Aspect of Paris.--Visit to Lafayette.--His demeanour.--His account of
the commencement of the Revolt.--Machinations of the Police.--Character
of Lafayette.--His remarkable expression to General--.--Conversation on
the Revolution of July.--The _Doctrinaires_.--Popular Sympathy in
England and on the Rhine.--Lafayette's dismissal from the command of the
National Guards.--The Duke of Orleans and his Friends.--Military
Tribunals in Paris.--The Citizen King in the Streets.--Obliteration of
the _Fleur-de-lis_.--The Royal Equipage.--The Duke of Brunswick in
Paris.--His forcible Removal from France.--His Reception in
Switzerland.--A ludicrous Mistake.
Dear ----,
During the excitement of the last three days, I had not bethought me of
paying a visit to the Rue d'Anjou: indeed I was under the impression
that General Lafayette was at La Grange, for I had understood that he
only remained at Paris to attend the funeral of Lamarque. There were
rumours of his having been arrested, but these I set down to the
marvel-mongers, who are always busy when extraordinary events occur.
Just at dusk, I heard, by accident, there was still a chance of finding
him in his apartment, and I walked across the river, in order to
ascertain the fact for myself.
What a difference between the appearance of the streets this evening,
and that which they had made on the night of the 5th! Now the bridges
were deserted, the garden was empty, and the part of the population that
was visible, seemed uneasy and suspicious. The rumour that the
government intended to declare Paris in a state of siege, and to
substitute military for the ordinary civil tribunals, was confirmed,
though the measure was not yet officially announced. This act was in
direct opposition to a clause in the charter, as I have told you, and
the pretence, in a town in which fifty thousand troops had just quelled
a rising of a few hundred men, was as frivolous as the measure itself is
illegal. It has, however, the merit of throwing aside the mask, and of
showing the world in what manner the present authorities understand a
government of the people.
A dead calm reigned in the Rue d'Anjou. Apart from the line of
_cabriolets de place_, of which there were but three, not a carriage nor
a human being was visible in the street. Nothing stood before the
_porte-cochère_ of No. 6, a thing so unusual, more especially in
critical moments, that I suspected I had been misled, and that I should
have a bootless walk. The gate was open, and entering without knocking,
I was just turning off the great staircase, to ascend the humbler flight
that leads to the well-known door, that door through which I had so
lately seen so many dignitaries pressing to enter, when the porter
called to me to give an account of myself. He recognised me, however, by
the light of the lamp, and nodded an assent.
I waited a minute or more, after ringing, before the door was opened by
Bastien. The honest fellow let me in on the instant, and, without
proceeding to announce me, led the way through the salons to the
bed-room of his master. The General was alone with the husband of his
grand-daughter, François de Corcelles. The former was seated with his
back to the door as I entered; the latter was leaning against the
mantel-piece. The "_bonsoir, mon ami_," of the first was frank and kind
as usual, but I was immediately struck with a change in his manner. He
was calm, and he held out his hand, as Bastien mentioned my name; but,
although not seated at his table, he did not rise. Glancing my eyes at
him, as I passed on to salute Monsieur de Corcelles, I thought I had
never before seen Lafayette wearing so fine an air of majesty. His
large, noble form was erect and swelling, and that eye, whose fire age
had not quenched, was serenely proud. He seemed prepared to meet
important events with the dignity and sternness that marked his
principles.
A perfect knowledge of these principles, and the intimacy that he had so
kindly encouraged, emboldened me to speak frankly. After a few minutes'
conversation, I laughingly inquired what he had done with the _bonnet
rouge_. The question was perfectly understood, and I was surprised to
learn that, in the present instance, there was more foundation for the
report than is usually the case with vulgar rumour. He gave the
following account of what occurred at la Place de la Bastille.
When the procession halted, and the funeral discourses were being
delivered, the tumult commenced; in what manner, he was unable to say.
In the midst of the commotion, a man appeared on horseback wearing the
dreaded _bonnet rouge_. Some one approached him, and invited him to
repair to the Hôtel de Ville, in short, to put himself again at the head
of the revolt, and offered him a _bonnet rouge_. He took the cap, and
threw it into the mud. After this, he entered his carriage to return
home, when a portion of the populace took out the horses and drew him to
the Rue d'Anjou. On reaching the hotel, the people peaceably withdrew.
You will readily suppose I was curious to learn the opinion of General
Lafayette concerning the events of the week. The journals of the
opposition had not hesitated to ascribe the affair to the machinations
of the police, which, justly or not, is openly accused of having
recourse to expedients of this nature, with a view to alarm the timid,
and to drive them to depend for the security of their persons, and the
maintenance of order, on the arm of a strong government. In the recent
case it had also been said, that aware of the existence of plots, the
ministry had thought it a favourable occasion to precipitate their
explosion, taking the precaution to be in readiness with a force
sufficient to secure the victory.
I have often alluded to that beautiful and gentleman-like feature in
the character of Lafayette, which appears to render him incapable of
entertaining a low prejudice against those to whom he is opposed in
politics. This is a trait that I conceive to be inseparable from the
lofty feelings which are the attendant of high moral qualities, and it
is one that I have, a hundred times, had occasion to admire in
Lafayette. I do not, now, allude to that perfect _bon ton_, which so
admirably regulates all his words and deportment, but to a
discriminating judgment that does not allow interest or passion to
disarm his sense of right. It certainly is a weakness in him not to
distinguish sufficiently between the virtuous and the vicious,--those
who are actuated like himself by philanthropy and a desire to do good,
and those who seek their own personal ends; but this is a sacrifice,
perhaps, that all must make who aim at influencing men by the weight of
personal popularity. Jefferson has accused Lafayette of a too great
desire to live in the esteem of others,[11] and perhaps the accusation
is not altogether false; but the peculiar situation in which this
extraordinary man has been placed, must be kept in view, while we decide
on the merits of his system. His principles forbid his having recourse
to the agencies usually employed by those who loose sight of the means
in the object, and his opponents are the great of the earth. A man who
is merely sustained by truth and the purity of his motives, whatever
visionaries may say, would be certain to fail. Popularity is
indispensable to the success of Lafayette, for thousands now support
him, who, in despite of his principles, would become his enemies, were
he to fall back sternly on the truth, and turn his back on all whose
acts and motives would not, perhaps, stand the test of investigation.
The very beings he wished to serve would desert him, were he to let them
see he drew a stern but just distinction between the meritorious and the
unworthy. Then the power of his adversaries must be remembered. There
is nothing generous or noble in the hostility of modern aristocrats, who
are mere graspers after gain, the most debasing of all worldly objects,
and he who would resist them successfully must win golden opinions of
his fellows, or they will prove too much for him.
[Footnote 11: Was Mr. Jefferson himself free from a similar charge?]
But I am speculating on principles, when you most probably wish for
facts, or, if you must have opinions, for those of Lafayette in
preference to my own. When I ventured to ask him if he thought the
government had had any agency in producing the late struggle, his answer
was given with the integrity and fearlessness that so eminently
characterize the man.
He was of opinion that there was a plot, but he also thought it probable
that the agents of the government were, more or less, mixed up with it.
He suspected at the moment, that the man who offered him the _bonnet
rouge_ was one of these agents, though he freely admitted that the
suspicion was founded more on past experience than on any knowledge of
present facts. The individual himself was an utter stranger to him. It
had been his intention to quit town immediately after the funeral
obsequies were completed, but, added the old man, proudly, "they had
spread a rumour of an intention to cause me to be arrested, and I wish
to save them the trouble of going to La Grange to seek me."
He then went on to tell me what he and his political friends had
expected from the demonstration of public opinion, that they had
prepared for this important occasion. "Things were approaching a crisis,
and we wished to show the government that it must change its system, and
that France had not made a revolution to continue the principles of the
Holy Alliance. The attempt to obtain signs of popular support at the
funeral of Casimir Perier was a failure, while, so great was our success
at this procession in honour of Lamarque, that there must have been a
new ministry and new measures, had not this unfortunate event occurred.
As it is, the government will profit by events. I do not wish to wake
any unjust accusations, but, with my knowledge of men and things, it is
impossible not to feel distrust."[12]
[Footnote 12: It appeared subsequently, by means of a public
prosecution, that Vidocq, with a party of his followers, were among the
revolters, disguised as countrymen. A government that has an intimation
of the existence of a plot to effect its own overthrow, has an
unquestionable right to employ spies to counteract the scheme; but if it
proceed so far as to use incentives to revolt, it exceeds its legitimate
powers.]
While we were conversing, General ----, whom I had not seen since the
dinner of the previous day, was announced and admitted. He stayed but a
few minutes, for, though his reception was kind, the events of the last
week had evidently cast a restraint about the manners of both parties.
The visit appeared to me, to be one of respect and delicacy on the part
of the guest, but recent occurrences, and his close connexion with the
King, rendered it constrained; and, though there appeared no evident
want of good feeling on either side, little was said, during this visit,
touching the "two days," as the 5th and 6th of June are now termed, but
that little served to draw from Lafayette a stronger expression of
political hostility, than I had ever yet heard from his lips. In
allusion to the possibility of the liberal party connecting itself with
the government of Louis-Philippe, he said--"_à présent, un ruisseau de
sang nous sépare_."[13] I thought General--considered this speech as a
strong and a decisive one, for he soon after rose and took his leave.
[Footnote 13: "We are now separated by a rivulet of blood."]
Lafayette spoke favourably of the personal qualities and probity of his
visitor, when he had withdrawn, but said that he was too closely
incorporated with the _juste milieu_ to be any longer classed among his
political friends. I asked him if he had ever known a true liberal in
politics, who had been educated in the school of Napoleon? The General
laughingly admitted that he was certainly a bad master to study under,
and then added it had been intended to offer General ---- a portfolio,
that of the public works I understood him to say, had they succeeded in
overturning the ministry.
This conversation insensibly led to one on the subject of the revolution
of July, and on his own connexion with the events of that important
moment. I despair of doing justice to the language of General Lafayette
on this occasion, and still less so to his manner, which, though cool
and dignified, had a Roman sternness about it that commanded the deepest
respect. Indeed, I do not remember ever to have seen him with so much of
the externals of a great man as on this evening, for no one, in common,
is less an actor with his friends, or of simpler demeanour. But he now
felt strongly, and his expressions were forcible, while his countenance
indicated a portion of that which was evidently working within. You must
be satisfied, however, with receiving a mere outline of what fell from
his lips in an uninterrupted explanation that lasted fully half an hour.
He accused his opponents, in general terms, of distorting his words, and
of misrepresenting his acts. The celebrated saying of "_voici la
meilleure des républiques_" in particular, had been falsely rendered,
while the circumstances under which he spoke and acted at all, had been
studiously kept out of view. It was apropos of this saying, that he
entered into the explanations of the causes of the change of dynasty.
The crisis which drove the cabinet of Charles X. to the extreme measures
that overturned the throne, had been produced by a legislative
combination. To effect their end, nearly every opinion, and all the
shades of opposition, had united; many, even of those who were
personally attached to the Bourbons, resisting their project of
re-establishing the _ancien régime_. Most of the capitalists, in
particular, and more especially those who were engaged in pursuits that
were likely to be deranged by political convulsions, were secretly
disposed to support the dynasty, while they were the most zealously
endeavouring to reduce its power. The object of these men was to
maintain peace, to protect commerce and industry, more especially their
own, and, at the same time, to secure to property the control, of
affairs. In short, England and her liberty were their models, though
some among them had too much good sense to wish to retrograde, as is the
case with a party in America, in order to make the imitation more
perfect. Those who were for swallowing the English system whole, were
called the _doctrinaires_, from their faith in a theory, while the
different shades of dissenting opinions were distributed among all those
who looked more to facts, and less to reasoning, than their credulous
coadjutors. But all were zealous in opposing government under its
present system, and with its palpable views.
You know that the result was the celebrated ordinances, and a rising of
the people. So little was either of these events foreseen, that the
first probably astonished and alarmed the friends of the Bourbons, quite
as much as it did their enemies. The second was owing chiefly to the
courage and zeal of the young men connected with the press, sustained by
the pride and daring of the working classes of Paris. The emergency was
exactly suited to the _élan_ of the French character, which produced the
sympathy necessary to the occasion among the different degrees of
actors. With the movements that followed, those who had brought about
the state of things which existed, by their parliamentary opposition,
had little or nothing to do. Lafayette, himself, was at La Grange, nor
did he reach Paris until the morning of the second day. So far from
participating in the course of events, most of the deputies were
seriously alarmed, and their first efforts were directed to an
accommodation. But events were stronger than calculations, and the
Bourbons were virtually dethroned, before any event or plan could be
brought to bear upon the issue, in either the offensive or defensive.
You are now to imagine the throne vacant, the actors in the late events
passive spectators of what was to follow, and opportunity for a
recurrence to parliamentary tactics. Men had leisure to weigh
consequences. Another political crusade menaced France, and it is
probable that nothing prevented its taking place, but the manifestations
of popular sympathy in England, and on the Rhine. Then there was danger,
too, that the bankers and manufacturers, and great landed proprietors,
would lose the stake for which they had been playing, by permitting a
real ascendancy of the majority. Up to that moment, the mass had looked
to the opposition in the deputies as to their friends. In order to
entice all parties, or, at least, as many as possible, the cry had been
"_la charte_;" and the opposition had become identified with its
preservation. The new Chambers had been convened, and, after the
struggle was over, the population naturally turned to those who had
hitherto appeared in their ranks as leaders. This fragment of the
representation became of necessity the repository of all power.
Lafayette had, thus far, been supported by the different sections of the
opposition; for his influence with the mass to suppress violence, was
looked to as of the last importance, by even his enemies. The very men
who accused him of Jacobinical principles, and a desire to unsettle
society, felt a security under his protection, that they would not have
felt without him. Louis-Philippe, you will remember, made use of him,
until the trial of the ministers was ended, when he was unceremoniously
dismissed from the command of the National Guards, by the suppression of
the office.[14] "It would have been in my power to declare a republic,"
he continued, in the course of his explanations, "and sustained by the
populace of Paris, backed by the National Guards, I might have placed
myself at its head. But six weeks would have closed my career, and that
of the republic. The governments of Europe would have united to put us
down, and the Bourbons had, to a great degree, disarmed France. We were
not in a state to resist. The two successful invasions had diminished
the confidence of the nation, which, moreover, would have been nearly
equally divided in itself. But, allowing that we might have overcome our
foreign enemies, a result I admit to have been possible, by the aid of
the propaganda and the general disaffection, there would have been a foe
at home, that certainly would have prevailed against us. Those gentlemen
of the Chambers to whom a large portion of the people looked up with
confidence, would have thwarted every important measure I attempted, and
were there no other means to prevent a republic, _they would have thrown
me into the river_."
[Footnote 14: The writer has had a hundred occasions to learn, since his
return to America, how much truth is perverted in crossing the Atlantic,
and how little is really known of even prominent European facts, on this
side of the water. It has suited some one to say, that Lafayette
_resigned_ the office of commander-in-chief of the National Guards, and
the fact is thus stated in most of our publications. The office was
suppressed without consulting him, and, it was his impression, at the
instigation of the Allied Powers. Something like an awkward explanation
and a permission to resign was subsequently attempted.]
This last expression is literal, and was twice uttered in the course of
the evening. He then went on to add, that seeing the impossibility of
doing as he could wish, he had been compelled to acquiesce in the
proposal that came nearest to his own views. The friends of the Duke of
Orleans were active, particularly M. Lafitte, who enjoyed a great deal
of his own confidence, and the Duke himself was free in the expression
of the most liberal sentiments. Under these circumstances, he thought it
possible to establish a government that should be monarchical in form,
and republican in fact. Such, or nearly such, is the case in England,
and he did not see why such might not be the case in France. It is true
the English republic is aristocratical, but this is a feature that
depends entirely on the breadth and independence of the constituency.
There was no sufficient reason why France should imitate England in that
essential point, and by erecting a different constituency, she would
virtually create another polity in fact, adhering always to the same
general form.
As respects the expression so often cited, he said his words were
"_voici la meilleure des républics pour nous_;" distinctly alluding to
the difficulties and embarrassments under which he acted. All this time
he made no pretension to not having been deceived in the King, who had
led him to think he entertained very different principles from those
which events have shown to be his real sentiments.
Something was then said of the _état de siége_, and of the intentions of
the government. "I shall go to La Grange in a few days," observed the
General, smiling, "unless they arrest me; there to remain until the 4th
of July, when we shall have our usual dinner, I hope." I told him that
the long fever under which A---- had suffered rendered a change of air
necessary, and that I was making my preparations to quit France
temporarily, on another tour. He pressed me to remain until the 4th, and
when I told him that we might all be shot for sedition under the present
state of things, if we drunk liberal toasts, he laughed and answered,
that "their bark was worse than their bite."
It was near tea when I took my leave, and returned to the Rue St.
Dominique. The streets were gloomy and deserted, and I scarcely met a
single individual, in walking the mile between the two hotels.
There was a wild pleasure in viewing a town in such an extraordinary
state, and I could not help comparing its present moody silence, to the
scenes we had witnessed when the government was still so young and
dependent as to feel the necessity of courting the people. I have
already mentioned to you many of the events of that period, but some of
them have been omitted, and some, too, which quite naturally suggest
themselves, at this moment, when the King has established military
tribunals in his very capital.
On one occasion, in particular, I was walking in the Tuileries, when a
noise attracted me towards a crowd. It was Louis-Philippe taking a walk!
This you will understand was intended for effect--republican
effect--and to show the lieges that he had the outward conformation of
another man. He wore a white hat, carried an umbrella (I am not sure
that it was red), and walked in as negligent a manner as a man could
walk, who was working as hard as possible to get through with an
unpleasant task. In short, he was condescending with all his might. A
gentleman or two, in attendance, could barely keep up with him; and as
for the rabble, it was fairly obliged to trot to gratify its curiosity.
This was about the time the King of England electrified London, after a
reign of exclusion, by suddenly appearing in its streets, walking about
like another man. Whether there was any concert in this coincidence or
not I do not know.
On another occasion, A---- and myself drove out at night to view a
bivouac in the Carrousel. We got ourselves entangled in a dense crowd in
the Rue St. Honoré, and were obliged to come to a stand. While
stationary, the crowd set up a tremendous cry of _Vive le roi!_ and a
body of dismounted cavalry of the National Guard passed the carriage
windows, flourishing their sabres, and yelling like madmen. Looking out,
I saw the King in their midst, patrolling the streets of his good city
of Paris, on foot! Now he has declared us all under martial law, and is
about to shoot those he dislikes.
The _fleur-de-lis_, as you know, is the distinctive symbol of the family
of France. So much stress is laid on trifles of this nature here, that
Napoleon, with his grinding military despotism, never presumed to adopt
one for himself. During the whole of his reign, the coins of the country
were decorated on one side with no more than an inscription and a simple
wreath, though the gradual progress of his power, and the slow degress
by which he brought forward the public, on these points, may yet be
traced on these very coins. The first that were struck bore his head, as
First Consul, with "_République Française_" on the reverse. After a time
it was "_Empereur_," with "_République Française_." At length he was
emboldened to put "_Empire Français_" on the reverse, feeling a true
royal antipathy to the word republic.
During the existing events that first succeeded the last revolution, no
one thought of the _fleur-de-lis_ with which the Bourbons had sprinkled
everything in and about the capital, not to say France. This omission
attracted the attention of some demagogue, and there was a little
_émeute_, before the arch of the Carrousel, with threats of destroying
these ornaments. Soon after, workmen were employed to deface everything
like a _fleur-de-lis_ in Paris. The hotel of the Treasury had many
hundreds of them in large stone rosettes, every one of which disappeared
before the chisel! The King actually laid down his family arms, causing
the brush to be put to all his carriages. Speaking to Lafayette on this
subject, he remarked, pithily--"Well, I told his Majesty I would have
done this before there was a mob, and I would not have done it
afterwards."
The Bourbons usually drove with eight horses, but this king rarely
appears with even six; though that number is not offensive, the other
being the regal style. Some time since, before the approach of the late
crisis, I saw the coachman of the palace, quite early, or before the
public was stirring, exercising with eight. It is to be presumed that
the aspect of things, the pears, and the Duchess of Berri, compelled the
leaders to be taken off.
A day or two after this event, I dined in company with a deputy, who is
also a distinguished advocate, who made me laugh with an account of a
recent freak of another sovereign, that has caused some mirth here. This
advocate was employed in the affair, professionally, and his account may
be depended on.
You know that shortly after the revolution of 1830, the people of
Brunswick rose and deposed their Duke, bestowing the throne, or
arm-chair, for I know not the official term, on his brother. This Duke
of Brunswick is the grandson of him who figured in the wars of the
_old_ revolution, and the son of him who was killed at Quatre Bras. His
grandmother was a sister of George III, and his aunt was the wife of
George IV; the latter being his cousin, his uncle, and his guardian.
The deposed prince retired to Paris, if it can be called retirement to
come from Brunswick here. After some time, the police was informed that
he was busy in enrolling men to make a counter-revolution in his own
states. He was warned of the consequences, and commanded to desist. The
admonition was disregarded, and after exhausting its patience, the
government proceeded so far as to order him to quit Paris. It was not
obeyed.
I must now tell you, that a few years previously the Duke of Brunswick
had visited Paris, and apprehending assassination, for some cause that
was not explained, he had obtained from the police one of its agents to
look out for the care of his person. The man had been several weeks in
this employment, and knowing the person of the contumacious prince, when
it was determined to resort to force, he was sent with the gendarmes,
expressly that he might be identified.
A party, accordingly, presented themselves, one fine morning, at the
hotel which had the honour to contain his Serene Highness, demanding
access to his person, in the name of the police. No one was hardy enough
to deny such an application, and the officers were introduced. They
found the indomitable prince, in his morning gown and slippers, as
composed as if he were still reigning in Brunswick, or even more so. He
was made acquainted with their errand, which was, neither more nor less
than to accompany him to the frontier.
The great-nephew of George III, the cousin and nephew of George IV, the
cousin of William IV, and the Ex-duke of Brunswick, received this
intelligence with a calm entirely worthy of his descent and his
collaterals, treating the commissary of police, _de haut en bas_. In
plain English, he gave them to understand he should not budge. Reverence
for royal blood was at last overcome by discipline, and seeing no
alternative, the gendarmes laid their sacrilegious hands on the person
of the prince, and fairly carried him down stairs, and put him,
dressing-gown, slippers, and all, into a _fiacre_.
It was a piteous sight to see a youth of such high expectations, of a
lineage so ancient, of a duchy so remote, treated in this rude and
inhospitable manner! Like Cæsar, who bore up against his enemies until
he felt the dagger of Brutus, he veiled his face with his handkerchief,
and submitted with dignity, when he ascertained how far it was the
intention of the Minister of the Interior to push matters. M. ---- did
not tell us whether or not he exclaimed, "_Et tu, Montalivet!_" The
people of the hotel manifested a proper sympathy at the cruel scene, the
_filles de chambre_ weeping in the corridors, as _filles de chambre_,
who witnessed such an indecent outrage, naturally would do.
The Duke was no sooner in the _fiacre_ than he was carried out of town,
to a post-house on the road to Switzerland. Here he was put in a
caleche, and transported forthwith to the nearest frontier.
On reaching the end of the journey, the Duke of Brunswick was abandoned
to his fate, with the indifference that marked the whole outrage; or, as
might have been expected from the servants of a prince, who had so
lately shown his respect for rank by sending his own relatives out of
his kingdom, very much in the same fashion. Happily, the unfortunate
Duke fell into the hands of republicans, who, as a matter of course,
hastened to pay their homage to him. The mayor of the commune appeared
and offered his civilities; all the functionaries went forth with
alacrity; and the better to show their sympathy, a young German
traveller was produced, that he might console the injured prince by
enabling him to pour out his griefs in the vernacular of his country.
This bit of delicate attention, however, was defeated by an officious
valet, who declared that ever since his dethronement, his master had
taken such an aversion to the German language, that it threw him into
fits even to hear it! Of course the traveller had the politeness to
withdraw.
While these things were in progress, the Duke suddenly disappeared, no
one knew whither. The public journals soon announced the fact, and the
common conjecture was, that he had returned to Paris.
After several weeks, M. ---- was employed to negotiate an amnesty,
promising, on the part of his principal, that no further movements
against the duchy should be attempted in France. The minister was so far
prevailed on as to say, he could forgive all, had not the Duke
re-entered the kingdom, after having been transported to Switzerland, by
the order of the government, in the manner you have heard. M. ----
assured the minister, _parole d'honneur_, that this was altogether a
mistake. "Well, then, convince me of this, and his Serene Highness shall
have permission to remain here as long as he pleases." "His Serene
Highness, _having never left France, cannot have re-entered it_." "Not
left France!--Was he not carried into Switzerland?" "Not at all: liking
Paris better, he chose to remain here. The person you deported, was a
young associate, of the same stature of the Duke, a Frenchman, who
cannot speak a word of German!"
A compromise was made on the spot, for this was a matter to be hushed
up, ridicule being far more potent, in Paris, than reason. This is what
you may have heard alluded to, in some of the journals of the day, as
the _escapade_ of the Duke of Brunswick.