France in Eighteen Hundred and Two: Described in a Series of Contemporary Letters

A historical travel narrative in letters written in the early 19th century. It presents an English observer’s on‑the‑spot account of France during the Consulate, tracing a journey from Calais to Paris and reflecting on the social and political aftermath of the Revolution. Expect sharp commentary on bureaucracy, policing, military dominance, and moral tone, alongside vivid descriptions of ruined churches, emptied châteaux, beggar‑crowded towns, and the everyday realities of travel. The opening of this volume begins with Richard Davey’s introduction and the editor’s note explaining the rediscovery and pruning of Yorke’s scarce letters, sketching his path from youthful radicalism to a chastened liberalism after imprisonment, and framing the letters as a critique of Revolutionary excess, Napoleonic spoliation, and cultural decline. Yorke’s first letters then narrate his landing at Calais—petty passport ordeals, a squalid cabaret, and a frank soldier’s view that the army fights for “glory and plenty,” not liberty—followed by a portrait of humane municipal leaders who spared Calais from Terror, contrasted with Joseph Le Bon’s atrocities elsewhere. He details travel logistics and costs, then moves post by post through Boulogne, Montreuil, Abbeville, and Amiens, recording wrecked monasteries, pervasive beggary, women at the plough, poor husbandry, grasping innkeepers, and the mutilated cathedral at Amiens, capped by a chilling anecdote of Le Bon’s fall. From Chantilly he mourns the obliteration of the Condé estates (stables surviving, palaces razed, gardens and menageries destroyed), and at S. Denys he finds the royal necropolis gutted. Entering Paris, he notes the absence of a stabilizing middle class, endures comic‑grim battles with fashion and a predatory hairdresser, and closes this opening stretch at the Police Ministry amid queues, soldiers’ privilege, and a brusque, militarized bureaucracy.