The Duchess of Berry and the Court of Charles X | Page 7

he was a prisoner at Vienna. What chance of reigning had
the Duke of Reichstadt, that child of thirteen, condemned by all the
Powers of Europe? By what means could he mount the throne? Who
would be regent in his name? A Bonaparte? The forgetful Marie Louise?
Such hypotheses were relegated to the domain of pure fantasy. Apart
from a few fanatical old soldiers who persisted in saying that Napoleon
was not dead, no one, in 1824, believed in the resurrection of the
Empire. As for Orleanism, it was as yet a myth. The Duke of Orleans
himself was not an Orleanist. Of all the courtiers of Charles X., he was
the most eager, the most zealous, the most enthusiastic. In whatever
direction she turned her glance, the Duchess of Berry saw about her
only reasons for satisfaction and security.

II
THE ENTRY INTO PARIS

The Duchess of Berry took part in the solemn entry into Paris made by
Charles X., Monday, 27th September, 1824. She was in the same
carriage as the Dauphiness and the Duchess and Mademoiselle of
Orleans. The King left the Chateau of Saint Cloud at half-past eleven in
the morning, passed through the Bois de Boulogne, and mounted his
horse at the Barriere de l'Etoile. There he was saluted by a salvo of one
hundred and one guns, and the Count de Chambral, Prefect of the Seine,
surrounded by the members of the Municipal Council, presented to him
the keys of the city. Charles X. replied to the address of the Prefect: "I
deposit these keys with you, because I cannot place them in more
faithful hands. Guard them, gentlemen. It is with a profound feeling of
pain and joy that I enter within these walls, in the midst of my good
people,--of joy because I well know that I shall employ and consecrate
all my days to the very last, to assure and consolidate their happiness."
Accompanied by the princes and princesses of his family and by a
magnificent staff, the sovereign descended the Champs-Elysees to the
Avenue of Marigny, followed that avenue, and entered the Rue du
Faubourg Saint-Honore, before the Palace of the Elysee. At this
moment, the weather, which had been cold and sombre, brightened, and
the rain, which had been falling for a long time, ceased. The King heard
two child-voices crying joyously, "Bon-papa." It was the little Duke of
Bordeaux and his sister at a window of an entresol of the Elysee which
looked out upon the street. On perceiving his two grandchildren,
Charles X. could not resist the impulse to approach them. He left the
ranks of the cortege, to the despair of the grand-master of ceremonies.
The horse reared. A sergeant-de-ville seized him by the bit. Listen to
Madame de Gontaut: "I was frightened, and cried out. The King
scolded me for it afterward. I confessed my weakness; to fall at the first
step in Paris would have seemed an ill omen. The King subdued his
fretful horse, said a few tender words to the children, raised his hat
gracefully to the ladies surrounding us. A thousand voices shouted:
Vive le Roi! The grand-master was reassured, the horse was quieted,
and the King resumed his place. The carriage of the princes and
princesses passing at that moment, the little princes saw them--it was
an added joy."
The cortege followed this route: the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore,
the boulevards to the Rue Saint-Denis, the Rue Saint-Denis, the Place

du Chatelet, the Pont au Change, the Rue de la Bailer, the Marche-Neuf,
the Rue Neuve-Notre-Dame, the Parvis. At every moment the King
reined in his superb Arab horse to regard more at ease the delighted
crowd. He smiled and saluted with an air of kindness and a grace that
produced the best impression. Charles X. was an excellent horseman;
he presented the figure and air of a young man. The contrast naturally
fixed in all minds, between his vigorous attitude and that of his
predecessor, an infirm and feeble old man, added to the general
satisfaction. The houses were decorated with white flags spangled with
fleurs-de-lis. Triumphal arches were erected along the route of the
sovereign. The streets and boulevards were strewn with flowers. At the
sight of the monarch the happy people redoubled their acclamations.
Benjamin Constant shouted: "Vive le roi!"--"Ah, I have captured you at
last," smilingly remarked Charles X.
Reaching the Parvis de Notre-Dame, the sovereign, before entering the
Cathedral, paused before the threshold of the Hotel-Dieu. Fifty nuns
presented themselves before him, "Sire," said the Prioress, "you pause
before the house so justly termed the Hotel- Dieu, which has always
been honored with the protection of our kings. We shall never forget,
Sire, that the sick have seen at their bedside the Prince who is today