Yet, amid the clash of weapons and the roar of revolutions, the
voice of the unfortunate prince was overborne. He had no soldiers,
no cannon, to enforce silence and make himself be heard. But the
Duke d'Orleans, Louis Philippe, had soldiers and cannon; and the
arms of his dependants, and the magic of his wealth, placed him upon
the throne in July, 1830. [Footnote: It was the 9th of August.--Tr.]
The poor Baron de Richemont, the son of kings, the last of the
Bourbons in France, had now a single friend, who, perhaps, would
receive him. This friend was the Duke de Bourbon--Conde, now an old
man of eighty years. One day, some weeks after the accession of
Louis Philippe, the Duke de Bourbon received at his palace of St.
Leu a gentleman whom nobody knew, who announced himself as the Baron
de Richemont.
The duke went out into the anteroom, greeted his guest with the
greatest deference, and led him into his cabinet. There the two
gentlemen carried on a long and earnest conversation, and the
secretary of the duke, who was at work in the library hard by,
distinctly heard his master say, with trembling tones: "Sire, I
implore you, forgive me. The circumstances were stronger than my
will. Sire, go not into judgment with me--forgive me."
To this an angry voice replied: "No, I will not forgive you, for you
have dealt perfidiously with the son, as you did once with the
mother! You have not redeemed the oath that you once gave me.
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