Regarding the general attitude of England to France, Barante writes as follows: "From a political point of view, I think there is a real desire to live upon good terms with us, and the manifestations of our Chambers and our newspapers have aroused regret and uneasiness. Every one knows that these were caused by ill-temper, and not by any desire for war; but if these demonstrations and opinions should continue to increase, it is impossible to foresee the result."
Rochecotte, June 16, 1842.—M. and Madame de La Rochejaquelein, my neighbours from Ussé,[ [66] came to spend part of the day here yesterday. She has been very pretty and pleasant, and retains both of these qualities. Her husband is a kind of wild huntsman from the Vendée who has been wounded in the handsomest possible fashion; the scar crosses the whole of his face, but does not disfigure it.
Rochecotte, June 17, 1842.—When I came home after returning Madame de La Rochejaquelein's call, I found a letter from Pauline. After reading it I resolved to start at once to help the poor child. As it is a toilsome journey, difficult and almost dangerous through the mountains, and as I shall probably be obliged to travel on horseback for the last day, while the presence of a man may be useful to Pauline, I resolved to accept the offer of the good Vestier, who knows the country, and who is devoted to the Castellanes. They are also fond of him, and he will accompany me. He will sit on the box with Jacques, and his presence will be a great support. I shall go through without stopping; I am leaving all my servants here, and the house will go on as if I were not absent. It is a hard trial. God is great. Let us bow the head and adore, and remember that happiness is not to be found in this world.
Aubijou, June 22, 1842.—I left Rochecotte on the 18th in the morning. As I took no luggage in my carriage, had four horses on level ground, six in the mountains, and was preceded by a courier, I did not stop, and arrived here in forty-eight hours, which is wonderfully rapid travelling. I found my son-in-law terribly changed. The condition of his thigh, which was the primary cause of his illness, has improved, and gives no cause for alarm, but the nervous shock which it has produced causes me great anxiety. He is better, but by no means convalescent yet. I shall not return home until he reaches that stage, and as soon as he can be moved he will go to take the waters at Néris. Pauline is not ill, but she is growing very tired by reason of constant agitation and anxiety; she has shown great devotion. The presence of Vestier, who was a real support to me in these wild districts, greatly pleases my son-in-law. I thank Providence that he was so kind as to think of coming with me, for he is by far the most acceptable visitor to the invalid.
The roads here are frightful; the country for the last three leagues is not picturesque, but bare, dismal, and wild; the climate is disagreeable, and the temporary house in which we are encamped amid disorder is disgusting, especially for an invalid. It is a wooden house, swarming with fleas and mice; neither windows nor doors will shut, so that draughts have full play, and the noise is horrible. We are six leagues from a chemist's shop, and there is nothing to be had; I am horrified that they should think of building in such a country. Everything has to be made, even the level space of ground upon which to build the house. It will not be finished for years, but the Castellanes hope they may be able to live in a quarter of it next year!
Aubijou, June 23, 1842.—My son-in-law is much easier. The weather is abominable, and yesterday it thundered and rained in torrents the whole day; it is a horrible country, and I am not over-estimating its deficiencies, and am quite in despair at the idea of building a house here. It is quite possible to live here for nothing if people will live as the natives do, but any attempt to introduce civilisation is very expensive, and I fear my son-in-law will regret his attempt to take root here, for reasons both of health and money. No one could be more reasonable or gentle than Pauline, or show greater resignation and devotion; her conduct is admirable throughout this illness and the infinite number of troubles and vexations it involves; during all these she has shown both spirit and good sense, and is generally held in the highest esteem. All their servants are quite devoted to them. Here we are half enveloped in the clouds; the inhabitants are very uncivilised; in September they bake a six months' supply of bread; in October they shut themselves up with their cattle and intercommunication ceases; they then remain buried in the snow, which sometimes does not melt even in the month of May. Some parts of Auvergne are very picturesque, but not on this side; the mountains are too round and their summits too flat and bare; there is no fine expanse of water, and the whole outlook is most monotonous. The ruins of the old castle of Aubijou alone give a little character to the countryside; these have been wisely covered with climbing plants. My son-in-law is also planting on a large scale to improve the surroundings of the house and the view from the windows, but it will be a long time before his plantations grow; meanwhile the general aspect is dismal and I think the climate is very trying.
Aubijou, June 24, 1842.—My son-in-law had refused every proposal to move him, but after a very restless night he suddenly declared that he would stay here no longer. We immediately fell in with his desire for flight, ordered horses and packed our things, but we cannot start until to-morrow. Henri will travel lying down, and by very short stages. The doctors declare that to stay here would be the worst possible thing for him, and of this I am firmly convinced. It is a most fatal spot in which to be ill. He will rest for a few days at Clermont and then go to take the waters at Néris which have been prescribed, and are, I think, the best in the world for nervous rheumatism. I shall travel for some distance in company with them to see how he bears the journey, and will then go in advance of them. I shall turn aside at Néris to find them a good lodging, and then proceed to Rochecotte, where I shall be very glad to return, for I am dreadfully tired and I feel that if I were to stay longer here I should fall ill. My poor daughter is worn out; at any rate, both at Clermont and Néris she will be in a civilised country, within reach of help and away from the terrible loneliness in which she lives here.
To please my son-in-law I made a long and curious excursion yesterday in the valley overlooked by his new buildings. I found some fine pieces of water and splendid trees, but there is no means of approach and paths must be cut with an axe.
Longueplaine, near Tours, June 29, 1842. At the house of M. de la Besnardière.—We left Aubijou on the morning of the 25th. It was not an easy journey. My son-in-law was laid upon a mattress in their large travelling carriage, which is fortunately very roomy. Then came the question of leaving the mountains. Apart from the carriage of the Castellanes, which contained them with their doctor, their chambermaid, their child, and two lacqueys on the box, there was my carriage, with myself, a chambermaid, M. Vestier, and Jacques on the box; then came a little tilbury, drawn by Corsican horses, in which were the cook and an Auvergne jockey. On horseback was the estate agent, a keeper, and a negro, whom my son-in-law had brought back from the south and who is called Zéphir, blowing a horn. It was a strange spectacle, and resembled a scene from the Roman comique. The road, however, was by no means cheerful, with its rocks, its precipices, and its dangers, but by going gently and holding in the carriages, we came through without mishap. I will admit, to my shame, that I so far yielded to my fears as to leave my large carriage and take the cook's place in the tilbury, which proceeded with less danger, as it was lighter and narrower. Night came upon us before we had left the region of precipices, and my cowardice was then displayed in the most disgraceful manner and I wept. The Castellanes spent the night at Massiac. I left them there, feeling content with the effect of the open air upon Henri's nerves. I proceeded in advance, and reached Clermont on the morning of the 26th. I saw the doctor who had already been called in to Henri, and gave him an account of the invalid's progress. After announcing that he would arrive the same evening, I went a few leagues further from the town and visited Randan. I was very curious to see it, and I also knew that my visit would be a compliment to Madame Adélaïde. I admit that I was greatly undeceived: only three things justify the reputation of the place—the view, which is admirable, the fine old trees, and the kitchens and out-buildings, which, are, indeed, too handsome and entirely out of proportion to the rest of the establishment, which lacks distinction. A very poor avenue of poplar-trees, crossing a wretched village, leads to a paling of painted wood; through a gate one enters a kind of quincunx, at the end of which another turn leads to the narrow courtyards of the château. The entrance is very poor, though it would have been easy to cut a great avenue through the woods leading straight to the château. The château itself is built partly of brick, with painted roofs, and partly of white stone abutting upon the old part of the building, and forming a dreadful contrast of styles. The rooms are low, the decorations heavy and mean, the furniture without style or harmony, neither simple nor magnificent, and the apotheosis of bad taste. The hall and the ante-chamber are extremely narrow and inconvenient; there are no artistic objects, the sculptures are plaster and the paintings, which chiefly consist of family portraits, are bad copies. In the salon, which is called the family room because the whole of the present generation are there gathered, I was glad to see the portrait of Madame de Genlis. Madame Adélaïde's room is very small and, in my opinion, very ugly. The corridors on the first floor are dark, narrow, and inconvenient. The library is in the principal reception-room, where there is also a billiard-table; I do not think there were more than a thousand volumes. A wide terrace, which covers the kitchens, leads from the castle to the chapel. The terrace, which is well-adorned with flowers, is a fine point of view, but an iron trellis-work, which covers half of it, is so narrow and low that it is quite spoilt. The chapel is large, but in no particular style, and the decorations within are ugly. There are some very poor modern windows, a confessional-box, painted and coloured like a screen, holy water stoups of gilded cardboard, and, I repeat, a general want of dignity, gracefulness, and taste. The dining-room is the best preserved apartment; it is vaulted and painted with frescoes in extremely varied colours, and is too low. Some people praise it highly, but it is not to my taste.
I returned to Clermont at the moment when the Castellanes were arriving at the town and my son-in-law had borne the journey well. The doctor said he would be able to start for Néris at the end of twenty-four hours. I left them on the 27th, satisfied with the positive assurance that the doctor gave me, that there was no danger, though convalescence would be a slow and painful process. I went to Néris to engage rooms for them, a necessary precaution as there were many people in residence, and I had some trouble in finding a suitable house. The doctor at Néris whom I had known for a long time, is an excellent and careful man and I gave him full information concerning the case. I only stayed at Néris for dinner and to select rooms for the Castellanes, and after spending the night in my carriage I arrived here yesterday evening at the house of M. de la Besnardière. It has involved a detour of only two leagues and allowed me to pay a long-standing debt. They were considerably vexed that I had not paid them this visit earlier. The house is pretty, clean, convenient and almost fashionable, and full of little comforts which aroused my astonishment. It was the sight of Rochecotte which induced him to put this house in repair and for this purpose he employed Vestier, whose efforts were very successful. I shall lunch here, call at the Prefecture of Tours and reach my own house in time for dinner. I greatly need rest.