and is
now again obliged to press itself through a narrow bridge, and flow
on in its bounded channel. Down the long street, all visible from
our windows, there swelled continually the strangest tide: a high
double-seated travelling-coach towered visible over the flood of things.
We thought of the fair Frenchwomen we had seen in the morning. It was
not they, however, it was Count Haugwitz; him you could look at, with
a kind of sardonic malice, rocking onwards, step by step, there.'
(Campagne in Frankreich, Goethe's Werke (Stuttgart, 1829), xxx.
133-137.)

In such untriumphant Procession has the Brunswick Manifesto issued! Nay
in worse, 'in Negotiation with these miscreants,'--the first news of
which produced such a revulsion in the Emigrant nature, as put our
scientific World-Poet 'in fear for the wits of several.' There is no
help: they must fare on, these poor Emigrants, angry with all persons
and things, and making all persons angry, in the hapless course they
struck into. Landlord and landlady testify to you, at tables-d'hote, how
insupportable these Frenchmen are: how, in spite of such humiliation,
of poverty and probable beggary, there is ever the same struggle for
precedence, the same forwardness, and want of discretion. High in
honour, at the head of the table, you with your own eyes observe not
a Seigneur but the automaton of a Seigneur, fallen into dotage; still
worshipped, reverently waited on, and fed. In miscellaneous seats, is
a miscellany of soldiers, commissaries, adventurers; consuming silently
their barbarian victuals. 'On all brows is to be read a hard destiny;
all are silent, for each has his own sufferings to bear, and looks forth
into misery without bounds.' One hasty wanderer, coming in, and eating
without ungraciousness what is set before him, the landlord lets off
almost scot-free. "He is," whispered the landlord to me, "the first of
these cursed people I have seen condescend to taste our German black
bread." (Ibid. 152.) (Ibid. 210-12.)

And Dumouriez is in Paris; lauded and feasted; paraded in glittering
saloons, floods of beautifullest blond-dresses and broadcloth-coats
flowing past him, endless, in admiring joy. One night, nevertheless, in
the splendour of one such scene, he sees himself suddenly apostrophised
by a squalid unjoyful Figure, who has come in uninvited, nay despite of
all lackeys; an unjoyful Figure! The Figure is come "in express mission
from the Jacobins," to inquire sharply