1794. A Tale of the Terror. From the French ('Les Aventures de Deux Parisiennes pendant la Terreur') ... by Mrs. C. Hoey

Preface

. The story to which I have given the title of "1794: A Tale of the Terror," is known to French readers as "Les Aventures de deux Pari siennes pendant la Terreur." Its author, M. Charles d'Hencault, holds a high rank among con temporary French writers. It is a responsible privilege to present a story by M. Charles d'Hericault to a foreign public in a foreign version. I have selected this one for that purpose, because it is especially representative of the author's talents, and also because it is closely allied to his important historical work "La Revolution," in which certain phases of the action and influence of the Great French Revolution, which

PREFACE.

VI have been generally ignored or neglected by other writers, are portrayed with remarkable lucidity and effect. In the numerous histories, memoirs, essays, and tales that deal with the Revolution, the chief interest generally attaches to the lingering agony of royalty in France, the strife of parties, the over throw of institutions, and the substitution of a new social system for the old one, with its sanction of centuries. Pictures of the action of the Revolution on the order of French nobility abound, and these have been drawn from every point of view, in cluding the fulsomely adulatory and the pitilessly adverse. Pictures of the action of the Revolution on the order of French peasantry also abound, and are almost as widely various. But from these we obtain, at best, only passing and superficial glimpses of the action of the Revolution upon the middle class masses in Paris and the other great towns of France, who were not sent to the guillotine, who lived outside of the storm-circle, but upon whom it produced the gravest moral effects. The children of those middle-class masses formed what

PREFACE.

. VII historians have called " that generation of the French people who grew up without a religion." The writings of M. Charles d'Hericault are especially valuable for the light which they throw on this branch of a vast and engrossing subject. The story to which I have the privilege of inviting atten tion illustrates it in a novel manner. In 1794, the grotesque side of the tragic situation in France was constantly turned out. Bloodshed and ribald absurdity were conjointly the order of the day ; that combination of tiger and ape, which the philosopher of Ferney declared his countrymen to present, was in salient evidence. The grand acts of the tragedy had been performed ; the majestic corpses had all been buried ; a mere orgy of murder was in progress. Veuve Capet in her coffin (price seven francs), Marie Therkse of France, in her mean prison-chamber, were forgotten together with the Girondists, with Danton, with Desmoulins.

The Terror had spread, like the smallpox in the time of Louis XV., from the palace to the people. Contagion of another kind had long been doing its work: the contagion of loss of faith, loss of

PREFACE.

. VIII respect, loss of modesty, the dislocation of family ties, the corruption of good manners by evil communications, the drying up of the sources of compassion, the unsexing of women. In company with these evils, springing from them, nurtured by them, came the impish absurdities, the cynical follies, the preposterous affectations, that are almost as revolting to our minds, and which had an important share in the moral deterioration of France. The sham paganism that made Lares and Penates of the busts of Marat and Le Peletier, and crowned them daily with flowers ; the sham classicism that instituted Fetes of the Decades, and put the wearisome plays of which M. d'He*ricault tells us on the stage of Moliere's theatre, the sham fraternity that decreed public meals, the sham naturalism that forbade all restriction on speech and action, and reversed eA^ery law by which the social life of women had previously been regulated ; these were in full force, and had their farthest fling in 1794. The author whom I have ventured to interpret shows us all those evils in action. The two youn° girls who play the principal parts in his striking

PREFACE.

. IX drama are typical figures ; the incidents take place within the sphere of ordinary bourgeois life ; the notorious personages of the time are only acci dentally involved in the action and issues of the narrative. M. d'H6*ricault surrounds them with that atmosphere which the whole of France had to breathe; he sets upon them that impress with which the whole of France was stamped — the atmos phere and the impress of The Terror, in 1794. Frances Cashel Hoey. CONTENTS. ■ — ♦ — CHAP. PAGE I. The Clock Pavilion . . . . .1 II. Lieutenant Crassus and his Friends . . .21 III. Under the Balcony . . . . .33 IV. The Little Nightingale . . . . .45 V. A Princess of the Year II. . . . . .60 VI. Republicans at Home . . . . .72 VII. The Committee of the Bonnet Rouge . . .87 VIII. At the Convention . . . . .110 IX.

The First Decade of Messidor . . . .127 X. A Visit to the Comite du Salut Public . . .139 XI. The Fete of the Decade . . . . .151 XII. A Twofold Crisis 164 XIII. The Arrest 180 XIV. Desperate Efforts . . . . . .208 XV. A Proposal of Marriage ..... 227 XVI. The Comite de Sdrete Generate . . . .252 XVII. Lise and Emilie 268 XVIII. A Man and a Revolutionist ..... 284 XIX. Robespierre at Home . . . . .299 XX. The Revolutionary Tribunal . . . .317 XXI. Betrothed in the Tumbril 336 XXII. The Faubourg Antoine . . . . .347 1794- A TALE OF THE TERROR.

Chapter I. The Clock Pavilion

In 1792, there stood, facing the Clock Pavilion (recently destroyed), in the centre of the wall that separates the palace of the Tuileries from the Place du Carrousel, and consequently almost in the place afterwards occupied by the Arc de Triomphe, a house which was known as the Logis du Suisse. On the fatal 10th of August this house was partially burned; it subsequently underwent some rough repair, and in 1792 was used as a guard-house by the Grenadier-gendarmes of the Convention. Usually twelve men, commanded by a quarter master, occupied the house at night ; but on the 30th Prairial, Year II. (June 18, 1794), came an unexpected order, that the post was to be doubled, and the command given to a lieutenant. Lieutenant Crassus proved very hard to find. At last he was unearthed at the Lyc6*e-des-Arts, Jardin Egalite* (the Palais Royal), where he was slumbering sweetly while pretending to listen to the new opera, La Triomphe des Arts Utiles.

It was impossible, even for a spoiled child of the Republic like Paul Crassus, to evade compliance with an order issued by the Comite* du Salut Public ; but he might obey it slowly, and murmur inwardly. The lieutenant appeared at length, a little before midnight, and learning that there was no apparent cause for all this stir, he left the guard-room in a hurry that he might swear at his ease. He was striding up and down in front of theLogis du Suisse, and each time that he approached the Clock Pavilion he objurgated a very tall grenadier who had followed him. The grenadier hid himself more deeply in the shadow of the wall in proportion as the shower of abuse increased. Before long the sweet freshness of the starlit night, the impassive calm of the face of nature, appeased the ire of Lieutenant Paul Crassus.

He forgot the tall grenadier, and began to hum the ribald popular song, La Papesse Jeanne (Pope Joan). Presently he betook himself to muttering scraps of verse. The grenadier coughed, and Paul turned round quickly. "Come here, Domingo, you ci-devant nigger. What did I say to you when you had the audacity to come and wake me up at the Lyce*e-des-Arts ?" The grenadier turned on the speaker the wide, flat face of a negro, which broadened itself out still farther in a good-humoured laugh. "First you say nothing at all, Massa Citizen Paul ; you give me two kicks in the back, pis, pas ! then after you speak, and say Domingo a bad watch-dog, because he tell Lieutenant Crassus not sick at all, but gone to the theatre. After, you begin again, pis, pas ! in the back, and promise to make great sorcerer, La Bussiere, bite off poor Domingo's nose, and then come more pis, pas, hi, hi !

" " And afterwards ? " " You tell Domingo to slip a note under the door of the pretty citizeness, Dubois Joli, very clever, to morrow morning." ".That's all right. Don't forget to ask for the note to-morrow morning; you understand? But mind, I tell you that La Bussiere will turn your ears into those of an ass, if ever citizeness Lise Dubois Joli finds out that the letter comes from me." The negro again withdrew into the shade, and planted himself upright against the wall, while the lieutenant resumed his walk, repeating half aloud : " Quand les Ris et les Jeux, fatigu.s de Cythere Et de Venus, leur mere "Bah ! am I never to find a rhyme except in 'ere ! Sorciere ? '" cried he, turning towards the negro, who started violently. Paul burst out laughing, and called him to his side. "You don't know what a rhyme is, do you, Domingo?

No! Well, then, you are just the companion that suits me. See here, Domingo, the subject of the 'posy' which I am going to send to the lovely Lise is simple, but I consider it very tasteful. Laughter and Play, having played truant from Heaven, come down to earth to discover whether the modern Republican era has destroyed the Empire of their brother, Love." With this the lieutenant began to dance, much to the amazement of Domingo, who had not the re motest notion what he was talking about. "Laughter and Play alight in Paris, Rue de Sevres, at the house of the worthy magistrate, Dubois Joli. Enraptured at the sight of his daughter Lise, 'the Wood Nightingale,' as she is called, they de clare that from henceforth they Avill desert the Empyrean, and that for the Loves and Graces the true Olympus is the Republic.

This is ingenious and original." " Officers' round ! " cried the sentinal. "What is this," growled the officer, approaching Lieutenant Paul Crassus; "walking about in the open, Citizen Lieutenant ? Eh, what ? It's you, is it, my young ' muscadin.' The order is as strict as it can be. No one is to be permitted to go outside of the National Palace to-night. The gate of the Convention is absolutely shut. The gate of the Pavi lion of Equality is open to members of the Comite* de Surete" Ge*n6*rale only ; that of the Pavilion of Liberty is open to members of the Comite* de Salut Public. Go at once, shut the doors of the Great Vestibule under the Clock Pavilion— I mean to say the Pavilion of Unity. You will leave the wicket-gate in the railing on this side, which faces the Place du Car rousel, ajar.

A sentinel will be placed there, with orders to allow no one whomsoever to pass through, without an express order from one of the two Government Committees. This under pain of death. AU right; you may go." " All right, Commandant Dumesnil. You have heard, Domingo; and it is you who shall mount guard at midnight ; that is to say, in five minutes. You have heard ; under pain of death ! But, may the ci-devant devil fly away with the gunners, Commandant, if I understand the meaning of this order." " Why should you want to understand it, when your own commandant is supposed to knoAV nothing at all about it. HoAvever, you are my young friend, 'muscadin' as you are, and if you wiil listen you shall learn the mystery. Know, then, that the four hundred and ninety-seventh conspiracy of the aristocrats has just been discovered.

Yes, and this is the ingenious device of those rascals : some one comes each night and carries away the denunciations recorded in the books that are kept in the bureaux of the Comite* de Salut Public, in the Pavilion of Flora. I mean to say, of Liberty. So that things are going to the devil, and Fouquier Tinville's accounts do not add up correctly." " Hush, Commandant ! mind what you are about. You might be taken for a ' compassionator.' * But, do you know the daughter of the citizen-magistrate of the Bonnet-rouge section?" "The beauty of the Rue de Sevres? I should so, indeed !" " And Laughter, and Play, and the Loves and Graces, Commandant ?" " You puppy ! May the genius of Liberty at least snip off your tail ! Yet, you are my young friend, eh ? And besides, what is to be expected from a man who keeps company with La Bussiere the joker ?

" With this, Commandant Dumesnil walked off, satisfied that everything was all right. Midnight struck : the brigadier, after having received his orders from the lieutenant, posted Domingo at the railed gate of the Vestibule. He shut this gate, but set ajar a small door in the railings, and gave orders that this was to be kept open, while no one whatever should be allowed to go out or come in. •Apitoyeur " Under pain of death !" he repeated, as he left the spot. The brigadier re-entered the guard-house, whither the lieutenant had preceded him. All was now pro foundly quiet. From this moment the brain of the good negro, who was an ardent patriot, as strong as an ox, but as stupid as an owl, began to be disturbed. Why was a door to be left open if nobody was to be allowed to pass in or out ? He shook his head violently, in a desperate effort to master this bewildering mystery, and then, being, no doubt, under the impression that his heavy grenadier cap militated against the cus tomary lucidity of his ideas, he pulled it off, and flung it angrily upon the ground.

Domingo had been for some time one of the hun dred and forty-four grenadier-gendarmes of the Con vention. He was indebted for this position to Citizen Nicholas, also a negro, who was a friend of Robes pierre and his partner in a printing business, and to Citizen Crassus, deputy for Ile-de-Vert, and Lieu tenant Paul's uncle. Domingo had been brought from Martinique by Citizen Crassus, and after he had been made to represent various oppressed Peoples at the republican fetes, he was promoted to the picked corps of grenadier-gendarmes. The genius of Liberty had not yet had time to illumine the negro's brain with its divine light. The good Domingo began to suspect that it was not the hairy cap only which obscured his intelligence, for he flung his vest wide open, and undid the top buttons of his long gaiters.

Then, taking his gun by the barrel, and carrying it with the stock straight up, he marched up and down between the two lamps which hghted the entrance of the Ves tibule. Suddenly he started back. A man, so imper fectly visible in the semi-darkness, that it could only be ascertained that he was of tall stature, presented himself at the wicket with the intention of leaving the palace. The insolence of such an intention when he, Domingo, had orders to the contrary, was the only idea that occurred to the negro. "Under pain of death!" he growled, and brought the stock of his gun down upon the stranger. Hap pily for himself, the latter was quick and active ; he sprang back, and said, in a tone of raillery, and in a jolly, sonorous voice : " Upon my word, citizen negro, no one would take you to belong to the tribe of the one-armed Tartars* Fortunately I am a sorcerer, and saw by the shape of your shoulders that you were going to deal me a blow like a man."

Domingo thought he recognised this cool person age ; nevertheless, he resumed his weapon, and this time presenting the bayonet, he cried : » This is, in the original, a play upon the words manchoo and manchot (one-armed). " You no pass. All doors shut : this one open, but not for pass." " I know very well that they are shut. Do you mean to insult me, blacky ? I tell you I will pass." " No pass," answered the negro, " under pain of death." " I will pass, I tell you. Do you see this card ? It is a pass for an employe" in the service of the Comite* de Salut Public. I havre just created that card by the sole power of my art, and it gives me the right to go in and to come out. You do not know how to read, eh?" Domingo did not, in fact, know how to read, but he recognised the card shown to him as the "pass" of a clerk in the bureaux of the Govern ment.

This was a permanent permit for entry and exit at the Tuileries. How, then, was Domingo to reconcile the right of exit which the bearer of this card possessed, with his own absolute right to prevent his using it ? The problem was impossible for Domingo to solve. Nevertheless, because the idea of the command he had received was the last in his mind, and he reflected that the card was older than the orders of the brigadier, he answered : " No pass. Order to shut everywhere, stop every one, kill every one. Somebody has stolen papers from the Committees to save aristocrats. Com mittees want to catch thief. Shut doors to take the helper of the tyrants like a rat — traitor to the country." The stranger was unable to repress a start, and although his voice still preserved its tone of laugh ing raillery, it trembled slightly.

"Ah," said he, "it has been discovered that papers, compromising to the aristocrats have disap peared, and you have the audacity to accuse me of the theft ! I know you, Domingo, for I know everything, and I will get the citizeness Emilie Crassus, your master's daughter, to box your ears." And then, counting upon what he knew of the negro, and taking it for granted that he would offer no further opposition, the bold speaker advanced, and was about to pass through the gate. But Domingo, although the whites of his eyes were ex tended to their utmost dimensions, and his com plexion had changed from a fine shiny black to a dull gray, continued to point his bayonet straight at him. "Poor nig die for the country hke white Scæ vola," said Domingo, resignedly. "You know everything ; you know Domingo hate the helpers of tyrants."

" But, you fool," replied the stranger, now de cidedly anxious, "why do you suppose I would come in the night to steal papers which I have at my disposal all day long, as a clerk in the bu reaux ?" "You are right, Citizen Sorcerer." The man advanced again, thinking that he had now effectually disposed of Domingo's objections ; but the more unansAverable the argument appeared to the negro, the more it troubled him ; for the less he could comprehend the order he had received to refuse passage to all without exception, and under pain of death. Thus, unable to make anything of the contradictory arguments which beset his brain, he shook his big woolly head frantically, like a dog with a swarm of wasps about his ears, and in the midst of the stillness of the starry night, he began to shout in a stentorian voice : " Help ! help !

Ho ! Here are the friends of the tyrants of Pitt and Coburg, of the Aristocrats, and the Royalists, the Federalists, the Moderates, the Brissotists, the Fayettists, the Indulgents, the Compassionates, the He*bertists, the Dantonists." And so he continued to run through the long list of enemies, whom the revolutionists had denounced to the populace since 1789. The discharge of this volley of abusive epithets was unspeakably delightful to Domingo. All the time, however, that he was uttering them one after the other with the utmost volubility, and swinging himself about on his herculean legs as though he were listening to dance music, he kept the point of his bayonet turned upon the stranger. The latter retreated, and darted into the semi darkness, which was easily done, for only two lamps lighted the centre of the Great Vestibule.

Then he hurriedly drew from one of the wide and swollen pockets of his old square-tailed coat a large clasp knife, which he passed behind his back. He opened the knife and returned to the wicket, where the negro was making wild passes with his bayonet. Domingo, engrossed by his patriotic eloquence, was not likely, notwithstanding his strength, to offer any very formidable resistance. But the man paused abruptly, closed his knife, and replaced it in his pocket. "No," he thought, " I will not commit this crime, I who risk my life daily to diminish the mass of crimes that are com mitted here. They have nick-named me the fool, the buffoon, the practical joker, but they shall not say La Bussiere the assassin. Who knows whether, after my death, and when all this is finished and done with, they may not chant the praise of La Bussiere the hero !"

So versatile was the humour of La Bussiere that he actually laughed aloud. The astonished Domingo stopped suddenly in the midst of his howling, and regarded the sorcerer with alarm. Then, seeing that the latter had crossed his arms and was leaning against the wall in an easy atti tude, and with an air of indifference, he took the laugh for applause, and began to shout more loudly than ever. The first person to appear, in response to Do mingo's bellowings, came, sword in hand, from the interior of the palace. He approached from the right, on which side the halls and bureaux of the Comite* de Surete* Geherale were situated, in the Pavilion Marsan. Nearer to the Vestibule were the former theatre, the amphitheatre, and the chapel, now become the haU and dependencies of the Convention and the Committees.

The new comer, whose costume, although its details were indistinct, was evidently military, asked, in a sonorous and manly voice, with some sternness in its tone of command : "Now, then, what is the matter ? Have the im prisoned aristocrats and suspects put the plans that are talked of into execution ? Have they forced the doors. Are they coming to besiege the Convention and the Committees ? " " To assassinate the members, and to broil and eat their livers," said La Bussiere, with ironical gravity, which made the new-comer regard him with great surprise. " No, no, not at all, Massa Citizen. I had my orders, no one to pass under pain of death. He had a pass from the Committee, obedience to that is under pain of death too, and he wanted to go out. I wanted to kill him to get rid of the trouble ; but I know him well ; he is a real devil.

You, Massa Citizen, look at this paper, and tell poor nig whether he ought to let him pass." He held out the card to the officer, but at the same time he kept his bayonet fixed in the direction of La Bussiere, as he said : "You hold paper tight, for the sorcerer he change paper as easily as I change my breeches." " This concerns the officer commanding the post," said the new-comer, with haughty coldness, " but I don't mind giving you my opinion, grenadier, especially," here his Aroice softened, and grew sad, "as it is not your fault, but that of the persecution that has pursued your wretched race, that your intelligence " Delicacy, no doubt, restrained him from finishing his sentence aloud. He took a few steps towards the interior of the Vestibule, and drew near one of the lamp-posts, to read what was written upon the card.

La Bussiere, after a moment's hesitation, and having again glanced despairingly at the sentinel, shrugged his shoulders carelessly, and as he ap proached the stranger burst into a laugh that made Domingo shudder. The stranger was trying to read the card, by stretching his arm up as high as possible towards the smoky lamp. " Comite de Salut Public. Fifth division. Prisoners'1 bureaux. Section of Correspondence. Citizen Charles Delabussiere, cleric." On reading this name the officer turned sharply round. " Citizen La Bussiere," said he, "the jester, the practical joker, the buffoon ?" " You mean the madman, the giddy -pate, the im petuous feather-headed fellow, who can never refrain from a joke, catch a glimpse of a folly without plung ing into it, or imagine a mystification, or a piece of mischief without carrying it out.

I know this negro, I have heard a great deal about him, and I wanted to practise upon his credulity, which is ex treme." " Once more, excuse me, citizen. I did not mean to say anything of this kind. I am aware that the citizen La Bussiere is as kind as he is honest, as trustworthy as he is brave." It was strange that La Bussiere could not refrain from trembling while these compliments were glibly uttered. "We are lost," he thought, "Brutus has been unmasked. Nevertheless, he carelessly tossed his hair off his forehead, repeated the characteristic shrug of his shoulders, and said, with his arch smile : "I see that I am perfectly well known A hero and an enchanter : that is myself to the life ? Let us ascend to the Capitol and thank the gods. I am off there, immediately. Be so good, citizen, as to induce this darky not to offer any impediment to my civic piety."

The stranger tried hard to get a good look at La Bussiere' s face; but the lamp gave only a feeble and flickering light, and the incessant restlessness of the object of his observation defeated his purpose. "I wanted to ask you whether I was mistaken, or whether you really are the nephew of Citizen, Dubois Joli, judge of the Bonnet-rouge Section, who lives at the far end of the Rue de Sevres ?" " The ' virtuous ' Dubois ? It is he ; it is I ?" " The cousin of Citizeness Lise ?" " The little Nightingale of the fanwood ?* It is she, it is I ?" " And not only the cousin, but the betrothed of that lovely lady?" continued the stranger, still trying to get a good look at the other's face. "Ha ! by the goddess, it is my turn now. To whom have I the honour of speaking ?" "To Commandant La Raison."

La Bussiere started. " To the devil with etiquette and diplomacy ! My prestige in the eyes of this negro will be hope lessly lost, but I cannot refrain from embracing you." So saying, he flung his arms round the young officer, who was about his own age, i.e., twenty four, and pressed him to his breast : "Commandant La Raison, who was so good to my little Nightingale, and to my dear aunt, whom I love almost as well, at the Siege of Landrecies. Ah, ha, did not I say the right thing, just this * A play upon the young lady's name, "Bois-Joli." minute, a hero and an enchanter ! That is the true description of you, if we are, to believe our aunt, of whom you have made a complete conquest. As for cousin Lisette, she is an ungrateful little puss, and never talks of you now." All this had been said in a very short space of time ; but the shouts of the negro had already at tracted several persons to the spot.

Several grenadiers of the Convention, gunners, and guards of the sections arrived on the scene ; but as Domingo was quite as determined that no one should go in as that no one should come out, he kept off the soldiers who came too close to the railing with hearty blows of the stock of his gun, while he watched the two persons inside the barrier with distended eyes. This spectacle seemed to arouse the Commandant to a sense of reality, and to dispel the shadow of reserve that had fallen upon him since he had uttered the name of "Lise." "But," he said, suddenly, and speaking in a still lower tone, "you wanted to get out of the National Palace at this undue hour. That must be because you have no right to be here. No doubt you are incurring some danger?" "Yes," replied La Bussiere, after a momentary pause.

" A great danger — the danger of death ?" " Yes ; the danger of death." "Will you swear to me that what you have come here to do does not concern the safety of the Republic ?" "Not in the least, unless the Republic cannot live without taking off the heads of the virtuous Dubois and the pretty little Nightingale." " What ! is she in danger ? But no : that is im possible ! Who are the monsters that could think of harming so charming a creature ? Besides, I observe by your tone, citizen, that you have not that veneration for the Republic which ought to animate the breast of every citizen. " Parbleu !" cried La Bussiere, gaily, "and I a clerk in the bureaux of the Comite* de Salut Public ! Reared in the seraglio, citizen ! " The Commandant made a gesture of impatience, but he said nothing. "Adieu, then!" said La Bussiere.