Verdelin with her daughter, with whom she had been at the baths of
Bourbonne, whence they came to Motiers and stayed with me two or three
days. By her attention and cares, she at length conquered my long
repugnancy; and my heart, won by her endearing manner, made her a return
of all the friendship of which she had long given me proofs. This
journey made me extremely sensible of her kindness: my situation rendered
the consolations of friendship highly necessary to support me under my
sufferings. I was afraid she would be too much affected by the insults
I received from the populace, and could have wished to conceal them from
her that her feelings might not be hurt, but this was impossible; and
although her presence was some check upon the insolent populace in our
walks, she saw enough of their brutality to enable her to judge of what
passed when I was alone. During the short residence she made at Motiers,
I was still attacked in my habitation. One morning her chambermaid found
my window blocked up with stones, which had been thrown at it during the
night. A very heavy bench placed in the street by the side of the house,
and strongly fastened down, was taken up and reared against the door in
such a manner as, had it not been perceived from the window, to have
knocked down the first person who should have opened the door to go out.
Madam de Verdelin was acquainted with everything that passed; for,
besides what she herself was witness to, her confidential servant went
into many houses in the village, spoke to everybody, and was seen in
conversation with Montmollin. She did not, however, seem to pay the
least attention to that which happened to me, nor never mentioned
Montmollin nor any other person, and answered in a few words to what I
said to her of him. Persuaded that a residence in England would be more
agreeable to me than any other, she frequently spoke of Mr. Hume who was
then at Paris, of his friendship for me, and the desire he had of being
of service to me in his own country. It is time I should say something
of Hume.
He had acquired a great reputation in France amongst the Encyclopedists
by his essays on commerce and politics, and in the last place by his
history of the House of Stuart, the only one of his writings of which I
had read a part, in the translation of the Abbe Prevot. For want of
being acquainted with his other works, I was persuaded, according to what
I heard of him, that Mr. Hume joined a very republican mind to the
English Paradoxes in favor of luxury. In this opinion I considered his
whole apology of Charles I. as a prodigy of impartiality, and I had as
great an idea of his virtue as of his genius. The desire of being
acquainted with this great man, and of obtaining his friendship, had
greatly strengthened the inclination I felt to go to England, induced by
the solicitations of Madam de Boufflers, the intimate friend of Hume.
After my arrival in Switzerland, I received from him, by means of this
lady, a letter extremely flattering; in which, to the highest encomiums
on my genius, he subjoined a pressing invitation to induce me to go to
England, and the offer of all his interest, and that of his friends, to
make my residence there agreeable. I found in the country to which I had
retired, the lord marshal, the countryman and friend of Hume, who
confirmed my good opinion of him, and from whom I learned a literary
anecdote, which did him great honor in the opinion of his lordship and
had the same effect in mine. Wallace, who had written against Hume upon
the subject of the population of the ancients, was absent whilst his work
was in the press. Hume took upon himself to examine the proofs, and to
do the needful to the edition. This manner of acting was according to my
way of thinking. I had sold at six sous (three pence) a piece, the
copies of a song written against myself. I was, therefore, strongly
prejudiced in favor of Hume, when Madam de Verdelin came and mentioned
the lively friendship he expressed for me, and his anxiety to do me the
honors of England; such was her expression. She pressed me a good deal
to take advantage of this zeal and to write to him. As I had not
naturally an inclination to England, and did not intend to go there until
the last extremity, I refused to write or make any promise; but I left
her at liberty to do whatever she should think necessary to keep Mr. Hume
favorably disposed towards me. When she went from Motiers, she left me
in the persuasion, by everything she had said to me of that illustrious
man, that he was my friend, and she herself still more his.
After her departure, Montmollin carried on his manoeuvres with more
vigor, and the populace threw off all restraint. Yet I still continued
to walk quietly amidst the hootings of the vulgar; and a taste for
botany, which I had begun to contract with Doctor d'Ivernois, making my
rambling more amusing, I went through the country herbalising, without
being affected by the clamors of this scum of the earth, whose fury was
still augmented by my calmness. What affected me most was, seeing
families of my friends,
[This fatality had begun with my residence at, Yverdon; the banneret
Roguin dying a year or two after my departure from that city, the
old papa Roguin had the candor to inform me with grief, as he said,
that in he papers of his relation, proofs had been found of his
having been concerned in the conspiracy to expel me from Yverdon and
the state of Berne. This clearly proved the conspiracy not to be,
as some people pretended to believe, an affair of hypocrisy since
the banneret, far from being a devotee, carried materialism and
incredulity to intolerance and fanaticism. Besides, nobody at
Yverdon had shown me more constant attention, nor had so prodigally
bestowed upon me praises and flattery as this banneret. He
faithfully followed the favorite plan of my persecutors.]
or of persons who gave themselves that name, openly join the league of my
persecutors; such as the D'Ivernois, without excepting the father and
brother of my Isabel le Boy de la Tour, a relation to the friend in whose
house I lodged, and Madam Girardier, her sister-in-law. This Peter Boy
was such a brute; so stupid, and behaved so uncouthly, that, to prevent
my mind from being disturbed, I took the liberty to ridicule him; and
after the manner of the 'Petit Prophete', I wrote a pamphlet of a few
pages, entitled, 'la Vision de Pierre de la Montagne dit le Voyant,
--[The vision of Peter of the Mountain called the Seer.]--in which I
found means to be diverting enough on the miracles which then served as
the great pretext for my persecution. Du Peyrou had this scrap printed
at Geneva, but its success in the country was but moderate; the
Neuchatelois with all their wit, taste but weakly attic salt or
pleasantry when these are a little refined.
In the midst of decrees and persecutions, the Genevese had distinguished
themselves by setting up a hue and cry with all their might; and my
friend Vernes amongst others, with an heroical generosity, chose that
moment precisely to publish against me letters in which he pretended to
prove I was not a Christian. These letters, written with an air of
self-sufficiency were not the better for it, although it was positively
said the celebrated Bonnet had given them some correction: for this man,
although a materialist, has an intolerant orthodoxy the moment I am in
question. There certainly was nothing in this work which could tempt me
to answer it; but having an opportunity of saying a few words upon it in
my 'Letters from the Mountain', I inserted in them a short note
sufficiently expressive of disdain to render Vernes furious. He filled
Geneva with his furious exclamations, and D'Ivernois wrote me word he had
quite lost his senses. Sometime afterwards appeared an anonymous sheet,
which instead of ink seemed to be written with water of Phelethon. In
this letter I was accused of having exposed my children in the streets,
of taking about with me a soldier's trull, of being worn out with
debaucheries,....., and other fine things of a like nature. It was not
difficult for me to discover the author. My first idea on reading this
libel, was to reduce to its real value everything the world calls fame
and reputation amongst men; seeing thus a man who was never in a brothel
in his life, and whose greatest defect was in being as timid and shy as a
virgin, treated as a frequenter of places of that description; and in
finding myself charged with being......, I, who not only never had the
least taint of such disorder, but, according to the faculty, was so
constructed as to make it almost impossible for me to contract it.
Everything well considered, I thought I could not better refute this
libel than by having it printed in the city in which I longest resided,
and with this intention I sent it to Duchesne to print it as it was with
an advertisement in which I named M. Vernes and a few short notes by way
of eclaircissement. Not satisfied with printing it only, I sent copies
to several persons, and amongst others one copy to the Prince Louis of
Wirtemberg, who had made me polite advances and with whom I was in
correspondence. The prince, Du Peyrou, and others, seemed to have their
doubts about the author of the libel, and blamed me for having named
Vernes upon so slight a foundation. Their remarks produced in me some
scruples, and I wrote to Duchesne to suppress the paper. Guy wrote to me
he had suppressed it: this may or may not be the case; I have been
deceived on so many occasions that there would be nothing extraordinary
in my being so on this, and from the time of which I speak, was so
enveloped in profound darkness that it was impossible for me to come at
any kind of truth.
M. Vernes bore the imputation with a moderation more than astonishing in
a man who was supposed not to have deserved it, and after the fury with
which he was seized on former occasions. He wrote me two or three
letters in very guarded terms, with a view, as it appeared to me,
to endeavor by my answers to discover how far I was certain of his being
the author of the paper, and whether or not I had any proofs against him.
I wrote him two short answers, severe in the sense, but politely
expressed, and with which he was not displeased. To his third letter,
perceiving he wished to form with me a kind of correspondence, I returned
no answer, and he got D'Ivernois to speak to me. Madam Cramer wrote to
Du Peyrou, telling him she was certain the libel was not by Vernes. This
however, did not make me change my opinion. But as it was possible I
might be deceived, and as it is certain that if I were, I owed Vernes an
explicit reparation, I sent him word by D'Ivernois that I would make him
such a one as he should think proper, provided he would name to me the
real author of the libel, or at least prove that he himself was not so.
I went further: feeling that, after all, were he not culpable, I had no
right to call upon him for proofs of any kind, I stated in a memoir of
considerable length, the reasons whence I had inferred my conclusion, and
determined to submit them to the judgment of an arbitrator, against whom
Vernes could not except. But few people would guess the arbitrator of
whom I made choice. I declared at the end of the memoir, that if, after
having examined it, and made such inquiries as should seem necessary, the
council pronounced M. Vernes not to be the author of the libel, from that
moment I should be fully persuaded he was not, and would immediately go
and throw myself at his feet, and ask his pardon until I had obtained it.
I can say with the greatest truth that my ardent zeal for equity, the
uprightness and generosity of my heart, and my confidence in the love of
justice innate in every mind never appeared more fully and perceptible
than in this wise and interesting memoir, in which I took, without
hesitation, my most implacable enemies for arbitrators between a
calumniator and myself. I read to Du Peyrou what I had written: he
advised me to suppress it, and I did so. He wished me to wait for the
proofs Vernes promised, and I am still waiting for them: he thought it
best that I should in the meantime be silent, and I held my tongue, and
shall do so the rest of my life, censured as I am for having brought
against Vernes a heavy imputation, false and unsupportable by proof,
although I am still fully persuaded, nay, as convinced as I am of my
existence, that he is the author of the libel. My memoir is in the hands
of Du Peyrou. Should it ever be published my reasons will be found in
it, and the heart of Jean Jacques, with which my contemporaries would not
be acquainted, will I hope be known.
I have now to proceed to my catastrophe at Motiers, and to my departure
from Val de Travers, after a residence of two years and a half, and an
eight months suffering with unshaken constancy of the most unworthy
treatment. It is impossible for me clearly to recollect the
circumstances of this disagreeable period, but a detail of them will be
found in a publication to that effect by Du Peyrou, of which I shall
hereafter have occasion to speak.
After the departure of Madam de Verdelin the fermentation increased, and,
notwithstanding the reiterated rescripts of the king, the frequent orders
of the council of state, and the cares of the chatelain and magistrates
of the place, the people, seriously considering me as antichrist, and
perceiving all their clamors to be of no effect, seemed at length
determined to proceed to violence; stones were already thrown after me
in the roads, but I was however in general at too great a distance to
receive any harm from them. At last, in the night of the fair of
Motiers, which is in the beginning of September, I was attacked in my
habitation in such a manner as to endanger the lives of everybody in the
house.
At midnight I heard a great noise in the gallery which ran along the back
part of the house. A shower of stones thrown against the window and the
door which opened to the gallery fell into it with so much noise and
violence, that my dog, which usually slept there, and had begun to bark,
ceased from fright, and ran into a corner gnawing and scratching the
planks to endeavor to make his escape. I immediately rose, and was
preparing to go from my chamber into the kitchen, when a stone thrown by
a vigorous arm crossed the latter, after having broken the window, forced
open the door of my chamber, and fell at my feet, so that had I been a
moment sooner upon the floor I should have had the stone against my
stomach. I judged the noise had been made to bring me to the door, and
the stone thrown to receive me as I went out. I ran into the kitchen,
where I found Theresa, who also had risen, and was tremblingly making her
way to me as fast as she could. We placed ourselves against the wall out
of the direction of the window to avoid the stones, and deliberate upon
what was best to be done; for going out to call assistance was the
certain means of getting ourselves knocked on the head. Fortunately the
maid-servant of an old man who lodged under me was waked by the noise,
and got up and ran to call the chatelain, whose house was next to mine.
He jumped from his bed, put on his robe de chambre, and instantly came to
me with the guard, which, on account of the fair, went the round that
night, and was just at hand. The chatelain was so alarmed at the sight
of the effects of what had happened that he turned pale and on seeing the
stones in the gallery, exclaimed, "Good God! here is a quarry!" On
examining below stairs, a door of a little court was found to have been
forced, and there was an appearance of an attempt having been made to get
into the house by the gallery. On inquiring the reason why the guard had
neither prevented nor perceived the disturbance, it came out that the
guards of Motiers had insisted upon doing duty that night, although it
was the turn of those of another village.
The next day the chatelain sent his report to the council of state, which
two days afterwards sent an order to inquire into the affair, to promise
a reward and secrecy to those who should impeach such as were guilty, and
in the meantime to place, at the expense of the king, guards about my
house, and that of the chatelain, which joined to it. The day after the
disturbance, Colonel Pury, the Attorney-General Meuron, the Chatelain
Martinet, the Receiver Guyenet, the Treasurer d'Ivernois and his father,
in a word, every person of consequence in the country, came to see me,
and united their solicitations to persuade me to yield to the storm and
leave, at least for a time, a place in which I could no longer live in
safety nor with honor. I perceived that even the chatelain was
frightened at the fury of the people, and apprehending it might extend to
himself, would be glad to see me depart as soon as possible, that he
might no longer have the trouble of protecting me there, and be able to
quit the parish, which he did after my departure. I therefore yielded to
their solicitations, and this with but little pain, for the hatred of the
people so afflicted my heart that I was no longer able to support it.
I had a choice of places to retire to. After Madam de Verdelin returned
to Paris, she had, in several letters, mentioned a Mr. Walpole, whom she
called my lord, who, having a strong desire to serve me, proposed to me
an asylum at one of his country houses, of the situation of which she
gave me the most agreeable description; entering, relative to lodging and
subsistence, into a detail which proved she and Lord Walpole had held
particular consultations upon the project. My lord marshal had always
advised me to go to England or Scotland, and in case of my determining
upon the latter, offered me there an asylum. But he offered me another
at Potsdam, near to his person, and which tempted me more than all the
rest.
He had just communicated to me what the king had said to him about my
going there, which was a kind of invitation to me from that monarch, and
the Duchess of Saxe-Gotha depended so much upon my taking the journey
that she wrote to me desiring I should go to see her in my way to the
court of Prussia, and stay some time before I proceeded farther; but I
was so attached to Switzerland that I could not resolve to quit it so
long as it was possible for me to live there, and I seized this
opportunity to execute a project of which I had for several months
conceived the idea, and of which I have deferred speaking, that I might
not interrupt my narrative.
This project consisted in going to reside in the island of St. Peter,
an estate belonging to the Hospital of Berne, in the middle of the lake
of Bienne. In a pedestrian pilgrimage I had made the preceding year with
Du Peyrou we had visited this isle, with which I was so much delighted
that I had since that time incessantly thought of the means of making it
my place of residence. The greatest obstacle to my wishes arose from the
property of the island being vested in the people of Berne, who three
years before had driven me from amongst them; and besides the
mortification of returning to live with people who had given me so
unfavorable a reception, I had reason to fear they would leave me no more
at peace in the island than they had done at Yverdon. I had consulted
the lord marshal upon the subject, who thinking as I did, that the people
of Berne would be glad to see me banished to the island, and to keep me
there as a hostage for the works I might be tempted to write, and sounded
their dispositions by means of M. Sturler, his old neighbor at Colombier.
M. Sturler addressed himself to the chiefs of the state, and, according
to their answer assured the marshal the Bernois, sorry for their past
behavior, wished to see me settled in the island of St. Peter, and to
leave me there at peace. As an additional precaution, before I
determined to reside there, I desired the Colonel Chaillet to make new
inquiries. He confirmed what I had already heard, and the receiver of
the island having obtained from his superiors permission to lodge me in
it, I thought I might without danger go to the house, with the tactic
consent of the sovereign and the proprietors; for I could not expect the
people of Berne would openly acknowledge the injustice they had done me,
and thus act contrary to the most inviolable maxim of all sovereigns.
The island of St. Peter, called at Neuchatel the island of La Motte, in
the middle of the lake of Bienne, is half a league in, circumference; but
in this little space all the chief productions necessary to subsistence
are found. The island has fields, meadows, orchards, woods, and
vineyards, and all these, favored by variegated and mountainous
situations, form a distribution of the more agreeable, as the parts, not
being discovered all at once, are seen successively to advantage, and
make the island appear greater than it really is. A very elevated
terrace forms the western part of it, and commands Gleresse and
Neuverville. This terrace is planted with trees which form a long alley,
interrupted in the middle by a great saloon, in which, during the
vintage, the people from the neighboring shores assemble and divert
themselves. There is but one house in the whole island, but that is very
spacious and convenient, inhabited by the receiver, and situated in a
hollow by which it is sheltered from the winds.
Five or six hundred paces to the south of the island of St. Peter is
another island, considerably less than the former, wild and uncultivated,
which appears to have been detached from the greater island by storms:
its gravelly soil produces nothing but willows and persicaria, but there
is in it a high hill well covered with greensward and very pleasant. The
form of the lake is an almost regular oval. The banks, less rich than
those of the lake of Geneva and Neuchatel, form a beautiful decoration,
especially towards the western part, which is well peopled, and edged
with vineyards at the foot, of a chain of mountains, something like those
of Cote-Rotie, but which produce not such excellent wine. The bailiwick
of St. John, Neuveville, Berne, and Bienne, lie in a line from the south
to the north, to the extremity of the lake, the whole interspersed with
very agreeable villages.
Such was the asylum I had prepared for myself, and to which I was
determined to retire alter quitting Val de Travers.
[It may perhaps be necessary to remark that I left there an enemy in
M. du Teneaux, mayor of Verrieres, not much esteemed in the country,
but who has a brother, said to be an honest man, in the office of M.
de St. Florentin. The mayor had been to see him sometime before my
adventure. Little remarks of this kind, though of no consequence,
in themselves, may lead to the discovery of many underhand
dealings.]
This choice was so agreeable to my peaceful inclinations, and my solitary
and indolent disposition, that I consider it as one of the pleasing
reveries of which I became the most passionately fond. I thought I
should in that island be more separated from men, more sheltered from
their outrages, and sooner forgotten by mankind: in a word, more
abandoned to the delightful pleasures of the inaction of a contemplative
life. I could have wished to have been confined in it in such a manner
as to have had no intercourse with mortals, and I certainly took every
measure I could imagine to relieve me from the necessity of troubling my
head about them.