CHAPTER V

My mother comes to live with me--A Duc de Chartres born to me--Chateaubriand and M. de Villèle--Epistolary brevity--Re-establishment of the Censorship--A King of France should never be ill--Bulletins of the health of Louis XVIII.--His last moments and death--Ode by Victor Hugo--M. Torbet and Napoleon's tomb--La Fayette's voyage to America--The ovations showered upon him

My mother had been quite as lonely without me as I had been without her, so, in response to my letter, she shut up the tobacco-shop, sold a portion of our shabby furniture, and wrote telling me she was coming to Paris, bringing with her her bedstead, a chest of drawers, a table, two arm-chairs, four chairs and a hundred louis in hard cash. A hundred louis! Why, it was exactly double my year's income and we should now have 2400 francs a year for the next two years, so for that time we should feel quite safe. It was all the more important to be settled since, on 29 July 1824, whilst the Duc de Montpensier came into the world at the Palais-Royal, a Duc de Chartres was born to me at No. 1 place des Italiens. This, together with the smallness of my little yellow chamber, where there was no room for my mother, was one of the reasons that obliged me to look out for fresh lodgings. To find a new home was a serious consideration; lodgings were very dear close to the Palais-Royal, and if I were too far away from the Palais-Royal my four journeys a day, to and fro, meant a serious wear and tear in shoe-leather. Any expense comes heavy on a man who only earns four francs five sous per day.

I had, indeed, two or three plays in hand with de Leuven, but I was compelled to admit to myself that probably de Leuven, who had not managed to succeed with Soulié--whom we acknowledged to be the best of us all--would not have more chance with me. His _Bon Vieillard_ had been declined at the Gymnase; his _Pauvre Fille_ had been rejected by the Vaudeville, and his _Château de Kenilworth_ had not even been read--Mademoiselle Lévêque had politely sent word that she had not "time at the moment" to pay attention to a new part, and the Porte-Saint-Martin had received a melodrama upon the same subject.

So I had to find a lodging, as I have said, that should not be too far away and yet that was not too high a rent. I set to work, and discovered rooms at No. 53 Faubourg St. Denis, in a house adjoining the _Lion d'Argent._ We had two rooms on the second floor looking on the street, one serving for store-room, dining-room and kitchen. We soon found out that for these apartments we paid a great deal too much--they were 350 francs. Finally everything was settled; my mother sent her goods on by carrier, and arrived at the same time they did. We were delighted to be together again once more; my mother, however, was a trifle uneasy and unable to share and believe in all my hopes and plans; for she could look back upon a long and sad life, wherein she had experienced all kinds of disappointments and sorrows. I consoled her to the best of my power, and, in order to make the first four or five days of her life in Paris pleasant, I used all the influence I had with M. Oudard, M. Arnault and Adolphe de Leuven to get her tickets for the theatre. In a week's time we were settled in our little nest, and as accustomed to our new life as though we had never known any other. On the same landing with us, but on the opposite side, lodged a worthy fellow of forty years of age, named Després, who was employed in a ministerial department. He was one of the most regular attenders at the Caveau; he composed songs after the style of Brazier and Armand Gouffé; and he had had one or two pieces played at second-rate theatres. He was dying of consumption. When, after the payment of two terms, we found our lodgings were dearer than we could afford, he said to us--

"Wait until after my death, which will not be long now; then you can take my rooms, which are very convenient, and only two hundred and thirty francs."

And, as a matter of fact, he died six weeks after this--died in that quiet, gentle, calm, philosophical mood that I have noticed in the case of nearly all who were born in the eighteenth century. And, as he had bidden us, we took his rooms when they were vacant, and found ourselves accommodated according to our means.

In the meantime, political changes were taking place. M. de Villèle (whom my friend Méry was to make so celebrated and who, in his turn, also returned the compliment) was sharing political power with M. de Chateaubriand; and for two years they presented the unusual spectacle of an alliance between a financier and a poet. It is easy to believe that such a connection was not likely to last long, and the two ministers quarrelled over two proposed laws. M. de Chateaubriand thought to cement the monarchy by the Act of septennial duration, M. de Villèle thought to enrich the State by an Act concerning the conversion of consols (_rentes_). The law concerning the conversion of consols was rejected by the Chamber of Peers by a majority of 128 votes against 94. It was noticed that M. de Chateaubriand, who seemed opposed to the Act, did not get up to defend it at the Tribune. It was even said that he voted against it. Such opposition as this, directed against the president of the Council, was punished with the callous bluntness of feeling peculiar to men of money.

When M. de Chateaubriand went to mass on Whitsunday, he received information that a very urgent despatch awaited him at the ministry. He immediately went there, and found a letter from the president of the Council in the following terms:--

"M. LE VICOMTE,--I am obeying the King's command in handing you the enclosed mandate."

The mandate enclosed was a dismissal. Ten minutes later, M. de Villèle, in his turn, had received M. de Chateaubriand's reply. The letter of the Minister for Foreign Affairs was just as laconic as the letter received from the Minister of Finance:--

"M. LE COMTE,--I have left the Foreign Office; the department is at your disposal."

There were exactly fifteen words in each letter: it was the fault of the words themselves, and not of M. de Chateaubriand, that the answer[1] contained four letters more.

This dismissal was a very bitter pill for the author of _le Génie du Christianisme_, and it was in connection with this event that he gave utterance to the words which we believe we have already quoted:--

"I hadn't even stolen a watch from the king's mantelpiece!" he had said on leaving the Foreign Office.

The order had been drawn up by M. de Renneville,--to whom we shall refer in due course,--the secretary described by Méry and de Barthélemy as being _sewed to M. de Villèle's coat-tails._

"M. de Renneville," says Chateaubriand in his _Mémoires_, "is still so good as to appear embarrassed in my presence! And, good God, who is this M. de Renneville, that I should ever think of him? I meet him often enough, ... does he happen to know that I am aware that the order striking my name off the list of ministers was in his handwriting?"

There were actually men, under the Empire, who were cowardly enough to cut off their first fingers to prevent their being made soldiers. It is a pity some men are not brave enough to cut off the whole hand before they write certain things.

But at the time when M. de Chateaubriand was being ejected from the ministry, Providence was signing an order, in terms I almost as brusque, for Louis XVIII. to quit this life. The king was ill at the time of the Feast of St. Louis, so ill that he was I advised not to entertain on account of the fatigue it would I entail on him; but, with his usual sententiousness, the king answered, "A King of France may die, but he ought never to be ill."

As though Louis XVIII. wished to leave the path easy for his successor, with regard to the rejection of the appeal of the public ministry in the affair of the _Aristarque_, he revived the law of 31 March 1820 and 26 July 1821--that is to say, he re-established the Censorship. It is an odd coincidence that, when this happens, kings are generally either about to fall or to die. The re-establishment of the Censorship produced a terrible commotion; to do justice to the literary men of that time, none of them dare accept or publicly exercise the function of Censor; a secret commission had to be organised and placed under the presidency of the _conseiller d'État directeur general_ of the police. M. de Chateaubriand then threw himself openly into the Opposition against the measure, and published his _Lettres sur la Censure._ In a few days, both the Liberal Oppositionist and the Royalist papers offered nothing but blank columns to their subscribers.

Two days after Louis XVIII. had said that a King of France might die but he ought never to be ill--that is to say, on 27 and 28 August, during his last two walks at Choisy, he perceived that he must seriously face the question of death. But he continued to give audiences, to preside in the Council and to direct the work of the ministers with a courage one cannot help but admire, when one remembers that he was suffering from mortification of the legs, the cellular tissue, muscles and even bones of which were decayed; the right foot entirely and the lower part of the leg as high as the calf had become mortified, the bones of it were quite soft, and four toes had rotted away. It was not until after a consultation of doctors held the night of 12 September, that it was decided that the condition of the King of France could no longer be concealed from his subjects. Up to that time Louis XVIII. had been faithful to the principles enunciated by him, and had refused to admit that he was ill. "You do not know what it means to tell a people its king is ill. It means they must close the Stock Exchange and places of amusement; my sufferings will be protracted, and I do not want public interests to suffer for such a length of time."

On the morning of 13 September two bulletins appeared at the same time in the _Moniteur_, signed by the doctors and by the First Gentleman of the Chamber.

They announced the illness of the king, and made it very evident that his disease was incurable. At the end of the second bulletin came the command which Louis XVIII. had greatly dreaded, ordering the Bourse and theatres to be closed. These were the first bulletins France had read for half a century--that is to say, since the death of Louis XV.--and they were to be the last they were to read.

_First Bulletin of the King's health_

"THE TUILERIES, 12 _September_, 6 _a.m._ "The King's chronic and long-seated infirmities have become sensibly worse for some time past, his health has been very considerably impaired and his condition necessitates more frequent consultations.

"His Majesty's constitution and the care he has taken of himself had caused hope to be felt for some time that he might be restored to his usual state of health; but the fact cannot now be disguised that his strength has declined considerably and that the hopes entertained are less likely to be realised.

_(Signed)_ PORTAL, ALIBERT, MONTAIGU, DISTEL, DUPUYTREU, THÉVENOT First Gentleman of the King's Chamber

COMTE DE DAMAS"

_Second Bulletin_

"9 _p.m._

"The fever has increased during the day. The lower limbs have become extremely cold: weakness and lethargy have also increased, and the pulse has been very weak and irregular.

_(Signed)_ PORTAL, ALIBERT, MONTAIGU, DISTEL, DUPUYTREU, THÉVENOT First Gentleman of the King's Chamber

COMTE DE DAMAS

"In consideration of the King's state of health, all theatres and places of public amusement, as well as the Bourse, will be closed until further orders, and public prayers will be offered in every parish."

On the 16th, at four o'clock in the morning, Louis XVIII. breathed his last breath. He had blessed the two royal children of France the previous, evening. Then, turning to his brother, the Comte d'Artois, who was about to change his title for that of Charles X., and pointing to the Duc de Bordeaux, he said, "Brother, look well after the crown for that child."

The dying king's fears for his nephew's future were almost prophetic. He had rallied all his remaining strength to utter these last words. His breathing soon became husky and his pulse intermittent, and a crisis was reached during which the king sank into an alarmingly quiet state. At two in the morning, the pulse hardly beat and his voice had completely failed him, although he signified, with his eyes, that he understood, and could still hear, the exhortations of his confessor. Finally, at four o'clock in the morning, when the last sign of life ceased and the body became still for ever, M. Alibert drew one of the king's hands outside the bed-covering and said, "The king is dead." At the words, the Comte d'Artois, who had not left his brother's side for two days, knelt down by the side of the bed and kissed his hand. Madame la Duchesse d'Angoulême and Mademoiselle followed his example; then both flung themselves in the arms of the Comte d'Artois and remained there for some time, weeping bitterly.

As the new king left the death-chamber to return to his apartments, a herald-at-arms exclaimed three times--

"The king is dead, gentlemen! Long live the king!"

And from that moment Charles X. was King of France. On 23 September we watched out of our windows the funeral procession of the last king that was to be taken to Saint-Denis.

Chateaubriand wrote a poem, _le Roi est mort! vive le roi!_ about the death of the king, and it was one of the poorest productions that ever came from his pen.

The same occasion inspired Victor Hugo to publish his _les Funérailles de Louis XVIII.,_ and it was one of his finest odes. I need not ask the forbearance of my readers if I quote a few stanzas:--

"Un autre avait dit: 'De ma race Ce grand tombeau sera le port; Je veux, aux rois que je remplace, Succéder jusque dans la mort. Ma dépouille ici doit descendre! C'est pour faire place à ma cendre Qu'on dépeupla ces noirs caveaux; Il faut un nouveau maître au monde; A ce sépulcre que je fonde Il faut des ossements nouveaux!

'Je promets ma poussière à ces voûtes funestes. A cet insigne honneur ce temple a seul des droits; Car je veux que le ver qui rongera mes restes Ait déjà dévoré des rois. Et, lorsque mes neveux, dans leur fortune altière, Domineront l'Europe entière, Du Kremlin à l'Escurial, Ils viendront tour à tour dormir dans ces lieux sombres, Afin que je sommeille, escorté de leurs ombres, Dans mon linceul impérial!'

Celui qui disait ces paroles Croyait, soldat audacieux, Voir, en magnifiques symboles, Sa destinée écrite aux cieux. Dans ses étreintes foudroyantes, Son aigle, aux serres flamboyantes, Eût étouffé l'aigle romain; La victoire était sa compagne, Et le globe de Charlemagne Était trop léger pour sa main!

Eh bien, des potentats ce formidable maître Dans l'espoir de sa mort par le ciel fut trompé. De ses ambitions, c'est la seule peut-être Dont le but lui soit échappé. En vain tout secondait sa marche meurtrière; En vain sa gloire incendiaire En tous lieux portait son flambeau; Tout chargé de faisceaux, de sceptres, de couronnes, Ce vaste ravisseur d'empires et de trônes Ne put usurper un tombeau!

Tombé sous la main qui châtie, L'Europe le fit prisonnier. Premier roi de sa dynastie, Il en fut aussi le dernier. Une île où grondent les tempêtes Reçut ce géant des conquêtes, Tyran que nul n'osait juger, Vieux guerrier qui, dans sa misère, Dut l'obole de Bélisaire A la pitié de l'étranger.

Loin du sacré tombeau qu'il s'arrangeait naguère, C'est là que, dépouillé du royal appareil, Il dort enveloppé de son manteau de guerre, Sans compagnon de son sommeil. Et, tandis qu'il n'a plus, de l'empire du monde, Qu'un noir rocher battu de l'onde, Qu'un vieux saule battu du vent, Un roi longtemps banni, qui fit nos jours prospères, Descend au lit de mort où reposaient ses pères, Sous la garde du Dieu vivant!"

But the poet is too generous towards Napoleon in describing him as "_ce vieux saule battu du vent_" (old weather-beaten willow tree), for at that very moment the authorities in St. Helena having abolished the toll that had at first been exacted from, and submitted to by, visitors to Napoleon's tomb, M. Torbet, the owner of the ground in which the emperor was interred, when he found that he could not gain any more from the body, requested that it should be exhumed and removed elsewhere. There was a long controversy about it, and M. Torbet threatened that he himself would disinter the body of the man who had, notwithstanding what the poet had written, usurped everything, even his own grave, and that he would throw the remains out on the highway, until at last the Government decided that the India Company should purchase the land from Torbet for five hundred pounds sterling. It was decided that in future, in consequence of this _douceur_ given to M. Torbet, people should visit the tomb of Napoleon free of charge. We have already mentioned M. Torbet's name three times: let us say it a fourth, in order that it may not be forgotten.

If anything could make up for such a disgrace to humanity, for such deeds as M. Torbet revelled in, it would be the reception accorded forty years afterwards to la Fayette in America, when that nation sent one of its finest ships, the _Cadmus_, to fetch him to America as the nation's guest. It was indeed a fine sight to see a whole nation rising up to do honour to one of the founders of its liberty.

Directly the two Chambers heard, on 12 January, that la Fayette was contemplating the paying of a visit to the United States, they drew up a resolution, upon the motion of Mr. Mitchell, to the following effect:--

"Seeing that the illustrious champion of our liberty and the hero of our Revolution, the friend and comrade of Washington, Marquis de la Fayette, who was a volunteer general officer during the War of our Independence, has expressed a strong desire to pay a visit to our country, to whose liberty his courage, his blood and his wealth contributed in a very large degree,

"It is resolved, that the President be asked to convey to the Marquis de la Fayette an expression of the feelings of respect, gratitude and affectionate attachment that the Government and the American people harbour towards him, and to assure him that the fulfilment of his desire and intention to visit their country will be received by both people and Government with deep pleasure and patriotic pride.

"It is besides, resolved, that the President shall inform himself as to the time that it would be most agreeable to the Marquis de la Fayette to pay his visit, so that one of the nation's vessels may be offered him as a means of transport."

So, in accordance with this offer, la Fayette embarked at Havre, on board the _Cadmus_, 13 July, and reached New York on 15 August, after a voyage of thirty-two days. No national fête ever did honour to a finer or a more saintly character. When he left North America it had scarcely a population of three millions; now seventeen millions welcomed him. Everything was changed: forests had become plains, plains had become towns, and millions of steam-boats, the first of which had been launched in 1808 by Fulton, after having been refused by France, now plied up and down rivers as big as lakes, and on lakes as big as oceans. Nor were the towns of the artificial kind that Potemkin built along the Catherine Road which crosses the Crimea; modern civilisation was striding across the Atlantic as though it were a stream, to plant its foot for the first time in the New World.

After four months of fêtes given to and honours showered upon the friend of Washington, a special committee brought in a Bill on 20 December as under:--

"That the sum of 200,000 dollars be offered to Major-General la Fayette in recognition of his valuable services, and to indemnify him for his expenses in the American Revolution; also that a portion of land be set aside from the as yet unappropriated lands, for the establishment of a township for Major-General la Fayette, and that this Act be handed him by the President of the United States."

This Bill was carried with enthusiasm by the Chamber of Representatives on 22 December and by the Senate on the 23rd.

We must just mention before we take leave of the year 1824, that, on 2 December, M. Droz and M. de Lamartine were competitors for the Academy, and that M. Droz was elected and M. de Lamartine rejected.

[Footnote 1: In the French original.--TRANS.]