On the 24th of September, 1796, the Duke of Orleans embarked at Hamburg in an American vessel, "The America," then a regular packet plying between that port and Philadelphia. Still retaining his incognito, he represented himself as a Dane, and obtained Danish passports. He paid thirty-five guineas for his passage, and took with him his ever-faithful servant Baudoin, for whom he paid seventeen and a half guineas. A favorable passage of twenty-seven days landed them at Philadelphia, on the 21st of October, 1796.
Sufferings of the young princes.
We have not space here to describe the cruel sufferings of the two younger brothers of Louis Philippe during their captivity. The elder of the two, the Duke of Montpensier, was but seventeen years of age; the younger, Count Beaujolais, was but thirteen. The brothers were confined separately, in dark, fetid dungeons, and were not allowed any communication with each other. The health of Beaujolais soon began to suffer, and it was evident that he must die unless he could have fresh air. The Duke of Montpensier writes, in his touching autobiography:
"My brother Beaujolais was consequently permitted to spend two or three hours each day in the open air, and was then remanded to his dungeon. His cell being above mine, he was obliged to pass my door on his way out, and he never failed to call out, 'Good-day, Montpensier; how are you?' It is impossible to describe the effect his gentle voice had upon me, or the distress I felt when a day passed without my hearing it; for he was sometimes actually forbidden to utter these words, and was always hurried by so quickly that he had scarce time to hear my answer. Once, however, that he was permitted to remain until my dinner was brought, he kept so close to the heels of the basket-bearer that, in spite of the administrators, who tried to hold him back, he darted into my cell and embraced me. It was six weeks since I had seen him—six wretched weeks. The moment was precious, but how short! He was torn from me forthwith, with threats of being no more allowed to go out should the same scene be repeated. I myself was not afterwards permitted, when my cell door was opened, to go near enough to catch the breeze which passed up the narrow staircase."
Their destitution.
The princes were not allowed to see the public journals, or to receive from their friends any letters which had not been previously examined by their jailers. They were left in entire ignorance of their father's execution until some time after his head had fallen. When the awful tidings were conveyed to them, both of the young princes, weakened by imprisonment and misery, fainted away. The hatred with which they were pursued is evinced by the epithet of wolves' cubs, which was ever applied to them in the clubs of the Jacobins. Eight francs a day were allowed for their support. Their mother had sent to them, for their immediate necessities, twelve thousand francs ($2400); but the magistrates had seized the whole sum. As the weary months rolled on, there were variations in the treatment of the illustrious prisoners—it sometimes being more and sometimes less brutal, but ever marked with almost savage ferocity. After the fall of Robespierre, a decree was passed—
"That the imprisoned members of the Orleans family should have the outer walls of the fort as the limits of their captivity, the privilege of ranging about within those bounds, and in future they were not to be locked up in their cells."
The attempt to escape.
The mother of the princes, the Duchess of Orleans, who had been in close surveillance in the palace of the Luxembourg, in Paris, also experienced very considerable alleviation in the severity of her treatment. From various quarters the captives at length obtained funds, so that their pecuniary wants were supplied. On the 18th of November, 1795, the princes made a desperate but unavailing effort to escape. The breaking of a rope by which Montpensier was endeavoring to let himself down, outside of the walls, precipitated him from a great height to the ground, very seriously breaking one of his legs. He was recaptured, and suffered terribly from mental and bodily anguish. His brother, Beaujolais, having effected his escape, learning of the misfortune which had befallen his brother, returned, with true brotherly love, to voluntary captivity, that he might do something to cheer the sufferer.
Upon the return of Beaujolais, the commandant of the prison said, exultingly, to the Duke of Montpensier, who was writhing upon a bed of bodily suffering and of mental anguish: