CHAPTER XXV.

I have but just returned from the Rue d'Anjou, and now that I find myself once more within the sanctuary of my home, I am surprised at my own courage in having ventured to pa.s.s through the streets, and _alone_, too, at such a moment. I do not think I should have risked it, had I not known how much my excellent friend Madame C---- stood in need of consolation, after having seen her grandchildren and great grandchildren driven from their late peaceful and happy dwelling, uncertain when she may behold them again, as they have determined on not forsaking the royal family.

I had ascended nearly to the top of the barricade at the entrance to the Rue Verte when a head and shoulders rose from the opposite side so suddenly as to alarm me not a little. My trepidation was infinitely increased when I discovered that the individual to whom the said head and shoulders appertained, was in a state of extreme intoxication, and when with rolling eyes, flushed checks, and thick articulation he addressed me with a familiarity, yet good nature, that I would most willingly have dispensed with.

"Give me your hand, _ma belle_, fear nothing, I am one of the _bons enfans_ of the revolution, take my arm and no one will molest you. We, _les braves des braves_, wage no war against women; _au contraire_, we love the pretty creatures. Here take my hand, and I will a.s.sist you over the barricades."

Suiting his action to the word, he extended his hand towards me, and reaching forward lost his equilibrium and rolled over; at which moment, the proprietor of a wine shop at the corner of the Rue Verte came to my a.s.sistance, and leading me through his house, opened a door on the other side of the barricade, through which I hastily pa.s.sed, he civilly offering to open the same door when I returned if I would knock at it.

And here, _en pa.s.sant_, let me render justice to the politeness I have invariably experienced from all cla.s.ses of men, and on all occasions, in France--a politeness so general that I should be ungrateful if I did not record it.

When I pa.s.sed the barrack in the Rue Verte, it was in the possession of the people, who had seized it by the right of conquest an hour or two previously. Proud of the achievement, they were looking out of the windows, shouting, singing the Ma.r.s.eillaise, embracing each other, and proclaiming that they were _les bons enfans_, etc. They paid me many homely compliments as I pa.s.sed, but not a single indelicate allusion escaped their lips; and I hurried on, not meeting a human being until I entered the courtyard of Madame C----'s hotel, into which I found considerable difficulty to penetrate, owing to the extreme caution of her Swiss porter who seemed to think it very dangerous to open even the little door to admit me.

I found dear, good Madame C---- depressed and agitated. I rejoiced to find that she was ignorant of the scene that took place between her grand-daughter and the populace, for a knowledge of it would have served to increase her alarm. She was surrounded by the usual circle of _habitues_ who endeavoured in vain to calm her fears, but my presence re-a.s.sured her a little, and Count Valeski, who came in soon after, succeeded in mitigating her terror. Having witnessed the horrors of the former revolution, it is no wonder she should tremble at the thoughts of another, and she looks on my calmness and courage as little short of heroism.

I remained a couple of hours with her, and having resisted all her persuasions to induce me to stay all night, I left the Rue d'Anjou, and had reached the Rue Verte, when I heard the report of guns, and saw a party of soldiers attacking the barracks, out of the windows of which the people, who had taken forcible possession of it some hours before, were firing on their a.s.sailants. I retraced my steps as hastily as possible, fear lending swiftness to my feet, and returned to the Rue de Matignon by the Faubourg du Roule and the Rue St.-Honore. Our trusty porter, having heard the shots, and knowing they proceeded from the _quartier_ through which my route lay, was much alarmed for my safety, and evinced great pleasure when he saw me safe again within the portal under his charge, while I congratulated myself on having once more proved my friendship to my dear old friend, by a personal exertion entailing no more disagreeable consequences than a temporary alarm.

---- and ---- have just been here: they say that it is reported that a negotiation has been opened between the king and the provisional government, and that even still a reconciliation may be effected. I do not believe it, though I wish it were true. The blood that has flowed during the last days has, I fear, created an impa.s.sable gulf between the sovereign and the people. Each party has made discoveries fatal to the good understanding necessary to subsist between both: one having proved his want of power to carry his wishes into effect, and the other having but too well evinced its power of resistance.

While the negotiations are pending, the royal cause becomes every hour more hopeless. Success has rendered the people less tractable; and the concession implied by the king's holding out terms to them, has less chance of producing a favourable result.

The populace attempted to force an entrance into the _Hotel des Pages_, and, having fired through the iron gate, killed a fine youth, the son of General Jacquinot, one of the royal pages, and a protege of the Duc de Guiche. It was of this general that the Emperor Napoleon said--"_Celui-la est brave tous les jours, en mon absence comme sous mes yeux_." It is not more than ten days ago, since I met the mother and sister of this promising youth with him at the d.u.c.h.esse de Guiche's. They came to return thanks to her and the duc for the generous protection they had afforded to him; they were elate with joy at his promotion, looked forward to his further advancement, and now--.

My heart bleeds for the poor mother who doted on her son!

Count Alfred d'Orsay, having heard that he had no relations in Paris at this moment, has gone to arrange for the interment of this poor youth, who yet scarcely more than a child, has lost his life at but a short distance from the threshold of that door where he had been so often received with kindness. How glad I am that the d.u.c.h.esse was spared the horror of being so near the scene of this murder, and that she and her children are safe from the reach of personal violence!

The interesting countenance of this fine youth, as I lately saw it, haunts me. Beaming with affection towards his mother and sister, and with grat.i.tude towards his friends, it was pleasant to behold it; and now,--how fearful is the change produced in so brief a s.p.a.ce! That bereaved mother and fond sister will never more look on that face so dear;--before the fatal intelligence can have reached them, he will have been consigned to the grave, and will owe to a stranger those last rites which they little dream are now performing.

The number of persons killed during the last three days has excited much less interest in my feelings than the death of this poor youth. I cannot picture to my mind's eye any other distinct image among the slain. They present only a ghastly ma.s.s, with all the revolting accompaniments of gaping wounds and blood-stained garments, I never saw them in life,--knew not the faces that will be steeped in tears, or convulsed in agony at their deaths; but this poor boy, so young, so fair, and so beloved, and his fond mother and gentle sister seem ever to stand before me!

I remember reading, long years ago, the example given of a person recounting all the details of a great battle, in which hundreds were slain, and the listeners hearing the account unmoved, until the relater described one individual who had been killed, and drew a vivid picture, when those who had heard of the death of hundreds without any deeper emotion than general pity, were melted to tears. This is my case, with regard to the poor young page, cut off in the morning of his life; for, having his image present to my mind, his death seems more grievous to me than that of hundreds whom I have never seen.

_30th_.--The last news is, that the Dauphin has been named Generalissimo, that he has placed himself at the head of the vast body of troops that still adhere to their allegiance, and that he is to advance on Paris. This determination has been adopted too late, and can now, in my opinion, avail but little.

Comte d'O---- has just returned from seeing the last sad duties paid to the remains of the poor young page. He brings the intelligence that the royal family left St.-Cloud last night, and are now at Versailles. This step proves that they consider their case hopeless. Unhappy Bourbons! a fatality seems to impend over the race; and Charles the Tenth appears doomed to die, as he has lived the greater portion of his life, in exile. The absence of the Dauphine at this eventful period has been peculiarly unfortunate for her family; for, with her firmness of character and prompt.i.tude of decision, her counsel might have served, while her presence would have given an impetus to, their cause.

I have just seen ----, who told me, that on the King's departure for Versailles he left the Dauphin in command of the troops that still adhered to their allegiance, and that the Prince placed himself at the head of a battalion of the _garde royale_, charged the enemy on the Pont de Sevres, and took possession of it; but the troops, with the exception of a few officers, refused to follow, and left him to receive the fire of the insurgents, which it is wonderful that he escaped. With what feelings must he have bent his course to Versailles, deserted by troops on whom he had bestowed so many favours and acts of munificence, to meet his sovereign and father, with the sad news of their revolt!

I have just had the gratifying intelligence that the d.u.c.h.esse de Guiche and her children reached St.-Germain's in safety. This is a great relief to my mind. The royal arms on the carriage, and the liveries, were recognised at the Barriere, and the populace crowded around, many of them expressing their dissatisfaction at beholding these memorials of a family so lately respected, if not beloved. It had been represented to the d.u.c.h.esse, previously to her leaving Paris, that she ran no inconsiderable risk in venturing out with the royal arms on her carriage;[9] but she declared that she would not consent to their being effaced. She courageously, and with a calm dignity, addressed the angry crowd, explained her sentiments and feelings to them in a few brief words, and they, won by her beauty and n.o.ble bearing, even perhaps still more than by her courage (though intrepidity has always a peculiar charm for Frenchmen), cheered her, and suffered the carriage to proceed unmolested.

_July 30th_.--I am again alarmed for the safety of the d.u.c.h.esse de Guiche. The populace having yesterday a.s.sembled at the Place St.-Germain, in which is the residence of her father-in-law, the Duc de Gramont, they evinced so hostile a feeling towards all attached to the royal family, that a friend, becoming apprehensive of violence, scaled the wall of the garden, and entering the house, implored the d.u.c.h.esse, ere it was yet too late, to seek safety by flight.

Alarmed for her children--for this n.o.ble-minded woman is a stranger to personal fear--she sought refuge with them in the Forest of St.-Germain, in the Chateau du Val, the abode of the Princesse de Poix, where she experiences all the kindness and hospitality which her amiable hostess can practise, in order to soothe the anxiety of her guest.

What a change in the position of the d.u.c.h.esse, and in so brief a s.p.a.ce!

A fugitive in that forest where, every year during the _Fete des Loges_, she dispensed kindness to the poor, and amiability to all, doing the honours of the Duc de Gramont's house, where her condescension and goodness were the themes of every tongue! And now, hara.s.sed in mind and body, terrified for the safety of her husband, who is with the royal family, and for her two eldest sons, who are in their college, in the Rue St.-Marceau, which is rendered inaccessible, owing to the barricades.

_31st_.--Lafayette is now said to be the oracle of the provisional government, and the idol of the populace. Advanced far in the vale of life, his energies and vigour are gone, and his _name_ serves the party more than his counsel can; for with the republicans, at least, it is a guarantee for honest motives. What a strange destiny has his been--called on to perform so conspicuous a part in two revolutions!

---- has just been here, and announced that the Duc d'Orleans is named Lieutenant-general of France. It is a.s.serted, that this appointment has been effected by the influence of General Lafayette over the provisional government; but how little in accordance is this measure with the well-known Utopian scheme of a republic, which has for years been the favourite dream of this venerable visionary?

_August 1st_. ---- now has brought the intelligence that Charles the Tenth has nominated the Duc d'Orleans Lieutenant-general, so that his Royal Highness has been chosen by both sides--a flattering proof of the confidence reposed in him by each. Were he ambitious, here is an opportunity of indulging this "infirmity of n.o.ble minds," though at the expense of the elder branch of his family; but he will not, I am sure, betray the trust they have confided to him. Order seems now to be in a great measure restored; the people appear in good-humour; but there is a consciousness of power evident in their hilarity that too forcibly reminds one of their victory.

The Duc of Orleans has been to the Hotel-de-Ville, where he presented himself to the people from the balcony; embraced General Lafayette, who stood by his side; and was applauded with enthusiasm by the immense mult.i.tude who witnessed the _accolade_.

_2nd_.--The news of the day is, that Charles the Tenth has abdicated the crown in favour of the Duc de Bordeaux, who is now styled Henri V.

This act might, four or five days ago, have produced some salutary effect; but it now comes too late--at least, so think those who profess to know more on the subject than I do. The position of the Lieutenant-general, in this case, reminds me of that of a _confidante_ in a quarrel between lovers, in which the interest of the absent is too often sacrificed, owing to the dangerous opportunity furnished for forwarding that of the supposed friend.

_3d_.--Again, considerable excitement has prevailed in the town, produced by the proclamation, that the dethroned sovereign had determined to take up his position, with the strong military force that still adheres to him, at Rambouillet. The publicity given to this news was a very injudicious measure, if conciliation, or even forbearance to the deposed family, was desired.

The populace, that many-headed monster, only seen abroad when evil pa.s.sions dictate violence, again rush through the streets, breathing vengeance against the poor old man, whose grey hairs, more exposed by the absence of the crown his _ci-devant_ subjects have wrested from his head, should have claimed more respect at their hands. Truly has the poet said,

"He who has worn crown, When less than king is less than other men,-- A fallen star, extinguish'd, leaving blank Its place in heaven."

This fickle people, or, at least, the dregs of them, for it would be unjust to confound all in their enormities, will efface the credit they have gained by the forbearance from crime that has as yet characterised this revolution, by some act of brutality towards the royal family. But even the very dregs of the people have not appeared desirous to adopt any such course, until excited into it by the wicked rumours set afloat, that Charles the Tenth had carried off all the crown jewels--a rumour peculiarly calculated to excite their ire and meet a ready credence, each individual of the motley train looking on himself as having an interest in these national riches, and judging from _self_, of the possibility--nay, more, probability, of so vile an action. How little can such minds identify themselves with the feelings of those who, sated with the gewgaws and trappings of grandeur, forget them in the deep, the powerful excitement of beholding a throne crumbling into ruin beneath them--a diadem rudely torn from their brows--the power they wielded, even that of doing good, wrested violently, with the sceptre, from their hands; and more than all, behold the loved, the _trusted_--those on whom they had showered benefits with prodigality, turn from them in their hour of need and join their foes!

"If thou canst hate, as, oh! that soul must hate Which loves the virtuous and reveres the great; If thou canst loathe and execrate with me That gallic garbage of philosophy,-- That nauseous slaver of these frantic times, With which false liberty dilutes her crimes; If thou hast got within thy free-born breast One pulse that beats more proudly than the rest With honest scorn for that inglorious soul Which creeps and winds beneath a mob's control.

Which courts the rabble's smile, the rabble's nod, And makes, like Egypt, every beast its G.o.d!"

_August 4th_.--The King has left Rambouillot, alarmed by the report of the approach of the vast mult.i.tude who had left, or were leaving, Paris, with hostile intentions towards the royal family. The scenes that took place then, previously to his departure, are represented as being most affecting.

An old man, overpowered by mental and bodily sufferings, remembering the terrible days of a former revolution, brought with a fearful vividness to his mind by the appalling change effected within the last few eventful days, he had lost all presence of mind, and with it his confidence in those whom he might have safely trusted, while he yielded it to those whose interests were wholly opposed to his. Nor is the deplorable effect produced on his mind by recent events to be wondered at.

Adversity is the only school in which monarchs can acquire wisdom, and it almost always comes too late to enable them to profit by its bitter lessons. The defection of those hitherto supposed to be devoted friends, the altered looks of faces never before beheld without being dressed in smiles, the unceremoniousness of courtiers who never previously had dared to have an opinion before royalty had decided what it should be, might well have shook firmer nerves, and touched a sterner heart, than belonged to the old, grey-headed monarch, who saw himself betrayed without comprehending by whom, and who used his authority as sovereign and father, over his religiously obedient son, to extort an abdication of his right, as well as an approval of the resignation of his own.

Like another Lear, this poor old man has been driven forth "to bide the pelting of the pitiless storm" of a revolution, followed by his widowed daughter-in-law and her helpless son, that child orphaned ere yet he saw the light, and by Frenchmen who now condemn him to exile!

They have taken the route to Cherbourg, there to embark; and of those who lately bent the knee before them, how few have followed their now gloomy fortunes! One, at least, has not left, and will not forsake them. The Duc de Guiche, the kindest husband and father perhaps in France, sacrifices his feelings of domestic affection to his sense of duty, and accompanies the exiled family!

CHAPTER XXVI.

_August 5th_.--There are rumours today that the son of the Emperor Napoleon will be called to fill the vacant throne. This seems to me to be very improbable, when I reflect that General Lafayette, whose influence is omnipotent at present, appears wholly devoted to the Duc d'Orleans. The minds of the people are as yet wholly unsettled; a dread of how their late exploits may be looked on by the foreign powers allied to the deposed sovereign, pervades the mult.i.tude, and the republicans begin to discover that their Utopian schemes are little likely to be advanced by the revolution effected.

I was forcibly struck this morning on reading, in an Italian writer, the following pa.s.sage, which is strongly applicable to the present time:

"When a revolution is ripe, men are always found who are ready to commence it, and make their bodies the steps to the throne of him who is to profit by their labours, without having shared their dangers."

I have a presentiment that the truth of this axiom will be verified in France.

_August 6th_.--Reports are now afloat that the crown of France has been offered to the Duke of Orleans, but that the offer was not unanimous, and that consequently he has not accepted it. Other rumours state, that if he should be induced to do so, it will only be to hold it as a sacred deposit to be restored to the rightful owner when, with safety to both parties, it can be transferred. Should this be the case, then will the Duke of Orleans deserve well of the elder branch of his family who have behaved so kindly towards him, but I confess I am not one of those who believe in the likelihood of such an abnegation of self, as this voluntary abdication would display.