The House of the Combrays | Page 6

anxious to learn more, but to do that it would be necessary
to consult the report of the trial in the record office at Rouen. I never
had time. I mentioned it to M. Gustave Bord, to Frédéric Masson and
M. de la Sicotière, and thought no more about it even after the
interesting article published in the Temps, by M. Ernest Daudet, until
walking one day with Lenôtre in the little that is left of old Paris of the
Cité, the house in the Rue Chanoinesse, where Balzac lodged Mme. de
la Chanterie, reminded me of Moisson, whose adventure I narrated to
Lenôtre, at that time finishing his "Conspiration de la Rouërie." That
was sufficient to give him the idea of studying the records of the affair
of 1807, which no one had consulted before him. A short time after he
told me that the tower of Tournebut was still in existence, and that he
was anxious for us to visit it, the son-in-law of the owner of the
Château of Aubevoye, M. Constantin, having kindly offered to conduct
us.
On a fine autumn morning the train left us at the station that served the
little village of Aubevoye, whose name has twice been heard in the
Courts of Justice, once in the trial of Mme. de Combray and once in
that of Mme. de Jeufosse. Those who have no taste for these sorts of
excursions cannot understand their charm. Whether it be a little
historical question to be solved, an unknown or badly authenticated fact
to be elucidated, this document hunt with its deceptions and surprises is
the most amusing kind of chase, especially in company with a delver
like Lenôtre, endowed with an admirable flair that always puts him on

the right track. There was, moreover, a particular attraction in this old
forgotten tower, in which we alone were interested, and in examining
into Moisson's story!
Of the château that had been built by the Marechal de Marillac, and
considerably enlarged by Mme. de Combray, nothing, unhappily,
remains but the out-buildings, a terrace overlooking the Seine, the court
of honour turned into a lawn, an avenue of old limes and the ancient
fence. A new building replaced the old one fifty years ago. The little
château, "Gros-Mesnil," near the large one has recently been restored.
But the general effect is the same as in 1804. Seeing the great woods
that hug the outer wall so closely, one realises how well they lent
themselves to the mysterious comings and goings, to the secret councils,
to the rôle destined for it by Mme. de Combray, preparing the finest
room for the arrival of the King or the Comte d'Artois, and in both the
great and little château, arranging hiding-places, one of which alone
could accommodate forty armed men.
The tower is still there, far from the château, at the summit of a wooded
hill in the centre of a clearing, which commands the river valley. It is a
squat, massive construction, of forbidding aspect, such as Moisson
described, with thick walls, and windows so narrow that they look
more like loopholes. It seems as if it might originally have been one of
the guard-houses or watch-towers erected on the heights from Nantes to
Paris, like the tower of Montjoye whose ditch is recognisable in the
Forest of Marly, or those of Montaigu and Hennemont, whose ruins
were still visible in the last century. Some of these towers were
converted into mills or pigeon-houses. Ours, whose upper story and
pointed roof had been demolished and replaced by a platform at an
uncertain date, was flanked by a wooden mill, burnt before the
Revolution, for it is not to be found in Cassini's chart which shows all
in the region. The tower and its approaches are still known as the "burnt
mill."
There remains no trace of the excavation which was in front of the
entrance in 1804, and which must have been the last vestige of an old
moat. The threshold crossed, we are in the circular chamber; at the end

facing the door is the window, the bars of which have been taken down;
on the left a modern chimneypiece replaces the old one, and on the
right is the staircase, in good condition. The trap-door has disappeared
from under it, the cellar being abandoned as useless. On the first floor
as on the second, where the partitions have been removed, there are still
traces of them, with fragments of wall-paper. The very little daylight
that filters through the windows justifies Mme. Moisson's exclamation,
"It is a prison!" The platform, from which the view is very fine, has
been renewed, like the staircase. But from top to bottom all
corresponds with Moisson's description.
All that remained now was to find out