JOURNEY TO AMIENS, WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE PRESENT STATE OF THE COUNTRY After all our arrangements had been concluded we proceeded on the route towards Paris. We were forcibly struck by the backward state of the vegetation in the Department of Calais, and we compared the poverty of the exhausted soil with the luxuriant richness of the county of Kent this early spring. Over the service of vast unenclosed tracts of land we perceived scarcely any but women employed in culture of the earth. The implements of village husbandry, as well as the cattle, were the worst I ever beheld, and the population did not seem in any way adequate to the extent of the country. Wherever any vestiges of religion or aristocracy remained we traced the ravages of the Revolution. Monasteries and churches were heaps of ruins; if a church had escaped the general wreck, an inscription over its portal, “This is the Temple of Reason and Truth,” denoted that it had been abused for atheistical purposes. In every village through which we passed crowds of children, women and old men pressed upon us, begging charity and bread. I inquired into the causes of this melancholy spectacle. My informer pointed to a monastery in ruins, and shook his head. I felt the force of this explanation. The agreeable seaport of Boulogne presented itself before us. When we reached the gates I asked whether Parker was alive. I heard he still kept the same hotel where I slept in 1792. When we reached it I found him grown grey, however, with suffering and persecution. He received me with unfeigned pleasure, few Englishmen had hitherto passed, and the sight of a countryman rejoiced his heart. He told me that during the time of Terror, Dounne,[1] the Conventional Deputy, took up his quarters in his hotel, and fared sumptuously upon the fat of the land. In a very short time this representative of the people contrived to absorb a vast quantity of wine, particularly port, for which he had a great relish, and for none of this did he ever pay one farthing. One day after dinner he sent for Parker and inquired whether he had any more port. The latter replied that unfortunately his stock was exhausted. At this the Citizen Deputy expressed great regret. Two hours later, he ordered, in consequence, poor Parker into arrest, and sent him to a prison in Paris, without permitting him to make any arrangements respecting his family concerns, or even to take leave of his family. He remained eighteen months in jail, cut off from his friends and relations, while his house and property were completely at the mercy of the Jacobins. [Sidenote: JOURNEY TO AMIENS] He has now returned to try his fortune once more at Boulogne, and I sincerely hope English travellers will encourage a countryman, who is highly deserving of their patronage.