[BOOK II][75]
A note from M. Pasquier—Dieppe—Change in my education—Spring in Brittany—An historic forest—Pelagian fields—The moon setting over the sea—Departure for Combourg—Description of the castle—Dol College—Mathematics and languages—An instance of memory—Holidays at Combourg—Life at a country-seat—Feudal customs—The inhabitants of Combourg—Second holidays at Combourg—The Conti Regiment-Camp at Saint-Malo—An abbey—A provincial theatre—Marriage of my two eldest sisters—Return to college—A revolution begins to take place in my ideas—Adventure of the magpie—Third holidays at Combourg—The quack—Return to college—Invasion of France—Games—The Abbé de Chateaubriand—My First Communion—I leave Dol College—A mission at Combourg—Rennes College—I meet Gesril—Moreau-Limoëlan—Marriage of my third sister—I am sent to Brest for my naval examination—The harbour of Brest—I once more meet Gesril—Lapeyrouse—I return to Combourg
On the 4th of September 1812[76] I received the following note from M. Pasquier[77], the Prefect of Police:
"Prefect's Office.
"The Prefect of Police begs M. de Chateaubriand kindly to call at his office, either at about four o'clock this afternoon or at nine o'clock to-morrow morning."
The object of Prefect of Police in sending for me was to serve an order on me to leave Paris. I withdrew to Dieppe, which was first called Bertheville and more than a hundred years ago changed its name to Dieppe, from the English word "deep[78]." In 1788, I was in garrison here with the second battalion of my regiment: to dwell in this town of red-brick houses and ivory-white shops, this town of clean streets and clear atmosphere, was to take shelter in the days of my youth. When I walked out, I came across the ruins of Arques Castle, standing in the midst of its rubbish-heaps. It will be remembered that Dieppe was the birthplace of Duquesne[79]. When I stayed indoors, the sea lay spread before my view; from the table at which I sat I gazed upon the sea which saw me born and which bathes the shores of Great Britain, where I underwent so long an exile: my eyes surveyed the billows which carried me to America, cast me back upon Europe, and again bore me to the coasts of Africa and Asia. Hail, O sea, my cradle and my image! I will relate to thee the sequel of my story: if I lie, thy waves, commingled with all my days, shall accuse me of imposture to the generations to come.
Change in my education.
My mother had constantly desired that I should be given a classical education. The career of a sailor, for which I was intended, "would perhaps," she said, "not be to my taste;" she thought that, in any event, it would be well to make me capable of following another profession. Her piety led her to hope that I should decide in favour of the Church. She therefore proposed to send me to a college where I should learn mathematics, drawing, fencing and English; she did not mention Greek or Latin for fear of scaring my father; but she intended to have me taught them, at first in secret, and later openly, when I should have made progress. My father accepted her proposal: it was arranged to send me to the college at Dol. This town was selected because it lay upon the road from Saint-Malo to Combourg.
In the very cold winter immediately preceding my school-days, the house in which we lived took fire: I was saved by my eldest sister, who carried me through the flames in her arms. M. de Chateaubriand, who had gone to his castle, sent for his wife to join him there: we did so in the spring.
Spring in Brittany is milder than in the country round Paris, and the trees bud three weeks earlier. The five birds that herald its coming, the swallow, the loriot, the cuckoo, the quail, and the nightingale, come with the breezes that nestle in the gulfs of the Armorican Peninsula. The earth grows as thick with daisies, pansies, jonquils, narcissuses, hyacinths, ranunculuses, anemones as the neglected spaces around the churches of St. John Lateran and the Holy Cross of Jerusalem in Rome. Glades deck themselves with tall and graceful ferns; fields of broom and furze glow with flowers gay as golden butterflies. The hedgerows at whose feet strawberries, raspberries and violets abound are adorned with hawthorn, honeysuckle and brambles, whose brown and twisted shoots bear glorious fruit and leaves. The country is alive with bees and birds; swarms and nests greet the children at every step. In sheltered nooks, myrtle and oleander grow in the open as in Greece; the fig-tree ripens as in Provence; each apple-tree, with its carmine-tinted blossoms, resembles the large nosegay of a village bride.