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diff --git a/old/54788-0.txt b/old/54788-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2b49cde..0000000 --- a/old/54788-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16885 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Memoirs of François René Vicomte de -Chateaubriand sometime Ambassador to England, by François René Chateaubriand -and Alexander Teixeira de Mattos - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Memoirs of François René Vicomte de Chateaubriand sometime Ambassador to England. v 2/6 - Being a Translation by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos of the - Mémoires d'outre-tombe - -Author: François René Chateaubriand - Alexander Teixeira de Mattos - -Release Date: May 26, 2017 [EBook #54788] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MEMOIRS; V 2/6 *** - - - - -Produced by Laura Natal Rodriguez & Marc D'Hooghe at Free -Literature (online soon in an extended version, also linking -to free sources for education worldwide ... MOOC's, -educational materials,...) Images generously made available -by the Hathi Trust. - - - - - -THE MEMOIRS OF FRANÇOIS RENÉ - -VICOMTE DE CHATEAUBRIAND - -SOMETIME AMBASSADOR TO ENGLAND - -BEING A TRANSLATION BY ALEXANDER TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS -OF THE MÉMOIRES D'OUTRE-TOMBE WITH ILLUSTRATIONS -FROM CONTEMPORARY SOURCES. In 6 Volumes. Vol. II - - "NOTRE SANG A TEINT - LA BANNIÈRE DE FRANCE" - -LONDON: PUBLISHED BY FREEMANTLE -AND CO. AT 217 PICCADILLY MDCCCCII - - -[Illustration: Napoléon Bonaparte.] - - - - -CONTENTS - - -VOLUME II - -BOOK VII - -I go to see my mother--Saint-Malo--Progress of the Revolution ---My marriage--Paris--Old acquaintances and new--The Abbé -Barthélemy--Saint-Ange--The theatres--Changes in Paris--The -Club des Cordeliers--Marat--Danton--Camille Desmoulins--Fabre -d'Églantine--M. de Malesherbes' opinion on the emigration--I play -and lose--Adventure of the hackney-coach--Madame Roland--Barère at -the Hermitage--Second Federation of the 14th of July--Preparations -for the emigration--I emigrate with my brother--Adventure of -Saint-Louis--We cross the frontier--Brussels--Dinner at the Baron -de Breteuil's--Rivarol--Departure for the army of the Princes--The -journey--I meet the Prussian army--I arrive at Trèves--The Army of the -Princes--A Roman amphitheatre--_Atala_--The shirts of Henry IV.--A -soldier's life--Last appearance of old military France--Commencement -of the siege of Thionville--The Chevalier de La Baronnais--Continuation -of the siege--A contrast--Saints in the woods--Battle of Bouvines--A -patrol--An unexpected encounter--Effects of a cannon-ball and a -shell--Market in camp--Night amid piled arms--The Dutch dog--A -recollection of the _Martyrs_--The nature of my company--With the -outposts--Eudora--Ulysses--Passage of the Moselle--A fight--Libba, the -deaf and dumb girl--Assault of Thionville--The siege is raised--We -enter Verdun--The Prussian evil--The retreat--Smallpox--The -Ardennes--The Prince de Ligne's baggage-wagons--The women of Namur--I -meet my brother at Brussels--Our last farewell--Ostend--I take -passage for Jersey--I land at Guernsey--The pilot's wife--Jersey--My -uncle de Bedée and his family--Description of the island--The Duc de -Berry--Lost friends and relations--The misfortune of growing old--I go -to England--Last meeting with Gesril - -BOOK VIII - -The Literary Fund--My garret in Holborn--Decline in health--Visit -to the doctors--Emigrants in London--Peltier--Literary labours--My -friendship with Hingant--Our excursions--A night in Westminster -Abbey--Distress--Unexpected succour--Lodging overlooking a -cemetery--New companions in misfortune--Our pleasures--My cousin -de La Boüétardais--A sumptuous rout--I come to the end of my forty -crowns--Renewed distress--Table d'hôte--Bishops-Dinner at the London -Tavern--The Camden Manuscripts--My work in the country--Death of -my brother--Misfortunes of my family--Two Frances--Letters from -Hingant--Charlotte--I return to London--An extraordinary meeting--A -defect in my character--The _Essai historique sur les révolutions_--Its -effect--Letter from Lemierre, nephew to the poet--Fontanes--Cléry - - -BOOK IX - -Death of my mother--I return to religion--The _Génie du -Christianisme_--Letter from the Chevalier de Panat--My uncle, M. de -Bedée: his eldest daughter--English literature--Decline of the old -school--Historians--Poets--Publicists--Shakespeare--Old novels--New -novels--Richardson--Sir Walter Scott--New poetry--Beattie--Lord -Byron--England from Richmond to Greenwich--A trip with -Peltier--Blenheim--Stowe--Hampton Court--Oxford--Eton College--Private -manners--Political manners--Fox--Pitt--Burke--George III.--Return -of the emigrants to France--The Prussian Minister gives me a false -passport in the name of La Sagne, a resident of Neuchâtel in -Switzerland--Death of Lord Londonderry--End of my career as a soldier -and traveller--I land at Calais - - -PART THE SECOND - -1800-1814 - -BOOK I - -My stay at Dieppe--Two phases of society--The position of my -Memoirs--The year 1800--Aspect of France--I arrive in Paris--Changes in -society--The year 1801--The _Mercure_--_Atala_--Madame de Beaumont and -her circle--Summer at Savigny--The year 1802--Talma--The year 1803--The -_Génie du Christianisme_--Failure prophesied--Cause of its final -success--Defects in the work - -BOOK II - -The years 1802 and 1803--Country-houses--Madame de Custine--M. de -Saint-Martin--Madame de Houdetot and Saint-Lambert--Journey to -the south of France--M. de la Harpe--His death--Interview with -Bonaparte--I am appointed First Secretary of Embassy in Rome--Journey -from Paris to the Savoy Alps--From Mont Cenis to Rome--Milan to -Rome--Cardinal Fesch's palace--My occupations--Madame de Beaumont's -manuscripts--Letters from Madame de Caud--Madame de Beaumont's arrival -in Rome--Letters from my sister--Letter from Madame de Krüdener--Death -of Madame de Beaumont--Her funeral--Letters from M. de Chênedollé, -M. de Fontanes, M. Necker, and Madame de Staël--The years 1803 and -1804--First idea of my Memoirs--I am appointed French Minister to the -Valais--Departure from Rome--The year 1804--The Valais Republic--A -visit to the Tuileries--The Hôtel de Montmorin--I hear the death cried -of the Duc d'Enghien--I give in my resignation - -BOOK III - -Death of the Duc d'Enghien--The year 1804--General Hulin--The Duc de -Rovigo--M. de Talleyrand--Part played by each--Bonaparte, his sophistry -and remorse--Conclusions to be drawn from the whole story--Enmities -engendered by the death of the Duc D'Enghien--An article in the -_Mercure_--Change in the life of Bonaparte - -BOOK IV - -The year 1804--I move to the Rue de Miromesnil-Verneuil--Alexis de -Tocqueville--Le Ménil--Mézy--Mérévil--Madame de Coislin--Journey to -Vichy, in Auvergne, and to Mont Blanc--Return to Lyons--Excursion -to the Grande Chartreuse--Death of Madame de Caud--The years 1805 -and 1806--I return to Paris--I leave for the Levant--I embark in -Constantinople on a ship carrying pilgrims for Syria--From Tunis to -my return to France through Spain--Reflections on my voyage--Death of -Julien - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - -VOL. II - - Portrait of - - Napoleon Bonaparte - The Comte de Rivarol - Frederic William II - Peltier, editor of the _Actes des Apôtres_ - William Pitt - Edmund Burke - George III - The Duc D'Enghien - - - - -THE MEMOIRS OF CHATEAUBRIAND - - -VOLUME II - - -BOOK VII[1] - - -I go to see my mother--Saint-Malo--Progress of the Revolution--My -marriage--Paris--Old acquaintances and new--The Abbé -Barthélemy--Saint-Ange--The theatres--Changes in Paris--The -Club des Cordeliers--Marat--Danton--Camille Desmoulins--Fabre -d'Églantine--M. de Malesherbes' opinion on the emigration--I play -and lose--Adventure of the hackney-coach--Madame Roland--Barère at -the Hermitage--Second Federation of the 14th of July--Preparations -for the emigration--I emigrate with my brother--Adventure of -Saint-Louis--We cross the frontier--Brussels--Dinner at the Baron -de Breteuil's--Rivarol--Departure for the army of the Princes--The -journey--I meet the Prussian army--I arrive at Trèves--The Army of the -Princes--A Roman amphitheatre--_Atala_--The shirts of Henry IV.--A -soldier's life--Last appearance of old military France--Commencement of -the siege of Thionville--The Chevalier de La Baronnais--Continuation -of the siege--A contrast--Saints in the woods--Battle of Bouvines--A -patrol--An unexpected encounter--Effects of a cannon-ball and a -shell--Market in camp--Night amid piled arms--The Dutch dog--A -recollection of the _Martyrs_--The nature of my company--With the -outposts--Eudora--Ulysses--Passage of the Moselle--A fight--Libba, the -deaf and dumb girl--Assault of Thionville--The siege is raised--We -enter Verdun--The Prussian evil--The retreat--Smallpox--The -Ardennes--The Prince de Ligne's baggage-wagons--The women of Namur--I -meet my brother at Brussels--Our last farewell--Ostend--I take -passage for Jersey--I land at Guernsey--The pilot's wife--Jersey--My -uncle de Bedée and his family--Description of the island--The Duc de -Berry--Lost friends and relations--The misfortune of growing old--I go -to England--Last meeting with Gesril. - - -I wrote to my brother in Paris giving him particulars of my crossing, -telling him the reasons for my return, and asking him to lend me the -money wherewith to pay my passage. My brother answered that he had -forwarded my letter to my mother. Madame de Chateaubriand did not keep -me waiting: she enabled me to clear my debt and to leave the Havre. -She told me that Lucile was with her, also my uncle de Bedée and his -family. This intelligence persuaded me to go to Saint-Malo, so that I -might consult my uncle on the question of my proposed emigration. - -Revolutions are like rivers: they grow wider in their course; I found -that which I had left in France enormously swollen and overflowing its -banks: I had left it with Mirabeau under the "Constituent," I found it -with Danton[2] under the "Legislative[3]" Assembly. - -The Treaty of Pilnitz, of the 27th of August 1791, had become known in -Paris. On the 14th of December 1791, while I was being tossed by the -storms, the King announced that he had written to the Princes of the -Germanic Body, and in particular to the Elector of Trèves, touching -the German armaments. The brothers of Louis XVI., the Prince de Condé, -M. de Calonne, the Vicomte de Mirabeau, and M. de Laqueville[4] were -almost immediately impeached. As early as the 9th of November, a -previous decree had been hurled against the other Emigrants: it was to -enter these ranks, already proscribed, that I was hastening; others -might perhaps have retreated, but the threats of the stronger have -always made me take the side of the weaker: the pride of victory is -unendurable to me. - -On my way from the Havre to Saint-Malo I was able to observe the -divisions and misfortunes of France: the country-seats were burnt -and abandoned; the owners, to whom distaffs had been sent, had left; -the women were living sheltered in the towns. The hamlets and small -market-towns groaned under the tyranny of clubs affiliated to the -central Club des Cordeliers, since amalgamated with the Jacobins. The -antagonist of the latter, the Société Monarchique, or des Feuillants, -no longer existed; the vulgar nickname of _sans-culotte_ had become -popular; the King was never spoken of save as "Monsieur Veto" or -"Monsieur Capet." - -[Sidenote: My marriage.] - -I was tenderly welcomed by my mother and my family, although they -deplored the inopportune moment which I had selected for my return. -My uncle, the Comte de Bedée, was preparing to go to Jersey with his -wife, his son, and his daughters. It was a question of finding money to -enable me to join the Princes. My American journey had made a breach -in my fortune; my property was reduced to almost nothing, where my -younger son's portion was concerned, through the suppression of the -feudal rights; and the benefices that were to accrue to me by virtue of -my affiliation to the Order of Malta had fallen, with the remainder of -the goods of the clergy, into the hands of the nation. This conjuncture -of circumstances decided the most serious step in my life: my family -married me in order to procure me the means of going to get killed in -support of a cause which I did not love. - -There was living in retirement, at Saint-Malo, M. de Lavigne[5], a -knight of Saint-Louis, and formerly Commandant of Lorient. The Comte -d'Artois had stayed with him there when he visited Brittany: the Prince -was charmed with his host, and promised to grant him any favour he -might at any time demand. M. de Lavigne had two sons: one of them[6] -married Mademoiselle de La Placelière. Two daughters, born of this -marriage, were left orphans on both sides at a tender age. The elder -married the Comte du Plessix-Parscau[7], a captain in the Navy, the -son and grandson of admirals, himself to-day a rear-admiral, a red -ribbon[8] and commander of the corps of naval cadets at Brest; the -younger[9] was living with her grandfather, and was seventeen years of -age when I arrived at Saint-Malo on my return from America. She was -white, delicate, slender and very pretty: she wore her beautiful fair -hair, which curled naturally, hanging low like a child's. Her fortune -was valued at five or six hundred thousand francs. - -My sisters took it into their heads to make me marry Mademoiselle de -Lavigne, who had become greatly attached to Lucile. The affair was -managed without my knowledge. I had seen Mademoiselle de Lavigne three -or four times at most; I recognised her at a distance on the "Furrow" -by her pink pelisse, her white gown and her fair hair blown out by -the wind, when I was on the beach abandoning myself to the caresses -of my old mistress, the sea. I felt myself to possess none of the -good qualities of a husband. All my illusions were alive, nothing was -spent within me; the very energy of my existence had doubled through -my travels. I was racked by the muse. Lucile liked Mademoiselle de -Lavigne, and saw the independence of my fortune in this marriage: - -"Have your way!" said I. - -In me the public man is inflexible; the private man is at the mercy of -whomsoever wishes to seize hold of him, and, to save myself an hour's -wrangling, I would become a slave for a century. - -The consent of the grandfather, the paternal uncle and the principal -relatives was easily obtained: there remained to be overcome the -objections of a maternal uncle, M. de Vauvert[10], a great democrat, -who opposed the marriage of his niece with an aristocrat like myself, -who was not one at all. We thought ourselves able to do without him, -but my pious mother insisted that the religious marriage should be -performed by a "non-juror" priest, which could only be done in secret. -M. de Vauvert knew this, and let loose the law upon us, under pretext -of rape and breach of the laws, and pleading the imaginary state of -second childhood into which the grandfather, M. de Lavigne, had fallen. -Mademoiselle de Lavigne, who had become Madame de Chateaubriand, -without my having held any communication with her, was taken away in -the name of the law and put into the Convent of Victory at Saint-Malo, -pending the decision of the courts. - -There was no rape, breach of the laws, adventure, nor love in the -whole matter; the wedding had only the bad side of a novel: truth. -The case was tried and the court pronounced the marriage civilly -valid. The members of both families being in agreement, M. de Vauvert -abandoned the proceedings. The constitutional clergyman, lavishly -feed, withdrew his protest against the first nuptial benediction, and -Madame de Chateaubriand was released from the convent, where Lucile had -imprisoned herself with her. - -It was a new acquaintance that I had to make, and it brought me all -that I could wish. I doubt whether a finer intelligence than my wife's -has ever existed: she guesses the thought and the word about to spring -to the brow or the lips of the person with whom she converses; to -deceive her is impossible. Madame de Chateaubriand has an original and -cultured mind, writes most cleverly, tells a story to perfection, and -admires me without ever having read two lines of my works: she would -dread to find ideas in them that differ from hers, or to discover that -people are not sufficiently enthusiastic over my merit. Although a -passionate judge, she is well-informed and a good judge. - -Madame de Chateaubriand's defects, if she have any, proceed from the -superabundance of her good qualities; my own very serious defects -result from the sterility of mine. It is easy to possess resignation, -patience, a general obligingness, equanimity of temper, when one -interests himself in nothing, when one is wearied by everything, -when one replies to good and bad fortune alike with a desperate and -despairing "What does it matter?" - -Madame de Chateaubriand is better than I, although less accessible in -her intercourse with others. Have I been irreproachable in my relations -with her? Have I offered my companion all the sentiments which she -deserved and which were hers by right? Has she ever complained? What -happiness has she tasted in reward for her consistent affection? She -has shared my adversities; she has been plunged into the prisons of -the Terror, the persecutions of the Empire, the disgraces of the -Restoration; she has not known the joys of maternity to counterbalance -her sufferings. Deprived of children, which she might perhaps have had -in another union, and which she would have loved madly; having none of -the honours and affections which surround the mother of a family and -console a woman for the loss of her prime, she has travelled, sterile -and solitary, towards old age. Often separated from me, disliking -literature, to her the pride of bearing my name makes no amends. Timid -and trembling for me alone, she is deprived, through her ever-renewed -anxiety, of sleep and of the time to cure her ills: I am her chronic -infirmity and the cause of her relapses. Can I compare an occasional -impatience which she has shown me with the cares which I have caused -her? Can I set my good qualities, such as they are, against her -virtues, which support the poor, which have established the Infirmerie -de Marie-Thérèse in the face of all obstacles? What are my labours -beside the works of that Christian woman? When the two of us appear -before God, it is I who shall be condemned. - -Upon the whole, when I consider my nature with all its imperfections, -is it certain that marriage has spoilt my destiny? - -I should no doubt have had more leisure and repose; I should have been -better received in certain circles and by certain of the great ones of -this earth; yet in politics, though Madame de Chateaubriand may have -crossed me, she never checked me, for here, as in matters affecting -my honour, I judge only by my own feeling. Should I have produced a -greater number of works if I had remained independent, and would those -works have been any better? Have there not been circumstances, as shall -be seen, in which, by marrying outside France, I should have ceased -to write and disowned my country? If I had not married, would not my -weakness have made me the prey of some worthless creature? Should not -I have squandered and polluted my days like Lord Byron[11]? To-day, -when I am sinking into old age, all my wildness would have passed; -nothing would remain to me but emptiness and regrets: I should be an -old bachelor, unesteemed, either deceived or undeceived, an old bird -repeating my worn-out song to whosoever refused to listen to it. The -full indulgence of my desires would not have added one string more -to my lyre, nor one more earnest note to my voice. The constraint of -my feelings, the mystery of my thoughts have perhaps increased the -forcefulness of my accents, quickened my works with an internal fever, -with a hidden flame, which would have spent itself in the free air -of love. Held back by an indissoluble tie, I purchased at first, at -the cost of a little bitterness, the sweets which I taste to-day. Of -the ills of my existence I have preserved only the incurable part. I -therefore owe an affectionate and eternal gratitude to my wife, whose -attachment has been as touching as it has been profound and sincere. -She has rendered my life more grave, more noble, more honourable, by -always inspiring me with respect for duty, if not always with the -strength to perform it. - -I was married at the end of March 1792, and on the 20th of April the -Legislative Assembly declared war against Francis II.[12], who had just -succeeded his father Leopold; on the 10th of the same month Benedict -Labre[13] was beatified in Rome: there you have two different worlds. -The war hurried the remaining nobles out of France. Persecutions were -being redoubled on the one hand; on the other, the Royalists were no -longer permitted to stay at home without being accounted as cowards: it -was time for me to make my way to the camp which I had come so far to -seek. My uncle de Bedée and his family took ship for Jersey, and I set -out for Paris with my wife and my sisters Lucile and Julie. - -[Sidenote: We go to Paris.] - -We had secured an apartment in the little Hôtel de Villette, in the -Cul-de-Sac Férou, Faubourg Saint-Germain. I hastened in search of -my first friends. I saw the men of letters with whom I had had some -acquaintance. Among new faces I noticed those of the learned Abbé -Barthélemy[14] and the poet Saint-Ange[15]. The abbé modelled the -_gynecœa_ of Athens too closely upon the drawing-rooms at Chanteloup. -The translator of Ovid was not a man without talent; talent is a gift, -an isolated thing: it can come together with other mental faculties, -it can be separated from them. Saint-Ange supplied a proof of this; he -made the greatest efforts not to be stupid, but was unable to prevent -himself. A man whose pencil I admired and still admire, Bernardin de -Saint-Pierre[16], was lacking in intelligence, and unfortunately his -character was on a level with his intelligence. How many pictures in -the _Études de la nature_ are spoilt by the writer's limited mind and -want of elevation of soul. - -Rulhière had died suddenly, in 1791[17], before my departure for -America. I have since seen his little house at Saint-Denis, with the -fountain and the pretty statue of Love, at the foot of which one reads -these verses: - - D'Egmont avec l'Amour visita cette rive: - Une image de sa beauté - Se peignit un moment sur l'onde fugitive: - D'Egmont a disparu; l'Amour seul est resté[18]. - -When I left France the theatres of Paris were still ringing with the -_Réveil d'Épiménide_[19], and with this stanza: - - J'aime la vertu guerrière - De nos braves défenseurs, - Mais d'un peuple sanguinaire - Je déteste les fureurs. - À l'Europe redoutables, - Soyons libres à jamais, - Mais soyons toujours aimables - Et gardons l'esprit français[20]. - -When I returned, the _Réveil d'Épiménide_ had been forgotten; and, if -the stanza had been sung, the author would have been badly handled. -_Charles IX._ was now the rage. The popularity of this piece depended -principally upon the circumstances of the time: the tocsin, a nation -armed with poniards, the hatred of the kings and the priests, all these -offered a reproduction between four walls of the tragedy which was -being publicly enacted. Talma, still at the commencement of his career, -was continuing his successes. - -While tragedy dyed the streets, the pastoral flourished on the stage; -there was question of little but innocent shepherds and virginal -shepherdesses: fields, brooks, meadows, sheep, doves, the golden age -beneath the thatch, were revived to the sighing of the shepherd's -pipe before the cooing Tirces and the simple-minded knitting-women -who had but lately left that other spectacle of the guillotine. Had -Sanson had time, he would have played Colin to Mademoiselle Théroigne -de Méricourt's[21] Babet. The Conventionals plumed themselves upon -being the mildest of men: good fathers, good sons, good husbands, they -went out walking with the children, acted as their nurses, wept with -tenderness at their simple games; they lifted these little lambs gently -in their arms to show them the "gee-gees" of the carts carrying the -victims to execution. They sang the praises of nature, peace, pity, -kindness, candour, the domestic virtues; these devout philanthropists, -with extreme sensibility, sent their neighbours to have their heads -sliced off for the greater happiness of mankind. - -* - -[Sidenote: Paris in 1792.] - -Paris in 1792 no longer presented the outward aspect of 1789 and 1790: -one saw no longer the budding Revolution, but a people marching drunk -to its destinies, across abysses and by uncertain roads. The appearance -of the people was no longer tumultuous, curious, eager: it was -threatening. In the streets one met none but frightened or ferocious -figures, men creeping along the houses so as not to be seen, or others -seeking their prey: timid and lowered eyes were turned away from you, -or else harsh eyes were fixed on yours in order to sound and fathom you. - -All diversity of costume had ceased; the old world kept in the -background; men had donned the uniform cloak of the new world, a -cloak which had become merely the last garment of the future victims. -Already the social license displayed at the rejuvenation of France, -the liberties of 1789, those fantastic and unruly liberties of a state -of things which is engaged in self-destruction and which has not yet -turned to anarchy were levelling themselves beneath the sceptre of the -people; one felt the approach of a plebeian tyranny, fruitful, it is -true, and filled with expectations, but also formidable in a manner -very different from the decaying despotism of the old monarchy: for, -the sovereign people being ubiquitous, when it turns tyrant the tyrant -is ubiquitous; it is the universal presence of an universal Tiberius. - -With the Parisian population was mingled an exotic population of -cut-throats from the south; the advance-guard of the Marseillese, whom -Danton was bringing up for the day's work of the 10th of August and the -massacres of September, were recognisable by their rags, their bronzed -complexions, their look of cowardice and crime, but of crime of another -sun: _in vultu vitium._ - -In the Legislative Assembly there was no one whom I recognised; -Mirabeau and the early idols of our troubles either were no more or had -been hurled from their altars. In order to put together the thread of -history broken by my journey in America, I must trace matters a little -further back. - -* - -The flight of the King, on the 21st of June 1791, caused the Revolution -to take an immense step forward. Brought back to Paris on the 25th -of that month, he was then dethroned for the first time, since the -National Assembly declared that its decrees would have the force of -law without there being any need of royal sanction or acceptance. A -high court of justice, anticipating the revolutionary tribunal, was -established at Orleans. Thenceforward Madame Roland[22] demanded the -head of the Queen, until such time as her own head should be demanded -by the Revolution. The mob-gathering had taken place in the Champ de -Mars, to protest against the decree which suspended the King from his -functions instead of putting him upon his trial. The acceptance of -the Constitution, on the 14th of September, had no calming effect. -There was a question of declaring the dethronement of Louis XVI.; -had this been done, the crime of the 21st of January would not have -been committed; the position of the French people in relation to the -monarchy and in the eyes of posterity would have been different. The -Constituents who opposed the dethronement thought they were saving the -Crown, whereas they undid it; those who thought to undo it by demanding -the dethronement would have saved it. In politics the result is almost -invariably the opposite of what is foreseen. - -On the 30th of that same month of September 1791, the Constituent -Assembly held its last sitting; the imprudent decree of the 17th of May -previous, which prohibited the re-election of the retiring members, -gave birth to the Convention. There is nothing more dangerous, more -inadequate, more inapplicable to general affairs than resolutions -appropriate to individuals or bodies of men, however honourable in -themselves. - -The decree of the 29th of September for regulating popular societies -served only to make them more violent. This was the last act of the -Constituent Assembly: it dissolved on the following day, bequeathing to -France a revolution. - -* - -[Sidenote: The Legislative Assembly.] - -The Legislative Assembly, installed on the 1st of October 1791, -revolved within the whirlwind which was about to sweep away the living -and the dead. Troubles stained the departments with blood; at Caen -the people were surfeited with massacres and ate the heart of M. de -Belsunce[23]. - -The King set his veto to the decree against the Emigrants and to that -which deprived the non-juror ecclesiastics of all emolument. These -lawful acts increased the excitement. Pétion had become Mayor of -Paris[24]. The deputies preferred a bill of impeachment against the -Emigrant Princes on the 1st of January 1792; on the 2nd, they fixed the -commencement of the Year IV. of Liberty on that same 1st of January. -About the 13th of February, red caps were seen in the streets of Paris, -and the municipality ordered pikes to be manufactured. The manifesto -of the Emigrants appeared on the 1st of March. Austria armed. Paris -was divided into more or less hostile sections[25]. On the 20th of -March 1792, the Legislative Assembly adopted the sepulchral piece of -mechanism without which the sentences of the Terror could not have been -executed; it was first tried on dead bodies, so that these might teach -it its trade. One may speak of the instrument as of an executioner, -since persons who were touched by its good services presented it with -sums of money for its support[26]. The invention of the murder-machine, -at the very moment when it had become necessary to crime, is a -noteworthy proof of the intelligence of co-ordinate facts, or rather a -proof of the hidden action of Providence when it proposes to change the -face of empires. - -Minister Roland had been summoned to the King's Council at the -instigation of the Girondins[27]. On the 20th of April, war was -declared against the King of Hungary and Bohemia[28]. Marat published -the _Ami du peuple_ in spite of the decree by which he was stricken. -The Royal German Regiment and the Berchiny Regiment deserted. -Isnard[29] spoke of the perfidy of the Court, Gensonné[30] and -Brissot[31] denounced the Austrian Committee. An insurrection broke -out on the subject of the Royal Guard, which was disbanded[32]. On -the 28th of May, the Assembly declared its sittings permanent. On the -20th of June, the Palace of the Tuileries was forced by the mob of -the Faubourgs Saint-Antoine and Saint-Marceau, the pretext being the -refusal of Louis XVI. to sanction the proscription of the priests; the -King was in peril of his life. The country was declared in danger. -M. de La Fayette was burnt in effigy. The federates of the second -Federation were arriving; the Marseilleise, called up by Danton, were -on the march: they entered Paris on the 30th of July and were billeted -by Pétion at the Cordeliers. - -* - -By the side of the national tribune, two competing tribunes had sprung -up: that of the Jacobins and that of the Cordeliers, then the more -formidable because it sent members to the famous Commune of Paris and -supplied it with means of action. If the formation of the Commune had -not taken place, Paris, for want of a point of concentration, would -have split up, and the various mayoralties become rival powers. - -[Sidenote: The Club of Cordeliers.] - -The Club des Cordeliers had its abode in the monastery, whose church -was built in the reign of St Louis, in 1259[33], with funds paid as -damages for a murder: in 1590 it became the resort of the most famous -Leaguers. Certain places seem to be the laboratories of factions: -"Intelligence was brought," says L'Estoile (12 July 1593), "to the -Duc de Mayenne[34] of two hundred Cordeliers newly arrived in Paris, -supplying themselves with arms and concerting with the Sixteen[35], -who held council daily at the Cordeliers of Paris.... On that day the -Sixteen, assembled at the Cordeliers, cast aside their arms." - -The fanatics of the League had therefore handed down the monastery of -the Cordeliers to our philosophical revolutionaries as a dead-house. - -The pictures, the carved and painted images, the veils, the curtains -of the convent had been pulled down; the basilica, flayed of its -skin, presented its bare skeleton to the eye. In the apsis of the -church, where the wind and the rain entered through the broken panes -of the rose-windows, some joiners' benches served as a table for the -president, when the sittings were held in the church. On these benches -lay red caps, with which each speaker covered his head before ascending -the tribune. The latter consisted of four buttressed stop-planks, -crossed at their X by a single plank, like a scaffolding. -Behind the president, together with a statue of Liberty, one saw -so-called instruments of ancient justice, instruments whose place had -been supplied by one other, the blood-machine, in the same way as -complicated machinery has been replaced by the hydraulic ram. The Club -des Jacobins _épurés_, or purged Jacobin Club, borrowed some of these -arrangements of the Cordeliers. - -* - -The orators, who had met for purposes of destruction, were unable to -agree in electing their leaders or in the methods to be employed; they -treated each other as scoundrels, pickpockets, thieves, butchers, to -the cacophony of the hisses and groans of their several groups of -devils. Their metaphors were taken from the stock of murders, borrowed -from the filthiest objects of every kind of sewer and dunghill, or -drawn from the places consecrated to the prostitution of men and -women. Gestures accentuated these figures of speech; everything was -called by its name, with cynical indecency, in an obscene and impious -pageantry of oaths and blasphemies. Destruction and production, death -and generation, one distinguished naught else through the savage -slang which deafened the ears. The speech-makers, with their shrill -or thundering voices, had interrupters other than their opponents: -the little brown owls of the cloisters without monks and the steeple -without bells played in the broken windows, in the hope of booty; -they interrupted the speeches. They were first called to order by the -jingling of the impotent bell; but when they failed to stop their -clamour, shots were fired at them to compel them to silence: they fell, -throbbing, wounded and fatidical, in the midst of the pandemonium. -Broken-down timber-work, rickety pews, ramshackle stalls, fragments -of saints rolled and pushed against the walls, served as benches -for the dirty, grimy, drunken, sweating spectators, in their ragged -_carmagnoles_, with their shouldered pikes or bare crossed arms. - -The most deformed of the band obtained the readiest hearing. Mental -and bodily infirmities have played a part in our troubles: wounded -self-love has made great revolutionaries. - -* - -Following this precedence of hideousness, there appeared in succession, -mingled with the ghosts of the Sixteen, a series of gorgon heads. -The former doctor of the Comte d'Artois' Bodyguards, the Swiss fœtus -Marat[36], his bare feet in wooden clogs or hob-nailed shoes, was the -first to hold forth, by virtue of his incontestable claims. Holding -the office of "jester" at the Court of the people, he exclaimed, with -an insipid expression and the smirk of trite politeness which the old -bringing-up set on every face: - -"People, you must cut off two hundred and seventy thousand heads!" - -To this Caligula of the public places succeeded the atheistical -shoemaker Chaumette[37]. He was followed by the "Attorney-General -to the Lantern," Camille Desmoulins, a stuttering Cicero, a public -counsellor of murders worn out with debauchery, a frivolous Republican -with his puns and jokes, a maker of graveyard jests, who said that, in -the massacres of September, "all had passed off orderly." He consented -to become a Spartan, provided the making of the black broth was left to -Méot the tavern-keeper[38]. - -Fouché[39], who had hastened up from Juilly or Nantes, studied disaster -under those doctors: in the circle of wild beasts seated attentively -round the chair he looked like a dressed-up hyena. He smelt the -effluvium of the blood to come; already he inhaled the incense of the -procession of asses and executioners, pending the day on which, driven -from the Club des Jacobins as a thief, an atheist and an assassin, he -should be chosen as a minister. - -[Sidenote: Marat.] - -When Marat had climbed down from his plank, that popular Triboulet[40] -became the sport of his masters: they filliped him on the nose, trod -on his feet, hustled him with "gee-ups," all of which did not prevent -him from becoming the leader of the multitude, climbing to the clock -of the Hôtel de Ville, sounding the tocsin for a general massacre, and -triumphing in the revolutionary tribunal. - -Marat, like Milton's Sin, was violated by death[41]: Chénier wrote his -apotheosis, David[42] painted him in his blood-stained bath; he was -compared to the divine Author of the Gospel. A prayer was dedicated to -him: "Heart of Jesus, Heart of Marat; O Sacred Heart of Jesus, O Sacred -Heart of Marat!" This heart of Marat had for a ciborium a costly pyx -from the Royal Repository. In a grass-grown cenotaph, erected on the -Place du Carrousel, were exhibited the divinity's bust, his bath, lamp, -and inkstand. Then the wind changed: the unclean thing, poured from its -agate urn into a different vase, was emptied into the sewer. - -* - -The scenes at the Cordeliers, of which I witnessed some three or four, -were dominated and presided over by Danton, a Hun of Gothic stature, -with a flat nose, outspread nostrils, furrowed jaws, and the face of -a gendarme combined with that of a lewd and cruel attorney. In the -shell of his church, as it were the skeleton of the centuries, Danton, -with his three male furies, Camille Desmoulins, Marat, and Fabre -d'Églantine[43], organized the assassinations of September. Billaud de -Varennes[44] proposed to set fire to the prisons and burn all those -inside; another Conventional voted that all the untried prisoners -should be drowned; Marat declared himself in favour of a general -massacre. Danton was besought to show mercy to the prisoners: - -"----the prisoners!" he replied. - -As author of the circular of the Commune, he invited free men to repeat -in the departments the enormities perpetrated at the Carmelites and the -Abbaye. - -Let us consider history: Sixtus V.[45] pronounced the devotion of -Jacques Clément[46] to be equal, for the salvation of mankind, to the -mystery of the Incarnation, even as Marat was compared to the Saviour -of the World; Charles IX.[47] wrote to the governors of provinces to -imitate the St. Bartholomew[48] massacres, even as Danton summoned -the patriots to copy the massacres of September. The Jacobins were -plagiaries; they were still more so when they offered up Louis XVI. -in imitation of Charles I.[49] As these crimes were connected with a -great social movement, some have, very unaptly, imagined that those -crimes produced the greatness of the Revolution, of which they were -but the hideous _pasticcios_: while watching a fine nature suffering, -passionate or systematic minds have admired only its convulsions. - -Danton, more candid than the English, said: - -"We will not try our King, we will kill him." - -He also said: - -"Those priests and nobles are not guilty, but they must die, because -they are out of place; they trammel the movement of things and obstruct -the future." - -These words, beneath an appearance of horrible depth, possess no extent -of genius, for they presume that innocence is nothing, and that moral -order can be withdrawn from political order without causing the latter -to perish, which is false. - -[Sidenote: Danton.] - -Danton had not the conviction of the principles he maintained; he had -donned the revolutionary cloak only to make his fortune. - -"Come and 'brawl' with us," he advised a young man: "when you have -grown rich, you can do as you please." - -He admitted that, if he had not sold himself to the Court, it was -because it would not pay a high enough price for him: an instance -of the effrontery of a mind that knows itself and a corruption that -reveals itself open-mouthed. - -Though inferior, even in ugliness, to Marat, whose agent he had been, -Danton was superior to Robespierre, without, like the latter, having -given his name to his crimes. He preserved the religious sense: - -"We have not," he said, "destroyed superstition to establish atheism." - -His passions might have been good ones, if only because they were -passions. We must allow for character in the actions of men; culprits -with heated imaginations like Danton seem, by reason of the very -exaggeration of their sayings and doings, to be more froward than the -cool-headed culprits, whereas in fact they are less so. This remark -applies also to the people: taken collectively, the people is a poet, -author and ardent actor of the piece which it plays or is made to play. -Its excesses partake not so much of the instinct of a native cruelty -as of the delirium of a crowd intoxicated with sights, especially when -these are tragic: a thing so true that, in popular horrors, there is -always something superfluous added to the picture and the emotion. - -Danton was caught in the trap himself had laid. It availed him nothing -to flick pellets of bread at his judges' noses, to reply nobly and -courageously, to cause the tribunal to hesitate, to endanger and -terrify the Convention, to reason logically upon crimes by which the -very power of his enemies had been created, to exclaim, smitten with -barren repentance, "It was I who instituted this infamous tribunal: I -crave pardon for it of God and men!" a phrase which has been pilfered -more than once. It was before being indicted before the tribunal that -he should have declared its infamy. - -It only remained to Danton to show himself as pitiless for his own -death as he had been for that of his victims, to hold his head higher -than the hanging knife: and this he did. From the stage of the Terror, -where his feet stuck in the clotted blood of the previous day, after -turning a glance of contempt and domination over the crowd, he said to -the headsman: - -"Show my head to the people; it is worth showing." - -Danton's head remained in the executioner's hands, while the acephalous -shade went to join the decapitated shades of his victims: a further -instance of equality. Danton's deacon and sub-deacon, Camille -Desmoulins and Fabre d'Églantine, died in the same manner as their -priest. - -[Sidenote: Camille Desmoulins.] - -At a time when pensions were being paid to the guillotine, when one -wore at the buttonhole of one's carmagnole, by way of a flower, a -little guillotine in gold, or else a small piece of a guillotined -person's heart; at a time when people shouted, "Hell for ever!" when -they celebrated the joyful orgies of blood, steel and fury, when they -toasted annihilation, when they danced the dance of the dead quite -naked, so as not to have the trouble of undressing when about to -join them; at that time one was bound in the end to come to the last -banquet, the last pleasantry of sorrow. Desmoulins was invited to -Fouquier-Tinville's[50] tribunal. - -"What is your age?" asked the president. - -"The age of the Sans-Culotte Jesus," replied Camille facetiously[51]. - -An avenging obsession compelled the assassins of Christians unceasingly -to confess the name of Christ. - -It would be unfair to forget that Camille Desmoulins dared to defy -Robespierre and to atone for his errors by his courage. He gave the -signal for the reaction against the Terror. A young and charming wife, -full of energy, had, by making him capable of love, made him capable -of virtue and sacrifice. Indignation instilled eloquence into the -tribune's coarse and reckless irony: he attacked in the grand manner -the scaffolds he had helped to erect. Adapting his conduct to his -speech, he refused to consent to his execution; he struggled with the -headsman in the tumbril, and arrived at the edge of the last gulf with -his clothes half tom from his back. - -Fabre d'Églantine, author of a play which will live[52], displayed, -quite contrary to Desmoulins, a signal weakness. Jean Roseau, public -executioner of Paris under the League, who was hanged for lending his -offices to the assassins of the Président Brisson[53], could not bring -himself to accept the rope. It seems that one does not learn how to die -by killing others. - -The debates at the Cordeliers established for me the fact of a state of -society at the most rapid moment of its transformation. I had seen the -Constituent Assembly commence the murder of the kingship in 1789 and -1790; I found the body, still quite warm, of the old monarchy handed -over in 1792 to the legislative gut-workers: they disembowelled and -dissected it in the cellars of their clubs, as the halberdiers cut up -and burnt the body of the Balafré[54] in the garret of Blois Castle. - -Of all the men whom I recall, Danton, Marat. Camille Desmoulins, Fabre -d'Églantine, Robespierre, not one is alive. I met them for a moment on -my passage between a nascent society in America and an expiring society -in Europe; between the forests of the New World and the solitudes of -exile: before I had reckoned a few months on foreign soil, those lovers -of death had already spent themselves in her arms. At the distance -at which I now find myself from their appearance, it seems to me as -though, after descending into the infernal regions of my youth, I -retain a confused recollection of the shades which I vaguely saw wander -by the bank of Cocytus: they complete the varied dreams of my life, and -come to be inscribed on my tablets of beyond the tomb. - -* - -It was a great pleasure to meet M. de Malesherbes again and speak to -him of my old projects. I stated my plans for a second journey, which -was to last nine years; all I had to do first was to take another -little journey to Germany: I was to run to the Army of the Princes, and -come back at a run to kill the Revolution; all this would be finished -in two or three months, when I should hoist my sail and return to the -New World, having got rid of a revolution and enriched myself by a -marriage. - -And yet my zeal exceeded my faith; I felt that the emigration was a -stupidity and a madness: - -"I was shaven on all hands," says Montaigne. "To the Ghibelin I was a -Guelf, to Guelf a Ghibelin[55]." - -My distaste for absolute monarchy left me with no illusions concerning -the step I was taking. I cherished scruples, and, although resolved -to sacrifice myself to honour, I desired to have M. de Malesherbes' -opinion on the emigration. I found him much incensed: the crimes -continued under his eyes had caused the friend of Rousseau to lose his -political toleration; between the cause of the victims and that of the -butchers he did not hesitate. He believed that anything was better than -the existing state of things; he thought that, in my particular case, a -man wearing the sword was bound to join the brothers of a King who was -oppressed and delivered to his enemies. He approved of my returning to -America, and urged my brother to go with me. - -I raised the ordinary objections based upon the assistance of -foreigners, the interests of the country, and so on. He replied -and, passing from general arguments to details, quoted some awkward -examples. He put before me the case of the Guelphs and Ghibhelinnes, -relying on the troops of the Emperor and the Pope; in England, the -barons rising against John Lackland. Finally, in our times, he quoted -the case of the Republic of the United States imploring the assistance -of France. - -"In the same way," continued M. de Malesherbes, "the men most devoted -to liberty and philosophy, the Republicans and Protestants, have never -considered themselves to blame when they have borrowed a force which -could ensure the victory of their opinion. Would the New World be free -today without our gold, our ships, and our soldiers? I, Malesherbes, -who am speaking to you, did not I, in 1776, receive Franklin, who -came to renew the relations entered into by Silas Deane[56], and yet -was Franklin a traitor? Was American liberty any the less honourable -for being assisted by La Fayette and won by French grenadiers? Every -government which, instead of securing the fundamental laws of society, -itself transgresses the laws of equity, the rules of justice, ceases to -exist, and restores man to the state of nature. It is then lawful to -defend one's self as best one may, to resort to the means that appear -most calculated to overthrow tyranny and to restore the rights of one -and all." - -[Sidenote: Talks with Malesherbes.] - -The principles of natural right as set forth by the greatest -publicists, developed by such a man as M. de Malesherbes, and supported -by numerous historical examples, struck me without convincing me; -I yielded in reality only to the impulse of my age, to the point -of honour. I will add some more recent examples to those of M. de -Malesherbes: during the Spanish War of 1823, the French Republican -Party went to serve under the banner of the Cortès, and did not scruple -to bear arms against its own country; in 1830 and 1831, the Poles and -the constitutional Italians invoked the assistance of France, and the -Portuguese of the "Charter" invaded their country with the aid of -foreign money and foreign soldiers. We have two standards of weight -and measurement: we approve in the case of one idea, one system, one -interest, one man of that which we condemn in the case of another idea, -another system, another interest, another man. - -These conversations between myself and the illustrious defender of the -King took place at my sister-in-law's; she had just given birth to a -second son, to whom M. de Malesherbes stood god-father and gave his -name, Christian. I was present at the baptism of this child, which -was to see its father and mother only at an age at which life leaves -no memory and appears at a distance like an ill-remembered dream. The -preparations for my departure lagged. They had thought that they were -making me contract a rich marriage: it appeared that my wife's fortune -was invested in Church securities; the nation undertook to pay them -after its own fashion. Not only that, but Madame de Chateaubriand had, -with the consent of her trustees, lent the scrip of a large portion of -these securities to her sister, the Comtesse du Plessix-Parscau, who -had emigrated. Money was still wanting, therefore; it became necessary -to borrow. - -A notary procured ten thousand francs for us: I was taking them home to -the Cul-de-sac Férou, in _assignats_, when, in the Rue de Richelieu, I -met one of my old messmates in the Navarre Regiment, the Comte Achard. -He was a great gambler; he proposed that we should go to the rooms of -M----, where we could talk; the devil urged me: I went upstairs, I -played, I lost all, except fifteen hundred francs, with which, full of -remorse and humiliation, I climbed into the first coach that passed. -I had never played before: play produced in me a sort of painful -intoxication; if the passion had attacked me, it would have turned -my brain. With half-disordered wits, I stepped out of the coach at -Saint-Sulpice, and left my pocket-book behind, containing the remnant -of my treasure. I ran home and said that I had left the ten thousand -francs in a hackney-coach. - -I went out again, turned down the Rue Dauphine, crossed the Pont-Neuf, -feeling half inclined to throw myself into the water; I went to the -Place du Palais-Royal, where I had taken the ill-omened vehicle. I -questioned the Savoyards who watered the screws, and described my -conveyance; they told me a number at random. The police commissary of -the district informed me that that number belonged to a job-master -living at the top of the Faubourg Saint-Denis. I went to the -man's house; I remained all night in the stable, waiting for the -hackney-coaches to return: a large number arrived in succession which -were not mine; at last, at two o'clock in the morning, I saw my chariot -drive in. I had hardly time to recognise my two white steeds, when the -poor beasts, utterly worn out, dropped down upon the straw, stiff, -their stomachs distended, their legs stretched out, as though dead. - -The coachman remembered driving me. After me, he had taken up a -citizen, whom he had set down at the Jacobins; after the citizen, a -lady, whom he had taken to the Rue de Cléry, number 13; after that -lady, a gentleman, whom he had put down at the Recollects in the Rue -Saint-Martin. I promised the driver a gratuity, and, the moment -daylight had come, set out on the discovery of my fifteen hundred -francs, as I had gone in search of the North-West Passage. It seemed -clear to me that the citizen of the Jacobins had confiscated them by -right of his sovereignty. The young person of the Rue de Cléry averred -that she had seen nothing in the coach. I reached the third station -without any hope; the coachman gave a tolerably good description of the -gentleman he had driven. The porter exclaimed: - -"It's the Père So-and-so!" - -He led me through the passages and the deserted apartments to a -Recollect who had remained behind alone to make an inventory of the -furniture of his convent. Seated on a heap of rubbish, in a dusty -frock-coat, the monk listened to my story: - -"Are you," he asked, "the Chevalier de Chateaubriand?" - -"Yes," I replied. - -"Here is your pocket-book," said he. "I would have brought it when I -had finished: I found your address inside." - -[Sidenote: An honest monk.] - -It was this hunted and plundered monk, engaged in conscientiously -counting up the relics of his cloister for his proscribes, who restored -to me the fifteen hundred francs with which I was about to make my -way to exile. Failing this small sum, I should not have emigrated: -what should I have become? My whole life would have changed. I will be -hanged if I would to-day move a step to recover a million. - -This happened on the 16th of June 1792. Obeying the promptings of -my instinct, I had returned from America to offer my sword to Louis -XVI., not to associate myself with party intrigues. The disbanding of -the King's new guard, of which Murat[57] was a member; the successive -ministries of Roland[58], Dumouriez, Duport du Tertre[59]; the little -conspiracies of the Court and the great popular risings filled me -only with weariness and contempt. I heard much talk of Madame Roland, -whom I never saw: her Memoirs show that she possessed an extraordinary -strength of mind. She was said to be very agreeable: it remains to be -known whether she was sufficiently so to make at all tolerable the -cynicism of her unnatural virtues. Certainly the woman who, at the -foot of the guillotine, asked for pen and ink to describe the last -moments of her journey, to write down the discoveries she had made in -the course of her progress from the Conciergerie to the Place de la -Révolution, that woman displayed an absorption in futurity, a contempt -for life, of which there are few examples. Madame Roland possessed -character rather than genius: the first can give the second, the second -cannot give the first. - -On the 19th of June, I went to the Vale of Montmorency to visit the -Hermitage of J. J. Rousseau: not that I delighted in the memories of -Madame d'Épinay[60] and of that depraved and artificial society; but -I wished to take leave of the solitude of a man whose morals were -antipathetic to mine, although he himself was endowed with a talent -whose accents stirred my youth. On the next day, the 20th of June, I -was still at the Hermitage, and there met two men walking, like myself, -in that deserted spot during the fatal day of the monarchy, indifferent -as they were or might be, thought I, to the affairs of this world: -one was M. Maret[61], of the Empire, the other M. Barère[62], of the -Republic. The amiable Barère had come, far from the uproar, in his -sentimental, philosophical way, to whisper soft revolutionary nothings -to the shade of Julie. The troubadour of the guillotine, on whose -report the Convention decreed that the Terror was the order of the -day, escaped the same Terror by hiding in the head-basket; from the -bottom of the bloody trough, beneath the scaffold, he was heard only to -croak the word, "Death!" Barère belonged to the species of tigers which -Oppian represents as born of the wind's light breath: _velocis Zephyri -proles._ - -Ginguené, Chamfort, my old friends among the men of letters, were -delighted with the 20th of June. La Harpe, continuing his lectures at -the Lycée, shouted in a stentorian voice: - -"Fools! To all the representations of the people you answered, -'Bayonets! Bayonets!' Well, you have them now, your bayonets!" - -Although my travels in America had made a less insignificant personage -of me, I was unable to rise to so great a height of principle and -eloquence. Fontanes was in danger through his former connection -with the Société Monarchique. My brother was a member of a club of -_enragés._ The Prussians were marching by virtue of a convention -between the Cabinets of Vienna and Berlin; a rather fierce engagement -had already taken place between the French and Austrians near Mons. It -was more than time for me to take a decision. - -[Sidenote: My brother and I emigrate.] - -My brother and I procured false passports for Lille: we were two -wine-merchants and national guards of Paris, wearing the uniform -and proposing to tender for the army supplies. My brother's valet, -Louis Poullain, known as Saint-Louis, travelled under his own name; -he came from Lamballe, in Lower Brittany, but was going to see his -family in Flanders. The day of our emigration was settled for the -15th of July, the day after the second Federation. We spent the 14th -in the Tivoli garden, with the Rosanbo family, my sisters and my -wife. Tivoli belonged to M. Boutin[63], whose daughter had married -M. de Malesherbes[64]. Towards the end of the day we saw a good many -federates wandering about after disbanding; on their hats was written -in chalk, "Pétion or death!" Tivoli, the starting-point of my exile, -was to become a centre of amusements and fêtes. Our relations took -leave of us without sadness; they were persuaded that we were going on -a pleasure-trip. My recovered fifteen hundred francs seemed a treasure -sufficient to bring me back in triumph to Paris. - -On the 10th of July, at six o'clock in the morning, we climbed into the -diligence: we had booked our seats in the front part, by the guard; -the valet, whom we were supposed not to know, stuffed himself into the -inside with the other passengers. Saint-Louis walked in his sleep; in -Paris he used to go looking for his master at night, with his eyes -open, but quite asleep. He used to undress my brother and put him to -bed, sleeping all the time, answering, "I know, I know," to all that -was said to him during his attacks, and waking only when cold water was -thrown in his face: he was a man of about forty, nearly six feet high, -and as ugly as he was tall. This poor fellow, who was very respectful -by nature, had never served any master except my brother; he was quite -confused when he had to sit down to table with us at supper. The -passengers, great patriots all, talking of hanging the aristocrats from -the lanterns, increased his dismay. The thought that, at the end of all -this, he would be obliged to pass through the Austrian Army, in order -to fight in the Army of the Princes, completely turned his brain. He -drank heavily and climbed into the diligence again; we went back to the -coupé. - -In the middle of the night we heard the passengers shouting, with their -heads out of the windows: - -"Stop, postilion, stop!" - -They stopped, the door of the diligence was opened, and immediately -male and female voices exclaimed: - -"Get down, citizen, get down! We can't stand this! Get down, you beast! -He's a brigand! Get down, get down!" - -We got down too, and saw Saint-Louis hustled, flung out of the coach, -stand up, turn his wide-open but sleeping eyes around him, and take -to flight in the direction of Paris, without his hat, and as fast as -his legs would carry him. We were unable to acknowledge him, or we -should have betrayed ourselves; we had to leave him to his fate. He was -caught and taken up at the first village, and stated that he was the -servant of M. le Comte de Chateaubriand, and that he lived in the Rue -de Bondy, Paris. The rural police passed him on from brigade to brigade -to the Président de Rosanbo's; the unhappy man's depositions served to -prove our emigration, and to send my brother and sister-in-law to the -scaffold. - -The next day, when the diligence stopped for breakfast, we had to -listen to the whole story a score of times: - -"That man had a perturbed imagination; he was dreaming out loud; he -said strange things; he was no doubt a conspirator, an assassin fleeing -from justice." - -The well-bred citizenesses blushed and waved large green-paper -"Constitutional" fans. We easily recognised through these stories the -effects of somnambulism, fear and wine. - -[Sidenote: We cross the frontier.] - -On reaching Lille, we went in search of the person who was to take -us across the frontier. The Emigration had its agents of safety who -eventually became agents of perdition. The monarchical party was still -powerful, the question undecided: the weak and cowardly served, while -awaiting the turn of events. We left Lille before the gates were -closed: we stopped at a remote house, and did not start until ten -o'clock at night, when it was quite dark; we carried nothing with us; -we had a little cane in our hands; it was no more than a year since I, -in the same way, followed my Dutchman in the American forests. - -We crossed cornfields through which wound hardly traceable footpaths. -The French and Austrian patrols were beating the country-side: we -were liable to fall in with either, or to find ourselves in front of -the pistols of a vedette. We saw single horsemen in the distance, -motionless, weapon in hand; we heard the hoofs of horses in the hollow -roads; laying our ears against the ground, we heard the regular tramp -of infantry marching. After three hours spent alternately in running -and in creeping along on tiptoe, we reached a cross-road in a wood -where some belated nightingales were singing. A troop of uhlans, posted -behind a hedge, fell upon us with raised sabres. We shouted: - -"Officers going to join the Princes!" - -We asked to be taken to Tournay, saying we were in a position to make -ourselves known. The officer in command placed us between his troopers -and carried us off. When day broke, the uhlans perceived our national -guards' uniforms under our surtouts, and insulted the colours in which -France was soon to dress her vassal, Europe. - -In Tournaisis, the primitive kingdom of the Franks, Clovis resided -during the early years of his reign; he set out from Tournay with his -companions, summoned as he was to the conquest of the Gauls: "Arms -always have right on their side," says Tacitus. Through this town, from -which, in 486, the first King of the First Race[65] rode to found his -long and mighty monarchy, I passed in 1792 to go and join the Princes -of the Third Race on foreign soil, and I passed through it again in -1815, when the last King of the French abandoned the kingdom of the -first King of the Franks: _omnia migrant._ - -When we reached Tournay, I left my brother to grapple with the -authorities, and in the custody of a soldier visited the cathedral. In -days of old, Odo of Orleans, the scholasticus of the cathedral, seated -at night before the church porch, taught his disciples the course of -the planets, and pointed out to them the Milky Way and the stars. -I would rather have found this artless eleventh-century astronomer -at Tournay than the Pandours. I delight in those days in which the -chronicles tell me, under the year 1049, that, in Normandy, a man had -been transformed into a donkey: that was like to have happened to me, -as the reader knows, at the house of the Demoiselles Couppart, who -taught me to read. Hildebert[66], in 1114, saw a girl from whose ears -grew spikes of corn: perhaps it was Ceres. The Meuse, which I was -soon to cross, was suspended in mid-air in the year 1118, as witness -Guillaume de Nangis[67] and Albéric[68]. Rigord[69] assures us that, -in 1194, between Compiègne and Clermont in Beauvoisis, there fell a -storm of hail, mixed with ravens which carried charcoal and caused a -fire. If the tempest, as Gervase of Tilbury[70] tells us, was unable to -extinguish a candle on the window-sill of the priory of Saint-Michel -"de Camissa," we also know through him that, in the Diocese of Uzès, -there was a fair and clear spring which changed its place when anything -unclean was thrown into it: our latter-day consciences do not put -themselves out for so little. - -Reader, I am not wasting time; I am chatting with you to keep you in -patience while waiting for my brother, who is arranging things: here -he comes, after explaining himself to the satisfaction of the Austrian -commander. We have leave to go on to Brussels, an exile purchased with -too much care and trouble. - -* - -[Sidenote: Brussels.] - -Brussels was the head-quarters of the upper Emigration: the most -elegant women of Paris and the most fashionable men, those who were -able to march only as aides-de-camp, were awaiting amid pleasures the -moment of victory. They had fine brand-new uniforms; they paraded -the very pedantry of frivolity. Considerable sums, enough to keep -them for a few years, were squandered in a few days: it was not worth -while economizing, since we should be in Paris directly. Those gallant -knights, reversing the practice of the olden chivalry, were preparing -for glory with successes in love. They scornfully watched us trudging -on foot, knapsack on back, small provincial gentlemen that we were, or -poor officers turned into private soldiers. Those Hercules sat at the -feet of their Omphales spinning the distaffs which they had sent us and -which we handed back to them as we passed, contenting ourselves with -our swords. - -In Brussels I found my scanty luggage, which had fraudulently passed -the customs ahead of me: it consisted of my Navarre uniform, a little -linen, and my precious papers, with which I could not part. I was -invited with my brother to dine at the Baron de Breteuil's; I there met -the Baronne de Montmorency, then young and beautiful, at this moment -dying; martyr bishops in watered-silk cassocks and gold crosses; young -magistrates transformed into Hungarian colonels; and Rivarol, whom I -saw only once in my life. His name had not been mentioned; I was struck -by the conversation of a man who held forth all alone and was listened -to, with some right, as an oracle. Rivarol's wit was prejudicial to his -talent, as his tongue was to his pen. Talking of revolutions, he said: - -"The first blow aims at God, the second strikes only a senseless slab -of marble." - -I had resumed my uniform of a petty infantry subaltern; I was to start -on rising from dinner, and my knapsack was behind the door. I was still -bronzed by the American sun and the sea air; I wore my hair uncurled -and unpowdered. My face and my silence troubled Rivarol; the Baron de -Breteuil, perceiving his restless curiosity, satisfied it: - -"Where does your brother the chevalier come from?" he asked my brother. - -I answered: - -"From Niagara." - -Rivarol cried: - -"From the cataract!" - -I was silent. He hazarded an uncompleted question: - -"Monsieur is going----?" - -"Where they are fighting," I broke in. - -We rose from table. - -This fatuous Emigrant society was hateful to me; I was eager to see my -peers, Emigrants like myself with six hundred francs a year. We were -very stupid, no doubt, but at least we aired our sword-blades, and, if -we had obtained any successes, we should have been the last to profit -by victory. - -My brother remained at Brussels with the Baron de Montboissier[71], who -appointed him his aide-de-camp; I set out alone for Coblentz. - -There is no more historic road than that which I followed; it recalled -in every part some memory or greatness of France. I passed through -Liège, one of those municipal republics which so often rose against -their bishops or against the Counts of Flanders. Louis XI.[72], the -ally of the Liégeois, was obliged to assist at the sack of their town -in order to escape from his ridiculous prison of Péronne. I was about -to join and to become one of the soldiers who glory in such things. In -1792, the relations between Liège and France were more peaceful: the -Abbot of Saint-Hubert was obliged every year to send two hounds to King -Dagobert's successors. - -At Aix-la-Chapelle there was another offering, but on the part of -France: the pall that had served at the funeral of a Most Christian -King was sent to the tomb of Charlemagne as a vassal banner to the -lord's fief. Our kings thus did fealty and homage on taking possession -of the inheritance of Eternity: laying their hands between the knees -of their liege-lady, Death, they swore to be faithful to her, after -pressing the feudal kiss on her mouth. This, however, was the only -suzerain of whom France acknowledged herself the vassal. - -[Illustration: Le Comte de Rivarol.] - -The Cathedral of Aix-la-Chapelle was built by Karl the Great and -consecrated by Leo III[73]. Two prelates failing to attend the -ceremony, their places were filled by two Bishops of Maastricht, long -deceased, and resuscitated for the purpose. Charlemagne, having lost -a beautiful mistress, pressed her body in his arms and refused to be -separated from it. His passion was attributed to a charm: the young -corpse was examined, and a tiny pearl found beneath the tongue. The -pearl was flung into a marsh; Charlemagne became madly enamoured of -the marsh, and ordered it to be filled up: there he built a palace and -a church, to spend his life in one and his death in the other. The -authorities here are Archbishop Turpin[74] and Petrarch[75]. - -At Cologne I admired the cathedral: if it were finished, it would be -the finest Gothic monument in Europe. The monks were the painters, -the sculptors, the architects, and the masons of their basilicas; -they gloried in the title of master-mason, _cœmentarius._ It is -curious to hear ignorant philosophers and chattering democrats cry out -to-day against the monks, as though those frocked proletarians, those -mendicant orders to whom we owe almost everything, had been gentlemen! - -Cologne reminded me of Caligula[76] and St. Bruno[77]; I have seen the -remains of the dykes built by the former at Baiæ, and the deserted -cell of the latter at the Grande Chartreuse. - -I went up the Rhine as far as Coblentz: _Confluentia._ The Army of the -Princes was no longer there. I crossed those empty kingdoms: _inania -regna_; I saw the beautiful valley of the Rhine, the Tempe of the -barbarian muses, where the knights appeared around the ruins of their -castles, where one hears the clash of arms at night, when war is at -hand. - -[Sidenote: Frederic William II.] - -Between Coblentz and Trèves, I fell in with the Prussian Army: I was -passing along the column when, coming up with the guards, I noticed -that they were marching in battle order, with cannon in line; the -King[78] and the Duke of Brunswick[79] were in the centre of the -square, composed of Frederic's old grenadiers. My white uniform caught -the King's eye: he sent for me; the Duke of Brunswick and he took off -their hats and saluted the old French Army in my person. They asked me -my name, my regiment, the place where I was going to join the Princes. -This military welcome touched me: I replied with emotion that, on -learning in America of my King's misfortunes, I had returned to shed my -blood in his service. The generals and officers surrounding Frederic -William made a movement of approbation, and the Prussian sovereign said: - -"Sir, one always recognises the sentiments of the French nobility." - -He took off his hat again and stood uncovered and motionless, until I -had disappeared behind the mass of the grenadiers. Nowadays people cry -out against the Emigrants: they are "tigers who rent their mother's -bosom;" at the time of which I speak, men loved the examples of old, -and honour ranked as high as country. In 1792, fidelity to one's oath -was still accounted a duty; to-day, it has become so rare that it is -regarded as a virtue. - -A strange scene, already rehearsed with others than myself, almost made -me retrace my steps. They refused to admit me at Trèves, where the Army -of the Princes was: - -"I was one of those men who await the course of events before making -up their minds; I ought to have joined the cantonment three years ago; -I came when victory was assured. They had no use for me; they had only -too many of those heroes after the battle. Every day, squadrons of -cavalry were deserting; even the artillery was melting away in a body; -and, if that went on, they would not know what to do with those people!" - -O prodigious illusionment of parties! - -I met my cousin Armand de Chateaubriand: he took me under his -protection, assembled the Bretons and pleaded my cause. They sent for -me; I made my explanation: I told them that I had come from America -to have the honour of serving beside my comrades; that the campaign -was opened, not commenced, so that I was still in time for the first -fire; that, however, I would go back if they insisted, but not before -I had obtained satisfaction for an undeserved insult. The matter was -arranged: as I was a good fellow, the ranks were opened to receive -me, and my only difficulty was to make my selection. - -[Illustration: Frederic William II.] - -* - -[Sidenote: The Emigrant army.] - -The Army of the Princes was composed of gentlemen, classed by provinces -and serving as private soldiers: the nobility was harking back to its -origin and to the origin of the monarchy, at the very moment when -both the nobility and monarchy were coming to an end, even as an old -man returns to childhood. There were, moreover, brigades of Emigrant -officers of different regiments, who had also become soldiers: among -these were my messmates of Navarre, with their colonel, the Marquis -de Mortemart, at their head. I was strongly tempted to enlist with -La Martinière, even though he should still be in love; but Armorican -patriotism won the day. I enrolled myself in the seventh Breton -Company, commanded by M. de Goyon-Miniac[80]. The nobles of my province -had furnished seven companies; to these was added an eighth consisting -of young men of the Third Estate: the steel-grey uniform of this -last company differed from that of the others, which was royal blue -with ermine facings. Men attached to the same cause and exposed to -the same dangers perpetuated their political inequalities by odious -distinctions: the true heroes were the plebeian soldiers, since no -consideration of personal interest entered into the sacrifice they made. - -Enumeration of our little army: - -Infantry of gentlemen-soldiers and officers; four companies of -deserters, dressed in the different uniforms of the regiments -from which they came; one company of artillery; a few officers of -engineers, with some guns, howitzers, and mortars of various calibres -(the artillery and engineers, almost all of whom embraced the cause -of the Revolution, achieved its success across the borders). A very -fine cavalry, consisting of German carabineers, musketeers under -the command of the old Comte de Montmorin and naval officers from -Brest, Rochefort, and Toulon, supported our infantry. The wholesale -emigration of these last-named officers plunged naval France back into -the condition of weakness from which Louis XVI. had extricated it. -Never since the days of Duquesne and Tourville[81] had our squadrons -covered themselves with more glory. My comrades were delighted: I had -tears in my eyes when I saw pass before them those ocean dragons, who -no longer commanded the ships with which they had humbled the English -and delivered America. Instead of going in search of new continents to -bequeath to France, these companions of La Pérouse sank into the mud of -Germany. They rode the horse dedicated to Neptune; but they had changed -their element, and the land was not for them. In vain their commander -carried at their head the tattered ensign of the _Belle-Poule_, the -sacred relic of the White Flag, from whose shreds honour still hung, -but victory had fallen. - -We had tents; we lacked all beside. Our muskets, of German make, -trumpery weapons and frightfully heavy, broke our shoulders, and were -often not in a condition to be fired. I went through the whole campaign -with one of these firelocks, the hammer of which refused to fall. - -We remained two days at Trèves. It was a great pleasure to me to see -Roman ruins after having seen the nameless ruins of Ohio, to visit that -town so often sacked, of which Salvianus[82] said: - -"O fugitives from Trèves, you ask again for theatres, you demand a -circus of the princes: for what State, I pray you; for what people, for -what city? _Theatra igitur quæritis, circum a principibus postulatis? -Cui, quæso, statut, cui populo, cui civitati?_" - -Fugitives from France, where was the people for which we wished to -restore the monuments of St. Louis? - -I sat down, with my musket, among the ruins; I took from my knapsack -the manuscript of my travels in America; I arranged the separate sheets -on the grass around me; I read over and corrected a description of a -forest, a passage of _Atala_, in the fragments of a Roman amphitheatre, -preparing in this way to make the conquest of France. Then I put away -my treasure, the weight of which, combined with that of my shirts, my -cloak, my tin can, my wicker bottle, and my little Homer, made me throw -up blood. - -I tried to stuff _Atala_ into my cartridge-box with my useless -ammunition; my comrades made fun of me, and pulled at the sheets which -stuck out on either side of the leather cover. Providence came to my -rescue: one night, after sleeping in a hay-loft, I found, when I woke, -that my shirts were no longer in my sack; the thieves had left the -papers. I praised God: that accident assured my "fame" and saved my -life, for the sixty pounds that pressed upon my shoulders would have -driven me into a consumption. - -"How many shirts have I?" asked Henry IV. of his body-servant. - -"One dozen, Sire, and some of them are torn." - -"And of handkerchiefs, is it not eight that I have?" - -"There are only five left now." - -The Bearnese won the Battle of Ivry[83] without shirts; the loss of -mine did not enable me to restore his kingdom to his descendants. - -* - -We received orders to march on Thionville. We did five to six leagues -a day. The weather was terrible; we tramped through the rain and -slush singing, _Ô Richard! ô mon roi!_ and _Pauvre Jacques!_[84] On -arriving at the encamping-place, having neither wagons nor provisions, -we went with donkeys, which followed the column like an Arab caravan, -to hunt for food in the farms and villages. We paid for everything -scrupulously; nevertheless I had to do fatigue duty for taking two -pears from the garden of a country-house without thinking. A great -steeple, a great river and a great lord are bad neighbours, says the -proverb. - -We pitched our tents at random, and were constantly obliged to beat the -canvas in order to flatten out the threads and prevent the water from -coming through. We were ten soldiers to every tent; each in turn took -charge of the cooking: one went for meat, another for bread, another -for wood, another for straw. I made wonderful soup; I received great -compliments on it, especially when I mixed milk and cabbage with the -stew, in the Breton way. I had learnt among the Iroquois not to mind -smoke, so that I bore myself bravely before my fire of green and damp -boughs. This soldier's life is very amusing; I imagined myself still -among the Indians. As we sat at mess in our tent my comrades asked me -for tales of my travels; they told me some fine stories in return; -we all lied like a corporal in a tavern, with a conscript paying the -reckoning. - -One thing tired me: washing my linen; it had to be done, and often, -for the obliging robber had left me only one shirt, borrowed from -my cousin Armand, besides the one on my back. When I lay soaping my -stockings, my pocket-handkerchiefs and my shirt by the edge of a -stream, with my head down and my loins up, I was seized with fits of -giddiness; the motion of the arms gave me an unbearable pain in the -chest. I was obliged to sit down among the horsetails and watercress; -and, in the midst of the stir of war, I amused myself by watching the -water flow peacefully past. Lope de Vega[85] makes a shepherdess wash -the bandage of Love; that shepherdess would have been very useful to me -for a little birch-cloth turban which my Floridans had given me. - -An army is generally composed of soldiers of nearly the same age, the -same height, the same strength. Very different was ours, a jumbled -gathering of grown men, old men, children fresh from the dovecot, -jabbering Norman, Breton, Picard, Auvergnat, Gascon, Provençal, -Languedocian. A father served with his sons, a father-in-law with his -son-in-law, an uncle with his nephews, a brother with a brother, a -cousin with a cousin. This _arrière ban_, ridiculous as it appeared, -had something honourable and touching about it, because it was animated -with sincere convictions; it presented the spectacle of the old -monarchy and afforded a last glimpse of a dying world. I have seen old -noblemen, with stern looks, grey hair, torn coats, knapsack on back, -musket slung over the shoulder, drag themselves along with a stick and -supported by the arm by one of their sons; I have seen M. de Boishue, -the father of my schoolfellow killed at the States of Rennes in my -sight, march solitary and sad, with his bare feet in the mud, carrying -his shoes at the point of his bayonet for fear of wearing them out; -I have seen young wounded men lie under a tree, while a chaplain, in -surtout and stole, knelt by their side, sending them to St. Louis, -whose heirs they had striven to defend. The whole of this needy band, -which received not a sou from the Princes, made war at its own expense, -while the decrees finished despoiling it and threw our wives and -mothers into prison. - -The old men of former times were less unhappy and less lonely than -those of to-day: if, in lingering upon earth, they had lost their -friends, there was but little changed around them besides; they -were strangers to youth, but not to society. Nowadays, a lagger in -this world has witnessed the death not only of men, but of ideas: -principles, manners, tastes, pleasures, pains, opinions, none of these -resemble what he used to know. He belongs to a race different from that -among which he ends his days. - -[Sidenote: Old France.] - -And yet, O nineteenth-century France, learn to prize that old France -which was as good as you. You will grow old in your turn and you will -be accused, as we were accused, of clinging to obsolete ideas. The -men whom you have vanquished are your fathers; do not deny them, you -are sprung from their blood. Had they not been generously faithful -to the ancient traditions, you would not have drawn from that native -fidelity the energy which has been the cause of your glory in the new -traditions: between the old France and the new, all that has happened -is a transformation of virtue. - -* - -Near our poor and obscure camp was another which was brilliant and -rich. At the staff, one saw nothing but wagons full of eatables, met -with none save cooks, valets, aides-de-camp. Nothing could have better -reproduced the Court and the provinces, the monarchy expiring at -Versailles and the monarchy dying on Du Guesclin's heaths. We had grown -to hate the aides-de-camp; whenever there was an engagement outside -Thionville, we shouted, "Forward, the aides-de-camp!" just as the -patriots used to shout, "Forward, the officers!" - -I felt a chill at my heart when, arriving one dark day in sight of -some woods that lined the horizon, we were told that those woods were -in France. To cross the frontier of my country in arms had an effect -upon me which I am unable to convey. I had, as it were, a sort of -revelation of the future, inasmuch as I shared none of my comrades' -illusions, either with regard to the cause they were supporting or the -thoughts of triumph with which they deluded themselves: I was there -like Falkland[86] in the army of Charles I. There was not a Knight of -the Mancha, sick, lame, wearing a night-cap under his three-cornered -beaver, but was most firmly convinced of his ability, unaided, to -put fifty young and vigorous patriots to flight. This honourable and -agreeable pride, at another time the source of prodigies, had not -attacked me: I did not feel so sure of the strength of my invincible -arm. - -We reached Thionville unconquered on the 1st of September; for we had -met nobody on the road. The cavalry encamped to the right, the infantry -to the left of the high-road running from the town towards Germany. -The fortress was not visible from the camping-ground, but, six hundred -paces ahead, one came to the ridge of a hill whence the eye swept the -Valley of the Moselle. The mounted men of the navy joined the right of -our infantry to the Austrian corps of the Prince of Waldeck[87], while -the left of the infantry was covered by 1800 horse of the Maison-Rouge -and Royal German Regiments. We entrenched our front with a fosse, -along which the arms were stalked in line. The eight Breton companies -occupied two intersecting streets of the camp, and below us was dressed -the company of the Navarre officers, my former messmates. - -When these field-works, which took three days, were completed, Monsieur -and the Comte d'Artois arrived; they reconnoitred the place, which -was called upon in vain to surrender, although Wimpfen[88] seemed -willing to do so. Like the Grand Condé[89], we had not won the Battle -of Rocroi, and so we were not able to capture Thionville; but we were -not beaten under its walls, like Feuquières[90]. We took up a position -on the high-road, at the end of a village which formed a suburb of the -town, outside the horn-work which defended the bridge over the Moselle. -The troops fired at each other from the houses; our post remained in -possession of those which it had taken. I was not present at this first -action. Armand, my cousin, was there and behaved well. While they were -fighting in the village, my company was requisitioned to establish a -battery on the skirt of a wood which capped the summit of a hill. Along -the slope of this hill, vineyards ran down to the plain joining the -outer fortifications of Thionville. - -[Sidenote: The siege of Thionville.] - -The engineer directing us made us throw up a gazoned cavalier for -our guns; we drew a parallel open trench to place us below the -cannon-balls. These earthworks took long in making, for we were all, -young officers and old alike, unaccustomed to wield the mattock and -spade. We had no wheelbarrows and carried the earth in our coats, which -we used as sacks. Fire was opened on us from a lunette; it was the -more irksome to us in that we were unable to reply: eight-pounders and -a Cohorn howitzer, which was outranged, formed all our artillery. The -first shell we fired fell outside the glacis and aroused the jeers of -the garrison. A few days later, we were joined by some Austrian guns -and gunners. One hundred infantry men and a picket of the naval cavalry -were relieved at this battery every twenty-four hours. The besieged -prepared to attack it; we could distinguish a movement on the rampart -through the telescope. When night fell, we saw a column issue through -a postern and reach the lunette under shelter of the covert way. My -company was ordered up as a reinforcement. - -At daybreak, five or six hundred patriots began operations in the -village, on the high-road above the town; then, turning to the left, -they came through the vineyards to take our battery in flank. The -sailors charged bravely, but were overthrown and unmasked us. We were -too badly armed to return the fire; we pushed forward with fixed -bayonets. The attacking party retreated, I know not why; had they held -their ground, they would have wiped us out. - -We had several wounded and a few dead, among others the Chevalier de La -Baronnais[91], captain of one of the Breton companies. I brought him -ill-luck: the bullet which took his life ricochetted against the barrel -of my musket and struck him with such force as to pierce both his -temples; his brains were scattered over my face. Noble and unnecessary -victim of a lost cause! When the Maréchal d'Aubeterre[92] held the -States of Brittany, he went to M. de La Baronnais, the father, a -poor nobleman, living at Dinard, near Saint-Malo. The Marshal, who -had begged him to invite nobody, saw, on entering, a table laid for -twenty-five, and scolded his host in friendly fashion. - -"Monseigneur," said M. de La Baronnais, "I have only my children to -dinner." - -M. de La Baronnais had twenty-two boys and a girl, all by the same -mother. The Revolution reaped this rich family harvest before it was -ripe. - -* - -Waldeck's Austrian corps began operations. The attack became livelier -on our side. It was a fine spectacle at night: fire-pots lit up the -works of the place covered with soldiers; sudden gleams struck the -clouds or the blue firmament when the guns were fired, and the bombs, -crossing each other in the air, described a parabola of light. In -the intervals between the reports, one heard drums rolling, gusts of -military music, and the voices of the sentries on the ramparts of -Thionville and at our own posts; unfortunately, they called out in -French in both camps: - -"_Sentinelles, prenez garde à vous!_ All's well!" - -When the fighting took place, at dawn, it would happen that the lark's -morning hymn followed upon the sound of musketry, while the guns, -which had ceased firing, silently stared at us, with gaping mouths, -through the embrasures. The song of the bird, recalling the memories of -pastoral life, seemed to utter a reproach to mankind. It was the same -when I came across some dead bodies in the middle of fields of lucerne -in flower, or by the edge of a stream of water which bathed the hair of -the slain. In the woods, at a few steps from the stress of war, I found -little statues of the Saints and the Virgin. A goat-herd, a neat-herd, -a beggar carrying his wallet knelt beside these peace-makers, telling -their beads to the distant sound of cannon. A whole township once came -with its minister to present flowers to the patron of a neighbouring -parish, whose image dwelt in a wood, opposite a spring. The curate was -blind: a soldier in God's army, he had lost his sight in doing good -works, like a grenadier on the battlefield. The vicar administered -communion for his curate, because the latter could not have laid the -consecrated wafer upon the lips of the communicants. During this -ceremony, and from the depths of night, he blessed the light! - -Our fathers believed that the patrons of the hamlets, John "the -Silent[93]," Dominic "Loricatus[94]," James "Intercisus[95]," Paul -"the Simple[96]," Basil "the Hermit[97]," and so many others, were no -strangers to the triumph of the arms which protect the harvests. On the -very day of the Battle of Bouvines[98], robbers broke into a convent -dedicated to St. Germanus[99] at Auxerre, and stole the consecrated -vessels. The sacristan went to the shrine of the blessed bishop and -said plaintively: - -"Germanus, where wert thou when those thieves dared to violate thy -sanctuary?" - -A voice issuing from the shrine replied: - -"I was near Cisoing, not far from Bouvines Bridge; together with other -saints, I was helping the French and their King, to whom a brilliant -victory has been given by our aid: _cui fuit auxilio victoria præstita -nostro._" - -* - -[Sidenote: Fierce fighting.] - -We beat the plain and pushed as far as the hamlets lying under the -first entrenchments of Thionville. The village on the high-road -crossing the Moselle was constantly being captured and recaptured. I -took part in two of these assaults. The patriots abused us as "enemies -of liberty," "aristocrats" and "Capet's satellites." We called them -"brigands," "murderers," "traitors" and "revolutionaries." Sometimes -we stopped fighting while a duel took place in the midst of the -combatants, who became impartial seconds: O strange French character, -which even passions were unable to stifle! - -One day, I was on patrol in a vineyard; twenty paces from me was an -old sporting nobleman who banged the muzzle of his musket against the -vine-stocks, as though to start a hare, and then looked sharply round, -in the hope of seeing a "patriot" leap out: every one had brought his -own habits with him. - -Another day, I went to visit the Austrian camp. Between the camp and -that of the naval cavalry, a wood spread its screen, against which the -place was directing an inexpedient fire; the town was shooting too -much, it believed us to be more numerous than we were, which explains -the pompous bulletins of the commander of Thionville. While crossing -this wood, I saw something move in the grass: a man lay stretched at -full length with his nose against the ground, showing only his broad -back. I thought he was wounded: I took him by the nape of the neck and -half lifted his head. He opened a pair of terror-struck eyes and raised -himself a little upon his hands. I burst out laughing: it was my cousin -Moreau! I had not seen him since our visit to Madame de Chastenay. - -He had lain flat on his stomach to escape a bomb, and found it -impossible to get up again. I had all the difficulty in the world to -set him on his legs; his paunch was three times its former size. He -told me that he was serving on the commissariat, and that he was on his -way to offer some oxen to the Prince of Waldeck. In addition to this, -he carried a rosary. Hugues Métel[100] tells of a wolf which resolved -to embrace the monastic condition, but which, failing to accustom -itself to the fasting diet, became a canon. - -As I returned to camp, an officer of engineers passed close by me, -leading his horse by the bridle; a cannon-ball struck the animal in -the narrowest part of the neck and cut it right off; the head and neck -remained hanging in the officer's hand and dragged him to the ground -with their weight. I had seen a bomb fall in the middle of a ring of -naval officers who were sitting eating in a circle. The mess-platter -disappeared; the officers, tumbling head over heels and run, as it -were, on a sand-bank, shouted like the old sea captain: - -"Fire starboard guns, fire larboard guns, fire all guns, fire my wig!" - -These singular shots seem to pertain to Thionville. In 1558, François -de Guise[101] laid siege to the place. Marshal Strozzi[102] was killed, -"while talking in the trenches to the aforesaid Sieur de Guise, who had -his hand on his shoulder at the time." - -* - -[Sidenote: Market in camp.] - -A sort of market had been formed behind our camp. The peasants had -brought octaves of white Moselle wine, which remained on the wagons: -the horses were taken out and ate fastened to one end of the cart, -while the soldiers drank at the other end. Here and there gleamed the -fires of ovens. Sausages were fried in pans, hasty puddings boiled -in basins, pancakes tossed on iron dishes, puffcakes swollen out on -hampers. Cakes flavoured with aniseed, rye loaves at one sou, maize -cakes, green apples, red and white eggs, pipes and tobacco were sold -under a tree from whose branches hung coarse cloth great-coats, for -which the passers-by haggled. Village women, seated astride portable -stools, milked cows, while each presented his cup to the dairy-woman -and waited his turn. Before the stoves roamed cutlers in smocks and -soldiers in uniform. The canteen-women went about crying aloud in -German and French. There were groups standing, others seated at deal -tables planted askew on the uneven ground. One sought shelter at -random under a packing cloth or under branches cut in the forest, as -on Palm Sunday. I believe also that there were weddings in the covered -wagons, in memory of the Frankish kings. The patriots could easily have -followed Majorian's[103] example and carried away the bride's chariot: -_Rapit esseda victor, nubentemque nurum._[104] All sang, laughed, -smoked. The scene was extremely gay at night, between the fires which -lit up the earth and the stars shining overhead. - -When I was neither on guard at the batteries nor on duty in the tent, -I liked supping at the fair. There the stories of the camp were told -again; but under the influence of liquor and good cheer they became -much finer. One of our fellows, a brevet-captain, whose name I have -forgotten in that of "Dinarzade" which we gave him, was famous for -his yarns; it would have been more correct to say "Scheherazade," but -we were not so careful as that. As soon as we saw him, we ran up to -him, fought for him: we vied with each other as to who should have him -on his score. Short of body, long of leg, with sunk cheeks, drooping -mustachios, eyebrows forming a comma at the outer angle, a hollow -voice, a huge sword in a coffee-coloured scabbard, the carriage of a -soldier poet, something between the suicide and the jolly dog, that -solemn wag Dinarzade never laughed, and it was impossible to look at -him without laughing. He was the necessary second in all the duels and -the lover of all the barmaids. He viewed all he said on the dark side, -and interrupted his recitals only to take a pull at a bottle, relight -his pipe, or swallow a sausage. - -One night, when it was drizzling, we were seated round the tap of a -wine-cask tilted towards us in a cart with its shafts in the air. -A candle stuck on the cask lighted us; a piece of packing-cloth, -stretched from the end of the shafts to two posts, served us for a -roof. Dinarzade, with his sword awry after the manner of Frederic II., -stood between one of the wheels and a horse's crupper, telling a story -to our great content. The canteen-women who brought us our rations -stayed with us to listen to our Arab. The attentive group of bacchantes -and Silenuses which formed the chorus accompanied the narrative with -marks of its surprise, approval, or disapproval. - -"Gentlemen," said the story-teller, "you all knew the Green Knight, who -lived in the days of King John[105]?" - -Every one said: - -"Yes, yes." - -Dinarzade swallowed down a rolled pancake, burning himself as he did so. - -"This Green Knight, gentlemen, as you know, since you have seen him, -was very good-looking: when the wind blew back his ruddy locks over -his casque, it looked like a twist of tow round a green turban." - -The audience: "Bravo!" - -[Sidenote: Dinarzade's tales.] - -"One evening in May, he sounded his horn at the draw-bridge of a castle -in Picardy, or Auvergne, no matter which. In that castle lived "the -Lady of Great Companies." She welcomed the knight, told her servants -to disarm him and lead him to the bath, and came and sat with him at a -splendid table; and the pages-in-waiting were mute." - -The audience: "Oh, oh!" - -"The lady, gentlemen, was tall, flat, lean, and shambling, like the -major's wife; otherwise she had plenty of expression and an arch look. -When she laughed and showed her long teeth beneath her stumpy nose, one -did not know what one was about. She fell in love with the knight and -the knight with her, although he was afraid of her." - -Dinarzade emptied the ashes of his pipe on the rim of the wheel and -wanted to refill his cutty; they made him continue: "The Green Knight, -utterly dumfoundered, resolved to leave the castle; but, before taking -his leave, he asked the lady of the keep for an explanation of many -strange things; at the same time he made her an offer of marriage, -always provided she was not a witch." - -Dinarzade's rapier was planted stiff and straight between his knees. -Seated and leaning forward with our pipes, we made a garland of -fire-flakes beneath him, like Saturn's ring. Suddenly Dinarzade -shouted, as though beside himself: - -"Well, gentlemen, the Lady of Great Companies was Death!" - -And the captain, breaking the ranks and shouting "Death! Death!" put -the canteen-women to flight. The meeting was closed: the uproar was -great, the laughter prolonged. We approached Thionville amid the roar -of the cannon of the place. - -* - -The siege continued, or rather, there was no siege, for the trenches -were not opened, and troops were wanting to invest the place regularly. -We reckoned on receiving intelligence, and waited for news of the -successes of the Prussian Army or of Clerfayt's[106] Army, with which -was the French corps of the Duc de Bourbon. Our scanty supplies were -becoming exhausted; Paris seemed to draw farther away. The bad weather -never ceased; we were flooded in the midst of our works; I sometimes -woke in a trench with water up to my neck: the next day, I was a -cripple. - -Among my fellow-Bretons I had met Ferron de La Sigonnière[107], my old -class-fellow at Dinan. We slept badly under our tent; our heads went -beyond the canvas and received the rain from that sort of gutter. I -would get up and go with Ferron to walk in front of the stacked arms; -for all our evenings were not so gay as those with Dinarzade. We walked -in silence, listening to the voices of the sentries, looking at the -lights of our streets of tents as we had formerly watched the lamps -in the passages at our college. We discussed the past and the future, -the mistakes that had been made, those that would still be made; we -deplored the blindness of our Princes, who imagined that they could -return to their country with a handful of adherents and consolidate the -crown on their brother's head with the aid of the foreigner. I remember -saying to my friend, in the course of these conversations, that France -wished to imitate England, that the King would perish on the scaffold, -and that our expedition before Thionville would probably be one of the -principal counts in the indictment of Louis XVI. Ferron was struck by -my prophecy: it was the first I ever made. Since that time, I have -made many others quite as true, quite as unheeded: when the accident -occurred, the others took shelter and left me to struggle with the -misfortune which I had foreseen. When the Dutch encounter a squall -on the open sea, they retreat to the interior of the ship, close the -hatches, and drink punch, leaving a dog on deck to bark at the storm; -the danger past, Trust is sent back to his kennel in the hold, and the -captain returns to enjoy the fine weather on the quarter-deck. I have -been the Dutch dog of the Legitimist ship. - -The memories of my life as a soldier have engraved themselves upon -my thoughts; I have related them in the sixth book of the _Martyrs._ -Armorican barbarian in the Princes' camp as I was, I carried Homer with -my sword; I preferred "my country, the poor, small isle of Aaron, to -the hundred cities of Crete." I said with Telemachus: - -"The harsh country which only feeds goats is dearer to me than those in -which horses are reared[108]." - -My words would have brought a smile to the lips of the warlike -Menelaus: άγάθος Μενἐλαος. - - -The rumour spread that we were at last coming to action; the Prince of -Waldeck was to attempt an assault while we were to cross the river and -make a diversion by a feint attack on the place from the French side. - -[Sidenote: My company.] - -Five Breton companies, including mine, the company of the Picardy -and Navarre officers, and the regiment of volunteers, composed of -young Lorraine peasants and of deserters from various regiments, were -ordered up for duty. We were to be supported by the Royal Germans, -the squadrons of musketeers and the different corps of dragoons which -covered our left: my brother was with this cavalry with the Baron de -Montboissier, who had married a daughter of M. de Malesherbes, sister -to Madame de Rosanbo, and therefore aunt to my sister-in-law. We -escorted three companies of Austrian artillery with heavy guns and a -battery of three mortars. - -We started at six o'clock in the evening; at ten we crossed the -Moselle, above Thionville, on a coppered pontoon bridge: - - Amæna fluenta - Subterlabentis tacito rumore Mosellæ[109]. - -At daybreak, we were drawn up in order of battle on the left bank, with -the heavy cavalry in echelons on both flanks, and the light cavalry -in front. At our second movement, we formed in column and began to -defile. At about nine o'clock, we heard a volley fired on our left. -A carabineer officer came dashing up at full speed to tell us that -a detachment of Kellermann's army was about to join issue with us, -and that the action had already begun between the skirmishers. The -officer's horse had been struck by a bullet on the forehead; it reared, -with the foam streaming from its mouth and the blood from its nostrils: -the carabineer, seated sword in hand on this wounded horse, was superb. -The corps which had come out of Metz manœuvred to take us in flank: -they had field-pieces with them, whose fire reached our volunteer -regiment. I heard the exclamations of some recruits struck by the -cannon-balls; the last cries of youth snatched living from life gave me -a feeling of profound pity: I thought of the poor mothers. - -The drums beat the charge, and we rushed in disorder upon the enemy. -We came so close that the smoke did not prevent us from seeing the -terrible expression on the faces of men ready to shed your blood. The -patriots had not yet acquired the assurance that comes from the long -habit of fighting and victory. Their movements were slack, they felt -their way; fifty grenadiers of the Old Guard would have made head -against an heterogeneous mass of undisciplined nobles, old and young: -ten to twelve hundred foot-soldiers were taken aback by a few gun-shots -from the Austrian heavy artillery; they retreated; our cavalry pursued -them for two leagues. - -A deaf-and-dumb German girl, called Libbe, or Libba, had become -attached to my cousin Armand and had followed him. I found her sitting -on the grass, which stained her dress with blood: her elbow rested -on her upturned knees; her hand, passed through her tangled yellow -tresses, supported her head. She wept as she looked at three or four -killed men, new deaf-mutes, lying around her. She had not heard the -clap of the thunderbolts of which she saw the effect, nor could she -hear the sighs which escaped her lips when she looked at Armand; she -had never heard the sound of the voice of him she loved, and she would -not hear the first cry of the child she bore in her womb: if the grave -contained only silence, she would not know that she had sunk into it. - -For that matter, fields of slaughter lie on every hand: in the Eastern -Cemetery[110] in Paris, twenty-seven thousand tombstones, two hundred -and thirty thousand corpses, will show you the extent of the battle -which death wages day and night at your doors. - -[Sidenote: The assault of Thionville.] - -After a somewhat long halt, we resumed our march, and arrived under the -walls of Thionville at nightfall. The drums did not beat; the word of -command was given in a whisper. The cavalry, in order to repulse any -sortie, stole along the roads and hedges to the gate which we were to -cannonade. The Austrian artillery, protected by our infantry, took up -a position at fifty yards from the advanced works, behind a hastily -thrown-up epaulement of gabions. At one o'clock on the morning of the -1st of September, a rocket, sent up from the Prince of Waldeck's camp -on the other side of the place, gave the signal. The Prince commenced a -smart fire, to which the town made a vigorous reply. We began to fire -forthwith. - -The besieged, not thinking that we had troops on that side, and not -foreseeing this assault, had left the southern ramparts unprotected; we -did not lose for waiting: the garrison armed a double battery, which -penetrated our epaulements and dismounted two of our guns. The sky was -aflame; we were shrouded in torrents of smoke. I behaved like a little -Alexander: weakened by fatigue, I fell sound asleep, almost under the -wheels of the gun-carriage where I was on guard. A shell, bursting six -inches off the ground, sent a splinter into my right thigh. I awoke -with the shock, but felt no pain, and perceived only by my blood that I -was wounded. I bound up my thigh with my hand-kerchief. In the affair -on the plain, two bullets had struck my knapsack during a wheeling -movement. _Atala_, like a devoted daughter, placed herself between her -father and the lead of the enemy: she had still to withstand the fire -of the Abbé Morellet[111]. - -At four o'clock in the morning, the Prince of Waldeck's fire ceased: we -thought the town had surrendered; but the gates were not opened, and we -had to think of retiring. We returned to our positions, after a tiring -march of three days. - -The Prince of Waldeck had gone as far as the edge of the ditches, which -he had tried to cross, hoping to bring about a surrender by means of -the simultaneous attack: divisions were still supposed to exist in the -town, and we flattered ourselves that the Royalist party would bring -the keys to the Princes. The Austrians, having fired in barbette, lost -a considerable number of men; the Prince of Waldeck had an arm shot -off. While a few drops of blood flowed under the walls of Thionville, -blood was flowing in torrents in the prisons of Paris: my wife and -sisters were in greater danger than I. - -* - -We raised the siege of Thionville and set out for Verdun, which had -been restored to the Allies on the 2nd of September. Longwy, the -birthplace of François de Mercy[112], had fallen on the 23rd of August. -Wreaths and festoons of flowers bore evidence on every side of the -passage of Frederic William. Among the peaceful trophies, I observed -the Prussian Eagle affixed to Vauban's[113] fortifications: it was -not to stay there long; as to the flowers, they were soon to see the -innocent creatures who had gathered them fade away like themselves. One -of the most atrocious murders of the Terror was that of the young girls -of Verdun. - - "Fourteen young girls of Verdun," says Riouffe[114], "of - unexampled purity, who had the air of young virgins decked - for a public festival, were led together to the scaffold. - They disappeared suddenly and were gathered in their - springtime; the 'Court of Women,' on the morrow of their - death, looked like a garden-plot stripped of its flowers by a - storm. Never have I witnessed such despair as that which this - act of barbarity excited among us." - -Verdun is famous for its female sacrifices. According to Gregory of -Tours[115], Deuteric, to protect his daughter from the prosecution of -Theodebert[116], placed her in a cart drawn by two untamed oxen and had -her flung into the Meuse. The instigator of the massacre of the young -girls of Verdun was the regicide poetaster Pons de Verdun[117], who was -infuriated against his native city. The number of agents of the Terror -supplied by the _Almanach des Muses_ is incredible; the unsatisfied -vanity of the mediocrities produced as many revolutionaries as the -wounded pride of the cripples and abortions: a revolt analogous to -that of the infirmities of mind and body. Pons attached the point of a -dagger to his blunt epigrams. Faithful, as it seemed, to the traditions -of Greece, the poet was willing to offer none save the blood of virgins -to his gods: for the Convention decreed, on his motion, that no woman -with child could be put on her trial. He also caused the sentence to -be annulled condemning Madame de Bonchamps to death, the widow of the -celebrated Vendean general[118]. Alas, we Royalists in the train of the -Princes attained the reverses of the Vendée without passing through its -glory! - -We had not at Verdun, to pass the time, "that famous Comtesse de -Saint-Balmont[119], who laid aside her female apparel, mounted -on horseback, and herself served as an escort to the ladies who -accompanied her or whom she had left in her chariot..." We had no -passion for "old Gallic," nor did we write "notes in the language of -Amadis[120]." - -The Prussian evil[121] communicated itself to our little army: I caught -it. Our cavalry had gone to join Frederic William at Valmy. We knew -nothing of what was happening, and were hourly expecting the order to -march forward: we received the order to beat a retreat. - -[Sidenote: I am weakened by my wound.] - -Very greatly weakened, and prevented by my troublesome wound from -walking without pain, I dragged myself as best I could in the wake of -my company, which soon dispersed. Jean Balue[122], son of a miller at -Verdun, left his father's house at a very early age with a monk, who -burdened him with his wallet. On leaving Verdun, "Ford Hill" according -to Saumaise[123], _ver dunum_, I carried the wallet of the Monarchy, -but I did not become Comptroller of Finance, nor a bishop or cardinal. - -If, in the novels which I have written, I have drawn upon my own -history, in the histories which I have told I have placed memories of -the living history in which I took part. Thus, in my life of the Duc -de Berry[124], I described some of the scenes which took place before -my eyes: - - "When an army is disbanded, it returns to its homes; but had - the soldiers of Condé's Army any homes? Whither was the stick - to lead them which they were hardly permitted to cut in the - forests of Germany, after laying down the musket which they - had taken up in defense of their King?... - - "The time had come to part. The brothers-in-arms bade each - other a last farewell, and took different roads on earth. - All, before setting out, went to salute their father and - captain, white-haired old Condé: the patriarch of glory gave - his blessing to his children, wept over his dispersed tribe, - and saw the tents of his camp fall with the grief of a man - witnessing the destruction of his ancestral roof[125]." - - -Less than twenty years later, the leader of the new French Army, -Bonaparte, also took leave of his companions: so quickly do men and -empires pass, so little does the most extraordinary renown save one -from the most common destiny! - -We left Verdun. The rains had broken up the roads; everywhere one saw -ammunition-wagons, gun-carriages, cannon stuck in the mire, chariots -overturned, cutler-women with their children on their backs, soldiers -dying or dead in the mud. Crossing a ploughed field, I sank down to -my knees; Ferron and another comrade dragged me out despite myself: I -begged them to leave me there; I had rather died. - -On the 16th of October, at the camp near Longwy, the captain of my -company, M. de Goyon-Miniac, handed me a very honourable certificate. -At Arlon, we saw a file of wagons with their teams on the high-road: -the horses, some standing, others kneeling down, others with their -noses on the ground, were dead, and their bodies had grown stiff -between the shafts: it was as though one saw the shades of a -battlefield bivouacking on the shores of Styx. - -Ferron asked me what I meant to do, and I answered that, if I could go -as far as Ostend, I would take ship for Jersey, where I should find my -uncle de Bedée; from there I should be able to join the Royalists in -Brittany. - -[Sidenote: And catch the smallpox.] - -The fever was sapping my strength; I could only with difficulty support -myself on my swollen thigh. I felt a new ailment lay hold of me. After -twenty-four hours' vomiting, my face and body were covered with an -eruption: confluent smallpox broke out; it appeared to be affected by -the temperature of the air. In this condition, I set out on foot to -make a journey of two hundred leagues, rich as I was to the extent -of eighteen livres Tournois: all this for the greater glory of the -Monarchy. Ferron, who had lent me my six small crowns of three francs, -left me, he having arranged to be met in Luxembourg. - -* - -As I was leaving Arlon, a peasant took me up in his cart for the sum of -four sous, and put me down five leagues farther on a heap of stones. I -hopped a few paces with the aid of my crutch, and washed the bandage -round my scratch, which had developed into a sore, in a spring rustling -by the roadside, which did me a great deal of good. The smallpox had -come quite out, and I felt relieved. I had not abandoned my knapsack, -the straps of which cut my shoulders. - -I spent that first night in a barn, and had nothing to eat. The wife -of the farmer who owned the barn refused payment for my lodging. At -daybreak she brought me a great basin of coffee and milk, with a black -loaf which I thought excellent. I resumed my road quite merrily, -although I often fell. I was joined by four or five of my comrades, -who carried my knapsack; they were also very ill. We met villagers; -by taking cart after cart we covered a sufficient distance in the -Ardennes, in five days, to reach Attert, Flamizoul, and Bellevue. On -the sixth day I found myself alone. My smallpox had grown paler and was -less puffy. - -After walking two leagues, which took me six hours, I saw a gipsy -family encamped behind a ditch around a furze fire, with two goats -and a donkey. I had no sooner reached them than I let myself drop to -the ground, and the strange creatures hastened to succour me. A young -woman in rags, lively, dark, and mischievous, sang, leaped, skipped -around, holding her child aslant upon her breast, as though it were a -hurdy-gurdy with which she was enlivening her dance; she next squatted -on her heels close by my side, examined me curiously by the light of -the fire, took my dying hand to tell me my fortune, and asked me for "a -little sou:" it was too dear. It would be difficult to possess more -knowledge, charm, and wretchedness than my sybil of the Ardennes. I -do not know when the nomads, of whom I should have been a worthy son, -left me; they were not there when I woke from my torpor at dawn. My -fortune-teller had gone away with the secret of my future. In exchange -for my "little sou," she had laid by my head an apple which served to -refresh my mouth. I shook myself, like John Rabbit, among the "thyme" -and the "dew"; but I was not able to "browse," nor to "trot," nor to -cut many "pranks[126]." Nevertheless, I rose with the intention of -"paying my court to Aurora:" she was very beautiful and I very ugly; -her rosy face proclaimed her good health; she was better than the poor -Cephalus[127] of Armorica. Although both of us young, we were old -friends, and I imagined that her tears that morning were shed for me. - -I penetrated into the forest, feeling not too sad; solitude had -restored me to my own nature. I hummed the ballad by the ill-fated -Cazotte[128]: - - Tout au beau milieu des Ardennes, - Est un château sur le haut d'un rocher[129]. - -Was it not in the donjon of this ghostly castle that Philip II. King -of Spain imprisoned my fellow-Breton, Captain La Noue[130], who had a -Chateaubriand for his grand-mother? Philip consented to release the -illustrious prisoner if the latter consented to have his eyes put out; -La Noue was on the point of accepting the proposal, so great was his -longing to return to his dear Brittany. Alas! I was possessed with the -same desire, and to lose my sight I needed only the ailment with which -it had pleased God to afflict me. I did not meet "Sir Enguerrand coming -from Spain[131]," but poor wretches, small pedlars who, like myself, -carried their whole fortune on their back. A wood-cutter, with felt -knee-caps, entered the woods: he should have taken me for a dead branch -and cut me down. A few carrion crows, a few larks, a few buntings, a -kind of large finches, hopped along the road or stood motionless on the -border of stones, watchful of the sparrow-hawk which hovered circling -in the sky. From time to time, I heard the sound of the horn of the -swine-herd watching his sows and their little ones acorning. I rested -in a shepherd's movable hut; I found no one at home except Puss, who -made me a thousand graceful caresses. The shepherd was standing a long -way off, in the centre of a common pasture, with his dogs sitting at -irregular distances around the sheep; by day that herdsman gathered -simples: he was a doctor and a wizard; by night, he watched the stars: -then he was a Chaldean shepherd. - -[Sidenote: A weary journey.] - -I stood still, half a league farther, in a pasturage of deer: hunters -went by at the other end. A spring murmured at my feet; at the bottom -of this spring Orlando (Inamorato, not Furioso) saw a palace of crystal -filled with ladies and knights. If the paladin, who joined the dazzling -water-nymphs, had at least left Golden Bridle[132] at the brink of the -well; if Shakespeare had sent me Rosalind and the Exiled Duke[133], -they would have been very helpful to me. - -After taking breath I continued my road. My impaired ideas floated -in a void that was not without charm; my old phantoms, having scarce -the consistency of shades three parts effaced, crowded round me to -bid me farewell. I had no longer the power of memory; I beheld at -an indeterminate distance the aerial forms of my relations and my -friends, mingled with unknown figures. When I sat down to rest against -a mile stone, I thought I saw faces smile to me in the threshold of -the distant cabins, in the blue smoke escaping from the roofs of the -cottages, in the tree-tops, in the transparency of the clouds, in the -luminous sheaves of the sun dragging its beams over the heather like a -golden rake. These apparitions were those of the Muses coming to assist -the poet's death: my tomb, dug with the uprights of their lyres under -an oak of the Ardennes, would have fairly well suited the soldier and -the traveller. Some hazel-hens, which had strayed into the forms of -the hares under the privets, alone, with the insects, produced a few -murmurs around me: lives as slender, as unknown, as my life. I could -walk no farther; I felt extremely ill; the smallpox was turning in and -choking me. - -Towards the end of the day, I lay down on my back, in a ditch, with -Atala's knapsack under my head, my crutch by my side, my eyes fixed -upon the sun, whose light was going out with my own. I greeted in all -gentleness of thought the luminary which had lighted my first youth on -my paternal moors: we retired to rest together, he to rise in greater -glory, I, according to all appearances, never to wake again. I fainted -away in a feeling of religion: the last sounds I heard were the fall of -a leaf and the whistling of a bullfinch. - -* - -It seems that I lay unconscious for nearly two hours. The wagons of the -Prince de Ligne[134] happened to pass; one of the drivers, stopping to -cut a birch twig, stumbled over me without seeing me: he thought me -dead and pushed me with his foot; I gave a sign of life. The driver -called his comrades and, prompted by an instinct of pity, they threw -me into a cart. The jolting revived me; I was able to talk to my -deliverers; I told them that I was a soldier of the Princes' Army, and -that if they would take me as far as Brussels, where I was going, I -would reward them for their trouble. - -"All right, mate," said one of them, "but you'll have to get down at -Namur, for we're forbidden to carry anybody. We'll take you up again -t'other side of the town." - -I asked for something to drink; I swallowed a few drops of brandy, -which threw the symptoms of my disease out again and relieved my chest -for a moment: nature had endowed me with extraordinary strength. - -We reached the suburbs of Namur at ten o'clock in the morning. I got -down and followed the waggons at a distance; I soon lost sight of -them. I was stopped at the entrance to the town. I sat down under the -gateway, while my papers were being examined. The soldiers on guard, -seeing my uniform, offered me a scrap of ammunition bread, and the -corporal handed me some peppered brandy in a blue glass drinking-cup. -I made some ceremony about drinking out of the cup of military -hospitality: - -"Catch hold!" he exclaimed angrily, accompanying his injunction with a -_Sackerment der Teufel!_ - -My passage through Namur was a laborious one: I walked leaning against -the houses. The first woman who saw me left her shop, gave me her arm -with a pitying air, and helped me to drag myself along. I thanked her, -and she replied: - -"No, no, soldier," - -Soon other women came running up, bringing bread, wine, fruit, milk, -soup, old clothes, blankets. - -"He is wounded," said some, in their Brabançon French dialect. - -"He has the smallpox," cried others, and kept back their children. - -"But, young man, you will not be able to walk; you will die if you do; -stay in the hospital." - -[Sidenote: The women of Namur.] - -They wanted to take me to the hospital, they relieved each other from -door to door, and in this way helped me to the gate of the town, -outside which I found the wagons again. You have seen a peasant-woman -succour me; you shall see another woman show me hospitality in -Guernsey. Women who have aided me in my distress, if you be still -living, may God help you in your old age and in your sorrows! If you -have departed this life, may your children share the happiness which -Heaven has long refused me! - -The women of Namur assisted me to climb into the wagon, recommended me -to the driver's care, and compelled me to accept a woollen blanket. -I noticed that they treated me with a sort of respect and deference: -there is something superior, something delicate, in the nature of -Frenchmen which other nations recognise. - -The Prince de Ligne's men put me down for the second time on the road -just outside Brussels, and refused to accept my last crown-piece. In -Brussels, not one inn-keeper was willing to take me in. The wandering -Jew, the popular Orestes, whom the ballad represents as going to that -town: - - Quand il fut dans la ville - De Bruxelle en Brabant[135], - -met with a better reception than I, for he had always five sous in his -pocket. I knocked: they opened; when they saw me they said, "Move on, -move on!" and shut the door in my face. I was driven out of a café. My -hair hung over my face, hidden behind my beard and mustachios; I had a -hay bandage round my thigh; over my tattered uniform I wore the blanket -of the Namur women, knotted round my throat by way of a cloak. The -beggar in the _Odyssey_ was more insolent, but not so poor as I. - -I had at first presented myself to no purpose at the hotel where I had -stayed with my brother: I made a second attempt; as I approached the -door I saw the Comte de Chateaubriand stepping from a carriage with -the Baron de Montboissier. He was alarmed at my spectral appearance. -They looked for a room outside the hotel, for the proprietor absolutely -refused to admit me. A wig-maker offered me a den suited to my -wretchedness. My brother brought me a surgeon and a doctor. He had -received letters from Paris: M. de Malesherbes invited him to return -to France. He told me of the day's work of the 10th of August, the -massacres of September, and the political news, of which I knew not -a word. He approved of my plan to cross to Jersey, and advanced me -twenty-five louis. My impaired sight hardly permitted me to distinguish -my brother's features; I believed that that gloom emanated from myself, -whereas it was the shadow which Eternity was spreading around him: -without knowing it, we were seeing each other for the last time. All of -us, such as we are, have only the present moment for our own: the next -belongs to God; there are always two chances of not seeing again the -friend who is leaving us: our death and his. How many men have never -reclimbed the staircase they have descended! - -Death touches us more before than after the decease of a friend: -it is a piece of ourselves that is torn away, a world of childish -recollections, of familiar intimacy, of affections and interests in -common, that dissolves. My brother preceded me in my mother's womb; he -was the first to dwell in those same sainted entrails whence I issued -after him; he sat before me by the paternal hearth; he waited several -years to welcome me, to give me my name in the Name of Jesus Christ, -and to ally himself with the whole of my youth. My blood, mingled with -his blood in the revolutionary receptacle, would have had the same -savour, like a draught of milk supplied by the pasturage of the same -mountain. But, if men caused the head of my elder, my god-father, -to fall before its time, the years will not spare mine; already my -forehead is shedding its covering; I feel an Ugolino, Time, stooping -over me and gnawing at my skull: - - ... come'l pan perf ame si manduca[136]. - -The doctor could not recover from his astonishment: he looked upon -that which did not kill me, which came to none of its natural crises, -as a phenomenon unprecedented in the history of medicine. Gangrene had -set in in my wound; they dressed it with quinine. Having obtained this -first aid, I insisted on departing for Ostend. Brussels was hateful to -me, I burned to leave it; it was once again filling with those heroes -of domesticity who had returned from Verdun in their carriages, and -whom I did not see in Brussels when I accompanied the King there during -the Hundred Days. - -[Sidenote: I reached Guernsey.] - -I travelled pleasantly to Ostend by the canals: I found some Bretons -there, my comrades-in-arms. We chartered a decked barge and went down -the Channel. We slept in the hold, on the shingle which served as -ballast. The strength of my constitution was at last exhausted. I could -no longer speak; the motion of a rough sea broke me down completely. -I swallowed scarce a few drops of water and lemon, and, when the bad -weather compelled us to put in to Guernsey, they thought I was going to -breathe my last: an emigrant priest read me the prayers for the dying. -The captain, not wishing to have me die on board his ship, ordered me -to be put down on the quay; they set me down in the sun, with my back -leaning against a wall, and my head turned towards the open sea, facing -that Isle of Alderney where, eight months before, I had beheld death in -another shape. - -It would seem that I was vowed to pity. The wife of an English pilot -happened to pass by; she was moved and called her husband, who, -assisted by two or three sailors, carried me into a fisherman's house: -me, the friend of the waves; they laid me on a comfortable bed, between -very white sheets. The young barge-woman took every possible care of -the stranger: I owe her my life. The next day I was taken on board -again. My hostess almost wept on taking leave of her patient: women -have a heaven-born instinct for misfortune. My fair-haired and comely -guardian, who resembled a figure in the old English prints, pressed -my bloated and burning hands between her own, so cool and long; I was -ashamed to touch anything so charming with anything so unseemly. - -We set sail and reached the westernmost point of Jersey. One of my -companions, M. du Tilleul, went to St. Helier's to my uncle. M. de -Bedée sent a carriage to fetch me the next morning. We drove across the -entire island: dying as I was, I was charmed with its groves; but I -only talked nonsense about them, having fallen into a delirium. - -I lay four months between life and death. My uncle, his wife, his son -and his three daughters took it in turns to watch by my bedside. I -occupied an apartment in one of the houses which they were beginning to -build along the harbour: the windows of my room came down to the level -of the floor, and I was able to see the sea from my bed. The doctor, -M. Delattre, had forbidden them to talk to me of serious things, and -especially of politics. Towards the end of January 1793, seeing my -uncle enter my room in deep mourning, I trembled, for I thought we had -lost one of our family: he informed me of the death of Louis XVI. I was -not surprised: I had foreseen it. I asked for news of my relatives: -my sisters and my wife had returned to Brittany after the September -massacres; they had had great difficulty in leaving Paris. My brother -had gone back to France, and was living at Malesherbes. I began to get -up; the smallpox was gone; but I suffered with my chest, and a weakness -remained which I long retained. - -Jersey, the Cæsarea of the Itinerary of Antoninus[137], has remained -subject to the Crown of England since the death of Robert, Duke -of Normandy[138]; we have often tried to capture it, but always -unsuccessfully. The island is a remnant of our early history: the -saints coming to Brittany-Armorica from Hibernia and Albion rested at -Jersey. St. Hélier[139], a solitary, dwelt in the rocks of Cæsarea; he -was butchered by the Vandals. In Jersey, one finds a specimen of the -old Normans; it is as though one heard William the Bastard[140] speak, -or the author of the _Roman du Rou._ - -The island is fertile: it has two towns and twelve parishes; it is -covered with country-houses and herds of cattle. The ocean wind, which -seems to belie its rudeness, gives Jersey exquisite honey, cream -of extraordinary sweetness, and butter deep-yellow in colour and -violet-scented. Bernardin de Saint-Pierre conjectures that the apple -came to us from Jersey; he is mistaken: we have the apple and the pear -from Greece, as we owe the peach to Persia, the lemon to Media, the -plum to Syria, the cherry to Cerasus, the chestnut to Castanea, the -quince to Canea, and the pomegranate to Cyprus. - -[Sidenote: And Jersey.] - -I took great pleasure in going out in the early days of May. Spring in -Jersey preserves all her youth; she might still be called by her former -name of Primavera, a name which, as she grew older, it left to her -daughter, the first flower with which it crowns itself. - -* - -Here I will copy for you two pages from the Life of the Duc de Berry; -it is as though I told you my own: - - "After twenty-two years of fighting, the brazen barrier with - which France was girt about was forced: the hour of the - Restoration drew nigh; our Princes left their retreats. Each - of them made for a different point of the frontier, like - travellers who, at the risk of their lives, seek to penetrate - into a country of which marvels are related. Monsieur set out - for Switzerland; Monseigneur le Duc d'Angoulême for Spain, - and his brother for Jersey. In that island, in which some of - the judges of Charles I. died unknown to their fellow-men, - Monseigneur le Duc de Berry found French Royalists grown old - in exile and forgotten for their virtues, as in former days - the English regicides for their crime. He met old priests, - henceforth consecrated to solitude; he realized with them the - fiction of the poet who makes a Bourbon land on the island - of Jersey after a storm. One of these confessors and martyrs - might say to the heir of Henry IV., as the hermit of Jersey - said to that great king: - - Loin de la cour alors, dans cette grotte obscure - De ma religion je viens pleurer l'injure[141]. - -"Monseigneur le Duc de Berry spent some months in Jersey; the sea, the -winds, politics bound him there. Everything opposed his impatience; he -found himself on the point of renouncing his enterprise and taking ship -for Bordeaux. A letter from him to Madame la Maréchale Moreau gives us -a vivid idea of his occupations on his rock: - - "'8 _February_ 1814. - - "'Here I am like Tantalus, in sight of that unhappy France - which finds so much difficulty in breaking its chains. - You whose soul is so beautiful, so French, can judge of - my feelings; how much it would cost me to move away from - that shore which I should need but two hours to reach! - When the sun lights it, I climb the tallest rocks and, - with my spy-glass in my hand, I follow the whole coast: - I can see the rocks of Coutances. My imagination rises, - I see myself leaping on shore, surrounded by Frenchmen, - wearing the white cockade in their hats; I hear the cry of - 'Long live the King!' that cry which no Frenchman has ever - heard with composure; the loveliest woman of the province - girds me with a white sash, for love and glory always go - together. We march on Cherbourg; some rascally fort, with a - garrison of foreigners, tries to defend itself: we carry it - by assault, and a vessel puts out to fetch the King, with - the White Ensign which recalls the days of France's glory - and happiness! Ah, madame, when removed by but a few hours - from so likely a dream, can one think of betaking himself - elsewhere!'" - -* - -It is three years since I wrote these pages in Paris; I had gone before -M. le Duc de Berry in Jersey, the city of the exiled, by twenty-two -years; I was to leave my name behind me, since Armand de Chateaubriand -was married, and his son Frédéric born there[142]. - -Gaiety had not abandoned the family of my uncle de Bedée; my aunt -continued to nurse a big dog, descended from the one whose virtues I -have related: as it bit everybody and had the mange, my cousins had -it secretly hanged, notwithstanding its nobility. Madame de Bedée -persuaded herself that some English officers, charmed with Azor's -beauty, had stolen it, and that it was living, laden with honours and -dinners, in the richest castle of the Three Kingdoms. Alas, our present -hilarity was compounded only out of our past gaiety! By recalling the -scenes at Monchoix we found means of laughter in Jersey. The case is -rare enough, for in the human heart pleasures do not keep up the same -relations one to the other that sorrows do: new joys do not restore -their springtime to former joys, but recent sorrows cause old sorrows -to blossom over again. - -For the rest, the Emigrants at that time excited general sympathy; -our cause appeared to be the cause of European order: an honoured -unhappiness, such as ours, is something. - -M. de Bouillon[143] was the protector of the French refugees in Jersey: -he dissuaded me from my plan of crossing over to Brittany, unfit as -I was to endure a life of caves and forests; he advised me to go -to England, and there seek the opportunity of entering the regular -service. My uncle, who was very ill provided with money, began to feel -straitened with his large family; he had found himself obliged to send -his son to London to feed himself on starvation and hope. Fearing lest -I should be a burden to M. de Bedée, I decided to relieve him of my -presence. - -[Sidenote: I set sail for England.] - -Thirty louis, which a Saint-Malo smuggler brought me, enabled me to -put my plan into execution, and I booked a berth on the packet for -Southampton. I was deeply touched, on bidding farewell to my uncle: he -had nursed me with the affection of a father; with him were connected -the few happy moments of my childhood; he knew all I loved; I found -in his features a certain resemblance to my mother. I had left that -excellent mother, and was never to see her again; I had left my sister -Julie and my brother, and was doomed to meet them no more; I was -leaving my uncle, and his genial countenance was never again to gladden -my eyes. A few months had sufficed to bring all these losses, for the -death of our friends is not reckoned from the moment at which they die, -but from that at which we cease to live with them. - -Were it possible to say to Time, "Not so fast!" one would stop it at -the hours of delight; but, as this is not possible, let us not linger -here below; let us go away before witnessing the flight of friends -and of those years which the poet considers alone worthy of life: -_Vitâ dignior ætas._ That which delights us in the age of friendships -becomes an object of suffering and regret in the age of destitution. -We no longer desire the return of the smiling months to the earth; -we dread it rather: the birds, the flowers, a fine evening at the -end of April, a fine night commencing in the evening with the first -nightingale and ending in the morning with the first swallow, those -things which give the need and longing for happiness kill one. You -still feel their charms, but they are no longer for you: youth which -tastes them by your side, and which looks down upon you with scorn, -fills you with jealousy and makes you realize the completeness of your -desolation. The grace and freshness of nature, while recalling your -past happiness, adds to the unsightliness of your misery. You have -become a mere blot upon that nature; you spoil its harmony and its -suavity by your presence, by your words, and even by the sentiments -which you venture to express. You may love, but you can no longer be -loved. The vernal fountain has renewed its waters without restoring -your youth to you, and the sight of all that is born again, of all that -is happy, reduces you to the sorrowful remembrance of your pleasures. - -* - -The packet on which I embarked was crowded with Emigrant families. -I there made the acquaintance of M. Hingant[144], an old colleague -of my brother's in the Parliament of Brittany, a man of taste and -intelligence, of whom I shall have much to say. A naval officer was -playing chess in the captain's room; he did not recollect my features, -so greatly was I changed; but I recognised Gesril. We had not met -since Brest; we were destined to part at Southampton. I told him of -my travels, he told me of his. This young man, born near me among the -waves, embraced his first friend for the last time in the midst of the -waves which were about to witness his glorious death. Lamba Doria[145], -admiral of the Genoese, after beating the Venetian fleet, learnt that -his son had been killed: - -"Bury him in the sea," said this Roman father, as though he had said, -"Bury him in his victory." - -Gesril voluntarily left the billows into which he had flung himself -only the better to show them his "victory" on shore. - -[Sidenote: And land at Southampton.] - -I gave the certificate of my landing from Jersey at Southampton at the -commencement of the sixth book of these Memoirs. Behold me, therefore, -after my travels in the forests of America and the camps of Germany, -arriving, as a poor Emigrant, in 1793, in the land in which I am -writing all this in 1822, and in which I am living to-day a splendid -ambassador. - - - -[1] This book was written in London between April and September 1822, -and revised in February 1845 and December 1846.--T. - -[2] Georges Jacques Danton (1759-1794), perhaps the least contemptible -of the demagogues of the time.--T. - -[3] The National or Constituent Assembly passed the Constitution on -the 3rd of September 1791, the King accepting it on the 13th. This -Constitution created a Legislative Assembly, which alone was to retain -the power of making laws, subject to the veto of the Sovereign. On -the 30th of September the Constituent Assembly was dissolved and -immediately succeeded by the Legislative Assembly, which consisted of -745 deputies elected by the people, and sat from 1 October 1791 to -21 September 1792. It was in this assembly that the parties of the -Mountain and the Gironde were formed.--T. - -[4] Jean Claude Marin Victor Marquis de Laqueville (1742-1810) -commanded the corps of the nobles of Auvergne under the Comte d'Artois. -He was impeached on the 1st of January 1792. He returned to France -under the Consulate, and lived in retirement until his death.--B. - -[5] M. Buisson de La Vigne, a retired captain of the Indian Company's -fleet, had been ennobled in 1776.--B. - -[6] Alexis Jacques Buisson de La Vigne, the Indian Company's manager at -Lorient, married in 1770 Mademoiselle Céleste Rapion de La Placelière, -of Saint-Malo.--B. - -[7] Anne Buisson de La Vigne (1772-1813) married, in 1789, Hervé Louis -Joseph Marie Comte du Plessix de Parscau (1762-1831). She died at -Lymington in Hampshire, and is buried there with seven of her thirteen -children. In 1814, the Comte de Parscau married Mademoiselle de -Kermalun, a lady of forty, for the sake of the six young children left -to him.--B. - -[8] Knight of St. Louis.--T. - -[9] Céleste Buisson de La Vigne (1774-1847), who became Madame de -Chateaubriand.--B. - -[10] Michel Bossinot de Vauvert (1724-1809), formerly a king's counsel -and attorney to the Admiralty. He was an uncle, "Brittany fashion," of -Mademoiselle Buisson de La Vigne.--B. - -[11] George Gordon, sixth Lord Byron (1788-1824), the poet.--T. - -[12] Francis II. Emperor of Germany (1768-1835) ascended the Imperial -Throne in 1792. In 1808 he renounced his title and assumed that of -Emperor of Austria, as Francis I.--T. - -[13] Blessed Benedict Joseph Labre (1748-1783) had died, after a life -supported by unsolicited alms and spent in constant mortifications, of -a tumour in the leg resulting from his habit of being always upon his -knees.--T. - -[14] The Abbé Jean Jacques Barthélemy (1716-1795), Keeper of the -Royal Cabinet of Medals, member of the French Academy and the Academy -of Inscriptions, and a distinguished archæologist. In 1788 he -published his _Voyage du jeune Anacharsis en Grèce vers le milieu du -IVe. siècle avant l'ère vulgaire_, which made his name. He -spent the greater portion of his life with the Duc and Duchesse de -Choiseul on their estate of Chanteloup, near Amboise.--T. - -[15] Ange François Fariau (1747-1810), known as M. de Saint-Ange, -became a member of the French Academy just before his death. His -translations in verse of the _Metamorphoses_ and other of Ovid's works -are of great merit; but he appears to have been cursed with inordinate -vanity, in addition to the stupidity of which Chateaubriand speaks.--T. - -[16] Jacques Henri Bernardin de Saint-Pierre (1737-1814), the famous -author of the _Études de la nature_ and of _Paul et Virginie._ He -preached virtue in all his works; his personal character and conduct -were far from being irreproachable.--T. - -[17] 30 January 1791.--B. - -[18] - -"D'Egmont with Love one day this bank her presence gave; -For a moment the water stained -With the image of her beauty upon the fleeting wave: -Then D'Egmont disappeared; and Love alone remained.--T." - - -[19] By Carbon de Flins des Oliviers.--T. - -[20] - - "Our brave defenders' warlike zeal - Wakes pride within my breast, - But when through gore the people reel, - Their fury I detest. - Let Europe of us dwell in fear, - Let us live ever free, - But Gallic wit our lives shall cheer, - And amiability."--T. - - -[21] Anne Joseph Terwagne, Demoiselle Théroigne de Méricourt -(1762-1817), a formidable virago of the Revolution. She was fustigated -and driven insane by her fellow-bacchanals in October 1792, and died -mad at the Salpétrière.--T. - -[22] Manon Jeanne Roland (1754-1793), _née_ Philipon, wife of Jean -Marie Roland de La Platière, Minister of the Interior in 1791. She and -her husband espoused the party of the Girondins; and Madame Roland -was guillotined at the instance of the Mountain, 8 November 1793. Her -husband killed himself on hearing the news.--T. - -[23] Major the Comte de Belsunce (_d._ 1790). He was cut up into pieces -and his heart was eaten by a woman.--B. - -[24] Jérôme Pétion de Villeneuve (1759-1794) was elected mayor on the -14th of November 1791. He took no step to suppress the insurrections -of June and August 1792, nor the massacres of September. Having voted, -however, at the trial of Louis XVI. for "death with delay and appeal to -the people," he became odious to the revolutionaries and was proscribed -with the Girondins, 31 May 1793. He fled and perished in the Bordeaux -marshes, where his body was half eaten by wolves.--T. - -[25] Before 1789, Paris was divided into 21 quarters. On the 23rd -of April 1789 the King ruled that, for the convocation of the three -Estates, the town should be divided into 60 arrondissements, or wards, -and districts, for which, on the 27th of June 1790, the Constituent -Assembly substituted 48 sections.--B. - -[26] On the 17th of Germinal Year II. (6 April 1794) a citizen -presented himself at the bar of the Convention and offered a sum -of money "towards the expenses of the support and repairing of the -guillotine" (_Moniteur_, 7 April 1794).--B. - -[27] 23 March 1792.--B. - -[28] Francis II., Emperor of Germany, etc., etc.--T. - -[29] Maximin Isnard (1751-1825) voted for the death of the King, but, -after distinguishing himself by the violence of his language and -opinions, underwent a remarkable religious and political conversion. He -was a member of the Council of Five Hundred, but took no part in public -affairs after the advent of Bonaparte.--B. - -[30] Armand Gensonné (1758-1793), the friend and confidant of -Dumouriez, executed 31 October 1793.--T. - -[31] Jean Pierre Brissot de Warville (1754-1793), at one time editor of -the _Moniteur_ and of the _Patriote français_, and prime mover in the -declaration of war against Austria. He was guillotined on the same day -as Gensonné.--T. - -[32] The decree ordering the dissolution of the King's Constitutional -Guard was voted 29 May 1792.--B. - -[33] It was burnt down in 1580.--_Author's Note._ - -[34] Charles de Lorraine, Duc de Mayenne (1554-1611), second son of -François Duc de Guise, and head of the League.--T. - -[35] A political club connected with the League and called the Sixteen -from the number of its leading members, each of whom was put in charge -of one of the then sixteen quarters of Paris.--T. - -[36] Jean Paul Marat (1743-1793) was born either at Geneva or at -Boudry, near Neufchâtel, in Switzerland.--T. - -[37] Pierre Gaspard Chaumette (1763-1794), the inventor of the Feast of -Reason, self-known as "Anaxagoras Chaumette," and guillotined 13 April -1794.--T. - -[38] Méot kept the best tavern in Paris, in the Palais-Royal.--B. - -[39] Joseph Fouché, Duc d'Otrante (1754-1820), had been a schoolmaster -at Juilly and principal of the Oratorian College at Nantes, when he was -sent to the Convention. He became subsequently a Conservative senator -under Napoleon, a duke and a peer, and was Minister of Police under the -Directory, Napoleon, and Louis XVIII.--T. - -[40] Triboulet (1479-_circa_ 1536), Court Fool to Louis XII. and -Francis I.--T. - -[41] _Paradise Lost_, II. 790-814, in which Sin is represented as being -violated by her own offspring, Death.--T. - -[42] Jacques Louis David (1748-1825), the great painter of the -Revolution and the Empire.--T. - -[43] Philippe François Nazaire Fabre d'Églantine (1755-1794), a light -dramatic poet of no mean order, acted as Danton's secretary. He was -subsequently traduced for accepting bribes from the Indian Company, and -guillotined on the same day (5 April 1794) as Danton and Desmoulins, -who protested at being "coupled with a thief."--T. - -[44] Jacques Nicolas Billaud-Varenne (1756-1819), a very bloodthirsty -member of the Convention. Billaud was transported with Collot d'Herbois -to Cayenne, and succeeded in making his escape, after twenty years, -to the Republic of San Domingo, the President of which gave him a -pension.--T. - -[45] Felice Peretti, Pope Sixtus V. (1521-1590), was elected to the -Holy See on the death of Gregory XIII. in 1585. His short reign -was marked by a magnificent internal administration. In France he -patronized and encouraged the League.--T. - -[46] Jacques Clément (1564-1589), the Dominican monk who assassinated -Henry III. and was himself killed on the spot. It is a fact that some -of the extreme Leaguers called for his canonization.--T. - -[47] Charles IX. (1550-1574), elder brother and predecessor of Henry -III.--T. - -[48] 24 August 1572.--T. - -[49] King Charles I. (1600-1649) was murdered on the 30th of January -1649; King Louis XVI. on the 21st of January 1793.--T. - -[50] Antoine Quentin Fouquier-Tinville (1747-1795), Public Prosecutor -to the Revolutionary Tribunal, guillotined 6 May 1795.--T. - -[51] The blasphemy was not even accurate. Desmoulins was in his -thirty-fourth year.--T. - -[52] _Le Philinte de Molière, ou, la suite du Misanthrope_, a comedy -in five acts, in verse, first performed at the Théâtre Français on the -22nd of February 1790, is Fabre d'Églantine's best piece: it is one -of our good comedies of the second rank. What will live longest of -Fabre d'Églantine's is his ballad, "Il pleut, il pleut, bergère" ("O -shepherdess, 'tis raining").--B. - -[53] Barnabé Brisson (1531-1591), made First President of the -Parliament of Paris by the Sixteen (_vide supra_, p. 15), when Henry -III. had left the capital, instead of Achille de Harlay, whom they had -sent to the Bastille; but they were dissatisfied with him, owing to -the attachment he preserved for the royal authority, and eventually -murdered him by hanging him.--T. - -[54] Henri de Lorraine, Duc de Guise (1550-1588), nicknamed the -_Balafré_ from a disfiguring scar which he received at the engagement -of Dormans (1575). He was the son of François Duc de Guise, and brother -to the Duc de Mayenne (_vide supra_, p. 15) and Louis de Lorraine, -Cardinal de Guise. In 1576 he became the head of the newly formed -League. In 1588, after conducting a long and active opposition to the -Throne, he attended the States-General summoned by Henry III. at his -castle at Blois, and was murdered by the royal guards at the door of -the King's closet, 23 December 1588. His brother Louis II., Cardinal de -Guise, Archbishop of Rheims, was put to death by the King's orders on -the following day.--T. - -[55] Florio's MONTAIGNE, Booke III. chap. 12: _Of Physiognomy._--T. - -[56] Silas Deane (1737-1789), a member of the first American Congress, -was sent to Paris to rally the Court of France to the cause of the -insurgents. His negotiations were fruitless, and Franklin was sent to -second him. The latter was more successful, and signed two treaties -with the Cabinet of Versailles in February 1778.--B. - -[57] Joachim Murat (1767-1815), later King of Naples. He was the son of -an inn-keeper, enlisted at the commencement of the Revolution, and was -a member of the King's Constitutional Guard for about a month in the -spring of 1792. He was in command of the sixty grenadiers who dispersed -the Council of Five Hundred, and Bonaparte rewarded him with the hand -of his sister Caroline. When Bonaparte became Emperor, Murat received -his marshal's baton and the title of prince. In 1808, Napoleon made him -King of the Two Sicilies. He did not cross the Straits, but reigned -peacefully on the mainland until 1812. In 1814, the Powers consented -to leave him on the throne, but, declaring in favour of Napoleon on -his return from Elba, he was defeated at Tolentino, captured at Pizzo -in Calabria, and shot, by order of King Ferdinand II., on the 13th of -October 1815.--T. - -[58] Jean Marie Roland de La Platière (1734-1793), twice Minister -of the Interior, and husband of the more famous Madame Roland. -He committed suicide with a sword-stick on hearing of his wife's -execution.--T. - -[59] Louis François Duport du Tertre (1754-1793), Minister of the -Interior from 1790 to 1792, and guillotined 28 November 1793. His wife -committed suicide in despair a few days later.--T. - -[60] Louise Florence Pétronille de La Live d'Épinay (1725-1783), _née_ -Tardieu d'Esclavelles, wife of Denis Joseph de La Live d'Épinay, a rich -farmer-general. She built the Hermitage for Rousseau in the Forest of -Montmorency, ten miles north of Paris, and lavished benefits upon him. -Eventually, however, the philosopher grew jealous of Grimm, and turned -ungrateful for the favours shown him.--T. - -[61] Bernard Hugues Maret, Duc de Bassano (1763-1839). Bonaparte made -him Secretary-general to the Consuls, and, in 1804, Secretary of State, -in which capacity he accompanied the Emperor on all his campaigns. In -1811, he was created Duc de Bassano, and appointed Foreign Minister; in -1813, Minister for War. In 1815, he was exiled, returning to France in -1820. Louis Philippe made him a peer of France, and he held office for -less than a week in 1834.--T. - -[62] Bertrand Barère de Vieuzac (1755-1841), one of the meanest -turn-coats and time-servers of revolutionary France. He was exiled -on the Restoration, and returned to France on the usurpation of -Louis-Philippe.--T. - -[63] M. Boutin (_d._ 1794), Treasurer to the Navy, had built the Tivoli -garden in the middle of the Rue de Clichy. He was guillotined 22 July -1794.--T. - -[64] This is not accurate. Madame de Malesherbes was Françoise -Thérèse Grimod, daughter of Gaspard Grimod, Seigneur de La Reynière, -farmer-general. M. and Madame de Malesherbes were married on the 4th of -February 1749.--B. - -[65] Clovis I. (465-511), grandson of Merovius or Merowig, was the real -founder of the First or Merovingian Race of Kings of France (418-752). -The second was the Carlovingian Race or Dynasty (715-987); the third -the Capetians (987), who were subdivided into numerous branches, and -preserve their right to the French Throne to this day.--T. - -[66] Hildebert, Archbishop of Tours (_circa_ 1057-1134), author of a -number of Latin treatises, letters, and poems.--T. - -[67] Guillaume de Nangis (_d._ 1300), a Benedictine of Saint-Denis, -author of a Chronicle of the Kings of France, etc.--T. - -[68] Albéric, a Cistercian monk of the Abbey of Trois-Fontaines, near -Châlons-sur-Marne, who lived in the thirteenth century, and wrote a -Chronicle which goes from the Creation to 1241.--T. - -[69] Rigord, Rigordus, or Rigoltus (_d. circa_ 1207), author of a -History of Philip Augustus, in Latin, continued by Guillaume le -Breton.--T. - -[70] Gervase of Tilbury (_fl._ 1211), author of the _Otia -Imperialia._--T. - -[71] The Baron de Montboissier was Malesherbes' son-in-law, and uncle -by marriage to Chateaubriand's brother.--B. - -[72] Louis XI., King of France (1423-1479), who had incited the town -of Liège to revolt, was enticed to Péronne by Charles the Bold, Duke -of Burgundy, on the pretext of a conference, held as a prisoner, and -released only on condition that he accompanied the Duke to the siege of -the insurgent city.--T. - -[73] Pope Leo III. (_d._ 816), elected to the Papacy in 795, was -driven from Rome by a conspiracy to murder him, and took shelter with -Charlemagne. He consecrated the octagonal Cathedral of Aix in 799; and -in 800, in Rome, crowned Charles Emperor of the West.--T. - -[74] John Turpin, Archbishop of Rheims (_d. circa_ 794), Charlemagne's -secretary, friend, and comrade-in-arms. He was falsely reputed the -author of the be _Vitâ Caroli Magni et Rolandi_, popularly known as -Archbishop Turpin's Chronicle.--T. - -[75] Francesco Petrarca, known as Petrarch (1304-1374), tells the -legend in his poems.--T. - -[76] Caligula (12-41) was the son of Germanicus and Agrippina, at whose -instance Germanicus enlarged Cologne, calling it Colonia Agrippina.--T. - -[77] St. Bruno (_circa_ 1030-1101), founder of the Carthusian order, -was born at Cologne.--T. - -[78] Frederic William II., King of Prussia (1744-1797), nephew and -successor (1786) of Frederic the Great.--T. - -[79] Charles Frederick William, Duke of Brunswick-Lüneburg (1735-1806), -Commander-in-Chief of the allied Prussian and Austrian armies. He was -mortally wounded at the Battle of Auerstadt (14 October 1806), and was -the father of "Brunswick's fated chieftain" killed at Waterloo.--T. - -[80] Pierre Louis Alexandre de Gouyon (not Goyon) de Miniac (_circa_ -1754-1818).--B. - -[81] Anne Hilarion de Contentin, Comte de Tourville (1642-1701), a -famous French admiral; fought under Duquesne, commanded under the -Maréchal de Vivonne at Palermo (1677), went to Ireland in 1690 to -support the cause of James II., was defeated by the English at the -Battle of the Hogue (1692), but defeated them at the first Battle of -St. Vincent (1693).--T. - -[82] Salvianus (_circa_ 390-484), author of the treatises, _De -Gubernatione Dei, Adversus Avaritiam_, and some letters--T. - -[83] Henry IV. defeated the Leaguers at Ivry in 1590.--T. - -[84] Words and music by the Marquise de Travanet, _née_ de Bombelles, -lady to Madame Élisabeth.--B. - -[85] Lope Felix de Vega Carpia (1562-1635), the fertile Spanish poet, -author of the _Arcadia_ and some 2000 plays and an endless number of -poems of every description.--T. - -[86] Lucius Cary, second Viscount Falkland (1610-1643), Secretary of -State to Charles I. Although at first favouring the rebellion, he -joined the King's side and died fighting for Charles at Newbury.--T. - -[87] Christian Augustus Prince of Waldeck (1744-1798), fought for -Austria against the Turks and against the French, lost an arm at -the siege of Thionville, took part in the attack on the lines of -Weissemberg, replaced Mack, and went to Portugal, where he died.--T. - -[88] Louis Félix Baron de Wimpfen (1744-1814), a Royalist brigadier in -the Revolutionary service. He defended Thionville for fifty-five days, -until he was relieved by the victory of Valmy. He concealed himself -during the Terror. The Consulate restored him to his rank as general of -division, and Napoleon appointed him inspector of studs, and created -him a baron in 1809.--B. - -[89] Louis II. Prince de Condé (1621-1686), known as the Grand Condé, -captured Thionville in 1643, after first causing the Spaniards to raise -the siege of Rocroi, and signally defeating them on the 19th of May.--T. - -[90] Manassès de Pas, Marquis de Feuquières (1590-1639), besieged -Thionville in 1639, but was defeated by the garrison, and himself -wounded and taken prisoner. He died of his wounds a few months -later.--T. - -[91] The Chevalier de La Baronnais was one of the numerous sons of -François Pierre Collas, Seigneur de La Baronnais, married in 1750 -to Renée de Kergu. Chateaubriand is not quite accurate as to the -proportions of his family. There were twenty children in all, twelve -sons and eight daughters.--B. - -[92] Joseph Henri Bouchard d'Esparbès, Maréchal Marquis d'Aubeterre -(1714-1788), after fulfilling several important embassies, was -appointed Commandant of Brittany in 1775.--T. - -[93] St. John the Silent (454-_circa_ 589), so called from his love of -silence and retirement. At the age of twenty-eight he was consecrated -Bishop of Colonus, near Athens, but resigned his see in nine years, and -withdrew to the Monastery of St. Sabar in Jerusalem. His feast falls on -the 13th of May.--T. - -[94] St. Dominic Loricatus (_d._ 1060) spent his life in the Apennines, -wearing a coat of mail, which he laid aside only to scourge himself. He -is honoured on the 14th of October.--T. - -[95] St. James Intercisus (_d._ 421). Born in Persia, he at first -abjured Christianity in obedience to a decree of King Yezdedjerd I.; -but, repenting of his apostasy, he resumed the faith, and was condemned -to be cut to pieces while living, a martyrdom which he heroically -endured on the 27th of November 421. His feast is celebrated on the -anniversary of that day.--T. - -[96] St. Paul the Simple (229-342) retired at the age of twenty-two -to the Thebaïde Desert, where he became a disciple of St. Anthony and -lived for ninety-one years. He is honoured on the 7th of March.--T. - -[97] St. Basil the Hermit (_d._ circa 640), a native of Limousin, spent -forty years wrestling with the Evil One in a retreat which he had built -for himself in the neighbourhood of Verzy, in Champagne. His feast -falls on the 26th of November.--T. - -[98] Philip Augustus defeated the Emperor Otho IV. and his allies at -Bouvines, 27 August 1214.--T. - -[99] St. Germanus of Auxerre, Bishop of Auxerre (380-448), was Governor -of the province of Auxerre for the Emperor of the West, when he was -ordained priest by Amador, the bishop of the diocese, whom he succeeded -after the latter's death in 418. He visited England in 428 and 446 -to preach against the Pelagian heresy. He is honoured on the 26th of -July.--T. - -[100] Hugues Métel (1080-1157), a twelfth-century ecclesiastical -writer. The allusion is to an apologue entitled, _D'un loup qui se fit -hermite_, which stands at the head of the poems.--B. - -[101] François de Lorraine, Duc de Guise (1519-1563), one of the -greatest French captains, and leader of the Catholic army. He was -assassinated at the siege of Orléans by a Huguenot nobleman called -Poltrot de Méré.--T. - -[102] Pietro Strozzi (1550-1558), a marshal in the French service, and -commander-in-chief of the army of Pope Paul IV.--T. - -[103] Julius Majorianus, known as the Emperor Majorian (_d._ 461) -defeated Theodoric II., King of the Visigoths, in Gaul, and was about -to attack Genseric, King of the Vandals, in Africa, when he was deposed -and put to death by Ricimer, who had raised him to power.--T. - -[104] SIDONIUS APOLLINARIS.--_Author's Note._ - -[105] John II., King of France (1319-1364), known as John the Good, -taken prisoner at the Battle of Poitiers by Edward the Black Prince -(1356). Peace was concluded in 1360, and John returned to France, -leaving his son as a hostage. The latter escaped, and King John -voluntarily returned to London and surrendered, saying that "if good -faith was banished from the earth, it should find an asylum in the -hearts of kings." He died shortly after his arrival in London (8 April -1364).--T. - -[106] François Sébastien Charles Joseph de Croix, Comte de Clerfayt -(1733-1798), created, in 1795, a field-marshal in the Austrian Army. -He was a native of Brussels, at that time the capital of the Austrian -Netherlands, and was a very fine general. Not the least of his feats -was his masterly retreat after the Battle of Jemmapes (6 November -1792). In 1795, he defeated three French army corps in succession, and -relieved Mayence, which was besieged by one of them.--T. - -[107] François Prudent Malo Ferron de La Sigonnière (1768-1815).--B. - -[108] Cf. _Odyssey_, IV. 606.--T. - -[109] AUSONIUS, _Eidyllia_, CCCXXXIV. 21, _Ausonii Mosella._--T. - -[110] Now known as the cemetery of Père Lachaise.--T. - -[111] The Abbé André Morellet (1727-1819), a Member of the Academy, and -at one time a leading member of Madame Geoffrin's circle. His attacks -on Chateaubriand are mentioned later, when Chateaubriand speaks of the -publication of _Atala._--T. - -[112] Field-Marshal Franz Baron von Mercy (_d._ 1645), one of the great -generals of the seventeenth century. He took service under the Elector -of Bavaria, and distinguished himself in the German wars against -France. In 1645 he defeated Turenne at Mariendal, but was himself -beaten by Condé in the plains of Nördlingen (7 August 1645), and -received a wound of which he died the next day.--T. - -[113] Sébastien Le Prestre de Vauban (1633-1707), the famous French -engineer. Longwy was one of the many fortifications constructed by -Vauban along the German frontier. He was created a marshal in 1703 by -Louis XIV., who in 1693 had founded the order of St. Louis at Vauban's -instance.--T. - -[114] Honoré Jean Riouffe (1764-1813), created a baron of the Empire -in 1810; author of the _Mémoires d'un détenu, pour servir à l'histoire -de la tyrannie de Robespierre_, from which the above quotation is -taken.--B. - -[115] St. Gregory of Tours (_circa_ 540--_circa_ 594), Bishop of Tours, -and author of a _History of the Franks_ extending from 417 to 591.--T. - -[116] Theodebert I., King of Metz or Austrasia (_d._ 548).--T. - -[117] Philippe Laurent Pons (1759-1844), known as Pons de Verdun, -was, before the Revolution, a regular contributor to the _Almanach -des Muses._ He was sent to the Convention by the Meuse and voted for -the death of the King. As a member of the Council of Five Hundred, he -rallied to the cause of Bonaparte, and became advocate-general to the -Court of Appeal under the Empire.--B. - -[118] Artus de Bonchamp (1769-1793), mortally wounded outside Cholet -(17 October 1793).--T. - -[119] Alberte Barbe d'Ercecourt, Dame de Saint-Balmon (1608-1660), took -up arms during her husband's absence in the Thirty Years' War, and -defended her house against the marauders.--B. - -[120] Amadis of Gaul, hero of the famous prose romance written in the -fourteenth century by different authors, partly in Spanish, partly in -French.--T. - -[121] A loathsome form of vermin.--T. - -[122] Jean La Balue (1421-1491) became a bishop, Almoner to King -Louis XI., Intendant of Finance, and was for many years virtual Prime -Minister of France. He abolished the Pragmatic Sanction (1461), and was -created a cardinal by Pope Pius II. Subsequently he corresponded with -the King's enemies and (1469) was imprisoned by Louis XI. in an iron -cage, from which he was released only upon the King's death, eleven -years later. In 1484, Pope Innocent VIII. sent La Balue to France as -legate _in latere_; but he was so badly received that he was obliged to -return to Rome.--T. - -[123] Claude de Saumaise (1588-1658), known as Salmasius, or the Prince -of Commentators.--T. - -[124] Charles Ferdinand Duc de Berry (1778-1820), second son of the -Comte d'Artois, later Charles X., and father of the Duc de Bordeaux, -known later as Comte de Chambord and Henry V. The Duc de Berry was -assassinated by Louvel on leaving the Opera House in Paris, 6 February -1820.--T. - -[125] _Mémoires, lettres, et pièces authentiques touchant la vie et la -mort de S. A. R. Ch. F. d'Artois, fils de France, Duc de Berry_, II. -viii.--B. - -[126] LA FONTAINE'S _Fables_, book VII., fab. 16: _The Cat, the Weasel, -and the Young Rabbit_, 7-9.--T. - -[127] Cephalus of Thessaly, husband of Procris, and beloved by Aurora -because of his surpassing beauty.--T. - -[128] Jean Cazotte (1720-1792), the facile Royalist poet, author of the -_Veillée de la Bonne femme; ou, le Réveil d'Enguerrand_, which opens -with the lines quoted.--T. - -[129] - - "Right in the middle of the Ardennes - Stands a fine castle atop of a rock."--T. - - -[130] François de La Noue (1531-1591), nicknamed _Bras-de-Fer_, Iron -Arm, a famous Calvinist captain. Fighting at the head of the army of -the States-General against Spain, he was captured (1578) and kept -prisoner for five years in the fortresses of Limburg and Charlemont. He -was killed at the siege of Lamballe in Brittany, where he was sent by -Henry IV.--T. - -[131] CAZOTTE, _La Veillée de la Bonne femme_, supra.--T. - -[132] Orlando's famous steed.--T. - -[133] Most of the scenes in _As You Like It_ are laid in the Forest of -Arden.--T. - -[134] Charles Joseph Prince de Ligne (1735-1844), a Flemish general in -the Austrian service, famous for his wit, his personal graces, and his -military talent. Francis II. created him a field-marshal in 1808.--T. - -[135] - - "When he was in the town, - Brussels town in Brabant."--T. - - -[136] DANTE, _Inferno_, XXXVII. 127.--T. - -[137] Antoninus Pius, Emperor of Rome (86-161), author or originator of -the _Itinerarium Provinciarum._--T. - -[138] Robert II., Duke of Normandy (_circa_ 1056-1134), nicknamed -Robert Curthose, eldest son of William the Conqueror. He was defeated -by his brother, Henry I., at Tinchebray (1106), and imprisoned at -Cardiff Castle until his death in 1134.--T. - -[139] St. Helerius, hermit and martyr, patron saint of Jersey. His head -was cut off by pirates. His feast falls on the 16th of July.--T. - -[140] William I., the Conqueror, King of England (1027-1087), is -generally called William the Bastard by French writers. He was the -illegitimate son of Robert I. the Devil, Duke of Normandy, and Arlotta, -a washerwoman of Falaise.--T. - -[141] VOLTAIRE, L'_Henriade_: - - "Then, far removed from Court, to this obscure retreat, - I come to mourn the blows with which my creed has met."--T. - - -[142] Armand Louis de Chateaubriand married in Guernsey, 14 September -1795, Mademoiselle Jeanne le Brun, of Jersey; the young couple settled -in Jersey, where were born Jeanne (16 June 1796) and Frédéric (11 -November 1799).--B. - -[143] Philippe d'Auvergne, Prince de Bouillon (1754-1816), born in -Jersey, was the son of Charles d'Auvergne, a poor lieutenant in the -British Navy, and had been adopted by the Duc Godefroy de Bouillon, who -saw his race threatened with extinction. Philippe d'Auvergne devoted -himself whole-heartedly to the cause of his new fellow-countrymen in -their difficulties with the English governors of the island. His career -was one of inconceivable adventures, and his end, which occurred in -London, was mysterious.--B. - -[144] François Marie Anne Joseph Hingant de La Tiemblais (1761-1827). -No less than twenty-two members of his family suffered as victims -of their religious and political faith. He furnished Chateaubriand -with many of the materials for the _Génie du Christianisme_, and -himself published some valuable literary and scientific works -and an interesting novel (1826), entitled _Le Capucin, anecdote -historique._--B. - -[145] Lamba Doria defeated Andrea Dandola, the Venetian admiral, before -the island of Curzola, off the coast of Dalmatia, in 1298.--T. - - - - -BOOK VIII[146] - - -The Literary Fund--My garret in Holborn--Decline in health--Visit -to the doctors--Emigrants in London--Peltier--Literary labours--My -friendship with Hingant--Our excursions--A night in Westminster -Abbey--Distress--Unexpected succour--Lodging overlooking a -cemetery--New companions in misfortune--Our pleasures--My cousin -de La Boüétardais--A sumptuous rout--I come to the end of my forty -crowns--Renewed distress--Table d'hôte--Bishops-Dinner at the London -Tavern--The Camden Manuscripts--My work in the country--Death of -my brother--Misfortunes of my family--Two Frances--Letters from -Hingant--Charlotte--I return to London--An extraordinary meeting--A -defect in my character--The _Essai historique sur les révolutions_--Its -effect--Letter from Lemierre, nephew to the poet--Fontanes--Cléry. - - -A society has been formed in London for the assistance of men of -letters, both English and foreign. This society invited me to its -annual meeting[147]; I made it my duty to attend and to present my -subscription[148]. H.R.H. the Duke of York[149] occupied the chair; on -his right were the Duke of Somerset[150] and Lords Torrington[151] and -Bolton[152]; I myself sat on his left. I met my friend Mr. Canning[153] -there. The poet, orator, and illustrious minister made a speech in -which occurred the following passage, which did me too great honour, -and which was reported in the newspapers: - -"Although the person of my noble friend, the Ambassador of France, is -as yet but little known here, his character and writings are well known -to all Europe. He began his career by expounding the principles of -Christianity, and continued it by defending those of monarchy; and now -he comes amongst us to unite the two countries by the common bonds of -monarchical principles and Christian virtues[154]." - -* - -[Sidenote: The literary fund.] - -It is many years since Mr. Canning, the man of letters, improved -himself by the political lessons of Mr. Pitt[155]; it is almost the -same number of years since I began obscurely to write in that same -English capital. Both of us have attained high station and are now -members of a society devoted to the relief of unfortunate authors. Is -it the affinity of our grandeurs or the relation of our sufferings -that brought us together in this place? What should the Governor of -the East Indies and the French Ambassador be doing at the banquet -of the afflicted muses? It was rather George Canning and François -de Chateaubriand who sat down to it, in remembrance of their former -adversity and perhaps of their former happiness: they drank to the -memory of Homer singing his verses for a morsel of bread. - - -If the Literary Fund had existed when I arrived in London from -Southampton on the 21st of May 1793, it would perhaps have paid a -doctor's visit to the garret in Holborn in which my cousin de La -Boüétardais[156], son of my uncle de Bedée, harboured me. It had been -hoped that the change of air would do marvels towards restoring to me -the strength essential to a soldier's life; but my health, instead of -recovering, declined. My chest became involved; I was thin and pale, -I coughed frequently, I breathed with difficulty; I had attacks of -perspiration and I spat blood. My friends, who were as poor as I, -dragged me from doctor to doctor. These Hippocrates kept the band of -beggars waiting at their door, and then told me, for the price of one -guinea, that I must bear my complaint patiently, adding: - -"That's all, my dear sir." - -Dr. Goodwyn[157], famous for his experiments relating to drowning -people, made on his own person by his own prescriptions, was more -generous: he assisted me with his advice gratis; but he said to me, -with the harshness which he employed towards himself, that I might -"last" a few months, perhaps one or two years, provided I gave up all -fatigue. - -"Do not look forward to a long career:" that was the substance of his -consultations. - -The certainty of my approaching end thus acquired, while increasing the -natural gloom of my imagination, gave me an incredible peace of mind. -This inner disposition explains a passage of the note placed at the -head of the _Essai historique_[158], as well as the following passage -from the _Essai_ itself: - - "Smitten as I am with an illness which leaves me little hope, - I behold objects with a tranquil eye; the calm atmosphere of - the tomb is perceptible to the traveller who is but a few - days' march removed from it[159]." - -The bitterness of the reflections spread over the _Essai_ will -therefore arouse no astonishment: I wrote that work while lying under -sentence of death, between the verdict and the execution. A writer who -believed himself to be drawing near his end, amid the destitution of -his exile, could scarcely cast a smiling glance upon the world. - -But how to spend the days of grace that had been granted me? I might -have lived or died promptly by my sword: I was forbidden to use it. -What remained? A pen? It was neither known nor proved, and I was -ignorant of its power. Would my innate taste for letters, the poems of -my childhood, the sketches of my travels suffice to attract the public -attention? The idea of writing a work on the comparative Revolutions -had occurred to me; I turned it over in my mind as a subject more -suited to the interests of the day; but who would undertake the -printing of a manuscript with none to extol its merits, and who would -support me during the composition of that manuscript? Even if I had -but a few days to spend on earth, I must nevertheless have some means -of support for those few days. My thirty louis, already seriously -curtailed, could not go very far, and, in addition to my own distress, -I had to support the general distress of the Emigration. My companions -in London all had occupations: some had embarked in the coal trade, -others with their wives made straw hats, others again taught the French -which they did not know. They were all merry. The fault of our nation, -its frivolity, had at that moment changed into virtue. They laughed in -Fortune's face: that thieving wench was quite abashed at carrying off -something which she was not asked to restore. - -* - -[Sidenote: Peltier.] - -Peltier, author of the _Domine salvum fac regem_[160] and principal -editor of the _Actes des Apôtres_, continued his Parisian enterprise in -London. He was not precisely vicious: but he was devoured by a vermin -of small faults of which it was impossible to purify him; he was a -rake, a good-for-nothing, earned a great deal of money and spent it as -lavishly, was at the same time the adherent of the Legitimacy and the -ambassador of the black King Christophe[161] to George III., diplomatic -correspondent of M. le Comte de "Limonade," and drank up in champagne -the salary which was paid him in sugar[162]. This sort of M. Violet -playing the grand airs of the Revolution on a pocket violin came to see -me, and offered his services as a Breton. I spoke to him of my plan of -the _Essai_; he loudly approved of it: - -"It will be superb!" he exclaimed, and offered me a room in the house -of his printer, Baylis, who would print the work piece by piece as I -wrote it. - -Deboffe the bookseller should have the sale of it; he, Peltier, would -trumpet it in his paper, the _Ambigu_, while one might obtain a footing -in the London _Courrier français_, the editorship of which was soon to -be transferred to M. de Montlosier[163]. Peltier never entertained a -doubt: he spoke of getting me the Cross of St. Louis for my siege of -Thionville. My Gil Blas, tall, lean, lanky, with powdered hair and a -bald forehead, always shouting and joking, put his round hat on one -ear, took me by the arm, and carried me off to Baylis the printer, -where, without any ceremony, he hired a room for me at a guinea a month. - -I was face to face with my golden future; but how to bridge over the -present? Peltier obtained translations from the Latin and the English -for me; I worked at translating by day, and at night at the _Essai -historique_, into which I introduced a portion of my travels and my -day-dreams. Baylis supplied me with the books, and I laid out a few -shillings to ill purpose on the purchase of old volumes displayed on -the bookstalls. - -Hingant, whom I had met on the Jersey packet, had become intimate -with me. He cultivated literature, he was well informed, and he wrote -novels in secret and read me pages of them. He had a lodging not far -from Baylis, at the end of a street leading into Holborn. I breakfasted -with him every morning at ten o'clock; we talked about politics -and above all about my work. I told him how much I had built of my -nocturnal edifice, the _Essai_; then I reverted to my labour of the -daytime, the translations. We met for dinner, at a shilling a head, in -a public-house; thence we made for the fields. Often also we walked -alone, for we were both of us fond of musing. - -I would then direct my steps towards Kensington or Westminster. -Kensington pleased me; I wandered about its solitary part, while the -part adjacent to Hyde Park became filled with a brilliant multitude. -The contrast between my penury and the display of wealth, between my -destitution and the crowd, was pleasant to me. I watched the young -Englishwomen pass in the distance with that sense of desirous confusion -which my sylph had formerly caused me to feel when, after decking -her with all my extravagances, I scarce dared lift my eyes upon my -handiwork. Death, which I thought that I was approaching, added a -mystery to this vision of a world from which I had almost departed. Did -ever a look rest upon the foreigner seated at the foot of a fir-tree? -Did some fair woman divine the invisible presence of René? - -[Sidenote: A night in Westminster Abbey.] - -At Westminster I found a different pastime: in that labyrinth of tombs -I thought of mine ready to open. The bust of an unknown man like myself -would never find a place amid those illustrious effigies! Then appeared -the sepulchres of the monarchs: Cromwell[164] was there no longer, -and Charles I.[165] was not there. The ashes of a traitor, Robert of -Artois[166], lay beneath the flagstones which I trod with my loyal -steps. The fate of Charles I. had just been extended to Louis XVI.; the -steel was reaping its daily harvest in France, and the graves of my -kindred were already dug. - -The singing of the choir and the conversation of the visitors -interrupted my reflections. I was not able often to repeat my visits, -for I was obliged to give to the guardians of those who lived no more -the shilling which was necessary to me to live. But then I would turn -round and round outside the abbey with the rooks, or stop to gaze at -the steeples, twins of unequal height, which the setting sun stained -red with its fiery light against the black hangings of the smoke of the -City. - -One day, however, it happened that, wishing towards evening to -contemplate the interior of the basilica, I became lost in admiration -of its spirited and capricious architecture. Dominated by the sentiment -of the "dowdy vastitie of our churches[167]," I wandered with slow -footsteps and became benighted: the doors were closed. I tried to find -an outlet; I called the usher, I knocked against the doors: all the -noise I made, spread and spun out in the silence, was lost; I had to -resign myself to sleeping among the dead. - -After hesitating in my choice of a resting-place I stopped near Lord -Chatham's[168] mausoleum, at the foot of the rood and of the double -stair of Henry the Seventh's and the Knights' Chapel. At the entrance -to those stairs, to those aisles enclosed with railings, a sarcophagus -built into the wall, opposite to a marble figure of death armed with -its scythe, offered me its shelter. The fold of a winding-sheet, also -of marble, served me for a niche: following the example of Charles -V.[169], I inured myself to my burial. I was in the best seats for -seeing the world as it is. What a mass of greatnesses were confined -beneath those vaults! What remains of them? Afflictions are no less -vain than felicities: the hapless Jane Grey[170] is not different -from the blithe Alice of Salisbury[171] save that the skeleton is -less horrible because it has no head; her body is beautified by her -punishment and by the absence of that which constituted its beauty. -The tournaments of the victor of Crecy[172], the sports of the Field -of the Cloth of Gold of Henry VIII.[173] will not be renewed in that -theatre of funereal spectacles. Bacon[174], Newton[175], Milton[176] -are interred as deeply, have passed away as completely, as their more -obscure contemporaries. Should I, an exile, a vagabond, a pauper, -consent to be no longer the petty, forgotten, sorrowful thing that I am -in order to have been one of those famous, mighty, pleasure-sated dead? -Ah, life is not all that! If from the shores of this world we cannot -distinctly discern matters divine, let us not be astonished: time is a -veil set between ourselves and God, even as our eyelids are interposed -between our eyes and the light. - -[Sidenote: Reflections and release.] - -Crouching under my marble sheet, I descended from these lofty thoughts -to the simple impressions of the place and moment. My anxiety mingled -with pleasure was analogous to that which I used to experience in -winter in my turret at Combourg, as I listened to the wind: a breeze -and a shadow possess a kindred nature. Little by little I grew -accustomed to the darkness and distinguished the figures placed over -the tombs. I looked up at the vaults of this English Saint-Denis, -whence one might say that the years that have been and the issues of -the past hung down like Gothic lamps: the entire edifice was as it were -a monolithic temple of ages turned to stone. - -I had counted ten o'clock, eleven o'clock by the abbey clock: the -hammer rising and falling upon the bell-metal was the only living -creature in those regions beside myself. Outside, the sound of a -carriage, the voice of the watchman: that was all; those distant sounds -of earth reached me as though from one world to another. The fog from -the Thames and the smoke of coal crept into the basilica, and spread a -denser dusk around. - -At last a twilight spread out in a corner filled with the dimmest -shadows: with fixed gaze I watched the progressive growth of the light; -did it emanate from the two sons[177] of Edward IV., assassinated by -their uncle? The great tragedian says: - - "O thus," quoth Dighton, "lay the gentle babes,"-- - "Thus, thus," quoth Forrest, "girdling one another - Within their alabaster innocent arms: - Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, - Which, in their summer beauty, kiss'd each other[178]." - -God did not send me those two sad and charming souls; but the light -phantom of a scarcely adolescent woman appeared carrying a light -sheltered in a sheet of paper twisted shell-wise: it was the little -bell-ringer. I heard the sound of a kiss, and the bell tolled the break -of day. The ringer was quite terrified when I went out with her through -the gate of the cloisters. I told her of my adventure; she said she -had come to do duty for her father, who was sick: we did not speak of -the kiss. - -* - -I amused Hingant with the story of my adventure, and we made a plan to -lock ourselves in at Westminster; but our distress summoned us to the -dead in a less poetic manner. - -My funds were becoming exhausted: Baylis and Deboffe had ventured, -against a written promise of reimbursement in case of non-sale, to -commence the printing of the _Essai_; there their generosity ended, -and very naturally; I was even astonished at their boldness. The -translations fell off; Peltier, a man of pleasure, grew weary of his -prolonged obligingness. He would willingly have given me what he had, -if he had not preferred to squander it; but to go looking here and -there for work, to do patient acts of kindness, was beyond him. Hingant -also saw his treasure diminishing; we were reduced to sixty francs -between us. We cut down our rations, as on a vessel when the passage -is prolonged. Instead of a shilling apiece, we spent only sixpence on -our dinner. With our morning tea we reduced the bread by one half, -and suppressed the butter. This abstinence vexed my friend's nerves. -His wits went wool-gathering; he would prick his ears and seem to be -listening to some one; he would burst out laughing in reply, or shed -tears. Hingant believed in magnetism, and had disordered his brain with -Swedenborg's[179] rubbish. He told me in the morning that he had heard -noises during the night; if I denied his fancies he grew angry. The -anxiety which he caused me prevented me from feeling my own sufferings. - -These were great, nevertheless: that rigorous diet, combined with -the work, chafed my diseased chest; I began to find a difficulty in -walking, and yet I spent my days and a part of my nights out of doors, -so as not to betray my distress. When we came to our last shilling, -my friend and I agreed to keep it in order to make a pretense of -breakfasting. We arranged that we should buy a penny roll; that we -should have the hot water and the tea-pot brought up as usual; that we -should not put in any tea; that we should not eat the bread, but that -we should drink the hot water with a few little morsels of sugar left -at the bottom of the bowl. - -Five days passed in this fashion. I was devoured with hunger; I burned -with fever; sleep had deserted me; I sucked pieces of linen which I -soaked in water; I chewed grass and paper. When I passed the bakers' -shops, the torment I endured was horrible. One rough winter's night, -I stood for two hours outside a shop where they sold dried fruits and -smoked meats, swallowing all I saw with my eyes: I could have eaten -not only the provisions, but the boxes and baskets in which they were -packed. - -On the morning of the fifth day, dropping from inanition, I dragged -myself to Hingant's; I knocked at the door: it was closed. I called -out; Hingant was some time without answering: at last he rose and -opened the door. He laughed with a bewildered air; his frock-coat was -buttoned; he sat down at the tea-table. - -"Our breakfast is coming," he said in a strange voice. - -I thought I saw some stains of blood on his shirt; I suddenly -unbuttoned his coat: he had given himself a wound with a penknife, -two inches deep, in his left breast. I called out for help. The -maid-servant went to fetch a surgeon. The wound was dangerous. - -This new misfortune obliged me to take a resolution. Hingant, who was -a counsellor to the Parliament of Brittany, had refused to take the -salary which the English Government allowed the French magistrates, in -the same way that I had declined the shilling a day doled out to the -Emigrants: I wrote to M. de Barentin[180] and disclosed my friend's -position to him. Hingant's relations hurried to his assistance and -took him away to the country. At that very moment my uncle de Bedée -forwarded me forty crowns, a touching offering from my persecuted -family. I seemed to see all the gold of Peru before my eyes: the mite -of the French prisoners supported the exiled Frenchman. - -[Sidenote: Destitution.] - -My destitution had impeded my work. As I delivered no more manuscript, -the printing was suspended. Deprived of Hingant's company, I did not -keep on my room at Baylis' at a guinea per month; I paid the quarter -that was due and went away. Below the needy Emigrants who had served -as my first protectors in London were others who were even more -necessitous. There are degrees among the poor as among the rich; one -can go from the man who in winter keeps himself warm with his dog -down to him who shivers in his torn rags. My friends found me a room -more suited to my diminishing fortune: one is not always at the height -of prosperity! They installed me in the neighbourhood of Marylebone -Street, in a garret whose dormer window overlooked a cemetery: every -night the watchman's rattle told me of the proximity of body-snatchers. -I had the consolation to hear that Hingant was out of danger. - -Friends came to see me in my work-room. To judge from our independence -and our poverty, we might have been taken for painters on the ruins of -Rome; we were artists in wretchedness on the ruins of France. My face -served as a model, my bed as a seat for my pupils. The bed consisted of -a mattress and a blanket. I had no sheets; when it was cold my coat and -a chair, added to my blanket, kept me warm. I was too weak to make my -bed; it remained turned down as God had left it. - -My cousin de La Boüétardais, turned out of a low Irish lodging for not -paying his rent, although he had put his violin in pawn, came to ask me -for a shelter against the constable: a vicar from Lower Brittany lent -him a trestle-bed. La Boüétardais, like Hingant, had been a counsellor -to the Parliament of Brittany; he did not possess a handkerchief to -tie round his head; but he had deserted with bag and baggage, that is -to say, he had brought away his square cap and his red robe, and he -slept under the purple by my side. Jocular, a good musician with a fine -voice, on nights when we could not sleep he would sit up quite naked -on his trestles, put on his square cap, and sing ballads, accompanying -himself on a guitar with only three strings. One night when the poor -fellow was in this way humming _Scendi propizia_ from Metastasio's[181] -_Hymn to Venus_, he was struck by a draught; he twisted his mouth, and -he died of it, but not at once, for I rubbed his cheek heartily. We -held counsel in our elevated room, argued on politics, and discussed -the gossip of the Emigration. In the evening, we went to our aunts and -cousins to dance, after the dresses had been trimmed with ribbons and -the hats made up. - -They who read this portion of my Memoirs are not aware that I have -interrupted them twice: once to offer a great dinner to the Duke of -York, brother of the King of England; and once to give a rout on the -anniversary of the entry of the King of France into Paris, on the 8th -of July. That rout cost me forty thousand francs. Peers and peeresses -of the British Empire, ambassadors, distinguished foreigners filled -my gorgeously-decorated rooms. My tables gleamed with the glitter of -London crystal and the gold of Sèvres porcelain. The most delicate -dainties, wines and flowers abounded. Portland Place was blocked with -splendid carriages. Collinet and the band from Almack's enraptured the -fashionable melancholy of the dandies and the dreamy elegance of the -pensively-dancing ladies. The Opposition and the Ministerial majority -had struck a truce: Mrs. Canning[182] talked to Lord Londonderry, Lady -Jersey to the Duke of Wellington. Monsieur, who this year sent me his -compliments on the sumptuousness of my entertainments in 1822, did -not know in 1793 that, not far from him, lived a future minister who, -while awaiting the advent of his greatness, fasted over a cemetery for -his sin of loyalty. I congratulate myself to-day on having experienced -shipwreck, gone through war, and shared the sufferings of the humblest -classes of society, as I applaud myself for meeting with injustice and -calumny in times of prosperity. I have profited by these lessons: life, -without the ills that make it serious, is a child's bauble. - -* - -I was the man with the forty crowns; but since fortunes had not yet -been levelled, nor the price of commodities reduced, there was nothing -to serve as a counterpoise to my rapidly diminishing purse. I could -not reckon on further help from my family, exposed in Brittany to the -double scourge of the Chouans[183] and the Terror. I saw nothing before -me but the workhouse or the Thames. - -[Sidenote: A contrast.] - -Some of the Emigrants' servants, whom their masters could no longer -feed, had turned into eating-house keepers in order to feed their -masters. God knows the merry meals that were made at these ordinaries! -God knows, too, what politics were talked there! All the victories -of the Republic were turned into defeats, and, if by chance one -entertained a doubt as to an immediate restoration, he was declared a -Jacobin. Two old bishops, who looked like live corpses, were walking -one morning in St James's Park: - -"Monseigneur," said one, "do you think we shall be in France by June?" - -"Why, monseigneur," replied the other, after ripe reflection, "I see -nothing against it." - -Peltier, the man of resource, unearthed me, or rather unnested me, -in my eyry. He had read in a Yarmouth newspaper that a society of -antiquarians was going to produce a history of the County of Suffolk, -and that they wanted a Frenchman able to decipher some French -twelfth-century manuscripts from the Camden[184] Collection. The parson -at Beccles was at the head of the undertaking; he was the man to whom -to apply. - -"That will just suit you," said Peltier; "go down there, decipher that -old waste-paper, go on sending copy for the _Essai_ to Baylis; I'll -make the wretch go on with his printing; and you will come back to -London with two hundred guineas in your pocket, your work done, and go -ahead!" I tried to stammer out some objections: - -"What the deuce!" cried my man. "Do you want to stay in this -_palace_, where I'm catching cold already? If Rivarol, Champcenetz, -Mirabeau-Tonneau and I had gone about pursing up our mouths, a fine -business we should have made of the _Actes des Apôtres!_ Do you know -that that story of Hingant is making the devil of a to-do? So you both -wanted to let yourself die of hunger, did you? Ha, ha, ha! Pouf!.... -Ha, ha!" - -Peltier, doubled in two, was holding his knees with laughter. He had -just received a hundred subscriptions to his paper from the colonies; -he had been paid for them, and jingled his guineas in his pocket. He -dragged me by main force, together with the apoplectic La Boüétardais -and two tattered Emigrants who were at hand, to dine at the London -Tavern. He made us drink port and eat roast beef and plum-pudding till -we were ready to burst. - -"Monsieur le comte," he asked my cousin, "what makes you carry your -potato-trap askew like that?" - -La Boüétardais, half shocked, half pleased, explained the thing as -best he could; he described how he had been suddenly seized while -singing the words, "_O bella Venere!_" My poor paralytic looked so -dead, so benumbed, so shabby, as he stammered out his "_bella Venere_" -that Peltier fell back, roaring with laughter, and almost upset the -table by striking it with his two feet underneath. - -[Sidenote: I go to Beccles.] - -Upon reflection, the advice of my fellow-countryman, a real character -out of my other fellow-countryman, Le Sage[185], did not appear to me -so bad. After three days spent in making inquiries and in obtaining -some clothes from Peltier's tailor, I set out for Beccles with some -money lent me by Deboffe, on the understanding that I was going on -with the _Essai._ I changed my name, which no Englishman was able to -pronounce, for that of Combourg, which had been borne by my brother, -and which reminded me of the sorrows and pleasures of my early youth. -I alighted at the inn, and handed the minister of the place a letter -from Deboffe, who was greatly esteemed in the English book-world. The -letter recommended me as a scholar of the first rank. I was very well -received, saw all the gentlemen of the district, and met two officers -of our Royal Navy who were giving French lessons in the neighbourhood. - -* - -My strength improved; my trips on horseback restored my health a -little. England, viewed thus in detail, was melancholy, but charming; -it was the same thing, the same outlook wherever I went. M. de Combourg -was invited to every party. I owed to study the first alleviation of -my lot. Cicero was right to recommend the commerce of letters in the -troubles of life. The women were delighted to meet a Frenchman to talk -French with. - -The misfortunes of my family, which I learnt from the newspapers, -and which made me known by my real name (for I was unable to conceal -my grief), increased the interest which my acquaintances took in me. -The public journals announced the death of M. de Malesherbes; of his -daughter, Madame la Présidente de Rosanbo; of his granddaughter, -Madame de Chateaubriand; and of his grandson-in-law, the Comte de -Chateaubriand, my brother, all immolated together, on the same day, -at the same hour, on the same scaffold[186]. M. de Malesherbes was -an object of admiration and veneration among the English; my family -connection with the defender of Louis XVI. added to the kindness of my -hosts. - -My uncle de Bedée informed me of the persecutions endured by the rest -of my relations. My old and incomparable mother had been flung into a -cart with other victims and carried from the depths of Brittany to the -gaols of Paris, in order to share the lot of the son whom she had loved -so well. My wife and my sister Lucile were awaiting their sentence in -the dungeons at Rennes; there had been a question of imprisoning them -at Combourg Castle, which had become a State fortress: their innocence -was accused of the crime of my emigration. What were our sorrows on -foreign soil compared with those of the French who had remained at -home? And yet, what unhappiness, amid the sufferings of exile, to know -that our very exile was made the pretext for the persecution of our kin. - -Two years ago my sister-in-law's wedding ring was picked up in the -kennel of the Rue Cassette; it was brought to me, broken; the two hoops -of the ring had come apart and hung linked together; the names were -clearly legible engraved inside. How had the ring come to be found -there? When and where had it been lost? Had the victim, imprisoned at -the Luxembourg, passed by the Rue Cassette on her way to execution? Had -she dropped the ring from the tumbril? Had the ring been torn from her -finger after the execution? I was shocked at the sight of this symbol, -which, both by its broken condition and its inscription, reminded me of -a destiny so cruel. Something fatal and mysterious was attached to this -ring, which my sister-in-law seemed to send me from among the dead, in -memory of herself and my brother. I have given it to her son[187]: may -it not bring him ill-luck! - - Cher orphelin, image de ta mère, - Au ciel pour toi, je demande, ici-bas, - Les jours heureux retranchés à ton père - Et les enfants que ton oncle n'a pas[188]. - -This halting stanza and two or three others are the only present I was -able to make my nephew on his marriage. - -[Sidenote: Execution of my brother.] - -Another relic remains to me of these misfortunes. The following is a -letter which M. de Contencin wrote to me when, in turning over the city -records, he found the order of the revolutionary tribunal which sent my -brother and his family to the scaffold: - - "Monsieur le vicomte, - - "There is a sort of cruelty in awaking in a mind that has - suffered much the memory of the ills which have affected it - most painfully. This consideration made me hesitate some time - before offering for your acceptance a very pathetic document, - upon which I alighted in the course of my historical - researches. It is a death-certificate, signed before the - decease by a man who always displayed himself as implacable - as death itself, whenever he found illustriousness and virtue - united in the same person. - - "I hope, monsieur le vicomte, that you will not take it too - ill of me if I add to your family records a document which - recalls such cruel memories. I presumed that it would have an - interest for you, since it had a value in my eyes, and I at - once thought of offering it to you. If I am not guilty of an - indiscretion, I shall be doubly gratified, as this proceeding - gives me the opportunity to express to you the feelings of - profound respect and sincere admiration with which you have - long inspired me, and with I am, monsieur le vicomte, - - "your most humble, obedient servant, - - "A. DE CONTENCIN. - - "Prefecture of the Seine, - - "Paris, 28 _March_ 1835." - -I replied to the above letter as follows: - - "I had had the Sainte-Chapelle searched, monsieur, for the - documents concerning the trial of my unfortunate brother and - his wife, but the 'order' which you have been good enough to - send me was not to be found. This order and so many others, - with their erasures and their mangled names, have doubtless - been presented to Fouquier before the tribunal of God; he - will have been compelled to acknowledge his signature. Those - are the times which people regret, and on which they write - volumes filled with admiration! For the rest, I envy my - brother: he, at least, has since many a long year quitted - this sad world. I thank you infinitely, monsieur, for the - esteem which you have shown me in your beautiful and noble - letter, and I beg you to accept the assurance of the very - distinguished consideration with which I have the honour to - be, etc." - - - -This death order is, above all, remarkable for the proof which it -affords of the levity with which the murders were committed: names -are wrongly spelt, others are effaced. These defects of form, which -would have been enough to stay the simplest sentence, did not stop -the headsmen; all they cared for was the exact hour of death: "at -five o'clock precisely." Here is the authentic document, I copy it -faithfully: - - "Executor of Criminal Judgments, - - "REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL. - - "The executor of criminal judgments will not fail to go to - the house of justice of the Conciergerie, there to execute - the judgment which condemns Mousset, d'Esprémenil, Chapelier, - Thouret, Hell, Lamoignon Malsherbes, the woman Lepelletier - Rosambo, Chateau Brian, and his wife [proper name effaced - and illegible], the widow Duchatelet, the wife of Grammont, - formerly duke, the woman Rochechuart [Rochechouart], and - Parmentier;--14, to the penalty of death. The execution will - take place to-day, at five o'clock precisely, on the Place de - la Révolution in this city. - - "H. Q. FOUQUIER, - - "Public Prosecutor. - - "Given at the Tribunal, 3 Floréal, Year II. of the French - Republic. - - "_Two conveyances._" - - -The 9 Thermidor saved my mother's days; but she was forgotten at the -Conciergerie. The conventional commissary found her: - -"What are you doing here, citizeness?" he asked. "Who are you? Why do -you stay here?" - -My mother replied that, having lost her son, she had not inquired what -was going on, and that it was indifferent to her whether she died in -prison or elsewhere. - -"But perhaps you have other children?" said the commissary. - -[Sidenote: Release of my mother.] - -My mother mentioned my wife and sisters detained in custody at Rennes. -An order was sent to place them at liberty, and my mother was compelled -to leave the prison. - -In the histories of the Revolution, the writers have omitted to set the -picture of outer France by the side of the picture of inner France, -to depict that great colony of exiles, changing its industry and its -sorrows in accordance with the diversity of climate and the difference -in national manners. - -Outside France, everything operated by individuals: changes of -condition, obscure afflictions, noiseless and unrewarded sacrifices; -and, in this variety of individuals of every rank, age and sex, one -fixed idea was preserved: that of Old France travelling with her -prejudices and her faithful sons, as formerly the Church of God had -wandered over the earth with her virtues and her martyrs. - -Inside France, everything operated in the mass: Barère announcing -murders and conquests, civil wars and foreign wars; the gigantic -combats of the Vendée and on the banks of the Rhine; thrones toppling -to the sound of the march of our armies; our fleets swallowed up by the -waves; the people disinterring the monarchs at Saint-Denis and flinging -the dust of the dead kings into the eyes of the living kings to blind -them; New France, glorying in her new-found liberties, proud even of -her crimes, steadfast on her own soil, while extending her frontiers, -doubly armed with the headsman's blade and the soldier's sword. - -In the midst of my family sorrows I received some letters from my -friend Hingant, to reassure me as to his fate: letters very remarkable -in themselves; he wrote to me in September 1795: - - "Your letter of the 23rd of August is full of the most - touching feeling. I showed it to a few people, whose eyes - filled with tears on reading it. I was almost tempted to say - what Diderot said on the day when J. J. Rousseau came and - cried in his prison at Vincennes: - - "'See how my friends love me.' - - "My illness, as a matter of fact, was only one of those - nervous fevers which cause great suffering, and for which - time and patience are the best remedies. During the fever I - read extracts from the _Phædo_ and _Timæus_, and I said with - Cato: - - "'It must be so, Plato; thou reason'st well[189]!' - - "I had formed an idea of my journey as one might form an idea - of a voyage to India. I imagined that I should see many new - objects in the 'spirit world,' as Swedenborg calls it, and - above all that I should be free from the fatigue and dangers - of the journey." - - -Eight miles from Beccles, in a little town called Bungay, lived an -English clergyman, the Rev. Mr. Ives[190], a great Hellenist and -mathematician. He had a wife who was still young, with a charming -appearance, mind and manners, and an only daughter, fifteen years of -age. I was introduced to this household, and was better received there -than anywhere else. We took our wine in the old English fashion, and -sat two hours at table after the ladies had left. Mr. Ives, who had -been to America, liked to tell of his travels, to hear the story of my -own, to talk of Newton and Homer. His daughter, who had become learned -in order to please her father, was an excellent musician, and sang as -Madame Pasta[191] sings to-day. She reappeared in time to pour out -tea, and charmed away the old parson's infectious drowsiness. Leaning -against the end of the piano, I listened to Miss Ives in silence. - -When the music was over, the young lady questioned me about France, -about literature; asked me to set her plans of studies; she wished -particularly to know the Italian authors, and begged me to give her -some notes on the _Divina Commedia_ and the _Gerusalemme._ Gradually -I began to experience a timid charm that issued from the soul: I had -decked the Floridans, I should not have ventured to pick up Miss Ives's -glove; I grew confused when I tried to translate a passage from Tasso. -I was more at my ease with that chaster and more masculine genius, -Dante. - -Charlotte Ives's age and my own were suited. Into friendships formed -in the midst of one's career, there enters a certain melancholy; -when two people do not meet at the very outset, the memories of the -person beloved are not mingled with that portion of our days in which -we breathed without knowing her: those days, which belong to another -society, are painful to the memory, and as though curtailed from -our existence. When there is a disproportion of age, the drawbacks -increase: the older of the two commenced life before the younger was -born; the younger is destined to remain alone in his turn: one has -walked in a solitude this side of a cradle, the other will cross a -solitude that side of a tomb; the past was a desert for the first, the -future will be a desert for the second. It is difficult to be in love -in all the conditions that produce happiness: youth, beauty, seasonable -time, harmony of hearts, tastes, character, graces, and years. - -Having had a fall from my horse, I stayed some time with Mr. Ives. It -was winter; the dreams of my life began to flee before reality. Miss -Ives became more reserved; she ceased to bring me flowers; she would no -longer sing. - -[Sidenote: Charlotte Ives.] - -If I could have been told that I should pass the rest of my life -unknown in the bosom of this retiring family, I should have died of -pleasure: love needs but permanency to become at once an Eden before -the fall and an Hosanna without end. Contrive that beauty lasts, that -youth remains, that the heart can never weary, and you reproduce -Heaven. Love is so surely the sovereign felicity that it is pursued -by the phantom of perpetuity; it will consent to pronounce only -irrevocable vows; in the absence of joys, it seeks to make endless -its sorrows; a fallen angel, it still speaks the language it spoke -in the incorruptible abode; its hope is that it may never cease; in -its twofold nature and its twofold illusion here below, it strives to -perpetuate itself by immortal thoughts and never-failing generations. - -I beheld with dismay the moment approach when I should be obliged to -go. On the eve of the day announced for my departure, our dinner was a -gloomy one. To my great surprise, Mr. Ives withdrew at dessert, taking -his daughter with him, and I remained alone with Mrs. Ives: she was -extremely embarrassed. I thought she was going to reproach me with -an inclination which she might have discovered, although I had never -mentioned it. She looked at me, lowered her eyes, blushed; herself -bewitching in her confusion, there was no sentiment which she might not -by right have claimed for herself. At last, overcoming with an effort -the obstacle which had prevented her from speaking: - -"Sir," she said in English, "you behold my confusion: I do not know if -Charlotte pleases you, but it is impossible to deceive a mother's eyes; -my daughter has certainly conceived an attachment for you. Mr. Ives and -I have consulted together: you suit us in every respect; we believe you -will make our daughter happy. You no longer possess a country; you have -lost your relations; your property is sold: what is there to take you -back to France? Until you inherit what we have, you will live with us." - -Of all the sorrows that I had undergone, this was the sorest and -greatest. I threw myself at Mrs. Ives's feet; I covered her hands with -my kisses and my tears. She thought I was weeping with happiness, and -herself began to sob for joy. She stretched out her arm to pull the -bell-rope; she called her husband and daughter: - -"Stop!" I cried. "I am a married man!" - -She fell back fainting. - -I went out and, without returning to my room, left the house on foot I -reached Beccles and took the mail for London, after writing a letter to -Mrs. Ives of which I regret that I did not keep a copy. - -I have retained the sweetest, the tenderest, the most grateful -recollection of that event. Before I made my name, Mr. Ives's family -was the only one that bore me good-will and welcomed me with genuine -affection. Poor, unknown, proscribed, with neither beauty nor -attraction, I was offered an assured future, a country, a charming -wife to take me out of my loneliness, a mother almost as beautiful to -fill the place of my old mother, a father full of information, loving -and cultivating literature, to replace the father of whom Heaven had -bereaved me: what did I bring to set off against all that? No illusion -could possibly enter into the choice they made of me; there was no -doubt that I was loved. Since that time, I have met with but one -attachment sufficiently lofty to inspire me with the same confidence. -As to any interest of which I may subsequently have been the object, I -have never been able to make out whether outward causes, a noisy fame, -official finery, the glamour of a high literary or political position -were not the covering which attracted the attentions shown to me. - -For the rest, if I had married Charlotte Ives, my part on earth would -have been changed: buried in an English county, I should have become a -sporting gentleman; not a single line would have fallen from my pen; I -should even have forgotten my language, for I wrote in English, and -my ideas were beginning to take shape in English in my head. Would -my country have lost much by my disappearance? If I could put on one -side that which has consoled me, I would say that I should already -have numbered days of calm, instead of the troubled days that have -fallen to my share. The Empire, the Restoration, the divisions and -quarrels of France: what would all that have mattered to me? I should -not each morning have to palliate faults, to contend with errors. Is -it certain that I possess a real talent, and that that talent is worth -the sacrifice of my whole life? Shall I outlast my tomb? If I do go -beyond it, in the transformation which is now being brought about, in -a changed world occupied with very different things, will there be a -public to hear me? Shall I not be a man of the past, unintelligible to -the new generations? Will not my ideas, my opinions, my very style seem -tedious and antiquated to a scornful posterity? Will my shade be able -to say, as the shade of Virgil said to Dante: - - "_Poeta fui e cantai_: I was a poet and I sang?"[192] - - -* - -[Sidenote: I return to London.] - -I returned to London, but found no repose: I had fled from my fate as -a miscreant from his crime. How painful it must have been to a family -so worthy of my homage, of my respect, of my gratitude, to receive a -sort of refusal from the unknown man whom they had welcomed, to whom -they had offered a new home with a simplicity, an absence of suspicion, -of precaution, almost patriarchal in character! I imagined Charlotte's -grief, the just reproaches with which I was liable and deserved to -be covered: for, after all, I had taken pleasure in yielding to an -inclination of which I knew the insuperable unlawfulness. Had I, in -fact, made a vain attempt at seduction, without taking into account the -heinousness of my conduct? But whether I stopped, as I did, in order to -remain an honest man, or overcame all obstacles in order to surrender -to an inclination stigmatized beforehand through my conduct, I could -only have plunged the object of that seduction into sorrow or regret. - -From these bitter reflections I abandoned myself to other thoughts no -less filled with bitterness: I cursed my marriage, which, according to -the false perception of a mind at that time very sick, had thrown me -out of my course and was robbing me of happiness. I did not reflect -that, on account of the ailing temperament to which I was subject, and -the romantic notions of liberty which I cherished, a marriage with Miss -Ives would have been as painful to me as a more independent union. - -One thing within me remained pure and charming, although profoundly -sad: the image of Charlotte; that image ended by prevailing over my -revolts against my fate. I was tempted a hundred times to return to -Bungay, not to appear before the troubled family, but to hide by the -road-side to see Charlotte pass, to follow her to the temple where -we had the same God, if not the same altar, in common, to offer that -woman, through the medium of Heaven, the inexpressible ardour of my -vows, to pronounce, at least in thought, the prayer from the nuptial -benediction which I might have heard from a clergyman's lips in that -temple: - - "O God,... look mercifully upon this thy handmaid. ... now to - be joined in wedlock.... May it be to her a yoke of love and - peace.... May she be fruitful in offspring ... that they may - both see their children's children unto the third and fourth - generation, and arrive at a desired old age[193]." - -Wavering between resolve and resolve, I wrote Charlotte long letters -which I tore up. A few unimportant notes which I had received from her -served me as a talisman; attached to my steps by my thought, Charlotte, -gracious and compassionate, followed me along the paths of my sylph, -purifying them as she went. She absorbed my faculties; she was the -centre through which my intelligence made its way, in the same way as -the blood passes through the heart; she disgusted me with all else, for -I made of her a perpetual object of comparison to her advantage. A real -and unhappy passion is a poisoned leaven which remains at the bottom of -the soul, and which would poison the bread of the angels. - -The spots by which I had wandered, the hours and words which I had -exchanged with Charlotte, were engraved on my memory: I saw the smile -of the wife who had been destined for me; I respectfully touched -her black tresses; I pressed her shapely arms to my breast, like a -chain which I might have worn round my neck. No sooner was I in some -sequestered spot than Charlotte, with her white hands, came to sit by -my side. I divined her presence, as at night one inhales the perfume of -unseen flowers. - -I had lost Hingant's company, and my walks, more solitary than before, -left me full liberty to carry with me the image of Charlotte. There was -not a common, a road, a church, within thirty miles of London, that I -did not visit. The most deserted places, a field of nettles, a ditch -planted with thistles, all that was neglected by men, became favourite -spots for me, and in those spots Byron already drew breath. Leaning my -head upon my hand, I contemplated the scorned sites; when their painful -impression affected me too greatly, the memory of Charlotte came to -enchant me: I was then like the pilgrim who, on reaching a solitude -within view of the rocks of Mount Sinai, heard the nightingale sing. - -In London, my habits aroused surprise. I looked at nobody, I never -replied, I did not know what was said to me: my old associates -suspected me of madness. - -* - -What happened at Bungay after my departure? What became of that family -to which I had brought joy and mourning? - -You will have remembered that I am at present Ambassador to the Court -of George IV., and that I am writing in London, in 1822, of what -happened to me in London in 1795. - -Some matters of business obliged me, a week ago, to interrupt the -narrative which I resume to-day. During this interval, my man came and -told me one morning, between twelve and one o'clock, that a carriage -had stopped at my door and that an English lady was asking to see me. -As I have made it a rule, in my public position, to deny myself to -nobody, I ordered the lady to be shown up. - -[Sidenote: Lady Sutton.] - -I was in my study, when Lady Sutton was announced; I saw a lady in -mourning enter the room, accompanied by two handsome boys also in -mourning: one might have been sixteen, the other fourteen years of age. -I went towards the stranger; her perturbation was such that she could -hardly walk. She said to me, in faltering accents: - -"My lord, do you remember me?" - -Yes, I remembered Miss Ives! The years which had passed over her head -had left only their spring-time behind. I took her by the hand, I made -her sit down, and I sat down by her side. I could not speak; my eyes -were full of tears; I gazed at her in silence through those tears; I -felt how deeply I had loved her by what I was now experiencing. At last -I was able to say, in my turn: - -"And you, madam, do you remember me?" - -She raised her eyes, which till then she had kept lowered, and for sole -reply gave me a smiling and melancholy glance, like a long remembrance. -Her hand still lay between mine. Charlotte said to me: - -"I am in mourning for my mother; my father has been dead many years. -These are my children." - -At these words, she drew away her hand and sank back into her chair, -covering her eyes with her handkerchief. Soon she resumed: - -"My lord, I am now speaking to you in the language which I practised -with you at Bungay. I am ashamed: excuse me. My children are the sons -of Admiral Sutton[194], whom I married three years after your departure -from England. But I am not sufficiently self-possessed to-day to tell -you the details. Permit me to come again." - -I asked her for her address, and gave her my arm to take her to her -carriage. She trembled, and I pressed her hand to my heart. - -I called on Lady Sutton the next day; I found her alone. Then there -began between us a long series of those "Do you remember?" questions -which cause a whole life-time to revive. At each "Do you remember?" -we looked at one another; we sought to discover in each other's -faces those traces of time which so cruelly mark the distance from -the starting-point and the length of the road traversed. I said to -Charlotte: - -"How did your mother tell you?" - -Charlotte blushed, and hastily interrupted me: - -"I have come to London to ask you to interest yourself on behalf of -Admiral Sutton's children. The eldest would like to go to Bombay. Mr. -Canning, who has been appointed Governor-General of India, is your -friend; he might consent to take my son with him. I should be very -grateful to you, and I should like to owe to you the happiness of my -first child." - -She laid a stress on these last words. - -"Ah, madam," I replied, "of what do you remind me? What a subversion of -destinies! You, who received a poor exile at your father's hospitable -board; you, who did not scorn his sufferings; you, who perhaps thought -of raising him to a glorious and unhoped-for rank: it is you who now -ask his protection in your own country! I will see Mr. Canning; your -son, however much it costs me to give him that name, your son shall go -to India, if it only depends on me. But tell me, madam, how does my new -position affect you? In what light do you look upon me at present? That -word, 'my lord,' which you employ seems very harsh to me." - -Charlotte replied: - -"I don't think you changed, not even aged. When I spoke of you to my -parents during your absence, I always gave you the title of 'my lord;' -it seemed to me that you had a right to bear it: were you not to me the -same as a husband, 'my lord and master'." - -[Sidenote: Sentimental memories.] - -That graceful woman reminded me of Milton's Eve, as she uttered these -words: she was not born in the womb of another woman; her beauty bore -the imprint of the divine hand that had moulded it. - -I went to Mr. Canning and to Lord Londonderry; they made as many -difficulties about a small place as would have been made in France, -but they promised, as people promise at Court. I gave Lady Sutton an -account of the measures I had taken. I saw her three times more: at -my fourth visit, she told me she was returning to Bungay. This last -interview was a sad one. Charlotte talked to me once more of the past, -of our secret life, of our reading, our walks, our music, the flowers -of yester-year, the hopes of bygone days. - -"When I knew you," she said, "no one spoke your name; now, who has -not heard it? Do you know that I have a work and several letters in -your handwriting? Here they are." And she handed me a packet. "Do not -be offended if I prefer to keep nothing of yours." She began to weep. -"Farewell, farewell," she said. "Think of my son. I shall not see you -again, for you will not come to see me at Bungay." - -"I will," I cried; "I shall come to bring you your son's appointment." - -She shook her head with an air of doubt, and withdrew. On returning to -the Embassy, I locked myself in and opened the packet. It contained -only a few unimportant notes from myself and a scheme of studies, with -remarks on the English and Italian poets. I had hoped to find a letter -from Charlotte: there was none; but, in the margins of the manuscript, -I perceived some notes in English, French, and Italian: the age of the -ink and the youthfulness of the hand in which they were written showed -that it was long since they had been inscribed upon those margins. - -That is the story of my relations with Miss Ives. As I finish telling -it, it seems to me as though I were losing a second Charlotte in the -same island in which I lost the first. But between that which I feel at -this moment and that which I felt at the hours whose tenderness I have -recalled lies the whole space of innocence: passions have interposed -themselves between Miss Ives and Lady Sutton. I could no longer bring -to an artless woman the candour of desire, the sweet ignorance of a -love that did not surpass the limits of a dream. I was writing then on -the wave of sadness; I am now no longer tossed on the wave of life. -Well, if I had pressed in my arms, as a wife and a mother, her who was -destined for me as a virgin and a bride, it would have been with a sort -of rage, to blight, to fill with sorrow, to crush out of existence -those seven-and-twenty years which had been given to another after -having been offered to me. - -I must look upon the sentiment which I have just recalled as the first -of that kind which entered my heart; it was nevertheless in no way -sympathetic with my stormy nature: the latter would have corrupted it -and made me incapable of long enjoying such sacred delectations. It -was then that, embittered as I was by misfortunes, already a pilgrim -from beyond the seas, having begun my solitary travels, it was then -that I became obsessed by the mad ideas depicted in the mystery of -René, which turned me into the most tormented being on the face of the -earth. However that may be, the chaste image of Charlotte, by causing a -few rays of true light to penetrate to the depths of my soul, at first -dissipated a cloud of phantoms: my dæmon, like an evil genius, plunged -back into the abyss, and awaited the effects of time in order to renew -her apparitions. - -* - -My relations with Deboffe in connection with the _Essai sur les -révolutions_ had never been completely interrupted, and it was -important for me to resume them in London at the earliest possible -moment to support my material existence. But whence had my last -misfortune arisen? From my obstinate bent for silence. In order to -understand this it is necessary to enter into my character. - -At no time of my life have I been able to overcome the spirit of -reticence and of mental solitude which prevents me from talking of my -private affairs. - -[Sidenote: My reserved nature.] - -No one can state without lying that I have told what most people tell -in a moment of pain, pleasure, or vanity. A name, a confession of any -seriousness never issues, or issues but rarely, from my lips. I never -talk to casual people of my interests, my plans, my work, my ideas, -my attachments, my joys, my sorrows, being persuaded of the profound -weariness which one causes to others by talking of one's self. Sincere -and truthful though I be, I am lacking in openness of heart: my soul -incessantly tends to close up; I do not tell anything wholly, and I -have never allowed my complete life to transpire, except in these -Memoirs. If I try to begin a story, I am suddenly terrified at the -idea of its length; after four words, the sound of my voice becomes -unendurable to me, and I am silent. As I believe in nothing except -religion, I distrust everything: malevolence and disparagement are the -two distinctive qualities of the French mind; derision and calumny, the -certain result of a confidence. - -But what have I gained by my reserved nature? To become, because I was -impenetrable, a fantastic something, having no relation with my real -being? My very friends are mistaken in me, when they think that they -are making me better known and when they adorn me with the illusions -of their love for me. All the small intellects of the ante-chambers, -the public offices, the newspapers, the cafés have assigned ambition -to me, whereas I have none at all. Cold and dry in matters of everyday -life, I have nothing of the enthusiast or the sentimentalist: my clear -and swift perception quickly pierces men and facts, and strips them of -all importance. Far from carrying me away, from idealizing apposite -truths, my imagination disparages the loftiest events and baffles -even myself; I see the petty and ridiculous side of things first of -all; great geniuses and great things scarcely exist in my eyes. While -I show myself polite, encomiastic and full of admiration for the -self-conceited minds which proclaim themselves superior intelligences, -my secret contempt laughs at all those faces intoxicated with incense, -and covers them with Callot[195] masks. In politics, the warmth of my -opinions has never exceeded the length of my speech or my pamphlet. -In the inner and theoretical life, I am the man of all the dreams; in -the outer and practical life, I am the man of realities. Adventurous -and orderly, passionate and methodical, I am the most chimerical and -the most positive, the most ardent and the most icy being that ever -existed, a whimsical androgynus, formed out of the different blood of -my mother and my father. - -The portraits, utterly without resemblance, that have been made of me, -are due in the main to the reticence of my speech. The crowd is too -thoughtless, too inattentive, to see individuals as they are. Whenever, -by chance, I have endeavoured to rectify some of these false judgments -in my prefaces, I have not been believed. In the ultimate result, all -things being indifferent to me, I have not insisted; an "as you please" -has always rid me of the irksomeness of persuading anyone or of seeking -to establish a truth. I return to my spiritual tribunal, like a hare -to its form: there I resume my contemplation of the moving leaf or the -bending blade of grass. - -I do not make a virtue of my guardedness, which is as invincible as it -is involuntary: although it is not deceitful, it has the appearance of -being so; it is not in harmony with natures happier, more amiable, more -facile, more candid, more ample, more communicative than mine. It has -often injured me in matters of sentiment and business, because I have -never been able to endure explanations, reconciliations brought about -by protests and elucidations, lamentations and tears, verbiage and -reproaches, details and apologies. - -In the case of the Ives family, this obstinate silence of mine -concerning myself proved extremely fatal to me. A score of times -Charlotte's mother had inquired into my family and given me the -opportunity of speaking openly. Not foreseeing whither my silence would -lead me, I contented myself, as usual, with replying in short, vague -sentences. Had I not been the victim of that odious mental perversity, -all misunderstanding would have become impossible, and I should not -have appeared to wish to deceive the most generous hospitality; the -truth, as I told it at the last moment, did not excuse me: genuine harm -had none the less been done. - -I resumed my work in the midst of my grief and of the just reproaches -with which I covered myself. I even took pleasure in this work, for -it struck me that, by achieving renown, I should be giving the Ives -family less cause to repent the interest which they had shown me. -Charlotte, with whom I thus sought to be reconciled through my glory, -presided over my studies. Her image was seated before me while I wrote. -When I raised my eyes from the paper, I lifted them upon the adored -image, as though the original were in fact there. The inhabitants -of Ceylon one morning saw the luminary of day rise in extraordinary -splendour; its orb opened out, and from it issued a dazzling being, who -said to the Cingalese: - -"I have come to reign over you." - -Charlotte, issuing from a ray of light, reigned over me. - -Let us leave these memories; memories grow old and dim like hopes. My -life is about to change, to speed under other skies, in other valleys. -First love of my youth, you flee with all your charms! I have just -seen Charlotte again, it is true; but after how many years did I see -her again? Sweet glimpse of the past, pale rose of the twilight which -borders the night, long after the sun has set! - -* - -[Sidenote: The _Essai Historique._] - -Life has often been represented (by me first of all) as a mountain -which we climb on one side and descend on the other: it would be as -true to compare it to an Alp, to the bare, ice-crowned summit which -has no reverse. Following up this figure, the traveller always climbs -upwards and never down; he then sees more clearly the space which he -has covered, the paths which he has not taken, although by doing so -he could have risen by a gentler slope: he looks down with sorrow and -regret upon the point where he commenced to stray. Thus I must mark -at the publication of the _Essai historique_ the first step which led -me out of the peaceful road. I finished the first part of the great -work which I had planned; I wrote the last word between the idea of -death (I had fallen ill again) and a vanished dream: _In somnis venit -imago conjugis._[196] The _Essai_, printed by Baylis, was published by -Deboffe in 1797[197]. This date marks one of the turning-points in my -life. There are moments at which our destiny, whether because it yields -to society, or obeys the laws of nature, or begins to make us what we -shall have to remain, suddenly turns aside from its first line, like a -river which changes its course with a sudden bend. - -The _Essai_ offers the compendium of my existence as a poet, a -moralist, a publicist, and a politician. To say that I hoped, in so far -at least as I am capable of hoping, to make a great success with the -work, goes without saying: we authors, petty prodigies of a prodigious -era, make a claim to keep up intelligence with future races; but we do -not, I firmly believe, know where posterity lives, and we put the wrong -address. When we grow numb in our graves, death will freeze our words, -written or sung, so hard that they will not melt like the "frozen -words" of Rabelais. - -The _Essai_ was to be a sort of historical encyclopædia. The only -volume published is in itself a fairly wide inquiry; I had the sequel -in manuscript; then came, beside the researches and annotations of the -annalist, the lays and roundelays of the poet, the _Natchez_, and so -on. I am hardly able to understand to-day how I could give myself up -to such extensive studies amid an active wandering life, subject to so -many reverses. My obstinacy in working explains this fertility: in my -young days I often wrote for twelve or fifteen hours without leaving -the table at which I sat, scratching out and recommencing the same page -ten times over. Age has not caused me to lose any part of this faculty -of application: to this day my diplomatic correspondence, which in no -way interrupts my literary composition, is entirely from my own hand. - -The _Essai_ made a stir among the Emigration: it was opposed to the -opinions of my companions in misfortune; in the different social -positions which I have occupied, my independence has nearly always -offended the men with whom I went. I have by turns been the leader of -different armies of which the soldiers did not belong to my side: I -have led the Old Royalists to the conquest of the public liberties, and -especially of the liberty of the press, which they detested; I have -rallied the Liberals, in the name of that same liberty, to the standard -of the Bourbons, whom they hold in abhorrence. As it happened, Emigrant -opinion attached itself to my person through self-love: the English -reviews having spoken of me with praise, the commendation was reflected -over the whole body of the "faithful." - -I had sent copies of the _Essai_ to La Harpe, Ginguené, and de -Sales. Lemierre[198], nephew of the poet of the same name[199], and -translator of Gray's _Poems_, wrote to me from Paris, on the 15th of -July 1797, that my _Essai_ had had the greatest success. One thing is -certain, that, if the _Essai_ became for a moment known, it was almost -immediately forgotten: a sudden shadow swallowed up the first ray of my -glory. - -[Sidenote: Mrs. O'Larry.] - -As I had become almost a personage, the upper Emigration began to seek -me out in London. I made my way from street to street; I first left -Holborn and Tottenham Court Road, and advanced as far as the Hampstead -Road. Here I stopped for some months at the house of Mrs. O'Larry, an -Irish widow, the mother of a very pretty daughter of fourteen, and -tenderly devoted to cats. Linked by this common passion, we had the -misfortune to lose two beautiful kittens, white all over, like two -ermines, with black tips to their tails. - -Mrs. O'Larry was visited by old ladies of the neighbourhood with whom -I was obliged to drink tea in the old-fashioned style. Madame de Staël -has depicted this scene in _Corinne_ at Lady Edgermond's: - - "'My dear, do you think the water has boiled long enough to - pour it on the tea?' - - "'My dear, I think it is a little too early[200].'" - - -There also came to these evenings a tall and beautiful young -Irishwoman, called Mary Neale, in the charge of her guardian. She -noticed a wound lurking in my gaze, for she said to me: - -"You carry your heart in a sling." - -I carried my heart anyhow. - -Mrs. O'Larry left for Dublin; then, moving once more from the -neighbourhood of the colony of the poor Emigration of the east, I -arrived, from lodging to lodging, in the quarter of the rich Emigration -of the west, among the bishops, the Court families, and the West -Indian planters. Peltier had come back to me: he had got married as -a joke; he was the same boaster as always, lavishly obliging, and -frequenting his neighbours' pockets rather than their society. I made -several new acquaintances, particularly in the society in which I had -family connections: Christian de Lamoignon[201], who had been seriously -wounded in the leg in the engagement at Quiberon, and who is now my -colleague in the House of Lords, became my friend. He presented me -to Mrs. Lindsay, who was attached to Auguste de Lamoignon[202], his -brother: the Président Guillaume[203] was not installed in this fashion -at Basville, in the midst of Boileau[204], Madame de Sévigné, and -Bourdaloue[205]. - -Mrs. Lindsay, a lady of Irish descent, with a material mind and a -somewhat snappish humour, an elegant figure and attractive features, -was gifted with nobility of soul and elevation of character: the -Emigrants of quality spent their evenings by the fireside of the -last of the Ninons[206]. The old monarchy was going under, with all -its abuses and all its graces. It will be dug up one day, like those -skeletons of queens, decked with necklaces, bracelets and ear-rings, -which they exhume in Etruria. At Mrs. Lindsay's I met M. Malouet[207] -and Madame du Belloy, a woman worthy of affection, the Comte de -Montlosier and the Chevalier de Panat[208]. The last had a well-earned -reputation for wit, dirtiness, and gluttony; he belonged to that -audience of men of taste who used formerly to sit with folded arms in -the presence of French society: idlers whose mission was to look on at -everything and criticize everything; they exercised the functions which -the newspapers fulfill to-day, without the same bitterness, but also -without attaining their great popular influence. - -[Sidenote: The Comte de Montlosier.] - -Montlosier continued to ride cock-horse on his famous phrase of the -"wooden cross," a phrase somewhat smoothed down by me, when I revived -it, but true at bottom. On leaving France he went to Coblentz: he was -badly received by the Princes, had a quarrel, fought a duel at night on -the bank of the Rhine, and was run through. Being unable to move and -quite unable to see, he asked the seconds if the point of the sword was -sticking out behind: - -"Only three inches," said they, feeling him. - -"Then it's nothing," replied Montlosier. "Sir, withdraw your weapon." - -Thus badly received for his royalism, Montlosier went to England, -and took refuge in literature, the great almshouse of the Emigrants, -in which I had a pallet next to his. He obtained the editorship of -the _Courrier français._[209] In addition to his newspaper, he wrote -physico-politico-philosophical works: in one of these works he proved -that blue is the colour of life, because our veins turn blue after -death, life coming to the surface of the body in order to evaporate and -return to the blue sky; as I am very fond of blue, I was quite charmed. - -Feudally liberal, aristocratic and democratic, with a motley mind, made -up of shreds and patches, Montlosier is delivered, with difficulty, -of incongruous ideas; but, once he has succeeded in extricating them -from their after-birth, they are sometimes fine, above all energetic: -an anti-clerical as a noble, a Christian through sophistry and as a -lover of the olden times, he would, in the days of paganism, have been -an eager partisan of freedom in theory and of slavery in practice, and -would have had the slave thrown to the lampreys in the name of the -liberty of the human race. Wrong-headed, cavilling, stiff-necked, and -hirsute, the ex-deputy of the nobles of Riom nevertheless indulges -in condescendences to the powers that be; he knows how to look after -his interests, but he does not suffer others to perceive this, and he -shelters his weaknesses as a man beneath his honour as a gentleman. I -do not wish to speak ill of my "smoky Auvernat," with his novels of the -_Mont-d'Or_ and his polemics of the _Plaine_; I like his heteroclitous -person. His long and obscure setting forth and twisting of ideas, with -parentheses, clearings of the throat, and tremulous "oh, ohs," bore me -(I abominate the tenebrous, the involved, the vaporous, the laborious); -but, on the other hand, I am amused by this naturalist of volcanoes, -this abortive Pascal, this mountain orator who holds forth in the -tribune as his little fellow-countrymen sing in the chimney-tops[210]; -I love this gazetteer of peat-bogs and castle-keeps, this Liberal -explaining the Charter through a Gothic window, this shepherd-lord half -married to his milkmaid, himself sowing his barley in the snow, in his -little pebbly field; I shall always thank him for dedicating to me, in -his chalet in the Puy-de-Dôme, an old black rock taken from a cemetery -of the Gauls discovered by himself. - -The Abbé Delille, another fellow-countryman of Sidonius Apollinarius, -of the Chancelier de l'Hospital, of La Fayette, of Thomas, of -Chamfort[211], had also come to settle in London, after being driven -from the Continent by the inundation of the Republican victories. -The Emigration was proud to number him in its ranks: he sang our -misfortunes, a reason the more for loving his muse. He did a great deal -of work; he could not help himself, for Madame Delille locked him up -and did not release him until he had earned his day's keep by writing -a certain number of verses. I called on him one day, and was kept -waiting; then he appeared with very red cheeks: it is said that Madame -Delille used to box his ears; I know nothing about it; I only say what -I saw. - -Who has not heard the Abbé Delille recite his verses? He told a very -good story: his ugly, irregular features, lit up by his imagination, -went admirably with his affected delivery, with the character of -his talent, and with his clerical profession. The Abbé Delille's -masterpiece is his translation of the _Georgics_, with the exception -of the sentimental pieces; but it is as though you were reading Racine -translated into the language of Louis XV. - -[Sidenote: The Abbé Delille.] - -The literature of the eighteenth century, saving a few fine talents -which dominate it, standing as it does between the classical literature -of the seventeenth century and the romantic literature of the -nineteenth, without lacking naturalness lacks nature; given up wholly -to arrangements of words, it was neither sufficiently original as a new -school, nor sufficiently pure as an ancient school. The Abbé Delille -was the poet of the modern country-houses, in the same way as the -troubadours were the poets of the old castles; the verses of the one -and the ballads of the other point the difference which existed between -aristocracy in its prime and aristocracy in its decrepitude: the abbé -describes the pleasures of reading and chess in the manor-houses in -which the troubadours sang of tourneys and crusades. - -The distinguished persons of our Church militant were at that time in -England: the Abbé Carron, who wrote the life of my sister Julie; the -Bishop of Saint-Pol-de-Léon[212], a stern and narrow-minded prelate, -who contributed more and more to estrange M. le Comte d'Artois from his -country; the Archbishop of Aix[213], slandered perhaps because of his -success in society; another learned and pious bishop, but so avaricious -that, had he had the misfortune to lose his soul, he would never have -bought it back. Nearly all misers are men of wit: I must be a great -fool. - -Among the Frenchwomen in the West End was Madame de Boigne[214], -amiable, witty, filled with talent, extremely pretty, and the youngest -of them all; she has since, together with her father, the Marquis -d'Osmond[215], represented the Court of France in England much better -than my unsociability has done. She is writing now, and her talents -will reproduce admirably all that she has seen[216]. - -Mesdames de Caumont[217], de Gontaut[218], and du Cluzel also -inhabited the quarter of the exiled felicities, if at least I am -mistaking Madame de Caumont and Madame du Cluzel, both of whom I had -seen for a moment in Brussels. What is quite certain is that Madame la -Duchesse de Duras[219] was in London at that time: I was not to know -her till ten years later. How often in one's life one passes by that -which would constitute its charm, even as the navigator cuts through -the waters of a heaven-favoured land which he has only missed by one -horizon and one day's sail! I am writing this on the banks of the -Thames, and to-day a letter will go by post to tell Madame de Duras, on -the banks of the Seine, that I have come across my first memory of her. - -* - -From time to time the Revolution sent us Emigrants of new kinds and -opinions; different layers of exiles were formed: the earth contains -beds of sand or clay left behind by the waves of the Deluge. One of -those waves brought me a man whose loss I mourn to-day, a man who -was my guide in literature, and whose friendship was both one of the -honours and one of the consolations of my life. - -You have read, in an earlier book of these Memoirs, that I had known -M. de Fontanes in 1789: it was in Berlin, last year, that I learnt -the news of his death. He was born at Niort of a noble Protestant -family: his father had had the misfortune to kill his brother-in-law -in a duel. Young Fontanes, brought up by a brother of great merit, -came to Paris. He saw Voltaire[220] die, and that great representative -of the eighteenth century inspired his first verses: his poetic -attempts attracted the notice of La Harpe. He undertook some work for -the stage, and became intimate with a charming actress, Mademoiselle -Desgarcins. Living near the Odéon, wandering around the Chartreuse -he celebrated its solitude. He had made a friend destined to become -mine, M. Joubert[221]. When the Revolution occurred, the poet became -entangled with one of those stationary parties which always remain -torn by the progressive party which pulls them forwards and the -retrograde party which draws them back. The monarchists attached M. de -Fontanes to the staff of the _Modérateur._ When the bad days began, -he took refuge at Lyons, where he married. His wife was confined of -a son: during the siege of the town, which the revolutionaries had -called "Commune-Affranchie[222]," in the same way as Louis XI., when -banishing the citizens, had called Arras "Ville-Franchise[223]," Madame -de Fontanes was obliged to move her nursling's cradle in order to -place it within shelter from the bombs. Returning to Paris after the 9 -Thermidor, M. de Fontanes established the _Mémorial_[224] with M. de -La Harpe and the Abbé de Vauxelles[225]. He was proscribed on the 18 -Fructidor, and England became his haven of refuge. - -[Sidenote: The Marquis de Fontanes.] - -M. de Fontanes, together with Chénier, was the last writer of the -classic school in the elder line: his prose and verse resemble each -other and have a similar merit. His thoughts and images have a -melancholy unknown to the century of Louis XIV., which knew only the -austere and holy sadness of religious eloquence. That melancholy is -mingled with the works of the chanter of the _Jours des Morts_, as it -were the imprint of the period in which he lived: it fixes the date of -his coming; it shows that he was born after Rousseau, while connected -by taste with Fénelon. If the writings of M. de Fontanes were reduced -to two very small volumes, one of prose, the other of verse, it would -be the most graceful funeral monument that could be raised upon the -tomb of the classic school[226]. - -Among the papers which my friend left are several cantoes of his poem -of the _Grèce Sauvée_, books of odes, scattered poems, and so on. -He would not have published any more himself: for that critic, so -acute, so enlightened, so impartial when not blinded by his political -opinions, had a horrible dread of criticism. He was superlatively -unjust to Madame de Staël. An envious article by Garat[227] on the -_Forêt de Navarre_ almost stopped him short at the outset of his -political career. Fontanes, so soon as he appeared, killed the affected -school of Dorat[228], but he was unable to restore the classic -school, which was hastening to its end together with the language of -Racine[229]. - -If one thing in the world was likely to be antipathetic to M. de -Fontanes, it was my manner of writing. With me began the so-called -romantic school, a revolution in French literature: nevertheless, my -friend, instead of revolting against my barbarism, became enamoured -of it. I could see a great wonderment on his face when I read to him -fragments of the _Natchez, Atala_ and _René_; he was unable to bring -those productions within the scope of the common rules of criticism, -but he felt that he was entering into a new world; he saw a new form of -nature; he understood a language which he could not speak. He gave me -excellent advice; I owe to him such correctness of style as I possess; -he taught me to respect the reader's ear; he prevented me from falling -into the extravagance of invention and the ruggedness of execution of -my disciples. - -It was a great joy to me to see him again in London, received with open -arms by the Emigration; they asked him for cantoes from the _Grèce -Sauvée_; they crowded to hear him. He came to live near me; we became -inseparable. We were present together at a scene worthy of those -days of misfortune: Cléry[230], who had lately landed, read us his -Memoirs in manuscript. Imagine the emotion of an audience of exiles, -listening to the valet of Louis XVI. telling, as an eye-witness, of -the sufferings and death of the prisoner of the Temple! The Directory, -alarmed by Cléry's Memoirs, published an interpolated edition, in -which it made the author talk like a lackey and Louis XVI. like -a street-porter: this is, perhaps, one of the dirtiest of all the -instances of revolutionary turpitude. - - -[Sidenote: Emigrant society.] - -M. du Theil[231], who had charge of the affairs of M. le Comte d'Artois -in London, had hastened to seek out Fontanes; the latter asked me -to take him to the agent of the Princes. We found him surrounded by -all the defenders of the Throne and the Altar who were idling about -Piccadilly, by a crowd of spies and sharpers who had escaped from Paris -under various names and disguises, and by a swarm of adventurers, -Belgians, Germans, Irishmen, dealers in the Counter-revolution. In a -corner of the crowd was a man of thirty or thirty-two, at whom nobody -looked, and who himself seemed interested only in an engraving of the -Death of General Wolfe. Struck by his appearance, I asked who he was: -one of my neighbours answered: - -"It's nobody; it's a Vendean peasant who has brought a letter from his -leaders." - -This man, who was "nobody," had seen the deaths of Cathelineau[232], -the first general of the Vendée and a peasant like himself; Bonchamps, -in whom Bayard had come to life again; Lescure[233], armed with a -hair-cloth which was not bullet-proof; d'Elbée[234], shot in an -armchair, his wounds not permitting him to embrace death standing; La -Rochejacquelein[235], whose body was ordered to be "verified" in order -to reassure the Convention in the midst of its victories. That man, -who was "nobody," had assisted at two hundred captures and recaptures -of towns, villages, and redoubts, at seven hundred skirmishes, and -seventeen pitched battles; he had fought against three hundred thousand -regular troops and six or seven hundred thousand recruits and national -guards; he had assisted in taking one hundred guns and fifty thousand -muskets; he had passed through the "infernal columns," companies of -incendiaries commanded by Conventional; he had been in the midst of -the ocean of fire which, three several times, rolled its waves over -the woods of the Vendée; lastly, he had seen three hundred thousand -Hercules of the plough, the associates of his work, die, and one -hundred square leagues of fertile country change into a desert of ashes. - -The two Frances met upon this soil levelled by them. All that remained -in blood and memory of the France of the Crusades fought against the -new blood and hopes of the France of the Revolution. The conqueror -recognised the greatness of the conquered. Turreau[236], the Republican -general, declared that "the Vendeans would take their place in history -in the first rank of soldier peoples." Another general wrote to Merlin -de Thionville[237]: - -"Troops which have beaten such Frenchmen as those may well hope to beat -all other nations." - -The legions of Probus[238], in their song, said as much of our fathers. -Bonaparte called the combats of the Vendée "combats of giants." - -[Sidenote: A Vendean peasant.] - -In the crowd in the parlour, I was the only one to look with admiration -and respect upon the representative of those ancient "Jacques[239]," -who, while breaking the yoke of their lords, repelled the foreign -invasion under Charles V.[240]: I seemed to see a child of the Commons -of the time of Charles VII.[241], who, with the small provincial -nobility, foot by foot, furrow by furrow, reconquered the soil of -France. He wore the indifferent air of the savage; his look was grey -and inflexible as steel rod; his lower lip trembled over his clenched -teeth; his hair hung down from his head like a mass of torpid snakes, -ready, however, to dart erect again; his arms, hanging by his sides, -gave nervous jerks to a pair of huge fists slashed with sword-cuts: -one would have taken him for a sawyer. His physiognomy expressed a -homely, rustic nature, employed, by force of manners, in the service -of interests and ideas contrary to that nature; the native fidelity of -the vassal, the Christian's simple faith were mingled with the rough -plebeian independence accustomed to value itself and to take the law -into its own hands. The feeling of liberty in him seemed to be merely -the consciousness of the strength of his hand and the intrepidity of -his heart. He spoke no more than a lion; he scratched himself like -a lion, yawned like a lion, sat on his flank like a bored lion, and -seemed to dream of blood and forests. - -What men, in every party, were the French of that time, and what a race -are we to-day! But the Republicans had their principle in themselves, -in the midst of themselves, while the principle of the Royalists was -outside France. The Vendeans sent deputations to the exiles; the giants -sent to ask leaders of the pigmies. The rude messenger upon whom I -gazed had seized the Revolution by the throat and cried: - -"Enter; pass behind me; she will not hurt you; she shall not move; I -have got hold of her!" - -No one was willing to pass: then Jacques Bonhomme let go the -Revolution, and Charette[242] broke his sword. - -* - -While I was making these reflections on this tiller of the soil, as -I had made others of a different kind at the sight of Mirabeau and -Danton, Fontanes obtained a private audience of him whom he pleasantly -called "the controller-general of finance:" he came out of it greatly -satisfied, for M. du Theil had promised to encourage the publication of -my works, and Fontanes thought only of me. It was impossible to be a -better man than he: timid where he himself was concerned, he became all -courage in matters of friendship; he proved this to me at the time of -my resignation on the occasion of the death of the Duc d'Enghien[243]. -In conversation, he burst into ludicrous fits of literary rage. In -politics, he reasoned falsely: the crimes of the Convention had -inspired him with a horror of liberty. He detested the newspapers, -the band of false philosophers, the whole science of ideas, and he -communicated that hatred to Bonaparte, when he became connected with -the master of Europe. - -We went for walks in the country; we stopped under some of those -spreading elm-trees scattered about the fields. Leaning against the -trunk of these elms, my friend told me of his early journey to England -before the Revolution, and of the verses he then addressed to two young -ladies who had grown old in the shadow of the towers of Westminster: -towers which he found standing as he had left them, while at their base -lay buried the illusions and the hours of his youth. - -We often dined at some solitary tavern in Chelsea, on the Thames, where -we talked of Milton and Shakespeare: they had seen what we saw; they -had sat, like ourselves, on the bank of that stream, a foreign stream -to us, the national stream to them. We returned to London, at night, by -the faltering rays of the stars, drowned one after the other in the fog -of the city. We reached our lodging, guided by uncertain glimmers which -scarcely showed us the road across the coal smoke hovering red around -every lamp: thus speeds the poet's life. - -We saw London in detail; as an old exile, I acted as _cicerone_ to -the new recruits of banishment which the Revolution demanded, young -or old: there is no legal age for misfortune. In the course of one -of these excursions, we were surprised by a rain-storm, mingled with -thunder, and obliged to take shelter in the passage of a mean house, -of which the door had been left open by accident. There we met the Duc -de Bourbon[244]: I saw for the first time, at this Chantilly[245], a -prince who was not yet the Last of the Condés. - -[Sidenote: The Duc of Bourbon.] - -The Duc de Bourbon, Fontanes and I, all three outlaws, seeking a -shelter from the same storm, on foreign soil, under a poor man's roof! -_Fata viam invenient._ - -Fontanes was recalled to France. He embraced me, expressing wishes for -a speedy meeting. On arriving in Germany, he wrote me the following -letter: - - "28 July 1798. - - "If you have experienced any regrets at my departure from - London, I swear to you that mine have been no less real. You - are the second person in whom, in the course of my life, I - have found an imagination and a heart corresponding to my - own. I shall never forget the consolation you brought me in - exile and in a foreign land. My fondest and most constant - thoughts, since I have left you, have turned upon the - Natchez. What you have read to me, especially of recent days, - is admirable and will not leave my memory. But the charm of - the poetic ideas which you left in my mind disappeared for a - moment on my arrival in Germany. - - "The most hideous news from France followed on that which I - showed you on leaving you. I spent five or six days in the - cruellest perplexity. I even feared for persecutions directed - against my family. My fears are now greatly diminished. The - evil has even been very slight; they threaten rather than - strike, and it is not those of my 'date' whom they wish to - see exterminated. The last post has brought me assurances of - peace and good-will. I can continue my journey, and shall - set out early next month. I shall live near the Forest of - Saint-Germain, among my family, Greece, and my books: why - can I not also say the _Natchez!_ The unexpected storm which - has just taken place in Paris was due, I am certain, to the - follies of the agents and leaders you know of. I have a - clear proof of this in my hands. Convinced as I am of this, - I am writing to Great Pulteney Street[246] with all possible - politeness, but also with all the caution which prudence - demands. I wish to escape all correspondence in the coming - month, and I leave the greatest doubt upon the steps which I - am going to take and the residence which I intend to select. - - "For the rest, I am again speaking of you in the accents of - friendship, and I wish from the bottom of my heart that the - hopes of future usefulness which they may place in me may - revive the favourable dispositions which they showed me in - this matter, and which are so certainly due to your person - and your great talents. Work, work, my dear friend, and - become illustrious. You have it in your power: the future - is in your hands. I hope that the word so often given by - the 'controller-general of finance' has been at least in - part redeemed. That part consoles me, for I cannot bear the - thought of a fine work delayed for the sake of a little - assistance. Write to me; let our hearts be in communication, - let our muses remain ever friends. Do not doubt but that, - when I am able to move about freely in my country, I shall - prepare a hive and flowers for you beside my own. My - attachment is unalterable. I shall be alone so long as I am - not with you. Talk to me of your work. I want to gladden you - in conclusion: I wrote half of a new canto on the banks of - the Elbe, and I am better pleased with it than with all the - rest. - - "Farewell, I embrace you tenderly, and am your friend. - - "FONTANES." - -Fontanes tells me that he wrote verses on changing the spot of his -banishment. One can never take everything from the poet: he takes his -lyre with him. Leave the swan his wings; each evening unknown streams -will re-echo the melodious plaints which he would rather have sung to -Eurotas. - -"The future is in your hands": did Fontanes speak truly? Am I to -congratulate myself on his prophecy? Alas! That promised future is -already past: shall I have another? - -* - -[Sidenote: Death of Fontanes.] - -This first and affectionate letter from the first friend whom I had in -my life, the friend who walked by my side for twenty-three years from -the date of that letter, reminds me painfully of my gradual isolation. -Fontanes is no more; a profound sorrow, the tragic death of a son, -cast him into an untimely grave. Almost all the persons of whom I have -spoken in these Memoirs have disappeared; I am keeping an obituary -register. A few years more and I, doomed to catalogue the dead, shall -leave none to write my name in the book of the departed. - -But if it must be that I remain alone, if not one being who has loved -me is to stay by me to lead me to my last resting-place, I have less -need than another of a guide: I have inquired the road, I have studied -the places through which I should have to pass; I wished to see what -happens at the last moment. Often, by the side of a pit into which a -coffin was being lowered with ropes, I have heard the death-rattle of -those ropes; next, I have caught the sound of the first spadeful of -earth falling on the coffin: at each new spadeful the hollow sound -decreased; the earth, as it filled up the vault, gradually drove the -eternal silence to the surface of the grave. - -Fontanes, you wrote to me, "Let our muses remain ever friends:" you -have not written to me in vain. - - - -[146] This book was written in London between April and September 1822, -and revised in December 1846.--T. - -[147] The anniversary dinner at the Freemasons' Tavern, 21 May 1822.--T. - -[148] The amount of M. de Chateaubriand's donation was £20.--T. - -[149] Field-Marshal Frederick Duke of York and Albany, Bishop -of Osnaburg, K.G. (1763-1827), second son of George III., and -Commander-in-Chief of the army. A military commander of no capacity; -four defeats stand to his debit: Hondschoote (8th September 1793), -Turcoing (1794), Alxmaar (1799), Castricum (1799), not to mention the -scandals in connection with Mrs. Clarke and the sale of commissions in -the army.--T. - -[150] Edward Adolphus Seymour, eleventh Duke of Somerset, K.G. -(1775-1855).--T. - -[151] Vice-Admiral George Byng, sixth Viscount Torrington -(1768-1831).--T. - -[152] William Powlett Orde-Powlett, second Lord Bolton (1782-1850).--T. - -[153] George Canning (1770-1827), appointed Viceroy of India, but did -not take up the appointment. He became Premier in 1827.--T. - -[154] _Times_, 22nd May 1822. Chateaubriand had asked Canning to -return thanks on his behalf for the toast of "the illustrious foreign -personages who honoured the society with their company." These were -Chateaubriand and the Tripolitan Ambassador, who also "returned thanks -through the medium of another gentleman."--T. - -[155] Canning entered Parliament as a member of Pitt's party in 1793, -and joined his ministry as Under-Secretary of State in 1796. Pitt used -to speak of Canning and Arthur Wellesley as "the boys."--T. - -[156] Marie Joseph Annibal de Bedée, Comte de La Boüétardais -(1758-1809). He emigrated in 1790, after the death of his wife, never -returned to France, and died in London, 6 January 1809.--B. - -[157] Dr. Edmund Goodwyn (1756-1829), author of _Dissertatio Medica de -morte Submersorum_ (1786), and of a translation of the same work in -English (1788). He is supposed to have been the original of Thackeray's -Dr. Goodenough.--T. - -[158] "For the rest, my health, disturbed by much travel and many -cares, vigils and studies, is so deplorable that I fear I shall be -unable to fulfil forthwith my promise concerning the other volumes of -the _Essai historique._"--B. - -[159] _Essai historique sur les révolutions_, Book I. part i., -Introduction.--B. - -[160] One of Peltier's first pamphlets, published October 1789, and -denouncing the Duc d'Orléans and Mirabeau as the principal authors of -the day's work of the 5th and 6th of October.--B. - -[161] Henri Christophe (1767-1820), King of Haiti under the title of -Henry I. He led the negro insurrection in 1790, caused himself to be -proclaimed President in 1806, assumed the title of Emperor in 1811, and -reigned until 1820, when he committed suicide to escape being put to -death by his subjects.--T. - -[162] Peltier was paid his salary as Haitian Minister by shipments -of sugar and coffee, the sale of which brought him in some eight -thousand pounds a year. One of his epigrams against Louis XVIII., who -received him coldly after the Restoration, happening to be applicable -to Christophe, the supplies were stopped together with his ministerial -powers, and he died a poor man.--B. - -[163] François Dominique Reynaud, Comte de Montlosier (1755-1838). He -came to London after going through the campaign of the Princes, and -became editor, not of the _Courrier français_, but of the _Courrier de -Londres_, which had been founded by the Abbé de Calonne.--B. - -[164] Oliver Cromwell (1599-1658) was buried in Westminster, but dug up -at the Restoration, hanged at Tyburn, and buried under the gallows.--T. - -[165] The remains of King Charles I. are buried in St. George's Chapel, -Windsor.--T. - -[166] Robert, Count of Artois ( 1287-1343), endeavoured to recover -from his brother-in-law, Philip VI. of France, the county of Artois, -which had been taken from him in a former reign. He was sentenced to -perpetual banishment, but had before this fled from the kingdom and -began plotting against the King of France. Philip pursued him from -county to county, causing the various princes to refuse him refuge, -until he fled to England, where he was welcomed by Edward III. (1333). -In 1336 Philip proclaimed Robert of Artois a traitor and an enemy of -France, and forbade all his vassals of whatever rank, in or out of -France, to receive or aid him on penalty of confiscation of their -fiefs. Edward accepted the insult as addressed to himself, prepared for -war, proclaimed himself King of France in 1337, and invaded France in -1339, thus commencing the Hundred Years' War.--T. - -[167] Florio's MONTAIGNE, Booke II. Chap. xii.: _An Apologie of Raymond -Sebond._--T. - -[168] William Pitt, first Earl of Chatham (1708-1778). His monument by -Bacon stands in the North Transept near the entrance to the chapels -which lead to the Chapel of Henry VII. and the Knights of the Bath.--T. - -[169] Charles V., Emperor of Germany (1500-1558), abdicated in 1556 -and retired to the neighbourhood of the Monastery of San Yuste in -Estremadura. One month before his death (which occurred on the 21st -of September 1558) he was seized with a fancy for going through the -ceremonies of his own funeral, and, attired in a monk's dress, he -joined in the chants of the community around an empty coffin placed in -the convent chapel.--T. - -[170] Lady Jane Grey (1537-1554) was buried after her execution, -together with her husband, Lord Guildford Dudley, in the Chapel of St. -Peter ad Vincula in the Tower of London.--T. - -[171] Catharine, not Alice, Countess of Salisbury (_d._ _circa_ 1350), -_née_ Grandison, wife of William de Montacute, first Earl of Salisbury, -and heroine of the spurious Garter story, was buried in her husband's -foundation at Bisham.--T. - -[172] Edward III., King of England (1312-1377), is buried in the Chapel -of St. Edward the Confessor.--T. - -[173] Henry VIII., King of England (1491-1547), is buried in St. -George's Chapel, Windsor.--T. - -[174] Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam, first Viscount St. Albans -(1561-1626), is buried in St. Michael's Church, St. Albans.--T. - -[175] Sir Isaac Newton (1642-1727) is buried in the North Aisle of -Westminster Abbey. His monument is by Rysbrack.--T. - -[176] John Milton (1608-1674) has a monumental bust by Rysbrack in -Poets' Corner. He is buried in St. Giles's Church, Cripplegate.--T. - -[177] Edward V. King of England (1471-1483) and Richard Duke of York -(1474-1483), smothered in the Tower of London by order of their uncle -Richard Duke of Gloucester, later Richard III. Some bones, presumed to -be theirs, were found in the White Tower or Keep and removed to Henry -the Seventh's Chapel at Westminster, where they now lie.--T. - -[178] Shakespeare, _Life and Death of King Richard III._, Act IV. sc. -3.--T. - -[179] Emanuel Swedenborg (1688-1772), the mystic theosophist. His -doctrines made a certain amount of way in England, and he died in -London.--T. - -[180] Charles Louis François de Barentin (1738-1819). He had opened the -States-General, as Keeper of the Seals, in 1789. He emigrated after -Mirabeau had denounced him, on the 15th of July, as an enemy of the -people.--B. - -[181] Pietro Bonaventure Trapassi (1698-1782), known as Metastasio, one -of the most graceful and charming of the Italian dramatic poets. He -settled in Vienna in 1730, by invitation of the Emperor Charles VI., -who gave him the title of _Poeta Cesareo_, and there wrote a multitude -of lyrical tragedies, operas, oratorios, and poems of all kinds.--T. - -[182] Mrs. Canning, _née_ Joan Scott, a sister to the Duchess of -Portland, married to Mr. Canning 8 July 1800.--T. - -[183] The insurrectionary Royalists in Brittany had adopted this -name from their rallying-cry, which imitated the note of the -_chat-huant_, or screech-owl. Their marauding excursions were somewhat -indiscriminate, and their presence not always welcome even to the loyal -inhabitants.--T. - -[184] William Camden (1551-1623), the famous antiquary, first -head-master of Westminster School and later Clarencieux King-at-Arms. -He has been surnamed the Strabo and the Pausanias of England.--T. - -[185] Alain René Le Sage (1668-1747), author of the _Aventures de Gil -Blas_, to whom Peltier has already been compared by Chateaubriand. Le -Sage was born at Sarzeau, in Brittany: hence Chateaubriand speaks of -him as his "fellow-countryman."--T. - -[186] 22 April 1794.--B. - -[187] The Comte Louis de Chateaubriand (1790-1873) followed a military -career. In 1823 King Louis XVIII. created him heir-presumptive to his -uncle's peerage. In 1830 he resigned his commission at the same time -that his uncle withdrew from the House of Peers. In 1870, when eighty -years of age, he refused to leave Paris, and inscribed his name on -the register of the defenders of the besieged capital. He died at the -Château de Malesherbes, 14 October 1873.--B. - -[188] - - "Dear orphan, of thy mother the close type, - Of Heaven above I ask for thee below - The happy days snatched from thy sire ere ripe, - The children whom your uncle may not know."--T. - -[189] ADDISON, _Cato_, Act V. sc. I.--T. - -[190] Rev. John Clement Ives (_d._ 1812) was incumbent of Ilketshall -St. Margaret, near Bungay, and of Great Holland in Essex.--T. - -[191] Giuditta Pasta (1798-1865), _née_ Negri, a famous Italian -operatic singer of Jewish birth. Her celebrity commenced in 1822, the -year in which Chateaubriand is writing, and lasted until 1835, when she -retired into private life.--T. - -[192] _Inferno_, I.--B. - -[193] Order of Marriage according to the Catholic ritual.--T. - -[194] Admiral Sir John Sutton was gazetted an Admiral of the Blue on -the 12th of August 1819. I have no certainty that either Ives or Sutton -(spelt Sulton in the original) are the real names of the individuals of -whom Chateaubriand speaks, although I have succeeded in establishing -that there was a clergyman of the name of Ives residing at Bungay in -1795, and an Admiral Sir John Sutton on the Navy List in 1822.--T. - -[195] Jacques Callot (1593-1635), a painter, engraver, and etcher of -the first order; his works amount to nearly 1600 pieces, and include an -array of immensely powerful grotesque subjects, in which he caricatures -the vices and absurdities of mankind.--T. - -[196] VIR., _Æn._, I. 357.--B. - -[197] Chateaubriand began to write the _Essai_ in 1794; the work was -printed in London in 1796, and published in the beginning of 1797. It -formed one volume, large 8vo, of 681 pages, without counting prefaces, -tables of contents, etc. The full title ran: _Essai historique, -politique et moral sur les Révolutions anciennes et modernes, -considérées dans leur rapports avec la Révolution françaises. Dédié à -tous les partis._ With this epigraph: _Experti invicem sumus ego et -fortuna._--TACITE. And at the foot of the title-page: _A Londres: Se -trouve chez_ J. DEBOFFE, _Gerrard-Street_; J. DEBRETT, _Piccadilly_; -Mme. LOWES, _Pall-Mall_; A. DULAU ET CO., _Wardour-Street_; BODSEY, -_Broad-Street_; et J.-F. FAUCHE, _à Hambourg._ The author's name did -not appear in the first edition.--B. - -[198] Auguste Jacques Lemierre (_circa_ 1760-1815). He also translated -Thomson's _Castle of Indolence_ and some German works. He died -in hospital, under a false name, of a disease arising from his -excesses.--T. - -[199] Antoine Marin Lemierre (1723-1793), the author of two didactic -poems and several tragedies, some of which achieved great success. His -versification is considered incorrect and harsh, but some of his poems -contain passages of great beauty.--T. - -[200] _Corinne_, XIV. i.--B. - -[201] Anne Pierre Christian Vicomte de Lamoignon (1770-1827), third son -of Chrétien François de Lamoignon, Marquis de Basville. Louis XVIII. -created him a peer of France in 1815. He never wholly recovered from -his wound.--B. - -[202] René Chrétien Auguste Marquis de Lamoignon (1765-1845), -Christian's elder brother, made a peer of France by Louis-Philippe in -1832.--B. - -[203] Guillaume I. de Lamoignon (1617-1677), First President of the -Parliament of Paris, and founder of the Lamoignon-de Basville-de -Malesherbes family.--T. - -[204] Nicolas Boileau (1636-1711), surnamed Despréaux, the -distinguished poet and critic, and friend of Lamoignon.--T. - -[205] Louis Bourdaloue (1632-1704), the eminent Jesuit preacher.--T. - -[206] Ninon de Lenclos (1616-1706) was a lady of loose morals and -decent manners who retained her charms and her lovers to her dying day. -Her salon was frequented by the ladies of Louis XIV.'s Court and the -whole society of the time, and she was a distinguished protectress of -the contemporary men of letters.--T. - -[207] Pierre Victor Baron Malouet (1740-1814), Intendant of the -Navy before the Revolution and Commissary-General of the Navy under -Napoleon. Louis XVIII. appointed him Minister of the Navy in 1814, but -he died shortly after his nomination.--T. - -[208] The Chevalier de Panat (1762-1834) was a naval officer of -distinction. He became a rear-admiral and Secretary-General to the -Admiralty in 1814. He neglected his person to such an extent that -Rivarol said of him that he would stain mud.--T. - -[209] Or rather, the _Courrier de Londres_, as explained above.--B. - -[210] The Auvergnat lads in Paris were employed as chimney-sweeps.--T. - -[211] The Comte de Montlosier and the Abbé Delille were both born at -Clermont-Ferrand in Auvergne; Sidonius Apollinarius (430-489) was -born near Lyons, and became Bishop of Clermont; Michel de l'Hôpital -(1505-1573), Chancellor of France, was born near Aigueperse in -Auvergne; La Fayette was born in the same province, as were Thomas and -Chamfort.--T. - -[212] Jean François de La Marche, Comte de Léon (1729-1805), Bishop of -Saint-Pol-de-Léon. The bishopric was suppressed in 1790 and was not -restored.--T. - -[213] Jean-de-Dieu Raymond de Boisgelin de Cicé (1732-1804), Archbishop -of Aix, and a member of the French Academy. After the Concordat he -became Archbishop of Tours and a cardinal.--T. - -[214] Madame de Boigne was the wife of Bénoît, Comte de Boigne -(1741-1831), who had seen service in India under one of the native -princes, and returned laden with colossal riches.--B. - -[215] The Marquis d'Osmond (1751-1838) was French Minister at the Hague -at the outbreak of the Revolution. In 1791 he was appointed Ambassador -in St. Petersburg, but resigned before going out, and emigrated. He -filled several diplomatic posts under the Empire, was Minister at Turin -under the First Restoration, and in 1815 was created a peer of France -and Ambassador to England, where he remained until January 1819.--B. - -[216] The Comtesse de Boigne wrote some novels, of which the chief -was _Une Passion dans le grand monde._ They were published after her -death under the Second Empire, none of them attaining the smallest -success.--B. - -[217] Marie Constance de Caumont La Force (1774-1823), _née_ de -Lamoignon, wife of François Philibert Bertrand Nompar de Caumont, -Marquis de La Force.--B. - -[218] The Duchesse de Gontaut, _née_ de Montault Navailles, married the -Vicomte de Gontaut-Biron in London in 1794. She became Governess of the -Children of France under the Restoration after the birth of the Duc de -Bordeaux, and Louis XVIII. gave her the rank and title of duchess.--B. - -[219] Claire Duchesse de Duras (1777-1828), _née_ Lechat de Kersaint, -the friend of Madame de Staël, and author of two novels, _Ottrika_ and -_Édouard_, which attained a great success.--T. - -[220] François Marie Arouet (1694-1778), known as Voltaire. He was -refused burial in Paris, and his remains were interred in the abbey -at Scellières and removed to the Panthéon, where they still lie, in -1791.--T. - -[221] Joseph Joubert (1754-1824), author of the _Pensées_, published in -1838, thanks to the care of Chateaubriand.--T. - -[222] 1793--The town was nearly destroyed, its 200,000 inhabitants -almost decimated by the commissaries of the Convention, and its name -changed as stated.--T. - -[223] 1477.--T. - -[224] The _Mémorial historique, politique et littéraire_ ran from 20 -May to 4 September 1797. It is full of articles of the rarest merit, -especially those by La Harpe, which are masterpieces.--B. - -[225] Jacques Bourlet, Abbé de Vauxelles (1734-1802).--T. - -[226] It has been raised by the filial piety of Madame Christine de -Fontanes. M. Sainte-Beuve has adorned the frontal of the monument with -his ingenious notice.--_Author's Note_ (Paris, 1839). - -[227] Dominique Joseph Garat (1749-1833), Minister of Justice under -the Revolution in succession to Danton, Minister of the Interior in -succession to Roland, and a writer of merit. He was elected a member of -the French Academy in 1806, but excluded at the Restoration.--T. - -[228] Claude Joseph Dorat (1734-1780), an artificial, fastidious, and -somewhat monotonous follower of Voltaire.--T. - -[229] I omit a reference to Fontanes' _Anniversaire de sa naissance_ -and a quotation from that ode.--T. - -[230] Jean Baptiste Cléry (1759-1809), the King's valet. His Memoirs -were published in London, in 1799; with the title. _Journal de ce qui -s'est passé à la Tour du Temple pendant la captivité de Louis XVI., roi -de France_, and printed the same year in France. In order to destroy -the interest attached to this publication, the Directory caused a -spurious edition to be disseminated, entitled _Mémoires de M. Cléry -sur la détention de Louis XVI._, and filled with matter calculated to -injure the memory of the unhappy Sovereign and the Royal Family. Cléry -protested against this with indignation so soon as it reached his -ears, his protest appearing in July 1801 in the _Spectateur du Nord_, -published in Hamburg.--B. - -[231] Jean François du Theil (_circa_ 1760-1822) emigrated in 1790, -returned to France in 1792, during the captivity of Louis XVI., and -exposed himself to the greatest dangers in order to communicate with -the King. After escaping arrest, almost by a miracle, inside the Temple -itself, he returned to Germany, where he joined the Comte d'Artois. He -and the Duc d'Harcourt were together charged with the affairs of the -Comte d'Artois and the Comte de Provence (Louis XVIII.) in connection -with the British Government.--B. - -[232] Jacques Cathelineau (1758-1793), a weaver by trade and -Commander-in-Chief of the Vendéan Army. He was mortally wounded in the -assault upon Nantes (29 June 1793).--T. - -[233] Louis Marie Marquis de Lescure (1766-1793), a brilliant Vendéan -general, killed at the Tremblaye (3 November 1793).--T. - -[234] Gigot d'Elbée (1752-1794), nicknamed General Providence, from his -habit of relying on Providence for victory. He succeeded Cathelineau as -general-in-chief, but was a far from capable commander. He was wounded -at Chollet, and captured and shot on the island of Noirmoutiers.--T. - -[235] Henri du Vergier, Comte de La Rochejacquelein (1773-1794) -succeeded Lescure and repeatedly defeated the troops of the Republic. -He was killed at the fight of Nouaillé, near Chollet, 4 March 1794.--T. - -[236] Louis Marie Baron Turreau de Garambouville (1756-1816), -Commander-in-Chief of the Army of the West (1793). He was French -Ambassador to the United States from 1804 to 1810.--T. - -[237] Merlin de Thionville (1762-1833), the Conventional, so called to -distinguish him from Merlin de Douay, the jurisconsult.--T. - -[238] Marcus Aurelius Probus, Emperor of Rome (_circa_ 232-282), -conquered and pacified Gaul, restoring the vineyards destroyed by order -of Domitian.--T. - -[239] The "Jacquerie" was a faction which ravaged France during the -captivity of King John in England (1358). It consisted of peasants -who had revolted against their feudal lords, and was led by a certain -Guillaume Caillet, nicknamed "Jacques Bonhomme," after whom the -"Jacques" called themselves.--T. - -[240] Charles V., King of France (1337-1380), known as Charles the -Wise, son and successor of John II. He successfully resisted the -English invasion under Edward III., and recovered a large portion of -the country, leaving Bordeaux, Calais, Cherbourg, Bayonne, and several -fortresses in the hands of the English at his death.--T. - -[241] Charles VII., King of France (1403-1461), surnamed Charles the -Victorious, with the assistance of Joan of Arc, drove the English out -of all France, with the sole exception of Calais.--T. - -[242] François Athanase Charette de La Contrie (1763-1796) was at the -head of the Poitou peasants in the rising of the Vendée and joined -forces with Cathelineau. Discords broke out between the Royalist -chiefs, and Charette left the army with his division and fought alone, -capturing the Republican camp at Saint-Christophe, near Challans, in -1794. In 1796, Hoche utterly destroyed his small force, and Charette -himself was taken prisoner and shot at Nantes.--T. - -[243] Louis Antoine Henri de Bourbon-Condé, Duc d'Enghien (1772-1804), -son of the Duc de Bourbon and grandson of the Prince de Condé. He -was arrested on neutral territory and shot, after a mock trial, at -Vincennes, by order of Napoleon (21 March 1804). Chateaubriand resigned -his diplomatic appointment, as will appear, immediately after learning -the news of this crime.--T. - -[244] The Duc de Bourbon, father of the Duc d'Enghien, became "the Last -of the Condés" on the latter's death.--T. - -[245] Chantilly was the seat of the Condé family: the Duc de Bourbon -left it on his death (1830) to the Duc d'Aumale, who bequeathed it to -the French Nation.--T. - -[246] The street in which M. du Theil lived.--_Author's Note._ - - - - -BOOK IX[247] - - -Death of my mother--I return to religion--The _Génie du -Christianisme_--Letter from the Chevalier de Panat--My uncle, M. de -Bedée: his eldest daughter--English literature--Decline of the old -school--Historians--Poets--Publicists--Shakespeare--Old novels--New -novels--Richardson--Sir Walter Scott--New poetry--Beattie--Lord -Byron--England from Richmond to Greenwich--A trip with -Peltier--Blenheim--Stowe--Hampton Court--Oxford--Eton College--Private -manners--Political manners--Fox--Pitt--Burke--George III.--Return -of the emigrants to France--The Prussian Minister gives me a false -passport in the name of La Sagne, a resident of Neuchâtel in -Switzerland--Death of Lord Londonderry--End of my career as a soldier -and traveller--I land at Calais. - - - Alloquar? audiero nunquam tua facta loquentem? - Nunquam ego te, vita frater amabilior, - Aspiciam posthac? At certe semper amabo[248]. - - -I have just taken leave of a friend, I am about to take leave of -a mother: one has constantly to repeat the verses which Catullus -addressed to his brother. In our vale of tears, as in Hell, there -is a strange, eternal wailing, which forms the accompaniment or the -prevailing note of human lamentations; it is heard unceasingly, and it -would continue when all other created sorrows had come to be silent. - -A letter from Julie, which I received soon after that from Fontanes, -confirmed my sad remark on my gradual isolation: Fontanes urged me -to "work, to become illustrious;" my sister begged me to "give up -writing:" one put glory before me, the other oblivion. This train of -thought is described in the story of Madame de Farcy; she had grown to -hate literature, because she regarded it as one of the temptations of -her life. - - "SAINT-SERVAN, 1 _July_ 1798. - - "Dear, we have just lost the best of mothers: I grieve to - inform you of this fatal blow. When you cease to be the - object of our solicitude, we shall have ceased to live. If - you knew how many tears your errors had caused our venerable - mother to shed; how deplorable they appear to all who think - and profess not only piety, but reason: if you knew this, - perhaps it would help to open your eyes, to induce you - to give up writing; and if Heaven, moved by our prayers, - permitted us to meet again, you would find in the midst of us - all the happiness one is allowed on earth; you would give us - that happiness, for there is none for us so long as you are - not with us and we have cause to be anxious as to your fate." - -Ah, why did I not follow my sister's advice? Why did I continue to -write? Had my age remained without my writings, would anything have -been changed in the events and spirit of that age? - -And so I had lost my mother; and so I had distressed the last hour -of her life! While she was drawing her last breath far from her last -son, and praying for him, what was I doing in London? Perhaps I was -strolling in the cool morning air at the moment when the sweat of death -covered my mother's forehead without having my hand to wipe it away! - -[Sidenote: The _Génie du Christianisme._] - -The filial affection which I preserved for Madame de Chateaubriand was -deep. My childhood and youth were intimately linked with the memory -of my mother. The idea that I had poisoned the old days of the woman -who bore me in her womb filled me with despair: I flung copies of the -_Essai_ into the fire with horror, as the instrument of my crime; -had it been possible for me to destroy the whole work, I should have -done so without hesitation. I did not recover from my distress until -the thought occurred to me of expiating my first work by means of a -religious work: this was the origin of the _Génie du Christianisme._ - -* - -"My mother," I said, in the first preface to that work, "after being -flung, at the age of seventy-two years, into dungeons where she saw -part of her children die, expired at last on a pallet to which her -misfortunes had reduced her. The recollection of my errors cast a -great bitterness over her last days; when dying, she charged one of -my sisters to call me back to the religion in which I was brought up. -My sister acquainted me with my mother's last wish. When the letter -reached me across the sea, my sister herself was no more; she too had -died from the effects of her imprisonment. Those two voices from the -tomb, that death which acted as death's interpreter impressed me. I -became a Christian. I did not yield, I admit, to great supernatural -enlightenment: my conviction came from the heart; I wept and I -believed." - -* - -I exaggerated my fault: the _Essai_ was not an impious book, but a book -of doubt, of sorrow. Through the darkness of that book glides a ray -of the Christian light that shone upon my cradle. It needed no great -effort to return from the scepticism of the _Essai_ to the certainty of -the _Génie du Christianisme._ - -* - -When, after receiving the sad news of Madame de Chateaubriand's death, -I resolved suddenly to change my course, the title of _Génie du -Christianisme_, which I found on the spot, inspired me: I set to work; -I toiled with the ardour of a son building a mausoleum to his mother. -My materials were since long collected and rough-hewn by my previous -studies. I knew the works of the Fathers better than they are known in -our times; I had even studied them in order to oppugn them, and having -entered upon that road with bad intentions, instead of leaving it as a -victor, I left it vanquished. - -As to history properly so-called, I had occupied myself with it -specially in composing the _Essai sur les Révolutions._ The Camden -originals which I had lately examined had made me familiar with the -manners and institutions of the Middle Ages. Lastly, my terrible -manuscript of the _Natchez_, in 2393 pages folio, contained all that I -needed for the _Génie du Christianisme_ in the way of descriptions of -nature; I was able to draw largely upon that source, as I had done for -the _Essai_. - -I wrote the first part of the _Génie du Christianisme._ Messrs. -Dulau[249], who had become the booksellers of the French emigrant -clergy, undertook the publication. The first sheets of the first volume -were printed. The work thus begun in London in 1799 was completed -only in Paris in 1802: see the different prefaces to the _Génie du -Christianisme._ I was devoured by a sort of fever during the whole -time of writing: no one will ever know what it means to carry at the -same time in one's brain, in one's blood, and in one's soul, _Atala_ -and _René_, and to combine with the painful child-birth of those fiery -twins the labour of conception attending the other parts of the _Génie -du Christianisme._ The memory of Charlotte penetrated and warmed all -that, and to give me the finishing stroke, the first longing for fame -inflamed my exalted imagination. - -This longing came to me from filial affection: I wanted a great renown, -so that it might rise till it reached my mother's dwelling-place, and -that the angels might carry her my solemn expiation. - -As one study leads to another, I could not occupy myself with my French -scholia without taking note of the literature and men of the country -in which I lived: I was drawn into these fresh researches. My days and -nights were spent in reading, in writing, in taking lessons in Hebrew -from a learned priest, the Abbé Capelan, in consulting libraries and -men of attainments, in roaming about the fields with my everlasting -reveries, in paying and receiving visits. If such things exist as -retroactive and symptomatic effects of future events, I might have -foreseen the bustle and uproar created by the book which was to make my -name from the seething of my mind and the throbbing of my inner muse. - -Reading aloud to others my first rough drafts helped to enlighten -me. Reading aloud is an excellent form of instruction, when one does -not take the necessary compliments for gospel. Provided an author -be in earnest, he will soon feel, through the impression which he -instinctively receives from the others, which are the weak places in -his work, and especially whether that work is too long or too short, -whether he keeps, does not reach, or exceeds the right dimensions. - -[Sidenote: A letter from Panat.] - -I have discovered a letter from the Chevalier de Panat on the readings -from a work at that time so unknown. The letter is charming: the dirty -chevalier's positive and scoffing spirit did not seem susceptible of -thus rubbing itself with poetry. I have no hesitation in giving this -letter, a document of my history, although it is stained from end to -end with my praises, as though the sly author had taken pleasure in -emptying his ink-pot over his epistle: - - "_Monday._ - - "Heavens, what an interesting reading I owed to your extreme - kindness this morning! Our religion had numbered among - its defenders great geniuses, illustrious Fathers of the - Church: those athletes had wielded with vigour all the arms - of reasoning; incredulity was vanquished; but that was not - enough: it was still necessary to show all the charms of - that admirable religion; it was necessary to show how suited - it is to the human heart and what magnificent pictures it - offers to the imagination. It is no longer a theologian in - the school, it is the great painter and the man sensitive to - impressions who open up a new horizon for themselves. Your - work was wanted, and you were called upon to write it. Nature - has eminently endowed you with the great qualities which this - work requires: you belong to another age.... - - "Ah, if the truths of sentiment rank first in the order of - nature, none will have proved better than yourself those of - our religion; you will have confounded the unbelievers at the - gate of the Temple and introduced delicate minds and sensible - hearts into the sanctuaries. You bring back to me those - ancient philosophers who gave their lessons with their heads - crowned with flowers, their hands filled with sweet perfumes. - This is a very feeble image of your suave, pure and classic - mind. - - "I congratulate myself daily on the happy circumstance which - made me acquainted with you; I can never forget that it was - Fontanes who did me that kindness; I shall love him for it - the more, and my heart will never separate two names whom the - same glory is bound to unite, if Providence re-opens to us - the doors of our native land. - - "CHEV. DE PANAT." - - -The Abbé Delille also heard some fragments of the _Génie du -Christianisme_ read. He seemed surprised, and did me the honour, -soon after, to put into verse the prose which had pleased him. He -naturalized my wild American flowers in his various French gardens, and -put my somewhat hot wine to cool in the frigid water from his clear -spring. - -The unfinished edition of the _Génie du Christianisme_, commenced in -London, was a little different, in the order of the contents, from the -edition published in France. The consular censure, which soon became -imperial, showed itself very touchy on the subject of kings: their -persons, their honour and their virtue were dear to it beforehand. -Already Fouché's police saw the white pigeon, the symbol of Bonaparte's -candour and revolutionary innocence, descend from Heaven with the -sacred phial. The true believers who had taken part in the Republican -processions of Lyons compelled me to cut out a chapter entitled the -_Rois athées_, and to distribute paragraphs from it here and there in -the body of the work. - -* - -Before continuing these literary investigations I must interrupt -them for a moment to take leave of my uncle de Bedée; alas, that -means taking leave of the first joy of my life: _freno non remorante -dies_[250]! See the old sepulchres in the old crypts: themselves -overcome by age, decrepit and without memory, having lost their -epitaphs, they have forgotten the very names of those whose ashes they -contain. - -I had written to my uncle on the subject of my mother's death: he -replied with a long letter containing some touching words of regret; -but three-quarters of his double folio sheet were devoted to my -genealogy. He begged me above all, when I should return to France, -to look up the title-deeds of the "Bedée quartering," entrusted to -my brother. And so, to this venerable Emigrant, exile, ruin, the -destruction of his kin, the sacrifice of Louis XVI. alike failed to -make the fact of the Revolution clear to him; nothing had happened, -nothing come to pass; he had gone no farther than the States of -Brittany and the Assembly of the Nobles. This fixity of ideas in man is -very striking in the midst and as it were in presence of the alteration -of his body, the flight of his years, the loss of his relations and -friends. - -[Sidenote: Death of my uncle de Bedée.] - -On his return from the Emigration, my uncle de Bedée went to live at -Dinan, where he died, six leagues from Monchoix, without having seen it -again. My cousin Caroline[251], the oldest of my three cousins, still -lives. She has remained an old maid in spite of the formal requests -for her hand made in her former youth. She writes me letters, badly -spelt, in which she addresses me in the second person singular, calls -me "chevalier," and talks to me of our good time: _in illo tempore._ -She was endowed with a pair of fine dark eyes and a comely figure; she -danced like the Camargo[252], and she seems to recollect that I bore -a fierce passion for her in secret. I reply in the same tone, laying -aside, in imitation of her, my years, my honours and my reputation: - -"Yes, dear Caroline, your chevalier," etc. - -It must be some six or seven lustres since we met: Heaven be praised -for it, for God alone knows, if we came to embracing, what kind of -figure we should cut in each other's eyes! - -Sweet, patriarchal, innocent, creditable family friendship, your age -is past! We no longer cling to the soil by a multitude of blossoms, -sprouts and roots; we are born and die singly nowadays. The living -are in haste to fling the deceased to Eternity, and to be rid of his -corpse. Of his friends, some go and await the coffin at the church, -grumbling the while at being put out and disturbed in their habits; -others carry their devotion so far as to follow the funeral to the -cemetery: the grave once filled up, all recollection is obliterated. -You will never return, O days of religion and affection, in which the -son died in the same house, in the same arm-chair, by the same fireside -where died his father and his grandfather before him, surrounded, as -they had been, by weeping children and grandchildren, upon whom fell -the last paternal blessing! - -Farewell, my beloved uncle! Farewell, family of my mother, which are -disappearing like the other portion of my family! Farewell, my cousin -of days long past, who love me still as you loved me when we listened -together to our kind aunt de Boistelleul's ballad of the Sparrow-hawk, -or when you assisted at my release from my nurse's vow at the Abbey -of Nazareth! If you survive me, accept the share of gratitude and -affection which I here bequeath to you. Attach no belief to the false -smile outlined on my lips in speaking of you: my eyes, I assure you, -are full of tears. - -* - -My studies correlative to the _Génie du Christianisme_ had gradually, -as I have said, led me to make a more thorough examination of English -literature. When I took refuge in England in 1793, it became necessary -for me to redress most of the judgments which I had drawn from the -criticisms. As regards the historians, Hume[253] was reputed a Tory -and reactionary writer: he was accused, as was Gibbon, of over-loading -the English language with gallicisms; people preferred his continuer, -Smollett[254]. Gibbon[255], a philosopher during his lifetime, became a -Christian on his death-bed, and in that capacity was duly convicted of -being a sorry individual. Robertson[256] was still spoken of, because -he was dry. - -[Sidenote: English literature.] - -Where the poets were concerned, the "elegant extracts" served as a -place of banishment for a few pieces by Dryden[257]; people refused to -forgive Pope[258] for his verse, although they visited his house at -Twickenham and cut chips from the weeping-willow planted by him and -withered like his fame. - -Blair[259] was looked upon as a tedious critic with a French style; he -was placed far below Johnson[260]. As to the old _Spectator_[261], it -was relegated to the lumber-room. - -English political works have little interest for us. The economic -treatises are less stinted in their scope: their calculations on the -wealth of nations, the employment of capital, the balance of trade, -are applicable in part to the different European societies. Burke[262] -emerged from the national political individuality: by declaring himself -opposed to the French Revolution, he dragged his country into the long -road of hostilities which ended in the plains of Waterloo. - -However, great figures remained. One met with Milton and Shakespeare -on every hand. Did Montmorency[263], Byron[264], Sully[265], by turns -French Ambassadors to the Courts of Elizabeth[266] and James I.[267], -ever hear speak of a merry-andrew who acted in his own and other -writers' farces? Did they ever pronounce the name, so outlandish in -French, of Shakespeare? Did they suspect that there was here a glory -before which their honours, pomps and ranks would become as nothing? -Well, the comedian who undertook the part of the Ghost in _Hamlet_ was -the great spectre, the shade of the Middle Ages which rose over the -world like the evening star, at the moment when the Middle Ages were at -last descending among the dead: giant centuries which Dante[268] opened -and Shakespeare closed. - -In the Memorials of Whitelock[269], the contemporary of the singer of -Paradise Lost, we read of "one Mr. Milton, a blind man, parliamentary -secretary for Latin despatches." - -Molière[270], the "stage-player," performed his Pourceaugnac in the -same way that Shakespeare, the "buffoon," clowned his Falstaff. - -Those veiled travellers, who come from time to time to sit at our -board, are treated by us as ordinary guests; we remain unaware of their -nature until the day of their disappearance. On leaving the earth, they -become transfigured, and say to us, as the angel from heaven said to -Tobias: - -"I am one of the seven who stand before the Lord[271]." - -But, though misunderstood by men on their passage, those divinities do -not fail to recognise one another. Milton asks: - - What needs my Shakespeare, for his honour'd bones, - The labour of an age in piled stones[272]? - -Michael Angelo[273], envying Dante's lot and genius, exclaims: - - Pur fuss'io tal... - Per l'aspro esilio suo con sua virtute - Darci del mondo più felice stato. - -Tasso celebrates Camoëns, as yet almost unknown, and acts as his -"Fame." Is there anything more admirable than the society of -illustrious people revealing themselves, one to the other, by means of -signs, greeting one another and communing with each other in a language -understood by themselves alone? - -[Sidenote: Shakespeare.] - -Was Shakespeare lame, like Lord Byron, Sir Walter Scott[274], and the -Prayers, the daughters of Jupiter? If he was so in fact, the "Boy" -of Stratford, far from being ashamed of his infirmity, as was Childe -Harold, is not afraid to remind one of his mistresses of it: - - So I, made lame by fortune's dearest spite[275]. - -Shakespeare must have had many loves, if we were to count one for each -sonnet. The creator of Desdemona and Juliet grew old without ceasing -to be in love. Was the unknown woman to whom he addresses his charming -verses proud and happy to be the object of Shakespeare's Sonnets? It -may be doubted: glory is to an old man what diamonds are to an old -woman; they adorn, but cannot make her beautiful. Says the English -tragic poet to his mistress: - - No longer mourn for me when I am dead - . . . . . . - Nay, if you read this line, remember not - The hand that writ it; for I love you so, - That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, - If thinking on me then should make you woe. - O, if, I say, you look upon this verse - When I perhaps compounded am with clay, - Do not so much as my poor name rehearse, - But let your love even with my life decay[276]. - -Shakespeare loved, but believed no more in love than he believed in -other things: a woman to him was a bird, a zephyr, a flower, a thing -that charms and passes. Through his indifference to, or ignorance of, -his fame, through his condition, which set him without the pale of -society and of a position to which he could not hope to attain, he -seemed to have taken life as a light, unoccupied hour, a swift and -gentle leisure. - -Shakespeare, in his youth, met old monks driven from their cloister, -who had seen Henry VIII., his reforms, his destructions of monasteries, -his "fools," his wives, his mistresses, his headsmen. When the poet -departed from life, Charles I. was sixteen years of age. Thus, with one -hand, Shakespeare was able to touch the whitened heads once threatened -by the sword of the second of the Tudors and, with the other, the -brown head of the second of the Stuarts, destined to be laid low by -the axe of the Parliamentarians. Leaning upon those tragic brows, the -great tragedian sank into the tomb; he filled the interval of the days -in which he lived with his ghosts, his blind kings, his ambitious -men punished, his unfortunate women, so as to join together, through -analogous fictions, the realities of the past and of the future. - -Shakespeare is of the number of the five or six writers who have -sufficed for the needs and nutriment of thought: those parent -geniuses seem to have brought forth and suckled all the others. Homer -impregnated antiquity: Æschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, Aristophanes, -Horace, Virgil are his sons. Dante engendered Modern Italy, from -Petrarch to Tasso. Rabelais created French literature: Montaigne, La -Fontaine, Molière descend from him. England is all Shakespeare, and in -these later days he has lent his language to Byron, his dialogue to -Walter Scott. - -Men often disown these supreme masters; they rebel against them; they -reckon up their faults: they accuse them of tediousness, of length, -of extravagance, of bad taste, what time they plunder them and deck -themselves in their spoils; but they struggle in vain against their -yoke. Everything wears their colours; they have left their traces -everywhere; they invent words and names which go to swell the general -vocabulary of the nations; their expressions become proverbs, their -fictitious characters change into real characters, with heirs and a -lineage. They open out horizons whence burst forth sheaves of light; -they sow ideas, the germs of a thousand others; they supply all the -arts with imaginations, subjects, styles: their works are the mines or -the bowels of the human mind. - -These geniuses occupy the first rank; their vastness, their variety, -their fruitfulness, their originality cause them to be accepted from -the very first as laws, models, moulds, types of the various forms of -intellect, even as there are four or five races of men issuing from one -single stock, of which the others are only branches. Let us take care -how we insult the disorders into which these mighty beings sometimes -fall: let us not imitate Ham, the accursed; let us not laugh if we see -the sole and solitary mariner of the deep lying naked and asleep, in -the shadow of the Ark resting upon the mountains of Armenia. Let us -respect that diluvial navigator, who recommenced the Creation after the -flood-gates of Heaven were shut up: let us, as pious children, blessed -by our father, modestly cover him with our cloak. - -Shakespeare, in his lifetime, never thought of living after his life: -what signifies to him to-day my hymn of admiration? Admitting every -supposition, reasoning from the truths or falsehoods with which the -human mind is penetrated or imbued, what cares Shakespeare for a renown -of which the sound cannot rise to where he is? A Christian? In the -midst of eternal bliss, does he think of the nothingness of the world? -A deist? Freed from the shades of matter, lost in the splendours of -God, does he cast down a look upon the grain of sand over which he -passed? An atheist? He sleeps the sleep without breathing or awakening -which we call death. Nothing therefore is vainer than glory beyond the -tomb, unless it have kept friendship alive, unless it have been useful -to virtue, helpful to misfortune, unless it be granted to us to rejoice -in Heaven in a consoling, generous, liberating idea left behind by us -upon earth. - -* - -[Sidenote: Samuel Richardson.] - -Novels, at the end of the last century, had been included in -the general proscription. Richardson[277] slept forgotten: his -fellow-countrymen discovered in his style traces of the inferior -society in which he had spent his life. Fielding[278] maintained his -success; Sterne[279], the purveyor of eccentricity, was out of date. -The _Vicar of Wakefield_ was still read[280]. - -If Richardson has no style, a question of which we foreigners are -unable to judge, he will not live, because one lives only by style. It -is vain to rebel against this truth: the best-composed work, adorned -with life-like portraits, filled with a thousand other perfections, is -still-born if the style be wanting. Style, and there are a thousand -kinds, is not learnt; it is the gift of Heaven, it is talent. But, -if Richardson has only been forsaken because of certain homely turns -of expression, insufferable to an elegant society, he may revive: -the revolution which is being worked, in lowering the aristocracy -and raising the middle classes, will render less apparent, or cause -entirely to disappear, the traces of homespun habits and of an inferior -language. - -From _Clarissa_ and _Tom Jones_ sprang the two principal branches of -the family of modern English novels: the novels of family pictures and -domestic dramas, and the novels of adventure and pictures of general -society. After Richardson, the manners of the West End invaded the -domain of fiction: the novels became filled with country-houses, lords -and ladies, scenes at the waters, adventures at the races, the ball, -the opera, Ranelagh, with a never-ending chit-chat and tittle-tattle. -The scene was rapidly changed to Italy; the lovers crossed the Alps -amid terrible dangers and sorrows of the soul calculated to move lions: -"the lion shed tears!" A jargon of good company was adopted. - -Of the thousands of novels which have flooded England since the last -fifty years, two have kept their places: _Caleb Williams_[281] and the -_Monk._ I did not see Godwin during my stay in London; but I twice -met Lewis[282]. He was a young member of the House of Commons, very -pleasant, with the air and manners of a Frenchman. The works of Ann -Radcliffe[283] are of a class apart Those of Mrs. Barbauld[284], Miss -Edgeworth[285], Miss Burney[286], etc., have a chance of living. - -* - -"There should," says Montaigne, "be some correction appointed by the -laws against foolish and unprofitable writers, as there is against -vagabonds and loiterers; so should both my selfe and a hundred others -of our people be banished.... Scribbling seemeth to be a symptome or -passion of an irregular and licentious age[287]." - -* - -[Sidenote: Sir Walter Scott.] - -But these different schools of sedentary novelists, of novelists -travelling by diligence or calash, of novelists of lakes and mountains, -ruins and ghosts, of novelists of cities and drawing-rooms, have -come to be lost in the new school of Walter Scott, even as poetry -has precipitated itself in the steps of Lord Byron. The illustrious -painter of Scotland started his career in literature during my exile -in London with his translation of Goethe's _Berlichingen._[288] He -continued to make himself known by poetry, and ultimately the bent of -his genius led him towards the novel. He seems to me to have created a -false manner: the romancer set himself to write historical romances, -and the historian romantic histories. If, in reading Walter Scott, I -am sometimes obliged to skip interminable conversations, the fault is -doubtless mine; but one of Walter Scott's great merits, in my eyes, is -that he can be placed in the hands of everybody. It requires greater -efforts of talent to interest while keeping within the limits of -decency than to please when exceeding all bounds; it is less easy to -rule the heart than to disturb it. - -Burke kept the politics of England in the past. Walter Scott -drove back the English to the Middle Ages; all that they wrote, -manufactured, built, became Gothic: books, furniture, houses, -churches, country-seats. But the barons of Magna Charta are to-day the -fashionables of Bond Street, a frivolous race camping in the ancient -manor-houses while awaiting the arrival of the new generations which -are preparing to drive them out. - -* - -At the same time that the novel was passing into the "romantic" stage, -poetry was undergoing a similar transformation. Cowper[289] abandoned -the French in order to revive the national school; Burns[290] commenced -the same revolution in Scotland. After them came the restorers of the -ballads. Several of those poets of 1792 to 1800 belonged to what was -called the "Lake school," a name which survived, because the romantic -poets lived on the shores of the Cumberland and Westmoreland lakes, -which they sometimes sang. - -Thomas Moore[291], Campbell[292], Rogers[293], Crabbe[294], -Wordsworth[295], Southey[296], Hunt[297], Knowles[298], Lord -Holland[299], Canning[300], Croker[301] are still living to do honour -to English literature; but one must be of English birth to appreciate -the full merit of an intimate class of composition which appeals -specially to men born on the soil. - -None is a competent judge, in living literature, of other than works -written in his own tongue. It is in vain that you believe yourself -thoroughly acquainted with a foreign idiom: you lack the nurse's milk, -together with the first words which she teaches you at her breast and -in your swaddling-clothes; certain accents belong to the mother country -alone. The English and Germans have the strangest notions concerning -our men of letters: they worship what we despise, and despise what -we worship; they do not understand Racine nor La Fontaine, nor even -Molière completely. It is ludicrous to know who are considered our -great writers in London, Vienna, Berlin, St Petersburg, Munich, -Leipzig, Göttingen, Cologne, to know what is read there with avidity -and what not at all. - -When an author's merit lies especially in his diction, no foreigner -will ever understand that merit. The more intimate, individual, -rational a talent is, the more do its mysteries escape the mind which -is not, so to speak, that talent's fellow-countryman. We admire the -Greeks and Romans on trust; our admiration comes to us by tradition, -and the Greeks and Romans are not there to laugh at our barbarian -judgments. Which of us has an idea of the harmony of the prose of -Demosthenes and Cicero, of the cadence of the verses of Alcæus and -Horace, as they were caught by a Greek or Latin ear? Men maintain that -real beauties are of all times, all countries: yes, beauties of feeling -and of thought; not beauties of style. Style is not cosmopolitan like -thought: it has a native land, a sky, a sun of its own. - -Burns, Mason[302], Cowper died during my emigration, before 1800 and -in 1800: they ended the century; I commenced it. Darwin[303] and -Beattie[304] died two years after my return from exile. - -[Sidenote: James Beattie.] - -Beattie had announced the new era of the lyre. The _Minstrel, or the -Progress of Genius_ is the picture of the first effects of the muse -upon a young bard who is as yet unaware of the inspiration with which -he is tossed. Now the future poet goes and sits by the sea-shore during -a tempest; again he leaves the village sports to listen in some lonely -spot to the distant sound of the pipes. Beattie has run through the -entire series of reveries and melancholy ideas of which a hundred other -poets have believed themselves the discoverers. Beattie proposed to -continue his poem; he did, in fact, write the second canto: Edwin one -evening hears a grave voice ascend from the bottom of the valley; it -is the voice of a solitary who, after tasting the illusions of the -world, has buried himself in that retreat, there to collect his soul -and to sing the marvels of the Creator. This hermit instructs the young -minstrel and reveals to him the secret of his genius. Beattie was -destined to shed tears; the death of his son broke his paternal heart: -like Ossian, after the loss of his son Oscar, he hung his harp on the -branches of an oak. Perhaps Beattie's son was the young minstrel whom a -father had sung and whose footsteps he no longer saw on the mountain. - -* - -Lord Byron's verses contain striking imitations of the Minstrel. At the -time of my exile in England, Lord Byron was living at Harrow School, -in a village ten miles from London. He was a child, I was young and -as unknown as he; he had been brought up on the heaths of Scotland, -by the sea-side, as I in the marshes of Brittany, by the sea-side; he -first loved the Bible and Ossian, as I loved them; he sang the memories -of his childhood in Newstead Abbey, as I sang mine in Combourg Castle: - - When I roved a young Highlander o'er the dark heath. - And climb'd thy steep summit, O Morven of snow! - To gaze on the torrent that thunder'd beneath, - Or the mist of the tempest that gather'd below[305]. - -In my wanderings in the neighbourhood of London, when I was so unhappy, -I passed through the village of Harrow a score of times, without -suspecting the genius it contained. I have sat in the churchyard at the -foot of the elm beneath which, in 1807, Lord Byron wrote these verses, -at the time when I was returning from Palestine: - - Spot of my youth! whose hoary branches sigh, - Swept by the breeze that fans thy cloudless sky; - Where now alone I muse, who oft have trod, - With those I loved, thy soft and verdant sod. - . . . . . . . . - When fate shall chill, at length, this fever'd breast, - And calm its cares and passions into rest, - . . . . . . . . - . . . . here my heart might lie; - Here might I sleep where all my hopes arose, - . . . . . . . . - Mix'd with the earth o'er which my footsteps moved; - . . . . . . . . - Deplored by those in early days allied, - And unremembered by the world beside[306]. - -And I shall say: Hail, ancient elm, at whose foot the child Byron -indulged in the fancies of his age, while I was dreaming of _René_ -beneath thy shade, the same shade beneath which later, in his turn, the -poet came to dream of _Childe Harold!_ Byron asked of the churchyard, -which witnessed the first sports of his life, an unknown grave: a -useless prayer, which fame will not grant. Nevertheless, Byron is no -longer what he has been; I had come across him in all directions living -at Venice: at the end of a few years, in the same town where I had -met with his name on every hand, I found him everywhere eclipsed and -unknown. The echoes of the Lido no longer repeat his name and, if you -ask after him of the Venetians, they no longer know of whom you speak. -Lord Byron is entirely dead for them; they no longer hear the neighing -of his horse: it is the same thing in London, where his memory is -fading. That is what we become. - -If I have passed by Harrow without knowing that the child Byron was -drawing breath there, Englishmen have passed by Combourg without -suspecting that a little vagabond, brought up in those woods, would -leave any trace. Arthur Young[307], the traveller, when passing through -Combourg, wrote: - - "To Combourg [from Pontorson] the country has a savage - aspect; husbandry has not much further advanced, at least in - skill, than among the Hurons, which appears incredible amidst - inclosures; the people almost as wild as their country, and - their town of Combourg one of the most brutal filthy places - that can be seen; mud houses, no windows, and a pavement so - broken as to impede all passengers, but ease none-yet here is - a chateau, and inhabited; who is this Mons. de Chateaubriand, - the owner, that has nerves strung for a residence amidst such - filth and poverty? Below this hideous heap of wretchedness is - a fine lake, surrounded by well-wooded inclosures[308]." - - -That M. de Chateaubriand was my father; the residence which seemed so -hideous to the ill-humoured agriculturist is none the less a fine and -stately home, sombre and grave though it may be. As for me, a feeble -ivy-shoot commencing to climb at the foot of those fierce towers, would -Mr. Young have noticed me, he who was interested only in inspecting our -harvests? - -[Sidenote: Lord Byron.] - -Give me leave to add to the above pages, written in England in 1822, -the following written in 1824 and 1840: they will complete the portion -relating to Lord Byron; this portion will be more particularly -perfected when the reader has perused what I shall have to say of the -great poet on passing to Venice. - -There may perhaps be some interest in the future in remarking the -coincidence of the two leaders of the new French and English schools -having a common fund of nearly parallel ideas and destinies, if not of -morals: one a peer of England, the other a peer of France; both Eastern -travellers, not infrequently near each other, yet never seeing one -another: only, the life of the English poet has been connected with -events less great than mine. - -Lord Byron visited the ruins of Greece after me: in _Childe Harold_ -he seems to embellish with his own pigments the descriptions in the -_Itinéraire._ At the commencement of my pilgrimage I gave the Sire de -Joinville's farewell to his castle: Byron bids a similar farewell to -his Gothic home. - -In the _Martyrs_, Eudore sets out from Messenia to go to Rome: - - "Our voyage was long," he says; "... we saw all those - promontories marked by temples or tombstones.... My young - companions had heard speak of nought save the metamorphoses - of Jupiter, and they understood nothing of the remains they - saw before them; I myself had already sat, with the prophet, - on the ruins of devastated cities, and Babylon taught me to - know Corinth[309]." - - -The English poet is like the French prose-writer, following the letter -of Sulpicius to Cicero[310]: a coincidence so perfect is a singularly -proud one for me, because I anticipated the immortal singer on the -shore where we gathered the same memories and celebrated the same ruins. - -I have again the honour of being connected with Lord Byron in our -descriptions of Rome: the _Martyrs_ and my _Lettre sur la campagne -romaine_ possess, for me, the inestimable advantage of having divined -the aspirations of a fine genius. - -The early translators, commentators and admirers of Lord Byron were -careful not to point out that some pages of my works might have -lingered for a moment in the memory of the painter of _Childe Harold_; -they would have thought that they were depreciating his genius. Now -that the enthusiasm has grown a little calmer this honour is not so -consistently refused to me. Our immortal song-writer[311], in the last -volume of his Chansons, says: - - "In one of the foregoing stanzas I speak of the 'lyres' which - France owes to M. de Chateaubriand. I do not fear that that - verse will be contradicted by the new poetic school, which, - born beneath the eagle's wings, has often and rightly prided - itself on that origin. The influence of the author of the - _Génie du Christianisme_ has also made itself felt abroad, - and it would perhaps be just to recognise that the singer of - _Childe Harold_ belongs to the family of _René._" - -In an excellent article on Lord Byron, M. Villemain[312] re-echoes M. -de Béranger's remark: - - "Some incomparable pages in _René_" he says, "had, it is - true, exhausted that poetic character. I do not know whether - Byron imitated them or revived them with his genius." - -[Sidenote: Literary affinity.] - -What I have just said as to the affinity of imagination and destiny -between the chronicles of _René_ and the singer of _Childe Harold_ -does not detract in the smallest degree from the fame of the immortal -bard. What harm can my pedestrian and luteless muse do to the muse of -the Dee[313], furnished with a lyre and wings? Lord Byron will live -whether, a child of his century like myself, he gave utterance, like -myself and like Goethe before us, to its passion and misfortune, or -whether my circumnavigation and the lantern of my Gallic bark showed -the vessel of Albion the track across unexplored waters. - -Besides, two minds of an analogous nature may easily have similar -conceptions without being reproached with slavishly following the same -road. It is permitted to take advantage of ideas and images expressed -in a foreign language, in order with them to enrich one's own: that has -occurred in all ages and at all times. I recognise without hesitation -that, in my early youth, Ossian[314], _Werther_[315], the _Rêveries du -promeneur solitaire_[316] and the _Études de la nature_[317] may have -allied themselves to my ideas; but I have hidden or dissimulated none -of the pleasure caused me by works in which I delighted. - -If it were true that _René_ entered to some extent into the groundwork -of the one person represented under different names in _Childe-Harold, -Conrad, Lara, Manfred_, the _Giaour_; if, by chance, Lord Byron had -made me live in his own life, would he then have had the weakness never -to mention me[318]? Was I then one of those fathers whom men deny -when they have attained to power? Can Lord Byron have been completely -ignorant of me when he quotes almost all the French authors who are his -contemporaries? Did he never hear speak of me, when the English papers, -like the French papers, have resounded a score of times in his hearing -with controversies on my works, when the _New Times_ drew a parallel -between the author of the _Génie du Christianisme_ and the author of -_Childe-Harold?_ - -No intelligence, however favoured it be, but has its susceptibilities, -its distrusts: one wishes to keep the sceptre, fears to share it, -resents comparisons. In the same way, another superior talent has -avoided the mention of my name in a work on Literature[319]. Thank God, -rating myself at my just value, I have never aimed at empire; since -I believe in nothing except the religious truth, of which liberty is -a form, I have no more faith in myself than in any other thing here -below. But I have never felt a need to be silent, where I have admired; -that is why I proclaim my enthusiasm for Madame de Staël and Lord -Byron. What is sweeter than admiration? It is love in Heaven, affection -raised to a cult; we feel ourselves thrilled with gratitude for the -divinity which extends the bases of our faculties, opens out new views -to our souls, gives us a happiness so great and so pure, with no -admixture of fear or envy. - -For the rest, the little cavil which I have raised in these Memoirs -against the greatest poet whom England has possessed since Milton -proves only one thing: the high value which I would have attached to -the recollection of his muse. - -[Sidenote: The real Byron.] - -Lord Byron started a deplorable school: I presume he has been as much -distressed at the Childe-Harolds to whom he gave birth as I am at the -Renés who rave around me. - -The life of Lord Byron is the object of much investigation and calumny: -young men have taken magic words seriously; women have felt disposed -to allow themselves affrightedly to be seduced by that "monster," to -console that solitary and unhappy Satan. Who knows? He had perhaps -not found the woman he sought, a woman fair enough, a heart as big as -his own. Byron, according to the phantasmagorial opinion, is the old -serpent of seduction and corruption, because he sees the corruption -of the human race; he is a fatal and suffering genius, placed between -the mysteries of matter and mind, who is unable to solve the enigma of -the universe, who looks upon life as a frightful and causeless irony, -as a perverse smile of evil; he is the son of despair, who despises -and denies, who, bearing an incurable wound within himself, seeks his -revenge by leading through voluptuousness to sorrow all who approach -him; he is a man who has not passed through the age of innocence, who -has never had the advantage of being rejected and cursed by God: a -man who, issuing reprobate from nature's womb, is the damned soul of -nihility. - -This is the Byron of heated imaginations: it is by no means, to my -mind, the Byron of truth. Two different men are united in Lord Byron, -as in the majority of men: the man of _nature_ and the man of _system._ -The poet, perceiving the part which the public made him play, accepted -it and began to curse the world which at first he had only viewed -dreamily: this progress can be traced in the chronological order of his -works. His _genius_, far from having the extent attributed to it, is -fairly reserved; his poetic thought is no more than a moan, a plaint, -an imprecation; in that quality it is admirable: one must not ask the -lyre what it thinks, but what it sings. His _mind_ is sarcastic and -diversified, but of an exciting nature and a baneful influence: the -writer had read Voltaire to good purpose, and imitates him. - -Gifted with every advantage, Lord Byron had little with which to -reproach his birth; the very accident which made him unhappy and which -allied his superiority to the infirmity of mankind ought not to have -vexed him, since it did not prevent him from being loved. The immortal -singer knew from his own case the truth of Zeno's maxim: "The voice is -the flower of beauty." - -A deplorable thing is the rapidity with which, nowadays, reputations -pass away. At the end of a few years-what am I saying?--of a few -months, the infatuation disappears and disparagement follows upon -it. Already Lord Byron's glory is seen to pale; his genius is better -understood by ourselves; he will have altars longer in France than -in England. Since _Childe-Harold_ excels mainly in the depicting -of sentiments peculiar to the individual, the English, who prefer -sentiments common to all, will end by disowning the poet whose cry is -so deep and so sad. Let them look to it: if they shatter the image of -the man who has brought them to life again, what will they have left? - -* - -When, during my sojourn in London, in 1822, I wrote my opinion of -Lord Byron, he had no more than two years to live upon earth: he died -in 1824, at the moment when disenchantment and disgust were about to -commence for him. I preceded him in life; he preceded me in death; he -was called before his turn: my number was higher than his, and yet -his was drawn first. Childe-Harold should have remained; the world -could lose me without noticing my disappearance. On continuing my road -through life, I met Madame Guiccioli[320] in Rome, Lady Byron[321] in -Paris. Frailty and virtue thus appeared to me: the former had perhaps -too many realities, the latter too few dreams. - -* - -Now, after having talked to you of the English writers, at the period -when England served me as an asylum, it but remains for me to tell you -of England herself at that period, of her appearance, her sites, her -country-seats, her private and political manners. - -The whole of England may be seen in the space of four leagues, from -Richmond, above London, down to Greenwich and below. - -Below London lies industrial and commercial England, with her docks, -her warehouses, her custom-houses, her arsenals, her breweries, her -factories, her foundries, her ships; the latter, at each high tide, -ascend the Thames in three divisions: first, the smallest; then, the -middle-sized; lastly, the great vessels which graze with their sails -the columns of the Old Sailors' Hospital and the windows of the tavern -where the visitors dine. - -Above London lies agricultural and pastoral England, with her -meadows, her flocks and herds, her country-houses, her parks, whose -shrubs and lawns are bathed twice a day by the rising waters of the -Thames. Between these two opposite points, Richmond and Greenwich, -London blends all the characteristics of this two-fold England: the -aristocracy in the West End, the democracy in the East; the Tower of -London and Westminster Abbey are landmarks between which is laid the -whole history of Great Britain. - -[Sidenote: Richmond.] - -I passed a portion of the summer of 1799 at Richmond with Christian -de Lamoignon, occupying myself with the _Génie du Christianisme._ I -went on the Thames in a rowing-boat, or walked in Richmond Park. I -could have wished that Richmond by London had been the Richmond of -the treaty _Honor Richemundiæ_, for then I should have found myself -in my own country, and for this reason: William the Bastard made a -grant to Alan[322] Duke of Brittany, his son-in-law, of 442 English -feudal estates, which since formed the County of Richmond[323]: the -Dukes of Brittany, Alan's successors, enfeoffed these domains to Breton -knights, cadets of the families of Rohan, Tinténiac, Chateaubriand, -Goyon, Montboucher. But, in spite of my inclinations, I must look in -Yorkshire for the County of Richmond, raised to a duchy by Charles -II.[324] in favour of a bastard[325]: the Richmond on the Thames is -the Old Sheen of Edward III. There, in 1377, died Edward III., that -famous King robbed by his mistress, Alice Perrers[326], who was not -the same as the Alice or Catharine of Salisbury of the early days of -the life of the victor of Crecy: you should only love at the age when -you can be loved. Henry VIII. and Elizabeth also died at Richmond: -where does one not die? Henry VIII. took pleasure in this residence. -The English historians are greatly embarrassed by that abominable man: -on the one hand, they are unable to conceal the tyranny and servitude -to which the Parliament was subjected; on the other hand, if they too -heartily anathematized the Head of the Reformation, they would condemn -themselves in condemning him: - - Plus l'oppresseur est vil, plus l'esclave est infâme[327]. - -In Richmond Park is shown the mound which served Henry VIII. as an -observatory from which to spy for the news of the execution of Anne -Boleyn[328]. Henry leapt for joy when the signal shot up from the Tower -of London. What delight! The steel had cut through the slender neck, -and covered with blood the beautiful tresses to which the poet-King had -fastened his fatal kisses. - -In the deserted park at Richmond I awaited no murderous signal, I would -not even have wished the slightest harm to any who might have betrayed -me. I strolled among the peaceful deer: accustomed to run before a -pack of hounds, they stopped when they were tired; they were carried -back, very gay and quite amused with this game, in a cart filled with -straw. I went at Kew to see the kangaroos, ridiculous animals, the -exact opposite to the giraffe: these innocent four-footed grass hoppers -peopled Australia better than the old Duke of Queensberry's[329] -prostitutes peopled the lanes of Richmond. The Thames bathed the -lawn of a cottage half-hidden beneath a cedar of Lebanon and amidst -weeping-willows: a newly married couple had come to spend the honeymoon -in that paradise. - -One evening, as I was strolling over the swards of Twickenham, Peltier -appeared, holding his handkerchief to his mouth: - -"What an everlasting deuce of a fog!" he cried, so soon as he was -within earshot. "How the devil can you remain here? I have made out my -list: Stowe, Blenheim, Hampton Court, Oxford; with your dreamy ways, -you might live with John Bull _in vitam æternam_ and not see a thing!" - -[Sidenote: A journey with Peltier.] - -I asked in vain to be excused, I had to go. In the carriage, Peltier -enumerated his hopes to me; he had relays of them; no sooner had -one croaked beneath him than he straddled another, and on he would -go, a leg on either side, to his journey's end. One of his hopes, -the robustest, eventually led him to Bonaparte, whom he took by the -coat-collar: Napoleon had the simplicity to hit back[330]. Peltier -took Sir James Mackintosh[331] as his second; he was condemned by the -courts, and made a new fortune (which he incontinently ran through) by -selling the documents relating to his trial. - -Blenheim[332] was distasteful to me; I suffered so much the more from -an ancient reverse of my country in that I had had to endure the -insult of a recent affront: a boat going up the Thames caught sight -of me on the bank; seeing a Frenchman, the oarsmen gave cheers; the -news had just been received of the naval battle of Aboukir: these -successes of the foreigner, which might open the gates of France to me, -were hateful to me. Nelson[333], whom I had often met in Hyde Park, -wrapped his victories in Lady Hamilton's[334] shawl at Naples, while -the _lazzaroni_ played at ball with human heads. The admiral died -gloriously at Trafalgar[335], and his mistress wretchedly at Calais, -after losing beauty, youth and fortune. And I, taunted on the Thames -with the victory of Aboukir, have seen the palm-trees of Libya edging -the calm and deserted sea which was reddened with the blood of my -fellow-countrymen. - -Stowe Park[336] is famous for its ornamental buildings: I prefer its -shades. The cicerone of the place showed us, in a gloomy ravine, the -copy of a temple of which I was to admire the original in the dazzling -valley of the Cephisus. Beautiful pictures of the Italian school pined -in the darkness of some uninhabited rooms, whose shutters were kept -closed: poor Raphael, imprisoned in a castle of the ancient Britons, -far from the skies of the Farnesina[337]! - -At Hampton Court was preserved the collection of portraits of the -mistresses of Charles II.: you see how that Prince took things on -emerging from a revolution which cut off his father's head, and which -was to drive out his House. - -At Slough we saw Herschel[338], with his learned sister[339] and his -great forty-foot telescope; he was looking for new planets: this made -Peltier laugh, who kept to the seven old ones. - -We stopped for two days at Oxford. I took pleasure in this republic of -Alfred the Great[340]; it represented the privileged liberties and the -manners of the literary institutions of the Middle Ages. We hurried -through the twenty colleges, the libraries, the pictures, the museum, -the botanic garden. I turned over with extreme pleasure, among the -manuscripts of Worcester College, a life of the Black Prince, written -in French verse by the Prince's herald-at-arms. - -Oxford, without resembling them, recalled to my memory the modest -Colleges of Dol, Rennes and Dinan. I had translated Gray's[341] _Elegy -written in a Country Church-yard_: - - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day[342], - -which is imitated from Dante's - - Squilla di lontano - Che paja'l giorno pianger che si musre[343]. - - -[Sidenote: Oxford.] - -Peltier had hastened to trumpet my translation in his paper. At sight -of Oxford I remembered the same poet's _Ode on a distant Prospect of -Eton College_: - - Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade! - Ah, fields beloved in vain! - Where once my careless childhood strayed, - A stranger yet to pain! - - I feel the gales that from ye blow, - . . . . . . - My weary soul they seem to soothe, - And redolent of joy and youth, - To breathe a second spring. - - Say, Father Thames,... - . . . . . . - What idle progeny succeed - To chase the rolling circle's speed - Or urge the flying ball? - - Alas! regardless of their doom - The little victims play! - No sense have they of ills to come, - Nor care beyond to-day[344]. - -Who has not experienced the feelings and regrets here expressed with -all the sweetness of the muse? Who has not softened at the recollection -of the games, the studies, the loves of his early years? But can they -be revived? The pleasures of youth reproduced by the memory are ruins -seen by torchlight. - -* - -Separated from the Continent by a long war, the English at the end -of the last century preserved their national manners and character. -There was still but one people, in whose name the sovereign power was -wielded by an aristocratic government; only two great friendly classes -existed, bound by a common interest: the patrons and the dependents. -That jealous class called the bourgeoisie in France, which is beginning -to arise in England, was then not known: nothing came between the rich -land-owners and the men occupied with their trades. Everything had not -yet become machinery in the manufacturing professions, folly in the -privileged classes. Along the same pavements where one now sees dirty -faces and men in surtouts, passed little girls in white cloaks, with -straw-hats fastened under the chin with a ribbon, a basket on their -arm, containing fruit or a book; all kept their eyes lowered, all -blushed when one looked at them: - -"Britain," says Shakespeare, is "in a great pool, a swan's nest[345]." - -Surtouts without coats beneath were so little worn in London in 1793 -that a woman who was weeping bitterly over the death of Louis XVI. said -to me: - -"But, my dear sir, is it true that the poor King was dressed in a -surtout when they cut off his head?" - -The "gentlemen farmers" had not yet sold their patrimony in order to -come and live in London; in the House of Commons they still formed the -independent fraction which, acting in opposition to the Ministry, kept -up ideas of liberty, order and property. They hunted the fox or shot -pheasants in autumn, ate fat geese at Christmas, shouted "Hurrah" for -roast beef, grumbled at the present, praised the past, cursed Pitt and -the war, which sent up the price of port, and went to bed drunk to -begin the same life over again next day. They were firmly convinced -that the glory of Great Britain would never fade so long as they sang -_God save the King_, maintained the rotten boroughs, kept the game laws -in vigour, and sent hares and partridges to market by stealth under the -name of "lions" and "ostriches." - -The Anglican clergy was learned, hospitable, and generous; it had -received the French clergy with true Christian charity. The University -of Oxford printed at its own cost and distributed gratis among the -curés a New Testament, according to the Latin Vulgate, with the -imprint, "_In usum cleri Gallicani in Anglia exulantis._" As to the -life of the English upper classes, I, a poor exile, saw nothing of -it but the outside. On the occasion of receptions at Court or at the -Princess of Wales's[346], ladies went by seated sideways in Sedan -chairs; their great hoop-petticoats protruded through the door of the -chair like altar-hangings. They themselves, on those altars of their -waists, resembled madonnas or pagodas. Those fine ladies were the -daughters whose mothers the Duc de Guiche and the Duc de Lauzun had -adored; those daughters are, in 1822, the mothers and grandmothers of -the little girls who now come to my house to dance in short frocks to -the sound of Collinet's clarinet, swift generations of flowers. - -[Illustration: William Pitt.] - -[Sidenote: English statesmen.] - -The England of 1688 was, at the end of the last century, at the apogee -of its glory. As a poor emigrant in London, from 1793 to 1800, I heard -Pitt, Fox[347], Sheridan[348], Wilberforce[349], Grenville[350], -Whitbread[351], Lauderdale[352], Erskine[353]; as a magnificent -ambassador in London to-day, in 1822, I could not say how far I am -impressed when, instead of the great orators whom I used to admire, I -see those get up who were their seconds at the time of my first visit, -the pupils in the place of the masters. General ideas have penetrated -into that particular society. But the enlightened aristocracy placed at -the head of this country since one hundred and forty years will have -shown to the world one of the finest and greatest societies that have -done honour to mankind since the Roman patricians. Perhaps some old -family, seated in the depths of its county, will recognise the society -which I have depicted and regret the time whose loss I here deplore. - -In 1792[354] Mr. Burke parted from Mr. Fox. The question at issue was -the French Revolution, which Mr. Burke attacked and Mr. Fox defended. -Never had the two orators, who till then had been friends, displayed -such eloquence. The whole House was moved, and Mr. Fox's eyes were -filled with tears when Mr. Burke concluded his speech with these words: - - "The right honourable gentleman in the speech he has just - made has treated me in every sentence with uncommon harshness - ... by declaring a censure upon my whole life, conduct, and - opinions. Notwithstanding this great and serious, though - on my part unmerited, attack.... I shall not be dismayed; - I am not yet afraid to state my sentiments in this House - or anywhere else.... I will tell all the world that the - Constitution is in danger.... It certainly is indiscretion - at any period, but especially at my time of life, to provoke - enemies, or to give my friends occasion to desert me; yet - if my firm and steady adherence to the British Constitution - places me in such a dilemma, I will risk all; and as public - duty and public prudence teach me, with my last words - exclaim, 'Fly from the French Constitution!'" - -Mr. Fox having said that there was "no loss of friends," Mr. Burke -exclaimed: - - "Yes, there is a loss of friends! I know the price of my - conduct; I have done my duty at the price of my friend; our - friendship is at an end.... I warn the two right honourable - gentlemen who are the great rivals in this House, that - whether they hereafter move in the political atmosphere as - two flaming meteors, or walk together like brethren hand in - hand, to preserve and cherish the British Constitution, to - guard against innovation, and to save it from the danger of - these new theories[355]." - -A memorable time in the world's history! - -[Illustration: Edmund Burke.] - -Mr. Burke, whom I knew towards the close of his life, crushed by the -death of his only son, had founded a school for the benefit of the -children of the poor Emigrants. I went to see what he called his -"nursery." He was amused at the vivacity of the foreign race which was -growing up under his paternal genius. Looking at the careless little -exiles hopping, he said to me: - -"Our boys could not do that." - -And his eyes filled with tears. He thought of his son who had set out -for a longer exile. - -[Sidenote: William Pitt.] - -Pitt, Fox, and Burke are no more, and the British Constitution has -undergone the influence of the "new theories." One must have witnessed -the gravity of the parliamentary debates of that time, one must have -heard those orators whose prophetic voices seemed to announce a coming -revolution, to form an idea of the scene which I am recalling. Liberty, -confined within the limits of order, seemed to struggle, at Westminster -under the influence of anarchical liberty, which spoke from the still -blood-stained rostrum of the Convention. - -Mr. Pitt was tall and thin, and wore a sad and mocking look. -His utterance was cold, his intonation monotonous, his gestures -imperceptible; nevertheless, the lucidity and fluency of his thought, -the logic of his arguments, suddenly lighted with flashes of eloquence, -raised his talent to something out of the common. I used often to see -Mr. Pitt, when he went from his house on foot across St. James's Park, -to wait upon the King. George III.[356], on his side, arrived from -Windsor after drinking beer out of a pewter pot with the neighbouring -farmers; he drove through the ugly court-yards of his ugly palace in -a dowdy carriage followed by a few Horse-guards. That was the master -of the Kings of Europe, as five or six City merchants are the masters -of India. Mr. Pitt, in a black coat, a steel-hilted sword at his side, -his hat under his arm, climbed the stairs, taking two or three steps at -a time. On his way he found only three or four unemployed Emigrants: -casting a scornful look in their direction, he went on, with his nose -in the air, and his pale face. - -The great financier maintained no order in his own affairs, had no -regular hours for his meals or his sleep. Over head and ears in debt, -he paid nobody, and could not bring himself to add up a bill. A footman -kept house for him. Badly dressed, with no pleasures, no passions, -greedy only for power, he scorned honours, and refused to be more than -plain William Pitt. - -Lord Liverpool, in the month of June last, 1822, took me to dine at -his country-place: when we were crossing Putney Heath, he showed me -the little house in which died, a poor man, the son of Lord Chatham, -the statesman who had taken Europe into his pay and with his own hand -distributed all the millions in the world[357]. - -George III. survived Mr. Pitt, but he had lost his reason and his -sight. Every session, at the opening of Parliament, the ministers read -to the silent and moved Houses the bulletin of the King's health. One -day I had gone to visit Windsor: a few shillings persuaded an obliging -door-keeper to hide me so that I might see the King. The monarch, -white-haired and blind, appeared, wandering like King Lear through his -palace and groping with his hands along the walls of the apartments. -He sat down to a piano, of which he knew the position, and played some -portions of a sonata by Handel[358]: a fine ending for Old England! - - -I began to turn my eyes towards my native land. A great revolution had -been operated. Bonaparte had become First Consul and was restoring -order by means of despotism; many exiles were returning; the upper -Emigration, especially, hastened to go and collect the remnants of its -fortune: loyalty was dying at the head, while its heart still beat in -the breasts of a few half-naked country-gentlemen. Mrs. Lindsay had -left; she wrote to Messrs, de Lamoignon to return; she also invited -Madame d'Aguesseau[359], sister of Messrs, de Lamoignon, to cross the -Channel. Fontaines wrote to me to finish the printing of the _Génie -du Christianisme_ in Paris. While remembering my country, I felt no -desire to see it again; gods more powerful than the paternal lares -kept me back; I had neither goods nor refuge in France; my motherland -had become to me a bosom of stone, a breast without milk: I should not -find my mother there, nor my brother, nor my sister Julie. Lucile still -lived, but she had married M. de Caud and no longer bore my name; my -young "widow" knew me only through a union of a few months, through -misfortune and through an absence of eight years. - -[Illustration: George III.] - -Had I been left to myself, I do not know that I should have had -the strength to leave; but I saw my little circle dissolving; Madame -d'Aguesseau proposed to take me to Paris: I let myself go. The -Prussian Minister procured me a passport in the name of La Sagne, an -inhabitant of Neuchâtel. Messrs. Dulau stopped the printing of the -_Génie du Christianisme_, and gave me the sheets that had been set up. -I separated the sketches of _Atala_ and _René_ from the _Natchez_; the -remainder of the manuscript I locked into a trunk, of which I entrusted -the deposit to my hosts in London, and I set out for Dover with Madame -d'Aguesseau: Mrs. Lindsay was awaiting us at Calais. - -[Sidenote: I return to France.] - -It was thus that I quitted England in 1800; my heart was differently -occupied from the manner in which it is at the time of writing, in -1822. I brought back from the land of exile only dreams and regrets; -to-day my head is filled with scenes of ambition, of politics, of -grandeurs and Courts, so ill suited to my nature. How many events are -heaped up in my present existence! Pass, men, pass; my turn will come. -I have unrolled only one-third of my days before your eyes; if the -sufferings which I have borne have weighed upon my vernal serenity, -now, entering upon a more fruitful age, the germ of _René_ is about -to develop, and bitterness of another kind will be blended with my -narrative! What shall I not have to tell in speaking of my country; -of her revolutions, of which I have already shown the fore-ground; -of the Empire and of the gigantic man whom I have seen fall; of the -Restoration in which I played so great a part, that Restoration -glorious to-day, in 1822, although nevertheless I am able to see it -only through I know not what ill-omened mist? - -I end this book, which touches the spring of 1800. Arriving at the -close of my first career, I see opening before me the writer's career; -from a private individual I am about to become a public man; I leave -the virginal and silent retreat of solitude to enter the dusty and -noisy cross-roads of the world; broad day is about to light up my -dreamy life, light to penetrate my kingdom of shadows. I cast a melting -glance upon those books which contain my unremembered hours; I seem to -be bidding a last farewell to the paternal house; I take leave of the -thoughts and illusions of my youth as of sisters, of loving women, whom -I leave by the family hearth and whom I shall see no more. - -We took four hours to cross from Dover to Calais. I stole into my -country under the shelter of a foreign name: doubly hidden beneath the -obscurity of the Swiss La Sagne and my own, I entered France with the -century[360]. - - - -[247] This book was written in London between April and September 1822, -and revised in February 1845.--T. - -[248] Cat. LXV. 9-11.--T. - -[249] M. A. Dulau was a Frenchman, and had been a Benedictine at Sorèze -College. He emigrated and opened a shop in Wardour Street, London.--B. - -[250] OV., _Fasti_, VI. 772.--T. - -[251] Charlotte Suzanne Marie de Bedée (1762-1849), whom Chateaubriand -called Caroline, survived him, and died at Dinan on the 28th of April -1849.--B. - -[252] Marie Anne Cuppi (1710-1770), known as the Camargo, and a famous -dancer, was born in Brussels of a reputed noble Spanish family. She -made her first appearance at the Opera in Pans in 1734, and continued -to dance there until 1751, when she retired from her profession. -Voltaire addressed a piece of verse to her.--T. - -[253] David Hume (1711-1776). His History of England, published from -1754 to 1761, goes down to 1688, whence it is continued by Smollett.--T. - -[254] Tobias George Smollett (1721-1771). That portion of his complete -_History of England_ which embraces the period from the Revolution to -the death of George II. is generally treated as carrying on Hume's -History, and is printed as a continuation of that work.--T. - -[255] Edward Gibbon (1737-1794), author of the _Decline and Fall of the -Roman Empire._--T. - -[256] William Robertson (1721-1793), a "moderate" historian, author -of a History of Scotland, a History of Charles V., and a History of -America.--T. - -[257] John Dryden (1631-1700), Poet-Laureate.--T. - -[258] Alexander Pope (1688-1744). His house at Twickenham stood on -the site of the modern Pope's Villa, now the property of Mr. Henry -Labouchere, M.P. The willow became rotten and was cut down.--T. - -[259] The Rev. Hugh Blair ( 1718-1800), Professor of Rhetoric at -Edinburgh University, and author of the _Lectures on Rhetoric_ and a -collection of famous Sermons.--T. - -[260] Dr. Samuel Johnson ( 1709-1783), author of the Dictionary and the -_Lives of the English Poets._--T. - -[261] Addison and Steele's _Spectator_ ran for nearly two years, from -January 1711 to December 1712.--T. - -[262] Edmund Burke (1729-1797), the great statesman. His _Reflections -on the Revolution in France_ appeared in 1790.--T. - -[263] François Duc de Montmorency (_circa_ 1530-1579) was Ambassador to -England in 1572, when Shakespeare was still a child.--T. - -[264] Charles de Gontaut, Duc de Biron (_circa_ 1562-1602), was -Ambassador from Henry IV. to Elizabeth at the close of the sixteenth -century. He was beheaded, 31 July 1602, at the Bastille, for conspiring -against the King.--T. - -[265] Maximilien de Béthune, Duc de Sully (1560-1641), Henry IV.'s -great minister.--T. - -[266] Elizabeth, Queen of England (1533-1603), reigned from 1558 to -1603, and the plays produced by Shakespeare during her reign include -_Love's Labours Lost_, the _Comedy of Errors_, _King Henry VI._, the -_Two Gentlemen of Verona_, the _Midsummer Alight's Dream_, the _Life -and Death of King Richard III._, _Romeo and Juliet_, the _Life and -Death of King Richard II._, _King John_, the _Merchant of Venice_, -_King Henry IV._, _King Henry V._, the _Taming of the Shrew_, the -_Merry Wives of Windsor, Much Ado about Nothing, As You Like It, -Twelfth Night, or, What You Will, Julius Cæsar, All's Well that Ends -Well_, and _Hamlet Prince of Denmark._--T. - -[267] James I. King of England and VI. of Scotland (1566-1625). In -his reign were produced _Measure for Measure, Troilus and Cressida, -Othello, the Moor of Venice, King Lear, Macbeth, Antony and Cleopatra, -Coriolanus, Timon of Athens, Pericles Prince of Tyre, Cymbeline_, the -_Tempest_, the _Winters Tale_, and _King Henry VIII._--T. - -[268] Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) flourished exactly three centuries -before Shakespeare.--T. - -[269] Bulstrode Whitelock (1605-1675), a prominent member of the Long -Parliament, and author of the _Memorials of the English Affairs_, -in which mention is made of the fact that the Swedish Ambassador -complains, in 1656, of the delay caused in the translation of certain -articles into Latin through their being entrusted to a blind man.--T. - -[270] Jean Baptiste Poquelin (1622-1673), known as Molière, played the -principal part in his own comedies. _Monsieur de Pourceaugnac_, one of -the most farcical of these, was produced in 1669.--T. - -[271] JOB. XIII. 15.--T. - -[272] _An Epitaph on the admirable Dramatic Poet William Shakespeare_, -1-2.--T. - -[273] Michael Angelo Buonarotti (1474-1563) left a number of slight -poems in addition to his vast works of sculpture, painting, and -architecture.--T. - -[274] Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832) lost the use of his right leg when -eighteen months old.--T. - -[275] _Sonnets_, XXXVII. 3.--T. - -[276] _Sonnets_, LXXI, I, 5-12.--T. - -[277] Samuel Richardson (1689-1761), the voluminous author of _Pamela, -Clarissa Harlowe_, and the _History of Sir Charles Grandison. Clarissa -Harlowe_ was published in 1748.--T. - -[278] Henry Fielding (1707-1754), author of _Joseph Andrews, Tom Jones_ -(1749), etc.--T. - -[279] Laurence Sterne (1713-1768), author of _Tristram Shandy_ -(1759-1767), etc.--T. - -[280] Goldsmith's _Vicar of Wakefield_ had appeared in 1766.--T. - -[281] Godwin's _Caleb Williams_ was published in 1794.--T. - -[282] Matthew Gregory Lewis (1773-1818), familiarly known as Monk Lewis -from the _Monk_, his principal novel, published in 1795.--T. - -[283] Mrs. Ann Radcliffe (1764-1823), _née_ Ward, author of the -_Mysteries of Udolpho_ (1794)--T. - -[284] Mrs. Anna Lætitia Barbauld (1743-1825), _née_ Aiken, author of -_Evenings at Horne_, etc.--T. - -[285] Maria Edgeworth (1766-1849), author of _Moral Tales, Castle -Rackrent, Tales of Fashionable Life_, etc., etc.--T. - -[286] Madame Fanny d'Arblay (1752-1840), _née_ Burney, author of -_Evelina_ (1778), _Cecilia_, and an interesting Diary and Letters.--T. - -[287] Florio's MONTAIGNE, Booke III. chap. IX.: _Of Vanitie._--T. - -[288] Johann Wolfgang Goethe (1749-1832) published his tragedy of -_Goetz von Berlichingen_ in 1773; Sir Walter Scott's translation -appeared in 1799.--T. - -[289] William Cowper (1731-1800), author of the _Task._--T. - -[290] Robert Burns (1759-1796), the Ayrshire ploughman-poet.--T. - -[291] Thomas Moore (1779-1852), the popular Irish poet, had published -his translation of Anacreon at the time of which Chateaubriand writes. -His Irish Melodies began to appear in 1807, and _Lalla Rookh_ was -published in 1817.--T. - -[292] Thomas Campbell (1777-1844) had published his _Pleasures of Hope_ -in 1799.--T. - -[293] Samuel Rogers (1763-1855), the banker-poet, was known at this -time by the _Pleasures of Memory_, published in 1792.--T. - -[294] George Crabbe (1754-1832) had published the _Library_ and the -_Village._--T. - -[295] William Wordsworth (1770-1850), Poet-Laureate (1843). The Lyrical -Ballads, composed with Coleridge, whom Chateaubriand omits to mention, -were published in 1798.--T. - -[296] Robert Southey (1774-1843), Poet-Laureate (1813). _Wat Tyler_ -and _Joan of Arc_ both appeared before the close of the eighteenth -century.--T. - -[297] James Henry Leigh Hunt (1784-1859) had not begun to write at this -time.--T. - -[298] James Sheridan Knowles (1784-1862), author of the _Hunchback_ and -other once much admired plays.--T. - -[299] Henry Richard Vassall Fox, third Lord Holland (1773-1840), Lord -Privy Seal in the ministry of his nephew Charles James Fox (1806), and -author of some translations from the Spanish poets.--T. - -[300] Canning was the author of a number of satirical poems, many of -which appeared in the _Anti-Jacobin._--T. - -[301] John Wilson Croker (1780-1857), Secretary to the Admiralty from -1809 to 1829, and one of the founders of the _Quarterly Review_ (1809) -and of the Athenæum Club (1824). He published occasional poems on -British victories, such as Trafalgar and Talavera.--T. - -[302] William Mason (1724-1797), a minor poet, author of the _English -Garden_ and of two tragedies, _Elfrida_ and _Caractacus._--T. - -[303] Dr. Erasmus Darwin (1731-1802), grandfather of Charles Darwin, -and author of the _Botanic Garden_ and the _Zoonomia, or the Laws of -Organic Life._--T. - -[304] James Beattie (1735-1803). The _Minstrel_ appeared in 1774 to -1777.--T. - -[305] _Hours of Idleness_, "When I roved a young Highlander," 1-4.--T. - -[306] _Hours of Idleness_, "Lines written beneath the Elm in the -Churchyard of Harrow," 1-4, 17-18, 24-25, 30, 33-34--T. - -[307] Arthur Young (1741-1820), a famous writer on agriculture, and -Secretary to the Board of Agriculture on its establishment in 1793.--T. - -[308] Arthur Young, _Travels in France during the Years_ 1787, 1788, -1789. The author passed by Combourg Castle on the 1st of September -1788.--T. - -[309] _Martyrs_, book IV.--T. - -[310] _Ad Familiares_, IV. 5: "In my return out of Asia, as I was -sailing from Ægina towards Megara, I amused myself with contemplating -the circumjacent countries. Behind me lay Ægina, before me Megara; on -my right I saw Piræus, and on my left Corinth. These cities, once so -flourishing and magnificent, now presented nothing to my view but a sad -spectacle of desolation" (MELMOTH's translation).--T. - -[311] Pierre Jean de Béranger (1780-1857), the national French -song-writer. The extract quoted occurs in the notes to Béranger's song, -_À M. de Chateaubriand_ (September 1831), which is quoted in a later -volume.--T. - -[312] Abel François Villemain (1790-1870), perpetual secretary of the -French Academy from 1835, and author of the notice of Lord Byron in the -_Biographie universelle_, from which the above sentences are quoted.--T. - -[313] Byron spent his childhood at Aberdeen.--T. - -[314] MACPHERSON's _Ossian_ was published in 1760.--T. - -[315] GOETHE's _Sorrows of Werther_ appeared in 1774.--T. - -[316] Rousseau's posthumous work, published in 1782.--T. - -[317] By Bernardin de Saint-Pierre (1784).--T. - -[318] Chateaubriand cannot have read the _Age of Bronze_: it is true -that this poem was written in 1823, at Genoa, a year later than the -earlier portion of these remarks. In Stanza XVI. of the _Age of Bronze, -or Carmen Seculare et Annus haud Mirabilis_, treating of the Congress -of Verona (1822), occur the following lines: - - There Metternich, power's foremost parasite, - Cajoles; there Wellington forgets to fight; - There Chateaubriand forms new books of martyrs; - And subtle Greeks intrigue for stupid Tartars. - -And Byron appends the following note: - -"Monsieur de Chateaubriand, who has not forgotten the author in the -minister, receives a handsome compliment at Verona from a literary -sovereign: 'Ah! Monsieur C., are you related to that Chateaubriand -who-who-who has written _something?_' (_écrit quelque chose!_). It -is said that the author of _Atala_ repented him for a moment of his -legitimacy."--T. - -[319] _De la Littérature considérée dans ses rapports avec l'état moral -et politique des nations_, by Madame de Staël. As this book appeared in -1800, before _Atala_ and the _Génie du Christianisme_, Madame de Staël -may well be excused for not mentioning Chateaubriand's name in it.--B. - -[320] Teresa Contessa Guiccioli (1799-1873), _née_ Gamba, who became -famous by her _liaison_ with Lord Byron. In 1831, widowed of both her -husband and Lord Byron, she married the Marquis de Boissy, who had been -an attache to Chateaubriand's embassy in Rome. The Countess Guiccioli -published her Recollections of Lord Byron in 1863.--B. - -[321] Anne Isabella Lady Byron (1792-1860), _née_ Milbanke, daughter -of Sir Ralph Milbanke-Noel, and heiress of her mother, Judith Noel, -Viscountess Wentworth. She married Lord Byron on the 2nd of January -1815, and left him in January 1816, soon after the birth of their -daughter Augusta Ada.--T. - -[322] Alan IV. Duke of Brittany (_d._ 1112), known as Alan Rufus, -son-in-law and nephew of William the Conqueror, was created Earl of -Richmond and founded the borough of Richmond or Rich Mount.--T. - -[323] See _Domesday Book.--Author's Note._ - -[324] Charles II. King of England (1630-1685) created the Duchy of -Richmond in favour of... - -[325] Charles Lennox, first Duke of Richmond (peerage of England) and -Lennox (peerage of Scotland) in 1675. He was the illegitimate son -of the King and of Louise de Kérouaille, Duchess of Portsmouth and -Duchesse d'Aubigny. This last title of Aubigny was re-confirmed to the -fifth duke by King Louis XVIII. in 1816.--T. - -[326] Alice Perrers (d. 1400), married later to William de Windsor, -became Edward III.'s mistress in 1366. She stole the rings from off his -fingers when he was dying.--T. - -[327] LA HARPE, _Le Triomphe de la Religion, ou le Roi martyr_: - - "The viler the oppressor, the more infamous the slave."--T. - - -[328] Queen Anne Boleyn (1507-1536), second wife of Henry VIII., -executed on Tower Hill for adultery.--T. - -[329] William Douglas, fourth Duke of Queensberry, K.T. (1724-1810), -known as "Old Q.," the notorious veteran debauchee.--T. - -[330] Peltier attacked Bonaparte in the _Ambigu_, which he published -in London at the end of 1802. The First Consul, then at peace with -England, asked for his expulsion, or at least his indictment before a -British jury. Peltier was brought before the Court of King's Bench, was -brilliantly defended by Sir James Mackintosh, and was sentenced to pay -a trifling fine (21 February 1803).--B. - -[331] Sir James Mackintosh (1765-1832) abandoned medicine for the -law. He received an Indian judgeship in 1804, and in 1811 returned -to England, entering Parliament in 1812. He was the author of some -masterly writings, including the famous _Dissertation on Ethics in the -Encyclopædia Britannica._--T. - -[332] Blenheim was founded in 1704 and bestowed by Parliament on John -Churchill, first Duke of Marlborough, in recognition of his military -and diplomatic services. It was named after the signal victory at -Blenheim over the French and Bavarian troops (2 August 1704).--T. - -[333] Admiral Horatio Viscount Nelson (1758-1805) destroyed the French -fleet in the battle known indifferently as the Battle of Aboukir or the -Nile (1 August 1798). For this he was created Baron Nelson by the King -of England and Duke of Bronte by the King of Naples.--T. - -[334] Emma Lady Hamilton (1763-1815), _née_ Lyon or Hart, the beautiful -mistress of Charles Greville and of his uncle, Sir William Hamilton, -foster-brother to George IV., and Minister at Naples from 1764 to 1800. -Sir William Hamilton married Emma Hart in 1791. Her intimacy with -Nelson began in 1793, and their daughter Horatia was born in 1801.--T. - -[335] 21 October 1805.--T. - -[336] At that time the residence of the Duke of Buckingham and -Chandos.--T. - -[337] The Farnesina Palace, in Rome, where Raphael Sanzio (1483-1520) -died.--T. - -[338] Sir William Herschel (1738-1822), the famous astronomer, had -discovered the planet Uranus in 1781.--T. - -[339] Caroline Herschel (1750-1848), Sir William's sister, assisted him -in recording his observations.--T. - -[340] King Alfred (849-901), known as the Great, is said to have -founded the University of Oxford in 872.--T. - -[341] Thomas Gray (1716-1771).--T. - -[342] _Elegy_, I.--T. - -[343] _Purgatorio_, VIII. 5.--B. - -[344] _Ode_, 11-15, 18-21, 28-30, 51-55.--T. - -[345] _Cymbeline_, III. 4.--T. - -[346] Queen Caroline of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel (1768-1821) married the -Prince of Wales, afterwards King George IV., in 1795. The Prince and -Princess of Wales separated by mutual consent in 1796, after the birth -of Princess Charlotte.--T. - -[347] Charles James Fox (1749-1806) entered Parliament for Midhurst in -1768; held office under North, but left him and joined Burke in his -opposition to the American War; was Foreign Secretary in the Rockingham -Ministry; joined North's short-lived Coalition Ministry of 1783; and -during the next fourteen years distinguished himself as the great and -eloquent opponent of Pitt's Government. On Pitt's death, in 1806, he -again came into office as Foreign Secretary, but himself died shortly -after.--T. - -[348] Richard Brinsley Butler Sheridan (1751-1816) had produced all his -plays and was owner of Drury Lane Theatre when he entered Parliament -in 1780 under Fox's patronage. In 1782 he became Under Secretary for -Foreign Affairs in Rockingham's Ministry. His two most famous speeches -were those impeaching Warren Hastings in 1787 and supporting the French -Revolution in 1794.--T. - -[349] William Wilberforce (1759-1833), the antagonist of the -slave-trade, entered Parliament as Member for Hull in 1780. He first -introduced his Abolition Bill in 1789; it was passed by the House of -Commons in 1801 and by the House of Lords in 1807.--T. - -[350] William Wyndham, first Lord Grenville (1759-1834), entered -Parliament in 1782. In 1789 he was Speaker of the House of Commons. In -1790 Pitt made him Home Secretary and a peer; in 1791 he was Foreign -Secretary, and Premier from 1806 to 1807.--T. - -[351] Samuel Whitbread (1758-1815) entered Parliament in 1790 as Member -for Bedford, and attached himself to Fox, to the maintenance of peace, -and to the cause of the Princess of Wales. He cut his throat on the 6th -of July 1815.--T. - -[352] James Maitland, eighth Earl of Lauderdale, K.T. (1759-1839), -entered the House of Commons in 1780 for Newport, and supported -Fox. In 1789 he succeeded to the Scottish peerage and was elected -a representative peer in 1790, and in 1806 created a peer of Great -Britain and Ireland. He veered from Whig to Tory over the Queen -Caroline question, and received the Thistle in reward.--T. - -[353] Thomas first Lord Erskine (1750-1823) was Attorney-General to the -Prince of Wales (1783), Chancellor of the Duchy of Cornwall (1802), and -in 1806 became Lord Chancellor and a peer.--T. - -[354] This should be 1791. _Vide note infra._--T. - -[355] 21 April 1791, in the course of an excursion on the French -Revolution during the debate on the Quebec Government Bill.--T. - -[356] George III., King of England (1738-1820). His frequent fits of -insanity began in 1810.--T. - -[357] Pitt died at his house at Putney on the 23rd of January 1806.--T. - -[358] George Frederick Handel (1684-1759), a German musician who -attained and still maintains great vogue in England.--T. - -[359] Marie Catherine Marouise d'Aguesseau (1759-1849), _née_ de -Lamoignon, married to the Marquis d'Aguesseau, who became a senator of -the Empire (1805) and a peer of the Restoration (1814).--B. - -[360] 8 May 1800.--B. - - - - -PART THE SECOND - - -1800-1814 - - - - -BOOK I[361] - - -My stay at Dieppe--Two phases of society--The position of my -Memoirs--The year 1800--Aspect of France--I arrive in Paris--Changes in -society--The year 1801--The _Mercure_--_Atala_--Madame de Beaumont and -her circle--Summer at Savigny--The year 1802--Talma--The year 1803--The -_Génie du Christianisme_--Failure prophesied--Cause of its final -success--Defects in the work. - - -You know that I have often moved from spot to spot while writing -these Memoirs; that I have often described those spots, spoken of the -feelings with which they inspired me, and recalled my memories, thus -mingling the history of my thoughts and of my wandering habitations -with the history of my life. - -You see where I am living now. Walking this morning on the cliffs -behind Dieppe Castle, I saw the postern which communicates with -the cliffs by means of a bridge thrown over a ditch: Madame de -Longueville[362] escaped by that way from Queen Anne of Austria[363]; -embarking secretly at the Havre, she landed at Rotterdam, and joined -the Maréchal de Turenne[364] at Stenay. The great captain's laurels -were no longer innocent, and the fair but caustic outlaw treated the -culprit none too well. - -Madame de Longueville, who had recovered from the Hôtel de Rambouillet, -the Throne of Versailles, and the Municipality of Paris, became smitten -with the author of the _Maximes_[365], and was as faithful to him as -she was able. The latter lives less by his "thoughts" than by the -friendship of Madame de La Fayette[366], Madame de Sévigné, the verses -of La Fontaine, and the love of Madame de Longueville: see whither -illustrious attachments lead. - -The Princesse de Condé[367], when on the point of death, said to Madame -de Brienne[368]: - - "My dear friend, acquaint that poor wretch who is at Stenay - of the state in which you see me, and let her learn how to - die." - -Fine words; but the Princess forgot that she herself had been loved by -Henry IV., and that, when her husband carried her to Brussels, she had -wanted to rejoin the Bearnese, "to escape at night by a window, and -then to do thirty or forty leagues on horse-back;" she was at that time -a "poor wretch" of seventeen. - -Descending the cliff, I found myself on the high-road to Paris; it -ascends swiftly on leaving Dieppe. On the right, on the rising slope -of a bank, stands the wall of a cemetery; by the side of that wall was -fixed the wheel of a rope-walk. Two rope-spinners, walking backwards -in line, and swinging from leg to leg, were softly singing together. I -listened: they had come to that couplet of the _Vieux caporal_, a fine -poetic lie, which has brought us to our present state: - - Qui là-bas sanglote et regarde? - Eh! c'est la veuve du tambour, etc[369]. - -Those men uttered the refrain: - - Conscrits au pas; ne pleurez pas - . . . Marchez au pas, au pas[370], - -in a voice so manly and so pathetic that the tears came to my eyes. -Whilst themselves keeping step and twisting their hemp, they appeared -to be spinning out the old corporal's dying moments: there was -something, I cannot say what, in that glory peculiar to Béranger, thus -lonesomely revealed by two sailors singing a soldier's death within -view of the sea. - -[Sidenote: Dieppe.] - -The cliff reminded me of a monarchical greatness, the road of -a plebeian celebrity: I compared in thought the men at the two -extremities of society, and I asked myself to which of those eras -I should have preferred to belong. When the present shall have -disappeared like the past, which of those two renowns will the most -attract the notice of posterity? - -And yet, if facts were all, if, in history, the value of names did -not counterbalance the value of events, what a difference between my -time and the time which elapsed between the deaths of Henry IV. and -Mazarin[371]! What are the troubles of 1648 compared to that Revolution -which has devoured the old world, of which it, the Revolution, will die -perhaps, leaving behind it neither an old nor a new state of society? -Had not I to paint in my Memoirs pictures of incomparably higher -importance than the scenes related by the Duc de La Rochefoucauld[372]? -At Dieppe itself, what was the careless and voluptuous idol of seduced -and rebellious Paris by the side of Madame la Duchesse de Berry[373]? -The salvoes of artillery which announced to the sea the presence of the -royal widow resound no longer[374]; the flattery of powder and smoke -has left nothing upon the shore save the moaning of the waves. - -The two daughters of Bourbon, Anne Geneviève and Marie Caroline, have -departed; the two sailors singing the song of the plebeian poet will -plunge into the abyss; Dieppe no longer contains myself: it was another -"I," an "I" of my early days, now past, that formerly inhabited these -regions, and that "I" has succumbed, for our days die before ourselves. -Here you have seen me, a sub-lieutenant in the Navarre Regiment, -drilling recruits on the pebbles; you have seen me here again, exiled -under Bonaparte; you shall find me here again when the days of July -surprise me in this place. Behold me here once more; I here resume my -pen to continue my confessions. - -In order that we may understand one another, it is well to cast a -glance at the present state of my Memoirs. - -* - -What happens to every contractor working on a large scale has happened -to me: I have, in the first place, built the outer wings of my -edifice, and then, removing and restoring my scaffoldings in different -positions, I have raised the stone and the mortar for the intermediate -structures: it used to take several centuries to complete a Gothic -cathedral. If Heaven grant me life, the work will be finished by -stages of my various years; the architect, always the same, will have -changed only in age. For the rest, it is a punishment to preserve one's -intellectual being intact, imprisoned in a worn-out material covering. -St Augustine, feeling that his clay was falling from him, said to God, -"Be Thou a tabernacle unto my soul," and to men he said, "When you -shall have known me in this book, pray for me." - -Thirty-six years must be reckoned between the things which commence -my Memoirs and those upon which I am now engaged. How shall I resume -with any spirit the narration of a subject formerly replete for me -with passion and fire, when it is no longer with living beings that I -am about to converse, when it becomes a question of arousing lifeless -effigies from the depths of Eternity, of descending into a funeral -vault there to play at life? Am I not myself almost dead? Have my -opinions not changed? Do I see objects from the same point of view? -Have not the general and prodigious events which have accompanied or -followed the personal events that so greatly perturbed me diminished -their importance in the eyes of the world, as well as in my own eyes? -Whosoever prolongs his career feels his hours grow cold; he no longer -finds on the morrow the interest which he felt on the eve. When I -seek in my thoughts, there are names and even persons that escape my -memory, and yet they may have caused my heart to throb: vanity of man -forgetting and forgotten! It is not enough to say to one's dreams, to -love, "Revive!" for them to come to life again: the realm of shadows -can be opened only with the golden bough, and it needs a young hand to -pluck it. - - _Aucuns venants des Lares patries_[375]. - -[Sidenote: Aspect of France in 1800.] - -Imprisoned for eight years in Great Britain, I had seen only the -English world, so different, especially at that time, from the European -world. As the Dover packet approached Calais, in the spring of 1800, -my gaze preceded me on shore. I was struck by the needy aspect of the -country: scarce a few masts were to be seen in the harbour; inhabitants -in carmagnole jackets and cotton caps came along the jetty to meet -us: the conquerors of the Continent made themselves known to me by a -clatter of wooden shoes. When we came alongside, the gendarmes and -custom-house officers leapt on deck to inspect our luggage and our -passports: in France a man is always suspected, and the first thing we -perceive in our business, as well as in our amusements, is a cocked hat -or a bayonet. - -Mrs. Lindsay was waiting for us at the inn; the next day we set out -with her for Paris: Madame d'Aguesseau, a young kinswoman of hers, and -I. On the road one saw hardly any men; blackened and sun-burnt women, -bare-footed, their heads bare or covered with a kerchief, were tilling -the fields: one would have taken them for slaves. I ought rather to -have been struck by the independence and virility of that land where -the women wielded the mattock while the men wielded the musket. The -villages looked as though a conflagration had passed over them; they -were wretched and half demolished: mud or dust on every hand, dunghills -and rubbish-heaps. - -To the right and left of the road appeared overthrown country mansions; -of their levelled thickets there remained only some squared trunks, -upon which children played. One saw battered enclosure walls, deserted -churches, from which the dead had been expelled, steeples without -bells, cemeteries without crosses, headless saints that had been -stoned in their niches. The walls were smeared with those Republican -inscriptions that had already grown old: LIBERTY, EQUALITY, FRATERNITY, -OR DEATH. Sometimes they had attempted to efface the word DEATH, but -the red or black letters showed through the coating of lime. This -nation, which seemed on the point of extinction, was commencing a new -world, like those peoples which issued from the dusk of the savagery -and destruction of the Middle Ages. - -Approaching the capital, between Écouen and Paris, the elms had not -been cut down; I was struck by those fine roadside avenues, unknown on -English soil. France was as new to me, as in former days, the forests -of America. Saint-Denis was laid bare, its windows were broken; the -rain penetrated into its grass-grown naves, and there were no more -tombs: I have since seen there the bones of Louis XVI., the Cossacks, -the coffin of the Duc de Berry, and the catafalque of Louis XVIII. - -Auguste de Lamoignon came to meet Mrs. Lindsay. His well-appointed -carriage formed a contrast with the clumsy carts, the dirty, -broken-down diligences, drawn by hacks harnessed with ropes, which I -had met since leaving Calais. Mrs. Lindsay lived at the Ternes. I was -put down on the Chemin de la Révolte, and made my way to my hostess' -house across the fields. I stayed with her for four-and-twenty hours; I -there met a great fat Monsieur Lasalle, whom she employed in arranging -emigrant business. She sent to inform M. de Fontanes of my arrival; in -eight-and-forty hours he came to fetch me in a little room which Mrs. -Lindsay had hired for me at an inn almost at her door. - -[Sidenote: Paris once more.] - -It was a Sunday: we entered Paris on foot by the Barrière de l'Étoile -at about three o'clock in the afternoon. We have no idea to-day of -the impression which the excesses of the Revolution had made on men's -minds in Europe, and chiefly among those absent from France during the -Terror: I felt literally as though I were about to descend into Hell. -I had, it is true, witnessed the beginnings of the Revolution; but the -great crimes had then not yet been accomplished, and I had remained -under the yoke of subsequent events as these had been related in the -midst of the peaceful and orderly society of England. - -Proceeding under my false name, and convinced that I was compromising -my friend Fontanes, to my great astonishment, on entering the -Champs-Élysées, I heard the sound of violins, horns, clarionets and -drums. I saw public balls, at which men and women were dancing; farther -on, the Tuileries Palace appeared to my eyes, against the background -of its two great clumps of chestnut-trees. As for the Place Louis -XV.[376], it was bare: it had the decay, the melancholy and deserted -look of an old amphitheatre; one crossed it quickly; I was quite -surprised to hear no moans; I was afraid of stepping in the blood of -which not a trace remained; my eyes could not tear themselves from -the place in the sky where the instrument of death had raised its -head; I thought I saw my brother and my sister-in-law in their shirts, -standing, bound, beside the blood-stained machine: it was there that -the head of Louis XVI. had fallen. In spite of the gaiety in the -streets the church-steeples were dumb; it seemed to me as though I had -returned on the day of infinite sorrow, on Good Friday. - -M. de Fontanes lived in the Rue Saint-Honoré, near Saint-Roch. He took -me home with him, introduced me to his wife, and then took me to his -friend, M. Joubert, where I found a temporary shelter: I was received -like a traveller of whom one has heard speak. - -The next day I went to the police, under the name of La Sagne, to -lodge my foreign passport and to receive in exchange a permit to -remain in Paris, which was renewed from month to month. In a few days -I hired an _entre-sol_ in the Rue de Lille, on the side of the Rue des -Saints-Pères. - -I had brought with me the _Génie du Christianisme_ and the first sheets -of the work, printed in London. I was directed to M. Migneret[377], a -worthy man, who consented to recommence the interrupted printing, and -to advance me something to live on. Not a soul knew of my _Essai sur -les révolutions_, notwithstanding what M. Lemierre had written to me. I -unearthed the old philosopher, Delisle de Sales, who had just published -his _Mémoire en faveur de Dieu_, and went to call on Ginguené. He -lodged in the Rue de Grenelle-Saint-Germain, near the Hôtel du Bon La -Fontaine. His porter's box still bore this inscription: - - "Here we honour each other with the title of citizen and say - thee and thou. Shut the door behind thee, if you please." - -I went up: M. Ginguené, who hardly recognised me, spoke to me from -the height of the grandeur of all that he was and had been. I humbly -retired, and did not endeavour to renew such disproportionate relations. - -I continued at the bottom of my heart to cherish regretful memories -of England; I had lived so long in that country that I had adopted -its habits: I could not reconcile myself to the dirt of our houses, -our staircases, our tables, to our uncleanliness, our noisiness, our -familiarity, the indiscretion of our loquacity; I was English in -manners, in taste, and to a certain degree in thought; for, if, as it -is said, Lord Byron sometimes drew inspiration for his _Childe-Harold_ -from _René_ it is also true to say that my eight years' residence -in Great Britain, preceded by a journey in America, together with -my long habit of talking, writing, and even thinking in English, -had necessarily influenced the turn and expression of my ideas. But -gradually I came to relish the good-fellowship for which we are -distinguished, that charming, swift, easy commerce of thought, that -utter absence of arrogance and prejudice, that heedlessness of fortune -and names, that natural level of all ranks, that equality of mind which -makes French society incomparable and redeems our faults: after a few -months' residence among us, one feels that he can no longer live except -in Paris. - -* - -I locked myself into my _entre-sol_ and gave myself up entirely to -work. In my intervals of rest, I went and reconnoitred in various -directions. The Circus in the middle of the Palais-Royal had been -filled up; Camille Desmoulins no longer held forth in the open air; one -no longer saw bands of prostitutes going round, virginal attendants of -the goddess Reason, and walking under the conduct of David, costumier -and corybant. At the outlet of each alley, in the galleries, one met -men crying sights: "galanty shows," "peep-shows," "physical cabinets," -"strange animals;" in spite of all the heads that had been cut off, -idlers still remained. From the cellars of the Palais-Marchand came -bursts of music, accompanied by the double diapason of the big -drums: it was perhaps there that dwelt the giants whom I sought, and -whom immense events must necessarily have produced. I went down: an -underground ball was jigging amidst seated spectators drinking beer. -A little hunchback, perched on a table, played the violin and sang a -hymn to Bonaparte, which ended with these lines: - - Par ses vertus, par ses attraits. - Il méritait d'être leur père[378]! - -He was given a sou after the _ritornello._ Such is the ground-work of -the human society which bore Alexander and was then bearing Napoleon. - -[Sidenote: Changes in Paris.] - -I visited the places where I had taken the reveries of my early years. -In my old-time convents, the club-men had been driven out after -the monks. Wandering behind the Luxembourg, my footsteps led me to -the Chartreuse: its demolition was being completed. The Place des -Victoires and the Place Vendôme mourned the missing effigies of the -Great King; the community-house of the Capuchins was sacked: the inner -cloisters served as a retreat for Robertson's[379] dissolving views. -At the Cordeliers, I inquired in vain for the Gothic nave where I had -seen Marat and Danton in their prime. On the Quai des Théatins[380], -the church of that Order[381] had been turned into a café and a -rope-dancers' theatre. At the door was a coloured poster representing -acrobats dancing on the tight-rope, with, in big letters, ADMISSION -FREE. I elbowed my way among the crowd into that perfidious cave: I had -no sooner taken my seat than waiters entered, napkin in hand, shouting -like mad-men-- - -"Give your orders, gentlemen, give your orders!" - -I did not wait to be told a second time, and I pitiably made my -escape amid the jeering cries of the assembly, because I had no money -wherewith to "give my orders." - -* - -The Revolution has become divided into three parts which have nothing -in common between them: the Republic, the Empire, and the Restoration; -those three different worlds, each as completely finished as the -others, seem separated by centuries. Each of these three worlds has had -its fixed principle: the principle of the Republic was equality, that -of the Empire force, that of the Restoration liberty. The Republican -era is the most original, and has made the deepest impression because -it has been unique in history: never had there been seen, nor ever will -be again, physical order produced by moral disorder, unity issuing from -the government of the multitude, the scaffold substituted for the law -and obeyed in the name of humanity. - -In 1801, I assisted at the second social transformation. The jumble was -a strange one: by an agreed travesty, a host of people became persons -who they were not; each carried his assumed or borrowed name hung -round his neck, as the Venetians at the carnival carry a little mask -in their hand to show that they are masked. One was reputed an Italian -or a Spaniard, another a Prussian or a Dutchman: I was a Swiss. The -mother passed for her son's aunt, the father for his daughter's uncle; -the owner of an estate was only its steward. This movement reminded -me, in an opposite sense, of the movement of 1789, when the monks and -religious issued from their cloisters and the old society was invaded -by the new: the latter, after supplanting the former, was supplanted in -its turn. - -Nevertheless, the orderly world commenced to spring up again; people -left the cafés and the streets to return to their houses; they gathered -together the remains of their family; they readjusted their inheritance -by collecting its remnants, as, after a battle, the troop is beaten -and the losses counted. Such churches as remained whole were opened: -I had the happiness to sound the trumpet at the gate of the Temple. -One distinguished the old republican generations which were retiring, -imperial generations which were coming to the front Generals of the -Requisition[382], poor, rude of speech, stern of mien, who, from all -their campaigns, had brought back nothing save wounds and ragged -coats, passed officers glittering with the gold lace of the Consular -Army. The returned Emigrant chatted quietly with the assassins of some -of his kindred. The porters, all great partisans of the late M. de -Robespierre, regretted the sights on the Place Louis XV., where they -cut off the heads of "women who," my own _concierge_ in the Rue de -Lille told me, "had necks white as chicken's flesh." - -The men of September, changing their names and their districts, sold -baked potatoes at the street-corners; but they were often obliged to -pack off, because the people, recognising them, upset their stalls -and tried to kill them. The Revolutionaries who had waxed rich began -to move into the great mansions of the Faubourg Saint-Germain that -had been sold. On the road to become barons and counts, the Jacobins -spoke only of the horrors of 1793, of the necessity for chastising the -proletarians and putting down the excesses of the populace. Bonaparte, -placing the Brutuses and Scævolas in his police, was preparing to -bedizen them with ribands, to befoul them with titles, to force them -to betray their opinions and dishonour their crimes. Amid all this, -sprang up a vigorous generation sown in blood and growing up to shed -none save that of the foreigner: from day to day, the metamorphosis was -accomplished which turned Republicans into Imperialists and the tyranny -of all into the despotism of one. - -* - -[Sidenote: My letter to Madame de Staël.] - -While occupied in curtailing, expanding, altering the sheets of the -_Génie du Christianisme_, I was driven by necessity to busy myself with -other work. M. de Fontanes was then editing the _Mercure de France_: -he suggested that I should write in that paper. These combats were not -without a certain danger: the only way to touch politics was through -literature, and half a word was enough for Bonaparte's police. A -singular circumstance, which prevented me from sleeping, lengthened my -hours and gave me more leisure. I had bought two turtle-doves; they -cooed a great deal: I enclosed them in vain at night in my little -travelling-trunk; they only cooed the more. In one of the moments of -sleeplessness which they caused me, I bethought myself of writing for -the _Mercure_ a letter to Madame de Staël[383]. This freak caused me -suddenly to emerge from the shade; a few pages in a newspaper did what -my two thick volumes on the Revolution had been unable to do. My head -showed a little above obscurity. - -This first success seemed to foretell that which was to follow. I was -engaged in correcting the proofs of _Atala_ (an episode contained, as -was _René_, in the _Génie du Christianisme_), when I perceived that -some sheets were missing. I was seized with fright: I thought they had -stolen my novel, assuredly a very ill-founded dread, for no one thought -that I was worth robbing. Be this as it may, I determined to publish -_Atala_ separately, and I declared my resolution in a letter addressed -to the _Journal des Débats_[384] and the _Publiciste._ - -Before venturing to expose the work to the light of day, I showed it to -M. de Fontanes: he had already read fragments of it in manuscript in -London. When he came to Father Aubry's speech beside Atala's deathbed, -he said brusquely, in a rough voice: - -"That's not right; it's bad: write that over again!" - -I went away disconsolate; I did not feel capable of doing better. I -wanted to throw the whole thing into the fire; I spent from eight till -eleven o'clock in the evening in my entresol, seated at my table, with -my forehead resting on the back of my hands opened and spread out over -my paper. I was angry with Fontanes; I was angry with myself; I did not -even try to write, so great was my despair of self. Towards midnight, I -heard the voice of my turtle-doves, softened by distance and rendered -more plaintive by the prison in which I kept them confined: inspiration -returned to me; I then and there wrote the speech of the missionary, -without a single interlineation, without erasing a word, just as it -remained and as it stands to-day. With a beating heart, I took it in -the morning to Fontanes, who exclaimed: - -"That's it, that's right! I told you you could do better!" - -The noise which I have made in this world dates from the publication -of _Atala._[385] I ceased to live for myself and my public career -commenced. After so many military successes, a literary success seemed -a prodigy: people were hungering for it. The uncommon nature of the -work added to the surprise of the crowd. _Atala_, falling into the -midst of the literature of the Empire, of that classic school whose -very sight, like that of a rejuvenated old woman, inspired boredom, was -a sort of production of an unknown kind. People did not know whether -to class it among the "monstrosities" or among the "beauties:" was it -a Gorgon or a Venus? The assembled academicians discoursed learnedly -upon its sex and its nature, in the same way as they made reports -upon the _Génie du Christianisme._ The old century rejected, the new -welcomed it. - -[Illustration: Napoléon.] - -[Sidenote: I publish _Atala._] - -_Atala_ became so popular that, with the Brinvilliers[386] she went -to swell Curtius' collection[387]. The wagoners' inns were decorated -with red, green and blue prints representing Chactas, Father Aubry, -and the daughter of Simaghan. My characters were displayed in wax, in -wooden boxes, on the quays, as images of the Virgin and the saints -are displayed at the fair. In a boulevard theatre, I saw my savage -woman, in a headdress of cock's feathers, talking to a savage of her -own kind of "the soul of solitude," in a way that brought the sweat to -my brow with confusion. At the Variétés, they played a piece in which -a little girl and a little boy, leaving their boarding-school, went -off by track-boat to get married in a small town; as, on landing, they -spoke with a wild look of nothing but crocodiles, storks and forests, -their parents thought that they had gone mad. I was overwhelmed with -parodies, caricatures and ridicule. The Abbé Morellet, in order to -confound me, took his maid-servant on his knees and was unable to -hold the young virgin's feet in his hands, as Chactas held Atala's -feet during the storm: if the Chactas of the Rue d'Anjou had had his -portrait painted in this attitude, I would have forgiven him his -criticism. - -All this bustle served to increase the fuss attendant upon my -appearance. I became the fashion. My head was turned: I was -unaccustomed to the delights of self-love and became intoxicated with -it I loved fame like a woman, like a first love. And yet, coward that I -was, my affright equalled my passion: I was a conscript and stood the -fire badly. My natural timidity, the doubts I have always had of my -talent, made me humble in the midst of my triumphs. I shrank from my -splendour; I wandered in lonely places, trying to extinguish the halo -with which my head was crowned. In the evenings, with my hat thrust -down over my eyes, lest the great man should be recognised, I went -to a public smoking-room to read my praises in secret, in some small, -unknown paper. Alone with my renown, I prolonged my walks as far as the -steam-pump at Chaillot[388], on the same road where I had suffered so -much on going to Court: I was no more at my ease with my new honours. -When my superiority dined for thirty sous in the Latin Quarter it -swallowed its food the wrong way, troubled as it was by the staring of -which it thought itself the object. I watched myself, I said to myself: - -"And yet it is you, extraordinary being, eating like any one else!" - -In the Champs-Élysées was a café which I liked because of some -nightingales which hung in a cage inside the coffee-room; Madame -Rousseau, who kept the place, knew me by sight, without knowing who -I was. At ten o'clock in the evening, they used to bring me a cup of -coffee, and I looked for _Atala_ in the _Petites-Affiches_, to the -sound of the voices of my half-dozen Philomelas. Alas! I soon saw poor -Madame Rousseau die; our society of the nightingales and of the fair -Indian who sang, "Sweet habit of loving, so needful to life!" lasted -but a moment. - -If success had no power to prolong in me this stupid infatuation of -vanity, or to pervert my reason, it was attended with dangers of -another kind: those dangers increased on the appearance of the _Génie -du Christianisme_ and on my resignation after the death of the Duc -d'Enghien. Then came thronging around me, together with the young -women who cry over novels, the crowd of Christian women, and those -other noble enthusiasts whose breast beats high at the sight of an -honourable action. The young girls of thirteen or fourteen were the -most dangerous; for, knowing neither what they want nor what they want -with you, they enticingly mingle your image with a multitude of fables, -ribbons and flowers. Jean Jacques Rousseau speaks of the declarations -which he received on the publication of the _Nouvelle Héloïse_[389] and -of the conquests which were offered him: I do not know if empires would -have been thus yielded to me, but I do know that I was buried beneath a -heap of scented notes; if those notes were not, to-day, notes from so -many grand-mothers, I should be puzzled how to relate, with becoming -modesty, how they fought for a line in my hand, how they picked up an -envelope addressed by me, and how, blushing and with lowered head, -they hid it beneath a flowing veil of long tresses. If I have not been -spoilt, it must be because my nature is good. - -[Sidenote: And become the fashion.] - -Whether from genuine politeness or inquisitive weakness, I sometimes -went so far as to think myself obliged to call and thank the unknown -ladies who signed the flattery they addressed to me with their names. -One day, I found a bewitching creature under her mother's wing, on a -fourth floor, where I have never set foot since. A fair Pole received -me in silk-hung rooms; half-odalisk, half-Valkyrie, she looked like -a snowdrop with its white flowers, or like one of those graceful -heather-blooms which replace the other daughters of Flora when the -season of the latter has not yet come or has passed: that female -chorus, varied in age and beauty, was the realisation of my former -sylph. The two-fold effect upon my vanity and my feelings was so much -the more to be dreaded inasmuch as, until then, excepting one serious -attachment, I had been neither sought out nor distinguished by the -crowd. At the same time I am bound to say that, even though it were -easy for me to take advantage of a passing illusion, my sincerity -revolted against the idea of a voluptuousness that would have come to -me by the chaste paths of religion: to be loved through the _Génie du -Christianisme_, loved for the _Extrème Onction_, loved for the _Fête -des Morts!_ I could never have been so shameful a Tartuffe. - -I knew a Provençal physician, Dr. Vigaroux[390]; he had arrived at an -age when every pleasure means the loss of a day, and he said "that -he had no regret for the time thus lost; without troubling himself -whether he gave the happiness which he received, he went towards the -death of which he hoped to make his last delight." Nevertheless, I was -a witness of his poor tears when he breathed his last; he could not -hide his affliction from me; it was too late: his white hairs were -not long enough to conceal and wipe away his tears. The only one to -be really unhappy on leaving the earth is the unbeliever: for the man -without faith, existence is terrible in this, that it carries a sense -of annihilation; if one had not been born, he would not experience -the horror of ceasing to be: the life of the atheist is a frightful -lightning-flash, which serves but to reveal an abyss. - -O great and merciful God, Thou hast not cast us upon earth for unworthy -troubles and a miserable happiness! Our inevitable disenchantment -admonishes us that our destinies are more sublime. Whatever may have -been our errors, if we have preserved a serious spirit and thought of -Thee in the midst of our weaknesses, we shall, whenever Thy goodness -sets us free, be carried to that region where attachments endure for -ever! - -* - -It was not long before I received the punishment of my literary -vanity, the most detestable of all, if not the most foolish: I had -thought that I should be able to relish in _petto_ the satisfaction -of being a sublime genius, not by wearing, as they do to-day, a beard -and an eccentric coat, but by remaining dressed like decent people, -distinguished only by superiority. Useless hope! My pride was to be -chastened; the correction was administered by the political persons -whom I was obliged to know: celebrity is a benefice with the cure of -souls. - -M. de Fontanes was acquainted with Madame Bacciochi[391]; he introduced -me to Bonaparte's sister, and soon after to the First Consul's brother -Lucien[392]. The latter had a country-place near Senlis le Plessis, -where I was coerced to go and dine; the château had once belonged to -the Cardinal de Bernis[393]. Lucien had in his garden the tomb of his -first wife[394], a lady half German and half Spanish, and the memory of -the poet-cardinal. The nutrient nymph of a stream dug with the spade -was a mule which drew water from a well: that was the commencement of -all the rivers which Bonaparte was to cause to flow in his Empire. -Efforts were being made to have my name struck off the lists; I was -already called, and called myself aloud, Chateaubriand, forgetting -that I ought to call myself Lassagne. Emigrants came to see me: among -others, Messrs, de Bonald[395] and de Chênedollé[396]. Christian de -Lamoignon, my companion in exile in London, took me to Madame Récamier: -the curtain fell suddenly between her and me. - -[Sidenote: The Comtesse de Beaumont.] - -The person who filled the largest place in my existence, on my -return from the Emigration, was Madame la Comtesse de Beaumont[397]. -She lived during a part of the year at the Château de Passy, near -Villeneuve-sur-Yonne, which M. Joubert inhabited during the summer. -Madame de Beaumont returned to Paris, and expressed a wish to meet me. - -So that my life might be one long chain of regrets, Providence willed -it that the first person who received me kindly at the outset of my -public career should also be the first to disappear. Madame de Beaumont -opens the funeral procession of those women who have passed away before -me. My most distant memories rest upon ashes, and they have continued -to fall from grave to grave: like the Indian pundit, I recite the -prayers for the dead until the flowers of my chaplet are faded. - -Madame de Beaumont was the daughter of Armand Marc de Saint-Hérem, -Comte de Montmorin, French Ambassador in Madrid, commandant in -Brittany, member of the Assembly of Notables in 1787, and Foreign -Minister under Louis XVI., by whom he was much liked: he perished on -the scaffold, where he was followed by a portion of his family[398]. - -Madame de Beaumont was ill rather than well-favoured, and very like -her portrait by Madame Lebrun[399]. Her face was thin and pale; her -eyes were almond-shaped and would have perhaps been too brilliant, if -an extraordinary suavity of expression had not half extinguished her -glances and caused them to shine languidly, as a ray of light becomes -mellowed by passing through crystal water. Her character had a sort of -rigidity and impatience, which arose from the strength of her feelings -and from the inward suffering which she experienced. Endowed with -loftiness of soul and great courage, she was born for the world, from -which her spirit had withdrawn through choice and unhappiness; but when -a friendly voice evoked that secluded intelligence, it came and spoke -to you in words from Heaven. Madame de Beaumont's extreme weakness -made her slow of expression, and this slowness was touching. I knew -this afflicted woman only at the moment of her flight; she was already -stricken with death, and I devoted myself to her sufferings. I had -taken a lodging in the Rue Saint-Honoré, at the Hôtel d'Étampes, near -the Rue Neuve-du-Luxembourg. In this latter street, Madame de Beaumont -occupied an apartment looking out upon the gardens of the Ministry -of Justice. I called to see her every evening, with her friends -and mine, M. Joubert, M. de Fontanes, M. de Bonald, M. Molé[400], -M. Pasquier[401], M. de Chênedollé, men who have filled a place in -literature and public life. - -[Sidenote: Joseph Joubert.] - -Full of oddities and eccentricities, M. Joubert will be an eternal -loss to those who knew him. He had an extraordinary grip upon one's -mind and heart; and, when once he had seized hold of you, his image -was there, like a fixed thought, like an obsession that refused to be -driven away. He made great pretensions to calmness, and no one was -so easily perturbed as he: he watched himself in order to stop those -emotions of the mind, which he thought injurious to his health, and -constantly his friends came and disturbed the precautions which he -had taken to keep well, for he could not prevent himself from being -affected by their sadness or joy: he was an egoist who troubled himself -only about others. In order to recover his strength, he often thought -himself obliged to close his eyes and refrain from speaking for hours -at a time. Heaven knows what noise and movement passed inwardly within -him during this repose and silence which he laid upon himself. M. -Joubert at every moment changed his diet and regimen, living one day -on milk, another on minced meat, causing himself to be jolted at full -speed over the roughest roads, or drawn at a snail's pace along the -smoothest alleys. When he read, he tore out of his books the leaves -which displeased him, thus forming a library for his own use, composed -of scooped-out works, contained in bindings too large for them. - -A profound metaphysician, his philosophy, thanks to an elaboration -peculiar to himself, became painting or poetry; a Plato with the heart -of a La Fontaine, he had formed an idea of perfection which prevented -him from finishing anything. In manuscripts found after his death, he -said: - -"I am like an Æolian harp, which gives forth a few beautiful sounds -and plays no tune." - -Madame Victorine de Chastenay[402] maintained that "he had the -appearance of a soul which had met with a body by accident, and put up -with it as best it could:" a definition both charming and true. - -We laughed at the enemies of M. de Fontanes, who tried to pass him off -for a deep and dissembling politician: he was simply an irascible poet, -frank to the pitch of anger, with a mind hedged in by contrariety, and -as little able to conceal its opinion as to accept that of others. The -literary principles of his friend Joubert were not his: the latter -found some good everywhere and in every writer; Fontanes, on the -contrary, held such and such a doctrine in abhorrence, and could not -hear the names mentioned of certain authors. He was the sworn enemy of -the principles of modern composition: to place before the reader's -eyes material action, the crime at work or the gibbet with its rope, -seemed to him so many enormities; he maintained that objects should -never be seen except amid poetic surroundings, as though under a -crystal globe. Sorrow spending itself mechanically through the eyes -seemed to him a sensation fit only for the Cirque or the Grève; he -understood the tragic sentiment only as ennobled by admiration and -changed, through the medium of art, into "a charming pity." I quoted -the Greek vases to him: in the arabesques of those vases one sees -Hector's body drawn behind the car of Achilles, while a little figure, -flying in the air, represents the shade of Patrocles, consoled by the -vengeance of the son of Thetis. - -"Well, Joubert," cried Fontanes, "what do you say to that metamorphosis -of the muse? How those Greeks respected the soul!" - -Joubert thought himself attacked, and placed Fontanes in contradiction -with himself by reproaching him with his indulgence for me. - -These discussions, highly comical as they often were, never came to an -end: one evening, at half-past eleven, when I lived on the Place Louis -XV., in the attic floor of Madame de Coislin's house, Fontanes climbed -up my eighty-four stairs again to come furiously, with many raps of his -cane, to finish an argument which he had left interrupted: it concerned -Picard[403], whom at that moment he placed far above Molière; he would -have taken good care not to have written a single word of what he said: -Fontanes talking and Fontanes pen in hand were two different men. - -It was M. de Fontanes, I like to repeat, who encouraged my first -attempts: it was he who announced the publication of the _Génie du -Christianisme_; it was his muse which, full of astonished devotion, -directed mine in the new paths along which it had precipitated itself: -he taught me to conceal the deformity of objects by the manner of -throwing light upon them; to put classic language into the mouths of my -romantic characters as far as in me lay. - -In former days there were men who were guardians of taste, like the -dragons who watched over the golden apples in the garden of the -Hesperides; they did not allow youth to enter until it was able to -touch the fruit without spoiling it. - -[Sidenote: And other literary friends.] - -My friend's writings take you by a happy road: the mind experiences -a sense of well-being, and finds itself in an harmonious situation -where everything charms and nothing wounds. M. de Fontanes incessantly -revised his productions; none was more convinced than that master of -the old days of the excellence of the maxim, "Hasten slowly." What, -then, would he say to-day when, both morally and physically, we exert -ourselves to do away with distances, and when we think we can never -go fast enough. M. de Fontanes preferred to travel at the will of a -delicious measure. You have read what I said of him when I found him -in London; the regrets which I expressed then I must repeat now: life -obliges us ever to weep in anticipation or in remembrance. - -M. de Bonald had a shrewd intelligence; his ingenuity was mistaken for -genius; he had dreamt out his political metaphysics with the Army of -Condé, in the Black Forest, in the same way as those Jena and Göttingen -professors who have since marched at the head of their pupils and let -themselves be killed for the liberty of Germany. An innovator, although -he had been a musketeer under Louis XVI., he looked upon the ancients -as children in politics and literature; and he maintained, while he was -the first to employ the fatuousness of the language now in use, that -the Grand-master of the University was "not yet sufficiently advanced -to understand that." - -Chênedollé, with knowledge and talent, not native but acquired, was so -sad that he nicknamed himself the "Crow[404]:" he went freebooting in -my works. We had made a compact: I yielded him my skies, my mists, -my clouds; but it was arranged that he should leave me my zephyrs, my -waves, and my forests. - -I am now speaking only of my literary friends; as to my political -friends, I do not know whether I shall tell you about them: principles -and speeches have sunk abysses between us! - -Madame Hocquart[405] and Madame de Vintimille[406] came to the meetings -in the Rue Neuve-du-Luxembourg. Madame de Vintimille, one of the women -of olden time, of whom few remain, went into the world and brought us -news of what was going on: I asked her if people were "still building -cities." The descriptions of little scandals upon which she entered -with a poignant but inoffensive raillery made us the more heartily -appreciate our own security. Madame de Vintimille had been sung, -together with her sister, by M. de La Harpe. Her language was guarded, -her character restrained, her wit acquired; she had lived with Mesdames -de Chevreuse[407], de Longueville, de La Vallière, de Maintenon[408], -with Madame Geoffrin[409] and Madame du Defiant[410]. She blended well -with a company whose charm depended upon the variety of its wits and -the combination of their different values. Madame Hocquart had been -fondly loved by Madame de Beaumont's brother[411], who had occupied -himself with the lady of his thoughts to the very scaffold, as Aubiac -had gone to the gallows kissing a sleeve of soft blue velvet which -remained to him from the favours of Margaret of Valois[412]. - -[Sidenote: Who are no more.] - -Never again will there assemble under the same roof so many -distinguished persons belonging to different ranks and of different -destinies, able to talk of the commonest as of the loftiest things: a -simplicity of speech which came not from poverty but from choice. It -is perhaps the last company in which the French genius of olden time -has appeared. Among the new French will not be found that urbanity -which is the fruit of education, and which was transformed by long -usage into aptness of character. What has become of that company? Make -plans, bring friends together: you but prepare for yourself an eternal -mourning! Madame de Beaumont is no more, Joubert is no more, Chênedollé -is no more, Madame de Vintimille is no more. I used to visit M. Joubert -at Villeneuve during the vintage; I walked with him on the Yonne Hills; -he picked mushrooms in the copses, and I yellow saffron in the fields. -We talked of everything, and particularly of our friend Madame de -Beaumont, for ever absent; we recalled the memory of our former hopes. -At night we returned to Villeneuve, a town surrounded by broken-down -walls, of the time of Philip Augustus[413], and by half-razed towers, -from above which rose the smoke from the vintagers' hearths. Joubert -showed me, in the distance from the hill, a sandy path among the woods -which he used to take when going to see his neighbour, who hid herself -at the Château de Passy during the Terror. - -I have passed four or five times through the Senonais since the death -of my dear host. I saw the hills from the high-road: Joubert walked -there no longer; I recognised the trees, the fields, the vines, the -little heaps of stones on which we used to rest ourselves. Driving -through Villeneuve, I have cast a glance on the deserted street and -the closed house of my friend. The last time when that happened, I was -going on an embassy to Rome: ah, if he had been at home, I would have -taken him with me to Madame de Beaumont's grave! It has pleased God to -open a celestial Rome to M. Joubert, even better suited to his soul, -which abandoned Platonism for Christianity. I shall not meet him again -here below: - -"I shall go to him rather: but he shall not return to me[414]." - -The success of _Atala_ having decided me to start afresh on the _Génie -du Christianisme_, of which two volumes were already in print, Madame -de Beaumont offered to give me a room in the country, in a house which -she had hired at Savigny[415]. I spent six months with her in this -retreat, with M. Joubert and our other friends. - -The house stood at the entrance to the village, on the Paris side, -near an old high-road known in that part as the Chemin de Henri IV.: -it leant against a vine-clad slope, and faced Savigny Park, ending in -a wooded screen, and crossed by the little River Orge. On the left, -the plain of Viry spread out as far as the springs of Juvisy. In every -direction, in this part of the country, lie valleys, where we used to -go in the evenings in search of new walks. - -In the morning, we breakfasted together; after breakfast, I withdrew to -my work; Madame de Beaumont had the goodness to copy out the quotations -which I marked for her. This noble woman offered me a shelter when I -had none: without the peace which she gave me, I should perhaps never -have finished a work which I had been unable to complete during my -misfortunes. - -I shall evermore remember certain evenings passed in this refuge of -friendship: on returning from walking we gathered near a fresh-water -basin, which stood in the middle of a grass-plot in the kitchen-garden. -Madame Joubert, Madame de Beaumont and I sat down on a bench; Madame -Joubert's son rolled on the grass at our feet; that child has already -disappeared. M. Joubert walked alone on a gravel path; two watch-dogs -and a cat played around us, while pigeons cooed on the edge of the -roof. What happiness for a man newly landed from exile, after spending -eight years in profound abandonment, excepting a few days quickly -lapsed! It was generally on these evenings that my friends made me -talk of my travels: I have never described the desert of the New -World so well as at that time. At night, when the windows of our -rustic drawing-room were opened, Madame de Beaumont noted different -constellations, telling me that I should remember one day that she had -taught me to know them: since I have lost her, I have several times, -not far from her grave in Rome, in the midst of the Campagna, looked -in the firmament for the stars whose names she told me: I have seen -them shining above the Sabine Hills; the protracted rays of those -stars shot down and struck the surface of the Tiber. The spot where I -saw them over the woods of Savigny, the spots where I have seen them -since, the fitfulness of my destinies, that sign which a woman had left -for me in the sky to remind me of her: all this broke my heart. By -what miracle does man consent to do what he does upon earth, he who is -doomed to die? - -One day, in our retreat, we saw a man enter stealthily by one window -and go out by another: it was M. de Laborie[416]; he was escaping from -Bonaparte's claws. Shortly after appeared one of those souls in pain -which are of a different species from other souls and which, on their -passage, mingle their unknown misfortune with the vulgar sufferings of -mankind: it was Lucile, my sister. - -[Sidenote: I meet my sisters.] - -After my arrival in France, I had written to my family to inform them -of my return. Madame la Comtesse de Marigny, my eldest sister, was the -first to come to me, went to the wrong street, and met five Messieurs -Lassagne, of whom the last climbed up through a cobbler's trap-door to -answer to his name. Madame de Chateaubriand came in her turn: she was -charming, and full of the qualities calculated to give me the happiness -which I found with her after we came together again. Madame la Comtess -de Caud, Lucile, came next. M. Joubert and Madame de Beaumont became -smitten with a passionate fondness and a tender pity for her. Then -commenced between them a correspondence which ended only with the death -of the two women who had bent over towards one another like two flowers -of the same species on the point of fading away. Madame Lucile having -stopped at Versailles on the 30th of September 1802, I received this -note from her: - - "I write to beg you to thank Madame de Beaumont on my behalf - for the invitation she has sent me to go to Savigny. I hope - to have that pleasure in about a fortnight, unless there be - any objection on Madame de Beaumont's side." - -Madame de Caud came to Savigny as she had promised. - -I have told you how, in my youth, my sister, a canoness of the Chapter -of the Argentière, and destined for that of Remiremont, cherished an -attachment for M. de Malfilâtre, a counsellor to the Parliament of -Brittany, which, remaining locked within her breast, had increased -her natural melancholy. During the Revolution she married M. le Comte -de Caud, and lost him after fifteen months of marriage. The death of -Madame la Comtesse de Farcy, a sister whom she fondly loved, added -to Madame de Caud's sadness. She next attached herself to Madame de -Chateaubriand, my wife, and gained an empire over the latter which -became painful, for Lucile was violent, masterful, unreasonable, and -Madame de Chateaubriand, subject to her caprices, hid from her in order -to render her the services which a richer shows to a susceptible and -less happy friend. - -Lucile's genius and character had almost reached the pitch of madness -of Jean Jacques Rousseau; she thought herself exposed to secret -enemies: she gave Madame de Beaumont, M. Joubert, myself, false -addresses at which to write to her; she examined the seals, seeking to -discover whether they had not been broken; she wandered from one home -to the other, unable to remain either with my sisters or my wife; she -had taken an antipathy to them, and Madame de Chateaubriand, after -showing her a devotion surpassing all that one could imagine, had ended -by breaking down under the burden of so cruel an affection. - -Another fatality had struck Lucile: M. de Chênedollé, then living -near Vire, had gone to see her at Fougères; soon there was talk of a -marriage, which fell through. Everything failed my sister at once, and, -thrown back upon herself, she no longer had the strength to bear up. -This plaintive spectre rested for a moment on a stone, in the smiling -solitude of Savigny: there were so many hearts there which would have -joyfully received her! They would so gladly have restored her to a -sweet reality of existence! But Lucile's heart could beat only in -an atmosphere made expressly for her and never breathed by others. -She swiftly devoured the days of the world apart in which Heaven had -placed her. Why had God created a being only to suffer? What mysterious -relation can there be between a long-suffering nature and an eternal -principle? - -My sister had not changed in any way; she had only taken the fixed -expression of her ills: her head had sunk a little, like a head on -which the hours had weighed heavily. She reminded me of my parents: -those first family memories, evoked from the grave, surrounded me like -wraiths which had gathered round at night to warm themselves at the -dying flame of a funeral pile. As I watched her, I seemed to see in -Lucile my whole childhood, looking out at me from behind her somewhat -wild eyes. - -The vision of pain faded away: that woman, borne down by life, seemed -to have come to fetch the other dejected woman whom she was to take -with her. - -* - -[Sidenote: Talma.] - -The summer passed: according to custom, I promised myself to begin it -again next year; but the hand of the clock does not return to the hour -which we would wish to call back. During the winter, in Paris, I made -some new acquaintances. M. Jullien, a rich man, obliging, and a jovial -table-companion, although belonging to a family in which they killed -themselves, had a box at the Français; he used to lend it to Madame de -Beaumont: I went four or five times to the play with M. de Fontanes -and M. Joubert. When I entered the world, old-fashioned comedy was in -all its glory; I found it again in a state of complete decomposition. -Tragedy still kept up, thanks to Mademoiselle Duchesnois[417] and, -above all, to Talma, who had attained the highest level of dramatic -talent. I had seen him when he made his first appearances; he was less -handsome and, so to speak, less young than at the age when I saw him -again: he had acquired the distinction, the nobility, and the gravity -of years. - -The portrait of Talma which Madame de Staël has drawn in her work on -Germany is only half true: the brilliant writer saw the great actor -through a woman's imagination, and attributed to him what he lacked. - -Of the intermediate world Talma did not know what to make: he did -not understand the man of gentle birth; he did not know our old-time -society; he had not sat at the table of high-born ladies, in the Gothic -tower enshrined in the wood; he knew nothing of the flexibility, the -variety of expression, the gallantry, the light charm of manner, the -ingenuousness, the tenderness, the heroism based upon honour, the -Christian devotion of chivalry: he was not Tancred, or Coucy, or at -least he turned them into heroes of a middle-age of his own creation; -his Othello was placed in the heart of Vendôme. - -Then what was Talma? Himself, his century and antiquity. He had the -deep and concentrated passions of love and of patriotism; they burst -from his breast with the force of an explosion. He had the baleful -inspiration, the deranged genius of the Revolution through which he -had passed. The terrible spectacles with which he was once surrounded -were renewed in his talent with the lamentable and distant accents -of the choruses of Sophocles and Euripides. His grace, which was not -conventional grace, took hold of you like misfortune. Dark ambition, -remorse, jealousy, melancholy of soul, physical pain, madness produced -by the gods and adversity, human affliction: those were what he knew. -His mere entrance upon the stage, the mere sound of his voice were -mightily tragic. Suffering and thought were mingled on his brow, -breathed in his immovability, in his poses, his gestures, his steps. -As a Greek, he would arrive, panting and ominous, from the ruins -of Argos, an immortal Orestes, tormented for three thousand years -by the Eumenides; as a Frenchman, he would come from the solitudes -of Saint-Denis, where the Parcæ of 1793 had cut the thread of the -sepulchral life of the Kings. The very picture of sorrow awaiting -something unknown, but decreed by an unjust Heaven, he went his way, -the galley-slave of fate, inexorably chained between fatality and -terror. - -Time casts an inevitable obscurity over the older dramatic -masterpieces: its projected shadow changes the purest Raphaëls into -Rembrandts[418]; but for Talma, a part of the marvels of Corneille -and Racine would have remained unknown. Dramatic talent is a torch: -it fires other half-extinguished torches and revives geniuses which -enrapture you with their renewed splendour. - -We owe to Talma the perfection of the actor's dress. But are stage -realism and rigour of costume so necessary to art as is supposed? -Racine's characters derive nothing from the cut of their clothes: in -the pictures of the first painters, the back-grounds are neglected and -the costumes incorrect. The "furies" of Orestes, or the "prophecies" of -Joad, read in a drawing-room by Talma in a dress-coat, made as great an -impression as when declaimed upon the stage by Talma in a Greek mantle -or a Jewish robe. Iphigenia was attired like Madame de Sévigné, when -Boileau addressed those fine verses to his friend: - - Jamais Iphigénie en Aulide immolée - N'a coûté tant de pleurs à la Grèce assemblée - Que, dans l'heureux spectacle à nos yeux étalé, - N'en a fait sous son nom verser la Champmeslé[419]. - -This correctness in the representation of inanimate objects is the -spirit of the arts of our time: it points to the decadence of lofty -poetry and of the true drama; we are content with lesser beauties, when -we are impotent to achieve the greater; we imitate armchairs and velvet -to perfection, when we are no longer able to paint the expression of -the man seated on that velvet and in those armchairs. Nevertheless, -once one has descended to that truthfulness of material forms, one -finds one's self obliged to reproduce it; for the public, itself -materialized, demands it. - - -[Sidenote: Comments on the _Génie._] - -Meanwhile I was finishing the _Génie du Christianisme_: Lucien asked -to see some of the proofs; I sent them to him; he added some rather -common-place notes in the margins. - -Although the success of my big book was as brilliant as that of my -little _Atala_, it was nevertheless more widely contested: this was a -serious work, in which I no longer fought the principles of the old -literature and of philosophy with a novel, but attacked them directly -with arguments and facts. The Voltairean empire uttered a cry and flew -to arms. Madame de Staël was mistaken as to the future of my religious -studies: they brought her the work uncut; she pushed her fingers -between the pages, came upon the chapter headed the _Virginité_, and -said to M. Adrien de Montmorency[420], who was with her: - -"Oh Heavens! Our poor Chateaubriand! That will fall to the ground!" - -The Abbé de Boulogne[421], who was shown some portions of my work -before it was sent to press, said to the bookseller who asked his -opinion: - -"If you want to ruin yourself, print that." - -And the Abbé de Boulogne has since written an all too splendid eulogy -of my book. - -Everything, in fact, seemed to prophesy failure. What hope could I -have, I with no name and no extollers, of destroying the influence -of Voltaire, which had prevailed for more than half a century, -of Voltaire, who had raised the huge edifice completed by the -Encyclopædists and consolidated by all the famous men in Europe? -What! were the Diderots, the d'Alemberts, the Duclos[422], the -Dupuis[423], the Helvétius[424], the Condorcets[425] minds that carried -no authority? What! was the world to return, to the Golden Legend, to -renounce the admiration it had acquired for masterpieces of science and -reason? How could I ever win a case which Rome armed with its thunders, -the clergy with its might, had been unable to save: a case defended -in vain by the Archbishop of Paris, Christophe de Beaumont[426], -supported by the decrees of the Parliament and the armed force and -name of the King? Was it not as ridiculous as it was rash on the part -of an unknown man to set himself against a philosophical movement so -irresistible as to have produced the Revolution? It was curious to see -a pygmy "toughen his little arms" to stifle the progress of a century, -stop civilization, and thrust back the human race! Thank God, a word -would be enough to pulverize the madman: wherefore M. Ginguené, when -trouncing the _Génie du Christianisme_ in the _Décade_[427] declared -that the criticism came too late, since my tautologous production -was already forgotten. He said this five or six months after the -publication of a work which the attack of the whole French Academy, on -the occasion of the decennial prizes, was not able to kill. - -[Sidenote: I publish my chief work.] - -It was amid the ruins of our temples that I published the _Génie du -Christianisme._[428] The faithful thought themselves saved: men at that -time felt a need of faith, a thirsting for religious consolations, -which arose from the want of those consolations experienced since -long years. What supernatural strength was required to bear all the -adversities undergone! How many mutilated families had to go to the -Father of mankind in search of the children they had lost! How many -broken hearts, how many solitary souls, were calling for a divine -hand to cure them! One threw one's self into the house of God, as one -enters a doctor's house on the outbreak of an infection. The victims -of our disturbances (and how many different kinds of victims!) saved -themselves at the altar: shipwrecked men clinging to the rock on which -they seek for salvation. - -Bonaparte, at that time hoping to found his power on the first basis -of society, had just made arrangements with the Court of Rome: he at -first raised no obstacle against the publication of a work calculated -to enhance the popularity of his schemes; he had to struggle against -the men about him and against the declared enemies of religion; he was -glad therefore to be defended from the outside by the opinion called up -by the _Génie du Christianisme._ Later, he repented him of his mistake; -ideas of regular monarchy had sprung into being together with ideas of -religion. - -An episode in the _Génie du Christianisme_, which at the time caused -less stir than _Atala_, fixed one of the characters of modern -literature; but I may say that, if _René_ did not exist, I should not -now write it: if it were possible for me to destroy it, I would do so. -A family of Renés, poets and prose-writers, has swarmed into being: -we have heard nothing but mournful and desultory phrases; it has been -a question of nothing but winds and storms, of unknown words directed -to the clouds and the night. No scribbler fresh from college but has -imagined himself the unhappiest of men; no babe of sixteen but has -believed himself to have exhausted life and to be tormented by his -genius, but has, in the abyss of his thoughts, abandoned himself to -the "wave of his passions," struck his pale and dishevelled brow, and -astonished stupefied mankind with a misfortune of which he did not know -the name, nor they either. - -In _René_ I had laid bare one of the infirmities of my century; but -it was a different madness in the novelists to try to make universal -such transcendental afflictions. The general sentiments which compose -the basis of humanity, paternal and maternal affection, filial -piety, friendship, love, are inexhaustible; but particular ways of -feeling, idiosyncrasies of mind and character, cannot be spread out -and multiplied over wide and numerous scenes. The small undiscovered -corners of the human heart are a narrow field; there is nothing left to -gather in that field after the hand which has been the first to mow it. -A malady of the soul is not a permanent nor natural state: one cannot -reproduce it, make a literature of it, make use of it as of a general -passion constantly modified at the will of the artists who handle it -and change its form. - -Be that as it may, literature became tinged with the colours of -my religious paintings, even as public affairs have retained the -phraseology of my writings on citizenship: the _Monarchy according to -the Charter_ has been the rudiment of our representative government, -and my article in the _Conservateur_, on "Moral Interests and Material -Interests," has bequeathed those two designations to politics. - -Writers did me the honour of imitating _Atala_ and _René_, in the -same way that the pulpit borrowed my accounts of the missions and -advantages of Christianity. The passages in which I show that, by -driving the pagan divinities from the woods, our broader religion has -restored nature to its solitudes; the paragraphs where I discuss the -influence of our religion upon our manner of seeing a painting, where -I examine the changes wrought in poetry and eloquence; the chapters -which I devote to inquiries into the foreign sentiments introduced -into the dramatic characters of antiquity contain the germ of the new -criticism. Racine's characters, as I have said, both are and are not -Greek characters: they are Christian characters; that is what no one -had understood. - -[Sidenote: Effects of the publication.] - -If the effect of the _Génie du Christianisme_ had been only a -reaction against doctrines to which the revolutionary misfortunes -were attributed, that effect would have ceased so soon as the cause -was removed; it would not have been prolonged to the time at which -I am writing. But the action of the _Génie du Christianisme_ upon -public opinion was not confined to the momentary resurrection of a -religion supposed to be in its grave: a more lasting metamorphosis was -operated. If the work contained innovations of style, it also contained -changes of doctrine; not only the manner, but the matter, was altered; -atheism and materialism were no longer the basis of the belief or -unbelief of young minds; the idea of God and of the immortality of -the soul resumed its empire: whence came an alteration in the chain -of ideas linked one to the other. A man was no longer riveted to his -place by an anti-religious prejudice; he no longer thought himself -obliged to remain a mummy of annihilation, wrapped in philosophical -swathing-bands; he permitted himself to examine any system, however -absurd it might seem to him, _even though it were Christian._ - -Besides the faithful who returned at the sound of their shepherd's -voice, there were formed, by this right of free examination, other -_à priori_ faithful. Lay down God as a principle, and the Word will -follow. The Son proceeds necessarily from the Father. - -The various abstract combinations succeed only in substituting for -the Christian mysteries other mysteries still more difficult of -comprehension. Pantheism, which, besides, exists in three or four -shapes, and which it is the fashion nowadays to ascribe to enlightened -intelligences, is the absurdest of Eastern dreams brought back to -light by Spinoza[429]. One has but to read the article by the sceptic -Bayle[430] on that Jew of Amsterdam. The positive tone in which -certain people speak of all these things would be revolting, were -it not that it arises from want of study; they take up words which -they do not understand, and imagine themselves to be transcendental -geniuses. Be assured that Abélard, that St. Bernard, that St. -Thomas Aquinas and their fellows brought to bear upon the study of -metaphysics a superiority of judgment which we do not approach; -that the Saint-Simonian[431], Phalansterian, Fourieristic[432], -Humanitarian[433] systems were discovered and practised by the -different heresies; that what is placed before us as progress and -discovery is so much old lumber hawked about for fifteen centuries -in the schools of Greece and the colleges of the Middle Ages. -The misfortune is that the first sectaries could not succeed in -founding their Neo-Platonic Republic, when Gallienus[434] permitted -Plotinus[435] to make the experiment in Campania; later, people made -the great mistake of burning the sectaries when they proposed to -establish the community of goods and to pronounce prostitution holy, by -urging that a woman cannot, without sin, refuse a man who asks of her a -transient union in the name of Jesus Christ: all that was needed, said -they, to accomplish this union was to annihilate one's soul and deposit -it for a moment in the bosom of God. - -The shock which the _Génie du Christianisme_ gave to men's minds caused -the eighteenth century to emerge from the old road and flung it for -ever out of its path. People began again, or rather they began for the -first time to study the sources of Christianity; on re-reading the -Fathers (presuming that they had read them before) they were struck at -meeting with so many curious facts, so much philosophical science, so -many beauties of style of every kind, so many ideas which, by a more -or less perceptible gradation, produced the transition from ancient -to modern society: an unique and memorable era of humanity, in which -Heaven communicates with earth through the medium of souls set in men -of genius. - -Beside the crumbling world of paganism there arose, in former times, -as though outside society, another world, looking on at those great -spectacles, poor, retiring, secluded, taking no part in the business -of life except when its lessons or its succour were needed. It was a -marvellous thing to see those early bishops, almost all honoured with -the name of saints and martyrs, those simple priests watching over the -relics and cemeteries; those monks and hermits in their convents or -in their caves, laying down laws of peace, morals, charity, when all -was war, corruption, barbarism; going between the tyrants of Rome and -the leaders of the Tartars and Goths, to prevent the injustice of the -former and the cruelty of the latter; stopping armies with a wooden -cross and a peaceful word; the weakest of men, and protecting the world -against Attila[436]; placed between two universes to be the link that -joined them, to console the last moments of an expiring society and -support the first steps of a society in its cradle. - -* - -[Sidenote: My own criticism.] - -It was impossible but that the truths unfolded in the _Génie du -Christianisme_ should contribute to a change of ideas. Again, it is to -this work that the present love for the buildings of the Middle Ages -is due: it is I who have called upon the young century to admire the -old temples. If my opinion has been misused; if it is not true that -our cathedrals approach the Parthenon in beauty; if it is false that -those churches teach us unknown facts in their documents of stone; if -it is madness to maintain that those granite memories reveal to us -things that escaped the learned Benedictines; if by dint of eternally -repeating the word Gothic people grow wearied to death of it: that -is not my fault. For the rest, with respect to the arts, I know the -shortcomings of the _Génie du Christianisme_; that portion of my work -is faulty, because, in 1800, I was not acquainted with the arts: -I had not seen Italy, nor Greece, nor Egypt. Also, I did not make -sufficient use of the lives of the saints and of the legends, although -they offered me a number of marvellous instances: by selecting with -taste, one could there reap a plentiful harvest. This field of the -wealth of mediæval imagination surpasses the _Metamorphoses_ of Ovid -and the Milesian fables in fruitfulness. My work, moreover, contains -some scanty or false judgments, such as that which I pronounce upon -Dante, to whom I have since paid a brilliant tribute. In the serious -respect, I have completed the _Génie du Christianisme_ in my _Études -historiques_, one of my writings that has been least spoken of and most -plundered. - -The success of _Atala_ had delighted me, because my soul was still -fresh; that of the _Génie du Christianisme_ was painful to me: I was -obliged to sacrifice my time to a more or less useless correspondence -and to irrelevant civilities. A so-called admiration did not atone to -me for the vexations that await a man whose name the crowd remembers. -What good can supply the place of the peace which you have lost by -admitting the public to your intimacy? Add to that the restlessness -with which the Muses love to afflict those who attach themselves -to their cult, the worries attendant upon a compliant character, -inaptitude for fortune, loss of leisure, an uncertain temper, livelier -affections, unreasonable melancholy, groundless joys: who, if he had -the choice, would purchase on those conditions the uncertain advantages -of a reputation which you are not sure of obtaining, which will be -contested during your life, which posterity will refuse to confirm, and -which your death will snatch from you for ever? - -The literary controversy on innovations of style which _Atala_ -had aroused was renewed upon the publication of the _Génie du -Christianisme._ - -A characteristic feature of the imperial school, and even of the -republican school, must be noted: while society advanced for better or -for worse, literature remained stationary; foreign to the change of -the ideas, it did not belong to its own time. In comedy, the squires -of the village, the Colins, the Babets, or else the intrigues of the -drawing-rooms, which were no longer known, were played, as I have -already remarked, before coarse and blood-thirsty men, themselves the -destroyers of the manners whose picture was presented to them; in -tragedy, a plebeian pit interested itself in the families of nobles and -kings. - -Two things kept literature at the date of the eighteenth century: the -impiety which it derived from Voltaire and the Revolution, and the -despotism with which Bonaparte struck it. The head of the State found a -profit in those subordinate letters which he had put in barracks, which -presented arms to him, which sallied forth at the command of "Turn -out, the guard!" which marched in rank, and which went through their -evolutions like soldiers. Any form of independence seemed a rebellion -against his power; he would no more consent to a riot of words and -ideas than he suffered insurrection. He suspended the Habeas Corpus for -thought as well as for individual liberty. Let us also recognise that -the public, weary of anarchy, was glad to submit again to the yoke of -law and order. - -[Sidenote: New forms in literature.] - -The literature which expresses the new era did not commence to reign -until forty or fifty years after the time of which it was the idiom. -During that half-century, it was employed only by the opposition. -It was Madame de Staël, it was Benjamin Constant[437], it was -Lemercier[438], it was Bonald, it was myself, in short, who were the -first to speak that language. The alteration in literature of which -the nineteenth century boasts came to it from the Emigration and from -exile: it was M. de Fontanes who brooded on those birds of a different -species from himself, because, by going back to the seventeenth -century, he had gained the strength of that fertile period and lost the -barrenness of the eighteenth. One portion of the human intelligence, -that which treats of transcendental matters, alone advanced with an -even step with civilisation; unfortunately, the glory of knowledge -was not without stain: the Laplaces[439], the Lagranges[440], the -Monges[441], the Chaptals[442], the Berthollets[443], all the -prodigies, once haughty democrats, became Napoleon's most obsequious -servants. Let it be said to the honour of Letters: the new literature -was free, science was servile; character did not correspond with -genius, and they whose thought had sped to the uppermost sky were not -able to raise their souls above the feet of Bonaparte: they pretended -to have no need of God, that was why they needed a tyrant. - -The Napoleonic classic was the genius of the nineteenth century dressed -up in the periwig of Louis XIV., or curled as in the days of Louis -XV. Bonaparte had ordained that the men of the Revolution should not -appear at Court save in full dress, sword at side. One saw nothing -of the France of the moment; it was not order, it was discipline. -Nor could anything be more tiresome than that pale resuscitation of -the literature of former days. That cold copy, that unproductive -anachronism, disappeared when the new literature broke in noisily with -the _Génie du Christianisme._ The death of the Duc d'Enghien had for -me this advantage that, by causing me to step aside, it left me free -in my solitude to follow my own inspiration, and prevented me from -enlisting in the regular infantry of old Pindus: I owed my moral to my -intellectual liberty. - -In the last chapter of the _Génie du Christianisme_, I discuss what -would have become of the world if the Faith had not been preached at -the time of the invasion of the Barbarians; in another paragraph, -I speak of an important work to be undertaken on the changes -which Christianity introduced in the laws after the conversion of -Constantine[444]. - -Supposing religious opinion to exist in its present form, if the _Génie -du Christianisme_ were yet to be written, I would compose it quite -differently: instead of recalling the benefits and the institutions -of our religion in the past, I would show that Christianity is the -thought of the future and of human liberty; that that redeeming and -Messianic thought is the only basis of social equality; that it alone -can establish the latter, because it places by the side of that -equality the necessity of duty, the corrective and regulator of the -democratic instinct. Legality is no sufficient restraint, because -it is not permanent; it derives its strength from the law: now, the -law is the work of men who pass away and differ. A law is not always -obligatory; it can always be changed by another law: as opposed to -that, morals are constant; they have their force within themselves, -because they spring from the immutable order: they alone, therefore, -can ensure permanency. - -I would show that, wherever Christianity has prevailed, it has changed -ideas, rectified notions of justice and injustice, substituted -assertion for doubt, embraced the whole of humanity in its doctrines -and precepts. I would try to conjecture the distance at which we still -are from the total accomplishment of the Gospel, by calculating the -number of evils that have been destroyed and of improvements that have -been effected in the eighteen centuries which have elapsed on this side -of the Cross. Christianity acts slowly, because it acts everywhere; it -does not cling to the reform of any particular society, it works upon -society in general; its philanthropy is extended to all the sons of -Adam: that is what it expresses with a marvellous simplicity in its -commonest petitions, in its daily prayers, when it says to the crowd in -the temple: - -"Let us pray for every suffering thing upon earth." - -What religion has ever spoken in this way? The Word was not made flesh -in the man of pleasure, it became incarnate in the man of sorrow, with -a view to the enfranchisement of all, to an universal brotherhood and -an infinite salvation. - -If the _Génie du Christianisme_ had only given rise to such -investigations, I should congratulate myself on having published it. -It remains to be seen whether, at the time of the appearance of the -book, a different _Génie du Christianisme_, raised on the new plan the -outline of which I have barely indicated, would have obtained the same -success. In 1803, when nothing was granted to the old religion, when it -was the object of scorn, when none knew the first word of the question, -would one have done well to speak of future liberty as descending from -Calvary, at a time when people were still bruised from the excesses of -the liberty of the passions? Would Bonaparte have suffered such a work -to appear? It was perhaps useful to stimulate regrets, to interest the -imagination in a cause so misjudged, to call attention to the despised -object, to render it endearing before showing how serious it was, how -mighty and how salutary. - -Now, supposing that my name leaves some trace behind it, I shall owe -this to the _Génie du Christianisme_: with no illusion as to the -intrinsic value of the work, I admit that it possesses an accidental -value; it came just at the right moment. For this reason it caused me -to take my place in one of those historic periods which, mixing an -individual with things, compel him to be remembered. If the influence -of my work was not limited to the change which, in the past forty -years, it has produced among the living generations; if it still served -to resuscitate among late-comers a spark of the civilizing truths of -the earth; if the slight symptom of life which one seems to perceive -was there sustained in the generations to come, I should depart full of -hope in the divine mercy. O reconciled Christian, do not forget me in -thy prayers, when I am gone; my faults, perhaps, will stop me outside -those gates where my charity cried on thy behalf: - -"Be ye lifted up, O eternal gates[445]!" - - - -[361] This book was begun at Dieppe in 1836 and finished in Paris in -1837. It was revised in December 1846.--T. - -[362] Anne Geneviève de Bourbon-Condé, Duchesse de Longueville -(1619-1679), sister of the great Condé, had intrigued against the -Court, and played a great part in the war of the Fronde (1648-1652). -The escape took place in 1650. Eventually, Mazarin defeating all her -intrigues, the Duchesse de Longueville withdrew into retirement and a -convent--T. - -[363] Queen Anne of Austria (1602-1666), daughter of King Philip III. -of Spain, and wife of Louis XIII. of France, whom she married in 1615. -She gave birth to Louis XIV. in 1638, after twenty-three years of -marriage, and became Regent of the Kingdom on the death of Louis XIII. -in 1643.--T. - -[364] Henri de La Tour d'Auvergne, Maréchal Vicomte de Turenne -(1611-1688), joined the Fronde on Madame de Longueville's persuasion, -but returned to his allegiance the next year (1651). He was born a -Protestant, was converted by Bossuet, but abjured the Catholic Faith in -1678.--T. - -[365] François Duc de La Rochefoucauld (1605 or 1613-1680). He played -a small part in the Fronde through his infatuation for Madame de -Longueville. The _Maxims_ were published in 1665, under the title of -_Réflexions et sentences, ou Maximes morales._ He spent his old age in -the society of Madame de La Fayette and Madame de Sévigné.--T. - -[366] Marie Madeleine Comtesse de La Fayette (1634-1693), _née_ Pioche -de La Vergne, author of a number of successful novels and a History of -Henrietta of England.--T. - -[367] Charlotte Marguerite Princesse de Condé (1594-1650), _née_ de -Montmorency, and married in 1609 to Henry II. Prince de Condé, who -removed her to Brussels out of the reach of King Henry IV. "That poor -wretch," the Duchesse de Longueville, was her daughter.--T. - -[368] Madame de Brienne was the wife of Henri Auguste Comte de Loménie -de Brienne, author of the curious Memoirs.--T. - -[369] BÉRANGER, _Le Vieux Caporal_, 49, 50: - - "Who is sobbing and weeping down yonder? - Ah, 'tis the drummer's widow so sad."--T. - - -[370] BÉRANGER, _Le Vieux Caporal_, chorus: - - "Conscripts, keep step; do not weep; - . . . Keep step, the step keep." ---T. - -[371] Jules Cardinal Mazarin (1602-1661), Prime Minister to the Regent -Anne of Austria, and eventual victor over the Fronde.--T. - -[372] The Duc de La Rochefoucauld left _Mémoires sur la règne d'Anne -d'Autriche_, in addition to the _Maximes._--T. - -[373] Marie Caroline Ferdinande Louise Duchesse de Berry (1798-1870), -daughter of King Ferdinand I. of Naples, and married to the Duc de -Berry in 1816.--T. - -[374] The Duchesse de Berry brought Dieppe into fashion in the later -years of the Restoration; she visited it yearly, with her children, -during the bathing season.--B. - -[375] RABELAIS.--_Author's Note._ - -[376] Now the Place de la Concorde.--T. - -[377] Migneret's book-shop was at No. 1186, Rue Jacob. The houses were -at that time numbered by districts, not by streets.--B. - -[378] - -"Both through his virtues and his charms -To be their father he deserved." ---T. - -[379] Étienne Gaspard Robertson (1762-1837), a professor of physics who -perfected or improved the Archimedean mirror, the magic-lantern, and -the parachute.--T. - -[380] Now the Quai Malaquais.--T. - -[381] The Theatines, or "Regular Clerks," a very strict congregation, -founded in 1524 by St. Cajetan and Giovanni Pietro Caraffa, Bishop of -Chieti, or Theate, from which the Order takes its name.--T. - -[382] The Requisition was a sort of levy in mass decreed by the -Committee of Public Safety on the 23rd of August 1793, and produced -1,400,000 men. It was the immediate forerunner of the Conscription.--T. - -[383] The title of this letter was _Lettre à M. de Fontanes sur la -deuxième édition de l'ouvrage de Mme. de Staël_ (_De la littérature -considérée dans ses rapports avec la morale_, etc.), and it was signed, -l'_Auteur du Génie du Christianisme._ It was printed in the _Mercure_ -of 1 Nivoise Year IX. (22 December 1800), and now figures in all the -editions of the _Génie du Christianisme._ It is one of Chateaubriand's -most eloquent writings.--B. - -[384] The letter appeared in the _Journal des Débats_ of 10 Germinal -Year IX. (31 March 1801).--B. - -[385] The volume is announced as "just out" in the _Journal des Débats_ -of 27 Germinal (17 April). It was a small duodecimo, of XXIV. +210 -pages, with the title _Atala, ou les Amours de deux sauvages dans le -désert._--B. - -[386] Marie Marguerite Marquise de Brinvilliers (1630-1676), _née_ -Dreux d'Avray, a famous poisoner, who with her lover, Gaudin de -Sainte-Croix, poisoned the marquise's father, sister, and two brothers. -The crimes were discovered on the death of Sainte-Croix in 1670. The -Brinvilliers took to flight, but was captured at Liège, brought back to -Paris, and tried and executed in 1676.--T. - -[387] A waxwork show established in the Palais-Royal and on the -Boulevard du Temple in 1770 by a German who called himself Curtius. The -establishment on the Boulevard du Temple remained open until the end of -the reign of Louis-Philippe. The figures are still sometimes met with -at village fairs.--B. - -[388] Chaillot, which now forms part of Paris, was at that time a -village at the gates, to the west, on the road to Versailles.--T. - -[389] The _Nouvelle Héloïse_, Rousseau's most popular work, was -published in 1759--T. - -[390] Dr. Joseph Marie Joachim Vigaroux (1759-1829), a native of -Montpellier, in Provence, and author of some medical works of no -special value.--T. - -[391] Marie Anne Elisa Bacciochi (1774-1820), Bonaparte's eldest -sister, married Felix Pascal Prince Bacciochi in 1797. Her husband -became Prince of Lucca and Piombino in 1805, Elisa exercising the real -power; and in 1808 Napoleon made her Grand-duchess of Tuscany. She was -dethroned in 1814, and assumed the title of Countess of Compignano. -Prince Bacciochi died in Rome in 1841.--T. - -[392] Lucien Bonaparte (1775-1840), Napoleon's second brother, created -Prince of Canino in 1804, a prisoner in England from 1810 to 1814. He -was twice married to ladies of middle-class family (_vide infra_), by -whom he had eleven children.--T. - -[393] François Joachim Cardinal de Pierres de Bernis (1715-1794), -Anacreontic poet and religious controversialist. He had been Madame de -Pompadour's lover, and owed his advancement to her. Voltaire called him -Babet la Bouquetière, owing to the profusion of flowers of rhetoric -which he employed in his verses.--T. - -[394] Madame Lucien Bonaparte (_d._ 1800), _née_ Christine Éléonore -Boyer, married Lucien in 1794, and was the sister of the woman who kept -the inn at Saint-Maximin, where Lucien, then under age, was staying. -The marriage took place without the consent of Madame Bonaparte, the -mother, and was invalid by French law. Lucien's second wife, whom he -married in 1802, was Marie Alexandrine Charlotte Louise Laurence de -Bleschamp (1778-1855), the divorced wife of Jean François Hippolyte -Jouberthon, a retired stockbroker.--B. - -[395] Louis Gabriel Amboise, Vicomte de Bonald (1753-1840), a -distinguished monarchical writer, created a peer of France in 1823, and -a member of the French Academy.--T. - -[396] Charles Lioult de Chênedollé (1769-1833), author of the _Génie de -l'homme_ and other poems.--T. - -[397] Pauline Marie Michelle Frédérique Ulrique de -Montmorin-Saint-Hérem, Comtesse de Beaumont (1768-1803).--T. - -[398] The Comte de Montmorin did not die on the scaffold, but was -butchered at the Abbaye on the 2nd of September 1792. On the next day -his cousin, Louis Victor Hippolyte Luce de Montmorin, had his throat -cut at the Conciergerie, where he had been taken after his acquittal -by the Criminal Tribunal on the 17th of August. Madame de Montmorin, -Madame de Beaumont's mother, was guillotined on the 10th of May 1794; -her second son was guillotined with her. Her daughter, wife of the -Comte de La Luzerne, died on the 10th of July 1794, at the Archbishop's -Palace, which had been turned into the prison hospital.--B. - -[399] Madame Élisabeth Vigée-Lebrun (1756-1842), _née_ Vigée, the -famous French portrait painter. She left nearly 700 portraits, in -addition to some historical pictures and a crowd of landscapes.--T. - -[400] Matthieu Louis Molé (1781-1855), created a Count of the Empire -in 1813, when he became Minister of Justice, and held successive -ministries under the Restoration and Louis-Philippe. He was a moderate -statesman of much dignity of character and of great distinction of -person, manners, and speech. He was elected a member of the French -Academy in 1840.--T. - -[401] Étienne Duc Pasquier (1767-1862), appointed Prefect of Police in -1810. After holding various ministerial offices under the Restoration, -he was made President of the Chamber of Peers by Louis-Philippe in -1830, Chancellor in 1837, and a duke in 1844. Elected to the French -Academy in 1842.--T. - -[402] Louise Marie Victorine Comtesse de Chastenay-Lanty (1771-1855) -was never married. Her title of madame is due to the fact that -she became a canoness at an early age (1785). Her observation to -Chateaubriand on the subject of Joubert will be found repeated -in almost precisely the same words in Madame de Chastenay's -recently-published Memoirs (1896), vol. II. p. 82.--T. - -[403] Louis Bénoît Picard (1769-1828), an actor, theatrical manager, -and author of some eighty stage-plays of varying merit. He was received -into the French Academy in 1807.--T. - -[404] In the "small company" which, at the beginning of the -century, met in the drawing-room of Madame de Beaumont, in the Rue -Neuve-du-Luxembourg, or at Chateaubriand's, in his little apartment in -the Hôtel Coislin, on the Place Louis XV., or again, in the summer, -at Villeneuve-sur-Yonne, under M. Joubert's roof, each one, according -to an ancient fashion, had his nickname. Chateaubriand was called _le -chat_, the "Cat," by way of abbreviation of his name, or possibly -because of his illegible handwriting; Madame de Chateaubriand, who -had claws, was the "She-cat." Chênedollé and Gueneau de Mussy, more -melancholy than René, had received the names of the "Big" and the -"Little Crow;" sometimes also Chateaubriand was called the "Illustrious -Crow of the Cordilleras," by allusion to his travels in America. -Fontanes was thickset, and had something athletic in his short stature. -His friends jestingly compared him to the boar of Erymanthus, and -called him the "Boar." Thin and slender, skimming over the earth which -she was soon to leave, Madame de Beaumont had received the nickname -of the "Swallow." Joubert, a lover of the woods, and at that time a -great walker, was the "Stag;" while his wife, who was goodness and -wit personified, but of a somewhat fierce humour, laughed when she -was called the "She-wolf." Never was so intellectual a collection of -"animals" seen before.--B. - -[405] Madame Hocquart was a lady possessed of many charms of beauty and -mind. She was the daughter of Pourrat and the sister of Madame Laurent -Lecoulteux.--B. - -[406] The Comtesse de Vintimille du Luc, _née_ de La Live de Jully, was -niece to Madame Hocquart.--B. - -[407] Marie Duchesse de Chevreuse (1600-1679), _née_ de -Rohan-Montbazon, married in 1617 to Albert Duc de Luynes, Constable -of France, and in 1622 to Claude de Lorraine, Duc de Chevreuse. The -Duchesse de Chevreuse was a favourite of Anne of Austria, and is famed -for her beauty and her wit.--T. - -[408] Françoise d'Aubigné, Marquise de Maintenon (1635-1719), the last -mistress and eventual wife (1684-1685) of Louis XIV.--T. - -[409] Madame Geoffrin (1699-1777), _née_ Rodet, head of the famous -literary _salon_ in the Rue Saint-Honoré.--T. - -[410] Marie Marquise du Deffant (1697-1780), _née_ de Vichy-Chamroud, -a celebrated leader of eighteenth-century society in France. Her -correspondence with Walpole, Voltaire, d'Alembert, etc., was published -in 1809 to 1811.--T. - -[411] Antoine Hugues Calixte de Montmorin (1772-1794), guillotined 10th -May 1794.--B. - -[412] Margaret of Valois (1552-1615), Queen of France and Navarre, -daughter of King Henry II. of France. She married in 1672 the Prince -of Béarn, afterwards King of Navarre and of France (Henry IV.), who -imprisoned her at Usson, in Auvergne, and eventually divorced her -(1599). She left Memoirs of the period from 1565 to 1587, first -published in 1658.--T. - -[413] Philip II. (Augustus), King of France (1165-1223).--T. - -[414] Kings XII. 23.--T. - -[415] Chateaubriand and Madame de Beaumont took up their abode at -Savigny on the 22nd of May 1801.--B. - -[416] Antoine Athanase Roux de Laborie (1769-1840), a protégé of -Talleyrand's, who attained to some distinction as a politician. He had -been compromised in a Royalist conspiracy with the two brothers Bertin, -with whom he afterwards founded the _Journal des Débats._--T. - -[417] Catherine Joséphine Rafin (1777-1835), known as Mademoiselle -Duchesnois, made her first appearance in 1802 as Phèdre. She was an -ugly woman, but a fine actress. She continued to play until 1830.--T. - -[418] Paul Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-1674); the allusion being to -Rembrandt's famous distribution of light and shade.--T. - -[419] - - "Ne'er did Iphigenia in Aulis laid dead - Cause so many tears in all Greece to be shed - As, in the fine spectacle shown us to-day, - We have wept at the bidding of our Champmeslé." - -Marie Desmare (1644-1698), known as Mademoiselle Champmeslé, made -her first appearance in 1669, and created the title-rôle in Racine's -_Iphigénie_ in 1674, under the poet's directions.--T. - -[420] Anne Pierre Adrien Prince de Montmorency, later Duc de Laval -(1767-1837), French Ambassador successively in Madrid (1814), Rome -(1821), Vienna (1828), and London (1829). He became a member of the -Chamber of Peers in 1820, in succession to his father, deceased, and -resigned his peerage, together with his diplomatic functions, in -1830.--B. - -[421] Étienne Antoine de Boulogne (1747-1825) was made Bishop of Troyes -by Napoleon in 1808. In 1811, Bonaparte imprisoned him at Vincennes, -until 1814, for protesting against the arrest of Pope Pius VII. He -resumed his see under the Restoration, became Archbishop of Vienne in -1817, and was raised to the peerage in 1822.--T. - -[422] Charles Pineau Duclos (1704-1772), admitted to the French Academy -in 1747, and appointed its perpetual secretary in 1755, was author of -the _Considérations sur le Mœurs_, etc., and took the leading part in -the editing of the Dictionary.--T. - -[423] Charles François Dupuis (1742-1809), member of the Institute and -of the Academy of Inscriptions, and author of the _Origine de tous les -cultes, ou la Religion universelle._--T. - -[424] Claude Adrien Helvétius (1715-1771), one of the leaders of the -French philosophy of the eighteenth century, and author of the book -_De l'Esprit_ (1758), condemned by the Sorbonne, the Pope, and the -Parliament of Paris, and burned by the public hangman in 1759.--T. - -[425] Marie Jean Antoine Nicolas Caritat, Marquis de Condorcet -(1743-1794), perpetual secretary of the Academy of Science, and a -principal contributor to the Encyclopædia. The best known of his -voluminous works is the _Esquisse des progrès de l'esprit humain._ He -was arrested as a Girondin, and poisoned himself in prison (28 March -1794).--T. - -[426] Christophe de Beaumont (1703-1781), successively Bishop of -Bayonne, Archbishop of Vienne, and Archbishop of Paris (1746), the -redoubtable adversary of both the Jansenists and Philosophers.--T. - -[427] In Nos. 27, 28, and 29 of the Year X. (1802) of the _Décade -philosophique, littéraire et politique._ The articles were subsequently -collected into a pamphlet.--B. - -[428] It was published on the 24th of Germinal Year X. (14 April -1802), by Migneret, 28, rue du Sépulcre, Faubourg Saint-Germain and Le -Normant, 43, rue des Prêtres-Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois, in five volumes -8vo (the fifth volume consisting entirely of notes and elucidations), -with the title, _Génie du Christianisme, ou Beautés de la religion -chrétienne_, by François Auguste Chateaubriand. The first page of each -volume bore the following epigraph, suppressed in the later editions: - - "Chose admirable! la religion chrétienne, qui ne semble avoir - d'objet que la félicité de l'autre vie, fait encore notre - bonheur dans celle-ci." - -MONTESQUIEU, _Esprit des Lois_, XXIV., iii.--B. - -[429] Baruch, or Benedict, Spinoza (1632-1677), the Portuguese-Jewish -philosopher of Amsterdam. His system of pantheism is set forth in his -_Ethica_ and other works.--T. - -[430] Pierre Bayle (1647-1706) was born a Protestant, became a -Catholic, and then a professional sceptic. His reputation rests upon -his famous _Dictionnaire historique et critique_ (1697), with which he -paved the way for Voltaire and his friends.--T. - -[431] Claude Henri Comte de Saint-Simon (1760-1825) was the founder of -a sect, based upon more or less Socialistic principles, extinguished -by ridicule, and finally dissolved by the Courts for its attacks upon -public morals in 1833. Its author attempted suicide in 1823, but -escaped with the loss of an eye.--T. - -[432] Charles Fourier (1768-1837) was the author of the Phalansterian -movement, based upon the Communistic principle.--T. - -[433] The system maintaining the simple humanity of Christ, and denying -His divinity.--T. - -[434] Publius Licinius Gallienus, Roman Emperor (233-268), gave leave -to Plotinus to build a town in Campania, to be recalled Platonopolis; -but the project fell through.--T. - -[435] Plotinus (_circa_ 205--_circa_ 270) opened his school of -Neo-Platonic philosophy in Rome about the year 245.--T. - -[436] Attila, King of the Huns (_d._ 453), when descending into Italy -in 452 after his defeat in France, was stopped outside Rome by Pope -St. Leo the Great, who persuaded him to return back after exacting a -tribute from the Emperor Valentinian III.--T. - -[437] Henri Benjamin Constant de Rebecque (1767-1830), the well-known -publicist and Liberal politician.--T. - -[438] Népomucène Louis Lemercier (1772-1840), a member of the French -Academy, and author of a number of plays and poems all of a remarkable -character. The finest is his tragedy of Agamemnon. He was one of the -first to break through Boileau's rule of the three unities in dramatic -literature.--T. - -[439] Pierre Simon Marquis de Laplace (1749-1827), a profound -geometrician and a _protégé_ of d'Alembert, was Minister of the -Interior for six weeks after the 18 Brumaire, entered the Senate in -1799, and became President of that body. He was a member of the French -Academy, and was created a marquis and a peer by Louis XVIII. on -becoming its President (1817).--T. - -[440] Joseph Louis Comte Lagrange (1736-1813), another famous -mathematician. He was for twenty years President of the Berlin Academy -(1766-1786). Napoleon made him a Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour, -a count, and a senator. He and Laplace may be said to have completed -Newton's work.--T. - -[441] Gaspard Monge, Comte de Péluse (1746-1818), a member of the -Academy of Science, was for a month Minister of Marine under the -Revolution (1792). During the wars of the Republic he devoted his -knowledge to elaborating the national means of defense, was one of the -founders of the Polytechnic School, accompanied Bonaparte to Egypt, and -became President of the Cairo Institute. Napoleon gave him his title, -created him a senator, and loaded him with honours, all of which he -lost at the Restoration.--T. - -[442] Jean Antoine Chaptal, Comte de Chanteloup (1756-1832), a -distinguished chemist and statesman. He was placed at the head of -the gunpowder factory at Grenelle in 1793, and there displayed an -incredible activity. In 1798 he became one of the original members of -the Institute, Minister of the Interior in 1800, a senator in 1805, and -a peer of France under the Restoration (1819).--T. - -[443] Claude Louis Comte Berthollet (1748-1822), another celebrated -chemist, worked with Monge and Chaptal in the fabrication of gunpowder -and the multiplication of the means of defense during the Republican -wars. He also accompanied Bonaparte to Egypt, where he made many -important researches. The Emperor made him a senator in 1805, and he -received his peerage under the Restoration.--T. - -[444] Constantine I. Emperor of the West (274-337), known as -Constantine the Great, was converted, by a sign of the Cross in the -sky, in the year 312.--T. - -[445] Ps. XXIII. 7, 9.--T. - - - - -BOOK II[446] - - -The years 1802 and 1803--Country-houses--Madame de Custine--M. de -Saint-Martin--Madame de Houdetot and Saint-Lambert--Journey to -the south of France--M. de la Harpe--His death--Interview with -Bonaparte--I am appointed First Secretary of Embassy in Rome--Journey -from Paris to the Savoy Alps--From Mont Cenis to Rome--Milan to -Rome--Cardinal Fesch's palace--My occupations--Madame de Beaumont's -manuscripts--Letters from Madame de Caud--Madame de Beaumont's arrival -in Rome--Letters from my sister--Letter from Madame de Krüdener--Death -of Madame de Beaumont--Her funeral--Letters from M. de Chênedollé, -M. de Fontanes, M. Necker, and Madame de Staël--The years 1803 and -1804--First idea of my Memoirs--I am appointed French Minister to the -Valais--Departure from Rome--The year 1804--The Valais Republic--A -visit to the Tuileries--The Hôtel de Montmorin--I hear the death cried -of the Duc d'Enghien--I give in my resignation. - - -My life became quite disturbed so soon as it ceased to belong to -myself. I had a crowd of acquaintances outside my customary circle. I -was invited to the country-houses which were being restored. One did as -best he could in those half-unfurnished, half-furnished manor-houses, -in which old arm-chairs and new stood side by side. Nevertheless, some -of these manor-houses had remained intact, such as the Marais[447], -which had come into the possession of Madame de La Briche[448], an -excellent woman, whom happiness could never succeed in shaking off. I -remember that my immortality went to the Rue Saint-Dominique d'Enfer -to take a seat for the Marais in a wretched hired coach, where I met -Madame de Vintimille and Madame de Fezensac[449]. At Champlâtreux[450] -M. Molé was having some small rooms on the second floor rebuilt. -His father[451], who had been killed in the revolutionary style, was -replaced, in a dilapidated drawing-room, by a picture in which Matthieu -Molé was represented stopping a riot with his square cap: a picture -which brought home the difference in the times. A splendid intersection -of roads lined with lime-trees had been cut down; but one of the -avenues still remained in all the magnificence of its old shade; new -plantations have since been mixed with it: this is the age of poplars. - -On returning from the Emigration, there was no exile so poor but -laid out the winding walks of an English garden in the ten feet of -land or court-yard which he had recovered: did I myself, in days -past, not plant the Vallée-aux-Loups? Was it not there that I began -these Memoirs? Did I not continue them in Montboissier Park, whose -appearance, disfigured by neglect, its owners were then trying to -revive? Did I not lengthen them in the park at Maintenon[452], quite -recently restored, a new prey for the returning democracy? The castles -burnt in 1789 ought to have warned what remained of the castles to -remain hidden in their ruins: but the steeples of engulfed villages -which pierce through the lava of Vesuvius do not prevent new steeples -and new hamlets from being planted on the surface of that same lava. - -[Sidenote: The Marquise de Custine.] - -Among the bees adjusting their hive was the Marquise de Custine[453], -the heiress of the long tresses of Margaret of Provence[454], wife of -St. Louis, whose blood flowed in her veins. I was present when she took -possession of Fervacques[455], and I had the honour of sleeping in the -bed of the Bearnese, as I had of sleeping in Queen Christina's[456] -bed at Combourg. The journey was no trifling matter: we had to take -on board the carriage Astolphe de Custine[457], then a child, M. -Berstoecher, his tutor, an old Alsatian nurse, who spoke only German, -Jenny, the lady's maid, and Trim, a famous dog which ate up the -provisions for the journey. Would one not have thought that this colony -was going to Fervacques for good? And yet the furnishing of the house -was not quite finished when the signal for removal was given. I saw her -who faced the scaffold with such great courage[458], I saw her, whiter -than one of the Fates, dressed in black, her figure made thin by death, -her head adorned only with her silken tresses; I saw her smile to me -with her pale lips and her beautiful teeth when she left Sécherons, -near Geneva, to breathe her last at Bex, at the entrance to the Valais; -I heard her coffin pass at night along the deserted streets of Lausanne -to take up its eternal place at Fervacques: she was hastening to hide -herself in a property which she had possessed for but a moment, like -her life. I had read on the corner of a chimney-piece in the _château_ -those bad rhymes attributed to the lover of Gabrielle: - - La dame de Fervacques - Mérite de vives attacques[459]. - -The soldier-king had said as much to many others: passing declarations -of men, soon effaced and descending from beauty to beauty down to -Madame de Custine. Fervacques has been sold. - -I also met the Duchesse de Châtillon[460], who adorned my valley -at Aulnay during my absence in the Hundred Days. Mrs. Lindsay, -whom I continued to see, introduced me to Julie Talma[461]. Madame -de Clermont-Tonnerre invited me. We had a common grandmother, and -she was good enough to call me cousin. The widow of the Comte de -Clermont-Tonnerre[462], she was married again, later, to the Marquis -de Talaru[463]. She had converted M. de La Harpe in prison. It was -through her that I knew Neveu, the painter, who was enrolled among the -number of her _cicisbei_: Neveu brought me into momentary connection -with Saint-Martin[464]. - -M. de Saint-Martin thought he had discovered in _Atala_ a certain -cant which was far from my thoughts, but which to his mind proved an -affinity of doctrine between us. Neveu, in order to bring two brothers -together, asked us to dinner in a top room which he occupied in the -out-houses of the Palais-Bourbon. I reached the trysting-place at six -o'clock; the heavenly philosopher was at his post. At seven o'clock, a -discreet man-servant placed a tureen of soup upon the table, withdrew, -and closed the door. We sat down and began to eat in silence. M. de -Saint-Martin, who, for the rest, had a very fine manner, pronounced -only a few oracular phrases. Neveu replied with exclamations, uttered -with a painter's attitudes and grimaces. I said not a word. - -After half an hour, the necromancer returned, removed the soup, and -placed another dish on the table. The courses succeeded each other -in this way, one by one, and at long intervals. M. de Saint-Martin, -becoming gradually more excited, began to talk after the manner of -an archangel; the more he talked, the more obscure did his language -become. Neveu had hinted to me, squeezing my hand, that we should see -extraordinary things, that we should hear sounds. For six mortal hours -I listened and discovered nothing. At midnight, the man of visions -suddenly rose to his feet. I thought that the spirit of darkness or the -heavenly spirit was descending, that the bells were about to ring out -through the mysterious passages; but M. de Saint-Martin declared that -he was exhausted, and that we would resume the conversation another -time: he put on his hat and went away. Unhappily for himself, he was -stopped at the door and obliged to come back by an unexpected visit: -nevertheless he was not long in disappearing. I never saw him again: he -went off to die in the garden of M. Lenoir-Laroche[465], my neighbour -at Aulnay. - -[Sidenote: Swedenborgian nonsense.] - -I am a refractory subject for Swedenborgianism; the Abbé Faria[466], at -a dinner at Madame de Custine's, boasted of being able to kill a canary -by magnetizing it; the canary was the stronger of the two, and the -abbé, beside himself, was obliged to leave the party for fear of being -killed by the canary. The sole presence of myself, the Christian, had -rendered the tripod powerless. - -Another time, the celebrated Gall[467], again at Madame de Custine's, -dined next to me, without knowing me, mistook my facial angle, -took me for a frog, and tried, when he knew who I was, to patch up -his science in a way which made me blush for him. The shape of the -head can assist one in distinguishing the sex in individuals, in -indicating what belongs to the beast, to the animal passions; as to -the intellectual faculties, phrenology will never know them. If one -could collect the different skulls of the great men who have died since -the commencement of the world, and were to place them before the eyes -of the phrenologists without telling them to whom they belonged, they -would not forward one brain to its right address: the examination of -the "bumps" would produce the most comical mistakes. - -I feel conscience-smitten: I spoke of M. de Saint-Martin a trifle -scoffingly; I am sorry for it. That love of scoffing, which I am -constantly thrusting back and which incessantly returns to me, is a -cause of suffering to me; for I hate the satirical spirit as being the -pettiest, commonest, and easiest of all: of course, I am bringing no -charge against high comedy. M. de Saint-Martin was, when all is said -and done, a man of great merit, of noble and independent character. His -ideas, when they were explicable, were lofty and of a superior nature. -Ought I not to sacrifice the two foregoing pages to the generous and -much too flattering declaration of the author of the _Portrait de M. -de Saint-Martin fait par lui-même[468]?_ I should not hesitate to -suppress them, if what I say were able to do the smallest hurt to -the serious reputation of M. de Saint-Martin and to the esteem which -will always cling to his memory. I am glad, for the rest, to see that -my recollection has not deceived me: M. de Saint-Martin may not have -received quite the same impressions as myself at the dinner of which I -speak; but you will see that I have not invented the scene, and that M. -de Saint-Martin's account resembles mine at bottom: - - "On the 27th of January 1803," he says, "I had an interview - with M. de Chateaubriand at a dinner arranged for the purpose - at M. Neveu's, in the Polytechnic School[469]. It would have - been a great advantage to me to have known him earlier: he - is the only irreproachable man of letters with whom I have - come into contact in my existence, and even then I enjoyed - his conversation only during the meal. For, immediately - afterwards, there came a visit which made him dumb for the - rest of the evening, and I do not know when the occasion will - return, because the king of this world takes great care to - put a spoke in the wheel of my cart. For the rest, of whom do - I stand in need except God?" - -M. de Saint-Martin is worth a thousand of me: the dignity of his last -sentence crushes my harmless banter with all the weight of a serious -nature. - -I had seen M. de Saint-Lambert[470] and Madame de Houdetot[471] at the -Marais. Both represented the opinions and the freedom of days gone -by, carefully packed up and preserved: it was the eighteenth century -dying and married after its own fashion. One need but hold on to life -for unlawfulness to become lawful. Men feel an infinite esteem for -immorality because it has not ceased to exist and because time has -adorned it with wrinkles. In truth, a virtuous husband and wife, who -are not husband and wife, but who remain together out of consideration -for their fellow-creatures, suffer a little from their venerable -condition; they bore and detest each other cordially with all the -ill-humour of old age; that is God's justice: - - Malheur à qui le ciel accorde de longs jours[472]! - -[Sidenote: Madame de Houdetot.] - -It became difficult to understand certain pages of the _Confessions_ -when one had seen the object of Rousseau's transports. Had Madame de -Houdetot kept the letters which Jean Jacques wrote to her, and which he -says were more brilliant than those in the _Nouvelle Héloïse?_ It is -believed that she made a sacrifice of them to Saint-Lambert. - -When nearly eighty years of age, Madame de Houdetot still cried in -agreeable verses: - - Et l'amour me console! - Rien ne pourra me consoler de lui[473]. - -She never went to bed without striking the floor three times with her -slipper and saying, "Good-night, dear!" to the late author of the -_Saisons._ That was what the philosophy of the eighteenth century -amounted to in 1803. - -The society of Madame de Houdetot, Diderot, Saint-Lambert, Rousseau, -Grimm[474], and Madame d'Épinay rendered the Valley of Montmorency -insupportable to me, and though, with regard to facts, I am very glad -that a relic of the Voltairean times should have come under my notice, -I do not regret those times. I have lately again seen the house in -which Madame de Houdetot used to live at Sannois; it is now a mere -empty shell, reduced to the four walls. A deserted hearth is always -interesting; but what can we gather from hearth-stones by whose side -beauty has never sat, nor the mother of a family, nor religion, and -whose ashes, if they were not dispersed, would carry back the memory -only to days which were capable of nought save destruction? - -* - -A piracy of the _Génie du Christianisme_ at Avignon took me to the -south of France in the month of October 1802. I knew only my poor -Brittany and the northern provinces through which I had passed when -leaving my country. I was about to see the sun of Provence, the sky -which was to give me a fore-taste of Italy and Greece, towards -which my instinct and my muse alike urged me. I was in a happy mood; -my reputation made life seem light to me: there are many dreams -in the first intoxication of fame, and one's eyes at first become -rapturously filled with the rising light; but should that light become -extinguished, it leaves you in the dark: if it last, the habit of -seeing it soon renders you unmindful of it. - -Lyons pleased me extremely. I renewed my acquaintance with those works -of the Romans which I had not seen since the day when I read some -sheets of _Atala_ out of my knapsack in the amphitheatre at Trèves. -Sailing-boats crossed from one bank of the Saône to the other, carrying -a light at night; they were steered by women; a sailor lass of eighteen -who took me on board, at each turn of the helm, adjusted a nosegay -of flowers badly fastened to her hat. I was awakened in the morning -by the sound of bells. The convents poised upon the slopes seemed to -have recovered their solitary inmates. The son of M. Ballanche[475], -the owner, after M. Migneret, of the _Génie du Christianisme_, had -become my host: he has become my friend. Who does not know to-day the -Christian philosopher whose writings glow with that placid clearness on -which one loves to fix his eyes, as on the ray of a friendly star in -the sky? - -On the 27th of October the post-barge which was taking me to Avignon -was obliged to stop at Tain, owing to a storm. I thought myself -in America: the Rhone reminded me of my great wild rivers. I was -put into a little river-side inn; a conscript was standing at the -chimney-corner; he had his sack on his back, and was on his way to join -the Army of Italy. I wrote with the bellows of the chimney for a table, -opposite the landlady, who sat silently before me and showed her regard -for the traveller by preventing the dog and cat from making a noise. -What I was writing was an article which I had almost finished while -going down the Rhone, and which related to M. de Bonald's _Législation -primitive._ I foresaw what has since come to pass: - - "French literature," I said, "is about to change its aspect; - with the Revolution new thoughts will come into being, new - views of men and things. It is easy to foresee that our - writers will become divided. Some will strive to leave the - beaten paths; others will try to copy the old models, while - nevertheless displaying them in a new light. It is very - probable that the latter will end by getting the better - of their adversaries, because, in leaning upon the great - traditions and the great men, they will have surer guides and - more fruitful documents." - -The lines ending my travelling criticism are history; my mind was -beginning to move with my century: - - "The author of this article," I said, "cannot resist an - image drawn from the circumstances in which he finds himself - placed. At the very moment at which he is writing these - concluding words he is descending one of the greatest rivers - of France. On two opposite mountains stand two ruined towers; - at the top of those towers are fastened little bells, - which the mountaineers ring as we pass. This river, those - mountains, those sounds, those Gothic monuments, divert the - eyes of the spectators for a moment; but not one stops to go - whither the bell-tower calls him. Thus the men who to-day - preach morality and religion in vain give the signal from - the top of their ruins to those whom the torrent of the age - carries with it; the traveller is amazed at the grandeur of - the ruins, at the sweetness of the sounds that issue from - them, at the majesty of the memories that rise above them, - but he does not interrupt his journey, and at the first turn - in the stream all is forgotten[476]." - -[Sidenote: Avignon.] - -When I arrived at Avignon, on the eve of All Saints' Day, a child -hawking books offered them to me: I then and there bought three -different pirated editions of a little novel called _Atala_. By going -from one bookseller to the other, I unearthed the pirate, to whom I was -not known. He sold me the four volumes of the _Génie du Christianisme_ -at the reasonable price of nine francs per copy, and praised both book -and author highly to me. He lived in a fine house standing in its own -grounds. I thought I had made a great discovery: after four-and-twenty -hours, I grew weary of following fortune, and made terms for next to -nothing with the robber. - -I saw Madame de Janson, a little wizened, white-haired, determined -woman, who struggled with the Rhone for her estate, exchanged -musket-shots with the inhabitants of the banks, and defended herself -against the years. - -Avignon reminded me of my fellow-countryman. Du Guesclin was good for -more than Bonaparte, because he rescued France from her conquerors. On -reaching the city of the Popes with the adventurers whom his glory was -leading to Spain, he said to the provost sent by the Pontiff to meet -him: - -* - -"'Brother, do not deceive me: whence comes that treasure? Has the Pope -taken it from his treasure?' - -"And he answered no, and that the commons of Avignon had paid it, each -his portion. - -"'Then, provost,' said Bertrand, 'I promise you that we will not take -a farthing of it as we live, and wish that this money got together -be restored to them that paid it, and tell the Pope that he have it -restored to them; for if I knew that any other were done, it would lie -heavy on me; and had I crossed the sea, yet would I return thence.' - -"Thus was Bertrand paid with the Pope's money, and his folk absolved -again, and the said first absolution again confirmed." - -* - -In former days Avignon was considered the commencement of a Transalpine -journey: it was the entrance to Italy. The geographies say: - -"The Rhone belongs to the King, but the City of Avignon is watered by a -branch of the river, the Sorgue, which belongs to the Pope." - -Is the Pope very certain of long preserving the ownership of the Tiber? -At Avignon they used to visit the Celestine[477] monastery. Good King -René[478], who reduced the taxes when the tramontane wind blew, had -painted a skeleton in one of the halls of the Celestine monastery: it -was that of a woman of great beauty whom he had loved[479]. - -* - -I looked for the Palace of the Popes and was shown the _ice-house_: -the Revolution has done away with celebrated places; the memories -of the past are obliged to shoot up through it and to reblossom over -dead bones[480]. Alas, the groans of the victims die soon after them! -They scarcely reach some echo that causes them to survive a little -while after the voice from which they issued is extinguished for ever. -But, while the cry of sorrow was expiring on the banks of the Rhone, -one heard in the distance the sound of Petrarch's lute: a solitary -_canzone_, escaping from the tomb, continued to charm Vaucluse[481] -with an immortal melancholy and the love sorrows of olden time. - -Alain Chartier[482] had come from Bayeux to be buried at Avignon in the -Church of St. Anthony. He had written the _Belle Dame sans mercy_, and -the kiss of Margaret of Scotland[483] made him live. - -[Sidenote: Marseilles.] - -From Avignon I went to Marseilles. What is left to be desired by a town -to which Cicero addressed these words, of which the oratorical manner -was imitated by Bossuet: - -"Nor will I forget thee, O Massilia, who in virtue and dignity shouldst -rank not only before Greece, but for aught I know before the whole -world[484]!" - -Tacitus, in the Life of Agricola, also praises Marseilles as combining -the Greek urbanity with the economy of the Latin provinces. Daughter of -Hellas, foundress of Gaul, celebrated by Cicero, captured by Cæsar, is -not that sufficient glory united? I hastened to climb to _Notre Dame de -la Garde_, to admire the sea which the smiling coasts of all the famous -countries of antiquity line with their ruins. The sea, which does not -move, is the source of mythology, even as the ocean, which rises twice -a day, is the abyss to which Jehovah said: - -"Thou shalt go no farther[485]." - -In this same year, 1838, I climbed again to that summit; I saw again -that sea which I now know so well, and at the end of which rose the -Cross and the Tomb victorious. The mistral was blowing; I went into -the fort built by Francis I., where no longer a veteran of the army of -Egypt kept guard, but where stood a conscript destined for Algiers and -lost under the gloomy vaults. Silence reigned in the restored chapel, -while the wind moaned without. The hymn of the Breton sailors to Our -Lady of Succour returned to my mind; you know when and how I have -already quoted that plaint of my early ocean days: - - Je mets ma confiance, - Vierge, en votre secours. - -How many events it had needed to bring me back to the feet of the "Star -of the Sea," to whom I had been vowed in my childhood! When I gazed at -those votive offerings, those paintings of ship-wrecks hung all around -me, it was as though I were reading the story of my life. Virgil places -the Trojan hero beneath the Porches of Carthage, moved at the sight -of a picture representing the burning of Troy, and the genius of the -singer of Hamlet has made use of the soul of the singer of Dido. - -I no longer recognised Marseilles at the foot of that rock once covered -with a forest sung by Lucan: I could no longer lose my way in its long, -wide, straight streets. The harbour was crowded with ships; thirty-six -years ago I should with difficulty have found a "boat," steered by a -descendant of Pytheas[486], to carry me to Cyprus like Joinville[487]: -time rejuvenates cities, reversing its action upon men. I preferred my -old Marseilles, with its memories of the Bérengers[488], the Duke of -Anjou[489], King René, Guise and d'Épernon[490], with the monuments of -Louis XIV. and the virtues of Belsunce[491]: the wrinkles on its brow -pleased me. Perhaps, in regretting the years which it has lost, I but -bewail those which I have found. Marseilles received me graciously, it -is true; but the rival of Athens has grown too young for me. - -If the _Memoirs_ of Alfieri[492] had been published in 1802 I should -not have left Marseilles without visiting the rock from which the poet -used to bathe. That rugged man once succeeded in attaining the charm of -reverie and of expression: - - "After the performance," he writes, "one of my amusements, - at Marseilles, was to bathe almost every evening in the - sea; I had found a very agreeable spot, on a neck of land - situated to the right of the harbour, where, seated on the - sand, with my back leaning against a rock, which prevented - me from being seen from the land side, I could behold - the sky and sea without interruption. Between those two - immensities, embellished by the rays of the setting sun, I - passed delicious hours dreaming of future delights; and there - I might unquestionably have become a poet, could I have given - any language whatever to my thoughts and feelings[493]." - -[Sidenote: Jean Reboul.] - -I returned through Languedoc and Gascony. At Nîmes, the Arena[494] and -the Maison Carrée[495] had not yet been extricated: in the present -year, 1838, I have seen them exhumed. I have also looked up Jean -Reboul[496]. I had my doubts concerning those workmen poets, who are -generally neither poets nor workmen: I owe M. Reboul a reparation. I -found him in his bakery; I spoke to him without knowing whom I was -addressing, failing to distinguish him from his fellow-worshippers of -Ceres. He took my name and said he would go and see if the person for -whom I was asking was there. He returned soon after and introduced -himself: he took me into his shop; we wended our way through a -labyrinth of flour-sacks, and clambered up a sort of ladder into a -little closet resembling the upper room of a wind-mill. There we sat -down and talked. I was as happy as in my garret in London, and happier -than in my ministerial armchair in Paris. M. Reboul drew a manuscript -from a chest of drawers, and read me some powerful verses from a poem -which he is writing on the _Dernier Jour._ I congratulated him on his -religion and his talent[497]. - -I had to take leave of my host, not without wishing him the gardens -of Horace. I would have better loved to see him dream beside the -Cascade at Tivoli than gather the wheat crushed by the wheel above that -cascade. It is true that Sophocles was perhaps a blacksmith in Athens, -and that Plautus, in Rome, was a harbinger of Reboul at Nîmes[498]. - -Between Nîmes and Montpellier, I passed, on my left, Aigues-Mortes, -which I have visited in 1838. This town is still quite intact, with its -towers and its surrounding rampart; it resembles a large ship stranded -on the sands where St. Louis, time and the sea have left it. The -Saint-king gave "usages" and statutes to the town of Aigues-Mortes: - -"He wills that the prison be such that it serve not for the -extermination of the person, but for its safe-keeping; that no -information be granted for mere injurious words; that adultery itself -be not enquired into, except in certain cases; and that he who violates -a maid, _volente vel nolente_, shall not lose his life, nor any of his -members, _sed alio modo puniatur._" - -At Montpellier I again saw the sea, to which I would gladly have -written in the words of the Most Christian King to the Swiss -Confederation: "My trusty ally and well-beloved friend." Scaliger[499] -would have liked to make Montpellier "the nest of his old age." It -received its name from two virgin saints, _Mons puellarum_: hence the -beauty of its women. Montpellier[500], falling before the Cardinal de -Richelieu, witnessed the death of the aristocratic constitution of -France. - -On the road from Montpellier to Narbonne, I had a return to my native -disposition, an attack of my dreaminess. I should have forgotten that -attack if, like certain imaginary invalids, I had not entered the day -of my crisis on a tiny bulletin, the only note of that time which I -have found to aid my memory. This time it was an arid space covered -with fox-gloves that made me forget the world: my eyes glided over -that sea of purple stalks, and encountered at the distance only the -blue chain of the Cantal Mountains. In nature, with the exception -of the sky, the sea and the sun, it is not the immense objects that -inspire me; they give me only a sensation of greatness, which flings -my own littleness distraught and disconsolate at the feet of God. But a -flower which I pick, a stream of water hiding among the rushes, a bird -alternately flying and resting before my eyes lead me on towards all -kinds of dreams. Is it not better to be moved for no definite reason -than to go through life seeking blunted interests, chilled by their -repetition and their number? All is worn out nowadays, even misfortune. - -At Narbonne I reached the Canal des Deux-Mers[501]. Corneille, singing -this work, adds his own greatness to that of Louis XIV.[502] - -[Sidenote: Toulouse.] - -At Toulouse, from the bridge over the Garonne, I could see the line of -the Pyrenees; I was to cross it four years later: our horizons succeed -one another like our days. They offered to show me, in a cave, the -dried body of Fair Paule[503]: blessed are they that have not seen and -have believed! Montmorency[504] had been beheaded in the courtyard of -the town-hall: that head struck off must have been very important, -since they still speak of it after so many other heads have been taken -off? I do not know if, in the history of criminal proceedings, there -exists an eye-witness' evidence which has more clearly established a -man's identity: - - "The fire and smoke which covered him," said Guitaut, - "prevented me from recognising him; but seeing a man who, - after breaking six of our ranks, was still killing soldiers - in the seventh, I thought that it could be only M. de - Montmorency; I knew it for certain when I saw him thrown to - the ground under his dead horse." - -The deserted Church of St. Sernin impressed me by its architecture. -This church is connected with the history of the Albigenses, which the -poem so well translated by M. Fauriel[505] revives: - - "The gallant young count, his father's heir and the light of - his eyes, with the cross and the sword, enter together by - one of the doors. Not a single young girl remains in chamber - or on landing; the inhabitants of the town, great and small, - all come out to gaze upon the count as on a fair and blooming - rose." - -It is to the time of Simon de Montfort[506] that the loss of the -_langue d'Oc_ dates back: - -"Simon, seeing himself lord of so many lands, bestowed them among the -gentle men, both French and others, _atque loci leges dedimus_," say -the eight signatory archbishops and bishops. - -I should have liked to have had time to inquire at Toulouse after one -of my great admirations, Cujas[507], writing, flat on the ground, with -his books spread around him. I do not know whether the memory has -been preserved of his twice-married daughter Suzanne. Constancy had -no great attractions for Suzanne, she set it at naught; but she kept -one of her husbands alive with the same infidelities which caused the -other's death. Cujas was protected by the daughter of Francis I.[508], -Pibrac by the daughter of Henry II.[509]: two Margarets of the blood -of the Valois, the true blood of the Muses. Pibrac[510] is famous -through his quatrains, which have been translated into Persian. I was -perhaps lodged in the house of the president his father. That "good -Lord of Pibrac," according to Montaigne, was "a man of so quaint and -rare wit, of so sound judgment, and of so mild and affable behaviour." -His mind was "so dissonant and different in proportion from our -deplorable corruption, and so farre from agreeing with our tumultuous -stormes[511]." And Pibrac wrote the apology of St. Bartholomew's Night! - -I hurried on without being able to stop: fate threw me back to 1838 -to admire in detail the city of Raimond de Saint-Gilles[512], and to -speak of the new acquaintances I made there: M. de Lavergne[513], a -man of talent, wit, and sense; Mademoiselle Honorine Gasc[514], the -Malibran of the future. The latter reminded me, in my new quality of a -follower of Clémence Isaure[515], of those verses which Chapelle and -Bachaumont[516] wrote in the isle of Ambijoux, near Toulouse: - - Hélas! que l'on serait heureux - Dans ce beau lieu digne d'envie, - Si, toujours aimé de Sylvie, - On pouvait, toujours amoureux, - Avec elle passer sa vie[517]! - -Let Mademoiselle Honorine be on her guard against her beautiful voice! -Talents are "gold of Toulouse:" they bring misfortune. - -[Sidenote: Bordeaux.] - -Bordeaux was as yet scarce rid of its scaffolds and its dastardly -Girondins. All the towns which I saw had the appearance of beautiful -women lately risen from a violent malady, and hardly commencing to -breathe again. In Bordeaux, Louis XIV. had caused the Palais des -Tutelles to be razed, in order to build the Chateau Trompette[518]; -Spon[519] and the lovers of antiquity groaned: - -Pourquoi démolit-on ces colonnes des dieux, -Ouvrage des Césars, monument tutélaire[520]? - -There were but a few remains of the Arena to be seen. Were we to offer -a token of regret to all that falls, life would be too short for our -tears. - -I took ship for Blaye. I saw the castle, then unknown, to which in 1833 -I addressed these words: - -"O captive of Blaye[521], I am sorrow-stricken to be able to do nothing -to forward your present destinies!" - -I travelled towards Rochefort, and went on to Nantes through the Vendée. - -This district bore the mutilations and scars due to its valour, like an -old warrior. Bones bleached by time and ruins blackened by fire met the -gaze. When the Vendeans were on the point of attacking the enemy, they -knelt down to receive the blessing of a priest. Prayers uttered under -arms were not reckoned as weakness, for the Vendean who raised his -sword towards Heaven asked for victory, not for life. - -The diligence in which I found myself interred was full of travellers -who related the rapes and murders with which they had glorified their -lives in the wars of the Vendée. My heart throbbed when, after crossing -the Loire at Nantes, we entered Brittany. I passed by the College of -Rennes, which witnessed the last years of my childhood. I was able to -remain for only four-and-twenty hours with my wife and sisters, and I -returned to Paris. - -* - -I arrived in time for the death of a man who belonged to those superior -names of the second rank in the eighteenth century which, forming a -solid rear-line in society, gave it a certain fulness and consistency. - -I had known M. de La Harpe in 1789: like Flins, he had become smitten -with a great passion for my sister, Madame la Comtesse de Farcy. -He used to come up with three large volumes of his works under his -little arms, quite astounded to find that his glory did not triumph -over the most rebellious hearts. Loud-voiced, and eager in manner, -he thundered against every abuse, ordered an omelette to be made -for him at the ministers' houses when the dinner had not been to his -taste, eating with his fingers, dragging his cuffs in the dishes, -talking philosophical scurrilities to the greatest lords, who doted -on his impertinences; but, when all was said, his was an upright -and enlightened mind, impartial amid all its passions, with a quick -sense for talent, capable of admiration, of shedding tears over fine -poetry or a fine action, and possessing a foundation fit to support -repentance. He was not wanting at the end; I saw him die the death -of a brave Christian, with his taste enlarged by religion, and -retaining no pride except as against impiety, no hatred except that of -"Revolutionary language[522]." - -[Sidenote: Death of M. de La Harpe.] - -On my return from the Emigration, religion had disposed M. de La Harpe -in favour of my works: the illness which attacked him did not prevent -him from working himself; he read me passages from a poem which he was -writing on the Revolution[523]; in it occurred notably some pithy lines -directed against the crimes of the age and the "worthy men" who had -permitted them: - - Mais s'ils ont tout osé, vous avez tout permis: - Plus l'oppresseur est vil, plus l'esclave est infâme[524]. - -Forgetting that he was ill, dressed in a wadded spencer, with a white -cotton night-cap on his head, he recited with all his might; then, -dropping his copy-book, he said in a voice that hardly reached the ear: - -"I can't go on; I feel a grip of iron in my side." - -And if, unfortunately, a maid-servant should happen to pass by, he -would resume his stentorian voice and roar: - -"Go away! Shut the door!" - -I said to him one day: - -"You will live for the good of religion." - -"Ah, yes," he replied, "it would certainly be for God; but He does not -wish it, and I shall die within these few days." - -Falling back into his chair, and drawing his night-cap over his ears, -he expiated his former pride by his present resignation and humility. - -At a dinner at Migneret's, I had heard him speak of himself with -the greatest modesty, declaring that he had done nothing out of -the common, but that he believed that art and the language had not -degenerated in his hands. - -M. de La Harpe quitted this life on the 11th of February 1803; the -author of the _Saisons_ died almost at the same time, fortified with -all the consolations of philosophy, as M. de La Harpe died fortified -with all the consolations of religion: the one was visited by men, the -other by God. - -M. de La Harpe was buried on the 12th of February 1803 in the cemetery -at the Barrière de Vaugirard. The coffin was placed beside the grave -on the little mound of earth that was soon to cover it, and M. de -Fontanes delivered a funeral oration. It was a dismal scene: whirling -snow-flakes fell from the clouds and covered the pall with white, while -the wind blew it upwards, to allow the last words of friendship to -reach the ears of death. The cemetery has been destroyed and M. de La -Harpe disinterred: there was hardly anything left of his poor ashes. -M. de La Harpe had been married under the Directory, and had not been -happy with his beautiful wife; she had been seized with loathing at the -sight of him, and had persisted in refusing him any of his rights[525]. - -For the rest, M. de La Harpe, like everything else, had diminished -by the side of the Revolution, which was ever growing in dimensions: -reputations hastily shrank away before the representative of that -Revolution, even as dangers lost their power before him. - -* - -While we were engrossed with vulgar life and death, the gigantic -progress of the world was being realized; the Man of the Time was -taking the head of the table at the banquet of the human race. Amid -vast commotions, precursors of the universal displacement, I had landed -at Calais to bear my part in the general action, within the limits set -to each soldier. I arrived, in the first year of the century, at the -camp where Bonaparte was beating the destinies to arms: soon after, he -became First Consul for life. - -After the adoption of the Concordat by the Legislative Body in 1802, -Lucien, then Minister of the Interior, gave an entertainment to his -brother; I was invited, as having rallied the Christian forces and led -them back to the charge. I was in the gallery when Napoleon entered: -he struck me pleasantly; I had never seen him except at a distance. -His smile was beautiful and caressing; his eyes were admirable, owing -especially to the manner in which they were placed beneath his forehead -and framed in his eyebrows. There was as yet no charlatanism in his -glance, nothing theatrical or affected. The _Génie du Christianisme_, -which was then making a great stir, had worked upon Napoleon. A -prodigious imagination animated that so frigid politician: he would -not have been what he was, if the Muse had not been there; reason -but carried out the poet's ideas. All those men who lead the large -life are always a compound of two natures, for they must be capable -of inspiration and of action: one conceives the plan, the other -accomplishes it. - -[Sidenote: The First Consul.] - -Bonaparte saw me and recognised me, I know not by what. When he turned -in my direction no one knew whom he was making for; the ranks opened -successively; each hoped that the Consul would stop at him; he appeared -to feel a certain impatience with those misconceptions. I hid behind my -neighbours; suddenly Bonaparte raised his voice and said: - -"Monsieur de Chateaubriand!" - -I then remained standing out alone, for the crowd withdrew, and soon -formed again in a circle around the speakers. Bonaparte addressed -me with simplicity: without paying me any compliments, without idle -questions, without preamble, he spoke to me at once of Egypt and the -Arabs, as though I had been one of his intimates, and as though he were -only continuing a conversation already commenced between us. - -"I was always much impressed," he said, "when I saw the sheiks fall on -their knees in the middle of the desert, turn towards the East, and -touch the sand with their foreheads. What was that unknown thing which -they worshipped in the East?" - -Bonaparte interrupted himself and broached another idea without any -transition: - -"Christianity! Have not the ideologists tried to make a system of -astronomy of it? And if that should be so, do they think they can -persuade me that Christianity is small? If Christianity is the allegory -of the movement of the spheres, the geometry of the stars, the -free-thinkers may say what they please: in spite of themselves, they -have still left tolerable greatness to 'the infamous thing.'" - -Incontinently Bonaparte moved away. As with Job, in my night "a spirit -passed before me, the hair of my flesh stood up. There stood one whose -countenance I knew not ... and I heard the voice as it were of a -gentle wind[526]." - -My days have been but a series of visions; Hell and Heaven have -continually opened up beneath my feet or over my head, without giving -me time to explore their darkness or their light. One single time, on -the shore of the two worlds, I met the man of the last and the man of -the new century: Washington and Napoleon. I conversed for a moment with -each; both sent me back to solitude: the first through a kindly wish, -the second through a crime. - -I observed that, when going round among the crowd, Bonaparte cast -deeper glances on me than those which he had fixed upon me while -talking to me. I too followed him with my eyes: - - Chi è quel grande che non par che curi - L'incendio[527]? - -In consequence of this interview, Bonaparte thought of me for Rome: -he had decided at a glance where and how I could be of use to him. It -mattered little to him that I had no experience of public affairs, that -I was entirely unacquainted with practical diplomacy; he believed that -a given mind always understands and has no need of apprenticeship. He -was a great discoverer of men: but he wished them to possess talent -only for him, and even then on condition that that talent was not much -discussed; jealous of every renown, he regarded it as an usurpation -over his own: there was to be none save Napoleon in the universe. - -Fontanes and Madame Bacciochi spoke to me of the pleasure the Consul -had found in "my conversation:" I had not opened my mouth; that meant -that Bonaparte was pleased with himself. They urged me to avail myself -of fortune. The idea of being anything had never occurred to me; I -flatly refused. Then they persuaded an authority to speak whom it was -difficult for me to resist. - -The Abbé Émery[528], the superior of the Seminary of Saint-Sulpice, -came and entreated me, in the name of the clergy, to accept, for -the good of religion, the post of first secretary to the embassy -which Bonaparte had reserved for his uncle, Cardinal Fesch[529]. He -gave me to understand that the cardinal's intelligence was not very -remarkable and that I should soon find myself the master of affairs. -A singular chance had brought me into connection with the Abbé Émery: -I had crossed to the United States with the Abbé Nagat and several -seminarists, as you know. That remembrance of my obscurity, my youth, -my life as a traveller, which reflected itself in my public life, -seized hold of my imagination and my heart. The Abbé Émery, who was -esteemed by Bonaparte, was subtle by nature and by reason of his cloth -and of the Revolution; but he used that threefold subtlety only on -behalf of his true merit; ambitious only to do good, he acted only in -the most prosperous circle of a seminary. Circumspect as he was in his -actions and words, it would have been superfluous to do violence to the -Abbé Émery, for he always held his life at your disposal, in exchange -for his will, which he never surrendered: his strength lay in waiting -for you, seated on his tomb. - -[Sidenote: I am sent to Rome.] - -He failed in his first attempt; he returned to the charge, and his -patience ended by persuading me. I accepted the place which he had -been commissioned to offer me, without being in the smallest degree -convinced of my usefulness in the post to which I was called: I am no -good at all in the second rank. I might perhaps have again withdrawn, -if the thought of Madame de Beaumont had not come to put an end to my -scruples. M. de Montmorin's daughter was dying; she had been told that -the climate of Italy would be favourable to her; if I went to Rome she -would make up her mind to cross the Alps. I sacrificed myself to the -hope of saving her. Madame de Chateaubriand prepared to come to join -me; M. Joubert spoke of accompanying her; and Madame de Beaumont set -out for Mont-Dore[530], in order afterwards to complete her cure on the -banks of the Tiber. - -M. de Talleyrand[531] occupied the Ministry for Foreign Affairs; he -sent me my nomination. I dined with him: he has always maintained in -my mind the place which he occupied at our first meeting. For the -rest, his fine manners made a contrast with those of the ruffians of -his environment; his profligacy assumed an astounding importance: in -the eyes of a brutal gang, moral corruption seemed genius, frivolity -profundity. The Revolution was over-modest; it did not sufficiently -appreciate its superiority: it is not the same thing to stand above -crimes or beneath them. - -I saw the ecclesiastics attached to the cardinal's person; I remarked -the gay Abbé de Bonnevie[532]: formerly, in his capacity as chaplain -to the Army of the Princes, he had taken part in the retreat from -Verdun; he had also been grand-vicar to the Bishop of Châlons, M. de -Clermont-Tonnerre[533], who set out behind us in order to claim a -pension from the Holy See, in his quality as a "Chiaramonte[534]." So -soon as my preparations were completed I started: I was to precede -Napoleon's uncle to Rome. - -* - -In Lyons I again saw my friend M. Ballanche. I witnessed the revival of -Corpus Christi: I felt as though I had in some way contributed to those -posies of flowers, to that joy of Heaven which I had called back to -earth. - -I continued my journey, finding a cordial welcome wherever I went: -my name was linked with the restoration of the altars. The keenest -pleasure which I have experienced has been to feel myself honoured in -France and abroad with marks of serious interest. It has sometimes -happened that, while resting in a village inn, I saw a father and -mother enter with their son: they told me they were bringing their -child to thank me. Was it self-conceit that then gave me the pleasure -of which I speak? How did it affect my vanity that lowly and honest -people should give me a token of their satisfaction on the high-road, -in a place where none overheard them? What did touch me, at least I -venture to think so, was that I had done some little good, consoled -a few distressed, caused the hope to revive in a mother's yearnings -of bringing up a Christian son: that is to say, a submissive son, -respectful, attached to his parents. Should I have tasted this pure joy -if I had written a book which morals or religion would have had cause -to bewail? - -[Sidenote: My journey to Rome.] - -The road is somewhat dreary on leaving Lyons: after leaving the -Tour-du-Pin, as far as Pont-de-Beauvoisin, it is shady and wooded. At -Chambéry, where Bayard's chivalrous soul showed itself so fine, a man -was welcomed by a woman, and by way of payment for the hospitality -received at her hands, thought himself philosophically obliged to -dishonour her. That is the danger of literature: the desire to make -a stir gets the better of generous sentiment; if Rousseau had never -become a celebrated writer, he would have buried in the valleys of -Savoy the frailties of the woman who had fed him; he would have -sacrificed himself to the very faults of his friend; he would have -relieved her in her old age, instead of contenting himself with giving -her a snuff-box and running away. Ah, may the voice of friendship -betrayed never be raised against our tombstones! - -After passing Chambéry, one comes to the stream of the Isère. On every -hand, in the valleys, one meets with road-side crosses and lady-statues -fixed in the trunks of the pine-trees. The little churches, surrounded -with trees, form a touching contrast with the great mountains. When the -winter whirlwinds come sweeping down from those ice-laden summits, the -Savoyard takes shelter in his rustic temple and prays. - -The valleys which one enters above Montmélian are hemmed by mountains -of different shapes, sometimes half bare, sometimes clad in forests. -Aiguebelle seems to shut in the Alps; but, on turning round an isolated -rock, fallen in the middle of the road, you catch sight of new valleys -attached to the course of the Arc. The mountains on either side stand -erect; their flanks become perpendicular; their barren summits begin to -display a few glaciers: torrents come rushing down to swell the Arc, -which runs madly along. Amid this tumult of the waters, one remarks -a light cascade which falls with infinite grace beneath a curtain of -willows. - -After crossing Saint-Jean-de-Maurienne I arrived towards sunset at -Saint-Michel, and found no horses. I was obliged to stop, and went for -a stroll outside the village. The air became transparent on the ridge -of the mountains; their denticulation was outlined with extraordinary -clearness, while a great darkness, issuing from their feet, rose -towards their crests. The note of the nightingale was heard below, the -cry of the eagle above; the blossoming lote-tree stood in the valley, -the white snow on the mountain. A castle, popularly believed to be the -work of the Carthaginians, showed upon the sheer-cut redan. There, -incorporated with the rock, had stood one man's hatred, overcoming all -obstacles. The vengeance of the human race weighed down upon a free -people, which was able to build its greatness only with the slavery and -blood of the rest of the world. - -I left at day-break and arrived at about two o'clock in the afternoon -at Lans-le-Bourg, at the foot of Mont Cenis. On entering the village, -I saw a peasant who held an eaglet by the feet; a pitiless band struck -the young king, insulted his youthful weakness and fallen majesty; the -father and mother of the noble orphan had been killed. They offered -to sell him to me: he died of the ill-treatment to which he had been -subjected before I was able to deliver him. I then remembered poor -little Louis XVII.; to-day I think of Henry V.: what swiftness of -downfall and misfortune! - -Here one begins to ascend Mont Cenis and leave the little River Arc, -which brings you to the foot of the mountain. On the other side of Mont -Cenis, the Dora opens the entrance of Italy to you. Rivers are not only -"moving high-roads," as Pascal calls them, but they also mark the road -for men. - -Standing for the first time on the summit of the Alps, I was seized -with a strange emotion. I was like the lark which had just crossed -the frozen upland, and which, after singing its little burden of the -plains, had alighted amid the snows, instead of dropping down upon the -harvest. The stanzas with which those mountains inspired me in 1822 -reflect with some accuracy my feeling on the same spot in 1803: - - Alpes, vous n'avez point subi mes destinées! - Le temps ne vous peut rien; - Vos fronts légèrement ont porté les années - Qui pèsent sur le mien. - - Pour la première fois, quand, rempli d'espérance, - Je franchis vos remparts, - Ainsi que l'horizon, un avenir immense - S'ouvrait à mes regards. - - L'Italie à mes pieds, et devant moi le monde[535]! - -That world, have I really penetrated into it? Christopher Columbus saw -an apparition which showed him the land of his dreams before he had -discovered it; Vasco de Gama met the giant of the storms on his road: -which of those two great men presaged my future? What I should have -loved above all would have been a life glorious through a brilliant -result, and obscure through its destiny. Do you know which were the -first European ashes to rest in America? They were those of Bjorn the -Scandinavian: he died on landing at Winland, and was buried by his -companions on a promontory. Who knows that[536]? Who knows of him whose -sail preceded the vessel of the Genoese pilot to the New World? Bjorn -sleeps on the point of an unknown cape, and since a thousand years his -name has been handed down to us only by the sagas of the poets, in a -language no longer spoken. - -* - -[Sidenote: Italy.] - -I had begun my wanderings in an opposite direction to that of other -travellers. The old forests of America had displayed themselves to -me before the old cities of Europe. I happened upon the latter when -they were at the same time renewing their youth and dying in a fresh -revolution. Milan was occupied by our troops; they were completing the -demolition of the castle, that witness to the wars of the Middle Ages. - -The French army was settling in the plains of Lombardy as a military -colony. Guarded here and there by their comrades on sentry, these -strangers from Gaul, with forage-caps on their heads and sabres by way -of reaping-hooks over their round jackets, presented the appearance -of gay and eager harvesters. They moved stones, rolled guns, drove -waggons, ran up sheds and huts of brushwood. Horses pranced, curveted, -reared among the crowd, like dogs fawning on their masters. Italian -women sold fruit on their flat baskets at the market of that armed -fair; our soldiers made them presents of their pipes and steels, saying -to them as the ancient barbarians, their ancestors, said to their -beloved: - -"I, Fotrad, son of Eupert, of the race of the Franks, give to -thee, Helgine, my dear wife, in honour of thy beauty (_in honore -pulchritudinis tuæ_), my dwelling in the quarter of the Pines[537]." - -We are curious enemies: we are at first considered rather insolent, -rather too gay, too restless; but we have no sooner turned our backs -than we are regretted. Lively, witty, intelligent, the French soldier -mixes in the occupations of the inhabitant on whom he is billeted: he -draws water at the well, as Moses did for the daughters of Madian, -drives away the shepherds, takes the lambs to the washing-place, chops -the wood, lights the fire, watches the pot, carries the baby in his -arms, or sends it to sleep in its cradle. His good humour and activity -put life into everything; one grows to look upon him as a conscript of -the family. Does the drum beat? The lodger runs to his musket, leaves -his host's daughters weeping on the threshold, and quits the cabin of -which he will never think again until he is admitted to the Invalides. - -On my passage through Milan, a great people aroused was for a moment -opening its eyes. Italy was recovering from her sleep, and remembering -her genius as it were a heavenly dream: useful to our reviving -country, she brought to the shabbiness of our poverty the grandeur -of the Transalpine nature, nurtured as she was, that Ausonia, on the -master-pieces of the arts and the lofty reminiscences of the famous -motherland. Austria has come; she has again laid her cloak of lead -over the Italians; she has forced them back into their coffin. Rome -has re-entered her ruins, Venice her sea. Venice sank down, while -beautifying the sky with her last smile; she set all charming in her -waves, like a star doomed to rise no more. - -General Murat was in command at Milan. I had a letter for him from -Madame Bacciochi. I spent the day with the aides-de-camp; these were -not so poor as my comrades before Thionville. French politeness -reappeared under arms; it was bent upon showing that it still belonged -to the days of Lautrec[538]. - -I dined in state, on the 23rd of June, with M. de Melzi[539], on the -occasion of the christening of a son of General Murat[540]. M. de -Melzi had known my brother; the manners of the Vice-President of the -Cisalpine Republic were distinguished; his household resembled that of -a prince who had never been anything else. He treated me politely and -coldly; he found me in exactly the same disposition as himself. - -[Sidenote: First glimpses of Rome.] - -I reached my destination on the evening of the 27th of June, the day -before the eve of St. Peter's Day[541]. The Prince of Apostles was -awaiting me, even as my indigent patron[542] received me since at -Jerusalem. I had followed the road of Florence, Siena, and Radicofani. -I hastened to go to call upon M. Cacault[543], whom Cardinal Fesch was -succeeding, while I was replacing M. Artaud[544]. - -On the 28th of June, I ran about all day, and cast a first glance upon -the Coliseum, the Pantheon, the Trajan Column, and the Castle of St. -Angelo. In the evening, M. Artaud took me to a ball at a house in the -neighbourhood of the Piazza San-Pietro. One saw the fiery girandole of -the dome of Michael Angelo in between the whirling waltzes spinning -before the open windows; the rockets of the fireworks on the Molo -d'Adriano spread out brilliantly at Sant' Onofrio, over Tasso's tomb: -silence, solitude and night filled the Roman Campagna. - -The next day, I assisted at the St. Peter's Mass. Pius VII.[545], pale, -sad and religious, was the real pontiff of tribulations. Two days later -I was presented to His Holiness: he made me sit beside him. A volume -of the _Génie du Christianisme_ lay open, in an obliging fashion, upon -his table. Cardinal Consalvi[546], supple and firm, gently and politely -resistant, was the living embodiment of the old Roman policy, minus the -faith of those days and plus the tolerance of the century. - -When going through the Vatican, I stopped to contemplate those -staircases which one can ascend on mule-back, those sloping galleries -folding one upon the other, adorned with master-pieces, along which -the popes of old used to pass with all their pomp, those _loggie_ -decorated by so many immortal artists, admired by so many illustrious -men, Petrarch, Tasso, Ariosto, Montaigne, Milton, Montesquieu, and -queens and kings, mighty or fallen, and a whole people of pilgrims from -the four quarters of the globe: all that now without movement or sound; -a theatre whose deserted tiers, open to solitude alone, are scarce -visited by a ray of the sun. - -I had been advised to take a walk by moonlight: from the top of the -Trinità-del-Monte, the distant buildings looked like a painter's -sketches or like softened coast-lines seen from the deck of a ship at -sea. The orb of night, that globe supposed to be an extinct world, -turned its pale deserts above the deserts of Rome; it cast its light -upon streets without inhabitants, closes, squares, gardens where none -passed, monasteries where the voices of the cenobites were no longer -heard, cloisters as mute and desolate as the porticoes of the Coliseum. - -What happened, eighteen centuries ago, at this very hour and in this -very spot? What men have here crossed the shadow of those obelisks, -after that shadow had ceased to fall upon the sands of Egypt? Not -only is Ancient Italy no more, but the Italy of the Middle Ages has -disappeared. Nevertheless, traces of the two Italies still linger in -the Eternal City: where modern Rome shows its St. Peter's and its -master-pieces, ancient Rome boasts its Pantheon and its remains; -where, on the one hand, the consuls walked down from the Capitol, on -the other, the pontiffs issued from the Vatican. The Tiber separates -the two glories: seated in the same dust, pagan Rome sinks deeper -and deeper into its tombs, and Christian Rome glides slowly into its -catacombs. - -* - -Cardinal Fesch had hired the Palazzo Lancelotti, not far from the -Tiber: I have since seen the Principessa Lancelotti there, in 1828. -The top floor of the palace was allotted to me; when I entered, so -large a number of fleas hopped on to my legs that my white trousers -were quite black with them. The Abbé de Bonnevie and I did the best -we could to get our lodging washed down. I had a feeling as though I -had returned to my kennel in the New Road; this memory of my poverty -was not altogether unpleasant. Once settled in this diplomatic corner, -I began to deliver pass-ports and to busy myself with functions of -similar importance. My handwriting was an obstacle to my talents, and -Cardinal Fesch shrugged his shoulders whenever he saw my signature. As -I had almost nothing to do in my aerial chamber, I looked across the -roofs at some washing-girls in a neighbouring house, who made signs to -me; a future opera-singer, practising her voice, persecuted me with her -everlasting _solfeggio_; I was happy when some funeral passed by for a -change! From my lofty window I saw, in the abyss of the street below, -the convoy of a young mother: she was carried, her face uncovered, -between two files of white pilgrims; her new-born babe, dead too and -crowned with flowers, lay at her feet. - -[Sidenote: My work at the embassy.] - -I committed a great mistake: I very innocently believed it my duty to -call upon illustrious personages; I coolly went and paid the tribute of -my respects to the ex-King of Sardinia[547]. This unusual proceeding -caused a terrible hubbub; the diplomatists all drew themselves up. - -"He is lost! he is lost!" whispered all the train-bearers and -_attachés_, with the charitable pleasure which men take in the mishaps -of any of their fellow-creatures. No diplomatic dunce but thought -himself superior to me by the full height of his stupidity. Every -one hoped for my fall, notwithstanding that I was nobody and counted -as nobody; no matter, it was some one who fell, and that is always -agreeable. I, in my simplicity, had no notion of my crime, nor, as ever -since, would I have given a straw for any place whatever. Kings, to -whom I was believed to attach so great an importance, had in my eyes -only that of misfortune. My shocking blunders were reported from Rome -to Paris: luckily I had to do with Bonaparte; what should have been my -ruin saved me. - -However, if at once and at the first leap to become First Secretary -of Embassy under a prince of the Church, an uncle of Napoleon, seemed -something, it was nevertheless as though I had been a copying-clerk in -a prefect's office. In the contests that were at hand, I might have -found work; but I was initiated into no mysteries. I was perfectly -satisfied to be set to the litigious business of the _chancellerie_: -but what was the use of wasting my time over details within the -capacity of all the clerks? - -On returning from my long walks and my rambles along the Tiber, all -that I found to interest me was the cardinal's parsimonious worrying, -the heraldic boasting of the Bishop of Châlons, and the incredible -lying of the future Bishop of Morocco[548]. The Abbé Guillon, taking -advantage of a similarity between his name and one almost identical -in sound, pretended that he was the man who, after escaping by a -miracle from the massacre at the Carmes, gave absolution to Madame de -Lamballe[549] at the Force. He bragged that he had been the author of -Robespierre's speech to the Supreme Being. I bet one day that I would -make him say that he had been to Russia: he did not quite agree to -this, but he modestly confessed that he had spent a few months in St. -Petersburg. - -M. de La Maisonfort[550], a man of intelligence, then in hiding, -applied to me for assistance, and soon M. Bertin the Elder[551], -proprietor of the _Débats_, helped me with his friendly offices in a -painful circumstance. Exiled to the island of Elba by the man who, when -himself returned from Elba, drove him to Ghent, M. Bertin, in 1803, had -obtained from the Republican M. Briot[552], whom I have known, leave -to complete his exile in Italy. With him I visited the ruins of Rome, -and was present at the death of Madame de Beaumont: two things which -have connected his life with mine. A refined critic, he gave me, as -did his brother, excellent advice about my works. Had he been elected -to Parliament, he would have shown a real talent for oratory. He had -long been a Legitimist, had undergone the trial of imprisonment in the -Temple and transportation to Elba, and his principles have in reality -remained the same. I will be true to the companion of my sad days; it -would be paying too high a price for all the political opinions of the -world to sacrifice one hour of sincere friendship: it is enough that -my opinions will never vary, and that I shall remain attached to my -memories. - -[Sidenote: The Princesse Borghèse.] - -About the middle of my stay in Rome, the Princesse Borghèse[553] -arrived; I had some shoes to deliver to her from Paris. I was -presented to her; she made her toilet in my presence; the slippers -which she put on her young and pretty feet were but for a moment to -tread this ancient soil. - -At last a sorrow came to give me occupation: we can always rely upon -that resource. - -* - -At the time of my departure from France we had greatly blinded -ourselves regarding Madame de Beaumont's condition; she cried much, -and her will has proved that she believed herself to be condemned. -Nevertheless her friends, refraining from communicating their fears -to one another, sought to console each other; they believed in the -miraculous powers of the waters, to be perfected later by the Italian -sun; they separated and took different roads; appointments were made in -Rome. - -Fragments written by Madame de Beaumont in Paris, at Mont-Dore, in -Rome, and discovered among her papers, display her state of mind: - - "PARIS. - - "For some years past my health has been perceptibly - declining. Symptoms which I thought to be the signal for - departure have supervened before I am ready to depart. The - illusions increase as the illness progresses. I have seen - many examples of that singular weakness, and I perceive that - they will avail me nothing. Already I find myself taking - remedies which are as irksome as they are insignificant, and - I shall doubtless have no greater strength to protect myself - against the cruel remedies with which they never fail to - martyrize those condemned to die of consumption. Like the - others, I shall abandon myself to hope: to hope! Can I, then, - wish to live? My past life has been a series of misfortunes, - my present life is full of excitements and disturbances: - peace of mind has fled from me for ever. My death would be a - momentary sorrow to a few, a boon to others, and the greatest - of boons to myself. - - "This 21st of Floréal, 10 May, is the anniversary of the - death of my mother and brother: - - Je péris la dernière et la plus misérable[554]! - - [Sidenote: Illness of madame de Beaumont.] - - "Oh, why have I not the courage to die? This illness, - which I was almost weak enough to dread, has subsided, and - perhaps I am condemned still to live long; it seems to me, - nevertheless, that I would gladly die: - - Mes jours ne valent pas qu'il m'en coûte un soupir[555]. - - "None has more cause than I to complain of nature: by - refusing me everything, it has given me the sense of all - I lack. At every moment I feel the weight of the complete - mediocrity to which I am condemned. I know that self-content - and happiness are often the price of this mediocrity of which - I complain so bitterly; but by not adding to it the gift of - illusion, nature, in my case, has turned it into a torture. - I am like a fallen creature who cannot forget what he has - lost, and who has not the force to recover it. That absolute - lack of illusion, and hence of enthusiasm, is the cause of my - unhappiness in a thousand ways. I judge myself as a stranger - might do, and I see my friends as they are. My only value - lies in an extreme kindness of heart, which is not active - enough to command appreciation, nor to be of any real use, - and which loses all its charm owing to the impatience of my - character: my suffering from the misfortunes of others is - greater than my power to relieve them. Nevertheless, I owe to - it the few real joys that have occurred in my life; I owe to - it especially my ignorance of envy, the common attribute of - conscious mediocrity." - - "MONT DORE. - - "I had intended to enter into a few details concerning - myself, but _ennui_ causes the pen to drop from my fingers. - - "All the bitterness and painfulness of my position would - change to happiness if I were sure that I had but a few - months to live. - - "Even if I had the strength myself to end my sorrows in - the only possible way, I should not exert it: it would - be defeating my own intention, showing the measure of my - suffering, and leaving too grievous a wound in the heart - which I have deemed worthy to sustain me in my trials. - - "I 'beseech myself in tears' to take a step which is as - rigorous as it is inevitable. Charlotte Corday says that - 'every act of self-sacrifice bestows more pleasure in the - execution than it has cost pain in the conception;' but her - death was near at hand, and I may still live long. What will - become of me? Where can I hide? What tomb shall I choose? How - can I shut out hope? What power can block up the door? - - "To go away in silence, to court oblivion, to bury myself - for ever, that is the duty laid upon me which I hope to have - the courage to fulfill. If the cup is too bitter, once I am - forgotten, nothing can compel me to empty it to the dregs, - and who knows but my life may, after all, not be so long as I - fear. - - "If I had decided upon the place of my retirement, I believe - I should be more calm; but the difficulty of the moment adds - to the difficulties that arise from my weakness, and it - requires something supernatural to act against one's self - with vigour, to treat one's self as harshly as a violent and - cruel enemy could do." - - "ROME, 28 _October._ - - "During the past ten months I have never ceased to suffer. - During the last six, all the symptoms of consumption, and - some in the last degree: I lack only the illusions, and maybe - I have some!" - -M. Joubert, alarmed at this desire for death which was torturing Madame -de Beaumont, addressed these words to her in his _Pensées_: - - "Love life and respect it, if not for its own sake, at least - for that of your friends. In whatever state your own may - be, I shall always prefer to know that you are occupied in - spinning it out rather than in tearing it to pieces." - -At the same time my sister was writing to Madame de Beaumont. I have -the correspondence, which death placed in my hands. The poetry of the -ancients pictures one of the Nereids as a flower floating on the deep; -Lucile was that flower. In comparing her letters with the fragments -just quoted, one is struck by the similarity of heart-heaviness -expressed in the different language of those unhappy angels. When I -think that I have lived in the company of such minds as those, I am -surprised at my own insignificance. My eyes never light without bitter -grief upon those pages written by two superlative women, who vanished -from this earth at a short distance one from the other. - - "LASCARDAIS, 30 _July._ - - "I was so much charmed, madame, at last to receive a letter - from you that I did not allow myself the time to have the - pleasure of reading it through at once: I interrupted its - perusal to go and tell all the inmates of this house that I - had heard from you, without considering that my gladness is - of but little importance here, and that hardly anyone even - knows that I am in correspondence with you. Seeing that I was - surrounded by indifferent faces, I went back to my room, and - determined to be glad by myself. I sat down to finish reading - your letter, and, although I have read it over many times, - in truth, madame, I do not know the whole contents. The joy - which I constantly feel at the sight of this so long desired - letter interferes with the attention which I ought to give to - it. - - [Sidenote: Letters from Lucile.] - - "And so you are going away, madame? Do not, once you have - reached Mont-Dore, forget your health; give it all your care, - I entreat you, with all the fervour and affection of my - heart. My brother has written to me that he hopes to see you - in Italy. Fate and nature alike are pleased to distinguish - him from me in a very favourable manner. But at least I will - not yield to my brother the happiness of loving you: that I - will share with him all my life. Alas, madame, how oppressed - and downcast is my heart! You cannot know the good your - letters do me, the contempt with which they inspire me for my - ills! The idea that you think of me, that you are interested - in me, exalts my courage extraordinarily. Write to me - therefore, madame, so that I may cherish an idea so essential - to me. - - "I have not yet seen M. Chênedollé; I long greatly for - his arrival. I shall be able to tell him of you and of M. - Joubert: that will be a great pleasure to me. Allow me, - madame, once more to urge you to think of your health, the - bad condition of which incessantly afflicts me and occupies - my thoughts. How can you not love yourself? You are so - lovable and so dear to all: have the justice, then, to do - much for yourself. - - "LUCILE." - - "2 _September._ - - "What you tell me, madame, of your health alarms and saddens - me; however, I reassure myself by thinking of your youth and - remembering that, although you are very delicate, you are - full of life. - - "I am disconsolate at your being in a country which you do - not like. I would wish to see you surrounded with objects - calculated to distract and to cheer you. I hope that, when - your health recovers, you will become reconciled to Auvergne: - there is no spot incapable of presenting some beauty to such - eyes as yours. I am now living at Rennes: my loneliness suits - me fairly well. I change my residence frequently, madame, as - you see; it looks much as though I were out of place on the - earth: in reality, it is long since I first began to look - upon myself as one of its superfluous products. I believe, - madame, that I spoke to you of my sorrows and perturbations. - At present, all that is over, and I enjoy an inward peace of - which none has it any longer in his power to rob me. In spite - of my age, having, through circumstances and taste, almost - constantly led a solitary life, I knew nothing whatever, - madame, of the world: I have at last made that disagreeable - acquaintance. Fortunately, reflection came to my aid. I asked - myself in what way that world could be so formidable and - where lay the worth of a world which can never, in evil and - good alike, be aught but an object of pity. Is it not true, - madame, that man's judgment is as shallow as the rest of his - being, as changeable and of an incredulity as great as its - ignorance? All these reasons, good or bad, have enabled me - to fling behind me with ease the fantastic garment in which - I had arrayed myself. I found myself full of sincerity and - strength; I am no longer capable of being troubled. I am - working with all my might to recover possession of my life, - to obtain entire control of it. - - "You must also, madame, believe that I am not too much to - be pitied, since my brother, the best part of myself, is - agreeably placed, and since I have eyes left with which to - admire the marvels of nature, God for my support, and for an - asylum a heart full of peace and gentle memories. If you have - the kindness, madame, to continue to write to me, that will - be a great added happiness to me." - -* - -Mystery of style, a mystery everywhere perceptible, nowhere present; -the revelation of a painfully privileged nature; the ingenuousness of -a girl whom one might imagine to be in her first youth; and the humble -simplicity of a genius unaware of its own power, all breathe out of -these letters, a large number of which I have suppressed. Did Madame -de Sévigné write to Madame de Grignan with a more grateful affection -than Madame de Caud to Madame de Beaumont? "Her tenderness might well -pretend to keep pace with her own." My sister loved my friend with all -the passion of the tomb, for she felt that she was going to die. Lucile -had hardly ever left the neighbourhood of the Rochers[556]; but she was -the daughter of her century and the Sévigné of solitude. - -* - -A letter from M. Ballanche, dated 30 Fructidor, informed me of the -arrival of Madame de Beaumont, who had come from Mont Dore on her -way to Italy. He told me that I need not fear the misfortune which I -dreaded, and that the health of the sufferer seemed to be improving. On -reaching Milan, Madame de Beaumont met M. Bertin, who had been called -there on business: he had the kindness to take charge of the poor -traveller and to escort her to Florence, where I had gone to meet her. -I was shocked at the sight of her. She had but sufficient strength left -to smile. After a few days' rest, we left for Rome, travelling at a -foot-pace, in order to avoid the jolting. Madame de Beaumont received -assiduous attentions everywhere: a charm interested you in this lovable -woman, so suffering and so forlorn. The very maids at the inns gave way -to this sweet commiseration. - -[Sidenote: Mournful days.] - -My feelings may be easily guessed: we have all accompanied friends to -the grave, but they were mute, and no remnant of inexplicable hope came -to render your sorrow more keen. I no longer saw the fine landscape -through which we passed. I had taken the Perugian road: what was Italy -to me? I still thought her climate too severe, and, if the wind blew -ever so little, its breezes seemed storms to me. At Terni, Madame de -Beaumont spoke of going to see the cascade; she made an effort to lean -on my arm, and sat down again, saying: - -"We must leave the waters to flow without us." - -I had hired for her in Rome a lonely house near the Piazza d'Espagna, -at the foot of the Monte Pincio[557]; it had a little garden with -orange-trees growing against the walls, and a court-yard in which stood -a fig-tree. There I set down my dying charge. I had had much difficulty -in procuring this retreat, for there is a prejudice in Rome against -diseases of the chest, which are considered as infectious. - -At that period of the revival of social order, all that had belonged -to the old monarchy was sought after. The Pope sent to inquire after -the daughter of M. de Montmorin; Cardinal Consalvi and the members -of the Sacred College followed His Holiness' example; Cardinal Fesch -himself showed Madame de Beaumont, to the day of her death, marks of -deference and respect which I should not have expected of him. I had -written to M. Joubert of the anxiety with which I was torn before -Madame de Beaumont's arrival: - - "Our friend writes to me from Mont Dore," I said, "letters - that shatter my soul: she says that she feels 'that there - is no more oil in the lamp;' she speaks of 'the last throbs - of her heart.' Why was she left alone on this journey? Why - did you not write to her? What will become of us if we lose - her? Who will console us for her? We realize the value of our - friends only at the moment when we are threatened with their - loss. We are even mad enough, when all is well, to think - that we can leave them with impunity. Heaven punishes us; it - snatches them from us, and we are appalled at the solitude - which they leave around us. Forgive me, my dear Joubert: - to-day I feel as though my heart were twenty years old; this - Italy has made me young again; I love all that is dear to - me with the same vehemence as in my early years. Sorrow is - my element: I am myself again only when I am unhappy. My - friends at present are of so rare a sort that the mere dread - of seeing them taken from me freezes my blood. Bear with my - lamentations: I am sure you are as unhappy as I. Write to me, - and write also to that other Breton unfortunate." - - -At first, Madame de Beaumont felt a little relieved. The sufferer -herself began again to believe in her life. I had the satisfaction -of thinking that at least Madame de Beaumont would not leave me -again: I expected to take her to Naples in the spring, and from there -to send in my resignation to the Minister for Foreign Affairs. M. -d'Agincourt[558], that true philosopher, came to see the light bird -of passage, which had stopped at Rome before proceeding to the unknown -land; M. Boquet, already the oldest of our painters, called. These -relays of hope kept up the sufferer, and lulled her with an illusion -which at the bottom of her soul she no longer retained. Letters, cruel -to read, expressing hopes and fears, reached me from every side. On the -4th of October, Lucile wrote to me from Rennes: - -* - -[Sidenote: Letters from Lucile.] - - "I commenced a letter for you the other day; I have just made - a useless search for it; in it I spoke to you of Madame de - Beaumont, and complained of her silence towards me. Dear, - what a sad, strange life I have led for some months! And the - words of the prophet are constantly recurring to my mind: 'He - will crown thee with tribulation, he will toss thee like a - ball[559].' But let us leave my troubles and speak of your - anxieties. I cannot persuade myself that they are justified. - I always see Madame de Beaumont full of life and youth, and - almost incorporeal; my heart can feel no foreboding where - she is concerned. Heaven, which knows our feelings for her, - will doubtless preserve her for us. Dear, we shall not lose - her; I seem to have an inward sense that that is certain. - I sincerely hope that, when you receive this letter, your - anxiety will have disappeared. Tell her from me of all the - real and tender interest I take in her; tell her that to - me her memory is one of the most beautiful things in this - world. Keep your promise and do not fail to let me have news - of her as often as possible. Alas, what a long time will - elapse before I receive a reply to this letter! How cruel a - thing is distance! What makes you speak of your return to - France? You are trying to humour me, you are deceiving me. - Amid all my troubles there arises one sweet thought, that of - your friendship, the thought that I exist in your memory in - the shape in which it has pleased God to fashion me. Dear, I - see no other safe shelter for me upon earth but your heart; - I am a stranger and unknown to all the rest. Adieu, my poor - brother. Shall I see you again? This idea does not present - itself to my mind very distinctly. If you see me again, I - fear you will find me quite out of my senses. Adieu, you to - whom I owe so much! Adieu, unmixed felicity! O memories of my - happy days, can you not now lighten a little my sad hours? - - "I am not one of those who exhaust all their sorrow at the - moment of separation; each day adds to the grief which I feel - at your absence and, if you were to stay in Rome a hundred - years, you would not come to the end of that grief. In order - to delude myself as to absence, not a day passes but I read - some pages of your work: I make every effort to imagine that - I hear you speak. My love for you is very natural: ever since - our childhood you have been my protector and my friend; you - have never cost me a tear, never made a friend but he has - become mine. My kind brother, Heaven, which is pleased to - make sport of all my other felicities, wills that I should - find my happiness wholly in you, that I should trust myself - to your heart. Give me news soon of Madame de Beaumont. - Address your letters to me at Mademoiselle Lamotte's, - although I do not know how long I shall be able to remain - there. Since our last separation, I have always, where my - house is concerned, been like a quicksand that gives way - beneath my feet: assuredly to anyone who does not know me I - must appear incomprehensible; nevertheless I vary only in - form, for inwardly I remain constantly the same." - - -The song of the swan preparing to die was conveyed by me to the dying -swan: I was the echo of that last ineffable music! - -* - -[Sidenote: And Madame de Krüdener.] - -Another letter, very different from the above, but written by a woman -who has played an extraordinary part, Madame de Krüdener[560], shows -the empire which Madame de Beaumont, with no strength of beauty, fame, -power, or wealth, exercised over people's minds: - - "PARIS, 24 _November_ 1803. - - "I learnt two days ago from M. Michaud[561], who has returned - from Lyons, that Madame de Beaumont was in Rome and that she - was very, very ill: that is what he told me. I was deeply - grieved by this; I had a nervous shock, and I thought a great - deal of this charming woman, whom I had not known long, - but whom I loved truly. How often have I wished for her - happiness! How often have I hoped that she might cross the - Alps and find beneath the sky of Italy the sweet and profound - emotions which I myself have there experienced! Alas, can - she have reached that delightful country only to know pain - and to be exposed to dangers which I dread! I cannot tell - you how this idea grieves me. Forgive me if I have been so - much absorbed by this that I have not yet spoken to you of - yourself, my dear Chateaubriand; you must know my sincere - attachment for you, and to show you the genuine interest - which I take in Madame de Beaumont is to touch you more than - I should have done by writing of yourself. I have that sad - spectacle before my eyes; I have the secret of sorrow, and - my soul is always torn at the sight of those souls to which - nature gives the power of suffering more than others. I had - hoped that Madame de Beaumont would enjoy the privilege which - she had received, of being happier; I had hoped that she - would recover some little health with the sun of Italy and - the happiness of having you by her side. Ah, reassure me, - speak to me; tell her that I love her sincerely, that I pray - for her! Has she had my letter written in reply to hers to - Clermont? Address your answer to Michaud: I ask you only for - one word, for I know, my dear Chateaubriand, how sensitive - you are, and how you suffer. I thought she was better; I did - not write to her; I was overwhelmed with business; but I - thought of the happiness she would find in seeing you again, - and I imagined how it would be. Tell me something of your own - health; believe in my friendship, in the interest which I - have vowed to you for ever, and do not forget me. - - "B. KRÜDENER." - -The improvement which the air of Rome had produced in Madame -de Beaumont did not last: true, the indications of an immediate -dissolution disappeared; but it seems that the last moment always -lingers as it were to deceive us. Two or three times, I had tried the -effect of a drive with the patient; I strove to divert her thoughts -by pointing out the country and the sky to her: she no longer cared -for anything. One day I took her to the Coliseum: it was one of those -October days that are to be seen only in Rome. She contrived to alight, -and went and sat upon a stone facing one of the altars placed in -the circle. She raised her eyes and turned them slowly around those -porticoes which had themselves so many years been dead, and which had -seen so many die; the ruins were adorned with briers and columbines -saffroned by autumn and bathed in light. The dying woman next lowered -her eyes, which had left the sun, stage by stage, till they came to the -arena; she fixed them upon the altar cross, and said: - -"Let us go; I am cold." - -I took her home again; she went to bed and rose no more. I was in -correspondence with the Comte de La Luzerne[562]; I sent him from Rome, -by each mail, the bulletin of his sister-in-law's health. He had taken -my brother with him when Louis XVI. charged him with a diplomatic -mission to London: André Chénier was a member of this embassy. - -The doctors, whom I called together again after the experiment of the -drive, declared to me that nothing but a miracle could save Madame de -Beaumont. She was impressed with the idea that she would not outlive -All Souls' Day, the 2nd of November; then she remembered that one of -her kinsmen, I do not know which, had died on the 4th of November. I -told her that her imagination was troubled; that she would come to see -the falsity of her alarms; she replied, to console me: - -"Ah, yes, I shall go farther!" - -She noticed a few tears which I was trying to conceal from her; she -held out her hand to me, and said: - -"You are a child; were you not prepared for it?" - -On the eve of her death, Thursday the 3rd of November, she seemed more -composed. She spoke to me of the disposal of her property, and said, -speaking of her will, "that all was settled, but that all had to be -done, and that she would have liked to have had only two hours in which -to see to it." - -In the evening, the doctor told me that he felt obliged to warn the -sufferer that the time had come for her to think of setting her -conscience in order: I broke down for a minute; I was staggered by the -fear of hastening the few moments which Madame de Beaumont had still to -live by the formal preparations for death. I railed at the doctor, and -then entreated him to wait at least till the next day. - -I passed a cruel night, with this secret locked in my bosom. The -patient did not permit me to spend it in her room. I remained outside, -trembling at every sound I heard: when the door was half opened, I -perceived the feeble gleam of an expiring night-light. - -[Sidenote: The last scene.] - -On Friday the 4th of November, I entered, followed by the doctor. -Madame de Beaumont observed my agitation, and said: - -"Why do you look like that? I have had a good night." - -The doctor thereupon intentionally told me aloud that he wished to -speak to me in the next room. I went out: when I returned, I no longer -knew if I lived. Madame de Beaumont asked me what the doctor wanted. I -flung myself at her bedside and burst into tears. She lay for a moment -without speaking, looked at me, and said in a firm voice, as though she -wished to give me strength: - -"I did not think that it was quite so near; well, the time has come to -say good-bye. Send for the Abbé de Bonnevie." - -The Abbé de Bonnevie, having obtained powers, went to Madame de -Beaumont. She told him that she had always had a deep religious feeling -at heart, but that the extraordinary misfortunes which had befallen -her during the Revolution had led her for some time to doubt the -justice of Providence; that she was ready to admit her errors and to -recommend herself to the eternal mercy; that she hoped, however, that -the ills which she had suffered in this world would shorten her time of -expiation in the next. She made a sign to me to withdraw, and remained -alone with her confessor. - -I saw him come back an hour later, wiping his eyes, and saying that he -had never heard more beautiful language, nor seen such heroism. The -parish priest was sent for to administer the sacraments. I returned to -Madame de Beaumont. When she saw me, she asked: - -"Well, are you pleased with me?" - -She spoke feelingly of what she deigned to call "my kindness" to her: -ah, if I had at that moment been able to buy back a single one of her -days by the sacrifice of all my own, how gladly would I have done -so! Madame de Beaumont's other friends, who were not present at this -sight, had at all events but once to weep for her: whereas I stood at -the head of the bed of pain in which man hears his last hour strike, -and each smile of the patient restored me to life and made me lose it -again as it died away. One lamentable thought distracted me: I noticed -that Madame de Beaumont had not until her last breath suspected the -real attachment which I bore for her; she did not cease to show her -surprise, and she seemed to die disconsolate and charmed. She had -believed herself a burden to me, and had wished to go to set me free. - -The priest arrived at eleven o'clock: the room filled with that -indifferent crowd of idlers which cannot be prevented from running -after the priest in Rome. Madame de Beaumont faced the formidable -solemnity without the least sign of fear. We fell upon our knees, and -the patient received Communion and Extreme Unction at once. When all -had retired, she made me sit on the edge of her bed and spoke to me for -half an hour of my affairs and of my plans with the greatest elevation -of mind and the most touching friendship; she urged me, above all, to -live with Madame de Chateaubriand and M. Joubert: but was M. Joubert -himself to live? - -She asked me to open the window, as she felt oppressed. A sun-ray came -and lit up her bed: this seemed to cheer her. She then reminded me of -plans for retiring to the country which we had sometimes discussed, and -she began to cry. - -Between two and three in the afternoon, Madame de Beaumont asked to be -changed to another bed by Madame Saint-Germain[563], an old Spanish -lady's-maid, who waited on her with the affection worthy of so kind -a mistress: the doctor forbade this, fearing lest Madame de Beaumont -might die during the moving. She then told me that she felt the agony -approach. Suddenly she flung back her blanket, held out her hand to me, -pressed mine convulsively; her eyes wandered. With her one free hand -she made signs to some one whom she saw standing at the foot of her -bed; then, bringing the hand back to her breast, she said: - -"It is there!" - -[Sidenote: Death of madame de Beaumont.] - -Dismayed, I asked her if she knew me: a faint smile broke through her -delirium; she gave me a little nod of the head: her speech already was -no longer of this world. The convulsions lasted only a few minutes. We -supported her in our arms, the doctor, the nurse, and myself: one of my -hands lay upon her heart, which could be felt against her wasted frame; -it beat swiftly, like a clock winding off its broken chain. Oh, moment -of fear and horror, I felt it stop! We let down upon her pillow the -woman who had found rest; her head drooped. Some locks of her uncurled -hair fell over her forehead; her eyes were closed, night had set in for -ever. The doctor held a mirror and a light to the stranger's mouth: the -mirror was not dimmed with the breath of life and the light remained -unmoved. All was ended. - -* - -Generally those who weep are able to indulge their tears in peace; -there are others to take upon themselves to attend to the last cares -of religion: as representing for France the Cardinal Minister, then -absent, and as the sole friend of M. de Montmorin's daughter and -responsible to her family, I was obliged to superintend everything; I -had to fix the place of burial, to look after the depth and width of -the grave, to order the winding-sheet and to give the carpenter the -dimensions of the coffin. - -Two monks watched by the coffin, which was to be carried to San Luigi -dei Francesi. One of these fathers was from Auvergne and a native of -Montmorin itself. Madame de Beaumont had expressed the wish to be -buried in a piece of cloth which her brother Auguste[564], the only -one to escape the scaffold, had sent her from the Mauritius. This -cloth was not in Rome; only a piece of it was found, which she always -carried with her. Madame Saint-Germain fastened this strip around the -body with a cornelian containing some of M. de Montmorin's hair. The -French ecclesiastics were invited; the Princesse Borghèse lent the -funeral car of her family; Cardinal Fesch had left orders, in case -of an accident but too clearly foreseen, to send his livery and his -carriages. On Saturday the 5th of November, at seven o'clock in the -evening, by the gleam of torch-light and amidst a large crowd, Madame -de Beaumont passed along the road where we have all to pass. On Sunday -the 6th of November, the burial mass was celebrated. The funeral would -have been less French in Paris than it was in Rome. That religious -architecture which displays in its ornaments the arms and inscriptions -of our ancient country; those tombs on which are inscribed the names of -some of the most historic families of our annals; that church, under -the protection of a great saint, a great king and a great man: all this -did not console misfortune, but honoured it. I had wished that the last -scion of a once exalted race should at least find some support in my -humble attachment, and that friendship should not fail it as fortune -had done. - -The people of Rome, accustomed to strangers, accept them as brothers -and sisters. Madame de Beaumont left a pious memory behind her on -that soil so hospitable to the dead; she is still remembered: I have -seen Leo XII.[565] pray at her tomb[566]. In 1828[567], I visited the -monument of her who was the soul of a vanishing society; the sound of -my footsteps around this silent monument, in a lonely church, was a -warning to me: - -"I shall always love thee," says the Greek epitaph; "but thou, among -the dead, drink not, I pray thee, of the cup which would cause thee to -forget thy former friends[568]." - -If the calamities of a private life were to be measured by the scale -of public events, those calamities would hardly deserve a word in a -writer's Memoirs. Who has not lost a friend? Who has not seen him die? -Who could not recall a similar scene of mourning? The comment is just, -yet no one has ever corrected himself of telling his own adventures: -sailors on board the ship that carries them have a family on shore of -whom they think and of whom they talk with one another. Every man has -within himself a world apart, foreign to the laws and to the general -destinies of the ages. It is, moreover, a mistake to believe that -revolutions, famous accidents, resounding catastrophes are the only -records of our nature: we all labour singly at the chain of our common -history, and all these separate existences together compose man's -universe in the eyes of God. - -[Sidenote: Letters of sympathy.] - -To collect regrets around the ashes of Madame de Beaumont is but to lay -upon her tomb the wreaths intended for her: - - M. DE CHÊNEDOLLÉ TO CHATEAUBRIAND. - - "You can have no doubt, my dear', unhappy friend, of the - great part which I take in your affliction. My grief is not - so great as yours, because that is impossible; but I am very - deeply afflicted by this loss, which darkens yet further this - existence which for so long has been nothing but suffering to - me. It is thus that all that is good, lovable and sensitive - vanishes from the face of the earth. My poor friend, hasten - back to France; come and seek consolation with your old - friend. You know how well I love you: come. - - "I was excessively anxious about you: it was more than three - months since I had heard from you, and three of my letters - have remained unanswered. Have you received them? Madame de - Caud suddenly ceased writing to me two months ago. This hurt - me mortally, and yet I cannot think that I have done anything - to offend her. But, whatever she may do, she can never take - from me the fond and respectful friendship which I have vowed - to her for life. Fontanes and Joubert also no longer write to - me; so that all whom I loved seem to have combined to forget - me at once. Do not you forget me, O my good friend: leave - me one heart upon which I can rely in this vale of tears! - Farewell, I embrace you weeping. Be sure, my good friend, - that I feel your loss as it should be felt. - - "23 _November_ 1803." - - M. DE FONTANES TO CHATEAUBRIAND. - - "I share all your regrets, my dear friend: I feel the - painfulness of your position. To die so young, and after - outliving all her family! But, at any rate, that interesting - and unhappy woman did not lack the help and the remembrance - of friendship. Her memory will live in hearts worthy of her. - I have forwarded to M. de La Luzerne the touching account - intended for him. Old Saint-Germain, your friend's servant, - has taken it with him. That faithful attendant made me shed - tears when talking of his mistress. I told him that he - had a legacy of ten thousand francs; but he did not give - it a single thought. If it were possible to talk of money - matters under such mournful circumstances, I would say that - it would have been very natural to have given you at least - the use of a fortune which will have to pass to distant and - almost unknown collaterals[569]. I approve of your conduct; - I know your delicacy; but I cannot be as disinterested for - my friend as he is for himself. I confess that this omission - surprises and pains me[570]. Madame de Beaumont spoke to you - on her death-bed, with the eloquence of a last farewell, - of the future and of your destinies. Her voice must needs - have greater strength than mine. But did she advise you to - throw up a salary of eight or ten thousand francs just when - your path was cleared of its first thorns? Could you rashly, - my dear friend, take so momentous a step? You know what a - pleasure it would be to me to see you again. Were I only - to consult my own happiness, I would say, 'Come at once.' - But your interests are as dear to me as my own, and I see - no immediate prospects for you which could make good the - advantages which you are voluntarily surrendering. I know - that your talents, your name and your industry will never - leave you in want of the first necessities; but in all that - I see more fame than fortune. Your education, your habits, - demand some little expenditure. Reputation alone will not - provide the wants of life, and the wretched science of 'bread - and cheese' takes precedence of all others, if you want to be - independent and at ease. I trust that nothing will persuade - you to seek your fortune among foreigners. Believe me, my - friend, after the first blandishments, they are worth even - less than one's fellow-countrymen. If your loving friend - made all these reflections, her last moments must have been - somewhat disturbed; but I hope that, at the foot of her - grave, you will find lessons and lights superior to any which - your remaining friends could give you. That amiable woman - loved you: she will advise you well. Her memory and your - heart will be a safe guide to you: I have no more concern if - you listen to them both. Adieu, my dear friend, I embrace you - tenderly." - -M. Necker wrote me the only letter which I ever received from him. -I had witnessed the delight of the Court at the dismissal of this -minister, the disregard of whose honest warnings contributed to the -overthrow of the monarchy. He had been M. de Montmorin's colleague. M. -Necker was shortly to die at the place whence his letter was dated; not -at that time having Madame de Staël by his side, he found some tears -for his daughter's friend: - -[Sidenote: M. Necker, Madame de Staël.] - - M. NECKER TO CHATEAUBRIAND. - - "SIR, - - "My daughter, when setting out for Germany, asked me to - open any packets of large size that might be addressed to - her, so as to decide whether they were worth the trouble - of forwarding by post. This is the reason of my learning - the news of Madame de Beaumont's death before she does. I - forwarded your letter to her, sir, at Frankfort, whence it - will probably be sent on farther to her, perhaps to Weimar or - Berlin. Do not, therefore, be surprised, sir, if you do not - receive a reply from Madame de Staël as early as you have the - right to expect. You must be assured, sir, of the grief which - Madame de Staël will feel on hearing of the loss of a friend - of whom I have always heard her speak with profound feeling. - I join in her sorrow, I join, sir, in yours, and I have my - own particular share when I think of the unhappy fate of the - whole family of my friend M. de Montmorin. - - "I see, sir, that you are on the point of leaving Rome to - return to France: I hope you will choose your road through - Geneva, where I shall spend the winter. I should be very - eager to do you the honours of a town where you are already - known by reputation. But where, sir, are you not so known? - Your last work, sparkling with incomparable beauties, is in - the hands of all who love to read. - - "I have the honour, sir, to offer you the assurance and the - homage of my most distinguished sentiments. - - "NECKER. - - "Coppet, 27 _November_ 1803." - - MADAME DE STAËL TO CHATEAUBRIAND. - - "FRANKFORT, 3 _December_ 1803. - - "Ah, Heavens, my dear Francis[571] with what sorrow was I - smitten on receiving your letter! Already, yesterday, this - frightful news was burst upon me through the papers, and now - comes your heart-rending narrative to engrave it for ever in - letters of blood on my heart. Can you, can you speak to me of - different opinions on religion, on the priests? Are there two - opinions where there is but one sentiment? I have read your - account through the most sorrowful tears. My dear Francis, - think of the time at which you felt the greatest friendship - for me; above all, do not forget that at which my whole heart - was drawn towards you, and tell yourself that those feelings, - more tender, more profound than ever, remain for you at the - bottom of my soul. I loved, I admired the character of Madame - de Beaumont: I knew not one more generous, more grateful, - more passionately sensitive. Since I first entered into - the world, I never ceased to have relations with her, and - I always felt, even in the midst of some differences, that - we held together by the same roots. My dear Francis, give - me a place in your heart. I admire you, I love you, I loved - her whom you regret. I am a devoted friend, I will be a - sister to you. I must respect your opinions more than ever. - Matthieu[572], who holds them, has been an angel to me in - this last sorrow which I have felt. Give me a new reason for - showing them my consideration: let me be useful or agreeable - to you in some way. Did you hear that I had been banished to - a distance of forty leagues from Paris[573]? I have taken - the occasion to go round Germany; but in the spring I shall - have returned to Paris itself, if my exile be ended, or near - Paris, or to Geneva. Arrange that, in some manner, we may - meet. Do you not feel that my mind and my soul understand - yours, and do you not feel wherein we resemble each other, - notwithstanding the differences? M. de Humboldt[574] wrote me - a letter a few days ago in which he spoke to me of your work - with an admiration which must flatter you in a man of his - merit and opinions. But why speak to you of your successes at - such a moment? Yet she loved those successes of yours, and - attached her own fame to them. Farewell, my dear François. I - will write to you from Weimar, in Saxony. Write to me there, - to the care of Messrs. Desport, bankers. What harrowing - phrases your story contains! And then your resolve to keep - poor Saint-Germain: you must bring her to my house one day. - - "Farewell, affectionately: and sorrowfully, farewell. - - "M. DE STAËL." - - -This eager and affectionately informal letter, written by an -illustrious woman, redoubled my emotion. Madame de Beaumont would have -been very happy at that moment had Heaven permitted her to return to -life! But our attachments, which are perceived by the dead, cannot free -them from their bonds: when Lazarus rose from the tomb he was bound -feet and hands with winding-bands, and his face was bound about with a -napkin; but friendship cannot say, as Christ said to Martha and Mary: - -"Loose him and let him go[575]." - -My consolers have also passed away, and they claim for themselves the -regrets which they gave to another. - -* - -[Sidenote: My grief.] - -I had determined to leave this official career in which personal -misfortunes had come in addition to the triviality of the work and to -paltry political annoyances. One does not know what desolation of the -heart means until one has remained alone, wandering through spots once -inhabited by a person who accepted your life: you seek her and do not -find her; she speaks to you, smiles to you, accompanies you; all that -she has worn or touched presents her image; between her and you there -is only a transparent curtain, but so heavy that you cannot raise it. -The remembrance of the first friend who has left you on the road is a -cruel one; for if your days have been prolonged, you have necessarily -suffered other losses: the dead who have followed each other become -linked to the first, and you mourn at one time and in one person all -those whom you have successively lost. - -At this distance from France, the arrangements which I was making -progressed slowly; meanwhile I remained forlorn among the ruins of -Rome. When I first walked out, the aspect of things seemed changed to -me: I did not recognise the trees, nor the monuments, nor the sky; I -wandered through the fields, along the cascades and aqueducts, as I -had done before beneath the overhanging forests of the New World. Then -I re-entered the Eternal City, which now added one more extinguished -life to so many spent existences. By dint of my many rambles in the -solitudes of the Tiber, they became so clearly engraved upon my memory -that I was able to describe them fairly accurately in my Letter to M. -de Fontanes[576]: - - "If the traveller be unhappy," I said, "if he have - mingled the ashes that he loved with so many ashes of the - illustrious, what a charm will he not find in passing from - the tomb of Cæcilia Metella to the grave of an ill-fortuned - woman!" - - -It was also in Rome that I first formed the idea of writing the Memoirs -of my Life; I find a few lines jotted down at random, from which I -decipher these few words: - - "After wandering over the world, spending the best years of - my youth far from my native land, and suffering nearly all - that man can suffer, not excluding hunger, I returned to - Paris in 1800." - -In a letter to M. Joubert[577] I thus sketched my plan: - - "My only pleasure is to snatch a few hours wherein to busy - myself with a work which alone can bring some assuagement - to my grief: it is the Memoirs of my Life. Rome will have a - place in it; it is in this way only that I can henceforth - speak of Rome. Have no fear; there will be no confessions - likely to give pain to my friends: if I am to count for - anything in the future, my friends' names will therein appear - glorified and respected. Nor shall I entertain posterity - with the details of my frailties; I shall say of myself only - what becomes my dignity as a man, and, I dare say it, the - elevation of my heart. One should show to the world only what - is beautiful; it is no lie against God to unveil of one's - life no more than may lead our fellows towards noble and - generous feelings. Not that, in truth, I have anything to - conceal: I have not caused the dismissal of a servant-girl - for a stolen ribbon, nor left my friend to die in the street, - nor dishonoured the woman who sheltered me, nor taken my - bastards to the Foundling Hospital[578]; but I have had my - moments of weakness, of faint-heartedness: one sigh over - myself will be sufficient to make others understand those - common miseries, meant to be left behind the veil. What would - society gain by the reproduction of sores that occur on every - side? There is no lack of examples, where it is a question of - triumphing over our poor human nature." - -* - -[Sidenote: I decide to write my memoirs.] - -In this plan which I made for myself I omitted my family, my childhood, -my youth, my travels, and my exile: yet these are the recitals in which -I took most pleasure. - -I had been like a happy slave: accustomed to apply his liberty to the -vine-stocks, he no longer knows what to do with his leisure when his -chains are broken. Whenever I decided to set to work, a figure came and -placed itself before me, and I could not take my eyes from it: religion -alone held me by its gravity and by the reflections of a higher order -which it suggested to me. - -And yet, while occupied with the thought of writing my Memoirs, I felt -the price which the ancients attached to the value of their name: there -is perhaps a touching reality in this perpetuity of the memories which -one may leave on the way. Perhaps, among the great men of antiquity, -this idea of an immortal life among the human race supplied the place -of the immortality of the soul which for them remained a problem. -If fame is but a small thing when it relates to ourselves, it must -nevertheless be agreed that to give an imperishable existence to all -that it has loved is one of the finest privileges attached to the -friendship of genius. - -I undertook a commentary upon certain books of the Bible, beginning -with _Genesis._ Upon the verse, "Behold, Adam is become as one of -us, knowing good and evil: now, therefore, lest perhaps he put forth -his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live for -ever[579]," I remarked the tremendous irony of the Creator: "Behold -Adam is become as one of us, etc. Lest perhaps the man put forth his -hand and take of the tree of life." Why? Because he has tasted of the -fruit of knowledge, and knows good and evil, he is now loaded with -ills: "therefore, lest perhaps he live for ever." What a blessing from -God is death! - -There are prayers begun, some for "disquietude of soul," others "to -strengthen one's self against the prosperity of the wicked." I sought -to bring back to a centre of repose the thoughts which strayed beyond -me. - -As God was not pleased to let my life end there, reserving it for -prolonged trials, the storms which had arisen abated. Suddenly the -Cardinal Ambassador changed his manner towards me; I had an explanation -with him, and declared my resolve to resign. He opposed this: he -maintained that my resignation at that moment would have the appearance -of a disgrace; that I should be delighting my enemies, that the First -Consul would take offense, which would prevent me from remaining -undisturbed in the places to which I proposed to retire. He suggested -that I should go to spend a fortnight or a month at Naples. - -Just at this moment, I was being sounded on behalf of Russia with a -view to my accepting the place of governor to a grand-duke: it was as -much as I would have done had I proposed to sacrifice to Henry V. the -last years of my life. - -While wavering between a thousand resolutions, I received the news -that the First Consul had appointed me Minister to the Valais. He had -at first flown into a passion on the faith of some denunciations; but, -returning to his senses, he understood that I was of the race which -is of value only in the front rank, that I should not be mixed with -others, as otherwise I could never be used to advantage. There was no -place vacant: he created one, and, choosing it in conformity with my -instinct for solitude and independence, he placed me in the Alps; he -gave me a Catholic republic, in a world of torrents: the Rhone and our -soldiers would cross at my feet, the one descending towards France, -the others climbing towards Italy, while the Simplon opened its daring -road before me. The Consul was to allow me as frequent leave as I might -wish to travel in Italy, and Madame Bacciochi sent me a message through -Fontanes that the first important embassy available was reserved for -me. I thus won this first diplomatic victory without either expecting -or intending it; true that, at the head of the State, was a lofty -intelligence, which was not willing to sacrifice to official intrigues -another intelligence which it knew to be but too well disposed to -secede from the government. - -[Sidenote: Cardinal Fesch.] - -This remark is all the more true in that Cardinal Fesch, to whom I do -justice in these Memoirs in a manner upon which, perhaps, he did not -reckon, had sent two malicious dispatches to Paris, almost at the very -moment at which his manners had become more obliging, after the death -of Madame de Beaumont. Did his true thought lie in his conversations, -when he gave me leave to go to Naples, or in his diplomatic missives? -The conversations and the missives bear the same date and are -contradictory. It would have been easy for me to set M. le Cardinal, -right with himself by destroying all traces of the reports that -concerned me: I had but to remove the Ambassador's lucubrations from -the _cartons_ at the time when I was Minister for Foreign Affairs; I -should have done only what M. de Talleyrand did in the matter of his -correspondence with the Emperor. I did not consider that I had the -right to turn my power to my own advantage. If, by chance, any one -should look up these documents, he would find them in their place. That -this conduct is self-deceiving I readily admit; but, in order not to -make a merit of a virtue which I do not possess, I must say that this -respect for the correspondence of my detractors arises more from my -contempt than from my generosity. I have also seen, in the archives -of the Berlin Embassy, offensive letters from M. le Marquis de Bonnay -concerning myself: far from considering my own feelings, I shall make -them public. - -M. le Cardinal Fesch was no more reticent as to the poor Abbé Guillon -(the Bishop of Morocco): the latter was marked out as "a Russian -agent." Bonaparte called M. Lainé[580] "an English agent:" these are -instances of the gossip of which that great man had taken the bad habit -from the police reports. But was there nothing to be said against M. -Fesch himself? The Cardinal de Clermont-Tonnerre was at Rome like -myself, in 1803: what did he not write of Napoleon's uncle! I have the -letters. - -For the rest, to whom do these contentions, buried since forty years -in worm-eaten files, matter? Of the several actors of that period, one -alone will remain: Bonaparte. All of us who make pretensions to live -are dead already: can the insect's name be read by the feeble light -which it sometimes drags with it as it crawls? - -When M. le Cardinal Fesch met me again I was Ambassador to Leo XII.; he -gave me marks of his esteem: I on my side made a point of outdoing him -in deference. It is natural, moreover, that I should have been judged -with a severity which I have never spared myself. All this is past and -done with: I do not wish even to recognise the handwriting of those -who, in 1803, served as official or semi-official secretaries to M. le -Cardinal Fesch. - -I set out for Naples: there began a year without Madame de Beaumont, -a year of absence to be followed by so many others! I have never seen -Naples again since that time, although I was on the threshold of that -same town in 1828, having promised myself to go there with Madame de -Chateaubriand. The orange-trees were covered with their fruits, the -myrtles with their flowers. Baie, the Campi Elysei, and the sea were -delights of which I no longer had any one to whom to speak. I have -described the Bay of Naples in the _Martyrs._[581] I climbed Vesuvius -and descended into its crater. I pilfered from myself: I was enacting a -scene in _René._ - -At Pompeii I was shown a skeleton in irons, and mutilated Latin words -scribbled by soldiers on the walls. I returned to Rome. Canova[582] -permitted me to visit his studio while he was working at the statue of -a nymph. Elsewhere the models for the marbles of the tomb which I had -ordered had already attained much expression. I went to pray over ashes -at San Luigi, and I left for Paris on the 21st of January 1804, another -day of misfortune. - -Behold a prodigious misery: five and thirty years have sped since the -date of those events. Did not I flatter myself, in those distant days -of grief, that the bond just broken would be my last? And yet how soon -have I, not forgotten, but replaced what was dear to me! Thus man -goes from weakness to weakness. When he is young and drives his life -before him, a shadow of an excuse remains to him; but when he gets -between the shafts and laboriously drags it behind him, how is he to be -excused? The poverty of our nature is so intense that in our volatile -infirmities, in order to express our new affections, we can employ only -words which we have already worn threadbare in our former attachments. -There are words, nevertheless, which ought to be used but once: they -become profaned by repetition. Our betrayed and neglected friendships -reproach us with the new companionships that we have formed; our hours -arraign one another: our life is one perpetual blush, because it is one -continued fault. - -As my intention was not to remain in Paris, I alighted at the Hôtel de -France[583], in the Rue de Beaune, where Madame de Chateaubriand came -to join me to accompany me to the Valais. My former society, already -half dispersed, had lost the link which held it together. - -Bonaparte was marching towards the Empire; his genius rose in the -measure that events increased in importance: he was able, like -gunpowder when it expands, to carry away the world; already immense, -and yet not feeling himself at his zenith, he was tormented by his -strength; he groped, he seemed to be feeling his way; when I arrived in -Paris he was dealing with Pichegru and Moreau; through petty envy he -had consented to admit them as rivals: Moreau, Pichegru, and Georges -Cadoudal, who was greatly their superior, were arrested. - -This vulgar train of conspiracies, which we encounter in all the -affairs of life, was very distasteful to me, and I was glad to seek -flight in the mountains. - -The council of the town of Sion wrote to me. The simplicity of this -despatch has made a document of it to me; I was entering politics -through religion: the _Génie du Christianisme_ had opened the doors for -me. - -[Sidenote: I am promoted.] - - "REPUBLIC OF THE VALAIS. - - "SION, 20 _February_ 1804. - - "COUNCIL OF THE TOWN OF SION. - - "_To Monsieur Chateaubriand, Secretary of Legation of the - French Republic in Rome._ - - "SIR, - - "An official letter from our High Bailiff apprizes us of your - nomination to the post of French Minister to our Republic. - We hasten to express to you the very complete satisfaction - which this choice gives us. We see in this nomination a - precious token of the good-will of the First Consul towards - our Republic, and we congratulate ourselves on the honour of - having you within our walls: we draw from it the happiest - auguries for the welfare of our country and of our town. - In order to give you a proof of these sentiments, we have - resolved to have a provisional lodging prepared for you, - worthy to receive you, fitted with furniture and effects - suited for your use, in so far as the locality and our - circumstances permit, pending the time when you will yourself - have been able to make arrangements to your own convenience. - - "Pray, sir, accept this offer as a proof of our sincere - inclination to honour the French Government in the person - of its envoy, the choice of whom must needs be peculiarly - pleasing to a religious people. We beg you to be so good as - to acquaint us with the date of your arrival in this town. - - "Accept, sir, the assurances of our respectful consideration. - - "DE RIEDMATTEN, - - "President of the Town Council of Sion. - - - "By order of the Town Council: - - "DE TORRENTÉ, - - "Secretary to the Council." - -Two days before the 21st of March[584], I dressed to go to take leave -of Bonaparte at the Tuileries; I had not seen him again since the -moment during which he had spoken to me at Lucien's. The gallery in -which he was receiving was full; he was accompanied by Murat and a -principal aide-de-camp; he passed through almost without stopping. -As he approached me, I was struck by the alteration in his face: -his cheeks were sunk and livid, his eyes hard, his complexion pale -and muddy, his aspect gloomy and terrible. The attraction which had -previously urged me towards him ceased; instead of remaining on his -passage, I made a movement to avoid him. He threw a glance at me as -though to seek to recognise me, took a few steps towards me, then -turned and walked away. Had I appeared to him as a warning? His -aide-de-camp noticed me: when the crowd covered me, the aide-de-camp -tried to catch sight of me between the persons standing before me, and -again drew the Consul in my direction. This sport continued for nearly -a quarter of an hour, I always drawing back, Napoleon always following -me without knowing it. I have never been able to explain to myself what -idea had struck the aide-de-camp. Did he take me for a suspicious man -whom he had never seen? Did he, if he knew who I was, wish to force -Bonaparte to speak to me? However this may be, Napoleon passed on to -another apartment. Content to have done my duty in presenting myself -at the Tuileries, I withdrew. From the joy which I have always felt at -leaving palaces, it is evident that I was not made to enter them. - -[Sidenote: Bonaparte.] - -On returning to the Hôtel de France, I said to several of my friends: - -"Something strange must be happening, of which we do not know, for -Bonaparte cannot have changed to that extent, unless he be ill." - -M. de Bourrienne[585] knew of my singular foresight: he has only -confused the dates; here is his sentence: - - "On returning from the First Consul's, M. de Chateaubriand - declared to his friends that he had remarked a great - alteration in the First Consul, and something very sinister - in his look[586]." - -Yes, I remarked it: a superior intelligence does not bring forth evil -without pain, because that is not its natural fruit, and it ought not -to bear it. - -Two days later, on the 21st of March[587], I rose early, for the sake -of a memory that was sad and dear to me. M. de Montmorin had built -himself a house at the corner of the Rue Plumet, on the new Boulevard -des Invalides. In the garden of that house, which was sold during the -Revolution, Madame de Beaumont, then almost a child, had planted a -cypress-tree, and she had sometimes taken pleasure in showing it to -me as we passed: it was to this cypress-tree, of which I alone knew -the origin and the history, that I went to bid adieu. It still exists, -but it is pining away, and scarce rises to the level of the casement -beneath which a hand which has vanished loved to tend it. I distinguish -that poor tree from among three or four others of its species; it seems -to know me and to rejoice when I approach; mournful breezes bend its -yellowed head a little towards me, and it murmurs at the window of the -deserted room: a mysterious intelligence reigns between us, which will -cease when one or the other shall have fallen. - -Having paid my pious tribute, I went down the Boulevard and Esplanade -des Invalides, crossed the Pont Louis XV. and the Tuileries Gardens, -which I left, near the Pavilion Marsan, by the gate which now opens -into the Rue de Rivoli. There, between eleven and twelve o'clock in the -morning, I heard a man and a woman crying official news; passers-by -were stopping, suddenly petrified by these words: - - "Verdict of the special military commission summoned at - Vincennes, condemning to pain of death THE MAN KNOWN AS LOUIS - ANTOINE HENRI DE BOURBON, BORN ON THE 2ND OF AUGUST 1772 AT - CHANTILLY." - -[Sidenote: Death of the Duc D'Enghien.] - -This cry fell upon me like a thunderbolt; it changed my life, as it -changed Napoleon's. I returned home; I said to Madame Chateaubriand: - -"The Duc d'Enghien has been shot." - -I sat down to a table and began to write my resignation[588]. Madame -de Chateaubriand raised no objection, and with great courage watched -me writing. She did not blind herself to my danger: General Moreau and -Georges Cadoudal were being prosecuted[589]; the lion had tasted blood, -this was not the moment to irritate him. - -M. Clausel de Coussergues[590] arrived in the interval; he also had -heard the sentence cried. He found me pen in hand: my letter, from -which, out of compassion for Madame de Chateaubriand, he made me -suppress certain angry phrases, was despatched; it was addressed to -the Minister of Foreign Relations. The wording mattered little: my -opinion and my crime lay in the fact of my resignation: Bonaparte made -no mistake as to that. Madame Bacciochi exclaimed loudly on hearing -of what she called my "disloyalty;" she sent for me and made me the -liveliest reproaches. M. de Fontanes at first went almost mad with -fear: he already saw me shot, with all the persons who were attached to -me. During several days, my friends went in dread of seeing me carried -off by the police; they called on me from one minute to the other, -always trembling as they approached the porter's lodge. M. Pasquier -came and embraced me on the day after my resignation, saying he was -happy to have such a friend as I. He remained for a fairly considerable -time in an honourably moderate opposition, removed from place and power. - -Nevertheless, the movement of sympathy which impels us to praise a -generous action came to an end. I had, in consideration of religion, -accepted a place outside France, a place conferred upon me by a mighty -genius, the conqueror of anarchy, a leader sprung from the popular -principle, the _consul_ of a _republic_, and not a king continuing an -usurped _monarchy_; at that time I stood alone in my feeling, because -I was consistent in my conduct; I retired when the conditions to which -I was able to subscribe altered; but, so soon as the hero had changed -himself into a murderer, there came a rush for his ante-chamber. Six -months after the 21st of March, one might have thought that there was -only one opinion in society, but for a few malicious jests in which -people indulged in private. _Fallen_ persons pretended to have been -_violated_, and only they, it was said, were _violated_ who possessed a -great name or great importance, and each one, to prove his importance -or his quarterings, contrived to be _violated_ by dint of solicitation. - -Those who had most loudly applauded me fell away; my presence was a -reproach to them: prudent people find imprudence in those who yield -to honour. There are times in which loftiness of soul is a real -infirmity; no one understands it; it passes for a sort of narrowness -of mind, for a prejudice, an unintelligent trick of education, a -crotchet, a whim which interferes with the judgment: an honourable -imbecility, perhaps, but a stupid helotism. What capacity can any one -find in shutting your eyes, in remaining indifferent to the march of -the century, to the movement of ideas, to the change of manners, to -the progress of society? Is it not a deplorable mistake to attach to -events an importance which they do not possess? Barricaded behind -your narrow principles, your mind as limited as your judgment, you -are like a man living at the back of a house, looking out only on a -little yard, unaware of what happens in the street or of the noise to -be heard outside. That is what a little independence reduces you to, -an object of pity to the average man: as to the great minds with their -affectionate pride and their haughty eyes, _oculos sublimes_[591], -their compassionate disdain forgives you, because they know that "you -cannot hear[592]." I therefore shrank back humbly into my literary -career, a poor Pindar destined in my first Olympic to praise "the -excellence of water," leaving wine to the happy. - -[Sidenote: I resign my Embassy.] - -Friendship put fresh heart into M. de Fontanes; Madame Bacciochi placed -her kindness between her brother's anger and my resolution; M. de -Talleyrand, through indifference or calculation, kept my resignation -for several days before speaking of it: when he announced it to -Bonaparte the latter had had time to reflect. On receiving from me the -only direct sign of blame from an honest man who was not afraid to defy -him, he uttered merely these two words: - -"Very well." - -Later, he said to his sister: - -"Were you very much alarmed for your friend?" - -Long after, in conversation with M. de Fontanes, he confessed that -my resignation was one of the things that had impressed him most -M. de Talleyrand had an official letter sent to me in which he -gracefully reproached me for depriving his department of my talents -and services[593]. I returned the expenses of installation, and all -was apparently finished. But, in daring to leave Bonaparte, I had -placed myself upon his level, and he was incensed against me with all -the strength of his perfidy, as I against him with all that of my -loyalty. Till the day of his fall, he held the sword suspended over -my head: sometimes he returned to me by a natural leaning and tried to -drown me in his fatal prosperity; sometimes I was drawn to him by the -admiration with which he inspired me, by the idea that I was assisting -at a transformation of society, not at a mere change of dynasty: but -antipathetic in so many respects, our respective natures gained the -upper hand, and if he would gladly have had me shot, I should have felt -no great compunction in killing him. - -Death makes a great man or unmakes him; it stops him on the stair which -he was about to descend, or on the step which he was about to climb: -his is a destiny that has succeeded or failed; in the first case, one -is reduced to examine what it has been, in the second to conjecture -what it might have become. - -If, in doing my duty, I had been prompted by far-seeing views of -ambition, I should have deceived myself. Charles X. learnt only at -Prague what I had done in 1804: he had but lately been King. - -"Chateaubriand," he said to me at the Castle of Hradschin, "had you -served Bonaparte?" - -"Yes, Sire." - -"Did you resign on the death of M. le Duc d'Enghien?" - -"Yes, Sire." - -Misfortune instructs or restores the memory. I have told you how one -day in London, when I had taken shelter with M. de Fontanes in a -passage during a storm, M. le Duc de Bourbon came and sought cover -under the same refuge: in France, his gallant father and he, who -so politely thanked whoever wrote a funeral oration on M. le Duc -d'Enghien, did not send me one word of remembrance; they were doubtless -unaware of my conduct: true, I never told them of it. - - - -[446] This book was commenced in Paris in 1837, continued and completed -in Paris in 1838, and revised in February 1845 and December 1846.--T. - -[447] The Château du Marais was built by M. Le Maître, a very rich -man, who left it to Madame de La Briche, his niece. It stands in the -commune of the Val-Saint-Maurice, canton of Dourdan, Department of -Seine-et-Oise, and is now the property of the Dowager Duchesse de -Noailles.--B. - -[448] Adélaïde Edmée de La Briche, _née_ Prévost, widow of Alexis -Janvier de La Live de La Briche, Introducer of Ambassadors and Private -Secretary to the Queen.--B. - -[449] Louise Joséphine Comtesse de Montesquiou-Fezensac (1764-1832), -_née_ de La Live de Jully, sister to Madame de Vintimille.--B. - -[450] The Château de Champlâtreux, in the commune of -Épinay-Champlâtreux, canton of Luzarches, Department of Seine-et-Oise, -was the old seat of the Molé family. It belongs now to M. le Duc de -Noailles. The Comte Molé died there, 25 November 1855.--B. - -[451] Édouard François Matthieu Molé de Champlâtreux (_d._ 1794), a -President in the Parliament of Paris, guillotined 20 April 1794.--B. - -[452] The domain, now in the Department of Eure-et-Loir, presented to -Madame de Maintenon by Louis XIV.--T. - -[453] Louise Éléonore Mélanie Marquise de Custine (1770-1826), _née_ de -Sabran, married in 1787 to Amand Louis Philippe François de Custine, -guillotined 4 January 1794.--B. - -[454] Margaret Queen of France (1219-1295), daughter of Raymond -Berengarius IV. Count of Provence, and married in 1234 to King Louis -IX.: a virtuous queen in every way worthy of her spouse.--T. - -[455] The Château de Fervacques is near Lisieux in Calvados. Madame -de Custine bought it of the Duc de Montmorency-Laval and his sister -the Duchesse de Luynes. It is now the property of M. le Comte de -Montgomery.--T. - -[456] Christina Queen of Sweden (1626-1689) spent some years in France -after her abdication in 1654.--T. - -[457] Astolphe Louis Léonor Marquis de Custine (1793-1857), author of -an excellent book on La Russie en 1839, in 4 volumes (1843), and many -other remarkable works that obtained a well-deserved success.--B. - -[458] Madame de Custine had been imprisoned at the Carmelites and had -escaped execution thanks only to the Revolution of 9 Thermidor.--T. - -[459] - - "The lady of Fervacques - Deserves a brisk attack."--T. - - -[460] Afterwards Madame de Bérenger.--B. - -[461] Louise Julie Talma (_d._ 1805), _née_ Carreau, married Talma on -the 19th of April 1791. They were divorced on the 6th of February 1801 -by mutual consent. Talma married next year (16 June 1802) Charlotte -Vanhove, the divorced wife of Louis Sébastien Olympe Petit, from whom -he was also separated shortly afterwards on the same terms.--B. - -[462] Stanislas Marie Adélaïde Comte de Clermont-Tonnerre (1747-1792), -a Monarchical member of the Constituent Assembly, butchered by the -populace on the 10th of August 1792.--T. - -[463] Louis Justin Marie Marquis de Talaru (1769-1850), for some time -French Ambassador in Madrid under the Restoration. He was created a -peer of France on the same day as Chateaubriand (17 August 1815).--B. - -[464] Louis Claude de Saint-Martin (1743-1803), known as the Unknown -Philosopher, the exponent of "pure spiritualism." His principal works -are _Des Erreurs et de la vérité_ (1775), the _Homme de désir_ (1790), -and the _Ministère de l'Homme-Esprit_ (1802).--T. - -[465] Jean Jacques Comte Lenoir-Laroche (1749-1825) held office for a -few days in 1797, was a Conservative member of the Senate (1799-1814), -was made a count by Napoleon, and a peer of France by Louis XVIII. -(4 June 1814). On the 31st of August 1817, this dignity was declared -hereditary in his family.--B. - -[466] The Abbé Joseph Faria (_circa_ 1755-1819), a native of Goa, and -a famous magnetizer. He plays an important part in _Monte Cristo_, in -which Dumas makes him die at the Château d'If. He died, in fact, in -Paris.--B. - -[467] Franz Joseph Gall (1758-1828), a German doctor (naturalized a -Frenchman in 1819) who invented the science of craniology, now known as -phrenology.--T. - -[468] _Mon portrait historique et philosophique_, M. de Saint-Martin's -posthumous work, printed in a very much mutilated and incomplete -form.--B. - -[469] The Polytechnic School was installed at the time at the -Palais-Bourbon, and removed to the building of the former Collège de -Navarre in 1804.--B. - -[470] Henri François Marquis de Saint-Lambert (1717-1803), author -of a poem, the _Saisons_, which secured his admission to the French -Academy (1770), and of several philosophical works of a pronounced -materialistic tendency.--T. - -[471] Élisabeth Françoise Sophie Comtesse de Houdetot (1730-1813), -_née_ de La Live de Bellegarde. She married Lieutenant-General the -Comte de Houdetot in 1748. She was the author of a few _Pensées_, -but owes her reputation rather to the lively passion with which she -inspired Rousseau and to her liaison with Saint-Lambert, which lasted -nearly half a century.--T. - -[472] - - "Woe be unto him to whom Heaven grants long days!"--T. - - -[473] - - "And love consoles me still! - But nought will e'er console me for love's loss."--T. - - -[474] Friedrich Melchior Baron Grimm (1723-1807), the friend of -Rousseau and Diderot, created a baron by the Duke of Saxe-Gotha, whom -he represented at the French Court from 1776-1790. In 1795 the Empress -Catherine II. made him her minister in Lower Saxony. His diverting -correspondence with both potentates was published in 1812-1813.--T. - -[475] Pierre Simon Ballanche (1778-1847) started life as a printer at -Lyons, where he published the second and third editions of the _Génie -du Christianisme._ He began to devote himself to literature in 1813, -wrote several notable works of Christian philosophy, and became elected -a member of the French Academy in 1844.--T. - -[476] The article on the _Législation primitive_ appeared in the -_Mercure_ of the 18 Nivôse Year XI. (8 January 1803).--B. - -[477] The Celestines were suppressed in 1778. They were founded in 1244 -by Pietro di Murrhone, the hermit Pope, who was elected to the Holy -See in 1294, when nearly eighty years of age, and assumed the title of -Celestine V. He was canonized in 1313.--T. - -[478] René I. Duke of Anjou, titular King of Naples (1408-1480), known -as Good King René, and father of Margaret of Anjou, wife of Henry VI. -of England.--T. - -[479] I omit two or three pages devoted mainly to quotations from -Petrarch.--T. - -[480] A terrible revolutionary massacre took place at Avignon in -1791.--T. - -[481] Petrarch immortalized the source of the Sorgue, which rises near -Vaucluse, and is known as the Fountain of Vaucluse.--T. - -[482] Alain Chartier (1386-1458), the "Father of French Eloquence," an -early French poet, and Secretary to the Household to King Charles VI. -Margaret kissed him on the mouth, as he lay sleeping, to show the value -she set upon the mouth from which so many fair speeches had issued.--T. - -[483] Margaret of Scotland (1418-1445), daughter of James I. King of -Scots, was married to the Dauphin, later King Louis XI. of France, as a -child, in 1428, but was not united to him until 1436. He made her very -unhappy.--T. - -[484] _Pro. L. Flacco_, XXVI. 36.--T. - -[485] JOB XXXVIII. II.--T. - -[486] Pytheas (_circa_ 350 B.C.), the famous Greek navigator, was a -native of Massilia or Marseilles.--T. - -[487] Jean Sire de Joinville (_circa_ 1223--_circa_ 1319) accompanied -St. Louis on the Seventh Crusade (1248), which took Cyprus in its -course.--T. - -[488] Berengarius I. and II., Kings of Italy and Marquises of Ivrea in -the tenth century.--T. - -[489] Louis II., Duke of Anjou and titular King of Naples (1377-1417), -father of Good King René.--T. - -[490] Jean Louis de Nogaret de La Valette, Duc d'Épernon (1554-1642), -one of the favourites of Henry III., was the head of a Languedoc family -and governor of Provence, of which Marseilles was one of the chief -cities.--T. - -[491] Henri François Xavier de Belsunce de Castel Moron, Bishop of -Marseilles (1671-1755), distinguished himself by his courage and zeal -during the plague which ravaged the city in the years 1720 and 1721, -and by his vigorous opposition to the Jansenistic doctrines.--T. - -[492] Vittorio Conte Alfieri (1749-1803), the Italian tragic poet, -secretly married in 1788 to the Countess of Albany, widow of Prince -Charles Edward Stuart. His _Memoirs_ were published in 1804.--T. - -[493] ALFIERI, _Memoirs_, chap. IV.--T. - -[494] The Roman amphitheatre or bull-arena at Nîmes was laid in ruins -by the English during their occupation in 1417.--T. - -[495] The famous Roman remains, in the Corinthian style.--T. - -[496] Jean Reboul (1796-1864), the baker-poet, author of _Poésies_ -(1836), the _Dernier Jour_ (1839), the _Martyre de Vivia_, a mystery -play, performed at the Odéon (1850), and the _Traditionnelles_ -(1857). He continued his trade throughout. In 1848 he was sent to the -Constituent Assembly as Royalist member for the Department of the -Gard.--B. - -[497] I omit a quotation from Reboul.--T. - -[498] Plautus spent some years in the service of a baker in Rome.--T. - -[499] Joseph Justus Scaliger (1540-1609), the Protestant philosopher, -Professor of Literature at the University of Leyden, a distinguished -philologist and founder of the system of modern chronology.--T. - -[500] 1622.--T. - -[501] The Canal des Deux-Mers, also known as the Canal du Midi or de -Languedoc, joins the Atlantic and Mediterranean.--T. - -[502] The project of the canal, first formed under Francis I., was -executed by Colbert's orders under Louis XIV. in the years 1666-1681. I -omit the quotation from Corneille.--T. - -[503] Paule Baronne de Fontenille (1518-1610), _née_ de Viguier, -nicknamed Fair Paule by King Francis I., who saw her as a child. She -married first the Sire de Bayganuet, and later Philippe de Laroche, -Baron de Fontenille. Her beauty, which she retained until extreme old -age, was so intense that her resolution to stay at home, in order to -save herself from being pestered with the admiration of the people, was -checkmated by a resolution of the _Capitouls_ or municipal officers of -Toulouse, who ordered her to show herself in public, with uncovered -features, two days in the week. _La Belle Paule_ was as virtuous as she -was beautiful.--T. - -[504] Henri II. Maréchal Duc de Montmorency (1595-1632), revolted -against Louis XIII., was defeated and taken prisoner at Castelnaudary, -and tried and beheaded at Toulouse.--T. - -[505] Claude Fauriel (1772-1844), a capable literary critic and -considerable linguist. He translated and published in 1837 the -_Histoire de la croisade contre les hérétiques albigeois, écrits en -vers provençaux par un poète contemporain_, from which the above -extract is taken.--T. - -[506] Simon Baron, later Comte, de Montfort (_d._ 1218), known as -the Machabee of his century, the leader of the crusade against the -Albigenses, of whom he put some 60,000 or more to the sword. Simon de -Montfort was killed at Toulouse, 25 June 1218.--T. - -[507] Jacques de Cujas (1522-1590), the famous jurist.--T. - -[508] Margaret of France, Duchesse de Berry, afterwards Duchess of -Savoy (1523-1574), married in 1559 to Emmanuel Philibert, Duke of -Savoy. Her subjects named her the Mother of the Peoples.--T. - -[509] Margaret of Valois, Queen of Navarre (1552-1615), married in 1572 -to the Prince of Béarn, afterwards Henry IV., and III. King of France -and Navarre.--T. - -[510] Gui du Faur, Seigneur de Pibrac (1529-1584), represented France -at the Council of Trent and accompanied Henry III. to Poland. His -_Quatrains moraux_ have been universally translated, and he also -published various political writings.--T. - -[511] Florio's MONTAIGNE, the Third Booke, chap. IX.: _Of Vanitie._--T. - -[512] Raymond IV. Count of Toulouse, Duke of Bordeaux, and Marquis of -Provence (_circa_ 1042-1105), one of the leaders of the First Crusade -(1096), and one of the first to storm the walls of Jerusalem.--T. - -[513] Louis Gabriel Léonce Guilhaud de Lavergne (1809-1880), a member -of the Right in the Chamber of Deputies, became "reconciled" to the -Republic, and was ultimately elected a Life Senator in 1875.--B. - -[514] Mademoiselle Honorine Gasc, the owner of an admirable voice, -married Herr Ol de Kop, Danish Consul at Bordeaux and Paris.--B. - -[515] Clémence Isaure, a wealthy lady of Toulouse, who restored the -Floral Games at Toulouse in 1490, and left large sums of money to the -town to provide for the expenses of annual competitions in the art of -poetry.--T. - -[516] Claude Emmanuel Luillier Chapelle (1626-1686) and François Le -Coigneux de Bachaumont (1624-1702), joint authors of the _Voyage_ and -other Epicurean pieces.--T. - -[517] - - "Ah, how happy one would be - In this fair seductive spot - If, by Sylvia ne'er forgot, - Loving to eternity, - With her he could cast his lot!"--T - - -[518] The Chateau Trompette has also since been destroyed.--T. - -[519] Joseph Spon (1647-1685), a French Protestant antiquarian.--T. - -[520] - -"Ah, why do they throw down those columns of the gods, -The work of the great Cæsars, a tutelary shrine?"--T. - - -[521] The Duchesse de Berry was imprisoned at Blaye Castle in 1833.--T. - -[522] In 1797 La Harpe had published his eloquent _Du Fanatisme dans la -langue révolutionnaire._--B. - -[523] This poem appeared in 1814, with the title, _Le Triomphe de la -Religion, ou le Roi martyr._--B. - -[524] - -"But if they ventured all, 'twas you permitted all: -The viler the oppressor, the more infamous the slave."--T. - - -[525] On the 9th of August 1797, La Harpe, then a widower and -fifty-seven years of age, married, at the instance of his friend M. -Récamier, Mademoiselle de Hatte-Longuerue, a very beautiful girl -of twenty-three. Her mother, a penniless widow, concealed from the -bridegroom any repugnance that Mademoiselle de Longuerue entertained -for the match; but three weeks after the marriage the latter declared -this repugnance to be invincible, and asked for a divorce. La Harpe -behaved like a gallant gentleman and a Christian: he was unable to lend -himself to the divorce, forbidden as it was by the religious law; but -he allowed it to take place, and forgave the young lady the outcry and -scandal produced by this rupture.--B. - -[526] JOB IV. 15, 16.--T. - -[527] DANTE, _Inferno_, XIV. 46.--B. - -[528] The Abbé Jacques André Émery (1732-1811), author of the -_Esprit_ (later _Pensées) de Leibnitz_, the _Christianisme de Bacon_, -the _Pensées de Descartes_, and many other works of a religious -tendency.--T. - -[529] Joseph Cardinal Comte Fesch, Archbishop of Lyons (1763-1839), was -the half-brother of Madame Bonaparte, Napoleon's mother. He was made -Archbishop of Lyons in 1802, a cardinal and Ambassador to Rome in 1803, -Grand Almoner of the Empire, a count, and a senator in 1805. Later he -refused the Archbishopric of Paris, opposed Napoleon's wishes with -regard to Pius VII. in 1810, was disgraced and sent into exile in his -diocese, where he remained till 1814. After the Emperor's abdication, -he retired to Rome, where he lived for twenty-five years, refusing to -surrender his archbishopric till the day of his death, 13 May 1839.--T. - -[530] In Auvergne.--T. - -[531] Talleyrand was Foreign Minister from 1796 to 1807.--T. - -[532] The Abbé Pierre Étienne de Bonnevie (1761-1849), a great friend -of M. and Madame de Chateaubriand, and a very witty priest.--B. - -[533] Anne Antoine Jules Duc de Clermont-Tonnerre, Bishop of -Châlons-sur-Marne (1749-1830). Before returning from the Emigration, he -had placed his resignation in the hands of the Sovereign Pontiff, in -accordance with the terms of the Concordat. Under the Restoration he -became a peer of France (1814), Archbishop of Toulouse (1820), and a -cardinal (1822).--B. - -[534] Pope Pius VII. (_vide infra_, p. 220) was a Chiaramonti. This -name is the Italian equivalent for Clermont.--T. - -[535] - -"Alps, ye have not by my hard fate been torn! -On you time leaves no sign; -The years have lightly by your brows been borne -That heavy weigh on mine. - -When first across your rugged walls I passed, -Dazzled with hope's bright rays, -Like the horizon, a future, boundless, vast, -Lay spread before my gaze." - -Italy at my feet, and all the world before me!"--T. - - -[536] Chateaubriand himself had probably not known "that" long, and had -learnt it from his young friend Jean Jacques Ampère, the only man in -France who at that time interested himself in Scandinavian matters.--B. - -[537] This "Fotrad, son of Eupert," is a little far-fetched. When the -author was writing this part of his Memoirs his mind was still full -of his long and learned researches preparatory to the writing of his -_Études historiques_ and his chapters on the Franks.--B. - -[538] Odet de Foix, Maréchal Vicomte de Lautrec (1485-1528), was -Lieutenant-General in Italy under Francis I., and subdued a part of the -Duchy of Milan.--T. - -[539] Francesco di Melzi, Duca di Lodi (1753-1826), was Vice-president -of the Cisalpine Republic, organized by General Bonaparte in 1797, -which in 1802 took the name of the Italian Republic. When, in 1805, it -became the Kingdom of Italy, with Napoleon for its King and Eugène de -Beauharnais for its Viceroy, Melzi was appointed Grand Chancellor and -Keeper of the Seals. In 1807 he was created a duke.--B. - -[540] Napoleon Charles Lucien Prince Murat (1803-1873), second son of -Joachim Murat, was born 16 May 1803. He was made a senator in 1852, and -a member of the civil family of the Emperor Napoleon III. in 1853, with -the title of Imperial Highness. He was Grand Master of Freemasons from -1852 to 1862.--B. - -[541] The feast of SS. Peter and Paul falls on the 29th of June.--T. - -[542] St. Francis of Assisi, honoured on the 4th of October.--T. - -[543] François Cacault (1743-1805), French Minister Plenipotentiary in -Rome from 1801 to 1803.--B. - -[544] The Chevalier Artaud de Montor, author of several works, of which -the most important is his _Histoire du pape Pie VII._--B. - -[545] Gregorio Luigi Barnaba Chiaramonti, Pope Pius VII. (1740-1823), -was elected to the Papacy in 1800. He signed the Concordat with -Bonaparte in 1801, crowned him Emperor in Paris in 1804, but -excommunicated him in 1809, after the invasion of the Papal States. -Napoleon had him kidnapped and taken to Savona, and thence to -Fontainebleau, where Pope Pius was kept in captivity until 1814. On -returning to his States he had the generosity to give an asylum to the -members of his persecutor's family.--T. - -[546] Ercole Cardinal Consalvi (1757-1824), Secretary of State to -Pius VII., and one of the greatest statesmen of the century. He too -signed the famous Concordat, and he too was imprisoned for some time by -Napoleon. He represented the Pope at the Congress of Vienna in 1814.--T. - -[547] Charles Emanuel IV., King of Sardinia (1751-1819), succeeded -his father Victor Amedeus III. in 1796, was obliged to surrender his -continental possessions to the French Republic in 1798, and retired to -Sardinia. In 1802 he abdicated and was succeeded by his brother Victor -Emanuel I. He ended his days in Rome as a Jesuit. Charles Emanuel IV. -became Heir in Line of the House of Stuart on the death of the Cardinal -of York (Henry IX.) in 1807, and appears in the Jacobite Calendars as -Charles IV. King of England.--T. - -[548] The Abbé Nicolas Silvestre Guillon (1760-1847) had been chaplain, -reader, and librarian to the Princesse de Lamballe. He hid himself -under the Terror and reappeared in 1801 to publish his _Recherches sur -le Concordat_, which caused him to be confined in the Temple for four -months. On returning from Rome he became Professor of Rhetoric at the -new University. In 1810 he was appointed to the Faculty of Theology in -Paris, and for thirty years professed sacred eloquence in that faculty, -of which he ultimately became the dean. He became chaplain to the -Orleans Family in 1818, and in 1831 Louis-Philippe named him for the -See of Beauvais, which, owing to a technical misdemeanour, he was not -allowed to accept. Having confessed his error, he was in the course of -the next year installed as Bishop of Morocco _in partibus._--T. - -[549] Marie Thérèse Princesse de Lamballe, _née_ Princesse de -Savoie-Carignan (1749-1792), was murdered at the prison of the Force in -September 1792.--T. - -[550] Antoine François Philippe Dubois-Descours, Marquis de La -Maisonfort (1778-1827), had returned from the Emigration at the -commencement of the Consulate, and was arrested and confined in the -island of Elba, whence he escaped to Rome. Under the Restoration, -he sat for a time in Parliament and represented France as Minister -Plenipotentiary at Florence.--B. - -[551] Louis François Bertin (1766-1841), usually known as Bertin the -Elder, to distinguish him from his brother Pierre Louis Bertin de Vaux, -together with whom he bought the _Journal des Débats_ in 1799, and -immeasurably improved the property. He was deprived of it in 1811, but -revived the paper in 1814, and vigorously supported the Restoration -until 1830, when he allied himself to Louis-Philippe and the new -monarchy.--T. - -[552] Pierre Joseph Briot (1771-1827) opposed Bonaparte in the Council -of the Five Hundred, but nevertheless obtained his appointment as -Government Commissary-General in Elba through the influence of Lucien -Bonaparte. On Napoleon's coronation as Emperor, Briot went to Italy, -and held various offices under Joseph and Joachim Murat, Kings of -Naples. He refused to accept titles or decorations from either of these -monarchs, which is probably the reason why Chateaubriand speaks of him -as "the Republican" Briot.--B. - -[553] The Princesse Pauline Borghèse (1780-1825), _née_ Bonaparte, -was Napoleon's second sister. She married General Leclerc in 1797, -and shortly after his death married Prince Camille Borghèse (1803), -from whom she soon separated, leaving Italy to reside at the Château -de Neuilly. She enjoyed the title of Duchess of Guastalla from 1806 -to 1814. In the latter year, she devoted herself wholly to Napoleon, -accompanying him to Elba, and placing her diamonds at his disposal. -In her later years, she became reconciled to her husband and lived -with him at Florence. Pauline Borghèse was one of the most beautiful -of women of her time. She sat to Canova for a nude Venus, and was -doubtless in no way shy of "making her toilet" before Chateaubriand.--T. - -[554] - - "I perish last and most wretched of all!"--T. - - -[555] - - "My days do not warrant the price of a sigh."--T. - - -[556] Madame de Sévigné's seat in Brittany.--B. - -[557] This house stood near the Trinità-del-Monte, and was known by the -name of the Villa Margherita.--B. - -[558] Jean Baptiste Louis Georges Seroux d'Agincourt (1730-1814), -a distinguished antiquarian and archæologist. He had been a -farmer-general under Louis XV., and amassed a huge fortune, which -he devoted to study and the cultivation of the arts. After visiting -England, Holland, Germany, and Italy, he settled in Rome, in 1778, -where he became intimate with the Cardinal de Bernis and Azara, the -Spanish Ambassador and art-patron, and compiled his great work, the -_Histoire de l'Art par les Monuments, depuis le IVe siècle -jusqu'au XVIe_, in 6 volumes folio, with 336 plates.--T. - -[559] ISAIAS XXII. 18.--T. - -[560] Barbara Juliana Baroness Krüdener (1764-1824), _née_ von -Vietinghoff-Scheel, a famous Russian mystic, was married, when fourteen -years of age, to Baron Krüdener, Russian Ambassador in Berlin. After -leading a very dissipated life, and publishing her well-known novel, -_Valérie, ou Lettres de Gustave de Linar à Ernest de G._ (1803), -she suddenly, in 1807, withdrew from the world, gave way to exalted -devotion, and pretended to have received from Heaven a mission for the -regeneration of Christianity. She travelled through Germany, visiting -the prisons, preaching in the open air, and converting men by the -thousand. In 1814, she came into contact with the foreign sovereigns -then in Paris, exercised a great ascendant over the Emperor Alexander, -foretold to him the return of Napoleon from Elba and his ultimate -fall, and inspired him with the idea of the Holy Alliance. She next -resumed her travels through Switzerland and the various States of -Germany, but her extraordinary influence began to be dreaded, and she -was expelled wherever she went. In 1822, she took refuge in the Crimea, -where she founded an institution for sinners and criminals, and died at -Karasu-Bazar on Christmas Day 1824.--T. - -[561] Joseph Michaud (1767-1839), author of the _Printemps d'un -proscrit_ and a History of the Crusades, and a member of the French -Academy. In 1795, he was condemned to death for professing Royalist -opinions in his paper, the _Quotidienne_, but succeeded in evading -execution of the sentence, which was revoked in 1796. He was appointed -Press Censor under the Restoration.--T. - -[562] The Comte Guillaume de La Luzerne, who in 1787 married Madame de -Beaumont's elder sister, Mademoiselle Victoire de Montmorin, was the -nephew of the Comte de La Luzerne, the ambassador, and son of César -Henri de La Luzerne, Minister of Marine under Louis XVI. Chateaubriand -appears to have confused the two.--B. - -[563] The Saint-Germains, husband (Germain Couhaillon) and wife, had -been for thirty-eight years in the service of the Montmorin family. -Chateaubriand afterwards took them into his own service, which they -never left.--B. - -[564] Auguste de Montmorin (_d._ 1793), a naval officer, had perished -in a storm when returning from the Mauritius.--B. - -[565] Annibale della Genga, Pope Leo XII. (1760-1829), succeeded Pope -Pius VII. in 1823.--T. - -[566] This tomb, which faces that of the Cardinal de Bernis at San -Luigi dei Francesi, was erected by Chateaubriand himself at a cost of -some nine thousand francs.--B. - -[567] And not in 1827, as is given in all the earlier editions of the -Memoirs. Chateaubriand spent the whole of the year 1827 in Paris. It -was not until 1828, under the Mortignac Ministry, that he was appointed -to the Embassy in Rome.--B. - -[568] _Greek Anthology_, VII. 346.--B. - -[569] M. de Fontanes' friendship goes much too far: Madame de Beaumont -knew me better; she no doubt felt that, if she had left me her fortune, -I should not have accepted it.--_Author's Note._ - -[570] Madame de Beaumont left her books to Chateaubriand in her will, -dated Paris, 15 May 1802.--B. - -[571] The words italicized are in English.--T. - -[572] Baron Matthieu de Staël, Madame de Staël's second son, who died -while still very young.--T. - -[573] In 1802, for her opposition to Bonaparte.--T. - -[574] Friedrich Wilhelm Christian Karl Ferdinand Baron von Humboldt -(1767-1835), the eminent Prussian diplomatist and philologist, and the -friend and correspondent of all the literary eminences of his time.--T. - -[575] JOHN XI. 44.--T. - -[576] The _Lettre à M. de Fontanes_, on the Roman Campagna, is dated to -January 1804, and first appeared in the Mercure de France, in its issue -of March 1804.--B. - -[577] Rome, December 1803.--B. - -[578] Cf. ROUSSEAU'S _Confessions._--T. - -[579] _Gen._ III. 22.--T. - -[580] Jean Henri Joachim Hostein Vicomte Lainé (1767-1835) displayed -considerable independence in the Legislative Body, of which he was a -member for the Department of the Gironde. Under the Restoration, he -was Minister of the Interior from 1816 to 1818. In 1823, he was made -a viscount and a peer of France. He had become a member of the French -Academy in 1818, although he had never produced any literary work, -properly speaking.--T. - -[581] _Martyrs_, V.--B. - -[582] Antonio Canova (1757-1822), the famous sculptor. In 1819 he was -sent to Paris as a special ambassador from the Pope.--T. - -[583] Now the Hôtel de France et de Lorraine, at No. 5, Rue de -Beaune.--B. - -[584] Not the 20th, as the previous editions and the manuscript of the -Memoirs have it. This was clearly a slip of the pen. The execution of -the Duc d'Enghien took place, not on the 20th, but on the 21st of March -1804.--B. - -[585] Louis Antoine Fauvelet de Bourrienne (1769-1834), private -secretary to Napoleon I. and Minister of State under Louis XVIII. The -Revolution of 1830 and the consequent loss of his fortune caused him -to lose his reason, and he died in a madhouse. His Memoirs, written by -himself and revised by M. de Villemarest were published in ten volumes, -1829-1831.--T. - -[586] _Mémoires de M. de Bourrienne_, vol. V. p. 348.--B. - -[587] Here again the manuscript gives the 20th of March in error.--B. - -[588] Chateaubriand's letter of resignation ran as follows: - - "CITIZEN MINISTER, - - "The doctors have just stated that Madame de Chateaubriand's - state of health is such as to raise fears for her life. As - it is absolutely impossible for me to leave my wife in these - circumstances, or to expose her to the danger of a journey, - I beg Your Excellency to approve that I return to you the - credentials and instructions which you have sent me for the - Valais. I also trust to your extreme kindness to persuade the - First Consul to accept _the painful reasons_ which prevent me - to-day from undertaking the mission with which he was pleased - to honour me. As I do not know whether my position requires - me to take any other steps, I venture to appeal to your usual - indulgence, Citizen Minister, for orders and advice; I shall - receive these with the gratitude which I shall not cease to - feel for your past kindnesses. - - "I have the honour to greet you respectfully, - - "CHATEAUBRIAND. - - "HÔTEL DE FRANCE, RUE DE BEAUNE, PARIS. - - "1 _Germinal Year XII_ [22 _March_ 1804]."--B. - - - -[589] Moreau had been arrested on the 15th of February; Pichegru on the -28th of February; and Georges Cadoudal on the 9th of March 1804.--B. - -[590] Jean Claude Clausel de Coussergues (1759-1846), a distinguished -magistrate and orator. Under the Restoration, he became a deputy and -a member of the Court of Appeal. He resigned after the Revolution of -1830.--B. - -[591] _Prov._ VI. 17.--T. - -[592] JOHN VIII. 43.--T. - -[593] Talleyrand's letter did not arrive until ten days after the -letter of resignation, and was thus worded: - - "12 _Germinal_ [2 _April_ 1804]. - - "CITIZEN, - - "I have brought to the notice of the First Consul the motives - which prevent you from accepting the Legation in the Valais, - to which you had been appointed. - - "The Citizen Consul had been pleased to give you a proof of - confidence. The same feelings of good-will have caused him - to learn with regret the reasons which do not permit you to - fulfill that mission. - - "I must also express to you the great interest which I - attached to the new relations which I should have had to - maintain with you; and to this regret, which is personal to - myself, I add that of seeing my department deprived of your - talents and services."--B. - - - - - - -BOOK III[594] - - -Death of the Duc d'Enghien--The year 1804--General Hulin--The Duc de -Rovigo--M. de Talleyrand--Part played by each--Bonaparte, his sophistry -and remorse--Conclusions to be drawn from the whole story--Enmities -engendered by the death of the Duc D'Enghien--An article in the -_Mercure_--Change in the life of Bonaparte. - - -Like the migratory birds, I am seized in the month of October with a -restlessness which would oblige me to change my clime, were I still -strong on the wing and swift as the hours: the clouds flitting across -the sky make me long to flee. In order to cheat this instinct, I made -for Chantilly. I have wandered on the lawn, where old keepers crawl -along the border of the woods. Some crows, flying in front of me over -broom, coppice and glades, have led me to the Commelle Ponds. Death -has breathed upon the friends who used to accompany me to the castle -of Queen Blanche[595]: the sites of these solitudes were but a sad -horizon, half-opened for a moment on the side of my past. In the days -of René, I should have found mysteries of life in the little stream of -the Thève: it steals hidden among horse-tails and mosses; reeds screen -it from sight; it dies in the ponds which it feeds with its youth, ever -expiring, ever renewed: those ripples used to charm me when I bore -within myself the desert with the phantoms which smiled to me, for all -their melancholy, and which I decked with flowers. - -Walking back along the hedges, now scarcely traced, I was surprised by -the rain; I took shelter beneath a beech: its last leaves were falling -like my years; its top was stripping itself like my head; its trunk -was marked with a red circle, to be cut down like myself. Now that -I have returned to my inn, with a harvest of autumn plants and in a -mood little suited for joy, I will tell you of the death of M. le Duc -d'Enghien while within sight of the ruins of Chantilly. - -* - -[Sidenote: Protest of Louis XVIII.] - -This death at first froze all hearts with terror; men dreaded a return -of the reign of Robespierre. Paris thought it was seeing again one -of those days which men do not see more than once, the day of the -execution of Louis XVI. Bonaparte's servants, friends and family were -struck with consternation. Abroad, though the language of diplomacy -promptly stifled the popular feeling, the latter none the less stirred -the hearts of the crowd. In the exiled family of the Bourbons, the -blow struck through and through: Louis XVIII. returned to the King of -Spain[596] the Order of the Golden Fleece, with which Bonaparte had -just been decorated; it was accompanied by a letter which did honour to -the royal mind: - - "SIR AND DEAR COUSIN, - - "There can be nothing in common between me and the great - criminal whom audacity and fortune have placed on a throne - which he has had the barbarity to stain with the blood of a - Bourbon, the Duc d'Enghien. Religion may prompt me to forgive - an assassin; but the tyrant of my people must always be my - enemy. Providence, for inexplicable reasons, can condemn me - to end my days in exile; but never shall my contemporaries - nor posterity be able to say that I showed myself in time of - adversity unworthy to occupy, till my last breath, the throne - of my ancestors." - -We must not forget another name connected with that of the Duc -d'Enghien: Gustavus Adolphus[597], since dethroned and exiled, was the -only one of the kings then reigning who dared to raise a voice to save -the young French Prince. He dispatched an aide-de-camp from Carlsruhe -bearing a letter for Bonaparte; the letter arrived too late: the last -of the Condés was no more. Gustavus Adolphus returned the ribbon of the -Black Eagle to the King of Prussia[598], as Louis XVIII. had returned -the Golden Fleece to the King of Spain. Gustavus declared to the heir -of Frederic the Great that, "according to the laws of chivalry, he -could not consent to be the brother-in-arms of the butcher of the Duc -d'Enghien[599]." There is an inexpressibly bitter irony in these almost -mad memories of chivalry, everywhere extinct, save in the heart of an -unhappy king for a murdered friend; honour to the noble sympathies of -misfortune, which stand aloof, not understood, in a world unknown to -men! - -Alas, we had undergone too many different tyrannies; our characters, -broken by a succession of hardships and oppressions, lacked sufficient -energy to allow our grief long to wear mourning for the death of -young Condé: gradually the tears dried up; fear overflowed with -congratulations on the dangers from which the First Consul had just -escaped; it wept with gratitude at having been saved by a so sacred -immolation. Nero[600], at Seneca's[601] dictation, wrote to the Senate -a letter of apology for the murder of Agrippina[602]; the Senators, -delighted, heaped blessings upon the magnanimous son who had not feared -to pluck out his heart by so salutary an act of parricide! Society soon -returned to its pleasures; it was afraid of its mourning: after the -Terror, the victims who had been spared danced, forced themselves to -appear happy and, fearing lest they should be suspected guilty of the -crime of memory, displayed the same gaiety as when they went to the -scaffold. - -[Sidenote: The Duc D'Enghien's arrest.] - -The Duc d'Enghien was not arrested point-blank and without -precautions: Bonaparte had had a report drawn up of the number of -Bourbons in Europe. In a council to which Messieurs de Talleyrand and -Fouché were summoned, it was recognised that the Duc d'Angoulême was at -Warsaw, with Louis XVIII.; the Comte d'Artois and the Duc de Berry in -London, with the Princes de Condé and de Bourbon. The youngest of the -Condés was at Ettenheim, in the Duchy of Baden. It was found that two -English agents, Messrs. Taylor and Drake, had conducted intrigues in -that quarter. On the 16th of June 1803 the Duc de Bourbon[603] warned -his grandson against a possible arrest by means of a note addressed -to him from London, which is still preserved. Bonaparte summoned the -two Consuls, his colleagues, to his side. He first bitterly reproached -M. Réal[604] for having left him in ignorance of what was being -planned against him. He patiently listened to the objections. The -one to express himself with the greatest vigour was Cambacérès[605]. -Bonaparte thanked him and took no further notice. This is what I have -seen in the Memoirs of Cambacérès, which one of his nephews, M. de -Cambacérès, a peer of France, has permitted me to consult with an -obligingness of which I retain a grateful recollection. The bomb once -thrown does not return: it goes where the engineer flings it, and -falls. To execute Bonaparte's orders, it was necessary to violate the -territory of Germany, and the territory was violated forthwith. The -Duc d'Enghien was arrested at Ettenheim. With him were found, instead -of General Dumouriez, only the Marquis de Thumery and some other -Emigrants of little note: this ought to have shown the mistake. The Duc -d'Enghien was taken to Strasburg. The beginning of the catastrophe of -Vincennes has been narrated by the Prince himself: he has left a little -road-journal from Ettenheim to Strasburg; the hero of the tragedy steps -before the curtain to recite this prologue: - - "Thursday 15 March, at Ettenheim, my house surrounded," says - the Prince, "by a detachment of dragoons and some pickets of - gendarmes, total about two hundred men, two generals, the - colonel of the dragoons, Colonel Chariot of the Strasburg - Gendarmerie, at five o'clock[606]. At half-past five, doors - broken in, taken to the Mill, near the Tile-works. My papers - taken away, sealed up. Taken in a cart, between two lines of - fusiliers, to the Rhine. Put on board a boat for Rhisnau. - Landed and marched on foot as far as Pfortsheim. Breakfasted - at the inn. Got into a carriage with Colonel Chariot, the - quarter-master of the gendarmes, a gendarme on the box and - Grunstein. Arrived at Strasburg, at Colonel Chariot's, - about half-past five. Transferred half an hour after, in a - hackney-coach, to the citadel. - - . . . . . . . . - - "Sunday 18, they come to fetch me at half-past one in the - morning. They do not give me time to dress. I embrace my - unhappy companions, my servants. I leave alone with two - officers of gendarmes and two gendarmes. Colonel Chariot - told me that we were going to the general of division, - who has received orders from Paris. Instead of that, I - find a carriage with six post-horses in the Church Square. - Lieutenant Petermann gets in beside me, Blitersdorff the - quarter-master on the box, two gendarmes inside, the other - out." - - -Here the ship-wrecked man, on the point of being engulfed, interrupts -his log. - -The carriage arrived at about four o'clock in the evening at one of the -barriers of the capital, where the Strasburg road ends, and instead -of driving into Paris, followed the outer boulevard and stopped at -Vincennes Castle. The Prince alighted from the carriage in the inner -court-yard and was taken to a room of the fortress, where he was locked -in and went to sleep. As the Prince was approaching Paris, Bonaparte -affected an air of calmness which was not natural. - -On the 18th of March, which was Palm Sunday, he went to the Malmaison. -Madame Bonaparte[607], who, with all her family, was informed of the -Prince's arrest, spoke to him of this arrest. Bonaparte replied: - -"You don't understand politics." - -Colonel Savary[608] had become one of Bonaparte's intimates. Why? -Because he had seen the First Consul weep at Marengo. Exceptional -men should distrust their tears, which place them beneath the yoke -of vulgar men. Tears are one of those weaknesses which enable an -eyewitness to make himself master of a great man's resolutions. - -[Sidenote: He is taken to Vincennes.] - -They say that the First Consul himself had all the orders for Vincennes -drawn up. One of these orders provided that, if the expected sentence -was a death sentence, it was to be executed on the spot. - -I believe this version, although I cannot vouch for its truth, since -those orders are missing. Madame de Rémusat[609], who was playing chess -with the First Consul at the Malmaison on the evening of the 20th of -March, heard him mutter some verses on the clemency of Augustus[610]; -she thought that Bonaparte was coming to himself again and that the -Prince was saved[611]. No, destiny had pronounced its oracle! - -When Savary reappeared at Malmaison, Madame Bonaparte divined the whole -misfortune. The First Consul had locked himself up alone for many -hours. And then the wind blew, and all was ended. - -* - -An order of Bonaparte, dated 29 Ventôse, Year XII[612], had decreed -that a military commission, consisting of seven members appointed by -General the Governor of Paris[613] should meet at Vincennes to try -"the _ci-devant_ Duc d'Enghien, accused of bearing arms against the -Republic," etc. - -In fulfilment of this decree, Joachim Murat on the same day, 29 -Ventôse, appointed the seven officers who were to form the said -commission, namely: - -General Hulin[614], commanding the Foot Grenadiers of the Consular -Guard, president; - -Colonel Guitton, commanding the 1st Regiment of Cuirassiers; - -Colonel Bazancourt, commanding the 4th Regiment of Light Infantry; - -Colonel Ravier, commanding the 18th Regiment of Infantry of the Line; - -Colonel Barrois, commanding the 96th Regiment of Infantry of the Line; - -Colonel Rabbe, commanding the 2nd Regiment of the Municipal Guard of -Paris; - -Citizen Dautancourt, Major of the Gendarmerie d'Élite, with the -functions of captain-judge-advocate. - -Captain Dautancourt, Major Jacquin of the Légion d'Élite, two foot -gendarmes of the same corps, Lerva and Tharsis, and Citizen Noirot, a -lieutenant in the same corps, went to the Duc d'Enghien's and awoke -him: he had but four hours to wait before returning to his sleep. The -judge-advocate, assisted by Molin, a captain in the 18th Regiment, -chosen as registrar by the aforesaid judge-advocate, examined the -Prince. - -[Sidenote: And examined.] - -_Asked_: His surname, Christian names, age, and birthplace? - -_Answered_: That his name was Louis Antoine Henri de Bourbon, Duc -d'Enghien, born 2 August 1772 at Chantilly. - -_Asked_: Where he had resided since he left France? - -_Answered_: That, after accompanying his relations, Condé's Corps -having been formed, he had served through the whole war, and that, -before that, he had been through the campaign of 1792, in Brabant, with -Bourbon's Corps. - -_Asked_: If he had not gone to England, and if that Power did not still -allow him a salary? - -_Answered_: That he had never been there; that England still allowed -him his pay, which was all he had to live upon. - -_Asked_: What rank he filled in Condé's Army? - -_Answered_: Commander of the Advance Guard in 1796; before that -campaign, as a volunteer at his grandfather's headquarters; and, ever -since 1796, Commander of the Advance Guard. - -_Asked_: If he knew General Pichegru, and if he had had relations with -him? - -_Answered_: "I have never seen him, to my knowledge. I have had no -relations with him. I know that he wished to see me. I am glad that I -never knew him, because of the base methods which he is said to have -wished to employ, if true." - -_Asked_: If he knew ex-General Dumouriez, and if he had had relations -with him? - -_Answered_: "Not with him either." - -* - -"Whence," continues the report, "were drawn up these presents, which -have been signed by the Duc d'Enghien, Major Jacquin, Lieutenant -Noirot, the two gendarmes, and captain-judge-advocate. - -"Before signing this present report the Duc d'Enghien said: - -"'I earnestly make a request to be granted a private audience of the -First Consul. My name, my rank, my way of thinking and the horror of my -situation make me hope that he will not refuse my request.'" - - -At two o'clock on the morning of the 21st of March, the Duc d'Enghien -was taken to the room in which the commission sat, and repeated what -he had said in examination by the judge-advocate. He persisted in his -declaration: he added that he was willing to make war, and that he -wished for service in the new war of England against France. - -"Asked whether he had anything to put forward in the plea of his -defense; answered that he had nothing more to say. - -"The president ordered the prisoner to withdraw; the council -deliberated with closed doors; the president took the votes, commencing -with the junior in rank; next, the president having given his opinion -last, the Duc d'Enghien was unanimously declared guilty, and the -Court applied Article ... of the law of the... thus worded.... and -in consequence condemned him to the penalty of death. Ordered, on -the demand of the captain-judge-advocate, that the present sentence, -after being read to the condemned man, shall be executed directly, in -presence of the different detachments of the corps of the garrison. - -"Given, concluded, and tried at one sitting, at Vincennes, on the day, -month and year as above, as witness our hands." - -* - -The grave having been "dug, filled up, and closed," ten years of -forgetfulness, of general assent and of unexampled glory sat down upon -it; the grass sprang up to the sound of the salvoes which proclaimed -victories, by the light of the illuminations which shed their lustre -over the pontifical coronation, the marriage of the daughter of the -Cæsars[615], and the birth of the King of Rome[616]. Only some rare -sympathizers rambled in the wood, hazarding a furtive glance at the -bottom of the moat in the direction of the lamentable spot, while a few -prisoners watched them from the top of the donjon in which they were -confined. Then came the Restoration: the earth of the tomb was stirred, -and with it men's consciences; each then thought it his duty to explain -himself. - -[Illustration: Duc D'Enghien.] - -M. Dupin the Elder[617] published his Discussion; M. Hulin, the -president of the military commission, spoke; M. le Duc de Rovigo -entered into the controversy by accusing M. de Talleyrand; a third -party replied on behalf of M. de Talleyrand; and Napoleon raised his -mighty voice on the rock of St. Helena. - -These documents must be reproduced and studied, in order to assign to -each the part due to him and the place which he should occupy in this -drama. It is night, and we are at Chantilly; it was night when the Duc -d'Enghien was at Vincennes. - -[Sidenote: M. Dupin's pamphlet.] - -When M. Dupin published his pamphlet he sent it to me with the -following letter: - - "PARIS, 10 _November_ 1823. - - "MONSIEUR LE VICOMTE, - - "Pray accept a copy of my publication relative to the murder - of the Duc d'Enghien. - - "It would have appeared long ago, had I not desired above all - to respect the wish of Monseigneur le Duc de Bourbon, who, - having been informed of my work, had communicated to me his - desire that this deplorable affair might not be disinterred. - - "But Providence having permitted others to take the - initiative, it has become necessary to make the truth known, - and after assuring myself that it was no longer insisted that - I should remain silent, I have spoken with frankness and - sincerity. - - "I have the honour to be, with profound respect, - - "monsieur le vicomte, - - "Your Excellency's most humble and obedient servant, - - "DUPIN." - -M. Dupin, whom I congratulated and thanked, revealed in his covering -letter an unknown and touching instance of the noble and merciful -virtues of the victim's father. M. Dupin commences his pamphlet thus: - - "The death of the unfortunate Duc d'Enghien is one of the - most afflicting events that ever befel the French nation: it - dishonoured the consular government. - - "A young prince, in the flower of his age, surprised by - treachery on foreign soil, where he was sleeping in peace - under the protection of the Law of Nations; dragged violently - to France; indicted before pretended judges, who could in - no case be his; accused of imaginary crimes; denied the - assistance of counsel; examined and sentenced behind closed - doors; put to death at night in the moat of the castle which - was used as a State prison; so many virtues unheeded, such - fond hopes destroyed, will ever stamp this catastrophe as one - of the most revolting acts that an absolute government ever - ventured to commit. - - "If no form was respected; if the judges were incompetent; - if they did not even take the trouble to mention in their - judgment the date and text of the laws upon which they - affected to ground their condemnation; if the unhappy Duc - d'Enghien was shot in pursuance of a sentence _signed in - blank._... and only made regular after execution! then we - have to do not only with the innocent victim of judicial - error; the thing assumes its true name: it is an odious - murder." - -This eloquent exordium brings M. Dupin to the examination of the -documents. He first proves the illegality of the arrest: the Duc -d'Enghien was not arrested in France; he was in no way a prisoner of -war, since he had not been taken with arms in his hands; he was not a -prisoner in the civil sense, for no extradition had been demanded; it -was a violent seizure of the person, comparable to the captures made -by the pirates of Tunis and Algiers, an inroad of robbers, _incursio -latronum._ - -The jurist proceeds to discuss the incompetency of the military -commission: cognizance of alleged plots hatched against the State has -never been conferred upon military commissions. - -Next follows the analysis of the judgment. - -* - - "The examination," continues M. Dupin, "took place on the 29 - Ventôse at midnight. On the 30 Ventôse, at two o'clock in the - morning, the Duc d'Enghien was brought before the military - commission. - - "On the minutes of the judgment we read, 'This day, the 30 - Ventôse, Year XII of the Republic, _at two o'clock in the - morning._' The words, 'at two o'clock in the morning,' which - were only inserted because it was in fact that time, are - obliterated on the minutes without being replaced by any - other indication. - - "Not a single witness was heard or produced against the - prisoner. - - "The accused 'was declared guilty!' Guilty of what? The - judgment does not say. - - "Every judgment that pronounces a penalty is bound to contain - a reference to the law by virtue of which such penalty is - inflicted. - - [Sidenote: A scathing indictment.] - - "Well, in this case, none of these forms has been fulfilled: - nothing in the official report bears witness that the - commissioners had _a copy of the law_ before them; nothing - shows that the president _read the text_ of the law before - applying it. Far from it: the judgment in its material form - affords the proof that the commissioners convicted without - knowing either the date or the tenor of the law; for, in - the minutes of the judgment, they have _left in blank_ the - date of the law, the number of the article, and the place - in which the precise words should have been quoted. And yet - it was on the minutes of a sentence framed in this state of - imperfection that the noblest blood was shed by butchers! - - "The deliberation must be secret, but the judgment must be - pronounced in public: again, it is the law that speaks. Now - the judgment of the 30 Ventôse certainly says, 'The council - deliberated _with closed doors_;' but it does not mention - that the doors were opened again, or intimate that the result - of the deliberation was pronounced in a public sitting. Even - had it said so, who would believe it? A public sitting at two - o'clock in the morning, in the donjon of Vincennes, while - all the issues of the castle were being guarded by gendarmes - d'élite! But the fact is that they did not even take the - precaution to resort to a lie: the judgment is silent on this - point. - - "This judgment is signed by the president and the six other - commissioners, including the judge-advocate; but observe - that the minutes _are not signed by the registrar_, whose - concurrence, however, is necessary to give them authenticity. - - "The sentence concludes with this terrible formula: - '_shall be executed_ FORTHWITH, _under the care of the - captain-judge-advocate._' - - "FORTHWITH! Cruel word, the work of the judges! FORTHWITH! - And an express law, that of the 15 Brumaire, Year VI, granted - the right of appeal for a new trial against any military - judgment!" - -Passing to the execution, M. Dupin continues as follows: - - "Examined at night and tried at night, the Duc d'Enghien - was also killed at night. This horrible sacrifice was to be - consummated in the dark, in order that it might be said that - all laws had been infringed, all, even those which prescribed - that executions shall take place in public." - -The jurist comes to the irregularities in the preliminaries: - - "Article 19 of the law of the 13 Brumaire, Year V, declares - that, after closing the examination, the judge-advocate shall - tell the prisoner to 'choose a friend as his defender.' The - prisoner shall have 'the power to choose that defender' among - every class of citizen present on the spot; if he declares - that he is unable to make that choice, the judge-advocate - shall make it for him. - - "Ah, no doubt the Prince had no _friends_[618] among those - who surrounded him; this fact was cruelly declared to him by - one of the abettors of that horrible scene!... Alas, why were - we not present! Why was the prince not allowed to make an - appeal to the bar of Paris! There he would have found friends - of his unhappiness, defenders of his misfortune. ... It was - apparently with a view to making the judgment presentable - in the eyes of the public that a new edition was drawn up - at leisure.... The tardy substitution of a second form of - judgment, in appearance more regular than the first (although - equally unjust), in no way detracts from the heinousness of - having put the Duc d'Enghien to death by virtue of a rough - draft of a judgment, hastily signed, and not even signed by - all the requisite parties." - -* - -Such is M. Dupin's luminous pamphlet. Nevertheless I do not know -that, in an act of the nature of that which the author examines, the -greater or lesser regularity holds an important place: whether the -Duc d'Enghien was strangled in a post-chaise between Strasburg and -Paris or killed in the wood of Vincennes makes no difference. But is -it not providential to see men, after long years, some showing the -irregularity of a murder in which they had taken no part, others -hastening, unasked, to the bar of public accusal? What, then have they -heard? What voice from on high has summoned them to appear? - -* - -After the great jurist, here comes a blind veteran: he has commanded -the Grenadiers of the Old Guard; what that means brave men know. His -last wound he received from Malet[619], whose powerless lead remained -lost in a face which had never turned from the fire. "Afflicted with -blindness, withdrawn from the world, consoled only by the care of his -family," to use his own words, the judge of the Duc d'Enghien appears -to issue from his tomb at the call of the sovereign judge; he pleads -his cause[620] without self-delusion or excuses: - -[Sidenote: General Hulin's pamphlet.] - - "Let there be no mistake," he says, "as to my intentions. I - am not writing through fear, since my person is under the - protection of laws emanating from the Throne itself, and - since, under the government of a righteous king, I have - nothing to dread from violence or lawlessness.... I write to - tell the truth, even in what may be to my own detriment! So I - do not pretend to justify even the form or the substance of - the judgment; but I wish to show under what a powerful union - of circumstances it was delivered; I wish to remove from - myself and my colleagues the suspicion of having acted as - party men. If we are still to receive blame, I wish also that - men should say of us: - - "'They were very unfortunate.'" - -* - -General Hulin asserts that he was appointed president of a military -commission without knowing its object; that when he arrived at -Vincennes he was no wiser; that the other members of the commission -knew as little; that M. Harel[621], the governor of the castle, told -him, on being asked, that he knew nothing himself, adding: - -"What can I do? I am nobody here now. Everything is done without my -orders or participation: another man is in command here." - -It was ten o'clock at night when General Hulin was relieved from -his uncertainty by the communication of the documents. The hearing -was opened at midnight, when the examination of the prisoner by the -judge-advocate had been finished. - - "The reading of the documents," says the president of the - commission, "gave rise to an incident. We observed that, at - the end of his examination before the judge-advocate, the - Prince, before signing, _wrote with his own hand some lines - in which he expressed a wish to have an explanation with the - First Consul._ One of the members proposed that this request - should be forwarded to the Government. The commission agreed; - but at the same moment General --------, who had come and - placed himself behind my chair, pointed out to us that this - request was 'inopportune.' Moreover, we found no provision in - the law authorizing us to suspend judgment. The commission - therefore proceeded, reserving to itself the right to satisfy - the prisoner's wishes after the trial." - -* - -So far General Hulin. Now, in a pamphlet by the Duc de Rovigo we read -the following passage: - - "There were, indeed, so many people that, as I arrived among - the last, I found it difficult to make my way to the back of - the president's chair, where I ultimately placed myself." - -And so it was the Duc de Rovigo who had "placed himself behind the -chair" of the president? But had he, or any other not forming one -of the commission, the right to interfere in the proceedings of the -commission, and to point out that a request was "inopportune"? - -Let us hear the commander of the Grenadiers of the Old Guard speak of -the courage of the young son of the Condés; he was a judge of it: - -[Sidenote: The Duc D'Enghien's courage.] - - "I proceeded to examine the prisoner; I must say that - he stood up to us with a noble confidence, spurned the - accusation that he had been directly or indirectly implicated - in a plot to assassinate the First Consul; but also admitted - that he had borne arms against France, saying, with a courage - and a pride which did not for a moment permit us, in his - own interest, to shake him on this point, 'that he had - supported the rights of his family, and that a Condé could - never re-enter France without arms in his hands. My birth and - convictions,' he added, 'make me for ever the enemy of your - government.' - - "His resolute confessions distressed his judges to the - utmost. Ten times did we give him the opportunity to revise - his statements, but throughout he persisted unshaken: - - "'I perceive,' he said at intervals, 'the honourable - intentions of the members of the commission; but I cannot - avail myself of the terms they offer me.' - - "And on being warned that military commissions judged without - appeal: - - "'I know that,' he replied, 'and I am quite aware of the - danger which I am running; I only wish to have an interview - with the First Consul.'" - -Does the whole of our history contain a more pathetic page? New -France sitting in judgment upon Old France, doing homage to her, -presenting arms to her, saluting her colours, even while condemning -her; the tribunal set up in the fortress in which the great Condé, -when a prisoner, cultivated flowers; the General of the Grenadiers -of Bonaparte's Guard seated face to face with the last descendant of -the victor of Rocroi, feeling himself moved with admiration before -the prisoner left without a defender and abandoned by the world, -questioning him while the sound of the gravedigger digging the grave -mingled with the young soldier's firm replies! A few days after the -execution, General Hulin exclaimed: - -"Oh, the brave young man! What courage! I should like to die like that!" - -General Hulin, after speaking of the "minutes" and of the "second -edition" of the judgment, says: - - "As to the second edition, the only true one, as it did not - convey the order _for immediate execution, but only for the - immediate reading of the judgment_ to the condemned man, - the immediate execution could not have been the act of the - commission, but only of those who took upon themselves the - responsibility of hastening the fatal execution. - - "Alas, our thoughts were engaged elsewhere! The judgment was - scarcely signed when I began to write a letter in which, with - the unanimous consent of the commission, I wrote to inform - the First Consul of the desire which the Prince had expressed - to have an interview with him, and also to entreat him to - remit a penalty which the difficulty of our position did not - permit us to elude. - - "At that moment a man, who had never left the council-hall, - and whom I would name at once did I not consider that, even - when defending myself, I ought not to become an accuser, - approached me and asked: - - "'What are you doing there?' - - "'I am writing to the First Consul,' I replied, 'to convey to - him the wishes of the council and of the condemned man.' - - "'Your business is done,' said he, taking the pen; 'this is - now my affair.' - - "I protest that I thought, as did several of my colleagues, - that he meant to say, 'This is my affair, to inform the First - Consul.' Taken in this sense, the reply left us the hope that - the information would be none the less conveyed. And how - could it have occurred to us that there was any one among us - _that had orders to neglect the formalities prescribed by - law?_" - - -The whole secret of this mournful catastrophe lies in this deposition. -The veteran who, in daily expectation of dying on the battlefield, had -learned from death the language of truth, concludes with these final -words: - - "I was talking of what had just happened, in the lobby - adjoining the hall in which we had deliberated. Separate - conversations were going forward; I was waiting for my - carriage, which had not been allowed to drive into the inner - court-yard, nor had those of the other members, thus delaying - my departure and theirs. We were closed in, none of us having - means to communicate with the outside, when an explosion was - heard: a terrible noise that resounded at the bottom of our - souls and froze them with terror and affright. - - "Yes, I swear, in the name of all my colleagues, that this - execution was not authorized by us: our judgment stated - that a copy of it should be sent to the Minister for War, - to the Chief Judge the Minister for Justice, and to the - General-in-Chief the Governor of Paris. - - "The order of execution could be given regularly only by - the last-named; the copies had not yet been dispatched; - they could not be finished before a portion of the day had - elapsed. On my return to Paris I should have gone in search - of the Governor, the First Consul, anybody! And suddenly - a dreadful sound comes to reveal to us that the Prince no - longer lives! - - "We did not know whether he who so cruelly hastened on - this fatal execution _had orders: if he had none, he alone - was responsible; if he had orders, the commission, knowing - nothing of those orders, the commission, forcibly and - illegally detained_, the commission, whose last wish was for - the Prince's safety, could neither foresee nor prevent their - effect. It cannot be accused of the result. - - "The lapse of twenty years has not allayed the bitterness of - my regret!... Let me be accused of ignorance, of error, I - acquiesce; let me be reproached with an obedience from which - to-day, under similar circumstances, I should certainly know - how to escape; with my attachment to a man whom I thought - destined to promote the happiness of my country; with my - loyalty to a government which I then considered lawful, and - which had received my oath; but let some allowance be made to - me, and also to my colleagues, for the fatal circumstances - under which we were summoned to decide." - -A weak defense, but you repent, general: peace be with you! If your -sentence became the marching-orders of the last of the Condés, you will -join the last conscript of our old mother-land in the advance-guard -of the dead. The young soldier will gladly share his couch with the -grenadier of the Old Guard: the France of Freiburg[622] and the France -of Marengo will sleep together. - -[Sidenote: Enter the Duc de Rovigo.] - -M. le Duc de Rovigo, beating his breast, takes his place in the -procession that comes to confess at the tomb. I had long been under the -power of the Minister of Police; he fell under the influence which -he supposed to be restored to me on the return of the Legitimacy: -he communicated a portion of his Memoirs to me. Men in his position -speak with wonderful candour of what they have done; they have no -idea of what they are saying against themselves: accusing themselves -without perceiving it, they do not suspect the existence of an opinion -differing from theirs, both as regards the functions which they had -undertaken and the line of conduct which they have observed. If -they have been wanting in loyalty, they do not think that they have -broken their oath; if they have taken upon themselves parts which are -repugnant to other characters, they believe that they have done great -services. Their ingenuousness does not justify them, but it excuses -them. - -M. le Duc de Rovigo consulted me on the chapters in which he treats of -the death of the Duc d'Enghien: he wished to know my mind, precisely -because he knew how I had acted; I valued this mark of his esteem and, -repaying frankness with frankness, I advised him to publish nothing: - -"Leave all this," said I, "to die out; in France, oblivion is not slow -in coming. You imagine that you will clear Napoleon of a reproach, and -throw back the fault upon M. de Talleyrand; but you do not sufficiently -exonerate the former, nor do you sufficiently accuse the latter. You -lay yourself open to attack from your enemies; they will not fail to -reply to you. Why need you remind the public that you were in command -of the Gendarmerie d'Élite at Vincennes? They were not aware of the -direct part which you played in this fatal deed, and now you tell them -of it. Throw the manuscript into the fire, general: I speak in your own -interest." - -Steeped in the maxims of the imperial government, the Duc de Rovigo -thought that those maxims could be as well applied to the legitimate -throne; he felt convinced that his pamphlet[623] would reopen the doors -of the Tuileries to him. - -It is partly by the light of this publication that posterity will trace -the outlines of the phantoms of grief. I offered to hide the suspect -who had come to ask shelter of me during the night; he did not accept -the protection of my house. - -M. de Rovigo tells the story of the departure of M. de -Caulaincourt[624], whom he does not mention by name: he speaks of the -kidnapping at Ettenheim, the prisoner's passing through Strasburg, and -his arrival at Vincennes. After an expedition on the coast of Normandy, -General Savary had returned to the Malmaison. He was summoned, at -five o'clock in the evening of the 19th of March 1804, to the closet -of the First Consul, who handed him a sealed letter to be carried to -General Murat, the Governor of Paris. He flew to the general, crossing -with the Minister of Foreign Relations on his way, and received the -order to take the Gendarmerie d'Élite and go to Vincennes. He went -there at eight o'clock in the evening, in time to see the members of -the commission arrive. He soon made his way into the hall where the -Prince was being tried, at one o'clock in the morning of the 21st, -and took a seat behind the president. He gives the Duc d'Enghien's -replies in about the same terms as they are given in the report of -the one sitting. He told me that the Prince, after making his final -explanations, with a quick movement took off his cap, laid it on the -table and, with the air of a man resigning his life, said to the -president: - -[Sidenote: His pitiful defense.] - -"I have nothing more to say, sir." - -M. de Rovigo insists upon it that this sitting was in no way secret: - - -"The doors of the hall," he declares, "were open and free to any who -cared to attend _at that hour._" - - -M. Dupin had already pointed out the confusion of this argument. In -this connection M. Achille Roche[625], who appears to write for M. de -Talleyrand, exclaims: - -"The sitting was in no way secret! At midnight! Held in the inhabited -portion of the castle, in the inhabited portion of a prison! Who, then, -was present at this sitting? Gaolers, soldiers, executioners!" - -* - -No one was in a position to give more exact details concerning the -moment and place of the thunder-clap than M. le Duc de Rovigo; let us -hear what he says: - -"After sentence had been pronounced, I withdrew with the officers of -my corps, who like myself had been present during the proceedings, -and joined the troops stationed on the esplanade of the castle. The -officer who commanded the infantry of my legion came and told me, with -deep emotion, that a piquet of men was required of him to execute the -sentence of the military commission: - -"'Give it,' I replied. - -"'But where am I to post it?' - -"'Where you may be sure to hurt nobody.' - -"For already the roads were full of inhabitants of the populous -environs of Paris on their way to attend the different markets. - -"After carefully examining the ground, the officer chose the moat as -the place where there was least danger of any one being hurt. M. le Duc -d'Enghien was taken there by the stairs of the entrance-tower, on the -park side, and there heard the sentence pronounced, which was put into -effect." - -* - -Below this paragraph, the author of the memorial appends the following -footnote: - -"Between the passing of the sentence and its execution, a grave was -dug, which gave rise to the report that it had been prepared prior to -the judgment." - -Unfortunately, we meet here with deplorable inaccuracies: - - "M. de Rovigo contends," says M. Achille Roche, M. de - Talleyrand's apologist, "that he obeyed orders! Who conveyed - to him the order for the execution? It appears that it was - a certain M. Delga, killed at Wagram. But whether it be M. - Delga or not, if M. Savary is mistaken in mentioning M. Delga - to us, no one, doubtless, to-day, will lay claim to the fame - conferred upon that officer. M. de Rovigo is accused of - having hastened the execution; it was not he, he replies: a - man who is now dead told him that orders had been given to - hasten it." - -The Duc de Rovigo is not well inspired on the subject of the execution, -which he describes as taking place in daylight; that would, besides, -have altered nothing in the fact, and would simply mean the absence of -a torch at the punishment. - -"At the hour of sunrise, in the open air," asks the general, "what -need was there for a lantern to see a man _at six paces!_ Not that -the sun," he adds, "was altogether bright and clear; a fine rain had -fallen all night, and a damp mist still retarded, in some degree, its -appearance. The execution took place at six o'clock in the morning: -this fact is witnessed by irrefutable documents." - -* - -[Sidenote: The execution.] - -But the general neither produces these documents nor tells us where to -find them. The course of the trial shows that the Duc d'Enghien was -tried at two o'clock in the morning and shot forthwith. Those words, -"two o'clock in morning," which originally appeared on the first -minutes of the sentence, were subsequently erased from the minutes. -The official report of the exhumation proves, by the depositions of -three witnesses, Madame Bon, the Sieur Godard and the Sieur Bounelet -(the latter had helped to dig the grave), that the death penalty was -effected at night. M. Dupin the Elder records the circumstance of a -lantern fastened over the Duc d'Enghien's heart to serve as a mark, or -held, with the same object, in the Prince's firm hand. Stories were -told of a heavy stone taken from the grave with which the victim's head -was crushed in. Lastly, the Duc de Rovigo is supposed to have boasted -of possessing some of the spoils of the sacrifice; I myself have -believed in these rumours; but the legal documents prove that they were -unfounded. - -From the official report, dated Wednesday the 20th of March 1816, -of the physicians and surgeons entrusted with the exhumation of the -corpse, it has been certified that the skull was broken, that "the -upper jaw, separated entirely from the facial bones, contained twelve -teeth; that the lower jaw, fractured in the middle, was divided in two, -and showed only three teeth." - -The body was lying flat upon its abdomen, the head being lower than the -feet; there was a gold chain around the vertebrae of the neck. - -The second official report of the exhumation (of the same date, 20 -March 1816), "the general report," states that with the remains of the -skeleton were found a purse in morocco-leather containing eleven pieces -of gold, seventy pieces of gold enclosed in sealed rolls, some hair, -shreds of clothing, remnants of his cap bearing marks of the bullets by -which it had been pierced. - -M. de Rovigo therefore took none of the spoils; the earth which had -held them has restored them, and has borne witness to the general's -honesty; no lantern was fastened over the Prince's heart, its -fragments would have been found, as were those of the perforated cap; -no heavy stone was taken from the grave; the fire of the piquet _at six -paces_ was enough to blow the head to pieces, to "separate the upper -jaw from the facial bones," and so on. - -To complete this mockery of human vanities were needed only the similar -immolation of Murat, the Governor of Paris, the death of Bonaparte in -captivity, and the inscription engraved upon the Duc d'Enghien's coffin: - -"Here lies the _body_ of the most high and mighty Prince of the Blood, -Peer of France, _died_ at Vincennes, 21 March 1804; aged 31 years, 7 -months and 19 days." - -The "body" was mere bare and shattered bones; the "high and mighty -Prince," the broken fragments of a soldier's carcase; not a word to -recall the catastrophe, not a word of blame or grief in this epitaph -carved by a sorrowing family; a prodigious result of the respect which -the century shows to the works and susceptibilities of the Revolution! -In the same way, no time was lost in removing all traces of the -mortuary chapel of the Duc de Berry. - -What a sum total of annihilation! Bourbons, who returned to so little -purpose to your palaces, you have busied yourselves with naught save -exhumations and funerals: your time of life was passed. God has willed -it so! The ancient glory of France perished beneath the eyes of the -shade of the Great Condé, in a moat at Vincennes: perhaps at the very -place where Louis IX., "to whom men resorted as to a saint.... seated -himself at the foot of an oak, and where all who had any business with -him came without ceremony and without hindrance from any usher or -others; and whenever he heard anything that could be amended in the -speeches of those who pleaded for others he most graciously corrected -it himself, and all the people who had a cause to bring before him -stood round him[626]." - -The Duc d'Enghien asked leave to speak to Bonaparte: "he had a cause -to bring before him;" he was not heard! Who, standing at the edge -of the ravelin, looked down into the moat upon those muskets, those -soldiers dimly lighted by a lantern in the mist and gloom, as in night -everlasting? Where was the light placed? Did the Duc d'Enghien stand -over his open grave? Was he obliged to step across it to place himself -at the distance of "six paces" specified by the Duc de Rovigo. - -There exists a letter written by M. le Duc d'Enghien, at the age of -nine, to his father the Duc de Bourbon; he says: - -"All the Enguiens[627] are _lucky_; the one[628] of the Battle of -Cerizoles, the one who won the Battle of Rocroi[629]: I hope to be so -too." - -Is it true that the victim was refused a priest? Is it true that he -only with difficulty found a hand willing to convey to a woman a last -pledge of affection? What did the executioners care for sentiments of -religion or love? They were there to kill, the Duc d'Enghien to die. - -The Duc d'Enghien had been secretly married, through the offices of -a priest, to the Princesse Charlotte de Rohan[630]: in those days of -a roving mother-land, a man, by the very reason of his elevation, -was impeded by a thousand political obstacles; to enjoy that which -society accords to all, he was obliged to hide himself. This lawful -marriage, to-day no more a secret, enhances the splendour of a tragic -doom; it substitutes the glory for the clemency of Heaven: religion -perpetuates the pomp of misfortune when, after the catastrophe has been -accomplished, the cross rises on the deserted spot. - -* - -[Sidenote: The Duc de Talleyrand.] - -M. de Talleyrand, according to M. de Rovigo's pamphlet, had presented -a vindicatory memorial to Louis XVIII.; this memorial, which I have -not seen, should have thrown light upon everything, and threw light -upon nothing. In 1820, when I was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary -to Berlin, I discovered in the archives of the embassy a letter from -"the Citizen Laforest[631]," addressed to "the Citizen Talleyrand," -on the subject of the Duc d'Enghien. This strongly-worded letter does -its author the more credit in that he did not fear to compromise his -career, without earning the reward of public opinion, since the step he -had taken was to remain unknown: a noble act of self-denial on the part -of a man who, through his very obscurity, had relegated to obscurity -the good which he had done. - -M. de Talleyrand took his lesson, and kept silence; at least, I found -nothing from him in the same archives concerning the death of the -Prince. The Minister of Foreign Relations had nevertheless, on the 2 -Ventôse, informed the Minister of the Elector of Baden "that the First -Consul had thought it necessary to order some detachments to proceed -to Offenburg and Ettenheim, there to seize the instigators of the -scandalous conspiracies which, by their character, place without the -pale of the Law of Nations all those who have manifestly taken part in -them." - -A passage from Generals Gourgaud[632], Montholon[633], and D. Ward, -brings Bonaparte upon the scene: - - "My Minister," says the latter, "strongly represented to - me the need for seizing the Duc d'Enghien, although he was - upon neutral territory. But I continued to hesitate, and the - Prince de Bénévent twice brought me the order for his arrest - for signature. Nevertheless I consented to sign it only after - convincing myself of the urgency of this act." - -According to the _Mémorial de Sainte-Hélène_[634], the following words -must have dropped from Bonaparte: - - "The Duc d'Enghien bore himself before the tribunal with - great gallantry. On his arrival at Strasburg, he wrote me a - letter; this letter was handed to Talleyrand, who kept it - until the execution." - -* - -I have no great belief in this letter: Napoleon probably turned into a -letter the request made by the Duc d'Enghien to speak to the conqueror -of Italy, or rather the few lines expressing this request which, before -signing the examination undergone before the judge-advocate, the Prince -had written with his own hand. Nevertheless, the fact that this letter -was not to be found should not lead us too vigorously to conclude that -it was never written: - - "I know," says the Duc de Rovigo, "that in the early days - of the Restoration, in 1814, one of M. de Talleyrand's - secretaries was incessantly making researches in the archives - under the gallery of the Museum. I have this fact from the - man who received the order to pass him in. The same thing was - done at the repository of the War Office for the documents of - the trial of M. le Duc d'Enghien, of which only the sentence - remained." - -[Sidenote: Talleyrand's complicity.] - -The fact is true; all the diplomatic papers, and notably the -correspondence of M. de Talleyrand with the "Emperor" and the "First -Consul," were transferred from the archives of the Museum to the house -in the Rue Saint-Florentin[635]; part of them were destroyed; the -remainder were put into a stove, to which they forgot to set light; -this was all that the Minister's prudence could do against the Prince's -indifference. The documents that were not burned were recovered; some -one thought it was right to preserve them: I have held in my hands -and read with my eyes a letter from M. de Talleyrand, dated 8 March -1804, and treating of the arrest, not yet carried out, of M. le Duc -d'Enghien. The Minister invites the First Consul to deal vigorously -with his enemies. I was not permitted to keep the letter, and I have -retained only these two passages in my memory: - - "If justice obliges us to punish vigorously, policy exacts - that we should punish without exception.................... I - will suggest to the First Consul M. de Caulaincourt, to whom - he might give his orders, and who would execute them with as - much discretion as fidelity." - - -Will this report of the Prince de Talleyrand one day be published in -full? I do not know; but what I do know is that it was in existence no -more than two years ago. - -There was a meeting of the Council for the arrest of the Duc d'Enghien. -Cambacérès, in his unpublished Memoirs, declares, and I believe him, -that he opposed the arrest; but, while recording what he said, he does -not say what the others replied. - -For the rest, the _Mémorial de Sainte-Hélène_ denies the entreaties -for mercy to which Bonaparte is said to have been exposed. The -pretended scene of Joséphine on her knees asking for pardon for the Duc -d'Enghien, clinging to the skirt of her husband's coat and allowing -that inexorable husband to drag her about, is one of those melodramatic -inventions with which our latter-day fabulists compose veracious -history. Joséphine did not know, on the evening of the 19th of March, -that the Duc d'Enghien was to be judged; she only knew that he had -been arrested. She had promised Madame de Rémusat to interest herself -in the Prince's fate. As this lady was returning to the Malmaison -with Joséphine on the evening of the 19th, it was noticed that the -future Empress, instead of being preoccupied solely with the perils of -the prisoner of Vincennes, frequently put her head to the window of -the carriage to look out at a general riding in her suite: a woman's -coquetry had carried elsewhere the thought which might have saved the -Duc d'Enghien's life. It was not until the 21st of March that Bonaparte -said to his wife: - -"The Duc d'Enghien has been shot." - -These Memoirs of Madame de Rémusat, whom I have known, contained -extremely curious details on the inner life of the imperial Court. The -author burnt them during the Hundred Days[636], and afterwards wrote -them anew: they are now no more than memories reproduced by memories; -their colour has faded; but Bonaparte is throughout exposed to the -light and judged with impartiality. - -Men attached to Napoleon say that he knew of the death of the Duc -d'Enghien only after the Prince's execution: this story would -seem to derive some value from the anecdote related by the Duc de -Rovigo concerning Réal's going to Vincennes, if the anecdote were -true[637]. Once the death had taken place through the intrigues of -the revolutionary party, Bonaparte recognised the accomplished fact, -so as not to irritate men whom he thought powerful: this ingenious -explanation is not admissible. - -* - -[Sidenote: Bonaparte's responsibility.] - -Now, to resume these facts, here is what they have proved to me: -Bonaparte wished the Duc d'Enghien's death; no one had made that death -a condition of his mounting the throne. To suppose this condition is -one of the subtleties of the politicians who claim to find occult -causes for everything. Nevertheless it is probable that certain -compromised persons did not without a certain pleasure see the First -Consul sever himself for good from the Bourbons. The Vincennes sentence -was an instance of Bonaparte's violent temperament, an outburst of cold -anger fed by the reports of his Minister. - -M. de Caulaincourt is guilty only of having executed the order for the -arrest. - -Murat has to reproach himself only with conveying general orders and -with not having had the strength to withdraw: he was not at Vincennes -during the trial. - -The Duc de Rovigo found himself charged with the execution; he probably -had secret orders: General Hulin hints as much. What man would have -dared to take upon himself to order the execution _forthwith_ of a -sentence of death upon the Duc d'Enghien, if he had not acted on an -imperative mandate? - -As to M. de Talleyrand, priest and nobleman, he inspired and prepared -the murder by persistently alarming Bonaparte: he feared the return -of the Legitimacy. It would be possible, by collecting what Napoleon -said at St. Helena and the letters written by the Bishop of Autun, -to prove that the latter took a very great part in the death of -the Duc d'Enghien. It would be vain to object that the Minister's -light-heartedness, character, and education ought to make him averse -to violence, that his corruption ought to take away his energy; it -would remain none the less a fact that he persuaded the Consul to the -fatal arrest. This arrest of the Duc d'Enghien on the 15th of March was -not unknown to M. de Talleyrand: he was in daily communication with -Bonaparte and conferred with him; during the interval that elapsed -between the arrest and the execution, did M. de Talleyrand, he, the -instigating Minister, repent, did he say a single word to the First -Consul in favour of the unhappy Prince? It is natural to believe that -he applauded the execution of the sentence. - -The military commission sentenced the Duc d'Enghien, but with sorrow -and repentance. - -This, conscientiously, impartially and strictly considered, is the -exact part played by each. My fate has been too closely connected with -this catastrophe that I should not endeavour to throw light upon its -dark places and to lay bare its details. If Bonaparte had not killed -the Duc d'Enghien, if he had brought me closer and closer to him (and -his inclination prompted him to do so), what would have been the result -for me? My literary career would have been ended; I should at one -jump have entered the political career, in which I have proved what I -could have done by the Spanish War; and I should have become rich and -powerful. France might have been the gainer by my association with the -Emperor; I should have been the loser. Possibly I might have succeeded -in maintaining some ideas of liberty and moderation in the great man's -head; but my life, ranking among those which are called happy, would -have been deprived of that which has constituted its character and its -honour: poverty, strife and independence. - -* - -Lastly, the principal accused rises after all the others; he brings -up the rear of the blood-stained penitents. Suppose that a judge -were to have brought up before him "the man named Bonaparte," as -the captain-judge-advocate had brought up before him "the man named -d'Enghien;" suppose that the minutes of the later examination copied -upon the former had been preserved to us; compare and read: - -_Asked_: His surname and Christian names? - -_Answered_: That his name was Napoleon Bonaparte. - -_Asked_: Where he had resided since he had left France? - -_Answered_: At the Pyramids, in Berlin, Madrid, Vienna, Moscow, St -Helena. - -_Asked_: What rank he filled in the army? - -_Answered_: Commander in the advance-guard of the armies of God. No -other reply issues from the prisoner's lips. - -* - -[Sidenote: Bonaparte defended.] - -The different actors in the tragedy mutually accused each other: -Bonaparte alone throws the blame for it upon nobody; he preserves his -greatness beneath the weight of malediction; he does not bow his head -but stands erect; he exclaims with the stoic, "Pain, I will never admit -that thou art an evil!" But that which, in his pride, he refuses to -admit to the living he is constrained to confess to the dead. This -Prometheus, with the vulture at his breast, who stole the fire from -heaven, thought himself superior to all things, and he is compelled to -reply to the Duc d'Enghien, whom he has made into dust before his time: -the skeleton, the trophy over which he stumbled, questions him and -dominates him by a providential dispensation. - -Personal attendance and the army, the ante-room and the tent had their -representatives at St. Helena: a servant, estimable for his fidelity to -the master he had chosen, had come to place himself near Napoleon as -an echo at his service. Simplicity repeated the fable, while giving it -an accent of sincerity. Bonaparte was "Destiny;" like the latter, he -deceived men's fascinated minds in _outward form_, but at the bottom of -his impostures this inexorable truth was heard to resound: "I am!" And -the universe felt its weight. - -The author of the most credited work on St. Helena sets forth the -theory which Napoleon invented for the murderer's benefit; the -voluntary exile accepts as Gospel truth an homicidal talk, with -pretensions to profundity, which would only explain Napoleon's life as -he wished to arrange it, and as he contended that it should be written. -He left instructions for his neophytes: M. le Comte de Las Cases[638] -learnt his lesson without being aware of it; the stupendous captive, -wandering along solitary paths, drew his credulous worshipper after him -by means of lies, even as Hercules hung men to his mouth by chains of -gold. - -* - -"The first time," says the honest chamberlain, "that I heard -Napoleon pronounce the name of the Duc d'Enghien, I turned red with -embarrassment. Fortunately I was walking behind him in a narrow path; -otherwise, he would certainly have observed my confusion. Nevertheless, -when the Emperor for the first time developed the whole of this -incident, with all its details and accessories; when he set forth -his various motives with his close, luminous, persuasive reasoning, -I must confess that the matter seemed to me gradually to assume a -new aspect.... The Emperor often resumed this subject, which gave me -an opportunity of observing in him certain very pronounced shades of -character. I was able on this occasion, and repeatedly, most distinctly -to see in him the private individual struggling with the public man, -and the natural sentiments of his heart contending against those of -his pride and of the dignity of his position. In the confidence of -intimacy, he did not show himself indifferent to the unfortunate -Prince's fate; but so soon as it became a question of the public, it -was quite a different thing. One day, after talking with me of the -untimely end and of the youth of this ill-fated man, he concluded by -saying: - -"'And I have since learnt, my dear fellow, that he was rather in my -favour; I have been told that he spoke of me with some admiration; such -is retributive justice here below!' - -"And the last words were spoken with so much feeling, all the features -of his face displayed such harmony with the words that, if he whom -Napoleon was pitying had at that moment been in his power, I am quite -sure that, whatever his intentions or his acts, he would have been -eagerly pardoned.... The Emperor used to consider this matter from two -very different points of view: that of common law, or the established -rules of justice, and that of the law of nature, or acts of violence...." - -[Sidenote: By the Comte de Las Cases.] - - "To us, in the intimacy of private conversation, the Emperor - would say that the blame in France might be ascribed to an - excess of zeal in those around him, or to private objects or - mysterious intrigues. He said that he had been precipitately - urged in this affair; that they had as it were taken his mind - unawares, hastened his measures, anticipated their result.... - - "'Without doubt,' he said, 'if I had been informed in time - of certain particulars concerning the Prince's opinions and - disposition; more still, if I had seen the letter which - he wrote to me and which, God knows for what reason, was - not handed to me until after he was no more, I should most - certainly have pardoned him.' - - "It was easy for us to see that it was the Emperor's heart - and nature alone which dictated these words, and that they - were intended only for us; for he would have felt humiliated - to think that any one could for an instant believe that he - was trying to shift the burden from his own shoulders, or - condescending to justify himself; his fear in this respect, - or his susceptibility, was such that, in speaking of it to - strangers, or dictating on this matter for the public, he - confined himself to saying that, if he had known of the - Prince's letter, he would perhaps have pardoned him, in - view of the great political advantages which he could have - derived from it; and when, writing with his own hand his last - thoughts, which he concludes will be recorded in the present - age and reach posterity, he states, with reference to this - subject, which he regards as one of the most delicate for his - memory, that, if it were to be done over again, he would do - it again." - -This passage, in so far as the writer is concerned, possesses all the -characteristics of the most perfect sincerity; this shines through -to the very phrase in which M. le Comte de Las Cases declared that -Bonaparte would have eagerly pardoned a man who was not guilty. But -the theories of the master are subtleties by aid of which an effort -is made to reconcile the irreconcilable. In making the distinction -between "common law or established justice, and natural law or the -errors of violence," Napoleon seemed to be content with a piece of -sophistry which in reality did not content him! He was unable to -subject his conscience as he had subjected the world. A weakness -natural to superior men and to little men, when they have committed -a fault, is to wish to represent it as a work of genius, a vast -combination beyond the understanding of the vulgar. Pride says those -things, and folly believes them. Bonaparte doubtless regarded as the -mark of the ruling mind the sentence which he delivered in his great -man's compunction: "My dear fellow, such is retributive justice here -below!" O truly philosophical emotion! What impartiality! How well -it justifies, by laying it to the charge of destiny, the evil which -has sprung from ourselves! A man nowadays thinks it an all-sufficient -excuse to exclaim, "After all, it was my nature, it was the infirmity -of mankind." When he has killed his father he repeats, "I am made -like that!" And the crowd stands open-mouthed, and they examine the -mighty man's bumps, and they recognise that he was "made like that." -And what care I that you are made like that! Must I submit to this -manner of being? The world would be a fine chaos if all the men who are -"made like that" were to take it into their heads to force themselves -one upon the other. Those who are unable to wipe out their errors -deify them: they make a dogma of their evil-doing, they turn acts of -sacrilege into religion, and they would think themselves apostates were -they to renounce the cult of their iniquities. - -* - -There is a serious lesson to be drawn from Bonaparte's life. Two -actions, both bad, began and caused his fall: the death of the Duc -d'Enghien and the war with Spain. It was vain for him to ride over them -with his glory: they remained there to ruin him. He perished on the -very side in which he thought himself strong, profound, invincible, -when he violated the moral law while neglecting and scorning his real -strength, that is, his superior qualities of order and equity. So long -as he confined himself to attacking anarchy and foreigners hostile to -France, he was victorious; he found himself robbed of his vigour so -soon as he entered upon the paths of corruption: the shaving of the -locks by Delilah is nothing other than the loss of virtue. Every crime -bears within itself a radical incapacity and a germ of misfortune: let -us then practise good to be happy, and let us be just to be able. - -In proof of this truth, observe that, at the very moment of the -Prince's death, commenced the dissent which, growing in proportion -to ill-fortune, decided the fall of the ordainer of the tragedy of -Vincennes. The Russian Cabinet, in reference to the arrest of the Duc -d'Enghien, addressed vigorous representantions against the violation -of the territory of the Empire: Bonaparte felt the blow, and replied in -the _Moniteur_ with a fulminating article bringing up the death of Paul -I[639]. A funeral service had been celebrated in St. Petersburg for -young Condé. On the cenotaph was read: - -"To the Duc d'Enghien _quem devoravit bellua Corsica._" - -The two mighty adversaries subsequently became reconciled in -appearance; but the mutual wound which policy had inflicted and -insult-enlarged remained in their hearts. Napoleon did not think -himself revenged until he came to sleep in Moscow; Alexander[640] was -not satisfied before he entered Paris. - -[Sidenote: European indignation.] - -The hatred of the Cabinet of Berlin arose from the same origin: I have -spoken of the noble letter of M. de Laforest, in which he told M. de -Talleyrand of the effect which the murder of the Duc d'Enghien had -produced at the Court of Potsdam. Madame de Staël was in Prussia when -the news from Vincennes arrived: - - "I was living in Berlin," he said, "on the Spree Quay, and - my apartment was on the ground floor. At eight o'clock - one morning, they woke me to tell me that Prince Louis - Ferdinand[641] was under my windows on horse-back, and asked - me to come and speak to him.... - - "'Do you know,' he asked, 'that the Duc d'Enghien has been - kidnapped on Baden territory, handed over to a military - commission, and shot within four-and-twenty hours after his - arrival in Paris?' - - "'What nonsense!' I replied. 'Do you not see that this can - only be a rumour spread by the enemies of France?' - - "In fact, I admit that my hatred of Bonaparte, strong as it - was, did not go so far as to make me credit the possibility - of his committing so great a crime. - - "'As you doubt what I tell you,' replied Prince Louis, 'I - will send you the _Moniteur_, in which you can read the - sentence.' - - "With these words he left me, and the expression of his - face was the presage of vengeance or death. A quarter of an - hour later, I had in my hands the _Moniteur_ of the 21st of - March (30 Pluviôse), which contained a sentence of death - passed by the military commission, sitting at Vincennes, - upon 'the man called Louis d'Enghien!' It was thus that - Frenchmen described the descendant of heroes who were the - glory of their country! Even if one were to abjure all the - prejudices in favour of illustrious birth which the return of - monarchical forms would necessarily recall, was it possible - thus to blaspheme the memories of the Battle of Lens[642] - and of Rocroi? This Bonaparte, who has won so many battles, - does not even know how to respect them; for him there is - neither past nor future; his imperious and scornful soul will - recognise nothing for opinion to hold sacred; he admits only - respect for the force in power. Prince Louis wrote to me, - beginning his note with these words: 'The man called Louis - of Prussia begs Madame de Staël,' etc. He felt the insult - offered to the Blood Royal whence he sprang, to the memory of - the heroes among whom he was longing to enroll himself. How, - after this horrible deed, could a single king in Europe ally - himself with such a man? Necessity, you will say. There is a - sanctuary in the soul to which its empire may not penetrate; - were this not so, what would virtue be upon this earth? A - liberal amusement, suited only to the peaceful leisure of - private men[643]." - - -This resentment on the part of the Prince, for which he was to pay with -his life, was still lasting when the Prussian Campaign opened in 1806. -Frederic William, in his manifesto of the 9th of October, said: - -"The Germans have not revenged the death of the Duc d'Enghien; but the -memory of that crime will never fade among them." - -These historical particulars, rarely observed, deserved to be so; -for they explain enmities of which one would be puzzled to discover -the primary cause elsewhere, and at the same time they disclose the -steps by which Providence leads a man's destiny from the crime to the -expiation. - -* - -Happy, at least, my life, which was not troubled by fear, nor attacked -by contagion, nor carried away by examples! The satisfaction which I -experience to-day at what I did then is my warrant that my conscience -is no illusion. More content than all those potentates, than all those -nations fallen at the feet of the glorious soldier, I turn again -with pardonable pride to this page, which I have retained as my only -belonging and which I owe only to myself. In 1807, with my heart still -moved by the murder which I have just related, I wrote the following -lines; they caused the _Mercure_ to be suppressed, and jeopardized my -liberty once more: - -[Sidenote: I utter my protest.] - - "When, amid the silence of abjection, no sound is heard - save that of the chains of the slave and the voice of the - informer; when all tremble before the tyrant, and when - it is as dangerous to incur his favour as to deserve his - displeasure, the historian appears, entrusted with the - vengeance of the nations. Nero prospers in vain, Tacitus - already is born within the Empire; he grows up unknown beside - the ashes of Germanicus, and already a just Providence has - surrendered to an obscure child the glory of the master of - the world. If the historian's part is fine, it is often - dangerous; but there are altars such as that of honour which, - although deserted, demand further sacrifices: the god is - not annihilated because the temple is empty. Wherever there - remains a chance for fortune, there is no heroism in trying - it; magnanimous actions are those of which adversity and - death are the foreseen result After all, what do reverses - matter, if our name, pronounced by posterity, makes one - generous heart beat two thousand years after our life[644]?" - -The death of the Duc d'Enghien, by introducing a new principle into -Bonaparte's conduct, marred the correctness of his intelligence: he -was obliged to adopt as a shield maxims of which he had not the whole -force at his disposal, for his glory and his genius incessantly blunted -them. He was looked upon with suspicion, with fear; men lost confidence -in him and in his destiny; he was constrained to see, if not to seek -out, men whom he would never have seen, and who, through his action, -considered themselves to have become his equals: the contagion of -their defilement was overtaking him. His great qualities remained the -same, but his good dispositions became impaired and no longer upheld -his great qualities: under the influence of the corruption of that -original stain his nature deteriorated. God commanded his angels to -disturb the harmonies of that world, to change its laws, to tilt it on -its poles. As Milton says: - - They with labour push'd - Oblique the centric Globe: some say, the Sun - Was bid turn reins from th' equinoctial road - Like distant breadth. . . . . - . . . . . . . . - Boreas and Cæcias and Argestes loud - And Thrascias rend the woods, and seas upturn[645]. - -Will the ashes of Bonaparte be exhumed, as were those of the Duc -d'Enghien? If I had been the master, the latter victim would still -be sleeping unhonoured in the moat of Vincennes Castle. That -"excommunicated one" would have been left, like Raymond of Toulouse, -in an open coffin; no man's hand would have dared to conceal beneath -a plank the sight of the witness to the incomprehensible judgments -and angers of God. The abandoned skeleton of the Duc d'Enghien and -Napoleon's deserted tomb at St Helena would be the counterpart of each -other: there would be nothing more commemorative than those remains, -face to face, at opposite ends of the earth. - -At least the Duc d'Enghien did not remain on foreign soil, like the -exiled of kings: the latter took care to restore the former to his -country, a little harshly, it is true; but will it be for ever? France -(how much dust winnowed by the breath of the Revolution bears witness -to it) is not faithful to the bones of the dead. Old Condé, in his -will, declares "that he is not sure which country he will be inhabiting -on the day of his death." O Bossuet, what would you not have added to -the masterpiece of your eloquence, if, when you were speaking over the -grave of the Great Condé, you had been able to foresee the future! - -* - -It was at this very spot, at Chantilly, that the Duc d'Enghien -was born: "Louis Antoine Henri de Bourbon, born 2 August 1772, at -Chantilly," says the sentence of death. It was on this lawn that -he played in childhood; the traces of his footsteps have become -obliterated. And the victor of Friburg, of Nördlingen, of Lens, of -Senef, where has he gone with his "victorious and now feeble hands"? -And his descendants, the Condé of Johannisberg and of Bentheim[646], -and his son, and his grandson, where are they? That castle, those -gardens, those fountains "which were silent neither by day nor by -night:" what has become of them? Mutilated statues, lions with a claw -or a jaw restored; trophies of arms sculptured in a crumbling wall; -escutcheons with obliterated fleurs-de-lis; foundations of razed -turrets; a few marble coursers above the empty stables no longer -livened by the neighing of the steed of Rocroi; near a riding-school, -a high unfinished gate: that is what remains of the memories of -an heroic race; a will tied with a rope changed the owners of the -inheritance[647]. - -The whole forest has repeatedly fallen under the axe. Persons of bygone -times have run over those once resounding chases, mute to-day. What was -their age, what their passions, when they stopped at the foot of those -oaks? O my useless Memoirs, I should not now be able to say to you: - - Qu'à Chantilly Condé vous lise quelquefois; - Qu'Enghien en soit touché[648]! - -Obscure men that we are, what are we beside those famous men? We shall -disappear never to return; you, sweet William, who lie upon my table -beside this paper, whose belated little flower I have gathered among -the heather will blossom again; but we, we shall not come to life again -with the perfumed solitary which has diverted my thoughts. - - - -[594] This book was written at Chantilly in November 1838.--T. - -[595] Blanche of Castile, Queen of France (1187-1252), daughter of -Alphonsus IX. King of Castile, wife of Louis VIII. King of France, and -mother of St. Louis IX. A hunting-lodge, at Chantilly, stands on the -site of the old Castle of Queen Blanche, near the Commelle Ponds.--T. - -[596] Charles IV. King of Spain (1748-1819). On the 18th of March -1808, forced by the revolt of Aranjuez, he abdicated in favour of his -son Ferdinand. Napoleon compelled him to withdraw this abdication and -to make a fresh one in favour of himself (5 May 1808), after which -Napoleon's brother Joseph was placed on the throne of Spain. Charles -IV. was sent to Compiègne and Marseilles, and died in Rome in 1819. On -the fall of Joseph, in 1813, Charles's son Ferdinand VII. ascended the -throne.--T. - -[597] Gustavus IV. (1778-1837) was the last Legitimist King of Sweden. -A revolt of the nobles in 1809 compelled him to abdicate, and his -uncle, the Duke of Sudermania, was proclaimed King with the title of -Charles XIII., ultimately adopting General Bernadotte as his heir. -Gustavus spent the remaining years of his life in Germany, Holland, and -Switzerland, under the names of Count of Holstein-Gottorp and Colonel -Gustawson. He died at Saint-Gall in 1837.--T. - -[598] Frederic William III. King of Prussia (1770-1840), son of -Frederic William II. and grand-nephew to Frederic the Great. He -was married to the beautiful Queen Louisa, daughter of the Duke of -Mecklenburg-Strelitz.--T. - -[599] Bonaparte had the Black Eagle.--_Authors Note._ - -[600] Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus Nero, later Nero Claudius Cæsar -Drusus Germanicus, Roman Emperor (37-68), son of Domitius Ahenobarbus -and Agrippina, by whose uncle and third husband, the Emperor Claudius, -he was adopted, succeeding him, to the exclusion of the natural heir, -Britannicus, in 54.--T. - -[601] Lucius Annæus Seneca (3-65), the Stoic philosopher, was Nero's -tutor and principal minister. He is accused, not only of writing the -apology for the murder of Agrippina, but of approving the poisoning of -Britannicus in 55.--T. - -[602] Julia Agrippina (_circa_ 15-59 or 60), daughter of the Emperor -Germanicus and of Agrippina, grand-daughter of Augustus. She poisoned -Claudius to secure the Empire for Nero, her son by her first husband, -and was herself murdered by Nero's orders in 59.--T. - -[603] The Duc de Bourbon was the Due d'Enghien's father, not his -grandfather. The grandfather was the Prince de Condé, the writer of the -letter in question. Chateaubriand's mistake is due to a slip of the -pen, which we occasionally find in more than one other historian of the -period.--B. - -[604] Pierre François Comte Réal (1765-1834) was an attorney at the -Châtelet at the outbreak of the Revolution. He attached himself to -Danton and became Public Accuser and Solicitor to the Commune of Paris. -He was imprisoned by Robespierre and released on the 9 Thermidor. -Bonaparte made him a State Councillor and appointed him a deputy at the -Ministry of Police. In 1804 Réal discovered the conspiracy of Georges -Cadoudal. He was made Prefect of Police during the Hundred Days, and -was exiled under the Second Restoration. He returned to Paris in -1818.--T. - -[605] Jean Jacques Régis de Cambacérès (1753-1824), an eminent jurist -and a moderate revolutionary, who voted for the reprieve at the trial -of Louis XVI. He was Minister of Justice under the Directory. Bonaparte -chose him as Second Consul in 1799, with Lebrun as Third Consul. When -Napoleon became Emperor he appointed Cambacérès Arch-chancellor and -created him a Prince of the Empire and Duke of Parma. Cambacérès is -responsible for the greater portion of the Code civil. He was exiled by -the Bourbons and recalled in 1818.--T. - -[606] In the morning.--_Author's Note._ - -[607] Madame Joséphine Bonaparte (1763-1814), _née_ Tascher de La -Pagerie, and widow of Alexandre Vicomte de Beauharnais, who was -guillotined in 1794. She married Bonaparte in 1796, was crowned Empress -in 1804, and was divorced in 1809.--T. - -[608] Anne Jean Marie René Savary, Duc de Rovigo (1774-1833), was in -1804 Colonel of the Gendarmerie d'Élite, in which capacity he was -charged with the execution of the sentence on the Duc d'Enghien. At the -battle of Marengo (14 June 1800) he was aide-de-camp to General Desaix, -and was by his side when that general was shot through the heart. He -became a general of brigade in 1803, a general of division in 1805, a -duke in 1808, and succeeded Fouché as Minister of Police in 1810. He -followed the Emperor on to the _Bellérophon_ in 1815, but was separated -from him and kept a prisoner for seven months in Malta, where he drew -up the plan of his Memoirs (published in 1828). On the Restoration, -he was sentenced to death in his absence. He returned to France in -1819 in order to obtain the quashing of the sentence. A pamphlet -which he subsequently wrote upon the death of the Duc d'Enghien, -accusing Talleyrand of complicity, brought about his disgrace, and he -was obliged to retire to Rome. He returned once more to France after -the Revolution of 1830, and in 1831 received from Louis-Philippe the -command-in-chief of the Army of Algiers, which he retained till his -death in 1833.--T. - -[609] Claire Élisabeth Jeanne Comtesse de Rémusat (1780-1821), _née_ -Gravier de Vergennes, wife of the Comte de Rémusat, Chamberlain to -Napoleon and Superintendent of Theatres, and lady-in-waiting to the -Empress Joséphine. She was the author of an _Essai sur l'éducation des -femmes_ (1823) and of some excellent Memoirs (1880).--T. - -[610] Cf. CORNEILLE, _Cinna_, Act II. Sc. I.--T. - -[611] Cf. _Mémoires de Madame de Rémusat_, vol. I.--B. - -[612] 20 March 1804.--B. - -[613] Murat.--_Author's Note._ - -[614] Lieutenant-General Pierre Auguste Comte Hulin (1758-1841) was -one of the foremost among the conquerors of the Bastille on the 14th -of July 1789, and at the end of the same year was made Commander of -the National Guard of Paris. He accompanied Bonaparte to Italy as -Adjutant-General, was appointed Commander of Milan in 1797 and 1798, -and in 1803 became a general of division and Commander of the Consular -Guard. He took part in the several German campaigns, and was selected -for the command of the places around Vienna and of Berlin (1806). He -was at the head of the armed forces in Paris when the Malet conspiracy -broke out in 1812, and caused the plot to fail, having his lower -jaw shattered by Malet with a pistol-shot. Hulin lost the command -of the City of Paris on the return of the Bourbons, and was obliged -to leave France in 1816. He returned in 1819, and ended his days in -retirement.--T. - -[615] Marie Louise Empress of the French (1791-1847), daughter of -Francis I. Emperor of Austria, and married to Napoleon in 1810. She -left him after his first abdication, protested against his restoration -and, in reward for her docility, received the Duchy of Parma at -the hands of the Congress of Vienna. There she spent the remainder -of her days, living with the Count von Niepperg, whom she married -morganatically after Napoleon's death.--T. - -[616] Francis Charles Joseph Napoleon Duke of Reichstadt (1811-1832), -son of Napoleon and Marie Louise, was proclaimed King of Rome at his -birth. On his father's abdication there was an idea of proclaiming -him Emperor, as Napoleon II.; but this was speedily abandoned and he -was brought up at the Court of his maternal grandfather, who in 1818 -gave him the title of Duke of Reichstadt, together with a regiment of -cavalry.--T. - -[617] André Marie Jean Jacques Dupin (1783-1865), known as Dupin the -Elder, was a deputy from 1827 to 1848, a member of the Constituent -Assembly of 1848 and of the Legislative Assembly of 1849, a senator of -the Second Empire (1857), and Attorney-General to the Court of Appeal -from 1830 to 1852. He resigned the latter post in order to dissociate -himself from the decrees confiscating the possessions of the Orleans -Family; but resumed it five years later when summoned to the Imperial -Senate. He had been a member of the French Academy since 1832. The -pamphlet to which Chateaubriand refers was published in 1823, and -entitled, _Pièces judiciaires et historiques relatives au procès du -duc dEnghien, avec le Journal de ce prince depuis l'instant de son -arrestation; précédées de la Discussion des actes de la commission -militaire instituée en l'an XII, par le gouvernement consulaire, pour -juger le duc d'Enghien, par l'auteur de l'opuscule intitulé: "De la -Libre Défense des accusés._"--B. - -[618] An allusion to the abominable reply said to have been made to M. -le Duc d'Enghien.--_Author's Note._ - -The Duke is reported to have cried, "Shoot straight, my friends," to -the soldiers about to fire their volley. - -"You have no friends here," replied the officer in command!--T. - -[619] General Claude François de Malet (1754-1812) played a -distinguished part in the campaigns of the Revolution, became a general -of brigade in 1799, and was appointed Governor of Pavia by Masséna -in 1805. His republicanism, however, made him suspect in the eyes of -Napoleon, who had him imprisoned in Paris in 1808. Availing himself -of the facilities awarded him by his transfer to a mad-house, he -organized a conspiracy against the Empire, involving Generals Guidal -and Lahorie in the plot. He escaped from prison on the night of the -23rd of October 1812, rapidly visited the Paris barracks, spreading the -news of Napoleon's death, and was on the point of succeeding, when the -resistance of General Hulin, who was at the head of the Staff, caused -the whole plot to fail. Malet was brought before a military commission -and shot on the 29th of October 1812.--T - -[620] General Hulin's pamphlet, published in 1823, is entitled, -_Explications offertes aux hommes impartiaux par M. le Comte Hulin, au -sujet de la Commission militaire institute en l'an XII pour juger le -duc d'Enghien._--B. - -[621] Jacques Harel (_b._ 1755) had received the command of Vincennes -Castle in 1800 as his reward for his services in betraying his -fellow-conspirators in a plot to kill the First Consul. The story is -told at length in the Memoirs of M. de Bourrienne.--B. - -[622] Freiburg-in-Breisgau (Baden), where the great Condé defeated the -Imperial forces in 1644.--T. - -[623] Savary's pamphlet appeared in the same year as General Hulin's -and M. Dupin's, and was entitled, _Extrait des Mémoires du duc de -Rovigo, concernant le catastrophe de M. le duc d'Enghien._--B. - -[624] Armand Augustin Louis Marquis de Caulaincourt, Duc de Vicence -(1773-1827), had in his youth been a page to the Prince de Condé. He -took part in nearly all the wars of the Revolution, and was made Master -of the Horse by Napoleon when the latter assumed the imperial crown, a -general of division, a duke (1805), and Ambassador to Russia (1807). -In 1813, he became Foreign Minister, and represented France at the -Congress of Châtillon in 1814.--T. - -[625] Achille Roche (1801-1834), a publicist and secretary to -Benjamin Constant. The work from which Chateaubriand quotes is a -pamphlet entitled, _De Messieurs le duc de Rovigo et le prince de -Talleyrand._--B. - -[626] JOINVILLE, _Memoirs of Louis IX., King of France_, Part I.--T. - -[627] Misspelt as printed: _Enguiens_ for Enghien, proper names not -taking the plural in French.--T. - -[628] François de Bourbon-Vendôme, Comte d'Enghien (1519-1545), brother -of Anthony de Bourbon, King of Navarre, defeated the Imperial forces at -Cérisoles in 1544--T. - -[629] The Great Condé was Duc d'Enghien when he defeated the Spaniards -at Rocroi in 1643.--T. - -[630] The Princesse Charlotte de Rohan-Rochefort. The Prince de Condé -refused to acknowledge the marriage, although he himself had married a -Rohan. After the death of the Duc d'Enghien, the Duc de Bourbon tardily -offered to acknowledge his son's marriage, but the Princess refused the -offer. Nevertheless she visited the Duchesse de Bourbon in the early -days of the Restoration, when the latter addressed her as "my daughter" -(_Cf._ MURET, _Histoire de l'armée de Condé_). The Duchess of Madrid -(_de jure_ Queen of Spain and France), _née_ Princesse Marie Berthe de -Rohan, and married to the Duke of Madrid in 1894, is a member of the -same (Rochefort) branch of the Rohan family. Their motto is, _Roi ne -puis, prince ne daigne, Rohan suis._--T. - -[631] Antoine René Charles Mathurin Comte de Laforest (1756-1846) -entered the diplomatic service under Louis XVI. He was Consul-General -in the United States, Secretary of Legation to Joseph Bonaparte at the -Congress of Lunéville, and Chargé-d'affaires Extraordinary at Munich -and Ratisbon. He was Ambassador in Berlin from 1805 to 1808, and in -Madrid from 1808 to 1813. Napoleon created him a count in 1808. On -the fall of the Empire, in 1814, he directed the Ministry of Foreign -Affairs for six weeks _ad interim_, and was charged by the King to -prepare the Treaty of Paris. Under the Second Restoration, he was sent -as Minister Plenipotentiary to various Powers. He was made a peer of -France in 1819, and a minister of State and privy councillor in 1825. -He lost his places and dignities at the Revolution of 1830.--B. - -[632] Gaspard Baron Gourgaud (1783-1852), a distinguished artillery -officer who had twice saved Napoleon's life, at Moscow and Brienne. He -accompanied Napoleon to St. Helena, where he remained until 1817, and -where he wrote the _Campagne de 1815_, published in 1818, which was -the cause of his being struck off the roll of the French army by Louis -XVIII. Louis-Philippe reinstated him and made him his aide-de-camp, -and in 1840 he accompanied the Prince de Joinville to St. Helena to -bring back the remains of Napoleon. On his return, he was raised -to the peerage. Gourgaud is part-author, together with Montholon, -of the _Mémoires pour servir à l'histoire de France sous Napoléon_ -(1823-1825), from which the above quotation is taken.--T. - -[633] Charles Tristan Comte de Montholon (1782-1853), Gourgaud's -collaborator, was one of Napoleon's bravest and most reckless officers. -He too accompanied Napoleon to St Helena, remained with him to the day -of his death, and was one of his executors and the depositary of his -manuscripts, which were subsequently published in eight volumes under -the title given in the preceding note. In 1840, Montholon took part -in Louis Napoleon's futile descent at Boulogne, and suffered a short -confinement.--T. - -[634] LAS CASES, _Mémorial de Sainte-Hélène_ (8 volumes, 1822-1824).--T. - -[635] Talleyrand's residence.--T. - -[636] Lest they should compromise her friends. See M. Paul de Rémusat's -Preface to the Memoirs.--T. - -[637] This is the anecdote: - -"After the execution of the sentence," says the Duc de Rovigo, "I took -the road back to Paris. I was approaching the barriers, when I met -M. Réal going to Vincennes in the dress of a councillor of State. I -stopped him to ask him where he was going: - -"'To Vincennes,' he replied; 'I received orders yesterday to repair -there to examine the Duc d'Enghien.' - -"I told him what had just happened, and he appeared as much astonished -at what I had told him as I at what he had told me. I began to ponder. -My meeting with the Minister of Foreign Relations at General Murat's -recurred to my mind, and I began to doubt whether the death of the Duc -d'Enghien was the work of the First Consul."--B. - -[638] Emmanuel Augustin Dieudonné Comte de Las Cases (1766-1842) was -a lieutenant in the navy when he emigrated in 1789 and joined Condé's -Army. He returned to France after the 18 Brumaire, and devoted himself -for several years to literary work, until in 1809 he enlisted as a -volunteer to assist in repelling the English, who were threatening -a descent upon Flushing. He attracted the notice of Napoleon, who -made him one of his chamberlains, and he was one of the four men who -followed Napoleon into exile. He remained eighteen months at St. -Helena, gathering the talk that fell from Napoleon's lips into his -famous _Mémorial de Sainte-Hélène_; but losing favour with Sir Hudson -Lowe, he was removed from Napoleon's service, taken to the Cape of -Good Hope, and thence to Europe, where he was kept for some time in -confinement. Las Cases was not allowed to return to France until after -the Emperor's death. In 1830 he was returned for the Seine to the -Chamber of Deputies, where he sat in the Opposition.--T. - -[639] Paul I. Emperor of Russia (1754-1801), son of Catherine II. and -Peter III. On the death of Catherine in 1796, he placed himself at the -head of the second coalition against France; but in 1799, suddenly -smitten with a passionate admiration for Bonaparte, he contracted an -alliance with him, and paved the way for the treaties of Lunéville and -Amiens. He was strangled by some of his nobles on the 23rd of March -1801.--T. - -[640] Alexander I. Emperor of Russia (1777-1825), was at war with -Napoleon from 1805 to 1807, and in alliance with him from 1807 to -1812, when war broke out anew. The retreat from Moscow took place in -the latter year, and Alexander entered Paris at the head of the allied -forces on the 31st of March 1814.--T. - -[641] Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia (1772-1806), son of Prince -Ferdinand, brother to Frederic the Great, was killed in 1806 at the -Battle of Saalfeld.--T. - -[642] The Great Condé defeated the Imperial forces at Lens in 1648.--T. - -[643] MADAME DE STAËL, _Dix années d'exil._--B. - -[644] These lines are taken from the article, published by -Chateaubriand in the _Mercure_ of 4 July 1807, on M. Alexandre de -Laborde's _Voyage pittoresque et historique en Espagne._--B. - -[645] MILTON, _Paradise Lost_, X., 670-673, 698-699.--T. - -[646] The Prince de Condé co-operated with the Prince de Soubise in -winning the Battle of Johannisberg, during the Seven Years' War, in -1762, and performed prodigies of valour to no purpose at Bentheim in -1799.--T. - -[647] The Duc de Bourbon was found hanged or strangled in his apartment -a few days after the Revolution of 1830. He left Chantilly and the -greater part of his fortune to the late Duc d'Aumale, fourth son of -Louis Philippe.--T. - -[648] BOILEAU, _Ep. VII. A.M. Racine_: - -"May Condé sometimes at Chantilly read you; -And may Enghien be touched." ---T. - - - - -BOOK IV[649] - - -The year 1804--I move to the Rue de Miromesnil-Verneuil--Alexis de -Tocqueville--Le Ménil--Mézy--Mérévil--Madame de Coislin--Journey to -Vichy, in Auvergne, and to Mont Blanc--Return to Lyons--Excursion -to the Grande Chartreuse--Death of Madame de Caud--The years 1805 -and 1806--I return to Paris--I leave for the Levant--I embark in -Constantinople on a ship carrying pilgrims for Syria--From Tunis to -my return to France through Spain--Reflections on my voyage--Death of -Julien. - - -Henceforth removed from active life, and nevertheless saved from -Bonaparte's anger by the protection of Madame Bacciochi, I left my -temporary lodging in the Rue de Beaune and went to live in the Rue -de Miromesnil. The little house which I hired was occupied later by -M. De Lally-Tolendal and Madame Denain, his "best-beloved," as they -said in the days of Diane de Poitiers[650]. My garden abutted on a -timber-yard, and near my window I had a tall poplar-tree, which M. de -Lally-Tolendal, in order to breathe a less moist air, himself felled -with his coarse hand, which to his eyes was transparent and fleshless: -it was an illusion like any other. The pavement of the street at that -time came to an end before my door; higher up, the street or road wound -across a piece of waste-land called the Butte-aux-Lapins, or Rabbit -Hill. The Butte-aux-Lapins, sprinkled with a few isolated houses, -joined on the right the Jardin de Tivoli, whence I had set out with my -brother for the emigration, and on the left the Parc de Monceaux. I -strolled pretty often in that abandoned park, where the Revolution had -commenced among the orgies of the Duc d'Orléans: this retreat had been -embellished with marble nudities and mock ruins, a symbol of the light -and vicious policy which was about to cover France with prostitutes and -wreckage. - -I busied myself with nothing: at the utmost I conversed in the park -with some pine-trees, or talked of the Duc d'Enghien with three rooks -at the edge of an artificial river hidden beneath a carpet of green -moss. Deprived of my Alpine Legation and of my Roman friendships, even -as I had been suddenly separated from my attachments in London, I did -not know how to dispose of my imagination and my feelings; I sent them -every evening after the sun, and its rays were unable to carry them -over the seas. I returned indoors and tried to fall asleep to the sound -of my poplar tree. - -Nevertheless my resignation had increased my reputation; in France a -little courage always looks well. Some of the members of Madame de -Beaumont's former company introduced me to new country-houses. - -[Sidenote: The Tocqueville family.] - -M. de Tocqueville[651], my brother's brother-in-law, and guardian -of my two orphaned nephews, occupied Madame de Senozan's[652] -country-seat[653]. On every hand were scaffold legacies. There I saw -my nephews grow up with their three Tocqueville cousins, among whom -Alexis[654], the author of the _Démocratie en Amérique_, was prominent. -He was more spoilt at Verneuil than I had been at Combourg. Is this the -last renown that I shall have seen unknown in its swaddling clothes? -Alexis de Tocqueville has travelled through the civilized America, of -which I have travelled through the forests. - -Verneuil has changed masters; it has become the property of Madame -de Saint-Fargeau, famous through her father[655] and through the -Revolution, which adopted her as its daughter. - -Near Mantes, at the Ménil[656], was Madame de Rosanbo: my nephew, Louis -de Chateaubriand, eventually married Mademoiselle d'Orglandes there, -niece to Madame de Rosanbo; the latter no longer airs her beauty around -the pond and under the beeches of the manor: it has passed. When I went -from Verneuil to the Ménil, I came to Mézy[657] on the road: Madame -de Mézy was romance wrapped up in virtue and maternal grief. If only -her child, which fell from a window and broke its head, had been able, -like the young quails which we shot, to fly over the _château_ and take -refuge in the Île-Belle, the smiling island of the Seine: _Coturnix per -stipulas pascens!_ - -On the other side of the Seine, not far from the Marais, Madame de -Vintimille had introduced me to Méréville[658]. Méréville was an -oasis created by the smile of a muse, but of one of those muses whom -the Gallic poets call "the learned fairies." Here the adventures of -Blanca[659] and of Velléda were read before fashionable generations -which, falling one from the other like flowers, to-day listen to the -wailing of my years. - -By degrees my brain, wearying of rest in my Rue de Miromesnil, saw -phantoms form before it in the distance. The _Génie du Christianisme_ -inspired me with the idea of proving that work by mixing Christian -and mythological characters together. A shade which long afterwards I -called Cymodocée sketched itself vaguely in my head; not one of its -features was fixed. Cymodocée once conceived, I shut myself up with -her, as I always do with the daughters of my imagination; but, before -they have issued from the dreamy state and arrived from the banks -of Lethe through the ivory portals, they often change their shape. -If I create them through love, I undo them through love, and the one -cherished object which I, later, present to the light is the offspring -of a thousand infidelities. - -I remained only a year in the Rue de Miromesnil, because the house was -sold. I arranged with Madame la Marquise de Coislin[660], who let me -the top floor of her house on the Place Louis XV[661]. - -* - -[Sidenote: The Marquise de Coislin.] - -Madame de Coislin was a woman of the grandest air. She was nearly -eighty years of age, and her proud and domineering eyes bore an -expression of wit and irony. Madame de Coislin was in no way lettered, -and took pride in the fact; she had passed through the Voltairean -age without being aware of it; if she had conceived any idea of it -whatever, it was that of a time of a voluble middle-class. Not that she -ever spoke of her birth; she was too great to make herself ridiculous: -she very well knew how to see "small people" without compromising -her rank; but, after all, she was born of the Premier Marquis of -France[662]. If she was descended from Drogon de Nesle, killed in -Palestine in 1096; from Raoul de Nesle[663], the Constable, knighted -by Louis IX.; from Jean II. de Nesle, Regent of France during the last -crusade of St. Louis, Madame de Coislin vowed that this was a stupidity -on the part of fate for which she ought not to be held responsible; she -was naturally of the Court, as others, more happy, are of the streets, -as one may be a thorough-bred mare or a cab-hack: she could not help -this accident, and had no choice but to endure the ill with which -Heaven had been pleased to afflict her. - -Had Madame de Coislin had relations with Louis XV.? She never owned so -much to me: she admitted, however, that she had been very much loved, -but she pretended that she had treated the royal lover with the utmost -harshness. - -"I have seen him at my feet," she would say to me; "he had charming -eyes, and his language was seductive. He offered one day to give me a -porcelain dressing-table, like that which Madame de Pompadour had. - -"'Oh, Sire,' cried I, 'then I must use it to hide under!'" - -By a singular chance I came across this dressing-table at the -Marchioness Conyngham's in London; she had received it from George IV., -and showed it to me with amusing simplicity. - -Madame de Coislin occupied in her house a room opening under the -colonnade corresponding to the colonnade of the Wardrobe. Two -sea-pieces by Vernet[664], which Louis "the Well-beloved" had given to -the noble dame, were hung up on an old green satin tapestry. Madame -de Coislin remained lying till two o'clock in the afternoon in a -large bed, with curtains also of green silk, seated and propped up by -pillows; a sort of nightcap, badly fastened to her head, allowed her -grey hairs to escape. Sprigs of diamonds mounted in the old-fashioned -way fell upon the shoulder-pieces of her bed-cloak, all covered with -snuff, as in the time of the fashionable ladies of the Fronde. Around -her, on the bed-clothes, lay scattered the addresses of letters, torn -off the letters themselves, and on these addresses Madame de Coislin -wrote down her thoughts in every direction: she bought no stationery, -the post supplied her with it. From time to time a little dog called -Lili put her nose outside the sheets, came to bark at me for five or -six minutes, and crept back growling into her mistress' kennel. Thus -had time settled the young loves of Louis XV. - -Madame de Châteauroux[665] and her two sisters were cousins of Madame -de Coislin; the latter would not have been of the humour, as was -Madame de Mailly[666], repentant and a Christian, to reply to a man who -insulted her with a coarse name in the church of Saint-Roch: - -"My friend, since you know me, pray to God for me." - -Madame de Coislin, miserly as are many people of wit, piled up her -money in cupboards. She lived all devoured by a vermin of crown-pieces -which clung to her skin; her servants relieved her. When I found -her plunged in a maze of figures, she reminded me of the miser -Hermocrates[667], who, when dictating his will, appointed himself his -own heir. Nevertheless she gave a dinner occasionally; but she would -rail against coffee, which nobody liked, according to her, and which -served only to prolong the repast. - -Madame de Chateaubriand took a journey to Vichy with Madame de Coislin -and the Marquis de Nesle; the marquis went on ahead, and had excellent -dinners prepared. Madame de Coislin came after, and asked only for half -a pound of cherries. On leaving, she was presented with huge bills, and -then there was a terrible outcry. She would not hear of anything except -the cherries; the landlord maintained that, whether you ate or did not -eat, the custom was, at an inn, to pay for your dinner. - -Madame de Coislin had invented a form of illuminism to her own taste. -Credulous and incredulous, she was led by her want of faith to laugh -at those beliefs the superstition of which frightened her. She had met -Madame de Krüdener; the mysterious Frenchwoman was illuminated only -under reserve; she did not please the fervent Russian, whom she herself -liked no better. Madame de Krüdener said passionately to Madame de -Coislin: - -"Madame, who is your inside confessor?" - -"Madame," replied Madame de Coislin, "I know nothing about my inside -confessor; I only know that my confessor is in the inside of his -confessional." - -Thereupon the two ladies saw each other no more. - -Madame de Coislin prided herself on having introduced a novelty at -Court, the fashion of floating chignons, in spite of Queen Marie -Leczinska[668], who was very pious and who opposed this dangerous -innovation. She held that formerly no genteel person would ever have -thought of paying her doctor. Crying out against the plentifulness of -women's linen: - -"That smacks of the upstart," she said; "we women of the Court had only -two shifts: when they were worn out, we renewed them; we were dressed -in silk gowns, and we did not look like grisettes, like the young -ladies of nowadays." - -Madame Suard[669], who lived in the Rue Royale, had a cock whose -crowing annoyed Madame de Coislin. She wrote to Madame Suard: - -"Madame, have your cock's throat cut." - -Madame Suard sent back the messenger with this note: - -"Madame, I have the honour to reply to you that I shall not have my -cock's throat cut." - -The correspondence went no further. Madame de Coislin said to Madame de -Chateaubriand: - -"Ah, my heart, what a time we live in! And yet it's that Panckoucke -girl, the wife of that member of the Academy[670], you know." - -M. Hennin[671], a former clerk at the Foreign Office, and as tedious -as a protocol, used to scribble fat novels. One day he was reading a -description to Madame de Coislin: a tearful and abandoned love-lorn -woman was mournfully fishing a salmon. Madame de Coislin, who was -growing impatient, and who disliked salmon, interrupted the author and -said with the serious air which made her so comical: - -"Monsieur Hennin, could you not make that lady catch a different fish?" - -The stories which Madame de Coislin told could not be recollected, -for there was nothing in them; all lay in the pantomime, the accent, -and the expression of the narrator: she never laughed. There was one -dialogue between "Monsieur and Madame Jacqueminot," the perfection -of which surpassed everything. When, in the conversation between -the husband and wife, Madame Jacqueminot rejoined, "But, _Monsieur -Jacqueminot!_" the name was pronounced in such a tone that you were -seized with immoderate laughter. Obliged to let this pass, Madame de -Coislin gravely waited, taking snuff. - -Reading in a newspaper of the death of several kings, she took off her -spectacles, and blowing her nose, said: - -"There is an epizootic among crowned cattle." - -[Sidenote: Death of Madame de Coislin.] - -At the moment when she was ready to breathe her last, they were -maintaining by her bedside that one succumbed only through letting -one's self go; that, if one paid great attention, and never lost sight -of the enemy, one would not die at all. - -"I believe it," she said; "but I fear that something would distract me." - -She expired. - -I went down to her room the next day; I found Monsieur[672] and Madame -d'Avaray, her brother-in-law and sister, sitting before the fire-place, -with a little table between them, counting the louis in a bag which -they had taken from a hollow wainscoting. The poor dead woman was there -in her bed, behind the half-closed curtains: she no longer heard the -sound of the gold which ought to have awaked her, and which fraternal -hands were counting. - -Among the thoughts written down by the defunct on margins of printed -paper and addresses of letters were some which were extremely -beautiful. Madame de Coislin showed me what remained of the Court of -Louis XV. under Bonaparte and after Louis XVI., even as Madame de -Houdetot had enabled me to see what still lingered, in the nineteenth -century, of philosophic society. - -* - -In the summer of the year 1805, I went to join Madame de Chateaubriand -at Vichy, where Madame de Coislin had taken her, as I have said. I -did not find Jussac, Termes, Flamarens there, whom Madame de Sévigné -had "before and behind her" in 1677: they had been sleeping since one -hundred and twenty and so many years. I left my sister, Madame de Caud, -in Paris, where she had fixed her residence since the autumn of 1804. -After a short stay at Vichy, Madame de Chateaubriand proposed that we -should travel, in order to be away for some time from the political -troubles. - -Two little _Journeys_[673] which I then took in Auvergne and to Mont -Blanc have been collected in my works. After an absence of thirty-four -years, I have lately received at Clermont, from men unacquainted with -my person, the reception usually shown to an old friend. He who has -long occupied himself with the principles which the human race enjoys -in common has friends, brothers and sisters in every family; for, if -man is thankless, humanity is grateful. To those who have connected -themselves with you through a kindly reputation, and who have never -seen you, you are always the same; you have always the age which they -ascribed to you; their attachment, which is not disturbed by your -presence, always beholds you young and beautiful, like the sentiments -which they love in your writings. - -When I was a child, in my Brittany, and heard speak of Auvergne, I -imagined it a very distant, very distant country, where one saw strange -things, where one could not go without great danger, and travelling -under the protection of the Blessed Virgin. I never meet without a -sort of melting curiosity those little Auvergnats who go to seek their -fortunes in this great world with a small deal chest. They have little -besides hope in their box, as they climb down their rocks: lucky are -they if they bring it back with them! - -Alas, Madame de Beaumont had not lain two years on the bank of the -Tiber when I trod her natal soil in 1805; I was at but a few leagues -from that Mont Dore where she had come in search of the life which -she lengthened a little in order to reach Rome. Last summer, in 1838, -I once more travelled through this same Auvergne. Between those two -dates, 1805 and 1838, I can place the transformations which society has -undergone around me. - -We left Clermont and, on our way to Lyons, passed through Thiers -and Roanne. This road, then little frequented, followed at intervals -the banks of the Lignon. The author of the _Astrée_[674], who is not -a great genius, nevertheless invented places and persons that live: -such is the creative power of fiction, when it is appropriate to the -age in which it appears. There is, moreover, something ingeniously -fantastic in that resurrection of the nymphs and naiads who mingle with -shepherds, ladies and knights: those different worlds go well together, -and one is agreeably pleased with the fables of mythology united to the -lies of fiction; Rousseau has related how he was taken in by d'Urfé. - -[Sidenote: Geneva.] - -At Lyons, we again found M. Ballanche: he made the excursion to Geneva -and Mont Blanc with us. He went wherever one took him, without having -the smallest business there. At Geneva, I was not received at the -gate of the city by Clotilda, the betrothed of Clovis: M. de Barante, -senior[675], had become Prefect of the Léman. At Coppet, I went to see -Madame de Staël: I found her alone, buried in her castle, which was -built round a melancholy court-yard. I spoke to her of her fortune and -of her solitude as a precious means of independence and happiness: I -offended her. Madame de Staël loved society; she looked upon herself -as the most wretched of women, in an exile with which I should have -been enchanted. Where in my eyes was the unhappiness of living on one's -property with all the comforts of life? Where was the misfortune of -enjoying fame, leisure, peace, in a sumptuous retreat within sight of -the Alps, in comparison with those thousands of breadless, nameless, -helpless victims, banished to all the corners of Europe, while their -parents had perished on the scaffold? It is sad to be attacked by -an ill which the crowd cannot understand. For the rest, that ill is -therefore only the more intense: it is not lessened by being confronted -with other ills; one is not judged by another's pain; that which -afflicts the one rejoices the other; hearts have varied secrets, -incomprehensible to other hearts. Let us deny none his sufferings; it -is with sorrows as with countries: each man has his own. - -Madame de Staël called the next day on Madame de Chateaubriand at -Geneva, and we left for Chamouny. My opinion on the scenery of the -mountains caused it to be said that I was seeking to make myself -singular. It will be seen, when I come to speak of the Saint-Gothard, -that I have kept to my opinion. In the _Voyage au Mont-Blanc_ appears -a passage which I will recall as linking together the past events of -my life and the events of that same life then still future, and to-day -also past: - - "There is one circumstance alone in which it is true that the - mountains produce an oblivion of earthly troubles: that is - when one withdraws far from the world to consecrate himself - to religion. An anchorite devoting himself to the service - of mankind, a saint wishing to meditate in silence on the - greatness of God, may find peace and joy on desert rocks; - but it is not then the tranquillity of the spot that passes - into the soul of those solitaries: it is, on the contrary, - their soul that diffuses its serenity through the region of - storms.... - - "There are mountains which I would still visit with extreme - pleasure: those, for instance, of Greece and Judæa. I should - like to go over the spots with which my new studies lead - me daily to occupy myself: I would gladly seek, upon the - Tabor and Taygetus, other colours and other harmonies, after - painting the unfamed mountains and unknown valleys of the New - World." - -The last phrase foretold the voyage which, in fact, I performed in the -next year, 1806. - -[Sidenote: The Comte de Forbin.] - -On our return to Geneva, without being able to see Madame de Staël -again at Coppet, we found the inns crammed. But for the cares of -M. de Forbin[676], who arrived unexpectedly and procured us a bad -dinner in a dark waiting-room, we should have left the birth-place of -Rousseau without eating. M. de Forbin was at that time in a state of -beatitude; he displayed in his looks the inner felicity with which he -was inundated; his feet did not touch the ground. Wafted on his talent -and his blissfulness, he came down from the mountain as though from -the sky, with his close-fitting painter's jacket, his pallet on his -thumb, his brushes in a quiver. A good fellow, nevertheless, although -excessively happy, preparing to imitate me one day, when I should -have made my voyage to Syria, wishing even to go as far as Calcutta, -to make his loves return to him by an uncommon road, when they failed -him on the beaten track. His eyes showed a protecting pity: I was -poor, humble, uncertain of myself, and I did not hold the hearts of -princesses in my mighty hands. In Rome, I have had the honour of -returning M. de Forbin his lake-side dinner; I had the merit of having -become an ambassador. In these days one sees the poor devil whom one -has left that morning in the street turned into a king by evening. - -The noble gentleman, a painter in right of the Revolution, began -that generation of artists who dress themselves up like sketches, -grotesques, caricatures. Some wear prodigious mustachioes: one would -think they were going to conquer the world; their brushes are halberds, -their erasing-knives sabres: others have huge beards, and hanging or -puffed-out hair; they smoke a cigar by way of vulcano. These "cousins -of the rainbow," as our old Régnier[677] says, have their heads filled -with deluges, seas, rivers, forests, cataracts, tempests, or else with -carnages, executions and scaffolds. In their rooms they have human -skulls, foils, mandolines, morions, and dolmans. Bragging, pushing, -uncivil, liberal (as far as the portrait of the tyrant whom they are -painting), they endeavour to form a separate species between the -ape and the satyr; they are anxious to make it understood that the -secrecy of the studio has its dangers, and that there is no safety -for the models. But how handsomely do they not redeem these oddities -by a fevered existence, a suffering and sensitive nature, an entire -abnegation of self, an incalculable devotion to the miseries of others, -a delicate, superior, idealized manner of feeling, a poverty proudly -welcomed and nobly endured; lastly, sometimes by immortal talents: the -offspring of work, passion, genius, and solitude! - -Leaving Geneva at night to return to Lyons, we were stopped at the foot -of the Fort de l'Écluse, waiting for the gates to be opened. During -this stay of the witches in _Macbeth_ on the heath, strange things -passed within me. My dead years came to life again and surrounded me -like a band of phantoms; my burning seasons returned to me in their -flame and sadness. My life, hollowed out by the death of Madame de -Beaumont, had remained empty: airy forms, houris or dreams, issuing -from that abyss, took me by the hand and led me back to the days of -the sylph. I was no longer in the spot which I occupied, I dreamed of -other shores. Some secret influence urged me to the regions of the -Dawn, whither I was drawn besides by the plan of my new work and the -religious voice which released me from the vow of the village woman, -my foster-mother. As all my faculties had extended, as I had never -misused life, it superabounded with the pith of my intelligence, and -art, triumphing in my nature, added to the poet's inspirations. I had -what the Fathers of the Thebaïde called "ascensions" of the heart. -Raphael--forgive the blasphemy of the simile--Raphael, before the -Transfiguration only sketched upon the easel, could not have been more -electrified by his master-piece than was I by Eudore and Cymodocée, -whose names I did not yet know and whose images I dimly saw through an -atmosphere of love and fame. - -Thus does the native genius which tormented me in the cradle sometimes -return on its steps after deserting me; thus are my former sufferings -renewed; nothing heals within me; if my wounds close instantly, they -open again suddenly like those of the crucifixes of the Middle Ages, -which bleed on the anniversary of the Passion. I have no alternative, -to obtain relief during these crises, but to give a free course to the -fever of my thoughts, in the same way as one has his veins lanced when -the blood rushes to the heart or rises to the head. But of what am I -speaking! O religion, where then are thy powers, thy restraints, thy -balsams! Am I not writing all these things at a distance of countless -years from the hour at which I gave birth to René? I had a thousand -reasons to believe myself dead, and I live! 'Tis a great pity. Those -afflictions of the isolated poet, condemned to suffer the spring in -spite of Saturn, are unknown to the man who does not go outside the -common laws; for him the years are ever young: - -"The young kids," says Oppian, "watch over the author of their being; -when he comes to fall into the huntsman's net, they offer him in their -mouths the tender, flowering grass, which they have gone to gather from -afar, and bring him in their lips fresh water, drawn from the adjacent -brook[678]." - -* - -On my return from Lyons I found letters from M. Joubert: they informed -me that it was not possible for him to be at Villeneuve before -September. I replied: - -[Sidenote: Lyons and M. Saget.] - - "Your departure from Paris is too remote and distresses me; - you well know that my wife will never consent to arrive at - Villeneuve before you: she has a head of her own, and since - she has been with me, I find myself at the head of two heads - very difficult to govern. We shall remain at Lyons, where - they make us eat so prodigiously that I hardly have the - courage to leave this excellent town. The Abbé de Bonnevie is - here, back from Rome; he is wonderfully well; he is merry, he - preachifies, and no longer thinks of his woes; he embraces - you and will write to you. In short, everybody is in high - spirits, except myself; you are the only one to grumble. Tell - Fontanes that I have dined with M. Saget." - -This M. Saget was the providence of the canons; he lived on the hill of -Sainte-Foix, in the district of the good wine. The way to his house led -up near the spot where Rousseau had spent the night on the banks of the -Saône: - - "I remember," he says, "spending a delightful night outside - the town, on a road which skirted the Saône. Gardens raised - terrace-wise bordered the road on the opposite side: it had - been very warm that day; the evening was charming, the dew - moistened the parched grass; no wind, a quiet night; the - air was cool without being chill; the sun after setting - had left red vapours in the sky, and their reflection made - the water rose-coloured; the trees on the terraces were - laden with nightingales which replied one to the other. I - walked along in a sort of ecstasy, abandoning my senses and - my heart to the enjoyment of all this, and only sighing a - little with regret at enjoying it alone. Absorbed in my - sweet reverie, I prolonged my walk well into the night, - without perceiving that I was tired. I perceived it at last: - I lay down voluptuously on the shelf of a sort of niche or - false door, sunk into a terrace-wall; the canopy of my bed - consisted of the tops of the trees, a nightingale was exactly - over my head; I fell asleep to its singing: my slumbers were - sweet, my awakening even more so. It was broad day-light: my - eyes on opening beheld the water, the verdure, an admirable - landscape." - -* - -With Rousseau's charming itinerary in one's hand, one arrived at M. -Saget's. This ancient and lean bachelor, formerly married, wore a -green cap, a grey camlet coat, nankeen pantaloons, blue stockings and -beaver shoes. He had lived long in Paris, and had been intimate with -Mademoiselle Devienne[679]. She wrote him very witty letters, scolded -him, and gave him very good advice: he ignored it, for he did not take -the world seriously, believing apparently, like the Mexicans, that -the world had already used four suns, and that at the fourth (which -is lighting us at present) men had been changed into maggots. He did -not trouble his mind about the martyrdom of St. Pothin[680] and St. -Ireneus[681], nor of the massacre of the Protestants drawn up side by -side by order of Mandelot[682], the Governor of Lyons, all of them -having their throats cut on the same side. Opposite the field of the -shooting at the Brotteaux[683], he would tell me details of it, while -strolling among his vines, mingling with his narrative verses of Loyse -Labbé[684]: he would not have missed a single mouthful during the last -misfortunes of Lyons, under the Charte-Vérité. - -On certain days a certain calf's head was served up at Sainte-Foix, -after being soused for five nights, boiled in madeira, and stuffed -full of exquisite things; very pretty peasant-girls waited at table; -they served excellent homegrown wine out of demi-johns the size of -three bottles. We swooped upon the Saget banquet, I and the cassocked -chapter: the hill-side was quite black with us. - -Our _dapifer_ soon came to the end of his provisions: in the ruin of -his last moments he was taken in by two or three of the old mistresses -who had plundered his life, "a kind of women," says St. Cyprian[685], -"who live as though they could be loved: _quæ sic vivis ut possis -adamari._" - - -* - -[Sidenote: The Grande Chartreuse.] - -We tore ourselves from the delights of Capua to go and see the -Chartreuse, still accompanied by M. Ballanche. We hired a calash whose -disjointed wheels made a lamentable noise. On reaching Voreppe we -stopped at an inn at the top of the town. The next morning, at break of -day, we mounted on horseback and set out preceded by a guide. At the -village of Saint-Laurent, at the bottom of the Grande-Chartreuse, we -crossed the threshold of the valley, and passing between two walls of -rocks, followed the road leading up to the monastery. When speaking of -Combourg, I have told you what I experienced in that spot. The deserted -buildings were cracking under the supervision of a kind of farmer -of the ruins. A lay-brother had remained to take care of an infirm -solitary who had just died: religion had imposed loyalty and obedience -upon friendship. We saw the narrow grave freshly covered over: Napoleon -was just about to dig a huge one at Austerlitz. We were shown the -convent enclosure, the cells, each with its garden and workshop; we -noticed joiners' boards and turners' wheels: the hand had dropped the -chisel. In a gallery were displayed the portraits of the superiors of -the Chartreuse. The ducal palace at Venice preserves the series of the -_ritratti_ of the doges: what different spots and memories! Higher -up, at some distance, we were taken to the chapel of Le Sueur's[686] -immortal recluse[687]. - -After dining in an immense kitchen, we set out again and met, carried -in a palanquin like a rajah, M. Chaptal, formerly an apothecary, then a -senator, next owner of Chanteloup and inventor of beetroot sugar, the -greedy heir of the beautiful Indian reed-canes of Sicily, perfected by -the Otaheitan sun. As I descended from the forests, my thoughts turned -to the cenobites of old; for centuries, they carried, together with a -little earth, in the skirts of their gowns, fir plants which have grown -into trees on the rocks. Happy O ye who travelled noiselessly through -the world, nor even turned your heads in passing! - -No sooner had we reached the entrance to the valley than a storm burst; -a deluge dashed down, and vexed torrents rushed roaring from every -ravine. Madame de Chateaubriand, becoming reckless for very fear, -galloped through the flint stones, the water and the lightning-flashes. -She had flung away her umbrella the better to hear the thunder; the -guide cried to her: - -"Recommend your soul to God! In the name of the Father, and of the Son, -and of the Holy Ghost!" - -We reached Voreppe to the sound of the tocsin; what remained of the -cloven storm lay before us. In the distant landscape, we saw a blazing -village and the moon rounding out the upper portion of his disc above -the clouds, like the pale, bald forehead of St. Bruno, the founder of -the order of silence. M. Ballanche, all dripping with rain, said with -his immovable placidity: - -"I am like a fish in the water." - -I have just seen Voreppe again, in this year 1838: the storm was -there no longer; but two witnesses of it still remain, Madame de -Chateaubriand and M. Ballanche. I mention this because I have too -often, in these Memoirs, had to call attention to the dead. - -On returning to Lyons we left our companion there, and went to -Villeneuve. I have told you about this little town, my walks and my -regrets on the banks of the Yonne with M. Joubert. Three old maids -used to live there, Mesdemoiselles Piat; they reminded me of my -grandmother's three friends at Plancoët, saving the difference in -social position. The virgins of Villeneuve died one after the other, -and I thought of them when I saw a grass-grown flight of steps, running -up outside their empty house. What used these village damsels to talk -about in their time! They spoke of a dog, and of a muff which their -father had once bought them at Sens Fair. To me this was as charming -as the council of the same town at which St. Bernard had Abélard, my -fellow-Breton, condemned. The maids of the muff were Heloïses perhaps; -perhaps they loved, and their letters, brought to light, will one day -entrance posterity. Who knows? Perhaps they wrote to their "lord, also -their father, also their brother, also their spouse: _domino suo, imo -patri_," etc., that they felt honoured by the name of friend, by the -name of "mistress" or of "courtesan: _concubinæ vel scorti._" - -"In the midst of his learning," says a grave doctor, "I find that -Abélard played an admirably foolish prank when he suborned with love -his pupil Héloïse." - -[Sidenote: Illness of Lucile.] - -A great and new sorrow surprised me at Villeneuve. To tell it you, -I must go back to a few months before my Swiss journey. I was still -occupying the house in the Rue Miromesnil when, in the autumn of -1804, Madame de Caud came to Paris. The death of Madame de Beaumont -had finished the affecting of my sister's reason; she was very near -refusing to believe in the death, suspecting some mystery in the -disappearance, or including Heaven in the number of the enemies who -mocked at her misfortunes. She had nothing; I had chosen an apartment -in the Rue Caumartin for her, deceiving her as to the rent and as -to the arrangements which I told her to make with the keeper of an -eating-house. Like a flame ready to expire, her genius shed the -brightest light; she was all illumined with it. She would write a few -lines which she threw into the fire, or else copy from books some -thoughts in harmony with the disposition of her soul. She did not -remain long in the Rue Caumartin; she went to live with the Dames -Saint-Michel, in the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Jacques: Madame de Navarre -was the superior of the convent. Lucile had a little cell overlooking -the garden: I noticed that she followed with her eyes, with I know -not what gloomy longing, the nuns who walked in the enclosure around -the vegetable beds. One could guess that she envied the saints and, -going further, aspired to the angels. I will sanctify these Memoirs by -deposing in them, as relics, the following letters of Madame de Caud, -written before she had taken flight for her eternal country: - - "17 _January._ - - "I had placed all my happiness in you and in Madame de - Beaumont; I fled from my cares and my sorrows in the thought - of you two: my whole occupation was to love you. Last night - I made long reflections upon your character and your ways. - As you and I are always near each other, it needs some time, - I think, to know me, such is the variety of ideas in my - head! Such is the opposition of my timidity and my peculiar - external weakness to my real inner strength! Too much about - myself. My illustrious brother, accept my fondest thanks for - all the favours and all the marks of friendship which you - have never ceased to show me. This is the last letter you - will receive from me in the morning. Albeit I communicate - my ideas to you, they nevertheless remain quite completely - within myself." - - (_No date._) - - "Do you seriously, dear, think me safe from some impertinence - on the part of M. Chênedollé? I am quite determined not to - invite him to continue his visits; I resign myself to look - upon Tuesday's as the last. I do not wish to trouble his - politeness. I am closing for ever the book of my fate, and - sealing it with the seal of reason; I shall now consult its - pages no more on the trifles than on the important things of - life. I give up all my foolish notions; I wish neither to - occupy nor to vex myself with those of other people; I will - abandon myself with heart and soul to all the events of my - passage through this world. What a pity that I should pay - myself so much attention! God can now afflict me only in you. - I thank Him for the precious, kind and dear present which He - has made me in your person and for having preserved my life - without stain: those are all my treasures. I could take for - an emblem of my life the moon in a cloud, with this device: - 'Often obscured, never tarnished.' Farewell, dear. You will - perhaps be surprised at my words since yesterday morning. - Since I saw you, my heart has raised itself to God, and I - have laid it wholly at the foot of the Cross, its sole and - true place." - - "_Thursday._ - - "Good-morning, dear. What colour are your ideas this morning? - As for me, I remember that the only person who was able to - relieve me when I was fearing for Madame de Farcy's life was - she who said to me, 'But it is within the range of possible - things that you may die before her.' Could any one have - spoken more to the point? There is nothing, dear, like the - idea of death to rid us of the future. I hasten to rid you of - myself this morning, for I feel myself too much in the mood - to say fine things. Good-bye, my poor brother. Keep joyful." - - (_No date._) - - "While Madame de Farcy lived, always by her side, I had not - noticed the need of being in communion of thought with some - one. I possessed that advantage unconsciously. But since we - lost that friend, and circumstances having separated me from - you, I have known the torture of never being able to refresh - and renew one's mind in some one's conversation; I feel that - my ideas hurt me when I am unable to get rid of them; this - has surely to do with my bad organization. Nevertheless I am - fairly satisfied, since yesterday, with my courage. I pay no - attention to my grief and to the sort of inward faintness - which I feel. I have abandoned myself. Continue to be always - kind to me: before long it will be humanity. Good-bye, dear. - Till soon, I hope." - -[Sidenote: Lucile's letters.] - - (_No date._) - - "Be easy, dear; my health is recovering visibly. I often ask - myself why I take so much pains to bolster it up. I am like a - madman who should build a fortress in the middle of a desert. - Farewell, my poor brother." - - (_No date._) - - "As I have a bad headache to-night, I have just simply, and - at haphazard, written down some thoughts of Fénelon's for - you, so as to keep my promise: - - '"We are confined within narrow limits when we shut ourselves - up in our own existence; on the contrary, we feel at liberty - when we quit this prison to enter into the immensity of God.' - - "'We shall soon find once more all that we have lost We are - daily approaching it with rapid strides. Yet a little while, - and we shall no more have cause to weep. It is we who die: - what we love still lives and shall never die.' - - "'You impart to yourself a deceitful strength, such as a - raging fever gives to a sick man. For some days past, a - sort of convulsive movement has been visible in you, from - the effort to affect an air of gaiety and courage, whilst a - silent anguish filled your soul.' - - "That is as much as my head and my bad pen permit me to - write to you this evening. If you like, I will begin again - to-morrow, and perhaps tell you some more. Good-evening, - dear. I shall never cease telling you that my heart - prostrates itself before that of Fénelon, whose tenderness - seems to me so profound, and his virtue so exalted. Good-bye, - dear. - - "I am awake, and offer you a thousand loves and a hundred - blessings. I feel well this morning and am anxious as to - whether you will be able to read me, and whether those - thoughts of Fénelon's will seem to you well chosen. I fear my - heart has concerned itself too much with the selection." - - (_No date._) - - "Could you think that since yesterday I have been madly - occupied in correcting you? The Blossacs have trusted me - with one of your novels in the greatest secrecy. As I do not - think that you have made the most of your ideas, I am amusing - myself by trying to render them in their full value. Can - audacity go further than that? Forgive me, great man, and - remember that I am your sister, and that I have some little - right to make an ill use of your riches." - - "SAINT-MICHEL. - - "I will no longer say, 'Do not come to see me again,' - because, having from now but a few days to spend in Paris, - I feel that your presence is essential to me. Do not come - to-day until four; I expect to be out till then. Dear, I have - in my head a thousand contradictory ideas touching things - which seem to me to exist and not to exist, which to me have - the effect of objects of which one only caught sight in a - glass, and of which, consequently, one could not make sure, - however distinctly one saw them. I wish to trouble about all - this no longer; from this moment I abandon myself. Unlike - you, I have not the resource of changing banks, but I feel - sufficient courage to attach no importance to the persons - and things on my shore, and to fix myself entirely and - irrevocably in the Author of all justice and all truth. There - is only one displeasure to which I fear that I shall grow - insensible with great difficulty, that of unintentionally, in - passing, striking against the destiny of some other person, - not because of any interest that might be taken in me: I am - not mad enough for that." - - "SAINT-MICHEL. - - "Dear, never did the sound of your voice give me so much - pleasure as when I heard it yesterday on my staircase. My - ideas then strove to overcome my courage. I was seized with - content to feel you so near me; you appeared, and my whole - inner being returned to orderliness. I sometimes feel a great - repugnance at heart to drinking my cup. How can that heart, - which is so small a space, contain so much existence and so - much grief? I am greatly dissatisfied with myself, greatly - dissatisfied. My affairs and my ideas carry me away; I - scarcely occupy myself with God now, and I confine myself to - saying to Him a hundred times a day, 'O Lord, make haste to - hearken unto my prayer, for my spirit waxeth faint.'" - -[Sidenote: More letters from Lucile.] - - - (_No date._) - - "Brother, do not grow weary of my letter, nor of my company; - think that soon you will be for ever released from my - importunities. My life is casting its last light, like a - lamp which has burnt out in the darkness of a long night, - and which sees the rise of the dawn in which it is to die. - Please, brother, cast a single glance at the early moments - of our existence; remember that we have often been seated - on the same lap, and pressed both together to the same - bosom; that already you added tears to mine, that from - the earliest days of your life you protected and defended - my frail existence, that our games united us and that I - shared your first studies. I will not speak to you of our - adolescence, of the innocence of our thoughts and of our - joys, nor of our mutual need to see each other incessantly. - If I retrace the past, I candidly confess, brother, that - it is to make me revive the more in your heart. When you - left France for the second time, you placed your wife in my - hands, you made me promise never to part from her. True to - this dear engagement, I voluntarily stretched out my hands - to the irons, and entered into the regions destined alone - for the victims vowed to death. In those abodes I have had - no anxiety save as to your fate; incessantly I questioned - the forebodings of my heart touching yourself. When I had - recovered my liberty, amidst the ills which came to overwhelm - me, the thought alone of our meeting kept me up. To-day, when - I am irretrievably losing the hope of running my course by - your side, bear with my griefs. I shall become resigned to my - destiny, and it is only because I am still fighting against - it that I suffer such cruel anguish; but when I shall have - grown submissive to my fate.... And what a fate! Where are - my friends, my protectors and my treasures! To whom matters - my existence, that existence abandoned by all, and weighing - down entirely upon itself? My God, are not my present woes - enough for my weakness, without yet adding to them the dread - of the future? Forgive me, my too dear friend, I will resign - myself; I will fall asleep, in a slumber as of death, upon - my destiny. But, during the few days which I have to spend in - this town, let me seek my last consolations in you; let me - believe that my presence is sweet to you. Believe me, among - the hearts that love you, none approaches the sincerity and - tenderness of my impotent friendship for you. Fill my memory - with agreeable recollections, which prolong my existence - beside you. Yesterday, when you spoke to me of coming to - you, you seemed to me anxious and serious, while your words - were affectionate. Why, brother, could I be to you also a - subject of aversion and annoyance? You know it was not I - that proposed the amiable distraction of going to see you, - and that I promised you to make no ill use of it; but, if - you have changed your opinion, why did you not tell me so - frankly? I have no courage to set against your politeness. - Formerly you used to distinguish me a little more from the - common herd and to do me more justice. As you reckon upon me - to-day, I will come to see you presently, at eleven o'clock. - We will arrange together what seems best to you for the - future. I have written to you, feeling sure that I should not - have the courage to say to you a single word of what this - letter contains." - -This so affecting and quite admirable letter is the last which I -received; it alarmed me through the increase of sadness of which it -bears the impress. I hurried to the Dames Saint-Michel; my sister was -walking in the garden with Madame de Navarre; she went in when she knew -that I had gone up to her room. She made visible efforts to collect her -ideas, and at intervals she had a slight convulsive movement of the -lips. I entreated her to return entirely to reason, to cease writing -such unjust things to me, things that rent my heart, to cease thinking -that I could ever grow weary of her. She appeared to grow a little -calmer at the words which I repeated to distract and console her. She -told me that she believed that the convent was doing her harm, that she -would feel better living alone, in the neighbourhood of the Jardin des -Plantes, there where she could see doctors and walk about. I urged her -to please her own taste, adding that in order to help Virginie, her -maid, I would give her old Saint-Germain. This proposal seemed to give -her great pleasure, in memory of Madame de Beaumont, and she assured me -that she would go to look out for her new lodging. She asked me how I -was thinking of spending the summer. I said that I should go to Vichy -to join my wife, and then to M. Joubert at Villeneuve, to return to -Paris from there. I suggested to her to accompany us. She answered that -she wished to spend the summer alone, and that she was going to send -Virginie back to Fougères. I left her; she was more at ease. - -Madame de Chateaubriand left for Vichy, and I prepared to follow her. -Before leaving Paris I went again to see Lucile. She was affectionate; -she spoke to me of her little writings. I encouraged the great poet to -work; she kissed me, wished me a good journey, made me promise to come -back soon. She saw me to the landing of the staircase, leant over the -baluster, and quietly watched me go down. When I reached the bottom I -stopped, and lifting my head, cried to the unhappy woman who was still -looking at me: - -"Farewell, dear sister! I shall see you soon! Take great care of -yourself! Write to me at Villeneuve. I will write to you. I hope that -next winter you will agree to live with us." - -[Sidenote: Death of Lucile.] - -That evening I saw the worthy Saint-Germain; I gave him orders and some -money, so that he might secretly reduce the prices of anything she -might require. I enjoined him to keep me informed of everything and not -to fail to call me back in case he should want to see me. Three months -passed. When I reached Villeneuve, I found two fairly tranquillizing -letters about Madame de Caud's health: but Saint-Germain forgot to -speak to me of my sister's new lodging. I had begun to write her a long -letter, when suddenly Madame de Chateaubriand fell dangerously ill: I -was at her bedside when I was brought a new letter from Saint-Germain; -I opened it: a withering line told me of the sudden death of Lucile. - -I have cared for many tombs in my life: it fell to my lot and to my -sister's destiny that her ashes should be flung to the skies. I was not -in Paris when she died; I had no relations there; kept at Villeneuve by -my wife's critical condition, I was unable to go to the sacred remains; -orders sent from a distance arrived too late to prevent a common -burial. Lucile knew no one and had not a friend; she was known only to -Madame de Beaumont's old servant: it was as though he had been charged -to link two destinies. He alone followed the forsaken coffin, and he -himself was dead before Madame de Chateaubriand's sufferings allowed me -to bring her back to Paris. - -My sister was buried among the poor: in what grave-yard was she laid? -In what motionless wave of an ocean of dead was she swallowed up? In -what house did she die, after leaving the community of the Dames de -Saint-Michel? If, by making researches, if, by examining the archives -of the municipalities, the registers of the parishes, I should come -across my sister's name, what would that avail me[688]? Should I -find the same keeper of the cemetery? Should I find the man who dug -a grave that remained nameless and unlabelled? Would the rough hands -that were the last to touch so pure a clay have remembered it? What -nomenclator of the shades could point out to me the obliterated tomb? -Might he not make a mistake as to the dust? Since Heaven has willed it -so, let Lucile be for ever lost! I find in this absence of locality a -distinction from the burials of my other friends. My predecessor in -this world and in the next is praying to the Redeemer for me; she is -praying to Him from the midst of the pauper remains among which her -own lie confounded: even so does Lucile's mother and mine rest lost -among the preferred of Jesus Christ. God will certainly have been able -to recognise my sister; and she, who was so little attached to earth, -ought to leave no trace there. She has left me, that sainted genius. -Not a day has passed but I have wept for her. Lucile loved to hide -herself; I have made her a solitude in my heart: she shall leave it -only when I shall have ceased to live[689]. - -Those are the true, the only events of my real life! What mattered -to me, at the moment when I was losing my sister, the thousands of -soldiers falling on the battlefields, the destruction of thrones, the -changes in the face of the world? - -Lucile's death struck at the sources of my soul: it was my childhood -in the midst of my family, the first vestiges of my existence, that -were disappearing. Our life resembles those frail buildings, shored -up in the sky by flying buttresses: they do not crumble at once, but -become loose piecemeal; they still support some gallery or other, while -already they have become separated from the chancel or vault of the -edifice. Madame de Chateaubriand, still bruised by Lucile's imperious -whims, saw only a deliverance for the Christian who had gone to rest in -the Lord. Let us be gentle if we would be regretted; the loftiness of -genius and the higher qualities are mourned only by the angels. But I -cannot enter into the consolation of Madame de Chateaubriand. - -* - -[Sidenote: My journey to the East.] - -When, returning to Paris by the Burgundy road, I caught sight of the -cupola of the Val-de-Grâce and the dome of Sainte-Geneviève, which -overlooks the Jardin des Plantes, my heart was broken: one more -companion of my life left on the wayside! We went back to the Hôtel de -Coislin, and although M. de Fontanes, M. Joubert, M. de Clausel, M. -Molé came to spend the evenings with me, I was distraught by so many -memories and thoughts that I was utterly exhausted. Remaining alone -behind the objects that had quitted me, like a foreign mariner whose -engagement has expired, and who has neither home nor country, I struck -the shore with my foot; I longed to swim in a new ocean to refresh -myself and cross it. Nursed on Mount Pindus, a crusader to Hierosolyma, -I was impatient to go to mingle my loneliness with the ruins of Athens, -my tears with those of the Magdalen. - -I went to see my family[690] in Brittany, returned to Paris, and -left for Trieste on the 13th of July 1806; Madame de Chateaubriand -accompanied me as far as Venice, where M. Ballanche came to join her. - -As my life is set forth hour by hour in the _Itinéraire_, I should -have no more to say here, if I had not kept some hitherto unknown -letters written or received during and after my voyage. Julien, my -servant and companion, wrote his own Itinerary side by side with mine, -just as passengers on a vessel keep their private logs on a journey -of discovery. The little manuscript which he places at my disposal -will serve as a check upon my narrative: I shall be Cook, he will be -Clarke[691]. - -In order to bring into clearer light the different manner in which one -is impressed according to one's place in the social order and in the -intellectual hierarchy, I will mingle my narrative with Julien's[692]. -I shall let him begin by speaking first, because he relates some days' -sailing without me from Modon to Smyrna. - - JULIEN'S ITINERARY. - - "We went on board[693] on Friday the 1st of August; but, - the wind not being favourable to leave harbour, we waited - until daybreak the next morning. Then the harbour-pilot - came to tell us that he could bring us out. As I had never - been on the sea, I had formed an exaggerated idea of the - danger, for I saw none during two days. But, on the third, a - tempest rose; lightning, thunder and, in short, a terrible - storm attacked us and beat up the sea frightfully. Our - crew consisted of only eight sailors, a captain, a mate, a - pilot and a cook, and five passengers, including Monsieur - and myself, which made seventeen men in all. Then we all - set ourselves to help the seamen in furling the sails, in - spite of the rain with which we were soon drenched, having - taken off our coats to move more freely. This work filled my - thoughts and made me forget the danger, which, indeed, is - more terrible through the idea which one forms of it than it - is in reality. The storms followed one another during two - days, which seasoned me in my first days of sea-faring; I was - in no way inconvenienced. Monsieur was afraid lest I should - be ill at sea; when calm set in again, he said to me: - - "'Now I am reassured about your health; as you have borne - these two stormy days so well, you can set your mind at rest - as to any other mischance.' - - "None occurred during the remainder of our crossing to - Smyrna. On the 10th, which was a Sunday, Monsieur made them - heave-to near a Turkish town called Modon, where he landed to - go to Greece. Among the passengers who were with us were two - Milanese, who were going to Smyrna to follow their trade of - tinmen and pewter-founders. One of the two, called Joseph, - spoke the Turkish language fairly well, and Monsieur proposed - that he should go with him as servant interpreter, and - mentions him in his _Itinéraire._ He told us, on leaving us, - that the journey would only take a few days, that he would - join the vessel at an island where we were to pass in four - or five days, and that he would wait for us in that island - if he arrived there before us. As Monsieur found that man to - suit him for that short journey[694], he left me on board - to continue my voyage to Smyrna and to look after all our - luggage. He had given me a letter of recommendation to the - French Consul, in case he did not join us, which was what - happened. On the fourth day, we arrived at the appointed - island and Monsieur was not there. We passed the night and - waited for him till seven o'clock in the morning. The captain - went back on shore to leave word that he was compelled to - go on, having a fair wind and being obliged to take his - crossing into consideration. Besides, he saw a pirate who was - trying to approach us, and it was urgent that we should place - ourselves promptly on the defensive. He made the men load his - four pieces of cannon and bring on deck his muskets, pistols - and side-arms; but, as the wind favoured us, the pirate gave - us up. We arrived, on Monday the 18th, at seven o'clock in - the evening, at the port of Smyrna." - - * - - [Sidenote: Greece.] - - After crossing Greece, and touching Zea and Chio, I found - Julien at Smyrna. To-day I see Greece in my memory as one - of those dazzling circles which one sometimes beholds on - closing one's eyes. Against that mysterious phosphorescence - are outlined ruins of a delicate and admirable architecture, - the whole rendered still more resplendent by I know not - what brightness of the Muses. When shall I see again the - thyme of Mount Hymettus, the oleanders of the banks of the - Eurotas? One of the men whom I have left with the greatest - envy on foreign shores is the Turkish custom-house officer - of the Piræus: he lived alone, the guardian of three - deserted ports, turning his gaze over bluey isles, gleaming - promontories, golden seas. There I heard nought save the - sound of the billows in the shattered tomb of Themistocles - and the murmur of distant memories; in the silence of the - ruins of Sparta, fame itself was dumb. - - In the cradle of Melesigene I left my poor dragoman, - Joseph, the Milanese, at his tinman's shop, and set out for - Constantinople. I went to Pergamos, wishing first to go to - Troy, from motives of poetic piety; a fall from my horse - awaited me at the commencement of my road; not that Pegasus - stumbled, but I slept. I have recalled this accident in my - _Itinéraire_; Julien relates it also, and he makes remarks - concerning the roads and the horses to the exactness of which - I can certify. - - JULIEN'S ITINERARY. - - "Monsieur, who had fallen asleep on his horse, tumbled off - without waking. His horse stopped forthwith, as did mine, - which followed it. I at once alighted to know the reason, for - it was impossible for me to see it at a fathom's distance. - I saw Monsieur half asleep beside his horse, and quite - astonished to find himself on the ground; he assured me that - he had not hurt himself. His horse did not try to run away, - which would have been dangerous, for there were precipices - very near to the spot where we were." - - On leaving the Soma, after passing Pergamos, I had the - dispute with my guide which I describe in the _Itinéraire._ - Here is Julien's version: - - JULIEN'S ITINERARY. - - "We left that village very early, after renewing our canteen. - A little way from the village, I was greatly surprised to - see Monsieur angry with our guide; I asked him the reason. - Monsieur then told me that he had arranged with the guide, - at Smyrna, that he would take him to the plains of Troy on - the way, and that he was now refusing, saying that the plains - were infested with brigands. Monsieur declined to believe - a word of it, and would listen to no one. As I saw that he - was getting more and more out of temper, I made a sign to - the guide to come near the interpreter and the janissary to - explain to me what he had been told about the dangers to be - risked in the plains which Monsieur wished to visit. The - guide told the interpreter that he had been assured that one - had to be in great numbers not to be attacked; the janissary - told me the same thing. Thereupon I went to Monsieur and - told him what they had all three said, and that, besides, we - should find a little village at a day's march where there - was a sort of consul who would be able to inform us of the - truth. After this statement, Monsieur composed himself, and - we continued our road till we reached that place. He at - once went to the consul, who told him of all the dangers he - would risk if he persisted in his wish to go in such small - numbers to those plains of Troy. Thereupon Monsieur was - obliged to abandon his project, and we continued our road for - Constantinople." - -[Sidenote: Constantinople.] - -I arrived at Constantinople. - - MY ITINERARY. - - "The almost total absence of women, the dearth of wheeled - carriages, and the packs of ownerless dogs were the three - distinctive characteristics that first struck me in this - extraordinary town. As nearly every one walks in papouches, - as there is no noise of carriages and carts, as there are - no bells and scarcely any hammering trades, the silence - is continual. You see around you a voiceless crowd which - seems to wish to pass unnoticed, and which always looks as - though it were stealing away from its master's sight. You - constantly come to a bazaar or a cemetery, as though the - Turks were only there to buy, sell, or die. The cemeteries, - unwalled and placed in the middle of the streets, are - magnificent cypress-woods: the doves build their nests in the - cypress-trees and share the peace of the dead. Here and there - one discovers some ancient monuments which have no connection - with the modern men, nor with the new monuments by which they - are surrounded; it is as though they had been transported to - this eastern town by the working of a talisman. No sign of - joy, no appearance of happiness shows itself to your eyes; - what you see is not a people but a herd whom an iman drives - and a janissary slays. Amidst the prisons and the gaols rises - a seraglio, the capitol of servitude: it is there that a - sacred guardian carefully preserves the germs of pestilence - and the primitive laws of tyranny." - -Julien does not soar so near the clouds[695]. - - MY ITINERARY. - - "We were about two hundred passengers on the ship, men, - women, children and old people. As many mats lay ranged in - rows on both sides of the steerage. In this kind of republic, - each kept house as he pleased: the women looked after their - children, the men smoked or prepared their dinners, the - popes talked together. On every side was heard the sound - of mandolines, fiddles and lyres. They sang, they danced, - they laughed, they prayed. Every one was joyful. They said - to me, 'Jerusalem!' pointing to the south; and I replied, - 'Jerusalem!' In short, but for the fright, we should have - been the happiest people in the world; but at the least wind - the seamen furled the sails, the pilgrims cried, '_Christos, - Kyrie eleison!_' When the storm had passed, we resumed our - boldness." - -Here I am beaten by Julien. - - JULIEN'S ITINERARY. - - "We had to busy ourselves with our departure for Jaffa, which - took place on Thursday the 18th of September. We embarked on - board a Greek ship, where there were at least, men, women, - and children, one hundred and fifty Greeks who were going on - a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, which caused much disturbance on - board. - - "Like the other passengers, we too had our supply of - provisions and our cooking utensils, which I had bought in - Constantinople. I had, besides, a further and fairly complete - supply which M. l'Ambassadeur had given us, consisting of - very fine biscuits, hams, sausages, saveloys, different sorts - of wine, rum, sugar, lemons, and even quinine-wine against - the fever. I was therefore furnished with a very plentiful - provision, which I husbanded and only consumed with great - economy, knowing that we had more than this one crossing to - make: everything was locked up where the passengers were not - allowed to go. - - "Our crossing, which lasted only thirteen days, seemed - very long to me through all sorts of unpleasantness and - uncleanliness on board. During several days of bad weather - which we encountered, the women and children were sick, - throwing up everywhere, so much so that we were obliged to - leave our cabin and sleep on deck. There we took our meals - much more comfortably than elsewhere, as we decided to wait - until all our Greeks had finished their littering." - -[Sidenote: Mount Carmel.] - -I passed through the Dardanelles, touched at Rhodes, and took a pilot -for the Syrian coast. We were stopped by a calm below the Asiatic -continent, almost opposite the old Cape Chelidonia. We remained two -days at sea without knowing where we were. - - MY ITINERARY. - - "The weather was so fine and the air so mild that all the - passengers spent the night on deck. I had contended for a - place on the quarter-deck with two fat caloyers, who yielded - it to me only after much grumbling. I was lying asleep there - at six o'clock in the morning on the 30th of September, - when I was aroused by a confused noise of voices: I opened - my eyes, and saw the pilgrims looking towards the prow of - the vessel. I asked what it was; they shouted '_Signor, - il Carmelo!_' Mount Carmel! The wind had risen at eight - o'clock the previous evening, and we had arrived in sight of - the Syrian coast during the night. As I was sleeping fully - dressed, I was soon on my feet, asking the whereabouts of the - sacred mountain. Everyone was eager to point it out to me; - but I perceived nothing, owing to the sun which was beginning - to rise opposite to us. That moment had about it something - religious and august: all the pilgrims, their beads in their - hands, had remained silently in the same attitude, awaiting - the apparition of the Holy Land; the chief of the popes - prayed aloud: one heard only that prayer and the sound of the - running of the vessel, which the most favourable wind was - impelling across a dazzling sea. From time to time a shout - rose from the prow, when one caught sight of Mount Carmel - again. At last I myself perceived the mountain, like a round - patch beneath the rays of the sun. I then went on my knees in - the manner of the Latins. I did not feel the peculiar trouble - which I experienced on discovering the coast of Greece: but - the sight of the cradle of the Israelites and the native land - of the Christians filled me with joy and respect. I was about - to step upon the land of prodigies, near the sources of the - most astounding poetry, in the region where, even humanly - speaking, the greatest event took place that ever changed the - face of the world. . . . . . . . . . . - - "The wind dropped at noon; it rose again at four o'clock; but - through the ignorance of the pilot we went beyond our aim.... - At two o'clock in the afternoon we saw Jaffa again. - - "A boat left the shore with three monks. I stepped into the - launch with them; we entered the harbour through an opening - effected between the rocks, and dangerous even for a ship's - boat. - - "The Arabs on the beach came out into the water to their - waists, in order to take us on their shoulders. Then there - followed a rather laughable scene: my servant was dressed in - a whitish frock-coat; white being the colour of distinction - among the Arabs, they deemed that Julien was the sheik. They - caught hold of him and carried him off in triumph, despite - his protests, while, thanks to my blue coat, I made my escape - humbly on the back of a ragged beggar." - -Now let us hear Julien, the principal actor in the scene: - - JULIEN'S ITINERARY. - - "What surprised me greatly was to see six Arabs come to carry - me on land, while there were only two for Monsieur, which - amused him much, to see me carried like a reliquary. I do not - know whether my apparel seemed to them more brilliant than - Monsieur's: he wore a brown frock-coat and buttons of the - same; mine was whitish, with buttons of white metal which - gave off a certain gleam in the bright sunshine: this may, no - doubt, have caused the mistake. - - "We went, on Wednesday the 1st of October, to the monks of - Jaffa, who belong to the Order of Cordeliers, speaking Latin - and Italian, but very little French. They received us very - well, and did all that in them lay to procure for us all we - needed." - -I arrived in Jerusalem. On the advice of the Fathers of the convent, -I passed quickly through the Holy City to go to the Jordan. After -stopping at the monastery at Bethlehem, I set out with an Arab escort; -I stopped at St. Sabas. At midnight, I found myself on the shore of the -Dead Sea. - - MY ITINERARY. - - "When one travels in Judæa, at first the heart is seized - with a great sense of tediousness; but when, as you pass from - solitude to solitude, space stretches limitless before your - eyes, that feeling gradually wears away, and you experience - a secret terror which, far from casting down the soul, gives - courage and raises the spirit. Extraordinary views discover - on every side a land laboured by miracles: the burning sun, - the swooping eagle, the barren fig-tree, all the poetry, all - the scenes of the Scriptures are there. Every name contains - a mystery; every grotto declares the future; every summit - resounds with a prophet's accents. God Himself has spoken on - those shores: the dried-up torrents, the cleft rocks, the - half-open tombs testify to the working of wonders; the desert - appears to be still mute with terror, and it is as though - it had not ventured to break the silence since it heard the - voice of the Almighty. - - "We descended from the brow of the mountain, in order to go - to spend the night on the shore of the Dead Sea, and next to - go up to the Jordan[696]. - - . . . . . . . . . . - - "We broke up our camp, and made our way for an hour and a - half with excessive difficulty through a fine white dust. - We were proceeding towards a small wood of balsam-trees and - tamarinds, which I saw to my great astonishment rising from - the midst of a sterile soil. Suddenly the Bethlemites stopped - and pointed to something which I had not perceived, at the - bottom of a ravine. Without being able to say what it was, I - caught a glimpse as though of a kind of sand moving over the - immobility of the soil. I approached this singular object, - and I saw a yellow river which I had some difficulty in - distinguishing from the sand of its two banks. It was deeply - embanked, and flowed slowly in a thick stream: it was the - Jordan.... - - "The Bethlemites stripped and plunged into the Jordan. I did - not dare to follow their lead, because of the fever which - still troubled me." - -[Sidenote: Jerusalem.] - -We returned to Jerusalem; Julien was not much struck with the sacred -places: like a true philosopher, he was dry[697]. - -I left Jerusalem, arrived at Jaffa, and took ship for Alexandria. From -Alexandria I went to Cairo, and I left Julien with M. Drovetti, who had -the kindness to charter an Austrian vessel for me for Tunis. Julien -continued his journal at Alexandria: - -"There are Jews here," he says, "who gamble in stocks, as they do -wherever they are. Half a league from the city stands Pompey's Column, -which is in reddish granite, mounted on a block of hewn stone." - - MY ITINERARY. - - "On the 23rd of November, at midday, the wind having - become favourable, I went on board the vessel. I embraced - M. Drovetti on the shore, and we made mutual promises of - friendship and remembrance: I am paying my debt to-day. - - "We heaved the anchor at two o'clock. A pilot brought us - out of harbour. The wind was faint and southerly. We kept - for three days within sight of Pompey's Column, which we - discovered on the horizon. On the evening of the third day we - heard the evening gun of the port of Alexandria. This was as - it were the signal for our definite departure, for the north - wind rose and we made sail for the west. - - "On the 1st of December, the wind, veering due west, stopped - our way. Gradually it fell to the south-west and turned into - a tempest which did not cease until we reached Tunis. To - occupy my time, I copied out and set in order my notes on - this voyage and my descriptions for the _Martyrs._ At night, - I walked the deck with the mate, Captain Dinelli. Nights - spent amid the waves, on a vessel beaten by the storm, are - not barren; the uncertainty of our future gives objects - their true value: the land, contemplated from the midst of a - tempestuous sea, resembles life as it presents itself to a - man about to die[698]." - -We continued our voyage and anchored before the Kerkenna Isles. - - MY ITINERARY. - - "A gale rose, to our great delight, from the south-east, and - in five days we arrived in the waters of the island of Malta. - We came into sight of it on Christmas Eve; but, on Christmas - Day, the wind, shifting to west-north-west, drove us to the - south of Lampedusa. We remained for eighteen days off the - east coast of the Kingdom of Tunis, between life and death. - I shall never in my life forget the day of the 28th. - - "We cast anchor before the Kerkenna Isles. For eight days - we lay at anchor in the Gulf of Cabes, where I saw the - commencement of the year 1807. Under how many planets and - amid what varied fortunes had I already seen the years renew - for me, years which pass so quickly or which are so long! - How far away from me were those times of my childhood in - which, with a heart beating with joy, I received the paternal - blessing and the paternal gifts! How I used to look forward - to New Year's Day! And now, on a foreign vessel, in the - middle of the sea, within sight of a barbarous land, that New - Year's Day sped for me without witnesses, without pleasures, - without the kisses of my family, without the fond wishes of - happiness which a mother shapes with such sincerity for her - sons! That day, born in the womb of the tempests, let fall on - my head nought but cares, regrets and silver hairs." - - -[Sidenote: The Kerkenna Isles.] - -Julien is exposed to the same fate, and he rebukes me for one of those -fits of impatience of which I have, fortunately, corrected myself. - - JULIEN'S ITINERARY. - - "We were very near the island of Malta, and we had reason - to fear that we might be seen by some English vessel, which - could have forced us to enter the harbour; but we encountered - none. Our crew was greatly exhausted, and the wind continued - to be unfavourable to us. The captain, seeing on his chart - an anchorage called Kerkenna, from which we were at no great - distance, made sail for it without telling Monsieur, who, - seeing that we were approaching that anchorage, became angry - at not having been consulted, and said to the captain that - he ought to continue his course, having been through worse - weather. But we had gone too far to resume our course, and - besides, the captain's prudence was highly approved, for - that night the wind grew much stronger and the sea very bad. - Finding that we were obliged to remain in the anchoring-place - four-and-twenty hours longer than was foreseen, Monsieur gave - the captain lively marks of his discontent, in spite of the - good reasons which the latter gave him. - - "We had been a month at sea, and we only wanted seven or - eight hours to reach the port of Tunis. Suddenly the wind - became so violent that we were obliged to stand out to sea, - and we remained three weeks without being able to touch the - port. Thereupon Monsieur once more reproached the captain - with having wasted thirty-six hours at the anchorage. It was - impossible to persuade him that a greater misfortune would - have befallen us if the captain had been less foreseeing. - The misfortune which I anticipated was to see our provisions - diminishing, without knowing when we should arrive." - -At last I trod Carthaginian soil. I found the most generous hospitality -at the hands of M. and Madame Devoise. Julien describes my host well; -he also speaks of the country and the Jews: - -"They pray and weep," says he. - -An American man-of-war brig gave me a passage on board, and I crossed -the lake of Tunis to go to the port. - -"On the way," says Julien, "I asked Monsieur if he had taken the gold -which he had put into the writing-table in his bed-room; he told me he -had forgotten it, and I was obliged to return to Tunis." - -I can never keep money in my mind. - -When I arrived from Alexandria, we cast anchor opposite the ruins of -the city of Hannibal[699]. I looked at them from the deck without -guessing what they were. I saw a few Moorish huts, a Mussulman -hermitage on the point of a prominent head-land, some sheep grazing -among ruins, ruins so unapparent that I could hardly distinguish them -from the ground on which they stood: that was Carthage. I visited it -before embarking for Europe. - - MY ITINERARY. - - "From the top of Byrsa, the eye embraces the ruins of - Carthage, which are more numerous than is generally believed: - they resemble those of Sparta, having nothing in a good state - of preservation, but occupying a considerable space. I saw - them in the month of February; the fig-trees, olive-trees, - and carobs were already putting out their young leaves; - large angelicas and acanthas formed tufts of verdure among - the ruins of marble of every colour. In the distance, I - turned my gaze over the isthmus, a two-fold sea, far islands, - a smiling country-side, bluey lakes, azured mountains; I - descried forests, ships, aqueducts, Moorish villages, - Mohammedan hermitages, minarets, and the white houses of - Tunis. Millions of starlings, gathered into battalions and - resembling clouds, flew above my head. Surrounded by the - greatest and most touching memories, I thought of Dido[700], - of Sophonisba[701], of Hasdrubal's noble spouse[702]; I - viewed the vast plains in which the legions of Hannibal, - Scipio[703], and Cæsar[704] lie buried; my eyes tried to - recognise the site of the Palace of Utica. Alas, the remains - of the palace of Tiberius[705] still exist at Capri, and we - look in vain at Utica for the spot where stood Cato's[706] - house! Lastly, the terrible Vandals, the light Moors passed - in turn before my memory, which showed me, as a final - picture, St. Louis dying on the ruins of Carthage[707]." - -* - -[Sidenote: The ruins of Carthage.] - -Julien, like myself, takes his last view of Africa at Carthage[708]. - -Julien briefly narrates our passage from Tunis to the Bay of Gibraltar; -from Algeciras he promptly arrives at Cadiz, and from Cadiz at Granada. -Careless of Blanca, he observes only that "the Alhambra and other lofty -buildings stand on rocks of immense height." My own _Itinéraire_ does -not give many more details on Granada; I content myself with saying: - -"The Alhambra seems to me to be worthy of note, even after the temples -of Greece. The valley of Granada is delightful, and much resembles -that of Sparta: it is easy to conceive that the Moors regret so fine a -country." - -I have described the Alhambra in the _Dernier des Abencerages._[709] -The Alhambra, the Generalife, the Monte-Santo are impressed upon my -mind like those fantastic landscapes of which often, at peep of day, -one imagines that one catches a glimpse in the first brilliant ray of -the dawn. I still feel that I possess sufficient sense of nature to -paint the Vega[710]; but I should not dare to attempt it, for fear -of "the Archbishop of Granada[711]." During my stay in the town of -the sultanas, a guitar-player, driven by an earthquake from a village -through which I had just passed, had devoted himself to me. Deaf as a -post, he followed me wherever I went: when I sat down on a ruin in the -Palace of the Moors, he stood and sang by my side, accompanying himself -on his guitar. The harmonious vagrant would not perhaps have composed -the symphony of the _Creation_[712], but his dusky skin showed through -his tattered cloak, and he would have had a great need to write as did -Beethoven[713] to Fraülein Breuning: - -"Revered Eleonora, my dearest friend, how gladly would I be the -possessor of a rabbits'-wool waistcoat of your knitting." - -I travelled from end to end of that Spain in which, sixteen years -later, Heaven reserved to me a great part, that of aiding in stamping -out anarchy in a noble nation and delivering a Bourbon: the honour of -our arms was restored, and I should have saved the Legitimacy, had the -Legitimacy been able to understand the conditions of its continuance. - -Julien does not allow me to escape until he has brought me back to -the Place Louis XV. at three o'clock in the afternoon of the 5th of -June 1807. From Granada he conducts me to Aranjuez, to Madrid, to the -Escurial, whence he jumps to Bayonne. - - "We left Bayonne," he says, "on Tuesday the 9th of May, for - Pau, Tarbes, Barèges and Bordeaux, where we arrived on the - 18th, very tired, and both with a touch of fever. We left on - the 19th and went to Angoulême and Tours, and we arrived on - the 28th at Blois, where we slept. On the 31st we continued - our journey to Orleans, and later we spent our last night at - Angerville." - -* - -[Sidenote: Back in France.] - -I was there, at one stage from a country-seat[714] whose inhabitants -my long voyage had not caused me to forget. But the gardens of Armida, -where were they? Two or three times, when returning to the Pyrenees, -I have caught sight of the Column of Méréville[715]; like Pompey's -Column, it acquainted me with the presence of the desert: like my -fortunes at sea, all has changed. - -I reached Paris before the news I sent of myself: I had out-distanced -my life. Insignificant as are the letters which I wrote, I go -through them as one looks over inferior sketches representing the -places one has visited. Those notes, dated from Modon, Athens, Zea, -Constantinople, Jaffa, Jerusalem, Alexandria, Tunis, Granada, Madrid, -and Burgos, those lines written on every manner of paper, with every -manner of ink, carried by all the winds, interest me. I love unrolling -even my very firmans: it is a pleasure to me to touch the vellum, to -observe the elegant caligraphy, to wonder at the pomp of the style. -How great a personage I must have been! And what poor devils we are, -with our letters and our forty-sou passports, beside those lords of the -turban! - -Osman Seïd, Pasha of Morea, thus addresses to whomsoever it may concern -my firman for Athens: - - "Men of law of the townships of Misitra[716] and Argos, - cadis, nadirs, and eflendis, of whom may the wisdom ever - increase; you who are the honour of your peers and our - great men, vaïvodes, and you through whose eyes your master - sees, who replace him in each of your jurisdictions, public - officers and business men, whose credit can only grow greater. - - "We inform you that of the nobles of France, one noble in - particular from Paris, the bearer of this order, accompanied - by an armed janissary and by a servant as his escort, has - solicited permission and explained his intention to pass - through some of the places and localities which are within - your jurisdictions in order to go to Athens, which is an - isthmus lying beyond and separated from your jurisdictions. - - "Wherefore, effendis, vaïvodes, and all others - above-mentioned, when the aforesaid person shall arrive at - the places subject to your jurisdiction, you shall take the - greatest care that he be treated with all the particular - consideration of which friendship makes a law, etc., etc - - "Year 1221 of the Hegira." - -My passport from Constantinople for Jerusalem says: - - "To the sublime tribunal of His Grandeur the Cadi of - Kouds[717], Scherif and Most Excellent Effendi: - - "Most Excellent Effendi, may Your Grandeur seated on your - august tribunal accept our sincere blessings and our - affectionate greetings. - - "We inform you that a noble personage from the Court of - France, named François Auguste de Chateaubriand, is at - present on his way towards you to make the _holy_ pilgrimage - (of the Christians)." - -Would we extend a like protection to the unknown traveller with the -mayors and gendarmes who inspect his passport? In these firmans we can -also read the revolutions of the nations: how many "permits" has it -required that God should grant to the empires, before a Tartar slave -could lay orders upon a vaïvode of Misistra, that is, a magistrate of -Sparta; before a Mussulman could recommend a Christian to the Cadi of -Kouds, that is, of Jerusalem! - -The _Itinéraire_ has entered into the elements that compose my life. -When I set out in 1806, a pilgrimage to Jerusalem appeared a great -undertaking. Now that the crowd has followed in my steps and that the -whole world is in the diligence, the wonder of it has vanished; I have -little left of my own save Tunis: people have travelled less in that -direction, and it has been allowed that I pointed out the real sights -of the ports of Carthage. This creditable letter proves it: - - "MONSIEUR LE VICOMTE, - - "I have just received a plan of the ground and ruins of - Carthage, giving the exact outlines and inclinations of the - soil; it has been taken trigonometrically on a basis of - 1500 meters, and rests upon barometrical observations made - with corresponding barometers. It is a work of ten years - of precision and patience; and it confirms your opinions - regarding the position of the ports of Byrsa. - - "With this exact plan I have gone over all the ancient texts, - and have, I believe, determined the outer circumference and - the other portions of the Cothon, Byrsa, Megara, etc., etc. - I wish to do you the right which is your due upon so many - scores. - - "If you are not afraid to see me swoop down upon your genius - with my trigonometry and my heavy erudition, I will be with - you at the first sign from yourself. If we, my father[718] - and I, follow you in literature _longissimo intervallo_, - at least we shall have tried to imitate you in the noble - independence of which you set France so fine an example. - - "I have the honour to be, and I am proud of it, your frank - admirer, - - "DUREAU DE LA MALLE[719]." - -[Sidenote: My geographical accuracy.] - -So accurate a rectification of localities would formerly have been -sufficient to give me a name in geography. From this time forward, -if I still had a mania for being talked about, I do not know where -I could go in order to attract the attention of the public: perhaps -I should resume my old plan of discovering the passage to the North -Pole; perhaps I should ascend the Ganges. There I should see the long, -straight, dark line of the woods which defend the approach to the -Himalayas; when, after reaching the neck which joins the two principal -peaks of Mount Ganghur, I descried the immeasurable amphitheatre of -the eternal snows, and should ask my guides, as did Heber[720], the -Anglican Bishop of Calcutta, the name of the other mountains in the -East, they would reply that they marked the border of the Chinese -Empire: well and good! But to return from the Pyramids is as though -you returned from Montlhéry[721]. By the by, I remember that a pious -antiquary, who lived near Saint-Denis in France wrote to me to ask if -Pontoise did not resemble Jerusalem. - -The last page of the _Itinéraire_ is as though I had written it this -moment, so exactly does it reproduce my present sentiments. - - "For twenty years," I said, "I have devoted myself to study - amid hazards and troubles of every kind, _diversa exsilia et - desertas quærere terras_: many of the pages of my books have - been written under canvas, in the deserts, upon the ocean; I - have often held the pen without knowing how I should for a - few instants prolong my existence.... If Heaven grant me a - repose which I have never tasted, I will try in silence to - raise a monument to my country; if Providence refuse me that - repose, I must think only of shielding my last days from the - cares which have embittered the first. I am no longer young, - I no longer have the love of fame; I know that literature, - the commerce of which is so sweet when it is secret, only - draws down storms upon us from the outside. In any case, I - have written enough if my name is to live; far too much if it - is to die." - -It is possible that my _Itinéraire_ may survive as a manual for the -use of Wandering Jews like myself: I have scrupulously noted the -halting-places, and drawn a map of the roads. All the travellers to -Jerusalem have written to congratulate me and thank me for my accuracy; -I will quote one witness[722]. - -* - -I see before me, of the sites of Syria, Egypt and Carthage, only -the spots in harmony with my solitary nature; these pleased me -independently of antiquity, art or history. The Pyramids struck me not -so much on account of their size, as of the desert against which they -were set; Diocletian's Column did not catch my eye as did the segments -of the sea along the sands of Lybia. At the Pelusian mouth of the Nile, -I should not have wished fora monument to remind me of the scene thus -depicted by Plutarch: - - "The enfranchised slave, casting his eyes over the shore, - spied the old remains of a fishing-boat, which, though not - large, would make a sufficient pile for a poor naked body - that was not quite entire. While he was collecting the pieces - of plank, and putting them together, an old Roman, who had - made some of his first campaigns under Pompey, came up, and - said to Philip: - - "Who are you that are preparing the funeral of Pompey the - Great?' - - "Philip answered: - - "'I am his freedman.' - - "'But you shall not,' said the old Roman, 'have this honour - entirely to yourself. As a work of piety offers itself, let - me have a share in it; that I may not absolutely repent my - having passed so many years in a foreign country; but, to - compensate many misfortunes, may have the consolation of - doing some of the last honours to the greatest general Rome - ever produced[723].'" - -Cæsar's rival no longer has a tomb near Lybia, and a young Lybian -slave-girl has received burial at the hands of a Pompey not far from -the Rome whence the great Pompey was banished. From these freaks of -fortune one conceives how the Christians used to go and hide themselves -in the Thebaïde[724]. - -The winds have scattered the personages of Europe, Asia, Africa, -amid whom I appeared and of whom I have told you: one fell from the -Acropolis at Athens, another from the shore of Chios, another flung -himself from Mount Sion, yet another will never emerge from the waves -of the Nile or the tanks of Carthage. The places themselves have -changed: in the same way, as in America, cities have sprung up where I -saw forests, an empire is being formed on those sands of Egypt where -my eyes encountered only "horizons bare and rounded like the boss of a -shield," as the Arab poems say, "and wolves so thin that their jaws are -like a cleft stick." Greece has recovered the liberty which I wished -her when travelling across her under the guard of a janissary. But -does she enjoy her national liberty, or has she merely changed her yoke? - -[Sidenote: The future of the East.] - -In some measure I am the last visitor of the Turkish Empire under -its old customs. The revolutions which have everywhere immediately -preceded, or followed upon, my footsteps have spread over Greece, -Syria, Egypt. Is a new East about to be formed? What will it bring -forth? Shall we receive our just punishment for having taught -the modern art of warfare to nations whose social state is based -upon slavery and polygamy? Have we carried civilization beyond -our boundaries, or have we brought barbarism within the circle of -Christianity? What will result from the new interests, the new -political relations, the creation of the Powers which may spring up in -the Levant? No one can tell. I do not allow myself to be dazzled by -steam-boats and railways, by the sale of the produce of manufactures, -and by the fortunes of a few French, English, German, Italian soldiers -enrolled in a pasha's service: all that is not civilization. Perhaps we -shall behold the return, through the aid of the disciplined troops of -future Ibrahims, of the perils which threatened Europe at the time of -Charles the Hammer[725], and from which we were saved by the generous -Poland. I pity the travellers who shall succeed me: the harem will no -longer hide its secrets from them; they will not have seen the old sun -of the East and the turban of Mahomet. The little Bedouin called out to -me in French, when I passed into the mountains of Judæa: - -"Forward, march!" - -The order was given, and the East marched. - -* - -[Sidenote: _MEMENTO MORI._] - -What became of Ulysses' companion, Julien? He asked, when handing me -his manuscript, to be made _concierge_ of my house in the Rue d'Enfer: -this place was occupied by an old porter and his family, whom I could -not send away. The wrath of Heaven having made Julien headstrong and -a drunkard, I supported him for a long time; at last we were obliged -to part. I gave him a small sum, and granted him a little pension on -my privy purse, a somewhat light one, but always copiously filled -with excellent notes mortgaged on my castles in Spain. I obtained -Julien's admission, at his wish, to the Old Men's asylum: there -he finished the last great journey. I shall soon go to occupy his -empty bed, even as, in the camp of Etnir-Capi, I slept on a mat from -which a plague-stricken Mussulman had just been removed. My vocation -is positively for the almshouse, in which the old society lies. It -pretends to live, but is none the less at death's door. When it has -expired, it will decompose in order to be reproduced under new forms, -but it must first succumb; the first necessity for peoples, as for man, -is to die: - -"When God bloweth, there cometh frost," says Job[726]. - - - -[649] This book was written in Paris in 1839, and revised in December -1846.--T. - -[650] Diane de Poitiers (1499-1566) was the daughter of Jean de -Poitiers, Seigneur de Saint-Vallier, and married in 1512 Louis de -Brézé, Comte de Maulevrier, who died in 1531. Some years later she -became mistress to Henry II., then Duc d'Orléans, who shortly after -his accession created her Duchesse de Valentinois. She retained her -empire over the King and her power in France until Henry's death, which -occurred in 1559.--T. - -[651] Hervé Louis François Joseph Bonaventure Clérel, Comte de -Tocqueville (1772-1856) was made a peer of France and a prefect -under the Restoration. He was married to Mademoiselle de Rosanbo, a -grand-daughter of Malesherbes.--T. - -[652] Anne Nicole Marquise de Senozan (1718-1794), _née_ de Lamoignon -de Blancménil, sister to Malesherbes and wife of the Président de -Senozan. She mounted the scaffold on the 10th of May 1794, on the same -day as Madame Élisabeth, at the age of seventy-six, and her estate -passed later into the possession of her grand-nephew, the Comte de -Tocqueville.--B. - -[653] The Château de Verneuil in the Department of Seine-et-Oise.--B. - -[654] Alexis Charles Henri Clérel de Tocqueville (1805-1859) was -appointed an assistant judge, and in 1831 was sent to America, in -company with Gustave de Beaumont, to study the penal system on that -continent. On his return he published a treatise on this subject, and -in 1835 appeared his great work on American Democracy, which secured -his election to the Academy of Moral Science in 1839 and to the French -Academy in 1841. Two years earlier he had been sent to the Chamber -as deputy for the Arrondissement of Valognes, in Normandy, in which -his father's property of Tocqueville was situated, and this seat he -retained until his withdrawal from political life in 1851. He was -Minister of Foreign Affairs under the Presidency of Louis Napoleon -Bonaparte from June to October 1849.--T. - -[655] Michel Lepelletier de Saint-Fargeau (1760-1793), a renegade -representative of the Paris nobility, which sent him to the -States-General in 1789. In 1792 he became a member of the Convention, -where he voted in favour of the death of Louis XVI.; and on the 20th -of January 1793, the day before the execution of the King, he was -assassinated in a restaurant by an old Bodyguard called Paris. His body -was conveyed to the Pantheon in state, and the Convention adopted his -daughter, then eight years old.--T. - -[656] The Château du Ménil is in the commune of Fontenay-Saint-Père, -canton of Limay, Arrondissement of Mantes, Department of Seine-et-Oise. -It is now the property of M. le Marquis de Rosanbo.--B. - -[657] The Château de Mézy is in the canton of Meulan, Department of -Seine-et-Oise.--B. - -[658] The Château de Méréville is in Beauce. It had formerly belonged -to a celebrated Court banker, Jean Joseph de La Borde, guillotined in -1794, who had turned it into a dwelling of finished splendour. The -park, laid out by Robert, the landscape-painter, was a marvel. One of -La Borde's daughters had married the Comte de Noailles, later Duc de -Mouchy.--B. - -[659] Blanca is the heroine of the _Aventures du dernier -Abencerage._--T. - -[660] Marie Anne Louise Adélaïde Marquise de Coislin (1732-1817), _née_ -de Mailly, of the Rubempré and Nesle branch, was the daughter of Louis -de Mailly, Comte de Rubempré and cousin to the four Mesdemoiselles de -Mailly, daughters of the Marquis de Nesle--the Comtesse de Mailly, the -Comtesse de Vintimille, the Duchesse de Lauraguais, and the Marquise -de La Tournelle, afterwards Duchesse de Châteauroux--who successively -became mistresses to Louis XV. She married first, in 1750, Charles -Georges René de Cambout, Marquis de Coislin, who died in 1771, leaving -no children living. More than twenty years later, in 1793, the Marquise -de Coislin, then over sixty, married one of her cousins, twelve years -younger than herself, Louis Marie Duc de Mailly, who died and left her -a widow for the second time in 1795. There is reason to believe that -this marriage was never legally consecrated, as the Duchesse de Mailly -continued to be called Marquise de Coislin.--B. - -[661] Now the Place de la Concorde. The house stands at the corner -of the Rue Royale, facing the Ministry of Marine, formerly the Crown -Wardrobe.--T. - -[662] This title is the appanage of the Marquisate of Nesle.--T. - -[663] Killed at the Battle of Courtrai in 1302.--T. - -[664] Claude Joseph Vernet (1714-1789), the father of Carle and -grandfather of Horace Vernet. Louis XV. commissioned him to paint the -principal French ports. The majority of his sea-pieces are now at the -Louvre.--T. - -[665] Marie Anne de Mailly (1719-1744) married the Marquis de La -Tournelle in 1734. He left her a widow at the age of twenty-three, -and she became mistress, in succession to her sisters Mesdames de -Vintimille and de Mailly, to Louis XV., who created her Duchesse de -Châteauroux. She obtained the support of the Duc de Richelieu, and was -for a time all-powerful at Court, accompanying Louis at the head of -his armies in Flanders and Alsace. In 1744, when the King fell ill, -she was sent back to Paris in disgrace, but was restored to favour on -his recovery, and was on the point of becoming Superintendent of the -Dauphiness' Household, when she died a sudden death, attributed by some -to poison.--T. - -[666] Louise Julie Comtesse de Mailly (1710-1751), the first of the -Nesle family to become the mistress of Louis XV. She amended her life -when deserted in favour of one of her sisters, and was doubtless the -most estimable and sympathetic of the four.--T. - -[667] A reference to an epigram in the Anthology.--B. - -[668] Queen Marie Leczinska (1703-1768), daughter of Stanislaus -Leczinski, ex-King of Poland, and married to Louis XV. in 1725.--T. - -[669] Madame Suard (1750-1830), _née_ Panckoucke, sister of Panckoucke, -the printer, founder of the _Moniteur universel_, and herself -the author of several agreeable works. Her salon was a favourite -meeting-place of the Encyclopædists under Louis XVI.--B. - -[670] Jean Baptiste Antoine Suard (1734-1817) took part in the editing -of an English newspaper printed in Paris, became a member of the -Academy in 1772, and obtained a censorship in 1774. At the Revolution, -he became a moderate member of the new party. In 1803 he was appointed -perpetual secretary to the Institute. His works consist mainly of -translations from the English: Cook's _Voyages_, Robertson's _History -of America_, etc.--T. - -[671] Pierre Michel Hennin (1728-1807) was Secretary of Embassy in -Poland in 1759, Resident at Warsaw in 1763, Resident at Geneva in -1765, and in 1779 became First Clerk at the Foreign Office, a post -in which he did eminent service until 1792, when he was dismissed by -General Dumouriez. He was obliged to sell his collections, and took to -"scribbling fat novels" for a livelihood, working at learning languages -and at his writing until his death, on the 5th of July 1807, at the age -of nearly eighty.--B. - -[672] Claude Antoine de Bésiade, Duc d'Avaray (1740-1829), brother to -the Comte d'Avaray, Louis XVIII.'s companion in exile and chief agent. -D'Avaray was imprisoned during the Terror, recovered his liberty on the -9 Thermidor, and emigrated, returning to France in 1814. Louis XVIII. -raised him to the peerage in 1815, created him a duke in 1817, and made -him his First Chamberlain in 1820.--B. - -[673] _Cinq jours à Clermont (Auvergne) 2, 3, 4, 5 et 6 août_ 1805 and -_Le Mont-Blanc, paysages de montagnes, fin d'août_ 1805. They appear in -Vol. VI. of the complete works.--B. - -[674] Honoré d'Urfé (1567-1625), after a life spent in war and -diplomacy, wrote the famous pastoral romance of the _Astrée_, in which -he depicted the happiness of the shepherds of the Lignon. The singular -book was received with the greatest favour, and gave rise to a whole -school of bucolic novelists. D'Urfé died before completing his work, -and his secretary, Baro, finished it from the author's manuscripts or -his own imagination.--T. - -[675] Claude Ignace Brugière de Barante (1745-1814). Napoleon dismissed -him because of the indulgence shown by him to Madame de Staël, and he -died at the moment when the return of the Bourbons appeared to promise -him a just reparation.--B. - -[676] Louis Nicolas Philippe Auguste Comte de Forbin (1779-1841), a -successful writer and painter, and a member of the Academy of Fine -Arts. Under the Restoration he became Director of the Museums.--T. - -[677] Mathurin Régnier (1573-1613), the first of the French satiric -poets. He received the tonsure at the age of thirteen, obtained a rich -canonry before he was thirty, and died at forty of his pleasures and -excesses.--T. - -[678] OPPIAN, _Cynegetica_, II. 348.--B. - -[679] Jeanne Françoise Thévenin (1763-1841), known as Sophie Devienne, -acted at the Comédie Française from 1785 to 1813, and was one of the -best "waiting-maids" at that classic theatre.--B. - -[680] St. Pothin (87-177), one of the first apostles to the Gauls, -became Bishop of Lyons, where he suffered martyrdom at the age of -nearly ninety years. He is honoured on the 2nd of June.--T. - -[681] St. Ireneus (_circa_ 120--_circa_ 202) succeeded St. Pothin in -the Bishopric of Lyons, and suffered martyrdom like his predecessor, -his feast falling on the 28th of June.--T. - -[682] François de Mandelot (1520-1588), Governor of Lyonnais, -distinguished himself by his wholesale murder of the Lyons Protestants -on St. Bartholomew's Night.--T. - -[683] The Allées des Brotteaux, Lyons, where the condemned were shot -under the Revolution.--T. - -[684] Loyse Labbé (1526-1566), known as _la Belle Cordière_, married a -rich merchant cord-spinner of Lyons called Perrin. She had been well -educated, devoted herself to literature, and left a number of poems.--T. - -[685] St. Cyprian (_circa_ 200-258), Bishop of Carthage, persecuted -under Decius, and exiled and martyred under Valerian. He was the author -of the famous treatise on the Lapsed from which the above quotation is -taken. St. Cyprian is honoured on the 16th of September.--T. - -[686] Eustache Le Sueur (1617-1655), known as the French Raphael, the -first painter of the French school under Louis XIV. Persecuted by his -envious rivals, he retired to the Chartreuse on the death of his wife, -and painted for the monastery his greatest work, the Life of St. Bruno, -in twenty-two pictures.--T. - -[687] St. Bruno (_circa_ 1040-1101), Founder of the Carthusian Order, -and honoured on the 6th of October.--T. - -[688] The certificate of death has since been discovered. Madame de -Caud died in the Marais, at No. 6, Rue d'Orléans, on the 18 Brumaire, -Year XIII (9 November 1804).--B. - -[689] On the 13th of November 1804, Chateaubriand, who was then staying -at Villeneuve-sur-Yonne with his friend Joubert, wrote to Chênedollé: - - "Madame de Caud is no more. She died in Paris on the 9th. We - have lost the most beautiful soul, the most exalted genius, - that ever existed. You see that I am born for every sorrow. - In how few days has Lucile gone to join Pauline [Madame - de Beaumont]! Come, my dear friend, and weep with me this - winter, in January. You will find a man who is inconsolable, - but who is your friend for life.--Joubert sends you a million - loves."--B. - -[690] Chateaubriand's family at that date comprised Madame la Comtesse -de Marigny; Madame la Comtesse de Chateaubourg, and their children; the -daughter of the Comtesse Julie de Farcy; and the sons of the Comte de -Chateaubriand.--B. - -[691] The juxtaposition of the names of Julien and Clarke, is somewhat -forced. Edward Clarke was not Cook's valet, but his companion and his -rival in fame. He three times circumnavigated the world. Both left -Plymouth together, on the 12th of July 1776, Captain Cook commanding -the _Discovery_ and Captain Clarke the _Resolution._ After the death of -Cook, killed by the natives of Owhyhee, on the 14th of February 1779, -Clarke succeeded him in the command of the expedition, and himself died -as he was arriving in Kamchatka. The _Discovery_ and the _Resolution_ -returned to England on the 4th of October 1780.--B. - -[692] I omit a portion of the extracts from the servant's Itinerary. -These will be indicated in their places.--T. - -[693] At Trieste.--T. - -[694] _De Sparte et d'Athènes._--_Author's Note._ - -[695] I omit Julien's description of the streets of Constantinople.--T. - -[696] I omit a quotation from Julien's narrative.--T. - -[697] I omit Julien's observations here.--T. - -[698] I omit a quotation from Julien's Itinerary.--T. - -[699] Hannibal (247-183 B.C.), the famous Carthaginian general.--T. - -[700] Dido Queen of Tyre founded Carthage _circa_ 860 B.C.--T. - -[701] Sophonisba (235-203 B.C.), daughter of the third Hasdrubal, -was betrothed to Masinissa King of Massylia and Numidia, but married -in his stead his rival Syphax. Masinissa recaptured his domains from -the latter, and with them his wife, whom he married. When Scipio, -however, insisted upon Sophonisba's appearance in his triumph in Rome, -Masinissa, to save her from this disgrace, sent her poison. Her story -is the subject of one of Voltaire's tragedies.--T. - -[702] When the fourth Hasdrubal (170-100 B.C.), then commander of -Carthage, surrendered to Scipio, his wife, horrified at his treachery, -killed her children before his eyes, and then threw herself into the -flames, 146 B.C.--T. - -[703] Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus (_circa_ 235-184 B.C.).--T. - -[704] Caius Julius Cæsar (100-44 B.C.) defeated Metellus Scipio and -Cato at Carthage in 46 B.C.--T. - -[705] Tiberius Claudius Nero (42 B.C.-37 A.D.), the second Roman -Emperor. Capri contains the ruins of his twelve palaces.--T. - -[706] Marcus Portius Cato (95-46 B.C.), known as Cato the Younger, or -Uticensis, sided against Cæsar with Pompey, and retired to Utica after -the defeat of the latter. He prepared to resist Cæsar in Africa, but -when Metellus had been beaten, stabbed himself rather than fall into -his enemy's hands.--T. - -[707] In 1270, on his way to Palestine, in the course of his second -(the Eighth) Crusade.--T. - -[708] I omit this portion of Julien's Itinerary.--T. - -[709] Written under the Empire, but first published in 1827, in Volume -XVI. of the Complete Works, with the title, _Les Aventures du dernier -Abencerage._--B. - -[710] The beautiful valley overlooking Granada referred to above.--T. - -[711] _Cf._ LE SAGE, _Gil Blas._--T. - -[712] By Joseph Haydn (1732-1809).--T. - -[713] Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827), the great composer.--T. - -[714] The Château de Malesherbes, situated at six kilometers from -Angerville, and belonging to Louis de Chateaubriand, the writer's -nephew. It is to-day the property of Madame la Marquise de Beaufort, -_née_ de Chateaubriand.--T. - -[715] The column standing in the grounds of the Château de Méréville, -equalling the column of the Place Vendôme in height, and commanding a -view of over twenty leagues in extent.--B. - -[716] Sparta.--_Author's Note._ - -[717] Jerusalem.--_Author's Note._ - -[718] Jean Baptiste René Dureau de La Malle (1742-1807), a native of -San Domingo, who settled in Paris and devoted his large fortune to -literature. He published translations of Seneca (1776), Sallust (1808), -and Tacitus (1793), the last of which was twice reprinted (1808 and -1816), and he was at work on a translation of Livy when he died. He -became a member of the Institute in 1804.--T. - -[719] Adolphe Jules César Auguste Dureau de La Malle (1777-1857), -author of a number of learned works and some poems, and a considerable -authority on the geography and statistics of the nations of antiquity. -In the year in which the above letter was written he published his -_Géographie physique de la Méditerranée et de la mer Noire._ He was -admitted in 1818 to the Academy of Inscriptions, and in 1840 published -his greatest work, the _Économie politique des Romains._--T. - -[720] Reginald Heber, Bishop of Calcutta (1783-1826), was appointed to -his bishopric in 1822. He was the author of a volume of Hymns (1819), -and of a narrative of a Journey through India, published after his -death by his widow.--T. - -[721] A market town in the Department of Seine-et-Oise, some twelve -miles from Paris.--T. - -[722] I omit this letter and some others addressed to the author from -the East; also a letter addressed by Fénelon to Bossuet on the eve of -the former's departure for Greece.--T. - -[723] Langhorne's PLUTARCH: _Life of Pompey._--T. - -[724] I omit a quotation from the Anthology.--T. - -[725] Charles Martel, or the Hammer, Duke of Austrasia (_circa_ -691-741), reigned over France with the title of Mayor of the Palace, -and in 732 gained a complete victory over the Saracens between Tours -and Poitiers, which put an end to the Mussulman invasion, and assured -the Christianization of Europe.--T. - -[726] JOB, XXXVII. 10.--T. - -END OF VOL. II. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Memoirs of François René Vicomte -de Chateaubriand sometime Ambassador to England, by François René Chateaubriand -and Alexander Teixeira de Mattos - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MEMOIRS; V 2/6 *** - -***** This file should be named 54788-0.txt or 54788-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/7/8/54788/ - -Produced by Laura Natal Rodriguez & Marc D'Hooghe at Free -Literature (online soon in an extended version, also linking -to free sources for education worldwide ... MOOC's, -educational materials,...) 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