chess d'Angouleme and the Duchess de Berri, walked when the weather
was fine. Their dress was very much neglected, because their
attendants had not been able to bring away linen or clothes. A grave
and pensive expression sat on the faces of the beholders wherever the
cortege passed. Some officers presented themselves on the road,
bowing in homage to expiring royalty. "Gentlemen," said the king,
"keep those worthy sentiments for that child, who alone can save you
all;" and he pointed to the little flaxen-haired head of the Duke of
Bordeaux, at the window of a carriage following his own.

When the melancholy cortege, consisting of a long train of carriages,
reached the cliffs of Cherbourg, they beheld the ocean spread out in
its apparently illimitable expanse before them. Here they halted. For
a moment dismay filled their hearts; for the advance couriers came
galloping back with the tidings that a numerous band of armed
insurgents, a tumultuous mob, with shoutings like the roarings of the
sea, were advancing to assail the royal party. The king and his son,
the Duke d'Angouleme, hastily stepped from their carriages, and,
mounting horses, reached Cherbourg in safety. The ladies and children
were not molested save from the fright which they experienced.

An immense crowd thronged the streets of Cherbourg, raising
revolutionary cries, while the tri-color flags seemed to float from
every window. The port is separated from the town by a strong,
circular iron railing. The marine gate-way was guarded by some
grenadiers, who closed it as soon as the royal carriages, with the
small accompanying guard, had entered. Within this inclosure no
tri-color flag was seen, no word of reproach was uttered.

Thousands crowded to the railing, eagerly looking through the bars
upon the tragedy which was transpiring. The royal party alighted at a
small bridge, carpeted with blue cloth. The dauphine, who had passed
through so many scenes of woe, nearly fainted as with trembling steps
she entered the ship which was to bear her again to exile, and an
exile from which death alone could release her. The Duchess de Berri
assumed an air of indignation and defiance, characteristic of her
Neapolitan blood. The little Duke of Bordeaux, now called the Count
de Chambord, in behalf of whom Charles X. had abdicated, and who was
consequently now regarded by all the court party as their lawful
sovereign, was carried in the arms of M. de Dumas, who was very
app