The next day we had the melancholy satisfaction of hearing that Louis XVIII. also had safely passed the frontiers of his lost kingdom. As we were less fearful, now, of making inquiries, M. de Lally soon learnt that his majesty had halted at Lille, where he was then waiting permission and directions for a place of retreat from the King of Holland, or the Netherlands. But no intelligence whatsoever could we gain relative to the body-guards, and my disturbance increased, every moment.
There was far more commotion at Tournay than at any other town through which we passed; for as the people here were not under the French government, either old or new, they were not awed into waiting to know to which they should belong, in fearful passiveness : yet they had all the perplexity upon their minds of disquieting ignorance whether they were to be treated as friends or foes, since if Bonaparte prevailed they could not but expect to be joined again to his dominions. All the commotion, therefore, of divided interests and jarring opinions was awake, and in full operation upon the faculties and feelings of every Belgian at this critical moment.
FUTILE EFFORTS TO COMMUNICATE WITH M. D’ARBLAY.
The horror of my suspense relative to the safety and the fate of Monsieur d’Arblay reduced my mind to a sort of chaos, that makes it impossible to recollect what was our abode at Tournay. I can but relate my distress and my researches.
My first thought was to send a letter to my general at Lille, which if he was there would inform him of my vicinity, and if not, might perhaps find its way to his destination. At all events, I resolved only to write what would be harmless should it fall even into the hands of the enemy. I directed those few lines to M. le Chevalier d’Arblay, officier suprieur du garde du corps de sa majest Louis XVIII. But when I would have sent them to the post, I was informed there was no post then to Lille.
I then sought for a messenger, but was told that Lille was inaccessible. The few letters that were permitted to enter it were placed in a basket, the handle of which was tied to a long cord, that was hooked up to the top of the walls, and thence descended to appointed magistrates.
Vainly I made every effort in my power to avail myself Of this method, no one of my party, nor at the inn,,knew or Page 329 could indicate any means that promised success, or even a trial. Worn at length by an anxiety I found insupportable, I took a resolution to go forth myself, stranger as I was to the place, and try to get my letter conveyed to the basket, however difficult or costly might be its carriage. Quite alone, therefore, I sallied forth, purposing to find, if possible, some sturdy boy who would be glad of such remuneration as I could offer, to pass over to Lille.
Again, however, vain was every attempt. I entered all decent poor houses; sauntered to the suburbs, and entered sundry cottages; but no inquiry could procure either a man or a boy that would execute my commission. French was so generally known that I commonly made myself understood, though I only received a shake of the head, or a silent walking off, in return to my propositions. But in the end, a lad told me he thought he had heard that Madame la Duchesse de St. Agnes had had some intercourse with Lille. Delighted, I desired him to show me the house she inhabited. We walked to it together, and I then said I would saunter near the spot while he entered, with my earnest petition to know whether madame could give me any tidings of the king’s body-guard. He returned with an answer that madame would reply to a written note, but to nothing verbal. I bid the boy hie with me to the inn; but as I had no writing tackle, I sent him forward to procure me proper implements at the stationer’s.
How it happened I know not, but I missed the boy, whom I could never regain and I soon after lost my way myself.
In much perplexity I was seeking information which way to steer, when a distant sound of a party of horse caught my attention. I stopped. The sound approached nearer; the boys and idle people in the street ran forward to meet it, and presently were joined or followed by the more decent inhabitants. I had not the temerity to make one among them, yet my anxiety for news of any sort was too acute to permit me to retire. I stood therefore still, waiting for what might arrive, till I perceived some outriders galloping forward in the royal livery of France. Immediately after, a chariot and four with the arms of France followed, encircled by horsemen, and nearly enveloped by a continually increasing crowd, whence, from time to time, issued a feeble cry of “Vive le roi!” while two or three other carriages brought up the rear. With difficulty now could I forbear plunging into the midst of them, for my big expectations painted to me Louis XVIII. arrived Page 330 at Tournay, and my bigger hopes pictured with him his loyal guard. They had soon however passed by, but their straggling followers showed me their route, which I pursued till I lost both sight and sound belonging to them.
I then loitered for my errand boy, till I found myself, by some indications that helped my remembrance, near the spot whence I had started. . Glad, for safety’s sake, to be so near my then home, though mourning my fruitless wandering, I hastened my footsteps; but what was my emotion on arriving within a few yards of the inn, to observe the royal carriage which had galloped past me, the horsemen, the royal livery and all the appearance that had awakened my dearest hopes’ The crowd was dispersed, but the porter’s lodge, or perhaps bookkeeper’s, was filled with gentlemen, or officers in full uniform. I hurried on, and hastily inquired who it was that had just arrived. My answer was, the Prince de Cond.
A thousand projects now occurred to me for gaining intelligence from such high authority, but in the large courtyard I espied Madame d’Henin sauntering up and down, while holding by the arm of a gentleman I had never before seen. Anxious to avoid delay, and almost equally desirous to escape remonstrances on my enterprise, since I could listen only to my restless anxiety, I would have glided by unnoticed; but she called after me aloud, and I was compelled to approach her. She was all astonishment at my courage in thus issuing forth alone, I knew not where nor whither, and declared that I was mconnoissable; but I only answered by entreating her to inquire the names of some of the gentlemen just arrived, that I might judge whether any among them could give me the information for which I sighed.
No sooner did I hear that M. le Comte de Viomenil was of the number, than, recollecting his recent appointment at Paris, in conjunction with Victor de Maubourg, to raise volunteers for the king, I decided upon seeking him. Madame d’Henin would have given me some counsel, but I could not hear her; as I hurried off, however, the gentleman whose arm she held offered me his assistance in a tone and with a look of so much benevolence, that I frankly accepted it, and we sallied in search of a person known to me only by name. My stranger friend now saved me every exertion, by making every inquiry and led me from corridor to corridor, above, below, and to almost every apartment, asking incessantly if M. le Comte de Viomenil was not in the inn. Page 331
At length we learned that M. de Viomenil was dining quite alone in an upper chamber.
My kind-hearted conductor led me to the door of the room assigned, and then tapped at it; and on an answer of “entrez!” he let go my arm, and with a bow silently left me. I found M. de Viomenil at table : he said he could give no possible account of his majesty, save that he was at Gand, but that of the body-guard he knew positively nothing.
INTERVIEWS WITH M. DE CHATEAUBRIAND.
I afterwards learnt that my benevolent strange chevalier was no other than the celebrated M. de Chteaubriand.(271) I saw nothing more of him, save for a moment, when, in passing by a small staircase that led to my chamber, a door was suddenly opened, whence Madame d’Henin put out her head to invite me to enter, when she presented me to him and to Madame de Chteaubriand, a very elegant woman, but of a cold, reserved demeanour.
I expressed eagerly the pleasure I had experienced in seeing the author of “ The Itinerary to Jerusalem,” a work I had read in Paris with extraordinary interest and satisfaction; but I believe the “Gnie du Christianisme,” and perhaps the “Atala,” were works so much more prized by that author as to make my compliment misplaced. However, I so much more enjoy
the natural, pleasing, instructive, and simple, though ingenious style and matter of the “ Itinerary “ than I do the overpowering sort of heroic eloquence of those more popular performances, that the zest of dear hallowed truth would have been wanting had I not expressed my choice. The “Itinerary” is, indeed, one of the most agreeable books I know.
M. de Chteaubriand hung back, whether pleased or not, with an air of gentlemanly serenity. I had opportunity for further effort : we left Tournay to proceed to Brussels, and heavy was my heart and my will to quit, thus in ignorance, the vicinity of Lille.
At the town at which we stopped to dine which, I think, was Atot, we again met M. et Madame de Chteaubriand. This was a mutual satisfaction, and we agreed to have our meal in common. I now had more leisure, not of time alone, but of faculty, for doing justice to M. de Chateaubriand, whom I found amiable, unassuming, and, though somewhat spoilt by the egregious flattery to which he had been accustomed, wholly free from airs or impertinent selfconceit. Excessive praise seemed only to cause him excessive pleasure in himself, without leading to contempt or scorn of others. He is by no means tall, and is rather thickset - but his features are good, his countenance is very fine, and his eyes are beautiful, alike from colour, shape, and expression; while there is a striking benevolence in his look, tone of voice, and manner.
Madame de Chteaubriand also gained ground by farther acquaintance. She was faded, but not passe, and was still handsome, and of a most graceful carriage, though distant and uninviting. Her loftiness had in it something so pensive mixed with its haughtiness, that though it could not inspire confidence, it did not create displeasure. She possessed also a claim to sympathy and respect in being the niece of M. de Malesherbes, that wise, tender, generous, noble defender of Louis XVI.
The conversation during and after dinner was highly interesting. M. de Chteaubriand opened upon his situation with a trusting unreserve that impressed me with an opinion of the nobleness of his mind. Bonaparte had conceived against him, he said, a peculiar antipathy, for which various motives might be assigned: he enumerated them not, however, probably from the presence of his wife; as his marriage with a niece of that martyr to the service of the murdered king, Louis XVI., I conclude to be at their head. The astonishing and almost boundless success of his works, since he was dissatisfied with his principles, and more than suspicious of his disaffection to the imperial government, must have augmented aversion by mixing with it some species of apprehension. I know not what were the first publications of M. de Chteaubriand, but they were in such high estimation Page 333 when first I heard him mentioned, that no author was more celebrated in France; when his “Martyres” came out, no other book was mentioned; and the famous critic Geoffroyq who guided the taste of Paris, kept it alive by criticisms of alternate praise and censure without end. “Atala,” the pastoral heroic romance, bewitched all the reading ladies into a sort of idolatry of its writer, and scarcely a page of it remained unadorned by some representation in painting. The enthusiasm, indeed, of the draughtsmen and of the fair sex seemed equally emulous to place the author and the work at the head of celebrity and the fashion.
Of all this, of course, he spoke not - but he related the story of his persecution by Napoleon concerning his being elected a member of the French Institute. I was in too much disturbance to be able to clearly listen to the narrative, but I perfectly recollect that the censor, to soften Napoleon, had sent back the manuscript to M. de Chteaubriand, with an intimation that no public discourse could be delivered that did not contain an loge of the Emperor. M. de Chteaubriand complied with the ordinance; but whether the forced praise was too feeble, or whether the aversion was too insuperable, I know not : all that is certain is, that Napoleon, after repeated efforts from the Institute of reelection, positively refused to ratify that of M. de Chteaubriand.(272)
Another time a cousin of this gentleman was reputed to be engaged In a conspiracy against the emperor. M. de Chteaubriand solemnly declared he disbelieved the charge; and, as his weight in public opinion was so great, he ventured to address a supplique to Napoleon in favour of his kinsman; but the answer which reached him the following day was an account of his execution!
(248) Horne’s”History of Napoleon.”
(249) This portion of the Diary is not dated, but the meeting with the Duchess of Angoulme must have taken place in January or February, 1815. Madame d’Arblay had joined her husband in France, her son remaining at Cambridge.-ED.
(250) “Very glad to see me.”
(251) “May I keep the book you sent me?”
(252) “He has acted very nobly.”
(253) Raised every day.”
(254) “The king recollects very well having seen you in London.”
(255) “O, I don’t doubt it at all.”
(256) “He was perfect!”
(257) Princess Elizabeth.
(258) “’Tis she who does the honours of the royal family.”
(259) On duty.
(260) Minister for foreign affairs.
(261) “We have better news. I can enter into no detail; but be calm, and love him who loves you alone.
(262) Country estate.
(263) “My dearest — All is lost! I cannot enter into details — pray, set out the sooner the better. Yours in life and death, A. d’A.”
(264) A large travelling-coach.-ED.
(265) Le Bourget was the scene of some desperate fighting during the siege of Paris in 1870. It was surprised and captured from the Prussians before daybreak of October 28, by a French force commanded by General de Bellemare, but, after a gallant defence of two days, it was retaken by the Prussians. December 21, an attempt was made by the French to recapture Le Bourget, but without success.-ED.
(266) Monday, the 20th, it should be-ED.
(267) The son of Philippe Egalit, afterwards King Louis Philippe.-ED.
(268) Brother of Louis XVIII., whom he succeeded under the title of Charles X.-ED.
(269) Should be Tuesday-ED.
(270) “Right of the strongest.”
(271) Franois Ren de Chteaubriand was born at Saint Malo in 1768 He visited the United States in 1789, and found, in the pathless forests of the new world, the scenery which he describes, with poetic fervour, in the pages of “Atala.” The news of the king’s flight to Varennes brought him back to Europe. He married (1792) ‘Mlle. de la Vigne-Buisson, joined the emigrant army which marched with Brunswick to conquer France, got wounded at Thionville, and retired to England. After the appointment of Bonaparte to the office of first Consul, Chteaubriand returned to France, and published his heroic- sentimental romance of “Atala.” Its success with the public was great, and it was followed by “The Genius of Christianity,” and other works. Under the restored Bourbons, Chteaubriand filled high diplomatic posts. This most sentimental of men of genius died in July, 1848.-ED.
(272) This occurred in the year 1811.-ED.
SECTION 25. (1815)
AT BRUSSELS: WATERLOO: REJOINS M. D’ARBLAY.
SOJOURN AT BRUSSELS.
Arrived at Brussels, we drove immediately to the house in which dwelt Madame la Comtesse de Maurville. That excellent person had lived many years in England an emigrant, and there earned a scanty maintenance by keeping a French school. She had now retired upon a very moderate pension, but was surrounded by intimate friends, who only suffered her to lodge at her own home. She received us in great dismay, fearing to lose her little all by these changes of government. I was quite ill on my arrival: excessive fatigue, affright, and watchfulness overwhelmed me.
At Brussels all was quiet and tame. The Belgians had lost their original antipathy to Bonaparte, without having yet had time to acquire any warmth of interest for the Bourbons. Natively phlegmatic, they demand great causes or strong incitement to rouse them from that sort of passiveness that is the offspring of philosophy and timidity- philosophy, that teaches them to prize ‘the blessings of safety; and timidity, that points out the dangers of enterprise. In all I had to do with t
hem I found them universally worthy, rational, and kind-hearted; but Slow, sleepy, and uninteresting, in the sickroom to which I was immediately consigned, I met with every sort of kindness from Madame de Maurville, whom I had known intimately at Paris, and who had known and appreciated my beloved, exemplary sister Phillips in London. Madame de Maurville was a woman that the Scotch would call long-headed; she was sagacious, penetrating, and gifted with strong humour. She saw readily the vices and follies of mankind, and laughed at them heartily, without troubling herself to grieve at them. She was good herself, alike in heart and in conduct, and zealous to serve and oblige; but with a turn to satire that made the defects of her neighbours rather afford her amusement than concern.’
I was visited here by the highly accomplished Madame de la: Tour du Pin, wife to the favourite nephew of Madame d’Henin; a woman of as much courage as elegance, and who had met danger, toil, and difficulty in the Revolution with as much spirit, and nearly as much grace, as she had displayed in meeting universal admiration and homage at the court of Marie-Antoinette, of which she was one of the most brilliant latter ornaments. Her husband was at this time one of the French ministers at the Congress at Vienna; whence, as she learned a few days after my arrival at Brussels, he had been sent on an embassy of the deepest importance and risk, to La Vende or Bordeaux. She bore the term of that suspense with an heroism that I greatly admired, for I well knew she adored her husband. M. la Tour du Pin had been a prefect of Brussels under Bonaparte, though never in favour, his internal loyalty to the Bourbons being well known. But Bonaparte loved to attach great names and great characters to his government, conscious of their weight both at home and abroad, and he trusted in the address of that mental diving-machine, his secret police, for warding off any hazard he might run, from employing the adherents of his enemies. His greatly capacious, yet only half-formed mind, could have parried, as well as braved, every danger and all opposition, had not his inordinate ambition held him as arbitrarily under control as he himself held under control every other passion.
Complete Works of Frances Burney Page 659