Letters on the French Revolution.
I have thought it best to throw into one chapter the extracts from
Mr. Jefferson's Letters and Memoir which relate to the scenes that
he witnessed at the beginning of the Revolution. These are so
interesting as almost to make us regret, with himself, that he should
have been recalled from France at that most fearfully interesting
period of her history. What pictures his pen would have preserved to
us of scenes, of many of which he would have been an eye-witness, and
how the student of history would revel in his dispatches home, which,
like those he has left us, must have abounded in interesting details
and sketches of character!
In giving these extracts, I shall merely indicate the date of the
letters, and the persons to whom they were addressed:
_To John Jay, February 23d, 1787._
The Assemblée des Notables being an event in the history of this
country which excites notice, I have supposed it would not be
disagreeable to you to learn its immediate objects, though no
way connected with our interests. The Assembly met yesterday;
the King, in a short but affectionate speech, informed them of
his wish to consult with them on the plans he had digested, and
on the general good of his people, and his desire to imitate
the head of his family, Henry IV., whose memory is so dear
to the nation. The Garde des Sceaux then spoke about twenty
minutes, chiefly in compliment to the orders present. The
Comptroller-general, in a speech of about an hour, opened the
budjet, and enlarged on the several subjects which will be under
their deliberation.
_To James Madison, June 20th, 1787._
The King loves business, economy, order, and justice, and wishes
sincerely the good of his people; but he is irascible, rude,
very limited in his understanding, and religious bordering
on bigotry. He has no mistress, loves his queen, and is too
much governed by her. She is capricious, like her brother,
and governed by him; devoted to pleasure and expense, and not
remarkable for any other vices or virtues. Unhappily, the King
shows a propensity for the pleasures of the table. That for
drink has increased lately, or, at least, it has become more
known.
_To John Jay, August 7th, 1787._
The Parliament were received yesterday very harshly by the
King. He obliged them to register the two edicts for the impôt,
territorial, and stamp-tax. When speaking in my letter of the
reiterated orders and refusals to register, which passed between
the King and Parliament, I omitted to insert the King's answer
to a deputation of Parliament, which attended him at Versailles.
It may serve to show the spirit which exists between them. It
was in these words, and these only: "Je vous ferai savoir mes
intentions. Allez-vous-en. Qu'on ferme la porte!"
_To John Adams, August 30th, 1787._
It is urged principally against the King, that his revenue
is one hundred and thirty millions more than that of his
predecessor was, and yet he demands one hundred and twenty
millions further.... In the mean time, all tongues in Paris
(and in France, as it is said) have been let loose, and never
was a license of speaking against the Government exercised in
London more freely or more universally. Caricatures, placards,
bons-mots, have been indulged in by all ranks of people, and
I know of no well-attested instance of a single punishment.
For some time mobs of ten, twenty, and thirty thousand people
collected daily, surrounded the Parliament-house, huzzaed the
members, even entered the doors and examined into their conduct,
took the horses out of the carriages of those who did well, and
drew them home. The Government thought it prudent to prevent
these, drew some regiments into the neighborhood, multiplied
the guards, had the streets constantly patrolled by strong
parties, suspended privileged places, forbade all clubs, etc.
The mobs have ceased: perhaps this may be partly owing to the
absence of Parliament. The Count d'Artois, sent to hold a bed
of justice in the Cour des Aides, was hissed and hooted without
reserve by the populace; the carriage of Madame de (I forget
the name), in the Queen's livery, was stopped by the populace,
under the belief that it was Madame de Polignac, whom they would
have insulted; the Queen going to the theatre at Versailles with
Madame de Polignac, was received with a general hiss. The King,
long in the habit of drowning his cares in wine, plunges deeper
and deeper. The Queen cries, but sins on. The Count d'Artois
is detested, and Monsieur the general favorite. The Archbishop
of Toulouse is made minister principal--a virtuous, patriotic,
and able character. The Marechal de Castries retired yesterday,
notwithstanding strong solicitations to remain in office. The
Marechal de Segur retired at the same time, prompted to it by
the court.
_To John Jay, October 8th, 1787._
There has long been a division in the Council here on the
question of war and peace. Monsieur de Montmorin and Monsieur
de Breteuil have been constantly for war. They are supported in
this by the Queen. The King goes for nothing. He hunts one-half
the day, is drunk the other, and signs whatever he is bid. The
Archbishop of Toulouse desires peace. Though brought in by the
Queen, he is opposed to her in this capital object, which would
produce an alliance with her brother. Whether the Archbishop
will yield or not, I know not. But an intrigue is already begun
for ousting him from his place, and it is rather probable it
will succeed. He is a good and patriotic minister for peace, and
very capable in the department of finance. At least, he is so in
theory. I have heard his talents for execution censured.
_To John Jay, November 3d, 1787._
It may not be uninstructive to give you the origin and nature
of his (the Archbishop of Toulouse) influence with the Queen.
When the Duke de Choiseul proposed the marriage of the Dauphin
with this lady, he thought it proper to send a person to Vienna
to perfect her in the language. He asked his friend, the
Archbishop of Toulouse, to recommend to him a proper person. He
recommended a certain Abbé. The Abbé, from his first arrival at
Vienna, either tutored by his patron or prompted by gratitude,
impressed on the Queen's mind the exalted talents and merit of
the Archbishop, and continually represented him as the only
man fit to be placed at the helm of affairs. On his return to
Paris, being retained near the person of the Queen, he kept
him constantly in her view. The Archbishop was named of the
Assemblée des Notables, had occasion enough there to prove
his talents, and Count de Vergennes, his great enemy, dying
opportunely, the Queen got him into place.
Writing to Mr. Jay on September 3d, 1788, Mr. Jefferson, after
alluding to the public bankruptcy and the moneyless condition of the
treasury, goes on to say:
_To John Jay, September 3d, 1788._
The Archbishop was hereupon removed, with Monsieur Lambert,
the Comptroller-general; and M. Necker was called in as
Director-general of the finance. To soften the Archbishop's
dismission, a cardinal's hat is asked for him from Rome, and
his nephew promised the succession to the Archbishopric of
Sens. The public joy on this change of administration was very
great indeed. The people of Paris were amusing themselves with
trying and burning the Archbishop in effigy, and rejoicing in
the appointment of M. Necker. The commanding officer of the
City Guards undertook to forbid this, and, not being obeyed, he
charged the mob with fixed bayonets, killed two or three, and
wounded many. This stopped their rejoicings for that day; but,
enraged at being thus obstructed in amusements wherein they had
committed no disorder whatever, they collected in great numbers
the next day, attacked the Guards in various places, burnt ten
or twelve guard-houses, killed two or three of the guards, and
had about six or eight of their own number killed. The city was
hereupon put under martial law, and after a while the tumult
subsided, and peace was restored.
_To George Washington, December 21st, 1788._
In my opinion, a kind of influence which none of their plans
of reform take into account, will elude them all--I mean the
influence of women in the Government. The manners of the
nation allow them to visit, alone, all persons in office, to
solicit the affairs of the husband, family, or friends, and
their solicitations bid defiance to laws and regulations. This
obstacle may seem less to those who, like our countrymen, are
in the precious habit of considering right as a barrier against
all solicitation. Nor can such an one, without the evidence of
his own eyes, believe in the desperate state to which things are
reduced in this country, from the omnipotence of an influence
which, fortunately for the happiness of the sex itself, does not
endeavor to extend itself, in our country, beyond the domestic
line.
_To Colonel Humphreys, March 18th, 1789._
The change in this country, since you left it, is such as you
can form no idea of. The frivolities of conversation have given
way entirely to politics. Men, women, and children talk nothing
else; and all, you know, talk a great deal. The press groans
with daily productions which, in point of boldness, make an
Englishman stare, who hitherto has thought himself the boldest
of men. A complete revolution in this Government has, within the
space of two years (for it began with the Notables of 1787),
been effected merely by the force of public opinion, aided,
indeed, by the want of money, which the dissipations of the
court had brought on. And this revolution has not cost a single
life, unless we charge to it a little riot lately in Bretagne,
which began about the price of bread, became afterwards
political, and ended in the loss of four or five lives. The
Assembly of the States General begins the 27th of April. The
representation of the people will be perfect; but they will
be alloyed by an equal number of the nobility and clergy. The
first great question they will have to decide will be, whether
they shall vote by orders or persons. And I have hopes that the
majority of the nobles are already disposed to join the Tiers
Etat in deciding that the vote shall be by persons. This is the
opinion _à la mode_ at present, and mode has acted a wonderful
part in the present instance. All the handsome young women,
for example, are for the Tiers Etat, and this is an army more
powerful in France than the two hundred thousand men of the King.
_To William Carmichael, May 8th, 1789._
The States General were opened day before yesterday. Viewing
it as an opera, it was imposing; as a scene of business, the
King's speech was exactly what it should have been, and very
well delivered; not a word of the Chancellor's was heard by any
body, so that, as yet, I have never heard a single guess at
what it was about. M. Necker's was as good as such a number of
details would permit it to be. The picture of their resources
was consoling, and generally plausible. I could have wished him
to have dwelt more on those great constitutional reformations,
which his "Rapport au Roi" had prepared us to expect. But they
observe that these points were proper for the speech of the
Chancellor.
_To John Jay, May 9th, 1789._
The revolution of this country has advanced thus far without
encountering any thing which deserves to be called a difficulty.
There have been riots in a few instances, in three or four
different places, in which there may have been a dozen or twenty
lives lost. The exact truth is not to be got at. A few days
ago a much more serious riot took place in this city, in which
it became necessary for the troops to engage in regular action
with the mob, and probably about one hundred of the latter were
killed. Accounts vary from twenty to two hundred. They were the
most abandoned banditti of Paris, and never was a riot more
unprovoked and unpitied. They began, under a pretense that a
paper manufacturer had proposed, in an assembly, to reduce their
wages to fifteen sous a day. They rifled his house, destroyed
every thing in his magazines and shops, and were only stopped in
their career of mischief by the carnage above mentioned. Neither
this nor any other of the riots have had a professed connection
with the great national reformation going on. They are such as
have happened every year since I have been here, and as will
continue to be produced by common incidents.
In the same letter, in speaking of the King, he says:
Happy that he is an honest, unambitious man, who desires neither
money nor power for himself; and that his most operative
minister, though he has appeared to trim a little, is still, in
the main, a friend to public liberty.
In a letter to Mr. Jay, June 17, 1789, after alluding to the
continued disagreement between the orders composing the States
General, as to whether they should vote by persons or orders, he says:
_To John Jay, June 17th, 1789._
The Noblesse adhered to their former resolutions, and even the
minority, well disposed to the Commons, thought they could do
more good in their own chamber, by endeavoring to increase
their numbers and fettering the measures of the majority, than
by joining the Commons. An intrigue was set on foot between
the leaders of the majority in that House, the Queen and
Princes. They persuaded the King to go for some time to Marly;
he went. On the same day the leaders moved, in the Chamber of
Nobles, that they should address the King to declare his own
sentiments on the great question between the orders. It was
intended that this address should be delivered to him at Marly,
where, separated from his ministers, and surrounded by the
Queen and Princes, he might be surprised into a declaration
for the Nobles. The motion was lost, however, by a very great
majority, that Chamber being not yet quite ripe for throwing
themselves into the arms of despotism. Necker and Monmorin, who
had discovered this intrigue, had warned some of the minority to
defeat it, or they could not answer for what would happen....
The Commons (Tiers Etat) having verified their powers, a motion
was made, the day before yesterday, to declare themselves
constituted, and to proceed to business. I left them at two
o'clock yesterday; the debates not then finished....
It is a tremendous cloud, indeed, which hovers over this nation,
and he (Necker) at the helm has neither the courage nor the
skill necessary to weather it. Eloquence in a high degree,
knowledge in matters of account, and order, are distinguishing
traits in his character. Ambition is his first passion, virtue
his second. He has not discovered that sublime truth, that a
bold, unequivocal virtue is the best handmaid even to ambition,
and would carry him farther, in the end, than the temporizing,
wavering policy he pursues. His judgment is not of the first
order, scarcely even of the second; his resolution frail; and,
upon the whole, it is rare to meet an instance of a person so
much below the reputation he has obtained.
_To John Jay, June 24th, 1789._
My letter of the 17th and 18th instant gave you the progress of
the States General to the 17th, when the Tiers had declared the
illegality of all the existing taxes, and their discontinuance
from the end of their present session. The next day being a jour
de fête, could furnish no indication of the impression that vote
was likely to make on the Government. On the 19th, a Council was
held at Marly, in the afternoon. It was there proposed that the
King should interpose by a declaration of his sentiments in a
_seance royale_. The declaration prepared by M. Necker, while
it censured, in general, the proceedings both of the Nobles and
Commons, announced the King's views, such as substantially to
coincide with the Commons. It was agreed to in Council, as also
that the _seance royale_ should be held on the 22d, and the
meetings till then be suspended. While the Council was engaged
in this deliberation at Marly, the Chamber of the Clergy was in
debate, whether they should accept the invitation of the Tiers
to unite with them in the common chamber. On the first question,
to unite simply and unconditionally, it was decided in the
negative by a very small majority. As it was known, however,
that some members who had voted in the negative would be for the
affirmative, with some modifications, the question was put with
these modifications, and it was determined, by a majority of
eleven members, that their body should join the Tiers.
These proceedings of the Clergy were unknown to the Council at
Marly, and those of the Council were kept secret from every
body. The next morning (the 20th) the members repaired to
the House, as usual, found the doors shut and guarded, and
a proclamation posted up for holding a _seance royale_ on
the 22d, and a suspension of their meetings till then. They
presumed, in the first moment, that their dissolution was
decided, and repaired to another place, where they proceeded to
business. They there bound themselves to each other by an oath
never to separate of their own accord till they had settled a
Constitution for the nation on a solid basis, and, if separated
by force, that they would reassemble in some other place. It
was intimated to them, however, that day, privately, that the
proceedings of the _seance royale_ would be favorable to them.
The next day they met in a church, and were joined by a majority
of the Clergy. The heads of the aristocracy saw that all was
lost without some violent exertion. The King was still at Marly.
Nobody was permitted to approach him but their friends. He was
assailed by lies in all shapes. He was made to believe that
the Commons were going to absolve the army from their oath of
fidelity to him, and to raise their pay.... They procured a
committee to be held, consisting of the King and his ministers,
to which Monsieur and the Count d'Artois should be admitted.
At this committee the latter attacked M. Necker personally,
arraigned his plans, and proposed one which some of his engines
had put into his hands. M. Necker, whose characteristic is the
want of firmness, was browbeaten and intimidated, and the King
shaken.
He determined that the two plans should be deliberated on the
next day, and the _seance royale_ put off a day longer. This
encouraged a fiercer attack on M. Necker the next day; his plan
was totally dislocated, and that of the Count d'Artois inserted
into it. Himself and Monsieur de Montmorin offered their
resignation, which was refused; the Count d'Artois saying to M.
Necker, "No, Sir, you must be kept as the hostage; we hold you
responsible for all the ill which shall happen." This change of
plan was immediately whispered without doors. The nobility were
in triumph, the people in consternation. When the King passed,
the next day, through the lane they formed from the Château
to the Hôtel des Etats (about half a mile), there was a dead
silence. He was about an hour in the House delivering his speech
and declaration, copies of which I inclose you. On his coming
out, a feeble cry of "Vive le Roi" was raised by some children,
but the people remained silent and sullen. When the Duke of
Orleans followed, however, their applauses were excessive. This
must have been sensible to the King. He had ordered, in the
close of his speech, that the members should follow him, and
resume their deliberations the next day. The Noblesse followed
him, and so did the Clergy, except about thirty, who, with the
Tiers, remained in the room and entered into deliberation. They
protested against what the King had done, adhered to all their
former proceedings, and resolved the inviolability of their own
persons. An officer came twice to order them out of the room, in
the King's name, but they refused to obey.
In the afternoon, the people, uneasy, began to assemble in great
numbers in the courts and vicinities of the palace. The Queen
was alarmed, and sent for M. Necker. He was conducted amidst the
shouts and acclamations of the multitude, who filled all the
apartments of the palace. He was a few minutes only with the
Queen, and about three-quarters of an hour with the King. Not a
word has transpired of what passed at these interviews. The King
was just going to ride out. He passed through the crowd to his
carriage, and into it, without being in the least noticed. As
M. Necker followed him, universal acclamations were raised of
"Vive Monsieur Necker, vive le sauveur de la France opprimée."
He was conducted back to his house with the same demonstrations
of affection and anxiety.... These circumstances must wound the
heart of the King, desirous as he is to possess the affections
of his subjects....
_June 25th._--Just returned from Versailles, I am enabled to
continue my narration. On the 24th nothing remarkable passed,
except an attack by the mob of Versailles on the Archbishop of
Paris, who had been one of the instigators of the court to the
proceedings of the _seance royale_. They threw mud and stones
at his carriage, broke the windows of it, and he in a fright
promised to join the Tiers.
_To John Jay, June 29th, 1789._
I have before mentioned to you the ferment into which the
proceedings at the _seance royale_ of the 23d had thrown the
people. The soldiery also were affected by it. It began in the
French Guards, extended to those of every other denomination
(except the Swiss), and even to the bodyguards of the King. They
began to quit their barracks, to assemble in squads, to declare
they would defend the life of the King, but would not cut the
throats of their fellow-citizens. They were treated and caressed
by the people, carried in triumph through the streets, called
themselves the soldiers of the nation, and left no doubt on
which side they would be in case of a rupture.
In his Memoir Jefferson writes, in allusion to the spirit among the
soldiery above noticed:
_Extract from Memoir._
The operation of this medicine at Versailles was as sudden
as it was powerful. The alarm there was so complete, that in
the afternoon of the 27th the King wrote, with his own hand,
letters to the Presidents of the Clergy and Nobles, engaging
them immediately to join the Tiers. These two bodies were
debating and hesitating, when notes from the Count d'Artois
decided their compliance. They went in a body, and took their
seats with the Tiers, and thus rendered the union of the orders
in one Chamber complete.... But the quiet of their march was
soon disturbed by information that troops, and particularly the
foreign troops, were advancing on Paris from various quarters.
The King had probably been advised to this, on the pretext of
preserving peace in Paris. But his advisers were believed to
have other things in contemplation. The Marshal de Broglio was
appointed to their command--a high-flying aristocrat, cool, and
capable of every thing. Some of the French Guards were soon
arrested under other pretexts, but really on account of their
dispositions in favor of the national cause. The people of Paris
forced their prison, liberated them, and sent a deputation to
the Assembly to solicit a pardon. The Assembly recommended peace
and order to the people of Paris, the prisoners to the King,
and asked from him the removal of the troops. His answer was
negative and dry, saying they might remove themselves, if they
pleased, to Noyons or Soissons. In the mean time, these troops,
to the number of twenty or thirty thousand, had arrived, and
were posted in and between Paris and Versailles. The bridges
and passes were guarded. At three o'clock in the afternoon of
the 11th of July, the Count de la Luzerne was sent to notify M.
Necker of his dismission, and to enjoin him to retire instantly,
without saying a word of it to any body. He went home, dined,
and proposed to his wife a visit to a friend, but went in fact
to his country-house at St. Ouen, and at midnight set out for
Brussels. This was not known till the next day (the 12th), when
the whole ministry was changed, except Villederril, of the
domestic department, and Barenton, Garde des Sceaux....
The news of this change began to be known at Paris about one
or two o'clock. In the afternoon a body of about one hundred
German cavalry were advanced and drawn up in the Place Louis
XV., and about two hundred Swiss posted at a little distance in
their rear. This drew people to the spot, who thus accidentally
found themselves in front of the troops, merely at first as
spectators; but, as their numbers increased, their indignation
rose. They retired a few steps, and posted themselves on and
behind large piles of stones, large and small, collected in
that place for a bridge, which was to be built adjacent to it.
In this position, happening to be in my carriage on a visit, I
passed through the lane they had formed without interruption.
But the moment after I had passed the people attacked the
cavalry with stones. They charged, but the advantageous position
of the people, and the showers of stones, obliged the horses
to retire and quit the field altogether, leaving one of their
number on the ground, and the Swiss in their rear not moving to
their aid. This was the signal for universal insurrection, and
this body of cavalry, to avoid being massacred, retired towards
Versailles.
After describing the events of the 13th and 14th, and of the
imperfect report of them which reached the King, he says:
But at night the Duke de Liancourt forced his way into the
King's bed-chamber, and obliged him to hear a full and animated
detail of the disasters of the day in Paris. He went to bed
fearfully impressed.
After alluding to the demolition of the Bastile, he says:
The alarm at Versailles increased. The foreign troops were
ordered off instantly. Every minister resigned. The King
confirmed Bailly as Prévôt des Marchands, wrote to M. Necker
to recall him, sent his letter open to the Assembly, to be
forwarded by them, and invited them to go with him to Paris
the next day, to satisfy the city of his dispositions. [Then
comes a list of the Court favorites who fled that night.] The
King came to Paris, leaving the Queen in consternation for his
return. Omitting the less important figures of the procession,
the King's carriage was in the centre; on each side of it, the
Assembly, in two ranks, afoot; at their head the Marquis de
Lafayette, as commander-in-chief, on horseback, and Bourgeois
guards before and behind. About sixty thousand citizens, of
all forms and conditions, armed with the conquests of the
Bastile and Invalides, as far as they would go, the rest with
pistols, swords, pikes, pruning-hooks, scythes, etc., lined all
the streets through which the procession passed, and with the
crowds of the people in the streets, doors, and windows, saluted
them everywhere with the cries of "Vive la nation," but not a
single "Vive le roi" was heard. The King stopped at the Hôtel
de Ville. There M. Bailly presented, and put into his hat, the
popular cockade, and addressed him. The King being unprepared,
and unable to answer, Bailly went to him, gathered some scraps
of sentences, and made out an answer, which he delivered to the
audience as from the King. On their return, the popular cries
were, "Vive le roi et la nation!" He was conducted by a garde
Bourgeoise to his palace at Versailles, and thus concluded such
an "amende honorable" as no sovereign ever made, and no people
ever received.
After speaking of the precious occasion that was here lost, of
sparing to France the crimes and cruelties through which she
afterwards passed, and of the good disposition of the young King, he
says:
But he had a queen of absolute sway over his weak mind and timid
virtue, and of a character the reverse of his in all points.
This angel, so gaudily painted in the rhapsodies of Burke,
with some smartness of fancy but no sound sense, was proud,
disdainful of restraint, indignant at all obstacles to her will,
eager in the pursuit of pleasure, and firm enough to hold to
her desires, or perish in their wreck. Her inordinate gambling
and dissipations, with those of the Count d'Artois and others
of her _clique_, had been a sensible item in the exhaustion of
the treasury, which called into action the reforming hand of the
nation; and her opposition to it, her inflexible perverseness,
and dauntless spirit, led herself to the guillotine, drew
the King on with her, and plunged the world into crimes and
calamities which will forever stain the pages of modern history.
I have ever believed that, had there been no queen, there would
have been no revolution. No force would have been provoked
nor exercised. The King would have gone hand in hand with the
wisdom of his sounder counsellors, who, guided by the increased
lights of the age, wished only with the same pace to advance the
principles of their social constitution. The deed which closed
the mortal course of these sovereigns I shall neither approve
nor condemn. I am not prepared to say that the first magistrate
of a nation can not commit treason against his country, or is
unamenable to its punishment; nor yet that, where there is no
written law, no regulated tribunal, there is not a law in our
hearts and a power in our hands, given for righteous employment
in maintaining right and redressing wrong....
I should have shut up the Queen in a convent, putting harm out
of her power, and placed the King in his station, investing
him with limited powers, which, I verily believe, he would
have honestly exercised, according to the measure of his
understanding.
After giving further details, he goes on to say:
In this uneasy state of things, I received one day a note from
the Marquis de Lafayette, informing me that he should bring a
party of six or eight friends to ask a dinner of me the next
day. I assured him of their welcome. When they arrived they were
Lafayette himself, Duport, Barnave, Alexander la Meth, Blacon,
Mounier, Maubourg, and Dagout. These were leading patriots of
honest but differing opinions, sensible of the necessity of
effecting a coalition by mutual sacrifices, knowing each other,
and not afraid, therefore, to unbosom themselves mutually. This
last was a material principle in the selection. With this view
the Marquis had invited the conference, and had fixed the time
and place inadvertently, as to the embarrassment under which
it might place me. The cloth being removed, and wine set on
the table, after the American manner, the Marquis introduced
the objects of the conference.... The discussions began at
the hour of four, and were continued till ten o'clock in the
evening; during which time I was a silent witness to a coolness
and candor of argument unusual in the conflicts of political
opinion--to a logical reasoning and chaste eloquence disfigured
by no gaudy tinsel of rhetoric or declamation, and truly worthy
of being placed in parallel with the finest dialogues of
antiquity, as handed to us by Xenophon, by Plato, and Cicero....
But duties of exculpation were now incumbent on me. I waited on
Count Montmorin the next morning, and explained to him, with
truth and candor, how it had happened that my house had been
made the scene of conferences of such a character. He told me
he already knew every thing which had passed; that, so far from
taking umbrage at the use made of my house on that occasion, he
earnestly wished I would habitually assist at such conferences,
being sure I should be useful in moderating the warmer spirits,
and promoting a wholesome and practicable reformation.
Nothing of further interest as regards the French Revolution appears
in Jefferson's Memoir.