DOI issue:
January to June, 1844
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16519#0164
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 167
THE
HISTORY OP THE NEXT FRENCH REVOLUTION.
[From a forthcoming History of Eur ope, ]
CHAP. IX.—LOUIS XVII.
The tremendous cannonading, however, had a singular effect upon the inhabitants of
the great public hospital of Charenton, in which it may be remembered Louis XVII. had
been, as in mockery, confined. His majesty of demeanour, his calm deportment, the
reasonableness of his pretensions, had not failed to strike with awe and respect his four
thousand comrades of captivity. The Emperor of China, the Princess of the Moon ;
Julius Csesar ; Saint Genevieve, the patron saint of Paris ; the Pope of Rome ; the
Cacique of Mexico ; and several singular and illustrious personages, who happened to be
confined there, all held a council with Louis XVII.; and all agreed that now or never
was the time to support his legitimate pretensions to the Crown of France. As the
cannons roared around them, they howled with furious delight in response—they took
counsel together—Doctor Pinel and the infamous jaileurs, who, under the name of keepers,
held them in horrible captivity, were pounced upon and overcome in a twinkling. The
strait-waistcoats were taken off from the wretched captives languishing in the dungeons ;
the guardians were invested in these shameful garments, and with triumphant laughter
plunged under the Douches. The gates of the prison were flung open, and they marched
forth in the blackness of the storm !
*********
On the third day, the cannonading was observed to decrease ; only a gun went off fitfully
now and then.
*********
On the fourth day, the Parisians said to one another, " Tiem! Us sont fatigues, les
canonniers dcs forts !—and why ? Because there was no more powder ?—Ay, truly, there
teas no more powder.
There was no more powder, no more guns, no more gunners, no more forts, no more
nothing. The forts had blown each other up. The battle-roar ceased. The battle-clouds rolled
off. The silver moon, the twinkling stars, looked blandly down from the serene azure,—
and all was peace—stillness—the stillness of death. Holy, holy silence !
Yes ; the battle of Paris was over. And where were the combatants ? All gone—not
one left !— And where was Louis Philippe ? The venerable Prince was a captive in the
Tuileries. The Irish brigade was encamped around it. They had reached the palace a
little too late ; it was already occupied by the partisans of his Majesty Louis XVII.
That respectable monarch and his followers better knew the way to the Tuileries than
the ignorant sons of Erin. They burst through the feeble barriers of the guards ; they
rushed triumphant into the kingly halls of the palace ; they seated the seventeenth Loufs
on the throne of his ancestors ; and the Parisians read in the Journal des Bebats of the fifth
of November, an important article, which proclaimed that the civil war was concluded.
" The troubles which distracted the greatest empire in the world are at an end. Europe,
which marked with sorrow the disturbances which agitated the bosom of the Queen of
Nations, the great leader of Civilisation, may now rest in peace. That monarch whom
we have long been sighing for ; whose image has lain hidden, and yet, oh ! how passion-
ately worshipped in every French heart, is with us once more. Blessings be on him ;
blessings—a thousand blessings upon the happy country which is at length restored to his
beneficent, his legitimate, his reasonable sway !
" His Most Christian Majesty, Louis XVII., yesterday arrived at his palace of the
Tuileries, accompanied by his august allies. His Royal Highness the Duke of Orleans has
resigned his post as Lieutenant-General of the kingdom, and will return speedily to take
up his abode at the Palais Royal. It is a great
mercy that the children of his Royal Highness,
who happened to be in the late forts round
Paris, (before the bombardment which has so
happily ended in their destruction,) had re-
turned to their father before the commence-
ment of the cannonading. They will continue,
as heretofore, to be the most loyal supporters
of order and the throne.
"None can read without tears in their eyes
our august monarch's proclamation.
"' Louis, by &c.—
"'My children. After nine hundred and
ninety-nine years of captivity, I am restored
to you. The cycle of events predicted by the
ancient magi, and the planetary convolutions
mentioned in the lost Sibylline books, have
fulfilled their respective idiosyncracies, aud
ended (as always in the depths of my dungeons
I confidently expected) in the triumph of the
good angel, and the utter discomfiture of the
abominable Blue Dragon.
" ' When the bombarding began, and the
powers of darkness commenced their hellish
gunpowder-evolutions, I was close by—in my
palace of Charenton, three hundred and thirty-
three thousand miles off, in the ring of Saturn
—I witnessed your misery. My heart was
affected by it, and I said, ' Is the multiplication
table a fiction ? are the signs of the Zodiac
mere astronomers' prattle %'
"' I clapped chains, shrieking and darkness,
on my physician, Dr. Pinel. The keepers I
shall cause to be roasted alive. I summoned
my allies round about me. The high contracting
powers came to my bidding. Monarchs, from
all parts of the earth ; sovereigns, from the
moon and other illumined orbits ; the white
necromancers, and the pale imprisoned genii :
I whispered the
mystic sign, and
the doorsflewopen.
We entered Paris
in triumph, by the
Charenton bridge.
Our luggage was
not examined at
the Octroi. The
bottle-green ones
were scared at our
shouts,and retreat-
ed, howling : they
knew us, and trem-
bled.
" ' My faithful
peers and deputies
will rally around
me. I have a friend
in Turkey — the
grand vizier of the
Mussulmans — he
was a Protestant
once, Lord Broug-
ham, by name. I
have sent to him
to legislate for us :
he is wise in the
law, and astrology,
and all sciences;
he shall aid my
ministers in their
councils. I have
written to him by
the post. There
shall be no more
infamous mad-
houses in France,
where poor souls shiver in strait-waiscoats.
" ' I recognised Louis Philippe, my good
THE
HISTORY OP THE NEXT FRENCH REVOLUTION.
[From a forthcoming History of Eur ope, ]
CHAP. IX.—LOUIS XVII.
The tremendous cannonading, however, had a singular effect upon the inhabitants of
the great public hospital of Charenton, in which it may be remembered Louis XVII. had
been, as in mockery, confined. His majesty of demeanour, his calm deportment, the
reasonableness of his pretensions, had not failed to strike with awe and respect his four
thousand comrades of captivity. The Emperor of China, the Princess of the Moon ;
Julius Csesar ; Saint Genevieve, the patron saint of Paris ; the Pope of Rome ; the
Cacique of Mexico ; and several singular and illustrious personages, who happened to be
confined there, all held a council with Louis XVII.; and all agreed that now or never
was the time to support his legitimate pretensions to the Crown of France. As the
cannons roared around them, they howled with furious delight in response—they took
counsel together—Doctor Pinel and the infamous jaileurs, who, under the name of keepers,
held them in horrible captivity, were pounced upon and overcome in a twinkling. The
strait-waistcoats were taken off from the wretched captives languishing in the dungeons ;
the guardians were invested in these shameful garments, and with triumphant laughter
plunged under the Douches. The gates of the prison were flung open, and they marched
forth in the blackness of the storm !
*********
On the third day, the cannonading was observed to decrease ; only a gun went off fitfully
now and then.
*********
On the fourth day, the Parisians said to one another, " Tiem! Us sont fatigues, les
canonniers dcs forts !—and why ? Because there was no more powder ?—Ay, truly, there
teas no more powder.
There was no more powder, no more guns, no more gunners, no more forts, no more
nothing. The forts had blown each other up. The battle-roar ceased. The battle-clouds rolled
off. The silver moon, the twinkling stars, looked blandly down from the serene azure,—
and all was peace—stillness—the stillness of death. Holy, holy silence !
Yes ; the battle of Paris was over. And where were the combatants ? All gone—not
one left !— And where was Louis Philippe ? The venerable Prince was a captive in the
Tuileries. The Irish brigade was encamped around it. They had reached the palace a
little too late ; it was already occupied by the partisans of his Majesty Louis XVII.
That respectable monarch and his followers better knew the way to the Tuileries than
the ignorant sons of Erin. They burst through the feeble barriers of the guards ; they
rushed triumphant into the kingly halls of the palace ; they seated the seventeenth Loufs
on the throne of his ancestors ; and the Parisians read in the Journal des Bebats of the fifth
of November, an important article, which proclaimed that the civil war was concluded.
" The troubles which distracted the greatest empire in the world are at an end. Europe,
which marked with sorrow the disturbances which agitated the bosom of the Queen of
Nations, the great leader of Civilisation, may now rest in peace. That monarch whom
we have long been sighing for ; whose image has lain hidden, and yet, oh ! how passion-
ately worshipped in every French heart, is with us once more. Blessings be on him ;
blessings—a thousand blessings upon the happy country which is at length restored to his
beneficent, his legitimate, his reasonable sway !
" His Most Christian Majesty, Louis XVII., yesterday arrived at his palace of the
Tuileries, accompanied by his august allies. His Royal Highness the Duke of Orleans has
resigned his post as Lieutenant-General of the kingdom, and will return speedily to take
up his abode at the Palais Royal. It is a great
mercy that the children of his Royal Highness,
who happened to be in the late forts round
Paris, (before the bombardment which has so
happily ended in their destruction,) had re-
turned to their father before the commence-
ment of the cannonading. They will continue,
as heretofore, to be the most loyal supporters
of order and the throne.
"None can read without tears in their eyes
our august monarch's proclamation.
"' Louis, by &c.—
"'My children. After nine hundred and
ninety-nine years of captivity, I am restored
to you. The cycle of events predicted by the
ancient magi, and the planetary convolutions
mentioned in the lost Sibylline books, have
fulfilled their respective idiosyncracies, aud
ended (as always in the depths of my dungeons
I confidently expected) in the triumph of the
good angel, and the utter discomfiture of the
abominable Blue Dragon.
" ' When the bombarding began, and the
powers of darkness commenced their hellish
gunpowder-evolutions, I was close by—in my
palace of Charenton, three hundred and thirty-
three thousand miles off, in the ring of Saturn
—I witnessed your misery. My heart was
affected by it, and I said, ' Is the multiplication
table a fiction ? are the signs of the Zodiac
mere astronomers' prattle %'
"' I clapped chains, shrieking and darkness,
on my physician, Dr. Pinel. The keepers I
shall cause to be roasted alive. I summoned
my allies round about me. The high contracting
powers came to my bidding. Monarchs, from
all parts of the earth ; sovereigns, from the
moon and other illumined orbits ; the white
necromancers, and the pale imprisoned genii :
I whispered the
mystic sign, and
the doorsflewopen.
We entered Paris
in triumph, by the
Charenton bridge.
Our luggage was
not examined at
the Octroi. The
bottle-green ones
were scared at our
shouts,and retreat-
ed, howling : they
knew us, and trem-
bled.
" ' My faithful
peers and deputies
will rally around
me. I have a friend
in Turkey — the
grand vizier of the
Mussulmans — he
was a Protestant
once, Lord Broug-
ham, by name. I
have sent to him
to legislate for us :
he is wise in the
law, and astrology,
and all sciences;
he shall aid my
ministers in their
councils. I have
written to him by
the post. There
shall be no more
infamous mad-
houses in France,
where poor souls shiver in strait-waiscoats.
" ' I recognised Louis Philippe, my good