The archbishop respectfully saluted the king; then, turning to the major-domo, he said in the purest French, with a faultless accent—
"I thank you, general!"
In the precarious state of unsettlement through which Spain was then passing, General Hugo felt it to be out of the question, when he left Naples, to bring his family with him. So Madame Hugo, Abel, Eugène and Victor returned to France. Directly Madame Hugo returned to Paris, she took an old convent that had belonged to the Feuillantines; for, during the two years spent in the palace of Avellino, she had learnt to appreciate the effect on the health of her children of an airy residence, where they had room to run wild and play at liberty. We shall see, later, in connection with this convent, what recollections its large garden, its glorious sunshine and its cool shade left on the mind of the poet. Here the three children were allowed full liberty, as I had been allowed in the great park of Saint-Remy whose splendours I have described. Here Hugo managed to avoid going through the university treadmill, and learnt his Latin fairly well and his Greek scarcely at all, thanks to the care of a married priest, an ex-Oratorian, named Larivière.
"Il savait le latin très-bien, très-mal le grec!" his pupil said of him, in a scrap of verse yet unpublished.
Madame Hugo dwelt in this retreat, which sheltered her fine brood, from 1808 until 1811. In the early part of 1811 she received a letter from her husband. The government of King Joseph seemed settled, and therefore it became necessary to go to Madrid, where her three children could be attached to the court as pages.
[CHAPTER VII]
Departure for Spain—Journey from Paris to Bayonne—The treasure—Order of march of the convoy—M. du Saillant—M. de Cotadilla—Irun—Ernani—Salinas—The battalion of écloppés (cripples)—Madame Hugo's supplies of provisions—The forty Dutch grenadiers—Mondragon—The precipice—Burgos—Celadas—Alerte—The queen's review