The Revolution of 1830, which deprived Charles the Tenth of the throne
of France, like all other great and sudden changes, proved the ruin of
many individuals, more especially of many ancient families who were
attached to the Court, and who would not desert the exiled monarch in
his adversity. Among the few who were permitted to share his fortunes
was my father, a noble gentleman of Burgundy, who at a former period and
during a former exile, had proved his unchangeable faith and attachment
to the legitimate owners of the crown of France.
The ancient royal residence of Holyrood having been offered, as a
retreat, to his unhappy master, my father bade an eternal adieu to his
country and with me, his only son, then but nine years of age, followed
in the suite of the monarch, and established himself in Edinburgh.
Our residence in Scotland was not long. Charles the Tenth decided upon
taking up his abode at Prague. My father went before him to make the
necessary arrangements; and as soon as his master was established there,
he sought by travel to forget his griefs. Young as I was, I was his
companion. Italy, Sicily, Greece, Turkey, Egypt, and the Holy Land were
all visited in the course of three years, after which time we returned
to Italy; and being then twelve years old, I was placed for my education
in the Propaganda at Rome.
For an exile who is ardently attached to his country there is no repose.
Forbidden to return to his beloved France, there was no retreat which
could make my father forget his griefs, and he continued as restless and
as unhappy as ever.
Shortly after that I had been placed in the Propaganda, my father fell
in with an old friend, a friend of his youth, whom he had not met with
for years, once as gay and as happy as he had been, now equally
suffering and equally restless. This friend was the Italian Prince
Seravalle, who also had drank deep of the cup of bitterness. In his
youth, feeling deeply the decadence, both moral and physical, of his
country, he had attempted to strike a blow to restore it to its former
splendour; he headed a conspiracy, expended a large portion of his
wealth in pursuit of his object, was betrayed by his associates, and for
many years was imprisoned by the authorities in the Castle of San
Angelo.
How long his confinement lasted I know not, but it must have been a long
while, as in after-times, when he would occasionally revert to his
former life, all the incidents he related were for years "when he was in
his dungeon, or in the court-yard prison of the Capitol," where many of
his ancestors had dictated laws to nations.
At last the Prince was restored to freedom, but captivity had made no
alteration in his feelings or sentiments. His love for his country, and
his desire for its regeneration, were as strong as ever, and he very
soon placed himself at the head of the Carbonari, a sect which, years
afterwards, was rendered illustrious by the constancy and sufferings of
a Maroncelli, a Silvio Pellico, and many others.
The Prince was again detected and arrested, but he was not thrown into
prison. The government had been much weakened and the well-known
opinions and liberality of the Prince had rendered him so popular with
the Trasteverini, or northern inhabitants of the Tiber, that policy
forbade either his captivity or destruction. He was sentenced to be
banished for (I think) ten years.
During his long banishment, the Prince Seravalle wandered over various
portions of the globe, and at last found himself in Mexico. After a
residence at Vera Cruz, he travelled into the interior, to examine the
remains of the ancient cities of the Western World; and impelled by his
thirst for knowledge and love of adventure, he at last arrived on the
western coast of America, and passing through California, fell in with
the Shoshones, or Snake Indians, occupying a large territory extending
from the Pacific to nearly the feet of the Rocky Mountains. Pleased
with the manners and customs and native nobility of this tribe of
Indians, the Prince remained with them for a considerable time, and
eventually decided that he would return once more to his country, now
that his term of banishment had expired; not to resettle in an
ungrateful land, but to collect his property and return to the
Shoshones, to employ it for their benefit and advancement.
There was, perhaps, another feeling, even more powerful, which induced
the Prince Seravalle to return to the Indians with whom he had lived so
long. I refer to the charms and attraction which a wild life offers to
the man of civilisation, more particularly when he has discovered how
hollow and heartless we become under refinement.
Not one Indian who has been brought up at school, and among the
pleasures and luxuries of a great city, has ever wished to make his
dwelling among the pale faces; while, on the contrary, many thousands of
white men, from the highest to the lowest stations in civilisation, have
embraced the life of the savage, remaining with and dying among them,
although they might have accumulated wealth, and returned to their own
country.
This appears strange, but it is nevertheless true. Any intelligent
traveller, who has remained a few weeks in the wigwams of well-disposed
Indians, will acknowledge that the feeling was strong upon him even
during so short a residence. What must it then be on those who have
resided with the Indians for years?
It was shortly after the Prince's return to Italy to fulfil his
benevolent intentions, that my father renewed his old friendship--a
friendship of early years, so strong that their adverse politics could
not weaken it. The Prince was then at Leghorn; he had purchased a
vessel, loaded it with implements of agriculture and various branches of
the domestic arts; he had procured some old pieces of artillery, a large
quantity of carabines from Liege, gunpowder, etcetera; materials for
building a good house, and a few articles of ornament and luxury. His
large estates were all sold to meet these extraordinary expenses. He
had also engaged masons, smiths, and carpenters, and he was to be
accompanied by some of his former tenants, who well understood the
cultivation of the olive-tree and vine.
It was in the autumn of 1833 when he was nearly ready to start, that he
fell in with my father, told him his adventures and his future plans,
and asked him to accompany him. My father, who was tired and disgusted
with every thing, blase au fond, met the Prince more than half way.
Our property in France had all been disposed of at a great sacrifice at
the time of the Revolution. All my father possessed was in money and
jewels. He resolved to risk all, and to settle with the Prince in this
far distant land. Several additions were consequently made to the cargo
and to the members composing the expedition.
Two priests had already engaged to act as missionaries. Anxious for my
education, my father provided an extensive library, and paid a large sum
to the Prior of a Dominican convent to permit the departure with us of
another worthy man, who was well able to superintend my education. Two
of the three religious men who had thus formed our expedition had been
great travellers, and had already carried the standard of the cross east
of the Ganges in the Thibetian and Burman empires.
In order to avoid any difficulties from the government, the Prince
Seravalle had taken the precaution to clear the vessel out for
Guatemala, and the people at Leghorn fully believed that such was his
object. But Guatemala and Acapulco were left a long way south of us
before we arrived at our destination.
At last every thing was prepared. I was sent for from the Propaganda--
the stock of wines, etcetera, were the last articles which were shipped,
and the Esmeralda started on her tedious, and by no means certain
voyage.