This monarch too was the brother of that imbecile, though amiable king, whose passiveness had brought him to the scaffold like a lamb to the slaughter; and he was placed in powerful contrast with him whose grand ambition aspired to make France his court, and the eastern continent (perhaps the world,) his empire. Louis le gros was to occupy the throne of Napoleon the magnificent.
The national pride common to all nations, and the national vanity peculiar to the French, were thus so severely shocked and wounded, that the people could not regard with their characteristic loyalty, or even with toleration, the family whose ascendancy had been established by other hands than those of Frenchmen. Louis the 18th too, had violently aggravated this hostility by the unfortunate declaration that "under God, it was to the Prince Regent of England that he owed his crown." It was not then to be wondered at that the public mind was in a state to be easily exacerbated by any cause, and not to be conciliated by any course however moderate, short of absolute concession to the popular will. Accordingly the measures of Louis the 18th, who was a wise monarch, and really desired the welfare of his people, met with jealous opposition, or at best, with unwilling acquiescence.
The administration of Décazes, which was conducted upon wise and sound principles, was finally clamored down; and the court, finding the people incapable of appreciating the mild and liberal measures of the government, infused more strength into their system.
Charles the 10th, inferior to his brother in mental endowments, and who brought to the throne stricter notions of legitimacy, and less disposition to conciliate his subjects, rather tightened than relaxed the reins of government, and thus increased the disaffection of the people. Add to this the real or fancied attachment of the king to the Jesuits, against whose order ancient odium had been recently revived, and the feelings may easily be conceived which were excited by the menaced blow at the freedom of the press, which was pending at the time of which I write.
These feelings were put forth through the usual vents. The public journals made the most of their liberty while it remained to them, and kept up an incessant fire of various grades; from the grave remonstrances of the "Constitutionnel," to the piquant badinage of the "Drapeau Blanc." The Salons, the Cafés, the Boulevards, the Tuileries, the Champs Elysées and the Pont Neuf exhibited the politicians of their respective meridians, from the "riche banquier" to "Monsieur le tondeur de chiens." The print shops displayed caricatures of the Jesuits. Beranger "showed up" the royal family in his songs. Mars played "Tartuffe" at the Francais, and the "parterre" rapturously applauded her and snapped their fingers at the police.
Early in the month, the annual review by the king, of the regular troops stationed in Paris, was to take place.
By one of those tacit combinations which sometimes unaccountably occur, it was resolved that this review should serve as an occasion for affording an evidence of the sentiments of the people, which though negative in mode, should be sufficiently positive in character. It was determined to withhold from the king those testimonials of attachment and loyalty with which most of the people of Europe are wont to greet their sovereigns when they appear in public. Accordingly when on the expected morning, the king with his brilliant suite issued from the court of the palace, not one of the spectators uttered a sound of welcome. The place of the review was a mile and a half distant, and the route was through populous streets; yet from all the crowd which gradually swelled as the train advanced, not one voice was heard to utter "vive le roi!" No man cried "God save him." A uniform silence pervaded the scene, thus giving it the air of a funeral pageant, rather than of a splendid military display; while at every turn which the royal company made in their progress, this portentous legend inscribed on the walls, met their eyes—
"La silence du peuple est la lecon du Roi."
Proceeding more rapidly and by a nearer route, I reached the Champ de Mars, the scene of the review, in time to witness the king's arrival. The Champ de Mars is a beautiful plain, artificially levelled; a quarter of a mile in breadth, and extending from the Seine to the école militaire, rather more than half a mile in length—bounded on each side by embankments, appearing to the eye like ramparts, which are covered with turf and set with trees.1
1 The Champ de Mars was the scene of the famous "fête de la fédération," which took place in 1790, on the 14th of July, the anniversary of the taking of the Bastile; when the king, the representatives of the people, and the other public functionaries, the commandant of the National Guard, and delegates sent from each of the eighty-three departments of the kingdom, took an oath to preserve the new constitution. A splendid altar, called "l'autel de la patrie," was erected in the middle of the field, around which was an amphitheatre which held four hundred thousand spectators; in the centre of this was the throne of the king. All the people of Paris assisted in making these preparations, that they might be completed by the appointed time. The Bishop of Autun (Talleyrand) was the ministering flamen of the solemnities. At the celebration an incident occurred, illustrating the far seeing sagacity of this man, who thus early discerned the frail and transient nature of that constitution, which its founders had decreed should be "une, indivisible, et impérissable." Lafayette, as commandant of the National Guard, was the first to take the oath; and as he approached the altar for that purpose, Talleyrand in an under tone exhorted him to keep his countenance and not to laugh! thus indicating that he considered the whole scene a solemn farce. I had this anecdote from an American lady to whom Lafayette told it.