exposed for a long 
 time to their fire. On regaining his brother, Napoleon 
 expressed a feeling of surprise and joy at seeing 
 him: "I believed you dead," said he; and his death 
 had been actually announced to him by some of the 
 grenadiers. 
 
 Louis accompanied his brother to Egypt, in 1778, 
 and was from that time usually with the army until 
 the year 1806 — his unhappy marriage with Hortense, 
 in 1802, causing him to remain more constantly with 
 his regiment than was otherwise necessary. In 1806, 
 Holland, exhausted by dissensions and internal strug- 
 gles, threw itself into the arms of France, and asked 
 for a prince from the family of Napoleon, who might 
 preside over its destinies. Embassadors from the 
 Dutch people came to offer the throne of Holland to 
 Louis ; " "We come," said they, " of our own free ac- 
 cord, supported by the suffrages of nine-tenths of our 
 fellow-citizens, to entreat you to join your fate with 
 ours, and save a whole people from the dangers which 
 
332 
 
 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 threaten them." Louis was really unwilling to accept 
 the proffered honor, but founded his objection on the 
 ground that the climate was unfavorable to his health. 
 "Better to die as a king than live as a prince," was 
 the characteristic reply of Napoleon. On the 5th of 
 June, 1806, Louis was proclaimed king of Holland, 
 and set out in hopes of finding, in his solicitude for the 
 public interests and in the labors of administration, 
 exemption from the melancholy, which slowly under- 
 mined his constitution. Faithful, above all, in his 
 immovable attachment to duty, he devoted himself 
 entirely to the well-being of the country, which Provi- 
 dence had committed to his charge; and when cir- 
 cumstances placed him in a situation in which he was 
 obliged to choose between his duties as a king and his 
 affection to his family, he never hesitated to range 
 himself on the side of duty. He gave himself up with 
 enthusiasm to the hope of being useful to two millions 
 of men, and resolved to devote himself to their happi- 
 ness. He remained a week in St. Leu, and during 
 that time endeavored to gain from the deputation a 
 general notion of the state of the country over which 
 he was about to rule. Finding its treasury empty, 
 and that France owed it $1,000,000, lent to the French 
 governors of the colonies in the East Indies, he de- 
 manded of the Emperor the repayment of it, but 
 without success. On reaching his capital his first care 
 was to form a ministry. He inquired into the integ- 
 rity and merit of individuals, and on these he founded 
 his confidence. To the Several addresses presented to 
 him, he replied, " that from the moment he set foot on 
 the soil, he had become a Dutchman."-; He promised 
 
LOUIS BONAPARTE. 333 
 
 to protect justice, as he would protect commerce, by 
 throwing the access to it open, and removing every 
 thing that might impede it. "With me, (he said,) 
 there shall be no different religions — no different par- 
 ties ; merit and service shall form the sole ground of 
 distinction." 
 
 The necessities of his treasury demanding immediate 
 attention, he dispatched an individual to Paris, to in- 
 form his brother that unless he liquidated the debt due 
 to Holland, took the French troops into his own pay, 
 and lessened the naval force, he would instantly abdi- 
 cate ; meantime, without waiting for an answer, he 
 gave directions for such reductions of expenditure as 
 it was in his power to make. 
 
 He soon perceived that the government of Holland 
 must found its .chief support on public opinion. He 
 set about drawing up in silence, the plan of a constitu- 
 tion, of the most simple description, alike suited to the 
 tastes and habits of his subjects ; and he took steps 
 for obtaining a uniform civil and criminal code, which 
 should unite the principles of justice with those of 
 humanity. He also appointed two committees, com- 
 posed of the ablest professors and men of letters, to 
 draw up a uniform system of weights and measures ; 
 and though the good he thus intended was not at- 
 tained during his reign, it has since been carried into 
 complete effect. Besides these, Louis projected sundry 
 ameliorations connected with the health of his subjects 
 and the salubrity of the country. He enlarged the 
 public libraries, encouraged the fine arts, founded a 
 General Institution of Arts and Sciences, and created 
 the order of Union and Merit, selecting for its device 
 
334 
 
 THE BONAPABTE FAMILY. 
 
 the Dutch maxim, "Doe wel en zie niet om" — "Do 
 what you ought, happen what may." 
 
 In January, 1807, a shock like that of an earthquake 
 was felt at the Hague, and a light in the horizon an- 
 nounced a terrible fire in the direction of Leyden. 
 Louis happened to be on his way thither, when he was 
 informed that a vessel laden with gunpowder had 
 blown up in the center of the city. On his arrival, he 
 was horror-struck at the spectacle that presented itself. 
 Eight hundred houses had been leveled with the 
 ground ; and with their fall, numerous families, while 
 enjoying the repast of dinner, were precipitated into 
 eternity — fathers, mothers, children, and domestics, 
 all were hurried to a promiscuous grave. Every win- 
 dow in the place was dashed to atoms, and thus the 
 bread, flour, and other necessaries of life were rendered 
 dangerous and useless, by the showers of powdered 
 glass that fell in all directions. 
 
 Attended by the magistrates, Louis traversed the 
 scene of desolation. He ascended the ruins, mixed 
 with the laborers, visited the wounded, promised a 
 reward to every one who succeeded in rescuing a 
 fellow-creature from beneath the rubbish, and did not 
 quit the spot till daybreak of the following morning. 
 He sent off to the principal towns for succors of all 
 kinds, and ordered his palace in the wood, between 
 Leyden and the Hague, to be thrown open to those 
 respectable families whom the accident had left house- 
 less. On afterward receiving the thanks of the magis- 
 trates, he returned a most benignant answer. "The 
 dead," said he, " I cannot restore to you ; that is above 
 human power ; but all that I can I will do for your 
 
LOUIS BONAPARTE. 335 
 
 city." Louis kept his word. He proposed to the 
 legislative body the measures necessary for its restora- 
 tion ; directed a general subscription to be set on foot, 
 ■which was so productive, that the inhabitants were 
 indemnified for their pecuniary losses; and decreed 
 that Leyden should become the seat of the Royal 
 University. 
 
 Again, 1809, when a sudden inundation spread 
 desolation over several districts, Louis was on the spot, 
 performing the same beneficent offices. He traversed 
 the whole of it during two days and a night, visited 
 every village, consoled and encouraged the inhabit- 
 ants, and promptly rewarded those who most exposed 
 themselves to danger. 
 
 At the close of 1806, the famous Berlin decree was 
 enacted, prohibiting all intercourse with England, and 
 Louis was required to enforce it in Holland. He 
 could not avoid taking some analogous steps, but 
 he would not re-enact the decree. On complaints 
 being made, that a contraband traffic was carrying 
 on, Louis coolly replied, "EmpSchez done la peau de 
 transpirer!" — "You might as well forbid the skin to 
 perspire ! " 
 
 When Napoleon was making arrangements to take 
 possession of Spain, he conceived the design of trans- 
 ferring Louis to the throne of that country. He ac- 
 cordingly addressed a letter to him, in March, 1808, 
 in which he opened his plan, intimating, among other 
 things, that the climate of Holland was unfavorable 
 to his health. "Tell me categorically," he said, "if 
 I make you kiDg of Spain, will you agree to it? 
 answer me — yes or »o." The surprise of Louis> on 
 
336 THE BONAPAKTE FAMILY. 
 
 receiving so impolitic, unjust, and shameful a proposi- 
 tion, was only equaled by his indignation: — "I am 
 not the governor of a province," he said : "for a king 
 there is no promotion but to heaven ; they are all 
 equal ; with what face can I demand an oath of 
 fidelity from another people, if I am unfaithful to that 
 which I have taken to the Dutch ? " His answer was 
 a direct refusal ; and the throne of Spain was given to 
 Joseph. 
 
 As Louis defended Holland against the ever-increas- 
 ing encroachments of his brother, a dispute ensued 
 between them. Louis was ordered to Paris, where it 
 was with the greatest difficulty that he effected a pro- 
 longation of the existence of the Dutch state. July 1, 
 1810, he abdicated in favor of his eldest son, and left 
 Holland, accompanied by two friends, and, under the 
 title of Count of St. Leu, repaired to the baths of 
 Teplitz, where he devoted himself to literature, and 
 wrote several works. He lived a retired life, endeav- 
 oring to re-establish his health. Immediately after 
 his abdication, he separated from Queen Hortense, and 
 they never afterward lived together, though no formal 
 divorce had been sought by either party. The educa- 
 tion of the children was yielded to Hortense. Louis 
 finally settled in Italy, where he engaged in literary 
 pursuits. Among the works he gave to the world was 
 a novel entitled "Marie," in the style and story of 
 which may be discerned the expression of the author's 
 own griefs, and still abiding melancholy ; a collection 
 of poetical and historical documents relating to Hol- 
 land ; an essay on versification ; a number of poems ; 
 and finally, in 1829, a critique on Sir Walter Scott's 
 
JEROME BONAPABTE. 337 
 
 Life of Napoleon. Until his death, which occurred 
 in -1846, at the age of sixty-six, he lived in extreme 
 seclusion. 
 
 Jerome, the youngest of Napoleon's brothers, was 
 born December 15, 1784. At the age of fifteen, he 
 entered the navy. In 1801 he was appointed to the 
 command of a small sloop of war, and employed in 
 the expedition to St. Domingo, commanded by his 
 brother-in-law, General Le Clerc. In 1802 he re- 
 turned to Paris. In the same year he visited Brest, 
 launching into extravagances, contracting debts which 
 he had not the means to pay, and drawing on his 
 brother's secretary, for sums which the First Consul 
 discharged with much reluctance. One of his letters, 
 in particular, excited Napoleon's anger : it was filled 
 with accounts of the entertainments he was giving 
 and receiving, and concluded that he had drawn for 
 several thousand dollars. To this, Bonaparte wrote 
 the following reply: — "I have seen your letter, and 
 am impatient to hear that you are on board your 
 frigate, studying a profession intended to be the means 
 of your glory. Die young, and I shall have some 
 consolation-^ but if you live to sixty, without having 
 served your country and leaving behind you any 
 honorable recollections, you had better not have been 
 born." Jerome never realized the wishes and ex- 
 pectations of his brother. On the receipt of this 
 letter, he set sail for Martinique, and resided, while 
 there* with Madame de la Pagerie, the mother of 
 Josephine. In 1803, on the resumption of hostilities 
 between England and France, he had frequent oppor- 
 tunities of distinguishing himself ; but, after cruising 
 
 15 
 
838 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 for a few months, he thought proper to put into 
 New York, where he passed in dissipation that time 
 which, it was expected he would have employed in 
 facing the enemy. Toward the close of the year, he 
 married Miss Elizabeth Patterson, the daughter of 
 a rich merchant of Baltimore. He remained in 
 America until the spring of 1805, when he embarked 
 for Europe. Landing at Lisbon, he proceeded by land 
 to Paris, directing the ship to proceed to Amsterdam, 
 from which place he intended his wife should follow 
 him, as soon as he had obtained the requisite permis- 
 sion from his imperial brother. On her arrival, how- 
 ever, Madame Jerome Bonaparte, not being permitted 
 to go on shore, thought it advisable to trust herself to 
 the English. She accordingly landed at Dover, took 
 up her residence during the summer at Camberwell, 
 and in the autumn returned to her native country. 
 
 Hitherto, Jerome had displayed no want of affection 
 for his American wife — a lady distinguished alike for 
 her beauty and her talents. On the conclusion of the 
 peace of Tilsit, Napoleon having represented to him 
 that the branches of the imperial family were not en- 
 titled to enter into alliances according to the dictates 
 of their own feelings, but were bound to form such as 
 were most suitable to his policy, Jerome was tempted 
 to sacrifice the connection which his heart had chosen, 
 and become the tool of his brother's overweening am- 
 bition. The better to secure his influence in Germany, 
 Napoleon demanded in marriage for him a daughter 
 of the Elector of Saxony ; but as that princess would 
 not listen to the proposal, another was immediately 
 sought after. On the 12th of August, 1807, Jerome 
 
JEEOME BONAPARTE. 339 
 
 espoused the Princess Frederica Catharina, daughter 
 of the King of "Wurtemberg, and, a few days after, 
 was proclaimed King of "Westphalia. On the 7th of 
 December, a decree was issued, containing, in four 
 pages, the constitution of the new kingdom ; by an 
 article of which, in default of legal descendants of 
 King Jerome, the throne was to devolve on Napoleon 
 or his heirs. It was published on the 15th, the new 
 monarch's birthday, who had then completed his 
 twenty-second year. 
 
 Jerome had no lack of common sense. Where he 
 was not imposed on by intriguers, but was left to pur- 
 sue the dictates of his heart, he generally took the 
 right course ; and had his ministers united a turn 
 for business with integrity and a knowledge of the 
 world, he might have become popular ; but, from the 
 individuals whom he had collected around him, it was 
 soon very evident that his government would not be 
 a wise one. Volatile as a boy just escaped from 
 school, he had a passion for imitating, in public, the 
 pomp and state of his imperial brother; but, shut 
 up within the walls of his palace, he would give loose 
 to all the idle gayeties of childhood, down to the 
 taking part in a game at leapfrog with his courtiers. 
 
 On his arrival at Cassel, he had the mortification to 
 find his treasury empty. Jerome applied to one Isaac 
 Jacobson, ia Jew banker, who obligingly advanced him 
 $400,000 at a reasonable interest. Jerome was not 
 ungrateful. A few days after he had received the 
 moneys, a deputation from the Jews residing at "West- 
 phalia, consisting partly of rabbis and partly of elders, 
 were introduced to him by Jacobson, who was their 
 
340 THE BONAPABTE FAMILY, 
 
 spokesman on the occasion ; and the following was tae 
 royal reply : — "I am satisfied with your speech. The 
 article in the constitution of my kingdom which estab- 
 lishes the equality of all religions is in unison with the 
 feelings of my heart. The law ought to interrupt no 
 one in the exercise of his worship. Each subject is as 
 much at liberty to observe the rules of his faith, as the 
 king is to follow his religion. The duties of the citi- 
 zen are the only objects which the laws of the govern- 
 ment can regulate. I trust I shall never have reason 
 to regret what I am doing in favor of your people." 
 "Westphalia became, indeed, a sort of land of promise 
 for the Tribes of Israel. Individuals with long beards 
 were seen in all the public offices. The minister of 
 state was a Jew ; the counselor of finances (the afore- 
 mentioned Jacobson) was a Jew ; the commissary at 
 war was a Jew ; the superintendent of hospitals was a 
 Jew ; the barrack-master was a Jew. 
 
 Oassel now presented a most singular spectacle. 
 Around the dissolute and extravagant court crowded a 
 host of rapacious foreigners and idle hangers-on, of 
 both sexes and of every age and condition. Unlike 
 his brother Louis, Jerome affected to despise the na- 
 tive manners of his subjects, and would not even give 
 himself the trouble to learn their language. This lux- 
 ury and dissipation of the court had only an influence 
 on the habits of the people ; but the proscription of the 
 national language in public acts mortified their self- 
 love, and inflicted a deep wound on their feelings. 
 As the French were to be imitated in every thing, 
 a revolution in German manners and German morals 
 was sought to be effected by Parisian boys of twenty 
 
■TEEOME BONAPARTE. 341 
 
 and courtiers grown gray in profligacy. Jerome, at 
 one time, was seized with the mania for building. He 
 ordered a part of the town to be pulled down ; and as 
 German activity could not keep pace with his im- 
 patience, he summoned an architect from Paris, who 
 would soon have transformed the royal city into an- 
 other Babylon, if the resources of the treasury had 
 corresponded with the vast conceptions of his genius. 
 The labor of the morning was frequently destroyed 
 in the evening, because, when the job was completed, 
 Jerome fancied it was not done in good taste. He 
 would say, "I will have this done to-night ; I expect 
 to find that finished by the morning ; " and four or five 
 hundred workmen were often seen toiling by torch- 
 light to execute the supreme command. Contractors 
 and architects found their account in the frivolity 
 and caprice of the royal spendthrift. 
 
 In 1812, when his revelings were at their height, he 
 received an unexpected summons from his brother, to 
 attend him in the Russian expedition ; but as his mili- 
 tary movements were unfortunate, he was ordered to 
 return home. To conceal his mortification, he shut 
 himself up with his favorites, and sought to dissipate 
 his chagrin by a train of frivolous amusements. In 
 the following year on the evacuation of Germany by 
 the French, Jerome's own subjects rose up against 
 him, and forced him to abandon his capital. Jerome 
 took refuge in France, accompanied by the amiable 
 princess his wife, whose attachment seemed to increase 
 with her husband's reverses. On the abdication of 
 Napoleon, in April, 1814, they were compelled to 
 quit Paris. Jerome was at Trieste when his brother 
 
342 THE BOKAPAUTE FAMILY. 
 
 returned from Elba. Though closely watched by the 
 Austrian government, he contrived to escape to Paris. 
 He soon after set off for the army with the Emperor. 
 He fought at Waterloo, where he displayed much 
 ability and courage, exclaiming, "We ought to die 
 here! — we can die no where better than here!" It 
 was to him that Napoleon left the task of collecting 
 the wreck of the French army after the defeat. 
 
 After the second abdication, Jerome quitted Paris, 
 and, assuming a disguise, wandered about from place to 
 place, until at length he obtained permission from his 
 father-in-law, the King of Wurtemberg, to join, his wife. 
 In February, 1816, the king conferred on him the title 
 of Count de Montfort, — still not allowing him to appear 
 at court, or enjoy unrestrained liberty. Jerome, how- 
 ever, two years afterward, obtained leave to settle in 
 the Austrian dominions. 
 
 Of all Napoleon's brothers, Jerome was unquestion- 
 ably the least indebted to nature. He has been truly 
 described as a good-natured, silly, unprincipled volup- 
 tuary ; whose only wish was to enjoy the sensual grat- 
 ifications of royalty, without submitting to its toils, 
 but, at the same time, without any natural inclination 
 to exercise its rigors. His subjects were accustomed to 
 call him " Heliogabalus in miniature." Notwithstand- 
 ing the bustle and splendor which he created among 
 them, the Hessians most cordially detested him and 
 his whole crew of corrupters and squanderers. Na- 
 poleon they feared and cursed ; Jerome they despised 
 and laughed at. When, on his flight, he carried ©ff 
 the public treasures, and even the furniture of the pal- 
 ace, they were thunderstruck, "not at the meanness 
 
JEROME BONAPABTE. 343 
 
 of the thing, but at the possibility of King Jerome 
 possessing so much foresight ! " 
 
 There is, however, one evidence in Jerome's favor, 
 of which it would be unjust to deprive him. On the 
 downfall of Napoleon, the King of "Wurtemberg tried 
 hard to prevail on his daughter to separate from her 
 husband. The princess, who clung with true female 
 constancy to her disgraced husband, in reply to her 
 father's solicitations, wrote two affectionate, touching, 
 and truly noble-minded letters, by which, to use Na- 
 poleon's expression, she "honorably inscribed her name 
 in history." She avowed Ler irrevocable resolution to 
 live and die with one to whom she was bound by 
 honor and duty, and whom neither could permit her 
 to leave, especially in his misfortunes. She appealed 
 to her irreproachable conduct while a child, to prove 
 that she was no stranger to the voice of duty, and that 
 her conduct as a wife and a mother might be expected 
 to be equally blameless. She acknowledged that the 
 match was originally one of policy, but affirmed, that 
 her husband now possessed her heart, and that her 
 happiness depended on her continuing with him. 
 "Best of fathers, (concluded this amiable woman,) I 
 throw myself at your feet, and implore you to desist 
 from your purpose ; for, on this point, my resolution 
 and my principles are unalterable. It would be cruel 
 to compel me to continue a contest in which I should 
 be opposed to a father, whom I cherish more than I do 
 my own existence." 
 
 After the death of the Princess Catharina, in 1835, 
 Jerome removed to Florence, where he remained until 
 the Revolution of 1848, when he returned to Paris, 
 
344 THE BONAPAKTE FAftTTT.Y. 
 
 where he still resides. The admirable Catharina of 
 Wurtemberg bore him three children — two sons and 
 a daughter. Jerome Napoleon, the eldest, (born in 
 1814,) was remarkable for his extraordinary resem- 
 blance to the Emperor; but died in 1846, without 
 having distinguished himself in any way. Napoleon, 
 the youngest, (born in 1823,) was elected to sit in the 
 National Assembly of France, after the last Revo- 
 lution, and is known for his ultra-republican views. 
 The daughter, Letitia Matilde, married, in 1841, a 
 wealthy Russian nobleman, Count Demidoff, with 
 Whom she passes her time, partly at Petersburg, and 
 partly at Paris. Jerome had a son by his American 
 wife, born shortly after the separation of his parents. 
 He has continued to reside in this country. 
 
 Marie Annie Eliza, eldest of Napoleon's three sis- 
 ters, was born on the 8th of January, 1777. In May, 
 1797, she was married to Felix Bacciochi, a native of 
 Corsica, of a noble family, but at that time only a 
 captain of infantry. In 1800, her husband being 
 absent with his regiment, Madame Bacciochi went to 
 Paris, where she remained until 1805. That year, the 
 republic of Lucca, and afterward that of Piombino were 
 changed by Napoleon into a principality, and bestowed 
 on Eliza. Upon this occasion her husband was created 
 a prince. It is related of him that when the principal 
 personages of the capital were presented to his new- 
 made highness, being accustomed to republican man- 
 ners, they apologized for acquitting themselves rather 
 awkwardly at court. Bacciochi, however, put them 
 quite at their ease, by good-naturedly answering, "In 
 that case, we must excuse one another ; for I have been 
 
ELIZA BONAPABTE. 345 
 
 just as little in the habit of acting the prince, as you 
 the courtiers." 
 
 In March, 1809, Eliza was further created Grand 
 Duchess and governess-general of Tuscany; and in 
 her administration of Lucca, she displayed a good 
 deal of that energy of character which marked the 
 genius of Napoleon. She conducted the department 
 for foreign affairs herself, corresponded directly with 
 the French minister, whom she often resisted, and 
 sometimes obliged her brother to interfere in the dis- 
 cussions. Jealous of her authority, Eliza allowed her 
 husband to take little or no share in the government. 
 At public ceremonies his place was always after hers ; 
 and at reviews he was merely her aid-de-camp. She 
 was fond of luxury, and gave way to the feminine 
 weakness of encouraging admirers, who, if common 
 fame may be credited, were not suffered to sigh in vain. 
 By a lively writer of the day she has been designated 
 as " the Semiramis of Lucca." She nevertheless proved 
 herself, on numerous occasions, the friend of improve- 
 ment. She constructed new roads, drained marshes, 
 colonized the deserted wastes of Piombino, founded 
 seminaries for education, and, when called upon to re- 
 linquish her throne, had taken measures for the estab- 
 lishment of an institute for the encouragement of arts 
 and sciences. An enlightened traveler states her to 
 have been greatly beloved by her subjects ; and he 
 goes so far as to add, that during her reign the princi- 
 pality of Lucca " had become a paradise." 
 
 In 1815, on the occupation of her states by the 
 troops of the allies, Eliza was desirous of taking up 
 her abode at Bologna ; but she was sent to join her 
 
346 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 sister Caroline, the ex-queen of Naples, in Bohemia. 
 Some time afterward she obtained permission to settle 
 at Trieste, where, on the 9th of August, 1820, she died. 
 We are told that Napoleon, on accidentally reading at 
 St. Helena an account of his sister's death, was thrown 
 into a state of stupor, and continued for some time 
 motionless, like one a prey to the most violent grief. 
 "Eliza, (he said,) has just shown us the way. Death, 
 which seemed to overlook our family, now begins to 
 strike it. I shall be the next to follow her to the grave." 
 
 The peaceable disposition of Bacciochi formed a 
 striking contrast with the active, bustling spirit of his 
 wife. He seems to have been considered a good sort 
 of man, who did not care to apply himself to business, 
 and only sought to indulge in the comforts and advan- 
 tages of his situation. Bacciochi and Eliza were the 
 parents of two children — Napoleonne Eliza, born June 
 3d, 1806, and at an early age married to a Count 
 Carnerata ; and Jerome Charles, born July 3d, 1810. 
 
 Maria Pauline, the second of Napoleon's sisters, was 
 born on the 20th of October, 1780. A sad accompa- 
 niment of vanity and frivolity, she emerged into wo- 
 manhood a very paragon of beauty. At the age of 
 sixteen she had displayed a very reprehensible taste, 
 by becoming warmly attached to Stanislaus Freron, 
 who superintended the operations of the guillotine at 
 Marseilles until the death of Robespierre. Fortu- 
 nately saved from pollution with such a wretch, and 
 her reputation becoming endangered by the crowd 
 of admirers she encouraged around her, her brother 
 hastened her marriage with young Leclerc, an officer 
 of Iminble origin, but of considerable promise, whom 
 
PAULINE BONAPARTE. 347 
 
 lie immediately elevated to the rank of general. Pauline 
 was by no means favorable to this union, insomuch that, 
 when her husband was appointed, in 1801, to head the 
 expedition to St. Domingo, she refused to accompany 
 him, and it required all the authority of Napoleon, who 
 wished to silence the calumnies of his enemies by so 
 signal a proof of his faith in the success of the enter- 
 prise, to compel hei compliance with an imperative 
 duty. She went out to the Antilles accordingly, and 
 by her enlivening entertainments, struggled for a time 
 against the desolations of pestilence ; but after the 
 death of Leclerc, she gladly escaped from so dismal a 
 scene ; and carrying back his embalmed body and her 
 treasures in the same coffin, she hurried with impatient 
 alacrity to enjoy again the pleasures of luxurious Paris. 
 Never did a more gay or fascinating widow flutter in 
 the brilliant circles of that dissipated capital. Her 
 ambition was to outstrip in attractions the graceful 
 Josephine. Her displays were theatrical and indeli- 
 cate, while in envy she exceeded the usual measure 
 of female weakness, although in other respects she was 
 full of generosity and good nature. She often pro- 
 voked the displeasure of Napoleon, but never failed 
 to pacify him by her blandishments, for he knew she 
 was really attached to him, and he willingly suffered 
 himself to be coaxed into the pardon of her follies. 
 Nevertheless, he deemed it prudent she should take 
 again, with all dispatch, another husband, who might 
 at least throw over her the mantle of the conjugal 
 name. Accordingly, in 1803, she was married to the 
 Prince Camille Borghese, an Italian nobleman of large 
 possessions, who united to eligibility in this respect 
 
348 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 the complaisance of a high-bred consort. During the 
 early period of the Revolution, he was known only 
 by his having filled, with many other noble names, 
 the muster-roll of a corps of national guards raised by 
 the patriots of the city of Rome, where he was remem- 
 bered for the more than Roman indolence of his dispo- 
 sition, and the perfect stoicism with which he performed 
 the duties of his military toilet, amid the crash of em- 
 pires and the dissolution of the entire frame of European 
 society. 
 
 Shortly after Pauline's marriage, the prince took her 
 to his estates in Italy. Her journey from Paris to 
 Rome partook of the character of a public progress. 
 She was every where accompanied by a guard of 
 honor, and received homage in every town and village, 
 as sister of the Emperor and wife of a wealthy Italian 
 prince. In a few months after his marriage, Borghese 
 reverted to the frivolous and dissipated habits of his 
 youth. The princess soon had rivals ; the public de- 
 cencies were not always preserved ; in a few years a 
 separation took place, which, notwithstanding various 
 attempts to negotiate a return, continued uninter- 
 rupted till within a few months of the lady's decease. 
 
 Pauline now took up her residence principally at 
 Paris or Neuilly. She is allowed to have been at this 
 time one of the most beautiful women in Europe. 
 Neither jealousy nor envy, so quick to discover faults 
 in whatever claims general admiration, ever presumed 
 to Lint at the slightest blemish in her classical coun- 
 tenance. Artists were unanimous in considering her 
 a perfect Venus de Medicis ; and so little was her en- 
 couragement of the fine arts limited by the ordinary 
 
PAULINE BONAPARTE. 34:9 
 
 ideas of decorum, that Canova was permitted to 
 model from her person a naked Venus, which is es- 
 teemed one of the most exquisite of his works. It is 
 reported of Pauline, that being asked by an English 
 peeress how she could submit to such an exposure of 
 her person, she conceived that the question only related 
 to physical inconveniences, and answered "that there 
 was a fire in the apartment ! " 
 
 Throughout the whole of Napoleon's short reign in 
 the island of Elba, Pauline proved that she had some 
 head and more heart ; and a large share of the execu- 
 tion of the popular conspiracy which ensued was in 
 her hands. The greater portion of her own private 
 jewels were sacrificed to the Emperor on his return to 
 France ; and when every hope was lost, she proposed, 
 with a frame and health debilitated in the extreme, to 
 watch by his death-bed at St. Helena. "With this view 
 she addressed, in July, 1821, only three weeks before 
 the intelligence of her brother's death reached Europe, 
 an earnest appeal to the Earl of Liverpool, then at the 
 head of the British government. "The malady, (said 
 she,) by which the Emperor is attacked, is mortal at 
 St. Helena. In the name of all the members of the 
 family, I claim a change of climate. If so just a re- 
 quest be refused, it will be a sentence of death passed 
 upon him ; and, in this case, I demand permission to 
 depart for St. Helena, to rejoin my brother, and to re- 
 ceive his parting breath. I know that the moments of 
 his life are counted, and I should eternally reproach 
 myself, if I did not employ all the means in my power 
 to soften his last hours, and to prove my devotion to 
 him." The prayer was granted ; but the concession 
 
 oune too lats. 
 
350 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 After the fall of Napoleon, Pauline preserved her 
 position at Rome with great 6clat; though certainly 
 with some diminution, in consequence of her separa- 
 tion from her husband. She was allowed to occupy 
 the splendid building of the Borghese palace, the prince 
 himself residing at Florence. Her residence was dis- 
 tinguished by order, elegance, and comfort. It was the 
 most hospitable house at Rome ; her dinner-parties 
 were frequent and sumptuous; her concerts and soirees 
 weekly. In her lively circle a great number of the 
 cardinals were always to be found ; and it has often 
 been observed, by way of pleasantry, that, since the 
 days of Pope Joan, no lady was ever so attended by 
 cardinals as the beautiful Pauline. Her person was 
 not tall, nor imposing ; but she had about her all that 
 indefinable persuasiveness which captures the affections 
 in silence. Her forehead was classically small;, her 
 eyes of a gentle blue, and generally suffused with a 
 sort of coquettish sleepishness, which, whether pro- 
 duced by pain or pleasure, wooed and won the imagi- 
 nation more effectually than the brightest sparkle from 
 the haughtiest eye. The nose was straight and deli- 
 cate ; the mouth exquisite, particularly when she spoke. 
 On her head the most beautiful hair was generally 
 moulded into the choicest forms. Her voice was of 
 the most fascinating sweetness, and enveloped every 
 thing in its charm. Her conversation is represented 
 as having been perfectly easy, often graceful, but al- 
 ways trifling. There was nothing in it of the daring 
 and decision of her family. Once, however, when the 
 embassador Blacas had caused a French painter, whom 
 eha had employed in the decoration of the Villa 
 
CAROLINE BONAPARTE. 351 
 
 Ps&Iina, to retire from her service, she replied to the 
 notification, that, "A government which feared women 
 could have little to hope from men." She spent the 
 greater part of her latter days in Tuscany, far from 
 Eome and her former circle of associates. She became 
 reconciled to her husband, in whose arms sne expired, 
 at the Borghese palace near Florence, on the 9th of 
 June, 1825. 
 
 Caroline Maria Annonciade, the youngest of Na- 
 poleon's sisters, was born March 26, 1782. In 1800, 
 she was married to Joachim Murat, one of Napoleon's 
 generals. In 1806, Caroline was created Grand Duchess 
 of Berg, and two years afterward she became Queen 
 of Naples. In 1815, when the reverses of the French 
 and the advance of the Austrian army overthrew the 
 government of Murat, and the city of Naples was on 
 the brink of anarchy, plunder and massacre, Caroline 
 adopted measures equally prompt, wise and energetic, 
 for preserving the public tranquillity. She assembled 
 the guards, and, assuming their uniform, addressed 
 them in a speech full of spirit and eloquence. She 
 was on horseback nearly the whole of the day, and 
 remained to the last honr, visiting every post, and 
 assuring herself of the vigilance of all the authorities, 
 until the approach of the Austrians compelled her to 
 capitulate to an English officer, who received her and 
 her children on board his ship ; to which she was ac- 
 tually followed by the infuriated lazzaroni, insulting 
 and shocking her ears by the most licentious songs. 
 
 Nature had endowed Caroline with a resolute temper, 
 a vigorous understanding, lofty ideas, and a flex- 
 ible and delicate mind. Her manners were highly 
 
352 THE BONAPAETE FAMILY. 
 
 graceful and captivating. Talleyrand said of her, that 
 " She had Cromwell's head on the shoulders of a pretty 
 woman." Nothing mortified her more, when only 
 Grand Duchess of Berg, than to be constrained to ad- 
 dress the- wife of her brother Joseph as "Tour ma- 
 jesty ; " and she often complained to the Emperor of 
 what she called his undue partiality to that prince, 
 and his forgetfulness of herself and husband. " Tour 
 complaints surprise me, (said Napoleon, on one occa- 
 sion ;) to hear you talk, any one would imagine that I 
 had deprived you of your succession to the inheritance 
 of the late king your father ! " 
 
 Made a widow, in 1815, by the execution of her 
 husband, Caroline Bonaparte, with her four children, 
 settled, after various changes of residence, at Trieste, 
 where, under the title of Countess of Lipona, she re- 
 sided with her sister Eliza. In 1836, she returned to ' 
 Paris, where, for some time, she enjoyed a pension 
 from Louis Philippe, but finally removed to Florence. 
 She died in May, 1839, at the age of fifty-seven. Of 
 her four children, the oldest, Napoleon Achille Murat, 
 (born in 1801,) came to the United States in 1820. 
 Here he married, resided for a time in New Tork, 
 then practiced as an advocate in Georgia, and after- 
 ward purchased a plantation in Florida. He visited 
 Europe in 1831, and wrote a book " on the moral and 
 political condition " of the people of the United States. 
 He returned to this country, but finally, in 1839, again 
 went to Europe and died in 1847. His younger brother, 
 Napoleon Lucien Charles, (born in 1803,) went through 
 a similar career — coming to the United States when 
 young, marrying an American wife, entering into 
 
LETCTIA BONAPARTE. 353 
 
 practice as a lawyer in New York, and yet, notwith- 
 standing this virtual naturalization, finally forced back 
 to Europe by the ineradicable Napoleonic interest. 
 His two sisters, (the one born in 1802, the other in 
 1805,) were married, the elder to a Count Easponi, the 
 younger to Count Pepoli, a well-known Italian patriot, 
 who was driven as a political exile to London, where 
 he obtained a professorship in a college. 
 
 Letitia Bonaparte, the mother of Napoleon, went to 
 Rome, after the second abdication of her son; she 
 lived to the extreme age of eighty-six, and died Febru- 
 ary 2, 1836. She was a woman of extraordinary vigor 
 of mind, and possessed much pride and loftiness of 
 spirit. Shortly after Napoleon's assumption of the impe- 
 rial purple, happening to meet his mother in the gardens 
 of St. Cloud, he, half-playfully, half-seriously, presented 
 her his hand to kiss. She flung it back indignantly, 
 and tendering her own, exclaimed, in the presence of 
 her suite, " C'est a vous de baiser la main de celle qui 
 vous a donnl la vie" — "It is your duty to kiss the 
 hand of her who gave you life." Napoleon imme- 
 diately stooped over his mother's hand, and affection- 
 ately kissed it. 
 
 From the period of the imprisonment of Napoleon 
 at St. Helena, until his death, her mind seems to have 
 been engrossed by one object — that being, whose 
 pride she had reproved in the days of his brightest 
 glory. Napoleon fully appreciated her love. "For 
 me, (said he,) she would doom herself to live on brown 
 bread." In October, 1818, she addressed an affecting 
 appeal to the allied sovereigns assembled at Aix-la- 
 Chapelle, in his behalf: "Sires, (said she,) I am a 
 
354 THE BONAPABTE FAMILY. 
 
 mother, and my son's life is dearer to me than my 
 own. In the name of Him whose essence is goodness, 
 and of whom your imperial and royal majesties are 
 the image, I entreat you to put a period to his misery, 
 and to restore him to liberty. For this, I implore God, 
 and I implore you, who are his vicegerents on earth. 
 Reasons of state have their limits; and posterity, 
 which gives immortality, adores, above all things, the 
 generosity of conquerors." The death of Madame 
 Letitia, which was preceded by long and severe bodily 
 suffering, took place in February, 1836, fifteen years 
 after the decease of her imperial son at St. Helena, 
 and nearly four after that of his sickly heir at Vi- 
 enna. Of the eighty-six years that she had lived, 
 fifty had been passed in widowhood — a widowhood 
 how eventful ! 
 
 Eugene Beauharnais, the son of Josephine, after the 
 events of 1815, repaired to the court of his father-in- 
 law, the King of Bavaria, where he received the title 
 of Duke of Leuchtenberg. He died in 1824, in the 
 forty-fourth year of his age, leaving two sons and four 
 daughters. Most of these have made what may be 
 called fortunate matches. Of the sons, Augustus 
 espoused, in 1835, the young Queen of Portugal, 
 Donna Maria, daughter of Don Pedro, but he unfor- 
 tunately died shortly after the nuptials ; the youngest, 
 Maximilian, now Duke of Leuchtenberg, obtained, in 
 1839, the hand of the Grand Duchess Maria Nicola- 
 jewna, daughter of Nicholas, Czar of Eussia. The eldest 
 daughter, Josephine, is the present Queen of Sweden, 
 having married Oscar, son of Bernadotte, in 1823. 
 The second is the wife of a German prince ; the third 
 
THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 355 
 
 married Don Pedro, Emperor of Brazil, and thereby 
 became the mother-in-law of her own brother, the hus- 
 band of Donna Maria ; the fourth married a certain 
 Count of Wurtemberg. To complete this medley of 
 European alliances, the daughter of Stephanie, Grand 
 Duchess of Baden, and niece of the Empress Jose- 
 phine, has been recently united to a Scotch nobleman, 
 the Marquis of Douglas, only son of the Duke of 
 Hamilton, ranking one of the highest among the Brit- 
 ish peerage for martial ancestry and vast possessions. 
 
 !No family, plebeian or patrician, has ever become so 
 truly considerable and cosmopolitan, either as regards 
 elevation or diffusion, as the Bonapartes. Napoleon 
 was twice crowned ; Joseph was successively King of 
 Naples and of Spain ; Louis was elevated to the throne 
 of Holland, and afterward declined two other crowns ; 
 Jerome was made King of Westphalia ; one of the sis- 
 ters was a queen, and the others were elevated to high 
 dignities. The immediate descendants of these have 
 formed royal and aristocratic alliances. It cannot be 
 denied that, on the whole, they have merited this dis- 
 tinction, for they have generally remained faithful to 
 the cause of progress, in whose name they first ob- 
 tained power. Their fortunes, for a time partially 
 obscured, are again brightening. Scarcely had the 
 Eevolution of February, 1848, occurred, when, rising 
 from their haunts in all parts of Europe, the various 
 members of the family, with Jerome, the old ex-king 
 of "Westphalia at their head, hurried to the scene of 
 action. France received them with open arms. At 
 the first elections to the National Assembly three 
 of them were* returned as representatives — Pierre 
 
356 THE BONAPAKTE FAMILY. 
 
 Bonaparte, the second son of Lucien, and the brother 
 of the ornithologist, aged thirty-three ; Napoleon Bona- 
 parte, the son of Jerome, aged twenty-six ; and Na- 
 poleon Lucien Charles Murat, the former New York 
 lawyer, aged forty-five. The case of Louis Napoleon, 
 as we have seen, was more peculiar. People naturally 
 hesitated before admitting to the benefits of republican 
 citizenship so exceptional a personage as the imperial- 
 ist adventurer of Strasbourg and Boulogne. Twice he 
 was elected by several departments simultaneously, 
 and twice he found himself compelled to decline the 
 honor ; and it was not till after the supplementary 
 elections of September, 1848, when he was returned at 
 the head of the poll for Paris, with a number of other 
 candidates, that he was able to defy opposition and 
 take his seat. Once restored to France, the outburst 
 of opinion in his favor was instantaneous and univer- 
 sal. From Calais to the Pyrenees, from the Bay of 
 Biscay to the Rhine, he was the hero of the hour. 
 Lamartine, Cavaignac, and everybody else that had 
 done an efficient thing, were forgotten ; and the result 
 of the great election of the 10th of December was, 
 that, as if in posthumous justification of enterprises 
 that the world till then had agreed to laugh at, the 
 former prisoner of Ham was raised, by the suffrages 
 of five millions of people, to the presidency of the 
 French republic. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE "COUP D' ETAT" AND EMPIRE. 
 
 The act of the French nation which placed Louis 
 Napoleon at the head of the Republic, and confided to 
 his hands whatsoever remained of the authority of 
 government, was undoubtedly as clear and emphatical 
 an act of popular sovereignty as had ever been per- 
 formed by a vast nation. It was scarcely less unani- 
 mous than that acclamation of the emancipated citi- 
 zens of the United States which called the successful 
 defender of our fortunes in the field, to be the sage 
 and pacific founder of our federal constitution. Re- 
 garding, as we do, the will of the people to be the 
 highest sanction of authority, and the safest rule of 
 government, we must acknowledge that there has sel- 
 dom been an election more absolute than that in 
 France, December 10, 1848, which elevated Louis Na- 
 poleon to the presidency of that great nation. It set 
 aside every conflicting claim ; it baffled every hostile 
 calculation. The full consequences of the choice then 
 made by the French people are not yet completely 
 developed. 
 
 The first act of Louis Napoleon was to assure the 
 Assembly and the country that he was devoted to 
 republican principles, and that the aim of his adminis- 
 tration would be to develop and establish republican 
 
358 the coup d'etat. 
 
 institutions. " We have," he said, " a great mission to 
 fulfill — it is, to found a republic in the interest of all, 
 and a government, just and firm, which shall be ani- 
 mated by a sincere love of progress, without being 
 either reactionary or Utopian. Let us be men of one 
 country, not party men, and by the help of God we 
 shall be able, at least, to do some good, if we are able 
 to do no great things." The suffrages of the nation, he 
 said, and his personal sentiments, commanded his fu- 
 ture conduct, and imposed upon him duties which he 
 would fufill as a man of honor. He would treat as ene- 
 mies of the country whoever should attempt to subvert 
 the constitution, and between him and the Assem- 
 bly would exist the most perfect harmony of views. He 
 would exert himself to place society on its real basis, 
 and to relieve the sufferings of a people who had borne 
 such generous and intelligent testimony. He would 
 endeavor to restore to the government the moral force 
 of which it stood in need, and to maintain peace and 
 order. He had called around him men distinguished 
 for talent and patriotism, who, notwithstanding the 
 differences of their political origin, would assist him 
 in consolidating the new institutions of the coun- 
 try. He then eulogized the becoming conduct and 
 loyalty of which General Cavaignac had given so 
 many and such signal proofs, and pledged himself 
 strenuously to labor to accomplish the great mission 
 of founding a republic. 
 
 The constitution of the republic, which Louis Na- 
 poleon had sworn to support, had been adopted by the 
 National Assembly in November, 1848, It com- 
 menced by declaring France to be a republic. The 
 
THE PKESIDENT AND THE ASSEMBLY. 359 
 
 legislative power was conferred on ' an Assembly of 
 nine hundred members, to be elected by universal 
 suffrage. All Frenchmen of the age of twenty-one 
 were constituted electors, and were to be eligible to 
 office at the age of twenty-five. The executive power 
 was vested in the president, to be elected for four 
 years, and to be ineligible to re-election until after an 
 interval of four years. A council of state was also 
 constituted, consisting of forty members, to be elected 
 by the Assembly, and were to hold office six years. 
 They were to be consulted in prescribed cases, but 
 were to have no voice respecting the finances, the state 
 of the army, or the ratifications of treaties. The vice 
 president of the republic was to be president of the 
 council. It was provided that the constitution might 
 be revised in case the Assembly, during the last 
 year of its term, should vote any modification to be 
 advisable. 
 
 From the outset, it was assumed by a large body 
 of the Assembly, that Louis Napoleon would prove 
 unfaithful to his oath, and endeavor to establish an 
 imperial dynasty. With this view, an active opposi- 
 tion was organized, which, however well-grounded 
 were their suspicions, or however patriotic their mo- 
 tives, could have no other tendency than to urge the 
 President into the adoption of unauthorized, but deci- 
 sive measures, for the maintenance of his authority. 
 
 Another circumstance rendered an ultimate collision 
 between the President and the Assembly almost in- 
 evitable. The constitution of the repixblic had been 
 adopted with extreme haste. The distinctive rights 
 and duties of the Assembly and of the President had 
 
360 the coup d'etat. 
 
 not been defined with sufficient clearness. In the ex- 
 ercise of its prerogatives, either party was open to 
 the jealousy of the other. The Assembly comprised 
 adherents of the elder and younger branches of the 
 Bourbons, of socialists and ultra republicans. There 
 was always a majority against Louis Napoleon, except 
 when, playing faction against faction, party against 
 party, he gained a momentary ascendancy. He had no 
 power to prorogue or dissolve the Assembly, and thus 
 permit the people by a new election to approve or 
 condemn his policy. Being constrained to select his 
 ministry from the majority of the existing Assembly, 
 every measure he succeeded in carrying was accom- 
 plished through a new combination, and of course 
 occasioned the formation of a new ministry. If an 
 appeal to the people, through the dissolution of one 
 Assembly and the election of another, could have 
 been made, the great disaster which has befallen re- 
 publican institutions in France, would probably have 
 been avoided. 
 
 Every successive month, after the elevation of Louis 
 Napoleon, exhibited an increasing hostility between 
 the President and the Assembly. But throughout 
 these difficulties, Louis Napoleon evinced a political 
 skill and dexterity scarcely inferior to that manifested 
 in the field by the Emperor Napoleon. Although his 
 personal adherents in the Assembly never exceeded 
 one-third of the members of that body, he managed 
 to carry his measures by a division of his oppo- 
 nents. Every conflict with the Assembly considerably 
 strengthened his popularity with the people, for he 
 succeeded in convincing the middle classes that the 
 
LOUIS NAPOLEON AT HAM. 361 
 
 only hope of peace and stability rested on his pos- 
 session of power. In one of his tours through the 
 country, he visited Ham, the scene of his former im- 
 prisonment, and in a speech at a public banquet, made 
 the following remarks : " Now that I am the choice of 
 all France, because the legitimate chief of this great 
 nation, I cannot glory in a captivity which had for its 
 cause an attack against a regular government. When 
 we see what evils follow even the most just revolu- 
 tions, I can scarcely comprehend the audacity of hav- 
 ing wished to take on myself the terrible responsibility 
 of effecting a change. I do not, therefore, complain 
 of having expiated in this place, by an imprisonment 
 of six years, my rashness against the laws of my coun- 
 try ; and it is with happiness that, in the very place 
 of my suffering, I propose to you a toast in honor of — 
 'the men who are determined, in spite of their convic- 
 tions, to respect the institutions of their country.'" 
 
 It must not be forgotten, in an estimate of French 
 affairs, that at the time of the Revolution of 1848, no 
 great party out of Paris, was in favor of a republic. 
 The monarchy was annulled by the excited populace 
 of Paris, and a handful of resolute individuals, deeply 
 penetrated with the conviction that all . kings are mis- 
 chievous, and prompted by a sincere desire to frame a 
 government upon thoroughly democratic principles, 
 seized the occasion when all was confusion, to decree 
 a republic. Once decreed, no party thought it safe to 
 unsettle a framework whose destruction might result 
 in the greatest calamities. The probable rivalry be- 
 tween the Bonaparte, Bourbon and Orleans parties, in 
 
 the event of the restoration of a dynasty, offered seriouB 
 
 16 
 
362 the coup d'etat. 
 
 objections to a resumption of monarchical government. 
 LTence, the republic, once proclaimed, accepted by 
 some foreign powers and rejected by some of its neigh- 
 bors, became inevitable. But the whole career of the 
 first Assembly was a series of intrigues against the 
 President, of squabbles among its members, of assaults 
 upon the liberties of the nation, of violations of its 
 trust, and' of decisions which gave the lie to its origin 
 and its professions. Elected under a republic to per- 
 fect and consolidate republican institutions — com- 
 mencing life by swearing allegiance and fidelity to the 
 republic, it was in great part composed of Bourbons, 
 Orleanists, and Bonapartists desirous of making Louis 
 Napoleon Emperor. These parties made no secret of 
 their actual views or of their ulterior designs. Proba 
 bly not more than two hundred and fifty were genuine 
 republicans, who were faithful to their important trust. 
 The Orleanists openly visited Louis Philippe and in- 
 trigued for the return of the exiled family. The "le- 
 gitimists" — adherents of the elder branch of the Bour- 
 bons — avowedly received their directions from Wiesba- 
 den, where the representatives of that family resided. 
 The Bonapartists openly sighed for the empire, and 
 were encouraged by Louis Napoleon, although he re- 
 mained professedly attached to the republic. A sad- 
 der, more factious, or more disreputable spectacle than 
 that presented by President and Assembly, a free 
 country had seldom seen. The legislative body turned 
 around almost immediately upon the constituents who 
 had elected them. They abolished universal suffrage 
 by a majority of 466 to 223 and disfranchised three 
 millions of electors. They sent an army to crush the 
 
POLICY OF LOUIS NAPOLEON. 363 
 
 republic of Eome, then so gallantly fighting for its 
 existence, by 469 votes to 180. They handed over the 
 education of the youth of the country exclusively to 
 the catholic clergy, by 445 votes to 187. They enacted 
 laws and sanctioned proceedings against the liberty of 
 the press, more severe than Louis Philippe had ever 
 ventured upon. 
 
 While the Assembly were thus conspiring against, 
 and violating and discrediting the constitution to which 
 they owed their existence, and which they had sworn 
 to maintain, the conduct of the President seemed also 
 unpatriotic and dishonest. Almost from the day of 
 his inauguration, it was evident that he was deter- 
 mined on a re-election — by a revision of the constitu- 
 tion, if that could be obtained, if not, in defiance of 
 the constitution. It is almost certain that he aimed, 
 not only at a prolongation, but at an increase of his 
 power. For this he flattered the army ; for this he 
 removed and appointed military and civil officers ; for 
 this he made concessions to the priests ; for this he 
 joined the majority which enacted the law restricting 
 suffrage; and for this he afterward joined the republicans 
 in demanding the repeal of that law. His actions ap- 
 peared to display a patient, plodding, and unscrupulous 
 ambition. But, on the other hand, he always evinced 
 so much sagacity, and often such dignity ; his language 
 and bearing were moulded with such unerring tact to 
 suit the tastes and fancies of the French people ; and . 
 his personal objects, so far as they were seen, were sup- 
 posed to harmonize so much with the apparent inter- 
 ests of the country, that his popularity evidently 
 increased with all classes. His messages and speeches, 
 
364 
 
 ■Whatever may be thought of their sincerity, were al- 
 ways characterized by moderation and an apparent pat- 
 riotism. His speech at a public banquet in Paris, on 
 the first anniversary of his election to the presidency, 
 will serve as an example of the style and tone of his 
 addresses : 
 
 "Gentlemen, — I thank the municipal body for hav- 
 ing invited me to the hotel de ville, and for having 
 to-day distributed bountiful assistance to the indigent. 
 To relieve misfortune was in my eyes the best manner 
 of celebrating the 10th of December. I shall not here 
 recapitulate what we have done during the last year, 
 but the only thing of which I am proud is of having, 
 thanks to the men who have surrounded and who still 
 surround me, maintained legality intact, and tranquil- 
 lity without collision. The year which is about to com- 
 mence will, I hope, be still more fertile in happy re- 
 sults, more particularly if all the great powers remain 
 closely united. By great powers, I mean those elected 
 by the people — the Assembly and the President. 
 Yes, I have faith in their fruitful union ; we shall 
 march forward, instead of remaining motionless ; for 
 what gives irresistible force, even to the most humble 
 mortal, is to have before him a great object to attain, 
 and behind him a great cause to defend. For us, this 
 cause is that of entire civilization. It is the cause of 
 that enlightened and sacred liberty, which every day 
 finds itself more and more threatened by the excesses 
 which profane it. It is the cause of the laboring 
 classes, whose welfare is incessantly compromised by 
 those senseless theories which, by rousing the most 
 brutal passions and the most legitimate fears, excite 
 hatred against even the idea of ameliorations. It is 
 the cause of the representative government, which loses 
 its salutary prestige by the acrimony of the language, 
 and the delays which arise in the adoption of the most 
 useful measures. It is the cause of the grandeur and 
 the independence of France ; for, if the ideas which 
 we oppose were to triumph, they would destroy our 
 
FRENCH INTERVENTION IN ROME. 365 
 
 finances, our army, our credit, and our preponderance, 
 while forcing us to declare war against the whole of 
 Europe. Never, therefore, has a cause been more just, 
 more patriotic, and more sacred than ours. As to the 
 object which we have to aCain, it is as noble as the 
 cause. It is not the pitiful copy of a past of any kind 
 that we have to make, but it is to call on all men of 
 heart and intelligence to consolidate something which 
 is more grand than a charter, more durable than a dy- 
 nasty — the eternal principles of religion and morality — 
 at the same time as the new rules of a wholesome policy. 
 The city of Paris, so intelligent, and which does not 
 wish to remember the revolutionary agitations except 
 to appease them, will understand a line of conduct 
 which, in following the narrow path traced out by the 
 constitution, permits the view of a vast horizon of hope 
 and of security. It has been often said, that when 
 honor is spoken of, it finds an echo in France. Let us 
 hope that when reason is spoken of, it will find an 
 equal echo in the minds as in the hearts of men de- 
 voted, before all things, to their country. I propose 
 a toast — ' To the city of Paris and to the municipal 
 body.'" 
 
 For the double purpose of conciliating the pope, and 
 of preventing the increase of Austrian influence in 
 Italy, one of the earliest acts of Louis Napoleon was, 
 to send an army, under the command of General Oudi- 
 not, against the republicans of Eome, who had driven 
 the pope from his dominions and established a liberal 
 government. Pope Pius IX., who commenced his pon- 
 tificate in 1846, was at first inclined to favor many 
 reforms in the papal states ; but in the revolutionary 
 movement, which swept like a hurricane over the 
 thrones of Europe in 1848, he found his people desirous 
 of obtaining more thorough reforms than he was wil- 
 ling to grant, and in the conflict which ensued, the 
 republicans obtained the mastery. A brief notice of 
 
366 
 
 these events cannot be without interest, as they are 
 intimately connected with the development of Louis 
 Napoleon's policy. 
 
 About thirty years before his elevation to the pa- 
 pacy, Pius IX. had been one of the gayest, hand- 
 somest- and most fascinating gentlemen in Italy ; and 
 was on the eve of marriage with a lovely and noble 
 lady, to whom he was tenderly attached, when death 
 suddenly deprived him of his treasure. Her loss occa- 
 sioned him such deep sorrow, that he renounced the 
 hopes and pleasures of the world, and became a priest. 
 He had, until then, borne the epaulettes of the Austrian 
 service, and was distinguished among his companions 
 by his proud and gallant bearing. Now, his martial 
 ardor was exchanged for a martyr's zeal, and he went 
 as a missionary to preach the gospel among the tribes 
 of South America. In vain did he expose himself to 
 the toils and perils incident to this life of self-devo- 
 tion ; he survived them all ; and after an absence of 
 some years, returned to Italy, whither he had been 
 recalled by his superiors. Here his worth and merit 
 soon became known. He was shortly afterward ap- 
 pointed bishop of Imola, then archbishop, next cardi- 
 nal, and now he had been elected pope at the age 
 of fifty-four years! — a circumstance almost unprece- 
 dented in the annals of the sacred college. The popu- 
 larity of the new pontiff was still more apparent on 
 the day of his coronation. On that morning, his name 
 was repeated with the wildest enthusiasm by the vast 
 masses of people who thronged the streets to witness 
 the solemnities of the day. The enthusiasm of the 
 Eomans did not end with these splendid and solemn 
 
pros nc. 367 
 
 ceremonies of the coronation. All men spoke of Pius 
 IX. as being the dispenser of no empty blessing ; but 
 that he came to bear liberty to the nations, redress to 
 the wronged, and consolation to the afflicted. Such, 
 truly, seemed to be his ambition. 
 
 During the first two years of his pontificate, many 
 deeds of goodness and of mercy crowned his life. 
 "Wheresoever misery appeared among the Romans, 
 there also was Pius IX. to be found, lending his best 
 endeavors to relieve or allay it. On one occasion, 
 when a certain district near Rome was deluged by the 
 overflowing of the Tiber, so that the wretched inhabi- 
 tants were flooded in their dwellings, and they them- 
 selves exposed to the complicated miseries of want, 
 and of exposure to the inclemency of the weather, 
 tidings of their misfortune reached the pontiff's ear. 
 Not content with sending some aid to the sufferers, he 
 resolved to inspect their condition himself, and mount- 
 ing his horse, rode off briskly to the scene of distress, 
 followed by the cardinals, who, accustomed only to 
 lounge luxuriously in their coaches, inwardly cursed 
 the active benevolence of their new pope, which would 
 not suffer him to indulge in lazy benevolence. Pius 
 IX., on his accession to the papal chair, found himself 
 placed in circumstances so intricate and perplexing, 
 that it would have required the highest genius to di- 
 rect them to a happy issue. By nature benevolent 
 and firm, with a strong sense of justice, possessing an 
 intelligent and cultivated mind, he longed to give free- 
 dom to his people, and to ameliorate their condition, 
 morally as well as physically. At the same time, his 
 attachment to the church was ardent and sincere ; and 
 
368 
 
 while he was full of indulgence toward his people, he 
 was inflexible in his reform of ecclesiastical abuses, 
 and was the practical opponent of all priestly tyranny. 
 Many anecdotes, corroborative of this assertion, have 
 been afloat in the world. We will relate but one, 
 which has reached us from an authentic source. A 
 rich Italian noble, desiring in his old age to atone for 
 the sins of his youth, was advised by his confessor to 
 bestow the bulk of his property on the church. He 
 had two nephews, who expected to inherit his fortune, 
 but, swayed by priestly counsel, he assigned to each 
 of them only a small annuity, and made a will, dis- 
 posing of his vast wealth in favor of the priest who 
 should chance to say the first mass for his soul on the 
 day of his funeral. This will was safely deposited with 
 the proto-notary of the Holy See. The nobleman soon 
 afterward died, and the proto-notary, on opening his 
 will, immediately communicated its contents to the 
 sovereign pontiff. It was late at night when this news 
 reached him ; but the following morning he rose before 
 the dawn, hastened to the chapel where the funeral 
 rites were to be formed, ordered the doors to be opened, 
 and offered immediately the sacrifice of the mass. 
 Having thus constituted himself the universal legatee, 
 the holy father at once sent for the nephews of the 
 deceased, and yielded into their hands the whole of 
 their uncle's fortune. 
 
 The letter of a distinguished Italian refugee, dated 
 from Rome, in January, 1847, just after an interview 
 with the pope, of whose benignity and good intentions 
 he speaks with enthusiasm, thus describes his first im- 
 pressions of Pius IX. : — "I think the pope is a rare 
 
pius ix. 369 
 
 and an evangelical man. I found as much facility in 
 expressing my opinions to him as if he had been only 
 my equal. We spoke long on the political condition 
 of the country, on its industrial resources, and on the 
 liberty of the press. After much thoughtfulness of 
 aspect and manner, he approached me with an air of 
 confidence. ' Son, (said he,) I cannot totally change 
 the form of government ! ' " Here was the seed of fu- 
 ture dissensions. Pius IX. was sincere in his desire to 
 reform civil as well as ecclesiastical abuses, but he was 
 not prepared to grant the institutions which were de- 
 sired by his people. His first prepossessions were all 
 in favor of freedom and progress. He granted liberty 
 of the press, and became quickly alarmed at its li- 
 cense : he appointed a civic guard, and was surprised 
 to find that its ardor could not be confined within the 
 limits he had assigned to it ; he named a council con- 
 sisting chiefly of laymen, who were to assist him in 
 the administration of civil affairs, and listened with 
 dismay to the cries for a representative assembly, who 
 should have the right of governing the country as well 
 as of advising its chief. 
 
 Whether the pope was unequal to the task now as- 
 signed to him, of guiding the vessel of St. Peter amid 
 the storms of a revolutionary period, or whether the 
 task he had undertaken was one too difficult for the 
 ablest mortal to accomplish, we do not pretend to de- 
 cide. Suffice it to say, that early in the year 1849, 
 symptoms of reaction began to appear. The Komans 
 became more exacting, and their sovereign less willing 
 to. concede the privileges they desired. The appoint- 
 ment of Eossi, an Italian by birth, but a foreigner by 
 16* 
 
,370 
 
 THE COUP D'ETAT. 
 
 prejudice as well as habit, to the post of prime minis- 
 ter, exasperated the people, and diminished the pope's 
 popularity. 
 
 Rossi set about the business of suppressing the 
 democratic movement, and from his eminent talents 
 and resolute character it was believed that he would 
 succeed. His avowed hostility to the people caused 
 him to be regarded with hostility in turn, and finally, 
 on the 15th November, 1849, he was assassinated in 
 the street, as he was proceeding to open the Chambers. 
 It is not known whether this act was the result of a 
 Conspiracy, or of a sudden impulse on the part of the 
 assassin. The plans of the reactionary party were de- 
 ranged by the death of their leader, while the smoul- 
 dering indignation of the Roman people broke out in 
 open revolt. The next day they surrounded the pon- 
 tifical palace in large numbers, demanding of the 
 monarch the promulgation and full adoption of Italian 
 nationality as the basis of his policy, together with the 
 convocation of a constituent assembly and the forma- 
 tion of a federal compact for the whole Italian penin- 
 sula, the declaration of war against Austria, and the 
 appointment of ministers possessing the public confi- 
 dence. To these demands the pope first replied eva- 
 sively, and then, being pressed for an answer, flatly 
 refused. This was followed by a quarrel between one 
 of the sentinels and the people near him, in the course 
 of which the sentinel was disarmed ; the guards then 
 closed the gates of the palace and prepared for a de- 
 cided resistance. Demonstrations were made of a de- 
 sign to attack, whereupon they fired and scattered the 
 assailants, killing a few of them; but the number) 
 
Pius ix. 371 
 
 increased, and returned the shots. At last a truce was 
 proclaimed, and another deputation admitted to the 
 pope, who was informed that if the resistance were 
 protracted, the palace would be stormed and all its 
 occupants except himself put to death. Hereupon, he 
 yielded so far as to appoint the ministry required, and 
 the multitude quietly dispersed ; nor was any violence 
 subsequently offered to either his residence or his 
 friends. 
 
 Pius, however, refused to participate in the action 
 of th« ministry which he had thus appointed. He 
 remained in Rome eight days after these events, and 
 finally, on the night of November 23d, 1848, left the 
 city and went to Gaeta. The King of Naples received 
 him with great satisfaction, and provided for his enter- 
 tainment and that of his suite, in the most lavish 
 manner. It was a great triumph for him, and for the 
 whole band of European tyrants, that the man who 
 had set the revolution on foot should thus come to 
 them for refuge, after having recanted all his former 
 imprudent liberality, and fled from his capital in dis- 
 guise, by night. The popular movement, they rea- 
 soned, had suffered a great loss, when the head of the 
 church became arrayed against it. 
 
 At the time of the pope's flight, the electioneering 
 campaign was being prosecuted in France, where Cav- 
 aignac was making strenuous efforts to defeat Louis 
 Napoleon. He at once comprehended that the position 
 of the pope might be turned into political capital for 
 himself, and lost not a moment in taking the steps ne- 
 cessary in order to appear to catholic voters, the special 
 friend of the pontiff. An eminent diplomatist was 
 
372 the coup d'etat. 
 
 dispatched to solicit his Holiness to sees a refuge in 
 France, and the minister of education and public wor- 
 ship hurried to Marseilles to receive the expected guest 
 with all possible honors. The maneuver was, however, 
 unsuccessful ; Pius IX. preferred the cordialities of the 
 King of Naples to the attractions of the hero of June, 
 and the election resulted in Louis Napoleon becoming 
 President, and in the defeat of Oavaignac. 
 
 The new President of France was not slow to per- 
 ceive that his own aspirations to increased power would 
 be advanced by a papal alliance, and lost no time in 
 urging the French Assembly to send an army to Rome* 
 The ostensible purpose of the proposed expedition was 
 to prevent the increase of Austrian influence in Italy. 
 Under the command of General Oudinot, an army was 
 sent to Rome, which, after a campaign of several 
 months, succeeded in putting down the new republic 
 and in restoring the pope to power. The French army 
 finally entered Rome, which was stoutly defended by 
 the republican government — freedom was crushed — 
 the pope was reinstated. But Pius IX. entered the 
 "eternal city" a changed man. The horiest zeal in 
 behalf of reform which he entertained on his inaugura- 
 tion as pope, was transmuted into an embittered and 
 determined support of absolutism. The blessings 
 which had been showered upon him less than four 
 years previous, by a grateful people, were changed to 
 execrations. He entered his palace stealthily and at 
 night, fearing assassination from the very men who 
 so recently would have confronted death in his defense. 
 
 May 31, 1850, the French Assembly, with a lack of 
 prndonce quite incomprehensible, adopted a law which, 
 
PAKTIES IN THE ASSEMBLY. 373 
 
 while it weakened their own popularity with the peo- 
 ple, greatly increased the strength of the President. 
 In a revision of the electoral law, so many restrictions 
 were thrown around the right of suffrage that no less 
 than three millions of voters were disfranchised. The 
 constitutionality of this measure was doubtful, while 
 it was manifestly impolitic. 
 
 The question of a revision of the constitution was 
 brought before the Assembly early in 1851, in accord- 
 ance with a provision of the constitution. It was the 
 occasion of some very exciting and stormy debates. 
 The plans and wishes of parties were then fully de- 
 veloped. The Bonapartists desired an alteration in 
 only a single point : that which rendered the President 
 ineligible to a second term at the conclusion of the 
 first. The monarchists favored a revision, for they 
 hoped to effect an entire abolition of the republican 
 constitution, and the establishment of a monarchy — 
 one party being eager for the restoration of the elder 
 branch of the Bourbons, the other for the elevation of 
 the heir of Louis Philippe. The republicans, who con- 
 stituted a minority in the Assembly, united in oppos- 
 ing a revision. Defective as they felt the constitution 
 to be, they feared that republican institutions would be 
 endangered by any alteration at that time. The de- 
 bates in the Assembly on the subject increased in bit- 
 terness and acrimony from day to day, sometimes 
 hardly stopping short of personal violence. In July, 
 1851, a vote was taken on the question of a revision. 
 The whole number of votes cast was 724 ; of these 446 
 were in favor of revision, and 278 against it. Three- 
 fourths of the votes east was the number constitutionally 
 
374r THE COUP D'ETAT. 
 
 required to carry the proposition ; so that it failed by 
 nearly a hundred votes. By a rule of the Assembly 
 the subject could not again be introduced until after 
 the; expiration of three months. 
 
 Early in November, Louis Napoleon, (who had fa- 
 vored a revision of the constitution in the expectation 
 that his ineligibility to a re-election would be removed,) 
 sent his annual message to the Assembly. It opened 
 by proclaiming the continued preservation of peace, 
 but expressed the apprehension that this tranquillity 
 was in much danger. A vast conspiracy, the Presi- 
 dent said, had been organizing throughout Europe, foj 
 the overthrow of existing governments. The approach 
 ing election in Francej he suggested as the period fixed 
 upon for the outbreak of the revolutionary movement. 
 He expressed his reliance upon the patriotism of the 
 Assembly to save France from these perils. The best 
 means of doing this, he urged, was to satisfy the legiti- 
 mate wants of the French people, and to put down, on 
 their first appearance, all attacks on religion, morality, 
 or society. " Well, then, (proceeds the President,) I 
 have asked myself whether, in presence of the madness 
 oS passions,, the confusion of doctrines, the division of 
 parties — when every thing is leaguing together to de- 
 prive justice, morality, and authority of their last 
 prestige — whether, I say, we ought to allow the only 
 principle to be shaken which, in the midst of the gen- 
 eral chaos, Providence has left upstanding as our ral- 
 lying point? When universal suffrage has again 
 upraised the social edifice, when it has substituted a 
 right for a revolutionary act, ought its base to be any 
 longer narrowed '( When new powers shall come to 
 
LOOTS NAPOLEON'S MESSAGE. S7S 
 
 preside over the destinies of the country, is it not to 
 compromise their stability in advance to leave a pre- 
 text for discussing their origin or doubting their legiti- 
 macy? ]STo doubt on this subject can be entertained ; 
 and without for a moment departing from the policy 
 of order whieh I have always pursued, I have seen 
 myself, to my deep regret, obliged to separate myself 
 from a ministry which possessed my full confidence 
 and esteem, to choose another, composed also of hon- 
 orable men, known for their conservative opinions, but 
 who are willing to admit the necessity of re-establish- 
 ing universal suffrage on the largest possible base. In 
 consequence, there will be presented to you a bill to 
 restore that principle in all its plenitude, in preserving 
 such parts of the law of May 31 as free universal suf- 
 frage from its impure elements, and render its applica- 
 tion more just and more regular." The law of May 
 31, he said, disfranchised three millions of electors, 
 most of whom were peaceable inhabitants of the coun- 
 try. It gave an impetus to the revolutionary spirit by 
 denying to the people their just rights. He concluded 
 by saying, that, "To restore universal suffrage is to 
 deprive civil war of its flag, and the opposition of their 
 last argument ; it is to afford to France an opportunity 
 of giving herself institutions which will insure her re- 
 pose ; it will be to bestow on the powers to come that 
 moral repose which exists only when resting on a con- 
 secrated principle and an incontestable authority." 
 
 Immediately after the reading of tne message, one 
 of the ministry proposed the repeal of the law re- 
 stricting the right of suffrage, and the re-establishment 
 of the electoral law of March 15, 1849, by which all 
 
376 THE coup p'etat. 
 
 citizens twenty-one years old, and having resided six 
 months in the commune, (or electoral district,) were de- 
 clared electors. The minister, on presenting this law, 
 demanded its immediate consideration. A warm de- 
 bate followed, and the demand was rejected by a large 
 majority. <The bill was then referred to a committee, 
 which reported the succeeding week. The report was 
 very explicit against universal suffrage, and closed by 
 advising that the bill be rejected at once, without pas- 
 sing even to the second reading. This was carried by 
 a vote of 355 to 348 — a majority of seven against the 
 government. During the debate, one of the friends of 
 Louis Napoleon asked, "Is it not probable that the 
 disfranchised electors will present themselves at the 
 elections in May, 1852, and declare their determina- 
 tion to vote ? " This was regarded as an invitation to 
 the people to pursue such a course, and created much 
 excitement. 
 
 On the 25th of November, the President made a 
 brief but significant speech, on distributing to the 
 manufacturers the prizes they had won by the articles 
 exhibited at the World's Exhibition. After expressing 
 his satisfaction at the proofs of French genius and skill 
 which had been afforded at the Exhibition, he pro- 
 ceeded to speak of the check upon industry which the 
 continued machinations of evil men in France could 
 not fail to create. On the one hand France was dis- 
 turbed by demagogical ideas, and on the other by 
 monarchical hallucinations. The former disseminate 
 everywhere error and falsehood. "Disquietude goes 
 before them, and deception follows them, while the 
 resources employed in repressing thorn are so much 
 
THE CRISIS. 377 
 
 loss to the most pressing ameliorations and to the relief 
 of misery. The schemes of monarchists impede all 
 progress, all serious labor ; for in place of an advance, 
 the country is forced to have recourse to a struggle. 
 The efforts of both, however, will be in vain." And 
 the President exhorted the manufacturers to continue 
 their labors. " Undertake them without fear, for they 
 will prevent the want of occupation during the winter. 
 Do not dread the future ; "tranquillity will be main- 
 tained, come what may. A government which relies 
 for support on the entire mass of the nation, which has 
 no other motive of action than the public good, and 
 which is animated by that ardent faith which is a sure 
 guide even through a space in which there is no path 
 traced : that government, I say, will know how to fulfill 
 its mission, for it has in it that right which comes from 
 the people, and that force which comes from God." 
 This speech created a profound sensation, and elicited 
 general discussion. The " Constitutionnel," the organ 
 of Louis Napoleon, added to the excitement by an ar- 
 ticle proclaiming the existence of a monarchical con- 
 spiracy, and menacing that section of the Assembly 
 with instant seizure and imprisonment upon the first 
 movement toward the accomplishment of their plans. 
 The crisis was fast approaching. A law was pro- 
 posed authorizing the impeachment of the President in 
 case he should seek a re-election in violation of the 
 provisions of the constitution. In addition to this 
 measure, it was rumored through Paris, that a decree 
 of accusation would be brought against Louis Na- 
 poleon, charging him with treason, and ordering his 
 arrest. This brought on the final struggle between the 
 
378 
 
 President and the Assembly. He had already mado 
 preparations for a coup d'etat.* This he had done 
 with the utmost secrecy, no one being in his confi- 
 dence, until the hour of putting his plans into execu- 
 tion had arrived. In the mean time, he appeared 
 perfectly unconcerned, and seemed more deeply en- 
 gaged in the gayeties of social life than in political 
 intrigues. On the night of Monday, December 1st, ho 
 entertained a large party at his palace, and was 
 unusually attentive to his guests until a late hour. 
 
 On the morning of the 2d of December, 1851, the 
 inhabitants of Paris awoke to find the city occupied 
 by troops, and a decree by the President, posted on 
 every wall, announcing the dissolution of the National 
 Assembly, the restoration of universal suffrage, and 
 the establishment of martial law throughout Paris. 
 There were also proclamations addressed to the people 
 and to the army. The first of these was as follows : 
 
 "APPEAL TO THE PEOPLE. 
 " FKENCHMEBr; — The present situation cannot last 
 much longer. Each day the condition of the country 
 becomes worse. The Assembly, which ough*t to be the 
 firmest supporter of order, has become a theater of 
 plots. The patriotism of 300 of its members could not 
 arrest its fatal tendencies. In place of making laws 
 for the general interest of the people, it was forging 
 arms for civil war. It attacked the power I hold di- 
 rectly from the people ; it encouraged every evil pas- 
 sion; it endangered the repose of France. I have 
 dissolved it, and I make the whole people judge be- 
 tween me and it. The constitution, as you know, had 
 been made with the object of weakening beforehand 
 
 • A sudden and decisive measure in politics, sometimes, as in the 
 present instance, of an illegal and revolutionary character, and justified 
 on the ground of extreme necessity. 
 
APPEAL TO THE PEOPLE. 373 
 
 the powers you intrusted to me. Six millions of votes 
 were a striking protest against it, and yet I have faith- 
 fully observed it. Provocations, calumnies, outrages, 
 found me passive. But now that the fundamental part 
 is no longer respected by those who incessantly invoke 
 it, and the men who have already destroyed two mon- 
 archies wish to tie up my hands in order to overthrow 
 the republic, my duty is to baffle their perfidious pro- 
 jects, to maintain the republic and to save the country 
 by appealing to the solemn judgments of the only 
 sovereign I recognize in France — the people. 
 
 "I, then, make a loyal appeal to the entire nation ; 
 and I say to you, if you wish to continue this state of 
 disquietude and maladministration that degrades you 
 and endangers the future — choose another person in 
 my place, for I no longer wish for a place which is 
 powerless for good, but which makes me responsible 
 for acts that I cannot hinder, and chains me to the helm 
 when I see the vessel rushing. into the abyss! If, on 
 the contrary, you have still confidence in me, give me 
 the means of accomplishing the grand mission I hold 
 from you. That mission consists in closing the era of 
 revolution, in satisfying the legitimate wants of the 
 people, and in protecting them against subversive pas- 
 sions. It consists, especially, in creating institutions 
 which survive men, and which are the foundation on 
 which something durable is based." 
 
 "Persuaded," said the President, in another procla- 
 mation, " that the instability of the government and the 
 preponderance of a single Assembly, are permanent 
 causes of trouble and disorder, I submit to your suf- 
 frages the following fundamental basis of a constitu- 
 tion which assemblies will develop afterward : — 1. A 
 responsible head, named for ten years. 2. Ministers 
 dependent on the executive power alone. 3. A council 
 of state, formed of the most eminent men, prepar- 
 ing the laws and supporting the drscussion of them 
 before the legislative body. 4. A legislative body 
 
380 
 
 discussing and voting laws, named by universal sufl tge. 
 5. A second Assembly, formed of all the illustrious of 
 the country, a preponderating power, guardian of the 
 fundamental compact and of public liberties. The 
 system created by the First Consul at the commence- 
 ment of the century has already given to France repose 
 and prosperity ; and it would again guarantee tbfim to 
 it. Such is my profound conviction. If you slwre in 
 it, declare it by your suffrages. If, on the ccvirary, 
 you prefer a government with strength, monarch ial or 
 republican,, borrowed from I know not what ptarit, or 
 from some chimerical future, reply negatively. Thus, 
 then, for the first time since 1804, you will vote with 
 a knowledge of what you are doing, in knowing well 
 for whom and for what. If I do not obtain the ma- 
 jority of your suffrages, I will then call for the meeting 
 of a new Assembly, and I will give up the charge 
 which I have received from you. But if you believe 
 that the cause of which my name is the symbol — that 
 is to say, France regenerated by the Revolution of '89, 
 and organized by the Emperor — is still your own, pro- 
 claim it by consecrating the powers which I ask from 
 you. Then France and Europe will be preserved from 
 anarchy, obstacles will be removed, rivalries will have . 
 disappeared, for all will respect, in the decision of the 
 people, the decree of Providence. — Given at the palace 
 of the Elysees, this second day of December, 1851." 
 
 The events of the preceding night gradually became 
 known to the astonished citizens of Paris. At an 
 early hour in the morning, many of the leading mem- 
 bers of the Assembly had been arrested and sent to 
 prison. The President's proclamations, which had 
 
THE coup d'etat. 381 
 
 been privately printed, were posted on the walls. 
 About 130,000 troops — those on whom Louis Napo- 
 leon could implicitly rely — had been silently con- 
 centrated near Paris, and now occupied positions 
 which commanded almost the entire city. So secretly 
 had the measures of the usurper been concerted and 
 carried into execution, that his purposes were scarcely 
 suspected — and every thing had been so admirably 
 arranged, every contingency had been provided for 
 with such consummate ability, that none of the plans 
 of Louis Napoleon failed. So quietly were all things 
 accomplished, that the people of Paris were utterly 
 ignorant of what was going on. They awoke to find 
 the chief members of the National Assembly in prison, 
 and Louis Napoleon absolute dictator of France. Not 
 a man was left of sufficient ability and popularity to 
 rally the people against this sudden and extraordinary 
 usurpation. 
 
 The official account of the arrest of some of the 
 principal persons whose influence was feared by Louis 
 Napoleon, is highly interesting, as it brings out some 
 of their most striking points of character. The details 
 generally are supposed to be quite accurate. The per- 
 son whose arrest was deemed most important of all 
 to the President, was General Changarnier, who pos- 
 sessed, in an eminent degree, the confidence and 
 affection of the army. The affair was intrusted to 
 a commissary of police in whom Louis Napoleon had 
 implicit confidence. This officer and his followers 
 forcibly entered the house where the general resided, 
 and repaired to his bed-room. As the door was burst 
 open, the general was seen standing with a loaded 
 
382 the coup d'etat. 
 
 pistol in each hand ; the commissary seized hold of his 
 arms, and struck down his weapons, saying, "What 
 are you about, general? Tour life is in no danger; 
 wherefore defend it?" The general remained calm, 
 surrendered his pistols, and said, "I am at your 
 orders ; I am going to dress myself." The general 
 was dressed by his servant, and observed to the com- 
 missary, " I know M. de Maupas to be a gentleman ; 
 have the kindness to tell him that I trust to his cour- 
 tesy not to deprive me of my domestic, whose services 
 are indispensable to me." This request was at once 
 acceded to. During the journey, and while in the 
 carriage, General Changarnier discoursed of the events 
 of the day. " The President's re-election," said he, 
 " was certain ; there was no necessity for him to have 
 recourse to a coup d'etat/ he is giving himself much 
 needless trouble." And he subsequently added, " When 
 the President embarks in a foreign war, he will be glad 
 to seek me out, and intrust me with the command of 
 an army." 
 
 The arrest of General Cavaignac was also peaceably 
 effected. The commissary rung at the door of his 
 apartment, and inquired for the general. At first a 
 female voice replied, " He is not within." A moment 
 afterward the commissary rung again ; and a man's 
 voice inquired, " Who's there ? " " Commissary of 
 police ! Open in the name of the law." " I shall not 
 open ! " " Then, general, I shall force the door." The 
 general then opened it himself. The commissary said 
 to him, " General, you are my prisoner ! Resistance 
 is useless ; I have taken all due measures. I have 
 been ordered to make sure of your person by virtue 
 
THE AEEESTS. 383 
 
 of a wan-ant which I will read to yon." "It is need- 
 less!" The general showed signs of exasperation. 
 He smote on a marble table, and used violent ex- 
 pressions. On the commissary trying to calm him, 
 the general eyed him steadily, and said, " What do 
 yoii mean by arresting me? Give me your names." 
 " "We will not conceal them from you, general ; but 
 this is not the time. Tou must dress yourself, and 
 follow us." The general became tranquil, and said, 
 " Very well, sir, I am ready to follow you ; only give 
 me time to dress ; send out your people." He asked 
 permission to write, and leave was given him to do so. 
 When the general was ready, he said to the commis- 
 sary, "1 have only one favor to ask you — it is, to 
 allow me to go to my place of destination with you 
 only." The commissary consented. During the jour- 
 ney, the general was much engaged in thought, and he 
 only spoke once. " Am I the only one arrested ? " 
 " General, I am not called on to reply to that question." 
 "Where are you taking me to!" "To the Mazas 
 prison." 
 
 General Lampriciere was also taken by surprise 
 He first took the police officer for a thief, but being 
 assured of the nature of the visitation, he submitted. 
 The officer said to him — "General, I have received 
 orders from the prefect of police to treat you with all 
 possible -deference. I am, accordingly, desirous to 
 show you every attention in my power ; and if you 
 will but give me your word of honor that you will 
 make no attempt to escape, I shall consider it my duty 
 to place you in a private carriage, with none but my- 
 self to keep watch upon you." " I give you nothing, I 
 
384 
 
 answer for nothing. Deal with me as you will.'.' He 
 was thereupon conducted to a hackney-coach, with an 
 escort of police. As they reached the post of the 
 legion of honor, the general put his head out of the 
 window and attempted to harangue the troops. The 
 commissary did not give him time to utter a singlo 
 word, but intimated to him that he should feel himself 
 called upon to resort to rigorous measures did he repeat 
 his attempt. The general answered, "Act as you 
 please." On his arrival at the Mazas prison, the gen- 
 eral displayed more calmness. He requested the com- 
 missary not to seize his valuable weapons, and to send 
 him some cigars and the history of the French Revolu- 
 tion. The commissary complied with his request. 
 
 General Leflo took matters less coolly. He said to 
 the commissary, "Napoleon wishes to make a coup d' 
 etat! We'll shoot him at Vincennes. As for you, 
 we'll shoot you along with him." The commissary 
 replied that resistance was out of the question ; that 
 a state of siege was the order of the day, and that he 
 knew full well the consequences of such a crisis. 
 
 Colonel Chanas, another of those chosen" as the first 
 victims of the President's power, because they were most 
 feared by him, at first refused admission to the com- 
 missary selected to arrest him, but seeing that his door 
 was about to be beaten down, he exclaimed, "Hold! 
 I'll open." The commissary told him of the warrant 
 against him; The colonel said, "I foresaw it right 
 well ; I expected as much. Escape was easy, but I 
 would not quit my post. I thought that this would 
 have taken place two days earlier, and thinking so I 
 bad loaded my pistol ; but I have withdrawn the 
 
THE ABEESTS. ggg 
 
 charge:" and he pointed to a double-barreled pistol 
 which lay on a piece of furniture. The commissary at 
 once took possession of it. "Had yon come on that 
 day, (said the colonel,) I would have blown your brains 
 out." He entered the carriage without offering the 
 slightest resistance. During the journey he requested 
 to know whither he was being conducted. As the 
 commissary hesitated in his reply, he said, "Are you 
 taking me to be shot?" He was informed that his 
 destination was the Mazas prison. 
 
 Thiers, always so watchful where his own interests 
 are concerned, was found in his bed, fast asleep. The 
 commissary drew aside the curtains of crimson damask, 
 with white muslin lining, woke up Thiers, and in- 
 formed him of his calling and commission. Thiers 
 started up in bed, raised his hand to his eyes, over 
 which a white cotton cap was drawn, and said, " "What 
 is the matter?" "I am about to search your apart- 
 ments ; but compose yourself, no harm will be done to 
 you, your life is in no danger." Tbis last assurance 
 appeared very necessary, inasmuch as Thiers exhibited 
 great consternation. "But what mean you to do? 
 Do you know that I am a representative?" "Yes, but 
 I cannot discuss the point ivith you, I am merely to> 
 obey orders." "But what you are now doing may cost 
 you your head." " Nothing shall hinder me from ac- 
 complishing my duty." " But you are making a coup 
 of etatf" " I cannot answer your arguments, but have 
 the kindness to rise." " Do you know whether I am 
 the only one in this present predicament? — are my 
 colleagues similarly treated?" li I do not know, sir." 
 Thiers rose and slowly dressed himself, rejecting the 
 
 17 
 
386 the coup d'etat. 
 
 assistance of the agents. Suddenly he said to the 
 commissary, "Supposing, sir, that I were to blow your 
 brains out?" "I believe yon incapable of such an act, 
 Monsieur Thiers ; but at all events I have taken every 
 precaution ; I am at no loss for the means to prevent 
 the execution of your threat." "But do you know 
 what law is? Are you aware that you are violating the 
 constitution?" "I have received no instructions to 
 hold an argument with you ; besides, you are by far 
 my superior in intellect. All I have to do is to act in 
 obedience to my orders, as I should have acted in obe- 
 dience to yours when you were minister for the home 
 department." The search made in Thiers' study led to 
 the discovery of no political correspondence. Upon 
 the commissary expressing his surprise at this circum- 
 stance, Thiers replied that he had for some consid- 
 erable period been in the habit of forwarding his 
 political correspondence to England, and that nothing 
 would be found on his premises. The versatile states- 
 man, after a brief detention, was hurried out of the 
 country, instead of being sent to prison with his 
 companions. 
 
 When the members of the National Assembly 
 learned that many of their colleagues had been ar- 
 rested, they hurried to the halls of legislation. These 
 they found surrounded by troops who obstructed their 
 entrance. They then withdrew to another part of the 
 city, where, to the number of three hundred, they' 
 organized the Assembly, and adopted the following 
 decree with almost entire unanimity : 
 
 " In pursuance of article 68 of the constitution, viz : 
 "'The President of the republic, the ministers, the 
 
DECREE OF THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY. 387 
 
 agents, and depositaries of public authority, are re- 
 sponsible, each in what concerns themselves respec- 
 tively^ for all the acts of the government and the 
 administration. Any measure by which the President 
 of the republic dissolves the National Assembly, pro- 
 rogues it, or places obstacles in the exercise of its 
 powers, is a crime of high treason. By this act merely, 
 the President is deprived of all authority, the citizens 
 are bound to withhold their obedience, the executive 
 power passes in full right to the National Assembly. 
 The judges of the high court of justice will meet imme- 
 diately, under pain of forfeiture ; thej- will convoke 
 the juries in the place which they will select, to pro- 
 ceed to the judgment of the President and his' accom- 
 plices ; they will nominate the magistrates charged to 
 fulfill the duties of public ministers ; ' — 
 
 "And seeing that the National Assembly is pre- 
 vented by violence from exercising its powers, it 
 decrees as follows, viz. : 
 
 "Louis Napoleon Bonaparte is deprived of all au- 
 thority as President of the Eepublic. The citizens are 
 enjoined to withhold their obedience. The executive 
 power has passed in full right to the National Assem- 
 bly. The judges of the high court of justice are en- 
 joined to meet immediately under pain of forfeiture, 
 to proceed to the judgment of the President and his 
 accomplices ; consequently, all the officers and func- 
 tionaries of power and of public authority are bound 
 to obey all requisitions made in the name of the Na- 
 tional Assembly, under pain of forfeiture and of high 
 treason. — Done and decreed unanimously in public 
 sitting, this 2d of December, 1851." 
 
 This decree received the signature of three hundred 
 members of the Assembly. Another was adopted, ap- 
 pointing General Oudinot commander of the public 
 forces. These decrees had scarcely been signed by all 
 the members present, and deposited in a place of 
 safety, when a band of soldiers, headed by their offi- 
 cers, sword in hand, appeared at the door, without, 
 
388 THE CQTJP D'ETAT. 
 
 however, daring to enter the apartment. The Assem- 
 bly awaited them in perfect silence. The president 
 alone raised his voice, read the decrees which had just 
 been passed, to the soldiers, and ordered them to retire. 
 They hesitated. The officers, pale and undecided, de- 
 clared they would go for further orders. They retired, 
 contenting themselves with blockading the passages 
 leading to the apartment. The Assembly; not being 
 able to go out, ordered the windows to be opened, and 
 caused the decrees to be read to the people and the 
 troops in the street below, especially that decree which, 
 in pursuance of the 68th article of the constitution, 
 pronounced the deposition and impeachment of Louis 
 Napoleon. Soon, however, the soldiers re-appeared at 
 the door, preceded this time by two police officers. 
 These men, amid the unbroken silence of the Assem- 
 bly, summoned the representatives to disperse. The 
 president ordered the officers to retire. One was agi- 
 tated, and faltered ; the other broke out in invectives. 
 The president said to him, "Sir, we are here the law- 
 ful authority, and sole representatives of law and of 
 right. "We will not disperse. Seize us, and convey ua 
 to prison." " All, all ! " exclaimed the members of the 
 Assembly. After much hesitation, the police officers 
 caused the two presidents to be seized by the collar. 
 The whole body then rose, and arm-in-arm, two-and- 
 two, they followed. the presidents, and all were marched 
 off through the streets, to the various prisons, without 
 knowing whither they were going. 
 
 "When the Assembly was thus destroyed, measures 
 were taken to disarm the power of the press. All the 
 offices of the journals were occupied by the military, 
 
BARRICADES. 339 
 
 and none of the journals, except the government or- 
 gans, were allowed to appear. During the whole of 
 this day the people remained quiet and apparently in- 
 different, and there was so little alarm that even the 
 jewelers' shops remained open as usual. 
 
 On the following morning, Wednesday, the 3d, a 
 decree was promulgated regulating the proposed elec- 
 tion. It convoked the people in their districts, for the 
 14th of the month, to reject or accept the following 
 declaration: — "The French people wills the mainte- 
 nance of the authority of Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, 
 and delegates to him the powers necessary to frame a 
 constitution on the basis proposed in his proclamation 
 of the 2d December." All Frenchmen aged twenty 
 one, and enjoying their civil rights, were called on to 
 vote. The period of voting to be the eight days end- 
 ing on the 21st of December. The minister of war 
 addressed a circular to the generals of the army and 
 the chiefs of corps, ordering that the soldiers were to 
 vote for the election of a president within forty-eight 
 hours from the receipt of the circular. A provisional 
 consultative commission, in lieu of the abolished 
 council of state, was appointed, embracing eighty 
 distinguished members of the late National Assembly. 
 
 The tranquillity which' had hitherto prevailed was 
 first interrupted on this day. A member of the late 
 Assembly, M. Baudin, appeared on horseback in the 
 Rue St. Antoine, followed by several other members, 
 and endeavored to excite the workmen to rise. He 
 succeeded in getting together a small body, who 
 threw up two slight barricades. Troops were instantly 
 marched against them, and, after a brief skirmish, the 
 
390 
 
 barricades were taken, Baudin and another representa- 
 tive being killed on the spot, and several of their fol- 
 lowers wounded. Decrees were immediately put forth 
 by the chief of police and the minister of war, declar- 
 ing that every person taken in the act of erecting or 
 defending a barricade, or bearing arms, should suffer 
 according to the most rigorous laws of war. Groups 
 were to be dispersed by the armed force and without 
 previous notice ; and the circulation of public carriages 
 was prohibited. During "Wednesday night, several 
 representatives passed through the streets, attempting 
 to address the people ; but they were everywhere pre- 
 vented. The body of one of the representatives, shot 
 at the barricade in the Rue St. Antoine, was put on a 
 litter and carried through several streets. As it passed 
 along, causing great excitement in its course, the bear- 
 ers were met by troops, and turned into a by-street. 
 Here there was such resistance that the troops charged, 
 and fired ; and two of the men carrying the corpse 
 were killed. Proclamations signed by various persons, 
 calling on the people to fight and offering to lead them, 
 were posted in a multitude of places, but were speedily 
 observed and removed. 
 
 Thursday, the 4th, opened gloomily. From an early 
 hour of the morning, the people were astir, and tem- 
 porary barricades were thrown up here and there, but 
 abandoned on the appearance of the troops, whom it 
 appeared to be the wish of the populace to harass. 
 The alarm began to spread, and the shops in the neigh- 
 borhood of . the disturbed quarters remained closed. 
 Barricades of a more formidable character were thrown 
 up — amounting in all to more than a hundred — before 
 
TRANQUILLITY RESTORED. 391 
 
 information could be forwarded to the troops. Before 
 twelve o'clock the aspect of affairs became so serious 
 that all the small posts of soldiers were withdrawn, to 
 prevent their being surprised and disarmed by the 
 people, and shortly afterward three or four regiments 
 of cavalry and as many of infantry, with six battalions 
 of artillery, were marched upon the disaffected quar- 
 ters, and fierce and determined conflicts commenced 
 at the barricades. Charges by large bodies of lancers 
 were made every five minutes, to clear the principal 
 streets. No quarter was given by the soldiers, who 
 ehot all that resisted them. 
 
 Before two o'clock there were 30,000 troops in the 
 streets, and the most peremptory orders were issued 
 by the officers, that the windows of the houses should 
 be kept closed, and that no persons should show them- 
 selves in the balconies or they would be fired at. Vol- 
 leys were fired at windows, and many persons were 
 killed. In the middle of the day a formidable attempt 
 was made by the people, moving from different quar- 
 ters, to get possession of the bank and the post-office ; 
 but the large force stationed near these having de- 
 ployed into line, the populace, after firing a few vol- 
 leys, retreated. During the greater part of the day the 
 bank was partially blockaded, as by some accident the 
 communication with the main body of the troops was 
 not kept up, and the one hundred and fifty soldiers 
 stationed there were without provisions, the barricades 
 erected in the neighborhood cutting off their communi- 
 cation and supplies. At four o'clock, however, the 
 barricades were carried, and the garrison relieved. At 
 eight o'clock in the evening, tranquillity had been 
 
392. THE cotjp d'etat. - 
 
 restored, the fighting had ceased on all sides, the 
 populace appeared to have been completely dis- 
 heartened by their want of success : and the harassed 
 troops were permitted to repose after their bloody 
 victory. 
 
 From the departments, meantime, came news of 
 resistance. In the frontier districts of the south-east 
 particularly — the whole valley of the Rhone, in fact 
 the whole region from Joigny to Lyons, including 
 several departments, the rural population rose in great 
 strength against the usurpation. There was very hard 
 fighting in the Nievre, in the Herault, and in the fron- 
 tier districts of the Sardinian and Swiss Alps ; and in 
 many places the contest was distinguished by atroci- 
 ties. In the course of two or three days, however, all 
 resistance was quelled. 
 
 Preparations were made for the election. The army 
 voted first, and of course its vote was nearly unani- 
 mous in favor of Louis Napoleon. The popular elec- 
 tion was to take plaee on Saturday and Sunday, the 
 20th and 21st of December. The simple question sub- 
 mitted was, whether Louis Napoleon should remain at 
 the head of the state ten years, or not. No other can- 
 didate was allowed to be named. The official returns 
 show 7,439,219 votes in his favor, and 640,737 against 
 him. On New Tear's day, the issue of the election was 
 Celebrated with more than royal magnificence. Can- 
 non were fired in the morning — seventy discharges in 
 all, ten for each million of votes recorded in his favor; 
 and at noon the President went to Nfltre Dame, the 
 principal church of Paris, where the event was cele- 
 brated with the most gorgeous and dazzling pomp. 
 
THE INAUGURATION. 393 
 
 The scene was theatrical and imposing. All Paris was 
 covered with troops, and the day was one of universal 
 observance. From E"6tre Dame, Louis Napoleon re- 
 turned to the Tuileries, where the reception of the 
 authorities took place, and a banquet was given at 
 which four hundred persons sat down. The day be- 
 fore, he had received the formal announcement by the 
 consultative commission of the result of the election, 
 M. Baroche, the president of the commission, in an- 
 nouncing it, said that, "France confided in his courage, 
 his elevated good-sense, and his love ; no government 
 ever rested on a basis more extensive, or had an origin 
 more legitimate and worthy of the respect of nations." 
 In reply, Louis Napoleon said that France had com- 
 prehended that he departed from legality only to re- 
 turn to right: that she had absolved him, by justifying 
 an act which had no other object than to save France, 
 and perhaps Europe, from years of trouble and anar- 
 chy : that he felt all the grandeur of his new mission, 
 and did not deceive himself as to its difficulties. He 
 hoped to secure the destinies of France, by founding 
 institutions which respond at the same time to the 
 democratic instincts of the nation, and to the desire 
 to have, henceforth, a strong and respected government. 
 On the 14th of January the new constitution was 
 decreed. In the proclamation accompanying it, the 
 President said that, not having the vanity to substitute 
 a personal theory for the experience of centuries, he 
 sought in the past for examples that might best be fol- 
 lowed; and he said to himself, "Since France has made 
 progress during the last fifty years, in virtue alone of 
 the administrative, military, judicial, religious, and 
 
894 the coup d'etat. 
 
 financial organization of the Consulate and the Em- 
 pire, why should not we also adopt the political insti- 
 tutions of that epoch?" After sketching the condition 
 of the various interests of France, for the purpose of 
 showing that it had been created by the administra- 
 tion of the Emperor, Louis Napoleon declared the 
 principal features of the constitution established by 
 the Emperor had been adopted, as the foundation of 
 the new constitution which he submitted to the people. 
 The constitution consists of seven sections. The gov- 
 ernment is intrusted to Louis Napoleon, actual Presi- 
 dent of the Republic, for ten years : he governs by 
 means of the ministers, the council of state, the sen- 
 ate, and the legislative body. He is responsible to the 
 French people, to whom he has the right always to 
 appeal. He is chief of the state, commands the land 
 and sea forces, declares war, concludes treaties, and 
 makes rules and decrees for the execution of the laws. 
 He alone has the initiative of the laws, and the right 
 to pardon. He has the right to declare the state of 
 siege in one or several departments, referring to the 
 senate with the least possible delay. The ministers 
 depend solely on him, and each is responsible only so 
 far as the aets of the government regard him. All the 
 officers of the government, military and civil, high and 
 low, swear obedience to the constitution and fidelity to 
 the President. Should the President die before the 
 expiration of his office, the senate convokes the na- 
 tion to make a new election — the President having the 
 right, by secret will, to designate the citizen whom he 
 recommends. Until the election of a new President, 
 the president of the senate will govern. The number 
 
THE NEW CONSTITUTION. 395 
 
 of senators is fixed at eighty for the first year, and can- 
 not exceed one hundred and fifty. The senate is com- 
 posed of cardinals, marshals, admirals, and of the 
 citizens whom the President may name. The senators 
 are not removable, and are for life. Their services are 
 gratuitous, but the President may give them $6000 
 annually, if he sees fit. The officers of the senate are 
 to be elected on nomination of the President of the 
 Republic, and are to hold for one year. The senate is 
 to be convoked and prorogued by the President, and 
 its sittings are to be secret. It is the guardian of the 
 fundamental law and of the public liberties : no law 
 can be published without being submitted to it. It 
 regulates the constitution of the colonies, and all that 
 has not been provided for by the constitution, and de- 
 cides upon its interpretation — but its decisions are 
 invalid without the sanction of the President. It 
 maintains or annuls all acts complained of as uncon- 
 stitutional by the government or by petition. It can 
 fix the bases of projects of laws of national interest, 
 in reports to the President; and can also propose 
 modifications of the constitution ; but all modifications 
 of the fundamental bases of the constitution must be 
 submitted to the people. In the legislative body there 
 is to be one representative for every 35,000 electors — 
 elected by universal suffrage. The deputies receive no 
 salary, and hold office for six years. The legislative 
 body discusses and votes the projects of laws and the 
 imposts. Every amendment adopted by the committee 
 charged with the examination of a project of law, shall 
 be sent, without discussion, to the council of state, and 
 if not adopted by that body, it cannot be submitted to 
 
596 the ootjp d'etat. 
 
 legislative deliberation. The sittings are to be public, 
 but may be secret on the demand of five members. 
 Public reports of the proceedings shall be confined to 
 the journals and votes — and shall be prepared under 
 direction of the president of the legislative body. The 
 officers are to be named by the President of the Re- 
 public. Ministers cannot be members of the legisla- 
 ture. No petition can be addressed to the legislative 
 body. The President of the Republic convokes, ad- 
 journs, prorogues, and dissolves the legislative body : 
 in case of dissolution, he shall convoke a new one 
 within six months. The number of councilors of state 
 is from forty to fifty. They are to be named by the 
 President and are removable by him. He presides 
 over their meetings. They are to draw up projects of 
 law and regulations of the public administration, and 
 to resolve difficulties that may arise, under the direc- 
 tion of the President. Members are to be appointed 
 from its number by the President, to maintain, in the 
 name of the government, the discussion of the projects 
 of law before the senate and the legislative corps. 
 The salary of each councilor is $5000. The ministers 
 have ranks, right of sitting, and a deliberative voice in 
 the council of state. A high court of justice judges 
 without appeal all persons sent before it accused of 
 crimes, attempts or plots against the President of the 
 Eepublic, and against the internal and external safety 
 of the state. It cannot be convened except by decree 
 from the President. Its organization is to be regu- 
 lated by the senate. Existing provisions of law not 
 opposed to the present constitution shall remain in 
 force until legally abrogated. Such are the provisioua 
 of the now constitution of France. 
 
LTBEBTY OF THE PRESS STOPPED. 397 
 
 From the first, Louis Napoleon exercised the power 
 which he had seized, in the most arbitrary manner. 
 Arrests of disaffected persons were made in all parts of 
 France, and in the course of a few weeks, several thou- 
 sands of persons were sent into temporary banishment, 
 and twenty-five hundred were directed to be sent to 
 the penal colony of Cayenne, on the coast of South 
 America. These acts of high-handed severity created 
 a deep feeling of disapprobation, to which, however, 
 it was unsafe to give expression, either in print or in 
 conversation. 
 
 Among^the numerous decrees of Louis Napoleon to 
 restrain the liberties of the people and establish his- 
 own authority, was one for the regulation of the press, 
 which destroys every semblance of freedom of the 
 press,, and makes it a mere subservient tool in the 
 hands of the government. It consists of four chapters, 
 and the following are their provisions : (1.) No journal 
 can be published without first obtaining permission of 
 the government; nor can any foreign journal be ad- 
 mitted into France except by the same permission ; 
 and any person bringing into France an unauthorized 
 paper, will be liable to a year's imprisonment and to a 
 fine of $1 000. Every publisher must deposit caution- 
 money, from $3000 to $10,000, before he can issue a 
 paper, under heavy penalties. (2.) Stamp duties are 
 imposed upon journals whether published in France,, 
 or introduced from other countries ; and the authori- 
 ties are enjoined to seize all publications violating these 
 regulations. (3.) Every violation of the article of the 
 constitution which prohibits legislative reports, is pun- 
 ishable by fine of from $200 to $1000. The publication 
 
398 
 
 of false news subjects to a fine, and if it be of a ten- 
 dency to disturb the public peace, imprisonment is 
 added. No account of the proceedings of the senate or 
 council of state, and no report of trials for press of- 
 fenses, can be published ; and in all affairs, civil, cor- 
 rectional, or criminal, the courts may forbid the publi- 
 cation of their proceedings. Every editor is bound to 
 publish official documents, relations, and rectifications 
 •which may be addressed to him by any public au- 
 thority ; if he fail to do so, he may be fined and his 
 journal seized. No one can carry on the bookseller's 
 trade, or issue or sell engravings, medals, or 'prints of 
 any kind, without obtaining permission of the authori- 
 ties, and becoming subject to the same restrictions as 
 are imposed upon journals. (4.) With regard to exist- 
 ing journals, three months are allowed for them to de- 
 posit the caution-money required, and to conform to 
 the other provisions of the new law. 
 
 The promulgation of a decree in regard to the pro- 
 perty of Louis Philippe and his family, created much 
 dissatisfaction, especially among the royalists. It de- 
 clares that the Orleans family, their husbands, wives 
 and descendants, cannot possess any real or personal 
 property in France, and directs the whole of their pre- 
 sent possessions to be sold within one year. The im- 
 mense property possessed by Louis Philippe when he 
 ascended the throne, and given by him to his children 
 at that time, was declared to be confiscated. Of the 
 proceeds of its sale, $2,000,000 is to be allowed to the 
 mutual assistance societies organized among the peo- 
 ple ; $2,000,000 will be devoted to the establishment of 
 institutions for making loans on mortgages; $2,000,000 
 
THE PKESIDENT'S SPEECH. 399 
 
 is to be used as a pension fund for the poorest of the 
 clergy ; and the remainder is to be distributed in pen- 
 sions to military functionaries. In this decree a con- 
 siderable sum was directed to be paid annually to the 
 Duchess of Orleans. That spirited lady addressed to 
 Louis Napoleon an indignant protest against the de- 
 cree. She said — "As I do not acknowledge your 
 right to plunder my family, neither do I acknowledge 
 your right to assign to me a dotation in the name of 
 France. I refuse the dowry." 
 
 The opening of the new senate and legislative body 
 took place on the 20th of March, 1852 In his speech 
 on that occasion, the President briefly rehearses the 
 reasons which made his usurpation necessary, and 
 cited the readiness with which the people submitted to 
 a temporary abridgment of their liberties, as proof of 
 their conviction that they had been abused. He said, 
 with regard to the rumors that he intends to make 
 himself Emperor, that he had had the opportunity to 
 do so on three occasions if he had been so disposed, 
 and he referred to his forbearance then, as evidence of 
 the falsehood of the reports. He declared that he was 
 firmly resolved to maintain the government in its pre- 
 sent form, unless the machinations of the disaffected 
 should compel him to proclaim greater powers. He 
 repeated his assurances of peace, and declared that he 
 would restore popular freedom and rights as rapidly 
 as the security of the country would permit. 
 
 On the 21st of March, Louis Napoleon reviewed the 
 troops, and bestowed upon them the medal instituted 
 by the confiscation of the Orleans estates. In the 
 speech which he made on the occasion, he said, hie 
 
400 
 
 object in instituting the medal was to make some mora 
 adequate compensation for the services of the army 
 tnan they usually received. He urged them to accept 
 it as an encouragement to maintain intact their mili- 
 tary spirit. " Wear it, (he said,) as a proof of my so- 
 licitude for your interest, and my affection for that 
 great military family, of which I am proud to be the 
 head, because you are its glorious children." 
 
 On the evening of April 4th, the highest judicial 
 authorities of the state attended at the Elys6e to take 
 the oaths prescribed by the constitution in presence of 
 Louis Napoleon, who received them surrounded by his 
 ministers. A complimentary speech was made to him 
 on behalf of the judges. In his reply the President 
 used strong expressions concerning the basis of his 
 right to the office he holds. He said : "Since the day 
 on which the doctrine of the sovereignty of the people 
 replaced that of divine right, it may be affirmed with 
 truth, that no government has been as legitimate as 
 mine. In 1804, four millions of votes, in proclaiming 
 the power to be hereditary in my family, designated 
 me as heir to the empire. In 1848, nearly six millions 
 called me to the head of the republic. In 1851 nearly 
 eight millions maintained me there. Consequently, in 
 taking the oath to me, it is not merely to a man that 
 ycu swear to be faithful, but to a principle — to a 
 ca.tse — to the national will itself. " These expressions 
 have been generally considered as indicative of hered- 
 itary imperial pretensions, to be made good at the 
 earliest convenient opportunity. 
 
 With but few exceptions, the prominent citizens of 
 Prance universally acknowledged the authority of 
 
GENEBAL OHANGABNIEE. 401 
 
 Louis Napoleon, and took the oath of fidelity which 
 had been prescribed by him. Among the dissentients 
 was General Changarnier, who addressed a remark- 
 able letter to the minister of the Interior in reply to 
 his demand that he should take the oath of allegiance 
 to Louis JN apoleon. He says that the President had 
 repeatedly endeavored to seduce him to his support — 
 that he had offered not only to make him marshal but 
 to confer upon him another military dignity unknown 
 since the empire, and to attach to it immense pecuni- 
 ary rewards; that when he perceived that personal 
 ambition had no effect upon him, he endeavored to 
 gain him over, by pretending a design to prepare the 
 way for the restoration of the monarchy to which he 
 supposed him to be attached. All these attempts had 
 been without effect. He had never ceased to be ready 
 to defend with energy the legal powers of Louis Na- 
 poleon, and to give every opposition to the illegal 
 prolongation of those powers. The exile he had un- 
 dergone in solitude and silence had not changed his 
 opinion of the duties he owed to France. He would 
 hasten to her defense should she be attacked, but he 
 refused the oath exacted by the perjured man who had 
 failed to corrupt him. In reply to this letter, the edi- 
 tor of the " Constitutionnel," the official organ of the 
 government, brought against General Changarnier spe- 
 cific charges — that in March, 1849, he demanded from 
 Louis Napoleon written authority to throw the constit- 
 uent Assembly out of the window — that he subse- 
 quently urged him in the strongest manner to make a 
 coup d'etat ; and that in November, 1850, he assem- 
 bled a number of political personages, and proposed to 
 
402 
 
 them to arrest Louis Napoleon and send him to 
 prison, to prorogue the Assembly, and to assume the 
 dictatorship. General Lamoriciere, also, in a pub- 
 lished letter, refused to take the oath required ; he 
 declared his readiness to defend France against foreign 
 foes whenever she should be attacked, but he would 
 not take the oath of fidelity to a perjured chief. The 
 venerable astronomer, Arago, also refused to take 
 the oath of allegiance required of all connected in any 
 way with the government. He wrote a firm and dig- 
 nified letter to the minister notifying him of his pur- 
 pose, and calling on him to designate the day when'ii 
 would be necessary for him to quit the bureau of astron- 
 omy, with which he had been so closely connected for 
 half a century. He also informed him that he should 
 address a circular letter to scientific men throughout 
 the world, explaining the necessity which drove him 
 from an establishment with which his name had been 
 so long associated, and to vindicate his motives from 
 suspicion. The minister informed him that, in consid- 
 eration of his eminent services to the cause of science, 
 the government had decided not to exact the oath, and 
 that he could therefore retain his post. These exam- 
 ples of non-concurrence in the new policy of the Presi- 
 dent were followed by inferior magistrates in various 
 parts of France. In several of the departments, mem- 
 bers of the local councils had refused to take the oaths 
 of allegiance. The civil courts of Paris had, also, in 
 one or two instances, asserted their independence by 
 deciding against the government in prosecutions com- 
 menced against the press. On the 23d of April, more- 
 over, the civil tribunal gave judgment on the demand 
 
THE PKESmEMT AND THE ASSEMBLY. 403 
 
 made by the princes of the Orleans family to declare 
 illegal the seizure of the estates of Eeuilly and Mon- 
 ceaux, under the decree of the 22d of January, rela- 
 tive to the property of the late king, Louis Philippe. 
 In answer to this demand, the government called on 
 the tribunal to declare that the decree of 22d January 
 was a legislative act, and the seizure of the prop- 
 erty an administrative act, and that consequently the 
 tribunal had no jurisdiction. 
 
 The session of the legislative body was closed on the 
 28th of June by a message from the President, in which 
 he thanked the members for their cooperation and 
 support, and especially for having "occupied them- 
 selves with the great interests of the country, laying 
 aside all susceptibility, and feeling that the epoch of 
 sterile and impassioned discourses had passed away, 
 and that of business had arrived." He hoped that 
 they would extend throughout the country the senti- 
 ment, of which from their own observation they must 
 be possessed, " that there exists in France a government 
 animated with the faith and the love of good — which 
 reposes on the people, the source of all power — on 
 the army, the source of all force — and on religion, 
 the source of all justice." During the latter part of 
 the session, the budget was discussed with some interest 
 and with some attempts at freedom of debate ; but 
 ministers gave out such threatening intimations, that 
 the assembly were made to feel that they possessed but 
 the name of legislative authority. The opposition 
 members drew up a strong report, reviewing in a criti- 
 cal manner the events of the session, and expressing an 
 emphatic condemnation of the policy of the President ; 
 
404 the coup d'etat. 
 
 but as the paper could not be printed, it was widely 
 circulated in manuscript. 
 
 The session of the senate was closed by decree on 
 the 5th of July. The severity of the restraints upon 
 the press was carried to such an extreme, that the 
 Paris correspondents of three of the London journals 
 were summoned to the department of police, and 
 were assured that in future they would be held per- 
 sonally responsible, not only for the contents of their 
 own letters, but for whatever the papers with which 
 they were connected might say, in leading articles or 
 otherwise, concerning French affairs. 
 
 On the 17th of July the President left Paris, to 
 celebrate the opening of the railway between Paris 
 and Strasbourg. At the latter city he was received 
 with every demonstration of respect, coming now as a 
 sovereign, and not as an adventurous pretender to the 
 throne. All the ceremonies were on the most extensive 
 scale. During his stay at Strasbourg he crossed the 
 Ehine, and went to Baden-Baden, his object being, 
 according to rumor at the time, to seek an interview 
 with the Princess Caroline Stephanie de Vasa, grand- 
 daughter of the Duchess of Baden, to whose hand it 
 was supposed he aspired. Another rumor was that 
 the lady, with whom the President was desirous of an 
 alliance, was another Baden princess, and a grand- 
 daughter of Eugene Beauharnais.* 
 
 • In connection with these rumors, we give a fact of previous 
 occurrence : 
 
 When the late J. Fenimore Cooper -was residing at Paris in 1833, his 
 republican sympathies as well as personal friendship for General 
 Lafayette, led to a familiar and confidential intercourse between them. 
 
PEOPOSALS OF MAKKIAGE. 405 
 
 On his return the President was honored with a 
 grand military display, and an apparently cordial 
 welcome by the Parisians. A change was now made 
 in his ministry, and his household was arranged on 
 quite an imperial footing, a grand marshal of the pal- 
 ace, a grand master of ceremonies, a grand equerry, 
 and officers of like character, being appointed. New 
 titles of nobility were also conferred, higher titles were 
 applied in the government papers to the President 
 himself, all indicating a preparation for the empire. 
 The 15th of August, the birthday of Napoleon, was 
 signalized by fetes of extraordinary magnitude and 
 splendor. The scenes were skillfully adapted to recall 
 the memory and glory of Napoleon. The citizens, 
 
 On one occasion, when calling on Lafayette, Mr. Cooper was received 
 by the servant with an unusual appearance of caution. He found the 
 general alone, who inquired whether he met an acquaintance in tha 
 passage. On finding he had not, Lafayette remarked that his servant 
 must have secreted the visitor in a side room ; and went on to inform 
 his friend that Prince Louis Napoleon Bonaparte had just left him I 
 that although a Bonaparte then risked his life by entering France, the 
 prince had come to propose a marriage with his grand-daughter 
 Clementine, thus uniting the Republicans and Imperialists, and 
 making himself Emperor 1 Lafayette replied that his family adopted 
 the American practice of choosing husbands for themselves, and that 
 the prince could address the lady if he pleased. Of what followed, 
 we are not informed ; but must infer that his suit, if preferred, was 
 unsuccessful, as the lady afterward married M. de Beaumont, French 
 ambassador under Louis Napoleon, to the court of Austria. When in 
 London, some time after, Mr. Cooper mentioned to the Princess 
 Charlotte, (widow of the elder brother of Louis Napoleon,) the 
 prince's daring visit ; to which she only replied, "he is mad I " 
 
 Mr. N. P. Willis, who related the fact some years since, prophetically 
 added, "there is a 'method in his madness,' for the same match 
 between Imperialism and Republicanism haB been the prince's pur- 
 suit ever since, and the chances are that he will bring it about" 
 
406 the coup d'etat. 
 
 however, complied to a manifestly srna.1 extent with 
 tbe request of the government for a general illumina- 
 tion. Solicitations to sign petitions for the restoration 
 of the empire were already addressed to the inhabit- 
 ants of the faubourgs of Paris, but the number of 
 subscribers was not very encouraging. In the month 
 of September, Louis Napoleon made an extensive tour 
 through the south and west of France. Though the 
 accounts in the journals were without doubt exagger- 
 ated, the various receptions and displays arranged hy 
 functionaries of the government, and various means 
 taken to stimulate enthusiasm, yet it must be admitted 
 that this journey was highly successful in producing 
 an exhibition of popular homage and attachment. 
 The name of Napoleon still demonstrated its potency 
 with the masses of the French. Along the entire 
 route the President was hailed with cries of " Vive 
 V JSmpereur" His liberality excited admiration and 
 increased his popularity. He donated thousands of 
 francs to the charitable institutions of various towns 
 through which he passed, and distributed gold with 
 his own hands to the veterans of the old empire. His 
 munificence was even exercised in a way which 
 evinced his arbitrary assumption of power. He pub- 
 lished a decree at Toulon to the effect that the fortifi- 
 cations of that important place were to be immediately 
 enlarged and strengthened. The decree was placarded 
 on all the walls of the town, much to the satisfaction 
 of the inhabitants, who looked upon it not only as a 
 means of increasing the importance of their town, but 
 also of affording labor to the working classes. The 
 President had previously granted two million five 
 
VISIT TO TOTJION AND LYONS. 407 
 
 hundred thousand francs for the building of the new 
 cathedral at Marseilles. This prodigality on the part 
 of Louis Napoleon, without even the formality of 
 asking the legislative corps, was the subject of strong 
 animadversion on the part of those who had hoped 
 that the parliamentary system was not altogether 
 destroyed. 
 
 The ceremonies at Toulon were somewhat ludicrous 
 and unlucky. The mayor, in his confusion, when re- 
 ceiving the President at the gates of the town, forgot 
 the important ceremony of presenting him with the 
 keys of the town. He afterward wished to repair the 
 omission when Louis Napoleon visited the arsenal ; 
 but the admiral told him bluntly that the arsenal was 
 quite independent of the town, and that he (the admi- 
 ral) would allow no mayor to assume any jurisdiction 
 over it. In the ball-room a rather awkward affair 
 occurred. The decorations were of a former period, 
 and the workmen omitted to change the initials " It. 
 F." Fortunately the mayor discovered the mistake in 
 time. The "E." was altered into an "E," which ail 
 once converted Republique Francaise into Errypvrt 
 Frcmcaise. The distant magistracy of Toulon could 
 hardly be blamed for not keeping their mottoes corre- 
 sponding with their oft-changing allegiance to their 
 central government. 
 
 At Lyons, the President witnessed the ceremony of 
 erecting an equestrian statue of the Emperor Napoleon, 
 and made a speech of considerable significance in 
 connection with his progress toward ihe imperial 
 dignity : 
 
 "Lyonese," he said, "your city has always been 
 
408 THE COUP D'ETAT. 
 
 associated by remarkable incidents with the different 
 phases of the life of the Emperor. You hailed him 
 Consul previous to his crossing the Alps to gather fresh 
 laurels. You hailed him in his omnipotence, Emperor ; 
 and when Europe had confined him on an island, you 
 were again among the first, in 1815, to salute him as 
 Emperor. To-day your city is the first to erect a statue 
 to him. This fact is significant. Equestrian statues 
 are only erected to sovereigns who have resigned, and 
 it was on that account the governments who preceded 
 me have ever denied that homage to a power of which 
 they would not admit the legitimacy. And yet who 
 was more legitimate than the Emperor, thrice elected 
 by the people, consecrated by the chief of religion, and 
 recognized by all the continental powers of Europe, 
 who were united to him by bonds of policy and by ties 
 of blood ? The Emperor was the mediator between two 
 hostile epochs. He destroyed the old regime by re- 
 establishing all that was good in it. He destroyed the 
 revolutionary spirit, by causing the blessings of the 
 revolution everywhere to triumph. This is the reason 
 why those who overturned him soon deplored their 
 triumph. . As for those who defended him, I need not 
 call to mind how profoundly they lamented his down- 
 fall. On that account, when the people found them- 
 selves free to make a choice, they directed their eyes to 
 the heir of Napoleon, and it is for the same motive 
 that, from Paris to Lyons, everywhere on my passage 
 the unanimous cry of Vive V Mnpereur, has been 
 raised ! But that cry is much more, in my view, a 
 recollection that affects my heart, than a hope that 
 excites my pride. A faithful servant of my country, 
 I shall ever have but one object — that of reconstituting 
 in this great country, convulsed by so many revolutions 
 and Utopian schemes, a peace founded on conciliation 
 of personB, on the inflexibility of the principles of 
 authority, morality, and affection for the laboring and 
 suffering classes, and of national dignity. We are 
 only just emerging from those critical times, when, the 
 notions of good and evil being confounded, the best 
 minds were perverted. Prudence and patriotism 
 
PLOT SUSPECTED. 409 
 
 require that at such periods the nation should pause 
 and consider, before it fixes its destinies, and it is still 
 difficult for me to know under what name I can render 
 the greatest services. If the humble title of President 
 could facilitate the mission confided to me, and before 
 which I did not recede, I should not, from personal 
 interest, desire to exchange that title for the title of 
 Emperor. Let us, then, deposit on this 6tone our 
 homage to a great man. We thus honor both the 
 glory of France and the generous gratitude of the 
 people, and testify likewise the fidelity of the Lyonese 
 to immortal souvenirs." 
 
 This speech was received with loud cries of Vive 
 V Empereur! It was immediately transmitted by 
 telegraph, and placarded in the streets of Paris. 
 
 At another place, in answer to an address from the 
 authorities urging the Imperial regime, he remarked : 
 " When the general interest is at stake, I will try to 
 anticipate public opinion ; but I follow it in the case 
 of an interest which may appear personal." The sin- 
 cerity of such expressions may be justly subject to sus- 
 picion, when mercenary agents were shouting among 
 the crowds, Vi/oe V Empereur ! 
 
 Previous to the entrance of the President into Mar- 
 seilles, a discovery was made of a supposed plot to 
 assassinate him by means of an infernal machine, in 
 imitation of a similar attempt made upon the life of 
 Napoleon when First Consul. Numerous pieces of 
 gas pipe, so constructed as to answer the purpose of 
 musket barrels, and loaded with hundreds of bullets, 
 were discovered in a house situated on the route by 
 which it was presumed the prince would enter the 
 city. Many arrests were made of individuals supposed 
 
 to have a connection with this affair, and the impression 
 18 
 
4:10 THE COUP D'ETAT. 
 
 was sought to be conveyed that the ramifications of 
 the plot were extended to various prominent places 
 throughout France. There was quite a strong sus- 
 picion on the other hand, that this whole affair 
 was but an ingenious device of the police to increase 
 the popular interest in the President; and there are 
 some important considerations favoring such an idea. 
 
 After having passed over the most of his contem- 
 plated route, and having had a good opportunity to 
 observe the temper and inclinations of tbe people, the 
 prince more explicitly announced his opinions as to 
 the assumption of the title of Emperor, in the following 
 speech at Bordeaux, which is given with the reporter's 
 remarks as to its reception : 
 
 "The object of my journey, as jou are aware, was 
 to become personally acquainted with our beautiful 
 
 firovinces of the south, and to study their necessities, 
 t has, however, given occasion for a much more 
 important result. In fact, and I may say it with a 
 frankness as far removed from vanity as false modesty, 
 never did a people testify in a direct, more spontane- 
 ous, more unanimous manner, their determination to 
 relieve themselves from anxiety for their future condi- 
 tion by consolidating in one hand a power with which 
 they sympathize. (Applause.) 
 
 "The nation now surrounds me with its sympathy, 
 because I do not belong to the family of '•ideologues? 
 To achieve the well-being of the country, there is no 
 necessity for the application of new systems, but it is 
 before all things necessary to give confidence in the 
 present, and security for the future. This is the reason 
 why France appears to wish to return to the empire. 
 ("Yes, yes." "Bravo." " Vive 1' Empereur.") There 
 is, nevertheless, one apprehension to which I must 
 allude. In a spirit of mistrust, certain people exclaim, 
 'T$jb empire is war.' But I say, 'The empire is peace.' 
 
SPEECH AT BORDEAUX. Ill 
 
 It is peace, for France desires it ; and when France is 
 contented, the world is tranquil. (These words, pro- 
 nounced in a firm and emphatic tone, produced an 
 immense sensation.) 
 
 "Glory may be bequeathed as an inheritance, but 
 not war. Did those princes who gloried in being the 
 descendants of Louis XI V. recommence his combats? 
 War is not made for pleasure, it is made from necessity, 
 and at those epochs of transition when, side by side 
 with so many elements of prosperity, so many causes 
 of death also germinate, we may well say with truth, 
 . cursed be he who shall be the first to give the signal in 
 Europe of a coalition, the consequences of which would 
 be incalculable. I admit, however, that I, like the 
 Emperor, have many conquests to make. I desire, as 
 he did, to conquer, by conciliation, dissenting parties, 
 and to^bring back into the current of the great popular 
 streams those hostile rivulets which run to nothing, 
 without profit for any one. 
 
 "I desire to conquer, by religion, by morality, by 
 prosperity, that yet numerous part of the population, 
 which, in the midst of a country of faith and belief, 
 scarcely knows the precepts of Christ — which, in the 
 midst of the most fertile country in the world, can 
 scarcely enjoy such of the produce of the earth as the 
 first necessity requires. (Sensation.) We have im- 
 mense uncultivated territories to clear, roads to make, 
 ports to deepen, rivers to render navigable, canals to 
 finish, our net-work of .railways to complete. 
 
 "We have, opposite to Marseilles, a vast kingdom to 
 assimilate to France ; we have all our great western 
 ports to bring nearer to the American continent, by the 
 rapidity of communication which we still want ; in a 
 word, we have everywhere ruins to rebuild, false gods 
 to cast down, truths to make triumph. (Prolonged 
 applause.) Thus do I understand the empire — if the 
 empire is to be re-established. (Sensation. "Vivel' 
 Empereur!") Such are the conquests which I contem- 
 plate ; and all you who surround me, who desire, with 
 me, the good of your country, you are my soldiers." 
 ("■Yes, yes." Repeated plaudits.) 
 
412 
 
 THE COUP D ETAT. 
 
 On his way back to Paris, Louis Napoleon stopped at 
 the Chateau d'Amboise, and liberated Abd-el-Kader 
 from his captivity, informing him that he would be 
 conducted to Broussa in Turkey, where he would re- 
 ceive from the French government an allowance 
 befitting his rank. 
 
 About the middle of October the President reached 
 Paris, and was greeted with imposing demonstrations 
 and great apparent enthusiasm. The ordinary elements 
 of such spectacles were more profuse than usual — tri- 
 umphal arches, banners, transparencies, gilded eagles, 
 deputations, processions, the army, and the citizens in 
 their holiday suits, all exhibited their splendors to the 
 best advantage under the favor of a cloudless sky, and, 
 weather as fine as could be wished. The inscriptions 
 and devices exhibited a remarkable uniformity of sen- 
 timent, the consequence, it was charged, of being pre- 
 pared by the orders of the government, though this 
 was denied by the official journal, which maintained 
 that the reception in all parts was the spontaneous 
 tribute of the people of Paris. The prince entered the 
 city on horseback, by the bridge of Austerlitz, which 
 was spanned by a grand arch, dedicated by " the city 
 of Paris to Louis Napoleon, Emperor." Of similar 
 purport were all the inscriptions. An immense con- 
 course of troops and people followed him to the Tuil- 
 eries, with shouts of " Vive Napoleon III! " He was 
 surrounded by a numerous staff, among whom were 
 several foreign officers ; but it was remarked that none 
 of the foreign ministers took part in the display. In 
 the evening the city was illuminated. This was, with- 
 out doubt, the finest reception with which the President 
 
MESSAGE TO THE SENATE. 413 
 
 had ever met in Paris, and must have satisfied him, 
 liad he any scruples, of the feasibility of speedily 
 reaching the summit of his ambition. 
 
 He now no longer hesitated in taking that step tor 
 which he had made such long and patient preparations. 
 By talent, by maneuvering, by flattery, Dy unfaltering 
 energy of purpose, and the unscrupulous use of all 
 necessary means, he had formed the antecedents of the 
 empire. Immediately, therefore, on his return, he 
 issued a decree, summoning the senate to meet on the 
 4th of November, to consider the question of changing 
 the form of government, and re-establishing the empire, 
 in consequence of the expressed wishes of the people 
 of France. The senate met on the day appointed, and 
 was opened by Prince Jerome Bonaparte with a brief 
 statement of the object of the session. The following 
 message from the President was then read by the 
 minister of state : 
 
 "Senatoes, — The nation has clearly manifested its 
 wish for the re-establishment of the empire. Confident 
 in your patriotism and your intelligence, I have con- 
 voked you for the purpose of deliberating on that grave 
 question, and of intrusting you with the regulation of 
 the new order of things. If you should adopt it, you 
 will think, no doubt, as I do, that the constitution of 
 1852 ought to be maintained, and then the modifications 
 recognized as indispensable will in no way touch its 
 fundamental basis. 
 
 "The change which is in preparation will bear chiefly 
 on the form, and yet the resumption of the Imperial 
 system is, for France, of immense significance. In 
 fact, in the re-establishment of the empire, the people 
 finds a guarantee for its interests, and a satisfaction for 
 its just pride. That re-establishment guarantees the 
 interests of the people, by insuring the future, by 
 closing the era of revolutions, and by again consecrat- 
 
414 the coup d'etat. 
 
 ing the conquests of '89. It satisfies its just pride, 
 because in restoring, with liberty and reflection, that 
 which thirty-seven years ago the entire of Europe had 
 overturned by the force of arms, in the midst of the 
 disasters of the country, the people nobly avenges its 
 reverses without victims, without threatening any inde- 
 pendence, and without troubling the peace of'the world. 
 
 "I do not ignore, nevertheless, all that is full 
 of peril, in at this day accepting and placing on 
 one's head the crown of Napoleon; but my appre- 
 hensions diminish with the idea that, representing as 
 I do, by so many titles, the cause of the people and 
 the national will, it will be the nation which, in ele- 
 vating me to the throne, will herself crown me. 
 
 (Signed) LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 Given at the Palace of St. Cloud, Nov. 4. 1852." 
 
 A proposition to modify the constitution, signed by 
 ten senators, was then presented ; and a committee of 
 ten was appointed, which submitted a long report, 
 accompanied by a Senatus Consultum, consisting of 
 eight articles. After some discussion on each of the 
 articles, the whole was adopted by a vote of eighty-six 
 out of eighty-seven senators. The substance of this act 
 of the senate is as follows : it declares that, 1. The em- 
 pire is re-established, and Louis Napoledh Bonaparte 
 is Emperor under the name of Napoleon III. ; 2. The 
 imperial dignity is hereditary in his direct and legiti- 
 mate male descendants, by order of primogeniture ; 
 3. If he has no male descendants, he may adopt the 
 legitimate children and descendants in the male line 
 of the brothers of Napoleon I. ; 4. Adoption is inter- 
 dicted to his descendants ; 5. He is to regulate by an 
 organic decree the order of succession, in case he 
 should leave no direct, legitimate or adopted heir ; 
 6. The members of the family of Louis Napoleon who 
 
COMPLIANCE OF THE SENATE. 415 
 
 can eventually be called to the sucession,. ana theis 
 descendants, constitute the imperial family, whose posi- 
 tion is regulated by the senatus consultum, and none 
 of whom can marry without the Emperor's sanction ; 
 7. The constitution of January 15, 1852, is maintained 
 in all its provisions not contrary to the present senatus 
 consultum, and no modification of it can be effected ex- 
 cept in the manner and by the means which it has 
 prescribed ; 8. The proposition that the empire be re- 
 established upon this basis and on these conditions, is 
 to be submitted to the people for their acceptance. 
 
 Immediately after the adoption of this act, the sen- 
 ators in full costume, and the cardinals in scarlet robes, 
 preceded by an escort of cavalry, repaired to the 
 palace of St. Cloud, where they were ushered into the 
 presence of the Prince President. 
 
 In his reply to the senate at this interview, Louis 
 
 Napoleon observed : 
 
 "When, forty -eight years since, in this same palace, in 
 this same room, and under analogous circumstances, the 
 senate came to offer the crown to the chief of my fam- 
 ily, the Emperor replied in these memorable words : 
 'My spirit will no longer be with my posterity from 
 the day when that posterity shall cease to meri' the 
 love and the confidence of the great nation.' What 
 now most affects my heart is the thought that the spirit 
 of the Emperor is with me, that his ideas guide me, 
 that his shade protects me, since, by a solemn proceed- 
 ing, you come, in the name of the French people, to 
 prove to me that I have merited the confidence of the 
 country. It is not necessary for me to tell you that 
 my constant care will be to labor with you to promote 
 the grandeur and prosperity of France." 
 
 On the 21st and 22d days of November, the expres- 
 sion of the popular will was taken throughout France. 
 
416 THE coup d'etat. 
 
 Bat little opposition was manifested. The result of the 
 vote was as follows : 
 
 Foj the empire, 7,864,189 
 
 Againstit, .-. 253,145 
 
 Votes canceled as illegal, 63,326 
 
 Majority for Louis Napoleon, 7,547,718 
 
 On the 1st of December, the legislative corps, num- 
 bering two hundred and forty membei^s, assembled for 
 the purpose of making the official declaration of the 
 election ; then proceeding to St. Cloud, in full costume, 
 announced the result. The next day, December 22d, 
 the anniversary of the coup d'etat, Louis Napoleon 
 made his public entry, as Emperor, into Paris. His 
 arrival was greeted with the acclamations of the peo- 
 ple, the national guard, and the army. The public 
 proclamation of the empire was made at the Hotel de 
 Ville during the same morning, previously to his arrival. 
 To the congratulatory addresses from the senate and thd 
 legislative corps, his Imperial Majesty made the follow- 
 ing reply : 
 
 " Gentlemen : The new reign which you this day in- 
 augurate has not its origin, as so many others which 
 history records, in violence, conquest, or intrigue ; it 
 is, as you have just declared, the legal result of the 
 will of an entire people — what it had founded in the 
 midst of agitation. 
 
 "I am deeply grateful to the nation which three 
 times in four years has supported me by its suffrage, 
 and which each time has only augmented its majority 
 in order to increase my power. But the more this 
 power gains in extent and in vital force, the more need 
 it has of enlightened men like those whom I address, to 
 guide me by their counsels, and to reduce my authority 
 within just limits, if ever it should transgress them. 
 
 " From this day I take with the crown the name of 
 Napoleon HI., because the opinion of the people has 
 
THE NEW EMPEEOB's INAUGURAL. 417 
 
 already bestowed it on me in their acclamations, be- 
 cause the senate has legally proposed it, and because 
 the whole nation has ratified it. 
 
 "Does this, however, signify that in taking this title, 
 I fall into the error imputed to the prince who, return- 
 ing from exile, declared all that had been done in his 
 absence null and void ? 
 
 " So erroneous a notion is far from me. Not only do 
 I recognize the governments which have preceded me, 
 but I inherit in some sort what they have accomplished 
 of good and evil ; for successive governments, notwith- 
 standing their different origin, are severally bound by 
 the acts of their predecessors. 
 
 " But the more I accept that which, for the last fifty 
 years, history hands down to us with its inflexible 
 authority, the less was it allowed me t-o pass over in 
 silence the glorious reign of the chief of my family, 
 and the title, regular although ephemeral, of his 6on, 
 which the chambers proclaimed with the last outburst 
 of conquered patriotism. 
 
 " Thus, then, the title of Napoleon III. is not one of 
 those dynastic and obsolete pretensions which seem an 
 insult alike to truth and common sense ; it is the horn- ' 
 age paid to a government which was legitimate, and 
 to which we are indebted for the finest pages of our 
 modern history. My reign does not date from 1815 ; it 
 dates from the very instant that you have communicated 
 to me the suffrages of the nation. 
 
 "And here receive the oath, that I will use every 
 exertion to assure the prosperity of this country ; and 
 that, while maintaining peace, I will yield nothing 
 which affects the honor and dignity of France." 
 
 The most enthusiastic cries of "Yive l'Bmpereur," 
 "Vive Napoleon III.," followed this speech. 
 
 The senate was convened the next day, and pro- 
 ceeded to determine the civil list of the new regime- 
 A general amnesty relating to offenses of the press, and 
 also in many cases to political offenses, was declared. 
 18* 
 
418 
 
 The presumptive inheritance of the crown was settled 
 upon the ex-King Jerome Bonaparte and his family, 
 who bear the title of "their Imperial Highnesses." 
 Prince Napoleon Bonaparte, the cousin of the Emperor, 
 was appointed viceroy of the kingdom of Algeria. 
 
 There was no hesitation on the part of foreign 
 powers to acknowledge the empire. The acquies- 
 cence of England was so promptly accorded as to 
 excite the "most vivid satisfaction" of his Imperial 
 Majesty. The Pope conveyed to the Emperor expres- 
 sions of his entire satisfaction with the new order of 
 things. 
 
 The Emperor submitted to the senate certain amend- 
 ments to the last constitution, whereby the prerogatives 
 of granting amnesties, making treaties, decreeing pub- 
 lic works, and the right of ministers to vote upon the 
 budget, were assured to him. The senate ventured on 
 . a small show of independence, by hesitating to confirm 
 the proposed modifications, and finally appointed a 
 committee to wait upon his Majesty. This committee 
 used every argument to dissuade him from his deter- 
 mination, but his only answer was : " So the senate 
 wants a conflict, for form's sake." 
 
 To give eclat to the Emperor's clemency, Abd-el- 
 Kader was permitted to come to Paris, while these 
 first days of the restored empire were elapsing. He 
 was entertained with splendid military reviews, and 
 visits to all places of interest in the grand capital. 
 His presence in public excited full as much attention 
 and applause as did that of the Emperor. Had he 
 been able to speak the language, he would have 
 become celebrated for the readiness and piquancy of 
 
THE NEW EMPRESS. 419 
 
 his repartees. One day he was taken to Versailles, 
 to visit the palace of Louis XIV. His hosts avoided 
 showing him the rooms, in which is the series of 
 pictures illustrating the war in Algiers. He, however, 
 insisted on seeing them, and his desire was gratified. 
 He said nothing till he came to the splendid painting 
 by Vernet, representing the taking of the tent of Abd- 
 el-Kader. He then quietly observed : "If I had had 
 painters at my command, I should have ordered pic- 
 tures, too ! " After being royally entertained at Paris, 
 he sailed on the 21st of December for his place of 
 exile in the East. 
 
 In the month of January, 1853, Paris was taken by 
 surprise on the announcement of the expected speedy 
 marriage of the Emperor. The negotiations with the 
 royal families of Europe, if they ever existed, came to 
 an unsuccessful conclusion. Either the charms of the 
 lady, or the sudden discovery of a more profound and 
 useful policy, put an end to all schemes of politico- 
 matrimonial arrangements, and Napoleon III. selected 
 his wife, as one of the humblest of his subjects might 
 have done. The present Empress of France is a 
 Spanish lady, but of Irish extraction, her family 
 having intermarried with the noble Spanish house of 
 Palafox. She bore the name of Eugenie de Montejo, 
 Countess of Teba. She possesses rare personal at- 
 tractions, but more in the style of English than of 
 Spanish beauty. Her complexion is transparently 
 fair, her features regular and yet full of expression. 
 She is a little above middle stature, with manners 
 extremely winning, and at the time of her marriage 
 was about twenty-six years of age. With brilliant 
 
420 THE coup d'etat. 
 
 social charms, she was naturally the center of fashion 
 in the gay capital, and attracted in a special manner 
 the attentions of the new Emperor. His proposals to 
 her were made and accepted on the 16th of January ; 
 and on the following day the fact was publicly 
 announced. One immediate consequence was the 
 resignation of the ministry. The resignations were 
 not, however, accepted. 
 
 She is said ever to have been quite a dashing, ec- 
 centric, and independent young lady, and has all her 
 life followed the dictates of her own fancy. She used 
 frequently to be observed on the Prado, at Madrid, in 
 the midst of the fashionable crowd, in a simple little 
 carriage drawn by two ponies, no larger than dogs, 
 and which she drove herself, accompanied by her 
 sister or friend, and with some noblemen of her family 
 on a very small seat behind. The Queen of Spain has 
 been seen to recognize her in this equipage. Many 
 piquant anecdotes are told of her free and rather 
 unfeminine conduct in both Madrid and Paris. In 
 the former metropolis, she once waited on an actor of 
 the French theater, with the somewhat abrupt, though 
 dashing and sprightly declaration that she lilted Mm, 
 and would learn something of his history and travels. 
 She insisted that he should take a seat in her carriage. 
 Remonstrance would not avail. Into the carriage he 
 did get, and after a ride of four hours around the city, 
 he was safely landed at his cafe, much to his owd 
 astonishment, and her amusement. 
 
 On the 22d of January the various chief function- 
 aries of state presented themselves at the Tuileries, 
 to receive from the Emperor the announcement of his 
 
THE EMPEEOE ON HIS MAEEIAGE. 421 
 
 intended marriage, which he made in the following 
 speech : 
 
 "Messieues : I yield to the wish so often manifested 
 by the country, in coming to announce to you my 
 marriage. 
 
 "The alliance which I contract, is not in accord with 
 the traditions of ancient policy, and therein is its 
 advantage. France, by its successive revolutions, has 
 ever abruptly separated from the rest of Europe. 
 Every wise government ought to try to make it re- 
 enter into the pale of the old monarchies. But this re- 
 sult will be more surely attained by a straightforward 
 and frank policy, by loyalty in conduct, than by royal 
 alliances, which create a false security, and often sub- 
 stitute family interests for those of the nation. More- 
 over, the example of the past has left in the mind of 
 the people superstitious feelings. It has not forgotten 
 that for seventy years foreign princesses have mounted 
 the throne but to behold their race dispossessed and 
 proscribed by war or by revolution. 
 
 "One woman alone seemed to bring happiness, and 
 to live more than the others in the memory of the 
 people — and that woman, the modest and good wife of 
 Gen. Bonaparte, was rit>t the issue of royal blood. It 
 must, however, be admitted that in 1810 the marriage 
 of Napoleon I. with Marie Louise was a great event. 
 It was a pledge for the future, a real satisfaction to the 
 national pride, as the ancient and illustrious branch 
 of the house of Austria, who had been so long at war 
 with us, was seen to solicit the alliance of the elected 
 chief of the new empire. Under the last reign, on the 
 contrary, the amour propre of the country had to 
 suffer, when the heir to the crown solicited, fruitlessly, 
 during several years, a princely alliance, to obtain it 
 only in a secondary rank, and in a different religion. 
 
 " "When in the presence of old Europe, one is borne 
 on by the force of a new principle to the height of 
 ancient dynasties, it is not by giving an ancient char- 
 acter to one's escutcheon, (envieUMssant son blason,) 
 and by seeking to introduce oneself at all costs into a 
 
422 
 
 family, that one is accepted. It is rather by evei 
 remembering one's origin, by preserving one's own 
 character, and by adopting frankly, in presence of 
 Europe, the position of parvenu — a glorious title when 
 one obtains it by the free suffrages of a great people. 
 Thus, obliged to depart from precedents followed to 
 the present day, my marriage became a private affair, 
 and there remained only the choice of the person. 
 
 "She who has been the object of my preference is 
 of distinguished birth. French in heart, by education, 
 by the recollection of the blood shed by her father in 
 the cause of the empire, she has, as a Spaniard, the ad- 
 vantage of not having in France a family to whom it 
 might be necessary to give honors and fortune. En- 
 dowed with all the qualities of the mind, she will be 
 the ornament of the throne ; in the day of danger she 
 would be one of its courageous supporters. A Catholic, 
 she will address to heaven the same prayers with me 
 for the happiness of France. In fine, by her grace and 
 her goodness, she will, I have the firm hope, endeavor 
 to revive, in the same position, the virtues of the 
 Empress Josephine. 
 
 "I come, then, Messieurs, to announce to France that 
 I have preferred the woman whom I love and whom I 
 respect, to one who is unknown, and whose alliance 
 would have had advantages mixed with sacrifices. 
 "Without disdaining any one, I yet yield to my inclina- 
 tions, but after having taken counsel from my reason and 
 my convictions. In fine, by placing the independence, 
 the qualities of the heart, domestic happiness, above 
 dynastic prejudices and the calculations of ambition, 
 I shall not be the less strong because I shall be more free. 
 
 "Soon proceeding to Notre Dame I shall present the 
 Empress to the people and to the army ; the confidence 
 they have in me assures me of their sympathy, and you, 
 Messieurs, on learning better to appreciate her whom 
 I have chosen, you will allow that on this occasion also 
 I have been inspired by Providence." 
 
 The civil marriage was celebrated at the palace ot 
 the Tuileries on the 29th of January, and the religious 
 
CELEBRATION OF THE MAEEIAGE. 423 
 
 ceremonies took place the next day, which was Sunday, 
 at the church of Notre Dame. At an early hour in 
 the morning all Paris was astir, to witness one of those 
 displays which have so often appeared to compensate 
 the French for the loss of their liberties. The description 
 of the scene is given in the words of an eye-witness : 
 
 " Shortly after 9 o'clock, large bodies of cavalry and 
 infantry were to be seen directing their way from the 
 different barracks in and around Paris toward the point 
 allotted to them on the route between the palace of the 
 Elys6e, and between the latter and the cathedral of 
 Notre Dame. At the same time the whole of the na- 
 tional guards of Paris were called out for the purpose 
 of doing honor to the day, by forming the line on one 
 side of the streets through which the procession was to 
 pass, while the infantry of the line formed the other. 
 A vast number of deputations' of the trades and work- 
 people were to be seen with flags and banners directing 
 their steps toward the garden of the Tuileries, which 
 was the spot specially set aside for that purpose. Many 
 of the deputations were very picturesque, consisting as 
 they did of young women dressed in white, adorned 
 with wreaths of flowers, and carrying boquets in their 
 hands. 
 
 "A wooden structure was raised, in three com- 
 partments, over the grand entrance and the two side 
 doors, and painted in the fashion of the medieval ages, 
 to match the character of the building. Green pre- 
 dominated in the decorations, that being the color of 
 the Emperor, and the letters ' N. E.' were to be seen 
 in various places, in honor of the imperial couple. 
 Above the wooden erection, long draperies of green 
 velvet floated to the wind, and higher up, along the 
 facade of the building, was to be seen a line of flags 
 of various colors ; higher still, the old towers themselves 
 were covered with gold brocade. The effect was unusu- 
 ally rich ; and as the weather was dry, though cold, the 
 pleasure of regarding these precious materials, thus 
 exposed to the ppen air, was not marred by any 
 
424 THE coup d'etat. 
 
 apprehension of injury from rain. The lower part of the 
 decorations near the various entrances, was hung with 
 crimson velvet, edged with gold lace. 
 
 " The first feeling of the spectator on entering was one 
 of unmixed admiration. Along the whole of the nave 
 was suspended from the arched roof an absolute forest 
 of chandeliers, containing thousands of wax lights. 
 The pillars were enveloped, from plinth to capital, with 
 crimson velvet. At the top of each capital was affixed 
 a richly gilt shield, bearing a gilt eagle. Between the 
 pillars, springing from the arches, higher up, was to be 
 seen a drapery of crimson velvet, edged down the sides 
 with an imitation of ermine, and fringed at the bottom 
 with deep gold lace; this drapery served to mask the 
 wood- work of a long line of galleries, "erected from pil- 
 lar to pillar, and filled with elegantly dressed ladies. 
 Again, higher up, a pallium of green velvet, studded 
 with golden stars, was seen between every two pillars, 
 and bearing in its center a gigantic 'N - .' Garlands of 
 flowers were festooned among these draperies, and other 
 shields were placed on the flat wall of the building, under 
 the lofty windows, each having on it a figure of Our 
 Lady, to whom the cathedral is dedicated. The crim- 
 son velvet on the pillars next to the nave, had no other 
 ornament than an edging of gold lace under the capital 
 of each ; but those of the side aisles were studded with 
 golden stars, and bore the letter 'N' in front. Three 
 chandeliers, one large one, and two smaller, gave light 
 to each tribune above ; and three ranges of immense 
 lustres of beautifully cut glass, ran down the center of 
 the nave. At the eastern end of the building the chan- 
 cel had been cut off from the ceremony by the erection 
 of a temporary altar just where the transepts leave the 
 choir. Above the altar rose a lofty canopy of crimson 
 velvet, lined, to all appearance, with ermine, and sur- 
 mounted with a gilt eagle of immense size. Between 
 this canopy and the altar, was to be seen a sort of taber- 
 nacle in the Byzantine style, which extended at each 
 side to the transepts, and thus formed a screen, shutting 
 out the chancel and its side aisles. But though the 
 building was cut into two unequal parts, the portion 
 
THE MAKKIAGE CKEEMONT. 425 
 
 not occupied by the ceremony was by no means lost, 
 as immense chandeliers hung from the roof in that part 
 of the church, just the same as in that appropriated to 
 the spectators. The consequence of this illumination 
 was, that as the temporary screen broke the distance, 
 and rendered the view uncertain, the lines of lights 
 appeared absolutely interminable, and the general ef- 
 fect was infinitely enhanced. 
 
 "About 12J o'clock, some of the deputy chamberlains 
 of the palace appeared in their scarlet uniforms, and 
 immediately the drums beat a salute and the trumpets 
 sounded a flourish. Marshal Valliant entered the mo- 
 ment after, and then came a number of ladies in dresses 
 of the brightest colors and the richest materials. 
 
 " The clergy then proceeded down the aisle, with the 
 Archbishop of Paris at their head, to meet the Emperor 
 and the Empress. At five minutes to one, the Emperor 
 and Empress arrived, and having been offered the 
 morsel of the true cross to kiss by the archbishop, four 
 ecclesiastics held a rich dais over the imperial pair, and 
 the procession advanced up the church. Marshal Mag- 
 nan and the Duke de Bassang led the way, followed by 
 Marshal de St. Arnaud and the Duke de Cambaceres. 
 Then came the Emperor, leading the Empress by the 
 hand, he advancing on the right. The Empress was 
 exceedingly pale, but perfectly composed. She looked 
 neither to the right or to the left, and advanced stead- 
 ily. She wore a dress of white velvet. A vail flowed 
 from underneath the small crown sparkling with dia- 
 monds. The front of her dress and the basque behind 
 ako shone with the same rich ornaments. The Empe- 
 ror was dressed in the uniform of a general officer. He 
 had on the grand collar of the Legion of Honor which 
 had belonged to Napoleon, and the collar of the Golden 
 Fleece, which had been suspended from the neck of 
 Charles V., and which the Queen of Spain had sent to 
 him. The Emperor looked uncommonly well — in high 
 spirits and good health. 
 
 " The cortege returned to the palace of the Tuileries 
 in the same order as it went to Notre Dame ; but, in- 
 stead of following the streets, it came along the quay, 
 
426 
 
 as far as the Place de la Concorde, and entered tha 
 palace by the grand entrance to the garden of the 
 Tuileries. The deputations, drawn up in the gardens, 
 were "respectful but not warm in their salutations." 
 
 The Emperor signalized his marriage by pardoning 
 four thousand three hundred and twelve persons, who 
 tfere suffering banishment or imprisonment for political 
 offenses ; but the list embraced the names of no men 
 of prominence, and by its extent, evinced the actual 
 rigor by which his rule had been previously marked. 
 All the banished generals, and the men. of note, who 
 were proscribed after the events of December 1851, 
 are still under the ban. The Empress gained large 
 accessions of esteem and popularity by his liberality. 
 The city of Paris desired to present her with a superb 
 necklace, valued at six hundred thousand francs. This 
 present she declined, and at her request, the municipal 
 council devoted the money to the foundation of a school 
 for poor girls, to be under her special patronage. A 
 quarter of a million of francs, which her husband 
 placed at her disposal, she also devoted in charity. 
 
 The legislative assembly met on the 14th of February. 
 In his speech at the opening, after relating the prosper- 
 ous and tranquil state of the nation, the Emperor said : 
 
 " These results have not cost great efforts, because 
 they were in the minds and for the interests of all. To 
 those who would doubt their importance, I will reply, 
 that scarcely fourteen months ago France was delivered 
 up to the hazards of anarchy. To those who regret 
 that a wider field has not been given to liberty, I will 
 reply, that liberty has never aided in founding a dura- 
 ble political edifice ; it crowns it when it has been 
 consolidated by time. Let us, besides, not forget that 
 the immense majority of the country has confidence 
 
CONDITION OF THE COUNTRY. 427 
 
 in the present and faith in the future ; there still re- 
 main incorrigible individuals, who, forgetful of their 
 own experience, of their past errors, and of their dis- 
 appointments, obstinately persist in paying no atten- 
 tion to the national will, deny the reality of facts, and 
 in the midst of a sea which every day grows more 
 tranquil, call for tempests, in which they would be 
 the first to be swallowed up. These secret proceed- 
 ings of the different parties serve no purpose but to 
 show their weakness, and the government, instead of 
 being disturbed at them, only thinks of governing 
 France and tranquilizing Europe." 
 
 The condition of France, under a stable and efficient 
 government, evinced the marks of an immediate and 
 increasing prosperity. The public revenues increased, 
 and the financial condition of the state became better 
 than it had been for the previous twenty years. By 
 the firm determination of the Emperor, and the zeal- 
 ous cooperation of the Assembly, the. expenditures 
 were brought within the limits of the national income ; 
 a rare occurrence in French finance. Large reduc- 
 tions were made in the line of the army, and every 
 indication of a peaceful intention was given by the 
 Emperor. Considerable apprehension, however, was 
 felt in England, of a rupture between the two gov- 
 ernments. It is related that at this time an English 
 nobleman was riding with the Emperor toward Coin- 
 piegne, and being desirous of surprising him into a 
 candid answer, abruptly asked him if he really thought 
 of invading England. The reply to this rather impu- 
 dent question was : " I have no such intention unless 
 you force me to it ; but from what I see and hear of 
 your democratic spirit in England, I think it very 
 likely that I shall have to go over some day, and 
 
428 THE coup d'etat. 
 
 help your Queen." My lord was compelled to pocket 
 the rejoinder. 
 
 Louis Napoleon evidently strengthened himself 
 greatly by the assumption of the imperial title and 
 dignity. He took his place among sovereigns, and 
 Europe was compelled to acknowledge him as one of 
 the crowned heads. He gathered around his person 
 those memories of the First Emperor, which are so 
 precious to the mass of Frenchmen, and which tend 
 in their eyes to invest with a bewildering splendor 
 the individual who by any act can connect them with 
 himself. As he became more exalted, absorbing in 
 himself more of the higher powers of the state, his 
 rule from necessity became more rigorous. As usual, 
 the public press first felt this increased rigor. Its 
 freedom was sternly suppressed by warnings, censor- 
 ship, and severe penalties. Yet his occasional clem- 
 ency toward political offenders won him great praise ; 
 more than was deserved, when it still remained true 
 that great numbers languished in the prisons, or died 
 after untold sufferings in the penal colonies. 
 
 The Emperor's rival, General Cavaignac, remained 
 unreconciled to him, though submitting to his rule. 
 He continued a rigid republican, as was his father 
 before him. The following anecdote is given of 
 him : Bergere, the prefect of the Seine, met him 
 at the horticultural exhibition, and raised his hat. 
 The general responded to the civility with a frigid, 
 stiffness. " But," said the prefect, approaching him 
 more nearly, and mingling cordiality with depreca- 
 tion in his tones, " General Cavaignac's services to 
 society, and his varied worth, command a respect and 
 
KEPTJBLTCAN DEMONSTRATION. 429 
 
 esteem, the expression of which ought not to be af- 
 fected by a difference in political opinions." " It is 
 not a simple difference of opinion between us," re- 
 plied the ex-dictator ; " we belong to different camps." 
 A republican demonstration, such as had not been 
 attempted since the coup d'etat, took place in Paris 
 not long after the imperial marriage, when a body of 
 nearly twenty thousand men marched together in the 
 funeral procession of Madame Raspail, wife of the 
 celebrated republican, then a state-prisoner on ac- 
 count of his political views. A detachment of cavalry 
 and a strong force of police were present, and pre- 
 vented any speeches over the grave. This immense 
 line of men, five deep, marching with bare heads and 
 in solemn silence past the columns of liberty on the 
 Place de la Bastile, evinced the yet 6trong sentiment 
 in the hearts of many against the existing form of 
 government, as well as the popularity of the impris- 
 oned Easpail. 
 
CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAR. 
 
 Louis Napoleon declared that the "Empire was 
 peace ; " but it did not long continue so. It was in- 
 ternal peace to France; for it placed in one hand 
 those vast powers of the state, under which all op- 
 posing political parties were crushed. But it was 
 consolidated by a war which revived in a degree the 
 military excitements and glories of the first empire. 
 For this domestic influence, this confirming of his own 
 power at home, and the increase of his influence in 
 the politics of Europe, the French Emperor was the 
 more ready to engage in that war with the Emperor 
 of Russia, which has signalized the middle of the 
 present century. 
 
 The Emperor Nicholas of Russia, throughout his 
 whole reign, directed his policy toward the extension 
 of his influence in the affairs of Turkey. The osten- 
 sible motive for his interference in the affairs of that 
 nation in the year 1853, was his solicitude respecting 
 the Holy Places, so called, in Palestine, and also con- 
 cerning the condition of those subjects of the Sultan 
 who belonged to the Greek church. Regarded 
 throughout all the Russias with an almost religious 
 reverence, as the great defender of that church, he 
 claimed the right to extend his protection over its 
 members living under a Mohammedan sovereign. 
 
KUSSIAN AGGBESSIONS, 431 
 
 The disputes between himself and the Sublime Porte 
 early attracted the attention of the prominent nations 
 of Europe. The "Western States properly regarded 
 the independence of Turkey as essential to the main- 
 tenance of the political equilibrium of Europe. This 
 independence was now seriously assailed by Eussia. 
 Early in the history of the dispute, a French official 
 journal contained an article, attributed to the pen of 
 Louis Napoleon himself, in which it was maintained 
 that France was desirous that the treaties of 1815 
 should be upheld, and that the Czar should be pre- 
 vented from seizing upon Constantinople, as that act 
 would be inconsistent with the balance of power 
 established by those and subsequent treaties. The 
 article plainly intimated that France would be found 
 with the other powers, resisting the pretensions of 
 Nicholas. Meanwhile the combined fleets of England 
 and.France in the Mediterranean were moved to within 
 striking distance of the probable scene of conflict. 
 
 An attempt upon the life of the French Emperor 
 was made on the 4th of July, 1853. He was to at- 
 tend the opening of the Opera Comique. Three men 
 stationed themselves at the door, by which he was to 
 enter the building. When ordered to withdraw, they 
 refused. Several others joined them in resisting the 
 police, but they were all surrounded and captured. 
 They were found to be well armed. Thirty-three 
 persons in all were arrested ; and on the trial the dis- 
 covery was made of the existence of secret societies 
 organized for the purpose of assassinating the Emperor, 
 and proclaiming the Kepublic. One of the parties 
 had agreed to shoot him on a given signal, and sue- 
 
432 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAR. 
 
 ceeded, on the occasion referred to, in getting within 
 three feet of him, but did not fire simply because the 
 signal was not made. Almost the entire number 
 were found guilty, and sentenced to imprisonment and 
 banishment for periods varying from three to eight 
 years. 
 
 Meanwhile, affairs in the East became more com- 
 plicated and threatening. The original grounds of 
 dispute between Turkey and Russia began to be lost 
 sight of in the greater scheme of attack evidently 
 meditated by the Czar, upon the integrity of the Ot- 
 toman Empire, and thus upon the general peace of 
 Europe. England and France maintained that they 
 were bound by treaties to uphold the independence 
 of the Sultan. They announced their intention to act 
 according to the purport of those treaties. Diplomatic 
 notes, filled with skillful pleas, explanations, and ar- 
 guments, passed constantly between the different 
 parties to the strife. Recriminations also were not 
 lacking. Russia then, having concentrated troops 
 upon her southern frontier, ordered them to take post 
 in the Danubian provinces. It was claimed on her 
 part that this was not intended as an act of war, but 
 merely as a means of obtaining material guarantees, 
 until the Ottoman government should yield to the 
 demands which had been urged for the past two 
 years. Some 80,000 Russian troops, therefore, en- 
 tered Moldavia and "Wallachia. The French and 
 English combined squadrons were at the same time 
 drawing nearer to Constantinople, and the represen- 
 tatives of these governments were encouraging the 
 Sultan with their counsels and promises. By the 
 
OUTBREAK OF HOSTILITIES. 433 
 
 advice of his allies the Snltan agreed not to consider 
 the occupation of the provinces as a sufficient reason 
 for war, while they in the meantime exerted them- 
 selves to bring about an amicable settlement of the 
 affair. Austria offered her services as a mediator, 
 and a conference of the great powers of Europe was 
 held at Yienna, which drew up a series of proposi- 
 tions as the basis of an adjustment. This basis was 
 accepted by Russia, for it admitted substantially 
 what the Czar had claimed. 
 
 But it was rejected by the Sultan, as making the 
 very concessions to which he had persistently ob- 
 jected. The Sultan very properly required that the 
 Russian troops should withdraw from the principali- 
 ties they had invaded, and declared his determination 
 to commence hostilities unless this demand was 
 promptly acceded to. "With a refusal to comply, the 
 war commenced. Between the 28th of October and 
 the 4th of November, four bodies of Turkish troops, 
 the strongest of which consisted of 18,000, crossed the 
 Danube at different points. Though warmly resisted, 
 the Turks established themselves on the north side of 
 the river. When the news of the passage of the 
 Danube was received in Constantinople, the English 
 and French Ambassadors ordered twelve vessels of 
 the combined squadron into the Bosphorus. 
 
 A naval engagement on the Black Sea took place 
 on the 30th of November, in which the Turks acted 
 bravely but suffered severely. A small Turkish fleet, 
 convoying a number of transports laden with mate- 
 rials of war for the coast of Circassia, was chased into 
 the harbor of Sinope. The Russian fleet followed, 
 S 28 
 
434 THE EMPIRE AND THE KrSSIAN WAE. 
 
 and succeeded in destroying three frigates, one steam 
 frigate, two schooners, and three transports. The in- 
 telligence of this affair created great excitement in 
 Paris and London. The French Emperor was espe- 
 cially indignant, and declared his intention to act with 
 energy in resisting the aggressions of Russia. 
 
 The war actually going on hetween Russia and 
 Turkey, efforts, however, were still made hy England, 
 France, Austria, and Prussia, to secure a satisfactory 
 peace. At the same time extensive preparations were 
 making hy the two former nations for active measures 
 of assistance to Turkey. On the 30th of December, 
 the French minister for Foreign Affairs addressed a 
 note to the different French legations in Europe, in- 
 tended to define the actual condition of the contro- 
 versy, and the line of conduct which France and Eng- 
 land would pursue. He reviewed the course of 
 Russia, showed how much Turkey had borne, and 
 how sincere had been the efforts of the European 
 powers for peace, how cautious they had been to 
 avoid any collision, and how reasonable were their 
 requirements that Russia should act with like caution 
 and moderation. He maintained that the affair of 
 Sinope had disappointed their expectations, and had 
 obliged the allied powers to assume a new attitude. 
 They had, therefore, decided that their squadrons 
 should enter the Black Sea, and so operate as to pre- 
 vent the territory or the flag of the Sultan from being, 
 the object of any fresh attack on the part of the naval 
 forces of Russia. The allied squadrons accordingly 
 entered the Black Sea, forming a fleet of fourteen 
 English, twelve French, and five Turkish vessels of 
 
FRANCE AND ENGLAND DECLAEE WAE. 435 
 
 war. On the Danube, new successes were achieved 
 by the Turks. 
 
 On the 29th of January, the Emperor of the French 
 addressed an autograph letter to the Emperor of 
 Russia, going over the same ground which had been 
 reviewed in the note of his minister, and making final 
 propositions of a pacific character. The letter closed 
 by quoting from the Czar's letter of a year previous, 
 his protestation that their relations ought to be sin* 
 cerely amicable, and to repose on the same intentions, 
 the maintenance of order, love of peace, respect for 
 treaties, and reciprocal benevolence ; " that pro- 
 gramme," said Louis Napoleon, " is worthy of the 
 sovereign who traced it, and I do not hesitate to af- 
 firm that I have remained firm to it." This letter 
 was regarded rather as a manifesto to the French 
 nation than as an appeal to the Czar. The Emperor 
 of Kussia replied to it, skillfully defending his own 
 course, and expressing his reliance upon God and on 
 his right in the conflict about to ensue. 
 
 The Legislative body, at its session in March, voted 
 unanimously a bill to authorize a loan of two hundred 
 and fifty millions of francs for the unusual expenses 
 of the approaching war. The whole body waited upon 
 the Emperor to present him with the vote, in order 
 " to render still more striking in the eyes of Europe 
 the testimony it offers to the Emperor of its entire 
 confidence and most resolute concurrence." The for- 
 mal opening of the war was made by a declaration to 
 the Chambers, the 27th of March, that the final resolu- 
 tion of the cabinet of St. Petersburgh had placed Rus- 
 sia in a state of war with respect to France. The 
 
436 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAS. 
 
 Chambers pledged the support of the nation to the 
 government in carrying on the war. On the 10th of 
 April a convention was signed by the representatives 
 of France and England, in which it was agreed that 
 the two nations entered into alliance offensive and 
 defensive for the reestablishment of peace on a dura- 
 ble basis. The contingent of French troops first sent 
 to the east was agreed to be from 50,000 to 100,000 
 men. 
 
 On the 22d of April, a squadron of five English and 
 three French steamers bombarded the town of Odes- 
 sa, on the Black Sea, for several hours, the fire being 
 warmly returned from the Eussian batteries. The 
 Russian vessels in port were burned or sunk, the bat- 
 teries silenced, and the establishments of the .admi- 
 ralty destroyed. 
 
 During the summer a body of some 11,000 French 
 troops was taken on board the English and French 
 fleet for the Baltic, and landed on the 8th of August 
 near the fortress of Bomarsund. This fortress, and 
 with it all the Aland Islands, fell into the hands of the 
 allies, after a regular siege of a few days, on the 16th 
 of the same month. 
 
 On the arrival of the French and English troops in 
 Turkey, they were established for the time in a camp 
 at Varna. Here the cholera broke out during the 
 summer, and committed fearful ravages, especially 
 among the French regiments. 
 
 The Emperor established large camps at home, at 
 St. Omer and Boulogne. At the latter place, in the 
 course of the summer, some 100,000 troops were as- 
 sembled; and here a grand military display took 
 
A STEADFAST BEPUBLIOAK* 437 
 
 place, under the supervision of the Emperor, for the 
 entertainment of Prince Albert of England, the King 
 of Belgium, Pedro, the young King of Portugal, and 
 other distinguished visitors. The troops from these 
 camps were transferred to the east, as the demands 
 of active service required. 
 
 An extract from a letter of Barbes, a republican, 
 who had been in prison since the coup d'etat, was 
 communicated to the Emperor, in which he said he 
 craved victory for the French in the war then going 
 on, and declared that he pitied the republican party 
 if there were any it who did not rejoice in the military 
 glory of France. The Emperor immediately ordered 
 his release from prison, remarking that " a prisoner 
 who preserves, in spite of long sufferings, such patri- 
 otic sentiments, should not in his reign remain in 
 prison." Barbes, instead of being gratified at his re- 
 lease, refused to accept any favor from one he deemed 
 a usurper. Having been forcibly removed from 
 prison, he demanded to be restored ; and this being 
 unheeded, he immediately went to England. 
 
 The military operations toward the close of the 
 summer began to be more important. The allied 
 commanders resolved to change the scene of the 
 war, and instead of joining the Turks on the Dan- 
 ube, to make a sudden effort to capture Sebasto- 
 pol, in the lower part of the peninsula known as the 
 Crimea. This extensive fortress was the pride of 
 Nicholas. Upon it he had for years expended vast 
 sums, in order to render it impregnable by sea or 
 land ; and this it was claimed to be. Within the har- 
 bor his large Black Sea fleet could be sheltered, 
 
438 THE EMPIRE AND THE EUSSIAN' WAB. 
 
 while it added to the defenses of the place ; and hero 
 it was now shut up by the superior fleet of the allies. 
 The camp at Varna, full of dismal remembrances 
 of inaction, disease, and death, was broken up. A 
 fleet of three thousand guns and 25,000 seamen, con- 
 voying over six hundred transport vessels, carried 
 the army across the Black Sea to the shores of the 
 Crimea. It was the greatest expedition of the kind 
 known in the history of war. The landing was ef- 
 fected in the bay of Eupatoria, about fifty miles to 
 the north of Sebastopol, on the 14th of September, 
 1854. No opposition was offered to the landing. 
 The French troops disembarked numbered 23,000, 
 and were under command of Marshal de St. Ar- 
 naud. The English amounted to 27,000, under Lord 
 Raglan. They soon extended themselves into the 
 country, and took up the Jine of march for the south, 
 the French on the right, resting on the sea, the Eng- 
 lish on the left. Moving in this order, the allies 
 came upon the Russians in a strong position behind the 
 river Alma, and close to the coast. The night of the 
 20th was passed a few miles to the north of the Rus- 
 sian army ; and on the morning of the 21st, the uni- 
 ted army of French and English moved forward 
 to make an immediate attempt to force the Russian 
 position. The Russians were posted on the south side 
 of the river, on the slopes and tops of a series of ab- 
 rupt hills. Formidable batteries had been planted 
 in excellent positions, a trench had been dug in front 
 of the most important point, and the Russian army, 
 under the immediate command of Prince Menschi- 
 koff, with a front extending two miles, was prepared 
 
BATTLE OF THE ALMA. 439 
 
 to make an obstinate defense. As the allies had 
 marched, so they attacked — the French on the right 
 against the Eussian left, and the English on the left 
 against the Eussian right. The plan of attack was to 
 outflank the Eussians on each extremity of their 
 line. 
 
 The French were first in the battle, their line hav- 
 ing in the march advanced beyond that of the Eng- 
 lish. Their attack began about half past twelve. 
 The attacking division was commanded by General 
 Bosquet. They quickly crossed the river, and were 
 met by a heavy fire, but in spite of it they climbed 
 the hills, and established themselves on the Eussian 
 left flank. The work was done in true French style. 
 Two divisions, under General Canrobert and Prince 
 Napoleon, soon reinforced them. The artillery was 
 brought to bear, the troops pressed on, supported by 
 the second line, and by two o'clock the battle on this 
 side was won. 
 
 The English had approaehed under greater disad- 
 vantage, being exposed for a long distance to the 
 fire of the Eussian batteries. Their own artillery 
 could reply but ineffectually. About one o'clock the 
 light division, under Sir George Brown, crossed the 
 river by wading, and rushed up the opposite steep, 
 under a most destructive fire. Officers and men fell 
 fast before it. Meanwhile, the second division was 
 hotly engaged against the Eussian center. For a 
 time the terrible fire of the batteries held this divis- 
 ion in check. But they only withdrew to re-form, 
 and then turned upon their assailants — who had is- 
 sued out of the battery — and drove them before them 
 
440 THE EMPIRE AMD THE BUSSIAN WAB. 
 
 over the top of the hill. The light division took the 
 battery against which their attack was directed, but 
 were driven out of it by a large reinforcement of 
 Russian infantry. The first division, comprising the 
 choice troops of the army, then took its place, cover- 
 ing the light division, and allowing it to re-form. 
 Before this new attack, made with genuine British 
 steadiness and valor, the Russians, after warm resist- 
 ance, were compelled to retire, leaving the entire po- 
 sition in the hands of the allies. The Russians left 
 three generals, three guns, 700 prisoners, and 4,000 
 wounded behind them. The loss of the allies was 
 jover 600 killed, and about 2,700 wounded. The 
 British suffered more than the French. Part of the 
 retreating army went into the interior, and part into 
 Sebastopol. 
 
 Marshal St. Arnaud kept his horse during all the 
 day, though in very feeble health. In a few days he 
 resigned his command to General Oanrobert, and died 
 on the voyage home, on the 29th of September. 
 
 The way was now open to Sebastopol. The armies 
 made a detour around the fortress, and posted them- 
 selves on the south of it. Their general position now 
 was this : — The French on the left, nearest the sea, 
 and having easy communication with their vessels ; 
 the English on the right, and of course farther from 
 the sea, being about six miles from Balaklava, to 
 which port their siege train and stores were brought. 
 The- valley running behind the British position, and 
 extending to Balaklava, was defended immediately 
 by some redoubts, in which a few Turkish troops 
 were placed. The Russians under General Liprandi, 
 
BATTUE OF INKEBMAirar. 441 
 
 and 30,000 strong, issuing from the city, took pos- 
 session of the upper end of this valley, and menaced 
 the British rear, and their connection with their sea- 
 port. On the 25th of October, Liprandi attacked 
 in large force, drove the Turks from the redoubts, and 
 advanced down the valley toward Balaklava. The 
 93d regiment, Highlanders, successfully repulsed one 
 division of the Russians, while the British cavalry 
 charged upon and broke up another. An attempt, 
 made by the light cavalry under the Earl of Cardigan 
 to retake the guns which the Russians were carrying 
 off from the redoubts, brought this corps under the 
 full fire of the Russian army, by which it was fear- 
 fully cut up and almost entirely destroyed. The next 
 dayseven or eight thousand Of the enemy sallied out of 
 Sebastopol, and made another attack upon the English 
 right. This was successfully repulsed. In both these 
 actions portions of the French army came to the aid 
 of the English. The losses were heavy on both 
 sides. 
 
 On the 5th of November a still more formidable 
 effort was made by the Russians against the extreme 
 right of the British, the weak point of the whole line, 
 and not as yet properly defended by earth-works and 
 artillery. Large reinforcements had arrived in Sebas- 
 topol. Strong columns under cover of a fog were con- 
 centrated on the British right, and early in the morn- 
 ing began pouring up the slope, bringing with them 
 over ninety pieces of artillery. The British troops 
 hurried to the defense of their assailed position, but 
 were at first repeatedly borne back by overwhelming 
 masses and a withering fire. They held the whole 
 
442 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAK. 
 
 Russian force in check, however, until at length two 
 battalions of French infantry, comprising the famous 
 Zouaves from Algeria, came to the support of their 
 allies, and the Russians were driven back into the 
 valley with immense loss. The enemy far outnum- 
 bered the allied troops engaged, and nothing but the 
 stubborn firmness of the British kept the important 
 position from being forced. In this fierce and bloody 
 action the English had over 400 killed and 1,900 
 wounded; the French over 1,700 killed and wounded. 
 The Russian loss was stated at nearly 3,000 killed and 
 over 5,000 wounded. 
 
 The expedition to the Crimea began now to assume 
 a greater magnitude than those who planned it had 
 imagined. Constant reinforcements were required to 
 make good the losses from these various battles, and 
 to place the assailants in a proportionate superiority 
 to the besieged. The French army at home and 
 abroad had been raised to 580,000 men, and 113,000 
 horses. The navy contained 62,000 sailors. Beside 
 this, a levy of 140,000 men was demanded by the Em- 
 peror. He also demanded a new loan a for these ex- 
 traordinary expenses. These requisitions were made 
 upon the Legislative body, which met on the 26th of 
 December, and was opened by the Emperor in a 
 speech much praised for its eloquence and dignity. 
 His wishes were met. The levy was ordered, and a 
 new loan of five hundred million francs was author- 
 ized and promptly taken. It was said that three 
 times the sum required was offered to the government. 
 In his speech the Emperor said : " Our arms have been 
 victorious in the Baltic and the Black Sea. Two 
 
THE SIEGE. 443 
 
 great battles have shed luster upon our flag. A stri- 
 king testimony has proved the intimacy of our rela- 
 tions with England. The British Parliament has vo- 
 ted thanks to our generals and soldiers. A great 
 empire, reinvigorated by the chivalrous spirit of its 
 sovereign, has separated itself from the power which 
 for forty years has menaced the independence of 
 Europe." 
 
 The proper siege of the great fortress of southern 
 Eussia went on slowly during the autumn of 1854. 
 The labor of bringing the heavy guns and mortars 
 into position on the slopes, commanding the southern 
 and main works of the enemy, was immense. The 
 rains rendered the plateaus and the valleys an expanse 
 of mud. The bleak winds found the troops unprovi- 
 ded with adequate shelter. The mortality among 
 them was excessive and alarming. The French Buf- 
 fered less than the English and the Turks. The mili 
 tary system of the former was more thoroughly and 
 wisely organized, and the troops were more accus- 
 tomed to camp life. 
 
 The siege opened on the 9th of October. The first 
 batteries of the English were established at such a dis- 
 tance that their fire produced very little impression. 
 The French, from the nature of the ground which 
 they occupied, had been able to open their trenches 
 at a much nearer point. The effect of their fire, 
 however, was so slight that the speedy production of 
 a breach through which the place might be assaulted 
 was very improbable. The besieging armies kept 
 making their approaches with great steadiness, gradu- 
 ally bringing their guns nearer to the enemy's works. 
 
444 THE EMPIBE AND THE KUSSIAN WAB. 
 
 The fortress was skillfully, zealously and bravely de- 
 fended. Being invested only upon the southern side, 
 reinforcements of men, ammunition and provisions 
 could be introdviced without interference both by 
 land around the head of the bay, and by water from 
 the north side of the harbor. The immense arsenals, 
 and the ships of war, now lying useless in the harbor, 
 supplied the guns to replace those disabled or to be 
 mounted upon the new defenses constantly construct- 
 ed. Frequent sorties were made by the garrison, 
 directed chiefly against the French positions. The 
 Russians, as would naturally be the case, suffered 
 more in these attacks than their assailants did. The 
 entire winter, however, was consumed without mak- 
 ing any important progress toward the reduction of 
 the formidable fortress. The Russians in some por- 
 tions of their line of defense contracted their works ; 
 in other places they boldly pushed them out so as se- 
 riously to check the operations of the besiegers, and 
 even to threaten their positions. A young engineei 
 officer of remarkable energy and genius, Todleben, 
 had been appointed to the task of superintending the 
 defensive works. And to his superior talent, and the 
 enthusiasm with which he inspired the army, must be 
 ascribed in a great degree the long and admirable 
 defense of the place against the mighty engines of 
 warfare which the allies were able to bring against 
 it. He originated and carried out a system of earth- 
 works, in some places exterior to and in others within 
 the original defenses. When the original masonry 
 towers and redoubts were knocked to pieces by the 
 
THE SIBSE — DEATH OF NICHOLAS. 445 
 
 storm of large shot from the monstrous batteries of the 
 allies, these works rose as by magic in their stead. 
 
 Throughout the winter the troops suffered exceed- 
 ingly in their bleak position on the hills. This was 
 especially the case with the English soldiers ; for the 
 army system of that government, in the midst of the 
 crisis, proved cumbrous, and totally insufficient for the 
 demands made upon it. Through the fault of officials 
 the army dwindled away fearfully, and its very spirit 
 was seriously menaced. Thus passed the gloomy and 
 fatal winter. With spring came hope and life. Fresh 
 troops from France and England, with a contingent 
 of 15,000 from Sardinia, who had joined the alliance, 
 and a more complete and formidable siege train, 
 qualified the allies for a more vigorous assault upon 
 the fortress which had so long defied them. 
 
 In the spring efforts were made for a settlement of 
 the great controversy, by a conference of the powers 
 at Yienna ; but after several sessions the ambassadors 
 separated without coming to any amicable terms. On 
 the 2d of March, 1855, Nicholas, Emperor of Russia, 
 died at St. Petersburgh, in the fifty-ninth year of his 
 age. He was quietly succeeded by his eldest son, 
 Alexander, who was born in 1818. The new Czar 
 acquiesced in the policy of his father, and proceeded 
 to carry out the projects already inaugurated. There 
 was not even a temporary cessation of the war. 
 
 In the month of April, the national alliance was 
 signalized by a visit of the Emperor and Empress of 
 France to England. They crossed the channel on 
 the 16th, and were the guests of the Queen, at "Wind- 
 sor Castle until the 21st. The imperial visitors were 
 
446 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAR. 
 
 received with great enthusiasm in London. In pass- 
 ing through the streets, the Emperor was observed 
 to point out to his wife the house he had occupied as 
 a private man and an exile. The city authorities gave 
 them a public reception in the Guildhall. In reply 
 to a complimentary address from the Eecorder, Na- 
 poleon observed in part as follows: "England and 
 France are naturally united on all the great questions 
 of politics and of human progress that agitate the 
 world. From the shores of the Atlantic to those of 
 the Mediterranean — from the Baltic to the Black Sea 
 — from the desire to abolish slavery, to our hopes for 
 the amelioration of all the countries of Europe, I see 
 in the moral as in the political world, for our two na- 
 tions, but one course and one end. It is, then, only by 
 unworthy considerations and pitiful rivalries that our 
 union could be dissevered. If we follow the dictates 
 of common sense alone, we shall be sure of the future. 
 You are right in interpreting my presence among you 
 as a fresh and convincing proof of my energetic co- 
 operation in the prosecution of the war, if we fail in 
 obtaining an honorable peace. Should we so fail, al- 
 though our difficulties may be great, we may surely 
 count on a successful result ; for not only are our 
 soldiers and sailors of tried valor — not only do our two 
 countries possess within themselves unrivaled re- 
 sources, but above all — and here lies their supe- 
 riority — they are in the van of all generous and 
 enlightened ideas. The eyes of all who suffer in- 
 stinctively turn to the west. Thus our two nations 
 are even more powerful from the opinions they rep- 
 resent than by the armies and fleetB they have at 
 
ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION. 447 
 
 their command." The Queen of England also during 
 this visit invested the Emperor with the royal order 
 of the Garter. The return of the imperial pair to 
 Paris was welcomed by an enthusiastic popular de- 
 monstration. The French might well regard this 
 visit to England as one of the most signal triumphs of 
 Louis Napoleon. 
 
 Shortly after this gratification to his pride and am- 
 bition, the Emperor was again reminded of the un- 
 certainty of his power and the constant exposure of 
 his life. On the evening of the 28th of April, he left 
 the palace in plain clothes, and accompanied by two 
 of his household officers, to take his usual ride in the 
 Champs Elysees. Near the Barriere de l'Etoile, a 
 well-dressed man on the side-walk fired with a pistol 
 twice, the second ball grazing His Majesty's hat. The 
 assassin was an Italian, named Pianori, and according 
 to his own statement, he acted from personal revenge, 
 having, it was said, served in the Roman Kepublican 
 army, which the French troops had destroyed. He 
 died on the scaffold, making no confession to impli- 
 cate any other person or party, and with the expres- 
 sion on his lips, " long live the Republic." 
 
 The French Exposition or Palace of Industry, af- 
 ter the fashion of the celebrated Crystal Palace of 
 Hyde Park, London, was opened formally on the 15th 
 of May, by the Emperor and Empress. As a whole, 
 this Exhibition was very far from equaling its fa- 
 mous prototype in the British capital. 
 
 A change in the office for Foreign Affairs took 
 place about this time. M. Drouyn de Lhuys resigned, 
 on the ground, it was supposed, of a difference of 
 
448 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAR. 
 
 views from the Emperor as to the policy of peace. 
 Count Walewski, a natural son of Napoleon I., and 
 for some years Ambassador to the Court of St. James, 
 was appointed in his place. 
 
 To return to the Crimea and the history of the war. 
 A siege train had been placed in position, near to the 
 Russian works, such as had never before been collect- 
 ed in the world. Five hundred pieces of artillery 
 opened the terrible bombardment on the 9th of April, 
 and continued it incessantly till the 28th, then ceas- 
 ing for want of ammunition. Thousands of tons of 
 iron were hurled against the devoted but obstinate 
 stronghold. The Russian commander in his dispatch 
 to his Emperor, well termed it " an infernal fire." 
 And yet no decided result was effected. The soft 
 earth-works received the heaviest shot and shell with 
 but slight damage. Before the next morning the in- 
 defatigable Russians repaired the injuries of each 
 day's fire. During the nights also the trenches were 
 the scene of fierce and bloody encounters. Pits in 
 which riflemen were concealed, were dug by the Rus- 
 sians outside of their works, and in places whence an 
 annoying and destructive fire could be kept up on 
 the advance works of the allies. For these rifle-pits 
 the struggles were furious. Yet slowly and steadily 
 the allies pushed their works nearer to those of the 
 enemy, until in some places the cannons were nearly 
 mouth to mouth. 
 
 Some changes had taken place in the arrangements 
 of -the line of attack. The English remained in about 
 the same relative position, though nearer Sebastopol. 
 The French still maintained their close attack on the 
 
CAPTUEE OF YARIOUS PLACES. 449 
 
 extreme left ; but as their army had been largely in- 
 creased, a new series of approaches had been made on 
 the right of the English, thus extending the line 
 farther than at first in that direction. The Sardinians 
 had also been posted on the extreme right. General 
 Canrobert had resigned the command of the French 
 forces, on account of his shattered health, and General 
 Pelissier had been appointed commander-in-chief. 
 This appointment was a popular one, and was regard- 
 ed as an indication that the siege would be pushed 
 with more energy. 
 
 In the month of June a detachment of the allied 
 armies, under command of Sir George Brown, em- 
 barked and sailed toward the sea of Azoff. This force 
 took possession of the towns of Kertch and Yenikale, 
 the Eussians retiring without resistance. Kertch was 
 an important capture, as it contained a large amount 
 of ammunition, and a foundry where shot and shell 
 were made for the supply of Sebastopol. The al- 
 lies also thus gained command of the Sea of Azoff, 
 and closed this channel for the furnishing of supplies 
 tolhe beleaguered fortress. In the vicinity of Sebas- 
 topol, also, the allies extended their line farther inland. 
 
 General Pelissier, in order to meet the expectations 
 formed regarding his activity and energy, planned 
 and directed several assaults upon Sebastopol. One 
 was executed on the 7th of June, after a twenty hours' 
 cannonade. It was directed principally against a 
 work, called the Mamelon, whicli had been erected 
 since the siege began, for the protection of a more im 
 portant work, the Malakoff, which was regarded and 
 proved to be the key to Sebastopol. The French and 
 
 29 
 
4:50 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAR. 
 
 British moved in parallel columns, and after a severe 
 engagement drove the Russians out of the Mamelon 
 and the Bound- Tower, and retained possession. 
 
 On the 18th of June, the assault was renewed — the 
 French holding the Mamelon, and from it attacking 
 the Malakoff — the British assailing the Redan, a work 
 lying to the right of the Malakoff, and forming, in 
 fact, an outwork of it. The Malakoff, it must be ob- 
 served, lay to the right of the British, and in front of 
 that part of the French army which now formed the 
 right of the general line of attack. Three heavy col- 
 umns of French infantry marched upon this formida- 
 ble battery — a fortress in itself. They were all beaten 
 back with dreadful slaughter. Neither did the Eng- 
 lish attack upon the Redan operate as an effectual 
 diversion in favor of the French main assault, as was 
 hoped. The loss to the allies was very severe. The 
 French, however, vigorously pushed their trenches 
 still nearer to the Malakoff, in preparation for another 
 assault. 
 
 Lord Raglan died on the 28th of June, after a few 
 days' illness. General Simpson succeeded him in 
 the chief command of the British forces. 
 
 The Legislative Assembly of France met on the 2d 
 of July. Bills were readily passed, authorizing anoth- 
 er war loan of seven hundred and fifty million of 
 francs, and a levy of 140,000 men for the army. 
 
 A visit of the Queen of England to Paris was made 
 in the month of August. She left London on the 18th, 
 and reached Paris the same day. The Emperor re- 
 ceived her in person at Boulogne. The Queen was 
 welcomed with great cordiality and enthusiasm by 
 
BATTLE OF TOHEKNAYA. 451 
 
 the French, and a great variety of public displays 
 was made for her amusement. 
 
 Toward the close of the summer of 1855, the great 
 contending powers in the Crimea were maneuvering 
 for a final desperate struggle. The Russians found 
 the lines of the besiegers drawn more and more closely 
 around them. They made one more great effort to 
 break up the siege by an attack upon the more ex- 
 posed right flank of their foes, which had been extend- 
 ed to the vicinity of the river Tchernaya. The at- 
 tack was directed by Prince Gortschakoff in person, 
 who brought to the charge over 50,000 men, with one 
 hundred and sixty pieces of artillery and 6,000 cavalry. 
 This host was met by 30,000 French and Sardinians 
 together. The battle was fought on the 16th of Au- 
 gust, and lasted several hours, during which the Rus- 
 sians repeatedly sought with desperate bravery to force 
 the allies from their position. They were repulsed, 
 with a loss estimated at 5,000 ; while the allies did 
 not lose half that number. 
 
 The Russians now began to prepare for the evacu- 
 ation of Sebastopol. They constructed a floating 
 bridge to the north side of the harbor, over which 
 they removed great quantities of munitions and sup- 
 plies. The allies, meanwhile, arranged for another 
 assault upon the Malakoff. The French lines were 
 close to it. An active bombardment throughout thf^ 
 whole long line was kept up from the 5th of Septem- 
 ber to the 8th. At noon precisely on the 8th, the 
 French assaulting columns, to the amount of 30,000 
 men, began pouring out of the trenches, and rushing 
 toward the Malakoff with the greatest impetuosity. 
 
452 THE EMPIRE AND THE ETTSSIAN WAE. 
 
 The intervening space was quickly cleared, and then 
 in close quarters within the formidable work itself, 
 the struggle went on. The French reinforcements 
 crowded on to the aid of their companions, while from 
 the other side of the Malakoff, the Russian troops 
 poured up in great masses to the defense. The fight 
 for an hour was furious, and then the Russians gave 
 way and abandoned the work. The French also took 
 what was termed the Little Redan, but they were ex- 
 posed to so severe a fire in it, that they withdrew. 
 Batteries were planted, which poured a storm of shot 
 and shell down upon the Russian ships of war in the 
 harbor, setting fire to several of them. 
 
 Meanwhile, the British attack upon the Great Re- 
 dan had been going on. The distance between their 
 trenches and this work was considerable. The as- 
 saulting column was consequently exposed to a de- 
 structive fire immediately on leaving their own cover. 
 Many men and officers fell before this space was 
 crossed. The assailants, however, effected a lodg- 
 ment in an angle of the work, where for a long time 
 they resisted the efforts of a large body of Russians 
 to drive them out, and waited in vain for reinforce- 
 ments. The enemy, driven by the French from the 
 Malakoff, pressed in overwhelming numbers upon the 
 British in the Redan, and finally compelled them to 
 withdraw. The attack on this point was a failure ; 
 and nowhere else along the line was any serious ef- 
 fort made, as it was plain that the Malakoff was the 
 key to the fortress. 
 
 This final assault cost the allies about ten thousand 
 men in killed and wounded. During the night fol- 
 
PALL OF SEBASTOPOL. 453 
 
 lowing the fall of the Malakoff, the Eussians exploded 
 mines under various fortifications, and withdrew their 
 entire army to the north side of the harbor. The al- 
 lies were slow to penetrate into the city, fearing the 
 explosion of mines made by the enemy. Gradually, 
 however, they took possession of the various parts of 
 the stronghold, for which they had so long contended. 
 Immense stores of cannon, powder, shot, and all ma- 
 terials for war, were found in Sebastopol. The Eus- 
 aan commander admitted the loss of from 500 to 1,000 
 men a day during the last month of the siege. The 
 allies promptly planted batteries, and opened a fire 
 upon the north side of the harbor, while the enemy 
 went regularly to work to strengthen the forts on that 
 side by exterior earth-works, showing readiness to 
 endure another siege. The allies also entered upon 
 the work of destroying the magnificent docks, arse- 
 nals, and various establishments which had been ne- 
 cessary to make Sebastopol a great naval depot. The 
 Eussians had in the outset sunk enough of their large 
 ships of war across the mouth of the harbor to make 
 the entrance impracticable. The remainder had been 
 ourned and sunk when they evacuated the city. 
 
 An expedition, consisting of 15,000 French and 
 4,000 British troops, was embarked at Balaklava, and 
 on the 15th' of October successfully bombarded the 
 fortress of Kinburn, the garrison of 1,500 men surren- 
 dering as prisoners of war. This movement was 
 made in order to open the way to an attack upon cer- 
 tain important interior towns. 
 
 The approach of winter put a stop to operations by 
 sea or land. The Eussians made one more field at- 
 
454 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAR. 
 
 tack upon the allies ; but few were engaged in it, the 
 losses were small, and the results nothing. They 
 kept up a heavy cannonade upon the south side of 
 the harbor, to which the allies made little reply. 
 Both parties tacitly agreed to wait for more genial 
 weather for active operations, or to see what might 
 be the issue of the rumors of peace. 
 
 On the 11th of January, a grand council of war, 
 presided over by the French Emperor, and composed 
 of the prominent military men of the allies, met in 
 Paris, to enlighten the governments upon the state, 
 the exigencies, and the issues of the war. During the 
 winter Sweden also joined the allies. A portion of 
 the French troops returned from the Crimea was 
 warmly received in Paris, and the Emperor addressed 
 them as follows : " I have recalled you, though the 
 war be not terminated, because it is only just to re- 
 lieve in their turn the regiments which have suffered 
 most. Each will thus be able to take his share in 
 glory, and the country, which maintains 600,000 
 soldiers, has an interest in maintaining in France a 
 numerous and experienced army, ready to march 
 wheresoever necessity may require. Preserve, then, 
 carefully the habits of war, and fortify yourselves in 
 the experience you have already acquired." 
 
 While the armies in the Crimea were rendered in- 
 active by the winter, Austria, with the consent of 
 France and England, again made certain propositions 
 to Eussia ; which propositions were deemed the ulti- 
 matum of the allies. The Czar accepted these propo- 
 sitions, "as the basis of negotiations." In the latter 
 past of February, the plenipotentiaries of France, 
 
TEE ATT OF PEACE. 455 
 
 England, Austria, Eussia, Sardinia and Turkey, as- 
 sembled in Paris, and on the 30th of March, 1856, the 
 treaty of peace was signed. It was subsequently 
 ratified by all the governments. It consisted of 
 thirty-four articles, embracing the following impor- 
 tant points: All territories occupied during the war 
 were restored. Turkey was admitted to the political 
 system of Europe, and her indepencence was guaran- 
 teed; the Black Sea was neutralized, and ships of 
 war of all nations forbidden to enter it, with certain 
 unimportant exceptions, trade in it also being free ; 
 Turkey and Russia agreed to maintain no military 
 maritime arsenals on the coast of the Black Sea ; the 
 Sultan conceded the equal rights of all Christians in 
 his dominions. The treaty gave great satisfaction in 
 France. The Czar also claimed that he had obtained 
 all he had sought; though his satisfaction can hardly 
 be understood, when it is remembered that his entire 
 naval power in the Black Sea was destroyed, and he 
 was prohibited from ever reestablishing it. In Eng- 
 land the peace did not give so great satisfaction among 
 all classes ; there was a general feeling that the mili- 
 tary honor and glory of Britain had been damaged by 
 the war, and that the political importance of the ad- 
 ministration had been made subordinate to the am- 
 bition and influence of the French Emperor. The 
 war undoubtedly added not only to the glory of the 
 French arms, but to the importance of Louis Napo- 
 leon in the political affairs of Europe. His power was 
 greatly augmented by this struggle with the Colossus 
 of the North. By his policy France was placed for th e 
 time at the head of European nations. His throne 
 
456 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAR. 
 
 was strengthened, and the forces of opposition within 
 and without the nation were weakened and scattered. 
 
 France sent in all to the Crimea during this war 
 ahout 200,000 men, of whom it was estimated that 
 60,000 were lost, including those killed and wounded in 
 battle, or who died or were disabled by disease. Eng- 
 land lost in similar ways about 22,000 ; while Count 
 Orloff, the Russian Plenipotentiary, is said to have ad- 
 mitted in Paris that the loss on the part of Russia 
 was about 500,000 men. 
 
 The hopes of the Emperor of France, and of those 
 desiring the continuance of his dynasty, were greatly 
 gratified by the birth of a son on the 14th of March, 
 during the sessions of the peace congress in Paris. 
 The circumstances of this event were all arranged 
 with that particularity and pomp which pertain by 
 custom to such important affairs in reigning families. 
 Paris was made gay with the rejoicings and displays 
 of the occasion. The name given to the heir of the 
 throne was Napoleon-Louis-Eugene- Jean- Joseph. As 
 the heir of the first Napoleon was entitled King of 
 Pome, so this child received the title of King of 
 Algeria. 
 
 The Emperor, rendered good-humored and clement 
 by so promising an event, offered an amnesty to all 
 political exiles who would return and take the oath 
 of allegiance. 
 
 Louis Napoleon began his political career as Presi- 
 dent amid the scoffs of Europe ; but at the close of 
 the great struggle with Russia, it must be admitted 
 that his influence in public affairs is not only weighty 
 but predominant. His foreign movements have been 
 
CHARA.CTEB AND RULE. 457 
 
 wisely planned and skillfully carried out. The evi- 
 dence of his ability as a ruler has been augmenting 
 steadily throughout his public life. He rules, and 
 does not simply reign. His hand is, therefore, seen 
 everywhere in the home and foreign policy of the 
 government. His capacity, foresight, self-possession, 
 and boldness are conspicuous in his acts. He is an 
 able ruler ; but he rules with a rod of iron. He has 
 shown himself unscrupulous in the use of means to 
 rise to power. He is despotic in the use of power. 
 He keeps France quiet, and allows and encourages 
 the development of the resources of the nation. For 
 this he deserves credit. But he has trampled upon 
 the public liberties, and he concedes only such pub- 
 lic rights as he deems consistent with his own designs 
 for establishing the Napoleon dynasty. In all this 
 assumption of power he has assumed a great respon- 
 sibility, to which history will hold him ; and to his- 
 tory must be left the full and impartial verdict upon 
 his remarkable career as a public man. 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE, 
 
 Emptor of Jrann* 
 
 BY J. G. LOOKHART. 
 With Steel Portrait, 392 pp. U'nio.. muslin. Price 81 25. 
 
 "The lightning may flash and the loud thunder ratttej 
 He heeds not, he hears not, he's free from all pain ; 
 
 He has slept his last sleep, he has fought his last battle, 
 No sound can awake him to glory again." 
 
 He was the greatest actor the world has known since the time 
 of Caesar. He sported with crowns and sceptres as the baubles of a 
 child. He rode triumphantly to power over the ruins of the thrones 
 with whieh he strewed his pathway. Vast armies melted away like 
 wax before him. He moved over the earth as a meteor traverses the 
 sky, astonishing and startling all by the suddenness and brilliancy of 
 his career. Here was his greatness. The earth will feel his power 
 till its last cycle shall have been run. 
 
 THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE, 
 
 Jirst Mitt at ftaphfliL 
 
 BY P. O. HEADLEY. 
 
 With Steel Portrait, 383 pp., 12mo., Muslin. Price 81 25. 
 
 "Like the lily, 
 That onee was mistress of the field and flowers here, 
 I'll hang my bead and perish." 
 
 Josephine, for the times in which she lived, was a model of 
 female character ; and if this volume shall make the study of it more 
 general, it will so far extend the admiration of the pure and beautiful, 
 in contrast with all the forms of corruption humanity could present iu 
 a period of bloody Revolution. The Empress was a greater personage 
 than Napoleon in the elements of moral grandeur, and retained her 
 sovereignty in the hearts of the people, while he ruled by the unri- 
 valed splendor of his genius. 
 
LIFE OF 
 
 MAET, QUEEN OF SCOTS. 
 
 BY P. C. HEADLEY, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 'JOSEPHINE,' * KOSSUTH,' '"WOMEN OF THE BIBLE,' ETa 
 
 ♦ 
 
 Portrait on Steel, Muslin, 448 pj. 12mo. Price $1,25. 
 
 " "What brighter form could meet thy raviah'd sight 1 
 Or fill thy bosom with its pure delight? 
 On her fair brow a regal grace Bhe wears, 
 While Youth's own luster on her cheek appears." 
 
 OPINIONS OF REVIEWERS. 
 
 The universal Interest that has always been felt in the romantic and tragical career of 
 this unfortunate and beautiful queen, will render this biography one of living interest— 
 Olive Branch. 
 
 The salo of three editions of this work attests its popularity. — N. Y. Timet* 
 
 The style In which the present volume rehearses the story, will secure for it an extensive 
 circulation.— N Y. Organ, 
 
 It is a full and corrected history of this remarkable personage.— N. T. Evangelist. 
 
 Our author throws a chain around his subject that will Insure for it a success equal to 
 the "Josephine." — Newport Mercwy, 
 
 It is an affecting story, howover told, and It is probably as near historic accuracy as 
 taiy other life of the beautiful Scotch Queen that we have. — Lutlieran. Observer. 
 
 We commend this work to our readers who are inclined to tb« study of history in 
 biography, of the most interesting character. — Wesleycm, Syracuse 
 
 An old theme, but handled with the masterly style which characterizes everything 
 Hbadley attempts. — Ohio Statesman, 
 
 This is a fine library volume, and the universal interest felt In the fate of the ro- 
 mantic and tragical career of Mary Stuart, will, no doubt, cause this American version of 
 her life to be sought for.— Dollar Newspaper. 
 
 Mr. Headley has performed his task faithfully and well — Ravenna Star. 
 
 We think the author has d<*.ie full justice to his heroine, and has taken a more correct 
 view of Mary as a woman, and as a Queen, than we have seen elsewhere. — Lowell Christ 
 ian Era. 
 
 The value of tho work is enhanced by the light it throws upon the history of some of 
 the most important kingdoms of Europe. — Dimdee Record. 
 
 All historical and biographical readers will find it an acceptable volume. — Yates Whig. 
 
 The life of the lovely, unhappy and unfortunate Queen of Scotland is in this volume 
 'ialineated with rare faithfulness. — Racine Advocate. 
 1$ The work is full of exciting interest, and its influence is good on the young. — Galena Adv m 
 
 This account of her life and character seems well adapted to popular use. — New 
 England Farmer. * 
 
 The publishers have done well in bringing ont this work at this time, when there is 
 erjing need that the corruptions of political conduct be warned, by the strongest testi- 
 inonj, that retributive justice will not forever sleep. — Home Jowniah 
 
 MILLER, ORTON & MULLIGAN, Publishers, 
 25 Park Bow, New York, and 107 Geuesee-st., Auburn. 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 JOAN OF ARC, 
 
 %\t Ititilr of (Means. 
 
 BY D. W. BARTTL.ETT, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "LADY JANE GREY," "WHAT I SAW IN LONDON," ETC. 
 
 Steel Portrait, 221 pp. 16m©., Muslin. Price 75 Cents. 
 
 "We here present a popular life of the world-renowned Maid of Or- 
 leans — the great military "Heroine of History." Her peculiar story 
 cannot fail to attract lively attention, and be read with the deepest 
 interest. 
 
 Notices of tSie Press— Brief Extracts. 
 
 It Is written and compiled in Barfclett's peculiar and popular style, and te a plain and 
 authentic history of the 1 Ife of the heroine of France. — CoTMiecMeut Union. 
 
 The view winch the present biographer takes of her, shows her in a most attractive 
 light, and the volume is eminently interesting throughout — Syracuse Eve. ClwonicLe. 
 
 It possesses all the attraction of a romance, while it is a veritable and well authen- 
 ticated history. — Christian Ambassador, 
 
 This volume will be read with interest and profit The story of Joan of Aro can 
 never ho truthfully told without interest— J/w&iwti Daily Advertiser. 
 
 Mr. Bartlott, though still a young man, has already signalized himself m the line of 
 authorship. Ilis style is easy and graceful, and he never attempts to gild the qualities 
 of his heroes at the expense of truth — Christian Secretary. 
 
 The life and adventures of the greatest heroine of history aro graphically written.— 
 Syracuse Repub. 
 
 Every thing relating to Joan of Arc is of interest, and Mr. BartJett has furnished a boot 
 which will be eagerly sought for, and which will prove a rare treat to 'Jie reader. — Cayu- 
 ga Chief 
 
 It contains an admirably written history of the French heroine, the facts having been 
 caicfully collated from numerous authorities. — Dodge's Literary Museum. 
 
 The history before us is one of thrilling interest; and so much so that we could not 
 lay aside the book, until we had read it through.— Religious Herald, Hertford, Ct. 
 
 "We thank our neighbor Bartlett for having given so good a book to the reading public 
 It will be useful as well as entertaining.— Hartford Courant, 
 
 MILLER, ORTON & MULLIGAN, Publishers. 
 
 25 Park Row, New York, and 107 Genesee-st., Aubuiu- 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 LADY JANE GREY. 
 
 BY D. W. BARTLETT. 
 In One Volume, 298 pp. 16mo. Price 75 Cents. 
 
 Few ■women have ever lived whose unfortunate history 
 
 has more deeply enlisted the sympathies of the world than that of 
 Lady Jane Grey. The beauty of her person, the activity of her mind, 
 the sweetness of her temper, and the purity of her character, were 
 alike subjects of universal praise. That one so brilliant, so lovely, and 
 so pure, should have fallen by the ax of the executioner, excites, even 
 at this day, in all readers, a thrill of horror. Her history is peculiarly 
 interesting, and embodies the story of one of the most charming hero- 
 ines of history. 
 
 Her melancholy fate will ever constitute one of the most 
 
 striking illustrations of the cruelty, the madness and folly of religious 
 bigotry and persecution, and of the recklessness of unscrupulous politi- 
 cal ambition. 
 
 WHAT REVIEWERS SAY. 
 
 A work which will be eagerly sought, for toe reader has in this volume one of the 
 most interesting portions of English history. — Cayuga Chief. 
 A judicious biography of one of the most charming heroines of history. — XTew Yorh 
 
 This is a charming book. We have read it with the most thrilling interest — Eeligioua 
 Herald. 
 
 Mr. Bartlett always writes well, and be sustains his high reputation in this work, which 
 is well set off by the publishers. — Boston Olvoe Branch. 
 
 A very readable book. — Hartford Courant. 
 
 We could wish that this volume might find a place in every young lady's library, to 
 the displacement of some of the pernicious novels of the day. — Albany Co-wrier. 
 
 Very well Written, and certainly worthy of becoming widely known. — Artlwr's Horn* 
 Gazette. 
 
 His chapters and sentences are symmetrically constructed, while Lis ready perception 
 appropriates all the points of interest in his subject, and rejects that which is irrelevant 
 or not authentic. — Hartford Times. 
 
 An easy, graceful writer, he seldom fails to add interest to the subject on which he 
 writes — Christian Secretary. 
 
 MILLER, ORTOH & MULLIGAN, Publishers, 
 25 Park Kow, New Yoke, and 101 Genesee-st., Auburn. 
 
THE NORTHERN SEMIRAMIS! 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE AND REIGN 
 
 OF 
 
 CATHERINE THE SECOND, 
 
 <&mpm of %ussm ; 
 
 WITH HER SUCCESSORS. 
 
 COMPRISING INCIDENTS IN RUSSIAN HISTORY TO THE FALL OF SEVASTOPOL. 
 
 BY SAMUEL M.SMUCKER, A. M. 
 One Volume, 338 pp. 12 mo., Steel Portrait. Price $1 00. 
 
 OPINIONS OF REVIEWERS. 
 
 rhls is decidedly a well written work. It is of great value at this time, when the 
 public are bo much interested in all that pertains to Russian history.— Saturday Eve- 
 ning Mail. 
 
 Catharine II., great-grandmother of the present Emperor of Russia, inaugurated the 
 system of national policy which England and France are now seeking to foil. "With 
 many grave and important faults of character, she was, nevertheless, wise, fearless, and 
 politic. Her policy has guided the fate of the empire since her death, andis now settling 
 the condition of Europe, perhaps for centuries. The life under notice is a full and able 
 oiie, and will be read with general and intense interest — Detroit Advertiser. 
 
 An impartial review of one of the most exciting periods in the history of the Roma- 
 noff dynasty. — Philadelplda Dispatch^ 
 
 £• We know of nothing that reads so like a .better class romance, as that part of Russian 
 history which includes the story of Catharine II. ; a story well and comprehensively 
 told in the present volume. All books relating to Kussia are read with great interest 
 The present is among the best of those books recently published. — IT. T. Criterion. 
 
 This work fills a vacant niche In the gallery of history, there being no other work of a 
 popular character in the language, devoted to the history and delineation of this extra- 
 ordinary character. Catherine II. of Russia was in many respects the most remark- 
 able woman of any age or country. She has been not inaptly styled the Semiramis 
 of the North. Her career and reign abounded in thrilling incidents and important 
 events, which deserve .a careful and truthful record. It is a useful and interesting book. — 
 Troy Times, 
 
 Wielding a pleasant pen, the author has aimed at such an exposition of Catherine's 
 political projects and designs as to give a very satisfactory view oi Russia, during this 
 era, especially in her aggressive and ambitiousphases. It is an instructive, and of course 
 an entertaining work.— JT. Y. Evangelist, 
 
 The history of so remarkable a woman as Catherine II. of Russia, whose force of mind 
 and plan of execution are even now, in the persons of her descendants, exerting a vast 
 influence on the progress of events, could not be dull or uninteresting. But In the vol- 
 ume before us we are not only placed in possession of all those historical facts necessary 
 to 4 correct understanding of her personal character and the events -of her long reign, but 
 the narrative is characterized by a genial enthusiasm for the subject, and more than or- 
 dinary polish and dignity of style. There are details in the life of the great empress- 
 great alike for her intellect and licentiousness— which need cautious and delicate nar- 
 ration, and we are happy to observe in this work that while the rigid demands of his- 
 torical accuracy r are adhered to, there is nothing to gratify a prurient t&ste.—Detroit 
 Demoorat and Enquirer. 
 
 The history of her life and reign Is replete with striking incidents, novel adventures 
 and remarkable displays of talent, heroism, and passion. And yet we have never met 
 with a work save the one under consideration, that furnishes any satisfactory account 
 «f her eventful career.— Geneva Courier. 
 
 MILLER, ORTON & MULLIGAN, Publishers, 
 25 Park Row, New Yoke, and 107 Genesee-st., Auburn. 
 
THE WIFE SLAYER, AND HIS VICTIMS ! 
 
 HEIR! II. A! 1 SIX WIVES, 
 
 A New and Interesting Work by H. W. Herbert. 
 
 Anne of Cleves, 
 
 Married, 1540; Repudiated, 1540. 
 
 Katherine Howard, 
 
 Married, 1540; Beheaded, 1541. 
 
 Katherine Parr, 
 
 Married, 1543; Died, 1548. 
 
 COMPRISING BIOGRAPHIES OF 
 
 Henry the Eighth of England 
 
 Katherine of Arragon, 
 
 Married 1509 ; Repudiated, 1533, 
 
 Anne Boleyn, 
 
 Married, 1533; Beheaded, 1536. 
 
 Jane Seymour, 
 
 Married, 1536 ; Died, 1537. 
 
 Portraits of Henry VHT. and each of his "Wives, 441 pp, 12mo., Price $1 25. 
 
 * 
 
 NOTICES OF THE PRESS, 
 
 This a lively and highly entertaining historical Darrative of the reign of one of the 
 roost marked of all the British sovereigns. — Detroit Inquirer. , 
 
 Grand, gloomy, tender, picturesque, excitiDg, sad. and true to fact, as well as true to 
 Human nature. — Swnday Courier. 
 
 The life and times of Henry VIII. are snbjects of more interest and importance, not 
 only to the people of England, but to all men everywhere, than perhaps any other por- 
 tion of British history. — People's Organ. 
 
 A happy medium betwixt the stately dignity of history, and the extravagance of ro- 
 mance. Strict historic truth is gilded with the'graces of fancy. — Detroit Free Frees. 
 
 Mr. Herbert is a novelist of the historic school. ' He has here a subject better than fic- 
 tion ; for no romancer ever conceived such a character and destiny as that of the young 
 and chivalrous Prince of England, turned Caliph, and accomplishing a religious revolu- 
 tion, and raising himself to the supreme ecclesiastical authority, in the midst of a life of 
 cruelty. Inst, and rapine, that has no parallel in civilized history.— Albany Atlas. 
 
 Mr. Herbert has scarcely a superior as a historian. He is thorough and searching, dis- 
 playing, at every point, a deep study of his subject, and a strict regard for truth and 
 justice"; while his style is such as to render his histories attractive to the popular class 
 of readers. We believe that one of the best gifts a historian can possess, is to be able to 
 interest the popular mind, without descending from the true standard of literary excel- 
 lence. In this respect Mr. Herbert is remarkably fortunate. — Christian Freeman. 
 
 This is really one of the most valuable works which has been issued from the press for 
 a twel vemonth. It is written in a good-natured, flction-Iike style, and yet all the histor- 
 ical facts are carefully preserved. — Boston Dispatch. 
 
 This work is produced in superior style; the engravings of Henry and his Six Wives 
 are in the best style of art. The highest praise that we can offer to the author of this 
 work, is to say that Mr. Herbert has excelled himself; the style and manner should se- 
 cure it great popularity, and it is evident that the author has spared no pains in his re- 
 searches, to make the work a truthful and reliable one. We cordially recommend its pe- 
 rusal to the reading public. — Saturday Eventing Mail. 
 
 Scott has thrown around few of his female characters so much charm as Herbert in- 
 vests the "Six Wives" of the "most uxorious of husbands." — IT, T. DoMy Hews. 
 
 This is no fiction. It is simply history of a peculiar and interesting period, compiled 
 from the best authorities ; and to all students of English history, and especially to all 
 lovers of- history who have not the leisure nor the opportunity to do more than read on* 
 m more histories, the present volume will be of peculiar interest. — Sunday Dispatch, 
 
 MILLER, ORTON & MULLIGAN, Publishers, 
 25 Park Row, New York, and 10"? Genesee-st, Auburn. 
 
0pular §i0grai|ies. 
 
 LIVES OF HENRY VLTX AND HIS SEC WIVES, 
 
 By H. W. Heebert, 7 portraits, 441 pp. 12mo., . . . . Jl 8» 
 
 LITE OF HENRY CLAY, 
 
 By Horace Greeley and Epes Sabgeant, steel portrait, 428 pp. 12mo., . 1 25 
 XJFE AND SPEECHES OF HENKY CLAY, being the above, to which is added 
 
 his most able and popular Speeches, steel portrait, 633 pp. 8vo., . 2 00 
 WEBSTER ABB HIS MASTER-PIECES, 
 
 By B. F. Tefft, D. D., LL. D., steel portrait, 2 vols., 1082 pp. 12mo., . . 2 50 
 LIFE OF GEO. WASHINGTON, by Jaked Spabks, LL. D., new and fine edi- 
 tion, steel portrait, 674 pp. 12mo., . . . . . 1 25 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM H. SEWARD, with Selections from his Works, edited 
 
 by Geo. E. Baker, steel portrait, 410 pp. 12mo., . . . . 1 00 
 
 LIFE OF JOHN QULNCY ADAMS, by W. H. Bewaed, portrait, 404 pp. 12mo., 1 00 
 LIFE OF ANDREW JACKSON, by J. 8. Jehkims, illustrated, 397 pp. 12mo., 1 00 
 LIFE OF WM. H. HARRISON, by H. Montgomery, portrait, 405 pp. 12mo., 1 00 
 LIFE OF ZACHARY TAYLOR, by H. Montgomery, illustrated, 463 pp. 8vo., 1 25 
 LIFE OF FRANKLIN PIERCE, by D. W. Baetlett, portrait, 804 pp. 12mo., 75 
 LIFE OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, written by himself; with his Miscellane- 
 ous Essays, portrait, 875 pp. 12mo., . . . . 1 25 
 
 LIFE OF GEN. LAFAYETTE, by P. C. Headley, portrait, 877 pp. 12mo., 1 25 
 LIFE OF LOTJTS KOSSTJTH, inoluding Notices of the Men and Scenes of tho 
 Hungarian Revolution, and his Principal Speeches, by P. G. Headley ; with 
 
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 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE, and the Hunters of Kentucky, by W. H. Bogaet, 
 
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 LIFE OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE, Lookhaet, portrait, 892 pp. 12mo., 1 25 
 
 LIFE OF THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE, P. O. Heaijley, portrait, 888 pp., 1 25 
 
 LIFE OF MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS, P. O. Headley, portrait, 448 pp., 1 25 
 
 LIFE OF REV. A. JUDSON, by J. Clement, portrait, 836 pp. 12mo., . 1 00 
 LIVES OF THE THREE MRS. JTJDSONS, Mes. Willson, 2 portraits, 856 pp., 1 25 
 LIVES OF MARY AND MARTHA WASHINGTON, Mother and "Wife of 
 
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 LIFE OF LADY JANE GREY, by D. W. Baetlett, portrait, 298 pp. 12mo. T5 
 
 LIFE OF JOAN OF ARC, by D. W. Baetlett, portrait, 221 pp. 16mo., . 75 
 
 LIVES OF EMINENT METHODIST MINISTERS, containing Biographical 
 
 Sketches, Incidents, Anecdotes, Records of Travel, &c, by Eev. P. Douglass 
 
 Goreie, portraits, 408 pp. 12mo., . . . . , 1 00 
 
 LIFE OF PATRICK HENRY, by S. G. Aenold, 270 pp. 16mo., . . 60 
 
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