Читать книгу A Residence in France During the Years 1792, 1793, 1794 and 1795, Complete - Charlotte Biggs - Страница 55

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Every attempt to obtain paſſports has been fruitleſs, and, with that ſort of diſcontented reſignation which is the effect of neceſſity, I now look upon myſelf as fixed here till the peace. I left Mr. and Mrs. D____ yeſterday morning, the diſappointment operating upon them in full force. The former takes longer walks than uſual, breaks out in philippicſ againſt tyrannies of all kinds, and ſwears ten times a day that the French are the moſt noiſy people upon earth—the latter is vexed, and, for that reaſon, fancies ſhe is ill, and calculates, with great ingenuity, all the hazard and inconvenience we may be liable to by remaining here. I hope, on my return, to find them more reconciled.

At Villars de Bretonne, on my road hither, ſome people told me, with great gaiety, that the Engliſh had made a deſcent on the coaſt of Picardy. Such a report (for I did not ſuppoſe it poſſible) during the laſt war would have made me tremble, but I heard this without alarm, having, in no inſtance, ſeen the people take that kind of intereſt in public events which formerly made a reſidence in France unpleaſant to an individual of an hoſtile nation. It is not that they are become more liberal, or better informed—no change of this kind has been diſcovered even by the warmeſt advocates of the revolution; but they are more indifferent, and thoſe who are not decidedly the enemies of the preſent government, for the moſt part concern themſelves as little about the events of the war, as though it were carried on in the South Sea.

I fear I ſhould riſk an imputation on my veracity, were I to deſcribe the extreme ignorance and inattention of the French with reſpect to public men and meaſures. They draw no concluſions from the paſt, form no conjectures for the future, and, after exclaiming "Il ne peut pas durer comme cela," they, with a reſignation which is certainly neither piouſ nor philoſophic, leave the reſt to the agency of Providence.—Even thoſe who are more informed ſo bewilder themſelves in the politics of Greece and Rome, that they do not perceive how little theſe are applicable to their own country. Indeed, it ſhould ſeem that no modern age or people is worthy the knowledge of a Frenchman.—I have often remarked, in the courſe of our correſpondence, how little they are acquainted with what regards England or the Engliſh; and ſcarcely a day paſſes that I have not occaſion to make the ſame obſervation.

My conductor hither, who is a friend of Mad. de T____, and eſteemed "bien inſtruit," was much ſurprized when I told him that the population and ſize of London exceeded that of Pariſ—that we had good fruit, and better vegetables than were to be found in many parts of France. I ſaw that he ſuſpected my veracity, and there is always on theſe occaſions ſuch a decided and impenetrable incredulity in a Frenchman as precludes all hopes of convincing him. He liſtens with a ſort of ſelf-ſufficient complacence which tells you he does not conſider your aſſertions as any thing more than the exaggerations of national vanity, but that hiſ politeneſs does not allow him to contradict you. I know nothing more diſguſtingly impertinent than his ignorance, which intrenches itſelf behind the forms of civility, and, affecting to decline controverſy, aſſumes the merit of forbearance and moderation: yet this muſt have been often obſerved by every one who has lived much in French ſociety: for the firſt emotion of a Frenchman, on hearing any thing which tends to place another country on an equality with France, is doubt—this doubt iſ inſtantly reinforced by vanity—and, in a few ſeconds, he is perfectly ſatiſfied that the thing is impoſſible.

One muſt be captious indeed to object to this, did it ariſe from that patriotic feeling ſo common in the Engliſh; but here it is all vanity, downright vanity: a Frenchman muſt have his country and his miſtreſſ admired, though he does not often care much for either one or the other. I have been in various parts of France in the moſt critical periods of the revolution—I have converſed with people of all parties and of all rankſ—and I aſſert, that I have never yet met but with one man who had a grain of real patriotiſm. If the Athenian law were adopted which doomed all to death who ſhould be indifferent to the public welfare in a time of danger, I fear there would be a woeful depopulation here, even among the loudeſt champions of democracy.

It is not thirty miles from Amiens to Peronne, yet a journey of thirty miles is not now to be undertaken inconſiderately; the horſes are ſo much worked, and ſo ill fed, that few perform ſuch a diſtance without reſt and management. If you wiſh to take others, and continue your route, you cannot, or if you wait while your own horſes are refreſhed, as a reward for your humanity you get ſtarved yourſelf. Bread being very ſcarce, no family can get more than ſufficient for its own conſumption, and thoſe who travel without firſt ſupplying themſelves, do it at the riſk of finding none on the road.

Peronne is chiefly remarkable in hiſtory for never having been taken, and for a tower where Louis XI. was confined for a ſhort time, after being outwitted in a manner ſomewhat ſurprizing for a Monarch who piqued himſelf on his talents for intrigue, by Charles le Temeraire, Duke of Burgundy. It modern reputation, ariſes from its election of the Abbe Maury for its repreſentative, and for entertaining political principleſ every way analogous to ſuch a choice.

I found the Marquiſe much altered in her perſon, and her health much impaired, by the frequent alarms and continual apprehenſions ſhe had been ſubject to at Paris. Fortunately ſhe has no imputation againſt her but her rank and fortune, for ſhe is utterly guiltleſs of all political opinions; ſo that I hope ſhe will be ſuffered to knit ſtockings, tend her birds and dogs, and read romances in peace.—Yours, &c. &c.