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The Rev. Mr. King, who happened to be present at the ceremony, preserved the pen with which the signature was written, and has since placed it among the memorabilia in Dr. Lee's Museum, where it now remains.

The apartments for the accommodation of the Queen were those immediately over the library, and are notable for aspect, convenience, and command of view. Her Majesty died in the large room of this subdivision of the house, and was laid in state therein for several days, during which it was open to the public, when a large concourse of spectators was admitted. The apartment was next occupied by the ex-King of Sweden; and since—longe intervallum-by the writer of these pages during his frequent visits, to whom its vicinity to the library and the observatory recommended it.

The north-west angle of the same front of the building was occupied by Monsieur the Comte d'Artois, afterwards Charles the Tenth, whose character did not fully develope itself at Hartwell, although he, of all the party, was most accustomed to appear in public, by riding about the country. Somehow or other none of the Buckinghamshire gentlemen liked him, though, as in the noted case of Doctor Fell, it might be difficult to tell why: but this can hardly be thought singular, since he was never favourably spoken of with reference to his domestic relations. Unlike his brother the King, he was improvident in his habits, unprincipled in pecuniary matters, haughty in behaviour, perverse in disposition, and weak in intellectual stamina. It was impossible for such a man to gain popularity; nor did the signal chute of 1830 occasion surprise among those who knew him.

The room next to the chamber of the Comte d'Artois, and south of it, was assigned to the unfortunate Duc de Berri, who fell by the hand of an assassin in February 1820, while returning from the opera with his young wife. He was sensible, affable, and brave, qualities which greatly endeared him to those who were about him; and there were many circumstances in his chequered life which proved his goodness of heart. His tragical fate seems to have been greatly regretted in France, except by those who sighed for the extinction of the Bourbon race; and many of the Gallic visitors to Hartwell since the event, have deplored him in better feeling than poetry, as hath been seen in the lighter sheets of the periodical press. In 1822, a paper was found wafered over the fire-place of this room, on which are the following verses, by Count Marcellus, a Member of the French Chamber of Deputies—

Hartwell! nous conserva la Royale Famille

Qu'entourent nos respects, nos vœux, et notre amour.

Le Roi, cher à nos cœurs, son adorable fille,

Ensemble ont habité cet auguste séjour.

Combien pour les Français cet asyle a de charmes!

Il me rappelle aussi nos maux et nos allarmes.

Et je me sens frappé d'un cruel souvenir:

Ils étoient cinq hélas!-mais-essuyons nos larmes:
Nous en avons sept à chérir.

Another Parnassian visitor in 1828-Mons. St. Elme Petit-blesses the very walls:

Salut aux Murs Sacrés, dont l'enceinte modeste
Renferma des Bourbons le plus auguste reste.

And a third, under the initials N. C. who afterwards arrived at Hartwell, thus expressed himself in poetical prose

66

Le 10 Mai, 1831. Je suis venu saluer l'asyle ou le
Roi de France, le Père de la Patrie, méditait dans les
douleurs d'un long exil-qu'il supportait si noblement
-la prosperité, la gloire, la liberté du beau pays au
quel il destinait la Charte Constitutionelle.

The handsome apartments at the south-west angle of this floor were inhabited by the Duc and Duchesse d'Angoulême and their principal attendants. The Duchess, as the suffering 'Orphan of the Temple," and spirited "Daughter of France," was perhaps the most interesting personage among the band of exiles, and her early display of energy, penetrating understanding, and tender feeling for the misfortunes of others, were well remembered. But the brutal treatment and execution of her parents, and the other dreadful scenes of her tender years, had made so deep and lasting an impression on her mind as greatly to influence her manner and even stamp an habitual melancholy on her appearance,-insomuch that at times the sadness of her presence excited a painful sympathy. Yet this enduring princess was active and useful: she generally rose at five in the summer and six in the winter, walked hastily when in the grounds, and was averse to being noticed. Although a truly devoted Roman Catholic, she would occasionally look in at the parish church-door, sometimes with the Duke, during divine service; and she expressed to my late respected friend the Rev. Mr. Lockart, the officiating minister in Hartwell, her admiration of the decorous order observed in the Protestant forms of worship. Her piety did not escape the sarcasm of the Buonapartists after the Restoration, and in all their caricatures of the royal family which filled the print-shops of Paris after the departure for Lille, she was always, as if incapable of other occupation, represented on her knees before a prie-Dieu.* The frightful occasion, however, of the "hundred days" called forth an energy, and displayed a spirit, both royal and heroic; since she rose from her

*It was not the genuflections only of this princess which drew the gaze of the Parisians; for a main object of remark, on seeing the daughter of a murdered King return from a quarter of a century's exile, was the smallness of her bonnet and its tournure Anglaise. An incident of a similar kind had fallen under my own notice in the spring of the same year, 1814, when-being charged with an important communication for Murat's cabinet-I was one of the first Englishmen who for years had visited Naples in freedom. On this occasion I had the pleasure of accompanying the Duchess of Sangro and her two amiable daughters from Sicily, they having obtained permission to revisit their home; and on our moving about, the lively inhabitants, with every mark of gratification at our appearance among them, emitted audible tokens of surprise in their rich dialect at the "Furastere cu cappillietti Ingresi "—" Han' a essere Furastere, cu sti miezz' cappiell," &c. worn by these Anglicised ladies. Fashion is despotic: on my return to Naples shortly afterwards, the tall cones surmounted with flowers had disappeared from the heads of all the females, and close English bonnets had replaced them.

knees, mounted her horse, harangued the soldiers, and acted in all respects with the courage and address of another Elizabeth.

On one of my earliest visits to Hartwell, her bed-room was allotted to me, and I generally slept in it until the observatory was commenced, when I removed to the Queen's apartment, and retained its occasional use for nearly twenty years. But it was impossible on first reposing in the d'Angoulême chamber, to suppress the tragic recollections of the modern Antigone and her times. Then arose homilies on governments, and whether the sciences which inform and enlighten, the arts which polish, and the morality and devotion which purify mankind, were most efficiently cultivated in monarchies or so-called republics: such reveries lasted-till the soft pensive strains of song, murmur'd the living lyre along—and in the morning, somehow or other, the subjoined doggrel lines were gathered

And this is, then, the room where Louis' daughter
A refuge found for six revolving years,
Here, 'scap'd those scenes of wickedness and slaughter,
Which made the world, to her, a vale of tears.
And here that persecuted, suffering stranger
Reposed secure from treachery and danger.

Ah! hapless princess, though thy griefs suppressing,
Thy care-worn features prove thy early sorrow:
Adversity is held to be a blessing

Which numbers may with much advantage borrow-
And kings themselves, albeit by pomp surrounded,
Have oft-times felt the axiom truly founded:

But thy green years, and sex, were, ah! too tender,
So deeply of the bitter cup to drink;

Nor can we marvel at the meek surrender

Which made thy mind in gloomy sadness shrink—
Thou! whose deep sighs burst from a bosom tortured
For friends, for relatives, for parents slaughter'd.

Pale History sickens o'er the dismal page

Which calls to memory that frantic hour,
When ruffian-hordes, inured to murd'rous rage,
Ruled in the wantonness of lawless power;
And Anarchy in blood and rapine revell'd
Among the ruin'd shrines by fury levell'd.

Then through those halls, where chivalry of erst
Was wont the pomp of monarchy to swell,
Loud shrieks of terror from the carnage burst,

While the demoniac roar and frightful yell
Of drunken bacchanals-insanely driven
By glut of blood and pillage-startled Heaven.

Yet, while we execrate the rabble's madness,

And mourn humanity so vilely crush'd,
All must acknowledge, though th'assent's in sadness,
(A truth by history no longer hush'd)
That, though the canaille's doings were ferocious,
Thy grand-sire's deeds were scarcely less atrocious.

Yes! 'twas the son of Louis, styled victorious,

Who the sharp penury of his realms increased;
Louis the Vain! in war or peace inglorious,

In taste and passion less a man than beast.
A king who rent the ties of states asunder,

By lust, by sloth, by knavery, and plunder.

Need the muse dwell on gaming, gluttony, revels,
The vapid jest, the irreligious scoff,
The dire propensities, the monstrous evils,

Or obscene horrors of the Parc-au-Cerf?

Fain she would not-fain would forget vexations
Which made the throne of France the scorn of nations.

"Tis true, the monster gasp'd his dying breath
In ignominious safety on his bed,
While his successor met, from headsman, death,
To a sad scaffold by vile miscreants led:
The tyrant from a palace seeks his tomb-
The good man passes from his dungeon-room.

Yet still to all was shown the awful token,
How retribution waits the guilty course,

And that dread sentence to the prophet spoken

From the inscrutable mysterious source―

Now proved, though sin awhile maintains a station,
'Tis ever punish'd in its generation.

Having thus conducted the reader through the royal apartments, it will be needless to drag him through the rest; though an account of some of them in detail might prove amusing enough. To the curious in such matters I may mention that, though the light partitions and other "landmarks" of ingenious adaptation to circumstance have disappeared, Dr. Lee possesses a manuscript folio inscribed—“ Hartwell House,-Inventaire des Meubles qui appartiennent au Roi, et à Mr le Cher Ley (Sir George Lee), 1809 "—in which all the various apartments are numbered, and the names of their occupiers given; together with a statement of every article of furniture therein. But, though I thus pass the rooms, I subjoin a list of those occupiers of them who were, at one period or other, considered as permanent residents:

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Of these, the Comte de la Chapelle, Dr. Colignon-medicus illustrissimus, M. Bauer, M. Antoine, and two servants of the establishment, died during the occupation, and were allowed intermentfree from the bigoted restrictions of Roman Catholic states-in the Hartwell-parish burial ground.

During the King's residence at Hartwell, it is reported that he received an allowance of 20,000l. a-year from the British Government: but a Buckinghamshire gentleman, who occasionally visited the royal exiles, states that the sum was divided, namely 14,000l. for his Majesty, and 6,000l. for the Duc d'Angoulême. In either case it was a liberal supply; and the tenantry of the neighbourhood were greatly benefited by the increased consumption of beef, mutton, poultry, butter, cream, milk, fruit, vegetables, and other specimens of the fat of the Vale of Aylesbury. Several of the old farmers have regretted to me their loss of this source of profit.

After the culmination of Napoleon's star, the prospects of the Bourbons revived; and upon the entry of the allied armies into France they became brilliant. It was soon seen that the tide had turned; and he who had for years remained almost unnoticed, the Sage of Hartwell, was now mobbed by visitors and pestered with addresses. His calm prudence however still prevailed, and he made his various arrangements and preparations for getting under weigh, as coolly as if only

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