—All, therefore, that can be obtained is, a promiſe to have us removed to Amiens in a ſhort time; and I underſtand the detenus are there treated with conſideration, and that no tribunal revolutionnaire has yet been eſtabliſhed.
My mind will be conſiderably more at eaſe if this removal can be effected. Perhaps we may not be in more real danger here than at any other place, but it is not realities that conſtitute the miſery of life; and ſituated as we are, that imagination muſt be phlegmatic indeed, which does not create and exaggerate enough to prevent the poſſibility of eaſe.—We are, as I before obſerved, placed as it were within the juriſdiction of the guillotine; and I have learned "a ſecret of our priſon-houſe" to-day which Mad. de ____ had hitherto concealed from me, and which has rendered me ſtill more anxious to quit it. Several of our fellow priſoners, whom I ſuppoſed only tranſferred to other houſes, have been taken away to undergo the ceremony of a trial, and from thence to the ſcaffold. Theſe judicial maſſacres are now become common, and the repetition of them has deſtroyed at once the feeling of humanity and the ſenſe of juſtice. Familiarized to executions, the thoughtleſs and ſanguinary people behold with equal indifference the guilty or innocent victim; and the Guillotine has not only ceaſed to be an object of horror, but is become almoſt a ſource of amuſement.
* At Arras this horrid inſtrument of death was what they called en permanence, (ſtationary,) and ſo little regard was paid to the morals of the people, (I ſay the morals, becauſe every thing which tends to deſtroy their humanity renders them vicious,) that it waſ often left from one execution to another with the enſanguined traceſ of the laſt victim but too evident.—Children were taught to amuſe themſelves by making models of the Guillotine, with which they deſtroyed flies, and even animals. On the Pontneuf, at Paris, a ſort of puppet-ſhow was exhibited daily, whoſe boaſt it was to give a very exact imitation of a guillotinage; and the burthen of a popular ſong current for ſome months was "Danſons la Guillotine." —On the 21ſt of January, 1794, the anniverſary of the King's death, the Convention were invited to celebrate it on the "Place de la Revolution," where, during the ceremony, and in preſence of the whole legiſlative body, ſeveral people were executed. It is true, Bourdon, one of the Deputies, complained of this indecency; but not ſo much on account of the circumſtance itſelf, as becauſe it gave ſome of the people an opportunity of telling him, in a ſort of way he might probably deem prophetic, that one of the victims was a Repreſentative of the People. The Convention pretended to order that ſome enquiry ſhould be made why at ſuch a moment ſuch a place was choſen; but the enquiry came to nothing, and I have no doubt but the executions were purpoſely intended as analogous to the ceremony.—It was proved that Le Bon, on an occaſion when he choſe to be a ſpectator of ſome executions he had been the cauſe of, ſuſpended the operation while he read the newſpaper aloud, in order, as he ſaid, that the ariſtocrates might go out of the world with the additional mortification of learning the ſucceſs of the republican arms in their laſt moments. The People of Breſt were ſuffered to behold, I had almoſt ſaid to be amuſed with (for if thoſe who order ſuch ſpectacles are deteſtable, the people that permit them are not free from blame,) the ſight of twenty-five heads ranged in a line, and ſtill convulſed with the agonies of death.—The cant word for the Guillotine was "our holy mother;" and verdicts of condemnation were called prizes in the Sainte Lotterie—"holy lottery."
The dark and ferocious character of Le Bon developes itſelf hourly: the whole department trembles before him; and thoſe who have leaſt merited perſecution are, with reaſon, the moſt apprehenſive. The moſt cautiouſ prudence of conduct, the moſt undeviating rectitude in thoſe who are by their fortune or rank obnoxious to the tyrant, far from contributing to their ſecurity, only mark them out for a more early ſacrifice. What iſ ſtill worſe, theſe horrors are not likely to terminate, becauſe he iſ allowed to pay out of the treaſury of the department the mob that are employed to popularize and applaud them.—I hope, in a few days, we ſhall receive our permiſſion to depart. My impatience is a malady, and, for nearly the firſt time in my life, I am ſenſible of ennui; not the ennui occaſioned by want of amuſement, but that which is the effect of unquiet expectation, and which makes both the mind and body reſtleſs and incapable of attending to any thing. I am inceſſantly haunted by the idea that the companion of to-day may to-morrow expire under the Guillotine, that the common acts of ſocial intercourſe may be explained into intimacy, intimacy into the participation of imputed treaſons, and the fate of thoſe with whom we are aſſociated become our own. It appearſ both uſeleſs and cruel to have brought us here, nor do I yet know any reaſon why we were not all removed to Amiens, except it was to avoid expoſing to the eyes of the people in the places through which we muſt paſs too large a number of victims at once.—The cauſe of our being removed from Peronne is indeed avowed, as it is at preſent a rule not to confine people at the place of their reſidence, leſt they ſhould have too much facility or communication with, or aſſiſtance from, their friends.*
* In ſome departments the nobles and prieſts arreſted were removed from ten to twenty leagues diſtant from their homes; and if they happened to have relations living at the places where they were confined, theſe laſt were forbidden to reſide there, or even to travel that way.
We ſhould doubtleſs have remained at Arras until ſome change in public affairs had procured our releaſe, but for the fortunate diſcovery of the man I have mentioned; and the trifling favour of removal from one priſon to another has been obtained only by certain arrangements which Fleury has made with this ſubordinate agent of tyranny, and in which juſtice or conſideration for us had no ſhare. Alaſ! are we not miſerable? is not the country miſerable, when our only reſource is in the vices of thoſe who govern?—It is uncertain when we ſhall be ordered from hence—it may happen when we leaſt expect it, even in the night, ſo that I ſhall not attempt to write again till we have changed our ſituation. The riſk iſ at preſent too ſerious, and you muſt allow my deſire of amuſing you to give way to my ſolicitude for my own preſervation.
Bicetre at Amiens, Nov. 18, 1793.
Nous voila donc encore, logees a la nation; that is to ſay, the common priſon of the department, amidſt the thieves, vagabonds, maniacs, &c. confined by the old police, and the gens ſuſpects recently arreſted by the new.—I write from the end of a ſort of elevated barn, ſixty or ſeventy feet long, where the interſtices of the tiles admit the wind from all quarters, and ſcarcely exclude the rain, and where an old ſcreen and ſome curtains only ſeparate Mad. de ____, myſelf, and our ſervants, from ſixty prieſts, moſt of them old, ſick, and as wretched as men can be, who are pious and reſigned. Yet even here I feel comparatively at eaſe, and an eſcape from the juriſdiction of Le Bon and his mercileſs tribunal ſeems cheaply purchaſed by the ſacrifice of our perſonal convenience. I do not pretend to philoſophize or ſtoicize, or to any thing elſe which implies a contempt of life—I have, on the contrary, a moſt unheroic ſolicitude about my exiſtence, and conſider my removal to a place where I think we are ſafe, as a very fortunate aera of our captivity.
After many delays and diſappointments, Fleury at length procured an order, ſigned by the Repreſentative, for our being tranſferred to Amiens, under the care of two Gardes Nationalaux, and, of courſe, at our expence.—Every thing in this country wears the aſpect of deſpotiſm. At twelve o'clock at night we were awakened by the officer on guard, and informed we were to depart on the morrow; and, notwithſtanding the difficulty of procuring horſes and carriages, it was ſpecified, that if we did not go on the day appointed, we were not to go at all. It was, or courſe, late before we could ſurmount the various obſtacles to our journey, and procure two crazy cabriolets, and a cart for the guards, ourſelves, and baggage. The days being ſhort, we were obliged to ſleep at Dourlens; and, on our arrival at the caſtle, which is now, as it always has been, a ſtate-priſon, we were told it was ſo full, that it waſ abſolutely impoſſible to lodge us, and that we had better apply to the Governor, for permiſſion to ſleep at an inn. We then drove to the Governor'ſ* houſe, who received us very civilly, and with very little perſuaſion agreed to our requeſt. At the beſt of the miſerable inns in the town we were informed they had no room, and that they could not accommodate us in any way whatever, except a ſick officer then in the houſe would permit us to occupy one of two beds in his apartment.