WW 1^ y RECOLLECTIONS M I R A B E A U. NEW PUBLICATIONS. French Edition of DUMONT'S MIRABEAU, &c. 9s. I. SOUVENIRS SUR MIRABEAU. By ETIENNE DUMONT, of Geneva. " It abounds with the most important and interest- ing details." — Times. " The most amusing and Instructive volume that has lately been published. It mu5l undoubtedly take its place amongst the most valuable records."— Quarterly Review. II. LIFE OF FRANCIS THE FIRST. By JAMES BACON, Esq. A New Edition, with Additions. 2 vols. 8vo. " A most full and animated account of Francis, a most chivalrous Monarch "—Literary Gazette. III. GEOGRAPHICAL ANNUAL, 1832. Containing 100 Steel Engravings. Price, plain 18s.; finely coloured, 21s. A new is- sue of 1,000 copies has just taken place. " A beautiful and most useful little volume— a per- fect picture of elegance. "—Literary Gazette. IV. THE ROMANCE OF HISTORY. The New Edition, uniform with the Wa- verley Novels, is now ready, of the Four Series, namely, ENGLAND, FRANCE, ITALY, and SPAIN, At only 6s. per volume neatly bound. To be had in complete sets or separate Series. " The plan of this work is novel and of a very in- teresting description."— Times V. LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS. By the Hev. HENRY STEBBING, Second Edition, with numerous additions, including the Life of the celebrated Ugo Foscolo. 3 vols. « A valuable present not merely to English but to European Utcratiu-e.»— Times. NOVELS BY DISTINGUISHED WRITERS. I. THE DEMOCRAT. In 3 vols. " This tale is of great interest."— Literary Gazette. II. CHANTILLY. Dedicated to the Princess Louise d'Orlcans. In 3 vols. " Chantillv reminds us touchingly of one of the most admirable fictions in the language, ' The Bride of Lammermuir.' "— Atheuueum. " It has much of that dramatic power of incident which is the great charm of The Canterbury Tales." » —Literary Gazette. THE ROBBER. By the Author of • Chartley the Fatalist.' 3 vols. " Tliis is a romance of great power "—Literary Guardian. THE JEW. 3 vols. " This is unquestionably a very extraordinary pro- duction."— At henseum. " A work of high and rare merit."— Court Journal, V. CAMERON. 3 vols. " Its dialogues and scenes very strongly remind us of ' SelfControul,' and of ' Marriage,' and ' Inheri- tance'. There are pictures of life in Scotland scarcely to be surpassed. — Spectator. VI. THE AFFIANCED ONE. By the Author of ' Gertrude.' 3 vols. « It abounds with lively sketches of society and sparkling anecdote."— Belle Assembl^e. VII. THE FALSE STEP. 3 vols. « A tale of deep interest, inculcating a useful les- son."— Metropolitan. " X very interesting story ."-Literary Gazette. RECOLLECTIONS MIRABEAU, THE TWO FIRST LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLIES OF FRANCE. BY ETIENNE DUMONT, OF GENEVA. SECOND EDITION CAREFULLY REVISED. UJ9^N DON: EDWARD BULL, HOLLES STREET. LONDON: O. SCHULZE, 13, POLAND STREET. CONTENTS. Preface by the English Editor. ... . xiii Preface by the Genevese Editor. . . . . • xix CHAPTER I. Motives which induced the author to write these Recollec- tions — The revolution of Geneva in 1789, determines his departure for Paris with M. Duroverai — Desire of taking advantage of M. Necker's return to office to do something in favour of the Genevese exiles — Origin of the author's ac- quaintance with Mirabeau — Journey to Paris with Sir Samuel Romilly in 1788 — Mirabeau's residence in England in 1784 — His activity and industrj' as a writer — His reputa- tion at Paris in 1/88 — First interview with Mirabeau — CONTEN J S. Fagt Some traits of his private character — His work on the Prussian monarchy — Major Mauvillon the principal author — Quarrel between M. de Calonne and M. Necker about the d^Jicit — M. Necker's answer — Mirabeau fonns the project of replying — Why he abandons it— Visit to Bic^tre and the Salpetri^re — Romilly writes an energetic description of them — Mirabeau translates it — Discussion between Mi- rabeau, de Bourges and Claviere — Dupont de Nemours — Anecdotes — Champfort — A saying of Mirabeau on Champ- fort — General feeling in polite circles at Paris — Some traits of the pi-ivate character of Sir Samuel Romilly — Note given to the author by Mirabeau. ... 1 CHAPTER IL Journey from London to Paris in 1789 — Elections of deputies at the hailliages — Regulations for the election, made whilst breakfasting at Montreuil-sur-Mer — Success of these re- gulations — Interview with M. Necker — Residence at Cla- viere's at Surene — Committees at Claviere's and Brissot's — The Duke de la Rochefoucauld — Confusion of ideas at this period — Saying of Lauraguais — Right of representa- tion claimed by Palissot — Assembly of the sections — Diffi- culty of proceeding — Assembly of electors — M. Duval- d'Esprdmenil — M. de Lauraguais, bourgeois of Paris — Opening of the states-general — Aspect of the tiers-etat — Reflection upon the verification of the powers. . .24 CONTENTS. Ill CHAPTER III. Page How Mirabeau was situated in the assembly, on the opening- of the states-general — His bitterness against the assembly — Conversations on this subject — The author engages him to be more moderate — Intimacy between Mirabeau and Duroverai — Little committees — Duroverai's plan for bringing Necker and Mirabeau together — Adopted by Mallouet — Difficulty of an interview — It takes place — Mirabeau's saying on Necker — Embassy to Constantinople — Ottoman Encyclopaedia — Mirabeau's first triumph at the tribune — Deb\it of Robespierre — Effect of his speech — Saynng of M. Reybaz concerning him — Sieyes, his charac- ter and habits — The Bishop of Chartres — Anecdotes of this prelate ......... 38 CHAPTER IV. Inaction of the tiers during the disputes of the orders — Its effect upon the public — Motion of Sieyes upon the title of the assembly — Title of national assembly proposed — Question debated between the author, Dm-overai and Mira- beau — The latter determines to oppose this title — Speech written by the author in the hall of the assembly — Mira- beau adopts it — Its effect upon the assembly — Author's anxiety— Sieyes' motion carried — Its effect — Duroverai forms the plan of a royal session — Mallouet undertakes to IV CONTENTS. communicate it to Necker — This plan concealed from Mi- rabeau — Is spoiled by the influence of the court party- Royal session — Its effect upon the assembly and the public — Reflections — Circumstance which determined Necker to absent himself — Mirabeau's anger against Duroverai — What he thinks of Necker — His opinion upon the session. 59 CHAPTER V. Agitation of the people after the royal session — Cause of this agitation — Saying of Sieyes on the Breton club — Attitude of the Court — Arrival of troops — Mirabeau's speech — Ad- dress to the King. — Mirabeau undertakes to write it — Confides this task to the author — Anecdote — (General un- easiness — Supposed projects of the court — Mirabeau fears being arrested — Character of the King on his arrival — Death of the Marquis de Mirabeau — Work upon the events of the revolution. . . . . . .81 CHAPTER Vl. Courtier de Provence— Its origin — Partnership between the author, Duroverai, and Mirabeau — Success of this journal — Negligence and dishonesty of the bookseller — Annoy- ances — Embarrassment of Mirabeau — His connexion with Madame le Jay — Tlie journal has a new editor — It begins to fall — New arrangements — Judgments upon the Courrier de Provence — What ultimately became of it . * 97 CONTENTS. CHAPTER VII. Complete union of the orders — Aspect of the assembly — Address to the people — Mirabeau requests the author to write it — Cause of its want of success — Weakness of the assembly regarding the tumults — Fear and mistrust of the government — Cause of this feeling — General opinion in favour of the revolution — Causes which led to a change of opinion — Work by Burke — Declaration of the rights of man — Discussion — Opinion of the author and of Mirabeau on this subject — Sitting of the 4th of August — Reflection upon it — Anger of Sieyes — His opinion — That of Mirabeau upon the assembly — Eflfect of this sitting upon the people . 106 CHAPTER VIII. Discussion upon the veto — Marquis de Caseaux and his speech — Difficulties of Mirabeau in reading it — Anecdote — Public opinion — Improper mode of proceeding in the assembly — Impatience of showing oflF — Love of making motions — Some traits of French "character — Compared with the English — Regulations by Romilly — Rejected by the assembly — Opinion of Brissot, Sieyes, &c. upon England — Saying of Duroverai — Mirabeau applies it to Mounier . 122 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER IX. Page Camille Desmoulins — La Clos — His connexion with Mirabeau — Was Mirabeau acting in concert with the Duke of Or- leans ? — Facts for and against — Translation from Milton against royalty — Duroverai prevents its publication — Saying of Mirabeau upon the events of Paris — His conduct on the 4th and 5th of October-;- Aspect of the interior of the assembly —Anecdotes — Desertion of several deputies ......... 135 CHAPTER X. Discussion upon finances — Mirabeau' s reasons for supporting M. Necker — Effect of his speech — Singular compliment paid to Mirabeau by Mole — Address to the nation — Mirabeau confides to the author the task of writing it — Want of suc- cess of this address — Mirabeau proposes a vote of thanks to Lafayette and Bailly — What determined him — Project for bringing Mirabeau into office — Motion to prevent it — Civic inscription — Proposal of Sieyes — Mirabeau brings it forward — Law concerning bankrupts — Martial law . .151 CONTENTS. Vll CHAPTER XI. "" • Page Connexion of Mirabeau with the court — Confidence on this subject — Plan of a counter-revolution by Mirabeau — King's departure — Basis of the plan — Appeal to the nation — Decrees of the assembly annulled — Immediate convocation of another assembly — Surprize of the author — His resolu- tion — Conversation and discussion of the plan — Mirabeau promises to renounce it — Another mode is adopted — -The Marquis de Favras — His tried — Uneasiness of Mirabeau — Discussion on church property — PeUn author of Mira- beau's speeches on this subject — His connexion with Mira- beau — Anecdotes . . . . . . .165 CHAPTER XII. Mirabeau's habits changed — His house — Luxury — Expenses — He refuses to take his father's title — Receives 20,000 francs a month — His connexion with Prince Louis d'Arem- berg — Quarrel between Mirabeau, Claviere and Durove- rai — The author reconciles them — Gradual election — Idea of the author — Mirabeau's motion — Barnave opposes it — Mirabeau abandons it — Reflections . . . .184 CHAPTER XIII. Author's departure — Motives — Barrere — Baniave — Petion — Target — Mallouet — Volney — Robespierre — Morellet — Vlll CONTENTS. P«({« Necker— Champfort — Return to Paris with Achille Ducha- telet — His character — Anecdotes — Conversation with Mi- rabeau — His connexion with the Queen — He directs the court party — Report of diplomatic committee — Author's shai'e in it — Anecdote — Increased expense in Mirabeau's style of living — Remark of the author — The Abbe La- mourette — Mirabeau president of the assembly- — Opinion thereon — Mirabeau's ill health — His forebodings — Emo- tion on taking leave of the author — He prophecies on the fate of France — His death. . . . . .196 CHAPTER XIV. Private life of Mirabeau — Anecdote on his marriage — Cor- respondence with Madame Mounier — How he wrote it- Portrait of Mirabeau — Considered as an author — Distinctive characteristic of his writings — As a political author — His good quahties — Defects — Compared with Fox, with Bar- nave — His private habits — As member of the assembly — Venahty — Saying on this subject — Despair at not enjoying a spotless reputation — His vanity — Saying of the author — Pubhc character of Mirabeau — His object — Designs — Cause of their failure — Characteristic trait of his genius — Political sagacity — Powers of prophecy — Knowledge of mankind . . , . . . . . .218 CHAPTER XV. Detached anecdotes — Mirabeau's habit of giving nicknames — How he designated Sieyes, d'Espreraenil, Lafayette, CONTENTS. IX Pane Necker, Cla\'iere — His opinion of Washington — Saying concerning the assembly — Annoyance at praise bestowed upon mediocrity — Saying of the author on this subject — Viscount de Mirabeau — Laughable answer — Personal courage of Mirabeau — Adored by his domestics — Visit to the Bastille — His friendship for Cabanis — Cause of his death — Last moments — Legacy to the assembly — Activity — Hopes of becoming minister . , . . .240 CHAPTER XVL Author's return to Paris — Flight of the King to Varennes — Aspect of the assembly — Effect of the King's flight upon the people — Shade of Mirabeau — Project of a paper — Its object — Why renounced — Paine at Paris — Confidence of Duchatelet — Placard in favour of the repubhc — Condorcet becomes a republican — Clavi^re, Brissot, Petion, &c. dis- cuss the question — Origin of this opinion — Condorcet's motives and influence — Lameth, Bamave, &c. join the King — The author returns to London with Paine — Opi- nion on this writer — Details given by d' Andre on the as- sembly — His complaints — Reflections — Supposed dialogue between d' Andre and his servant, recited by Sieyes. . .257 CHAPTER XVIL General reflections on the revolution — Its causes — Nine causes of the faults of the assembly — Heterogeneous com- CONTEXTS. Page position — Bad mode of carrying on proceedings. Immu- tability of constitutional decrees — Fear of a counter-revo- lution — Emigration — Affiliation and institution of the Ja- cobins — Wrong measures of the court party, &c. — Causes of the fall of the constitution — Unity of the assembly — Ab- solute independence — Ineligibility of the members of the ^rst assembly to the second — Immutability of the constitutional laws — Opinion on the national assembly — Author regrets his want of memory and curiosity. .... 276 CHAPTER XVIII. Amval of Petion in London — Object of his journey — How accomphshed — D' Andre — His character — His talents — Persecuted by Brissot — Some particulars concerning Bris- sot's character — ^Talleyrand — Anecdotes — Object in com- ing to London — Reception by the King and Queen — Author returns to Paris — Reasons — Accompanies Talley- rand and Duroverai. . . . . . .291 CHAPTER XIX. Arrival at Paris — Conversation with TallexTand — Anecdote on the consecration of the clergy — Aspect of the legisla- tive assembly — Divided into three Parties — The King governed by the Feuillans — Girondists — Their object — M. de Lessart — Impeachment by Brissot — Author re- proaches Brissot — Reflections — De Graves — Anecdotes — Author secretlv consulted on the choice of a wai" minister CONTENTS. XI — Speech to bring the Girondists into power, made by Gensonn^ — Petion's speeches — Vergniaud — Guadet — Gen- sonne — Bnzot — Roederer — Condorcet. . . . . 303 CHAPTER XX. The author taken to Roland's — Character of the latter — Madame Roland — Memoirs — Servan — Louvet — Lanthe- nas — Pache — Claviere is appointed minister — His life and character — His ambition — Activit}' — Madame Claviere — Her illness — Cause of recovery — Legislative assembly and Girondists. ... . . ... 324 CHAPTER XXI. Declaration of war against Austria — Reticences in the me- moirs of Dumouriez — Austrian committee — Brissot desi- rous of war — Duchatelet refutes the objection of the de- sertion of old officers — Dinners at Claviere's and Dumou- riez's — Gaiety of Louvet and Dumouriez — The latter com- municates to the author his report on the war — Condor- cet's weakness — Appointment of an embassy to England — TaUe}Tand — Chauvelin — Hesitation — Dumouriez puts an end to them — Garat — Embassy badly received in Lon- don — Pitt and Chauvelin — The embassy at Ranelagh — The public shun them — The Duke of Orleans. . .338 CHAPTER XX XL Object of the embassy — Maintenance of peace — Work of Ga- rat — loth of August — Talleyrand goes to Paris — Presses Xll CONTENTS. Pago the author to accompany him — Refusal — Motives— The Genevese government request him to proceed to Paris — Army at the gates of Geneva — Montesquieu — Travels with an Irish quaker who is come to France to make prose- lytes — Arrival at Paris — The author determines Brissot and Clavifere to support the Genevese treaty — Gasc sent by the republic — Dinner at Clavi^re's — Lebrun's ode- Secret confided to the author by Gensonn^ — Intrigues by Grenus — The author proceeds to Geneva. . . .360 Appendix. . , . . .... 379 PREFACE ENGLISH EDITOR. There is no public character whose actions have been more the subject of misrepresentation, and over whom calumny has had greater sway, than the Count de Mirabeau. He is known in this country rather as one of the most profligate promoters of the French revolution, than as the most extraordinary man of his age, in those pre- eminent endowments of mind in which he far surpassed all the great luminaries of that brilliant period ; and it has been reserved for b XIV PREFACE Duniont, a man of high character and unsullied principles, to rescue his name from the blind obloquy by which it has been so long and so unjustly obscured. With all his vices, and they were by no means few, Mirabeau had many redeeming qualities. The former have been exaggerated with all the virulence of party hatred, while the latter have been concealed with equal malignity. This is unjust. A man, whatever be his errors, should go to posterity with the benefit of his good as well as the odium of his evil qualities. In these Recollections, Dumont, the friend of Mirabeau, has concealed nothing, nor has he *' set down aught in malice." He has not shrunk from the task of exposing the blemishes of a master-mind, at the same time that he exhibits the splendour of its superior endowments. He has candidly stated Mirabeau's good and bad qualities without disguise, and while it will ap- pear that there is much to despise, it will be found that upon the whole, there is perhaps more to admire. Justice has been rendered to an erring but illustrious man. With all his vices, Mirabeau was an ardent patriot. The good of his country was mingled even BY THE ENGLISH EDITOR. XV with his dying aspirations, and the love of France ceased in his heart, but with his last breath. His great powers of intellect and transcendant eloquence maintained his popularity through all the fluctuating changes attendant upon one of the greatest political convulsions, ever recorded in history ; and by the ascendency of his energetic mind, he awed Robespierre and the jacobin anarchists into harmless insignificance. Had his life been spared, there is no doubt that the French revolution would have taken another direction, and the horrible excesses of the reign of terror never have blackened the page of French political regeneration. His death was the knell of the French monarchy; — the glory of a long line of Kings was buried in the grave of Mira- beau. Dumont's Recollections contain the most va- luable materials for history. Facts hitherto un- known, the secret causes of many great and sur- prizing events, which have hitherto eluded the acutest research of the historian, are laid open. However we may regret that the work remains unfinished, we cannot but be thankful for the abundance of information supplied by these Re- collections, every page of which is of momen- b2 XVI PREFACE tons interest. Our regret arises from the very perfection of the work even in its unfinished state ; and had Dumont found leisure to fill up the periods connecting its different parts, and to give his promised account of the revolutions of Geneva, subsequent to that of 1789, and in which he was himself an actor, this volume would form the completest compendium of the French revolution ever given to the public. In reflecting upon the events contained in this book, the philosophic mind cannot but be forci- bly struck with the disproportion between causes and effects in political convulsions, when once the edifice of the state has begun to totter upon its foundations. On these occasions, the most insignificant circumstance, like the chance spark which, unperceived may slowly spread its latent flame and ultimately destroy the noblest edifice, often leads to astounding results, even to the ruin of states and the overthrow of empires. Such was the case in France ; — and such will be the case in all revolutions proceeding from the same causes. It is a lamentable fact that govern- ments founded upon the barbarous remains of feudality — and most governments of modern ages are in this predicament — naturally divide the BY THE ENGLISH EDITOR. XVH state into two classes, whose hostility to each other is instinctive. A few privileged indivi- duals hold the reins of power and for their own interest and advantage, oppress the great mass of the people. When at length, the latter dis- cover and claim their just rights, those rights should be fairly and frankly admitted, otherwise the authority by which they are withheld must ultimately, even in the absence of tumult and bloodshed, be crushed by the inert preponde- rance alone of the discontented mass of the population. Had this self-evident principle been admitted by the blind and bigotted aristocracy of France, no convulsions would have taken place, nor the freedom of the French people have been cemented with blood. The inveterate and unjust prejudices of the nobles, and more particularly of the members of the Royal Family — which even five and twenty years of misfortune and exile could not eradicate — led immediately to those first excesses which shewed the people their strength and betrayed the weakness of the government. It is singular that neither the fruits of experience, nor the pangs of personal sufi'ering, can rectify the warpings of the human mind ; and in the feelings XVUl PREFACE BY THE ENGLISH EDITOR. which ill 1789, induced the Count d'Artois to convert the conciliatory object of the royal ses- sion into the immediate cause of the first revolu- tionary insurrections, may be traced the same spirit of bigotry, which in 1830, led him, as Charles X, to issue the ordinances by which he lost his crown. Numerous other examples might be adduced which would form a collection of valuable les- sons for Kings and statesmen. But alas ! man profits not by the experience of others — often- times not by his own ; and it is not until we have obstinately and wickedly brought on the evil, that we choose, amid the pangs of tardy, and useless repentance, to open our eyes to truth ! In offering Dumont's ideas to the public in an English garb, it only remains for the English Editor to add that his sole aim has been to give the author's meaning with clearness and preci- sion. If he has failed, it is not from want of zeal and attention. G. H. C. London, 29th March, 1832. PREFACE GENEVESE EDITOR. It is not my intention to write a biographical notice of M. Etienne Dumont. Two illu- strious authors, M. de CandoUe and M. de Sis- mondi, have already paid their tribute of admi- ration to the memory of their departed friend and fellow-countryman. I cannot do better than refer the reader to the Bibliotheque umverselle* and the Revue encyclopedique^j in which, with all the warmth of friendship, they have deposited * Bibliotheque universelle, November 1^29. t Revue encyclop^dique, vol. 44, p. 258. XX PREFACE the expression of their regret at the loss which our country, science, and literature have just sustained. To render, however, the present work more intelligible, it is necessary that I should trace, in as rapid a sketch as possible, the principal circumstances of the author's life, especially those preceding the period to which the work alludes. When I have explained his connexion with politics and political men, long before 1789, and the rank which he has since held in the lite- rary world, it will be more easy to understand how he, a stranger to France and to the great acts of the French revolution, should have been able to relate facts hitherto unknown, and have acquired a right of passing judgment upon men and events. M. Etienne Duraont, of Geneva, spent the eaYly part of his life in his native country, where his talents as a preacher gained him well de- served renown. In 1783, he left Geneva, in consequence of its political troubles, and went to St. Petersburgh to join some members of his family who had settled there. During a resi- dence of eighteen months in this city, he was equally successful, and obtained the high con- sideration due to his merit and noble character. BY THE GENEVESE EDITOR. XXI He left St. Petersburgh in 1785, and went to London to reside with Lord Shelburne, then a minister of state, who confided to him the general education of his sons. Lord Shelburne, after- wards Marquis of Lansdowne, soon discovered the great talents of M. Dumont, whom he made his friend. It was in the house of this minister that he became acquainted with some of the most illustrious men of the country ; and amongst others, with Sheridan, Fox, Lord Holland, Sir Samuel Romilly and Mr. Brougham, then a barrister, now Lord High Chancellor of Eng- land. His connexion with these distinguished in- dividuals, founded upon friendship, similarity of opinions and literary occupations, and the pursuit of great objects of public utility, gave them full opportunities of appreciating his high worth. He was generally known to be a man of profound knowledge, correct judgment, irreprochable character, and lively and brilliant wit. Each did him justice during his life, and they who have survived him continue to honor his memory. He formed a very particular intimacy with Sir Samuel Romilly, a man equally distinguished XXll PREFACE by his private virtues and his great talents as a lawyer and a political orator. The friendship which united these two men, increased daily, nor did its activity cease till the death of Sir Samuel Romilly. M. Dumont was inconsola- ble for this loss, and never mentioned his de- parted friend without tears. In 1788, they undertook a journey to Paris together, and it was under Sir Samuel Romilly's auspices that M. Dumont first became acquainted with Mirabeau. During a sojourn of two months in the French capital, he saw the latter every day, and a certain affinity of talents and intel- lect led to an ultimate connexion between two men so opposed to each other in habits and cha- racter. It was on his return from Paris, that Dumont began his acquaintance with the cele- brated Bentham, which had so complete an in- fluence over his future opinions and writings, and fixed, as it were, his career as a writer on le- gislation. Dumont penetrated with a lively admiration for the genius of this extraordinary man, and profoundly struck with the truth of his theory and the consequences to which it so" natu- rally led, applied all his talents to make the BY THE GENEVESE EDITOR. XXlll writings of the English publicist known, and de- voted the greater part of his life in rendering available to the world at large, the exhaustless store of knowledge which the ever active genius of Mr. Bentham was always increasing.* In 1789, M. Dumont suspended his labors in England to proceed to Paris with M, Duroverai ex-attorney-general of the republic of Geneva. The object of this journey was to obtain, through the return of M. Necker to office, and the events then passing in France, an unrestricted restora- tion of Genevese liberty, by cancelling the treaty of guarantee between France and Switzerland, which prevented the republic from enacting new laws without the consent of the parties to this treaty. The necessary steps to which this mis- sion gave rise, brought M. Dumont into connexion with most of the leading men in the constituant * The following works are the result of this labour: lo Trea- tises on legislation, published in 1822, in 3 vols. 8vo. now in their third edition ; 2° Theory of punishments and rewards, 2 vols, 8vo. also in its third edition ; 3o Tactics of legislative assemblies, two editions, 1815 and 182 2 ; 4o Judicial evidence, published in 1823, and a second edition in 1830 ; 5o Judicial organization and codification, 1 vol. published in 1828. I do not here mention the numerous editions published in foreign countries. XXIV PREFACE assembly and made him an interested spectator, sometimes a participator in the events of the French revolution. The importance of the changes about to be operated, and the immense interest which this period inspired, determined M. Dumont to follow closely the course of events. Like all the other generous and elevated minds in Europe, he offered up his vows for the realization of the great hopes to which the first proceedings of the national assembly had given rise, and was desi- rous of assisting at occurrences which he consi- dered the forerunners of a new political era. His former acquaintance with Mirabeau was renewed immediately after his return to Paris, and it con- tributed to prolong his residence in France, during which he co-operated in many of the works of that celebrated man;* but being after- wards attacked in pamphlets and other periodi- cals as one of Mirabeau's writers, he felt much hurt at his name being mentioned publicly, and determined to return to England. The reputa- tion of being a subaltern writer was, as he him- * As a justification of what I here advance and which is stated by M. Dumont himself, I refer the reader to the facsimile of Mirabeau's correspondence with him, at the end of the volume. BY THE GENEVESE EDITOR. XXV self states, by no means flattering, and that of an influential connexion with a man whose cha- racter was not untainted, alarmed his delicacy. From that period he sedulously employed his time in preparing Mr. Bentham's manuscripts for pu- blication. In 1814, the restoration of Geneva to inde- pendence, induced M. Dumont to return to that city, which, subsequently, he never quitted for any length of time. Until 1829, he de- voted his talents to his country, to which he rendered very eminent services. It would be a work of supererrogation to recall his claims to the gratitude of his fellow-citizens. All know and acknowledge how much they are in- debted to his patriotism and devotion ; and to the general mass of readers such details would present but little interest. In the autumn of 1829, he undertook a tour of pleasure to the north of Italy in company with one of his friends, M. Bellamy Aubert;* and his family were im- * I cannot suffer this opportunity to pass without pubhcly ex- pressing the gratitude entertained by M. Dumont's family towards M. Bellamy Aubert, whose active friendship and affectionate atten- tions soothed the last moments of his friend. This consolatory circumstance, in so painful an event, can alone in some degree XXVlll T'HF.FACK buted to the happiness of mankind by the pro- pagation of useful ideas ; and he never sought, I will not say to raise his fame at the expense of that which his celebrated friend had so justly earned, but even to claim the share of renown to which he was really entitled. His own thoughts and ideas merged in those of Mr, Bentham, and he gave the whole to the pub- lic under the name of that great publicist, with- out ever troubling his head about the portion of honor and esteem which he should derive from them. But if such unequal participation suited M. Dumont's modesty, it is not less in- cumbent upon me to endeavour to place him in the rank which is his due. God forbid, however, that I should desire here to raise a controversy, by claiming for M. Dumont all or the principal part of the merit belonging to the works which appeared under the name of Mr. Bentham. It would be against evidence and would, moreover, be a violation of the respect 1 owe to M. Du- mont's memory ; for the latter did not cease, to the end of his life, expressing his enthusiastic admiration of the English publicist.* My design * This is what he wrote a few days before his death : " What I most admire is, the manner in which Mr. Bentham has laid BY THE GENEVESE EDITOR. XXIX is solely to prove, that if M. Dumont consented to work in the second rank, — if he preferred, in some sort, to abandon his own stock, and culti- vate the ideas of another, it was the effect of choice, not necessity ; and nothing could answer my purpose better, than the publication of a book written solely by himself, which shows in detail, and by precise facts, the high consi- deration he enjoyed from the celebrated men down his principle, the developement he has given to it, and the rigorous logic of his inductions from it. The first book of the Treatises on legislation, is an art of reasoning upon this prin- ciple, of distinguishing it from the false notions which usurp its place, of analyzing evil, and of showing the strength of the legislator in the four sanctions, natural, moral, political, and religious. The whole is new, at least with regard to method and arrangement, and they who have attacked the principle generally, have taken good care not to make a special attack upon the detailed exposition of the system. Egotism, and materialism ! How absurd ! No- thing but vile declamation and insipid mummery ! Look into the catalogue of pleasures, for the rank which the author assigns to those of benevolence, and see how he finds in them the germ of all social virtues ! His admirable Treatise upon the indirect means of preventing crime, contains among others, three chapters sufficient to pulverise all those miserable objections. One is on the cultiva- tion of benevolence, another on the proper use of the motive of ho- nor, and the third on the importance of religion when meuntain- ed in a proper direction ; that is to say, of that reUgion which oon- C XXX PREFACE. with whom he lived, and proves the depth and correctness of his judgment, the elegance of his mind, his feelings of high honour, and gives, be- sides, a specimen of his own powers of composi- tion. It will also be seen, in this work, how often men of eminence had recourse to his counsels, his information and his pen ; whence it may be inferred, that if he afterwards con- sented to become second to Mr. Bentham, it duces to the benefit of society. I am convinced that Fenelon himself, would have put his name to every word of this doctrine. Consider the nature and number of Mr. Bentham's works ; see what a wide range he has taken in legislation ; and is it not acknowledged, that no man has more the character of originahty, independence, love of public good, disinterestedness, and noble courage in braving the dangers and persecutions, which have more than once threatened his old age ? His moral life is as beautiful as his intellectual. Mr. Bentham passes in England, whether with justice or not I am imable to determine, for the chief, I mean the spiritual chief, of the radical party. His name, therefore, is not in good repute with those in power, or those who see greater dangers than advantages in a reform, especially a radicsd reform. I do not pretend to give an opinion, either for or against ; but it must be understood, that he has never enjoyed the favour either of government or of the high aristocracy ; and this must guide, even in other countries, those who desire not to commit themselves ; for Mr. Bentham's ensign leads neither to riches nor to power. BY THE GENEVESE EDITOR. XXXI was not from the speculation of an inferior mind, incapable of proceeding alone, and who would consider such an association as a real bonne-fortune, but rather from that true modesty, which made him, provided the good were done, care little to whom it was attributed. M. Dumont by no means considered these Recollections as a finished work. He spoke of them as a sketch which he intended to go over again and complete. He intended them as notes upon things and persons ; as materials for a historical work of a higher order than simple memoirs ; — but he alone could have made it com- plete, and I should deem it a breach of duty on my part, had I endeavoured to supply the deficiencies, or omissions which may be remarked in it, or attempted to finish it even according to the plan he had himself laid down when talking on the subject. Whatever regret we may feel that the sudden death of the author should have prevented the completion of this work, it will nevertheless remain as one of the most interesting sources of information and research for the history of the period to which it refers. M. Dumont's intimacy with the prmcipal per- XXXll PREFACE sonages of that epoch, and particularly with Mirabeau, afforded him the knowledge of many facts unknown to most of those who have written upon the same subject ; and besides observations on the general events of the revolution, these Recollections contain a number of anecdotes never published, and statements concerning persons and things, more or less important no doubt, but which are all of great interest. What appears to me more particularly to add to the merit of this work, and distinguish it from every production of the same kind, is that M. Dumont, a stranger to France, would never con- sent, from a sentiment of propriety which does him much credit — very rare at that period — to take an active part in the events which passed before his eyes, nor exercise any public functions. He has, therefore, nothing to conceal, nor any mo- tive for altering facts in order to present his own conduct in a more favorable light. His love of freedom and his great talents made him the con- fidant of great projects, and a contributor to important works, but never in any other capacity than as the friend or adviser of the real authors. The instant this association of intellect and talents attracted the public attention, and he per- BY THE GENEVESE EDITOR. XXXlll ceived that the hopes he had founded on the patriotism of those with whom he was connected, faded before a sad reality, he hastened to abandon the place he occupied, and withdrew. I have only another word to say ; it is re- specting the opinions formed by M. Dumont, upon the proceedings of the constituent assem- bly. Perhaps his judgments may be deemed severe ; but if the period, when he wrote his Recollections, be taken into consideration, that is to say 1799, when not many years had elapsed since the disorders into which anarchy had plunged France — and it be recollected that when he went to Paris, he had already resided several years in England, it may seem less surprising that he should sometimes express strong disappro- bation. Looking at the proceedings of the national assembly, over which a thoughtless and enthusiastic heat too often presided, he naturally assumed as his point of comparison, the prudent slowness and regular form of the English par- liament. This contrast must have struck him painfully, and he might have been the more induced to blame what he saw, because the labors of the constituent assembly did not pro- duce the results anticipated by every friend of XXIV PREFACE freedom. He would judge differently now, when subsequent events have placed this great epoch in its proper light. The action of time which effaces or softens prejudices, and the succession of events which can alone enable us to look from an eminence, permit us now to form a correct judgment of the mission of the national assembly. It was called upon, at the very outset, to announce to Europe the destruction of the ancient social order, and prepare for the establishment of a new one in France. They who then so strongly blamed it for having founded nothing, were not in a position fairly to appreciate its works. Their wishes, founded, it is true, upon praise- worthy motives, made them unjust ; they demanded of the assembly more than it could perform ; and assigned it another task than that which Pro- vidence had fixed. A generous impatience to see a realization of the great destinies of man, made them anticipate the periods prescribed by the order of progress, and they bitterly vituperated the constituent assembly for not equalling the vast hopes which they had conceived. This as- sembly, however, which contained most of the great and generous minds then distinguished in France, accomplished with grandeur, boldness. BY THE GENEVESE EDITOR. XXXV and impartiality, the noblest and most exten- sive task ever confided to any body of men. At the present time, when we can better appre- ciate the difficulties and dangers it had to en- counter, and the immensity of the services it rendered to the cause of humanity, by destroying the obstacles which stopped the progress of civilization, we exact less, and are more grateful ; — in short we are become just. I might have softened expressions of severe criticism, and struck out certain passages which may displease some, but it would have been a betrayal of confidence. This work was a deposit placed in my hands, and I restore it to the public such as it was intrusted to me, unaltered and untouched. J. L. Duval, Member of the Representative Council of Geneva. RECOLLECTIONS MIRABEAU. CHAPTER I. I HAVE just read the ' Annals of the French Revolution,' by Bertrand de Molleville ; a work which has recalled to my recollection a variety of facts whose secret causes are known to me, and has also reminded me of my connexion with many of the leading characters of that period. A lapse of ten years has effaced a number of circum- stances from my memory, and were I to wait much longer, I should retain only a very vague idea of the many remarkable events which oc- B 2 RECOLLF.CTIONS currcd under my own observation. My friends have repeatedly urged me to commit to paper the details with which I have been in the habit of en- tertaining them in private conversation. I have hitherto refused, from an invincible repugnance to speak of myself. Having been rather a spectator than an actor in these events, I can conscientiously declare, that in the litile participation I had in them, my intentions were always pure, however defective may have been my judgment. But not having attached consequence to any thing I ever said or did, I have kept no journal, and have thus suffered many interesting matters to escape me. I did not, at the time, perceive their importance, and it is only by looking back at them through a lapse of years, that I am able to appreciate their value. In the work of Bertrand de Molleville, I have read various details which had already escaped my memory, and I feel the necessity of putting my own fugitive recollections into a per- manent form. I cannot better employ my leisure hours at Bath than by devoting them to this task, which, if it prove tedious, as I fear it will, I have only to suspend, and throw into the fire what I have written. OF MIUABEAU. 6 My journey to Paris was occasioned by the revolution at Geneva in 1789. I went thither with Duroverai, ex-attorney-general of Geneva, in con- sequence of M. Necker's return to office, and the events then passing in France. We had two ob- jects in view : one to render Geneva wholly free, by annulling the treaty which prevented her from making laws without the approbation of the powers which had become guarantees of that treaty ; the other, to complete that which the Genevese revo- lution had only commenced ; for this revolution having been effected with great precipitancy, the popular party had obtained only a portion of the rights of which they had been deprived in 1782. The councils had yielded some of their usurped powers, but had managed to retain several. The Genevese residents in London were by no means satisfied with this arrangement, and the clause which they reprobated the most, was the one which provided that the exiles, though recalled, should not resume their offices and honors. Meet- ings had been held on this subject ; and as I had not been banished, but was only a voluntary exile, it was considered that I could plead the cause of the exiles with much more propriety than them- selves. My notions of liberty had been strength- D 2 4 RECOLLECTIONS ened by my residence in England, and by the liberal spirit of the writings published, at that period, in France. I was one of the most active at our Genevese meetings ; and I undertook to write a pamphlet containing all the observations we had made upon the new Genevese code. My work was well received ; and it was proposed to address it to our fellow citizens. Duroverai, who had just arrived from Ireland, persuaded me that the work would prove more effective if published at Paris ; and that it was necessary to prevent a ratification of the treaty by the powers, otherwise the imperfect state of things then existing, might be rendered permanent and conclusive. The affairs of Geneva are totally foreign to the present work. But it was necessary that I should state my object in going to Paris, and show that, by a concatenation of events, all con- nected with that object, I found myself mixed up with the French revolution. Before I enter upon my subject, 1 must premise that my principal re- collections relate to Mirabeau, and I am therefore bound to begin by stating the origin of my con- nexion with him. In 1788, 1 spent the months of August and Sep- tember, at Paris, with my friend Mr. Romilly, of OF MIRABEAU. O London. Romilly is descended from a French family, who took refuge in England after the revo- cation of the edict of Nantes; an event of which he never spoke without blessing the memory of Louis XIV, to whom he thus owed the obligation of being an Englishman. He had embraced the pro- fession of the law, and practised at the Chancery bar, where success is attended with much less eclat than in the Court of King's Bench. During Mirabeau's visit to London in 1784, he had become very intimate with Romilly. He was then engaged in his work on the order of Cincinna- tus, and had in his portfolio plans and sketches of several other works, upon which he took good care to consult every person capable of affording him information. He was then poor, and obliged to live by his writings. He wrote his Considera- tions on the Escaut, from a letter by M. Chauvet, which gave him the first idea of the work. Hav- ing become acquainted with a geographer, whose name I forget, he also meditated writing a universal geography. Had any one offered him the elements of Chinese grammar, he would, no doubt, have attempted a treatise on the Chinese language. He studied a subject whilst he was writing upon it, and he only required an assistant 6 RECOLLECTIONS who furnished matter. He could contrive to get notes and additions from twenty different hands; and had he been offered a good price, I am confi- dent he would have undertaken to write even an encyclopaedia. His activity was prodigious. If he laboured little himself, he made others labour much. He had the art of finding out men of talent, and of successfully flattering those who could be of use to him. He worked upon them with insinua- tions of friendship, and ideas of public benefit.* His interesting and animated conversation, was like a hone which he used to sharpen his tools. Nothing was lost to him. He collected with care anecdotes, conversations, and thoughts — appropri- ated to his own benefit, the fruits of the reading and study of his friends — knew how to use the information thus acquired, so as to appear always to have possessed it— and when he had begun a work in earnest, it was seen to make a rapid and daily progress. In London he fell in with D...., who was writing a History of the Revolutions of Geneva, * When, at a later period, Mirabeau wanted my services, he spoke to me in praise of my friends, and talked about Geneva. This was a species of Ranz des Vetches — it softened and subjugated me. Note by Dumont. OF M1KA13EAL'. 7 the first volume of which he had already pub- lished. D.... wished to be an author without its being known, and seemed to blame himself for writing this work. He pressed Mirabeau to take his manuscripts and compose a History of Geneva. In less than a week, Mirabeau showed him an extract he had made from the volume already pub- lished. It was done in a masterly style; was energetic, rapid and interesting. 1 know not what made D . . . . change his mind, but, on a sud- den, he withdrew his manuscripts from Mirabeau. The consequence was a coolness, and something worse, between them. These two men could never have worked in conjunction. Mirabeau, however, declared that he only wanted the second place, and would willingly yield to D . . . . the honour of the undertaking ; but the truth is, he thought that his reputation would absorb that of his com- panion, and that D . . . . would be considered, at most, but as a mason who had brought the stones and mortar for the edifice, of which Mirabeau was the architect. When we arrived at Paris in 1788, the charac- ter of the Count de Mirabeau was in the lowest possible state of degradation. He had been em- ployed at Berlin, by M. de Calonne, was con- 8 RECOLLECTIONS nected with all the enemies of Necker, against whom he had several times exercised his pen, and .was considered a dangerous enemy and a slippery friend. His law-suits with his family — his elope- ments— hisimprisonments, and his immorality,could not be overlooked, even in a city so lax as Paris ; and his name was pronounced with detestation at the houses of some of our most intimate friends. Romilly, almost ashamed of his former friendship for Mirabeau, determined not to renew acquaint- ance with him. But Mirabeau was not a man of etiquette ; and having learnt our address from Target, at whose house we had dined, he deter- mined to call upon us. The noise of a carriage at the door, drove Romilly to his room, desiring me, should it be a visitor on a call of ceremony, to say that he was out. Mirabeau was announced, and I did not send word to Romilly, because I thought he wished to avoid seeing the count ; and as his room was only separated by a thin partition from the one we were in, I concluded that he would be able to distinguish the voice of our visitor, and make his appearance if he pleased. Mirabeau began the conversation by talking of our mutual friends in London. He then spoke of Geneva, for he well knew that to a Genevese nothin^r was OF MIUABEAU. 9 more agreeable than to talk of his country. He said many flattering things of a city which, by producing so many distinguished men, had contri- buted to the general mass, so large a share of genius and learning ; and he concluded by affirm- ing, that he should never be happy until he could liberate that city from the fetters imposed upon it by the revolution of 1782. Two hours seemed but a moment ; and Mirabeau was, in my estima- tion, the most interesting object in Paris. The visit ended by my promising to dine with him the same day, and he was to return and fetch me in his carriage. ** With whom have you been talking so long?" said Romilly, on leaving his room, to which this long visit had confined him. — " Did you not re- cognise his voice ?" I enquired. — '* No." — " Yet you well know the individual, and 1 even think you must have heard a panegyric on yourself, which would have made a superb funeral oration." — "What! was it Mirabeau?" — "It was; and may I be a fool all my life, if I allow the prejudices of our friends to prevent me from enjoying his company. I belong neither to Calonne's party, nor to Necker's ; but to his, whose conversation animates and delights me. As a commencement. 10 UECOLLECTIONS I am going to dine with him to-day." Mirabeau soon returned, took us both with him, and in a very short time overcame our prejudices. We visited him often ; and taking advantage of the fine weather, made many excursions into the country. We dined with him in the Bois de Boulogne, at St. Cloud, and at Vincennes ; at which latter place, he showed us the dungeon in which he had been confined three years. I never knew a man who, when he chose, could make himself so agreeable as Mirabeau. He was a delightful companion in every sense of the word; obliging, attentive, full of spirits, and possessed of great powers of mind and imagination. It was impossible to maintain reserve with him ; you were forced into familiarity, obliged to forego etiquette and the ordinary forms of society, and call him simply by his name. Although fond of his title of count, and, at the bottom of his heart, attaching great importance to noble birth, he had too much good sense not to know when he could avail himself of it with propriety ; he therefore made a merit of its voluntary abdication. The forms of good breeding, which have been so pro- perly compared to the cotton and other soft mate- rials placed between china vases, to prevent their OF -MIIIABKA'J. 11 being broken by collision, keep men at a cer- tain distance from each other and permit not the contact of hearts. Mirabeau rejected them. His first care was to remove such obstacles, and intimate intercourse with him was attended with a sort of agreeable asperity, a pleasant crudity of expression, more apparent than real ; for under the disguise of roughness, sometimes even of rude- ness, was to be found all the reality of politeness and flattery. After the stiff and ceremonious conversations of formal good breeding, there was a fascinating novelty in his, never rendered insipid by forms in common use. His residence at Berlin had supplied him with a stock of curious anecdotes ; for his scandalous letters were not then published. He was, at this period, publishing his book on the Prussian monarchy. This produc- tion consisted of a work by Major Mauvillon, and extracts from different memoirs procured at great expense. No one could, for a moment, suppose that, during a residence of only eight months at Berlin, Mirabeau could himself have written eight volumes, in which he had introduced every pos- sible information relative to the government of Prussia. But he had the merit of employing the talents of an officer scarcely known to the govern- 12 KECOLF.ECTIONS ment he served, and the Prussian ministers must have been much surprised at finding that a man who had made so short a sojourn in their country, could singly undertake so arduous a task, and suc- ceed in supplying them with more materials than could be found in the united offices of their several departments. This work is an illustration, by facts, of Adam Smith's principles of political economy ; and it clearly proves that Prussia has always been a sufferer, whenever she has departed from those principles. This was also the period of the famous quarrel between M. de Calonne and M.Necker, about the deficit. The former had good reasons for endea- vouring, by a direct charge, to throw upon other shoulders the weight of his own responsibility. He had accused M. Necker of having imposed upon the nation by a statement, that on leaving office, instead of a deficiency, there was an over- plus of ten millions of livres. M. de Calonne's article, teeming with arithmetical calculations, and specious arguments, had produced a certain effect upon the public mind. M. Necker, who had just resumed office, had announced his reply as forthcoming. Mirabeau was preparing to re- fute the latter, even before it had appeared and OF MIRABEAU. 13 he could possibly know its contents. M. Necker's enemies were in the habit of meeting at the house of Panchaud, the banker, a man of talent, and well versed in finance, but who, after a disgraceful bankruptcy, was lost in character more than he was ruined in fortune. On the pub- lication of M. Necker's work, the committee met daily, and Mirabeau always attended to collect observations, and inveigh against the minister. He anticipated the most triumphant success; and talked confidently of exposing the charlatan, rip- ping Jwn open, and laying him at Calonne's feet, convicted of falsehood and incapacity. But this fierce ardour was soon exhausted by its own vio- lence ; and he said no more on the subject him- self, nor was he pleased when any other person mentioned it in his presence. I often asked him why this refutation was delayed ; by what no- velty of kindly feelings he spared the great char- latan, who was enjoying an unmerited reputation; and why Panchaud's committee deferred this great act of justice? Mirabeau, to get rid of these at- tacks, which, after his foolish boasting, he could not well parry, at length informed me that M. Necker's aid was necessary for the formation of the states-general, that his popularity was useful, and 14 RECOLLECTIONS that the question of the deficit was absorbed by the more important one of the double representa- tion of the tiers-dtat. From this fact J infer that M. Necker's answer had proved victorious and that his enemies could not succeed in injuring his cha- racter. We went with Mercier, the author of the ** Tableau de Paris," and Mallet-Dupan, to see those horrid dens, the Salp6tri^re and Bic^tre. I never saw any thing more hideous ; and these two establishments at the gates of the metropolis strongly display the careless frivolity of the French. The hospital contained the germ of every loathsome disease ; the prison was the school of every crime. Romilly, much moved, wrote, in a letter to a friend, an energetic de- scription of these two receptacles of wretched- ness. I mentioned this description to Mirabeau, who was anxious to see it. After reading it, to translate and publish it was the work of a single day ; and he completed a small volume by adding a translation of an anonymous paper on the administration of the criminal law of England. Tlie work was announced as trans- lated from the English, by the Count de Mira- 01- -M Hi A BEAU. 15 beau ; but the public, accustomed to disguises of this nature, imputed to him the authorship of both. The success of this book was great, and its profits covered his expenses for a month. Mira- beau enjoyed a high reputation as a writer. His work on the Bank of St. Charles, his " Denun- ciation of Stock-jobbing," his ** Considerations on the Order of Cincinnatus," and his " Lettres de Cachet," were his titles to fame. But if all who had contributed to these works, had each claimed his share, nothing would have remained as Mirabeau's own, but a certain art of arrange- ment, some bold expressions and biting epigrams and numerous bursts of manly eloquence, cer- tainly not the growth of the French Academy. He obtained from Claviere and Panchaud the materials for his writings on finance. Claviere supplied him with the subject matter of his Letter to the King of Prussia. De Bourges was the author of his address to the Batavians, and I have often been present at the disputes between them, to which this circumstance gave rise. Mirabeau did not deny the debt ; but de Bourges seeing the success of the work, was enraged at having been sacrificed to the fame of another. Mirabeau stood so high with the public, that the partners IG RECOLLECTIONS of his labours could not succeed in destroying a reputation which they had themselves established for him. 1 have often compared Mirabeau to a general making conquests through his lieutenants whom he afterwards subjects to the very authority they have founded for him. Mirabeau had cer- tainly a right to consider himself the parent of all these productions, because he presided at their birth, and without his indefatigable activity they would never have seen the light. Clavi^re, as much annoyed as any man could be at having served as a pedestal to Mirabeau's fame, had formed a connexion with Brissot de Warville, with whom he wrote in conjunction. Mirabeau called Brissot a literary jockey, and spoke of him with contempt, but entertained a high opinion of Clavi^re, with whom he was desirous of a renewal of intimacy. There had been no direct rupture between them, but much bitter feeling. Clavi^re called Mirabeau a jack- daw that ought to be stripped of his borrowed plumes ; but this jackdaw, even when deprived of his borrowed plumes, was still armed with a powerful spur, and could soar above all the rest of the literary tribe. Mirabeau introduced us to Dupont de Nemours OF MIUABEAU. 17 and Champfort. Dupont, author of the "Citizen's Ephemerides," and the zealous friend of Turgot, had the reputation of an honest man and a clever economist ; but he rendered himself a little ridi- culous by the affectation of importance with which he complained of having to correspond with four kings. We found him one morning oc- cupied in writing a work on katheVy in which he showed that the government had never been con- sistent in its regulations on this matter. " This work," said he, " will be more entertaining than a novel ;" and, as a specimen, he read to us seven or eight heavy and tedious chapters ; but he re- warded us for this ennui by giving us many anec- dotes of the assembly of notables, of which he had been secretary. He mentioned, among other things, a very successful bon-mot. Tithes were the subject of discussion. " Tithes," said the Archbishop of Aix, in a whining tone, " that volu7itary offering of the devout faithful .... — •* Tithes," interrupted the Duke de la Rochefou- cauld, in his quiet and modest way, which ren- dered the trait more piquant, " that voluntary offering of the devout faithful, concerning which there are now forty thousand law-suits in the kingdom." 18 RECOLLECTIONS Champfort and Mirabeau kept up a reciprocal exchange of absurd compliments. The former affected independence of character even to singu- larity. Although intimate with several distin- guished persons at court, particularly with M. de Vaudreuil, he always made a point, in their presence, of railing against every thing connected with high office and elevated rank. He aimed at passing for a misanthropist ; but his dislike of humankind arose from pride alone, and was manifested only in epigrams. Whilst others en- deavoured, with a battering ram, to overthrow the Colossus, he attempted to cripple him with shafts of satire. Knowing him afterwards more intimately, I saw a great deal of him ; and, in his passion for revolution, I could discern nothing but a species of wounded vanity, susceptible of no enjoyment save the one resulting from the over- throw of that superiority of talent which had given him umbrage. He hated the institution of mar- riage, because he was himself illegitimate ; and he declaimed against persons of rank and influ- ence, lest he should be suspected of enjoying court patronage. By his own account, he was a severe moralist, and yet he sought his pleasures in the very coarsest and most degrading kind of OF MIRABEAU. 19 voluptuousness. Mirabeau said that a statue ought to be raised to him by the physicians, because he had discovered, in the stews of the Palais Royal, the germ of a disease thought to be extinct — a kind of leprosy or elephantiasis. We had other acquaintances at Paris besides Mirabeau, to whom we scarcely ventured to ac- knowledge our intimacy with the latter. Among these were the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, M. de Malesherbes, M. de Lafayette, Mr. Jefferson the American minister. Mallet du Pan, the Ahh6 Morellet, and many other personages less known. French conversation at this period was much less trivial than it had formerly been. The ap- proaching convocation of the states-general, the importance of passing political events, interesting questions on freedom, and the near approach of a crisis which would affect the future destinies of the nation, were all novel topics at Paris, where they elicited a diversity of opinions, and raised a fer- mentation which, though yet but feebly developed, imparted a strong stimulus to conversation. Every mind plunged into uncertain futurity and specu lated in accordance with its fears or its wishes. In the higher classes, not an individual remained indifferent to what was passing, and even the c 2 20 RECOLLECTIONS mass of the people commenced an agitation of which they scarcely knew the object. The two months we spent at Paris were so well filled, the company we saw so varied, the whole of our time so profitably employed, the objects we beheld so interesting, and the scene so constantly changing, that in this short period, I lived more than during whole years of my subse- quent life. I was chiefly indebted to my fellow- traveller for the reception I met with. His so- ciety was much courted, and being under his auspices, I did not encounter neglect. I was proud of his merit, and when 1 perceived that he was understood and appreciated, my heart warmed with the exultation of friendship at the considera- tion he enjoyed without perceiving it. I cannot at present conceive how, in so short a time, we managed to get through all we performed. Ro- milly, always so quiet and measured in his motions, is yet a man of unceasing activity. He does not lose even minutes. He devotes himself in earnest to whatever he is doing ; and, like the hand of a clock, never stops, although his motions are so equal as to be scarcely perceptible. I can fancy I see him now before me, over- whelmed with business in the most laborious of OF MIRABEAU. 21 professions ; nevertheless he finds leisure to read every important book that appears, recurs often to his classics, sees much company, and yet never appears pressed for time. Economy of time is a virtue I never possessed, and my days often pass away without leaving any trace. Romilly com- municated his activity to me, and taught me an art which unfortunately 1 shall never be able to make available*. On our departure, Mirabeau accompanied us as far as Chan til ly, where we spent a delightful day, making projects to meet again ; and we agreed to keep up a regular correspondence, which, however, we did not even begin. Mira- beau was full of his plan concerning the states- general. He foresaw the difficulties he should have to encounter in his election ; but he already aimed at becoming one of the representatives of the tiers- etat, from a notion that he should thereby raise himself to greater eminence, and that his rank would add fresh eclat to his popular principles. I will here give another instance of his ac- tivity — of his avarice, I may say, in collecting * Sir Samuel Romilly died in London in 1819. — Note by the Genevese Editor. 22 RECOLLECTIONS even the smallest literary materials. He gave me a methodical list of the subjects vv^e had discussed together in conversation, and upon which we had differed. It was headed thus : " List of subjects which Dumont engages, upon the faith of friend- ship, to treat conscientiously, and send toMirabeau very shortly after his return to London. Divers anecdotes on his residence in Russia; biographical sketches of several celebrated Genevese; opinions on national education," &c. There were eighteen items in all, and his recollection of them was a proof of his attention and faithful memory. He was desirous of forming a collection of such materials, that he might use them at his leisure, Mirabeau could adopt every style of conduct and conversation, and though not himself a moral man, he had a very decided taste for the society of those whose rigidity of principle and severity of morals contrasted with the laxity of his own. His mode of inspiring confidence was to con- fess candidly the faults and follies of his youth, express regret at his former errors, and de- clare that he would endeavour to expiate them by a sedulous and useful application of his talents, in future, to the cause of humanity and liberty, without allowing any personal advan- OF MIUABEAU. 23 tage to turn him from his purpose. He had preserved, even in the midst of his excesses, a certain dignity and elevation of mind, combined with energy of character, which distinguished him from those effeminate and worn-out rakes, those walking shadows,with which Paris swarmed; and one was tempted to admit in attenuation of his faults, the particular circumstances of his education, and think that his virtues belonged to himself and that his vices were forced upon him. I never knew a man more jealous of the esteem of those whom he himself esteemed, or one who could be acted upon more easily, if excited by a sentiment of high honour ; but there was nothing uniform and permanent iu his character. His mind proceeded by leaps and starts, and obeyed too many impetuous masters. When burning with pride or jealousy, his pas- sions were terrible ; he was no longer master of himself, and committed the most dangerous imprudences. Having thus explained the origin of my intimacy with Mirabeau, I return to the journey I under- took with M. Duroverai, in 1789, for the purpose of trying if, with M. Necker's return to office, we could not better the condition of the Genevese exiles. 24 RECOLLECTIONS CHAPTER 11. A SOMEWHAT ludicrous circumstance occurred during our journey. I have but an imperfect re- collection of it. All was in bustle for the election of the deputies; and the primary assemblies of the bailliages, composed of shopkeepers and peasants, knew not how to conduct the proceedings on such occasions. We were breakfasting at Montreuil-sur- Mer, if I recollect right, and while chatting with otir host, the latter acquainted us with the trouble and embarrassment attendant upon their meetings. Two or three days had been lost in disputes and confusion, and they had never even heard of such things as a president, a secretary, or voting tick- ets. By way of a joke, we determined to become the legislators of Montreuil, and having called for pen, ink and paper, began to draw up short regu- lations indicating the proper mode of conducting OF MIIIABEAU. 25 such elections. Never did work proceed more gaily than ours. In an hour it was complete, though interrupted every moment by peals of laughter. We then read and explained it to our host, who, delighted at the idea of acquiring con- sequence, entreated that we would give it to him, assuring us that he would make good use of it. We would willingly have delayed our journey for a day to assist at this assembly and behold the incipient dawn of democracy in France, but we could not spare time. Soon after our arrival at Paris, we were not a little surprised at reading in, the public prints, that the assembly at Mon- treuil had finished its election the first of any, and great praises were bestowed upon the order with which the proceedings had been conducted. This circumstance is not so unimportant as it might at first appear. It displays either the care- lessness or the incapacity of a government which could order a thing so unusual at that period as a popular election, without drawing up a regular form of carrying the order into effect, so as to prevent disputes and confusion. On our arrival at Paris, we waited on M. Necker, and in an interview with that minister, perceived that the question of the Genevese gua- 26 RECOLLECTIONS rantee would not be so easily ^settled as we had anticipated. The King would neither consent to annul the edict of 1782, nor risk a refusal of his assent to an arrangement voluntarily entered into by both parties. As the negociation threatened to be long, I spent a few weeks at Clavi^re's country-house at Sur^ne, where I employed my- self in re-writing my * Address to the citizens of Geneva.' 1 was aided in this task by Clavi^re, Duroverai, and Reybaz, the latter being my Aris- tarchus for the stjde ; for this was my apprentice- ship in the art of composition, at least upon poli- tical topics. The work was finished, and sent to Geneva two or three months after. I say nothing of the sensation it produced, for if I derive any pleasure from continuing these memoirs, I shall have a long chapter to write on the subsequent revolutions of Geneva, and the individual part I took in them. Clavi^re's house at Sur^ne was the rendezvous of many of the most distinguished personages of the French revolution. Mirabeau and Brissot were two of the most remarkable. I was aware of every thing that was passing at Paris ; I often went there for a day or two, in order not to neg- lect the acquaintances I had formed during my OF M1RABEA.U. 27 former residence in that city. I visited the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, M. de Lafayette, and M. de Malesherbes. I had since become very intimate with the Bishop of Chartres, at whose house I often met the Abb6 Sieyes. I visited also M. Delessert, Mallet-Dupan, Dr. de La Roche, M. Bidderman and M. Reybaz. But during the months of March and April, I was almost always at Surene, occupied with my work and caring little about the approaching session of the states- general. I remember attending, at Brissot's and Cla- vi^re's, several meetings which they called commit- tees, in which it was proposed to draw up declara- tions of right, and to lay down principles for con- ducting the proceedings of the states-general. At these meetings, I was a mere spectator, and I never quitted one of them without a feeling of mortal disgust at the nonsense talked there. But the scene about to be unfolded was so important that I was always to be found wherever there was any thing to be seen. I heard no interesting speeches it is true; but the feeling on the subject of liberty was unanimous. Cordiality, warmth and energy pervaded every heart, and in the midst of a nation endeavouring to shake off the trammels of feudal 28 RECOLLECTIONS oppression, and which had abandoned its charac- teristic frivolity for a nobler pursuit, I felt in- spired with the most enthusiastic ardour, and yielded to the most flattering anticipations. The French, against whom I had imbibed a pre- judice of contempt, arising from my republican education, and strengthened in England, now seemed to me quite a different people. I began to look upon them as free men, and I partici- pated in all the opinions of the most zealous par- tisans of the tiers-4tat. I did not give much con- sideration to the questions which divided the French nation, but suffered myself to be borne away by my habitual opinions in favour of liberty. I never contemplated more than an imitation of the English form of government, which I consi- dered the most perfect model of political institu- tions. But if 1 had not adequately studied the subject, neither had I the presumption to deliver an opinion upon it. I never spoke at any of these meetings, when they exceeded the ordinary num- ber of a friendly party. No one could be less desirous than I, of making a display before a nu- merous auditory. I considered such a thing improper for a stranger, and my natural timidity strengthened my resolve not to make the attempt. OF MIRABEAU. 29 Duroverai, although more accustomed to public assemblies, and gifted, moreover, with a power of eloquence which would have raised him to the highest rank in these committees, maintained a similar reserve, and had not even the modest am- bition to undertake a part which he might have played with the most distinguished success. I will now state how we were at length dragged into the stream .* The only impression which these speeches and proceedings have left upon my mind is one of a chaos of confused notions. There was no fixed point of public opinion, except against the court, * In one of these meetings at Brissot's, the subject under dis- cussion was the several points to be inserted in the regulation for Paris. Among a great number of propositions, we were gi'eatly surprised at hearing Palissot move for a special article on the right of representation. We Genevese fancied that he meant the right of making representations or rather remonstrances to govern- ment. But he soon undeceived us by stating that this essential right, one of the most precious attributes of hberty, was now in the very act of being violated by government in the most open man- ner, for M. Chenier's tragedy of Charles IX was not allowed to be performed. Being thus made acquainted with the nature of the right of representation, we could not help smiling at our blimder, when some one approaching me, whispered in my ear, " You per- ceive that among the French, every thing ends with the theatre." — Note by Dvmont. 30 RECOLLECTIONS and what was termed the aristocracy. Necker was the divinity of the moment ; and Sieyes, then little known to the people, had, in his writ- ings, supplied with points of argument such as were fond of discussing public questions. Ra- baud de Saint Etienne and Target had acquired a reputation at least equal to that of Sieyes. Such as loved to anticipate a civil war, looked upon Lafayette as a man whom ambition would prompt to become the Washington of France. The individuals I have just enumerated were the leading characters of the day. The Duke de la Rochefoucauld, distinguished by his simplicity, the excellence of his moral character, his independence of the court and his liberal principles, assembled at his house the principal members of the nobility who had declared for the people, the double representa- tion of the tierSf the vote by numbers, the abolition of privileges, &c. Condorcet, Dupont, Lafayette, and the Duke de Liancourt, were the most distinguished at these meetings. The prevailing idea was that of giving a constitution to France. The princes and nobles, who would fain preserve and fortify the old constitution, formed, properly speaking, the aristocratic party. OF MIRABEAU. 31 against whom there was a general outcry. But although the clamour was great, many individuals were almost indifferent, because they were unable to appreciate the consequences of passing events. The body of the nation, even at Paris, saw nothing more in the assembling of the states-general, than a means of diminishing the taxes ; and the credi- tors of the state, so often deprived of their divi- dends by a violation of public faith, considered the states-general as nothing more than a rampart against a government bankruptcy. The ddjicit had filled them with consternation ; they deemed themselves on the brink of ruin, and were anxious to establish the public revenue upon a sure basis. Besides this, each order of the states-general had its parties; the order of the nobility was divided into an aristocratic and a democratic faction ; so was that of the clergy, and so was the tiers- ^tat. It is impossible to describe the confusion of ideas, the licentiousness of imagination, the burlesque notions of popular rights, the hopes, apprehensions and passions of these parties. The Count de Lauraguais said that it was like a world, the day after its creation, when, nations, rendered hostile by clashing interests, were trying to settle their differences and regulate their respective rights 32 RECOLLECTIONS as if nothing had previously existed, and in making arrangements for the future, there was no past to be taken into consideration. I was present at Paris at the meetings of the sections for the appointment of electors. Although there were orders to admit into these assemblies none but the inhabitants of the section in which they were respectively held, such orders were not rigidly enforced ; for in France there was no feeling of jealousy in this respect. After the first few had entered, every decently dressed indivi- dual presenting himself at the door, was allowed to pass. In many sections, there was some diffi- culty in obtaining the attendance of a sufficient number of persons. The citizens of Paris, sur- prised at the novelty of the thing, and rather alarmed at sentinels being placed at the doors of the assemblies, remained at home out of danger, and determined to continue to do so until the first meeting was over. I was at the section of the Filles- Saint -Thomas, a central district inhabited by the most opulent classes. For many days, not more than two hundred indivi- duals were present. The difficulty of giving the first impetus to the machine, was extreme. OK MIR A BEAU. 33 The noise and confusion were beyond any thing I can describe. Each individual was standing, and all spoke at the same time ; nor could the president succeed in obtaining silence for two minutes together. Many other difficulties arose on the manner of taking the votes and count- ing them. I had a store of curious anecdotes relative to this infancy of popular institutions, but by degrees they have been effaced from my memory. They were instances of the eagerness of conceited men to put themselves forward in the hope of being elected. Here was also to be seen party intrigue in its earliest stages — primitive essays in election ma- noeuvres. A list of candidates was rejected, and the elections were to be made from amongst all persons present. This caused the votes to be at first so much divided, that no absolute majority was obtained for any one candidate proposed, and it became necessary to repeat the poll several times. The assembly of electors was as slow and tumultuous in its proceedings as the district assemblies. The states-general met at Versailles several days before the elections for Paris were terminated. It is a remarkable fact that the D 34 RECOLLECTIONS Abb6 Sieyes was the last deputy elected, and the only ecclesiastic appointed to represent the tiers-4tat. Thus, the man who had given the impulsion to the states -general and possessed the greatest influence in their formation, owed to mere chance his being a member of that as- sembly. The elections at Paris were the last in the kingdom. The delay arose, I apprehend, from a discussion as to the mode of conducting them. Some pretended that they should be made by the three orders in conjunctions — others, by the or- ders separately. During this discussion, Duval d'Espresm6nil, who had always been considered a partizan of the tiers -^tat, declared himself in favour of privileges ; and on this occasion the Count de Lauraguais said to him jeeringly, " Eh ! M. Duval, I do not prevent you from being noble, so pray suffer me to be a bourgeois of Paris !" I was not at Versailles at the opening of the states, but went thither a few days afterwards. The three orders were in open quarrel about the verification of their powers. The tiers- etat wanted this verification to be made in common ; the two other orders insisted upon OF MI II A BEAU. 35 its being done separately. Though the ques- tion appeared of no importance, much in reality depended upon it. The tiers- etat wanted the two orders to unite with them and form but one assembly ; in which case, the commons, from their numerical strength, would always main- tain a preponderance. They adhered to this opinion with the greatest tenacity ; resisted every attempt to bring them into action, and contrived to cast upon the nobility and clergy an imputation of obstinacy, which rendered these orders still more unpopular with the mul- titude. It was a great error of the government to leave this question unsettled. If the King had ordered the union of all three, he would have had the tiers-Hat for him ; — had he ordered the separation, he would have been supported by the nobility and clergy. The states-ge- neral would certainly not have begun their pro- ceedings by an act of disobedience towards the King, then considered the provisional legislator. But the latter, in coming to no decision on the subject, opened the lists to the combatants, and the royal authority D 2 t36 RECOLLECTIONS was destined to become the prey of the vic- tors. 1 had opportunities of seeing how much this delay generated and nourished party feelings. The tiers-ttat continued their proceedings, and at length went so far as to constitute themselves a national assembly, after having sent a peremptory summons to the nobility and clergy, to which those orders declined paying any attention. All the seeds of disorder were sown during this inter- val, and this is a period to which the historian of the revolution ought to pay particular atten- tion. When I entered the hall in which the states sate, there was neither any order in the assembly nor any question of debate before it. The depu- ties were not at first known to each other; but every day made them better acquainted. During their proceedings, they took their places any where, chose the oldest among them to preside at their sittings, and spent their whole time in discussing trifling incidents, listening to news, and the pro- vincial deputies, in making themselves acquainted with Versailles. The hall was constantly full of visitors who OF MIRABEAU. 37 went every where and even took possession of the benches of the deputies, the latter evincing no jealousy nor setting up any claims of privilege. It is true that, not being yet constituted, they considered themselves rather members of a club than of a body politic. 38 RECOLLKCTIONS CHAPTER III. I soon found the person I was looking for. It was Mirabeau. In the course of a long conversa- tion with him, I discovered that he was already annoyed with every body, and in open hostility with most of the members who formed the depu- tation from Provence. I was informed soon after- wards that several humiliating circumstances had occurred to vex him. -When the list of deputies of the several bail- liages was read, many well known names were received with applause. Mounier, Chapelier, Rabaud de Sainte-Etienne, and several others had been distinguished by these flattering marks of approbation ; but, when Mirabeau's name was read, there was a murmur of a different kind, and hooting instead of applause. Insult and contempt showed how low he stood in the estimation of his OF M IRA BEAU. 39 colleagues, and it was even openly proposed to get his election cancelled, when the verification of powers took place. He had employed manoeuvres at Aix, and at Marseilles, which were to be brought forward agamst the legality of his return; and he himself felt so convinced that his election at Marseilles could not be maintained, that he gave the preference to Aix, although he would have been much more flattered at representino- one of the largest and most important cities in the kingdom. He had tried to speak on two or three occasions, but a general murmur always reduced him to silence. It was in this situation of spite and ill-humour, that he published the two first numbers of an anonymous journal entitled, the ** States-General," a sort of lampoon upon the assembly. He compared the deputies to tumul- tuous school-boys, giving way to indecent and servile mirth. He severely attacked M. Necker, the nation's idol. In short, this journal was a collection of epigrams. The government ordered its suppression; but Mirabeau, more excited than discouraged by this prohibition, announced in his own name, his " Letters to his constituents." No one durst dispute the right of a representative of 40 UECOLLECTIONS the people, to give an account of the public sit- tings of the assembly. With my friendship for Mirabeau, and the high opinion I entertained of his talents, it gave me great pain to see him in such disgrace, especially as it inflamed his self-love, and made him per- haps do as much harm as he might have done good. I listened patiently to all his complaints and railings against the assembly. In speaking of its members, he was prodigal in his expres- sions of contempt, and he already anticipated that all would be lost by their silly vanity, and jealousy of every individual who evinced superior abilities. He thought, or rather affected to think, that he was repulsed by a sort of ostracism against talent ; but he would shew them, he said, that they must settle accounts with him ; that he was in advance with the nation, and able to put a pre- ponderating weight in the scale whenever the res- pective merits of his detractors and himself came under judgment. In the midst of these bursts of passion, and these rhodomontades of ven- geance, I easily perceived that he was much af- fected, and I even distinguished the tears of vexa- tion in his eyes. I seized the earliest opportunity of applying a balm to the wounds of his self-love. OF AIIRABEAU. 41 I told him plainly and candidly, that his d6buthad offended every one ; that nothing was more dan- gerous than for a deputy who, like him, might as- pire to the first rank in the assembly, to write a journal ; that to censure the body to which he be- longed, was noi the way to become a favourite with its members; that if, like me, he had lived in a re- public, and seen the concealed springs of party in- trigue, he would not so readily yield to discourage- ment ; that he ought quietly to suffer all the half- talents, and half-reputations to pass before him — for they would destroy themselves, and in the end, each individual be placed according to his specific gravity ; that he was on the greatest theatre in the world ; but he could not attain to eminence except through the assembly ; that the slight mortification he had undergone, would be more than compensated by a single successful day ; and that if he were desirous of obtaining a permanent ascendency, he must follow a new system. This long conversation, which took place in the garden of Trianon, had an excellent effect. Mirabeau, feelingly alive to the voice of friend- ship, softened by degrees, and at length admitted that he was wrong. Soon after, he showed me a letter to his constituents, which he was about to 4fi RECOLLECTIONS publish. We read it together ; it was less bitter than former ones, but was still too much so. We spent a couple of hours in remodelling it, and entirely changing its tone. He even consented, though with repugnance, to praise certain deputies, and re- present the assembly in a respectable light. We then agreed that he should not attempt to speak until some extraordinary occasion offered. Mirabeau had but a slight acquaintance with Duroverai, but was well aware of his talents. He knew that Duroverai had acquired great ex- perience in conducting the political aifairs of Geneva, had a profound knowledge of jurispru- dence, had drawn up the Genevese code of laws, and possessed, in the highest degree, the art of discussion and the routine of popular assemblies. All this, rendered an intimacy with him very de- sirable ; and Mirabeau, who afterwards considered him as his Mentor, never took a step of any consequence without consulting him. At Ver- sailles, we lodged at the hotel Charost. Clavi^re who frequently came from Paris to see the assem« bly, had become reconciled to Mirabeau, and vi- sited us at our hotel, where we assembled now and then a few friends of our own way of thinking, and in particular, our countryman M. Reybaz. 01- MIRABEAU. 43 We endeavoured to promote an intimacy between the latter and Mirabeau, but it was some time before they became familiar. Reybaz, by his coldness of manner, repulsed the most flattering advances ; but he at length yielded, and became one of Mirabeau's most active co-operators. This did not, however, occur till several months after, when Mirabeau had already acquired great ascen- dency in the assembly. I have seen very impor- tant measures prepared in this little committee, and I may speak of them with the more freedom, because I looked on rather than participated in them. I had never meddled with political mat- ters, and felt no inclination to do so. I had, moreover, too high an opinion of the talents of Duroverai and Clavi^re, not to adopt, generally, their way of thinking. I was of great use in pre- venting collision between them, and in calming them when their prejudices, which 1 did not share, were opposed to each other. Duroverai, with many amiable qualities, had unpleasant asperities of temper, and often treated Mirabeau like a truant school- boy. Clavi^re, who looked for- ward to be minister of finance, was in haste to act, and did not willingly lend himself to Duro- verai's plan of bringing about a connexion between 44 RECOLLECTIONS Mirabeau and Necker, and governing, by such coalition, the whole assembly. Duroverai was acquainted with M. Mallouet, who was intimate with M. Necker, and had been of some service to the representatives of Geneva. We often dined at his house ; and on one occa- sion, convinced him of the necessity of bringing about a conference between Mirabeau and M. Necker. Many objections were raised : ** Can Mirabeau be trusted ?" — "Would he concert mea- sures with the minister?" — ** Would not M. Necker commit himself?" Duroverai answered every objection, and M. de Montmorin was con- sulted. The conference took place, and Mirabeau who had never before seen M. Necker, spoke of him, on his return, as a good kind of man, un- justly accused of possessing talent and depth of thought. This interview was not wholly unfruit- ful ; and the promise of an embassy to Constanti- nople, on the dissolution of the assembly, was held out to Mirabeau. The engagement was to be kept secret; and I do not think that Mirabeau, who was the least discreet of men, communicated it to more than some seven or eight persons. 1 must further observe that the King's intentions, and those of M. Necker, were considered so consonant with public OF MIRABEAU. 45 feeling, that a man who pledged himself to second them, did not contract an engagement contrary to the good of the nation. Butthe turn that affairs sub- sequently took, and Mirabeau's great ascendency, soon raised him above an embassy, and placed him in a situation to dictate rather than have conditions imposed upon him. At this period, however, when the permanency of the states was not contem- plated, much less the destruction of the monarchy, the idea of an embassy pleased him much. He wanted to have me appointed secretary, and was already meditating the plan of an ottoman ency- clopaedia. I ought, before I related this circumstance, to have mentioned Mirabeau's first triumph at the assembly of the tiers-Hat. I was the more af- fected by it, because it concerned Duroverai ; and never was the most dreadful state of anxiety suc- ceeded by more intense joy, than on this occa- sion. Duroverai was seated in the hall of the as- sembly, with some deputies of his acquaintance. He had occasion to pass to Mirabeau, a note writ- ten with a pencil. M. . . . , who was already one of the most formidable declaimers of the assem- bly, saw this, and asked the member next him. 46 RECOLLECTIONS who that stranger was, that was passing notes and interfering with their proceedings. The answer he received was a stimulus to his zeal. He rose and in a voice of thunder, stated, that a foreigner, banished from his native country, and residing in England, from whose government he received a pension, was seated among them, assisting at their debates, and transmitting notes and observations to the deputies of their assembly. The agitation on every side of the hall, which succeeded this denunciation, would have appeared to me less sinister, had it been the forerunner of an earth- quake. Confused cries were heard of, " Who is he ?"— " Where is he ?"— " Let him be pointed out!" Fifty members spoke at once ; but Mira- beau's powerful voice soon obtained silence. He declared that he would himself point out the foreigner, and denounce him to the assembly. ** This exile," said he, " in the pay of England, is M. Duroverai, of Geneva; and know, that this respectable man, whom you have so wantonly in- sulted, is a martyr to liberty ; that as attorney- general of the republic of Geneva, he incurred the indignation of our visirs, by his zealous defence of his fellow citizens ; that a lettre de cachet, is- OF MIUABEAU. 47 sued by M. de Vergennes, deprived him of the office he had but too honourably filled ; and when his native city was brought under the yoke of the aristocracy, he obtained the honours of exile. Know further, that the crime of this enlightened and virtuous citizen, consisted in having prepared a code of laws, in which he had abolished odious privileges."* * This is the speech as Mirabeau uttered it : — " I think with the gentleman who spoke last, that no individual, not a deputy, whether he be a foreigner or a native, ought to be seated among us. But the sacred ties of friendship, the still more holy claims of humanity, and the respect I have for this assembly of patriots, and friends of peace, render it a duty imperious on me, to sepa- rate from the simple question of order, the odious accusation which he has had the assurance to couple with it. He has dared to assert, that among the numerous strangers who are assisting at our proceedings, there is an exile ; — one who has taken refuge in England, and is in the pay of the King of Great Britain. Now, this stranger, this exile, this refugee, is M. Duroverai, of Geneva, one of the most respectable citizens in the world. Never had freedom a more enlightened, a more laborious, or a more disinte- rested advocate ! From his youth he was appointed by his coun- trymen to assist in the framing of a code of laws, intended to place the constitution of his country on a permanent basis. Nothing was more beautiful, nothing more philosophically political, than the law in favour of the natives. He was one of its framers. This 48 RECOLLECTIONS The impression produced by this speech, of which the above is only an abstract, was elec- law, so little known, yet so deserving of general attention, esta- blishes the following principle : 'That all republics have perished— nay more, deserved to perish — for having oppressed the people, and not having known that they who govern, can preserve their own liberty only by respecting that of their brethren.' Elected attorney-general of Geneva, by the unanimous voice of his fellow citizens, M. Duroverai incuired, from that moment, the hatred of the aristocrats. They swore his ruin ; and certain that this in- trepid magistrate, would never cease to employ the authority of his office, in defence of the independence of his country, they suc- ceeded in obtaining his dismissal through the interference of a des- potic minister. But even in the midst of party hatred, and the in- trigues of base factions, M. Duroverai's character was respected by calumny itself, whose foul breath never sullied a single action of his life. Included in the pi'oscription which the aristocrats ob- tained from the destroyers of Genevese independence, he retired to England, and wiU, doubtless, never abdicate the honors of exile, until freedom shall once more resume her sway at Geneva. A large number of the most respectable citizens of Great Britain took up the cause of the proscribed republican, procured him the most flattering reception in their country, and induced their go- vernment to grant him a pension. This was a species of civic crown, awarded by that modem people, whom the tutelar genius of the human race seems especially to have appointed to guard and officiate at the altars of freedom. . . . ! Behold then the stranger, tJie exile, the refugee, who has been denounced to you. Formerly OF MIllABEAU 49 trical. It was succeeded by a universal burst of applause. Nothing that resembled this force and dignity of elocution had ever been heard before in the tumultuous assembly of the tiers-Hat. Mirabeau was deeply moved at this first success. Duroverai was immediately surrounded by depu- ties who, by their kind attentions, endeavoured to atone for the insult they had offered him. Thus, an accusation which had, at first, filled me with con- sternation, terminated so much the more to my sa- tisfaction, that when this scene came to be known at Geneva, it could not fail to promote the recall of her exiled citizens. Of course this act of cou- rage, this transport of justice and friendship was not lost upon us, and our connexion was strengthened by the ties of gratitude. If Mira- beau had always served the public cause with the same ardour as he did that of his friend — if he had shown a zeal equally noble, in putting a the persecuted man sought refuge at the altar, where he found an inviolable asylum, and escaped from the rage of the wicked. The hall in which we are now assembled, is the temple which, in the name of Frenchmen, you are raising to liberty ; and will you suffer it to be polluted by an outrage committed upon a martyr of liberty?" — 'Note by Dumonf. E 50 RECOLLECTIONS stop to the calumnies uttered from the tribune, he would have become the saviour of his country. I have but an imperfect recollection of the early proceedings of the assembly, during the dispute of the orders ; but I cannot forget the oc- casion on which a man, who afterwards acquired a fatal celebrity, first brought himself into notice. The clergy were endeavouring, by a subterfuge, to obtain a meeting of the orders ; and for this purpose, deputed the Archbishop of Aix to the tiers-etat. This prelate expatiated very pathe- tically upon the distresses of the people, and the pov^erty of the country parishes. He produced a piece of black bread, which a dog would have rejected, but which the poor were obliged to eat or starve. He besought the tiers-Hat to depute some members to confer with those deputed by the nobility and clergy, upon the means of better- ing the condition of the indigent classes. The tiei's-ctat , who had determined not to stir, per- ceived the snare, but dared not openly reject the proposal, as it would render them unpopular with the lower classes ; when a deputy rose, and after professing sentiments in favour of the poor still OF Ml RA BEAU. 51 stronger than those of the prelate, adroitly threw doubts upon the sincerity of the intentions avowed by the clergy. ** Go," said he to the archbishop, " and tell your colleagues, that if they are so impatient to assist the suffering poor, they had better come hither and join the friends of the people. Tell them no longer to embarrass our proceedings with affected delays ; — tell them no longer to endeavour, by unworthy means, to make us swerve from the resolutions we have taken ; but as ministers of religion — as worthy imitators of their masters — let them forego that luxury which surrounds them, and that splendour which puts indigence to the blush ; — let them resume the modesty of their origin — discharge the proud lackeys by whom they are attended — sell their superb equipages, and convert all their super- fluous wealth into food for the indigent." This speech, which coincided so well with the passions of the time, did not elicit loud applause, which would have been a bravado and out of place, but was succeeded by a murmur much more flattering : ** Who is he?" was the general question , but he was unknown ; and it was not until some time had elapsed, that a name was E 2 52 RECOLLECTIONS circulated which, three years later, made France tremble. The speaker was Robespierre. Rey- baz, who was seated next to me, observed, **This young man has not yet practised; he is too wordy, and does not know when to stop, but he has a store of eloquence and bitterness which will not leave him in the crowd." I had become acquainted with several deputies, and I often dined with the Bishop of Chartres, to whom I had been introduced by Brissot and Clavi^re. I used to meet, at the house of this prelate, his grand vicar, the Abb6 Sieyes, with whom I did not, however, form any intimacy. He was a very absent man, did not encourage familiarity, and was by no means of an open dis- position. He gave his opinion, but without dis- cussion ; and if any one raised an objection, he made no reply. His works had earned him a high reputation. He was considered the oracle of the tiers-^tat, and the most formidable enemy of pri- vileges. He was easily moved to anger, and seemed to entertain the most profound contempt for the present order of society. I thought this friend of liberty must of course like the English, and I sounded him on this subject; but with sur- prise I discovered that he deemed the English OF MIRABEAU. 53 constitution a mere piece of quackery, got up to impose upon the multitude. He seemed to listen to me as if I were uttering absurdities, while I detailed the divers modifications of this system, and the disguised, though real checks upon the three estates composing the legislature. All in- fluence possessed by the crown was, in his eyes, venality, and opposition a mere trick. The only thing which he admired in England, was trial by jury ; but he badly understood its principles, which is the case with every Frenchman, and had formed very erroneous notions on the sub- ject. In a word, he considered the English as tyros in framing constitutions, and that he could give a much better one than theirs to France*. * I must not forget one of the most characteristic traits with which my memory supplies me, relative to the Abbe Sieyes. One day, after having breakfasted at M. de Talle\Tand's, we walked together for a considerable time in the garden of the Tuileries. The Abb6 Sieyes was more disposed to talk and more communicative than usual. In a moment of familiarity and effusion of heart, after having spoken of his studies, his works, and his manuscripts, he uttered these words, which struck me forcibly : " Politics are a science which I think I have made perfect." Had he ever measured the outUne, or formed a con- 54 KKCOLLECTIONS I inquired of the Bishop of Chartres and M. Lasseney concerning the habits and studies of Sieyes, and the manner in which he had ac- quired his knowledge ; for it was easy to per- ceive that he had himself remodelled his educa- tion. Nothing remained of his acquirements at his theological seminary or at the Sorbonne. It ap- pears that at Chartres, where he always spent the greater part of the summer, he lived like a recluse, because he did not like provincial society, and would put himself out of the way for nobody. He read little, but meditated a great deal. The works he preferred were Rousseau's ** Contrat So- cial,'' the writings of Condillac, and Adam Smith's " Wealth of Nations." He had written much, but could not bear the work of revision. He fan- cied he did not possess what is called the knack of writing ; he envied Mirabeau's power and faci- lity in this respect, and would willingly have con- fided his manuscripts to any one capable of giving them that last polish which he felt to be beyond ception of the extent and difficulty of a complete legislation, he would not have ventured upon such an assertion ; and presump- tion, in this case, as in any other, is the surest test of ignorance.— Note by Dumont. OF MIRABEAU. 55 his power. He was little moved by the charms of women, which perhaps originated in a weak and sickly constitution, but was passionately fond of music, with the theory of which he was conver- sant, besides being an excellent performer. This is all 1 was able to collect concerning his charac- ter and habits. At the period I am speaking of, he might be considered the real leader of the tiers- Hat, although no one made less display. But his work on the ** Means of Execution," &c. had pointed out the line of conduct to be pursued by the assembly, and it was he who exploded the term tiers-etat to substitute in its stead that of the comjiions*. The Bishop of Chartres was one of the prelates attached to the popular party ; that is to say, he was favourable to the union of the orders, the vote by individual numbers, and a new constitution. He was neither a politician nor a man of profound learning ; but had much good faith and can- dour, and suspected nothing wrong. He could not imagine, in the tiers-etat, any other views * Active and ardent in his party, he caused more to be done by others than he did himself. He laid down the plan of the battle, but remained in his tent during the combat. Girardin said of him, " He is to a party what a mole is to a grass-plot, he labours and raises it." — Note by Dvmont. 5G RECOLLECTIONS than the reform of abuses and the public good. A stranger to intrigue and sincere in his inten- tions, he followed the dictates of his conscience, and was acted upon by the purest sense of duty. In religion, as in politics, he was a believer, but tolerant, and was much rejoiced at seeing the removal of the protestant disabilities. He ex- pected that the clergy would be called upon to make great sacrifices, but did not anticipate that they would become victims of the revolution. I saw him when the property of the church was declared national property. I found him, one day, with tears in his eyes, discharging his ser- vants, reducing his hospitable establishment, and preparing to sell his jewels for the liquidation of his debts. He assuaged his grief by entering with me into the most confidential details. His regret was not selfish ; but he accused himself of having submitted to be made a dupe by the tiers-^iat, whose interests he had embraced and who, as soon as they became strong, had violated the engagements they had contracted during their weakness. It was indeed painful to an honest and well-meaning man, to have contributed to the suc- cess of so unjust a party ; but never could blame attach less to any individual than to the Bishop of Chartres, I cannot but mention two anecdotes OF :\1IRABEAU. 57 of this worthy prelate, which I never think of without admiration. During the first insurrec- tions, he was deputed by the assembly to pro- ceed to a village near Versailles, and endeavour to save the life of an unfortunate baker, named Thomassin, against whom the people were furious. The venerable bishop had exhausted all the means of reason and persuasion, but to no purpose. He saw the ferocious savages seize the unhappy wretch to tear hira to pieces. He had not an instant to lose. Without hesitation, he threw himself upon his knees in a deep mire, and called upon the assassins to kill him also, rather than force him to witness so atrocious a crime. The frenzied multi- tude of men and women, struck with respect and admiration at this action, drew back an instant, and gave the bishop time to help into his carriage, the wounded and bleeding Thomassin. The other anecdote cannot be compared to this ; but it serves to show his excessive delicacy and high probity. At a period when pretended national reforms had reduced so many individuals to distress, he had purchased, in the street, a gold box at a very low price. On his return home, he perceived that the box was worth much more than he had paid for it. Uneasy at his pur- chase, and fearful of having taken an undue ad- 58 RECOLLECTIONS vantage of the wants of the seller, he did not rest until he had found him out and given him several louis-d'or in addition to what he had already paid, although he would have preferred to return the box which, at that price, was no longer in unison with a change of circum- stances he already perceived to be inevitable. " But," said he, " if I return the box, his wants may force him to sell it at a lower price than I first paid. This is but a small sacrifice, and it is perhaps the last I shall have it in my power to make." To conclude what I have to say about this excellent man — when, after his emigration, he was residing in a village in Germany, the Mar- quis of Lansdowne, who had known him at Spa, sent him anonymously, a letter of credit for a hundred pounds. But he would not at first ac- cept it, declaring that if he were unable to dis- charge such a debt, he would at least know his benefactor, for he did not chuse to be exempted from gratitude. I had the satisfaction of being the interpreter of Lord Lansdowne's sentiments on this occasion, and of testifying to him, under his misfortunes, that respect and esteem still en- tertained towards him by every person who had known him during his prosperity. OV MIIIABEAU. 59 CHAPTER IV. More than a month had elapsed in this state of suspense. Sieyes thought it was high time to send a positive summons to the nobility and clergy, and, on their refusal, to proceed to the verification of powers, and put the commons into a state of activity. But this apparent loss of time had been turned to profit by the deputies of the tiers- ^ tat. They had obtained public favour. The other two orders were divided among themselves, and the votes among the clergy nearly equalized. The people, who saw only the surface of things, considered the nobility and clergy too obstinate to enter into any arrangement, — they having al- ready refused to assemble in the same hall as the 60 RECOLLECTIONS deputies of the tkrs-Hat. The inhabitants of Versailles were in the habit of insulting, in the street and at the doors of the assembly, those whon:i they called aristocrats, a term which, like all other party expressions, subsequently acquired a most direful influence. What surprises me is, that there was no counter designation to distinguish the opposite party, then called the nation. The effect of the latter term, placed in the balance with the other, may readily be conceived. The people of Paris, so easy to govern and so indolent in their state of repose, became by degrees filled, like a balloon, with inflampiable gas. Though the commons began already to feel their strength, there were many different opinions on the manner of bringing it into use, and on the name which should be taken by the assembly, as a collective body. The audacity afterwards shown, was then only in embryo. Every man of forethought judged that the most important con- sequence would result from the decision of such a question. To call themselves a national assem- bly, would be to depreciate, to the lowest degree, the King, the nobles, and the clergy ; — it would, if the government displayed any vigour, prove the OF .'\riUABF:AU. 61 beginning of civil war. To vote themselves simply an assembly of the commons would on the other hand, be only expressing an undoubted fact, and would not force the nobles and clergy to join them ; it merely maintained the subdivisions of the assembly then existing. Several titles were pro- posed as modifications of these two ; for each mem- ber endeavoured to conceal his views and preten- sions ; and even Sieyes himself who rejected every thing tending to maintain the orders, did not dare at once to propose the decisive term o^7iational assembly. He first suggested an ambiguous deno- mination, implying but not expressing that idea ; nor was it till after a debate of two or three days, that he ventured to pass the Rubicon, and get the motion made by a deputy called Legrand. There was an immediate and general call for putting it to the vote, and this voting, which lasted till very late at night, had something sombre and awful. The galleries had, with great difficulty, been forced to absolute silence. There were eighty votes against the denomination of national as- sembly, and nearly five hundred in its favour. I have reserved, to mention separately, the part taken by Mirabeau in this debate. The question had already been discussed in our little society. The danger of a scission with the court and the 02 UECOLLECTIONS nobles ; the evil of opening the states-general by a rupture between the orders ; the necessity of recurring to violent measures to support this first step and overcome resistance ; all these considera- tions were duly weighed ; — but what had still more influence over us, was that we bore in mind the En- glish constitution which we took for our model, and the division of the legislature into two branches appeared to us far preferable to a single assembly over whom there could be no check. Though we ultimately adopted this opinion, it was no easy mat- ter to get Mirabeau to support it as his own. It was against the popular torrent ; and it required courage to commence a determined and systema- tic opposition to Sieyes, the Bretons and the Pa- lais Royal, and brave the calumnies, clamours and suspicions which such an apparent deviation from democratic principles might produce; But Mirabeau possessed, in a high degree, the courage produced by excitement, and was endowed with great presence of mind. He had no objection to an opposition oitclat; was not pleased with Sieyes, who did not flatter him ; and had sufficient confi- dence in himself to think that he could redeem his popularity, should he be deprived of it by the opinion he was about to advocate. In making his motion, he paid many flattering compliments to the OF MIHABEAU. 63 dominant party, abused the privileged orders, and concluded by proposing that the commons should be designated by the title of assembly of the French iKo^le . This motion, not very well understood at first, was not strongly opposed ; but when Mallouet, who passed for a ministerial, was seen to support it, and was bringing the moderates to his way of thinking, the popular party, in alarm, com- menced a violent attack on Mirabeau. The word people, which had at first appeared synonymous with the word nation, was now placed in another light, as having been invented to form opposition with the nobility and clergy who were not the people, and pretended to be above them. Invec- tives were not spared ; the author of the motion was termed an aristocrat in disguise who had in- sidiously endeavoured, by this title, to villify the true representatives of the French nation. The tempest, increasing by degrees, seemed to burst with tenfold fury. I was then in one of the galle- ries talking to Lord Elgin, a young Scottish noble- man who much admired Mirabeau's motion. In- dignant at the absurdities uttered about the word people, I was unable to resist the pleasure of writing what I should myself have said, had I been member of the assembly. After discussing 64 RECOLLECTIONS the question, I wrote with a pencil a sort of apos- trophe intended as a peroration It was addressed to those pretended friends of liberty who fancied themselves degraded at being called deputies of the people. This sketch, very rapidly written, was not wanting in force and elevation. Lord Elgin begged 1 would permit him to read it, and as I had no ultimate view in writing it, I showed him the paper, with which he appeared much pleased. The dinner hour suspended the sitting. I dined at Mirabeau's. Duroverai reproached him with the weakness of his speech, and proved to him that he had neglected the strongest and most con- vincing arguments. 1 showed him my sketch, and the peroration appeared to him so conclusive, that he instantly determined to make use of it. " That is impossible," said I, " for I showed it to Lord Elgin, who was next to me in the gallery." ** And what difference does that make ?" Mira- beau replied; "had you shown it to the whole world, I should certainly quote it as the passage best adapted to the subject." Duroverai, who had an extraordinary desire that this motion should succeed, began to write a refutation of all the arguments urged against it. Mirabeau copied as fast as he could, and OF MIRABEAU. 05 the result was a tolerably complete oration, for the delivery of which, it was only necessary to be allowed to speak. He found much diffi- culty in obtaining a hearing ; but the galleries were so fond of listening to him that the assembly durst not persist in a refusal. The exordium which I had written, excited a tolerable degree of at- tention — the argumentative part passed off with alternate murmurs and applause — but the pe- roration, which he delivered in a voice of thunder, and which was heard with a species of ter- ror, produced an extraordinary effect. It was succeeded, not by cries, but by convulsions of rage. The agitation was general and a storm of invectives burst upon the speaker from all parts of the hall. But he stood, calm and un- moved, whilst I, the poor author of this un- happy attempt, remained petrified in a corner, lamenting an error of judgment so fatal to my friend and cause.* ♦ The following is the peroration. " I persevere in my mo- tion and in its only expression that has called forth animadversion. — I mean the denomination of French people. I adopt it, I defend it, and I proclaim it for the very reason urged in objection to it. — Yes ! it is because the term people is not sufficiently respected in France, that it is cast into the shade and covered with the rust F 66 RECOLLECTIONS When the tumult had somewhat subsided, Mirabeau, in a grave and solemn tone, thus ad- of prejudice; — because it presents an idea alarming to our pride and revolting to our vanity — and is pronoimced with contempt in the chamber of the aristocrats. It is for these very reasons, gentlemen, that I could wish, (and we ought to im- pose the task upon ourselves,) not only to elevate but to en- noble the name, and thereby render it respectable to ministers, and dear to every heart. If this title were not, in fact, already ours, it ought to be selected from amongst every other, and its adoption considered the most valuable opportimity of serving that people from whom we derive our authority — that people whose repre- sentatives we are — whose rights we defend — and yet, whose name, as forming our own denomination and title, would seem to raise the blush of shame on our cheeks. — Oh! how should I exult if, by the choice of such a title, firmness and courage were restored to a trodden-down people! My mind is elevated by the contemplation, in futurity, of the happy effects which may proceed from the use of this name ! The people will look up to us, and we to the people : and our title will remind us of our duties and of our strength. Under the shelter of a name which neither startles nor alarms us, we can sow and cultivate the seeds of liberty ; — we can avert those fatal blasts that would nip it in the bud ; and if we so protect its growth, our descen- dants will sit under the vivifying shade of its wide-spreading branches. — Representatives of the people ! vouchsafe to answer me! Will you go and tell your constituents that you have rejected this name of people 9 — that if you are not ashamed of them, you have, at all events, endeavoured to elude using OF MIRABEAU. 67 dressed the president : " Sir, I depose upon your table the speech which has elicited such strong marks of disapprobation, because it has their name, which does not appear to you a sufficiently flatter- ing title ? — that you want a more fastuous denomination than they could confer upon you ? Gentlemen ! do you not perceive that the title of representatives of the people is absolutely ne- cessary, inasmuch as it will insure to you the attachment of the people, that imposing mass, without which you would be nothing but single individuals — nothing but slender reeds which might easily be broken one by one ? Do you not see that you require the word people, because it shows the people that you have united your fate to theirs ; and it will teach them to . centre in you all their thoughts and all their hopes ! — The Batavian he- roes, who founded the liberties of their country, were more able tacticians than we are. They adopted the denomination of gueux or beggarly fellows ; — they chose this title, because their tyrants had endeavoured to cast it upon them as a term of opprobrium; and this designation, by attaching to their party, that numerous and powerful class so degraded by the despotism of the aristocracy, was, at the same time, their glory, their strength, and the pledge of their success. ITie friends of freedom select the name which is most useful to them, and not that by which they are the most flattered. They are called remonstrators m America, shepherds in Switzerland, and gueux in the Low Countries. They consider the terms of reproach appHed to them by their enemies, as their proudest boast ; for they deprive such terms of all power of humi- liation, the moment they have succeeded in coupling them with honourable deeds ! — Note hy the Genevese Editor. F 2 68 RECOLLECTIONS not been properly understood. I consent to be judged, on the merits of its contents, by all the friends of liberty." So saying he left the hall amid threats and furious imprecations. I called on Mirabeau an hour after. I was overcome by feelings of dread and disappointment, but I found him triumphant, and reading his speech to some inhabitants of Marseilles who were expressing the most enthusiastic admira- tion of it. I must confess that he paid back to the assembly, the slights he had received from them. He compared them to wild asses, who had obtained from nature no other faculty than that of kicking and biting. '* They did not frighten me, my dear friend," said he in a prophetic tone, " and in a week, you shall see me more powerful than ever. They must come to me, when they find themselves about to be over- whelmed by the tempest they have themselves raised. Regret not therefore the events of this evening. The thinkers will perceive something very profound in my motion. As for the fools, I despise them too much to hate them, and will save them in spite of themselves." With all this excess of pride and temporary courage, he had not suf- ficient firmness to attend at the call of the house. OF MIRABEAU. 69 He did not, therefore, vote upon the question ; and thus it was that his name did not appear on the list of the eighty deputies held up, to the people, as traitors sold to the aristocracy. Even his popularity did not suffer at the Palais Royal; whilst Mallouet, Mounier and several others who had maintained the same opinion less openly, were delivered over to popular censure. On the following day, when Sieyes appeared in the hall, all the members, from a spontaneous feeling of respect, rose to receive him, and ap- plause thundered from every side. '' How con- temptible !" said Mirabeau. '* Do they imagine that all is over? I should not be surprised if civil war were the fruit of their wise decree." The nobles were confounded at the audacity of the tiers-etat. They who had access to the King, told him that all would be lost, if he did not oppose this usurpation on the part of the commons. The debates in the chamber of the nobility, were scenes of enfuriated passion. The decree of the tiers-etat was termed an out- rage, treachery, high treason. The frenzy was at its height; and it was said that the King ou2ht to call all his faithful subjects to defend 70 RECOLLECTIONS him, put himself at the head of his troops, order the seditious to be arrested, and dissolve the assembly. The cause of the events which followed, may be traced to the excitement of party spirit, and to the violent language which resulted from it. It is necessary to have witnessed this ferment to comprehend what followed. Many historical facts, stripped of the circumstances by which they were prepared, seem inexplicable. The at- mosphere at Versailles was dark and scorching ; and the storm which was gathering, must needs be terrible. At this juncture, Duroverai conceived a plan which he mentioned to M. Mallouet, but feared to confide to the indiscretion of Mirabeau, in whom neither party had any confidence. This plan was, that the King should sit as the provi- sional legislator of France, annul the decree of the commons which constituted them a national assembly, but at the same time, order the nobles and clergy to join the tiers- ^tat for the joint veri- fication of their powers, and proceed in concert for the future. The object of this sitting was, therefore, to do by royal authority that which the OF iMIKABEAU. 71 commons had effected by setting aside the King's power ; — to decree the union of the nobles and clergy with the tiers-etat, in order that this union should emanate from the King, and not from the commons. This was intended only to save ap- pearances, for the result would be the same. But by this measure, the nobility would not appear at the assembly under circumstances humiliating to their pride, and it would, moreover, put an end to those violent disputes between the three orders, which could only end either in the triumph of the commons, by means of a popular movement, or in the dissolution of the assembly, which would be the precursor of a civil war. Mallouet entered warmly into Duroverai's plan, and brought M. Necker to the same way of thinking ; but there was no direct communicatioh between the latter and Duroverai. The plan of the royal session was adopted by the King, but M. Necker's arguments in its favor were made subservient to a modification which certainly he never intended. After an animated discussion in the council, the Count d'Artois and his party triumphed : and it was resolved that the decree of the commons should be annulled, but without enjoining a union of the orders 72 RECOLLECTIONS Thus was the real object of the measure done away, and nothing but its mere form remained, M. Necker had aimed at clothing democracy with the pomp of royalty ; but this measure had only invested aristocracy with despotism. The forms of authority which, with propriety, might be used to ennoble a necessary act of condescension, became revolting, when employed in an act of power which the King had no means of following- up. Not but the royal session in itself, when fairly considered, will be found to contain the strongest concessions ever made by monarch to his subjects ; and which, at any other period, would have called forth their warmest gratitude. When a prince is powerful, every thing he grants is a gift — every thing he does not take, a favor ; but if he be weak, that which he grants is only a debt due — that which he refuses to comply with, an injustice. The commons determined to be a national assembly. Nothing less would satisfy them. If the government chose to oppose this, they should have prepared the means of doing so ; but to annul the decrees, and excite popular ferment, without taking a single precaution, without even having a party in the assembly, was an act of OF MIRABEAU. 73 madness which led to the overthrow of the monarchy. Nothing is more dangerous than to stimulate a weak man to acts beyond his strength ; for when resistance to his will has shown his real weakness, he has no resource left. Thus was the royal authority degraded, and even the people discovered the secret of the King's impotency. The measures attendant upon the royal session were as badly combined as if they had related to the acts of unruly school-boys. The hall of the states-general was closed for three or four days. A display of soldiers imparted to these prepara- tions an appearance of violence. The deputies, driven from their hall at the point of the bayonet, met in the famous Jeu-de-Paumey or Tennis-court, where they swore never to separate until they had obtained a constitution. Even the eighty members forming the minority who had opposed the decree, took this oath ; for being ignorant of what was going on, they ima- gined that tlie King was about to dissolve the states-general ; and Mirabeau, then laboring under the same mistake, spoke so energetically against such dissolution, that even his greatest enemies began to look upon him as a giant, whose 74 RECOLLECTIONS strength, in the present crisis of affairs, had become necessary to them. This scene, — where fear was masked by an appearance of bold deter- mination — where the most timid became the most violent — must have been witnessed to convey an adequate conception of the evils it produced in the course of the revolution. The alarmed de- puties were for ever alienated from the King's government ; the oath was a tie of honor, and from that day, the deputies of the tiers-Hat were confederated against the royal authority. The appearance of persecution redoubled the popu- larity of the commons, at whose danger the Pari- sians were alarmed. The Palais-Royal was a scene of absolute frenzy; and dark rumours seemed to menace the lives of some of the most distin- guished individuals at court. In a hazy horizon, objects cannot be seen as they really are. The alarmed populace became suspicious and active, nor could any subsequent conciliatory measures of the court, restore the public confidence. Such was the true origin of that burning excitement so carefully kept alive by two classes of men, the factious and the timid. The day after the meeting at the Jeu-de~Paume, the deputies, still excluded from their hall, in OF MIRABEAU. 75 which preparations for the King's reception were in progress, presented themselves at the door of several churches, but were not admitted. The sight of the representatives of the nation thus seeking an asylum and finding none, increased the popular discontent. At length they entered the church of St. Louis, where a doubtful majority of the clergy, headed by the Archbishop of Vienne, the Archbishop of Bordeaux, and the Bishop of Chartres, joined the deputies of the tiers-kat amid transports, which the approaching danger ren- dered sincere. Greetings, applauses, pathetic speeches, and even tears, announced that all were united heart and hand against a common peril ; and the conduct of the clergy, on this occasion, was the more meritorious because it was volun- tary. Who would have anticipated, at this pe- riod, that very shortly after, an ecclesiastic would be unable to appear in public without suffering the most degrading insults ! On the day of the royal session, I went to the palace to witness the splendid pageant. I well remember the hostile and triumphant looks of many individuals, in their way to the chateau. They considered the victory sure. I saw the King's ministers, whose emotion, though they 76 RECOLLECTIONS affected unconcern, was but too apparent. The attitude of the Count d'Artois was haughty ; the King seemed pensive and sad. The crowd was great, and the silence profound. When the King got into his carriage, there were rolling of drums and flourishes of trumpets, but not a sign of approbation from the people, and fear alone pre- vented an explosion of popular discontent. At length the vast procession began to move. The royal household and its officers, the guards, infantry and cavalry, proceeded towards the hall of the states-general, in which the three orders assembled were defying each other with looks of mute indignation, and impatiently awaiting the result of this important day. Never had passions so violent and so diametrically opposed to each other, been before pent up in so small a space. The ceremony was precisely the same as on the opening of the states-general, but what a dif- ference was there in the feelings of the assembly ! The day of the first ceremony was a national festival, — the regeneration of political freedom ; but now, the same pomp which had delighted every eye, was covered with a veil of terror. The sumptuous dresses of the nobles, the mag- nificence of regal state, and the splendour of OF MIRABEAU. 77 royal pageantry, seemed the accompaniment of a funeral procession. I was not present at the session, and have obtained my knowledge of what passed from the recital of others ; but I know, that when the King and nobles had withdrawn, the commons attempted to disguise their consternation. They began to perceive the consequences of the de- cree they had so unheedingly promulgated, and found that they had now no other alternative than to subjugate the monarchy, or basely recall their act. No one had yet attempted to speak, when a message from the King ordered them to sepa- rate. It was then that Mirabeau uttered those famous words which form an epoch in the re- volution, and which roused the sunken spirits of the assembly.* The deliberation assumed a de- cisive character, and the royal session was termed a bed of justice. This called to mind how the parliaments had always acted on such emer- gencies — how often the latter had dared to annul the orders given to them by the King in person, and succeeded, by their perseverance, in triumph- * " Go, tell your master, that we are here by the power of the people, and nothing but the force of bayonets shall drive us hence !" 78 RECOLLECTIONS ingover the court; Before the deputies separated, they confirmed their decree, and renewed the oath of the Jeu-de-Paume ; and scarcely had the King entered the palace, when they had can- celled the acts of the royal session. One circumstance which encouraged the resist- ance of the deputies, was that M. Necker had not attended the King on this occasion. He was the only minister not present, and his absence seemed to mark his disapprobation of the measure. His popularity thence prodigiously increased, and the people considered him their safe-guard against the storm. The assembly, who afterwards be- came jealous of the people's affection for him, because they wanted to engross it all to them- selves, felt it their interest at that period, to make him a public idol, and, with his name, to counterbalance the court. His absence, however, originated in a very simple cause. There was a certain M. de Riol, who called himself a Chevalkr and wore some Swedish order, — a very knowing kind of individual, who contrived to thrust himself every where. Although a subaltern, he lived on terms of great familiarity with M. Necker. We had become acquainted with this individual, who called upon us on the very day of the royal session. OF MIRABEAU 79 He assured us that he had found M. Necker on the point of setting out for M. de Montmorin's, in order to proceed to the palace, and accompany the King to the assembly; but that he (Riol) conjured him to do no such thing, as he would inevitably have to share in the odium of the measure, and would be unable to do any good in future. Riol added, that he had carried his zeal so far as to tell Necker he would rather break one of his arms or legs, than suffer him to proceed ; and that Madame Necker, in great agitation, having joined her entreaties to his, M. Necket at last yielded. I have no reason either to doubt or to confirm this fact ; but if it be true, M. Necker suffered his determination, on so important a matter, to be influenced by a very insignificant personage.* It is, however, certain, that a witless man often communicates his fears in a more persuasive manner than an intellectual one ; and his gestures * Impartiality forces us to state that Madame de Stael, in her ' Considerations on the French revolution/ (Chap, 20) attributes M. Necker's absence to a determination previously taken, in con- sequence of the changes made in his plan ; and according to the same authority, M. Necker replied to the wish, expressed by the court, that he should be present at the royal session, by tendering his resignation. 80 RECOLLECTIONS sometimes produce a stronger effect than either reason or eloquence. But surely M. Necker was not to blame for not sanctioning with his pre- sence, a measure in furtherance of which his soeeches had been insidiously used, after changing the vital part of the plan he had proposed. Mirabeau was made acquainted by Clavi^re, who could not keep a secret, with the true origin of the royal session. He complained of it to me in terms of indignation. ** Duroverai,'' said he, ** did not think me worthy of being consulted." He looks upon me, I know, as a madman with lucid intervals. But I could have told him beforehand what would be the fate of his plan. It is not with such an elastic temperament as that of the French, that these brutal forms must be resorted to. And what kind of man is this M. Necker, that he should be trusted with such means ? You might as well make an issue in a wooden leg as give him advice ; for he certainly could not follow it." And getting warmer as he proceeded, he concluded with these remarkable words, " It is thus that Kings are led to the scaf- fold T OF MI U A BEAU. 81 CHAPTER V. It was at this period that the people began to display agitation. I have no doubt that there were insurrection-committees, paid declaimers, a great deal of money distributed ; and that the directors of the popular feelings had agents at Versailles, the major part of whom belonged rather to the minority of the nobles than to the tiers-4tat. I will not, indeed, venture to assert, that I am ac- quainted with particulars ; but I firmly believe that the deputies of the tiers-etat acted, at this momentous crisis, with very little concert among themselves. There was a commencement of or- ganization only among the deputies from Brittany, who had already been somewhat drilled into the tactics of popular assemblies, by their public dis- putes in their native province. So far as I was able to ascertain, the Breton club, which was G 82 RECOLLECTIONS acquiring great importance, was frequented by the minority of the nobles ; but there will be no complete history of the revolution, until some member of this party publishes secret memoirs of its transactions. I well remember an anecdote of that period. I one day encountered Sieyes who had just quitted a meeting composed of Bretons and nobles of the minority. He men- tioned no names, but said, ** I will return to those men no more. Their politics are too cavernous ; — they propose crimes instead of ex- pedients." Duport and the Lameths had the reputation of having machinated the revolution of Paris. It was easy for the Duke of Orleans to put the centre districts in motion. He was like a spider in the midst of the web. But I know nothing of these events, except through public channels. Mira- beau was not connected with them. His fiery and ungovernable temper, disqualified him for coali- tions. His ideas were not sufficiently connected, nor did he inspire confidence enough to become a chief, and he had too much pride to play a sub- ordinate part ; he therefore remained indepen- dent ; — envious to excess of every rising influ- ence, epigrammatic by wholesale, a retail dealer OF MIRABEAU. 83 in flattery, and alienated from his colleagues by his contempt for some, and his jealousy of others. I often went to Paris with him, and am convinced that he had no share in the rising of the Pa- risians. They who would account for the French revo- lution, by attributing it to concealed machinators, are mistaken. Such machinators did certainly not create the public feeling ; they only took advantage of it. True it is, that they excited and directed it ; but it is absurd to suppose, that any conspirators at this period, could have given so sudden and violent an impulsion ; — one, in short, so vast as to include simultaneously the whole French nation. Every one was in motion at Paris ; even the coldest and most calculating, partici- pated in the phrenzy of the moment. The whole popular mass was in a state of extreme caldes- cence. A word from the Palais Royal, an acci- dental movement, the merest trifle, in fine, might cause a general commotion. In such a state of things, tumult begets tumult, and the disease of the evening is aggravated next day. Although the details are somewhat effaced from my memory, I yet bear well in mind the interval between the royal session, and the mournful ap- G 2 84 RECOLLECTION'S parition of the King, at the assembly, when he came to deliver himself up, or rather to place his person in deposit there, after the capture of the Bastille. I recollect this period as one of trouble, confusion, and obscurity. False alarms were given, people knew and did not know, orders were given and revoked, every thing was attempted to be guessed at and explained, and a motive was attributed to the most indifferent actions. The palace was watched ; spies were placed every where, and the veriest trifle was magnified into im- portance. There were insurrections at Versailles, originating, not in a preconcerted plan, but in a suspicious and irascible disposition. Meantime, the three orders remained divided, and had as- sumed hostile attitudes. The court sent troops to quell the insurrections. Versailles was filled with foreign soldiers, and military measures seemed every where adopted. There were whispers of a change of ministry, and the new names mentioned, did not tend to tranquillize the commons, So much bustle on the part of court, could be intended only to enforce obedience to the royal session, either by removing the assembly to a greater distance from Paris, its proximity to which was dangerous, or by dissolving it altogether, if this could be done OF MI 11 ABE A U. 85 without the risk of a civil war, the idea of which made the King shudder. But whatever were the intentions of the court or of those who conducted its affairs, such intentions were certainly not in uni- son with those of the King. There was an alarm- ing secrecy in the whole conduct of the court party ; clandestine preparations were discovered, and plans seemed to be in a course of develop- ment, but no result was ever perceived. Such conduct raised general indignation, and the fer- mentation at Paris was at its climax. Reybaz and Clavi^re returned from Paris, and assured us that it would be soon impossible to con- tain the people. They urged Mirabeau to stand forward upon this occasion. " If," said they, " the tiers-dtat were wrong in voting themselves a na- tional assembly, still it is a measure which cannot now be recalled, without degrading the repre- sentatives of the people, and affording a complete triumph to the insolence of the aristocracy. Should the states-general be dissolved, a national bank- ruptcy must be the inevitable consequence. The people will rejoice at this, because the govern- ment will reduce the taxes ; there will be then no further difficulty, and the cause of freedom will be lost." I am certain, that at this period, the ere- 86 RECOLLECTIONS ditors of the state, a very numerous and active body, all powerful at Paris, were acting in direct opposition to the court, because they perceived but too plainly, that if the government declared a national bankruptcy, the deficit would be thought of no more, and the words states-general, constitution, and sovereignty of the people, totally forgotten. It was at length discovered, that agents of the court were sounding the regiments recently ar- rived at Versailles and likewise the French guards, in order to ascertain how far their fidelity to the government might be depended on. There was now no time to be lost, and it was thought neces- sary that the King himself should be warned of these manoeuvres, whose object and danger were probably concealed from him. These points were introduced by Mirabeau into his famous speech upon the removal of the troops. This speech was a sort of abstract of every thing that had been said upon the subject during our private con- ferences. I wrote it, and Duroverai drew up the resolutions containing the proposed measure. One of these resolutions called upon the King to esta- blish a militia of citizens. It was the only one rejected by the assembly, though, perhaps, it was OF MIliAin^AU. 87 the most important. Duroverai saw that if the people took up arms, the royal authority would be annihilated ; but if the King himself armed the citizens, such a choice of men and officers might be made, that this institution, like the English militia, would be a bulwark against insurrection, without alarming the advocates of liberty. The last of these resolutions was to present an address to the King, relative to the removal of the troops. A committee was appointed to draw up this ad- dress ; for the assembly sent every thing to com- mittees, in order to give as little importance as possible to individuals. But as writing in common, is the most difficult of all conjunct functions, Mira- beau was requested by the committee to make a draft of the address. Animated by the success of the speech, and full of the subject, encouraged moreover, by the flattery and affectionate caresses of Mirabeau, whom the applause of the assembly had filled with delight, I wrote with great ease and rapidity, in the interval between one sitting and another, the address to the King.* I remember a circumstance which amused me at the time. Garat, who was member of the com- * Vide Appendix, No. 1 . 88 RECOLLECTIONS mittee, came to ask the hour at which Mirabeau could attend. I was then in the fire of composi- tion, and he was obliged to elude replying, by shuffling and giving an oblique turn to the ques- tion. Next day, at M. de la Rochefoucauld's, another member of the committee, whose name I forget, spoke greatly in favour of this address, and praised the modesty of Mirabeau, who had con- sented to all the alterations demanded, as if, in this composition, he had foregone his vanity of authorship. I know not whether my self-love were more sensible on the occasion than his, but I certainly thought that the alterations had not improved the address. Duroverai kept the original a long time, a thing I did not even think of. Though flattered by the applause be- stowed upon this production, I was not silly enough to fancy it a masterpiece. I considered that its greatest merit arose from the circumstance which occasioned it. There was dignity and simplicity in the style, with as much oratorical eloquence as was consistent with the respect due to the mo- narch, and with the dignity of the assembly who addressed him. The expressions were measured and unctuous, and the whole was in good keeping with the subject. Mirabeau approved of it the OF MIRABEAU. 89 more because he felt himself unable to write in this particular way : " My style readily assumes force," said he, " and I have a command of strong expressions ; but, if I want to be mild, unctuous, and measured, I become insipid, and my flabby style makes me sick." Had I afterwards discovered any faults in this address, I must not have pointed them out to Mi- rabeau ; for he attached himself so strongly to his adopted children that he felt for them the affection of a parent. * If the honor of these compositions did belong to another, it must not be thought that the un- known author derived no enjoyment from them. The approbation of a circle of some half dozen friends is always flattering, without including those whom they may have let into the secret. I have not to accuse myself of any indiscretion of this kind ; or strictly speaking, perhaps, my own * When I worked for Mirabeau, I seemed to feel the pleasure of an obscure individual who had changed his children at nurse, and introduced them into a great family. He would be obliged to respect them, although he was their father. Such was the case with my writings. When Mirabeau had once adopted them, he would have defended them even against me ; more than that — he would have allowed me to admire them, as an act of esteem and friendship for himself. — Note by Dumont. 90 RECOLLECTIONS self-love may have been the best guardian of the secret; for the instant I had been tempted to reveal it, I should have fancied that I perceived an expression of doubt and incredulity upon every countenance. But in sober earnest, I can de- clare, that knowing such a proceeding to be re- pugnant to delicacy and friendship, the tempta- tion never once occurred to me. 1 was not long in perceiving that Mira- beau's friends considered Duroverai and me as his writers. His life of agitation, his being much out, his occupations at the assembly, his committees, his loss of time, and his taste for pleasure, prevented those who knew him from considering him the author of the writings which appeared in his name. At a later period, a greater number of workmen were added to his manufac- tory. But when I was designated in the Acts of the Apostles^ and other pamphlets, as one of Mira- beau's authors, I no longer felt the same pleasure in writing for him ; and this circumstance deter- mined me, as I shall hereafter explain, to return to England. The King's answer to the address was not sa- tisfactory. His personal intentions were thought good, and he was supposed to act under influence OF MIRABEAU. 91 and deception. There was a plan in a course of development, whose extent and object were not known. The threats of certain subordinates, their insulting looks, apparent preparations for a couj) d^tat, the movements of the troops, nocturnal visits to the guard-houses by officers of rank, secret councils at court, to which M. Necker was not summoned, and a thousand particulars of the same description, constituted the events of every day. These were again exaggerated and distorted by the general uneasiness and alarm. No one was yet bold enough to speak of the con- spiracy of the court — this term was not applied till after the victory; — but the consternation was general. The approach of the troops and the dismissal of M. Necker, brought on the insurrec- tion of Paris. I say nothing of this event, be- cause I was not an eye-witness of it. I remained at Versailles with the national assembly, whose intrepidity was not to be shaken by the approach of danger. It was no longer divided into parties ; all had one unanimous feeling. The dissolution of the states-general appeared to all, pregnant with the greatest danger. The sitting of Monday, the 13th of July, was awfully calm. There were a thousand con- 92 RECOLLECTIONS fused reports relative to what had occurred at Paris on the preceding day. It was known that the people had repulsed the regiment of the Prince of Lambesc, and driven it back to the Tuileries : that the French guards had joined the people, and had been engaged with the Swiss ; that the populace were arming ; that they had broken open the armourer's shops, and closed the city gates ; and that Paris, in a word, was in open insurrection. Mirabeau told us that he had a list of proscriptions ; that Sieyes, Chapelier, Lafayette, Lameth, himself and several others were to be arrested ; that they had been put upon their guard and intended to pass the night at the assembly, where they should consider themselves safer than in their own houses. The assembly continued its sitting throughout the night, and in the intervals between the deputations despatched to the King to be- seech him to withdraw the troops whose presence had inflamed the metropolis, they discussed, if I remember rightly, a declaration of the rights of man presented by Lafayette. Li his answer to the deputation, the King stated that his heart was lacerated ; that it was impossible the orders he had given, for the restoration of the public OE MIRAI3EAU. 93 peace, could have led to the rising of" Paris. But he spoke not of withdrawing the troops, and the individuals, by whom he was surrounded, were not calculated to restore confidence. The plan of the court seemed to continue its progress, when the assembly made a last effort, and on the Tues- day morning sent a more solemn deputation to the King. Mirabeau, with a voice rendered hoarse by watching, fatigue, and uneasiness, said a few words, which were rapturously applauded. It is a well known fact that the troops at Versailles had declined obedience ; and that after the fall of the Bastille, and the metamor- phosis, which, in two days, had changed the peaceful citizens of Paris into an army of two hundred thousand men, the King had no other alternative than to unite himself to the national assembly and seek his safety among its members. What a contrast did this form with the sitting of the 21st of June ! The King announced his in- tention of going to Paris forthwith. Mirabeau astonished at this resolve, and still more so at its subsequent execution, afterwards said to me, " He must be a bold mortal who advised this step. Had the King not followed the advice, Paris was lost to him for ever. Two or three days later. y4 llECOLLECnONS and he would have been unable to return thither." I attribute these words to the singular sagacity with which Mirabeau was gifted. He knew the Duke of Orleans' party, and might have thought that this prince would have taken advantage of the circumstance to obtain possession of the me- tropolis. If the Duke's party did indeed form any such plan, it was frustrated by the sudden appearance of the King, who, thereby, in some degree, revived the almost extinct affection of the Parisians. It seemed as though the two hundred thousand men under arms had concerted among themselves to receive him with the most appalling solemnity. In proceeding to the H6tel-de-Ville, he heard no other cry than, " long live the assembly!" but on his return, as if the chastisement had been severe enough, he was saluted by acclamations of ** long live the King!" The King was a man of weak character, but by no means timid ; of which his conduct on this day furnished a striking illustration. It required a great degree of courage to go into the midst of an enraged populace, who seemed conferring a favour on their monarch by receiving him within the walls of his own capital. When M. Bailly told him that Henry IV had conquered his people, but the OF MIRABEAU. 95 people had now conquered their King, he turned round and said in a whisper to the Prince of Beauveau, *' Perhaps I had better not hear that." The Prince of Beauveau made a sign in reply and the orator proceeded. The death of the Marquis of Mirabeau, the author of " The Friend of Man,"" obliged Mirabeau to absent himself from the assembly for a few days. This occurred during the motions for the recall of M. Necker, and against the new minis- ters. M. Bertrand de Molleville, who has en- riched his pretended *' Annals of the Revolution " with all his own prejudices, attributes Mirabeau 's silence on these occasions, to profou?id mtentions. Mirabeau had made me promise to employ my leisure time in writing for him a sketch of the revolution. I began it at Paris, but I had great difficulty in collecting facts, reconciling contra- dictions, reducting exaggeration, and separating truth from falsehood. The causes of events were always hidden, the secret councils of the court unknown. Much might always be urged on both sides of the question, and it might be maintained with perhaps equal plausibility, that there was a court conspiracy, and there was not. It appeared to me necessary to distinguish the acts of the 96 RECOLLECTIONS King from those of his ministers, and to represent him as having concurred in a plan of which the most vital points had been concealed from him. Even with regard to Paris itself, the more the scene was extended, the more confused were the details. Some described to me the capture of the Bastille as a wonderful achievement ; others reduced it to a mere nothing, and I really knew not what conclusion to come to with regard to Launay and his invalids. The crimes of the period appeared to me the mere effect of sudden excitement, but every one seemed to believe that they were mixed up with treachery. Persuaded at last that the secret history of no great political event was ever well known even at the period of its occurrence, I wrote, in the best way I could, the account contained in the nineteenth letter of Mirabeau to his constituents, in which he made some alterations, and struck out some expressions of doubt, because the court conspiracy was more manifest to him than to me. This letter was pro- digiously successful. OF M IRA BEAU. ^7 CHAPTER VI. All Mirabeau's letters to his constituents, beginning from the eleventh, were written by either Duroverai or me. Mirabeau, who was very desirous of keeping us at Paris during the session of the National Assembly, proposed a literary partnership which offered a good chance of profit. We were to establish a regular journal in his name, the profits of which, after deduct- ing the expenses, were to be equally divided between himself, le Jay the bookseller, Du- roverai and me. A reasonable monthly sum for our current expenses was to be included in the outgoings of the paper, whose title was to be " Le Courrier de Provejice." It was announced in the nineteenth letter to which I alluded at the end of the last chapter ; and H 98 RECOLLECTIONS although the subscription was high, so many sub- scribers appeared, that we all fancied our fortunes made. In a few days, our list contained more than three thousand names. Orders from the provinces were large in proportion. Had le Jay been a man of business, or his wife, who managed every thing, shown a little order and honesty, they would have made a rapid fortune ; for a considerable allowance was made to them for printing and commission. They had, besides, the fourth part of the net profits, and Mira- beau also gave up to them his share ; but their impropriety of conduct and rapacity ruined the undertaking. Being entirely occupied in writing the articles, and residing, moreover, at Versailles, we were obliged to trust wholly to their inte- grity. The subscribers were continually mak- ing complaints ; and those in the provinces were so neglected that they were sometimes a whole month without receiving any paper. The reason of this was that "le Jay had often not money enough to pay for the carriage by the diligence. The parcels were consequently delayed, and the country booksellers complained without obtain- ing redress. The printer at Paris refused to print when his payments were in arrear, and OF MIRABEAU. 99 Mirabeau was often obliged to make advances to keep the thing going. When, at the expiration of four months, we called for an account, there was none forthcoming. Madame le Jay con- cealed her books. She had furnished her house and purchased stock in trade with the money re- ceived, and her small pamphlet stall had been con- verted into a splendid bookseller's shop ; in short all in her establishment announced opulence ; but having appropriated to herself the amount of the subscriptions, she would come to no settlement. I left it to Duroverai to settle this business, for litigation did not accord with my habits. Money matters interested me very little, and I under- stood them not. Mirabeau was placed between two fires. He was irritated at Madame le Jay's dishonesty, and said to her one day in my pre- sence, '* Madame le Jay, if probity did not exist, it should be invented as a means of growing rich." But Madame le Jay had other means of obtaining the victory, and Mirabeau's liaison with this artful and determined female prevented him from making too much noise. She was in possession of all his secrets ; knew too many anecdotes of him ; and was too dangerous and too fond of mischief for him to think of a rupture, although he was . H 2 JOO RECOLLECTIONS tired of her, and in the high sphere in which he was moving, often felt that such a connexion degraded him. This is the only time, during the whole course of my life, that I was ever involved in a dispute relative to money 'matters, and had an opportunity of closely observing the ma- noeuvres of fraud and the passion of cupidity. Le Jay was a fool who promised every thing ; but he trembled like a child before his wife. Mirabeau, ashamed of our disappointment, swore that the national assembly was easier to govern than a woman who had made up her mind. But violence is always overcome by sang-froid. She replied to his reproaches with the most piquant raillery. *' All the bar," said he, '* would grow grey before they could convince her. I defy the "most artful lawyer to find the subtleties which she invents." As it was impossible to recover our money by a law-suit, we came to a determination of ceasing our contributions to the journal. This disconcerted her at first; but she thought she could easily induce me to go on again, and undertook it in a conversation full of artifice. Without anger, and without even alluding to the subject of our quarrel, I drily told her that I would never sepa- rate from Duroverai. " Very well," she replied. OF MlllABEAU. 101 " do as you please. I am sorry for it ; but there are other writers besides you, in this great city, and I have already received ofters from several." On leaving me, she applied to all the literary men she knew, and proposed her journal ; which, in her own opinion, was as much her property as any es- tate she might have purchased; — for she consi- dered Duroverai and me merely as two labourers in her hire. After many fruitless attempts, she at length got two individuals to undertake it; one of whom was M. Guiraudez, a man of talent and learning, whom I had met at Mirabeau's. Such a proceeding, more than uncivil on the part of this individual, surprised me much, but it met with its due reward ; for had these gentlemen pos- sessed more talent than really belonged to them, they had not been in the practice of attending the national assembly and were unable to designate individuals; having moreover no communication with any of the deputies, through whom alone they could have ascertained what was going on behind the scenes, they gave nothing but long and tame extracts from speeches, without being able to afford any interesting information. Mirabeau was furious at the abuse of his name, and wanted to insert notices in all the public prints. 102 RECOLLECTIONS Complaints to Madame le Jay poured in from all quarters. Guiraudez and his colleague, ashamed of their conduct and still more of their want of success, — overwhelmed, besides, with reproaches from Mirabeau, — repented of their folly ; and without coming to any settlement with Madame le Jay about the past, we entered into a new arrangement for the future. I know not why I have written these insignifi- cant details. I shall expunge them if I find here- after that these Recollections become sufficiently i nteresting to deserve my more particular attention. The composition of this journal became a source of amusement to us. Duroverai and I undertook the alternate sittings of the assembly. A few words written in pencil, sufficed to call to our re- collection the arguments of a speech and the order of a debate. We never intended to record all the idle prating in the tribune. As most of the important speeches were written, Mirabeau took care to ask for them for us, and many deputies sent them of their ov/n accord. The most diffuse sometimes complained of our reducing their drop- sical and turgescent productions. Though few were satisfied, yet Mirabeau re- ceived thanks which he did not fail to transmit OF MIRABEAU. 103 US. " The provincials must think," said Cha- pelier to him, " that we speak like oracles, when we are read stripped of our verbiage and non- sense." Our principal care in important discussions, was to omit no argument advanced by either party. It was an impartial summing up of the debate. Even Mirabeau, although his extravagances were pal- liated, obtained no flattery. Barring a few in- nocent pleasantries, which served to amuse our readers, we never indulged in personalities, and, except in a few particular cases, Mirabeau him- self felt that the greatest service we could render him was never to lend ourselves to the vengeance of his self-love. Sieyes complained bitterly of some criticisms upon his " Rights of Man," and upon his ** Principles of Constitutions." " Do not make me quarrel with that man," said Mira- beau, " for his vanity is implacable." I have lately read many articles of this journal, and am now surprised at the boldness with which the assembly is censured. The want of order and connexion in its constitutional and financial operations ; its manner of laying down general principles and overlooking details ; its insidious manner of anticipating decisions ; its having over- 104 RECOLLECTIONS thrown the old established authority before other institutions were formed to replace it ; its consti- tuting itself an office of delation ; and its usurpa- tion of ministerial duties, are all visited with se- vere comments. The defects of its internal regu- lations are presented without palliation, and a faithful picture is given of its incoherence, disorder and the fiery impatience always attendant upon its proceedings. During an absence of Duroverai, in 1790, M. Reybaz, who had already supplied us with seve- ral very interesting articles, undertook his share of the work, and executed it with much more accuracy than he. I ended my labours, in the beginning of March, by a discussion on religious communities and the spirit of monachism. Du- roverai and Reybaz continued together for some months, and the paper, abandoned at length by Mirabeau, became a mere compilation of speeches and decrees, and retained nothing of our journal but the name. I was often disgusted with this work, because the simple operation of abridging speeches and reporting the tumultuous proceedings of the as- sembly was not a kind of occupation to afford me pleasure. On the other hand, the rapidity of the OF MIRABEAU. 105 whirlwind by which the assemply was swept along, left no time for study and meditation. Thus the work, in spite of some tolerable articles, is mediocre and often very bad. I am not sur- prised that it incurred at last the same contempt as all the ephemeral productions of that period. I shall, however, extract in another place, some passages which may serve to give an idea of the interior of the assembly, and which no one would take the trouble of looking for in a large com- pilation. Besides my contributions to this journal, I continued to supply my share of Mirabeau's legislative labours. I shall now proceed to mat- ters much more interesting. 106 RECOLLECTIONS CHAPTER VIL After the insurrection of Paris, the national assembly was soon completed, by the majority of the nobles and the minority of the clergy uniting with it. The forms of ordinary civility were still entertained by the tiers-dtat towards these two orders, who were received with silence and dig- nity, but without bravado. The speeches of Bailly, then president of the assembly, were too complimentary, and sincerity was sacrificed to good-breeding. Whilst the bosoms of all were ulcerated and bleeding, their words breathed no- thing but friendship and concord. These ma- noeuvres were intended to impose upon the people; OF MlllABEAU. 107 but the people were not to be so imposed upon, for confidence is always destroyed by forced and evidently hypocritical language. The unsettled state of the country, the massa- cres which had disgraced the metropolis and were extending to the provinces, induced several deputies to propose an address from the national assembly to the people. After the success of my first, I considered addresses as belonging to my peculiar department, and I wrote one which was a species of political sermon. It was at first ap- plauded, but ultimately rejected. I know not whether it thwarted the views of certain per- sons ; be that as it may was much praised but not accepted. It was afterwards printed in the Courrier de Provence* Whether this address were adopted or not would have made not the slightest diflference. Insurrections are not to be ar- rested by words ; and if, under such circumstances, an exhortation ever succeeds, it is only when used as a preamble to force. So fearful were the assembly of offending the people, that motions tending to the repression of disorder, and the censure of popular excesses,. Vide Appendix, No. 2. 108 RECOLLECTIONS were almost deemed snares. Mistrust was still in every bosom. The assembly had triumphed by means of the people, towards whom, there- fore, they could not display great rigour ; and it is a notorious fact, that although they often stated in their preambles how severely they were afflicted and irritated at the violent excesses com- mitted by the brigands, who burned chateaus and insulted the nobility — they secretly rejoiced, in reality, at the existence of a terror which they conceived salutary. They had placed themselves between the alternatives of fearing the nobles, or being feared by them. They censured to save appearances, but policy prevented them from punishing; they paid compliments to authority, but gave encouragement to licenciousness. Res- pect for the executive was with them a mere for- mula of style ; so much so, that when the King's ministers came and manifested their weakness, and revealed their direful anticipations, the assem- bly remembering their own late fears, were not sorry that fear had changed sides. ** If you were powerful enough to be feared by the people, you would be sufficiently so to be feared by us !" Such was the feeling prevalent among what was called the cote gauche. It was the reaction of fear. OF MIRABEAU. 109 I must not omit that, at this period, the general opinion not only in France, but thoughout Eu- rope, was in favour of the democratic party in the assembly. A feeling of satisfaction was generally entertained at a revolution, which had overthrown the ancient government of France. It may be said, with truth, that throughout Europe, all who were not patricians, had trembled for the fate of the commons, and considered their delivery as a service rendered to the human race in general. It was the cause of mankind against the powers usurped by the exclusive and privi- leged classes. The unhappy events which debased the revolution, throw at the present day a sinister shade even upon its very cradle. We are ashamed of having admired, at its birth, a cause which, during its progress, we were forced to abhor. But let the impartial historian recollect, that when the French revolution first broke out, there was a general excitement, a sort of intoxication of hope ; and that the enthusiasm raised by the grandeur of the object, generated a degree of insensibility to its first excesses, which were considered merely as unfortunate accidents occurring during the ce- lebration of a national triumph. Surely, every part of a ruined and antiquated edifice could not fall to 110 RECOLLECTIONS the ground without crushing some of the mistaken individuals who persevered in their endeavours to prop it up. Such was the opinion of the mas- ter minds of Europe, of the soundest philoso- phers, the greatest philantrophists, and the dearest friends of freedom. If it were an error, it was a universal one. England, as the noblest and most free, declared her opinions in a more decided man- ner than other states ; and in that kingdom, the news of the fall of the Bastille was received with the most joyful acclamations. If the British go- vernment did not allow that event to be repre- sented on the stage, it was only from personal respect for the King of France. The whole nation felt the strongest sympathy towards the French people, with whom they sincerely rejoiced at the overthrow of despotism. This enthusiasm was maintained almost throughout the existence of the first national assembly. It diminished after the events of the 5th and 6th of October. Many admirers cooled in their praise, and many influential men began to think that the French people were treating with too great indignity, a King who had done so much for them ; and to fear that the national character was too impetuous, and too violent for OF MIIIABEAU. Ill the rational enjoyment of freedom. So small however, was the number of individuals who dis- approved, that their opinion made but a slight impression. The first decisive blow struck at the enthusiasm in favour of the revolution, was that famous production of Burke's, in which alone he grappled with the gigantic strength of the assembly, and represented these new legisla- tors, in the full enjoyment of power and honors, as so many maniacs who could destroy, but were unable to replace. This work, resplendent with genius and eloquence, though written in an age when imagination is on the decline, led to the formation of two parties in England. How- ever the arguments of Burke may seem to have been justified by posterior events, it yet remains to be shown, that the war cry then raised against France, did not greatly contribute to the violence which characterised that period. It is possible, that had he merely roused the attention of the governments and wealthy classes, to the dangers of this new political creed, he might have proved the saviour of Europe ; but he made such exag- gerated statements, and used arguments so alarm- ing to freedom, that on many points, he was not only plausibly, but victoriously refuted. Be 112 RECOLLECTIONS that as it may, this publication of Burke's, which was a manifesto against the assembly, had prodi- gious success in England. The Germans, who more than any other people, had winced under the yoke of the nobles, persevered in their admi- ration of the French legislators. The united national assembly commenced their proceedings with the famous declaration on the rights of man. The idea was American, and there was scarcely a member who did not con- sider such a declaration, an indispensable pre- liminary. I well remember the long debate on the subject, which lasted several weeks, as a period of mortal ennui. There were silly disputes about words, much metaphysical trash, and dread- fully tedious prosing. The assembly had con- verted itself into a Sorbonne, and each apprentice in the art of legislation, was trying his yet un- fledged wings upon these puerilities. After the rejection of several models, a committee of five members was appointed to present a new one. Mirabeau, one of the five, undertook the work with his usual generosity, but imposed its ex- ecution upon his friends. He set about the task ; and there were he, Duroverai, Clavi^re, and I, writing, disputing, adding, striking out, and ex- or MIllABEAU. 113 hausting both time and patience, upon this ri- diculous subject. At length, we produced our piece of patchwork, our mosaic of pretended natural rights which never existed. During the progress of this stupid compilation, I made some reflections, which had never occurred to me before. 1 felt the inconsistency and ridicule of a work which was only a puerile fiction. A de- claration of rights could be made only after the framing of the constitution and as one of its con- sequences ; for rights exist in virtue of laws and do not therefore precede them. The maxims sanctioned by this declaration ; that is to say, the principles intended to be established by it, are dangerous in themselves ; for legislators should not be tied down to general pro- positions which they are afterwards obliged to alter or modify ; — above all they must not be cramped by false maxims. Men are born free and equal! that is not true. They are not born free; on the contrary, they are born in a state of weakness and necessary dependence. Equal ! how are they so ? or how can they be so ? if by equality is understood equahty of fortune, of talents, of virtue, of industry, or of rank, then the falsehood is manifest. It would require I 114 RECOLLECTIONS volumes of argument to give any reasonable meaning to that equality proclaimed without exception. In a word, my opinion against the declaration of the rights of man was so strongly formed, that this time it influenced that of our little committee. Even INIirabeau himself, on presenting the project, ventured to make some objections to it, and proposed to defer the decla- ration of rights until the constitution should be completed. " I can safely predict," said he, in his bold and energetic style, " that any declara- tion of rights anterior to the constitution, loill prove but the almanack of a single year r Mirabeau, generally satisfied with a happy turn of expression, never gave himself the trouble of studying a subject sufficiently to be able to dis- cuss it, and patiently maintain the opinion he had advanced. He seized every thing with mar- vellous facility, but developed nothing. He wanted the practice of refutation. This great art, so indispensable to a political orator, was un- known to him. His opinion on the declaration surprised the assembly, because, when the ques- tion was previously discussed, he had argued in favor of its necessity. The most violent re- proaches were addressed to him at this sudden OF MIR ABE AU. 115 change of sentiment. " What manner of man is this," cried some one, " who uses his ascen- dency here to make the assembly adopt by turns both sides of a question ? Shall we condescend to be the sport of his perpetual tergiversation ?" Mirabeau had on this occasion so many good reasons to urge in favor of his proposition, that he would no doubt have triumphed had he known how to make use of them, but he withdrew his motion at the instant when several deputies had come over to his way of thinking. The eternal babble had then full range, and at last gave birth to the unfortunate declaration of the rights of man. I have now a complete refutation of it, clause by clause, from the pen of a great master, who has exposed, in the clearest manner, the con- tradictions, absurdities and dangers of this pro- gram of sedition, which alone proved sufficient to overthrow the constitution of which it formed part. It may be compared to a powder magazine placed under an edifice which it might overthrow by an explosion arising from the minutest spark*. But if the assembly wasted much time in dis- cussions on the rights of man, this was amply * Vide Tactique des Assemblees deliberantes, vol. 2. 1 2 116 RECOLLECTIONS compensated in the nocturnal sitting of the 4th of August. Never was so much work done in so short a space of time. That which would have required twelve months of careful examination, was proposed, discussed, put to the vote, and passed by general acclamation. I know not how many laws were decreed ; — the abolition of feudal rights, tithes, and provincial privileges — three questions embracing a whole system of jurispru- dence and politics — were, with ten or twelve others, disposed of in less time than the English parlia- ment would decide upon thefirst reading of any bill of ordinary importance. The assembly resembled a dying man who had made his will in a hurry ; or to speak more plainly, each member gave away what did not belong to him, and prided himself upon his generosity at the expense of others. I was present at this extraordinary and un- expected scene, which occurred on a day when Sieyes, Mirabeau and several other leading de- puties were absent. The proceedings commenced with a report on the excesses in the provinces, the burning of chateaus, and the bands of banditti who attacked the nobles and laid waste the country. Tiie Dukes of Aiguillon and Noailles and several OF MIRABEAU. 117 other members of the minority of the nobles, after a vivid picture of these disasters, de- clared that it w^as by an act of great generosity only that tranquillity and confidence could be restored; that it was, therefore, time to forego odious privileges and make the people feel the benefits of the revolution. It is impossible to de- scribe the effervescence which burst forth in the assembly at this declaration. There was no longer calmness or reflection. Each came forward with a sacrifice — each laid a fresh offering upon the altar of his country — each despoiled himself or despoiled others. There was no time taken for consideration or objection ; a sentimental contagion seemed to drag every heart into one general torrent. This renunciation of all privi- leges — this abandonment of so many rights bur- thensome to the people — these multiplied sacri- fices, bore a stamp of magnanimity which covered with its splendor the indecorous haste and preci- pitation with which they were made. On this night 1 saw good and brave deputies shed tears of joy on perceiving their work of political re- generation advance so rapidly, and on finding themselves borne on the wings of enthusiasm even beyond their most sanguine hopes. It 118 RECOLLECTIONS is true that all were not actuated by the same feeling. He who found himself ruined by a proposition unanimously agreed to, moved ano- ther from spite, and because he would not suffer alone. But the assembly were not in the secret of the principal movers of these measures, and the latter took advantage of the general enthusiasm to carry their point. The reinni- ciation of the provincial privileges was made by the deputies of the respective provinces. The deputies from Brittany, who had promised to maintain theirs, were much more embarrassed; but they came forward in a body and de- clared that they would exert their utmost in- fluence with their constituents to obtain a rati- fication of this abandonment of their privileges. This great and magnanimous measure was ne- cessary to restore political unity in a kingdom formed by a successive aggregation of several smaller states, each of which had preserved cer- tain antiquated rights and particular privileges which it was now necessary to destroy, in order to form a social body susceptible of receiving one general constitution. The following day brought reflection, and with it discontent. Mirabeau and Sieyes, each. OF MIRABEAU. 119 however, from personal motives, very strongly re- probated the madness of such enthusiasm. " This is just the character of our Frenchmen," said the former, " they are three months disputing about syllables, and in a single night they overturn the whole venerable edifice of the monarchy." Sieyes was more annoyed at the abolition of tithes than at all the rest. It was hoped that in a subsequent sitting the most imprudent clauses of these precipitate decrees might be amended ; but it was not easy to recall concessions which the people already looked upon as an indispu- table right. Sieyes made a speech full of force and logic, in which he showed that to abolish tithes without an indemnity, was spoliating the clergy to enrich the land owners ; for each having purchased his property with the burthen of tithes upon it, would on a sudden find himself richer by one tenth part, which would be a gratuitous present. This speech, impossible to be refuted, he concluded with the famous saying : " They would be free, and know not how to be just!" . . . The prejudice was so strong that even Sieyes was not listened to. He was looked upon as an ecclesiastic unable to forego his personal in- terest, and who was paying the tribute of error ] 20 RECOLLECTIONS to his profession. A little more, and he would have been hooted and hissed. I beheld him next day full of bitter resentment and profound indig- nation against the injustice and folly of the as- sembly, whom he never pardoned. He gave vent to his irritated feelings in a conversation with Mirabeau, when the latter said to him : " My dear Abb^, you have let loose the bull and you now complain that he gores you !" These two men had always a very contemptible opinion of the national assembly. They were well qualified to appreciate its faults, yet neither of them granted it his esteem but on condition that his own opinion should always prevail. If either was applauded, he discovered that the majority had good sense when left to their own judgment ; if either received marks of disapprobation, he then discovered that the assembly was com- posed of fools under the influence of a few sedi- tious members. I have often seen Mirabeau gra- duate his opinion by this scale ; and assuredly he was not the only one. The contempt of Sieyes might have been thought sincere, because he did not lay himself out for applause, and always pre- served a disdainful silence ; but Mirabeau was infected with tlie speaking mania, and no one OF MIRABEAU. 121 could for a moment believe that he was indiffe- rent to applause. Both felt that a single legisla- tive assembly was insufficient, because there was nothing to control it ; and the occurrences of the 4th of August proved to what extent the conta- gion of enthusiasm and eloquence could in- fluence its proceedings, and make it adopt the most absurd measures. Far from putting a stop to violence and brigandage, the decrees of the 4th of August showed the people their strength, and convinced them that the most monstrous attacks upon the nobility would be overlooked, if they did not even elicit a recompense. I repeat, that what is granted through fear, never satisfies ; and they whom you think your concessions will disarm, acquire tenfold confidence and audacity. 122 RECOLLECTIONS CHAPTER VIII. Soon after the discussion on the decrees of the 4th of August, constitutional questions were introduced, and one of the most important was that of the veto. It must not be supposed that this subject underwent a regular debate similar to those in the English House of Commons. A list of speakers for and against was made out ; each appeared, manuscript in hand, and read a dissertation unconnected with anything that had been urged by preceding orators. I can imagine nothing more disgustingly tedious than this species of academic lecture, — the reading of those heavy pamphlets, teeming with repe- titions and devoid of any continued chain of argu- OF MIRABEAU. 123 ment. The form of a debate, in which each speaks either to reply or attack, stimulates all the fa- culties and keeps up the attention ; but those prepared speeches refuted objections which had never been urged, and did not refute those which had been urged. The proceedings were always in the same stage ; each speaker opened the question, as if no other had preceded him, and nothing but the fanaticism attendant upon public events could have resisted the mortal ennui of these sittings. JNIirabeau determined to sup- port the absolute veto, considered of vital import- ance to the monarchy ; but with regard to the manner of treating this question, he placed him- self under the tuition of the Marquis de Ca- seaux, author of an unintelligible book on the mechanism of human societies, and of another en- titled " Simplicity of the Idea of a Constitution," which no one had been able to read or understand. I believe that, for once, Mirabeau was not sorry to proceed without us; he therefore concealed from us his alliance with his apocalyptic friend, and merely informed us that he was prepared, and had made a few notes, which he should develope in the tribune. After being forced to listen to so many execrable speeches, Mirabeau's appearance 124 RECOLLECTIONS in the tribune delighted every body ; but scarcely had he begun when I recognized the style and doctrines of Caseaux. The embarrassed con- structions, the singularity of the words, the lengthy periods, and the obscurity of the rea- soning, soon cooled the attention of the assembly. It was at length made out that he supported the absolute veto, and this excited much disap- probation. Mirabeau, who had scarcely looked at this trash before he left home, threw him- self immediately into digressions, inveighed against despotism, and by some smart things, which he had always at command, obtained the applause of the galleries ; but the moment he reverted to his fatal manuscript, the tumult again commenced, and he had much difficulty in getting to the end of his speech, although on such occasions his courage never deserted him. By supporting the absolute veto, Mirabeau gave great offence to the popular party ; but his speech was so obscure, that the galleries never discovered what side of the question he had taken ; and the Palais Royal, who were in a frenzy against the supporters of the absolute veto, did not cease to consider INIirabeau as one of its most zealous opponents. Tliat which OF MIRABEAU. 125 would have destroyed the popularity of any other, seemed to have no power over his. The c6te gauche thought he had affected obscurity on this occasion in order to be able to turn to any side of the question; so that the non- sense of Caseaux was imputed to a profound politician, and pure machiavelism was traced in every part of a writing which no one could understand. I never saw INIirabeau out of countenance but this once. He confessed to me, that as he proceeded with the manuscript, which he had not before read, he felt himself in a cold perspiration ; and that he had omitted one half of it without being able to substitute any thing in its stead, having, in his over- weening confidence in Caseaux, neglected to study the subject. We corrected this speech a little before we published it in the Coui^rier de Provence ; but its original fantastic style and obscurity could not be entirely effaced. It is thus the most important matters in legis- lation were treated; e.v ungue leonem. This was the first constitutional question in which the people took a strong interest ; and it may be readily supposed that it was one which they little understood. The veto, in their eyes, 126 RECOLLECTIONS assumed every possible form — it was a monster that would devour them all. I shall never forget, that in going to Paris with Mirabeau, either on that day or the next, there were many people congregated on the outside of INIadame le Jay's shop, waiting for him. They ran to him and conjured him, with tears in their eyes, not to suffer the King to have the absolute veto. " Mon- sieur le Comte, you are the father of the people ! You must save us, you must defend us against those who want to deliver us up to despotism. If the King is to have the veto, there will be no fur- ther occasion for a national assembly ; all will be lost and we shall be slaves !" A thousand such absurdities were uttered, and all proceeded from the most earnest dread of a thing they had not the slightest idea of. On these occasions Mira- beau always displayed great dignity and conde- scension ; he managed to appease them with vague answers, and dismissed them with a polite- ness somewhat patrician. Mirabeau did not vote upon the question, and that is the reason why he was not upon the list, taken to the Palais Royal, of those who had supported the absolute veto. Surely this conduct was pusillanimous, but he covered it OF MIRABEAU. 127 with the mask of his pretended contempt for the assembly. The proceedings on this ques- tion proved the absurdity of voting separately upon constitutional laws ; for it is evident that they must be compared with each other to try whether they perfectly coincide. The law which might be good when combined with some other, might produce a pernicious effect if taken alone. Nothing but presumption and inexpe- rience could have induced the national assembly to proceed in any other way, and daily issue unconnected constitutional decrees, without having previously determined upon the plan of a consti- tution, so as to have a whole before them. In the veto, for instance ; — before they decided upon the question, they should have determined whether the legislature were to consist of two chambers or of only one. The settlement of the latter point was an indisjDcnsable preliminary ; for if the legislature were not divided, the absolute veto became positively necessary to prevent the single chamber from usurping the supreme power. At the same time, the King would have been too weak to exercise the absolute veto against the strong and unanimous wish of the national assembly. It would not be good policy in a 128 RECOLLECTIONS sovereign, under such circumstances, to oppose the wish of the whole nation. If the legislature were divided into two sections, then the absolute veto would become less necessary, because there was not even a probability that the two sections would go hand in hand upon every question. One might, therefore, oppose the other. Thus the decision of one question depending upon another, both ought to be considered in coming to a conclusion. The greatest fault the assembly com- mitted, was to work upon detached parts ; for thus it is that an irregular edifice was con- structed, without proportion or correctness. Some parts were too strong, others too weak. There were incoherent masses which could not sus- tain the slightest shock, a gigantic elevation, and foundations which gave way under the weight of the fabric. But these defects ori- ginated in an extreme ambition to shine, and in an eager anxiety, in making a motion, to anticipate that of some other member. There was nothing concerted, nothing prepared. Each delighted in pilfering the propositions of another, in smuggling in an article out of its place, and in surprising the assembly by something unexpected. A con- stitution-committee had been appointed, whose or .MIRABEAU. 129. members, a prey to jealousy and strife, could come to no understanding, nor direct their la- bours to a common object. It was a miniature likeness of the assembly ; composed of the same elements, the same prejudices, the same desire of shining exclusively, and the same struggle of self-love. Each, in short, took upon himself to introduce matters according to his own judgment, and often for no earthly reason but to be before- hand with the others. Study and meditation were foreign to the habits of the assembly ; its decrees were passed almost at the sword's point, and the most fiery passions had neither truce nor interval. After overthrowing every exist- ing institution, all must be reconstructed at once ; and so high an opinion had the deputies of their own powers, that they would willingly have undertaken to frame a code for all nations. Historians will say enough about the misfortunes of the revolution, but it would be not less es- sential to denounce the primitive faults which led to these misfortunes ; — and, to go still further back, — the composition of the assembly ought to be examined, more particularly the circumstances in wliich originated the mistrust, the struggle be- K 130 RECOLLECTIONS tween the orders, the victory of the commons, and the degredation of the royal authority. The most leading trait in the French character is self-vanity. Each member of the assembly thought himself equal to any undertaking. Never were so many men seen congregated together, who fancied themselves legislators, capable of re- pairing the faults of the past, finding a remedy for all the errors of the human mind, and se- curing the happiness of future generations. Doubt of their own powers never once found its way into their bosoms, and infallibility always pre- sided over their decisions. In vain did a strong minority accuse them, and protest against their measures ; the more they were attacked, the more were they satisfied with their own transcendent wisdom. When the King presumed to transmit to them some mild remonstrances upon the de- crees of the 4th of August, and the declara- tion of rights, they were surprised that ministers should dare to criticize their proceedings, and M. Necker, who was the author of the criticisms, began from that moment to lose his influence among them. I have been able to compare the English and French of the same rank in life, and I have OF MIRABKAU. 131 attended assiduously the sittings of the English parliament and those of the national assembly. There is no point of opposition in the character of the two nations more striking than the reserve, approaching timidity, of the Englishman, and the confidence in himself displayed by the French- man. I often used to think that if a hundred persons indiscriminately were stopped in the streets of London, and the same number in the streets of Paris, and a proposal made to each individual to undertake the government of his country, ninety-nine would accept the offer at Paris, and ninety-nine refuse it in London. Few of the speeches made in the assembly were written by the parties who uttered them. A Frenchman made no scruple of using the com- position of another, and acquiring honor by a species of public imposture. No Englishman of character would consent to play such a part. A Frenchman would put himself forward and make any motion suggested to him, without once trou- bling himself about the consequences ; an English- man, on the other hand, would be afraid of ex- posing himself, if he had not studied his subject sufficiently to be able to answer every reasonable objection, and support the opinion he had ad- K 2 132 RECOLLECTIONS vanced. A Frenchman affirms upon very light grounds ; an assertion costs him nothing ; — an Englishman is in no haste to believe, and before he publicly avers a fact, he traces it to its source, weighs authorities, and makes himself master of particulars. A Frenchman believes that with a little wit he can stem a torrent of difficulties. He is ready to undertake things most foreign to his habits and studies, and it was thus that Mirabeau got himself appointed re- porter to the Committee of Mines, without having the slightest knowledge concerning mines. An Englishman would expose himself to eternal ridi- cule if he dared invade a department of which he knew nothing ; and he is more disposed to refuse undertaking that which he is able to perform, than to be ambitious of doing what he knows to . be beyond his powers. The Frenchman believes that wit supplies the place of every thing; the Englishman is persuaded that nothing can be pro- perly done without both knowledge and practice. A French gentleman being asked if he could play upon the harpsichord, replied, " I do not know, for I never tried ; but I will go and see." Now this is badinage^ but make it serious ; — for harpsichord substitute government, and for music, legislation, OF MIRABEAU. 133 and, instead of one French gentleman, you would find twelve hundred. Romilly had written a very interesting work upon the regulations observed in the English House of Commons. These regulations are the fruit of long and closely-reasoned experience ; and the more they are examined, the more worthy are they found of admiration. They are rigorously enforced in an assembly extremely jealous of innovation ; and as they are not written, it cost much pains and labour to collect them. This little code indicated the best manner of putting questions, preparing motions, discussing them, telling the votes, appointing committees, — of carrying on, in short, all the proceedings of a political assembly. At the commencement of the meeting of the States-general, I translated this work. Mirabeau presented and deposited it upon the bureau of the commons, at the time when it was in contemplation to draw up a set of regu- lations for the national assembly. " We are not English, and we want nothing English !" was the reply. This translation of Romilly 's work, al- though printed, was not taken the least notice of ; nor did any member ever condescend to inquire how matters were conducted in so celebrated an 134 RECOLLECTIONS assembly as the British parliament. The national vanity was wounded at the idea of borrowing the wisdom of any other people, and the French de- puties preferred maintaining their own defective and dangerous mode of conducting their proceed- ings, of which the sitting of the 4th of August was a painful illustration. When Brissot talked about constitution, his familiar phrase was, " That is what lost Eng- land." Sieyes, Dupont, Condorcet, and many others with whom I was acquainted, were pre- cisely of the same way of thinking. " How !" once replied Duroverai, feigning astonishment, " is England lost ? when did you receive the news, and in what latitude was she lost ?" The laugh was against Brissot; and Mirabeau, who was then writing one of his speeches against Mounier, attributed to the latter Brissot's stupid saying, in order to have the pleasure of making him the object of Duroverai's bon-mot. Mounier complained of this in his first pamphlet, wherein he points out Mirabeau's mistatements relative to a sitting of which he professed to give a faithful account. OF MIRABEAU. 135 CHAPTER IX. I HAVE not many recollections of the month of September. During that period I met at Mi- rabeau's two men of very different characters. The first was Camille Desmoulins, who had signed several of his writings as the attorney-general of the lantern. It must not, however, be imagined that he excited the people to use the lantern posts in the stead of gallows, an abomination attributed to him by M. Bertrand de IMoUeville; — quite the reverse, he pointed out the danger and injustice of such summary executions, but in a tone of lightness and badinage by no means in keeping with so serious a subject. Camille appeared to me what is called a good fellow ; of rather exag- gerated feelings, devoid of reflection or judgment. 136 RECOLLECTIONS as ignorant as he was unthinking, not deficient in wit, but in politics possessing not even the first elements of reason. Walking with him one day, I gave him some explanations on the constitution of England, of which he had been talking with the most profound ignorance of the subject. Three years afterwards, Camille, who had become a great man, by means of his jacobinism and his intimacy with Robespierre, and had cultivated his talents, wrote a work, in which, giving an account of his own life since the beginning of the revolution, he condescended, en passant, to give me a kindly recollection, by representing me as an emissary of Pitt placed near INIirabeau to mislead him, and as preaching the English constitution at Ver- sailles. I never read this work, but have been told that it was clever, Camille being one of those whom circumstances have led to acquire talents. The other person whom I met at JNIirabeau's was La Clos, the author of the Liaisons Dan- gereuses. This individual, belonging to the house- hold of the Duke of Orleans, was witty though sombre, taciturn and reserved ; with the face and look of a conspirator, he was so cold and distant, that although I met him several times, I scarcely OF MIRABEAU. 137 ever spoke to him. I knew not his object in visiting INIirabeau. The events of the 5th and 6th of October have been attributed to the Duke of Orleans, and INIirabeau was implicated in the conspiracy. The national assembly decreed that there was no ground of accusation against either. But the acquittal of the assembly is not the ver- dict of history, and many doubts require still to be solved before a correct judgment can be formed. Notwithstanding my intimacy with Mirabeau at this period, he never let me into the secret of his having formed any connection with the Duke of Orleans. If such be the fact, I am not aware of it. In my recollections of the most minute circumstances which could not fail to betray a man so confiding and imprudent as Mirabeau, I find not the slightest ground for supposing him an accomplice in the project against the court. It is true, nevertheless, that his intimacy with La Clos might indicate some intention on the part of the Duke to negociate with him for his services. JNIu'abeau sometimes visited JNIontrouge, and once or twice, I believe, met the Duke there ; but it cannot thence be in- ferred that they conspired together. I remem- ber hearing him speak somewhat favourably 138 RECOLLECTIONS of this prince, that is to say of his natural talents ; for in morals he said that nothing must be im- puted to the Duke, who had lost his taste, and could not therefore distinguish good from evil. About the same time, Mirabeau said to Duroverai and me, " I am quite astonished at finding myself a philosopher, because I was born to be an adven- turer. But, who knows ? They are going to. tear the kingdom to pieces; I have some interest in Provence . . . ." Duroverai interrupted him with a laugh. " Ah ! he already thinks himself Count of Provence." — " Well," replied Mirabeau, " many have risen from smaller beginnings." All this was but the result of high animal spirits, and his fervent imagination anticipated nothing but ruin and overthrow. The only circumstance I know to his disad- vantage, was his preparing a work which he concealed from us. When the assembly quitted Versailles to meet at Paris, Duroverai and I having called at Mirabeau's, who was already gone, to collect some papers which concerned us jointly, Le Jay arrived in a travelling dress, and had a van at the door. He seemed much agi- tated, and had some difficulty in making us com- prehend the cause. He had been somewhere OF MIRABEAU. 139 to fetch the edition of a book which had been printed clandestinely, ought to have arrived a week sooner, and which he was now afraid of taking to Paris. " What edition ? What book ? What is it about?"— " Why," replied Le Jay, " it is the book against royalty." — " Against royalty, pray bring us a copy." It was a small volume, with a preface by Mirabeau, and the name of the author. I do not remember the precise title, but I think it was " On Royalty^ eMracted from Milton.''' It was an abridgement or translation from JNIilton. Detached passages had been united, and a complete body of doc- trine formed from the republican writings of the great English poet. I recollect seeing JNIirabeau occupied about this translation with his friend Servan, governor of the pages, who, like all the inhabitants of \"ersailles, was hostile to the court. Servan was afterwards minister of war. After the events of the 5th and 6th of October, such a publication by a member of the national assembly was not only a libel, but an act of high treason. We were the more annoyed at this conduct, be- cause the first suspicions of those who frequented jNIirabeau would have fallen upon us, as being naturally inclined to republicanism, and being, 140 RECOLLECTIONS moreover, familiar with the English language. But independently of our own feelings, Mirabeau's situation was calculated to alarm us dreadfully. Duroverai put Le Jay into such a fright that he already fancied himself in the Chatelet or La Tournelle. He consented to every thing we pro- posed and we brought the whole edition into the house and burned it the same day. Le Jay saved about a dozen copies. This expedition over, he returned to Paris, and gave an account to his wife of the dangers he had incun-ed, together with the manner in which we had got him out of the scrape. Madame le Jay, who had placed great dependence upon this libel, fell upon the poor husband, called him a fool, and made him feel at the same time her double superiority in strength and intelligence. She next went to Mirabeau, and denounced Duroverai ; but Mira- beau had too much sense not to perceive that the book would have proved his ruin, had it been published. All he wanted was to keep it in re- serve against a future favorable opportunity ; but he had behaved too ill in the business to dare to reproach us with the loss of a few thousand francs. I confess, that on reflecting afterwards upon this affair, the time at which it occurred — the OF MIRABEAU. 141 delay of the edition, and the week earlier when it ought to have arrived — Le Jay's journey to fetch it, and the secrecy which he was enjoined to preserve — I have been sometimes tempted to think that the work was associated with some important event, and that INIirabeau was in the secret of the occurrences of the 5th and 6th of October. But, on the other hand, I know that this compilation was begun long before, and that Mirabeau's rage for publishing was so great that it often got the better of all prudential considerations. The best conclusion at which I can arrive, after deliberate- ly weighing every circumstance, is that, taking it for granted that the insurrection at Versailles was conducted by the Duke of Orleans, La Clos was too able a tactitian to place the whole affair at Mirabeau's discretion, but had engaged him con- ditionally, with only a partial confidence, and left a wide loop-hole to creep out at. It is impossible not to think that there was some connexion be- tween them. " Instead of a glass of brandy, a bottle was given." This is the figure by which Mirabeau explained the movement of Paris upon Versailles. I presume, that if the King had fled, Mirabeau would have proclaimed the Duke of Orleans lieutenant-general of the kingdom, and 142 RECOLLECTIONS have become his prime minister. Such a scheme might easily find place in a brain like Mira- beau's, and his subsequent anger against the Duke of Orleans might warrant the idea that he had been deceived in his expectations. M. de Lafayette is perhaps acquainted with the secret of these events, originating, perhaps, in the spon- taneous rising of the people, excited by a dread of famine which had, for the time being, produced a real famine. I was at Versailles, and saw part of what passed. But I know nothing in particular, neither did I discover any thing that could cha- racterise either a settled plan or a conspiracy. I can even say that when the event occurred, it was not explained in the same manner as it has since been. The people attributed the dearth to the aristocracy. The aristocrats, they said, destroyed the corn before it reached maturity, paid the bakers not to work, suspended trade, and threw the flour into the rivers ; — in short, there was no absurdity too gross to appear improbable. The popular journals did not cease to circulate the grossest falsehoods. The arrival of a new regiment at Versailles had renewed the public alarm. The f^te which had been given at the OF MIRABEAU. 143 palace to the officers, was inconceivably im- prudent. It could not be termed a con- spiracy, because people do not conspire at a public banquet of five hundred persons ; but several anti-popular songs were sung, the na- tional cockade insulted, the infant Dauphin led about, and the King and Queen, yielding to the enjoyment of these testimonies of affection, in- creased, by their presence, the general enthu- siasm. At any other period, it would not have been imputed as a crime, that the young officers of the King's guard should become animated at a banquet, and display their affection for the royal family. The cloud which hung over this un- happy family, and the misfortunes which threat- ened them, were a fresh stimulus to the feelings of chivalrous honor which pervaded the bosoms of these young nobles, devoted by profession to the defence of their sovereign. But when the particulars of this banquet were made public, with every possible exaggeration, it was con- strued into an intention of rendering the revo- lution odious, and of forming a fresh league for the King's defence ; — it was therefore denounced in the assembly as evidence of a court conspiracy 144 RECOLLECTIONS against the people. The ctte. droit was furious, and inveighed against the calumny. Mirabeau, whom Servan had excited, threw himself into the midst of the tumult and declared that he was ready to name the principal author of the impious fete, provided it were decreed beforehand that the King's person was sacred and inviolable. This single expression, which cast a direct accusation upon the Queen, threw the c6tt droit into con- sternation, and made the democrats themselves fear they had gone too far. If, on this occasion, JMirabeau had adopted the most generous line of policy, and opposed the popular rage, it would have been easy to give another colour to this circumstance, and place those testimonies of affection for the King in a favourable point of view. He might have openly complained of its being supposed that the entire assembly did not participate in these marks of affection, and have proposed a similar fete at which the King should appear surrounded by all the representatives of France. He might, at the same time, have asked for the removal of the regiment of Flanders, whose presence was un- necessary. But it must be admitted that this OF MIRABEAU. 145 assembly, though very prodigal of their ex- pressions of attachment to the King, had never yet shown it by any tangible act. The dearth which kept the people in a state of effervescence, and the banquet scene at the chateau, appeared, at the time, sufficient to account for the insurrection at Paris, and the invasion of Versailles. It was not till afterwards that a plot was imagined and attributed to the Duke of Orleans. This suspicion acquired consistency when it was known that M. de I^afayette had insisted upon the Duke leaving Paris, and proceeding to England. The secret of this intrigue has never transpired, but I recollect that two years after, in a confidential conversation with M. de Talley- rand, bishop of Autun, that prelate uttered these remarkable words : " The Duke of Orleans is the slop-pail into which is thrown all the Jilth of the revolution !" The following, so far as my recollection serves me, was Mirabeau's conduct during these two days. On the fifth, we dined with M. Servan, in the Palace called les Petites-Ecuries, in which, as governor of the pages, he had apartments. We could see from the windows opening upon the L 146 RECOLLECTIONS great square, the arrival of the Parisian mul- titudes, including the poissardes or fish-women, and the market porters. This crowd demanded nothing but bread. The regiment of Flanders and the national guard were drawn up outside the external enclosure of the chateau. The King's guards, both cavalry and infantry, were formed within the great and lesser courts. There was a tumultuous movement among the crowd, the cause of which we could not well distinguish. Mirabeau was not long with us ; nay, I have an idea that he did not stay to dinner. Though the crowd was great, and there was no knowing what might happen, we walked about everywhere. We saw the King's carriages go off through un- frequented streets, and thought they were con- veying the royal family to a place of safety. Tired of wandering, I went to the assembly at about eight o'clock in the evening. The hall presented a curious spectacle. It had been in- vaded by the people from Paris, and was quite full of them. The galleries were crowded with women and men armed with halberts, bludgeons, and pikes. The sitting was suspended, but a message came from the King, calling upon the President to resume it, and send a de- OF MIRABEAU. 147 putation to the chateau. I went to Mirabeau, whom I found in bed, although it was not yet eleven o'clock. He rose, and we returned to the assembly. When we arrived, the President was exhausting his strength in a fruitless endeavour to obtain silence. Mirabeau immediately raised his voice, and called upon the President to make the assembly respected, and order the strangers in the hall to quit the members' benches, which they had invaded. It required all Mirabeau's po- pularity to succeed. By degrees the populace with- drew, and the deputies began to discuss some clauses of the penal code. In the gallery in which I was sitting, there was a poissarde who assumed superior authority, and directed the motions of about a hundred women, awaiting her orders to make a noise or be silent. She called familiarly to the deputies, and said, " Who is speaking yonder ? JSIake that babbler hold his tongue ! We do' not want his speechifying ; we want bread ! Let our little mother INIirabeau speak ; we should like to hear him !" Owr little mother Mirabeau became the cry of the whole band ; but INIirabeau was not a man to show off on such occasions, and his popularity never made him lose sight of his dignity. L 2 148 RECOLLECTIONS About midnight an aide-de-camp announced the arrival of M. de Lafayette at the head of the national guard of Paris, and every one now thought himself safe. The soldiers of the national guard had renewed their oath of fidelity to the law and the King, and the multitude, on being made acquainted with the King's promises, be- came calmer. About two in the morning we left the assembly, which was still sitting. On awak- ing some hours after, a confused account was given me of what had occurred; of the inva- sion of the chateau, and the disarming of the guards. These events were then attributed to misunderstandings, imprudences, and chance quarrels. JNIirabeau went early to the assembly, and I was informed that he opposed a compli- ance with the King's desire of removing the as- sembly to the chateau, as the only means of keep- ing the multitude in check. The pretended dig- nity which he put forward as a reason for send- ing only a deputation, certainly appeared sus- picious. Was that a time to consult etiquette? Was there a duty more imperious than that of forming a living rampart round the monarch in danger? Certain it is, that had a conspiracy against the King really existed, and Mirabeau been OF MIRABEAU. l49 an accomplice, lie could not have behaved other- wise than he did. But, on the other hand, how hap2)ened it, that the assembly, who surely were not in the plot, all so instantly concurred in his opinion ? This is a reason for believing that he had only taken advantage of the general feeling, and that his motion was not premeditated. There was, at this time, a marked opposition between the court and the national assembly, because the King had given but a half sanction to the declaration of the rights of man and the explanatory decrees of the 4th of August. The assembly was mean enough, on this occasion, to take advantage of the disorder, and call upon the King for his full and unqualified assent ; just as if his refusal had been one of the causes of the insurrection. jNlounier presided on that day ; — JNlirabeau was very jealous of him, and had, perhaps, no other motive, even without being conscious of it, than a desire to get the better of INIounier and injure him, by repre- senting his opinion as derogatory from the national dignity. I did not, at the time, make these re- flections, because, such was the rapidity of events, that one impression was soon effaced by another. Several deputies, against whom the fury of the 150 RECOLLECTIONS populace had been excited, took to flight ; and having no hope from a revolution effected by such means, they dared not return to Paris, but abandoned their post. Lally-Tolendal and Mou- nier were among the number. There were fifty- five or fifty-six. This desertion was not justifia- ble. But, on taking into consideration the vio- lence they had suffered, it would be but fair, prior to accusing them of cowardice, that we should ourselves have suffered, for a time, the same out- rages. I never met Mounier but once, and I was present at a conversation between him and Mira- beau, at the house of a painter. Mounier's ac- count of this conversation is quite correct. OF MIRABEAU. 151 CHAPTER X. I DID not before allude to Mirabeau's celebrated speech on the national bankruptcy, because I wished, under the same head, to add a few farther observations. Mirabeau was not well acquainted with the subject, although he had published several papers on it, such as *' The Bank of St. Charles^' " The Denunciation of Stock-Jobbing y' &c. But he had two able coadj utors in Panchaud and Clavi^re, the former of whom said, that Mirabeau was the first man in the world to speak on a question he knew nothing about. A ready conception, and the hap- piest expressions, enabled him easily to lead ar- tificial minds astray. AVhen, from the effects of the revolution, the public revenue was considera- bly diminished, and the taxes of scarcely any value, M. Necker, unable to keep in motion an 152 RECOLLECTIONS immense machine, whose moving power was al- most annihilated, proposed to the assembly, a loan, to which he had endeavoured to give a very seductive form. He wanted, for this purpose, to make use of the credit of the caisse d'escompte. Clavi^re, who, I believe, had some feeling of per- sonal hostility towards the company of the caisse d'escompte, engaged Mirabeau to oppose the mea- sure. The assembly attempted to organize the loan, and proceeded with as little intelligence as on many other occasions. The consequence was, that the measure was unsuccessful, and the na- tional credit, about which so much had been said, became worse than useless. M. Necker was soon after forced to present another project, a species of patriotic loan, somewhat resembling an income- tax. This time, Mirabeau determined to support the minister, to whom, however, he was per- sonally hostile. There had been no intercourse between them ; for the intimacy which Duroverai and Mallouet, had attempted to bring about, had failed. Some persons suspected that Mirabeau's support was given, in order to fix upon Necker the responsibility of the certain failure of the plan. Several stupid members, who thought that the assembly would be wanting in dignity, OF MIRABEAU. 153 if it adopted ministerial measures without alter- ing something in them, proposed several modifica- tions. JNIirabeau was of opinion, that the plan required no alteration, and eagerly pressed the assembly to adopt it as it was. His principal argument was, the ill success of the last project of loan, which the friends of the minister attri- buted to the assembly, who, by ill-judged modi- fications, had altered its nature. Thence pro- ceeding to remark upon the dangerous state of public credit, and the failure of the revenue, he represented a national bankruptcy, as the proba- ble consequence of the rejection of this plan. The force with which he presented so common- place a subject, was miraculous ; he elevated it to sublimity. They who heard this speech will never forget it ; it excited every gradation of terror ; and a devouring gulph, with the groans of the victims it swallowed, of which the orator gave a very appaling description, seemed pictured to the senses of the audience. The triumph was complete ; not an attempt was made to reply. The assembly were subjugated by that power of a superior and energetic mind, which acts upon the multitude as if it were only a single individual, and the project was adopted 154 RECOLLECTIONS without a dissenting voice. From that day, Mirabeau was considered a being superior to other men. He had no rival. There were, in- deed, other orators, but he alone was eloquent ; and this impression was stronger, because, in his speech on this question, he was obliged to depend entirely upon his own resources ; for it w^as an unexpected reply, and could not, therefore, have been prepared.* * This is the passage in Mirabeau's reply, to which M. Du- mont alludes : " If less solemn declarations did not insure our respect for public faith, and our horror of the infamous word bankruptcy, I would search into the secret motives, unknown perhaps to ourselves, which make us draw back at the very in- stant we are called upon to consummate a great sacrifice ; in- efficacious, it is true, unless it be sincere ; — and I would say to those who, from the fear of sacrifices and the dread of taxes, are perhaps familiarizing their minds with the idea of not keeping faith with the public creditor : — What is such a bankruptcy itself, but the most cruel, the most iniquitous, the most unequal, and the most ruinous of taxes ? — My friends, listen to a word — a single word ! — Two centuries of depredations and robbery, have dug the gulph into which the kingdom is about to fall. This horrible gulph must be filled up ! But how ? There is but one way. Here is a list of rich men in France. Choose from among the richest, in order that you may sacrifice fewer citizens ; — but choose, at all events, for must not the smaller number perish to save the great mass of the people ? Well ! These two thousand rich men, are possessed of sufficient wealth OF MIRABEAU. 155 ]Vf ol6 the celebrated actor at the Theatre Fran- cais, was present. The force and dramatic effect of JMirabeau's eloquence, and the sublimity of his voice, had made a deep impression upon this dis- tinguished comedian, who, with visible emotion, approached the orator to offer his compliments. " Ah ! Monsieur le Comte," said he in a pathetic tone of voice, " what a speech ! and with what an accent did you deliver it ! You have surely missed your vocation." M0I6 smiled on perceiv- ing the singularity of the compliment which his dramatic enthusiasm had led him to utter, but Mirabeau was much flattered by it. Some days after, in the beginning of October, the King being already at Paris, it was deter- mined to press this ministerial measure by an address from the national assembly to the nation. Mirabeau was requested to write this address, and he transferred the task to me. I undertook it with more readiness because I was still of opinion that a solemn address, supported by to make up the deficiency. Restore order to your finances — peace and prosperity to the country ; — strike, immolate your victims without pity ; precipitate them into the abyss, and it will close ! . . . . What, do you draw back horror-struck, ye in- consistent, ye pusillanimous men ? Well, then, do you not perceive, &c. &c." — No(e bij the Gcncvcse Editor. 156 RECOLLECTIONS authority, might yet serve as a vehicle for im- portant truths. I had no desire to palliate the excesses of the revolution, but wished, on the con- trary, to prove, in the strongest manner possible, that the nation would be lost if it were misled any longer by wrong notions of liberty, whose mask licentiousness had assumed to render her odious. This composition was not so rapid as the address to the King, because the subject was more complicated and delicate ; for great caution was requisite not to offend the assembly itself whose ears were irritable as those of a despot, and who took umbrage at the most indirect re- proach. I devoted three days to this work, which was well received, but produced upon the nation just about as much effect as a sermon upon a congregation. Scarcely had it been applauded when it was already forgotten. I found among my papers the original of this address almost in the same state as when I gave it to Mirabeau — there being only two or three slight alterations made by the committee appointed to draw it up.* Soon after this occurrence, Duroverai commu- nicated to me a proposal made him by M. De- * Vide Appendix, No. 3. OF MIR ABE AU. 157 lessert a banker of Paris, that we should accept a sum of money as a testimony of gratitude for the services we had rendered in supporting M. Necker's project ; for our influence over JMira- beau was well known ; and my contributions to several of his speeches, together with the share I had in framing the address to the nation, were at least suspected. M. Delessert spoke in the name of several bankers, and offered a hundred louis- d'or as his part of the subscription. Duroverai had neither accepted nor refused, but said he would mention the matter to me. I was very angry that he had not immediately declined the offer of these gentlemen, in the strongest terms, as he certainly would have done had it pre- ceded instead of following the service. We had not acted in the matter with any view to their ad- vantage — they, therefore, owed us nothing; and I could not but perceive in this pretended display of gratitude, a bribe in disguise. A gift which cannot be openly avowed and pub- licly proclaimed — a gift in short, that will not bear the light of day, stamps itself as illicit, and conveys a pledge of venality. The simple suspi- cion of personal interest appeared to me so dis- graceful, that Duroverai had much difficulty in 158 RECOLLECTIONS convincing me that there was no insult in M. Delessert's offer. The answer was dictated by these feelings ; — for it is clear that this was an at- tempt upon our delicacy, and not a very indirect one. I soon forgot the matter, and never took the trouble to mention it to M. Delessert. When the assembly was transferred to Paris, and met at the archbishop's palace, I prevailed upon Mirabeau to move a vote of thanks to M. Bailly and M. de Lafayfette, and I composed a speech for him in which I pointed out the diffi- culties which, amid the political hurricanes of the times, they had to encounter as public men. As he had always been envious of their popularity, this proposal displeased him at first ; but I well knew that he would not resist the temptation of being thought the author of a motion, written in a style that pleased him. The maire and command- ant of Paris were the more flattered at this, be- cause it was unexpected ; and I had the satisfaction of bringing together, at least for some days, men whose union appeared to me advantageous to the country. Jealousy, hatred, and malevolence were the plagues which seemed to have attached them- selves to the principal actors in the revolution. Could the latter have been brought to act in con- OF MIRABEAU. 159 cert, they would have imparted a uniform motion both to the assembly and to the nation. But my hopes in this respect were the illusions of inexpe- rience. No power but that of a government can suspend individual passions, and give them an impulsion towards a common object. In weak administrations, a thousand contending currents are formed, and each candidate for public favour, desirous of feathering his own nest, hates his fel- lows because he considers them rivals, and they thus mutually weaken each other until, at length, they all fall under the domination of one. Lafayette was now in the meridian of his power. He was master of the chateau, and the national guard were wholly devoted to him. But he bore his honors meekly, his intentions were pure and his personal character elicited general esteem. His house, under the direction of his virtuous and religious wife, was distinguished by that decorum of manners which the French nobles had too much neglected. I was invited by him to dinner to meet JNIirabeau, M. de la Roche- foucauld, M. de Liancourt, and many others, and was thus in the full enjoyment of a reconcili- ation which I had brought about without any one suspecting my share in the business. 160 RECOLLECTIONS So far as I can remember, a scheme for bring- ing Mirabeau into office, was talked of about this period. There were conferences and negociations on the subject. M. Necker had ahiiost agreed to it — the King was about to consent — but there was a sine qua non of JMirabeau's, which was that lie should remain member of the assembly, with- out which he felt that his taking office would prove his destruction without advantage to the public cause. A suspicion of this project seemed to exist in the assembly. Perhaps it arose from secret treachery, or may be, simple indis- cretion. Be that as it may, whilst the negocia- tion was still pending, Lameth, or Noailles, or Dupont, or some one of that party, moved that no member should accept office in the executive, nor a King's minister sit in the assembly. Mira- beau opposed the motion in vain. Duroverai, I think, wrote a very powerful speech for him on this occasion. The votes were nearly balanced, but the motion was carried by a feeble majority. An appeal to the usage in the English parliament, instead of telling against the motion, was instru- mental to its success. The least idea of imita- tion offended the pride of the innovators, who pretended to establish a monarchical form of OF MIRABEAU. l6l government without preserving a single element of monarchy. INlirabeau's exasperation may easily be conceived when he found his ambitious hopes overthrown by this motion of the Lameths and their party. In the constitution-committee, Sieyes had made two proposals which were rejected, because, ac- cording to custom, he had not taken the least trouble to get them accepted. One was a civic inscription, to admit young men, with a certain degree of solemnity, into the body of active citizens. I liked this idea, not as a great legis- lative measure but as a means of inspection and education for youth. I wrote a short speech upon it, which INIirabeau delivered at the assem- bly, and the proposal was unanimously adopted. Sieyes was delighted at the humiliation of the committee. He was much pleased with Mira- beau, and still more with me. It was not a difficidt matter for him to guess my share in the business ; for after the rejection of the proposal by the committee, he had mentioned it in a conversa- tion at the house of the Bishop of Chartres, and I had expressed my opinion on the subject. The other proposal, wliich I likewise treated with the same success, has escaped my memory, 162 RECOLLECTIONS but I shall find it in looking over the numbers of the Cou7Tier de Provence. The question of qualifications for a deputy having been brought forward, Duroverai wrote a speech for Mirabeau, which tended to render bankrupts ineligible to any public employment. This was one of the laws of Geneva, to prove the utility of which Montesquieu had devoted a whole chapter. There are, however, some strong objections to the principle. A merchant may fail without being to blame, and it is hard to punish misfortune by a disgraceful exclusion. A bankrupt may be a man of overwhelming talent, and it would not be just to deprive the public of his services. Experience at Geneva had, however, shown that the advantages of this law more than counterbalanced its evils, and the authority of Montesquieu, though not very pow- erful with the democratic party, contributed, nevertheless, to the success of the motion. M. Reybaz sent a humorous letter on this subject to the Courrier de Provence.* I forgot to mention another law passed at Ver- sailles, at the suggestion of Duroverai, after the Vide Appendix, No. 4. OF MIRABEAU. l63 King had gone to Paris ; namely, the martial law. Insurrections had become so frequent, that the duties of a municipal officer or a town-major were more difficult than when in the presence of a hostile army. In many places the troops, im- bued witli the revolutionary spirit of the day, instead of supporting the authorities had joined the people. The revolution existed in the army as in the nation. A handful of mutineers were sufficient to make the commandant of a citadel tremble. Every act of personal defence became a capital crime, and the clamours of the populace were more formidable than an enemy's battery. Mirabeau had long thought that this popular dic- tature should be put down, and, if I mistake not, was the first to propose the martial law, which encountered a violent opposition. It is remark- able that he again opposed the popular party, and yet his popularity was not affected by it. Duro- verai drew up the law upon the English model, and England was often, though improperly, quoted throughout this debate. There were at this period at A''ersailles, two English barristers with whom I was intimate. Duroverai, who had a superabundance of activity in the pursuit of his plan, requested that I would ask them to 164 RECOLLECTIONS write a letter to Mirabeau, explaining martial law as it existed in England. I told him that I was sure of not succeeding in such a demand ; I had good reasons for thinking so, and it was not until repeatedly urged by Duroverai, that I consented to make the application. I asked my English friends if they would answer a letter from Mira- beau, soliciting information on the subject ; but I could obtain nothing from either. They would not expose themselves to have their names men- tioned, their letter shown, or to the suspicion of having, in any way, attempted to influence the deliberations of the assembly. I should not have mentioned this circumstance but to remark, that this reserve belongs to the national character of the English, and that the fear of appearing in a matter in which they had no concern — the suspicion of intrigue or officious interference, is a feeling as common among Eng- lishmen, as the desire of taking a prominent part and interfering with every thing, is a universal feeling among Frenchmen. OF MIR ABE AU. l65 CHAPTER XL I HAVE, in my head, a confusion of dates con- cerning the occurrences of November and Decem- ber. It was in the former month, that Duroverai went to England. His absence, which was not to have exceeded a week, lasted five or six. M. Reybaz, who, as I have already stated, undertook to supply his place in the Courrier de Provence, seldom attended the assembly, from which he re- sided at too great a distance, but took his mate- rials from other journals, which were now becom- ing very numerous. The Moniteur was already begun, and in it was published every speech made in the assembly, whether good or bad. As great accuracy in dates is requisite for what follows, I fear I shall be unable to establish them from simple recollection. I must refer to docu- 186 RECOLLECTIONS ments, and shall, therefore, be unable to finish this chapter until my return to London. During Duroverai's absence, INIirabeau called upon me one morning, and said he had a most important communication to make. He began by representing in the blackest colours, the com- plete disorganization of the kingdom, expatiated on the impossibility of doing any good with the national assembly, as then constituted. I was waiting with great eagerness for the conclusion of this exordium, couched in the language of the counter-revolutionists, for I was anxious to know what new freak he had imagined. At length, he drew from his portfolio a paper, in his own hand- writing, of seven or eight pages. " Here," said he, " is a plan by which France may yet be saved, and her freedom secured ; for you know me too well, my friend, to suppose that I would co-ope- rate in any measure of which liberty were not the basis. Read it through, without interrup- tion. I will then talk to you about the means of execution, and you will perceive that they are commensurate with the greatness of the measure. I cannot, however, tell you all, or name the par- ties concerned. It is a secret of honor — a so- lemn engagement." I here have occasion to regret the imperfection OF MIRABEAU. l67 of my memory, and the lapse of time which has effaced from my recollection most of the details of this project. It was founded upon the depar- ture of the King, who could no longer bear his captivity at Paris. He was to escape to Metz, or some other strongly fortified city, garrisoned with troops and officers of well known fidelity. On his arrival thither, he was to appeal, by proclama- tion, to the body of the people. He was to re- mind the country of his benefactions, and de- nounce the crimes of the metropolis. He was to cancel the decrees of the national assembly, as contrary to law and founded upon a manifest usurpation of power. He was next to dissolve the assembly itself, and order an immediate con- vocation of the bailliages to elect fresh depu- ties. He was, at the same time, to order all the commandants to resume their authority, the par- liaments their functions, and to act in conjunc- tion against the rebels. He was to summon the nobles to rally round him, for the defence of the monarch and his throne. Mirabeau was to remain at Paris, and watch the motions of the assembly. So soon as the royal proclamation should appear, all the coU-droit and the moderates of the coU- gauche were, if my memory serves me correctly, to vote that they should immediately follow the X68 RECOLLECTIONS King, and separate from those who were of a con- trary opinion. If Paris persevered in its disobe- dience, all communication with it was to be stopped, and it was to be reduced by famine. It was certain that the clergy, who had been de- spoiled of their wealth by the national assembly, would employ all their religious influence over the people, in furtherance of this plan ; and the bishops were to meet, and protest, in the name of religion, against the sacrilegious usurpations of the legislative body. — There were four or five pages in the same strain. The project appeared arranged with much art, and all its parts seemed so skilfully combined, as to be likely to work well in conjunction. (fjY(v 'liah^ Si^}hm)i(ih My k^O)}} (jXo f-^ff^ Y^U • ^ ^^ * ^<^. /if (let ^ (Mii ^W^^c/L, cn^an/^i^tyhx, k)iArhuK, (Pi I H-.So University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hiigard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. JUL 3 01993 RFCn LD-U P^ APR 1 1$7 fe4 ir-M ?il r^' ^y< /^ M '^ ^ ^ih^i ^■^ ^. &