lobn C, Conway f P! pg!Sd ,.'".M\ .mmill [corner—««_ to fiNp^Seivvjale Arx^k. '»Keiv. c you le&ve. e>1w. t' ^ ^ ^ DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2018 with funding from Duke University Libraries https://archive.org/details/louisnapoleonhis01depu ENGIMVEI), jgrJmgsaM. THE OHIGJNAL nr LXFOSSE. OCT" J64G. i© M 11 MMlli ® W ©©'MPMftg, LOUIS NAPOLEON n AND HIS TIMES: ’ WITH NOTICES OF HIS WHITINGS; A MEMOIR OF THE BONAPARTE FAMILY AND A SKETCH OF FRENCH HISTORY TO THE EMPIRE, 1853. BY HENRY W. D_E PUY, AUTHOR OF “KOSSUTH AND HIS GENERALS,” “ETHAN ALLEN, WITII PORTRAITS. BUFFALO: PHINNEY & CO., 188 MAIN STREET. 1855 . Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, bj PHINNEY & CO. In the Clerk’s office of the District Court for the Northern District of New York. Stereotjpoc! by BEADLE , 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 better treated ; being spoken of as “a certain Marquis de Bonaparte who commanded the armies of the king I” napoleon’s civil administration. 89 reorganization of France from 1800 to 180-f. 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 1200,000,000 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 to 90 LOUIS NAPOLEON, and nrs. times. bis wife and child, and to a few of his early coinpan 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 WAR. 91 From the commencement to the close of Xapoleon’s career, the levies of soldiers in France exceeded four millions, and not less than three millions of these per¬ ished in the field, the hospital or the bivouac. If to these we add at least an equal number out of the ranks of their antagonists, it is clear that not less than six millions of human beings perished in warfare in the course of twenty years, in the very heart of civilized Europe, at the commencement of the nineteenth cen¬ tury of the Chistian era. But even these stupendous numbers give us no adequate conception of the de¬ struction of human life directly consequent on the wars of the Revolution and the Empire. We must add the thousands who perished from want, outrage, and ex¬ posure, and the hundreds of thousands who were subse¬ quently swept away by the ravages of that pestilence which took its rise amid the retreat from Russia, and the crowded garrisons of the campaign of 1813, and for several years afterward desolated in succession every country in Europe. And even when we have summed up and laid before us, in all the magnitude of figures, the appalling destruction of life here exhibited, we can still gather only a faint and remote conception of the 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IJIS TIMES. which 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 Robert Hall,) is nothing less than a temporary repeal of all the principles of virtue. The morality of peaceful times is directly opposite to the maxims of war. The fundamental rule of the first is to do good ; of the latter to inflict injuries. The 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 FOR WAR. 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. How, 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 acknowledge on a consideration of his own feelings. The other source of our erroneous sentiments Avith regard to war, may he 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 WAR. 95 good men who have contributed thereunto, have alike been consigned to oblivion. Again, — historians have seldom given a full and fair analysis of what war is. They have described the marches, the sieges, the able maneuvers, the ingenious stratagems, the gallant enterprises, the desperate con diets, 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 irs 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 LOUIS NATOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 be} r ond the issuing of a manifesto, the appointment of a general, the levying of trooj)s, 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 licensg 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 which REVIEW OF BONAPARTE’S REIGN. 97 can know no cure, and desolation which in this world can tind no alleviation ; ” — if such a message as this were conveyed to him — every word of which would be strictly true — would he not disown the ghastly image thus held 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 9S LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. of 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 Duchess d’Orleans, mother of Louis Philippe ; the Duchess d’ Orleans, wife of Louis Philippe ; and his sister Adelaide. Louis XVIII. was born November 15, 1755, and was bordering on his sixtieth year at the time of the restoration. He was brother to Louis XVI. He man¬ aged his escape from France, at the period of the Dev¬ 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 OF LOUIS XVIII. 99 late to his palace. He then retired to his own bed¬ chamber, was undressed by his valet-de-chambre, who slept in the same room, and whom he distrusted. 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 round hat a large tri-colored cockade. He then descended into the court of the palace, where a hackney-coach was waiting for him. On the quay he found a travel¬ ing carriage with post-horses, got into it with his friend, and with English names and passports, passed the bar¬ riers without suspicion. On arriving at Maubeuge, the last town in France on the Belgian frontier, he bribed the postillion to pass round the town, and tearing the tri-colored cockade off his hat, he abandoned himself to joy on throwing away, at last, this sign of his op¬ pression and of his terror. When they reached Mons, he pressed his deliverer, Count d’ Avaray, in his arms, and threw himself on his knees to thank heaven for his safety. Then mingling his scenic and literary souve¬ nirs with his self-congratulations on his escape, with characteristic frivolity, he parodied some verses of an opera, and applied their tragic meaning to the most burlesque accidents of his disguise and journey. Alas! while he was thus reveling in the isolated joys of his own safety, his wife, of whose fate he was ignorant, was running the same dangers by another route ; and the king, the queen, their children, and his sister, over¬ taken on the road at Varennes, were going to pay, 100 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND LIIS TIMES. 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 XYI. 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 XYH.,) met with a melancholy death. Blows, scanty food, the damps and filth of a dungeon, were inflicted on him. lie was even compelled to drink in¬ toxicating liquors. lie 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 Ilarmand, 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 XVIII. 101 ■would cry out, ‘get to bed, you young wolf.”’ From the time when he understood the nature of the crimes he had been made to charge his mother with, he main¬ tained uniform silence, and died, June 9,1795, without uttering a word. Upon his death, his uncle assumed the title of Louis XVIII., although he was, for nearly twenty years afterward, an exile from France. The throne of France was finally bestowed upon him, in 1811, 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. lie 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND ins TIMES. citizens ; 9th. the freedom of speech and of the 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 XVIIL’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 FOR 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 deatli of Louis XYIII., 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 XYIII. 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 Ilortense. This Lafayette neither declined nor accepted, but he was supposed to favor the pretensions of Joseph Bonaparte. Louis XYIII. never felt him¬ self secure on the throne, and was more than once on the point of flying from the country. lie died Sep¬ tember 16,1S2L “ Ilad 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, most probably, deferred the crisis for a few years.” The crisis did come, four years after Mr. Cooper wrote the above, and. the successor of Louis XYLH. was 104 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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. Ilis 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 XY11I. was obliged to quit the palace, as speedily as if it had been on fire. lie 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 XVHI., while sitting on the fauteuil on which he w r as 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 iny brother be careful of the crown of this child.” Not long after, the princes and several grand officers were assembled in another part of the palace, and seemed as though in expectancy of some momentous event. Suddenly a door of the apartment was thrown open, and a voice cried out,—“The King, sirs.” It was Charles X. that entered. Louis 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 106 LOUIS NAPOLKON AND HIS TIMES. escape from the impending ruin. Among hie 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 lauds. 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 CORONATION' OF CHARLES X. 107 his weaknesses. His new virtues bad 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 Kheims, 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON ANT) HIS TIMES. 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 peojde near us, and one of these was a sturdy Englishman, evidently a tradesman, who betrayed a keen and a truly national desire to get a look at the king. The head of a little girl was just visible above the side of the pavilion, and my companion, who, by a singular accident, not long before, had been thrown into company with les enfans de France," (as the royal children are called,) informed me that it was Mademoi¬ selle d’Artois, the sister of the heir presumptive. lie had given me a favorable account of the children, whom he represented as both lively and intelligent, and I changed my position a little, to get a better look of the face of this little personage, who was not twenty feet from the spot where we stood. My movement at¬ tracted her attention, and, after looking down a moment into the small area in which we were inclosed, she disappeared. Presently a lady looked over the balus¬ trade, and our Englishman seemed to be on tenter¬ hooks. Some thirty or forty French gathered round us * Children of France. UN POPULARITY OF THE ROYAL 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. The Dauphine followed him with her eyes. There was no mistaking his gaitered limbs, dogged mien, and florid countenance ; he clearly was not French, and those that were, as clearly turned his enthusiasm into ridicule. 1 felt sorry for her, as with a saddened face, she set down the boy, and withdrew her own head within the covering of the pavilion. The little Mad¬ emoiselle d’Artois kept ner bright looks, in a sort of wonder, on us, until the circumspection of those around her gave her a hint to disappear. This was the first direct and near view I got of the true state of popular feeling in Paris, toward the reigning family. Accord¬ ing to the journals in the interest of the court, enthusi¬ asm was invariably exhibited whenever any of their princes appeared in public.” The affairs of France were fast hastening to a crisis. Charles X., in 1829, appointed Prince Polignac to the head of the administration, a man known to entertain the most arbitrary purposes. Prince Polignac was supposed to 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 nation so WAR IN ALGIERS. Ill long estranged from the Bourbons and their policy. Polignac defied the storm ; hut unfortunately, as the contest continued, he departed from the course ot 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. their suspicions, a promise was made that the oecupa tion of Algiers should be merely temporary; but 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 w r ould 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 ivas 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 TIIE TRESS 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND niS TIMES. 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 RIOT BECOMES A REVOLUTION. 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 w r ere 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 116 LOUIS NArOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. their 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 street's, 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, wdiile 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, TIIE EXILED BONAPARTES. 117 urged Iiira to persevere. The contest was renewed on 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 royal cause, either to lay down their arms or evacuate Paris. The Revolution was speedily completed by the instal¬ lation of a provisional government ; measures were adopted for the speedy convocation of the chambers, and in a few hours the capital had nearly assumed its 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 6way of Louis XYIII., and the foolhardy reign of Charles X., the liberty, if not the lives of the Bonapartes, and also the wreck of their estates, de¬ pended on their absolute quietude. Among them, Queen Ilortense 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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, wdth my two sons; so much was I feared by them, that from post to post the enemies’ troops were under arms, as it was said, to protect my safe passage.” It was thus that the young princes whose birth was welcomed by the thunder of cannon, and who had grown up under the shadow of the greatest throne in the world, saw all the magnificence of royalty depart from them. With their youth, their country, their family, and their fu¬ ture hopes, all seemed to disappear at once, and give place to exile and the bitter trials of the world into which they were entering by the gate of misfortune. Augsburg, and afterward a house on the shores of the Lake Constance, was the asylum to which Queen Hortense retired. In this retreat she devoted herself wholly to the education of her sons. Prince Louis Napoleon was admitted into the camp at Thun, in the canton of Berne, which the Swiss assembled every year for the instruction and practice of engineer and artillery officers, under the direction of Napoleon’s skillful officers. This instruction consisted not merely in communicating information on the science, but in actual maneuvers and expeditions among the glaciers, in which the young prince, with his knapsack on his back, took part, partaking of the bread of the common soldier, and with his pick and compass in his hand. “ My son,” says Queen Hortense, in one of her letters, “ is still with the pupils at Thun, engaged in making military reconaissances in the mountains. They go on foot ten or twelve leagues a day, and by night LOUIS NAPOLEON. 119 sleep 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 Keichstadt, \\,as 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. lie became the de¬ clared imitator and executor of his uncle — the ac¬ knowledged’ chief of the young Napoleonidie. 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. Napoleonic lie 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 REIGN OF LOUIS PHILIPPE Tiie 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 lie,) 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 Xdtre 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 ting, 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 balls 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 LOUIS NAPOLLON AND HIS TIMES. 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 in 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. Put 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 CHARLES 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. lie left St. Cloud at the head of a few followers, and started toward the sea- coast ; but he lingered on the way, hoping to hear that his grandson, in whose favor he wrote a formal act of abdication, would be' accepted as king of France. It was two weeks before he left the soil of France. No one showed him any personal disrespect, but he could not but perceive that his expulsion 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. lie believed that a monarchy was necessary 120 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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, lie gave his acceptance in these terms: “I have read with great attention the declaration of the Chamber of Deputies and the act of adhesion of the Chamber of Peers. 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 oft' his glove, uncovered his head, and pronounced the following oath: “In the presence of God, I swear faithfully to observe the constitutional charter, with the modifications set forth in the declaration ; to gov¬ ern only by the laws ; to cause good 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 tire 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 PIIILirPE. 127 Louis Philippe of Orleans, Duke of Yalois 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 1S30, was born October 6, 1773. He was one of live 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 Egalite. 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 great-grandson. Whatever were the personal and political faults of citizen Egalite, he was a kind father, and beloved by his children. Desirous of imparting to his family a sound education, in which he himself had had the misfortune to be deficient, he committed them to the superintendence of his mistress, Madame de Sillery — better known by her later acquired title of Countess de Genlis. Notwithstanding the errors of this lady, she was eminently qualified, by her talents and disposi¬ tions, to be an instructress of youth. She appears to have endeavored to make up for her own misconduct by a scrupulous regard to the manners and morals of her pupils. The principles on which she based her plans of education were considerably in advance of the age, 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 JBeaujolais, 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. ISTor 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 Yalois took pleasure in these pursuits — as what boy would not, under proper direction, and if allowed scope for his ingenuity ? lie 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 Yalenciennes. Ilis attention to military duty had acquired for him the respect of his superiors, and was held up as a pattern to the service. Ilis 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 Yal¬ enciennes, to pay his respects to the new commandant, the veteran exclaimed — “ Ah ! Monsieur, I have never before had the pleasure of seeing so young a general officer ; how have you contrived to be made a general 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 LOUIS NArOLEON AND HTS TIMES. arms against the armies which menaced the tottering fabric of the French monarchy, the Resolution 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. “ You will assur¬ edly, (said he, addressing the Duke of Orleans,) find yourself in an appalling situation. Louis XYI. 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 Avith 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 scaffold, and a few months thereafter, the Duke of Or¬ leans was seized on the charge of conspiring against the nation. On the Gth 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 oft' 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND III3 TIMES. Dumouriez, became assured that the cause of moderation was lost, and looked with apprehension on the Reign of Terror which had already begun to manifest itself. There was little time for deliberation as to their course. Being summoned to appear before the Committee of Public Safety, and knowing that citations of this nature were for the most part equivalent to condemnation, both instantly 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 ivas 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 °nd servant reached 11 LOUIS PIIILIPPE A TEACHER. 133 monastery of St. Gothard, tired and footsore; the Prince rang the bell, and craved refreshment. ‘‘There is no admittance here for travelers on foot,” was the reply ; “certainly not for men of your appearance. Yonder is the house for you,” and the monk pointed with his finger to a shed in which some muleteers were eating cheese, and slammed the door in the Prince’s face. At Gordona, on another occasion, du¬ ring a bitter night, Louis Philippe presented himself at a farm-house, without luggage, and in somewhat damaged attire. lie 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 place of the absent candidate. The Prince ac¬ cordingly presented himself for examination, and was unanimously elected, after receiving great commenda¬ tion for the ability and knowledge he had evinced throughout the ordeal. lie was then twenty-two years 134 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. of age ; his salary was about $275 a-year, a larger sal ary than was usual in 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. lie 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 TRAVELING 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 some degrees beyond the Arctic Circle. Returning southward, the Prince traversed on foot the desert which separates the Northern Ocean from the river Tornea. Fifteen 136 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. days were occupied in the journey, during which time no other nourishment could he procured than the milk and flesh of the reindeer. It must he 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 PIIILiri’E IN AMERICA. 137 who proposed for the exiled princes an itinerary jour¬ ney to the western country, and furnished them with some letters of introduction for persons upon the route. They made the necessary preparations for a long tour, which they performed on horseback, each of them carrying in a pair of saddle-bags, after the fashion of that period, whatever he might require in clothes or other articles for his personal comfort. The traveling- map of the three princes is still preserved, and fur¬ nishes convincing proof that it has passed through severe service. The various routes followed by the travelers are strongly depicted in red ink ; and by their extent and direction they show the great 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 of the princes was performed, the back settlements of- the United States were in a comparatively rude condition, and could not be traversed without undergoing many hard¬ ships. From Washington they w-ent to Nashville, 138 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND UIS TIMES. 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¬ ing! y, 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 PHILIPPIC IN LOVE. 13D 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 sketcli 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 Susqueliannah — each of the travelers carrying his baggage, for the last twenty-five miles, upon his back. From Tioga the party proceeded to AVilkesbarre, and thence they crossed the country to Philadelphia. When in that city, Louis Philippe became enamored of a Miss AY—, 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 AY—. Many years after, when king of France, he distinguished by his attentions two young gentlemen of the AY— 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 New Orleans, and there to find a conveyance for Havana, whence they thought they could reach the mother country. They set out, therefore, for Pittsburg in December, 1797. At Carlisle, Louis Philippe was thrown from his •wagon and considerably injured. In early life, as we have seen, he had learned to perform the operation of bleeding. Immediately perceiving that his situation required depletion, and making his way, as he best could, to the tavern, he requested permission of the landlord to perform the operation in his house, and to be furnished with linen and water. The family was kind, and supplied him with every thing he required ; and he soon relieved himself by losing a quantity of blood. The circumstance, however, had attracted general attention, in consequence of the accident to the wagon, and of the injury to the traveler, and still LOUIS PHILirPE RETURNS TO EUROPE. 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 in the navigation, and arrived at New Orleans in February, 1798. From New Orleans they embarked on board an American vessel for Havana. Upon their passage they were boarded by an English frigate under French colors. Until the character of the cruiser was ascer¬ tained, the three brothers were apprehensive that they might be recognized and conducted to France. How¬ ever, when it was discovered, on one side, that the visitor was an English ship, and, on the other, that the three 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 to 142 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 Beaujolais was attacked with the same disease, and ordered to a warmer climate. Louis Phil¬ ippe accompanied the invalid to Malta, and reached the island in time to find a final resting place for the young sufferer. The Count of Beaujolais died at Viletta, MARRIAGE OF LOUIS PHILIPPE. 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 Ainelie 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. lie 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. and the probability of a family, the marriage was scarcely a prudent one. However, marriage goes by destiny ; and, notwithstanding some objections amd delays by the queen, consent was obtained, and on the 25th of November, 1809, the Duke of Orleans and the Princess Marie Amelje were married, in the old Nor¬ man chapel of the Palazzo Eeale. Before the marriage was permitted, however, the queen of Naples had employed Louis Philippe on one of her political schemes. When the popular insur¬ rection against Napoleon took place in Spain, she thought of getting her second son appointed regent of the kingdom ! Apparently proceeding upon “ the one down and t’other come up” principle, she dis¬ patched her son Prince Leopold and Louis Philippe to Gibraltar, that the Spaniards might take one if they rejected the other. The princes were permitted to 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. 145 exploits, was to invade the south of France; a project that was no sooner detected, than ]N r apoleon, by in¬ vading Catalonia, gave the Catalan force enough to do at home. Still unconvinced, the Duke of Orleans, in the summer of 1810, again fished in Spanish waters. The regency invited him to a command ; which, not¬ withstanding the opinion of Wellington, he persisted in accepting ; but the plan was baffled by the veto of Cortes. When the partisans of the Duke of Orleans, after the success of the “three days,” announced that he was the only Bourbon who had never borne arms against France, Louis Philipipe may have remembered the prudence of the British commander’s advice. According to a tolerably well authenticated anecdote, Danton, in the early part of the first Revolution, also advised Louis Philippe to act discreetly. While he was with the army under Dumouriez, he was in the habit of expressing his views with great freedom on public measures. Danton sent for him and urged him to be more prudent. “In the future,” said the great leader of the Revolution, “be silent. Return to the army; do your duty ; but do not unnecessarily expose your life. You have many years before you. France is not fitted for a republic; it has the habits, the wants, and the weaknesses of a monarchy. After one storm it will be brought back to that by its vices or by its necessities. You will be King! Adieu, young man. Remember the prediction of Danton!” 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 14.6 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. agitated career. It was a season of mild repose — a blush of light between the storms, llis mother, his sister, and his wife were at his side ; children were born unto him; public affairs ceased to harass or de- press him ; he sought and found happiness at the fam¬ ily hearth, where Heaven provides it for the meanest. In the midst of the profound calm there fell a thun¬ derbolt. Napoleon was beaten; Louis XVIII. was restored to the throne of France. Louis Philippe heard the news, arid started for Paris that very moment. Marvelous vicissitudes of life! The man who had been refused his bed of straw at a monastery, reached the French metropolis, and, scarcely taking time for refreshment, hurried to the Palais Royal to set foot again in his maemificent 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 XVIII. 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 XVIII. 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 XVIII., as quick as lightning, was beyond the frontier. Louis Philippe, accompanied by his family, was again at Twickenham. Waterloo again restored the crown to the Bourbons, but they were not wise enough to retain it. The first proposition made by the House of Peers on behalf of the restored crown, was that all who had taken any part whatever in the successive revolutions of France should be visited with extreme punishment. Louis Philippe was in the chamber of Peers when the im¬ politic measure was proposed. lie protested against it loudly and indignantly, and at his instigation the obnoxious motion was rejected without a division. Louis XVIII., 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 XVIII. in his own memoirs, and with touching imbecility, “ that 148 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. although Louis Philippe does not stir, he advances. LIow 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 Keuilly, 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 XVIII. 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 Revolution. 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 Xapoleon. His intimate society was among the writers and orators of liberty. He was irreproachable in appear ance toward the court, and gracious and attractive toward the rising opposition. This opposition seemed to spring up in the very palace of Orleans, where the Revolution had its birth. At last came the Revolu¬ tion of the Barricades (in 1830) and the once homeless and needy wanderer was elevated to the throne of F ranee. The new monarchy established in France was ex- LOUIS PHILIPPE ON THE THRONE. 149 posed to the most imminent dangers from the republi¬ cans on the one hand and the parfizaus 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 over¬ come before the throne could enjoy tranquillity. The republican party deemed itself betrayed by the elec¬ tion of a king, and several who had consented to that arrangement were satisfied with the limited extension of popular privileges gained by the Revolution. A great number of idle, discontented young men were anxious to involve Europe in a war of opinion, and they denounced the king as a traitor to the principles which had placed him on the throne, because he re¬ fused to grant their insane wishes. The total sepa¬ ration of the church from the state alienated the French clergy; while the royalists, recovered from their first terror, began to entertain hopes of a restora¬ tion. Tlius surrounded by difficulties and dangers, Louis Philippe was far from finding his throne a bed of roses ; but he evinced firmness and talent adequate to the occasion, and he "was zealously supported by the middle classes, who looked upon him as their guarantee for constitutional freedom and assured tranquillity. An insurrection of the Carlists, as the partisans of the exiled family were called, in the south of France, injured the cause it was designed to serve. It was 150 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 landing In La Vendee, and heading the royalists in the province. Such preparations were made, that when the Duchess landed, she found her partisans disheartened, and their movements so closely watched, that it was scarcely possible for them to assemble any force. Still she resolved to persevere; but the enter¬ prise degenerated into a series of isolated and insig¬ nificant attacks, made by small bodies in a strong country, and the proceedings of the royalists, con¬ sequently, resembled those of the brigands. The Duchess continued five months in the country, though actively pursued by the military and police; she was at length betrayed by one of her associates, and made prisoner. The government of Louis Philippe treated the royal captive with great clemency. She had not been long in prison when it was discovered that she was about to become a mother, having been privately married some time before her arrest. This unfortunate circumstance threw such an air of ridicule over the entire enterprise, that the royalists abandoned all fur¬ ther efforts against the government. The Revolution of July, 1830, had driven one dy¬ nasty from the throne of France, and seated another in its place. It had thus prevented a return to the despotic government of the seventeenth century, and preserved the little share of liberty which the Bourbons, on their restoration in 1814, had granted with a reluc¬ tant and sparing hand, to the French nation. Their overthrow was consequent upon their endeavors to LOUIS PillLU’PE 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 Eu¬ rope, entitle him to lasting admiration. His reply to a deputation from Belgium, inviting the Duke of Ne¬ mours, his second son, to ascend the Belgian throne, was worthy of his reputation. “The thirst of conquest, (said he,) or the honor of seeing a diadem placed on the brow of my son, shall not induce me to expose my country to a repetition of those calamities which war entails; nor could any advantages France might reap from my acceptance of the honor you propose, compen¬ sate for those evils. The examples of Louis XIY. and of Napoleon are sufficient to save me from the fatal temp¬ tation of erecting thrones for my sons ; and I prefer the maintenance of peace to all the brilliancy of victories, 152 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TMKS. 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 wfith which he supported his ill-fortune, and his patience. These two persons were admirably qualified to be always 7* 154 LOUIS NArOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 affaix-s 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, MADAME 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 Beaujolais; together they shared, a second time, exile from Francetogether 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 bad 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 arid 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 PRINCE 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 till so important an office as the one he held, he would have given the royal family the only counsel which ought to have been acted upon — he would have represented to it that to seek alliances with those inimical to the Revolution which elevated it to power, was a gratuitous degradation of itself—that a French¬ woman, the daughter of some considerable citizen, 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 out of the ques¬ tion for an Austrian princess to form an i^liance that might lead her to the guillotine, or to be subject to ride 15S LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 80, 1839, lie 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, 1S42. This much lamented prince was returning from Neuilly, when the horses of his carriage took fright, and he, in attempting to jump out, was thrown upon his head and killed. He was the most popular of Louis Philippe’s sons. The Duke of Hemours, the second' son of the king — the proposed regent of France, should Louis Philippe die before the Count of Paris attained his majority — was, jierhaps, 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 Joiuville 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. All 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 Arragon, would eventually descend upon one brow. Yet all these princely alliances, Louis Philippe afterward found, were less influential in fixing his family upon the throne of France, than would have been the marriage of his sons with the daughters of French citizens. Louisa Marie, the eldest daughter of Louis Philippe, was married to Leopold, King of the Belgians. His first wife was the Princess Charlotte, heir apparent to the throne of England, whose early death cast a gloom over the English nation. Marie Christine, the second daughter of Louis Philippe, married Duke Alexander of Wurtemburg. She died of consumption soon after the birth of a son, 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 face is remarkable, and ICO LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 relating, 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, princess, you who understand such matters, how can you stop before such baboons ? ” Such was the family of Louis Philippe. His peculiar GUIZOT. 161 province seemed to be, to bring up, instruct, and en¬ rich his children. Ilis 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. Ilis 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. Ilis father was a lawyer of some eminence, who, on account of his principles during the Revolution, was compelled to flee from the country. lie 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 tin's admirable woman, the austere practice of those painful duties which 162 LOUIS XAPoLEON AM) II1S TIMES. devolved upon her. Notwithstanding the interest with which the sad fate of her husband invested her in their native town, she tore herself away from friends and relatives, and proceeded to Geneva, where she felt she could give her children a more solid and serious educa¬ tion than the distracted condition of France permitted at home. In 1805, young Guizot went to Paris, and began the study of the law. Here the gravity and severity of his character, with poverty, and want of friends, kept him long in obscurity. But he finally procured a pre- ceptorship in a family of great respectability, where he was treated according to his singular merits, and brought into connection with influential society. In this situation he became acquainted with Mademoiselle Pauline de Meulan, a lady of excellent attainments and character, and of a distinguished family, but im¬ poverished by the Revolution. She at that time con¬ ducted a periodical with great success; but being seized with a serious illness, she feared she should be obliged to suspend, if not to discontinue altogether, her labors, for lack of the necessary assistance. While these sad thoughts were revolving in her mind, she received, one morning, in an unknown hand, a letter, telling her to keep her mind at rest, for that if the zeal and industry of another could suffice, she might rely upon the reg¬ ular aid of a substitute. The offer of the unknown contributor, who was none other than Guizot, was ac¬ cepted ; and it was not till she had completely recov¬ ered that Mademoiselle de Meulan was aware of the name of her benefactor. This good-natured act was not without its uses to Guizot. His humane and liberal MARRIAGE OF GUIZOT. 1G3 conduct procured him friends and admirers; and when, in the following year, (1309) 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 Foots.” Guizot had now embraced literature rather than law for a profession. lie published a French translation of Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, enriched with valuable and erudite notes, indi¬ cating depth of scholarship and historical research. The friendship, founded on his kindness to Pauline de Meulan, ripened into love, and five years after, (1812) they were married. Pauline was several years his senior. She was a superior woman, of a grave and reflective character, who struggled to make all who came into contact with her purer and more perfect. As was to be expected, she acquired a great ascend¬ ancy over the steady and sensible young man who had chosen her for a wife. The demure and hard-working student had many angularities to round off—many little defects of manner and gesture to modify. Mad¬ ame Guizot became his monitress ; and thus early habituated to prudence and self-control, these virtues became a part of his nature. Soon after his marriage he was appointed to the professorship of history in the Paris University. In 1814, on the restoration of the Bourbons, he was appointed to a government office, but Bonaparte’s return from Elba sent him back to his professorship. From this period until the year 1820 his life was mostly literary, though he was occasionally in the employ of the government. Between 1820 and 1G4 LOUIS NAPOLEON ANT) HIS TIMES. 1822, lie published several political pamphlets, which had great influence on public opinion. In these pro¬ ducts of a powerful and reflective mind, there was neither flattery of the people, nor abuse of 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 Shalcspeare 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. His only rival in the public estimation was Thiers. An able but unscrupulous and dishonest diplomatist, he bent the whole energy of his genius to the promotion of the projects of Louis Philippe for the aggrandize¬ ment of his family. The chief, and almost only merit, that can 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 sujiposed 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. pedantical air, there is a certain dignity in his manner. His voice is full and sonorous, but it is neither very varied in tone nor very flexible. It is dry, sententious, clear, dogmatical, luminous, lacking the suppleness and vivacity of Thiers, and genial flow, pathos, richness, and grace. But its tone, it must be admitted, is gen¬ erally philosophical and elevated, and he exhibits great power of expression, and often much adroitness in hitting the humor of the Chamber. Ho man seizes on a leading 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 buists which enthrall and captivate the auditor and hurry him along against his will, yet he is almost always copious and fertile, and shows his supe¬ 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 and 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 THIEKS. 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. Rather than confer the prize of eloquence upon him, his instructors adjourned the trial a year, when, producing the same piece, he was outdone, much to their satisfaction, by an anony¬ mous oration sent from Paris; but what was their subsequent mortification to find that this also was a production of their mischievous little Jacobin, who had taken this pleasant method of entrapping them. As a lawyer in Aix, Thiers could get no employment, and went with Mignet to Paris. They took lodgings in the garret of a miserable house in one of the meanest streets of the capital. A common chest of drawers, of the cheapest wood, a bed to match, two rush-bottom chairs, a little rickety nut-wood table, incapable of standing steadily on its legs, and a white calico cur¬ tain, formed the inventory of the furniture which ac¬ commodated the future prime minister of the greatest country in Europe, and the future historian of the Revolution. After some time spent in poverty and restlessness, Thiers obtained a situation among the editors of an influential journal. Ilis 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. lie 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. proprietor of one-half of the journal he conducted. He rose at live 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 w'ere 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 Bodin, a writer then popular in France. It created a great sensation, 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 effort, was one in regard to the finances. He was chosen to THIERS IN TIIE 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, 8 170 LOUIS NArOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 hours, they invited him to rest, not from fatigue on their part, but from apprehension of bis 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, w T hich 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 proini nent position in the administration of affairs until the overthrow of his royal master. In physical appearance, Adolphe Thiers is extremely unprepossessing. lie 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 WAR IN ALGIERS. 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. afforded congenial occupation to the most restless, and turbulent, portion of the French, who might otherwise have periled the peace of Europe. The occupation of the new possession, however, was a constant source of em¬ barrassment, and occasioned a continual and enormous drain upon the treasury. The intractable natives of Algiers, it was found, were not reducible to method ; and European colonists could not be induced to settle among them. At least the French, who understand the sword better than the olive-branch, and parade more than utility, could make nothing of their acquisi¬ tion. Nominally masters of Algiers, they really only possessed those portions occupied by their garrisons. The neighboring Moors 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 AND TIIE ARABS. 173 French. The Arabs, whose rude and savage love of independence is the redeeming trait of their character, and whose religious fanaticism in the hour of defeat arouses them to fresh exertions, were unanimous in their determination never to yield to the French. The latter gained victory after victory without advantage. The Arabs were able to flourish where the French could not exist. Their burning summers, their rugged and pathless country, were allies that no treachery could deprive them of. Their destitution of military sup¬ plies, without which no European army can perform the most ordinary operations, did not aftect their con¬ stant power of annoyance, or diminish their opportu¬ nities of harassing and surrounding their opponents’ position. They regarded Abd-el-Ivader — 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 Riah, 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 anus 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 w T as 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 susoended the throwing of the burning fagots, and sent a French officer to hold a parley with the Ouled Piahs, but his messenger was received with a discharge of fire-arms, and could not perform his mission. This state of tilings 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. O O O This silence spoke volumes. The troops entered and found eight hundred dead bodies. About one hundred and fifty, who still breathed, were brought into tho 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 wflth 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 lie 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. 176 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. His dross was always distinguished by the most studied simplicity, having no gold or embroidery on any part of it. His whole appearance is dignified and prepos¬ sessing. His disposition is humane, and many acts of generosity are told of him. His habits are correct, according to the Arab standard, as he is guiltless of any infidelity toward his wives, four of" whom accom¬ panied him to his French prison. In regard to these wives, the French relate an amusing anecdote. Abd- el-Kader, it is said, lately employed a competent per¬ son to give his children lessons in writing. The teacher fulfilled his task in the most exemplary manner, treat¬ ing his little pupils with the utmost kindness. The brave father, being very grateful, bethought him of making the teacher a present as a mark of his esteem, and, after much cogitation, concluded to give him one of his Arabian wives! The Frenchman in vain en¬ deavored to explain that he already had a wife, and that European law only allowed him one. Abd-el- Kader thought the writing-masker wished to be cere- monious, and persisted most pcrseveringly 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. Hot 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 EMIR. 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. lie 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-el-Kader, 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 piquant, to be lightly parted with, and the French will probably keep the lion still caged as an object on which to exercise their sensibilities. Occasionally the Emir appears on his balcony, accompanied by the ladies of his suite. One of them is said to be still young, and very handsome. This is the report of a young French¬ man, whose patient curiosity was rewarded on a happy occasion, when the vailed fair one withdrew the envi¬ ous screen of her beauties one day, imagining that she was unobserved, that she might the better gaze upon the fine river, and feel the soft breeze of an evening in June upon her cheek. Occasionally some of the children of the captives may be seen playing round their parents, as they stand motionless, looking from 178 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND niS TIMES. 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 YI. LOUIS NAPOLEON. 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 w 7 as unacquainted with their plans: “Mother, — Your affection will comprehend our feelings. We have entered into engagements, which 180 r.OUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 such sons. The whole of their conduct in these melancholy circumstances, is a series of noble and generous sentiments, worthy of their name.” Hor¬ tense, who was a woman of great penetration, endeav¬ ored in vain to dissuade her sons from their rash and perilous enterprise. The princes, listening only to their warlike ardor, armed and led forward a few determined patriots. Several brilliant actions were fought with much bravery and address, against greatly superior bodies of Austrians. They defeated the Papal forces on several occasions. Great rejoicings prevailed in the camp of the insurgents: alarm and confusion filled the Yatican. Both were of short duration. The crooked and double-tongued policy of the French and Austrian rulers gained the upper hand. The two princes were finally conquered and banished from the soil of Italy. At Faenga the elder of the two brothers was attacked with an internal inflammation and ex¬ pired, March 27, 1831, in the arms of the younger. Louis FTapoleon was also sick from fatigue, anxiety and affliction. The Austrians were in possession or the town where he was concealed, and it required all the IIORTENSE AND HER SON IN PARIS. 181 fortitude and ingenuity of the Duchess of St. Leu, (as Queen Ilortense 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 jov in being able once more to behold that city which I was about to leave, probably for ever, without speaking to any one, or being at all distracted from the impression which that view made upon my mind.” Thus it was that that young man, whose birth had been announced by salvos of artillery throughout the vast extent of the empire, from Hamburgh to Rome, and from the Pyr¬ enees to the Danube, returned to Paris, after fifteen years of exile, a proscribed fugitive. A new impulse was given to the indomitable ambition of Louis 182 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 he 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 Csesar, and w 7 hat is more, the destinies * The Emperor, through the solicitation of Hortense, permitted Louis Philippe’s mother and aunt, (the Duchess of Bourbon, mother of the Duke of Enghein,) to remain in France, and granted to the former a pension of $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 for her beneficent influence with the Emperor in their behalf. LOUIS NAPOLEuN 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 Ilortense, 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 $1000. The com¬ mittee, as an expression of their gratitude, wrote him the following letter: 184 LOUIS NAPOLI ON AND IIIS TIMES. “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 olfer 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. lie 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 MANUAL OF ARTILLERY. 185 Two years afterward, Prince Napoleon published a work on artillery, for the use of the Swiss troops, as a reward for which, the government appointed him a captain of artillery. In acknowledging this mark of esteem and confidence, he wrote as follows : “I have just received the letter which informs me 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. ISO LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. In 1S35, 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 T 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 mv mind. My father has proved to me by 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, 1 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. “Put 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.” lie 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 namo 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 NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. acknowledged leader of the republican party, continued the intercourse with the Prince. “Ilis political and military works, (said Carral in regard to Louis Na¬ poleon,) prove that lie has a noble character and a strong mind. IIis 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 the} r wished, with¬ out committing themselves to his cause, to be in a situation to make the most of circumstances, should Louis Philippe be overthrown. REVOLUTIONARY PROJECTS. 189 In the month of July, 1836, Louis Xapoleon 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. lie relied more upon the hap¬ pening of some favorable exigency than upon any pre¬ arranged plan. The magic of his name, however, was his chief reliance. His favorite idea was that of throwing himself into some large and strongly forti¬ 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 such 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 revolution 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 AND HIS TIMES. the route. The example of Strasbourg would carry with it all Alsace and its garrisons. The line of march would be through Vosges, Lorraine, and Champagne. "What grand reminiscences would be awakened ! What resources secured by the patriotism of these provinces! Metz would obey the impulse received from Stras¬ bourg. Nancy, and her garrisons would be surprised, on the fourth day, before the government would have time to act! The national cause, as Prince Louis Na¬ poleon seemed to regard his scheme, would be strength¬ ened every day! Proclamations made to excite the sympathies of the people would penetrate everywhere; they would spread over the north, the west, the middle and the south of France! Besangon, Lyons, Grenoble, would feel the electrifying effect of this grand revolu¬ tion ! The government would be powerless! It would be unable to retard, much less to arrest, the progress of a movement begun with such energy! To this army of citizens and soldiers, enthusiastic for liberty ,and glory, it could only oppose regiments shaken by the contagious example of revolt! Paris and France would acknowledge 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. Llis 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AT STRASBOURG. 191 army 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 wdiat 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 anti justice.” It is by no means certain that the prince argued unwisely. At Baden, Louis Napoleon became acquainted with several young officers, who declared themselves ready to join him. One evening, after one of those brilliant parties, so customary at fashionable watering places, he mounted his horse, and accompanied by a friend, soon arrived at Strasbourg. In a room hired for the purpose, fifteen officers met that night. When they heard that Louis Napoleon was about to appear before them, they exclaimed enthusiastically : “The Emperor’s nephew shall be welcome! He has nothing to fear; he has confided in us; we would defend him at the peril of our own lives!” The prince then made his appearance : “ Gentlemen, (said he,) I have confided 192 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 he 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; w r e 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 wuth 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 VAUDREY. 193 party. A rendezvous had been assigned in the grand duchy of Baden to some important personages on whom he counted. He found no one at the place ap¬ pointed, and after waiting three days, resolved to set out for Strasbourg, where he arrived, October 28th. The next day he had an interview with Colonel Yau- drey, which would have made a man of a more patient temperament hesitate. The colonel urged in objection, the rashness of the enterprise ; the number of chances against it; the extreme uncertainty of success among 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 Najioleon 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 Yaudrey’s children, but the incorruptible old veteran indignantly tore up the document, exclaiming, — “I give my blood, I do not Bell it!” Colonel Yaudrey was commander of the regiment in which the Emperor had made his first campaign, and which at a later period, (on his return from Elba,) proud of the recollection of this circum¬ stance, welcomed him with transports at Grenoble, and formed his escort in his triumphal march to Paris. Louis Napoleon found a still more important, al¬ though a less distinguished auxiliary, in the person of M. de Persigny. With a quick and easy wit, •lever, energetic and bold, and with a mind full of resources, M. de Persigny was at once the directing intelligence 9 194 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 these leaders, who risked not only their own lives, but the repose of society, in their hazardous ex¬ ploit. Madame Gordon*, in the character of a public singer at Strasbourg, had drawn many of these around her as admirers, and, making their adherence to the plot for the elevation of Louis Napoleon, the condition on which they were to receive her smiles, had involved them in the conspiracy. The 30th of November, 1836, was the day fixed for the commencement of the insurrection. It was agreed that the first thing requisite was to win a considerable armed force over to the Prince’s side, so that the feel¬ ings of the inhabitants of Strasbourg might not bo NIGIIT BEFORE TIIE INSURRECTION. 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. Kooms 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, successive^, toward three o’clock, and his rooms were soon crowded. lie 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 Vaudrey was to repair to the Austerlitz barrack. The Prince exclaimed, “My poor mother, I have deceived her! She believes that I am with my cousin. She must learn from myself what may be my fate.” He then wrote two hasty letters, in one of which he informed his mother of the success of his enterprise; in the other he said, “I have fallen, 196 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 ; 1 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 flrst 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 w T as 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 enterjmse; 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 reo-iment was assembled, hastened to the scene of o 1 action. A movement of curiosity was visible when ADDRESS TO THE SOLDIERS. 197 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 1’ 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-field, it towered above every capital of continental Europe. Soldiers, rally around this noble banner! I confide it to your 198 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. honor and to your courage. Let us march together against the traitors and the oppressors of our country, crying, ‘Vive la France! vive la liberte!’” This speech was received with acclamations. Many of the inhabitants, attracted by the noise, joined them¬ selves, in crowds, to the retinue, and mingled their shouts with those of the soldiers. Joy and hope beamed on every face. The first steps to be taken were the arrest of the civil authorities and the general in command of the fortress. While some were dis¬ patched to the residences of the magistrates, Louis Napoleon proceeded to the quarters of general Voirol. Approaching him, the Prince said — “General, I come to you as a friend. 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 6ide — 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 told -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 ARREST OF LOUIS NAPOLEON. 199 that he preferred attributing it to a vulgar ambition on the part of Colonel Valid rey, 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 w r as 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 wrnund 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND ms TIMES. 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 1 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 1S30, 1 requested per¬ mission to return to France as a private citizen. I was repulsed. I desired to be allowed to serve as a common soldier. No notice was taken of this request. 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 till a throne. I aspired to some¬ thing higher. I wished to assemble a national Con¬ gress, which, consulting the wishes of each man, would have made French laws, without borrowing constitutions that are not suited to us, from other countries. The Emperor accomplished his mission; he prepared the nation for liberty, by introducing the principle of equality in their customs, and by making merit the only means of rising. Every government that has succeeded that of the Emperor has been ex¬ clusive ; one rested wholly on the nobility and clergy, another on a louryeoise 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 6 * 203 LOLIS NAPOLI-ON AND HIS TIMES. brave companions in misfortune, ‘we will conquer together in the cause of the French nation, or perish with you! ’ Do not suppose that it was my aim to imitate the last of the Homan 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 Yoirol 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 IIORTENSE. 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 Thiboulot; 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 Ilortense : “My Dear Mother: — Your tenderness is proved by the step you have taken. You thought only of the danger in which I was placed, and not of my honor, which compelled me to share the fate of my companions in misfortune. It gives me the greatest pain to be obliged to abandon men whom I have led to ruin, when my presence and my testimony might have influenced the jury in their favor. I have written to the king to entreat him to show mercy to them ; it is the only favor I ask. I am about leav¬ ing France for America, but, my dear mother, if you do not wish to increase my affliction, do not follow me, I entreat you. 204 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. “Will you see that the prisoners of Strasbourg are in want of nothing. Take care of the sons of Colonel Vaudrev, 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 his 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. IIow 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 Parrot, 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 AND HIS TIMES. that in 1815 they had sworn fidelity to Napoleun 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 painful sensations. When some months ago I went to bring home Matilda, on re-entering the park I found a tree which had been blown down by the tempest, and I said to myself, our marriage will be broken off by fate. That which I vaguely guessed has become real¬ ized. Have I then exhausted all the happiness which was destined for me?” The lady to whom the Prince makes the above allu¬ sion, was the daughter of Jerome Bonaparte, and was af¬ terward married to a Russian prince. Her extraordin¬ ary beauty, her manifold graces and accomplishments ANOTHER REVOLUTIONARY 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 Vendome, were forming the plan of a mutiny, the object of which was to proclaim a republic. The plot, de¬ nounced before the hour appointed for its execution, was easily stifled. It had been conceived by a brigadier named Bruyant, a resolute man, and one of no com¬ mon stamp. Being arrested, he escaped from his guards, and swam across the Loire. But his accom¬ plices not having been able to imitate his example, he was unwilling to escape the fate that awaited them, and returned and surrendered himself a prisoner. The government of Louis Philippe was in consterna¬ tion. A long series of conspiracies, riots and disorders had occurred, in which the unpopularity and weakness of the king were displayed in a glaring and dangerous manner. Every device was put in practice to cloak the important nature of the events. The ministerial 208 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 Vaudrey, Parquin, De Bruc, Laity, De Querelles, De Gricourt, and Madame Gordon. The trial was one of extraordinary interest. The rank of the accused, most of them being military men ; the glorious past days of some ; the youth and spirit of the others; the ardent sympathy in favor of the revolt — all conspired to render the spectacle im¬ pressive. The demeanor of the prisoners corresponded with the interest they excited. Parquin expressed freely the attachment he bore to the memory of the Emperor and to his family. Madame Gordon was en¬ dowed with so much beauty and fiery eloquence that she won the sympathy of all. Querelles, De Gricourt and De Bruc sustained their examination almost with exultation. Colonel Yaudrey 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 TRIAL OF THE PRISONERS AT STRASBOURG. 209 he had given pledges to death. Beaten, he refused to defend himself, and was only prevailed on to do so by beino- 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 in justice, 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 AND IIIS TIMES. exultation. The same enthusiasm prevailed in tl streets. The city of Strasbourg put on the appearance o; a holiday, and a sumptuous banquet was given to tne released prisoners. The issue of the prosecution struct the government with consternation. Louis Philippe was particularly mortified by it. The evidence of conspira¬ cies and of implacable animosity which confronted him, and which put his life and his throne in hourly peril, rendered his position far from enviable. When Louis Napoleon was sent to the United States, instead of being tried for high treason, it was generally- believed that it was done upon his pledge not to return to Europe within ten years. That Louis Philippe should have been at the expense of sending him away — to say nothing of this exercise of clemency— without such a guarantee, either written or verbal, it is difficult to believe. The fact that his 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 DKATn-BEO OF HORTENSE. 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, “IIortense. "April 3d, 1837.” It is deserving of remark, that in this letter, Ilor- 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 shfe 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 LOUIS NATOLEON AND IIIS TIJLES. 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 Louis!—my mother!” She made an effort to speak, and to open her eyes; but her hands were already cold, and her eyelids paralyzed, and she could only make a feeble, almost impercep¬ tible, movement to this earnest appeal. Her natural tenderness, so true and so exalted, had already con¬ veyed to her half-expiring heart the voice of her son. A feeble motion of the hand which he held assured him of the fact, and in an instant after, the last sigh of his mother sounded upon his ears. She died on the 5th of October, 1837. Death gave her a tomb in her native land. Her remains were deposited in the vil¬ lage church at Ruel, 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 Ilortense—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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AT ARENEMBEKG. 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 my memory.” After the death of his mother, Louis Napoleon con¬ tinued to reside at Arenemberg, where he seemed for a time to confine himself to the study of military tac¬ tics and political economy. But in 1838 he induced Lieutenant Laity, who had been involved in the Stras¬ bourg affair, to write a pamphlet justifying the attempt which was then made to subvert the throne of Louis Philippe. His publication was looked upon by the government as the manifestation of a new conspiracy, and the luckless lieutenant was arrested. When he was upon the eve of his trial, Louis Napoleon wrote him a letter of condolence, so injudiciously expressed, that it could not but aggravate the case of the person in whose possession it should be found. In that letter Louis Napoleon declared that he had partizans every 214 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. where in France, from the workshop of the 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-three 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: “ 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 NAPOLEON IN ENGLAND. 215 of which Switzerland would become the victim ; I have no alternative but to quit a country, when my presence is made the cause of such unjust preten¬ sions, and would be made the excuse for such great misfortunes. “In quitting, voluntarily, for the present, the only country in Europe where I have met with support and protection, and which has now become dear to me for so many reasons, I hope to prove to the Swiss people, that 1 was worthy of those marks of esteem and affec¬ tion which they have lavished upon me. 1 hope this separation wi-11 not be perpetual, and that a day will come, when, without compromising the interests of tw r o 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 be 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 beeu 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. For six years lie liad resided, as an exile, in England, 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, wdien 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 7 -, 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 DEATH OF THE DUKE D ANG0ULE1TE. 217 Lis 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 ALiy 4, 1844, at Goritz. Ilis 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 Y. He was a harmless character, of no marked talent, and of no decided propensities. During the government of Charles X. he was contented with doing what he was bid—at the Revolution of 1830 he was contented with doing nothing — and during his exile he was contented with being nothing. Though exiled he could scarcely be called unfortunate. He had the means of existence without the trouble of exertion — he had the name of a prince without its responsibilities — and he had the title of a king, without its labors, its duties, or its cares. The Emperor Xapoleon, while at St. Helena, had often expressed an ardent desire to be buried in France. This wish was solemnly and pathetically repeated in his will. “It is my wish, (said he, after making his numerous bequests,) that my ashes may repose on the 10 218 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 hut 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 suite 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 AND HIS TIMES. 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 tow T ard 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 III.!” This painful incident distressed the Prince, and threw a damper over the spirits of all. A report, too, was at that instant brought him, which afterward turned out incorrect, that one of his principal officers had abandoned his cause, and gone over to the king. Growing desperate with his situation, he made an en¬ ergetic effort to dissipate the confusion prevailing, and rally the drooping courage of his troops. Their reso¬ lution returned, and, still accompanied by the greater SECOND DEFEAT OF LOOTS 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 LOUIS NArOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 had left, and being hotly pursued, threw himself into the surf, and made great exertions to overtake his friends. lie had swum a considerable distance, amid a shower of fire, and had nearly reached them, when his strength began to fail, and he was about to sink. Efforts were made to rescue him, but he cried out, “Push on — save the Prince, and leave me to my fate!” Escaping from the grasp of his friends, who were endeavoring to keep him out of danger, the Prince, wholly regardless of the risk, laid hold of his faithful old partisan, and en¬ deavored to drag him in. In the attempt the boat was upset, and the whole party were precipitated into the water. This painful event, instead of awakening the humanity of those on the shore, who disgraced the uniform they wore, only seemed to renew their zeal. They fired volley after volley on the unfortunate band, whose numbers were rapidly diminished. Some were shot, others drowned; but the Prince succeeded in reaching the shore, when he 6tood unshrinkingly up, folded his arms, and facing his enemy, calmly awaited his death-blow. Two of his friends, Count Dunin and M. Faure, faithful to the last, were shot dead at his side. Col. Voisin rushed forward to protect him, and received several balls in different parts of his body. M. Galveni, a Pole, in attempting the same 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 6eize 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 W’ere 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 judges. An opportunity, however, is afforded me of explaining to my fellow-countrymen my past conduct, my intentions, my projects ; all that I think, all that I have at heart. “Without pride, but also without weakness, if I re¬ call the rights deposited by the nation in the hands of my family, it 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 AND HIS TIMES. sovereignty of the people was consecrated in France by the most powerful lie volution which ever occurred in the 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 — lias 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 expected that the policy of the following days would have been as loyal as the conquest itself, and that the destinies of France would have been established forever; instead of this, the country has DEFENSE OF LOUIS NArOLEOX. 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 least the duty of making an appeal to the nation, and inquiring what was its will. 1 thought also that it* in the midst of the national congress which .1 in¬ tended to convene, certain pretensions should have made themselves heard, I should have had the right to re-awaken the glorious souvenirs of the empire; to 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, ‘ lie- 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 you a principle, a cause, and a defeat. The principle .s the sovereignty of the people; the cause is that of 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 4! No, then, there is no dis-accord between you and >*ie; and I will not believe that I can be destined to be rrieved by the disaffection of any others. 226 LOUIS NAPOLLON AND IIIS TIMES. “ 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 l’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, lie 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 salute you with their acclamations, as if you were still alive ; but the courtiers of the day, while render¬ ing you homage, say with suppressed breath — ‘God grant, he may not awake!’ You have at length seen again these French, whom you loved so much ; you have returned again into that France, which you made bo great; but foreigners have left their trace, which 228 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND ITTS TOLLS. 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, sire, regret them not! They have denied your gospel, your glory and your blood ; when I have spoken to them of your cause, they have said to me, ‘\Ve 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 ray 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 Hapoleon Bonapakte.” Louis Hapoleon 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 Ilam is one of great antiquity, the place having been occupied as a military station as early as the time when the legions of Julius Cajsai were in possession of the country. Portions of the castle, still remaining, were constructed in the fourth century. On the plains in its neighborhood, the wild THE CONSTABLES TOWER. 229 and warlike Iluns, 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 Ilam; 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 XI., and fearful that matters might go the length of an open breach, he bethought him of building this gigantic tower of one hundred feet in height, the same in diameter, with walls thirty feet in thickness, in whose capacious sides were constructed various cham¬ bers. A w r ide moat or ditch formeidy 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 scorn,” 230 LOUIS napoleon: AND Ills TIMES. lie expressed in dissembling language, bis admira¬ tion of its noble masonry, and not long after, in affec¬ tionate terms, invited its enterprising projector to Paris, where the confiding S't. 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 continued to live for a long period of years, in chains, supported by the fervor of his prayers alone! His body had become so hardened, so 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 w r ho, 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 TIIE LOVERS OF PICARDV. 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; w T ith a love 6uch 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 w r as 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 HIS TIMES. 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 adopted all possible means to overcome the love of his nephew. Failing in this he urged the maid to submit to the young man’s unlawful passion, and made offers of great wealth as a compensation for the sacrifice of her honor. But the virtue of the poor girl was not less deeply rooted in her heart, than her passion. The 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. The girl wept, groaned, and evinced symptoms of the most violent despair. The young man became desperate, and asked her the cause of such extraordinary agitation, such lively grief. He wished to know it, and to know it on the instant, without dissimulation or concealment. His voice was THE 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 Revolution of 1789 took place, and he was liberated ; but forgot¬ ten, and disavowed by his kindred, he had neither a resting-place nor bread. The people of Ham took pity on his condition, and committed him to the care of a poor woman to provide for his wants. Her care was not long needed, for he died in about three months afterward. He would probably have lived a longer time had not liberty, a stranger so completely un¬ known, come unexpectedly upon him, to derange and alter all the melancholy habits of his life. At the commencement of his sojourn in the citadel of 11am, Louis Napoleon occupied the rooms which had been appropriated to Polignac, the minister of Charles X. These apartments were in a complete 6tate of dilapidation, and comfort was as carefully 234 LOUIS NArOLEON AND HIS TIMES. excluded from this melancholy abode as light itsel No person was permitted to visit him, on any pretense without a letter from the government at Paris, cour tersigned by the principal magistrate of Ham. Hi only servant, who had voluntarily entered the fortres with his master, was not allowed to leave it even t( purchase articles for his subsistence or health. Fo: some months Louis Napoleon patiently endured thi; rigor, and the privations of his daily allowance froir the government of only a dollar and a quarter of oui money : but in May, 1841, he addressed a protest froir the citadel of Ham, complaining that in his person the usages of all nations, in the treatment of political offenders, were outrageously violated. The prisonei 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 1 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 PRISON OCCUPATIONS. 235 the captive was henceforth materially improved, and though he still inhabited the dilapidated chambers that had been occupied by the infamous minister of Charles X., his valet, Charles Thelin, was allowed free egress to the town, and upon the failure of his health Louis Napoleon was permitted horse exercise within the limits of the yard. Jailers are proverbial reflectors of the powers they serve, and the commandant of the citadel now frequently, 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 breakfast, at ten. lie 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 AND HIS TIMES. 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/’inwhich 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. Bis literary pursuits not only afforded him occupation, hut 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 Ilam, 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 success. LITERARY LABORS OF LOUIS NAPOLEON. 237 'he committee representing the interests of the sugar lanufacturers, who were engaged in urging upon the overnment the necessity of protecting their industry, ad who rejected the idea of a proposed compensation >r the suppression of their trade, were about to draw p a paper to lay before the government and the hambers, with a view to convince both of the ad- intages of preparing sugar from beet-root, and of the ghts and claims of the manufacturers to protection, his committee, having been informed of the existence ‘ a pamphlet on this question, published by the pris- ler of Ham, found, on examination, that the Prince’s iper presented the merits of the question in a manner i! clear and concise, that they relinquished the idea of uy other publication. They found their own ideas "mpletely and admirably stated. In consequence of is opinion, the committee requested the author to ace 3,000 copies at the disposal of the society, to istribute them among the members of the government, i d other parties interested. “In misfortune it is natural to think of those who ffFer,” said Louis Napoleon, in the preface of a work < the “Extinction of Pauperism,” which he published i 1844. It was certainly magnanimous, and highly lnorable to the Prince, that in the midst of the annoy- i ces and sufferings of captivity, he should occupy his tiughts with studying the best means for either reme- (ing or mitigating the evils which afflicted many of h fellow-countrymen. The political economists of Europe seem to regard juperism as a necessary evil, and affirm that all 6:iety can or ought to do is to repress it, for they 238 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. consider its extinction to be impossible. They woulc suppress mendicity by punishing paupers almost as it they were robbers, without even thinking of the possi bility of bringing about a condition of things in whicl there need be no mendicant, by making a place foi 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 whollj intended, the policy of the European government!: 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 tc 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 band 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. Ilis 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 continued until, early 240 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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, January 14, 1846. “Sike, — It is not without deep emotion that I ap¬ proach your Majesty, and ask, as a favor, permission to quit France, even for a short time. For five years I have found, in breathing the air of my country, ample compensation for the torments of captivity ; but my father is now aged and infirm, and calls for my LETTER OF THIERS. 241 attentions and care, lie has applied to persons known tor 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. “Hapoleon Louis Bonaparte.” He also wrote numerous letters to ministers, cour¬ tiers, and persons of influence, and received, among others, the following in reply from M. Thiers: “Prince, — I have received the letter which you have done me the honor to address to me, in order to make me acquainted with the refusal which has been given to your request. It seems to me, that the desire of seeing a dying father, accompanied by the promise of returning to prison on the first requisition of the Minister of the Interior, ought to have been regarded as sufficient. In my opinion, such a measure might have been adopted without inconvenience, upon the responsibility of the minister who had sanctioned it. I am sorry, Prince, not to have it in my power to be of any use to you whatever in these circumstances.. I 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 AND HIS TIMES. 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. Thiers.” 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 tbe 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, 184:6, by the aid of his faithful friend, Dr. Conneau, and his valet, Thelin. The Prince gives the following account of the proceeding, so far as he was concerned, in a letter, addressed to M. de George, the editor of a paper, for which he had often written while in confinement: “My Dear M. de George, —My desire to see my father once more in this world, made me attempt the boldest enterprise I ever engaged in. It required more resolution and courage on my part than at Strasbourg and Boulogne, for I was determined not to submit to the ridicule that attaches to those who are arrested escap¬ ing under a disguise; and a failure I could not have 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. 243 L should first elude their vigilance, afterward traverse ;Le inside court, before the windows of the command- mt’s residence; and arriving there, I should be obliged ;o pass by a gate which was guarded by soldiers. “Not wishing to communicate my design to any one, t was necessary to disguise myself. As several rooms n the part of the building I occupied were undergoing •epairs, 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 hoes,) and, after shaving off my moustaches, I took a blank on my shoulders. “On Monday morning I saw the workmen enter, it half-past eight o’clock. Charles took them some 1 rink, in order that I should not meet any of them on ny passage. lie was also to call one of the gard¬ ens (turnkeys,) while Dr. Conneau conversed with the •tliers. Nevertheless, I had scarcely got out of my bom before I was accosted by a workman, who took le for one of his comrades, and, at the bottom of the tairs I found myself in front of the keeper. Fortu- ately, I placed the plank 1 was carrying before my ice, and succeeded in reaching the yard. Whenever passed a sentinel, or any other person, I always kept le plank before my face. “Passing before the first sentinel, I let my pipe til. and stopped to pick up the bits. There I met ie officer on duty, but, as he was reading a letter, he id not pay attention to me. The soldiers at the uard-house appeared surprised at my dress, and a rummer turned round several times to look at me. I iext met some workmen, who looked very attentively ; me. I placed the plank before my face, but they opeared to be so curious, that I thought I should aver escape them, until I heard them cry, ‘ Oh! it is crnard! ’ “Once outside, I walked quickly toward the road of ;. Quentin. Charles, who, the day before, had en- iged a carriage, shortly overtook me, and we arrived St. Quentin. I passed through the town on foot, ‘ter having thrown off my smock-frock. Charles 244 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. procured a post-chaise, under pretext of going to Cara brai. We arrived, without meeting with any obstacles at Valenciennes, where I took the railway. I hac procured a Belgian passport, but nowhere was I askec to show it. “ During my escape, Dr. Conneau, always so de voted to me, remained in prison, and caused them t( believe I was ill, in order to give me time to reach tin frontier. It w T as necessary, before I could be per suaded to quit France, to be convinced that the gov eminent would never set me at liberty, unless I woulc consent to dishonor myself. It was also a matter oi duty that I should exert all my powers to be able tc 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 maj be judged of from the fact that, by aiding his patron’s escape, he pdaced himself again in the hands of tin law for an indefinite period. Dr. Conneau, then, tc whose affectionate devotion it is impossible to refuse s 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 tc do, he remained in the fortress, in order to conceal, bj 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, ii STRATAGEM OF DR. CONNEAU. 245 )rder to give him time to escape. I was anxious, if oossible, in this way to gain at least twenty-four hours. ,L first of all closed the door leading from the Prince’s chamber into the saloon. I kindled a strong fire, al- •hough, in fact, the weather was extremely hot, to lountenance the supposition that the Prince was ill; vith the same intent I put the coffee-pot on the fire, ind told the man-of-all-work that the Prince was indis¬ posed. About eight o’clock, a packet of violet plants irrived by the diligence. I told the keeper to fill some jots with earth, and prevented him from entering the ’rince’s saloon. About half-past eight o'clock the nan-of-all-work came and asked me where we would ireakfast. ‘ In my room,’I replied. ‘I shall fetch the arge table,’ he said. I answered, ‘That is unnecessary ; he General is ill, and will not breakfast with us.’ “My intention was, in this manner, to push off fur- her knowledge till the next day. I said the Prince ad taken medicine. It was absolutely necessary that should be taken — accordingly I took it myself. I itended to have given him a bath — this was itnpossi- le, on account of the workmen. I then thought of an metic, and attempted myself to perform the conse- uent functions; but that was impossible. I then took )ine coffee and threw it into a pot of water, with some umbs of bread, and added nitric acid, which pro- iced a very disagreeable smell; so that our man-of- 1-work might be persuaded that the Prince was ally ill. “About half-past twelve I saw the commandant for e second time, and informed him that the Prince was unewhat easier. The commandant looked at the irks, and offered to send me his servant, in conse- uence of Thelin’s absence. About one o’clock I told daplace to come and make the Prince’s bed. -Every Ine that I came out of the small saloon, in which the . ince was supposed to be lying on a sofa, I pretended t be speaking to him ; the man-of-all-work did not lar me — if his ears had been at all delicate, he would 1 ve been able perfectly to hear me speaking. “The day passed on very well till a quarter past 246 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND I1IS TIMES. seven o’clock. At this moment the commandant ei tered, with an air somewhat stern. ‘The Prince is little better, Commandant.’ ‘If,’ he exclaimed, ‘th Prince is still ill, I must speak to him — I must spea to the Prince!’ I had prepared a large stuffed figun and laid it in the Prince’s bed, with the head restin upon the pillow. I called the Prince — who, naturall enough, made no reply. I retired toward the cou mandant, and indicated to him, by a sign, that tb Prince was asleep. This did not satisfy him. He si down in the saloon, saying, ‘The Prince will not slee forever — I will wait.’ “He remarked to me, that the time of the arrival o the diligence was passed, and expressed his wonde that Tlielin was not returned ; I explained to him ths he had taken a cabriolet. The drum beat, and th commandant rose and said, ‘The Prince has moved i his bed ; he is waking up.’ “The commandant stretched his ear, but did nothea him breathe. I did the same, and said, ‘Let him slee on.’ He drew near the bed, and found a stuffed figurt He immediately turned toward me and said, ‘Th Prince is gone! At what hour?’ ‘At seven in th morning.’ ‘ Who were the persons on guard ?’ ‘I knoi nothing.’ These were the only words which wer interchanged between us: the commandant left th CJ room.” A brief imprisonment of only three months wa imposed upon Dr. Conneau for his participation in th escape of Louis Napoleon. Thelin, for some indis creet and not very respectful language respecting tlij authorities, on his trial, was sentenced to six month imprisonment. The commandant of the fortress wa acquitted. After arriving in London, the Prince wrot to the French embassador in England, and to a memhe of the British ministry, explaining his motives an< intentions. To the French embassador he said—“L 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 issurance 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 — ivas not attained, for the Austrian embassador at Lon- lon, who was also the representative of Tuscany, where he Count of St. Leu was residing, positively refused o sign his passport. Application was then made to Leopold, Grand Duke of Tuscany, but he replied that he influence of France compelled him to decline per- nitting Louis FLapoleon to visit his father. The Count )f St. Leu had been living, for some weeks, in the hope )f at length dying in his son’s arms. lie survived, ndy a short time, the intelligence that this consolation vas denied to him. lie died on the 25th of July, 1S46. CHAPTER V. REVOLUTION OF 1848. On Monday, February 21, 1848, it appeared t< every casual observer, that there existed in Europe s powerful kingdom called France. Its monarch, sur rounded by an accomplished and numerous family supported by a vast army ; sustained by an almos unanimous Chamber of Deputies; possessing the cor dial attachment of the House of Peers ; having ai overwhelming force of friends among the moneye* classes; and with an electoral body, an immense ma jority of whom w r ere enthusiastic adherents' to his dyj nasty, and his policy ; he seemed to be placed beyon* the reach of misfortune. The accidental whim of a me ment, in the Revolution of 1830, had made this man . king. That Revolution had been effected less by th organized efforts of the republicans, than by the spot taneous indignation of the middle classes, at the des potic policy pursued by the government of Charles 5 The aristocracy were more powerful than the repul licans, and declared for another monarchy; but t appease the disappointment of the latter class, till monarchy, it was said, should be one surrounded b democratic institutions, and Louis Philippe was to b a citizen-king! The republicans were never reconcile! to this defeat. They, and the majority of the workini REVIEW OF LOUIS PHILIPPE’S REIGN. 249 classes, had fought for a republic, and they looked upon themselves as deceived, tricked and ignomini- ously vanquished. But they were not disheartened. After a few unorganized attempts at revolution, they gave up, for the time, the system of insurrectionary movements, and determined to adhere to that far surer instrument, the pen, which they relied on to ultimately give them a complete victory. They wrote, talked, and industriously spread their doctrines. They also counted much on the errors of those in power. They were confident that Louis Philippe, as soon as he should feel himself secure on the throne, would labor for his own aggrandizement, rather than for the welfare of France, and that the unpopularity and hatred at¬ tendant upon his administration would strengthen the republican ranks. And they were right. While the spirit of insurrection was yet alive, Louis Philippe aimed at conciliating the republicans; but no sooner was this crushed, than he exhibited the same tenden¬ cies that had characterized the Bourbon dynasty. His policy was then to turn back the tide of democracy, and firmly seat his heirs on the throne of France. His first step was to separate from the republicans who had been the instruments of his elevation. Some he treated coldly; he dismissed others from office. With the good Lafayette he provoked an unwarrantable quarrel. The strength thus lost he endeavored to replace by the actual purchase of new adherents. All the arts of corruption were put in practice. Some persons, less scrupulous than ambitious, rushed forward and met bribery half way — others, who held out for a time, 250 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. were finally swept along by the current. Every mar of literary reputation, who would sell himself to the government, was gorged with offices and loaded with honorary decorations. Every rising young man, of the least promise, was lured to the same dishonorable distinction. Those only could resist the seduction whose virtue was superior to their eagerness for ad¬ vancement. The deplorable effect of this policy 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 OF LOUIS PHILIPPE. 251 The life of Louis Philippe was one of cold and un¬ 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 shed blood even for the gravest political crimes, and that he •was sincerely desirous of maintaining the peace of Europe. Credit for these virtues are due to him, though both tended to the security of his throne. Prosperity is always attendant upon peace, and during the reign of Louis Philippe, France was eminently prosperous. The condition of 252 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIME3. 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 1300,000,000. 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 bold 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 oft' 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. with the idea which now actuated the prefect of police, guided, as he was, by the cabinet, legality was of little moment. Scarcely had the printers re-assembled at the house which had been generously placed at their disposal, ere some hundreds of soldiers, municipal guards, and a commissary of police, presented them¬ selves anew, entered the printer’s house, and forcibly dispersed the assembly. Other assemblies were dis¬ solved in the same arbitrary and illegal manner. The king’s speech, at the opening of the Chambers, December 28, 1847, closed with a contemptuous allu¬ sion to these banquets. On the 19th of the following January, the address of the Peers, in reply to the king’s speech, was carried by a large majority. One of the paragraphs of the address was directed against the reform banquets. “ Noisy manifestations, (said the Peers,) in which are blindly mingled vague ideas of reform and of progress, passions hostile to our mon¬ archical constitution, opinions subversive of 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 misgivings, to agitate the people still further. Hitherto, the banquets had been held only in the REFORM BANQUET IN PARIS. 255 provinces, and after all the inflammatory speeches that had been made at them, not more than 200,000 per¬ sons, out of a population of more than 31,000,000, had been induced to petition for reform. But the Parisians ■nger to brave the storm that gathered over his head. 1 ut one hope was left. He might abdicate in favor of 1 is 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 pu/died her aside and wrote—“I lay down the Crown 12 266 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. winch the wbll 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 kino-. A lad ascended the throne, turned round to the people, and putting his hand on bis 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 RErCBLIC DEMANDED. 267 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 Robin obtained a hearing. He declared that a regency was impossible. lie 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 oeople burst into the hall. Still, amid the confusion, a ist of names for the formation of a provisional govern- nent was adopted. From the office of the Reforvie lewspaper, the organ of the ultra republicans, another ist was sent out. By an arrangement, the two rival 263 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. bodies met at the Il6tel de Ville — the government office — and agreed upon a compromise, at first by choosing four of the newspaper set to be secretaries to the other body, but a few days afterward by admitting these four to full membership, the decrees being signed by the whole number without distinction. Ho 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 nen 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 Hotel 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. PROCLAMATION TO TIIE PEOPLE. 269 PROCLAMATION OF THE PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT. “to THE FRENCH people. “A retrograde and oligarchical government has been overthrown by the heroism of the people of Paris. This government has tied, 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 21, 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- Rollin, Gamier Pages, and Marie. “The government has for its secretaries Messrs. Armand-Marrast, Ferdinand Flocon, Louis Blanc, and Albert. “ The citizens have not hesitated an instant to ac¬ cept the patriotic mission which was imposed by the urgency of the case. “ When blood has flowed, when the capital of Frawce 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IllS TIKES. 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 w T ou the admiration and the enconiums of the world. His name will stand on the page of history, among the greatest and noblest LAMAKTINK. 271 statesmen of the nineteenth century. Wise, firm, be¬ nevolent and disinterested, he resisted the rash claims of 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 XYI., 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 w T as 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. in the way. “It is Saturday, (said he,) and I’ve not prepared a line of my to-morrow’s sermon. And to compose a good sermon, (added he, smiling,) is no joke. It will take me all the rest of the day, and it may be, an hour or two of the night.” “ Oh, if that’s all, (cried Alphonse, who was then but twelve years of age, and wdio 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 LAMARTIXE 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. lie was already dream¬ ing of literary, especially of dramatic, renown, and was a favorite with Talma, the greatest of French tra¬ gedians, who w r as 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 charge d’affaires. At London he mar¬ ried a rich English heiress, by whom he had one daughter. After the Revolution of 1830, he aspired to a seat in the Chamber of Deputies, but being re¬ jected by the constituency before whom he presented himself, he undertook an oriental journey with his wife and child. While in Asia, he received the announce¬ ment of his election as a deputy from Dunkirk, and 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 I.OUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. of tolerance, of morality, and of the poor. lie rap¬ idly rose to the position of one of the first orators of France. Ilis 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 LOUIS PHILIPPE IN EXILE. 275 sympathies — and Louis Blanc, an enthusiast and a socialist, — these were the most conspicuous members of the provisional government. Louis Philippe and all the various members of his numerous household escaped safely to England, and took up their residence at Claremont. The provisional government, instead of making any arrests, seemed to prefer that all might leave France without molestation. In exile, the peculiar excellencies and graces of Louis Philippe’s character were exhibited in a favor¬ able light. However grave the errors of his adminis¬ tration, however reprehensible his conduct as a king, in his family and in his social intercourse he was un¬ usually affectionate and winning. Those who saw him around his domestic hearth or met him in society, could not fail to admire him. On his arrival in Eng¬ 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND I ITS TIMES. of diction, a copiousness of information, and, .above all, with an unreserve and a frankness that surprised those who were not already intimate with him. His conversation was as diversified as his visitors, and, amusing and often instructive to all, it was appropriate to each. Ilis owu 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, tire 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, Rome, 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 lit tle 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 i)9 i,ouis philippe’s domestic life. 277 parting word of condolence — no regret—not even a remembrance— nothing? ” All bis children and grandchildren, even the very youngest, dined at the same time and table with Louis Philippe. lie 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. lie himself was moderate, though not abstemious, both in eating and drinking ; and im¬ mediately at the end of the dessert, all retired from table at a movement by the queen, and followed their majesties into the saloon. This was the joyous hour for the children. One of the elder princes would amuse them with some new toy — a magic lantern, a lottery, or some general game — or they would riot about the room, and escalade and storm the king’s chair as if it were a breach in a fortress. This seemed to delight the king. The queen, the princesses and the ladies, worked at a round table ; sometimes her majesty had a table of whist. The king generally sat in another part of the room, and either read the newspapers or conversed — especially with any visitors. If, amidst the vast variety of his conversation, a doubt should happen to occur on any topic, he would appeal to the 27S LOUIS NAPOLEON ANT) TITS TIMES. 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. • lie 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 his 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 king received the announcement with — for a moment—• something of incredulous surprise and regret, but quickly recovered his composure, and accepted his louis puilippe’s deatii-bed. 279 destiny with the calmness and resolution which had characterized his whole life. lie remained alone with the queen for some time ; no one can tell what passed between that royal couple, than wdiich there has sel¬ dom existed one in any rank of life so long, so 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, he saw the aged couple — the king sitting in his usual chair, and the queen standing opposite to him — motionless and tearless, with eyes fixed on each other—like statues. Not a word was spoken till the king, with a firm yet inter¬ rupted voice, addressed to her some words of love and consolation. These he repeated with an increasing tenderness of voice two or three times. He then recollected that about four months before, he had been writing some notes—relative to his return to France in 1814: — and said that he had stopped in the middle of an anecdote which he wished to have finished. He asked for the bunch of keys he always wore, and told General Dumas, who was then in attend¬ ance, to go to a certain cabinet where he wrnuld 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 LOU 18 NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. the king said, “My hand is already too cold to write hut I will dictate to you.” The general sat down a the bedside and began to write; and then followec two small incidents which showed the perfect — the minute — possession of his faculties even in that awfu moment. Without looking at the paper, or askiru what was the last word he had written, four months previous, he went on with his narrative with the verj 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 maim-' 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 tliis 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND I1IS TIMES. 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! Representatives of the people! the pro¬ visional government of the Republic comes to incline itself before the nation, and to render conspicuous homage to the supreme power with which you are in¬ vested. Elect of the people! welcome to the great capital where your presence excites a sentiment of happiness and hope that will not be disappointed. Depositaries of the national sovereignty, you are about to found new institutions upon the wide basis of de¬ mocracy, and to give to France the only constitution that is suitable to her — that of Republic. But after having proclaimed the grand political law, which is henceforth to definitively constitute the country, you will endeavor to employ the efficacious action of the government, as far as possible, in the relations that the necessity of labor establishes among all citizens, and which ought to have for a base the holy laws of justice and fraternity. In fine, the moment has arrived for the provisional government to place in your hands the unlimited power with which it was invested by the Revolution. For us, the dictatorship was only treated as a moral power in the midst of the difficult circum¬ stances we have traversed. Faithful to our origin and our personal convictions, we have all been called to proclaim the rising Republic of February. To-day we inaugurate the labors of the assembly, with the cry that always rallies us together, ‘ Vive la Republique!' 1 ' 1 ' 1 Immediately after the organization of the Rational Assembly, Lamartine, Arago, Gamier Pages, Marie and Ledru-Rollin were elected an executive council to administer the government. Numerous delegations ATTEMPTED INSURRECTION. 283 from clubs and associations entertaining extreme opin¬ ions on political questions, tilled the galleries of the balls, 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 aew constitution. This was generally the case with ;hose who held radical — and especially with those who leld extravagant notions in regard to the attitude vhich the government justly bears toward the laborers. The more enlightened, discreet and moderate of what nay be called the so'cialist party, took no part in these violent attempts to overawe the Assembly. But the gnorant workmen, feeling that the rights of the masses iad always been sacrificed to promote the interests of avored classes, and fearing that the wrongs under vhich they had smarted were to be continued by the lew government, fully determined to obtain justice, hough without any definite idea of the measares lecessary to accomplish that end; and having their pprehensions excited and their passions aroused by mbitious and unscrupulous demagogues, were con tantly creating disturbances and embarrassing the ction of the government. As early as the 15th of lay, a band of rioters actually invaded the Assembly— eclared its dissolution — and proceeded to the forma- on of a new provisional government. But they were irrounded by the National Guards, defeated, and their laders were arrested. Yet the dangerous position of le government was by no means ended by the sup- ression of this insurrectionary movement. The lousands of workmen who had been temporarily nployed by the government, seeing that they would 284 I.0UI9 NAPOLICON AND HIS TIMES. soon be without regular means of support, furnisher ready material for the designs of those parties win aspired to the ascendancy. For more than a montl the city remained in a disturbed and anxious state which increased from day to day, until the 23d oi June, when another insurrection, more violent anc 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 wen armed for the struggle. The crisis was a fearful one The national executive committee w r ere powerless. Its members had formed the provisional government, and as such, immediately after the overthrow of Louis' Philippe, had restored peace to Paris and to the nation by offering 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 PARIS. 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 236 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. ex-king and his family. At the passage of this decret 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 Lncien ; 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 their 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 TKIKCE A DELEGATE. 287 the wish of the provisional government, to return to a foreign country after having hastened to Paris upon the first news of the Revolution? Can it be because I disinterestedly refused seats in the Assembly which were proffered to me, resolved not to return to France until the new constitution should be agreed upon, and the republic firmly established? “The same reasons which have made me take up arms against the government of Louis Philippe, would lead me, if my services were required, to devote myself to the defense of the Assembly, the result of universal suffrage. “In the presence of a king elected by two hundred deputies, I might have recollected that I was heir to an empire founded by the consent of four millions of Frenchmen. In the presence of the national sove¬ reignty I can, nor will claim more than my rights as a French citizen ; but there, I will demand them with that energy which an honest heart derives from the knowledge of never having done any thing to render it unworthy of its country. “Receive, gentlemen, the assurance of my sentiments of high esteem. Your fallen citizen, “Napoleon Louis Bonaparte.” 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, — Your suffrages fij? me with gratitude. This mark of sympathy, which is the more flattering as I had not solicited it, found me at a moment ivhen 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 ihe is now placed. 2S8 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. “The confidence you have reposed in me imposes duties which I shall know how to fulfill. Our in¬ terests, our sentiments, our aspirations, are the same. A native of Paris, and now a representative of the people, I shall join my efforts to those of my colleagues in order to re-establish order, public credit, and indus¬ try ; to insure peaceful relations abroad; to consoli¬ date democratic institutions ; and to conciliate interests which now seem to be adverse to one another, simply because they suspect one another, and clash, instead of marching together toward a single object — that of the prosperity and grandeur of the country. “ The people have been 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 w r orld the grand spectacle of a people regenerating itself without vio¬ lence, without civil contests, without anarchy. “ Receive, my dear fellow-citizens, the assurance of my 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. He said — “I wish that my dis¬ interestedness 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 PKLNCELY DELEGATE RECEIVED. ’ 289 votes, and also from Tonne, Moselle, Cliarente, 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. lie 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. Viellard, 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, some miserable parody of his wonderful uncle’ll 290 LOUI8 NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. manner, that would have raised a laugh fatal to his popularity. He did quite the reverse. Ilis manner was unassuming, his remarks w r ere 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,— “Flow little do those who charge me with ambition know my heart!” Yet two weeks afterward Louis Napoleon was publicly announced as a candidate for the presidency. ADDRESS TO THE 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 w T ar; 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 its acts. “I pledge my honor to leave to my successor, at the end of four years, the executive powers strengthened, liberty intact, and a real progress accomplished. “Whatever may be the result of the election, I shall bow to the will of the people; and I pledge before¬ hand, my co-operation with any strong and honest government which shall re-establish order in principles is well as in things ; which shall efficiently protect our religion, our families, and our properties—the eternal 292 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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, wil permit a reduction of those taxes which press most heavily on the people—to encourage enterprises which, while they develop agricultural wealth, may, both ii France and Algeria, give work to hands at present unoccupied —to provide for the relief of laborers ir their old age, by means of provident institutions —1( introduce into industrial laws, modifications which may' tend not to ruin the rich for the gain of the poor, bu to establish the well-being of each upon the prosperity of all. “To restrict within just limits the number of einj ployments which shall depend upon the government: and which often convert a free people into a natioij of beggars. “To avoid that deplorable tendency which leads tin state to do that which individuals may do as well, ano better, for themselves. The centralization of interest and enterprises is in the nature of despotism: tin nature of a republic is to reject monopolies. “Finally, to protect the liberty of the press from thj two excesses which endanger it at present — that oj arbitrary authority on the one hand, and of its owi 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. Row 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 1 should bring to bear upon the functions of govern- nent, if you were to call me to the presidency of he republic. “The task is a difficult one — the mission immense. [ know' it. But I should not despair of accomplishing t; inviting to my aid, without distinction of party, all nen who, by their high intelligence or their probity, iave recommended themselves to public esteem. “For indeed, when a man has the honor to be at the lead of the French nation, there is an infallible way to ■ucceed, and that is to desire to do so. “ Louis Rapoleon Bonaparte.” The remaining candidates for the presidency were 294 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND UIS TIMES. General Cavaignac, Lamartine, Ledru-Rollin, 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 w T ith that concen¬ trated intensity of purpose which would not allow him to ward off the balls flying about his head. TIIE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. 295 Elevated to the head of the government, lie applied himself to the study of foreign affairs, and having satisfied his mind that peace was for the interests of France, he determined that no earthly consideration should induce him to entangle the country in a war, so long as her honor was not affected. Taking the lead in every debate, he never said a word more than was essential for the purpose of making known the views of government. Nor would he have spoken at all if he did not deem it to be his duty to accept, frankly, the burden that had been placed on his shoulders. Regarding situations exactly as they were, he recognized that, pending the proposition of the con¬ stitution, his government was only provisional ; that the Assembly was master, and that he should, as in duty bound, execute the wishes of the Assembly so long as he held its confidence. The election of General Cavaignac to the presidency of the republic was by his partisans deemed secure. He was a man whom no situation had taken by sur¬ prise; and as all situations had been met and filled with perfect ability, the measure of such a man’s ca¬ pacity could not even yet be said to have been reached. New trials were before the republic, and there was the man, who, holding a true, straightforward course, and taking things as he found them, could yet adapt himself to an encounter with any difficulty with mar¬ velous plasticity. At the prime of life—tall, well- forraed, and dignified; with the proud head of a Coriolanus, and the sensibility of the stoical Brutus. His quickness to feel suspicion or slight, explains why he shunned occasions for display. This characteristic 296 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 b} 7 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 step was, to RESULT OF TIIE 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 The Citizen Lediu-Rollin. 370,110 The Citizen Raspail. 36,920 The Citizen Lamartine. 17,810 General Cavaignac rose, and without preface, handed in the resignation of ministers, adding simply, “I came also to resign into the hands of the Assembly the power with which it was good enough to invest me. The Assembly will comprehend, much better than I can express, the sentiments of gratitude that its confidence and kindness have ineffaceably engraved on my memory.” A burst of enthusiastic plaudits accompanied the gallant General to his seat. The suc¬ cessful candidate was then proclaimed president of the republic, and after a short address, delivered with fervor — an address conceived in the most unostenta¬ tious language, and breathing of peace and concord, Louis Napoleon descended from the tribune and walked to the place where sat his honored rival, whose hand he respectfully took and pressed, amidst renewed applause. The Assembly needed no fresh proof of the magnanimity of Cavaignac; but the behavior of Louis Napoleon at this, the first hour of his triumph, pro¬ duced a most favorable impression, and tended to remove many prejudices. 13* CHAPTER YI. 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 MONARCHY. 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. lie was apparently the agent of Providence for the punishment of a long course of kingly guilt. lie 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. fancied security, to flee from Lis palace and from his kingdom. France accepted another king, lie 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 impoverished exiles are as rapidly and unexpectedly snatched from their obscurity and poverty, and invested with supreme power and unlimited wealth! The kings of the earth are not commonly undone by a single blow; kingdoms THE EMPRESS 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 Rome. Maria Louisa at the time of her marriage with Na¬ poleon, in 1810, was nineteen years of age, tall and fair, but not beautiful. She had been taught, like all princesses, to embroider, to paint, and to play on the piano. Beyond this she was educated in little else than hatred of Bonaparte and the French; for the king-slayers had been twice at the gates of her father. Austria had twice lost all, and had nothing to give, when the lion roared for more prey, except her own flesh and blood. So Maria Louisa was yielded up. The mild creature never had an independent wish of her own ; she never knew how to show any reluctance to other people’s demands. She had been taught to hate, and she 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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. Ilis solicitations that she shoidd join him were disregarded. From the first instant of her departure from Paris, no symptom of affection for her husband, or sympathy for hi6 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 Maples, 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 w r as increased by the artful postponement of its enjoyment. The allies re¬ quired her to divest herself of her proud titles; to forget her husband ; to deliver all his letters into her father’s hands; to cease from all correspondence with him; to surrender her son to an Austrian governess; to renounce, in his name, all rights of succession to the French throne; to rebaptize him as Charles Joseph, Duke of Reichstadt; and to suffer him to linger be¬ hind, in a kind of imprisonment, at Schonbrunn. Her obedience outdid even the immoderateness of their MARIA 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 Reichstadt, were centered the hopes of the Bonapartists. 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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, Piacenza, 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 Piacenza into the moat beneath, yet the sovereignty remained in possession of his descendants, some of whom became famous, or infamous, in history. Like mar;A 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 soul of the carnival. Her theaters, her menageries and aviaries ; her superb villas and magnificent train; her regiment of grenadiers ; her profuse liberality to mimes and charlatans,— before long exhausted her revenue. Already, at her arrival, the new duchess had been preceded by a decree raising a sum of $600,000, with which her subjects 'were to pay for the honor of receiving an Austrian archduchess for their liege lady. Ever afterward, money went over to Austria, under a thousand pretexts, and without pre¬ texts. It was now a tribute of vassalage, now a 306 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. bargain of allegiance. Parmesan manufactures were closed, as injurious to Austrian industry. Parmesan steamboats on the Po were stopped, as encroaching on Austrian commerce. Ignorance and filial submissive- ness might account for this mismanagement of her subjects’ interests. She knew she could do no better. But the amount of her own prodigality, and the foolish expenses of her endless journeyings, were not less fatal to the state than the insatiate cupidity of Austria. She was never long in her own dominions, blow 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, lapdoge 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. 1 But Neipperg died in 1828, and Maria Louisa was free again to select her favorites. TIIE SON OF BONAPARTE. 307 During the revolutions of 1838, the successor of Neipperg, for the time being, was a Baron Yerclein, who was far from being popular with the Parmese. He and his mistress were driven from the duchy. She was finally permitted to return, but the favorite was not. Instead, she was constrained to accept of one Mistrali, as principal minister of state. This able and conscientious man undertook to repair the shattered finances of the principality; and by a wise and firm rule he got his sovereign out of debt. The duchess herself was the first victim of the minister’s economical schemes. He reduced her household; bullied her singers and fiddlers from the court; car¬ 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. 4 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. life, lie 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-Franqois, he was to assume the name and title of Francis Joseph Charles, Duke of Reichstadt, rank¬ ing, by virtue of that title, among the nobility of the Austrian empire, immediately after the princes of the imperial family, the archdukes of Austria. Only three years of age when he went with his mother to reside at Scbonbrunn, the young Duke of Reichstadt spent the whole remainder of his life either there or at Vienna; only on one or two occasions traveling from either beyond the distance of a few miles. By his 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 Btill 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 Vienna who had had personal relations with the Emperor, he was uneasy till he had seen him. At last, to gratify this anxiety for information about his father, his tutors, at his grandfather’s command, began to instruct him systematically in modern history and politics; concealing from him nothing that could enlighten him as to the Teal 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, 6uch as Tasso and Ossian, became, for that 310 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. reason, his favorites. Ilis 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 w r ay 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 review's and parades; the Viennese pointing him out to strangers on such occasions, as the son of Napoleon. When, at last, after going through the previous grades, he was permitted by his grandfather to assume the rank and uniform of a lieutenant-colonel, his delight was unbounded. For three days the poor youth appeared at the head of his regiment, giving the word of command ; on the fourth he w'as 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 solemn injunctions that they should be true the one to 312 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. the other; and where, even yet, there were myriads of veteran hearts that beat high at the name of Bonaparte. Ilis 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 Revolution 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 II. 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 of Reichstadt on his lips, was dexterously locked up in a room till the business was over. Communications were even con¬ veyed to the duke himself. When the news of the Revolution reached Vienna, the young man could not conceal his agitation ; he even requested, it is said, in the flutter of the moment, to be allowed to go to the assistance of Charles X. But with the news of the accession of Louis Philippe, other thoughts succeeded. One evening, as he was ascending a staircase in the imperial palace, a young woman, enveloped in a THE SON OF BONAPARTE. 313 Scotch plaid, rushed forward from a landing-place where she seemed to have been waiting, and taking his hand, pressed it eagerly to her lips. Ilis 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 ewn 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 314 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. physicians. Toward the end of the year 1831, be 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 ehamber. It had been resolved to remove him to Naples, should it be possible to do so, in the autumn of 1832; but the disease made such progress, that before that time the fatal result had taken place. For many weeks he had been in great pain, and incapable of any change of position, save that of being wheeled to a window-balconv 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 A r ienna, 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 BONAPARTE. 315 soldier-brother his 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 Freuch Revolution, which he cherished to his death. He was, speculatively, always a friend of freedom, and though the crown of two nations had graced his brow, and two others tendered to him — one in this our new world—were set aside by him, he did not, in power forget, so far as he was free to act, his early pledges. His career in France was rapid and brilliant. In 1796, he was the French embassador at Rome — sub¬ sequently a member of the Council of Five Hundred, and in 1800, a counselor of state, in which capacity he concluded a commercial treaty between France and the United States. He was the plenipotentiary who signed the treaty of Luneville, which gave peace 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 the famous camp of Boulogne. While there, the crown of Lombardy was offered to him, but he refused it because the Emperor made it a 316 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. condition of acceptance, that he should renounce his claim to the succession of the empire, and moreover that he should pay an annual tribute to France. In 1806, at the head of an army of 40,000 men, he was commissioned to overthrow the English and Rus¬ sian domination in Naples, and the throne of Queen Caroline. He easily and rapidly effected the conquest, and his own brow bore the crown which he had con¬ quered. His brief reign of two years was a succession of benefits to a people who had been long degraded by a most oppressive despotism. He founded civil and military schools, some of which yet exist — over¬ threw feudal privileges—suppressed the convents — opened new roads — caused the paupers of Naples to work and be paid—drained marshes—and every¬ where animated with new life and hope a people long sunk in abject servitude. Joseph was here in his ele¬ ment, for he loved to do good. From these scenes, so congenial to him, he was called by the Emperor in 1808, to Bayonne, and there the crown of Spain was forced upon him. In this new sphere he strove to adhere to his previous course, and by mildness and persuasion and benefits conferred, to conciliate the affection of Spain. He even besought the Emperor to withdraw all the French troops, trust¬ ing by frank and loyal conduct toward the Spaniards, to obtain their confidence and support. His request was not acceded to, and the hatred and jealousy of foreigners, which mark the Spanish character, exasper¬ ated by the clergy and encouraged by the presence of a large English army, rendered all Joseph’s efforts for a peaceful success, such as he had accomplished in JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 317 Naples, impossible. lie 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, 1S12, 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 1813-1-1, 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 Rheims, on the 16th of March, 1811, 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND niS TIMES. 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. SI 9 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 1810, 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. benefactions. Of most amiable and courteous man¬ ners, with admirable conversational powers, which lie 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 Ilortense. 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 EUCIEN BONAPARTE. 321 to keep open their shops except on every tenth day. Upon this occasion Lucien advocated the cause of Christianity. “Tolerance, (said lie,) is the sister of liberty; persecution the daughter of tyranny. What right have we to prevent a citizen from celebrating any day which may be indicated by his profession of faith? At Rome, an Israelite is not forced to work on a Saturday ; and shall we, the representatives of a free people, afford less scope for the unshackled exercise of religion than the sovereign pontiff?” When, in September, 1790, the debates took place on the motion of General Jourdan, for declaring the country in danger, Lucien opposed it with much talent and ingenuity. He declared, that the only mode of surmounting the crisis was, by intrusting a great ex¬ tent of power to the executive authority. IIe, 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 LOUIS NAFOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 Revolution of Brumaire, (9th November, 1799.) On that memora¬ ble day, when the legislative body held the extraordi¬ nary sitting at St. Cloud, he exerted every elfort 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 LIundred announces to you, that factious men, with daggers, have interrupted the deliberations of the Assembly. He authorizes you to employ force against these disturbers. The Assembly of Five Hundred is dissolved.” De Bourrienne, who was present, tells us, that perceiving a slight hesitation on the part of the troops, Lucien, drawing his sword, added, “I swear that I will plunge this into the bosom of my own brother, if he should ever aim a blow at the liberties of France.” LUCIEN BONAPARTE. 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. Ilis 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 feet 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 crown of Lombardy, he removed to Pesaro ; and, LUCIEN BONAPARTE. 325 in 1805, to Home, 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 madeXucien 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 Rome, 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 32G LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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, 1S09, 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. Ilis 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 tatter 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 I.UCIT'.N BONAPARTE. 327 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 6moke 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 Roman nobleman of taste; at once a patron of literature and an aspirant for literary honors. His great epic of “Charlemagne,” on which he spent many years, was published in two ponderous quartos, but failed to procure him the laurels he coveted. His principal literary attempts, in addition to the 32S LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. “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 Rome, the princess created quite a sensation by appearing in a magnificent set of ornaments that had been taken from the ancient tombs on her husband’s estate. Dying at Viterbo, in June, 1810, at the age of sixty- five, the Prince -of Canino left a numerous family of children, of various ages. Two daughters, the issue LOUIS BONAPARTE. 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, Laetitia, born in 1804, became the wife of an Irish gentleman f 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 bands; but not being sufficiently strong, he was drawn along with him, and both must have perished, had not JVIarmont, 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 Ilortense, 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 Louie; “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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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. Lie 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 hie 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 5et 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 :lraw up a uniform system of weights and measures; md though the good he thus intended was not at- hined during his reign, it has since been carried into complete effect. Besides these, Louis projected sundry imeliorations connected with the health of his subjects md the salubrity of the country. lie enlarged the oublic libraries, encouraged the fine arts, founded a aeneral Institution of Arts and Sciences, and created ;he order of Union and Merit, selecting for its device 334 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 wag 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 BONAPAKTE. 335 city.” Louis kept his word. lie 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 Eoyal University. Again, 1809, when a sudden inundation spread desolation over several districts, Louis was on the spot, performing the same beneficent ofiices. 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, “Empechez done la peau de transpirer!” — “You might as well forbid the skin to perspire!” When Napoleon was making arrangements to take possession of Spain, he conceived the design of trans¬ ferring Louis to the throne of that country. He ac¬ cordingly addressed a letter to him, in March, 1808, in which he opened his plan, intimating, among other things, that the climate of Holland was unfavorable to his health. “Tell me categorically,” he said, “if I make you king of Spain, will you agree to it? answer me — yes or no." The surprise of Louis, on 336 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 Tcplitz, 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 finalljq in 1829, a critique on Sir Walter Scott’s JEROME BONAPARTE. 337 Life of Napoleon. Until bis death, which occurred in 1846, at the age of sixty-six, he lived in extreme seclusion. Jerome, the youngest of Napoleon’s brothers, was horn December 15, 17S4. 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 tbe 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 consolatfon; 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 33S LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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, hut 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 JEROME 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 Kapoleon 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, a Jew banker, who obligingly advanced him $400,000 at a reasonable interest. Jerome was not ungrateful. A few days after he had received the moneys, a deputation from the Jews residing at West¬ phalia, consisting partly of rabbis and partly of elders, were introduced to him by Jacobson, who was their 340 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. spokesman on the occasion ; and the following was the royal reply : — “I am satisfied with your speech. The article in the constitution of my kingdom which estab¬ lishes the equality of all religions is in unison with the feelings of my heart. The law ought to interrupt no one in the exercise of his worship. Each subject is as much at liberty to observe the rules of his faith, as the king is to follow his religion. The duties of the citi¬ zen are the only objects which the laws of the govern¬ ment can regulate. I trust I shall never have reason to regret what I am doing in favor of your people.” Westphalia became, indeed, a sort of land of promise for the Tribes of Israel. Individuals with long beards were seen in all the public offices. The minister of state was a Jew; the counselor of finances (the afore¬ mentioned Jacobson) was a Jew ; the commissary at war was a Jew ; the superintendent of hospitals was a Jew; the barrack-master was a Jew. Cassel now presented a most singular spectacle. Around the dissolute a-nd extravagant court crowded a host of rapacious foreigners and idle hangers-on, of both sexes and of every age and condition. Unlike his brother Louis, Jerome affected to despise the na¬ tive manners of his subjects, and would not even give himself the trouble to learn their language. Tin's 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 JEROME 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 dow r n ; 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 w^ere 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 AVurtemberg, 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 w 7 ish was to enjo}' 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 “IJeliogabalns in miniature.” Notwithstand¬ ing the bustle and splendor which he created among them, the Hessians most cordially detested him and his whole crew of corrupters and squanderers. Na¬ poleon they feared and cursed ; Jerome they despised and laughed at. When, on his flight, he carried off the public treasures, and even the furniture of the pal¬ ace, they were thunderstruck, “not at the meanness JEROME BONAPARTE, 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 her 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 Kevolution of 1848, when he returned to Paris, 344 LOUIS NAFOLEON AND UIS TIMES. where he still resides. The admirable Cathavina 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. ITe 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 BONAPARTE. 345 m just as little irl 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 sho was sent to join her 346 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 humble origin, but of considerable promise, whom 15* PAULINE BONAPARTE. 347 lie immediately elevated to the rank of general. Panline 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 her 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, wdiile 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 liiinself 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 largo possessions, who united to eligibility in this respect 348 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 coum 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 RAULINE BONAPARTE. 349 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 niv power to soften his last hours, and to prove my devotion to him.” The prayer was granted; but the concession «sme too late. 350 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. Aftei the fall of Hapoleon, Pauline preserved her position at Rome with great eclat; 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 she had employed in the decoration of the Villa CAROLINE BONAPARTE. 351 Paolina, 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 Pome and her former circle of associates. She became reconciled to her husband, in whose arms sue 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 w T as created Grand Duchess of Berg, and two years afterward she became Queen of Naples. In 1815, when the reverses of the French and the advance of the Austrian army overthrew the government of Murat, and the city of Naples was on the brink of anarchy, plunder and massacre, Caroline adopted measures equally prompt, wise and energetic, for preserving the public tranquillity. She assembled the guards, and, assuming their uniform, addressed them in a speech full of spirit and eloquence. She was on horseback nearly the whole of the day, and remained to the last hour, visiting every post, and assuring herself of the vigilance of all the authorities, until the approach of the Austrians compelled her to capitulate to an English officer, who received her and her children on board his ship ; to which she was ac¬ tually followed by the infuriated lazzaroni, insulting and shocking her ears by the most licentious songs. Nature had endowed Caroline with a resolute temper, a vigorous understanding, lofty ideas, and a flex¬ ible and delicate mind. Her manners were highly 352 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. graceful and captivating. Talleyrand said of her, that “ She had Cromwell’s head on the shoulders of a pretty woman.” Nothing mortified her more, when only Grand Duchess of Berg, than to be constrained to ad¬ dress the wife of her brother Joseph as “Your ma¬ jesty ; ” and she often complained to the Emperor of what she called his undue partiality to that prince, and his forgetfulness of herself and husband. “ Your complaints surprise me, (said Napoleon, on one occa¬ sion ;) to hear you talk, any one would imagine that I had deprived you of your succession to the inheritance of the late king your father! ” Made a widow, in 1815, by the execution of her husband, Caroline Bonaparte, with her four children, settled, after various changes of residence, at Trieste, where, under the title of Countess of Lipona, she re¬ sided with her sister Eliza. In 1836, she returned to Paris, where, for some time, she enjoyed a pension from Louis Philippe, but finally removed to Florence. 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 York, then practiced as an advocate in Georgia, and after¬ ward purchased a plantation in Florida. He visited Europe in 1831, and wrote a book “ on the moral and political condition ” of the people of the United States. He returned to this country, but finally, in 1839, again went to Europe and died in 1847. His younger brother, Napoleon Lucien Charles, (born in 1803,) went through a similar career — coming to the United States when young, marrying an American wife, entering into LETITIA 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. Ilis two sisters, (the one born in 1802, the other in 1805,) were married, the elder to a Count Rasponi, 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 Borne, 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 adonne 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 lie,) 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 LOUIS NAUOI.EON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 Russia. 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. Ho family, plebeian or patrician, has ever become so truly considerable and cosmopolitan, either as regards elevation or diffusion, as the Bonapartes. Napoleon was twice crowned ; Joseph was successively King of Naples and of Spain; Louis was elevated to the throne of Holland, and afterward declined two other crowns; Jerome was made King of Westphalia; one of the sis¬ ters was a queen, and the others were elevated to high dignities. The immediate descendants of these have formed royal and aristocratic alliances. It cannot be denied that, on the whole, they have merited this dis¬ tinction, for they have generally remained faithful to the cause of progress, in whose name they first ob¬ tained power. Their fortunes, for a time partially obscured, are again brightening. Scarcely had the Revolution of February, 1848, occurred, when, rising from their haunts in all parts of Europe, the various members of the family, with Jerome, the old ex-king of Westphalia at their head, hurried to the scene of action. France received them with open arms. At the first elections to the National Assembly three of them were returned as representatives — Pierre 356 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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, w r hen 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 35S LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 fufi 11 as a man of honor, lie 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. lie 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 PRESIDENT 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 w r ere 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 republic had been adopted with extreme haste. The distinctive rights and duties of the Assembly and of the President had 360 LOUIS NAPOLKON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 IIAM. 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 Kevolution 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 serious 16 3G2 LOTT 19 NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. objections to a resumption of monarchical government. Hence, the republic, once proclaimed, accepted by some foreign powers and rejected by some of its neigh¬ bors, became inevitable. But the whole career of the first Assembly was a series of intrigues against the President, of squabbles among its members, of assaults upon the liberties of the nation, of violations of its trust, and of decisions which gave the lie to its origin and its professions. Elected under a republic to per¬ fect and consolidate republican institutions — com¬ mencing life by swearing allegiance and fidelity to the republic, it was in great part composed of Bourbons, Orleanists, and Bonapartists desirous of making Louis Napoleon Emperor. These parties made no secret of their actual views or of their ulterior designs. Proba bly not more than two hundred and fifty were genuine republicans, who were faithful to their important trust. The Orleanists openly visited Louis Philippe and in¬ trigued for the return of the exiled family. The “le¬ gitimists”— adherents of the elder branch of the Bour¬ bons— avowedly received their directions from Wiesba¬ den, where the representatives of that family resided. The Bonapartists openly sighed for the empire, and were encouraged by Louis Napoleon, although he re¬ mained professedly attached to the republic. A sad¬ der, more factious, or more disreputable spectacle than that presented by President and Assembly, a free country had seldom seen. The legislative body turned around almost immediately upon the constituents who had elected them. They abolished universal suffrage by a majority of 466 to 223 and disfranchised three millions of electors. They sent an army to crush the POLICY OF LOUIS NAPOLEON. 363 republic of Rome, then so gallantly fighting for its existence, by 469 votes to 180. They handed over the education of the youth of the country exclusively to the catholic clergy by 445 votes to 187. They enacted laws and sanctioned proceedings against the liberty of the press, more severe than Louis Philippe had ever ventured upon. While the Assembly were thus conspiring against, and violating and discrediting the constitution to which they owed their existence, and which they had sworn to maintain, the conduct of the President seemed also unpatriotic and dishonest. Almost from the day of his inauguration, it was evident that he was deter¬ mined on a re-election — by a revision of the constitu¬ tion, if that could be obtained, if not, in defiance of the constitution. It is almost certain that he aimed, not only at a prolongation, but at an increase of 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. Ilis 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND niS TIMES. Whatever may be thought of their sincerity, were al¬ ways characterized by moderation and an apparent pat¬ riotism. Ilis 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 w T e have done during the last year, but the only thing of which 1 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, b} 7 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 FKENCII 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 attain, 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 tilings, to their country. I propose a toast—‘ To the city of Paris and to the municipal body.”’ For the double purpose of conciliating the pope, and of preventing the increase of Austrian influence in Italy, one of the earliest acts of Louis Napoleon was, to send an army, under the command of General Oudi- not, against the republicans of Rome, who had driven the pope from his dominions and established a liberal government. Pope Pius IX., who commenced his pon¬ tificate in 1846, was at first inclined to favor many reforms in the papal states; but in the revolutionary movement, which swept like a hurricane over the thrones of Europe in 1848, he found his people desirous of obtaining more thorough reforms than he was wil- ling to grant, and in the conflict which ensued, the republicans obtained the mastery. A brief notice of 3fi6 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 Romans did not end with these splendid and solemn pius rx. 367 ceremonies of the coronation. All men spoke of Pins 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 fiot 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 3GS LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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. lie 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 pontift'. 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 jK>pe, 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. w y as 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. Ilis 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 he confined within the limits he had assigned to it; he named a council con¬ sisting chiefly of laymen, who were to assist him in the administration of civil affairs, and listened with dismay to the cries for a representative assembly, who should have the right of governing the country as well as of advising its chief. Whether the pope was unequal to the task now as¬ signed to him, of guiding the vessel of St. Peter amid the storms of a revolutionary period, or whether the task he had undertaken was one too difficult for the ablest mortal to accomplish, we do not pretend to de¬ cide. Suffice it to say, that early in the year 1849, symptoms of reaction began to appear. The Romans became more exacting, and their sovereign less willing to concede the privileges they desired. The appoint¬ ment of Rossi, an Italian by birth, but a foreigner by 16* 370 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 as&ailants, killing a few of them; but the number nus 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 the ministry which he had thus appointed. lie 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. Ileat once comprehended that the position of the pope might be turned into political capital fi>r 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON' AND JUS TIMES. dispatched to solicit his Holiness to seek a refuge in France, and the minister of education and public wor¬ ship hurried to Marseilles to receive the expected guest with all possible honors. The maneuver was, however, unsuccessful; Pius IX. preferred the cordialities of the King of Naples to the attractions of the hero of June, and the election resulted in Louis Napoleon becoming President, and in the defeat of Cavaignac. The new President of France was not slow to per¬ ceive that his own aspirations to increased power would be advanced by a papal alliance, and lost no time in urging the French Assembly to send an army to Rome. The ostensible purpose of the proposed expedition was to prevent the increase of Austrian influence in Italy. Under the command of General Oudinot, an army was 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 honest zeal in behalf of reform which he entertained on his inaugura¬ tion as pope, was transmuted into an embittered and determined support of absolutism. The blessings which had been showered upon him less than four years previous, by a grateful people, were changed to execrations. He entered his palace stealthily and at night, 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 prudence quite incomprehensible, adopted a law which, PARTIES IN TIIE 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 Ponapartists 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 44G were in favor of revision, and 278 against it. Three- fourths of the votes cast w T as the number constitutionally 374 : LOUIS NAPOLEON AND JUS TIMES. 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 pi’eservation 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, for the overthrow of existing governments. The approach¬ ing election in France, he suggested as the period fixed upon for the outbreak of the revolutionary movement, lie expressed his reliance upon the patriotism of the Assembly to save France from these perils. The best means of doing this, he urged, was to satisfy the legiti¬ mate wants of the French people, and to put down, on their first appearance, all attacks on religion, morality, or society. “ Well, then, (proceeds the President,) I have asked myself whether, in presence of the madness of passions, the confusion of doctrines, the division of parties — when every thing is leaguing together to de¬ prive justice, morality, and authority of their last prestige — whether, I say, we ought to allow the only principle to be shaken which, in the midst of the gen¬ eral chaos, Providence has left upstanding as our ral¬ lying point? When universal suffrage has again upraised the social edifice, when it has substituted a right for a revolutionary act, ought its base to be any longer narrowed? When pew powers shall come to LOUIS napoleon’s message. 375 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? No doubt on this subject can be entertained ; and without for a moment departing from the policy of order which I have always pursued, I have seen myself, to my deep regret, obliged to separate myself 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 Buch 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 370 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. 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 them 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 orisis 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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, he 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. “Frenchmen, —The present situation cannot last much longer. Each day the condition of the country becomes worse. The Assembly, which ought to be the firmest supporter of order, has become a theater of plots. The patriotism of 300 of its members could not arrest its fatal tendencies. In place of making laws for the general interest of the people, it 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. 379 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 discussion of them before the legislative body. 4. A legislative body 380 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND 1IIS TIMES. discussing and voting laws, named by universal suffrage. 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 them to it. Such is my profound conviction. If you share in it, declare it by your suffrages. If, on the contrary, you prefer a government with strength, monarchical or republican, borrowed from I know not what past, or from some chimerical future, reply negatively. Tims, then, for the first time since 180i, 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 TIIE 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. pistol in each hand ; the commissary seized hold of his arms, and struck down his weapons, saying, “ What are you about, general ? Your life is in no danger; wherefore defend it?” The general remained calm, surrendered his pistols, and said, “I am at your 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 ARRESTS. 383 of a warrant which I will read to you.” “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 you mean by arresting me? Give me your names.” “We will not conceal them from you, general ; but this is not the time. You must dress yourself, and follow us.” The general became tranquil, and said, “ Very well, sir, I am ready to follow you ; only give me time to dress ; send out your people.” He asked permission to write, and leave was given him to do so. When the general was ready, he said to the commis¬ sary, “ I have only one favor to ask you—it is, to allow me to go to my place of destination with you only.” The commissary consented. During the jour¬ ney, the general was much engaged in thought, and he only spoke once. “Am I the only one arrested?” “General, I am not called on to reply to that question.” “Where are you taking me to! ” “ To the Mazas prison.” General Lamoriciere was also taken by surprise. 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 6how 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 334 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. answer for nothing. Deal with me as you will.” Ho 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 single word, but intimated to him that he should feel himself called upon to resort to rigorous measures did he repeat his attempt. The general answered, “Act as you please.” On his arrival at the Mazas prison, the gen¬ eral displayed more calmness. He requested the com¬ missary not to seize his valuable weapons, and to send him some cigars and the history of the French Revolu¬ tion. The commissary complied with his request. General Leflo took matters less coolly. He said to the commissary, “Hapoleon wishes to make a coup d ’ ctat! 'We’ll shoot him at Vincennes. As for yon, 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 had loaded my pistol; but I have withdrawn the THE ARRESTS. 385 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 you come on that day, (said the colonel,) I would have blown your brains out.” He entered the carriage without ofierin?.inst the press Oixth/lJiSd of April, more¬ over the cavil tribunal gave 6 on lAo demand THE PRESIDENT AND THE ASSEMBLY. 403 made by the princes of the Orleans family to declare illegal the seizure of the estates of Nenilly 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 w r as 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.” lie 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 6uch 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 LOUIS NAPOLLON AND IIIS '1 IMPS. 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 Rhine, and went to Baden-Baden, his object being, according to rumor at the time, to seek an interview with the Princess Caroline Stephanie de Yasa, 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 BeauharnaisA * 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. PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE. 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, apjjointed. 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 the passage. On finding he had not, Lafayette remarked that his servant must have secreted the visitor in a side room ; and went on to inform his friend that Prince Louis Napoleon Bonaparte had just left him ! that although a Bonaparte then risked his life by entering France, the prince had come to propose a marriage with his grand-daughter Clementine, thus uniting the Republicans and Imperialists, and making himself Emperor ! Lafayette replied that his family adopted the American practice of choosing husbands for themselves, and that the prince could address the lady if he pleased. Of what followed, we are not informed ; but must infer that his suit, if preferred, was unsuccessful, as the lady afterward married M. de Beaumont, French ambassador under Louis Napoleon, to the court of Austria. When in London, some time after, Mr. Cooper mentioned to tho 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 has been the prince’s pur¬ suit e*er since, and the chances are that he will bring it about” 406 LOUIS NArOLEON AND niS TIMES. however, complied to a manifestly small extent with the request of the government for a general illumina¬ tion. Solicitations to sign petitions for the restoration of the empire were already addressed to the inhabit¬ ants of the faubourgs of Paris, but the number of subscribers was not very encouraging. In the 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 Ly 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 wdth the masses of the French. Along the entire route the President was hailed with cries of u Vive V JEmpereur 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 decroe 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 TOULON 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. lie 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 affaii occurred. The decorations were of a former period and the workmen omitted to change the initials “ R F.” Fortunately the mayor discovered the mistake in time. The “ R ” was altered into an “ E,” which al once converted Republique Francaise into Empire Francaise. The distant magistracy of Toulon could hardly be blamed for not keeping their mottoes corre¬ sponding with their oft-changing allegiance to their central government. At Lyons, the President witnessed the ceremony of erecting an equestrian statue of the Emperor Napoleon, and made a speech of considerable significance in connection with his progress toward the imperial dignity : “Lyonese,” he said, “your city has always been 40S LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. associated by remarkable incidents with the different phases of the life of the Emperor. Yon 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 Emyereur , has been raised ! But that cry is much more, in my view, a recollection that affects my heart, than a hope that excites my pride. A faithful servant of my country, I shall ever have but one object—that of reconstituting in this great country, convulsed by so many revolutions and Utopian schemes, a peace founded on conciliation of persons, on the inflexibility of the principles of authority, morality, and affection for the laboring and suffering classes, and of national dignity. We 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. 400 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 , 1 should not, from personal interest , desire to exchange that title for the title of Emperor. Let us, then, deposit on this stone our homage to a great man. We thus honor both the glory of France and the generous gratitude of the people, and testify likewise the fidelity of the 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, Vive V Empereur ! Previous to the entrance of the President into Mar¬ seilles, a discovery was made of a supposed plot to assassinate him by means of an infernal machine, in imitation of a similar attempt made upon the life of Napoleon when First Consul. Numerous pieces of gas pipe, so constructed as to answer the purpose of musket barrels, and loaded with hundreds of bullets, were discovered in a house situated on the route .by which it was presumed the prince would enter the city. Many arrests were made of individuals supposed to have a connection with this affair, and the impression 18 41 f LOUIS NAPOLEON Alp IIIS TIMES. was sought to be conveyed that the ramifications of the plot w r ere 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 the people, the prince more explicitly announced his opinions as to the assumption of the title of Emperor, in the following speech at Bordeaux, which is given with the reporter’s remarks as to its reception : “The object of my journey, as you are aware, was to become personally acquainted with our beautiful provinces of the south, and to stud} 7 their necessities. It 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&e empire is war.’ But I say, ‘The empire is peace.’ SPE^I 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 XIV. recommence his combats? War is not made for pleasure, it is made from necessity, and at those epochs of transition when, side by side with so many elements of prosperity, so many causes of death also germinate, we may well say with truth, cursed be he who shall be the first to give tiie 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. “Vive 1’ 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 receotion with which the President MESSAGE TO TFIE SENATE. 413 had ever met in Paris, and must have satisfied him, nad 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: “Senators, —The nation has clearly manifested its wish for the re-establishment of the empire. Confident in your patriotism and your intelligence, I have con¬ voked you for the purpose of deliberating on that grave question, and of intrusting you with the regulation of tbe 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. ing the conquests of ’S9. 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 eisrht articles. After some discussion on each of the articles, the whole was adopted by a vote of eighty-six out of eighty-seven senators. The substance>of this act of the senate is as follows : it declares that, 1. The em¬ pire is re-established, and Louis Napoleon Bonaparte is Emperor under the name of Napoleon III.; 2. The imperial dignity is hereditary in his direct and legiti¬ mate male descendants, by order of primogeniture; 3. If he has no male descendants, he may adopt the legitimate children and descendants in the male line of the brothers of Napoleon I. ; 4. Adoption is inter¬ dicted to his descendants ; 5. He is to regulate by an organic decree the order of succession, in case he should leave no direct, legitimate or adopted heir; 6. The members of the family of Louis Napoleon who COMPLIANCE OF TIIE SENATE. 415 can eventually be called to the sucession, and their descendants, constitute the imperial family, whose posi¬ tion is regulated by the senatus cousultum, 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 oiler 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 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. But little opposition was manifested. The result of the ■vote was as follows : Foj the empire. 7,864,189 Against it,. 253,145 Votes canceled as illegal,. 63,326 Majority for Louis Napoleon,. 7,547,718 On the 1st of December, the legislative corps, num¬ bering two hundred and forty members, assembled for the purpose of making the official declaration of the election ; then proceeding to St. Cloud, in full costume, announced the result. The next day, December 22d, the anniversary of the coup d'etat, Louis Napoleon made his public entry, as Emperor, into Paris. His arrival was greeted with the acclamations of the peo¬ ple, the national guard, and the army. The public proclamation of the empire was made at the Hotel de Yilie during the same morning, previously to his arrival. To the congratulatory addresses from the senate and the legislative corps, his Imperial Majesty made the follow¬ ing reply : “ 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 EMTEROr’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 son, which the chambers proclaimed with the last outburst of conquered patriotism. “ Thus, then, the title of Napoleon III. is not one of those dynastic and obsolete pretensions which seem an insult alike to truth and common sense ; it is the hom¬ age paid to a government which was legitimate, and to which we are indebted for the finest pages of our modern history. My reign does not date from 1815 ; it dates from the very instant that you have communicated to me the suffrages of the nation. ********* “And here receive the oath, that 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 “Vive F Empereur,” “Vive Napoleon III.,” followed this speech. The senate was convened the next day, and pro¬ ceeded to determine the civil list of the new regime A general amnesty relating to offenses of the press, and also in many cases to political offenses, was declared. IS* 4i8 " LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 EMPKESS. 419 his repartees. One day lie 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. lie, 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 XOUIS NAPOLEON AND II IS TIMES. 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 Spaindias been seen to recognize her in this equipage. Many piquant anecdotes are told of her free and rather unfeminine conduct in both Madrid and Paris. In the former metropolis, she once waited on an actor of the French theater, with the somewhat abrupt, though dashing and sprightly declaration that she liked him , and would learn something of his history and travels. She insisted that he should take a seat in her carriage. Remonstrance would not avail. Into the carriage he did get, and after a ride of four hours around the city, he was safely landed at his cafe , much to his own astonishment, and her amusement. On the 22d of January the various chief function¬ aries of state presented themselves at the Tuileries, to receive from the Emperor the announcement of his THE EMPEROR ON HIS MARRIAGE. 421 intended marriage, which he made in the following speech : “Messieurs: I yield to the wish so often manifested by the country, in coming to announce to you 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 not the issue of royal blood, it must, however, be admitted that in 1810 the marriage of Napoleon I. with Marie Louise was a great event. It was a pledge for the future, a real satisfaction to the national pride, as the ancient and illustrious branch of the house of Austria, who had been so long at war with us, was seen to solicit the alliance of the elected chief of the new empire. Under the last reign, on the contrary, the amour propre of the 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, (envieillissant son Mason ,) and by seeking to introduce oneself at all costs into a 422 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. family, that one is accepted. It is rather by ever 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. Tlius, 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 wdiose 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 of the Tuileries on the 29th of January, and the religious. CELEBRATION OF TIIE MARRIAGE. 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 Elysee, and between the latter and the cathedral of Notre Dame. At the same time the whole of the na¬ tional guards of Paris were called out for the purpose of doing honor to the day, by forming the line on one side of the streets through which the procession was to pass, wdiile 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 open air, was not marred by any 424 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. 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 ‘ A.’ Garlands of flowers were festooned among these draperies, and other shields were placed on the fiat 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, wffiich 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 MARRIAGE CEREMONY. 425 not occupied by the ceremony was by no means lost, as immense chandeliers bung 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 12-1 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 ottered 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 Bassan'g 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 also shone with the same rich ornaments. The Empe¬ ror was dressed in the uniform of a general officer, lie had on the "rand collar of the Leg-ion 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, 420 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. as far as the Place de la Concorde, and entered the palace by the grand entrance to the garden of the Tuileries. The deputations, drawn up in the gardens, were respectful but not warm in their salutations.” The Emperor signalized his marriage by pardoning four thousand three hundred and twelve persons, who vere 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 attention to the national will, deny the reality of tacts, and in the midst of a sea which every day grows more tran¬ quil, call for tempests, in which they would be the first to be swallowed up. These secret proceedings of the different parties serve no purpose but to show their ■weakness, and the government, instead of being dis¬ turbed at them, only thinks of governing France and tranquilizing Europe.” The condition of the country, under the stability of a government usurping and despotic as it is, is beyond question, highly prosperous. The public revenues have increased, and the financial condition of the state is better than it has been for the last twenty years. By the firm determination of the Emperor, and the earnest cooperation of the assembly, the expenditures have been brought, in the estimates, within the limits of the national income, a rare occurrence in French financier¬ ing. Large reductions have been made in the line of the army, and every indication of a peaceful intention is given by the Emperor. A saying attributed to him touching his feelings toward England is in point here. An English nobleman was recently driving with him toward Compiegne, and desirous of surprising him into a candid answer, abruptly asked him, if he really thought of invading England. To this rather imperti¬ nent question, Louis’ reply was: “I have no such intention unless you force me to it; but from what I 6ee and hear of your democratic spirit in England, I think it very likely that I shall have to go over some day, and help your Queen.” My lord was compelled to pocket the rejoinder. 428 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. There is no doubt, though on some accounts we may be very much surprised at such a result, that the gov¬ ernment of Louis Napoleon is decidedly and generally popular in France. Yet this fact does not imply that there is any hearty and extensive enthusiasm either for the government or for the man. His reign is acqui¬ esced in, not merely because he has at command the physical power to coerce submission, but because there is a general and deliberate conviction, that the man and his system are best suited to the actual position, if not to the habitual character of the nation. The great mass are satisfied with the empire, because its chief bears the name of Napoleon, and because they have experienced the necessity of quiet and steadiness in national affaire, in order to their personal prosperity. The priests throughout the country are zealous and efficient supporters of the Emperor. The extreme republicans, and the men who have held prominent positions under previous administrations, are naturally hostile to the present state of things. But the imperial regime is popular with all those who long for repose, and even with the more active politicians who feel with deep anxiety that Louis Napoleon has no rival; that if he were now cut off he could have no successor; that between him and anarchy at present lies no third al¬ ternative. He has undoubtedly strengthened his posi¬ tion by the assumption of the purple. He appears not so much like an adventurer, who has trampled upon the liberties of his country. He has gathered around his person those memories of the Great Napoleon, which are so precious to the glory-loving French, and which invest with a bewildering splendor the POSITION OF THE EMPEROR. 429 individual who by any art can connect them with him¬ self. Yet he is occasionally reminded how adventitious and uncertain is his reputation, and how slight is his personal popularity. But lately he appeared without previous notice and arrangement at the Italian opera, where, in consequence of the absence of his retained admirers, his reception was cold to a mortifying degree. The presence of the Empress even did not awaken the enthusiasm of the audience. A republican demonstration, such as has never been attempted since the coup d'etat, took place in Paris not long after the Emperor’s marriage, when a body of nearly twenty thousand men assembled and inarched in procession as a cortege of the funeral of Madame Raspail, wife of the celebrated state-prisoner of that name. A detachment of cavalry and a great force of Sergens de Ville prevented any speeches over the grave. The proceedings were conducted with perfect quietness. This immense line of men, five deep, marched with bare heads and in solemn silence past the columns of Liberty on the Place de la Bastille. This demonstration shows the great influence still exercised by Raspail as a republican leader. The rigor of the Emperor’s rule by no means abates, as he finds himself in the high place he has so long coveted. A free press is no longer known. Religious liberty cannot be recognized in the mere shadow of toleration which exists. Still he acquires some credit as at intervals he continues to exercise his clemency toward political offenders. His frequent declarations of his desire for peace are still confirmed by his ac¬ tions * and herein he evinces the restraint which a wise 430 LOUIS NArOLEON AND IIIS TIMES. policy holds over his ambition, for certainly in the event of a war the generals who might lead his armies would gain the glory of success. To a deputation of English merchants, who in the latter part of March presented him an address in which they assured him of the friendly feeling of the English people toward his government, he replied —“ Like you I desire peace ; and to make it sure, I wish, like you, to draw closer the bonds which unite our two countries.” The Emperor has not secured the support of his former rival Cavaignac. A late characteristic anecdote of the latter is thus related. Bergere, the prefect of the Seine, met him at the horticultural exhibition, and raised his hat; the general responded to the courtesy with a frigid stiffness. “But,” said the prefect, approach¬ ing him more nearly, and mingling cordiality with deprecation in his tones, “ General Cavaignac’s services to society, and his varied worth, command a respect and esteem, the expression of which ought not to be affected 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.” Cavaignac was born of a republican father and a re¬ publican mother. He will never belie his birth. He is one of the few public men of France who could surprise us by an act of inconsistency. Whatever may be thought of the character of Louis Napoleon, it cannot be denied that he is a man of re¬ markable ability. He has shown the utmost self-pos¬ session, firmness, courage and prudence during his administration. He began his career amid the scoff’s of Europe, and now his movements are watched with THE EMPEROR’S CHARACTER. 431 an intense interest which indicates a full recognition of his capacity and his power. lie possesses, in an eminent degree, that promptness in decision, that in¬ flexibility of purpose, and that energy in the execution of his designs, that seems to be the indestructible inheritance of his race. In the measures he took to mount the imperial throne, there was nothing to ex¬ cite the just indignation of the world, as was the case with the reckless barbarity which consummated the coup d'etat. In the last stage of his ambitious prog¬ ress, the emotion most readily awakened is pity for the weakness of the French people. He, especially in his speeches, displayed great skill, profound appreciation of the national tastes, and that sententious aptness in the presentation of a popular idea which is a peculiar merit of French eloquence. Yet the charm of origi¬ nality is taken away when we think we perceive a decided, though it be a quite successful effort to imi¬ tate the style of his uncle. Ilis strategy in politics, from the boldness and breadth of purpose and the close devotion to details which mark it, reminds one of the military strategy of the great Emperor. It may be there is a mental similarity between the two, which time will develop in bolder relief to the surprise of all who have observed the career of the nephew. It is hazardous to conjecture any thing respecting French affairs. They are a people who put at fault the most trained political sagacity. While the assertion of the Emperor is false, “that liberty has never aided in found¬ ing a durable political edifice,”—a sentiment which no statesman, but one whose ideas of liberty were formed exclusively from a study of French history, 432 LOUIS NAPOLEON AND HIS TIMES. would venture to utter — it remains one of the inter¬ esting mysteries of the future — interesting, because involving the political destiny of the millions of continental Europe ■— whether he will redeem his implied pledge, to crown the structure of his vast im¬ perial power with the blessing of national liberty. We fear that he will not. University Libraries D01 128166P