CHAPTER VII

In England—Sheridan—Strange adventure—Raincy—Farewell to Philippe-égalité—Proscribed—Tournay—Pamela—Death of the King.
Capital letter W

WHILE Mme. de Genlis was safe and enjoying herself in England terrible events were happening in France. The Duke of Orléans, already infamous in the eyes of all decent people, was beginning to lose his popularity with the revolutionists. “He [125] could not doubt the discredit into which he had fallen, the flight of his son [126] exposed him to dangerous suspicions; it was decided to get rid of him. He had demanded that his explanations should be admitted, but he was advised to ‘ask rather, in the interest of your own safety, for a decree of banishment for yourself and your family.’

“I have said before, I think, that the Comte de Beaujolais did not share the opinions of his family, and I have pleasure in quoting a paragraph on this subject written by Marie Antoinette in a letter to her sister the Archduchess Christine, governess of the Low Countries.

“‘The young Comte de Beaujolais, in the innocence [427] of his soul, has always remained a Bourbon, and this amiable boy feels a tender sympathy for my misfortunes. The other day he sent me in secret a person named Alexandre, a valet de chambre of good education. This worthy man, whose open expression impressed me in his favour, knelt down when he came near me, wiped away some tears and gave me a letter from the young prince, in which I found the most touching words and the purest sentiments. The good Alexandre begged me to keep this a profound secret, and told me that the Comte de Beaujolais often talked of escaping from his father and dying in arms for the defence of his King.

“‘How I regret that the death of this young prince deprived me of the happiness of opening the gates of France to him and rewarding his noble sentiments.’” [127]

The Duc de Chartres now also looked with disapproval upon his father’s conduct. In his “Mémoire’s” Louis XVIII. quotes a letter of M. de Boissy, who says that the only republican amongst the sons of égalité was the Duc de Montpensier. [128]

The latter part of the sojourn of Mme. de Genlis in England was overshadowed by anxieties, annoyances, and fears.

Like all other nations, the English were horror-stricken at the crimes and cruelties going on in France, and exasperated against their perpetrators, more especially against the Duke of Orléans, who was regarded with universal hatred and contempt.
 
The general indignation was extended to all who had, or were believed to have, any complicity in the horrors committed, or any connection with the miscreants who were guilty of them; and now Mme. de Genlis began to feel the consequences of the line of conduct she had chosen to adopt.

Anonymous letters filled with abuse and threats poured in upon her; she was told the house would be set on fire in the night, she heard her name cried in the streets, and on sending out for the newspaper being sold, she saw a long story about herself and M. de Calonne, giving the history of an interview they had at Paris the preceding evening! She sent it to Sheridan, who was a friend of hers, begging him to write to the paper saying that she did not know Calonne, and had not been at Paris for many months, which he did.

Of course she thought all these denunciations most unjust and astonishing. Why, she asked, should they call her a “savage fury,” and abuse her in this way?

“I never carried on a single intrigue. I loved the Monarchy, and I spared no efforts to soften and moderate M. le Duc d’Orléans,” not realising that the way to escape suspicion was not to try to soften, but to have nothing to do with him; and that if she loved the Monarchy she had shown her affection in a very strange manner. But she was a strange mixture of great talents and many good qualities with frivolity, inconsistency, and shallowness. For example, when she was told that the Monarchy (which she says she loved) had fallen, and the Republic been declared, her first exclamation was—
 
“Eh! What! Then Athalie will never be played any more; that masterpiece will be lost to the French stage!”

Seeing in the French papers that a party, with sinister intentions, were agitating for the trial of the King and Queen, Mme. de Genlis wrote a letter of six pages to Pétion remonstrating, advising, and quoting the ancient Romans who did not murder the Tarquins but only banished them. The letter was published, but of course did no good, but drew upon her the hatred of the Terrorists.

The King and Queen were doomed. Even so late as between the 20th of June and the 10th of August, there was a last chance of escape, a plot for their flight, each one separately. They might, or some of them might, have escaped. One cannot help fancying that the children at any rate might have been saved; they could not have been so well known and might so well have been disguised. This was spoilt by the Queen, who refused to be separated from the Dauphin. After that there was no hope.

Just after the September massacres Mme. de Genlis received a letter from the Duc d’Orléans desiring her to bring his daughter back to France at once, to which she replied that she should do nothing of the sort, and that it would be absurd to choose such a time for entering France.

She heard there was a plot to carry off Mademoiselle d’Orléans, which made her uneasy, and several other things happened which rather alarmed her.

Early in November the Duc d’Orléans sent [430] M. Maret with a summons to Mme. de Genlis either to bring Mademoiselle back to France or to give her into his care as her escort. Mme. de Genlis, not liking to desert the young girl, though most unwilling to return to France, agreed to accompany her, and before they left, Sheridan, who had fallen violently in love with Pamela, proposed to her and was accepted. It was settled that they should be married in a fortnight, when Mme. de Genlis expected to be back in England.

It was not a marriage that promised much happiness. Sheridan was forty-six and a confirmed spendthrift. He was a widower, and the extraordinary likeness of Pamela to his first wife had struck him. Not that his first marriage had been altogether successful, for his wife had, after a time, had a liaison with Lord Edward Fitzgerald.

They started at ten in the morning in two carriages, the first with six horses, the second, which contained the servants, with four. They had only two men, one French servant of their own, the other hired for the occasion, as they had sent four back to Paris. Their servant, Darnal, observed after a time that they were not going along the Dover road, by which he had been before, and pointed this out to Mme. de Genlis, who spoke to the postillions. They made some excuse, assuring her that they would get back on to the road, but they did nothing of the kind but went on at a rapid pace, saying they would soon be at a village called Dartford, which for a time reassured Mme. de Genlis. However, they did not arrive at Dartford, and presently two well-dressed men passed on foot and called out in distinct French—
 
“Mesdames, you are being deceived, they are not taking you to Dover.”

It was difficult to make the postillions stop, but after a time Darnal forced them to do so, assisted by the cries of the terrified travellers who were then passing through a village. The strange servant did nothing. They got out, and on asking how far they were from Dartford they were told twenty-two miles.

Mme. de Genlis hired a man from the village to go with them, and with his help and that of Darnal forced the postillions, who were very insolent, to return to London.

Sheridan took the matter up, the postillions were examined, but all they said was that a strange gentleman had taken them to a public-house and bribed them to take the road they had followed. The hired servant had disappeared. Not wishing to spend the time or money necessary to bring this mysterious affair into a law court, they did nothing more about it, and never understood why it had happened, or what was intended, or anything concerning it.

They stayed a month with Sheridan at Isleworth, and then he saw them off at Dover, and they landed safely in France. Immense crowds assembled to greet Mademoiselle d’Orléans, but at Chantilly they were met by a messenger of the Duke, who gave Mme. de Genlis a note saying—

“If you have not crossed yet, stay in England till fresh orders; if my courrier meets you on the road in France wait wherever you are and do not come to Paris. A second courrier will instruct you what to do.”
 
Paying no attention to this order, Mme. de Genlis continued her journey to Belle Chasse, where she found her husband, the Duke, and five or six others.

An air of gloom was over them all. Mademoiselle d’Orléans was crying bitterly. Mme. de Genlis, as she restored her to her father’s care, in the presence of the rest, told him that she resigned her post of governess, and should start for England the next morning.

The Duke with an air of consternation asked her to come into another room alone with him, and there with much embarrassment told her that his daughter, who was now fifteen, was by a new law placed in the list of emigrées for not having returned at the time appointed; that it was her fault for not bringing her back when he first sent for her; that he was sure to be able to make it all right by getting her placed in a list of exceptions to be made, but that meantime she must go and wait in some neutral country; that he implored Mme. de Genlis to take her to Tournay; that the decree of exception would certainly be out in a week, and then he would come himself and fetch his daughter, and she (Mme. de Genlis) should be free.

She replied that she would go to Tournay on condition that if the decree was not out in a fortnight, the Duke would send some one else to take her place with his daughter, which he promised to do.

M. de Sillery (Comte de Genlis) proposed that they should go to his box at the theatre to cheer their spirits. Among the audience was Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who, on seeing Pamela, was struck, as [433] Sheridan had been, with her extraordinary likeness to Mrs. Sheridan, and like him, fell in love with her, and got a friend to present him in their box.

The next morning they went to Raincy, where the Duke and M. de Sillery spent the whole of the day with them. The infatuation between the Duke and Mme. de Genlis seems to have been at an end, if we may trust her account of that last day.

“He seemed,” she says “distrait, gloomy, and preoccupied, with a strange expression which had something sinister in his face; he walked up and down from one room to another, as if he dreaded conversation or questions. The day was fine. I sent Mademoiselle, my niece, and Pamela into the garden; M. de Sillery followed: I found myself alone with M. le Duc d’Orléans. Then I said something about his situation, he hastily interrupted me and said brusquely that he had pledged himself to the Jacobins. I replied that after all that had happened it was a crime and a folly; that he would be their victim.... I advised him to emigrate with his family to America. The Duke smiled disdainfully and answered as he had often done before, that I was well worth being consulted and listened to when it was a question of historical or literary matters, but that I knew nothing about politics.... The conversation became heated, then angry, and suddenly he left me. In the evening I had a long interview with M. de Sillery. I entreated him with tears to leave France; it would have been easy for him to get away and to take with him at least a hundred thousand francs. He listened with emotion; told me he abhorred all the excesses of [434] the Revolution, but that I took too gloomy a view of the outlook. Robespierre and his party were too mediocre to keep their ascendancy long; all the talent and capacity was among the moderates, who would soon re-establish order and morality (they were all put to death soon afterwards); and that he considered it criminal for an honest man to leave France at this moment, as he thereby deprived his country of one more voice for reason and humanity. I insisted, but in vain. He spoke of the Duke of Orléans, saying that in his opinion he was lost, because he was placing all his hopes in the Jacobins, who delighted in degrading him in order to destroy him more easily....”

“We started the next morning; M. le Duc gave me his arm to the carriage; I was much agitated, Mademoiselle burst into tears, her father was pale and trembling. When I was in the carriage he stood in silence by the door with his eyes fixed upon me; his gloomy, sorrowful look seeming to implore pity.

“‘Adieu, Madame!’ he said; and the changed tone of his voice so increased my agitation that I could not speak. I held out my hand which he took and pressed tightly in his; then, turning hastily to the postillions he signed to them, and we started.”

M. de Sillery, M. Ducrest, and the Duc de Chartres went with them to the frontier of Belgium; and they arrived safely at Tournay, where they were followed by Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who was eager to marry Pamela. And now, as before, he was the successful rival of Sheridan, whom [435] she threw over for his sake. They were married at Tournay and departed to England, where she was received with great kindness by his family.

Weeks passed away and still no one came from the Duc d’Orléans; Mme. de Genlis wrote several times, and he always begged her to wait a few days longer.

The Duc de Chartres came and joined them at Tournay, where Mademoiselle d’Orléans was taken dangerously ill with a bilious fever. She recovered slowly, but in January, 1793, letters from France brought the news of the execution of Louis XVI., of the infamous part played by Philippe-égalité, and of the imminent danger of M. de Sillery.

The Duc de Chartres was horror-stricken at the crime, at his father’s share in it, and at the hypocritical letter in which he excused his baseness, speaking of his lacerated heart, his sacrifice to liberty, and the welfare of France, &c.

Very different was the letter of M. de Sillery. He, at any rate, if he had been wrong and mistaken, was ready and willing to pay the penalty.

He sent a number of the printed copies of his “opinion on the King’s trial,” desiring that some might be forwarded to England. It was as follows:

“I do not vote for his death; first, because he does not deserve it; secondly, because we have no right to judge him; thirdly, because I look upon his condemnation as the greatest political fault that could be committed.” He ended his letter by saying that he knew quite well that he had signed his own death-warrant, and, beside himself [436] with horror and indignation, he actually went to the Abbaye and gave himself up as a prisoner. It was the act of a madman, for he might very likely have escaped, and his wife consoled herself with the idea that as there was nothing against him he would only suffer a short imprisonment.

Though several members had voted against the murder of the King, he was the only one who had had the courage of his opinions. Condorcet gave as a reason that he disapproved of all capital punishment, the rest made different excuses.

Mme. de Valence, daughter of Mme. de Genlis came to them at Tournay, but very soon had to hurry back to France as the Austrian army was coming up.

Like Mme. Le Brun, Mme. de Genlis had no reason to fear poverty in exile, her writings would always be sufficient to provide for her; but she was just then short of money; and, unfortunately, in her haste, though she had brought with her a good many of her valuable possessions from Belle Chasse, she had left a great deal that she might have taken. Mme. de Valence went to Belle Chasse and saved her piano, some pictures, and various other things which her mother gave to her, the rest were mostly confiscated.

It was very difficult just then to get money from France, and she had even to advance some for Mademoiselle d’Orléans. Remembering what had happened to La Fayette, she was very much afraid of falling into the hands of the Austrians; on the other hand she could not go into France [437] without a permission, which she was silly enough to ask for, but luckily for herself, could not get.

The Duc de Chartres wrote to his father saying that he never wished to return to France, and wanted to get leave from the Convention to expatriate himself, but the Duke replied that there was no sense in it, and forbade him to write.

The Duc de Montpensier came to Tournay to see his brother and sister and then left for Nice.