The number of emigrants from faſhion or caprice is probably not great; and whom ſhall we now dare to include under this deſcription, when the humble artizan, the laborious peaſant, and the village prieſt, have enſanguined the ſcaffold deſtined for the prince or the prelate?—But if the emigrants be juſtifiable, the refugees are yet more ſo.
By Emigrants, I mean all who, without being immediately in danger, left their country through apprehenſion of the future—from attachment to the perſons of the Princes, or to join companions in the army whom they might deem it a diſgrace to abandon.—Thoſe whom I think may with truth be ſtyled Refugees, are the Nobility and Prieſts who fled when the people, irritated by the literary terroriſts of the day, the Briſſots, Rolands, Camille Deſmoulins, &c. were burning their chateaux and proſcribing their perſons, and in whom expatriation cannot properly be deemed the effect of choice. Theſe, wherever they have ſought an aſylum, are entitled to our reſpect and ſympathy.
Yet, I repeat, we are not authorized to diſcriminate. There is no reaſoning coldly on the ſubject. The moſt cautious prudence, the moſt liberal ſacrifices, and the meaneſt condeſcenſions, have not inſured the lives and fortunes of thoſe who ventured to remain; and I know not that the abſent require any other apology than the deſolation of the country they have quitted. Had my friends who have been ſlaughtered by Le Bon'ſ tribunal perſiſted in endeavouring to eſcape, they might have lived, and their families, though deſpoiled by the rapacity of the government, have been comparatively happy.*
* The firſt horrors of the revolution are well known, and I have ſeen no accounts which exaggerate them. The niece of a lady of my acquaintance, a young woman only ſeventeen, eſcaped from her country-houſe (whilſt already in flames) with her infant at her breaſt, and literally without clothes to cover her. In this ſtate ſhe wandered a whole night, and when ſhe at length reached a place where ſhe procured aſſiſtance, was ſo exhauſted that her life was in danger.—Another lady, whom I knew, was wounded in the arm by ſome peaſants aſſembled to force from her the writings of her huſband'ſ eſtates. Even after this they ſtill remained in France, ſubmitted with cheerfulneſs to all the demands of patriotic gifts, forced loans, requiſitions and impoſitions of every kind; yet her huſband was nevertheleſs guillotined, and the whole of their immenſe property confiſcated.
Retroſpections, like theſe, obliterate many of my former notions on the ſubject of the Emigrants; and if I yet condemn emigration, it is only aſ a general meaſure, impolitic, and inadequate to the purpoſes for which it was undertaken. But errors of judgment, in circumſtances ſo unprecedented, cannot be cenſured conſiſtently with candour, through we may venture to mark them as a diſcouragement to imitation; for if any nation ſhould yet be menaced by the revolutionary ſcourge, let it beware of ſeeking external redreſs by a temporary abandonment of its intereſtſ to the madneſs of ſyſtemiſts, or the rapine of needy adventurers. We muſt, we ought to, lament the fate of the many gallant men who have fallen, and the calamities of thoſe who ſurvive; but what in them haſ been a miſtaken policy, will become guilt in thoſe who, on a ſimilar occaſion, ſhall not be warned by their example. I am concerned when I hear theſe unhappy fugitives are any where objects of ſuſpicion or perſecution, as it is not likely that thoſe who really emigrated from principle can merit ſuch treatment: and I doubt not, that moſt of the inſtances of treachery or miſconduct aſcribed to the Emigrants originated in republican emiſſaries, who have aſſumed that character for the double purpoſe of diſcrediting it, and of exerciſing their trade as ſpies.
The common people here, who were retained by Le Bon for ſeveral months to attend and applaud his executions, are ſtill diſſolute and ferocious, and openly regret the loſs of their pay, and the diſuſe of the guillotine.
—I came to Arras in mourning, which I have worn ſince the receipt of your firſt letter, but was informed by the lady with whom my friendſ lodge, that I muſt not attempt to walk the ſtreets in black, for that it was cuſtomary to inſult thoſe who did ſo, on a ſuppoſition that they were related to ſome perſons who had been executed; I therefore borrowed a white undreſs, and ſtole out by night to viſit my unfortunate acquaintance, as I found it was alſo dangerous to be ſeen entering houſeſ known to contain the remains of thoſe families which had been diſmembered by Le Bon's cruelties.
We return to Amiens to-morrow, though you muſt not imagine ſo formidable a perſon as myſelf is permitted to wander about the republic without due precaution; and I had much difficulty in being allowed to come, even attended by a guard, who has put me to a conſiderable expence; but the man is civil, and as he has buſineſs of his own to tranſact in the town, he is no embarraſſment to me.