Lives of Celebrated Women

The Countess of Nottingham, a near relation, but no friend, of Essex, being on her death-bed, entreated to see the queen, declaring that she had something to confess to her before she could die in peace. On her majesty’s arrival, the countess produced a ring, which she said the Earl of Essex had sent to her, after his condemnation, with an earnest request that she would deliver it to the queen, as a token by which he implored her mercy; but that, in obedience to her husband, she withheld it. Elizabeth at once recognized the ring as one which she had herself presented to her favorite, with the tender promise, that of whatsoever crimes his enemies might have accused him, or whatever offences he might actually have committed against her, on his returning to her that pledge, she would either pardon him, or admit him, at least, to justify himself in her presence. It was in a moment of pique at his supposed pride and obstinacy in refusing to ask her forgiveness, that she had signed the death-warrant. She now learned that he had been the victim, and herself the dupe, of the most barbarous treachery. Transported with grief and rage, she shook the dying countess in her bed; and, vehemently exclaiming, “God may forgive, but I never will,” she flung herself out of the chamber.

Returning to the palace, she surrendered herself without resistance to the despair which had seized her heart on this fatal disclosure. She refused medicine, and almost the means of sustenance; days and nights she sat upon the floor, sleepless, her eyes fixed, and her finger pressed upon her mouth, the silence only broken by her sighs, groans, and ejaculations of anguish. Her sufferings were at length relieved by her death, on the 24th of March, 1603. Her last words were strongly characteristic. During her whole life, she had shown a perverse dread of naming her successor; but it was necessary that the question should be put to her in her last moments. She replied, “My seat has been the seat of kings, and I will have no rascal to succeed me.” Cecil, whom the weakness of the dying lioness rendered bold, inquired what she meant by the words, “that no rascal should succeed her;” to which she answered, “I will have a king to succeed me, and who should that be but the king of Scots?”

The personal character of Elizabeth presents little that excites our sympathy or respect. She was vain, jealous, and selfish, in the extreme. She was capable of the deepest hypocrisy, and often practised it. She sacrificed every thing to her despotic love of sway, her pride, and her vanity, except the interests of her kingdom. These she guarded with care, and, though a tyrannical and selfish monarch, she must be ranked as among the best sovereigns of her time.

ISABELLA OF SPAIN

Isabella, queen of Castile, was born at Madrigal, in that kingdom, on the 22d of April, 1451. Her father, John II., after an inglorious reign of forty-eight years, died in 1454, lamenting that he had not been born the son of a mechanic, instead of king of Castile. Isabella had but a slender prospect of obtaining the crown during the early part of her life. She had two brothers, Henry and Alfonso, the former of whom acceded to the throne at the death of John. Isabella retired, with her mother, to the little town of Arevalo, where she lived many years in obscurity. Her mother, who appears to have been a woman of a strong, religious turn of mind, bestowed great care on her education, and inculcated the strictest lessons of piety upon her daughter, which did not fail to exercise an important influence upon her future career. On the birth of a daughter to her brother, Isabella was removed from her retirement to the royal palace, by Henry, who, being disliked by his subjects, feared the formation of a party adverse to his interests. At the royal court, surrounded by all the pleasures and seductions most dazzling to youth, she did not forget the early lessons imbibed in her seclusion, and the blameless purity of her conduct shone with additional lustre amid the scenes of levity and licentiousness by which she was surrounded.

Before this event, she had been solicited in marriage by various suitors, among whom was Ferdinand of Arragon, who afterward became her husband. His first application, however, was unsuccessful. She was next betrothed to his elder brother Carlos, while yet a mere child. That prince dying before the marriage could be completed, she was promised by her brother to Alfonso, king of Portugal. Isabella was but thirteen at this time, and the disparity of their ages was such that neither threats nor entreaties could induce her to consent to the union. The selfish and unprincipled Henry, who looked upon his sister only as an object of trade, next made an attempt to dispose of her for the purpose of gaining over a powerful family in Castile, which gave him great trouble by their opposition. He offered her in marriage to Don Pedro Giron, grand master of the order of Calatrava. This man was well known to be a most detestable character. He was a fierce and turbulent leader of a faction, and his private life was stained with almost every vice. Such a person, vastly inferior in birth, was selected as the husband of the young and virtuous Isabella. The pope granted a dispensation from the vow of celibacy, which the grand master, as the companion of a religions order, had been obliged to utter, and splendid preparations were immediately made for the nuptials.

Isabella was at this time in her sixteenth year. When she understood in what manner she was now to be sacrificed to the selfish policy of her brother, and that, in case she proved reluctant, compulsory measures were to be adopted, she was filled with the liveliest grief and indignation. She confined herself in her apartment, abstaining from all food and sleep for a day and a night, imploring Heaven, in the most piteous manner, to save her from this dishonor, even at the cost of her life. As she was bewailing her hard fate to her faithful friend, Beatriz de Bobadilla, that high-spirited lady exclaimed, “God will not permit it; neither will I;” and, drawing forth a dagger from her bosom, she solemnly vowed to plunge it into the heart of the master of Calatrava as soon as he appeared. The affair, happily, did not come to so tragical a catastrophe. Her dreaded suitor was suddenly carried off by sickness in the midst of his magnificent preparations.

Troubles now began to thicken around the weak and vicious Henry. His subjects, disgusted with his administration, rose in arms against him. Castile was afflicted with all the horrors of anarchy and civil war. Isabella retired for shelter to a monastery at Avila. The confederated nobles, who were in arms against the king, offered her the crown of Castile, which she had the prudence and magnanimity to refuse. This led to a negotiation with the king, and the civil war was closed by a treaty between the parties, in which it was stipulated that Isabella should be immediately recognized heir to the crown of Castile and Leon. Her brother Alfonso had recently died, and Joanna, the daughter of Henry, was believed by the people to be a supposititious offspring. Isabella’s prospects of a throne, having now assumed a certain character, drew the attention of neighboring princes, who contended with each other for the honor of her hand. She gave the preference to Ferdinand of Arragon, and they were married in 1469. On the death of Henry, in 1474, they were conjointly declared king and queen of Castile. A party, however, existed in favor of Joanna, and Alfonso IV., king of Portugal, entered Castile at the head of an army, publicly espoused her, and assumed the regal title. His defeat at the battle of Toro, in 1475, was fatal to his pretensions, and, by a peace concluded in 1479, the right of Isabella and her husband was fully acknowledged. In that year Ferdinand succeeded to the crown of Arragon; and from that time the kingdoms of Castile and Arragon were inseparably united, comprising the whole of Spain not possessed by the Moors.

Isabella, who was high spirited and jealous of her authority, governed Castile as the real sovereign, and her husband had the policy to concur, with apparent cordiality, in her measures. In 1481, hostilities were commenced against the Moors of Grenada; and, after a war of ten years, that kingdom was subdued by the arms of Ferdinand and Isabella. By this event the whole of Spain was restored to the Christian dominion; and, in honor of an achievement so auspicious, the two sovereigns received the distinguishing title of “the Catholic.” In this war Isabella engaged with all the ardor of religions zeal; and though Ferdinand joined in her plans with perfect harmony, yet he seems to have acted in a secondary capacity. Soon after this, the Jews were expelled from Spain – an act of bigotry and injustice certainly countenanced by Isabella, but owing chiefly to the frantic religious zeal of the inquisitor-general, Torquemada, her confessor, who, while the king and queen were deliberating on the acceptance of an offer of thirty thousand ducats made by the Jews to avert the threatened edict of expulsion, suddenly burst into their presence, and, drawing forth a crucifix from beneath his mantle, held it up, exclaiming, “Judas Iscariot sold his Master for thirty pieces of silver. Your highnesses would sell him anew for thirty thousand. Here he is; take him, and barter him away.” So saying, he threw the crucifix on the table, and left the apartment. This bold stroke of priestly impudence was completely successful. The sovereigns were overawed, and the edict was signed.

A deed more glorious to the memory of Isabella was the generous patronage she bestowed upon Columbus, and which was the sole means that enabled that heroic adventurer to accomplish his great undertaking of the discovery of the western world. After he had failed in all his attempts in other quarters, he at length found a friend in the queen, who, rejecting the advice of her narrow-minded and timid counsellors, exclaimed, “I will assume the undertaking for my own crown of Castile, and am ready to pawn my jewels to defray the expenses of it, if the funds in the treasury shall be found inadequate.” Under her auspices Columbus achieved his great discovery; and Isabella may be called the mother of the western world. She continued a constant friend and protector of Columbus during her life; and her death proved an overwhelming disaster to him.

During the war against the Moors, Isabella shared in most of the campaigns, animating her husband and generals by her courage and undaunted perseverance; providing for the support of the armies by her forethought and economy; comforting them under their reverses by her sweet and gracious speeches, and pious confidence in Heaven; and, by her active humanity and her benevolent sympathy, extended to friend and foe, softening, as far as possible, the miseries of war. She was the first who appointed regular military surgeons to attend the movements of the army, and be at hand on the field of battle. These surgeons were paid out of her own revenues; and she also provided six spacious tents, furnished with beds and all things requisite for the sick and wounded, which were called the “Queen’s Hospital.” Thus to the compassionate heart of a woman, directed by energy and judgment, the civilized world was first indebted for an expedient which has since saved so many lives, and accomplished so much towards alleviating the frightful evils of war.

Isabella’s confessor, the Dominican Torquemada, had, from the beginning, earnestly labored to infuse into her young mind, to which his situation gave him such ready access, the same spirit of fanaticism that glowed in his own. Fortunately, this was in a great degree counteracted by her sound understanding and natural kindness of heart. But he is said to have extorted a promise that, “should she ever come to the throne, she would devote herself to the extirpation of heresy, for the glory of God and the extension of the Catholic faith.” The fulfilment of this promise being afterwards insisted on, led to the establishment of the Inquisition in her dominions, the darkest spot that exists upon her character. It was not till she had endured the repeated importunities of the clergy, particularly of those revered persons in whom she most confided, that she consented to this measure.

It was under the auspices of Isabella that Cardinal Ximenes introduced his famous reforms into the religious orders of Spain, and began the work of correcting the horrible abuses which had crept into the government of the convents. This attempt was strongly resisted, and occasioned a general outcry of the clergy. The general of the Franciscans waited on the queen, and remonstrated in high terms against this interference with the privileges of his order; at the same time reflecting severely on Cardinal Ximenes, and his influence over her mind. Isabella listened to this turbulent friar with some impatience; but, little accustomed to be dictated to in this style, she at length rose from her seat, and desired him to remember who he was, and to whom he spoke. “Madam,” replied the monk, undauntedly, “I remember that I am but ashes and dust, and that I speak to Queen Isabella, who is but dust and ashes, like myself.” She immediately turned from him with a look of cool disdain. The next day he was ordered to quit the kingdom; and Ximenes, supported by the royal power, pursued his system of reformation.

Isabella was a patron of literature. The first printing press set up in Spain was established at Burgos under her auspices; and all printed books, and foreign and classical works, were imported free of duty. Through her zeal and patronage, the University of Salamanca rose to that eminence which it assumed among the learned institutions of that period, and rivalled those of Pisa and Padua. She prepared the way for that golden age of Spanish literature which immediately succeeded her. Her own love of study is evinced by the fact, that, after she was firmly seated on the throne, she applied herself to the task of remedying the defects of her early education, by a diligent application to books, amid all the cares of state. She mastered the Latin language in less than a year’s study.

Notwithstanding that Isabella adored her husband, she would never suffer him to interfere with her authority as an independent sovereign, and she was as jealous of her prerogative as Elizabeth of England; except, indeed, where priestly intimidation was applied. Her extreme deference for the ecclesiastics around her was a misfortune for her people, but, consistently with the best points in her character, it could not have been otherwise. She was humane, just, and reasonable in all matters not influenced by the religious bigotry of the age. She declared the American Indians free, and ordered the instant return of several cargoes of them which had been sent to Spain for slaves.

After a successful and glorious reign of thirty years, Isabella the Catholic died, on the 26th of November, 1504, in the fifty-fourth year of her age. Her last years were clouded with the deepest melancholy. The insanity and misfortunes of her daughter Joanna, and the domestic afflictions of her daughter Catherine of Arragon, lacerated her heart with sorrow. She pined away in her lonely grandeur, till the deep and long-protracted melancholy invaded her constitution, and settled into a rapid and fatal decline.

The chief traits of Isabella’s character may be gathered from the preceding narrative, to which we subjoin the parallel drawn between her and Elizabeth of England, by Mr. Prescott, whose “History” so ably and satisfactorily unfolds the events of her reign.

“It is in these more amiable qualities of her sex, that Isabella’s superiority becomes most apparent over her illustrious namesake, Elizabeth of England, whose history presents some features parallel to her own. Both were disciplined in early life by the teachings of that stern nurse of wisdom, adversity. Both were made to experience the deepest humiliation at the hands of their nearest relative, who should have cherished and protected them. Both succeeded in establishing themselves on the throne, after the most precarious vicissitudes. Each conducted her kingdom, through a long and triumphant reign, to a height of glory which it never before reached. Both lived to see the vanity of all earthly grandeur, and to fall the victims of an inconsolable melancholy; and both left behind an illustrious name, unrivalled in the annals of their country.

“But with these few circumstances of their history, the resemblance ceases. Their characters afford scarcely a point of contact. Elizabeth, inheriting a large share of the bold and bluff King Harry’s temperament, was haughty, arrogant, coarse, and irascible, while with these fiercer qualities she mingled deep dissimulation and strange irresolution. Isabella, on the other hand, tempered the dignity of royal station with the most bland and courteous manners. Once resolved, she was constant in her purposes; and her conduct in public and private life was characterized by candor and integrity. Both may be said to have shown that magnanimity which is implied by the accomplishment of great objects in the face of great obstacles. But Elizabeth was desperately selfish; she was incapable of forgiving, not merely a real injury, but the slightest affront to her vanity; and she was merciless in exacting retribution. Isabella, on the other hand, lived only for others; was ready at all times to sacrifice self to considerations of public duty; and, far from personal resentment, showed the greatest condescension and kindness to those who had most sensibly injured her; while her benevolent heart sought every means to mitigate the authorized severities of the law, even towards the guilty.

“Both possessed rare fortitude. Isabella, indeed, was placed in situations which demanded more frequent and higher displays of it than her rival; but no one will doubt a full measure of this quality in the daughter of Henry VIII. Elizabeth was better educated, and every way more highly accomplished, than Isabella. But the latter knew enough to maintain her station with dignity, and she encouraged learning by a munificent patronage. The masculine powers and passions of Elizabeth seemed to divorce her, in a great measure, from the peculiar attributes of her sex; at least from those which constitute its peculiar charm; for she had abundance of foibles; a coquetry and a love of admiration which age could not chill; a levity most careless, if not criminal; and a fondness for dress and tawdry magnificence of ornament which was ridiculous or disgusting, according to the different periods of life in which it was indulged. Isabella, on the other hand, distinguished through life for decorum of manners, and purity beyond the breath of calumny, was content with the legitimate affection which she could inspire within the range of her domestic circle. Far from a frivolous affectation of ornament or dress, she was most simple in her own attire, and seemed to set no value on her jewels, but as they could serve the necessities of the state; when they could be no longer useful in this way, she gave them away to her friends.

“Both were uncommonly sagacious in the selection of their ministers, though Elizabeth was drawn into some errors, in this particular, by her levity, as was Isabella by her religious feeling. It was this, combined with her excessive humility, which led to the only grave errors in the administration of the latter. Her rival fell into no such errors; and she was a stranger to the amiable qualities which led to them. Her conduct was certainly not controlled by religious principle; and, though the bulwark of the Protestant faith, it might be difficult to say whether she were at heart most a Protestant or a Catholic. She viewed religion in its connection with the state, – in other words, with herself; and she took measures for enforcing conformity to her own views, not a whit less despotic, and scarcely less sanguinary, than those countenanced for conscience’ sake by her more bigoted rival.

“This feature of bigotry, which has thrown a shade over Isabella’s otherwise beautiful character, might lead to a disparagement of her intellectual power, compared with that of the English queen. To estimate this aright, we must contemplate the results of their respective reigns. Elizabeth found all the materials of prosperity at hand, and availed herself of them most ably to build up a solid fabric of national grandeur. Isabella created these materials. She saw the faculties of her people locked up in a death-like lethargy, and she breathed into them the breath of life, for those great and heroic enterprises which terminated in such glorious consequences to the monarchy. It is when viewed from the depressed position of her early days, that the achievements of her reign seem scarcely leas than miraculous. The masculine genius of the English queen stands out relieved beyond its natural dimensions by its separation from the softer qualities of her sex; while her rival, like some vast and symmetrical edifice, loses, in appearance, somewhat of its actual grandeur, from the perfect harmony of its proportions.

“The circumstances of their deaths, which were somewhat similar, displayed the great dissimilarity of their characters. Both pined amidst their royal state, a prey to incurable despondency, rather than any marked bodily distemper. In Elizabeth it sprang from wounded vanity; a sullen conviction that she had outlived the admiration on which she had so long fed, and even the solace of friendship, and the attachment of her subjects. Nor did she seek consolation where alone it was to be found, in that sad hour. Isabella, on the other hand, sank under a too acute sensibility to the sufferings of others. But, amidst the gloom which gathered around her, she looked, with the eye of faith, to the brighter prospects which unfolded of the future. And, when she resigned her last breath, it was with the tears and universal lamentations of her people. It is in this undying, unabated attachment of the nation, indeed, that we see the most unequivocal testimony to the virtues of Isabella. Her own subjects extol her as ‘the most brilliant exemplar of every virtue,’ and mourn over the day of her death as ‘the last of the prosperity and happiness of the country;’ while those who had nearer access to her person are unbounded in their admiration of those amiable qualities whose full power is revealed only in the unrestrained intimacies of domestic life.”

JOAN OF ARC

This interesting and extraordinary girl, surnamed the “Maid of Orleans,” from her heroic defence of that city, was born about the year 1410, or ’11, in the little hamlet of Domremy, near the Meuse, and about three leagues south of Vaucouleurs, on the borders of Champagne. Her parents were humble and honest peasants. The district was remarkable for the devout simplicity of its inhabitants, as well as for those romantic superstitions, which, in a rude age, are so often allied with religion. It appears from the copious depositions of witnesses from Domremy, examined at Joan’s trial, that she was unremitting in her prayers and other religious exercises, and was strongly imbued, at a very early age, with the prevailing superstitions of her native place.

During that period of anarchy in France, when the supreme power, which had fallen from the hands of a monarch deprived of his reason, was contended for by the rival houses of Orleans and Burgundy, the conflicting parties carried on war more by murder and massacre than by regular battles. When an army was wanted, both had recourse to the English; and these conquering strangers made the unfortunate French feel still deeper the horrors and ravages of war. At first, the popular feeling was undecided; but when, on the death of Charles VI., the crown fell to a young prince, who adopted the Armagnac side, whilst the house of Burgundy had sworn allegiance to a foreigner, Henry V., as king of France, – then, indeed, the wishes and interests of all the French were in favor of the Armagnacs, or the truly patriotic party. Remote as was the village of Domremy, it was still interested in the issue of the struggle. It was decidedly Armagnac, and was strengthened in this sentiment by the rivalry of a neighboring village, which adopted Burgundian colors.

Political and party interests were thus forced upon the enthusiastic mind of Joan, and mingled with the pious legends she had caught from the traditions of the virgin. A prophecy was current that a virgin should rid France of her enemies, and this prophecy seems to have been realized by its effect upon the mind of Joan. The girl, by her own account, was about thirteen, when a supernatural vision first appeared to her. She describes it as a great light, accompanied by a voice, telling her to be devout and good, and promising her the protection of Heaven. Joan responded by a vow of eternal chastity. From that time, the voice or voices continued to haunt Joan, and to echo the enthusiastic and restless wishes of her own heart. Her own simple account was, that “voices” were her visitors and advisers, and that they prompted her to quit her native place, take up arms, drive the foe before her, and procure for the young king his coronation at Rheims. These voices, however, had not influence enough to induce her to set out upon the hazardous mission, until a band of Burgundians, traversing and plundering the country, had compelled Joan, together with her parents, to take refuge in a neighboring town: when they returned to their village, after the departure of the marauders, they found the church of Domremy in ashes.

Such incidents were well calculated to arouse the indignation and excite the enthusiasm of Joan. Her “voices” returned, and incessantly directed her to set out for Orleans, but to commence by making application to De Baudricourt, commander at Vaucouleurs. Her parents, who were acquainted with Joan’s martial propensities, attempted to force her into a marriage; but she contrived to avoid this by paying a visit to an uncle, in whose company she made her appearance before the governor of Vaucouleurs, in May, 1428. De Baudricourt at first refused to see her, and, upon granting an interview, treated her pretensions with contempt. She then returned to her uncle’s abode, where she continued to announce her project, and to insist that the prophecy that “France, lost by a woman, – Isabel of Bavaria, – should be saved by a virgin from the frontiers of Lorraine,” alluded to her. She it was, she asserted, who could save France, and not “either kings, or dukes, nor yet the king of Scotland’s daughter” – an expression which proves how well-informed she was as to the political events and rumors of the day.

The fortunes of the dauphin Charles, at this time, had sunk to the lowest ebb. Orleans, almost his last bulwark, was besieged and closely pressed, and the loss of the battle of “Herrings” seemed to take away all hope of saving the city from the English. In this crisis, when all human support seemed unavailing, Baudricourt no longer despised the supernatural aid promised by the damsel of Domremy, and gave permission to John of Metz and Bertram of Poulengy, two gentlemen who had become converts to the truth of her divine mission, to conduct Joan of Arc to the dauphin. They purchased a horse for her, and, at her own desire, furnished her with male habits, and other necessary equipments. Thus provided, and accompanied by a respectable escort, Joan set out for Vaucouleurs on the 13th February, 1429. Her progress through regions attached to the Burgundian interest was perilous, but she safely arrived at Fierbois, a place within five or six leagues of Chinon, where the dauphin then held his court. At Fierbois was a celebrated church dedicated to St. Catherine; and here she spent her time in devotion, whilst a messenger was despatched to the dauphin to announce her approach. She was commanded to proceed, and reached Chinon on the eleventh day after her departure from Vaucouleurs.

Charles, though he desired, still feared, the proffered aid. After due consultation, however, it was concluded to grant Joan’s request, and she received the rank of a military commander. A suit of armor was made for her, and she sent to Fierbois for a sword which, she said, would be found buried in a certain spot in the church. It was found there, and conveyed to her. The circumstance became afterwards one of the alleged proofs of her sorcery or imposture. Her having passed some time at Fierbois among the ecclesiastics of the place, must have led, in some way or other, to her knowledge of the deposit. Strong in the conviction of her mission, it was Joan’s desire to enter Orleans from the north, and through all the fortifications of the English. Dunois, however, and the other leaders at length overruled her, and induced her to abandon the little company of pious companions which she had raised, and to enter the beleaguered city by water, as the least perilous path. She succeeded in carrying with her a convoy of provisions to the besieged.

The entry of Joan of Arc into Orleans, at the end of April, was itself a triumph. The hearts of the besieged were raised from despair to a fanatical confidence of success; and the English, who in every encounter had defeated the French, felt their courage paralyzed by the coming of this simple girl. We cannot give the details of the wonderful events that followed; it must suffice to say, that the French were inspired with the utmost courage, and after a series of great achievements, in which the wonderful maiden took the lead, the siege was raised. Thus, in one week after her arrival, the beleaguered city was relieved. The most incredible of her promises was now fulfilled, and she henceforth received the title of “Maid of Orleans.”

The French now carried all before them, under the guidance of this maiden leader; and, in three months after she came to the relief of Charles, he was crowned at Rheims, which had surrendered to his arms. After a series of successes, she was in one instance defeated, and finally was captured in a sally against the enemy, May, 1430. She was now handed over to the English partisans in France, brought to trial on the charge of sorcery, and condemned to death. A pile of wood was prepared in the market-place at Rouen, and, encircled by a body of judges and ecclesiastics, she was then burned to death, and her ashes thrown into the Seine. This took place in May, 1431. Thus perished one of the most pure, lovely, and exalted beings that ever lived. In 1454, a revision of her sentence took place, and a monument was erected to her honor, on the spot where she had been inhumanly put to death.

notes

1

For summoning juries.

2

President Adams survived his excellent lady several years, and died on the 4th of July, 1826, aged ninety-one. On the morning of the jubilee, he was roused by the ringing of bells and the firing of cannon. Being asked if he knew what day it was, he replied, “O yes, it is the glorious 4th of July – God bless it! God bless you all!” Just before he expired, he said, “Jefferson survives;” but at one o’clock that very day, Jefferson rendered up his spirit to his Maker. The family residence of John Adams at Quincy is the residence of his distinguished son, John Quincy Adams.

3

American Portrait Gallery.

4

Now Louis Philippe, king of France.

5

The Duke of Chartres, afterwards Duke of Orleans, and now Louis Philippe, king of the French, was born at Paris, October 6th, 1773. His education has been described in the preceding pages. In 1791, he served in the army, and subsequently held various military stations, in which he displayed great gallantry. In 1793, having expressed his horror at the excesses of the revolution, a decree of arrest was levelled against him. To escape this, he went to Switzerland, where he met his sister and Madame de Genlis, as related. During his wanderings over this country, he had to contend with fatigue, poverty, and persecution. He travelled from place to place, often alone, and destitute of money.

After the death of his father, Switzerland no longer became a safe place for him, and he went to Hamburg, to escape to America. But here his funds failed him, and he spent some time in travelling in Norway and Lapland, proceeding even to the North Cape. In September, 1796, he embarked for America, where he was joined by his brothers, the Duke of Montpensier and Count Beaujolais. They travelled through the country, though often distressed for the want of money. After various wanderings, they reached England. The Duke of Montpensier died in 1807; and the Count Beaujolais soon after. In November, 1809, Louis Philippe was married, at Palermo, to the Princess Amelia, daughter of the king of Sicily. On the restoration of the Bourbons in 1815, he returned to Paris, and inherited a large part of the immense wealth of his father. In 1830, he was elevated to the throne. His family presents a model of union, good morals, and domestic virtue, and he is himself one of the ablest of living sovereigns. If his character is in any considerable degree owing to his education, – and we cannot doubt that it is, – it furnishes an imperishable monument to the honor of Madame de Genlis.

6

The position of Madame de Genlis does not permit her to do justice to the character of the Duke of Orleans, which is one of the most infamous in history. He was born in 1747, and was descended from the Duke of Orleans, only brother of Louis XIV. In his youth he was distinguished for his licentiousness, and during the revolution he acquired an unfortunate notoriety. He joined the Jacobins, and coöperated with Robespierre, Marat, and Danton. He renounced his royal titles, and assumed that of M. Egalité. He voted for the death of his relative, Louis XVI., and was present at his execution. But the storm he had assisted to raise was now directed against him. He was included in the general proscription of the Bourbons, and was guillotined November 6th, 1793. His wife, who sustained an excellent character, returned to Paris after the restoration, and died in 1821.

7

Lord Edward Fitzgerald was the son of the Duke of Leinster, and born in Ireland, October 15th, 1763. He was educated for the military profession, and served in the American war with credit. He was an ardent lover of liberty, and deeply felt the wrongs done to his native country by the British government. He hailed the French revolution as the dawn of universal freedom: in 1792 he went to Paris, and participated in the intoxication of that eventful era. After his marriage to Pamela, he went to Ireland, and became one of the leaders in the rebellion of 1798. He became obnoxious to the government, and was arrested while concealed in a house in Dublin. He was at the time in bed: he resisted fiercely, and wounded two of the officers, one of them mortally. He received a pistol ball in his shoulder, and, being confined in Newgate, died June 4th, 1798.

He was a man of remarkable elevation and singleness of mind, and was greatly endeared to his friends. The letters written by different members of his family, at the time of his arrest and during his confinement in prison, published by his biographer, Moore, are among the most touching that were ever penned. Their attachment to their unfortunate relation amounted almost to idolatry.

His wife, who had three children at the time of his death, seems to have been a fit partner for so noble a spirit. The letters above alluded to depict her character as one of extraordinary elevation and loveliness. Some doubt about her parentage has existed; but, as we have given the statement of Madame de Genlis upon the subject, it does not seem necessary to say more. She returned to France, and her remains are deposited in the cemetery of Mont Martre, at Paris.