Madame de St. E__m__d is the daughter of a gentleman whoſe fortune waſ inadequate both to his rank and manner of living, and he gladly embraced the offer of Monſieur de St. E__m__d to marry her at ſixteen, and to relinquiſh the fortune allotted her to her two younger ſiſters. Monſieur de St. E__m__d, being a diſſipated man, ſoon grew weary of any ſort of domeſtic life, and placing his wife with her father, in leſs than a year after their marriage departed for Italy.—Madame de St. E__m__d, thuſ left in a ſituation both delicate and dangerous for a young and pretty woman, became unfortunately attached to a gentleman who was her diſtant relation: yet, far from adopting the immoral principles not unjuſtly aſcribed to your country, ſhe conducted herſelf with a prudence and reſerve, which even in France made her an object of general reſpect. About three years after her huſband's departure the revolution took place, and not returning, he was of courſe put on the liſt of emigrants. In 1792, when the law paſſed which ſanctioned and facilitated divorces, her friends all earneſtly perſuaded her to avail herſelf of it, but ſhe could not be prevailed upon to conſider the ſtep as juſtifiable; for though Monſieur de St. E__m__d neglected her, he had, in other reſpects, treated her with generoſity and kindneſs. She, therefore, perſiſted in her refuſal, and her lover, in deſpair, joined the republican army.
At the general arreſt of the Nobleſſe, Madame de St. E__m__d and her ſiſters were confined in the town where they reſided, but their father was ſent to Paris; and a letter from one of his female relations, who had emigrated, being found among his papers, he was executed without being able to ſee or write to his children. Madame de St. E__m__d's huſband had returned about the ſame time to France, in the diſguiſe of a poſt-boy, was diſcovered, and ſhared the ſame fate. Theſe events reached her love, ſtill at the army, but it was impoſſible for him to quit his poſt, and in a few days after, being mortally wounded, he died,* recommending Eugenie de St. E__m__d to the protection of his father.—
* This young man, who died gallantly fighting in the cauſe of the republic, was no republican: but this does not render the murder of his father, a deaf [There were people both deaf and dumb in the priſons as conſpirators.] and inoffenſive man, leſs abominable.—The caſe of General Moreau's father, though ſomewhat ſimilar, is yet more characteriſtic of the revolution. Mons. Moreau was perſuaded, by a man who had ſome intereſt in the buſineſs, to pay a debt which he owed an emigrant, to an individual, inſtead of paying it, as the law directed, to the uſe of the republic. The ſame man afterwardſ denounced him, and he was thrown into priſon. At nine o'clock on the night preceding his trial, his act of accuſation was brought him, and before he had time to ſketch out a few lines for hiſ defence, the light by which he wrote was taken away. In the morning he was tried, the man who had informed againſt him ſitting as one of his judges, and he was condemned and executed the very day on which his ſon took the Fort de l'Ecluſe!—Mons. Moreau had four ſons, beſides the General in the army, and two daughters, all left deſtitute by the confiſcation of his property.
—A brother officer, who engaged to execute this commiſſion, wrote immediately to the old man, to inform him of his loſs, and of his ſon'ſ laſt requeſt. It was too late, the father having been arreſted on ſuſpicion, and afterwards guillotined, with many other perſons, for a pretended conſpiracy in priſon, the very day on which his ſon had fallen in the performance of an act of uncommon bravery.
Were I writing from imagination, I ſhould add, that Madame de St. E__m__d had been unable to ſuſtain the ſhock of theſe repeated calamities, and that her life or underſtanding had been the ſacrifice. It were, indeed, happy for the ſufferer, if our days were always terminated when they became embittered, or that we loſt the ſenſe of ſorrow by its exceſs: but it is not ſo—we continue to exiſt when we have loſt the deſire of exiſtence, and to reaſon when feeling and reaſon conſtitute our torments. Madame de St. E__m__d then lives, but lives in affliction; and having collected the wreck of her perſonal property, which ſome friends had concealed, ſhe left the part of France ſhe formerly inhabited, and is now with an aunt in this neighbourhood, watching the decay of her eldeſt ſiſter, and educating the youngeſt.
Clementine was conſumptive when they were firſt arreſted, and vexation, with ill-treatment in the priſon, have ſo eſtabliſhed her diſorder, that ſhe is now paſt relief. She is yet ſcarcely eighteen, and one of the moſt lovely young women I ever ſaw. Grief and ſickneſs have ravaged her features; but they are ſtill ſo perfect, that fancy, aſſociating their paſt bloom with their preſent languor, ſupplies perhaps as much to the mind as is loſt by the eye. She ſuffers without complaining, and mournſ without oſtentation; and hears her father ſpoken of with ſuch ſolemn ſilent floods of tears, that ſhe looks like the original of Dryden'ſ beautiful portrait of the weeping Sigiſmunda.
The letter which condemned the father of theſe ladies, was not, it ſeems, written to himſelf, but to a brother, lately dead, whoſe executor he was, and of whoſe papers he thus became poſſeſſed. On this ground their friends engaged them to petition the Aſſembly for a reviſion of the ſentence, and the reſtoration of their property, which was in conſequence forfeited.
The daily profeſſions of the Convention, in favour of juſtice and humanity, and the return of the ſeventy-three impriſoned Deputies, had ſoothed theſe poor young women with the hopes of regaining their paternal inheritance, ſo iniquitouſly confiſcated. A petition was, therefore, forwarded to Paris about a fortnight ago; and the day before, the following decree was iſſued, which has ſilenced their claims for ever: "La Convention Nationale declare qu'elle n'admettra aucune demande en reviſion des jugemens criminels portant confiſcation de biens rendus et executes pendant la revolution."*
* "The National Convention hereby declares that it will admit no petitions for the reviſal of ſuch criminal ſentences, attended with confiſcation of property, as have been paſſed and executed ſince the revolution." Yet theſe revolutioniſts, who would hear nothing of repairing their own injuſtice, had occaſionally been annulling ſentences paſt half a century ago, and the more recent one of the Chevalier La Barre. But their own executions and confiſcations for an adherence to religion were to be held ſacred.—I ſhall be excuſed for introducing here a few words reſpecting the affair of La Barre, which has been a favourite topic with popular writers of a certain deſcription. The ſeverity of the puniſhment muſt, doubtleſs, be conſidered aſ diſgraceful to thoſe who adviſed as well as to thoſe who ſanctioned it: but we muſt not infer from hence that he merited no puniſhment at all; and perhaps degradation, ſome ſcandalous and public correction, with a few years ſolitary confinement, might have anſwered every purpoſe intended. La Barre was a young etourdi, under twenty, but of lively talents, which, unfortunately for him, had taken a very perverſe turn. The miſdemeanour commonly imputed to him and his aſſociates was, that they had mutilated a Chriſt which ſtood on the Pont-neuf at Abbeville: but La Barre had accuſtomed himſelf to take all opportunities of inſulting, with the moſt wanton malignity, theſe pious repreſentations, and eſpecially in the preſence of people, with whom his particular connections led him to aſſociate, and whoſe profeſſion could not allow them entirely to overlook ſuch affrontſ on what was deemed an appendage to the eſtabliſhed religion of the country. The people of Abbeville manifeſted their ſenſe of the buſineſs when d'Etalonde, La Barre's intimate friend, who had ſaved himſelf by flight, returned, after a long exile, under favour of the revolution. He was received in the neighbourhood with the moſt mortifying indifference. The decree of the Convention too, by which the memory of thiſ imprudent young man was re-eſtabliſhed, when promulgated, created about as much intereſt as any other law which did not immediately affect the property or awaken the apprehenſions of the hearers.
Madame de St. E__m__d told me her whole fortune was now reduced to a few Louis, and about ſix or ſeven thouſand livres in diamonds; that ſhe waſ unwilling to burden her aunt, who was not rich, and intended to make ſome advantage of her muſical talents, which are indeed conſiderable. But I could not, without anguiſh, hear an elegant young woman, with a heart half broken, propoſe to get her living by teaching muſic.—I know not that I ever paſſed a more melancholy day. In the afternoon we walked up and down the path of the village church-yard. The church was ſhut up, the roof in part untiled, the windows were broken, and the wooden croſſeſ that religion or tenderneſs had erected to commemorate the dead, broken and ſcattered about. Two labourers, and a black-ſmith in his working garb, came while we were there, and threw a ſort of uncouth wooden coffin haſtily into a hole dug for the purpoſe, which they then covered and left without farther ceremony. Yet this was the body of a lady regretted by a large family, who were thus obliged to conquer both their affection and their prejudices, and inter her according to the republican mode.*