No More Learning

My present state
wearies me. Our conquerors, who call us their allies, treat us
really like slaves. They exhaust us to fill their treasury, which
in their language they call the basket: this basket is a bottomless
abyss. I am weary of submitting to their yoke: but the yoke
of their enemies frightens me; those north men are, it is said,
very rapacious, and their battle-axes are very sharp. For mercy's
sake, tell me whose side I shall take. " "My son," replied the
holy man, "you must be on the side of God: God in the present
day is on the side of the idolatrous north against the heretical
south. The men of the north will be your masters: I can pre-
dict this; for I myself, with my own hands, have just opened
your gates to them. " Jacques was stunned by these words; he
had not recovered from his bewilderment when a great noise of
arms and horses, together with strange acclamations, told him
that all was over. He saw men of great height, and speaking
from the throat, hurry into his dwelling, divide the furniture into
lots, and measure the land in order to divide it. Jacques was sad;
-


## p. 14806 (#380) ##########################################

14806
AUGUSTIN THIERRY
but feeling that there was no remedy, he endeavored to become
reconciled to his fate. He looked patiently at the thieves; and
when their chief passed, he saluted him by the cry of Vivat
rex! which the chief did not understand. The strangers distrib-
uted the booty, settled on their portions of land, reviewed their
forces, exercised themselves in arms, assembled in councils, and
decreed laws of police and war for themselves, without thinking
more of Jacques than if he had never existed. He stood at a
distance, awaiting an official notice of his destiny, and practicing
with a great deal of trouble to pronounce the barbaric names of
men in high stations among his new masters. Several of these
euphoniously disfigured names may be restored in the following
manner: Merowig, Chlodowig, Hilderik, Hildebert, Sighebert,
Karl, etc.
Jacques at last received his sentence: it was a formal act,
drawn up by the friend and compatriot who had made himself the
introducer of the conquerors; and who, as the price of such serv-
ice, had received from their bounty the finest portion of the culti-
vated land and the Greek title of Episcopus-which the conquerors
transformed into that of Biscop and granted without understand-
ing it. Jacques, who until then had been called Romanus, the
Roman, from the name of his first masters, saw himself qualified
in this new diploma with the title of litus seu villanus noster;
and ordered, under pain of the rod and cord, to cultivate the
land himself for the benefit of the strangers. The word litus
was new to his ears; he asked an explanation, and he was told
that this word, derived from the Germanic verb let or lát, per-
mit or leave, really signified that they had the kindness to let
him live. This favor appeared to him rather a slight one; and
he took a fancy to solicit others from the assembly of the pos-
sessors of his domain, which was held on fixed days in the open
air, in a vast field. The chiefs stood in the midst, and the mul-
titude surrounded them; decisions were made in common, and
each man gave his opinion, from the highest to the lowest- -a
maximo usque ad minimum. Jacques went to that august council;
but at his approach a murmur of contempt was raised, and the
guards forbade him to advance, threatening him with the wood
of their lances. One of the strangers, more polite than the
others, and who knew how to speak good Latin, told him the
cause of this treatment: "The assembly of the masters of this
land," said he, "dominorum territorii, is interdicted to men of


## p. 14807 (#381) ##########################################

AUGUSTIN THIERRY
14807
your class, to those whom we call 'liti vel litones, et istius
modi viles inopesque personæ. '»
-
Jacques went sadly to work: he had to feed, clothe, warm,
and lodge his masters; he worked for many years, during which
time his condition barely changed, but, during which, on the other
hand, he saw the vocabulary by which his miserable condition
was designated increase prodigiously. In several inventories that
were drawn up at the same time, he saw himself ignominiously
confounded with the trees and flocks of the domain, under the
common name of clothing of the land, terræ vestitus; he was
called live money, pecunia vive, body serf, addictus gleba, bond-
man in the idiom of the conquerors. In times of clemency and
mercy, only six days' labor out of seven was demanded of him.
Jacques was sober; he lived on little, and endeavored to save: but
more than once his slender savings were taken from him in vir-
tue of that incontestable axiom, "Quæ servi sunt, ea sunt domini,"
what the serf possesses is the master's property.
Whilst Jacques worked and suffered, his masters quarreled
amongst themselves, either from vanity or interest. More than
once they deposed their chiefs; more than once their chiefs
oppressed them; more than once opposite factions waged a civil
war. Jacques always bore the weight of these disputes: no party
spared him; he always had to bear the anger of the conquered
and the pride of the conquerors. It happened that the chief of
the conquering community pretended to have the sole real claims
on the land, the labor, the body and the soul of poor Jacques.
Jacques, credulous and trusting to an excess because his woes
were innumerable, allowed himself to be persuaded to give his con-
sent to these pretensions, and accept the title of "subjugated by
the chief," subjectus regis; in the modern jargon, "subject of the
king. " In virtue of this title, Jacques only paid the king fixed
taxes, tallias rationabiles, which was far from meaning reasonable
taxes. But although nominally become the property of the chief,
he was not therefore free from the exactions of the subalterns.
Jacques paid first on one side, then on the other; fatigue was
wearing him out. He entreated repose: the laughing reply was,
"Bonhomme cries out, but bonhomme must pay. " Jacques bore
with misfortune: he was unable to tolerate outrage.
He forgot
his weakness, he forgot his nakedness, and hurried out against.
his oppressors, armed to their teeth or intrenched in fortresses.
Their chiefs and subalterns, friends and enemies, all united to


## p. 14808 (#382) ##########################################

14808
AUGUSTIN THIERRY
crush him. He was pierced with the strokes of lances, hacked
with the cuts of swords, bruised under the feet of horses: no
more breath was left in him but what he required not to die on
the spot, for he was wanted.
Jacques-who since this war bore the surname of Jacques
bonhomme-recovered of his wounds, and paid as heretofore. He
paid the subsidies, the assistances, the gabelle, the rights of sale,
of tolls and customs, the poll tax, the twentieths, etc. , etc. At
this exorbitant price, the king protected him a little against the
rapacity of the other nobles: this more fixed and peaceful con-
dition pleased him; he became attached to the new yoke which
procured it for him; he even persuaded himself that this yoke
was natural and necessary to him, that he required fatigue in
order not to burst with health, and that his purse resembled trees,
which grow when they are pruned. Care was taken not to burst
out laughing at these sallies of his imagination; they were en-
couraged, on the contrary: and it was when he gave full vent to
them that the names of loyal and well-advised man, " recte
legalis et sapiens," were given him.
«
If it is for my good that I pay, said Jacques to himself one
day, it follows therefore that the first duty of those I pay is to
act for my good; and that they are, properly speaking, only the
stewards of my affairs. If they are the stewards of my affairs,
it follows that I have a right to regulate their accounts and
give them my advice. This succession of inductions appeared
to him very luminous: he never doubted but that it did the
greatest credit to his sagacity; he made it the subject of a large
book, which he printed in beautiful type. This book was seized,
mutilated, and burnt; instead of the praises which the author
expected, the galleys were proposed to him. His presses were
seized; a lazzaretto was instituted, wherein his thoughts were to
perform quarantine before passing into print. Jacques printed
no more, but he did not think less. The struggle of his thought
against authority was long secret and silent; his mind long medi-
tated this great idea, that by a natural right he was free and
master at home, before he made any tentative to realize it. At
last one day, when a great want of money compelled the powers
whom Jacques supplied, to call him to council to obtain from
him a subsidy which it did not dare to exact, Jacques arose,
assumed a proud tone, and clearly stated his absolute and impre-
scriptible right of property and liberty.


## p. 14809 (#383) ##########################################

AUGUSTIN THIERRY
14809
Authority capitulated, then retracted; war ensued, and Jacques
was the conqueror, because several friends of his former mas-
ters deserted to embrace his cause. He was cruel in his victory,
because long misery had soured him. He knew not how to con-
duct himself when free, because he still had the habits of slavery.
Those whom he took for stewards enslaved him anew whilst pro-
claiming his absolute sovereignty. "Alas! " said Jacques, "I have
suffered two conquests; I have been called serf, villain, subject:
but I never was insulted by being told that it was in virtue of
my rights that I was a slave and despoiled. " One of his officers,
a great warrior, heard him murmur and complain. "I see what
you want," said he, "and I will take upon myself to give it to
you. I will mix up the traditions of the two conquests that you
so justly regret: I will restore to you the Frankish warriors, in
the persons of my soldiers; they shall be, like them, barons and
nobles. I will reproduce the great Cæsar, your first master; I
will call myself imperator: you shall have a place in my legions;
I promise you promotion in them. " Jacques opened his lips to
reply, when suddenly the trumpets sounded, the drums beat, the
eagles were unfurled. Jacques had formerly fought under the
eagles; his early youth had been passed in following them mechan-
ically: as soon as he saw them again, he thought no longer-he
marched.
It is time that the jest should end. We beg pardon for hav-
ing introduced it into so grave a subject: we beg pardon for
having made use of an insulting name formerly applied to our
fathers, in order to retrace more rapidly the sad succession of
our misfortunes and our faults. It seems as if on the day on
which, for the first time, servitude, the daughter of armed invas-
ion, put its foot on the country which now bears the name of
France, it was written above that servitude should never leave
it; that, banished under one form, it was to reappear under
another, and changing its aspect without changing its nature,
stand upright at its former post in spite of time and mankind.
After the domination of the conquering Romans, came the dom-
ination of the conquering Franks; then absolute monarchy, then
the absolute authority of republican laws, then the absolute power
of the French empire, then five years of exceptional laws under
the constitutional charter. Twenty centuries have elapsed since
the footsteps of conquest were imprinted on our soil; its traces
have not disappeared: generations have trampled on without


## p. 14810 (#384) ##########################################

14810
AUGUSTIN THIERRY
destroying them; the blood of men has washed without effacing
them. Was it then for such a destiny that nature formed that
beautiful country which so much verdure adorns, such harvests
enrich, and which is under the influence of so mild a climate?
THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS
From the 'History of the Conquest of England by the Normans'
ON
THE ground which afterwards bore, and still bears, the
name of "Battle," the Anglo-Saxon lines occupied a long
chain of hills, fortified with a rampart of stakes and osier
hurdles. In the night of the 13th of October, William announced
to the Normans that the next day would be the day of battle.
The priests and monks, who had followed the invading army
in great numbers, being attracted like the soldiers by the hope of
booty, assembled together to offer up prayers and sing litanies,
while the fighting men were preparing their arms. The soldiery
employed the time which remained to them after this first care
in confessing their sins and receiving the sacrament. In the
other army the night was passed in quite a different manner:
the Saxons diverted themselves with great noise, and sung their
old national songs round their watch-fires, while they emptied the
horns of beer and of wine.
In the morning the bishop of Bayeux, who was a son of Will-
iam's mother, celebrated mass in the Norman camp, and gave a
blessing to the soldiers; he was armed with a hauberk under
his pontifical habit: he then mounted a large white horse, took
a baton of command in his hand, and drew up the cavalry into
line. The army was divided into three columns of attack: in the
first were the soldiers from the county of Boulogne and from
Ponthieu, with most of the adventurers who had engaged person-
ally for pay; the second comprised the auxiliaries from Brittany,
Maine, and Poitou; William himself commanded the third, com-
posed of the Norman chivalry. At the head and on the flanks
of each division marched several ranks of light-armed infantry,
clad in quilted cassocks, and carrying long-bows, or arbalets of
steel. The duke mounted a Spanish charger which a rich Nor-
man had brought him when he returned from a pilgrimage to
St. James of Compostella in Gallicia. From his neck were sus-
pended the most venerated of the relics on which Harold had


## p. 14811 (#385) ##########################################

AUGUSTIN THIERRY
14811
sworn; and the standard consecrated by the Pope was carried
at his side by a young man named Toustain-le-Blanc. At the
moment when the troops were about to advance, the duke, rais-
ing his voice, thus addressed them:-
"Remember to fight well, and put all to death; for if we
conquer we shall all be rich. What I gain, you will gain; if I
conquer, you will conquer; if I take this land, you shall have it.
Know however that I am not come here only to obtain my right,
but also to avenge our whole nation for the felonies, perjuries,
and treacheries of these English. They put to death the Danes,
men and women, on St. Brice's night. They decimated the com-
panions of my kinsman Alfred, and took his life. Come on, then;
and let us, with God's help, chastise them for all these misdeeds. "
-
The army was soon within sight of the Saxon camp, to the
northwest of Hastings. The priests and monks then detached
themselves from it, and ascended a neighboring height, to pray
and to witness the conflict. A Norman named Taillefer spurred
his horse forward in front, and began the song-famous through-
out Gaul- of the exploits of Charlemagne and Roland. As he
sung, he played with his sword; throwing it up with force in the
air, and receiving it again in his right hand. The Normans
joined in chorus, or cried, "God be our help! God be our help! "
As soon as they came within bowshot, the archers let fly their
arrows and the crossbow-men their bolts; but most of the shots
were deadened by the high parapet of the Saxon redoubts. The
infantry, armed with spears, and the cavalry, then advanced to
the entrances of the redoubts, and endeavored to force them.
The Anglo-Saxons, all on foot around their standard planted in
the ground, and forming behind their redoubts one compact and
solid mass, received the assailants with heavy blows of their
battle-axes, which, with a back-stroke, broke their spears and
clove their coats of mail. The Normans, unable either to pene-
trate the redoubts or to tear up the palisades, and fatigued with
their unsuccessful attack, fell back upon the division commanded
by William. The duke then commanded all his archers again to
advance, and ordered them not to shoot point-blank, but to dis-
charge their arrows upwards, so that they might fall beyond
the rampart of the enemy's camp. Many of the English were
wounded, chiefly in the face, in consequence of this manoeuvre;
Harold himself lost an eye by an arrow, but he nevertheless con-
tinued to command and to fight. The close attack of the foot


## p. 14812 (#386) ##########################################


14812
AUGUSTIN THIERRY
and horse recommenced, to the cry of "Notre Dame! Dieu aide!
Dieu aide! " But the Normans were repulsed at one entrance of
the Saxon camp, as far as a great ravine covered with grass and
brambles, in which, their horses stumbling, they fell pell-mell, and
numbers of them perished. There was now a momentary panic
in the army of the invaders: it was rumored that the duke was
killed; and at this news they began to fly. William threw him-
self before the fugitives, and barred their passage, threatening
them, and striking them with a lance; then uncovering his head,
"Here I am," he exclaimed; "look at me: I live, and with
God's help I will conquer! "
The horsemen returned to the redoubts; but as before, they
could neither force the entrance nor make a breach. The duke
then bethought himself of a stratagem to draw the English out
of their position, and make them quit their ranks. He ordered
a thousand horse to advance and immediately take to flight. At
the sight of this feigned rout, the Saxons were thrown off their
guard; and all set off in pursuit, with their axes suspended from
their necks. At a certain distance, a body of troops posted there
for the purpose joined the fugitives, who then turned round;
and the English, surprised in the midst of their disorder, were
assailed on all sides with spears and swords, which they could
not ward off, both hands being occupied in wielding their heavy
axes. When they had lost their ranks the gates of the redoubt
were forced, and horse and foot entered together; but the combat
was still warmly maintained, pell-mell and hand to hand. William
had his horse killed under him. King Harold and his two broth-
ers fell dead at the foot of their standard, which was plucked
from the ground, and the banner sent from Rome planted in its
stead. The remains of the English army, without a chief and
without a standard, prolonged the struggle until the close of day,
so that the combatants on each side could recognize one another
only by their language.
Having, says an old historian, rendered all which they owed
to their country, the remnant of Harold's companions dispersed;
and many died on the roads, in consequence of their wounds
and the day's fatigue. The Norman horse pursued them without
relaxation, and gave quarter to no one. They passed the night
on the field of battle; and on the morrow, at dawn of day, Duke
William drew up his troops, and had all the men who had fol-
lowed him across the sea called over from the roll which had
—


## p. 14813 (#387) ##########################################

AUGUSTIN THIERRY
14813
been prepared before his departure from the port of St. Valery.
Of these, a vast number, dead and dying, lay beside the van-
quished on the field. The fortunate survivors had, as the first
profits of their victory, the spoils of the dead. In turning over
the bodies there were found thirteen wearing under their armor
the monastic habit: these were the abbot of Hida and his twelve
companions; the name of their monastery was the first inscribed
in the Black Book of the conquerors.
The mothers and the wives of those who had repaired to
the field of battle from the neighboring country to die with the
King, came to the field to seek for and to bury the bodies of
their sons and husbands. The body of King Harold remained.
for some time on the battle-field, and no one dared ask for it.
At length Godwin's widow, named Githa, overcoming her anguish,
sent a message to Duke William demanding his permission to
perform the last rites in honor of her son. She offered, say the
Norman historians, to give him the weight of her son's body in
gold. But the duke refused harshly, saying that the man who
had belied his faith and his religion should have no sepulture but
the sands of the shore. If we may believe an old tradition on
this score, however, he eventually became milder in favor of the
monks of Waltham, an abbey founded and enriched in his life-
time by Harold. Two Saxon monks, Osgod and Ailrik, deputed
by the abbot of Waltham, made request and obtained leave to
transport to their church the sad remains of its benefactor. They
then proceeded to the heap of slain that had been spoiled of
armor and of vestments, and examined them carefully one after
another; but he whom they sought for had been so much dis-
figured by wounds that they could not recognize it. Sorrowing,
and despairing of succeeding in their search by themselves, they
applied to a woman whom Harold, before he was king, had
kept as his mistress; and entreated her to assist them.
She was
called Edith, and poetically surnamed the Swan-necked. She con-
sented to follow the two monks, and succeeded better than they
had done in discovering the corpse of him whom she had loved.
These events are all related by the chroniclers of the Anglo-
Saxon race in a tone of dejection which it is difficult to trans-
fuse. They call the day of the battle a day of bitterness, a day
of death, a day stained with the blood of the brave. "England,
what shall I say of thee? " exclaims the historian of the church
of Ely: "what shall I say of thee to our descendants? — That


## p. 14814 (#388) ##########################################


14814
AUGUSTIN THIERRY
thou hast lost thy national king, and hast fallen under the dom-
ination of foreigners; that thy sons have perished miserably;
that thy councilors and thy chieftains are vanquished, slain, or dis-
inherited! " Long after the day of this fatal conflict, patriotic
superstition believed that the fresh traces of blood were still to
be seen on the ground where the battle was. These traces were
said to be visible on the heights to the northwest of Hastings
whenever a little rain moistened the soil. The conqueror, imme-
diately upon gaining the victory, made a vow to erect on this
ground a convent dedicated to the Holy Trinity, and to St. Mar-
tin the patron of the soldiers of Gaul. Soon afterwards, when
his good fortune permitted him to fulfill this vow, the great altar
of the monastery was placed on the spot where the Saxon stand-
ard of King Harold had been planted and torn down. The cir-
cuit of the exterior walls was traced so as to inclose all the hill
which the bravest of the English had covered with their bodies.
All the circumjacent land, a league wide, on which the different
scenes of the battle had been acted, became the property of this
abbey, which in the Norman language was called "l'Abbaye de
la Bataille," or Battle Abbey. Monks from the great convent of
Marmoutiers, near Tours, came to establish here their domicile;
and they prayed for the repose of the souls of all the combatants
who perished on that fatal day.
It is said that when the first stones of the edifice were laid,
the architects discovered that there would certainly be a want of
water. Being disconcerted, they carried this disagreeable news
to William. "Work, work away," replied the Conqueror jocu-
larly: "if God grant me life, there shall be more wine for the
monks of Battle to drink than there now is clear water in the
best convent in Christendom. "
THE STORY OF FORTUNATUS
From the Historical Essays and Narratives of the Merovingian Era'
THE
HE first event which signalized the opening of the synod [of
Soissons, 380 4. was a literary one: it was the arrival
A. D. ]
of a long piece of poetry composed by Venantius Fortu-
natus, and addressed to King Hilperik and to all the bishops
assembled at Braine. The singular career which this Italian, the
last poet of the aristocratic Gallo-Roman society, had created for


## p. 14815 (#389) ##########################################

AUGUSTIN THIERRY
14815
himself by his talents and the elegance of his manners, demands
here an episodical digression.
Born in the environs of Treviso, and educated at Ravenna,
Fortunatus came to Gaul to visit the tomb of St. Martin, in
fulfillment of a pious vow; but this journey being in all ways
delightful to, him, he made no haste to terminate it. After hav-
ing accomplished his pilgrimage to Tours, he continued to travel
from town to town, and was sought and welcomed by all the rich
and noble men who still piqued themselves on their refinement
and elegance. He traveled all over Gaul, from Mayence to Bor-
deaux, and from Toulouse to Cologne; visiting on his road the
bishops, counts, and dukes, either of Gallic or Frankish origin,
and finding in most of them obliging hosts, and often truly kind
friends.
Those whom he left, after a stay of a longer or shorter period
in their episcopal palaces, their country-houses, or their strong
fortresses, kept up a regular correspondence with him from that
period; and he replied to their letters by pieces of elegiac poetry,
in which he retraced the remembrances and incidents of his jour-
ney. To every one he spoke of the natural beauties and monu-
ments of their country: he described the picturesque spots, the
rivers and the forests, the culture of the land, the riches of the
churches, and the delights of the country-houses, These pictures,
sometimes tolerably accurate and sometimes vaguely rhetorical,
were mixed up with compliments and flattery. The poet and wit
praised the kindness, the hospitality, of the Frankish nobles, not
omitting the facility with which they conversed in Latin; and the
political talents, the ingenuity, and the knowledge of law and
business, which characterized the Gallo-Roman nobles. To praise
for the piety of the bishops, and their zeal in building and con-
secrating new churches, he added approbation of their adminis-
trative works for the prosperity, ornament, or safety of towns.
He praised one for having restored ancient edifices, a prætorium,
a portico, and baths; a second for having turned the course of a
river, and dug canals for irrigation; a third for having erected
a citadel fortified with towers and machines of war. All this, it
must be owned, was marked with signs of extreme literary de-
generacy; being written in a style at once pedantic and careless,
full of incorrect and distorted expressions and of puerile puns:
but setting these aside, it is pleasant to witness the appearance
of Venantius Fortunatus rekindling a last spark of intellectual
life in Gaul, and to see this stranger becoming a common bond


## p. 14816 (#390) ##########################################

14816
AUGUSTIN THIERRY
of union between those who, in the midst of a society declining
into barbarism, here and there retained the love of literature and
mental enjoyments. Of all his friendships, the deepest and most
permanent was the one which he formed with a woman,— Rade-
gonda, one of the wives of King Chlother the First, then living
retired at Poitiers in a convent which she had herself founded,
and where she had taken the veil as a simple nun.
The monastery of Poitiers had already [A. D. 567] attracted
the attention of the whole Christian world for more than fifteen
years, when Venantius Fortunatus, in his pilgrimage of devotion
and pleasure through Gaul, visited it as one of the most remark-
able sights which his travels afforded him. He was received
there with flattering distinction: the warm reception which the
Queen was accustomed to give men of talent and refinement
was lavished on him as the most illustrious and amiable of their
guests. He saw himself loaded by her and the abbess with care,
attentions, and praises. This admiration, reproduced each day
under various forms, and distilled, so to speak, into the ear of
the poet by two women, the one older than himself, the other
younger, detained him by ever new charms longer than he had
expected. Weeks, months passed, and all delays were exhausted;
and when the traveler spoke of setting forth again, Radegonda
said to him: "Why should you go? Why not remain with us? "
This wish, uttered by friendship, was to Fortunatus a decree of
fate: he no longer thought of crossing the Alps, but settled at
Poitiers, took orders there, and became a priest of the metropoli-
tan church.
-
-
·
This change of profession facilitated his intercourse with his
two friends, whom he called his mother and sister, and it became
still more assiduous and intimate than before. Apart from the
ordinary necessity of women being governed by a man, there
were imperious reasons in the case of the foundress and the
abbess of the convent of Poitiers, which demanded a union of
attention and firmness only to be met with in a man.
The mon-
astery had considerable property, which it was not only necessary
to manage, but also to guard with daily vigilance against impo-
sitions and robberies. This security was only to be obtained
by means of royal diplomas, threats of excommunication from
the bishops, and perpetual negotiations with dukes, counts, and
judges, who were little anxious to act from duty, but who did a
great deal from interest or private friendship. A task like this
demanded both address and activity, frequent journeys, visits to


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AUGUSTIN THIERRY
14817
the courts of kings, the talent of pleasing powerful men, and of
treating with all sorts of people. Fortunatus employed in it all
his knowledge of the world and the resources of his mind, with
as much success as zeal; he became the counselor, confidential
agent, ambassador, steward, and secretary of the Queen and the
abbess. His influence, absolute in external matters, was hardly
less so on the internal order and arrangements of the house: he
was the arbitrator of little quarrels, the moderator of rival pas-
sions and feminine spite. All mitigations of the rules, all favors,
holidays, and extra repasts, were obtained through his inter-
vention and at his request. He even had, to a certain extent,
the direction of consciences; and his advice, sometimes given in
verse, always inclined to the least rigid side. Moreover, Fortuna-
tus combined great suppleness of mind with considerable free-
dom of manners. A Christian chiefly through his imagination,
as has been frequently said of the Italians, his orthodoxy was
irreproachable; but in his practice of life he was effeminate and
sensual. He abandoned himself without restraint to the pleas-
ures of the table; and not only was he always found a jovial
guest, a great drinker, and an inspired singer at the banquets.
given by his rich patrons, both Romans and barbarians, but in
imitation of the customs of imperial Rome he sometimes dined
alone on several courses. Clever as all women are at retaining
and attaching to themselves a friend by the weak points of his
character, Radegonda and Agnes rivaled each other in encour-
aging this gross propensity, in the same way that they flattered
in him a less ignoble defect,- that of literary vanity. They sent
daily to Fortunatus's dwelling the best part of the meals of the
house; and not content with this, they had dishes which were
forbidden them by the rules, dressed for him with all possible
care. These were meats of all kinds, seasoned in a thousand
different ways, and vegetables dressed with gravy or honey, and
served up in dishes of silver, jasper, and crystal. At other
times he was invited to take his repast at the convent; and then
not only was the entertainment of the most delicate kind, but
the ornaments of the dining-room were of a refined coquetry.
Wreaths of odoriferous flowers adorned the walls, and rose-leaves
covered the table instead of a table-cloth. Wine flowed into
beautiful goblets for the guests to whom it was interdicted by
no vow; there was almost a reflex of the suppers of Horace
or Tibullus in the elegance of this repast, offered to a Christian
poet by two recluses dead to the world. The three actors of
XXV-927


## p. 14818 (#392) ##########################################

14818
AUGUSTIN THIERRY
j
this singular drama addressed each other by tender names, the
meaning of which a heathen would certainly have misunderstood.
The names of mother and sister from the lips of the Italian were
accompanied by such epithets as these: "my life," "my light,”
"delight of my soul"; and all this was only, in truth, an exalted
but chaste friendship, a sort of intellectual love. With regard to
the abbess, who was little more than thirty when this liaison
began, this intimacy appeared suspicious, and became the subject
of scandalous insinuations. The reputation of the priest Fortu-
natus suffered from them, and he was obliged to defend himself,
and protest that he only felt for Agnes, like a brother, a
purely spiritual love, a celestial affection. He did it with dig-
nity, in some verses in which he takes Christ and the Virgin as
witnesses of the innocence of his heart.
This man of frivolous and gay disposition, whose maxim was
to enjoy the present, and always to look on the bright side of
life, was, in his conversations with the daughter of the King of
Thuringia, the confidant of deep suffering, of melancholy remi-
niscences, of which he felt himself incapable. Radegonda had
attained the age when the hair begins to whiten, without hav-
ing forgotten any of the impressions of her early childhood; and
at fifty, the memory of the days spent in her own country
amidst her friends came to her as fresh and as painful as at the
moment of her capture. She often said, "I am a poor capt-
ive woman:" she delighted in retracing, even in their smallest
details, the scenes of desolation, of murder, and of violence, of
which she had been a witness, and partly a victim. After so
many years of exile, and notwithstanding a total change of tastes.
and habits, the remembrance of the parental fireside, and the old
family affections, remained to her objects of worship and of love:
it was the remnant, the only one she had retained, of the Ger-
manic manners and character. The images of her dead and ban-
ished parents never ceased to be present to her, in spite of her
new attachments, and the peace of mind she had acquired. There
was even something vehement, an almost savage ardor, in her
yearnings towards the last remnants of her race, towards the son
of her uncle who had taken refuge at Constantinople, towards
cousins born in exile and whom she only knew by name. This
woman, who, in a strange land, had never been able to love
anything which was both Christian and civilized, colored her
patriotic regrets with a rude poetry, a reminiscence of national
songs which she had formerly heard in the wooden palace of her


## p. 14819 (#393) ##########################################

AUGUSTIN THIERRY
14819
ancestors, or on the heaths of her country. The traces of them
are still visibly, though certainly in a softened degree, to be met.
with here and there in some pieces of poetry, in which the Ital-
ian poet, speaking in the name of the queen of the barbarians,
endeavors to render her melancholy confidences in the way that
he received them from her:
――――――――――――――
"I have seen women carried into slavery, with bound hands and
flowing hair; one walked barefooted in the blood of her husband, the
other passed over the corpse of her brother. Each one has had cause
for tears; and I, I have wept for all. I have wept for my relations
who have died, and I must weep for those who remain alive. When
my tears cease to flow, when my sighs are hushed, my sorrow is not
silent. When the wind murmurs, I listen if it brings me any news;
but no shadow of my relations presents itself to me. A whole world
divides me from what I love most. Where are they? I ask it of the
wind that whistles; I ask it of the clouds that float by; I wish some
bird would come and tell me of them. Ah! if I were not withheld
by the sacred walls of this convent, they would see me arrive at
the moment when they least expected me. I would set out in bad
weather; I would sail joyfully through the tempest. The sailors
might tremble, but I should have no fear. If the vessel split, I would
fasten myself to a plank, and continue my voyage; and if I could
seize no fragment, I would swim to them. "
Such was the life which Fortunatus had led since the year
567: a life consisting of religion without moroseness, of affection
without anxiety, of grave cares, of leisure filled with agreeable
trifling. This last and curious example of an attempt at uniting
Christian perfection with the social refinements of ancient civil-
ization would have passed away without leaving any trace if the
friend of Agnes and Radegonda had not himself, in his poetical
works, noted even the smallest phases of the destiny which, with
so perfect an instinct of happiness, he had chosen for himself.
In them is found inscribed, almost day by day, the history of this
society of three persons connected by a strong sympathy,
love of everything elegant, and the want of lively and intellectual
conversation. There are verses on all the little events of which
this sweet and monotonous mode of existence was made up: on
the pain of separation, the dullness of absence, and the delights.
of return; on little presents made and received,-on flowers,
fruits, and all sorts of dainties, on willow-baskets which the poet
amused himself in plaiting with his own hands as gifts for his
two friends. There are some on the suppers of the three in
the


## p. 14820 (#394) ##########################################

14820
AUGUSTIN THIERRY
the convent, animated by "delicious chats"; and for the solitary
repasts in which Fortunatus, whilst eating his utmost, regretted
having only one pleasure at a time, and not having his eyes and
ears charmed as well. Finally, there were some on the sad and
happy days which every year brought round: such as the anni-
versary of Agnes's birth; and the first day of Lent, when Rade-
gonda, in obedience to a vow, shut herself up in a cell to pass
there the time of that long fast. "Where is my light hidden?
Wherefore does she conceal herself from my eyes? " the poet
then exclaimed, in a passionate accent which might have been
thought profane; and when Easter-day and the end of this long
absence arrived, he then, mingling the smiles of a madrigal with
the grave reflections of the Christian faith, said to Radegonda:
"Thou hast robbed me of my happiness: now it returns to me
with thee; thou makest me doubly celebrate this solemn festival. ”
To the delights of a tranquillity unique in that century, the
Italian emigrant added that of a glory which was no less so; and
he was even able to deceive himself as to the duration of the
expiring literature of which he was the last and most frivolous
representative. The barbarians admired him, and did their best
to delight in his witticisms; his slightest works, such as notes
written whilst the bearer was waiting, simple distichs impro-
vised at table, spread from hand to hand, were read, copied, and
learned by heart; his religious poems and verses addressed to the
kings were objects of public expectation. On his arrival in Gaul,
he had celebrated the marriage of Sighebert and Brunehilda in
the heathen style, and the conversion of the Arian Brunehilda to
the Catholic faith in the Christian style. The warlike character
of Sighebert, the conqueror of nations beyond the Rhine, was
the first theme of his poetical flatteries; later, when settled at
Poitiers in the kingdom of Haribert, he wrote the praise of a
pacific king in honor of that unwarlike prince. Haribert died
in the year 567, and the precarious situation of the town of Poi-
tiers, alternately taken by the kings of Neustria and Austrasia,
obliged the poet to observe a prudent silence for a long while;
and his tongue became unloosed only on the day on which the
city he inhabited appeared to him to have definitely fallen into
the power of King Hilperik. He then composed for that king.
his first panegyric and elegiac verses: this was the piece men-
tioned above, and the sending of which to Braine gave rise to
this long episode.


## p. 14821 (#395) ##########################################

14821
ADOLPHE THIERS
(1797-1877)
BY ADOLPHE COHN
HIERS (Louis Adolphe, usually mentioned simply as Adolphe
Thiers), born April 15th, 1797, died September 3d, 1877,-
belongs to a class of writers which was comparatively large
in France during the first half of the nineteenth century; who owed
to literary success an entrance to political life, and distinguished
themselves as public men no less than as men of letters. Of these
no one reached such eminence as the little
Marseilles laborer's son, who at the age of
seventy-four was elected the first President
of the French Republic.
The Thiers family, though one of the
humblest of the large city of Marseilles,
managed to give to its brightest child as
good an education as was at the disposal
of French children at the beginning of the
century. Adolphe Thiers was given a gov-
ernment scholarship in the lycée or college
of his native city; and after winning dis-
tinction in his classes, studied law in the
neighboring city of Aix, which possessed
one of the government law schools. There
he met a young student one year his senior,- François Mignet;
with whom, owing partly to the many tastes they had in common,
he formed a friendship which was dissolved only by death more than
sixty years later. Neither of these two law students cared much for
the law, both of them longed for a literary career; and both of them
therefore soon moved to Paris, the centre of the intellectual life of
the nation. Thiers made his mark with incredible rapidity, and before
long was a regular member of the staff of one of the most important
liberal papers, the Constitutionnel; he even became a part owner
of the paper, through the liberality of the German publisher, Cotta.
There he wrote on all sorts of subjects, his best articles being on the
annual exhibition of paintings known as the Salon.
A proposal that came from a sort of literary hack, Félix Bodin,
made him determine to write a history of the French Revolution;
ADOLPHE THIERS
—



## p. 14822 (#396) ##########################################

14822
ADOLPHE THIERS
the first two volumes of which, bearing Bodin's name by the side
of Thiers's, appeared in 1823. This was the beginning of the first
exhaustive history of the French Revolution written by one who had
not been an eye-witness of the event; and it presented therefore
greater guarantees of impartiality than anything before published on
the same subject. The young writer moreover possessed to a very
high degree the gift of telling an interesting story, and of presenting
in a clear and simple way that which seemed at first obscure and
complicated. He could also work fast, so as not to allow the reader
to lose his interest in the narrative. The last of the ten volumes of
Thiers's History of the French Revolution' appeared in 1827, hardly
four years after the first volumes had been issued.
The success of the work at once placed its author in the front
rank of historical writers, at a time when France was extraordinarily
rich in literary talent, and when the desire to know as accurately as
possible the events of the revolutionary period was general in Europe.
Thiers, who was destined to be a great parliamentarian, had also a
special gift for financial explanation and military narrative; so that
he possessed almost every one of the requisites for composing the
history of a crisis which was financial in its causes and military in
its development, no less than social and political in its nature.
It is to be noted as a curious coincidence that while Thiers was
publishing this exhaustive work on the Revolution, his friend Mignet
was writing another and shorter narrative of the same period. These
two works were the first that manifested a reaction against the
anti-revolutionary sentiments which had been dominant in France, at
least in appearance, since the restoration of the Bourbons. Liberal
opinion was gathering strength and boldness. The accession to the
throne of Charles X. , the last of the surviving brothers of Louis XVI. ,
made every one feel that a great effort would be made by the court
to place the ultra-royalist and Catholic party in full control of affairs.
Thiers's History of the French Revolution' called attention to the
means by which in the past the people had triumphed over an anti-
patriotic cabal, and powerfully served the Liberal party in its prepa-
rations for what may be termed aggressive resistance.
On January 1st, 1830, when the fight was at its hottest, Thiers
for the first time assumed a prominent rank among the combatants.
In connection with his friends François Mignet and Armand Car-
rel he established a daily political paper, Le National, which was at
once recognized as the boldest of the opposition newspapers. The
leader in which the policy of the paper was explained stated that,
determined to possess political liberty, France was willing to find a
model for her institutions across the Channel; but that should she
fail in the attempt, she would not hesitate to look for another model
across the Atlantic. The article had been written by Adolphe Thiers,


## p. 14823 (#397) ##########################################

ADOLPHE THIERS
14823
who was destined to be before long a minister of a constitutional
sovereign, and more than forty years later the President of a demo-
cratic republic.
In the months that followed, many of the most striking political
articles of the National were printed over the initials A. T. ; and when
on July 25th, 1830, Charles X. determined, by his famous Ordonnances,
to challenge the Chamber of Deputies and the Liberal press to a
mortal combat, it was Adolphe Thiers that wrote the strong-worded
protest by which the Parisian journalists proclaimed their refusal to
obey the illegal dictates of the infatuated monarch.
The success of the revolution of 1830 made Thiers one of the
most influential men in the kingdom. His literary productions at that
time comprised, in addition to his 'History of the French Revolution'
and to his articles in the Constitutionnel and in the National, a volume
on Law and his System of Finance' (1826), reprinted in 1858 under
a new title, 'History of Law'; and an 'Essay on Vauvenargues,' quite
an early production, written by him while still in Aix, and rewarded
by a prize of the Aix Academy of Letters and Sciences under rather
curious circumstances. That Academy had offered a Eulogy of Vauve-
nargues as a subject for a competitive essay. Young Thiers, in his
eagerness to secure the prize, sent in two essays composed on two
different plans,- so that the judges could not, until the name of the
author was disclosed, imagine that they came from only one source;
and he secured both first and second prize, over all his competitors.
For nearly fifteen years after the accession of Louis Philippe
there was an interruption in his labors as a man of letters. He
then played an important political part, being several times a cabi-
net minister and twice prime minister; the last time from March to
November 1840, when he strongly supported against all Europe the
celebrated ruler of Egypt, Mehemet-Ali. His rival at that time was
another celebrated man of letters,- the historian Guizot, who suc-
ceeded him as prime minister. Both were considered the most bril-
liant political orators France possessed at that time, with Berryer and
Lamartine. In 1834 Thiers was elected a member of the French
Academy. His speech on being received in that illustrious body is
one of his most successful efforts.
The opinions he represented in Parliament during the reign of
Louis Philippe were those of a moderate Liberal, and especially of one
who placed the authority of Parliament far above the King. That
much he set forth in the famous formula: "The King reigns and
does not govern. " Soon after his retirement from power, in 1840,
he realized that both King and Parliament were, and were likely to
remain for a long time, hostile to his ideas, and that his chances of
regaining power were very slight indeed. He therefore again turned


## p. 14824 (#398) ##########################################

14824
ADOLPHE THIERS
to literature, to historical writing. In his History of the French
Revolution he had conducted his narrative to the Eighteenth Bru-
maire of the eighth year of the French Republic (November 9th, 1799),
-the date of the military revolution by which General Napoleon Bona-
parte was made supreme in the State. He determined now to write
the history of Napoleon himself from his accession to power to his
death.
The times were ripe for such an undertaking: the admiration
for Napoleon was one of the strongest feelings of the generation to
which Thiers belonged. When last prime minister, he had prevailed
upon England to give up the remains of the great captain, and to
allow them to be transported to France. Paris had known in the suc-
ceeding quarter of a century no such enthusiasm as was manifested
on December 15th, 1840; when, in the midst of the most impressive
military pomp, Napoleon's coffin was laid at rest in the crypt of the
Hôtel des Invalides. Thiers devoted no less than twenty years of
his life to the composition of his History of the Consulate and the
Empire'; the first five volumes of which were published in 1845, and
the twentieth and last in 1862.
During that period France passed through strange vicissitudes.
The throne of Louis Philippe was in February 1848 swept away by
a revolution, which the King at the last moment vainly tried to stave
off by calling Thiers to power. A republic was established, which
soon intrusted its destiny to a nephew of Napoleon. Thiers, after
supporting the candidacy of Louis Napoleon to the presidency of
the republic, soon discovered his mistake, and became a determined
opponent of the "Prince-President"; and so, when Louis Napoleon
broke his oath of office and destroyed the republic, Thiers was not
surprised at being informed that he was banished from France. He
was, however, soon allowed to return and to peacefully complete his
great historical undertaking. In the mean time he had written a short
but important work on 'Property,' destined to check the growth of
socialistic feeling.
ness
The 'History of Napoleon' is Thiers's greatest claim to distinction
as a literary man. It possesses in a high degree the merits of clear-
ss and order; it never fails to be interesting. It may be lacking
in moral power: Napoleon is too uniformly praised and admired, his
opponents are too uniformly found fault with. But the author's
enthusiasm for his hero is felt to be genuine; and Thiers, moreover,
does not seem to speak simply in his own name, but in the name of
the millions for whom Napoleon was the image of everything that
was great and striking. Whether this fulsome approval of Napoleon's
doings very well agreed with the liberal doctrines he defended in
the political arena, does not seem to have troubled Thiers very much;
and as soon as he had completed his history he re-entered public


## p. 14825 (#399) ##########################################

ADOLPHE THIERS
14825
life, and almost suddenly passed from praising the uncle to bitterly
assailing the nephew.
In 1863 Thiers offered himself as an opposition candidate to the
voters of one of the Paris constituencies; and after being elected a
member of the Chamber of Deputies, opened against the imperial
government a campaign of opposition, which became every day more
intense until his predictions were verified, and the imperial throne
lay shattered on the battle-field.
Thiers's political speeches between 1863 and 1870 developed with
a marvelous variety of arguments the theme that the government
of Napoleon III. betrayed the French people, both in denying them
political liberty and in allowing French influence to become every
day smaller in foreign affairs. Especially did he criticize the expedi-
tion by which the French government tried to establish an empire in
Mexico, and the policy of Napoleon III. in allowing Prussia to grow
at the expense of Austria. His denunciation of that policy in 1866
was nothing short of prophetic.
He was of course re-elected to the Chamber in 1869; and a year
later, the policy which he opposed culminated in the foolhardy decla-
ration of war against Prussia and the disasters that followed. This
declaration of war Thiers did his utmost to prevent; he addressed
the house in an impassioned speech, which the supporters of the
government constantly cut with insulting interruptions, without how-
ever succeeding in stifling his voice.
Thiers was now seventy-three years old, and new paths of use-
fulness opened before him in which he was to win more renown
than he had in all his past career. On September 4th, 1870, after
the reception of the news of the surrender of the imperial army at
Sedan, the imperial government collapsed at Paris; a republic was
proclaimed; and a new government was formed, consisting of the
representatives of the various Parisian constituencies in the Cham-
ber of Deputies. Thiers however declined to be a member of that
government; but at its request undertook to visit all the capitals of
Europe, and try to get some help for invaded France.
He failed in his mission,-in which, indeed, failure was simply
unavoidable; and when a few months later France had to sue for
peace, and to elect a National Assembly which alone had the power
of accepting or rejecting the terms of the victorious Germans, the
country only remembered Thiers's heroic opposition to the declara-
tion of the war, and manifested its confidence in him by an election
to the Assembly from no less than twenty-six constituencies.
It was
a foregone conclusion that he would be called upon by
the Assembly to form a new government. On February 17th, at
Bordeaux, where the Assembly met because it was one of the spots.


## p. 14826 (#400) ##########################################

14826
ADOLPHE THIERS
still unoccupied by the German armies,—he was elected chief of the
executive power of the French Republic, and President of the Coun-
cil of Ministers; a title which was a few months later changed to Pres-
ident of the French Republic. His first duty was the saddest that
could befall such a patriotic Frenchman as he was: he had to meet
Prince Bismarck, and hear from him the terms upon which Germany
was willing to grant peace to France. This duty he fulfilled with
dignity, courage, and skill; and he was fortunate enough to save
for France the Alsatian fortress of Belfort, without the possession of
which the French frontier would have remained entirely open to any
later German invasion.
None the less hard was it for him to convince the Assembly
that, hard as they were, the terms imposed by Germany had to be
accepted, so that patriotic citizens might afterwards address them-
selves to the task of reorganizing the impoverished country.
The task he then had to face was nothing short of appalling.
Administration, army, finances - everything was in a state of complete
collapse; and yet the country had to pay to Germany the unheard-of
war indemnity of one thousand million dollars, before the territory
of France was to be free from the presence of German armies! In
addition to that, political passions were at fever heat. A majority of
the members elected to the National Assembly were men of royalist
proclivities, who wished to have the republic abolished, and either
the Bourbon or the Orleans pretender called to the throne. On the
other hand, Paris and all the large cities were enthusiastically republi-
can, and made no secret of their determination to resist by force any
attempt to re-establish a monarch in France.
To reconcile these conflicting claims, to the extent of having the
settlement of purely political questions postponed to a time when
the country had been enabled to resume the normal tenor of its life,
was the task to which Thiers then devoted himself, and in the per-
formance of which he could make use of hardly any weapon save his
oratorical power. Being a member of the Assembly, he was allowed
to address it; and those of his speeches which belong to that period
of his life are among the most remarkable that have been delivered
before any parliament.
His success was not always complete. For instance, he wished the
Assembly to leave Bordeaux and come to Paris, as soon as the Ger-
man forces had left the Paris forts. All he could achieve was to
determine the Assembly, which disliked the intense republicanism of
the capital, to move to Versailles. This slight, which the Parisians
felt to be undeserved after the heroic resistance they had opposed to
the Germans in a five-months' siege, was one of the causes of the
terrible insurrection which broke out on March 18th, 1871.


## p. 14827 (#401) ##########################################

ADOLPHE THIERS
14827
It was while engaged in the sad task of repressing that insurrec-
tion that President Thiers, for the first time, openly stated his deter-
mination to keep away from any plans having for their object the
destruction of the republic. Almost up to that time he had been
known to be an advocate of constitutional monarchy. But the
strength of republican sentiment in France, and the hopeless divis-
ions of the royalists and imperialists, now convinced him that a restor-
ation of monarchy in France would be, as he soon after stated, "the
worst of revolutions. "
No wonder that the friends of the pretenders, who controlled a
majority of the Assembly, at once determined to treat him as an
enemy, and that therefore the career of his government was not an
easy one. Every day assailed by his critics, M. Theirs was constantly
compelled to take part himself in the debates of the Assembly, where
his personal ascendency often enabled him to secure a majority
against all apparent odds. The task, moreover, that had to be per-
formed by the government, was one which hardly made it possible to
M. Thiers's opponents to dispense with his services, even after the
defeat of the Paris insurrection had re-established everywhere the
sovereignty of the National Government. The German troops still
occupied a considerable part of the French territory; the enormous
war indemnity due to Germany had not been paid; the army had not
been organized; and finally, France needed to be trusted by the other
nations, and possessed then no other statesman who commanded
the respect of all the European governments in anything like the
same degree as M. Thiers. In addition thereto the country, which had
elected a good many royalists in February 1871 simply because they
more energetically than others pronounced in favor of a cessation of
the war, now every day showed by its votes in by-elections, which
were numerous, its growing affection for republican institutions, and
made the anti-republican members of the Assembly somewhat timid
in furthering plans clearly condemned by a majority of the electo-
They therefore directed their efforts to a somewhat different
object. M. Thiers's main weapon was his persuasive oratory; and the
speeches that he delivered during that period of his political life are
among his most interesting productions, even from a purely literary
standpoint. They are wonders of simplicity, of clearness, at times of
good-naturedness; but also, when needed, of dogged tenacity. If the
deliberations of the Assembly could be so conducted that M. Thiers
should be kept out of them, his opponents would have gained a great
point. And this they achieved in a great measure. They managed
to have a law framed which decided that, as M. Thiers was not sim-
ply a member of the Assembly but also President of the Republic, he
would be allowed to address the Assembly only in special sessions,
held solely for that purpose, at his own request.
rate.


## p. 14828 (#402) ##########################################

14828
ADOLPHE THIERS
Finally the work which M. Thiers had assigned to himself was
done. The enormous war indemnity was paid, thanks to the wonder-
ful success of two five per cent. loans issued by the government. A
convention was signed with Germany by virtue of which the French
territory was to be freed of German troops some time in 1873, con-
siderably before the moment at which this consummation had origi-
nally been expected. The law reorganizing the army was passed in
1872. What remained to be done now was to give France a con-
stitution; and President Thiers, in a special message, boldly asked
that that constitution should be republican.
This was too much for the anti-republicans of the Assembly. They
determined that M. Thiers must be compelled to resign his office.
On May 24th, 1873, a memorable session took place, in which the
President most impressively explained the reasons that had led him
to consider it impossible and undesirable to re-establish a monarchy
in France. He had never been so eloquent, so persuasive, so ener-
getic. All was of no avail. Everything had been settled in advance.
An adverse vote was carried by a majority of fourteen in a house of
more than seven hundred; and in the evening he resigned his office,
and Marshal MacMahon was elected by his opponents as his successor.
The last four years of his life Thiers spent in comparative retire-
ment. He remained in public life in so far as he was all the time
a member of the representative assemblies; but he very seldom took
part in discussions. His advice, however, was constantly sought by
the leaders of the republican party, with whom he came to be al-
most exclusively surrounded. Once he seemed almost on the eve of
returning to power. On May 16th, 1877, President MacMahon had, by
means that were constitutionally questionable, got rid of a republican
cabinet which possessed an undoubted majority in Parliament. The
royalists were still smarting under the bitterness of their disappoint-
ment in being unable to destroy the republic, even after the resig-
nation of President Thiers; and they were determined to give another
and desperate battle to their opponents.
A monarchical ministry
was formed; office-holders of monarchical tendencies were everywhere
substituted for the republican incumbents; and a general election was
called, in which it was hoped by the royalists that an unscrupulous
use of the governmental machinery might compel the country to
return to the house an anti-republican majority. The republicans
were led in the fight by Thiers, Gambetta, and Grévy; and their
plan was, after winning at the polls a victory which seemed to them
absolutely certain to come, to compel Marshal MacMahon to resign
the Presidency, and to reinstate M. Thiers in that office. The success
of the plan was prevented by the death of Thiers himself, who was
then in his eighty-first year. It occurred in Saint-Germain, near Paris,
on September 3d, 1877.


## p. 14829 (#403) ##########################################

ADOLPHE THIERS
14829
The great statesman's funeral was an imposing popular and re-
publican demonstration. He helped the cause he had come to love
so much, in death as he had done in life.