This eBook was produced by Marjorie Fulton.
THE DIARY AND LETTERS
OF
MADAME D'ARBLAY
(FRANCES BURNEY.)
WITH NOTES BY W. C. WARD,
AND PREFACED BY LORD MACAULAY'S ESSAY.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
(1792-1840.)
WITH A PORTRAIT OF GENERAL D'ARBLAY.
LONDON AND NEW YORK:
FREDERICK WARNE AND CO.
1892.
19. (1792-3) THE FRENCH POLITICAL EMIGRANTS: MISS BURNEY MARRIES
M. D'ARBLAY--11-70
Arrival of French Emigrants at juniper Hall--The Doctor's five
Daughters--A Visit to Arthur Young--The Duke de Liancourt's
abortive Efforts at Rouen--The Duke's Escape to England: "Pot
Portere"--Madame de Genlis's hasty Retreat--A Nobleman of the
Ancien Regime--Ducal Vivacity and Sadness--Graceful offers of
Hospitality--The Emigrants at juniper Hall described--Monsieur
d'Arblay--M. de Jaucourt: Madame de Stael--Severe Decrees against
the Emigrants--Monsieur Girardin--The Phillipses at juniper
Hall--Mystery attending M. de Narbonne's Birth--Revolutionary
Societies in Norfolk: Death of Mr. Francis--Departure of Madame
de la Chatre--Arrival of M. de la Chatre--English Feeling at the
Revolutionary Excesses--Louis XVI's Execution--A Gloomy Club
Meeting--Madame de Stael at juniper Hall--Miss Burney's
Admiration of Madame de Stael--Failing Resources--The Beginning
of the End--"This Enchanting Monsieur d'Arblay"--Talleyrand is
found charming--A Proposed Visit to Madame de Stael disapproved
of--M. de Lally Tolendal and his Tragedy--Contemplated Dispersion
of the French Colony--Madame de Stael's Words of Farewell: M.
d'Arblay--Regrets respecting Madame do Stael--M. d'Arblay's Visit
to Chesington--The Matrimonial Project is Discussed--Dr. Burney's
Objections to the Match--The Marriage takes place--Announcement
of the Marriage to a Friend.
20. (1793-6) LOVE IN A COTTAGE: THE D'ARBLAYS VISIT WINDSOR--
71-121
The French Clergy Fund: The Toulon Expedition--Madame d'Arblay on
her Marriage--Mr. Canning--Talleyrand's Letters of Adieu--M.
d'Arblay's Horticultural Pursuits--Mrs. Piozzi--M. d'Arblay as a
Gardener--A Novel and a Tragedy--
page vi
Hastings's Acquittal: Dr. Burney's Metastasio--Baby d'Arblay--The
withdrawn Tragedy--"Camilla"--An Invitation to the Hermitage--
Presentation of "Camilla" at Windsor--A Conversation with the
Queen--With the Princess Royal and Princess Augusta--A Present
from the King and Queen--Curiosity regarding M. d'Arblay--The
King approves the Dedication of "Camilla"--A delicious Chat with
the Princesses--The King notices M. d'Arblay--The King and Queen
on "Camilla"--Anecdote of the Duchess of York--A Visit to Mrs.
Boscawen--The Relative Success of Madame d'Arblay's Novels--A
Contemplated Cottage--The Princess Royal's first Interview with
her Fianc`e--Opinions of the Reviews on "Camilla"--Death of
Madame d'Arblay's Stepmother--The French Emigr`es at Norbury--Dr.
Burney's depressed state--Covetous of Personal Distinction--Baby
d'Arblay again and other Matters.
21. (1797-8) "CAMILLA" COTTAGE: SUNDRY VISITS TO THE ROYAL
FAMILY--122-169
A Disagreeable journey Home--Burke's Funeral at Beaconsfield--
Death of M. d'Arblay's Brother--From Crewe Hall to Chelsea--At
Dr. Herschel's--Hospitality under Difficulties--War Taxes:
"Camilla" Cottage--Visitors arrive inopportunely-Another Visit to
the Royal Family--Interview with the Queen--The King and his
Infant Grand-daughter--Admiral Duncan's Victory--The Prince and
Princess of Orange--Some Notable Actresses--The Duke of
Clarence--Princess Sophia of Gloucester--Indignation against
Talleyrand--The d'Arblay Maisonnette--Interview with the Queen
and the Princesses--Royal Contributions towards the War--
Invitation to the Play--Mrs Schwellenberg's Successor--Madame
d'Arblay's Little Boy at Court--His Presentation to the Queen--
Mlle. Bachmeister produces a Favourable Impression.
22. (1798-1802) VISITS TO OLD FRIENDS: WEST HANIBLE: DEATH OF
MRS. PHILLIPS: SOJOURN IN FRANCE--170-247
A Visit to Mrs. Chapone--Mrs. Boscawen, Lady Strange, and Mr.
Seward--A Mysterious Bank-Note--The new Brother-in-law: a Cordial
Professor--Precocious Master Alex--The
Page vii
Barbaulds--Princess Amelia at juniper Hall--Death of Mr. Seward--
Dr. Burney again visits Dr. Herschel--Dr. Burney and the King--
Overwhelmed with the Royal Graciousness--War Rumours--Illness and
Death of Mrs. Phillips--A Princess's Condescension--Horticultural
Misfortunes--A Withdrawn Comedy--M. d'Arblay's French Property--
Home Matters--Contemplated journey to France--M. d'Arblay's Rough
Sea Passage--Suggested Abandonment of Camilla Cottage--M.
d'Arblay's Proposed Retirement from Military Service--M.
d'Arblay's Disappointment--On the eve of Madame d'Arblay's
journey to France--In France during the Peace and subsequently--
Arrival at Calais--"God save the King!" on French Soil--A Ramble
through the Town--Sunday on the Road to Paris--Engagements,
Occupations, and Fatigues--Aristocratic Visitors--Anxiety to see
the first Consul--At the Opera-bouffe--Difficulties respecting
Madame de Stael--Madame de Lafayette--Sight-seeing at the
Tuileries--A Good Place is Secured--M. d'Arblay's Military
Comrades--Arrival of the Troops--An Important New Acquaintance--
Madame c'est mon Mari--Advent of the first Consul--The Parade of
Troops--A Scene--With M. d'Arblay's Relatives at joigny--Some
joigny Acquaintances--The Influenza in Paris--Rumours of War--
"Our little Cell at Passy"--The Prince of Wales eulogized--Dr.
Burney at Bath--Affectionate Greetings to Dr. Burney--Dr.
Burney's Diploma.
23. (1812-14) MADAME D'ARBLAY AND HER SON IN ENGLAND--248-291
Narrative of Madame d'Arblay's journey to London--Anxiety to see
Father and Friends--A Mild Minister of Police--Embarkation
Interdicted--A Change of Plan--A New Passport obtained--
Commissions for London--Delay at Dunkirk--The MS. of "The
Wanderer"--Spanish Prisoners at Dunkirk--Surprised by an Officer
of Police--Interrogated at the Police Office--The "Mary Ann"
captured off Deal--joy on arriving in England--Young d'Arblay
secures a Scholarship--The Queen alarmed by a Mad Woman--Weather
Complaints: Proposed Meeting with Lord Lansdowne--A Young Girl's
entry to London Society: Madame de Sta`el--Rogers the Poet--
Interview with Mr. Wilberforce--Intended Publication of "The
Wanderer"--General d'Arblay's wounded Comrades
Page viii
--Death of Dr. Burney--Favourable News of M. d'Arblay--"The
Wanderer"--Madame d'Arblay's Presentation to Louis XVIII.--At
Grillon's Hotel--Grattan the Orator--A Demonstrative Irish Lady-
-Inquiries after the Duchess d'Angouleme--Preparations for the
Presentations--Arrival of Louis XVIII.--The Presentations to the
King--A Flattering Royal Reception--An important Letter Delayed--
M. d'Arblay arrives in England--A Brilliant Assemblage--M.
d'Arblay enters Louis XVIII.'s Bodyguard.
24. (1815) MADAME D'ARBLAY AGAIN IN FRANCE: BONAPARTE'S ESCAPE
FROM ELBA--292-333
An Interview with the Duchess of Angouleme--Arrival at the
Tuileries--A Mis-apprehension--A Discovery and a Rectification--
Conversation on Madame d'Arblay's Escape and M. d'Arblay's
Loyalty--The Prince Regent the Duchess's Favourite--Narrative of
Madame d'Arblay's Flight from Paris to Brussels--Prevailing
Inertia on Bonaparte's return from Elba--Bonaparte's Advance:
Contemplated Migration from Paris--General d'Arblay's Military
Preparations--Preparations for Flight:
Leave-takings--Aristocratic Irritability--The Countess d'Auch's
Composure--Rumours of Bonaparte's near approach--Departure from
Paris at Night Time--A Halt at Le Bourget--The journey Resumed--A
Supper at Amiens with the Prefect--Reception at the Prefecture at
Arras--A Cheerful D6jeuner somewhat ruffled--A Loyal Prefect--
Emblems of Loyalty at Douay--State of Uncertainty at Orchies--A
Mishap on the Road--A kindly offer of Shelter--Alarmed by Polish
Lancers--Arrival at Tournay--Futile Efforts to Communicate with
M. d'Arblay--Interviews with M. de Chateaubriand.
25. (1815) AT BRUSSELS: WATERLOO: REJOINS M. D'ARBLAY--334--383
Sojourn at Brussels--Letters from General d'Arblay--Arrival of
General d'Arblay--A Mission entrusted to General d'Arblay--"Rule
Britannia!" in the All`ee Verte--General d'Arblay leaves for
Luxembourg--An Exchange of visits--The Fete Dieu--The Eccentric
Lady Caroline Lamb--A Proposed Royal Corps--Painful Suspense--
Inquietude at Brussels--The Black
Page ix
Brunswickers--The Opening of the Campaign--News from the Field of
Battle--Project for quitting Brussels--Calmly awaiting the
Result--Flight to Antwerp determined on--A Check met with--A
Captured French General--The Dearth of News--Rumours of the
French coming--French Prisoners brought in--News of Waterloo--The
Victory declared to be complete--The Wounded and the Prisoners--
Hostilities at an end: Te Deum for the Victory--Maternal Advice--
About the Great Battle--An Accident befalls General d'Arblay--
Madame d'Arblay's Difficulties in rejoining her Husband--A
Friendly Reception at Cologne--From Cologne to Coblenz and
Treves--Meeting with General d'Arblay--Waiting for Leave to
return to France--Departure for Paris--A Chance View of the
Emperor of Russia--English Troops in Occupation--Leavetaking: M.
de Talleyrand.
26. (1815-8) AT BATH AND ILFRACOMBE: GENERAL D'ARBLAY'S ILLNESS
AND DEATH--384--431
Arrival in England--Alexander d'Arblay: Some old Bath Friends--
French Affairs: General d'Arblay's Health--The Escape of
Lavalette: The Streatham Portraits--Regarding Husband and Son--
Maternal Anxieties--Advantages of Bath: Young d'Arblay's Degree--
Playful Reproaches and Sober Counsel--Preparations for leaving
Bath--Installed at Ilfracombe--A Captured Spanish Ship--The
Spanish Captain's Cook--Ships in Distress--Young d'Arblay's
Tutor--General d'Arblay's Ill-health--Particulars of Ilfracombe--
Young d'Arblay's Aversion to Study--A Visit from the first Chess
Player in England--A Coast Ramble in search of Curiosities--
Caught, by the Rising Tide--Efforts to reach a place of safety--A
Signal of Distress--Little Diane--Increasing Danger--The Last
Wave of the Rising Tide--Arrival of Succour--Meeting between
Mother and Son--General d'Arblay's return to England--The
Princess Charlotte's Death--The Queen and Princesses at Bath--
News arrives of the Princess Charlotte's Death--An old
Acquaintance: Serious Illness of General d'Arblay--The General's
First Attack: Delusive Hopes--General d'Arblay presented to the
Queen--Gloomy Forebodings--Presents from the Queen and Princess
Elizabeth--The General receives the Visit of a Priest--The Last
Sacrament Administered--Farewell Words of Counsel--The End
Arrives.
Page x
27. (1818-40) YEARS OF WIDOWHOOD: DEATH OF MADAME D'ARBLAY'S SON:
HER OWN DEATH--435--458
Mournful Reflections--Visits received and Letters penned--Removal
from Bath to London--Death of the Queen: Sketch of her Character-
-Madame d'Arblay's Son is Ordained--With some Royal Highnesses--
Queen Caroline--Gossip from an Old Friend, and the Reply--More
Gossip--Ill-health of the Rev. A. d'Arblay: Dr. Burney's MSS.--A
last Gossiping Letter--Death of Mrs. Piozzi--Mrs. Piozzi compared
with Madame de Stael--Sister Hetty--Official Duties Temporarily
Resumed--The Rev. A. d'Arblay named Lent Preacher--Madame
d'Arblay's Health and Occupation--Destroyed Correspondence--The
Princess and the Rev. A. d'Arblay--A Visit from Sir Walter
Scott--Memoirs of Dr. Burney--Deaths of Hester Burney and Mrs.
Locke--Death of the Rev. A. d'Arblay--Death of Madame d'Arblay's
sister Charlotte--Illness and Death of Madame d'Arblay.
INDEX--459-480Page 11
SECTION 19.
(1792-3)
THE FRENCH POLITICAL EMIGRANTS:
MISS BURNEY MARRIES M. D'ARBLAY.
[The following section must be pronounced, from the historical
point of view, one of the most valuable in the " Diary." It gives
us authentic glimpses of some of the actors in that great
Revolution, "the Death-Birth of a new order," which was getting
itself transacted, with such terrible accompaniments, across the
channel. The refugees with whom Fanny grew acquainted, and who
formed the little colony at juniper Hall, near Dorking, were not
the men of the first emigration--princes and nobles who fled
their country, like cowards, as soon as they found themselves in
danger, and reentered it like traitors, in the van of a foreign
invasion. Not such were the inmates of Juniper Hall. These were
constitutional monarchists, men who had taken part with the
people in the early stage of the Revolution, who had been
instrumental in making the Constitution, and who had sought
safety in flight only when the Constitution was crushed and the
monarchy abolished by the triumph of the extreme party. To the
grands seigneurs of the first emigration, these constitutional
royalists, were scarcely less detestable than the jacobins
themselves.
A few leading facts and dates will perhaps assist the reader to a
clearer understanding of the situation. September 1791, the
French Assembly, having finished its work of Constitution-making,
and the said [Constitution being accepted by the king, retires
gracefully, and the new Assembly, constitutionally elected,
meets, October 1. But the Constitution, ushered in with such
rejoicings, proves a failure. The king has the right to veto the
acts of the Assembly, and he exerts that right with a vengeance
:--vetoes their most urgent decrees: decree against the emigrant
noblesse, plotting, there at Coblenz, the downfall of their
country; decree against nonjuring priests, intriguing endlessly
against the Constitution. Patriot-Minister Roland remonstrates
with his majesty, and the patriotic ministry is forthwith
dismissed. Meanwhile distress and
Page 12
disorder are everywhere, and emigration is on the increase
Abroad, Austria and Prussia are threatening invasion, and the
emigrants at Coblenz are clamorous for war. War with Austria is
declared, April 20, 1792; war with Prussia follows three months
later; England remaining still neutral. One of our friends of
juniper Hall, Madame de Staél's friend, Count Louis de Narbonne,
has been constitutional minister of war, but had to retire in
March, when the popular ministry--Roland's--came into office. It
is evident that the king and the Assembly cannot act together;
nay, the king himself feels the impossibility of it, and is
already setting his hopes on foreign interference, secretly
corresponding with Austria and Prussia. The people of Paris,
too, feel the impossibility, and are setting their hopes on
something very different. The monarchy must go; jacobins'
club(1) and men of the Gironde, afterwards at death- grapple with
one another, are now united on this point; they, and not a
constitutional government, are the true representatives of Paris
and of France.
A year ago, July 1791, the people of Paris, demanding the
deposition of the king, were dispersed by General Lafayette with
volleys of musketry. But Lafayette's popularity and power are
now gone. "The hero of two worlds," as he was called, was little
more than a boy when he fought under Washington, in the cause of
American independence. Animated by the same love of liberty
which had carried him to America, Lafayette took part in the
early movements of the French Revolution. In 1789, after the
fall of the Bastille, he was commander of the national guard, and
one of the most popular men in France. A high-minded man, full
of sincerity, of enthusiasm: "Cromwell Grandison," Mirabeau
nicknamed him. Devoted to the Constitution, Lafayette was no
friend to the extreme party, to the jacobins, with their Danton,
their Robespierre. He had striven for liberty, but for liberty
and monarchy combined; and the two things were fast becoming
irreconcilable. And now, in July 1792, distrusted alike by the
Court and the people, Lafayette sits sad at Sedan, in the midst
of his army. War has already commenced, with a desultory and
unsuccessful attack by the French upon the Austrian Netherlands.
But the real struggle is now approaching. Heralded by an insolent
proclamation, the Duke of Brunswick is marching from Coblenz with
more than a hundred thousand Prussians, Austrians, and emigrants
; and General Lafayette, alas ! appears more bent upon denouncing
jacobinism than upon defending the frontier.
The country is indeed in danger. With open hostility advancing
from without, doubt and suspicion fermenting within, Paris at
last rises in good earnest, August 10, 1792. This is the answer
to Brunswick's insolent proclamation. Paris attacks the
Tuileries, King Louis and his family taking refuge in the
Assembly; captures the Tuileries, not without terrible loss, the
brave Swiss guard
Page 13
standing steadfast to their posts, and getting, the greater part
of them, massacred. Yielding to the demands of the people, the
Assembly passes decrees suspending the king, dismissing the
ministers, and convoking a National Convention. This was the
work of the famous 10th of August, the birthday of the French
Republic. on the 13th August the royal family is sent to the
prison of the Temple from whence the king and the queen, unhappy
Marie Antoinette, will come forth only to trial and execution. A
new patriotic ministry is formed--Rolan again minister of the
interior, Danton, the soul of the insurrection, minister of
justice; a tribunal is appointed) and the prisons of Paris are
filled with persons suspect. Executions follow; but the tribunal
makes not quick enough work. Austrians and Prussians are
advancing towards Paris; in Paris itself thousands of
aristocrats, enemies to their country, are lying hid, ready to
join the foreign foes.
In these desperate straits, Paris, at least sansculotte Paris,
frenzied and wild for vengeance, falls upon the mad expedient of
massacring the prisoners: more than a thousand suspected
royalists are slaughtered, after brief improvised Trial or
pretence of trial; or even without trial at all. This butchery
is known as the "September massacres" (Sept. 2-6, 1792), infamous
in history, heartily approved by few, perhaps, even of the more
violent Republicans; indignantly denounced by Rowland and the
less violent, powerless, nevertheless, to interfere, Paris being
"in death-panic, the enemy and gibbets at its door."(2) Sept.
22, the Legislative Assembly having
Dissolved, the National Convention holds its first meeting and
proclaims the Republic: royalty for ever abolished in France.
Among the feelings, with which the news of these events are
received in England, horror predominates. Still the Government
takes no decisive step. The English ambassador in Paris, Lord
Gower, is indeed recalled, in consequence of the events of August
10, but the French ambassador, Chauvelin, yet remains in London,
although unrecognised in an official capacity after the
deposition of Louis. War is in the wind, and, although Fox and
many members of the opposition earnestly deprecate any hostile
interference in the affairs of the Republic, a strong contingent
of the Whig party, headed by Burke, is not less earnest in their
efforts to make peace with France impossible. Pitt, indeed, is in
favour of neutrality, but Pitt is forced to give way at last.
Meanwhile, the popular feeling in favour of the royalists is
being heightened and extended by the constant influx of French
refugees. Thousands of the recalcitrant clergy, especially, with
no king's veto now to protect them, are seeking safety, in
England. Many adherents of the Constitution, too, ex-members of
the Assembly and others, are fleeing hither from a country
intolerant of monarchists, even constitutional; establishing
themselves at juniper Hall and elsewhere. Among them we note the
Duke de Liancourt, whose escape the
reader will find related in the following pages; Count de Lally-
Page 14
Tollendal and M. de jaucourt, saved, both, by - good fortune,
from the September massacres ; Vicomte de Montmorency, or call
him citoyen, who voted for the abolition of titles; ex-minister
of war Narbonne, concealed after August 10 by Madame de Stael,
and escaping disguised as a servant; and presently, too, Madame
de Stael herself; and last, but not least interesting to readers
of the Diary, General Alexandre dArblay, whom Fanny will before
long fall in love with and marry.
One person, too, there is, more noteworthy, or at least more
prominent in history, than any of these, whom Fanny meets at
Mickleham, whom she dislikes instinctively at first sight, but
whose plausible speech and ingratiating manners soon make a
convert of her.
This is citizen Talleyrand--Charles Maurice de
Talleyrand-Prigord, Bishop of Autun. He, too, is now an
emigrant, although he came to England in a far different
character, as secret ambassador from the Constitutional
Government of France ; citizen Chauvelin being the nominal
ambassador. On the whole, Talleyrand's diplomacy has not been
productive of much good, to himself or others. Back in Paris
before the 10th of August, he returned to London in September
with a passport from Danton. A questionable man; some think him a
jacobin, others a royalist in disguise. And now, while he is in
London, there is talk of him in the Convention : citizen
Talleyrand, it seems, has professed himself " disposed to serve
the king ;" whereupon (December 5, 1792) citizen Talleyrand is
decreed accused, and his name is inscribed on the list of
emigrants.
We must turn once again to France. At Sedan, in a white heat of
indignation on the news of that 10th of August, constitutional
(sic) Lafayette emits a proclamation : the Constitution is
destroyed, the king a prisoner: let us march for Paris and
restore them! There is hope at first, that the army will follow
Lafayette, but hope tells a flattering tale : the soldiers, it
seems, care more for their country than for the Constitution.
Lafayette sees that all is lost ; rides (August 18) for Holland
with a few friends, of whom General d'Arblay is one; intends to
take passage thence for America, but falls, instead, into the
hands of the Austrians, and spends the next few years imprisoned
in an Austrian fortress. General d'Arblay, after a few days, is
allowed to proceed to England.
Lafayette gone, the command of the army falls to General
Dumouriez. Brunswick with his Prussians and emigrants, Clairfait
with his Austrians, are now in France; advancing upon Paris. They
take Longwy and Verdun; try to take Thonville and Lille, but
cannot; and find Dumouriez and his sansculottes, there in the
passes of Argonne, the "Thermopylae of France," an unexpectedly
hard nut to crack. In fact, the nut is not to be cracked at all:
Dumouriez, " more successful than Leonidas," flings back the
invasion; compels the invaders to evacuate France; and in
November, assuming the offensive, conquers the whole Austrian
Netherlands. Meantime, in the south-east, the war in
Page 15
which the Republic is engaged with the King of Sardinia
progresses also favourably, and Savoy and Nice are added to the
French territory. Europe may arm, but a people fighting for an
ideal is not to be crushed. France has faith in her ideal of
liberty and fraternity, questionable or worse though some of the
methods are by which she endeavours to realise it. But Danton is
right: "il nous faut de l'audace, et encore de l'audace, et
toujours de l'audace;" and with superb audacity the Republic
defies the armed powers of Europe, decrees (November 19)
assistance to every nation that will strike a blow for freedom,
and cast off its tyrants. A yet more daring act of defiance
follows--tragic to all men, unspeakably horrible to Fanny Burney
and all friends of monarchy, constitutional or other. In December
1792, poor King Louis is tried before the National Convention,
found guilty of "conspiring against liberty;" condemned to death
by a majority of votes; in January, executed January 21. It is
even as Danton said in one of his all-too gigantic figures 'the
coalesced kings threaten us; we hurl at their feet, as gage of
battle, the Head of a King."' (3)
Louis's kinsman, profligate Philippe Egalit, ci-devant Duc
d'Orlans, votes for death; before another year has passed he
himself will have perished by the guillotine. In England, war is
resolved upon; even Pitt sees not how it can be avoided. January
24, ambassador Chauvelin is ordered to quit England within eight
days; Talleyrand remaining yet another year. Spain, too, is
arming, and Holland is England's ally. War being inevitable, the
Republic determines to be first in the field; declares war on
England and Holland, February 1, 1793, and on Spain, March
7.-ED.]
ARRIVAL OF FRENCH EMIGRANTS AT JUNIPER HALL.
August 1792. Our ambassador is recalled from France
Russia has declared war against that wretched kingdom. But it may
defy all outward enemies to prove in any degree destructive in
comparison with its lawless and barbarous inmates. We shall soon
have no authentic accounts from Paris, as no English are expected
to remain after the ambassador, and no French will dare to write,
in such times of pillage, what may carry them à la lanterne.(4)
Page 16
(Mrs. Phillips to Fanny Burney.)
Mickleham, September 1792.
We shall shortly, I believe, have a little colony of unfortunate
(or rather) fortunate, since here they are safe) French noblesse
in our neighbourhood. Sunday evening Ravely informed Mr. Locke
that two or three families had joined to take Jenkinson's house,
juniper Hall, and that another family had taken a small house at
Westhamble, which the people very reluctantly let, upon the
Christian-like supposition that, being nothing but French
papishes, they would never pay. Our dear Mr. Locke, while this
was agitating, sent word to the landlord that he would be
answerable for the rent ; however, before this message arrived,
the family were admitted. The man said they had pleaded very hard
indeed, and said, if he did but know the distress they had been
in, he would not hesitate.
This house is taken by Madame de Broglie, daughter of the
mareschal, who is in the army with the French princes;(5) or,
rather, wife to his son, Victor Broglie, till very lately general
of one of the French armies, and at present disgraced, and fled
nobody knows where. This poor lady came over in an open boat,
with a son younger than my Norbury, and was fourteen hours at
sea. She has other ladies with her, and gentlemen, and two little
girls, who had been sent to England some weeks ago; they are all
to lodge in a sort of cottage, containing only a kitchen and
parlour on the ground floor.
I long to offer them my house, 'and have been much gratified by
finding Mr. Locke immediately determined to visit them; his
taking this step will secure them the civilities, at least, of
the other neighbours.
At Jenkinson's are-la Marquise de la Chtre, whose husband is
with the emigrants; her son; M. de Narbonne, lately ministre de
la guerre;(6) M. de Montmorency; Charles or Theodore Lameth;
Jaucourt; and one or two more, whose names I have forgotten, are
either arrived to-day, or expected. I feel infinitely interested
for all these persecuted persons. Pray tell me whatever you hear
of M. de Liancourt, etc. Heaven bless you!
Page 17
THE DOCTOR'S FIVE DAUGHTERS.
(Fanny Burney to Dr. Burney.)
Halstead, October 2, '92.
My dearest padre,-I have just got your direction, in a letter
from my mother, and an account that you seem to be in health and
spirits; so now I think it high time to let you know a little
about some of your daughters, lest you should forget you have any
such incumbrances.
In the first place, two of them, Esther and F. B., had a safe and
commodious journey hither, in the midst of pattering showers and
cloudy skies, making up as well as they could for the
deficiencies of the elements by the dulcet recreation of the
concord of sweet sounds ; not from tabrets and harps, but from
the harmony of hearts with tongues.
In the second place, a third of them, Charlotte F., writes word
her caro sposo has continued very tolerably well this last
fortnight, and that she still desires to receive my visit
according to the first appointment.
In the third place, a fourth of them, Sarah, is living upon
French politics and with French fugitives, at Bradfield,(7) where
she seems perfectly satisfied with foreign forage.
In the fourth place, Susanna, another of them, sends cheering
histories of herself and her tribe, though she concludes them
with a sighing ejaculation of "I wish I did not know there was
such a country as France !"
A VISIT To ARTHUR YOUNG.(8)
Oct. 5.-I left Halstead, and set off, alone, for Bradfield Hall,
which was but one stage of nineteen miles distant. Sarah,(9) who
was staying with her aunt, Mrs. Young, expected
Page 18
me, and came running out before the chaise stopped at the door,
and Mr. Young following, with both hands full of French
newspapers. He welcomed me with all his old spirit and
impetuosity, exclaiming his house never had been so honoured
since its foundation, nor ever could be again, unless I
re-visited it in my way back, even though all England came in the
meantime!
Do you not know him well, my Susan, by this opening rodomontade?
"But where," cried he, "is Hetty? O that Hetty! Why did you not
bring her with you? That wonderful creature! I have half a mind
to mount horse, and gallop to Halstead to claim her! What is
there there to merit her? What kind of animals have you left her
with? Anything capable of understanding her?"
During this we mounted up-stairs, into the dining-room. Here all
looked cold and comfortless, and no Mrs. Young appeared. I
inquired for her, and heard that her youngest daughter, Miss
Patty, had just had a fall from her horse, which had bruised her
face, and occasioned much alarm.
The rest of the day we spoke only of French politics. Mr. Young
is a severe penitent of his democratic principles, and has lost
even all pity for the constituants rvolutionnaires, who had
"taken him in" by their doctrines, but cured him by their
practice, and who "ought better to have known what they were
about before they presumed to enter into action."
Even the Duc de Liancourt,(11) who was then in a small house at
Bury, merited, he said, all the personal misfortunes that had
befallen him. "I have real obligations to him," he added, "and
therefore I am anxious to show him respect, and do him any
service, in his present reverse of fortune; but he has brought it
all on himself, and, what is worse; on his country."
He wrote him, however, a note to invite him to dinner the next
day. The duke wrote an answer, that lamented excessively being
engaged to meet Lord Euston, And dine with the Bury aldermen.
Page 19
THE DUKE DE LIANCOURT'S ABORTIVE EFFORTS AT ROUEN.
I must now tell you the history of this poor duke's arriving in
England, for it involves a revival of loyalty-an effort to make
some amends to his unhappy sovereign for the misery into which he
had largely contributed to plunge him; which, with me, has made
his peace for ever.
But first I should tell, he was the man who almost compelled the
every-way- deluded Louis to sanction the National Assembly by his
presence when first it resisted his orders. The queen and all her
party were strongly against the measure, and prophesied it would
be the ruin of his authority; but the duke, highly ambitious of
fame, as Mr. Young describes him,
and willing to sacrifice everything to the new systems then
pervading all France, suddenly rushed into his closet, upon the
privilege of being one of the five or seven pairs de France(12)
who have that licence, and, with a strong and forcible eloquence,
declared nothing but his concession would save the nation from a
civil war; while his entering, unarmed, into the National
Assembly, would make him regarded for ever as the father and
saviour of his people, and secure him the powerful sovereignty of
the grateful hearts of all his subjects.
He succeeded, and the rest is public.
This incident has set all the Coblenz(13) party utterly and for
ever against the duke. He had been some time in extreme anguish
for the unhappy king, whose ill-treatment on the 20th of June
1792,(14) reached him while commandant at Rouen. He then first
began to see, that the monarch or the jacobins must inevitably
fall, and he could scarce support the prospect of ultimate danger
threatening the former. When the news reached him of the bloody
10th of August, a plan which for some time he had been forming,
of gaining over his regiment to the service of the king, was
rendered abortive. Yet all his officers except One had promised
to join in any enterprise for their insulted master. He had
hoped to get the king to
Page 20
Rouen under this protection, as I gather, though this matter has
never wholly transpired, But the king could not be persuaded to
trust any one. How should he?--especially a revolutionnaire?
No time now was to be lost, and, in his first impetuosity of rage
and despair, he instantly summoned his officers and his troops ;
and, in the midst of them all, upon the parade or place of
assembling, he took off his hat, and called out aloud, "Vive le
roi!"
His officers echoed the sound, all but one!--yet not a soldier
joined. Again be waved his hat, and louder and louder called
out, "Vive le roi!" And then every soldier repeated it after him.
Enchanted with hope, he felt one exulting moment, when this
single dissentient officer called out aloud, as soon as the loyal
cry was over, "As an officer of the nation I forbid this!--Vive
la nation!"
The duke instantly had the man arrested, and retired to his
apartment to compose his excess agitation, and consider how to
turn this promise of loyalty to the service of his now imprisoned
king; but, in a short time, an officer strongly attached to him
entered the room hastily, and cried, "Sauvez
vous, M. de Liancourt!(15)--be speedy! the jacobin party of Rouen
have heard of your indiscretion and a price is this moment set
upon your head!"
The duke knew too well with whom he had to act for a moment's
hesitation. To serve the king was now impossible, as he had but
to appear in order to be massacred. He could only save his own
life by flight.
THE DUKE'S ESCAPE To ENGLAND: "POT PORTERE."
In what manner he effected his escape out of Rouen he has never
mentioned. I believe he was assisted by those who, remaining
behind, could only be named to be torn in pieces for their
humanity. M. Jamard, a French priest, tells me no human being
knows when or how he got away, and none suspected him to be gone
for two days. He went first to Abbeville there, for two days, he
appeared everywhere, walking about in his regimentals, and
assuming an air of having nothing to apprehend. This succeeded,
as his indiscretion had not yet spread at Abbeville; but,
meanwhile, a
Page 21
youth whom he had brought up from a child, and on whose fond
regard and respect he could rely, was employed in seeking him the
means of passing over to England. This was infinitely difficult,
as he was to leave France without any passport.
How he quitted Abbeville I know not; but he was in another town,
near the coast, three days, still waiting for a safe conveyance;
and here, finding his danger increased greatly by delay, he went
to some common house, without dress or equipage or servants that
could betray him, and spent his whole time in bed, under pretence
of indisposition, to avoid being seen.
At length his faithful young groom succeeded; and he got, at
midnight, into a small boat, with only two men. He had been taken
for the King of France by one, who had refused to convey him ;
and some friend, who assisted his escape, was forced to get him
off, at last, by holding a pistol to the head of his conductor,
and protesting he would shoot him through and through, if he made
further demur, or spoke aloud. It was dark, and midnight.
Both he and his groom planted themselves in the bottom of the
boat, and were covered with fagots, lest any pursuit should ensue
: and thus wretchedly they were suffocated till they thought
themselves at a safe distance from France. The poor youth then,
first looking up, exclaimed, "Ah! nous sommes perdus!(16) they
are carrying us back to our own country!" The duke started up; he
had the same opinion, but thought opposition vain; he charged him
to keep silent and quiet; and after about another league, they
found this, at least, a false alarm, owing merely to a thick fog
or mist.
At length they landed--at Hastings, I think. The boatman had his
money, and they walked on to the nearest public-house. The duke,
to seem English, called for "pot portere." It was brought him,
and he drank it off in two draughts, his drought being extreme ;
and he called for another instantly. That also, without any
suspicion or recollection of consequences, was as hastily
swallowed; and what ensued he knows not. He was intoxicated, and
fell into a profound sleep. His groom helped the people of the
house to carry him upstairs and put him to bed. How long he
slept he knows not, but he woke in the middle of the night
without the smallest consciousness of where he was, or what had
happened.
'
Page 22
France alone was in his head-France and its horrors, which
nothing-not even English porter and intoxication and sleep -
could drive away.
He looked round the room with amaze at first, and soon after with
consternation. It was so unfurnished, so
miserable, so lighted with only one small bit of a candle, that
it occurred to him he was in a maison de force(17) '- thither
conveyed in his sleep. The stillness of
everything confirmed this dreadful idea. He arose, slipped on his
clothes, and listened at the door. He heard no sound. He was
scarce, yet, I suppose, quite awake, for he took the candle, and
determined to make an attempt to escape.
Down-stairs he crept, neither hearing nor making any noise and he
found himself in a kitchen ' he looked round, and the brightness
of a shelf of pewter plates struck his eye under them were pots
and kettles shining and polished. "Ah! "? cried he to himself,
"je suis en Angleterre."(18) The recollection came all at once
at sight of a cleanliness which, in these articles, he says, is
never met with in France.
He did not escape too soon, for his first cousin, the good Duc de
la Rochefoucault, another of the first
rvolutionnaires, was massacred the next month.(19) The
character he has given of this murdered relation is the most
affecting, in praise and virtues, that can possibly be
heard. k Sarah has heard him till she could not keep the tears
from her eyes. They had been lves(20) together, and loved each
other as the tenderest brothers.
MADAME DE GENLIS'S HASTY RETREAT.
You will all be as sorry as I was myself to hear that every ill
story of la Comtesse de Genlis was confirmed by the
duke.
Page 23
She was resident at Bury, when he arrived, with Mlle.
Egalit, Pamela, Henrietta Circe, and several others, who
appeared in various ways, as artists, gentlemen, domestics, and
equals, on various occasions. The history of their way of life
is extraordinary, and not very comprehensible, probably owing to
the many necessary difficulties which the new 'system of equality
produces.(21)
A lady of Bury, a sister of Sir Thomas Gage, had been very much
caught by Madame Brulard,(22) who had almost
lived at the house of Sir Thomas. Upon the arrival of the duke he
was invited to Sir Thomas Gage's immediately; and Miss G, calling
upon Madame Brulard, mentioned him, and
asked if she knew him?--No, she answered; but she had seen him.
This was innocently repeated to the duke, who then, in a
transport of rage, broke out with "Elle M'a vu!(23) and is that
all?--Does she forget that she has spoke to me? that she has
heard me too? " And then he related, that when all was wearing
the menacing aspect of anarchy, before it broke out, and before
he was ordered to his regiment at Rouen, he had desired an
audience of Madame Brulard, for the first
time, having been always a friend of Madame d'Orlans, and
consequently her enemy. She was unwilling to see him, but he
would not be refused. He then told her that France was upon the
point of ruin, and that the Duc d'Orlans, who had been its
destruction, and "the disgrace of the Revolution," could alone
now prevent the impending havoc. He charged her
therefore, forcibly and peremptorily, to take in charge a change
of measures, and left her with an exhortation which he then
flattered himself would have some chance of averting the coming
dangers. But quickly -after she quitted France voluntarily, and
settled in England. "And can she have
forgot all this ?" cried he.
I know not if this was repeated to Madame de Brulard but
certain it is she quitted Bury with the utmost expedition, She
did not even wait to pay her debts, and left the poor Henrietta
Circe behind, as a sort of hostage, to prevent
alarm. The creditors, however, finding her actually gone,
entered the house, and poor Henrietta was terrified into
hysterics. Probably she knew not but they were jacobins, or
would act upon jacobin principles. Madame Brulard then
Page 24
sent for her, and remitted money, and proclaimed her
intention of returning to Suffolk no more.
A NOBLEMAN OF THE ANCIEN RGIEM.
The duke accepted the invitation for to-day, and came early, on
horseback. He had just been able to get over some two or three of
his horses from France. He has since, I hear, been forced to sell
them.
Mrs. Young was not able to appear; Mr. Young came to my room door
to beg I would waste no time; Sarah and I, therefore, proceeded
to the drawing-room. The duke was playing with a favourite
dog-the thing probably the most dear to him in
England; for it was just brought him over by his faithful groom,
whom he had sent back upon business to his son.
He is very tall, and, were his figure less, would be too
fat, but all is in proportion. His face, which is very
handsome, though not critically so, has rather a haughty
expression when left to itself, but becomes soft and
spirited in turn, according to whom he speaks, and has great play
and variety. His deportment is quite
noble, and in a style to announce conscious rank even to the most
sedulous equaliser. His carriage is peculiarly upright, and his
person uncommonly well made. His manners are such as only admit
of comparison with what We have read, not what we have seen; for
he has all the air of a man who would wish to lord over men, but
to cast himself at the feet of women.
He was in mourning for his barbarously murdered cousin the Duc de
la Rochefoucault. His first address was of the
highest style. I shall not attempt to recollect his words, but
they were most elegantly expressive of his satisfaction in a
meeting he had long, he said, desired.
With Sarah he then shook hands. She had been his
interpretess here on his arrival, and he seems to have
conceived a real kindness for her; an honour of which she is
extremely sensible, and with reason.
A little general talk ensued, and he made a point of curing Sarah
of being afraid of his dog. He made no secret of
thinking it affectation, and never rested till he had
conquered it completely. I saw here, in the midst of all that at
first so powerfully struck me of dignity,
importance, and high-breeding, a true French Polisson; for he
called the dog round her, made it jump on her shoulder, and
amused himself as,
Page 25
in England, only a schoolboy or a professed fox-hunter would have
dreamt of doing.
This, however, recovered me to a little ease, which his
compliment had rather overset. Mr. Young hung back, nearly quite
silent. Sarah was quiet when reconciled to the dog, or, rather,
subdued by the duke; and then, when I thought it completely out
of his head, he tranquilly drew a chair next mine, and began a
sort of separate conversation, which he suffered nothing to
interrupt till we were summoned to
dinner.
His subject was 'Cecilia;' and he seemed not to have the
smallest idea I could object to discussing it, any more than if
it had been the work of another person. I answered all his
demands and interrogatories with a degree of openness I have
never answered any other upon this topic; but the least hope of
beguiling the misery of an migr tames me.
Mr. Young listened with amaze, and all his ears, to the many
particulars and elucidations which the duke drew from me; he
repeatedly called out he had heard nothing of them before, and
rejoiced he was at least present when they were
communicated.
This proved, at length, an explanation to the duke himself, that,
the moment he understood, made him draw back, saying, "Peut-tre
que je suis indiscret?"(24) However, he soon
returned to the charge - and when Mr. Young made any more
exclamations, he heeded them not: he smiled, indeed, when Sarah
also affirmed he had procured accounts she had never heard
before; but he has all the air of a man not new to any mark of
more than common favour.
At length we were called to dinner, during which he spoke of
general things.
DUCAL VIVACITY AND SADNESS.
The French of Mr. Young, at table, was very comic ; he never
hesitates for a word, but puts English wherever he is at a loss,
with a mock French pronunciation. "Monsieur Duc," as he calls
him, laughed once or twice, but clapped him on the back, called
him "un brave homme," and gave him instruction as well as
encouragement in all his blunders.
When the servants were gone, the duke asked me if anybody might
write a letter to the king? I fancy he had some per-
Page 26
sonal idea of this kind. I told him yes, but through the hands
of a lord of the bedchamber, or some state officer, or a
minister. He seemed pensive, but said no more.
He inquired, however, if I had not read to the queen and seemed
to wish to understand my office; but here he was far more
circumspect than about 'Cecilia.' He has lived so much in a
Court, that he knew exactly how far he might
inquire with the most scrupulous punctilio.
I found, however, he had imbibed the jacobin notion that our
beloved king was still disordered; for, after some talk upon his
illness, and very grave and proper expressions
concerning the affliction and terror it produced in the
kingdom, he looked at me very fixedly,, and, with an arching
brow, said, "Mais, mademoiselle--aprs tout--le roi--est il bien
guri?"(25)
I gave him such assurances as he could not doubt, from their
simplicity, which resulted from their truth.
Mr. Young would hardly let Sarah and me retreat; however, we
promised to meet soon to coffee. I went away full of concern for
his injuries, and fuller of amazement at the
vivacity with which he bore them.
When at last we met in the drawing-room, I found the duc all
altered. Mr. Young had been forced away by business, and was but
just returned, and he had therefore been left a few
minutes by himself; the effect was visible, and extremely
touching. Recollections and sorrow had retaken possession of his
mind; and his spirit, his vivacity, his power of
rallying were all at an end. He was strolling about the
room with an air the most gloomy, and a face that
looked enveloped in clouds of sadness and
moroseness. There was a fiert almost even fierce in his air and
look, as, wrapped in himself, he continued his walk. I felt now
an increasing compassion:--what must he not suffer when he ceases
to fight with his calamities! Not to disturb him we talked with
one another; but he soon shook himself and joined us; though he
could not bear to sit down, or
stand a moment in a place.
"CETTE COQUINE DE BRULARD."
Sarah spoke of Madame Brulard, and, in a little malice, to draw
him out, said her sister knew her very well. The duc "
Page 27
with eyes of fire at the sound, came up to me: "Comment,
mademoiselle! vous avez connu cette coquine de Brulard?"(26) And
then he asked me what I had thought of her.
I frankly answered that I had thought her charming; gay,
intelligent, well-bred, well-informed, and amiable.
He instantly drew back, as if sorry he had named her so
roughly, and looked at Sally for thus surprising him; but I
immediately continued that I could now no longer think the same
of her, as I could no longer esteem her; but I
confessed my surprise had been inexpressible at her
duplicity.
'He allowed that, some years ago, she might have a better chance
than now of captivation - for the deeper she had
immersed in politics, the more she had forfeited of feminine
attraction. "Ah!" he cried, " with her talents-her
knowledge-her parts-had she been modest, reserved, gentle, what a
blessing might she have proved to her country! but she is devoted
to intrigue and cabal, and proves its curse."
He then spoke with great asperity against all the femmes de
lettres now known; he said they were commonly the most
disgusting of their sex, in France, by their arrogance,
boldness, and mauvais moeurs.
GRACEFUL OFFERS OF HOSPITALITY.
I inquired if Mr. Young had shown him a letter from the Duke of
Grafton, which he had let me read in the morning. It was to
desire Mr. Young would acquaint him if the Duc de
Liancourt was still in Bury, and, if so, to wait upon him, in the
Duke of Grafton's name, to solicit him to make Euston his abode
while in England, and to tell him that he should have his
apartments wholly unmolested, and his time wholly unbroken; that
he was sensible, in such a situation of mind, he must covet much
quiet and freedom from interruption and impertinence; and he
therefore promised that, if he would honour his house with his
residence, it should be upon the same terms as if he were in an
hotel-that he would never
know if he were at home or abroad, or even in town or in the
country - and he hoped the Duc de Liancourt would make no more
scruple of accepting such an asylum and retreat at his house than
he would himself have done of accepting a similar
Page 28
one from the duke in France, if the misfortunes of his own
country had driven him to exile.
I was quite in love with the Duke of Grafton for this
kindness. The Duc de Liancourt bowed to my question, and
seemed much gratified with the invitation; but I see he
cannot brook obligation; he would rather live in a garret, and
call it his own. He told me, however, with an air of
some little pleasure, that he had received just such another
letter from Lord Sheffield. I believe both these noblemen had
been entertained at Liancourt some years ago.
I inquired after Madame la duchesse, and I had the
satisfaction to hear she was safe in Switzerland. The duke told
me she had purchased an estate there.
He inquired very particularly after your juniper colony, and M.
de Narbonne, but said he most wished to meet with M.
d'Arblay, who was a friend and favourite of his eldest son.
THE EMIGRANTS AT JUNIPER HALL DESCRIBED.
[It is hoped that some pages from Mrs. Phillips's
journalizing letters to her sister, written at this period, may
not be unacceptable , since they give particulars
concerning several distinguished actors and sufferers in the
French Revolution, and also contain the earliest description of
M. d'Arblay.(27))
(Mrs. Philips to Fanny Burney.)
Mickleham, November, 1792.
It gratifies me very much that I have been able to interest you
for our amiable and charming neighbours.
Mrs. Locke had been so kind as to pave the way for my
introduction to Madame de la Chtre, and carried me on
Friday to juniper Hall, where we found M. de Montmorency, a
ci-devant duc,(28) and one who gave some of the first great
examples of sacrificing personal interest to what was then
considered the public good. I know not whether you will like him
the better when I tell you that from him proceeded the motion for
the abolition of titles in France; but if you do
Page 29
not, let me, in his excuse, tell you he was scarcely one-and-
twenty when an enthusiastic spirit impelled him to this, I
believe, ill-judged and mischievous act. My
curiosity was greatest to see M. de Jaucourt, because I
remembered many lively and spirited speeches made by him
during the time of the Assemble Lgislalive, and that he
was a warm defender of my favourite hero, M. Lafayette.
Of M. de Narbonne's abilities we could have no doubt from his
speeches and letters whilst ministre de la guerre, which post he
did not quit till last May.(29) By his own desire, he then joined
Lafayette's army, and acted under him; but on the 10th of August,
he was involved, with perhaps nearly all the most honourable and
worthy of the French nobility,
accused as a traitor by the jacobins, and obliged to fly
from his country M. d'Argenson was already returned to
France, and Madame de Broglie had set out the same day,
November 2nd, hoping to escape the decree against the
emigrants.(30)
Madame de la Chtre received us with great politeness. She is
about thirty-three; an elegant figure, not pretty, but with an
animated and expressive countenance; very well
read, pleine d'esprit, and, I think, very lively and
charming.
A gentleman was with her whom Mrs. Locke had not yet seen, M.
d'Arblay. She introduced him, and when he had quitted the room,
told us he was adjutant-general to M. Lafayette,
marchal de camp, and in short the first in military rank of
those who had accompanied that general when he so
unfortunately fell into the hands of the Prussians; but, not
having been one of the Assemble Constituante, he was
allowed, with four others, to proceed into Holland, and
there M. de Narbonne wrote to him. "Et comme il l'aime
infiniment," said Madame de la Chàtre, "il l'a pri de venir
vivre avec lui."(31
He had arrived only two days before. He is tall, and a good
figure, with an open and manly
countenance; about forty, I imagine.
It was past twelve. However, Madame de la Chàtre owned
Page 30
she had not breakfasted--ces messieurs were not yet ready. A
little man, who looked very triste indeed, in an old-
fashioned suit of clothes, with long flaps to a waistcoat
embroidered in silks no longer very brilliant, sat in a
corner of the room. I could not imagine who he was, but when he
spoke was immediately convinced he was no
Frenchman. I afterwards heard he had been engaged by M. de
Narbonne for a year, to teach him and all the party English. He
had had a place in some college in France at the beginning of the
Revolution, but was now driven out and
destitute. His name is Clarke. He speaks English with an accent
tant soit Peu Scotch.
Madame de la Chàtre, with great franchise entered into
details of her situation and embarrassment, whether she
might venture, like Madame de Broglie, to go over to France, in
which case she was dans le cas oû elle pouvoit toucher sa
fortune(32) immediately. She said she could then settle in
England, and settle comfortably. M. de la Chàtre, it
seems, previous to his joining the king's brothers, had
settled upon her her whole fortune. She and all her family were
great favourers of the original Revolution and even at this
moment she declares herself unable to wish the
restoration of the old rgime, with its tyranny and
corruptions--persecuted and ruined as she and thousands more have
been by the unhappy consequences of the Revolution,
M. de Narbonne now came in. He seems forty, rather fat, but
would be handsome were it not for a slight cast of one eye. He
was this morning in great spirits. Poor man! It was the only time
I have ever seen him so. He came up very courteously to me, and
begged leave de me faire Sa Cour(33) at Mickleham, to which I
graciously assented.
Then came M. de jaucourt, whom I instantly knew by Mr.
Locke's description. He is far from handsome, but has a very
intelligent countenance, fine teeth, and expressive eyes. I
scarce heard a word from him, but liked his appearance
exceedingly, and not the less for perceiving his respectful and
affectionate manner of attending to Mr. Locke but when Mr. Locke
reminded us that Madame de la Chàtre had not
breakfasted, we took leave, after spending an hour in a
manners so pleasant and so interesting that it scarcely
appeared ten minutes.
Page 31
MONSIEUR D'ARBLAY.
NOV. 7.- --Phillips was at work in the parlour, and I had just
stepped into the next room for some papers I wanted, when I heard
a man's voice, and presently distinguished
these words: "Je ne parle pas trop bien l'Anglois,
monsieur."(34) I came forth immediately to relieve Phillips, and
then found it was M. d'Arblay.
I received him de bien bon coeur, as courteously as I could. The
adjutant of M. Lafayette, and one of those who proved faithful to
that excellent general, could not but be
interesting to me. I was extremely pleased at ]its coming, and
more and more pleased with himself every moment that passed. He
seems to me a true militaire, franc et loyal--open as the day;
warmly affectionate to his
friends; intelligent, ready, and amusing in conversation, with a
great share of gait de coeur, and, at the same
time, of navet and bonne foi. He was no less flattering to
little Fanny than M. de Narbonne had been.
We went up into the drawing-room with him, and met Willy on the
stairs, and Norbury capered before us. "Ah, madame," cried M.
d'Arblay, "la jolie petite maison que vous avez, et les jolis
petits hôtes!"(35) looking at the
children, the drawings, etc. He took Norbury on his lap and
played with -him. I asked him if he was not proud of being so
kindly noticed by the adjutant-general of M. Lafayette? "Est-ce
qu'il sait le nom de M. Lafayette?"(36) said he,
smiling. I said he was our hero, and that I was thankful to see
at least one of his faithful friends here. I asked if M.
Lafayette was allowed to write and receive letters. He said yes,
but they were always given to him open.
- Norbury now (still seated on his lap) took courage to
whisper him, "Were you, sir, put in prison with M.
Lafayette?" "Oui, mon ami," "And--was it quite dark?" I was
obliged, laughing, to translate this curious question.
M. d'Arblay laughed too: "Non, mon ami," said he, "on nous amis
abord dans une assez jolie chambre."(37)
i lamented the hard fate of M. Lafayette, and the rapid and
wonderful reverse he had met with, after having been, as he
Page 32
well merited to be, the most popular man in France. This led M.
d'Arblay to speak of M. de Narbonne, to whom I found him
passionately attached. Upon my mentioning the sacrifices made by
the French nobility, and by a great number of them voluntarily,
he said no one had made more than M. de Narbonne; that, previous
to the Revolution, he had more wealth and more power than almost
any except the princes of the blood.
For himself, he mentioned his fortune and his income from his
appointments as something immense, but 1 never remember the
number of hundred thousand livres, nor can tell what their amount
is without some consideration. . . .
The next day Madame de la Chtre was so kind as to send me the
French papers, by her son, who made a silent visit of about five
minutes.
M. DE JAUCOURT. MADAME DE STAEL.
Friday morning.-I sent Norbury with the French papers, desiring
him to give them to M. d'Arblay. He stayed a prodigious while,
and at last came back attended by M. de Narbonne, M. de Jaucourt,
and M. d'Arblay. M. de Jaucourt is a delightful man--as comic,
entertaining, unaffected, unpretending, and good-humoured as dear
Mr Twining, only younger, and not quite so black. He is a man
likewise of first-rate abilities--M. de Narbonne says, perhaps
superior to Vaublanc(38) and of very uncommon firmness and
integrity of character.
The account Mr. Batt gave of the National Assembly last summer
agrees perfectly with that of M. de Jaucourt, who had the
misfortune to be one of the deputies, and who, upon some great
occasion in support of the king and constitution, found only
twenty-four members who had courage to support him, though a far
more considerable number gave him secretly their good wishes and
prayers. It was on this that he regarded all hope of justice and
order as lost, and that he gave in sa dmission(39) from the
Assembly. In a few days he was seized, and sans forme de
proces(40) having lost his inviolability as a
Page 33
member, thrown into the prison of the Abbaye, where, had it not
been for the very extraordinary and admirable exertions of Madame
de Stael (M. Necker's daughter, and the Swedish ambassador's
wife), he would infallibly have been massacred.
I must here tell you that this lady, who was at that time seven
months gone with child, was indefatigable in her efforts to save
every one she knew from this dreadful massacre. She walked daily
(for carriages were not allowed to pass in the streets) to the
H6tel de Ville, and was frequently shut up for five hours
together with the horrible wretches that composed the Comit de
Surveillance, by whom these murders were directed; and by her
eloquence, and the consideration demanded by her rank and her
talents, she obtained the deliverance of above twenty unfortunate
prisoners, some of whom she knew but slightly. . . .
Madame de la Chtre and M. de Jaucourt have since told me that M.
de Narbonne and M. d'Arblay had been treated with singular
ingratitude by the king, whom they nevertheless still loved as
well as forgave. They likewise say he wished to get rid of M. de
Narbonne from the ministry, because he could not trust him with
his projects of contre revolution.
M. d'Arblay was the officer on guard at the Tuileries the night
on which the king, etc., escaped to Varennes,(41) and ran great
risk of being denounced, and perhaps massacred, though he had
been kept in the most perfect ignorance of the king's intention.
SEVERE DECREES AGAINST THE EMIGRANTS.
The next Sunday, November 18th, Augusta and Amelia came to me
after church, very much grieved at the inhuman decrees just
passed in the Convention, including as emigrants, with those who
have taken arms against their country, all who have quitted it
since last July; and adjudging their estates to confiscation, and
their persons to death should they return to France.
" Ma'am," said Mr. Clarke, " it reduces this family to nothing :
all they can hope is, by the help of their parents and friends,
to get together wherewithal to purchase a cottage in America, and
live as they can."
Page 34
I was more shocked and affected by this account than I could very
easily tell you. To complete the tragedy, M. de Narbonne had
determined to write an offer--a request rather--to be allowed to
appear as a witness in behalf of the king, upon his trial ; and
M. d'Arblay had declared he would do the same, and share the fate
of his friend, whatever it might be.
MONSIEUR GIRARDIN.
On Tuesday, the 20th, I called to condole with our friends on
these new misfortunes. Madame de la Chtre received me with
politeness, and even cordiality: she told me she was a little
recovered from the first shock--that she should hope to gather
together a small dbris of her fortune, but never enough to
settle in England--that, in short, her parti tait pris(42)--that
she must go to America. It went to my heart to hear her say so.
Presently came in M. Girardin. He is son to the Marquis de
Girardin d'Ermenonville, the friend of Rousseau, whose last days
were passed, and whose remains are deposited, in his domain. This
M. Girardin was a pupil of Rousseau; he was a member of the
Legislative Assembly, and an able opponent of the jacobins.
It was to him that M. Merlin, aprs bien de gestes menaans,(43)
had held a pistol, in the midst of the Assembly. His father was a
mad republican, and never satisfied with the rational spirit of
patriotism that animated M. Girardin; who, witnessing the
distress of all the friends he most esteemed and honoured, and
being himself in personal danger from the enmity of the jacobins,
had, as soon as the Assemble Lgislative broke up, quitted
Paris, I believe, firmly determined never to re-enter it under
the present rgime.
I was prepossessed very much in favour of this gentleman, from
his conduct in the late Assembly and all we had heard of him. I
confess I had not represented him to myself as a great, fat,
heavy-looking man, with the manners of a somewhat hard and morose
Englishman: he is between thirty and forty, I imagine; he had
been riding as far as to the cottage Mr. Malthouse had mentioned
to him--l'asile de jean Jacques(44)--and said it was very near
this place (it is at the foot of Leith Hill, Mr. Locke has since
told me).
They then talked over the newspapers which were come
Page 35
that morning. M. de St. just,(45) who made a most fierce speech
for the trial and condemnation of the king, they said had before
only been known by little madrigals, romances, and heures
tendres, published in the 'Almanac des Muses.' "A cette heure,"
said M. de jaucourt, laughing, "c'est un fier republicain."(46)
THE PHILLIPSES AT JUNIPER HALL.
Nov. 27.-Phillips and I determined at about half-past one to walk
to "junipre" together. M. d'Arblay received us at the door, and
showed the most flattering degree of pleasure at our arrival. We
found with Madame de la Chtre another French gentleman, M.
Sicard, who was also an officer of M. de Lafayette's.
M. de Narbonne said he hoped we would be sociable, and dine with
them now and then. Madame de la Chtre made a speech to the same
effect, "Et quel jour, par exemple," said M. de Narbonne, "feroit
wieux qu'aujourd'hui?"(47) Madame de la Chtre took my hand
instantly, to press in the most pleasing and gratifying manner
imaginable this proposal; and before I had time to answer, M.
d'Arblay, snatching up his hat, declared he would run and fetch
the children.
I was obliged to entreat Phillips to bring him back, and
entreated him to entendre raison.(48) . . . I pleaded their late
hour of dinner, our having no carriage, and my disuse to the
night air at this time of the year; but M. de Narbonne said their
cabriolet (they have no other carriage) should take us home, and
that there was a top to it, and Madame de la Chtre declared she
would cover me well with shawls, etc. . . . M. d'Arblay scampered
off for the little ones, whom all insisted upon having, and
Phillips accompanied him, as it wanted I believe almost four
hours to their dinner time. . . .
Page 36
Then my dress: Oh, it was parfaite, and would give them all the
courage to remain as they were, sans toilette: in short, nothing
was omitted to render us comfortable and at our ease, and I have
seldom passed a more pleasant day--never, I may fairly say, with
such new acquaintance. I was only sorry M. de jaucourt did not
make one of the party.
MYSTERY ATTENDING M. DE NARBONNE'S BIRTH.
Whilst M. d'Arblay and Phillips were gone, Madame de la Chtre
told me they had that morning received M. Necker's "Dfense du
Roi," and if I liked it that M. de Narbonne would read it out to
us.(49) You may conceive my answer. It is a most eloquent
production, and was read by M. de Narbonne with beaucoup d'me.
Towards the end it is excessively touching, and his emotion was
very evident, and would have struck and interested me had I felt
no respect for his character before.
I must now tell you the secret of his birth, which, however, is,
I conceive, no great secret even in London, as Phillips heard it
at Sir Joseph Banks's. Madame Victoire, daughter of Louis XV.,
was in her youth known to be attached to the Comte de Narbonne,
father of our M. de Narbonne. The consequence of this attachment
was such as to oblige her to a temporary retirement, under the
pretence of indisposition during which time la Comtesse de
Narbonne, who was one of her attendants, not only concealed her
own chagrin, but was the means of preserving her husband from a
dangerous situation, and the princess from disgrace. She
declared herself with child, and, in short, arranged all so well
as to seem the mother of her husband's son ; though the truth was
immediately suspected, and rumoured about the Court, and Madame
de la Chtre told me, was known and familiarly spoken of by all
her friends, except in the presence of
Page 37
Narbonne, to whom no one would certainly venture to hint it. His
father is dead, but la Comtesse de Narbonne, his reputed mother,
lives, and is still an attendant on Madame Victoire, at Rome. M.
de Narbonne's wife is likewise with her, and he himself was the
person fixed on by Mesdames to accompany them when they quitted
France for Italy. An infant daughter was left by him at Paris,
who is still there with some of his family, and whom he expressed
an earnest wish to. bring over, though the late decree may
perhaps render his doing so impossible. He has another daughter,
of six years old, who is with her mother at Rome, and whom he
told me the pope had condescended to embrace. He mentioned his
mother once (meaning la Comtesse de Narbonne) with great respect
and affection.
REVOLUTIONARY SOCIETIES IN NORFOLK. DEATH OF MR.
FRANCIS.
(Fanny Burney to Mrs. Philips.)
Aylsham, Norfolk, November 27, '92.
My dearest Susanna's details of the French colony at juniper are
truly interesting. I hope I may gather from them that M. de
Narbonne, at least, has been able to realise some property here.
I wish much to hear that poor Madame de Broglie has been
permitted to join her husband.
Who is this M. Malouet(50) who has the singular courage and
feeling to offer to plead the cause of a fallen monarch in the
midst of his ferocious accusers? And how ventures M. de Chauvelin
to transmit such a proposal? I wish your French neighbours could
give some account of this. I hear that the son for whom the Duc
de Liancourt has been trembling, has been reduced to subscribe to
all jacobin lengths, to save his life, and retain a little
property. What seasons are these for dissolving all delicacy of
internal honour!
I am truly amazed, and half alarmed, to find this county with
little revolution societies, which transmit their notions of
Page 38
things to the larger committee at Norwich, which communicates the
whole to the reformists of London. I am told there is scarce a
village in Norfolk free from these meetings. . . .
My good and brilliant champion in days of old, Mr. Windham, has
never been in Norfolk since I have entered it. He had a call to
Bulstrode, to the installation of the Duke of Portland, just as I
arrived, and he has been engaged there and at Oxford ever since.
I regret missing him at Holkham: I bad no chance of him anywhere
else, as I have been so situated, from the melancholy
circumstances of poor Mr. Francis's illness, that I have been
unable to make acquaintance where he visits.
(Miss Burney's second visit at Aylsham proved a very mournful
one. Soon after her arrival, Mr. Francis, her brother-in-law,
was seized with an apoplectic fit, which terminated in his death;
and Miss Burney remained with her widowed sister, soothing and
assisting her, till the close of the year, when she accompanied
the bereaved family to London.]
DEPARTURE OF MADAME DE LA CHATRE.
(Mrs. Philips to Fanny Burney.)
December 16, '92.
. . .. Everything that is most shocking may, I fear, be expected
for the unfortunate King of France, his queen, and perhaps all
that belong to him. M. d'Arblay said it would indeed scarce have
been possible to hope that M. de Narbonne could have escaped with
life, had the sauf-conduit requested been granted him, for
attending as a witness at the king's trial. . . .
M. de Narbonne had heard nothing new from France, but mentioned,
with great concern, the indiscretion of the king, in having kept
all his letters since the Revolution; that the papers lately
discovered in the Tuileries would bring ruin and death on
hundreds of his friends ; and that almost every one in that
number "s'y trouvoient compliqus"(51) some way or other. A
decree of accusation had been lanc against M. Talleyrand, not
for anything found from himself, but because M. de Laporte, long
since executed, and from whom, of course, no renseignemens or
explanations of any kind could
Page 39
be gained, had written to the king that l'Eveque d'Autun(52) was
well disposed to serve him. Can there be injustice more
flagrant?
M. Talleyrand, it seems, had proposed returning, and hoped to
settle his affairs in France in person, but now he must be
content with life ; and as for his property (save what he may
chance to have in other countries), he must certainly lose all.
Monday, December 17, In the morning, Mr. and Mrs. Locke called,
and with them came Madame de la Chtre, to take leave.
She now told us, perfectly in confidence, that Madame de Broglie
had found a friend in the Mayor of Boulogne, that she was lodged
at his house, and that she could answer for her (Madame de la
Chtre) being received by him as well as she could desire (all
this must be secret, as this good mayor, if accused of harbouring
or befriending des migrs, would no doubt pay for it with his
life). Madame de la Chtre said, all her friends who had
ventured upon writing to her entreated her not to lose the
present moment to return, as, the three months allowed for the
return of those excepted in the decree once past, all hope would
be lost for ever. Madame de Broglie, who is her cousin, was most
excessively urgent to her to lose not an instant in returning,
and had declared there would be no danger. Madame de la Chtre
was put in spirits by this account, and the hope of becoming not
destitute of everything; and I tried to hope without fearing for
her, and, indeed, most sincerely offer up my petitions for her
safety.
Heaven prosper her! Her courage and spirits are wonderful. M. de
Narbonne seemed, however, full of apprehensions for her. M. de
Jaucourt seemed to have better hopes ; he, even he, has now
thoughts of returning, or rather his generosity compels him to
think of it. His father has represented to him that his sister's
fortune must suffer unless he appears in France again - and
although he had resisted every other consideration, on this he
has given way.
ARRIVAL OF M. DE LA CHATRE.
Friday, December 21st, we dined at Norbury Park, and met our
French friends: M. d'Arblay came in to coffee before the other
gentlemen. We had been talking of Madame de la
Page 40
Chattre, and conjecturing conjectures about her sposo: we were
all curious, and all inclined to imagine him old, ugly, proud,
aristocratic, -a kind of ancient and formal courtier ; so we
questioned M. d'Arblay, acknowledging our curiosity, and that we
wished to know, enfin, if M. de la Chtre was "digne d'etre poux
d'une personne si aimable et si charmante que Madame de la
Chtre."(53) He looked very drolly, scarce able to meet our eyes;
but at last, as he is la franchise mme, he answered, "M. de la
Chtre est un bon homme--parfaitement bon homme: au reste, il est
brusque comme un cheval de carrosse."(54)
We were in the midst of our coffee when St. jean came forward to
M. de Narbonne, and said somebody wanted to speak to him. He went
out of the room; in two minutes he returned, followed by a
gentleman in a great-coat, whom we had never seen, and whom he
introduced immediately to Mrs. Locke by the name of M. de la
Chtre. The appearance of M. de la Chtre was something like a
coup de thatre; for, despite our curiosity, I had no idea we
should ever see him, thinking that nothing could detach him from
the service of the French princes.
His abord and behaviour answered extremely well the idea M.
d'Arblay had given us of him, who in the word brusque rather
meant unpolished in manners than harsh in character. He is quite
old enough to be father to Madame de la Chtre, and, had he been
presented to us as such, all our wonder would have been to see so
little elegance in the parent of such a woman.
After the first introduction was over, he turned his back to the
fire, and began sans faon, a most confidential discourse with M.
de Narbonne. They had not met since the beginning of the
Revolution, and, having been of very different parties, it was
curious and pleasant to see them now, in their mutual
misfortunes, meet en bons amis. They rallied each other sur leurs
disgraces very good-humouredly and comically; and though poor M.
de la Chtre had missed his wife by only one day, and his son by
a few hours, nothing seemed to give him de phumeur.(55) He gave
the account of his disastrous journey since he had quitted. the
princes, who are themselves reduced
Page 41
to great distress, and were unable to pay him his arrears: he
said he could not get a sou from France, nor had done for two
years. All the money he had, with his papers and clothes, were
contained in a little box, with which he had embarked in a small
boat--I could not hear whence : but the weather was tempestuous,
and he, with nearly all the passengers, landed, and walked to the
nearest town, leaving his box and two faithful servants (who had
never, he said, quitted him since he had left France) in the
boat: he had scarce been an hour at the auberge (56) when news
was brought that the boat had sunk,
At this, M. de Narbonne threw himself back on his seat,
exclaiming against the hard fate which pursued all ses malheureux
amis!(57) "Mais attendez donc," cried the good humoured M. de la
Chtre, "Je n'ai pas encore fini: on nous a assur que personne
n'a pri et que mme tout ce qu'il y avait sur le bteau a t
sauv!'(58) He said, however, that being now in danger of falling
into the hands of the French, he dared not stop for his box or
servants; but, leaving a note of directions behind him, he
proceeded incognito, and at length got on board a packet-boat for
England, in which though he found several of his countrymen and
old acquaintance, he dared not discover himself till they were en
pleine mer.(59) He went on gaily enough, laughing at ses amis
les constitutionnaires,(60) and M. de Narbonne, with much more
wit, and not less good humour, retorting back his raillery on the
parti de Brunswick.. . .
M. de la Chtre mentioned the quinzaine(61) in which the princes'
army had been paid up, as the most wretched he had ever known. Of
22,000 men who formed the army of the emigrants, 16,000 were
gentlemen,-men of family and fortune: all of whom were now, with
their families, destitute. He mentioned two of these who had
engaged themselves lately in some orchestra, where they played
first and second flute. The princes, he said, had been twice
arrested for debt in different places--that they were now so
reduced that they dined, themselves, the Comte d'Artois,
children, tutors, etc.--eight or nine persons in all--upon one
single dish.
Page 42
ENGLISH FEELING AT THE REVOLUTIONARY EXCESSES.
(Fanny Burney to Mrs. Locke.)
Chelsea, December 20, '92.
..... God keep us all safe and quiet! All now wears a fair
aspect; but I am told Mr. Windham says we are not yet out of the
wood though we see the path through it. There must be no
relaxation. The Pretended friends of the people, pretended or
misguided, wait but the stilling of the present ferment of
loyalty to come forth. Mr. Grey has said so in the House. Mr. Fox
attended the St. George's meeting, after keeping back to the
last, and was nobody there!
The accounts from France are thrilling. Poor M. d'Arblay's speech
should be translated, and read to all English imitators of French
reformers. What a picture of the now reformed! Mr. Burke's
description of the martyred Duc de la Rochefoucault should be
read also by all the few really pure promoters of new systems.
New systems, I fear, in states, are always dangerous, if not
wicked. Grievance by grievance, wrong by wrong, must only be
assailed, and breathing time allowed to old prejudices, and old
habits, between all that is done. . . .
I had fancied the letters brought for the King of France's trial
were forgeries. One of them, certainly, to M. Bouill, had its
answer dated before it was written. If any have been found,
others will be added, to serve any evil purposes. Still, however,
I hope the king and his family will be saved. I cannot but
believe it, from all I can put together. If the worst of the
jacobins hear that Fox has called him an "unfortunate monarch,"-
-that Sheridan has said "his execution would be an act of
injustice,"--and Grey, "that we ought to have spared that one
blast to their glories by earlier negotiation and an
ambassador,"--surely the worst of these wretches will not risk
losing their only abettors and palliators in this kingdom? I mean
publicly; they have privately and individually their abettors and
palliators in abundance still, wonderful as that is.
I am glad M. d'Arblay has joined the set at "Junipre." What
miserable work is this duelling, which I hear of among the
emigrants, after such hair-breadth 'scapes for life and
existence!--to attack one another on the very spot they seek for
refuge from attacks! It seems a sort of profanation of safety.
Page 43
LOUIS XVI.'S EXECUTION.