As though Louis XVIII. wished to leave the path easy for his successor, with regard to the rejection of the appeal of the public ministry in the affair of the Aristarque, he revived the law of 31 March 1820 and 26 July 1821—that is to say, he re-established the Censorship. It is an odd coincidence that, when this happens, kings are generally either about to fall or to die. The re-establishment of the Censorship produced a terrible commotion; to do justice to the literary men of that time, none of them dare accept or publicly exercise the function of Censor; a secret commission had to be organised and placed under the presidency of the conseiller d'État directeur general of the police. M. de Chateaubriand then threw himself openly into the Opposition against the measure, and published his Lettres sur la Censure. In a few days, both the Liberal Oppositionist and the Royalist papers offered nothing but blank columns to their subscribers.
Two days after Louis XVIII. had said that a King of France might die but he ought never to be ill—that is to say, on 27 and 28 August, during his last two walks at Choisy, he perceived that he must seriously face the question of death. But he continued to give audiences, to preside in the Council and to direct the work of the ministers with a courage one cannot help but admire, when one remembers that he was suffering from mortification of the legs, the cellular tissue, muscles and even bones of which were decayed; the right foot entirely and the lower part of the leg as high as the calf had become mortified, the bones of it were quite soft, and four toes had rotted away. It was not until after a consultation of doctors held the night of 12 September, that it was decided that the condition of the King of France could no longer be concealed from his subjects. Up to that time Louis XVIII. had been faithful to the principles enunciated by him, and had refused to admit that he was ill. "You do not know what it means to tell a people its king is ill. It means they must close the Stock Exchange and places of amusement; my sufferings will be protracted, and I do not want public interests to suffer for such a length of time."
On the morning of 13 September two bulletins appeared at the same time in the Moniteur, signed by the doctors and by the First Gentleman of the Chamber.
They announced the illness of the king, and made it very evident that his disease was incurable. At the end of the second bulletin came the command which Louis XVIII. had greatly dreaded, ordering the Bourse and theatres to be closed. These were the first bulletins France had read for half a century—that is to say, since the death of Louis XV.—and they were to be the last they were to read.
First Bulletin of the King's health
"THE TUILERIES, 12 September, 6 a.m.
"The King's chronic and long-seated infirmities have become sensibly worse for some time past, his health has been very considerably impaired and his condition necessitates more frequent consultations.
"His Majesty's constitution and the care he has taken of himself had caused hope to be felt for some time that he might be restored to his usual state of health; but the fact cannot now be disguised that his strength has declined considerably and that the hopes entertained are less likely to be realised.
(Signed) PORTAL, ALIBERT, MONTAIGU, DISTEL,
DUPUYTREU, THÉVENOT
First Gentleman of the King's ChamberCOMTE DE DAMAS"
Second Bulletin
"9 p.m.
"The fever has increased during the day. The lower limbs have become extremely cold: weakness and lethargy have also increased, and the pulse has been very weak and irregular.
(Signed) PORTAL, ALIBERT, MONTAIGU, DISTEL,
DUPUYTREU, THÉVENOT
First Gentleman of the King's ChamberCOMTE DE DAMAS"
"In consideration of the King's state of health, all theatres and places of public amusement, as well as the Bourse, will be closed until further orders, and public prayers will be offered in every parish."
On the 16th, at four o'clock in the morning, Louis XVIII. breathed his last breath. He had blessed the two royal children of France the previous, evening. Then, turning to his brother, the Comte d'Artois, who was about to change his title for that of Charles X., and pointing to the Duc de Bordeaux, he said, "Brother, look well after the crown for that child."
The dying king's fears for his nephew's future were almost prophetic. He had rallied all his remaining strength to utter these last words. His breathing soon became husky and his pulse intermittent, and a crisis was reached during which the king sank into an alarmingly quiet state. At two in the morning, the pulse hardly beat and his voice had completely failed him, although he signified, with his eyes, that he understood, and could still hear, the exhortations of his confessor. Finally, at four o'clock in the morning, when the last sign of life ceased and the body became still for ever, M. Alibert drew one of the king's hands outside the bed-covering and said, "The king is dead." At the words, the Comte d'Artois, who had not left his brother's side for two days, knelt down by the side of the bed and kissed his hand. Madame la Duchesse d'Angoulême and Mademoiselle followed his example; then both flung themselves in the arms of the Comte d'Artois and remained there for some time, weeping bitterly.