“ ‘Fool! you, a moujik, teach me what I have to do! Have you got your passport with you? Show it.’
“I pulled from my pocket my pass-ticket, carefully wrapped in a silk handkerchief, after the fashion of all the Russian peasants; but he spared himself the trouble looking at it, and said,—
“ ‘Come to-morrow morning at seven; and if you don’t see me, wait for me. Now, be off with you.’
“I joyfully returned home, and the next morning was punctual at the rendezvous. The man soon perceived me, but only said, ‘Give me the money!’ He went off, but immediately returned, bringing me a yellow ticket, which of course I pretended not to know anything about: a circumstance which occasioned another gracious observation,—‘Hold your tongue moujik, and don’t trouble yourself.’ The bell rang three times, the passengers crowded together, a rough blow from my companion drove me after them, and the ship was in full motion. I thought I was in a dream.”
From Riga, M. Piotrowski, still travelling on foot, soon reached the frontier without difficulty. He had slightly modified his costume, but still kept the distinct garment of a Russian—the little bornous of sheepskin. He called himself a pork merchant, which allowed of his asking on the road all necessary information. Having once ascertained all the obstacles he could possibly encounter on his way from Russia to Prussia, he succeeded in crossing the frontier in open daylight, in spite of the shots fired at him; and taking refuge in a wood, where he cut off his beard, and transformed his costume, leaving behind him all the signs of a Russian peasant, he arrived at last at Kœnigsberg. But when he thought himself all but saved, a circumstance occurred that nearly proved his ruin. He had resolved on journeying by steamer to Elbing, and towards evening he sat down on some ruins, thinking of going at nightfall in the fields to sleep on some hay, while waiting the time for departure; but, quite tired out, he fell asleep, and was woke by a night guard, who, not satisfied with his answers, took him to the first police-station. He at once volunteered the statement that he was a French workman, who had lost his passport, but he was put in prison. A month afterwards he was called again before the police, his statements were proved to be false, and he was clearly allowed to see that the grossest suspicions were afloat concerning him. Tired of concealment, and especially irritated at being taken for a malefactor in hiding, he at last declared himself. A recent treaty between Prussia and Russia obliged these two countries mutually to give up their fugitives. The Prussian authorities on hearing the declaration of M. Piotrowski, were mute with consternation; thinking it quite impossible to elude the convention. But steps were taken by the principal inhabitants of Kœnigsberg, and by many persons of high rank, which Government itself evidently shrank from opposing. M. Piotrowski soon after was informed that an order had come from Berlin, enjoining his being given up to the Russians, but that time would be allowed him to escape at his own risk; and by the help of his generous friends, he was next day on his road to Dantzic.
“I had, he says, letters for different people, in all the towns of Germany I had to cross, and everywhere I found the same zeal to render my journey more comfortable. Thanks to all the help, that failed me in no place, I had very quickly crossed the whole of Germany, and on the 22nd September, 1846, I found myself again in that Paris that I had quitted four years ago.”
ESCAPE OF PRINCE LOUIS NAPOLEON FROM THE FORTRESS OF HAM.
In the summer of 1840, Prince Louis Napoleon, afterwards Emperor of the French, landed with a number of adherents at Boulogne, to assert his claim to the French throne, as the nephew and heir of the first Napoleon. It had been represented to the prince by his friends that the people were everywhere ill-affected, and would rise in insurrection against King Louis Philippe, as soon as any one bearing the great name of Napoleon appeared on the soil of France. Events, however, proved that these councillors were wrong; the people did not rise, and the prince and his followers, to the number of fifty-three, were captured and sent to Paris. After a trial, which attracted the attention of Europe, on account of the eloquence of the advocates on both sides, and the great names and issues concerned, thirty-three of the prisoners were discharged, nineteen received sentences ranging from a few months to twenty years’ imprisonment, and the prince was ordered into close confinement for life.
The sentence was read to his highness in his solitary cell in the Conciergerie at four o’clock in the afternoon of October 26th; and without exhibiting the least emotion, he remarked, “Then I shall at least die on the soil of France.” A few hours afterwards, in speaking of the sentence, he said, “You say perpetual imprisonment; but just as ‘impossible’ used to be a word unknown to the French, so I suspect it will be with the word perpetual in this instance.” It is needless to add that the prince’s prophecy was fulfilled; for instead of lasting for life, his imprisonment endured some five years and nine months, when it came to an end in the manner we shall hereafter relate. It will be necessary to say a few words upon the prison itself, and some of the prince’s fellow-captives, to make the narrative more easily understood.