thrown on the legitimacy of the son of the duchess, the posthumous
child of the Duc de Berri. The queen of France, who was almost a
saint, had been fond of her young relative for her many engaging
qualities; and what to do with her, in justice to France, was a
difficult problem.

To the consternation and disgust of the Legitimists, the heroine
of La Vendée dropped from her pedestal and sank into the mire.
"She lost everything," says Louis Blanc,--"even the sympathy of
the most ultra-partisans of the Bourbon dynasty; and she deserved
the fate that overtook her. It was the sequel to the discovery of a
terrible secret,--a secret whose publicity became a just punishment
for her having, in pursuit of her own purposes, let loose on France
the dogs of civil war."

In the midst of enthusiasm for her courage and pity for her fate,
rose a rumor that the duchess would shortly give birth to a child.
It was even so. The news fell like a blow on the hearts of the
royalists. If she had made a clandestine, morganatic marriage, she
had by the law of France forfeited her position as regent during
her son's minority; she had forgotten his claims on her and those
of France. If there was no marriage, she had degraded herself past
all sympathy. At any rate, now she was harmless. The policy of
the Government was manifestly to let her child be born at Blaye,
and then send her to her Neapolitan home.

Her desire was to leave Blaye before her confinement. In vain she
pleaded her health and a tendency to consumption. The Government
sent physicians to Blaye, among them the doctor who had attended
the duchess after the birth of the Duc de Bordeaux; for it insisted