Monday, 24 February 2020

Louis XVII - the burial of a prince

Here is the moving account of the burial of Louis-Charles's reconstructed from the recollections of those involved by the great 19th-century historian Alcide Beauchesne:

Funeral convoy of the Son of Capet, June 1794.  From a contemporary watercolour
[Illustration from Lenotre, Le roi Louis XVII et l'énigme du Temple]
On the 22nd Prairial (Wednesday, 10th June), at six o'clock in the evening, citizen Dusser, police commissary, accompanied by citizens Arnoult and Goddet, civic commissaries of the Temple section, presented himself at the tower of the Temple, in order, conformably with a decree issued by the Council of General Safety, to proceed to the official verification of the decease of the unfortunate little Capet, and the interment of his remains.

They went up with the keepers to the second story of the tower.

 A ray of sunshine gleamed through the window, and fell on the blood-stained sheet which covered the remains of the descendant of Louis XIV, now stretched on a wooden bedstead, without any mattress.

The sheet being removed, the victim was seen by the new commissaries, bearing the traces left by the professional men; the scalpel of science had mutilated that body, already disfigured by suffering, but it had respected the pale emaciated face, on which an expression of indescribable calmness and purity had succeeded to that of pain.

His lips, so far from being contracted by death, wore the appearance of mildness and serenity; his eyes, not closed by mortal hand, had closed of themselves; or rather, one might have said, that since the fatal couch had been deserted by man, an angel had breathed on that little head, which, youthful and delicate as it was, had yet borne the crown of thorns like the rest of his family.

The mortuary register was drawn up: this paper, which has been up to the present day so little known that its existence might have been denied, seems to us sufficiently interesting to be reproduced here:


After having signed this document in the next room, the commissioners again approached the fatal couch.

I know not what sentiments may have been awakened in their minds by a spectacle so extraordinarily mournful, but they looked on it for some time, mute and motionless.

At length, breaking this long silence: "Is not all ready?" asked one of them. "What is the man that was sent for about?" "I am waiting," replied a deep voice from the shadowed part of the room; it was that of the man employed in interments, who was standing near the door, with a coffin under his arm,

"Come nearer, and let us make haste."

And the undertaker put down his boards on the floor. He took the body of the royal orphan, and laid it naked in the bier, for he who had been cradled in purple had not a winding-sheet in which to be interred. "Stop, here's something to put under his head," said the youngest commissary, presenting his handkerchief; and his colleagues looked on him with a dubious glance, astonished at his weakness, perhaps at his boldness and reverence for the dead. This example gave encouragement to the good-natured Lasne, who hastened to bring a sheet to serve as a shroud—I would say, a royal mantle—for this last King of the monarchy; for it is only in this indigent and humiliating winding-sheet that his corpse will appear in history.

And the fir planks were fastened down with four nails, while the sound of the hammer on the coffin of the child shook the floor of the old room, and awoke the slumbering echoes in the feudal tower.

The bier was taken down into the first court, laid upon tressels, and covered with a black cloth. As they left the threshold of the deserted room, where so much unknown suffering had passed away, poor Gomin said to Gourlet, who was walking behind the others: "You have no need to shut the iron door now!" He was right, the prisoner was free—the prison was to remain mournful and silent—human depravity had done its work, and retired!

It was seven o'clock when the police commissary ordered the body to be taken up, and that they should proceed to the cemetery. It was the season of the longest days, and therefore the interment did not take place in secrecy and at night, as some misinformed narrators have said or written; it took place in broad daylight, and attracted a great concourse of people before the gates of the Temple palace. One of the municipals wished to have the coffin carried out secretly, by the door opening into the chapel enclosure; but M. Dusser, police commissary, who was specially entrusted with the arrangement of the ceremony—to the great satisfaction of Lasne and Gomin—opposed this indecorous measure, and the procession passed out through the great gate. The crowd that was pressing round was kept back, and compelled to keep a line by a tri-coloured ribbon, held at short distances by gendarmes. Compassion and sorrow were impressed on every countenance.

 A small detachment of the troops of the line from the garrison of Paris, sent by the authorities, was in waiting for the procession, to serve as an escort. They departed. The bier, still covered with the pall, was carried on a litter, on the shoulders of four men, who relieved each other two at a time; it was preceded by six or eight men, headed by a Serjeant.  Dusser walked behind, with Lasne and the civic commissary before-mentioned; Damont, who was on duty the day of the death, 20th Prairial; Darlot, on duty the 21st; Guérin. the 22nd; and Bigot, who was to have been so next day. With them were also Goddet, Biard, and Arnoult, whom the Temple section had appointed to assist Dusser in making the official report of the decease, and superintending the interment. Then came six or eight more men and a corporal. They proceeded along the streets of La Corderie, Bretagne, Pont-aux-Choux, Saint-Sébastien, Popincourt, and Basfroid, and entered the cemetery of Sainte Marguerite by the Rue Saint-Bernard.

The procession was accompanied a long way by the crowd, and a great number of persons followed it even to the cemetery. Those few soldiers round a little bier attracted the attention of the public, and called forth questions all along their way. In particular, there was a marked movement of interest in a numerous group that had formed at the corner of the Boulevard and the Rue Pont-aux-Choux, and which was mainly composed of women. The name of "Little Capet," and the more popular title of Dauphin, spread from lip to lip, with exclamations of pity and compassion. Further on, in the Rue Popincourt, a few children of the common people, in rags, took off their caps, in token of respect and sympathy, before this coffin, that contained a child who had died poorer than they themselves were to live.

The procession entered the cemetery of Sainte-Marguerite, not by the church, as some accounts assert, but by the old gate of the cemetery. The interment was made in the corner, on the left, at a distance of eight or nine feet from the enclosure wall, and at an equal distance from a small house, which subsequently served as a class-room for a Christian school. The grave was filled up—no mound marked its place—the soil was restored to its former level—and not even a trace remained of the interment! Not till then did the commissaries of police and the municipality withdraw. They departed by the same gate of the cemetery, and entered the house opposite the church, to draw up the declaration of interment. It was nearly nine o'clock, and still daylight. The air was clear, and the aureola of luminous vapour that crowned that lovely evening, seemed delaying and prolonging the farewell of the sun.

Two sentinels were posted, one in the cemetery, and one at the entrance-gate, to prevent any person from attempting to carry off the body of Louis XVII. This precaution was taken for two or three nights

Alcide de Beauchesne, Louis XVII: his life - his suffering - his death, translated by William Hazlitt (New York: 1853),  vol. 2: p.333-337.

Sunday, 23 February 2020

The death of Louis XVII - Shadow of a doubt?

This post  summarises the second half of Franck Ferrand's very thorough 2014 TV documentary on "the son of Marie-Antoinette" in the Ombre d'un doute series. I am not sure there really is much "doubt" about the fate of Louis XVII, but Franck makes the most of a good mystery - partly because the "survivantistes"  are so vociferous, partly, no doubt,  because it makes for better television.

The death of a King 

Louis-Charles, Louis XVII of France, died on 8th June 1795; he was ten years and two months old.  He had been in fragile health for some time, with tubercular knee joints which meant he could not stand.  The warders assigned to him after Thermidor,  Laurent, Gomin and Lasne, were well-meaning but could do little to alleviate his suffering. Witnesses said he was so traumatised that he had become completely mute.  The surgeon, Joseph Desault (1738-1795), who was appointed by the Convention to treat the young prince, admitted privately that he could no longer recognise the child that he had known before the Revolution.

Joseph Baume, Louis XVII in the Temple.  Painting of 1868.

By order of the Convention, a postmortem was carried out on the day following the death, 9th June 1795, amid rumours of substitutions and poisonings.  There were four doctors involved: Philippe-Jean Pelletan, chief surgeon of the Hôpital d'humanité,  Jean-Baptiste Dumangin, of the Hôpital de l'Unité  together with professors Pierre Lassus and Nicolas Jeanroy.  They did not make any formal identification. However they confirmed:  “We found in a bed the corpse of a child who seemed to us to be approximately ten years of age, that the commissaries said was the deceased Louis Capet, and whom two of us recognised as the child to whom they had administered treatments for several days.”  Death was attributed to an acute gastric complaint, combined with a “long-term scrofulous defect”, that is to say a form of non-pulmonary tuberculosis. In the course of his investigation Pelletan, acting on impulse, carried out the unauthorised removal of the child's heart.

Auguste-Jacques Régnier, The Cemetery of Ste-Marguerite in 1856.
 Musée Carnavalet
On 10th June  the corpse was buried in a communal grave in the parish cemetery of the church of Sainte-Marguerite in the rue Saint-Bernard. The gravedigger Bertrancourt later claimed that he had removed the body and reburied it in a location to the left of the door of a chapel in the North transept.

The emergence of a pretender 

In the years following Louis XVII's death, there were many rumours concerning his survival and many individuals came forward claiming to be the lost boy king.  Franck Ferrand's programme, however, concentrates exclusively on the German pretender Naundorff, whose descendants still pursue his claims today.

[lhr:03] On 29th  August 1831 a newspaper in Cahors, the Constitutionel, translated an article from the Leipziger Zeitung  which stated that the son of Marie-Antoinette and Louis XVI was alive and living in the town of Crossen in Saxony, under the name of Karl Wilhelm Naundorff.  On the face of it, Naundorff, a penniless Prussian clockmaker who scarcely spoke French,  was an unlikely candidate for the Bourbon throne, but he rapidly gained a considerable following, due to an strange combination of royalist wishful thinking and his own evident charisma.

The new Louis XVII was encouraged to make his way to Paris where he began to make contact with former members of the royal household. On 26th May 1833 he met with Madame de Rambaud, the 68 year-old former nurse to the royal children, who became totally convinced that he was genuine. He passed every test: presented with a precious relic, a little blue suit which had once belonged to Louis-Charles, he was able to recognise correctly that he had worn it only once, not at the Tuileries as Madame de Rambaud hinted, but in Versailles.

In Tours with Hughes de Bourbon

[1hr:06] The programme now travels to Tours to meet Hugues de Bourbon, Naundorff's modern descendant, a engaging man in his late thirties, who is an antiquarian book dealer.  Hugues presents a precious family document, an original deposition by a leading supporter, Jean-Baptiste-Jérôme Brémond, who had been  Louis XVI's personal secretary.  Brémond was impressed that Naundorff seemed to know the whereabouts of the"cachette" in the Tuileries - the famous armoire de fer - where the King had concealed his papers.  When the Louis had hidden it, only his son had been present.

Clearly Naundorff was capable of ostensibly remarkable acts of clairvoyance.  However, despite the support mobilised for his cause, the one person that really mattered, the Duchess of  Angoulême,  steadfastly refused to meet him.  Franck speculates on the reasons behind her resistance; but it seems, on the whole, that she was simply unconvinced by the evidence.   A letter in the Cahors archives  justifies her reservations:  it relates that Naundorff had sent certain of his partisans on a wild goose chase to Crossen  in search of documentary proofs; they  failed totally to find the promised papers despite having "torn the bureau apart".

More background on Naundorff

It seems that Naundorff had first claimed to be Louis XVII in 1825 when he had been imprisoned in Brandenburg for counterfeiting money.  He elaborated the story of his evasion in detail. On 3rd July 1793, the day of his separation from his mother, he had been removed from the Temple tower by Robespierre personally.[? I can't find where Naundorff says he was rescued by Robespierre]  He had then spent several years in Portugal pursuing his education and learning horology.  In 1807 he had been approached by Napoleon as potential heir but, with the birth of the King of Rome, this came to nothing and he settled permanently in Prussia.

[1hr:12] According to the writer and journalist Jean-Baptiste Rendu we know almost nothing about the real Naundorff, not even his age or where he came from.

Franck's team goes on location to the parish of Spandau in Berlin, where Naundorff lived. The local archivist shows us Naundorff's marriage certificate, dated 18th November 1818, which gives his profession as "watchmaker" and his age as forty-three.  The age is clearly a stumbling block:  Louis XVII would have been ten years younger, only thirty-three, in 1818.

Franck summarises: Naundorff was at first tolerated by the French government but in 1835 he committed the tactical error of instigating legal proceedings against the Duchess of Angoulême. The government of Louis-Philippe had him arrested and imprisoned. On 12th July 1835 he was expelled from France and moved to London, where he continued to embroider his story. Thanks to a  bizarre fascination with pyrotechnics, he contrived to patent a clockwork "Bourbon bomb";  sold it to the Dutch minister of war and was allowed to settle in Delft.  In 1845 Naundorff  became ill and suddenly died, as it happened on 10th August, the very anniversary of the fall of the Bourbon monarchy.

[1hr:15] In Delft we are shown Naundorff's death certificate: on it he appears as Charles-Louis de Bourbon, duc de Normandie, Louis XVII; it is also stated that he had been born in Versailles in 1785.  Permission to use the name Bourbon had been given to Naundorff by the King of Holland. It was even permitted for "Louis XVII" to be engraved on his tombstone.

The case for substitution

Records from the British Archives

[1hr:17] The balance of doubt would seem to be against Naundorff;  but now Franck springs his big surprise, some "incredible documents" from the British archives:

Olivier Blanc is on hand in the British Library to explain.

The records in question are from a British secret service dossier, and are dated 10th May and 21st  June 1794.  An informer relates that Robespierre intended to send the royal child to "a southern country" and use him to negotiate peace.  The second report claims that on night of 23rd/24th May Louis-Charles was actually removed and taken to Meudon; the affair was known only to members of the Committee of Public Safety.

This intriguing revelation is not really discussed, more left intriguingly hanging in the air.....

[In fact, however, these manuscripts are nothing new. They are among the so-called "Dropmore Papers", published in the 1950s.  Aulard long ago dismissed the account of the supposed evasion as a "bizarre invention".]

Witness testimonies 

[1hr:20] A "shadow of doubt" also still hangs over the identity of the prisoner in the Temple.

Following the replacement of Simon, all Louis-Charles's former custodians were removed.  A strict rota of commissaries of the Commune, chosen by lot, was put in place - seemingly designed to ensure that he could never be seen twice and recognised.

Naundorff's partisans are convinced that Louis-Charles was replaced by a handicapped child.  

The main spokesperson in this part of the programme is Michèle Dumont:

She observes that individuals who saw the boy after his isolation have left troubling accounts. On 19th December 1794 the deputy Jean-Baptiste Harmand de la Meuse reported that the child could not be Louis-Charles since he did not have the same hair colour and appeared to be deaf and dumb. Desault admitted that he did not recognise his former patient.  It was widely rumoured that the doctor was about to denounce the affair to the Convention when, on 1st June 1795, he himself conveniently died.  His colleague Chopart swiftly followed and a third doctor was so unnerved by talk of poisoning that he fled to the United States.

In the end, however, Franck has to admit that, although it makes for a good story,  the speculation about Desault is unfounded.  Desault's famous report was never found; and his postmortem concluded that, far from being poisoned, he had died of typhoid fever.

[Who is Michèle Dumont?  I find her introduced elsewhere as "author of the only university thesis on Louis XVII".  Clearly, her interpretation revives old conspiracy theories: apparently not only the doctors but also the men who carried the coffin to the cemetery died in mysterious circumstances, seven deaths in all, though the official account mentions only Desault and Chopart.]

The formal identification 

Again according Michèle Dumont, there are problems with this. The day after Louis-Charles's death the commissaries and guards of the Temple filed passed the body and confirmed that they recognised the child from the Tuileries. To Michèle Dumont, they seem to be parroting a set formula; why did the authorities not do the obvious thing, which was to let his sister Marie-Thérèse identify her brother's body?


With Philippe Delorme in the Cimetière Ste-Marguerite

Everything would be much simpler if we could only find the body!

[1hr:26] At this point we meet the writer and historian Philippe Delorme, the leading expert on Louis XVII and his fate.  Philippe is on location at the church of Ste-Marguerite, in the courtyard on the site of the old cemetery; in the 1795 there would have been four fosses communes in this area.

Philippe explains that a first exhumation of remains was carried out by the abbé Haumet in 1846. By the chapel door, where Bertrancourt had indicated, a curiously shaped coffin was uncovered,  made of metal sheets.  Inside was the skeleton of a child with red hair and a skull which had been sawed open in a postmortem.  Examination of the bones confirmed the presence of osseous tuberculosis. However, the doctors Milcent and Récamier were convinced the remains were those of an older child.  Milcent in his book La Question Louis XVII, concluded "The skeleton of the child, buried in the Cimetière Ste-Marguerite, cannot be attributed to a subject of less than fourteen years old. It cannot in consequence be that of the dauphin."  A further exhumation in 1894 confirmed the initial findings: the leading paleopathologists of the day now put the age of the individual as high as 18-20 years.

Exhumed coffin purporting to be that of Louis XVII. © Albert Harlingue/Roger-Viollet
The coffin was discovered in 1846; the photo shows it reconstructed in 1894.

1979 investigation

[1hr:29] So where was the body of Louis XVII?  In 1979 the Commission de Vieux Paris tried to advance the question by excavating in other parts of the cemetery. Dr Pierre-Léon Thillaud, paleopathologist with the Société Française d'Histoire de la Médicine, was sent three boxes of bone fragments to analyse. He explains that they represented  four or five different individuals, most of them adults, but, alas, no likely candidates for the child in the Temple.

Thus, as Franck insists, doubt remained; at this point there was still no material evidence that Louis XVII had died in the Temple.

DNA analysis

The remains of Naundorff

[1:30] The first genetic tests were undertaken at the end of the 1990s. In 1998 Professor Jean-Jacques Cassiman of the University of Louvain extracted genetic material from bones belonging to Naundorff  (who had been exhumed in 1950) and from hair samples belonging to Marie-Antoinette and her sisters.  Comparison of the two yielded the unequivocal result that Naundorff could not be a descendant of Marie-Antoinette.  However, the quality and authenticity of the Naundorff sample has been called into question, since his grave had been opened so long ago and the pieces of bone imperfectly stored.

Franck Ferrand's team go in search of Cassiman, now in retirement, at his home outside Louvain. The geneticist obligingly reiterates his findings: the discrepancies in the DNA sequences were too great for the individuals in question to possibly belong to the same family, "that is to say, Naundorff could not have been Louis XVII, that was quite clear". As to any mix-up or contamination, Cassiman shrugs in exasperation; that was "very improbable".

The Heart of the Child in the Temple

[1hr:32] Here at last is the climax that the programme has been building towards!

In 1975, after a long odyssey, the heart removed by Pelletan from the child in the Temple,  was traced by Philippe Delorme to a underground chapel in the crypt of Saint-Denis. In 1999 he asked Cassiman to compare DNA from the heart with that of Marie-Antoinette. In order to verify the results, two separate teams of geneticists were involved;  Cassiman's work was duplicated by a second lab in Munster.

The research presented a considerable technical challenge.  The first difficulty was to obtain a suitable sample from the heart which had been preserved in alcohol, then become desiccated and hard as stone. Cassiman then faced the delicate challenge of extracting exploitable DNA. However, on 19th April 2000, at a high-profile press conference, Cassiman's team was finally able to announce their findings to the world: the heart did indeed belong to an individual maternally related to Marie-Antoinette.  It would seem Louis XVII had finally been found.

New doubts

[1hr:35] Surely the DNA evidence is conclusive?  To most of the world it would seem so, but not to Naundorff's supporters.  In a clip we see one determined woman rise in protest at the press conference itself. Since the science seems watertight, opponents have concentrated on the identity of the heart. They suggest that it might not belong to Louis-Charles after all, but to his brother the dauphin Louis-Joseph, who died in 1789.

With Philippe Delorme at  Museum of the Préfecture de police

[1hr:36] Philippe reads the account from Pelletan's original report and retraces the story of the heart, which was stolen and returned, rescued from the debris by Pelletan's son during the 1830 revolution, and eventually found its way into the hands of the Spanish Bourbons; in 1975 it was given by the Princess Massimo to the Mémorial de France, the organisation which oversees the royal graves in Saint-Denis.

[1hr:40]  We now meet Laure de la Chapelle, president of the Cercle Louis XVII who has elaborated the view that the hearts of the child in the Temple had become swapped with that of Louis-Joseph, deposited in the church of the Val-de-Grâce. and lost during the Revolution.  Delorme holds that this heart would have been traditionally embalmed whereas the heart in our possession had been preserved in alcohol exactly as Pelletan had specified. Despite all the researches, however, the historical record can never be 100% watertight .

[1hr:41] We see footage of the splendid service held at Saint-Denis on 8th June 2004 in which the heart was  deposited in the royal vault. The ceremony was conspicuously presided over by the Bourbon heirs.

Latest Genetic Tests

[1hr: 42] The programme, first broadcast in 2014, ends back in Tours with Hugues de Bourbon.  Hugues explains that  his father was totally convinced by his ancestor Naundorff's claim. He himself has submitted to DNA tests which were based on the Y-chromosome rather than the mitochondrial DNA used by Cassiman . The geneticist Gerard Lucotte concluded that he belonged to same masculine line as the Bourbon kings; and are thus of the Bourbon family.   (Other geneticists point out that the same can be said for 70% of the French  population.) He is now working on establishing links to Marie-Antoinette.  It is a battle of experts, says Hugues to conclude, from which he hopes finally to learn the truth.


L'Ombre d'un doute: L'enfant de Marie-Antoinette est-il mort à la prison du Temple ?
First broadcast on 4th November 2014.
I found the programme in full on ""; but I think the Church is breaking copyright law.

See also:
Au cœur de l'Histoire: Louis XVII est-il mort au Temple? (Franck Ferrand).  Broadcast 21st January 2016 on Europe1.
On YouTube:

In 2016 FF revisited the child in the Temple for his radio series Au cœur de l'Histoire.  The radio show is less tightly produced than the TV documentary and is definitely more revealing.  Franck's guests were Philippe Delorme and the playwright  Jean-Louis Bachelet, both of whom had written new books on Louis XVII.  Franck explains that he hadn't invited any survivalists on this occasion as he wanted to avoid acrimonious controversy.  He wonders why the question of Louis XVII's death still arouses such passion?  DNA analysis exposed the impostors as long ago as 1998 and Philippe Delorme has declared the matter closed; yet not a month, even three weeks goes by without another book or paper. In a recent broadcast Franck had interviewed a French diplomat who traced his ancestry back to Louis XVII in Argentina.

The reason for the passion is clear enough: "There might be someone walking around somewhere in the world with a virtual crown on his head, a crown that is among the most prestigious of all time."

Jean-Louis Bachelet's book Saint-Royal reinvestigated the mystery.  He concludes that the individual exhumed in 1846, an adolescent of 18-20, could not be either Louis XVII or the hypothetical "child in the Temple".  If the Revolutionary authorities had wanted to make a substitution, they would have chosen a child closer to the correct age. The cemetery received bodies from surrounding hospitals, so it is likely that other skeletons show marks from an autopsy. 

Franck wonders if this conclusion is just giving ammunition to the survivalists? Bachelet comments that he is fascinated by the whole idea of "survivance" in the collective French imagination.  There were many pretenders;  Richemont was much better known at the time;  Naundorff is prominent today only because of his descendants.

Franck and his guests touch on the new genetic evidence concerning the Naundorff family. Gerard Lucotte does not inspire Delorme's confidence;  he is  "an extremely controversial geneticist", un peu farfelue;  he even claims to have determined the Y-chromosome of Christ.

Franck wonders, more generally, whether the use of DNA evidence might encourage distortion by giving too much initiative to scientists who have no historical training.  Even during the 1894  investigations, the "experts" were challenged: Gaston Labrousse argued that the 1894 findings favoured the Naundorffists and did not conform to the skeleton on view in the plates.  Philippe Delorme is less sceptical. There must be a strict methodology and clear demarcation between work of the geneticist and work of the historian;  genetics did not establish the identity of the heart of Louis XVII but it did enabled us to say that it belonged to a descendant of Marie-Antoinette.

Franck concludes by asking what elements of doubt remain:
Jean-Louis Bachelet observes that in fact the Convention took extreme care to verify their prisoner's identity.  In the final year,  extensive rota of commissaries of the Commune was in place - all bourgeois of Paris who could have seen LVII in the Tuileries.  If a substitution had happened, someone would surely have talked. A realistic look at the functioning of the Committees makes it difficult to imagine Robespierre personally entering the Temple and removing LVII.  Apart from anything else, he would have had to get through six locked doors.  At a certain point false rumours circulated;  Desault and Chopart, doctors at the Hôtel-Dieu, both died of natural causes in the cholera epidemic of 1795 which claimed over 3,000 lives.

Bachelet notes, very reasonably, that the stumbling block is mainly psychological - it is hard to accept that a member of the royal family could have died in such abject conditions. The controversy has touched both Royalist passions and Revolutionary hatreds.

Thursday, 20 February 2020

Louis-Charles: Portraits from the Temple

It is unlikely that there is any genuine portrait of Louis-Charles "from life" in the Temple prison. As Marguerite Jallut noted,  many artists later found it to their advantage to claim that that they had penetrated the Temple: "In reality no-one came, no-one was allowed to enter except the municipal commissioners, the administrators and those who accompanied them..."(p.261). The only securely documented exception is Kucharski, who is thought to have gained entry with visiting officials, in early 1793.  Shortly afterwards there was a tightening of security.  An order of the General Council of the Commune, dated 1st April 1793,  forbade all guards or "any others" from making drawings (no doubt in particular floorplans of the prison);  those caught in contravention of this order were to be subject to immediate arrest. Louis-Charles himself was increasingly isolated. On 3rd July 1793, he was removed from his mother and placed under the surveillance of Antoine Simon and his wife. After 16th October 1793 he was no longer allowed to exercise in the prison garden but confined to the tower.  Following Simon's removal in January 1794, he was almost literally walled up alive.  He was found by Barras on 10th Thermidor in a darkened room, surrounded by his own excrement. In the final year of his life, under the care of Laurent, Gomin, then Lasne, his treatment improved, but there were still no unauthorised visitors.  It is possible that the architect Bélanger, one of the commissaries of the Commune, made a brief sketch but, if so, this portrait has never been securely identified.

A portrait by Jean-Marie Vien le jeune

This striking portrait in the Carnavalet, by Jean-Marie Vien, is probably the  strongest candidate for an authentic image from life.  An inscription on the frame, clearly later in date, read(s): "Portrait of Louis XVII, painted in the Temple prison in 1793 on the order of the Convention by Vien (fils) 1735-1806". (Laurentie, Louis XVII, vol. 1, p.555).

Unfortunately there is no supporting evidence that any such commission was ever made.

Musée Carnavalet, 
Louis XVII in the Temple prison in 1793 
Joseph-Marie Vien, the younger (1760-1848)
Oil on canvas, 60cm x 48cm
Signed and dated "Vien fils, 1793"
Acquired by the Carnavalet in 1922, in a "public sale"

Laurentie situates the picture in the mid-1793:
It is without doubt at this date (Summer 1793) that one should place the famous portrait by Vien fils.  In truth, this portrait does not offer a very reliable likeness, but it can serves to bear witness.(Laurentie, Louis XVII, vol. 1, p.40).
From now on, the little boy, who was always threatened by lack of air and vulnerable to rickets, saw his limbs grow long and his chest congested.  At the time that he was taken from his mother (July 1793), Viens fils, the miniaturist, shows him well-dressed but already narrow-chested and stooping. (L'Iconographie, p 23)

There is little information about provenance, other than that the Carnavalet  acquired it in a "public sale" in 1922.  In 1910-11 the picture was temporarily in the possession of the journalist Henri Rochefort, who used it to try to discredit the pretender Naundorff: 
I have recently been brought a picture that I first saw almost a quarter of a century ago, when the proprietor asked a price which would have put off even the most ardent royalist.  It is a portrait of Louis XVII, painted in the Temple by order of the Committee of Public Safety, by Vien, signed and dated 1793.  
In Rochefort's view the picture contradicted the claim that Naundorff, with his supposed  "Bourbon nose", bore any resemblance to Louis XVII:
The portrait of the true Dauphin, executed in the Temple only two years before his death, shows an infant who is frail, bloodless, evidently anaemic.  His nose is not at all aquiline and does not resemble that of his father.  To judge by his complexion and hair-colour, he rather resembles the "Austrian type" of Marie-Antoinette.  The Committee of Public Safety, apprehensive about the health of the little prisoner, had exceptionally authorised the artist into the Temple, which was closed to all, in order to make a portrait and prove to the public that the child was still alive.

The sad little victim, aged almost eight-and-a-half...wears a tight grey costume.  His hair, blond to red, covers his forehead almost down to his eyebrows;  his pale lips and flickering eyes, reveal that the future inheritor of the throne is already touched by death....
Henri Rochefort, in La Patrie, 12 November 1910.

Laurentie doubted that there was ever a formal order for the painting from the Committees. In 1910 Rochefort had appealed for documentation, presumably without success:
Portrait of Louis XVII by Vien.
Can anyone provide information on the work containing the order by the Commune or the Committee of Public Safety, to the painter Vien fils to go to the Temple in 1793 and make a portrait of Louis XVII?  
Rochefort in L'Intermédiaire des chercheurs & curieux, 1910 (p.787).

Portraits which show Louis-Charles after July 1793(?)

Laurentie followed his discussion of the Vien canvas with notes on several pictures which purport to show Louis-Charles at a later point in his incarceration. He even attempted to establish a narrative sequence which illustrated the child's progressive deterioration in health. It  seems pretty unlikely that any of these portraits are in fact genuine or, at least, dated correctly.

Sketch "by David"

As the section on the Musée Louis XVII shows, there are a number of highly disparate images attributed to David.

It is know that the artist  was present on 8th October 1793 during the second day of Louis-Charles's interrogation before the trial of Marie-Antoinette. However, there is no evidence that he  made a portrait at this session, let alone that one can be securely identified.

The most interesting of the "David" pictures is this one, which belonged to Alcide Beauchesne.  [Laurentie, Louis XVII, plate 116].  It is one of several portraits which shows Louis-Charles with light coloured short hair.

Le peintre David, Musée Louis XVII
See also the comments of Laure de la Chapelle, Carnets Louis XVII, 2006. p.9

Anonymous pastel which shows Louis-Charles "ill and perhaps the worst for alcohol" 
Laurentie, Louis XVII, Plate .108. L'Iconographie, p.23: 
(44cm x 30cm). 
Blue eyes, reddish blond hair; brown jacket with blue buttons, white cuffs and colour.  Summer 1793(?)
The work belonged to Georges de Manteyer.

For Laurentie, Louis-Charles is particularly identified by his unusually shaped ear. Again he has a small, rounded head and short hair.

There is actually quite a lot of information available about Louis-Charles's hair in the Temple.  Until January 1793 his personal grooming was in the care of the King's personal valet Cléry. Madame Simon is subsequently recorded as having cut his hair.  From September 1794 to January 1795 a perruquier called Danjout came to the Temple to administer to the child.  This seems the most likely period when Louis-Charles would be remembered as having neat short hair.

Drawing in charcoal by "LAVIT, soldier of the National Guard"  
Louis XVII, Plate no.112.
The picture belonged to the comtesse de Reiset.
According to Laurentie, the sketch shows Louis-Charles "drowning in grease and dirt" (Iconographie, p.23)

The artist is usually identified as Jean-Baptiste-Omer Lavit, (1771-1836), a pupil of David and later Professor of Perspective at the École des Beaux-Arts. 

This drawing still exists today in a private collection.  Laure de la Chapelle, of the Cercle Louis XVII, solicited an expert opinion.  The paper was found to be genuinely late 18th-century, though the verse shown in Laurentie's reproduction is a 19th-century addition. Speculatively (very!), the length of hair and absence of a fringe suggests a date when Louis-Charles was in the care of his mother after the departure of Cléry in January 1793.  

Before October 1793  child could theoretically have been glimpsed walking in the garden of the Temple by one of the guards;  however,there is no record of a "Lavit" among their number.

Sepia by Moriès
Louis XVII, Plate 118.
(25cm x 20cm)
The inscription reads "Portrait of Louis XVII, done in prison by Moriès, pupil of David."
This drawing too belonged to Georges de Manteyer.
Not a lot is known about Moriès (? possibly not even his full name)   He was a pupil of David in 1793/94 and died in Saint-Germain-en-Laye in 1812.  According to Delécluze, "This likeable and excellent man has not left a single work to consecrate his memory".
There is nothing about this picture which really suggests it could be authentic - Laurentie, however, saw in it the Louis-Charles of 1794:  "A sepia by Moriez...shows the child of nine that Barras refound on 10 Thermidor....We see a hunted beast.  Louis XVII is bent, fleshless, with burning cheeks, great sunken eyes, wild, frightened, his hair stuck down with dirt and sores."(Iconographie p.25).  

The Portrait by Bellanger

The architect François-Joseph Bélanger (Bellanger) claimed to have met and sketched the child shortly before his death, on 31st May 1795. This picture can no longer be traced.  Bélanger's account, given long after the event, has not generally been considered reliable:

Simien-Despréaux an author of the Restoration, wrote down the so-called Bellanger declaration, and read it to the man.  But the latter did not sign it;  this happened in October 1817 when Bellanger was 73.  Although he was undoubtedly there, and attended the Dauphin's meal, his account is inaccurate in a number of respects.  Whereas the majority of witnesses referred to the prisoner as silent during the months that preceded his death, Bellanger recounts that the boy was the first to speak and greeted him as a visitor. To Simien-Despréaux who wrote his statement, he claimed to have recognised him well.  He declared that his "habits at Versailles" had given him many occasions to see him frequently.  The "sound of his voice....his beautiful eyes and the blond colour of his hair" were indeed those of the little boy that he had "often seen a few years before his imprisonment".
Henri G. Francq, The unsolved mystery: Louis XVII, Leyden, Brill 1970, p.80

Interestingly the pretender Eleazar Williams later echoed the story, claiming that he had been taken to America by an unknown priest and a "Jacobin" painter called "Bélenger".  He recounted that Bélenger had sketched him in the Temple and also knew about the bust by Beaumont based on the portrait.  See Taws, "The dauphin and his doubles", p.26.

Portraits by Greuze?

Like David, Greuze is a catch-all attribution; see the collection of images on the Musée Louis XVII site:

Laurentie's considered that this portrait, which was in his own collection, represented the final depiction of Louis-Charles.  It had apparently belonged to Madame de Tourzel. 
Louis XVII, Plate 128, Iconographie, p.25

It is difficult to believe that this image, showing Louis-Charles with side parting and braces, can possibly be accurate; it looks German. 

Here is another, more recent candidate, for a late portrait by Greuze:

This striking picture, hitherto uncatalogued, was auctioned in Paris on 11th October 1981. The sale notice reads:

Presumed portrait of the dauphin Louis XVII, attributed to Greuze.  An inscription glued to the back is clearly legible and gives the following details: "Portrait of the dauphin Louis XVII at the age of ten years old".  Oil on canvas, attributed to Greuze, not signed; with the arms of the royal family of France at the top and on the right.  Provenance: sale by Sotheby's at Mentmore Towers  (Buckinghamshire) in 1977 of the collection of Lord Rosberry; previously sold by the baron Mayer de Rothschild.[catalogue entitled"Chrysanthemum"] Labels on the back of the picture read "Tennant Heirlooms 1907"and "1945", whilst  a third gives the address of Sotheby's in New Bond Street.

Émile Mouray,"Louis xvii, le portrait oublié",  AgoraVox, article of 03.04.2007.

It must be said that this is a beautiful and disconcerting image but, once again, sadly there is no real means of verifying the authorship or date.


Musée Louis XVII Michel Jaboulay

 Laurentie,  L'iconographie de Louis XVII... (1913)

"Les portraits de Louis XVII, prisonnier au Temple", Forum de Marie-Antoinette

On later iconography:
 "Heurs et maleurs de Louis XVII, arrêt  sur images", exhibition at the Musée de la Révolution francaise, Vizille, 29 June-1st October 2018.

Richard Taws, "The Dauphin and his doubles: visualizing royal imposture after the French Revolution", The Art Bulletin, March 2016, vol.98(1), p.72-100 [on JStor]
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