and in its darkness there is
nothing blacker than the narration of the horrible treatment of the
young dauphin by the revolutionists. The misfortunes of his father
King Louis XVI., and of Marie-Antoinette, are sufficiently well known
throughout Europe to render the repetition of them tedious; but the
evil fate of the son has been less voluminously recorded by
historians, and it is, therefore, necessary to repeat the story at
some length to render the following narratives of claims to royalty
thoroughly intelligible.

Louis-Charles was the second son of Louis XVI. and his consort
Marie-Antoinette, and was born at the Chateau of Versailles, on the
27th of March, at five minutes before seven in the evening. An hour
and a half later he was baptised with much ceremony by the Cardinal de
Rohan and the Vicar of Versailles, and received the title of Duke of
Normandy. Then the king, followed by all the court, went to the chapel
of the chateau, where _Te Deum_ was sung in honour of the event, and
subsequently the infant prince was consecrated a knight of the order
of the Holy Ghost. Fireworks were displayed on the Place d'Armes at
Versailles; and when the news reached Paris it is said "joy spread
itself from one end of the great city to the other; the cannon of the
Bastille responded to the cannon of the Invalides; and everywhere
spontaneous illuminations, the ringing of bells, and the acclamations
of the people, manifested the love of France for a king who, in the
flower of his youth, found his happiness in the happiness of the
people." Such was the introduction into the world of the young prince.

Fate seemed to have the brightest gifts in store for him. On the 4th
of June 1789, the dauphin, his elder brother, died at Meudon, and the
young Louis-Charles succeeded to his honours. At this time he was
rather more than four years old, and is described as having a graceful
and well-knit frame, his forehead broad and open, his eyebrows arched;
his large blue eyes fringed with long chestnut lashes of angelic
beauty; his complexion dazzlingly fair and blooming; his hair, of a
dark chestnut, curled naturally, and fell in thick ringlets on his
shoulders; and he had the vermilion mouth of his mother, and like her
a small dimple on the chin. In disposition he was exceedingly amiable,
and was a great favourite both with his father and mother, who
affectionately styled him their "little Norman."

His happiness was destined to be very shor