They both entered together, and a scene commenced which may be better imagined than described. Never but on one single occasion did my mother summon sufficient fortitude to describe it to me. Suffice to say, that nothing could shake the stoical resolution of the young prisoner: the two women on their knees, the weeping wife, the agonized mother reminding him that his child would be an orphan, the stranger urging the utmost willingness to risk her life in his service, — all was unavailing. The sentiments of honour and of duty were stronger in the soul of this man than love of life, than love for a tender and exquisitely beautiful woman, than the impulses of paternal affection. The time accorded to my mother for her visit was passed in useless remonstrances. She had, at length, to be carried out of the ehamber. Louise conducted her into the street, where our friend M. Guy de Chaumont Quitry awaited her with an anxiety that may be easily imagined.
FAMILY MEMOIRS.21
" All is lost," said my mother; " he will not save himself."
" I was sure he would not," replied M. de Quitry.
This answer, worthy of the friend of such a man, appears to me almost as sublime as the conduct to which it referred.
And of all this the world has hitherto known nothing. Supernatural virtue passed unobserved in a time when the sons of France were as lavish of their heroism as they had been of their genius fifty years before.
My mother saw her husband but once more after this scene. By means of money she procured permission to bid him the last adieu, when condemned, and in the Coneiergerie.
This solemn interview was disturbed by so singular a circumstance, that I have felt some hesitation before concluding to recount it. It will appear like an invention of the tragi-comic genius of Shakspeare, but it is strictly true. In all scenes and circumstances, reality is more strange than fiction.
My mother, Delphine de Sabran, was one of the most lovely women of those times. The devotion she displayed to her father-in-law, assures to her a glorious place in the annals of a revolution in which the heroism of the women has often atoned for the ferocity and fanaticism of the men.
She met my father for the last time, with composure, embraced him in silence, and sat with him for three hours. During this time not a word of reproach was spoken. The, perhaps, too elevated sentiment which had cost him his life was forgiven ; not a regret was breathed outwardly : it was felt that the
22FAMILY MEMOIRS.
unhappy victim had need of all his powers to prepare for the sacrifice. But few words passed between the condemned man and his wife. At length my name was pronounced ; this was too much—my father entreated pardon — and my mother did not name me again.
In these heroic times death became an exhibition in which the victims felt their honour staked not to betray fear before their executioners. My poor mother respected in her husband, so young, so handsome, so full of mind, and formerly so happy, the necessity he felt for preserving all his courage for the trial of the morrow. The last proof that can be given of an elevated character appeared then a primary duty, even in the eyes of a naturally timid woman : so true it is that the sublime is always within the reach of characters that are sincere ! No woman could be more sincere than my mother; and no person could display more energy in trying circumstances. Midnight was drawing nigh, and fearing that her fortitude would support her no longer, she rose to retire.
Their interview had taken ]:>laee in a room which served as a hall of entrance to several apartments of the prison: it was spacious, and lighted by a single candle. Suddenly, one of the doors, hitherto unnoticed, opened. A man with a dark lantern in his hand, and grotesquely clad, issued from it. He was a prisoner proceeding to visit another in a different apartment. His costume was ludicrous in the extreme, and his visage was highly rouged. This ridiculous apparition appeared before the two young people in the moment of their darkest despair. Without thinking that the object of the rouge was — not to beautify a withered face — but, probably, to prevent a man
FAMILY MEMOIRS.
23
of proud spirit from appearing pale before the scaffold of the morrow, they involuntarily burst into a loud and frightful fit of laughter : a nervous electricity triumphed for one moment over the bitterest anguish of the soul. The effort they had so long made to conceal from each other their feelings, had irritated the fibres of the brain: they were thus suddenly overcome by a sense of the ridiculous, the only emotion doubtless for which they were unprepared; and in spite of their efforts, or rather in consequence of their efforts to remain calm, their laughter became inordinate, and speedily degenerated into frightful spasms. The guards, whose revolutionary experience had enlightened them on the nature of this phenomenon, had pity on my mother — greater pity than, on a similar occasion, four years before, the less experienced populace of Paris had for the daughter of M. Ber-thier. The unhappy wife was carried away in convulsions : such was the last interview of this young couple, and such were the recitals that nursed my infancy. My mother had commanded these subjects never to be named to me, but the common people love to recount the catastrophes they have survived. The servants scarcely spoke to me of any thing but the misfortunes of my parents ; and never shall I forget the consecµient impression of terror which I experienced in my earliest intercourse with the world.
My first sentiment was that of a fear of life, a sentiment which must be more or less participated in by all, for all have their measure of woes to fill up. It was doubtless this sentiment which taught me to comprehend the Christian religion, before even I had been instructed in it. I felt from my infancy that my lot had been cast in a place of exile.
24
FAMILY MEMOIRS.
To return to my father : — After he had regained his composure, he occupied himself with preparing for the stern trial that impended, and towards morning wrote to his wife a letter admirable for the fortitude which it displays. It has been preserved in the Memoirs of the Times, together with that of my grandfather's to this same son ; whose death is to be attributed, first, to a sense of duty, which would not permit him to remain a refugee at the Court of Berlin ; secondly, to the part he took in the defence of his parent; and, thirdly, to his refusal to save himself at the risk of the life of a young and unknown female.
If his enemies could not speak of his memory without respect, what must have been the sentiments of his friends !
M. Girard, his old tutor, preserved for him the ten-derest affection. On being suddenly apprised of his fate, he was seized with an apoplectic fit, and died almost immediately.
My father had a simplicity of manners and a modesty which disarmed envy, at a time when it reigned without control, and which account for the admiration his merits inspired.
He must doubtless have thought more than once during his last night, of the predictions of his friends at Berlin ; but I do not believe that he even then repented of the part he had taken. He was one of those with whom life, however bright its hopes, appears little compared with the testimony of a pure conscience. That land is not to be despaired of which produces men in whose hearts the sense of duty is stronger than the sentiments of affection.
MADAME DE CUSTINE.
25
CHAP. III.
CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF MADAME DE CUSTINE. HER
ARREST.PROVIDENTIAL CONCEALMENT OF HER PAPERS.DE
VOTION OF NANETTE. SCENE AT THE TOMB OF 3IARAT.
MADAME DE BEAUHARNAIS IN PRISON.ANECDOTES OF PRISON
LIFE. INTERROGATION OF MADAME DE CUSTINE. INSPIRES
ONE OF HER JUDGES WITH THE DESIRE OF SAVING HER. THE
MEANS WHICH HE USES DURING SIX MONTHS TO RETARD HER
EXECUTION.END OF THE REIGN OF TERROR.CHARACTER OF
ROBESPIERRE. THE PRISONS AFTER HIS FALL. PETITION OF
NANETTE.EXTRAORDINARY DELIVERANCE OF MADAME DE CUS
TINE. RETURNS TO HER HOUSE. SICKNESS AND POVERTY. —
NOBLE CONDUCT OF JEROME. HIS AFTER HISTORY. JOURNEY
OF MADAME DE CUSTINE TO SWITZERLAND. BA
LLAD OF LE
ROSIER. LAVATER.MADAME DE CUSTINE UNDER THE EM
PIRE. HER FRIENDS.DEATH IN 1826.
As I have begun to relate the misfortunes of my family, I will finish the recitaL Perhaps tliis episode of our revolution, as recounted by the son of two individuals who performed conspicuous parts in it, will not be found altogether without interest.
My mother having lost all that could attach her to her country, had now no duty to perform but that of saving her life, and watching over the welfare of her child.
Her situation was, in fact, much worse than that of the other French fugitives. Our name, tainted with Liberalism, was as odious to the aristocrats of that period as to the Jacobins. The prejudiced and intolerant partisans of the old regime, could as little
VOL. I.С
26
MADAME DE CUSTINE
forgive my parents for the part they had taken at the commencement of the revolution, as could the Terrorists for the moderation of their republican patriotism.
The Girondists, who were the Doctrinaires of this era, would have defended the cause of my father ; but that party was annihilated, or had, at least, disappeared since the triumph of Robespierre.
My mother, therefore, found herself in a more isolated position than most of the Jacobin victims. Having devotedly embraced the opinions of her husband, she had been obliged to renounce the society in which her life had been passed, and she had not sought entrance into any other. The remains of those circles which had constituted the world of that period — the world, that is to say, of the Faubourg Saint Germain —were not propitiated by our misfortunes : and high aristocrats had well nigh come forth from their hiding-places to join in the chorus of the Marsellaise, when they heard cried in the streets the condemnation of the traitor Custine.
The moderate reform party—the men whose love of France exists independently of the form of government adopted by the French — tin's party, which is now a nation, was not then represented in the country. My father died a martyr in the cause of that unborn nation; and my mother, when only twenty-two years old, had to undergo all the fatal consequences of her husband's virtue — a virtue too lofty to be appreciated by men who could not understand its motives. The energetic moderation of my father was ill understood by his cotemporaries, and his wronged memory attached to the person of his wife, and followed her even to the tomb. Identified
CONCEALING HER PAPEBS.27
with a name which, in the midst of a world torn by conflicting passions, represented the principle of impartiality, she was abandoned by all parties. Others had the consolation of mourning over their wrongs in company, my mother could only weep alone !
Soon after the catastrophe which rendered her a widow, she became aware of the necessity of leaving France. This, however, required a passport, which it was very difficult to obtain. By means of money she procured a false one, under the name of a dealer in lace about to visit Belgium. It was arranged that my nurse, a faithful servant of our family in Lorraine, and who had brought me to Paris, should proceed with me by way of Alsace to Pyrmont in Westphalia, where we were to meet my mother, and from thence journey together to Berlin, in which city she expected to join her own mother and her brother also. To no other servant but the nurse herself was this plan confided. All preliminary arrangements having been made, Nanette departed with me for the office of the Strasburg diligence, leaving my mother, who was to set out immediately after us on her journey to Flanders, at her lodging in the Rue de Bourbon. She was employing the last minutes that were to precede her departure, in her cabinet, assorting papers and burning such as might compromise others; for among these papers were letters from officers in the army, and from parties already suspected of being aristocrats, of a character that would have sufficed to bring to the guillotine, in four and twenty hours, herself and fifty other individuals.
Seated on a large sofa near to the fire-place, she was busy burning the most dangerous letters, and с 2
28MADAME DE CUSTINE ;
placing others, which, as having been written by her parents and dearest friends she felt unwilling to destroy, in a separate box, when suddenly she heard the door of the outer apartment open, and forewarned by one of those jiresentiments which had never failed to admonish her in moments of danger, she said within herself, " I am betrayed; they are coming to arrest me ;" whereupon, without further deliberation, for it was too late to burn the heaps of dangerous documents by which she was surrounded, she gathered them hastily together and stuffed them, with the box also, under the sofa, the hangings of which fortunately reached to the floor.
This accomplished, she arose, and received, with an air of perfect com¡iosure, the persons who instantly after entered her cabinet. They were the members of the Committee of General Safety, with their attendants. These beings, whose external appearance was at once ridiculous and terrible, surrounded her with muskets and drawn swords.
" You are under arrest," said the president.
My mother made no answer.
(< You are arrested, for intent to emigrate."
" It was my intention," she replied, on seeing her false passport already in the hands of the president; for it had been taken from her jrøckct by the agent of the municipality, whose first care was to search her person.
At this moment my mother observed that her servants had followed the members of the committee into the room. A single glance sufficed to show her by whom she had been denounced ; the face of her femme äe chamhre betrayed the secret of a troubled conscience.
HER AREEST.29
" I pity yon," said my mother, addressing this person, who began to cry and to ask for pardon, pleading that she had acted through fear for herself,
¢¢ Had you watched me better," replied her mistress, " you would have found that I did not expose you to any risk."
" To which prison will you be conducted ?" asked one of the members of the committee; " you are free to choose,"
" I have no choice."
Before departing they examined the drawers, cabinets, and each piece of furniture in the room, and searched every where except beneath the sofa. The papers remained where they had been placed. My mother was conveyed to the Carmelite convent, which had been converted into a prison, and on whose walls was still to be seen the blood of the victims of the 2d September, 1792.
Meanwhile the friend who waited for her at the barrier, convinced from her non-appearance that she had been arrested, hurried to the office of the diligence to prevent Xanette from proceeding with me to Strasburg. He arrived in time, and I was taken back to our residence. My mother was no longer there ; the seals had already been affixed upon the doors of her apartments; all the servants had been dismissed ; not, however, before they had found time to plunder the plate and linen. The house was robbed of all its valuables, and deserted, except by the civic guard, who kept the door. The kitchen was the only room left to us. Here my poor nurse made her bed close to my cradle, and tended me for eight months with the affection of a mother; and с 3
30DEVOTION OF NANETTE.
with a devotion that could not have been exceeded had I been a great nobleman.
After the money, which had been destined for our journey, was expended, she supported me by selling, one by one, the articles of her dress. If my mother perished, her intention was to carry me to her own country, and to bring me up among the little peasants of her family. I was at that time two years old. Falling dangerously ill of a malignant fever, she found means to procure for me the attendance of three of the first medical men in Pans. Poor Nanette ! she had, indeed, both a generous heart and an energetic character, though the strength of her feel-ings may not have been equalled by the powers of her intellect.
Her fearlessness made her often very imprudent. During the trial of my grandfather, the people in the streets would often inveigh, in the most violent language, against the traitor Custine. Whenever my nurse chanced to hear these imprecations she would stop in the middle of the crowd, demand who dared t
o say any thing against General Custine, defend him against the accusations of the populace, maintaining that she, who was bona his servant, knew him better than they, and conclude by heaping both on them and their revolution the most contemptuous epithets. More than once has she thus incurred danger of being killed in the streets of Pans.
On one occasion, passing with me in her arms across the Place du Carrousel, she observed the women on their knees paying their orisons before the revolutionary shrine of Marat, the martyr of atheism and inhumanity.
SCENE AT MARAT'S TOMB.31
By a confusion of ideas, which strikingly exhibits the disorder into which minds were plunged at this epoch, the women, after finisliing their prayers, rose, paying a deep reverence to their new saint, and making the sign of the cross.
Nanette was so indignant at this exhibition, that, forgetting I was in her arms, she began to load these new devotees with abuse, and from words soon came to blows. During the struggle she continued faith-fully to hold me to her bosom, the fear of my suffering in the contest being her chief care. At length she fell, and the ery of " to the lantern with the aristocrat " resounded from all sides. A woman snatched me from her arms, and she was being dragged along by the hair of her head, when a man, who appeared among the most furious of the crowd, pressed near to her, and contrived to hint in her ear that she should counterfeit insanity, and that he would take care of her child. Nanette began immediately to sing and make many strange grimaces; whereupon her friendly adviser called out "she is mad."—"She is mad; she is mad; let her go," was re-echoed by other voices. Availing herself of this means of escape, she retreated, singing and dancing, towards the Pont Royal, and in the Rue du Вас received me again from the hands of her deliverer.
Russia in 1839 -Empire of the Czar: A Journey Through Eternal Russia Page 5
