A Residence in France During the Years 1792, 1793, 1794 and 1795, Complete. Charlotte Biggs
retreat of the Pruſſian army excites more ſurprize than intereſt, and the people talk of it with as much indifference as they would of an event that had happened beyond the Ganges. The ſiege of Liſle takes off all attention from the relief of Thionville—not on account of itſ importance, but on account of its novelty.—I remain, Yours, &c.
Abbeville, September, 1792.
We left Amiens early yeſterday morning, but were ſo much delayed by the number of volunteers on the road, that it was late before we reached Abbeville. I was at firſt ſomewhat alarmed at finding ourſelveſ ſurrounded by ſo formidable a cortege; they however only exacted a declaration of our political principles, and we purchaſed our ſafety by a few ſmiles, and exclamations of vive la nation! There were ſome hundredſ of theſe recruits much under twenty; but the poor fellows, exhilarated by their new uniform and large pay, were going gaily to decide their fate by that hazard which puts youth and age on a level, and ſcatters with indiſcriminating hand the cypreſs and the laurel.
At Abbeville all the former precautions were renewed—we underwent another ſolemn identification of our perſons at the Hotel de Ville, and an abſtract of our hiſtory was again enregiſtered at the inn. One would really ſuppoſe that the town was under apprehenſions of a ſiege, or, at leaſt, of the plague. My "paper face" was examined as ſuſpiciouſly aſ though I had had the appearance of a traveſtied Achilles; and M____'s, which has as little expreſſion as a Chineſe painting, was elaborately ſcrutinized by a Dogberry in ſpectacles, who, perhaps, fancied ſhe had the features of a female Machiavel. All this was done with an air of importance ſufficiently ludicrous, when contraſted with the object; but we met with no incivility, and had nothing to complain of but a little additional fatigue, and the delay of our dinner.
We ſtopped to change horſes at Bernay, and I ſoon perceived our landlady was a very ardent patriot. In a room, to which we waded at great riſk of our clothes, was a repreſentation of the ſiege of the Baſtille, and prints of half a dozen American Generals, headed by Mr. Thomas Paine. On deſcending, we found out hoſteſs exhibiting a ſtill more forcible picture of curioſity than Shakſpeare's blackſmith. The half-demoliſhed repaſt was cooling on the table, whilſt our poſtilion retailed the Gazette, and the pigs and ducks were amicably grazing together on whatever the kitchen produced. The affairs of the Pruſſians and Auſtrians were diſcuſſed with entire unanimity, but when theſe politicians, as is often the caſe, came to adjuſt their own particular account, the conference was much leſſ harmonious. The poſtilion offered a ten ſols billet, which the landlady refuſed: one perſiſted in its validity, the other in rejecting it—till, at laſt, the patriotiſm of neither could endure this proof, and peace waſ concluded by a joint execration of thoſe who invented this fichu papier—"Sorry paper."
At ____ we met our friend, Mad. de ____, with part of her family and an immenſe quantity of baggage. I was both ſurprized and alarmed at ſuch an apparition, and found, on enquiry, that they thought themſelves unſafe at Arras, and were going to reſide near M. de ____'s eſtate, where they were better known. I really began to doubt the prudence of our eſtabliſhing ourſelves here for the winter. Every one who has it in his power endeavours to emigrate, even thoſe who till now have been zealouſ ſupporters of the revolution.—Diſtruſt and apprehenſion ſeem to have taken poſſeſſion of every mind. Thoſe who are in towns fly to the country, while the inhabitant of the iſolated chateau takes refuge in the neighbouring town. Flocks of both ariſtocrates and patriots are trembling and fluttering at the foreboding ſtorm, yet prefer to abide itſ fury, rather than ſeek ſhelter and defence together. I, however, flatter myſelf, that the new government will not juſtify this fear; and as I am certain my friends will not return to England at this ſeaſon, I ſhall not endeavour to intimidate or diſcourage them from their preſent arrangement. We ſhall, at leaſt, be enabled to form ſome idea of a republican conſtitution, and I do not, on reflection, conceive that any poſſible harm can happen to us.
October, 1792.
I ſhall not date from this place again, intending to quit it as ſoon aſ poſſible. It is diſturbed by the crouds from the camps, which are broken up, and the ſoldiers are extremely brutal and inſolent. So much are the people already familiarized with the unnatural depravity of manners that begins to prevail, that the wife of the Colonel of a battalion now here walks the ſtreets in a red cap, with piſtols at her girdle, boaſting of the numbers ſhe has deſtroyed at the maſſacres in Auguſt and September.
The Convention talk of the King's trial as a decided meaſure; yet no one ſeems to admit even the poſſibility that ſuch an act can be ever intended. A few believe him culpable, many think him miſled, and many acquit him totally: but all agree, that any violation of his perſon would be an atrocity diſgraceful to the nation at large.—The fate of Princeſ is often diſaſtrous in proportion to their virtues. The vanity, ſelfiſhneſs, and bigotry of Louis the Fourteenth were flattered while he lived, and procured him the appellation of Great after his death. The greateſt military talents that France has given birth to ſeemed created to earn laurels, not for themſelves, but for the brow of that vain-glorious Monarch. Induſtry and Science toiled but for hiſ gratification, and Genius, forgetting its dignity, willingly received from his award the ſame it has ſince beſtowed.
Louis the Fifteenth, who corrupted the people by his example, and ruined them by his expence, knew no diminution of the loyalty, whatever he might of the affection, of his people, and ended his days in the practice of the ſame vices, and ſurrounded by the ſame luxury, in which he had paſſed them.
Louis the Sixteenth, to whom ſcarcely his enemies aſcribe any vices, for its outrages againſt whom faction finds no excuſe but in the facility of his nature—whoſe devotion is at once exemplary and tolerant—who, in an age of licentiouſneſs, is remarkable for the ſimplicity of his mannerſ—whoſe amuſements were liberal or inoffenſive—and whoſe conceſſions to his people form a ſtriking contraſt with the exactions of hiſ predeceſſors.—Yes, the Monarch I have been deſcribing, and, I think, not partially, has been overwhelmed with ſorrow and indignitieſ—his perſon has been degraded, that he might be deſpoiled of his crown, and perhapſ the ſacrifice of his crown may be followed by that of his life. When we thus ſee the puniſhment of guilt accumulated on the head of him who haſ not participated in it, and vice triumph in the ſecurity that ſhould ſeem the lot of innocence, we can only adduce new motives to fortify ourſelveſ in this great truth of our religion—that the chaſtiſement of the one, and reward of the other, muſt be looked for beyond the inflictions or enjoyments of our preſent exiſtence.
I do not often moralize on paper, but there are moments when one deriveſ one's beſt conſolation from ſo moralizing; and this eaſy and ſimple juſtification of Providence, which refers all that appears inconſiſtent here to the retribution of a future ſtate, is pointed out leſs as the duty than the happineſs of mankind. This ſingle argument of religion ſolves every difficulty, and leaves the mind in fortitude and peace; whilſt the pride of ſceptical philoſophy traces whole volumes, only to eſtabliſh the doubts, and nouriſh the deſpair, of its diſciples.
Adieu. I cannot conclude better than with theſe reflections, at a time when diſbelief is ſomething too faſhionable even amongſt our countrymen.—Yours, &c.
Amiens, October, 1792.
I arrived here the day on which a ball was given to celebrate the return of the volunteers who had gone to the aſſiſtance of Liſle.*
*The bombardment of Liſle commenced