Louis Philippe

Peril of the Duchess Helen.

And now let us return to the Princess Helen, who was left with her two children in one of the apartments of the palace. Immediately upon the withdrawal of the king, the troops in the Carrousel, who were then retreating into the court-yard of the Tuileries, retired through the palace into the garden. The princess, a very heroic woman, had entirely recovered her self-possession, and awaited her doom with the serenity of a martyr. As the shouting mob rushed into the Carrousel, and the windows of the palace were rattling from the explosions of the artillery, M. Dupin, president of the Chamber of Deputies, entered the room, and, much agitated with both fear and hope, said,

"Madame, I have come to tell you that perhaps the rôle of Maria Theresa is reserved for you."

"Lead the way," replied the heroic woman; "my life belongs to France and to my children."

"There is not a moment to lose," M. Dupin rejoined. "Let us go instantly to the Chamber of Deputies."

As he was speaking these words, the Duke de Nemours returned. Peril was indeed imminent. The mob was already surging in at the court of the Tuileries, and thundering against the gates of the palace.

She retires from the Tuileries.

The princess and her few companions immediately set out on foot, to pass through the garden of the Tuileries, the Place de la Concorde, and to cross the river, to obtain the protection of the Chamber of Deputies. Scarcely had they emerged from the portals into the garden ere the roaring mob burst from the court-yard into the palace, and surged through the saloons with the destruction of consuming flame. Shouts seemed to burst from all lips, "Down with the Throne!" "Long live the Republic!" Every vestige of royalty was torn to shreds. The rich drapery which canopied the throne was rent into scarfs, or formed into cockades, with which the mob decorated their persons.

The duchess in the Chamber of Deputies.

With hurried steps and anxious hearts the royal party pressed on through the throng which choked all the avenues to the palace. They seem to have been partially recognized, for a noisy crowd followed their footsteps. The princess led her eldest son, the Count de Paris, by the hand. The youngest, the Duke de Chartres, was carried in the arms of an aid-de-camp. M. Dupin walked upon one side of the princess, and the Duke de Nemours upon the other. Safely they crossed the bridge and entered the hotel of the Deputies. All was agitation and confusion there. M. Dupin repaired to the hall of session, and, ascending the tribune, announced that the king had abdicated in favor of his grandson. In a brief, earnest speech he urged the claims of the Count de Paris as king, under the regency of the Duchess of Orleans, his mother. This speech created a momentary enthusiasm. By acclamation it was voted that the resignation of the king should be accepted, and that the Count de Paris should be recognized as lawful sovereign, under the regency of the duchess. Just then Lamartine came in.

Lamartine, notwithstanding the brilliance of his talents and the purity of his character, was by no means insensible to flattery, or to the suggestions of ambition. It is said that a group of Republicans had but a moment before met him at the entrance of the building, with the assurance that a Republic was inevitable, and that all the Republicans were looking to him as their leader and future President. These assurances may not have swayed his judgment. But many who had supposed that his strong predelictions were for royalty were not a little surprised when he ascended the tribune, and said,

Speech of Lamartine.

"There is but one way to save the people from the danger which a revolution, in our present social state, threatens instantly to introduce, and that is to trust ourselves to the force of the people themselves – to their reason, their interests, their aims. It is a republic which we require. Yes, it is a Republic which alone can save us from anarchy, civil war, foreign war, spoliation, the scaffold, destruction of property, the overthrow of society, the invasion of foreigners. The remedy is heroic. I know it. But there are occasions, such as those in which we live, when the only safe policy is that which is grand and audacious as the crisis itself."

Scene in the Chamber.

As Lamartine left the tribune, M. Thiers entered, flushed with excitement. All eyes were anxiously fixed upon him. Taking his place in the tribune, he simply remarked, "The tide is rising," at the same time, with dramatic gesture, lifting his hat above his head. As he again disappeared in the crowd, there was a general increase of alarm. It was manifest to all that affairs were now sweeping along in a swollen current which human sagacity could but feebly control. The roar of the throng surging around the hall filled the air. The strongest minds were appalled.

Entrance of the duchess.

Just then the folding-doors of the Chamber were thrown open, and the Duchess of Orleans, leading the Count de Paris by one hand and the Duke de Chartres by the other, was ushered in. Lamartine, an eye-witness, gives the following account of the scene: "A respectful silence immediately ensued. The Deputies, in deep anxiety, crowded around the august princess, and the strangers in the gallery leaned over, hoping to catch some words which might fall from her lips. She was dressed in mourning. Her veil, partially raised, disclosed a countenance the emotion and melancholy of which enhanced the charms of youth and beauty. Her pale cheeks were marked by the tears of the widow, the anxieties of the mother. No man could look on her countenance without being moved. Every feeling of resentment against the monarchy faded away before the spectacle. The blue eyes of the princess wandered over the hall as if to implore aid, and were, for a moment, dazzled. Her slight and fragile form inclined before the sound of the applause with which she was greeted. A slight blush, the mark of the revival of hope in her bosom, tinged her cheeks. The smile of gratitude was already on her lips. She felt that she was surrounded by friends. In her right hand she held the young king, in her left the Duke of Chartres – children to whom their own catastrophe was a spectacle. A white collar was turned down the neck of each, on his dark dress – living portraits of Vandyck, as if they had stepped out of the canvas, of the children of Charles I."

The rush of the mob.

The duchess had but just entered when the doors were burst open by the pressure of the crowd, and the mob rushed in. They were coarse, brutal men, armed with every conceivable weapon, and immediately they inundated the hall. Clamorously they demanded the rejection of the throne, which had, thus far, ever trampled upon their rights, and for the establishment of a republic, from which alone they hoped for redress. A scene of indescribable confusion ensued, cries rising upon all sides. The duchess endeavored to speak. Her tremulous feminine voice was heard exclaiming, "I have come with all I hold dear in the world," but the remainder of her words were drowned in the universal clamor.

The sympathies of Lamartine, notwithstanding his republican speech, were deeply moved by the presence of the princess. Taking advantage of a slight lull in the storm, when his voice could be heard, he said, "Mr. President, I demand that the sitting should be suspended, from the double motive, on the one hand, of respect for the national representation; on the other, for the august princess whom we see before us."

But Marshal Oudinot, the Duke de Nemours, and other friends who surrounded the duchess, deemed it essential to the success of her cause that she should not withdraw from the Chamber. The human heart is often swayed by influences stronger than argument. A young and beautiful woman, heroically facing the most terrible dangers in advocacy of the claims of her child to the throne, appealed more persuasively to many chivalric hearts than the most cogent logic. Every one in the room trembled for the life of the princess and her children. They were surrounded by a mob of scowling, ferocious men, who held possession of the hall. The blow of a club, the thrust of a dagger, might at any instant be given, and there was no possibility of protection.

Escape of the duchess and her children.

The friends who endeavored to surround the princess and the children with the shield of their bodies gradually crowded them along to a higher portion of the house near the door, through which they could more easily effect their escape in case of necessity. The confusion and clamor which now filled the hall can scarcely be imagined. Scarcely the semblance of a deliberative assembly was maintained. The triumphant mob was holding there its wildest orgies. In vain Lamartine, Ledru Rollin, and others endeavored to make themselves heard, calling for a provisional government. The howling of the mob drowned every voice.

The members, in confusion, rose from their seats. The president fled from his chair. Some ferocious wretches, upon whose countenances brutality was imprinted, clambered over the benches and leveled their muskets at the head of the princess. Her friends, terror-stricken, hurried her and her children through the door. The moment she disappeared there was a general cry for a provisional government, as the first step towards the establishment of a Republic. This call was made, not only by the mob, but by that large portion of the Deputies who thought that a Republic alone could save France from anarchy, and restore to the people their long withheld rights.

The Provisional Government.

Lamartine succeeded in obtaining the tribune. For a moment he was popular, the representative of Republicanism. There was a brief lull in the tempest as the throng listened to what he had to say. The following list of names of those proposed to constitute the Provisional Government was then read off: Lamartine, Marie, Ledru Rollin, Cremieux, Dupont de l'Eure, Arago, and Garnier Pagés. Some of these names were received with cheers, others with hisses. It was impossible to take any formal vote. The voices of the Deputies were lost in the clamor of the mob. Still, the general assent seemed to be in their favor. These were all good men. They were deemed moderate Republicans.

The moderate and the radical Republicans.

But there was another portion of the Republican party, the radical, so called, who would by no means be satisfied with such an administration as these calm, deliberate men would inaugurate, with their lingering adhesion to the rights of wealth and the dignity of rank. There might have been possibly a thousand people crowded into the hall of the Chamber of Deputies, who thus, self-appointed, were forming a government for a nation numbering thirty-five millions.

The more radical party, perhaps equal in number, and no less tumultuous, composed also of those of the stoutest muscle and most determined will, who could elbow their way through the throng, gathered in the great hall of the Hôtel de Ville, proclaimed an antagonistic provisional government, more in accordance with their views. Their list consisted of Marrast, Flocon, Louis Blanc, and Albert. The danger of a conflict, leading to hopeless anarchy, was imminent, as the partisans of each should rally around its own choice.

The first Provisional Government, accordingly, immediately repaired to the Hôtel de Ville, followed by a tumultuous crowd which no man could number. The leaders of the two parties soon met upon the stairs of the Hôtel de Ville, and a violent altercation ensued, which came near to blows. The Place de Grève, in front of the hotel, was like a storm-tossed ocean of agitated men, "a living sea, madly heaving and tossing about beneath the tempest of revolution."

A compromise.

Both parties were terrified by the menacing aspect of affairs. A compromise was hurriedly agreed to by adding to the six chosen at the Chamber of Deputies six more, chosen from the party at the Hôtel de Ville. Lamartine, from the head of the stairs, read off the list to the masses surging below.

A surging crowd.

In the mean time, the Duchess of Orleans, having escaped from the Chamber of Deputies, and surrounded by friends who were ready to sacrifice their own lives in her defense, was with difficulty rescued from the crowd. Prominent among her protectors was M. de Morny. As the duchess was veiled, her little party was soon lost in the heaving masses, and unrecognized. The terrors of the hour caused fugitives to be struggling wildly through the throng in all directions. The pressure was so great and so resistless that the duchess was torn from the side of her brother, the Duke de Nemours, and from both of her children. A moment after the separation, as the mother, frantic with terror, was groping around in search of her sons, a brutal wretch of gigantic stature recognized the Count de Paris, and, seizing him by the throat, endeavored to strangle him. One of the National Guard who chanced to be near rescued the child, and succeeded in placing him in the hands of his mother. But the younger child, the Duke de Chartres, could nowhere be found. In vain the distracted mother called aloud for her child. The close-packed throng swayed to and fro, and her feeble voice was unheard in the deafening clamor. She was swept along by the flow of a torrent which it was impossible to resist. With exceeding difficulty her friends succeeded in forcing her into a house. She ran to the window of one of the chambers to look down upon the scene of tumult for her lost child. Soon, to her inexpressible joy, she saw him in the arms of a friend. The poor child was faint, and almost lifeless. He had been thrown down and trampled under the feet of the crowd. The day was now far spent. As soon as it was dark, the royal party, all in disguise, engaged a hack, and, passing through the Champs Elysées, escaped from the city. After a short journey of many perils and great mental suffering, they were reunited with the exiled king and court at Claremont.

Awful scenes in Paris.

The night succeeding these scenes in Paris was appalling beyond imagination. There was no recognized law in the metropolis. A population of a million and a half of people was in the streets. The timid and the virtuous were terror-stricken. The drunken, the degraded, the ferocious held the city at their mercy. Radical as was the party which had assembled at the Hôtel de Ville, there was another party, composed of the dregs of the Parisian populace, more radical still. This party was ripe for plunder and for unlimited license in every outrage. About midnight, in a desperately armed and howling band, they made an attack upon the Provisional Government at the Hôtel de Ville; after a severe struggle, the assailants were repelled. The next morning the Moniteur announced to the citizens of Paris, and the telegraph announced to Europe, that the throne of Louis Philippe had crumbled, and that a Republic was established in France.

We must not forget, in our stern condemnation of the brutality, the ignorance, the ferocity of the mob, that it was composed of men – husbands, brothers, fathers – many of whom had been defrauded of their rights and maddened by oppression. If governments will sow the wind by trampling upon the rights of the people, they must expect to reap the whirlwind when their exasperated victims rise in the blindness of their rage.

Death of Louis Philippe.

Louis Philippe did not long survive his fall. He died at Claremont, in England, on the 26th of August, 1850. The reader, who may be interested to inform himself of the changes in France which followed this Revolution, will find them minutely detailed in the "Life of Napoleon III."

THE END

1

See Abbott's History of Louis XIV, p. 223.

2

Life and Times of Louis Philippe, King of the French, by Rev. G. N. Wright.

3

Vie Anecdotique de Louis Philippe. Par MM. A. Laugier et Carpentier, p. 108.

4

Vie Anecdotique de Louis Philippe, p. 120.

5

A. Laugier et Carpentier, p. 132.

6

Life and Times of Louis Philippe, by Rev. G. N. Wright, p. 21.

7

There have been efforts to prove that the dauphin was removed from prison, and another child was substituted in his place, who died and was buried. Several claimants have risen, professing to be the dauphin. But there is no evidence upon this point sufficient to change the general verdict of history.

8

Life and Times of Louis Philippe, p. 22.

9

"I have another great puzzle come to me. The Queen of Sicily has sent her son, Prince Leopold, to Gibraltar to propose himself to be regent of Spain. It appears to me to be extreme want of knowledge of the state of Spain. The Duke of Orleans came down with him, and on the 13th of August I discussed the subject fully with his highness, much to his satisfaction, and he went off to England with a light heart." —Collingwood's Correspondence.

10

"Besides, possibly England did not think, and the exiled Bourbons of the elder branch would naturally have concurred in the sentiment, that it would be prudent or politic to send a gallant prince of Orleans to lead the Spaniards to victory, a prince who was the great-grandson of that Philippe of Orleans who, by the lustre of his talents and the many attractions of his character, became the idol of the army and the nation." —Life and Times of Louis Philippe, by Rev. G. N. Wright.

11

Wright's Shores and Islands of the Mediterranean.

12

France in 1840. By an American – [General Cass].

13

Life and Times of Louis Philippe.

14

During much of his exile, Louis XVIII. had occupied the chateau of Hartwell, in the county of Buckingham, about fifty miles from London.

15

Life and Times of Louis Philippe.

16

General Cass.

17

Abbott's Life of Napoleon, vol. ii., p. 465.

18

Life and Times of Louis Philippe, by Rev. G. N. Wright.

19

"England entailed a lasting disgrace upon her name by not prohibiting the execution of a vengeance so long delayed; by not claiming as her victims those brave men whom the glory of her arms had unfortunately placed at the mercy of the Bourbons, and by allowing the French king to put those fine fellows to death on the scaffold, whose military prowess was honorable to France." —Life and Times of Louis Philippe.

20

Autobiography of Madame de Genlis.

21

"The ministers took their places in silence around the fatal table. Charles X. had the dauphin on his right and M. de Polignac on his left. He questioned each of his servants, one after another, and when he came to M. d'Hausrez, that minister repeated his observations of the preceding day. 'Do you refuse?' inquired Charles X. 'Sire,' replied the minister, 'may I be allowed to address one question to the king? Is your majesty resolved on proceeding, should your ministers draw back?' 'Yes,' said Charles, firmly. The minister of marine took the pen and signed.

"When all the signatures were affixed, there was a solemn and awful pause. An expression of high-wrought energy, mingled with uneasiness, sat on the faces of the ministers. M. de Polignac's alone wore a look of triumph. Charles X. walked up and down the room with perfect composure." —France under Louis Philippe, by Louis Blanc, p. 107.

Les Dix Ans de Louis Philippe, par Louis Blanc.

22

Autobiography of Madame de Genlis.

23

"The Duc de Raguse found himself invested with a real military dictatorship. His situation was a cruel one. If he took part with the insurgents, he betrayed a king who relied upon him. If he put so many mothers in mourning, without even believing in the justice of his cause, he committed an atrocity. If he stood aloof, he was dishonored. Of these three lines of conduct he adopted that which was most fatal to the people." – Louis Blanc.

24

"The History of Ten Years," by Louis Blanc, vol. i, p. 187.

25

Louis Blanc, i., 359.

26

Moniteur, August 3, 1830.

27

History of the Restoration, vol. iv., p. 489.

28

Alison, vol. vi., p. 463.

29

Louis Blanc, iii., 296.

30

Alison, vol. vii., p. 77.

31

Les Dix Ans de Louis Philippe, vol. iii., p. 318.

32

Œuvres de Napoleon III., t. i., p. 393.

33

History of Europe from the Fall of Napoleon to the Accession of Louis Napoleon, by Sir Archibald Alison, vol. iii., p. 82.

34

Louis Blanc.

35

By the laws of France the dauphin attained his majority at the age of thirteen.

36

In the British House of Lords the Crown will often carry a measure by a similar action. By the Constitution of the Empire in France, under Napoleon III., this was rendered impossible.

37

Abbott's Life of Napoleon III., p. 87.

38

Alison.

39

Mémoires de la Duchesse de Berri, pp. 87-90.

40

"The History of Ten Years," by Louis Blanc, vol ii., p. 453.

41

Vie de Louis Napoleon, t. i., p. 22.

42

Alison, vol. iii., p. 206.

43

Alison, vol. viii., p. 193.