Chapter III: 22 July 1832

The day after the magnificent fire, one of our bathers, who had returned from Chambéry, entered the room where we met together, saying--

"Messieurs, have you heard the news?"

"No."

"The Duc de Reichstadt is dead."

The Duc de Reichstadt had, indeed, died on 22 July, at eight minutes past five in the morning, the anniversary day on which letters-patent from the emperor had appointed him Duc de Reichstadt, and on which he had learnt of the death of his father the Emperor Napoleon. His last words had been--

"_Ich gehe unter! Mutter! Mutter!_" (I am sinking--Mother! Mother!)

Thus it was that, in a foreign language, the child of 1811 bid adieu to the world!

The inquiries we made concerning the young prince, that pale historic figure which faded from day to day whilst the phantom figure of his father grew bigger and bigger, enable us to give a few details about his brief life and sad death that are perhaps not known.

Victor Hugo, the man to whom one must always turn when it is a question of measuring the giant Napoleon, wrote the poetic history of the young prince in a few strophes. Let us be permitted to quote them. To say we love the exiled poet, comforts our heart; to say that we admire him, assuages our regrets. The tomb is deaf, but, perhaps, exile is even still more dear. Our voice is one that our friends will hear in the grave and in exile. Yesterday, the Duc d'Orléans; to-day, Hugo.

"Mil huit cent onze!--ô temps où des peuples sans nombre
Attendaient, prosternés sous un nuage sombre.
Que le ciel eût dit oui!
Sentaient trembler sous eux les États centenaires.
Et regardaient le Louvre, entouré de tonnerres
Comme un mont Sinaï!

Courbés comme un cheval qui sent venir son maître.
Ils se disaient entre eux: 'Quelqu'un de grand va naître;
L'immense empire attend un héritier demain.
Qu'est-ce que le Seigneur va donner à cet homme
Qui, plus grand que César, plus grand même que Rome,
Absorbe dans son sort le sort du genre humain?'

Comme ils parlaient, la nue éclatante et profonde
S'entr'ouvrit, et l'on vit se dresser sur le monde
L'homme prédestiné!
Et les peuples béants ne purent que se taire;
Car ses deux bras levés présentaient à la terre
Un enfant nouveau-né!"

The child was the King of Rome,--the one who had just died. When his father had shown him on the Tuileries balcony, as Louis XIV. had shown Louis XIV. from the balcony of Saint-Germain, he was the heir to the most powerful crown in existence; at that period, the emperor drew after him in his orbit one half of the Christian population; his orders extended and were obeyed over a space which included nineteen degrees of latitude; and eighty millions of men cried "_Vive Napoleon!"_ in eight different tongues.

But let us return to the poet--

"O revers, ô leçons! Quand l'enfant de cet homme
But reçu pour hochet la couronne de Rome;
Lorsqu'on l'eut revêtu d'un nom qui retentit;
Lorsqu'on eut bien montré son front royal qui tremble
Au peuple, émerveillé qu'on puisse tout ensemble
Être si grand et si petit!

Quand son père eut, pour lui, gagné bien des batailles;
Lorsqu'il eut épaissi de vivantes murailles
Autour du nouveau-né, riant sur son chevet;
Quand ce grand ouvrier, qui savait comme on fonde.
But, à coups de cognée, à peu près fait le monde
Selon le songe qu'il rêvait;

Quand tout fut préparé par les mains paternelles,
Pour doter l'humble enfant de splendeurs éternelles.
Lorsqu'on eut de sa vie assuré les relais;
Quand, pour loger un jour ce maître héréditaire,
On eut enraciné, bien avant dans la terre.
Le pied de marbre des palais;

Lorsqu'on eut, pour sa soif, posé devant la France
Un vase tout rempli du vin de l'espérance ...
Avant qu'il eût goûté de ce poison doré,
Avant que de sa lèvre il eût touché la coupe,
Un Cosaque survint, qui prit l'enfant en croupe,
Et l'emporta tout effaré!"

The story of the poor child can only be made up out of contradictory evidence. Let us borrow from M. de Montbel a letter which tells of the impatience with which the announcement of his birth was waited for in the imperial city of Vienna--

'VIENNA, 26 _March_

"It would be difficult to do justice to the impatience
with which they here expected the news of the delivery
of Her Majesty the Empress of the French. On Sunday the
24th, at ten in the morning, uncertainty was at an end:
the telegraphic dispatch which announced the happy news
was transmitted to the Ambassador of France four days
and one hour after that event, by Major Robelleau, first
aide-de-camp to General Desbureaux, Commandant of the Fifth
Military Division. The report of it soon spread abroad and
caused general joy.

"M. de Tettenborn, aide-de-camp to Prince de Schwartzenberg,
left Paris by day, and, arriving fourteen hours after
Chevalier Robelleau, confirmed the happy news. Finally, a
courier from the French Cabinet arrived on the morning of
the 25th, bearing the official letter by which the Emperor
Napoleon announced the birth to his august father-in-law.
His Majesty's satisfaction was extremely great, and was
shared by the whole Court. The Ambassador of France being at
home indisposed, the first Secretary to the Embassy went to
the palace, was taken to the emperor's cabinet and had the
honour of handing to His Majesty his Master the Emperor's
letter. On that same Sunday, the day chamberlain was sent by
the emperor to the Ambassador of France to congratulate him.
_The ambassador received the congratulations equally of M.
le comte de Metternich,_ and of the whole diplomatic corps.

"To-morrow, there will be a grand drawing-room at the Court
on the occasion of the birth of the King of Rome. Every one
says it will be a very brilliant gathering."

Perhaps it will be interesting to compare the congratulation of M. le comte de Metternich to the Ambassador to France--dated 25 March 1811--with the information given on 31 October 1815 by the same Comte de Metternich, to M. le baron de Sturmer, Commissary to His Imperial and Apostolic Majesty at the Isle of Saint-Helena--

"The allied powers having agreed to take the most particular
measures to render any enterprise on the part of Napoleon
Bonaparte impossible, it has been concluded and decided
between them that he shall be taken to the Isle of
Saint-Helena, that he shall there be entrusted to the care
of the British Government; that the Courts of Austria, of
Russia and of Prussia shall send their agents to reside
there, to make sure of his presence but without being
charged with the responsibility of guarding him; and that
His Most Christian Majesty shall also be invited to send a
French agent to the place of Napoleon Bonaparte's detention.

"In consequence of this decision, sanctioned by special
agreement between the Courts of Austria and Russia, and
Great Britain and Prussia, dated from Paris, 2 August 1815,
His Majesty the Emperor, our august master, has condescended
to appoint you to reside at Saint-Helena in the capacity of
his representative.

"The guarding of Napoleon Bonaparte being specially
entrusted to the British Government, you are not charged
with any responsibility on that head; but you can make
sure of his presence by what means and in what manner you
like in concert with the governor. You must be careful to
be convinced of his existence by the evidence of your own
eyes, and you must draw up an official report, which must be
signed by you and your colleagues and countersigned by the
governor; each of the agents will be expected to submit a
copy of this report every month to his Court, furnished with
their signatures and a countersign from the governor.

"You will take the greatest care to avoid any sort of
communication with Napoleon Bonaparte and the individuals
of his suite. You will positively refuse any overtures they
might seek to set up with you; and, in case they allow
direct approaches, you will immediately report such to the
governor.

"Although you will not be at all responsible for the
guarding of Bonaparte, nor of the persons comprising his
suite, if it comes to your knowledge that they are employing
means to evade or to keep up communications outside, you
will warn the governor without delay.

"Your functions will be confined to those indicated in the
present instructions. You will abstain with most scrupulous
punctiliousness from all solitary action, our positive
intention being that you act in concert with your colleagues
and always in accord with them and with the governor. You
will make use of every opportunity that may present itself
to convey your reports direct to us."

"METTERNICH"

"PARIS, 31 _October_ 1815"

So much for the political view: now let us look at the poetic--

"Oui, l'aigle, un soir, planait aux voûtes éternelles,
Lorqu'un grand coup de vent lui cassa les deux ailes;
Sa chute fit dans l'air un foudroyant sillon;
Tous alors sur son nid fondirent avec joie;
Chacun selon ses dents se partagea la proie:
L'Angleterre prit l'aigle, et l'Autriche l'aiglon.

Vous savez ce qu'on fit du géant historique.
Pendant six ans, on vit, loin derrière l'Afrique,
Sous les verrous des rois prudents,
--Oh! n'exilons personne! oh! l'exil est impie!--
Cette grande figure en sa cage accroupie,
Ployée et les genoux aux dents.

Encor, si ce banni n'eût rien aimé sur terre!
Mais les cœurs de lion sont les vrais cœurs de père;
Il aimait son fils, ce vainqueur!
Deux choses lui restaient dans sa cage inféconde:
Le portrait d'un enfant et la carte du monde,
Tout son génie et tout son cœur!

Le soir, quand son regard se perdait dans l'alcôve,
Ce qui se remuait dans cette tête chauve,
Ce que son œil cherchait dans le passé profond,
Tandis que ses geôliers, sentinelles placées
Pour guetter nuit et jour le vol de ses pensées,
En regardaient passer les ombres sur son front,

Ce n'était pas toujours, sire, cette épopée
Que vous aviez naguère écrite avec l'épée,
Arcole, Austerlitz, Montmirail;
Ni l'apparition des vieilles pyramides,
Ni le pacha du Caire et ses chevaux numides
Qui mordaient le vôtre au poitrail;

Ce n'était pas ce bruit de bombe et de mitraille
Que vingt ans sous ses pieds avait fait la bataille
Déchaînée en noirs tourbillons,
Quand son souffle poussait sur cette mer troublée
Les drapeaux frissonnants penchés dans la mêlée,
Comme les mâts des bataillons;

Ce n'était pas Madrid, le Kremlin et le Phare,
La diane au matin fredonnant sa fanfare,
Les bivacs sommeillant dans les feux étoilés,
Les dragons chevelus, les grenadiers épiques,
Et les rouges lanciers fourmillant dans les piques.
Comme des fleurs de pourpre en l'épaisseur des blés;

Non, ce qui l'occupait, c'est l'ombre blonde et rose
D'un bel enfant qui dort la bouche demi-close,
Gracieux comme l'Orient;
Tandis qu'avec amour sa nourrice enchantée,
D'une goutte de lait au bout du sein restée,
Agace sa lèvre en riant!

Le père, alors, posait les coudes sur sa chaise;
Son cœur plein de sanglots se dégonflait à l'aise;
Il pleurait d'amour éperdu ...

Sois béni, pauvre enfant, tête aujourd'hui glacée,
Seul être qui pouvait distraire sa pensée
Du trône du monde perdu!

***

Tous deux sont morts! Seigneur, votre droite est terrible!
Vous avez commencé par le maître invincible,
Par l'homme triomphant;
Puis vous avez enfin complété l'ossuaire.
Dix ans vous out suffi pour filer le suaire
Du père et de l'enfant!

Gloire, jeunesse, orgueil, biens que la tombe emporte!
L'homme voudrait laisser quelque chose à la porte;
Mais la mort lui dit: 'Non!'
Chaque élément retourne où tout doit redescendre!
L'air reprend la fumée et la terre la cendre;
L'oubli reprend le nom."

I decidedly prefer poetry to politics. Do you not agree with me, dear reader? Now, how did the poor exiled child live and die; the poor eaglet that fell out of its nest? That is what we are going to tell in the following chapters.