Born at St. Cloud, April 13, 1747. Guillotined in Paris,
November 6, 1793.
His tutor was the Comte St. Meurice, and great pains were taken with
his education.
He appears to have inherited the character and disposition of his great
grandfather, the Regent, without the firmness of disposition and great
natural intelligence and perspicuity possessed by that Prince.
In 1769 he married Louise de Bourbon, only daughter of the Duke de
Penthièvre. At the wedding he greatly scandalised the Court by his
behaviour, although his offence was only that natural to a lively young
man. Being accidentally placed on the left, instead of the right, of
the bride, he took a running leap and jumped over her train to reach
the other side.
Soon after his marriage, he entered on a life of wild dissipation,
became a Freemason, declared his admiration for everything English, and
imported horses and jockeys from the other side of the Channel. He
also made every effort to gain popularity with the people. In 1771 he
opposed the decree by which, in the last years of the reign of Louis
XV., the Chancellor Maupeon had suppressed the provincial Parliaments
of France, and was in consequence exiled to his country seat during the
remainder of that King’s reign. Immediately on his accession, Louis
XVI. re-established these Parliaments, and the Duc de Chartres (as he
then was) returned to Court.
When the war broke out between France and England, the young Duke
petitioned that he might act for his father-in-law, the Duke de
Penthièvre, who was Grand Admiral of France. This was refused; he was,
however, given a nominal command in the fleet of Admiral d’Orvilliers.
He was present at the battle of Onessant, where he commanded the
squadron of the blue, under the surveillance of Admiral Lamotte
Picquet, who was really in charge of this portion of the fleet. The
admiral gave an excellent account of the courage and coolness shown by
the Prince when under fire.
The French were victorious, but, owing to the incompetency of
d’Orvilliers, gained no real advantage from the combat.
The fleet returned to Brest, August 2, 1778, and when the Duc de
Chartres reached Paris he was received with so much enthusiasm by the
populace as to excite the apprehension of the Court party and to evoke
an indignant hostility from the Queen.
Shortly afterwards the Duke returned to his duties on the fleet, and
his enemies at Court took the opportunity of his absence to spread
against him the most scandalous libels--amongst others that the Duke de
Penthièvre was persuaded that his son-in-law desired to supplant him
in the post of Grand Admiral, whereas he only desired to act as his
deputy. So well did his enemies work, that when Chartres returned after
a few months’ absence, he was as coldly received by the populace as by
the courtiers. More than this, when he wished to return to the fleet,
his command was taken from him and he was compelled to leave the Navy.
This treatment was rendered the more bitter, as the first intimation he
received of it was in a letter from his avowed enemy the Queen.
From this moment the Duke avoided the Court, although he retained a
friendship for the Comte d’Artois, and the two young Princes were
companions in pleasure. The Queen, who was greatly attached to her
young brother-in-law, used all her influence to draw him away from the
“contagion” of Orleans. She persuaded the King to buy the Château de S.
Cloud from the Duke (it was the favourite residence of the latter), and
although d’Orléans was both furious and chagrined at being compelled
to part with his _château_, he had no alternative but to obey
the order of his sovereign. The huge sum raised to buy this palace
was a serious drain on the exhausted Treasury, and the Queen lived to
bitterly regret her imprudent action. A libel was freely circulated
and believed all over France, on the occasion of the death of the
Prince de Lamballe, only son of the Duke de Penthièvre. It was said
that d’Orleans had poisoned his brother-in-law, in order that his wife
might be sole heiress to the vast fortune of her father. The Queen went
so far as to say publicly she feared a similar fate would soon befall
the Comte d’Artois. Driven from the Court by these outrages, the Duke
d’Orleans’ amiable and _débonnaire_ nature became utterly soured.
In the first Assembly of Notables he became one of the leaders of
the Opposition. On November 19, 1787, when the King proposed to this
Assembly two edicts--one for the creation of a stamp duty, the other
for a graduated loan of 440,000,000 francs--the Duke d’Orleans rose and
boldly questioned the monarch, asking him whether this sitting was “a
bed of justice” or “an open debate.” “It is a royal sitting,” the King
replied. “If that is the case,” answered the Duke, “I protest against
this measure; for I declare that the right of voting taxes only belongs
to the States-General.” Only two other Councillors agreed with the
Duke, and the edicts were immediately carried. Fréteau and Sabatier,
the Councillors in question, were immediately exiled to Iles d’Hyères,
the Duke of Orleans to Villers. This disgrace immensely increased the
Duke’s popularity. He did not return to Paris for a year, and when the
States-General was assembled he was elected deputy for Crespy. During
the solemn procession at Versailles (May 4, 1789), before the opening
of this Assembly, it was noticed with what affectation the Duke sought
to mingle with the ranks of the Deputies of the _Tiers État_.
In the first sittings of the States-General, the Duke pronounced
energetically in favour of the reunion of all the orders. On June
25 he, together with forty-six other noblemen, joined the _Tiers
État_, now the National Assembly; on July 3 he was elected
President, but refused the honour. On the 12th the people, exasperated
by the fall of Necker, carried the busts of Necker and the Duke about
Paris under the leadership of Legendre. It was from the gardens of the
Duke’s house (the Palais Royal) that, two days later, the organised mob
departed to take the Bastille.
Had d’Orléans possessed at this moment sufficient determination and
intellectual force, he might easily have become Lieutenant-General of
the Kingdom, with Necker for his Prime Minister. But he had not enough
courage, nor, possibly, enough ambition to carry out any definite
project; and he drove his partisans, among whom was Mirabeau, to
despair by his hesitating and undecided conduct. He remained a member
of the Extreme Left of the Assembly, but scarcely ever made a public
speech. In October of the same year, the Court party, and also the
_bourgeois_, were so exasperated against the Duke of Orleans, that
Lafayette himself was persuaded to order the Duke out of France. He was
sent to London on an imaginary mission: returned the following summer,
was acclaimed by the Assembly, and renewed his alliance with Mirabeau.
After the flight of Louis XVI., in June 1791, the throne was
temporarily vacant; and again, had the Duke chosen to come forward, his
advances would have been well received by the nation and the Assembly.
He did not dare to do so, and so lost his last opportunity.
The next month the new Constitution ordained that French Princes could
not be elected to any functions by the votes of the people; Orléans,
therefore, publicly renounced all prerogatives or privileges accorded
to Royalty, and declared himself a simple citizen.
At that time there was an attempted reconciliation between the King
and the Duke, which was doubtless sincere on both sides. The new
Minister of Marine, Bertrand de Motteville, arranged that the Duke of
Orleans should be one of the Vice-Admirals in the reorganised fleet.
The project was communicated to Louis XVI., who expressed himself
satisfied, and the Duke was grateful. The King and he, by the medium
of de Motteville, had a private interview, and parted on friendly
terms. The following Sunday (January 1792) the new Admiral came to
the Tuileries to pay homage to the King. It was the dinner-hour, the
table for the King and Queen was already laid, and the room was full of
courtiers. As soon as the Duke appeared, he became the object for the
most opprobrious insults. “Take care of the dishes!” was shouted on all
sides--the insinuation being he was about to put poison in them. He was
pushed about, his feet were purposely trodden on, and as he descended
the stairs several persons spat on his head and clothes. He left in a
state of indescribable rage, believing that the King had enticed him to
the Palace in order to insult him; the King was really innocent of the
whole matter, but sent no message of apology or regret.
From that day Orléans threw himself with energy into the extreme
revolutionary party, and by becoming Danton’s banker drew him away from
the Court party, in whose pay that corrupt politician had for some time
been.
Orléans became Deputy for Paris in the Convention, accepting the name
of Philippe _Égalité_, which title was bestowed upon him on
September 15, 1792. When the King’s trial took place, “_Egalité_”
said Robespierre, “is the only member who has a right to refuse to
vote.” But Orléans thought he would save his own head and his credit
with the Jacobins by condemning his relative. When his name was called,
he said: “Entirely preoccupied by a sense of duty, and convinced that
all those who attempted to reign or have reigned as sovereigns over the
people merit death--I vote for death.” This speech did not have the
expected effect, those who were not indignant being disgusted at it.
On April 6 of the same year the Convention ordered that “all members
of the Bourbon family be detained as hostages”; on the 7th, Orléans
was arrested and conducted to Marseilles. He addressed petition after
petition to the Convention without effect, and was removed to Paris
and imprisoned at the Conciergerie on October 3. Both Queen Marie
Antoinette and d’Orleans simultaneously occupied cells in this prison
for a space of a few days. Two or three weeks after her execution the
Duke was put upon his trial; he defended himself with courage and
coolness, but his fate was sealed in advance. After condemnation he
asked to be executed without delay; and on the same afternoon, four
hours after the trial, he was conducted to the scaffold with five
Deputies, condemned, like himself, as Girondists. He passed by his
former palace on the way to execution, and, pointing to it, exclaimed,
with a gesture of contempt, “How they applauded me once!” When he had
left the cart and mounted the plank of the guillotine he said to the
executioner, “Do not let your fellows pull off my boots until I am
dead, they will come off easier then; make haste! make haste!” These
were his last words.