STRAWBERRY HILL, _Wednesday night, July_ 15, 1789.
I write a few lines only to confirm the truth of much of what you will
read in the papers from Paris. Worse may already be come, or is expected
every hour.
Mr. Mackenzie and Lady Betty called on me before dinner, after the post
was gone out; and he showed me a letter from Dutens, who said two
couriers arrived yesterday from the Duke of Dorset and the Duchess of
Devonshire, the latter of whom was leaving Paris directly. Necker had
been dismissed, and was thought to be set out for Geneva.[1] Breteuil,
who was at his country-house, had been sent for to succeed him. Paris
was in an uproar; and, after the couriers had left it, firing of cannon
was heard for four hours together. That must have been from the Bastile,
as probably the _tiers état_ were not so provided. It is shocking to
imagine what may have happened in such a thronged city! One of the
couriers was stopped twice or thrice, as supposed to pass from the King;
but redeemed himself by pretending to be despatched by the _tiers état_.
Madame de Calonne[2] told Dutens, that the newly encamped troops desert
by hundreds.
[Footnote 1: The Baron de Breteuil had been the Controller of the
Household, and was appointed Necker's successor; but his Ministry did
not last above a fortnight, as the King found himself compelled to
restore Necker.]
[Footnote 2: Mme. de Calonne's husband had been Prime Minister for some
years, having succeeded Necker in 1780.]
Here seems the egg to be hatched, and imagination runs away with the
idea. I may fancy I shall hear of the King and Queen leaving Versailles,
like Charles the First, and then skips imagination six-and-forty years
lower, and figures their fugitive Majesties taking refuge in this
country. I have besides another idea. If the Bastile conquers, still is
it impossible, considering the general spirit in the country, and the
numerous fortified places in France, but some may be seized by the
_dissidents_, and whole provinces be torn from the Crown? On the other
hand, if the King prevails, what heavy despotism will the _états_, by
their want of temper and moderation, have drawn on their country! They
might have obtained many capital points, and removed great oppression.
No French monarch will ever summon _états_ again, if this moment has
been thrown away.
Though I have stocked myself with such a set of visions for the event
either way, I do not pretend to foresee what will happen. Penetration
argues from reasonable probabilities; but chance and folly are apt to
contradict calculation, and hitherto they seem to have full scope for
action. One hears of no genius on either side, nor do symptoms of any
appear. There will perhaps: such times and tempests bring forth, at
least bring out, great men. I do not take the Duke of Orléans[1] or
Mirabeau[2] to be built _du bois dont on les fait_; no, nor Monsieur
Necker. He may be a great traitor, if he made the confusion designedly:
but it is a woful evasion, if the promised financier slips into a black
politician! I adore liberty, but I would bestow it as honestly as I
could; and a civil war, besides being a game of chance, is paying a very
dear price for it.
[Footnote 1: The Duke of Orléans, the infamous Égalité, fomented the
Revolution in the hope that it might lead to the deposition of the King,
and to his own election to the throne, as in England, a century before,
the Prince of Orange had succeeded James II. He voted for the death of
his cousin and king, and was, in just retribution, sent to the
guillotine by Robespierre at the end of the same year.]
[Footnote 2: Mirabeau was the most celebrated of all the earlier leaders
of the Revolution. At the time of this letter he had connected himself
closely with the Duc d'Orléans, in whose pay, in fact, he was, as his
profligacy and extravagance had long before dissipated all the property
which had fallen to his share as a younger son. Afterwards, on
discovering the cowardice and baseness of the Duke, he broke with him,
and exerted himself in the cause of the King, whom, indeed, he had
originally desired to support, if his advances had not been, with
incredible folly, rejected by Necker. But he had no time to repair the
mischief he had done, even if it had been in his power, which it
probably would not have been, since he died, after a short illness, in
April, 1791.]
For us, we are in most danger of a deluge; though I wonder we so
frequently complain of long rains. The saying about St. Swithin is a
proof of how often they recur; for proverbial sentences are the children
of experience, not of prophecy. Good night! In a few days I shall send
you a beautiful little poem from the Strawberry press.
_BRUCE'S "TRAVELS"--VIOLENCE OF THE FRENCH JACOBINS--NECKER._