7 On October 5, 1795— 13 vendémiaire according to the revolutionary calendar still in effect—troops under General Bonaparte fired on a crowd of royalists who had gathered near the Church of Saint-Roch, hoping to spark a counterrevolutionary coup. Bonaparte's actions established him as an agent of government authority and solidified his ties to Barras and the Directory government. The meeting described accurately reflects the political mood and instability of the last months of the Restoration. Discontent was widespread and secret societies proliferated, on the right and the left, although not to the extent the public imagined. The politics of the Marquis de La Mole's group suggests the archconservative Chevaliers de la Foi (see note for p. 22, l. 23), an aristocratic, counterrevolutionary association founded in 1801, whose members included some of the greatest names of the French aristocracy (i.e., Montmorency, La Rochefoucauld). Many of the Chevaliers were also members of the Congrégation, thus giving the latter group an undeserved reputation for political activism. There are no historical indications that either the Chevaliers or any other group ever sought to overthrow the French government with the help of foreign invaders.
Chapter Twenty–Three: The Clergy, Their Woodlands, And Freedom
mention these things to our foreign friend if he insists, most seriously, on knowing about our young wildmen. Do these hotheads worry about the state being overthrown? They'll become cardinals; they'll take refuge in Rome. But us, in our great houses, we will be massacred by the peasants." The secret note, which the marquis composed on the basis of Julien's large report, all twenty-six pages of it, was not ready until four forty-five. "I'm tired to death," the marquis said, "and that's perfectly obvious in this note, which toward the end lacks clarity. I'm less satisfied with this than I've ever been, really, with anything in my life. See here, my friend," he added, "go take a few hours of rest. And because I worry about your being kidnapped, I will come with you and lock you in your room." The next day, the marquis brought Julien to an isolated country house, rather far from Paris. There were strange people in residence; Julien took them for priests. He was given a passport, under a fictitious name, which indicated the true destination of his trip, something he had always pretended not to know. He climbed into a carriage, alone. The marquis was not worried about his memory. Julien had several times recited the secret note. What did worry Monsieur de La Mole was fear of Julien's being intercepted. "Never stop looking like a fop, traveling to kill time," he told Julien, just as the younger man was leaving. His voice was friendly. "There may have been more than one false friend at our meeting, last night." Traveling was rapid and extremely dismal. Julien was barely out of the marquis's sight when he'd forgotten the secret note, and his mission, only daydreaming about Mathilde's contempt. In a village not far distant from Metz,8 the postmaster9 came to tell him there were no horses available. It was ten o'clock at night. Much vexed, Julien requested supper. He walked along, in front of the post house, and gradually, without being seen, got into the stables. There was not a horse in sight. However, Julien told himself, the postmaster had seemed strange. "He was studying me with his vulgar eyes." He had begun, as you see, not to fully believe everything he'd been told. He thought about escaping, after supper. In order to learn something about the place, he left his room and went down to warm himself at the kitchen fire. How happy he was to discover, there, Signor Géronimo, the famous singer! Settled in an easy chair, which he'd brought up to the fire, the Neapolitan was groaning louder, and talking more, all by himself, than the twenty German peasants who stood around, gaping at him. "These people here are ruining me," he declared to Julien. "I've promised to sing tomorrow, in Mayence.10 Seven sovereign princes have hurried to hear me. But let's go for a walk," he added, with a knowing look. When they were a hundred paces down the street, and beyond any chance of being overheard: "Do you know what this is all about?" he asked Julien. "Our postmaster is a scoundrel. I came out and walked around, earlier, and gave twenty pence to a young rascal who told me the whole story. There are more than a dozen horses, in a stable at the other side of town. They're trying to slow down some courier."