The events of Paris which are any way remarkable are so generally

circulated, that I do not often mention them, unless to mark their effect

on the provinces; but you will be so much misled by the public papers

with regard to the death of Marat, that I think it necessary to notice

the subject while it is yet recent in my memory. Were the clubs, the

Convention, or the sections of Paris to be regarded as expressing the

sense of the people, the assassination of this turbulent journalist must

be considered being the case, that the departments are for the most part,

if not rejoiced, indifferent--and many of those who impute to him the

honour of martyrdom, or assist at his apotheosis, are much better

satisfied both with his christian and heathen glories, than they were

while he was living to propagate anarchy and pillage. The reverence of

the Convention itself is a mere political pantomime. Within the last

twelve months nearly all the individuals who compose it have treated

Marat with contempt; and I perfectly remember even Danton, one of the

members of the Committee of Salut Publique, accusing him of being a

contre revolutionnaire.

But the people, to use a popular expression here, require to be

electrified.--St. Fargeau is almost forgotten, and Marat is to serve the

same purposes when dead, to which he contributed while living.--An

extreme grossness and want of feeling form the characteristic feature of

the Parisians; they are ignorant, credulous, and material, and the

Convention do not fail on all occasions to avail themselves of these

qualities. The corpse of Marat decently enclosed in a coffin would have

made little impression, and it was not pity, but revenge, which was to be

excited. The disgusting object of a dead leper was therefore exposed to

the eyes of a metropolis calling itself the most refined and enlightened

of all Europe--

"And what t'oblivion better were consign'd,

Is hung on high to poison half mankind."

I know not whether these lines are most applicable to the display of

Marat's body, or the consecration of his fame, but both will be a lasting

stigma on the manners and morals of Paris.

If the departments, however, take no interest in the loss of Marat, the

young woman who assassinated him has created a very lively one. The

slightest anecdotes concerning her are collected with avidity, and

repeated with admiration; and this is a still farther proof of what you

have heard me advance, that neither patriotism nor humanity has an

abundant growth in this country. The French applaud an act in itself

horrid and unjustifiable, while they have scarcely any conception of the

motive, and such a sacrifice seems to them something supernatural.--The

Jacobins assert, that Charlotte Corday was an emissary of the allied

powers, or, rather, of Mr. Pitt; and the Parisians have the complaisance

to believe, that a young woman could devote herself to certain

destruction at the instigation of another, as though the same principles

which would lead a person to undertake a diplomatic commission, would

induce her to meet death.

I wrote some days ago to a lady of my acquaintance at Caen, to beg she

would procure me some information relative to this extraordinary female,

and I subjoin an extract of her answer, which I have just received:

"Miss Corday was a native of this department, and had, from her earliest

years, been very carefully educated by an aunt who lives at Caen. Before

she was twenty she had decided on taking the veil, and her noviciate was

just expired when the Constituent Assembly interdicted all religious vows

for the future: she then left the convent, and resided entirely with her

aunt. The beauty of her person, and particularly her mental

acquisitions, which were superior to that of French women in general,

rendered an object of much admiration. She spoke uncommonly well, and

her discourse often turned on the ancients, and on such subjects as

indicated that masculine turn of mind which has since proved so fatal to

her. Perhaps her conversation was a little tinctured with that pedantry

not unjustly attributed to our sex when they have a little more knowledge

than usual, but, at the same time, not in such a degree as to render it

unpleasant. She seldom gave any opinion on the revolution, but

frequently attended the municipalities to solicit the pensions of the

expelled religious, or on any other occasion where she could be useful to

her friends. On the arrival of Petion, Barbaroux, and others of the

Brissotin faction, she began to frequent the clubs, and to take a more

lively interest in political affairs. Petion, and Barbaroux especially,

seemed to be much respected by her. It was even said, she had a tender

partiality for the latter; but this I believe is untrue.--I dined with

her at her aunt's on the Sunday previous to her departure for Paris.

Nothing very remarkable appeared in her behaviour, except that she was

much affected by a muster of the recruits who were to march against

Paris, and seemed to think many lives might be lost on the occasion,

without obtaining any relief for the country.--On the Tuesday following

she left Caen, under pretext of visiting her father, who lives at Sens.

Her aunt accompanied her to the gate of the town, and the separation was

extremely sorrowful on both sides. The subsequent events are too well

known to need recital."

On her trial, and at her execution, Miss Corday was firm and modest;

and I have been told, that in her last moments her whole figure was

interesting beyond description. She was tall, well formed, and

beautiful--her eyes, especially, were fine and expressive--even her dress

was not neglected, and a simple white dishabille added to the charms of

this self-devoted victim. On the whole, it is not possible to ascertain

precisely the motives which determined her to assassinate Marat. Her

letter to Barbaroux expresses nothing but republican sentiments; yet it

is difficult to conceive that a young woman, who had voluntarily embraced

the life of a cloister, could be really of this way of thinking.--I

cannot but suppose her connection with the Deputies arose merely from an

idea that they might be the instruments of restoring the abolished

government, and her profession of republican principles after she was

arrested might probably be with a view of saving Duperret, and others of

the party, who were still in the power of the Convention.--Her selection

of Marat still remains to be accounted for. He was, indeed, the most

violent of the Jacobins, but not the most dangerous, and the death of

several others might have been more serviceable to the cause. Marat was,

however, the avowed persecutor of priests and religion, and if we

attribute any influence to Miss Corday's former habits, we may suppose

them to have had some share in the choice of her victim. Her refusal of

the ministry of a constitutional priest at the scaffold strengthens this

opinion. We pay a kind of involuntary tribute of admiration to such

firmness of mind in a young and beautiful woman; and I do not recollect

that history has transmitted any thing parallel to the heroism of

Charlotte Corday. Love, revenge, and ambition, have often sacrificed

their victims, and sustained the courage of their voluntaries under

punishment; but a female, animated by no personal motives, sensible only

to the misfortunes of her country, patriotic both from feeling and

reflection, and sacrificing herself from principle, is singular in the

annals of human nature.--Yet, after doing justice to such an instance of

fortitude and philanthropic devotion, I cannot but sincerely lament the

act to which it has given rise. At a time when so many spirits are

irritated by despair and oppression, the example may be highly

pernicious, and a cause, however good, must always be injured by the use

of such means in its support.--Nothing can sanctify an assassination; and

were not the French more vindictive than humane, the crimes of the

republican party would find a momentary refuge in this injudicious effort

to punish them.

My friend La Marquise de ____ has left Paris, and is now at Peronne,

where she has engaged me to pass a few weeks with her; so that my next

will most probably be dated from thence.--Mr. D____ is endeavouring to

get a passport for England. He begins to regret having remained here.

His temper, naturally impatient of restraint, accords but ill with the

portion of liberty enjoyed by our republicans. Corporal privations and

mental interdictions multiply so fast, that irritable people like

himself, and valetudinarians like Mrs. C____ and me, could not choose a

worse residence; and, as we are now unanimous on the subject, I hope soon

to leave the country.--There is, as you observe in your last, something

of indolence as well as friendship in my having so long remained here;

but if actions were always analyzed so strictly, and we were not allowed

to derive a little credit from our weaknesses, how many great characters

would be reduced to the common level. Voltaire introduced a sort of rage

for anecdotes, and for tracing all events to trifling causes, which has

done much more towards exploding the old-fashioned system or the dignity

of human nature than the dry maxims of Rochefaucault, the sophisms of

Mandeville, or even the malicious wit of Swift. This is also another

effect of the progress of philosophy; and this sort of moral Quixotism,

continually in search of evil, and more gratified in discovering it than

pained by its existence, may be very philosophical; but it is at least

gloomy and discouraging; and we may be permitted to doubt whether mankind

become wiser or better by learning, that those who have been most

remarkable either for wisdom or virtue were occasionally under the

influence of the same follies and passions as other people.--Your

uncharitable discernment, you see, has led me into a digression, and I

have, without intending it, connected the motives of my stay with

reflections on Voltaire's General History, Barillon's Letters, and all

the secret biography of our modern libraries. This, you will say, is

only a chapter of a "man's importance to himself;" but public affairs are

now so confused and disgusting, that we are glad to encourage any train

of ideas not associated with them.

The Commissioners I gave you some account of in a former letter are

departed, and we have lately had Chabot, an Ex-capuchin, and a patriot of

special note in the Convention, and one Dumont, an attorney of a

neighbouring village. They are, like all the rest of these missionaries,

entrusted with unlimited powers, and inspire apprehension and dismay

wherever they approach.

The Garde Nationale of Amiens are not yet entirely subdued to the times,

and Chabot gave some hints of a project to disarm them, and actually

attempted to arrest some of their officers; but, apprized of his design,

they remained two nights under arms, and the Capuchin, who is not

martially inclined, was so alarmed at this indication of resistance,

that he has left the town with more haste than ceremony.--He had, in an

harangue at the cathedral, inculcated some very edifying doctrines on the

division of property and the right of pillage; and it is not improbable,

had he not withdrawn, but the Amienois would have ventured, on this

pretext, to arrest him. Some of them contrived, in spite of the centinel

placed at the lodging of these great men, to paste up on the door two

figures, with the names of Chabot and Dumont; in the "fatal position of

the unfortunate brave;" and though certain events in the lives of these

Deputies may have rendered this perspective of their last moments not

absolutely a novelty, yet I do not recollect that Akenside, or any other

author, has enumerated a gibbet amongst the objects, which, though not

agreeable in themselves, may be reconciled to the mind by familiarity.

I wish, therefore, our representatives may not, in return for this

admonitory portrait of their latter end, draw down some vengeance on the

town, not easily to be appeased. I am no astrologer, but in our

sublunary world the conjunction of an attorney and a renegade monk cannot

present a fortunate aspect; and I am truly anxious to find myself once

again under the more benign influence of your English hemisphere.--Yours.

Peronne, July 29, 1793.

Every attempt to obtain passports has been fruitless, and, with that sort

of discontented resignation which is the effect of necessity, I now look

upon myself as fixed here till the peace. I left Mr. and Mrs. D____

yesterday morning, the disappointment operating upon them in full force.

The former takes longer walks than usual, breaks out in philippics

against tyrannies of all kinds, and swears ten times a day that the

French are the most noisy people upon earth--the latter is vexed, and,

for that reason, fancies she is ill, and calculates, with great

ingenuity, all the hazard and inconvenience we may be liable to by

remaining here. I hope, on my return, to find them more reconciled.

At Villars de Bretonne, on my road hither, some people told me, with

great gaiety, that the English had made a descent on the coast of

Picardy. Such a report (for I did not suppose it possible) during the

last war would have made me tremble, but I heard this without alarm,

having, in no instance, seen the people take that kind of interest in

public events which formerly made a residence in France unpleasant to an

individual of an hostile nation. It is not that they are become more

liberal, or better informed--no change of this kind has been discovered

even by the warmest advocates of the revolution; but they are more

indifferent, and those who are not decidedly the enemies of the present

government, for the most part concern themselves as little about the

events of the war, as though it were carried on in the South Sea.

I fear I should risk an imputation on my veracity, were I to describe the

extreme ignorance and inattention of the French with respect to public

men and measures. They draw no conclusions from the past, form no

conjectures for the future, and, after exclaiming "Il ne peut pas durer

comme cela," they, with a resignation which is certainly neither pious

nor philosophic, leave the rest to the agency of Providence.--Even those

who are more informed so bewilder themselves in the politics of Greece

and Rome, that they do not perceive how little these are applicable to

their own country. Indeed, it should seem that no modern age or people

is worthy the knowledge of a Frenchman.--I have often remarked, in the

course of our correspondence, how little they are acquainted with what

regards England or the English; and scarcely a day passes that I have not

occasion to make the same observation.

My conductor hither, who is a friend of Mad. de T____, and esteemed "bien

instruit," was much surprized when I told him that the population and

size of London exceeded that of Paris--that we had good fruit, and better

vegetables than were to be found in many parts of France. I saw that he

suspected my veracity, and there is always on these occasions such a

decided and impenetrable incredulity in a Frenchman as precludes all

hopes of convincing him. He listens with a sort of self-sufficient

complacence which tells you he does not consider your assertions as any

thing more than the exaggerations of national vanity, but that his

politeness does not allow him to contradict you. I know nothing more

disgustingly impertinent than his ignorance, which intrenches itself

behind the forms of civility, and, affecting to decline controversy,

assumes the merit of forbearance and moderation: yet this must have been

often observed by every one who has lived much in French society: for the

first emotion of a Frenchman, on hearing any thing which tends to place

another country on an equality with France, is doubt--this doubt is

instantly reinforced by vanity--and, in a few seconds, he is perfectly

satisfied that the thing is impossible.

One must be captious indeed to object to this, did it arise from that

patriotic feeling so common in the English; but here it is all vanity,

downright vanity: a Frenchman must have his country and his mistress

admired, though he does not often care much for either one or the other.

I have been in various parts of France in the most critical periods of

the revolution--I have conversed with people of all parties and of all

ranks--and I assert, that I have never yet met but with one man who had a

grain of real patriotism. If the Athenian law were adopted which doomed

all to death who should be indifferent to the public welfare in a time of

danger, I fear there would be a woeful depopulation here, even among the

loudest champions of democracy.

It is not thirty miles from Amiens to Peronne, yet a journey of thirty

miles is not now to be undertaken inconsiderately; the horses are so much

worked, and so ill fed, that few perform such a distance without rest and

management. If you wish to take others, and continue your route, you

cannot, or if you wait while your own horses are refreshed, as a reward

for your humanity you get starved yourself. Bread being very scarce, no

family can get more than sufficient for its own consumption, and those

who travel without first supplying themselves, do it at the risk of

finding none on the road.

Peronne is chiefly remarkable in history for never having been taken, and

for a tower where Louis XI. was confined for a short time, after being

outwitted in a manner somewhat surprizing for a Monarch who piqued

himself on his talents for intrigue, by Charles le Temeraire, Duke of

Burgundy. It modern reputation, arises from its election of the Abbe

Maury for its representative, and for entertaining political principles

every way analogous to such a choice.

I found the Marquise much altered in her person, and her health much

impaired, by the frequent alarms and continual apprehensions she had been

subject to at Paris. Fortunately she has no imputation against her but

her rank and fortune, for she is utterly guiltless of all political

opinions; so that I hope she will be suffered to knit stockings, tend her

birds and dogs, and read romances in peace.--Yours, &c. &c.

August 1, 1793.

When the creation of assignats was first proposed, much ingenuity was

employed in conjecturing, and much eloquence displayed in expatiating

upon, the various evils that might result from them; yet the genius of

party, however usually successful in gloomy perspective, did not at that

time imagine half the inconvenience this measure was fraught with. It

was easy, indeed, to foresee, that an immense circulation of paper, like

any other currency, must augment the price of every thing; but the

excessive discredit of the assignats, operating accessarily to their

quantity, has produced a train of collateral effects of greater magnitude

than even those that were originally apprehended. Within the last twelve

months the whole country are become monopolizers--the desire of realizing

has so possessed all degrees of people, that there is scarcely an article

of consumption which is not bought up and secreted. One would really

suppose that nothing was perishable but the national credit--the

nobleman, the merchant, the shopkeeper, all who have assignats, engage in

these speculations, and the necessities of our dissipated heirs do not

drive them to resources for obtaining money more whimsical than the

commerce now practised here to get rid of it. I know a beau who has

converted his _hypotheque_ [Mortgage.] on the national domains into train

oil, and a General who has given these "airy nothings" the substance and

form of hemp and leather!*

* In the late rage for monopolies in France, a person who had

observed the vast daily consumption of onions, garlic, and

eschalots, conceived the project of making the whole district of

Amiens tributary for this indispensible article. In consequence, he

attended several market-days, and purchased all that came in his

way. The country people finding a ready sale for their onions,

poured in from all quarters, and our projector found that, in

proportion as he bought, the market became more profusely supplied,

and that the commodity he had hoped to monopolize was inexhaustible.

Goods purchased from such motives are not as you may conceive sold till

the temptation of an exorbitant profit seduces the proprietor to risk a

momentary possession of assignats, which are again disposed of in a

similar way. Thus many necessaries of life are withdrawn from

circulation, and when a real scarcity ensues, they are produced to the

people, charged with all the accumulated gains of these intermediate

barters.

This illiberal and pernicious commerce, which avarice and fear have for

some time kept in great activity, has at length attracted the notice of

the Convention, and very severe laws are now enacted against monopolies

of all kinds. The holder of any quantity of merchandize beyond what he

may be supposed to consume is obliged to declare it to his municipality,

and to expose the articles he deals in in writing over his door. These

clauses, as well as every other part of the decree, seem very wise and

equitable; but I doubt if the severity of the punishment annexed to any

transgression of it will not operate so as to defeat the purposes

intended to be produced. A false declaration is punishable by six years

imprisonment, and an absolute non-compliance with death.--Blackstone

remarks, that it is the certainty, not the severity, of punishment, which

makes laws efficacious; and this must ever be the case amongst an humane

people.--An inordinate desire of gain is not often considered by mankind

as very criminal, and those who would willingly subject it to its

adequate punishment of fine and confiscation, will hesitate to become the

means of inflicting death on the offender, or of depriving him of his

liberty. The Poets have, from time immemorial, claimed a kind of

exclusive jurisdiction over the sin of avarice: but, unfortunately, minds

once steeled by this vice are not often sensible to the attacks of

ridicule; and I have never heard that any poet, from Plautus to Moliere,

has reformed a single miser. I am not, therefore, sorry that our

legislature has encroached on this branch of the poetical prerogative,

and only wish that the mild regimen of the Muses had been succeeded by

something less rigid than the prison or the guillotine. It is true,

that, in the present instance, it is not the ordinary and habitual

practice of avarice that has called forth the severity of the laws, but a

species so destructive and extensive in its consequences, that much may

be said in defence of any penalty short of death; and such is the general

distrust of the paper-money, that I really believe, had not some measure

of the kind been adopted, no article susceptible of monopoly would have

been left for consumption. There are, however, those who retort on the

government, and assert, that the origin of the evil is in the waste and

peculation of its agents, which also make the immense emission of paper

more necessary; and they are right in the fact, though not in their

deduction, for as the evil does exist whatever may be the cause, it is

certainly wise to endeavour to remedy it.

The position of Valenciennes, which is supposed to be on the eve of a

surrender--the progress of the insurgents in La Vendee--the discontents

in the South--and the charge of treachery against so many of the

Generals, and particularly Custine--all together seem to have agitated

the public extremely: yet it is rather the agitation of uncertainty than

that occasioned by any deep impression of hope or fear. The people wish

to be relieved from their present situation, yet are without any

determinate views for the future; and, indeed, in this part of the

country, where they have neither leaders nor union, it would be very

difficult for them to take a more active part.

The party of the foederalists languish, merely because it is nothing more

than a party, and a party of which the heads excite neither interest nor

esteem. I conclude you learn from the papers all the more important

events, and I confine myself, as usual, to such details as I think less

likely to reach you. The humanity of the English must often banish their

political animosities when they read what passes here; and thousands of

my countrymen must at this moment lament with me the situation to which

France is reduced by projects in which common sense can distinguish no

medium between wickedness and folly.

All apparent attachment to royalism is now cautiously avoided, but the

royalists do not diminish by persecution, and the industry with which

they propagate their opinions is nearly a match for all the force armee

of the republicans.--It is not easy to print pamphlets or newspapers, but

there are certain shops which one would think were discovered by

instinct, where are sold a variety of mysterious emblems of royalty, such

as fans that have no visible ornaments except landscapes, &c. but when

opened by the initiated, present tolerable likenesses of the Royal

Family; snuff-boxes with secret lids, containing miniature busts of the

late King; and music so ingeniously printed, that what to the common eye

offers only some popular air, when folded so as to join the heads and

tails of the notes together, forms sentences of very treasonable import,

and by no means flattering to the existing government--I have known these

interdicted trifles purchased at extravagant prices by the best-reputed

patriots, and by officers who in public breathe nothing but unconquerable

democracy, and detestation of Kings. Yet, though these things are

circulated with extreme caution, every body has something of the sort,

and, as Charles Surface says, "for my part, I don't see who is out of the

secret."

The belief in religious miracles is exploded, and it is only in political

ones that the faith of the people is allowed to exercise itself.--We have

lately seen exhibited at the fairs and markets a calf, produced into the

world with the tri-coloured cockade on its head; and on the painted cloth

that announces the phoenomenon is the portrait of this natural

revolutionist, with a mayor and municipality in their official scarfs,

addressing the four-footed patriot with great ceremony.

We set out early to-morrow-morning for Soissons, which is about twenty

leagues from hence. Travelling is not very desirable in the present

circumstances, but Mad. de F____ has some affairs to settle there which

cannot well be entrusted to a third person. The times, however, have a

very hostile appearance, and we intend, if possible, to be absent but

three days.--Yours.

Soissons, August 4, 1793.

"And you may go by Beauvais if you will, for which reason many go by

Beauvais;" and the stranger who turns out of his road to go by Soissons,

must use the same reasoning, for the consciousness of having exercised

his free agency will be all his reward for visiting Soissons. This, by

the way; for my journey hither not being one of curiosity, I have no

right to complain; yet somehow or other, by associating the idea of the

famous Vase, the ancient residence of the first French Kings, and other

circumstances as little connected as these I suppose with modern history,

I had ranked Soissons in my imagination as one of the places I should see

with interest. I find it, however, only a dull, decent-looking town,

tolerably large, but not very populous. In the new division of France it

is the capital of the department De l'Aisne, and is of course the seat of

the administration.

We left Peronne early, and, being so fortunate as to encounter no

accidental delays, we arrived within a league of Soissons early in the

afternoon. Mad. de F____, recollecting an acquaintance who has a chateau

not far out of our road, determined to stop an hour or two; for, as she

said, her friend was so "fond of the country," she should be sure to find

him there. We did, indeed, find this Monsieur, who is so "fond of the

country," at home, extremely well powdered, dressed in a striped silk

coat, and engaged with a card party, on a warm afternoon on the third of

August.--The chateau was situated as a French chateau usually is, so as

to be benefited by all the noises and odours of the village--built with a

large single front, and a number of windows so judiciously placed, that

it must be impossible either to be cool in summer or warm in winter.

We walked out after taking some coffee, and I learned that this lover of

the country did not keep a single acre of land in his own hands, but that

the part immediately contiguous to the house was cultivated for a certain

share of the profit by a farmer who lives in a miserable looking place

adjoining, and where I saw the operations of the dairy-maid carried on

amidst pigs, ducks, and turkeys, who seemed to have established a very

familiar access.

Previous to our arrival at Soissons, the Marquise (who, though she does

not consider me as an aristocrate, knows I am by no means a republican,)

begged me to be cautious in expressing my sentiments, as the Comte de

____, where we were going, had embraced the principles of the revolution

very warmly, and had been much blamed by his family on this account.

Mad. de F____ added, that she had not seen him for above a year, but that

she believed him still to be "extremement patriote."

We reached Mons. de ____'s just as the family were set down to a very

moderate supper, and I observed that their plate had been replaced by

pewter. After the first salutations were over, it was soon visible that

the political notions of the count were much changed. He is a sensible

reflecting man, and seems really to wish the good of his country. He

thinks, with many others, that all the good effects which might have been

obtained by the revolution will be lost through the contempt and hatred

which the republican government has drawn upon it.

Mons. de ____ has two sons who have distinguished themselves very

honourably in the army, and he has himself made great pecuniary

sacrifices; but this has not secured him from numerous domiciliary visits

and vexations of all kinds. The whole family are at intervals a little

pensive, and Mons. de ____ told us, at a moment when the ladies were

absent, that the taking of Valenciennes had occasioned a violent

fermentation at Paris, and that he had serious apprehensions for those

who have the misfortune to be distinguished by their rank, or obnoxious

from their supposed principles--that he himself, and all who were

presumed to have an attachment to the constitution of eighty-nine, were

much more feared, and of course more suspected, than the original

aristocrates--and "enfin" that he had made up his mind a la Francaise to

the worst that could happen.

I have just run over the papers of the day, and I perceive that the

debates of the Convention are filled with invectives against the English.

A letter has been very opportunely found on the ramparts of Lisle, which

is intended to persuade the people that the British government has

distributed money and phosphoric matches in every town in France--the one

to provoke insurrection, the other to set fire to the corn.* You will

conclude this letter to be a fabrication, and it is imagined and executed

with so little ingenuity, that I doubt whether it will impose on the most

ignorant of the people for a moment.

* "The National Convention, in the name of violated humanity,

denounces to all the world, and to the people of England in

particular, the base, perfidious, and wicked conduct of the British

government, which does not hesitate to employ fire, poison,

assassination, and every other crime, to procure the triumph of

tyranny, and the destruction of the rights of man." (Decree, 1st

August, 1793.)

The Queen has been transferred to the Conciergerie, or common prison, and

a decree is passed for trying her; but perhaps at this moment (whatever

may be the result hereafter) they only hope her situation may operate as

a check upon the enemy; at least I have heard it doubted by many whether

they intend to proceed seriously on this trial so long threatened.--

Perhaps I may have before noticed to you that the convention never seemed

capable of any thing great or uniform, and that all their proceedings

took a tinge from that frivolity and meanness which I am almost tempted

to believe inherent in the French character. They have just now, amidst

a long string of decrees, the objects of which are of the first

consequence, inserted one for the destruction of all the royal tombs

before the tenth of August, and another for reducing the expences of the

King's children, particularly their food, to bare necessaries. Had our

English revolutionists thus employed themselves, they might have expelled

the sculptured Monarchs from the Abbey, and waged a very successful war

on the admirers of Gothic antiquity; but neither the Stuarts, nor the

Catholic religion, would have had much to fear from them.

We have been wandering about the town all day, and I have not remarked

that the successes of the enemy have occasioned any regret. When I was

in France three years ago, you may recollect that my letters usually

contained some relation of our embarrassment and delays, owing to the

fear and ignorance of the people. At one place they apprehended the

introduction of foreign troops--at another, that the Comte d'Artois was

to burn all the corn. In short, the whole country teemed with plots and

counterplots, every one of which was more absurd and inexplicable than

those of Oates, with his whole tribe of Jesuits. At present, when a

powerful army is invading the frontiers, and people have not in many

places bread to eat, they seem to be very little solicitous about the

former, and as little disposed to blame the aristocrates for the latter.

It is really extraordinary, after all the pains that have been taken to

excite hatred and resentment against the English, that I have not heard

of a single instance of their having been insulted or molested. Whatever

inconveniencies they may have been subjected to, were acts of the

government, not of the people; and perhaps this is the first war between

the two nations in which the reverse has not been the case.

I accompanied Mad. de ____ this afternoon to the house of a rich

merchant, where she had business, and who, she told me, had been a

furious patriot, but his ardour is now considerably abated. He had just

returned from the department, [Here used for the place where the public

business is transacted.] where his affairs had led him; and he assures

us, that in general the agents of the republic were more inaccessible,

more insolent, corrupt, and ignorant, than any employed under the old

government. He demurred to paying Mad. de ____ a sum of money all in

_assignats a face;_* and this famous patriot would readily have given me

an hundred livres for a pound sterling.

* _Assignats a face_--that is, with the King's effigy; at this time

greatly preferred to those issued after his death.

We shall return to Peronne to-morrow, and I have availed myself of the

hour between cards and supper, which is usually employed by the French in

undressing, to scribble my remarks. In some families, I suppose, supping

in dishabille is an arrangement of oeconomy, in others of ease; but I

always think it has the air of preparation for a very solid meal; and, in

effect, supping is not a mere ceremony with either sex in this country.

I learnt in conversation with M. de ____, whose sons were at Famars when

the camp was forced, that the carnage was terrible, and that the loss of

the French on this occasion amounted to several thousands. You will be

informed of this much more accurately in England, but you will scarcely

imagine that no official account was ever published here, and that in

general the people are ignorant of the circumstance, and all the

disasters attending it. In England, you have opposition papers that

amply supply the omissions of the ministerial gazettes, and often dwell

with much complacence on the losses and defeats of their country; here

none will venture to publish the least event which they suppose the

government wish to keep concealed. I am told, a leading feature of

republican governments is to be extremely jealous of the liberty of the

press, and that of France is, in this respect, truly republican.--Adieu.

Peronne, August, 1793.

I have often regretted, my dear brother, that my letters have for some

time been rather intended to satisfy your curiosity than your affection.

At this moment I feel differently, and I rejoice that the inquietude and

danger of my situation will, probably, not come to your knowledge till I

shall be no longer subject to them. I have been for several days unwell,

and yet my body, valetudinarian as I am at best, is now the better part

of me; for my mind has been so deranged by suspense and terror, that I

expect to recover my health long before I shall be able to tranquillize

my spirits.

On our return from Soissons I found, by the public prints, that a decree

had passed for arresting all natives of the countries with which France

is at war, and who had not constantly resided there since 1789.--This

intelligence, as you will conceive, sufficiently alarmed me, and I lost

no time in consulting Mad. de ____'s friends on the subject, who were

generally of opinion that the decree was merely a menace, and that it was

too unjust to be put in execution. As some days elapsed and no steps

were taken in consequence, I began to think they were right, and my

spirits were somewhat revived; when one evening, as I was preparing to go

to bed, my maid suddenly entered the room, and, before she could give me

any previous explanation, the apartment was filled with armed men. As

soon as I was collected enough to enquire the object of this unseasonable

visit, I learned that all this military apparel was to put the seals on

my papers, and convey my person to the Hotel de Ville!--I knew it would

be vain to remonstrated, and therefore made an effort to recover my

spirits and submit. The business, however, was not yet terminated, my

papers were to be sealed--and though they were not very voluminous, the

process was more difficult than you would imagine, none of the company

having been employed on affairs of the kind before. A debate ensued on

the manner in which it should be done, and, after a very tumultuous

discussion, it was sagaciously concluded to seal up the doors and windows

of all the apartments appropriated to my use. They then discovered that

they had no seal fit for the purpose, and a new consultation was holden

on the propriety of affixing a cypher which was offered them by one of

the Garde Nationale.

This weighty matter being at length decided, the doors of my bedchamber,

dressing-room, and of the apartments with which they communicated, were

carefully fastened up, though not without an observation on my part that

I was only a guest at Mad. de ____'s, and that an order to seize my

papers or person was not a mandate for rendering a part of her home

useless. But there was no reasoning with ignorance and a score of

bayonets, nor could I obtain permission even to take some linen out of my

drawers. On going down stairs, I found the court and avenues to the

garden amply guarded, and with this numerous escort, and accompanied by

Mad. de ____, I was conducted to the Hotel de Ville. I know not what

resistance they might expect from a single female, but, to judge by their

precautions, they must have deemed the adventure a very perilous one.

When we arrived at the Hotel de Ville, it was near eleven o'clock: the

hall was crouded, and a young man, in a dirty linen jacket and trowsers

and dirty linen, with the air of a Polisson and the countenance of an

assassin, was haranguing with great vehemence against the English, who,

he asserted, were all agents of Pitt, (especially the women,) and were to

set fire to the corn, and corrupt the garrisons of the fortified towns.--

The people listened to these terrible projects with a stupid sort of

surprize, and, for the most part, seemed either very careless or very

incredulous. As soon as this inflammatory piece of eloquence was

finished, I was presented to the ill-looking orator, who, I learned, was

a representant du peuple. It was very easy to perceive that my spirits

were quite overpowered, and that I could with difficulty support myself;

but this did not prevent the representant du peuple from treating me with

that inconsiderable brutality which is commonly the effect of a sudden

accession of power on narrow and vulgar minds. After a variety of

impertinent questions, menaces of a prison for myself, and exclamations

of hatred and vengeance against my country, on producing some friends of

Mad. de ____, who were to be answerable for me, I was released, and

returned home more dead than alive.

You must not infer, from what I have related, that I was particularly

distinguished on this occasion, for though I have no acquaintance with

the English here, I understand they had all been treated much in the same

manner.--As soon as the representant had left the town, by dint of

solicitation we prevailed on the municipality to take the seal off the

rooms, and content themselves with selecting and securing my papers,

which was done yesterday by a commission, formally appointed for the

purpose. I know not the quality of the good citizens to whom this

important charge was entrusted, but I concluded from their costume that

they had been more usefully employed the preceding part of the day at the

anvil and last. It is certain, however, they had undertaken a business

greatly beyond their powers. They indeed turned over all my trunks and

drawers, and dived to the bottom of water-jugs and flower-jars with great

zeal, but neglected to search a large portfolio that lay on the table,

probably from not knowing the use of it; and my servant conveyed away

some letters, while I amused them with the sight of a blue-bottle fly

through a microscope. They were at first much puzzled to know whether

books and music were included under the article of papers, and were very

desirous of burning a history of France, because they discovered, by the

title-plate, that it was "about Kings;" but the most difficult part of

this momentous transaction was taking an account of it in writing.

However, as only one of the company could write, there was no disputing

as to the scribe, though there was much about the manner of execution. I

did not see the composition, but I could hear that it stated "comme

quoi," they had found the seals unbroken, "comme quoi," they had taken

them off, and divers "as hows" of the same kind. The whole being

concluded, and my papers deposited in a box, I was at length freed from

my guests, and left in possession of my apartments.

It is impossible to account for this treatment of the English by any mode

of reasoning that does not exclude both justice and policy; and viewing

it only as a symptom of that desperate wickedness which commits evil, not

as a means, but an end, I am extremely alarmed for our situation. At

this moment the whole of French politics seems to center in an endeavour

to render the English odious both as a nation and as individuals. The

Convention, the clubs, and the streets of Paris, resound with low abuse

of this tendency; and a motion was made in the former, by one Garnier, to

procure the assassination of Mr. Pitt. Couthon, a member of the Comite

de Salut Publique, has proposed and carried a decree to declare him the

enemy of mankind; and the citizens of Paris are stunned by the hawkers of

Mr. Pitt's plots with the Queen to "starve all France," and "massacre all

the patriots."--Amidst so many efforts* to provoke the destruction of the

English, it is wonderful, when we consider the sanguinary character which

the French people have lately evinced, that we are yet safe, and it is in

effect only to be accounted for by their disinclination to take any part

in the animosities of their government.

* When our representative appeared at Abbeville with an intention of

arresting the English and other foreigners, the people, to whom

these missionaries with unlimited powers were yet new, took the

alarm, and became very apprehensive that he was come likewise to

disarm their Garde Nationale. The streets were crouded, the town

house was beset, and Citizen Dumout found it necessary to quiet the

town's people by the following proclamation. One part of his

purpose, that of insuring his personal safety, was answered by it;

but that of exciting the people against the English, failed--

insomuch, that I was told even the lowest classes, so far from

giving credit to the malignant calumnies propagated against the

English, openly regretted their arrestation.

"Citizens,

"On my arrival amongst you, I little thought that malevolence would

be so far successful as to alarm you on the motives of my visit.

Could the aristocrates, then, flatter themselves with the hope of

making you believe I had the intention of disarming you? Be deaf, I

beseech you, to so absurd a calumny, and seize on those who

propagate it. I came here to fraternize with you, and to assist you

in getting rid of those malcontents and foreigners, who are striving

to destroy the republic by the most infernal manoeuvres.--An

horrible plot has been conceived. Our harvests are to be fired by

means of phosphoric matches, and all the patriots assassinated.

Women, priests, and foreigners, are the instruments employed by the

coalesced despots, and by England above all, to accomplish these

criminal designs.--A law of the first of this month orders the

arrest of all foreigners born in the countries with which the

republic is at war, and not settled in France before the month of

July, 1789. In execution of this law I have required domiciliary

visits to be made. I have urged the preservation of the public

tranquillity. I have therefore done my duty, and only what all good

citizens must approve."

I have just received a few lines from Mrs. D____, written in French, and

put in the post without sealing. I perceive, by the contents, though she

enters into no details, that circumstances similar to those I have

described have likewise taken place at Amiens. In addition to my other

anxieties, I have the prospect of a long separation from my friends; for

though I am not in confinement, I cannot, while the decree which arrested

me remains in force, quit the town of Peronne. I have not often looked

forward with so little hope, or so little certainty, and though a

first-rate philosopher might make up his mind to a particular event, yet

to be prepared for any thing, and all things, is a more difficult

matter.

The histories of Greece and Rome have long constituted the grand

resources of French eloquence, and it is not till within a few days that

an orator has discovered all this good learning to be of no use--not, as

you might imagine, because the moral character and political situation of

the French differ from those of the Greeks and Romans, but because they

are superior to all the people who ever existed, and ought to be cited as

models, instead of descending to become copyists. "Therefore, continues

this Jacobin sage, (whose name is Henriot, and who is highly popular,)

let us burn all the libraries and all the antiquities, and have no guide

but ourselves--let us cut off the heads of all the Deputies who have not

voted according to our principles, banish or imprison all the gentry and

the clergy, and guillotine the Queen and General Custine!"

These are the usual subjects of discussion at the clubs, and the

Convention itself is not much more decent. I tremble when I recollect

that I am in a country where a member of the legislature proposes rewards

for assassination, and the leader of a society, that pretends to inform

and instruct the people, argues in favour of burning all the books. The

French are on the eve of exhibiting the singular spectacle of a nation

enlightened by science, accustomed to the benefit of laws and the

enjoyment of arts, suddenly becoming barbarous by system, and sinking

into ignorance from choice.--When the Goths shared the most curious

antiques by weight, were they not more civilized than the Parisian of

1793, who disturbs the ashes of Henry the Fourth, or destroys the

monument of Turenne, by a decree?--I have myself been forced to an act

very much in the spirit of the times, but I could not, without risking my

own safety, do otherwise; and I sat up late last night for the purpose of

burning Burke, which I had brought with me, but had fortunately so well

concealed, that it escaped the late inquisition. I indeed made this

sacrifice to prudence with great unwillingness--every day, by confirming

Mr. Burke's assertions, or fulfilling his predictions, had so increased

my reverence for the work, that I regarded it as a kind of political

oracle. I did not, however, destroy it without an apologetic apostrophe

to the author's benevolence, which I am sure would suffer, were he to be

the occasion, though involuntarily, of conducting a female to a prison or

the Guillotine.

"How chances mock, and changes fill the cup of alteration up with divers

liquors."--On the same hearth, and in a mingled flame, was consumed the

very constitution of 1789, on which Mr. Burke's book was a censure, and

which would now expose me to equal danger were it to be found in my

possession. In collecting the ashes of these two compositions, the

tendency of which is so different, (for such is the complexion of the

moment, that I would not have even the servant suspect I had been burning

a quantity of papers,) I could not but moralize on the mutability of

popular opinion. Mr. Burke's Gallic adversaries are now most of them

proscribed and anathematized more than himself. Perhaps another year may

see his bust erected on the piedestal which now supports that of Brutus

or Le Pelletier.

The letters I have written to you since the communication was

interrupted, with some other papers that I am solicitous to preserve,

I have hitherto always carried about me, and I know not if any danger,

merely probable, will induce me to part with them. You will not, I

think, suspect me of attaching any consequence to my scribblings from

vanity; and if I run some personal risk in keeping them, it is because

the situation of this country is so singular, and the events which occur

almost daily so important, that the remarks of any one who is unlucky

enough to be a spectator, may interest, without the advantage of literary

talents.--Yours.

Peronne, August 24, 1793.

I have been out to-day for the first time since the arrest of the

English, and, though I have few acquaintances here, my adventure at the

Hotel de Ville has gained me a sort of popularity. I was saluted by many

people I did not know, and overwhelmed with expressions of regret for

what had happened, or congratulations on my having escaped so well.

The French are not commonly very much alive to the sufferings of others,

and it is some mortification to my vanity that I cannot, but at the

expence of a reproaching conscience, ascribe the civilities I have

experienced on this occasion to my personal merit. It would doubtless

have been highly flattering to me to relate the tender and general

interest I had excited even among this cold-hearted people, who scarcely

feel for themselves: but the truth is, they are disposed to take the part

of any one whom they think persecuted by their government; and their

representative, Dumont, is so much despised in his private character, and

detested in his public one, that it suffices to have been ill treated by

him, to ensure one a considerable portion of the public good will.

This disposition is not a little consolatory, at a time when the whole

rage of an oligarchical tyranny, though impotent against the English as a

nation, meanly exhausts itself on the few helpless individuals within its

power. Embarrassments accumulate and if Mr. Pitt's agents did not most

obligingly write letters, and these letters happen to be intercepted just

when they are most necessary, the Comite de Salut Publique would be at a

loss how to account for them.

Assignats have fallen into a discredit beyond example, an hundred and

thirty livres having been given for one Louis-d'or; and, as if this were

not the natural result of circumstances like the present, a

correspondence between two Englishmen informs us, that it is the work of

Mr. Pitt, who, with an unparalleled ingenuity, has contrived to send

couriers to every town in France, to concert measures with the bankers

for this purpose. But if we may believe Barrere, one of the members of

the Committee, this atrocious policy of Mr. Pitt will not be unrevenged,

for another intercepted letter contains assurances that an hundred

thousand men have taken up arms in England, and are preparing to march

against the iniquitous metropolis that gives this obnoxious Minister

shelter.

My situation is still the same--I have no hope of returning to Amiens,

and have just reason to be apprehensive for my tranquillity here. I had

a long conversation this morning with two people whom Dumont has left

here to keep the town in order during his absence. The subject was to

prevail on them to give me a permission to leave Peronne, but I could not

succeed. They were not, I believe, indisposed to gratify me, but were

afraid of involving themselves. One of them expressed much partiality

for the English, but was very vehement in his disapprobation of their

form of government, which he said was "detestable." My cowardice did not

permit me to argue much in its behalf, (for I look upon these people as

more dangerous than the spies of the old police,) and I only ventured to

observe, with great diffidence, that though the English government was

monarchical, yet the power of the Crown was very much limited; and that

as the chief subjects of our complaints at present were not our

institutions, but certain practical errors, they might be remedied

without any violent or radical changes; and that our nobility were

neither numerous nor privileged, and by no means obnoxious to the

majority of the people.--_"Ah, vous avez donc de la noblesse blesse en

Angleterre, ce sont peut-etre les milords,"_ ["What, you have nobility in

England then? The milords, I suppose."] exclaimed our republican, and it

operated on my whole system of defence like my uncle Toby's smoke-jack,

for there was certainly no discussing the English constitution with a

political critic, who I found was ignorant even of the existence of a

third branch of it; yet this reformer of governments and abhorrer of

Kings has power delegated to him more extensive than those of an English

Sovereign, though I doubt if he can write his own language; and his moral

reputation is still less in his favour than his ignorance--for, previous

to the revolution, he was known only as a kind of swindler, and has more

than once been nearly convicted of forgery.--This is, however, the

description of people now chiefly employed, for no honest man would

accept of such commissions, nor perform the services annexed to them.

Bread continues very scarce, and the populace of Paris are, as usual,

very turbulent; so that the neighbouring departments are deprived of

their subsistence to satisfy the wants of a metropolis that has no claim

to an exemption from the general distress, but that which arises from the

fears of the Convention. As far as I have opportunity of learning or

observing, this part of France is in that state of tranquillity which is

not the effect of content but supineness; the people do not love their

government, but they submit to it, and their utmost exertions amount only

to a little occasional obstinacy, which a few dragoons always reduce to

compliance. We are sometimes alarmed by reports that parties of the

enemy are approaching the town, when the gates are shut, and the great

bell is toll'd; but I do not perceive that the people are violently

apprehensive about the matter. Their fears are, I believe, for the most

part, rather personal than political--they do not dread submission to the

Austrians, but military licentiousness.

I have been reading this afternoon Lord Orrery's definition of the male

Cecisbeo, and it reminds me that I have not yet noticed to you a very

important class of females in France, who may not improperly be

denominated female Cecisbeos. Under the old system, when the rank of a

woman of fashion had enabled her to preserve a degree of reputation and

influence, in spite of the gallantries of her youth and the decline of

her charms, she adopted the equivocal character I here allude to, and,

relinquishing the adorations claimed by beauty, and the respect due to

age, charitably devoted herself to the instruction and advancement of

some young man of personal qualifications and uncertain fortune. She

presented him to the world, panegyrized him into fashion, and insured his

consequence with one set of females, by hinting his successes with

another. By her exertions he was promoted in the army or distinguished

at the levee, and a career begun under such auspices often terminated in

a brilliant establishment.--In the less elevated circle, a female

Cecisbeo is usually of a certain age, of an active disposition, and great

volubility, and her functions are more numerous and less dignified. Here

the grand objects are not to besiege Ministers, nor give a "ton" to the

protege at a fashionable ruelle, but to obtain for him the solid

advantages of what she calls _"un bon parti."_ [A good match.] To this

end she frequents the houses of widows and heiresses, vaunts the docility

of his temper, and the greatness of his expectations, enlarges on the

solitude of widowhood, or the dependence and insignificance of a

spinster; and these prefatory encomiums usually end in the concerted

introduction of the Platonic "ami."

But besides these principal and important cares, a female Cecisbeo of the

middle rank has various subordinate ones--such as buying linen, choosing

the colour of a coat, or the pattern of a waistcoat, with all the

minutiae of the favourite's dress, in which she is always consulted at

least, if she has not the whole direction.

It is not only in the first or intermediate classes that these useful

females abound, they are equally common in more humble situations, and

only differ in their employments, not in their principles. A woman in

France, whatever be her condition, cannot be persuaded to resign her

influence with her youth; and the bourgeoise who has no pretensions to

court favour or the disposal of wealthy heiresses, attaches her eleve by

knitting him stockings, forcing him with bons morceaux till he has an

indigestion, and frequent regales of coffee and liqueur.

You must not conclude from all this that there is any gallantry implied,

or any scandal excited--the return for all these services is only a

little flattery, a philosophic endurance of the card-table, and some

skill in the disorders of lap-dogs. I know there are in England, as well

as in France, many notable females of a certain age, who delight in what

they call managing, and who are zealous in promoting, matches among the

young people of their acquaintance; but for one that you meet with in

England there are fifty here.

I doubt much if, upon the whole, the morals of the English women are not

superior to those of the French; but however the question may be decided

as to morals, I believe their superiority in decency of manners is

indisputable--and this superiority is, perhaps, more conspicuous in women

of a certain age, than in the younger part of the sex. We have a sort of

national regard for propriety, which deters a female from lingering on

the confines of gallantry, when age has warned her to withdraw; and an

old woman that should take a passionate and exclusive interest about a

young man not related to her, would become at least an object of

ridicule, if not of censure:--yet in France nothing is more common; every

old woman appropriates some youthful dangler, and, what is extraordinary,

his attentions are not distinguishable from those he would pay to a

younger object.--I should remark, however, as some apology for these

juvenile gallants, that there are very few of what we call Tabbies in

France; that is, females of severe principles and contracted features, in

whose apparel every pin has its destination with mathematical exactness,

who are the very watch-towers of a neighbourhood, and who give the alarm

on the first appearance of incipient frailty. Here, antique dowagers and

faded spinsters are all gay, laughing, rouged, and indulgent--so that

'bating the subtraction of teeth and addition of wrinkles, the disparity

between one score and four is not so great:

"Gay rainbow silks their mellow charms enfold,

Nought of these beauties but themselves is old."

I know if I venture to add a word in defence of Tabbyhood, I shall be

engaged in a war with yourself and all our young acquaintance; yet in

this age, which so liberally "softens, and blends, and weakens, and

dilutes" away all distinctions, I own I am not without some partiality

for strong lines of demarcation; and, perhaps, when fifty retrogrades

into fifteen, it makes a worse confusion in society than the toe of the

peasant treading on the heel of the courtier.--But, adieu: I am not gay,

though I trifle. I have learnt something by my residence in France, and

can be, as you see, frivolous under circumstances that ought to make me

grave.--Yours.

Peronne, August 29, 1793.

The political horizon of France threatens nothing but tempests. If we

are still tranquil here, it is only because the storm is retarded, and,

far from deeming ourselves secure from its violence, we suffer in

apprehension almost as much as at other places is suffered in reality.

An hundred and fifty people have been arrested at Amiens in one night,

and numbers of the gentry in the neighbouring towns have shared the same

fate. This measure, which I understand is general throughout the

republic, has occasioned great alarms, and is beheld by the mass of the

people themselves with regret. In some towns, the Bourgeois have

petitions to the Representatives on mission in behalf of their gentry

thus imprisoned: but, far from succeeding, all who have signed such

petitions are menaced and intimidated, and the terror is so much

increased, that I doubt if even this slight effort will be repeated any

where.

The levee en masse, or rising in a body, which has been for some time

decreed, has not yet taken place. There are very few, I believe, that

comprehend it, and fewer who are disposed to comply. Many consultations

have been holden, many plans proposed; but as the result of all these

consultations and plans is to send a certain number to the frontiers, the

suffrages have never been unanimous except in giving their negative.--

Like Falstaff's troops, every one has some good cause of exemption; and

if you were to attend a meeting where this affair is discussed, you would

conclude the French to be more physically miserable than any people on

the glove. Youths, in apparent good health, have internal disorders, or

concealed infirmities--some are near-sighted--others epileptic--one is

nervous, and cannot present a musquet--another is rheumatic, and cannot

carry it. In short, according to their account, they are a collection of

the lame, the halt, and the blind, and fitter to send to the hospital,

than to take the field. But, in spite of all these disorders and

incapacities, a considerable levy must be made, and the dragoons will, I

dare say, operate very wonderful cures.

The surrender of Dunkirk to the English is regarded as inevitable. I am

not politician enough to foresee the consequences of such an event, but

the hopes and anxieties of all parties seem directed thither, as if the

fate of the war depended on it. As for my own wishes on the subject,

they are not national, and if I secretly invoke the God of Armies for the

success of my countrymen, it is because I think all that tends to destroy

the present French government may be beneficial to mankind. Indeed, the

successes of war can at no time gratify a thinking mind farther than as

they tend to the establishment of peace.

After several days of a mockery which was called a trial, though the

witnesses were afraid to appear, or the Counsel to plead in his favour,

Custine has suffered at the Guillotine. I can be no judge of his

military conduct, and Heaven alone can judge of his intentions. None of

the charges were, however, substantiated, and many of them were absurd or

frivolous. Most likely, he has been sacrificed to a cabal, and his

destruction makes a part of that system of policy, which, by agitating

the minds of the people with suspicions of universal treason and

unfathomable plots, leaves them no resource but implicit submission to

their popular leaders.

The death of Custine seems rather to have stimulated than appeased the

barbarity of the Parisian mob. At every defeat of their armies they call

for executions, and several of those on whom the lot has fallen to march

against the enemy have stipulated, at the tribune of the Jacobins, for

the heads they exact as a condition of their departure,* or as the reward

for their labours. The laurel has no attraction for heroes like these,

who invest themselves with the baneful yew and inauspicious cypress, and

go to the field of honour with the dagger of the assassin yet

ensanguined.

* Many insisted they would not depart until after the death of the

Queen--some claimed the death of one General, some that of another,

and all, the lives or banishment of the gentry and clergy.

"Fair steeds, gay shields, bright arms," [Spencer.] the fancy-created

deity, the wreath of fame, and all that poets have imagined to decorate

the horrors of war, are not necessary to tempt the gross barbarity of the

Parisian: he seeks not glory, but carnage--his incentive is the groans of

defenceless victims--he inlists under the standard of the Guillotine, and

acknowledges the executioner for his tutelary Mars.

In remarking the difficulties that have occurred in carrying into

execution the levee en masse, I neglected to inform you that the prime

mover of all these machinations is your omnipotent Mr. Pitt--it is he who

has fomented the perverseness of the towns, and alarmed the timidity of

the villages--he has persuaded some that it is not pleasant to leave

their shops and families, and insinuated into the minds of others that

death or wounds are not very desirable--he has, in fine, so effectually

achieved his purpose, that the Convention issues decree after decree, the

members harangue to little purpose, and the few recruits already levied,

like those raised in the spring, go from many places strongly escorted to

the army.--I wish I had more peaceful and more agreeable subjects for

your amusement, but they do not present themselves, and "you must blame

the times, not me." I would wish to tell you that the legislature is

honest, that the Jacobins are humane, and the people patriots; but you

know I have no talent for fiction, and if I had, my situation is not

favourable to any effort of fancy.--Yours.

Peronne, Sept. 7, 1793.

The successes of the enemy on all sides, the rebellion at Lyons and

Marseilles, with the increasing force of the insurgents in La Vendee,

have revived our eagerness for news, and if the indifference of the

French character exempt them from more patriotic sensations, it does not

banish curiosity; yet an eventful crisis, which in England would draw

people together, here keeps them apart. When an important piece of

intelligence arrives, our provincial politicians shut themselves up with

their gazettes, shun society, and endeavour to avoid giving an opinion

until they are certain of the strength of a party, or the success of an

attempt. In the present state of public affairs, you may therefore

conceive we have very little communication--we express our sentiments

more by looks and gestures than words, and Lavater (admitting his system)

would be of more use to a stranger than Boyer or Chambaud. If the

English take Dunkirk, perhaps we may be a little more social and more

decided.

Mad. de ____ has a most extensive acquaintance, and, as we are situated

on one of the roads from Paris to the northern army, notwithstanding the

cautious policy of the moment, we are tolerably well informed of what

passes in most parts of France; and I cannot but be astonished, when I

combine all I hear, that the government is able to sustain itself. Want,

discord, and rebellion, assail it within--defeats and losses from

without. Perhaps the solution of this political problem can only be

found in the selfishness of the French character, and the want of

connection between the different departments. Thus one part of the

country is subdued by means of another: the inhabitants of the South take

up arms in defence of their freedom and their commerce, while those of

the North refuse to countenance or assist them, and wait in selfish

tranquillity till the same oppression is extended to themselves. The

majority of the people have no point of union nor mode of communication,

while the Jacobins, whose numbers are comparatively insignificant, are

strong, by means of their general correspondence, their common center at

Paris, and the exclusive direction of all the public prints. But,

whatever are the causes, it is certain that the government is at once

powerful and detested--almost without apparent support, yet difficult to

overthrow; and the submission of Rome to a dotard and a boy can no longer

excite the wonder of any one who reflects on what passes in France.

After various decrees to effect the levee en masse, the Convention have

discovered that this sublime and undefined project was not calculated for

the present exhausted state of martial ardour. They therefore no longer

presume on any movement of enthusiasm, but have made a positive and

specific requisition of all the male inhabitants of France between

eighteen and twenty-five years of age. This, as might be expected, has

been more effectual, because it interests those that are exempt to force

the compliance of those who are not. Our young men here were like

children with a medicine--they proposed first one form of taking this

military potion, then another, and finding them all equally unpalatable,

would not, but for a little salutary force, have decided at all.

A new law has been passed for arresting all the English who cannot

produce two witnesses of their civisme, and those whose conduct is thus

guaranteed are to receive tickets of hospitality, which they are to wear

as a protection. This decree has not yet been carried into effect at

Peronne, nor am I much disturbed about it. Few of our countrymen will

find the matter very difficult to arrange, and I believe they have all a

better protection in the disposition of the people towards them, than any

that can be assured them by decrees of the Convention.

Sept. 11. The news of Lord Hood's taking possession of Toulon, which the

government affected to discredit for some days, is now ascertained; and

the Convention, in a paroxism of rage, at once cowardly and unprincipled,

has decreed that all the English not resident in France before 1789,

shall be imprisoned as hostages, and be answerable with their lives for

the conduct of their countrymen and of the Toulonese towards Bayle and

Beauvais, two Deputies, said to be detained in the town at the time of

its surrender. My first emotions of terror and indignation have

subsided, and I have, by packing up my clothes, disposing of my papers,

and providing myself with money, prepared for the worst. My friends,

indeed, persuade me, (as on a former occasion,) that the decree is too

atrocious to be put in execution; but my apprehensions are founded on a

principle not likely to deceive me--namely, that those who have possessed

themselves of the French government are capable of any thing. I live in

constant fear, watching all day and listening all night, and never go to

bed but with the expectation of being awakened, nor rise without a

presentiment of misfortune.--I have not spirits nor composure to write,

and shall discontinue my letters until I am relieved from suspense, if

nor from uneasiness. I risk much by preserving these papers, and,

perhaps, may never be able to add to them; but whatever I may be reserved

for, while I have a hope they may reach you they shall not be destroyed.

--I bid you adieu in a state of mind which the circumstances I am under

will describe better than words.--Yours.

Maison d'Arret, Arras, Oct. 15, 1793.

Dear Brother,

The fears of a timid mind usually magnify expected evil, and anticipated

suffering often diminishes the effect of an apprehended blow; yet my

imagination had suggested less than I have experienced, nor do I find

that a preparatory state of anxiety has rendered affliction more

supportable. The last month of my life has been a compendium of misery;

and my recollection, which on every other subject seems to fail me, is,

on this, but too faithful, and will enable me to relate events which will

interest you not only as they personally concern me, but as they present

a picture of the barbarity and despotism to which this whole country is

subject, and to which many thousands besides myself were at the same

instant victims.

A few evenings after I concluded my last, the firing of cannon and

ringing the great bell announced the arrival of Dumont (still

Representative en mission in our department). The town was immediately

in alarm, all the gates were shut, and the avenues leading to the

ramparts guarded by dragoons. Our house being in a distant and

unfrequented street, before we could learn the cause of all this

confusion, a party of the national guard, with a municipal officer at

their head, arrived, to escort Mad. de ___ and myself to a church, where

the Representant was then examining the prisoners brought before him.

Almost as much astonished as terrified, we endeavoured to procure some

information of our conductors, as to what was to be the result of this

measure; but they knew nothing, and it was easy to perceive they thought

the office they were executing an unpleasant one. The streets we passed

were crouded with people, whose silent consternation and dismayed

countenances increased our forebodings, and depressed the little courage

we had yet preserved. The church at our arrival was nearly empty, and

Dumont preparing to depart, when the municipal officer introduced us to

him. As soon as he learned that Mad. de ____ was the sister of an

emigrant, and myself a native of England, he told us we were to pass the

night in a church appointed for the purpose, and that on the morrow we

should be conveyed to Arras. For a moment all my faculties became

suspended, and it was only by an effort almost convulsive that I was able

to ask how long it was probable we should be deprived of our liberty. He

said he did not know--"but that the raising of the siege of Dunkirk, and

the loss of six thousand troops which the French had taken prisoners,

would doubtless produce an insurrection in England, par consequent a

peace, and our release from captivity!"

You may be assured I felt no desire of freedom on such terms, and should

have heard this ignorant and malicious suggestion only with contempt, had

not the implication it conveyed that our detention would not terminate

but with the war overwhelmed every other idea. Mad. de ____ then

petitioned that we might, on account of our health, (for we were both

really unwell,) be permitted to go home for the night, accompanied by

guards if it were thought necessary. But the Representant was

inexorable, and in a brutal and despotic tone ordered us away.--When we

reached the church, which was to be our prison till morning, we found

about an hundred and fifty people, chiefly old men, women, and children,

dispersed in melancholy groupes, lamenting their situation, and imparting

their fears to each other. The gloom of the building was increased by

the darkness of the night; and the noise of the guard, may of whom were

intoxicated, the odour of tobacco, and the heat of the place, rendered

our situation almost insupportable. We soon discovered several of our

acquaintance, but this association in distress was far from consolatory,

and we passed the time in wandering about together, and consulting upon

what would be of most use to us in our confinement. We had, indeed,

little to hope for from the morrow, yet the hours dragged on heavily, and

I know not if ever I beheld the return of light with more pleasure. I

was not without apprehension for our personal safety. I recollected the

massacres in churches at Paris, and the frequent propositions that had

been made to exterminate the gentry and clergy. Mad. de ____ has since

confessed, that she had the same ideas.

Morning at length came, and our servants were permitted to enter with

breakfast. They appeared sorrowful and terror-stricken, but offered with

great willingness to accompany us whithersoever we should be sent. After

a melancholy sort of discussion, it was decided that we should take our

femmes de chambres, and that the others should remain for the safety of

the house, and to send us what we might have occasion for. This settled,

they returned with such directions as we were able to give them, (God

knows, not very coherent ones,) to prepare for our journey: and as our

orders, however confused, were not very voluminous, they were soon

executed, and before noon every thing was in readiness for our departure.

The people employed by our companions were equally diligent, and we might

very well have set out by one o'clock, had our case been at all

considered; but, I know not why, instead of so providing that we might

reach our destination in the course of the day, it seemed to have been

purposely contrived that we should be all night on the road, though we

had already passed one night without rest, and were exhausted by watching

and fatigue.

In this uncertain and unpleasant state we waited till near six o'clock;

a number of small covered waggons were then brought, accompanied by a

detachment of dragoons, who were to be our escort. Some time elapsed, as

you may suppose, before we could be all settled in the carriages and such

a cavalcade put in motion; but the concourse of people that filled the

streets, the appearance of the troops, and the tumult occasioned by so

many horses and carriages, overpowered my spirits, and I remember little

of what passed till I found we were on the road to Arras. Mad. de ____'s

maid now informed us, that Dumont had arrived the evening before in

extreme ill humour, summoned the municipality in haste, enquired how many

people they had arrested, and what denunciations they had yet to make.

The whole body corporate trembled, they had arrested no one, and, still

worse, they had no one to accuse; and could only alledge in their behalf,

that the town was in the utmost tranquillity, and the people were so well

disposed, that all violence was unnecessary. The Representant became

furious, vociferated _tout grossierement a la Francaise,_ [In the vulgar

French manner.] that he knew there were five thousand aristocrates in

Peronne, and that if he had not at least five hundred brought him before

morning, he would declare the town in a state of rebellion.

Alarmed by this menace, they began to arrest with all possible speed,

and were more solicitous to procure their number than to make

discriminations. Their diligence, however, was inadequate to appease the

choleric legislator, and the Mayor, municipal officers, and all the

administrators of the district, were in the morning sent to the Castle,

whence they are to be conveyed, with some of their own prisoners, to

Amiens.

Besides this intelligence, we learned that before our servants had

finished packing up our trunks, some Commissioners of the section arrived

to put the seals on every thing belonging to us, and it was not without

much altercation that they consented to our being furnished with

necessaries--that they had not only sealed up all the house, but had

placed guards there, each of whom Mad. de ____ is to pay, at the rate of

two shillings a day.

We were too large a body to travel fast, and by the time we reached

Bapaume (though only fifteen miles) it was after twelve; it rained

dreadfully, the night was extremely dark, the roads were bad, and the

horses tired; so that the officer who conducted us thought it would be

difficult to proceed before morning. We were therefore once more crouded

into a church, in our wet clothes, (for the covering of the waggon was

not thick enough to exclude the rain,) a few bundles of damp straw were

distributed, and we were then shut up to repose as well as we could. All

my melancholy apprehensions of the preceding night returned with

accumulated force, especially as we were now in a place where we were

unknown, and were guarded by some of the newly-raised dragoons, of whom

we all entertained very unfavourable suspicions.

We did not, as you may well imagine, attempt to sleep--a bed of wet straw

laid on the pavement of a church, filthy, as most French churches are,

and the fear of being assassinated, resisted every effort of nature

herself, and we were very glad when at the break of day we were summoned

to continue our journey. About eleven we entered Arras: the streets were

filled by idle people, apprized of our arrival; but no one offered us any

insult, except some soldiers, (I believe, by their uniform, refugees from

the Netherlands,) who cried, "a la Guillotine!--a la Guillotine!"

The place to which we were ordered had been the house of an emigrant,

now converted into an house of detention, and which, though large, was

excessively full. The keeper, on our being delivered to him, declared he

had no room for us, and we remained with our baggage in the court-yard

some hours before he had, by dislodging and compressing the other

inhabitants, contrived to place us. At last, when we were half dead with

cold and fatigue, we were shown to our quarters. Those allotted for my

friend, myself, and our servants, was the corner of a garret without a

cieling, cold enough in itself, but rendered much warmer than was

desirable by the effluvia of a score of living bodies, who did not seem

to think the unpleasantness of their situation at all increased by dirt

and offensive smells. Weary as we were, it was impossible to attempt

reposing until a purification had been effected: we therefore set

ourselves to sprinkling vinegar and burning perfumes; and it was curious

to observe that the people, (_all gens comme il faut_ [People of

fashion.]) whom we found inhaling the atmosphere of a Caffrarian hut,

declared their nerves were incommoded by the essence of roses and

vinaigre des quatre voleurs.

As a part of the room was occupied by men, our next business was to

separate our corner by a curtain, which we had fortunately brought with

our bedding; and this done, we spread our mattresses and lay down, while

the servants were employed in getting us tea. As soon as we were a

little refreshed, and the room was quiet for the night, we made up our

beds as well as we could, and endeavoured to sleep. Mad. de ____ and the

two maids soon forgot their cares; but, though worn out by fatigue, the

agitation of my mind conquered the disposition of my body. I seemed to

have lost the very faculty of sleeping, and passed this night with almost

as little repose as the two preceding ones. Before morning I discovered

that remaining so long in damp clothes, and the other circumstances of

our journey, had given me cold, and that I had all the symptoms of a

violent fever.

I leave you to conjecture, for it would be impossible to detail, all the

misery of illness in such a situation; and I will only add, that by the

care of Mad. de ____, whose health was happily less affected, and the

attention of my maid, I was able to leave the room in about three weeks.

--I must now secrete this for some days, but will hereafter resume my

little narrative, and explain how I have ventured to write so much even

in the very neighbourhood of the Guillotine.--Adieu.

Maison d'Arret, Arras, Oct. 17, 1793.

On the night I concluded my last, a report that Commissioners were to

visit the house on the morrow obliged me to dispose of my papers beyond

the possibility of their being found. The alarm is now over, and I

proceed.--After something more than three weeks indisposition, I began to

walk in the yard, and make acquaintance with our fellow-prisoners. Mad.

de ____ had already discovered several that were known to her, and I now

found, with much regret, that many of my Arras friends were here also.

Having been arrested some days before us, they were rather more

conveniently lodged, and taking the wretchedness of our garret into

consideration, it was agreed that Mad. de ____ should move to a room less

crouded than our own, and a dark closet that would just contain my

mattresses was resigned to me. It is indeed a very sorry apartment, but

as it promises me a refuge where I may sometimes read or write in peace,

I have taken possession of it very thankfully. A lock on the door is not

the least of its recommendations, and by way of securing myself against

all surprize, I have contrived an additional fastening by means of a

large nail and the chain of a portmanteau--I have likewise, under pretext

of keeping out the wind, papered over the cracks of the door, and

provided myself with a sand-bag, so that no one can perceive when I have

a light later than usual.--With these precautions, I can amuse myself by

putting on paper any little occurrences that I think worth preserving,

without much danger, and perhaps the details of a situation so new and so

strange may not be uninteresting to you.

We are now about three hundred in number of both sexes, and of all ages

and conditions--ci-devant noblesse, parents, wives, sisters, and other

relations of emigrants--priests who have not taken the oaths, merchants

and shopkeepers accused of monopoly, nuns, farmers that are said to have

concealed their corn, miserable women, with scarcely clothes to cover

them, for not going to the constitutional mass, and many only because

they happened to be at an inn, or on a visit from their own town, when a

general arrest took place of all who are what is called etrangers, that

is to say, not foreigners only, but not inhabitants of the town where

they are found.--There are, besides, various descriptions of people sent

here on secret informations, and who do not themselves know the precise

reason of their confinement. I imagine we are subject to nearly the same

rules as the common prisons: no one is permitted to enter or speak to a

"detenu" but at the gate, and in presence of the guard; and all letters,

parcels, baskets, &c. are examined previous to their being either

conveyed from hence or received. This, however, depends much on the

political principles of those who happen to be on guard: an aristocrate

or a constitutionalist will read a letter with his eyes half shut, and

inspect bedding and trunks in a very summary way; while a thorough-paced

republican spells every syllable of the longest epistle, and opens all

the roasted pigs or duck-pies before he allows their ingress.--None of

the servants are suffered to go out, so that those who have not friends

in the town to procure them necessaries are obliged to depend entirely on

the keeper, and, of course, pay extravagantly dear for every thing; but

we are so much in the power of these people, that it is prudent to submit

to such impositions without murmuring.

I did not, during my illness, read the papers, and have to-day been

amusing myself with a large packet. General Houchard, I find, is

arrested, for not having, as they say he might have done, driven all the

English army into the sea, after raising the siege of Dunkirk; yet a few

weeks ago their utmost hopes scarcely amounted to the relief of the town:

but their fears having subsided, they have now leisure to be jealous; and

I know no situation so little to be envied under the present government

as that of a successful General.--Among all their important avocations,

the Convention have found time to pass a decree for obliging women to

wear the national cockade, under pain of imprisonment; and the

municipality of the superb Paris have ordered that the King's family

shall, in future, use pewter spoons and eat brown bread!

Oct. 18.

I begin to be very uneasy about Mr. and Mrs. D____. I have written

several times, and still receive no answer. I fear they are in a

confinement more severe than my own, or that our letters miscarry. A

servant of Mad. de ____'s was here this morning, and no letters had come

to Peronne, unless, as my friend endeavours to persuade me, the man would

not venture to give them in presence of the guard, who par excellence

happened to be a furious Jacobin.--We had the mortification of hearing

that a very elegant carriage of Mad. de ____'s has been put in

requisition, and taken to convey a tinman and two farriers who were going

to Paris on a mission--that two of her farmer's best horses had been

killed by hard work in taking provisions to the army, and that they are

now cutting down the young wood on her estate to make pikes.--The seals

are still on our effects, and the guard remains in possession, which has

put us to the expence of buying a variety of articles we could not well

dispense with: for, on examining the baggage after our arrival, we found

it very much diminshed; and this has happened to almost all the people

who have been arrested. Our suspicions naturally fall on the dragoons,

and it is not very surprizing that they should attempt to steal from

those whom they are certain would not dare to make any complaint.

Many of our fellow-prisoners are embarrassed by their servants having

quitted them.--One Collot d'Herbois, a member of the Commite de Salut

Public, has proposed to the Convention to collect all the gentry,

priests, and suspected people, into different buildings, which should be

previously mined for the purpose, and, on the least appearance of

insurrection, to blow them up all together.--You may perhaps conclude,

that such a project was received with horror, and the adviser of it

treated as a monster. Our humane legislature, however, very coolly sent

it to the committee to be discussed, without any regard to the terror and

apprehension which the bare idea of a similar proposal must inspire in

those who are the destined victims. I cannot myself believe that this

abominable scheme is intended for execution, but it has nevertheless

created much alarm in timid minds, and has occasioned in part the

defection of the servants I have just mentioned. Those who were

sufficiently attached to their masters and mistresses to endure the

confinement and privations of a Maison d'Arret, tremble at the thoughts

of being involved in the common ruin of a gunpowder explosion; and the

men seem to have less courage than the women, at least more of the latter

have consented to remain here.--It was atrocious to publish such a

conception, though nothing perhaps was intended by it, as it may deprive

many people of faithful attendants at a time when they are most

necessary.

We have a tribunal revolutionnaire here, with its usual attendant the

Guillotine, and executions are now become very frequent. I know not who

are the sufferers, and avoid enquiring through fear of hearing the name

of some acquaintance. As far as I can learn, the trials are but too

summary, and little other evidence is required than the fortune, rank,

and connections of the accused. The Deputy who is Commissioner for this

department is one Le Bon, formerly a priest--and, I understand, of an

immoral and sanguinary character, and that it is he who chiefly directs

the verdicts of the juries according to his personal hatred or his

personal interest.--We have lately had a very melancholy instance of the

terror created by this tribunal, as well as of the notions that prevail

of its justice. A gentleman of Calais, who had an employ under the

government, was accused of some irregularity in his accounts, and, in

consequence, put under arrest. The affair became serious, and he was

ordered to prison, as a preliminary to his trial. When the officers

entered his apartment to take him, regarding the judicial procedure as a

mere form, and concluding it was determined to sacrifice him, he in a

frenzy of despair seized the dogs in the chimney, threw them at the

people, and, while they escaped to call for assistance, destroyed himself

by cutting his arteries.--It has appeared, since the death of this

unfortunate man, that the charge against him was groundless, and that he

only wanted time to arrange his papers, in order to exonerate himself

entirely.

Oct. 19.

We are disturbed almost nightly by the arrival of fresh prisoners, and my

first question of a morning is always _"N'est il pas du monde entre la

nuit?"_--Angelique's usual reply is a groan, and _"Ah, mon Dieu, oui;"

"Une dixaine de pretres;"_ or, _"Une trentaine de nobles:"_ ["Did not some

people arrive in the night?"]--"Yes, God help us--half a score priests, or

twenty or thirty gentry." And I observe the depth of the groan is nearly

in proportion to the quality of the person she commiserates. Thus, a

groan for a Comte, a Marquise, or a Priest, is much more audible than one

for a simple gentlewoman or a merchant; and the arrival of a Bishop

(especially if not one of the constitutional clergy) is announced in a

more sorrowful key than either.

While I was walking in the yard this morning, I was accosted by a

female whom I immediately recollected to be Victoire, a very pretty

_couturiere,_ [Sempstress.] who used to work for me when I was at

Panthemont, and who made your last holland shirts. I was not a little

surprized to see her in such a situation, and took her aside to enquire

her history. I found that her mother was dead, and that her brother

having set up a little shop at St. Omer, had engaged her to go and live

with him. Being under five-and-twenty, the last requisition obliged him

to depart for the army, and leave her to carry on the business alone.

Three weeks after, she was arrested at midnight, put into a cart, and

brought hither. She had no time to take any precautions, and their

little commerce, which was in haberdashery, as well as some work she had

in hand, is abandoned to the mercy of the people that arrested her. She

has reason to suppose that her crime consists in not having frequented

the constitutional mass; and that her accuser is a member of one of the

town committees, who, since her brother's absence, has persecuted her

with dishonourable proposals, and, having been repulsed, has taken this

method of revenging himself. Her conjecture is most probably right, as,

since her imprisonment, this man has been endeavouring to make a sort of

barter with her for her release.

I am really concerned for this poor creature, who is at present a very

good girl, but if she remain here she will not only be deprived of her

means of living, but perhaps her morals may be irremediably corrupted.

She is now lodged in a room with ten or dozen men, and the house is so

crouded that I doubt whether I have interest enough to procure her a more

decent apartment.

What can this strange policy tend to, that thus exposes to ruin and want

a girl of one-and-twenty--not for any open violation of the law, but

merely for her religious opinions; and this, too, in a country which

professes toleration as the basis of its government?

My friend, Mad. de ____ s'ennui terribly; she is not incapable of amusing

herself, but is here deprived of the means. We have no corner we can

call our own to sit in, and no retreat when we wish to be out of a croud

except my closet, where we can only see by candle-light. Besides, she

regrets her employments, and projects for the winter. She had begun

painting a St. Theresa, and translating an Italian romance, and had

nearly completed the education of a dozen canary birds, who would in a

month's time have accompanied the harp so delightfully, as to overpower

the sound of the instrument. I believe if we had a few more square

inches of room, she would be tempted, if not to bring the whole chorus,

at least to console herself with two particular favourites, distinguished

by curious topknots, and rings about their necks.

With all these feminine propensities, she is very amiable, and her case

is indeed singularly cruel and unjust.--Left, at an early age, under the

care of her brother, she was placed by him at Panthemont (where I first

became acquainted with her) with an intention of having her persuaded to

take the veil; but finding her averse from a cloister, she remained as a

pensioner only, till a very advantageous marriage with the Marquis de

____, who was old enough to be her father, procured her release. About

two years ago he died, and left her a very considerable fortune, which

the revolution has reduced to nearly one-third of its former value. The

Comte de ____, her brother, was one of the original patriots, and

embraced with great warmth the cause of the people; but having very

narrowly escaped the massacres of September, 1792, he immediately after

emigrated.

Thus, my poor friend, immured by her brother till the age of twenty-two

in a convent, then sacrificed three years to a husband of a disagreeable

temper and unsuitable age, is now deprived of the first liberty she ever

enjoyed, and is made answerable for the conduct of a man over whom she

has no sort of influence. It is not, therefore, extraordinary that she

cannot reconcile herself to her present situation, and I am really often

more concerned on her account than my own. Cut off from her usual

resources, she has no amusement but wandering about the house; and if her

other causes of uneasiness be not augmented, they are at least rendered

more intolerable by her inability to fill up her time.--This does not

arise from a deficiency of understanding, but from never having been

accustomed to think. Her mind resembles a body that is weak, not by

nature, but from want of exercise; and the number of years she has passed

in a convent has given her that mixture of childishness and romance,

which, my making frivolities necessary, renders the mind incapable of

exertion or self-support.

Oct. 20.

The unfortunate Queen, after a trial of some days, during which she seems

to have behaved with great dignity and fortitude, is no longer sensible

of the regrets of her friends or the malice of her enemies. It is

singular, that I have not yet heard her death mentioned in the prison

--every one looks grave and affects silence. I believe her death has not

occasioned an effect so universal as that of the King, and whatever

people's opinions may be, they are afraid of expressing them: for it is

said, though I know not with what truth, that we are surrounded by spies,

and several who have the appearance of being prisoners like ourselves

have been pointed out to me as the objects of this suspicion.