The Sword of Honor; or, The Foundation of the French Republic

by Eugène Sue

  CHAPTER XXXV.

  DEATH OF ROBESPIERRE.

  Eight months after the events of Thermidor just described, I, JohnLebrenn, write this chapter of the story of the Sword of Honor, on the26th Germinal, year III of the Republic (April 15, 1795).

  Escaped from my prison, I lay for several weeks in hiding in a retreatoffered me by the friendship of Billaud-Varenne; to him I also owed apassport made out in another name, thanks to which I was enabled toleave Paris, gain Havre, and there take a coasting vessel for Vannes. Ichose Vannes as a haven not alone because I was unknown in that retiredcommunity, but because it was close by the cradle of our family, towardswhich, after such excitement and such cruel political deception, I feltmyself strongly attracted. At the end of about a month's sojourn inVannes, certain then that I could continue to dwell there withoutdanger, I wrote to my wife to rejoin me in Brittany, with her mother andour son, whom she had named Marik, and who was born the 7th Vendemiaire,year III. Thus I had the joy of being soon reunited with my family. Mywife brought with her the inestimable treasure of our domestic legends,happily preserved from the clutches of Jesuit Morlet. My wound, receivedat the battle of the Lines of Weissenburg, having reopened, I was forsome time almost helpless, and was forced to give up my trade ofironsmith. Madam Desmarais was able to lay out for us some moneys, andCharlotte proposed that they be expended in setting up a linen-draperyand cloth store in Vannes.

  This business afforded my wife and mother-in-law an occupation in linewith their tastes and aptitudes. For my part I was able, although stillvery lame, to drive about in a carriage to the various markets and outinto the country, to dispose of our cloth. Everything gave me to hopethat my obscure name was forgotten in the hurly-burly of theThermidorean reaction.

  A short time after the arrival here of my cherished wife, we made apilgrimage to the sacred stones of Karnak; we found them as they hadlain for so many centuries. You will undertake that same pilgrimage foryourself when you have attained the age of reason, my son Marik, you towhom I bequeath this legend of the Sword of Honor, which I add to therelics of my family.

  I conclude my recital of the events of the bourgeois revolution of 1789with a few words on the last moments of the martyrs of the 9thThermidor, the words of a hostile eye witness. What could be moretouching than his account:

  "Robespierre the elder was carried to the City Hall, to the Committee of Public Safety, on the 10th Thermidor, between the hours of one and two in the morning. He was carried in on a board, by several artillerymen and armed citizens. He was placed on a table in the audience hall which lay in front of the executive room of the committee. A pine box, which held some samples of bread sent from the Army of the North, was placed under his head and served in some sort as a pillow. He lay for the space of nearly an hour so immobile that one might think he had ceased to live. Then he began to open his eyes. Blood flowed freely from the wound in his lower left jaw. The jawbone was shattered by a pistol shot. His shirt was bloody; he was hatless and cravatless. He wore a sky-blue coat, and trousers of nankeen; his white stockings were rolled down to his shoes. Between three and four in the morning they noticed that he held in his hand a little bag of white skin, inscribed 'At the Grand Monarch; Lecourt, outfitter to the King and his troops, St. Honore Street, near Poulies Street, Paris.' This sack he used to dispose of the clotted blood which came from his mouth. The citizens surrounded him, observing all his movements. Some of them even gave him a piece of white linen paper, which he put to the same use, keeping himself ever propped up on his left elbow, and using only his right hand. Two or three different times he was scolded at by citizens, but especially by a cannonier of the same district as himself, who reproached him, with military vigor, for his perfidy and scoundrelism. Towards six in the morning a surgeon who happened to be in the courtyard of the National Palace was called in to tend him. For precaution he placed a key in Robespierre's mouth, and found that his jaw was fractured. He drew two or three teeth, bandaged the wound, and had a hand-basin with water placed beside him. Robespierre made use of this, and also of pieces of paper folded several times, to clean out his mouth, still employing only his right hand. At the moment when it was least expected, he sat up, raised his stockings, slid quickly from the table, and ran to seat himself in an arm-chair. As soon as seated he asked for water and some clean linen. During all the time he had lain on the table, after he regained consciousness, he fixedly regarded all who surrounded him, especially those employes of the Committee of Public Safety whom he recognized. He often raised his eyes toward the platform; but apart from some almost convulsive movements, the bystanders constantly remarked in him a great impassibility, even during the dressing of his wound, which must have caused him the severest pain. His complexion, habitually bilious, assumed the pallor of death.

  "At nine o'clock in the morning Couthon, and Gombeau, a conspirator of the Commune, were brought in on stretchers as far as the big staircase of the Committee, where they were deposited. The citizens detailed to watch them stood about, while a commissioner and an officer of the National Guard went to report to Billaud-Varenne, Barrere and Collot D'Herbois, then sitting in committee. They took an order to these three calling for Robespierre, Couthon and Gombeau to be removed at once to the Conciergerie Prison, a decree which was immediately carried out by the good citizens to whom had been confided the guard over the three prisoners.

  "St. Just and Dumas were taken before the Committee in the audience hall, and at once taken on to the Conciergerie by those who had brought them in. St. Just gazed at the large engrossing of the Declaration of the Rights of Man, and said, as he pointed towards it, 'Yet it was I who got that passed!'

  "Such was the downfall of Robespierre. His agony was more cruel than his death. His erstwhile colleagues on the committees insulted him, struck at him, spat in his face; the clerks of the bureau pricked him with their penknives."

  So died Robespierre by the guillotine. Let us glorify, sons of Joel, thememory of this great citizen, the Incorruptible revolutionist. And assacred for us let the memory be of the other illustrious martyr-victimsof Thermidor, like St. Just, Lebas, Couthon, Robespierre the younger; ormartyrs obscure, like that throng of patriots whose blood flowed fromthe scaffold in torrents during the Four Days. The reaction of Thermidorsmote with the guillotine without judgment; it assassinated the greaterpart of the last defenders of the Republic.

  PART III.

  NAPOLEON