The strong man of 6 feet 4 inches was still teetotal but he had now passed his 51^st birthday, 15 days prior to giving this important speech in New York. However, he was currently suffering unusually from a variant of stage fright, being afraid that his western accent and mannerisms might appear laughable to a sophisticated eastern audience.

1,500 highly prominent and discerning New Yorkers, whose judgement could decide the 51 year-old’s imminent fate, were waiting for him in that audience. However, the politician from Illinois was frozen to his chair in the preparation room allocated to him. In desperation, his cousin, John Hanks, asked their host to find, with the utmost discretion, a doctor.

"Hello, gentlemen!" a cultured voice, with a hint of a French accent, was eventually heard from nearby. The tall 51 year-old turned to see a well-dressed, distinguished-looking local man in his mid-seventies, still with reddish fair hair and with a black man and mulatto woman in his company, smiling at him.

The tall 51 year-old, no longer frozen to his chair, immediately stood and rushed to greet the arrivals, whom, despite the time lag, he had recognised from New Orleans, almost 29 years previously. He quickly discovered that the black youth he had met that day had subsequently married the mulatto girl, who had been bought and freed by the doctor with the hint of French accent and reddish fair hair. He also learnt that the physician, because he finally perceptively decided that conflict was approaching and that he therefore had to live in a non-slave state, had eventually moved with his family and employees to New York, from where he had followed the politician’s career with interest.

Nothing was said between the 51 year-old from Illinois and the doctor, who would celebrate his 75^th birthday in exactly a month, about the reason for the latter’s summons. It was apparent that the mere, unexpected arrival of the physician and his two companions had helped to resolve his would-be patient’s unusual attack of nerves.

Nevertheless, the doctor, aware of the reason for his summons, decided to ensure that the politician went on stage suitably fired up. "Do you remember what you said," the physician therefore eventually asked, "in the slave market in New Orleans all those years ago that caused us to meet?"

For once, a questioner did not let a politician dominate a debate, as the doctor then answered his own query. "You said," the physician reminded the 51 year-old, "whilst referring to slavery, ‘If I ever get a chance to hit that thing, I’ll hit it hard!’ Well, you now have an opportunity to fulfil your vow. Go and clinch it, for the sake of humanity and the moral soul of the United States of America!"

Without further hesitation, other than a brief pause to embrace the doctor, the politician then went out and gave the speech of his life so far. He eventually concluded with the declaration "Let us have faith that right makes might and, in that faith, let us to the end dare to do our duty as we understand it!"

The men and women of the audience, including the doctor and his two companions, then rose to their feet in a rapturous ovation, during which much cheering, supportive shouting and waving of hats and handkerchiefs were evident. The New York newspapers subsequently printed the speech in full, with universal enthusiasm.

One newspaper suggested that seldom had a visiting politician made such a profound impression on a New York audience. For the man from Illinois, the success represented a major turning point in his fortunes, and that of his nation.

(White House, Washington D.C., USA, over 1 year later, 4 March 1861)

After the inauguration on the East Portico of the Capitol of his successor, and before retiring to his home in Pennsylvania, James Buchanan had a quiet meeting with the incoming President to brief him personally about the most important state secrets. The jaw of the new American Head of State dropped in incredulity when he was appraised about one particular fact.

(White House, Washington D.C., USA, almost 2 years later, 1 January 1863)

The President signed the emancipation proclamation that finally ended slavery within the Union.

(Arlington National Cemetery, Virginia, USA, 31 March 1865)

On the day that one of the final battles of the American Civil War was taking place elsewhere in Virginia, at Dinwiddie Court House, the funeral of a man was taking place at the newly established Arlington National Cemetery. The land on which the aged, honorary Union officer was to be buried had ironically been confiscated from Robert E. Lee. The federal government had taken the opportunity to seize the property when the Confederate general’s wife had failed to appear in person to pay $92.07 in back taxes.

The funeral was of a remarkably still robust doctor who, had sadly died on his 80^th birthday, 4 days previously. Despite his advanced aged, he had remained professionally very active until almost literally his dying moment, being a much-needed voluntary battlefield surgeon. In the aftermath of the battle of Fort Stedman in Virginia, a Confederate sniper had shot the physician, who then died 2 days afterwards. However, by then, the man had departed life happy, surrounded by at least some of his summoned, extended family and many close friends, amongst whom all of his sons and grandsons wore the uniforms of Union officers, principally, following familial tradition, denoting medical ranks.

The dying man’s contentment had also been aided by two other factors. First, he had lived to witness the emancipation of the slaves in his adopted homeland, which had been an ambition ever since he had arrived in the country as a young boy. Second, he recognised that the current, terrible Civil War was about to end, with victory going to the side espousing rightful freedom and justice for all, regardless of race, colour or creed.

A very special guest attended the funeral and he was currently paying his respects to the widow and oldest son of the deceased. The tall, now bearded 56 year-old had earlier presented an unusual wreath of yellow irises, symbolic to the knowledgeable of the ancient golden heraldic emblem of the Kings of France, fleur-de-lis.

"How did you come to learn of my husband’s real background," the widow quietly but bluntly asked of the very important guest, with clear concern evident in her eyes, "as he was supposed to have kept the relevant facts secret from all but his closest family?"

(Streets of Paris, France, almost 70 years previously, May 1795)

As Dr. Desault walked home, the chant of "Liberté! Egalité! Fraternité!" relentlessly continued to haunt his anguished mind, alongside the vision of little Louis-Charles suffering, and the mental torment eventually became too much for the physician to endure without taking action. The 49 year-old therefore suddenly and fatefully decided that the honour of both France and the revolution demanded that he ensured that the three words of the motto, which actually pre-dated the revolution, applied as much to the poor imprisoned boy as to anyone else.

Consequently, Dr. Desault did not now enter his own home but went instead to someone else’s residence.

(American Mission, Paris, France, shortly afterwards, May 1795)

"Why me?" the 57 year-old English radical asked of the doctor, appointed to attend to him by the man responsible for his release, 6 months previously, from the Luxembourg Prison, namely the American Minister to France. Although neither patient nor physician had originally spoken much of the other’s native language, both had subsequently acquired enough linguistic knowledge to communicate effectively.

"There are five main reasons," Dr. Desault answered in a strange but understandable mixture of English and French, "and the first and foremost is that I trust you. You have also recently expressed to me immense sympathy for the plight of the boy, after I confidentially appraised you about the child’s plight."

"The second main reason," Desault advised, "is that I believe, from your speeches and writings, that you are not only a highly considerate humanist but also a very brave one who is prepared to endanger himself by putting theory into practice. Such an attribute was clearly illustrated by your courageous speech and vote in favour of saving the life of the poor boy’s father, which you made despite your dislike of monarchy and which eventually cost you imprisonment."

"The third main reason," Desault continued, "is the fact that the new country that has adopted you once honoured the boy’s father for supporting, at great cost, its fight for independent nationhood, and therefore perhaps owes his son a favour. Fourth, the child must be quickly smuggled out of France for his own health and safety, and your new position, in this Mission, might help to facilitate that, given your access to ambassadorial travel documents. Fifth, if you are caught, diplomatic immunity should see you expelled rather than guillotined!"

"But my position is not diplomatic and carries no immunity from prosecution in France," the English radical protested, "as my post is merely regarded as being within my employer’s household, not his embassy." "Do you mean that the author of ‘The Rights of Man’ and your latest work, drafted in the Luxembourg prison, ‘The Age of Reason’, will not help a sad, ill boy?" Desault retorted, with clear incredulity and shocked horror evident on his face. "The poor child," the physician managed to remind his host, despite his mounting despair and as his eyes became damp, "has been incarcerated in appalling conditions for almost 3 years, during which time the poor mite has suffered much extreme mental and physical abuse!"

"I didn’t say that I wouldn’t help," a suddenly embarrassed and alarmed Englishman replied, whilst beginning to realise that his fervent humanist beliefs really would not allow him to refuse Desault’s desperate entreaty. "However," the host asked of his suddenly mightily relieved guest, "is the boy well enough to be rescued?"

"Yes," Desault responded, "as I and his official guardians, Laurent, Gomin and Lasne, have been deliberately exaggerating the boy’s condition in order to try to have him treated better, including moving him out of the ‘Temple’ and into better surrounds. The child, although still very poorly, is not yet fatally or irrecoverably ill. However, we must now act quickly if the mental health of little Louis-Charles is not to deteriorate irreparably. He must acquire a normal childhood existence soon!"

"It’s apparent," Desault suggested, "that the authorities have no immediate intention of releasing Louis-Charles to better circumstances, at least until it would probably be too late for his mental recovery. Laurent has now left but I’m sure that Gomin and Lasne are prepared to risk their lives with me to help the boy escape. However, I tell you quite bluntly that we would do so not as royalists, because we are all republicans, but rather because the child is so innocent and delightful, and has never deserved the vile treatment he has received."

"As a precaution against future monarchist attempts to use Louis-Charles in their intrigues," Desault advised, "I shall insist that the boy swears an oath never to seek the throne of France but instead go permanently into distant anonymous exile. Despite the child’s tender age, I’m all sure that, in future years, his inherent honesty will ensure that he’ll keep his word."

"Meanwhile," Desault continued, "I’ll prove my own commitment to the boy, as opposed to his status of King, by not just risking my life for little Louis-Charles but actually dying in his cause!"

(Hôpital d’Humanité, Paris, France, a few weeks later, late May 1795)

Dr. Pierre Desault examined the poor, fair-haired, blue-eyed urchin, who was about 10 year of age and had been discovered unconscious on the streets of Paris, just as many of his kind were found daily. The boy was emaciated through lack of food, although his stomach was swollen, and was unwashed, filthy and flea-ridden, and consequently covered in bites, sores and scabs. The child’s head was permanently drooping and there were also nasty tumours on his torso and limbs, which must have made movement increasingly difficult for him. He was additionally suffering acute diarrhoea and was mute, confused and extremely sensitive to sound. However, none of these grievous symptoms of destitution made recovery impossible. Instead, the physician realised that the child, whose struggled breathing positively rattled, was incurably on the brink of death because of his advanced tuberculosis.

Dr. Pierre Desault disliked what he now proposed to do with the dying boy but consoled himself with the fact that, as a result, the 10 year-old would not have died in vain. The child’s sad demise would hopefully instead mean the reprieve from a similar unfortunate end for another youngster.

(The ‘Temple’, Paris, France, several days later, 4 June 1795)

The sudden and mysterious death of Dr. Pierre Desault had been reported 3 days previously and the childless, widower physician had already been buried. Despite the rumours that he had been poisoned, there had been no autopsy.

Meanwhile, the soldiers on guard at the ‘Temple’ gates and elsewhere inside the prison took little notice of Etienne Lasne arriving on a donkey-driven cart with the daily basket of freshly laundered attire and bedclothes for the incarcerated Louis-Charles. The whole of the garrison now knew that the boy prisoner was on the brink of death. In fact, most of the sentinels, carefully selected for their ardent republicanism, were quite happy about the prospect of the royal child’s imminent demise.

The soldiers’ common disregard for the contents of the laundry basket arose from their belief that no one could possibly want to smuggle anything into the ‘Temple’. Their subsequent, only recently acquired, disinterest in the outgoing basket from Louis-Charles’ quarters came from their view that there was no point in trying to smuggle a dying boy out. No one also fancied providing the dirty laundry of a fatally disease-ridden child with too close an inspection. Anyway, Jean-Baptiste Gomin, who now rode the cart, was well known by the guards for his own republicanism and hatred of the former monarchy.

(American Mission, Paris, later same day, 4 June 1795)

Jean-Baptiste Gomin carried the laundry basket into the American Mission. His load was relatively light, despite the presence of a 10 year-old boy inside, whose emaciation made his body light.

Three men waited for Gomin’s arrival. One was the very much still-alive Dr. Pierre Desault, who had found it remarkably easy for a physician to fake his own death. He had even been rather happy to so falsify his demise that the event had cast aspersions on the National Convention, who had ultimately been responsible for Louis-Charles’ maltreatment and at whose dinner he had supposedly first taken ill.

Desault had decided that Louis-Charles needed the constant supervision of an expert doctor in order to recover fully from his terrible ordeal and he could think of no one better to perform the task than himself. The physician knew that this would mean him following the boy into his intended exile in America but, being a childless widower, the man had few ties to keep him in Paris. He had additionally become disillusioned with the revolution in his homeland, during which many atrocities had occurred, not least against the person of his new sole patient, whom he had very quickly come not only to pity but also somehow love platonically.

Desault’s sudden disappearance, soon after being appointed as physician to the little King without a crown imprisoned in the ‘Temple’, might, however, have raised too many awkward questions, perhaps causing the boy’s substitution to be subsequently uncovered. This could have endangered the whole enterprise, or at least the lives of those involved who had remained in Paris. The good doctor had therefore decided that the problem was best resolved by faking his own death.

The other two men now present were the English radical and the American Minister to France, who was later to become famous for a particular doctrine. The former had felt obliged to inform the latter about the plot to rescue little Louis-Charles and seek his blessing.

Despite the American Minister’s undisguised support for the French Revolution, the Englishman knew that the Virginian’s strong humanism would encourage him to be supportive, despite the potential dire consequences for his career if his involvement in such interference with another nation’s internal affairs was ever publicly revealed.

The Englishman’s judgement had been proved correct when the Virginian had calmly responded to his startling revelation, about the conspiracy to rescue Louis-Charles, with the remark "As the American Minister to France, I forbid you to become involved. As a man, I want to know how I can help!"

With Gomin’s careful assistance, Dr. Pierre Desault undertook the delicate task to lift little Louis-Charles out of the laundry basket. As soon as the Englishman and American then saw the child, they gasped in horror at the youngster’s physical state. The white-faced prince looked more like a skeleton than a 10 year-old boy.

Nevertheless, little Louis-Charles was alert enough to reveal a smile on this pale, shallow face and whisper "Thank you, gentleman, for rescuing me from hell!"

Referring to the diplomatic status of the Mission premises, the American Minister responded in excellent French "Welcome to the protection of the United States of America, your majesty!"

"Thank you, Sir," Louis-Charles, who was now cradled in Desault’s loving arms, replied politely before enquiring "but may I ask who is welcoming me?"

"I’m sorry, your majesty," the American Minister then answered, "please forgive my lack of politeness in failing to introduce myself. My name is James Monroe!"

The future 5^th President of the United States then turned to the English radical to add "And this is Thomas Paine!"

(The ‘Temple’, Paris, France, 2 days later, 6 June 1795)

Louis-Charles’ new physician, Philippe-Jean Pelletan, who was the late Dr. Pierre Desault’s replacement as principal surgeon of Hôpital d’Humanité, arrived to see his new, sadly dying patient for the first time. He found the mute boy in the care of Jean-Baptiste Gomin and Etienne Lasne.

The boy was emaciated, although his stomach was swollen, and covered in sores and scabs. The child’s head was permanently drooping and there were also nasty tumours on his torso and limbs, which must have made movement increasingly difficult for him. He was additionally suffering acute diarrhoea and was mute, confused and extremely sensitive to sound.

Pelletan gave the boy just a few days to live and his judgement was sadly to prove sound.

(US naval ship, port of Cherbourg, France, 1 month later, July 1795)

After a month of secret, careful, well supervised recuperation for little Louis-Charles within the American Mission, James Monroe set off himself for Cherbourg, where a US naval vessel was due to arrive with some replacement staff and supplies for his embassy. The Minister, of course, would not normally make the long coach trip, along the badly maintained, narrow lanes of France, but he let it known that he wanted to enjoy some seaside air.

In fact, the Minister’s closed horse-drawn carriage, driven and protected by both his staff and diplomatic passes, was also the mode of transport to Cherbourg for Louis-Charles, now fit to travel, and Dr. Desault, in the loving comfort of whose lap the boy sat most of the way. The child, visibly improving every day now that he was out of the dreaded ‘Temple’, had previously in Paris tearfully said his farewells and again expressed his deep thanks for his rescue and life to Gomin, Lesne and Paine.

Now, having also performed the same politeness for James Monroe, little Louis-Charles had been carefully lifted up from his feet by Dr. Desault. The latter had done this so that the boy could peer out of the porthole of the pleasant guest cabin that they had been allocated on the American military sailing ship.

"Look!" little Louis-Charles excitedly instructed the good doctor, who was now like a father to him. The boy now pointed to some relatively new port improvements and older fortifications.

"They must be the harbour works," little Louis-Charles suggested, "that my father told me that he had commissioned for this port, and those defences must be those ordered by his predecessor’s predecessor!" The delightful boy, somehow remembering the family achievements he had once been taught, was, of course, referring respectively to Louis XVI and XIV. Dr. Desault smiled at the child’s recall, as it further exemplified the 10 year-old’s gradual recovery to full mental as well as physical health.

The ship set sail for New York on the evening tide, although there would first be a landing in Virginia to drop off a couple of obviously important but, as far as the crew was concerned, incognito passengers. The latter were destined initially for James Monroe’s extensive family property in the future 5^th President’s home state.

(New Orleans, 2 years later, summer 1797)

With Monroe’s initial financial help, Dr. Desault, now with a pseudonym and armed with papers suggesting that he was truly the widower father of a boy named Louis-Charles, moved south. He and the child settled in New Orleans, which was the capital of the vast colonial region called Louisiana. Their quest to settle in relative obscurity there amongst fellow nationals, the local French colonists, was despite the fact that the territory had been ceded by France to Spain in 1763.

Perhaps rather appropriately, the city in which they settled comfortably had been named after one of the boy’s ancestors, the Duc d’Orléans, and the region after another, Louis XIV. The metropolis was currently prospering, with the local cathedral being built in 1794 and the fine Cabildo buildings in the following year.

Dr. Desault was also to prosper. His reputation, under his pseudonym, as a fine physician quickly spread and his practice soon thrived. Unfortunately, his two hospital assistants, Choppart and Doublet, left behind in France and who thought their superior deceased, were by now themselves genuinely dead, of real natural causes.

On this hot summer’s day, the now 12 year-old and happy Louis-Charles was exploring the garden of his new home. The comfortable, wooden, middle-class dwelling did not, of course, possess the splendid facilities of Versailles but it was nevertheless, after his appalling experiences in the ‘Temple’, very much a palace as far as the boy was now concerned.

Loius-Charles had fully recovered his physical and mental health. Perhaps miraculously, but more probably as a result of his adoptive father’s expertise, he did so with no apparent residual ill effects. Meanwhile, the boy had, from his own experiences, recognised the wonders good medical treatment could do for people, and he had already promised himself that someday he too would become a doctor, which he now considered to be the most noble of professions, even in comparison to being a king.

Louis-Charles suddenly noticed the head of a similarly aged and pretty boy pop up from behind the perimeter fence. This sight was soon joined by the even lovelier spectacle of the visage possessed by 12 year-old neighbour’s younger sister.

The subsequent meeting was to prove fateful for all three children.

(New Orleans, Louisiana, USA, almost 15 years later, 30 April 1812)

After New Orleans had been returned by Spain to French rule in 1802, Napoleon Bonaparte quickly, in the following year, sold the whole region to the United States of America, which consequently more than doubled in size. This ‘Louisiana Purchase’, partly negotiated by James Monroe, and the later accession of the new eponymous state to the Union on the 30^th of April 1812, made both Dr. Desault and Louis-Charles American citizens.

(New Orleans, Louisiana, USA, almost 3 years later, 8 January 1815)

Amongst American General Andrew Jackson’s soldiers defending New Orleans from the British was a brave, handsome, 29 year-old man, with big blue eyes and strawberry-blonde hair. However, being a qualified doctor, he actually did little fighting, being instead occupied largely with treating many of the wounded. Nevertheless, he was still able to display his gallantry by courageously rescuing a number of the injured from dangerously exposed positions.

Unfortunately, one of the casualties that Louis-Charles was unable to save was his 69 year-old adoptive father. Dr. Desault, in an incident that was to be eerily re-enacted on a certain Civil War battlefield 50 years later, had been serving in a similar medical capacity and had been fatally shot through the head by the British.

(Saint Denis, near Paris, over 1 year later, 1816)

Marie-Thérèse watched the ceremonial internment of the bodies of her mother and father, King Louis XVI and Queen Marie-Antoinette. Napoleon’s attempts to return to power had been thwarted during the previous year on the battlefield of Waterloo and so her uncle, Louis XVIII, was now again monarch of France. However, two people inside the great Gothic church knew that there was someone else present with a much better claim to the throne.

Marie-Thérèse smiled at the very handsome, healthy 31 year-old gentleman, with the big blue eyes and strawberry-blonde hair, who sat amongst the small watching delegation of American diplomats. However, the Princess fully appreciated that the guest was not actually from the US Mission but was instead someone who had travelled all the way from his adopted homeland just to observe and pay his respects at this ceremony.

Marie-Thérèse knew this fact because she had finally and joyfully met her beloved younger brother again in great secrecy a few days previously. The Duchesse d’Angoulême’s earlier utter disdain for those pretending to be her sibling came from being told by Monroe, over 20 years previously, in a closed coach outside the ‘Temple’, that the boy had escaped to the USA. Once the child had settled and heard of his sister’s release and exile, he also subsequently exchanged regular correspondence and personal news and views with her. The latter included his increasing hatred for slavery, which was perhaps induced as much by his own earlier loss of freedom as by his kindly personality.

Over subsequent years, Marie-Thérèse had stoically observed Louis-Charles’ wish that his survival and new life should remain secret, despite often being tempted by the appearance of pretenders to do otherwise. She had also not found too taxing extending the melancholy that permanently pervaded her, as a result of the loss of her beloved father, mother, aunt and ultimately lover and illegitimate son, apparently to cover her brother as well.

During Louis-Charles’ short stay in Paris, he and Marie-Thérèse enjoyed some long secret conversations together, during which he, in his curious, now heavily American-accented French, again confirmed to his sister his earnest desire to keep to two oaths. The first had been made to his father, 23 years before, and had promised not to seek revenge on those who had executed the King. The second was his pledge never to seek the French throne but to live instead in anonymous distant exile, which he had, however, presumed excused his attendance at his own parent’s re-internment.

Marie-Thérèse did not want to doubt her sibling’s stated motives for maintaining his obscure anonymity. However, the Duchesse d’Angoulême did wonder how much of Louis-Charles’ devout intention to stick to the terms of the second oath was due more to his obviously serene life in America, where he was very happily married and already had his own child.

(Grand Hôpital de L’Unité, Paris, 22 years previously, March 1794)

"Obviously, for security reasons, you won’t be able to castrate the little serpent, Louis-Charles, here," Jacques-René Hébert advised his second cousin, as the latter continued to stitch the empty scrotum of the young aristocrat, who coincidentally was the same age and possessed similar features to the imprisoned prince. The committeeman had just fulfilled a long-term sadistic desire to watch Nicolas castrate a young noble.

"When can you go the ‘Temple’ to geld the brat?" Jacques-René Hébert then asked of Nicolas. "Would next week do," the latter enquired in response, "as he’ll need to be starved and purged for such a period first?"

"If you insist," Jacques-René replied. However, the delay was to prove fateful for little Louis-Charles’ balls.

The planned castration never took place because, by the following week, Robespierre had moved against Jacques-René Hébert and his supporters, including Nicolas.

Instead of little Louis-Charles losing his balls a week later, the Héberts had lost their heads to ‘Madame Guillotine’.

(New Orleans, over 3 years later, summer 1797)

The meeting of the three children was fateful because the two boys became not only lifelong friends but also later brothers-in-law. The blue-eyed newcomer, with the strawberry-blonde hair and posh French accent, subsequently married his young neighbour’s sister.

The beautiful girl was the offspring of a rich French colonialist, who was originally of peasant birth. His daughter was therefore no aristocrat and so, under the ‘ancien régime’ of Louis-Charles’ forebears, would have been considered totally unsuitable to marry a King of France. However, in the new, more proletarian life literally being enjoyed by the young newcomer, she was to prove to be the perfect match for the boy once entombed alive in the ‘Temple’.

(Arlington National Cemetery, Virginia, USA, almost 68 years later, 31 March 1865)"Thank you for coming, Sir," the widow said, as she bade farewell to the tall, bearded 56 year-old. "It’s the least that I could do," the important guest replied, "for someone who died in the cause of the Union, as well as once inspiring me to make a speech that eventually propelled me to the White House!"

Earlier, to the widow, the important guest’s floral tribute clearly revealed that the eminent man was aware of her late husband’s true history. "The facts were revealed as a state secret by Monroe to Quincy Adams and by him to Jackson and so on until Buchanan told me," the tall, bearded 56 year-old had answered. "Having a citizen," he continued, "who, in other circumstances, might be the King of France is considered important for the White House incumbent to know, for reasons of national security!"

"Your oldest son here," the President smilingly advised, referring to a 50 year-old man with reddish fair hair, dressed in the dark blue uniform of a Union medical officer, "also now inherits his father’s status. As he happily has his own healthy children and grandchildren, I dare say that I shall have to pass on the same facts to my own successor and him to his, and so on ad infinitum. However, don’t worry, as I’m sure that all future Presidents will respect your family’s obvious desire to maintain the secret!"

Unfortunately, the President never did pass on the revised secret information directly to his own successor, Andrew Johnson. Abraham Lincoln instead died 15 days later, on the 15^th of April 1865, having been shot by John Wilkes Booth on the previous evening at Ford’s Theatre in Washington.

(A certain university, northern England, over 139 years later, Easter, April 2004)

Dr. Peter Barry did not mind the tear droplet that had earlier run down his cheek, as it had been one of happiness not sadness. The historian was now sure, in his own mind, that his colleague’s theory about the fate of little Louis XVII was correct.

The Professor of American Studies had come across the supporting letters accidentally, whilst researching for a proposed biography of James Monroe. The long-forgotten documents had not been amongst official papers relating to the Virginian’s Presidency, which ran from 1817 until 1825, but had been found amongst the archives of family descendants.

On discovering the letters, Dr. Barry’s colleague had presumed that Monroe would have wanted to respect Louis Charles’ desire to keep to his oath and live in anonymous exile. The 5^th President, after his eventual death in 1831, would therefore have secured the secrets contained in the documents by bequeathing them, with appropriate instructions, to a trusted family member. Later, obscurity for the papers was probably achieved by being filed away in seemingly relatively unimportant large archives, where no one bothered to read them because they were written in French.

The letters to James Monroe included ones from Dr. Desault and Louis-Charles, despatched from New Orleans, and from Marie-Thérèse, sent from Austria, Russia, England and France. The Princess had entered into a lengthy correspondence with the important American, which lasted from shortly after their first meeting, outside the infamous ‘Temple’ on the day before her 17^th birthday, until the 5^th President’s death.

The letters indicated Marie-Thérèse’s immense gratitude for the role that Monroe had played in her brother’s salvation, as well as for her own discharge from the awful ‘Temple’. Although they never met again after December 1795, the correspondence also undoubtedly reflected a perhaps unusual literary friendship, between modern American republican and President and the daughter of an ‘ancien régime’ European King. However, probably most of all, the documents represented a woman’s desire to communicate with someone who could tell her independently how her brother and his family were faring in the United States.

Although the reciprocal correspondence to Marie-Thérèse was apparently lost, plenty of information about her brother’s life in the Americas could still be gleaned from the questions and comments in her own letters to Monroe, as well as from those sent to the 5^th President by Dr. Desault and Louis-Charles himself. Dr. Barry’s colleague, benefiting from now knowing the pseudonym under which the boy had resettled in Louisiana, had then researched elsewhere to fill in the gaps in the history.

The Professor of American Studies gained from such US sources, which included a visit to a certain grave, his knowledge about Louis-Charles’ life after the various letters to Monroe had stopped in 1831, the year of the 5^th President’s death. However, the tale about the unfulfilled threat to the imprisoned boy’s balls had emanated from contemporary French hearsay.

Dr. Barry had asked the Professor "The letters and your other research are important finds, so why don’t you use them to challenge the DNA tests that supposedly proved that Louis-Charles died in the ‘Temple’ in 1795?" "I have done, albeit with quiet diplomacy in the relevant academic circles," his colleague answered, "but the correspondence, despite definitely being contemporary to the period, has been dismissed as fraudulent."

"Opponents of my theory," the Professor continued, whilst displaying clear exasperation, "propound that the letters were invented to support the case of yet another, now forgotten American pretender to the French throne and then subsequently sometime collected in the Monroe family archive as a fake curiosity. Without substantial secondary proof, which I don’t possess, I can’t rebut this line, especially as I can’t encourage any of those I’ve identified as being possibly some of the Louis-Charles’ descendants to confirm their lineage. They all seem very content to live quietly as ordinary Americans instead of being publicly exposed as prospective foreign royalty. Meanwhile, those who claim to be the legitimate Bourbon line are keen not to have their status and associated inheritances challenged!"

Dr. Barry yet again viewed the print of a portrait by Alexandre Kucharski, dated about 1792, of the boy about whose sufferings and later life he had just finished writing. The historian hoped that he had done his subject justice.

Dr. Barry could also not help but wonder whether King Louis XVII’s family line was truly still extant and, if so, where in the world the current rightful pretenders to the throne of France might now be.(Saint Denis, near Paris, France, same time)

The 40 year-old American tourist and his 10 year-old son stood, inside the great Gothic church of Saint Denis near Paris, before the statues of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette of France, who were depicted kneeling in prayer. The bodies and hearts of these monarchs, and many of their ancestors, were resting nearby. Although an inscribed tomb had also been designed for the son of the executed King and Queen, the little orphan incarcerated in the ‘Temple’, it had never been built because the poor boy’s body had never been found.

The normally very pleasant but currently unnaturally sulky and unhappy American boy had earlier complained once more to his father, as they approached the entrance to the great church and in his New York accent. "Gee, dad," the child had asked, "why do we have to come here and not go to Paris Disneyland like mom and Marie?" The latter was the 10 year-old’s elder sister.

"As I said before," the father answered with patient forbearance, as he could recall his own reluctance when first brought to this place by his own male parent 30 years previously, "you’ll soon find out without me having to tell you!" The son then discovered what the man, who had followed family tradition by becoming a doctor of medicine, meant, as they entered the ancient church.

The boy suddenly stopped in his tracks and announced in awe "Gee, dad, I feel funny!" His father had been expecting the announcement because he was experiencing similar emotions, as he did on every visit here.

The boy subsequently did not resist the invitation to hold his father’s hand, which, in other circumstances, the 10 year-old would have considered a rather sissy gesture. Despite their mutual peculiar feelings, the man then gently encouraged his son to venture inside the church.

"Dad, why am I feeling like this?" the concerned boy asked of his father inside the ecclesiastical building, as the pair approached the statues of the kneeling Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette, as well as the other tombs of the monarchs and princes of France. "I’ll tell you," the man quietly responded, "if you promise not to tell another soul except your eventual wife and children."

The boy initially blushed at his father’s implied suggestion that he might someday form a marital alliance with a girl to have children. Nevertheless, the 10 year-old quickly overcame his immature distaste for such a notion, being instead eager to learn the secret, and made the required promise.

"What you can feel, Louis," the father then informed his son, who shared the man’s main Christian name, "is your European ancestors welcoming you to their eternal place of rest!" The 40 year-old doctor then glanced at the boy’s incredulous face.

Staring in astonishment back at the father was a healthy, very pretty, sensitive but confident-looking boy, who possessed big blue eyes, rosy lips and cheeks and well groomed, straight, strawberry-blonde hair.

(Fort Stedman, Virginia, 139 years previously, 27 March 1865)

The aged doctor uttered his last words to those of his family and friends who were present at his bedside. Before closing his big blue eyes forever, the 80 year-old whispered "Liberté! Egalité! Fraternitié!" 

THE END

of

LIBERTÉ! EGALITÉ! FRATERNITÉ!

by Pueros

 Acknowledgements

Pueros wishes to acknowledge the importance of ‘The Lost King of France’ by Deborah Cadbury (Fourth Estate, London, 2002) in writing ‘Liberté! Egalité! Fraternité!’ This book, along with a number of the works listed in the associated bibliography and checked, formed the principal source for many of the quotes and scenes in the story regarding Louis-Charles’ early years. However, as indicated, much of the information relating to the later life of the boy and his family originated elsewhere.

Pueros would be happy to e-mail a scan of the portrait by Alexandre Kucharski, of Louis-Charles as a 7 year-old, to any reader who cares to request a copy.