OF THAT 
 
 INTERESTING PERIOD OF THE LIFE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 BARONESS DE STAE£,-H0LSTEIN, 
 
 n 
 
 WRITTEN BY HERSELF, 
 During the Years 1810, 1811, 1812, and 1813, 
 
 AND NOW FIRST PUBLISHED FROM THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT) 
 
 BY HER SON. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH. 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY COLLINS AND CO., AND C. S. TAN WINKLE. 
 1821. 
 
h% 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 Pkeface, by the Editor 
 
 FAGS 
 
 y 
 
 PART THE FIRST. 
 
 CttAPTSB 
 I. 
 
 11, 
 III. 
 
 IV. 
 
 V. 
 
 VL 
 
 VII. 
 —VIII. 
 
 IX. 
 
 XL 
 XII. 
 
 Xlll. 
 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 XVIII, 
 
 Causes of Bonaparte's animosity against 
 
 me 
 
 Commencement of opposition in the 
 Tribunate. — My first Persecution on 
 that account. — Fouch^ - _ . 
 System of Fusion adopted by Bonaparte. 
 — -Publication of my Work on Lite- 
 rature 
 
 Conversation of my Father with Bona- 
 parte. — Campaign of Marengo 
 The Infernal Machine. — Peace ofLune- 
 ville ------ 
 
 Corps diplomatique during the Consul- 
 ate. — Death of the Emperor Paul 
 Paris in 1801 
 Journey to Coppet. — Preliminaries of 
 
 Peace with England - - 
 Paris in 1802. — Bonaparte President of 
 the Italian Republic. — My return to 
 Coppet - - . - . 
 
 New symptoms of Bonaparte's ill will 
 to my Father and Myself.— Affairs 
 of Switzerland - - - _ 
 Rupture with England. — Commence- 
 ment of my Exile . - . 
 Departiire for Germany. — Arrival at 
 Weimar - - . - - 
 Berlin, — Prince Louis-Ferdinand 
 Conspiracy of Moreau and Pichegru 
 Assassination of the Duke d'Enghien 
 Illness and Death of M. Necker 
 Trial of Moreau . - - , 
 Commencement of the Empire - 
 
 It 
 
 20 
 
 2$ 
 
 30 
 
 36 
 
 40 
 44 
 
 51 
 
 55 
 
 62 
 
 69 
 
 79 
 83 
 86 
 91 
 98 
 101 
 106 
 
iV CONTENTS. 
 
 PART THE SECOND. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Advertisement by the Editor - - - 115 
 
 CHAPTEU 
 
 I. Suppression of my Work on Germany. 
 
 — Banishment from France - - 125 
 II. Return to Coppet. — Diflferent Persecu- 
 tions 138 
 
 — III. Journey in Switzerland with M. de 
 
 Montmorency - - - - 146 
 IV. Exile ofM. de Montmorency and Ma- 
 dame Recamier. — New Persecutions 1 55 
 V. Departure from Coppet - - - 165 
 VI. Passage through Austria; 1812 - - 175 
 VII. Residence at Vienna - - - 183 
 VIII. Departure from Vienna - - - 189 
 IX. Passage through Poland - - - 199 
 X. Arrival in Russia - - - - 206 
 
 XI. Kiow 209 
 
 XII. Road from Kiow to Moscow - -216 
 
 XIII. Appearance of the Country. — Charac- 
 
 ter of the Russians - - - 221 
 
 XIV. Moscow - - - - - - 226 
 
 XV. Road from Moscow to Petersburg - 236 
 
 XVI. St. Petersburg - - - - 238 
 
 XVII. The Imperial Family - - - 248 
 XVIIl. Manners of the great Russian Nobility 264 
 XIX. Establishments for Public Education. — 
 
 Institute of St. Catherine - -261 
 
 XX. Departure for Sweden. Passage 
 
 through Finland - - - - 272 
 
PREFACE 
 
 BY THE EDITOR, 
 
 The production which is now submitted 
 to the reader, is not a complete work, and 
 ought not to be criticised as such. It con- 
 sists of Fragments of her Memoirs, which 
 my mother had intended to complete at her 
 leisure, and which would have probably un- 
 dergone alterations, of the nature of which I 
 am ignorant, if a longer life had been allowed 
 her to revise and finish them. This reflec- 
 tion was sufficient to make me examine most 
 scrupulously if I vt^as authorized to give them 
 publicity. The fear of any sort of respon- 
 sibility cannot be present to the mind, when 
 our dearest affections are in question; but 
 the heart is agitated by a painful anxiety 
 when we are left to guess at those wishes, 
 the declaration of which would have been a 
 sacred and invariable rule. Nevertheless. 
 
 * Aug-ustus, Baron de Stael-Holstein. 
 2 
 
VI PREFACE 
 
 after having seriously reflected en what duty 
 required of me, I am satisfied that I have 
 fulfilled my mother's intentions, in engaging 
 to leave out in this edition of her works,* no 
 reduction susceptible of being printed. My 
 fidelity in adhering to this engagement gives 
 me the right of disavowing before hand, all 
 which at any future period, persons might 
 pretend to add to this collection, which, I 
 repeat, contains every thing, of which my 
 mother had not formally forbid the publica- 
 tion. 
 
 The title of Ten Years' Exile, is that of 
 which the authoress herself made choice ; I 
 have deemed it proper to retain it, although 
 the w^ork, being unfinished, comprises only 
 a period of seven years. The narrative be- 
 gins in 1800, two years previous to my 
 mother's first exile, and stops at 1804, after 
 the death of M. Necker. It recommences 
 in 1810, and breaks off abruptly at her arri- 
 val in Sweden, in the autumn of 1812. Be- 
 
 * Les (Euvres completes de Madame la Baronne de Stael, 
 publiees par son Fils. Precedees d'une notice sur le carac- 
 tere et les Merits de Madame de Stael, par Madame Necker 
 de Saussure. Paris ^ 17 vols. 8vo. and 17 vols. 12mo. 
 
BY THE EDITOR. Vll 
 
 tween the first and second part of these 
 Memoirs there is therefore an interval of 
 nearly six years. An explanation of this 
 will be found in a faithful statement of the 
 manner in which they were composed. 
 
 I will not anticipate my mother's narra- 
 tive of the persecution to which she was sub- 
 jected during the imperial government : that 
 persecution, equally mean and cruel, forms 
 the subject of the present publication, the 
 interest of which I should only weaken. It 
 will be sufficient for me to remind the reader, 
 that after having exiled her from Paris, and 
 subsequently sent her out of France — after 
 having suppressed her work on Germany 
 with the most arbitrary caprice, and made it 
 impossible for her to publish any thing, even 
 on subjectss wdiolly unconnected with poli- 
 tics ; that government went so far as to make 
 her almost a prisoner in her own residence, 
 to forbid her all kind of travelling, and to 
 deprive her of the pleasures of society and 
 the consolations of friendship. It was while 
 she was in this situation that my mother be- 
 gan her Memoirs, and one may readily con- 
 
Viii PREFACE 
 
 eeive what must have been at that time the 
 disposiiion of her mind. 
 
 During the composition of the work, the 
 hope of one day giving it to the world scarce- 
 ly presented itself in the most distant futuri- 
 ty. Europe was still bent to that degree 
 under the yoke of Napoleon, that no inde- 
 pendent voice could make itself be heard ; 
 on the Continent the press was completely 
 chained, and the most rigorous measures 
 excluded every v/ork printed in England. 
 My mother thought less, therefore, of com- 
 posing a book, than of preserving the traces 
 of her recollections and ideas. Along with 
 the narrative of circumstances personal to 
 herself, she incorporated wdth it various re- 
 flections which were suggested to her, from 
 the beginning of Bonaparte's power, by the 
 state of France, and the progress of events. 
 But if the printing such a work w^ould at 
 that time have been an act of unheard of 
 temerity, the mere act of writing it required 
 a great deal of both courage and prudence, 
 particularly in the position in which she was 
 placed. My mother had every reason to be- 
 
BY THE EDITOR. fX 
 
 lieve that all her movements were narrowly 
 watched by the police : the prefect who had 
 replaced M. de Barante at Geneva, pretended 
 to be acquainted with every thing that pass- 
 ed in her house, and the least pretence would 
 have been sufficient to induce them to pos- 
 sess themselves of her papers. She was 
 obliged, therefore, to take the greatest pre- 
 cautions. Scarcely had she written a 
 few pages, when she made one of her 
 most intimate friends transcribe them, taking 
 care to substitute for the proper names those 
 of persons taken from the history of the En- 
 glish Revolution. Under this disguise she 
 carried off her manuscript, when in 1812 she 
 determined to withdraw herself bv tlhAit 
 from the rigors of a constantly increasing 
 persecution. 
 
 On her arrival in Sweden, after having 
 travelled through Russia, and narrowly es- 
 caped the French armies advancing on Mos- 
 cow, my mother employed herself in copy- 
 ing out fairly the first part of her Memoirs, 
 which, as I have already mentioned, goes no 
 farther than 1 804. But prior to continuing 
 them in the order of time, she wished to take 
 
X PREFACE 
 
 advantage of the moment, during which her 
 recollections were still strong, to give a nar- 
 rative of the remarkable circumstances of her 
 flight, and of the persecution which had ren- 
 dered that step in a manner a duty. She 
 resumed, therefore, the history of her life at 
 the year 1810, the epoch of the suppression 
 of her work on Germany^ and continued it up 
 to her arrival at Stockholm in 1812: from 
 that was suggested the title of Ten Years'^ 
 Exile, This explains also, why, in speaking 
 of the imperial government, my mother ex- 
 presses herself sometimes as living under its 
 power, and at other times, as having escaped 
 from it. 
 
 Finally, after she had conceived the plan 
 of her Consider a f-ions on the French Revolu- 
 tion, she extracted from the first part of Ten 
 Years'^ Exile, the historical passages and 
 2:eneral reflections which entered into her new 
 design, reserving the individual details for the 
 period when she calculated on finishing the 
 memoirs of her life, ^nd when she flattered 
 herself with being able to name all the persons 
 of whom she had received generous proofs of 
 friendship, without being afraid of compro- 
 
BY THE EDITOR. xi 
 
 mising them by the expressions of her grati- 
 tude. 
 
 The manuscript confided to my charge 
 consisted therefore of two distinct parts : the 
 first, the perusal of which necessarily offer- 
 ed less interest, contained several passages 
 already incorporated in the Comiderations 
 on the French Revolution ; the other formed 
 a sort of journal, of which no part was yet 
 known to the public. I have followed the 
 plan traced by my mother, by striking out of 
 the first part of the manuscript, all the passages 
 which, with some modifications, have already 
 found a place in her great political work. 
 To this my labour as editor has been confin- 
 ed, and I have not allowed myself to make 
 the slightest addition. 
 
 The second part I deliver to the public 
 exactly as I found it, without the least 
 alteration ; and I have scarcely felt myself 
 entitled to make slight corrections of the 
 style, so important did it appear to me to 
 preserve in this sketch the entire vividness 
 of its original character. A perusal of the 
 opinions which she pronounces upon the 
 
XU PREFACE 
 
 political conduct of Russia, will satisfy 
 every one of my scrupulous respect for my 
 mother's manuscript ; but without taking 
 into account the influence of gratitude on 
 elevated minds, the reader will not fail to re- 
 collect, that at that time the sovereign of Rus- 
 sia was fighting in the cause of liberty and 
 independence. Was it possible to foresee 
 that so few years would elapse before the 
 immense forces of that empire should 
 become the instruments of the oppression 
 of unhappy Europe ? 
 
 If we compare the Ten Years'^ Exile with 
 the Considerations on the French RevoIutio7i, 
 it will perhaps be found that the reign of 
 Napoleon is criticised in the first of these 
 works with greater severity than in the other, 
 and that he is there attacked with an elo- 
 quence not always exempt from bitterness. 
 This difference may be easily explained : 
 one of these works was written after the fall 
 of the despot, with the calm and impartiality 
 of the historian ; the other was inspired by 
 a courageous feeling of resistance to tyran- 
 ny ; and at the period of its composition, the 
 imperial power was at its height. 
 
BY THE EDITOR. XIII 
 
 I have not selected one moment in pre- 
 ference to another for the publication of 
 Ten Years'^ Exile; the chronological order 
 has been followed in this edition, and the 
 posthumous works are naturally placed at 
 the end of the collection. In other respects, 
 I am not afraid of the charge of exhibiting a 
 want of generosity, in publishing, after the 
 fall of Napoleon, attacks directed against 
 his power. She, whose talents were always 
 devoted to the defence of the noblest of 
 causes—she, whose house was successively 
 the asylum of the oppressed of all parties, 
 would have been too far above such a re- 
 proach. It could only be addressed, at all 
 events, to the editor of the Ten Years'^ 
 Exile; but I confess it would but very little 
 affect me. It would certainly be assigning 
 too fine a part to despotism, if, after having 
 imposed the silence of terror during its 
 triumph, it could call upon history to spare 
 it after its destruction. 
 
 The recollections of the last government 
 have no doubt afforded a pretence for a great 
 deal of persecution ; no doubt men of integ- 
 
XlV PREFACE 
 
 rity have revolted at the cowardly invectives 
 which are still permitted against those, who 
 having enjoyed the favours of that govern- 
 ment, have had sufficient dignity not to 
 disavow their past conduct; finally, there 
 is no doubt but fallen grandeur captivates 
 the imagination. But it is not merely the 
 personal character of Napoleon that is here 
 in question ; it is not he who can now be 
 an object of animadversion to generous 
 minds ; no more can it be those who, under 
 his reign, have usefully served their country 
 in the different branches of the public ad- 
 ministration : but that which we can never 
 brand with too severe a stigma, is the system 
 of selfishness and oppression of which Bo- 
 naparte is the author. But is not this 
 deplorable system still in full sway in 
 Europe ? and have not the powerful of 
 the earth carefull}^ gathered up the shameful 
 inheritance of him whom they have over- 
 thrown ? And if we turn our eyes toward 
 our own country, how many of these in- 
 struments of Napoleon do we not see, who, 
 after having fatigued him with their servile 
 
BY THE EDITOR. . XT 
 
 complaisance, have come to offer to a new 
 power the tribute of their petty machiavel- 
 ism? Now, as then, is it not upon the 
 basis of vanity and corruption that the 
 whole edifice of their paltry science rests, 
 and is it not from the traditions of the 
 imperial government that the counsels of 
 their wisdom are extracted ? 
 
 In painting in stronger colours, therefore, 
 this fatal government, we are not insulting 
 over a fallen enemy, but attacking a still pow- 
 erful adversary ; and if, as I hope, the Ten 
 Years* Exile are destined to increase the 
 horror of arbitrary governments, I may 
 venture to indulge the pleasing idea, that 
 by their publication I shall be rendering a 
 service to the sacred cause to which my 
 mother never ceased to be faithful. 
 
TEN YEAR'S EXILE 
 
 PART THE FIRST. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Causes of Bonaparte's animosity against me. 
 
 It is not with the view of occupying the public 
 attention with what relates to myself, that I have 
 determined to relate the circumstances of my ten 
 years' exile ; the miseries which I have endured, 
 however bitterly I may have felt them, are so trifling 
 in the midst of the public calamities of which we are 
 witnesses, that I should be ashamed to speak of my- 
 self, if the events which concern me were not in 
 some degree connected with the great cause of 
 threatened humanity. The Emperor Napoleon, 
 whose character exhibits itself entire in every action 
 of his life, has persecuted me with a minute anxiety, 
 with an ever increasing activity, with an inflexible 
 rudeness ; and my connections with him contributed 
 to make him known to me, long before Europe 
 had discovered the key of the enigma. 
 
 I shall not here enter into a detail of the events 
 that preceded the appearance of Bonaparte upon 
 the political stage of Europe ; if I accomplish the 
 design I have of writing the life of my father, I will 
 there relate what I have witnessed of the early part 
 
IS TEN YEARS^ EXILE. 
 
 of the revolution, whose influence has changed the 
 fate of the whole world. My object at present is 
 only to retrace what relates to myself in this vast 
 picture ; in casting from that narrow point of view 
 some general surveys over the whole, i flatter my- 
 self with being frequently overlooked, in relating 
 my own history. 
 
 The greatest grievance which the Emperor Na- 
 poleon has against me, is the respect w hich I have 
 always entertained for real liberty. These senti- 
 ments have been in a manner transmitted to me as 
 an inheritance, and adopted as my own, ever since 
 I have been able to reflect on the lofty ideas from 
 which they are derived^ and the noble actions which 
 they inspire. The cruel scenes which have dis- 
 honoured the French revolution, proceeding only 
 from tyranny under popular forms, could not, it ap- 
 pears to me, do any injury to the cause of liberty : 
 at the most, we could only feel discouraged with re- 
 spect to Fronce ; but if that country had the mis- 
 fortune not to know how to possess that noblest of 
 blessings, it ought not on that account to be pro- 
 scribed from the face of the earth. When the sun 
 disappears from the horizon of the Northern regions, 
 the inhabitants of those countries do not curse his 
 rays, because they are still shining upon others 
 more favoured by heaven. 
 
 Shortly after the 18th Brumaire, Bonaparte had 
 heard that I had been speaking strongly in my own 
 parties, against that dawning oppression, whose 
 progress I foresaw as clearly as if the future had 
 been revealed to me. Joseph Bonaparte, whose 
 understanding and conversation I liked very much, 
 came to see me, and told me, " My brother com- 
 plains of you. Why, said he to me yesterday, why 
 
TEN YEARS* EXILE. 19 
 
 does not Madame de Stael attach herself to my 
 government f what is it she wants f the payment of 
 the deposit of her father ? I will give orders for it : 
 a residence in Paris ? I will allow it her. In short, 
 what is it she wishes ?" *' Good God !" replied I, 
 *' it is not what I wish, bat wimt I think, that is in 
 question." I know not if this answer was reported 
 to him, but if it was, 1 am certain that he attached no 
 meaning to it ; for he believes in the sincerity of 
 no one's ophiions ; lie considers every kind of mo- 
 rality as nothing more than a form, to which no 
 more meaning is attached than to the conclusion of 
 a letter; and as the having assured any one that 
 you are his most humble servant would not entide 
 him to ask any thing of you, so if any one says that 
 he is a lover of liberty, — that he believes in God, — 
 that he prefers his conscience to his interest, Bo- 
 naparte considers such professions only as an ad- 
 herence to custom, or as the regular means of for- 
 warding ambitious views or selfish calculations. 
 The only class of human beings whom he cannot 
 well comprehend, are those who are sincerely at- 
 tached to an opinion, whatever be the consequences 
 of it : such persons Bonaparte looks upon as boo- 
 bies, or as traders who outstand their market, that 
 is to say, who would sell themselves too dear. 
 Thus, as we shall see in the sequel, has he never 
 been deceived in his calculations but by integrity, 
 encountered either in individuals or nations. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Commencement of opposition in the Tribunate ^^-^ 
 My first persecution on that account*— FouChe, 
 
 Some of the tribunes who attached a real mean- 
 ing to the consiitution, were desirous of establish- 
 ing in their assembly an opposition analogous to 
 that of England ; as if the rights which that con- 
 stitution professed to secure had any thing of reali- 
 ty in them, and the pretended division of the bo- 
 dies of the state were any thing more than a mere 
 affair of etiquette^ a distinction between the differ- 
 ent anti-chambers of the first-consul, in which ma- 
 gistrates under different names could hold together. 
 I confess that I saw with pleasure the aversion en- 
 tertained by a small number of the tribunes, to rival 
 the counsellors of state in servility. I had especi- 
 ally a strong belief that those who had previously 
 allowed themselves to be carried too far in their 
 love for the republic, would continue faithful to 
 their opinions, when they became the weakest, and 
 the most threatened. 
 
 One of these tribunes, a friend of liberty, and en- 
 dowed with one of the most remarkable under- 
 standings ever bestowed upon man, M. Benjamin 
 CoiiStant, consulted me upon a speech which he 
 purposed to deliver, for the purpose of signalizing 
 the dawn of tyranny : I encouraged him in it with 
 all the strength of my conviction. However, as it 
 was well known that he was one of my intimate 
 friendsj I could not help dreading what might hap- 
 
TEN years' exile. 21 
 
 pen to me in consequence. I was vulnerable in my 
 taste for society. Montaigne said formerly, / am 
 a Frenchnaa through Paris : and if lie thought 
 so three centuries ago, what must it be iiow, when 
 we see so many persons of extraordinary intellect 
 collected io one city, and so many accustomed to 
 employ that intellect in adding to the pleasures of 
 conversation. The demon of ennui has alwa^^s 
 pursued me ; by the terror with which he inspires 
 me. I could alone have been capable of bending the 
 knee to tyran 'V, if the example of my father, and 
 his blood which flows in my veins, had not ena- 
 bled me to triumph over this weakness. Be that 
 as it may, Bonaparte knew this foible of mine per- 
 fectly : he discerns quickly the weak side of any 
 one ; for it is by their weaknesses that he subju- 
 gates people to his sway. To the power with which 
 he threatens, to the treasures with which he dazzles, 
 he joins the dispensation of ennui, and tiiat is a 
 source of real terror to the French. A residence 
 at forty leagues from the capital, contrasted with 
 the advantages collected in the most agreeable city 
 in the world, fails not in the long run to shake the 
 greater part of exiles, habituated from their infan- 
 cy to the charms of a Parisian life. 
 
 On the eve of the day when Benjamin Constant 
 was to deliver his speech, I ha i a party, among 
 whom were Lucien Bonaparte, MM. ***, ***, *5<'^j 
 ***, and several others, whose conversation in dif- 
 ferent degrees possesses that constant novelty of 
 interest which is produced by the strength of ideas 
 and the grace of expression. Every one of these 
 persons, with the exception of Lucien, tired of be- 
 ing proscribed by the directory, was preparing to 
 serve the new government, requiring only to be 
 
 3* 
 
22 TEN years' exile. 
 
 well rewarded for their devotion to its power. Ben- 
 jauiin Constant came up and whispered to me, 
 " \'o»r drawing room is now filled with persons 
 w'vlx whom you are pleased : if I speak, to-morrow 
 it will be deserted : — think well of it." " We must 
 follow our conviction,'' said I to him. This reply 
 was dictated by enthusiasm ; but, I confess, if I 
 had foreseen what I have suffered since that day, I 
 should not have had the firmness to refuse M Con- 
 stant's offer of renouncing his project, in order not 
 lo compromise me. 
 
 At present, so far as opinion is affected, it is 
 nothing to incur the disgrace of Bonaparte : he 
 may make you perish, but he cannot deprive you 
 of respect. Then, on the contrary, France was not 
 enlightened as to his tyrannical views, and as all 
 who had suffered from the revolution expected to 
 obtain from him the return of a brother, or a friend, 
 or the restoration of property, any one who was 
 bold enough to resist lam was branded with the 
 name of Jacobin, and you were deprived of good 
 society along with the countenance of the govern- 
 ment : an intolerable situation, particularly for a 
 woman, and of which no one can know the mise- 
 ry without having experienced it. 
 
 On the da}' when the signal of opposition was 
 exhibited in the tribunate by ray friend, I had in- 
 vited several persons whose society I was fond of, 
 but all of whom were attached to the new govern- 
 ment. At five o'clock I had received ten notes of 
 apology ; the first and second 1 bore tolerably well, 
 but as they succeeded each other "rapidly, I began 
 to be alarmed. In vain did I appeal to my con- 
 science, which advised me to renounce all the plea- 
 sures attached to the favour of Bonaparte : I was 
 
TEN tears' exile. 23 
 
 blamed by so many honourable people, that I knew 
 not how to support myself on my own way of think- 
 ing. Bonaparte had as yet done nothing exactly 
 culpable ; many asserted that he preserved France 
 from anarchy : in short, if at that moment he had 
 signified to me any wish of reconciliation, I should 
 have been delighted : but a step of that sort he will 
 never take without exacting a degradation, and, 
 to induce that degradation, he generally enters in- 
 to such passions of authority, as terrify into yield- 
 ing every thing. I do not wish by that to say that 
 Bonaparte is not really pa'^sionate : what is not 
 calculation in him is hatred, and hatred generally 
 expresses itself in rage : but calculation is in him 
 so much the strongest, that he never goes beyond 
 what it is convenient for him to show, according to 
 circumstances and persons- One day a friend of 
 mine saw him storming at a commissary of war, 
 who had not done his duty; scarcely had the poor 
 man retired, trembling with apprehension, when 
 Bonaparte turned round to one of his aides du- 
 camp, and said to him, laughing, 1 hope 1 have 
 given him a fine fright ; and yet the moment be- 
 fore,, you would have believed that he was no lon- 
 ger master of himself. 
 
 When it suited the first consul to exhibit his ill- 
 humour against me, he publicly reproached his bro- 
 ther Joseph for continuing to visit me. Joseph felt 
 it necessary in consequence to absent himself from 
 my house for several weeks, and his example was 
 followed by three- fourths of my acquaintance. 
 Those who had been proscribed on the 1 8ih Fruc- 
 tidor, pretended that at that period I had been 
 guilty of recommending M. de Talleyrand to Bar- 
 raSj for the ministry of foreign affairs : and yet, 
 
^4 TEN years' exile. 
 
 these people were then continually about that same 
 Talleyrand, whom they accused me of having ser- 
 ved. All those who behaved ill to me, were cau- 
 tious in concealing that they did so for fear of in- 
 curring the displeasure of the First Consul. Every 
 day, however, they invented some new pretext to 
 injure me, thus exerting all the energy of their po- 
 litical opinions against a defenceless and persecuted 
 woman, and prostrating themselves at the feet of 
 the vilest Jacobins, the moment the first consul bad 
 regenerated them by the baptism of his favour. 
 
 Fouche, the minister of police, sent for me to 
 say, that the first consul suspected me of having ex- 
 cited my friend who had spoken in the tribunate. I 
 replied to him, which was certainly the truth, that 
 M. Constant was a man of too superior an under- 
 standing to make his opinions matter of reproach 
 to a woman, and that besides, the speech in ques- 
 tion contained absolutely nothing but reflections on 
 the independence which every deliberative assembly 
 ought to possess, and that there was not a word in 
 it wiiich could be construed into a personal reflec- 
 tion on the first consul. The minister admitted as 
 much. I ventured to add some words on the re- ' 
 spect due to the liberty of opinions in a legislative 
 body ; but I could easily perceive that he took no 
 interest in these general considerations ; he already 
 knew perfectly well, that under the authority of the 
 man whom he wished to serve, principles were out 
 ofthe question, and he shaped his conduct accord- 
 ingly But as he is a man of transcendant under- 
 standing in matters of revolution, he had already 
 laid it down as a system to do the least evil possible, 
 the necessity of the object admitted. His preceding 
 conduct certainly exhibited little feeling of morality. 
 
TEN years' exile. 25 
 
 and he was frequently in the habit of talking of 
 virtue as an old woman's story. A remarkable sa- 
 gacity, however, always led him to choose the good 
 as a reasonable thing, and his intelligence made 
 him occasionally do what conscience would have 
 dictated to others. He advised me to go into the 
 country, and assured me, that in a few days, all 
 would be quieted. But at ray return, I was very 
 far from finding it so. 
 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 System of fusion adopted by Bonaparte. — Publica- 
 tion of my work on Liter ahirt* 
 
 While we have seen the Christian kings take two 
 confessors to examine their consciences more nar- 
 rowly, Bonaparte chose two ministers, one of tlie 
 old and the other of the new regime, whose busi- 
 ness it was to place at iiis disposal the Machiavelian 
 means of two opposite systeais. In all his nomi- 
 nations, Bonaparte followed nearlj^ the same rule, 
 of taking, as it may be said, now from the right, 
 and now from the left, that is to say, choosing alter- 
 nately his officers among the aristocrats, and among 
 the jacobins : the middle party, that of the friends 
 of liberty, pleased him less than all the others, com- 
 posed as it was of the small numbers of persons, 
 who in France, had an opinion of their own. He 
 liked much better to have to do with persons who 
 were attached to royalist interests, or who had be- 
 come stigmatized by popular excesses. He even 
 went so far as to wish to name as a counsellor of 
 state a conventionalist sullied with the vilest crimes 
 of the days of terror ; but he was diverted from it 
 by the shuddering of those who would have had to 
 sit along with him. Bonnparte would have been 
 delighted to have given that shining proof that he 
 could regenerate, as well as confound, every thing. 
 
 What particularly characterizes the government 
 
TEN years' exile. 27 
 
 of Bonaparte, is his profound contempt for the in- 
 tellectual riches of human nature ; virtue, mental 
 dignity, religion, enthusiasm — these, these are in his 
 eyes, the ete^^Lal enemies of the continent^ to make 
 use of his favorite expression ; he would reduce man 
 to force and cunning, and designate every thing 
 else as folly or stupidity. The English particularly 
 irritate him, as they have found the means of being 
 honest, as well as successful, a thing which Bona- 
 parte would have us regard as impossible. This 
 shining point of the world has dazzled his eyes from 
 the very first days of his reign. 
 
 I do not believe, that when Bonaparte put him- 
 self at the head of affairs, he had formed the plan 
 of universal monarchy ; but 1 believe that his sj^s- 
 tem was, what he himself described it a kw days 
 after the 18th Brumaire to one of my friends : 
 '• Something new must be done every three months, 
 to captivate the imagination of the French Nation ; 
 with them, whoever stands still is ruined." He 
 flattered himself with being able to make daily en- 
 croachments on the liberty of France, and the in- 
 dependence of Europe ', but, without losing sight of 
 the end, he knew how to accommodate himself to 
 circumstances : when the obstacle was too great, he 
 passed by it, and stopped short when the contrary 
 wind blew too strongly. This man, at bottom so 
 impatient, has the faculty of remaining immoveable 
 when necessary ; he derives that from the Italians, 
 who know how to restrain themselves in order to 
 attain the object of their passion, as if they were 
 perfectly cool in the choice of that object. It is by 
 the alternate employment of cunning ai.)d force, 
 diat he has subjugated Europe ; but, to be sure, 
 Europe is but a word of great sound. In what did 
 
28 TEN years' exile. 
 
 it then consist ? In a few ministers, not one of 
 whom had as much understanding as many men 
 taken at hap-hazard from the nation which they 
 governed. 
 
 Toward the spring of 1800, I published my 
 work on Literature, and the success it met with re- 
 stored me completely to favour with society ; my 
 drawing room became again filled, and I had once 
 more the pleasure of conversing — and conversing in 
 Paris, which, I confess, has always been to me the 
 most fascinating of all pleasures. There was not a 
 word about Bonaparte in my book, and the most 
 liberal sentiments were, I believe, forcibly expressed 
 in it. But the press was then far from being en- 
 slaved as it is at present ; the government exercised 
 a censorship upon newspapers, but not upon books; 
 a distinction which might be supported, if the cen- 
 sorship had been used with moderation : for news- 
 papers exert a popular influence, while books, for 
 the greater part, are only read by well informed 
 people, and may enlighten, butnot inflame opinion. 
 At a later period, there were established in the se- 
 nate, I believe in derision, a committee for the liberty 
 of the press, and another for personal liberty, the 
 members of which are still renewed every three 
 months. Certainly the bishopricks in partihus, and 
 the sinecures in England, afford more employment 
 than these committees. 
 
 Since my work on Literature, I have published 
 Delphine, Corinne, and, finally, my work on Ger- 
 many, which was suppressed at the moment it was 
 about to make its appearance. But although this 
 last work has occasioned me the most bitter perse- 
 cution, literature does not appear to me to be less 
 a source of enjoyment and respect, even for a fe- 
 
TEN years' exile, 29 
 
 male. What I have suffered in life, I attribute to 
 the circumstances which associated me, almost at 
 my entry into the world, with the interests of liberty, 
 which were supported by my father and his friends ; 
 but the kind of talent which has made me talked of 
 as a writer, has always been to me a source of 
 greater pleasure than pain. The criticisms of 
 which one's works are the objects, can be very easily 
 borne, when one is possessed of some elevation of 
 soul, and when one is more attached to noble ideas 
 for themselves, than for the success which their 
 promulgation can procure us. Besides, the public, 
 at the end of a certain time, appears to me always 
 equitable ; self-love must accustom itself to do credit 
 to praise ; for in due time, we obtain as much of 
 that as we deserve. Finally, if we should have even 
 to complain long of injustice, I conceive no better 
 asylum against it than philosophical meditation, 
 and the emotion of eloquence. These faculties 
 place at our disposal a whole world of truths and 
 sentiments, in which we can breathe at perfect free- 
 dom. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Conversation of my father with Bonaparte, — Cam- 
 paign of Marengo, 
 
 B0NAPA.RTE set out in the spring of 1800, to make 
 the campaign of Italy, which was distinguished by 
 the battle of Marengo. He went by Geneva, and 
 as he expressed a desire to see M. Necker, my fa- 
 ther waited upon him, more with the hope of ser- 
 ving me, than from any other motive. Bonaparte 
 received him extremely well, and talked to him of 
 his plans of the moment, with that sort of confi- 
 dence vvhi<ih is in his character, or rather in his cal- 
 culation J for it is thus we must always style his 
 character. My father, at first seeing him, experi- 
 enced nothing of the impression which I did ; he 
 felt no restraint in his presence, and found nothing 
 extraordinary in his conversation. I have endea- 
 voured to account to myself for this difference in 
 our opinions of the same person ; and, I believe, 
 that it arose, first, because the simple and unaffect- 
 ed dignity of ray father's manners ensured him the 
 respect of all who conversed with him ; and second, 
 because the kind of superiority attached to Bona- 
 parte proceeding more from ability in evil action, 
 than from the elevation of good thoughts, his con- 
 versation cannot make us conceive what distin- 
 guisiies him ; he neither could nor would explain his 
 own xMachiavelian inslinct. My father uttered not 
 a word to him of his two millions deposited in the 
 public treasury ; he did not wish to appear inte- 
 
TEN years' exile. 31 
 
 rested but for me, and said to him, among other 
 things, that as the first consul loved to surround 
 himself with illustrious names, he ought to feel fequal 
 pleasure in encouraging persons of celebrated ta- 
 lent, as the ornament of his power. Bonaparte 
 replied to him very obligingly, and the result of 
 this conversation ensured me, at least for some time 
 longer, a residence in France. This was the last 
 occasion when my father's protecting hand was ex- 
 tended over my existence ; he has not been a wit- 
 ness of the cruel persecution I have since endured, 
 and which would have irritated him even more than 
 myself. 
 
 Bonaparte repaired to Lausanne to prepare the 
 expedition of Mount St. Bernard ; the old Austrian 
 general could not believe in the possibility of so 
 bold an enterprise, and in consequence made inad- 
 equate preparations to oppose it. It was said, that 
 a small body of troops would have been sufficient 
 to destroy the whole French army in the midst of 
 the mountainous passes, through which Bonaparte 
 led it ; but in this, as well as in several other instan- 
 ces, the following verses of J. B. Rousseau might 
 be very well applied to the triumphs of Bonaparte : 
 
 L'inexperience indocile 
 
 Du compagnon de Paul Emile, 
 
 Fit tout le succes d'Annibal. 
 
 (The unruly inexperience of the colleague of 
 Paulus Emilius, vras the cause of all the victories 
 of Hannibal.) 
 
 I arrived in Switzerland to pass the summer 
 according to custom with my father, nearly about 
 the time when the French army was crossing the 
 Alps, Large bodies of troops were seen continu- 
 
35 TEN years' exile. 
 
 ally passing through these peaceful countrie?, 
 which the majestic boundary of the Alps ought 
 to shelter fronn political storms. In these beau- 
 tiful summer evenings, on the borders of the lake 
 of Geneva, I was almost ashamed, in the presence 
 of that beautiful sky and pure water, of the dis- 
 quietude 1 felt respecting the affairs of this world: 
 but it was impossible for me to overcome my in- 
 ternal agitation : I could not help wishing that 
 Bonaparte might be beaten, as that seemed the 
 only means of stopping the progress of his tyran- 
 ny. I durst not, however, avow this wish, and 
 the prefect of the Leman, M. Eymar, (an old 
 deputy to the Constituent Assembly,) recollect- 
 ing the period when we cherished together the 
 hope of liberty, was continually sending me cou- 
 riers to inform me of the progress of the French 
 in Italy. It would have been difficult for me to 
 make M. Eymar, (who was, in other respects, a 
 most interesting character,) comprehend that the 
 happiness of France required that her army should 
 then meet with reverses, and I received the sup- 
 posed good news which he sent me, with a degree 
 of restraint which was very little in unison with 
 my character. Was it necessary since that to be 
 continually hearing of the triumphs of him who 
 made his successes fall indiscriminately upon the 
 heads of all ? and out of so many victories, has 
 there ever arisen a single gleam of happiness for 
 poor France ? 
 
 The battle of Marengo was lost for a couple of 
 hours : the negligence of General Melas, who 
 trusted too much to the advantages he had gain- 
 ed, and the audacity of General Desaix, restored 
 the victory to the French arms. While the fate 
 
TEN years' exile. 33 
 
 of the battle was almost desperate, Bonaparte 
 rode about slowly on horseback, pensive, and 
 looking downward, more courageous against dan- 
 ger than misfortune, attempting nothing, but 
 waiting the turn of the wheel. He has behaved 
 several times in a similar way, and has found his 
 advantage in it. But I cannot help always think- 
 ing, that if Bonaparte had fairly encountered 
 among his adversaries a man of character and 
 probity, he would have been stopped short in his 
 career. His great talent lies in terrifying the 
 feeble, and availing himself of unprincipled cha- 
 racters. When he encounters honour any where, 
 it may be said that his artifices are disconcert- 
 ed, as evil spirits are conjured by the si^n of the 
 cross. 
 
 The armistice which was the result of (he bat- 
 tle of Marengo, the conditions of which included 
 the cession of all the strong places in the North 
 of Italy, was most disadvantageous to Austria. 
 Bonaparte could not have gained more by a suc- 
 cession of victories. But it might be said that 
 the continental powers appeared to consider it 
 honourable to give up what would have been 
 worth still more if they had allowed them to be 
 taken. They made haste to sanction the injus- 
 tice of Napoleon, and to legitimate his conquests, 
 while they ought, if they could not conquer, at 
 least not to have seconded him. This certainly 
 was not asking too much of the old cabinets of 
 Europe ; but they knew not how to conduct them- 
 selves in so novel a situation, and Bonaparte con- 
 founded them so much by the union of promises 
 and threats, that in giving up, they believed they 
 
 were gaining, and rejoiced at the word peace, as 
 
 4* 
 
34 TEN YEARS* EXtLi* 
 
 much as if this word had preserved its old signi- 
 fication. The illuminations, the reverences, the 
 dinners, the firing of cannon to celebrate this 
 peace, were exactly the same as formerly : hut 
 far from cicatrizing the wounds, it introduced in- 
 to the government which signed it a most certain 
 and effectual principle of dissolution. 
 
 The most remarkable circumstance in the for- 
 tune of Napoleon is the sovereigns whom he found 
 upon the throne. Paul I. particularly did him in- 
 calculable service 5 he had the same enthusiasm 
 for him that his father had felt for Frederic the 
 Second, and he abandoned Austria at the moment 
 when she was still attempting to struggle. Bona- 
 parte persuaded him that the whole of Europe 
 would be pacified for centuries, if the two great 
 empires of the East and West were agreed ; and 
 Paul, who had something chivalrous in his dispo- 
 sition, allowed himself to be entrapped by these 
 fallacies. It was an extraordinary piece of good 
 fortune in Bonaparte to meet with a crowned 
 head so easily duped, and who united violence 
 and weakness in such equal degrees : no one, 
 therefore, regretted Paul more than he did, for 
 no one was ii so important to him to deceive. 
 
 Lucien, the minister of the interior, who was 
 perfectly acquainted with his brother's schemes, 
 caused a pamphlet to be published, with the view 
 of preparing men's minds for the establishment of a 
 new dynasty. This publication was premature, and 
 had a bad effect ; Fouche availed himself of it to 
 ruin Lucien. He persuaded Bonaparte that the se- 
 cret was revealed too soon, and the republican 
 party, that Bonaparte disavowed what his brother 
 had done. In consequence Lucien was then sent 
 
TEN years' exile, 35 
 
 ambassador to Spain. The system of Bonaparte 
 was to advance gradually in the road to power ; 
 he was constantly spreading rumours of the plans 
 he had in agitation, in order to feel the public opi- 
 nion. Generally even he was anxious to have his 
 projects exaggerated, in order that the thing itself, 
 when it took place, might be a softening of the ap- 
 prehension which had circulated in public' The 
 vivacity of Lucien on this occasion carried him too 
 far, and Bonaparte judged it advisable to sacrifice 
 him to appearances for some time. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 The infernal machine, — Peace of Luneville, 
 
 I retarned to Paris in the month of November, 
 1800. Peace was not yet made, although Moreau 
 by his victories had rendered it more and more ne- 
 cessary to the allied powers. Has he not since re- 
 gretted the laurels of Stockach and Hohenlinden, 
 when France has not been less enslaved than Eu- 
 rope, over which he made her triumph ? Moreau 
 recognized only his country in the orders of the 
 first consul ; but such a man ought to have formed 
 his opinion of the government which employed him, 
 and to have acted under such circumstances, upon 
 his own view of the real interests of his country. 
 Still, it must be allowed that at the period of the 
 most brilliant victories of Moreau, that is to say, in 
 the autumn of ISOO, there were but few persons 
 who had penetrated the secret projects of Bonaparte ; 
 what was evident at a distance, was the improve- 
 ment of the finances, and the restoration of order in 
 several branches of the administration. Napoleon 
 was obliged to begin by the good to arrive at the 
 bad ; he was obliged to increase the French army, 
 before he could employ it for the purposes of his 
 personal ambition. 
 
 One evening when I was conversing with some 
 friends, we heard a very loud explosion, but suppo- 
 sing it to be merely the firing of some cannon by 
 way of exercise, we paid no attention to it, and con- 
 tinued our conversation. We learned a few hours 
 
TEN IZEARS* EXILE. St 
 
 afterwards that in going to the opera, the first con- 
 sul had narrowly escaped being destroyed by the 
 explosion of what has been called the infernal ma- 
 chine. As he escaped, the most lively interest was 
 expressed toward him : philosophers proposed the 
 re-establishment of fire and the wheeel for the pun- 
 ishment of the authors of this outrage ; and he could 
 see on all sides a nation presenting its neck to the 
 yoke. He discussed very coolly at his own house 
 the same evening what would have happened if he 
 had perished. Some persons said that Moreau 
 would have replaced him : Bonaparte pretended 
 that it would have been General Bernadotte. " Like 
 Antony," said he " he would have presented to the 
 inflamed populace the bloody robe of Caesar." I 
 know not if he really believed that France would 
 have then called Bernadotte to the head of affairs, 
 but what I am quite sure of is, that he said so for 
 the purpose ofexciting envy against that general. 
 
 If the infernal machine had been contrived by 
 the jacobins, the first consul might have immedi- 
 ately redoubled his tyranny ; public opinion would 
 have seconded him ; but as this plot proceeded 
 from the royalist party, he could not derive much 
 advantage from it. He endeavoured rather to 
 stifle, than avail himself of it, as he wished the 
 nation to believe that his enemies w^ere only the 
 enemies of order, and not the friends of another 
 order, that is to say, of the old dynasty. What is 
 very remarkable, is, that on the occasion of a roy- 
 alist conspiracy, Bonaparte caused, by a senatus 
 consultum, one hundred and thirty jacobins to be 
 transported to the island of Madagascar, or rather 
 to the bottom of the sea, for they have never been 
 heard of since. This list w^as made in the most 
 
38 TEN years' exile. 
 
 arbitrary manner possible ; names were put upon 
 it, or erased, according to the recommenda^tions 
 of counsellors of state, who proposed, and of se- 
 nators who sanctioned it. Respectable people 
 said, when the manner in which this list had been 
 made was complained of, that it was composed of 
 great criminals ; that might be very true, but it is 
 the right, and not the fact, which constitutes the 
 legality of actions. When the arbitrary trans- 
 portation of one hundred and thirty citizens is 
 submitted to, there is nothing to prevent, as we 
 have since seen, the application of the same treat- 
 ment to the most respectable persons. Public 
 opinion, it is said, will prevent this. Opinion I 
 what is it without the authority of law ? What is 
 it without independent organs to express it ? Opi- 
 nion was in favour of the Duke d'Enghien, in fa- 
 vour of Moreau, in favour of Pichegru :- — was it 
 able to save them ? TJiere will be neither liberty, 
 dignity, nor security, in a country where proper 
 names are discussed when injustice is about to be 
 committed. Every man is innocent until con- 
 demned by a legal tribunal ; and the fate of even 
 the greatest of criminals, if he is withdrawn from 
 the law, ought to make good people tremble in 
 common with others. But, as is the custom in the 
 English House of Commons, when an opposition 
 member goes out, he requests a ministerial mem- 
 ber to pair o^with him, not to alter the strength 
 of either party, Bonaparte never struck the jaco- 
 bins or the royalists, without dividing his blows 
 equally between them ; he thus made friends of 
 all those whose vengeance he served. We shall 
 see, in the sequel, that he always reckoned on the 
 gratification of this passion to consolidate his go- 
 
TEN year's exile. 39 
 
 vernment ; for he knows that it is much more to 
 be depended on than affection. After a revolu- 
 tion, the spirit of party is so bitter, that a new 
 chief can subdue it more by serving its vengeance, 
 than by supporting its interests ; all abandon, if 
 necessary, those who think like themselves, pro- 
 vided they can sacrifice those \%ho think diffe- 
 rently. 
 
 The peace of Luneville was proclaimed 5 Aus- 
 tria only lost in this first peace the republic of 
 Venice, which she had formerly received as an 
 indemnity for Belgium ; and this ancient mistress 
 of the Adriatic, once so haughty and powerful, 
 again passed from one master to the other. 
 
CHAPTER VL 
 
 Corps Diplomatique during the Consulate, — Death 
 ♦=0/* the Emperor Paul. 
 
 I PASSED that winter in Paris very tranquilly. 
 I never went to the first consul's — I never saw M. 
 de Talleyrand. I knew Bonaparte did not like 
 me : but he had not yet reached the degree of ty- 
 ranny which he has since displayed. Foreigners 
 treated me with distinction, — the corps diploma- 
 tique were my constant visiters, — and this European 
 atmosphere served me as a safeguard. 
 
 A minister just arrived from Prussia fancied that 
 the republic still existed, and began by putting for- 
 ward some of the philosophical notions he had ac- 
 quired in his intercourse with Frederick the Great : 
 it was hinted to him that he had quite mistaken his 
 ground, and that he must rather avail himself of 
 his knowledge of courts. He took the hint very 
 quickly, for he is a man whose distinguished pow- 
 ers are in the service of a character particularly 
 supple. He ends the sentence you begin, and be- 
 gins that which he thinks you will end ; and it is 
 only in turning the conversation upon the transac- 
 tions of former ages, on ancient literature, or upon 
 subjects unconnected with persons or things of the 
 present day, that you discover the superiority of 
 his understanding. 
 
 The Austrian Ambassador was a courtier of a 
 totally different stamp, but not less desirous of 
 pleasing the higher powers. Tlie one had all the 
 
TEN years' exile 41 
 
 "inTormation of a literary character ; the other knew 
 nothing of literature beyond the French plays, in 
 which he had acted the parts of Crispin and Chry- 
 salde. It is a known fact, that when ambassador 
 to Catherine II , he once received despatches from 
 his court, when he happened to be dressed as ah 
 old woman ; and it was with difficulty that the cou- 
 rier could be made to recognize his ambassador in 
 that costume. M. de C. was an extremely com- 
 mon-place character; he said the same things to 
 almost every one he met in a drawing room : he 
 spoke to every person with a kind of cordiality in 
 which sentiments and ideas had no part. His man- 
 ners were engaging, and his conversation pretty 
 well formed by the world ; but to send such a man 
 to negotiate with the revolutionary strength and 
 roughness that surrounded Bonaparte, was a most 
 pitiable spectacle. An aide-de-camp of Bonaparte 
 complained of the familiarity of M. de C. ; he was 
 displeased that one of the first noblemen of the Aus- 
 trian monarchy should squeeze his hand without 
 ceremony. These new debutans in politeness could 
 not conceive that ease was in good taste. In truth, 
 if they had been at their ease, they would have 
 committed strange inconsistencies, and arrogant 
 stiffness was much better suited to them in the new 
 part they wished to play. 
 
 Joseph Bonaparte, who negociated the peace of 
 Luneville, invited M. de C. to his charming coun- 
 try seat of Morfontaine, where I happened to meet 
 him. Joseph was extremely fond of rural occupa- 
 tion, and would walk with ease and pleasure in his 
 gardens for eight .hours in succession. M. de C. 
 tried to follow him, more out of breath than the 
 Duke of Mayenne, whom Henry IV. amused him- 
 
 5 
 
42 TEN years' EXILK. 
 
 self with making walkabout, notwithstanding his 
 corpulence. The poor man talked very much of 
 fishing, among the pleasures of the country, because 
 it allowed him to sit down ; he absolutely warmed 
 in speaking of the innocent pleasure of catching 
 some little fish with the line. 
 
 When he was ambassador at Petersburg, Paul I. 
 had treated him with the greatest indignity. He 
 and I were playing at backgammon in the drawing 
 room at Morfonlaine, when one of my friends came 
 in and informed us of the sudden death of that So- 
 vereign. M. de C. immediately began making the 
 most official lamentations possible on this event. 
 *• Although I had reason to complain of him," said 
 be, " I shall always acknowledge the excellent 
 qualities of this prince, and I cannot help regretting 
 his loss." He thought rightly that the death of Paul 
 was a fortunate event for Austria, and for Europe; 
 but he had in his conversation, a court mourning, 
 that was really quite intolerable. It is to be hoped, 
 that the progress of time will rid the world of the 
 courtier spirit, the most insipid of all others, to say 
 nothing more. 
 
 Bonaparte was extremely alarmed at the death of 
 Paul, and it is said, that on that occasion he utter- 
 ed the first — Ah, my God ! that was ever heard to 
 proceed from his lips. He had no reason, however, 
 to disturb himself; for the French were then more 
 disposed to endure tyranny than the Russians. 
 
 I was invited to general Berthier's one day, when 
 the first consul was to be of the party ; and as I 
 knew that he expressed himself very unfavourably 
 about me, it struck me that he might perhaps accost 
 me with some of those rude expressions, which he 
 often took pleasure in addressing to females, even 
 
TEN years' exile. 4S 
 
 to those who paid their court to him ; I wrote down 
 therefore as they occurred to me, before I went to 
 the entertainment, a variety of tart and piquant re- 
 plies which I might make to what I supposed he 
 might say to me. I did not wish to be taken by 
 surprise, if he allowed himself to insult me, for that 
 would have been to show a want both of character 
 and understanding ; and as no person could pro- 
 mise themselves not to be confused in the presence 
 of such a man, I prepared myself before hand to 
 brave him. Fortunately the precaution was unne- 
 cessary ; he only addressed the most common ques- 
 tions possible to me ; and the same thing happened 
 to all of his opponents, to whom he attributed the 
 possibility of replying to him : at all times, how- 
 ever, he never attacks, but when he feels himself 
 much the strongest. During supper, the first con- 
 sul stood behind the chair of Madame Bonaparte, 
 and balanced himself sometimes on one leg, and 
 sometimes on the other, in themanner of the princes 
 of the house of Bourbon. I made my neighbour 
 remark this vocation for myallVs already so 4ticidt'd. 
 
CHAPTER VIL 
 
 Paris in 1801. 
 
 The opposition in the tribunate still continued ; 
 that is to say, about twenty members out of a hun- 
 dred, tried to speak out against the measures of 
 every kind, with which tyranny was preparing. A 
 grand question arose, in the law which gave to the 
 government the fatal power of creating special tri- 
 bunals to try persons accused of state crimes ; as if 
 the handing over a man to these extraordinary tri- 
 bunals, was not already prejudging the question, 
 that is to say, if he is a criminal, and a criminal of 
 state ; and as if, of all crimes, political crimes were 
 not those which required the greatest precaution 
 and independence in the manner of examining 
 them, as the government is in such causes almost 
 always a party interested. 
 
 We have since seen what are the military com- 
 missions to try crimes of state ; and the death 
 of the Duke d'Enghien marks to all, the horror 
 which that hypocritical power ought to inspire, 
 which covers murder with the mantle of the 
 law. 
 
 The resistance of the tribunate, feeble as it 
 was, displeased the first consul ; not that it was 
 any obstacle to his designs, but it kept up the 
 habit of thinking in the nation, which he wished 
 to stiile entirely. He put into the journals, among 
 other things, an absurd argument against the op- 
 position. Nothing is so simple or so proper, was 
 
TEN years' exile. 45 
 
 it there said, as an opposition in England, because 
 the king is the enemy of the people ; but in a 
 country, where the executive government is it- 
 self named by the people, it is opposing the na- 
 tion to oppose its representative. What a number 
 of phrases of this kind have the scribes of Napo- 
 leon deluged the public with for ten years ! In 
 England or America the meanest peasant would 
 laugh in your face at a sophism of this nature ; in 
 France, all that is desired, is to have a phrase 
 ready, with which to give to one's inte^peat the 
 appearance of conviction. 
 
 Very few persons showed themselves strangers 
 to the desire of having places ; a great number 
 were ruined, and the interest of their wives and 
 children, or of their nephews and nieces, if they 
 had no children, or of their cousins, if they had 
 no nephews, obliged them, they said, to seek 
 employment from the government. The great 
 strength of the heads of the state in France, is 
 the prodigious taste that the people have for pla- 
 ces ; vanity even makes them more sought for, 
 than the emolument attached to them. Bona- 
 parte received thousands of petitions for every 
 office, from the highest to the lowest. If he had 
 not had naturally a profound contempt for the hu- 
 man race, he would have conceived it in running 
 over petitions, signed by names illustrious from 
 their ancestry, or celebrated by revolutionary ac- 
 tions in complete opposition to the new functions 
 they were ambitious of fulfilling. 
 
 The winter of 1801 at Paris was made extreme- 
 ly agreeable to me, by the readiness with which 
 Fouche granted the applications I made to him 
 for the return of different emigrants : in this way 
 
 5 
 
46 TEN tears' EX1LE« 
 
 he left me, in the midst of my disgrace, the plea- 
 sure of being useful, and I retain a most grateful 
 recollection to him for it. It must be confessed, 
 that in the actions of women, there is always a 
 little coquetry, and that the greater part of their 
 very virtues are mixed with the desire of pleas- 
 ing, and of being surrounded by friends, whose at- 
 tachment to them is heightened by the feeling of 
 obligation. In this point of view only, can our 
 sex be pardoned for being fond of influence : but 
 there are occasions when we ought even to sa- 
 crifice the pleasure of obliging to preserve our 
 dignity : for we may do every thing for the sake 
 of otheri, excepting to degrade our character. 
 Our own conscience is as it were the treasure of 
 the Almighty, which we are not permitted to make 
 use of for the advantage of others. 
 
 Bonaparte was still at some expense on account 
 of the Institute, upon which he piqued himself so 
 much when he was in Egypt : but there was 
 among the men of letters, and the savans, a petty 
 philosophical opposition, unfortunately of a very 
 bad description, which was entirely directed 
 against the re-establishment of religion. By a 
 fatal caprice, the enlightened spirits in France 
 wished to console themselves for the slavery of 
 this world, by endeavouring to destroy the hopes 
 of abetter : this singular inconsistency would not 
 have happened under the protestant religion; but 
 the catholic clergy had enemies, whom their 
 courage and misfortunes had not yet disarmed ; 
 and perhaps, it is really difficult to make the au- 
 thority of the pope, and of priests subject to the 
 pope, harmonize with the independence of a 
 ^tateo Be that as it may, the Institute exhibited 
 
TEN years' exile. 47 
 
 for religion, independent of its ministers, none of 
 that profound respect, inseparable from a lofty 
 combination of mind and genius ; and Bonaparte 
 was left to support, against men of more value 
 than himself, opinions which were of more value 
 than them. 
 
 In this year, (1801,) the first consul ordered 
 the king of Spain to make war upon Portugal, 
 and the feeble monarch of that illustrious nation 
 condemned his army to this expedition, equally 
 servile and unjust, against a neighbour who had 
 no hostile intentions, and whose only offence was 
 his alliance with that England, which has since 
 shown itself so true a friend to Spain ; and all this 
 in obedience to the man who was preparing to de- 
 prive him of his very existence. When we have 
 seen these same Spaniards giving with so much 
 energy the signal of the resurrection of the world, 
 we learn to know v^hat nations are, and what are 
 the consequences of refusing them a legal means 
 of expressing their opinion, and regulating their 
 own destiny. 
 
 Toward the spring of 1801, the first consul 
 took it into his head to make a king, and a king of 
 the house of Bourbon ; he bestowed Tuscany 
 upon him, designating it by the classical name of 
 Etruria, for the purpose of commencing the grand 
 masquerade of Europe. This infanta of Spain 
 was ordered to Paris for the purpose of exhibiting 
 to the French the spectacle of a prince of the an- 
 cient dynasty humbled before the first consul ; 
 more humbled by his gifts than he ever could have 
 been by his persecution. Bonaparte tried upon 
 this royal lamb the experiment of making a king 
 wait in his antichamber ; he allowed himself to be 
 
48 TEN years' exile. 
 
 applauded at the theatre, upon the recitation of 
 this verse : 
 
 ** J'ai fait des rois, madame, et n'ai pas voulu I'etre :" 
 
 (I have made kings, madam, and have not wished 
 to be one ;) promising himself to be more than a 
 king, when the opportunity should offer. Every 
 day some fresh blunder of this poor king of Etru- 
 ria was the subject of this conversation ; he was 
 taken to the museum, to the Cabinet of Natural 
 History, and some of his questions about quadru- 
 peds and fishes, which a well educated child of 
 twelve years old would have been ashamed to put, 
 were quoted as proofs of intelligence. In the 
 evening he was conducted to entertainments, 
 where the female opera dancers came and mixed 
 with the ladies of the new court ; the little mo- 
 narch, in spite of his devotion, preferred dancing 
 with them, and in return, sent them, next day, 
 presents of elegant and good books for their in- 
 struction. This period of transition from revo- 
 lutionary habits to monarchical pretensions in 
 France, was a most singular one ; as there was as 
 little independence in the one, as dignity in the 
 other, their absurdities harmonised perfectly to- 
 gether ; each of them in their own way formed a 
 group round the parti-coloured potentate, who at 
 the same time employed the forcible me^ins of 
 both regimes. 
 
 For the last time, the 14th of July, the anni- 
 versary of the revolution, was celebrated this 
 year, and a pompous proclamation was put forth 
 to remind the people of the advantages resulting 
 from (hat day, not one of which advantages the 
 
TEN YEJARS' EXILE. 49 
 
 lirst consul had not made up his mind to destroy. 
 Of all the collections that were ever made, that of 
 the proclamations of this man is the most singu- 
 lar ; it is a complete encyclopedia of contradic- 
 tions ; and if chaos itself were employed to in- 
 struct the earth, it would, doubtless, in a similar 
 way, throw at the heads of mankind, eulogiums 
 of peace and war, of knowledge and prejudices, 
 of liberty and despotism, praises and insults upon 
 all governments and all religions. 
 
 It was at this period that Bonaparte sent Ge- 
 neral Leclerc to Saint Domingo, and designated 
 him in his decree our brother-in-law. This first 
 royal zwe, which associated the French with the 
 prosperity of this family, was a most bitter pill to 
 me. He obliged his beautiful sister to accompany 
 her husband to Saint Domingo, where her health 
 was completely ruined ; a singular act of despo- 
 tism for a man who is not accustomed to great se- 
 verity of principles in those about his person ; but 
 he makes use of morality only to harass some, and 
 dazzle others. A peace was in the sequel con- 
 cluded with the chief of the negroes, Toussaint- 
 Louverture. This man was, no doubt, a great 
 criminal, but Bonaparte had signed conditions 
 with him, in complete violation of which, Tous- 
 saint was conducted to a prison in France, where 
 he ended his days in the most miserable manner. 
 Perhaps Bonaparte himself hardly recollects this 
 crime, because he has been less reproached with 
 it than others. 
 
 In a great forge, we see with astonishment the vi- 
 olence of the machines which are set in motion by a 
 single will : these hammers, those flatteners, seem so 
 many persons, or rather devouring animals. Should 
 
59 TEN years' exile. 
 
 you attempt to resist their force, they would annihi- 
 late you ; notwithstanding, all this apparent fury is 
 calculated beforehand, and a single mover gives 
 action to these springs. The tyranny of Bonaparte 
 is represented to my eyes by this image ; he makes 
 thousands of men perish, as these wheels beat the 
 iron, and his agents are the greater part of them 
 equally insensible; the invisible impulse ef these 
 human machines proceeds from a will at once vio- 
 lent and methodical, which transforms morallife in- 
 to its servile instrument. Finally, to complete the 
 comparison, it is sufficient to seize the mover to re- 
 store every thing to a state of repose. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Journey to Coppet, — Preliminaries of peace with 
 
 England, 
 
 I WENT, according to my usual happy custom, 
 to spend the summer with my father. I found him 
 extremely indignant at the state of affairs ; and as 
 he had all his life been as much attached to real 
 liberty as he detested popular anarchy, he felt in- 
 clined to draw his pen against the tyranny of one, 
 after having so long fought against that of the many. 
 My father was fond of glory, and however prudent 
 his character, hazards of every kind did not displease 
 him, when the public esteem was to be deserved by 
 incurring them. I was quite sensible of the danger 
 to which any work of his which should displease the 
 first consul, would expose myself; but I could not 
 resolve to stifle this song of the swan, who wished to 
 make himself heard once more on the tomb of 
 French liberty. I encouraged him therefore in his 
 design, but we deferred to the following year the 
 question whether what he wrote should be published. 
 
 The news of the signature of the preliminaries of 
 peace between England and France, came to put 
 the crown to Bonaparte's good fortune. When I 
 learned that England had recognised his power, it 
 seemed to me that I had been wrong in bating it 5 
 but circumstances were not long in relieving me 
 from this scruple. The most remarkable article of 
 these preliminaries was the complete evacuation of 
 Egypt : that expedition therefore had had no other 
 
62 TEN years' exile^ 
 
 result than to make Bonaparte talked of. Several 
 publications written in places beyond the reach of 
 Bonaparte's power, accuse him of having made 
 Kleber be assassinated in Egypt, because he was 
 jealous of his influence ; and I have been assured 
 by persons worthy of credit, that the duel in which 
 General D'Estaing was killed by General Regnier, 
 was provoked by a discussion on this point. It ap- 
 pears to me, however, scarcely credible that Bona- 
 parte should have had the means of arming a Turk 
 against the life of a French general, at a moment 
 when he was far removed from the theatre of the 
 crime. Nothing ought to be said against him of 
 which there are not proofs ; the discovery of a 
 single error of this kind among the most notorious 
 truths would tarnish their lustre. We must not fight 
 Bonaparte with any of his own weapons. 
 
 I delayed my return to Paris to avoid being 
 present at the great fete in honour of the peace. 
 I know no sensation more painful than these pub- 
 lic rejoicings in which the heart refuses to parti- 
 cipate. We feel a sort of contempt for this booby 
 people which comes to celebrate the yoke pre- 
 paring for it : these dull victims dancing before 
 the palace of their sacrificer : this first consul de- 
 signated the father of the nation which he was 
 about to devour : this mixture of stupidity on one 
 side, and cunning on the other : the stale hypo- 
 crisy of the couriiers throwing a veil over the ar- 
 rogance of the master: all inspired me with an 
 insurmountable disgust. It was necessary, how- 
 ever, to constrain one's feelings, and during these 
 solemnities you were exposed to meet with offi- 
 cial congratulations, which at other times it was 
 more easy to avoid. 
 
TEN YEARS EXILE. 66 
 
 Bonaparte then proclaimed that peace was the 
 first want of the world : every day he signed some 
 new treaty, therein resembling the care with 
 ^which Polyphemus counted the sheep as he drove 
 Ithem into his den. The United States of Ameri- 
 IPca also made peace with France, and sent as their 
 plenipotentiary, a man who did not know a word 
 of French, apparently ignorant that the most com- 
 plete acquaintance with the language was barely 
 sufficient to penetrate the truth, in a government 
 which knew so well how to conceal it. The first 
 consul, on the presentation of Mr. Livingston, 
 complimented him, through an interpreter, on the 
 purity of manners in America, and added, " the 
 old world is very corrupt ;" then turning round 
 to M. de * '^, he repeated twice, " explain to him 
 that the old world is very corrupt: you know 
 something of it, don't you ?" This was one of 
 the most agreeable speeches he ever addressed in 
 public to this courtier, who was possessed of bet- 
 ter taste than his fellows, and wished to preserve 
 some dignity in his manners, although he sacrifi- 
 ced that of the mind to his ambition. 
 
 Meantime, however, monarchical institutions 
 were rapidly advancing under the shadow of the 
 republic. A pretorian guard was organized : 
 the crown diamonds were made use of to orna- 
 ment the sword of the first consul, and there was 
 observable in his dress, as well as in the political 
 situation of the day, a mixture of the old and 
 new regime : he had his dresses covered with gold, 
 and his hair cropped, a little body, and a large 
 head, an indescribable air of awkwardness and 
 arrogance, of disdain, and embarrassment, which 
 altogether formed a combination of the bad g^^.- 
 
 6 
 
54 TEN years' exile. 
 
 ces of a parvenu, with all the audacity of a tyrant. 
 His smile has been cried up as agreeable ; my 
 own opinion is, that in any other person it would 
 have been found unpleasant ; for this smile, 
 breaking out from a confirmed serious mood, ra- 
 ther resembled an involuntary twitch than a na- 
 tural movement, and the expression of his eyes 
 was never in unison with that of his mouth ; but 
 as his smile had the effect of encouraging those 
 who were about him, the relief which it gave them 
 made it be taken for a charm. I recollect once 
 being told very gravely by a member of the In- 
 stitute, a counsellor of stale, that Bonaparte's nails 
 were perfectly well made. Another time a cour- 
 tier exclaimed, '^The first consul's hand is beau- 
 tiful !" "Ah! for heaven's sake, Sir," replied 
 a young nobleman of the ancient noblesse, who 
 was not then a chamberlain, *' don't let us talk 
 politics." The same courtier, speaking afl'ec- 
 tionately of the first consul, said, " He frequent- 
 ly displays the most infantine sweetness." Cer^ 
 tainly, in his own family, he amused him.-3elf some- 
 times with innocent games ; he has been seen to 
 dance with his generals ; it is even said that at 
 Munich, in the palace of the king and queen of 
 Bavaria, to whom no doubt this gayety appeared 
 very odd, he assumed one evening the Spanish 
 costume of the Emperor Charles Vll. and be- 
 gan dancing an old French country dance, la 
 Monaco. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Paris in lS62*-^Bonaparte President of the Italian 
 republic,-— Mi^' return to Coppet, 
 
 Every step of the first consul announced more 
 and more openly his boundless ambition. While 
 the peace with England was negotiating at Amiens, 
 he assembled at Lyons the Cisalpine Consulta, con- 
 sisting of the deputies from Lombardy and the ad- 
 jacent states, which had been formed into a repub- 
 lic under the directory, and who now inquired 
 what new form of government they were to assume. 
 As people were not yet accustomed to the idea of 
 the unity of the French republic being transformed 
 into the unity of one man, no one ever dreamt of 
 the same person uniting on his own head the first 
 consulship of France and the presidency of Ita]}^ ; 
 it was expected therefore that Count Meizi wonld 
 be nominated to the oOice, as tlie person most dis- 
 tinguished by his knowledge, his illustrious birth, 
 and the respect of his fellow citizens. All of a sud- 
 den the report got abroad that Bonaparte was to 
 get himself nominated ; and at this news a moment 
 of life seemed still perceptible in the pubhc feeling. 
 It was said that tiie French constitution deprived 
 of the right of citizenship whoever accepted em- 
 ployment in a foreign country ; but was he a 
 Frenchman, who only wanted to make use of the 
 great nation for the oppression of Europe, and 
 vice versa? Bonaparte juggled the nomination of 
 president out of all these Italians, who only learned 
 
.^'6 TEN years' exile. 
 
 a few hours before proceeding to the scrutiny, that 
 they must appoint him. They were told to join the 
 name of Count Melzi, as vice-president, to that of 
 Bonaparte. They were assured that they would 
 only be governed by the former, who would always 
 reside among them, and that the latter was merely 
 ambiiious of an honorary title. Bonaparte said to 
 thern himself in his usual emphatic manner, " Cis- 
 ulpines, 1 shall preserve only the great idea of your 
 interests." But the great idea meant the complete 
 power. The day after this election, tliey were se- 
 riously occupied in making a constitution, as if any 
 one could exist by the side of this iron hand. The 
 nation was divided into three classes ; ibe possidenti, 
 the dottij and the commercianti. The landholders, 
 to be taxed ; the literary men, to be silenced ; and 
 the merchants, to have all the ports shut against 
 them. These sounding words in Italian are even 
 better adapted to the purposes of quackery than the 
 corresponding French. 
 
 Bonaparte had changed the name of Cisalpine 
 repiihlic into that of Italian republic, thereby giving 
 j.urope an anticipation of his future conquests in 
 the rest of Italy. Such a step was every thing but 
 pacinc, and yei it did not prevent the signature of 
 the treaty of Amiens ; so much did Europe, and 
 even England itself, then desire peace ! I was at 
 the English ambassador's at the moment of his re- 
 reiving the terms of this treaty. He read them 
 aloud to the persons who were dining with him, 
 and it is impossible for me to express the astonish- 
 ment I felt at every article. England restored all 
 her conquests ; she restored Malta, of which it had 
 been said, when it was taken by the French, that 
 if there had been nobody in the fortress, they 
 
TEN years' exile. 57 
 
 would never have been able to enter it. In short, 
 she gave up every thing, and without compensation, 
 to a power which she had constantly beaten at sea. 
 What an extraordinary effect of the passion for 
 peace ! And yet this man, who had so miraculously 
 obtained such advantages, had not the patience to 
 make use of them for a few years, to put the French 
 navy in a state to meet that of England. Scarcely 
 had the treaty of Amiens been signed, when Napo- 
 leon, by a senatus-consultum, annexed Piedmont to 
 France. During the twelve months the peace last- 
 ed, every day was marked by some new proclama- 
 tion, provoking to a breach of the treaty. The 
 motives of this conduct it is easy to penetrate ; Bo- 
 naparte wished to dazzle the French nation, now by 
 unexpected treaties of peace, at other times by wars 
 which would make him necessary to it. He believed 
 that a period of disturbance was favourable to usur- 
 pation. The newspapers, which were instructed to 
 boast of the advantages of peace in the spring of 
 J 802, said then, "We are approaching the mo- 
 ment when systems of politics will become of no ef- 
 fect." If Bonaparte had really wished it, he might 
 at that period have easily bestowed twenty years 
 of peace upon Europe, in the state of terror and 
 ruin to which it was reduced. 
 
 The friends of liberty in the tribunate were 
 still endeavouring to struggle against the constant- 
 ly increasing power of the first consul ; but they 
 had not then the advantage of being seconded by 
 public opinion. The greater number of the op- 
 position tribunes were every way deserving of es- 
 teem : but there were three or four persons who 
 acted along with them, who had been guilty of 
 revolutionary excesses, and the government look 
 
 6* 
 
58 TEN years' exile. 
 
 especial care to throw upon all, the blame which 
 could onlj attach to a few. It is certain, however, 
 that men collected in a jDubiic assembly generally 
 end in electrifying themselves with the sparks of 
 mental dignity ; and this tribunate, even such as it 
 was, would, had it been allowed to continue, have 
 prevented the establishment of tyranny. Already 
 the majority of votes had nominated, as a can- 
 didate for the senate, Daunou, an honest and en- 
 lightened republican, but certainly not a man to 
 be dreaded. This was sufficient, however, to de- 
 termine the first consul to the elimination of the 
 tribunate ; which means to make twenty of the 
 most energetic members of the assembly retire, 
 one by one, on the designation of the senators, 
 and to have them replaced by twenty others, de- 
 voted to the government. The eighty who re- 
 mained, were each year to undergo the same 
 operation by fourths. A lesson was in this man- 
 ner given them of what they were expected to 
 do, to retain their places, or in other words, their 
 salary of fifteen thousand francs ; the first consul, 
 wishing to preserve some time longer this muti- 
 lated assembly, which might serve for two or 
 three years more as a popular mask to his tyran- 
 nical acts. 
 
 Among the proscribed tribunes were several of 
 my friends; but my opinion was in this instance 
 altogether independent of my attachments. Per- 
 haps, however, I might feel a greater degree of 
 irritation at the injustice which fell upon persons 
 with whom I was connected, and I have no doubt 
 that I allowed myself the expression of some sar- 
 castic remarks on this hypocritical method of in- 
 terpreting the unfortunate constitution, into which 
 
TEN years' exile. 59 
 
 they had endeavoured to prevent the entrance of 
 the smallest spark of liberty. 
 
 There was at that time formed round General 
 Bernadotte, a party of generals and senators, 
 who wished to have his opinion, if some means 
 could not be devised to stop the progress of the 
 usurpation, which was now rapidly approaching. 
 He proposed a variety of plans, all founded upon 
 some legislative measure or other, considering 
 any other means as contrary to his principles. 
 But to obtain any such measure, it required a de- 
 liberation of at least some members of the senate, 
 and not one of them was found bold enough to 
 subscribe such an instrument. While this most 
 perilous negotiation continued, I was in the 
 habit of seeing General Bernadotte and his friends 
 very frequently; this was more than enough to 
 ruin me, if their designs were discovered. Bo- 
 naparte remarked, that people always came away 
 from my house less attached to him than when 
 they entered it ; in short, he determined to single 
 me out as the only culprit, among many, who 
 were much more so than I was, but whom it was 
 of more consequence to him to spare. 
 
 Just at this time, I set out for Coppet, and reach- 
 ed my father's house in a most painful state of 
 anxiety and mental oppression. My letters from 
 Paris informed me, that after my departure, the 
 first consul had expressed himself very warmly on 
 the subject of my connections with General Berna- 
 dotte. There was every appearance of his being 
 resolved to punish me ; but he paused at the idea 
 of sacrificing General Bernadotte ; either because 
 bis military talents were necessary to him ; re- 
 strained by the family ties which connected them ; 
 
60 TEN years' exile. 
 
 afraid of the greater popularity of Bernadotte with 
 the French army ; or finally because there is a 
 certain charm in his manners, which renders it dif- 
 ficult even to Bonaparte to become entirely his ene- 
 my. What provoked the first consul still more 
 than the opinions which he attributed to me, was 
 the number of strangers who came to visit me. 
 The Prince of Orange, son of the Stadtholder, did 
 me the honour to dine with me, for which he was 
 reproached by Bonaparte. The existence of a 
 woman, who was visited on account of her literary 
 reputation, was but a trifle 5 but that trifle was to- 
 tally independent of him, and was sufficient to 
 make him resolve to crush me. 
 
 In this year, 1802, the afiair of the princes, who 
 had possessions in Germany, was settled. The 
 whole of that negotiation was conducted at Paris, 
 to the great profit, it was said, of the ministers who 
 were employed in it. Be that as it may, it was at 
 this period that began the diplomatic spoliation of 
 Europe, which was only stopped at its very extre- 
 mities. 
 
 All the great noblemen of feudal Germany, were 
 seen at Paris exhibiting their ceremonial, whose 
 obsequious formalities were much more agreeable 
 to the first consul than the still easy manner of the 
 French ; and asking back wSiat belonged to them 
 with a servility which would almost make one lose 
 the right to one's own property, so much had it 
 the air of regarding the authority of justice as no- 
 thing. 
 
 A nation singularly proud, the English, was not 
 at this time altogether e&empt from a degree of 
 curiosity about the person of the first consul, ap- 
 proaching to homage. The ministerial party re- 
 
TEN YEARS^ EXILE- 
 
 61 
 
 garded him in his proper light; but the opposition, 
 which ought to have a greater hatred of tyrannyj 
 as it is supposed to be more enthusiastic for liberty, 
 the opposition party, and Fox himself, whose talents 
 and goodness of heart one cannot recollect without 
 admh'ation, and the tenderest emotion, committed 
 the error of showing too much attention to Bona- 
 parte, thereby serving to prolong the mistake of 
 those, who wished still to confound with the French 
 revolution, the most decided enemy of the first 
 principles of that revolution. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Kew symptoms of Bonaparte^ s ill loill to my fathe 
 and m,ysdf. — Affairs of Szvitzerlajid. 
 
 r 
 
 At the beginning of the winter 1802 — 3, when 
 I saw by the papers that so many ilhistrious Eng- 
 lishmen, and so many of the most intelligent per- 
 sons in France were collected in Paris, I felt, I con- 
 fess, the strongest desire to be among them. I do 
 not dissemble, that a residence in Paris has always 
 appeared to me the most agreeable of all others ; I 
 was born there — there I have passed my infancy 
 and early youth — and there only could 1 meet the 
 generation which had known my father, and the 
 friends who had with us passed through the hor- 
 rors of the revolution. This love of country, which 
 has attached the most strongly constituted minds, 
 lays still stronger hold of us, when it unites the en- 
 joyments of intellect with the affections of the heart, 
 and the habits of imagination. French conversa- 
 tion exists no where hut in Paris, and conversation 
 has been, since my infancy, my greatest pleasure. I 
 experienced such grief at the apprehension of being 
 deprived of this residence, thai my reason could not 
 support itself against it. I was then in the fall vi- 
 vacity of life, and it is precisely the want of animated 
 enjoyment, which leads most frequently to de-^pair, 
 as it renders that resignation very difficult, without 
 which we cannot support the vicissitudes of life. 
 
 The prefect of Geneva had received no orders 
 to refuse me my passports for Paris, but I knew that 
 
TEN YEARS EXILE. 63 
 
 tlie first consul had said in the midst of his circle, 
 that I would do well not to return ; and he was al- 
 ready in the habit, on subjects of this nature, of 
 dictating his pleasure in conversation, in order to 
 prevent his being called upon, by the anticipation 
 of his orders. If he had in this manner said, that 
 such and such an individual ought to go and hang 
 himself, I believe that he would have been displeas- 
 ed, if the submissive subject had not, in obedience 
 to the hint, bought a rope and prepared the gal- 
 lows. Another proof of his ill will to me, was the 
 manner in which the French journals criticized my 
 romance ofDelphine, which appeared at this time; 
 they thought proper to denounce it as immoral, and 
 the work which had received my father's approba- 
 tion was condemned by these courtier critics. 
 There might be found in that book, that fire of 
 youth, and ardour after happiness, which ten years, 
 and those years of suffering, have taught me to di- 
 rect in another manner. But my censors were not 
 capable of feeling this sort of error, and merely 
 acted in obedience to that voice which ordered 
 them to pull to pieces the work of the father, prior 
 to attacking that of the daughter. In fact we heard 
 from all quarters, that the true reason of the first 
 consul's anger, was this last work of my father, in 
 which the whole scafiblding of his monarchy was 
 delineated by anticipation. 
 
 My father, and also my mother, during her life- 
 time, had both the same predilection for a Paris re- 
 sidence that 1 had. I was extremely sorrowful at 
 being separated from my friends, and at being un- 
 able to give my children that taste for the fine arts, 
 which is acquired with difiiculty in the country ; 
 and as there was no positive prohibition of my re-- 
 
64 TEN years' exile. 
 
 turn in the letter of the consul Lebrun,* but merely 
 some significant hints, I formed a hundred projects 
 of returning, and trying if the first consul, who at 
 that time was still tender of public opinion, would 
 venture to brave the murmurs which my banish- 
 ment would not fail to excite. My father, who con- 
 descended sometimes to reproach himself for being 
 partly the cause of spoiling my fortune, conceived 
 the idea of going himself to Paris, to speak to the 
 first consul in my favour. I confess, that at first I 
 consented to accept this proof of my father's at- 
 tachment ; I represented to myself such an idea of 
 the ascendancy which his presence would produce, 
 that I thought it impossible to resist him ; his age, 
 the fine expression of his looks, and the union of so 
 much noble mindedness, and refinement of intellect, 
 appeared to me likely even to captivate Bonaparte 
 himself. I knew not at that time, to what a degree 
 the consul was irritated against his book ; but for- 
 tunately for me, I reflected that these very advanta- 
 ges were only more likely to excite in the first con- 
 sul a stronger desire of humbling iheir possessor. 
 Assuredly he would have found means, at least in 
 appearance, of accomplishing that desire ; as power 
 in Frauce has man) allies, and if the spirit of op- 
 pogitioa has been frequently displayed, it has only 
 been because the weakness of the government has 
 offered it an easy victory. Il cannot be too often 
 repeated, that what the French love above all things, 
 is success, and that with them, power easily suc- 
 ceeds in making misfortune ridiculous. Finally, 
 
 * This letter is the same which is spoken of in the 4th 
 part of the CQnsideraiions on the French revolution, cljap. 7. 
 —Editor, 
 
TEN YEARS EXILE. 65 
 
 thank God ! I awoke from the illusion to which I 
 had given myself up, and positively refused the no- 
 ble sacrifice which my father proposed to make for 
 me. When he saw me completely decided not to 
 accept it, I perceived how much it would have cost 
 him. I lost him fifteen months afterwards, and if 
 he had then executed the journey he proposed, I 
 should have attributed his illness to that cause, and 
 remorse would have still kept my wound festering. 
 
 It was also during the winter of 1802 — 3, that 
 Sv/itzerland took arms against the unitarian con- 
 stitution which had been imposed upon her. Sin- 
 gular mania of the French revolutionists to com- 
 pel all countries to adopt a political organization 
 similar to that of France ! There are, doubtless, 
 principles common to all countries, such as those 
 which secure the civil and political rights of free 
 people; but of what consequence is it whether 
 there should be a limited monarchy as in England, 
 or a federal republic like the United States, or the 
 Thirteen Swiss Cantons ? and was it necessary to 
 reduce Europe to a single idea, like the Roman 
 people to a single head, in order to be able to 
 command and to change the whole in one day ! 
 
 The first consul certainly attached no impor- 
 tance to this or that form of constitution, or even 
 to any constitution whatever ; but what was of 
 consequence to him, was to make the best use he 
 could of Switzerland for his own interest, and 
 with that view, he conducted himself prudently. 
 He combined the various plans which were offer- 
 ed to him, and drew up a form of constitution 
 which conciliated sufficiently well the ancient 
 habits with the modern pretensions, and in caus-^ 
 ing himself to be named Mediator of the Swiss 
 
 7 
 
66 TEN years' exile. 
 
 Confederation, he drew more persons from that 
 country, than he could have driven from it if he 
 had governed it directly. He made the deputies 
 nominated by the cantons and principal cities of 
 Switzerland come to Paris; and on the 29th of 
 January, 1803, he had a conference of seven 
 hours with ten delegates, chosen from the general 
 deputation. He dwelt upon the necessity of re- 
 estabhshing the democratic cantons in their for- 
 mer state, pronouncing on this occasion some de- 
 clamations on the cruelty of depriving shepherds 
 dispersed among the mountains, of their sole 
 amusement, namely, popular assemblies ; stating 
 also, (what concerned him more nearly,) the rea- 
 sons he had fbi: mistrusting the aristocratic can- 
 tons. He insisted strongly on the importance of 
 Switzerland to France. These were his words, 
 as they are given in a narrative of this confe- 
 rence : " I can declare, that since I have been at 
 the head of this government, no power has taken 
 the least interest in Switzerland : 'twas I who 
 made the Helvetic republic be acknowledged at 
 liuneville ; Austria cared not the least for it. At 
 Amiens I wished to do the same, and England re- 
 fused it ; but England has nothing to do with 
 Switzerland. If she had expressed the least ap- 
 prehension that I wished to be declared your Lan- 
 damann, I would have been so. It has been said 
 that England encouraged the last insurrection ; if 
 the English cabinet had tnken a single official step, 
 or if there had been a syllable said about it in the 
 London Gazette, 1 would have immediately united 
 you with France." What incredible language ! 
 Thus, the existence of a people who had secured 
 their independence in the midst of Europe by the 
 
TEN years' exile, G7 
 
 most heroic efforts, and maintained it for five 
 centuries fey wisdom and moderation, this exist- 
 ence would have been annihilated by a move- 
 ment of spleen which the least accident might 
 have excited in a being so capricious. Bonaparte 
 added, in this same conference, that it was un- 
 pleasant to him to have a constitution to make, 
 because it exposed him to be hissed, which he 
 had no partiality for. This expression [etre sif- 
 jie) bears the stamp of the deceitfully affable vul- 
 garity in which he frequently took pleasure in in- 
 dulging. Roederer and Desmeunier wrote the 
 act of mediation from his dictation, and the whole 
 passed during the time that his troops occupied 
 Switzerland. He has since withdrawn them, and 
 this country, it must be confessed, has been belter 
 treated by Napoleon than the rest of Europe, al- 
 though both in a political and military point of 
 view more completely dependent upon him; con- 
 sequently it will remain tranquil in the general in- 
 surrection. The peo|)le of Europe were dis- 
 posed to such a degree of patience, that it has 
 required a Bonaparte to exhaust \t. 
 
 The London newspapers attacked the first 
 consul bitterly enough ; the English nation was 
 too enlightened not to perceive the drift of his 
 actions. Whenever any translations from the 
 Enghsh papers were brought to him, he used to 
 apostrophize Lord Whitworth, who answered 
 him, with equal coolness and propriety, that the 
 King of Great Britain himself was not protected 
 from the sarcasms of newswriters, and that the 
 constitution permitted no violation of their lib- 
 erty on that score. However, the English 
 government caused M. Peltier to^be prosecuted 
 
(3S TEN years' exile. 
 
 for some articles in his journal directed against 
 the first consul. Peltier had the honour to be de- 
 fended by Mr. Mackintosh, who made upon this 
 occasion one of the most eloquent speeches that has 
 been read in modern times : I will mention farther 
 on, under what circumstances this speech came into 
 mv hands. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Rupture toith England, — Commencement of my 
 Exile, 
 
 I WAS at Geneva, living from taste and from 
 circumstances in the society of the English, 
 when the news of the declaration of war reached 
 us. The rumour immediately spread that the 
 English travellers would all be made prisoners ; 
 as nothing similar had ever been heard of in the 
 law of European nations, I gave no credit to it, 
 and my security was nearly proving injurious to 
 my friends : they contrived, however, to save 
 themselves. But persons entirely unconnected 
 with political affairs, among whom was Lord 
 Beverley, the father of eleven children, return- 
 ing from Italy with his wife and daughters, and 
 a hundred other persons provided with French 
 passports, some of them repairing to different 
 universities for education, others to the South 
 for the recovery of their health, all travelling 
 under the safeguard of laws recognised by all 
 nations, were arrested, and have been languish- 
 ing for ten years in country towns, leading the 
 oiost miserable life that the imagiDation can 
 conceive. This scandalous act was productive 
 of no advantage ; scarcely two thousand English, 
 including very few mihtary, became the victims 
 ot this . aprice of the tyrant, making a few poor 
 individuals suffer, to gratify his spleen against 
 the invincible nation to which they belong. 
 
70 TEN YEARS EXILE. 
 
 During the summer of 1803 began the great 
 farce of the invasion of England ; flat-boltomed 
 boats were ordered to be built from one end of 
 France to the other ; they were even constructed in 
 the forest on the borders of the great roads. The 
 French, who have in all things a very strong rage 
 for imitation, cut out deal upon deal, and heaped 
 phrase upon phrase : while in Picardy some erect- 
 ed a triumphal arch, on which was inscribed, '' the 
 road to London," others wrote, '^ To Bonaparte 
 the Great. We request you will admit us on board 
 the vessel which will bear you to England, and 
 with you the destiny and the vengeance of the 
 French people." This vessel, on board of which 
 Bonaparte was to embark, has had time to wear 
 herself out in harbour. Others put, as a device for 
 their flags in the roadstead, " A good wind, and 
 thirty hours,^^ In short, all France resounded 
 with gasconades, of which Bonaparte alone knew 
 perfectly the secret. 
 
 Toward the autumn I believed myself forgotten 
 by Bonaparte : I heard from Paris that he was 
 completely absorbed in his English expedition, that 
 he was preparing to set out for the coast, and to 
 embark himself to direct the descent. I put no 
 faith in this project ; but I flattered myself that he 
 would be satisfied if I lived at a kw leagues dis- 
 tance from Paris, with the small number of friends 
 who would come that distance to visit a person in 
 disgrace. I thought also that being sufficiently 
 well known to make my banishment talked of all 
 over Europe, the first consul would wish to avoid 
 this eclat. I had calculated according to my own 
 wishes ; but I was not yet thoroughly acquainted 
 with the character of the man who was to domineer 
 
TEN years' exile. 7 J 
 
 over Europe. Far from wishing to keep upon 
 terms with persons who had distinguished them- 
 selves in whatever line that was, he wished to make 
 all such merely a pedestal for his own statue, either 
 by treading them under foot, or by making them 
 subservient to his designs. ^ 
 
 I arrived at a little country seat I had at ten 
 eaguesfrom Pans with the project of establish- 
 ing myself during the winter in this retreat, as Ions 
 as the system of tyranny lasted. I only wished to 
 see my friends there, and to go occasionally to the 
 theatre, and to the museum. This was all the 
 residence I wished in Paris, in the state of distrust 
 and espiomge ^vhlch had begun to be established, 
 and 1 confess I cannot see what inconsistency there 
 would have been in the first consul allowin/me to 
 remain in this state of voluntary exile. I had been 
 there peaceably for a month, when a female, of that 
 description which is so numerous, endeavouring to 
 make herself of consequence at the expense of an- 
 other female, more distinguished than herself, went 
 and told the first consul that the roads were cover- 
 ed with people going to visit me. Nothing certain- 
 ly could be more false. The exiles whom the 
 world went to see, were those who, in the eiX 
 teenth century, were almost as powerful as The 
 monarchs who banished them; but when power is 
 resisted, it is because it is not tyrannical ; for it 
 can only be so by the general submission. Be that 
 as it may, Bonaparte immediately seized the pretext 
 or the motive that was given him, to banish me 
 and 1 was apprized by one of my friends, that a 
 gendarme would be with me in a few days with an 
 rrder for me to depart. One has no idea, in coun' 
 tr^s where routine at least ' secures individuals 
 Ircm any act of injustice, of the terror which the 
 
72 TEN YEARS* EXILE. 
 
 sudden news of arbitrary acts of this nature inspires. 
 It is besides extremely easy to shake me 5 my im- 
 agination more readily lays hold of trouble than 
 hope, and although I have often found my cha- 
 grin dissipated by the occurrence of novel circum- 
 stances, it always appears to me, when it does 
 come, that nothing can deliver me from it. In fact it 
 is very easy to be unhappy, especially when we as* 
 pire to the privileged lots of existence. 
 
 I withdrew immediately on receiving the above 
 intimation, to the house of a most excellent and 
 intelHgent lady,* to whom I ought to acknowledge 
 I was recommended by a person who held an im- 
 portant office in the government;! I shall never 
 forget the courage with which he offered me an 
 asylum himself: but he would have the same good 
 intentions at present, when he could not act in that 
 manner without completely endangering his exist- 
 ence. In proportion as tyranny is allowed to ad- 
 vance, it grows, as we look at it, like a phantom, 
 but it seizes widi the strength of a real being. 1 
 arrived then, at the country seat ©fa person whom 
 I scarcely knew, in the midst of a society to w.-sich 
 I was an entire stranger, and bearing in my heart 
 the most cutting chagrin which I made every effort 
 to disguise. During the night, when alone with a 
 female who had been for several years devoted to 
 my service, I sat listening at the window, in ex- 
 pectation of hearing every moment ihe steps of a 
 horse gendarme ; during the day I endeavoured to 
 make myself agreeable, in order to conceal my si- 
 tuation. 1 wrote a letter from this place to Joseph 
 
 * Madame de LatoUr. 
 
 ■\ Regnault de Saint- Jean-d*Angely. 
 
TEN tears' exile. 73 
 
 Bonaparte, in which I described with perfect truth 
 the extent of my unhappiness. A retreat at ten 
 leagues distance from Paris, was the sole object of 
 my ambition, and I felt despairingly, that if I was 
 once banished, it would be for a great length of 
 time, perhaps for ever. Joseph and his brother 
 Lucien generously used all their eiforts to save 
 me, and they were not the only ones, as will pre- 
 sently be seen. 
 
 Madame Recamier, so celebrated for her beauty, 
 and whose character is even expressed in her beau- 
 ty, proposed to me to come and live at her country 
 seat at St. Brice, at two leagues from Paris. I 
 accepted her offer, for I had no idea that I could 
 thereby injure a person so much a stranger to po- 
 litical affairs ; I believed her protected against 
 every thing, notwithstanding the generosity of her 
 character. I found collected there a most delight- 
 ful society, and there I enjoyed for the last time, all 
 that I was about to quit. It was during this stormy 
 period of my existence, that I received the speecli 
 of Mr. Mackintosh; there I read those pages, 
 where he gives us a portrait of a jacobin, who had 
 made himself an object of terror during the revo- 
 lution to children, women, and old men, and who is 
 now bending himself double under the rod of the 
 Corsican, who ravishes from him, even to the last 
 atom of that liberty, for Vv hich he pretended to have 
 taken arms. This morceau of the finest eloquence 
 touched me to my very soul ; it is the privilege of 
 superior writers sometimes, unwittingly, to solace 
 the unfortunate in all countries, and at all times. 
 France was in a state of such complete silence 
 around me, that this voice which suddenly re-' 
 spoqded to my soul, seemed to me to come down 
 
T4 TEN years' EXiLE. 
 
 from heaven ; it came fi-om a land of liber'ty. After 
 having passed a few days with Madame Recamier, 
 without hearing my banishment at ail spoken of, I 
 persuaded myself that Bonaparte had renounced it. 
 Nothing is more common than to tranquilize our- 
 selves against a threatened danger, when we see 
 no symptoms of it around us. I felt so little dis- 
 position to enter into any hostile plan or action 
 against this man, that I thought it impossible for 
 him not to leave me in peace ; and after some days 
 longer^ I returned to my own country seat, satisfied 
 that he had adjourned his resolution against me, 
 and was contented with having frightened me. In 
 •truth I had been sufficiently so, not to make me 
 change my opinion, or oblige me to . deny it, but 
 to repress completely that remnant of republican 
 habit which had led me the year before to speak 
 with too much openness. 
 
 I was at table with three of my friends, in a 
 room which commanded a view of the high roadj 
 and the entrance gate; it ^vas now the end of 
 September. At four o'clock, a man in a brown 
 coat, on horseback, stops at the gate and rings : I 
 was then certain of my fate. He asked for me, 
 and I went to receive him in the garden. In 
 walking toward him, the perfume of the flowers, 
 and the beauty of the sun particularly struck me. 
 Flow different are the sensations which affect us 
 from the combinations of society, from those of 
 nature ! This man informed me, that he was the 
 commandant of the gendarmerie of Versailles; 
 but that his orders were to go out of uniform ^ that 
 he might not alarm me; he showed me a letter 
 signed by Bonaparte, which contained the order 
 to banish me to forty leagues distance from Paris, 
 
TEN years' exile, 75 
 
 with an injunction to make me depart within four 
 and twenty hours ; at the same time to treat me 
 with all the respect due to a lady of distinction. 
 He pretended to consider me as a foreigner, and 
 as such, subject to the police: this respect for in- 
 dividual liberty did not last long, as very soon 
 afterwards, other Frenchmen and Frenchwomen 
 were banished without any form of trial. I told 
 the gendarme officer, that to depart within twenty- 
 four hours, might be convenient to conscripts, but 
 not to a woman and children, and in consequence, 
 I proposed to him to accompany me to Paris, 
 where 1 had occasion to pass three days to make 
 the necessary arrangements for my journey. I 
 got into my carriage with my children and this 
 officer, who had been selected for this occasion, 
 as the most literary of the gendarmes. In truth, 
 he began complimenting me upon my writings. 
 •' You see,'' said I to him, " the consequences of 
 being a woman of intellect, and I would recom- 
 mend you, if there is occasion, to dissuade any 
 females of your family from attempting it.'' I en- 
 deavoured to keep up my spirits by boldness, but 
 1 felt the barb in my heart. 
 
 I stopt for a few minutes at Madame Reca- 
 mier's ; I found there General Junot, who, from 
 regard to her, promised to go next morning to 
 speak to the first consul in my behalf; and he 
 certainly did so with the greatest warmth. One 
 would have thought, that a man so useful from his 
 military ardor to the power of Bonaparte, would 
 have had influence enough with him, to make hira 
 spare a female ; but the generals of Bonaparte, 
 even when obtaining numberless favours for them- 
 selves, have no influence with him. When they 
 
76 TEN years' exile. 
 
 ask for money or places, Bonaparte finds that in 
 character; they are in a manner then in his power, 
 as they place themselves in his dependance; but 
 if, what rarely happens to them, they should think 
 of defending an unfortunate person, or opposing 
 an act of injustice, he would make them feel very 
 quickly, that I hey are only arms employed to sup- 
 port slavery, by submitting to it themselves. 
 
 I got to Paris to a house I had recently hired, 
 but not yet inhabited; I had selected it with care 
 in the quarter and exposition which pleased me ; 
 and bad already in imagination set myself down 
 in the drawing room with some friends, whose 
 conversation is, in my opinion, the greatest plea- 
 sure the human mind can enjoy. Now, I only en- 
 tered this house with the certainty of quitting it, 
 and I passed whole nights in traversing the apart- 
 ments, in which I regretted the deprivation of siill 
 more happiness than I could have hoped for in it. 
 My gendarme returned every morning, like the 
 man in Blue-beard, to press me to set out on the 
 following day, and every day I was weak enough 
 to ask for one more day. My friends came to dine 
 with me, and sometimes we were gay, as if to 
 drain the cup of sorrow, in exhibiting ourselves 
 in the most amiable light to each other, at the mo- 
 ment of separating perhaps for ever. They told 
 me that this man, who came every day to summon 
 me to depart, reminded them of those times of 
 terror, when the gendarmes came to summon 
 their victims to the scalTold. 
 
 Some persons may perhaps be surprized at my 
 comparing exile to death; but there have been 
 great men, both in ancient and modern limes, who 
 have sunk under (his punishment. We meet with 
 
TEN years' exile. 
 
 more persons brave against the scaffold, tlian 
 against the loss of country. In all codes of law, 
 perpetual banishment is regarded as one of the 
 severest punishments; and the caprice of one man 
 inflicts in France, as an amusement, what consci- 
 entious judges only condemn criminals to with re- 
 gret. Private circumstances offered me an asylum, 
 and resources of fortune, in Switzerland, the 
 country of my parents; in those respects, I was 
 less to be pitied than many others, and yet I have 
 suffered cruelly. I consider it^ therefore, to be 
 doing a service to the world, to signalize the rea- 
 sons, why no sovereign should ever be allowed to 
 possess the arbitrary power of banishment. No 
 deputy, no writer, will ever express his thoughts 
 freely, if he can be banished when his frankness 
 has displeased; no man will dare to speak with 
 sincerity, if the happiness of his whole family is to 
 suffer for it. Women particularly, who are desti- 
 ned to be the support and reward of enthusiasm, 
 will endeavour to stifle generous feelings in them- 
 selves, if they find that the result of their expres- 
 sion will be, either to have themselves torn from 
 the objects of their affection, or their own exist- 
 ence sacrificed, by accompanying them in their 
 exile. 
 
 On the eve of the last day which was granted 
 me, Joseph Bonaparte made one more effort in 
 my favour; and his wife, who is a lady of the most 
 perfect sweetness and simplicity, had the kindness 
 to come and propose to me to pass a few days at 
 her country seat at Morfontaine. I accepted her 
 invitation most gratefully, for I could not but feel 
 sensibly affected at the goodness of Joseph, who 
 received me in his own house, at the very time I 
 
 8 
 
78 TEN years' exile. 
 
 was the object of his brother's persecution. I 
 passed three days there, and notwithstanding the 
 perfect politeness of the master and mistress of the 
 house, felt my situation very painfully. I saw 
 only men connected with the government, and 
 breathed only the air of that authority which had 
 declared itself my enemy; and yet the simplest 
 rules of politeness and gratitude forbade me from 
 showing what I felt. 1 had only my eldest son 
 with me, who was then too young for me to con- 
 verse with him on such subjects. I passed whole 
 hours in examining the gardens of Morfontaine, 
 among the finest that could be seen in France, and 
 the possessor of which, then tranquil, appeared 
 to me really an object of envy. He has been since 
 exiled upon thrones, where I am sure he has often 
 regretted his beautiful retreat. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Departure for Germayiy, — Arrival at Weimar, 
 
 I HESITATED about the course I was to adopt 
 on quitting France. Should I return to my father, 
 or should I go into Germany? My father would 
 have welcomed his poor bird, ruffled by the storm, 
 with ineffable goodness; but I dreaded the disgust 
 of returning, sent back in this manner, to a coun- 
 try which I was accused of finding rather monoto- 
 nous. I was also desirous of exhibiting myseif, 
 hy the kind reception which I had been promised 
 in Germany, superior to the outrage I had receiv- 
 ed from (he first consul; and of placing in public 
 contrast the kind reception of the ancient dynas- 
 ties, with the rude impertinence of that which 
 was preparing to subjugate France. This move- 
 ment of self love triumphed, for my misfortune; [ 
 should have again seen my father, if 1 had return- 
 ed to Geneva. 
 
 I requested Joseph to ascertain if I might go 
 into Prussia, for it was necessary for me to be at 
 least certain, that the French ambassador would 
 not reclaim me abroad as a Frenchwoman, while 
 in France I was proscribed as a foreigner. Jo- 
 seph went in consequence to St. Cloud, I was 
 obliged to wait his answer at a public house, at 
 two leagues from Paris, not daring to return to 
 my own house in the cily. A whole day passed 
 before this answer reached me. Not wi:^hing to 
 attract notice by remaining longer at the house 
 
TEN years' exile. 
 
 where I was, I made a lour of the walls of Paris 
 in search of another, at the same distance of two 
 leagues, but on a different road. This wander- 
 ing life, at a few steps from my friends and my 
 own residence, occasioned me such painful sen- 
 sations as I cannot recollect without|shuddering. 
 The room is still present to n^e ; the window 
 where I passed the whole day, looking out for 
 the messenger, a thousand painful details, which 
 misfortune always draws after it, the extreme 
 generosity of sorme friends, the veiled calculations 
 of others, altogether put my mind in such a cruel 
 fetale of agitation, as I could not wish to my 
 greatest enemy. At last this message, on which 
 1 still placed some hopes, arrived. Joseph sent 
 me some excellent letters of recommendation 
 for Berlin, and bid me adieu in a most noble and 
 touching manner. I was obliged, therefore, to 
 depart. Benjamin Constant was good enough 
 to accompany me ; but as he also was very fond 
 of Paris, I felt exlremely for the sacrifice he 
 made me. Every step the horses advanced made 
 rne ill, and when the postillions boasted of having 
 driven me quickly, I could not help sighing at 
 the disagreeable service they were rendering me. 
 In this way I travelled forty leagues without 
 being able to regain my self-possession. At last 
 we stopped at Chalons, and Benjamin Constant, 
 rallying his spirits, relieved by his wonderful 
 powers of conversation, at least for some mo- 
 ments, the weight which oppressed me. Next 
 day we continued our route as far as Metz, where 
 I wished to stop to wait for news from my father. 
 There I passed fifteen days, and met one of the 
 most amiable and intelligent men whom France 
 
TEN years' exile. 3 
 
 and Germany combined could produce, M. 
 Charles Villers. I was delighted with his so- 
 ciety, but it renewed my regret for that first of 
 pleasures, a conversation, in which there reigns 
 the most perfect harmony in all that is felt, with 
 all that is expressed. 
 
 My father was extremely indignant at the 
 treatment I had received at Paris ; he considered 
 that his family were in this manner proscribed, 
 and driven as criminals out of that country 
 which he had so faithfully served. He recom- 
 mended me to pass the winter in Germany, and 
 not to return to him until the spring. Alas! 
 alas ! I calculated on then carrying back td him 
 the harvest of new ideas which I was going to 
 collect in this journey. For several years pre- 
 ceding he was frequently telling me that my let- 
 ters and conversation were all that kept up his 
 connection with the world. His mind had so 
 much vivacity and penetraiion, that one was ex- 
 cited to think by the pleasure of talking to him. 
 I made observations to report tohim,— Ilistened, 
 to repeat to him. Ever since I have lost him, 1 
 see and feel only half what I did, when I had the 
 object in view of giving him pleasure by the 
 picture of my impressions. 
 
 At Frankfort, my daughter, then five years old, 
 fell dangerously ill. I knew nobody in that city, 
 and was entirely ignorant of the language; even 
 the physician to whose care I entrusted my child 
 scarcely spoke a word of French. Oh ! how 
 much my father shared with me in all my trouble ! 
 what letters he wrote me ! what a number of con- 
 sultations of physicians, all copied with his own 
 hand, he sent me from Geneva ! Never were 
 
 8* 
 
82^ TEN years' exile. 
 
 the harmony of sensibility and reason carried 
 further ; never was there any one like him, pos- 
 sessed of such lively emotion for the sufferings 
 of his friends, always active in assisting them, 
 always prudent in the choice of the means of 
 being so ; in short, admirable in every thing. My 
 heart absolutely requires this declaration, for 
 what is now to him even the voice of posterity ! 
 
 I arrived at Weimar, where I resumed my cou« 
 rage, on seeing, through the difficulties of the 
 language, the immense intellectual riches which 
 existed out of France. I learned to read Ger- 
 man ; I listened attentively to Goethe and Wieland, 
 who, fortunately for me, spoke French extremely- 
 well. I comprehended the mind and genius of 
 Schiller, in spite of the difficulty he felt in express- 
 ing himself in a foreign language. The society 
 of the duke and duchess of Weimar pleased me 
 exceedingly, and I passed three months there^ 
 during which the study of German literature gave 
 all the occupation to my mind which it requires 
 to prevent me from being devoured by my own 
 feelings^ 
 
CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 Berlin, — Prince Louis-Ferdinand, 
 
 I LEFT Weimar for Berlin, and there I saw that 
 charming queen, since destined to so many mis- 
 fortunes. The king received me with great kind- 
 ness, and I may say that during the six weeks I 
 remained in that city, I never heard an individual 
 who did not speak in praise of the justice of his 
 government. This, however, does not prevent 
 me from thinking it always desirable for a country 
 to possess constitutional forms, to guaranty to it, 
 by the permanent co-operation of the nation, the 
 advantages it derives from the virtues of a good 
 king. Prussia, under the reign of its present mo- 
 narch, no doubt possessed the greater part of these 
 advantages ; but the public spirit which misfor- 
 tune has developed in it did not then exist ; the 
 military regime had prevented public opinion from 
 acquiring strength, and the absence of a consti- 
 tution, in which every individual could make him- 
 self known by his merit, had left the stale unpro- 
 vided with men of talent, capable of defending it. 
 The favour of a king, being necessarily arbitrary, 
 cannot be sufficient to excite emulation ; circum« 
 stances which are peculiar to the interior of 
 courts, may keep a man of great merit from the 
 helm of affairs, or place there a very ordinary 
 person. Routine, likewise, is singularly power- 
 ful in countries where the regal power has no one 
 to contradict it ; even the justice of a king leads 
 
84 TEN years' exile. 
 
 him to place barriers around him, by keeping 
 every one in his place ; and it was almost with- 
 out example in Prussia, to find a man deprived 
 of his civil or military employments on account of 
 incapacity. What an advantage, therefore, ought 
 not the French army to have, composed almost 
 entirely of men born of the revolution, like the 
 soldiers of Cadmus from the teeth of the dragon! 
 What an advantage it had over those old com- 
 manders of the Prussian fortified places and ar- 
 mies, to whom every thing that was new was en- 
 tirely unknown ! A conscientious monarch who 
 has not the happiness — and I use the word design- 
 edly — the happiness to have a parliament as in 
 England, makes a habit of every thing, in order 
 to avoid making too much use of his own will : 
 and in the present times we must abandon ancient 
 usages, and look for strength of character and un- 
 derstanding, wherever they can be found. Be 
 that as it may, Berlin was one of the happiest and 
 most enlij^htened cities in the world. 
 
 The writers of the eighteenth century were cer- 
 tainly productive of infinite good to Europe, by 
 the spirit of moderation, and the taste for litera- 
 ture, with which their works inspired the greater 
 part of the sovereigns ; it must be admitted, how- 
 ever, that the respect which the friends of know- 
 ledge paid to French intellect has been one of the 
 causes which has rumed Germany forsuch a length 
 of time. Many people regarded the French ar- 
 mien as the propagators of the ideas of Montes- 
 quieu, Rousseau, and Voltaire ; while Ihe fact 
 was, that if any traces of the opinions of these 
 great men remained in the instruments of the 
 power of Bonaparte, it was only to liberate them 
 
TEN years' exile* 8d 
 
 from what they called prejudices, and not to es- 
 tablish a single regenerating principle. But there 
 were at Berlin, and in the North of Germany, at 
 the period of the spring of 1804, a great many 
 old partizans of the French revolution, who had 
 not yet discovered that Bonaparte , was a much 
 nnore bitter enemy of the first principles of that 
 revolution, than the ancient European aristo- 
 cracy. 
 
 I had the honour to form an acquaintance with 
 Prince Louis-Ferdinand, the same whose warlike 
 ardor so transported him, that his death was almost 
 the precursor of the first reverses of his country. 
 He was a man full of ardor and enthusiasm, but 
 who, for want of glory, cultivated too much the 
 emotions which agitate life. What particularly 
 irritated him against Bonaparte, was bis practice 
 of calumniating all the persons he dreaded, and 
 even of degrading in public opinion those whom 
 he employed, in order, at all risks, to keep then* 
 more strongly dependent on him. Prince Louis 
 said to me frequently, " 1 will allow him to kill, 
 but, moral assassination is what revolts me." And 
 in truth let us only consider the state in which we 
 have seen ourselves placed, since this great libeller 
 became master of all the newspapers of the Euro- 
 pean continent, and could, as he has frequently 
 done, pronounce the bravest men to be cowards, 
 and the most irreproachable women to be subjects 
 of contempt, without our having any means of con- 
 tradicting or punishing such assertions. 
 
CHAPTER XIT. 
 
 Conspiracy of Moreau and Pichegnu 
 
 The news had just arrived at Berlin of the great 
 conspiracy of Moreau, ofPicliegru, and of George 
 Cadoudal. There was certainly among the prin- 
 cipal heads of the republican and royalist parties a 
 strong desire to overturn the authority of the first 
 consul, and to oppose themselves to the still more 
 tyrannical authority which he resolved to establish 
 on making himself be declared emperor : but it has 
 been said, and perhaps not without foundation, 
 that this conspiracy, which has so well served Bo- 
 naparte's tyranny, was encouraged by himself, from 
 his wish to take advantage of it, with aMachiave- 
 lian art, of which it is of consequence to observe all 
 the springs. He sent an exiled jacobin into Eng- 
 land, who could only obtain his return to France 
 by services to be performed for the first consul. 
 This man presented himself, like Sinon in the city 
 of Troy, describing himself as persecuted by the 
 Greeks. He saw several emigrants who had nei- 
 ther the vices nor the faculties necessary to detect 
 a certain kind of villany. He found it therefore 
 a matter of great ease to entrap an old bishop, an 
 old officer, in short some of the wrecks of a govern- 
 ment, under which it was scarcely known what fac- 
 tions were. In the sequel he vvrole a pamphlet in 
 which he mystified, with a great deal of wit, all who 
 had believed him, and who in truth ought to have 
 made up what they wanted in sagacity by firmness 
 
TEN years' exile. 87 
 
 of principle 5 that is to say, never to place the least 
 confidence in a man capable of bad actions. We 
 have all our own way at looking at things; but 
 from the moment that a person has shown himself 
 to be treacherous or cruel, God alone can pardon, 
 for it belongs to him only to read the human heart 
 sufficiently to know if it is changed; man ought to 
 keep himself for ever at a distance from the person 
 who has lost his esteem. This disguised agent of 
 Bonaparte pretended that the elements of revolt 
 existed in France to a great extent ; he went to 
 Munich to find an English envoy, Mr. Drake, 
 whom he also contrived to deceive. A citizen of 
 Great Britain ought to have kept clear of this web 
 of artifice, composed of the crossed threads of ja- 
 cobinism and tyranny. 
 
 George and Pichegru, who were entirely de« 
 voted to the Bourbon party, came into France 
 secretly, and concerted with Moreau, whose wish 
 wag to rid France of the first consul, but not to 
 deprive the French nation of its right to choose 
 that form of government by which it desired to 
 be ruled. Pichegru wished to have a conversa- 
 tion with General Bernadotte, who refused it, 
 being dissatisfied with the manner in which the 
 enterprise was conducted, and desiring first of all, 
 to have a guarantee for the constitutional freedom 
 of France. Moreau, whose moral character is 
 most excellent, whose military talent is unques- 
 tionable, and whose understanding is just and en- 
 lightened allowed himself in conversation to go 
 too great lengths in blaming the first consul, be- 
 fore he could be at all certain of overthrowing 
 him. It is a defect very natural to a generous 
 mind to express its opinion, even inconsiderately: 
 
88 TEN years' exile. 
 
 but General Moreau attracted too much the no- 
 tice of Bonaparte not to make such conduct the 
 cause of his destruction. A pretext was wanting 
 to justify the arrest of a man who had gained so 
 many battles, and this pretext was found in his 
 conversation, if it could not be in his actions. 
 
 Republican forms were still in existence ; peo- 
 ple called each other citizen, whilst the most ter- 
 rible inequality, that which liberates some from 
 the yoke of the law, while others are under the 
 dominion of despotism, reigned over all France. 
 The days of the week were still reckoned ac- 
 cording to the republican calendar ; boasts were 
 made of being at peace with the whole of con- 
 tinental Europe ; reports were (as they still con- 
 tinue to be) continually presenting upon the 
 making of roads and canals, the building of 
 bridges and fountains; the benefits of the govern- 
 ment were extolled to the skies ; in short, there 
 was not the least apparent reason for endeavour- 
 ing to change a state of things with which the 
 nation was said to be so perfectly satisfied. A 
 plot, therefore, in which the English, and the 
 Bourbons, should be named, was a most desirable 
 event to the government, in order to stir up once 
 more the revolutionary elements of the nation, 
 and to turn those elements to the establishment 
 of an ultra monarchical power, under the pretence 
 of preventing the return of the ancient regime. 
 The secret of this combination, which appears 
 very complicated, is in fact very simple; it w^as 
 necessary to alarm the revolutionists as to the 
 danger to which their interests would be exposed, 
 and to propose to complete their security, by a 
 
TEN years' exile. 89 
 
 final abandonment of their principles ; and so it 
 was done, 
 
 Pichegru was become a decided royalist, as he 
 had formerly been a republican ; his opinion had 
 been completely turned ; his character was supe- 
 rior to his understanding ; but the one was as lit- 
 tle calculated as the other to draw men after him. 
 George had more elasticity about him, but he was 
 not fitted either by nature or education for the 
 rank of chief. As soon as it was known that 
 these two were at Paris, Moreau was immediately 
 arrested, the barriers were shut, death was de- 
 nounced to any one who should give an asylum to 
 Pichegru or George, and all the measures of ja- 
 cobinism were put in force to protect the life of 
 one man. This man is not only of too much im- 
 portance in his own eyes to stick at any thing, 
 when his own interests are in question, but it like- 
 wise entered into his calculations to alarm men's 
 minds, to recall the days of terror, in short, to in- 
 spire the nation, if possible, with the desire of 
 throwing itself entirely upon him, in order to es- 
 cape the troubles whichit was the tendency of all 
 his measures to increase. The retreat of Piche- 
 gru was discovered, and George was arrested in a 
 cabriolet ; for, being unable to live longer in any 
 house, he, in this manner, traversed the streets 
 night and day, to keep himself out of sight of his 
 pursuers. The police agent who seized him, was 
 recompensed with the legion of honour, I ima- 
 gine that French soldiers would have wished him 
 any reward but that. 
 
 The Moniteur was filled with addresses to the 
 first consul, congratulating him on his escape from 
 this^ danger 5 this incessant repetition of the same 
 
 9 
 
90 TEN years' EXIIE. 
 
 phrases, bursting from every corner of France, of- 
 fers such a concord in slavery as is perhaps unex- 
 ampled in the history.of any other people. You 
 may in turning over the Moniteur, find, according 
 to the different epochs, exercises upon liberty, up- 
 on despotism, upon philosophy, and upon religion, 
 in which the departments and good cities of France 
 strive to say the same thing in different terms ; and 
 one feels astonished that men so intelligent as the 
 French, should attach themselves entirely to suc- 
 cess in the style, and never once have had the de- 
 sire of exhibiting ideas of their own ; one might 
 say that the emulation of words was all that they 
 required. These hymns of dictation, however, 
 with the points of admiration which accompany 
 them, announced that France was completely tran- 
 quil, and that the small number of emissaries of 
 perfidious Albion were seized. One general, it is 
 true, amused himself with reporting, that the En- 
 glish had thrown baks of Levant cotton on the 
 coast of Normandy, to give France the plague ; 
 but these inventions of grave buffoonery were only 
 regarded as pieces of flattery addressed to the first 
 consul ; and the chiefs of the conspiracy, as well 
 as their agents, being in the power of the govern- 
 ment, there was reason for believing that calm was 
 restored in France ; but Bonaparte had not yet 
 attained his object. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Assassination of the Duke d'^Enghien. 
 
 I RESIDED at Berlin on the Spree Quay, and 
 my apartment was On the ground floor. One morn- 
 ing I was awoke at eight o'clock, and told that 
 Prince Louis-Ferdinand was on horseback under 
 my windows, and wished me to come and speak 
 to him. Much astonished at this early visit, I 
 hastened to get up and go to him. He was a sin- 
 gularly graceful horseman, and his emotion height- 
 ened the nobleness of his countenance. " Do you 
 know," said he to me, " that the Duke d'Enghien 
 has been carried ofi* from the Baden territory, de- 
 livered to a military commission, and shot within 
 twenty-fours after his arrival in Paris ?" " What 
 nonsense !" I answered, " don't you see that this 
 can only be a report spread by the enemies of 
 France .f"' In fact I confess that my hatred to Bo- 
 naparte, strong as it was, never went the length of 
 making me believe in the possibility of his com- 
 mitting such an atrocity. " As you doubt what I 
 tell you," replied Prince Louis, " I will send you 
 the Moniteur, in which you will read the sentence." 
 He left me at these words, and the expression of 
 his countenance was the presage of revenge or 
 death. A quarter of an hour afterwards, I had in 
 my hands this Moniteur of the 21st March, (30th 
 Piuviose,) which contained the sentence of death 
 pronounced by the military commission sitting at 
 Vincennes, against the person called Louis d^Eng- 
 
92 TEN ¥4:ars' exile. 
 
 hien I It is thus that the French designated the de- 
 scendant of heroes, who were the glory of their 
 country. Even if they abjured all the prejudices 
 of illustrious birth, which the return of monarchical 
 forms would necessarily recall, could they blas- 
 pheme in this manner the recollection of the battles 
 of Lens and Tlocroi ? This Bonaparte who has 
 gained so many battles, does not even know how 
 10 respect them ; with him there is neither past nor 
 future ; his imperious and contemptuous soul will 
 recognize nothing for opinion to hold sacred ; he 
 admits only respect for the force v^'hich is in exis- 
 tence. Prince Louis wrote to me, beginning his 
 note in these words, " The person called Louis c'' 
 Prussia begs to know of Madame de Stael, &;c." 
 He felt the insult offered to the royal blood from 
 which he sprung, to the recollection of the heroes, 
 in the roll of whom he burned to place his 
 name. How was it possible, after this horrible ac- 
 tion, for a single monarch in Europe to connect 
 himself with such a man ? Necessity, will it be 
 said f There is a sanctuary in the soul to which his 
 empire never ought to penetrate 5 if there were not, 
 what would virtue be upon this earth ? a mere li- 
 beral amusement which could only suit the peace- 
 ful leisure of private individuals. 
 
 A ladj of my acquaintance related to me, that 
 a few days after the death of the Duke d'Enghien, 
 she went to take a walk round the castle oT Vin- 
 cennes ; the ground, still fresh, marked the spot 
 where he had been burled ; some children were 
 playing with little quoits upon this mound of turf, 
 the only monument for the ashes of such a man. 
 An old invalid, with silvered locks^ was sitting at 
 a little distance, and remained some time lookiRg 
 
at the 
 
 them a^v. 
 
 some tears, 
 
 beseech you." 
 
 that were paid to 
 
 Conde, and the earth . 
 
 pression of them. .. 
 
 For a moment, at least, pubho .; ; 
 to awaken in France, and indignation 
 ral. But when these generous flames wc 
 tinguished, despotism was but the more easily 
 established, from the vain efforts which had been 
 made to resist it. The first consul was for some 
 days rather uneasy at the disposition of men's 
 minds. Fouche himself blamed this action ; he 
 made use of this expression, so characteristic of 
 the present regime : " It is worse than a crime ; 
 it is a fault." There are many ideas in this short 
 
 hrase ; but fortunately we may reverse it with 
 truth, by affirming that the greatest of faults is 
 crime. Bonaparte asked an honest senator, what 
 was thought of the death of the Duke d'Enghien, 
 ^* General,'*' replied he, " it has given great af- 
 fliction." " I am not astonished at it," said Bo- 
 naparte, " a house which has long reigned in a 
 country always interests •/' thus wishing to con- 
 nect with motives of party interest the most^na- 
 tural feeling that the human heart can experience. 
 Another time he put the same question to a tri- 
 bune, who, from the desire of pleasing him, an- 
 swered : " Well, general, if our enemies take- 
 measures against us, we are in the right to do the 
 same against them ;'' not perceiving that this was 
 tantamount to a confession that the deed was atro- 
 
 9^ 
 
jcted to consider this 
 ^ns of state. One day, 
 a discussion with an intelli- 
 ue plays of Corneille, he said, 
 the public safety, or to express it 
 state necessity, has with the moderns 
 been substituted in the place of the fatality of the 
 ancients : there is, for instance, such a man, who 
 naturally would be incapable of a crime, but po- 
 litical circumstances impose it upon him as a law, 
 Corneille is the only one who has shown, in his 
 tragedies, an acqaintance with state necessity ; 
 on that account, if he had lived in my time, I 
 would have made him my prime minister." All 
 this appearance of good humour in the discussion 
 was intended to prove that there was nothing of 
 passion in the death of the Duke d'Enghien, and 
 that circumstances, meaning such as the head of 
 the state is exclusively the judge of, might cause 
 and justify every thing That there was nothing 
 of passion in his resolution about the Duke D'En- 
 ghien is perfectly true ; people would have it that 
 rage inspired the crime, — it had nothing to do 
 with it. By what could this rage have been pro- 
 voked? The Duke d'Enghien had in no way pro- 
 voked the first consul : JBonaparte hoped at first 
 to have got hold of the Duke de Berry, who, it was 
 said, was to have landed in Normandy, if Piche- 
 gru had given him notice that it was a proper time. 
 This prince is nearer the throne than the Duke 
 d'Enghien, and besides, he would by coming into 
 France have infringed the existing laws. It there- 
 fore suited Bonaparte in every way better to have 
 sacrificed him than the Duke d'Engliien; but as 
 he could not get at the first, he chose the second, 
 
TEN years' exile. 05 
 
 in discussing the matter in cold blood. Between 
 the order for carrying him otf, and that for his 
 execution, more than eight days had elapsed, and 
 Bonaparte ordered the punishment of the Duke 
 d'Enghien long beforehand, as coolly, as he has 
 since sacrificed millions of men to the caprices of 
 his ambition. 
 
 We now ask, what were the motives of this 
 horrible action, and I believe it is very easy to 
 penetrate them. First, Bonaparte wished to se- 
 cure the revolutionary party, by contracting with 
 it an alliance of blood. An old jacobin, when he 
 heard the news, exclaimed, " So much the better! 
 General Bonaparte is now become one of the 
 convention." For a long time the jacobins would 
 only have a man who had voted for the death of 
 the king, for the first magistrate of the republic ; 
 that was what they termed, giving pledges tt 
 the revolution. Bonaparte fulfilled this condi- 
 tion of crime, substituted for that of property re- 
 quired in other countries ; he thus afforded the 
 certainty that he would never serve the Bour- 
 bons ; and thus such of that parly as atta'Ched 
 themselves to his, burnt their vessels, never to 
 return. 
 
 On the eve of causing himself to be crowned by 
 the same men who had proscribed royaby, and of 
 re-establishing, a noblesse composed of the parti- 
 sans of equality, he believed it necessary to sa- 
 tisfy them by the horrible guarantee of the assas- 
 sination of a Bourbon, In the conspiracy of Piche- 
 gru and Moreau, Bonaparte knew that the repub- 
 licans and royalists had united against him ; this 
 strange coalition, of which the hatred he inspired 
 was the sole bond, had astonished him. Several 
 
96 TEN YEARS EXILE. 
 
 persons who held places under him, were marked 
 out for the service of that revolution which was to 
 break his power, and it was of consequence to 
 him that henceforward all his agents should con- 
 sider themselves ruined beyond redemption, if 
 their master was overturned ; and, finally, above 
 all, he wished at the moment of his seizing the 
 crown to inspire such terror, that no one in fu- 
 ture should think of resisting him. Every thing 
 was violated in this single action : the European 
 law of nations, the constitution such as it then 
 existed, public shame, humanity, and religion. 
 Nothing could go beyond it ; every thing was 
 therefore to be dreaded from the man who had 
 committed it, it was thought for some time in 
 France, that the murder of the Duke d'Enghien 
 was the signal of a new system of revolution, and 
 that the scaffolds were about to be re-erected. 
 But Bonaparte only wished to teach the French 
 one thing, and that was, that he dared to do every 
 thing; in order that they might give him credit 
 for the evil he abstained from, as others get it for 
 the good they do. His clemency was praised 
 when he allowed a man to live ; it had been seen 
 how easy it was for him to cause one (o perish, 
 Russia, Sweden, and, above all, England, com- 
 plained of this violation of the Germanic empire; 
 the German princes themselves were silent, and 
 the weak sovereign on whose territory the out- 
 rage had been committed, requested in a diplo- 
 matic note, that nothing more should be said of 
 the evfnt that had happened. Did not this gen- 
 tle and veiled expression, applied to such an act, 
 characterize the meanness of those princes, who 
 
TEN years' exile. 97 
 
 made their sovereignty consist only in their reve- 
 nues, and treated a state as a capital, of which 
 they must get the interest paid as quietly as they 
 could ? 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Illness and death of M, Necker, 
 
 My father lived long enough to hear of the 
 assassination of the Duke d'Enghien, and the last 
 lines which I received, that were traced by his 
 own hand, expressed his indignation at this 
 atrocity. 
 
 In the midst of the most complete security, I 
 found one day upon my table two letters, announ- 
 cing to me that my father was dangerously ill. 
 The courier who brought them was concealed 
 from me, as well as the news of his death. I set 
 out immediately with the strongest hope, which I 
 preserved in spite of all the circumstances which 
 ought to have extinguished it. When the real 
 truth became known to me at Weimar, I was sei- 
 zed with a mingled sensation of inexpressible ter- 
 ror and despair. 1 saw myself without support 
 in the world, and compelled to rely entirely on 
 myself for sustaining my soul against misfortune. 
 Many objects of attachment still remained to me ; 
 but the sentiment of affectionate admiration which 
 1 felt for my father, exercised a sway over me 
 with which no other couM come in competition. 
 Grief, which is the truest of prophets, predicted 
 to me that I should never more be happy at heart, 
 as I had been, whilst this man of all-powerful 
 sensibility watched over my fate ; and not a sin- 
 gle day has elapsed since the month of April, 1 804, 
 in which I have not connected all my troubles 
 
TEN years' exile. 99 
 
 with his loss. So long as my father lived, I suffer- 
 ed only from imagination; for in the affairs of real 
 life, he always found means to be of service to 
 me; after I lost him, I came in direct communi- 
 cation with destiny. It is nevertheless still to the 
 hope that he is praying for me in heaven, that I 
 am indebted for the fortitude I retain. It is not 
 merely the affection of a daughter, but the most 
 intimate knowledge of his character, which makes 
 me affirm that I have never seen human nature 
 carried nearer to perfection than it was in his 
 soul; if I was not convinced of the truth of a fu- 
 ture state, I should become mad with the idea 
 that such a being could have ceased to exist. 
 There was so much of immortality in his thoughts 
 and feelings, that it happens to me a hundred 
 times, whenever I feel emotions that elevate me 
 above myself, I believe I still hear him. 
 
 During my melancholy journey from Weimar 
 to Coppet, I could not help envying the existence 
 of every object that circulated in nature, even the 
 birds and insects which were flying round me; I 
 asked only a day, a single day, to talk to him once 
 more, to excite his compassion; I envied those 
 forest trees whose existence is prolonged for cen- 
 turies; but the inexorable silence of the grave 
 has something in it which confounds the human 
 intellect; and although it is the truth of all others 
 the best known to us, the strength of the impres- 
 sion it leaves can never be effaced. As I approach- 
 ed my father's residence, one of my friends point- 
 ed out to me on the mountain some clouds which 
 bore the resemblance of an immense human figure, 
 which would disappear toward the evening : it 
 seemed to me that the heavens thus offered me 
 
100 TEN years' exile. 
 
 the symbol of the loss I had just sustained. He 
 was a man truly great: a mian, who in no circum- 
 stances of his life ever preferred the most import- 
 ant of his interests to the least of his duties; — a 
 man, whose virtues were inspired to that degree 
 by his goodness, that he could have dispensed 
 with principles, and whose principles were so 
 strict that he might have dispensed with goodness. 
 On my arrival at Coppet, I learned that my 
 father, during the illness of nine days which had 
 deprived me of him, had been continually and 
 anxiously occupying himself about my fate. He 
 reproached himself for his last book, as the cause 
 of my exile ; and with a trembling hand he wrote, 
 during his fever, a letter to the first consul, in 
 which he assured him that I had nothing whatever 
 to do with the publication of his last work, but 
 that on the contrary, 1 had desired that it should 
 not be printed. This voice of a dying man bad so 
 much solemnity ! this last prayer of a man who 
 had played so important a part in France, asking 
 as an only favour, the return of his children to the 
 place of their birth, and an act of oblivion to the 
 imprudences which a daughter, then young, might 
 have committed, — all this appeared to me irresis- 
 tible ; and well as I ought to have known the cha- 
 racter of the man, that happened to me, which I 
 believe is in the nature of all who ardently desire 
 the cessation of a great affliction;— I hoped con- 
 trary to all expectation. The first consul recei- 
 ved this letter, and doubtless must have thought 
 me an extreme simpleton to flatter myself for a 
 moment that he would be in the least moved by 
 it. Certainly, 1 am in that point quite of his 
 opinion. 
 
CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 Trial ofMoreau. 
 
 The trial of Moreau still proceeded, and al- 
 though the journals preserved the most profound 
 silence on the subject, the publicity of the plead- 
 ings was sufficient to rouse the minds, and nevei* 
 did the public opinion in Paris show itself so 
 strongly against Bonaparte as it did at that period. 
 The French have more need than any other peo- 
 ple of a certain degree of liberty of the press ; 
 they require to think and to feel in common ; the 
 electricity of the emotions of their neighbours is 
 necessary to make them experience the shock in 
 their turn, r,^d their enthusiasm never displays it- 
 self in an isolated manner. Whoever wishes to 
 become their tyrant, therefore, does well to al- 
 low no kind of manifestation to public opinion ; 
 Bonaparte joins to this idea, which is common to 
 all despots, an artifice peculiar to the present 
 time— to wit, the art of proclaiming some factitious 
 opinion in journals which have the appearance of 
 being free, they make so many phrases in the 
 sense which they are ordered. It must be con* 
 fessed that our French writers are the only ones 
 who can in this manner every morning embellish 
 the same sophism, and who hug themselves in the 
 very superfluity of servitude. While the instruct 
 tion of this famous affair was in progress, the 
 journals informed Europe that Pichegru had 
 strangled himself in the temple ; all the gazettes 
 
 10 
 
102 TEN years' exile. 
 
 were filled with a surgical report, which appear- 
 ed V^erj improbable, notwithstanding the care 
 with which it was drawn up. If it is true that 
 Pichegru had perished the victim of assassination, 
 let us figure to ourselves the situation of a brave 
 general, surprised by cowards in the bottom of 
 his dungeon, — defenceless, — condemned for se- 
 veral days to that prison solitude which sinks the 
 courage of the soul, — ignorant even if his friends 
 will ever know in what manner he perished, — if 
 his death will be revenged, — if his memory will 
 not be outraged ! Pichegru had, in his first in- 
 terrogatory, exhibited a great deal of courage, 
 and threatened, it was said, to exhibit proofs of 
 the promises which Bonaparte had made to the 
 Vendeans of effecting the return of the Bourbons. 
 Some persons pretend that he had been subject- 
 ed to the torture, as well as two other conspira- 
 tors, (one of whom, named Picot, showed hip mu- 
 tilated hands at the tribunal,) and that they dared 
 not expose to the «yes of the French people one 
 of its ©Id defenders subjected to the torture of 
 slaves. I give no credit to this conjecture ; we 
 must always, in the actions of Bonaparte, look 
 for the calculation which has dictated them, and 
 we shall find none in this latter supposition: while 
 it is, perhaps, true, that the appearance of Mo- 
 reau and Pichegru together at the bar of a tribu- 
 nal would have inflamed public opinion to its 
 highest pitch. Already the crowd in the tribunes 
 was immense^ several officers, at the head of 
 whom was a loyal man, General Lecourbe, exhi- 
 bited the most lively and courageous interest for 
 General Moreau. When he repaired to the tri- 
 bunal, the gendarmes, who guarded him always. 
 
TEir years' exile. 1^3 
 
 respectfully presented arms to him. Already it 
 had begun to be felt that honour was on the side 
 of the persecuted; but Bonaparte, by his all at 
 once making himself be declared emperor, in the 
 midst of this fermentation, entirely diverted 
 men's minds by this new perspective, and con- 
 cealed his progress better in the midst of the 
 storm by which he was surrounded, than he could 
 have done in the calm. 
 
 General Moreau pronounced before the tribunal 
 one of the best speeches which history presents to 
 us ; he recalled, with perfect modesty, the battles 
 wliich he had gained since Bonaparte governed 
 France; he excused himself for having frequently 
 expressed himself, perhaps with too much freedom, 
 and contrasted in an indirect manner the charac- 
 ter of a Breton with that of a Corsican ; in short, he 
 exhibited at once a great deal of mind, and the most 
 perfect presence of mind, at a moment so critical, 
 Regnier at that time united the ministry of police 
 whh that of justice, in the room of Fouche, who 
 had been disgraced. He repaired to Saint Cloud 
 on leaving the tribunal. The emperor asked him 
 what sort of speech Moreau had made : " Contemp- 
 tible,'' said he. " In that case," said the emperor, 
 " let it be printed, and distributed all over Paris." 
 When Bonaparte found afterwards how much his 
 minister had been mistaken, he returned at last to 
 Fouche, the only man who could really second 
 him, from his carrying, unfortunately for the world, 
 a sort of skilful moderation into a system that had 
 no limits. 
 
 An old jacobin, one of Banaparte's condemned 
 spirits, was employed to speak to the judges, to 
 induce them to condemn Moreau to death. " That 
 
104 TEN years' exile. 
 
 is necessary'' said he to them, " to the considera- 
 tion due to the emperor, who caused him to be 
 arrested ; but you ought to make the less scruple 
 in consenting to it, as the emperor is resolved to 
 pardon him." " And who will enable us to par- 
 don ourselves, if we cover ourselves wifh such in- 
 famy ?" replied one of the judges,* whose name I 
 am not at liberty to mention, for fear of exposing 
 him. General Moreau was condemned to two 
 years' imprisonment; George and several others of 
 his friends to death ; one of the MM. de Polignac 
 to two, and the other to four years' imprisonment : 
 and both of them are still confined, as well as seve- 
 ral others, of whom the police laid hold, when the 
 period of their sentence had expired. Moreau re- 
 quested to have his imprisonment commuted for 
 perpetual banishment ; perpetual in this instance 
 should be called for life, for the misery of the 
 world is placed on the head of one man. Bona- 
 parte readily consented to this banishment, which 
 suited his views in all respects. Frequently, oa 
 Moreau's passage to the place where he was to 
 embark, the mayors of the towns, whose business 
 it was to viser his passport of banishment, showed 
 him the most respectful attention. "Gentlemen," 
 said one of them to his audience, " make way for 
 General Moreau," and he made an obeisance to 
 him as he would have done to the emperor. There was 
 still a France in the hearts of men, but the idea of act- 
 ing according to one's opinion had already ceased 
 to exist, and at present it is difficult to know if 
 there remains any, it has been so long stifled. 
 When he arrived at Cadiz, these same Spaniards^ 
 
 *M. Clavier. 
 
TEN tears' exile. 1Q5 
 
 who were a few years after destined to give so great 
 an example^ paid every possible homage to a vic- 
 tim of tyranny. When Moreau passed through 
 the English fleet, their vessels saluted him as if he 
 had been the commander of an allied army. Thus 
 the supposed enemies of France took upon them 
 to acquit her debt to one of her most illustrious 
 defenders. When Bonaparte caused Moreau to be 
 arrested, he said, " I might have made him come to 
 me> and have told him : Listen, you and I cannot 
 remain upon the same soil ; go therefore, as I am 
 the strongest ; and I believe he would have gone. 
 But these cliivalrous manners are puerile in public 
 matters." Bonaparte believes, and has had the art 
 to persuade several of the Machiavelian appren- 
 tices of the new generation, that every generous 
 feeling is mere childishness. It is high time to 
 teach {jim that virtue also has something manly in 
 it, and more manly than crime with all its auda- 
 city. 
 
 10^ 
 
CHAPTER XVlfF. 
 
 Commencement of the Empire^ 
 
 The motion to call Bonaparte to the empire 
 was made in the tribunate by a conventionalist, for- 
 merly a jacobin, supported by Jaubert, an advo- 
 cate and deputy from the naerchants of Bourdeaux, 
 and seconded by Simeon, a man of understand- 
 ing and good sense, who had been proscribed as 
 a royalist under the republic. It was Bonapartelfe 
 wish that the partisans of the old regime, and 
 these of the permanent interests of the nation, 
 should unite in choosing him. It was settled that 
 registers should be opened all over France, to 
 enable every one to express his wish regarding 
 the elevation of Bonaparte to the throne. But 
 without waiting for the result of this, prepared as 
 it was before-hand, he took the title of emperor 
 by a senatus consultum, and this unfortunate se- 
 nate had not even the strength to put constitu-' 
 tional limits to this new monarchy. A tribune, 
 whose name I wish I dared mention,* had the 
 honour to make a special motion for that purpose. 
 Bonaparte, in order to anticipate this idea, adroit- 
 ly sent for some of the senators, and told them, 
 '* I feel very much at thus being placed in front ; 
 i like my present situation much better. The 
 continuation of the republic is, however, no longer 
 possible J people are quite tired out with it •,. I 
 
TfiN years' exile. 107 
 
 believe that the French wish for royalty. I had 
 at first thought of recalling the old Bourbons, but 
 that would have only ruined them, and myself. 
 It is my thorough conviction, that there must be 
 at last a man at the head of all this 5 perhaps, 
 however, it would be better to wait some time 
 
 longer I have made France a century 
 
 older in the last five years ; liberty, that is a good 
 civil code, and modern nations care little for any 
 thing but property. However, if you will believe 
 me, name a committee, organize the constitution, 
 and I tell you fairly," added he smiling, " take 
 precautions against my tyranny ; take them, be^" 
 lieve me." This apparent good nature seduced 
 the senators, who, to say the truth, desired nothing 
 better than to be seduced. One of them, a man 
 of letters, of some distinction, but one of those 
 philosophers who are always finding philanthro- 
 pic motives for being satisfied with power, said 
 to one of my friends, '' It is wonderful ! with what 
 simplicity the emperor allows himself to be told 
 every thing ! The other day I made him a dis- 
 course an hour long, to prove the absolute neces- 
 sity of founding the new dynasty on a charter 
 which should secure the rights of the nation." 
 And what reply did he make you ? was asked* 
 " He clapped me on the shoulder with the most 
 perfect good humour, and told me ; You are quite 
 right, my dear senator; but trust me, this is not 
 Ihe moment for it." And this senator, like many 
 others, was quite satisfied with having spoken, 
 though his opinion was not in the least degree 
 acted upon. The feelings of self-imporrance 
 have prodigiously, greater influence over the 
 French than those of character-* 
 
i03» TEN years' exile. 
 
 Avery odd peculiarity in the French, and whicfa 
 Bonaparte has penetrated with great sagacity, is, 
 that they who are so ready to perceive what is 
 ridiculous in others, desire nothing better than to 
 render themselves ridiculous, as soon as their vanity 
 finds its account in it in some other way. Nothing 
 certainly presents a greater subject for pleasantry, 
 than the creation of an entirely new noblesse, such 
 as Bonaparte established for the support of his new 
 throne. The princesses and queens, citizenesses o£ 
 the day before, could not themselves refrain from 
 laughing at hearing themselves styled, your majes^ 
 ty. Others, more serious, delighted in having their 
 title of monseigneur repeated from morning to 
 night, like Moliere's City Gentleman. The old 
 archives were rumaged for the discovery of the 
 best documents on etiquette ; men of merit found a 
 grave occupation in making coats of armour for 
 the new/anjilies 5 finally, no day passed which did 
 not afford some scene worthy of the pen of Moliere ; 
 but the terror, which formed the back ground of 
 the picture, prevented the grotesque of the front 
 from being laughed at as it deserved to be. The 
 glory of the French generals illustrated all, and the 
 obsequious courtiers contrived to slide themselves 
 in, under the shadow of military men, who doubtless, 
 deserved the severe honours of a free slate, but not 
 the vain decorations of such a court. Valour and 
 gjenius descend from heaven, and whoever is gift- 
 ed with them has no need of other ancestors. The 
 distinctions which are accorded in republics or li- 
 mitcii monarchies ought 10 be the reward of services 
 rendered to the country, and every one may equally 
 pretend to them ; but nothing savours so much of 
 Tartar despotism as this crowd of honours em a- 
 
TEN years' exile. 109 
 
 Mating from one man, and having his caprice foi» 
 their source. 
 
 Puns without end were darted against this no- 
 bility of yesterday 5 and a thousand expressions of 
 the new ladies were quoted, which presumed little 
 acquaintance with good manners. And certainly 
 there is nothing so difficult to learn, as the kind of 
 politeness which is neither ceremonious nor familiar: 
 it seems a trifle, but it requires a foundation in our- 
 selves ; for no one acquires it, if it is not inspired 
 by early habits or elevation of mind. Bonaparte 
 himself is embarrassed on occasions of representa- 
 tion ; and frequently in his own family, and evea 
 with foreigners, he seems to feel delighted in re- 
 turning to those vulgar actions and expressions 
 which remind him of his revolutionary youths 
 Bonaparte knew very well that the Parisians made 
 pleasantries on his new nobility ; but he knew also 
 that their opinions would only be expressed in vul- 
 gar jokes, and not in strong actions. The energy 
 of the oppressed went not beyond the equivoque of 
 a pun 5 and as in the East they have been reduced 
 to the apologue, in France they sunk still lower, 
 namely, to the clashing of syllables. A single in- 
 stance of a jew c?e mo/5 deserves, however, to sur- 
 vive the ephemeral success of such productions ; 
 one day as the princesses of the blood were an- 
 noujiced, some one added, of the hlood of Enghien^ 
 And in truth, such was the baptism of this new dy- 
 nasty. 
 
 Several of the old nobility who had been ruined 
 by the revolution, were not unwilling to accept em- 
 ployments at court. It is well known by what a 
 gross insult Bonaparte rewarded their complaisance. 
 '■ I proposed to give them rank in ray army, and 
 
tlQ TEN years' exile. 
 
 the}^ declined it : I offered them places in the ad^ 
 ministration, and they refused them ; but when I 
 epened my anti-chambers, they rushed into them 
 in crowds." They had no longer any asylum but 
 in his power. Several gentlemen, on this occasion, 
 set an example of the most noble resistance ; but 
 how many others have represented themselves as 
 menaced before they had the least reason for ap- 
 prehension ! and how many more have solicited 
 for themselves or their families, employments at 
 court, which all of them ought to have spurned at ^ 
 The military or the administrative careers are the 
 only ones in which we can flatter ourselves with 
 being useful to our country, whoever may be the 
 chief who governs it; but employments at court 
 render you dependent on the man, and not on the 
 state. 
 
 Registers were made to receive votes for the 
 empire, like those which had been opened for the 
 consulship for life ; even a-ll those who did not 
 sign, were, as in the former instance, reckoned as 
 voting for ; and the small number of individuals 
 who thought proper to write no, were dismissed 
 from their employments. M. de Lafayette, the 
 constant friend of liberty, again exhibited an in- 
 variable resistance ; he had the greater merit, 
 because already in this country of bravery, they 
 no longer knew how to estimate courage. It is 
 quite necessary to make this distinction, as we see 
 the divinity of fear reign in France over the most 
 intrepid warriors. Bonaparte would not even 
 subjecthimseK tothe law of hereditary monarchy, 
 but reserved the power of adopting and choosing 
 his successor in the manner of the East. As he 
 had. then no children, be wished not to give Ms 
 
fEN tears' EXIIiE. lit 
 
 ^wn family the least right ; and at the very mo- 
 ment of his elevating them to ranks to which as- 
 suredly they had no pretensions, he subjected them 
 to his will by profoundly combined decrees, whick 
 entwined the new thrones with chains. 
 
 The fourteenth of July was again celebrated 
 this year, (1804,) because it was said the empire 
 consecrated all the benefits of the revolution, 
 Bonaparte had said that storms had strengthen- 
 ed the roots of government ; he pretended that 
 the throne would guaranty liberty: he repeated 
 in all manner of ways, that Europe would be tran- 
 quillized by the re-establishment of monarchy in 
 the government of France. In fact, the whole of 
 Europe, with the exception of illustrious England, 
 recognized his new dignity : he was styled my 
 brother^ by the knights of*the ancient royal brother- 
 hood. We have seen in what manner he has re- 
 warded them for their fatal condescension. If he 
 had been sincerely desirous of peace, even old 
 King George himself, whose reign has been the 
 most glorious in the English annals, would have 
 been obliged to recognize him as his equal. But, 
 a very few days after his coronation, Bonaparte 
 pronounced some words which disclosed all his 
 purposes : ** People laugh at my new dynasty ; in 
 five years time it will be the oldest in all Europe." 
 And from that moment he has never ceased tend- 
 ing toward this end. 
 
 A pretext was required, to be always advancing, 
 and this pretext was the liberty of the seas. It 
 is quite incredible how easy it is to make the most 
 intelligent people on earth swallow any nonsense 
 for gospel. It is still one of those contrasts which 
 -would be altogether inexplicable, if unhappy 
 
1121 TEN YEARS* EXILE. 
 
 France had not been stripped of religion and mo- 
 rality bj a fatal concurrence of bad principles and 
 unfortunate events. Without religion no man is 
 capable of any sacrifice, and as without morality 
 no one speaks the truth, public opinion is inces- 
 santly led astray. It follows, therefore, as we 
 have already said, that there is no courage of 
 conscience, even when that of honour exists : and 
 that with admirable intelligence in the execution, 
 no one even asks himself, what all this is to lead 
 to. 
 
 At the time that Bonaparte formed the resolu- 
 tion to overturn the thrones of the Continent, the 
 sovereigns who occupied them were all of them 
 very honourable persons. The political and mi- 
 litary genius of the world was extinct, but the 
 people were happy ; although the principles of 
 free constitutions were not admitted into the ge- 
 nerality of states, the philosophical ideas which 
 had for fifty years been spreading over Europe, 
 had at least the merit of preserving from intole- 
 rance, and mollifying the reign of despotism. 
 Catherine II. and Frederic IL both cultivated the 
 esteem of the French authors, and these two 
 monarchs, whose genius might have subjected the 
 world, lived in presence of the opinion of enlight- 
 ened men, and sought to captivate it. The na- 
 tural bent of men's minds was directed to the 
 enjoyment and application of liberal ideas, and 
 there was scarcely an individual who suffered 
 either in his person or in his property. The 
 friends of liberty were undoubtedly in the right, 
 in discovering that it was necessary to give the 
 faculties an opportunity of developing themselves; 
 that it was not just that a whole people should 
 
TEN years' exile. 113 
 
 depend on one man ; and that a national repre- 
 sentation afforded the only means of guarantying 
 the transitory benefits that might be derived from 
 the reign of a virtuous sovereign. But what 
 came Bonaparte to offer ? Did he bring a greater 
 liberty to foreign nations ? There was not a mo- 
 narch in Europe who would in a whole year have 
 committed the acts of arbitrary insolence which 
 signalized every day of his life. He came solely 
 to make them exchange their tranquillity, their 
 independence, their language, their laws, their 
 fortunes, their blood, and their children, for the 
 misfortune and the shame of being annihilated as 
 nations, and despised as men. He began finally 
 that enterprize of universal monarchy, which is 
 the greatest scourge by which mankind can be 
 menaced, and the certain cause of eternal 'war. 
 
 None of the arts of peace at all suit Bonaparte: 
 he finds no amusement but in the violent crises 
 produced by battles. He has known how to make 
 truces, but he has never said sincerely, enough; 
 and his character, irreconcilable with the rest of 
 the creation, is like the Greek fire, which no 
 strength in nature has been known to extinguish. 
 
 11 
 
ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 There is at this place in the manuscript 
 a considerable vacuum, of which I have al- 
 ready given an explanation,* and vrhich I am 
 not sufficiently informed to make the attempt 
 to fill up. But to put the reader in a situa- 
 tion to follow my mother's narrative, I will 
 run over rapidly the principal circumstances 
 of her life during the fivG years which sepa- 
 rate the first part of these memoirs from the 
 second. 
 
 On her return to Switzerland after the 
 death of her father, the first desire she felt 
 was to seek some alleviation of her sorrow 
 in giving to the world the portrait of him 
 whom she had just lost, and in collecting the 
 last traces of his thoughts. In the Autumn 
 of 1804, she published the MSS, of her fa- 
 
 * See the Preface. 
 
116 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 tber, with a sketch of his public and private 
 character. 
 
 My mother's health, impaired by misfor- 
 tune, necessitated her to go and breathe the 
 air of the South. She set out for Italy. The 
 beautiful sky of Naples, the recollections of 
 antiquity, and the chefs d'osuvre of art, open- 
 ed to her new sources of enjoyment, to which 
 she had been hitherto a stranger; her soul, 
 overwhelmed with grief, seemed to revive 
 to these ne^ impressions, and she recovered 
 sufficient strength to think and to write. 
 During this journey,' she was treated by 
 the diplomatic agents of France without 
 favour, but without injustice. She w^as 
 interdicted a residence at Paris: she was 
 banished from her friends and her habits; 
 but tyranny had not, at least at that time, 
 pursued her beyond the Alps; persecution 
 had not as yet been established as a system, 
 as it was afterwards. I even feel a real plea- 
 sure in mentioning that some letters of re- 
 commendation sent her by Joseph Bonaparte, 
 contributed to render her residence at Rome 
 more agreeable. 
 
 She returned from Italy in the summer of 
 1805, and passed a year at Coppet and Ge-^ 
 
BY THE EPITOR. 117 
 
 neva, where several of her friends were col- 
 lected. During this period she began to 
 write Confine. 
 
 During the following year, her attachment 
 to France, that feeling which had so much 
 power over her heart, made her quit Geneva 
 and go nearer to Paris, to the distance of 
 forty leagues from it, which was still permit- 
 ted to her. I was then pursuing my studies, 
 preparatory to entering into the Polytechnic 
 school ; and from her great goodness to her 
 children, she wished to watch over their edu- 
 cation, as near as her exile could allow her. 
 She went in consequence to settle at Auxerre, a 
 little town where she had no acquaintance, but 
 of which the prefect, M. de la Bergerie, be- 
 haved to her with great kindness and deli- 
 cacy. 
 
 From Auxerre she went to Rouen: this 
 
 was approaching some leagues nearer the 
 
 centre to which all the recollections and all 
 
 the affections of her youth attracted her. 
 
 There she could at least receive letters daily 
 
 from Paris ; she had penetrated without any 
 
 obstacle the inclosure, entrance into which 
 
 had been forbidden to her ; she might hope 
 
 11* 
 
1 1 8 ABtEnTlSEBfENT' 
 
 that the fatal circle would progressively be 
 contracted. Those only who have suffered 
 banishment will be able to understand what 
 passed in her heart. M. Savoie-Rollin was 
 then prefect of the Lower Seine ; it is well 
 known by what glaring injustice he was re- 
 moved some years afterwards, and I have 
 reason to believe that his friendship for my 
 mother, and the interest which he showed 
 for her during her residence at Rouen, were 
 no slight causes of the rigour of which he be- 
 came the object. 
 
 Fouche was still minister of police. His 
 system was, as my mother has said, to do as 
 little evil as possible, the necessity of the ob- 
 ject admitted. The Prussian monarchy had 
 just fallen ; there was no longer any enemy 
 upon the Continent to struggle with the go- 
 vernment of Napoleon ; no internal resistance 
 shackled his progress, or could aiford the 
 least pretext for the employment of arbitrary 
 measures ; what motive, therefore, could he 
 have for prolonging the most gratuitous per- 
 secution of my mother? Fouche then per- 
 mitted her to come and settle at the distance 
 of twelve leagues from Paris, upon an estate 
 
BY THE EDITOR. 119 
 
 belonging to M. de Castellane.There she finish- 
 ed Corinne, and superintended the printing of 
 it. In other respects, the retired life she 
 there led, the extreme prudence of her whole 
 conduct, and the very small number of persons 
 who were not prevented by the fear of disgrace 
 from coming to visit her, might have been 
 sufficient to tranquilize the most suspicious 
 despotism. But all this did not satisfy Bo- 
 naparte ; he wanted my mother to renounce 
 entirely the employment of her talents, ami to 
 interdict her from writing even upon subjects 
 the most unconnected with politics. It will 
 be seen that even at a later period this abne- 
 gation was not sufficient to preserve her 
 from a continually increasing persecution. 
 
 Scarcely had Corinne made her appear- 
 ance, when a new exile commenced for my 
 mother, and she saw all the hopes vanish, 
 with which she had for some months been 
 consoling herself. By a fatality which ren- 
 dered her grief more pungent, it was on the 
 9th of April, the anniversary of her father's 
 death, that the order which again banished 
 her from her country, and her friends, was 
 signified to her. She returned to Coppet, 
 
1:20 ADVERTI SEGMENT 
 
 with a bleeding heart, and the prodigious 
 success of Corinne afforded very little diver- 
 sion to her sorrow. 
 
 Friendship, however, succeeded in accom- 
 plishing what literary glory had failed to do ; 
 and, thanks to the proofs of affection which 
 she received on her return to Switzerland, 
 the summer passed more agreeably than she 
 could have hoped. Several of her friends 
 left Paris to come to see her, and Prince 
 Augustus of Prussia, to whom peace had re- 
 stored his liberty, did us the honour to stop 
 several months at Coppet, prior to his return 
 to his native country. 
 
 Ever since her journey to Berlin, which 
 had been so cruelly interrupted by the death 
 of her father, my mother had regularly con- 
 tinued the study of the German literature 
 and philosophy ; but a new residence in Ger- 
 many was necessary to enable her to com- 
 plete the picture of that country, which she 
 proposed to present to France. In the au- 
 tumn of 1 807, she set out for Vienna, and 
 she there once more found, in the society of 
 the Prince de Ligne, of Princess Lubomirski 
 &c. Sic. that urbanity of manners and ease of 
 
BY THE EDITOR. 1^1 
 
 conversation, which had such charms in her 
 ejes. The Austrian government, exhausted 
 bj the war, had not then the strength to be 
 an oppressor on its own account, and, not- 
 withstanding, preserved toward France an 
 attitude which was not without dignity and 
 independence. The objects of Napoleon's 
 hatred might still find an asylum at Vienna ; 
 the year she passed in that city was, therefore, 
 the most tranquil one she had enjoyed since 
 the commencement of her exile. 
 
 On her return to Switzerland, where she 
 spent two years in writing her reflections on 
 Germany, she was not long in perceiving the 
 progress which the imperial tyranny was 
 every day making, and the contagious rapid- 
 ity with which the passion for places, and the 
 fear of disgrace, were spreading. No doubt 
 several friends, both at Geneva and in France, 
 preserved to her during her misfortunes a 
 courageous and unshaken fidelity ; hut, who- 
 ever had any connection with the government, 
 or aspired to any employment, began to keep 
 at a distance from her house, and to dissuade 
 timid people from approaching it. My mo- 
 ther suffered a great deal from ail these symp- 
 
122 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 toms of servitude, which she detected with 
 incomparable sagacity ; but the more unhap- 
 py she was, the more she felt the desire 
 of diverting from the persons w^ho were 
 about her, the miseries of her situation, and 
 of diffusing around her that life and intellec- 
 tual movement, which solitude seemed to ex- 
 clude. 
 
 Her talent for declamation was the means 
 of amusement which had the greatest influ- 
 ence over herself, at the same time that it 
 varied the pleasures of her society. It was 
 at this period,and while she was still labouring 
 on her great work on Germany, that she 
 composed and played at Coppet, the greater 
 part of the little pieces which are collected 
 in the 16th volume of her works,* under the 
 title of Dramatic Essays* 
 
 Finally, at the beginning of summer, 1810, 
 having finished the three volumes of Germa- 
 ny, she wished to go and superintend the 
 printing of them, at 40 leagues distance from 
 Paris, a distance which was still permitted 
 to her, and where she might hope to see 
 
 * Or the Second Volume of her (Euvres incdiies. 
 
By THE EDITOR. 123 
 
 again those of her old friends, whose affec- 
 tions had not bent before the disgrace of the 
 Emperor. 
 
 She went, therefore, to reside in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Blois, in the old castle of Chau- 
 mont-sur- Loire, which had in former times 
 been inhabited by the Cardinal d' Amboise, 
 Diana of Poitiers, and Catherine de Medicis. 
 The present proprietor of this romantic resi- 
 dence, M. Le Ray, with whom my parents 
 were connected by the ties of friendship and 
 business, was then in America. But just at 
 the time we were occupying his chateau, he 
 returned from the United States with his 
 family, and though he was very urgent in 
 wishing us to remain in his house, the more 
 he pressed us politely to do so, the more anx- 
 iety we felt, lest we should incommode him. 
 M. de Salaberry relieved us from embarrass- 
 ment with the greatest kindness, by placing at 
 our disposal his house at Fosse. At this period 
 my mother's narrative recommences. 
 
 ^; 
 
PART THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Suppression of my Work on Germany* — Banish^' 
 mentfrom France, 
 
 Being unable to remain longer in the castle of 
 Chaumont, the proprietors of vyhi; h had returned 
 froH] America, I went and fixed myself at a farm 
 called Fosse, which a generous friend lent me.* 
 The house was inhabited by a Vendean soluier, 
 who certainly did not keep it in the nicest order, 
 but who had a loyal good nature that made every 
 thing easy, and an originality of character that 
 was very amusing. Scarcely had we arrived, 
 when an ItaHan musician, whom I had with me 
 to give lessons to my daughter, began playing 
 upon the guitar; my daughter accompanied upon 
 the harp the sweet voice of my beautiful friend 
 Madame Recamier; the peasants collected round 
 the windows, astonished to see this colony of trou- 
 badoursj which had come to enliven the solitude of 
 their master. It was there I passed my last days 
 in France, with some friends, whose recollection 
 lives in my heart. Certainly this intimate assem- 
 blage, this solitary residence, this agreeable occu- 
 
 * M. de Salaberry. 
 12 
 
126 TEN years' exile* 
 
 pation with the fine arts did no harm to any one. 
 We frequently sung a charming air composed by 
 the Queen of Holland, and of which the burden is: 
 Do zohat you ought, happen what may* After din- 
 ner, we had imagined the idea of seating ourselves 
 round a green table, and writing letters to each 
 other, instead of conversing. These varied and 
 multiplied tetes-a-tetes amused us so much, that 
 we were impatient to get from table, where we 
 were talking, in order to go and write to one 
 another. When any strangers came in accident- 
 ally, we could not bear the interruption of our 
 habits; Oind our penny post (k is thus we called 
 it) always went its round. The inhabitants of the 
 neighbouring town were somewhat astonished at 
 these new manners, and looked upon them as 
 pedantic, while there was nothing in this game, 
 but a resource against the monotony of solitude. 
 One day a gentleman of the neighbourhood, who 
 had never thought of any thing in his life but the 
 chase, came to take my boys with him into the 
 woods ; he remained some time seated at our active 
 but silent table; Madame Recamier wrote a little 
 note with her beautiful hand to this jolly sports- 
 man, in order that he might not be too much a 
 stranger to the circle in which he was placed. 
 He excused himself from receiving it, assuring us 
 that he could never read writing by day-light: 
 we laughed a little at the disappointment which 
 the benevolent coquetry of our heautiful frund 
 had mf t wi-b, and thought that a billet from her 
 hand would not have always had the same fate. 
 Our liie passed in this manner, without any of us, 
 if I may judge from myself, finding the time at al! 
 burdensome. 
 
TEN years' exile. 127 
 
 The opera of Cinderella was making a great 
 noise at Paris; I wished to go and see it repre- 
 sented at a paltry provincial theatre at Blois. 
 Coming out of the theatre on foot, the people of 
 <he place followed me in crowds from curiosity, 
 more desirous of knowing me because I was an 
 exile, than from any other motive. This kind of 
 celebrity which I derived from misfortune, much 
 more than from talent, displeased the minister of 
 police, who wrote some time after to the prefect of 
 Loir and Cher, that I was surrounded by a court. 
 " Certainly,'* said I to the prefect,* " it is not 
 power at least which gives it me.'' 
 
 I had always the intention of repairing to 
 England by the way of America ; but I was anxious 
 to terminate my work on Germany. The season 
 was now advancing ; we were already at the fif- 
 teenth of September, and I began to foresee that 
 the difEcuity of embarking my daughter with me 
 would detain me another winter, in sooic town, I 
 knew not where, at forty leagues from Paris. I 
 was then desirous that it should be Vendome, 
 where I knew several clever people, and where 
 the communication with the capital was easy. 
 After having formerly had one of the most brilliant 
 establishments in Paris, I was now contented to 
 anticipate considerable pleasure from establishing 
 myself at Vendome ; fate however denied me even 
 this modest happiness. 
 
 On the 23d of September T corrected the last 
 proof of Germany; after six years' labour, I felt the 
 greatest delight in putting the word end to my three 
 volumes. 1 made a list of one hundred persons to 
 
 * M. de Corbigny, an amiable and intelligent man. 
 
128 TKN YEAKS' EXILI* 
 
 whom I wished to send copies, in different parts of 
 France and Europe; I attached great importance 
 to this book, which I thought well adapted to com- 
 municate new ideas to France ; it appeared to me 
 that a sentiment elevated, without being hostile, had 
 inspired it, and that people would find in it a lan- 
 guage which was no longei* spoken. 
 
 Furnished with a letter from my publisher, which 
 assured me that the censorship had authorized the 
 publicatioo of my work, I believed that I had no- 
 thing to apprehend, and set out with my friends for 
 an estate of M. Mathieu de Montmorency, at five 
 leagues from Blois. The house belonging to this 
 estate is situated in the middle of a forest j there I 
 walked .about with the man whom I most respect 
 in the w(^rldj since I have lost my father. The 
 fineness of the weather, the magnificence of 
 the forest, the historical recollections which the 
 place recalled, being the scene of the battle of 
 Fretteval, fought between Philip Augustus and 
 Richard Coeurde-Lion, all contributed to fill my 
 mind with the most quiet and delightful impressions. 
 My worthy friend, who is only occupied in this 
 world with rendering himself worthy of heaven, in 
 this conversation, as in all those we have had to- 
 gether, paid no attention to affairs of the day, and 
 only sought to do good to my sohI. We resumed 
 our journey the next day, and in these plains of 
 the Vendomois, where you meet not with a single 
 habitation, and which like the sea seem to present 
 every where the same appearance, we contrived to 
 lose ourselves completely. It was already midnight, 
 and we knew not what road to take, in a country 
 every where the same, and where fertility is as mo- 
 notonous as sterility is elsewhere, when a young 
 
TEN tears' exile. 12^ 
 
 » 
 
 man on horseback, perceiving our embarrassment, 
 came and requested us to pass the night in the cha- 
 teau of his parents.* We accepted his invitation, 
 which was doing us a real service, and we found 
 ourselves all of a sudden in the midst of the luxury 
 of Asia, and the elegance of France. The masters 
 of the house had spent a considerable time in India, 
 and their chateau was adorned with every thing 
 they had brought back from their travels. This 
 residence excited my curiosity, and I found myself 
 extremely comfortable in it. Next day M. de Mont- 
 morency gave me a note from my son which press- 
 ed me to return home, as my work had met with 
 fresh difficulties from the censorship.f My friends 
 who were with me in the chateau conjured me to 
 go; I had not the least suspicion of what they were 
 concealing from me, and thinking there was nothhig 
 but what Augustus's letter mentioned, I whiied away 
 the time in examining the Indian curiosities, witb-= 
 out any idea of what was in store for me At last 
 I got into the carriage, and my brave and intelli- 
 gent Vendean, whom his own dangers had never 
 moved, squeezed my hand, with tears iii his eyes : 
 
 ■* The chateau of Conan, belonging to M. Chevalier, now pre- 
 fect of the Var. -**' 
 
 t Uneasy at not seeing my mother arrive, I took horse to go 
 and meet her, in order to soften as much as was in my power, 
 the nevi^s which she had to learn upon her return ; but I lost my- 
 self, like her, in the uniform plains of the Vendomois, and it was 
 only in the middle of the night that a fortunate chance conduct- 
 ed me to the gate of the chateau where the rites of hospitality 
 had been given to her. I caused M. de Montmorency to be 
 awakened, and after having informed him of this new instance 
 of the persecution which the imperial police directed agalust my 
 mother, I set off again to finish putting her papers in safe^y^ 
 leaving to M de Montmorency the charge of preparing her fo 
 the new blow with which she was threatened. 
 
 (jroteofthcEdUor.) 
 
 12* 
 
130 TEN years' exile, 
 
 I guessed immediately that they were making a 
 mystery to me of some new persecution, and M. 
 de Montmorency, in reply to my interrogations, at 
 last acquainted me that the minister of the police 
 bad sent his myrmidons to destroy the ten thou- 
 sand copies which had been printed of my book, and 
 that I had received an order to quit France within 
 three days. My children and friends had wished 
 me not to hear this news while I was among stran- 
 gers; but they had taken every possible precaution 
 to prevent the seizure of my manuscript, and they 
 succeeded in saving itj some hours before I was re- 
 quired to deliver it up. 
 
 1'his new blow affected me most severely. I 
 had flattered mvself with an honourable success 
 by the publication of my book : if the censors 
 had, in the first instance, refused to authorize its 
 being printed, that would have appeared to me 
 very simple ; but after having submitted to all 
 their observations, and made all the alterations 
 required of me, to learn that my work was de- 
 stroyed, and that I must separate myself from 
 the friends who had supported my courage, ail 
 this made me shed tears. But I endeavoured 
 once more to get the better of my feelings, in 
 order to determine what was best to be done in a 
 crisis where the step I was about to take might have 
 so much influence on the fortunes of my family. 
 As we drew near my habitation, I gave my 
 writing desk, which contained some further 
 notes upon my book, to my yourigest son ; he 
 jumped oyer a wall to get into the house by the 
 garden. An English lady,* my excellent friend, 
 
 * Miss RandalK 
 
?rEN years' exile. 131 
 
 came out to meet me, and inform me of all that 
 had happened. I observed, at a distance, some 
 gendarmes who were wandering round mj resi- 
 dence, but it did not appear that thej were in 
 search of me: they were, no doubt, in pur^^uit 
 of some other unfortunate^, conscripts, exiles, 
 persons fn surveillance, or, in short, of some of 
 the niamerous classes of oppressed which the 
 present government of France has created. 
 
 The prefect of Loir and Cher came to require 
 the delivery of my manuscript : I gave him, 
 merely to gain time, a rough copy v/hich remain- 
 ed with me, and with which he was satisfied. I 
 have learned that he was extremely ill-treated a 
 few months afterwards, to punish him for having 
 shown me some attention: and the chagrid he 
 felt at having incurred the disgrace of the etnpe- 
 ror, was, it is said, one of the causes of the ill- 
 ness which carried him off in the prime of life. 
 Unfortunate country, where the circumstances 
 are such, that a man of his understanding and 
 talent should sink under the chagrin of disgrace ! 
 
 I saw in the papers, that some American ves- 
 sels had arrived in the ports of the Channel, and 
 I determined to make use of my passport for 
 America, in the hope that it would be possible 
 to touch at an English port. At all evenrs, 1 re- 
 quired some days to prepare for this voyage, and 
 1 was obliged to address myself to the minisJer 
 of police to ask for that indulgence. It has been 
 already seen that the custom of the French 
 government is to order women, as well as sol- 
 diers, to depart within twenty-four hours. Here 
 
132 TEN years' exile. 
 
 follows the minister's reply i it is curious to ob- 
 serve his style.* 
 
 " GENERAL POLICE. 
 
 " Minister's Cabinet* 
 
 " Paris, 3d October, 1810. 
 
 ** I have received the letter, madam, which 
 you did me the honour to write to me. Your 
 son will have informed you that I saw no impro- 
 priety in you delaying your departure for seven 
 or eight days : 1 hope they will be sufficient for 
 the arrangements which you have yet to make, 
 as I cannot grant you any more. 
 
 " You must not seek for the cause of the order 
 which I have signified to you, in the silence which 
 you have observed with regard to the emperor in 
 your last work ; that would be a great mistake ; 
 he could find no place there which was worthy of 
 him ; but your exile is a natural consequence of 
 the line of conduct you have constantly pursued 
 for several years past. It has appeared ^o me 
 that the air of this country did not at all agree 
 with you, and we are not yet reduced to seek for 
 models in the nations whom you admire. 
 
 *^ Your last work is not at all French; it is by 
 my orders that the impression has been seized. I 
 regret the loss which it will occasion to the book- 
 seller; but it is not possible for me to allow it to 
 appear. 
 
 " You know, madam, that you would not have 
 been permitted to quit Coppet but for the desire 
 
 * This is the same letter which was printed in the Preface to 
 Gtrmam/. {Mote of the Editor,) 
 
TEN YEARS EXILE. 13* 
 
 you had expressed to go to America. If my pre- 
 decessor allowed you to reside in the department 
 of Loir and Cher, you had no reason to look upon 
 this license as any revocation of the arrangements 
 which had been fixed with regard to you. At 
 present you compel me to make them be strictly 
 executed ; for this you have no one to blame but 
 yourself. 
 
 '^ I have signified to M. Corbigny* to look to 
 the punctual execution of the order I have given 
 him, as soon as the term I grant, you is expired. 
 
 *' I regret extremely, madam, that you have 
 forced me to begin my correspondence with you 
 hy an act of severity ; it would have been much 
 more agreeable to me to have only had to offer 
 you the assurance of the high consideration with 
 which I have the honour to be, madam, 
 " Your most humble, and 
 
 most obedient servant, 
 
 Signed^ The Duke or Rovigo. 
 
 " P. S. I have reasons, madam, for mention- 
 ing to you, that the ports of Lorient, La Rochelle, 
 Bourdeaux and Rochefort, are the only ones in 
 which you can embark. I request you to let mo 
 know which of them you select.''! 
 
 The stale hypocrisy with which I was told that 
 the air of this country did not agree with me, and 
 the denial of the real cause of the suppression of 
 my book, are worthy of remark. In fact, the 
 minister of police had shown more frankness in 
 expressing himself verbally respecting me; he 
 
 * Prefect of Loir and Cher. 
 
 t This postcript is easily understood j its object was to pre- 
 vent me from going to England. 
 
134 TEN years' exile. 
 
 asked why I never named the emperor or the 
 army in my work on Germany ? On its being ob- 
 jected that the work being purely Hterary, I could 
 not well have introduced such subjects, '' Do you 
 think,'' then replied the minister, " that we have 
 made war for eighteen years in Germany, and 
 that a person of such celebrity should print a book 
 upon it, without saying a word about us ? This 
 book shall be destroyed, and tbe author deserves 
 to be sent to Vincennes." 
 
 On receiving the letter of the minister of po- 
 lice, I paid no attention to any part but that pas- 
 sage of it which interdicted me the ports of the 
 channel. I had already learned, that suspecting 
 my intention of going to England, they would en- 
 deavour to prevent me. This new mortification 
 was really above my strength to bear ; on quit- 
 ting my native country, I must go to that of ray 
 adoption ; in banishing myself from the friends of 
 my whole life, I required at least to find those 
 friends of whatever is good and noble, with whom, 
 without knowing them personally, the soul always 
 sympathises. . I saw at once all that supported 
 my imagination crumbling to pieces ; for a mo- 
 ment longer I would have embarked on board any 
 vessel bound for America, in the hope of her 
 being captured on her passage ; but 1 was too 
 much shaken to decide at once on so strong a re- 
 solution ; and as the two alternatives of America 
 and Coppet were the only ones that were left 
 me, I determined on accepting the latter ; for a 
 profound sentiment always attracted me to Cop- 
 pet, in spite of the disagreeables I was there sub- 
 jected to. 
 
 My two sons both endeavoured to see the empe- 
 ror at Fontainbleau, where he then was ; they 
 
TEN years' exile. 135 
 
 were told they would be arrested if they remaioed 
 there ; a fortiori, I was interdicted from going to 
 it myself. I was obliged to return into Switzer- 
 land from Blois, where I was, without approaching 
 Paris nearer than forty leagues. The minister of 
 police had given notice, in corsair terms, that at 
 thirty-eight leagues / was a good prize. In this 
 manner, when the emperor exercised the arbitrary 
 power of banishment, neither the exiled persons, 
 nor their friends, nor even their children, can reach 
 his presence to plead the cause of the unfortunates 
 who are thus torn from the objects of their affec- 
 tion and their habits ; and these sentences of exile, 
 which are now irrevocable, particularly where wo- 
 men are the objects, and wfjich the emperor him- 
 self has rightly termed proscriptions^ are pronoun- 
 ced without the possibility of making any j ustifica- 
 tion be heard, supposing always that the crime of 
 having displeased the emperor admits of any. 
 
 Although the forty leagues were ordered me, I 
 was necessitated to pass through Orleans, a very 
 dull town, but inhabited by several very pious 
 ladies, who had retired thither for an asylum. In 
 walking about the town on foot I stopped before 
 the monument erected to the memory of Joan of 
 Arc: certainly, thought I to myself, when she deli- 
 vered France from the power of the English, that 
 same France was much more free, much more 
 Fraace than it is at present. One feels a singular 
 sensation in wandering through a town, where you 
 neither know, nor are known to a soul. I felt a 
 kind ofbUter enjoyment in picturing to myself uiy 
 isolated siiuation in its fullest extent, and in still 
 looking at that France which I was about to quit, 
 perhaps for ever, without speaking to a person, or 
 
136 TEJVf YEARS* EXILE. 
 
 being diverted from Ihe impression which the 
 country itself made upon me. Occasionally per- 
 sons stopped to look at me, from the circumstance 
 I suppose of my countenance having, in spite of me, 
 an expression of grief ; but they soon went on again, 
 as it is long since mankind have been accustomed 
 to witness persons suffering. 
 
 At ^dy leagues from the Swiss frontiers, France 
 is bristled with citadels, houses of detention, and 
 towns serving as prisons ; and every where you 
 see nothing but individuals deprived of their liberty 
 by the will of one man, conscripts of misfortune, 
 all chained at a distance from the place where they 
 would have wished to live. At Dijon, some Span- 
 ish prisoners, who had refused to take the oath, 
 regularly came e\eiy day to the market place to 
 fee) tile sun at noon, as they then regarded him 
 rather as their countiyman ; they wrapt themselves 
 up in a mande, frequently in rags, but which they 
 knew how to wear with grace, and they gloried in 
 their ujisery, as it arose from their boldness ; they 
 hugged themselves in their sufferings, as associa- 
 ting them with the misfortunes of their intrepid 
 country. They were sometimes seen going into 
 a coffee house, solely to read the newspaper, in order 
 to penetrate the fate of their friends through the 
 lies of their enemies ; their countenances were then 
 immoveable, but not without expression, exhibit- 
 ing strength under the command of their will. 
 F rtlier on, at Auxonne, was the residence of the 
 Ei.glish prisoners, ^»'ho had the day before saved 
 from fire o ie of the houses of the town where they 
 were kept coatioed. |At ^Besao^on, there were 
 more Spaoiardsc Among the French exiles to be 
 met with in every part of France, an angehc crea- 
 
TEN years' exile. 137 
 
 lure inhabited the citadel of Besan§on, in order not 
 to quit her father. For a long period, and amidst 
 every sort of danger, Mademoiselle de Saint Simon 
 shared the fortunes of him who had given her 
 birth. 
 
 At the entrance of Switzerland, on the top of 
 the mountains which separate it from France, you 
 see the castle of Joux, in which prisoners of state 
 are detained, whose names frequently never reach 
 the ear of their relations. In this prison Toussaint 
 Louverture actually perished of cold ; he deserved 
 his fate on account of his cruelty, but the ernperor 
 had the least right to inflict it upon him, as he had 
 engaged to guarantee to him his life and liberty. 
 1 passed a day at the foot of this castle, during 
 very dreadful weather, and 1 could not help think- 
 ing of this negro transported all at once into the 
 Alps, and to whom this residence was the hell of 
 ice ; I thought of the more noble beings, who had 
 been shut up there, of those who were still groan- 
 ing in it, and I said to myself also that if I was 
 there, I should never quit it with life. It is impossi- 
 ble to convey an idea to the small number of free 
 nations which remain upon the earth, of that ab- 
 sence of all security, the habitual state of the human 
 creatures who live under the empire of Napoleon. 
 In other despotic governments there are laws and 
 customs, and a religion, which the sovereign never 
 infringes, however absolute he may be ; but in 
 France, and in Europe France, as every thing is 
 new, the past can be no guarantee, and every 
 thing may be feared as well as hoped, according as 
 you serve, or not, the interests of the man who 
 dares to propose himself as the sole object of the 
 existence of the Vhoie human race. 
 
 13 
 
CHAPTER n. 
 
 Returndo Coppet, — Dijferent persecutions. 
 
 In returning to Coppet, dragging my wing like 
 the pigeon in Lafontaine, I saw the rainbow rise 
 over my father's house ; I dared take my part in 
 this token of the covenant ; there had been nothing 
 in my sorrowful journey to prevent me from as- 
 piring to it. I was then almost resigned to living 
 in this chateau, renouncingtheidea of ever publish- 
 ing more on any subject ; but it was at least ne- 
 cessary, in making the sacrifice of talents, which I 
 flattered myself with possessing, to find happiness 
 in my afl^ections, and this is the manner in which 
 my private life was arranged, after having stript 
 me of my literary existence. 
 
 The first order received by the prefect of Gene- 
 va, was to intimate to my two sons, that they were 
 interdicted going into France without a new per- 
 mission of the police. This was to punish them for 
 having wished to speak to Bonaparte in favour of 
 their mother. Thus the morality of the present 
 government is to loosen family ties, in order to 
 substitute in all cases the emperor's will. Several 
 generals have been mentioned as declaring, that if 
 Napoleon ordered them to throw their wives and 
 children into the river, they would not hesitate to 
 obey him. The translation of this is, that they 
 prefer the money which the emperor gives them, to 
 the family which they have from nature. There 
 are many instances of this way of thinking, but 
 
TEN YEARS EXILE. 139 
 
 there are fevv who would have impudence enough 
 to give utterance to it. I felt a mortal grief at see- 
 ing for the first time my situation bear upon my 
 sons, scarcely entered into Ijfe. We feel ourselves 
 very firm in our own condXict, when it is founde<i 
 on sincere conviction 5 but when others begin to 
 suffer on our account, it is almost impossible to 
 keep from reproaching ourselves. Both my sons, 
 however, most generously diverted this feeling from 
 me, and we supported each other mutually by the 
 recollection of my father. 
 
 A few days afterwards the prefect of Geneva 
 wrote me a second letter, to require me, in the name 
 of the minister of police, to deliver up the proof 
 sheets of my book which were still in ray hands ; 
 the minister knew exactly the number I had sent 
 and kept, and his spies had done their duty well. 
 In my answer, I gave him the satisfaction of ad- 
 mitting that he had been correctly informed ; but 
 I told him, at the same time, that this copy was not 
 in Switzerland, and that I neither could nor would 
 give it up. I added, however, that I would en- 
 gage never to have it printed on the Continent, 
 and I had no great merit in making this promise, 
 for what continental government would then have 
 suffered the publication of any book forbidden by 
 the emperor ? 
 
 A short time afterwards, the prefect of Geneva* 
 was dismissed, and it was generally believed on my 
 account ; he was one of my friends, yet he had not 
 deviated one iota from the orders he had received : 
 although he was one of the most honourable and 
 
 * M. de Barante, father of M. Prosper de Barante, member of 
 the Chamber of Peers. 
 
140 TEN years' exile. 
 
 enlightened men in France, his principles Jed him 
 to the scrupulous obedience of the government, 
 whose servant he was ; but no ambitious view, or 
 personal calculation, gave him the zeal required. 
 It was another great source of chagrin to be, or to 
 be regarded as being, the cause of the dismissal of 
 such a man. He was generally regretted in his 
 department, and from the moment it was believed 
 that I was the cause of his disgrace, all who had 
 any pretensions to places avoided my house as 
 they would the most fatal contagion. There still 
 remained to me, however, at Geneva, more friends 
 than any other provincial town in France could 
 have offered me ; for the inheritance of liberty has 
 left in that city much generous feeling ; but it is 
 impossible to have an idea of the anxiety one feels, 
 when one is afraid of compromising those who 
 come to visit you. I made a point of getting the 
 most exact information of all the relations of any 
 lady before I invited her ; for if she had only a 
 cousin who wanted a place, or had one, it was de- 
 manding an act of Roman heroism to expect her 
 to come and dine with me. 
 
 At last, in the month of March, 1811, a new pre- 
 fect arrived from Paris. He was a man admirably 
 well adapted to the reigning system : that is to say, 
 having a very general acquaintance with facts, 
 coupled with a total absence of principles in mat- 
 ters of government ; calling every fixed rule mere 
 abstraction, and placing his conscience in devotion 
 to the reigning power. The first time I saw him, 
 he told me that talents like mine were made to ce- 
 lebrate the emperor, who was a subject well worthy 
 of the kind of enthusiasm which I had shown in 
 Corinna. I gave him for answer, that persecuted 
 
TEN years' exile. 141 
 
 as I was by the emperor, any thing like praise of 
 him coming from me, would have the ah- of a peti- 
 tion, and that 1 was persuaded that the emperor 
 himself would find my eulogiums very ridiculous 
 under such circumstances. He combatted this opi- 
 nion very strongl}' : he returned to my house seve- 
 ral times to beg me, in the name of my own inte- 
 rest, as he styled it, to write something in favour of 
 the emperor, were it but a sheet of four pages ; that 
 would be sufficient, he assured me, to put an end 
 to all the disagreeables I suffered. He repeated 
 what he told me to every person of my acquaint- 
 ance. Finally, one day he came to propose to me 
 to celebrate in verse the birth of the king of Rome : 
 I told him, laughing, that 1 had not a single idea 
 on the subject, and that 1 should confine myself to 
 wishes for his having a good nurse. This ji)ke 
 put an end to the prefect's negotiations with me, 
 upon the necessity of my writing in favour of the 
 present government. 
 
 A short time afterwards the physicians ordered 
 my youngest son the baths of Aix, in Savoy, at 
 twenty leagues from Coppet. 1 cliose the early 
 part of May to go tijere,a time of the year when the 
 waters are quite deserted. 1 gave the prefect no- 
 tice of this little journey, and went to shut myself 
 up in a kind of village, where there was not at the 
 time a single person of my acquaintance. I had 
 hardly been there ten days, before a courier arri- 
 ved from the prefect of Geneva to order me to re- 
 turn. The prefect of Mont-Blanc, in whose de- 
 partment 1 was, was also afraid lest I should leave 
 Aix to go to England, as he said, to write against 
 the emperor; and although London was not very 
 near to Aix, in Savoy, he sent his gendarmes every 
 
 la* 
 
142 TEN years' exile. 
 
 where about, to forbid my being furnished with 
 post horses on the road. I am at present tempted 
 to laugh at all this prefectorial activity against a 
 poor thing like myself; but at that time the very 
 sight of a gendarme was enough to make me die 
 with fright. I was always alarmed lest from a ba- 
 nishment so rigorous, the change might shortly be 
 to a prison, which was to me more terrible than 
 death itself. I knew that if I was once arrested, 
 that if this eclat were once got over, the emperor 
 would not allow himself again to be spoken to 
 about me, even if any one had the courage to do 
 so ; which was not very probable at that court, 
 where terror was the prevailing sentiment every 
 minute of the day, and in the most trifling concerns 
 of life. 
 
 On my return to Geneva, the prefect signified 
 to me not only that he forbid me from going under 
 any pretence to the countries united to France, 
 but that he advised me not to travel in Switzer- 
 land, and never to go in any direction beyond two 
 leagues from Coppet. I objected to him that be- 
 ing domiciliated in Switzerland, I did not clearly 
 understand by what right a French aulhoriiy could 
 forbid me ivom travelling in a foreign country. 
 The prefect no doubt thought me rather a simple- 
 ton to discuss at that moment a point of right, and 
 repeated his advice to me in a tone singularly 
 approaching to an order. I confined myself to 
 my protest : but the very next day 1 learned Ihat 
 one of the most distinguished literati of Germany, 
 M Scblegel, who had for eight years been em- 
 ployed in the education of my sons, had received 
 an order not only to leave Geneva, but to quit 
 Goppei. I wished still to represent that in Swit* 
 
TEN years' exile. 143 
 
 zerland the prefect of Geneva had no orders to 
 give ; but I was told, that if I liked better to re- 
 ceive this order through the French ambassador, 
 I might be gratified: that the anfibassador would 
 address the landamann, and the landamann would 
 apply to the canton of Vaud, who would imme- 
 diately send M. Schlegel from my house. By ma- 
 king despotism go this round about, I might have 
 gained ten days, but nothing more. I then wished 
 to know why I was deprived of the society of M. 
 Schlegel, my own friend, and that of my children. 
 The prefect, who was accustomed, like the great- 
 er part of the emperor's agents, to couple very 
 smooth words with very harsh acts, told me that 
 it was from regard to me that the government 
 banished M Schlegel from my house, as he made 
 me an Anti-gallican. Much affected bythis proof 
 of the paternal care of the government, I asked 
 what Mr. S. had ever done against France : the 
 prefect objected to his literary opinions, and re- 
 ferred among other things to a pamphlet of his, in 
 which, in a comparison between the Phedra of 
 Euripides and that of Racine, he had given the 
 preference to the former. How very delicate lor 
 a Corsican monarch to take in this manner act 
 and cause for the slightest shades of French lite- 
 rature! But the real truth was, M. Schlegel was 
 banished because he was my friend, because his 
 conversation animated my solitude, and because 
 the system was now begun to be acted upon, 
 which soon became evident, of making a prison of 
 my soul, in tearing from me every enjoyment of 
 intellect and friendship. 
 
 I resumed the resolution of leaving Switzerland, 
 which the pain of quitting my friends, and the 
 
144 TEN years' EXILt:. 
 
 ashes of my parents, had made me so often give 
 up ; but there remained a very difScuIt problem 
 to solve, and that was to find the means of depar- 
 ture. The French government threw so many 
 difficulties in the way of a passport for America, 
 that I durst no longer think of that plan. Besides, 
 I had reason to be afraid lest at the moment of 
 my embarkation they should pretend to have dis- 
 covered that I was going to England, and that the 
 decree might be applied to me, which condemned 
 to imprisonment all who attempted to go there 
 without the authority of the government. It 
 seemed to me, therefore, much preferable to go to 
 Sweden, that honourable country, whose new chief 
 already gave indications of the glorious conduct 
 which he has since known how to sustain. But 
 by what road to get to Sweden ? The prefect had 
 given me to understand in all ways, that vv^herever 
 France commanded, I should be arrested; and 
 how was I to reach the point where she did not 
 command ? I must necessarily pass through Rus- 
 sia, as the whole of Germany was under the 
 French dominion. But to get to Russia, I must 
 cross Bavaria and Austria. I could trust myself 
 in the Tyrol, although it was united to a state of 
 the confederation, on account ot'the courage which 
 its unfortunate inhabitants had shown. As to Aus- 
 trta, in spite of the fatal debasement into which 
 she had sunk, I had sufficient confidence in her 
 monarch to believe that he would not deliver m.e 
 up ; but I knew also that he could not defend me. 
 After having sacrificed the ancient honour of his 
 house, what strength retnained lo him of any kind? 
 I spent my days therefore, in studying the map of 
 Europe to escape from it, as Napoleon studied it 
 
TEN years' exile 145 
 
 o make himself its master, and my campaign, as 
 well as his, always had Russia for its field. This 
 power was the last asylum of the oppressed; it 
 was therefore that which the conqueror of Europe 
 wished to overthrow. 
 
eHAPTER III. 
 
 Journey in Switzerland zuith M. de Montrnorency, 
 
 DetermItJed to go by the way of Russia, I re* 
 quired sipassport to enter it. Bat a fresh difficulty 
 occurred ; I must write to Petersburgh to obtain 
 this passport t such was the formality which cir- 
 cumstances rendered necessary ; and although I 
 was certain of meeting with no refusal from the 
 known generous character of the emperor Alexan- 
 der, I had reason to be afraid that in the ministerial 
 offices it might be mentioned that I had asked for a 
 passport, and in that way get to the French am- 
 bassador's ears, which would lead to my arrest, and 
 prevent me from executing my project. It was ne- 
 cessary, therefore, to go first to Vienna, to ask for 
 my passport from thence, and there wait for it. The 
 six weeks which would be required to send my let- 
 ter and receive an answer, would be passed under 
 the protection of a ministry which had given the 
 archduchess of Austria to Bonaparte ; — could I trust 
 myself to it ? It was clear, however, that by re- 
 maining as a hostage, under the hand of Napoleon, 
 I not only renounced the exercise of my own ta- 
 lents, but I prevented my sons from following any 
 public career; they could enter into no service, ei- 
 ther for Bonaparte or against him ; it was impossi- 
 ble to find an establishment for my daughter, as it 
 was necessary either to separate myself from her, or 
 to confine her to Coppet ; and yet if I was arrested 
 in my flight, there was an end of the fortune of my 
 
TSN tears' exil«. 147 
 
 children, who would not have wished to separate 
 themselves from my destiny. 
 
 It was in the midst of all these perplexities, that 
 a friend of twenty years standing, M, Mathieu de 
 Montmorency, proposed to come and see me, as he 
 had already done several times since my exile. It 
 is true that I was written to from Paris, that the Em- 
 peror had expressed his displeasure against every 
 one who should go to Coppet, and especially 
 against M. de Montmorency, jf he again went there. 
 But 1 confess I made light of these expressions of 
 the Emperor, which he throws out sojuetimes to 
 terrify people, and struggled very feebly with 
 M. de Montmorency, who generously sought to 
 tranquilize me by his letters. 1 was wrong, no 
 doubt ; but who could have persuaded themselves 
 that an old friend of a banished woman would have 
 it charged to him as a crime, his going to spend a 
 few days with her. The life of M. de Montmorency, 
 entirely consecrated to works of piety, or to family 
 affections, estranged him so completely from all 
 politics, that unless it would even go the length of 
 banishing the saints, it seemed to me impossible 
 that the government would attack such a man. I 
 asked myself likewise, ciii bono ; a question I have 
 always put to myself whenever any action of Na- 
 poleon was in discussion. I know that he will, 
 without hesitation, do all the evil which can be of 
 use to him for the least thing ; but I do not always 
 conjecture the lengths to which his prodigious ego- 
 tism extends in all directions, toward the infinitely 
 little, as well as the infinitely great. 
 
 Although the prefect had made me be told that 
 he recoMjmunded me not to travel in Switzerland, 
 I paid no attention lo an advice which could not 
 
,» 
 
 14S TEN YEARS' EXILE. 
 
 be made a formal order. I went to meet M. dc 
 Montmorency at Orbe, and from thence I pro- 
 posed to him, as the object of a promenade in 
 Switzerland, to return by way of Fribourg, to see 
 the establishment of female Trappists, at a short 
 distance from that of the men in Val-Sainte. 
 
 We reached the convent in the midst of a se- 
 vere shower, after having been obHged to come 
 nearly a mile on foot. As we were flattering our- 
 selves with being admitted, the Procureur of la 
 Trappe, who has the direction of the female con- 
 vent, told us that nobody could be received there. 
 I tried, however, to ring the bell at the gate of 
 the cloister ; a nun appeared behind the latticed 
 opening through which the portress may speak to 
 strangers. " What do you want ?" said she to 
 me, in a voice without modulation, as we might 
 suppose that of a ghost. " I should wish to sec 
 the interior of your convent." " That is impos- 
 sible.'' " But 1 am very wet, and want to dry 
 myself." She immediately touched a spring 
 which opened the door of an outer apartment, in 
 which I was allowed to rest myself; but no living 
 creature appeared. I had hardly been seated a 
 few minutes, when becoming impatient at being 
 unable to penetrate into the interior of the house, 
 I rung again ; the same person again appeared, 
 and I asked her if no females were ever admitted 
 into the convent; she answered that it was only 
 in cases when any one had the intention of be- 
 connng a nun. *' But," said I to her, '' how can 
 I know if 1 v^ish to remain in your house, if I am 
 not permitted to examine it." " Oh, that is quite 
 useless," replied she, *' I a«j very sure that you 
 have no vocation for our state," and with these 
 
TEN tears' exile. 149 
 
 words immediately shut her wicket. I know not 
 hy what signs this nun had satisfied herself of my 
 worldly dispositions; it is possible that a quick 
 manner of speaking, so different from theirs, is 
 sufficient to make them distinguish travellers, who 
 are merely curious. The hour of vespers ap- 
 proaching, I could go into the church to hear the 
 nuns sing ; they were behind a black close gra- 
 ting, through which nothing could be seen. You 
 only heard the noise of their wooden shoes, and 
 of the wooden benches as they raised them to sit 
 down. Their singing had nothing of sensibility 
 in it, and 1 thought I could remark both by their 
 manner of praying, and in the conversation which 
 I had afterwards with the father Trappist, who 
 directed them that it was not religious enthusi- 
 asm such as we conceive it, but severe and grave 
 habits which could support such a kind of life. 
 The lenderness of piety would even exhaust the 
 strength ; a sort of ruggedness of soul is neces- 
 sary to so rude an existence. 
 
 The new Father Abbe of the Trappists, settled 
 in the valleys of the Canton of Fribourg, has added 
 to the austerities of the order. One can have no 
 idea of the minute degrees of suffering imposed up- 
 on the monks,; they go so far as even to forbid them, 
 when they have been standing for some hours in 
 succession, from leaning against the wall, or wiping 
 the perspiration from their forehead ; in short, every 
 moment of their life is filled with suffering, as the 
 people of the world fill theirs with enjoyment. 
 They rarely live to be old, and those to whom this 
 lot falls, regard it as a punishment from heaven. 
 Such an establishment would be barbarous if any 
 one was compelled to enter it, or if there was the 
 
 14 
 
150 TEN years' EXILE. 
 
 least concealment of what they suffer there. But 
 on the contrary, they distribute to whoever wishes 
 to read it, a printed statement, in which the rigors 
 of the order are rather exaggerated than softened; 
 and yet there are novices who are willing to take 
 the vows, and those who are received never run 
 away, although they might do it without the least 
 difficulty. The whole rests, as it appears to me, 
 upon the powerful idea of death; the institutions 
 and amusements of society are destined in the world 
 to turn our thoughts entirely upon life; but when the 
 contemplation of death gets a certain hold of the 
 human heart, joined to a firm belief in the immor- 
 tality of the soul, there are no bounds to the dis- 
 gust which it may take to every thing which forms 
 a subject of interest in the world ; and a state of 
 suffering appearing the road to a future life, such 
 minds follow it with avidity, like the traveller, who 
 willingly fatigues himself, in order to get sooner 
 over the road which leads him to the object of his 
 wishes. But what equally astonished and grieved 
 me, was to see children brought up with this se- 
 verity : their poor locks shaved off, their young 
 countenances already furrowed, that deathly dress 
 with which they were covered before they knew 
 any thing of life, before they had voluntarily re- 
 nounced it, all this made my soul revolt against the 
 parents who had placed them there. When such 
 a state is not the adoption of a free and determined 
 choice on the part of the person who professes it, 
 it inspires as mach horror as it at first created re- 
 spect. The monk with whom I conversed, spoke 
 of nothing but death ; all his ideas came from that 
 subject, or connected themselves with it ; death is 
 the sovereign monarch of this residence. As we 
 
TEN years' exile. 151 
 
 talked of the temptations of the world, 1 expressed 
 to the father Trappist my admiration of his con- 
 duct in thus sacrificing all, to withdraw himself 
 from their influence. " We are cowards" said he 
 to me, " who have retired into a fortress, because 
 we feel we want the courage to meet our enemy in 
 the open field." This reply was equally modest 
 and ingenious.* 
 
 * I accompanied my mother in the excursion here related. 
 Struck with the wild beauty of the place, and interested by the 
 spiritual conversation of the Trappist who had attended us, I be- 
 sought him to grant me hospitality until the following day, as I 
 proposed going over the mountain on foot, in order to see the 
 great convent of the Val-Sainte, and rejoining my mother and 
 M. de Montmorency at Fribourg. This monk, with whom I con- 
 tinued to converse, had not much difficulty in discovering that I 
 hated the imperial government, and I could guess that he fully 
 participated in that sentiment. Afterwards, after thanking him 
 for his kindness, I entirely lost sight of him, nor did limagine 
 that he had preserved the least recollection of me. 
 
 Five years afterwards, in the first months of the Restoration, I 
 was not a little surprised at receiving a letter from this same 
 Trappist. He had no doubt, he said, that now the legitimate 
 monarch was restored to his throne, I must have a number of 
 friends at court, and he requested me to employ their influence 
 in procuring to his order the restoration of the property which it 
 possessed in France, This letter was signed " Father A . . . « 
 priest and procureur of LaTrappe," and he added, as a postscript^ 
 " If a twenty-three years' emigration and four campaigns in a 
 regiment of horse-chasseurs in the army of Conde give me any 
 claims to the royal favour, 1 beg you will make use of them." 
 
 I could not help laughing, both at the idea which this good 
 monk had dF my influence at court, and at the use of it which he 
 required from a protestant. I sent his letter to M. de Montmo- 
 rency, whose influence was much greater than mine, and 1 have 
 reason to believe that the petition was granted. 
 
 In other respects, these Trappists were not, in the deep valleys 
 of the Canton of Fribourg, such strangers to politics as their resi- 
 dence and their habit would lead one to believe. 1 have since 
 learned that they served as a medium for the correspondence of 
 the French clergy with the pope, when a prisoner at Savonne. 
 Certainly, although this does not at all excuse the rigour with 
 which they were treated by Bonaparte, it gives a sufficient ex ■ 
 pianation of it. (JVoleof the Editor,) 
 
152 TEN years' exile. 
 
 A few days after we had visited these places, the 
 French government ordered the seizure of the father 
 Abbe, M. de L'Esirange ; the confiscation of the 
 property of the order, and the dismissal of the 
 fathers from Switzerland. I know not of what 
 M. de L'Estrange was accused ; but it is scarcely 
 probable that such a man should have meddled 
 with the affairs of the world, much less the monks, 
 who never quitted their solitude. The Swiss go- 
 vernment caused search to be made every where for 
 M. de L'Ertrange, and I hope for its honour, that 
 it took care not to iind him. However, the unfor- 
 tunate magistrates of countries which are called al- 
 lies of Frarce, ar? very often employed to arrest 
 persons desigujited to them, ignorant whether they 
 are delivei'ing it>nocent or guilty victims to the 
 great Leviathan, which thinks proper to swallow 
 them up. The propertyof the Trappists was seized, 
 that is to say, their tomb, for they hardly possessed 
 any thing else, and the order was dispersed, it 
 is said, that a Trappist at Genoa had mounted the 
 pulpit to retract the oath of allegiance which he 
 had taken to the emperor, declaring that since the 
 captivity of the pope, be considered every priest as 
 released from this oath. At his coming out from 
 performing this act of repentance, he was, report 
 also saySj tried by a military commission, and shot. 
 One would think that he was sufficiently punished, 
 without rendering the whole order responsible for 
 his conduct. 
 
 We regained Vevay by the mountains, and I 
 proposed to M. de Montmorency to proceed as far 
 as the entrance of the Valais, which 1 had never 
 seen. We stepped at Bex, the last Swiss village, 
 for the Valais was already united to France. A 
 
TEN years' exile. 153 
 
 Portuguese brigade had left Geneva to go and oc- 
 cupy the Valais : singular state of Europe, to have 
 a Portuguese garrison at Geneva going to take 
 possession of a part of Switzerland in the name of 
 France ! I had a curiosity to see the Cretins of the 
 Valais, of whom I had so often heard. This mise- 
 rable degradation of man affords ample subject for 
 reflection 5 but it is excessively painful to see the 
 human countenance thus become an object of horror 
 and repugnance, I remarked, however, in several 
 of these poor creatures, a degree of vivacity border- 
 ing on astonishment, produced on them by external 
 objects. As they never recognize what they have 
 already seen, they feel each time fresh surprize and 
 the spectacle of the world, with all its detaHs, is 
 thus for ever new to them ; it is, perhaps, the com- 
 pensation for their sad state, for certainly there is 
 one. It is some years since a Cretin, having com- 
 mitted assassination, was condemned ta death : as 
 he was led to the scaffold, he took it into his head, 
 seeing himself surrounded with a crowd of people, 
 that he was accompanied in this manner to do him 
 honour, and he laughed, held himself erect, and 
 put his dress in order, with the idea of rendering 
 himself more worthy of the fete. Was it right to 
 punish such a being for the crime which his arm 
 had committed.'^ 
 
 There is at three leagues from Bex, ^ famous 
 cascade, where the water falls from a very lofty 
 mountain. I proposed to my friends to go and see 
 it, and we returned before dinner. It is true that 
 this cascade was upon the territory of the Valais, 
 consequently then upon the French territory, and I 
 forgot that 1 was not allowed more of that than the 
 small space of ground which separates Coppet from 
 
 14* 
 
154 TEN years' exile. 
 
 Geneva. When I returned home, the prefect not 
 only blamed me for having presumed to travel in 
 Switzerland, but made it the greatest proof of his 
 indulgence to keep silence on the crime 1 had com- 
 mitted, in setting my foot on the territory of the 
 French empire. I might have said, in the words 
 of Lafontaine's fable : 
 
 Je tondis de ce pre la larguer de ma langue : 
 
 (I grazed of this meadow the breadth of my tongue,) 
 but I confessed, with great simplicity, the fault I 
 had committed in going to see this Swiss cascade, 
 without dreaming that it was in France. 
 
CHAPTER VJ. 
 
 Exile of M. de Montmorency and Madame Reca^ 
 mier, — Nezo persecutions* 
 
 This continual chicanery upon my most trifling 
 actions, rendered my life odious to me, and I could 
 not divert myself by occupation ; for the recollec- 
 tion of the fate of my last work, and the certainty 
 of never being able to publish any thing in future, 
 operated as a complete damper to riiy mind, which 
 requires emulation to be capable of Jabour. Not- 
 withstaodino' I could not vet resolve to quit for 
 ever the borders of France, the abode of my father, 
 and the friends who remained faiiliful to me. Eve- 
 ry day i thoyglit of depaitiog, and every day I 
 found in my own mind some reason for remaining, 
 until the last blow was aimed at my soul 5 God 
 knows what I have suffered from it. 
 
 M. de Montmorency came to pass several days 
 with me at Coppet and the wickedness of detail in 
 tfie master of so great an empire is so well calcu- 
 lated, that by the return of the courier who an- 
 nounced his arrival at Coppet, my friend received 
 his letter of exile. Tiie emperor would not have 
 been satisfied if this order had not been signified to 
 him at my house, and if there had not been in the 
 letter itself oi' the minister of police, a word to sig- 
 nify that I was tiie cause of this exile. ?d. de Mont- 
 morency endeavoured, in every possible way, to 
 soften the news to me, but, l tell it to Bonaparte, 
 ttiat he m&3' applaud himself on the success of his^ 
 
156 TEN years' exile. 
 
 scheme, I shrieked with agony on learning the ca- 
 lamity which I had drawn on the head of my ge- 
 nerous friend ; and never was my heart, tried as it 
 had been for so many years, nearer to despair. I 
 knew not how to lull the rending thoughts which 
 succeeded each other in my bosom, and had re- 
 course to opium to suspend for some hours the an- 
 guish which I felt. M. de Montmorency, calm 
 and religious, invited me to follow his example ; 
 the consciousness of the devotedness to me which 
 he had condescended to show, supported him ; but 
 for me, I reproached myself for the bitter conse- 
 quences of this devotedness, which now separated 
 him from his family and friends. I prayed to the 
 Almighty without ceasing ; but grief would not 
 quit its hold of me for a moment, and life became a 
 burden to me. 
 
 While I was in this state I received a letter from 
 Madame Recamier, that beautiful person who has 
 received the admiration of the whole of Europe, 
 and who has never abandoned an unfortunate friend. 
 She informed me, that on her road to the waters 
 of Aix in Savoy, to which she was proceeding, she 
 intended stopping at my house, and would be there 
 in two days. I trembled lest the lot of M. de Mont- 
 morency should also become hers. However im- 
 probable it was, I was ordained to fear every thing 
 irom a hatred so barbarous and minute, and I there- 
 fore sent a courier to meet Madame Recamier, to 
 beseech her not to come to Coppet. To know that 
 she who had never failed to console me with the 
 most amiable attention was only a few leagues dis- 
 tant from me ; to know that she was there^ so near 
 to my habitation, and that I was not allowed to see 
 her again, perhaps for the last time ! all this I was 
 
TEN years' exile. ^ 157 
 
 obliged to bear. I conjured her not to stop at Cop- 
 pet ; she would not yield to my entreaties ; she 
 could not pass under my windows without remain* 
 ing some hours with me, and it was with convul- 
 sions of tears that 1 saw her enter this chateau, in 
 which her arrival had always been a fete. She 
 left me the next day, and repaired instantly to one 
 of her relations at fifty leagues distance from Swit- 
 zerland. It was in vain ; the fatal blow of exile 
 smote her also ; she had had the intention of seeing 
 me, and that was enough ; for the generous com- 
 passion which had inspired her, she must be pun- 
 ished. The reverses of fortune which she bad met 
 with made the destruction of her natural establish- 
 ment extremely painful to her. Separated from all 
 her friends, she has passed whole months in a little 
 provincial town, a prey to the extremes of every 
 feeling of insipid and melancholy solitude. Such 
 was the lot to which I was the cause of condemn- 
 ing the most brilliant female of her time ; and thus 
 regardless did the chief of the French, that people 
 so renowned for their gallantry, show himself to- 
 ward the most beautiful woman in Paris. In one 
 day he smote virtue and distinguished birth in M. 
 de Montmorericj^ ; beauty in Madame Recamier, 
 and, if I dare say it, the reputation of high talents 
 in myself. Perhaps he also flattered himself with 
 attacking the memory of my father in his daugh- 
 ter, in order that it might be truly said that in this 
 world, under his reign, the dead and the living, 
 piety, beauty, wit, and celebrity, ail were as nothing. 
 Pei^pns made themselves culpable by being found 
 wanting in the delicate shades of flattery toward 
 him, in refusing to abandon any one who had been 
 vijited by his disgrace. He recognises but two 
 
158 ^: TEN years' exile. 
 
 classes of human creatures, those who serve him, 
 and those, who without injuring, wish to have an 
 existence independent of him. He is unwilling 
 that in the whole universe, from the details of house- 
 keeping to the direction of empires, a single will 
 should act without reference to his. 
 
 " Madam de Stael," said the prefect of Gene- 
 va, " has contrived to make herself a very plea- 
 sant life at Coppet ; her friends and foreigners 
 come to see her ; the emperor will not allow 
 that." And why did he torment me in this man- 
 ner? that I might print an eulogium upon him 5 
 and of what consequence was this eulogium to 
 him, among the millions of phrases which fear 
 and hope were constantly offering at his shrine ? 
 Bonaparte once said, " If I had the choice, either 
 of doing a noble action myself, or of inducing 
 my adversary to do a mean one, I would not he- 
 sitate to prefer the debasement of my enemy." 
 In this sentence you have the explanation of the 
 particular pains which he took to torment my ex- 
 istence. He knew that I was attached to my 
 friends, to France, to my works, to my tastes, to 
 society; in taking from me every thing which 
 composed my happiness, his wish was to trouble 
 me sufficiently to make me write some piece of 
 insipid flattery, in the hope that it would obtain 
 me my recall. In refusing to lend myself to his 
 wishes, I ought to say it, I have not had the merit 
 of making a sacrifice; the emperor wished me to 
 commit a meanness, but a meanness entirely use- 
 less ; for at a time when success was in a manner 
 deified, the ridicule would not have been com- 
 plete, if I had succeeded in returning to Paris, by 
 whatever means I had effected it. To satisfy our 
 
TEN years' exile. 15% 
 
 master, whose skill in degrading whatever re- 
 mains of lofty mind, is unquestionable, it was ne- 
 cessary that I should dishonour myself in order to 
 obtain my return to France, that he should turn 
 into mockery my zeal in praise of him, who had 
 never ceased to persecute me, and that this zeal 
 should not be of the least service to me. I have 
 denied him this truly refined satisfaction ; it is all 
 the merit I have had in the long contest which 
 has subsisted between his omnipotence and my 
 weakness, 
 
 M. de Montmorency's family, in despair at his 
 exile, were anxious, as was natural, that he 
 should separate himself from the sad cause of 
 this calamity, and I saw that friend depart with- 
 out knowing if he would ever again honour with 
 his presence my residence on this earth. On 
 the 31st of August, 1811, I broke the first and 
 last of the ties which bound me to my native 
 country ; I broke them, at least so far as regards 
 human connections, which can no longer exist 
 between us; but I never lift my eyes toward 
 heaven without thinking of my excellent friend, 
 and I venture to believe, also, in his prayers he 
 answers me. Beyond this, fate has denied me 
 all other correspondence with him. 
 
 When the exile of my two friends became 
 known, I was assailed by a whole host of chagrins 
 of every kind ; but a great misfortune renders us 
 in a manner insensible to fresh troubles. It was 
 reported that the minister of police had declared 
 that he would have a soldier's guard mounted at 
 the bottom of the avenue of Coppet, to arrest 
 whoever came to see me. The prefect of Gene- 
 va, who was instructed, by order of the emperor 
 
160 TENYEARS' EXILE. 
 
 he said, to annul me, (that was his expression,) 
 never missed an opportunity of insinuating, or 
 even declaring publicly, that no one who had any 
 thing either to hope or fear from the government 
 ought to venture near me» 
 
 M. de Saint-Fiiest, formerly minister of Louis 
 XVI. and the colleague of my father, honoured 
 me with his affection ; his daughters who dreaded, 
 and with reason, that he might be sent from Ge- 
 neva, united their entreaties with mine that he 
 would abstain frono visiting me. Notwithstand- 
 ing, in the middle of winter, at the age of seventy- 
 eight, he was banished not only from Geneva, 
 but from Switzerland; for it is fully admitted, as 
 has been seen in my own case, that the Empe- 
 ror can banish from Switzerland as well as from 
 France ; and when any objections are made to 
 the French agents, on the score of being in a fo- 
 reign country, whose independence is recognised, 
 they shrug up their shoulders, as if you were wea- 
 rying them with metaphysical quibbles. And 
 really it is a perfect quibble to wish to distinguish 
 in Europe any thing but prefect-kings, and pre- 
 fects receiving their orders directly from the 
 emperor of France. If there is any difference 
 between the soi-disani allied countries and the 
 French provinces, it is that the first are rather 
 worse treated. There remains in France a cer- 
 tain recollection of having been called the great 
 nation, which sometimes obliges the emperor to 
 be measured in his proceedings ; it was so at least, 
 but every day even that becomes less neces- 
 sary. The motive assigned for the batiishment 
 of M. de Saint-Priest was, that he had not in- 
 duced his sons to abandon the service of Russia. 
 
TEN years' exile. 16i 
 
 His sons had, during the emigration, met with 
 the most generous reception in Russia ; they 
 had there been promoted, their intrepid courage 
 had there been properly rewarded ; they were co- 
 vered with wounds, they were distinguished among 
 the first for their miUtary talents ; the eldest was 
 now more than thirty years of age. How was it pos- 
 sible for a father to ask that the existence of his 
 sons, thus established, should be sacrificed to the 
 honour of coming to place themselves en surveil- 
 lance on the French territory ? for that was the en- 
 viable lot which was reserved for them. It was a 
 source of melancholy satisfaction to me, that 
 I had not seen M. de Saint-Priest for four 
 months previous to his banishment ; had it not 
 been for that, no one would have doubted that it 
 was I who had infected him with the contagion of 
 my disgrace. 
 
 Not only Frenchmen, but foreigners, were ap- 
 prised that they must not go to my house. The 
 prefect kept upon the watch to prevent even old 
 friends from seeing me. One day, among others, 
 he deprived me, by his official vigilance, of the 
 society of a German gentleman, whose conversa- 
 tion was extremely agreeable to me, and I could 
 not help telling him, on this occasion, that he 
 might have spared himself this extraordinary 
 degree of persecution. " How !'' repljed be, 
 " it was to do you a service that I acted in this 
 maTnner ; 1 made your friend sensible that he 
 would compromise you by going to see you." I 
 could not refrain from a smile at this ingenious 
 argument. " Yes," continued he with the most 
 perfect gravity, **the emperor, seeing you pre- 
 
 15 
 
162 TEN years' EXfLE. 
 
 ferred to himself, would be displeased with you 
 for it.'' " So that," I replied, " the emperor ex- 
 pects that my private friends, and shortly, per- 
 haps, my own children, should forsake me to 
 please him ; that seems to me rather too much. 
 Besides, I do not well see how a persou in my 
 situation can be compromised; and what you 
 say reminds me of a revolutionist who was ap- 
 plied to, in the times of terror, to use his en- 
 deavours to save one of his friends from the 
 scaffold. 1 am afraid, said he, that my speaking 
 in his favour would only injure him." The pre- 
 fect smiled at my quotation, but continued that 
 train of reasoaing, which, backed as it is with 
 four hundred thousand bayonets, always appears 
 the soundest. A man at Geneva said to me, "Do 
 not you think the prefect declares his opinion 
 with a great deal of frankness?'' "Yes,'' I 
 replied, " he says with sincerity that he is devoted 
 to the man of power ; he says with courage that 
 he is of the strongest side ; I am not exactly sen- 
 sible of the merit of such an avowal." 
 
 Several independent ladies at Geneva continu- 
 ed to show me marks of the greatest kindness, 
 of which I shall always retain a deep recollection. 
 But even to the clerks in the custom houses, re- 
 garded themselves as in a state of diplomacy with 
 me; and from prefects to sub-prefects, and from 
 the cousins of one and the other, a profound ter- 
 ror would have seized them all, if I had not spar'ed 
 them, as much as was in my power, the anxiety 
 of paymg or not paying a visit. Every courier 
 brought reports of other friends of mine being 
 exiled from Paris, for having kept up connections 
 with me; it became a matter of strict duty for 
 
TEN years' exile. 163 
 
 me to avoid seeing a single Frenchnfian of the 
 least note ; and very often I was even apprehen- 
 sive of injuring persons in the country where I 
 was living, whose courageous friendship never 
 belied itself toward me. 1 felt two opposite sen- 
 sations, and both, I believe, equally natural ; me- 
 lancholy at being forsaken, and cruel anxiety for 
 those who showed attachment to me. It is diffi- 
 cult to conceive a situation in life more painful at 
 every moment; for the space of nearly two years 
 that I endured it, I may say truly that I never 
 once saw the day return without a feeling of de- 
 solation at having to support the existence which 
 that day renewed. 
 
 But why should not you leave it then? will be 
 said, and was said incessantly to me from all 
 quarters. A man whoaj I ought , not to name,* 
 but who, I trust, knows how much I esteem the 
 elevation of his character and conduct, said to 
 me : '' If you remain, he will treat you as Eliza- 
 beth did Mary Stuart: — nineteen years misery', 
 and the catastrophe at last." Another person, 
 witty, but unguarded in his expressions, wrote to 
 me, that it was dishonourable to remain after so 
 much ill-treatment. I had no need of these re- 
 commendations to wish, passionately wish, to de- 
 part ; from the moment that I could no longer see 
 my friends, that 1 was only a burden to my chil- 
 dren's existence, was it not time to determine ? 
 [Vhe prefect, however, repeated in every possible 
 way, that if I went off, I should be seized ; that 
 at Vienna, as well as at Berlin, I should be re- 
 claimed ; and that I could not make the least pre- 
 
 * Count Elzearn de Sabran, 
 
164 TIN years' exile. 
 
 paration for departure without his being informed 
 of it 5 for he knew, he said, every thing that pas- 
 sed in my house. In that respect he was a boast- 
 er, and, as the event has proved, exhibited mere 
 fatuity in matters of espionnage. But who would 
 not have been terrified at the tone of assurance 
 with which he told all my friends that I could not 
 tsii>\e a step without being seized by the gen- 
 ^iarraes! 
 
CHAPTER T. 
 
 Departure from Coppet, 
 
 I PASSED eight months in a state I cannot de- 
 scribe, every day making a trial of my courage, 
 and every day shrinking at the idea of a prison. 
 AW the world certainly fears it ; but my imagina- 
 tion has such a dread of solitude, my friends are so 
 necessary to me, to support and animate me, and 
 to turn my attention to a new perspective when I 
 sink under the intensity of painful sensations, that 
 never has death presented itself to me under such 
 terrible features as a prison or a dungeon, where I 
 might remain for years without ever hearing a 
 friendly voice. I have been told that one of the 
 Spaniards who defended Saragossa with the most 
 astonishing intrepidity, utters the most dreadful 
 shrieks in the tower at Vincennes, where he is 
 kept confined; so much does this frightful solitude 
 affect even the most energetic minds ! Besides, 1 
 could not disguise from myself that I was not 
 courageous; I have a bold imagination, but a timid 
 character, and ail kinds of perils appear to me like 
 phantoms. The species of talent which I possess, 
 brings images to me with such living freshness, 
 that if the beauties of nature are improved by it, 
 dangers are made more dreadful. Sometimes I 
 was afraid of a prison, sometimes of robbers, if I 
 was obliged to go through Turkey, in the event of 
 Russia being shut against me by political combi- 
 nations : sometimes also the immense sea which 
 
 15* 
 
166 TEN years' exile. 
 
 I must cross between Constantinople and London, 
 filled me with terror for my daughter and myself. 
 Nevertheless, I had always the wish to depart ; an 
 inward feeling of boldness excited me to it ; but I 
 might say, like a well-known Frenchman, *' I 
 tremble at the dangers to which my courage is 
 about to expose me." In truth, what adds to the 
 horrible barbarity of persecuting females, is, that 
 their nature is both irritable and weak ; they suffer 
 more acutely from trouble, and are less capable of 
 the strength required to escape from it. 
 
 I was also affected by another kind of terror : I 
 was afraid that the moment the emperor knew of 
 my departure, he would insert in the newspapers 
 one of those articles which he knows so well how 
 to dictate, when he wishes to commit moral assas- 
 sination. A senator told me one day, that Napo- 
 leon was the best journalist he ever knew ; and 
 certainly if this expression meant to designate the 
 art of defaming individuals and nations, he pos- 
 sesses it in the highest degree. . Nations are not 
 affected by it; but he has acquired in the revolu- 
 tionary times he has passed through, a certain tact 
 in calumnies suitable to vulgar comprehension, 
 which makes him find the expressions best adapted 
 for circulation among those whose wit is confined 
 10 repeating the phrases published by the govern- 
 ment for their use. If the Moniteur accused any 
 one of robbing on the highway, no French, Ger- 
 man, or Italian journal could admit his justifica- 
 tion. It is almost impossible to represent to one's 
 self what a man is, at the head of a million of sol- 
 diers, and possessed of ten millions of revenue, hav- 
 ing all the prisons of Europe at his disposal, with 
 the kings for his gaolers, and using the press as his 
 
TTEN YEARS* EXILE. 16-7 
 
 mouth-piece, at a time when people have hardly 
 the irrtimacy of friendship to make a reply ; finally, 
 with the ability of turning misfortune into ridicule : 
 execrable power, whose ironical enjoyment is the 
 last insult which the infernal genii can make the 
 human race endure ! 
 
 Whatever independence of character one had, I 
 believe that no one could refrain from shuddering 
 at the idea of having such power directed against 
 one's self; at leastj I confess having felt this move- 
 ment very strongly ; and in spite of the melancholy 
 of my situation, I frequently said to myself^ that a 
 roof for shelter, a table for sustenance, and a gar- 
 den for exercise, formed a lot with which one must 
 learn to be contented ; but even this lot, such as it 
 was, no one could be certain of retaining in peace; 
 a word might escape, a word might be repealed, 
 and this man, whose power was continually on the 
 increase, to what a point might he not at last be 
 irritated ? When the sun shone brightly, my cou- 
 rage returned ; but when the sky was covered with 
 clouds, travelling terrified me, and I discovered in 
 myself a taste for indolent pursuits, foreign to my 
 nature, but which fear had given birth to ; physical 
 happiness appeared to me then greater than 1 had 
 previously regarded it, and every sort of exertion 
 alarmed me. My health also, cruelly affected by 
 so many troubles, weakened the energy of my cha- 
 racter, so that during this period I put the patience 
 of my friends to a most severe test, by an eternal 
 discussion of the plans in deliberation, and over- 
 whelming them with my uncertainties. 
 
 I tried a second time to obtain a passport for 
 America; they made me wait till the middle of 
 winter before they gave me the answer I required. 
 
168 TEN years' exile. 
 
 which terminated in a refusal. I then offered t® 
 enter into an engagement never to print any thing 
 upon any subject, not even a bouquet to Iris^ pro- 
 vided I was allowed to live at Rome ; 1 had the 
 vanity to remind them that it was the author of 
 Corinna who asked permission to go and live in 
 Italy. Doubtless the minister of police had never 
 found a similar motive inscribed upon his regis- 
 ters, and the air of the south, which was so neces- 
 sary to my health, was mercilessly refused me. 
 
 They never ceased declaring to me thaf my 
 whole life should be spent in the circle of two 
 leagues, which separates Coppet from Geneva. 
 If I remained, I must separate myself from my 
 'sons, who were of an age to seek a profession ; 
 and if my daughter shared my fortune, I imposed 
 upon her the most melancholy perspective. The 
 city of Geneva, which has preserved such noble 
 traces of liberty, was, notwithstanding, gradually 
 allowing herself to be gained over by the interests 
 which connected her with the distributors of pla* 
 ces in France. Every day the number of persons 
 with whom I could be in intelligence diminished; 
 and all my feelings became a weight upon my.soul, 
 in place of being a source of life. There was an 
 end of my talents, of my happiness, of my exist- 
 ence, for it is frightful to be of no service to one's 
 children, and to be the cause of injuring one's 
 friends. Finally, the news I received- arjnounced 
 to oie from all quarters the formidable prepara- 
 tions of the emperor : it was evident that be wish- 
 ed first to make himself master of the ports of the 
 Bahic by ihe destruction of Rus«ia, and that after- 
 waids he reckoned on making use of ihe wrecks 
 ®f that power to lead them against Constantino- 
 
TBN years' exile. I6S 
 
 j»le : and his subsequent intention was to make 
 that the point of starting for the conquest of Asia 
 and Africa, A short time before he left Paris, he 
 had said, ♦' I am tired of this old Europe.'' And 
 in truth she is no longer sufficient for the activity 
 of her master. The last outlets of the Continent 
 might be closed from one moment to another, and 
 I was about to find myself in Europe as in a garri- 
 soned town, where all the gates are guarded by 
 military. 
 
 I determined therefore on going off, while there 
 yet remained one means of getting to England, and 
 that means the tour of the whole of Europe. I fix- 
 ed the 15th of May for my departure, the prepa- 
 rations for which had been arranged long before 
 hand in the most profound secrecy. On the eve 
 of that day, my strength abandoned me entirely, 
 and for a moment I almost persuaded myself that 
 such a degree of terror as I felt could only pro- 
 ceed from the consciousness of meditating a bad 
 action. Sometimes I consulted all sort of presa- 
 ges in the most foolish manner ; at others, which 
 was much wiser, I interrogated my friends and 
 myself on the morality of my resolution. It ap- 
 pears to me that the part of resignation in all 
 things may be the most religious ; and I am not 
 surprised that pious men should have gone so far 
 as to feel a sort of scruple about resolutions pro- 
 ceeding from free will. Necessity appears to bear 
 a sort of divine character, while man's resolution 
 may be connected with his pride. It is certain, 
 however, that none of our faculties have been 
 given us in vain, and that of deciding for one's 
 self nas also its use. On another side, ali persons 
 of mediocre intellect are continually astonished 
 
170 TEN years' EXILK. 
 
 that talent has different desires from theirs. When 
 it is successful, all the world might do the same ; 
 but when it is productive of trouble, when it ex- 
 cites to stepping out of the common track, these 
 same people regard it no longer but as a disease, 
 and almost as a crime. I heard continually buz- 
 zing about me the common places with which the 
 world suffers itself to be led : " Has not she plenty 
 of money? Can she not live well and sleep well 
 in a good house ?" Some persons of a higher cast 
 felt that 1 had not even the certainty of my sad 
 situation, and that it might get worse, without 
 ever getting better. But the atmosphere which 
 surrounded me counselled repose, because, for 
 the last six months I had not been assailed by any 
 new persecution, and because men always believe 
 that what is, is what will be. It was in the midst 
 of all these dispiriting circumstances that I was 
 called upon to take one of the strongest resolu- 
 tions which can occur in the private life of a fe- 
 male. My servants, with the exception of two 
 confidential persons, were entirely ignorant of my 
 secret; the g.reatest part of those who visited me 
 had not the least idea of it, and by a single action, 
 I was going to make an entire change in my own 
 life and that of cny family. Torn to pieces by un- 
 certainty, I wandered over the park of Coppet ; I 
 seated myself in all the places where my father 
 had been accustomed to repose himself and con- 
 template nature ; I regarded once more these 
 same beaunes of water and verdure which we had 
 so olten admired together; I bid them adieu, and 
 reco.nmended myself to their sweet influence. 
 The monument which encloses the ashes of my 
 father and my mother, and in which, if the good 
 
TEN YEARS* EXILE. 171 
 
 God permits, mine also will be deposited, was one 
 of the principal causes of the regret I felt at ba- 
 nishing myself from the place of my residence ; 
 but 1 found almost always on approaching it, a sort 
 of strength which appeared to me to come frona 
 on high. I passed an hour in prayer before that 
 iron gate which inclosed the mortal remains of the 
 noblest of human beings, and there, my soul was 
 convinced of the necessity of departure. I recalled 
 the famous verses of Claudian,* in which he ex- 
 presses the kind of doubt which arises in the most 
 religious minds when they see the earth abandon- 
 ed to the wicked, and the destiny of mortals, as it 
 were floating at the mercy of chance. I feh that 
 I had no longer the strength necessary to feed the 
 enthusiasm which developed in me whatever good 
 qualities I possessed, and that I must listen to the 
 voice of those of similar sentiments with myself, 
 for the purpose of strengthening my confidence in 
 my own resources, and preserving that self-respect 
 which my father had instilled into me. In this 
 state of anxiety, I invoked several times the me- 
 mory of my father, of that man, the Fenelon of 
 politics, whose genius was in every thing opposed 
 to that of Bonaparte; and genius he certainly had, 
 for it requires at least as much of that to put one's 
 self in harmony with heaven, as to invoke to one's 
 aid all the instruments which are let loose by the 
 
 * Saepe mihi dubiam traxitsententia mentera, 
 Curarent Superi terras, an nullus inesset 
 
 Rector, et incerto fluerent mortalia casu. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Abstulit hunc tandem Rufini poena turaultum, 
 Absolvitque Deos. Jam non ad culmina rerum 
 Injustos crevJsse queror; toUuntur in altura 
 Ut lapsu graviore ruant. 
 
172 TEN YEARS* EXILE, 
 
 absence of laws divine and human. I went once 
 more to look at my father's study, where his easy 
 chair, his table, and his papers, still remained in 
 their old situation ; I embraced each venerated 
 mark, I took his cloak which till then I had or- 
 dered to be left upon his chair, and carried it 
 away with me, that I might wrap myself in it, if 
 the messenger of death approached me. When 
 these adieus were terminated, I avoided as much 
 as I could any other leave-takings, which affected 
 me too much, and wrote to the friends whom I 
 quitted, taking care that my letters should not 
 reach them until several days after my departure. 
 The next day, Saturday the 23d of May, 1812, 
 at two o'clock in the afternoon, I got into my car- 
 riage, saying that I should return to dinner. I 
 took no packet whatever with me ; I had my fan in 
 my hand, and my daughter hers ; only ray son and 
 Mr. Rocca carried in their pockets what was ne- 
 cessary for some days journey. In descending the 
 avenue of Coppet, in thus quitting that chateau 
 which had become to me like an old and valued 
 friend, I was ready to faint : my son took my hand, 
 and said, " My dear mother, think that you are set- 
 ting out for England."* That word revived my 
 spirits : I was still, however, at nearly two thousand 
 leagues distance from that goal, to which the usual 
 road would have so speedily conducted me ; but 
 every step brought me at least something nearer to 
 it. When I had proceeded a few leagues, 1 sent 
 back one of my servants to apprize my establish- 
 
 * England Was then the hope of all who suffered for the cause 
 of liberty ; how ccmes it, that after the victory, her ministers 
 have so cruelly deceived the expectation of Europe ? — (J^'ote by 
 the Editor.) 
 
tEN years' exile. 173 
 
 ment that I should not return until the next day, 
 and I conthiued travelling night and day as far as a 
 farm-house beyond Berne, where I had fixed to 
 meet Mr. Schlegel, who was so good as to offer to 
 accompany me ; there also I had to leave my eldest 
 son, who had been educated, up to the age of four- 
 teen, by the example of my father, whose features 
 be reminds one of. A second time all my Courage 
 abandoned me ; that Switzerland, still so tranquil 
 and always so beautiful, her inhabitants, who know 
 how to be free by their virtues, even though they 
 have lost their political independence : the whole 
 country detained me : it seemed to tell me not to 
 quit it. It was still time to return : 1 had not yet 
 made an irreparable step. Although the prefect 
 had thougm proper to interdict me from travelling 
 in Switzerland, 1 saw clearly that it was only from 
 the fear of my going beyond it. Finally, I had 
 not yet crossed the barrier which left me no possi- 
 bility of returning ; the imagination feels a diffi- 
 culty in supporting this idea. On the other hand, 
 there was also something irreparable in the resolu- 
 tion of remaining ; for after that moment, I felt, 
 and the event has proved the feeling correct, that I 
 could no longer escape. Besides, there is an in- 
 describable sort of shame in recommencing such 
 solemn farewells, and one can scarcely resuscitate 
 for one''s friends more than once. I know not what 
 would have become of me, if this uncertainty, even 
 at the very moment of action, had lasted much 
 longer ; for my head was quite confused with it. 
 My children decided me, and especially my daugh- 
 ter, then scarcely fourteen years old. 1 commitled 
 jxijself, in a manner, to her, as if the voice of God 
 
 16 
 
174 TEN years' exile. 
 
 had made itself be heard by the mouth of a child. "^ 
 My son took his leave, ^and after he was out of my 
 sight, I could say, like Lord Russel : the hitter^ 
 ness of death is past, I got into my carriage with 
 my daughter : uncertainty once terminated, I re- 
 collected all my strength within myself, and I found 
 sufficient of that for action which had altogether 
 failed me for deliberation. 
 
 « It was but a trifle to have succeeded in quitting Coppet, by 
 deceiving the vigilance of the prefect of Geneva ; it was also ne- 
 cessary to obtain passports for the purpose of going through Aus- 
 tria, and that these passports should be under a name which 
 would attract no attention from the different polices which then 
 divided Germany My mother entrusted me with this commis- 
 sion, and the emotion which I experienced from it Vv'ill never 
 cease to be present to my thoughts. It was undoubtedly a deci- 
 sive step ; if the passports v.-ere refused, my moliter sunk again 
 into a much more cruel situation ; her plans were Known ; flight 
 was thenceforward become impracticable, and the rigours of her 
 exile would liave every day been more intolerable, i thought I 
 eould not do better than to address myself directly to the Austri- 
 an minister, with that confidence in the feelings of his equals 
 which is the flrst movement of every honest man. M. de Schiaut 
 made no hesitation in granting me the so much desired passports, 
 and T hope he will allow me to express in this place the gratitude 
 ^vhich I still retain to him for them. At a period when Europe 
 was still bending under the yoke of Napoleon, during which the 
 persecution directed against my mother estranged from her per- 
 sons who probably owed to her courageous friendship the preser- 
 vation of their fortunes, or their lives, I was not surprised, but I 
 was most sensibly affected by the generous proceeding of the Aus- 
 trian minister. 
 
 I left my mother to return to Coppet, to which the interests of 
 her fortune recalled me ; and some days afterwards, ray brother, 
 of whom a cruel death has deprived us almost at the moment of 
 entrance into his career, set oft' to rejom my raotlier at Vienna 
 with her servants and travelling carriage. It was only this second 
 departure which gave the bint \o the police of the prefect of the 
 Leraan : so true it is, that to the other qualities of espionnage xve 
 must stiii add stupidity. Fortunately my mother was aiready 
 <am(Beyond the reach of the ,e;endarmes, andslie could continue 
 ♦ he journey of which the narrative follows. — (.Vo/e inj the Ediior.) 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 Passage through Austria ;— 1812. 
 
 In this manner, after ten years of continuall}? 
 increasing persecutions, first sent away from Paris, 
 then banished into Svviiaerland, afterward confined 
 to my own chateau, and at hist condemned to the 
 dreadful punishment of never seeing my friends, 
 and of being the cause of their banishment : in this 
 manner was I obliged to quit, as a fugitive, two 
 countries, France and Switzerland, by order of a 
 man less French than myself; for I was born on 
 the borders of that Seine where his tyranny alone 
 naturalized him. The air of this fine country is 
 not a native air to him : can he then comprehend 
 the pain of being banished from it, he who consi- 
 ders this fertile country only as the instrument of 
 his victories ? Where is his country ? it is the earth 
 which is subject to him. His fellow citizens ? they 
 are the slaves who obey his orders. He complain- 
 ed one day of not having had under his command, 
 like Tamerlane, nations to whom reasoning was un- 
 ksown. I imagine that by this time he is satisfied with 
 Europeans : their manners, like their armies, now 
 bear a softicient resemblance to those of Tartars. 
 
 1 had nothing to fear in Switzerland, as I could 
 always prove that I had a right to be there ; but to 
 leave it, I had only a foreign passport : 1 must go 
 through one of the confederated states, and if any 
 F'lench agent had required the government of 
 Bavaria to hinder me from passing, who does not 
 know with what regret, but at the same time, with 
 
176 TEN tears' exile. 
 
 what obedience it would have executed the orders 
 thus received f I entered into the Tyrol with a 
 great respect for that country, which had fought 
 from attachment to its ancient masters, but with 
 a great contempt for such of the Austrian ministers 
 as had advised the abandonment of men compro- 
 mised by their attachment to their sovereign. It 
 is said that a subaltern diplomatist, head of the spy 
 department in Austria, thought proper one day, 
 during the war, to maintain at the emperor's table, 
 that the Tyrolese should be abandoned. M. de H. 
 a gentleiTiao of the Tyrol, counsellor of state in 
 the Austrian service, who in his actions and writings 
 has exhibited the courage of a warrior, and the 
 talents of an historian, replied to these unworthy 
 observations with the contempt they deserved : the 
 emperor signified his entire approbation to M. de H. 
 and showed by that at least that his private feelings 
 were strangers to the political conduct which he 
 was made to adopt. Thus it is that the greater 
 part of the European sovereigns, at the moment of 
 Bonaparte aiaking himself master of France, who 
 were ei^tremely upright persons as individuals, were 
 already becpme mere cyphers as kings, as the go- 
 vernment of their states was entirely committed to 
 clrcuMjstances and to their ministers. 
 
 The aspect of the Tyrol reminds one of Swit- 
 zerland : there is not, however, so much vigour and 
 originality in the landscape, nor have the villages 
 the same appearance of plenty; it is, in short, a 
 fine country, wiiich has been wisely governed, but 
 never been free; and it is only as a mountaineer 
 people, that it has shown itself capable of resistance. 
 Very few instances of remarkable men can be men- 
 tioned from the Tyrol : first, the Austrian govern- 
 ment is scarcely fit to develop genius ; and, be« 
 
TEN years' exile. 177 
 
 sides, the T3'rol, by its manners as well as by its 
 geographical position, should have formed a part 
 of the Swiss confederation : its incorporation with 
 the Austrian monarchy not being conformable to 
 its nature^ it has only developed by that union 
 the noble qualities of mountaineers, courage and 
 fidelity. 
 
 The postilion who drove us, showed us a rock 
 on which the emperor Maximilian, grandfather of 
 Charles the Fifth, had nearly perished : the ardour 
 of the chace had stimulated him to such a degree, 
 that he had followed the chamois to heights from 
 which It was impossible to descend. This tradi- 
 tion is still popular in the country, so necessary to 
 nations is the admiration of the past. The memory 
 of the last war was still quite alive in the bosoms 
 of the people ; the peasants showed us the summits 
 of mountains on which they had entrenched them- 
 selves: their imagination delighted in retracing 
 the effect of their fine warlike music, when it echoed 
 from the tops of the hills into the valleys. When 
 we Were shown the palace of the prince-royal of 
 Bavaria, at Inspruck, they told us that Hofer, the 
 courageous peasant and head of the insurrection, 
 had lived there ; they gave us an instance of the 
 intrepidity shown by a female, when the French 
 entered into her chateau : in short, every thing 
 displayed in them the desire of being a nation, 
 much more than personal attachment to the house 
 of Austria. 
 
 In one of the churches at Inspruck is the famous 
 tomb of Maximilian. I went to see it, flattering 
 myself with the certainty of not being recognized 
 by any person, in a place remote from the capitals 
 where the French agents reside. The figure of 
 Maximilian in bronze, is kneeling upon a sarco- 
 
 16^ 
 
i.78 t;es tEAias' exilit, 
 
 phagns. In the body of the church, and thirty sta- 
 tues of the same metal ranged on each side of the 
 sanctuary, represent the relations and ancestors of 
 the emperor. So much past grandeur, so much of 
 the ambition formidable in its day, collected in a 
 family meeting round a tomb, formed a spectacle 
 which led one to profound reflection : there you 
 saw Philip the Good, Charles the Rash, and Mary 
 of Burgundy; and in the midst of these historical 
 personages, Dietrich of Berne, a fabulous hero : 
 the closed visor concealed the countenances of the 
 knights, but when this visar was lifted up a brazen 
 countenance appeared under a helmet of brass, and 
 the features of the knight were of bronze, like his 
 armour. The visor of Dietrich of Berne, is the 
 only one which cannot be lifted up, the artist mean- 
 ing in that manner to signify the mysterious veil 
 which covers the history of this warrior* 
 
 From Inspruck I had to pass by Saltzburg, 
 from thence to reach the Austrian frontiers. It 
 seemed as if all my anxieties would be at an end, 
 when I was once entered on the territory of that 
 monarchy, which 1 had known so secure and so 
 good. "But the moment which 1 most dreaded was 
 the passage from Bavaria to Austria, for it was 
 there that a courier might have preceded me, to 
 forbid my being allowed to pass In spite of this 
 apprehension, 1 had not been very expeditious, for 
 my health, which had been seriously injured by all 
 1 had suffered, did not allow me to travel by night* 
 I have often lieit, during this journey, that the 
 greatest terror cannot overcome a sort of physical 
 depression, wlilch makes one dread fatigue more 
 than death. I flattered myself, however, with ar- 
 riving without any obstacle, and already my fear 
 was dissipated on approaching the objtct which I 
 
TEN TEARS* EXILE* I7§ 
 
 thought secured, when on our entrance into the 
 inn at Saltzburg, a man came up to Mr. Schlegel 
 who accompanied me, and told him in German, 
 that a French courier had been to inquire after a 
 carriage coming from Inspruck with a lady and a 
 young girl, and that he had left word he would re- 
 turn to get intelligence of them. 1 lost not a word 
 of what the innkeeper mentioned, and became pale 
 with terror. Mr. Schlegel also was alarmed on my 
 account : he made some farther inquiries, all of 
 which made it certain that this was a French cou- 
 rier, that he came from Munich, that he had been 
 as far as the Austrian frontier to wait for me, and 
 not finding me there, that he had returned to meet 
 me. Nothing appeared more clear: this was just 
 what I had dreaded before my departure, and 
 during the journey, it was impossible for me now 
 to escape, as this courier, who, it was said, was 
 already at the post-house, would necessarily over- 
 take me. I determined on the spur of the moment 
 to leave my carriage, my daughter, and Mr. Schle- 
 gel at the inn, and to go alone and on foot into the 
 streets of the town, and take the chance of enter- 
 ing the first house whose master or mistress had a 
 physiognomy that pleased me. I would obtain of 
 them an asylum for a few days; during this time, 
 my daughter and Mr. Schlegel might say that they 
 were going to rejoin me in Austria, and 1 should 
 leave Salizburg afterwards in the disguise of a 
 country woman. Hazardous in the extreme as 
 this resource appeared, no other remainfd to me, 
 and I was preparnig for the task, in fear and 
 trembling, when who should enter my apartment 
 but this so much dreaded courier, who was no other 
 than Mr. Rocca. After having accompanied me 
 the first day of my journey, he returned to Geneva 
 
TEN years' exile. 
 
 to terminate some business, and now came to re- 
 join me; he had passed huiKelf off as a French 
 courier, in order to take advaiitage of the terror 
 which the name inspires, particularly to the allies 
 of i iance, and to obtain horses more quickly. He 
 had taken the Munich road, and had hurried on as 
 far as the Austrian frontier, to make himself sure 
 that no one had preceded or announced me. He 
 returned to meet me, to tell me that I had nothing 
 to fear, and to get upon the box of my carriage as 
 we passed that frontier, which appeared to me the 
 most dreadful, but also the last of my dangers. In 
 this manner my cruel apprehension was changed 
 into a most pleasing sentiment of gratefulness and 
 security. 
 
 We walked about the town of Saltzburg, which 
 contains many noble edifices, but Hke the greater 
 part oi the ecclesiastical principahties of Ger- 
 many, now presents a most dreary aspect. The 
 tranquil resources of shat kind of government 
 have terminated with it. The convents also were 
 preservers; one is struck with the number of es- 
 tablishments and edifices which have been erected 
 by bachelor masters in their residence; all these 
 peaceable sovereigns have benefited their people. 
 An archbishop of Saltzburg in the last century, 
 has cut a road which is prolonged for several hun- 
 dred paces under a mountain, like the grotto of 
 Pausilippo at Naples; on the front of the entrance 
 gate there is a bust of the archbishop, under which 
 is an inscription : Te saxa loquuntur, (The stones 
 speak of thee.) There is a d -gree of grandeur 
 in this'inscription. 
 
 I entered at last into that Austria, which, four 
 years before I had seen so happy ; already 1 was 
 
 » 
 
TEN YEARS* EXILE. I 81 
 
 Struck by a sensible change, produced by the de- 
 preciation of paper-money, and the variations of 
 every kind which the uncertainty of the financial 
 measures had introduced into its vaUie. Nothing 
 demoraUzes a people so much as these continual 
 fluctuations which make every man a broker, and 
 hold out to the working classes a means of getting 
 money by sharping, instead of by their labour, 
 I no longer found in the people the same probity 
 which had struck me four years before ; this pa- 
 per-money sets the imagination at work with the 
 hope of rapid and easy gains ; and the hazardous 
 chances overturn the gradual and certain exist- 
 ence which is the basis of the honesty of the mid- 
 dling classes. During my residence in Austria, 
 a man was banged for forging notes at the very 
 moment when the government had reduced the 
 value of the old ones ; he called out, on his way 
 to execution, that it was not he who had robbed, 
 but the state. And, in truth, it is impossible to 
 make the common people comprehend, that it is 
 just to punish them for having speculated in their 
 own affairs, in the same way as the government 
 had done in its own. But this government was 
 the ally of the French government, and doubly its 
 ally, as its monarch was the wery patient father- 
 in-law of a very terrible son-in-law. What re- 
 sources, therefore, could remain to him ? The 
 marriage of his daughter had been the means of 
 liberating him from two millions of contributions 
 at most ; the rest had been required with Ihe kind 
 of justice of which the other is so easily capa- 
 ble, and which consists in treating his friends and 
 his eneuiies alike ; from this proceeded the penury 
 of the treasury. Another misfortune also result- 
 
 .^ 
 
182 TEN years' exile. 
 
 ed from the last war, and.e;^pecia]lj from the last 
 peace : the inutility of the generous feeling which 
 had illustrated the Austrian arras in the battles of 
 Essling and Wagrara, had cooled the national at- 
 tachment to the sovereign, which had fornnerly 
 been very strong. The same thing has happened 
 to all the sovereigns wl*o have treated with the 
 emperor Napoleon ; he has made use of them as 
 receivers to levy imposts on his account ; he has 
 forced them to squeeze their subjects to pay him 
 the taxes he deaianded ; and w^hen it has suited 
 him to dethrone these sovereigns, the people, pre- 
 viously alienated froiii them by the very wrongs 
 they had committed in obedience to the emperor, 
 have not raised an a^m to defend them against 
 him. The emperor Napoleon has the art of 
 making countries said to be at peace, so singu- 
 larly miserable, that ?ny change is agreeable to 
 them, and having beea once compelled to give 
 men and money to France, they scarcely feel the 
 inconvenience of being v/holly united to it. Tbey 
 are wrong, however, for any thing is better than 
 to lose the name of a nation, and as the miseries 
 of Europe are caused by one man, care should be 
 taken to preserve what m&y be restored when he 
 is no more. 
 
 Before I reached Vienna, as I waited fcr my se- 
 cond son, who was to rejoin uiq with my servants 
 and baggage, I shopped a day at Moik, that cele- 
 brated abbey, placed upon an eminence, from which 
 Napoleon had contemplated the various windings 
 of the Danube, and praised the beauty of the coun- 
 try upon which he was going to pounce with his 
 armies. He frequently amuses himself in this man- 
 ner in making poetical pieces on the beauties of 
 
TEN years' exile. 183 
 
 nature, which he is about to ravage, and upon the 
 effects of war, with which he is going to overwhelm 
 mankind. After all, he is in the right to amuse 
 himself in all ways, at the expense of the human 
 race, which tolerates his existence. Man is only 
 arrested in the career of evil by obstacles or re- 
 morse ; no one has yet opposed to Napoleon the 
 one, and he has very easily rid himself of the other. 
 For me, who, solitary, followed his footsteps on the 
 terrace from which the country could be seen to a 
 great distance, I admired its fertility, and felt as- 
 tonished at seeing how soon the bounty of heaven 
 repairs the disasters occasioned by man. It is only 
 moral riches which disappear altogether, or are at 
 least lost for centuries. 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 Residence at Vienna. 
 
 I ARRIVED at Vienna on the 6th of June, very 
 fortunately just two hours before the departure of a 
 courier whom Count Slackelberg, the Russian am- 
 bassador, was despatching to Wilna, where the em- 
 peror Alexander then was. M. de Stackelberg, 
 who behaved to me with that noble delicacy which 
 is so prominent a trait in his character, wrote by 
 this courier for my passport, and assured me that 
 within three weeks I might reckon on having an 
 answer. It then became a question where I was 
 to pass these three weeks ; my Austrian friends, who 
 liad given me the most amiable reception, assured 
 me that 1 might remain at Vienna without the least 
 foar, The court v^as then at Dresden, at the great 
 
184 ^^^ TEN years' exile# 
 
 meeting of all the German princes, who came to 
 present their honiage to the emperor of France. 
 Napoleon had stopped at Dresden under the pre- 
 text of still negociating there to avoid the war with 
 Russia, in other words, to obtain by his policy the 
 same result as he could by his arms. He would 
 not at first admit the king of Prussia to his banquet * 
 at Dresden; he knew too well what repugnance 
 the heart of that unfortunate monarch must have to 
 what he conceives himself obliged to do. It is said 
 that M. de Metternich obtained this humiliating 
 favour for him. M. de Hardenberg, who accompa- 
 nied him, made the remark to the emperor Napo- 
 leon, that Prussia had paid one third more than the 
 promised contributions. The emperor turning his 
 back to him, replied: "An apothecary's bill," — 
 for he has a secret pleasure in making use of vulgar 
 expressions, the more to humble those who are the 
 objects of it. He assumed a sufficient degree of 
 coquetry in his way of living with the emperor and 
 empress of Austria, as it was of importance to him 
 that the Austrian government should take an active 
 part in his war with Russia. In a conversation 
 with M. de Metternich, I have been assured that he 
 said, " You see very well that I can never have the 
 least interest in diminishing the power of Austria, 
 as it now exists ; for, first of all, it suits me that 
 my father-in-law should be a prince of great con- 
 sideration : besides, I have more confidence in the 
 old than in the new dynasties. Has not General 
 Bernadotte already taken the side of making peace 
 with England.^" And in fact, the Prince Royal 
 of Sweden, as will be seen in the sequel, had cou-- 
 rageously declared himself for the interests of the 
 country which he governed. 
 
 The emperor of France having left Dresden to 
 
TEN years' exile. 185 
 
 review bis armies, the empress went to spend some 
 time at Prague with her own family. Napoleon 
 himself, at his departure, regulated the etiquette 
 that was to subsist between the father and the 
 daughter, and one may conjecture that it was not 
 very easy, as he loves etiquette almost as much 
 from suspicion as from vanity ; in other words, as 
 a means of isolating individuals among themselves, 
 under the pretence of marking the distinction of 
 their ranks. 
 
 The first ten day?, which I passed ^t Vienna, 
 passed unclouded, and 1 was delighted at thus 
 finding myself again in a pleasing society, whose 
 manner of thinking corresponded with my own ; 
 for the public opinion was unfavourable to the al- 
 liance with Napoleon, and the government had 
 concluded it without being supported by the na- 
 tional assent. In fact, how could a war, the osten- 
 sible object of which was the re- establishment of 
 Poland, be undertaken by the power which had 
 contributed to the partition, and which still retain- 
 ed in its hands with greater obstinacy than ever the 
 third of that same Poland ? Thirty thousand men 
 were sent by the Austrian government to restore the 
 confederation of Poland at Warsaw, and nearly as 
 many spies were attached to the movements of the 
 Poles in Gallicia, who wished to have deputies at 
 this confederation. The Austrian government was 
 therefore obliged to speak against the Poles, at the 
 very time that it was acting in their cause, and to 
 say to her subjects of Gallicia, " I forbid you to be 
 of the opinion which I support." What metaphy- 
 sics ! they would be found very intricate, if fear 
 did not explain every thing. 
 
 The Poles are the only nation, of those which 
 Bonaparte drags after him, that create any interest; 
 
 17 
 
186 TEN years' exile. 
 
 I believe they know as well as we do, that they are 
 only the pretence for the war, and that the emperor 
 does not care a fig for their independence. He has 
 not even been able to refrain from expressing seve- 
 ral times to the emperor Alexander his disdain for 
 Poland, solely because she wishes to be free : but 
 it suits his purposes to put her in the van against 
 Russia, and the Poles avail themselves of that cir- 
 cumstance to restore their national independence. 
 1 know not if they will succeed, for it is with dif- 
 ficulty that despotism ever gives liberty, and what 
 they will regain in their owe cause, if successful, 
 they will lose in the cause of Europe. They will 
 be Poles, but Poles as much enslaved as the three 
 nations upon whom they will no longer depend. 
 Be that as it may, the Poles are the only Europe- 
 ans who can serve under the banners of Napoleon 
 without blushing. The princes of the Rhenish 
 Confederation think to find their interest in it by 
 the loss of their honour ; but Austria, by a combi- 
 nation truly remarkable, at once sacrifices in it 
 both her honour and her interest. The emperor 
 Napoleon wished the archduke Charles to take the 
 command of these thirty thousand men ; but the 
 archduke fortunately saved himself from this insult; 
 and when I saw him walking alone in a brown 
 coat, in the alleys of the Prater, 1 recovered all 
 my old respect for him. 
 
 The same subaltern diplomatist who had so un- 
 worthily advised the abandonment of the Tyrolese, 
 was entrusted, during the absence of Prince Met- 
 ternich from Vienna, with the police of foreigners, 
 and he acquitted himself as you shall see. The 
 first {ew days he allowed me to remain undisturbed; 
 I bad formerly passed a winter at Vienna, and 
 been \cry well received by the emperor and em- 
 
TEN years' exile. 187 
 
 press, and by the whole court : it was, therefore, 
 rather awkward to tell me that this time I would 
 not be received, because I was in disgrace with the 
 emperor Napoleon; particularly as this disgrace 
 was partly occasioned by the praises which 1 had 
 bestowed in my book on the morality and literary 
 genius of the Germans. But what was much more 
 awkward, was to run the risk of giving the least 
 umbrage to a power, to which it must be confessed, 
 they might very well sacrifice me, after all they had 
 already done for it. I suppose, therefore, that af- 
 ter I had been some days at Vienna, the chief of 
 the police received some more exact information of 
 the nature of my situation with Bonaparte, and in 
 consequence thought it necessary to watch me ; and 
 this was his method of inspection. He placed 
 spies at my gate in the street, who followed me on 
 foot, when my carriage drove slowly, and got into 
 cabriolets in order not to lose sight of me, when I 
 took an airing into the country. This method of 
 exercising the police appeared to me to unite both 
 the French machiavelisra, and German clumsiness. 
 The Austrians have persuaded themselves that they 
 have been beat, because they had not so much wit 
 as the French, and that the wit of the French con- 
 sists in their police system ; in consequence they 
 have set about making a methodical espionnage, 
 organizing that ostensibly, which should at all 
 events be concealed ; and although destined by 
 nature to be very honest people, they have made 
 it a kind of duty to imitate a state which unites the 
 extremes of jacobinism and despotism. 
 
 I could not help, however, being uneasy at this 
 espionnage, when the least common sense was 
 sufficient to see that flight was now my only ob- 
 ject. They tried to alarm me about the arrival 
 
3 88 TEN YEARS EXILE. 
 
 of my Russian passport ; they pretended that I 
 mij^'it have to wait several oionths for it, and that 
 then the war would prevent oie from passing. It 
 was easy for rue to judge that 1 could tiot remain 
 at Vienna after the French ambassador relumed 
 to it: what would then become of me ? I inireated 
 M. de Stackelburg to give me some means of 
 passing by Odessa, to repair tjO Constantinople* 
 But Odessa being Russian, a passport from Pe- 
 tersburg was equally necessary to go there; there, 
 therefore, remained no road open but the direct 
 one to Turkey, through Hungary ; and this road^ 
 passing on the borders of Servia, was subject to 
 a thousand dangers. I might still reach the port 
 of Salonica, by going across the interior of Greece; 
 the archduke Francis had taken this road to get 
 into Sardinia ; but the archduke Francis is a good 
 horseman, and of that 1 was scarcely capable: 
 still less could I think of exposing so young a 
 person as my daughter to such a journey. I was 
 obliged, therefore, although the idea was most 
 painful to me, to determine on parting with her, 
 and sending her by the way of Denmark and 
 Sweden in the charge of persons in whom 1 could 
 confide. I concluded at all hazards an agreement 
 with an Armejiian to take me to Constantinople. 
 From thence 1 proposed to pass by Greece, Sici- 
 ly, Cadiz, and Lisbon, and however hazardous 
 was this voyage, it offered a fine perspective to 
 the imagination. I addressed the office for foreign 
 affairs, directed by a subaltern during the absence 
 of M. de Metternich, for a passport which would 
 enable me to leave Austria by Hungary, or by 
 Gallicia, according as I might go to Petersburg 
 or to Constantinople. 1 was told that 1 must 
 make iny election ; that they could not give me 
 
TEN years' EXtLE. IB9 
 
 a passport to go by two different frontiers, and 
 that even to go to Presburg, which is the first 
 city of Hungary, only six leagues from Vienna, it 
 was necessary to have an authority from the com- 
 mittee of States. Certainly 1 could not help 
 thinking that Europe, which was formerly so open 
 to all travellers, is become, under the influence 
 of the emperor Napoleon, like a great net, in 
 which you get entangled at every step. How 
 many restraints and shackles there are upon the 
 shghtest movements ! And can it be conceived 
 that the unhappy governments which France op- 
 presses, console themselves for it by making the 
 miserable remains of power which has been left 
 them, fall heavy in a thousand ways upon their 
 subjects I 
 
 CHAPTER Vni. 
 
 Deparh^re from Vienna, 
 
 Obliged to make my election, I decided at last 
 for Gallicia, which would ccrduct me to the coun- 
 try I preferred, namely, to Russia. I flattered my- 
 self, that once at a distance from Vienna, all these 
 vexations, excited no doubt by the French govern- 
 ment, would cease ; and that at all events, I might, 
 if it was necessary, quit Gallicia, and regain 
 Bucharest by Transylvania. The geography of 
 Europe, such as Napoleon has constituted it, is but 
 too well learned by misfortune ; the turnings which 
 I was obliged to take to avoid his power were al- 
 ready near two thousand leagues ; and now at my 
 departure even from Vienna I was constrained to 
 
 17* 
 
190 TEN years' exile* 
 
 borrow ilie Asiatac territory to escape from it. I 
 departed, therefore, without having received my 
 Russian passport, hoping thereby to quiet the un- 
 easiness which the subaltern police of Vienna ap« 
 peared to feel about the presence of a female who 
 was in disgrace with the emperor Napoleon. I re- 
 quested one of my friends to rejoin me, by travelling 
 night and day, as soon as the answer from Russia 
 arrived, and I proceeded on my road. I did very 
 wrong in taking this step, for at Vienna I was pro- 
 tected by my friends and by public opinion ; I could 
 there easily address myself to the emperor or to his 
 prime minister : but once confined to a provincial 
 town, I had only to do with the stupid wickedness 
 of a subaltern, who wished to make a merit with 
 the French government of his conduct toward me ; 
 this was the method he took. 
 
 I stopped for some days at Brunn, the capital of 
 Moravia, where an English colonel, a Mr. Mills, 
 was detained in exile ; he was a man of the most 
 perfect goodness and obliging manners, and ac- 
 cording to the English expression, altogether fnq/^ 
 fensive. He was made dreadfuly miserable, without 
 the least pretence or utility. But the Austrian min- 
 istry is apparently persuaded that it will derive an 
 air of strength from turning persecutor ; its coun- 
 sellors are not mistaken ; and as was said by a man 
 of wit, their manner of governing in matters of po- 
 lice, resembles the sentinels placed upon the half de- 
 stroyed citadel of Brunn, — they keep a strict guard 
 round the ruins. Scarcely had I arrived at Brunn 
 when all sorts of difficulties were started about my 
 passports, and those of my companions. I asked 
 permission to send my son to Vienna, to give the 
 necessary explanations upon these points. I was 
 told that neither myself nor my son would be allow- 
 
TEN years' exile, t^}t 
 
 ed to go one league backwards. I know not if the 
 emperor, orM. de Metternich, were informed of all 
 these absurd acts, but I encountered at Brunn, in the 
 agents of government, a dread of compromising 
 themselves, which appeared to me quite worthy of 
 the present French regime ; and it must even be 
 admitted that when the French are afraid, they are 
 more excusable, for under the emperor Napoleon 
 they run the risk of exile, imprisonment, or death. 
 The governor of Moravia, a man in other re- 
 spects very estimable, informed me that I was or- 
 dered to go through Gallicia as quickly as possible, 
 and that I was forbid stopping more than twenty- 
 four hours at Lanzut, where i had the intention of 
 going. Lanzut is the estate of the princess Lubo- 
 rairska, the sister of prince Adam Czartorinski, 
 marshal of the Fv'lish Confederation, which the 
 Austrian troops were going to support. The prin- 
 cess Lubomirska was herself generally respected 
 from her personal character, and the liberal use 
 which she made of her splendid fortune ; besides, 
 her attachment to the house of Austria was conspi- 
 cuous, and although a Pole by birth, she had never 
 participated in the spirit of opposition which has 
 always been exhibited in Poland to the Austrian 
 government. Her nephew and niece, Prince Henry 
 and the princess Theresa, with whom I had the 
 honour to be intimate, are both of them endowed 
 with the most brilliant and amiable qualities ; they 
 might no doubt be supposed to entertain a strong 
 attachment to their Polish country, but it was then 
 rather diiScuIt to make a crime of this opinion, when 
 the prince of Schwarzenberg was sent at the head 
 of thirty thousand men to fight for the restoration 
 of Poland. To what miserable shifts are those 
 princes reduced, Who are constantly told that they 
 
192 TEN years' exile. 
 
 must yield to circumstances ? it is proposing with 
 ,hem to govern with every wind. The successes of 
 Bonaparte excite the envy of the greater pan of the 
 governors of Germany : they persuade themselves 
 that they were beat because they were too honest, 
 whereas it was because they had not been honest 
 enough. If the Germans had imitated the Spa- 
 niards — ^if they had said, — whatever be the conse- 
 quences, we will not bear a foreign yoke : they 
 would still be a nation, and their princes would not 
 be r:ang]ing, I do not say in the anti-chambers of 
 the emperor Napoleon, but in those of all the per- 
 sons on whom a ray of his favour is fallen. The 
 emperor of Austria and his intelligent companion 
 certainly preserve as much dignity as they can in 
 their situation ; but this situation is so artificial in 
 itself, that it is impossible to give lustre to it. None 
 of the actions of the Austrian government in favour 
 of French interests can be attributed to an}' thing 
 but fear ; and this new muse inspires very sorrow- 
 ful strains. 
 
 I tri^d to represent to the governor of Moravia, 
 that if I was thus hurried with so much politeness 
 toward the frontier, 1 knew not what would be- 
 come of mej having no Russian passport, and that 
 I should be obliged, from inability to go either 
 forward or backward, to pass my life at Brody, a 
 frontier town betvv^een Russia and Austria, inhabi- 
 ted by Jews, xvho have settled there to carry on 
 the trade of carrying from the one empire to the 
 other. '' What jou say is very true," replied the 
 governor, " but here is my order." For some 
 time past governments have found the art of incul- 
 cating that a civil agent is subject to the same dis- 
 cipline as a milifary officer; with the latter, re- 
 flection is altogetiier forbiddeOj or at least rarely 
 
TEN years' exile 193 
 
 finds a place: but one would have some difScuIty 
 in making men responsible it) ihe eye of the law, 
 sucii as are oil the magistrates of Engjland, com- 
 prehend, that ihey are not allowed to have an 
 opi:iion upon the oidtr that is given them. AncJ 
 wiiQi is the consecjuence o[ this servile obedience? 
 If it b.ad on^ the head of the sta(e for its object, 
 it might siill be considered proper in an absolute 
 monarchy ; but during the absence of that head, 
 or his representative, a subaltern may abuse at 
 his pleasure those measures of police, the infernal 
 inventions of arbitrary governments, and of which 
 real greatness will never make use. 
 
 I departed for Gallicia, and this time, I con- 
 fess, I v/as completely depressed ; the phantom of 
 tyranny followed me every where; 1 saw those 
 Germans, whom I had known so upright, depra- 
 ved by the fatal marriage, which seemed to have 
 even altered the biood of the subjects, as it had 
 done that of their sovereign. I thought that Eu- 
 rope existed only beyond the seas, or the Pyre- 
 nees, and I despaired of reaching an asylum to 
 my inclination. The spectacle of GalJicia was 
 not of a kind to revive any hopes of the destiny 
 of the human race. The Austriaps have not ac- 
 quired the art of making the-nselves beloi'ed by the 
 foreign nations which are subject to them. During 
 the period they were iri possession of Venice, the 
 first thing they did was to put down the Carnival, 
 which had become in a manner an institution, so 
 lor/g a time had elapsed since the Veneiian carni- 
 val was talked of. The rudest people of the mo- 
 narchy were selected to govern that gay city; no 
 wonder, therefore, that ihe nations of the south 
 should almost prefer bein^ pillaged by the French 
 to being governed by the Auauiau^. 
 
194 TEN years' exile* 
 
 The Poles love their country as an unfortunate 
 friend : the country is dull and monotonous, the 
 people ignorant and lazy ; they have always 
 wished for liberty; they have never known how 
 to acquire it. But the Poles think that they can 
 and may govern Poland, and the feeling is very 
 natural. The education however of the people is 
 so much neglected, and all kind of industry is so 
 foreign to them, that the Jews have possessed 
 themselves of the entire trade, and make the pea- 
 sants sell them for a quantity of brandy the whole 
 harvest of the approaching year. The distance 
 between the nobility and the peasantry is so im- 
 mense, the contrast between the luxury of the 
 one, and the frightful misery of the other is so 
 shocking, that it is probable the Austrians have 
 given them better laws than those which previ- 
 ously existed. But a proud people, and the Poles 
 are so even in their misery, does not wish to be 
 humbled, even when they are benefited, and in 
 that point the Austrians have never failed. They 
 have divided Gallicia into circles, each of which 
 is commanded by a German functionary ; some- 
 times a person of distinction accepts this employ- 
 ment, but it is J much more frequently a kind of 
 brute, taken from the subaltern ranks, and who in 
 virtue of his office commands in the most despotic 
 manner the greatest noblemen of Poland. The po- 
 lice, which in the present times has replaced the 
 secret tribunal, authorizes the most oppressive 
 mea>Aires. Now let us only imagine what the 
 police can be, namely, the most subtle and arbi- 
 trary power in the government, entrusted to the 
 rude bands of the captain of a circle. At every 
 post house in Gallicia there are to be seen three 
 descriptions of persons who gather round travel- 
 
TEN years' exile. 195 
 
 lers' carriages : the Jew traders, the PoHsh beg- 
 gars, and the German spies. The country appears 
 exclusively inhabited by these three classes of 
 men. The beggars, with their long beards and 
 ancient Sarmatian costume, excite deep connmise- 
 ration ; it is very true that if they would work 
 they need not be in that state ; but I know not 
 whether it is pride or laziness which makes them 
 disdain the culture of the enslaved earth. 
 
 You meet upon the high roads processions of 
 men and women carrying the standard of the 
 cross, and singing psalms ; a profound expression 
 of melancholy reigns upon their countenance : I 
 have seen them, when not money, but food of a 
 better sort than they had been accustomed to 
 was given them, turn up their eyes to heaven with 
 astonishment, as if they considered themselves 
 unfit to enjoy its bounty. The custom of the 
 common people in Poland is to embrace the 
 knees of the nobility when they meet them ; you 
 cannot stir a step in a village without having the 
 women, children, and old men saluting you in 
 this manner. In the midst of this spectacle of 
 wretchedness you might see some men in shabby 
 attire, who were spies upon misery : for that was 
 the only object which could offer itself to their 
 eyes. The captains of the circles refused pass- 
 ports to the Polish noblemen, for fear they should 
 see one another, or lest they should go to,Warsaw. 
 They obliged these noblemen to appear before 
 them every eight days, in order to certify their 
 presence. The Austrians thus proclaimed in all 
 manner of ways that they were detested in Po- 
 land, and they separated their troops into two 
 equal divisions : the first entrusted with support- 
 ing cxiernally the interests of Poland, and the 
 
196 TEN TSARS EXILE. 
 
 second employed in the interior to prevent the 
 Poles from aiding ihe same cause. I do not be- 
 lieve that any country was ever more wretchedly 
 governed than Gallicia was at that time, ai least 
 under political considerations ; and it was appa- 
 rently to conceai this spectacle from general ob- 
 servation that so many difficulties were made in 
 allowing a stranger to reside in, or even to pass 
 through the country. 
 
 I return to the manner in which the Austrian 
 police behaved to me to hasten my journey. In 
 this road it is necessary to have your passport 
 examined by each captain of a circle; and every 
 third post you found one of the chief towns of 
 the circle. They had put placards in the police 
 offices of all these towns that a strict eye must 
 be kept on me as I passed through. If it was 
 not for the singular impertinence of treating a 
 female in this manner, and that a female who had 
 been persecuted for doing justice to Germany, 
 one could not help laughing at the excess of stu- 
 pidity which could publish in capital letters mea- 
 sures of police, the whole strength of which 
 consists in their secresy. It reminded me of M. 
 de Sartines, who had formerly proposed to give 
 spies a livery. It is not that the director of all 
 these absurdities is, as some say, devoid of un- 
 derstanding: but he has such a strong desire to 
 please the French government, that he even 
 seeks to do hiuiself honour by his meannesses, 
 as publicly as possible. This proclaimed in- 
 spection was executed with as much ingenuity as 
 it was conceived : a corporal, or a clerk, or per- 
 haps both together, came to look at my carriage, 
 smoking their pipes, and when they had gone the 
 -round of it, they went their way without even 
 
TEN YEARS* EXILE. 197 
 
 ileigning to tell me if there was any thing the 
 matter with it ; if they had done that, they 
 would -have been at least good for something. 1 
 made very slow progress to wait for the Russian 
 passport, now my only means of safety in the 
 circumstances in which I was placed. One morn- 
 ing I turned out of my road to go and see a 
 ruined castle, which belonged to the princess Lu- 
 bomirska. To get to it, I had to go over roads, 
 of which, without having travelled in Poland, it 
 is impossible to form an idea. la the middle of a 
 sort of desert which I was crossing alone with 
 my son, a person on horseback saluted me in 
 French ; I wished to answer him, but he was al- 
 ready at a distance. I cannot express the effect 
 which the sound of that dear language produced 
 upon me, at a moment so cruel. Ah! if the 
 French were but once free, how one would love 
 them ! they would then be the first themselves to 
 despise their allies. I descended into the court 
 yard of this castle, which was entirely in ruins. 
 The keeper, with his wife and children, came to 
 meet me, and embraced my knees. I caused 
 them to be informed by a bad interpreter, that I 
 knew ihe princess Lubomirska ; that name was 
 sufficient to inspire them with confidence ; they 
 had no doubt of the truth of what I said, although 
 I travelled with a very shabby equipage. They 
 introduced me into a sort of hall, which resembled 
 a prison, and at the moment of my entrance, one 
 of the women came into it to burn perfumes. 
 They had neither white bread nor meat, but an 
 exquisite Hungarian wine, and every where the 
 wrecks of magnificence stood by the side of the 
 greatest misery. This contrast is of frequent re- 
 currence in Poland: there are no beds, even in 
 
 18 
 
19S TEN tears' EXILE. 
 
 houses fitted with the most finished elegance. 
 Every thing appears sketched in this country, and 
 nothing terminated in it ; but what one cai? never 
 sufficiently praise is the goodness of the people, 
 and the generosity of the great : both are easily 
 excited by all that is good and beautiful, and the 
 agents whom Austria sends there seem like wood- 
 en men in the midst of this flexible nation. 
 
 At last my Russian passport arrived, and I 
 shall be grateful for it to the end of my life, so 
 great was the pleasure it gave me. My friends 
 at Vienna had succeeded at the same time in dis- 
 sipating the malignant influence of those who 
 thought to please France by tormenting me. This 
 time I flattered myself with being entirely shel- 
 tered from any farther trouble ; but I forgot that 
 the circular order to the captains of the circles to 
 keep me under inspection, was not yet revoked, 
 and that it was only direct from the ministry that 
 I had the promise of having these ridiculous tor- 
 ments put an end to. I thought, however, that I 
 might venture to follow my first plan, and stop at 
 Lanzut, that castle of the princess Lubomirska, 
 so famous in Poland for the union of the most per- 
 fect taste and magnificence. I anticipated ex- 
 treme pleasure from again seeing prince Henry 
 Lubomirska, whose society, as well as that of his 
 amiable lady, had made me pass at Geneva many 
 agreeable moments. I proposed to myself to re- 
 main there two days, and to continue my journey 
 with great speed, as news came from ail quaners 
 that war was declared between France and Rus- 
 sia. I don't quite see what there was in this plan 
 of mine so dreadful to the tranquillity of Austria ; 
 it was a most singular idea to be jealous of my 
 connection with the Poles, because they served 
 
TEN year's exile. 1 99 
 
 under Bonaparte. No doubt, and I repeat it, the 
 Poles cannot be confounded with the other na- 
 tions who are tributary to France ; it is frightful 
 to be obliged to hope for liberty only from a des- 
 pot, and to expect the independence of one's 
 own nation only from the slavery of the rest of 
 Europe. But, finally, in this Polish cause, the 
 Austrian ministry was more to be suspected than 
 I was, for it furnished troops to support it, while 
 I only consecrated my poor forces to proclaim 
 the justice of the cause of Europe, then defended 
 by Russia. Besides, the Austrian ministry, in 
 common with all the governments in alliance with 
 Bonaparte, has no longer any knowledge of what 
 constitutes opinion, conscience, or affection ; the 
 one single idea which they retain, from the incon- 
 sistency of their own conduct, and the art with 
 which Napoleon's diplomacy has entangled them, 
 is that of mere brute force ; and to please that 
 they do every thing. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Passage through Poland 
 
 I ARRIVED in the beginning of July at the chief 
 town of the circle, in which Lanzut is situated ; my 
 carriage stopped before the post-house, and my 
 son went, as usual, to have my passport examined. 
 I was astonished, at the end of a quarter of an hour, 
 not to see him return, and I requested M. Schlegel 
 to go and ascertain the cause of his delay. They 
 both came back immediately, followed by a man 
 
200 TEN years' exile. 
 
 whose countenance I shall never, during my lile, 
 forget : an affected smile, upon the most stupid 
 features, gave the most disagreeable expression to 
 his countenance. My son, almost beside himself, 
 informed me that the captain of the circle had 
 declared to him that I could not remain more than 
 eight hours at lianzut, and that to secure my obe- 
 dience to this order, one of his commissaries should 
 follow me to the castle, should enter into it with me, 
 and should not quit me until 1 had left it. My son 
 had represented to this captain, that overcome as 
 1 was with fatigue, 1 required more than eight 
 hours to repose myself, and that the sight of a 
 commissary of police, in ray weak state, might 
 give me a very fatal shock. To all these represen- 
 tations the captain replied with a brutality which 
 is quite peculiar to German subalterns; no where 
 also do yoa meet with that obsequious respect for 
 power which immediately succeeds to arrogance to- 
 ward the weak. The mental movements of these 
 men resemble the evolutions of a review day ; they 
 make a half turn to the right, and a half turn to 
 the left, according to the word of command which is 
 given to them. 
 
 The commissary intrusted with the inspection of 
 me, fatigued himself in bowing to the very ground, 
 but would not in the least modify his charge. He 
 got into a caleche, the horses of which followed me 
 so close that they touched the hind wheels of my 
 berline. The idea of entering, escorted in this 
 manner, into the residence of an old friend, into a 
 paradise of delight, where 1 had been feasting my 
 ideas by anticipation, with spending several days , 
 this idea I say made me so ill, that I could not get 
 the better of it ; joined to that also was, I believe, 
 the irritation of finding at my heels this insolent spy. 
 
TEN years' exile. 201 
 
 a very fit subject, certainly, to outwit, if I had had 
 the desire, but who did his duty with an intolerable 
 mixure of pedantry and rigor :^ 1 was seized 
 with a nervous attack in the middle of the 
 road, and they were obliged to lift me out 
 of my carriage, and lay nie down on the side 
 of the ditch. This wretched commissary fan- 
 cied that this was an occasion to take com- 
 passion on me, and without getting out of his 
 carriage himself, he sent his servant to find me a 
 glass of water. I cannot express bow angry I 
 felt with myself for the weakness of my nerves ; 
 the compassion of this man was a last insuh, 
 which 1 woukl at least have wished to spare my- 
 self. He set off again at the same time that 1 did, 
 
 ^ To explain liovv strong and well-founded was the anguish 
 which my mother experienced at this point of her journey, I 
 ought to mention that the attention of the Austrian police was 
 not then confined to her only. The description of M. Rocca had 
 been sent all along the road, with an order to arrest him in 
 quality of his being a French officer ; and although he had resign- 
 ed his commission, and his wounds had incapacitated him from 
 continuing his military service, there is no doubt, that if he had 
 been delivered up lo France, the forfeiture of his life would have 
 been the consequence. He had therefore travelled alone, and 
 under a borrowed name, and it was at Lanzut that he had givea 
 my mother the rendezvous. Having arrived there before her, 
 and not in the least suspecting that she would be escorted by a 
 commissary of police, he came out to meet her, full of joy and 
 confidence. The danger to which he was thus, insensibly, expo- 
 sing himself, transfixed my mother with terror, and siie had 
 barely time to give him a signal to return back ; and had it not 
 been for the generous presence of mind of a Polish geiitlernan, 
 who supplied M. Rocca with the means of escaping, he would 
 infallibly have been recognized and arrested by the commis- 
 sary. 
 
 Ignorant of what might be the fate of her manuscript, and un- 
 der what circumstances, public or private, she might ever publish- 
 it, my mother felt herself under the necessity of entirely suppress- 
 ing these details, to which I am at present allowed to give puh* 
 licity. {.Yote oftheEdUor.) 
 
 18^ 
 
262 TEN years' exile. 
 
 and I made ray entry, along with him, into the 
 court yard of the castle of Lanzat. Prince 
 Henry, not in the least suspecting any thing of 
 the kind, came to meet me with the most amiable 
 gayety ; he was at first frightened with the pale- 
 ness of my looks, but when I told him, which I 
 did immediately, what sort of guest I had brought 
 with me, from that moment his coolness, firmness, 
 and friendship for me, did not belie themselves 
 for a moment. But can one conceive a state of 
 things in which a commissary of police should 
 plant himself at the table of a great nobleman 
 like prince Henry, or rather at that of any person 
 whatever, without his consent ? After supper 
 this commissary came up to my son, and said to 
 him, with that coaxing tone of voice which I par- 
 ticularly dislike, when it is used to say cutting 
 words, '* I ought, according to my orders, to pass 
 the night in your mother's apartment, in order tc 
 be certain that she has no communication with 
 any one ; but from regard to her, 1 will not do it." 
 -' You may add also,'' said my son, " from re- 
 gard to yourself, for if you should dare to put 
 vour foot in my mother's apartment during the 
 , night, I will throw ycu out of the window.", " Ah ! 
 Monsieur le Baron,'' replied the commissary, 
 bowing lower than usual, because his threat had 
 a false air of power which did not fail to affect 
 him. He went to lay down, and the next day at 
 breakfast, the prince's secretary managed him so 
 well, by giving him plenty to eat and drink, that 
 I might, I believe, have remained several hours 
 longer, but I was ashamed at having been the 
 occasion of such a scene in the house of my ami- 
 able host. I did not even allow aiyself time to 
 examine those beautiful gardens, which remind 
 
TEN tears' exile. 20^3 
 
 US of the southern climate, whose productions 
 they offer, nor that house, which has been the 
 asylum oi persecuted French emigrants, and where 
 the artists have seat the tribute of their talents in 
 return for the services rendered them by the lady 
 of the castle. The contrast between such de- 
 lightful and striking impressions, and the grief 
 and indignation I feit, was intolerable ; the recol- 
 lection of Lanzut, which I have so many reasons 
 for loving, even now makes me shudder, when I 
 think of it. 
 
 I took my departure then from this residence, 
 shedding bitter tears, and not knowing what else 
 was in store for me during the fifty leagues I had 
 yet to travel in the Austrian territory. The com- 
 missary accompanied me to the borders of his 
 circle, and when he took his leave, asked me if 1 
 was satisfied with him ; the stupidity of the fellow 
 quite disarmed my resentment. A peculiar fea- 
 ture in ail this persecution, which formerly never 
 entered into ?,he character of the Austrian £o- 
 vernment, is, that it is executed by its agents with 
 as much rudeness as awkwardness | these ci-de- 
 vant honest people carry into the base commis- 
 sions with which they are entrusted, the same 
 scrupulous exactness that ihev formerly did into 
 the good ones, and their limited conception of this 
 new method of government, which was not known 
 to them, makes them commit a hundred blunders, 
 either from want of skill or clumsiness. It is 
 like taking the club of Hercules to kill a fly, and 
 during this useless exertion the most important 
 matters may escape them. 
 
 On leaving the circle of Lanzut, I still found 
 as far as Leopoli the capital of Gallicia, grena- 
 diers placed from post to post to make sure of 
 
 ir 
 

 ^04 TEN years' exile. 
 
 my progress. I should have felt regret at making 
 thcise brave fellows thus lose their time, had it 
 not been for the thought that they were much 
 belter there, than with the unfortunate army de- 
 livered by Austria to Napoleon. On arriving at 
 Leopol, I found again ancient Austria in the go- 
 vernor and commandant of the province, who 
 both received me with the greatest politeness, 
 and gave me, what 1 wished above every thing, 
 an order for passing from Austria into Russia. 
 Such was the end of my residence in this mo- 
 narchy, which I had formerly seen powerful, just 
 and upright. Her alliance with Napoleon while 
 it lasted, degraded her to the lowest rank among 
 nations. History will, doubtless, not forget that 
 she has shown herself very warlike in her long 
 wars against France, and that her last effort to 
 resist Bonaparte was inspired by a national en- 
 thusiasm worthy of all praise ; but the sovereigr* 
 of this country, by yielding to his counsellors ra- 
 ther than to bis own character, has destroyed for 
 ever that enthusiasm, by checking its ebullition. 
 The unfortunate men who perished on the plains 
 of Essling and VVagram, that there might slill be 
 an Austrian monarchy and a German people, 
 could have hardly expected that their companions 
 in arms would be fighting three years afterwards 
 for the extension of Bonaparte's empire to the 
 borders ol Asia, and that there might not be in 
 the whole of Europe, even a desert, where the 
 objects of his proscription, from kings to subjects, 
 might find an asylum ; for such is the object, and 
 the sole object of the war excited by France 
 against Russia. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Arrival in Russia, 
 
 One bad hardly been accustomed to consider 
 Russia as the most free state in Europe ; but 
 such is the weight of the yoke which the Emperor 
 of France has imposed upon all the Continental 
 states, that on arriving at last in a country where 
 his tyranny can no longer make itself felt, you 
 fancy yourself in a republic. It was on the 14th 
 of July that I made my entrance into Russia ; this 
 coincidence with the anniversary of the first day 
 of the Revolution particularly struck me ; and 
 thus closed for me the circle of the history of 
 France, which had commenced on the 14th of 
 July, 1789.* When the barrier which separates 
 Austria from Russia was opened to let me pass, 
 I made an oath never to set my foot in a country 
 subjected in any degree to the emperor Napole- 
 on. Will this oath ever allow me to revisit beau- 
 tiful France? 
 
 The first person who received roe in Russia 
 was a Frenchman, who had formerly been a clerk 
 in my father's bureaux; he talked to me of him 
 with tears in his eyes_, and that name thus pro- 
 nounced, appeared to me of happy augury. In 
 fact, in that Russian empire, so falsely termed 
 
 * It was on the 14th of July, 1817, that my mother wa& taken 
 from us, and received into the bosom of God. What mind is 
 there that would not be affected with religious emotion on me- 
 ditating on the mysterious coincidences which the destiny of the 
 human race presents ! (JYote of ike Editor.) 
 
206 TEN years' exile. 
 
 barbarous, I have experienced none but noble and 
 delightful impressions : may my gratitude draw 
 down additional blessings on this people and their 
 sovereign ! I entered Russia at the moment when 
 the French army had already penetrated a consi- 
 derable distance into the Russian territory, and 
 yet no restraint or vexation of any kind impeded 
 for a moment the progress of a foreign traveller ; 
 neither I, nor my companions, knew a syllable of 
 Russian ; we only spoke Frence, the language of 
 the enemies who were ravaging the. empire: I 
 had not even with me, by a succession of disa- 
 greeable chances, a single servant who could 
 speak Russian, and had it not been for a German 
 physician, (Dr. Renner,) who in the most hand- 
 some manner volunteered his services as our in- 
 terpreter as far as Moscow, we should have justly 
 merited the epithet of deaf and Ji<m6, applied by 
 the Russians to persons unacquainted with their 
 language. Well! even in this state, our journey 
 would have been quite safe and easy, so great is 
 the hospitality of the nobles and the people of 
 Russia ! On our first entrance, we learned that 
 the direct road to Petersburg was already occu- 
 pied by the armies, and that we must go to Mos- 
 cow in order to get the means of conveyance 
 there. This was another round of 200 leagues | 
 but we had already made 1500, and I now seem 
 pleased at having seen Moscow. 
 
 The first province we had to cross, Volhynia, 
 forms a part of Russian Poland ; it is a fertile 
 country, overrun with Jews, like Gallicia, but 
 much less miserable. I stopped at the chateau 
 of a Polish nobleman to whom I had been recom- 
 mended, who advised me to hasten my journey, 
 as the French were marching upon Volhyniaj and 
 
TEJS YfeARs' EXILE. 207 
 
 might easily enter it in eigbt days. The Poles, 
 in general, like the Russians much better than 
 they do the Austrians ; the Russians and Poles 
 are both of Sclavonian origin . they have been 
 enemies, but respect each other mutually, while 
 the Germans, who are further advanced in Euro- 
 pean civilization than the Sclavonians, have not 
 learned to do them justice in other respects. It 
 was easy to see that the Poles in Volhynia were 
 not at all afraid of the entrance of the French ; 
 but although their opinions were known, they 
 were not in the least subjected to that petty per- 
 secution which only excites hatred without re- 
 straining it. The spectacle, however, of one na- 
 tion subjected by another, is always a painful 
 one ; — centuries must elapse before the union is 
 sufficiently esfabiished to make the names of vic- 
 tor and vanquished be forgotten. 
 
 At Gitomir, the chief town of Volhynia, I was 
 told that the Russian minister of police had been 
 sent 10 Wilna, to learn the motive of the emperor 
 Napoleon's aggression, and to make a formal pro- 
 test against his entry into the Russian territory. 
 One can hardly credit the numberless sacrifices 
 made by the emperor Alexander, in order to pre- 
 serve peace. And in fact, far from Napoleon 
 having it in his power to accuse the emperor 
 Alexander of violating the treaty of Tilsit, the 
 latter might have been reproached with a too 
 scrupulous fidelity to that fatal treaty ; and it was 
 rather he who had the right of declaring war 
 against Napoleon, as having first violated it. The 
 €m()eror of France in his conversation with M. 
 Bajasheff, the minister of police, gave himself up 
 to those inconceivable indiscretions which might 
 be taken for abandon, if we did not know that it 
 
208 TEN years' exile. 
 
 suits him to increase the terror which he inspires 
 by exhibiting himself as superior to all kinds of 
 calculation. '' Do you think,'' said he to M. 
 Balasheff, " that I care a straw for these Polish 
 jacobins ?'' And I have been really assurer! that 
 there is in existence a letter, addressed several 
 years since to M. de Romanzoff by one of Napo- 
 leon's ministers, in which it was proposed to strike 
 out the name of Poland and the Poles from all 
 European acts. How unfortunate for this nation 
 that the emperor Alexander had not taken the title 
 of king of Poland, and thereby associated the 
 cause of this oppressed people with that of all 
 generous minds! Napoleon asked one of his gene- 
 rals, in the presence of M. de Balasheff, if he had 
 ever been at Moscow, and what sort of city it 
 was. The general replied that it had appeared 
 to him to be rather a large village than a capital. 
 And how many churches are there in it? conti- 
 nued the emperor. About sixteen hundred, was 
 the reply. That is quite inconceivable, rejoined 
 Napoleon, at a time when the world has ceased to 
 be religious. Pardon me, sire, said M. de Bala- 
 sheff, the Russians and Spaniards are so still. Ad- 
 mirable reply ! and which presaged, one would- 
 hope, that the Russians would be the Caslilians 
 of the norih. 
 
 Nevertheless, the French army made rapid 
 progress, and one has been so accustomed to see 
 the French triumphing over every thing abroad, 
 although at home they know not how to resist any 
 sort of yoke, that I had some reason to apprehend 
 meeting them already on the road to Moscow. 
 What a capricious destiny, for me to flee at first 
 from the French, among whom 1 was born, and 
 who had carried my father in triumph, and now 
 
TEN years' exile. 209 
 
 to flee from them even to the borders of Asia! 
 But, in short, what destiny is there, great or Httle, 
 which the man selected to humble man does not 
 overthrow? I thought I should be obliged to go to 
 Odessa, a city which had become prosperous un- 
 der the enlightened administration of the Duke of 
 Richelieu, and from thence I might have gone to 
 Constantinople and into Greece ; I consoled my- 
 self for this long voyage by the idea of a poem on 
 Richard Cceur-de-Lion, which I have the intention 
 of writing, if life and health are spared me. This 
 poem is designed to paint the manners and cha- 
 racter of the East, and to consecrate a grand 
 epoch in the English history, that when the en- 
 thusiasm of the Crusades gave place to the enthu- 
 siasm of liberty. But as we cannot paint what 
 we have not seen, no more than we can express 
 properly what we have not felt, it was necessary 
 for me to go to Constantinople, into Syria, and 
 into Sicily, there to follow the steps of Richard. 
 My travelling companions, better acquainted with 
 my strength than I was myself, dissuaded me from 
 such an undertaking, and assured me that by using 
 expedition, I could travel post much quicker than 
 an army. It will be seen that i had not in fact a 
 great deal of time to spare. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Kiozv, 
 
 Determined to continue my journey through 
 Russia, I proceeded toward Kiow, the principal 
 city of the Ukraine, and formerly of all Russia, for 
 
 19 
 
210 TEN tears' exile. 
 
 this empire began by fixing its capital in the Soulb. 
 The Russians had then conthiual communication 
 with the Greeks established at Constantinople, and 
 in general with the people of the East, whose habits 
 they have adopted in a variety of instances. The 
 Ukraine is a very fertile country, but by no means 
 agreeable ; you see large plains of wheat which ap- 
 pear to be cultivated by invisible hands, the habita- 
 tions and inhabitants are so rare. You must not 
 expect, in approaching Kiow^, or the greater part 
 of what are called cities in Russia, to find any thing 
 resembling the cities of the West ; the roads are 
 not better kept, nor do country houses indicate 
 more numerous population. On my arrival at Kiow, 
 the first object that met my eyes was a cemetery, 
 and this was the first indication to me of being near 
 k place where men were collected. The houses at 
 Kiow generally resemble tents, and at a distance, 
 the city appears like a camp ; I could not help fan- 
 cying that the moveable residences of the Tartars 
 had furnished models for the construction of those 
 wooden houses, which have not a much greater 
 appearance of solidity. A few days are sufficient 
 for building them ; they are very often consumed by 
 fire^ and an order is sent to the forest for a house, 
 as you would send to market to lay in your winter 
 stock of provisions. In the middle of these huts, 
 however, palaces have been erected, and a number 
 of churches, whose green and gilt cupolas singu- 
 larly draw the attention. When toward the even- 
 ing the sun darts his rays on these brilliant domes, 
 you would fancy that h was rather an illumination 
 for a festival, than a durable edifice. 
 
 The Russians never pass a church without mak- 
 ing a sign of the cross, and their long beards add 
 greatly to the religious expression of their physl- 
 
TEN YEARS* EXILE. 211 
 
 ognomy. Thej^ generally wear a large blue robe, 
 fastened round the waist by a scarlet band : the 
 dresses of the women have also something Asiatic 
 in them; and one remarks that taste for lively 
 colours which we derive from the East, where the 
 sun is so beautiful, that one likes to make his eclat 
 more conspicuous by the objects which he shines 
 upon. I speedily contracted such a partiality to 
 these oriental dresses, that I could not bear to see 
 Russians dressed like other Europeans : they seem- 
 ed to me then entering into that great regularity 
 of the despotism of Napoleon, which first makes all 
 nations a present of the conscription, then of the 
 war-taxes, and lastly, of the Code Napoleon, in or- 
 der to govern in the same manner, nations of totally 
 different characters. 
 
 The Dnieper, which the ancients called Bo- 
 rysthenes, passes by Kiow, and the old tradition 
 of the country affirms, that it was a boatman, who 
 in crossing it found ils~ waters so pure that he was 
 led to found a town on its banks. In fact, the 
 rivers are the most beautiful natural objects in 
 Russia. It would be difficult to find any small 
 streams, their course would be so much obstruct- 
 ed by the sand. There is scarcely any variety 
 of trees; the melancholy birch is incessantly re- 
 curring in this uninventive nature ; even the want 
 of stones might be almost regretted, so much is 
 the eye sometimes fatigued with meeting neither 
 hill nor valley, and to be always making progress 
 without encountering new objects. The rivers 
 relieve the imagination from this fatigue ; the 
 priests, therefore, bestow their benedictions on 
 these rivers. The emperor, empress, and the 
 whole court, attend the ceremony of the bene- 
 diction of the Neva, at the moment of the se- 
 
212 TEN years' exile. 
 
 verest cold of winter. It is said that Waldimir, 
 at the commencement of the eleventh century, 
 df:clared, that all ihe waters of the Borysthenes 
 were holy, and that plunging in them was suffi- 
 cient to make a man a christian ; the baptism of 
 the Greeks being performed by immersion, mil- 
 lions of men went into this river to abjure their 
 idolatry. It was this same Waldimir who sent 
 deputies to different countries, to learn which of 
 all the religions it best suited him to adopt ; he 
 decided for the Greek ritual, on account of the 
 pomp of its ceremonies. Perhaps, also, he pre- 
 ferred it for more important, reasons ; in fact, the 
 Greek faith, by excluding the papal power, 
 gives the sovereign of Russia the spiritual and 
 temporal power united. 
 
 The Greek religion is necessarily less intole- 
 rant than the Roman Catholic ; for being itself 
 reproached as a schism, it can hardly complain of 
 heretics ; all rtiigions therefore are admitted 
 into Russia, and fi'oai the borders of the Don to 
 th:se oi the JNt^va, the fraternity of country 
 Uiiiies men, even though their theological opi- 
 nions may separate them. The Greek priests 
 are allowed to maiTv, and scarcely any gentle- 
 man enibraces this profession : it follows that the 
 clergy has \ery little political ascendancy ; it acts 
 u[.)on the people, bai it is very submissive lo the 
 emperor. 
 
 The ceremonies of the Greek worship are at 
 least as beautiful as those of the catholics ; the 
 church music is heavenly : every thing in this 
 worship leads to meditation; it has something of 
 poetry 8nd feeling about it, but it appears better 
 adapted to captivate the imagination than to regu- 
 late tlie conduct. When the priest comes out 
 
TEN years' exile, 2IS 
 
 of the sanctuary, in which he remains shut up 
 while he comnounicates, you would say that you 
 saw the gates of hght opening; the cloud of in- 
 cense which surrounds him, the gold and silver, 
 and precious stones, which glitter on his robes 
 and in the church, seem to come from countries 
 where the sun is an object of adoration. The 
 devout sentiments which are inspired by Gothic 
 architecture in Germany, France, and England, 
 cannot be at all compared with the effect of the 
 Greek churches ; they rather remind us of the 
 minarets of the Turks and Arabs than of our 
 churches. As liftle must we expect to find, as 
 in Italy, the splendour of (he fine arts ; their most 
 remarkable ornaments are virgins and saints 
 crowned with rubies and diamonds. Magnificence 
 is the character of every thing one sees in Rus- 
 sia; neither the genius of man nor the gifts of 
 nature constitute its beauties. 
 
 The ceremonies of marriage, of baptism, and 
 of burial, are noble and affecting; we find in 
 them some ancient customs of Grecian idolatry, 
 but only those which, having no connection with 
 doctrine, can add to the impression of the three 
 great scenes of life, birth, marriage, and death. 
 The Russian peasants siill continue the custom 
 of addressmg the dead previous to a final separa- 
 tion from his remains. Why is it, say they, that 
 thou hast abandoned us ? Wert thou then un- 
 happy on this earth? Was not thy wife fair 
 and good ? Why therefore hast thou left her ? 
 The dead replies not, but the value of existence 
 is thus proclaimed in the presence of those who 
 still pre-erve it. 
 
 At Kiow we were shown some catacombs which 
 reminded us a little of those at Rome, and to 
 which pilgrimages are made on foot from Casan 
 
 19* 
 
214 TEN years' exile, 
 
 and other cities bordering on Asia ; but these 
 pilgrimages cost less in Russia, than they would 
 any where else, although the distances are much 
 greater. It is in the character of the people to 
 have no fear of fatigue, or of any bodily suffer- 
 ing ; in this nation there is both patience and ac- 
 tivity, both gayety and melancholy. You see 
 united the most striking contrasts ; and it is that 
 which makes one predict great things of them ; 
 for generally it is only in beings of superior order 
 that we find an union of opposite qualities ; the 
 mass is in general of a uniform colour. 
 
 I made at Kiow the trial of Russian hospitality. 
 The governor of the province. General Milorado- 
 witsch, loaded me with the most amiab'e atten- 
 tions ; he had been an aide-de-camp of Suwarow, 
 like him intrepid; he inspired me with greater 
 confidence than I then had in the military suc- 
 cesses of the Russians. Before this, I had only 
 happened to meet some officers of the German 
 school, who had entirely got rid of their Russian 
 character. I saw in General Miloradowitsch a 
 real Russian ; brave, impetuous, confident, and 
 wholly free from that spirit of imitation which 
 sometimes entirely robs his countrymen even of 
 their national character. He told me a number 
 of anecdotes of Suwarow, which prove that that 
 warrior studied a great deal, although he preserv- 
 ed the original instinct which is connected with 
 the immediate knowledge of men and things. He 
 carefully concealed his studies, to strike, with 
 greater force, the imagination of his troops, by 
 assuming in all thmgs an air of inspiration. 
 
 The Russians have, in my opinion, much greater 
 resemblance to the people of the South, or rather 
 of the East, than to lhos€ of the North. What is 
 
TEN years' exile. 215 
 
 European in them belongs merely to the manners 
 of the court, which are nearly the same in all 
 countries 5 but their nature is eastern. General 
 Miloradowitsch related to me, that a regiment of 
 Kalmucks had been put into garrison at Kiow, 
 and that the prince of these Kalmucks came to 
 him one day, to confess that he suffered very 
 much from passing the winter cooped up in a 
 town, and wished to obtain permission to encamp 
 in the neighbouring forest. Such a cheap plea- 
 sure it was impossible to refuse him; he and all 
 his regiment went in consequence, in the middle 
 of the snow, to take up their abode in their chari- 
 ots, which, at the same time, serve them for 
 huts. The Russian soldiers bear nearly in the 
 same degree the fatigues and privations of cli- 
 mate or of war, and the people of all classes ex- 
 hibit a contempt of obstacles and of physical suf- 
 fering, which will carry them successfully through 
 the greatest undertakings. This Kalmuck prince, 
 to whom wooden houses appeared a residence 
 loo delicate in the middle of winter, gave diamonds 
 to the ladies who pleased him at a ball ; and as 
 he could not make himself understood by them, 
 he substituted presents for compliments, in the 
 manner practised in India and other silent coun- 
 tries of the East, where speech has less influence 
 than with us. General Miloradowitsch invited 
 me, the very evening of my departure, to a ball 
 at the house of a Moldavian princess, to which I 
 regretted very much being unable to go. All these 
 names of foreign countries and of nations which 
 are scarcely any longer European, singularly 
 awaken the imagination. You feel yourself in 
 Russia at the gate of another earth, near to that 
 East from which have proceeded so many reli- 
 
216 TEN years' exile. 
 
 gious creeds, and which still contains in its bosona 
 incredible treasures of perseverance and reflec- 
 tion. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Road from Kipw to Moscow, 
 
 About nine hundred versts still separated Kiow 
 from Moscow. Bij^ Russian coachmen drove me 
 along like lightning, singinj^ aus. the words of which 
 I was told were compl)ir*euis and encouragemtnts to 
 their horses. '* Go alui.g,' they said, ^^ my friends: 
 we know one another ; go quick," I have as yet 
 seen nothing at all barbarous in this people ; on the 
 contrary thesr forms have an elegarjce and softness 
 about them which you find no where else. Never 
 does a Russian coachman pass a female, of what- 
 ever age or rank she may be, without saluting her, 
 and the female returns it by an inclination of the 
 head which is always noble and grarefuL An old 
 man who could not make himself understood by 
 me, pointed to the earth, and then to the heaven, to 
 signify to me, that the one woold shortly be to him 
 the road to the other I know very well that the 
 shocking barbarities which disfigure the history of 
 Russia may be urged, reasonably, as evidence of a 
 contrary character ; but these I should rather lay 
 to the charge of the boyars, the class which was de- 
 praved by the despotism which it exercised or sub- 
 mitted to, than to the nation itself. Besides, politi- 
 cal dissentions, every where and at all times, distort 
 national character, and there is nothing more de- 
 plorable than that succession of masters, whom 
 
TENT years' exile. 21T 
 
 crimes have elevated or overturned ; but such is the 
 fatal condition of absolute power on this earth. 
 The civil servants of the governraent, of an inferior 
 class, all those who look to make their fortune by 
 their suppleness or intrigues, in no degree resemble 
 the inhabitants of the country, and I can readily 
 believe all the ill that has been and may be said of 
 them ; but to appreciate properly the character of 
 a warlike nation, we must look to its soldiers, and 
 the class from which its soldiers are taken, the pea- 
 santry. 
 
 Although I was driven along with great rapidity, 
 it seemed to me that 1 did not advance a step, the 
 country was so extremely monotonous. Plains of 
 sandj forests of birch tree, and villages at a great 
 distance from each other, coiaposed of wooden 
 houses all built upon the same plan : these were the 
 only objects that ray eyes encountered. I felt that 
 sort of nightmare which sometiaies seizes one dur- 
 ing the night, when you think you are always 
 marching and never advancing. The country ap- 
 peared to me like the iriiage of infinite space, and 
 to require eternity to traverse it. Every instant you 
 met couriers passing, wiio went along with incredi- 
 ble swiftness ; they were seated on a wooden bench 
 placed across a little cart drawn by two horses, and 
 nothing stopped them for a moment. The jolting 
 of their carriage sometimes made them spring two 
 feet above it, but they fell with astonishing address, 
 and made haste to call out in Russian, forioard^ 
 with an energy similar to that of the French on a 
 day of battle. The Sclavonian language is singu- 
 larly echoing ; I should almost say there is some- 
 thing metallic about it ; you would think you heard 
 abeli striking, when the Russians pronounce certain 
 
218 TEN tears' exile. 
 
 iettersof their alphabet, quite different from those 
 which compose the dialects of the West. 
 
 We saw passing some corps de reserve approach- 
 ing by forced marches to the theatre of war ; the 
 Cossacks were repairing, one by one, to the army^ 
 without order or uniform, with a long lance in 
 their hand, and a kind of grey dress, whose ample 
 hood they put over their head. I had formed quite 
 another idea of these people ; they live behind the 
 Dnieper; there their way of living is independent, 
 ill the manner of savages ; but during war they al- 
 low themselves to be governed despotically. One 
 is accustomed to see, in fine uniforms of brilliant 
 colours, the most formidable armies. The dull co« 
 lours of the Cossack dress excite another sort of fear 5 
 one might say that they are ghosts who pounce 
 upon you. 
 
 Half way between Kiow and Moscow, as we 
 were already in the vicinity of the armies, hordes 
 became more scarce. I began to be afraid of be- 
 ing detained in my journey, at the very moment 
 when the necessity of speed became most urgent ; 
 and when I had to wait for five or six hours in 
 front of a post-house, (as there was seldom an 
 apartment into which 1 could enter,) 1 thought 
 with trembling of that army which might overtake 
 me at the extremity of Europe, and render my 
 situation at once tragical and ridiculous ; for it 
 is thus with the failure of an undertakinc^ of this 
 kind. The circumstances which compelled me 
 to it not being generally known, I might have 
 been asked why I quitted my own house, even 
 although it had been made a prison to me, and 
 there are good enough people who would not 
 have failed to say, with an air of compunction, 
 that it was very unlucky, but that I should have 
 
TEJf years' exile. 219 
 
 done better to stay where I was. If tyranny had 
 only its direct partisans on its side, it could never 
 maintain itself; the astonishing thing, and which 
 proves human misery more than all, is, that the 
 greater part of mediocre people enlist themselves 
 in the service of events : they have not the 
 strength to think deeper than a fact, and when an 
 oppressor has triumphed, and a victim has been 
 destroyed, they hasten to justify, not exactly 
 the tyrant, but the destiny whose instrument he 
 is. Weakness of mind and character is, no doubt, 
 the cause of this servility : but there is also in 
 man a certain desire of finding destiny, whatever 
 it may be, in ihe right, as if it was a way of living 
 in peace with it. 
 
 I reached at last that part of my road which re- 
 moved me from the theatre of war, and arrived 
 in the governments of Orel and Touja, which 
 have been so much talked of since, in the bulle- 
 tins of the two armies. I was received in these 
 solitary abodes, for so the provincial towns ia 
 Russia appear, with the most perfecf hospitality* 
 Several gentlemen of the neighbournood came to 
 my inn, to compliment me on ray wnimg?, and I 
 confess having been flattered to find that my lite- 
 rary reputation had extended to this distance 
 from my native country. The lady of the gover- 
 nor received me in the Asiatic style, with sherbet 
 and roses ; her apartment was elegantly furnished 
 vnih musical instruments and pictures. In Europe 
 you see every where the contrast of wealth and 
 poverty; but in Russia it maybe said that neither 
 one nor the other makes itself remarked. The 
 people are not poor ; the great know how to lead, 
 when it is necessary, the same life as the people: 
 it is the mixture of the hardest privations, and of 
 
2120 TEN years' exile. 
 
 the most refined erijoyments, which characterizes 
 the country. These same noblenfien, whose resi- 
 dence unites all that the luxury of different parts 
 of the world has most attractive, live, while they 
 are travelling, on much worse food than our 
 French peasantry, and know how to bear, not 
 only during war, but in various circumstances of 
 life, a physical existence of the most disagreeable 
 kind. The severity of the climate, the marshes, 
 .the forests, the deserts, of which a great part of 
 the country is composed, place man in a continual 
 struggle with nature. Fruits, and even flowers, 
 only grow in hot-houses ; vegetables are not ge- 
 nerally cultivated ; and there are no vines any 
 where. The habitual mode of life of the French 
 peasants could not be obtained in Russia but at 
 a very great expense. There they have only 
 necessaries by luxury : whence it happens, that 
 "when luxury is unattainable, even necessaries are 
 renounced. What the English call comforts are 
 hardly to be met with in Russia. You will never 
 find any thing sufficiently perfect to satisfy, in all 
 ways, the imagination of the great Russian noble- 
 men ; but when this poetry of wealth fails them, 
 they drink hydromel, sleep upon a board, and 
 travel day and night in an open carriage, without 
 regretting the luxury to which one would think 
 they had been habituated. It is rather as mag- 
 nificence that they love fortune, than from the 
 pleasures they derive from it: resembling still in 
 that point the Easterns, who exercise hospitality 
 to strangers, load them with presents, and yet 
 frequently neglect the every day comforts of their 
 own life. This is one of the reasons which ex- 
 plains that noble courage with which the Rus- 
 sians have supported the ruin which has been oc- 
 
TEN years' exile. 221 
 
 casioned them by the burning of Moscow. More 
 accustomed to external pomp than to the care of 
 themselves, they are not moJlified by luxury, and 
 the sacrifice of money satisfies their pride as much 
 or more ihan the magnificence of their expendi- 
 ture. What characterizes this people, is some- 
 thing gigantic of all kinds: ordinary dimensions 
 are not at all applicable to it. I do not by that 
 mean to say, that neither real grandeur nor sta- 
 bility are to be met with in it : but the boldness 
 and the imagination of the Russians know no 
 bounds ; with them every thing is colossal rather 
 than well proportioned, audacious rather than 
 reflective, and if they do not hit the mark, it is 
 because they overshoot it. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Appearance of the Country, — Character of th& 
 
 Russians, 
 
 I WAS always advancing nearer to Moscow, but 
 nothing yet indicated the approach to a capital. 
 The wooden villages were equally distant from 
 each other, we saw no greater movement upon 
 the immense plains which are called high roads 5 
 you heard no more noise; the country houses were 
 not more numerous : there is so much space in 
 Russia, that every thing is lost in it, even the cha- 
 teaux, even the population. You might suppose 
 you were travelling through a country from which 
 the people had just taken their departure. The 
 absence of birds adds to this silence ; cattle also 
 are rare, or at least they are placed at a great 
 
 20 
 
222 TEN years' exile. 
 
 distance from the road. Extent makes every thing 
 disappear, except extent itself, like certain ideas 
 in metaphysics, of which the noind can never get 
 rid, when it has once seized them. 
 
 On the eve of my arrival at Moscow, I stopper] 
 in the evening of a very hot day, in a pleasant 
 meadow: the female peasants, in picturesque 
 dresses, according to the custom of the country, 
 were returning from their labour, singing those 
 airs of the Ukraine, the words of which, in praise 
 of love and liberty, breathe a sort of melancholy 
 approaching to regret. I requested them to 
 dance, and they consented. I know nothing more 
 graceful than these dances of the country, which 
 have all the originaUty which nature gives to the 
 fine arts ; a certain modest voluptuousness was 
 remarkable in them ; the Indian bayaderes should 
 have something analogous to that mixture of indo- 
 lence and vivacity which forms the charm of the 
 Russian dance. This indolence and vivacity are 
 indicative of reverie and passion, two elements of 
 character which civilization has yet neither form- 
 ed nor subdued. I was struck with the mild gayety 
 of these female peasants, as I had been, in differ- 
 ent degrees, with that of the greater part of the 
 common people whh v/hom I had come in contact 
 in Russia. J can readily believe that they are ter- 
 rible when their passions are provoked; and as 
 they have no education, they know not how to 
 curb their violence. As another result of this 
 ignorance, they have few principles of morality, 
 and theft is very frequent in Russia as well as 
 hospitality ; they give as they take, according as 
 their imagination is acied upon by cunning or 
 generosity, both of which excite the admiration ot 
 this people. In this mode of life there is a little 
 
TEN years' exile. 223 
 
 resemblance to savages ; but it strikes me that at 
 present there are no European nations who have 
 much vigour but those who are what is called bar- 
 barous, in other words, unenlightened, or those ^ 
 who are free: but the nations which have only 
 acquired from civilization an indifference for this 
 or that yoke, provided their own fire-side is not 
 disturbed; those nations, which have only learned 
 from civilization the art of explaining power and 
 of reasoning servitude, are made to be vanquish- 
 ed. I frequently imagine to myself what may now 
 be the situation of the places which I have seen so 
 tranquil, of those amiable young girls, of those 
 long bearded peasants, who followed so peaceably 
 the lot which providence had traced for them; 
 they have perished or fled, for not one of them 
 entered into the service of the victor. 
 
 A thing worthy of remark, is the extent to which 
 public spirit is displayed in Russia. The reputa- 
 tion of invincible, which their multiplied successes 
 have given to this nation, the natural pride of the 
 nobility, the devotedness inherent in the character 
 of the people, the profound influence of religion^ 
 the hatred of foreigners, which Peter I. endeavour- 
 ed to destroy in order to enlighten and civilize his 
 country, but which is not less setded in the blood 
 of the Russians, and is occasionally roused, all 
 these causes combined make them a most energetic 
 people. Some bad anecdotes of the preceding 
 reigns, some Russians who have contracted debts 
 with the Parisian shopkeepers, and some hon-mots 
 of Diderot, have put it into the heads of the French, 
 that Russia consisted only of a corrupt court, mili- 
 tary chamberlains, and a people of slaves. This 
 is a great mistake. This nation, it is true, requires 
 a long examination to know it thoroughly, but in 
 
224 TEN tears' exile. 
 
 the circumstances in which I observed it, every thing 
 was salient, and a country can never be seen to 
 greater advantage than at a period of misfortune 
 and courage. It cannot be too often repeated, this 
 nation is composed of the most striking contrasts. 
 Perhaps the mixture of European civihzation and 
 of Asiatic character is the cause. 
 
 The manner of the Russians is so obliging, ,that 
 you might imagine yourself, the very first day, in- 
 timate with ihem, and probably at the end of ten 
 years you would not be so. The silence of a Rus- 
 sian is altogether extraordinary ; this silence is sole- 
 ly occasioned by what he takes a deep interest in. 
 In other respects, they talk as much as you will ; 
 but their conversation teaches you nothing but 
 their politeness ; it betrays neither their feelings 
 nor opinions. They have been frequently com- 
 pared to the French, in my opinion with the least 
 justice in the world. The flexibility of their organs 
 makes imitation in all things a matter of ease to 
 them ; they are English, French, or German, in 
 their manners, according to circumstances; but 
 they never cease to be Russians, that is to say, uni- 
 ting impetuosity and reserve, more capable of pas- 
 sion than friendship, more bold than delicate, more 
 devout than virtuous, more brave than chivalrous, 
 and so violent in their desires that nothing can stop 
 ihem, when their gratification is in question. They 
 are much- more hospitable than the French ; but 
 society does not with them, as with us, consist of a 
 circle of clever people of both sexes, who take plea- 
 sure in talking together. They meet, as we go to 
 a fete, to see a great deal of company, to have fruits 
 and rare productions from Asia or Europe ; to hear 
 music, to play ; in short, to receive vivid emotions 
 from external objects, rather than from the heart or 
 
TEN tears' exile. 225 
 
 understanding, both of which they reserve for ac- 
 tions and not for company. Besides, as they are 
 in general very igmorant, they find very little plea- 
 sure in serious conversation, and do not at all pique 
 themselves on shining by the wit they can exhibit 
 in it. Poetry, eloquence and literature are not yet 
 to be found in Russia; luxury, power, and courage 
 are the principal objects of pride and ambition ; all 
 other methods of acquiring distinction appear as 
 yet effeminate and vain to this nation 
 
 But the people are slaves, it will be said : what 
 character therefore can they be supposed to have ? 
 It is not certainly necessary for me to say that all 
 enlightened people wish to see the Russian people 
 freed from this state, and probably no one wishes it 
 more strongly than the Emperor Alexander: but 
 the Russian slavery has no resemblance in its ef- 
 fects to that of which we form the idea in the west; 
 it is not as under the feudal system, victors who 
 have imposed severe lavvs on the vanquished ; the 
 lies which connect the grandees with the people, 
 resemble rather what was called a family of slaves 
 among tho ancients, than the state of serfs among 
 the moderns. There is no middling class in Rus- 
 sia, which is a great drawback on the progress of 
 literature and the arts; for it is generally in that 
 class that knowledge is developed : but the want of 
 any intermedium between the nobility and the peo- 
 ple creates a greater affection between them both. 
 The distance between the two classes appears great- 
 er, because there are no steps between these two 
 extremities, which in fact border very nearly on 
 each other, not being separated by a middling class. 
 This is a state of social organization quite unfa- 
 vourable to the knowledge of the higher classes, but 
 not so to the happiness of the lower. Besides, 
 
 20* 
 
2,26 TEN YEA3EIS' EXILE- 
 
 where there Is no represeotative government, that 
 is to say, in countries where the sovereign still pro- 
 mulgates the law which he is to execute, men are 
 frequently more degraded by the very sacrifice of 
 their reason and character, than they are in this 
 vast empire, in which a (ew simple ideas of religion 
 and country serve to lead the great mass under the 
 guidance of a few heads. The immense extent of 
 the Russian empire also prevents the despotism of 
 the great from pressing heavily in detail upon the 
 people : and finally, above all, the religious and 
 miiicary spirit is so predominant in the nation, that 
 allowance may be made for a great many errors, 
 in favour of those two great sources of noble ac- 
 tions. A person of fine intellect said, that Russia 
 resembled the plays of Shakspeare, in which all 
 that is not faulty is sublime, and all that is not sub- 
 lime is faulty ; an observation of remarkable jus- 
 tice. But in the great crisis in which Russia was 
 placed when I passed through it, it was impossible 
 not to admire the energetic resistance, and resig- 
 nation to sacrifices, exhibited by that nation ; and 
 one could not almost dare, at the contemplation of 
 such virtues, to allow one's self even to notice what 
 at other times one would have censured. 
 
 CEiPTER XIV. 
 
 Moscow, 
 
 Gilded cupolas announced Moscow from afar; 
 liowever, as the surrounding country is on!}' a 
 plain, as well as the whole of Russia, you may ar- 
 rive in that great city without being struck with its 
 
TEN TEAES' EXXLE. 227 
 
 extent. It has been weJj said by some one, that 
 Moscow W3S rather a province than a city. In fact, 
 you there see huts, houses, palaces, a bazar as in the 
 East, churches, public buildings, pieces of water, 
 woods and parks. The variety of manners, and of 
 *the nations of which Russia is composed, are all 
 exhibited in this immense residence. Will you, I 
 was asked, buy some Cashmere shawls in the Tar- 
 tar quarter f Have you seen the Chinese town? 
 Asia and Europe are found united in this immense 
 city. There is more liberty enjoyed in it than at 
 Petersburg, where the court necessarily exercises 
 great influence. The great nobility settled at Mos^ 
 cow were not ambitious of places ; but they proved 
 their patriotism by munificent gifts to the state, 
 either for public establishments during peace, or as 
 aids during the war. The colossal fortunes of the 
 great Russian nobility are employed in making col- 
 lections of all kinds, and in enterprises of which 
 the Arabian Nights have given the models ; these 
 fortunes are also frequently lost by the unbridled 
 passions of thtir possessors. When I arrived at 
 Moscow, nothing was talked of but the sacrifices 
 that were made on account of the war. A young 
 Count de Momonoff raised a regiment for the state, 
 and would only serve in it as a sub-lieutenant ; a 
 Countess Orloff, amiable and wealthy in the Asia- 
 tic stylej gave the fourth of her income. As I was 
 passing before these palaces surrounded by gardens, 
 where space was thrown away in a city as elsewhere 
 in the middle of the country, I was told that the 
 possessor of this superb residence had given a thou- 
 sand peasants to the state : ?ind of that, two hun- 
 dred. I had some difficulty in accommodating my- 
 self to the expression, giving men^ but the peasants 
 
^8 TEN YEARS* EXILE, 
 
 themselves offered their services with ardour, an^ 
 their lords were in this w ar only their interpreters. 
 
 As soon as a Russian becomes a soldier, his 
 beard is cut off, and from that moment he is free. 
 A desire was felt that all those who might have 
 served in the militia should also be considered aai 
 free : but in that case the nation would have been 
 entirely so, for it rose almost en masse. Let us 
 hope that this so much desired emancipation may 
 be effected without violence : but in the mean time 
 one would wish to have the beards preserved, so 
 much strength and dignity do they add to the phy- 
 siognomy. The Russians with long beards never 
 pass a church without making the sign of the cross, 
 and their confidence in the visible images of religion 
 is very affecting. Their churches bear the mark 
 of that taste for luxury which they have from Asia : 
 you see in them only ornaments of gold, and silver, 
 and rubies. I was told that a Russian had pro- 
 posed to form an alphabet with precious stones, 
 and to write a Bible in that manner. He knew the 
 best manner of interesting the imaginations of the 
 Russians in what they read. This imagination 
 however has not as yet manifested itself either in 
 the fine arts or in poetJy. They reach a certain 
 point in all things very quickly, and do not go be- 
 yond that. Impulse makes them take the first 
 steps : but the second belong to reflection, and 
 these Russians, who have nothing in common with 
 the people of the North, are as yet very little capa- 
 ble of meditation. 
 
 Several of the palaces of Moscow are Of wood, 
 in order that they may be built quicker, and that 
 the natural inconstancy of the nation, in every 
 thmg unconnecied with country or religion, may 
 1)6 saiiafied by an easy change of residence. 
 
TEN years' exile. 220 
 
 Several of these fine edifices have been con- 
 structed for an entertainment 5 they were desti- 
 ned to add to the eclat of a day, and the rich 
 manner in which they were decorated has made 
 them last up to this period of universal destruc- 
 tion. A great number of houses are painted 
 green, y^^how, or rose colour, and are sculptured 
 in detail Uke dessert ornaments. 
 
 The citadel of the Kremlin, in which the em- 
 perors of Russia defended themselves against the 
 Tartars, is surrounded by a high wall, embattled 
 and flanked with turrets, which, by their odd 
 shapes, remind one of a Turkish minaret rather 
 than a fortress like those of the West of Europe. 
 But although the external character of the 
 buildings of the city be oriental, the impression 
 of Christianity was found in that multitude of 
 churches so much venerated, and which attracted 
 your notice at every step. One was reminded of 
 Rome in seeing Moscow ; certainly not from the 
 monuments being of the same style, but because 
 the mixture of solitary country and magnificent 
 palaces, the grandeur of the city and the infinite 
 number of its churches, give the Asiatic Rome 
 some points of resemblance to the European 
 Rome. 
 
 It was about the beginning of August, that I 
 was allowed to see the interior of the Kremlin ; 
 I got there by the same staircase which the em- 
 peror Alexander had ascended a few days pre- 
 ceding, surrounded by an immense people, who 
 loaded him with their blessings, and promised 
 him to defend his empire at all hazards. This 
 people has kept its word. The halls were first 
 thrown open to me in which the arms of the an* 
 cient warriors of Russia are contained j the ar- 
 
230 TEN years' exile. 
 
 senals of this kind, in other parts of Europe, sre 
 much more interesting. The Russians have 
 taken bo part in ihe times of chivajiy ; they never 
 mingled in the Crusades. Consianily at war «iih 
 the Tartars, Poles, and Turks, the military spirit 
 has been formed among thetn in the mids; ot ihe 
 atrocities of all kinds brought ia the tfairi of 
 Asiatic nations, and of the tyrants who goverued 
 Russia. It is not therefore the generous bravery 
 of the Bayards or ihe PercySj but the intrepidity 
 of a fanatical courage vi^hich has beem exhibited 
 in this country for several centuries. The Rus- 
 sians, in the relations of society which are so 
 new to them, are not distinguished by the spirit 
 of chivalry, such as the people of the West con- 
 ceive it ; but they have always shown themselves 
 terrible to their enemies. So many massacres 
 have taken place in the interior of Russia, up 
 to the reign of Peter the Great, and even later, 
 that the morality of the nation, and particufarly 
 that of the great nobihty, must have suffered se» 
 verely from them. These despotic governments, 
 whose sole restraint is the assassination of the 
 despot, overthrow all principles of honour and 
 duty in the minds of men : but the love of their 
 country and an attachment to their religious creed 
 have been maintained in their full strength, 
 amidst the wrecks of this bloody history, and 
 the nation which preserves such virtues may yet 
 astonish the v/orld. From the ancient arsenal I 
 was conducted into the apartments formerly oc- 
 cupied by the czars, and in which the robes are 
 pre-eived which they wore on the day of iheir 
 coronUioij. These apartments have no sort of 
 beauty, but inej agreed very well with the hard 
 life which the czars led and still lead. The 
 
TEN tears' exile* 231 
 
 greatest magnificence reigns in the palace of 
 Alexander ; but he himself sleeps upon the flooFj 
 and travels like a Cossack officer. 
 
 They exhibited in the Kremlin a divided throne, 
 which was filled at first by Peter I. and Ivan his 
 brother. The princess Sophia, their sister, placed 
 herself behind the seat of Ivan, and dictated to 
 him what to say; but this borrowed strength was 
 not able to cope long with the native strength of 
 Peter I. and he soon reigned alone. It is from 
 the period of his reign that the czars have ceased 
 to wear the Asiatic costume. The great wig of 
 the age of Louis XIV. came in with Peter I. and 
 without touching upon the admiration inspired by 
 this great man, one cannot help feeling the disa- 
 greeable contrast between the ferocity of his 
 genius and the ceremonious regularity of his 
 dress. Was he in the right in doing away as much 
 as he couid, oriental manners from the bosom of 
 his people ? was it right to fix his capital in the 
 north, and at the extremity of his empire ? These 
 are great questions which are not yet answered : 
 centuries only can afford the proper commentaries 
 upon such lofty ideas. 
 
 I ascended to the top of the cathedral steeple, 
 called Ivan Velikiy which commands a view of 
 the whole city ; from thence I saw the palace of 
 the czars, who conquered by their arms the 
 crowns of Casan, Astracan, and Siberia. I heard 
 the church music, in which the catholikos, prince 
 of Georgia, officiated in tne midst of the mhabi- 
 tants of Moscow, and formed a Christian meeting 
 between Asia and Europe. Fiiteen hundred 
 churches attested the devotion of the Muscovite 
 people. 
 
 The commercial establishments at Moscow had 
 
232 TEN years' exile. 
 
 quite an Asiatic character; men in turbans, and 
 others dressed in the different costumes of all the 
 people of the East, exhibited the rarest merchan- 
 dize : the furs of Siberia and the muslins of India 
 there offered all the enjoyments of luxury to 
 those great noblemen whose imagination is equal- 
 ly pleased with the sables of the Samoiedes and 
 with the rubies of the Persians. Here, the gar- 
 dens and the palace Razoumowski contained the 
 most beautiful collection of plants and minerals ; 
 there was the fine library of the Count de Bouter- 
 lin, which he had spent thirty years of his life in 
 collecting : among the books he possessed, there 
 were several which contained manuscript notes 
 in the hand-writing of Peter J. This great man 
 never imagined that the same European civiliza- 
 tion, of which he was so jealous, would come to 
 destroy the establishments for public instruction 
 which he had founded in the middle of his empire, 
 with a view to fix by study the impatient spirit of 
 the Russians, 
 
 Farther on, was the Foundling House, one of 
 the most affecting institutions of Europe ; hospi- 
 tals for all classes of society, might be remarked 
 in the different quarters of the city : finally, the 
 eye in its wanderings could rest upon nothing but 
 wealth or benevolence, upon edifices of luxury or 
 of charity ; upon churches or on palaces, which 
 diffused happiness or distinction upon a large por- 
 tion of the human race. You saw the windings 
 of the Moskwa, of that river, which, since the 
 last invasion by the Tartars, had never rolled 
 with blood in its waves : the day was delightful ; 
 the sun seemed to take a pleasure in shedding his 
 rays upon these glittering cupolas. I was reminded 
 of the old archbishop Plato, who had just written 
 
TEN years' exile. 233 
 
 a pastoral letter to the emperor Alexander, the 
 oriental style of which had extremely atfected 
 me : he sent the image of the Virgin from the 
 borders of Europe, to drive far from Asia the man 
 who wished to bear down upon the Russians with 
 the whole weight of the nations chained to his 
 steps. — For a moment the thought struck me, that 
 Napoleon might yet set his foot upon this same 
 tower from which I was admiring the city, which 
 his presence was about to extinguish ; for a mo- 
 ment I dreamed that he would glory in replacing, 
 in the palace of the czars, the chief of the great 
 horde, which had also once had possession of it: 
 but the sky was so beautiful, that I repelled the 
 apprehension. A month afterwards, this beauti- 
 ful city was in ashes, in order that it should be 
 said, that every country which had been in alli- 
 ance with this man, should be destroyed by the 
 fires which are at his disposal. But how glori- 
 ously have the Russians and their monarch re- 
 deemed this error ! The misery of Moscow may 
 be even said to have regenerated the empire, and 
 this religious city has perished like a martyr, the 
 shedding of whose blood gives new strength to 
 the brethren who survive him. 
 
 The famous Count Rostopchin, with whose 
 name the emperor's bulletins have been filled, 
 came to see me, and invited me to dine with him. 
 He had been minister for foreign affairs to Paul 
 I. ; his conversation had something original about 
 it, and you could easily perceive that his charac* 
 ter would show itself in a very strong manner, if 
 circumstances required it. The Countess Ros- 
 topchin was good enough to give me a book; 
 which she had written on the triumphs of religion, 
 ^he style and morality of which were very pure* 
 
 21 
 
234 TEN years' exile. 
 
 I went to visit her at her country-house, in the 
 interior of Moscow ; I was obliged to cross a 
 lake and a wood in order to reach it; it was to 
 this house, one of the most asjreeable residences 
 in Russia, that Count Rostopchin hinnself set fire, 
 on the approach of the French army. Certainly 
 an action of this kind was likely to excite a certain 
 kind of admiration, even in enemies. The em- 
 peror Napoleon has, notwithstanding, compared 
 Count Rostopchin to Marat, forgetting that the 
 governor of Moscow sacrificed his own interests, 
 while Marat set fire to the houses of others, which 
 certainly makes a considerable difference. The 
 only thing which Count Rostopchin could pro- 
 perly be reproached with, was his concealing too 
 long the bad news from the armies, either from 
 flattering himself, or believing it to be necessary 
 to flatter others. The English, with that admira- 
 ble rectitude which distinguishes all their actions, 
 publish as faithful an account of their reverses as 
 ihey do of their victories, and enthusiasm is with 
 them sustained by the truth, whatever that may 
 be. The Russians cannot yet reach that moral 
 perfection, which is the result of a free constitu- 
 tion. 
 
 No civilized nation has so much in common 
 with savages as the Russian people, and when 
 their nobility possess energy, they participate also 
 in the defects and good qualities of that unshack- 
 led nature. The expression of Diderot has been 
 greatly vaunted : The Russians are rotten before 
 they are ripe, I know nothing more false ; their 
 very vices, with some exceptions, are not those 
 of corruption, but of violence. The desires of 
 a Russian, said a very superior man, would blow 
 up a city ; fury and artifice take possession of 
 
TEN years' exile* 235 
 
 them by turns, when they wish to accomplish any 
 resolution, good or bad. Their nature is not at 
 all changed by the rapid civilization which was 
 given them by Peter I. ; it has as yet only formed 
 their manners; happily for them, they are always 
 what we call barbarians ; in other words, led by 
 an instinct frequently generous, but always invo- 
 luntary, which only admits of reflection in the 
 choice of the means, and not in the examination 
 of the end ; I say happily for them, not that I 
 wish to extol barbarism, but I designate by this 
 name a certain primitive energy which can alone 
 replace in nations the concentrated strength of 
 liberty, 
 
 I saw at Moscow the most enlightened men in 
 the career of science and literature ; but there, 
 as well as at Petersburg, the professors' chairs are 
 almost entirely filled with Germans. There is in 
 Russia a great scarcity of well-informed men in 
 any branch ; young people in general only go to 
 the University to be enabled sooner to enter into 
 the military profession. Civil employments in 
 Russia confer a rank corresponding to a grade in 
 the army 5 the spirit of the nation is turned en- 
 tirely toward war; in every thing else, in admi- 
 nistration, in political economy, in public instruc- 
 tion, Sic. the other nations of Europe have hitherto 
 borne away the palm from the Russians. They 
 are making attempts, however, in literature; the 
 softness c^nd brilliancy of the sounds of their lan- 
 guage are remarked even by those who do not 
 understand it; and it should be very well adapted 
 for poeiry and music. But the Russians have, 
 like so many other continental nations, the fault 
 of imitating the French literature, which, even 
 with ail its beauties, is only fit for the French 
 
236 TEN years' exile. 
 
 themselves. I think that the Russians ought ra- 
 ther to make their hterarj studies derive from the 
 Greeks than from the Latins. The characters of 
 the Russian alphabet, so similar to those of the 
 Greeks— the ancient communication of the Rus- 
 sians with the ByzEintine empire — their future des- 
 tinies, which wul probably lead them to the illus- 
 trious monumeuis of Athens and Sparta, all this 
 ought to turn the Russians to the study of Greek; 
 but it is above ail necessary that their writers 
 should draw their poetry from the deepest inspi- 
 ration of their own soul. Their works, up to 
 this time, have been composed, as one may say, 
 by the lips, and never can a nation so vehement 
 be stirred up by such shrill notes. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Road from Moscow to Petersburg, 
 
 I Q^iTiTTED Moscow with rcgrct : I stopped a 
 short time in a wood near the city, where on holi- 
 days the inhabitants go to dance, and celebrate the 
 sun. whose splendour is of such short duration, even 
 at Moscow. What is it then I see, in advancing 
 toward the North ? Even these eternal birch trees, 
 which weary you with their monotony, become 
 very rare, it is said, as you approach Archangel ; 
 they are preserved there, like orange trees in France. 
 The country from Moscow to Petersburg is at 
 first sandy, and afterwards all marsh : when it rains, 
 the ground becomes black, and the high road be- 
 comes undistinguishable. The houses of the pea- 
 sants, however, every where indicate a state of 
 
T£N YiiAIls' EXILE. 237 
 
 coriifort ; they are decorated with columns, and the 
 windows are surrounded with arabesques carved in 
 wood. Although it was sumnner when I passed 
 through this country, I already felt the threatening 
 winter which seemed to conceal itself behind the 
 clouds : of the fruits which were offered to me, the 
 flavour was bitter, because their ripening had been 
 too much hastened ; a rose excited emotion in me 
 as a recollection of our fine countries, and the 
 flowers themselves appeared to carry their heads 
 with less pride, as if the icy hand of the North had 
 been already prepared to pluck them. 
 
 I passed through Novogorod, which was, six 
 centuries ago, a republic associated with the Hanse 
 towns, and which has preserved for a long period 
 a spirit of republican independence. Persons have 
 been pleased to say that freedom was not reclaimed 
 in Europe before the last century ; on the contrary, 
 it is rather despotism, which is a modern invention. 
 Even in Russia the slavery of the peasants was only 
 introduced in the sixteenth century. Up to the 
 reign of Peter I. the form of all the ukases was : The 
 hoyars have advised, the czar will decree, Peter I. 
 although in many ways he has done infinite good 
 to Russia, humbled the grandees, and united in 
 himself the temporal and spiritual power, in order 
 to remove all obstacles to his designs. Richelieu 
 acted in the same manner in France ; Peter I. was 
 therefore a great admirer of his. It will be recol- 
 lected that on being shown his tomb at Paris, he 
 exclaimed, " Great man ! I would give one half of 
 my empire to learn from thee how to- govern the 
 other." The czar on this occasion was a great 
 deal too modest, for he had the advantage over 
 Richelieu of being a great warrior, and what is 
 more, the founder of the navy and commerce of 
 
 21* 
 
238 . TEN years' exile. 
 
 his country ; while Richelieu has done nothing but 
 govern tyrannically at home, and craftily abroad. 
 Bui to return to Novogorod. Ivan Vasilewitch 
 possessed himself of it in 1470, and destroyed its 
 liberties ; he removed from it to the Kremlin at 
 Moscow, the great bell called in Russian, Wetche- 
 voy kolokol, at the sound of which the citizens had 
 been accustomed to assemble at the market place, 
 to deliberate on public matters. With the loss of 
 liberty, Novogorod had the mortification to see the 
 gradual disappearance of its population, its com- 
 merce, and its wealth : so withering and destruc- 
 tive is the breath of arbitrary power says the best 
 historian of Russia. Even at the present day the 
 city of Novogorod presents an aspect of singular 
 melancholy ; a vast inclosure indicates that it was 
 formerly large and populous, and you see nothing 
 in it but scattered houses, the inhabitants of which 
 seem to be placed there like figures weeping over 
 the tombs. The same spectacle is now probably 
 offered by the beautiful city of Moscow ; but the 
 public spirit will rebuild it, as it has reconquer* 
 ed it. 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 St» Petersburg, 
 
 From Novogorod to Petersburg, you see scarcely 
 any thing but marshes, and you arrive in one of 
 the finest cities in the world, as if, with a magic 
 wand, an enchanter had made all the wonders of 
 Europe and Asia start up from the middle of the 
 deserts. The f&andation of Petersburg offers the 
 
TEN years' exile. 239 
 
 greatest proof of that ardour of Russian will, which 
 recognizes nothing as impossible : every thing in 
 the environs is humble ; the city is built upon a 
 marsh, ai:d even the marble rests on piles ; but you 
 forget when looking at these superb edifices, their 
 frail foundations, and cannot help meditating on 
 the miracle of so fine a city being built in so short 
 a time. This people which must always be described 
 by contrasts, possesses an unheard of perseverance 
 in its struggles with nature or with hostile armies. 
 Necessity always found the Russians patient and 
 invincible, but in the ordinary course of life they are 
 very unsteady. The same men, the same masters^ 
 do not long inspire them witli enthusiasm ; reflec- 
 tion alone can guarantee the duration of feelings and 
 opinions in the habitual quiet of life, and the Rus- 
 sians, like all people subject to despotism, are more 
 capable of dissimulation than reflection. 
 
 On my arrival at Petersburg, my first sentiment 
 was to return thanks to heaven for being on the 
 borders of the sea. I saw waving on the Neva the 
 English flag, the symbol of liberty, and I felt that 
 on committing myself to the ocean, I might return 
 under the immediate power of the Deity ; it is an 
 illusion which one cannot help entertaining, to be- 
 lieve one's self more under the hand of Providence^ 
 when delivered to the elements than when depend- 
 ing on men, and especially on that man who ap- 
 pears to be a revelation of the evil principle of this 
 earth. 
 
 Just facing the house which I inhabited at Pe- 
 tersburg was the statue of Peter I. ; he is represent- 
 ed on horseback climbing a steep mountain, in the 
 midst of serpents who try to stop the progress of 
 his horse. These serpents, it is true, are put there 
 to support the immense weight of the horse and his 
 
§40 T^N ITEARS' EXILE. 
 
 rider 5 but the idea is not a happy one : for in fact 
 it is not envy which a sovereign can have to dread ; 
 neither are his adulators his enemies : and Peter I. 
 especially had nothing to fear during his life, but 
 from Russians who regretted the ancient customs of 
 their country. The admiration of him, however, 
 which is still preserved, is the best proof of the good 
 he did to Russia : for despots have no flatterers a 
 hundred years after their death. On the pedestal 
 of the statue is written : . To Peter the Firsts Cathe- 
 rine the Second, This simple, yet proud, inscrip- 
 tion has the merit of truth. These two great mo- 
 narchs have elevated the Russian pride to the high- 
 est pitch ; and to teach a nation to regard itself as 
 invincible, is to make it such, at least within its own 
 territory : for conquest is a chance which probably 
 depends more upon the faults of the vanquished than 
 upon the genius of the victor. 
 
 It is said, and properly, that you cannot, at 
 Petersburg, say of a woman, that she is as old as 
 the streets, the streets themselves are so modern. 
 The buildings still possess a dazzling whiteness, and 
 at night when they are lighted by the moon, they 
 look like large white phantoms regarding, immovea- 
 ble- the course of the Neva, 1 know not what there 
 is particularly beautiful in this river, but the waves 
 of no other I had yet seen ever appeared to me so 
 limpid. A succession of granite quays, thirty versts 
 in length, borders its course, and this magnificent 
 labour of man is worthy of the transparent water 
 which it adorns. Had Peter I, directed similar un- 
 dertakings toward the South of his empire, he 
 would not have obtained what he wished, a navy ; 
 but he would perhaps have better conformed to the 
 character of his nation. The Russian inhabitants 
 of Petersburg have the look of a people of the 
 
TEN years' exile. 241 
 
 South condemned to live in the North, and making 
 every effort to struggle with a climate at variance 
 with their nature. The inhabitants of the North 
 are generally \ery indolent, and dread the cold, 
 precisely because he is their daily enemy. The 
 lower classes of the Russians have none of these 
 habits ; the coachmen wait for ten hours at the 
 gate, during winter, without complaining; they 
 sleep upon the snow, under their carriage, and 
 transport the manners of the Lazzaroni of Naples 
 to the sixtieth degree of latitude. You may see 
 them laying on the steps of staircases, like the Ger- 
 mans in their down ; sometimes they sleep stand- 
 ing, with their head reclined against the wall. By 
 turns indolent and impetuous, they give themselves 
 up alternately to sleep, or to the most fatiguing 
 employments. Some of them get drunk, in which 
 they differ from the people of the South, who are 
 very sober ; but the Russians are so also, and 
 to an extent hardly credible, when the difficulties of 
 war require it. 
 
 The great Russian noblemen also show, ia 
 their way, the tastes of inhabitants of the south. 
 You must go and see the different country houses 
 which they have built in the middle of an island 
 formed by the Neva, in the centre of Petersburg. 
 The plants of the south, the perfumes of the east, 
 and the divans of Asia, embellish these residen- 
 ces. By immense hot houses, in which the fruits 
 of all countries are ripened, an artificial climate 
 is created. The possessors of these palaces en- 
 deavour not to lose the least ray of sun while he 
 appears on their horizon; they treat him like a 
 friend who is about to take his departure, whom 
 they have known formerly in a more fortunate 
 country. 
 
242 TEN years' exile. 
 
 The day after my arrival. I went to dine with 
 one of the most considerable merchants of the city, 
 who exercised hospitality a la Riisse ; that is to 
 say, he placed a flag on the top of his house to sig- 
 nify that he dined at home, and this invitation 
 was sufficient for all his friends. He made us dine 
 in the open air, so much pleasure was felt from 
 these poor days of summer, of which a few yet 
 remained, to which we should have scarcely given 
 the name in the south of Europe. The garden 
 was very agreeable; it was embellished with trees 
 and flowers; but at four paces from the house the 
 deserts and the marshes were again to be seen. 
 In the environs of Petersburg, nature has the look 
 of an enemy who resumes his advantages, when 
 man ceases for a moment to struggle with him. 
 
 The next morning I repaired to the church of 
 our Lady of Casan, built by Paul I. on the model 
 of St. Peter's at Rome. The interior of this 
 church, decorated with a great number of columns 
 of granite, is exceedingly beautiful ; but the build- 
 ing itself displeases, precisely because it reminds 
 us of St. Peter's : and because it differs from it so 
 much the more, from the mere wish of imitation. 
 It is impossible to create in two years what cost 
 the labour of a century to the first artists of the 
 universe. The Russians would by rapidity escape 
 from time as they do from space: but time only 
 preserves what it has founded, and the fine arts, 
 of which inspiration seems the first source, cannot 
 nevertheless dispense with reflection. 
 
 From our Lady of Casan I went to the convent 
 of St. Alexander Newski, a place consecrated to 
 one of the sovereign heroes of Russia, who ex- 
 tended his conquests to the borders of the Neva. 
 The empress Elizabeth, daughter of Peter L had 
 
TEN years' exile. 243 
 
 a silver coffin made for him, upon which it is cus- 
 tomary to put a piece of money, as a pledge of 
 the vow which is recommended to the Saint. The 
 tomb of Suwarow is in this convent of Alexander 
 Newski, but his name is its only decoration ; it is 
 enough for him, but not for the Russians, to whom 
 he rendered such important services. This nation, 
 however, is so thoroughly military, that lofty 
 achievements of that description excite less asto- 
 nishment in it than other nations. The greatest 
 families of Russia have erected tombs to their 
 relatives in the cemetery which belongs to the 
 church of Newski, but none of these monuments 
 are worthy of remark ; they are not beautiful, re- 
 garded as objects of art, and no grand idea there 
 strikes the imagination. It is certain that the idea 
 of death produces little effect on the Russians ; 
 whether it is from courage, or from the inconstan- 
 cy of their impressions, long regrets are hardly ia 
 their character; they are more susceptible of su- 
 perstition than emotion : superstition attaches to 
 this life, and religion to another ; superstition is 
 allied to fatality, and religion to virtue ; it is from 
 the vivacity of earthly desires that we become 
 superstitious, and it is on the contrary by the sa- 
 crifice of these same desires, that we are rehgious. 
 M. de Romanzow, the minister of foreign affairs 
 in Russia, loaded me with the most amiable at- 
 tentions, and it was with regret that I considered 
 him as so implicated in the system of the emperor 
 Napoleon, that he must necessarily retire, like 
 the English ministers, when that system was 
 abandoned. Doubtless, in an absolute monarchy, 
 the will of the master explains every thing ; but 
 the dignity of a prime minister perhaps requires 
 that words of an opposite tendency should not 
 
244 TEN years' exile. 
 
 proceed from the same mouth. The sovereign 
 represents the slate, and the state may change its 
 system of politics whenever circumstances re- 
 quire it; but the minister is only a man, and a 
 man, on questions of this nature, ought to have 
 but one opinion in the course of his life. It is 
 impossible to have better manners than Count 
 Romanzow, or to receive strangers more nobly. 
 I was at his house when the English envoy, Lord 
 Tyrconnel, and Admiral Bentinck were announ- 
 ced, both of them men of remarkably fine ap- 
 pearance : they were the first English who had 
 reappeared on that continent, from which the 
 tyranny of one man had banished them. After 
 ten years of such fearful struggle, after ten years 
 during which victories and disasters had always 
 found the English true to the compass of their 
 politics, conscience, they returned at last into the 
 country which first emancipated itself from the 
 universal monarchy. Their accent, their simpli- 
 city, their fierte^ all awakened in the soul that 
 sentiment of truth in all things, which Napoleon 
 has discovered the art of obscuring in the eyes of 
 those who have only read his journals, and lis- 
 tened to his agents. 1 do not even know if Na- 
 poleon's adversaries on the continent, constantly 
 surrounded with a false opinion which never 
 ceases to deafen them, can venture to trust them- 
 selves without apprehension to their own feelings. 
 If I can judgie of them by myself, I know that 
 frequently, after having heard all the advices of 
 prudence or meanness with which one is over- 
 whelmed in the Bonapartist atmosphere, I scarce- 
 ly knew what to think of my own opinion ; my 
 blood forbid me to renounce it, but my reason was 
 jiot always sufficient to preserve me from so many 
 
TEN year's EXtLB. 245 
 
 Sophisms. It was therefore with the most lively 
 emotion that I heard once more the voice of that 
 England, with which we are almost always sure 
 to agree, when we endeavour to deserve our own 
 esteem, and that of persons of integrity. 
 
 The following day, I was invited by Count 
 Orloff to come and spend the dayin the island 
 which bears his name, and which is the most 
 agreeable of all those formed by the Neva ; oaks, 
 a rare production in this country, overshadow the 
 garden. The Count and Countess Orloff employ 
 their fortune in receiving strangers with equal fa- 
 cility and magnificence ; you are at your ease 
 with them, as in a country retreat, and you enjoy 
 there all the luxury of cities. Count Orloff is one 
 of the most learned noblemen to be met with in 
 Russia, and his love of his country bears a profound 
 character with which it is impossible to help being 
 affected. The first day I passed at this house, 
 peace had just been proclaimed with England ; it 
 was a Sunday ; and in his garden, which was on 
 that day opened to all comers, we saw a great num- 
 ber of these long-bearded merchants, who keep up 
 in Russia the costume of the Moujiks, that is to 
 say, of the peasants. A number of them collect- 
 ed to hear the delightful band of music of Count 
 Orloff; it gave us the English air of God save the 
 King, which is the song of liberty in a country, of 
 which the monarch rs its first guardian. We were 
 all much affected, and applauded this air, which 
 is become national for all Europeans 5 for there 
 are no longer but two kinds of men in Europe, 
 those who serve tyranny, .and those who have learn- 
 ed to hale it. Count Orloff went up to the Rus- 
 sian merchants, and told them that the peace be- 
 tween England and Russia was celebrating ; they 
 
 22 
 
24'6 TEN years' exile. 
 
 immediately made the sign of the cross, and thank- 
 ed heaven that the sea vvas once more opeii to 
 them. 
 
 The isle of Orloff is in the centre of all those which 
 the great noblemen of Petersburg, and ihe enipe- 
 ror and empress thenrsselves, have selected for iheir 
 residence during summer. Not far from it is the isle 
 of StrogonofF, the rich owner of which has brought 
 from Greece antiquities of great value. His house 
 was open every day during his lifcj and whoever 
 had once been presented might return when they 
 chose; he never invited any one to dinner or sup- 
 per on a particular day; it was understood that 
 once admitted, you were always welcome; he fre- 
 quently knew not half the persons who dined at his 
 table : but this luxurious hospitality pleased him 
 like any other kind of magnificence. The same 
 practice prevails in many other houses at Peters- 
 burg; it is natural to conclude from that, that 
 what we call in France the pleasures of conversa- 
 tion cannot be there met with : the company is 
 much too numerous to allow a conversation of any 
 interest even to be kept up in it. In the best socie- 
 ty the most perfect good manners prevail, but there 
 is neither sufficient information among the nobility, 
 nor sufficient confidence among persons living 
 habitually under the influence of a despotic court 
 and government, to allow them to know any thing 
 of the charms of intimacy. 
 
 The greater part of the great noblemen of 
 Russia express themselves with so much elegance 
 and propriety, that one frequently deceives one's 
 self at the outset about the degree of wit and ac- 
 quirements of those with whom you are conversing. 
 The debut is almost always that of a gentleman or 
 lady of fine understanding : but sometimes also, in 
 
TEN years' exile. ' 247 
 
 the long run, you discover nothing but the debut. 
 They are not accustomed in Russia to speak from 
 the bottom of their heart or understanding ; they 
 had in former times such fear of their masters, that 
 they have not yet been able to accustom themselves 
 to that wise freedom, for which they are indebted 
 to the character of Alexander. 
 
 Some Russian gentlemen have tried to distin- 
 guish themselves in literature, and have given 
 proofs of considerable talent in this career ; but 
 knowledge is not yet sufficiently diffused to create 
 a public judgment formed by individual opinions. 
 The character of the Russians is too passionate to 
 allow them to like ideas in the least degree abstract ; 
 it fs by facts only that they are amused ; they have 
 not yet had time or inclination to reduce facts to 
 general ideas. In addition, every significant idea 
 is always more or less dangerous, in the midst of a 
 court where mutual observation, and more frequent- 
 ly envy, are the predominant feelings. 
 
 The silence of the East is here transformed into 
 amiable words, but which generally never pene- 
 trate beyond the surface. One feels pleasure for 
 a moment in this brilliant atmosphere, which is an 
 agreeable dissipation of life ; but in the long run 
 no information is acquired in it, no faculties are 
 developed in it, and men who pass their life in this 
 manner never acquire any capacity for study or 
 business. Far otherwise was it with the society 
 of Paris 5 there we have seen men whose characters 
 have been entirely formed by the lively or serious 
 conversation to which the intercourse between the 
 nobility and men of letters gave birth. 
 
GHAPTER XVIL 
 
 The Imperial Family » 
 
 I HAD at last the pleasure of seeing that mon^ 
 arch, equally absolute by law and custom, and 
 so Kioderate from his own disposition. The 
 empress Elizabeth, to whom I was at first 
 presented, appeared to me the tutelary angel of 
 Russia. Her manners are extremely reserved, 
 but what she says is full of life, and it is from the 
 focus of all generous ideas that her sentiments 
 and opinions have derived strength and warmth. 
 While I listened to her, I was affected by some- 
 thing inexpressible, which did not proceed from 
 her grandeur, but from the harmony of her soul ; 
 80 long was it since I had known an instance of 
 concord between power and vittue. As 1 was 
 conversing with the empress, the door opened, 
 and the emperor Alexander did me the honour to 
 come and talk to me. What first struck me in 
 him was such an expression of goodness and dig- 
 nity, that the two qualities appear inseparable, 
 and in him to form only one, I was also very 
 touch affected with the noble simplicity with 
 which he entered upon the great interests of Eu- 
 rope, almost among the first words he addressed 
 to me. I have always regarded, as a proof of 
 mediocrity, that apprehension of treating serious 
 questions, with which the best part of the sove- 
 reigns of Europe have been inspired ; they are 
 afraid to pronounce a word to which any real 
 meaning can be attached. The emperor Alex- 
 ander, on the contrary, conversed with me as 
 statesmen in England would have done, who 
 place their strength in themselves, and not in the 
 
TEN years' EXrLE. 249 
 
 barriers with which they are surrounded. The 
 emperor Alexander, whom Napoleon has endea- 
 voured to misrepresent, is a man of remarkable 
 understanding and information, and I do not be- 
 lieve that in the whole extent of his empire he 
 could find a minister better versed than himself in 
 all that belongs to the judgment and direction of 
 public affairs. He did not disguise from me hi^ 
 regret for the admiration to which he had surren- 
 dered himself in his intercourse with Napoleon. 
 His grandfather had, in the same way, entertained 
 a great enthusiasm for Frederic II. In these sort 
 of illusions, produced by an extraordinary cha- 
 racter, there is always a generous motive, what- 
 ever may be the errors that result from it. The 
 emperor Alexander, however, described with 
 great sagacity the effect produced upon him by 
 these conversations with Bonaparte, in which he 
 said the most opposite things, as if one must be 
 astonished at each, without thinking of their 
 being contradictory. He related (o me, also, the 
 lessons a la Machiavel whi(?h Napoleon had 
 thought proper to give him : " You see," said 
 he, *' 1 am careful to keep my ministers and ge- 
 nerals at variance among themselves, in order 
 that each may reveal to me the faults of the 
 other ; I keep up around me a continual jealousy 
 by the manner I treat those who are about me ; 
 one day one thinks himself the favourite, the 
 next day another, so that no one is ever certain 
 of my favour." What a vulgar and vicious the- 
 ory ! And will there never arise a man superior 
 to this man, who will demonstrate its inutility ? 
 That which is wanting to the sacred cause of mo- 
 rality, is, that it should contribute in a very s^tri- 
 king manner to great success in this world ; he 
 
 22* 
 
250 TEN years' EXILE* 
 
 who fee]s~all the dignity of this cause win sacri- 
 fice with pleasure every success: but it is still 
 necessary to teach those presumptuous persons 
 who imagine they discover depth of thinking in 
 the vices of the soul, that if in immorality there 
 is sometimes wit, in virtue there is genius. In 
 obtaining the conviction of the good faith of the 
 EnDperor Alexander, in his relations with Napo- 
 leon. I was at the same time persuaded that he 
 would not imitate the example of the unfortunate 
 sovereigns of Germany, and would sign no peace 
 with him who is equally the enemy of people 
 and kings. A noble soul cannot be twice de- 
 ceived by the same person. Alexander gives and 
 withdraws his confidence with the greatest re- 
 flection. His youth and personal advantages 
 have alone, at the beginning of his reign, made 
 him be suspected of levity ; but he is serious, 
 even as much so as a man may be who has 
 known misfortune. Alexander expressed to 
 me his regret at not being a great captain : I 
 replied to this lioble modesty, that a sovereign 
 was much more rare than a general, and that the 
 support of the public feelings of hfs people, by 
 his example, was achieving the greatest victory, 
 and the first of the kind, which had ever been 
 gained. The emperor talked to me with enthu- 
 siasm of his nation, and of all that it was capable 
 of becoming. He expressed to me the desire, which 
 all the world knows him to entertain, of ame- 
 liorating the slate of the peasants still subject to 
 slavery. " Sire,'* said I to him, *' your charac- 
 ter is a constitution for your empire, and your 
 conscience is the guarantee of it." " Were 
 that even the case," replied he, " I should only 
 
TEN y^EARS' EXILE. ^bt 
 
 be a fortunate accident.''* Noble words ! the 
 first of the kind, I believe, which an absolute 
 monarch ever pronounced I How many virtues 
 it requires, in a despot, properly to estimate des- 
 potism! and how many virtues, also, never to 
 abuse it, when the nation which he governs is al- 
 most astonished at such signal moderation. 
 
 At Petersburg especially, the great nobility 
 have less liberality in their principles than the 
 emperor himself* Accustomed to be the absolute 
 masters of their peasants, they wish the monarch, 
 in his turn, to be omnipotent, for the purpose of 
 maintaining the hierarchy of despotism. The 
 state of citizens does not yet exist in Russia ; it 
 begins, however, to be forming; the sons of the 
 clergy, those of the merchants, and some pea- 
 sants who have obtained of their lords the liberty 
 of becoming artists, may be considered as a third 
 order in the state. The Russian nobility besides 
 bears no resemblance to that of Germany or 
 France ; a man becomes noble in Russia, as soon 
 as he obtains rank in the army. No doubt the 
 great families, such as the Narischkins, the Dol- 
 goroukis, the Gallitzins, &;c. will always hold the 
 lirst rank in the empire; bat it is not less true, 
 that the advantages of the aristocracy belong to 
 men whom the monarch's pleasure has made no- 
 ble in a day ; and the whole ambition of the citi- 
 zens is, in consequence, to have their sons made 
 officers, in order that they may belong to the pri= 
 vileged class. The result of this is, that young 
 men's education is finished at fifteen years of 
 
 * This expression has been already quoted in the third vo- 
 lume of the Considerations on the French Revolution ; but it de- 
 serves to be rejieo ted. All this, however, it must be remembered, 
 •was written at the end of 18J2, {JVote by the Editor.) 
 
252 TEN years' exile 
 
 age ; they are hurried into the army as soon as 
 possible, and every thing else is neglected. This 
 is not the time certainly to blame an order of 
 things which has produced so noble a resistance ; 
 were tranquillity restored, it might be truly said, 
 that under civil considerations, there are great 
 deficiencies in the internal administration of Rus- 
 sia. Energy and grandeur exist in the nation ; 
 but order and knowledge are still frequently want- 
 ing, both in the government, and in the private 
 conduct of individuals. Peter I. by making Rus- 
 sia European, certainly bestowed upon her great 
 advantages ; but these advantages he more than 
 counter-balanced by the establishment of a des- 
 potism prepared by his father, and consoHdated 
 by him ; Catherine II., on the contrary, tempered 
 the use of absolute power, of which she was not 
 the author. If the political state of Europe should 
 ever be restored to peace ; in other words, if one 
 man were no longer the dispenser of evil to the 
 world, we should see Alexander solely occupied 
 with the improvement of his country, and in at- 
 tempting to establish laws which would guarantee 
 to it that happiness, of which the duration is as 
 yet only secured for the life of its present ruler. 
 
 From the emperor's I went to his respectable 
 mother's, that princess to whom calumny has never 
 been able to impute a sentiment unconnected with 
 the happiness of her husband, her children, or the 
 fansily of unfortunate persons of whom she is the 
 protectress. I shall relate, farther on, in what man- 
 ner she governs that empire of charity, which she 
 exercises in the midst of the omnipotent empire of 
 her son. She lives in the palace of the Taurida, 
 and to get to her apartments you have to cross a 
 hall, built by prince Potemkin, of incomparable 
 
TEN years' exile. 21531 
 
 grandeur ; a winter garden occupies a part of it, 
 and you see the trees and plants through the pillars 
 which surround the middle inclosure. Every thing 
 in this residence is colossal ; the conceptions of the 
 prince who built it were fantastically gigantic. He 
 had towns built in the Crimea, solely that the em- 
 press might see them on her passage ; he ordered 
 the assault of a fortress, to please a beautiful wo- 
 man, the princess Dolgorouki, who had disdained 
 his suit. The favour of his Sovereign mistress creat- 
 ed him such as he showed himself ; but there is re- 
 markable, notwithstanding, in the characters of 
 most of the great men of Russia, such as Menzikoff, 
 Suwarow, Peter I. himself, and in yet older times 
 Ivan Vasilievitch, something fantastical, violent, and 
 ironical combined. Wit was with them rather an 
 arm than an enjoyment, and it was by the imagina*- 
 tion that they were led. Generosity, barbarity, un- 
 bridled passions, and religious superstition, all met 
 in the same character. Even now civilization in 
 Russia has not penetrated beyond the surface, even 
 among the great nobility ; externally they imitate 
 other nations, but all are Russians at heart, and in 
 that consists their strength and originality, the love 
 of country being, next to that of God, the noblest 
 sentiment which men can feel. That country must 
 certainly be exceedingly different from those whick 
 surround it to inspire a decided attachment ; na- 
 tions which are confounded with one another by 
 slight shades of difference, or which are divided in- 
 to several separate states, never devote themselves 
 with real passion to the conventional association to 
 which they have attached the name of country. 
 
CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 Manners of the Great Russian Kohility, 
 
 I WENT to spend a day at the country seat of 
 prince Narischkin, great chamberlain of the court, 
 an amiable, easy and polished man, but who cannot 
 exist without a fete ; it is at his house that you ob- 
 tain a correct notion of that vivacity in their tastes, 
 which explains the defects and qualities of the Rus- 
 sians. The house ofM. de Narischkin is always 
 open, and if there happen to be only twenty persons 
 at his country seat, he begins to be weary of this 
 philosophical retreat. Polite to strangers, always 
 in movement, and yet perfectly capable of the re- 
 flection required to stand well at court : greedy of 
 the enjoyments of imagination, but placing these 
 only in things and not in books ; impatient every 
 where but at court, witty when it is to his advantage 
 to be so, magnificent rather than ambitious, and 
 seeking in every thing for a certain Asiatic gran- 
 deur, in which fortune and rank are more conspicu- 
 ous than personal advantages. His country seat is 
 as agreeable as it is possible for a place of the kind 
 to be, created by the hand of man : all the sur- 
 rounding country is marshy and barren ; so as to 
 make this residence a perfect Oasis. On ascending 
 the terrace, you see the guiph of Finland, and per- 
 ceive in the distance, the palace which Peter I. built 
 upon its borders ; but the space which separates it 
 from the sea and the palace is almost a waste, and 
 tbs park of M. Narischkin alone charms the eye of 
 the observer. We dined in the house of the Molda- 
 vians, that is to say, in a saloon built according to 
 the taste of theee people ; it v»'as arranged so as to 
 protect from the heat of the sun, a precaution rather 
 
TEN years' exile. 255 
 
 needless in Russia. However, the imagination is 
 io\ presaged to that degree witfi the idea that yoo are 
 living Htnong a people who have only cocae into 
 the North by accident, that it appears natural to 
 find there the customs ot die South, as if the Rus- 
 sians were some day or other to bring to Peters- 
 burg the climate of their old country, i'he table 
 was covered with the fruits of all countries, accord- 
 ing iQ the custom taken from the East, of only let- 
 ting the fruits appear, while a crowd of servants 
 carried round to each guest the dishes of meat and 
 vegetables they required. 
 
 We were entertained with a concert of that 
 horn music which is pecuHar to Russia, and of 
 which mention has been often made. Of twenty 
 musicians, each plays only one and the same 
 note, every time it returns ; each of these men, 
 in consequence, bears the name of the note which 
 he is employed to execute. When one of them 
 is seen going along, people say., that is the sol, 
 that is the mi, or that is the re of M. Narischkin# 
 The horns go on increasing from rank to rank, 
 and this music has been by some one called, very 
 properly, a living organ. At a distance the effect 
 is very fine ; the exactness, and the purity of the 
 harmony, excite the most noble ideas; but when 
 you come near to these poor performers, who are 
 there Hke pipes, yielding only one sound, and 
 quite unable to participate by their own emotions 
 in the effect produced, the pleasure dies away; 
 one does not like to see the fine arts transformed 
 into mechanical arts, to be acquired by dint of 
 strength-like exercise. 
 
 Some of the inhabitants of the Ukraine, dress- 
 ed in scarlet, came afterwards to sing to us sonae 
 of the airs of their country, which are singularly 
 
256 TEN years' exile. 
 
 pleasing ; they are sometimes gay, and sometimes 
 melancholy, and soauHimes holh united. These 
 airs sometimes break off abruptly in the midst of 
 the melody, as if the imagination of the people 
 was tired before finishing what at first pleased 
 them, or found it more piquant to suspend the 
 charm at the very moment its influence was 
 greatest. It is thus that the Sultana of the Ara- 
 bian Nights always breaks off her story when its 
 interest is at the height. 
 
 M. Narischkin, in the midst of this variety of 
 pleasures, proposed to us to drink a toast to the 
 united arms of the Russians and English, and gave 
 at the same moment a signal to his artillery, 
 which gave almost as loud a salute as that of a 
 sovereign. The inebriety of hope seized all the 
 guests; as for me, I felt myself bathed in tears. 
 Was it possible that a foreign tyrant should re- 
 duce me to wish that the French should be beat? 
 I wish, said I, then, for the fall of him, who is 
 equally the oppressor of France and Europe; for 
 the true French will triumph if he is repulsed. 
 The English and the Russian guests, and particu- 
 larly M. Narischkin, approved my idea, and the 
 name of France, formerly like that of Armida in 
 its effects, was once more heard with kindness by 
 the knights of the east, and of the sea, who were 
 going tc fight against her. 
 
 Caimucks with flat features are still hrought up 
 in the houses of the Russian nobility, as if to 
 preserve a specimen of those Tartars who were 
 conquered by the Sclavonians. In the palace of 
 Narischkin, there were two or three of these half- 
 savage Caimucks running about. They are agree- 
 ble enough in their infancy, but at the age of 
 twenty they lose all the charms of youth : obsti- 
 
TEN year's klxile. ^57 
 
 nate, though slaves, they amuse their masters by 
 their resistance, like a squirrel fighting with the 
 wires of his cage. It was painful to look at this 
 specimen of the human race debased ; I thought 
 I saw, in the midst of all the pomp of luxury, an 
 image of what man may become when he derives 
 no dignity either from religion or the laws, and 
 this spectacle was calculated to humble the pride 
 whichjthe enjoyments of splendour may inspire. 
 
 Long carriages for promenade, drawn by the 
 most beautiful horses, conducted us, after dinner, 
 into the park. It was now the end of August, 
 but the sun was pale, the grass of an almost artifi- 
 cial green, because it was only kept up by unre- 
 mitting attention. The flowers themselves ap- 
 peared to be an aristocratic enjoyment, so much 
 expense was required to have them. No warbling 
 of birds was heard in the woods, they did not trust 
 themselves to this summer of a moment ; neither 
 were any cattle observable in the meadows ; one 
 could not dare to give them plants which had re- 
 quired such pains to cultivate. The water scarce- 
 ly flowed, and only by the help of machines 
 which brought it into the gardens, where the 
 whole of this nature had the air of being a festi- 
 val decoration, which would disappear when the 
 guests retired. Our caleches stopped in front of 
 a building in the garden, which represented a 
 Tartar camp ; there, all the musicians united, 
 began a new concert ; the noise of horns and 
 cymbals quite intoxicated the ideas. The better 
 to complete this entire banishment of thinking, 
 we had an imitation, during summer, of their 
 sledges, the rapidity of which consoles the Rus- 
 sians for their winter; we rolled upon boards, 
 fiom the top of a mountain in wood, with the 
 
 23 
 
258 TEN years' exile. 
 
 quickness of lightning. This amusement charm- 
 ed the ladies as nnuch as the gentlemen, and al- 
 lowed them to participate a little in those plea- 
 sures of war which consist in the emotion of dan- 
 ger, and in the animated promptitude of all the 
 movements. Thus passed the time ; for every 
 day saw a renewal of what appeared to me to be 
 a fete. With some slight differences, the greater 
 part of the great houses of Petersburg lead the 
 same kind of life ; it is impossible, as one may 
 readily see, for any kind of continued conversa- 
 tion to be kept up in it, and learning is of no uti- 
 lity in this kind of society ; but where so much 
 is done only from the desire of collecting in one's 
 bouse a great multitude of persons, entertain- 
 ments are after all the only means of preventing 
 the ennui which a crowd in the saloons always 
 creates. 
 
 In the midst of all this noise, is there any room 
 for love? will be asked by the Italian ladies, who 
 scarcely know any other interest in society than 
 the pleasui^ of seeing the person by whom they 
 wish to be beloved. I passed too short a time at 
 Petersburgh to obtain correct ideas of the interior 
 arrangements of families ; it appeared to me, how^ 
 ever, that on one hand, there was more domestic 
 virtue than was said to exist ; but that on the other 
 hand, sentimental love was very rarely known. 
 The customs of Asia, which meet you at every step, 
 prevent the females from interfering with the domes- 
 tic cares of their establishment : all these are direct- 
 ed by the husband, and the wife only decorates 
 herself with his gifts, and receives the persons whom 
 he invites. The respect for morality is already 
 much greater than it was at Petersburgh in the 
 time of those emperors and empresses who depraved 
 
TEN years' EXILE. 259 
 
 opinion by their example. The two present em- 
 presses have made those virtues beloved, of which 
 ihey are themselves the models. In this respect, 
 however, as in a great many others, the principles 
 of morality are not properly fixed in the minds of 
 the Russians. The ascendancy of the master has 
 always been so great over them, that from one 
 reign to another, all maxims upon all subjects may 
 be chuns^ed. The Russians, both men and women, 
 generally carry into love their characteristic im- 
 petuosity, but their disposition to change makes 
 them also easily renounce tlie objects of their 
 choice. A certain irregularity in the imagination, 
 does not allow them to find happiness in what is 
 durable. The cultivation of the understanding, 
 which multiplies sentiment by poetry and the fine 
 arts, is very rare among the Russians, and with 
 these fantastic and vehement dispositions, love is 
 rather a fete or a delirium than a profound and 
 reflected affection. Good company in Russia is 
 therefore a perpetual vortex, and perhaps the ex- 
 treme prudence to which a despotic government 
 accustoms people, may be the cause that the Rus- 
 sians are charmed at not being led by the entice- 
 ment of conversation, to speak upon subjects which 
 may lead to any consequence whatever. To this 
 reserve, which, under different reigns, has been but 
 too necessary to them, we must attribute the want 
 of truth of which they are accused. The refine- 
 ments of civilization in all countries alter the sin- 
 cerity of character, but when a sovereign pos- 
 sesses the unlimited power of exile, imprisonment, 
 sending to Siberia, &c. &;c. it is something too 
 strong for human nature. We may meet with 
 men independent enough to disdain favour, but 
 heroism is required to brave persecution, and 
 heroism cannot be an universal quality. 
 
2^0 TEN years' exile. 
 
 None of these reflections, we know, apply to the 
 present government, its head being, as emperor, 
 perfectly just, and as a man, singularly generous. 
 But the subjects preserve the defects of slavery 
 long after the sovereign himself would wish to re- 
 move them. We have seen, however, during the 
 continuance of this war, how much virtue has been 
 shown by Russians of all ranks, not even except- 
 ing the courtiers. While I was at Petersburgh, 
 scarcely any young men were to be seen in compa- 
 ny : all had gone to the army. Married men, only 
 sons, noblemen of immense fortunes, were serving 
 in the capacity of simple volunteers, and the 
 sight of their estates and houses ravaged, has never 
 made them think of their losses in any other 
 light than as motives of revenge, but never 
 of capitulating with the enemy. Such quali- 
 ties more than counterbalance all the abuses, dis- 
 orders, and misfortunes, which an administration 
 still vicious, a civilization yet new, aad despotic 
 iiistitutions, may have introduced. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Establishments for Public Education* — Institute of 
 Saint Catherine, 
 
 We went to see the cabinet of natural history, 
 which is remarkable by the productions of Siberia 
 which it contains. The furs of that country have 
 excited the cupidity of the Russians, as the Mexi- 
 can gold mines did that of the Spaniards. There 
 was a time in Russia, when the current money 
 consisted of sable and squirrel skins, so universal 
 was the dfsire of being provided with the means 
 of guarding against the cold. The most curious 
 thing in the museum at Petersburg, is a rich col- 
 lection of bones of antediluvian animals, and par- 
 ticularly the remains of a gigantic mammoth, 
 which have been found almost whole among the 
 ices of Siberia. It appears from geological obser- 
 vations, that the world has a much older history 
 than that which we know: infinity is fearful in all 
 things. At present, the inhabitants, and even the 
 animals of this extremity of the inhabited globe 
 are almost penetrated with the cold, which makes 
 nature expire, a few leagues beyond their country; 
 the colour of the animals is confounded with that 
 of the snow, and the earth seems to be lost in the 
 ices and fogs which terminate this lower creation, 
 I was struck with the countenances of the inhabi- 
 tants of Kamstchatka, which are perfectly imita- 
 ted in the museum ai Petersburg. The priests of 
 that country, called Shamanes, are a kind of im- 
 provisators J they wear, t>ver their tunic of bark, 
 
 23^ 
 
26*2 5EN years' exile. 
 
 a sort of steel net, to which some pieces of iron 
 are attached, the noise of which is very great 
 when the improvisator is agitated; he has mo- 
 ments of inspiration which a good deal resemble 
 nervous attacks, and it is rather by sorcery, than 
 talent, that he makes an irr pression on the people. 
 The imagination, in such dreary countries, is 
 scarcely remarkable but by fear, and the earth 
 herself appears to repel man by the terror with 
 which she inspires him. 
 
 I afterwards saw th^ citadel, in the circumfe- 
 rence of which i** the church where the coffins of 
 all the SGveregns, from the time of Peter the Great, 
 are deposited : these coffins are not shut up in mo- 
 nun.en!s, they are exposed in the same way as 
 they were on the day of their funeral, and one 
 might fancy one's self quite close to these corpses, 
 from which a single board appears to separate us. 
 When Paul I. came to the throne, he caused the 
 remains of his father, Peter I. to be crowned, who 
 not having received that honour during his life, 
 could not be placed in the citadel. By the orders 
 ef Paul L the ceremonial of interment for both his 
 father and mother was recommenced. Both were 
 exposed afresh : four chamberlains once more 
 kept guard over the bodies, as if they had only 
 died the day before; and (he two coffins are now 
 placed by the side of each oiher, compelled to live 
 in peace under the empire of death. Among the 
 sovereigns who have swayed the despotic power 
 transmitted to them by Peter I. there are several 
 whom a bloody conspiracy has cast from the 
 ihroue. The same courtiers, who have not the 
 strength to teU their master the least truth, know 
 how to conspire against him. and the deepest dis- 
 simulation necesgarily accompanies ibis kind of 
 
TEN years' exile. 263 
 
 political revolutioa; for they must load, with the 
 appearance of rpspect, the person whom they wish 
 to assassinate. And yet, what would become of a 
 country governed despotically, if a lawless tyrant 
 had not to dread the edge of the poniard ? Horri- 
 ble alternative, and which is sufficient to show the 
 nature of :he instituuons where crime must be 
 reckoned as the balance of power. 
 
 I paid homage to Catherine II. by going to her 
 country residence, Czarskozelo. This palace and 
 garden are arranged with great art and magnifi- 
 cence ; but the air was already very cnld, although 
 we were only at the first of September, and it was 
 a singular contrast to see the flowers of the South 
 agitated by the winds of the North. All the traits 
 which have been collected of Catherine II. pene- 
 trate one with admiration for her as a sovereign ; 
 and I know not whether the Russians are not more 
 indebted to her than to Peter I. for that fortunate 
 persuasion of their invincibility which has so much 
 contributed to their victories. The charm of a 
 female tempered the action of power, and mingled 
 chivalrous gallantry with the successes, the honaage 
 of which was paid to her. Catherine 11. had, in 
 the highest degree, the good sense of government ; 
 a more brilliant understanding than hers would 
 have less resembled genius, and her lofty reason 
 inspired profound respect in the Russians, who 
 distrust their own imagination, and wish to have it 
 directed with wisdom. Close to Czarskozelo is 
 the palace of Paul I., a charming residence, as 
 the empress dowager and her daughters have there 
 placed the chefs d'ffiuvres of their talents and good 
 taste. This place reminds us of that admirable 
 mother and her daughters, whom nothing has beep 
 able to turn aside from their domestic virtues. 
 
264 TEN tears' exile. 
 
 I allowed myself lo indulge in the pleasure ex- 
 cited by the novel objects of my dally visits, and 
 I know not bow, I had quite forgotten the war on 
 which the fate of Europe depended; the pleasure 
 I had in hearing expressed by all the world, the 
 sentiments which I had so long stifled in ray soul, 
 was so strong, that it appeared to me there was 
 nothing more to dread, and that such truths were 
 omnipotent as soon as they were known. Never- 
 theless, a succession of reverses had taken place, 
 without the public being informed of them. A 
 man of wit said, that all was mystery at Peters- 
 burg, although nothing was a secret ; and ia fact 
 the truth was discovered in the end ; but the habit 
 of silence is such among the Russian courtiers, 
 that they dissemble the day before what will be 
 notorious the next, and are always unwilling to 
 reveal what they know. A stranger told me that 
 Smolensk was taken, and Moscow in the greatest 
 danger. Discouragement immediately seized me. 
 I fancied that I already saw a repetition of the 
 deplorable history of the Austrian and Prussian 
 treaties of peace, the result of the conquest of their 
 capitals. This was the third time the same game 
 had been played, and it might again succeed. I 
 did not perceive the public spirit; the apparent 
 inconsistency of the impressions of the Russians 
 prevented me from observing it Despondency 
 had frozen all minds, ar»d 1 w as ignorant, that 
 with these men of vehement impressions, this de- 
 spondency is the forerunner of a dreadful awaken- 
 ing. In the same way, you remark in the common 
 people an inconceivable idleness up to the very 
 moment when their activity is roused ; then it 
 knows no obstacle, dreads no danger, and seems 
 to triumph equally over the elements and men. 
 
TEN years' EXitE. 26^ 
 
 I had understood that the internal administra- 
 tion, that of war as well as of justice, frequently 
 fell into the most venal hands, and that by the 
 dilapidations which the subaltern agents allowed 
 themselves, it was impossible to form any just idea 
 either of the number of troops, or of the measures 
 taken to provision them ; for lying and theft are 
 inseparable, and in a country of such recent civi- 
 lization, the intermediate class have neither the 
 simplicity of the peasantrj', nor the grandeur of 
 the boyars; and no public opinion yet exists to 
 keep in check this third class, whose existence is 
 so recent, and which has lost the naivete of popu- 
 lar faith without having acquired the point of ho- 
 nour. A display of jealous feeling was also re- 
 marked between the military commanders. It is 
 in the very nature of a despotic government to 
 create, even in spite of itself, jealousy in those who 
 surround it : the will of one man being able to 
 change entirely the fortune of every individual, 
 fear and hope have too much scope not to be con- 
 stantly agitating this jealousy, which is also very 
 much excited by another feeling, the hatred of fo- 
 reigners. The general who commanded the Rus- 
 sian army. General Barclay de Tolly, althoagh 
 born on the territories of the empire, was not of 
 the pure Sclavonian race, and that was enough to 
 make him be considered incapable of leading the 
 Russians to victory : he had, besides, turned his 
 distinguished talents toward systems of encamp- 
 ment, positions, and manoeuvres, while the mili- 
 tary art, which best suits the Russians, is attack. 
 To make them fall back, even from a wise and 
 well reasoned calculation, is to cool in them that 
 impetuosity from which they derive all their 
 strength. The prospects of the campaign were, 
 
266 TEN years' exile. 
 
 therefore, the most inauspicious possible, and the 
 silence which was maintained on that account 
 was still more alarming. The English give in 
 their public papers die most exact account, man 
 by man, of the wounded, prisoners and killed in 
 each action; noble candour of a government 
 which is equally sincere toward the nation and 
 its monarch, recognizing in both the same right 
 to have a knowledge of what concerns the na- 
 tion. I walked about with deep melancholy in 
 that beautiful city of Petersburg, which might 
 become the prey of the conqueror. When I 
 returned in the evening from the islands, and 
 saw the gilded point of the citadel which seemed 
 to spout out in the air like a ray of fire, while the 
 Neva reflected the marble quays and the palaces 
 which surround it, I represented to myself all 
 these wonders faded by the arrogance of a man 
 who would come to say, like Satan on the top of 
 a mountain, " The kingdoms of the earth are 
 mine." All that was beautiful and good at Pe- 
 tersburg, appeared to me in the presence of ap- 
 proaching destruction, and 1 could not enjoy them 
 without having these painful ideas constantly pur- 
 suing me. 
 
 I went to see the establishments for education, 
 founded by the empress, and there, even more than 
 in the palaces, my anxiety was redoubled ; for the 
 breath of Bonaparte's tyranny is sufficient, if it ap- 
 proach institutions tending to the improvement of 
 the human race, to alter their purity. The insti- 
 tute of St. Catherine is formed of two houses, each 
 containing two hundred and fifty young ladies of 
 the nobility and citizens; they are educated under 
 the inspection of the empress, with a degree of care 
 that even exceeds what a rich family would pay to 
 
TEN years' exile. 267 
 
 its own children. Order and elegance are remark- 
 able in the most minute details of this institute, and 
 the sentiment of the purest religion and morality 
 there presides over all that the fine arts can deve- 
 lop. The Russian females have so much natural 
 grace, that on entering the hall where all the young 
 ladies saluted us, I did not observe one who did not 
 give to this simple action all the politeness and mo- 
 desty which it was capable of expressing. They 
 were invited to exhibit to us the different kinds of ta- 
 lent which distinguished them, and one of them, 
 who knew by heart pieces of the best French au- 
 thors, repeated to me several of the most eloquent 
 pages of my father's Course of Religious Morals, 
 This delicate attention probably came from the 
 empress herself. I felt the most lively emotion in 
 hearing that language uttered, which for so many 
 years had had no asylum but in my heart. Be- 
 yond the empire of Bonaparte, in all countries pos- 
 terity commences, and justice is shown toward 
 those who, even in the tomb, have felt the attack of 
 his imperial calumnies. The young ladies of the 
 institute of St. Catherine, before sitting down to 
 table, sung psalms in chorus : this great number of 
 voices, so pure and sweet, occasioned me an emo- 
 tion of tender feeling mingled with bitterness. 
 What would war do, in the midst of such peacea- 
 ble establishments:* Where could these doves fly 
 to, from the arms of the conqueror f After this 
 meal, the young ladies assembled in a superb hall, 
 where they all danced together. There was noth- 
 ing striking in their features as to beauty, but their 
 gracefulness was extraordinary ; these were daugh- 
 ters of the East, with all the decency which Chris- 
 tian manners have introduced among women. — 
 They first executed an old dance to the tune of 
 
268 TEN YEARS EX11.E. 
 
 Long live Henry the Fourth, Long live this valiunt 
 King ! What a distance there was between the 
 times which this tune reminded one of, and the 
 present period ! Two little chubby girls of ten 
 years old finished the ballet by the Russian step : 
 this dance sometimes assumes the voluptuous cha- 
 racter of love, but executed by children, the inno- 
 cence of that age was mingled with the national 
 originality. It is impossible to paint the interest 
 inspired by these amiable talents, cultivated by the 
 delicate and generous hand of a female and a so- 
 vereign. 
 
 An establishment for the deaf and dumb, and an- 
 other for the blind, are equally under the inspec- 
 tion of the empress. The emperor, on his side, pays 
 great attention to the school of cadets, directed by 
 a man of very superior understanding. General 
 Klinger. All these establishments are truly useful, 
 but they might be reproached with being too splen- 
 did. At least it would be desirable to found in 
 different parts of the empire, not schools so supe- 
 rior, but establishments which would communicate 
 elementary instruction to the people. Every thing 
 has commenced in Russia by luxury, and the build- 
 ing has, it may be said, preceded the foundation. 
 There are only two great cities in Russia. Peters- 
 burg and Moscow ; the others scarcely deserve to 
 be mentioned ; they are besides separated at \'evy 
 great distances : even the chateaux of the nobility 
 are at such distances from each other, that it is with 
 difficulty the proprietors can communicate with 
 each other. Finally, the inhabitants are so dis- 
 persed in this empire, that the knowledge of some 
 can hardly be of use to others. The peasants can 
 only reckon by means of a calculating machine, and 
 the clerks of the post themselves follow the same 
 
TEX YEAB.3 EXILE. 269 
 
 method. The Greek popes have much less know- 
 ledge than the Catholic curates, or the Protestant 
 muiisters ; so that the clergy in Russia are really 
 not fit to instruct the people, as in the other coun- 
 tries of Europe. The great bond of the nation is 
 in religion and patriotism ; but there is in it no fo- 
 cus of knowledge, the rays of which might spread 
 over all parts of the empire, and the two capitals 
 have not yet learned to communicate to the pro- 
 vinces what they have collected in literature and 
 the fine arts. If this country could have remained 
 at peace, it would have experienced all sorts of 
 improvement under the beneficent reign of Alexan- 
 der. But who knows if the virtues which this war 
 has developed, may not be exactly those which are 
 likely to regenerate nations ? 
 
 The Russians have not yet had, up to the present 
 time, men of genius but for the military career ; in 
 all other arts they are only imitators ; printing, 
 however, has not been introduced among them 
 more than one hundred and twenty years. The 
 other nations of Europe have become civilized al- 
 most simultaneously, and have been able to mingle 
 their natural genius with acquired knowledge ; with 
 the Russians this mixture has not yet operated. In 
 the same manner as we see two rivers, after their 
 junction, flow in the same channel without confound- 
 ing their waters, in the same manner nature and 
 civilization are united among the Russians without 
 identifying the one with the other : and, according 
 to circumstances, the same man at one time presents 
 himself to you as an European who seems only to 
 exist in social forms, and at another time as a Scla-^ 
 vonian, who only listens to the most furious pas- 
 sions. Genius will come to them in the fine arts, 
 and particularly in literature, when they shall have 
 
 24 
 
2T0 TEN years' exile* 
 
 found out the means of infusing their real disposi- 
 tion into language, as they show it in action. 
 
 I witnessed ihe performance of a Russian tra- 
 gedy, the subject of which was the deliverance 
 of the Muscovites, when they drove back the 
 Tartars beyond Casan. The prince ofSnaolensko 
 appeared in the ancient costume of the boyars, 
 and the Tartar army was called the golden 
 horde. This piece was written almost entirely 
 according to the rules of the French drama ; the 
 lythm of the verses, the declamation, and the 
 division of the scenes, was entirely French ; one 
 situation only was peculiar to Russian manners, 
 and that was the profound terror which the dread 
 of her father's curse has inspired in a young fe- 
 male. Paternal authority is almost as strong 
 among the Russians as among the Chinese, and 
 it is always among the people that we must seek 
 for the germ of national character. The good 
 company of all countries resembles each other, 
 and nothing is so unfit as that elegant world to 
 furnish subjects for tragedy. Among ail those 
 which the history of Russia presents, there is one 
 by which 1 was particularly struck. Ivan the 
 Terrible, already old, was besieging Novogorod. 
 The boyars seeing him very much enfeebled, 
 asked him if he would not give the command of 
 the assault to his son. His rage at this proposi- 
 tion was so great, that nothing could ap[iease 
 him; his son prostrated himself at his feet, but 
 he repulsed him with a blow of such violence, 
 that two days after the unfortunate prince died of 
 it. The father, then reduced to despair, became 
 equally indifferent to war and to power, and only 
 survived his son a few months. This revolt of 
 an old despot against the progress of time, has 
 
 ,« 
 
TEN years' exile. ^71 
 
 in it something grand and solemn, and the melt- 
 i[)g tenderness which succeeds to the paroxysm 
 of rage in that ferocious soul, represents man as 
 he comes from the hand of nature, now irritated 
 by selfishness, and again restrained by afTection, 
 
 A law of Russia inflicted the same punishment 
 on the person who lamed a man in the arm as on 
 one who killed him. In fact, man in Russia is 
 principally valuable by his military strength; alt 
 other kinds of energy are adapted to manners and 
 institutions which the present state of Russia has 
 iiot yet developed. The females at Petersburg, 
 however, seemed to be penetrated with that pa- 
 triotic honour which constitutes the moral power 
 of a state* The Princess Dolgorouki, the baro- 
 ness Strogonofi, and several others equally of the 
 first rank, already knew that a part of their for- 
 tunes had suffered greatly by the ravaging of the 
 province of Smolensko, and they appeared not 
 to think of it otherwise than to encourage their 
 equals to sacrifice every thing like them. The 
 princess Dolgorouki related to me that an old 
 long-bearded Russian^ seated on an eminence 
 overlooking Smolensko, thus, in tears, addressed 
 his little grandson, whom he held upon his knees : 
 " Formerly, my child, the Russians went to gain 
 victories at the extremity of Europe ; now, stran- 
 gers come to attack them in their own homes," 
 The grief of this old man was not vain, and we 
 shall soon see how dearly his tears have been pur- 
 chased. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 Departure for Sweden. — Passage through Finland^ 
 
 The emperor quitted Petersburg, and I learned 
 that he was gone to Abo, where he was to meet 
 General Bernadotle, Prince Royal of Sweden. 
 This news left no farther doubt about the deter- 
 mination of that prince to take part in the present 
 war, and nothing could be more important at that 
 moment for the salvation of Russia, and conse- 
 quently for that of Europe. We shall see the in- 
 fluence of it developed in the sequel of this narra- 
 tive. The news of the entrance of the French into 
 Smolensko arrived during the conferences of the 
 prince of Sweden wiih the emperor of Russia ; 
 and it was there that Alexander contracted the 
 engagement with himself and the Prince Ro^al, 
 his ally, never to sign a treaty of peace. " Should 
 Petersburg be taken/' said he, " I will retire into 
 Siberia. I will there resume our ancient customs, 
 and like our long-bearded ancestors, we will re- 
 turn anew to conquer the empire." " This reso- 
 lution will liberate Europe," exclaimed the Prince 
 Royal, and his prediction begins to be accom- 
 plishing. 
 
 I saw the Emperor Alexander a second time 
 upon his return from Abo, and the conversation I 
 had the honour of holding with him, satisfied me 
 to that degree of the firmness of his determination, 
 that in spite cf the capture of Moscow, and all the 
 reports which followed it, I firmly believed that 
 he would never yield. He was so good as to tell 
 
T^N YEAflS* FXILE. 273 
 
 me, that after the capture of Smolensko, Marshal 
 Bcrthier had written to the Russian commander 
 in chief respecting some miHlary matters, and ter- 
 minated his letter by saying that the Emperor 
 Napoleon always preserved the tenderest friend- 
 ship for the Emperor Alexander, a stale mystifi- 
 cation which the emperor of Russia received as it 
 deserved. Napoleon had given him some lessons 
 in poliiics, and lessons in war, abandoning himself 
 in the first to the quackery of vice, and In the 
 second to the pleasure of exhibiting a disdainful 
 carelessness. He was deceived in the emperor 
 Alexander; he had mistaken the nobleness of his 
 character for dupery ; he had not been able to 
 perceive that if the emperor of Russia had allow- 
 ed himself to go too far in his enthusiasm for him, 
 it was because he believed him a partizan of the 
 first principles of the French revolution, which 
 agreed with his own opinions; but never had x41ex- 
 ander the idea of associating with Napoleon to re- 
 duce Europe to slavery. Napoleon thought ia 
 that, as well as in all other circumstances, to suc- 
 ceed in blinding a man by a false representation 
 of his interest; but he encountered conscience, 
 and his calculations were entirely batHed; for that 
 is an element, of the strength of which he knows 
 nothing, and which he never allows to enter into 
 his combinations. 
 
 Although General Barclay de Tolly was a mili- 
 tary man of great reputation, yet as he had ^net 
 with reverses at the beginning of the campaign, 
 the general opinion designated as his successor, a 
 general of great renown. Prince Kutusow ; he 
 look the command fifteen days before the entry of 
 the French into Moscow, but he got to the army 
 only six days before the great battle which took 
 
 24* 
 
274 TEN years' exile. 
 
 place almost at the gates of that city, at Borodino. 
 I went to see him the day before his departure ; 
 he was an old man of the most graceful manners, 
 and lively physiognomy, altho^jgh he had lost an 
 eye by one of the numerous wounds he had recei- 
 ved in the course of a fifty years' service. On 
 looking at him, I was afraid that he had not suffi- 
 cient strength to struggle with the rough young 
 men who were pouncing upon Russia from all cor- 
 ners of Europe : but the Russian courtiers at 
 Petersburg become Tartars at the army ; and we 
 have seen by Suwarow that neither age nor honours 
 can enervate their physical and moral energy. I 
 was moved at taking leave of this illustrious Mar- 
 shal Kutusow ; I knew not whether I was embra- 
 cing a conqueror or a martyr, but I saw that he 
 had the fullest sense of the grandeur of the cause 
 in which he was employed. It was for the defence, 
 or rather for the restoration of all the moral vir- 
 tues which man owes to Christianity, of all the dig- 
 nity he derives from God, of all the independence 
 which he is allowed by nature ; it was for the res- 
 cuing of all these advantages from the clutches of 
 one man, for the French are as little to be accused 
 as the Germans and Italians who followed his 
 train, of the crimes of his armies. Before his de- 
 parture, Marshal Kufusovv went to offer up prayers 
 in the church of our Lady of Casan, and all the 
 people who followed his steps, called out to him 
 io be the saviour of Russia. What a moment for 
 a mortal being! His age gave him no hope of sur- 
 viving the fatigues of the campaign ; but there are 
 moments when man has a wish to die for the 
 saiisfaction of his soul. 
 
 Certain of the generous opinions and of the no- 
 ble conduct of the Prince of Sweden, I was more 
 
TEN YEARS^ EXILE. 275 
 
 than ever confirmed in the resolution of going to 
 Stockholm, previous to embarking for England; 
 toward the end of September I quitted Petersburg 
 to repair to Sweden through Finland. My new 
 friends, those whom a community of sentiment had 
 brought about me, came to bid me adieu; Sir Ro- 
 bert Wilson, who seeks every where an opportunity 
 of fighting, and inflaming his friends by his spirit: 
 M. de Stein, a man of antique character, who only 
 lived in the hope of seeing the deliverance of his 
 country ; the Spanish envoy ; and the English mi- 
 nister. Lord Tyrconnel ; the witty Admiral Ben- 
 tinck ; Alexis de Noailles, the only French emigrant 
 from the imperial tyranny, the only one who was 
 there, like me, to bear witness for France ; Colonel 
 Dornberg, that intrepid Hessian whom nothing has 
 turned from the object of his pursuit; and several 
 Russians, whose names have been since celebrated 
 by their exploits. Never was the fate of the world 
 exposed to greater dangers ; no one dared to say 
 so, but all knew it : I only, as a female, was not 
 exposed to it ; but I might reckon what I had suf- 
 fered as something. I knew not in bidding adieu 
 to these worthy knights of the human race, which 
 of them I should ever see again, and already two 
 of them are no longer in existence. When the pas- 
 sions of man rouse man against his fellows, when 
 nations attack each other with fury, we recognize, 
 with sorrow, human destiny in the miseries of hu- 
 manity ; but when a single being, similar to the 
 idols of tiie Laplanders, to whom the incense of 
 fear is offered up, spreads misery over the earth in 
 torrents, we experience a sort of superstitious fear 
 which leads us to consider all honourable persons 
 as his victims. 
 
 On entering into Finland, every thing indicates 
 
276 TEN years' exile. 
 
 that you have passed into another country, and 
 that jou have to do with a very different race from 
 the Sclavonians. The Finns are said to come im- 
 mediately from the North of Asia; their language 
 also is said to have no resemblance to the Swedish, 
 which is an intermediate one between the English 
 and the German. The countenances of the Finns, 
 however, are generally perfectly German : their 
 fair hair, and white complexions, bear no resem- 
 blance to the vivacity of the Russian countenance; 
 but their manners are also much milder; the com- 
 mon people have a settled probity, the result of pro- 
 testant instruction, and purity of manners. On 
 Sundays, the young women are seen returning 
 from sermon on horseback, and the young men 
 following them. You will frequentlj^ receive hos- 
 pitality from the pastors of Finland, who regard it 
 as their duty to give a lodging to travellers, and 
 nothing can be more pure or delightful than the 
 reception you meet with in those families ; there 
 are scarcely any noblemens' seats in Finland, so 
 that the pastors are generally the most important 
 personages of the country. In several Finnish 
 songs, the young girls offer to their lovers to sa- 
 crifice the residence of the pastor, even if it was of- 
 fered to them to share. This reminds me of the 
 expression of a young shepherd, '' If I was a king, 
 I would keep my sheep on horseback." The ima- 
 gination itself scarcely goes beyond what is known. 
 The aspect of nature is very different in Fin- 
 land to what it is in Russia ; in place of the 
 marshes and plains which surround St. Peters- 
 burg, you find rocks, almost mountains, and 
 forests: but after a time, these mountains, and 
 those forests, composed of the same trees, the 
 fir and the birch, become monotonous. The 
 
TEN years' exile. 277 
 
 enormous blocks of granite which are seen scatter- 
 ed through the country, and on the borders of the 
 high roads, give the country an air of vigour ; but 
 there is very Httle hfe around these great bones of 
 the earth, and vegetation begins to decrease from 
 the latitude of Finland to the last degree of the 
 animated world. We passed through a forest 
 half consumed by fire; the north winds which 
 add to the force of the flames, render these fires 
 very frequent, both in the towns and in the coun- 
 try. Man has, in all ways, great difficulty in 
 maintaining the struggle with nature in these 
 frozen climates. You meet with few towns in 
 Finland, and those few are very thinly peopled. 
 There is no centre, no emulation, nothing to say, 
 and very httle to do, in a northern Swedish or 
 Russian province, and during eight months of 
 the year, the whole of animated nature is asleep. 
 The Emperor Alexander possessed himself of 
 Finland after the treaty of Tilsit, and at a pe- 
 riod when the deranged intellects of the mo- 
 narch who then reigned in Sweden, Gustavus IV., 
 rendered him incapable of defending his country. 
 The moral character of this prince was very es* 
 timable, but from his infancy, he had been sensi- 
 ble himself that he could not hold the reins of 
 government. The Swedes fought in Finland 
 with the greatest courage ; but without a warlike 
 chief on the throne, a nation which is not nume- 
 rous cannot triumph over a powerful enemy. 
 The Emperor Alexander ^ecame master of Fin- 
 land by conquest, and Jdi^ treaties founded on 
 force ;but we must do hin^^e justice to say, that 
 he treated this new provirre^'^very well, and re- 
 spected the libertiel^he enjoyed. He allowed 
 the Finns all their .privileges relative to the 
 raising of taxes and men; he sent very generous 
 
278 TEN years' exile. 
 
 assistance to the towns which had been burnt, 
 and his favours compensated to a certain extent 
 what the Finns possessed as rights, if free men 
 can ever accede voluntarily to that sort of ex- 
 change. Finally, one of the prevailing ideas of 
 the nineteenth century, natural boundaries, ren- 
 dered Finland as necessary to Russia, as Norway 
 to Sweden ; and it must be admitted as a truth, 
 that wherever these natural limits have not ex- 
 isted, they have been the source of perpetual 
 •wars. 
 
 I embarked at Abo, the capital of Finland. 
 There is an university in that cily, and they 
 make some attempts in it to cultivate the intel- 
 lect : but the vicinity of the bears and wolves 
 during the winter is so close, that all ideas are 
 absorbed in the necessity of insuring a tolerable 
 physical existence ; and the difficulty which is 
 felt in obtaining that in the countries of the north, 
 consumes a great part of the time which is else- 
 where consecrated to the enjoyment of the intel- 
 lectual arts. As some compensation, however, 
 it may be said that the very difficulties with 
 which nature surrounds men give greater firm- 
 ness to their character, and prevent the admis- 
 sion into their mind of all the disorders occa- 
 sioned by idleness. I could not help, however, 
 every moment regretting those rays of the south 
 which had penetrated to my very soul. 
 
 The mythological ideas of the inhabitants of 
 the North are constantly representing to them 
 ghosts and phantoms; day is there equa41y h- 
 vourable to apparitions as night ; something pale 
 and cloudy seems to summon the dead to return 
 to the earth, to breathe the cold air, as the tomb 
 with which the living are surrounded. In these 
 countries the two extremities are generally more 
 
TEN years' exile. 279 
 
 conspicuous than the intermediate ones ; where 
 men are entirely occupied with conquering their 
 existence from nature, mental labours very easily 
 become mystical, because man draws entirely 
 from himself, and is in no degree inspired by ex- 
 ternal objects. 
 
 Since I have been so cruelly persecuted by the 
 Emperor, I have lost all kind of confidence in des- 
 tiny ; I have however a stronger belief in the pro- 
 tection of Providence, but it is not in the form of 
 happiness on this earth. The result is, that all re- 
 solutions terrify me, and yet exile obliges me fre- 
 quently to adopt some. I dreaded the sea, although 
 every one said, all the world makes this passage, 
 and no harm happens to any one. Such is the 
 language which encourages almost all travellers : 
 but the imagiiaation does not allow itself to be 
 chained by this kind of consolation, and that abyss, 
 from which so slight an obstacle separates you, is 
 always tormenting to the mind. Mr. Schlegel 
 saw the terror 1 felt about the frail vessel which 
 was to carry us to Stockholm. He showed me, 
 near Abo, the prison in which one of the most un- 
 fortunate kings of Sweden, Eric XIV. had been 
 confined, some time before he died in another prison 
 near Gripsholm. " If you were confined there," 
 he said to me,^ *' how much would you envy the 
 passage of this sea, which at present so terrifies 
 you." This just reflection speedily gave another 
 turn to my ideas, and the first days of our voyage 
 were sufficiently pleasant. We passed between the 
 islands, and although there was more danger close 
 to the land than in the open sea, one never feels the 
 same terror which the sight of the waves appearing 
 to touch the sky makes one experience. I made 
 them show me the land in the horizon, as far as I 
 could perceive it 5 infinity is as fearful to the sight 
 
280 TEN years' exile. 
 
 as it is pleasant to the soul. We passed by the isle 
 of Aland, where the plenipotentiaries ofPeter I. and 
 Charles XII. negociated a peace, and endeavoured 
 to fix boundaries to their ambition in this frozen 
 part of the world, which the blood of their subjects 
 alone had been able to thaw for a moment. We 
 hoped to reach Stockholm the following day, but a 
 decidedly contrary wind obliged us to cast anchor 
 by the side of an island entirely covered with rocks 
 interspersed with trees, which hardly grew higher 
 than the stones which surrounded them. We hasten- 
 ed, however, to take a walk on this island, in order 
 to feel the earth under our feet. 
 
 I have always been very subject to ennui, and far 
 from knowing how to occupy myself at those mo- 
 ments of entire leisure which seem destined for study 
 
 Here the manuscript breaks off. 
 
 After a passage which was not without danger, my 
 mother was landed safely at Stockholm. She was re- 
 ceived in Sweden with the greatest kindness, and spent 
 eight months there, and it was there she wrote the 
 present journal. Shortly after, she departed for Lon- 
 don, and there published her work on Germany^ which 
 the Imperial police had suppressed. But her health, 
 already cruelly affected by Bonaparte's persecutions, 
 having suffered from the fatigues of along voyage, she 
 felt herself obliged without farther delay to undertake 
 the history of the political life of her father, and to 
 adjourn to a future period all other labours, until she 
 had finished that which her filial affection made her 
 regard as a duty. She then conceived the plan of her 
 Considerations on the French Revolution. That work 
 even she was not spared to finish, and the manuscript 
 of her Ten Years'" Exile remained in her portfolio in 
 the state in which 1 now publish it. 
 
 {Note by the Editor.)