Were I a mere ſpectator, without fear for myſelf or compaſſion for others, the ſituation of this country would be ſufficiently amuſing. The effects produced (many perhaps unavoidably) by a ſtate of revolution—the ſtrange remedies deviſed to obviate them—the alternate neglect and ſeverity with which the laws are executed—the mixture of want and profuſion that diſtinguiſh the lower claſſes of people—and the diſtreſſ and humiliation of the higher; all offer ſcenes ſo new and unaccountable, as not to be imagined by a perſon who has lived only under a regular government, where the limits of authority are defined, the neceſſaries of life plentiful, and the people rational and ſubordinate. The conſequences of a general ſpirit of monopoly, which I formerly deſcribed, have lately been ſo oppreſſive, that the Convention thought it neceſſary to interfere, and in ſo extraordinary a way, that I doubt if (as uſual) "the diſtemper of their remedieſ" will not make us regret the original diſeaſe. Almoſt every article, by having paſſed through a variety of hands, had become enormouſly dear; which, operating with a real ſcarcity of many things, occaſioned by the war, had excited univerſal murmuringſ and inquietude. The Convention, who know the real ſource of the evil (the diſcredit of aſſignats) to be unattainable, and who are more ſolicitous to divert the clamours of the people, than to ſupply their wants, have adopted a meaſure which, according to the preſent appearances, will ruin one half of the nation, and ſtarve the other. A maximum, or higheſt price, beyond which nothing is to be ſold, is now promulgated under very ſevere penalties for all who ſhall infringe it. Such a regulation as this, muſt, in its nature, be highly complex, and, by way of ſimplifying it, the price of every kind of merchandiſe is fixed at a third above what it bore in 1791: but as no diſtinction is made between the produce of the country, and articles imported—between the ſmall retailer, who has purchaſed perhaps at double the rate he iſ allowed to ſell at, and the wholeſale ſpeculator, this very ſimplification renders the whole abſurd and inexecutable.—The reſult waſ ſuch as might have been expected; previous to the day on which the decree was to take place, ſhopkeepers ſecreted as many of their goods as they could; and, when the day arrived, the people laid ſiege to them in crowds, ſome buying at the maximum, others leſs ceremonious, and in a few hours little remained in the ſhop beyond the fixtures. The farmers have ſince brought neither butter nor eggs to market, the butchers refuſe to kill as uſual, and, in ſhort, nothing is to be purchaſed openly. The country people, inſtead of ſelling proviſions publicly, take them to private houſes; and, in addition to the former exorbitant prices, we are taxed for the riſk that is incurred by evading the law. A dozen of eggs, or a leg of mutton, are now conveyed from houſe to houſe with as much myſtery, as a caſe of fire-arms, or a treaſonable correſpondence; the whole republic is in a ſort of training like the Spartan youth; and we are obliged to have recourſe to dexterity and intrigue to procure us a dinner.
Our legiſlators, aware of what they term the "ariſtocratie marchande,"— that is to ſay, that tradeſmen would naturally ſhut up their ſhops when nothing was to be gained—provided, by a clauſe in the above law, that no one ſhould do this in leſs time than a year; but as the injunction only obliged them to keep the ſhops open, and not to have goods to ſell, every demand is at firſt always anſwered in the negative, till a ſort of intelligence becomes eſtabliſhed betwixt the buyer and ſeller, when the former, if he may be truſted, is informed in a low key, that certain articles may be had, but not au maximum.—Thus even the rich cannot obtain the neceſſaries of life without difficulty and ſubmitting to impoſition—and the decent poor, who will not pillage nor intimidate the tradeſmen, are more embarraſſed than ever.
The above ſpecies of contraband commerce is carried on, indeed, with great circumſpection, and no avowed hoſtilities are attempted in the towns. The great war of the maximum was waged with the farmers and higlers, as ſoon as it was diſcovered that they took their commoditieſ privily to ſuch people as they knew would buy at any price, rather than not be ſupplied. In conſequence, the guards were ordered to ſtop all refractory butter-women at the gates, and conduct them to the town-houſe, where their merchandize was diſtributed, without pity or appeal, au maximum, to thoſe of the populace who could clamour loudeſt.
Theſe proceedings alarmed the peaſants, and our markets became deſerted. New ſtratagems, on one ſide, new attacks on the other. The ſervants were forced to ſupply themſelves at private rendezvous in the night, until ſome were fined, and others arreſted; and the ſearching all comers from the country became more intolerable than the vexations of the ancient Gabelle.—Detachments of dragoons are ſent to ſcour the farm-yards, arreſt the farmers, and bring off in triumph whatever the reſtive houſewives have amaſſed, to be more profitably diſpoſed of.
In this ſituation we remain, and I ſuppoſe ſhall remain, while the law of the maximum continues in force. The principle of it was certainly good, but it is found impoſſible to reduce it to practice ſo equitably as to affect all alike: and as laws which are not executed are for the moſt part rather pernicious than nugatory, informations, arreſts, impoſition, and ſcarcity are the only ends which this meaſure ſeems to have anſwered.
The houſes of detention, before inſupportable, are now yet more crouded with farmers and ſhopkeepers ſuſpected of oppoſing the law.—Many of the former are ſo ignorant, as not to conceive that any circumſtances ought to deprive them of the right to ſell the produce of their farms at the higheſt price they can get, and regard the maximum much in the ſame light as they would a law to authorize robbing or houſebreaking: as for the latter, they are chiefly ſmall dealers, who bought dearer than they have ſold, and are now impriſoned for not ſelling articles which they have not got. An informer by trade, or a perſonal enemy, lodges an accuſation againſt a particular tradeſman for concealing goods, or not ſelling au maximum; and whether the accuſation be true or falſe, if the accuſed iſ not in office, or a Jacobin, he has very little chance of eſcaping impriſonment.—It is certain, that if the perſecution of theſe claſſes of people continue, and commerce (already nearly annihilated by the war) be thus ſhackled, an abſolute want of various articles of primary conſumption muſt enſue; but if Paris and the armies can be ſupplied, the ſtarving the departments will be a mere pleaſurable experiment to their humane repreſentativeſ!
March 1, 1794.
The freedom of the preſs is ſo perfectly well regulated, that it is not ſurprizing we are indulged with the permiſſion of ſeeing the public papers: yet this indulgence is often, I aſſure you, a ſource of much perplexity to me—our more intimate aſſociates know that I am a native of England, and as often as any debates of our Houſe of Commons are publiſhed, they apply to me for explanations which it is not always in my power to give them. I have in vain endeavoured to make them comprehend the nature of an oppoſition from ſyſtem, ſo that when they ſee any thing advanced by a member exactly the reverſe of truth, they are wondering how he can be ſo ill informed, and never ſuſpect him of ſaying what he doeſ not believe himſelf. It muſt be confeſſed, however, that our extractſ from the Engliſh papers often form ſo complete a contraſt with facts, that a foreigner unacquainted with the tactics of profeſſional patriotiſm, may very naturally read them with ſome ſurprize. A noble Peer, for example, (whoſe wiſdom is not to be diſputed, ſince the Abbe Mably calls him the Engliſh Socrates,*) aſſerts that the French troopſ are the beſt clothed in Europe; yet letters, of nearly the ſame date with the Earl's ſpeech, from two Generals and a Deputy at the head of different armies intreat a ſupply of covering for their denudated legions, and add, that they are obliged to march in wooden ſhoeſ!**
* It is ſurely a reflection on the Engliſh diſcernment not to have adopted this happy appellation, in which, however, as well as in many other parts of "the rights of Man and the Citizen," the Abbe ſeems to have conſulted his own zeal, rather than the noble Peer'ſ modeſty. ** If the French troops are now better clothed, it is the effect of requiſitions and pre-emptions, which have ruined the manufacturers. —Patriots of the North, would you wiſh to ſee our ſoldiers clothed by the ſame means?