This celebrated writer, whose maiden name was Stephanie Felicite
Ducrest de St. Aubin, has left a voluminous memoir of her life and
times, written at the age of eighty, which is interesting for the
portraits of celebrated characters, in which it abounds, as well as
the delineations it affords of her education, her feelings, and her
experience. Of this we have made the following abstract, generally in
her own words, which will present the leading incidents of her
eventful career:--
"I was born," says she, "on the 25th of January, 1746, on a little
estate in Burgundy, near Autun, called Champceri. I was born so small
and so weakly that they would not venture to put me in clothes; and, a
few moments after my birth, I was on the point of losing my life. I
had been placed in a down pillow, of which, to keep me warm, the two
sides were folded over me and fastened with a pin; and, thus wrapped
up, I was laid upon an arm-chair in the room. The judge of the
district, who was almost blind, came to pay his visit of compliment to
my father; and as, in his country fashion, he separated his huge flaps
to sit down, some one saw that he was going to place himself in the
arm-chair where I was. Luckily, he was prevented from sitting down,
and I escaped being crushed to death.
"I experienced in my childhood a series of unfortunate accidents. At
eighteen months old, I fell into a pond, out of which I was extricated
with great difficulty: at the age of five, I had a fall, and received
a severe wound on the head: as a great deal of blood flowed from it,
it was thought unnecessary to bleed me; but a deposit, formed in the
head, burst at the ear after forty days, and, contrary to expectation,
I was saved. A short time afterwards, I fell into the kitchen fire:
this accident did not injure my face, but there are to this day two
marks of it on my body. Thus often was endangered, in its earliest
years, that life which was afterwards to prove so checkered.
"My father sold the estate of Champceri when I was two years old. He
had a house at Cosne, to which he removed, and passed three years
there. The recollection of that house, of its superb garden, and
beautiful terrace, upon the Loire, and of the chateau of Mienne, a
league from Cosne, where we went so often, remains indelibly engraved
on my memory. Passing by that road, thirty-five years after, I
instantly recognized the chateau, though I was but five years old when
we quitted Cosne. My father purchased the marquisate of St. Aubin, an
estate most desirable from its situation, its extent, and its titular
and seigniorial rights. I have never thought, without a feeling of
tenderness, of this spot, once so dear to me, in which six years of
innocence and happiness glided away.
"When we were once fixed at St. Aubin, my education began to be
attended to. Mademoiselle Urgon, the village schoolmistress, taught me
to read. Having an excellent memory, I learnt with great facility; and
at the end of six or seven months, I read with ease. I was brought up
with a brother fifteen months younger than myself, of whom I was
exceedingly fond; with the exception of the hour set apart for
reading, we were allowed to play together all day long. We passed part
of the day in the court-yard, or in the garden; and in the evening we
played in the drawing-room.
"I was six years old when my brother was sent to Paris, to the famous
academy of M. Bertrand, the most virtuous and best instructor of his
time. It was he who invented the method of learning to spell in six
weeks, by means of boxes full of counters. Two or three months after
the departure of my brother, my mother made a journey to Paris, and
took me with her.
"I was not much pleased with Paris, and, for the first few days of my
stay there, I regretted St. Aubin bitterly. I had two teeth pulled
out; my clothes pinched me terribly; my feet were imprisoned in tight
shoes, with which it was impossible for me to walk; I had a multitude
of curl papers put on my head; and I wore a hoop, for the first time
in my life. In order to get rid of my country attitudes, I had an iron
collar put on my neck, and, as I squinted a little at times, I was
obliged to put on goggles as soon as I woke in the morning; and these
I wore four hours. I was, moreover, not a little surprised when they
talked of giving me a master to teach me what I thought I knew well
enough already--to _walk_. Beside all this, I was forbidden to run, to
leap, or ask questions.
"All these painful constraints made such an impression on me, that I
have never forgotten them. I have since faithfully depicted them in a
little comedy called 'The Dove.' But a great ceremony, and the fine
entertainments which followed it, soon made me forget my little
griefs. I had only been privately christened; I was now baptized in
public; my aunt, Madame de Bellevau, was my godmother, and M. Bouret,
the farmer-general, my godfather. I received some splendid presents;
and I had, besides, plenty of sweetmeats and playthings, and I soon
recovered my good-humor. I was taken also to the opera, which
delighted me beyond measure.
"My father had the utmost affection for me, but he did not interfere
with my education in any point but one; he wished to make me a woman
of firm mind, and I was born with numberless little antipathies. I had
a horror of all insects, particularly of spiders and toads. I was also
afraid of mice, and he made me feed and bring up one. I loved my
father to excess, and he had such an influence over me, that I never
dared to disobey him. He would frequently oblige me to catch spiders
with my fingers, and to hold toads in my hands, and, at such times,
though I felt as if the blood had forsaken my veins, I was forced to
obey. These trials proved clearly to me that toads are not venomous;
but they powerfully contributed to weaken my nerves, and have only
augmented the antipathies which they were intended to remove. They
have, however, served to give me a habit of self-command, which of
itself is a great benefit.
"So passed several years. Mademoiselle de Mars, a young woman from
Brittany, had now the sole direction of my studies, and she gave me
also lessons in singing, and on the harpsichord. I became attached to
her from the first, and passed nearly all my time with her. I made
great progress in my music, and we rehearsed a great many little plays
for our amusement. Much applause was bestowed upon my performances,
except by Mademoiselle de Mars, who generally only praised me for what
belonged to my heart or character. I led a charming life: in the
morning I played on the harpsichord; afterwards I studied my parts;
then I took my lesson in dancing and fencing, and then read till
dinner. After dinner, we read pious books, and afterwards spent our
time in amusements and walking.
"I will here give the history of what a woman never forgets--the first
passion she inspires. I was but a child of eleven years and nine
months, and very small of my age; besides, I had a face and features
so delicate, that those who saw me for the first time never supposed
me older than eight or nine, at furthest; yet a young man of eighteen
became desperately in love with me--the son of Dr. Pinot, one of the
first physicians at the baths of Bourbon-Lancey. He had performed
parts in our plays for two years.
"None of us suspected his folly, and certainly I had not the slightest
idea of it; when, one morning, after a rehearsal, the young man came
up to me, and, seizing the moment when I was standing separate from
the other actors in the side scene, and with an air of wildness in
his looks, gave me a note, begging me, in a low tone, to read it, and
let no one see it. I took the note, though much surprised, and he left
me. Mademoiselle de Mars soon after joined me. I put the note in my
pocket, and we went up stairs to our room. I hesitated about showing
her my note, as I had been charged so strongly to show it to no one;
but to keep a secret with the friend I loved so dearly weighed heavily
upon my conscience; at the same time, my curiosity was extreme.
"At last, Mademoiselle de Mars left me. I ran into my cabinet, locked
the door, and read the note, which contained a serious declaration of
love. My first movement was to be excessively shocked that the son of
a physician--a person of no rank--should presume to talk of love to
me. I went immediately and showed the note to my friend, who desired
me to carry it to my mother, which I did. The young man was
reprimanded by his father, as he deserved to be; and he felt so much
chagrin on the occasion, that he enlisted in the army, and left the
place. I afterwards heard of him as having obtained his discharge, and
that he was married and happy, and an excellent young man.
"Two months after this romantic flight, we went to Paris. I confess,
to my shame, that I quitted Burgundy without regret; for childhood
loves and requires change. At Paris we found my aunt, the Countess de
Bellevau, and after a short time we took up our abode with her. At her
house I saw the celebrated author M. Marmontel. He came to read her
his 'Tales.' I was present at the reading of one, called, I think,
'The Self-styled Philosopher,' in which a fat president's wife,
begrimmed with snuff, leads about in triumph this pretended sage, with
a rose-colored ribbon. Though but twelve years old, I thought this
story dull and absurd, and I thought rightly. The author was far from
supposing that the little girl then before him would one day write a
critique on these tales, which should throw him into transports of
rage.
"At the close of the winter, we went to a country-house of my aunt's,
which had a delightful garden close to the forest of Vincennes. My
brother, my two cousins, and myself, performed little pieces, and we
had many little _fetes_ at which my brother and myself sung duets. He
was by no means as remarkable a child as I was: he was shy, awkward,
and of an inconceivable simplicity: he had requested my father in vain
to let him use a gun; he was always told that he must first acquire a
knowledge of fencing, for which he had not the slightest taste: he
therefore adopted the following expedient: he loaded a gun, shut
himself up in his room, and, in order to fire without making a noise,
he bethought him of thrusting the barrel of the gun under the mattress
of the bed. He then fired in this prudent manner, set fire to the bed,
and was himself knocked down by the rebound. The family hastily
assembled, and discovered with surprise this singular invention. The
next summer we spent at Passy, and in October returned to Paris.
"When I was fourteen years old, my father left us for St. Domingo. On
his return, he was taken prisoner by the English, with all he
possessed. He was conducted to Lanceston, a seaport town in England,
where he found many French prisoners of war, and, among others, a
young man, whose handsome face, talents, and accomplishments, inspired
him with the most lively interest: this was the Comte de Genlis, who,
in returning from Pondicherry, where he had commanded a regiment
during five years, had been carried to Canton, in China. Here he
passed five months, and was thence taken to Lanceston.
"The Comte de Genlis had served in the navy from the age of fourteen;
he had covered himself with glory in the famous action of M. d'Ache;
he was then a lieutenant, and scarcely twenty. Out of twenty-two
officers, he was the only one who survived: all the others were
killed. M. de Genlis was covered with wounds, of which one remained
open for eight years and a half. This combat gained him the rank of
captain, and the cross of St. Louis. M. d'Ache took off his own to
give it to him, on board of the vessel, the very day of the action,
saying that he was sure the court would not disavow what he had done.
The Comte de Genlis conducted himself with equal valor at Pondicherry.
As soon as he returned to France, his uncle, M. de Puisieux, made him
quit the navy, and enter into the land service, with the rank of
colonel of grenadiers.
"While he was at Lanceston, he became very intimate with my father,
who always carried a box, on which was my portrait in the act of
playing the harp: this picture struck M. de Genlis, who made many
inquiries about me, and believed all that was said by my father, who
thought me faultless.
"The English had left my father my portrait, my letters, and those of
my mother, which spoke of nothing but my successes and my talents. The
count read these, and they made a profound impression upon him. His
uncle, who was then minister for foreign affairs, soon obtained his
liberty, and he promised to do all in his power to obtain that of my
father. As soon as he arrived in Paris, he waited on my mother, to
deliver some letters from my father; at the same time, he earnestly
solicited his exchange, and in three weeks my father arrived in Paris.
Not long after, being seized with a malignant fever, he died in the
flower of his age. I experienced at his loss the most profound grief I
had ever felt.
"I will now speak of an old friend of my father's--the Baron d'Andlau.
He came often to visit us; he was more than sixty, generous and kind.
He discovered the greatest friendship for me, and I was so much the
more touched with these marks of his affection, that I attributed them
to the remembrance he had preserved of my father. But, at last, he
made me understand his real sentiments by the most singular
declaration of love that was ever made. He sent me, by his valet, a
huge packet, containing his genealogy at full length, which he
entreated me to examine with attention; but all my application in this
way rendered me by no means favorable to his hopes. The same day, he
came solemnly to demand my heart and hand, and was extremely surprised
to find that his superb parchments had produced so little effect upon
my mind. My mother, however, desired me to reflect upon his proposal,
stating that he was rich and of high birth; but I firmly persisted in
my refusal, and there was no more said upon the subject. He did not
discontinue his visits, but paid attention only to my mother, and to
such good purpose, that, eighteen months after, he married her; and I
was much better pleased to have him for a father-in-law than a
husband.
"Not long after this event, my destiny was fixed for life. I was
secretly married to M. de Genlis. He was then twenty-seven, and,
having neither father nor mother, could dispose of himself as he
pleased. Eight days after my marriage, we went to live with my aunt,
Madame de Sercey, who lived in the Rue de Rohan. Here our marriage was
published, and it formed the subject of public conversation for
several days. We then took up our residence at the chateau of Genlis,
belonging to my brother-in-law, the Marquis de Genlis, where our time
passed in a succession of _fetes_ and entertainments.
"My brother passed six weeks with us at this time. He had just been
received into the engineers, and had undergone his examination in
Bezout, with the utmost credit to himself: in fact, he showed a
decided genius for mathematics. I was transported with joy at seeing
him again: he was handsome and ingenuous, and he had a sort of
childish gayety, which suited me exactly. M. de Genlis made him a
present of every thing which could be useful to him in a garrison in
which he was to remain a long time. He went to Mezieres: we promised
to write regularly to each other, and we kept our word.
"On the 4th of September, when I was nineteen years of age, my little
Caroline was born, beautiful as an angel. How many sentiments, till
then unknown, sprung up in my breast with the blessing of being a
mother! Six weeks after, I was presented at court by Madame Puisieux.
She obliged me to wear a great deal of rouge and powder, two things
which I detested; I wore a high ruff, and a large hoop and train. My
presentation went off well, and the day was well chosen, as there were
a great many ladies at this levee. Louis XV. spoke a good deal to
Madame de Puisieux, and said many flattering things about me. Though
no longer young, he appeared to me to be very handsome: his eyes were
of a deep blue, 'royal blue eyes,' as the Prince of Conti said; and
his look was the most imposing that can be imagined.
"In speaking he had a laconic manner, and a particular brevity of
expression, in which, however, there was nothing harsh or disobliging;
in short, there was about his whole person something majestic and
royal, which completely distinguished him from all other men. A
handsome exterior in a king is by no means a matter of indifference;
the people and the great bulk of the nation can see but by stealth, as
it were, the great potentates of the earth; they regard them with
eager curiosity; the impression they receive from that examination is
indelible, and exercises the greatest influence over all their
sentiments. A noble air, a frank expression of countenance, a serene
aspect, an agreeable smile, mild and polished manners, are precious
gifts to princes, which education may confer but to a certain degree.
"About this time, I wrote a little novel, called the 'Dangers of
Celebrity,' the manuscript of which I afterwards lost. We soon
returned to Genlis, and I recommenced my pursuits with fresh ardor. I
was very happy at Genlis, especially after my brother-in-law's
marriage to a most charming woman. The only property which M. de
Genlis then had was the estate of Sissy, five leagues from Genlis: it
was worth ten thousand francs a year, which was equal to twenty
thousand now: we did not spend five thousand out of this, so that we
were completely at our ease: and M. de Genlis, who was full of
goodness and humanity, did a vast deal of good in the village: my
brother-in-law and his wife were also extremely generous, and were, in
return, adored by the peasants.
"We passed the next winter at Paris. I was then twenty. I went
once a week to dine with my aunt, Madame de Montesson, or with my
grandmother, the Marchioness de la Haie. I saw this year, 1766, the
Abbe Delille, who had just published his beautiful translation of
Virgil's 'Georgies.' He was at that time twenty-seven years of age.
He visited me several times; he was then engaged with his translation
of the 'AEneid.' I thought him ingenuous and amiable; he had a face of
certain intelligent ugliness, which it was amusing to examine. At
this time, he recited verses in a manner that was quite charming, and
which belonged exclusively to himself.
"I went, in the spring, to the Isle Adam, in the Seine, where the
Prince of Conti resided. He was the only one of the princes of the
blood who had a taste for literature and the sciences, or who could
speak in public. He was the most magnificent of our princes. Each lady
that visited him had a carriage and horses at her command, and was at
liberty to ask parties to dine daily in her own apartments. Ceremony
was reserved for the evening, but during the day you enjoyed perfect
liberty. We remained here, in the midst of the most charming society,
six weeks.
"I passed the next winter at Paris, in a round of dissipation; private
balls, dinners, suppers, occupied most of my time. I amused myself
also at home by performing with my friends little operas and comedies,
which were always terminated by a concert, which was led by the famous
Cramer. It was at this time that I wrote my first historical novel,
founded on an anecdote in the life of Tamerlane. I read also, with
inexpressible delight, some of the works of Pascal, Bossuet, and
Massillon. The latter entirely entranced me. The majestic flow of his
eloquence, and the sweetness and harmony of his language, have
something about them which is truly divine. I also read with
admiration the 'Natural History' of M. de Buffon: the perfection of
his style enchanted me, and I studied it intensely.
"J. J. Rousseau being now in Paris, I had a great desire to see so
celebrated a man. I must confess that nothing ever appeared to me so
odd and fantastical as his figure and appearance, which I merely
considered as a masquerade. His coat, his _marron_-colored stockings,
his little round wig, his whole costume, his manners and deportment,
were to me perfectly ludicrous. Yet I never knew a literary character
more agreeable, or with less affectation. His eyes were small, and,
though deep set, were very piercing. He had a most agreeable smile,
full of mildness and finesse. He talked admirably of music. I found
afterwards that he was filled with caprice and morbid sensibility. He
never accepted favors, and was offended by any offers of pecuniary
aid.
"I must mention an extraordinary individual whom I constantly saw at
M. de Puisieux's--the Abbe Raynal. Never did there exist a man of
talent so insupportably obstinate, so disputatious, or so unamiable in
society. I likewise saw the young prince of Sweden, Gustavus III. He
was agreeable and accomplished.
"For her own private interest, my aunt, Madame de Montesson, was
extremely desirous that I should enter the Palais Royal, as lady of
honor. M. de Genlis cared little about it, and declared that he would
not consent to let me have the place, unless he was attached to the
court himself. He therefore asked and obtained the post of captain of
the guards of the Duke of Chartres, a station worth six thousand
francs, while mine, was worth four. The society of the Palais Royal
was then the most brilliant and witty in Paris. There was also no want
of books, and I made constant additions to my knowledge of French
literature and history. I served also as the secretary of the Duchess
of Chartres. I continued to write comedies, and cultivated music with
the same ardor as before. I was constantly in the habit of making
extracts, in small paper books, of conversations with persons that
were entertaining and instructive. I had made, when I left the Palais
Royal, a selection of poetry, of one thousand verses, of various
authors, some being of very ancient date.
"One day, when I was in the Garden of Plants, I had the good fortune
to meet M. de Buffon, who received me with great cordiality and
simplicity. I afterwards met him frequently, and we spoke of nothing
but literature.
"In 1774, Louis XV. died, and the unfortunate Louis XVI. mounted the
throne. In the course of a journey which I took on account of ill
health the next year, I went to Ferney to visit M. de Voltaire. All
the busts and portraits I have seen of him are exceedingly like him;
but no artist has fully expressed the eyes. They were the liveliest I
ever saw; but they also had something indescribably soft and tender in
their expression. His laugh and bitter smile greatly altered the
expression of his face. When neither religion nor his enemies were
spoken of, his conversation was simple and pleasing; but when he was
opposed in the least, his manner became warm and bitter.
"About this time, I wrote many little comedies for my daughters to
perform, which were very successful. I received complimentary letters
from M. d'Alembert and M. de Marmontel. Some time afterwards, I had
rather an intimate acquaintance with M. Gibbon, author of the 'Decline
and Fall of the Roman Empire.' M. de Voltaire came to Paris soon after
this period. I went to see him, but found him quite broken down and
dejected. He died in 1778.
"The time I passed at the Palais Royal was at once the most brilliant
and unhappy part of my life; I was in the zenith of my talents, and at
the age when a woman joins to the freshness and graces of youth all
the accomplishments which habits of intercourse with the world can
bestow. I was admired, praised, flattered, and courted. Every
Saturday, I had a concert; every Tuesday, a pleasant circle of
acquaintances met at my house, and another day was set apart for
conversation parties; in short, I was constantly occupied either in
society, reading, or forming plans of works, since completed. I was
generally beloved in the great world. So much for the brilliant side
of my situation. But the malignity and hypocrisy of several persons
belonging to the Palais Royal; the constantly renewed vexations; the
unlooked-for calumnies, and the pretended reconciliations of which I
have been so frequently the dupe; the injustice and the slanders;--all
caused me the bitterest grief, which I was forced to conceal, for my
situation obliged me to appear continually in society.
"The Duke of Chartres was very desirous to succeed to the place of
grand admiral, then held by his father-in-law, the Duke of Penthievre:
to promote this object he proposed making a cruise at sea. He was to
embark at Toulon, and persuaded the Duchess of Chartres to accompany
him so far; and I even inspired her with a desire to see Italy. In
going there, the duchess only took with her the young Countess of
Rully, M. de Genlis, an esquire, and myself, two waiting maids, a
valet, and three footmen. We passed through all the southern
provinces, only stopping to attend the charming _fetes_, which were
every where given to the prince and princess. Our journey passed off
gayly and without accident, and we had some curious personal
adventures. The duchess met with the utmost admiration throughout
Italy for the dignity and sweetness of her manners.
"At Venice we saw the famous entertainment of the Bucentaur, or
wedding the Adriatic; but the city that I saw with the most enthusiasm
was Rome. My emotion was so great on entering it that I embraced all
in the carriage. I made many excursions, visited the Coliseum, and
went daily to wonder and pray at St. Peter's. At Naples we were
presented at court, and splendid _fetes_ were given to the Duchess of
Chartres.
"After our return, I recommenced my little plays with the same success
as before. Indeed, I was prevailed upon to publish them for the
benefit of the Chevalier de Quiessat, who had been fined and
imprisoned. M. de Genlis undertook the editorship of the works, which
made a large octavo volume. The Duke and Duchess of Chartres gave a
hundred Louis for two copies. The Prince of Conde paid fifty Louis for
one copy, and the Count de Jardini, with whom I was unacquainted, paid
three thousand francs for one. The net profits of the work were forty
thousand francs, which effected the liberation of M. Quiessat.
"When I published my first volume of the '_Theatre d' Education_,'
there was every where felt for me a sort of enthusiasm; many persons
sought my acquaintance, and among others M. de la Harpe. It was
immediately translated into all the European languages. All the
journalists praised my work excessively; in short, no one ever entered
on a literary career with more honor and glory.
"The Duchess of Chartres having become the mother of two infant
princesses, I cultivated my talents with new ardor, in the prospect of
benefiting them. I had determined to educate them within a convent.
Accordingly a pavilion, called 'Belle Chasse,' was erected in Paris
for our residence, communicating with the convent by a long arbor
covered with vines. My establishment was really charming. The
furniture was extremely simple: it was to be mine after the education
of the children was completed. The usual salary of the governess was
six thousand francs; the duke offered me twelve thousand; which,
however, I refused. I conducted the mansion of 'Belle Chasse' and the
education of the princes and princesses with great ceremony, and
gained the reputation of being a _good housewife_--a kind of praise so
reluctantly accorded to those women who love reading and cultivate
literature and the fine arts.
"During the first eighteen months of my residence at 'Belle Chasse,' I
published successively the other volumes of my 'Theatre of Education.'
I led a delicious life at 'Belle Chasse,' and received every Saturday
my acquaintances from six to half past nine, and my intimate friends
from eight till ten in the evening. I had obtained permission to have
my mother and children with me; and the inexpressible satisfaction of
attending to my mother's comforts was my sweetest occupation.
"The extreme beauty of my eldest daughter, her talents, her charming
disposition, and my place as lady of honor, which remained vacant for
her, caused her hand to be sought by a great number of persons. She
was a good musician; she drew figures in a fine style; she painted
admirably in all styles; and I never knew any one who danced so well
as she did. She was only fourteen. I at last determined upon marrying
her. The choice of M. de Genlis fell upon a Belgian, the Marquis of
Becelaer de Lawoestine: he was an only son, and of high birth, and
would eventually inherit the title of grandee. M. de Genlis gave him
his place of captain of the guards, and my furnished apartments at the
Palais Royal, all of which formed a very comfortable establishment for
the young couple. A week before the marriage, the Duke and Duchess of
Chartres sent me magnificent bracelets and a superb aigrette of
diamonds for my daughter.
"I was the first governess of princes, in France, who adopted the
custom of teaching children the living languages by talking with them.
I gave my young princesses an English maid-servant, and another who
understood Italian thoroughly, so that, at the age of five, they
understood three languages, and spoke English and French perfectly
well. I bethought myself of placing a young English girl of their own
age with them. Accordingly the Duke of Chartres wrote to London to beg
a person of the name of Forth to send him one. He succeeded in
accomplishing my wish: the little girl was sent, and was remarkable
for her graceful manners, her mildness, and her beauty. Her name was
Nancy Syms; I called her Pamela; and, as she did not know a word of
French, she contributed greatly to familiarize the little princesses
with the English language.
"My tranquillity was now disturbed by a melancholy event--the illness
and death of the eldest of the princesses, Mademoiselle d'Orleans. The
princess who remained took the name of Orleans; she was then five
years old. No words can describe her grief at the death of her sister;
her affliction lasted more than two years. Often, when in my room,
and appearing to play, she turned her back to me and wept.
"The duke was sedulously engaged in endeavoring to find a tutor for
his sons. The eldest, the Duke of Valois,[4] was then eight years old.
He consulted me on the selection of a fit person. I proposed several,
among others M. de Schomberg; but, none of them meeting his favor, I
said, with a laugh, 'Well, then, what do you think of me?' 'Why not?'
replied he, seriously: 'the thing is decided; you must be their
tutor.' I confess that the manner of the duke impressed me deeply with
the thought of doing something so glorious to myself, and so
unprecedented in the history of education. The arrangement was
accordingly made, and it was agreed that I should be the absolute
mistress of their education. The Duke of Chartres offered me twenty
thousand francs, which I refused; and that I _gratuitously_ educated
three princes is an undisputed fact. The Duchess of Chartres was
delighted with the plan; and I may truly say it was generally approved
of.
"About this time, I published '_Adele et Theodore_.' This work at once
insured the suffrages of the public, and the irreconcilable hatred of
all the so-called philosophers and their partisans.
"Having chosen M. Lebrun as under-governor for the young princes, I
gave him private instructions relative to their education. He kept a
daily journal of their studies and behavior, which I commented upon in
the evening. I thought this journal would be interesting to the duke
and duchess; but they always refused to read it, saying that they
confided entirely in me. I found some very bad habits in my pupils.
When I read history to them, the Duke of Valois yawned and stretched
himself, sometimes lying down on the sofa, and putting his feet upon
the table. I reproved him for this in such a manner that he felt no
resentment. As soon as the sense of the thing was clearly presented to
him, he listened with attention.
"Every Saturday we received company at 'Belle Chasse.' I established
this rule to form the princes in politeness, and to accustom them to
the habit of listening to conversation. When Mademoiselle Orleans was
seven years old, she played on the harp in a surprising manner. I can
truly say, that I never knew a single defect in this princess. She
possessed all the virtues. The Duke of Montpensier, the second son,
had a feeling and generous heart, a natural elegance of person, and
something romantic about his face, disposition, and manners. The
youngest of the three princes, the Count of Beaujolais, was equally
charming in face, talent, and disposition. Even his faults were
amiable. We thought that he resembled Henry IV. To continue the
portraits of 'Belle Chasse,' I must speak of Pamela. She had a
beautiful face; she never told a single falsehood; she ran like
Atalanta, but her mind was lazy to a degree; she had no memory, and
was very volatile.
"The Duke of Orleans purchased St. Leu, a charming residence, where we
passed eight months of the year. There was a fine garden, in which my
pupils dug with their own hands. The gardener was a German, and only
spoke to them in German; in our walks we spoke English, and we supped
in Italian. I invented little games, and dramatic pieces for
representation, and we performed historic pictures. In the winter, at
Paris, I continued to make every moment useful. I had a turning
machine put in my chamber, and all the children learned to turn. We
also made morocco portfolios, baskets, artificial flowers, and the
Duke of Valois and the Duke of Montpensier made a table with drawers
for a poor woman of St. Leu.
"Upon the death of his father, the old Duke of Orleans, the Duke of
Chartres took the title of Orleans, and my eldest pupil that of
Chartres.
"Amidst all my engagements, I continued my private studies with
ardor, and soon published my '_Veilless du Chateau_.' I also wrote my
'Palace of Truth,' and the 'Two Reputations,' at this time. The
former work was translated, in the course of a year, into all the
European languages. My first work upon religion, which I wrote for
my pupils, completed the degree of horror in which I was held by
the philosophers. It was entitled 'Religion considered as the only
Basis of Happiness and true Philosophy.' While writing this work, I
experienced the greatest misfortune of my life. My eldest daughter
died, at the age of twenty-one. She expired with the calmness and
piety of an angel. Being unable to find any relief from my affliction,
I set about finishing my work on religion; and, on looking at the
place where I left off, I found it was the chapter 'On Christian
Resignation.'
"Grief had so great an effect upon me, that my physicians directed me
to go to Spa. Thither the duke and duchess and my pupils accompanied
me. This took place in July, 1787.
"It was now becoming the fashion to ridicule the monarchy, and
preparations were making for the revolution. I was of no party but
that of religion. I desired to see the reformation of certain abuses,
and I saw with joy the demolition of the Bastile. It is impossible to
give an idea of the sight; this redoubtable fortress was covered with
men, women, and children, all working with unequalled ardor.
"As soon as the Duke of Chartres had attained his seventeenth year,
the Duke of Orleans informed me that his education was at an end; but
the Duke of Chartres was so attached to me that he said he would come
daily till he was eighteen, to take his lessons as usual. He never
failed to do this, which was admirable in a young prince who had now
become his own master.
"During my residence at 'Belle Chasse,' my second daughter, Pulcherie,
married the Viscount de Valence. She was seventeen years old,
beautiful and accomplished. Soon after this event, M. de Genlis came
into possession of the property of the Marechale d'Etree. On finding
himself suddenly possessed of one hundred thousand francs a year, he
urged me to quit 'Belle Chasse,' and reside with him. But I could not
support the idea that any one else should finish the education of my
pupils, and carry from me all the honors. I have since bitterly
repented this failure in my duty. M. de Genlis now took the name of
Marquis de Sillery.
"Having always felt an extreme desire of travelling in England, I
separated from my pupils for the first time. My journey was marked by
many distinctions. I received proofs of esteem from many distinguished
persons--Fox, Sheridan, Burke, Miss Burney, &c. The Prince of Wales
invited me to an entertainment, and was full of attention to me. I
passed three days at the country-house of the celebrated Mr. Burke;
here I met Sir Joshua Reynolds. I dined with the queen at Windsor.
Lord Mansfield, the celebrated English judge, came to see me, and gave
me a beautiful moss-rose tree. Horace Walpole invited me to breakfast
in his Gothic priory. After having visited Wales, I returned at length
to France. I arrived at St. Leu, after an absence of six weeks, to the
great joy of my pupils, as well as my own.
"A short time after, the marriage of Mademoiselle d'Orleans with the
Duke of Angouleme was resolved on. An interview took place between
them at Versailles, and the marriage was publicly talked of. The
revolution, which suddenly burst upon us at this time, overthrew all
our plans and projects.
"I was soon called upon to feel the most heart-rending sorrow at the
death of my mother, whom I tended during three whole days and nights,
without ever going to bed, or leaving her for a moment. My pupils
wished, of their own accord, to be present at the funeral, for they
truly loved her, and joined most sincerely and affectionately in grief
for her loss.
"It now became obvious that a melancholy change had taken place in
the conduct of the Duchess of Orleans to me, after twenty years of
the warmest and closest intimacy. In consequence of this, I determined
on retiring from her household altogether. My feelings were still
more aggravated by the want of any specific charge, or any explanation
on the part of the duchess. I wrote a letter to the duke, asking
leave to resign my place; but this he would not grant, promising to
arrange affairs in a few days. In the interval, Mademoiselle, seeing
me sorrowful and dejected, perceived the plan I had in view. One day,
she swooned away in the garden, and the consequence was, a promise
from me, 'that I would not leave her of my own free will.' I then
wrote a long explanatory letter to the duchess, using all possible
arguments to induce her to restore me to her confidence. This she
did not do, but consented to meet me as usual, and to allow her
family to suppose the 'difference' between us adjusted: at the same
time, she desired that not a word should pass between us relative
to our misunderstanding.
"I was meditating, one morning, upon this painful position of affairs,
when the door opened, and the duchess appeared. She rushed in, bid me
be quiet, drew a paper from her pocket, which she read in a loud voice
and with great rapidity. The purport of this was, that I must withdraw
immediately, and that in a private manner, to prevent unnecessary
affliction to Mademoiselle; if I did not do so, there was no public
exposure I might not dread, and she would never see me again in the
course of her life. After some expostulations with the duchess, who, I
saw, was influenced by my enemies, I promised to do as she required.
Before I left, I wrote three letters to Mademoiselle d'Orleans, to be
given to her at different periods of the day. The duke felt the most
profound chagrin, and, attributing all these troubles to the counsels
of Madame de Chastelleux, desired her to seek some other abode. The
consequence was, the duchess made a demand to be separated from her
husband.
"After my departure, I received letters from the duke, begging me to
return to his daughter, as he felt assured that her death would be the
consequence of my continued absence. I accordingly returned, and found
my dear pupil in a state that pierced me to the heart. My solicitude
soon restored her to health, but my tranquillity was forever lost. The
cause of the sudden dislike of the duchess was evidently the
difference of our political opinions. I never in my life interfered in
political affairs, but I have at all times been monarchical, as all my
works demonstrate. It is also true that I have always detested
despotism, _lettres de cachets_, and arbitrary imprisonment.
"After the flight of the king to Varennes, and his forced return to
Paris, I was burning with a desire to leave France, and the duke at
last gave me leave. The physicians ordered Mademoiselle to go to
England, to take the Bath waters. We accordingly went there, and staid
at that place two months. We then travelled through the English
counties, visited the caverns of Derbyshire and the Isle of Wight.
"The close of my stay in England was imbittered by the most mournful
anticipations, for party spirit gave me every reason to fear the
efforts and enemies of the house of Orleans, and I received anonymous
letters of the most alarming nature. Among others was one which
threatened to set fire to our house at night. In September, 1792,
while we were at Bury, in Suffolk, I learned by the French papers that
a powerful party were desirous of bringing the king and queen to
judgment. Immediately after the massacres in the prisons in the same
month, I received a singular letter from the Duke of Orleans, telling
me to return to France immediately with his daughter. I answered him
that I would not do so, as it was absurd to choose such a period for
her return.
"My well-founded fears increasing daily, I met with several alarming
adventures, which proved that I was an object of suspicion in France.
In November, the Duke of Orleans again sent for his daughter. Upon
this, I determined to take Mademoiselle back to France, deliver her up
into her father's hands, give up my place as governess, and return
immediately to London. We set out on our return, in November, for
Dover. We had a stormy passage across the channel, landed, and
proceeded rapidly to our residence in Paris. Here I found the Duke of
Orleans, M. de Sillery, and some others. I delivered up Mademoiselle
to her father, and told him my plan. The duke took me apart, and said,
in a dejected manner, that, in consequence of my not returning when he
sent the first time, his daughter, now fifteen, came under the new
law, which placed her among the emigrants; that the matter was not
entirely arranged, but that his daughter must go to Tournay, in
Belgium, for a short time. He urged me so vehemently to go with her,
that I consented.
"The same evening, M. Sillery took us to the theatre to dispel our
melancholy ideas. At the play was Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who became
violently in love with Pamela, from her resemblance to a former
object of his affection. The next day, finding myself alone with the
duke, whose manner struck me as very alarming, I spoke some words to
him, upon which he said, surlily, _that he had declared in favor of
the Jacobins_. I remonstrated with him in vain. In the evening, I had
a long conversation with M. de Sillery, and entreated him, with tears
in my eyes, to leave France. But all my arguments were unavailing, and
I left the next morning for Tournay, with the most mournful presages.
"At the first post-house we found Lord Edward Fitzgerald, whose love
for Pamela made him follow us to Tournay. We had scarcely reached the
place, when he asked the hand of Pamela in marriage. I showed him the
papers proving her to be the daughter of a man of high birth, of the
name of Seymour. After having obtained the consent of his mother, the
Duchess of Leinster, to the marriage, it was concluded; and in two
days the new-married couple set out for England. I felt great joy in
seeing the fortunes of this beloved child so honorably secured.
"Meanwhile, three weeks had elapsed without hearing from the duke.
At last news came of the horrible catastrophe of the king's death.
The Duke of Chartres, who joined us at Tournay, showed me a letter
from his father, which began thus: 'My heart is oppressed with
sorrow; but, for the interests of France and of liberty, I have
thought it my duty...!' &c. My unfortunate husband wrote at the same
time, and sent me copies of his opinion at the king's trial. This
was thus expressed: 'I do not vote for death, first because the king
does not merit it; secondly, because we have no right to sit as his
judges; and, lastly, because I consider his condemnation as the
greatest political fault that can be committed.' The letter concluded
thus: 'I am perfectly sure, then, in pronouncing this opinion, I have
signed my death-warrant.'
"Seeing that Belgium was about to fall into the hands of the
Austrians, and that it would be impossible for us to fly either to
France or to foreign countries, I had the most anxious desire to be
recalled to my country. Hence I strongly solicited my return; and I
was informed, in March, 1793, that the Duke of Orleans was to obtain
the recall of Mademoiselle, but that mine would be delayed. Whilst one
day sitting in my room, M. Crepin, an army commissary, whom I had
previously known, entered the room, and told me that the Austrians
would be in Tournay the next day. Seeing my distress at this
intelligence, he offered me an asylum at a farm of his near
Valenciennes, so secluded that I might stay there for months in
safety. I joyfully accepted his proposal, and we left Tournay in a few
days. Circumstances, however, did not allow us to take advantage of
this kind offer. We were surrounded by danger; troops marching in
disorder, soldiers making a tumultuous noise, filled us with terror.
We stopped a short time at St. Amand, where arrests were constantly
made, and all proved to me that the system of proscription was
established.
"Having providentially escaped from St. Amand, I immediately set off
for Switzerland. After travelling seven days, we reached Schafhausen.
My satisfaction on reaching a neutral territory was great. The Duke
of Chartres joined us here. We soon after went to Zug, and took a
small house, in a secluded situation, on the banks of the lake, not
far from the town. Here I wrote to the Duchess of Orleans,--for the
duke was in prison,--and entreated her to send me orders respecting
Mademoiselle d'Orleans as soon as possible; but I received no answer.
"We should have remained longer at Zug, but we became known, and the
magistrates were reproached for having given us refuge; we were
therefore obliged to consult as to our future destination. We formed a
thousand romantic projects, and abandoned them as fast as made. The
Duke of Chartres insisted upon continuing with us, which made it
impossible for us to remain unknown. I finally determined to write to
M. de Montesquiou, who lived at Bremgarten, who was himself a refugee,
and possessed great influence in Switzerland. I described to him the
condition of my unfortunate pupils, and begged him to allow them an
asylum in the convent, near the town. M. de Montesquiou wrote me a
most polite and obliging answer, and took upon himself to get
Mademoiselle d'Orleans and myself into this convent, called St.
Claire. The Duke of Chartres resolved to make a pedestrian tour
through Switzerland, where he was taken for a German. How often, since
my misfortunes, have I congratulated myself on the education I had
given him,--on the languages I had taught him,--on having accustomed
him to despise effeminacy, and habituate himself to fatigue! All that
he was indebted for to the chance of birth and fortune he had lost;
and nothing now remained to him but what he held from nature and from
me.[5]
"We entered the convent under feigned names. Mine was Madame Lenox,
aunt of Mademoiselle Stuart, my sister's daughter. The duke then left
us, and, after his journey through Switzerland, he entered the college
of the Grisons incognito, as professor of mathematics. In this quiet
of the convent, the health of Mademoiselle was nearly restored. While
here came news of a horrid catastrophe, on November 9th, 1793, and I
became ill.... I concealed from Mademoiselle the death of her
unfortunate father, but dressed her in mourning, as if for the queen
of France.[6]
"About this time, a violent dispute arose between the inhabitants
of Bremgarten: two parties were formed, and an order was obtained,
by people hostile to M. de Montesquiou, that all the French should
leave the place. Hearing that the Princess of Conti, the aunt of
Mademoiselle d'Orleans, was residing in Switzerland, Mademoiselle,
at my urgent request, wrote to her to ask permission to join her.
She received a very kind letter, saying that the princess would
receive her niece. On the day before the carriage was sent to take
her from me, my emotion was excessive. I determined to spare both
of us the pain of this cruel separation. I accordingly shut myself
in my room, at the arrival of the Countess de Pont, who was to take
away my interesting charge, telling the servant to say that I had
gone to some distance.
"As the moment arrived for the departure, Mademoiselle d'Orleans came
along my passage, and stopped before the door. I heard her sighs and
lamentations.... I heard the carriage roll away; and one must feel a
mother's love, to conceive the emotions that overpowered me. I heard
from her the next day, and I also wrote her my last letter of advice.
Her departure rendered the spot she had left completely hateful to me,
and I most anxiously wished to leave the place. I had, besides, been
cruelly persecuted since my residence there. I was often attacked in
the most absurd manner in the newspapers. One of them stated that I,
loaded with favors by the court of France, had been concerned in all
the intrigues of the revolution. Not knowing how to get passports I at
last thought of writing to Dr. Hoze, a skilful physician, who lived at
Bremgarten. He kindly sent me both passports and a servant to
accompany me. I departed, promising the nuns to return and spend the
remainder of my life with them. We travelled night and day, till we
arrived at Utrecht. From this place, I got into a wretched post-wagon,
with a man who was going to Hamburg. We reached that place July 23d,
1794. Hearing of an inn kept by a person of the name of Plock, I went
there, and had the fortune not to meet with any emigrants. Here I
staid nine months, in complete incognito, and in very agreeable
society. It was here that I enjoyed the first consolation I received
since my misfortunes--here that I learned several most important
events--the fall of Robespierre, and the peace concluded with Russia.
"I now went to board with M. de Valence at his country-house, five
leagues from Hamburg. At this place I wrote my '_Precis de Conduite_,'
which produced such a powerful effect in my favor. I soon left for
Berlin, in Prussia. I took lodgings with Mademoiselle Bocquet, who
kept a boarding-school. Here I made several charming acquaintances;
but my cruel fortunes still triumphed. I was informed that great
exertions were making to get me out of the kingdom. It had been
rumored that the Abbe Sieyes, whom I had never even seen, had made me
a visit. The king said he 'would not banish me from his library, but
that he would not allow me to remain in his territories.' Accordingly
a police officer came with an order for me to leave the kingdom in two
hours. This was a real thunderbolt. Leaving all my effects behind me,
I got into a carriage and drove away. We were obliged to travel to the
frontiers without stopping, except for meals. Three weeks after I
reached Hamburg, I received my baggage and manuscripts from Berlin.
During my stay here, I saw Pamela and her husband. I soon perceived
that Lord Edward had imbibed opinions dangerous to his own government,
and feared that he was about to engage in some desperate enterprise.
"I now went to Holstein, and took up my abode with M. Peterson, in a
delightful thatched cottage. The family was charming, and the rural
style of living just what I liked. I assisted in churning the butter,
and fed on the most delicious red partridges. I here performed a
literary labor that greatly fatigued me. In the morning, I wrote the
'_Petits Emigres_,' and in the evening, I occupied myself with the
'_Voeux Temeraires_.' Beside this, I wrote all the fables of '_Herbier
Moral_.'
"I learned by the newspapers that Lord Edward Fitzgerald was arrested
in consequence of intrigues in Ireland.[7] I found also that my
brother had perished at sea. I became now seriously ill, was attacked
with fever, and recovered only as by a miracle. The king of Prussia,
Frederic William II., having died in 1797, his son, the prince royal,
authorized me to return to Berlin, where 'I should always find peace
and repose.' Though still weak, I set out, arrived there in safety,
and was received with delight by Mademoiselle Bocquet. She had
prepared for me a charming apartment, fitted up with all the attention
of kind friendship."
We have thus far presented an abridgment of Madame de Genlis's own
narrative: we must now hasten to the conclusion. Under the consulship
of Bonaparte, who had a favorable opinion of her talents, she returned
to Paris, and became one of his admirers and panegyrists. After the
restoration of the Bourbons, she wrote in defence of monarchy and
religion.
Her pen seemed inexhaustible, and she continued at intervals to pour
forth its productions upon the public. She had passed her eightieth
year when her "Memoirs" were written. She lived to witness the
astonishing events of July, 1830, and to see her former pupil raised
to the throne under the title of Louis Philippe. She died December
31st, 1830, aged 84 years.
The character of Madame de Genlis is not without marks of weakness,
and she has been charged even with gross departures from the path of
rectitude. On this point, however, the proof is not clear. Her
"Memoirs" display a degree of vanity only to be palliated by the
customs of her sex in France; and her opinions on public affairs
appear to have fluctuated with her fortunes. Yet, as a writer,
particularly of works of fiction, which blend instruction with
amusement, and have especially in view the inculcation of just
sentiments, she has had few equals. Her "Palace of Truth," and "Tales
of the Castle," are among the most captivating, yet useful books of
the kind, that were ever penned. Some of her works are exceptionable
in respect to their tendency; yet, on the whole, we are bound to
assign to her the credit of an excellent heart, and a high order of
genius. Her works have been published in eighty-four volumes,
duodecimo.
[4] Now Louis Philippe, king of France. See note, p. 212 [ed: Footnote
5].
[5] The Duke of Chartres, afterwards Duke of Orleans, and now Louis
Philippe, king of the French, was born at Paris, October 6th,
1773. His education has been described in the preceding pages.
In 1791, he served in the army, and subsequently held various
military stations, in which he displayed great gallantry. In
1793, having expressed his horror at the excesses of the
revolution, a decree of arrest was levelled against him. To
escape this, he went to Switzerland, where he met his sister and
Madame de Genlis, as related. During his wanderings over this
country, he had to contend with fatigue, poverty, and
persecution. He travelled from place to place, often alone, and
destitute of money.
After the death of his father, Switzerland no longer became a
safe place for him, and he went to Hamburg, to escape to
America. But here his funds failed him, and he spent some time
in travelling in Norway and Lapland, proceeding even to the
North Cape. In September, 1796, he embarked for America, where
he was joined by his brothers, the Duke of Montpensier and Count
Beaujolais. They travelled through the country, though often
distressed for the want of money. After various wanderings, they
reached England. The Duke of Montpensier died in 1807; and the
Count Beaujolais soon after. In November, 1809, Louis Philippe
was married, at Palermo, to the Princess Amelia, daughter of the
king of Sicily. On the restoration of the Bourbons in 1815, he
returned to Paris, and inherited a large part of the immense
wealth of his father. In 1830, he was elevated to the throne.
His family presents a model of union, good morals, and domestic
virtue, and he is himself one of the ablest of living
sovereigns. If his character is in any considerable degree owing
to his education,--and we cannot doubt that it is,--it furnishes
an imperishable monument to the honor of Madame de Genlis.
[6] The position of Madame de Genlis does not permit her to do justice
to the character of the Duke of Orleans, which is one of the
most infamous in history. He was born in 1747, and was descended
from the Duke of Orleans, only brother of Louis XIV. In his
youth he was distinguished for his licentiousness, and during
the revolution he acquired an unfortunate notoriety. He joined
the Jacobins, and cooeperated with Robespierre, Marat, and
Danton. He renounced his royal titles, and assumed that of M.
Egalite. He voted for the death of his relative, Louis XVI., and
was present at his execution. But the storm he had assisted to
raise was now directed against him. He was included in the
general proscription of the Bourbons, and was guillotined
November 6th, 1793. His wife, who sustained an excellent
character, returned to Paris after the restoration, and died in
1821.
[7] Lord Edward Fitzgerald was the son of the Duke of Leinster, and
born in Ireland, October 15th, 1763. He was educated for the
military profession, and served in the American war with credit.
He was an ardent lover of liberty, and deeply felt the wrongs
done to his native country by the British government. He hailed
the French revolution as the dawn of universal freedom: in 1792
he went to Paris, and participated in the intoxication of that
eventful era. After his marriage to Pamela, he went to Ireland,
and became one of the leaders in the rebellion of 1798. He
became obnoxious to the government, and was arrested while
concealed in a house in Dublin. He was at the time in bed: he
resisted fiercely, and wounded two of the officers, one of them
mortally. He received a pistol ball in his shoulder, and, being
confined in Newgate, died June 4th, 1798.
He was a man of remarkable elevation and singleness of mind, and
was greatly endeared to his friends. The letters written by
different members of his family, at the time of his arrest and
during his confinement in prison, published by his biographer,
Moore, are among the most touching that were ever penned. Their
attachment to their unfortunate relation amounted almost to
idolatry.
His wife, who had three children at the time of his death, seems
to have been a fit partner for so noble a spirit. The letters
above alluded to depict her character as one of extraordinary
elevation and loveliness. Some doubt about her parentage has
existed; but, as we have given the statement of Madame de Genlis
upon the subject, it does not seem necessary to say more. She
returned to France, and her remains are deposited in the
cemetery of Mont Martre, at Paris.