Читать книгу A Residence in France During the Years 1792, 1793, 1794 and 1795, Complete - Charlotte Biggs - Страница 47

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Before theſe halcyon days of freedom, the ſupremacy of Paris was little felt in the provinces, except in dictating a new faſhion in dreſs, an improvement in the art of cookery, or the invention of a minuet. At preſent our imitations of the capital are ſomething more ſerious; and if our obedience be not quite ſo voluntary, it is much more implicit. Inſtead of receiving faſhions from the Court, we take them now from the dames des balles, [Market-women.] and the municipality; and it muſt be allowed, that the imaginations of our new ſovereigns much exceed thoſe of the old in force and originality.

The mode of pillaging the ſhops, for inſtance, was firſt deviſed by the Pariſian ladies, and has lately been adopted with great ſucceſs in the departments; the viſite domiciliaire, alſo, which I look upon as a moſt ingenious effort of fancy, is an emanation from the commune of Paris, and has had an univerſal run.—But it would be vain to attempt enumerating all the obligations of this kind which we owe to the indulgence of that virtuous city: our laſt importation, however, is of ſo ſingular a nature, that, were we not daily aſſured all the liberty in the world centers in Paris, I ſhould be doubtful as to its tendency. It has lately been decreed, that every houſe in the republic ſhall have fixed on the outſide of the door, in legible characters, the name, age, birth-place, and profeſſion of its inhabitants. Not the pooreſt cottager, nor thoſe who are too old or too young for action, nor even unmarried ladies, are exempt from thus proclaiming the abſtract of their hiſtory to paſſers-by. —The reigning party judge very wiſely, that all thoſe who are not already their enemies may become ſo, and that thoſe who are unable to take a part themſelves may excite others: but, whatever may be the intention of this meaſure, it is impoſſible to conceive any thing which could better ſerve the purpoſes of an arbitrary government; it placeſ every individual in the republic within the immediate reach of informerſ and ſpieſ—it points out thoſe who are of an age to ſerve in the army—thoſe who have ſought refuge in one department from the perſecutions of another—and, in ſhort, whether a victim is purſued by the denunciation of private malice, or political ſuſpicion, it renders eſcape almoſt impracticable.

We have had two domiciliary viſits within the laſt fortnight—one to ſearch for arms, the other under pretext of aſcertaining the number of troops each houſe is capable of lodging. But this was only the pretext, becauſe the municipalities always quarter troops as they think proper, without conſidering whether you have room or not; and the real object of this inquiſition was to obſerve if the inhabitants anſwered to the liſtſ placed on the doors.—Mrs. D____ was ill in bed, but you muſt not imagine ſuch a circumſtance deterred theſe gallant republicans from entering her room with an armed force, to calculate how many ſoldiers might be lodged in the bedchamber of a ſick female! The French, indeed, had never, in my remembrance, any pretenſions to delicacy, or even decency, and they are certainly not improved in theſe reſpects by the revolution.

It is curious in walking the ſtreets, to obſerve the devices of the ſeveral claſſes of ariſtocracy; for it is not to be diſguiſed, that ſince the hope from Dumouriez has vaniſhed, though the diſguſt of the people may be increaſed, their terror is alſo greater than ever, and the departments near Paris have no reſource but ſilent ſubmiſſion. Every one, therefore, obeys the letter of the decrees with the diligence of fear, while they elude the ſpirit of them with all the ingenuity of hatred. The rich, for example, who cannot entirely diveſt themſelves of their remaining hauteur, exhibit a ſullen compliance on a ſmall piece of paper, written in a ſmall hand, and placed at the very extreme of the height allowed by the law. Some fix their bills ſo as to be half covered by a ſhutter; others faſten them only with wafers, ſo that the wind detaching one or two corners, makes it impoſſible to read the reſt.*

* This contrivance became ſo common, that an article was obliged to be added to the decree, importing, that whenever the papers were damaged or effaced by the weather, or deranged by the wind, the inhabitants ſhould replace them, under a penalty.

Many who have courts or paſſages to their houſes, put their names on the half of a gate which they leave open, ſo that the writing is not perceptible but to thoſe who enter. But thoſe who are moſt afraid, or moſt decidedly ariſtocrates, ſubjoin to their regiſters, "All good republicans:" or, "Vive la republique, une et indiviſible." ["The republic, one and indiviſible for ever!"] Some likewiſe, who are in public offices, or ſhopkeepers who are very timid, and afraid of pillage, or are ripe for a counter-revolution, have a ſheet half the ſize of the door, decorated with red caps, tri-coloured ribbons, and flaming ſentences ending in "Death or Liberty!"

If, however, the French government confined itſelf to theſe petty acts of deſpotiſm, I would endeavour to be reconciled to it; but I really begin to have ſerious apprehenſions, not ſo much for our ſafety as our tranquillity, and if I conſidered only myſelf, I ſhould not heſitate to return to England. Mrs. D____ is too ill to travel far at preſent, and her dread of croſſing the ſea makes her leſs diſpoſed to think our ſituation here hazardous or ineligible. Mr. D____, too, who, without being a republican or a partizan of the preſent ſyſtem, has always been a friend to the firſt revolution, is unwilling to believe the Convention ſo bad as there is every reaſon to ſuppoſe it. I therefore let my judgement yield to my friendſhip, and, as I cannot prevail on them to depart, the danger which may attend our remaining is an additional reaſon for my not quitting them.

The national perfidy which has always diſtinguiſhed France among the other countries of Europe, ſeems now not to be more a diplomatic principle, than a rule of domeſtic government. It is ſo extended and generalized, that an individual is as much liable to be deceived and betrayed by confiding in a decree, as a foreign power would be by relying on the faith of a treaty.—An hundred and twenty prieſts, above ſixty years of age, who had not taken the oaths, but who were allowed to remain by the ſame law that baniſhed thoſe who were younger, have been lately arreſted, and are confined together in a houſe which was once a college. The people did not behold this act of cruelty with indifference, but, awed by an armed force, and the preſence of the Commiſſioners of the Convention, they could only follow the prieſts to their priſon with ſilent regret and internal horror. They, however, venture even now to mark their attachment, by taking all opportunities of ſeeing them, and ſupplying them with neceſſaries, which it is not very difficult to do, aſ they are guarded by the Bourgeois, who are generally inclined to favour them. I aſked a woman to-day if ſhe ſtill contrived to have acceſs to the prieſts, and ſhe replied, "Ah, oui, il y a encore de la facilite, par ce que l'on ne trouve pas des gardes ici qui ne ſont pas pour eux."*

* "Yes, yes, we ſtill contive it, becauſe there are no guards to be found here who don't befriend them."

Thus, even the moſt minute and beſt organized tyranny may be eluded; and, indeed, if all the agents of this government acted in the ſpirit of itſ decrees, it would be inſupportable even to a native of Turkey or Japan. But if ſome have ſtill a remnant of humanity left, there are a ſufficient number who execute the laws as unfeelingly as they are conceived.

When theſe poor prieſts were to be removed from their ſeveral houſes, it was found neceſſary to diſlodge the Biſhop of Amiens, who had for ſome time occupied the place fixed on for their reception. The Biſhop had notice given him at twelve o'clock in the day to relinquiſh his lodging before evening; yet the Biſhop of Amiens is a conſtitutional Prelate, and had, before the revolution, the cure of a large pariſh at Paris; nor waſ it without much perſuaſion that he accepted the ſee of Amiens. In the ſevere winter of 1789 he diſpoſed of his plate and library, (the latter of which was ſaid to be one of the beſt private collections in Paris,) to purchaſe bread for the poor. "But Time hath a wallet on his back, wherein he puts alms for oblivion;" and the charities of the Biſhop could not ſhield him from the contempt and inſult which purſue his profeſſion.

I have been much diſtreſſed within the laſt few days on account of my friend Madame de B____. I ſubjoining a tranſlation of a letter I have juſt received from her, as it will convey to you hereafter a tolerable ſpecimen of French liberty.

"Maiſon de Arret, at ____. "I did not write to you, my dear friend, at the time I promiſed, and you will perceive, by the date of this, that I have had too good an excuſe for my negligence. I have been here almoſt a week, and my ſpirits are ſtill ſo much diſordered, that I can with difficulty recollect myſelf enough to relate the circumſtances of our unfortunate ſituation; but as it is poſſible you might become acquainted with them by ſome other means, I rather determined to ſend you a few lines, than ſuffer you to be alarmed by falſe or exaggerated reports. "About two o'clock on Monday morning laſt our ſervants were called up, and, on their opening the door, the houſe was immediately filled with armed men, ſome of whom began ſearching the rooms, while otherſ came to our bedchamber, and informed us we were arreſted by order of the department, and that we muſt riſe and accompany them to priſon. It is not eaſy to deſcribe the effect of ſuch a mandate on people who, having nothing to reproach themſelves with, could not be prepared for it.—As ſoon as we were a little recovered from our firſt terrors, we endeavoured to obey, and begged they would indulge us by retiring a few moments till I had put my clothes on; but neither my embarraſſment, nor the ſcreams of the child—neither decency nor humanity, could prevail. They would not even permit my maid to enter the room; and, amidſt this ſcene of diſorder, I waſ obliged to dreſs myſelf and the terrified infant. When thiſ unpleaſant taſk was finiſhed, a general examination of our houſe and papers took place, and laſted until ſix in the evening: nothing, however, tending in the remoteſt degree to criminate us was found, but we were nevertheleſs conducted to priſon, and God knows how long we are likely to remain here. The denunciation againſt us being ſecret, and not being able to learn either our crime or our accuſers, it is difficult for us to take any meaſures for our enlargement. We cannot defend ourſelves againſt a charge of which we are ignorant, nor combat the validity of a witneſs, who is not only allowed to remain ſecret, but is paid perhaps for hiſ information.* * At this time informers were paid from fifty to an hundred livres for each accuſation. "We moſt probably owe our miſfortune to ſome diſcarded ſervant or perſonal enemy, for I believe you are convinced we have not merited it either by our diſcourſe or our actions: if we had, the charge would have been ſpecific; but we have reaſon to imagine it iſ nothing more than the indeterminate and general charge of being ariſtocrates. I did not ſee my mother or ſiſter all the day we were arreſted, nor till the evening of the next: the one was engaged perhaps with "Roſine and the Angola", who were indiſpoſed, and the other would not forego her uſual card-party. Many of our friendſ likewiſe have forborne to approach us, leſt their apparent intereſt in our fate ſhould involve themſelves; and really the alarm is ſo general, that I can, without much effort, forgive them. "You will be pleaſed to learn, that the greateſt civilities I have received in this unpleaſant ſituation, have been from ſome of your countrymen, who are our fellow-priſoners: they are only poor ſailors, but they are truly kind and attentive, and do us variouſ little ſervices that render us more comfortable than we otherwiſe ſhould be; for we have no ſervants here, having deemed it prudent to leave them to take care of our property. The ſecond night we were here, theſe good creatures, who lodge in the next room, were rather merry, and awoke the child; but as they found, by its cries, that their gaiety had occaſioned me ſome trouble, I have obſerved ever ſince that they walk ſoftly, and avoid making the leaſt noiſe, after the little priſoner is gone to reſt. I believe they are pleaſed with me becauſe I ſpeak their language, and they are ſtill more delighted with your young favourite, who is ſo well amuſed, that he begins to forget the gloom of the place, which at firſt terrified him extremely. "One of our companions is a nonjuring prieſt, who has been impriſoned under circumſtances which make me almoſt aſhamed of my country.—After having eſcaped from a neighbouring department, he procured himſelf a lodging in this town, and for ſome time lived very peaceably, till a woman, who ſuſpected his profeſſion, became extremely importunate with him to confeſs her. The poor man, for ſeveral days, refuſed, telling her, that he did not conſider himſelf as a prieſt, nor wiſhed to be known as ſuch, nor to infringe the law which excluded him. The woman, however, ſtill continued to perſecute him, alledging, that her conſcience was diſtreſſed, and that her peace depended on her being able to confeſs "in the right way." At length he ſuffered himſelf to be prevailed upon—the woman received an hundred livres for informing againſt him, and, perhaps, the prieſt will be condemned to the Guillotine.* * He was executed ſome time after. "I will make no reflection on this act, nor on the ſyſtem of paying informerſ—your heart will already have anticipated all I could ſay. I will only add, that if you determine to remain in France, you muſt obſerve a degree of circumſpection which you may not hitherto have thought neceſſary. Do not depend on your innocence, nor even truſt to common precautionſ—every day furniſhes examples that both are unavailing.—Adieu.—My huſband offers you his reſpects, and your little friend embraces you ſincerely. As ſoon as any change in our favour takes place, I will communicate it to you; but you had better not venture to write—I entruſt this to Louiſon's mother, who iſ going through Amiens, as it would be unſafe to ſend it by the poſt. —Again adieu.—Yours, "Adelaide de ____." Amiens, 1793.

It is obſervable, that we examine leſs ſcrupulouſly the pretenſions of a nation to any particular excellence, than we do thoſe of an individual. The reaſon of this is, probably, that our ſelf-love is as much gratified by admitting the one, as in rejecting the other. When we allow the claims of a whole people, we are flattered with the idea of being above narrow prejudices, and of poſſeſſing an enlarged and liberal mind; but if a ſingle individual arrogate to himſelf any excluſive ſuperiority, our own pride immediately becomes oppoſed to his, and we ſeem but to vindicate our judgement in degrading ſuch preſumption.

I can conceive no other cauſes for our having ſo long acquieſced in the claims of the French to pre-eminent good breeding, in an age when, I believe, no perſon acquainted with both nations can diſcover any thing to juſtify them. If indeed politeneſs conſiſted in the repetition of a certain routine of phraſes, unconnected with the mind or action, I might be obliged to decide againſt our country; but while decency makes a part of good manners, or feeling is preferable to a mechanical jargon, I am inclined to think the Engliſh have a merit more than they have hitherto aſcribed to themſelves. Do not ſuppoſe, however, that I am going to deſcant on the old imputations of "French flattery," and "French inſincerity;" for I am far from concluding that civil behaviour gives one a right to expect kind offices, or that a man is falſe becauſe he pays a compliment, and refuſes a ſervice: I only wiſh to infer, that an impertinence is not leſs an impertinence becauſe it is accompanied by a certain ſet of words, and that a people, who are indelicate to exceſs, cannot properly be denominated "a polite people."

A French man or woman, with no other apology than "permettez moi," ["Give me leave."] will take a book out of your hand, look over any thing you are reading, and aſk you a thouſand queſtions relative to your moſt private concernſ—they will enter your room, even your bedchamber, without knocking, place themſelves between you and the fire, or take hold of your clothes to gueſs what they coſt; and they deem theſe acts of rudeneſs ſufficiently qualified by "Je demande bien de pardons." ["I aſk you a thouſand pardons."]—They are fully convinced that the Engliſh all eat with their knives, and I have often heard this diſcuſſed with much ſelf-complacence by thoſe who uſually ſhared the labours of the repaſt between a fork and their fingers. Our cuſtom alſo of uſing water-glaſſes after dinner is an object of particular cenſure; yet whoever dines at a French table muſt frequently obſerve, that many of the gueſtſ might benefit by ſuch ablutions, and their napkins always teſtify that ſome previous application would be by no means ſuperfluous. Nothing iſ more common than to hear phyſical derangements, diſorders, and their remedies, expatiated upon by the parties concerned amidſt a room full of people, and that with ſo much minuteneſs of deſcription, that a foreigner, without being very faſtidious, is on ſome occaſions apt to feel very unpleaſant ſympathies. There are ſcarcely any of the ceremonies of a lady's toilette more a myſtery to one ſex than the other, and men and their wives, who ſcarcely eat at the ſame table, are in thiſ reſpect groſſly familiar. The converſation in moſt ſocieties partakes of this indecency, and the manners of an Engliſh female are in danger of becoming contaminated, while ſhe is only endeavouring to ſuffer without pain the cuſtoms of thoſe ſhe has been taught to conſider as models of politeneſs.

Whether you examine the French in their houſes or in public, you are every where ſtricken with the ſame want of delicacy, propriety, and cleanlineſs. The ſtreets are moſtly ſo filthy, that it is perilous to approach the walls. The inſides of the churches are often diſguſting, in ſpite of the advertiſements that are placed in them to requeſt the forbearance of phthifical perſons: the ſervice does not prevent thoſe who attend from going to and fro with the ſame irreverence as if the church were empty; and, in the moſt ſolemn part of the maſs, a woman is ſuffered to importune you for a liard, as the price of the chair you ſit on. At the theatres an actor or actreſs frequently coughs and expectorates on the ſtage, in a manner one ſhould think highly unpardonable before one'ſ moſt intimate friends in England, though this habit is very common to all the French. The inns abound with filth of every kind, and though the owners of them are generally civil enough, their notions of what iſ decent are ſo very different from ours, that an Engliſh traveller is not ſoon reconciled to them. In ſhort, it would be impoſſible to enumerate all that in my opinion excludes the French from the character of a well-bred people.—Swift, who ſeems to have been gratified by the contemplation of phyſical impurity, might have done the ſubject juſtice; but I confeſs I am not diſpleaſed to feel that, after my long and frequent reſidences in France, I am ſtill unqualified. So little are theſe people ſuſceptible of delicacy, propriety, and decency, that they do not even uſe the words in the ſenſe we do, nor have they any otherſ expreſſive of the ſame meaning.

But if they be deficient in the external forms of politeneſs, they are infinitely more ſo in that politeneſs which may be called mental. The ſimple and unerring rule of never preferring one's ſelf, is to them more difficult of comprehenſion than the moſt difficult problem in Euclid: in ſmall things as well as great, their own intereſt, their own gratification, is their leading principle; and the cold flexibility which enables them to clothe this ſelfiſh ſyſtem in "fair forms," is what they call politeneſs.

My ideas on this ſubject are not recent, but they occurred to me with additional force on the peruſal of Mad. de B____'s letter. The behaviour of ſome of the pooreſt and leaſt informed claſs of our countrymen forms a ſtriking contraſt with that of the people who arreſted her, and even her own friends: the unaffected attention of the one, and the brutality and neglect of the other, are, perhaps, more juſt examples of Engliſh and French manners than you may have hitherto imagined. I do not, however, pretend to ſay that the latter are all groſs and brutal, but I am myſelf convinced that, generally ſpeaking, they are an unfeeling people.

I beg you to remember, that when I ſpeak of the diſpoſitions and character of the French, my opinions are the reſult of general obſervation, and are applicable to all ranks; but when my remarks are on habits and manners, they deſcribe only thoſe claſſes which are properly called the nation. The higher nobleſſe, and thoſe attached to courts, ſo nearly reſemble each other in all countries, that they are neceſſarily excepted in theſe delineations, which are intended to mark the diſtinguiſhing features of a people at large: for, aſſuredly, when the French aſſert, and their neighbours repeat, that they are a polite nation, it is not meant that thoſe who have important offices or dignified appellations are polite: they found their claims on their ſuperiority as a people, and it is in this light I conſider them. My examples are chiefly drawn, not from the very inferior, nor from the moſt eminent ranks; neither from the retailer of a ſhop, nor the claimant of a tabouret,* or les grandes ou petites entrees; but from the gentry, thoſe of eaſy fortunes, merchants, &c.—in fact, from people of that degree which it would be fair to cite as what may be called genteel ſociety in England.

* The tabouret was a ſtool allowed to the Ladies of the Court particularly diſtinguiſhed by rank or favour, when in preſence of the Royal Family.—"Les entreeſ" gave a familiar acceſs to the King and Queen.

This ceſſation of intercourſe with our country diſpirits me, and, as it will probably continue ſome time, I ſhall amuſe myſelf by noting more particularly the little occurrences which may not reach your public prints, but which tend more than great events to mark both the ſpirit of the government and that of the people.—Perhaps you may be ignorant that the prohibition of the Engliſh mails was not the conſequence of a decree of the Convention, but a ſimple order of its commiſſioners; and I have ſome reaſon to think that even they acted at the inſtigation of an individual who harbours a mean and pitiful diſlike to England and itſ inhabitants.—Yours, &c.