LOUIS PHILIPPE'S THRONE.
1830
The duke at the Hotel de Ville.--Discordant cries.--Decisive action
of Lafayette.--The social contract.--Singular statement.--Support
of the journals.--Endeavors to reconcile the democracy.--The treaties
of 1815.--The duke interviewed.--Interesting statement
of Chateaubriand.--The conversation.--Counsel of
Chateaubriand.--Termination of the interview.--Remonstrance of M.
Arago.--Flattering offers to Chateaubriand.--Speech of Viscount
Chateaubriand.--Resolve passed by the Deputies.--Louis Philippe
chosen king.--Subsequent vote for Napoleon.--Reply of the Duke of
Orleans.--Testimony of Alison.--The inauguration.
By the movement chronicled in the previous chapter, the Duke of
Orleans became virtually dictator. Could his dictatorship be
maintained, it was of course a death-blow to all other parties. The
Republican party, weak as it was if we consider the whole of France,
was strong in the streets of Paris. It was a matter of great moment
to try to conciliate the leaders of that party. It was soon evident
that this would be no easy matter. The proclamation of the duke was
very angrily received in the streets. Loud mutterings were heard.
Those who were distributing the proclamation were fiercely assailed,
and one of the agents narrowly escaped with his life.
At length the bold resolve was adopted for the Duke of Orleans to go
in person to the Hotel de Ville, accompanied by an escort of
Deputies. A throng of Orleanists surrounded the Palais Royal and
cheered the duke as he came out. As the procession advanced,
insulting shouts began to assail their ears. The duke was on
horseback. The Place de Greve was thronged with Republicans. Angry
outcries greeted him. "He is a Bourbon," some shouted; "away with
him! We will have nothing to do with him."
Benjamin Constant and Beranger mingled with the crowd, doing every
thing in their power to appease and calm it. It was feared, every
moment, that some pistol-shot would strike the duke from his horse.
His countenance was pale and care-worn; but there was no visible
perturbation. Having with difficulty forced his way through the angry
crowd, Louis Philippe alighted from his horse and ascended the
stairs. Lafayette, who was already in heart in sympathy with the
Orleanist movement, came forth courteously to meet him, and conducted
him to the great hall of the palace. There was here a very excited
interview, the more passionate of the Orleanists and of the
Republicans coming very near to blows. But Lafayette and the most
illustrious men of the liberal party, seeing no other possible way of
rescuing France from anarchy, now openly espoused the cause of Louis
Philippe.
Lafayette took the Duke of Orleans by the hand, and led him out upon
a balcony, where they were in view of the vast multitude swarming in
the vacant space below. The devotion of the marquis to popular rights
was universally known. He could not, in that tumultuous hour, make
his voice heard. But in the use of action, more expressive than
words, he threw his arms around the neck of the duke in an
affectionate embrace. The best part of the multitude accepted this as
the indorsement of his fitness for the trust, by one in whom they
could confide. It was on this occasion that the following incident
occurred:
"You know," said Lafayette to Louis Philippe, "that I am a
Republican, and that I regard the Constitution of the United States
as the most perfect that has ever existed."
"I think as you do," Louis Philippe replied. "It is impossible to
have passed two years in the United States, as I have done, and not
be of that opinion. But do you think that in the present state of
France a republican government can be adopted?"
"No," said Lafayette; "that which is necessary for France now is a
throne, surrounded by republican institutions. All must be
republican."
"That is precisely my opinion," rejoined Louis Philippe.
After this scene, the duke, immensely strengthened in his position,
returned to the Palais Royal, accompanied by a decided increase of
acclamations. Still there were many murmurs. The people could not
forget that he was by birth an aristocrat and a Bourbon; that he had
taken no part, either by word or deed, in the conflict for the
overthrow of the despotic throne; that, concealed in the recesses of
his palace at Neuilly, he had not shown his face in Paris until the
conflict in which they were shedding their blood was terminated, and
that then he had come merely to assume a crown.
Immediately after the withdrawal of Louis Philippe from the Hotel de
Ville, Lafayette and his friends drew up a programme, or social
contract, in which they endeavored to reconcile republican
institutions with the forms of a monarchy. Lafayette himself took
this contract to the Palais Royal, and submitted it to the duke. He
gave it apparently his candid consent. There were, however,
Legitimists as well as Republicans who had no faith in this union.
The Abbe Gregoire is reported to have exclaimed in disgust, "Good
God, are we then to have both a republic and a king?"
There were yet many dangers to be encountered. The word _king_ had
not been distinctly spoken. And still the supreme power was placed in
the hands of Louis Philippe, the Duke of Orleans. It was necessary to
the more full organization of the government that he should be
recognized as a sovereign. But it was no easy matter to reconcile the
populace of Paris to the idea of placing a Bourbon at the head of the
new government.
"To obviate the unfavorable impression thus produced," writes Alison,
"the Orleans committee prepared and placarded all over Paris a
proclamation not a little surprising, considering that M. Mignet and
M. Thiers were members of it--'_The Duke of Orleans is not a Bourbon;
he is a Valois_.' A remarkable assertion to be made, by historians,
of a lineal descendant of Henry IV., and of the brother of Louis
XIV."
The leading journals had all been won over to the side of the Orleans
party. We would not intimate that any unworthy means had been
employed to secure their support. Such men as Thiers, Guizot, Mignet,
are above suspicion. They doubtless felt, as did Lafayette, that the
attempt to establish a Republic would result only in anarchy; that it
would be impossible to maintain a Republic in a realm where the large
majority of the people were monarchists. Still, it is obvious that
the wealth of a party composed of nearly all the moneyed men in the
kingdom, and whose leader was the richest noble in France, if not in
Europe, was amply sufficient to present very persuasive influences to
secure the support of any journalist who might be wavering. The
result was, that nearly all the periodicals of the kingdom opened
their broadsides against a Republic. They denounced that form of
government as the sure precursor of anarchy, pillage, and a reign of
terror, and as certain to embroil France in another war with combined
Europe.
It was, indeed, greatly to be feared that the foreign dynasties, who
would not allow France to lay aside the Bourbons and place Napoleon
upon the throne, would resist, through the same devotion to the
principles of legitimacy, the "usurpation" of Louis Philippe. To
conciliate them it was necessary for the Duke of Orleans to represent
that he was in sympathy with the hereditary thrones, co-operating
with them in their advocacy of exclusive privilege, and that he was,
providentially, a barrier to whom they owed a debt of gratitude,
arresting France from rushing over to democracy. But the open avowal
of these opinions would rouse the liberal party to desperation
against him.
Notwithstanding all these efforts of the journalists to discredit
republicanism in every possible way, there still remained a
democratic party in Paris among the populace, led by very bold,
impetuous, and determined men. These leaders had great influence with
a portion of the people who could be easily roused to insurrection,
which, however impotent, might still cause the streets of Paris to
run red with blood. It was deemed a matter of much importance to win
over these men. A meeting was arranged between them and the Duke of
Orleans. M. Boinvilliers, a man who understood himself, and who was
entirely unawed in the presence of dignitaries, was the spokesman of
the delegation. His scrutinizing interrogatories embarrassed the duke
exceedingly.
"To-morrow," said M. Boinvilliers, "you are to be king. What are your
ideas upon the treaties of 1815?"
By the treaties which in that year the conquerors of Waterloo formed
at Vienna, Europe was partitioned out among the dynasties, so as to
bind the people hand and foot, and render any future uprising in
behalf of liberty almost impossible. The River Rhine, since the days
of Caesar, had been regarded as the natural boundary between France
and Germany. Large provinces on the French banks of the Rhine were
wrested from France and placed in the hands of Prussia, that, in case
the French people should again endeavor to overthrow the aristocratic
institutions of feudal despotism, the allied dynasties might have an
unobstructed march open before them into the heart of France.
Though the Bourbons, replaced by foreign bayonets, had entered into
this arrangement for their own protection against democracy, still,
the discontent of the French people, in view of the degradation, was
so great that even Charles X. was conspiring to regain the lost
boundary. According to the testimony of his minister, Viscount
Chateaubriand, he was entering into a secret treaty with Russia to
aid the czar in his designs upon Turkey, and, in return, Russia was
to aid France in regaining her lost Rhenish provinces. In reference
to these treaties of 1815 even one of the British quarterlies has
said:
"Though the most desperate efforts have been made by the
English diplomatists to embalm them as monuments of political
wisdom, they should be got under ground with all possible
dispatch, for no compacts so worthless, so wicked, so utterly
subversive of the rights of humanity, are to be found in the
annals of nations."
When the question was asked of Louis Philippe, "What are your ideas
upon the treaties of 1815?" his embarrassment was great. Should he
say he approved of those treaties, all France would raise a cry of
indignation. Should he say that he was prepared to assail them, all
the surrounding dynasties would combine in hostility to his reign.
The reply of the duke was adroit. "I am no partisan to the treaties
of 1815. But we must avoid irritating foreign powers."
The next question was still more embarrassing, for it was to be
answered not only in the ears of this democratic delegation, but in
the hearing of all aristocratic Europe eagerly listening. "What are
your opinions upon the subject of an hereditary peerage?" Still the
duke manifested no little skill in meeting it. He replied:
"In hereditary aristocracy is the best basis of society. But if the
hereditary peerage can not maintain itself, I certainly shall not
endow it. I was once a Republican; but I am convinced that a Republic
is inapplicable to such a country as France."
The interview was unsatisfactory to the delegation, and the members
retired in disgust.[Y]
[Footnote Y: Louis Blanc, i., 359.]
Chateaubriand, with all the ardor of his poetic and religious
instincts, was a Legitimist. As the representative of the old Bourbon
regime, he sought an audience with the duke, hoping to induce him to
decline the crown, and to act in the interests of the expelled
dynasty. In his "Memoires d'Outre Tombe," this illustrious man has
given a minute account of the conversation which took place.
Chateaubriand was received by the Duchess of Orleans, who very
cordially invited him to take a seat near her. Rather abruptly she
commenced the conversation by saying,
"Ah, Monsieur de Chateaubriand, we are very unhappy. If all parties
could unite, we might yet be saved. What do you think about it?"
"Madame," Chateaubriand replied, "nothing is so easy. Charles X. and
Monsieur the Dauphin have abdicated. Henry, the Duke of Bordeaux, is
now king. The Duke of Orleans is lieutenant-general of the realm. Let
him be regent during the minority of Henry V., and all is right."
"But, Monsieur de Chateaubriand," said the duchess, "the people are
very much agitated. We shall fall into anarchy."
"Madame," replied Chateaubriand, "may I venture to inquire of you
what is the intention of the Duke of Orleans? Will he accept the
crown, if it is offered to him?"
The duchess, after a moment's hesitation, added, without replying to
the question, "Reflect, Monsieur de Chateaubriand, upon the evils to
which we are exposed. It is necessary that all good men should unite
in the endeavor to save us from a Republic. You could render great
service as ambassador to Rome, or in the ministry here, should you
not wish to leave Paris."
"Madame is not ignorant," Chateaubriand rejoined, "of my devotion to
the young king and to his mother. Your royal highness could not wish
that I should give the lie to my whole life"--_que je dementisse
toute ma vie_.
"Monsieur de Chateaubriand," replied the duchess, "you do not know my
niece. She is so frivolous. Poor Caroline! But I will send for the
Duke of Orleans. He can persuade you better than I can."
The duke soon entered, in dishevelled dress and with a countenance
expressive of great anxiety and fatigue. After a few words, which
Chateaubriand rather contemptuously records as an "idyl upon the
pleasures of country life," Chateaubriand repeated what he had said
to the duchess.
The duke exclaimed, "That is just what I should like. Nothing would
please me better than to be the tutor and guardian of that child. I
think just as you do, M. Chateaubriand. To take the Duke of Bordeaux
would certainly be the best thing that could be done. I fear only
that events are stronger than we."
"Stronger than we, my lord!" rejoined M. Chateaubriand. "Are you not
esteemed by all the powers? Let us go and join Henry V. Call around
you, outside the walls of Paris, the Chambers and the army. At the
first tidings of your departure all this effervescence will cease,
and every one will seek shelter under your protection and enlightened
power."
The duke was much embarrassed. He seemed to avoid looking
Chateaubriand in the face. With averted eyes he said, "The thing is
more difficult than you imagine. It can not be accomplished. You do
not know what peril we are in. A furious band can launch against the
Chambers with the most frightful excesses; and we have no means of
defense. Be assured that it is I alone who now hold back this
menacing crowd. If the Royalist party be not massacred, it will owe
its life solely to my efforts."
M. de Chateaubriand responded in brave words, which perhaps the
occasion warranted:
"My lord, I have seen some massacres. Those who have passed through
the Revolution are inured to war. The gray mustaches are not
terrified by objects which frighten the conscripts."
These not very courteous remarks, which implied that, though the duke
might be a coward, the viscount was not, terminated the interview.
Chateaubriand, then the most distinguished writer and illustrious
orator in France, had prepared an "accusing and terrible speech," to
be addressed to the Chamber of Peers, pleading the cause of the
vanquished dynasty, and protesting against the Orleans usurpation.
"This news," writes Louis Blanc, "had reached the Palais Royal, which
it threw into the utmost uneasiness. Such a danger was to be averted
at any cost. Madame Adelaide saw M. Arago, and told him that he would
entitle himself to unbounded gratitude if he would see M. de
Chateaubriand and entreat him to forego his intended speech; upon
which condition he should be assured of having his place in the
administration.
"M. Arago called upon the illustrious poet and submitted to him that
France had just been shaken to its inmost centre; that it was
important to avoid exposing it to the risk of too sudden reactions;
that the Duke of Orleans would have it in his power, on becoming
king, to do much for public liberty; and that it became a man like
Viscount de Chateaubriand to abstain from making himself the
mouth-piece of the agitators at the commencement of a reign.
"He ended by telling him that a better means remained to him to serve
his country with advantage, and that there would be no hesitation to
bestow a _portefeuille_ upon him--that of public instruction, for
example. Chateaubriand shook his head suddenly, and replied that, of
all he had just heard, that which most touched his heart was the
consideration of what was due to the interests of France in its
deeply disturbed condition; that he expected nothing, and would
accept nothing upon the ruin of his hopes; but, since his speech
might sow the seeds of rancor in his native land, he would soften
down its tenor. This singular negotiation took place on the eve of
the 7th of August."
The next evening, the 8th of August, there was a meeting of the
Chamber of Peers. In the eloquent speech which M. Chateaubriand made
in advocacy of the old regime, he said;
"A king named by the Chambers, or elected by the people, will ever be
a novelty in France. I suppose they wish liberty--above all, the
liberty of the press, by which and for which they have obtained so
astonishing a victory. Well, every _new_ monarchy, sooner or later,
will be obliged to restrain that liberty. Was Napoleon himself able
to admit it? The liberty of the press can not live in safety but
under a government which has struck its roots deep into the hearts of
men.
"A Republic is still more impracticable. In the existing state of our
morals, and in our relations with the adjoining states, such a
government is out of the question. The first difficulty would be to
bring the French to any unanimous opinion upon the subject. What
right have the people of Paris to impose a government, by their vote,
on the people of Marseilles? What right have they to constrain any
other town to receive the rulers which they have chosen, or the form
of government which they have adopted? Shall we have one Republic, or
twenty Republics? a federal union, or a commonwealth one and
indivisible?
"Charles X. and his son are dethroned, or have abdicated, as you have
heard. But the throne is not thereby vacant. After them a child is
called to the succession; and who will venture to condemn his
innocence? I know that in removing that child it is said you
establish the sovereignty of the people. Vain illusion! which proves
that in the march of intellect our old democrats have not made
greater advances than the partisans of royalty. It were easy to show
that men may be as free and freer under a Monarchy than a Republic.
After all I have said, done, and written for the Bourbons, I should
be the basest of the human race if I denied them when, for the third
and last time, they are directing their steps towards exile."[Z]
[Footnote Z: _Moniteur_, August 3, 1830.]
On the morning of the next day, the 9th, the Chamber of Deputies met
at the Palais Bourbon. It was a very exciting scene, and strong
opposition was manifested against proclaiming the Duke of Orleans
king. After an angry debate the motion was carried, that,
"Considering that the king, Charles X., his royal highness
Louis Antoine, dauphin, and all the members of the elder
branch of the royal family, are at this moment quitting
French territory, the throne is declared to be vacant, _de
facto_ and _de jure_, and that it is indispensably needful to
provide for the same."
The friends of the duke felt that their only hope consisted in
driving the question to an immediate decision. The Chamber of
Deputies had no legal authority to elect a king. M. Fleury demanded
that the electoral colleges should be invoked to elect a new
assembly, with special powers delegated to the Deputies to elect a
king. The demand was not listened to. M. de Corcelles urged that the
question should be submitted to the people, that the voice of
universal suffrage might decide what should be the form of government
for France, and who should be the sovereign. This proposition was
rejected. The venerable Labbey de Pompieres then demanded that the
voters should inscribe their names and their votes in a register.
This they had not courage to do; for, in case of the return of the
Bourbons, they would lose their heads.
"Thus," writes Louis Blanc, "the crown of France was voted as a
simple matter of by-law regulation."
After some amendments of the charter, the vote was taken. It was a
tumultuous scene, and there is some little discrepancy in the number
of votes given as the result of the ballot. Louis Blanc gives the
result as follows:
Number of voters 252
White balls 229
Black balls 33
"Thus," he adds, "229 Deputies, who in ordinary times would have
formed a majority of but two voices, had modified the constitution,
pronounced the forfeiture of one dynasty, and erected a new one."
France contained between thirty and forty million inhabitants. Two
hundred and twenty-nine Deputies, with no delegated authority to do
so, decided upon the form of government for these millions, and chose
their sovereign.
When, several years after, the throne of Louis Philippe was
overthrown, an appeal to universal suffrage re-established the
Empire, and placed the crown upon the brow of Napoleon III. In this
act the voice of the nation was heard. The vote was taken throughout
the eighty-six departments of France, in Algiers, in the army, and in
the navy. The result was as follows:
Affirmative votes 7,844,180
Negative 253,145
Irregular 63,326
---------
Total 8,160,651
The action of the Deputies in choosing Louis Philippe king greatly
exasperated the Democrats. They endeavored to stir up insurrection
in the streets; but the journals were against them, and they had
neither leaders of any repute, organization, or money. A procession,
four abreast, marched through the streets to the Palais Royal, to
inform Louis Philippe of his election by their body to the throne of
France. The newly elected king feelingly replied:
"I receive with deep emotion the declaration you present to me. I
regard it as the expression of the national will; and it appears to
me conformable to the political principles I have all my life
professed. Full of remembrances which have always made me wish that I
might never be called to a throne, and habituated to the peaceful
life I led in my family, I can not conceal from you all the feelings
that agitate my heart in this great conjuncture. But there is one
which overbears all the rest--that is, the love of my country. I feel
what it prescribes to me, and I will do it."
According to Alison, in the Chamber of Peers eighty-nine voted "the
address to the Duke of Orleans to accept the throne, while ten voted
against it." But there was great informality in all these hurried
proceedings. "We will not," writes Lamartine, "enter into the details
of these gradual approaches to the throne during the five days which
preceded the election of one who had no title, by a Parliament which
had no mission, to a royalty which had no rights."[AA]
[Footnote AA: History of the Restoration, vol. iv., p. 489.]
In the same spirit Sir Archibald Alison writes: "Thus did a small
minority, not exceeding a third of either Chamber, at the dictation
of a clique in the antechambers of the Duke of Orleans, dispose
of the crown to a stranger to the legitimate line, without either
consulting the nation or knowing what form of government it
desired."[AB] The two Chambers hurriedly prepared a constitution,
to which Louis Philippe gave his assent. The ceremony of
inauguration--it could scarcely be called coronation--took place with
much pomp, in the Chamber of Deputies, on the 9th of August, 1830.
[Footnote AB: Alison, vol. vi., p. 463.]
"Gentlemen, peers, and deputies," said the Duke of Orleans, "I have
read with great attention the declaration of the Chamber of Deputies
and the adhesion of the peers, and I have weighed and meditated upon
all its expressions. I accept, without restriction or reserve, the
clauses and engagements which that declaration contains, and the
title of King of the French, which it confers upon me." He then took
the following oath:
"In the presence of God, I swear to observe faithfully the
Constitutional Charter, with the modifications contained in
the declaration; to govern only by the laws and according to
the laws; to render fair and equal justice to every one
according to his right, and to act in every thing in no other
view but that of the interest, the happiness, and the glory
of the French people."
The hall resounded with shouts of "_Vive le Roi!_" The new-made
sovereign, with a splendid cortege, retired, to take up his residence
in the Tuileries as King of the French. The Revolution was
consummated. The throne of Louis Philippe was erected.