CO

v7<i.

SANSON'S MEMOIRS,

VOL II.

l.OKDON : PRINTED BY

SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NKW-STKEET SQIJAKE

AND PARLIAMENT STREET

MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS

[i688-(i847.n

EDITED BY

HENRY SANSON,

LAIE EXECUTIONER OF THE COURT OF JUSTICE OF I'ARIS.

AV TWO VOLUMES,— VOL. IL

CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY.

/553

CONTENTS

OF

THE SECOND VOLUME.

CHAPTER PAGE

XXVII, An Expiatory Mass i

XXVIII. The La Rouerie Conspiracy 29

XXIX. Charlotte Corday 34

XXX. CusTiNE 42

XXXI. The Queen 49

XXXII. The Gtrondins 58

XXXIII. Adam Lux. — The Duke of Orleans . , .71

XXXIV. Madame Roland and Bailly 77

XXXV. Charles Henri Sanson's Diary .... 90

XXXVI. Charles Henri Sanson's Diary {continued) . . 112

XXXVII. Charles Henri Sanson's Diary {continued) . 125

XXXVIIL Trial of Danton, Camille Desmoulins, West-

ermann, etc., etc 130

XXXIX. Charles Henri Sanson's Diary {continued) . 135

XL. Charles Henri Sanson's Diary {continued) . . 145

vi CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

CHAPTER PAGE

XLI. Charles Henri Sanson's Diary {continued) . .158

XLII. Charles Henri Sanson's Diary {contitiued) . . id'j

XLIH. My Father goes into the Artillery.— His MS. 182

XLIV. Arrest of my Father and Great-Uncle after

the <^th OF Thermidor 191

XLV. The Death of Robespierre . . . . .197

XLVI. Lesurques . . 212

XLVII. My Vocation 223

XLVni. My Education . . 228

XLIX. My First Execution 241

L. LouvEL 247

LI. My Executions 253

APPENDIX . 287

MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

CHAPTER XXVII.

AN EXPIATORY MASS.

The death of Louis XVI. profoundly disturbed Charles Henri Sanson. I do not know whether I have shown this extraordinary man in sufficient relief. Charles Henri was a true descendant of his stoical grandmother. He had been imbued with her ideas and principles, and beheved in the legitimacy of his profession and social mission. He regarded himself as invested with stern and painful, yet withal necessary, functions. This con- viction had given him enough strength and courage to discharge duties which, I have every reason to believe, clashed with his natural disposition. His sense of duty had, however, been confirmed by forty years' experience. At times the cruelty of certain punishments, as in the case of Damiens, had slightly shaken his strong faith ; but a sentiment of obedience prevailed in the end, and his scruples vanished before the certainty that the judges were responsible for the sentences which he, as their blind instrument, carried out.

With such a theory he could not but regard the VOL. II. B

2 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

reprobation in which his functions were held as a prejudice of the worst description : hence his petitions to Parliament and the National Assembly. I may add that, in the case of the latter tribunal, my grandfather was so dissatisfied with the arguments suggested against his plea, that he immediately wrote the following letter to the members of the National Assembly :

'Gentlemen, — For a long time the executioners of criminal judgments have complained of the injustice of a prejudice which partly awards to them the disgrace of the crimes which justice punishes through their instru- mentality. They have hitherto suffered the humiliation, and found sufficient consolation in their consciences. It is now attempted to sanction this prejudice by declaring them unfit to hold civil rights. Such is, at least, the in- tention expressed by the Abbe Maury in the sitting of the 23 rd of the present month.

' The Abbe Maury's motion has caused us considerable alarm, and we are convinced that justice must be de- prived of its executive strength if the motion is carried.

* The executioner of Paris, Charles Henri Sanson, who hereby presents to you his most respectful remon- strances, declares (and all his confrhes will follow his example) that he will tender his resignation if you declare that executioners are not citizens,

* The petitioner trusts that you will deign to examine the question with the attention it deserves. At a time when justice prevails, you will not suffer it to be over- looked.

' (Signed) SANSON,

* Executioner of criminal sentences in the town of Paris.'

AN EXPIATORY MASS. 3

I said before that the Assembly gave no decision respecting the petition presented by the executioners. The Assembly allowed the decree to stand as it had been previously worded, thus leaving the executioners to infer that they had gained their point. They were, in fact, henceforth treated as citizens ; and we have seen my grandfather and father in the meetings of their sections and holding grades in the National Guard.

Such had been, up to the death of the King, Charles Henri Sanson's feelings concerning what he styled the honour of his profession. The blood which flowed freely under the Convention altered his sentiments. Seeing an edifice he had been taught to respect falling, he began to doubt whether he had a right to believe in the scaffold after the overthrow of the throne ; whether the destruction of royalty did not call for the abolition of the office of executioner. These doubts es- pecially harassed him on the night that preceded the execution of the King. His state of mind can easily be imagined when it is remembered that he had sympathy for Louis XVI. More than once he thought of running away ; but thereby he would have exposed his family to great danger.

On January 21 my grandfather, who seldom left his home except when he was obliged, only spent a few moments with his wife and children. He came to see them after the execution, and then hurried away and returned after midnight. My grandmother was be- coming very uneasy at his absence when Chesneau, who

B 2

4 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

was still living under Charles Henri Sanson's roof, told her that his old friend had asked him the address of an aged priest and two nuns he knew, and that he had pro- bably gone to see them. My grandmother understood the object of such a visit. She knew her husband's religious feelings, and guessed that, in spite of the perils and diffi- culties of the adventure, he was in quest of a remedy for his troubled conscience.

Charles Henri Sanson returned at two o'clock in the morning, and before his friends had time to question him, he said :

* Chesneau, I have seen your proteges. It is bitterly cold. You must take some provisions to them to- morrow. You will provide them with victuals every week. But I do not want you to say whence these provisions come. — I . have seen two nuns who are very miserable, my dear Mary,' he added, turning to my grandmother ; * if you can give them some clothing you will do them a good turn and oblige me.'

Charles Henri Sanson retired after giving the above explanation of his absence. On the following day he related to his wife that he had found in a miserable hut of La Villette a priest who had escaped from the massacres of the Carmelites, and two nuns who had been driven away from their convent ; that the priest had promised him that he would celebrate a mass, far less for the repose of the soul of the King than for the peace of his (Sanson's) conscience.

The secret of this expiatory mass was kept during the remainder of my grandfather's life ; but after his

AN EXPIATORY MASS. 5

death, my grandmother and my father, believing that the anecdote would redound to his credit, related it to some of their friends. It came to the knowledge of an illustrious writer, Honore de Balzac, who begged my father to confirm its authenticity. His behest was granted, and, with the help of the additional elements furnished to him by my father, he wrote the following moving account : ^

Towards the end of the month of January 1793 an old lady was descending the incline which leads to the St. Laurent Church, in the Faubourg St Martin. It was about eight o'clock in the evening. Snow had fallen in the morning, so that the sound of footsteps could hardly be heard. It was very cold. The streets were lonely, and the natural fear inspired by the silence that prevailed was intensified by the terror which, at the time, was pervading the whole of France. The old lady had met no one. Her weak sight was even unable to detect in the distance, by the light of the lanterns, a few loiterers scattered like shadows along the immense thoroughfare. She was fearlessly crossing this solitude, as if old age were a talisman which could preserve her from any mishap.

After she had passed the Rue des Morts she thought she could detect the heavy and firm step of a man behind her. The idea that she was followed frightened her, and she stepped forward more briskly, so as to reach a well-lighted shop, hoping then to descry her

^ This account has been reprinted in the edition of Balzac's complete works.

6 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

follower. As soon as she reached the first ray of hori- zontal light which issued from the shop, she suddenly- turned round and saw a man whose form she could but just discern through the fog. The indistinct vision was enough for her. She tottered under the terror where- with she was filled ; for she did not doubt that she had been followed by the stranger ever since she had left her abode. The desire to escape from her silent persecutor gave her strength, and, without reasoning, she went faster, as if she could get out of the reach of a man who, obviously, could easily keep up with her. After running for a few minutes, she reached a pastrycook's shop, rushed in, and fell, rather than sat down, on a chair before the counter.

As she entered,. a young woman who was darning looked up. Recognising the old-fashioned shape of a violet silk cloak which covered the old lady's shoulders, she hastened to open a drawer, as if to take out some- thing she was to remit to her. The young woman's gesture and face betrayed a desire to get rid of the unknown as soon as possible, as if she had been one of those persons whom it is no pleasure to meet. She made a gesture of impatience on finding the drawer empty, and, without looking at the lady, she hurriedly left the counter, entered the back shop, and called her husband, who suddenly appeared.

'Where have you put V she asked with an air

of mystery, designating the old lady by a glance.

She did not finish her query. Although the pastry- cook could only see the large black silk cap, adorned

i

AN EXPIATORY MASS, mj , /i

with bows of violet ribbon, he disappeared, after lookirrg-^n/^ <l^ at his wife in a manner which seemed to signify : lX^tJ//^

'Do you think I am stupid enough to leave it on your counter ? '

Astonished at the silence and stillness of the old lady, the woman returned to her ; and, upon looking at her, she was seized with compassion, or rather with curiosity.

Although the unknown lady's face was naturally livid, as that of a person addicted to austere habits, it was easy to see that some recent emotion had overcast it with extraordinary pallor. Her head gear was so con- trived as to conceal her hair, doubtless silvered by age ; for the cleanliness of her collar showed that she did not wear powder. Absence of any ornament gave her an appearance of religious severity. Her features were grave and proud. In former times the manners and habits of the upper class were so different from those belonging to other classes that it was easy to recognise a person of birth. The young woman was therefore convinced that the unknown was a ci-devanty and that she formerly belonged to the Court.

' Madam,' said she, instinctively and with respect, forgetting that this appellation was prohibited.

But the old lady made no answer. Her eyes were fixed on the panes of the shop, as if she saw a frightful apparition behind them.

' What is the matter with you, citoyenne } ' enquired the master of the house, reappearing and calling the old lady's attention by handing her a small cardboard box wrapped in blue paper.

8 . MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

* Nothing — nothing, friends/ she answered, in a soi voice.

She looked up and thanked the pastrycook ; but on perceiving the red cap he wore, she uttered a scream.

' You have betrayed me ! '

The young woman and her husband answered with a gesture of horror which brought a blush to the un- known lady's countenance.

'Excuse me,* she said, with childish gentleness. Then taking a louis from her pocket, she presented it to the pastrycook.

' Here is the price you mentioned.'

There is a kind of poverty which the poor alone can guess. The pastrycook and his wife looked at each other, pointing to the old woman, and exchanged the same thought. This louis was probably the last she had. Her hands trembled when she offered it. She looked at it intently, but without avarice. Fasting and hardship were as visibly imprinted on her features as fear and ascetic habits. In her dress could be detected vestiges of splendour — worn-out silk ; a clean although faded cloak ; carefully mended lace, rags of opulence. The tradesman and his wife, hesitating between pity and love of gain, began by allaying their consciences in kind words.

' But, citoyenne, you seem very faint.'

' Would madam take something } ' exclaimed the wife, interrupting her husband.

'We have some excellent broth,' said the pastry- cook.

AN EXPIATORY MASS, 9

' It is so cold. — Madam was probably taken unwell when she came, but you can remain here and warm yourself.*

Encouraged by these kind expressions, the lady admitted that she had been followed by a man, and was afraid to return home alone.

' Is that all } Wait a moment, citoyenne ! ' said the man with the red cap.

He handed the louis to his wife, and impelled by the peculiar gratitude that fills a tradesman when he receives an exorbitant price for merchandise of moderate value, he retired, put on his uniform of National Guards- man, took up his hat and his musket, and reappeared.

But his wife had had time to reflect, and reflection drove away her compassion. Fearful that her husband should meddle with some mysterious and dangerous business, she tried to pull him by his coat-tail ; but the pastrycook had already offered to escort the old lady.

'The man who followed the lady is still lurking around the shop,' exclaimed the young woman.

' I think he is,' candidly answered the old lady.

*■ Perhaps he is a spy ! There may be some con- spiracy ! Don't go ; — and take the box away from her.'

These words whispered in the pastrycook's ear by his wife deprived him of the slight courage he already possessed.

* I'll go and speak to him, and get rid of him directly ! ' cried the pastrycook, rushing into the street.

The old lady, as passive as a child, and quite bewil- dered, sat down again.

lo MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS. ^

The honest tradesman soon returned. His face, which was naturally red and inflamed by the heat of his oven, had suddenly turned pale, and he was so terrified that his legs shook like those of a drunkard.

' Do you want to get us guillotined, you aristocrat ? ' he shrieked furiously, and with a thick utterance. ' Show us your heels — never come here again, and don't expect that I'll ever furnish you with elements of conspiracy.'

And the pastrycook tried to gain possession of the small box, which the lady had thrust into one of her pockets.

Hardly had the man's trembling hands touched her clothes than the unknown, preferring the dangers of the street, with God as her only protection, to the loss of that which she had just purchased, recovered the activity of her youth. She sprang to the door, opened it and disappeared, to the amazement of her trembling ag- gressors.

The unknown walked on quickly, but her momentary vigour soon collapsed. She could hear the spy, who was still following her, and whose step cracked on the snow which he pressed down under his heavy feet. She was obliged to stop. He stopped also. She dared neither to look at him nor to speak to him, either out of fear or of inability to find words. She then resumed her way with a slower step, and he slackened his progress so as to remain at a reasonable distance. He seemed to be the old woman's very shadow. The church clock was striking nine when the silent couple passed again before St. Laurent.

AN EXPIATORY MASS, il

But It is in the nature of the soul, even in the most infirm, that calmness should follow a fit of violent agitation. It was probably due to this that the unknown lady, receiving no harm at the hands of her supposed persecutor, imagined that he was a secret friend who merely wished to afford her. protection. She remembered all the circumstances which had attended the stranger's appearance, as if to find support for this consoling opinion ; and thus she began to think that his intentions were good. Forgetting the terror evinced at his sight by the pastrycook, she advanced with a firm step along the higher regions of the Faubourg) St. Martin.

After half an hour's walk, she reached a house situate near the cross formed by the principal street of the faubourg and the * road which leads to the gate of Pantin. This place was one of the most lonely in Paris. The wind, passing over the Buttes-Chaumont and Belleville, hissed between the houses, or rather the huts, scattered in this desolate vale. No blackness could be more discouraging than that which pervaded this spot, which seemed the natural refuge of poverty and despair. The man who relentessly pursued the poor creature who was bold enough to traverse these dark and deserted parts, appeared struck with the sight. He stopped, thoughtful and hesitant. The faint light of a lantern, dimly shining through the fog, revealed his form but imperfectly ; but fear improved the old woman's sight ; and as she imagined that the man's face was sinister, her terror returned. Whilst her pursuer was still hesitating, she glided, in the shadow, towards the

12 MEMOIRS OF THE SANS ON S.

door of the solitary house, turned the lock, and disap- peared with marvellous rapidity.

The man was still motionless, looking at the house. It had the aspect of ^the buildings which give so miser- able an appearance to the suburbs of Paris. It looked so dilapidated that a gust of wind, to all appearance, might have scattered it. The brown tiles of the roof, covered with moss, seemed ready to sink under the weight of the snow. Each landing had three windows, so rotten and antiquated that the wind ffeely entered the rooms. The general appearance of the old house was that of a tower of which the elements were achieving the over- throw. A faint light could be seen through the three upper windows, and the remainder of the house was plunged in complete darkness.

It was not without effort that the old woman ascended the steep and broken staircase, along which ran a rope in lieu of balustrade. She gave a gentle tap at the door of the upper apartment, and sat down in the chair which an old man hastened to present to her.

* Hide yourself — quick ! ' said she, breathlessly ; ' for, although we do not often go out, our refuge is discovered and our steps are tracked.'

* What is the matter } ' enquired another old woman, who was seated near the fire.

* The man who has been lurking about the house for the last few days, followed me this evening.'

At these words the three inhabitants of the garret looked at each other with every token of profound terror. The old man was the least agitated, perhaps

AN EXPIATORY MASS. 13

because he was in greater peril than his female com- panions. When a brave man labours under a great misfortune, or feels under the yoke of constant persecu- tion, he submits to impending death, considering his days of respite as so many victories gained over fate.

The two women's looks were directed towards the old man, and showed that he was the only cause of their fear.

* Why should you not confide in God, my sisters 1 ' he said, in a low but unctuous voice. ' We sang His praises amidst the cries uttered by the murderers and the murdered in the Convent of Carmelites. If it was His will that I should be saved, it was doubtless to provide for me a fate which I am bound to accept without a murmur. God protects His ministers, and can act with them as He likes. You must think of yourselves, not of me.'

' Nay, do not say so,' exclaimed the two old women.

* I considered myself as dead from the day on which I left the Abbey of Chelles,' cried the one of the two nuns who was sitting near the fire.

' Here is the Host,' said the other, handing to the priest the small box she had found so much trouble in procuring.

*■ But,' she cried, ' I hear a step on the staircase ! '

At these words all three listened. The noise sub- sided.

' Do not be frightened,' said the priest, ' if some one tries to enter. A person on whose fidelity we can reckon is preparing to cross the frontier, and will take the letters I have written to the Duke de Lorges

14 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

I

and the Marquis de Bethune, in which I beg them to think of the means of removing you from this horrible country — from death and misery, which are our con- stant attendants.'

' Will you not come with us, then ? ' asked the nuns with a kind of despair.

* My place is among victims ! ' said the priest with simplicity.

They remained silent, eyeing their companion with admiration.

* Sister Martha,' said he to the nun who had brought the Host, * the envoy I was speaking of is to answer Fiat vohmtas to the word Hosannah'

*■ Some one is coming up the stairs ! ' exclaimed the other nun, opening a place of concealment cleverly built under the roof

This time it was easy to hear, amidst profound silence, the steps of a man striking against pieces of hard mud which covered the stairs. The priest hastily entered a kind of cupboard, and the nun threw some clothes over him.

'You can close the cupboard now. Sister Agatha,' said he, in a low voice.

Hardly was the priest out of sight when three raps at the door startled the two poor creatures. They looked at each other without daring to utter a word.

Construing their silence In his own way, the man who was knocking pushed open the door and suddenly ap- peared. The two nuns shuddered when they recognised the person who for the last five or six days had been

I

AN EXPIATORY MASS. 15

lurking around the house. They moved not, and eyed him with uneasy curiosity, in the manner of shy children who silently observe strangers.

The man was of middle height and rather portly ; but nothing in his demeanour or in his face indicated malignity. He neither advanced nor spoke, but ex- amined the room. Two straw mats, stretched out on the fioor, were the only couch of the nuns. There was a table in the middle of the room. Thereon was placed a brass candlestick, a few plates, three knives, and a round loaf The fire was not of the brightest, and a few pieces of wood, heaped up in a corner, showed the poverty of the inmates. The walls,, which were painted over, betrayed the decrepid state of the roof, for brownish stains showed that water trickled down from above. A relic, saved probably from the sack of the Abbey of Chelles, was deposited on the mantelpiece. The remainder of the furniture consisted of three chairs, two boxes, and an old chest of drawers. A door near the mantelpiece indicated that there was another room on the same floor.

This enumeration was made in a few seconds by the stranger who had appeared under such sinister auspices. A feeling of compassion was visible on his countenance, and he looked benevolently upon the two women. He seemed at least as embarrassed as they were, and the pause which followed lasted a full minute; At length the visitor perceived the moral weakness and inexperience of the poor creatures, and he said to them in a voice of which he tried to soften the tone :

i6 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS,

*■ I do not come here as an enemy, sisters. If some misfortune were to happen to you, do not attribute any share of it to me. I have a favour to ask.'

They remained silent.

' If I annoy you — if I cause you any inconveni- ence— speak fearlessly, I will retire ; but know that I am entirely devoted to you, and that if I can be of any service you can employ me without fear.'

There was such an accent of truth in these words that Sister Agatha, who belonged to the family of Bethune, and whose manners seemed to indicate that in former days she had known the gaiety of fetes and breathed the atmosphere of the Court, pointed to a chair, as if inviting the speaker to sit down. The un- known manifested a kind of joy not unmingled with sadness, when he understood the gesture ; and he waited until the two nuns themselves were seated before he accepted the invitation.

' You have given shelter,' he resumed, ' to a venerable priest, who miraculously escaped from the massacre of the Carmelites.'

' Hosannah ! ' exclaimed Sister Agatha, interrupting the stranger.

* That is not his name, I think,' answered he.

* But, sir, we have no priest here,' said Sister Martha, 'and '

'You should be more careful,' continued the stranger, in a gentle tone ; and he stretched out his hand and took up a breviary. ' You do not know Latin, and '

AN EXPIATORY MASS. 17

He stopped, for the extraordinary emotion which appeared on the features of the two nuns showed him that he was going too far. They trembled and their eyes were full of tears.

' Be reassured/ said the unknown visitor, with a frank voice. * I know the name of your guest and yours also. Five days ago I heard of your distress, and of your devo- tion to the venerable Abbe de '

* Hush ! ' said Sister Agatha, with candour, putting up a finger.

' You may perceive, sisters, that if I had the horrible intention of betraying you, I might have done so ere this.'

Hearing these words, the priest emerged from his hiding-place and advanced towards the stranger.

' I cannot believe, sir,' said he to him, ' that you are one of our persecutors, and I do not distrust you. What do you want t '

The priest's simple manner and the noble expression of his features might have disarmed even assassins. The mysterious individual who had given animation to this scene of misery looked for a few moments at the group formed by these three beings, and, assuming a tone of confidence, he spoke to the priest in the following terms :

' Father, I came to beseech you to say a mass for the repose of the soul of a person whose body — whose body shall never be buried in hallowed ground.'

The priest shuddered ; and the nuns, not understand- ing yet what the stranger wanted, remained, with out- stretched necks, in an attitude of curiosity. VOL. II. C

i8 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

The priest scanned the stranger's features. Evident anxiety could be seen there, and his looks were humble and beseeching.

* Well,' answered the priest, ' return at midnight : I shall then be ready to celebrate the only funeral service we can offer in expiation of crime.'

The stranger started ; but a gentle and grave satis- faction overspread his features, and, after bowing respect- fully to the old priest and to the. nuns, he disappeared, manifesting a kind of silent gratitude which was under- stood by these generous souls.

The stranger returned two hours after, and, after discreetly knocking at the door, he was introduced by Mdlle. de Charost. She led him to the second room on the same landing, where everything was prepared for the ceremony.

Between two shafts the nuns had placed the old chest of drawers, of which the old-fashioned shape was con- cealed by an altar-covering of green moire. A large crucifix of ebony and ivory, attached to the yellow wall, showed off the nudity of the room and attracted the eyes. Four small thin tapers which the sisters had fixed with yellow wax upon this improvised altar furnished a pale and flickering light. These tapers hardly lighted the other parts of the room, but it made the holy objects discernible, and thereby looked like rays descending from Heaven on this unadorned altar. The floor was damp. The roof, which steeply descended on both sides, as is usual in garrets, was cracked, and an icy wind penetrated through the openings. Nothing could

' AN EXPIATORY MASS. 19

be less pompous, and yet never, perhaps, was anything more impressive than this gloomy ceremony. Profound silence overcast the scene with a kind of dark majesty; and the grandeur of the act so strongly contrasted with the poverty of the display that a sentiment of religious awe prevailed.

The two old nuns were kneeling on either side of the altar, and, regardless of the dampness of the floor, they joined in the prayers of the priest who, clad in his pontifical vestments, was holding up a gold pyx studded with precious stones — a sacred vase saved, no doubt, from the pillage of the Abbey of Chelles. Then, next to this pyx, the wine and the water reserved for the holy sacrifice were contained in two glasses scarcely worthy of the lowest wine-shop. As he had no missal, the priest had placed his breviary on a corner of the altar. A common plate was provided for the laving of the innocent and bloodless hands. Everything was im- mense though small, poor though noble, profane and holy at the same time.

The stranger piously kneeled between the two nuns ; but, suddenly perceiving a crape around the pyx and the crucifix, he was assailed by a recollection so painful that drops trickled down his brow.

The four silent actors in this scene looked at each other mysteriously ; and then their souls, acting in unison, exchanged their religious sentiments, and joined with each other in religious commiseration.

It seemed as if their thoughts had evoked the martyr whose remains had been devoured by quicklime.

20 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

and as if his shadow was before them in all its majesty. They celebrated an Obit, without the body of the defunct. Under these tiles and disjointed rafters four Christians were about to intercede with God for a King of France, and to go through the funeral service without his coffin. It was the purest of devotions, an astonishing act of faithfulness accomplished without fear. The whole Monarchy was there, in the prayer of a priest and two poor women ; and perhaps the Revolution was also represented by this man, whose face betrayed too much remorse not to make believe that he was actuated by boundless repentance.

Instead of pronouncing the Latin words introibo ad altare Dei, &c., the priest, by a divine inspiration, looked at his three companions who represented Christian France, and said to them :

' Let us enter God's sanctuary ! '

At these words, uttered with impressive softness, the stranger and the two nuns were seized with religious awe. God could not have appeared more majestic under the cupola of St. Peter's at Rome than He then appeared to these Christians in this refuge of misery.

The stranger's fervour was sincere. The sentiment which united the prayers of these four servants uf God and the King was unanimous. The holy words sounded like celestial music. When the Pater noster was said, tears came to the stranger's eyes. To this prayer the priest added, ' And forgive the regicides as Louis XVI. himself forgave them.'

The two nuns saw two large tears rolling down the

AN EXPIATORY MASS. 21

stranger's manly cheeks. The mass for the dead was recited. The Domine salvtim fac regent, sung in a low voice, moved these faithful Royalists. They thought that the child King on whose behalf they were imploring was in the hands of his enemies.

When the service was terminated, the priest made a sign to the two nuns, who retired. As soon as he was alone with the stranger, he went up to him with a gentle and paternal air, and said to him, sadly :

' My son, if you dipped your hands in the blood of the King, confide in me — there is no fault that cannot be forgiven by a repentance so sincere and so touching as yours.'

At the priest's first words, the stranger made a movement indicating terror ; but he regained his self- possession, and looking calmly at the astonished ecclesi- astic :

' Father,' said he, ' none is more innocent of the crime than I am.'

' I am bound to believe you ! ' said the priest.

There was a pause, during which he examined his penitent. Then, still believing him to be one of those timorous members of the Convention who sacrificed a royal head in order to preserve their own, he observed in a grave voice : ' Remember, my son, that it is not enough not to have taken part in this great crime to be absolved. Those who could defend the King and moved not a finger in his defence, shall have a heavy account to answer for before the King of Heaven. A heavy account indeed,' added the priest, shaking his head, * for

22 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

they became the unwiUing accompHces of this horrible deed.'

' Do you think,' enquired the stranger, with astonish- ment, ' that indirect participation will be punished ? Is, then, the soldier who attended the execution guilty of a crime? '

The priest hesitated.

Happy at the embarrassment in which he had plunged this puritan of royalty, by placing him between the dogma of passive obedience which, according to the partisans of monarchy, should predominate in the army, and the equally important dogma which consecrates the respect due to the person of a King, the stranger hastened to construe this hesitation of the priest into a favourable answer to the doubts which engrossed him. He then said, not wishing to give further time for reflection to the venerable Jansenist :

* I cannot offer an ordinary fee for the funeral service you have just celebrated for the repose of the soul of the King and for the quietude of my conscience. An in- valuable boon can only be returned by an equally invaluable offering. Deign to accept, therefore, this gift of a holy relic. A day shall come when you will understand its value.'

The stranger, suiting the action to the word, offered the priest a very light and small box. The priest took it, impulsively as it were ; for the gravity of the man's words, and the respect with which he held the box, sur- prised him very much.

They then returned to the room where the two nuns

AN EXPIATORY MASS. 23

were waiting for them. ' You live in a house/ said the stranger, 'of which the owner, Mucius Ccevola, the plasterer who lives on the first floor, is famous, in his section, for his patriotism ; but he is secretly attached to the Bourbons. Formerly he was one of Prince de Conti's grooms, and what he possesses he got from his master. If you remain indoors, you are safer here than anywhere else in France. Do not move. Pious people will see to your wants, and you can wait for more prosperous days without danger. A year hence, on January 21 ' (in pronouncing these last words he could not restrain a shudder), * if you select this melancholy shelter for your abode, I shall return and celebrate with you the expiatory mass.'

He bowed to the speechless inmates of the garret, cast a final look on the symptoms of their poverty, and went away.

For the two innocent nuns, such an adventure had the interest of a romance. As soon as they were ap- prised of the mysterious present made by the unknown visitor to the venerable abbe, the box was placed on the table, and the three faces, feebly lighted by the candle, evinced uncontrollable curiosity. Mademoiselle de Charost opened the box, and found therein a rather large pocket-handkerchief of very fine cambric. It was soiled by a few drops of perspiration. After looking at it with scrupulous attention, they found a number of small dark spots, as if the cambric had received splashes.

' It is blood ! ' said the priest, in a deep voice.

The two sisters recoiled with horror from the relic.

24 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

I

For these simple creatures the mystery which surrounded the stranger became unexplainable. As for the priest, he did not even attempt to clear it. The three prisoners soon perceived that, even in the darkest days of the Reign of Terror, a powerful hand was extended over them. At first they received wood and provisions ; then the two nuns guessed that a woman was acting in unison with their protector, when they received linen and garments which enabled them to walk out without attracting attention by the quaintness of the old- fashioned dresses they had hitherto been compelled to wear. At length Mucius Ccevola gave them two cards of civism.^ They frequently received communications concerning the safety of the priest, and they found this advice so opportune and well-timed that they inferred that their correspondent must be familiar with the secrets of the State. In spite of the famine which prevailed in Paris, they found at their door rations of white bread, which were regularly brought by invisible hands. In these circumstances the noble inmates of the garret could not but believe their protector to be the person who had caused the expiatory mass to be cele- brated in the night of January 21, 1793. He therefore became the object of peculiar respect to these three poor creatures, who had no hope, save in him, and who lived solely through his agency. Morning and evening the pious souls made wishes for his prosperity and sal- vation.

\ ' The carte de civisme was a kind of passport with which it was impos- j sible to dispense during the Reign of Terror. — N. Ed.

AN EXPIATORY MASS. 25

Their gratitude, being, as it were, rekindled every day, was naturally attended with a feeling of curiosity which became more and more intense. The circum- stances that had accompanied the appearance of the stranger formed the usual subject of their conversations. They made a thousand conjectures, and the occupation thereby furnished to them was an additional boon. They were resolved not to allow him to shirk their friendship when he returned according to his promise, to celebrate the melancholy anniversary of the death of Louis XVI. The long-expected evening came at last.

At midnight the heavy step was heard again on the old wooden staircase. The room had been prepared for his reception. The altar was in its place. This time the sisters hurried to the door before the stranger had time to reach the top landing, and lighted his way. Mdlle. de Charost even descended a few steps, thus sooner to catch sight of her benefactor.

' Come,' said she, in a moved and affectionate voice. ' Come ; you are expected.'

The man raised his head, threw a dark look at the nun, and did not answer. She felt as if a dress of ice enveloped her, and was silent. The stranger entered, and at his sight gratitude and curiosity expired in every heart. He was perhaps less cold, taciturn, and gloomy than he had at first appeared to these beings, whose exalted sentiments yearned to launch into friendship. The three poor prisoners understood that this man vv^ished to remain a stranger to them, and they sub- mitted. The priest thought he detected a faint smile

26 MEMOIRS OF THE SAN SONS.

I

on the stranger's face when he saw the preparations that had been made for his reception. He heard mass, prayed, and disappeared, after answering by a few words of negative politeness to Mdlle. de Charost's invitation to share a small repast she had prepared.

The expiatory mass was mysteriously celebrated in the garret until public worship was re-established by the First Consul. When the nuns and the abbe could reappear in the world without fear, they saw the unknown no more.

The ' Unknown ' was, as I said before, Charles Henri Sanson, my grandfather, who sought, by a pious cere- mony, to pacify his troubled conscience. Our family watched over these poor proscripts until the end of the Reign of Terror, and the abbe and sisters never knew the name of their protector ; for the sequel of the story related by Balzac (which I have omitted) is not true, and was only written for the wants of fiction.

The relic offered to the old priest by Charles Sanson was the handkerchief the King held on reaching the scaffold. He had used it more than once, on the way from prison, to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, and a few drops of blood had stained it after the head had fallen. The different garments worn by the un- fortunate monarch at the time of his death were carefully preserved by my grandfather. He was, however, unable to withhold some articles from his assistants, who, as I was told, sold them for large sums.

My father asked for and obtained the shoes and the

AN EXPIATORY MASS. 27^

collar buckle ; and he was only induced to part with them by an event which is worth relating. A few days after the King's death a horseman, followed by a servant, rang at our door, and asked for the master of the house. My grandfather was out ; so my father received the visitor. The latter was a man of fine appearance, in the flower of age ; he was dressed in black, and the Bourbonian cast of his features strongly reminded my father of Louis XVI.

' Sir ! ' said the new comer, who appeared much moved, ' I am told that you possess different objects which once belonged to the late King. As I suppose you wish to sell them, I came to make you an offer.'

' Sir,' answered my father, somewhat nettled, *we have, as you say, kept a few articles of apparel belonging to the late King, but we owe no explanations to anyone con- cerning the use we intend to make of them ; and I may as well tell you at once that we do not propose to part with them, at any price.

The visitor looked surprised.

' What ! if I offered you a princely ransom for your prize '

' We would not accept it.'

While he was speaking, my father looked attentively at the stranger, and the similarity of his features and of those of Louis XVL struck him again. His features were finer than the unfortunate prince's, but it was the same aquiline nose, high forehead, and thick lips which formed the typical signs of the race of the Bourbons. The visitor glanced around the room, and, seeing on the wall

28 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

a very fine engraving of one of the last portraits of Louis XV., an expression of surprise and emotion ap- peared on his countenance. This engraving, dated 1733, was due to Daulle, one of the celebrated engravers of the time.

* If you knew,' said he, ' on what grounds I ask for these melancholy souvenirs, perhaps you would not refuse to let me have them. Let me inform you that I belong, by secret relationship, to the family of the royal victim. I am the son of the King whose portrait I have before me ; I am usually styled the Abbe de Bourbon,'

My father looked at the engraving, and saw that his visitor bore a wonderful likeness to Louis XV. The Abbe de Bourbon, as he was called, was one of the illegitimate sons of this voluptuous monarch, who were indeed far too numerous to be legally recognised. Secretly protected by Louis XVI., the young abbe had been enabled to lead a semi-princely life. This pa- tronage had inspired deep gratitude in the Abbe de Bourbon ; and his desire to possess some remembrance of his beloved protector was but natural. My father could not resist his entreaties, and he gave him the shoes wHich the King had used last, and his collar buckle. He declined to accept any remuneration, and considered himself amply repaid by the abbe's profuse thanks.

29

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE LA ROUERIE CONSPIRACY.

The tribunal instituted on August lO, shortly after the King's death, was replaced by the ' Revolutionary Tribunal,' and the guillotine, which for some days had remained bloodless, was again in daily demand. The executions which took place then are not of sufficient importance to be recorded in these memoirs ; and no name worth mentioning occurs in my notes up to the famous conspiracy of La Rouerie, which aimed at nothing less than the overthrow of the Republic.

The larger portion of the nobility had emigrated ; but a goodly number of seigneurs still remained in France^ These noblemen lived far from each other in their castles and country-seats, and watched with fear the progress of the Revolution. They abhorred the new state of things, and longed to take their revenge ; but

fear kept them apart, andlTieir separation prevented them .

Curiously enough, it was an obscure individual who undertook to bring together all these elements which were hostile to the new regime, and therewith to form in the west of France a league sufficiently powerful to

30 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

destroy the young Republic. This man's name was Tuffin de la Rouerie.

He was one of those bold and active individuals who love adventure. The beginning of his career was very romantic. He entered the army, and, after distinguishing himself as an officer, he became a Trappist. But such a man could riot be content with wearing the cassock ; he left La Trappe, and took part in the American War of Independence.

On his return to France, he showed some favour for the new ideas that were then spreading like wildfire ; the danger of the King, however, excited his imagination, and rekindled his lukewarm loyalty. He went to Coblentz, and proposed to the princes to go and foment an insurrection in Brittany.

La Rouerie returned with a moderate sum of money ; and, with no help beyond his own indomitable will, he undertook to realise the plan he had devised.

The record of his life would fill a volume, during the year he employed in organising the conspiracy which extended over the whole of Brittany, and which but for the death of its originator would have becoir^e one of the most gigantic ever recorded by history. He was everywhere and nowhere ; he was seen in Jersey, in London, in Coblentz, and a few days after his steps were traced in the wilds of Brittany.

The plot was his own work. He confided his secret to no intermediary ; he himself visited the most humble partisans of royalty, raised their courage, and stimulated their zeal. He showed them the King's palace invaded,

1

THE LA ROUERIE CONSPIRACY. 31

the royal family outraged, the King's head covered with the red nightcap. He proved to them the necessity of defending royalty by arms. If age, infirmities, or sex prevented them from joining the civil war, he very cleverly obtained a year of their income for the benefit of the enterprise.

In the month of August 1 792 the nets of the conspiracy extended to all towns, villages, and hamlets in Brittany, and La Rouerie was the only man who held the strings of the plot. His excessive prudence prevented the plot from succeeding, and saved France from great danger. The revolution of August 10 appalled La Rouerie. Until then he had waited for a favourable opportunity. The King was now a prisoner, the Prussians were in full retreat, and he began to fear that the time was past and that it was too late.

Sorrow, excitement, and, above all, the extraordinary fatigues he had endured, had ruined his health ; his ^ame gave way, and he sought shelter at Lamballe ; but suspicious faces having been observed around the house where he was concealed, he sought another refuge, after burying in the garden all the papers he possessed ; and, under the name of Gosselin, he claimed the hospitality of a Breton gentleman of the neighbour- hood, M. Delamotte de Laguyomerais. La Rouerie now felt that he was dying. He revealed his real name to his host, and did not conceal the danger to which his generous hospitality exposed him. Although the local authorities had no knowledge of the extent of the conspiracy, its existence was no secret to them. Two

32 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

of La Rouerie's agents, Latouche and Lalligaud- Moriilon, had sold to Danton the secrets which had been entrusted to them. A reward had been offered for La Rouerie's apprehension. The dying man stoic- ally indicated to his host the precautions he was to take in order to conceal his body and prevent it from being identified ; and shortly afterwards he expired.

M. de Laguyomerais applied to a surgeon of St. Servan, named Lemasson, with whom he was acquainted. The latter disfigured La Rouerie's corpse by numerous incisions, and in the following night the conspirator was deposited in a neighbouring wood, in a hole full of quick- lime.

Unfortunately for M. de Laguyomerais, there was a traitor among his servants ; a certain Chefty denounced him, and the remains of the proscript were discovered. It was ascertained that he had spent several days at Lamballe, at Mdme. de la Fauchais's house ; and a search in this lady's garden led to the discovery of the papery which La Rouerie had consigned to the earth. La Rouerie had, however, destroyed the list of his accomplices. But M. de Laguyomerais, his family and his servants, the surgeon of St. Servan, and a few Breton gentlemen were arrested, sent to Paris, and arraigned before the Revolutionary Tribunal.

The trial began on August 8, and lasted ten days. The two sons of M. de Laguyomerais were discharged ; M. de Laguyomerais himself, and his wife, Marie- Jeanne Micault ; his brother-in-law, Mathurin Micault de Minville ; Mdme. de la Fauchais ; the Abbe Thebaut

THE LA ROUERIE CONSPIRACY. 33

de Lachavenais, tutor of Laguyomerais' sons ; Anne de Pontavis, late officer in the Armagnac regiment ; Picot de Moelan ; Locquer de Granville ; and Gurge de Fontevieux, were sentenced to death ; and on August 1 8 they suffered their fate with the greatest courage.

Shortly before the above affair, another remarkable trial occurred. The Convention had sent to the depart- ment of Jura two of its members, Leonard Bourdon and Prost, with the mission of watching the operation of recruiting. The two delegates had stopped at Orleans, where an attempt was made to murder Bourdon. The Convention, indignant at the treatment offered to one of its members, called the municipality of Orleans before it. Orleans was noted for its lukewarm republic- anism, and the Government deemed it necessary to make an example ; the municipality was suspended, and a number of national guards who had attacked Bourdon were arrested and brought before the Revolu- tionary Tribunal. Four were acquitted, and nine were sentenced to death.

My grandfather received Fouquier-Tinville's injunc- tion to be ready ; but public opinion Was so strongly bent on clemency that Charles Henri Sanson himself, who was rather sceptical in such matters, did not think the execution would take place. Petitions were pre- sented to the Convention in favour of the culprits, but no notice of them was taken, and the nine Orleanese were led to the scaffold. They were no exception to the rule, and died with great firmness.

VOL. II. D

34 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

CHAPTER XXIX.

CHARLOTTE CORD AY.

On July 13, at the very moment when the corpses of the nine Orleanese were being taken to the cemetery of La Madeleine, another representative of the people was murdered. This was Marat, and the hand that dealt the death blow was a woman's.

There lived at Caen a girl named Marie- Anne Char- lotte-de Corday d'Armont. Her family belonged to the aristocracy, and one of her ancestors was one of the greatest national glories of France. Jacques Frangois de Corday d'Armont, her father, was the descendant of Marie Corneille, sister of the author of ' Le Cid.' M. de Corday was poor ; his daughter Charlotte was a child when her mother died, and these circumstances influenced her over- sensitive and enthusiastic nature. She strongly sym- pathised with the Revolution, and it was in a fit of revolutionary fanaticism that she determined to go to Paris and kill Marat, whom she regarded as the worst enemy of the new regime.

She confided her intention to no one, and secretly left Caen for Paris on July 9, and arrived on the nth.

wiMnuoTTS comi

CHARLOTTE CORD AY. 35

On the following day, she went to see Duperret, a member of the Convention, for whom she had a letter. He promised to take her on the following day to the Home Office, where she wished to solicit on behalf of one of her friends, Mdlle. de Forbin. On the Saturday before calling on Duperret at the appointed hour, she wrote a note to Marat, asking for an interview. Charlotte Corday then called on the minister, in her protector's company ; but Duperret was not in favour, and he could not obtain an audience. He accompanied Charlotte as far as the Palais-Royal and left her. When she was alone she entered a cutler's shop, and bought a knife with an ebony handle, and then returned to her hotel, expecting to find there Marat's answer.

Marat was ill ; for some time he had not attended the sittings of the Convention. It seems to have been Charlotte Corday's original idea to strike him in the very assembly of which he was a member ; but his indisposition necessitated a change in her plans. She called at Marat's house on the 13th, but was not admitted. She returned in the evening, and on her assurance that her business was of a pressing nature, she was at length ushered into Marat's presence.

The ' father of the people,' as he was styled, was in his bath. A cloth had been thrown over the bath, and Marat was writing on a board, which he used as a desk. He put a few questions to Charlotte, who suddenly approached the bath ; leaning over Marat she struck him with her knife. The blow was dealt with such force that the weapon entered Marat's bosom up to the

36 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

handle. Marat uttered a cry and expired almost in- stantly.

His .shriek for help brought in a commissionnaire named Laurent Basse, and two female attendants. Charlotte Corday was standing near the window, and did not try to escape. The commissionnaire struck her down with a chair ; she rose, but Basse knocked her dowTi a second time, and held her to the ground, while the two attendants and a surgeon were carrying Marat to his bed. A number of national guards came up, and Charlotte Corday was arrested.

The news was soon known at large, and an immense crowd assembled around Marat's dwelling, clamouring for the assassin's head. It was not deemed prudent to take Charlotte to prison until popular effer\'escence had subsided ; she was therefore incarcerated in Marat's apartment, where Guellard du Mesnil, a commissary of f)ohce, questioned her. She answered all questions with a calmness and dignity which never forsook her until her death. A few hours after, she was taken to the Prison de I'Abbaye, where the members of the Committee of Public Safety' interrogated her several times.

Charlotte appeared before the Revolutionar}- Tri- bunal on July 17. She showed, great firmness during the trial, the result of which, of course, was a foregone con- clusion. After the jury had given in a verdict of death, she asked the gendarmes to take her to her counsel, M. Chauveau de la Garde, whom she heartily thanked for his services. Charlotte Corday was then trans- ferred to her cell, whence she was soon to be led to the

I

JEAN PAUL MAJLAT ' THK FKorLs's runD

CHARLOTTE CORDAY. 37

Place de la Revolution. A priest came forward, but she firmly although courteously declined his services.

She had hardly been ten minutes in her cell when a painter, who had commenced a sketch of her in the course of the trial, entered and asked her permission to finish it Charlotte readily acquiesced. During the sitting, which lasted an hour and a half, the unfortunate creature conversed freely with the artist, and she evinced neither surprise nor fear when the door was again thrown open, to admit the clerks of the court and the executioner. My grandfather had brought the red shirt reserved for parricides, which Charlotte Corday was to wear on her way to the guillotine.

In a preceding chapter I stated that Charles Henri Sanson had, during a period of the revolutionary crisis, kept_a__diary, not only of executions but also of his personal impressions. This record only became regular towards the end of Brumaire 1793 ; but my grandfather wrote a circumstantial account of Charlotte Corday's execution. I give it here in full :

'On this day, Wednesday, July 17, first year of the one and indivisible Republic, I executed Charlotte Corday, of Caen, who murdered the patriot Marat, member of the Convention.

' On Wednesday, 17th, as above, at ten o'clock in the morning, I went to take the orders of Citizen Fouquier- Tinville. Citizen Fouquier was busy ; he sent word for me to wait. Meanwhile I went out, and had some breakfast. At one o'clock in the afternoon a citizen who had just left the Tribunal told me that the girl was

38

MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

convicted. I made haste back, and met Citizen Fouquier in the witnesses' room. He was quarreUing with Citizen Montane, whom he charged with being too favourable to the accused. They entered a private room, and remained there an hour and a half. On reappearing, Citizen Fouquier saw me and said angrily, " What are you dally- ing here for } " I answered that he had given me no orders. Citizen Fabricius handed me a copy of the judgment, and we went to the Conciergerie together. I spoke to Richard, the gaoler, and observed that his wife was pale and frightened. I enquired whether she was unwell. She said, " Wait a moment, and perhaps your heart will fail you too." Richard conducted us to the cell occupied by the culprit. Citizens Tirrasse and Monet, the clerks of the Tribunal, entered first. I remained on the threshold. In the cell were two persons, a gendarme, and a citizen who was finishing Charlotte Corday's portrait. She was writing something on the back of a 4DOok. She looked in my direction, and asked me to wait. When she had finished. Citizens Tirrasse and IMonet read out the judg- ment, and meanwhile Charlotte Corday folded the paper on which she had written and gave it to Citizen Monet, requesting him to hand it to Pontecoulant, the deputy. She then removed her chair to the middle of the room^ toolT^fif h^r cap, sat down, and told me to cut her hair. Since M. de la Barre I had not seen courage equal to^ JiersT^Ve were, in all, six or seven men, whose profes- sion was anythingJbut_softening ; and yet she was"Tess moved than we were. WhenTier hair was cropped, she gave a part of it to the artist who had taken her portrait,

.U)(\Ll

CHARLOTTE CORD AY. 39

and handed the remainder to Richard, the gaoler, re- \ ^ questing him to give it to his wife. I gave her the red shirt, which she arranged herself. As I was preparing to pinion her, she asked me whether she could keep her gloves, because those who had tied her when she was arrested had tightened the cords so much that her skin was broken. I answered that she could do as she liked, but that I could pinion her without hurting her. She smiled and said, " To be sure you ought to know how to do it ! " and held out her naked hands. We entered the cart, which contained two chairs, one of which I pre- sented to her. She declined, and I told her that she was right, as the jolting of the cart was less trying in an erect position. She smiled, but was silent. There was thunder and rain when we reached the quays, but the crowd was as thick as ever. There had been a good many cries on our leaving the Conciergerie ; but these cries became less and less numerous as we advanced. Insults came only from those who marched around the cart. At a win- dow in the Rue St. Honore, I recognised Citizens Robes- pierre, Camille, Desmoulins, and Danton, members of the Convention. Citizen Robespierre appeared very excited, and spoke a great deal to his companions ; but the latter, and particularly Citizen Danton, did not seem to hear him, so attentively did they look at the culprit. I myself often turned round to look at her. And the more I saw of her the more I wished to see. It was not on account of her personal beauty, great as that was ; but I thought it was_ impossible that she could remain so calm and courageous as I saw her ; yet what I hitherto considered as beyond

40 , MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

the strength of human nerve happened. During the two hours I spent in her company I could detect no sign of anger or indignation on her face. She did not speak ; she looked, not at those who insulted her, but at the citizens who were at the windows. The crowd was so

dense that our cart advanced very slowly. As she was sighing, I said to her : "■ You find the way very long, I fear .^" " No matter," she replied ; "we are sure to reach the scaffold sooner or later." I rose as we reached the Place de la Revolution, and stood before her, in order to conceal the sight of the scaffold from her; but she insisted on looking at the machine, saying, " I have a right to be curious ; this is the first time I see it ! " In stepping out of the cart, I perceived that unknown individuals had mingled with my assistants. While I was requesting the gendarmes to clear the place, Charlotte Corday nimbly ascended the steps of the guillotine. On reaching the platform, Fermin, one of my men, suddenly snatched away her neckerchief, and she stretched out on the weigh-plank of her own accord. Although I was not ready, I thought it would be barbarous to prolong the poor girl's sufferings, even for a second, and I made a sign to Fermin, who pulled the rope. I was still at the foot of the scaffold when one of those who had tried to meddle with a business which was not theirs, a carpenter named Legros, picked up Charlotte Corday's head and showed it to the people. Although I was used to this kind of thing, I could not help turning away. It was by the murmurs of the . crowd that I became aware that the rascal had struck

CHARLOTTE CORD AY. 41

the head ; and I was afterwards told that the face turned red, as if resenting the insult. When I went home, the prediction of Richard's wife was realised. As I was sitting down, my wife said to me, " What is the matter with you — why are you so pale ? " '

My grandfather wrote to the papers, contradict- ing the statement that the perpetrator of the outrage he has just related was one of his assistants. The Revolutionary Tribunal ordered Legros to be arrested, and publicly reprimanded him.

42 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

CHAPTER XXX.

CUSTINE.

After the painful execution of the preceding chapter, we again relapse into 'unimportant executions) but the quantity makes up for the quality.

On July 1 8 Joseph Mazellier, late officer in the cavalry regiment of Royal-Piemont, convicted of emigra- tion and condemned to death by the Revolutionary Tribunal, was executed.

On the 19th a working man, Jean Pierre Pelletier, was sent to the scaffold for endeavouring to pass a forged assignat, which he knew to be spurious.

On the 20th, 24th, and 25th three emigrants suffered ; these were Louis Charles de Malherbe, late infantry officer; Joseph Frangois Coquard, and Francois Charles Coquereau, also officers. Malherbe was barely twenty years of age.

On the 27th Riche Thomas St. Martin perished for the crime of forgery.

At this time the Tribunal was modified in a manner, which promised a still more j>lentiful harvest of heads. The Committee of Public Safety divided it into two sections, and raised to thirty the number of the judges.

CUSTINE. 43

Montane, the president of the Tribunal, had himself been arraigned before the second section for favouring Char- lotte Corday. He was, however, g^quitted.

From the ist to the 17th of August the two sections sent to the guillotine Pierre Maurice Collinet de la Salle-Souville, late lieutenant-general, for corresponding with his_ nephews, who had emigrated; Charles Joseph Lescuyer, late general of the Belgian cavalry, convicted of complicity with Dumouriez ; Jean-Baptiste Tourtier^ a ci-deyant_\ Andre Jonas, a gendarme of the twenty- ninth division, for saying in a cafe that when he heard_of the King's death he wanted to leave his regiment, in order not to serve the Republic ; and an emigrant priest, Jean-Joseph Saunier.

On the 15th General Custine appeared before the Tribunal.

Republican enthusiasm would not admit that the soldiers of liberty could be conquered otherwise than by treason. This profound and sincere faith in the para- mount power of right was the element of the triumphs of the Republic, and the principle of its future grandeur. Unfortunately the generals of the French army were far from sharing the sublime confidence. They were for the most part old officers, who believed in nothing beyond discipline, tactics, and regular battles, and who smiled when they read the messages in which the Conven- tion decreed victory. The result was that the move- ment of retreat was followed by an outburst of popular indignation, and the unlucky general was usually charged with wilful neglect of duty.

44 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS,

Dumouriez's treason unfortunately justified this national mistrust. As to Custine, who commanded the army of the North, he had not deemed it prudent to re- lieve besieged_ Valenciennes until his troops were re- organised. He was charged with treason, and arraigned before the Revolutionary Tribunal.

Popular irritation was very great against him. There can be no doubt that Custine was not faultless, but his last campaign had not been without glory. While man- oeuvring on the flanks of the Prussian army which Dumouriez was opposing, he had captured Worms, Frankental, Regensburg, Frankfort, &c. ; but he was with reason charged with not having turned these advantages to profit, and thereby transformed the retreat of the Prussians into a rout. He had allowed the enemy to recapture Frankfort ; he had insufficiently victualled Regensburg, in which Kleber was bravely holding out. Such mistakes were murderous to Kleber's military repute, but they did not deserve death. The Tribunal remained undecided for some time, for the trial lasted not less than fourteen days. But Custine was not liked, and the then powerful Hebert was his mortal foe. Custine nevertheless re- tained his presence of mind ; he explained his military operations, and his counsel, Trenson Ducoudray, spoke eloquently in his favour.

The Tribunal retired after these two speeches, and on returning gave a verdict of guilty on all counts. Custine could not jwithhold an expression_ofdespair when sentence of death was passed, He recovered his

seH-possession^, however, and a touching letter_ta—

■^A

-A-

CUSTINE. 45

his_son^jhen a prisoner at La Fo^. The execution was appointed to take place on the following day, August 28, at twelve. At nine o'clock Charles Henri Sanson entered Custine's prison. He found him on his . :>^ knees^raying with the Abbe Lothringer, metropolitan vicar, whose assistance he had asked for. The priest requested my father to wait outside for a few minutes. Shortly after, Custine himself came to fetch him. Custine's countenance was firm ; but it was easy to perceive that he was labouring under nervous prostration. His hair was cut ; afterwhjch he assumed his uniform, .'~"^. saying that it___^was thus a French general should die. rwo ,/ He asked that his hands should only be tied at the . ^^ foot of the scaffold, and his petition was granted.

He walked to the cart so rapidly that the Abbe Lothringer and the executioners had some trouble in keeping up with him. When the gloomy procession appeared in the street, there was as usual a loud clamour. General Custine turned very pale, and said several times : ' These are the very people who used to applaud my victories ! ' As the cries became more vociferous, he added : ' This is the reward of my services I ' and the name of Dumouriez came to his lips. The Abbe Lothringer besought him to be resigned. Custine's eyes filled with tears, and he began to read in the prayer- book offered to him by the priest.

The stoicism displayed by Charlotte Corday had spoilt the mob. Her gentle and contemptuous attitude was well remembered, and the people doubtless expected that the general of their army would exhibit a disdain

46

MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

rhmtc

'Alffic4

for death still more superb. The sight of a pale old man plunged in prayer, instead of what was expected, excited popular fury, and cries and curses became universal.

When the cart halted before the scaffold, Custine turned round, not to see the instrument of death. His features were so discomposed that my grandfather thought he was going to faint ; the priest was under the same impression, for he bent towards the general's ear, and said to him in German : ' General, 'tis only death, which you defied a hundred times on the battle- field ; and yet you were not then, as you are now, ready to appear before your God.' The general shook his head, and then taking his confessor's hand : * You are right,' said he, ' and yet I am sorry a Prussian cannon ball did not do the work.' He then looked at the k«^, which glittered under the mid-day sun. While his hands were being tied, he asked that he should be allowed to hold the prayer-book to the last. He then ascended with a firm step the steps of the scaffold, and his head fell under the knife, into the basket, a few seconds after. ^i^ It may be justifiable to doubt Custine's genius as a general ; but it is impossible to deny him the first of military virtues, courage ; his was proverbial in the French army. And yet he did not encounter death with the calm bravery which we found among ordinary citizens, whose profession and habits were quite peace- ful, and even among women. This phenomenon shows the difference that exists between nervous excitement, which can make a hero of a man, and the manly forti-

CUSTINE. 47

tude which remains unshaken, even by the most hideous j i/yvW^ of deaths. It shows the superiority of civil over miHtary j "^ courage. '

The importance of Custine's trial had retarded the progress of another case, that of twenty-one inhabitants of Rouen, accused of having incited their countrymen to civil war, of having harboured the white cockade, and sawed the tree of liberty. This interesting case was resumed on the morrow of the general's death. Ten, among whom were two women, were sentenced to death and guillotined.^

The 1 6th of Vendemiaire following was a noteworthy! day in the history I am now writing. Until then the' Republic had only struck its enemies ; on the i6th of Vendemiaire she began her self-destruction by slaying one of those who had powerfully contributed to her establishment. Gorsas, deputy and journalist, whose lawsuit with my grandfather the reader may remember, was the first member of the Convention who ascended the scaffold, where the most illustrious among his colleagues were soon to follow him. Gorsas had evaded the arrest decreed on June 2 against him and his friends of the Gironde. Pethion, Barbaroux, Louvet, and several others had gone into the provinces to raise an insurrection against the autocracy of the capital ; Gorsas had refused to join them. He was an ardent writer, a tribune of the press, and he understood that his

' Here the translator has omitted a long list of executions which, be- yond testifying to the completeness of the present Memoirs, offer no par- ticular interest.

48

MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

strength was in Paris. The decree of July 28, describing as a crime the contempt showed by the Girondins for the so-called national authority, had declared them out- laws. Peril could not induce Gorsas to leave Paris ; for three months he lived in hiding, but he was at length arrested. He was taken before the Revolutionary Tribunal, and from thence to the scaffold.

Gorsas was brave to the last. When my grandfather saw his former enemy, he tried to avoid being seen by him ; but Gorsas espied him at the foot of the scaffold, and cried to him in a loud voice :

' Why do you stand aside. Citizen Sanson } Come and enjoy your triumph. We thought we were over- throwing the Monarchy : we have only founded your reign.'

My grandfather made no reply and looked down. Indeed he was beginning to have enough of his royalty.

FROM THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTCINETTE."

MARIE-ANTOINETTE AND HER CHILDREN.

49

CHAPTER XXXI.

THE QUEEN,

However enthusiastic a great many people may be respecting the general results of the Revolution, it seems to me impossible to think without some emotion of a Queen who in less than a year was deprived of her throne and liberty — of a woman widowed by the executioner's axe, separated from her children, and treated with revolting indignity. When, in my young days, I used to accompany my father to the Conciergerie prison, I never passed before the unfortunate Queen's cell without feeling deeply moved. When I looked at the black and rusty door behind which Marie Antoinette had been imprisoned for two months, I hastily walked away, seeing in m.y mind's eye the awful tragedy which had been partly enacted in the gloomy prison.

After the death of Louis XVI. the royal captives of the Temple had not been forgotten. The hatred of the Parisians against the King was wholly political ; it was aimed at the King, not at the man. Against Marie Antoinette popular hatred was both political and per- sonal. The Queen had found implacable enemies, not VOL. II. E

50 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

only among the Revolutionists who wished to overthrow the Monarchy, but among her own courtiers, and even in the ranks of her own family. None could forgive her independent mind, her elegant tastes, her liking for amusements forbidden by etiquette. By traducing her sentiments, by incriminating her acts, her enemies had rendered her odious to all other womem The Revolu- tionists knew the Queen to be far more energetic than Louis XVI.; they understood that if some resistance was to be offered to their designs, such resistance must come from Marie Antoinette, and they gave her out as the bitterest enemy of liberty. They styled her the ghoul of France, and the accomplice of the foreigner. Una- nimity in hostile feelings was the cause of unanimity in the calumnies wherewith the Queen was assailed. On several occasions the name of the captive Queen was pronounced in the Convention, and then the violent party of which Hebertwas leader asked for the arraign- ment of the widow of Capet.

Public opinion was getting too strong for the Con- vention. On August 4 a decree sent her before the Revolutionary Tribunal, and on the 14th of the same month she was sentenced to death, after a trial which is too well known for me to recall the circumstances which attended the melancholy affair. I have occasion- ally related at length the events of a criminal's career which led to the executioner's intervention, but only when I might reasonably think that the reader was not previously acquainted with them. In Marie Antoinette's case, my relation can only dwell upon the time that

THE QUEEN, 51

elapsed between her condemnation and execution. Charles Henri Sanson did not leave us a complete account of the Queen's death ; and the omission, which I cannot explain, is very much to be regretted. The following relatioiij^ however, I had from my father^ who had thgn reached manhood^ and who n^inally asgigl:g'l:g2y grandfather in the discharge of his functions.

Charles Henri Sanson was present at the Queen's trial. No sooner was the verdict given than he tapped at the door of Fouquier-Tinville's closet. Fouquier told him to come in, and he found himself in the presence of Herman, the president of the court, Renaudin, a judge, Nicolas, also a judge, and Fabricius Paris, the clerk of the court. Fouquier immediately enquired whether prepara- tions for Xh^ fete (that was the word he used) were com- plete. Charles Henri Sanson having responded that his duty was to await the decisions of Justice, and not anti- cipate them, Fouqukrjupbraided him with his usual vio- lence. Fabricius, the clerk, mingled his merry jokes with the public prosecutor's invectives. The conversation was assuming a disagreeable turn. To put an end to it, my grandfather asked for an order to procure a closed carriage similar to that in which the King had been I taken to the guillotine. This request thoroughly ex- asperated Fouquier-Tinville ; he answered that Charles » Henri himself deserved to perish on the scaffold for daring to make such a suggestion, and that a cart was quite good enough for the Austrian. But Renaudin observed that before taking any decision it was desirable to consult the Committee of Public Safety, or some of its

52

MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

members ; and after some discussion Fouquier acquiesced. Nourry, alias Grammont, formerly^n actor of the_Mon- tansler Theatre, had just entered. He undertook the errand, and on returning said that he had consulted Robespierre and CoUot, but that neither would give an opinion on the matter, on the plea that Fouquier had power to act as he thought fit. It was finally- decided that the Queen should be taken to the scaffold in a cart.

It was five o'clock in the morning when my grand- father left the Tribunal. All were asleep when he entered his house. He made only a short appearance in his bedroom, and was walking out on tiptoe, for fear of waking his wife, when the latter, who slept lightly, called him to her bedside, and, on looking in his face, she at once guessed the issue of the Queen's trial. She was so deeply affected that Charles Henri had to call his son to his assistance. He dared not let any one else see her. Her tears were a_crime in the eyes of the man in power, and most of his assistants tried to obliterate the dis- honour of their profession by the fervency of their democratic opinions.

This occurrence so unmanned Charles Henri Sanson, that his son prepared to accompany him. So they went together to the Place de la Revolution, to see that the scaffold was in good order.; and from thence they re- paired to the Conciergerie, where they arrived at ten o'clock. The prison was already surrounded by armed men. My father and grandfather were joined by citizen Eustache Nappier, one of the ushers of the Revolu-

THE QUEEN.

53

tionary Tribunal, who was to be present throughout the proceedings.

They entered the prison, and were taken to the Queen's presence. Marie Antoinette was in the * Hall

ofjthe Dead.' reclining on a seat, her head against the wall ; the two gendarmes who watched her were stand- ing within a few steps, with Bault, the turnkey, whose daughter was standing before Marie Antoinette, weeping bitterly.

When the messengers of death entered, the Queen rose and made a step to meet them, but she was stopped by Bault's daughter, whom she embraced with much tenderness. She wore a white dress : a white hand-

kerchief covered her shoulders ; and her hair was sur- mounted by a cap tied with a black ribbon. She was pale, but not out of apprehension, for her lips were red and her eyes brilliant.

My grandfather and father took their hats off; many others bowed ; Nappier the usher, and a few gendarmes, were the only persons who abstained from giving so slight a token of deference. Before any one had time to speak, the Queen advanced, and in a dry voice she said :

' Gentlemen, I am ready. We can set out.'

Charles Henri Sanson observed that a few formali- ties had yet to be fulfilled. Marie Antoinette showed the back of her neck, where the hair had been cut.

' That will do, I think t ' said she to him.

At the same time she held out her hands for him to bind them. While my father was so occupied, the Abbe

a

54

MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

■A

W

Lothrlnger entered the room and asked her leave to accompany her. The abbe, who had taken the oath of fidelity to the Republic, had already proffered his services, but they had been declined. His repeated request visibly displeased the Queen, who however answered :

* You can come with me if you like.' ^ The cortege immediately moved forward. The gendarmes preceded the queen, by whose side was the abbe ; behind came the clerk, the executioners, and more gendarmes. ,

On reaching the court, Marie Antoinette saw the cart ; she came to a sudden halt, and a strong feeling of horror appeared on her features. She, however, mastered her emotion, and was helped up by my grandfather and his son. The gates were slowly opened, and the Queen of France appeared before the people. There was an immense clamour of maledictions, a torrent of curses, and cries of ' Death ! ' The crowd was so compact that the cart could hardly move, and the horse reared and backed. There was so terrible a moment of confusion that both my grandfather and father rose and placed them- selves before Marie Antoinette. At two different points men had broken through the rank of the escort, and instead of driving them back, or trying to calm popular effervescence, the gendarmes joined in their vocifera- tions. The son of Nourry-Grammont, who, like his father, was an officer in the army, had the cowardice to threaten the Queen's face with his clenched fist. The Abb6 Lothringer pushed him back, and upbraided him for his unworthy conduct.

THE QUEEN.

1%

This scene lasted two or three minutes. Never, myl fatherjoften toldjne^ appear morej

dignifiedjdian ^^didjhen. Grammont, the father, went forward with a few horsemen and cleared the way. From time to time cries and curses partly subsided.' A few cries of ' Death to the A iistrian ! Death to Madame Veto ! ' rose from the crowd ; but these ex- clamations became rarer and rarer.

Marie Antoinette stood erect in the cart ; the Abbe r^t^^ Lothringer was speaking to her, but she did not answer, MjtA.sRi and did not even seem to hear him. When the Palais Egalite was passed, she began to manifest some uneasiness. She looked at the numbers of the houses with more than commonplace curiosity. The Queen had foreseen thatf no priest of her religion would be^allowed to accompany^ ^ her ; and a proscribed ecclesiastic, with whom she had

communicated, had promised to be in a house of the

Rue St. Honord on the day of the execution, and to

give her from a window absolution in extremis. The number of the house had been designated to Marie Antoinette, and that was what she was looking for. She discovered it ; and then, at a sign which she alone under- stood, having recognised the priest, she bent her head and prayed. After this she breathed more freely, and a smile came to her lips.

On reaching the Place de la Revolution, the cart halted precisely ojpposite the large walk of the Tulleries ; for a few moments the Queen was plunged in painful contemplation ; her colour faded away, her eyelids trem- bled, and she was heard to murmur :

56 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

\

* My daughter ! my children ! *_ The sight of the scaffold recalled her to herself, and

she prepared to descend. My grandfather and my father supported her. As she placed her foot on the ground, Charles Henri Sanson, who was bending towards her, said in her ear :

* Have courage, Madame ! ' The Queen looked round, as if surprised to find

pity in the heart of the man who was about to put her to death, and answered : ' Thank you, sir, thank you.'

A few yards separated the cart from the guillotine. My father offered to continue to support her, but she declined, saying :

'■ No ; I am, thank Heaven, strong enough to walk that short distance.*

She advanced slowly, but with a firm step, and mounted the scaffold as majestically as if the steps of the guillotine had been those_of_the grand staircase at Versailles.

Her arrival on the platform produced some confusion. The Abbe Lothringer, who had followed her, was going on with his useless exhortations. My father thrust him aside, wishing to finish the execution without the loss of ffliZ iW'^Vi^ second. The assistants took possession of Marie jjj^jOJjJ^ I Antoinette. While they were tying her down to the '^jAk iweigh-plank, sEe'exclaimed, in aloud voice : tiHK\iOy^^ * Farewell^my children; I am going to join your y^f ^iatheiT^ l/jivVU-i< 1 'pj^g plank was replaced in its original position.

ia>Wvva)1

THE QUEEN. 57

and the knife came down upon the neck with a heavy thump.

Some cries of * Vive la Republiqite !' were heard around the scaffold, and Grammont ordered Charles Henri ta showjhe head to the people. One of the assistants went through the horrible formality. The Queen^s_body was. placed in a coffin of common wood and burnt in quick- lime^in the cemetery of La Madeleine. Her clothing was given to the poor. ,

58 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE GIRONDINS.

After the Queen's trial came that of the inhabitants of Armentieres, charged with conspiracy with the enemy, with the purpose of betraying the town into their hands. Six prisoners were discharged : but Pierre Frangois MaHngie, {oxm.^x\y juge-de-paix of Armentieres ; Pellerin Guy Jouar, merchant ; Joseph Delattre, merchant ; and Paul Francois Clarisse, hatter, were sentenced to capital punishment, and executed on the 27th of Ven- demiaire.

On the 1st of Brumaire (October 22) came the turn of Louis Armand Pernon, manager of the national pot- tery, charged with having corresponded with the rebels of Lyons ; and on the 2nd that of Pierre Hippolyte Pastourel, a priest.

On the 5th the Tribunal sent an emigre, Jacques^ Andre Frangois d'Ouzonville, and his wife, to the guillo- tine. Public attention at the time forsook the Place de la Revolution, engrossed as it was by a trial of the highest importance — that of the Girondins.

This trial was as loudly asked for by the clubs and the Commune as that of the Queen had been ; but the charge

THE GIRONDINS. 59

against the deputies, arrested on account of their moderate and just republicanism, was difficult to make out. Those of the Girondins who had not taken to flight had committed no reprehensible act. In this predica- ment it was resolved to consider their opinions as being criminal, and the accusation was drawn up. Fouquier- Tinville received it on the 1 2th of Brumaire, and on the 1 3th the prisoners were transferred from the Prison des Carmes to laConciergerie, the lastjialting-place on the way to the _scaffold^

The flight of Petion, Barbaroux, Guadet, and a few others, had left a gap in the ranks of the twenty- arraigned deputies ; to complete the figure consecrated by the insurrection of June 2, other deputies were chosen among those who had since then been arrested, and twenty-one prisoners, who with Gorsas (who had been executed some time before) made up the requisite number, appeared before the Revolutionary Tribunal.

These were :

Jean Pierre Brissot, aged 39, man of letters and deputy of Eure-et-Loire.

Pierre Victorin Vergniaud, aged 35, deputy of la Gironde.

Arnaud Gensonne, aged 35, deputy of la Gironde.

Claude Romain Loze Duperret, aged 46, deputy of Bouches-du-Rhone.

Jean Louis Carra, aged 50, man of letters and deputy of Saone-et-Loire.

Jean Francois Martin Gardien, aged 39, deputy of Indre-et-Loire.

6o MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

Charles Eldonore Dufriche Valaze, aged 42, deputy of Orne.

Jean Duprat, aged 38, deputy of Bouches-du-Rh6ne.

Charles Alexis Bruslard (formerly Marquis de Sillery), aged 57, deputy of laSomme.

Charles Fauchet, aged 49 (formerly a bishop), deputy of Calvados.

Jean Frangois Ducos, aged 28, man of letters, deputy of la Gironde.

Marie David Lasource, aged, 39, deputy of Tarn.

Benoit Lesterpt-Beauvais, aged 43, deputy of Haute- Vienne.

Gaspard Du Chastel, aged 27, deputy of Deux- Sevres.

Pierre Mainvieille, aged 28, deputy of Bouches-du- Rh6ne.

Jacques Lacase, aged 42, deputy of la Gironde.

Pierre Lehardy, aged 35, deputy of Morbihan.

Jacques Boileau, aged 41, deputy of Yonne.

Charles Louis Antiboul, aged 40, deputy of Van

Louis Frangois Sebastin Vigie, aged iG, deputy of Mayenne-et-Loire.

On the 3rd of Brumaire they appeared before the Tribunal. Fabricius, the clerk of the court, read the indictment, in which it was attempted to show that the accused had conspired against the unity and indivisi- bility of the Republic and the safety of the nation. Most of the witnesses heard for the prosecution were those who had directed the revolutionary movement of May 31, and whose hostility to the Girondins was manifest

THE GIRONDINS. 6r

and well known. The trial, which lasted several days, was a kind of farce. It is not within my province to relate it, and I will therefore pass it over. When the jury had delivered a verdict of guilty against all the arraigned Girondins, the latter were brought in to receive sen- tence. They had^hown indomitable courage during the whole trial, _and few among them yielded to despair or discouragement. Boileau threw up his hat, exclaiming : * I die innocent.' Sillery, who was lame, threw away his crutches and said : ' This day is the finest in my life.' Boyer Fonfrede embraced Ducos, his brother-in-law, saying : * My friend, I led you to this.' Fauchet and Duprat were rather cast down ; but Carra retained his self-possession ; Lasource addressed a few words to the jury, that could not be heard in the tumult then pre^ vailing ; as to Vergniaud, the noblest and most eloquent of ail, he lost nothing of the admirable serenity he had displayed throughout the ordeal ; then all rose simul- taneously, crying * Vive la Repuhliqiie ! we are inno- cent ! ' A cry of death, however, rose higher than this clamour ; a voice said ' I am dying.' The president of the Tribunal directed the gendarmes to lead away the prisoners. One, however, did not move ; it was Dufriche Valaze who had said ' I am dying,' after stabbing himself to the heart.

This painful scene had created the utmost confusion. Camille Desmoulins, who was present, ran out of the hall in an agony of grief, charging himself with the death of the Girondins. The foreman of the jury was as pale as death. Fouquier-Tinville, the public prosecutor, alone was calm.

62

MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

In a cold voice he asked that Valaze's corpse should be placed in one of the executioner's carts, to be burned 'i/nico j with the bodies of his 'accomplices' after execution. ^ YhjhjL ^^ early as the 8th of Brumaire, that is to say four t4^r/lM?<iays before the actual condemnation of the Girondins, Fouquier-Tinville had directed the executioner to pro- vide for the emergency of an extraordinary execution. My grandfather had therefore sought assistants. By a singular contrast, which shows the instinctive horror of the masses for the punishment which was then so fre- quently inflicted, he had the greatest difficulty in recruit- ing auxiliaries for the service of the scaffold. Fouquier had informed my grandfather that at least twelve assist- ants were necessary. Charles Henri, with the greatest trouble, found three men ; and as he was going in quest of another man, a protege of Hebert presented himself, /and proposed to act as executioner's valet. This indi- vidual's garrulity and his grimacing and sinister counte- nance displeased Charles Henri Sanson, who refused to engage him. One of those who were present at the interview assured my grandfather that the man was a mountebank, who, under the name of Jacot, performed on the Boulevard du Temple, and Charles Henri was. congratulating himself on having got rid of him, when Fouquier-Tinville summoned him to his presence, and,, after charging him^ with neglect of duty, ordered him to engage Jacot.

On the following day, lOth Brumaire (October 30), my grandfather passed his auxiliaries in review. They consisted of ten assistants, properly speaking, and five

THE GIRONDINS. 63

cart drivers, with their carts. H^bert's/r^/^^/was present. Charles Henri Sanson thought he perceived a red waist-- coat under his carmagnole^ but he paid Httle attention to the circumstance. At eight o'clock in the morning' he set out for the Conciergerie with my father and six assistants ; two more went to the Place de la Revolution, and two remained to take care of the carts ; Jacot was one of the latter. A great many soldiers already surrounded the prison. Two clerks of the Tribunal, Nappier and Monet (the same who had attended Charlotte Corday to the scaffold), had already arrived, and were waiting for the executioner in the porter's lodge. They repaired together to the Palais de Justice, where they took their final orders; and then they prepared to appear before the unfortunate Girondins.

It had been decided that preparations for the execution should take place in the parlour of the prison — a lofty dark hall, which people were beginning to call the * Hall of the Dead,' since it served as an antechamber of the

scaffold. When my grandfather entered with his men and the gendarmes, the convicts were already assembled there. They formed several groups ; some were pacing the hall ; others formed circles ; all of them spoke with much animation, like friends who were about to be sepa- rated by a long voyage. Brulard, Sillery, and Bishop Fauchet, conversed in a low voice in a dark corner ; Mainvieille was writing on his knees. The corpse of Valaze had been deposited on three stools before the window. At the sight of the sinister cortege, they uttered a confused exclamation, and some of them rushed into

64 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

each other's arms and embraced. Nappier, the clerk, called out the names of the convicts, and at each name one of the Girondins answered ' Present ! ' and several added a few words of irony.

' Present ! ' said Vergniaud ; ' if our blood can cement liberty, we welcome you.'

* I don't like long speeches ; I am no adept in the art of outraging reason and justice,' cried Ducos, sar- castically quoting Robespierre's very words. Nappier having roughly interrupted him, he added, with a burst of laughter : * Well, present, without phrases.'

Duperret, instead of answering, impeached the town of Paris, saying that its representatives were murdering the most devoted patriots. Brissot, one of the most dis- tinguished Girondins, was gloomy ; Vergniaud spoke to him for some time with vehemence, but all that could be heard of what he said were the often repeated words of republic and liberty. When the nominal appeal was terminated, all the convicts, with equal enthusiasm, cried * Vive la Republiqtte!'

The sight of these men, whose last cry was a glorifi- cation of the Republic in the name of which they were being sent to the guillotine, was awful and impressive. Often has my father, when he was giving me the above details, repeated that no execution ever moved him ■ more. The toilet began ; during this preliminary prepa- ration the Girondins remained serene and self-possessed. My grandfather and my father cut their hair ; the assist- ants bound their hands. They came forward without any affectation or bravado, and continued to converse.

THE GIRONDINS.

65

As Duprat was about to sit down on the stool, Main- vieille approached, holding the letter he had been writing. He handed it to his companion, together with a pen, saying to my father :

' You will allow us to devote a few moments to our family affairs, I hope ? '

Duprat then added a few words to the letter, which was addressed to a woman whom they both loved.

Ducos was the last who underwent the toilette, and it was my father who cut his hair. Fonfrede, his brother- in-law, stood behind him. During the operation a few hairs, which were caught between the scissors, were torn out. Ducos could not refrain from making a movement, and while his hands were being tied he said to my father :

* I hope the edge of your guillotine is sharper than your scissors ! '

When all were ready, my grandfather gave the signal for departure. Some of the gendarmes had already descended the stairs which led to the entrance of the prison. The convicts pressed around Vergniaud, and seemed to wish to confer upon him the honour of marching first ; but Vergniaud, pointing to Valaze s body, which two assistants were placing on a tressel : * He preceded us in death,' said he in a grave voice ; ' he must show us the way.'

All then stood back at his bidding, and the corpse

was borne away. The Girondins followed. Nappier,

the clerk of the court, had arranged that they should be

placed in the carts according to the order of their names

VOL. II. F

66 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

in the judgment ; but the confusion which attended the- departure prevented the execution of a measure which might have deprived some of the Girondins of the suprenie;^ consolation of confiding their Jast^ thoughts to a personal friend. They entered the carts they preferred, and found themselves thus distributed : Gensonne, Carra,. Duperret, Lasource, and Duchatel in the first cart \. Brissot, Vergniaud, Ducos, Boyer-Fonfrede, and Vigie in the second ; Gardien, Mainvieille, Duprat, Fauchet, Sillery, and Lasource, in the third ; Antiboul, Boileau, Lehardy, and Beauvais in the fourth. My grandfather and my father were in the first two carts, and an assistant in each of the other carts ; each of them held the end of the cord which communicated with the wrists of the convicts. Contrary to what has been said by some historians, there was no convict in the fifth cart, which was reserved for the body of Valaze.

The sky was dark and rainy ; a foggy atmosphere covered the town ; nevertheless, an immense _gxLwd_ filled the streets. More curiosity than passion was displayed by the public. Few were conscious of the importance of the sacrifice which was about to be made ; but few also seemed to share the violent sentiments expressed at the Club des Jacobins and in the Con- vention. Silence was generally preserved on the way ; but, as usually occurred when illustrious victims were being led to death, a gang of men and women had mingled with the cortege, and gave vent to furious ex- clamations. Scarcely had the carts reached the Quai de la Conciergerie when my grandfather became aware that his new assistant, Jacot, had taken off his cartnag-

THE GIRONDINS. 67

nolcy under which he wore a mountebank's costume ; the wretch had mounted the horse of the^ cart_entrusted to him, and was going through a series of feats of equi- tation, which he only interrupted to address to the crowd ironical remarks relating to the convicts. Charles Henri immediately descended, and endeavoured to drive Jacot away ; but the crowd, and even the gen- darmes, sided with the mountebank, and my grand- father was obliged to return to his cart amidst groans and hisses. The cries of * Vive la Repitbliqtie!' were frequently uttered on the way. Mainvieille and Duprat repeated with the crowd : * Vive la Repiiblique ! ' On two or three occasions only came forth the cry : * Death to traitors ! ' The Girondins heard it without anger ; but a stentorian voice, which came from the fourth cart, exclaimed : * The Republic ! You shall not have it ! * Vergniaud, behind whom was my father, heard the ex- clamation, and cried : * Do not say that ; the Republic costs us dear enough for us to carry away the hope that it shall not be overthrown.'

Not one showed signs of weakness. Vergniaud was grave and collected, and endeavoured to dispel the sinister presentiments of Brissot, who seemed to think that the Republic could not survive their death. Ducos and Boyer-Fonfrede conversed in a low voice ; my father saw tears on the cheeks of the latter. The convicts of the other carts were not less dignified. Twice they struck up the Marseillaise. Ducos, who was only twenty-seven years old, seemed to become more lively and caustic as the fatal moment was drawing near. As

68

MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

the carts reached the Place de la Revolution, he said, looking at the guillotine :

' What a pity it is that the Convention did not decree the unity and indivisibility of our persons ! '

After being placed in a file before the scaffold,

/rbetween two rows of gendarmes, the Girondins embraced,

and were heard encouraging each other to die bravely,

without fear or reproach, as they had lived. Then they once

(yurvij more struck up the Marseillaise, and the sacrifice began.

the first to appear on the platform. He

the scaffold, and bowed four times to the

crowd. He suffered from paralysis and walked with"

\d. VUi! walked around

^•Cfira.rr. .difficulty. One of the assistants having told him to be quick, he answered :

* Can't you wait a moment } I wait also, and yet I ^<^ll7- ^^ i^ ^ greater hurry than you are.' ^^<aAU^'~ As the knife came down, the chorus of the convicts ^ plflMj^'' became stronger. After Sillery came Fauchet ; Carra, '^' "" ' Lesterpt-Beauvais, Duperret, and Lacase followed.

Charles Henri Sanson was superintending the execu-

n^^'w^ tion. Fermin, the head assistant, was pulHng the rope.

' ' My father watched over the removal of the bodies, which

were thrown, two by two, into baskets prepared behind

the guillotine. But when six heads had fallen, the

baskets and the weigh-planks were so saturated that

e)

the contact of the blood must have been more horrible

than death itself to those who were to follow. Charles

Henri Sanson ordered the two assistants to throw pails of water over the plank, and to sponge it after each execution.

The ranks of the convicts were beginning to thin.

THE GIRONDINS, 69

Their chants were diminishing in intensity, but not in vigour. Boileau, Antiboul, Gardien, Lasource, Brissot, one after the other ascended the steps of the scaffold. While Lehardy was being bound to the plank, he cried three times : * Vive la Reptibliqtie ! ' Duprat was executed after him. Before leaving his friends, Ducos embraced Fonfrede, his brother-in-law ; in ascending the steps, he said to my father :

' Ah ! would that your guillotine could kill me at the same time as my brother ! '

He was still speaking when the knife came down upon his neck.

Only six Girondins now remained; but they went on singing. Gensonne, Mainvieille, Boyer-Fonfrede, and Duchatel were executed. Vergniaud and Vigie were still alive. It has been asserted that Vergniaud was the last who died. This is an error. It had been hoped that some of the Girondins would show some symptom of fear, and those who had exhibited the greatest fortitude had been reserved for the last. Nappier, „ ^ tlie clerk, was about to point to Vigie as the next uJ « < victim, when he thought he detected a tremor in his oJUfiYhj)^ voice ; he immediately turned to Vergniaud and told him -^trvryui^ to come forward. Nappier doubtless thought that Vigie, -^Gu^ni being deprived of the support of his friend, would lose courage, ajid jhat the horrible hecatomb would thus_ finish by an exhibition of fear, Nothing of the kind^^ took place. When Vergniaud's corpse had joined those of h|s friends, Vigie came forward with the pride of a ^ conqueror. He was still singing while they were binding him to tKe plank.

MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

The execution lasted forty-three minutes ; that is, a little more than two minutes for each convict.

In the evening of the same day, Charles Henri Sanson complained to Fouquier of the extraordinary conduct of Hebert's/r^/^^/in the hope of getting rid of the ruffian ; he argued that the way to beget sympathy for the condemned was to insult prisoners, as Jacot had done. Fouquier paid no attention to my grand- father's recriminations, and asked him why he did not with his own hand pull the rope which communicated with the knife. My grandfather replied that under the

former regime _it_ was customary ,Jbx., the executioner^

to carry out himself sentences entailing decapitation^ but that since a machine had been substituted for human strength and dexterity, the most important duty^was to watch the preparations and the carrying out..of_an__ execution ; that .the._slightest neglect could give rise to frightful accidents ; and that, as he was personallyure- sponsible, it was only natural that he should see himself to_the superintendence.

Fouquier-Tinville appeared satisfied with these rea- sons; but in sending my grandfather away, he told him that he should keep an eye upon him, and added, with a signi- ficant gesture, that if he did not discharge his duties not only as an experienced executioner, but as a patriot, he, Sanson, might very well change parts, and be executed himself

The result of this conversation was that Jacot was maintained as my grandfather's assistant ; and the man's minister grimaces were repeated in most important execu- itions, to the great satisfaction of the mob.

71

CHAPTER XXXIII.

ADAM LUX.— THE DUKE OF ORLEANS.

From the time of the death of the Girondins. execution.^ became more and more frequent ; the real Reip^n of Terror begao-— ^Not a day passed without the guillotine being- used, and my grandfather and my father had scarcely breathing time. Three executions took place on the nth of Brumaire, and three more on the 1 2th. On the 1 3th the Revolutionary Tribunal sent to the scaffold Qlvinpe de\ Gouges, a woman famous for her talents and courage. She had hailed the Revolution with delight ; but pity soon invaded her heart, and in a fit of generous boldness she wrote to the Convention, to ask leave to defend the King. She then attacked the revolutionary party with such violence that the papers refused to accept any more of her contributions, and she was obliged to use placards as a medium of communication with the public. For this she was incarcerated for five months, tried, and executed.

On the 14th two convicts appeared on the guillotine. One was a woman called Marie Madeleine Contelet. She had been found in possession of a letter in which the Commune and the Convention were spoken of__con-_

?

72 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

temptuously. Thiswas^^enough to ensure a condemna- tion to death. The other convict was Adam Lux, sent by the town of Mayence to solicit the annexation of his- native town to France. Adam Lux was an enthusiastic dreamer, who judged men in the simph'city of his heart and with the sincerity of faith. He beHeved that uni- versal regeneration would succeed to the proclamation of the principles of right and justice. Adam Lux was plunged in deep and dark despair, and was thinking of committing suicide, when he saw Charlotte Corday. He had sought in vain for liberty, but the tenderness which filled his mystic heart could not remain unquenched; he gave himself to the priestess as he had given himself to the goddess. Full of faith in this extraordinary post- humous love, he only wished to join Charlotte in deaths and he lost no opportunity of impeaching and attack- ing the Montagne. He was soon arraigned before the Re- volutionary Tribunal. Nor was he unworthy of Charlotte Corday. After the act of accusation had been read to him, he said to Fouquier-Tinville : ' I am a stranger to- your laws as well as to your crimes ; if I have deserved to perish, it is not among the French that I should suffer.' When sentence was passed he exclaimed : '■ At last I shall be free ! ' He dressed himself with muchi care to proceed to the guillotine, as if hoping that K/^ Charlotte Corday's spirit was waiting for him over the. caffold. His female companion was executed first. Hardly was the body removed when Adam Lux appeared

^TAiXi^^n the platform, and stretched himself out on the plank^

gT|i^ ^ exclaiming * At last 1 '

ADAM LUX.— THE DUKE OF ORLEANS.

75

On the 15th another woman, named Madeleine Kolly^ was executed ; on the i6th it was the turn of one of the/ most famous initiators of the Revolution, Louis Philippe! Joseph d'Orleans. It was in vain that this prince had exchanged his title for the significant name of EgaliU^ that he had given to the Revolution a far more awful guarantee by voting the death of his king and relative ; he had not succeeded in obliterating the recollection of his birth and immense fortune. Justly hated by the Royalists, he had soon embarrassed the Republicans. The Girondins would not believe that patriotism was the only reason for the democratic conversion of a prince of the blood. Ever since the first meeting of the Com tion, they had never ceased to treat him as a pretender.. On the other hand, the Montague was aware that the presence of a Bourbon in its ranks would estrange from it all other revolutionary parties. It was therefore re- , solved that he should die. Dumouriez's treason was seized upon as the best opportunity for the execution of this design. Arrested April 7, Egalite was transferred to Marseilles on the 12th. He found there his two sons^ the Dukes of Montpensier and Beaujolais, who had also been arrested. After an incarceration of six months in the Fort St. Jean, he was led back to Paris on the 2nd of Brumaire, and imprisoned in the Conciergerie.

The death of this troublesome accomplice was so- w evidently decided beforehand that Fouquier-Tinville did i^^^W^ not even try to elaborate an indictment, and used that which had been drawn up against the Girondins, the relentless enemies of Egalite. When the latter heard

74

MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

himself described as a Brissotin, when he heard the charge that he had attempted to place the Duke of York on the throne of France, he interrupted the reading, ^nd exclaimed : * But surely this is a joke ! ' When the president asked him if he had any answer to make, he said coldly * that the charges just uttered against him conflicted with each other, and could not possibly be urged against him, since it was well known that he had •constantly opposed the system and the measures of the party he was accused of having favoured.'

He was defended with much energy by Charles Voidel ; but, as I said before, his death had been con- sidered indispensable, and the Duke of Orleans's popu- larity was not sufficient to make the jury hesitate upon a measure which they deemed necessary. The Duke heard the sentence without displaying the slightest emotion ; and turning towards Antonnelle, the foreman of the jury, who had once been one of his close friends, he said :

* Since you were determined to kill me, you should have devised more plausible pretexts than you have alleged ; for you will never persuade any one that I am guilty of the crime for which you put me to death ; and you less than anybody else, Antonnelle, for you know me well. Since my fate is decided, I request you not to make me wait until to-morrow, and to order mv

immediate execution.'

General Coustard, his aide-de-camp, also a member of the Convention, was sentenced to death with him. The Tribunal having granted the Duke's request, Charles

I

ADAM LUX.— THE DUKE OF ORLEANS. 75

TIenri Sanson was sent for ; and to him the clerk of the Tribunal handed an order of immediate execution, which included two other prisoners condemned on the preced- ing day : Jacques Nicolas de Laroque, ex-sub -delegate of Mortagne, and Pierre Gondier, stockbroker.

It was half-past three o'clock when my grandfather received this order. As he was about to start with the prisoners, he was told to wait, and a fifth victim was handed over to him. This was a workman named Antoine Brousse.

The Duke of Orleans was pacing the prison parlour when the executioner appeared. He was slightly pale, but otherwise showed no emotion. My grandfather took off his hat, as he always did ; but the Duke paid no attention to him. On being asked, however, whether he would allow his hair to be cut, he sat down without making any remark. At that moment the four other victims were brought in. M. de Laroque entered first ; he was a fine 'old man, and his face was of noble cast. As one of the assistants was offering to cut his hair, he took off the wig which covered his bald head, saying : * This renders your formality useless.' The Duke of Orleans, who until then had been sitting with his back turned, having risen, M. de Laroque recog- nised him, and strong indignation appeared on the old Tnan's face as he exclaimed :

'■ I am no longer sorry to leave life since he who has betrayed my country meets with condign punishment ; but, sir, I confess I am much humiliated at having to die on the same scaffold as you.'

76 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS,

The Duke did not answer, and turned away.

It was four o'clock in the r.fternoon when the cortege left the Conciergerie. The prince's sang-froid did not forsake him ; but his courage essentially differed from that displayed by the Girondins and so many other victims ; his countenance expressed indifference and disgust. The leader of the escort stopped before the Egalite palace, on the front of which were written the words ' national property.' The prince understood why the halt had been made. He looked for a moment at the abode of his ancestors, and then turned away scornfully.

M. de Laroque was the first whose head fell. He bade farewell to all his companions, except to the Duke of Orleans. Gondier came next, then Coustard, and lastly Brousse.

The prince witnessed these executions without emotion. He appeared in his turn on the platform^ shrugged his shoulders, and looked with a proud and haughty air at the people who were hissing him. After taking off his coat, the assistants wished to divest him of his boots, but he resisted, and advanced towards the plank, saying : * You are losing time ; you can take them off at greater leisure when I am dead.' ^

* Forty years later, Louis Philippe, son of Egalite, was proclaimed King of the French.

n

CHAPTER XXXIV.

MADAME ROLAND AND BAILLY.

Six executions took place on the 17th of Brumaire — those of Rideau, mason; Jean Clain, upholsterer; Julien Cailleau, cooper ; Jean Teyniere, shoemaker ; Florent Ollivier, labourer ; and Thomas Herry, labourer — all municipal councillors of Pont-de-Ce, convicted of con- spiracy with the rebels of La Vendee.

These unfortunate men were soon to be followed by another illustrious victim. Madame Roland was arrested on May 31, and she appeared before the Revolutionary Tribunal on the i8th of Brumaire. Madame Roland had been the soul of the Gironde ; the elevation of her intel- lect, the grace of her wit, the superiority of her views liad given her serious influence, not only over her husband, but over the illustrious men who congregated in her drawing-room. This intervention of__a woman in politics had excitgd^much anger, both in the press and in the Convention; Madame Roland's caustic verve^Yitx just contempt for ambitious mediocrities, had swelled the. .ranks of her enemies. It was thus that, after the death of her friends, the Girondins, she was violently assailed, and finally arrested and arraigned. The im-

:^'

78 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

peachment was mainly based on her connection with the Girondins. Madame Roland was resigned to her fate, but she could not, without Indignation, listen to the insults that were cast upon the memory of her friends^, and she attempted to defend them :

* In what time, and among what people do we live ! ' she exclaimed. * It Is not my business to speak of the men you have proscribed, but I never believed that they had evil Intentions, for they gave to this country many proofs of their patriotism, integrity, and devotion. If they were mistaken, their error was virtuous ; they may have been misled, but they Incurred no dishonour. If It was a crime to wish for their safety, I declare In the face of the world that I am a criminal, and that I joyfully share with them the honour of being persecuted by their enemies. I have. Indeed, known well the generous men who were accused of having conspired against their country ; they were firm but humane Republicans ; they thought that good laws only could make the Republic popular with those who had no confidence in democratic institutions.'

The president of the Tribunal interrupted her, sayings that she could not be allowed to praise traitors who had been righteously punished. Madame Roland turned to- wards the audience and protested against these words ;, but insulting clamours were the only response to this appeal, and henceforth Madame Roland was disdain-- fully silent. She was condemned to death. When she heard the sentence, she said, addressing the Tribunal, In a calm and sweet voice :

MADAME ROLAND. 79,

' You judge me worthy of sharing the fate of the great men you have murdered : I will try to show on the scaffold the fortitude they displayed.'

Like the Duke of Orleans, Madame Roland was executed immediately after her trial. With her was Simon Frangois Lamarche, ex-manager of the manufac- tory of assignats. She had very fine black hair, a part of which had to be cut, at which she expressed some concern. My grandfather tried to make her understand, ' /j^ v^^ with all kinds of circumlocution, that, if he allowed her^'^^^^ \ to retain her hair, he would expose her to the most &1^^^^^ fearful torture. She seemed touched by his arguments,. (^ and paraphrasing a celebrated expression of Moliere's,. she said, smiling : * Strange that humanity should take refuge in such an unlikely person as you ! ' As her black hair was falling, she rose with much vivacity and /u/uuJb exclaimed : *At least leave me enough for you to hold ^ UAJ- c up my head and_§liow it to the people, if they wish to^^'*^^^^^^^ see itll.

Lamarche, who was about to die in her company,, was far from having her self-possession. M^^^i^^^SL. Roland's last act was one of profound abnegation and charity ^jhe forgot her own fate only to think _qfher_cqm^ panion's sufferings. She neyer_ceased_to_jxm5Q^^ encourage him. She affected gaiety which could not be in a mother's and a wife's heart, but which she hoped might lessen the horror and fear whercAyith Lamarf^hf^ was filled. Neither the Queen nor the Girondins had given rise to such popular fury as Madame Roland. 0

She heard taunts and invectives with a quiet smile. As

^o MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS,

to Lamarche, the sight of the guillotine deprived him of the small amount of courage inspired by Madame Roland's words ; his face turned livid, and an assistant was obliged to help him up. Madame Roland looked at him with compassion, and said to him :

* I can only spare you the sight of blood ; go first, poor man ! '

Since the death of the Girondins the public prose- cutor fixed the rank and file of execution^ Madame Roland, by reason of her sex, had been granted the privi- lege of dying first. When she told my grandfather that she abandoned to Lamarche the favour of being struck first, he answered that it was impossible ; that he had •different orders.

' No, no,' replied Madame Roland ; ' I am sure you were not ordered to refuse a woman's last request,'

Charles Henri Sanson had not the courage to per- sist Lamarche was guillotined, and Madame Roland saw his head fall without a shudder. She then advanced and gave herself up to my grandfather's assistants.

Well-known victims continued to appear on the scaffold. The 2 1st of Brumaire saw the death of another founder of the Republic — Bailly. Th^ circum- _ stances which preceded and attended his execution were so horrible that some historians, hostile to the Revolu-_ tion, have grossly exaggerated the facts, while Repub- lican historians have endeavoured to attenuate them. The following account of Bailly's death is, I make bold to say, the most accurate that has hitherto been written :

Jean Sylvain Bailly was born in Paris on September

B A ILLY. 8 1

15,1731. He was the son of Jacques Bailly, keeper of the King's paintings, and his ancestors were distinguished artists. _ His first preferences were for Hterature, but he forsook letters for science, and became one of the most eminent astronomers of the time. Bailly was elected a ■deputy for Paris in 1789, and the National Assembly selected him as president. On July 16, 1789, he was appointed mayor of Paris ; and his popularity was so .great that he accepted this perilous post with confidence ; but he was not long in discovering his mistake. Being sincerely constitutional, he assumed the responsibility of the terrible butchery, of which the scene was the Champ de la Federation. It is now pretty certain that, although he held himself responsible, he had no hand in this sanguinary affair ; but there was then every reason to think otherwise, and he was on all sides devoted to popular revenge. He resigned his office, gave up public affairs, and retired in the neigh- iDourhood of Nantes. But in that town, as well as in Paris, he was regarded as a traitor ; and as his position was becoming more perilous every day, he wrote to a friend, asking for a place of shelter. His friend pre- pared one for him in the neighbourhood of Melun. Bailly left Brittany, but fell into the hands of a detach- ment of the revolutionary army, and was taken to Paris. He appeared before the dreaded Tribunal on the 19th of Brumaire. The massacre of the Champ de Mars was not the only charge brought against Bailly ; he was also accused of having excited the conquerors of La Bastille against each other, and of having favoured the King's VOL. II. G

82 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

escape at Varennes. The absurdity of this conjecture was glaring. A considerable number of witnesses were heard ; all went against Bailly, and the obvious result was a verdict of guilty, and Bailly was sentenced to death.

I have already stated that the executioner used to call every day on the public prosecutor to take his orders. On the 20th of Brumaire he was told by a clerk of the court that no execution was to take place on that day,, and he was dismissed without being apprised of the special preparations of the morrow for poor Bailly's. execution. It was only at nine o'clock on the morning^ of the 2 1st that Charles Henri was ordered to transfer. the guillotine to the Champ de Mars. He lost some time in calling together his assistants, so that it was past ten when he proceeded to the Place de la Revolu- tion. FouquieijTinville had selected a spot between the * Altar of the Country ' and the Gros-Caillou for the erection of the scaffold — the yeiT place occupied by the troops when they firedT upon. the j^eople. On my father devolved the task of removing the_ instrument of death from its usual quarters. My grandfather gave him his in- structions and went to the Conciergerie, where he arrived at half-past eleven o'clock. As he entered the prison he met Hebert, who bowed to him as he passed. Bailly was immediately brought forward. I can assert that ^^ the people did not take the initiative in the revolting treatment he met with before execution. The turnkeys ofthe Conciergerie, who often showed wanton brutality in their dealings with prisoners, treated Bailly with more

BAILLY.

83

than usual violence, and this made my father think that they were acting under orders. As Bailly was bending forward one of the men pushed him violently towards another turnkey, who in his turn hustled him into the hands of another, and so on, until the unfortunate man was bruised and out of breath. Bault; the head gaoler, and Nappier, the clerk of the Tribunal, were present and looked on. Charles Henri having asked Bault why he did not interfere, the latter replied, shrugging his shoulders :

' What can I do .? '

Nappier laughed and nodded approval. My grand father then thought of the individual he had met shortly before, and supposed that Hebert had something to do with what was going on. He was not mistaken, for Bault confessed to him afterwards that the deputy procureiLv of the Commune had excited his subordinates against Bailly.

Seeing that the unfortunate man was helpless, Charles Henri told his assistants to bind his hands. The con- duct of the turnkeys had in no way disturbed the equanimity of the illustrious savant. His firmness had peculiar good nature about it. He answered the dis- graceful jokes of the gaolers merely by the words :

' You are hurting me.'

When the executioner's assistants tore him away from his tormenters, he smiled and said :

* I am rather old for that kind of game.'

When he was pinioned, my grandfather advised him to allow his assistants to throw his coat over his

i

m£4

-hrr-Hc

8+ MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

shoulders, as the weather was chilly. ' Are you afraid ' that I should catch a cold ? ' enquired Bailly.

In his * History of the Revolution,' M, Thiers asserts I that Bailly was led to execution on foot : this_assertionjs^

^\\aij4 inaccurate. The late mayor of Paris enjoyed the pri- vilege of all persons condemned to die ; he was taken io the scaffold in a cart. Behind the cart a red^bgj^^as^ attached, which, according to the tenour of the_sentence^__ was to be burnt before the convict by the executioner.

When the cart appeared on the quay a storm of hisses and groans greeted the prisoner, and my grand- father perceived that the mob was chiefly composed o£_ the worst of the habituh of the Place de la Revolution. Bailly was seated ; he was conversing with my grand- father with extraordinary tranquility. He spoke of every- thing, excepFof himself! He questioned Charles Henri concerning the last moments of Custine, Charlotte Corday, and the Queen ; shortly after he asked him what his salary was. When the cart reached the Champs Elysees an assistant came in great haste to speak to my grandfather — the carpenters had forgotten some of the beams which formed the floor of the scaffold. Charles Plenri was obliged to return to the Place de la Revolu- tion, and to place these beams in the convict's cart. The halt was not without peril ; Bailly stepped out of the cart, and twice the crowd attempted to capture him. At length the cortege moved on again, but the pieces of wood which were now in the cart caused great incon- venience to poor Bailly. My grandfather asked him if he would rather walk, and he having accepted they

''^"^ hwJidiHAfK Mclk^/mdf dlM^f^;

BAILLY. 8s

proceeded behind the cart. When, however, the mob saw Bailly again within reach there was another tremendous rush to get at him, and a lad, making his way through the lines, snatched Bailly's coat off his shoulders. The t7 onslaught was so sudden that Bailly fell on his face. The coat was torn_jnto_ j.jthousand[_pieces, and another f^AjLu^i attempt was made to capture the convict, who was only ^^^ surrounded by the executioner and his assistants. ■'^^^^' Bailly, however, was saved from the worst of deaths by ^^A^ai^ c the intervention of the gendarmes. 5wi^

My ^grandfather hastened to get him ap;ain into the -*-^*^ cart, but the crowd was raised to frenzy, and a hailstorm -^^ ^ of projectiles were hurled at the convict's head. Charles Henri advised Bailly to bend down and shelter himself behind the beams ; but hardly had his head disappeared than the crowd became more violent. Bailly rose to his feet, saying to my grandfather :

' I think you are mistaken ; one should always make head against a storm.' And as Charles Henri was ex- pressing his vexation, he added : * It would be a pity if I could not die with courage during a quarter of an hour, after learning how to live with honour during fifty-seven years.'

It was half-past one when the cart reached the Champ de Mars. The scaffold was surrounded by three or four thousand men. Charles Henri, seeing the feeble- ness of his own escort, began to entertain serious fears. He understood that the convict was at the mercy of the howling niob. and hurried towards the scaffold, hoping to conclude the execution before the mob had time to

lA i aWfiffi^^^^ ^gj^hEMBlRS^F^ THE SANSONS.

a\^^ Jl/^ake a raid upon Be \ \h Mm'*^^ l3.rge, public indignation ran high against the execu-

M^ yl/feake a raid upon Bailly. When, however, this was seen

ij^ y(>' l» tioner, and Charles Henri was surrounded by a gang of ^\pi\fy'' thirty individuals, one of whom said to him that the >w^ ground which had drunk the blood of martyrs could not ^ be stained by the blood of a rascal — that Bailly could

not be executed in the Champ de Mars. My grand- father answered that he was bound to obey superior / KfjcvC/v. orders. * Orders ! ' exclaimed one of the men ; ^ only tjie j^ywoV people have the right to give you orders!' Charles Henri having called an officer of gendarmes to ask his advice, a third individual exclaimed : * You can proclaim martial law if you like ; you have the red flag and Bailly within reach ; as for us, we will erect the guillotine in its proper place.'

Loud applause followed this sally, and a scene of indescribable confusion ensued. The gendarmes h^d dispersed ; some helped the people in removing the guillotine. My grandfather was separated from the un- fortunate Bailly, and he had the greatest trouble to find him again. It was then that really commenced the torture of the poor old man. By the mud which soiled his shirt and face, and by a wound on his forehead, it was easy to infer that he had been struck by these frenzied savages. Men and women were equally ferocious — some raised their clenched fists over an un- fortunate man whose hands were bound ; others tried to strike him with sticks over their neighbours' heads. Bailly's face was still calm, but he was very pale ; as soon as he recognised Charles Henri Sanson he called

BAILLY. 87

lilm to his help — poor Bailly's only friend was his executioner. As my grandfather joined him, he said : * Ah ! I hoped all would be over long ago.'

One of the assistants was still by the prisoner's side ; the other assistant had disappeared. Two generous citizens, Beaulieu, and a gendarme named Lebidois, came to my grandfather's assistance. Beaulieu harangued the mob, and to a certain degree pacified it. Perceiving that it was dangerous to remain in the same place, and wishing to give some satisfaction to the crowd, he suggested that Bailly should select himself the spot where the scaffold •was to be erected. This suggestion was received with •enthusiasm, and Bailly was forthwith led away. Beau- lieu held one of his arms, Charles Henri Sanson held the other, and the gendarme and the remaining assistants closely followed them. This event has given rise to the invention which represents Bailly being led round the t I Champ de Mars carrying the boards of the guillotine. Qv^j^js^,

Bailly was taken to the extremity of the Champ de Mars, near the river side, where the scaffold was at last erected. A drizzling rain was falling ; Bailly's only garment was his shirt, which was torn, and barely covered his shoulders. The unfortunate man's teeth chattered with cold. It was then that one of those who pressed around him having said, ' You tremble, Bailly ! ' he made the famous reply :

' My friend, it is because I feel cold.'

So many tortures had not impaired his courage, but liis strength at length failed him, his head fell back, and he almost fainted in the executioner's arms, murmuring :

88 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

t(\^ * Water! water!'

rew %

jy A man — a monster I should say — actually th

liquid mud in his face. This outrage roused the indig- nation of a few, and there rose from the multitude a cry of reprobation. One of the spectators ran to the scaffold and brought back a bottle in which there was a small quantity of wine, which he poured into Bailly's mouth. The old man recovered, and with his beautiful smile said, * Thank you ! Preparations for the execution were now completed, and Bailly was assisted up the l^(^£ steps of the scaffold. ' Be quick, sir ; finish me off XM without delay,' said he to my grandfather. But a ^jm formality had yet to be attended to : the sentence said l/IHA ^ that the red flag was to be burnt by the executioner ' lf\£tOv(M before the late mayor of Paris. The flag was so wet (;^^AW(N i-jja^i- much time passed before it could be ignited.

mv^fi. j rj.-^^ story which shows the executioner burning the llluflag under Bailly's nose, and the victim's clothes catch- ing fire, deserves no credence whatever.

These preliminaries tried Bailly's power of resistance,, and he was about to faint a second time when my grandfather hurriedly pushed him towards the weigh- plank. While he was strapping him, he kept on en- couraging him. Charles Henri then rushed to the rope,, and Bailly was heaving a deep sigh of relief when the knife came down and severed his head.

On the 24th Brumaire another man who, like Bailly, had taken a brilliant part in the first movements of the Revolution, Louis Pierre Manuel, passed away from this, life. Unlike Bailly, however, he was anything but

BAILLY. 89

resigned to his fate ; he struggled with the executioner's^ assistants, and uttered piercing shrieks, which only the fall of the knife interrupted. General Brunet, com- mander-in-chief of the Army of Italy, was executed on the same day.

The task I had to fulfil in the relation of the dramas, of this bloody epoch ends here. My grandfather's diary now begins.

•90 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

I

CHAPTER XXXV.

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY.

Brumaire 26. — Executed to-day, Citizen De Cussy, of Caen, who had taken part in the conspiracy of the federalist deputies, and with him Gilbert de Voisin, late president of the ex-parliament, who, having emigrated, was imprudent enough to return to Paris. During the toilet somebody said aloud that if Cussy, who was an adept in coining gold and silver moneys, was about to be guillotined, it was a certain sign that the Republic wanted no other money than paper. After these two came Houchard, formerly general of the Army of the North, who, like an old soldier, did not tremble.

Brumaire 21. — Forgers still give us plenty of work. To-day I led two of them to the Place de la Revolution. Forgery is a misfortune which endangers the lives of many innocent persons. Forgers are so clever that it is difficult to distinguish bad from good paper, and many people who have been deceived cannot resist the tempta- tion of inflicting upon others the loss they have sus- tained. This evening I met in the Rue de la Tixeran- •derle a gang of women who were going to the Commune

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 91

: — they wore the red cap ; a large crowd followed them, giving cheers which were much like groans. I followed the example, and walked behind the women, for I wanted to know what they intended to complain of. Having met Citizen Nicolas Lelievre, he took me into the H6tel-de-Ville. The women also entered, but neither their costume nor their petition were to the taste of Citizen Chaumette, who spoke to them very sensibly, and sent them back to their homes.

Briimaire 28. — This morning we went to the Con- ciergerie. As I was waiting in the prison parlour, two citizens, who were about to be interrogated, passed through the room ; one of these, who I was told was Citizen Boisguyon, a soldier, approached me, and with great demonstrations of politeness, he said to me :

' Is it to the citizen executioner I have the honour of speaking } Is not your scaffold like a ball-room, citizen, and does not the knife, like the violins, begin operation^ in such a way as not to leave time for two words ? '

I gave an affirmative answer.

Then turning towards his companion he said to him : ^ You see, Dupre, that I was right, and that you acted your part very badly. We must ask Fouquier-Tinville to allow the citizen executioner to come and superintend our rehearsals.'

The gendarmes led them away, but I heard them laughing. The speaker alluded to a parody of capital punishment which had become the chief amusement of the prisoners.

92 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

Executed on this day a late deputy of the Con- stituante, Nicolas Remi Lesueur, of Saint Menehould, and an old soldier who had recruited for the enemy.V

Brumaire 29. — Two convicts, Distar de Bellecour, officer, and Charles Duparc, late employe at the Tuileries. Nothing particularly interesting.

The ' Section de I'Unite ' to-day, Brumaire 30, took away the remnants of the superstition of the Abbey of St. Germain des Pres to the Convention. I saw the proces- sion. At the head of it marched a party of soldiers, then came men wearing sacerdotal vestments over their clothes, and between two files were women and girls, dressed in white with tricolour sashes ; lastly, I saw hand-barrows wherein were placed vases, pyxes, candle- sticks, gold and silver plates, and a box of relics, studded with precious stones. The procession was followed by a band which played the tune of ' Malbrouk ' {sic)^ This booty, it is said, is worth two millions.

The Tribunal has given us a holiday ; such occasions. are rare.

Frimaire I. — We went to take away poor Citizen Boisguyon, who the other day had made fun of the guillotine. When he was brought to me he said :

*■ You are in earnest to-day ; you will be astonished to see how well I can play my part.'

With him were Girey-Dupre, Brissot's accomplice ; he had had his hair cut before being tried, and had appeared before the Tribunal in proper toilet for the-

* Francois Prix, alias Saint-Prix.

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 93

scaffold He said, turning round several times before me : ' I hope I am all right.' He was very cheerful. A forger of assignats, Colombier, was also to die. They all three took place in the same cart. The forger was in consternation ; he tried to prove to Citizen Boisguyon that he was not guilty. The latter attempted to console him, and said :

' If my dying twice, instead of once, could save you. I would willingly submit to the experiment, for death is of very little consequence to me ; but since this is im- possible, keep your reasons for the Lord, in whose presence we shall be two hours hence.'

As we were crossing the Rue St. Honore, two women appeared at a window of Duplay's house, where Citizen Robespierre lives. Girey-Dupre, who was showing the house to Boisguyon, cried at the top of his voice :

' Down with Cromwell ! down with the dictator ! ■down with the tyrant ! '

Juglet, the officer of gendarmes, tried to silence him, but in vain.

Colombier was executed first, Boisguyon came next. He was quiet to the last. When Girey was on the plat- form he wanted to address the people, but we had orders to prevent him, and we took hold of him. He cried several times * Vive la Repiblique ! '

Frimaire 4. — We executed Antoine Colnelle de Tontel, late lieutenant-colonel, and Clement Laverdy, formerly superintendent of finances, convicted of having contributed to famine by throwing corn into a pond — nasty day's work. The first-mentioned convict was

94 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

seventy-two years old, and the other seventy. Both; died with courage.

Frimaire 6. — Yesterday the Tribunal tried the in- dividuals accused of having given false evidence ; two of the accused were acquitted ; the third, Carterau Desor- meaux, was condemned to death and executed to-day.

Frimaire J. — Bread is scarce in town ; one must wait for hours before the bakers' shops before one can get some. The women crowd before the shops in the evening, and sometimes wait all night. This sight should be very distressing, but our compatriots turn everything into fun. This evening over five hundred persons were waiting before the baker in our street ; although the weather was very chilly, they were singing and laughing. Unfortunately this gaiety is frequently attended with disorder and misconduct, and there are husbands who complain. To-day the Tribunal sent to death Jacques Etienne Marchand, lieutenant of gendarmes ; General Nicolas Pollier-Lamarliere ; and Etienne Alexis Jacques Anisson, formerly director of the national press.

Frimaire 9. — Five heads fell to-day : two were those of celebrated men, Barnave, and Duport du Tertre, who had been minister of justice. It is said that Citizen Danton tried to save Barnave, but with the new law the denunciation of a child is enough to forfeit a man's life, and no earthly power could save him. Yesterday I saw Citizen P^ouquier as he was entering court. The execu- tion was appointed for to-day, but the sitting ended late, and the weather was so bad that it had to be put off to.

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 95-

the next day. At eleven o'clock, Barnave, Duport^ Citizen Benoit-Grandel — sentenced for writing * Vive le Roi /' on an assignat — Citizen Vervitch and his sister, were brought in to be cropped. Barnave and Du Tertre were very brave and quiet. The former came up to me, held out his hands, and said :

' Bind these hands, which were the first to sign the declaration of the rights of man ! '

When he was ready, and while Citizeness Vervitch,. who was in tears, was being bound, he went up to Duport and spoke to him with animation. Two carts, had been provided : the late deputies entered one, with me ; the three other convicts occupied the other cart, with Henri.^ On the way Barnave and Du Tertre went on conversing ; they spoke of the Republic, and pre- tended that its forthcoming ruin would kill liberty altogether. Many cries rose around the carts : one maa said to Barnave, in a tone of mockery :

* So young, so eloquent, so brave ! what a pity ! '

And Barnave answered very proudly : ' You are rights my friend 1 '

Citizeness Vervitch was executed first ; she was carried to the platform half dead with fear. Her brother followed her, then came Benoit-Grandel, Duport, Du Tertre, and Barnave. The latter looked at the guillotine and exclaimed :

' And this is my reward for the good I have done tO' my country ! '

* The narrator's son.

^6 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

Frimaire lo. — This morning I had to take two cart- drivers from the Conciergerie to the Place de la Revolu- tion. I had not, as yesterday, to deal with great citizens, but the quantity made up for quality, for there were five in one cart and four in the other — nine in all. In this number I saw a mother and a son. We had to use violence to separate them. When the mother saw her child's hair falling, her shrieks became so heartrend- ing that we could hardly bear to hear them. She spoke to us, saying that the Republic should be content with her head, and that the young man should be reprieved. It was too much for me. Henri took charge of the first cart, and I went in the other cart, but on the way, •despite the noise, I could hear the woman groaning .and weeping. The convicts who were in my cart turned away, not to see her. The women in the crowd wept, and many loudly expressed their pity. On the Place, and although she was very faint, she burst out again. The son kept on saying that he was glad to die with his mother. She suffered first, and on the platform she told me : * I am sure he is to be reprieved.'

I think she had an idea that her son had been brought with her merely to frighten her, but that he was not to be executed. I thought it was of no use to con- tradict her.

Frimaire II. — Executed Jean Vincenot, innkeeper; Pierre Nicolas Aubry, schoolmaster ; and Sebastian Mauduit, wine merchant.

The prettiest woman in Paris came forward to act as our new divinity — Reason. I read in a paper, yester-

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 97

day, that the goddess is Hkely to be Hke a general with- out soldiers.

Frimaire 12. — Two convicts this morning: Barthe- lemy Soudre, bootmaker, and Guillaume Jean Flament They were much insulted and laughed at.

Frimaire 13. — Executed Antoine Pierre Leon Du- fresne, doctor, for conspiring against the Republic, and Etienne Pierre Garneau for the same crime.

To-day a decree of the Commune has been made k:nown, which enumerates the requisite qualifications for a certificate of civism. To obtain such a certificate is now more difificult than to enter Paradise. One must show that one has been a member of the National Guard since 1790, produce receipts of patriotic contribu- tions from 1 79 1 to 1792 ; one must have held only one situation for the last two years, &c., &c. Citizen Chaumette is more exacting than St. Peter.

Frimaire 1 5. — Another deputy has been sent to the guillotine — Kersaint, formerly of the navy. He died bravely, as he had lived. Prayed on the way. A rebel priest, Baptiste Guerin, was executed with him.

Frimaire 16. — To-day, as I was going to the Con- ciergerie to take Jacques Auguste Rassay, Bernard d'Escourt, and Charlotte Felicite Lappe, the citizen prosecutor asked me to wait. Riviere, the turnkey, told me that they had just arrested Citizen Rabaut Saint Etienne, and his brother Rabaut Pommier, and that Fouquier had immediately ordered the first, who was outlawed, to be identified. The two Rabauts were con- cealed in the Rue Poissonniere, at a citizen's employed vol.. II. H

98 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

in the offices of the Committee of PubHc Safety. This citizen had caused to be constructed in his room a wall which so entirely concealed the apartment in which the two brothers were concealed, that it was next to im- possible to find them. But he was foolish enough to employ an upholsterer who was working in the offices of the Committee. When he heard Billaud, Amar, and Vouland, who spoke of nothing but death and massacre, the upholsterer became frightened ; he thought his life was in jeopardy, and he revealed the secret to Amar, who immediately directed the two brothers to be arrested. Half-an-hour after, the gendarmes returned with Rabaut Saint Etienne and Tirasse. Rabaut was handed over to me without more ado. He died with the greatest pluck.

Frimaire 17. — Madame Dubarry was sentenced to death last night, and executed this morning. We arrived at the hall of justice punctually at nine, but we had to wait, as the convict was with Citizen Denizot, judge, and Citizen Royer, who were taking down her confession. At ten o'clock Citizens Vandenyver, who were three in number — the father and the two sons — all accomplices of Madame Dubarry, and Citizen Bonnardot and Joseph Bruniot, forgers, were brought in. While the above named were being ' arranged ' ^ Madame Dubarry came in ; her legs could hardly carry her. It was some twenty years since I had seen her, and I

• By * arranged ' the executioner means that his victims were being, made ready for the scaffold. The expression is too characteristic not to be translated literally.— N. Ed.

COMTESSK UUBAKRY AND HER NEGRO PAGE LAMORE.— PAINTED BY VAN LOO.

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 99

could hardly have known her. Her features had become coarse. When she saw me she shrieked, covered her eyes with her hands, and sank down on her knees, cry- ing : ' Do not kill me ! '

She rose to her feet again : * Where are the judges } ' she exclaimed ; ' I have not confessed everything ; I want to see them ! '

Citizens Denizot and Royer were talking with two or three deputies who wished to see the poor woman ; they came forward and told her to speak out. She said she had concealed several objects of value in her country house at Luciennes, but she sobbed and broke down at every word. Citizen Royer, who held the pen, kept on saying, * Is that all ? ' and tried to make her sign the proch-verhal, but she pushed the paper away, saying that she had something to add. She perhaps thought that, in reason of the immense wealth she was giving up, she might be reprieved. At length Citizens Denizot and Royer rose, and said she must submit to the decision of her judges, and make up by her courage for the ignominy of her past life. One of my assistants approached and attempted to cut her hair, but she offered resistance, and the other assistants had great difficulty in binding her hands. She at last submitted, but she cried as I never saw a woman cry before. As many people crowded the quays as when the Queen and the Girondins were executed. Many cries were raised, but her shrieks were louder than any. She said : * Good citizens, free me ! I am innocent ; I am of the people,

H 2

loo MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS,

good citizens, do not let them kill me ! ' No one moved, but men and women hung their heads, and silence pre- vailed at last ; I never saw the people in a more merci- ful humour. Jacot's grimaces and taunts were of no avail. Dubarry was so faint that my son had to support her. She often spoke to me, begging for mercy. I was more moved than any one, for this unfortunate woman re- minded me of my young days, of the time when I knew her, of her worthy father. . . . When she saw the guillotine she became quite excited, and struggled with my assistants and tried to bite them. She was very strong, and three minutes elapsed before they could carry her up to the platform. She was frightful to look at, and to the very last second she struggled. The others were executed after her.

Frimaire i8. — To-day we guillotined Jean-Baptiste Noel, deputy of Les Vosges, outlawed. On the way he spoke of Madame Dubarry, and asked me if the knife had been well cleaned, because it would be disgraceful that a republican's blood should mingle with that of a prostitute. A forger of assignats was executed with him. To-day Claviere, ex-minister, stabbed himself in his cell.

Frimaire 20. — Executed six public purveyors for fraud.

Frimaire 21. — It is no easy matter to get shoes now- a-days. The Convention has decided that shoemakers shall henceforth work for the defenders of the country only. Two convicts to-day.

Frimaire 22. — Citizen Chaumette pursues women of

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. loi

loose life with energy. He ought to begin by allaying public misery, which leads them into the life they lead. To-day we had to deal with two of these women, named Claire Sevin and Catherine Loriot.

Frimaire 23. — Executed one of the great lords of the defunct Monarchy, the ci-devaiit Due du Chatelet. He did more harm to the Monarchy than its most inveterate enemies. The King gave him the command of the French Guards, in lieu of Biron ; Du Chatelet treated them so severely that he facilitated the work of those who were trying to disaffect the soldiers. He was carried to the prison parlour, for in the night he had attempted to destroy himself: having neither knife nor dagger, he tried to kill himself with a sharp piece of glass, but the glass broke, and only made a slight wound ; then, thinking that he could die by losing all his blood, he cut his breast several times with the piece which still remained in his possession, but he only suc- ceeded in weakening himself so that his legs could not carry him. Nevertheless, his heart was firm. I proposed in the cart to bind his wounds, and thereby prevent the blood from flowing, but he answered :

' Never mind ; it's only saving you work ! '

He recovered some strength in the Place de la Revo- lution, and cried * Vive le Rot ! '

Frimaire 25. — Two men — Frangois Xavier Bruniau, an ex-royalist magistrate ; and Pierre Charles Jacques Pouchon, an emigre.

Frimaire 26. — The servants of Montmorency, who has emigrated, were executed to-day.

I02 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

Frimaire 28. — Executed to-day three priests and two ci-devants.

Frimaire '^i. — The Club des Jacobins continues its purification. It has excluded noblemen and financiers. Antonnelle and Dix-Aoilt/ members of the jury ; Royer, substitute of the prosecutor ; Barrere, Dubois-Crance, Montant,^ and many others must be in a predicament. A Jacobin certificate is now more valuable than all possible documents. To-day, as I was passing before Chretien's cafe, I was hailed by Citizen Geofifroy, a journalist. I think he must have been very drunk, for he treated me with familiarity, and asked me to drink with him.

Nivose I. — I have begun the month by taking three convicts to the guillotine — a priest and two women. These were Julien d'Herville, priest and Jesuit ; Marie Anne Poulain, a nun ; and Marguerite Bernard, Anne Poulain's servant. They lived together in a house of the Faubourg d'Orleans. The priest said mass in one of the rooms, and several old women came every day to hear it. The local committee had suspicions ; it sent a woman to Citizeness Poulain, who told the latter that she knew a priest was concealed in the house, and asked that he should call on her husband who was dying.

• Dix- Aout, a juror of the Tribunal, was, in reality, the IMarquis Leroy de Montflabert. As his title and name were obnoxious to republican ears, he changed it into the date of a great republican victory, which he took as a name.

2 All these revolutionnaires more or less belonged to the aristocracy. Barrere was not of noble descent, but had married the Marquise de Vieuzac, whose name he added to his to distinguish himself from the members of his family bearing his name.

CHARLES HENRI SANSONKS DIARY. 103

Poulain denied that a priest was in hiding in her apart- ment, and told Julien d'Herville not to go, as she knew that the visitor was republican. But the priest would not listen to her, and was arrested in the house of the creature who had wanted to betray him.

Nivose 2. — Only one execution to-day.

Nivose 3. — It appears that Collot d'Herbois, on mis- sion at Lyons, has discarded the guillotine, because it only kills one man at a time, and taken to shooting enemies of the Republic wholesale. A deputation of Lyonese citizens have denounced these doings to the Convention ; but their brief has been ill received. Robes- pierre spoke first; he began by thundering against the aristocracy; but he concluded by proposing that local committees should appoint delegates in order to seek the means of setting at liberty the patriots who might be under lock and key. This is something, and people are grateful for what Robespierre has done.

Nivose 4. — Madame Dubarry's confession did not save her life, but forfeited that of two persons. This morning I executed Jacques Etienne Laboudie, formerly of the navy, and Denis Morin, Madame Dubarry's valet-de-chambre, sentenced to death, the first for high treason, the second for having concealed money and jewels belonging to the nation. Two other persons, a woman and a plebeian, were executed in their company.

Nivose 5. — Five executions to-day : Etienne Teyssier, high treason ; Michel Kurtz, Pierre Vetzel, Michel Bourg, and Bernard Hourtz. The four last named were Alsa-

I04 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

tians. With the exception of Bourg, who encouraged his companions, all were frightened. It is curious that those whose life is the most tedious and plodding should regret it more than others who have far more reason for caring for it.

, Nivose 6. — Executed a dishonest baker, Nicolas Gornot, of the Rue St. Jacques. All the citizens of his section were around the scaffold and insulted him. With him, Prevost Lacroix, captain in the navy, and Jean Marie AUard, curate of Bagneux. . . .

Nivose 9. — Dietricht, formerly mayor of Strasburg^ was guillotined to-day. While I was binding him he said :

* You have already guillotined many good republi- cans, but none that were more devoted to the country than I am.'

He was calm and very plucky. He said more than once that his dying wish was that Alsace should never be separated from France. He cried ' Vive la Republique ! * on the scaffold.

Nivose 10. — Last month, at the bidding of the pro- secutor of the Commune, I had been ordered to remove- the blood which oozed through the boards of the guillo- tine. A hole had been made which had been covered with a trellis-work. But the blood dried too rapidly and could not be absorbed by the earth, and an unbearable smell came from the pit. Last night I directed my assistants to dig deeper. It is said that Chabot, member of the Convention, who was lately arrested, poisoned himself, but that his sufferings were so great that he-

DIARY. 105:

:d for help, and

irmles died to- itenced yester- ce de la Revo- room, and was seeing me, he

sters ! '

aich made him

ay ; I am at

il tranquillity,, i arrive in the V year to his. n the way a

MARIE ANTOINETTE.

iulted. Smce

(From the portrait by Mme. Le Brun.) . , ,

Ider with the convicts. If all cried and struggled as she did, the guillotine could not last.

Nivose 12 (ist of January in the old style) and' Nivose 13. — Executed Charles Marie Barre, one of those who conspired against the unity of the Republic ; Pierre

The nth of Nivose was the last day of the year of the old calendary.

I04 ME.

tians. With his companion those whose hf( regret it more Pineth caring for it.

. Nivose 6.- Gornot, of the section were With him, Pre^

n

Jean Marie AL

ish artist Kocli.irsko, who, according set to watch the queen in the Con- ation of Pri cc d'Arenroerg at Bn.is-

nt — fhat )'ou do all this without

of your caprice, and of his too

>f nothing but of races and

uxed company.

'Y\.

iinj)n^vMi!,;vnt tor iite"' where licr husband li and D'OHva were disn

When Marie Antoii larity was immense. ' she would inaugurate , era of vice and shajn^ X\\'.s reign.

" Madame, is not t lovers .?" said the ol! I lo her as the crow;' n'es bov/ed in dei princess. She des(

I shall never forget ceived all that could 1. less than the kindlinc though overwhelmed ing us. When we w- great that it was thret-j On getting hack vre asce <in hour, I nn)-, •>(- rJesc

Nivose 9.-^';			wnic cda
was guillotineo her ;			V it ^0 e<
said : .,h%v,, ,,.., .			1 sha
^You have^V^t > The cans, but nontto t ,			'. COUl with t
than I am.' fJSr^',: ^^t'.: He was ca>fore he- She an. ,, ^ , . -al ^ Iv and \\ once that his Cf ,			ch I hi . ' hear \vh lie yoTing- m ' , who b-!( i deeds c'
separated from 'J	ilS- ore •ec, _ ,,	c iU	■ possible
on the scaffold secutor of the^ad been ma:..;.a.. ■	iusal i. iproachi ■ s lUir.. ■. la tors

. ,, , ,. ^ died before .Lvyas tmished, the blood whlCurt, and no iL was left in the

tine. A hole had been made which had been covered

with a trellis-work. But the blood dried too rapidly and

could not be absorbed by the earth, and an unbearable

smell came from the pit. Last night I directed my

assistants to dig deeper. It is said that Chabot, member

of the Convention, who was lately arrested, poisoned

himself, but that his sufferings were so great that he

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 105:

could not bear them any longer ; he called for help, and he has still a few days to live.

Nivose II. — Another general of our armies died to- day on the guillotine. Biron had been sentenced yester- day. This morning I led him to the Place de la Revo- lution, He was in the head-turnkey's room, and was eating oysters with much appetite. On seeing me, he said :

' Allow me to eat this last dozen of oysters ! ' I answered that I was at his orders, which made him laugh ; and he said :

* No, inorhlcu ! it's just the other way ; I am at yours ! '

He finished his repast with wonderful tranquillity,,, joking with me, and saying that he should arrive in the other world in time to wish a happy new year to his friends.^ He was cool to the end. On the way a soldier called out to him :

' Farewell, general ! '

Biron answered :

* Good-bye, comrade ! '

The soldier was neither beaten nor insulted. Since Madame Dubarry's death citizens are milder with the convicts. If all cried and struggled as she did, the guillotine could not last.

Nivose 12 (ist of January in the old style) and Nivose 13. — Executed Charles Marie Barre, one of those who conspired against the unity of the Republic ; Pierre

» The nth of Nivose was the last day of the year of the old calendary.

io6 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

Frangois de Poller, Charles Louis de Faverolle, noble- man ; Agathe Jolivet, a gentlewoman ; and Pierre Joachim Van Clemput, priest.

Nivose 14. — Three women and two men, all belong- ing to the nobility, were executed to-day. , Nivose 15. — This morning I gave thirty sols for a •copy of the 'Vieux Cordelier,' Camille Desmoulins's paper. It is the fifth number. The number of copies issued was not equal to the demand. Hebert has found a master ; and everybody wants to read the tremendous drubbing Camille Desmoulins gives him.^ Since so good a patriot as Desmoulins has dared to speak of clemency, every face looks happier. It is pretty certain that Dan- ton, Camille's friend, is behind him, and that between them they will put down those who wish the Republic to be baptised on the guillotine every morning.

Meanwhile executions continue. To-day we guillo- tined the son of Custine ; it had been said yesterday that he would be acquitted, and his conviction has taken everybody by surprise. After him, Citizen Ladevize, formerly knight of St. Louis, was put to death.

Nivose 16. — To-day we executed General Luckner. He was seventy-two years old, and quite broken by age ; but he was brave to the last, and died bravely.

Nivose 17. — To-day I led to the guillotine three in- •dividuals of the same name, and yet they were not re- lated to each other. Were they brought together by a mere chance, or was it a joke of one of the secretaries

' In the numbers alluded to above, Desmoulins attacked Hebert with •extraordinary power and wit. — N. Ed.

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 107

<)f the prosecution, some of whom are young enough to laugh at what is not funny at all ? Their names were Camille Sapi Suschi Bologne, formerly a marquis, and an officer in the army ; Jean-Baptiste Bologne, non- commissioned officer in the French Guards ; and Nicolas Vincent Bologne, formerly vicar of Bicetre. The a- druant marquis was seventy-eight years of age. With them, Marie Louise de Camp, wife of Gilbert Grassin, gentleman.

Nivose 19. — Executed Jean Mandrillon, late func- tionary of the executive power, convicted of treason, in •complicity with Brunswick and Dumouriez ; Claude Augustin Imbert, member of the Convention, guilty of having fabricated spurious passports; and Catherine Bethringer, convicted of treason.

Nivose 20. — Marie Aimee Leroy, wife of Joseph Paucher, and Joseph Girouard, printer.

Nivose 2'^, — Adrien Lamourette,constitutional bishop •of Lyons, was put to death to-day. He showed that he did not fear death. He was much insulted on the way ; he blessed the people without showing any bitterness or resentment. People cried to him, in alluding to his speech of July 1792 :

' Embrace Chariot,^ Lamourette ; come, embrace Chariot ! '

Lamourette turned to me, and said :

* Yes, I embrace in thee humanity ; however mad ^nd furious it may be, it is always humanity.'

^ * Chariot, ' for Charles. This contraction of Charles Henri Sanson's Christian name is still generally applied to the executioner in France.

^N. Ed.

io8 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

And, in effect, he did embrace me, just as he was about to be strapped to the weigh-plank. After him^ Jean Joseph Durand, ex-president of the revolutionary committee of Montpellier, was put to death.

Nivose 27. — Jean Pierre Thiellard, tradesman ; Charles HoUier, vicar of the constitutional church of Bordeaux ; and Pierre Ducourman, lawyer, were executed this morning. In the cart the three convicts sang a song they had composed in prison. Their singing ex- cited the anger of the people, who threw mud in their faces. Firmness does not mollify all citizens, but rather irritates them, as red irritates bulls. Some convicts return the taunts, and then it is worse. I have already witnessed really disgraceful scenes. Tirasse spoke of the matter to Renaudin, asking that Fouquier should give orders to the gendarmes, and that Jacot, my assis- tant, should be dismissed. Fouquier answered that he had no time to waste over such futilities. Renaudin has promised to speak of the matter to Robespierre.

Nivose 2(). — This day has seen the condemnation and execution of the nephew of a man who had much reason to complain of the old regime — Jean Vissec, Baron de Latude.

Phiviose 2. — A year since to-day we executed the King. This morning my wife was so pale and tired when she awoke that I guessed that her sleep had been troubled. She knelt down to pray, and I did the same. ... I had to lead four to the scaffold to-day — Jearr Thibault, labourer; Marc Etienne Quatremere, merchant; Jean Marie de I'Ecluse, lieutenant in the navy ; and

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 109

Bernard Sables, merchant. The town was merry, on account of the anniversary of the death of the King. The streets were full of citizens, who sang patrotic choruses. We reached the Place, and as L'Ecluse was .going up the steps loud shouts were heard. The members of the Convention were coming through the garden. The public, unasked, opened its ranks before the deputies ; but the latter neither advanced nor re- turned on their steps. A committee of Jacobins had asked the Convention that a deputation of its members should join the Commune in a pilgrimage to the tree of liberty in commemoration of the day. The motion had excited great enthusiasm, and the Assembly rose in a body to join the cortege. No doubt they had no idea of the surprise Citizen Fouquier had reserved for them. Many deputies, Avhen they saw the cart, tried to go away ; but the people pressed around them, thereby obliging them to witness the execution. The tumult was so great that the convict L'Ecluse stopped on the steps and turned round. The assistants stood motionless, and I myself did not care to outrage the majesty of the deputies of the nation by such a sight. Cries of * Proceed with the execution ! * were raised, and we did our duty. The head of the naval officer fell, and his three companions suffered after him. The thump of the knife was greeted with tremendous applause.

Pluviose 3, 4, 5, — Thirteen executions of minor indi- viduals.

Pluviose 13. — Yesterday I returned from Brie, where

no MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

our country house is. The three days I passed there leave me no desire to return to the place. The word 'fraternity' is inscribed on the mairie, but it is not inscribed on the hearts of the inhabitants. While the poorest in Paris sacrifice whatever they possess, while the most relentless sometimes behave with real gene- rosity, the inhabitants of the country only think of enriching themselves. The sale of the national domains,, far from satisfying them, has only excited their cupidity. The law awards death to monopolisers. Were the law carried out, a guillotine should be erected in every village ; for almost every peasant conceals his corn, for fear of being compelled to take it to market, and receive assignats in payment. There are, it is true, revolutionary committees in almost every village ; but the peasants understand their own interests, and they never denounce each other. They form a secret association, which defies the decrees of the Convention, and which is the real cause of famine. The patriotic vigilance of the said committees is only exercised at the expense of those who are rich enough to be envied. Thus several rich inhabitants of Coulommiers, two of whom I know, were brought to Paris, judged and executed to-day, under pretext of a conspiracy which never existed.

Pluviose 1 6. — The jurors of the Revolutionary Tri- bunal are not very scrupulous as to whom they condemn,, and on their side the prisoners care little for life. Never were people more regardless of existence. Formerly,, when I used to enter a prison, my appearance frightened the boldest : now among the prisoners I meet in the

CHARLES HENRY SANSON'S DIARY, in

passages and parlour of the prison, not one seems to think that to-morrow, perhaps, I may call for him. There are some who smile when I appear. These smiles pro- duce a singular effect upon me. Experience has made me callous, and I can bear the horror with which we executioners are regarded ; but to get accustomed to people who almost say ' Thank you ' when they are led to the guillotine, is more difficult. My hand could not have remained firm if it had still to carry out such sentences as the former regime were wont to inflict. Judges, jurors, prisoners seem as if they were taken with a kind of delirium of death. When shall all this end .'* A prisoner asked me the other day : * What could I do in order to be guillotined immediately 1 ' Those who manifest such impatience perhaps are not the pluckiest. There are others who remain calm and cool, as if they had yet a hundred years to live. Such was Montjour- dain, commander of the St. Lazare battalion. During six weeks of incarceration in the Conciergerie he did not betray the slightest sign of fear or sadness. When he was informed that his time was come, he composed a. song. He was taken to the scaffold with one Cour- tonnet, and both kept on joking and laughing up to the last minute.

113 MEMOIRS OF THE SAN SONS.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

CHARLES HENRY SANSON'S DIARY—continued.

Plitviose 17. — To-day we executed some ladies of ■quality. They showed almost as much tranquillity as Citizen Montjourdain. Their names were : Marie Gabrielle Lechapt, widow of the Marquis de Rastignac, -convicted of having sent money to her son, who had emigrated ; the ci-devant Marchioness de Marboeuf, con- victed of having accaparated provisions ; and with her Jean Joseph Payen, farmer of Madame de Marboeuf; and two forgers of assignats, Nicolas Armand and Jean Renaud. On the way Madame de Marboeuf exhorted Payen to die courageously. She said to him :

' After all, my poor fellow, it is just the same whether we die to-day or twenty years later.'

'If it is just the same,' answered Payen, who was not at all resigned to his fate, * I would rather die in twenty years.'

Phiviose 19. — This day, Elisabeth Pauline Gand, wife of Count de Lauraguais ; Louis Pierre ; Madame de Lauraguais's steward ; Pierre Joseph Petit, constitutional curate of Menil, guilty of corresponding with the enemy ;

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 113

and Nicolas Pasquin, formerly Princess Elizabeth's valet, were executed.

Pluviose 22. — Couthon had, it appears, made more noise than harm at Lyons. He threatened very loudly, but his threats killed no one. Things considerably altered after he was superseded by Collot and Fouche. CoUot eschewed the guillotine, which he thought was not sufficiently expeditious, and executed with cannon, and thus put to death over two hundred persons every day. Robespierre and Couthon are indignant at this butchery. The Convention governs the Republic. It is itself governed by a dozen sanguinary leaders, who obey the orders of the Club des Cordeliers ; so that Hebert, who is the big gun of the Cordeliers, can say with reason that he is the real sovereign of the people. All this is sad enough. The Tribunal to-day sentenced six nuns. We executed them immediately after their trial.

Pluviose 23. — Executed Anne Henri ette Bouchevain, Baronne de Vaxence, and Francois Amable Chapuy, lieutenant-colonel of the fifth battalion of Saone-et- Loire.

Ventose i. — Ronsin, general of the revolutionary army, and Vincent have been set free. What is strange is that it is Danton who obtained the discharge of these two violent men. Ronsin strides about the streets with his old airs. His presence dispels all hopes of clemency ; and it has given rise to the rumour that another govern- ment is to be established. This government is to have for principal object the acceleration of revolutionary VOL. II. I

1X4 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

justice. Ronsin is to be the head of the government ; under him is to be a military tribunal, composed of a. high judge, a prosecutor, and four judges. A council, called the Conseil Antique, is to take the place of the Convention. I need hardly say that very few people believe in this absurdity. To-day executed Francois Gerbaut, merchant, and a deserter named Gossenot.

Ventose 6. — Jean Jacques Dortoman, formerly general in the Army of Italy ; Thomas de Maussion, a noble-^ man ; Joseph Canel, a hairdresser ; and Barbe Smith, a woman, were executed to-day.

Ventose 8. — Wood, which was dear enough last month, is unapproachable now. The cold is intense. A month ago planks of the guillotine were stolen ; this morning, on our way to the Conciergerie, we found a man stretched out on the pavement ; he wanted to fetch some water from the river, had fallen on the quay, and had not the strength to get up. He told us that he had not eaten for two days. We had three cart-loads of convicts to-day, fifteen in all — men, women, noblemen, priests, and merchants.

Ventose lo. — Robespierre is ill, and the Cordeliers have it all their own way. Yesterday they declared that Citizens Camille Desmoulins and Fabre d'Eglantine should be impeached : they also make the best of the sufferings of the people, which are great ; they accuse the Convention and speak of doing again what was done on June 2. What shall we become if they have the best of it "i Since the guillotine is at the order of the

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY, 115

day, its inventors are always thinking of modifying it. Over twenty suggestions to that effect have been presented to the revolutionary committee, but they were so absurd that only one of these has been reserved for consideration. The plan consists in a trap opening near the weigh-plank, into which the body falls, a device which prevents accumulation on the guillotine. Citizen Vouland, of the Convention, was present when the experiment was made. It did not succeed, the two bags of sand which were used for the purpose having failed to enter the trap. Citizen Vouland asked for my opinion. I said that the proposed alteration was full of danger ; that if the trap did not close better than it opened, the execu- tioners or the convicts might fall through it with the corpses. He expressed his concurrence in this view, and the proposed alteration was shelved.

We guillotined five persons to-day — four men and one woman.

Ventose 13. — The Revolutionary Tribunal settles old accounts with country citizens. Two carts were sent to the guillotine to-day. All the convicts were peasants. A very unfortunate accident happened. Only one con- vict remained, all his companions having been executed before him ; as he was being strapped down, my son Henri, who was attending to the baskets, called me and I went to him. Lariviere, one of the assistants, had for- gotten to re-raise the knife, so that when the weigh- plank was lowered with the convict Laroque strapped upon it, his face struck the edge of the knife, which was

12

ii6 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

bloody. He uttered a terrible shriek. I ran up, lifted the weigh-plank, and hastened to raise the knife. The convict trembled like a leaf. The mob hissed us, and threw stones at us. In the evening Citizen Fouquier severely reprimanded me. I deserved his blame, for I should have been in my usual place. Citizen Fouquier saw I was very sorry, and dismissed me with more kind- ness than I expected. Thirteen executions.

Ventose 15. — The Cordeliers proclaimed insurrection in their sitting of yesterday. I see no symptoms of emotion in the streets ; gatherings are neither more numerous nor more turbulent than usual. If this goes on, the Pere Duchene (Hebert) may perhaps learn by ex- perience what the sensations of the guillotine are. On the other hand, the people of the guillotine,^ who are just as much the people of the Club des Cordeliers, were in- flamed by the speeches they had heard. Never have convicts been more hooted than those of this morning were. Cries of * Pitch them into the river ! ' were heard for the first time. The utmost consternation prevails throughout the prisons, with the exception of the Con- ciergerie, for those who are prisoners have very little hope, whatever may occur. The convicts of this morn- ing were a father and his two sons ; Guillaume Saint- Souplet, Anne Michel, and Anne Claude Saint-Souplet, aristocrats. Three other convicts also suffered.

Ventose 17. — Guillotined, at three o'clock in the afternoon, Claude Compart, general inspector of the

^ The narrator means the usual attendants of executions.

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 117

post-office ; Jacques Marie Duchemin, secretary of the Prince de Conde ; and Gilbert de Grassin, gentleman.

Ventose 18. — A foreigner, who, as well as I could guess by his accent, was an Englishman, called on me to-day, and forthwith proposed to give me a neat sum if I would include him for one day among my assistants. I had all sorts of reasons to be surprised at the proposal ; I enquired whether what he wished to do was out of hatred against the French. He answered that he did not care much either for France or for the French, but that his motive was the satisfaction of curiosity ; that he had come to Paris to see a revolution of which the whole world was speaking, and that, before going, he wished to see an execution as closely as possible. I then tried to impress on him that his curiosity might bring him into trouble, that we were at war with his country, and that if he were identified he would cer- tainly be taken for a spy and treated as such ; in short I flatly refused his proffer. He listened to me with much coolness, and when I had done speaking, he answered that his mind was made up, and that, * in spite of me,* he would go on the scaffold.

I could not help saying to him :

* Take care you don't go there in spite of yourself

He left me, saying, ^ Au revoir!

To-day we had two executions : Louis Desacres de Laigle, Count and Marshal ; and Anne Alexandrine Rosalie de Larochefoucauld.

Ventose 20. — Ronsin's and Hebert's party has at- tempted to raise the Commune. They asked that the

ii8 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

Declaration of the Rights of Man should remain valid until the Republic had exterminated her enemies. They were listened to ; but no one stirred, not even Chaumette. It is said that Ronsin made a scene after the sitting, and tried to strike the prosecutor of the Commune. The fate of the Hebertists is as good as sealed now. It was even rumoured this morning that most of them had been arrested.

Ventose 24. — Ronsin, Vincent, Hebert, Momoro, Laumur, Ducroquet, and Ancard were arrested last night. The details of their conspiracy were frightful. It is said that they proposed renewing the massacres in September.

Ventose 26. — We had a terrible day's work to-day. In yesterday's sitting, the Tribunal passed sixteen sen- tences of death. I was ready at two o'clock yesterday; but Citizen Fabricius told me that, as it was raining fast, it was more advisable to delay execution until the next morning. This morning, then, I went to the Conciergerie with four carts. All the convicts were natives of the department of La Nievre, who had taken part in an insurrection. The execution lasted thirty-two minutes.

Germinal i. — The trial of Hebert, Vincent, and the other Cordeliers commenced this morning. It is said that it cannot but last several days. This is a respite for me, at least. Two men suffered to-day. On returning from the Place de la Revolution, Citizen Fouquier ordered me to remain in permanency so long as the trial of the Hebertists should last ; so I entered the justice hall,

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 119

and heard what was going on. Twenty accused were seated in a row. Hebert was very pale, and could hardly answer when he was spoken to ; Ronsin and Momoro seemed to defy the judges. The wife of Quetineau, who was executed the other day, is among the prisoners — no one knows why. Riviere told me that, during the first •days of their incarceration, they quarrelled together. It was Anacharsis Clootz who made them understand that these disputes were of no good. When Hebert was brought into the prison, those who had been arrested before him jeered him ; but Ronsin defended him, and a <:ollision ensued between the latter and a man named Collignon. Hebert and his partisans now turn their backs upon their other companions. Kock, the banker, in whose house they used to feast, will share their fate, He said he would give a last dinner to his friends before their death.

Germinal 3. — Henri took my place to-day on the scaffold. I remained in permanency in the Tribunal. Hebert and Vincent are much discouraged. Ronsin does not flinch ; and Clootz is sad, but very calm and dignified. He has written a pamphlet entitled, 'The Universal Republic,' in which he said that he was the personal enemy of God. He also said that the world would join France, and adopt republican institutions. This pamphlet has been used against him ; and Renaudin said to him that it was only written to render the coalition of crowned lieads against France plausible. Clootz answered :

' I cannot be suspected of being a partisan of kings ; it would indeed be extraordinary if a man who would

I20 MEMOIRS OF THE S ANSON S,

be burnt at Rome, hanged in England, and quartered at Vienna, were guillotined in Paris.'

Clootz is a sincere madman who deserves a shower bath, and nothing more. And then the ways of the Tribunal are so singular that they excite interest on behalf of all those who appear before it, whoever they may be. Thus I heard the President upbraiding Clootz. for being a born Prussian, and for being rich ; this is sa unjust that it verges on stupidity. The trial will go on to-morrow.

Germinal 4. — The execution took place to-day. The trial was resumed at ten o'clock this morning. President Dumas made a terrible speech, and the jurors retired to deliberate. At about half-past twelve they delivered their verdict. Nineteen of the prisoners were sentenced to death ; one only, Citizen Labourreau, medical student, was acquitted. Citizeness Jeanne Latreille, wife of the late General Quetineau, declared she was pregnant,, and obtained a provisional reprieve. The judgment must have been written beforehand, for hardly half-an- hour after it was delivered criers were reading it around the Palace of Justice. Their execution was to be imme- diate. Fouquier said : * Each second of their existence becomes an outrage to the majesty of the people.' I sent off some men to the Place de la Revolution- Henri hurried to the Rue Frangois-Miron, where the carts were ready. He returned with the same rapidity, and an hour and a half after the declaration of the verdict the prisoners were brought forward. They were eighteen in number — Jacques Rend Hebert, a man of letters, and

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 121

before the Revolution employe oi the Theatre de Varietes ; Charles Philippe Ronsin, formerly a journalist, more recently general of the revolutionary armies ; Antoine Frangois Momoro, printer ; Nicolas Vincent, formerly lawyer's clerk ; Michel Laumur, general ; Jean-Baptiste Anacharsis Clootz, journalist and member of the Conven- tion ; Pierre Jean Proly, editor of * Le Cosmopolite ; ' Conrad Kock, banker ; Jacob Pereira, vice-president of the * Section du Bon-Conseil ; ' Armand Hubert Leclerc, employe in the war-office ; Francois Desfieux, wine mer- chant ; Jean Antoine Florent Armand, medical student ; Jean-Baptiste Ancard, manager of the arsenals ; Frederic Pierre Ducroquet, commisioner of the government ; An- toine Descombes, commissioner of the government ; Jean Charles Bourgeois, member of the committee of sur- veillance of war ; Pierre Ulric Dubuisson, commissioner of the executive power ; and Albert Mazuel, commander in the army. I was talking with Richard, the turnkey,, when I was apprised of the arrival of the carts. I went to see that everything was right, and while I was ex- amining the carts I saw, under a red cap drawn far down over the face of the wearer, a fair beard which I had never seen among my assistants. The man tried to walk away, but I soon identified the Englishman who had called on me the other day. He had given money to the assistants, and had obtained of them what I had refused, thinking that I would not point him out on the way to the scaffold. But I was not less obstinate than he was. We had five carts. I pretended to take him for what he gave himself to be, and I ordered him ta

tSJfe^

MEMOIRS OF

SANSONS,

take one of the carts back to my house. He hesitated, and was about to speak ; but I looked in the direction •of the gendarmes and he reluctantly obeyed ; not, how- >€ver, without making me a grimace which signified, * Au revoir' Ronsin came forward first ; his mien was calm -and proud. Clootz also was quite cool, and in no way disturbed ; he continued his apostleship, and preached to his companions, asking them not to belie their princi- ples, assuring them that the guillotine was the ultimate •end of their tribulation, that the guillotine was the end of everything ; and begging them to give to the world the sight of a republican death. His voice was hardly audible, for the convicts continued to accuse each other. As Descombes's lips were silently moving, Clootz sup- posed that he was praying, and upbraided him for his cowardice. Vincent was not so bold as during the trial, Hebert came in, supported by two turnkeys ; he had scarcely strength enough to raise his legs. He was elegantly dressed, as was his wont, with a watch in each fob, but his attire was disordered ; his face was as livid as if the knife of the guillotine had already passed through his neck ; he wept, and drops trickled down his forehead. So much cowardice was unpleasant to behold. Ronsin was highly indignant ; he did not look at his former friend, and said to Momoro : * We staked our heads, we lost the game, we must pay with courage and firmness.' The toilet began, and as I had six assistants, it only lasted a few minute.s, and the signal for departure was given. There were so many people outside that we could hear the noise and murmur of the crowd. We

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 123

-"emerged through the court of the prison. When the public saw the eighteen convicts there was a tremendous shout. This time every window was open and thousands ■of heads peered out. What is rather curious is, that the rascals who usually escort us and who used to be Hebert's friends were the most violent against him to-day. The * Pere Duchene ' was particularly insulted ; but Hebert heeded not ; he was half dead with terror. When we passed before Duplay's house, the crowd cheered lustily, as if to thank Robespierre for ridding France of un- principled rascals like Hebert. Fouquier, out of com- passion for Clootz, had ordered that he should be •executed first. Clootz, however, refused ; he wished, he said, to fortify himself in his disbelief in second life, and urge to the last upon his companions to do the same ; and he added that the privilege given him was one which one always had the right to decline. There was a dis- pute on the matter, but the clerk told me to let him have his own way. Descombes was guillotined first ; then came Mazuel, Bourgeois, Armand, Leclerc, Dubuisson, Ducroquet, Kock, Ancard, Pereira, Desfieux, Laumur, Proly, Vincent, Momoro, and Ronsin, who was extremely courageous. When only Clootz and Hebert remained, I told my assistants to take Hebert. He exclaimed in a weak voice : ' Not yet ! ' Clootz heard him, and rushed forward crying : '■ Hurrah for the fraternity of nations ! long live the Republic of the world ! ' After him, Hebert was at length strapped down. I believe he fainted away while this was being done. I made a sign to Lariviere, who was holding the rope ; but either he

124 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

did not see me or he wished to indulge the sanguinary- rage of the mob against the ' Pere Duchene,' for he did not obey. I rushed forward, took the rope out of his. hand, and pulled it myself. Enthusiastic cries of ' Vive la Republique ! ' were uttered when Hebert's head dis- appeared in the basket.

125

CHAPTER XXXVII.

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY—continued.

Germinal 5. — Everybody looked pleased yesterday. A rumour had spread that Citizens Robespierre and Danton had made peace ; that one had demanded the execution of Hebert and his friends as a token of recon- ciliation, while the other asked for the heads of the great royalist conspirators, of the deputies accused of malversation, and of Chaumette and Simon, arrested on Vent6se 28, but that after these executions the Tribunal should be ordered to measure real justice. This was one of the reasons for which such an enormous multi- tude was out yesterday. This morning there was as much alarm as there was confidence yesterday. It was said that, far from thinking of making it up with Danton, Robespierre had only struck his enemies in order to strike Danton himself Our democracy is very much like a despotism, for those who exercise power cannot resign themselves to share it with others. One of the jurors, Naudin, was saying to Sellier : * To walk behind Robespierre, Danton is too tall by a head.' It is also said that Danton, on being warned of the danger which threatens him, answered : * They would not dare ; I am

126 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

the holy ark ; and if I supposed that Robespierre thinks, of arresting me, I would eat his heart.' I think he is mistaken. The only holy ark, nowadays, is the guillotine. It is as difficult for a tribune as for a king to know the real sentiments of the people. The people admires the great demolishers, but their admiration has something of terror. Danton speaks and acts like a man, Robespierre like a prophet: the empire shall always belong to prophets. The man with the blue coat ^ has already his devotees ; the wife of Des- morets, my assistant, recites prayers before a por~ trait of Robespierre ; a good many women do as she does. However zealous in the discharge of its functions the Tribunal may be, the prisons are nevertheless full to- overflowing. To-day we executed three natives of the department of AUier, sentenced for speaking against the Revolution. Two were brothers ; the third was the son of one of them.

Germinal 6. — To-day we led to the scaffold Jean Louis Gouth, formerly constitutional bishop of Autun and member of the Constituent Assembly ; the two brothers Balleroy Charles Auguste and Frangois Auguste ; the former was a marquis and a lieutenant- general, the second a marshal ; Denis Joisel, servant of Monsieur, the King's brother, and Etienne Thery. The latter had usurped the title of representative of the people, with the mere object of obtaining gratis a good dinner in an inn. His assumption has cost him his life.

Germinal 7. — It is said everywhere that the Com- * Robespierre.

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 127

mittees are discussing the arrest of Danton. In my humble judgment, big dogs are preparing to bite, for curs bark too boldly. Valate, a terrorist, is reported to have said yesterday : * Before a week Danton, Camille Des- moulins, and Philippeaux will be arrested.' If they are taken, it will be their own fault, for the rumour is public. But one cannot run away when one's name is Danton. Executed a man and a woman : Claude Marie Lambertye and Henri Moreau, convicted of con- spiracy.

Germinal 8. — Jean-Baptiste Peusselet, formerly a monk ; Jacques Fernet, captain of dragoons and general in the service of Bavaria, suffered to-day.

Germinal 9. — The Hebertists were sold by a man named Laboureau. He called his former friends rascals, and was discharged by the Revolutionary Tribunal for his pains. The day before yesterday Laboureau went to the meeting of the Jacobins ; Legendre, who presided, complimented him and congratulated the Tribunal on its equity. Poor Citizen Legendre, you may get to know to your cost what this equity is ! Executed Jean-Baptiste Collignon, printer ; Jean-Baptiste Courtin, abbot of the Order of Cluny ; Nicolas Jean Adam, monk ; Antoine Meffre, monk ; Louis Frangois Poire, one of Talleyrand's servants ; and Jacques Harille^ merchant.

Germinal 11. — Citizens Danton, Camille Desmoulins,, Lacroix, and Philippeaux were arrested to-day and taken to the Luxembourg. Seven executions yesterday and to-day.

Germinal 12. — Citizen Legendre, member of the

128 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

Convention, has not been arrested with Danton, as was rumoured yesterday. Richard, of the Conciergerie, has received orders to prepare No. 4, the cell formerly tenanted by Hebert, and the other cells occupied by his -companions. These preparations show that Danton and liis friends will be transferred to the Conciergerie this evening or to-morrow at the latest, and that their trial will take place immediately. Such prisoners are not easy to keep. To-day we guillotined Euloge Schneider, formerly a priest, who was prosecutor of the Revolutionary Tribunal of Strasburg. He used openly to turn the Terror to his profit — that is to say, to the profit of his vices ; he went about Alsace with his tribunal, his guil- lotine, and my colleague of Strasburg, obliging the in- habitants to illuminate their houses when he passed, levying contributions, passing capital sentences, and in- citing to plunder, theft, &c., wherever he stopped. One of his friends named Tunck wishing to marry, he required the attendance of all the girls of Barr, and allowed him to choose in the lot ; and to complete his kindness, he ordered the executioner to collect money around the scaffold for the bride and bridegroom.

Soon after, he felt a desire to establish himself also, and at one o'clock in the morning he sent a peremptory order to a citizen of Barr to bring him his daughter, who was young and handsome. The unfortunate man dared not refuse. On the following day he returned to Stras- burg with the poor child, in a carriage drawn by six horses. But Citizen Saint-Just had arrived during Lis absence, and Schneider was arrested on the

CHARLES HENRI SANSON'S DIARY. 129

■same day, exhibited during three hours on his own guil- lotine, and sent off to Paris in the evening, there to be tried. This terrible Schneider has been very humble and small in my hands. He was a broad-shouldered, thick-necked man, well knit, and as strong as a bull ; his face was sinister and altogether repulsive. He tried to joke, and spoke jocosely of the thickness of his neck ; but he could not go on ; tears came to his eyes, and a tremor shot over his frame. On the Place de la Revo- lution, he called me ' Sir, sir, sir ! ' not knowing what he was saying. Before him, Louis Simon CoUivet, grocer ; Charles Brochet de Saint Priest, nobleman ; and Charles Victor Frangois de Sulabery, nobleman, were executed.

Germinal 13. — Citizen Danton and his friends have been transferred to the Conciergerie. Their trial is to take place to-morrow. The trial of the deputies charged with malversation is to take place at the same time. Fifteen men in all.

Germinal 14. — Executed Jean Masquet, cattle-dealer, and Etienne Jacques Armand de Rougemont, nobleman.

VOL. ir. K

130 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS,

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

TRIAL OF D ANTON, CAMILLE DESMOULINS, WESTER- MANN, &^c. ^-c.

Charles Henri Sanson's notes contain no informa- tion on the trial of the Dantonists. This trial, however,, my grandfather must have followed with the greatest interest. In some parts of his diary it is easy to detect his conviction that the result of the struggle between Danton and Robdspierre would be to increase or dimi- nish the number of capital sentences delivered by the Revolutionary Tribunal. No wonder that he should have been interested in this phase of the history of the Revolution. My father told me that Charles Henri was present at almost every sitting of the Revolutionary Tribunal, and related to his family all that he had seen and heard. It is perhaps owing to the emotion which he felt then that the present gap in his diary is to be ascribed.

The Danton affair is, however, of such importance that it may not be amiss to say a few words on it before we recur to Charles Henri Sanson's diary.

Whatever opinion may be held of Danton, one can- not but recognise that his overthrow was the great event m of the revolutionary period. Until then the Revolution

I

MD £\.M 1^(&W o

TRIAL OF DANTON, ETC. 131

had only struck those who might be regarded as her enemies. The impeachment of the celebrated tribune was the first blow aimed at the upholders of the Re- public ; little by little the revolutionists tore, mangled, and destroyed each other ; and finally the intervention of a Barrere or a Tallien was enough to consummate the ruin of the republican edifice.

As was said before, Camille Desmoulins, Danton, Philippeaux, and Lacroix were arrested in the night of the nth of Germinal. It has been said that Robes- pierre was adverse to this measure, but this is far from true. His personal interests were concerned in the arrest of these four men, and he afterwards betrayed his hatred for Danton and his friends by making a speech against them in the Convention. Danton, at the time, was the noble exponent of generosity and clemency. If he had all the vices of a powerful and exuberant nature, he also had high qualities ; he was disgusted at judicial massacres, and, after looking on in silence, he had spoken out and expressed his real sentiments. Public opinion had therefore identified his views with the sublime pages in which Camille Desmoulins gave vent to his patriotic grief and indignation. The natural consequence was that the fanatics who thought that blood alone could cement the revolutionary edifice, considered the death of these two men indispensable to the realisation of their dreams. As to Robespierre, his yiews were, it appears to me, more profound. Cruelty was not in his nature ; it was one of the necessities of his policy. He was too sagacious not to be aware that real popularity

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132 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

would belong to those who should speak of clemency ; and Robespierre no doubt wished to reserve this popu- larity for himself. Danton spoke of clemency before him ; that was his only crime.

Danton made no show of resistance when he was arrested. As to Camille Desmoulins, he opened his window and called for help against tyranny when the soldiers entered his room. No one answering his appeal, he resigned himself to his fate, took some books, em- braced his young wife and his child, and allowed him- self to be led off. Philippeaux and Lacroix were arrested without any difficulty. On the day after their incarceration the four prisoners were permitted to walk in the courtyard, where the inmates of the prison met. Camille was dark and sad, Lacroix was dis- heartened, Philippeaux was calm and resigned, Danton was just what he usually was, cheerful and full of power of repartee. The news of the presence of these powerful men had spread like wildfire in the prison, and all flocked to see them. A few prisoners even forgot that Danton and his friends were amongst them for taking up their cause, and insulted them. A ci-devant said, pointing to Lacroix, who was tall and strong : ' He would make a fine coachman.' Danton smiled con- temptuously. Somebody having enquired how he, Danton, could have been deceived by Robespierre, he answered that, after all, he would rather be guillotined than guillotine. Tom Payne was a prisoner in the Luxembourg at the time ; Danton shook hands with him, saying, in English : * I am glad to meet you, friend ; what you have done for the happiness and liberty of

TRIAL OF DANTONy ETC. I35

your country, I have in vain striven to do for mine. I have been less fortunate, but no guiltier than you. They now send me to the scaffold : such is my reward.'

When the four prisoners received the act of im- peachment drawn up against them, Camille Desmoulins foamed with rage, Philippeaux raised his hands to heaven, Danton laughed and rated Camille for his want of callousness. He went up to Lacroix and asked him : ' Well, what do you think of this pretty docu- ment ? ' * I think we had better make ready to meet Sanson,' answered Lacroix.

Danton was in hopes of moving the public on the day of trial ; and his expectations were certainly not over sanguine. The report of his arrest and that of Camille, who was very popular, had produced a sensation. On the nth and 12th many persons were assembled near the walls of the Luxembourg, and my father told me that they looked at the prison with astonishment, as if they expected to see it crumble down, like a new Jericho, at Danton's bidding. Camille's soul was more tender and poetical than Danton's. He thought of his young and charming wife, and of his baby son. His wife passed her days in the garden of the Luxem- bourg, and he tried to catch a glimpse of her through the bars of the prison window. He recovered his powers as a writer, and began his last number of the ' Vieux Cordelier,' his final denunciation of tyrants. He also wrote to his wife a really magnificent letter, which has been reproduced by the historians of the Revolution. Danton and his friends were transferred to the Con- ciergerie on the 13th, and were immediately brought

134 MEMOIRS OF THE SANSONS.

before the Revolutionary Tribunal. The jurors had been carefully chosen, and it was notorious that not one of them was favourable to the prisoners. Four other members of the Convention, charged with malversation, were included in the charge. These were Chabot, De- launay, Bazire, and Fabre d'Eglantine. The accusation made out against them was never proved. Other pri- soners were tried at the same time. There were thirteen in all ; but Fouquier discovered that some had been for- gotten, and the number was raised to fifteen.

The decision of the jury was a foregone conclusion, and the debates of the trial have been so often described that there is but little