By way of amusement the child was allowed to read Robinson Crusoe, and Royaumont's Bible, to play in the courtyard of the chateau in summer, taking care not to trespass beyond a certain boundary mark, and in the autumn to go and roast chestnuts in the kitchen. At bedtime she went up to her room with her governess, the guileless Mile Lefranc, who made her "say the Pater twice over, the second time in Latin, under the impression that it was a different prayer'.
This was how little girls were brought up, towards 1810, by the old nobility of the Languedoc.
In addition to these gentry, digging themselves in so obstinately in their chateaux, there were involuntary exiles in many parts of the Empire, provincials against their will. First the Englishmen interned by Bonaparte after the rupture of the Treaty of Amiens; then, a little later, those Frenchmen whom his police had politely requested to take up their residence at a distance of forty leagues from Paris. So many unexpected guests who ended by turning certain towns into a sort of secret tribunal for unruly schoolboys. And this was not one of the least curious aspects of the provinces at that time.
Imagine the feelings of a British tourist, swigging champagne at Hardy's or Corazza's when, on the 3rd Prairial, year IX, an orderly came to tell him he was a prisoner of war and must present himself next day to the Paris Government, to be told where he was to be interned. This measure was adopted as a reprisal for the seizure of our ships by our neighbours; but for the 7,000 islanders who thought themselves quite safe with us this sensational counter-stroke must have appeared harsh, all the same. Some were sent to Fontainebleau, to Orleans or Valenciennes, others to Chalons or Nancy, the unluckiest to the fort of Bitche, and the majority to Verdun.
We get many details of the English colony's sojourn in Verdun from the Diary of James Henry Lawrence 1 and the Letters of his learned compatriot James Forbes. 2 It must obviously be unpleasant for people who had set out to amuse themelves in Paris, to find themselves treated as hostages and kept away from their homes for months and years in a sub-prefecture of the Meuse. But apart from this, there is no need to exaggerate the severity of an exile which, according to the evidence of the victims themselves, would seem to have been very bearable. Thanks to the goodwill of the local authorities, especially General Wirion, their internment looked from the first more like a country holiday.
Forbes rented a handsome apartment at the cost of a guinea a week. His board for the same period amounted to two louis, including champagne and other choice wines, and he may be said to have put a good stomach on his misfortunes. Miss Forbes took dancing lessons from the best dancing master In the town, at ten sous a time, music lessons at twenty-five sous, drawing lessons at thirty sous. In fact the family "enjoyed every pleasure for one louis a day', concludes the captive, 'except those of the mind and of sweet liberty'.
1 James Henry Lawrence, A Picture of Verdun, 2 vols. 1810.
2 James Forbes, Letters from France in the years 1803-1804. London, 1806.
Even sweet liberty seems not to have been entirely denied to the English colony. In summer they were allowed to organize excursions into the surrounding country, with rustic meals at the inns, and in winter, wolf and wild boar hunts. Drawing-rooms were thrown open for their benefit, too, and subscription balls given there to the delight of the young English ladies. The men got up races, with Lord Yarborough and the Honourable Tufton [sic] as stewards, at which thoroughbreds were run at an entrance fee of fifty louis. There was the theatre, too, which gave performances in English. One evening the internees acted Douglas and The Revenge, and a London newspaper, The Argus* has this to say of the performance:
c The theatre was full. Everybody of importance in Verdun, from the point of view of rank and elegance, had flocked there. We may mention Lord Yarmouth, Colonels Aber-cromby and Scott of the land forces, Captains Gower and Brenton of the Navy, and all the officers detained at Verdun as well as the civilians acting as hostages; the ladies shone with special lustre, having donned their gala dresses, and so did the gentlemen, who were wearing opera hats with black cockades. In a word, it was a very English spectacle and a curiosity in its way — an English play and an English farce, acted in France by prisoners of war before an audience composed of their like/
Since this was not a unique example, since the English in Nancy, better treated even than those in Verdun, took part in masked balls and the festivals of the Carnival, and were entertained in the homes of the best families of Lorraine, there was probably no need to pity the fate of the internees. If the French prisoners who were soon to people the hulks of Portsmouth and Chatham had had the benefit of the same treatment, they would doubtless not have retained such terrible memories o£ their captivity.
*A Napoleonic propaganda newspaper printed in London.
From 1805 onwards the Departments had a further clientele, that of the political enemies of whom the Emperor wished to rid himself. He who, as a rule, was so fond of centralization, employed an exactly opposite method with the Opposition, decentralizing it as fast as he could, and thus becoming the chief purveyor of the provinces.
If the presence of Barras was detected in Paris, or that of General Lecourbe in the outskirts, the former was immediately invited to retire to the Dauphine, the latter to the Midi, No less categorical orders were given to Leon de Rohan-Chabot, to the Tourzel family, and to Mme de Bethune-Charost. The first received his passport to Brussels, the others to Dijon and Geneva.
Hundreds of expulsions followed — those of M. de Nar-bonne, of Mme de Balbi and many others. On each occasion there were brief memorandums or furious notes addressed to Fouche: *If M. Chenier dares to make the least remark, inform him that I shall give orders for him to be sent to the isles of Sainte-Marguerite. The day of jokes is past. Let him keep quiet, it's all he has a right to. Don't let that huzzy Mme de Stael come within reach of Paris; I know she's not far off it.'
Another time, on the subject of the same person: 'That woman is still plying her trade of intriguer. She has approached Paris in spite of my orders. She's a regular pest... I shall have to have her removed by the gendarmerie.'
It must be admitted that the Chatelaine of Coppet was the most incorrigible of rebels and mischief-makers. When she was supposed to be in Switzerland she was actually at Lyons, appearing in a box at the theatre during a performance by Talma - apparently for her sole benefit. Or she would start off for Auxerre, complain that she could not sleep there, take the road to Blois, via Briare, hit on the idea of driving round the capital within a radius of forty leagues, and write to her friends, declaring that she could be really comfortable only on the cushions of a post-chaise or in Paris.
But she surpassed herself one evening at Buissonrond, where she had gone to dine, in defiance of orders, with her friends the de Boignes. Sitting opposite to her at table was M. Finot, the Prefect of Savoy, who must have been feeling rather embarrassed, since he was bound theoretically to keep watch on her movements. As he was a man of the world the conversation was none the less enjoyable, until Mme de Stael asked him for news of an official she had known earlier as a sub-prefect.
'He is now a prefect and thought very highly of, replied M. Finot.
'Really! I'm glad to hear it; he's a charming young man. As a matter of fact/ she added carelessly, Tve usually found that class of employees very pleasant/