§706 The great Satyr and the Iranian Tiger (1873.5.24-11.20): III-90.

III-90 (§706):

The great Satyr and the Tiger of Hyrcania,
The gift offered to those of the Ocean:
The chief of the army shall come out of Carmania
Who shall reach the shore of the Tyrant of Marseilles.

(Le grand Satyre & Tigre de Hyrcanie,
Don presente à ceux de l'Ocean:
Le chef de classe istra de Carmanie
Qui prendra terre au Tyrren Phocean.)

NOTES: Vignois (1910, p.343), developing the theme of Torné-Chavigny (1870, p.20-21; 1876a, pp.64, 74-75), arrived at a general solution of the difficult quatrain: « When the descendant of the kings of France, who had been called the child of miracle and was invested with the title of the duke of Bordeaux, was expected as a liberator, the Marshal of Mac-Mahon, son of the Duchess of Caraman, was elected President of the Republic and attained the supreme magistracy of the State.».

Satyr: Its most original metaphorical meaning is as follows: « Σἀτυρος, Satyr, first in Hes. (γἐνος οὐτιδανῶν Σατύρων καἰ ἀμηχανοεργῶν [the race of worthless and helpless Satyrs] Fr.198.2).» (Liddell & Scott)

The great Satyr: = The Count of Chambord (= the Duke of Bordeaux) (Henri-Charles-Ferdinand-Marie-Dieudonné d'Artois, comte de, 1820-1883) who missed the final chance of the Restoration of his family by denying the Tricolor, which Mac-Mahon strongly recommended in keeping to his military career, in favor of his traditional white flag (cf. Seignobos, 1921b, p.372-375), this psychological genuineness of Chambord testifying to his political inability. So, he was called a Satyr within the grand sphere of national politics, the unique appellation whose usage being once for all in the Prophecies of Nostradamus. The severe opinion of the Prophet seems to agree with that of one of the most eminent French statesmen Adolphe Thiers who commented about Chambord as “ a gently but intrepidly obstinate child or simpleton (un enfant ou un sot doucement mais intrépidement obstiné) .” (Seignobos, 1921b, p.319)

Hyrcania: “ Hyrcania is a province of Persia as well as Carmania.” (Torné-Chavigny, 1870, p.21). « Ὑρκανία, Hyrcania, a district between Parthia, Media and the Caspian Sea.» (Pillon). « Καρμανία, Carmania, a province of Persia.» (Pillon).

The Tiger of Hyrcania: A metaphor through its fierceness and majesty in the lonely Persian mountains for a prominent French Field Marshal, Patrice Macmahon (1808-1893), whose mother the Duchess of Caraman recalling the name of Carmania to us (Torné-Chavigny, id.). « The Marshal is descended, by his mother, from the Dukes of Caraman… Carmanum, Carmaing [Caraman], a city of France (Haute-Garonne) is the cradle of the family of Caraman.» (Torné-Chavigny, 1862, p.116) [The chief of the army shall come out of Carmania]. Moreover, the word “ tiger ” (tigris in Latin and Greek) has an Iranian (= Persian) origin (cf. Petit Robert).

The Ocean: = The Gironde, the Ocean having the two meanings of the sea and of the grand river (Oceanus), which fit the Gironde.

Those of the Ocean: = Those of Bordeaux, the representative city on the Gironde = the National Assembly first convoked in Bordeaux in February 1871.

The gift offered to those of the Ocean: Henry V (the count of Chambord), chief of the House of the Bourbons surnamed Dieudonné (gift of God) to be called to the throne by the act of October 14th 1873 of the National Assembly solicited by its royalist majority facing toward the traditional monarchy incorporated in the personality of Henry V (cf. Seignobos, 1921b, p.370-371).

The gift: = Duke of Bordeaux ­= Count of Chambord = Henri Charles Ferdinand Dieudonné (Heaven-sent) de France: « THE CHILD OF THE MIRACLE. In the year 1816 Louis XVIII, King of France and Navarre, for the second time restored, after an exile of more than five-and-twenty years, to the throne of his ancestors, began to be somewhat disquieted in his mind as to the perpetuation of the Bourbon line. He himself was old, infirm, and childless; but his brother and designated successor, the Comte d'Artois, had two sons. The first was the Duc d'Angoulême, a sickly, silent, morose man, married to a princess, not indeed morose, but as silent and more sorrowful than her lord— Marie Thérèse de France, indeed, the daughter of Louis XVI., the “ Orphan of the Temple.” Her childhood had been passed in the stately Palace of Versailles; her girlhood in the horrible gaol of the Temple — released from which, she had wandered about for years in a restless, memory-haunted banishment; coming back to France in 1814, a bride, it is true, but an utterly crushed and disconsolate woman. Her father and mother had been torn from her arms to be dragged to the scaffold; her brother, the Dauphin, had been beaten and starved to death almost beneath her eyes; she had wanted food, raiment, light even, in her foul dungeon; and, when prosperity came, it was too late, for the heart of Marie Thérèse de France was dead within her. So the Duc and Duchess d'Angoulême were solemn couple, and, in 1816, were childless. The second son of the Comte d'Artois was Charles Ferdinand, Duc de Berri. Those who knew this youthful Prince were wont to say that his worth lay more in his heart than in his appearance; since he was stunted in stature, broad-shouldered, beetle-browed, shaggy-haired, with a nez camus, thick lips, and " something of a wild and ferocious expression." It would seem, however, that the Duc de Berri was very much belied, and that he was, in reality, not at all a bad sort of Prince. He was, those who knew, loved, and understood him, declared, “ constant in love, firm in friendship, eager for action, and ambitious for glory.” Thus, though two kinsmen, his father and his elder brother, stood between him and the throne, the Duc de Berri was not only the possible and probable, but the humanly certain Dauphin of a very few years to come... Lastly, there was the brooding, umbrageous Angoulême, who, it was certain, cared very little about becoming Dauphin, and less about being Louis XIX. Charles Ferdinand, Duc de Berri, was thus the hope of the Bourbon race. There was, to be sure, a branche cadette, a junior stem. There was a Duc d' Orleans, Louis Philippe by name, descended from a younger son of Louis XIII., married to a Sicilian Princess, and already beginning to abound in children; but the Orleans connection were barely tolerated at Court, and were secretly abhorred by the restored Bourbons. The King could not forget that the Duke's father, Egalité, had voted for the death of Louis XVI.; far less could the Duchess d'Angoulême forgive the man who was the son of one of her father's murderers. Old Louis Dixhuit, then, discreetly married him, in the year '16, to Marie Caroline Ferdinande Louise de Bourbon, daughter of the Prince Royal of the Two Sicilies. This Marie Caroline was a delightfully pretty, vivacious, petulant, spoilt girl, who had been brought up to tell her beads, to eat sweetmeats, to play with a doll, and absolutely to do nothing else. She brought some of her poupées with her to Paris; and was wont to divert herself therewith in the intervals of Court receptions; until there came to her another doll to dandle, of real flesh and blood, and with eyes that moved without any string-pulling. In negotiating this alliance the crafty old king is said to have had in view the consolidation of the House of Bourbon upon the three thrones it then occupied in Italy, in Spain, and in France. The union of Charles Ferdinand and Marie Caroline promised at first to be a very happy one. Two daughters were born to them, but by the year 1819 one of these infants had died. Still, the Duke and Duchess were very young; and the chances of the detested Orleans connection ever dropping into the line of succession seemed too preposterous to think about. You see that it is not given to mankind to peruse the proof-sheets of the decrees of Fate. How one would " operate" on the Stock Exchange, if such a perusal were possible, to be sure ! » (Sala, 1873, p.21-30).

« There happened to be in Paris in 1820 a man named Louvel. Louvel was a petty mechanic, and came from Versailles, where his father dealt in old clothes. Thirty-two years of age, a little weazened, wan, bilious man, with something the matter with his lungs — this Louvel, journeyman saddler or harness-maker, or something of that kind, I apprehend, had gotten some absurd nonsense into his head. It occurred to Louvel — as it has occurred to many before and after that rascal — that the times were out of joint, and that he was born to set them right. The natural sequence to this, in his muddled mind, was that the Bourbons were wholly and solely responsible for the disjointed condition of things; and that if he could only contrive to cut the throat of a Bourbon Prince — say of the Duc de Berri — peace and prosperity would thenceforth reign; liberty, equality, and fraternity would flourish. With a dagger in his pocket, he began to lurk at night about the doors of theatres which he thought the Duc de Berri would visit. He followed him even to the churches; but, throughout the many months during which this frightful quest continued, he failed to grasp his prey. At length, on the 13th February, 1820, it being then High Carnival in Paris, it was announced that the Duc and Duchess de Berri would honour with their presence the Académie Royal de Musique, which was then situated in the Rue de Richelieu, over against the Bibliothèque Royale. While they were enjoying the prospects of the evening's entertainment — nay, while they were in the act of dressing for the opera ball, Louvel, his knife in his bosom, was watching at the Palace of the Elysée, in the Rue du Faubourg St. Honoré, where the Royal couple dwelt. Thence, about seven, he skulked away to the Opera House. It was Sunday — le Dimanche Gras — the first of the three "fat" days, which crown and close the Carnival. At eight o'clock Louvel was at the Royal entrance to the theatre: when the clattering of horses' hoofs, and the glare of the torches borne by the dragons éclaireurs announced the coming of the Duke and Duchess... Mortally wounded, Charles Ferdinand d'Artois, Duc de Berri, lingered for some hours in one of the antechambers of the Opera House. He was sensible, however, to the last, and, as has often been the case with princes in his condition, earnestly besought that no harm might be done to his murderer. His surviving daughter, just a year old, was brought to him. He stretched out his trembling arms to her, murmuring, “ Poor child, may you be less unhappy than the rest of your family ! ” He little knew how many more misfortunes were in store for his fated race. His father, his brother Angoulême, his cousins of Orleans and of Bourbon-Conde, stood round his couch; and it was in the arms of his wife — no longer a petulant, vivacious, spoilt child, but a woman destined to be a Heroine — that he died. ''Caroline," he whispered, “ take care of yourself, for the sake of the child that you bear." This was the first revelation of the birth of an heir to his name. A little before the Duke’s death the poor old King arrived. Extreme unction had been administered by the Bishop of Chartres; and then the Curtain fell, and the most tragic of all the dramas that had ever been played within the walls of that garish theatre came to an end. Seven months and sixteen days after the murder of Charles Ferdinand, Duc de Berri, at the Opera House — which, shortly after his death, was demolished to its last stone, with a view to the erection of an expiatory chapel on its site; (the Place Louvois is yet bare, and the Third Restoration may yet build the chapel of expiation) — the widowed Marie Caroline gave birth, at the Palace of the Tuileries, to a man child. This was Henri Charles Ferdinand Dieudonné de France, born on the 29th of September, 1820. It is as well to be particular concerning the date of his birth, as it is one which, in combination with that of his father's death, those evilly disposed to the Elder Branche never failed malevolently to recite. The pious Legitimists, on their part, were more pleased to remember that the "Heaven-sent" Prince first saw the light on St. Michael's Day. That Archangel was famous for stamping out the lives of infernal dragons — Rafaelle and Correggio have shown us how; — and all good French Catholics saw, in 1820, in the birth of the young Prince on the feast of St. Michael, a special sign of protection from Heaven against the dreadful plots of the Revolutionists. Revolutionary conspiracies were annoyingly prevalent in 1820. There had been, also, some very ill-natured rumours current just before the little Prince's appearance. To confound the calumniators, it was determined, in the case of the Duchesse de Berri, that to her accouchement should be given “ an authentic publicity, in conformity with the ancient usages of the Monarchy;” and Marshal Suchet, “ with several officers of the guard of the Tuileries, were present at the birth, as irrefragable witnesses of the maternity of the Duchess.” Royalty, you see, has its responsibilities as well as its rights. At least we of the middle classes are entitled to be born without the surveillance of an officer of the Grenadier Guards and an Inspector of Police.» (Sala, 1873, p.30-43).

Tyrren: = Tyran (Tyrant = Chief of the State) by homophony.

Phocean: = Of Marseilles, 7 usages in all of the words Phocen,  Phocean,  Phossen in the Prophecies of Nostradamus designating Marseilles because of its having been a colony of the Phoenicians (cf. Torné-Chavigny, 1862, p.112).

The Tyrant of Marseilles: The Chief of the State of France, Marseilles representing France by synecdoche.

Who shall reach the shore of the Tyrant of Marseilles: « The national assembly, divided into parties which were bitterly opposed to each other, developed a very meagre legislative activity. On one side stood the three monarchistic parties of the legitimists, the Orleanists, and the Bourbons, each of which had its pretender to the throne; on the other the republicans, who were divided into a moderate and an extreme Left. Between them stood a group of parliamentarians, who could be satisfied with either form of government, if only the constitutional system were preserved. It is true that the monarchists held the majority, but in the course of the next few years they lost considerable ground through the supplementary elections, and they were so disunited among themselves that in the most important questions frequently a fraction of the Right voted with the Left, and the majority thus became a minority. The " fusion," i.e. the union of the legitimists and Orleanists into one single party, did not succeed. Thiers preferred the actual republic to any one of the three possible monarchies, and for that very reason the monarchists were very much dissatisfied with him. When, at the re-formation of the ministry on May 18th, 1873, he wholly disregarded the monarchistic majority and recruited his cabinet entirely from the moderate Left, the monarchists moved a vote of censure upon Thiers. This was carried on May 24th, 1873, by a vote of 360 against 344. Thiers and his ministry resigned; whereupon, in the same sitting, MacMahon was elected president of the republic. The duke de Broglie held the place of vice-president under him.» (HH, XIII, p.187-188).

« The majority elected to the presidency the Marshal of Mac-Mahon, and then tried to accomplish the fusion of the two branches of the royal family, in order to call the Count of Chambord to the throne. The chief of the younger branch, the Count of Paris, visited the residence of the Count of Chambord, and declared to this Prince that neither he himself nor his family shall be any obstacle to the restoration of the elder branch. This restoration therefore seemed done, and it seemed that France, tired and bewildered, might not come out of her silence. Nevertheless, when they learned that the Count of Chambord had refused to abandon the white flag, emblem of the ancient regime, all aborted and the project was abandoned. (M. Faustin-Ad. Hélie. – Constitutions de la France.)» (Muel, 1895, p.368).
© Koji Nihei Daijyo, 2014. All rights reserved.



Koji Nihei Daijyo

Author:Koji Nihei Daijyo
We have covered 143 quatrains (§588-§730) concerning the World Events in the 19th century after Napoleonic ages [1821-1900] in the Prophecies of Nostradamus, and 218 in the 20th [1901-2000] (§731-§948).

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