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of sailed HORRORS OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION blues

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The following narrative of the atrocious massacres in the prisons in Paris, planned by Danton and his associates, on the night of the 30th and 31st of August, 1793, and known as the work of the Septemberizers, is extracted from "The History of the French Revolution," lately written by M. Thiers and M. Bodin:

Three years before, a person named Maillard figured at the head of the band of women who marched to Versailles on the famous 5th of October. This Maillard was a bailiff by occupation; in mind intelligent; in disposition, sanguinary; and, since the unquiet times of the revolution, had left every man at large to exert his own influence, without any control or impediment, he had collected together a band of ignorant and low-born associates, who were prepared for every desperate undertaking. He himself was captain of this band: and, if we may credit a discovery which transpired so long a time after the event it refers to, he was employed by Danton and his party in the execution of the most atrocious cruelties. He was ordered to place himself in a situation best calculated to effect his dire intention; to prepare instruments of death; to take every precaution to stifle the cries of his victims; and to have vinegar, holly-brooms, lime, and covered carriages in readiness for all those purposes.

On the 3rd of September, the ministers assembled at the hotel of the marine department only waited for Danton, to hold their Council. The whole city was on tiptoe. Terror reigned in the prisons. The Royal Family, to whom every noise seemed menace, anxiously demanded the cause of so much agitation. The gaolers of the several prisons appeared struck with consternaion. He who had the care of the Abbaye sent away his wife and children in he morning. Dinner was served to the prisoners two hours before the accusomed time; and all the knives were taken from their plates. Alarmed at hese circumstances, the victims demanded the cause with importunity, but

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could receive no answer. At two o'clock the general commenced beating to arms; the tocsin sounded, and the alarum cannon was fired. Troops of citizens crowded to the Champ de Mars; others surrounded the commune and the assembly; and all the public places were, in like manner, thronged

to excess.

This was the moment chosen for the transfer of eighty recusant priests from the Hotel de Ville, to the Abbaye. They were removed in hackney-coaches, escorted by Breton and some confederates, and conducted at a slow pace towards the Faubourg St. German, along the quays, the Pont Neuf, and the Rue Dauphine. The rabble surrounded the carriages, and heaped upon them every insult. The confederates pointed them out: "Behold," said they, "the conspirators who had designed to murder us, our wives, and children, whilst we were on the frontiers," These words heightened the indignation of the multitude. The doors of the coaches were opened, and the unfortunates within endeavoured to shut them in order to shelter themselves from the outrages which assailed them, but the attempt was ineffectual, and they were forced to sit patiently under the assaults of the infuriated populace. They at last arrived at the court of the Abbaye. An immense crowd had collected there to receive them. This court led to the prisons, and communicated with the saloon where the sections of the Four Nations held their sittings. The first carriage drew up before the door of the committee, and was immediately surrounded by a throng of furious-looking men. Maillard was already there. The coach door being opened the priest nearest to him descended, and was making his way towards the committee, when he fell covered with a thousand wounds. The second endeavoured to draw back, but was dragged out by force, and suffered the fate of the former. The two others shared the same fate, and their mur derers then abandoned the first carriage and betook themselves to those which followed. These entered, one after another, the fatal court, and the last of the eighty priests expired amidst the savage acclamations of the furious rabble.

At the moment of the consummation of this bloody deed, Billaud-Varrenes arrived on the spot. Of all those concerned in these frightful massacres, he alone dared constantly to approve of them, and appear personally active in their perpetration. He now came boldly forward, and, with his scarf of office on his shoulders, walked in the blood and trampled on the bodies of the murdered priests, addressing at the same time the butchering throng about him. "People," said he, "you have done your duty, you have sacrificed your enemies." The voice of Maillard was immediately after heard above the crowd. "There is nothing more to be done here," cried he, "let us go to the church of the Carmelites."

In this place 200 priests were confined The gang broke into it, and the unhappy victims, giving up all hope, ejaculated a prayer to heaven, embraced one another, and resigned themselves to death. The Archbishop of Arles was first sought out, and, being soon discovered, was despatched by a sabre cut over the neck. But the sword was found too dilatory a weapon; fire-arms were therefore resorted to, and general discharges of musketry quickly strewed the church with the bodies of the dead; some also fell in the garden, others, in attempting to climb over the walls, and some in the trees, where they had endeavoured to conceal themselves.

While this massacre was carrying on at the church of the Carmelites, Maillard, with a party of his band returned to the Abbaye. He presented himself at the section of the Four Nations, covered with perspiration and blood, and demanded "wine for his brave comrades, who had delivered the nation

from its enemies." The committee, struck with consternation, granted him twenty-four pints.

This was served out upon tables in the court, in the midst of the mangled bodies of those slain in the afternoon. This wine was scarcely drank when another atrocious scene took place, Maillard, who was the leader in all these massacres, pointing to the prison, cried out "To the Abbey." He then led the way, and was followed by his gang, who assaulted the gate of the prison with violence. The poor wretches within heard the din, and considered it a signal for their death. The gaoler and his wife fainted through fright. The doors were burst open. The first prisoners who were laid hold of were dragged out by the feet, and thrown bleeding into the court, to be butchered by the mob. Meanwhile Maillard and some of his most faithful comrades demanded the gaoler's register, and the keys of the several prisons. One of the gaolers, however, more bold than the rest, endeavoured to remon strate; and advancing towards the wicket of the door, he mounted on a stool, and addressed the multitude: " My friends," said he, "I see you are bent on the destruction of the aristocrats, the enemies of the people, who have conspired against the lives of your wives and children. In this you are undoubtedly right: but you are good citizens, you love justice, and would be shocked to dip your hands in innocent blood." "Yes, yes," cried out the executioners. I ask, then," resumed the gaoler," if you do not expose yourselves to the danger of confounding the innocent with the guilty, when you rush like tigers upon your prey, making no distinction, and listening to no appeals." Here he was interrupted by one of the gang, who flourishing his sabre, exclaimed: "Would you have us sleep in the midst of danger? If the Prussians and Austrians were at Paris, would they distinguish between guilt and innocence. I have a wife and children, whom I will not leave in danger. If you think fit, give the scoundrels arms, and we will engage an equal number of them, but Paris must be purged before we depart." "Right, right," exclaimed many voices, and a push was made forward; nevertheless they were at last prevailed on to desist, and consent to a species of trial. The gaoler's books were then given up, and it was decided that one of the band was appointed president, to read the names, and the cause of every prisoner's detention, and that immediate sentence should be passed on all the culprits. The business of electing a president now engaged the attention of all, and the name of Maillard was shouted from every quarter. The blood-thirsty butcher was, therefore, instantly invested with his terrific but congenial auhority; and, seated before a table covered with the gaoler's registers, and surrounded by a gang, chosen at random from the multitude, to assist him by their advice, the prisoners were summoned, one after another, before his ap balling judgment seat. They were led out to their trial by hands already dyed blood, and then thrust among the wild beasts, panting for their destruction. The sentence of condemnation was pronounced in these words: "To the rison of La Force," and the unfortunate victim was then precipitated through he partition which separated the judges from the executioners, and found his death on the blades of sabres already clotted with carnage.

The first who were brought before the dread tribunal were the Swiss soldiers mprisoned in the Abbaye, whose officers, had been removed to the Conciererie. "You are those," said Maillard, "who assassinated the people on e 10th of August." "But we were attacked," replied the unfortunates, and obeying our commanders." "It does not signify," resumed Maillard, oldly, and pronounced sentence, "A la Force." The wretched victims could

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not mistake the dire import of these words, for they perceived the menacing sabres on the other side of the wicket; they hung back, and crowded behind one another in fearful recoil, till one, more bold than the rest, asked, "Whither he must pass." The door was opened to him; and, stooping his head, he rushed with hopeless desperation into the midst of sabres. The rest followed his example, and shared his fate.

The females were all now locked up together in the same room, and other prisoners were brought forward. Several accused of forgery next suffered. After them the celebrated Montmorin, whose acquittal had caused so much discontent, but had not gained him his freedom, was let out. Being presented to the blood-stained president, he declared that he had been tried by the "Be it so," replied regular tribunal, and could acknowledge no other. Maillard, " prepare, nevertheless, for a different sentence." The ex-minister, who understood not this language, asked for a carriage. He was answered he would find one at the door. He then demanded permission to take with him a few necessaries, but, receiving no answer, he advanced towards the wicket, and there discovered and fell into the snare of death.

After him, Thiery, the valet-de-chambre of the king was led forward. "Like master, like man," exclaimed Maillard, and he was instantly assassinated. Buob and Bocquillon then advanced. They were accused of having been members of a secret committee held at the Toileries, and this was sufficient for their condemnation and death. The night was now fast approaching, and the prisoners, hearing the acclamations of the assassins, felt they had but a few moments to live.

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This frightful massacre lasted the whole night. The executioners and judges alternately exchanged their situations. Wine stimulated their thirst for blood, and the goblets out of which they drank were marked with the prints of their blood-dropping fingers. Yet in the midst of this carnage some victims were spared, and their lives were granted to them with every frantic demonstrations of drunken joy. One young man, who was claimed by one of the sections, and declared free from aristocracy, was acquitted in the midst of acclamations of, Long live the nation!" and carried in triumph in the blood-stained arms of the executioners. The venerable Sombreuil, governor of the invalids, was afterwards led forth and condemned. His daughter, from the middle of the prison, heard his fate pronounced, and springing forward, darted into the midst of the pikes and sabres, clung round her father, and implored mercy from the murderers in such a heart-piercing accent, and such torrents of tears. that their fury was for a moment suspended. To put her sensibility to the "Drink," said they, drink test, they offered her a goblet full of blood. bu the blood of the aristocrats!" She drank, and her father was saved. The daughter of Cazotte also succeeded in rescuing her parent in like manner; she was still more happy and obtained his safety without undergoing such horrible test of her affection.

These scenes caused tears to stream from the eyes of the assassins, yet returned immediately to demand fresh victims; and one of those who be displayed this sensibility instantly resumed his dreadful office of leading o the prisoners to death, and was on the point of killing the gaoler, beca he had not supplied his victims with water for the last twenty-four hous Another of these singular monsters interested himself in a prisoner whom was leading to the wicket, because he heard him speak the language of country. "Why are you here," said he to M. Journiac de St. Meard, you are not a traitor, the president, who is no fool, will give you just

"it is

Do not tremble, but answer me." He was presented to Maillard, who looking over the register; "Ah," said he, "M. Journiac, you are he who wrote in the journal of the court and the city." "No," replied the prisoner, a calumny; I never wrote in it." "Take care," replied Maillard," falsehood is punished here with death. Did you not recently absent yourself to jointhe army of the emigrants?" "This is another calumny," replied he;. "I have a certificate attesting that I have been for the last twenty-three months in Paris." "Whose certificate is it? Is the signature authentic?" Happily for M. Journiac a person was present to whom the subscriber of the certificate was personally known. The signature was, there, declared worthy of credit "You see then," resumed M. Journiac, "that I have been calumniated." "If the calumniator was here," replied Maillard," he should receive terrible caustic. But answer me, were you imprisoned here for nothing?" "No," answered M. Journiac, "I was known for an aristocrat." "Aristocrat?" "Yes, aristocrat; but you are not here to judge of opinions, but actions; mine are blameless; I have never conspired; my soldiers, in the regiment which I command, are devoted to me, and, when at Nancy, urged me to seize on Malseigne." Struck with such courage, his judges fixed their eyes on him with astonishment, and Maillard gave him the signal of pardon. Immediately the cries of "Long live the nation !" resounded from all parts. All hastened to embrace him; and two of the by-standers, enclosing him in their arms, led him safe and sound through the hedge of swords and pikes which a few minutes before menaced his life. M. Journiac offered them money, but they refused it, and only asked permission to embrace him. Another prisoner, saved in the same manner, was conducted to his house with similar enthusiasm. The executioners, all covered with blood, begged to be permitted to witness the joy of his family, and immediately returned to the carnage. In such a state of over-wrought excitement, the mind is keenly alive to all the emotions and instincts of its nature; they succeed each other rapidly and convulsively, alternately melting and firing the soul, and hurrying those who have resigned themselves to their unrestrained sway from one extreme to the other with wild caprice; the passions, which seemed one moment quenched in tears, rise the next in flame; the whole man is subject to delirious changes, aud he weeps and assassinates, with the same heartfelt sincerity, in the short space of a few minutes. Whilst wading in blood, he is arrested by admiration of courage or devotion; he is sensible of the honor of appearing just, and vain of the semblance of disinterestedness. The events of the deplorable period which we are now narrating afford many instances of these contrarieties; and among this number must be recorded the circumstance of the robbers and murderers of this night depositing the jewels found on some of the prisoners with the committee of the abbey.

But the massacre of the captives was not confined to one prison. The gang, having set their tools to work at the abbey, detached parties to follow their example at the Chatelet, the Conciergerie, the Barnadius Salpetriere, and the Bicetre prisons, all of which were surrounded with mangled carcasses and streams of blood. When the morning dawned upon the havoc of this frightful night the spectacle it presented to the broad glare of day was as sickening as it was horrifying. Billaud-Varrennes repaired early to the abbey, where, the evening before, he had encouraged his workmen, as he termed them. He nów again addressed them. "My friends," said he, " in slaughtering these wretches you have saved your country. France owes you an eternal debt of gratitude, and the municipality is at a loss how to acknowledge your merit,

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