PARIS, October, 1805.
MY LORD:--Since Bonaparte’s departure for Germany, fifteen individuals
have been brought here, chained, from La Vendee and the--Western
Departments, and are imprisoned in the Temple. Their crime is not
exactly known, but private letters from those countries relate that they
were recruiting for another insurrection, and that some of them were
entrusted as Ambassadors from their discontented countrymen to Louis
XVIII. to ask for his return to France, and for the assistance of Russia,
Sweden, and England to support his claims.
These are, however, reports to which I do not affix much credit. Had the
prisoners in the Temple been guilty, or only accused of such crimes, they
would long ago have been tortured, tried, and executed, or executed
without a trial. I suppose them mere hostages arrested by our
Government, as security for the tranquillity of the Chouan Departments
during our armies’ occupation elsewhere. We have, nevertheless, two
movable columns of six thousand men each in the country, or in its
vicinity, and it would be not only impolitic, but a cruelty, to engage or
allure the unfortunate people of these wretched countries into any plots,
which, situated as affairs now are, would be productive of great and
certain evil to them, without even the probability of any benefit to the
cause of royalty and of the Bourbons. I do not mean to say that there
are not those who rebel against Bonaparte’s tyranny, or that the Bourbons
have no friends; on the contrary, the latter are not few, and the former
very numerous. But a kind of apathy, the effect of unavailing resistance
to usurpation and oppression, has seized on most minds, and annihilated
what little remained of our never very great public spirit. We are tired
of everything, even of our existence, and care no more whether we are
governed by a Maximilian Robespierre or by a Napoleon Bonaparte, by a
Barras or by Louis XVIII. Except, perhaps, among the military, or among
some ambitious schemers, remnants of former factions, I do not believe a
Moreau, a Macdonald, a Lucien Bonaparte, or any person exiled by the
Emperor, and formerly popular, could collect fifty trusty conspirators in
all France; at least, as long as our armies are victorious, and organized
in their present formidable manner. Should anything happen to our
present chief, an impulse may be given to the minds now sunk down, and
raise our characters from their present torpid state. But until such an
event, we shall remain as we are, indolent but submissive, sacrificing
our children and treasures for a cause we detest, and for a man we abhor.
I am sorry to say it, but it certainly does, no honour to my nation when
one million desperados of civil and military banditti are suffered to
govern, tyrannize, and pillage, at their ease and undisturbed, thirty
millions of people, to whom their past crimes are known, and who have
every reason to apprehend their future wickedness.
This astonishing resignation (if I can call it so, and if it does not
deserve a worse name), is so much the more incomprehensible, as the
poverty of the higher and middle classes is as great as the misery of the
people, and, except those employed under Bonaparte, and some few upstart
contractors or army commissaries, the greatest privations must be
submitted to in order to pay the enormous taxes and make a decent
appearance. I know families of five, six, and seven persons, who
formerly were wealthy, and now have for a scanty subsistence an income of
twelve or eighteen hundred livres--per year, with which they are obliged
to live as they can, being deprived of all the resource that elsewhere
labour offers to the industrious, and all the succours compassion bestows
on the necessitous. You know that here all trade and all commerce are at
a stand or destroyed, and the hearts of our modern rich are as unfeeling
as their manners are vulgar and brutal.
A family of ci-devant nobles of my acquaintance, once possessing a
revenue of one hundred and fifty thousand livres--subsist now on fifteen
hundred livres--per year; and this sum must support six individuals--the
father and mother, with four children! It does so, indeed, by an
arrangement of only one poor meal in the day; a dinner four times, and a
supper three times, in the week. They endure their distress with
tolerable cheerfulness, though in the same street, where they occupy the
garrets of a house, resides, in an elegant hotel, a man who was once
their groom, but who is now a tribune, and has within these last twelve
years, as a conventional deputy, amassed, in his mission to Brabant and
Flanders, twelve millions of livres. He has kindly let my friend
understand that his youngest daughter might be received as a chambermaid
to his wife, being informed that she has a good education. All the four
daughters are good musicians, good drawers, and very able with their
needles. By their talents they supported their parents and themselves
during their emigration in Germany; but here these are of but little use
or advantage. Those upstarts who want instruction or works of this sort
apply to the first, most renowned, and fashionable masters or mistresses;
while others, and those the greatest number, cannot afford even to pay
the inferior ones and the most cheap. This family is one of the many
that regret having returned from their emigration. But, you may ask, why
do they not go back again to Germany? First, it would expose them to
suspicion, and, perhaps, to ruin, were they to demand passes; and if this
danger or difficulty were removed, they have no money for such a long
journey.
But this sort of penury and wretchedness is also common with the families
of the former wealthy merchants and tradesmen. Paper money, a maximum,
and requisitions, have reduced those that did not share in the crimes and
pillage of the Revolution, as much as the proscribed nobility. And,
contradictory as it may seem, the number of persons employed in
commercial speculations has more than tripled since we experienced a
general stagnation of trade, the consequence of war, of want of capital,
protection, encouragement, and confidence; but one of the magazines of
1789 contained more goods and merchandize than twenty modern magazines
put together. The expenses of these new merchants are, however, much
greater than sixteen years ago, the profit less, and the credit still
less than the profit. Hence numerous bankruptcies, frauds, swindling,
forgeries, and other evils of immorality, extravagance, and misery. The
fair and honest dealers suffer most from the intrusion of these infamous
speculators, who expecting, like other vile men wallowing in wealth under
their eyes, to make rapid fortunes, and to escape detection as well as
punishment--commit crimes to soothe disappointment. Nothing is done but
for ready money, and even bankers’ bills, or bills accepted by bankers,
are not taken in payment before the signatures are avowed by the parties
concerned. You can easily conceive what confusion, what expenses, and
what; loss of time these precautions must occasion; but the numerous
forgeries and fabrications have made them absolutely necessary.
The farmers and landholders are better off, but they also complain of the
heavy taxes, and low price paid for what they bring to the market, which
frequently, for want of ready money, remains long unsold. They take
nothing but cash in payment; for, notwithstanding the endeavours of our
Government, the notes of the Bank of France have never been in
circulation among them. They have also been subject to losses by the
fluctuation of paper money, by extortions, requisitions, and by the
maximum. In this class of my countrymen remains still some little
national spirit and some independence of character; but these are far
from being favourable to Bonaparte, or to the Imperial Government, which
the yearly increase of taxes, and, above all, the conscription, have
rendered extremely odious. You may judge of the great difference in the
taxation of lands and landed property now and under our Kings, when I
inform you that a friend of mine, who, in 1792, possessed, in one of the
Western Departments, twenty-one farms, paid less in contribution for them
all than he does now for the three farms he has recovered from the wreck
of his fortune.