Class-Jll^V Book. OK FRANCE, ENGLAND, RUSSIA, PRUSSIA, SARDINIA, AND AUSTRIA. RICHLY ILLUSTKAir.Ii WITH Portniite of imperial Soncrcigus AND THEIR Cabinet Ministers; WITH BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES, AN"I> AN INTRODUCTION BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. EDITED BY W. H. BIDWELL. NEW YORK: ClIARLES ScRIBXER, 124 (tRAND StREET. 1863. I. Entered accorJing to Act of Congress, in the year 186"2, by W. H. BIDWELL, in tlie Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York. OAMDUlDd E: Stereotyped aud I'rintcd at tlic Hiversidk Press, BV II (I IIOI'OIITON EDITOR'S PREFACE. Tiiio title of this work, " Imperial Courts," is selected in view of the high names and exalted position of those personages of various courts of whom portraits and brief biographical sketches are presented on these pages. An assembly of these personages convened in actual life might appropriately l)e called a Congress of Sover- eigns, attended 1)V their Ministers of State. Next in interest to such an august gathering on some great State occasion, is a collection of the jiortraits of men who have acted a distinguished part in the drama of history. And there is a feeling of pleasure in gazing upon the very form and features of those men of great intellectual power who have guided the affairs of State and controlled the destinies of empires. The galleries of Europe and the world are adorned and enriched with statues which almost speak, and with portraits which look out fresh and life- like from the canvas. All these are objects of interest wherever they are to be found. It falls to the lot of comparatively few of the human race to sit on thrones and wield the sceptres of power over millions of their fellow-men. Of these, a goodly number of living sovereigns are represented in tliis vol- ume, as well as the portraits of monarchs and other men iv EDITOR'S PREFACE. of renown whose life and deeds belong to the annals of the past. The Editor has availed himself of the best materials within his reach, both artistic and biograjihical, to collect in this work what may serve to gratify and instruct a large class of readers. The unusual number of plates has, of necessity, some- what narrowed down the limits of the letter-press no- tices and descriptions. The brief biographical and historic sketches are derived from various authentic sources, too numerous to be particularly mentioned. As a part of the actual history of some of the Courts, several scenes and events of unusual interest and im- portance are also depicted. One is the coronation cere- monies of the present Emperor and Empress of Russia, which presents a description of the gorgeous and imperial splendor of such an occasion as the world has seldom seen. Another is a description of the nuptial ceremonies in the present reigning Royal Famdy of England ; and still another represents, in striking contrast to the coronation and nuptial ceremonies, a most tragic scene in the court circle of the old Napoleon, memorable as the Ambassador's Ball. This volume, with its varied portraitrillustrations and its brief biographical sketches, imperfect as they are admitted to be, is respectfully commended to the favor and kind indulgence of the reader. CONTENTS. PAGE INTRODUCTION, BY WILLIAM CDLLEN BRYANT ix TiiK Court oi- Kuance 1 Eugenie, Emimsess of Fkance, and Ladies ok her Couiit 5 The Emperor Louis Napoleon III 9 Eugenie, Empress of France 21 Napoleon Bonaparte on the Morning op the Eighteenth BllUMAIRE 25 The Divorce of Josephine 39 Prince and Princess Napoleon 51 Napoleon I. and the Concordat 55 Louis XVL, King of France 59 Queen Marie Antoinette 67 The Princess Lamballe 87 The Ambassador's Ball 89 The Emperor Charlemagne 103 The Court of England Ill Her Majesty, Queen Victoria Ill Ills RovAL Highness, Prince Albert 123 The Prince of Wales, K. G 131 Loud Palmerston 137 Lord John Russeli 145 Lord Clarendon 157 The Duke op Wellington 1 C3 Lord Ltndhurst 173 Sir Robert Peel 181 The Earl of Elgin 191 Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII 197 Queen Elizabeth 201 Mary, Queen of Scots, 209 Lady Jane Grey 225 Queen Philippa and the Burgesses of Calais 241 vi CONTENTS. PAGE kichaed iii. and the duke of buckingham 247 Cromwell Dissolving the Long Parliament 251 The Court of Russia 257 The Emperor Alexander 1 258 The Emperor Nicholas 2G9 Alexander II., Eilperor of Russia 277 The Empress of Russia 281 Count Orloff 311 The Court of Prussia 317 Frederic William Louis 325 The Queen of Prussia 331 Prince Frederic William and Princess Victoria 333 The Court of Sardinia 355 King Victor Emmanuel 355 Count de Cavouk 365 The Court of Austria 395 Francis Joseph, Emperor of Austria 397 The Empress of Austria 401 The Empress Maria Theresa 403 Prince Kaunitz 407 The Court of Persia 409 The Shah op Persia 409 ILLUSTRATIONS. — ♦ No. PAGE 1. Euo£nie, Emtress of Fkance, and Ladies of her Couut.. 5 2. Napolf.on III., Emperor of the French 9 i. Eug£nie, Empress of the French 21 4. The Morning of the Eighteenth Brcmaire 25 5. The Divorce of the Empress Josephine 39 6. Prince Napoleon and his wife, the Princess Clotilde... 51 7. Napoleon inducing Pope Pics YII. to Sign the Concordat 55 8. Loiis XVI. threatened bv the Mou on their visit to THE Tuileries 59 9. Marie Antoinette going to Execution G7 10. Condemnation of the Princess Lamballe 87 11. Charlemagne 103 12. Victoria, Queen of England Ill 13. Ills Roval Highness, Prince Albert 123 11. Ills Royal Highness, Albert, Prince of Walks 131 15. Lord Palmerston 137 16. Lord John Russell 145 17. Eakl Clarendon 157 18. The Duke of Wellington 103 19. Lord Lyndhurst 173 20. Sir Robert Peel 181 21. The Earl of Elgin 191 22. King Henry VIIL and Anne Boleyn 197 23. Queen Elizabeth 201 24. Mary, Queen of Scots 209 25. Arrest of Lady Jane Grey 225 2G. Queen Puilippa interceding for the Lives of the Bur- gesses of Calais, 1347 211 27. Richard the Third endeavoring to persuade Buckingham 247 28. Cromwell dissolving the Long Parliament 251 29. Alexander L, Emperor of Russia 257 b vili ILLUSTRATIONS. No. PAGE 30. Nicholas, Emperor of Russia 269 3L Alexander II., Emperor of Russia 277 32. Her Majesty, the Empress of Russia 281 33. Count Okloff 311 34. Fkedeuic William Louis, King of Prussia 325 35. Her Majesty, the Queen of Prussia 331 3G. Princess Victoria (of England) and Prince Frederic William (of Prussia) 333 37. Victor Emmanuel, King of Sardinia 355 38. Count Cavour 365 39. Francis Joseph, Emperor of Austria 397 40. The Empress op Austria 401 41. The Empress Maria Theresa and her Minister of State, Kaunitz 403 42. His Majesty, Mahomet, the Shah of Persia 409 INTRODUCTION. My friend, Mr. BidwcU, having desired that I should furnish an Introduction to his book, I have consented, perhaps thoughtlessly, since, on reflection, it seems to me that the title of .such a work is its own best introduction to the reader. The subject is one which awakens, and the satisfactory execution of which gratifies, a universal curiosity. The lowest figure in the Arabic numerals, denoting a single object, acquires, by the mere change of position, a very different signification. Placed at the head of a row of figures, it is made to denote at pleasure thousands, millions, decillions, — its importance and dignity increasing with every addition to its retinue, until it comes to ex- press aggregates too large to be grasped by the imagina- tion. So with sovereigns; the individual, who in private life might be a perfectly uninteresting and insignificant personage, becomes, when placed at the head of a great nation, in many important respects, great, — becomes the centre of a mighty influence, the object of universal olj- servation, and of a thousand hopes and fears, both for the country he governs and for the world, — a vast complica- tion stretching widely over the present and far into the X INTRODUCTION. future. History, which disdains to record the fortunes of private men, chronicles his actions, analyzes his character, searches into the causes which determine his policy, and seeks to define the effect of that policy on future genera- tions. In reading the narratives of the lives of sovereigns we read so many separate chapters in the annals of the human race. How vast is the influence which the sovereigns of the greater monarchies, designated in this volume as imperial, exercise over the welfare of mankind, the events of every year bear witness. They build up and they overthrow ; they distribute provinces and principahties among them- selves and the inferior sovereigns according to some capri- cious system which they call the balance of power; they indulge or they restrain the efforts of the human mind for a freer exertion of its faculties; they help forward or they hold back, sometimes for good and sometimes for evil, the great movements of the age, the tendencies towards change which are continually agitating the nations. When, not lone; since, Russia was about to aggrandize herself bv the conquest of Constantinople, France and England interfered, overawed Austria, dragged Sardinia into their league, and upheld the Turkish empire, tottering to its overthrow. It is the boast of Switzerland that she offers an asjlum to all those who, for opinion's sake, are hunted out of the neigh- boring kingdoms ; yet a fugitive from France or Austria, whom it pleases these powers to persecute unto strange cities, can enjoy the protection of the mountain republic no longer than they perniit. The liberty of the press, of which Belgium is proud, and justly, is a liberty qualified INTRODUCTION. xi by the good pleasure of France. But for France the Ro- man question -would have been settled long ago, and of the temporal power of the Pope not a fragment would now remain. But for Austria, perhaps we may say but for France, the province of Venetia, as its people earnestly desire, would now form a part of the kingdom of Italy. We of the United States, at this distance from the Old World, have often congratulated ourselves on our al^solute independence of those great powers which govern Europe, with what justice recent events have somewhat impleas- antly taught us. In the civil war which has so unfor- tunately arisen, we feel that France and England have the power to interfere greatly to oin* prejudice ; we know that they have the disposition to do so whenever an op- portune moment shall occur, and we watch with no little unea.siness the indications of such a design as they disclose themselves from time to time. Surely it is worth while; to study the history and character of tho.se with whom we are brought into such critical relations. It is a trite remark that those who are placed in sta- tions which insure them deference and homage, without a virtuous life, are very apt to despise the laws of .society and disregard justice, and that accordingly we are not to look to Courts for patterns of personal worth and con- scientious dealing. We cannot, however, .safely adopt the sweeping censure of the Spanish satirist Quevedo, as versified by Cowper in one of the most characteristic of his poems : — " Quevedo, as he tells liis sober tale, Asked, when in hell, to see the royal jail, xii INTRODUCTION. Approved their method in all other thing>i, ' But where, good sir, do you confine your kings ? ' ' Tliere,' said his guide ; ' the group is full in view.' ' Indeed,' replied the Don, ' there are but few.' His black interpreter the charge disdained, — ' Few, fellow ? there are all that ever reigned.' " The comment of Cowper on this is, — " Wit, undistinguishing, is apt to strike Tiie guilty and not guilty, both alike." And truly if we find that the sovereigns of our own time are not, in general, free from the vices of their class, we must admit that there are those among them, who, by their character or their acts, have illustriously distinguished themselves from the common crowd of monarchs. All agree that the present Queen of England is a pattern of private virtue ; that she opposes no obstacles to wholesome reforms, nor willingly bestows the honors, so largely in her gift, upon worthless favorites; and the Sovereign of Eng- land who is all this is all that a Sovereign of England can well be. Alexander the Second of Russia has broken the chains of forty millions of bondmen, making liis reign glorious by an act which places him among the benefactors of our race, to be remembered as long as Alfred the Great. The King of Sardinia, several years since, discarded the narrow hereditary policy of his kingdom, and granting the freedom of industry, of the press, and of religion, has found his reward in the gratitude, prosperity, and contentment of his people. These are monarchs reared in Courts, and subject to all the dangerous influences which surround the INTilODUCTIOX. xiii offspring of royal families. We should not inquire too jealously into tlioir motives ; they were proljably like those which govern men in lower stations, — of a mixed nature. 1 renuMulicr once asking an Italian statesman at Turin how it happened that Victor Euunainu'l had fol- lowed, in his 2»'ihlic conduct, maxims so different from those of most sovereigns. "The explanation," he replied, " is easy. He perceived that this is the true path to hon- orable distinction. Among absolute monarchs he would have been an insignificant follower ; among liberal princes he takes the lead aud his ambition is gratified." It was certainly, to say the least, a sagacious ambition. It may be that a like ainliition has governed the Russian Emperor. The love of glory is, in some form, the passion of all who reign ; but Alexander has covered himself with a glory such as no extent of conquests could possibly give, such as his predecessor on the throne would have failed to acquire, had he added to his dominion the whole Tuikish empire to its uttermost provinces. It remains that I should say a few ANords concerning the plan of the work. The biographical notices which Mr. Bidwell has bi'ought together include, not only the pei- sonal history of the lieads of the greater monarchies, but that of their most eminent counsellors ; men with whom they discussed their projects and who were their agents in executing them. The most important events of the nineteenth century are placed before the reader in some- Avhat rapid outline, and the narrative of one sovereign's reign is often the complement of that of some other. The portraits are the most accurate likenesses that could xiv INTRODUCTION. be procured, and the singular skill of the Riverside Press has lent its aid to give the letter-press a page so beau- tifully executed as to be excelled by nothing that has appeared in our country. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. New York, November 1, 1862. imperial Courts, THE COURT OF FEANCE. For more than a thousand years the history of the French Court has played a prominent part in the history of Europe, and iniluenced the destinies of the human race. The victory of Charles Martel over the Saracens at Towers, A. D. 732, saved Europe from the fanaticism of the Moslems; and his son Pepin, in the middle of the eighth century, planted firmly the Carlovingian dynasty all over Gaul, and made the Lombards his tributaries. Pepin's son Charle- magne, crowned by the Pope a. d. 800, revived in the West the grand project of a new Roman Empire, which emerged from the wreck into which Europe had been plunged by the barbaric invasions, consolidated and extended its power, and laid the basis of those institutions, in both Church and State, which have determined the course of subsequent his- tory. The brilliancy of Charlemagne's Imperial Court, sec- ond only to that of Byzantium, diffused its splendors over Europe, and attracted embassies from the remotest East ; while his patronage of learning and care for religion have invested his name with an imperishable renown. Italy, Germany, and the North of Spain were made subject to his arms, and the Saxons compelled to accept the Christian faith. Though his dream of universal empire was dissolved at his death, yet it has ever since inllamed the imagination 1 2 IMPERIAL COURTS. of the French nation and inspired their ceaseless efforts to control the policy of Europe. The foundations of the Feu- dal System were laid in the course of the ninth century, witli the rise of the kingdom of France. From the last quarter of the tenth century (a. d. 987), one single fxmily, the house of Capet, has held the throne of this mighty kingdom, — with the sole exception of the imperial reigns of the Bonapartes, — preferred by the French people, be- cause more daring in schemes of empire and more bold ill execution. During the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the royal authority was consolidated by the subjection of the nobles, particularly under the sagacious reign of Philip Augustus, (1180-1229,) who raised the kingdom to a prominent posi- tion in European affiiirs. Louis IX., (1226-1270,) by his wisdom, and his heroic and saintly virtues, added fresh lus- tre to the French name. The protracted contest of more than a hundred years (1337-1453) between France and England ended in the expulsion of the latter from its con- tinental territories, leaving to France a more unfettered career. In the Eeformation century, Francis I. contested with tlie Emperor, Charles V., the rule of Europe. Had he not also i^laced the monarchy in opposition to Protestant- ism, he would have spared his country the fearful tale of the persecution of the Huguenots, and averted mairy of the ills which culminated in the French Revolution. Under Louis XIV. the Court of France reached the acme of its splendor and renown. French manners, literature, and taste, as well as French arms, ruled the continent. The glories of art were revived in the Renaissance; the French language became the speech of courtiers and diplomatists. The king who could say L'etat c'est 3Ioi gathered around him in Paris and Versailles all that was brilliant in the church, the senate, tlie camp, and the high noblesse, and made his Court tlie wonder of Europe. But in its very splendors were concealed the elements of dissolution ; for TIIK COIRT OF FRANCE. 3 the welfare of the people was sacrificed to the glories of royalty, and morals and religion were corrupted by material magnificence. The expiring glories of the old monarchy still adorned the Court of Louis XVI., presided over by the beautiful and accomplished Marie Antoinette, whose tragic fate is mourned by thousands, who also see in the French Revolution the rilic flivor by his progresses through the country, his sounding and significant addresses, and the desire he constantly expressed for the exaltation of France in the eyes of the surrounding nations. His dismissal, at the be- ginning of 1851, of a man so able and so popiilar as Changarnier from the command of the army in Paris, showed that he would not permit himself to be bearded with impunity ; and rash as it might at first glance seem, it served to strengthen his position. He was met appar- ently by an equally firm resolution in the National Assem- bly, who, after repeatedly expressing want of confidence in his ministers, proceeded on the tenth of February, 1851, by a majority of one hundred and two, to reject the Presi- dent's Dotation Bill. In November the President sent a message to the Asseml:)ly proposing to restore universal suftiage, and in accordance w^ith the message a bill was introduced by the ministers, Init thrown out by a small majority. The contest was hastening to a close. In a public speech the President had denounced the Assembly as obstructive of all amelioratory measures, and a govern- ment journal now plainly accused that body of conspiracy against the Prince -President, and of designing to make Changarnier military Dictator. Paris was filled ■with troops. It was evident some decided measure was at hand. The leaders of the Assembly hesitated, and their cause was lost. On the second of December the Prince-President issued a decree dissolving the Legislative Assembly; declaring Paris THE EMrEROR LOUIS NAPOLEON IIL 17 in a state of siege ; establishing universal sufTragc ; pro- posing the election of a President for ten years, and a sec- ond Cliambor or Senate. In the coui'se of the night one hundred and eighty meuibers of the Assembly were placed under arrest, and M. Thiers and other leading statesmen, with Generals Changarnier, Cavaignac, Lamoriciere, etc., were seized and sent to the Castle of Vincennes. This was the famous coiip d'6lat: it was eminently successfid, and an occasion of fearful slaughter. Niunerous other arrests and banishments occurred subsequently. On the twentieth and twenty-first of December a "plebiscite," em- bod3'ing the terms of the decree, with the name of Louis Napoleon as President, was adopted by the French people, the numbers, according to the official statement, being 7,439,216 in the affirmative and C-40,737 negative. A de- cree, published on the day of the official amiouncement of the vote, restored the imperial eagles to the national colors and to the cross of the Legion of Honor. In January the new constitution was pubhshed ; the National Guard reorganized ; and the titles of the French nobility restored. It soon became evident that the restoration of the Em- pu*e was only a matter of time. Petitions which had been presented to the Senate were printed in the newspapers, praying for the establishment of the hereditaiy sovereign power in the Bonaparte family ; cries of " Vive VEinpe- reur V were heard in every public ceremonial in which the President took part ; and at length the President hunself^ in a speech to the Chamber of Commerce of Bordeaux, declared that "the empire is peace." On the twenty-first and twenty-second of November, the people were convoked to accept or reject a "plebiscite," resuscitating the imperial dignity in the person of Louis Napoleon, with hcredicity in his direct legitimate or adoptive descendants. The affirma- tive was declared to be voted by 7,804,189 to 231,145. The Prince, in formally accepting the imperial dignity, 3 18 THE COURT OF FRANCE. assumed the title of Napoleou III. The new Emperor was at once acknowledged by England, and subsequently, though not till after a greater or less delay, by the other leading powers of Europe. The career of the Emperor is too recent to require to be related in detail. As is well known, it has hitherto been a career of unljroken prosperity. In the January fol- lowing his acceptance of the empire, he married Eugenie, Comtesse de Teba, a lady who had the good fortune to wm general popularity, before she presented the Emperor and the nation with an "Enfant de France." From the first, as President as well as Emperor, Napoleon displayed a strong desire to draw closer the aUiance with Great Britain. The feelmg was warmly reciprocated in this coun- try, and the aggression of Russia, by leading the two pow- ers to unite their arms in resistance to the outrage, has served to render the union as ardent as such a union could possibly be. Should it be as lasting as it is ardent, — and as for the common good of the two countries it is most earnestly to be desired it may be, — it cannot fail to form one of the most abiding glories of the reign of Napo- leon. In March, 1854, France, in conjunction with England, declared war against Russia, and the soldiers of the two countries have stood side by side, winning equal renown, in many a famous field. As was to be expected in a war against such a colossal empu-e, the war has proved a long and costly one. But the very expenditure rendered neces- sary by it has served to show in the most strikmg man- ner the deep hold the Emperor has on the regard of the French peoj^le. It became necessary for the French gov- ernment, in December, 1854, to ask for a loan of 500,000,- 000 francs : in ten days 2,175,000,000 Avere subscribed. Another loan was required in the following July, of 750,000,000 francs, (£30,000,000,) the amount subscribed was 3,652,591,985 francs, (£146,103,680,) or nearly five times the amount required, and of this no less than THE EMPEROR LOUIS NAPOLEON IH. 19 231,920,] 55 francs were made up of subscriptions of fifty francs and under. Tn April, 1 855, the Emperor and Empress visited Eng- land, and in the following August, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert visited Paris; and in each coimtry the re- ception (if the respective sovereigns was of the most splen- did, and with the people of the most enthusiastic, chai'acter. In May, 1855, the Emperor opened a Temple of Concord, the grand Exposition of the arts and industry of all na- tions, which had the effect of attracting to Paris the larg- est number of visitors almost ever known there. Paris itself too has been improved by new streets of almost unrivalled architectural splendor. In March, 1856, the conferences for negotiating a peace between the Western Powers and Russia opened at Paris. And on the sixteenth of the same month, the Emperor was made happy by the birth of a son and an heu' to the Imperial crown. The more recent history of the present Emperor of France is familiar to the pul)lic mind, and hardly requii'es to be I'ehearsed in fm'ther detail on these pages. E y G E M D E >.5 OF TUF EUGENIE, EMPRESS OF FRA.NCE. The full-length portrait of this distiiiguisheJ ornament of the French Court was engraved from a painting hy Winterhalter, and is accompanied by the foUowig sketch : Eugenie, Empress of France, and Countess -Duchess of Teba, was bom at Granada in Spain, May 5, 1826. She is the daughter of Donna Maria JManuola Kirkpatrick of Closebuni, Countess-Dowager de Montijos, Countess Mi- randa, and Duchess of Peraconda ; member of the noble order of Maria Louisa, and first lady of honor to the Queen of Spain. The father of this lady had been English consul at Malaga at the pei'iod of her marriage with the Coimt de Montijos, an otticer in the Spanish army, belong- ing to one of the most ancient of the noble families of Spain. He was connected, more or less closely, with the houses of the Duke de Frias, representative of the ancient Admirals of Castile ; of the Duke of Fyars, and others of the highest rank, including the descendants of the Kings of Arragon. The death of this noldeman, which occurred many years ago, left the Countess Montijos a widow, with a fortune adequate to the maintenance of her position, and two daughters, one of Avliom married the Duke of Alba and Bei-Avick, lineally descended from James II. and Miss Churchill. For Eugenie, the second daughter, a still higher destiny was reserved. In 1851 the Countess Teba, accompa- nied by her mother, paid a lengthened visit to Paris, and was distinguished at the various entertainments given at the Tuileries by the dignity and elegance of her demeanor, and by great personal beauty, of the aristocratic Enghsh 22 THE COURT OF FRANCE. rather than the Spanish type. Her mental gifts were pro- portionably attractive ; for she is rejDorted to be naturally sinrilueUe, and her education, partly conducted in England, was very superior to that generally bestowed on Spanish women, who seldom quit the precincts of their native country. Shortly after the opposition of the other Northern Pow- ers had put an end to the idea of a luaion between the Emperor Louis Napoleon and the Princess Carola Wasa of Sweden, he apprised the council of ministers of his in- tended marriage with the daughter of the Countess Mon- tijos; a measure which excited some disapproval among them, and even led to their temporary withdrawal from office. During the short time which intervened between the pul^lic announcement of the approaching event and its realization, the Countess T^ba and her mother took up their abode in the palace of the Elysee. The marriage was celebrated at noon on the twenty-ninth of January, 1853, at Notre Dame ; and the Emperor and Emjjress, after making their appearance some hours later on the balcony of the Pavilion de I'Horloge at the Tuileries, to receive the acclamations of the miUtitude, adjourned to the com- parative seclusion of St. Cloud. It is almost unnecessary to allude to the magnificence of the preparations made for the ceremony, as they are suffi- ciently recent to be fresh in the memory of the reader. However, the one item of forty-six hundred francs, ex- pended in Point d'Alen^on lace, will suffice to give an idea of their character. Although a union which should have added to the political importance of the nation might probably have been more immediately acceptable to it, no mark of honor and loyalty was witlilield from the Imperial bride. The dotation asked for her of one hundred and thirty thousand francs per annum (the same sum which had been granted to the Duchesse d'Orleans) was eagerly accorded ; and the municipal council of Paris voted six EUGENIE, EMPRESS OF FRANCE. 23 hundred thousand franc?! for the pui'chase of a parure of diamonds, as a present from the city to the Empress. It may he imagined iiow much enthusiasm was excited among so impressible a })eople as the French by the purport of a letter which she addressed to M. Bezet, prefect of the Seine, m reply to this proposal. After warmly thanking the council for their token of regard, she declined the rich gift; alleging that the city was already overbunlened, and that the sum in question would be more usefully employed in the foundation of some charitable institution for the poor and destitute. In accordance with this suggestion, the money was devoted to an establishment for the main- tenance and education of sixty young girls chosen from the working classes of Paris. The life of the Empress Eugenie since her marriage has been comparatively uneventful ; made up of the ordinary routine of state etiquette ; of migrations to the various royal maisom-de-j)laisuncc, varied by an extended progress through France in company with her husband ; and a sojourn for the benefit of her health at Biaritz in the Pyrenees, wliieli has peculiar associations lor her, having been the favorite .' ing their general to range themselves on the side of the deputies. Then* appearance was but momentary — they instantly left the hall, carrying Lucien in the centre of the detachment. Matters now were come to extremity on either side. The council, thrown into the greatest disorder by these repeated military incursions, remained in violent agitation, furious against Bonaparte, but without the cahnness neces- sary to adopt decisive measures. Meantime the sight of Napoleon, almost breathless, and bearing marks of personal violence, excited to the highest the indignation of the military. In broken words he told them, that when he wished to show them the road to lead 30 THE COURT OF FRANCE. the country to victory and fame, "they had answered him with daaro-ers." Do Cries of resentment arose from the soldiery, augmented when the party sent to extricate the president brought huu to the ranks as to a sanctuary. Lucien, who seconded his brother admirably, or rather who led the way in this perilous adventure, mounted on horseback instantly, and called out in a voice naturally deep and sonorous: "Gen- eral, and you soldiers ! The President of the Council of Five Hundred proclauns to you, that factious men, with drawn daggers, have interrupted the deliberations of the Assembly. He authorizes you to employ force against these disturbers. The Assembly of Five Hundred is dis- solved ! " Murat, deputed by Bonaparte to execute the commands of Lucien, entered the Orangerie with drums beating, at the head of a detachment with fixed bayonets. He sum- moned the deputies to disperse on their perU, while an officer of the constitutional guard called out he could be no longer answerable for their safety. Cries of fear became now mingled with vociferations of rage, execrations of ab- horrence, and shouts of " Vive la Bcjmblique." An officer then mounted the president's seat, and summoned the rep- resentatives to retire. " The General," said he, " has given orders." Some of the deputies and spectators began now to leave the hall ; the greater part continued firm, and sustained the shouts by which they rejn'obated this mihtary intru- sion. The drums at length struck ujJ, and drowned further remonstrance. " Forward, grenadiers," said the officer who commanded the party. They levelled their muskets, and advanced as if to the charge. The deputies seem hitherto to have retained a lingering hope that their persons would be re- garded as inviolable. They now fled on all sides, most of them jmnping from the windows of the Orangerie, and NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 37 leaving behind tlioni their official caps, scarfs, and gowns. Li a veiy few minutes the apartments were entirely clear; and thus, furnishing at its conclusion a striking parallel to the scene which ended the Long Parliament of Cliarles the First's time, terminated the last Democratical Assembly of France. THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE. It Avas Fouclio who first ventured to touch the fatal string of the huperial divorce. One Sunday, at Fontaine- bleau, he drew Josephme aside into a recess of a window, and, after dweUing on the necessities of the empire, gave the hint of a separation; which he represented as tlie most sublime of sacrifices. Josephine instantly ordered him out of her presence, and went to demand of Napoleon whether the minister had any authority for this proceedmg. The Em[)eror answered in the negative ; but when Josephuie went on to demand the dismissal of Fouche, he refused to comply. From that hour she must have been convinced that her doom was fixed. Napoleon cherished a strong attachment to his little grandchild, the son of Hortense and of his brother Louis. The boy was extremely l)eautiful, and developed all those noble and spirited traits of character which peculiarly de- lighted the Emperor. Napoleon had apparently determined to make the young prince his heir. This was so generally tlie understanding, both in France and in Holland, that Josephine was quite at ease, and serene days dawned agam upon her heart. Early in the spring of 1807 tliis child, upon whom such destinies were depending, then five years of age, was seized suddenly and violently with the croup, and in a few hours died. The blow fell iipon the head of Josephine with most appalling power. Deep as was her grief at the loss of the child, she was overwhelmed with uncontrollable anguish in view of those fearful consequences which she shuddered to 40 THE COURT OF FRANCE. contemj)late. She knew that Naijoleon loved her fondly, but she also kuew the strength of his ambition, and that lie would make any sacrifice of his affection, which, in his view, would subserve the interests of his power and his glory. For three days she shut herself up in her room, and was continually bathed m tears. The sad intelligence was conveyed to Napoleon when he was far from home, ui the midst of the Prussian campaign. He had been victorious, almost miraculously victorious, over his enemies. He had gained accessions of power such as, in the wildest dreams of youth, he had hardly im- agined. All opposition to his sway was now apparently crushed. Napoleon had become the creator of kings, and the proudest monarchs of Europe were constrained to do his bidding. It was in an hour of exultation that the moui'nful tidings I'eached him. He sat down in silence, buried his face in his hands, and for a long time seemed lost in the most painful musings. He was heard mourn- fully and anxiously to repeat to liimself again and again, " To whom shall I leave all this ? " The struggle in his mind between his love for Josephme and his ambitious de- sire to found a new dynasty, and to transmit his name and fame to all posterity, was fearful. It was manifest in his cheek, in his restless eye, in the loss of appetite and of sleep. But the stern wiU of Bonaparte was unrelenting in its pm-poses. With an energy which the world has never seen siu'passed, he had chosen his part. It was the pur- pose of his soul — the purpose before which everything had to bend — to acquire the glory of making France the most illustrious, powerful, and hajopy nation earth had ever seen. For this he was ready to sacrifice comfort, ease, and his sense of right. For this he was ready to sunder the strongest ties of affection. Josephine knew Napoleon. She was fiUly aware of his boundless ambition. With almost insupportable anguish she wept over the death of this idolized child, and, with a THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE. 41 trembling heart, awaited her husband's return. Mysterious hints began to fill the journals, of ihc couteniplated divorce, and of the alliance of Napoleon with various princesses of foreign courts. In October, 1807, Napoleon returned from Vienna. He greeted Josephine -with the greatest kindness, but .she soon perceived that his mind was ill at ease, and that he was pondering the fearful question. He appeared sad and em- barrassed. He had frequent private interviews with his ministers. A general feeling of constraint pervaded the court. Napoleon scarcely ventured to look upon his wife, as if apprehensive that the very sight of one whom he had loved so well might cause him to waver in his Cwm purpose. Josephine was in a state of the mcjst feverish solicitude, and yet was compelled to appear calm ami un- constrained. As yet she had only fearfid forebodings of her impending doom. She watched, with most excited appre- hension, every movement of the Emi)eror's eye, every in- tonation of his voice, every sentiment lie uttered. Each day some new and trivial indication confirmed her ihnra. Her husband became more reserved, alisented himself Irom her society, and the private access between their apartments was closed. He now seldom entered licr room, and when he did so, he invariably knocked. Ami yet not one word had passed between him and Josephine upon the fearful subject. Whenever Josephine heard the sound ol' his ap- proaching footstej)S, the fear that he was coming with the terrible announcement of se{)aration innncdiately caused such violent palpitations of the heart, that it was with the utmost dilhculty she could totter across the floor, even when supporting herself by leaning against the walls, and catching at the articles of furniture. The months of October and November passed away, and, while the Emperor was discussing with his cabinet the al- liance into Avhich he should enter, he had not yet sum- moned com'age to break the subject to Josephine. The 6 42 THE COURT OF FRANCE. evidence is indubitable that he experienced intense anguish in view of the separation; ])ut this did not influence his iron will to swerve from its purpose. The grandeur of his fame, and the magnitude of his power, were now such that there was not a royal family in Europe which would not have felt honored in conferring upon him a bride. It was at first contemplated that he should marry some prin- cess of the Bourbon family, and thus add to the stability of his throne by concihatmg the Royahsts of France. A princess of Saxony was proposed. Some weighty consider- ations urged an alhance with the majestic Empire of Rus- sia, and some advances were made to the court of St. Petersburg, having in view a sister of the Emperor Alex- ander. It was finally decided that proposals should be made to the court of Vienna for Maria Louisa, daughter of the Emperor of Austria. At length the fatal day arrived for the announcement to Josephine. It was the last day of November, 1809. The Emperor and Empress dined at Fontainebleau alone. She seems to have had a presentiment that her doom was sealed, for all that day she had been in her retu-ed apart- ment, weeping bitterly. As the dinner-hour approached she bathed her swollen eyes, and tried to regain com- posure. They sat down at the table in sUence. Napoleon did not speak; Josephine could not trust her voice to utter a word. Neither ate a mouthful. Course after course was brought in and removed imtouched. A mortal paleness revealed the anguish of each heart. Napoleon, in his embarrassment, mechanically, and apparently uncon- sciously, struck the edge of his glass with his knife, while lost in thought. A more melancholy meal proliably was never witnessed. The attendants around the table seemed to catch the infection, and moved softly and silently in the discharge of their duties, as if they were in the chamber of the dead. At last the ceremony of dinner was over, the attendants were dismissed, and Napoleon, rising and THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE. 43 closing the door with his own hand, was left alone with Josephine. Another moment of most painful silence en- sued, when the Emperor, pale as death, and tremlaluig in every nerve, approached the Empress. He took her hand, placed it upon his heart, and in faltering accents said : " Josephine ! my own good Josephine ! you know how I have loved you. It is to you alone that I owe the only few moments of hapj^iness I have known in the world. Josephine ! my destiny is stronger than my will. My dearest affections must yield to the interests of France." Josephine's brain reeled ; her blood ceased to circulate ; she fainted, and fell lifeless iipon the floor. Napoleon, alarmed, threw open the door of the saloon and called for help. Attendants from the ante-room immediately entered. Napoleon took a taper from the mantel, and uttering not a word, but pale and trembling, motioned to the Coimt de Beaumont to take the Empress in his arms. She was still unconscious of everything, but began to murmur, in tones of anguish : " Oh, no ! you cannot surely do it. You would not kiU me." The Emperor led the way, through a dark passage, to the staircase which conducted to the apartment of the Empress. The agitation of Napoleon seemed now to increase. He uttered some incoherent sentences about a violent nervous attack ; and, finding the stau's too steep and narroAV for the Count de Beaumont to bear the body of the helpless Josephine unassisted, he gave the light to an attendant, and, supporting her limbs himself, they reached the door of her bedroom. Napoleon then, dismiss- ing his male attendants, and laying Josephuie upon her bed, rung for her waiting-women. He hung over her with an expression of the most intense affection and anxiety imtil she began to revive. But the moment consciousness seemed returning, he left the room. Napoleon did not even throw himself upon his bed that night. He paced the floor rmtil the dawn of the morning. The royal snr- 44 THE COURT OF FRANCE. geon, Corvisart, passed the night at the bedside of the Empress. Every hour the restless yet unrelenting Emperor caEed at her door to inquire concerning her situation. " On recovering from my swoon," says Josephine, " I perceived that Corvisart was in attendance, and my poor daughter Hortense weeping over me. No ! no ! I cannot describe the horror of my situation during that night! Even the interest he affected to take in my sufferings seemed to me additional cruelty. Oh ! how much reason had I to dread becoming an Empress ! " A fortnight now passed away, during which Napoleon and Josephine saw but little of each other. During this time there occurred the anniversary of the coronation, and of the Victory of Austerhtz. Paris was filled ^vith re- joicing. The bells rung their merriest peals. The me- tropolis was refulgent with illuminations. In these festivi- ties Josephine was compelled to appear. She knew that the sovereigns and princes then assembled in Paris were hiformed of her ajiproaching disgrace. In all these sounds of triumph she heard Ijut the kneU of her own doom. And though a careful observer would have detected mdi- cations in her moistened eye and her pallid cheek of the secret woe which was consuming her heart, her habitual affability and grace never, in public, for one moment for- sook her. Hortense, languid and sorrow-stricken, was with her mothei". Eugene was summoned from Italy. He hastened to Paris, and his first interview was with his mother. From her saloon he went directly to the cabinet of Napoleon, and inquired of the Emperor if he had decided to obtaia a divorce from the Empress. Napoleon, who was very strongly attached to Eugene, made no reply, but pressed his hand as an expression that it was so. Eugene imme- diately dropped the hand of the Emperor, and said, — " Sire, m that case permit me to withdraw from your service." THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE. 45 . " How ! " exclaimed Napoleon, looking upon him sadly ; " will you, Eugene, my adopted son, leave me ? " " Yes, sire," Eugene replied, fii-mly ; " the son of her who is no longer Empress cannot remain Viceroy. I will fol- low my mother into her retreat. She must now find her consolation in her children." Napoleon was not without feelings. Tears fiUed his eyes. In a mournful voice, tremvdous with emotion, he replied : " Eugene, you know the stern necessity which compels this measure, and will you forsake me ? Who, then — should I have a son, the object of my desire and preserver of my interests — who would watch over the child, when I am ab- sent? If I die, who will prove to him a father? Who wiU bring him up ? Who is to make a man of him ? " Eugene was deeply affected, and, takiag Napoleon's arm, they retired and conversed a long time together. The noble Josephine, ever sacrificing her own feelings to promote the happiness of others, urged her son to remaia the friend of Napoleon. "The Emperor," she said, "is yom* benefactor, — your more than father, to whom you are indebted for everything, and to whom, therefore, you owe a boundless obedience." The fatal day for the consummation of the divorce at length arrived. It was the fifteenth of December, 1809. Napoleon had assembled all the kings, princes, and prin- cesses who were members of the ImjDcrial famUy, and also the most illustrious officers of the Empire, in the grand saloon of the Tuileries. Every individual present was op- pressed with the melancholy grandeur of the occasion. Napoleon thus addressed them : — " The pohtical interests of my monarchy, the wishes of my people, which have constantly guided my actions, re- quire that I should transmit to an heir, inheriting my love for the people, the throne on which Providence has placed me. For many years I have lost all hopes of having chil- dren by my beloved spouse, the Empress Josephine. It is 46 THE COURT OF FRANCE. this consideration which induces me to sacrifice the sweet- est affections of my heart, to consult only the good of my subjects, and to desire the dissolution of our marriage. Arrived at the age of forty years, I may indulge a reason- able hope of living long enough to rear, in the spirit of my own thoughts and disposition, the children with which it may please Providence to bless me. God knows what such a determination has cost my heart; but there is no sacrifice which is above my courage, when it is proved to be for the mterests of France. Far from having any cause of complaint, I have nothing to say but in praise of the attachment and tenderness of my beloved wife. She has embelhshed fifteen years of my life, and the remembrance of them will l^e forever engraved on my heart. She was crowned by my hand ; she shall retain always the rank and title of Empress. Above all, let her never doubt my feelings, or regard me but as her best and dearest friend." Josephine, her eyes filled with tears, with a faltering voice replied : " I respond to all the sentiments of the Em- peror in consenting to the dissolution of a marriage which henceforth is an ol)stacle to the happiness of France, by depriving it of the blessing of being one day governed by the descendants of that great man who was evidently raised up by Providence to efface the evils of a terrible revolution, and to restore the altar and the throne and social order. But his marriage will in no respect change the sentiments of my heart. The Emj^eror will ever find m me his best friend. I know what this act, conmiended by policy and exalted interests, has cost his heart, but we both glory in the sacrifices we make for the good of the country. I feel elevated in giving the greatest proof of attachment and devotion that was ever given npon earth." Such were the sentiments which were expressed in pub- lic ; but in private Josephine surrendered herself to the imrestrained dommion of her anguish. No language can depict the intensity of her woe. For sis months she wept THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE. 47 SO incessantly that her eyes were nearly blmded with grief. Upon the ensuing day the council were again assembled in the grand saloon, to witness the legal consummation of the divorce. The Emperor entered the room dressed in the imposing robes of state, but pallid, care-worn, and wretched. Low tones of voice, harmonizing with the mournful scene, filled the room. Napoleon, apart by himself, leaned against a pillar, folded his arms upon his l^reast, and ui perfect silence, apparently lost in gloomy thought, remained mo- tionless as a statue. A circular table was placed in the centre of the apartment, and upon this there was a writing apparatus of gold. A vacant arm-chair stood before the table. Never did a multitude gaze upon the scaffold, the block, or the guillotine with more awe than the assembled lords and ladies m this gorgeous saloon contemplated these instruments of a more dreadful execution. At length the mournful silence was interrupted by the opening of a side door, and the entrance of Josephme. The pallor of death was upon her brow, and the submission of despair nei-ved her into a temporary cahnness. She was leaning upon the ann of Hortense, who, not possessing the fortitude of her mother, was entirely unaljle to control her feelings. The sympathetic daughter, immediately upon en- termg into the room, burst into teai's, and continued soIj- bing most convulsively during the whole remaining scene. The assembly respectfully arose upon the entrance of Jose- phine, and all were moved to tears. With that grace which ever distinguished her movements, she advanced silently to the seat provided for her. Sitting down, and leaning her forehead upon her hand, she listened to the readmg of the act of separation. Nothing distm-bed the sepulchral silence of the scene but the convulsive sobbings of Hortense, blended with the mournful tones of the reader's voice. Eu- gene, in the mean time, pale and trembhng as an as2:)en leaf, had taken a position by the side of his mother. Silent tears were trickling down the cheeks of the Empress. 48 THE COURT OF FRANCE. As soon as the reading of the act of separation was fin- ished, Josephine for a moment pressed her handkerchief to her weejjing eyes, and then rising, in clear and mnsical, but tremulous tones, 2:)ronounced the oath of acceptance. She then sat down, took the pen, and affixed her signature to the deed which sundered the dearest hopes and the fondest ties which human hearts can feel. Poor Eugene could endure tliis anguish no longer. His brain reeled, his heart ceased to beat, and he fell lifeless upon the floor. Josephine and Hortense retired with the attendants who bore out the insensible form of the affectionate son and brother. It was a fitting termination of this mournful but sublime tragedy. But the anguish of the day was not yet closed. Jose- phine, half delirious with grief, had another scene still more jjainful to pass through in taking a final adieu of him who had been her husband. She remained in her chamber, in heart-rending, speechless grief, until the hour arrived in which Napoleon usually retired for the night. The Em- peror, restless and wretched, had just placed himself in the bed from which he had ejected his most flxithful and de- voted wife, and the attendant was on the point of leaving the room, when the private door of his chamber was slowly opened, and Josephine tremblingly entered. Her eyes Avere swollen with grief, her hair dishevelled, and she appeared in all the dishabille of unutterable anguish. She tottered into the middle of the room, and approached the bed ; tlien, irresolutely stopping, she buried her face in her hands and burst into a flood of tears. A feeling of delicacy' seemed for a moment to have arrested her steps, — a consciousness that she had now no right to enter the chamber of Napo- leon; but in another moment aU the pentrup love of her heart burst forth, and, forgetting everything in her anguish, she threw herself upon the bed, clasped Napoleon's neck in her arms, and exclaiming, " My husband ! my husband ! " sobbed as though her heart were breaking. The miperial THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE. 40 spirit of Napoleon was for the moment entirely vanqnislied, antl he also wept almost convulsively. He assured Jose- phine of his love — of his ardent and undying love. In every way he tried to soothe and comfort her, and for some time they remained locked in each other's embrace. The attendant was dismissed, and for an hour they con- tinued together m this last private intei'view. Josephine then, in the experience of an intensity of anguish which few hearts have ever known, parted forever from the hus- band whom she had so long, so fondly, and so fliithfully loved. After the Empress had retired, with a desolated heart, to her chamber of vmnatural widowhood, the attendant en- tered the apartment of Napoleon to remove the lights. He found the Emperor so buried beneath the bedclothes as to be invisible. Not a word was uttered. The lit^hts were removed, and the unhoppy nionarch was left in dark- ness and silence to the dreadful comj)anionship of his own thoughts. The next morning the death-like pallor' of his cheek, his sunken eye, and the haggard expression of his countenance, attested that the Emperor had passed the night in sleeplessness and suflering. Great as was the wrong Avhich Napoleon thus inflicted upon the noble Josephine, every one must be sensible of a certain kind of grandeur which pervades this renowned tragedy m the life and history of the Emperor Napoleon I. h'lj St-ciUm U/:^ ^ /UiUi/ftUj/i. it^'r/fi' jjit if'il^DS3€E W/\lPTQ)ILEffi'ra ARSIJ !H"!S WCFE TiHlE raOR'CEiS (SLOTDLE'E. PRINCE AND PRINCESS NAPOLEON. Napoleon Joseph Charles Paul Bonaparte, second and only sui'viving son of Jerome Bonaparte by his second wile, the Princess Frederique of Wiirtemberg, was born September 9, 1822. He was educated chieily in Austria and Italy, but he subsequently travelled in Switzerland, America, and Brussels, in each of wliich places he resided some time. His first appearance on the political stage was after the recall of the Bonaparte family to Paris, xmder the presidency of Prince Louis Napoleon. Being elected a member of the Legislative Assembly, the Prince Napoleon distinguished himself by his energetic sujjport of ultra opinions, and soon became the recognized leader of the party of the Mountain. Since the accession of Napoleon HI. to the Imperial crown, Prince Napoleon has abandoned extreme political views, and has become one of the most devoted and valuable supporters of the policy of the Emperor, by whom he is much es- teemed and trusted. When the Anglo-French army was despatched to the Crimea, Prince Napoleon received the command of a division of the French army. He fought with distinction at the Alma ; but his health gave way soon after the army had encamped before Sebastopol, and he was compelled to resign his command and return to France. Of the grand coimcil of war which afterward met at Paris to arrange the campaign of 1855, Prmce Napoleon was a member. But he was soon called to a more peace- ful pursuit. When the grand exposition of the arts and 52 THE COURT OF FEANCE. manufactures of all nations at Paris was fixed to take place in 1855, Prince Napoleon was appointed president and chief director of the whole proceedings. To this great work he devoted all his energies, and it is universally ad- mitted that much of its success was owing to his great knowledge, tact, administrative ability, and imtiring dili- gence. The jurors, and especially the foreign jurors, were particularly indebted to him for the most friendly assists ance and constant support ; and the exhibitors owed no little to his zeal and sympathy. The Prince Najjoleon had devoted great attention to political, social, and commercial studies ; and in respect to the commercial code of France he is understood to hold opinions far more liberal than those of the great bulk even of the commercial public of that coimtry. The visit of Prince Napoleon to this country in its j)res- ent exciting crisis, under the supposed and kind auspices of the Emperor, in part at least, and to observe carefully our national movements, will form an interesting chapter in the Prince's personal history. Such a mission, so unob- trusive and unassuming on the part of the Prince, to learn the exact state of things on the great field of our national struggle, and thus be able to convey to the Emperor the result of his careful observations, is worthy of the Prince and the renowned sovereign who now fills the Imperial throne of France. The Prince is first cousin to the Em- peror, and next to the Prince Imperial is heir to the throne of the Napoleons. The Prince, as is generally be- lieved, possesses the entire confidence of the Emperor, his august cousin, and was thus well fitted to undertake such a mission to the United States as he has performed. The Prince is now in his forty-first year, and no one looking at his finely developed head can fail to see the imj^ress of the lineaments of Napoleon I. The reader is referred to the portrait itself to fill out his own imj^ression, only add- ing that the msignia of the honors conferred upon him PRINCE AND PRINCESS NAPOLEON. 53 are such as he wore on his breast when his photograph was taken in Paris about two years since. The Princess Clotilde — her full name is Marie Therese Louise Clotilde — is the daughter of Victor Emmanuel, King of Sardinia, and now King of Italy, by the wonder- ful renovation of that classic land and its restoration to the great family of nations. The Princess was born in Turin in 1843, and is now in her twentieth year. Her marriage with the Prince was supposed at the time to form, or to increase, the strong bonds of amity between the two governments, France and Sardmia. Thus these two personages form a political and historic link between two empires, even with the colossal Alps intervening. In size the Prmcess is rather pciite, and has an Italian complexion and features, and is very prepossessing and un- assuming in her manners. The reader is referred to her graceful portrait to complete his impressions of the appear- ance of this amiable personage. The kind treatment which the Prince received by the authorities in this country at Washington, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston, and wherever he went, is too recent and well known to re- quire mention in these pages. WAPOLEOiM DIM my ©owe ip®ipe pdius ^foo to soski ¥1111! NAPOLEON I. AND THE CONCORDAT. The scene represented in the engraving lias long since passed into historic annals. It is a permanent chapter in the history of these august personages. From 1801, till 1804, Pius VII. enjoyed tranquillity at Rome. In May, 1804, Napoleon was proclaimed Emperor, and some time after he wrote to the Pope, requesting him to crown him solemnly at Paris. After considerable hesitation Pius con- sented, and set off from Rome at the beginning of that year. The ceremony of the coronation took place in the Cathedral of Notre Dame, after which the Pope spent several months in Paris, visiting the public establishments, and receivmg the homage of men of all parties, who were won by his unassuming, yet dignified behavior, and his unaffected piety. In May, 1805, he returned to Rome. For a number of years subsequent the Pope was occu- pied with aflairs of state and efforts to adjust the comj^li- cated difficulties which arose by the inroads and edicts of Napoleon. On the seventeenth of May, 1809, Napoleon, who was then making war against Austria, issued a decree from Vienna, in which he resumed the grant of his illus- trious predecessor Charlemagne, and united the remainder of the Roman States to the French Empire, leavmg to the Pope his palaces and an income of two million of francs. On the tenth of June, 1809, the Pope issued a bull of ex- communication against all the perpetrators and abettors of the invasion of Rome and of the territories of the Holy See. The bull was affixed to the gates of the principal churches of Rome and in other public places. The French commander, 56 THE COURT OF FRANCE. Miollis, being afraid of an insurrection of the people of Rome, who had shown unequivocal signs of attachment to their sovereign, thought it expedient to remove Pius from the capital. The Swiss guard made no resistance, having orders to that effect from the Pope ; and, protesting that he " yielded to force," Pius takmg his breviary under his arm, accompanied the General to the gate where his car- riage was ready, and drove off under an escort. He was first taken to Grenoble in Dauphme, from whence he was removed, by order of Napoleon, to Savona, where he re- mained till June 1812, when he was removed to Fontaine- bleau, by an order of Napoleon. During his stay at Savona, Napoleon convoked a council at Paris of the bishojjs of his empire, Init he found that assembly less docile than he expected, and he dissolved it without any conclusion bemg come to. In short, Napoleon found that unarmed priests were more difficult to conquer than the armies of one half of Europe. The plan of Na2Doleon was to have the Pope settled at Avignon, or some other town of his empire, as his subject and his j^ensionary, and to have himself the nomination not only of the bishops, but of the cardinals also, by which means he would have added to his already overbearing temporal power the in- calculaljle support of a spiritual authority which extends over a great part of the world. The resistance of Pius disappointed his views. Napoleon at last imagined that by i-emoving Pius to Fontainebleau, he might succeed in over- coming his firmness. Pius was again obliged to make a long journey with the greatest secrecy. He arrived at Fon- tamebleau in June, 1812, and was lodged in the Imperial palace and treated with marked respect. Napoleon had set out on his Russian expedition. After his return from that disastrous campaign, in December, 1812, he went to see the Pope, embraced him, and treated him with studied at- tention; he also allowed several cardinals who were at Paris to repair to Fontainebleau; and at last, chiefly NAPOLEON I. AND THE CONCORDAT. 57 through theu' persuasions, he jjrevailed upon the Pope to sign a new concordat tlie twenty-fifth of January, 1813. Napoleon hastened to j)ubUsh the articles of the Concordat, and to give them the force of laws of the empire; after which he granted free access to the Pope, to aU cardinals and others who chose to repair to Fontaiuebleau. ^' 1 TS-aiSEATEIIElQ) Ig.V TIHIE MO® S N TJilE3!H! VI!S!1 LOUIS XVI., KING OF FEANCE. Among the many of this world's magnates, monarchs and potentates, kings and emperors, it has fallen to the lot of comparatively few to sufler a violent death. Of this num- ber was the amiable l^nt unfortunate King of France, Louis XVI. He lived in troublous times. The terrible storms of the French Revolution had 1jeen long gathering by the misrule of previous kings. The dark clouds had become thick and murky and highly chai'ged with pohtical Hgh1> nings and thunderings. At length the storm burst, and a dreadful carnage ensued. France was deluged with blood. Among the numerous victims was Louis XVI., whose end forms a sad tragedy in historic annals. Louis XVI., King of France, was the second son of the Prince Dauphin, son of Louis XV., and of Maria Jose^sha of Saxony, daughter of Frederick Augustus, Kmg of Po- land. He was Ijorn at Versailles, and named Due de Berri, 1754, became dauphin by the death of his father, 17G5, and was married to Marie Antoinette of Austria, 1770. Amiable, irresolute, and timid, he succeeded to the stained and totteriiig throne of his grandfather when twenty years of age, 1774, and was cro^vned at Rheims, amidst the en- thusiastic applause of his people, June 11, 1775. Appar- ently no sovereign ever ascended the throne imder hap- pier auspices; but really no European throne ever stood on the verge of a more terrible abyss ; the incapacit}^ and corruption of the governing l^ody being already confronted with the philosophic pride and wild vigor of the governed, 60 THE COURT OF FRANCE. — just awakening to a sense of the " rights of man." He commenced his reign happily by promoting many useful reforms, and calling the most upright men to his ministry, — among others, Turgot and Malesherbes ; but it was soon evident that the resources of the State were utterly dispro- portionate to its expenditure, and discoveries were con- tinually made which brought the court arid government into contempt. As usual in such cases, one palliative suc- ceeded another, while the root of the evil remained un- touched ; and when the distresses of the people were expressed in open disaffection, the ancient machinery of government was found insufficient, either as a means of effectuating the will of the people, or of controlling their blind impulses by the imposition of a more enlight- ened authority. The issue of this was the convocation of the " Notables," who met twice, under the ministries of Calonne and Lomenie Brienne, 1787 and 1788, and of the " Estates-General," wliich assembled at the beginning of May, 1789. This body declared for a "constitution" as the first necessity of France, and took a solemn and united oath not to separate until they had made it. The real conflict between the people and the com't was commenced by this act; the disposition to insurrection acquired a form of legality, and the passions of those who might be capable of leading the populace were fairly imloosed. Mirabeau, Lafliyette, Danton, Camille, Desmoulins, Eobespierre, and Marat, are among the names of such. As a first step, the " third estate," or plebeians in the " Estates-General," re- fused to acknowledge the clergy and the noblesse as sepa- rate bodies, and many of these joining them, they assumed the name of a " National Assembly." Against this body the guards refused to act, and the people soon enrolled in clubs, and, in a national militia, surprised the government by storming the Bastile, July 14th, and committed some deplorable excesses. The National Assembly, presuming on its actual power under these circumstances to make the LOUIS XVI., KING OF FRANCE. 61 constitution, called itself " the Constituent Assembly," and promulgated the "rights of man" as a basis. To the ex- citement of these occurrences was added the maddening effects of a famine in the succeeding autumn, Avhen the "worst forms of clubbism commenced, and the Marats, Car- riers, Henriots, and Tinvilles, rose into notice. In June, 1790, the King attempted to fly, and was arrested at Varennes, the peoj^le meeting to petition for his depo- sition being dispersed by musketry on his return. On the thirtieth of September following he accepted the constitu- tion, and on the first of October the first biennial parha- ment, or Legislative Assembly, met for the transaction of business. The power of " veto " having been granted to the King, by this new compact, he was imhappy enough to use it against every important measure proposed by the parliament. In the course of another year his deposition was again agitated, tumultuous processions took place, the palace itself was invaded, and the King compelled to wear the red bonnet, or cap of liljerty. As time wore on, the republicans became thoroughly organized, and in August, 1792, the Marseilles were quartered in Paris, the Tuileries besieged, the Swiss Guard massacred, and the royal family imprisoned in the Temple. The party of Danton now oc- cupied the foreground of events, and prepared to assemble a "National Convention," and resist the threatened invasion of the emigrants and the Germans under the Duke of Brunswick. The first act of this body, which met towards the end of September, was to pronounce on the fate of Louis XVI., who was declared guilty of a conspiracy against the general safety of the state, by six hundred and ninety- three votes out of seven hundred and twenty-nine, and to be worthy of death by a majority of four hundred and thirty-three against two hundred and eighty-eight. Danton uttered what the National Convention felt under these cir- cumstances : " The coalesced kings threaten us ; we hurl at their feet, as a gage of battle, the head of a king." 62 THE COURT OF FRANCE. The French historian, Emile de Bonnechose, thus de- scribes the closing scene of this drama in the life of Louis XVI.: — " For the last foiu" months, the unfortunate monarch had languished in the tower of the Temple, with the Queen, Madame Elizabeth, his sister, an angel of gentleness and goodness, and his two children, dividing his hours betwixt the care of their education and reading. The city exer- cised a cruel surveillance over its captives ; and labored, by overwhelming them with mortifications, to prepare them for the frightful catastrophe which awaited them. The dis- cussion on the trial of the King was opened in the Con- vention on the thirteenth of November ; and the principal charges against him arose out of papers foimd at the Tuileries, in an iron chest, the secret of which had been revealed to the minister Eoland. Therein were discovered all the plottings and intrigues of the court against the revolution, as well as the arrangements with Mirabeau and the General Bouille. Other papers, too, found in the offices of the civil list, seemed to establish the fact that Louis XVL had not been altogether a stranger to the movements negotiated in Europe in his favor. As king, however, the constitution had declared him inviolable ; be- sides, he was dejiosed, and could not, Ijiit in defiance of every law, be condemned for acts anterior to his deposi- tion. The Montagnards themselves felt all the illegality of the proceedings directed against him. Eobespierre, in de- manding his death, repudiated all forms, as fictions, and relied, as did Saint-Just, solely on reasons of state. ' What,' said the latter, 'have not good citizens and true friends of liljcrty to fear, when they see the axe treml^le in your hands, and a people, in the very dawn of its freedom, re- specting the memory of its chains ? ' The Mountain party, in earnestly laboring for the condemnation of the King, had a further ol^ject than the single one of punishing him. They were anxious to crush the Gironde, which had openly LOUIS XVI., KING OF FRANCE. 63 manifested a desire to save him, and to arrive at power, by prolonging tlie revolutionary movements tlirough the means of this frightful covj) d'etat. The large majority of the assembly persisted in the determination to submit this great process to judicial forms ; and Louis XVI., who had already been separated from his family, appeared as a cul- prit before the Convention, whose jurisdiction he did not challenge. His countenance was firm and noble ; his an- swers were precise, touching, and almost always triumphant. Conducted back to the Temple, he demanded a defender, and named Target and Tronchet. The first of these re- fused the office ; and the venerable Malesherbes offered himself in his place, and wrote to the Convention in these memorable words : ' Twice have I been called to the coun- cils of hiin who was my master, hi the days when that function was an object of ambition to all men: I owe him the same service, now that it is one which many find dan- gerous.' His request, which was granted, deeply aflected Louis XVL When he appeared before him, the monarch pressed him in his arms, and said, with tears in his eyes : ' You expose your own life, and will not save miae.' Tronchet and Malesherbes immediately set about the prep- aration of the King's defence, and associated with them- selves M. de Seze, by whom it was pronounced, and who concluded his pathetic pleading by these true and solemn words : ' Placed on the throne at twenty years of age, Louis carried thither the example of morality, justice, and economy. He brought with him no weakness, and no cor- rupt passions. He was the unvarymg friend of his people. That people desired the destruction of a burdensome im- post — and Louis destroyed it ; the people desired the abo- lition of servitude — and Louis abolished it ; the peoj^le solicited reforms — and Louis gave them; the people sought to alter its laws — the King consented ; the people desired that their ahenated rights shovdd be restored to millions of Frenchmen — and Louis restored them ; the people sighed 64 THE COURT OF FRANCE. for liberty — and the King bestowed it. The glory cannot be denied to Louis of having even anticipated the wishes of his people in his sacrifices ; and yet he it is whom you are asked to . Citizens, I dare not speak it ! I pause before the majesty of history. Eemember that his- tory shall hereafter judge yoiu" judgment of to-day, and that the judgment of history will be that of ages ! ' But the passions of the judges were blind and implacable ; an unanimous vote declared Louis guilty, and the appeal to the people which the Girondins demanded was refused. " It only now remained to decide what punislmient should be inflicted. The ferment in Paris was at its height ; a furious multitude siuTOunded the door of the Assembly, denouncing frightful menaces against all who should incline to mercy. At length, after forty hours of nominal dehberation, the President Vergniaud announced the result of the votes. Out of one hundred and twenty- one, there was a majority of twenty-six for death. Male- sherbes endeavored to address the Assembly, but his voice was choked by sobs. A respite was demanded, but in vain ; and the fatal sentence was pronounced. Louis had one last and heart-rending interview with his family, after his condemnation, and then prepared himself for death. He slept calmly, received the offices of the Church, and confided his last wishes to his faithful and only remamiug servant, Clery. Shortly afterwards, Sauterre arrived, and Louis went forth to execution. He ascended the scaffold with a firm step ; and, on his knees, received the benedic- tion of the priest, who thus addressed him : ' Son of Saint Louis, ascend to heaven ! ' He then suffered his hands to be tied, and turned to the multitude. ' I die innocent,' he said ; ' I forgive my foes ; and for you, wretched people ! ' — here his voice was drowned in the roll of the drums. The executioners seized him, and, in another instant, he had ceased to hve. Thus perished, on the twenty-first of January, 1793, after a reign of seventeen years, one of LOUIS XVI., KING OF FRANCE. 65 those kings who have most illustrated the throne by their virtues. lie had the honesty of intention necessary for originating reforms, but wanted the strength of character necessary for their enforcement, — the firmness which might have enabled him to direct the revolution, and bring it to a favorable issue." ns f j-tjy o/tTi'i./'. J-'/UL-f //i£, ijrf/.," ,f/ / r^-^ /f'. M AlPJOA AMYPDNETTll, SiKDPlC Ti EJSECttJT'flP F1 QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. Marie Antoinette Josephe Jeanne de Lorraine, Archduch- ess of Austria, daughter of Francis I, Emperor of Germany, and of Maria Theresa, Empress of Germany and Queen of Hungary and Bohemia, was born on the second of Novem- bei", 1755. Her mother a2)pears to have destined her for France from her earhest years. Everything was done to insure " an air of Versailles ; " from the books of Paris to its fashions, from a French tutor, the Abbe de Vermond, to a French hair-dressei', she was surrounded by nothing but French associations. When, in 1766, Madame Geoffrin was at Vienna caressing the charming Uttle archduchess, she could not resist declaring that she was beautiful as an angel, and ought to be in France. " Take her with you ! take her with you ! " was the response of Maria Theresa. Marie Antoinette left Austria for France on the seventh of May, 1770. A pavilion had been erected at the fron- tiers of the latter country on an island of the Ehinc near Strasbourg. It is related in the " Memoires de Madame de Campan," that when the Archduchess attained this point she had to change her dress even to her chemise and stockings, so that nothing should remain to her of a coun- try no longer her own. Etiquette surely became alike barbarous and tyrannical when it thus exacted the utter rejection of the country of nativity for that of adoption. It was, to say the least of it, a humiliating concession made by an Austrian Archduchess to the vainglory of France. Well might Marie Antoinette, received by the Comte de Noailles, be described as going "au-devant de la 68 THE COURT OF FRANCE. France, emue, tremblaute, les yeiix humides et brillants de larmes." The ceremony of reception, or of "remise," as our authors have it, as if a liale of goods was concerned, ])eing over, the future Dauphine made her pubHc entry into Strasbourg in the King's carriages. Prince Louis de Rohan received her at the cathedral in pontifical robes. " It is the soul of Maria Theresa," exclaimed the courtly monk — miserable descendant of Henry and Anne of the same name — " which is going to unite itself to the soul of the Bourljons ! " The interval between Strasbourg and Paris is now tra- versed by express in nine hours and a half It took Marie Antoinette seven days to reach Compiegne by Nan- cy, Chalons, and Reims. The journey was one long and fatig-uing: ovation. But she was indemnified, her historians tell us, by hearing on all sides, " from rustics in their Sun- day vests, from old cures, and from young women, ' Qu'elle est jolie, notre dauphine ! ' " The first greeting of the royal family of France occurred at the bridge of Berne, in the forest of Compiegne. Marie Antoinette had to step down from her carriage, the Counts de Saulx, Tavannes, and De Tesse conducting her by the hand to the King, who raised her from her knees, and, embracing her with royal and paternal kindness, presented her to the Dauphin, who received his future after the same fashion. The next day the marriage ceremony was performed at Versailles. The King and the Dauphin had left for the chateau after the supper at two in the morning : Marie Antoinette followed, " coiffee et habillee en tresgrand ne- glige," having to complete her toilet at Versailles. At the nuptials, the Archbishop of Reims, who presided, blessed thirteen gold pieces, as well as the ring, and presented them to the Dauphin. When night came, he had fur- ther to bless the nuptial bed ; the King himself " donnait la chemise au Dauphin, la Duchesse de Chartres a. la Dauphine." QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. GO Strange omens attended iipon this rojal solemnity. A heavy storm broke over Versailles, accompanied by loud thunder and vivid lightning. Superstitious people can now see a warning in the fact. The very chateau, it is said, trembled. A more serious catastrophe also came to cast a gloom over the marriage festivities. The day that these were to terminate, on the thirtieth of May, Ruggieri had the management of a display of fireworks on the place of Lords XV. By some strange mischance the crowd Avas seized with a panic, and the most fearful results ensued. Huxidreds of persons were more or less injured, and no less than one hundred and thirty-two were killed. The career of the Dauphine was, notwithstandmg these evil omens, smiling at the onset. The mari'iage of the Comte de Provence and the Comte d'Artois with two daughters of the King of Sardinia had brought two other strange young ladies to the palace ; and a close intimacy soon attached the three to one another. They participated in each other's pleasures, wallvs, rides, and even rejiasts, when these were not public. They even got up amateur theatrical performances, forljidden by Louis XV., at Ver- sailles, and had the Dauphin for an audience. Foremost in the Dauphine's aftections stood Madame de Lamballe, for whom she entertained a lasting friendship. Although only twenty years of age, Madame de Lamballe had known misfortunes, for she had lost her husband, the Prince de Laml^alle ; and yet was she of such engagmg, agreeable manners that she won the regards of all, and even a marriage between Louis XV. and the princess was once talked of; and hence the fears aroused by her mere presence in the bosom of the du Barry were of themselves a bond of amity l^etween Marie Antoinette and Marie Therese Lamballe. Three years had elapsed since Marie Antoinette had been in France, when a pul^lic entry into the good city of Paris was decided upon. This took place on the eighth 70 THE COURT OF FRANCE. of June, 1773, and the young princess was naturally de- lighted beyond conception with the reception given to her youth and beauty. She walked forth amidst the crowd in the gardens of the Tuileries, and received personally the homage of all. Old courtiers did their best to encourage her. The aged Due de Brissac, pointing to the sea of people from the windows of the Tuileries, said, " Madame, you have there, before your eyes, two hundred thousand lovers ! " One da}', in the year 1774, the King, being in a very unusually kind mood, said to the Queen, " You love flow- ers ? Well, I have a ))ouquet to give you : it is le Petit Trianon." No present could have been more agreeable to the Queen, — a queen without busmess, without children, without a husband. She could work there, amuse herself, improve, create, make a little Vienna. Above all, she resolved that nature should be studied in laying out the grounds, and not art, as had hitherto been the case in most French gardens ; and if we are to believe her biogra- phers, she was indeljted to an Englishman, to Sir Thomas Wathely, for these ideas, which were at that time unknown in France, where all that was not formal was designated as Chinese. On the fifteenth of August, 1785, Prince Louis de Eohan, grand-aumonier de France, was arrested at Versailles by order of the King. The unfortunate Marie Antoinette had long before this been the victim of an infinity of cakmi- nious reports. Songs and pamphlets, liljels and paragraphs, had vied with one another in misrepresenting the character of the Queen. Among the most notorious of these productions were the "Portfeuille d'un Talon Eouge;" the "Memoires de Tilly;" those of the Baron de Besenval, and those of the fixtuous and presumptuous Due de Lauzun. The latter is the most contemptible of all her enemies, for had he really enjoyed the favors of Marie Antoinette to the extent to which he QUEEN MAEIE ANTOINETTE. 71 pretends, his conduct in piibli^liing the act becomes only the more reprehensible. Even the "Foreign Eeminiscences" of Lord Holland contain a scandalous report in connection with a certain M. de Fersen, upon the authority, it is said, of M. de Talleyrand. Nay, there was actually published a " Liste Civile : Uste de toutes les personnes avec lesquelles la reine a eu des relations de debauches ! " In this pre- cious list we find the names of several Englishmen, the Duke of Dorset and Lords Seymour and Strathaven. But as the noble-minded Prince de Ligne has summed up in his " Melanges Litteraires," " the pretended gallantry of the Queen was never more than a deep feeling of friendship for one or two persons, and a ' coquetterie de femme, de reine ' who wishes to please every one." " Marie An- toinette," say her biographers, the Messieurs de Goncourt, " needs no excuses ; calumny against her was not detrac- tion ; Marie Antoinette remained pure." The disgraceful and fatal affair known as "I'affiiire du collier," brought, however, all these libels and calumnies floating about from mouth to mouth, and from hand to hand, amongst all classes, from the highest to the lowest, to an acme. The real grounds of the affair, and of the trial that it led to, are very simple; either the Queen was innocent, or she sold herself for a jewel ! And to whom ? To the man in France whom she disliked most! And who were the witnesses ? Two of the greatest vagabonds, ad- venturers, and most unprincipled persons in the country ! The jeweller Boehmer had sold to the Queen a pair of ear pendants for three hundred and sixty thousand francs, as also to the King for the Queen a complete set of rubies and white diamonds, as also a pair of bracelets, which cost eight hundred thousand francs. The Queen then declared herself satisfied to Boehmer, and said she would have no more, notwithstanding which Boehmer busied himself with collectino- the most beautiful diamonds that could be found O in order to make a necklace which he destined for the 72 THE COURT OF FRANCE. Queen. The necklace comjjleted, he got it sho^vla to the King, who made the offer to present it to the Qneen, but the Queen refused to accept it. The offer was renewed a year afterwards, and met with a similar refusal. Then Boehmer went to the Queen himself, and throwing himself at her feet, declared that unless she took the bracelet he was a rumed man, and would dro-vvn himself Marie An- toinette, aware, however, of how much had been said con- cerning her extravagance, persisted in her refusal: she told the jeweller that she had warned him she would have no more jewels, and since he had disregarded her warnings he had better break up the necklace, and sell the diamonds one by one, rather than drown himself The astonishment of the Queen may then be well unagined when, on the third of August, 1785, Boehmer presented his bill for the diamond necklace, purported to have been bought by the Carduial de Eohan for the Queen, — the agreement to that effect being signed by Marie Antoinette herself! Cardinal de Rohan, it is to be remarked, had always been the inveterate enemy of Marie Antoinette. He had exposed her to the ridicule of the Du Barrys ; he had calumniated her with her mother, and he had shamefully scandalized her at the court of France. " On the fifteenth of August, day of the Assumption, at twelve, the court was assembled in the gallery. Cardinal de Rohan, in lawn sleeves and cloak, was expecting their majesties to pass, on their way to mass, when he was called to the King's study, where he found the Queen. " ' Who gave you the orders, sir,' said the King to him, ' to purchase a necklace for the Queen of France ? ' " ' Ah ! sire,' exclaimed the Cardinal, ' I see too late that I have been deceived ! ' " The King continued, ' What have you done with the necklace ? ' " ' I thought that it had been given to the Queen.' " ' Who intrusted you with this commission ? ' QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 73 "'A lady called Madame la Comtesse de la Motte -Valois, who presented to me a letter from the Queen, and I thought that I was paying my court to majesty in carry- ing out her orders.' " ' I, sir ! ' interrupted the Queen, who was agitating her fan — ' I ! who, since my arrival at the court, have never addressed a word to you ! Whom, I pray, will you per- suade that I gave charge of my attire to a bishop, to a grand-almoner of France ? ' " ' I see quite well,' replied the Cardmal, ' that I have been cruelly deceived. I will pay for the necklace. The desire that I had to please fascinated my eyes. I have nothmg to hide, and I am grieved at what has occm-red.' "And so saymg, the Cardinal drew from a pocketrbook an agreement signed ' Marie Antoinette de France.' The King took it. " ' This is neither the writing nor the signature of the Queen; how could a prince of the House of Kohan and a grand-almoner of France fancy that the Queen signed Marie Antoinette de France? Everybody knows that queens only sign their baptismal names.' The King, presenting then a copy of his letter to Boehmer to the Cardinal, said, ' Did you write such a letter as this ? ' " ' I do not remember having done so.' "'And if the original was shown to you, signed by yourself ? ' " ' If the letter is signed by me, it is a true letter.' "'Explain to me, then, this enigma,' continued the King; * I do not wish to prove you guilty, I wish to justify you.' " The Cardinal turned pale, and supported himself by a table. ' Sire, I am too much confused to reply to your majesty in a manner' " ' Well, recover yourself. Monsieur le Cardinal,' said the King, ' and go into my study, so that the presence of the Queen or of myself shall not interfere with the quiet that 10 74 THE COURT OF FRANCE. is necessary to you. You will find there paper, pens, and ink ; put your statement in writing.' The Cardmal obeyed. In less than a quarter of an hour he returned, and pre- sented a paper to the King. The Kmg took it, saying, at the same time, ' I warn you that you are about to be ar- rested.' " ' Ah ! sire,' exclaimed the Cardinal, ' I shall always obey your majesty's orders, but may I be spared the grief of being arrested in my pontifical robes, and in the presence of the whole court ! ' " ' It must be so ! ' " And so saying, the King left the Cardinal abruptly, not to hear any more." Cardinal de Rohan was, accordingly, arrested, and led to the Bastile ; and on the fifth of September, 1785, his trial was removed from the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical au- thorities to that of the Grand Chambers, by the King's letters. It is needless to enter here mto the details of this scandalous affair, which has afforded matter upon which to exercise the ingenuity and far-sightedness of romancers as well as historians, of scandal-mongers as well as of chroni- clers. Suffice it that the results of the trial established in the eyes of all persons not influenced by the passions of the day the guilt of Madame de la Motte, the complicity to a certain extent of the Cardinal, and the innocence of the Queen. The jury, however, by a majority of twenty- six against twenty-three, while it condemned Madame de la Motte to castigation, branding, and j^erpetual imjirison- ment, acquitted the Cardinal, as the dupe of a woman, with whom his relations only added to the deeply scan- dalous hue of the whole affair. Two years before the Revolution the unpopularity of M. de Calonue falling upon the Queen, attained such a point of exasperation that her portrait, surrovmded by her chil- dren, was not exposed at the exhibition for fear of ovitr rage. Domestic and public afflictions had at that time QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 75 wrouo-ht a Avondrous cliauo-e in the character of Marie An- toinctte. She had lost a beloved daughter — Beatrix de France — and the Dauphm himself, sickly and rickety, was in a condition that gave httle hopes of his livmg to enjoy a throne. Worldly pleasures had no longer any charms for the Queen, and she only sought for the solitudes and tran- quillity of Trianon. Her last-born child — the Duke of Normandy — had come into the world without a single acclamation, and had been cradled in calumny. Under such moral and political reverses, Marie Antoinette called the Abbe de Vermond to her comisels. The Abbe was one of those men who wished to rule over all. He dis- missed M. de Calonne and nominated M. de Brienne to liis place. His object and that of his satellites was to save the kingdom by the Church ! This was precisely the means to hasten a catastrophe in the then temper of France, goaded on by the encyclopedists. Such a system, indeed, only begat new enemies to the Queen, who was even denounced by parliament itself to Louis XVI. The Queen was obliged to give way, and M. Necker was restored to the ministry. With the return of M. Necker to power we may date the commencement of the Revolution. The anger of the populace, the hatred of France, the interests of Europe, and more especially of England, which, according even to her biographers, " elle n'avait cesse d'avilir par ses agens," were all united against the mistaken policy of Marie Antoi- nette, rendered more disastrous by the King's incapacity, by family dissensions and hostilities, and by the intrigues of favorites. When the Bastile fell before the fury of the pop- ulace, the first cries of " death " were given to the Polig- nacs. The Queen was obliged to part with her friends, for whom no sacrifices of money or titles had been too great. But still the Eevolution feared Marie Antoinette. From the weakness and incapacity of Louis XVI. it had nothing to apprehend ; but it saw an enemy difficult to 76 THE COURT OF FRANCE. conquer in tlie intelligence and firmness — the heacl and heart — of the Queen. Hence was the whole ire of the revolutionary press concentrated against her person. The King was spoken of as honest and virtuous, but weak ! l)ut calumnies and insults were heaped on the head of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette. At length it was intunated that "la grand dame devait s'en aller, si elle ne pr^ferait pis," and this fixiling, and the Queen remaining steadfast to her King and family, the Eevolutiou resolved to disem- barrass itself of her by tmnultuous manifestations. On the evening of the fifth of October, the Queen was in her grotto of Trianon alone with her griefs, when M. de Saint-Priest came to announce that the populace were marching against Versailles. The Queen resolved then to confront the storm, and she left Trianon: it Avas for the last time. At Versailles she found every one in a panic, — ministers dehberating, a King incapable of a decision. The somid of musketry was heard in the streets, and soon the mob appeared at the gates of the palace carrying La- fayette in triumph, and shouting for " les boyaux de la reine ! " In the midst of the anarchy and confusion that pre- vailed, there was only one man, and that was the Queen. " I know," said the daughter of Maria Theresa, " that they have come fi-om Paris to seelc my life, but I have leamt from my mother not to fear death, and I shall await it with firmness." Lafayette had answered for his army dur- ing the night, and the Queen had retired to rest, when she was awoke by the report that the mob had assaulted the palace. Miomandre de Sainte-Marie and Du Eepaire fell at the door of the Queen's apartments, whilst, after many perplexities, the latter joined the King and her children. The mob, as it assailed the palace, vociferated, " A Paris ! a Paris ! " The King yielded to the pressure, and promised to start for the capital at mid-day. This did not satisfy the insurgents; they insisted upon the Queen's QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 77 appearing upon the balcony. She presented herself before the infuriated mob with her children. " No children ! " they shouted out. They wanted the Queen, not the mother. Marie Antoinette dismissed the children, and crossmg her arms upon her breast awaited their will. The mol) were taken aback with this exhibition of courage, and responded to it by shouts o? ''Bravo ! vive la reine!" The next day, the heads of the two Gardes du Corps who had perished in defending the Queen were carried on pikes m the front of the tumultuous procession which con- ducted the royal family to Paris. After a moment's appearance at the Hotel de Ville, where the unfortunate monarch could not even utter a brief sentence to humor the people without being prompted by the Queen, the royal family took up their quarters at the Tuileries, which had not been inhabited for three reigns, and was almost void of fimiiture. The ladies had to pass the first night on chairs, and the Queen and the Dauphin on mattresses. The next day Marie Antoinette excused herself to visitors for the poverty of her resources. The courage which had so long sustained the Queen gave way for a moment before the hinniliation of the monarchy. At her first reception of the diplomatic body, she sobbed audiljly. If she trembled, however, it was less for herself than for her children. She never let them go out of her sight. If she left the Tuileries on some errand of charity, the Prince and Princess accompanied her. Every day she is said to have performed some kmd act or other. Nor had she given up the interest which she had always taken in political matters. She consulted at this crisis with the ministers, and it was mauily left with her to bring the King to a decision, either to act himself, or to retire to some strong place and let others act. But the King was incapable of a decision. All she could get from him was his consent to withdraw to Samt-Cloud, and where he awaited the republic as he had the month of October, 78 THE COURT OF FRANCE. when the Genius of Eevokition asked audience of the Queen. It is now some time since we have told the story of M. de la Marck's relations with Mirabeau from the published correspondence of the former. When the fact was made known to Marie Antoinette that the great democratic ora- tor was approachable by bribery, her reply was, " We shall never be so unfortunate, I think, as to be reduced to the painful necessity of having recourse to Mirabeau." But a few days elapsed, however, before she was obliged to enter into those negotiations with the man whom she designated as " a monster," and in whose presence, at their first interview on the third of July, 1790, she betrayed such evident signs of terror as to fiU the tux'bulent dema- gogue's bosom with ^^ity and pride, tUl in his characteristic boastful manner he promised a throne to the son of the Queen of France ! — he who could no longer control the revolutionary flames he had so long helped to fan into a blaze. Still the royal family had confidence in him, and with his death, which followed the very same year that he sold himself to the Bourljons, they lost all hopes. The attempted flight of the I'oyal family to Varennes, cursorily passed over in the Memoirs before us, only served to render their position worse. After that, both King and Queen were subjected to a most harassing surveillance. Marie Antoinette, however, by a peculiarity not a little characteristic, had, on the occasion of the capture at Va- rennes, won the affections of a young commissary of the Assembly called Barnave. This noble young man aban- doned the cause he had thoughtlessly thrown himself into, and thenceforth devoted himself to that of the Queen. Unfortunately it was too late ; it was not in the power of any individual, however eloquent or influential, to stay the Revolution. At the same time that Marie Antoinette was obliged to send her friend Madame de Lamballe to Eng- land, m order to induce Pitt not to let the French mon- QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 79 archy perish, a scauclalous outrage was being perpetrated in Paris. Madame de la Motte had been summoned before the Assembly, where she had protested her innocence on the subject of the diamond necklace, whilst a member had denoimced the Queen as the actual criminal, and demanded that the trial should be gone over again ! Amidst all these difficulties and dangers, which had blanched her hair as if she had been seventy years of age, Marie Antoinette still devoted herself incessantly to business. She wrote all day long, and her foreign letters were indited by means of a cipher, the key to which was to be found in "Paul and Virginia." Her secret correspond- ence with Leopold II., with Burke, and others, has been preserved in the archives of the empire. The Queen, in her incessant efforts to comlaat the Revolution, to preserve the monarchy and the inheritance of her son, had various difficulties to encounter besides such as naturally arose from the circumstances themselves ; such were the counsels of the Kmg's sister, ever advocating emigration, and the more dio-nified exhortations of Madame Elizabeth to fight for the crown ; but after all, none were more perplexing and more fatal than the King's incapability of forming a resolution. In the mean time the twentieth of June arrived. Half the day had passed over like other days, — in waiting for what next would turn up, — when a loud noise proclaimed the advent of the people. It was another October ! The palace was invaded and sacked. The Queen, with a red cap which had been 23laced on her head to save her life, said to the women who were insulting her even to spit> ting in her face, " Did you ever see me before ? Have I ever done you an injury? You have been deceived. I am French. I was happy when you loved me." And the fu- ries hesitated before that sweet and sorrowfid voice. Even the fat Santerre said, " Take off that red cap from that child's head, (the Dauphin's ;) don't you see how hot he 80 THE COURT OF FRANCE. is ? " Poor child ! who the next day, when there was a struggle in the court-yard of the chateau, said, " Hainan, est ce qu'hier n'est pas fini ? " The clever and courageous Marie Antoinette committed an error at this epoch. General Lafayette, who never aimed at any greater change than that of constitutional monarchy, was greatly annoyed at the excesses of the twentieth of June. He declared before the Assembly that the constitution had been violated, and he demanded that the authors of such a crime should be j)uuished. He at the same time professed his allegiance to the royal flimily ; but the Queen, who had transacted with Mirabeau and intrigued with Baruave, had the imprudence to reject the overtures made by Lafayette. " It was better," she said, " to perish than to be indebted for their safety to the man who had done them the greatest mischief" Matters then began to precipitate themselves. There was no longer any restraint to insults, and threats grew more loud and vociferous. This state of things lasted for seven long months. On the ninth of August, between eleven and twelve at night, the Queen heard the alarm-bell of the Hotel de Ville. Soon a shot was heard in the courtryard of the Tuileries. " There is the first," she said ; " unfortunately it will not be the last." The crisis had arrived ; the Queen was prepared for it. She made Petion, the mayor of Paris, sign an order for the National Guard to repel force by force. She did the last thing she could do to save the King's honor, — she preserved to him the jiower of dying with the law in one hand and a sword in the other. But alas ! Louis XVI. was no hero. He was, on the contrary, among the weakest of men. In spite of the opposition of Marie Antoinette, he the very next morn- ing permitted Petion and Mandat, the commander-in-chief of the National Guard, to join the revolutionary party un- der the most flimsy pretences. The Queen left the King's room, saying "there was no longer anything to be hoped QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 81 for." Nor did glie return there till a deputation was an- nounced from tlie Directory. Rcederer came to "inform the King that there was no longer any safety for him hut with the National Assembly. It was in vain that the Queen combated against the King's weakness. He yielded without an eflbrt. All that Marie Antoinette could say in her anger was, " Vous ordonnerez avant tout, monsieiu-, que je sois clouee aux murs de ce palais ! " All the way from the Tuileries to the Feuillants the imfortmiate Queen and mother did nothing but weep. The crowd hustled her so, that both her purse and her watch were stolen. Arrived at the Assembly, the royal party were immured in a closet, secured with iron bars, in the rear of the president's chair, and called " la loge du logo- graphe." At two in the morning, after that long sitting in which Vergniaud had proclaimed the chief of the executive power to be deposed, and had called upon the people to form a National Convention, the Queen was removed to a cell in the old Convent des Feuillants. For three days were the royal family thus made to listen to the discus- sions that ensued, and to hear their lives clamored for. At length, on the thirteenth of August, they were re- moved to the Temple. The Queen had a shoe on from which her foot issued forth. " Vous ne croyiez pas," she said, smilingly, " que la reine de France manquerait de souliers." Marie Antoinette was lodged in the second story of the little tower. There were with her Madame Royale and Madame de Lamballe. The Dauphin was in a room close by with Madame de Tourzel and la Dame de Saint-Brice. Five days passed thus, when, on the eighteenth of August, two municipal officers brought the order for the sepai'ation of the royal family from their followers. It was a sad and cruel scene, that melted the heart even of Manuel, who had said to the King, " Sire, je n'aime pas les rois." But this was not all ; not only Avas the Queen deprived of the 11 82 THE COURT OF FRANCE. assistance and consolation of her faitliful friends and fol- lowers, but their place was filled by spies. The Queen and mother, for her children were now in the same room with herself, knew no liljerty save in the hours stolen from the darkness of night. Still the Queen did not wholly despair. " She still be- heved in France and in Providence." M. de Malesherbes, offering hunself as the King's defender, also awakened some hojies. But she had severe trials to encounter, and these momentary hopes were at times dashed to the ground, and changed to the deepest despair. Such was the day (Sep- tember third) when the crowd shouted for the Queen to ap- pear at the window of the Temple, and she was only pre- vented from going by the municipal Mennessier. When the King inquired wherefore this opposition to her wUl, "Well," said one of the men, " if you wish to know, it is the head of Madame de Lamballe that they wish to show you." Such were the scenes that relieved the monotony of life in the Temple. On ordinary days the Dauj)liin went each morning to the King, who tutored him in Latin and ge- ography, whilst the Queen was similarly occujtied in the education of her daughter. At two o'clock all dined to- gether, and sometimes after dinner the King and Queen would play a game of backgammon, or have a hand of cards. The rest of the day was relieved by needlework, reading, or music. At night, the King would step to the bedside of the sleeping Dauphin, after a few moments would jiress the hand of the Queen and of Madame Eliza- betli, his sister, kiss his daughter, and then retire. On the third of September there was once more a clamor in the streets. The Rei^ublic had been declared. On the twenty-ninth the Commune issued its decree to separate Louis Capet from Marie Antomette. The ex-King was removed to the great tower of the Temple. The Queen's tears and supplications obtained for her, however, permission to dine with her husband, on the condition, QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 83 however, that no word should be spoken so low as to escape the ears of the commissaries. On the twenty-sixth of October the Queen herself was removed to the great tower, and, to cumulate her aflliction, her son was taken away from her. Aboiit the middle of November the King and the Dauphin, deprived of all exercise, fell ill ; the un- fortunate Queen was not allowed to attend upon them. On the seventh of December, the King furtively in- formed the Queen that he was to be tried forthwith by the Convention. The trial was soon followed by that solemn scene, the parting. The weak but pious old mon- arch blessed the Dauphin, and made him swear that he would pardon those who had put his father to death. The blood of Maria Theresa once more broke forth at this scene, and, turning to the municipals, the Queen exclaimed, with a terrible voice, " Vous etes tons des scelerats." Three women passed that night trembling and weeping, whilst a poor child, escaping from their aims, said to the commissaries, " Let me pass. I will go and ask the people not to kill my papa the King." A few hours more, and the booming of great guns announced to Marie Antoinette that the child had no longer a father. Marie Antoinette was indebted to the Re^sublic for mourn- mg for herself and children. Greatly changed, too, was the Queen now. It was no longer the laughter-loving, playful, sarcastic Austrian Prmcess, it was the widow of a mur- dered monarch, pale and haggard, yet serene, without a hope, except it might be a sigh for her children, calmly awaiting and preparing herself for death. Hopes, for some time extinct, were for a moment revived by the numerous and oftrrepeated attempts made by friends to procure her escape from prison, but the failure of these only increased the sufferings and torments of the prisoner. The son was definitively removed from the mother, and on the second of August, 1793, Marie Antoinette was removed to the Conciergerie. 84 THE COURT OF FRANCE. The days and the months that elapsed between the sep- aration of the Queen from her children, her incarceration at the Conciergerie, and her trial, seemed very long to a woman awaiting the death that would not come. The ardor of the revolutionists, who desired nothing so much as to see " la louve autrichienne raccourcie," was damped by the difficulty of finding proofs. Marie Antoinette had had the precaution to destroy all her letters before the revolt of the tenth of August. At a conciergerie there are naturally concierges, and, happily, these were true types of their race, genuine Pipelets, rough in the husk, but humane in the kernel. Marie Antoinette's condition was much improved to what it had been at the Temple ; but, unfortunately, rash attempts to effect her evasion — more especially the mad proceedings of the Chevalier de Rougeville, "un de ces fous devouement qui ne manqueront jamais en France" — frustrated all the benefits that would otherwise have accrued to her from change of guardians. All at once Marie Antoinette was led forth to the Palais de Justice and cross-examined. But, taken thus unawares, and without the aid of counsel, she said nothing to commit either herself or others. The next day her puljlic trial was proceeded with, and she was allowed for counsel citi- zens Chauveau-Lagarde and Troucon Ducoudray. The farce (for such, if its results had not been so tragical, and its proceedings so brutally disgraceful to human nature, it could alone be termed) lasted for days, from morning to night, till even the moral and physical energies of the daughter of Maria Theresa became exhausted. In the ab- sence of any criminal proofs against the doomed Queen, accusations were concocted, more especially by one Hebert, — may his name be forever desecrated, — of so foul a na- ture, that our biographers dare not do more than allude to them. But of what avail false accusations or a simu- lated defence ? Of what avail the mdignant denials of a persecuted queen, woman, and mother ? Her fate was QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 85 sealed before the force of a trial was commenced. " C'est tout le peuple fram^'ais qui accuse Marie Antoinette ! " the President Herman declared ; and he might have added, the Republic fears her, and wills her death to get rid of their apprehensions and to stifle their consciences. Marie An- toinette was condemned to death. She received the decree without a movement, and, descendmg from the dock, her forehead uplifted, she opened the gate hereelf, and was led away to her j)rison-home. We have now come to the last act of this sad and mournful tragedy. Our authors have not contented them- selves with a compilation from the pages of Madame Cam- pan, the Pere Duchene, Montjoie, Bault, Iliie, Clery, and other well-known authorities, they have ransacked bulletins, archives, secret memoirs, and the papers of the day, m the earnest endeavor to render their account of this terrible cata.strophe more complete than any that have preceded it. Still, it is essentially the same well-known picture, a pale- faced, resigned queen, slowly driven to the scafibld in a cart, her back to the horse, her elbows held back by a cord in the hands of the executioner, her long neck, "col de grue," as P&re Duchene had it, supporting with diffi- culty a head wasted by suffering and emotion, its blanched hairs buried beneath a cap that the lowest bourgeois would have repudiated ; a priest with whom Marie Antoinette — "qui s'est confess^e a Dieu seul" — would have little or nothing to do ; a vast crowd on the tiptoe of expectation from daybreak to noon, heaping their ribald insults on a defenceless victim; one little child sending a kiss with its hand to the broken-hearted mother — it was the only time she wept on the long, long way to the scaffold — " La veuve de Louis XVI. descendit pom- mourir oii etait mort son mari. La mere de Lotus XVIL tourna un moment les yeux du cote des Tuileries, et devint plus pale qu'elle n'avoit ete jusqu'alors. Puis la reine de France monta a I'echafaud, et se precipita a la mort." 86 THE COURT OF FRANCE. The people shouted out " Vive la repuUiquc ! " when Sanson held forth the head of Marie Antoinette to their ferocious gaze, Avhilst beneath the guillotine the gendai-me Mingault was dipping his handkerchief in the blood of the martyr. Thus terminated this fearful tragedy, which has seldom been equalled in the history of the world. In the words of a historian, the death of Marie Antoinette was a calumny to France, — a dishonor to the Revolution. THE PROCESS LAMBALLE. Historic trao-edies have their lessons of mstruction to after-generations ; they tell their sad tales of soitow and anguish, which make ears tingle and hearts weej) in sym- pathy. They form graphic chapters in the history of our common humanity, however much we may reluctate to own the relationship). The mind almost refuses to believe that the dreadful scenes and tragedies of the French Revo- lution, so forcibly styled " the Reign of Terror," occurred in Imperial Paris, the gorgeous capital of France, and the most fashionable emporium of the present modern world, and within the recollection of many persons now livmg, even amono- our friends and neighbors. Marie Therese Louise Lamballe, of Savoy, Princess of Carignan, was born at Turin, September 8, 1749. She was married to the Duke of Bourbon Penthievre, by whom she was left a widow, young, beautiful, and amiable. She was early remarked for her intelligence, sweetness of tem- per, and personal beauty. In 1767, she was married to the Prince of Lamballe, son of the Duke of Bourbon-Pen- thievre. This union was not happy, and the Princess was about to seek a separation when her husband died. May 7, 1768. On the death of Marie Leszczynska and Madame Pompadour, a marriage was proposed between her and Louis XV. ; but the project was defeated by Choiseul and his adherents. When Marie Antoinette came to France, she conceived a strong attachment for the Princess, and on her accession to the throne, appointed her superintendent of the Royal Household. The Princess in return proved a 88 THE COURT OF FRANCE. devoted friend. She saw without jealousy the growing favor of the Duchess of Polignac, and silently kept aloof; but when the latter, on the breaking out of the Eevolu- tion, deserted her mistress, she returned to her post. She was at the Queen's side on the dreadful days of June 20, and August 10, 1792, and accompanied her to the Legisla- tive Assembly and afterwards to the Temple. On August 19, she was separated from her mistress and confined in the prison of La Force, where, despite the most energetic measures to save her, she fell a victim to the September massacre. When she appeared before the tribunal which passed sentence upon the prisoners, she answered with firmness and dignity. She refused to take the oath against the King, the Queen, and the monarchy, and scarcely had the verdict, " Out with her," been uttered, when she was struck do^vn with a billet by a drummer-boy, and de- spatched with a sword. A butcher-boy cut off her head ; her body was strij^ped naked and exposed to the crowd; her heart Avas torn out, still palpitating, and placed with her head upon a pike, and these bloody troj)hies were car- ried first to the Palais Royal, where the Duke of Orleans — her brother-in-law — was forced to salute them, and then to the Temple, where they Avere j^araded mider the win- dows of the unfortunate Queen and her wretched family. Not satisfied with this, the diabolical monsters went in pro- cession dragging the mangled body, with fresh insults, tri- umphantly through the streets. This illustrious female was one of the most innocent victims of the Revolution ; her name was never attacked with revolutionary or lil^eUous in- vectives ; and though her tyrants cut her off hy a horrid assassination, they never dared to asperse her character. THE AMBASSADOK'S BALL. Among the persons of distinction who composed the highest society of Paris in 1810, none were more con- spicuous than the Austrian ambassador, Prince Carl von Schwartzenberg, and his family. The Prince himself, a handsome, stately man, dignified, yet popiilar and easy in his bearing, distinguished both in the council-chamber and in the field, was a really imposing representative of his imperial master. Not less remarkable was his charm- ing princess ; a rare iutelhgence, grace, fascination, and sincere amiability all combined to fit her for her brill- iant position. The prince and princess held at their mag- nificent Hotel de Legation, Rue de Mont Blanc, a court — in all but its name and tedious ceremonials. Here French and Germans met on common ground, unfettered by the uneasiness, restraint, and smothered suspicion which dark- ened the atmosphere of St. Cloud. Here, on the contrary, there seemed to be good-will and friendliness for all — a moral sunshine in which even strangers gladly came to bask. To those who were admitted to any degree of in- timacy with the family, the source of this pervading light and warmth remained no secret. Beneath the splendors of the Hotel de Legation there flourished all the simple vir- tues of household affections. Husband and wife loved each other tenderly, as it was not the fashion for French hus- bands and wives to love in those days ; a charming family was growing up about them ; they had a circle of valued household friends. Prince Joseph von Schwartzenberg, the ambassador's elder brother, had also taken up his residence 12 90 THE COURT OF FRANCE. in Paris. The bi'otliers were deeply attached to each other ; theii" children had the same masters, and lived like brothers and sisters together ; each family shared and heightened the other's pleasures. No wonder that, amidst the false glitter of the empire, this home-happiness, — quiet, pure, and true, — should have exercised a subtle charm on those who came within its influence. Of all the festivities which had taken place in honor of the nuptials of Marie Louise, that of the Hotel de Lega- tion was to be the crown. It was not considered simply as a ball given by the ambassador ; it was the fete of Austria herself in honor of a daughter of the House of Hapsburg. Every Austrian m Paris felt himself personally compromised in the success of this entertainment, which was to be on a scale of far greater magnificence than any which had preceded it. If Austria had been forced to lay down her arms on the field of Wagram, here at least France should confess herself vanquished. The fete was to take place on the first of July, and for weeks beforehand, an army of workmen were employed in the necessary prep- arations. As the time drew near, they worked in relays, day and night. Indeed, those whose turn fell in the night were more fortunate than their brethren, for the heat by day was intense ; the paint blistered the wood-work, the stone-blocks glowed under that bui-ning sun. Scarcely a drop of rain had fallen for weeks; the foliage withered in every direction, as if under the breath of a simoon ; the turf and boughs required for decoration had to be kept fresh by artificial means. The hotel itself, it was thought, would not be large enough for the occasion, so the man- sion next door to it was hired, and the two buildings thrown into one. But the grand baU-room, a palace in itself for size and magnificence, was erected of solid wood- work in the garden. Its roof and walls, covered on the outside with waxed cloth, were decorated in the interior with tapestry, and aU the resources of upholstery and taste THE AIMBASSADOR'S BALL. 91 expended in the arrangement of mirrors, candelabra, col- ored lamps, and every kind of dazzling ornament. The roof, which was dome-shaped, was supported by wooden pillars covered with white satin damask, striped in gold and silver, and festooned with muslin, gauze, and other light fabrics, bound hy wreaths of artificial flowers. Mas- sive glass-lustres swung on gold and silver chams from the roof, and were combined in one graceful and harmonious whole with the other decorations, by means of floating draperies, flowers, and ribbons. At one end of this pavilion rose a dais, carpeted with cloth of gold, on which two throne-chairs were placed for the Emperor and his bride ; at the opposite end, was a gallery for the orchestra. There were three entrances to the baU-room beside that for the musicians at the back of the orchestra, — one behind the dais, communicating with the mansion; another into a wide long gallery, temporary like the ball-room, and decorated to match it ; this gallery ran parallel with the hotel, and had several doors communicating with it and with the gar- dens. But the principal entrance to the baU-room was a magnificent portal, from which a flight of broad steps led down mto the gardens, where every arrangement had been made to facilitate the ing-ress and egress of the crowd of guests. Over the portal shone in illuminated letters the following mscription, in German, Avhich some friend of Prince Schwartzenberg, inspired evidently by the muse who presides over mottoes for crackers and bonbons, imj^rovised for the occasion : " With gentle Beauty's charm is glorious Valor bound ! AH hail ! the golden age again on earth is found ! " So rose the light, graceful structure, as by the wand of some architectui'al Ariel ; it looked, with its gold-worked tapestries, the bridal whiteness of the diaphanous draperies, the lustre and color afforded l^y silver, gold, flowers, mir- rors, chandeliers, and costly oi'naments of every description, 92 THE COURT OF FRANCE. as if it had been transplanted out of the Thousand and One Nights. There was only one calamity to be dreaded : that long, low bank of cloud, in which the sun had set on the last of June, looked ominous enough ; what if the rain should pour down in torrents next day, as fete-givers and fete -goers know too well it seems to take a malicious pleasure in doing on such occasions ? What would become of the ball-room and all its magnificence then ? Fortu- nately, the first of July set all fear of such a provoking coidre-icmps at rest ; the sun blazed out of a sky without a cloud. Every preparation was happily complete, and with the comfortable certainty that not the smaUest detail had been overlooked Avhich would add distinction to so grand a festivity, the ambassador, his family, and friends betook themselves to the lighter cares of the toilet, not without congratrdations among the younger Austrian officers on the superior brilUaucy of their national miiform over that of their French rivals. It was still broad daylight when the Hotel de Legation was illuminated, and already in quick, and still quicker succession, the carriages of the guests rolled between the crowd which lined the streets. A grenadier detachment of the Imperial Guard had betimes occupied the posts assigned them. The Austrian nolnlity were in readiness to receive the arrivals, and every lady was presented with a beau- tiful bouquet before being conducted to the ball-room, now rapidly filUng. The rank and dignity of the guests increased with every minute ; kings and queens had al- ready been announced, and now there was a pause of expectancy. At length the word of command to the troops, then the roll of drums, the crash of military music announced the approach of the imperial state carriage. The two families of Schwartzenberg and Metternich re- ceived the Emperor and Marie Louise. After a short con- gratulatory address from the amljassador, and when the Empress had accepted a bouquet from the princely ladies, THE AMBASSADOR'S BALL. 93 her husband, taking her hand, conducted her to the ball- room. Many persons, who had a near view of Napoleon for the first time, remarked the regular beauty of his features, but all were struck with the fixed, iron character of his fixce. His deportment was stern and unbending, almost that of a man in some fit of iU-humored sullenness. Not a gleam of kindliness in the eye, — • its glance darting straight forward like that of an eagle on its prey ; not even a forced smile jjlayed upon those inflexible lips, which seemed as if they could only open to utter some terrible command. Napoleon declined the refreshments offered, and promenaded with the Empress through the reception-rooms, galleries, and ball-room in an abstracted manner, negli- gently addressing a few words here and there, and casting quick, sharp glances over the brilliant throng. They shrank almost visibly from his gaze. That stern, dark presence spread an indefinable gloom over this grand festival ; it was much like the appearance of some schoolmaster, infi- nitely more feared than loved, among a troop of children enjoying themselves at a pujipet-show. This feeling weighed upon the guests as they silently followed the imperial couple through the illuminated gar- dens. What was lacking in mirth, however, music did her best to supply, for bands, both instrumental and vocal, were stationed at different spots, who burst into choral songs and symphonies, at the approach of the Emperor. The Austrians had pre2Dared a flattermg surprise for Marie Louise. Seats placed upon a lawn invited Napoleon and herself to rest ; and here an exact model of the famihar castle of Saxonberg, brilliantly illuminated, presented itself to her eyes ; while there emerged from the shrubberies a troop of opera-dancers in the costume of Austrian peasants, who went through the national dances of her country. Then followed a pantomimic war and peace, where Mars displayed nothing more formidable than the honors of vic- tory, and Peace came attended by every image of hapjii- 94 THE COURT OF FRANCE. ness and prosperity. This was hardly over when a great flourish of trumpets announced the arrival of a courier, who, booted, spurred, and covered with dust, presented his despatches to the Emperor. A murmur of some conquest in Spain ran through the assembly, but Napoleon, who was in the secret, proclauned the corresjiondence to be from Vienna, and presented the Empress with a bond fide letter from her father, written purjjosely to grace this occasion. After a display of fireworks, the company returned to the grand ball-room, and the Emperor, having paused at the portal to spell out the meaning of the German Alexan- drines, took his place with his bride on the da'is, and the orchestra struck up. The ball was opened by the Queen of Naples with Prmce Esterhazy, and Eugene, Viceroy of Italy, with the Prmcess Schwartzenberg. While the dancing was going on, the imperial couple promenaded the room in opposite di- rections, conversed slightly with different persons, and gave an opportunity for the presentation of strangers, and those yoimger meml:)ers of French and Austrian nobility who made their cUbui into society at this grand fete. Marie Louise soon resumed her seat, but Napoleon remained at the other end of the pavilion, conversing first with one, then with another. The Princess Schwartzenberg presented her yoimg daughters to him, and received his compliments on the magnificence of the arrangements. The Princess felt while she hstened to them that all anxieties and fears with regard to the entertainment might now fliirly be laid aside ; never could ball-room present a more brilliant spec- tacle, never coidd fete promise a grander success. The hearts of both host and hostess grew light as they saw Napoleon in the best possible humor, evidently bent upon being polite after his fashion. It was now past midnight; the revelry was at its height ; the whirl of the dance had completely broken the gene of the great conqueror's pres- ence. Dukes and duchesses, princes and princesses, kings THE AMBASSADOR'S BALL. 95 and queens, were all enjoying themselves like ordinaiy mortals. There were silvery laughter, sweet low voices, and glances stiU more sweet and eloquent; plenty of whis- pering and flirtation going on under cover of the music, especially in the less thronged galleries among the younger portion of the assembly. Tiaraed ladies, and bestarred and beribboned gentlemen, verging upon fifty, but success- fully got up to seem twenty years younger, were looking forward with gentle anticipation to the supper, lying in state of gold and silver in a suite of banqueting-rooms. Some of the guests were proud of their jewels, their wit, or their grace ; some women were proud of their ovnn beauty, others of the beauty of their daughters, but not an Austrian present was there who was not proi;d of the ball ; and well they might be. Under those snowy dra- peries, the light fell fidl and brilliant on such an assembly as Paris has hardly gathered since ; jewels flashed, plumes waved, decorations glittered, to be midtiplied infinitely in countless mirrors, — the magnificent pavilion showed like one vast restless sea of splendor. Vague forebodings are rife in the minds of men, but why should they enter here ? what room here for a thought of broken faith, — a sigh for the cast-off wife at Malmaison? why should a dark fancy see in the cold, shrinking girl on the dais an image of Iphigenia at the altar ? Away with all ill-timed fancies ! The orchestra strikes up a waltz ; gayer, louder is the music; quicker, and stUl more quick the measure of the dance. There is a slight stir at that end of the ball-room where Napoleon is standing : the merest trifle, — the flame from one of the lamps has laid hold of a gauze festoon. The light, harmless-looking blaze has vanished instantly ; a few flakes fell, which Count Bentheun extinguishes with his hat. It is quite over now — no, not quite ; that is fire creeping there along that drapery overhead. Quick as thought. Count Damanion, one of the Emperor's chamber- 96 THE COURT OF FRANCE. lains, climbs a pillar, tears it down, and cruslies out the flame in a moment. But look there — higher than any one can reach, what are those fiery tongues darting out from the fluted muslin straight over the orchestra ? The music was hushed at once ; the band huri-ying to escape by the door leading into the gardens, at the laack of the orchestra, gave free passage to the night air. A rising wind blew very freshly in, and fanned the flames into in- stant fury. Wave after wave of fire surged over the whole roof; burning fragments were falling everywhere on the light draperies below and the ladies' dresses. The Emperor had at once made his way to the da'is ; some of his air tendants, bewildered by the sudden alarm, suspected treach- ery, and pressed closely around him, their swords drawn in their hands. He himself was perfectly calm and composed ; attended by the ambassador, with the Empress on his arm, he left the pavilion with no more haste than he had en- tered it, exhorting the crowd, as he passed along, to keep order. On the first alarm. Prince Schwartzenberg had desjjatched an adjutant to order the imperial carriage to a private gate into the gardens near at hand ; but Napoleon, when this was nearly reached, turned suddenly round, and refused in the most perem23tory manner to leave by any but the principal entrance. His decision was no doubt formed under the idea that if this accident were connected Avith a design upon his hfe, the narrowness and seclusion of the by- street into which the other gateway ojiened would favor the plans of conspirators. The carriage had to be ordered back, and thus a cruel delay ai'ose for Prince Schwartzenberg, waiting with death in his heart beside Napoleon, Avho remained silent and unmoved, the Empress trembling on his arm, the din of that dreadfid tumult in their ears, the glare of the conflagration increasing every moment. Not more than one minute had passed between the first alarm and the Emperor's departure, yet the flames had spread with such frightful rapidity that it was already THE AMBASSADOR'S BALL. 97 impossible to save the ball-room. Tolerable composure had been hitherto maintained, but the restraint of Napoleon's presence withdrawn, every consideration gave way, and in agony and violence the tumultuous multitude pressed to- wards the doors. One of the German guests thus describes the scene. " I had escaped," he says, " from the oppression and heat of the Ijall-room into the galler}^, which was far less crowd- ed. On a sudden, wild shrieks and tumult rose. Rushing back to the pavilion, I saw the roof one mass of quivering flames, leaping and spreading in every direction. There was no time, however, to lo^k on ; a surging crowd drove me back with them into the hotel. I disengaged myself from them, and regained the scene of the accident through the gardens. The immense pavilion was now in a uni- versal blaze ; the flames actually seemed to pursue the stream of fugitives. Heavy lustres were fallmg ; planks, boards, and beams dashed burning together. The wood- work, — exposed as it had been to the sun, — the paiat, and di'aperies, were burning like fireworks, and all the water poured on from the fire-engines seemed to have no effect whatever upon the fury of the flames. While I stood looking on for a few seconds, they darted high above the roof of the gallery ; heavy beams were falling close behind me, and I was obliged to escape while there was yet time into the gardens. Never can I forget the spectacle there presented, that dreadful confusion of personal danger, fear, and agony. Some were rushing about, their light dresses on fire ; others had been thrown down and trampled under foot. Husbands were seeking their wives, mothers crying frantically for their daughters ; groans of suffering, shrieks of horror, the cries of those who threw themselves with passionate joy into each other's arms, the wail of agony, the heart-rending appeals for help — all mingled in a horri- ble diapason." Many persons were severely injured by the 13 98 THE COURT OF FRANCE. flight of steps from the principal entrance giving way sud- denly. The Queens of Naples and Westphaha were both thrown dowai, and narrowly escaped being tramped to death. The Eussian ambassador, Prince Kurakin, was res- cued with great difficiUty by his friends ; other hands, less friendly, cut all the diamond buttons off his coat. Every distinction of rank was suddenly levelled in that assembly; stars, ribbons, nay, majesty itself, were jostled by servants, soldiers, and workmen ; the firemen, half-intoxicated, pushed their way through the crowd ; royal ladies were elbowed by musicians and opera-dancers ; and as a backgromid to this scene of confusion, rose higher, fiercer, more general every moment, the terrible conflagration, paling and mock- ing the illuminations of the gardens. The hotel itself had now caught fire ; the alarm had spread everywhere ; and the streets were thronged with people crying out that half Paris would be burned down. The saddest part of the story remains still to be told. When the fire broke out. Prince Joseph von Schwartzen- berg was standmg m conversation with the Empress. His first care was for his wife, the Princess Pauline, whom he had left only a few minutes before in another part of the room. He searched the ball-room for her m vain, and was assured hj several persons that she was already in the gardens ; there many people declared they had seen her carried, fainting, indeed, but otherwise uninjured, into the hotel. Prince Joseph eagerly repaired thither, but only to find a lady, a perfect stranger to him, who remarkably resembled his princess. Hurrying back in an agony, his daughter, frightfully Ijurnt, was l^rought to him ; the prin- cess had gained the gardens in safety, but returned for her child; they were escaping together, when a mass of blazing wood-work fell, and separated them. This was all the poor girl had to tell. At this moment, the torturing pre- sentiment which had laid hold of the unhappy husband passed through every degree, and certainty flashed upon THE AMBASSADOR'S BALL. 99 his mind with a lioht more fearful than that of the con- flagration. As he approached the paviHon, his eye fell upon an ominous sight, — the Princess von Leyen, her rich dress hanging in fragments, the diadem she had worn burnt deeply into her forehead. She had only been res- cued from the flames to linger a few days in suffering ; and, alas ! those who had brought her out told that they had seen a figure in the midst of the fire whom it was impossible to save. On hearing these words. Prince Joseph broke away from his friends, and would have rushed uj) the burning steps, when floor and ceiling crashed into one ruin, volumes of raging fire and smoke poured forth, and — all was over. So swift had been the destroyer in its work, that hardly a quarter of an hour had elapsed between the accident, seemingly so shght, to the gauze festoon, and this final act of the tragedy. For one minute, this awfid spectacle sus- pended the restless agony of the crowd, and while they stood stupefied before it, the Emperor, in his well-known gray coat, suddenly reappeared among them. Under liis orders, the strangers present withdrew without confusion ; every entrance to the grounds was guarded by soldiers ; the important contents of the archive-room, on which the fire had seized, were conveyed into a ])\ace of safety. Na- poleon himself directed the efforts made for extinguishing the fire, and the search for the missing Prmcess Paidine von Schwartzenberg. Tliis was entirely unsuccessful ; not a clew could be obtained to her fate, though every house in the vicinity and those of all her friends were visited, and the smouldering ruins carefuUy searched. Prince Jo- seph hovered about, appearing now in the gardens, now in the different apartments, ready to sink from exhaustion, yet roused into activity through his restless anguish. Even Napoleon found pity for the unhappy man ; he joined his friends in trying to persuade him to withdraw, and ad- dressed a few words of encouragement and hope to him 100 THE COURT OF FRANCE. from time to time. But the presence and words of the Emperor made no impression on his stubborn despair ; he had no ear save for the death-cry in his heart, and for the reports — always the same — of the messengers sent hither and thither on their hopeless quest. Not till the fire had been well got imder did Napoleon return to St. Cloud. He left behind him a thousand soldiers of the Imperial Guard, who bivouacked there for the night, and sat down to the sumptuous banquet prepared for very different guests. As if no element of horror were to be wanting, toward the morning a fearful thunder-storm broke over the smoking ruins. The rain now fell in torrents, and served to extinguish the fire completely. Where the sun had set on that palace ball- room, he now rose over a hideous heap of ruins, charred beams, shattered masonry, broken furniture, mirrors, and porcelain ; every chance hol- low was a pool of stagnant water. Fragments of lustres, swords, bracelets, and other ornaments lay fused together in masses. Nor was this all ; under a pile of half-burned wood-work, a corpse was discovered, blackened and shriv- elled almost out of human form. It could only be identi- fied as that of the missing princess by a jewelled necklace, on which the names of her eight children were engraved ; a ninth, yet unborn, perished with the ill-fated wife and mother. At this saddest of all sights, every voice was hushed ; tears stood in the eyes of all, even in those of the soldiers ; and at the moment, the last thunders of the storm, two heavy claps, rolled solemnly overhead. Dismal days succeeded this catastrophe. A universal gloom overspread Paris. There were dark whispers of con- spiracy, incendiarism, — reports that the enemies of Napo- leon had resolved by one bold stroke to rid themselves of the obnoxious ruler, his family, and his devoted fiiends. The obsequies of the Princess Pauline von Schwartzenberg were followed by those of the Princess von Leyen, and of several ladies of high rank, who died in consequence of THE AMBASSADOR'S BALL. 101 injuries received. More than twenty persons lost their hves; the number of those more or less hurt was upwards of sixty. The deep and unwholesome impression produced on the public mind was unmistakable, an impression which resisted every effort made in high quarters to suppress and divert it. To the bulk of the peojale, Napoleon's divorce and subsequent marriage had been extremely dis- tasteful ; and this, not only because Josephine was imi- versally beloved, but that a superstitious behef had arisen — shared in some degree by her husband himself — that her presence was the good genius of his fortunes. Already there was a vague but popular prediction extant, that the dowry of an Austrian archduchess would bring bitter mis- fortunes to France and its chief; and now the memory of the terrible disaster attendant on the nuptials of Marie Antoinette, aunt to the Empress, with the Dauphin, was revived, and the present calamity considered a fresh proof that fate had a fearful warning in store for every alliance of France with the House of Haj^sburg. When, within a few years, the divorcer of Josephine was discrowned and forsaken, many prophets, wise aftei" the event, beheld in this fatal festival an omen of the downfall of the imperial fortunes. jlislil: THE EMPEROR CHARLEMAGNE. A LONG period intervenes in the annals of the Court of France between the Court of France under Charlemagne and that of Louis Napoleon. We present the portraits and aspects of the two in contrast with the long past and the present of that gorgeous and splendid court. Look back over the wide historic plains and mountains of more than a thousand years, and Ijehold the name and form and charac- ter of Charlemagne, the monarch emperor, towering up in colossal grandeur, high aljove all his compeers, like the pyramid of the Egyptian Cyclops. We have thought to give his lace and form an artistic resurrection, to gratify our readers, in looking upon an ancient man and monarch, who wielded mighty armies and swayed the sceptre of kingdoms, and who created for himself a historic fame, as lasting as the annals of time. In addition to this, there is a mde personal and family interest in the historic renown of Charlemagne, whose lineal descendants have acted a conspicuous part in the current of events as the broad stream of time has flowed down from the days of this great ancestor to the present time. His blood still flows in living veins, in manj^ human forms at the present day, in our cities and over our land, well known for their tal- ents, character, patriotic and Christian virtues, and the genial influence they have exerted upon the age in which they live. If he was among the living now, he would he the most famed of human antiquities, and only a few years older than that oldest of ancient patriarchs, Methuselah. Li looking at the personal character and position of 104 THE COURT OF FRANCE. Charlemagne, as he appears in the historic asjaect of the age in which he Hved, it is obvious to remark, that there is somethhig indescribably grand m the figure of many of the barl>aric chiefs, — Alariks, Ataulfs, Theodoriks, and Eu- riks, — who succeeded to the power of the Romans, and, in their wild, heroic way, endeavored to raise a fabric of state on the ruins of the ancient empire. But none of those figures is so imposing and majestic as that of Charle- magne, the son of Pepin, whose name, for the first and only time in history, the admrnxtion of mankind has indis- soluljly blended with the title of Great. By the peculiarity of his position in respect to ancient and modern times, — hy the extraordinary length of his reign, by the number and importance of the transactions in which he was en- gaged, by the extent and splendor of his conquests, by his signal services to the Church, and by the grandeur of his personal qualities, — he impressed himself so profoundly upon the character of his times, that he stands almost alone and apart in the annals of Europe. For nearly a thousand years before hmi, or since the days of Julius Ca?sar, no monarch had won so universal and brilliant a renown ; and for nearly a thousand years after him, or until the days of Charles V. of Germany, no monarch at- tained anything like an equal dominion. A link between the old and new, he revived the Empire of the West, with a degree of glory that it had only enjoyed in its prime ; while at the same time, the modern history of every con- tinental nation was made to begin with him. Germany claims him as one of her most illustrious sons ; France, as her noisiest king ; Italy, as her chosen emperor ; and the Church, as her most prodigal benefactor and worthy saint. We quote from Parke Godwin's "History of Gaul." All the institutions of the Middle Ages — political, literary, scien- tific, and ecclesiastical — delighted to trace their tradition- ary origins to his hand : he was considered the source of the peerage, the inspirer of chivalry, the fovmder of the THE EMPEROR CHARLEMAGNE. 105 universities, and the endower of the churches ; and the genius of romance, kindling its fantastic torches at the flame of liis deeds, lighted up a new and marvellous world about him, filled with wonderful adventm'es and heroic forms. Thus, by a douljle immortahty, the one the de- hberate award of history, and the other the prodigal gift of fiction, he claims the study of mankind. It would be interesting to trace the youth and educa- tion of this colossal individuality ; but his younger days, like the beginnings of nations and races, are veiled in darkness. Eginhard, his secretary and friend, who wrote his hfe and the annals of his age, confesses ignorance of his early years. The name of Charlemagne is mentioned but twice before he assumed the reins of government, once at the reception given by his father to Pope Stephen II., and once as a witness in the Aquitanian campaigns. By these incidents, it is rendered certam that he was early ac- customed to the duties of the palace and to the martial exercises of the Franks. At the same time, the long in- timacy of Pepin with the great prelates of the day, who were many of them men of learning, makes it probable that he acquired from them whatever culture they could impart. Nor can we doubt that his mother Bertrada, or Bertha, a woman of energetic character and strong affec- tions, watched over the development of his moral and re- ligious natm-e, exposed to so many dangers both in the army and the court. In ascending his throne, Karl found the cardinal points of his foreign and domestic policy laid down for him hy the three great men, his ancestors, whose large capacities and splendid achievements had slowly built up the power of their house. Those points were the maiatenance of that Germanic constitution of society which had rendered the advances of the Austrasians into Gaul almost a second Germanic invasion ; to anticipate, instead of awaiting, the inroads of smTounding barbarism, so as to extuiguish it on 14 106 THE COURT OF FRANCE. its own hearth ; and to cultivate and extend alhances with all peacefully disposed nations, and particularly with the great spu'itual potentate who controlled the destinies of the Church. Charlemagne's first civic act was to preside at the Council of Rouen, which renewed the canons against unworthy pi-iests; and in his first capitular he entitled him- self " King l)y the grace of God, a devout defender of the Holy Church, and ally in all things (adjutor) of the apos- tolic see." War, hoAvever, almost immediately diverted him from civic labors, showing that he was an Austrasian as well as a churchman, determined to maintain the ambitious projects of his fathers. Scarcely had the council closed, when he was compelled to summon a mall (or assembly) of warriors to consider the state of Aquitam, agitated by new troubles. This illustrious monarch, the restorer of order and obedi- ence in a state of society when only the most commanding talents and heroic steadfastness of purpose could have availed him in a struggle against anarchy and ignorance in their worst forms, was the grandson of Charles-Martel, king of the Franks, and lived 742-814, master of an em- pire which embraced all France, a part of Spain, more than half of Italy, and nearly all Gennany. To feel his greatr ness adequately it must be remembered that all the an- cient landmarks of social order had been overthrown with the colossal Roman power, and that the whole civilized world was covered with its ruins and infested with its crimes. The ancient seat of empire was divided among a score of petty tyrants ; the Saracens had overrun Spain and threatened the farther West ; the northern kingdoms were only known as the cradle of adventurous armies, whose leaders in after-years organized the feudal govern- ments of Europe ; Russia did not even exist ; and England was just emerging from the confusion of the Heptarchy. Some two centuries before, 507-511, Clovis had founded the Franliish monarchy and estabhshed himself at Paris, THE EMPEROR CHARLEMAGNE. 107 but bis power was tbat of an absolute military cbief, and he was succeeded by a line of pbantom-kiugs, wbose action is scarcely distiuguisbable from tbat of the barbarous fer- mentation proceeding around tbera. At length, Pepin-He- ristal and his son Charles-Martel, slowly paved the way for a new authority, the former by familiarizing men's minds with justice and goodness in the sovereign, and the latter by his heroic resistance of the Saracens, and the j^romise of an irresistible power in the government. The successes of Charlemagne were the natural issue of these circmn- stances under the command of his ambition and vast genius, favored by the compliance of the popes ; who were willing to encourage a Christian protectorate in the West as a counterpoise to the eastern empire of Irene, and the dreaded power of Haroun-al-Raschid. A catalogue of the principal events and dates is all that we can give in the space to which we are Umited. In 768 Charles suc- ceeded to the government conjointly with his brother Carloman ; and on the death of the latter in 771, be- came sole master of France by wisely refusing to divide the authority with his nephews. In 770 he subdued the revolt of Aquitain. In 772 he max'ched against the still idolatrous Saxons, and commenced a conflict which he maintained for upward of thirty years. In 773, he crossed the Alps, and was shortly crowned King of Lonibardy, and acknowledged suzerain of Italy by the Pope, with the right of confinning the papal elections. In 778 he carried his arms into Sj^ain, and pursued his victorious career as far as the Ebro, but was surprised on his return in the pass of Roncesvalles, where many of his knights perished, and among the rest Orlando or Roland, his nephew, the hero of Ariosto. In 780 Louis-le-Debonnaire, his yoimgest son, was crowned by the pope King of Aquitain, and Pepin, his second son. King of Lombardy, both at Rome. Be- tween 780 and 782 he visited a terrible retribution upon the Saxons, and compelled their chief to accept Christian 108 THE COURT OF FRANCE. baptism. Toward 790 we find him establishing seminaries of learning, and doing all in his power to elevate the character of the clergy, the most of whom had hitherto known httle but the Lord's prayer ; besides engaging in projects for the acceleration of commerce, the general im- provement of the people, and the promotion of science. Before the end of the century he had mvaded Pannonia, and extended his dominions in this direction to the moun- tains of Bohemia and the Raab. In 800 he was crowned at Rome emperor of the West; and in 803 was negotiating a union with Irene in order to consolidate the eastern and western empires, Avhen the empress was dethroned and ex- iled by Nicephorus. From this period to his death, which took place at Aix-la-Chapelle, in the seventy-first year of his age, and the forty-seventh of his reign, he was en- gaged in fortifying the coasts of France against the North- men, and various matters relating to the security and the prosperity of the empire, including the settlement of the succession. In person and manners Charlemagne was the perfection of simplicity, modesty, frugality, and in a word, of true greatness ; he had the reputation of a good lather, a tender husband, and a generous friend. He was indefatigable in all the duties of government, and whether in the camp or the court, had fixed hours for study, in which he took care to engage his courtiers by forming them mto an academy. " For shame ! " he exclaimed, to one who came before hun attired more elegantly than the occasion demanded, " dress yourself like a man ; and if you would be distinguished, let it be by your merits, not by your gamients." His nearest friend and companion was the illustrious Alcuui, and his fame was so widely spread that the only man, perhaps, of kindred genius in that age, the great caliph, Haroun-al-Raschid, coiirted his good-will, and comphmented him by an embassage bearing presents. Before his death he confirmed the succession in the per- son of liis son Louis, by an august ceremony. Placing the THE EMPEROR CHARLEMAGNE. 109 imperial crown upon the altar, he ordered Louis to take it with his own hands, that he might vmderstaud he wore it in his o^wn right, under no authority but that of God. Perhaps we cannot conclude better by way of further illus- trating the character of Charlemagne than with his words of advice to this prince : " Love your people as yom- chil- dren," said he ; " choose your magistrates and governors from those whose belief in God wiU preserve them from corruption ; and see that your own life be blameless." Charlemagne was born in the palace of the Frankish kings in Aix-la-Chapelle in 742, and died there in 814. He was entombed in the mausoleum, Chapelle, which he had erected for the jjurpose as his burial-place. He caused it to be erected in the form of the Church of the Holy Se- pulchre at Jerusalem. It was consecrated by Pope Leo HI. with great splendor. Three hundred and sixty-three archbishops and bishops were present. The tomb in which once reposed the mortal remains of this monarch, is stQl to be seen, covered with a large slab of marjjle, under the centre of the dome, which we visited a few summers ago. After his death his body was placed in the mausoleum, on his throne, as if alive, clothed m imperial robes, holding the sceptre in his hand, with the crown upon his head and his sword by his side, while the pilgrim's pouch which he wore when living was attached to his girdle. One hundred and eighty-three years after his death, the tomb was opened, and all these imperial paraphernaUa were found upon the monarch well preserved. The marble chair-throne is still to be seen, but the cro-\yu and robes may be seen at Vienna. The skull of Charlemagne is still preserved in a silver case. The rest of the bones were discovered carefully preserved in a chest, and examined in 1847. The foUowing notice appeared in a foreign paper, under the head of " The Bones of Charlemagne : " — " An inspection of the bones of Charlemagne took place at Aix-la-Chapelle the other day. The remains were found 110 THE COURT OF FRANCE. in excellent preservation. Careful photographs were taken of the wrappers m which the remains of Charlemagne had rested for so many centuries ; they were of a beautiful silken tissue. The larger ■ wrapper, rich in color and design, was recognized as one of those draj)s de lit which were fre- quently mentioned by the Provencal troubadom's, as well as by the contemporary German JVIinnesingers, as Pallia tram- marina, P. Saracenica. It is, no doubt, a product of in- dustry of the Sicilian Saracens from the twelfth century. The second smaller wi'ai)per, of a beautifully preserved purple color, has been traced to Byzantine industry ; the Greek inscriptions woven into the silk texture make it probable that the stuff was manufactured in the iin23erial gynniasium at Byzantium, in the tenth century." It is rare that the posterity of such a man can be ac- curately traced down through successive generations for more than a thousand years. In a volume now lying be- fore us that lineage is traced dowTi in a direct hne from Charlemagne to names and families which have long been and are now ornaments to the community in which they live and act. The first of his descendants who acted a conspicuous part on this side the water, was President Chauncy, second president of Harvard College. From him were descended aU the Chaunceys in this country, of whom many were eminent; of this line was Commodore Chauncey of the United States Navy. Charles and Elihu Chauncey, of Philadelphia, WiUiam Chauncey, Esq., of New York, and others of that name are in the same line. So also the Goodrich family. Samuel G. Goodrich, or Peter Parley, Pro- fessor Chauncey A. Goodrich, late of Yale College, were the thirty-fourth lineal descendants from Charlemagne, renowned ancestor, whose blood has flowed down through so many generations. Many other names and families in this coun- try hold a similar relationshij) to this. _.ijl ~1j' ^'1 ¥ C r O [FB D A „ THE COURT OF ENGLAND. A LONG line of Kings and Queens have, in royal succes- sion, occupied the throne and worn the crown of England. These Royal Sovereigns and their successive governments and deeds fill many chapters and volumes in the historic annals of that country. Their name and fame and the achievements of their several reigns have been duly re- corded and are widely known. In presenting the portraits and historic sketches of various personages of this court, belonging to the past or the present in English annals, Her Majesty, who now fills the throne with so much wis- dom, dignity, and satisfaction to all the millions of her realm, obviously claims the first place. HER MAJESTY, QUEEN VICTORIA. When George HI., King of England, died, his eldest son, who had received his father's name, ascended the throne with the title of George IV. He had one daughter, an only child, Charlotte, who was married to Leopold, the present King of the Belgians. She, as the heir of George IV., would, upon his death, have worn the regal crown, but in less than a year from the time of her marriage, she and her infant child were consigned to the grave together. All England was clothed in mourning at the untimely death of this beloved Princess. George IV. reigned but a few years, and died, leaving no heir. The crown, consequently, descended upon the brow of 112 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. the next son of George III., William, the frank, honest- hearted sailor, whose education had been received, and whose manners had been formed, in the society of the officers of the navy. He sat upon the throne but a few years, and also died childless. The crown would then have passed, by legitimate descent, to the next brother, Edward. But he had died several years before the decease of his brother William, leaving a little daughter, but eight months old at the tune, Alexandrina Victoria, who, as her father's heir, inherited his regal rights. The lineage of this little aspirant to the most exalted political station in the world is traceable in a direct Ime, from the Conqueror, as follows: She was niece of the king immediately preceding, William IV., who was brother of George IV., who was son of George m., who was grand- son of George II., who was son of George I., who was cousin of Anne, who was sister-in-law of William III., who was son-in-law of James II., who was bom of Charles II., who was son of James I., who was the cousm of Elizabeth, who was the sister of Mary, who was the sister of Edward VI., who was the son of Henry VIH., who was the son of Henry VII., who was cousin of Richard HI., who was the imcle of Edward V., who was the son of Edward IV., who was the cousm of Henry VI., who was the son of Henry V., who was the son of Henry IV., who was the cousin of Richard II., who was the grandson of Edward HI., who was the son of Edward II., who was the son of Ed- ward I., who was the son of Henry HI., who was the son of John, who was the brother of Richard I., who was the son of Henry II., who was the cousin of Stephen, who was the cousin of Henry I., who was the brother of WilUam Rufus, who was the son of WiUiam the Conqueror. Edward, the Duke of Kent, was a very sincere, honest^ hearted, worthy man. For many years, his income was quite limited, far below that of multitudes of the young nobility with whom he associated ; and he found it very HER MAJESTY, QUEEN VICTORIA. US difficult to sustain the style of living befitting the rank of a prince of the Ijlood royal. Though naturally of an aus- tere disposition, and in consequence of opposing political views, Ijeing not on very friendly terms with the other members of the royal family, he was still a man of irre- proachable morals, an aflectionate husband and father, and much interested m offices of charity and ))enevolence. The mother of Victoria was Victoria Maria Louisa, daugh- ter of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg. At sixteen years of age she was married to the Prince of Leiningen, a violent, irri- table, sour man, forty-four years old, without any attractive traits, either of person or mind. This young Princess, thus sacrificed upon the altar of pohtical ambition, passed sev- eral years of unspeakable wretchedness. Her sensual and heartless husband was soon Aveary of his youthful bride, and abandoned her to the cutting griefs of disappoiutment and neglect. She was a lady of much gentleness of man- ners, sweetness of disposition, strength of principle, and had a highly cultivated mind, and was beloved by all who knew her, except by her soulless huslsand, who was, perhaps, in- capable of loving anybody. When she was about thirty years of age, her husband died, and she was released from the chains which she had worn with most exemplary meekness. About two years after the death of her husband, she was married to Edward, Duke of Kent; on the twenty- fourth of May, 1819, Victoria was born, and in just eight months from that time, and but twenty months after his marriage, the Duke of Kent died. The eyes not only of aU England, but also of aU Europe, were directed to this infant cliild, upon whose brow was soon to be placed the crown of the most powerful empire earth has ever seen. In her earliest years, unwearied exertions were made to strengthen her constitution, and to give her an active and vigorous frame. She was encouraged to ramble in the fields, to play upon the sea-shore, to engage m athletic 15 114 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. exercises in open air ; and she soon became the most prominent actor in all the feats of fun and frohc. Under this culture, the energies of her mind, as "well as her body, were I'apidly expanded, and she soon developed a character of much quickness and benevolence of feeling. Her mother was her constant companion, and under her judicious train- ing she became an artless and lovely child. An English gentleman who was familiar with her childhood and youth, says,— "When I first saw the pale and pretty daughter of the Duke of Kent, she was fatherless. Her fair, light fonii was sporthig, in all the redolence of youth and health, on the noble sands of old Ramsgate. It was a summer day, not so warm as to induce languor, but yet warm enough to render the favoring breezes from the laiighing tides, as they bx'oke gently upon the sands, agreeable and refresh- uig. Her dress was simple : a plain straw bonnet, with a white ribbon round the crown, a colored muslin frock, looking gay and cheerful, and as pretty a pair of shoes on as pretty a pair of feet as I ever remember to have seen from China to Kamtchatka. Her mother was her com- panion, and a venerable man, whose name is graven on every human heart that loves its species, and whose midy- ing fame is recorded in that eternal book where the ac- tions of men are written with the pen of Truth, walked by her parent's side, and doubtless gave those counsels, and offered that advice, which none were more able to offer than himself — for it was William Wilberforce. " Mr. Willserforce looked, on that day, all benevolence. And when did he look othenvise ? Never, but when the wrongs of humanity made his fine heart bleed, and caused the flush of honest indignation to mantle his pale forehead. His kindly eye followed, with parental interest, every foot- step of the young creature, as she advanced to, and then retreated from the coming tide, and it was evident that his mind and his heart were full of the future, whilst they HER MAJESTY, QUEEN VICTORIA. 115 were interested iu the present. ' There is, probably, the future monarch of an empire, on whose dominions the great orb of day never sets,' was a thought which was evidently depicted on his face, as he pointed to the little daring qneen, who was much amused at getting her shoes wet in a breaker, which had advanced farther and with more rapidity than she expected. The Duchess of Kent waved her hand, and Victoria, obedient to the signal, did not again risk the dangers arising from damp feet. " The scene was interesting. The old veteran in the cause of humanity and truth placed l:)etween his hands the little fingers of the blooming girl of five years of age, and something was then said, which I would have given a great deal to have heard, which caused the blue eyes of our now beloved Queen to stare most fixedly at her ven- erable instructor, while her devoted mother looked alter- nately at both, evidently interested and affected by the contrast. Thus the little party I have described advanced to the edge of the tide, and the emancipator of the negro and black popiilation of the world condescended to the trifles of watching the encroachments of each new breaker, and the tact of a Newfoundland dog, who exhibited his skill in ]jriniiini>; safe to shore some sticks which Avere thrown at great distances into the sea, that he might swim after them. " It was in this way that an hour was spent. The Duchess was earnest in her manner during a great portion of that hour, and seemed much delighted when Mr. Wil- berforce fixed the attention of her darling daughter by some sentences he pronounced in her hearing. I am quite satisfied they related to slavery. His attitude, his move- ments, his solemnity, and the fixed eye and deeply mourn- ful face of his charming young pupil convinced me of that. The Duchess and her daughter returned to their mod- est dwelhng, and Mr. Wilberforce, joined by some friend, walked quietly on the pier." 116 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. As Victoria advaueed iii years, and her healtli l^ecame more firm, she pressed more vigorously on in her intel- lectual pursuits ; but still her judicious friends were ever watchful that her mind should not be overtasked, nor her physical energies impaired, by too close confinement to the study of books. The knowledge that is printed makes but a small share of that which every hiunan mind attains. She carefully read, with her instructors, all those treatises which have been written with regard to the education of a princess. From conversation and fi-om books, she was made fiimUiar with the hves of eminent kings and queens, and perused the biographies of other persons, both male and female, who have been distinguished for the good in- fluences they have exerted in the world. It was a special object of attention with those who had charge of her edu- cation, that she shoidd become acquainted with the history of the distinguished statesmen, scholars, and divines who have been the pride and the ornament of England, and that she should be familiar with the literature of the Eng- lish language, the noisiest literature in the world. How wretchedly do they err, who, in the fashionable education of the present day, sacrifice the noblest of intellectual at- tainments, and consign all the ennobling treasures of their own mother-tongue to neglect, merely that they may be aide to utter a few commonplace phrases in a foreign tongue ! The mother of Victoria, herself an intelligent and thoughtful woman, was very careful to direct the mind of her daughter from a love of show, of dress, of frivolity; — to give her intellectual tastes, and to train her up to a solid and substantial character. Victoria became enthusi- astically fond of music and drawing, and made great pro- ficiency in both of these arts. In music she excelled, and became quite distinguished as an accomplished vocalist ; accompanied by her mother on the piano, she frequently charmed the noljle circle surrounding her, by the richness and fubiess of her well-cultivated voice. In drawing also HER MAJESTY, QUEEN VICTORIA. 117 she made great proficiency. Slie was extremely fond of painting and engraving. Her taste, refined by cultm-e, enabled her to select the noblest specunens of art ; and she became herseh' so skilful in the use of the pencil, that she could, with great precision and beauty, sketch from nature ; and her j^ortfolio was filled with attractive speci- mens, sketched by her own hand, of landscape scenery, and other jncturesque objects which had attracted her eye. This early taste for jjictures has ever been to her a source of the purest enjoyment, refining and ennobhng the mmd, as it also gratifies the senses. She was instructed in the evidences of Christianity and in the principles of the Christian religion ; and it was con- stantly impressed upon her mind, that she was to be the queen of professedly a Christian nation, and that her pri- vate conduct and public administration must be in accord- ance with the directions of Holy Writ. Victoria has often given evidence, in later years, of the influence these in- structions have retained over her mind and heart, in cir- cumstances of severe temptation. The following anecdote illustrates the devout regard she entertains for the sacred- ness of the Christian Saljbath : Soon after she ascended the throne, at a late hour on one Saturday night, a nobleman occupying an important part in the government arrived at Windsor with some state-papers. " I have brought," said he, " for your Majesty's inspection, some documents of great importance ; but, as I shall be obliged to trouble you to examine them in detail, I will not encroach on the time of your Majesty to-night, but will request your attention to-morrow morning." '' To-morrow morning ! " repeated the queen. " To-morrow is Sunday, my lord." " True, yoiu' Majesty; but business of the state will not admit of delay." "I am aware of that," replied the Queen. "As, of course, your lordship coidd not have arrived earlier at the palace to-night, I will, if those papers are of such pressmg im- portance, attend to their contents after church to-morrow 118 THE COUET OF ENGLAND. morning." On the morning, the Queen and her court went to church 5 and much to the sm-prise of the noble lord, the subject of the discourse was on the sacredness of the Christian Sabbath. "How did your lordship like the ser- mon ? " asked the Queen. " Very much indeed, your Maj- esty," replied the nobleman. " Well, then," retorted her Majesty, " I will not conceal from you, that last night I sent the clergyman the text from which he j^i'cached. I hope we shall all be improved by the sermon." Not an- other word was said about the state-papers duiing the day ; but at night, when Victoria was about to withdraw, she said, " To-morrow morning, my lord, at any hour you please, as early as seven if you like, we will look mto the papers." " I cannot think," was the reply, " of intruding ujjon your Majesty at so early an hour. Nine o'clock will be quite soon enough." " No, no, my lord ; as the papers are of importance, I wish them to be attended to very early. However, if you wish it to be nine, be it so." At nine o'clock, the next morning, the Queen was seated, ready to receive the nobleman and his papers. We have before stated that the Duke of Kent had but a limited income. He found it very difficult to maintain the style of livmg corresponding with his rank in life. He died much involved in debt, which he was totally unable to pay. Victoria revered the memory of her father, and often, during her minority, referred to these debts, and longed for the time to come when she should be able to repay those friends who had aided her father in his time of need. As soon as she ascended the throne, she sent to Earl Fitzwilliam and Lord Dundas, who had assisted her father, the full amount of the sums due, accompanied with a valuable piece of j^late, to each, as a testimonial of her gratitude. This noble decision of character, and deUcate sense of justice, must command admiration. When Victoria was fifteen years of age, there was a lad of the same age, a relative of the family, on the mother's HER MAJESTY, QUEEN VICTORIA. . HQ side, who often associated witli her, in her studies and her sports. In those early years a strong attachment grew Tip between them ; and it conld not be concealed that Victoria looked upon Prince Albert with more than ordinary aflec- tion. When she had attained her eighteenth- year, the year of her legal majority, her birthday was celebrated with the utmost splendor. The bells rang merry peals of joy ; the nobility of the empire gathered around the princess, with their congratulations, and St. James's palace was decked with splendor, such as was never seen before. Prince Albert was also there, with throbbing heart, among the first to congratulate Victoria upon the happy event. Fom' weeks had not passed away from these festivities, when her uncle, the reigning monarch, William IV., was seized with sudden illness and died, on the twentieth of June, 18.37. At five o'clock in the morning, the Arch- bishhop of Canterbury, with others of the nobility, arrived at the palace at Kensington, to communicate to Victoria the tidings of her uncle's death, and that she was Queen of England. That day she assembled her first Privy Coun- cil. Upwards of one hundred of the highest nobihty of the realm were present. It was an imposing and affecting scene. The pen and the pencil have in vain endeavored to do it justice. In the midst of the scarred veterans of war, gray-haired statesmen, judges of the Court, dignitaries of the Church, stood this youthful maiden, with her fragile and fairy fonn, pale and pensive, and yet graceful and queenly, in her childlike loveliness. And when the herald announced, " We jjubhsh and proclaim that the high and mighty Princess, Alexandriua Victoria, is the only lawfid and rightful Hege lady, and by the grace of God, Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, De- fender of the Faith," the timid and lovely maiden, over- whelmed by the scene, thrcAV her arms around her moth- er's neck, and wept with uncontrollable emotion. And when her uncle, the Duke of Sussex, her father's younger 12(J THE COURT OF ENGLAND. brother, was about to kneel at her feet to kiss her royal hand, as he took the oath of allegiance, she gracefully placed an affectionate kiss upon his cheek, and with tears streaming from her eyes, exclaimed, " Do not kneel, my uncle, for I am still Victoria, your niece." In a few days she made her first appearance, as Queen, before the Parliament of Great Britain, the most august assemblage in the world. Statesmen, nobles, ambassadors from foreign courts, thronged the chamber. Victoria en- tered, not with tall, commanding figure, but as a gentle, sylph-like, foiry child, to win all hearts to tenderness and love. She ascends the throne, and every eye is riveted upon the youthful Queen. With a clear though tremulous voice, she reads her first address to the statesmen who suiroiuid her, so distinctly as to make herself heard to the very farthest part of the House of Lords. Soon came the hour of coronation. The eyes of Eng- land and the thouo-hts of the civilized world were directed to the scene. Westminster Abbey was decked with gor- geous attractions, such as never that venerable pile had seen displayed before. The rank and beauty of all the courts of Europe, glittering in diamonds and gems of every hue, were there assembled. The maiden Queen, with royal robe and golden diadem, kneeled at the altar, and fer- vently implored the Divine guidance. And when those aisles and fretted arches resounded with the peal of the organ, as it gave utterance to the sublime anthem, " Come, Holy Ghost, our soiils inspire," there were few among the thousands who crowded the Abbey, who were not afiected even to tears. The marriage with Albert soon followed. The nation approved of the match ; and two youthful hearts, drawn together amidst the splendors of a palace by mutual love, were united in the most sacred and delightful of ties. Such espousals seldom occur within the frigid regions of a court. This union has been highly promotive of the happiness of HER MAJESTY, QUEEN VICTORIA. 121 both of the ilhistrious pair. They were universally re- spected and beloved, and dwelt together in the spirit of harmony and aftection, which is rarely experienced hy those whose fortune it is to dwell in the cold and cheerless regions of elevated rank and power. But few of the cares of government rest upon Victoria. The able counsellors who surround her guide the afFau's of state in her name. She has little to do, except to attend to the etiquette of the Court, to present herself as the conspicii- ous pageant on a gala-day, and to give her signature to those acts of parliament which are supported by those friends in whom she reposes confidence. The romance of the coronation, and of the bridal scene, has long ago passed away. The lovely maiden Queen, who arrested all eyes, and won all hearts, is now an afflicted widow, an amiable woman, a careworn mother. With matronly dignity she cherishes the children who have clustered around her. With exemplaiy fidelity, she discharges her duties as Queen, as sovereign, as mother ; and she is worthy of the respectful affection she receives from her subjects ; for there are few who have ever been seated upon a throne, who ai'e more meritorious in character than Queen Victoria. The accidents of birth have placed her where she is. Strong temptations surround her. Everything which this earth can furnish, of pomp and pageantry, is arrayed to dazzle her eye. And it is certainly greatly to her credit, that, in the midst of such scenes, she could have main- tained her integrity as she has done. Of Prince Albert, long the honored and beloved consort of the Queen, there is but one opmion. His amiable pri- vate character, and domestic traits, ministered unspeakaljly to the happiness of the Queen, and contributed to that most happy and illustrious example of domestic purity and peace which has won for the Royal Family of England the respect of the civihzed world. His exquisite tact and discretion in reference to the exciting pohtical questions 16 122 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. and solicitations by which he has been surrounded, are re- markable. Not a word or look of his ever compromised the mdependence and impartiality of the throne. The bitterest partisanship found nothing to condemn in the course of the Prince. Yet he was not an idle or in- difiereut spectator of the active life around him. The charitable, the commercial, and the social movements and interests of the nation always strongly attracted him, and ever found m him a wise and efficient patron. The great characteristic event of our era, the International Exhibition at the Crystal Palace, in 1851, was distinctly traceable to his original suggestion, as well as its final realization to his perseverance and energy of character. Happy in his family, liberal in views, and unostentatiously benevolent in his feelings, his influence has been signally favorable to morality and religion. Nine children have been added to the happy circle of the Royal Family, whose unbroken good health, admhable order, and amiable dispositions have contributed to render the Eoyal Family one of England's brightest treasm-es, and most useful and honorable traits among the nations. IS OS®¥AL CflD(E[}OWESS [p[aQR!(DE ^\[LKE[^T„ HIS KOYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCE ALBERT. Albert Francis Augustus Charles Emmanuel, Prince of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, and consort of Queen Victoria, was born August 26, 1819, and was the second son of the Duke Ernest I., who died m 1844. Pruice Albert was educated along with his elder brother. Prince Ernest, the present Duke-regnant of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, under the Con- sistorial Councillor Florschiitz, and subsequently at the Uni- versity of Bonn. His studies are described as including, beside the languages and history, the physical and natural sciences; and also music and painting, in both of which arts he attained considerable proficiency. Prince Albert was mai'ried to Qvaeen Victoria on the tenth of February, 1840, at St. James's chaj^el, having a few days before been natm-ahzed by act of parliament. By an act which re- ceived the royal assent August 4, 1840, it was provided that, in case of the demise of her Majesty before her next lineal descendant shall have attained the age of eighteen, the Prince is to be Regent until such age is reached. The Prince was not unmindful of the grave responsibilities which his position cast uj^on him, or of those which might possibly accrue. Almost immediately after his settlement in this country he read a course of English constitutional history and law with one of our highest authorities, Mr. Selwyn; and whilst he always most judiciously held himself aloof from all political parties, he did at different times show an intimate acquaintance with the general bearing of great public movements, such as could only result from a careful study of the principles of our social economy, a 124 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. clear knowledge of English institutions, and a consider- ate observance of the progress of events. In many of those public questions which are distinct from party poli- tics, and in nearly all those which bear on the improve- ment of the physical condition of the poorer classes, on the progress of the mechanical and fine arts, and in vari- ous benevolent projects, the Prince took a very active part ; and his sj^eeches on public occasions always indi- cated an intelligent appreciation of the objects sought to be accomplished. As the head of the Fine Arts Commis- sion the Prince did much toward setting in motion that effort to reach the higher purposes of art which has char- acterized the painting and sculpture of the last twelve or fourteen years; and he evinced, by his zealous patron- age of schools of design, an equal desire to aid in raising the artistic character of our manufactures. But it was as the chairman of the council of the Great Exhibition of 1851 that his activity and knowledge found its widest scojje and fidlest development; and it seemed to be admitted by all who were ultimately coimected with the origin and prog- ress of that great undertaking, that it owed very much of its high position and ultimate success to the taste, judg- ment, and tact of Prince Albert. The Prince was a field-marshal in the English army, and a colonel of the Grenadier Guards, and it was said he took much interest in the state of the anny and the condition of the soldier ; but his tastes and pursuits were for the most part entirely of a pacific character. The fine and mechanical arts did not, however, engross liis attention. His name apj^eared in the lists at the Smithfield Club, and other leading agricultural exhibitions, as a competitor, and generally as a successful competitor, for the prizes annually adjudicated for superior breeds of cattle, etc. He had indeed given a good deal of time to agricultural pursuits, and his " model farms " at Windsor are said liy practical farmers to be really entitled to their designation. HIS EOYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCE ALBERT. 125 Beside those above mentioned, the Prince held several offices under the Crown. He was elected in 1842, after a sharp contest, Chancellor of the University of Cambridge ; and he was President of the Society of Arts, Grand Master of the Free-Masons, and patron or president of various benevolent and other institutions. DEATH OF PRINCE ALBERT. Twenty-one years elapsed, after Queen Victoria gave her hand in marriage to Prince Albert, until the time of his death. It was an auspicious event, and reality has more than surpassed all prognostics, however favorable. The royal marriage has been blessed with a numerous offspring. So far as it is permitted to the public to know the domestic lives of sovereigns, the people of these islands could set up no better model of the performance of the duties of a wife and mother than their Queen ; no more complete pattern of a devoted husband and father than her Consort. These are not mere words of course. We write in an age and in a country in which the highest position would not have availed to sci'een the most elevated delinquent. They are simply the records of a truth perfectly understood and recognized by the English people. It has been the misfortune of most royal personages that their education has been below the dignity of their position. Cut oft" by their rank from iutunate association with young persons of the same age, they have often had occasion bitterly to lament that the same fortune wdiich raised them above the nobility m station had sunk them below them in knowledge and acquirements. Thanks to the ciUtivated mind and sterling good sense of the Prince Consort, no such charge will be brought against the pres- ent generation of the Royal Family of England. Possessing talents of the first order, cidtivated and refined l^y diligent and successful study, the Prince has watched over the edu- 126 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. cation of his children with an assiduity commensurate with the greatness of the trust, and destined, we duubt not, to bear fruit in the future stability of our reigning family and its firm hold on the affections of the people. Had Prince Albert done no more than this, had he limited his ambition to securing the happiness of his wife and chil- dren, this coimtry, considering who his wife and children are, would have owed him a debt which the rank he oc- cupied among us, and the material and social advantages attached to it, would have been quite adequate to repay. But there is much more which the Prince has done for us. It was a singular piece of fortune that the Queen should find m a young man of twenty years of age one whom a sudden and unlooked-for elevation could not elate, nor all the temptations of a splendid court and a luxurious capi- tal seduce ; who kept the faith he had pledged Avith sun- pie and unwavering fidelity, and in the heyday of youth ruled his passions and left no duty unperformed. But it is still more smgular that in this untried youth, the Queen should have found an adviser of the utmost sagacity, a statesman of the rarest ability and honesty of purpose. Perhaps all history cannot afford an mstance of the per- formance of high and irresponsible but strictly limited duties, Avith a dignity and singleness of intention compara- ble to that which has made illustrious the reign of Queen Victoria. Her Majesty found in her husband a wise and true counsellor, and rose far superior to the petty jealousy which might have prevented a mind of less elevated cast from availing itself of such invaluable services. The result has been a period of progress aud prosperity quite un- equalled even in what may fairly he called the happy and glorious history of England. The rancor of contending parties has never assailed the Crown, because all have felt ahke that they were treated with the most loyal impar- tiality. Any one who would thoroughly appreciate the HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCE ALBERT. 127 degree of merit which this impartiahty imphes should study the history of our colonies under their constitutional government, and observe how impossible the ablest gover- nors have found it to maintain that impartiality between rival leaders which, during the reign of the Queen, has never been forgotten for a moment. If faction almost died away in the land, if the nation became united as it never was united before, it is because every shade of opinion has had full and fair play, and the powers of government have not been perverted to oppress one side or undidy to ele- vate the other. In the Prince, notwithstandmg his German education, the country has had as true an Englishman as the most patriotic native of these islands. He has had the sagacity to see and feel that the interests of his family and his dynasty had claims upon him superior to any other, and at no period has the foreign policy been less subject to the imputation of subservience to foreign interests and relations than during the last twenty years. We have hitherto spoken of the manner in which the Prince has acquitted himself of the duties which may be said to have been cast upon him in virtue of his position as husband to the Queen. We have yet to speak of an- other duty which he may be said to have assumed of his own accord. As a foreigner of cultivated taste and clear judgment, he saw defects which insular pride probably had prevented the people from discerning in themselves. He saw that the manuflictures, vdth all their cheapness and durability, were strangely wantmg in the graces of color and form, and that the whole life of the nation, pub- lic and private, had something of a sordid and material tint. The Prince set himself to correct these evils with mdefatigable diligence. He labored to create the Great Exhibition of 1851, and has been the priacipal patron of those public establishments which are giving a new impulse to the arts of design, and are probahly destmed to regen- erate the taste of the country, and bring our powers of 128 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. decoration to a level with our astonishing fertility of crear tion. Even then there was rismg under his auspices, in a suburb of the metropolis, a building destined to receive the products of the industry of all nations, and to give, we doubt not, a fresh impulse to the creation of whatever may serve for the use and enjoyment of mankind. It is not too much to say that during the last day of his life the pubHc were stupefied by the calamity which befell the highly-gifted man, who was for so many years the consort of the sovereign. Nor will the intense feel- ings called forth by the event be confined to these islands. Wherever throughout the world the character and influence of the Prince Consort are understood, there will be regret and pity, astonishment and speculation, to the full as much as among ourselves. For her Majesty the deepest S3Tnpathy will be felt on every side. The life of the Queen and her husband for nearly twenty-two years was so calm and happy and domestic, that we had been accustomed to look uiion them as realizing that ideal of earthly haiipiness which, it is said, seldom falls to the lot of princes. Until the death of her mother no severe family loss had troubled the Queen. All her children had lived ; she had seen her eldest dauohter married to the heir of a great monarchy ; another daughter was about to form an alliance prompted by mutual affection. But in the loss of her devoted husband a dreadful blow has indeed fallen upon our sovereign. The world in general knew that in public aiFairs her Majesty consulted her husband, but it hardly appreciated how constant were the services, how luiwearied the attentions, which this position of the Prince Consort involved. For years he hardly ever stirred from the side of the Queen ; and, knowing how much the direc- tion of a large family, the management of a great court, and the administration of public affairs must tax her strength, he gave her his help with an energy, an acute- ness, a tenderness, and a solicitude of which there are few HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCE ALBERT. 129 examples. He has been cut off just when his mind was most vigorous, his experience verging on completeness, when his children are at the age when a lather's authority is more than ever necessary, and — by a singular fatality — at a moment when the country is threatened with a most terrible conflict. The Prince Consort was taken ill some twelve days be- fore his death. Symjjtoms of fever, accompanied by a gen- eral indisposition, made their appearance. For some days the complaint was not considered to be serious, but from the early part of the week the medical men in attendance and the persons about the court began to feel anxious. It became evident that, even if the disorder did not take a dangerous turn, a debilitating sickness would at least con- fine the Prince for some tune to the palace. It need not be said that no statement was made Avhich could unneces- sarily alarm her Majesty or the public. It was not till a late hour, when the fever had gained head and the patient was much weakened, that the first bulletin was issued, and even then it was said that the symptoms were not unflivorable. It is said that early m tlie progress of his illness the Prince expressed his belief that he should not recover. On the next day no material change took place in his condition, and the following morning the Queen took a drive, having at that time no suspicion of immediate dan- ger. When, however, her Majesty returned to the castle, the extremities of the patient were already cold, so sudden had been the fresh access of the disorder. The alarming bulletin of the day was then published. From that time the state of the Prince was one of the greatest danger. On the same evening it was thought probable that he would not survive the night, and the Prince of Wales, who had been telegraphed for to Camlnidge, arrived at the castle by special train about three o'clock on Saturday morning. All night the Prince continued very ill, but in the forenoon of Saturday a change for the better took place. Unhappily, 17 130 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. it was only the rally ■which so often precedes dissolution ; but it gave great hopes to the eminent physicians m at- tendance, and was communicated to the public as soon as possible. The ray of hope was foted soon to be quenched. About four o'clock in the afternoon, a relapse took place, and the Prince, who from the time of his severe seizure on Friday had been sustained by stimulants, began gradu- ally to sink. It was half-past four when the last bulletin was issued, announcing that the patient was in a critical state. From that time there was no hope. When the im- provement took place on Saturday, it was agreed by the medical men that if the patient could be carried over one more night his hfe would in all probaljility be saved. But the sudden failure of vital power which occurred in the afternoon frustrated these hopes. Congestion of the lungs, the result of complete exhaustion, set in, the Prince's breathing liecame continually shorter and feebler. Quietly, and without sufiering, he contmued slowly to smk, so slowly that the wrists were 2^1-^lseless long before the last moment had arrived, when at a few minutes before eleven he ceased to breathe, and all was over. The Queen, his Eoyal Highness the Prince of Wales, their Royal High- nesses the Princess Alice and the Prmcess Helena, .and their Serene Highnesses the Prince and Princess of Leiningen, were all present when his Royal Highness expired. He was sensible, and knew the Queen to the last. The Duke of Cambridge and the following gentlemen connected with the Court were present : General Bruce, Sir Charles Phipps, General Gray, General Bentinck, Lord Alfred Paget, Major Du Plat, General Seymour, Colonel Elphinstone, and the Dean of Windsor. An hour after and the solemn tones of the great bell of St. Paul's — a bell of evil omen — told all citizens how irrejjarable had been the loss of their be- loved Queen, how great the loss to the country. A il laj K IRi r, [P !f3 tl M C E a r W A THE PRINCE OF WALES, K. G. His Royal Highness Albert Edward Prince of Wales, Duke of Saxony, Prince of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, Duke of Cornwall and Rothsay, Earl of Chester, Carrick, and Dub- lin, Baron Renfrew, and Lord of the Isles, K. G., and Heir- Apparent to the throne of England, was born at Bucking- ham Palace on the ninth of NovemJ^er, 1841. The heir-apparent derives his titles, partly by inheritance and partly )jy creation, from the circumstance of King Ed- ward the First having, in j^olitic concession to the Welsh chieftains, created his heir " Prince of Wales," a few days after his Ijirth at Carnarvon Castle. The young prince was subsequently invested wnth the Earldom of Chester, which has since been included in the patents of creation. The Scottish titles of the Prince are derived from Robert the Third, in whose reign they were vested in the heir- apparent to the crown of Scotland forever. On the tenth of September, 1849, her Majesty granted to her son and heir, Albert Edward Prince of Wales, and to his heirs, Kmgs of Great Britain and Ireland, forever, the dignity of the Earl of Dul)lin, of the United Kingdom, in memory of her Majesty's visit to that portion of her dominions. His Royal Highness takes his seat in the House of Peers as Duke of Cornwall. The rank and position of his Royal Highness are thus explained in "Dod," an efficient authority in aU matters of precedence : — "The Prince of Wales has been at all times regarded as the first subject in the realm, the nearest to the throne, 132 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. the most dignified of the Peers of Parhament, and though not exercising any poUtical power beyond his vote as a legislator, yet regarded by all men as the most eminent personage in the state next after the sovereign ; the Prince of "Wales is the heir-apparent ; the heir-presumptive may be brother, uncle, nephew, niece, or even a more dis- tant relative of the sovereign ; but the prospect which an heir-presiunptive may possess of eventually succeeding to the throne gives him no place in the scale of precedency : the rank he holds is merely derived from consanguinity. But the station of the Prince of Wales is clearly and in- disputably that of the first and highest of her Majesty's subjects." It is obviously impossible, at the present time, to furnish anything wo^thy the name of a biography of the young Prince who occupies the Qxalted position above described. The materials which, in future days, will be at hand to enable a biographer to write a histoiy, or part history of his life, are not yet to be found. The deeds of his youth and the achievements of his manhood and maturity are yet to be enacted. At this time we can only congratulate the young Prince upon the sjilendid prospect, and the wide field for good which it is his fortune to inherit ; a field for which he has been most carefidly prepared by the wise training he has received under the unmediate care of his royal mother. If the inestimable example of good and vir- tuous actions in a parent is to have its accustomed influ- ence, and if the watchful culture of rehgion and the better qualities of our nature yield but their average good, we may look for a worthy career in that of the Prince of Wales. That he may have a long, a happy, and a peace- ful life, is the prayer of every English heart. As already stated, the education of the Prince of Wales has been conducted under the immediate care of her Maj- esty the Queen. In the languages, classics, natural philos- ophy, mathematics, jmisprudence, and other branches of THE PRINCE OF WALES, K. G. 133 study, his Eoyal Highness has been assisted by jirivate tutors selected expressly on account of their qualifications and ability to convey instruction. It is understood that the Prince will continue his education by a course of study both at Caml)ridge and Oxford. On the ninth of November, 1858, the Prince of Wales, having on that day completed his seventeenth year, was apj)ointed Colonel in the army. The " Gazette " of the fol- lowing Friday contained the subjoined annoimcement : — " The Queen, taking into her royal consideration that his Eoyal Highness Albert Edward Prince of Wales, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, and, by virtue of the statutes of the said Order, a constituent member thereof, has not as yet assumed the stall assigned to the Prince of Wales in the Royal Chapel of St. George, at Windsor, and having, as sovereign of the said Order, the mherent right of dispensing with all statutes, ordinances, and regulations in regard to installation, her Majesty has been pleased, by letters-patent under her royal sign-manual and the Great Seal of the Order, bearing date this day, to give and grant unto his Royal Highness Albert Edward Prince of Wales, full power and authority to wear and use the star, and also to wear and use the collar and all other ornaments belonging to the said most noble Order, and to sit in the stall assigned to the Prince of Wales, in our Royal Chapel of St. George, at Windsor, and to exercise all rights and privileges belonging to a Knight Companion of the said most noble Order, in as full and ample manner as if his Royal Highness had been fonnally installed, any decree, rule, or usage, to the contrary notwithstanding." Having thus fixirly entered upon the duties of manhood, his Royal Highness determined upon pursuing his studies, for a time at least, at Rome. Accordingly after a brief visit to his illustrious sister at Berlin, the Princess Fred- erick William of Prussia, he proceeded on his journey to Italy. On his way thither he performed the first public 134 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. act of lu8 life, by presenting oolors to the Hundredth, or Prince of Wales' Royal Canadian Regiment of Foot, then stationed at Shorncliffe, near Folkestone. His Royal High- ness took occasion to make the following appropriate speech to the assembled officers and men : — " Loixl Melville, Colonel de Rottenberg, and officers and soldiers of the Hundredth Regiment : It is most gratif)nng to me that, by the Queen's gracious permission, my first public act since I have had the honor of holding a com- mission in the British anny should be the presentation of colors to a regiment which is the sjiontaneous offering of the loyal and spirited Canadian people, and with which, at their desire, my name has been specially associated. The ceremonial on which we are now engaged possesses a pe- culiar significance and solemnity, because in confiding to you for the first tune this emblem of military fidelity and valor I not only recognize emphatically your enrolment into owY national force, but celebrate an act which pro- claims and strengthens the unity of the various parts of this vast empu'e under the sway of our common sovereign. Although, owing to my youth and inexperience, I can but very imperfectly give expression to the sentiments which this occasion is calculated to awaken with reference to yourselves and to the great and fiourishing province of Canada, you may rest assured that I shall ever watch the progress and achievements of your gallant corps with deep interest, and that I heartily wish you all honor and success in tlie prosecution of the noble career on which you have entered." The Prince ax'rived in the Eternal City in the latter part of January, 1859, and having spent some time in exploring ancient and modern Rome, proceeded quietly and unosten- tatiously to his studies. Before doing so, however, he paid a visit to the Pope. His appearance at the Vatican is worthy of note, inasmuch as a prince of the blood royal of England had not made a similar visit for some centu- THE PKINCE OF WALES, K. G. 135 ries. Agreeably to the expressed wish of her Majesty, the recejition was conducted with httle ceremony. His Hohness rose on the entry of the Prince, and coming forward to the door of the apartment to meet him, conducted him in the most afflible manner jjossible to a seat, and entered into conversation with him in French. Colonel Bruce .was the only other person present at the interview, which was brief, and limited to complimentary expressions and subjects of local interest, but perfectly satisfixctory to all parties. On the Prince rising to take his leave, the Pope conducted him again to the door with the same warmth of manner which he had testified on receiving him. The stay of his Royal Highness in Rome being interrupted by the out- break of the war in Italy, he travelled to Gil)raltar, and from thence to Spain and Portugal. He returned to Eng- land on June 25, 1859. In the summer of 1860 the Prince of Wales made a visit to Canada and the United States. The grand welcome which he received in Canada and by the authorities in the United States, and by aU classes in the community, has seldom if ever been surpassed to a prince or public man not actually wearing a crown in any country. The history of the Prince's movements in this country, his various ex- cursions, the reception ceremonies, the celebrations, and great gatherings in honor of the Prince, are too recent and fresh in the pul)lic mind to need particular mention m these pages. A long life as the monarch and king of England is possible and j)robable to this high-born Prince. IL (G) 3E1D) IF^lQiMClS Itt LORD PALMERSTON. Few English statesmen of modem times have filled so high a station in the government of England for so long a period, or exerted so wide and commanding an influence in the affairs of Europe, as Lord Palmerston. A modern history of Europe could scarcely he written without em- bracing much that he has said and done. He still acts a prominent part in the public affairs of Europe and the world. It is not easy to comprise the record of such a man and such a character in a brief space. He is yet alive. The great drama of his life is not yet played out. The hand of death has not set the seal of unalterable fact vipon his being and doing, — the materials of such a life are yet incomplete and imperfect. An outline of such a historic life is always interestmg, tracing a brilliant career through its various scenes and changes. Henry John Temple, Viscount Palmerston, was born at Broadlands, near Romney, in Hampshire, on the twentieth of October, 1784. His flimily, the Temples, trace their de- scent from one of the Saxou earls anterior to the Norman Conquest. With this family the ducal house of Bucking- ham and Chandos is connected by ancient marriage. The Temples themselves were of some distinction in English political history as early as the time of Elizaljeth, or even eai'lier ; but perhaps the most celebrated of them was the famous Sir Wilham Temple, the friend of William IH. and the patron of Dean Swift. They were first ennobled in 1722, when Henry Temple, Esq., was created Baron Temj^le of Mount Temple, county Sligo, and Viscount Palmerston 18 138 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. of Palmcrston, county Dublin, — both dignities being in the Irish peerage. He died in 1769, and was succeeded by his grandson Henry Temj^le, the second peer, who Hved till 1802. Of this second peer the subject of this sketch was the eldest son ; but there were three other children — a son, the late Sir William Temple, K. C. B., long British min- ister jjlenipotentiary at Naples, and two daughters, one of whom was the wife of Admiral Bowles. The present Lord Pahnerston was educated first at Harrow School, then at the University of Edinburgh, where Dugald Stewart and other distinguished professors were at that time in the height of their reputation, and lastly at St. John's College, Cambridge. Before the conclusion of his university educa- tion he succeeded his father in the title at the age of eighteen, 1802. In 1806 he took the degree of M. A. at Cambridge. Eai'ly in the same year, being then only twenty -one, he contested the representation of the Uni- versity of Cambridge in the House of Commons with Lord Henry Petty, now the Marquis of Lausdowne, who had just accepted the Chancellorship of the Exchequer under the Whig government of Lord Grenville, and was conse- quently obliged to appeal to his constituency. The young candidate for political honors failed in this attempt, but was unmediately returned to parliament for the borough of Bletchingley. He subsequently sat for Newport in the Isle of Wight, but at length obtained the object of his am- bition in Ijeing returned for the University of Cambridge. From his first entrance into jDarliament Lord Palmerston's conduct and manner were such as to impress his seniors with his tact and ability, and to mark him out for promo- tion and employment. He spoke seldom, but always interestr ingly and to the purpose ; and his talents for business were from the first conspicuous. In 1807, on the fonnation of the Tory administration of the Duke of Portland and Mr. Perceval, he was appointed, though then only in his twenty-fifth year, a jimior lord of the Admiralty. In this LORD PALMERSTON. 139 capacity he made jjerhaps Lis first important parliamentary appearance as a speaker in opposing a motion of Mr. Pon- sonby, February, 1808, for the production of papei's rela- tive to Lord Catlicart's expedition to Copenhagen and the destruction of the Danish fleet, — measures which had been ordered by the government for fear of an active cooperar tion of Denmark with Napoleon I. On this occasion Lord Palmerston broached those notions as to the necessity of secrecy in diplomatic aflairs on which he has ever since acted. In 1809, when Lord Castlereagh resigned the office of Secretary of War under the Perceval ministry, Lord Palmerston succeeded him ; and in February, 1810, he for the first time moved the Army estimates in the House. It seemed as if the secretaryship at war was the post in which Lord Palmerston was to live and die. He held it uninterruptedly through the Perceval administration ; he continued to hold it through the long Livei'pool-Castlereagh administration which followed, 1812-27, the first three years of whose tenure of power were occupied with the final great wars against Napoleon ; he held it still during Can- ning's brief premiership, April to August, 1827 ; he con- tinued to hold it under the ministry of Lord Goderich, August, 1827, to January, 1828 ; and he held it for a while under the succeeding administration of the Duke of Wellington. Under this last mmistry, however, he found himself unable to act. Never appearing to interest himself much in general politics, but confining himself as much as possil)le to the business of his own department, he had yet, towards the close of the Liverpool administration — especially after Canning's accession to the foreign secre- taryship on the death of Castlereagh in 1822 — shoAvn a more liberal spirit than was general among his colleagues. He seemed to attach himself to Canning and to share his opinions : like him, he was a friend to Roman Catholic emancipation, and to the cause of constitutional as distinct from despotic government on the Continent ; though, like 140 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. him also, he opposed for the time all projects of parlia- mentary reform at home. These tendencies, growing more decided after Canning's death, unfitted him for cooperation with the Duke of Wellington's government, and in May, 1828, he seceded from it along with Huskisson and others of " Canning's party." Meantime he had spoken much on foreign afiliirs, and with such ability that, after Canning's death, he was felt to be the greatest parliamentary master of that order of subjects. Before leaving the Wellington ministry he had opposed the Test and Corporation Bills; Init he had done so on the j^rinciple that he coidd not relieve Pi'otestant Dissenters till the emancipation of the Roman Catholics had taken place. As aia independent member. Lord Palmerston devoted himself especially to foreign questions. He kept up the character of being Mi'. Canning's successor, the inheritor of his mantle. His speech on the tenth of March, 1830, in which, in moving for papers respecting the relations of England with Portugal, he developed Canning's idea of the necessity of increased sympathy on the part of England with the cause of struggling nationality abroad, was ac- counted a great parliamentary success. The motion was lost by a majority of one hundred and fifty to seventy- three ; but it marked out Lord Palmerston as the future foreign secretary, as soon as a ministry should be formed of wdiich he could become a member. Such a ministry was formed m November, 1830, when the Duke of Wel- lington resigned, and the Whigs came into office. Twenty years Secretary at War as a Tory, Lord Palmerston now became foreign secretary as a Whig ; but his known at- tachment to the liberalized Toryism which Canning had professed and introduced, was felt to constitute a sufficient transition. Roman Catholic emancipation, of which he had always been a supporter, had already been carried ; and the only question where a modification of his previous opinions was requisite was that of parliamentary reform, LORD PALMERSTOX. 141 — the very question which the Whig ministry had been formed to settle. Lord Pahnerston's assent to the Reform Bill policy of his colleagues led to a disagreement Avith the Cambridge University electors ; and, losing his seat for Cambridge, he fell back, 1831, on his old borough of Bletchingley. Eepresenting first this borough, and then, after the Eeform Bill in 1832, the county of South Hants, Lord Palmerston remained foreign minister till December, 1834, when the Whigs went out of office, and were suc- ceeded by the Conservative ministry of Sir Robert Peel. This ministry lasted only till April, 1835, when the new Whig administration of Lord Melbourne was fonned, and Lord Palmerston, who had lost his seat for South Hants at the general election, and been returned for the borough of Tiverton, resumed his functions as foreign minister. He continued to exercise them till September, 1841 ; and these six years were perhaps the j^ei'iod during which he at- tained that reputation for brilliancy, alertness, and omnis- cience as a foreign minister, which has made his name a word of exultation to his admirers, and of execration and fear to some foreign governments. It was during this time that over the Continent from Spain to Turkey, the name " Palmerston " began to be used as synonymous with Eng- lish diplomatic activity ; and it was during the same time that a party of erratic politicians sprang up in England, who sought to prove that he was a voluntary tool of Rus- sia, and argued for his impeachment. The opposition of the Conservatives in parliament was a more normal matter. It was during this period of his foreign secretaryship un- der the Melbourne administration that Lord Palmerston married. His wife, the present Lady Palmerston, was the daughter of the first Lord Melbourne and the widow of the fifth Earl Cowper. On the reaccession of Sir Robert Peel to office in 1841, Lord Palmerston retired from the foreign secretaryship; and he continued in opposition till 1846, when, on the retii'ement of Sir Robert Peel after 142 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. the alsolition of the Corn Laws, July, 1846, he again became Foreign Secretary, as a member of the new Whig ministry of Lord John Russell. He continued to direct the diplomacy of the country in this capacity, — steering the policy of Britain in his characteristic fashion thix)ugh the many difficult and intricate foreign questions which arose, and, amongst them, through the many questions connected with the European revolu- tionary movement of 1848-49, including the Italian and Hungarian wars, — till the year 1851, when differences with Lord John Russell and with his other colleagues induced him to resign. The year 1851, in flict, closed that part of Lord Palmerston's history which is con- nected \vith his tenure of the foreign secretaryship in particular. But such a man could not remain long out of office. Broken up mainly by Lord Palmerston's secession from it, the ministry of Lord John Russell gave place, December, 1852, to the coalition ministry of Lord Aberdeen. As Lord Aberdeen had been the foreign minister under previous Conservative governments, and was therefore regarded as the rival and in some respects the antagonist of Lord Palmerston in this particular department. Lord Palmerston in joming the coalition ministry took the office of home secretary, while the foreign secretaryship was taken by Lord John Russell. The business of his new office was discharged l:)y Lord Palmerston with his customary activity till the dissolution of the Aberdeen ministry in 1855, when his Lordship ascended to the apex of power as the First Lord of the Treasmy and Prime Minister of Britain. In that capacity it has fallen to him to conduct the greatest war in which the country has been engaged since 1816, — the war with Russia ; and in the conduct of that war to establish that system of alliances with continental pow- ers, more especially with France, which still holds. From the time of the cotip d'etat in France, Lord Pahnerston LORD PALMERSTON. 143 had always expressed his respect for Louis Napoleon ; and consequently in the conduct of the war, and of the nego- tiations which concluded it, Napoleon III. and Lord Pal- merston are supposed to have deferred to each other, and to have acted systematically in concert. As regards other powers, consequently, there has not been on the part of Lord Palmerston, while premier, any strong dh-ection of the policy of England one way or the other. Thus, while always keeping up the language of Canning as to the joro- priety of encouraging freedom and constitutional govern- ment abroad, and while usmg this language more especially of late with respect to Italy, he has never ceased to assert the maintenance of the integrity and power of the Aus- trian empire to be a necessity in the European system. This principle appears to have regulated his conduct also as foreign minister in the matter of the Hungarian wars of 1848-9. He gave no approbation to the popular move- ments ; but he supported Turkey in refusing to give up the refugees, and advised the governments to leniency when the movements were suppressed, and to more moderate rule afterwards. The history of Lord Palmerston — of his acts, opinions, and views — is to he gathered in detail from the parliar mentary reports of the last fifty years ; but more especially from the Blue Books of our foreign diplomatic correspond- ence since he went into the foreign secretaryship thirty- six years ago. On special questions there have been scores of pamphlets for and against him. No collected edition of his speeches has been . published ; nor perhaps would the light, off-hand, and conversational yet energetic orations with which he charms the House, and often baffles and provokes an opjionent, bear this test ; but some of his more important speeches have been pviblished sepa- rately at the time of their delivery in the foi-m of pam- phlets. The others remain more or less vividly in the memories of those who heard them, or lie buried in "Han- 144 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. sard " and the newspapers. His speeches are generally shorter than those of other parliamentary leaders ; and his occasional letters show the same light and easy energy as his speeches. 'I ^"' [fli m 0.T © G^ M [R nn - ':2/e [LH LORD JOHN RUSSELL. This emiuent British minister and statesman has acted a prominent part in the jDubHc affairs of the Enghsh govern- ment for many years. Few public men have been more industrious or accomphshed so much in the various stations which he has filled, as Lord John Russell. Although now at the rijje age of seventy years, he still performs the arduous duties of a minister of the British Crown with untiring assiduity. The outhne historic sketch of such a man is interesting and instructive. The Right Hon. Lord John, is the third and youngest son of the sixth Duke of Bedford, by his first wife, the Hon. Georgiania Elizabeth, the second daughter of the fourth Viscount Torrington. His eldest brother, the pres- ent or seventh Duke, is four years his senior. He was born in Hertford Street, London, on the eighteenth of Au- gust, 1792, aud was educated first at Westminster school, and afterwards at the University of Edinburgh, where he attended the moral philosophy lectures of Dugald Stewart and Thomas Brown. It was Lord John Russell, who head- ed the deputation of students that waited on Dugald Stew- art to congratulate him on his recovery from the illness which had caused him to have recourse to Brown's help, and to thank him for having procured so valuable a sub- stitute. In 1813, at the age of twenty-one, he entered the House of Commons as member for Tavistock, of which borough his father had the disposal ; and, faithful 19 146 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. to the hereditary Whiggism of the house of Bedford, he attached huuself at once to the opposition, who were then maintaming Whig principles against the powerful ministry of Livei'pool and Castlereagh. It was about this time that the cessation of the European war left the mind of the nation free to return to home-politics ; and the first por- tion of Lord John Russell's parhamentary career is identi- fied with the progress of that stubborn contest which the Whig opposition, with the country at their l)ack, carried on inch by inch till the year 1827 against the reigning Tory- ism. His abilities, and the industry and conscientiousness Avith which he devoted himself to politics as his business, concurred, with the advantages of his birth and connec- tions as a scion of the great ducal house of Bedford, to give him very soon the place of a leader among the Whig politicians. While takmg part in all the Whig questions, he fastened from the first with extraordinary tenacity on the main question of parliamentary reform, l^ringing for- ward or supporting year after year measures for the suji- pression of rotten boroughs and the enfranchisement of large commercial towns. Lord Brougham, after speaking of the great services rendered to the cause of reform at this time in parliament by Earl Grey, Sir Francis Burdett, Lord Durham, and others, says, "But no one did more lasting and real service to the question than Lord John Russell, whose repeated motions, backed by the progress of the subject out of doors, had the effect of increasing the minority in its favor, in so much that when he at last brought it forward in 182G, Mi-. Canning, [then Castle- reagh's successor in the foreign secretaryship in the Liv- erpool cabinet, but virtual head of the government,] find- ing he could only defeat it by a comparatively small majority, pronounced the question substantially carried. It was probably from this time that his j^arty perceived the prudence of sta//ing a change which they could not jircvent." The bill, the proposal of which had this important efiect. LORD JOHN RUSSELL. 147 was one for disfranchising certain rotten boroughs and substituting large and imj^ortant towns in their place. At the time of pro2:)Osing it Lord John was no longer member for Tavistock, but for Huntingdonshire, which county he had represented since 1820. While thus laying the foundation of his reputation as a serious and persevering Whig statesman, and as the man among the junior Whigs who had made the question of parliamentary refoim most thoroughly his own, Lord John had at the same time made various appearances as an author. Li 1819 he pubhshed in qviarto a "Life of Wil- liam, Lord Russell, with some account of the Times in which he lived," — a graceful and characteristic tribute to his celebrated Whig ancestor. The work was followed in 1821 by "An Essay on the History of the English Gov- ei'nment and Constitution, from the Reign of Henry VII. to the Present Time ; " and this again by an effort in verse entitled " Don Carlos, or Persecution ; a Tragedy in Five Acts," published in 1822, and which went through several editions in the course of that year. The subject of the tragedy is the story of Don Carlos of Spain, the son of Philip II., already dramatized by the genius of Schiller. In 1824 Lord John published the first volume of a work of a different character, entitled " Memoirs of the Affairs of Europe from the Peace of Utrecht," but the work was not completed till 1829. Several lighter pro- ductions, in the shape of sketches, etc., also came from his pen about this period ; and indeed for a time he seemed to be divided between politics and literature. This was the period of his first intimacy with Moore and with others of the literary men who used to frequent the society of Lord Lansdowne and of Holland House ; and there is extant a poem of Moore's remonstrating with Lord John Russell on an intention which he had inti- mated to Moore in conversation, of withdrawuig from po- litical pursuits altogether: — 148 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. " Shall thou be faint-lieai'tecl ami turn from tlie strife, From the mighty ai'ena, where all that is grand And devoted and pure and adorning in life 'Tis for high-thoughted spirits like thine to command ? " Fortunately, Lord John did not carry out Lis intention, but continued in that career of pohtical hfe, in which it was, and not specially in literature, that nature had fitted him to excel. On the resignation of the Wellington ministry in Novem- ber, 1830, Lord John Russell, then in the thirty-ninth year of his age, entered on office for the first time, as Pay- master of the Forces, under the reform or first Whig min- istry of Earl Grey, — a ministry which the death of George IV. and the accession of AVilliam IV. had rendered possible. Parliamentary reform was now the one paramount question of national interest ; and the new ministry had come in expressly because the country wished them to carry it. The man on whom the most important part of the work devolved was Lord John Russell. He was one of four members of the ministry, — the others bemg Lord Durham, Sir James Graham, and Lord Duncannon, — who were ap- pointed to shape and prepare the bill and submit it to their colleagues ; and on the first of March, 1831, he brought before the House of Commons the bill so pre- pared and agreed upon. Some measure of reform had been expected ; but a bill of so comprehensive a kind as this took the country by sin-prise. When Lord John produced it in the house, it was re- ceived by the opposite party almost with derision, as ut- terly impracticable. But the enthusiasm with which the bill — so for surpassing all expectation — was taken up out of doors changed the derision into alarm. The mem- bers of the Tory party mustered all their strength against the bin ; and in the Commons Sir Charles Wetherell, Mr. Croker, Mr. Bankes, and Sir Robert Peel appeared as champions more esj)ecially of "close boroughs" as a neces- LORD JOHN RUSSELL. . 149 sary part of tlio British constitution. After debates of lui- paralleled violence, Lord John's bill passed the second read- ing by a majority of one. On the motion for going into committee, however, the bill was thrown out by a majority of eight ; and it became necessary that the ministry should either resign or dissolve parliament. They adopted the latter alternative. Tlie nation re- sponded with extraordinary decision. Regarding the prom- ised " Reform " as little short of a promised millennium, the constituencies withstood the influence of great Tory land- lords, etc., and to a greater extent than could have Ijeen conceived j)Ossible, returned Reformers. In this general election Lord John was returned for the county of Devon. When the new parliament met, the progress of the bill through the House of Commons was, of course, triumphant. Then came the opposition of the peers. The bill reached the House of Lords on the twenty-second of September, 1831 ; and on the second reading it was thrown out by a majority of forty-one. A vote of confidence passed in the Commons by a majority of 131 w\as the immediate answer to this ; and it saved the ministry the necessity of resign- ing. Parliament was prorogued to give opportunity for modifying the bill ; and on its reassemblhig the bill again went to the Lords altered in some points, but with the all-important Schedule A and the Ten Pound Household franchise still remaining. Still the Lords were hostile; Lord Grey was placed in a minority of thirty-five ; and, after a long interview Avith the king, he and his colleagues re- signed, and the government was mtrusted to the Duke of Wellington, May 9, 1832. It was now a face to face con- test between the Duke as the representative of Toryism, and the nation vehement for refonn and ready to go to civil war for it. The issue is known. The Duke saw that he and the peers must yield ; Earl Grey resumed the min- istry. May 18th, and on the seventh of June, 1832, the Re- form Bill became the law of the land. The name of Lord 150 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. John Russell will be evei" identified with this important crisis in the history of his country ; and his conduct dur- ing the fifteen months in which the bill was in suspense added greatly to his popularity. In the new or first refoi-med parliament Lord John sat as member for the electoral district of South Devon, 1832-35. He still continued to hold the comparatively subordinate office of Paymaster of the Forces in the Grey and Melbourne ministry, till that ministry was broken up by internal differences and secessions, and succeeded, De- cember, 1834, by the Conservative ministry of Sir Robert Peel. In the various important measures that had been passed l>y the Grey ministry he had had his full share ; and when he went into opposition, it was with the character of having been one of the most consistent of the ministry in genuine Whig principles. Earl Grey had by this time withdrawn from public life ; Lord Stanley and Sir James Graham had seceded from the Whigs on the question of the Irish Church ; Lord Brougham was assuming that po- sition of pohtical isolation in which he has since remained ; and Lord Durham was tending towards radicalism. With the exception of Lord Melbourne, Lord John Russell was now preeminently the representative of historical Whiggism. Accordingly, when Sir Robert Peel, finding his attempt at a Conservative government abortive, resigned office in AprU, 1835, and a new Whig ministry was formed under Lord Mel))Ourne, the Home Secretaryship, and with it, the dig- nity of ministerial leader in the House of Commons, was assigned to Lord John. He had been ousted from his seat for South Devon and now sat for Stroud, — a borough which he continued to represent till 1841. In 1839, Lord John exchanged the post of Home Secretary in the Mel- bourne ministry for that of Colonial Secretary, which he held while the ministry lasted. In both these posts he earned the character of a punctual and able administrator ; while his contemijorary activity in ijarliament in carrying LORD JOHN RUSSELL. 151 the Municipal Reform Act and the other measures of the ministry corresponded with his place as its virtual head. About this time, however, the character of being too much of a " Finality " Reformer began to attach to him ; and the more advanced liberals of the country began to attack him in that charactei'. An exposition of much of his political creed, at this time, will be found in his published ■" Letters to the Electors of Stroud, on the Principles of the Reform Act," which went through various editions. But Whiggism generally was not so popular throughout the country as it had been, the experience of some nine years having abated the enormous expectations awakened by the Reform Bill, while the formidable power of O'Con- nell was also telling against the Whigs. This was shown by the result of the general election of 1841. In the August of that year. Lord Melljourne in the House of Lords, and Lord John Russell in the House of Commons, announced the resignation of the Whig ministry. Sir Rob- ert Peel came into power at the head of that Conservative administration which lasted till July, 1846. During these five years, August, 1841 to July, 1846, Lord John's po- sition in parliament was that of leader of the Whig oppo- sition. He no longei', however, sat for Stroud, but for the city of London, having been elected in 1841 as one of the representatives of this great constituency. As leader of the opposition he was true to his character as a moderate Whig of the historical school rather than a violent chief of faction eager to oust his opponents and adapting his principles and his promises to that end. But the great movement of the day was not one having much con- nection with Whiggism proper. While Messrs. Cobden and Brioht were conductins; the Anti-Corn Law ao;itation out of doors, and the opinion of the country was flowing mainly in the channel of this great question, Lord John Russell's relation to it was rather that of an observer from within parliament than of an active guide one way or the 152 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. other. At first, indeed, he, as well as the Conservatives, was opposed to the League ; and his favorite solution of the problem was by a small fixed duty on foreign corn. At length, however, in a letter from Edinburgh addressed to his constituents, he spoke out in favor of total repeal. This was in the autumn of 1845. It was not destined, however, that a Whig ministry should settle this great question. Sir Robert Peel himself came to the desired con- clusion, and by his exertions and influence among the Con- servatives, the Corn Laws were abolished July 26, 1846. The ministry of Sir Eobert Peel having been shortly afterwards broken up by the rejection of his Irish coercion bin, Lord John Russell was called to the premiership as the head of a Whig ministry. He held the office of premier from July, 1846, to March, 1852. The general complaint made against his administration both at the time and since, was that it was non-progressive and fruitless of important measures. " The Whigs in office," it was said, " do less than the Conservatives." The reason of this com- plaint, so far as it was just, may have lain partly in Lord John's own character, as a Whig of the historical school, adverse not only to the ballot, but to many of those other measures on which the more advanced Liberals had set their hopes and which they had in view when they spoke of progress. In a great measure, however, it consisted in the 1jroken-up state of parfiamentary parties. There were now the Peelites, and the Protectionists or Derbyites, as well as the Whigs and the advanced Liberals, and among these parties Lord John could depend on but a small and varying majority. Nor in those cases in which he did make attempts of an energetic character was he fortunate in conciliating support to his policy. His "Letter to the Bishop of Durham in reference to the usurpation of the Pope of Rome," published in 1850, just after the bull ap- pointing Cardinal Wiseman Roman Catholic Primate of England and other Roman Catholic Bishops in various LOED JOHN RUSSELL. 153 English sees, occasioned much adverse comment ; and the Ecclesiastical Titles Bill, dealing with the same question, proved a failure. Towards the close of 1851, too, his gov- ernment was further weakened by the secession of Lord Palmerston, who then quitted the foreign office in circum- stances having the appearance of a rupture with the Whigs on account of offence taken at his foreign policy. Accord- ingly, in March, 1852, the country saw with little concern Lord John's ministry defeated on a Militia Bill, which they had introduced with a view to provide for the defence of the country in case of a foreign war. The blow to the ministry was given by Lord Palmerston, who proposed an important alteration in the ministerial measure. The government thus passed into the hands of Lord Derby and Mr. Disraeh, who had in the mean time reorganized a strong Protectionist or old Tory j^arty. After holding office for some months, the Derby-Disraeli government broke down on the budget, and the celebrated Coalition Cabinet 'was formed with Lord Aberdeen at its head, December, 1852. Li this cabinet Lord Palmerston took the office of Home Secretary; and Lord John Russell held that of Foreign Seci-etary till February, 1853, when he resigned it to Lord Clarendon. From February, 1853, till June, 1854, he preferred the somewhat anomalous posi- tion of a member of the Cabinet without office ; but in June, 1854, he accepted the office of Lord President of the Council. In this office, he brought forward in that year a new Refonn Bill which he had prepared in the last year of his own premiership and had hoped then to carry. Both the country and parliament however being then en- grossed with the beginnings of the great Russian war. Lord John was obliged to abandon his favorite measure, or at least to postpone it to a more convenient time. Nor was it long before he found occasion to differ with Lord Aberdeen and the Peelite portion of the government on the conduct of the war. Refusing to share the unpopular- 20 154 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. ity attached to the A1)erdeen ministry on account of the disasters in the Crimea, Lord John resigned his connection with it before its final disruption in January, 185G. Ac- cordingly, when Lord Palmerston formed his ministry for the more vigorous prosecution of the war, Lord John con- sented to serve under him as Colonial Secretary. This connection between two men whose antecedents had made them to some extent rivals did not last long. When the Vienna conferences were agreed upon with a view to the conclusion of a peace between Russia and the allies, Lord John accepted the oflfer made by Lord Palmerston that he should be British plenipotentiary at the conferences. The issue of his lordship's negotiations in this capacity did not give satisfaction ; and in June, 1855, he resigned his place in the mmistry, and left to Lord Palmerston the honor and responsibility of concluding the war in a manner that the nation would approve. From that time till the moment at which we write, April, 1857, Lord Jolm's position in parliament has been that of an independent statesman, — sometimes supporting and, sometimes criticising Lord Palmerston's policy, and in the mean time waiting, it is supposed, tUl events recall himself to power and enalde him to initiate a new era of Whiggism by another Reform Bill. He was one of that miscellaneous majority who supported Mr. Cobden's motion, condemning Lord Palmerston's government, on account of the hostile proceedings against Canton, and so occasioned the dissolution of parliament in March, 1857. Pul)lic feel- ing so thoroughly going along with Lord Palmerston on this " China question," it was supposed that Loixl John Russell would lose his seat for London, if he presented himself for reelection. EtForts were made to oust him ; Init he was bold enough to go to the poll ; and the recollec- tion of his past services so far prevailed over temporary dissatisfaction with him that he was returned third on the list. At the present moment, April, 1857, there is much LORD JOHN RUSSELL. 155 speculation as to what may be liis future career. That he may yet lead the country in great home questions is everywhere regarded as a likelihood ; and it remains yet to be seen whether Lord Palmerston's relations to him and his to Lord Palmerston will be such in the new parliament that the country can have the services of both without the spectacle of their rivalry. Lord John has been twice married, — first to Adelaide, eldest daughter of Thomas Lister, Esq., of Armytage Park, and widow of the second Lord Eibblesdale ; and secondly, to Lady Frances, second daughter of the Earl of Minto. He has a family. Among his literary appearances, besides those that have been mentioned, and besides numerous po- litical letters, etc., are "A Selection from the Correspond- ence of John, fourth Duke of Bedford, from the Originals at Woburn Abbey, \vith an Introduction," 1842-3; "Memo- rials and Correspondence of Charles James Fox," edited, etc., 1853, ei seq. ; and " Memoirs, Journal, and Correspondence of Thomas Moore," edited, etc., 1853-6. Lord John has also not unfrequently lectured at educational and other institu- tions ; and some of these lectures have been pubhshed, — the latest being one on " The Obstacles which have re- tarded Moral and Political Progress," delivered in Exeter Hall before the Young Men's Christian Association in 1856. He has recently annoimced his intention not to lecture in public any more, — but to devote his time rather to fur- thering the cause of education as a statesman. -.:A\iB>[L ClL LORD CLARENDON. The long public life and eminent services of this noble- man have much endeared him to the people of England. George William Frederick Vilhers, now fourth Earl of Clarendon, was born January 12, 1800. He is the eldest son of the late Hon. George Villiers, by Theresa, only daughter of the first Lord Boringdon. He succeeded to the title on his uncle's death in December, 1838. The fomider of the Villiers family was a favorite of James I., whose descendants became ultimately earls of Jersey. About the middle of last century a younger son of the then Earl of Jersey married a daughter of the Earl of Essex, whose countess was heiress of the Hydes, formerly Earls of Clarendon and Rochester. This gentleman, who was successively joint Postmaster-General, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, and Ambassador at the Court of Berlin, was ultimately created Earl of Clarendon in 1776 ; and it is his third sou who was the father of the present peer. Lord Clarendon was educated at Cambridge. He entered the civil service at an early age; and in 1823 was ap- pointed to a commissionership of the excise in Dublin by the late Marquis of Anglesey. The ability, intelligence, mental activity, and general knowledge displayed by liim in this capacity, recommended him to the home govern- ment for some higher employment. Accordingly, in 1831, he was employed by the government in arranging a com- mercial treaty with France ; and, when a crisis arrived in Spanish affairs in 1833, he was sent to the Court of Madrid 158 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. as British Envoy and Minister Plenipotentiary. Here again, though his stay was prolonged through a period of more than ordinary civil strife and confusion, he was so fortu- nate as to secure the confidence of the government which he represented, and at the same time the good opinion of the inhabitants of the Sjaanish metropolis. Soon after his accession to the earldom, in 1838, he returned to England. He had not long taken his seat in the House of Lords, when a speech which he delivered on the question of Spanish affah's attracted the pubHc attention ; and, on a rearrangement of the Melbourne Cabmet taking place in January, 1840, Lord Clarendon was appomted Lord Privy Seal, an office to which the chancellorship of the Duchy of Lancaster was added on Lord Holland's death in the same year. Li 1841 Sir Robert Peel came again into power, and Lord Clarendon's official duties ceasing, he re- mained in opposition for five years. On the accession of Lord John Eussell to the premiership in 1846, he became President of the Board of Trade. This position however he did not long retam, as on the death of tlie Earl of Bessborough, he was sent to Ireland as Lord-Lieutenant in May, 1847. He entered on his viceregal duties at a period of consideralile agitation. Famine and fever had brought on great national distress and suffering, and the death of O'ConneU, which had been announced in Dublin a few days previously, was just beginning to cause much popular excitement ; the Repeal Association were holding larger meetings and usmg stronger language than ever ; and the partial rebellion of 1848 was beginning to cast its shadow before it. The following extract from Lord Clarendon's answer to an address presented to liim by the Roman Catholic prelates states in few words the spirit in which he entered on his duties as viceroy there : — " The eternal principles of justice and morality can never be violated with imj^unity, and the unrighteous legislation of by -gone times has left in Ireland traces which must be long and LORD CLARENDON. 159 severely felt. By joenal enactments, doubtless, industry was discouraged, property was unequally distributed, the growth of a middle class was retarded, the people were demoral- ized, and the whole flibric of society rendered hollow and insecure. The remedy for such a state of things has of necessity been slow and difficult ; but it is for the legisla- ture and the government, and for all those who, living in better times and exercising authority, have at heart the true interests of Ireland, to efface the memory of the past, and by equal laws, im23artial justice, and forbearing par tience, steadily to carry on the great work of social regen- eration, and to jilivce the people of Ireland in the position which they are entitled to occupy." In spite however of this declaration. Lord Clarendon was obliged before the end of the year to proclaim sevei'al disaffected districts. The energetic and prudent manner in which he met the threatened danger, and by which he averted the attempt at rebellion in the following year, established his political character in a point of view which the historian of that period will gladly turn to as a proof of the efficiency of a just modei'ation as opposed alike to a blind security or a violent system of coercion. At a later period he had to repress the excesses of the Orange party, and in so doing displayed firmness and moderation similar to that which the popular tumults had called forth. Lord Clarendon held the viceregal office till February, 1852, when, with the other memljers of the Russell ministry, he resigned, and was replaced by the Earl of Eglinton. His impartial rule exposed him to the censures of the moi'e violent writers and orators belonging to both the extreme parties which so long divided Ireland ; but now that strife has somewhat subsided, all parties seem willing to acknowledge Lord Clarendon's desire to improve the national condition of the people and to increase the prosperity of the country. Immediately on the formation of the Aberdeen minis- try. Lord Clarendon gave in his adhesion to the coahtion 160 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. cabinet, and took the seals of the Foreign Office, for which it was felt that he was admirably fitted by his address and skill in diplomacy, and from his deep insight into the views and feelings of the various courts and cabinets of Europe. The ability with which he has discharged the duties of that office since January, 1853, has been repeatedly recog- nized, not merely by friends, but by political opponents; so much so, that when, in 1855, Lord Derby ineffectually attempted to form a ministry, he confessed that, in the event of becoming premier, he would have been ready to offer the Foreign Seals to Lord Clarendon. On the acces- sion of Lord Palmerston to power in February, 1855, no change was made in the foreign department. Accordingly, in the great and stirring events of the last three years, Lord Clarendon has been forced to occupy a leading posi- tion, and he has played a distinguished part well. But though he showed a proper energy in supporting the con- duct of the war, Lord Clarendon was not unmiudful of the blessings of peace, and did not desire to carry on hostili- ties further than was sufficient to secure the foundation of an honorable and lasting peace. Accordingly, when it was announced that a peace congress was about to be held at Paris, the nation looked to Lord Clarendon to take part in it on behalf of England. This duty Lord Clarendon discharged in conjunction with Lord Cowley, the British ambassador at Paris. In a speech delivered at the opening of the session of parliament in 1856, he explained fully the views with which her Majesty's ministers would enter on the negotiation with Russia. While he denied that the English government intended to carry on the war after the primary end and object had been attained, he still de- clared that xmtil those negotiations should be concluded, every preparation would continue to be made for war; and that if a peace should not be ai'ranged, the war would be prosecuted with increased activity. It was this speech, probably, which tended more than any other single cause LOED CLARENDON. 161 to lead the natioual mind to acquiesce iu the peace re- cently concluded, April, 1856, between the beUigerent pow- ers ; and the judgment and tact displayed by his lordship in the congress at Paris have been the subject of no slight or partial praise among all classes. His discreet zeal m the matter of mooted refonns, both civil and religious, in the States of the Italian peninsula, has also been deservedly commended. Lord Clarendon married in 1839 a sister of the present Earl of Verulam, by whom he has a youthful ftimily. He was created a G. C. B. (Civil) m 1838, and m 1849 re- warded with the knighthood of the Garter. Of his broth- ers, one has been recently advanced to the Bishopric of Carlisle, and the other is the Eight Hon. Charles Pelham Vilhers, Judge-Advocate-General, and M. P. for Wolver- hampton, whose early exertions in the cause of free trade are not likely to be easily forgotten by the British public. A sister of the Earl of Clarendon, Lady Theresa Lewis, is favorably kno^vn as the authoress of the series of bio- graphical sketches entitled " Friends and Contemporaries of the Lord Chancellor Clarendon." 21 :}.•/,'/!:,/■ r.'.^JSAR'PAiN AFrr.H IjM'nETS POBIWUT THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. With the accurate and imposing portrait of this re- nowned commander of British armies and hero of an hundred battles, and the conqueror of Napoleon on the memorable and sanguinary field of Waterloo, it is fitting to record a brief outline biographical sketch of his events ful life. The portrait is lifelike. We have seen the orig- inal face often, and love to gaze u2:)on one whose eyes have looked out upon such tremendous scenes of battle and carnage. Arthur Wellesley, afterwards Duke of Wellington, was bom at Dangan Castle in Ireland, on May 1, 1769. Mar- shal Ney, Goethe, and several of the greatest men of the age, were born in the same year. His father was Lord Mornington, an Irish nobleman, but he was of Norman blood, being ImeaUy descended from the standard-bearer to Henry H., in his conquest of Ireland in the year 1100. His elder brother, who succeeded to the flimily honors, was a man of great genius and capacity, who afterwards be- came Governor-General of India, and was created Marquis Wellesley. Thus the same family had the extraordinary fortune of giving birth to the statesman whose counsel and rule preserved and extended the British empire in the Eastern, and the hero whose invincible arm saved his coun- try and conquered Napoleon in the Western world. Young Arthur Wellesley, after having received the elements of education at Eton, was sent to the military school of An- gers in France to be instructed in the art of war, for which he already evinced a strong predilection. He re- 164 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. ceived his first couiniissiou in the army in the thirty-third regiment, which to this day is distinguished by the honor then conferred upon it. The first occasion on which he was called into active service was in 1793, when his regi- ment was ordered abroad, and formed part of the British contingent, which marched across from Ostend, under Lord Moira, to join the allied army in Flanders. He bore an active part in the campaign which followed, and distin- guished himself so much in several actions with the enemy, that, though only a captain in rank, he came at length to execute the duties of major, and did good service in sev- eral well-fought aftairs of the rear guard in which he bore a part. Though the issue of the campaign was unfortu- nate, and it terminated in the disastrous retreat through Holland in 1794, yet it was of essential service in training Wellesley to the duties to which he was hereafter to be called, for it was with an army at one time mustering ninety thousand combatants that he had served ; and his first initiation into the duties of his profession was with the great bodies which he was afterwards destmed to com- mand, and his firet insight into war was on a great scale, to which his own achievements were one day destined to form so bright a contrast. After the return of the troops from Holland, the thirty -third regiment was not again called into active service till 1799, when it was sent out to India, to reinforce the troops there on the eve of the important war, in which Lord Wellesley, his elder brother, who was now Governor- General, was engaged with the forces of Tippoo Saib. Young Wellesley went with them, and on his way ovit his library consisted of two books, which he studied incessantly, — the Bible, and Ctesar's Commentaries. War having broken out in 1803 between the East-India Company and the Mahrattas, General Wel- lesley, to which rank he had now been promoted, received the command of one of the armies destined to operate against them. After having stormed the strong fortress of THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 165 Achmednagliur, which Lay on the road, he came up with the Mahratta force, thirty thousand strong, posted at the village of Assay e. Wellesley's forces, at the moment, did not exceed four thousand five hundred men, of whom only seventeen hundred were European ; and the half of his army, under Colonel Stevenson, was at a distance, ad- vancing by a different road, separated from his own by a ridge of intervening hills. But justly deeming the boldest course in such critical ch'cumstances the most prudent, he took the resolution of instantly attacking the enemy with the small body of men under his immediate command. The result showed the wisdom as well as heroism of the determination. After a desperate struggle, in which he himself charged a Mahratta battery at the head of the seventy -fourth regiment, the vast army of the enemy, which comprised eighteen thousand splendid horse, was totally defeated, all their guns, ninety -seven in number, taken, and their army entirely dispersed. General Welles- ley was made a Knight of the Bath for this victory, and he returned to England Sir Arthur Wellesley. His next employment was at the expedition under Lord Cathcart to Copenhagen, in 1807, on which occasion he commanded a division of the anny. He was not engaged in the siege, but commanded a corps which was detached against a body of Danes twelve thovisand strong, who had collected, in the rear of the British force, in the island of Zealand. They were dispersed without much difficulty by a body of seven thousand men, under Sir Arthur Wellesley. After the tall of Copenhagen he returned to England, and was nominated soon after to the command, in the first instance, of an expeditionary force of ten thousand men, which was fitted out at Cork, to cooperate with the Portuguese in rescuing their country from the tyrannic grasp of the French Emperor. The expedition set sail in June, 1808, and landed on the coast of Portugal, when they were soon assailed by General Junot, who had marched out of Lisbon, 166 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. with nineteen thousand men, to drive him into the sea. The British force consisted of sixteen thousand, and, as this was the first time the troops of the rival nations had met in the peninsula, great interest was attached to the conflict. The French were defeated after a sharp action ; and Sir Arthur had made preparations to follow up his victory by marching the same evening to Torres Vedras, where he woidd be between Junot and Lisbon, and would either drive him to a disastrous retreat or force him to surrender. But at this critical moment, when the order had just been despatched for this decisive movement, Sir H. Burrard ar- rived, and took the command. He belonged to the old school, with whom it was deemed enough to fight one battle in one day, and he gave orders to halt. Junot, in consequence, hastened back to Torres Vedras, without los- ing an hour, and regained the capital. Sir H. Dalrymple Koon afterAvards arrived, and concluded the famous conven- tion of Cintra, hy which the French evacuated the whole of Portugal. That convention excited unbounded indignar tion in England at the time ; but Sir A. Wellesley justly supported it, for, when the opportunity of cutting off Junot from Lisbon had been lost, it was the best thing that could be done. Next year, still more operations were un- dertaken. Sir Arthur, wdio had now been appointed to the sole command of the army in Portugal, landed at Lisbon on April fourth, and l)y his presence restored the confidence which had been much weakened by the disastrous issue of Sir John Moore's campaign in the close of the preceding year. His first operation was to move against Marshal Soult, who had advanced to Oporto with twenty thousand men and taken that city. By a bold movement he ef- fected the passage of the Tagus, mider the very guns of the enemy, and drove the French to so rapid a retreat, that he partook of the dinner which had been prepared for Marshal Soult ! The French general, by abandoning all his guns and baggage, efiected his retreat into Galicia, but THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 167 not without sustaining losses as great as Sir John Moore had done in the preceding year. He next turned towards Sjjain, and having effected a junction with the Sjianish general, Cuesta, in Estramadura, their united forces, sixty thousand strong, but of whom only twenty thousand were English and Portuguese, advanced towards Madrid. They were met at Talavera by King Joseph, at the head of forty-five thousand of the best French troops in Spain. A desperate action of two days' duration ensued, which fell almost entirely on the English and Portuguese, as the Spaniards, who were thirty-eight thousand in number, fled at the first shot. The French were in the end defeated, with the loss of eight thousand men and seventeen guns ; but the fruits of victory were in a great measure lost to tlio English by the arrival of Marshals Soult, Ney, and Mortier, with the whole forces m the provinces of Galicia, Leon, and Asturias, in their rear, which forced them to retreat to the Portuguese frontier. But one lasting good effect resulted from this movement, that these provinces were liberated from the enemy, who never after regained their footing in them. The year 1810 witnessed the invasion of Portugal by a huge French army, eighty thousand strong, imder Marshal Massena, which, after capturing the fortresses of Ciudad Kodrigo and Ahneida, penetrated into the very heart of that country. Sir Arthur, who had now been created Vis- count Wellington, had only thirty-five thousand men under his command, with which it was unpossible to prevent the fall of those fortresses. But he took so strong a position on the ridge of Busaco that he repulsed, with great slaughter, an attack upon it by two corps of the French army, and when at length obliged to retire, from his flank being turned after the battle was over, he did so to the position of Torres Vedras, thirty miles in front of Lisbon, which, by the advantages of nature and the resources of art had been rendered mipregnable. Six hundred guns 168 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. were mounted on the redoubts, which were defended by sixty thousand armed men. After wasting five months in front of this formida])le barrier, the French general was forced to retreat, wliich he did, closely followed by Wel- lington to the Sjsanish frontier. There Massena turned on his pursuer, and he reentered Spain with a view to bring- away the garrison of Almeida, which was now invested ; but he was met and defeated at Fuentes d'Onore by Wel- lington, and forced to retire without effecting his object to Ciudad Rodrigo. The remainder of the year 1810 and the whole of 1811 passed over without any very important events, although a desperate battle took place in the latter year at Albuera, where Marshal Soult was defeated, with the loss of seven thousand men, by Marshal Beresford, in an attempt to raise the siege of Badajoz, which Wellington was besieging. He was compelled to desist from that en- terprise after he had made gi-eat progress in the siege, by a general concentration of the whole French forces in the centre and south of Sjoain, who advanced against him to the number of sixty thousand men. But, though Welling- ton withdrew into Portugal on this occasion, it was only soon to return into Spain. In the depth of winter he secretly prepared a battering train, which he directed against Ciudad Rodrigo, when Marmont's army, charged with its defence, was disj)ersed in winter quarters, and after a siege of six days, took it by storm in January, 1812. No sooner was this done than he directed his forces against Badajoz, which he also carried by storm, after a dreadful assault, which cost the victors four thousand men. Directing then his footsteps to the north, he defeated Mar- mont, with the loss of twenty thousand men, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, near Salamanca ; and advancing to Madrid, he entered that capital in triumph, and compelled the evacuation of the whole of the south of Spain by the French troops. He then turned again to the north, and advanced to Burgos, the castle of which he attempted to THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 169 carry, Ijut in vain. He was obliged again to retire, by a general concentration of the whole French troops in Spain, one hundred thousand strong, against him, and regained the Portuguese frontier, after having sustained very heavy losses during his retreat. The next campaign, that of 1813, was a continual triumph. Early in May, Welhngton, whose army had now Ijeen raised to seventy thousand men, of whom forty thousand were native Englishmen, moved forwai'd, and driving everything before him, came up with the French army of equal strength, which was concentrated from all parts of Sjiain in the Plain of Vit- toria. The battle which ensued was decisive of the fate of the peninsula. The French, who were under King Joseph in person, were totally defeated, with the loss of one hundred and fifty-six pieces of cannon, four hundred and fifteen tumbrils, their whole baggage, and an amount of spoil never before won in modern times by an army. The accumulated plunder of five years in Spain was wrenched from them at one fell swoop. For several miles the soldiers literally marched on dollars and Napoleons which strewed the ground. The French regamod their frontier with only one gun, and in the deepest dejection. St. Sebastian was immediately besieged, and taken, after two bloody assaults, Pampeluna blockaded, and a gallant army, thirty-five thousand strong, which Soult had collected in the south of France to raise the blockade, defeated with the loss of twelve thousand men. Wellington next de- feated an attempt of the French again to penetrate into France at St. Marcial, and followmg up his successes, crossed the Bidassoa, stonned the lines they had constructed on the mountains, which were deemed impregnable, and after repeated actions, which were most obstinately contested through the winter, drove them entu-ely from the neigh- borhood of Bayonne, and completed the investment of that fortress, while Soult retired, with forty thousand men, tow- ards Toulouse. Thither he was followed next spring by 22 170 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. Wellington, who again defeated him at Orthes, m a pitched battle, after which he detached his left wing, under Lord Dalhousie, which occupied Bordeaux. The main army, un- der Wellington in person, followed Soult and brought him to action, in a fortified position of immense strength, on the heights of Toulouse. The battle took jilace four days after peace had been signed, but when it was unknown to the allies : it graced the close of Wellington's peninsular career by a glorious victory. Honors and emoluments of all kinds were now showered ujion the English general. He received a field-marshal's baton from George IV., in re- turn for Marshal Jourdan's, taken on the memorable field of Vittoria ; he was made a duke at the conclusion of the 2)eace ; received the thanks of both Houses of Parliament, and grants at different times to the amount of five hun- dred thousand pounds to purchase an estate and build a palace. He was chiefly at Paris during the year 1814, conducting the negotiations for peace ; but on the return of Napoleon from Elba in March, 1815, he was appointed to the command of the united army of British, Hanove- rians, and Belgians, seventy thousand strong, formed in the Netherlands, to resist the anticipated attack of the French Emperor. The French Emperor was not long in making the anticipated irruption ; and on the fifteenth of June, 1815, he crossed the frontier, and drove in the Prussian outposts, with one hundred and thirty thousand men. Next day he attacked the Prussians, under Bliicher, with eighty thousand, and despatched Ney with thirty thousand against Wellington's army, which was only beginning to be con- centrated. A desperate action ensued at Quatre Bras, in which the French were at length rejDulsed with the loss of five thousand men ; and, on the eighteenth, Wellington, having collected aU his forces at the post of Waterloo, gave battle to Napoleon in person, who was at the head of eighty thousand men. His force was only sixty-seven thousand, with one hundred and fifty-six gims, — whereas, THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 171 the French had two hundred and fifty ; and of these troops only forty-three thousand were Enghsh, and Hanoverians, and B runs wickers, who could be reUed on, the remainder being Belgians, who ran away the moment the action was seriously engaged. Notwithstanding this great inequality, the British army maintained its ground with invincible firmness till seven o'clock, when the arrival of fifty thou- sand Prussians, under Bliicher, on Napoleon's flank, enabled Wellington to take the oflensive. The result was the total defeat of the French army, with the loss of forty thousand men and one hundred and fifty-six guns. Napoleon fled to Paris, which he soon after left, and surrendered to the English, and Louis XVIII. having returned to his capital, his dynasty, and with it peace, was restored. The allies having determined to occupy the frontier fortresses, with an army of one hundred and fifty thousand men during five years, the command of the whole was bestowed on the Duke of Wellington; thus afibrding the clearest proof that his was the master-mind which had come to direct the European alliance. Wellington resigned his command, and with it his magnificent appointments, in October, 1818, and returned to England, to the retirement of a comparar tively private station, terminating thus a career of un- broken military glory by the yet purer lustre arising from relieving the difficulties and assuaging the sufferings of his vanquished enemies. In 1819 he was appointed com- mander-in-chief of the army, which situation he held dur- ing the whole anxious years which followed, and by his able and far-seeing arrangements, contributed, in an es- sential manner, to bring the nation, without effusion of blood, through the long years of distress which followed. His long and honored life, after having been prolonged beyond the usual period of human existence, at length drew to a close. He had, some years before his death, alarming symptoms in his head ; so often the consequence of long-continued intellectual effort ; but by strict abstemi- ]72 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. ousness aud perfect regularity of life, lie succeeded in sub- duing the dangerous symptoms, and he was enabled to continue and discharge his duties regularly at the Horse Guards till the time of his death, which took place on September 18, 1852, at the advanced age of eighty-three years. He was honored with a public funeral, and buried in St. Paul's, in the most magnificent manner, beside Nel- son. The Queen and all the noblest in the land were there ; a million of persons witnessed the procession, which went from the Hoi'se Guards, by Apsley House, Piccadilly, and the Strand, to St. Paid's, and not a head was covered, and few eyes dry, when the procession appeared in the streets. Wellington was only once married. He left two sons, the eldest of whom succeeded to his titles and es- tates, the fruits of his transcendent abilities aud great pa- triotic services. ^JUNTJ^JJ Br.jii^ jsNn f sr joMM sARrAnr-TMri - L [0] ^ 1 t=T MiT. LOED LYNDHUEST. Lord John Singleton Copley Lyndhurst is the only son of the eminent painter, John Singleton Copley. His par- ents having emigrated from Ireland to America, the future Lord Lyndhurst first saw the light at Boston, in the United States, on the twenty-first of May, 1772. He was about two years old when he was carried over to England by his fixther, and the education which he received in his youth was from a private tutor. At the usual age he was entered a pensioner of Trinity College, Camlaridge, of which he was soon afterwards elected scholar. Li the Mathematr ical Tripos of 1794 Mr. Copley took his degree of B. A., as second wrangler and senior Smith's prizeman, dividiag the highest honors of the University with the late Dr. Butler, head master of Harrow School and dean of Peter- borough. Soon afterwards he was elected a Fellow of his college, and his additional appointment as a " Travelling Bachelor " gave him an opportunity of visiting the United States and the continent of North America. Having entered himself at the Temple on his return to England, he commenced a diligent and laborious coui'se of study, and was called to the bar in 1797. He went for a time the Midland circuit, but it was long before he gained any great eminence or extensive practice. He was first brought into pubhc notice by a report of " The Case of a Double Eeturn for the Borough of Pershore," which he published in 1808. Time and the ordinary changes which made vacancies in his 23rofession gradually enlarged his practice, and gave scojie to the development of his talents 174 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. as an advocate. By degrees he obtained the undoubted leadership of his circuit ; but it was not vmtil the trial of Watson and Thistlewood for high treason, in 1817, in which he was engaged to assist the late Sir Charles Wetherell in defence of the prisoners, that he had an opportimity of dis- playing his abilities on any occasion of great puHic inter- est. Up to this period Mr. Copley's politics were decidedly liberal. He had exhibited, however, so much address and ability, that the Tory party resolved if jiossiljle to press him into then- service. Accordingly, at the close of the year 1817, we find him employed as counsel for the crown in the prosecution of Brand re th and his associates, who were executed for high treason. In 1818 Mr. Copley made his first step towards substantial promotion, being advanced to the post of Chief Justice of the County Palatine of Chester ; and about the same time he entered Parliament as member for the since disfranchised borough of Yarmouth, in the Isle of Wight. In Hilary Term, 1819, he was made a king's sergeant and quitted his circuit; and in the course of the same year succeeded Sir Eobert (afterwards Lord) GifFord as Solicitor-General, when he received the honor of knighthood. In 1820 he took an active part, as solicitor- general, in conducting the prosecution of his former client for the Cato-Street conspiracy, and in the proceedings insti- tuted before the House of Lords against Queen Caroline, which he conducted with so much moderation and skill that he escaped from the general discredit which that prosecution brought on all persons who were concerned in it. In 1824, on the elevation of Sir Eobert GifTord to the Mastership of the Eolls, Sir John Copley became Attorney- General, and at the general election of 1826 he was re- turned as member for Cambridge University, in conjunction with Viscount Palmerston. In the same year the death of Lord Gifford caused a vacancy in the Eolls Court, to which he succeeded. In 1827 the question of Eoman Catholic LORD LYNDHURST. 175 Emancipation was brought forward in the House of Com- mons, during the struggle for jaower between various po- htical jjarties, owing to the iUness of Lord Livei-pool. The bill on this occasion was strenuously opposed by the Mas- ter of the Rolls, though he had advocated it in an earlier stage of his political career, and though he took office a few weeks subsequently under Mr. Canning, when he at- tempted to form a ministry on liberal principles. On that occasion he was offered and accepted the chancellorship, somewhat to tlie surprise of the pubhc, and on the twenty- seventh of April in that year he was raised to the peerage as Baron Lyndhurst of Lyndhurst, county of Hants. Lord Lyndhurst continued to act in harmony with Mr. Canning until the death of that statesman in the following month of August, and even advocated a relaxation of the laws aftectilig Unitarian marriages. He retamed office dur- ing Lord Goderich's ministry. He is supposed, however, to have been in some measure instrumental in breaking up that ill-assorted and inefficient administration ; and, on the Duke of WelUngton forming the succeeding government. Lord Lyndhurst retained his office. In the various vacil- lating though useful concessions of that ministry, he bore a prominent part. In 1828 he supported the repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts, in opposition to Lord Eklon. In the same year, he opposed Roman Catholic emancipa- tion ; but in the following year he, with the rest of the ministry, supported a fidl and ample measure of emancipa- tion, declaring that he "felt no apprehension for the safety of the Church." Lord Lyndhurst's official career was marked by few ora- torical displays. He introduced and carried some useful measures of Law Reform ; but was defeated in his attempt to create an additional chancery judge. On the fifteenth of November, 1830, (the very day on which the decision on Sir Henry Parnell's motion on the Civil List gave the muiistry, of which he was a member, its mortal blow,) he 176 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. introduced a bill for regulating the Regency, in case of the demise of the king during the minority of his successor. This biU was adopted and carried by Lord Grey; and it is a singular proof of the soundness of this bill, of the skiU with which it had been prepared, and of the very full and lucid manner in which its provisions were explained by Lord Lyndhurst, that after this speech not the slightest discussion took place on either the principle or the details of an arrangement, which had never before been settled without prolonged debate and the fiercest strife of parties. Having been bred to the common-law bar, it was some time before Lord Lyndhurst attained a perfect knowledge of that particular branch of law which he was called upon to administer in the Court of Chancery ; and in spite of his vigor of intellect, his fairness of mind, and his natural acuteness, he certainly did not establish for himself so high a judicial character as he has since obtained. Lord Lynd- hurst retired from office with the Duke of Wellington in November, 1830 ; but he had so far conciliated the respect and esteem of the liberal party that he was made by them, shortly after their accession to power. Chief Baron of the Exchequer; and it was in this post that he earned that high reputation as a judge which he has ever since retle reasoners and brilliant declaimers, some of them his superiors in almost every as- signable quality of an orator, he led the House with a recognized superiority to all parliamentary competitors, of which no example had been ofiered since the time of the elder Pitt. At the time when his power out of doors was greatest, he had still a special and pecuhar influence which was confined to the walls of the House of Commons ; and, even in the days of newspaper reporting, it is no incon- siderable proof of tact and skill in a speaker to convey impressions to his immediate hearers which are lost in the written record of his discourse. The circiunstances and personal demeanor of Sir Robert Peel were well calculated to strengthen his influence in the country. The recent elevation of his flxmily by manufac- turing prosperity, while it appealed to the sympathy of the most active and rising section of the political community, seemed to account for the untiring and business-like in- dustry of his haliits, and for his consummate familiarity with the mysteries of trade and of finance. A more real 188 THE COURT OP ENGLAND. support,, however, was added by the possession of a princely fortune, administered in perfect accordance with the tastes and customs of Englishmen, and furnisliing him with the means of moving on an equal level with the most power- ful class of the aristocracy. If some of the body, in anger or in jealousy, confided to their sycophants their incurable distrust and dislike for the blood of the cotton-spinner, he was not the less suiTounded by the homage which rank in that country prudently pays to wealth and substantial power. The ablest living politician, born a millionnaire, was careful to present, in his own person, to his social equals, the type of the wealthy English gentleman of the nine- teenth centm-y. The first who ever took double honors at Oxford, he possessed the classical accomplishments which the traditions of his youth attriljuted to the statesmen of the past generation, perhaps in higher perfection than any of them. It is remarkable that the stage in Sir Robert Peel's life which Lord John Eussell selected for special mention and praise was that in which he formed and trained the new Conservative party, and at last established it in office. The safe working of the Reform Bill, in the opinion of its pro- poser, was mainly secured by the temperance and foresight of its most powerful opponent. In teaching his followers to act in the spirit of the new constitution, he saved them not only from the errors of reaction, but from the opposite dangers of popular irritation and alarm. His ancient ad- versary, long versed in party warfare, and in the anxious responsibilities of political leadership, is, perhaps, at the dis- tance of many years, the most competent jndge of the qualities which were displayed in that ten years' conflict. Lord John's thoughtful recognition of the greatness of his rival's merits in the portion of his career in which they were most formidable to himself, is as creditable to his sagacity of observation as to the generosity which has prompted every allusion he has made to the deceased, and SIR EGBERT PEEL. 189 which has sought, in every becoming manner, to accumu- late honors on his tomb. We have no fear that history will fail to do justice to an honest and generally successful statesman. The emotion which has been occasioned by his death is honorable to the character of the country ; and to himself it constitutes a memorial so noJ^le and befitting a worthy ruler, — " That kings for such a tomb might wisli to die." HEBJmmSnSMmSTMFLEM'aTENTMW&MAEASSmJREmWORnmmYTOCHim- L/ITE GOJ/EHNOIi GENEHJIL OF CANADA ^ THE EARL OF ELGIN. As the noble Earl of Elgin has long filled high stations of honor and responsibility on both sides of the Atlantic, and now stands conspicuous before the world as her Majes- ty's ambassador to China on a mission of great importance to the British government, we take pleasure in embellish- ing tliis work with a beautiful portrait and striking like- ness of this renowned nobleman. In doing this, we hope to please and gratify his many personal friends in the United States, and especially in Canada, over which he was so long the popular Governor-General. We hope our Canada friends will regard this portrait of the Earl of Elgin as a tribute of respect to them, and our desire to gratify their wishes, if this shall meet their approbation. We subjoin a biographical sketch to add interest to the portrait. The Eight Honorable the Earl of Elgin and Kincardine is a descendant of the Scottish royal family of Bruce. Genealogical writers trace the lineage of this noble stock to a period nearly a thousand years back. Among the comparatively recent members of the family, to whom the present representative is indebted for the honors and estates he inherits, there are one or two who may be mentioned. We learn from Sir Bernard Burke's mvaluable "Peerage" that Sir Edward Bruce of Kinloss was appointed a Lord of the Session in 1597, and, in company with the Earl of Mar, was accredited by James VI. to the Court of Elizabeth, to congratulate her Majesty upon the sup- pression of Essex's rebeUion. He then placed the affairs 192 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. of his royal master in such a train with Secretary Cecil as to pave the way for the peaceable succession of the Scot- tish monarch to the English throne. Upon his return, in February, 1602, he was created a Peer of Scotland, as Baron Bruce of Kinloss, in the county of Elgin. Accom- panying King James into England, on his accession, he was sworn a member of the new monarch's Privy Council, and constituted Master of the EoUs for life. The successor to this nobleman was killed in a duel with Sir Edward Sackville, when the family honors passed to Thomas, third Baron, who was advanced to an earldom, June 21, 1633, as Earl of Elgin ; he was further advanced to the dig- nity of an English peerage in 1610, as Baron Bruce of Whorlton, comity of York. The next earl achieved addi- tional dignities by his loyalty to the Charleses, having been created, in March, 1664, Baron Bruce of Skelton, county of York, Viscount Bruce of Ampthill, county of Bedford, and Earl of Aylesljury. In the mean time, one of the junior branches of the family attained a peerage as Baron Bruce of Torrey and Earl of Kincardine, which dignity subsequently became incorporated with that of Elgin. The joint title of Earl of Elgin and Kincardine was assumed by Charles Bruce, ninth Earl of Kincardine, on the death of the fourth Earl of Elgin without sm'viving male issue. The father of the present peer was born in 1777, and achieved considerable distinction in the diplomatic service. He fulfilled the duties of Envoy to Brussels, in 1792, and accompanied the Prussian army during its operations in Germany, in the following year. In 1795 he was ap- pointed Envoy Extraordmary at Berlin, and in 1799 he went to Constantinople as ambassador. While in Turkey, he conceived the idea of sending to England a variety of valuable records of art from Athens. He sought the assist- ance of the government, but without success. But he was not discouraged; engaging six artists at his own expense, he sent them to Athens, in August, 1800, where they THE EARL OF ELGIN. 193 ■secured a lai'ge number of casts, monuments, statues, l)ass- reliefs, medals, and fragments of architecture, of the best age of Athenian art. They were brought over to England, and purchased by the government for the British Museum, where they were deposited in 1816. They are well kno's\Ti by the name of the "Elgin Marbles." The present Earl was born in Park Lane, London, in the month of July, 1811. He was educated at Christ Church, Oxford, where he attained a distinguished position among many scholars who afterwards achieved celebrity in art, literatui'e, and science. He won first-class honors in classics in 1832; Ijecame a Fellow of Merton College and grad- uated Master of Arts in 1835. The fui'ther distinction of D. C. L. was conferred upon him in the year 1856. Before succeeding to the earldom, and at the general election of 1841, the yovmg nobleman offered himself to the citizens of Southampton for election to the House of Commons as their rejiresentative. He Avas duly returned M. P. for that city, and took part in the debates which led to a change of government in the autumnal session of that year ; but his father, the seventh Earl of Elgin and Kincardine, hav- ing died before Parliament assembled for the despatch of business, in 1842, his lordshijD did not again take his seat in the House of Commons. In March, 1842, his loixlship accepted the appointment of Governor-General of Jamaica, and went out immediately afterwards to assume the duties of that important position. He became very popular in the island, and retained the governor-generalship until August, 1846, when he resigned in consequence of having received an ofler from the ad- mmistration of Lord John Russell to succeed Earl Cathcart in the government of Canada. Towards the close of Sep- tember, 1846, Lord Elgin undertook the functions, of Gov- ernor and Captain -General of Canada, vnth a salary of seven thousand pounds per annum. As in Jamaica, his lordship achieved a general popularity among those he 25 194 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. governed. He won the respect of the Canadians not only by his neutral and dignified bearing in reference to various political questions from time to time in fierce agitation, but by his zealous exertions to promote the agricultural, commercial, and manufacturing interests of the province. He carried out the princijiles of administi^ation recom- mended by the late Earl of Durham, by cherishing a rep- resentative system and self-government ; and succeeded in converting into loyal subjects large classes in Canada -which Avere jjreviously disaffected. This diplomatic achievement increased his popularity not only in Canada, liut l)eyond the frontier ; and ovations were oftered to him by the citizens of adjacent States. He oljtained an accession of jjopularity ))y his successful negotiation of the treaty for reciprocity of trade between British America and the United States. During the absence of Lord Elgin in Canada, the home government conferred upon him the dignity of an English peerage, in acknowledgment of his eminent diplomatic ser- vices. On his return to England in 1854, his Lordship was received in a very flattering manner by the govern- ment, and by the public generally. A grand banquet in his honor was given soon after his arrival, which was at- tended by jjeers and members of Parliament of all shades of political opinion. Li the autumn of the same year the Earl of Elgin was nominated to the Loi'd- Lieutenancy of Fifeshire. The unexpected renewal, in 1857, of difficulties on the coast of China afforded another field for the exercise of the noble earl's diplomatic abilities. He was selected by the government of Lord Palmerston to proceed as High Commissioner and Plenipotentiary on a special mission to the Court of Pekin, wdth power to settle the controversy. This embassy he conducted with consummate ability and with complete success. Arriving in the Chinese seas, his lordship found the British forces engaged in an undigni- THE EARL OF ELGIN. 195 fied conflict with Commissioner Yoh, whose pohcy it was to oppose generally a passive, and, in some instances, an active resistance to the representatives of this country. Much had to be done. The position of affairs at the mo- ment of Lord Elgin's arrival was deploraljle. To quote the " Times," " The great plains of Eastern Asia were almost closed against our commerce ; and the vast population which tilled those plains entertained towards us feeUngs of pro- found hostility, and even of horror. A great empire which we could not leave unvisited, because we depend upon it for one of the first necessaries of our artificial life, and be- cause we had long sought to find in it a market for our own industry, had expelled us from its principal port, and liad almost shut us up, blockaded in the single island we possessed upon its borders. Our factories were destroyed and our commercial relations were mterrupted, "We could not show ourselves anywhere upon the coast beyond the distance commanded by our guns ; and our fellow-citizens were miu'dered like wild beasts, if they ventured to land in pursuit of the most peaceful objects of commercial traf- fic. A price was set upon our heads ; and the court-yards round which were ran pressed by the Earl of Bedford, and constrained to fly into France. On this intelligence, Suffolk, dreading an arrest, suddenly left the town with his brothers. Lord Thomas and Lord Leonard Gray, and endeavored to raise the people in the counties of Warwick and Leicester, . where his mterest lay ; Ijut he was so closely pursued by the Earl of Hun- tingdon, at the head of three hundred horse, that he Avas obliged to disperse his followers, and being discovered in his concealment, he was carried prisoner to London. Wiat was at first more successful in his attempt ; and hav- ing published a declaration, at Maidstone in Kent, against the queen's evil councillors, and against the Spanish match, LADY JANE GREY. 235 "without any mention of religion, tlie people began to flock to his standard. The Duke of Norfolk, with Sir Henry Jernegan, was sent against him, at the head of the guards and some other troops, reinforced with five hundred Lon- doners commanded by Bret ; and he came within sight of the rebels at Eochester, where they had fixed their head- quarters. Sir George Harper here pretended to desert from them ; but- having secretly gained Bret, these two malecontents so wrought on the Londoners, that the whole body deserted to Wiat, and declared that they would not contribute to enslave their native country. Norfolk, dreading the contagion of the example, imme- diately retreated with his troops, and took shelter in the city. After this proof of the disposition of the people, es- pecially of the Londoners, who were mostly Protestants, Wiat was encouraged to proceed ; he led his forces to Southwark, where he required of the queen that she should put the Tower into his hands, should deliver four council- lors as hostages, and in order to insure the liberty of the nation, should immediately marry an Englishman. Finding that the bridge was secured against him, and that the city was overawed, he marched up to Kingston, where he passed the river with four thousand men ; and returning toward London, hoped to encourage his partisans who had engaged to declai'e for him. He had im2)rudently wasted so much time at Southwark, and in his march from King- ston, that the critical season, on which all popular commo- tions depend, was entirely lost : though he entered "West- minster without resistance, his foUoAvers, finding that no person of note joined him, insensil)ly fell oQ] and he was at last seized near Temple Bar by Sir Maurice Berkeley. Four hundred persons are said to have suffered for this rebellion ; four hundred more were conducted before the queen with ropes about their necks, and falling on their knees, received a pardon, and were dismissed. Wiat was 236 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. condemned and executed : as it had been repoi-ted that, on his examination, lie had accused the Lady Ehzabetli and the Earl of Devonshire as accomplices, he took care, on the scaffold, before the whole people, fully to acquit them of having any share in his rebellion. The Lady Elizabeth had been, during some time, treated with great harshness by her sister; and many studied in- stances of discouragement and disrespect had been prac- tised against her. She was ordered to take place at court after the Countess of Lennox and the Duchess of Suffolk, as if she were not legitimate ; her friends were discounte- nanced on every occasion ; and while her virtues, which were now become eminent, drew to her the attendance of all the young nobility, and rendered her the favorite of the nation, the malevolence of the queen stiU discovered itself every day by fresh symptoms, and ol^liged the prin- cess to retire into the country. Mary seized the oppor- tunity of this rebellion ; and hoping to involve her sister in some appearance of guilt, sent for her under a strong guard, committed her to the Tower, and ordered her to be strictly examined by the council. But the public declara- tion made by Wiat rendered it impracticable to employ against her any false evidence which might have offei-ed ; and the princess made so good a defence, that the queen found herself imder a necessity of releasing her. In order to send her out of the kingdom, a marriage was offered her with the Duke of Savoy ; and when she de- clined the proposal, she was committed to custody under a strong guard at Wodestoke. The Eai'l of Devonshire, though equally innocent, was confined in Fotheringay Castle. But this rebellion jiroved fatal to the Lady Jane Grey, as well as to her husband : the Duke of Suffolk's guilt was im23uted to her; and though the rebels and malecontents seemed chiefly to rest their hopes on the Lady Elizabeth and the Earl of Devonshire, the queen, incapable of gen- LADY JANE GRFA'. 237 erosity or clemency, determined to remove every person from whom the least danger conld be apprehended. Warn- ing was given the Lady Jane to pre2)are for death ; a doom which she had long expected, and which the inno- cence of her life, as well as the misfortunes to which she had been exposed, rendered nowise unwelcome to her. The queen's zeal, under color of tender mei'cy to the prisoner's soul, induced her to send divines, who harassed her with perpetual disputation ; and even a reprieve for three days was granted her, in hopes that she would be persuaded during that time to pay, by a timely conversion, some regard to her eternal welfare. The Lady Jane had presence of mind, in those melancholy circumstances, not only to defend her religion by all the topics then in use, but also to write a letter to her sister in the Greek lan- guage ; in which, besides sending her a copy of the Scriji- tures in that tongue, she exhorted her to maintain, in every fortune, a hke steady perseverance. On the day of her execution, her husband. Lord Guildford, desired j^er- mission to see her ; but she refused her consent, and in- formed him by a message, that the tenderness of their parting would overcome the fortitude of both, and would too much unl^end their minds from that constancy which their approaching end required of them : their separation, she said, Avoidd be only for a moment ; and they would soon rejoin each other in a scene where their affections would be forever imited, and w'here death, disappointment, and misfortunes, could no longer have access to them, or disturb their eternal felicity. It had been intended to execute the Lady Jane and Lord Guildford together on the same scaffold at Tower Hill ; but the council, dreading the compassion of the peo- ple for their youth, beauty, innocence, and noble birth, changed their orders, and gave directions that she should be beheaded within the verge of the Tower. She saw her husband led to execution ; and having given him from the 238 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. window some token of her remembrance, she waited with tranquillity till her own ajipointed hour should bring her to a like fate. She even saw his headless body carried back in a cart ; and found herself more confirmed by the re- ports which she heard of the constancy of his end, than shaken by so tender and melancholy a spectacle. Sir John Gage, Constable of the Tower, when he led her to execu- tion, desired her to bestow on him some small present, which he might keep as a perpetual memorial of her : she gave him her table-book, on which she had just written three sentences on seeing her husband's dead body, one in Greek, another in Latin, a third in English. The purport of them was, that human justice was against his body, but divine mercy would be favorable to his soul ; that if her fault deserved punishment, her youth at least, and her im- prudence, were worthy of excuse ; and that God and pos- terity, she trusted, would show her favor. On the scaffold she made a speech to the by-standers ; in which the mild- ness of her disposition led her to take the blame wholly on herself, without uttermg one complaint against the severity with which she had been treated. She said, that her offence was not the having laid her hand upon the crown, but the not rejecting it with sufficient constancy ; that she had less erred through ambition than through reverence to her parents, whom she had been taught to respect and obey ; that she willingly received death, as the only satisfaction which she could now make to the injured state ; and though her infringement of the laws had been constrained, she would show, by her voluntary submission to their sentence, that she was desirous to atone for that disobedience into which too much filial piety had betrayed her; that she had justly deserved this pimishment for being made the instrument, though the unwilling instrument, of the ambition of others ; and that the story of her life, she hoped, might at least be usefid, by proving that innocence excuses not LADY JANE GREY. 239 great misdeeds, if they tend anywise to the destruc- tion of the commonwealth. After uttering these words, she caused herself to be disrobed by her women; and with a steady, serene countenance, submitted herself to the ex- ecutioner. QUEEN PHILIPPA AND THE BURGESSES OF CALAIS. The beautiful engraving at the head of this article illus- trates a memorable event in history. The date of the occurrence was 1346-47. The scene, the personages, and the occasion are full of historic interest. The scene was the city of Calais, in France. Of the personages, one was an angry monarch incensed against a city of rebellious subjects ; another was his beautiful and heroic Queen on her bended knees, pleading for the lives of offending men ; the others were six brave and heroic nobles, who had vol- unteered to offer their lives to appease the anger of a wrathful sovereign. The occasion was the surrender of a city whose inhabitants were perishing with famine. The feelings developed on the occasion, and the facts recorded by the pen of the historian, present strongly-marked traits of human character. The engraving, to which artistic skill has imparted such lifelike lineaments, will attract the ad- miring eye of the reader, and give a renewed and fresh impression of the original scene to the mind, from which the facts may have faded. Repeated visits to that famed city have impressed the scene vividly upon our own mind. We gather up from historic pages the main facts, and con- struct a brief outline sketch by way of explanation to the reader as he gazes upon the engraving. At this date, 1346-47, Edward III, King of England, had besieged Calais with a powerfid army, to reestablish his authority over this revolted city. The brave men and inhabitants made a stout resistance, and the siege had been prolonged almost an entire year. Philip, learning the des- 31 242 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. perate condition of the city, attempted to relieve it. He marclied a powerful army of some two hundred thousand men, according to the historian of the times ; but found Edward and his army so strongly intrenched and defended by morasses, that he found it imisracticable to attempt a battle. He contented himself with sending Edward a chal- lenge to personal and single combat. In the mean time, David of Scotland had invaded England, entered Northum- berland Avith an army of fifty thousand men, and carried his ravages and devastations to the gates of Durham. But Queen Philippa, whom Edward, her husband, had left behind to attend to the affairs of England in his absence at the siege of Calais, assembled a little army of about twelve thousand men, which she intrusted to the command of Lord Percy ; ventured to approach him at Nevill's Cross, near that city; and riding through the ranks of her army, exhorted every man to do his duty, and to take re- venge on the invaders. Nor could Queen Philippa be per- suaded to leave the field till the armies were on the jjoint of beginning the battle. The army of the Scots was greatly superior in niunbers, but nevertheless was utterly defeated and routed. They were broken and chased off" the field. Fifteen thousand were slain ; among whom was the Earl Marshal, Edward Keith, and Sir Thomas Charteris, Chancellor of Scotland ; and the king himself was taken prisoner, and many other nolilemen. Queen Philippa having secured her royal jn'isoner in the Tower, crossed the sea at Dover, and was received in the English camjD before Calais with all the triumph due to her rank, her mei'it, and her success. This age w\as the reign of chivalry and gallantry. The court of Edward excelled in these accomplishments. The appearance of this extraordinary woman in the Eng- lish camp before Calais called forth the most obsequious devotion to this heroic Queen. It is these facts and occur- rences, among others, which impart additional interest and charm to the scene presented in the engraving. PHILIPPA AND THE BURGESSES OF CALAIS. 243 It was at this juncture, and soon after the arrival of PhiHppa, that John of Vieune, governor of Calais, saw the necessity of surrendering his fortress, which was reduced to the last extremity l)y famine and the flitigue of the iuhal)- itants. He appeared on the walls, and made a signal to the EngUsh sentinels that he desired a parley. Sir Walter Manny was sent to him by Edward. "Brave Knight," cried the governor, "I have been intrusted by my sovereign with the command of this town. It is almost a year smce you besieged me ; and I have endeavored, as well as those un- der me, to do my duty. But you are acquainted with our present condition. We have no hopes of relief; we are perishing with hunger. I am willing, therefore, to surren- der, and desire, as the sole condition, to insure the lives and liberties of these brave men, who have so long shared with me every danger and fatigue." Mauny replied, that he was well acquainted with the intentions of the king of England ; that that prince was incensed against the townsmen of Calais for their perti- nacious resistance, and for the evils which they had made him and his subjects suffer; that he was determmed to take exemplary vengeance on them ; and would not re- ceive the town on any condition which should confine him in the punishment of these offenders. " Consider," replied Vienne, " that this is not the treatment to which brave men are entitled. If any English knight had been in my situation, your king would have expected the same conduct from him. The inhabitants of Calais have done for their sovereign what merits the esteem of every prince ; much more of so gallant a prince as Edward. But, I inform you that, if we must perish, we shall not perish unrevenged ; and that we are not so reduced but we can sell our lives at a high price to the victors. It is the interest of both sides to prevent these desperate extremities; and I exj^ect that you yourself. Brave Knight, will interpose your good offices with your prince on our behalf" 244 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. Mauny was struck with the justness of these sentiments, and represented to the king the danger of reprisals, if he should give such treatment to the inhabitants of Calais. Edward was at last persuaded to mitigate the rigor of the conditions demanded ; he only insisted that six of the most considerable citizens should be sent to him to be disposed of as he thought proper ; that they should come to his camp carrying the keys of the city in their hands, bare- headed and barefooted, with ropes about their necks; and on these conditions he promised to spare the lives of the remainder. When this intelligence was conveyed to Calais, it struck the inhabitants with new consternation. To sacrifice six of their fellow-citizens to certain destruction for signalizing their valor in a common cause, appeared to them even more severe than that general punishment with which they were before threatened ; and they found themselves incapable of coming to any resolution in so cruel and dis- tressful a situation. At last one of the principal inhab- itants, called Eustace de St. Pierre, whose name deserves to be recorded, stepped forth, and declared himself willing to encounter death for the safety of his friends and com- panions. Another, animated by his example, made a like generous offer ; and a third and a fourth presented them- selves to the same fate, and the whole number was soon completed. These six heroic burgesses appeared before Edward in the guise of malefactors, laid at his feet the keys of their city, and were ordered to be led to execu- tion. It is surprising that so generous a prince should ever have entertained such a barbarous purpose against such men ; and still more that he should seriously persist in the resolution of executing it. But the entreaties of his Queen saved his memory from that infamy. She threw herself on her knees before him, (see the engraving,) and, Avith tears in her eyes, begged the lives of these citizens. Having obtained her request, she led them into her tent, PHILIPPA AND THE BURGESSES OF CALAIS. 215 ordered a repast to be set before them, and, after making tbem a present of money and clothes, dismissed them in safety. Noble woman ! Illustrious Queen ! worthy of undy- ing remembrance on the pages of fame ! We have desired to perj^etuate her name and the glory of her deed of rich l:)euevolence, in our humljle measure, by illustrating it on the plate, and lay the record of it on these pages. We only add that Edward took possession of Calais, and ordered all the inhal^itants to evacuate the city, which he repeo- pled with Enghsh, in place of French, who, the king knew, regarded him as their mortal enemy. vm isyciiiiflNii RICHARD III. AND TIIE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. As this pi'int illustrates a chajiter in English history of sad and tragic interest, a brief explanation may not be un- acceptable. The character of Richard III. is well known to the readers of English history. Ambitious, unprincipled, talented, and treacherous, he aspired to the throne of Eng- land. He planned and plotted, and paused at no sanguin- ary means or measures to accomplish his object. He bathed his hands in blood, and achieved the purpose of his dark and cruel ambition. On the death of Edward IV., the Council of State invested him with the office of Protector of the realm. " Hitherto," says the historian, " Richard had been able to cover, by the most profound dissimulation, his fierce and savage nature. The numerous issue of Edward and the two children of Clarence seemed to be an eternal obstacle to his ambition. But a man who had abandoned all prin- cijjles of honor and humanity was soon carried, by his pre- dominant passion, beyond the reach of fear or precaution. Richard, having so fiir succeeded in his views, no longer hesitated in removing the other olistructions which lay be- tween him and the throne." He first determined on the death of the Earl of Rivers, and a number of other emi- nent jjersous, who had been arrested and held as prisoners ; and he easily obtained the consent of the Duke of Buck- ingham " to this violent and sanguinary measure. Orders were accordingly issued to Sir Richard Ratclifte, — a proper instrument in the hands of this tyrant, — to cut off the heads of the pi-isoners." 248 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. SCENE IN THE PRINT. The historian continues, and here follows the language which the print illustrates: "Richard then assailed the fidel- ity of Buckingham by all the arguments capable of sway- ing a vicious mind, which knew no motive of action but interest and ambition. lie represented, that the execution of persons so nearly related to the king, whom that prince so oijenly professed to love, and whose fate he so much resented, would never pass unpunished ; and all the actors in that scene were bound in prudence to j^i'event the effects of his future vengeance ; that it would be impossible to keep the queen forever at a distance from her son, and equally impossible to prevent her from mstilliug into his tender mind the thoughts of retaliating, by like executions, the sanguinary insults committed on her family; that the only method of obviating these mischiefs was to put the sceptre in the hands of a man of whose friendship the Duke might be assured, and whose years and experience taught him to pay respect to merit, and to the rights of ancient noljility ; and that the same necessity which had carried them so far in resisting the usurpation of these intruders, must justify them in attempting further innovations, and in making, by national consent, a new settlement of the suc- cession. To these reasons he added the offers of great private advantages to the Duke of Buckingham ; and ho easily obtained from him a promise of supporting hun in all his enterprises." The thread of the narrative spins on. We have not room to recount it. In concert with Buckingham, the plot thickens alternately with farce and wnth tragedy, and then the historian thus describes the closing scene of the bloody drama : " This ridiculous farce was soon after followed by a scene truly tragical, — the murder of the two young princes. Eichard gave orders to Sk Robert Brakenbury, EICIIARD III. AND THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 249 Constable of the Tower, to pi;t his nojjhews to death ; 1nit this gentleman, who had sentiments of honor, refused to have any hand in the mfamous office. The tyrant then sent for Sir James Tyrrel, who promised obedience ; and he oi'dered Brakenbury to resign to this gentleman the keys and government of the Tower for one night. Tyrrel choosing three associates, Slater, Dighton, and Forest, came in the night-time to the door of the chamber where the princes were lodged ; and sending in the assassins, he bade them execute their commission, while he himself staid with- out. They found the yoimg princes in bed, and fallen into a profound sleep. After suffocating them with a bolster and pillows, they showed their naked bodies to Tyrrel, who ordered them to be buried at the foot of the stairs, deep in the ground, vmder a heap of stones. These cir- cumstances were all confessed by the actors, in the follow- ing reign ; and they were never j^unished for the crime ; probably because Henry, whose maxims of government were extremely arbitrary, desired to establish it as a prin- ciple, that the commands of the reigning sovereign ought to justify every enormity m those who paid obedience to them. But there is one circumstance not so easy to be accounted for : it is pretended that Kichard, displeased with the indecent manner of burying his nephews, whom he had murdered, gave his chaplain orders to dig up the bodies, and to inter them in consecrated ground ; and as the man died soon after, the place of their burial remained unknown, and the bodies could never be found by any search which Henry could make for them. Yet in the reign of Charles II., when there was occasion to remove some stones, and to dig in the very spot which was men- tioned as the place of their first interment, the bones of two persons were there found, which by their size exactly corresponded to the age of Edward and his brother ; they were concluded with certainty to be the remains of those princes, and were interred vmder a marble monument, by 250 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. orders of King Charles. Perhaps Eichard's chaplain had died before he found an opportunity of executing his mas- ter's commands ; and the bodies being supposed to be al- ready removed, a diligent search was not made for them by Henry in the place where they had been buried." |UJj I fr= en CROMWELL DISSOLVING THE LONG PAELIAMENT. (SEE THE PRINT.) Oliver Cromwell was the son of Robert Cromwell, M. P. ill the Parliament of 1593, and his wife Elizabeth, daugh- ter of Sir Richard Stewart. He was born at Huntingdon, April 25, 1599, and named after his uncle and godfather Sir OUver Cromwell. He entered Sidney College, Cam- bridge, April 23, 1616, where he remained a little more than a year. On the death of his father, June, 1617, he was removed from the University l)y his mother, who wished him to enter Lincoln's Inn, that he might follow the profession of the law. Having completed his twenty- first year, he was mari'ied, August 22, 1620, to Elizabeth, daughter of Sir James Bourchier. In 1629, the House of Commons having resolved itself into a grand committee on religion, Cromwell made a speech calling attention to the " preaching of flat popery ; " but, befoi-e steps could be taken to prevent it, the king dissolved the Parliament. Disgusted with the proceedings of the court, he had deter- mined in 1637 to emigrate to America ; and, having taken a passage to New England in a ship then lymg in the Thames, embarked with his whole family. The vessel was, however, detained by a ^proclamation forbidding such em- barkations. He returned therefore to Ely. The activity and vigor of his mmd soon became generall}^ known, and in such esteem was he held that he was elected repre- sentative of the town of Cambridge, both to the sliort- lived Parhament of 1640, and afterwards to the Long 252 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. Parliament, by which it was sjicedily followed. Cromwell was now in the middle age of life. His health wa,s strong, and his judgment matured. Oliver Cromwell was soon a marked man in the great council of the nation ; and he was one of the very first to contribute in pocket and jier- son to the active resistance which soon was raised to the royal measures. The tyranny and maladministration of the weak and ol)stinate Charles had become the subject, in 1G41, of a strong remonstrance from his Pai'liament, which at once insured their rupture with the king. Cromwell, now associated in the councils .with Hampden, Pym, and the rest of the popular leaders, strenuously supported this remonstrance ; and in 1642, when the civil war com- menced, he eagerly i-aised a troop of horse, under the authority of the Parliament, with which he immediately took the field in their cause; and "Cromwell's Ironsides" were the first of the j^tii'liamentary horse who successfully withstood Rupert's cavalry. In numerous skirmishes in Avhich he was engaged, he only once met with a serious misadventure. At the battle of Wincely, his horse being shot under him, on attempting to rise he was knocked down by a cavalier, and with difficulty rescued by liis own party. At the battle of Marston Mooi', at Stamford, and at the second battle of Newbury, Cromwell was distinguished. At tlie battle of Naseby, June 16, 1645, Cromwell commanded the right wing, and Ireton, his son-in-law, the left. Crom- ^vv\\ and Fairfox, taking advantage of Prince Rupert's te- merity, totally dispersed the king's infantry, and took his artillery and ammimition. At the storming of Bristol, Cromwell took the principal Y)art. On his return to Lon- don, he received the thanks of the Parliament, and he was rewarded by a grant of twenty-five hundred pounds a year. After various changes, conflicts, battles, and victories, the king was left in custodj^ in the Isle of Wight, and Crom- well again took the field against the Scots, and was again CROMWELL DISSOLVING THE LONG PARLIAMENT. 253 victorious. In January, 1049, the king's trial commenced. Cromwell was appointed a member of the covu't, and at- tended every meeting of it but one ; and when the sen- tence was passed, he was the third who signed the warrant for the execution. He was now beset with entreaties to spare the king's life, but his answer to all was an echo of that to his cousin. Colonel Cromwell : " Go to rest, and expect no answer to carry to the prince, for the council of officers have been seeking God, as I also have done, and it is resolved by them all that the king must die." The execution followed accordingly. The battle of Wor- cester placed Cromwell avowedly at the head of public affairs. He had made up his mind that there must be government by a single person, whatever was the title he took. At length, in 1653, perceiving that the remnant of the Parliament became daily more jealous of his power, he determined to put an end to their authority. He first sent them a remonstrance. His next movement was to enter the House, April 20, 1653. In the language of the historian, Hume, we have it as follows : — " In the council of officers it was presently voted to frame a remonstrance to the Parliament. After complain- ing of the arrears due to the army, they there desired the Parliament to reflect how many years they had sitten, and what professions they had formei-ly made of their inten- tions to new-model the representative, and establish suc- cessive parliaments, who might bear the burden of national affairs, from which they themselves would gladly, after so much danger and fatigue, be at last relieved. They con- fessed that the Parliament had achieved great enterprises, and had surmovmted mighty difficulties ; yet was it an injury, they said, to the rest of the nation to be excluded from bearing any part in the service of their country. It was now full time for them to give place to others; and they therefore desired them, after settling a council who might execute the laws during the interval, to sum- 254 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. mon a new Parliament, and establish that free and equal government, -which they had so long promised to the people. " The Parliament took this remonstrance in ill part, and made a sharp reply to the council of officers. The officers insisted on their advice ; and by mutual altercation and opposition the breach became still wider between the army and the Commonwealth. Cromwell, finding matters ripe for his purpose, called a council of officers (twentieth April), in order to come to a determmation with regard to the public settlement. As he had here many friends, so had he also some opponents. Harrison having assured the council that the general sought only to pave the way for the government of Jesus and his saints. Major Streator briskly replied, that Jesus ought then to come quickly : for if he delayed it till after Christmas, he woidd come too late ; he would find his place occupied. While the officers were in debate, Colonel Ingoldsby informed Cromwell, that the Parliament was sitting, and had come to a resolution not to dissolve themselves, but to fill up the House by new elections; and was at that very time engaged in dehbera- tions with regard to this expedient. Ci-omwell m a rage immediately hastened to the house, and carried a body of three hundred soldier's alono; with him. Some of them he jjlaced at the door, some in the lobby, some on the stairs. He first addressed himseh" to his friend St. John, and told him that he had come with a purpose of doing what grieved him to the very soul, and what he had earnestly with tears besought the Lord not to impose upon him : but there was a necessity, in order to the glory of God and good of the nation. He sat down for some time, and heard the debate. He beckoned Harrison, and told him that he now judged the Parliament ripe for a dissolution. ' Sir,' said Harrison, ' the work is very great and danger- ous ; I desire you seriously to consider, before you engage in it.' ' You say well,' replied the general ; and thereupon CROMWELL DISSOLVING THE LONG PARLIAiMENT. 255 sat still about a quarter of an hour. When the question was ready to be put, he said again to Harrison, ' This is the time : I must do it.' And suddenly starting up, he loaded the Parliament with the vilest reproaches, for their tyranny, ambition, oppression, and robbery of the public. Then stamping with his foot, which was a signal for the soldiers to enter, ' For shame ! ' said he to the Parliament, ' get you gone ! give place to honester men ; to those who will more faithfully discharge their trust. You are no longer a Parliament, — I tell you, you are no longer a Par- liament. The Lord has done with you ; he has chosen other instruments for carrying on his work.' Sir Harry Vane exclaiming against this proceeding, he cried with a loud voice, ' Sir Harry Vane, Sir Harry Vane ! the Lord deliver me from Sir Harry Vane ! ' He commauded a sol- dier to seize the mace. ' What shall we do with this bauble ? here, take it away. It is you,' said he, address- ing hunself to the House, ' that have forced me upon this. I have sought the Lord night and day, that he would rather slay me than put me upon this work.' Having commanded the soldiers to clear the hall, he himself went out the last, and ordering the doors to be locked, departed to his lodgings in Whitehall. " In this manner, which so well denotes his genuine character, did Cromwell, without the least opposition, or even munnur, annihilate that famous assembly which had filled all Europe with the renown of its actions, and with astonishment at its crimes, and whose commencement was not more ardently desired by the people than was its final dissolution. All parties now rea2)ed successively the melan- choly pleasure of seeing the injuries which they had suf- fered revenged on their enemies; and that too by the same arts which had been practised against them. The king had, in some instances, stretched his prerogative be- yond its just bounds ; and, aided by the church, had well- nigh put an end to all the liberties and privileges of the 256 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. nation. By recent, as well as all ancient, example, it was become evident that illegal violence, with whatever pre- tences it may be covered, and whatever object it may pursue, must inevitably end at last in the arbitrary and despotic government of a single person." :A N O E [fi! " . THE COURT OF RUSSIA. The Court of this colossal empire dates back a thousand years. The monarchy was founded by Prince Rurilv, in the year 862. The Court of Russia began with him. The con- tinuous and particular history of that court for a long period is not well known. In 980 to 1015 Vladimir in- troduced Christianity, and founded cities and schools. From that period down to 1237, when the country was overrun by the Tartars, Russia, with few exceptions, was the the- atre of civil war. In the year 1328, the court and the seat of government were removed to Moscow. In the year 1481, the Tartars were finally expelled from the country. In the year 1613, the house of Romanoft^ from which the pi'esent Emperor of Russia is descended, was raised to the throne. Under the direction of this reigning family, the power and influence of Russia became greatly extended and established. At length, in 1696, Peter the Great as- cended the throne, and the destinies of Russia and of the Northern world were immediately changed. This prince, who has, it is said, a l^etter claim than any other to be called " Great " and " the Father of his country," gave to the arms of Russia a decided preponderance in the North of Europe. He built a fleet, and conquered large provinces on the Baltic. He laid the foundations of the noble city which bears his name, and introduced the arts and litera- ture among his people, and advanced the civilization of his empire. Under Catharine II., an emj^ress of extraordinary talent, Russia made vast acquisitions of territory in Poland and on the Black Sea, where she has now the same as- 33 258 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. cendancy as in the Baltic. A long line of monarchs have ascended the throne of Russia and held imperial sway over her vast dominions for longer or shorter periods, amid the troul)lous times and exciting scenes of her eventful history. In more modern years the history of the Court of Russia and her sovereigns, since the accession of Alexander I., are well known to the reading world. Historic annals record the life and times of Alexander I. and of Napoleon I., their wars, their battles, their friendships, and the terminations of their eventful careers. This brief and imperfect outline- sketch of the Court of Russia will suffice to introduce the portraits of her imperial sovereigns which are to be found in this volume and the several records of their personal history. THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER I. This illustrious personage acted a conspicuous part in the great historic scenes and events of the first quarter of the present century. The portrait from which this has been engraved was taken from life at St. Petersburg and is believed to be accurate. The Emperor Alexander was bora December 23, 1777. He was the son of the Emperor Paul and of Maria, daughter of Prince Eugene of Wiirtemberg. From his infancy he was distinguished for a gentle and aflection- ate disposition, and a superior capacity. His education was directed not by his parents, but by his grandmother, the reigning empress, Catharine II., who lived until he had attained his nineteenth year. Under her superintendence he was carefully instructed by La Harpe and other able tutors in the different branches of a liberal education, and in the accomplishments of a gentleman. Catharine was succeeded, in 179G, by her son Paul, whose mad reign was put an end to by his assassination THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER I. 259 on the twenty-fourth of March, 1801. No doubt can be entertained that Alexander, as well as his younger brother Constantine, was privy to the preparations which were made for the dethronement of his father, which had in- deed become almost a measure of necessity ; but all the facts tend to make it highly improbable that he contem- plated the fiital issue of the attempt. The immediate se- quel of this ti'agedy was a slight domestic dispute, occar sioned by a claim being advanced by the widow of the murdered emperor to the vacant throne, who had u