Louis Philippe

The Duke of Modena received her hospitably, and assigned to her use the palace of Massa, about three miles from the sea. Here, with confidential advisers, she matured her plans. Secret agents were sent to all the principal cities in France, to organize royalist committees and to prepare for a general uprising. The plan was for the insurrection to break out first in the west of France, to be immediately followed by all the southern provinces.

Abolition of the peerage.

While affairs were in this posture, a very curious measure was adopted by the Government, which merits brief notice. The Chamber of Deputies, composed of the bourgeoisie, voted the abolition of the hereditary peerage. This was a constitutional amendment, which needed to be ratified by the Chamber of Peers. But the Peers were not disposed thus to commit suicide. Louis Philippe had been placed upon the throne by the bourgeoisie. The nobles were Bourbonists. He felt constrained to support the measures of his friends. He therefore created, by royal ordinance, thirty-six new peers to vote the abolition of the peerage, and thus the vote was carried.36 A vote was also passed banishing forever from the soil of France every member of the elder branch of the house of Bourbon. These measures, of course, exasperated the friends of the ancient régime, and rendered them more willing to enter into a conspiracy for the dethronement of the Citizen King.

At Massa the duchess had assembled several prominent men to aid her with their advice and co-operation. But, as was to have been expected, these men soon quarrelled among themselves. The brother of the Duchess de Berri was now King of Naples. But he did not dare to afford his sister an asylum, as the French Government threatened, in that case, immediately to send a fleet and an army from Toulon and bombard the city of Naples.

Proclamations and ordinances were prepared, to be widely distributed. A provisional government, to be established in Paris, was organized, on paper, to consist of the Marquis de Pastoret, the Duke de Bellino, the Viscount Chateaubriand, and the Count de Kergarlaz.

Vigilance and severity of the Government.

In the mean time the officers of the Government were watching with the utmost vigilance every movement in the south of France, and punishing with terrible severity, by shooting, bayoneting, and hanging, and often without trial, those who were suspected of being implicated in the anticipated Bourbon uprising. The duchess was much deceived by the flattering reports she was receiving from her friends. Though they correctly described the intense dissatisfaction of the country with the government of Louis Philippe, they greatly exaggerated the numbers and the zeal of those whom they supposed to be ready to rally around the banner of the Bourbons.

A midnight adventure.

The 24th of April, 1832, was fixed for the departure. The utmost secrecy was necessary, as the spies of Louis Philippe were all around. Arrangements had been made for a small steamer, the Carlo Alberto, in the darkness of the night to glide into the harbor, take on board the duchess and her suite, and convey them to Marseilles. It was given out that the duchess was about to visit Florence. At nightfall of the 24th a travelling carriage, with four post-horses, was drawn up before the ducal palace. The duchess, with one gentleman and three ladies, entered, and in the darkness the carriage was rapidly driven a short distance from the gate of Massa, when, upon some pretext, it stopped for a moment beneath the shadow of a high wall. While some directions were given, to engage the attention of the postilion, the duchess, with Mademoiselle Lebeschu and M. de Brissac, glided out of the door unperceived, when the door was shut and the horses again set out upon the gallop for Florence.

The embarkation.

The duchess and her friends stealthily moved along under the shadow of the wall, until they reached a secluded spot upon the sea-shore where the steamer was expected. The major of a body of troops in that vicinity joined them, with a lantern, as a signal to guide the boat from the expected steamer to the shore. Here they remained, in breathless silence and in much anxiety, for an hour. Just as the clocks in the distant churches were tolling the hour of midnight, a feeble light was seen far away over the water. It was the Carlo Alberto, the steamer for which they were waiting. Rapidly it approached; a boat was sent ashore. The Princess Marie Caroline, worn out with cares and anxieties, or – which is the more probable – possessed of that gay, untroubled spirit which no cares could agitate, was wrapped in her cloak and soundly asleep on the sand. Her companions did not awake her till the boat was about to touch the beach. It was three o'clock in the morning. The duchess and her suite, composing a party of seven – Mademoiselle Lebeschu being her only lady attendant – were soon transferred from the shore to the deck of the Carlo Alberto.

All were conscious that the enterprise upon which they had embarked was perilous in the extreme. Its success would greatly depend upon what is called chance. The duchess appeared calm and cheerful, as if determined not to doubt of a triumphant result, and manifestly resolved to wipe from the Bourbon name the charge of pusillanimity which it has so often incurred.

The night storm.

To avoid the French cruisers the Carlo Alberto kept far out to sea, and did not reach Marseilles until midnight of the 28th. The party was to be landed near the light-house, where a rendezvous had been fixed for the small but determined band who were to meet her there. The moment the steamer cast anchor the signal of two lanterns was raised, one at the foremast head and the other at the mizzen-mast head, which signal was instantly responded to from the shore. Dark clouds had gathered in the sky, and the moanings of a rising gale and the dashings of the surge added to the gloom of the hour. The gentlemen who were to accompany Marie Caroline to the shore were dressed in the disguise of fishermen. The sea had become so high that it was with difficulty and peril that the party could embark. At one time the boat was dashed so furiously against one of the paddle-boxes of the steamer that the destruction of all on board seemed inevitable. Through all these trying scenes the fragile, sylph-like duchess manifested intrepidity which excited the wonder and admiration of every beholder. The little skiff which was to convey her to the beach soon disappeared in the darkness of that stormy sea.

The landing at Marseilles.

The landing occurred without accident, and Marie Caroline scaled the rocks, along a path which tried the nerves even of the boldest smugglers, till she reached a temporary hut which had been reared to afford her shelter. The vigilance, however, of the Government police had not been entirely eluded. That very evening the authorities, in some way, received the rumor that the duchess had landed, or was about to land, at Marseilles, to commence the uprising there. Immediate and vigorous preparations were adopted to quell it. The force of every military post was doubled.

The insurrection.

A band of about two thousand of her partisans was the next morning assembled at an appointed rendezvous in the city. They ran up the white banner of the Bourbons upon the spire of St. Laurient, and began shouting vociferously, "Vive Henri Cinq!" – hoping to excite a general insurrection, and that the whole populace of the city would join them. They did create intense agitation, and wonder, and bewilderment. Men, women, and children ran to and fro, and the alarm-bells were violently rung from the steeples. The duchess was still in her hut, waiting for the favorable moment in which to make her appearance. When she saw the Bourbon flag unfurled from St. Laurient, she was deluded by the hope that the success of the enterprise was secured.

But soon the regular troops appeared in solid battalions. The crowd fled before them. A few of the insurgents who attempted to make a stand were dispersed by a bayonet charge, their leaders captured, and the Bourbon flag disappeared! By one o'clock it was all over – the émeute had utterly and hopelessly failed!

Her despairing friends urged her immediately to repair to the steamer, and to take refuge with the Bourbons of Spain. Heroically she replied, "I am in France now, and in France will I remain." We have not space here to enter into the detail of her wonderful adventures, which she seemed to enjoy as if she were merely engaged in a school-girl frolic. Probably she felt assured that if she were taken prisoner, her royal blood, her relationship with the queen, as her niece, and the sympathy of most of the courts of Europe in what they deemed the righteousness of her cause, would save her from any very severe treatment.

Wild adventures.

"Disguised as a peasant-boy, and accompanied by no one but Marshal Bourmont, also in disguise, she set out on foot to walk across France, through fields and by-paths, a distance of four hundred miles, to the department of La Vendée, where the Bourbon party was in its greatest strength. The first night they lost their way in the woods. Utterly overcome by exhaustion, the duchess sank down at the foot of a tree and fell asleep, while her faithful attendant stood sentinel at her side.

"Little Peter."

"There is nothing in the pages of romance more wild than the adventures of this frivolous yet heroic woman. She slept in sheds, encountered a thousand hair-breadth escapes, and, with great sagacity, eluded the numerous bands who were scouring the country in quest of her. At one time, in an emergency, she threw herself upon the protection of a Republican, boldly entering his house, and saying, 'I am the Duchess of Berri: will you give me shelter?' He did not betray her. After such a journey of fifty days, she reached, on the 17th of May, the chateau of Plassac, near Saintes, in La Vendée, where a general rising of her friends was appointed for the 24th. Nearly all the Vendéan chiefs were then awaiting the summons. On the 21st of May, the duchess – still in the costume of a young peasant, presenting the aspect of a remarkably graceful and beautiful boy, and taking the name of 'Little Peter' – repaired on horseback to an appointed rendezvous at Meslier."37

Here her disappointment was bitter. The Government troops were on the alert, fully prepared for any conflict. Her own friends were despairing. There was no enthusiasm manifested to enter upon an enterprise where defeat and death seemed inevitable. Passionately she entreated her friends not to abandon her, delineating the great risks she had run. It was all in vain. No general uprising could be secured. There were a few despairing conflicts, but the feeble bands of the insurgents rapidly melted away before the concentration of the Government troops.

Perilous wanderings.

Still, the duchess herself escaped capture. Accompanied by a single guide, and apparently insensible to hardship or peril, she wandered through the woods, often sleeping in the open air, and occasionally carried upon the shoulders of her attendant through the marshes.

"On one occasion," writes Alison, "when the pursuit was hottest, she found shelter in a ditch covered with bushes, while the soldiers in pursuit of her searched in vain, and probed with their bayonets every thicket in the wood with which it was environed. The variety, the fatigue, the dangers of her life, had inexpressible charms for a person of her ardent and romantic disposition. She often said, 'Don't speak to me of suffering. I was never so happy at Naples or Paris as now.'"38

She took great pleasure in a variety of disguises. Sometimes, in the picturesque costume of a peasant-girl, with coarse wooden shoes on her little feet, she would enter a town filled with Royalist troops, and converse gayly with the gendarmes who guarded the gates. The coasts of France were so watched by Governmental vessels as to render her escape by water almost impossible. She consequently decided to seek a retreat in Nantes, a city in which she had so few adherents that no one would suspect her taking refuge there.

In the disguise of a peasant-girl, with one female companion, she entered the city, and was concealed by a few friends who perilled their lives in so doing. For several months she eluded all the efforts of the Government to find her. In the mean time, the partisans of the duchess were pursued and punished with the most terrible severity. No mercy was shown them. The duchess, from her retreat, kept up a lively correspondence with her friends, still hoping that fortune might turn in her favor. Pleading in behalf of these men, she wrote as follows to her aunt, the queen:

Letter to the queen.

"Whatever consequences may result for me, from the position in which I have placed myself while fulfilling my duties as a mother, I will never speak to you, madame, of my own interests. But brave men have become involved in danger for my son's sake, and I can not forbear from attempting whatever may be done with honor, in order to save them.

"I therefore entreat my aunt, whose goodness of heart and religious sentiment are known to me, to exert all her credit in their behalf. The bearer of this letter will furnish details respecting their situation. He will state that the judges given them are men against whom they have fought.

"Notwithstanding the actual difference in our positions, a volcano is under your feet, madame, as you know. I knew your alarm – your very natural alarm – at a period when I was in safety, and I was not insensible to it. God alone knows what He destines for us, and perhaps you will one day thank me for having had confidence in your goodness, and for having given you an opportunity of exerting it in behalf of my unfortunate friends. Rely on my gratitude. I wish you happiness, madame, for I think too highly of you to believe it possible that you can be happy in your present situation. Marie Caroline."

The letter returned.

This letter was conveyed to the queen at St. Cloud. She probably read it; but it was immediately returned to the bearer, who was in waiting, with the declaration that the queen could not receive it. Five months had now elapsed since the duchess entered Nantes. It is by some supposed that Louis Philippe did not wish to have her arrested. He would be fearfully embarrassed to know what to do with her. It would hardly do to restore her to liberty while her partisans were cruelly punished with death. It was not easy to decide upon the tribunal which would sit in judgment upon her. The peerage would have recoiled with horror from passing judgment upon a princess, who endeavored to gain the throne for a child, who was entitled to that throne by the avowed principles of legitimacy.

A renegade Jew, by the name of Deutz, at length betrayed her. By the most villainous treachery he obtained an interview with the duchess, and then informed the police of the place of her retreat. It was the 6th of November. In the following words Louis Blanc describes the preparations made for her arrest:

Note from Louis Blanc.

The traitor Deutz.

"The first communication between M. Thiers and Deutz took place under the following circumstances: M. Thiers one day received a letter wherein a stranger begged him to repair in the evening to the Champs Elysées, promising to make him a communication of the very highest importance. At the appointed hour he proceeded to the Champs Elysées, with a brace of pistols ready in his coat-pockets. At the spot indicated in the letter he perceived a man standing, who seemed agitated with fear and doubt. He approached and accosted this man. It was Deutz. A conference was opened, which ended in a base crime. The next night, by an arrangement of the police, Deutz was introduced into the office of the Minister of the Interior. 'You can make a good thing of this,' said M. Thiers. The Jew shook with agitation at the idea; his limbs trembled under him, and his countenance changed. The price of the treachery was settled without difficulty."

No sooner had Deutz withdrawn than bayonets glittered in every direction, and commissioners of police rushed into the house, with pistols in their hands. The duchess had barely time to take refuge, with three companions, in a small recess behind the fire-place, which was adroitly concealed by an iron plate back of the chimney. The police commenced a minute search, calling masons in to aid them. The walls were sounded with hammers, articles of furniture moved and broken open. Night came while the search continued. The space in which they were confined was very narrow, with but one small aperture for the admission of air. They barely escaped suffocation by applying their mouths in turn to this hole, but three inches in diameter.

Discovery and arrest.

The gendarmes, fully satisfied that the duchess must be concealed somewhere in the house, took possession of the room and lighted a fire in the chimney, which converted their hiding-place into a hot oven. The heat soon became insupportable. The iron plate had become red-hot. One of the prisoners kicked it down, and said, "We are coming out; take away the fire." The fire was instantly brushed away, and the duchess and her companions, after having endured sixteen hours of almost insupportable torture, came forth in great exhaustion, and yet the duchess almost gayly said, referring to the ancient martyr roasted upon a gridiron,

"Gentlemen, you have made war upon me à la St. Laurent. I have nothing to reproach myself with. I have only discharged the duty of a mother to gain the inheritance of her son."39

Imprisonment at Blaye.

The captive was treated with the respect due to her rank. After a brief confinement at Nantes, she was transferred to the citadel of Blaye, one of the most gloomy of prisons, on the left bank of the Gironde. All the effects of this princess of royal birth, who had entered France as regent, were tied up in a pocket-handkerchief. Measures were apparently adopted to keep her in close captivity, without trial, for a long time. The fortress was thoroughly manned with nine hundred men, and put in a state of defense, as if anticipating a siege. Three gun-boats were stationed in the river. The small building within the walls of the citadel, which was assigned to the duchess, was surrounded with a double row of palisades ten or twelve feet high. The windows were covered with strong iron bars, and even the apertures of the chimneys were closed with an iron grating. Even the gay spirit of the princess was subdued by the glooms in which she was enveloped.

Still, from many eminent men of her own party she received gratifying proofs of fidelity. Chateaubriand issued an eloquent pamphlet which won the applause of the Legitimists throughout Europe. In this he had the boldness to exclaim, "Madame, your son is my king." In a letter of condolence to the princess, in which he offered his professional services in her defense, he said:

"Madame, – You will deem it inconsiderate, obtrusive, that at such a moment as this I entreat you to grant me a favor, but it is the high ambition of my life. I would earnestly solicit to be numbered among your defenders. I have no personal title to the great favor I solicit of your new grandeur, but I venture to implore it in memory of a prince of whom you deigned to name me historian, and in the name of my family's blood. It was my brother's glorious destiny to die with his illustrious grandfather, M. de Malesherbes, the defender of Louis XVI., the same day, the same hour, for the same cause, and upon the same scaffold. Chateaubriand."

The terrible secret.

But a terrible secret was soon whispered abroad, which overwhelmed the princess with shame, and which filled the court of Louis Philippe with joy, as it silenced all voices which would speak in her favor. It became evident that the duchess was again to become a mother. For a princess, the child, sister, and mother of a king, secretly to marry some unknown man, was deemed as great a degradation as such a person could be guilty of. The shame was as great as it would be in New York for the daughter of a millionaire secretly to marry a negro coachman. It consigned the princess to irremediable disgrace. But the situation in which she found herself compelled her to acknowledge her marriage. The universal assumption was that she had not been married. Secrecy divests marriage of its sanctity.

The sufferings through which the princess passed were awful. No pen can describe them. Could she but be released from prison, her shame might be concealed. Her tears and entreaties were all unavailing. Louis Philippe, unmindful that the princess was the niece of his wife, deemed that the interests of his dynasty required that she should be held with a firm grasp until the birth of her child should consign her to ignominy from which there could be no redemption.

On the 22d of February, 1833, the duchess placed in the hands of General Bugeaud, governor of the citadel of Blaye, the following declaration:

The marriage announcement.

"Urged by circumstances, and by the measures ordered by the Government, though I had the strongest reason to keep my marriage secret, I think it a duty to myself and my children to declare that I was secretly married during my residence in Italy."

To a friend, M. de Mesnard, she wrote: "I feel as if it would kill me to tell you what follows, but it must be done. Vexatious annoyances, the order to leave me alone with spies, the certainty that I can not get out till September, could alone have determined me to declare my secret marriage."

Humiliations of the duchess.

The humiliations to which the unhappy duchess was compelled to submit were dreadful. The detail would be only painful to our readers. On the morning of the 10th of May a daughter was born, whom God kindly, ere long, removed to another world. The fact, minutely authenticated, was proclaimed to all Europe. Thus far Marie Caroline had kept secret the name of her husband. But it was now necessary that his name should be given, to secure the legitimacy of her child. It was then announced, by the officiating physician to the group of officials which the Government had placed around her bed, that the father of the child was Count Hector Sucheri Palli, gentleman of the chamber to the King of the Two Sicilies.

Comments of Louis Blanc.

In commenting upon these events, Louis Blanc writes: "The partisans of the new dynasty exulted with indecent zeal at the event of which the ministers had so well prepared the scandal. The Republicans only manifested the contempt they felt for this ignoble triumph. As for the Legitimists, they were overwhelmed with consternation. Some of them, however, still persisted in their daring incredulity; and they did not hesitate to denounce the document, upon which their enemies relied as the denouement of an intrigue which had begun with violence and ended with a lie. Separated from her friends, deprived of their counsels, dead to the world, to the laws, to society, was it possible for Marie Caroline to make any valid deposition against herself, and that, too, surrounded by her accusers, by her keepers, by the men who had vowed her destruction?"

Thus, while one party affirmed that there was no truth in the alleged birth or marriage, the Orleanists declared that the Duchess of Berri had not only given birth to a child of no legitimate parentage, but that the Duke of Bordeaux, who was born seven months after the assassination of the Duke of Berri, was also the child of dishonored birth, and had, therefore, no title whatever to the crown. Such is the venom of political partisanship.

The duchess liberated.

On the 8th of June, Marie Caroline, who could no longer claim the title of Regent of France, but who had sunk to the lowly condition of the wife of an Italian count, was liberated from prison. She had fallen into utter disgrace, and was no longer to be feared. With her child and her nurse, abandoned by those friends who had gathered around the regent, she sailed for Palermo. Her brother, the king, received her kindly, and she was joined by Count Lucheri Palli. Few troubled themselves to inquire whether she were ever married to the count or not. We hear of her no more.

These events broke up the Legitimists into three parties. The one assumed that, under the circumstances, the abdication of Charles X. was not to be regarded as binding; that he was still king, and to him alone they owed their allegiance. The second took the position that, in consequence of the suspicions cast upon the birth of the Duke of Bordeaux, the abdication in favor of the duke was null, and that the dauphin, the Duke de Angoulême, was the legitimate heir to the crown. The third party still adhered to the Duke of Bordeaux, recognizing him as king, under the title of Henry V. Thus terminated in utter failure the Legitimist endeavor to overthrow the throne of Louis Philippe.