Claimants to Royalty Part 9

Such was the story given by this claimant to account for his escape from the Temple; but such is the unfortunate habit of these pretenders, in a subsequent account he materially altered the narrative, and instead of being taken away in a bundle of linen, averred that he had been removed in the toy horse itself, which Simon's wife made Ojardias carry downstairs again after he had effected the exchange of children, notwithstanding the remonstrance of some of the officials, under the pretext that she would not have it brought into the room without her husband's consent, and he, when appealed to, refused to allow of its being introduced.

Resuming the story, as given in the _Memoires_, we read, that when the dauphin was removed from his very confined place of imprisonment he was cleansed, purified from the unpleasantness of his Temple captivity, and then put to bed. In the evening he was aroused, removed, and placed in another artificial horse, but this time it was of life size. In the interior of this animal, which in the company of two real horses was harnessed to a cart filled with straw, were placed every convenience and comfort for the rescued prince. This horse was covered with real skin, and in every respect made to imitate a living animal, so that the officers appointed to inspect all pa.s.sing vehicles were in no way suspectful of the deception, and permitted the conveyance and its precious freight to pa.s.s without hindrance, so that the little Duke of Normandy, after all his troubles and mishaps, arrived safely in Belgium, and was delivered into the hands of the Prince de Conde.

Unfortunately De Conde, instead of at once proclaiming the rescue of his youthful king, kept the whole affair mysteriously private, and secretly sent the boy to General Kleber, of all persons in the world!

The revolutionary general accepted the strange trust reposed in him by his opponent, and pa.s.sing off the scion of royalty as his nephew, Monsieur Louis, took him to Egypt with him. Bonaparte was strangely disquieted at the sight of this youth, in whom he foresaw a rival; but the prince was once more carried away, and confided to the care of another republican general, Desaix! This officer made the royal shuttlec.o.c.k his _aide-de-camp_, and took him with him to Italy. After the battle of Marengo the dauphin revisited France, and instead of seeking any of his family's adherents, confided his secret to Lucien Bonaparte, and to Fouche, Napoleon's Minister of the Police. Certainly an eccentric youth, and one whom it was a great waste of time to have rescued from the Temple precincts! Fouche introduced the young prince to Josephine, and the Empress at once recognized him from the scar below the right eye, which Simon had caused with a serviette.

Unfortunately for his peace in France, the young man took part in Moreau's conspiracy, and Pichegru's paper having revealed to Napoleon the fact that Desaix's _aide-de-camp_ was none other than the Duke of Normandy, the youthful conspirator had to fly, and, like most of his rivals for the t.i.tle of dauphin, took refuge in the United States.

The adventures of this claimant in the New World are too marvellous for our pages; and as he prudently suppressed the account of them in the second issue of his _Memoires_, it is not necessary to allude to them any further. In 1815, according to his story, he returned to France, determined to reclaim his rights. His former protector, the Prince de Conde, at once recognized him in private, and introduced him, by means of a curious stratagem, to his sister, the d.u.c.h.ess d'Angouleme. The princess, however, regarding the dauphin as the enemy of her family, because of the terrible avowals which Simon had wrung from him in the Temple, refused to have anything to do with him. Flying from this cruel reception, the repulsed brother, so he averred, had travelled through many foreign lands, including England, when, happening to visit Italy, he was arrested and thrown into prison in the way already narrated.

Thanks to Silvio Pellico's charming prison records, this pretender's story can be continued, and in a more truthful fas.h.i.+on. In the same prison of Ste. Marguerite, where the Italian author was confined, was also held in durance vile the _soi disant_ Duke of Normandy. The two captives became acquainted, and the Frenchman, by this time probably grown a half believer in his own imposture, declaimed so strongly against his "uncle," Louis the Eighteenth, the usurper of his rights, that Pellico appears to have been partly converted, whilst the jailers were quite convinced of the authenticity of the prisoner's claims.

These guardians of the cells had seen so many changes of fortune during the last few years, that it appeared to them by no means improbable that one day their "royal" captive might leave his prison for a throne; having this belief in view, they granted the pretender everything available save freedom.

In 1825, the Austrians, deeming, doubtless, his "Royal Highness" had had sufficient time to disabuse himself of his belief, released him after a captivity of more than six years and a half. The pretender took himself off to Switzerland, where he made some dupes; and in 1826 re-entered France. Grown prudent, however, he concealed his royalty under the name of Hebert, and under that cognomen obtained employment in the Prefecture of Rouen. As Colonel Gustave he appeared in Paris, in 1827, and in the following year rea.s.serted his rights, as the following communication addressed to the Chamber of Peers shows:--

"LUXEMBOURG, 2 _February_, 1828.

"n.o.bLE PEERS,--Organs of justice, it is to your exalted wisdom that the unfortunate Louis Charles de Bourbon, Duke of Normandy, confides his interests. Saved, as by a miracle, from the hands of his ferocious a.s.sa.s.sins, and after having languished for several years in various countries of the globe, he addresses himself to your n.o.ble lords.h.i.+ps.

"He does not reclaim the throne of his father; it belongs to the nation, which alone possesses the right to dispose of it. He only demands from your justice an asylum for his head--which he cannot repose anywhere without peril--and in a country which more than thirty years of exile have not caused him to forget.

"THE DUKE OF NORMANDY."

The only apparent result of this appeal was the proposition made by Baron Mounier to the Chamber, that for the future no pet.i.tion should be received of which the pet.i.tioner's signature had not been legally recognized, and which was not presented by a peer.

Meanwhile his "Royal Highness" was carefully sought for in Belgium and Holland, although he was all the time concealed in Paris. He managed during this epoch to pick up a number of anecdotes and incidents appertaining to the captivity of the royal family in the Temple, and by displaying the ever useful cicatrice over his right eye, and the traces on his knees and wrists of the malady contracted during his slavery under Simon, was enabled to gather together a faithful band of believers, who a.s.sisted him to the full length of their purses. Among other items of testimony, he declared that he had visited Madame Simon on her death-bed at the Hospital of Incurables, where she did really die on the 10th June, 1819, and that she instantly recognized him and wept tears of pity. What, however, he pointed to as the strongest proof of his royalty was the fact, he alleged, that every one who could have testified to his ident.i.ty had been suddenly put out of the way.

He carefully, in fact, utilized the names of such persons as he had been acquainted with during his life, and whose decease had been in any way sudden, or not fully explained. As, for instance, beginning with the famous surgeon Desault, to whose care the dauphin had been entrusted, and who had expired suddenly on the 4th of June, 1795, he intimated that he had been poisoned, because he imprudently declined to accept the subst.i.tuted dumb child as the veritable Duke of Normandy.

In a similar way he accounted for the deaths of several well-known personages whose lives he a.s.serted had been sacrificed on his behalf.

He even went to the extent of a.s.serting that Louis the Eighteenth knew well that he was the veritable dauphin, and that when warmly expostulated with by his nephew, the Duke de Berry, for concealing the fact from the world, had not only excused himself by saying, "Do you not comprehend that this recognition has become impossible, as it would render all existing treaties invalid and imperil the general peace?"

but had even added significantly, "Take care of yourself, Berry!" And within a fortnight De Berry fell beneath the attack of Louvel.

These accounts of those who had suffered for their lawful king, although they may have convinced his credulous dupes, did not render it particularly safe for the claimant to put himself near the minions of the French police; he therefore found it prudent to keep himself concealed, and change his _noms de guerre_ at intervals. The revolution of 1830 afforded him, however, a fair opportunity for the display of his talents. No sooner was a provisional government established than the claimant, now concealing his royalty under the t.i.tle of the Baron de Richemont, addressed a demand to it that his rights should be observed, whilst he protested against the proclamation of the new "king of the French," as Louis Philippe was designated. The pretender also published the following letter, which was, he averred, a copy of one he had addressed to the d.u.c.h.ess d'Angouleme:--

"The time has now arrived, Madame, when, abjuring sentiments which nature and humanity alike disavow, you should give to my case the explanation necessary for putting an end to the ills that have oppressed me for so many years. I will not reproach you; your position imposes a religious silence upon me; but mine--have you considered it?

"If your heart is still able to understand the plaintive cry of outraged nature; if more than thirty-six years of suffering and exile would appear to you sufficient punishment for the enormous crime of being your nearest relation; if your hate is extinguished, break this culpable silence; since fortune once more puts you at the mercy of foreigners, would it not be better to throw yourself into the arms of your unfortunate brother?

"LOUIS CHARLES."

Notwithstanding this appeal, the princess did not seek out the persevering claimant, although the police did, and on the 29th August, 1833, succeeded in arresting him. He refused to give his name, but the act of accusation styled him Ethelbert Louis Hector Alfred, calling himself "Baron de Richemont." His real name, however, was supposed to be Hebert, as in all affairs of importance he had borne that, although he had used a variety of others. Among the witnesses called was Andryane, who had been a fellow-prisoner with the accused in Italy; Lasne, now seventy-four, who had been a personal attendant on the dauphin in the Temple, and who testified that he was well acquainted with the person of the little prince, who had died in his arms, although two strangers had been to his house to vainly try and persuade him that the child had been changed; the Duke de Choiseul, who, when interrogated by the prisoner, acknowledged that certain words ascribed to Marie Antoinette had been overheard by him; the Duke de Caraman remembered that an intriguing individual named Ojardias had brought to Thiers a sickly child, that for the moment pa.s.sed for the dauphin; whilst Monsieur Remusat, a medical man, deposed that Simon's widow, who died in a hospital in 1815, had told him that the dauphin was not dead.

On this slender fabric the _soi disant_ "Duke of Normandy" based his case, and with much dignity, and real or happily simulated emotion, recounted the story the reader is already acquainted with. At times his audience did not fail to manifest interest and sympathy in his recital. When the prosecution had spoken, and his advocate had presented the defence, the claimant said with calm dignity: "The Advocate-General has told you that I am not the son of Louis the Sixteenth; does he tell you who I am? I have formally requested him to do so, but he preserves silence. Gentlemen, you will appreciate this silence, as also the cause which hinders us from producing our t.i.tles.

This is neither the place nor the time. Competent tribunals will have to decree what is needed in that respect. You have been informed that inquiries have been made everywhere, but the Advocate-General is very careful not to let you know the result: he is not able to, his power does not extend so far as that, because another power forbids it. And what, gentlemen, would you think if, with a man like me, and at such a moment, they had neglected to carry out their investigations in the places where I have sojourned, and notably at Milan! No, no, gentlemen, do not believe but that they have written everywhere, and everywhere have obtained that which they asked for, that which they dare not make known to you. If I am in error, it is in the best faith; unfortunately, I have been in this belief for about fifty years, and I see well that I shall bear this error with me to the grave."

Ultimately the Court, whilst acquitting Hebert of roguery and conspiracy, found him guilty of sedition, and he was sentenced to twelve years of detention. He listened to his sentence without manifesting any emotion, and in retiring said, "He who does not know how to suffer is not worthy of the honour of persecution!" In 1835 Hebert contrived to escape from prison, in company with two other captives, and succeeded in getting out of France. For some years this pretender contented himself with urging his claims from abroad, and with re-issuing revised and enlarged editions of his _Memoires_, still sustained by the credulity of his dupes; but in 1848, protected by the general amnesty, he returned to his native land, and addressed a declaration of his rights to the National a.s.sembly. This proclamation did not appear to excite any public attention, any more than did his declaration of adhesion to the Republic, or the notification of that deed, which he forwarded to the d.u.c.h.ess d'Angouleme, on the 27th of March, 1849.

This claimant, in many respects the most noteworthy of those who aspired to the t.i.tles of the unfortunate dauphin, died in 1855, in the little commune of Gleyze, in the district of Villefranche-sur-Saone, and was interred there on the 10th of August of that year.

THE FALSE DAUPHINS: NaUNDORFF.

During the trial of the _soi disant_ Baron de Richemont, the spectators were surprised and amused by a singular declaration addressed to the jury by another pseudo-dauphin. This claimant, who varied the old story by styling himself Charles Louis in lieu of Louis Charles, protested that De Richemont was only an impostor put forward in order to confuse public opinion, and stifle the voice of the veritable Duke of Normandy, the author of this doc.u.ment!

This new pretender, if the royalists are to be believed, was a certain Charles William Naundorff, member of a Jewish family of Polish Prussia, and was born in 1775, or ten years earlier than the dauphin. He turned up at Berlin in 1810, and resided there for about two years, earning his livelihood by selling clocks. In 1812 he removed to Spandau, obtained the rights of citizens.h.i.+p, and married the daughter of a Heidelberg pipemaker. He professed to be a Protestant, spoke French with a villainous accent, and yet, in 1825, from some unaccountable reason, gave out to the world that he was the son of Louis the Sixteenth. He had been in many difficulties before he complicated matters by a.s.suming the Duke of Normandy's t.i.tles, having been accused of being an incendiary in 1824, and some months later of coining, for which latter offence he was sentenced to three years' detention in the Penitentiary of Brandenburg. On being released from captivity he set up a claim to be the son of Louis the Sixteenth, and actually had the foolhardiness to inst.i.tute proceedings against the ex-king, Charles the Tenth, and the d.u.c.h.ess d'Angouleme. All he gained by this audacity was an immediate arrest, and expulsion from the frontiers of France, in which country he had taken up his abode. Nothing daunted by this summary action, the pretender appealed to the Council of State, and obtained the services of Monsieur Cremieux to defend his cause, not, it is true, as the son of Louis the Sixteenth, but as a foreigner illegally arrested and expelled. Unsuccessful in his suit, Naundorff pa.s.sed into England, and continued to play his _role_ of ill-used royalty. By these means, and by practising as a spiritualist, the _soi disant_ prince contrived to make enough dupes to live by. In 1843 he got into some difficulties with the English police, and being made bankrupt, had to leave the country. Taking refuge in Holland, he expired at Delft, on the 10th of August, 1845.

Unfortunately Naundorff's pretensions did not die with him, for he left two children, Louis and Marie Antoinette "de Bourbon," who some few years since renewed their claims to the reversion of the French throne.

In 1873, the son, Louis, summoned the Count de Chambord before a Paris court, to show cause why a judgment p.r.o.nounced many years ago against Naundorff's father, by the Civil Tribunal of the Seine, should not be reversed in his, Louis's, favour. Notwithstanding the fact that the putative "grandson" of Louis the Sixteenth retained the services of Jules Favre as an advocate, he was unable to soften the iron hearts of the Parisian jury, and had to subside into oblivion.

THE FALSE DAUPHINS: AUGUSTUS MEVES.

Of all the tawdry fictions invented by pretenders to the name and t.i.tle of "Louis the Seventeenth," none are so ridiculous as the tale told by the Meves family, if that really be their name, and yet none have so persistently troubled the public with printed a.s.sertions of their claims as they. The quantum of probability in their story may be gauged by telling it in the words of Augustus Meves, _alias_ "Auguste de Bourbon, son of Louis the Seventeenth." However, the tale cannot be given _in extenso_ from the works issued by this ill.u.s.trious man, as, not only has it required several volumes to put it before the world, but it is so contradictory, and at times obscure, that it requires no slight manipulation to render it comprehensible.

Beginning his career with the Temple epoch, this pseudo-dauphin, contrary to the accounts of his compet.i.tors, declares that he has no recollection of Simon the jailer having ever wilfully ill-treated him, and that owing to a person named Hebert having wounded him in a fit of pa.s.sion, Madame Simon's womanly feelings were aroused on his behalf, and she determined to save him. His rescue was thus brought about: Tom Paine, author of "The Rights of Man," who was at this time a member of the French National Convention, wrote to a lady friend in London, to bring him a deaf and dumb boy to Paris. This lady, unable to execute the commission, communicated the secret to her bosom friend Mrs. Meves, and she naturally informed her husband. It so happened that Mr. Meves had a son who, being in delicate health, his father was naturally desirous of getting rid of. Mr. Meves, therefore, without confiding in his wife, went to Paris with his son, who, by the way, was neither deaf nor dumb, and placed him in the hands of certain people, who subst.i.tuted him for the dauphin. The exchange was effected at a time when public interest being concentrated on the Queen's trial, the vigilance at the Temple, says "Auguste de Bourbon," was relaxed.

According to the recollection of the dauphin, his escape was thus managed: "It seems to my reflective powers that I was lying on the sofa in the parlour of the small Tower of the Temple, and was awakened by Madame Simon saying, '_Votre pere est arrive_.' She then aroused me from the sofa, taking the pillow therefrom, and putting it into a kind of hamper-basket, and after placing me in it, she covered me with a light dress, and carried the basket across the ground. A coach was waiting at the gate, into which she placed the basket, when we were driven to where Mr. Meves resided. The coach needed to carry Madame Simon's linen disgorged its contents, and in due time the Duke of Normandy was landed in England, where he took the place of Mr. Meves'

son, that iron-hearted gentleman having made a vow to Marie Antoinette, whom he contrived to get an interview with, that the young prince should be brought up in utter ignorance of his true origin. And that secret," says "Auguste de Bourbon," "he kept to the end of his existence."

Whether Louis Charles so readily forgot his real parents and position does not, probably, need investigation. He was placed at a day-school, where after a fas.h.i.+on he learnt English, and, subsequently, at a boarding-school at Wandsworth. Meanwhile, Mrs. Meves having discovered that her son had had to take the place of young Louis in the Temple, very naturally wished to effect _his_ release. She obtained a deaf and dumb boy, and by a roundabout route took him to Paris. Vigilance being, apparently, again relaxed at the Temple, the unfortunate deaf and dumb scapegoat was now subst.i.tuted for Augustus Meves, and his escape was effected. "At what precise date this was accomplished,"

says "Auguste de Bourbon," "is not definitely fixed, but it is suggested after July 1794. Mrs. Meves did not stay in Paris till its accomplishment (_i.e._, her son's release), but returned to England in the month of May."

Augustus Meves now disappears from the scene, although it is suggested that he may have been the pretender Naundorff, but the "Dauphin King"

was carefully educated by the unnatural parents, who had their adopted child taught the pianoforte. The boy made such progress that an unnamed Scotch newspaper deemed him "only to be equalled by the great Mozart." This success made the foster-father afraid the lad's origin might come to light, so he placed him in the seclusion of a friend's counting-house. His Royal Highness did not admire this occupation, and by Mrs. Meves' aid was enabled to resume his former vocation. He became a volunteer, and joined the "Loyal British Artificers," and in 1811 was promoted to the rank of captain. In 1813 he relinquished the musical profession to become "a speculator at the rotunda of the Bank of England." In 1814 he visited Calais, but the return of Napoleon in 1815 prevented him, says his son, "going to Paris." In this latter year he "observed a lady scrutinising him," at the Old Argyle Rooms, Regent Street, and was informed that it was the d.u.c.h.ess d'Angouleme, the unfortunate victim of all the pseudo dauphins. In 1816 he visited Paris, and found many of the sights quite familiar to his memory. In 1818 Mr. Meves died, and so faithful was he to his promise to Marie Antoinette of keeping the secret of the dauphin's origin, that in his will he absolutely declared the young man to be "his illegitimate son."

This naturally aroused the ire of Mrs. Meves, who, bound by no oath, informed her adopted son of his real parentage, declaring somewhat rashly, "Your ident.i.ty can be proved as positive as the sun at noon-day."

"This disclosure," says "Auguste de Bourbon," "naturally unsettled and perplexed the dauphin, for his early recollections were but vaguely defined." He obtained an order for his putative father's disinterment, but that does not appear to have solved the mystery any more than did the fact that "in 1821 the dauphin became a speculator, and experienced its vicissitudes." In 1823 Mrs. Meves died, after having advised the "dauphin" not to be "induced to read any private memoirs of the queen of France, as it will only set your mind wool-gathering."

Unfortunately, Augustus did not follow this prudent advice, and the consequence was that the unfortunate d.u.c.h.ess d'Angouleme was bothered with more fraternal appeals, and with the information that the writer possessed a mole "on the middle of the stomach." Ultimately a French n.o.bleman visited Augustus, and told him that in his opinion the British Government knew who he was, but feared to acknowledge him, as, from the energy of his character, he might put the whole of Europe in a state of fermentation, because, pointed out this Frenchman, "he was not only King of France in right of birth, but also heir to Maria Theresa, Empress of Germany."

On the 9th of May, 1859, this pretender died, but unfortunately his pretensions did not die with him. He left two sons, of whom the elder, known to the public generally as William Meves, has published several ungrammatical and illogical works respecting his alleged royal lineage, under the a.s.sumed name of "Auguste de Bourbon."

THE FALSE DAUPHINS: ELEAZAR WILLIAMS.

The story of this impostor has been a favourite theme with American magazines, some of which, indeed, have sought to throw an air of probability about his pretensions. And, indeed, ridiculous as this pretender's tale may seem, it would be dangerous to aver that it is more absurd than those told by some of his rival claimants to the rank and name of "Louis the Seventeenth." During the years 1853 and 1854, a series of papers on the claims of the Rev. Eleazar Williams to be considered as the deceased dauphin were published in _Putnam's Magazine_, and in the latter year the Rev. J. H. Hanson published a work ent.i.tled "The Lost Prince," purporting to contain "Facts tending to prove the ident.i.ty of Louis the Seventeenth of France and the Rev.

Eleazar Williams, Missionary to the Indians."

In order to account for the strangeness of the story told, the biographer carries his records back to 1795, when a family styling themselves De Jardin are said to have arrived in Albany from France.

The family consisted of a Madame de Jardin, who appeared to be a personage of some distinction, and a man who pa.s.sed as this lady's husband, but really appeared to be her servant, from the deferential manner in which he treated her; and two children, a boy and a girl.

There appeared to be a considerable amount of mystery connected with these children, or at all events with the boy, who was about ten years of age, was always alluded to as "Monsieur Louis," and in whom visitors had no difficulty in discovering a resemblance to portraits of the French royal family. Madame de Jardin acknowledged that she had been maid of honour to Marie Antoinette, and still retained in her possession several relics of her unfortunate mistress. The De Jardins did not inform their neighbours what had brought them to Albany, and, what was still more tantalizing, they suddenly departed without saying why they went away.

The next episode, although showing no very clear connection with the De Jardin mystery, is suggestively allocated with it as its sequel. It tells how, later in the year 1795, two French strangers, having with them a sickly boy of about ten years of age, visited the Iroquois settlement at Ticonderoga, near Lake George. This boy was left in charge of Thomas Williams, a chief of the Iroquois settlement, who adopted him and brought him up in the same way as his own eight children, giving him the name of Lazar, the Iroquois equivalent for Eleazar. All went smoothly for three or four years, during which period Eleazar, who was little better than an imbecile, forgot his French, and remembered little or nothing of the past. Some few incidents of a noteworthy character, however, occurred. One day two strangers visited the settlement, and whilst one stood aside the other met Eleazar, and embraced him, and shed a plenteous supply of tears over him. He talked a good deal to Eleazar, but as he spoke French, and the boy only understood Iroquois, they could not derive much information from one another. The next day the Frenchman repeated his visit, examined Eleazar's knees and ankles, wept more tears, and, what seemed to him more reasonable, presented him with a piece of gold before he went away.