* Saepe mihi dubiam traxitisententia mentem,
Curarent Superi terras, an nullus inesset
Rector, et incerto fluerent mortalia casu.
Abstulit hunc tandem Rufini poena tumultum,
Absolvitque Deos. Jam non ad culmina rerum
Injustos crevisse queror; tolluntur in altum
Ut lapsu graviore raent.
The next day, Saturday the 23rd of May, 1812, at two o'clock in the afternoon, I got into my carriage, saying that I should return to dinner. I took no packet whatever with me; I had my fan in my hand, and my daughter hers; only my son and Mr. Rocca carried in their pockets what was necessary for some days journey. In descending the avenue of Coppet, in thus quitting that chateau which had become to me like an old and valued friend, I was ready to faint: my son took my hand, and said, "My dear mother, think that you are setting out for England*." That word revived my spirits: I was still, however, at nearly two thousand leagues distance from that goal, to which the usual road would have so speedily conducted me: but every step brought me at least something nearer to it. When I had proceeded a few leagues, I sent back one of my servants to apprize my establishment that I should not return until the next day, and I continued travelling night and day as far as a farmhouse beyond Berne, where I had fixed to meet Mr. Schlegel, who was so good as to offer to accompany me; there also I had to leave my eldest son, who had been educated, up to the age of fourteen, by the example of my father, whose features he reminds one of. A second time all my courage abandoned me; that Switzerland, still so tranquil and always so beautiful, her inhabitants, who know how to be free by their virtues, even though they have lost their political independence: the whole country detained me: it seemed to tell me not to quit it. It was still time to return: I had not yet made an irreparable step. Although the prefect had thought proper to interdict me from travelling in Switzerland, I saw clearly that it was only from the fear of my going beyond it. Finally, I had not yet crossed the barrier which left me no possibility of returning; the imagination feels a difficulty in supporting this idea. On the other hand, there was also something irreparable in the resolution of remaining; for after that moment, I felt, and the event has proved the feeling correct, that I could no longer escape. Besides, there is an indescribable sort of shame in recommencing such solemn farewells, and one can scarcely resuscitate for one's friends more than once. I know not what would have become of me, if this uncertainty, even at the very moment of action, had lasted much longer; for my head was quite confused with it. My children decided me, and especially my daughter, then scarcely fourteen years old. I committed myself, in a manner, to her, as if the voice of God had made itself be heard by the mouth of a child*.
* England was then the hope of all who suffered for the cause of liberty; how comes it, that after the victory, her ministers have so cruelly deceived the expectation of Europe? (Note by the Editor.)
My son took his leave, and after he was out of my sight, I could say, like Lord Russel: the bitterness of death is past. I got into my carriage with my daughter: uncertainty once terminated, I collected all my strength within myself, and I found sufficient of that for action which had altogether failed me for deliberation.
Note by the Editor: * It was but a trifle to have succeeded in quitting Coppet, by deceiving* the vigilance of the prefect of Geneva; it was also necessary to obtain passports for the purpose of going through Austria, and that these passports should be under a name which would attract no attention from the different polices which then divided Germany. My mother entrusted me with this commission, and the emotion which I experienced from it will never cease to be present to my thoughts. It was undoubtedly a decisive step; if the passports were refused, my mother sunk again into a much more cruel situation; her plans were known; flight was thenceforward become impracticable, and the rigors of her exile would have every day been more intolerable. I thought I could not do better than to address myself directly to the Austrian minister, with that confidence in the feelings of his equals which is the first movement of every honest man. M. de Schraut made no hesitation in granting me the so much desired passports, and I hope he will allow me to express in this place the gratitude which I still retain to him for them. At a period when Europe was still bending under the yoke of Napoleon, during which the persecution directed against my mother estranged from her persons who probably owed to her courageous friendship the preservation of their fortunes, or their lives, I was not surprised, but I was most sensibly affected by the generous proceeding of the Austrian minister.
I left my mother to return to Coppet, to which the interests of her fortune recalled me; and some days afterwards, my brother, of whom a cruel death has deprived us almost at the moment of entrance into his career set off to rejoin my mother at Vienna with her servants and travelling carriage. It was only this second departure which gave the hint to the police of the prefect of the Leman: so true it is, that to the other qualities of espionnage we must still add stupidity. Fortunately my mother was already far beyond the reach of the gendarmes, and she could continue the journey of which the narrative follows. (En of Note by the Editor).
CHAPTER 6.
Passage through Austria;—1812.
In this manner, after ten years of continually increasing persecutions, first sent away from Paris, then banished into Switzerland, afterwards confined to my own chateau, and at last condemned to the dreadful punishment of never seeing my friends, and of being the cause of their banishment: in this manner was I obliged to quit, as a fugitive, two countries, France and Switzerland, by order of a man less French than myself: for I was born on the borders of that Seine where his tyranny alone naturalizes him. The air of this fine country is not a native air to him: can he then comprehend the pain of being banished from it, he who considers this fertile country only as the instrument of his victories? Where is his country? it is the earth which is subject to him. His fellow citizens? they are the slaves who obey his orders. He complained one day of not having had under his command, like Tamerlane, nations to whom reasoning was unknown. I imagine that by this time he is satisfied with Europeans: their manners, like their armies, now bear a sufficient resemblance to those of Tartars.