"By all means," said he, "let us change it. We are a ruined and undone people since we lost our King. The great nation are a people without a head; and, when a house wants the head, all goes wrong."
"You and I are at one on this point," replied I. "But how comes it that you are as democratic as any one in the neighbourhood when politics is the subject of discourse? It is not so in Britain. Every man speaks his mind; yet we have a king and a kingly government. I was led to believe, before I left home, that in France alone there was liberty: for all men were equal—freedom and equality being the law of the land."
"O Monsieur Elder!" exclaimed he, "freedom and equality are the worst tyranny, as I shall shew you by my sad experience. When all men make the law, who is to obey? Better one tyrant than one million; for, when every one thinks he is a law-maker, no one thinks of obeying the law farther than it pleases himself. Listen to me; and you shall hear the truth as I have experienced it, and many thousands in France as well as I:—
"When first the people of France began to give attention to the writers and haranguers against the oppression which we, no doubt, suffered, no one was more enthusiastic than I was for the removal of the abuses; and I thought no sacrifice could be too great to have them removed. I was, at the time, carpenter to the great chateau which you see in the distance. Our old lord, who was a severe master, had died only a few years before, and had not the love of a single peasant in his wide domains; but his son was the reverse of his parent—the friend and benefactor of every one on his estate; yet he inherited a fund of animosity which it would have taken years of his kindness and humanity to have obliterated. In this state of matters, the troubles broke out. He was on the side of the people, and aided, as far as in him lay, the cause of improvement in the state, until the factions in Paris—who, ruling the silly multitude, led them to believe that they were ruled by them—struck at the root of all good government by insulting and imprisoning the King. From this time, he took no active part in the commotions, but remained at his chateau. I was his overseer, and managed his affairs. I loved him with all my soul, for he was worthy of my love. My ideas went still farther than his went, and I felt not displeased with anything that had as yet occurred; for I knew the tenacity with which the aristocracy clung to their privileges; but the cunning and designing men who, under the faint shew of obeying the people, ruled them at their will for mischief and disorder, ultimately, by taking the life of the King, took the key-stone out of the arch which sheltered the people, and brought the whole fabric of civil order about their ears. I was confounded at the blindness I had laboured under; and, from that hour, my whole ideas changed. But, alas! it was too late; and even those that had lent a willing hand trembled at the mischief they had done. Benefits are soon forgot; but the remembrance of injuries are indelible. Numbers of needy plunderers had arrived from Paris, and overspread these peaceful plains like evil spirits, rousing the worst feeling of our peasantry into action. As yet, no serious outrage had been committed in this quarter; but I too plainly saw that it would not long be deferred. I requested my dear master to fly, as many others had done; for blood had begun to flow like water in Paris and the provinces—not the blood of the guilty, but the blood of the noble and virtuous; for, alas! France had become the arena in the remorseless war of poverty against property. The whole fabric of social order had been dissolved, and men had returned to their original state of barbarism; like jackalls or wolves, only banding together when they scented plunder. To be rich or nobly born was a crime of the deepest dye, only to be atoned by blood. I, with extreme pain, saw the storm gathering, and could only deplore it; and what added to my anguish, was, I dared not argue against them; for our old and worthy magistrates had been deposed, and others, more in the spirit of the times, appointed. As yet, no blood had been shed in Perche, but numbers were immured in prison; and, had I given the least cause of suspicion, I would have been placed beyond the power of lending that aid to the distressed which I was resolved to afford them, or perish in the attempt. Several times I had entreated my young lord to fly, and avoid the storm; but my entreaties were in vain. He thought far too well of his fellow-men.
"At length a rumour reached us that two commissioners were on their way to the chateau to sequestrate it for the use of the state: immediately there was a violent commotion amongst the people—fearful of losing their share of the plunder, all marched in a tumultuous manner to assault it. Aware of what might ensue—for blood had begun to flow—I got my young lord disguised as one of my workmen, and set to his bench—that very one at which you work—and joined the crowd as they approached the chateau. To prevent suspicion, no one shouted louder than I, 'Down with the Tyrants!'—'Down with the Aristocrats!'—'Vive la Nation!'—'Vive la Republique!' We entered the chateau, which was searched in vain for my young lord. It was now that the true spirit of the peasantry shewed itself in all its deformity; everything of value was in a short time carried off or destroyed; while every quarter resounded with execrations and cries for blood—the oppressions of the father were alone remembered. How it occurred I have yet to learn, but the youthful aristocrat was discovered in my shop; this was a severe blow to me, for I was immediately seized by the furious crowd, charged by them with the worst of crimes in their eyes, the concealing from them a victim of their rage. It was a fearful hour. I expected to have been torn to pieces upon the spot. My presence of mind did not forsake me: I begged to be heard before the fatal daggers that were brandished around reached my heart. I stood firm until a pause of the storm, when I appealed to them not for mercy, but for revenge—revenge upon my lord before I died. "I have been betrayed," I cried, "by some one. I appeal to yourselves for my former love of my country. Let me die, but let it be for my country, and let me be revenged upon the tyrants. Fire the chateau!—'Vive la Nation,' 'A bas les Aristocrats,' 'Vive la Republique'—and let me die by the light of the stronghold of tyranny enveloped in flames."
"I now breathed more freely. Shouts rent the air; for like a weathercock is a mob—ever pointing as the last breath of wind blows. 'Vive Vauquin!' resounded from every lip; the chateau was enveloped in flames; its owner immersed in a dungeon to await his doom, already fixed before the mock forms of justice were gone through. Think not the worse of me for the part I acted; every paper and article of plate had been concealed for some days before. To save, if possible, his life, no one was louder in denouncing my lord than myself, for his having dared to conceal himself in my shop. At my return, I began seriously to turn over in my mind what steps I was next to pursue for his safety, now rendered difficult, almost beyond my power to overcome. I feared not death, nor any danger to myself, could my object have been attained by it. There was not a moment to be lost; the following day was to have been the day of his trial and death. The commissioners had arrived from Paris, and a fête was resolved to be got up to welcome them. In a state of anxiety I can hardly describe, I bustled about and waited upon the commissioners; but my chief object was to ascertain the exact spot where the aristocrats were confined. My lord was my chiefest care, for however much I had, at the commencement of the revolution, wished for the abused power of the nobles to be reduced, I had no wish for their ruin, far less their murder; judge my horror when I learned that he was in the lower dungeon of the prison, to which there was only one entrance through the guard-room, which was constantly filled by the soldiers on guard. With a heart void of hope I returned to my home. In an agony of mind I threw myself upon my couch, that if possible I might exclude every other thought but the one that I wished to fix my whole attention upon: while I walked about, I felt like one distracted. At length, I was so fortunate as to call to mind having, when a boy, heard my father tell that he had assisted my grandfather in securing a door into the lower dungeon, that led into another even more loathsome, where the Huguenots were wont to be confined in the time of Louis the Fourteenth; this had a door which led into the outer court of the prison, the walls of which were in the hinder part, ruinous and neglected, as few of the present people in authority knew of such a dungeon; the old door having been long built up. A faint ray of hope shot through my mind; I started from my bed, and, concealing what tools I judged to be necessary, proceeded to the jail without being perceived—this was rendered the more easy as every one was engaged preparing for the fête. I remained under the shelter of the ruined wall until it was quite dark. A voice of mirth and revelry sounded in the front of that prison, whose gloomy walls and strong iron barred windows might, and no doubt did, enclose hearts more sorrowful than mine, but none more anxious. My situation, solitary as it was, was full of peril—I might be missed at the fête, and suspicion roused if I was so fortunate as to succeed; but I allowed no selfish thought to intrude. I was so fortunate as to find the low arched door I had heard my father speak of; after considerable labour it yielded to my efforts, and I entered the low and noisesome vault which had heard and re-echoed the groans of so many victims of tyranny whose only fault was adhering to the dictates of their consciences against an intolerant priesthood. So baleful was the air I breathed, that I was forced to retire, or I had fallen to the damp floor; again I entered, for I heard the voice of my lord in prayer, and felt a new sort of assurance arise in my mind; there was no distinguishing one object from another, so impenetrable was the darkness, and the faint sound appeared to come from no particular side of the dungeon. I commenced groping with my hands, from the entrance, along the walls; it was a loathsome task, for they were damp and ropy, and loathsome reptiles ever and anon made me withdraw my fingers; still I groped on. At length I succeeded; the door was forced to yield to my skill and efforts; all that divided me from him I sought was the strong planks and plaster. I struck a sharp single blow upon it, and paused—the voice of my master had ceased from the commencement of my work upon the second door. It was a period of intense anxiety, lest he should alarm his guards, if any of them had been in his dungeon. To my first signal no answer was made: he knew not that he had a friend so near, willing to sacrifice everything for his rescue. I struck a second blow, and again listened; I heard him utter a faint exclamation of surprise, and all was again still. The third time I struck, and I heard a movement on the other side: the plaster was struck, piercing a small hole, and we were enabled to communicate. I found he was alone in his dismal dungeon. It was agreed that I was to return in two hours with a disguise for him, after I had appeared at the fête; and, in the meantime, I loosened the fastening so as he could easily force it away should any thing happen to prevent my return; and, these arrangements being made, I took my departure, in the same stealthy manner in which I had reached him.
"With my heart still anxious but more at ease, I joined the festive throng, and, joining in the dance for a short time, then retired, got all ready, returned, with a view to relieve my lord from his dungeon, and had the unspeakable pleasure to see him beyond its walls, dressed as a peasant girl. Our parting was brief but sincere, my wishes for his safety were equal to the extent of my love, but I have never heard of him since; whether he went for La Vendee, or joined the allied army, I never knew. As soon as I saw him safe out of the town, I returned to the joyous group, and was among the last to leave it. My share in the escape of my noble master was never even suspected; but from this time I have wished the fall of the tyrants that have ruled France with a rod of iron, and for the return of our King and nobility, until which time we can never hope for tranquillity. I am not displeased at what can assist in aiding their overthrow but I feel, as a true Frenchman, humbled at every defeat our brave forces sustain. I love the beautiful fields of France and all her sons, but I hate the demagogues who at present rule her destinies."
Had I not been an exile against my will, I never had been more happy in my life than I was at this time. I, no doubt, was a prisoner of war; but it was only in name. I never saw my prison but once a-week, when I appeared at the muster to receive my jail allowance, and returned to citizen Vauquin's in a few hours after, or strayed where I chose within the proscribed distance. Our visits to the prison always gave rise to an afternoon of merriment and pleasure—a meeting of friends. Not one of us wished to escape, or desired an exchange.
I was always a fortunate fellow. The four months I was here I improved much in my drawing, and found the instructions of poor Walden of the utmost service to me; and I was much benefited by a relation of Vauquin's, who had studied the arts at Paris. It was thus I spent my evenings; but I was never as yet allowed to enjoy my good fortune long. We were ordered to be marched to the coast at Saint Malos, where a cartel was to be in readiness to receive us. I bade adieu to my kind friend, Citizen Vauquin, not without regret, and set out for the coast. There was not a trace of pleasure at our release among us; we had no cause, at least nine-tenths of us. For, as Bill Wates had foretold, off Jersey we were brought too by the Ramillies, and crowded on board her. The greater part were draughted to other men-of-war, but in her I remained until she was paid off, at the peace.