[1]I have been told I was mistaken in this information. But I appeal to M. Thiers himself and to hisSouvenirs of 1829.M. Thiers will not have forgotten the reply made him at a masked ball, by a domino who gave his arm to M. de Blancmesnil, a reply that obliged him to quit the ball instantly. Perhaps, by the domino's permission, I shall be able to relate the scene later.
[1]I have been told I was mistaken in this information. But I appeal to M. Thiers himself and to hisSouvenirs of 1829.M. Thiers will not have forgotten the reply made him at a masked ball, by a domino who gave his arm to M. de Blancmesnil, a reply that obliged him to quit the ball instantly. Perhaps, by the domino's permission, I shall be able to relate the scene later.
[2]Translator's note.—Dumas probably means the duchess.
[2]Translator's note.—Dumas probably means the duchess.
[3]See notes at end of volume.
[3]See notes at end of volume.
Philippe VII.—How Béranger justified himself for having helped to make a King—The Duc d'Orléans during the three days—His arrival in Paris on the evening of the 30th—He sends for M. de Mortemart—Unpublished letter by him to Charles X.—Benjamin Constant and Laffite—Deputation of the Chamber to the Palais-Royal—M. Sébastiani—M. de Talleyrand—The Duc d'Orléans accepts the Lieutenant-Generalship of the Kingdom—Curious papers found at the Tuileries
Philippe VII.—How Béranger justified himself for having helped to make a King—The Duc d'Orléans during the three days—His arrival in Paris on the evening of the 30th—He sends for M. de Mortemart—Unpublished letter by him to Charles X.—Benjamin Constant and Laffite—Deputation of the Chamber to the Palais-Royal—M. Sébastiani—M. de Talleyrand—The Duc d'Orléans accepts the Lieutenant-Generalship of the Kingdom—Curious papers found at the Tuileries
My first care after my warm reception by General La Fayette was, it will be readily understood, to go and have a bath and change all my clothes. The bath was not a difficult matter to obtain, as the Deligny swimming bath was nearly opposite my rooms. When I entered, I must say I frightened everybody, down even to old Jean. I consigned my gun, pistols, powder and bullets to the page boy, with the remainder of my three thousand francs. After which, whilst someone went to find Joseph to tell him to bring me fresh linen and clothes, I took the most delicious plunge I ever had in my life. An hour later I was quite in a condition to present myself even before the Provisional Government, if anybody could have told me where they were sitting. I sent home my recently worn fighting outfit, and took my way in the direction of the Hôtel Laffitte. I was eager for news. I had the very greatest difficulty in gaining access to the famous banker. Nobody would recognise me now; I was too well dressed. Discussion of the nature of noisy talking was going on in the Salon. M. Sébastiani was said to have come back from Prince Talleyrand bringing important news. What was that news? Suddenly the door opened and M. Sébastiani, with a radiant face, flung the substance of the following wordsto the three to four hundred persons who crowded the dining-room, ante-chambers and passages.
"Messieurs, you may announce to everybody that from to-day the name of the King of France will be Philippe VII."
Although I was expecting something of the kind, the shock was a violent one. King for king, I liked King Charles X. almost as much as King Philippe VII. Béranger went by at the moment, and I knew he must have had a great deal to do in that nomination. I flung myself on his neck, partly to embrace him, partly to provoke him to a quarrel, and, laughing and scolding both together, I said:
"Ah! by Jove! you have just served us a fine trick, father."
I called Béranger "father," and he was so gracious as to call me his "son."
"What is it I have done, my son?" he replied.
"What have you done? Well, you have made a king."
His face assumed its usual expression of gentle seriousness.
"Pay deep attention to that which I am going to say to you, my child," he resumed. "I have not exactly made a king ... No...."
"What have you done, then?"
"What the little Savoyards do in a storm.... I have put a plank across the stream."
How many times since have I pondered on that sad and philosophical illustration! It modified some of my ideas; it directed my historical studies in 1831 and 1832; and, in 1833, it inspired me with the epilogue toGaule et France.Béranger moved away. I remained in meditation. What would have happened, supposing I could have foreseen that the most prosaic of any throne upon earth should be raised by a poet in 1830, and overthrown by another poet in 1848? What a strange setting Béranger and Lamartine were to those eighteen years of reign! I was only distracted from my reveries by the murmurs which went on around me. A violent scene was being enacted close by.
A former secretary of Ouvrard, named Poisson, had justopened the door of M. Laffitte's salon, and was declaring, with oaths that were enough to shake the house, that he would have no king. And this opinion was shared, too, by all those who were there.
No, I repeat it, that election was not popular at first, and, from the Hôtel Laffitte to the Palais-Royal, where I next went in pursuance of the flight of the news, I heard more imprecations than applause. I went to No. 216 for fuller details. The Duc d'Orléans was at the Palais-Royal. But if Oudard were within he kept himself invisible. There were porters and clerks, however, all extremely visible and well-informed, because everything was talked of in their presence, they being regarded as of no importance; they are a garrulous lot when they condescend to step down from their self-imputed importance. And I should add that, besides the porters and clerks, there were two or three people who were also perfectly well-informed of the news.
Now, I will guarantee the accuracy of what had occurred and I challenge anybody to dispute the fact. The Duc d'Orléans returned to the Palais-Royal at eleven on the night of the 30th. Let us follow his movements curiously during the three days. The news of the Ordinances and the noise of firing reached the duke at Neuilly, where he spent his summers. From the few words we have already spoken, by the silence and delays with which Laffitte's suggestions were first received, it could be seen that his Highness was extremely anxious. As long as the kingdom hung before his eyes, like a motionless phantom on the horizon, the duke approached it obliquely, timidly and by tortuous ways; yet none the less did he aim for it. But when that phantom took definite shape and drew nearer to him, he grew alarmed. The phantom could no longer label itself a kingdom, but usurpation; it no longer wore the crown of Saint Louis, but the red cap of Danton and Cellot-d'Herbois. The Duc d'Orléans was courageous, but not to the point of audacity. We repeat—and we look upon it as a virtue in him—that he was afraid. During the 28th and 29th he remained hidden in one of the small huts in his park at Neuilly, whichbore the name of the Laiterie (the Dairy). On the morning of the 29th they brought him a bullet that had fallen in the park. And on that same day, after he had received from Laffitte the message "A crown or a passport," his uneasiness increased to such an extent that, thinking he was not thoroughly concealed in the hut, he started with Oudard for Raincy. He wore a maroon-coloured coat, blue trousers and a grey hat in which blossomed a tricolour cockade that Madame Adélaide had made him. Before he started, he left behind a note, dated 3.15 in the morning, to make people believe he was at Neuilly. On the 30th, as we have told, after the visit of MM. Thiers and Scheffer, they despatched M. de Montesquieu to him. We have related how he left Raincy and then returned to it. During the whole of the 30th he remained at Raincy without showing any signs of his existence. But all the time messages were piling up, and one of them having announced that a deputation from the Chamber had come to offer him the crown, he then decided to return to Neuilly, which he reached towards nine in the evening. Madame Adélaide had taken possession of a copy of the declaration from the Chamber, perhaps even the actual declaration itself. It was read aloud in the park by torchlight, in the presence of the whole family. He could no longer hold back, but had to choose between the throne—that is to say, the everlasting ambition of his race—or exile, which was the perpetual terror of his life. He embraced his wife and children and set out for Paris only accompanied by three persons: M. Berthois, M. Heymes and Oudard. It was ten at night when they left the carriage at the barrier; they entered Paris, climbed over the barricades and reached 216 rue Saint-Honoré. The duke re-entered the Palais-Royal by the side entrance used by the employés, and not by the main court and staircase of honour. He went upstairs to Oudard's office, which was, it will be remembered, next to my old office. There, exhausted with fatigue, running with sweat, and shivering convulsively, he flung off his coat, waistcoat and shirt, even to his flannel vest, changed clothes, sent for a mattress andthrew himself upon it. He knew of M. de Mortemart's arrival in Paris, and with what honourable object the duke had come; he sent for him to beg him at once to come to the Palais-Royal. A quarter of an hour later M. de Mortemart was announced. The Duc d'Orléans raised himself on one elbow.
"Oh! come here, come here, monsieur le duc!" he exclaimed in a short, feverish voice when he saw him; "I hasten to tell you, so that you may transmit my words to King Charles, how very grieved I am at all that has happened."
M. de Mortemart bowed.
"You are returning to Saint-Cloud, are you not? You will go and see the king?"
"Yes, monseigneur."
"Well, then," the duke continued in agitation, "tell the king they have brought me to Paris by force. I was at Raincy yesterday, when a crowd of men invaded the Château of Neuilly.... They asked to see me in the name of the re-union of the Chamber, but I was absent. They threatened the duchess, telling her she would be taken to Paris a prisoner with her children until I reappeared, and she was afraid ... that is surely easily conceivable in a wife?... She wrote me a note urging me to return ... you know how fond I am of my wife and children;... that consideration weighed with me before all others, and I returned. They were waiting for me at Neuilly, seized me and brought me here ... that is how I am situated."
Just at that moment, cries of "Vive le Duc d'Orléans!" resounded in the street and penetrated right into the Palais-Royal courtyard. M. de Mortemart shuddered.
"You hear, monseigneur?" he said.
"Yes, yes, I hear ... but I count for nothing in those shoutings, and you can tell the king I would rather die than accept the crown."
"Should you have any objections, monseigneur, to assure the king of these honourable intentions in writing?"
"None at all, monsieur, none at all.... Oudard, bring me a pen, paper and ink."
Whilst Oudard was looking for them, the duke tore a blank sheet from a sort of register which lay within his reach: it was a register in connection with the Chevaliers de l'Ordre. Then, according to his habit, to economise paper, he made the rough draft of his letter upon the sheet he tore out of the register. It was, no doubt, owing to this economy of his that we are able to give the public a copy of that highly important, extremely curious and authentic letter. When the Duc d'Orléans had written his letter, he crumpled up the rough copy in his hands, threw it away behind him, and it rolled into a corner by the fireplace, where it was picked up the next day. By whom, I cannot say. I can only state that I copied the letter you are about to read from that very rough draft itself. As for the fate of the final letter, M. de Mortemart folded it, placed it inside his white cravat, and went away to carry it to the king. It was this letter that Charles X. re-read with much bitterness, when he learnt that Louis-Philippe had accepted the crown. Here is the rough draft with his autograph and erasures; we have not altered one single letter from the original, but left it exactly as His Royal Highness wrote it.
"M. de —— will tell Your Majesty how they brought me here by force. I do not know to what point these people may go in the employment of force towards me; but (if it should happen) if in this fearful state of disorder it should happen that they were to impose upon me a title to which I have never aspired, Your Majesty may be (convinced) very well assured that I will receive no kind of power except temporarily, and in the sole interest of Our House."I hereby formally swear this to Your Majesty."My family share my feelings in this matter."(Your faithful subject)."PALAIS-ROYAL,July31, 1830.
"M. de —— will tell Your Majesty how they brought me here by force. I do not know to what point these people may go in the employment of force towards me; but (if it should happen) if in this fearful state of disorder it should happen that they were to impose upon me a title to which I have never aspired, Your Majesty may be (convinced) very well assured that I will receive no kind of power except temporarily, and in the sole interest of Our House.
"I hereby formally swear this to Your Majesty.
"My family share my feelings in this matter.
"(Your faithful subject)."
PALAIS-ROYAL,
July31, 1830.
We will now invite our readers, those especially who like to form an exact impression of the character of the men who arechosen for leaders of humanity; we will, we say, invite them to compare this copy of the letter with the note sent from Neuilly during the night of the 29th of July.
Louis-Philippe as a private individual, Louis-Philippe as politician and Louis-Philippe as king, are all faithfully depicted by his own hand in that note and that rough draft of a letter. But the date of 31 July puzzles us, especially after the lapse of twenty-two years. Is it an error of the duke's, or was the note not signed until after midnight?—this would make the date of the 31st correct; or, again, as is just conceivably possible, was it signed only on the evening of the 31st? Our own opinion is that it was signed on the morning of the 31st, between one and two o'clock, after midnight. And we base our opinion on the fact that, at one o'clock in the morning M. Laffitte had not yet been informed of the arrival of the Duc d'Orléans. Besides, the salons of the illustrious banker, deserted little by little by those whom the silence and absence of the Duc d'Orléans rendered anxious, kept on thinning in a manner far from re-assuring. At two o'clock in the morning, indeed, no one was left in the salon but Laffitte and Benjamin Constant. Béranger had just retired, worn out with fatigue.
"Well!" Laffitte remarked with his accustomed imperturbability, "what do you think of the situation, Constant?"
"I?" the author ofAdolphelaughingly replied. "Well, my dear Laffitte, it is a hundred chances to one that by to-morrow at this hour we shall be hung."
Laffitte made a gesture.
"Ah! I quite understand that. You are not madly in love with hanging; it would spoil your pretty pink face and your well-groomed hair and your perfectly adjusted cravat; while I, with my long yellow face, look as though I had been hanged already, and the cord would add little to my physiognomy."
With this compliment, the two men separated at half-past two in the morning. It was only at five that they waked M. Laffitte to warn him of the arrival of the Duc d'Orléans in Paris.
"Oh!" said he, "Benjamin Constant is distinctly wrong, and we shall not be hanged."
Now, at eight o'clock in the morning the deputation from the Chamber, which had presented itself at Neuilly the previous day, appeared at the Palais-Royal, headed by General Sébastiani. He was the very same general who, on 29 July, said, "Beware lest you go too far, gentlemen ... we are merely negotiating, and our part is that of mediators, we are not even deputies!"—the same who, on the 30th, said, "The only national thing in France is the white flag!"—again, on the 31st, "Go, Monsieur Thiers, and try to persuade the Duc d'Orléans to accept the crown!" and, again, on I August, "Gentlemen, tell the whole world that the name of the King of France is now Philippe VII.!" In a word, he who later was to say, "Order reigns at Warsaw!"
Nor let us forget that it was this same General Sébastiani who, on my first visit to Paris, received me with four secretaries, each stationed in the four corners of his room ready to offer him snuff out of a gold snuff-box.
A regular character to be studied during a revolution, and one whose memory I should like to preserve to posterity! Why have not such men the power of imprinting their images (like that of the Christ) on the handkerchiefs with which they mop their ambitious brows?
The Duc d'Orléans put in an appearance this time; he promised nothing definite, but he pledged himself to give his answer in an hour. He, too, like Brutus, had a Delphic Oracle to consult. His special Oracle lived at the corner of the rue de Rivoli and the rue Saint Florentin.
Louis Blanc relates how, on 29 July 1830, at five minutes past noon, a window was timidly opened at the corner of the rue Saint Florentin, but, timidly as it opened, a shrill cracked voice cried out—
"Monsieur Keiser, Monsieur Keiser, what are you doing?"
"I am looking into the street, prince."
"Monsieur Keiser, you will be the cause of my house being broken into."
"No chance of that, prince: the troops are beating a retreat and the people are busily engaged in pursuing them."
"Oh! really, Monsieur Keiser?"
Then the person addressed by the title of prince rose, limped towards the clock, and in a reassured and almost solemn tone of voice, he said—
"Monsieur Keiser, make a note in your diary that on 29 July, at five minutes past noon, the Elder Branch of the House of Bourbon ceased reigning over France."
That lame old man, who in prophetic utterance had announced the downfall of Charles, was Charles Maurice de Talleyrand Périgord, Prince of Benevento, once Bishop of Autun, who was the first to suggest the sale of the benefices of the clergy in 1789; who said mass upon the altar of patriotism on 14 July 1790, the day of the fête of the Federation; who was sent, in 1792, to London by Louis XVI. to assist the Ambassador M. de Chauvelin; who was Foreign Minister in 1796, under the Directory; created Grand-Chamberlain on the accession of the Emperor in 1804; created Prince of Benevento in 1806; and received the title of Vice-Grand Elector, with a salary of five hundred thousand francs, in 1807; who was made a member of the Provisional Government in 1814; and Minister for Foreign Affairs and envoy extraordinary to Vienna, by Louis XVIII. in the same year; who was appointed Ambassador to London by Louis-Philippe in 1830; and who, finally, died, more or less of a Christian, on 18 May 1838.
Now, I have frequently heard men who were most conversant with contemporary politics and with the corruption of the times wonder how M. de Talleyrand had managed to get pardoned by Louis XVIII. for having been a member of the Constituent Assembly, sworn Bishop, officiating Minister at the Champs de Mars, Minister of the Directory, plenipotentiary of Bonaparte, Grand-Chamberlain to the Emperor, etc. etc.
I am going to tell you a thing of which future history would otherwise be unaware, a fact that will probably not come out until true Memoirs of the Prince are published.
M. de Talleyrand was warned of the First Consul's intention to arrest and shoot the Due d'Enghien eight or ten days in advance. He summoned a courier upon whom he knew hecould rely, and sent a letter by him to the duke, telling him to sew it into his coat collar, to set off at top speed and only to give the letter to the Due d'Enghien himself. The letter urged the prince to leave Ettenheim instantly, and warned him of his threatened danger. The courier left in the night of 7 and 8 August 1804. It is known that the order to arrest the prince was not issued till the 10th. The courier started as we have described, but, going down the hill of Saverne at a gallop, his horse fell, and broke its rider's leg. Unfortunately, he could not intrust his mission to the first-comer, and he dared not take any such responsibility, so he wrote to ask M. de Talleyrand what he was to do. By the time M. de Talleyrand had received the letter it was already too late to take any step; the order for the arrest had already gone forth. But Prince Condé and Louis XVIII. and Charles X. knew the story, and hence arose the pardon granted to a Republican and Bonapartist, for misdeeds of the former Bishop of Autun. Now it was Talleyrand that his future majesty of the Palais-Royal wished to consult before venturing to pick up the crown which had rolled from the head of Charles X. in the blood of the barricades. It was General Sébastiani whom the Duc d'Orléans commissioned to interrogate the oracle. The said oracle was extremely vexed that everything had been done without him until then, that M. Laffitte had looked upon him as of little account, and he only condescended to reply in these words: "Let him accept."
After this reply, the prince accepted at the end of the promised hour, and the following proclamation was affixed to all the walls of the capital announcing this acceptance to the Parisians:—
"INHABITANTS OF PARIS,"The deputies of France, at this time assembled in Paris, have expressed the desire that I should come to the capital in order to discharge the duties of Lieutenant-General of the kingdom.I have not for one moment wavered in coming to share your dangers, by placing myself in the centre of the heroic population, and I will use all my endeavours to preserve you from civil war and anarchy. In returning to the City ofParis, I wore with pride those glorious colours which you have regained and which I for a long time have worn. The Chambers are about to re-assemble;they will confer concerning the best means of bringing about the reign of law and the maintenance of order.ACharter will henceforth be a fact."L. P. D'ORLÉANS"
"INHABITANTS OF PARIS,
"The deputies of France, at this time assembled in Paris, have expressed the desire that I should come to the capital in order to discharge the duties of Lieutenant-General of the kingdom.I have not for one moment wavered in coming to share your dangers, by placing myself in the centre of the heroic population, and I will use all my endeavours to preserve you from civil war and anarchy. In returning to the City ofParis, I wore with pride those glorious colours which you have regained and which I for a long time have worn. The Chambers are about to re-assemble;they will confer concerning the best means of bringing about the reign of law and the maintenance of order.ACharter will henceforth be a fact.
"L. P. D'ORLÉANS"
There were three noticeable points in this proclamation:
The duke, first of all, declares that hedid not waver for one moment in coming to share the dangersof the Parisian people. A lie, since, on the contrary, he hid himself both at Neuilly and at Raincy during the time of danger, and only reached Paris when the danger was over on the night of the 30th. Next, he announces that the Chambers were about to assemble toconfer concerning the best methods of bringing about the reign of law and the maintenance of order; which statement was a calumny against the people; for, if ever people respected law and maintained order it was the people of July 1830. Finally, M. le Duc d'Orléans said thataCharter would henceforth be a genuine fact. He should have said that, from the very next day, notaCharter buttheCharter, a change imperceptible to the eye and almost to the ear, which brought with it, however, the grave consequence that France, instead of having a new charter, was simply to have the Charter of Louis XVIII., and this meant that the king of the barricades, by appropriating that old charter, not only did not take the trouble to draw up another, but, with a new form of government, only promised to give the people the same amount of liberty as that promised by the fallen Government. This was, indeed, a bold start on a career of kingship. Lying, calumny and chicanery: Louis XI. himself could not have gone farther.
I said that, at the close of this chapter, I would give some idea of the stinginess of the Duc d'Orléans. Perhaps this is not exactly the place for the fragments we are about to introduce to our readers' notice; but those who think they interrupt the course of the narrative, can carry their imaginations elsewhere.
Let us first of all explain how these fragments of informationfell into our hands. To do this in one step we must skip over a period of eighteen years; and, instead of the young man who took active part in all we have just read, substitute the mature man who stood aside, and sadly watched the passing of the events of that long reign; we must suppose the Lieutenant-general, to whose proclamation we have just listened, to be a king, also grown old and unpopular and driven away in his turn; we must imagine ourselves to have left behind Sunday morning, August 1830, for three o'clock in the afternoon of 24 February 1848. Then, the king gone and the Tuileries seized and the Republic proclaimed, I returned alone, sad and anxious, more of a Republican than ever, but of the opinion that the Republic was ill-constituted, ill-matured and ill-promulgated; I returned, my heart depressed by the spectacle of a wife cruelly repulsed, two children separated from their mother, two princes put to flight, one hunted through the rostral columns of the Place de la Concorde, the other along the circular staircases of the Palace of the Deputies; I returned, wondering if all I had seen and heard could actually be true, or whether I was not rather under the influence of a strange nightmare, a mysterious vision; I returned and, metaphorically speaking, felt myself to see if I could really be alive—for it is sometimes as easy for us to doubt our own existence as to doubt the weirdly strange events that we see passing under our very eyes;—I returned, I say, by the Tuileries, with its windows all open and its doors broken in, as on that famous 29 July which I have described at, perhaps, too great length; but how could I help myself? There are some memories which fill such a space in our lives that we feel compelled to impress them upon the lives of others. I was possessed with the idea of looking over the château that I had entered once before and to begin in the same way, at the apartments of King Louis-Philippe, on 24 February 1848, as I had through the rooms that belonged to King Charles and on 29 July 1830.
The account of what I saw will be given elsewhere. Ihave only one thing to relate, and here it is. As I went through the king's cabinet, where all kinds of papers lay scattered over the floor, all soiled with mud, in the midst of these forgotten, useless papers, condemned to the fire and oblivion, I detected some pages covered with characters which made me tremble. It was the king's writing; that very writing which, twenty-five years before, had often passed under my eyes. A patriot of 1848, as ragged as a former patriot of 1830, kept guard over the king's broken-open desk.
"Comrade," I said to the man, "may I have some of these papers that litter the floor?"
"You can take them," he replied; "they are probably left because they are of no value."
So I took them.
At the first Revolution I had come into possession of a copy ofChristineinscribed with the arms of the Duchesse de Berry. At the second, I obtained some old yellow papers that lay on the floor, which I was allowed to take because the sentinel thought they were valueless. It will be noticed that I am not one of the persons who grow rich out of revolutions. True, I do not come under the category of those who are submerged by them. I sail above them, like birds and clouds; then, when the revolutions are over, I direct my flight, not to the side where lie power and fortune, but to the 1 side of justice and faithfulness, even though I should have to follow justice into exile and loyalty through proscription.
But here is a copy of the papers: they themselves will speak better than any notes or commentaries could.
THE CHILDREN'S BREAKFASTSFr. C.The young princes and their {Six portions, at 90 c. 5.40tutors {Seven loaves, at 20 c. 1.40Princesses Louise and Marie {One soup, at at 1.50and Madame de Mallet. {Two portions 1.80{Two loaves 0.40Princesse Clémentine and {One soup, at 1.50Madame Angelet {One portion, at 0.90{Two loaves 0.40THE CHILDREN'S BREAKFASTS--(continued)Fr. C.Duc de Nemours and M. {Cold meat 1.50Larnac, who take them to {Entremet 1.50the college {Two portions 0.80{Two loaves 0.40______[Extra sugar paid for separately]Total by day, without coffee paid separately 18.50Extra, 10 c. per portion 1.10______19.6025 c. Soup and entremet 1.2011 S., 13 loaves, 4 portions______20.80New Tariff of Expenses--Housekeeping EstablishmentFor my table, the same except the suppression of the two fixedprice meals of 6 fr. and 12 fr. (18 fr. altogether), the two monthlysettlements of 1000 fr. and 150 fr. and a discharge to the contractor,of the payment of 1010 fr. per annum for the water-carrier.FOR MY CHILDREN'S TABLE, INCLUDING THEIR TEACHERSBreakfast--(A special tariff kept up during my absence as wellas presence).Fr. C.Saucers of fruits or sweetmeats 1.0Soup 1.80Chicken or cold meat 1.80Entremet of vegetables, etc 1.80Each loaf 0.20French rolls à la Reine 0.10Cup of coffee, simple 0.50Id.with cream 0.75Tea and bread and butter 1.50______Dinner and Supper, charged at half mine when it is served atsame time, but at the same tariff as mine when I am absent andwhen it is omitted. The demi tariff is accordingly as follows:--Fr. C.Soup 2.50Entrees 4.50Roast or flank 6.0Entremets 2.50Plate of dessert 1.50Bread, coffee, tea, etc., the same as at breakfastSugar basins table NothingId.in the rooms 2.0Extra 2 francs per head and per day in case of absence oromission of the superior meals, for those fed in the pantry andthe kitchen.Another Tariff of Household ExpensesFor the Princes' table, the same.FOR THE CHILDREN'SBreakfastsInstead ofFr.C. Fr.C.Portions 0.90 1.0Soups 1.25 1.80Chicken and cold meat 1.25 do.Entremet or vegetable, etc. 1.25 do.French rolls 0.10Bread, per person 0.20Cup of coffee, simple 0.50Id.with cream 0.75Tea, complete 1.50Less per dayRegular meals 18.0Per month 37.80 60/61Children's 48.0______Per day 103-80Id.104+46______Extra66c.______Dinner or SupperFr.C.Soups. 2.50Entrees. 4.50Roast or flank 6.0Entremets. 2.50Dishes of dessert 1.50[Bread, coffee and tea as before]Except when there is only the Children's table to serve, inwhich case it is tariffed the same as the Princes' table.Extra per dayChildren's breakfast (without coffee) 20.80Dinner 43.0Supper 38.90Water-carrier 2.76 60/61______Extra per day 105.46______In addition to this, in case of omission of these two tables,the contractor receives 2 fr. per day per head both, for eachperson maintained in the kitchen and in the office.By means of this fresh tariff he is discharged from havingto pay the water-carrier; but he does not receive the fixed 12 fr.per dinner and 6 fr. per breakfast for the Princes' table, nor the1150 fr. per month for wood, coal and washing.After this tariff the Children's breakfast--Fr. C. Fr. C.17.30+ 3.50Fr. C. 20.80Less 18{ 12 Their dinner 42.0 } Coffee not{ 6 Their supper 38.90} includedAnd price per dayof 13,800 fr. per year, Total 98.2037.80 Formerly 48.20_____ _____55.80 Difference extra 50.20Extra56.46 Plus water-carrier 2.76_____ _____Bonus0.66 Extra per day 52.96_____ACCOUNTS13,800 {365 Extra on breakfast_____ tariff{37.80 60/61Portions, 1 fr. each:2,850 Soup, cold meat, and2,950 entremet300 Each 1.80 3.50_______ 1.010 _________________________365 Makes 56.46 per day extra_________________________2800 {__________{2.76 52/612,450260.52______ 98.202.76565.61 ___________ 100.96______
The Duc d'Orléans goes to the Hôtel de Ville—M. Laffitte in his sedan-chair—The kingsans culotte—Tardy manifestation of the Provisional Government—Odilon Barrot sleeps on a milestone—Another Balthasar Gérard—The Duc d'Orléans is received by La Fayette—A superb voice—Fresh appearance of General Dubourg—The balcony of the Hôtel de Ville—The road to Joigny
We have not yet finished the account of the events that transpired during my absence. Let me therefore be permitted to recall them: every minute, unknown detail gives us the key to an uprising and helps to explain the 5th of June, the 14th of April, or the 12th of May. Then, too, it is well to know that there were men who never did accept that government, but who resisted it for eighteen years, and succeeded in the end in overthrowing it. These men ought to be paid the justice that was their due: in spite of the calumnies, insults and trials to which they were, and are still, subjected, their contemporaries ought, indeed, to learn of their valour, courage, devotion, persistence and loyalty. True, perhaps their contemporaries will not believe me. Never mind! I shall have said it; others will believe me. Truth is one of those stars which may remain buried in the depths of the heavens for months, years, or even centuries, but which in the end, are invariably discovered some day or other. And I would rather be the madman who devotes his life to the discovery of those stars, than the wise man who hails and worships one after the other all those suns that we have seen rise, which were said to be fixed and immovable, but which proved to be nothing but transitory meteors, of some brilliancy, more or less deceptive, but always fatal in their influences!
The Duc d'Orléans, as we have seen, had already advanced a good way: he had won over the Chamber of Peers—(we have not even alluded to that conquest of his: except for the presence of Chateaubriand and Fitz-James, it was not worth the trouble of registering it, and, as is known, Chateaubriand and Fitz-James resigned);—he had won over the Chamber of Deputies; at least, ninety-one signatures attested it.
It now only remained for him to conquer the Hôtel de Ville. Oh! but that was quite another matter! The Hôtel de Ville was not the palace, spoilt by the orgies of the Directory or the proscriptions of 1815; it was not a factory where ambition and cupidity were forged, under the disguise of devotion to the various powers which succeeded one another for half a century. No, indeed; the Hôtel de Ville was the stronghold of shelter for that great popular goddess termed Revolution, during each fresh insurrection. And the spirit of Revolution again held sway there. Power had come to the Duc d'Orléans; but, before that power could be established, the duke had to come to the Revolution. Her representative was an old man, true-hearted and clean-souled, but enfeebled with age. Forty years before, when in the full tide of youth, he had been found wanting at a time of Revolution: would they find what they had vainly looked for at thirty, now he was seventy years of age?
Yes, perhaps, had he stood alone and free to exercise his own convictions; for, since the former devotion to the cause of royalty, he had thought and suffered much; he had known imprisonment and exile; his name had been uttered in every Republican conspiracy, at Béfort and Saumur; and we will describe later under what singular circumstances he escaped proscription with Dermoncourt and execution with Berton. But he was no longer a free agent. One party, the Orléanists, had circumvented him; it was, in fact, quite a siege, cleverly conceived by Laffitte and carried out by Carbonnel.
From hence arose that pregnant saying of Bonnelier: "Vos diables de républicains nous ont donné bien du mal!" ("Your republican devils have done us no end of harm!")
Indeed, it was only with difficulty that republicans gained access to the good old general. They could easily be known, since their number, at the period of which I am speaking, was small, and hardly had one or other of these men come to see him before some one would come in and, under various pretexts, either cut the conversation short or act as a spy.
This was the man with whom the Duc d'Orléans had to deal, and an easy task it was to the prince, who, when he liked, could be most seductively fascinating. Still, the future king wished to be accompanied by a deputation from the Chamber. The Chamber would sooner have sent two deputations than one, and, had the duke expressed the wish, it would have brought up the rear of the procession in a body.
M. Laffitte took the deputation to the Palais-Royal at the appointed hour. They started; but the situation was more serious even than was apparent; it was true that, under pretext of various missions, they had sent the most zealous republicans away from Paris; but there were still a good number left, and these proclaimed loudly that the newly-elected monarch should not reach the Hôtel de Ville. The Duc d'Orléans was on horseback, feeling, no doubt, uneasy at the bottom of his heart, but looking calm outwardly. It was one of the prince's finest qualities: fearful and irresolute while he could not fathom or see the danger; when he was face to face with it, he met it bravely. He could not have said with Cæsar: "Danger and I are two lions born at the same time, I being the elder!" but he could have said he was the younger. M. Laffitte followed in a sedan-chair carried by Savoyards; his foot caused him horrible suffering; he was shod in slippers. Except for the bandages which swathed it, one leg was bare. So, after he had offered the crown to the prince, as president of the Chamber, he leant to him and whispered low in his ear—
"Two slippers and only one stocking. This time, at any rate,ifla Quotidiennesaw us it would say we were creating a kingsans culotte."
All went well from the Palais-Royal to the quay. They were still in the bourgeoisie quarter, and they had come to make a king in their own image, as God made man after His own image. The bourgeoisie saw in the king its own reflection, and gazed with complacency at its own image, up to the moment when it discovered how ugly it was, and then it broke the glass. So the bourgeoisie hailed his election. But, when on the quay, and across the Pont Neuf, and the Place du Châtelet reached, not only did the cheers cease altogether, but the faces of the crowd looked dark, and tremors of anger could be felt in the air. Surely the spirits of the dead were protesting against this new type of Bourbon. At the Hôtel de Ville itself there was a great agitation going on. At last the famous Provisional Government, hitherto invisible, materialised itself: Mauguin, de Schonen, Audry de Puyraveau, Lobau, were all anti-Orléanists: Lobau especially, who had refused to put his signature to an order the previous day, was furious.
"I don't want this one any more than the rest!" he exclaimed; "he is still a Bourbon!"
M. Barthe, the former Carbonaro, was present. The question of drawing up a Republican proclamation arose, and he offered to undertake it, picked up a pen and began to write. While he wrote, General Lobau grew more and more exasperated and went up to M. de Schonen.
"We are risking our heads," he said to him; "but, what matters! Here are two pistols, one for you, one for me ... it is all that is left to two men who have no fear of death!"
These proceedings were not exactly re-assuring. Odilon Barrot could be relied upon; he it was who had uttered those famous words at the municipal commission the day before that are attributed to La Fayette, as Harel's and Montrond's were attributed to M. de Talleyrand: "The Duc d'Orléans is the finest Republic." Odilon Barrot was deputed to go to the Palais-Royal to give the contrary order. Odilon Barrot,in common with most people, had had little sleep for three days and he was worn out with fatigue; he went down and found such a dense crowd and the heat so intolerable that he called for a horse. Some one hastened to fetch him one. While waiting, he leant against a milestone and fell asleep. They were an hour before they could find him again, and, just when they had succeeded and he had mounted the horse, the head of the procession appeared in the Place de Grève.
Now I saw a great deal of Odilon Barrot at the Hôtel de Ville and watched him very attentively, and I declare that no one could possibly be more coolly courageous than he.
So the Duc d'Orléans had arrived; he had reached the Place de Grève, and was, therefore, entering into the very centre of the Revolutionary party. His horse's breast separated the crowd in front of it as a ship's prow separates the waves. A frigid silence was maintained all round him as he passed on. He was deadly pale. A young man, who was even paler still, awaited him on the steps of the Hôtel de Ville with arms crossed, hiding a pistol in his breast. He had conceived the terrible resolution of firing at the prince point-blank.
"Ah! so you are playing the part of William the Silent," he said; "you shall end as he did!"
One of his friends was standing by his side.
Just when the Duc d'Orléans stepped down from his horse and began to ascend the Hôtel de Ville steps, this would-be Balthasar Gérard took a step forward, but his companion stopped him.
"Do not compromise yourself uselessly," he said to him, "your pistol is unloaded."
"Who unloaded it?"
"I did."
He led his friend away.
This was not the truth: the pistol was really loaded, but the lie probably prevented the Duc d'Orléans from being shot down on the steps of the Hôtel de Ville.
What reward did the man receive who saved the life of thefuture king of the French? I will tell you: he was killed at Saint-Mery and died cursing himself!
The Duc d'Orléans mounted the Hôtel de Ville steps with a firm tread; he passed close to Death, unwitting that Death, who so nearly touched him, had folded up his wings again. The gloomy vault of the old municipal palace, like the huge throat of a stone gargoyle, swallowed up the prince and his cortège. General La Fayette awaited him at the head of the staircase of the Hôtel de Ville. The situation was so great that men themselves appeared dwarfed. And, indeed, what did it mean: that the prince of the Younger Branch of the Bourbons was paying a visit to the hero of 1789? It meant that a democratic monarchy was to break off for ever from an aristocratic monarchy; it was the fulfilment of fifteen years of conspiracy; and the consecration of revolt by the pope of liberty.
We ought, perhaps, to stop here at this great moment, since all other details will seem paltry beside it.
The Duc d'Orléans, La Fayette and several of his friends formed the central point of interest of a vast crowd of men holding very different opinions. Some cheered, others protested. Four or five students from the École Polytechnique were there bareheaded, but with swords bare also. Some working men passed by, through the clearer spaces, shouting with sunburnt, lowering faces, some of them bloodstained, and they were gently pushed back so that the prince should not be offended by such a sight. It was, indeed, remorse that was being driven back, with the respect which is its due.
The matter in hand was the reading of the proclamation of the Chamber. M. Laffitte had spoken at such great length, as had everybody else, that he could not talk any longer. He held his proclamation in his hand, and goodness alone knows what effect a proclamation read in the grotesque tones of hoarseness would have produced!
"Give it me, give it me, my dear friend," shrieked M. Viennet, seizing the proclamation out of the hands of the famous banker, "I have a splendid voice!"
And it was, indeed, in superb tones that he read the proclamation of the Chamber. When the reader reached the words, "The Committee for judging delinquencies of the Press," the man who was to make the Laws of September, leant over to La Fayette and, shrugging his shoulders, asked—
"Will there be any more Press misdemeanours, now?"
When the reading was done he put his hand on his heart, a gesture much affected by all newly crowned kings, which, however, always produces the same successful effect.
"As a Frenchman," he said, "I deplore the harm done to the country and the blood that has been shed; as a prince I am happy to contribute to the welfare of the nation."
Suddenly a man advanced to the middle of the circle. It was General Dubourg, the man of the black flag, the phantom of 29 July. He had disappeared, and now reappeared only to disappear again once more.
"Take heed, monsieur," he said to the Duc d'Orléans; "you are aware of our rights, the sacred rights of the people; if you forget them, we will remind you of them!"
The duke stepped back, not because of this threat, but to take hold of La Fayette by the arm, and leaning upon it, he replied—
"Monsieur, what you have just said proves that you do not know me. I am an honest man, and when I have a duty to perform I do not let myself be won over by entreaties, nor intimidated by threats."
Nevertheless the scene had made a vivid impression, an impression that required to be combated.
La Fayette led the Duc d'Orléans out upon the balcony of the Hôtel de Ville. And for the second time he staked his popularity on a throw of the dice. The first time was on 6 October 1789, when he kissed the hand of the queen upon the balcony of the Palais de Versailles. The second time was on 31 July 1830, when he appeared upon the balcony of the Hôtel de Ville, holding the Duc d'Orléans by the arm.
For a moment one might have supposed that this dramaticeffect had fallen flat; the square was lined with heads, with flashing eyes, with gaping mouths,—all dumb. Georges La Fayette handed a tricolour flag to his father. The folds floated round the general and the duke, and brushed against their faces; both seemed to the people not resplendent with self-emanating light, but illuminated by some celestial glory, and the people burst into applause.
The game was won.
Oh! political players, how strong you are when a new man is to be raised! How weak when it comes to the supporting of a power grown old!
The return of the Duc d'Orléans to the Palais-Royal was a triumph. He had nothing left to desire: he had the triple recognition of the Chamber of Peers, of the Chamber of Deputies and of the Hôtel de Ville. He was the chosen-elect of M. de Lémonville, of M. Laffitte and La Fayette.
That very same night one of the carriages calledCarolinesfetched the wife, sister and children of the Lieutenant-General of the realm from Neuilly to the Palais-Royal. The Duc de Chartres was alone missing from that reunion. He had, as we know, been sent away to Joigny. On the road to Joigny his carriage had passed another carriage. It contained Madame la Duchesse d'Angoulême, returning from her watering-place, where she had been informed by telegraph of the grave troubles that were agitating Paris. The two carriages pulled up, as the prince and princess had recognised one another.
"What is the latest news, Monsieur de Chartres?" asked the Duchesse d'Angoulême.
"Bad! madame, very bad!" replied the prince; "the Louvre is taken!"
Indeed, it was bad news for you, for your brothers, for your father and for the whole family. And it is you, poor prince, who in the eyes of posterity will be right!
M. Thiers' way of writing history—Republicans at the Palais-Royal—Louis-Philippe's first ministry—Casimir Périer's cunning—My finest drama—Lothon and Charras—A Sword-thrust—The Posting-Master of Bourget once more—La Fère—Lieutenant-Colonel Duriveau—Lothon and General La Fayette.
M. Thiers' way of writing history—Republicans at the Palais-Royal—Louis-Philippe's first ministry—Casimir Périer's cunning—My finest drama—Lothon and Charras—A Sword-thrust—The Posting-Master of Bourget once more—La Fère—Lieutenant-Colonel Duriveau—Lothon and General La Fayette.
Whilst the Duc d'Orléans was making his triumphal and happy entry into the Palais-Royal, six or eight young men were gathered together above the offices of theNationalin the set of rooms shared by Paulin and Gauja. They were looking at one another in silence—a silence all the more threatening since they were still armed as on the day of battle. These young men were Thomas, Bastide, Chevalon, Grouvelle, Bonvilliers, Godefroy Cavaignac, Étienne Arago, Guinard, and, possibly, a few others whose names have escaped me. According to the measure of their impatience, they were either seated or standing. Thomas was seated in the embrasure of a window, with his fowling-piece between his legs. He was at that period a fine, handsome fellow, brimming over with loyalty, courage and ingenuousness, with a cool head and a warm heart. So there they all were relating the episode of the Odyssey of the Hôtel de Ville, and M. Thiers came in while they were discussing the situation.
That morning an article had appeared in theNationalon the arrest of the Duc de Chartres at Montrouge. This article put the whole thing in a perfectly new light. The Duc de Chartres had visited Paris to lay his sword at the dispositionof the Provisional Government, and M. Lhuillier had offered him hospitality. The duke had left Montrouge filled with enthusiasm with regard to the events happening in Paris, and had promised to return with his own regiment.
A few days later, M. Lhuillier was decorated in recognition of this article. It was really written by M. Thiers. The appearance, therefore, of the future minister in the midst of this handful of Republicans was not very auspicious. He had completely revealed his tactics since the previous morning, and was now an Orléaniste. In this new character he was uneasy at the meeting going on above his head, and decided to take the bull by the horns; so he ascended to the first floor and entered, as we have seen, unannounced. A significant murmur greeted his coming, but M. Thiers met it with audacity.
"Messieurs," he said, "the Lieutenant-General wishes to have an interview with you."
"For what purpose?" asked Cavaignac.
"What have we and he in common?" asked Bastide.
"Listen, though, gentlemen," said Thomas.
M. Thiers thereupon fancied he had found a supporter, advanced to Thomas and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Here we have a first-rate colonel," he said.
"Oh! indeed!" replied Thomas, gently shaking his shoulder; "so you are by way of mistaking me for a turncoat?"
M. Thiers withdrew his hand.
"Proceed," said Thomas; "we will listen to you."
M. Thiers then explained the object of the interview.
The Duc d'Orléans wished to further his future political influence, by taking counsel with these brave young fellows whose heroic insurrection had brought about the Revolution of July. According to the statement made by M. Thiers, he should expect them between eight and nine that night at the Palais-Royal. The Republicans shook their heads. To place foot inside the Palais-Royal seemed to them equivalent to entering into compact with the new powers, which was contrary both to their conscience and to their inclinations. But Thomas again came to the aid of the negotiator.
"Look here," he said, rising, "let us prove to them we are all right."
And, laying his gun in the chimney-corner, he said—
"At nine o'clock to-night, monsieur ... you can tell the Lieutenant-General of the kingdom that we will appear in answer to his invitation."
Thereupon M. Thiers went away.
There had been no such thing as an invitation from the Lieutenant-General of the kingdom; that gentleman had not the least desire to see MM. Thomas, Bastide, Chevalon, Grouvelle, Bonvilliers, Cavaignac, Arago and Guinard. M. Thiers had evolved the idea entirely out of his own head, hoping that an interview might conciliate their opinions. It will have been observed, from what he had said to Thomas, that by opinions he meant ambitions.
The Republicans were punctual to their engagement that night. The Duchesse d'Orléans, Madame Adélaide and the young princes and princesses had just arrived, when the Duc d'Orléans was informed that a deputation awaited him in the large Council Chamber. Deputations had succeeded one another all day long, and the salons were still not empty.
So another deputation was no surprise to the prince; though he was surprised by the personnel of this particular one.
M. Thiers was there. As he accompanied His Highness from the salon to the chamber where the gentlemen were awaiting him, he endeavoured to put him into possession of the situation, taking half of the responsibility upon himself, and crediting the Republicans with the remainder. This had occupied nearly a quarter of an hour, during which time the deputation was kept waiting, and it began to find the wait rather long. Then the door suddenly opened, and the duke entered with a smile upon his lips; but it had not time to mount as far as his eyes; his mouth smiled, but his expression was questioning.
"Gentlemen," said the prince, "do not doubt my pleasure in receiving this visit from you—only ..."
Bastide guessed the truth, and looked at M. Thiers.
"You do not understand why we came? Ask M. Thiers to give you the true explanation, and I am sure he will be pleased to make it, if only to save the honour and dignity of the cause we represent."
M. Thiers made some equivocal explanation or other, much embarrassed, which the Duc d'Orléans cut short by saying—
"That will do, monsieur, that will do. I thank you for procuring me the visit of these, our brave defenders."
Then, turning to them, he waited for one of them to begin. Bonvilliers was the first to speak.
"Prince," he said, "to-morrow you will be king."
The Duc d'Orléans made a movement.
"To-morrow, monsieur?" he said.
"Well, if not to-morrow, it will be either in three days' time or a week ... the actual day is of little consequence."
"King!" repeated the Duc d'Orléans after him; "who told you that, monsieur?"
"The steps your partisans are taking; the coercion they are exercising upon affairs, not daring to exercise it openly upon men; the placards with which they have covered the walls; the money they are distributing in the streets."
"I do not know what my partisans may be doing," the duke replied; "but I know I have never aspired to the crown, and even now, although I am being urged by many to accept it, I do not desire it."
"Nevertheless, monseigneur, let us suppose that they will urge you to such an extent that you will not be able to refuse, may we, in that case, ask your views on the treaties of 1815? Pay particular attention to the fact that it is not merely a Liberal revolution that has just taken place, but a national one; it has been the sight of the tricolour flag which has roused the people; we have been firing off the last mine of Waterloo, and it will be easier to drive the people across the Rhine than to Saint-Cloud."[1]
"Gentlemen," replied the duke, "I am too loyal a Frenchman and patriot to be a partisan to the treaties of 1815; but I believe France is tired of warfare; the rupture of treaties means a European war.... Believe me, it is most important to be very circumspect with regard to foreign powers, and there are certain sentiments which should not be expressed too openly."
"Let us then pass on to the aristocracy."
"Very well."
The duke bit his lips like one accustomed to question, who is compelled in his turn to submit to a cross-examination.
"The aristocracy, you will be compelled to agree," continued Bonvilliers, "has no longer any hold on society. The Code, in abolishing the right of primogeniture, of trusts and of entailed estates and by dividing inheritances to perpetuity has nipped aristocracy in the bud, and hereditary nobility has had its day. Perhaps, gentlemen, you are mistaken in this question of heredity, which is, according to my opinion, the sole source of independence underlying political institutions.... A man who is sure of coming in to his father's inheritance need not be afraid of having an opinion of his own, whereas the man to be elected will hold whatever opinions are imposed on him. But it is a question worth consideration, and, if hereditary nobility really crumbles away,I shall not be the one to build it up again at my own expense."
"Prince," Bastide then replied, "I believe in the interest of the crown offered you; it will be as well to call together the Primary Assemblies."
"The Primary Assemblies?" said the duke, shuddering. "Now, indeed, I know that I am conversing with Republicans."
The young men bowed; they had come less in the spirit of allies than of enmity: they accepted instead of rejecting the qualification. Their intention was to define the situation between themselves and the ruling power as clearly as possible.
"Frankly, gentlemen," said the duke, "do you believe a Republic is possible in a country like ours?"
"We think that there is no country where the good cannot be substituted for the bad."
The duke shook his head.
"I thought that 1793 had given France a lesson from which she might have profited."
"Monsieur," said Cavaignac, "you know just as well as we do that 1793 was a Revolution and not a Republic. Besides," he continued, in strong tones and with a clear utterance which did not allow a single syllable of what he said to be lost, "so far as I can recollect, the events which transpired between 1789 and 1793 obtained your entire adhesion.... You belonged to the Society of the Jacobins?"
There was no room for him to shrink back; the veil over the past was rudely torn down, and the future King of France appeared between Robespierre and Collot-d'Herbois.
"Yes, true," said the duke, "I did belong to the Society of the Jacobins; but, happily, I was not a member of the Convention."
"Both your father and mine were, though, monsieur," said Cavaignac, "and both of them voted for the death of the king."
"It is exactly on that account, Monsieur Cavaignac," replied the duke, "that I do not hesitate to say what I have said.... I think that the son of Philippe-Égalité should be permitted to express his opinion upon the regicides. Besides, my father has been grossly calumniated; he was one of the men most worthy of respect that I have ever known!"
"Monseigneur," replied Bonvilliers, who realised that if he did not interrupt the conversation, it would degenerate into mere personalities, "we have still another fear...."
"What is it, gentlemen?" asked the prince. "Oh! say it out whilst you are about it."
"Well, we are afraid (and we have reason for so being), we are afraid, I say, of seeing the Royalists and the priests block the avenues to the new régime."
"Oh! as to those people," exclaimed the prince, with an almost menacing gesture, "set your minds at rest; they have given too many hard knocks to our House for me to forget them! Half the calumnies to which I have referred came from them; an eternal barrier separates us.... It was a good thing for the Elder Branch!"
The Republicans looked at one another in astonishment at the strong feeling, almost amounting to hatred, with which the prince uttered the words, "It was a good thing for the Elder Branch!"
"Well, gentlemen," the prince continued, "have I perchance advanced a truth which was unknown to you, in proclaiming thus openly the difference of principles and interests which have always divided the Younger Branch from the Elder, the House of Orléans from the reigning House? Oh! our hatred does not date from yesterday, gentlemen; it goes back as far as Philippe, the brother of Louis XIV.! It is like the case of my grandfather, the Regent; who was it that slandered him? The priests and the Royalists; for some day, gentlemen, when you have studied historical questions more profoundly, and dug to the roots of the tree you want to cut down, you will realise what the Regent was, and the services he rendered France by decentralising Versailles, and by making money circulate all over the country, to the extreme arteries of social life, as he did by his system of finance. Ah! I only ask one thing: if God calls upon me to reign over France, as you said just now, I hope He will grant me a portion of the Regent's genius!"
He then held forth at length upon the ameliorations to which the Regent's scheme of politics had led in the diplomatic relations of France with Europe; in connection with England, he spoke a few words showing that he should look for the same support from her as his grandfather had received.
"Pardon me, monsieur," Cavaignac said, "but I think a King of France should find his real support in his own country."
The Duc d'Orléans did not evade giving an explanation,but, with his customary facility of elocution, to do him justice, he revealed the system which afterwards gained great celebrity under the name ofJuste milieu.
Cavaignac, to whom he addressed his remarks more particularly, since he had raised the question, listened to the prince's lengthy political propositions with the utmost impassiveness. Then, when he had finished, he said—
"All right, we need not be uneasy; with such a system as that, you will not reign longer than four years!"
The duke smiled dubiously. The Republicans, who had now learnt all they wanted to know, bowed to indicate their wish to withdraw. And the prince, noticing this, returned their bow; but, not wishing to leave them the last word, he said—
"Well, gentlemen, you will come to my way of thinking.... See if you do not!"
"Never!" Cavaignac pronounced sharply.
"Never is too positive a word, and we have an old French proverb which asserts that we must not say it: Fontaine...."
But before he could finish his sentence, the deputation had already reached the door. The duke watched their retreat with a gloomy expression of countenance., This was the first cloud to darken his sun, and it contained all the constituents of the storms that were to overthrow him.
Now that we have seen both men and principles face to face, my readers will, I hope, be better able to follow the events of 5 and 6 June, 13 and 14 April, 12 May and 24 February.