Mons was full of soldiers, they could only get bad rooms in the inn, and in the night Mademoiselle d’Orléans, who slept in Mme. de Genlis’s room, did nothing but cough and moan. Going into the adjoining room to tell her niece, Mme. de Genlis found her in the same state; the girls had both got measles.
Here was a terrible position. They had no maid, the manservant was a new one, the servants of the inn could do nothing to help as the inn was crowded; they could not get a doctor till the evening, or a nurse for four days. Mme. de Genlis, however, understood perfectly well how to treat them, and nursed them till they recovered.
One day, as she was going to fetch the medicine from the doctor, who luckily lived close by, she met upon the stairs the Prince de Lambese. Recognising her at once, he looked at her with an indignant, contemptuous expression, passed on without speaking and went to the Governor, Baron von Mack, to denounce her, guessing also that the daughter of Philippe-Égalité was with her.
The Prince de Lambese had every reason to abhor Mme. de Genlis. He belonged to the house of Lorraine, was related to Marie Antoinette, and devoted to her. It was he, who, in July, 1789, at the head of the Royal Allemand Regiment, cleared the mob out of the place Louis XV., and galloped with his troops into the Tuileries Gardens. He emigrated and entered the Austrian service.
In Mme. de Genlis he recognised the woman who was supposed to have been concerned in the infamous libels against the Queen; and who, with the wretched Égalité and his children, was seen watching from the Palais Royal the procession, which, headed by the disloyal La Fayette, and surrounded by the drunken, howling ruffians, his followers, brought the royal family prisoners to Paris.
Baron von Mack came to see them, told Mme. de Genlis they were recognised, but was very kind, said they might stay as long as they liked, and when the two girls were well enough to move, gave them passports to Switzerland.
This journey they made in safety; though for a few hours they skirted along the French outposts, saw in the distance a village on fire across the Rhine, and heard the continual roar of the guns.
They were thankful indeed to find themselves at Schaffhausen, where they were joined by the Duc de Chartres. It was fortunate for his sister that she did not remain with him; he had been obliged to fly with Dumouriez two days after she left, through firing and dangers of all kinds; and what would have become of a girl of sixteen, in a violent illness, with no one to look after her?
They stayed at Schaffhausen till they were rested, after seven days’ journey, and then proceeded to Zurich, where they thought of establishing themselves. But directly the magistrates heard the now accursed name of Orléans, all negotiations were at an end; besides which the place was full of emigrés, and they could not go out without being insulted and annoyed.
They, therefore, removed to the little town of Zug, on the lake of that name, professing to be an Irish family and living in the strictest retirement. To any one who has seen the little town of Zug, it must, even now, appear remote and retired, but in those days it had indeed the aspect of a refuge forgotten by the world. Sheltered by the mighty Alps, the little town clusters at the foot of the steep slope covered with grass and trees, along the shores of the blue lake. A hundred years ago it must have been an ideal hiding place.