A Residence in France During the Years 1792, 1793, 1794 and 1795, Complete. Charlotte Biggs
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