Part 6

One of the company, Monsieur Kérvélligan, is a member of the convention, and appeared to me, both on this occasion and since, to be a manly dignified character. I conversed a little with him on indifferent subjects, as he only played occasionally. He is reputed to possess a penetrating mind; and it is certain that he very early discovered the views of Robespierre, and described them faithfully to his friends here. Monsieur Kérvélligan was proscribed, with many other deputies, on the 31st of May, when the Brissotine party was overthrown, and compelled to flee before that of the Mountain. With some of his colleagues, he effected his escape into Normandy, and thence into the wildest part of this neighbourhood, where he took refuge among the peasants, by whom he was known and beloved. These poor people were well aware, that by betraying him they might make their fortunes; but they were too simple and honest to violate the duty of hospitality. He frequently ventured to come into town in disguise, and has often heard himself proclaimed a traitor, and a reward offered to whoever would bring him in, alive or dead, to the municipality. Soon after the execution of Robespierre, he emerged from his retreat, and by a late decree of the convention, is recalled, with others, to his seat in their body; and intends to set out to Paris very soon, to resume his delegation. Monsieur Kérvélligan voted against the murder of his sovereign; and has told his friends here, that in going, on the day of the question being put to the vote, to the hall of the convention, he and many other members were several times stopped, and surrounded by bodies of the lowest class of the people, who clapped pistols to their heads, threatened them, and swore they would sacrifice them on their return, if they did not vote for the death of their sovereign.

During the carnival-week there was a second party, similar to the first, at our house: and, under the auspices of our good hostess, I went also to two others, the last of which, on _Sunday_ evening, was at Monsieur Kérvélligan’s, where the same entertainment was provided, and pursued with the same avidity. Mademoiselle Kérvélligan I have already mentioned as a handsome young woman; and her mother, Madame Kérvélligan, is also very agreeable.

At one of these routs I saw a specimen of genuine democratic manners, which all who aim to become great men in the state affect to imitate. The commissary of prisoners, a man allied to nobility, liberally educated, and once an Abbé, bolted into the room where the company were assembled, humming the _Carmagnole_, with his hat on, which was adorned with a red, a white, and a blue feather, and his hands stuck in his breeches, _not pockets_. In this attitude he stood all the evening, and thrusting himself among the ladies, had the impudence to enter into familiar conversation with the Marchioness de Ploeuc, and other women of rank and delicacy, with all the airs which conscious superiority of power can instil into a reptile. This brutal manner of mingling in society, and addressing women, has become, since the revolution, the _ton_ of republican coxcombs, and during the reign of Robespierre set decorum and the restraints of civilized life at defiance. It is now on the decline, except with those who still court the applause of the dregs of that faction. A courtier of Versailles at his toilet, surrounded by paints, patches, and perfumery, was, in the eye of reason, a ridiculous and contemptible animal; but the most effeminate essenced _marquis_, that ever consulted a looking-glass, was surely preferable to this indecent blockhead.

In frequenting these little circles, I see many victims of the tyranny of the government, and hear such anecdotes of it related, as make me shudder. The marchioness has been stripped of two estates, and the best house in this town, which is converted into a prison. Two ladies, who reside in our house, are but just liberated from a close confinement, under which, with many more of their sex, they languished for fourteen months. During their imprisonment, in return for the sequestration of their property, they were allowed _twenty sols_ a day, out of which they were compelled to pay two for _house-rent_. Monsieur Brimaudiere, brother of the lady of this house, was _capitaine des gens d’armes_ of this district, a post of trust and power. When the party of Brissot fell, he was seized, sent to Paris, and imprisoned for fifteen months in the _Conciergerie_. During the whole of his confinement he was kept in the same room, and saw, during that period, 167 persons go out of it to the guillotine, every day expecting himself to be added to the number. His fate was close at hand when Robespierre was overturned, and soon after the death of the tyrant he was liberated, and sent back hither, to resume his former situation, which he now fills. He describes almost the whole of this assembly of victims to have been so conscious of their innocence, and so reconciled to their lot, from the daily exits of their friends, that nothing but resignation, indifference, or levity, prevailed throughout the prison, death having ceased, from its familiarity, to terrify. It was customary to warn, on the preceding evening, those prisoners who were to be put on their trial the next day; and by a regulation made among themselves, the party to be tried gave a supper on that night to the whole room; and, if he was spared for the present, and remanded back, he was in return treated with a dinner at their joint expence. “Our dinner entertainments,” said my informer, “were few indeed; but Oh! the suppers without end which we partook of!”

All my days, however, have not been passed in going to routs, and listening to details of misery. I have paid a visit to two more members of the convention, and have been _at church_. On the afternoon of the 19th instant, the representatives Guesno and Guermeur arrived here in great state, in a coach which had once belonged to their king, drawn by eight horses, and escorted by forty hussars. “_Voila l’égalité!_” cried aloud some (I was told) who saw them enter in this pomp. “And,” said my informer, “as if conscious of their power, and the importance of their mission, they neither bowed to the crowd which was assembled to gaze at them, nor spread any lure to engage popular attention, like their brethren who have heretofore been among us.” They are both natives of Bretagne, and of good, though not of noble, families. In conjunction, with several more deputies, furnished with great powers, they have been delegated by the convention to treat with the inhabitants of La Vendee. Among other avowed objects of their coming hither, is an enquiry into the complaints which have been at different times made by the prisoners of war. Accordingly, two days after, Admiral Bligh, attended by Captain Kittoe and myself, went to the tavern (which once was the _town-palace_ of the _bishop_ of the diocese) wherein they lodged. We saw them both, and the Admiral, through Captain Kittoe and me as his interpreters, made some representations to them, which, if not quite satisfactorily answered, were at least candidly listened to by Monsieur Guermeur, who was extremely civil; but his colleague Guesno was less friendly, and more elevated, keeping his seat, with his hat on, while we remained in the room, and frequently interrupting our statements. He is said to avow publickly a hatred of our nation, which in this short conference could not be restrained. On the following day I was deputed by the Admiral to wait upon them again, with a letter from him, entreating them to give orders that the other officers of the Alexander (who are still closely locked up in the _château_ of Brest, suffering misery and imposition) might be liberated, and permitted to join us here. Upon reaching their hotel, I found a crowd of suitors attending at the foot of the stair-case; but the landlady, on seeing me, assured me I should not wait for an audience, as an order had been given by Guermeur to admit at once all English officers who might wish to see him. I profited immediately by this flattering distinction, and marched through two rows of impatient Frenchmen, who were expecting what I had obtained. I found him alone, and was as politely received as on the preceding day. He read my dispatches with deliberation, and in answer desired me to present his compliments to the Admiral, and to assure him, that he would write to his colleagues at Brest, and beg them to comply with the request.

Listen now to a relation, which will in some degree evince to you the infamous height to which imposition, on the ignorance of the people, is practised in this country.----On the 23d of this month an express arrived, in the middle of the night, from the other representatives on mission in this department to those here, which caused great speculation, affording to one part of the inhabitants of the place as much joy and exultation, as to the other it was productive of grief and dismay:----“_Peace concluded with Charette_.”----An event, at once so momentous and desirable, could not pass without celebration. A drummer was sent in the morning into the town, who proclaimed at the corner of every street the important intelligence; and announced, that on the same evening a ball, in honour of it, would be given by the representatives of the people, to which all good republicans were invited to repair. This was a bitter trial to the poor royalists, particularly to those who had been lately liberated from imprisonment. Many of them, rather than go to such a commemoration, chose to submit to the imputation of incivism, and to provoke afresh the arm of power; while others, more compliant, went with aching hearts, to wear the mask of joy on an event, which, if true, quashed their final hope. They all, however, consoled themselves in believing that the information was unfounded. “How,” said they, “can we credit any thing which our enemies tell us? How many victories have not we been commanded to celebrate, which were gained only in the fertile inventions of those who fabricated them, and issued the orders! Did they not assure us, that the English fleet was defeated, and almost utterly destroyed, in the engagement of the first of June? Did not--------, and--------, and--------, who were just arrived from Brest, aver with solemnity and oaths, that they had seen, and actually been on board, _three English ships of the line_, in the port of Brest, which were taken in that action? &c. &c.”

On these specimens of modern Gallic effrontery I leave you to your own reflections; and shall only observe, that in a very few days the intelligence about Charette was contradicted, when the royalists, as far as they dared, returned the laugh upon their opponents.

Be this as it may, the ball was well, or at least fully, attended, by generals, colonels, captains, serjeants, corporals, privates, and drummers, with their wives and children; to whom may be added all the butchers, barbers, bakers, tallow-chandlers, servant-maids, and fishwomen in and about Quimper, “whose dress, manners, and vociferation, joined to the offensive smell which proceeded from their persons, drove me,” said the lady from whom I borrow this account, “out of the room in about half an hour.” The maid of our house (who is not of an ignoble stock, although reduced to service) said, she did not deign to dance, as none but _sans-culotte_ partners offered themselves. Water was the only refreshment which was served up at this civic feast, and all the fiddlers of the town were put in a state of requisition to play at it. My curiosity was strong; but it was impossible for an Englishman to be present on such an occasion.

I shall now describe a scene to you, which filled me with very different emotions from this recital.----On leaving the representative, after presenting to him the Admiral’s letter, as I was going out of the door, I heard the sound of an organ, proceeding from the cathedral, which was very near the house: I went in, and found mass celebrating in the presence of a congregation consisting chiefly of poor people from the country, with a few of the higher ranks, many more of whom, I was assured, would have been there, could they have believed themselves secure from reproach; but the return of religious worship was yet too young for them to incur the risk----they were all kneeling at their devotions, with great appearance of fervency, while a fine grey-headed respectably looking priest, habited in his pontificals, officiated at the altar. I walked the whole length of the church, through rows of people on their knees, which formerly might have been deemed disrespect in a heretic; but I now met with nothing but courtesy and regard, all seeming conscious that the basis of their persuasion and mine was the same, however we might differ in external forms of adoration. Here I had leisure to contemplate the scene of desolation which this venerable temple presented. At least half the windows of fine old painted glass, “richly dight,” were broken; all the monuments torn down; and the bones of the dead exposed to view, and commingled with the ruins of their tombs, the names and armorial devices being utterly defaced, and the coffins taken away and converted into bullets. When the service was finished, I went within the railing which incloses the altar, to look at a large picture, representing the Ascension, the figures of which are pierced through in more than twenty places, by sabres and bayonets. An old man, who was kneeling near the rails, observing my attention fixed on the painting, told me, that in the vacant side-compartments once stood two other pictures taken from holy writ; “But,” said he, “they were so cut and hacked, that _we_ were under a necessity of taking them away.” A gentleman, who had joined me in the church, informed me, that the altar and confessionals which I saw had been brought hither from another church; for that those belonging to this had been either burnt, or broken into a thousand pieces: nay, that the figures, with which the altar had been adorned, were carefully separated from it, and triumphantly guillotined in the middle of the great square of the town.

Cold and republican must have been the eye which could survey such scenes of barbarous devastation unmoved, and the heart which could listen to such descriptions of sacrilegious delirium without a sigh!

“-------- Oh! but man! proud man! Dress’d in a little brief authority; ------------ like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven, As makes the angels weep.” Shakespeare.

Upon enquiring, I learned that the church had been open for public worship about three weeks, in consequence of a proclamation issued at l’Orient, on the 13th of January, by the representatives Guesno and Guermeur, in which liberty of worship is granted to all men in their own way, on “proper terms,” but not as a national worship; the republic disavowing a national religion, although tolerating and permitting the free exercise of all, provided the priests who officiate have taken the oaths of allegiance to the state. To this last stipulation the thinness of the weekly congregations is in part attributable, the rigid catholics holding in detestation the priests who have taken the paths.-------- Adieu.

LETTER VIII.

Quimper, 4th of April 1795.

I should not amuse you with a disquisition on the etymology of the name of Quimper, or a research into the date of its foundation, were I capable of furnishing such an entertainment; but I will tell you all I know of its present state, and of the country contiguous to it.

It is unquestionably a town of considerable antiquity, and when it formed a part of the possessions of the dukes of Bretagne (ere those were annexed to the crown of France, by the marriage of Charles VIII. with Anne of Brittany) sometimes sided, in the wars between the English and the French, with one party, and sometimes with the other. A massy stone wall surrounding the old town, the cathedral, and some other buildings, are believed to be the works of our countrymen.

The town stands in a bottom, encompassed by high hills, and the largest part of it is built on a neck of land formed by the confluence of two rivers. I have often thought it like Plymouth; but it is not so large, although even now extremely populous. Its streets are narrow, winding, and dirty; and their former names have been changed into others of a revolutionary sound, such as the street of Voltaire, the street of Mably, the square of Liberty, &c. &c. The greatest part of the houses are very ancient and mean; but a few are large and stately, with walls whose thickness seems intended for endless duration. On entering them, I was surprized to see the unfinished state of most of the apartments, which are uncieled, the bare beams and cross-pieces presenting themselves to view. I shall be within the bounds of truth when I assert, that of 1500 houses, which are perhaps in the town, not fifty have each a cieled room, and not ten, or even five, have the whole apartments of the ground and first floor cieled. The bottoms of the rooms are as unsightly as the tops, from the gaping chasms of the planks which compose them; and the dirty state in which the floors and furniture are kept, is disgusting. Nevertheless in some respects the interior of these houses deserves regard. The vast mirrors which adorn their best apartments, and the beautiful plate glass of the windows, far exceed what are seen in English houses, except those of the first fashion. The French engravings I prefer to all others, and a few very good ones are still left here, though defaced, by having their dedications to princes, _maréchaux de France_, and other great men, very clumsily erased. Of plate too it is said they formerly displayed sumptuous side-boards; but these have disappeared, having been either buried or committed to the crucible. Indeed it was become necessary to adopt one or other of these measures; for soon after the 10th of August 1792, the democratic lust of destruction rose to such a height, as to order all family distinctions derived from ancestry, and all heraldic emblems whatever, to be erased, not only from the outsides of the houses, but from every article of furniture. Even the armorial bearings engraved on the most trifling toys, a snuff-box, a ring, or a seal, were obliterated; and the post-office took care to detain all letters, of which the seals were impressed with those shocking emblems of aristocracy. I now eat with spoons whence the family marks are carefully expunged, the observation of which led to my enquiries.

A man who has seen only this skirting of France would demonstrate the highest degree of presumption, were he to pretend to draw a parallel between it and England; but, to confine myself to what I have seen here, I may venture to affirm, that civilization, luxury, a general diffusion of the comforts of life, or by whatever other name you please to call it, is more advanced in Cornwall and Wales than it was in this province, even before the revolution.

Formerly there were two public walks on the banks of the river; but the stately elms which formed one of them have been lately cut down, to the great dissatisfaction of the inhabitants, in order to be sent to Brest for keels of ships.

The cathedral is a large edifice, of majestic appearance, but strikingly irregular in its exterior. Over its principal door is written “_Le peuple Français reconnait l’Etre Suprème_.” All the other churches and monasteries, which are numerous, have been converted (as the property of the state) into hospitals, stables, magazines, or manufactories of salt-petre. The church applied to this last use is well adapted to the purpose. I went with an English gentleman to see it, and no objection was made by the people whom we found there at work to our inspecting every part of their process, which is very simple.----Against one of the side walls are piled large heaps of wood-ashes, and near them two rows of casks with perforated bottoms, which are filled with the ashes thoroughly wetted. The water, after passing through the ashes, is received into tubs, and constitutes a vegetable alkaline lixivium. The opposite side of the church is filled with the ruins of old houses, and heaps of earth dug out of stables, slaughter-houses, and cemeteries, which last are full of the wrecks of humanity. These, after being macerated and mixed with the liquor drained through the wood ashes, are evaporated over a slow fire, until exhausted of the superfluous watery particles; after which the remaining part is put into large shallow coolers, on the sides of which the salt-petre shoots into crystals.

The workmen employed here are only twelve in number, and the quantity of salt-petre made is about fifty pounds a day, which, according to their account, costs only four livres and a half a pound; but this must not be depended upon, for they did not know the quantity of wood consumed. The wages of these people are inconceivably low, only 50 sols a day, and a ration of bread. Until lately they were paid only 35 sols, the addition having been made in consequence of the increasing dearness of the necessaries of life: even now 50 sols will scarcely buy a pound of the worst veal brought to market. They complained of its insufficiency, and told us, that manufacturers in England were paid as much for two hours work; “but, nevertheless, it is for the republic.” Either from this conjecture of the liberality of our country, or from some other cause, they treated us with particular respect, and answered all our questions with the most ready civility: not an interested civility, for they neither received, nor gave us room to suppose that they expected, any gratuity.

I quitted the place with strange sensations. The process which I had witnessed was whimsically shocking. When I saw amidst the earth the bones tossed about, “mine ached at the remembrance.” This earth, said I to myself, once, perhaps, belonged to men whom these houses sheltered, and against whose descendants in La Vendée it may, when fabricated into the _breath of destruction_, volly forth, in the shape of bullets, the coffins which once enclosed their forefathers. There is certainly no discovery which entitles to higher admiration the inventive genius of man, than that of artillery, in all its wonderful combinations; but, at the same time, it must be confessed, that no stronger proof of our miserable degeneracy and infatuation can be produced, than our application of it.