The road was covered with troops and guns, which my father passed
in review at Castelnaudary. This spectacle, which a few days earlier
would have delighted me, now failed to lessen the anxiety which I
felt about the teachers in whose presence I was about to find myself.

We stayed overnight at Castelnaudary, where my father learned of
the evacuation of Toulon by the English (18th Dec 1793), and was
ordered to go with his division, to the eastern Pyrenees. Whereupon
he decided to deposit us, the very next day, at Sorèze, to stay there
for a few hours only, and to set off immediately for Perpignon.

On leaving Castelnaudary, my father ordered the coach to stop at a
famous tree under which the Constable Montmorency had been taken
prisoner by the troops of Louis XIII, following the defeat of the
supporters of Gaston d'Orléans, who had rebelled against his brother.
He chatted about this event with his aides-de-camp, and my brother--
who was already well informed--took part in the conversation. As
for me, I had only the vaguest notions of the general history of
France and knew nothing of the details. It was the first time I had
heard of the battle of Castelnaudary, of Gaston, of his revolt and of
the capture and execution of the Constable de Montmorency. I
realised that my father did not ask me any question on the subject
because he was quite certain that I would be unable to reply. This
made me feel ashamed, and I concluded that my father was right in
taking
me to the college to be educated. My regrets then changed
into a resolution to learn all that I needed to know.

Nevertheless, my heart sank at the sight of the high sombre walls
of the cloister in which I was to be enclosed. I was eleven years