I
Why did he love her? Curious fool, be still!
Is human love the fruit of human will?
BYRON.
Just about six months before my departure for Spain, I first met the
Chevalier des Grieux. Though I rarely quitted my retreat, still the
interest I felt in my child's welfare induced me occasionally to
undertake short journeys, which, however, I took good care to abridge
as much as possible.
I was one day returning from Rouen, where I had been, at her request,
to attend a cause then pending before the Parliament of Normandy,
respecting an inheritance to which I had claims derived from my
maternal grandfather. Having taken the road by Evreux, where I slept
the first night, I on the following day, about dinner-time, reached
Passy, a distance of five or six leagues. I was amazed, on entering
this quiet town, to see all the inhabitants in commotion. They were
pouring from their houses in crowds, towards the gate of a small inn,
immediately before which two covered vans were drawn up. Their horses
still in harness, and reeking from fatigue and heat, showed that the
cortege had only just arrived. I stopped for a moment to learn the
cause of the tumult, but could gain little information from the curious
mob as they rushed by, heedless of my enquiries, and hastening
impatiently towards the inn in the utmost confusion. At length an
archer of the civic guard, wearing his bandolier, and carrying a
carbine on his shoulder, appeared at the gate; so, beckoning him
towards me, I begged to know the cause of the uproar. "Nothing, sir,"
said he, "but a dozen of the frail sisterhood, that I and my comrades
are conducting to Havre-de-Grace, whence we are to ship them for
America. There are one or two of them pretty enough; and it is that,
apparently, which attracts the curiosity of these good people."
I should have passed on, satisfied with this explanation, if my
attention had not been arrested by the cries of an old woman, who was
coming out of the inn with her hands clasped, and exclaiming:
"A downright barbarity!--A scene to excite horror and compassion!"
"What may this mean?" I enquired. "Oh! sir; go into the house
yourself," said the woman, "and see if it is not a sight to rend your
heart!" Curiosity made me dismount; and leaving my horse to the care
of the ostler, I made my way with some difficulty through the crowd,
and did indeed behold a scene sufficiently touching.
Among the twelve girls, who were chained together by the waist in two
rows, there was one, whose whole air and figure seemed so ill-suited to
her present condition, that under other circumstances I should not have
hesitated to pronounce her a person of high birth. Her excessive
grief, and even the wretchedness of her attire, detracted so little
from her surpassing beauty, that at first sight of her I was inspired
with a mingled feeling of respect and pity.
She tried, as well as the chain would permit her, to turn herself away,
and hide her face from the rude gaze of the spectators. There was
something so unaffected in the effort she made to escape observation,
that it could but have sprung from natural and innate modesty alone.
As the six men who escorted the unhappy train were together in the
room, I took the chief one aside and asked for information respecting
this beautiful girl. All that he could supply was of the most vague
kind. "We brought her," he said, "from the Hospital, by order of the
lieutenant-general of police. There is no reason to suppose that she
was shut up there for good conduct.
"I have questioned her often upon the road; but she persists in
refusing even to answer me. Yet, although I received no orders to make
any distinction between her and the others, I cannot help treating her
differently, for she seems to me somewhat superior to her companions.
Yonder is a young man," continued the archer, "who can tell you, better
than I can, the cause of her misfortunes. He has followed her from
Paris, and has scarcely dried his tears for a single moment. He must
be either her brother or her lover."
I turned towards the corner of the room, where this young man was
seated. He seemed buried in a profound reverie. Never did I behold a
more affecting picture of grief. He was plainly dressed; but one may
discover at the first glance a man of birth and education. As I
approached him he rose, and there was so refined and noble an
expression in his eyes, in his whole countenance, in his every
movement, that I felt an involuntary impulse to render him any service
in my power. "I am unwilling to intrude upon your sorrows," said I,
taking a seat beside him, "but you will, perhaps, gratify the desire I
feel to learn something about that beautiful girl, who seems little
formed by nature for the miserable condition in which she is placed."
He answered me candidly, that he could not communicate her history
without making himself known, and that he had urgent reasons for
preserving his own incognito. "I may, however, tell you this much, for
it is no longer a secret to these wretches," he continued, pointing to
the guards,--"that I adore her with a passion so ardent and absorbing
as to render me the most unhappy of human beings. I tried every means
at Paris to effect her liberty. Petitions, artifice, force--all
failed. Go where she may, I have resolved to follow her--to the
extremity of the world. I shall embark with her and cross to America.
"But think of the brutal inhumanity of these cowardly ruffians," he
added, speaking of the guards; "they will not allow me to approach her!
I had planned an open attack upon them some leagues from Paris; having
secured, as I thought, the aid of four men, who for a considerable sum
hired me their services. The traitors, however, left me to execute my
scheme single-handed, and decamped with my money. The impossibility of
success made me of course abandon the attempt, I then implored of the
guards permission to follow in their train, promising them a
recompense. The love of money procured their consent; but as they
required payment every time I was allowed to speak to her, my purse was
speedily emptied; and now that I am utterly penniless, they are
barbarous enough to repulse me brutally, whenever I make the slightest
attempt to approach her. It is but a moment since, that venturing to
do so, in spite of their threats, one of the fellows raised the
butt-end of his musket. I am now driven by their exactions to dispose
of the miserable horse that has brought me hither, and am preparing to
continue the journey on foot."
Although he seemed to recite this story tranquilly enough, I observed
the tears start to his eyes as he concluded. This adventure struck me
as being not less singular than it was affecting. "I do not press
you," said I to him, "to make me the confidant of your secrets; but if
I can be of use to you in any way, I gladly tender you my services."
"Alas!" replied he, "I see not the slightest ray of hope. I must
reconcile myself to my destiny in all its rigour. I shall go to
America: there, at least, I may be free to live with her I love. I
have written to a friend, who will send me money to Havre-de-Grace. My
only difficulty is to get so far, and to supply that poor creature,"
added he, as he cast a look of sorrow at his mistress, "with some few
comforts upon the way." "Well!" said I to him, "I shall relieve you
from that difficulty. Here is some money, of which I entreat your
acceptance: I am only sorry that I can be of no greater service to you."
I gave him four louis-d'ors without being perceived by the guards; for
I thought that if they knew he had this money, they might have raised
the price of their concessions. It occurred to me, even, to come to an
understanding with them, in order to secure for the young man the
privilege of conversing with his mistress, during the rest of the
journey to Havre, without hindrance. I beckoned the chief to approach,
and made the proposition to him. It seemed to abash the ruffian, in
spite of his habitual effrontery. "It is not, sir," said he, in an
embarrassed tone, "that we refuse to let him speak to the girl, but he
wishes to be always near her, which puts us to inconvenience; and it is
just that we should be paid for the trouble he occasions." "Let us
see!" said I to him, "what would suffice to prevent you from feeling
the inconvenience?" He had the audacity to demand two louis. I gave
them to him on the spot. "But have a care," said I to him, "that we
have no foul play: for I shall give the young man my address, in order
that he may write to me on his arrival; and be assured that I am not
without the power to punish you." It cost me altogether six
louis-d'ors.
The graceful manner and heartfelt gratitude with which the young
unknown thanked me, confirmed my notion that he was of good birth and
merited my kindness. I addressed a few words to his mistress before I
left the room. She replied to me with a modesty so gentle and so
charming that I could not help making, as I went out, a thousand
reflections upon the incomprehensible character of women.
Returned to my retreat, I remained in ignorance of the result of this
adventure; and ere two years had passed, it was completely blotted from
my recollection, when chance brought me an opportunity of learning all
the circumstances from beginning to end.
I arrived at Calais, from London, with my pupil, the Marquis of ----.
We lodged, if I remember rightly, at the "Golden Lion," where, for some
reason, we were obliged to spend the following day and night. Walking
along the streets in the afternoon, I fancied I saw the same young man
whom I had formerly met at Passy. He was miserably dressed, and much
paler than when I first saw him. He carried on his arm an old
portmanteau, having only just arrived in the town. However, there was
an expression in his countenance too amiable not to be easily
recognised, and which immediately brought his features to my
recollection. "Observe that young man," said I to the Marquis; "we must
accost him."
His joy was beyond expression when, in his turn, he recognised me.
"Ah, sir!" he cried, kissing my hand, "I have then once again an
opportunity of testifying my eternal gratitude to you!" I enquired of
him whence he came. He replied, that he had just arrived, by sea, from
Havre, where he had lately landed from America. "You do not seem to be
too well off for money," said I to him; "go on to the 'Golden Lion,'
where I am lodging; I will join you in a moment."
I returned, in fact, full of impatience to learn the details of his
misfortunes, and the circumstances of his voyage to America. I gave him
a thousand welcomes, and ordered that they should supply him with
everything he wanted. He did not wait to be solicited for the history
of his life. "Sir," said he to me, "your conduct is so generous, that
I should consider it base ingratitude to maintain any reserve towards
you. You shall learn not only my misfortunes and sufferings, but my
faults and most culpable weaknesses. I am sure that, even while you
blame me, you will not refuse me your sympathy."
I should here inform the reader that I wrote down the story almost
immediately after hearing it; and he may, therefore, be assured of the
correctness and fidelity of the narrative. I use the word fidelity
with reference to the substance of reflections and sentiments, which
the young man conveyed in the most graceful language. Here, then, is
his story, which in its progress I shall not encumber with a single
observation that was not his own.