Oct. 27.
I thought, when I wrote the above, that the houſe was really ſo full aſ to be incapable of containing more; but I did not do juſtice to the talents of our keeper. The laſt two nights have brought us an addition of ſeveral waggon loads of nuns, farmers, ſhopkeepers, &c. from the neighbouring towns, which he has ſtill contrived to lodge, though much in the way that he would pack goods in bales. Should another convoy arrive, it is certain that we muſt ſleep perpendicularly, for even now, when the beds are all arranged and occupied for the night, no one can make a diagonal movement without diſturbing his neighbour.—This very ſociable manner of ſleeping is very far, I aſſure you, from promoting the harmony of the day; and I am frequently witneſs to the reproaches and recriminations occaſioned by nocturnal miſdemeanours. Sometimes the lap-dog of one dowager is accuſed of hoſtilities againſt that of another, and thereby producing a general chorus of the reſt—then a four-footed favourite ſtrays from the bed of his miſtreſs, and takeſ poſſeſſion of a General's uniform—and there are female ſomnambules, who alarm the modeſty of a pair of Biſhops, and ſuſpended officers, that, like Richard, warring in their dreams, cry "to arms," to the great annoyance of thoſe who are more inclined to ſleep in peace. But, I underſtand, the great diſturbers of the room where Mad. de ____ ſleepſ are two chanoines, whoſe noſes are ſo ſonorous and ſo untuneable as to produce a ſort of duet abſolutely incompatible with ſleep; and one of the company is often deputed to interrupt the ſerenade by manual application mais tout en badinant et avec politeſſe [But all in pleaſantry, and with politeneſs.] to the offending parties.
All this, my dear brother, is only ludicrous in the relation; yet for ſo many people to be thus huddled together without diſtinction of age, ſex, or condition, is truly miſerable.—Mad. De ____ is ſtill indiſpoſed, and while ſhe is thus ſuffocated by bad air, and diſtracted by the variouſ noiſes of the houſe, I ſee no proſpect of her recovery.
Arras is the common priſon of the department, and, beſides, there are a number of other houſes and convents in the town appropriated to the ſame uſe, and all equally full. God knows when theſe iniquities are to terminate! So far from having any hopes at preſent, the rage for arreſting ſeems, I think, rather to increaſe than ſubſide. It iſ ſuppoſed there are now more than three hundred thouſand people in France confined under the ſimple imputation of being what is called "genſ ſuſpect:" but as this generic term is new to you, I will, by way of explanation, particularize the ſeveral ſpecies as claſſed by the Convention, and then deſcribed by Chaumette, ſolicitor for the City of Paris;*—
* Decree concerning ſuſpected people: "Art. I. Immediately after the promulgation of the preſent decree, all ſuſpected perſons that are found on the territory of the republic, and who are ſtill at large, ſhall be put under arreſt. "II. Thoſe are deemed ſuſpicious, who by their connections, their converſation, or their writings, declare themſelves partizans of tyranny or foederation, and enemies to liberty—Thoſe who have not demonſtrated their means of living or the performance of their civic duties, in the manner preſcribed by the law of March laſt—Thoſe who, having been ſuſpended from public employments by the Convention or its Commiſſioners, are not reinſtated therein—Thoſe of the ci-devant nobleſſe, who have not invariably manifeſted their attachment to the revolution, and, in general, all the fathers, mothers, ſons, daughters, brothers, ſiſters, and agents of emigrantſ—All who have emigrated between the 1ſt of July, 1789, and 8th of April, 1792. "III. The execution of the decree is confided to the Committee of Inſpection. The individuals arreſted ſhall be taken to the houſeſ of confinement appointed for their reception. They are allowed to take with them ſuch only of their effects as are ſtrictly neceſſary, the guards ſet upon them ſhall be paid at their expence, and they ſhall be kept in confinement until the peace.—The Committees of Inſpection ſhall, without delay, tranſmit to the Committee of General Safety an account of the perſons arreſted, with the motiveſ of their arreſt. [If this were obſerved (which I doubt much) it waſ but a mockery, few perſons ever knew the preciſe reaſon of their confinement.]—The civil and criminal tribunals are empowered, when they deem it neceſſary, to detain and impriſon, as ſuſpected perſons, thoſe who being accuſed of crimes have nevertheleſs had no bill found againſt them, (lieu a accuſation,) or who have even been tried and acquitted."
Indications that may ſerve to diſtinguiſh ſuſpicious perſons, and thoſe to whom it will be proper to refuſe certificates of civiſm:
"I. Thoſe who in popular aſſemblies check the ardour of the people by artful ſpeeches, by violent exclamations or threats. "II. Thoſe who with more caution ſpeak in a myſterious way of the public miſfortunes, who appear to pity the lot of the people, and are ever ready to ſpread bad news with an affectation of concern. "III. Thoſe who adapt their conduct and language to the circumſtances of the moment—who, in order to be taken for republicans, put on a ſtudied auſterity of manners, and exclaim with vehemence againſt the moſt trifling error in a patriot, but mollify when the crimes of an Ariſtocrate or a Moderee are the ſubject of complaint. [Theſe trifling events were, being concerned in the maſſacres of September, 1792—public peculationſ—occaſional, and even habitual robbery, forgeries, &c. &c. &c.—The ſecond, fourth, fifth, ſixth, and ſeventh claſſes, were particularly numerous, inſomuch that I doubt whether they would not have included nineteen-twentieths of all the people in France who were honeſt or at all capable of reflection.] "IV. Thoſe who pity avaricious farmers and ſhopkeepers, againſt whom the laws have been neceſſarily directed. "V. Thoſe who with the words liberty, country, republic, &c. conſtantly in their mouths, hold intercourſe with ci-devant Nobles, Contre-revolutionnaires, Prieſts, Ariſtocrates, Feuillans, &c. and take an intereſt in their concerns. "VI. Thoſe who not having borne an active part in the revolution, endeavour to excuſe themſelves by urging the regular payment of their taxes, their patriotic gifts, and their ſervice in the Garde National by ſubſtitute or otherwiſe. "VII. Thoſe who received the republican conſtitution with coolneſs, or who intimated their pretended apprehenſions for its eſtabliſhment and duration. "VIII. Thoſe who, having done nothing againſt liberty, have done aſ little for it. "IX. Thoſe who do not frequent the aſſembly of their ſection, and offer, for excuſe, that they are no orators, or have no time to ſpare from their own buſineſs. "X. Thoſe who ſpeak with contempt of the conſtituted authorities, of the rigour of the laws, of the popular ſocieties, and the defenders of liberty. "XI. Thoſe who have ſigned anti-revolutionary petitions, or any time frequented unpatriotic clubs, or were known as partizans of La Fayette, and accomplices in the affair of the Champ de Mars."
—and it muſt be allowed by all who reſide in France at this moment, and are capable of obſerving the various forms under which hatred for the government ſhelters itſelf, that the latter is a chef d'oeuvre in itſ kind.
Now, excluſive of the above legal and moral indications of people to be ſuſpected, there are alſo outward and viſible ſigns which we are told from the tribune of the Convention, and the Jacobins, are not much leſſ infallible—ſuch as Gens a bas de ſoie rayes moucheteſ—a chapeau rond— habit carre—culotte pincee etroite—a bottes cireeſ—les muſcadinſ— Freloquetſ—Robinets, &c. [People that wear ſpotted or ſtriped ſilk ſtockingſ—round hatſ—ſmall coatſ—tight breecheſ—blacked bootſ— perfumeſ—coxcombſ—ſprigs of the law, &c.] The conſequence of making the cut of a man's coat, or the ſhape of his hat, a teſt of his political opinions, has been the tranſformation of the whole country into republicans, at leaſt as far as depends on the coſtume; and where, as iſ natural, there exiſts a conſciouſneſs of inveterate ariſtocracy, the external is more elaborately "a la Jacobin." The equipment, indeed, of a French patriot of the lateſt date is as ſingular as his manners, and in both he is highly diſtinguiſhable from the inhabitants of any other country: from thoſe of civilized nations, becauſe he is groſs and ferociouſ—from thoſe of barbarous ones, becauſe his groſſneſs is often affected, and his ferocity a matter of principle and preference.
A man who would not be reckoned ſuſpect now arrays himſelf in a jacket and trowſers (a Carmagnole) of ſtriped cotton or coarſe cloth, a neckcloth of gaudy cotton, wadded like a horſe-collar, and projecting conſiderably beyond his chin, a cap of red and blue cloth, embroidered in front and made much in the form of that worn by the Pierrot of a pantomime, with one, or ſometimes a pair, of ear-rings, about the ſize of a large curtain-ring! Finally, he crops his hair, and carefully encourages the growth of an enormous pair of whiſkers, which he does not fail to perfume with volumes of tobacco ſmoke. He, however, who iſ ambitious of ſtill greater eminence, diſdains theſe fopperies, and affects an appearance of filth and rags, which he dignifies with the appellation of ſtern republicaniſm and virtuous poverty; and thus, by means of a thread-bare coat out at elbows, wooden ſhoes, and a red woollen cap, the rich hope to ſecure their wealth, and the covetous and intriguing to acquire lucrative employment.—Rolland, I think, was the founder of theſe modern Franciſcans, and with this miſerable affectation he machinated the death of the King, and, during ſome months, procured for himſelf the excluſive direction of the government.
All theſe patriots by preſcription and ſyſtem have likewiſe a peculiar and appropriated dialect—they addreſs every one by the title of Citizen, thee and thou indiſtinctly, and talk of nothing but the agents of Pitt and Cobourg, the coaleſced tyrants, royal ogres, ſatellites of the deſpots, automaton ſlaves, and anthropophagi; and if they revert to their own proſperous ſtate, and this very happy country, it is, un peuple libre, en peuple heureux, and par excellence la terre de la liberte. ["A free people—a happy people—and, above all others, the land of liberty.">[—It is to be obſerved, that thoſe with whom theſe pompouſ expreſſions are moſt familiar, are officers employed in the war-like ſervice of mutilating the wooden ſaints in churches, and arreſting old women whom they encounter without national cockades; or members of the municipalities, now reduced to execute the offices of conſtables, and whoſe chief functions are to hunt out ſuſpected people, or make domiciliary viſits in queſt of concealed eggs and butter. But, above all, this democratic oratory is uſed by tailors, ſhoemakers, &c.* of the Committees of Inſpection, to whom the Repreſentatives on miſſion have delegated their unlimited powers, who arreſt much on the principle of Jack Cade, and with whom it is a crime to read and write, or to appear decently dreſſed.
* For ſome months the departments were infeſted by people of thiſ deſcription—corrupt, ignorant, and inſolent. Their motives of arreſt were uſually the hope of plunder, or the deſire of diſtreſſing thoſe whom they had been uſed to look upon as their ſuperiors.—At Arras it ſufficed even to have diſobliged the wiveſ of theſe miſcreants to become the object of perſecution. In ſome places they arreſted with the moſt barbarous caprice, even without the ſhadow of a reaſon. At Heſden, a ſmall town in Artois, Dumont left the Mayor carte blanche, and in one night two hundred people were thrown into priſon. Every where theſe low and obſcure dominators reigned without controul, and ſo much were the people intimidated, that inſtead of daring to complain, they treated their new tyrants with the moſt ſervile adulation.—I have ſeen a ci-devant Comteſſe coquetting with all her might a Jacobin tailor, and the richeſt merchants of a town ſoliciting very humbly the good offices of a dealer in old clothes.
Theſe ridiculous accoutrements, and this magnificent phraſeology, are in themſelves very harmleſs; but the aſcendancy which ſuch a claſs of people are taking has become a ſubject of juſt alarm.—The whole adminiſtration of the country is now in the hands of uninformed and neceſſitouſ profligates, ſwindlers, men already condemned by the laws, and who, if the revolution had not given them "place and office," would have been at the galleys, or in priſon.*
* One of the adminiſtrators of the department de la Somme (which, however, was more decently compoſed than many others,) was, before the revolution, convicted of houſe-breaking, and another of forgery; and it has ſince been proved on various occaſions, particularly on the trial of the ninety-four Nantais, that the revolutionary Committees were, for the moſt part, compoſed of the very refuſe of ſociety—adventurers, thieves, and even aſſaſſins; and it would be difficult to imagine a crime that did not there find reward and protection.—In vain were the privileges of the nobility aboliſhed, and religion proſcribed. A new privileged order aroſe in the Jacobins, and guilt of every kind, without the ſemblance of penitence, found an aſylum in theſe Committees, and an inviolability more ſacred than that afforded by the demoliſhed altars.
To theſe may be added a few men of weak character, and unſteady principles, who remain in office becauſe they fear to reſign; with a few, and but very few, ignorant fanatics, who really imagine they are free becauſe they can moleſt and deſtroy with impunity all they have hitherto been taught to reſpect, and drink treble the quantity they did formerly.