Madame d’Arblay’s Plans for her Son—Landing in England—Arrival at Chelsea—Saddening Change in Dr. Burney—Alexander d’Arblay at Cambridge—Publication of the ‘Wanderer’—Death of Dr. Burney—Madame d’Arblay presented to Louis XVIII.—M. d’Arblay appointed to the Corps de Gardes du Roi—Arrives in England and Carries Madame back to France—Madame d’Arblay presented to the Duchess d’Angoulême—The Hundred Days—Panic at Brussels—M. d’Arblay invalided—Settles in England—His Death—Remaining Days of Madame d’Arblay—Visit from Sir Walter Scott—The Memoirs of Dr. Burney—Tributes to their Value—Death of Alexander d’Arblay—Death of Madame d’Arblay—Conclusion.
Madame d’Arblay had other reasons for wishing to return to England besides the mere desire to see her father and kindred. The longer her only child remained in France, the greater risk he ran of being caught by the conscription, which continually increased its demands. The young Alexander was now of an age to be prepared for a profession, and it cannot be doubted that his mother was anxious to make provision for this purpose. Before leaving Paris, she had begun a treaty in London for the publication of her fourth story. Through what channel this was done we do not learn, but as early as December, 1811, Lord Byron[123] had heard that a thousand guineas were being asked for a new novel by Madame d’Arblay. She brought the manuscript over with her in a half-finished state.
The travellers did not escape the perils of the time, though happily they were taken prisoners by their own 316countrymen. They and several others had engaged berths on board an American vessel, the astute captain of which delayed his departure so long, in order to obtain more passengers, that when at length he entered British waters, he found himself a prize to the coastguard, news having just arrived that the United States had declared war against England.
It was the middle of August when mother and son found themselves again on English ground. ‘I can hardly believe it,’ writes the former to her sister Charlotte, now Mrs. Broome; ‘I look around me in constant inquiry and doubt; I speak French to every soul, and I whisper still if I utter a word that breathes private opinion.’ She goes on to describe her meeting with her father: ‘I found him in his library by himself—but, oh! my dearest, very much altered indeed—weak, weak and changed—his head almost always hanging down, and his hearing most cruelly impaired. I was terribly affected, but most grateful to God for my arrival.’ During the separation, Dr. Burney had not been unfortunate until the infirmities of age overcame him: the pension which he ought to have received from Mr. Pitt had been procured for him by Mr. Fox. He had been happily employed in writing for Rees’s Encyclop?dia; had received flattering notice from the Prince of Wales; had heard his Royal Highness quote Homer in Greek and imitate Dr. Parr’s lisp, and talked familiarly with him at the opera; had been a courted guest in many great houses; and had enjoyed the meetings of the Club till his sight and hearing both began to fail. When he could no longer go abroad, he spent most of his time in reading in his bedroom. Madame d’Arblay employed herself during this visit to England in nursing her father in his last days, in settling her son at Cambridge, and in bringing out her new book.
317Having obtained the Tancred scholarship, Alexander d’Arblay commenced residence at Christ’s College, Cambridge, in October, 1813. He eventually graduated as tenth Wrangler, and became Fellow of his college. ‘But,’ says Macaulay, who had mixed with his fellow-students, ‘his reputation at the University was higher than might be inferred from his success in academical contests. His French education had not fitted him for the examinations of the Senate House;[124] but in pure mathematics we have been assured by some of his competitors that he had very few equals.’
‘The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties’ appeared in the beginning of 1814. Notwithstanding the falling-off which had been observed in ‘Camilla,’ the whole edition of the new work was bespoken before it was published. In six months, 3,600 copies were sold at two guineas a copy. But it may be doubted whether the most conscientious reader persevered to the end of the fifth volume. Ten years of exile had destroyed all trace of the qualities which made ‘Evelina’ popular.
Dr. Burney lived to his eighty-eighth birthday, and died at Chelsea on the 12th of April, 1814, in the presence of his recovered daughter, who had tended his last hours. A tablet to his memory, bearing an inscription from her pen, was placed in Westminster Abbey.
A few days after his death, Madame d’Arblay was presented to Louis XVIII. By desire of Queen Charlotte, she attended a reception held by the restored King in London on the day preceding his departure for France. Her sovereign—for it must be remembered that she was now a French subject—paid her the most courteous 318attention. Addressing her ‘in very pretty English,’ he told her that he had known her long, for he had been charmed with her books, and ‘read them very often.’ He bade her farewell in French, with the words ‘Bonjour, Madame la Comtesse.’
M. d’Arblay had no further reason to complain of Bourbon ingratitude. Within a few weeks he received a commission in the King’s Corps de Gardes, and soon afterwards he was restored to his former rank of Maréchal de Camp. He obtained leave of absence towards the close of the year, and came to England for a few weeks; after which Madame d’Arblay returned with him to Paris, leaving their son to pursue his studies at Cambridge.
In the early weeks of 1815, Madame d’Arblay was admitted to an audience of the Duchesse d’Angoulême, the King’s niece; close on which followed the return of Bonaparte from Elba, and the Hundred Days. Neither the General nor his wife seems to have felt any alarm till the Corsican reached Lyons. Then a passport was obtained for Madame, that she might be able to leave France in case of need, while her husband remained fixed to his post in the capital. In the night between the 19th and 20th of March, after the King had left Paris, and not many hours before Napoleon entered it, Madame d’Arblay took her departure, accompanied by the Princesse d’Hénin. After many difficulties and misadventures, the fugitives reached Brussels. In that city Madame d’Arblay was presently joined by her husband, who had followed Louis XVIII. to Ghent with the rest of the royal bodyguard. She remained in Brussels till the close of the campaign, and for some weeks longer. At a later date she wrote from memory a narrative of what befell her during this period. It includes a description of the scenes that occurred in the Belgian capital while the armies were 319facing each other within cannon-sound of its streets. The account is graphic, though too diffuse to be quoted at length; evidently it furnished Thackeray with much of the material for the famous chapters in ‘Vanity Fair.’ We give some abridged extracts:
“What a day of confusion and alarm did we all spend on the 17th!... That day, and June 18th, I passed in hearing the cannon! Good Heaven! what indescribable horror to be so near the field of slaughter! such I call it, for the preparation to the ear by the tremendous sound was soon followed by its fullest effect, in the view of the wounded.... And hardly more afflicting was this disabled return from the battle, than the sight of the continually pouring forth victims that marched past my windows to meet similar destruction....
“Accounts from the field of battle arrived hourly; sometimes directly from the Duke of Wellington to Lady Charlotte Greville, and to some other ladies who had near relations in the combat, and which, by their means, were circulated in Brussels; and in other times from such as conveyed those amongst the wounded Belgians, whose misfortunes were inflicted near enough to the skirts of the spots of action, to allow of their being dragged away by their hovering countrymen to the city....
“During this period, I spent my whole time in seeking intelligence....
“Ten times, at least, I crossed over to Madame d’Hénin, discussing plans and probabilities, and interchanging hopes and fears....
“Madame d’Hénin and Madame de la Tour du Pin projected retreating to Gand, should the approach of the enemy be unchecked; to avail themselves of such protection as might be obtained from seeking it under the wing 320of Louis XVIII. M. de la Tour du Pin had, I believe, remained there with his Majesty.
“M. de Lally and the Boyds inclined to Antwerp, where they might safely await the fate of Brussels, near enough for returning, should it weather the storm, yet within reach of vessels to waft them to the British shores should it be lost.
“Should this last be the fatal termination, I, of course had agreed to join the party of the voyage, and resolved to secure my passport, that, while I waited to the last moment, I might yet be prepared for a hasty retreat.
“I applied for a passport to Colonel Jones, to whom the Duke of Wellington had deputed the military command of Brussels in his absence; but he was unwilling to sanction an evacuation of Brussels, which he deemed premature. It was not, he said, for us, the English, to spread alarm, or prepare for an overthrow: he had not sent away his own wife or children, and he had no doubt but victory would repay his confidence....
“I found upon again going my rounds for information, that though news was arriving incessantly from the scene of action, and with details always varying, Bonaparte was always advancing. All the people of Brussels lived in the streets. Doors seemed of no use, for they were never shut. The individuals, when they re-entered their houses, only resided at the windows: so that the whole population of the city seemed constantly in public view. Not only business as well as society was annihilated, but even every species of occupation. All of which we seemed capable was, to inquire or to relate, to speak or to hear. Yet no clamour, no wrangling, nor even debate was intermixed with either question or answer; curiosity, though incessant, was serene; the faces were all monotony, though the tidings were all variety. I could attribute 321this only to the length of time during which the inhabitants had been habituated to change both of masters and measures, and to their finding that, upon an average, they neither lost nor gained by such successive revolutions....
“But what a day was the next—June 18th—the greatest, perhaps, in its results, in the annals of Great Britain!...
“I was calmly reposing, when I was awakened by the sound of feet abruptly entering my drawing-room. I started, and had but just time to see by my watch that it was only six o’clock, when a rapping at my bedroom door ... made me slip on a long kind of domino, ... and demand what was the matter. “Open your door! there is not a moment to lose!” was the answer, in the voice of Miss Ann Boyd. I obeyed, in great alarm, and saw that pretty and pleasing young woman, with her mother, Mrs. Boyd.... They both eagerly told me that all their new hopes had been overthrown by better authenticated news, and that I must be with them by eight o’clock, to proceed to the wharf, and set sail for Antwerp, whence we must sail on for England, should the taking of Brussels by Bonaparte endanger Antwerp also....
“My host and my maid carried my small package, and I arrived before eight in the Rue d’Assault. We set off for the wharf on foot, not a fiacre or chaise being procurable. Mr. and Mrs. Boyd, five or six of their family, a governess, and I believe some servants, with bearers of our baggage, made our party.... When we had got about a third part of the way, a heavy rumbling sound made us stop to listen. It was approaching nearer and nearer, and we soon found that we were followed by innumerable carriages, and a multitude of persons....
“Arrived at the wharf, Mr. Boyd pointed out to us our barge, which seemed fully ready for departure; but the 322crowd, already come and still coming, so incommoded us, that Mr. Boyd desired we would enter a large inn, and wait till he could speak with the master, and arrange our luggage and places. We went, therefore, into a spacious room and ordered breakfast, when the room was entered by a body of military men of all sorts; but we were suffered to keep our ground till Mr. Boyd came to inform us that we must all decamp!...
“He conducted us not to the barge, not to the wharf, but to the road back to Brussels; telling us, in an accent of depression, that he feared all was lost—that Bonaparte was advancing—that his point was decidedly Brussels—and that the Duke of Wellington had sent orders that all the magazines, the artillery, and the warlike stores of every description, and all the wounded, the maimed, and the sick, should be immediately removed to Antwerp. For this purpose he had issued directions that every barge, every boat, should be seized for the use of the army; and that everything of value should be conveyed away, the hospitals emptied, and Brussels evacuated.
“If this intelligence filled us with the most fearful alarm, how much more affrighting still was the sound of cannon which next assailed our ears! The dread reverberation became louder and louder as we proceeded....
“Yet, strange to relate! on re-entering the city, all seemed quiet and tranquil as usual! and though it was in this imminent and immediate danger of being invested, and perhaps pillaged, I saw no outward mark of distress or disturbance, or even of hurry or curiosity.
“Having re-lodged us in the Rue d’Assault, Mr. Boyd tried to find some land carriage for our removal. But not only every chaise had been taken, and every diligence secured; the cabriolets, the calèches, nay, the waggons and the carts, and every species of caravan, had been 323seized for military service. And, after the utmost efforts he could make, in every kind of way, he told us we must wait the chances of the day, for that there was no possibility of escape from Brussels, either by land or water....
“I was seated at my bureau and writing, when a loud ‘hurrah!’ reached my ears from some distance, while the daughter of my host, a girl of about eighteen, gently opening my door, said the fortune of the day had suddenly turned, and that Bonaparte was taken prisoner.
“At the same time the ‘hurrah!’ came nearer. I flew to the window; my host and hostess came also, crying, ‘Bonaparte est pris! le voilà! le voilà!’
“I............