Bloomsbury has been equally honoured with Camberwell and Chelsea in
providing a home for a pretended dauphin of France, and for a dauphin
whose pretensions are not allowed to lapse, although he has himself
sunk into the grave, but are persistently presented before the public
at recurring intervals by his sons. The story which he told, and which
they continue to tell, is a curious jumble of the inventions which
preceded it--a sort of literary patchwork, without design or pattern,
and a flimsy covering either for self-conceit or imposture.
In this case the tale is, that, about September, 1793, Tom Paine, who
was then a member of the National Convention, wrote to England to a
Mrs. Carpenter to bring to Paris a deaf and dumb boy for a certain
purpose. Deaf and dumb boys are not easily procurable, and ladies,
when entrusted with mysterious missions, have an inveterate habit of
communicating them to their personal friends. Mrs. Carpenter knew a Mrs.
Meves, a music teacher, and hastened to inform her of the strange
instructions which she had received from France, and the pair set out
to find a child to suit the requirements of Paine. They failed, and
Mrs. Meves in her chagrin told her husband of their failure. That
worthy, who was then resident in Bloomsbury Square, had a son,
supposed to be illegitimate, living in his house. The lad had been
born in 1785, was about the age required, was in delicate health, and
a burden to his father, and there was no apparent reason why he should
not occupy the precarious position intended for the deaf and dumb boy,
at least until a mute could be found to take his place. Mr. Meves,
therefore, actuated by these ideas, proceeded to France, and, as those
who now bear his name assert, succeeded in procuring an interview with
Marie-Antoinette in her dungeon in the Conciergerie, where he made the
illustrious sufferer a vow of secrecy respecting her son, which he
kept to the latest hour of his existence. And, lest there should be
any doubt about this interview, it is added that many loyalists, both
before and after, penetrated into the gloom of her prison-cell, and
all but one contrived to evade being detected.
At the interview it was agreed that he should introduce the lad, whom
he had brought, into the Temple, and should place him under the care
of Simon, the shoemaker, till a good opportunity occurred to extricate
Louis XVII. The arrangement was no sooner made than it was carried
out. Madame Simon, who was a party to the plot, found the "good
opportunity." The dauphin was removed in the convenient basket of a
laundress--perhaps the same basket which had held Naündorff, and the
unfortunate bastard of Mr. Meves was left in his stead. On reaching
the hotel at which Mr. Meves was staying the rescued prince was
respectably attired, and, having been placed in a carriage by his new
guardian, was escorted by the Marquis of Bonneval as far as the coast
of Normandy. It is not said whether, during the long ride, Mr. Meves
felt a twinge of remorse for his heartless conduct towards the
harmless and delicate child whom he had left in the clutches of Simon;
but, at all events, he is represented as reaching England in safety
with his new charge. The liberated king took up his abode in
Bloomsbury Square, and was adopted as the son of Mr. Meves, who had
better reasons for abiding by the laws of adoption than those of
parentage. At this time he was only eight years and seven months old.
But Mrs. Meves was not so thoroughly satisfied with the result of her
husband's mission as that astute individual was himself disposed to
be; and having learnt that the boy who had passed as her son was a
prisoner in the Temple Tower, hurried off to her friend Mrs. Carpenter
to tell her doleful tale, and to concoct measures for his release. A
renewed search was instituted for a deaf and dumb boy, and one was
found--"the son of a poor woman"--and in the month of January, 1794,
Mrs. Meves procured passports, and proceeded with this boy and a German
gentleman to Holland to the Abbé Morlet. From Holland the Abbé, the
boy, and Mrs. Meves went to Paris, "and the deaf and dumb boy was
placed in certain hands to accomplish her son's liberation at the most
convenient time, but at what precise date such was carried into effect
remains to be ascertained."
It is, however, more than suggested that the worn-out child seen by
Lasne and Gomin, who was so abnormally reticent, was the deaf and dumb
boy; and there is a wild attempt to prove either that he never spoke
at all, or that, if the captive under their care did speak, it must
have been a fourth child who had been substituted for the mute. The
whole tale is unintelligible and incoherent; assertions are freely
made without an iota of proof from its beginning to its end. If we are
to credit the sons of the pretender, the dauphin was educated by Mr.
Meves as a musician, and knew nothing of his origin till the year
1818, when Mrs. Meves declared it to him. In the years 1830 and 1831 he
addressed letters (which were not answered) to the Duchess of
Angoulême, stating the circumstances in which he had been conveyed to
England, but making an egregious blunder as to the date, which his
sons vainly endeavour to conceal or explain. They say, also, that a
very large section of the French nobility had no hesitation in
admitting the royal descent of their father. Thus the Count Fontaine
de Moreau expressed himself convinced that the man before him was the
missing dauphin, after examining with singular interest some blood
spots on his breast, resembling "a constellation of the heavens." The
Count de Jauffroy not only called and wrote down his address--21
Alsopp's Terrace, New Road--but declared his opinion that the British
government was perfectly aware that "at 8 Bath Place, lives the true
Louis XVII." "But, sir," the count went on to say, "the danger lies in
acknowledging you, as from the energy of your character you might put
the whole of Europe into a state of fermentation, as you are not only
King of France in right of your birth, but you are also heir to Maria
Theresa, empress of Germany." His sons add that "Louis Napoleon is
aware, and has been for many years, that the person called 'Augustus
Meves' was the veritable Louis XVII." At the time these words were
penned the Emperor of the French was alive in this country, and a
_Times'_ reviewer not unreasonably said, "If, indeed, the illustrious
exile of Chiselhurst be aware of so remarkable a fact, he will surely
soon proclaim it, together with his reasons for being aware of it.
Aspirants to the throne of France cannot touch him further; and the
triumphant proof of Augustus Meves' heirship to Louis XVI. would not
only confound the councils of Frohsdorff, but it would turn the
grandest legitimist of Europe into little better than a usurper, if,
as was said by the Count de Jauffroy, Augustus Meves must of necessity
not only be the eldest son of St. Louis, but the eldest son of Rudolf
of Hapsburg to boot."
Napoleon passed away, and made no sign; but the sons of Augustus
Meves (who himself died in 1859) show no disposition to under-rate his
pretensions. The elder, who styles himself Auguste de Bourbon, and
upon whom the royal mantle is supposed to have fallen, is not
indifferent to the political changes of the time, and has again and
again endeavoured to thrust his claims to the French throne before the
public. In a letter dated June 17, 1871, he says--"Several articles
have recently appeared respecting the chances of the Comte de Chambord
succeeding to power, in virtue of his right of birth as the eldest
representative of legitimate monarchy. This supposition by many is
admitted; nevertheless, it is a palpable hallucination, for the
representative of legitimate hereditary monarchy by actual descent is
directly vested in the eldest son of Louis XVII. Periodically, the
Comte de Chambord issues a manifesto, basing his right for doing such
as representing, by the right of hereditary succession, the head of
the House of Bourbon. Whenever such appears, duty demands that I
should protest against his pretensions. Great the relief would indeed
be to me could the Comte de Chambord, or any historian, produce
rational argument, or rather documents, to support the supposition
that the son of Louis XVI. and Marie-Antoinette died in the Tower of
the Temple, in June, 1795. Those who believe this with such proof as
is now extant to the general public are under a hallucination. Should,
however, the Comte de Chambord or the fused party base the right of
succeeding to power on the principle of inheriting it by the law of
legitimate succession, I, the son of Louis XVII., should demand a
hearing from France, and in France's name now protest against any
political combinations that have the object in view of acknowledging
the Comte de Chambord as the legitimate heir to the throne of
France.... I owe my origin to the French revolution of 1789; for had
not Louis XVII. been delivered from his captivity in the Temple, I
should have had no existence. Being, then, the offspring of the French
revolution, it is compatible with reason that by restoring the heir of
Louis XVII. as a constitutional king, such would be acceptable alike
to revolutionists and monarchists, and so end that state of alternate
violence and repression which, ever since the revolution of 1789, has
characterised unhappy France." In a still later document, he
says:--"The Comte de Chambord I can recognise as a nobleman, and as
representing a principle acknowledged; but the House of Orleans can
only be looked upon and recognised as disloyal and renegade royalty,
deserving the obliquy of fallen honour, having forfeited its right to
all regal honours." From his lofty perch this strange mongrel king
still awaits the call of France!