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a close carriage, with the blinds down. Yet it was not from the population that he was in any danger of insult, but from his allies the Prussians, who were at the time mining the bridge of Jena, for the purpose of blowing it up next day. Louis threatened to get himself transported to the bridge and placed upon it in his armchair.* The Duke of Wellington's interference had more effect. After one explosion, Blücher was persuaded to await the arrival of Alexander, who came on the 10th, and saved the bridge, as well as the column of the Place Vendôme, whence only the statue was lowered. Louis the Eighteenth was not so fortunate in preserving the integrity of the Louvre. The omission to restore the captured works of art had been source of comment and regret amongst the allies in 1814. The Prussians proceeded at once to take the few works of art belonging to their provinces. The government of the Low Countries redemanded its Rubens and Rembrandts. The Duke of Wellington, as well as Lord Castlereagh, were opposed to the spoliation of the Louvre, but Lord Liverpool and the Prince Regent strongly insisted on the work of retaliation. The Duke could not resist, and supported the Dutch in their demands. The Italian requisition was more serious. The French still blame Canova for having presided over the commission charged with selecting the chefs-d'ouvre that had appertained to Italy. Can an Italian be censured for restoring his country's works of art to their own capital?
Nothing more strongly shows the softening and civilising effects of large social intercourse than the conduct of different men at this crisis. Wellington and Castlereagh were probably of no very opposite character from Lord Liverpool and the Prince Regent. Yet the former, who had been abroad in foreign capitals and congresses, had grown mild and generous,
* If Louis did not say this, Beugnot said it for him.
whilst those who had never ceased to be surrounded by their insular prejudices were barbarous in their resentments. Blücher breathed nothing but vengeance. And even Alexander, so philosophic in 1814, would no longer listen to the same men and the same observations which had pleased him then.* Yet the French showed much submission. Although the provinces were occupied and ravaged by a million and a half of invaders, the civil authorities bullied and some of them sent off to Russia or to Prussia for not com. plying with rude orders, still every head bowed. The army behind the Loire, after having in vain tried to make some terms, submitted and assumed the white cockade. This in nowise abated the desire of vengeance, which animated the allies even more than the French Royalists. They insisted on examples. It may be imagined what was urged by Russia, Prussia, and Austria, when the British press, with the exception of its Whig organ, clamoured for French victims, and even published lists of Frenchmen who deserved to be hanged on the Place de Grève.
Fouché, seeking to satisfy this thirst, chiefly of the foreigner, for proscription, drew up a list of some twenty persons to be arrested and tried, and treble that number to be exiled. The minister no doubt hoped that those threatened would escape, and that the exile of the others would be but temporary. Unfortunately, Labedoyère came to Paris, and exposed himself to capture, as Marshal Ney did later, when it was found impossible to stop the vengeance of the reactionists in any other way than by their death. Davoust, after having procured the submission of the Loire and its adoption of the white cockade, was astounded to see several of his generals on the fatal list, nay, to perceive the name of one who had not even served during the Hundred Days.
He immediately sent in his resignation, and was replaced CHAP. by Macdonald. St. Cyr had a difficult position at the war office. He insisted on Louis the Eighteenth not repeating the mistake of appointing household troops, and a privileged guard, to the exclusion of the old soldiers. Instead of listening to him, the court organised the guard, and M. de Vitrolles sent St. Cyr a list of the colonels. The latter declared that he was no longer war minister, since Vitrolles exercised the office. It was with difficulty that Talleyrand persuaded St. Cyr to retain his ministry. His and Macdonald's countenance and co-operation were indeed indispensable to accomplish another exigency of the allied sovereigns, the dissolution of the army behind the Loire.
Ministers consoled themselves for the compulsory performance of these unpopular acts by the hope that, as passions settled down, moderation might prevail, and that a new chamber freely representing the national mind would support a king and his government by checking reaction and entering upon a policy of conciliation. Never was hope more vain. The country was a volcano in whose depths boiled all the passions both of the revolution and of the class which had been its victims. Those of the revolution were much the strongest, but their force had been for the moment exhausted, whilst a million and a half of foreign soldiers pressed upon the soil. Royalist passions were thus alone allowed an issue, and they showed themselves as ruthless and sanguinary, and far more bigoted, than even those which had outraged humanity under the convention.
No part of France had more eagerly welcomed and more powerfully impelled the revolution than the south. It imbrued its hands in the blood of priests and nobles. The population afterwards found reason to regret its handywork. The south owed its prosperity and even its food supply to Mediterranean trade. This was for
CHAP many years cut off. Provence and Languedoc pined in
consequence. The clergy recovered their influence, and preached unfortunately neither humanity nor tolerance. Nowhere more than in the south prevailed that jealousy which the lower and the needy class entertain of what they call the bourgeois, which had become prosperous by industry. The same middle class was generally hated by the relics of the old gentry. The Duke d’Angoulême in 1814 had raised bands in the south to resist Napoleon. They called themselves Royalist volunteers. Beaten by the Imperial generals, they still held together; and when the news came of Napoleon's defeat, they collected again for ascendency and revenge. Owing to these causes, the city of Marseilles, when tidings of Waterloo reached it, was in complete insurrection. General Verdier, who was there with a few troops, withdrew to Toulouse, and Marseilles became a scene of plunder and massacre. The citizens stigmatised as Bonapartists were robbed and slain. Other towns would not be left behind in the work of vengeance and rapine. In the fertile district at the foot of the Cevennes, the Protestants formed the bourgeoisie—they were the well-todo, the industrious population. The ragamuffins resolved to plunder these, and hoisted the flag of religious orthodoxy to prove their right to murder. The article of the charter making Catholicism the state religion, and the evident tendency to restore the Church its power and ascendency, had alarmed the Protestants of the south, and they had accordingly welcomed the return of Napoleon. His fall, therefore, was the signal for their enemies to take vengeance. And a general massacre of the Protestants took place, especially at Nisines. Ruffians of the name of Trestaillons and Truphemie, led bands which acted up to the fell spirit of Bartholomew's eve, and of the September massacres, and deluged the country with blood.
The most illustrious victim was Marshal Brune,
who had so gallantly defended Holland. He had no doubt been a Terrorist in his day. Arnaud, in his memoirs, describes him as one of the most active members of the Cordelier club. He had quitted the command at Toulouse, and was journeying north, by Avignon, when he was stopped at the post-house of that town, signalised as a Bonapartist, or worse, and compelled to take refuge in the principal inn, which is near the Rhone. Here Brune was soon besieged by the ferocious mob of Avignon, there being no military force to keep them in order. The authorities and a few national guards did all in their power to save the marshal. But the mob scaled the wall, got into the inn by the roof, reached the room in which Brune was, and shot him.
There was an attempt to conduct the body to burial, but the mob tore it from the coffin and precipitated it into the Rhone. General Ramel underwent a similar fate at Toulouse. And the execution of the brothers Faucher at Bordeaux, though preceded by a mock trial, was scarcely less an act of murder.
Whilst the government of Talleyrand and Fouché was thus so little able to prevent the crimes of the ultra-Royalists in the provinces, it was less so to resist their influence or violence in the elections. On the nature of these, in fact, depended the future course of politics. The Chamber of Peers had been remodelled, by no means in a liberal sense. All those who had consented to sit in the Senate of the Hundred Days were removed aside, with the exception of Lanjuinais, Boissy d'Anglas, and Molé. Some eighty new peers were added. The number of deputies was also increased to 402. Napoleon had set the example of not recurring to real and popular elections, having left the old electoral colleges still in possession of their exclusive rights. The Restoration now did the same. The district colleges were merely to elect candidates