Yesterday evening I was walking alone; the sky was like an autumn sky; a cold wind blew at intervals. I stopped at an opening in a thicket to look at the sun: it was sinking into the clouds above the tower of Alluye, from which Gabrielle[151], occupying that tower, saw the sun set, as I did, two hundred years ago. What has become of Henry and Gabrielle? The same that shall have become of me when these Memoirs are published.
I was drawn from my reflections by the twittering of a thrush perched on the topmost branch of a birch-tree. At once that magic sound brought back before my eyes my father's domain: I forgot the catastrophes which I had lately witnessed, and suddenly carried back into the past, I saw once more the fields where I had so often heard the thrush's song. When I listened to it then, I was sad, as I am today; but that first sadness was of the kind which springs from a vague longing for happiness, at a time when we are without experience; the sadness which I now feel comes from the knowledge of things appreciated and judged. The song of the bird in the Combourg woods told me of a happiness which I hoped to achieve; the same song in the park at Montboissier reminded me of days wasted in the pursuit of that unattainable happiness. I have nothing more to learn; I have travelled faster than others, and have made the circuit of life. The hours fly and drag me with them; I have not even the certainty of being able to complete these Memoirs. In how many places have I already commenced to write them, and in what place shall I finish them? How long shall I wander on the edge of the wood? Let me make the most of the few moments left to me; let me hasten to depict my youth, while I am still in touch with it: the traveller quitting for ever an enchanted shore writes his journal in sight of the land which is withdrawing, soon to disappear from sight.
I have described my return to Combourg and my reception by my father, my mother, and my sister Lucile. The reader will perhaps remember that my three other sisters were married and living on the estates of their new families in the neighbourhood of Fougères. My brother, whose ambition was beginning to display itself, was oftener in Paris than at Rennes. He first bought a post as maître des requêtes, which he sold in order to enter the military service. He entered the Royal Cavalry Regiment; he then joined the diplomatic service, and accompanied the Comte de La Luzerne to London, where he met André Chénier[152]; he was on the point of obtaining the Vienna Embassy, when our troubles broke out. He asked for Constantinople, but found a formidable competitor in Mirabeau, who had been promised this embassy as the price of his alliance with the Court party. My brother had therefore almost taken leave of Combourg at the time when I came to live there.
My father entrenched himself in his manor, which he never left, not even to attend the sittings of the States[153]. My mother went to Saint-Malo for six weeks in every year, at Eastertide; she looked forward to that time as the period of her deliverance, for she detested Combourg. A month before the journey, it was discussed as though it were a hazardous enterprise; preparations were made; the horses were rested. On the eve of departure, we went to bed at seven in the evening, in order to get up at two o'clock in the morning. My mother, to her great contentment, set out at three, and occupied the whole day in covering twelve leagues.
I am sent to Dinan College.
Lucile, who had been received as a canoness to the Chapter of the Argentière, was about to be transferred to that of Remiremont: while awaiting this change, she remained buried in the country. As for myself, after my escapade from Brest, I declared my wish to embrace the ecclesiastical state: the truth is that I was only seeking to gain time, for I did not know what I wished. I was sent to the college at Dinan to complete my humanities. I knew Latin better than my masters; but I began to learn Hebrew. The Abbé de Rouillac was the principal of the college, and the Abbé Duhamel my tutor.
Dinan, adorned with old trees, fortified with old towers, is built upon a picturesque site, on a high hill at the foot of which flows the tidal Rance, and overlooks sloping and pleasantly-wooded valleys. The mineral waters of Dinan have some renown. This historic city, which gave birth to Duclos[154], displayed among its antiquities the heart of Du Guesclin: an heroic dust which, stolen during the Revolution, was on the point of being pounded by a glazier to be used for paint. Was it intended for pictures of victories won over the enemies of the country?
M. Broussais, my fellow-townsman, became my fellow-student at Dinan. The students were taken to bathe on Thursdays, like the clerks under Pope Adrian I., or on Sundays, like the prisoners under the Emperor Honorius. Once I was nearly drowned; on another occasion, M. Broussais was bitten by ungrateful leeches, which failed to foresee the future[155]. Dinan was at an equal distance from Combourg and Plancoët. I visited my uncle de Bedée at Monchoix and my own family at Combourg by turns.