Having obtained the Tancred scholarship, Alexander d’Arblay commenced residence at Christ’s College, Cambridge, in October, 1813. He eventually graduated as tenth Wrangler, and became Fellow of his college. ‘But,’ says Macaulay, who had mixed with his fellow-students, ‘his reputation at the University was higher than might be inferred from his success in academical contests. His French education had not fitted him for the examinations of the Senate House;[[124]] but in pure mathematics we have been assured by some of his competitors that he had very few equals.’
‘The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties’ appeared in the beginning of 1814. Notwithstanding the falling-off which had been observed in ‘Camilla,’ the whole edition of the new work was bespoken before it was published. In six months, 3,600 copies were sold at two guineas a copy. But it may be doubted whether the most conscientious reader persevered to the end of the fifth volume. Ten years of exile had destroyed all trace of the qualities which made ‘Evelina’ popular.
Dr. Burney lived to his eighty-eighth birthday, and died at Chelsea on the 12th of April, 1814, in the presence of his recovered daughter, who had tended his last hours. A tablet to his memory, bearing an inscription from her pen, was placed in Westminster Abbey.
A few days after his death, Madame d’Arblay was presented to Louis XVIII. By desire of Queen Charlotte, she attended a reception held by the restored King in London on the day preceding his departure for France. Her sovereign—for it must be remembered that she was now a French subject—paid her the most courteous attention. Addressing her ‘in very pretty English,’ he told her that he had known her long, for he had been charmed with her books, and ‘read them very often.’ He bade her farewell in French, with the words ‘Bonjour, Madame la Comtesse.’
M. d’Arblay had no further reason to complain of Bourbon ingratitude. Within a few weeks he received a commission in the King’s Corps de Gardes, and soon afterwards he was restored to his former rank of Maréchal de Camp. He obtained leave of absence towards the close of the year, and came to England for a few weeks; after which Madame d’Arblay returned with him to Paris, leaving their son to pursue his studies at Cambridge.
In the early weeks of 1815, Madame d’Arblay was admitted to an audience of the Duchesse d’Angoulême, the King’s niece; close on which followed the return of Bonaparte from Elba, and the Hundred Days. Neither the General nor his wife seems to have felt any alarm till the Corsican reached Lyons. Then a passport was obtained for Madame, that she might be able to leave France in case of need, while her husband remained fixed to his post in the capital. In the night between the 19th and 20th of March, after the King had left Paris, and not many hours before Napoleon entered it, Madame d’Arblay took her departure, accompanied by the Princesse d’Hénin. After many difficulties and misadventures, the fugitives reached Brussels. In that city Madame d’Arblay was presently joined by her husband, who had followed Louis XVIII. to Ghent with the rest of the royal bodyguard. She remained in Brussels till the close of the campaign, and for some weeks longer. At a later date she wrote from memory a narrative of what befell her during this period. It includes a description of the scenes that occurred in the Belgian capital while the armies were facing each other within cannon-sound of its streets. The account is graphic, though too diffuse to be quoted at length; evidently it furnished Thackeray with much of the material for the famous chapters in ‘Vanity Fair.’ We give some abridged extracts:
“What a day of confusion and alarm did we all spend on the 17th!... That day, and June 18th, I passed in hearing the cannon! Good Heaven! what indescribable horror to be so near the field of slaughter! such I call it, for the preparation to the ear by the tremendous sound was soon followed by its fullest effect, in the view of the wounded.... And hardly more afflicting was this disabled return from the battle, than the sight of the continually pouring forth victims that marched past my windows to meet similar destruction....
“Accounts from the field of battle arrived hourly; sometimes directly from the Duke of Wellington to Lady Charlotte Greville, and to some other ladies who had near relations in the combat, and which, by their means, were circulated in Brussels; and in other times from such as conveyed those amongst the wounded Belgians, whose misfortunes were inflicted near enough to the skirts of the spots of action, to allow of their being dragged away by their hovering countrymen to the city....
“During this period, I spent my whole time in seeking intelligence....
“Ten times, at least, I crossed over to Madame d’Hénin, discussing plans and probabilities, and interchanging hopes and fears....