On May 21, three days before the date fixed upon for the rising, she was waited upon by the chiefs,—­the men most likely to suffer in an abortive insurrection,—­and was assured that the attempt would fail.  Had the South risen, La Vendee would have gladly joined the insurrection; but unsupported by the South, the proposed enterprise was too rash a venture.  Overpowered by these arguments and the persuasions of those around her, Marie Caroline gave way, and consented to return to Scotland with a passport that had been provided for her.  But in the night she retracted her consent, and insisted that the rising should take place upon the 3d of June.  She was obeyed; but what little prospect of success there might have been at first, was destroyed by the counter-order of May 22.  All who rose were at once put down by the king’s troops, and atrocities on both sides were committed.

Nantes, the capital city of La Vendee, was hostile to the duchess; in Nantes, therefore, she believed her enemies would never search for her.  She took refuge there in the house of two elderly maiden ladies, the Demoiselles Duguigney, where she remained five months.  They must have been months of anguish to her, and of unspeakable impatience.  It is very possible that the Government did not care to find her.  She was the queen’s niece, and if captured what could be done with her?  To set her free to hatch new plots would have been bitterly condemned by the republicans; to imprison her would have made an additional motive for royalist conspiracies; to execute her would have been impossible.  Marie Caroline, however, had solved these difficult problems by her own misconduct.

Meantime the premiership of France passed into the hands of M. Thiers.  A Jew—­a Judas—­named Deutz, came to him mysteriously, and bargained to deliver into his hands the Duchesse de Berri.  Thiers, who had none of the pity felt for her by the Orleans family, closed with the offer.  Some years before, Deutz had renounced his Jewish faith and pretended to turn Christian.  Pope Gregory XVI. had patronized him, and had recommended him to the Duc de Berri as a confidential messenger.  He had frequently carried despatches of importance, and knew that the duchess was in Nantes, but he did not know her hiding-place.  He contrived to persuade her to grant him an interview.  It took place at the Demoiselles Duguigney’s house; but he was led to believe that she only used their residence for that purpose.  With great difficulty he procured a second interview, in the course of which, having taken his measures beforehand, soldiers surrounded the house.  Before they could enter it, word was brought to the duchess that she was betrayed.  She fled from the room, and when the soldiers entered they could not find her.  They were certain that she had not left the house.  They broke everything to pieces, sounded the walls, ripped up the beds and furniture.  Night came on, and troops were left in every chamber.  In a large garret, where there was a wide fireplace, the soldiers collected some newspapers and light wood, and about midnight built a fire.  Soon within the chimney a noise of kicking against an iron panel was heard, and voices cried:  “Let us out,—­we surrender!”