During a rapid descent, edged on one side by rocks and on the other by a precipice, the horse ran away. It was night; after a violent shock, M. de Ménars and M. de Bonnechose suddenly saw a voluminous object fall from the hood of the carriage. Both believed it was Madame la duchesse de Berry, who had been shot out of the carriage by the shaking: the object having human form lay motionless on the road; if it was the princess, she was either killed or grievously wounded. Unfortunately, there was no means of stopping the carriage; it continued its rapid descent for nearly a kilometre. At last the iron step, which had been forced out of place, came in contact with the roadway and made a kind of brake; M. de Bonnechose, young and light, jumped to the ground and sprang clear of the carriage; he found Madame very calm, with no other anxiety but that the wind had carried her mantle away. The carriage was badly damaged. They walked on foot to a blacksmith's forge, where the necessary repairs were made. The same day, the princess was received into the family of M. de B——l.
There it was she had fixed the first rendezvous, and all whom she had called to it were present; they urged that Madame should not go too far, but, on the contrary, retrace her steps and leave France. The princess replied with decision—
"If I left France without going to la Vendée what would the brave people of the West say, who have given so many proofs of devotion to the royal cause? They would never forgive me, and I should deserve the reproaches they have many times made to my relatives, even more than they deserve it![2] As I promised them, four years ago, to come amongst them in case of misfortune, and as I am already in France, I will not go out of it without keeping my promise.... We will start to-night; prepare for my departure."
The duchesse's friends renewed their entreaties; they enumerated the dangers she had run; but an argument of that nature was more likely to incite than to hinder.
"God and St. Anne will help me!" she said; "I have had a good night, and I am rested; I wish to start to-night."
The order given, there was nothing else to be done but to obey it.
M. de B——l made preparations for this departure in the greatest secrecy. He procured a travelling carriage from the next village, which, on the following night, was to wait at a given hour and place; unluckily, it only had three seats in it. Madame chose to accompany M. de Ménars and M. de Villeneuve, a relative of the Marquis de B——l, and they set out the same evening.
M. de Villeneuve, known and respected throughout the South, was bearer of a passport for himself, his wife and one servant. M. de Lorge solicited the humble title of valet-de-chambre, and, at the hour for departure, came to offer his services to Madame in a suit of livery. It reminds one of Charles Edward at Culloden, and of Louis XVI. at Varennes. Madame held out her hand so that those who could not accompany her could salute it, assigned a rendezvous in the West, and left for la Vendée, where we shall follow her.