December 24, 1794.
I am now at a village a few miles from Amiens, where, upon giving ſecurity in the uſual form, we have been permitted to come for a few dayſ on a viſit to ſome relations of my friend Mad. de ____. On our arrival, we found the lady of the houſe in a nankeen pierrot, knitting grey thread ſtockings for herſelf, and the gentleman in a thick woollen jacket and pantaloons, at work in the fields, and really labouring as hard as hiſ men.—They hope, by thus taking up the occupation and aſſuming the appearance of farmers, to eſcape farther perſecution; and this policy may be available to thoſe who have little to loſe: but property is now a more dangerous diſtinction than birth, and whoever poſſeſſes it, will alwayſ be conſidered as the enemies of the republic, and treated accordingly.
We have been ſo much confined the laſt twelve months, that we were glad to ride yeſterday in ſpite of the cold; and our hoſts having procured aſſes for the females of the party, accompanied us themſelves on foot.— During our ramble, we entered into converſation with two old men and a boy, who were at work in an open field near the road. They told us, they had not ſtrength to labour, becauſe they had not their uſual quantity of bread—that their good lady, whoſe chateau we ſaw at a diſtance, had been guillotined, or elſe they ſhould have wanted for nothing—"Et ſte pauvre Javotte la n'auroit pas travaille quant elle eſt qualſiment prete a mourir." ["And our poor Javotte there would not have had to work when ſhe is almoſt in her grave.">[—"Mon dieu," (ſays one of the old men, who had not yet ſpoke,) "Je donnerais bien ma portion de ſa terre pour la ravoir notre bonne dame." ["God knows, I would willingly give up my ſhare of her eſtate to have our good lady amongſt us again.">[—"Ah pour ca oui," (returned the other,) "mais j'crois que nous n'aurons ni l'une l'autre, voila ſte maudite nation qui ſ'empare de tout." ["Ah truly, but I fancy we ſhall have neither one nor the other, for this curſed nation gets hold of every thing.">[
While they were going on in this ſtyle, a berline and four cabriolets, with three-coloured flags at the windows, and a whole troop of national guard, paſſed along the road. "Vive la Republique!"—"Vive la Nation!" cried our peaſants, in an inſtant; and as ſoon as the cavalcade was out of ſight, "Voyez ſte gueuſaille la, quel train, c'eſt vraiment quelque depute de la Convention—ces brigands la, ils ne manquent de rien, ilſ vivent comme des rois, et nous autres nous ſommes cent ſois pluſ miſerables que jamais." ["See there what a figure they make, thoſe beggarly fellowſ—it's ſome deputy of the convention I take it. The thieves want for nothing, they live like ſo many kings, and we are all a hundred times worſe off than ever.">[—"Tais toi, tais tois," ["Be quiet, I tell you.">[ (ſays the old man, who ſeemed the leaſt garrulous of the two.)—"Ne crains rien, ["Never fear.">[ (replied the firſt,) c'eſt de braves gens; theſe ladies and gentlemen I'm ſure are good people; they have not the look of patriots."—And with this compliment to ourſelves, and the externals of patriotiſm, we took our leave of them.
I found, however, by this little converſation, that ſome of the peaſantſ ſtill believe they are to have the lands of the gentry divided amongſt them, according to a decree for that purpoſe. The lady, whom they lamented, and whoſe eſtate they expected to ſhare, was the Marquiſe de B____, who had really left the country before the revolution, and had gone to drink ſome of the German mineral waters, but not returning within the time afterwards preſcribed, was declared an emigrant. By means of a friend, ſhe got an application made to Chabot, (then in high popularity,) who for an hundred thouſand livres procured a paſſport from the Executive Council to enter France. Upon the faith of this ſhe ventured to return, and was in conſequence, notwithſtanding her paſſport, executed as an emigrant.
Mrs. D____, who is not yet well enough for ſuch an expedition, and is, beſides, unaccuſtomed to our montures, remained at home. We found ſhe had been much alarmed during our abſence, every houſe in the village having been ſearched, by order of the diſtrict, for corn, and two of the horſes taken to the next poſt to convey the retinue of the Deputy we had ſeen in the morning. Every thing, however, was tranquil on our arrival, and rejoicing it was no worſe, though Mons. ____ ſeemed to be under great apprehenſion for his horſes, we ſat down to what in France is called a late dinner.
Our hoſt's brother, who left the army at the general excluſion of the Nobleſſe, and was in confinement at the Luxembourg until after the death of Robeſpierre, is a profeſſed wit, writes couplets to popular airs, and has dramatized one of Plutarch's Lives. While we were at the deſert, he amuſed us with ſome of his compoſitions in priſon, ſuch as an epigram on the Guillotine, half a dozen calembours on the bad fare at the Gamelle, [Meſs.] and an ode on the republican victory at Fleuruſ—the laſt written under the hourly expectation of being ſent off with the next fournee (batch) of pretended conſpirators, yet breathing the moſt ardent attachment to the convention, and terminated by a full ſounding line about tyrants and liberty.—This may appear ſtrange, but the Poets were, for the moſt part, in durance, and the Muſes muſt ſing, though in a cage: hope and fear too both inſpire preſcriptively, and freedom might be obtained or death averted by theſe effuſions of a devotion ſo profound aſ not to be alienated by the ſufferings of impriſonment, or the menace of deſtruction. Whole volumes of little jeux d'eſprit, written under theſe circumſtances, might be collected from the different priſons; and, I believe, it is only in France that ſuch a collection could have been furniſhed.*
* Many of theſe poetical trifles have been publiſhed—ſome written even the night before their authors were executed. There are ſeveral of great poetical merit, and, when conſidered relatively, are wonderful.—Among the various poets impriſoned, was one we ſhould ſcarcely have expected—Rouget Delille, author of the Marſeillois Hymn, who, while his muſe was rouzing the citizens from one end of the republic to the other to arm againſt tyrants, waſ himſelf languiſhing obſcurely a victim to the worſt of all tyrannies.
Mr. D____, though he writes and ſpeaks French admirably, does not love French verſes; and I found he could not depend on the government of hiſ features, while a French poet was reciting his own, but kept his eyeſ fixed on a dried apple, which he pared very curiouſly, and when that waſ atchieved, betook himſelf to breaking pralines, and extracting the almonds with equal application. We, however, complimented Monſieur'ſ poetry; and when we had taken our coffee, and the ſervants were entirely withdrawn, he read us ſome trifles more agreeable to our principles, if not to our taſte, and in which the Convention was treated with more ſincerity than complaiſance. It ſeems the poet's zeal for the republic had vaniſhed at his departure from the Luxembourg, and that his wrath againſt coaleſced deſpots, and his paſſion for liberty, had entirely evaporated. In the evening we played a party of reverſi with republican cards,* and heard the children ſing "Mourrons pour la Patrie."
* The four Kings are replaced by four Genii, the Queens by four ſorts of liberty, and the Knaves by four deſcriptions of equality.
—After theſe civic amuſements, we cloſed our chairs round the fire, conjecturing how long the republic might laſt, or whether we ſhould all paſs another twelve months in priſon, and, agreeing that both our fate and that of the republic were very precarious, adjourned to reſt.
While I was undreſſing, I obſerved Angelique looked extremely diſcontented, and on my enquiring what was the matter, ſhe anſwered, "C'eſt que je m'ennuie beaucoup ici," ["I am quite tired of thiſ place.">[ "Mademoiſelle," (for no ſtate or calling is here exempt from thiſ polite ſenſation.) "And why, pray?"—"Ah quelle triſte ſociete, tout le monde eſt d'un patriotiſme inſoutenable, la maiſon eſt remplie d'imageſ republicaines, des Marat, des Voltaire, des Pelletier, que ſais-moi? et voila juſqu'au garcon de l'ecurie qui me traite de citoyenne." ["Oh, they are a ſad ſet—every body is ſo inſufferably patriotic. The houſe is full from top to bottom of republican images, Marats, and Voltaires, and Pelletiers, and I don't know who—and I am called Citizen even by the ſtable boy.">[ I did not think it right to ſatiſfy her as to the real principles of our friends, and went to bed ruminating on the improvementſ which the revolution muſt have occaſioned in the art of diſſimulation. Terror has drilled people of the moſt oppoſite ſentiments into ſuch an uniformity of manner and expreſſion, that an ariſtocrat who is ruined and perſecuted by the government is not diſtinguiſhable from the Jacobin who has made his fortune under it.
In the morning Angelique's countenance was brightened, and I found ſhe had ſlept in the ſame room with Madame's femme de chambre, when an explanation of their political creeds had taken place, ſo that ſhe now aſſured me Mad. Auguſtine was "fort honnete dans le fond," [A very good girl at heart.] though ſhe was obliged to affect republicaniſm.—"All the world's a ſtage," ſays our great dramatic moraliſt. France is certainly ſo at preſent, and we are not only neceſſitated to act a part, but a ſorry one too; for we have no choice but to exhibit in farce, or ſuffer in tragedy.—Yours, &c.