The patience of the Duchess of Orléans, which had for many years been so extraordinary, and her blindness, which had been the wonder of everybody, had for more than a year been worn out, and now had come to a decided conclusion.
There is such a thing as being too angelic, and gentle, and unsuspicious. If those who have to live in the world go about acting as if other people were angels instead of men and women, believing all they are told, trusting every one, and knowing as little as they can of what is going on around them, no good ever comes of it.
How the Duchess could ever consent to and approve of her children being entirely given up to the care of a woman whose principles were absolutely opposed to her own, is astonishing indeed; and perhaps it is still more so that for many years she did notice the infatuation of her husband, and the vast influence Mme. de Genlis had over him. But her eyes had at last been opened, Mme. de Genlis declares, by a Mme. de Chastellux, who was her enemy, and was jealous of her. However that might be with regard to the connection between Mme. de Genlis and the Duc d’Orléans, no enlightenment was necessary about the Bastille, the Cordeliers Club, and other revolutionary proceedings. That was surely quite enough; besides which the Duchess had long been awakened to the fact that the governess about whom she had been so infatuated had not only carried on an intrigue with and established an all-powerful influence over her husband, but had extended that influence also over her children to such an extent that her daughter at any rate, if not her two elder sons, probably preferred her to their mother.
As to the Comte de Beaujolais, he was fond of her, as all her pupils were, for she was extremely kind to them, but he hated and abhorred the principles which his father and she had succeeded in instilling into his brothers and sister, longed to fight for the King and Queen, and took the first opportunity when he met the Comte de Provence in exile to tell him so and make his submission; he had sent him messages of explanation and loyalty directly he could. For more than a year, then, there had been coldness and estrangement between the Duchess and Mme. de Genlis, who, of course, as usual, posed as an injured saint. What had she done? Why this cruel change in the affection and confidence of years? Had she not sacrificed herself to her pupils? Was she not the last person to alienate their affection from their illustrious and admirable mother? Did not all the virtues of her whole life forbid her being suspected or distrusted in any way?
She wrote pages and pages to the Duchess, who would not answer the letters except by a few short lines, and refused to enter into the matter at all, but declined to receive Mme. de Genlis at the Palais Royal to dine as usual. Here is an example of what the Duchesse d’Abrantès and others have said about Mme. de Genlis having nothing of the dignity that she might have been expected to possess. Her behaviour contrasts strongly with that of the Duchesse d’Orléans, who, however foolish and credulous she may have been, showed at any rate that she was a Princess of France. It was not for her to discuss or dispute with Mme. de Genlis about her influence with her husband and children; it was for her to give orders and for the governess of her children to obey them. But these late proceedings were different and tangible, and Mme. de Genlis herself owns in her “Mémoires,” written long after, that the objections of the Duchess, which she then thought so exaggerated and unjust, were right and well-founded. She declares that she had no idea how far the Revolution would go, that she was strongly attached to the Monarchy and to religion, which latter was certainly true, and there is no reason to suppose she contemplated a Republic, while the horrors that took place were odious to her.
But that she should have been and still be accused, especially with regard to the Duke of Orléans, she had no right to complain. After all, those who wish to play the world’s game must play by the world’s rules. Certain ways of acting always cause certain conclusions to be drawn, and what else was likely between a man like Philippe-Égalité and a fascinating woman he admired, and with whom he was thrown into constant and intimate association, but the liaison every one might expect, and which it is impossible not to believe in.
She declared that she would have resigned before had it not been for the calumnies, injustice, and persecution (!) carried on against the Duc d’Orléans; she hoped his return would dispel the clouds; she pictured the grief her pupils would feel, &c., &c.
The Duke was at his wits’ end, there were scenes and interviews and negotiations without end, but he and Mme. de Genlis were forced to give way.
The Duchess threatened a separation, the position was impossible; Mme. de Genlis withdrew, at any rate for a time, intending to go to England. But Mademoiselle d’Orléans, who was then thirteen, and devoted to her governess, when she found she was gone, cried and fretted till she became so ill that every one was alarmed; she was sent for to come back again, and did so on condition that they should go to England together as soon as it could be arranged.
She was herself most anxious to get out of France, but in spite of her representations the journey kept being put off on various excuses until the autumn, when one day M. de Valence, who had also a post in the Palais Royal, told her that the Duke was going to England that night, which he did, leaving her a note saying he would be back in a month.