Paris, March 1833.
Some newspapers, having repeated the phrase, "Madame, your son is my King!" were indicted in the courts for a press offense; I found myself involved in the proceedings. This time, I could not take exception to the competency of the judges; I had to try to save by my presence the men attacked for my sake; my honour was at stake and I had to answer for my works.
Moreover, the day before my summons before the court, the Moniteur had given the declaration of Madame la Duchesse de Berry[490]; if I had stayed away, they would have thought that the Royalist Party was retreating, that it was abandoning misfortune and blushing for the Princess whose heroism it had celebrated.
There was no lack of timid counsellors who said to me:
"Do not put in an appearance; you will be too much embarrassed with your phrase, 'Madame, your son is my King!'"
"I shall shout it louder than ever," I replied.
I went to the very court where the revolutionary tribunal had formerly been installed, where Marie-Antoinette had appeared, where my brother had been condemned. The Revolution of July has ordered the removal of the crucifix whose presence, while consoling innocence, caused the judge to tremble.
My trial in Paris.
My appearance before the judges had a fortunate effect; it counterbalanced for a moment the effect of the declaration in the Moniteur and maintained the mother of Henry V. in the rank in which her courageous adventure had placed her: men hesitated, when they saw that the Royalist Party dared to face the event and did not consider itself beaten.
I did not want a counsel, but M. Ledru, who had attached himself to me at the time of my imprisonment, wished to speak: he grew disconcerted and gave me great uneasiness. M. Berryer, who represented the Quotidienne, indirectly took up my defense. At the end of the proceedings, I called the jury the "universal peerage," which contributed not a little towards the acquittal of all of us[491].