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Pathological Studies of the Past. 
 
 furious 
 
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 BEING 
 
 MEDICO-HISTORICAL STUDIES aM OBSERVATIONS 
 
 BY Dr. Cabanes 
 
 Frontispiece by DANIEL VIERGE 
 
 Enirayel on Copner ly F. MASSE 
 
 PARIS 
 
 IMAEILIS €AEMIM©f€)M 
 
 13, Faubourg Montmartre, 13 
 
 1898 
 
STUDIES BY A PHYSICIAN 
 
 ON THE 
 
 CURIOUS BYPATHS OF HISTOKY 
 
EDITION LIMITED 
 
 TO 500 COPIES 
 
 ALL PRESS-NUMBERED AND PRINTED, WITHOUT EXCEPTION, ON 
 
 VAN GELDER'S vellum paper, numbered from 1 to 500 
 THE PRESENT COPY IS 
 
 M 225 
 
ARR iKqrojf. Lo.tbu 
 
 16^ 7 
 
 ^^U5i 
 
Pathological Studies of the Past. 
 
 €uriou9 
 
 $i)|)fltl)§ of distort) 
 
 BEING 
 
 MEDICO-HISTORICAL STUDIES aM OBSERVATIONS 
 BY Dr. Ca banes 
 
 Frontispiece by DANIEL VIERGB 
 
 UmU on Copper liy F. MASSE 
 
 [^Rights of Reproduction reserved] 
 
 PARIS 
 
 LIBRAIRIE DES BIBLIOPHILES 
 
 13, Faubourg Montmartre, 13 
 
 1898 
 
IT 
 
 Ca5 
 
 Zo tbe IRea&er. 
 
 THIS BOOK FOR MEN ALONE IS MEANT, 
 BOOK-WORMS, OR BIBLIOPHILES ANENT, 
 OF SOLID MIND, OF SERIOUS BENT, 
 ON CURIOUS, HIDDEN BOOKS INTENT, 
 ON ODD RESEARCH AND LEARNING. 
 
 SHOULD PASTIME ALL THE THOUGHTS ENGAGE, 
 OR TRIFLES OF THE PRESENT AGE, 
 ITS WORDS WILL NOT THY THIRST ASSUAGE, 
 CLOSE IT AT ONCE, ITS SLIGHTEST PAGE 
 WILL NOT REPAY THY TURNING. 
 
 FROM MAIDS AND INEXPERIENCED YOUTHS 
 PRITHEE CONCEAL ITS BITTER TRUTHS. 
 
 PISANUS FRAXI. 
 
FOREWORD 
 
Forsitan haec aliquis, nam sunt quoque, parva vocabit: 
 
 Sed, quae iion prosunt singula, multa juvant. 
 
 OVID. 
 
Whoever hesitates to utter that which he thinks the highest truth, lest it 
 should be too much in advance of the time, may reassure himself by looking at his 
 acts from an impersonal point of view. Let him duly realize the fact that opinion 
 is the agency through which character adapts external arrangements to itself— that 
 his opinion rightly forms part of this agency— is a unit of foi-ce, constituting, with 
 other such units, the general power wliicli works out social changes, and he will 
 perceive that he may properly give full utterance to his innermost conviction, 
 leaving it to produce what effect it may.— J ferberl Speticer. 
 
 EDITOR'S FOREWORD. 
 
 [Ten Minutes with the Reviewers]. 
 
 The pathology of history is one of the most fascinating studies 
 that can occupy the attention whether of the general reader or 
 the professional man. It contains surprises beside which the 
 revelations of the sensational novel dwindle into commonplace. 
 Studies like these, moreover, derive increased interest from the 
 fact of being based on documentary evidence. Such proofs we 
 admit, are not of a nature always to carry conviction to minds 
 steeped in scepticism, but they are the only kind procurable, and, 
 it must not be overlooked that, life itself is largely made up 
 of a more or less fine balancing of probabilities. The task of 
 the modern historian is less to discover new truths than to strip 
 off the lies that have grown up clustering around the old tradi- 
 tions. We do not pretend that new material is no longer to be 
 found. The contents of the present work would sufficiently 
 refute any such theory. 
 
 It is with much misgiving that we issue the present book. 
 Its predecessor, entitled "The Secret Cabinet of History", was 
 received with " such a shout " , as a Hibernian friend called it, " of 
 ominous Silence" by the English Press that small kindness is 
 expected for the present venture. 
 
 Liberties of expression which in the French tongue are regarded 
 
 ivi200400 
 
VIII CURIOUS BYPATHS OP HISTORY 
 
 as the common currency of conversation were in the more 
 boisterous English toned down to the point of delicac}', Avhile 
 others scarcely capable of such attention were left to languish in 
 their original garb untranslated. But even these precautions 
 were not sufficient for what honest old Doctor Johnson would 
 have stigmatised as, the muck- and gutter-hunters, and copies sent 
 out for review were quietly appropriated without the slightest 
 mention or, in one or two instances, only criticised and attacked. 
 The latter course, we do not deny, is the right of every journa 
 that receives a book for review; but the principle which will 
 allow the acceptance of a work sent for a specific purpose with- 
 out the least attempt or intention to carry out that purpose, 
 belongs, it appears to our rude mind, to a code of Ethics border- 
 ing on what in thieves' slang is known as " finger-smithing". 
 
 Not until it was too late for us to withdraw, did we realise 
 how little a fearless handling of history is relished across the 
 Channel. And yet the work in its French dress was received 
 with acclamation by every journalist throughout the Continent, 
 and hundreds of flattering reviews helped to quicken the sale of 
 what constitutes one of the most unique works of historical 
 science. Some English journals, however, less fearful of Mother 
 Grundy than their fellows, gave the book kindly welcome enough. 
 Amongst these we may mention The Star (October 5th); The 
 Bochdale Observer (October 9th); The Boston Daily Globe 
 (June 12th). 
 
 "The Jamaica Post" (July 5th). 
 
 This ably edited paper devoted a long article to the book and 
 predicted " success for it throughout the British Empire and the 
 United States" comparing it to G. W. M. Reynold's '3ft/s/me.<f o/" 
 the Court of London', with the difference that the latter was 
 founded on fiction whereas Dr. Cabanas' work is founded on 
 history. " So far as our purview goes, " concluded the reviewer, 
 "there is nothing in literature with which it can be compared." 
 
KDITOR S FOREWOHD IX 
 
 Compare this with the following splenetic utterance of 
 "The Academy" (Oct. 16th). 
 
 " The outward form, no less than tlic contents, of this book inevitaLly 
 make us think of Browning's 'scrofulous French novel' with its 'grey 
 paper and blunt type'. Dr. Cabanes' notion of secret history comprises 
 unpleasant medical details concerning Louis Quinze and Louis Seize, Marie- 
 Antoinette, Marat, Talleyrand, and others. There may have been some 
 reason for writing the book ; there was none for translating it, for any 
 historian likely to use it to profit would certainly be able to read it in 
 the original." 
 
 The * malice prepense " in this foul and mean attack is so 
 obvious that it defeats its own end. Of course, " any historian 
 would certainly be able to read it in the original " ; always 
 presuming three things (1) if he could read French ; (II) if he 
 had the leisure to come to Paris ; and (III) if he knew where to 
 unearth the documents. One might just as well argue that it is 
 unnecessary to publish the news that appears in the daily news- 
 papers, as people could find it out for themselves. So they could 
 Mr. dog-in-the-mam/er "'Academy'", if they had the time, and 
 knew where to get it. 
 
 This semi-learned journal seems to be unaware of the fact that 
 after all Dr. Cabanes is only following in the track of distinguished 
 Frenchmen who have virtually created new laws for the inter- 
 pretation of Modern History. The facile use of such terms as 
 "Scrofulous", and the petty snapping at the outward form of 
 the book, instead of fixing on the contents, show a deplorable 
 obliquity of moral vision. It means " No case. Abuse plaintiff's 
 attorney." Taine ; Ste Beuve ; Littre ; Michelet ; all applied the 
 same principles to History as Dr. Cabanes, and " the Academy " 
 should have known it. 
 
 Before leaving this little interesting subject, I have one other 
 " bone to pick " with these over-clever people. I believe it is the 
 rule, wherever English fair play is understood, to give a man due 
 notice when any sparring is begun against him. The " Academy " 
 did no such thing. Their senseless little " par " was printed, the 
 paper distributed, and the " Academy's " man no doubt took a 
 
X CURIOUS BYPATHS OK HISTORY 
 
 short cut to Holywell Street to sell the review-copy of the book 
 he had so ridiculously traduced. Oaly through a press-cutting 
 channel did we learn of his exploit. Godfrey Higgins, a far 
 greater scholar than all the sciolists of the " Academy " put 
 together, wrote in the Preface to the " Celtic Druids " : — "I take the 
 liberty of saying, that I cannot conceive it possible for any person 
 possessing honourable intentions, to write against me in any way 
 without giving me information of it, or sending me a copy of 
 his publication. To attack, and not to do this, is the act of the 
 midnight assassin." We may add that we do not for a moment 
 contest the right of these gentlemen to attack. Let them come 
 on. But we do protest against being hit "below the belt", or 
 knifed in the back. 
 
 The notice contributed by 
 
 " The Pall Mall Gazette " (June 5th). 
 
 was far more just, and correctly interpreted the aim of the book : 
 
 "The medicine man has of recent years been infected by the cacoethes scrihendi. 
 Since Th: Conan Doyle escaped, a good many of his colleagues seem to 
 have broken away invaccinated. Hence they make incursions into fiction, 
 and generally with some success, for the doctor of to-day is, as a rule, a 
 man of a liberal education. Wo now have the doctor as a historian in 
 M. Cabanes's 'Secret Cabinet of History' (Paris: Carrington), and very 
 interesting he is. The side-lights the man of medicine throws on certain 
 obscure points of French histoiy are of real, if somewhat scurrilous, value. 
 After all, the personal factor — more especially in the mediaeval history— 
 cannot be altogether eliminated. Professor Ihne was fond of saying that if 
 Charles V, at one critical period had not had such a bad attack of gout 
 the history of the Reformation in Germany would probably have been very 
 different. The horrors, too, of tlie deathbed scene in the (EA\ de Bcenf as 
 painted by a doctor, surpass oven Carlyle's lurid picture. Indeed all the 
 essays in this little volume are of interest, full of quaint learning and deep 
 research. The fate of the bra:;i of Talleyrand, 'that brain', as Victor Hugo 
 cried, 'which had inspired so many men, built up so many schemes, led 
 two revolutions, deceived twenty monarchs, and had contained the world', 
 and at the last was thrown into the drain of tlie Rue Richepanse, and the 
 quest of the lost eye of Gambetta, are among the striking curiosities of 
 historv. .\t the same time it must be added that the volume is not written 
 
EDITOR S FOREWORD XI 
 
 pueris virginihusqiie. Although tho aathor is anxious not to outrage what 
 tho translator sweetly calls tho 'pudicities', his resolve is at times swept 
 away by the interest of his studies. Moreover, the original was written in 
 French. Lest it fall into the hands of a maiden uncle the ' Secret Cabinet 
 of History' should bo kept iinder lock and key along with Balzac's 'Contos 
 Drolatiques' ; to which, by the way, it forms a sort of scicntitic commentary." 
 
 A pseudo-aristocratic journal. 
 
 Compare this with the following morceau from a weekly journal 
 of gutter scandal ; professedly devoted to the interests of truth, 
 but, in reality, a heterogeneous collection of all the newest porno- 
 graphic society small talk, and you get a clear idea of the inner 
 workings of pettifogging journalism. The man who runs this 
 paper at an immense profit to himself, has been proved by financial 
 papers to be a rank fraud, and to have given his "tips" to the 
 public with an eye to his own personal fattening. He says, 
 
 "From a cursory examination of the work I should say that it affords a 
 fresh proof that this particular trade is a fraudulent one." 
 
 If by " trade " he means the publishing business, he is certainly 
 right, for nothing is more fraudulent for the unwary publisher. If 
 he means, as far as the public is concerned, then he simply " bites 
 off his nose to be revenged on his face " for being himself a publisher, 
 he thereby proves himself a "fraud", as, in our opinion, he un- 
 doubtedly is, and all the worse for being an old one. We do 
 not record the name of this individual, as for fear of being trapped, 
 he wisely omitted to name our book, though that was the only 
 one sent to him. We take philosophic consolation in the thought 
 that while our book will be consulted by curious and earnest students, 
 his prurient journal will be forgotten, long after we are all mouldering 
 dust. The time has gone by when the saying of Rinconete y 
 Cortadillo, Lo que dice la leufjita paga la gorja, had any validity; 
 and insults flung out by low-minded ruffians have now to be treated 
 with the same contempt as snarling curs. '"But now chaunce 
 hathe soe served, that I showlde fall into thier handes, to this 
 intente (I suppose), that I. . . . . might the better understande 
 how mich affiance I owsiht to have in human casualties," 
 
XII CURIOUS BYPATHS OF HISTORY 
 
 The Weekly Sun (June 20th) 
 
 proved very much fairer, but commits much the same mistake 
 as "The Academy" while proving much more gentlemanly and 
 academic : 
 
 "The Stcret Cabinet of Hislory'' (Paris, Charles Carrington) is in some 
 respects a very remarkable book. It is an outcome of that specialising 
 tendency of our age which demands that every important event, whether 
 domestic or historical, shall be treated from the well informed standpoint 
 of an expei't. A witty judge has been heard to remark that he would 
 unhesitatingly place expert witnesses in the foremost rank of liars; but in 
 this book, entirely devoted to French events, onr expert is careful to give 
 chapter and verse for every statement he makes. Doctor Cabanes takes us 
 into all the secret cabinets of history, and treats eveiy case as if he were 
 the medical man in charge, and were taking notes for his own benefit. 
 These notes are given to the world, and if it were a medical man writing 
 for medical men there could be no objection to them, but it is doubtful if 
 the general publication of such details in necessary either for the historical 
 student or the ordinary reader. The historian of course would have to 
 study these matters to arrive at a right understanding of events, but then 
 the same sources of information would be open to him as to Dr. Cabanes. 
 As an instance of the material the book contains, a whole chajiter is devoted 
 to the accouchement of Napoleon's Qu( en and the anxieties of the Emperor 
 
 The Saturday Review (6th Nov.) 
 
 devoted a few lines as follows to the book, which, although brief, 
 are very fair and, coming from such an influential quarter, are 
 all the more weighty. 
 
 "The Secret Cabinet of History.'' (By Doctor Cabanes. Paris: Carrington, 
 1897.) This book, published in Paris and excellently translated by Mr. Costello, 
 is one of the most interesting curiosities for the collector of strange books 
 that has appeared of late years. The interest is purely medical, and ought 
 to produce the most lively emotions among medical men. The several ess.ays 
 of which it is composed are sinply accounts, comi)iled from secret letters 
 and records, of the loathsome diseases of the French kings, and detailed 
 narrations of their wives' accouchemonts. To the lay mind the book is 
 interesting, because it is so obviously genuine and because it shows with 
 singular and cjnical clearness how a pain in the stomach may alter the 
 destinies of a kingdom. 
 
EDITORS FOREWORD XIII 
 
 The London medical papers, although copies were sent them 
 for review, took absolutely no notice of the book. It was reserved 
 for a far-away American medical journal — 
 
 "Medicine'^ (Detroit. Mich. U. S. A.) 
 
 to gauge the exact aim and object of the work. In their issue 
 of September (1897) they thus delivered themselves: — 
 
 "^ Pathology in history is always of interest, especially since by afifecting 
 the leaders or rulers of a nation it tends to affect the nation as a whole. 
 This volume contains thirteen separate essays on subjects involved in 
 historical pathology. The first one relates to a youthful indiscretion of 
 Louis XIV whereby, as Dr. Cabanes proves, Louis XIV very early contracted 
 gonorrhoja. While it was recognised by his courtly physicians, they concealed 
 the origin of the disorder from interested motives, although describing its 
 clinical features very clearly. The second discusses the fistula of the same 
 king, and mentions all the surgical procedures adopted, as well as the fees 
 paid to surgeons. The disease became fashionable among the courtiers, and 
 one lady of honor was disconsolate because her physician was unable to 
 discover that she had any trace of the royal disorder. The phjTnosis from 
 which Louis XVI suifered played a large part in determining certain features 
 of the French Revolution. For a while it rendered Louis XVI impotent 
 and this fomented intrigues by the future Louis XVIII, Charles X and the 
 Duke of Orleans, which seriously damaged the moral character of Marie 
 Antoinette. These intrigues undoubtedly aided the general Revolutionary 
 movement, since all three of the intriguants hoped to profit by this 
 movement. Another item of special interest to physicians is the proof given 
 that Marat suSered from both mental, dermic, and other somatic symptoms 
 of diabetes, which doubtless underlay his suspicious and pitiless tendencies. 
 The change recorded in Marat's attitude during the Revolution is readily 
 explained by the tone given to his thoughts through the irritability produced 
 by this disease. The work of which this is the first volume merits jrarchase 
 and perusal by any physician of literary and historical tastes. The second 
 volume will prove equally interesting, to judge from the table of subjects 
 given in the present work. " 
 
 We have to apologize to the reader for having taken up his 
 attention so long with matters less of public than personal interest. 
 No one can have greater respect and admiration for English 
 journalists than have we. No other country in the world can 
 boast so large a percentage of talented and fair-minded men as 
 
XIV CURIOUS BYPATHS OF HISTORY 
 
 those who control the London and Provincial press. That the 
 press should, notwithstandir.g, be sometimes debased by a few black 
 sheep seeking to gratify private malice is not surprising, and the 
 proofs of such malice, we shall, when the occasion arises, disclose 
 in larger detail. 
 
 Not only has the " Secret Cabinet of History " been proscribed, 
 but other works issued by us have also been placed on the index. 
 The result is invariably to enhance the value of the book and 
 cause it to fetch a price it w^ould not otherwise command. In 
 1896, for instance, we published a work entitled " The Book of 
 Exposition " ^ translated from the Arabic, and forming a natural 
 Supplement to Sir Richard F. Burton's famous version of " The 
 Thousand Nights and a Night ^. Our book was printed in an 
 edition limited to 200 copies on hand-made paper, and issued 
 to private subscribers only, at the prohibitive charge of two guineas 
 per copy. No attempt was made at concealment, as the title- 
 page bore our address (32 rue Drouot), and the work was regis- 
 tered at the Ministere de VInterieur, Paris, in conformity with 
 the law of copy-right. Yet the Postal authorities, to our astonish- 
 ment, pounced on all copies forwarded by mail, and our equally 
 innocent agents in London were threatened with legal action. 
 We did not dream such high-handed proceedings possible in a 
 country which sanctions the free circulation amongst school children 
 of an uncastrated edition of the Old Testament, and the works 
 of Shakespere. 
 
 The moral object of our book was distinct enough, and its 
 ethnographical significance clearly defined. It fights against sexual 
 irregularities. Only by knowing them can danger be avoided. 
 
 ' The fall description runs as follows: — 
 
 "The Book of Exposition" literally translated from the Arabic by an 
 English Bohemian (^ Kitab Al-Izah Fi 'Ilm Al-Nikah Bi-T-Tamam W-Al-Kamal"). 
 With Translators Foreword, numerous important Notes illustrating the Text 
 and several very interesting .Ippendices, in one large post 8vo Volume. 
 Neatly bound in black cloth with gilt top; cover decorated with Arabic 
 monogram of the title of the work. 
 
EDITOR S FOREWOllD XV 
 
 The moral and physical beauties of womankind are brought into 
 prominence, and the passions that war against her proper place 
 in Nature are fiercely combatted. This was the aim of the 
 Arab sheikh who wrote in Arabic some three hundred years 
 ago ; no other aim has been ours in offering an English version 
 for the first time to scholars. Why then pursue and proscribe 
 it ? We leave those who move in certain ranks of English Society 
 to judge whether the translation of the " Book of Exposition " , 
 has any raison cfHre in presence of the scandals that, from time 
 to time, recall the lurid conflagration of Sodom and Gomorrha. 
 
 The immoral Morality of England will offer a splendid field of 
 research to the future historian. Macaulay has a passage of great 
 power on the subject : ^ 
 
 "We know no spectacle so ridiculous as the British i^ublic in one of its 
 periodical fits of morality. In general, elopements, divorces, and family 
 quarrels, pass with little notice. We read the scandal, talk about it for a 
 day, and forget it. But once in six or seven years, our virtue becomes 
 outrageous. We cannot suffer the laws of religion and decency to be violated. 
 We must make a stand against vice. Wo must teach libertines that the 
 English people appreciate the importance of domestic ties. Accordingly, 
 some unfortunate man, in no respect more depraved than hundreds whose 
 offences have been treated with lenity, is singled out as an expiatory 
 sacrifice. If he has childi'en, thoy are to be taken from him. If he has a 
 profession, he is to be driven from it. He is cut by the higher orders, and 
 hissed by the lower. He is, in truth, a sort of 'whipping-boy', by whose 
 vicarious agonies all the other transgressors of the same class are, it is 
 supposed, sufficiently punished. We reflect very comiilacently on our own 
 severity, and compare, with great pride, the high standards of morals 
 established in England with the Parisian laxity. At length our anger is 
 satiated. Our victim is ruined, and heart-broken. And our virtue goes 
 quietly to sleep for seven years more. " 
 
 " La Pudique Albion " never fails to justify her hard- won name 
 of "Hypocrite", and America competes with her strongly for the 
 inglorious title. Our Yaii'.:c„^ cousins stamped out Slavery ; one 
 day they will unlock the gate and disemprison Liberty. All 
 
 * See MACAULAY'S lleview of Moore's Life of Bybon, in Essays and 
 Reviews", London, 1886. 
 
XVI CURIOUS BYPATHS OF IIISTOUY 
 
 books of any note have been persecuted. The " Aije of Reason " 
 was put clown by the Police, and men gathered behind hedges to 
 read by stealth copies they had bought with their united pence. 
 If the Bible itself were, by some Magic turn of Fortune's wheel, 
 to fall again under the ban, it would be eagerly read where it is 
 now used in English parlour windows, as a convenient stand for 
 the flower-pot. 
 
 There was talk of a Treasury prosecution of Burton's Arabian 
 "Nights", to which our book claims to be a sequel. When the 
 worthy Chevalier heard of the intended onslaught, he merely said 
 " Let them come on. I shall go into open Court with the Bible in 
 one hand and the works of Sterne, Shakespere, and the English 
 Dramatists in the other, by way of support and reserve." The 
 authorities wisely refrained. Probably Sir Richard, being one of 
 their own class, knew too much for them. They prefer smaller 
 fry. The works Burton cited may be bought in London for 
 Sixpence apiece. His translation was issued to Private Subscribers 
 only, and not exposed in shop-windows. So was ours. Why then 
 make any difference ? Ernest Vizitelly for Englishing and pub- 
 lishing the French works of Emile Zola was prosecuted by the 
 Solicitor-general. A white haired man of some seventy years of 
 age, he had passed his whole life in the service of Literature, 
 and his very judges admitted the unimpeachableness of his motives. 
 The finding, natheless, of that profound Literary Censorship— a 
 British Jury— (the "Academy" of England)— was "Guilty", and, 
 pecuniarily ruined, away went the old Scholar to " do " eighteen 
 months " hard " ! A few years later, the Great French novelist 
 himself crossed over to England, and was feasted at Guildhall 
 by the Lord Mayor and the worthy Aldermen of the City of 
 London. We quote the following from the 
 
 "Westminster Gazette" (September 21st 1893) 
 
 "No man ever received a more courteons and re.speetful greeting than 
 he, in Lincoln's Inn to-day — yet it is only a few years ago since his 
 English publisher, an old man with a name respected in English journalism, 
 
EDITOR S FOHEWORD XVII 
 
 was halod to prisuii lor publishing what, at most, was hut a bowdleriscd 
 edition of one of the Sage of Medan's most harrowing dissections of the 
 moral cancer. How changed to-day I" 
 
 The worthy " Westminster' is quite right ; things have changed, 
 and changed considerably to boot. For the respectable firm of 
 Chatto and Windus are at the present moment (Nov. 6th) issuing 
 " The Dram Shop (I'Assommoir) of Zola — one of the most powerful 
 stories he wrote. While, bolder still, " a private issue (?) of all the 
 works " of Master Emile, is announced, " as now for the first time 
 completely translated into English by Arthur Symons, and others/ 
 We only trust that the " Lutetian Society " will not get hunted 
 down by the infamous National (Im?)purity Associations, sworn 
 enemies to all unbowdlerised versions. Probably in no other city 
 in Europe could such an inconsistent state of things take place. 
 We have personally no desire to share Vizitelly's martyrdom. 
 Rather do we prefer to hope that London's Lord Mayor will 
 recognise the services our pen has rendered to Literature, and invite 
 us across to the slaying of a " fatted calf. An old book lays down 
 the dictum that "all things are possible to him that believeth". 
 Our private store of modesty really prevents our doing otherwise. 
 
 To people with plenty of leisure and a paucity of cerebral 
 tissue desiring something to do, we respectfully submit the fol- 
 lowing recommendation of Sir R. F. Burton: — 
 
 " These Vigilants and Purifiers, with that hypocritical severity 
 which ever makes the worst sinner in private the most rigorous 
 judge in public, lately had the imprudent impudence to summons 
 a publisher who had reprinted the Decameron with the " objection- 
 able passages' in French. Mr. Alderman Faudell Phillips had 
 the good sense contemptuously to dismiss the summons. English- 
 men are no longer what they were if they continue to tolerate 
 this ignoble espionnage of vicious and prurient virtuous "Asso- 
 ciations'. If they mean real work why do they commence by 
 condemning scholar-like works, instead of cleansing the many 
 foul cesspools of active vice which are a public disgrace to London.' 
 
 A few words more, and we will bring our rambling remarks 
 
XVIII CURIOUS BYPATHS OF HISTORY 
 
 to a close. The present work is a sequel to the " Secret Cabinet 
 of History", already mentioned; and the fore-runner of a third 
 volume which will appear later and contain further pathological 
 studies of the same kind. 
 
 We foolishly imagined that the earlier book would meet with 
 an open-arm welcome and be quickly clasped to the scholar's 
 breast. Alas, how short-lived was our fancy, how sad the dis- 
 illusion. Book-sellers would not stock it ; in fact seemed to take 
 a dislike to the poor bantling. 
 
 " I do not like thee Dr. Fell 
 The reason why I cannot tell ". 
 
 We were left to push the sale for ourselves and sent out the 
 following letter: — 
 
 "Paris, August, 1897. 
 • Dear Sir 
 
 ^The Secret Cabinet of Histoey'. 
 
 " I may take it for granted that you have seen a mention made 
 in the English papers concerning this work, some favourable, 
 some otherwise. The 'Pall Mall Gazette' whose notice is ap- 
 pended, led me to believe that the work would be fit to be 
 placed in the hands of a select public. My offer of an agency 
 to one or two large Engli.sh publishers, however, met with a 
 courteous refusal and I cite one of these as follows: — 
 
 " Dear Sir, We received your ivork and have now read 
 " a cox)y of the ' Secret Cabinet of History \ Although the 
 " work is of much interest, yet ue fear that it is not one tve 
 " could take up. People in England are very prudish, and 
 "if we were known to be publishers of this they might be 
 " disinclined to buy the novels and classical reprints which 
 " are the bulk of our trade. Thanking you nevertheless for 
 "the opportunity afforded us, We are, etc.'" 
 " I am therefore constrained to go to my public direct, and, as 
 1 save an Agent's commission, I shall be glad to deliver to you 
 
EDITOR S FOKEWOKD XIX 
 
 a copy at the rate of Half-a-guinea (English postal order) carriage 
 
 prepaid. The work forms a handsome volume, and apart from 
 
 its contents, which cannot fail to interest you, it is a book which 
 
 every Amateur and Student would like to handle. 
 
 " I am, 
 
 dear Sir, 
 
 Yours obediently " 
 
 This had good effect and the work has since conmianded a 
 steady sale, more especially amongst medical, and other profes- 
 sional men. Thinkers and scholars are, after all, the only people 
 we work for, or care to serve. The searcher after scenes of 
 lubricity to excite sensual passions will find nothing here to 
 excite his perverted brain. Our old friend, Isidore Liseux, once 
 said of a certain book, issued under his auspices: — 
 
 ^Certes, nous ne voudrions -pas conseiller cette lecture a 
 la virginite ignorante, mais peut-etre la recommanderions 
 nous moins a la caducite en quete d' excitations erotiques. 
 Les vieillards qui demandent it une liiterature speciale le 
 STIMULUS VENERIS, nc trouveraient pas ici ce quHls cherchent.^ 
 
 We appropriate these words because admirably expressing the 
 character of the present studies. 
 
 We owe undeserved thanks to Dr. Cabanes for his permission 
 to add our article on Flagellation in France at the end of his 
 studies ; a permission of which we have not availed ourselves. It 
 is no easy thing to deal with live authors. In fact, between the 
 double fire of the Author and the Critics, the publisher has a 
 pretty nice time of it. When, a& a mere act of courtesy, and 
 not because we cared a " tinker's benediction " about his precious 
 permission, we asked our friend for consent to insert the article 
 named, he raised a host of difficulties about his " responsibility ' 
 and made such a huge "mountain out of our molehill", that 
 on receiving the doctor's written acquiescence the following 
 day, we rapidly made up our mind, now that the point was 
 gained, to send this meticulous little man to the "devil", and 
 
XX CUUIOUS RYl'ATHS OF HISTOllY 
 
 do without the famous " permission " . Pray take no alarm, kind 
 reader ! You are not to be swindled out of your " flagellation " 
 article. It has been printed uniform with the present volume, 
 paged on its own account, provided with a special cover and title 
 page, and issued gratuitously to every purchaser of " The Curious 
 Bypaths of History". A word of warning to the critics; in 
 handling these studies, put on a pair of white gloves, after the 
 fashion of the brave douaniers of Spain when turning over ladies' 
 trunks, as, should our fiery little doctor call you out, a strong 
 wrist will be needed to beat down his guard. In any case, count 
 upon our services. 
 
 We hardly owe any apology to the reader for the appearance 
 of this article. Indeed, many people wrote, begging us to put 
 forth something more definite on this subject than has yet seen 
 the light. We have here taken only a step in that direction. 
 Later we may find time to dovetail together in systematic order 
 the curious revelations and other documents that we have had 
 sent to us, and which deal particularly with fustigation in all its 
 Protean shapes and forms. The study is needed and already 
 numbers many amateurs. In fact the rage for whipping is in 
 England very great, since even the humble author of these lines 
 has been menaced — if we are to believe a certain public journal- - 
 with a " horse-whipping " by an irrationally irascible father smarting 
 under an imaginary wrong, ^ 
 
 We are glad to assure our alarmed readers that, as this feverish 
 gentleman has not yet appeared on the horizon, there may be still 
 some chance of our bringing out a new work before his advent. 
 
 ' He pretended that a circulai- had been sent to his address in a closed 
 envelope and opened, in his absence, by his daughter " aged fifteen " ! But 
 what are we to think, even if the story be true, of a young female of this tender 
 age who opens her father's letters while he is out. Suppose the letter had 
 been from his "lady-friend"? Would he have horse-whipped her"} 
 
 CHARLES CARRINGTON. 
 Paris, November, 1897. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
ANY 
 
 CRITICISMS OF REAL 
 
 VALUE, THAT SCHOLARS MAY 
 
 OFFER ON THE SUBJECTS DEALT WITH IN THE 
 
 PRESENT VOLUME, WILL APPEAR 
 
 IN THE THIRD 
 
 SERIES. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 FADE 
 
 editor's foreword V 
 
 TABLE OP CONTENTS , XXI 
 
 THE PHYSICIAN OF LOUIS XI 1 
 
 THE PEREGRINATIONS OF THE BODY OF RICHELIEU 15 
 
 THE TEETH OF LOUIS XIV 27 
 
 THE CLANDESTINE ACCOUCHEMENTS OF MDLLE DE LA VALLIERE . 41 
 
 THE FIRST ACCOUCHEUR TO THE COURT OF FRANCE. — THE 
 
 ACCOUCHEMENTS AND THE DEATH OF MME DE MONTESPAN . . 57 
 
 ILLUSTRIOUS REMAINS AND ANATOMICAL RELICS. — THE SKELETON 
 
 OF MME DE MAINTENON AND THE SKULL OF MME DE SEVIGNE 75 
 
 THE PHYSICIAN OF MME DE POMPADOUR 95 
 
 THE INFIRMITIES OF SOPHIE ARNOULD Ill 
 
 WAS DR. GUILLOTIN THE INVENTOR OR THE GOD-FATHER, OF THE 
 
 GUILLOTINE? 121 
 
 I. THE REAL CHARLOTTE CORDAY. — HER PERSONAL 
 
 APPEARANCE 131 
 
 II. THE PROLOGUE TO THE DRAMA. — CHARLOTTE CORDAY's 
 
 ADMIRERS 149 
 
 III. THE EPILOGUE TO THE DRAMA. — THE headsman's BUFFET 165 
 
XXIV TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 IV. THE NECROPSY OF CHARLOTTE CORD AY 177 
 
 THE PRIVATE LIFE OF ROBESPIERRE WHILE RESIDING WITH 
 
 THE DUPLAY FAMILY 199 
 
 THE SUPERSTITIONS OF NAPOLEON I 221 
 
 THE CASE OF MME. RECAMIER 273 
 
 A ROMANCE WITH THREE ACTORS: ALFRED DE MUSSET, GEORGE 
 
 SAND, AND DOCTOR PAGELLO 301 
 
 The Article 
 
 ox 
 
 * FLAGELLATION IN FRANCE ' 
 
 IS GIVEN AWAY WITH THIS BOOK AND, BEING OF UNIFORM TYPE AND 
 SIZE, BOTH VOLUMES MAY BE BOUND IP TOOETHER. 
 
THE PHYSICIAN 
 
 LOUIS XI. 
 
^at)e §tubicb t)^^§tc, t^roug^ H)^t(!| Secret art, 
 
 2^t) turning o'er authorities 3 ^at>e, 
 
 2;oaet^er ttiit^ mt| ^iractice, uiabe familiar, 
 
 %fi me anb to mt) aib tl^e bleSt infuSionS 
 
 2^at bttiell iu tieoetioeS, in metalS, StoneS; 
 
 5(nb 3 cau S^ieaf of t^e bi§turbauce§ 
 
 2;|at nature woxU, anb of ^er cureS ; iofjic^ bot^ gi^^ wc 
 
 21 more content in course of true belig^t 
 
 l^an to Be ttjirStt) after tottering honour, 
 
 Dr tie m^ treasure np in silfen bagS 
 
 2;o ^ileaSe t^e fool anb beat^ 
 
 r'ERiCLES, Act, III, Sc, 1. 
 
THE PHYSICIAN OF LOUIS XI. 
 
 F led by idleness or curiosity, you had a few 
 years ago turned your steps to the Rue Saint- 
 Andre-des-Arts, a few paces from the Cour du Commerce, 
 so rich in historical associations connected with the Revo- 
 lution, you would have noticed an edifice of modest archi- 
 tecture, purposely simple in style, the construction of 
 which was being actively pursued. On enquiry, you would 
 have been informed that the building then being con- 
 structed on this spot, was destined to be a college for 
 girls, to be named, after the " Swan of Cambrai : " the 
 Lycee Fenelon. If you pushed your researches further you 
 would evoke an entire epoch of long-forgotten history. 
 
 Let us for a moment carry our thoughts four centuries 
 back, and endeavour, with the patience of an archaeologist, 
 to reconstitute this corner of ancient Paris, now menaced 
 by the pickaxe of the demolisher. In this quarter, called 
 in the XVth century the Faubourg-Saint-Germain; let us 
 
4 atunott^ ^i)paii}^ of ^moti). 
 
 draw an irregular square, bounded by the Rue des Fosses- 
 Saint-Germain, the Rue de I'Eeole de Medecine, the Rue 
 du Paon, the Rue de I'Eperon and the Rue Saint-Andre- 
 des Arts. A long, narrow street, called the " Cour de 
 Rouen, " cut this irregular square diagonally into two 
 nearly equal parts. In that part of the square nearest to 
 the Rue du Paon, was situated the " Palace of the Arch- 
 bishop of Rouen," in the other part touching the Rue Saint- 
 Andre-des-Arts, as far as the eye could reach, stretched 
 out gardens, marshy fields and tumble-down hovels. This 
 entire quarter wae called the " Sejour de Navarre. " 
 
 'After having been for many years an appanage of the 
 crown, the Sejour de Navarre passed into the hands of 
 Louis XII, then only Duke of Orleans. On the eve of 
 setting out on his expedition to Brittany, the young 
 Duke, who wanted to turn all he could into money, sold 
 the mansion of his sires. The purchasers are now known 
 to have been: Guillaume Ruze, a counsellor to the Par- 
 liament; and Nicolas Violle, lord of the manor of Noizeau 
 a corrector of the Chamber of Accounts. Jean Hurot, an 
 advocate of the Parliament, bought the third lot, which he 
 very soon hastened to dispose of, on the 27th January 
 1489 to Jacques Coitier, late first physician to Louis XI 
 and his intimate adviser. 
 
 Coitier, whose name is variously spelled, by different 
 historians Coictier, Coittier, Coctier, and lastly Coitier, retired 
 there, quite at the end of the town, near to the ramparts, 
 after having made his fortune. It was not, as the legend 
 for a long time had it, in order to flee from the fury of 
 
%i)c ^f)mcian of Sotii^ xi. 5 
 
 the monarch, that he had thought of retiring. The anger 
 of Louis XI was no longer to be feared, he having already 
 been six years in his grave, when Coitier purchased the 
 grounds, situated opposite the Buci postern, nearly touching 
 the rampart of Philippe-Auguste. 
 
 Scarcely had the new owner taken possession, than the 
 workmen were busily employed. In a few months, arose 
 the two wings of a mansion, with crenellated front, behind 
 which was a closed gallery, resting on pillars such as may 
 be often seen in lordly mansions of the Middle Ages. At 
 the angle formed by the meeting of the two wings was 
 a court, with a winding-staircase ; — a medley of incongruous 
 buildings, forming a small mansion. 
 
 A second court contained a well, which deserves to draw 
 our attention for a moment. This well, which could still 
 be seen a few years ago, was more exactly a cistern with 
 a low coping, on the middle of which there stood a 
 dolphin's head. 
 
 Let us not forget to mention two gardens, a pleasure- 
 garden and a fruit-garden, and lastly a Grothic chapel. 
 Over the principal entrance Coitier caused an elephant 
 with a tower on its back to be sculptured. 
 
 Upon a turret over one of the doors, a shield had been 
 sculptured, in the held of which were represented a tree bear- 
 ing fruit, an orange-tree and an apricot-tree, * and images 
 
 * We adopt the version of the abricotier (Apricot-tree) in order 
 not to give denial to the legend which says that Coitier wished to play 
 upon words, by a sort of sign or rebus. 
 
 In this case A Vnhri Cotier would mean that the doctor deemed 
 himself fortunate to have retired, like the sage, to a safe shelter 
 from all importunate annoyances. But it is equally probable that it 
 is an orange tree, the arms of the arch-physician bearing " An orange 
 tree or." 
 
6 0:uti0tt^ m}pam of ^t)^t0ti)* 
 
 of the Virgin, Saint James and Saint Nicholas, with the 
 following inscription in letters running into each other, 
 as are usually observed in the writing of that time : 
 
 JACOBVS COICTIER 
 
 MILES ET CONSVLARIVS 
 
 AC VICE PRAESES CAMERAE COMPTORVM 
 
 PARISIENSIS 
 
 ARE AM EMIT ET IN EA OEDIFICAVIT 
 
 ANNO M.C.C.C.C.X.C. * 
 
 Coitier's mansion, known by the name of the " House 
 of the Elephant," was not demolished until 1739. It stood 
 on the site of N"^. 47, 49, 51 and 53 of the Rue Saint- 
 Andre-des-Arts f. In 1740, the place where the mansion 
 of the King's doctor had stood was occupied by buildings 
 devoid of character, and this act of vandalism was per- 
 petrated notwithstanding the protests of the journalists of 
 the period. 
 
 Coitier lived for nearly fifteen years in his House of 
 the Elephant, overwhelmed with honours and dignities, 
 enjoying peaceably the riches he had amassed. He was 
 not satisfied with having a mansion in town, he must also 
 have a country-house. At the distance of a few gun-shots 
 
 * The translation of this inscription is as follows: 
 
 " Jacques Coitier, knight, counsellor to the King, vice-president of 
 
 the Chamber of Accounts, has bought this plot of land and has thereon 
 
 built this edifice in the year 1490." 
 
 t By a curious coincidence, it was in the house bearing the number 
 
 53 Rue Saint-Andr^-des-Arts that the eminent toxicologist Orfila died, 
 
 on the 4th March 1853. 
 
%f)c ^f^mcian of ^oni^ XI. 7 
 
 from the forest of Bondy, near to the celebrated abbey 
 of Livry, there existed an ancient castle ward, the lordship 
 of Aulnay; he bought it for 3,000 gold crowns. This 
 lordship included : a castle with drawbridge, a dwelling- 
 house situated in the court-yard of the castle, two ponds, 
 two water-mills, a warren, etc., to say nothing of the 
 broad acres, the woods and meadows, which made of this 
 property one of the finest domains in the neighbourhood 
 of Paris. 
 
 Coitier could, if he had a fancy to do so, have played 
 the lord of the manor on his lands. In fact the castle- 
 ward was endowed with incontestable rights and preroga- 
 tives : right of high justiciary, dues on sale of wood, rights 
 of high, mean and common jurisdiction. History fails to 
 tell us whether he ever exercised these rights. Had 
 Louis XI been still alive, there is but little doubt that 
 the peasants would have had to endure the lot of the 
 serfs of days gone by, and the feudal practices would 
 have been seen to flourish on this spot of land. But 
 Coitier was no longer in favour at Court, and neither 
 Louis XH, nor Charles VIII, felt inclined to feed his 
 ambition. At the death of Louis XI, the Burgundian 
 doctor had lost his appointment as chief physician to 
 the Court, also that of President of the Chamber of Accounts, 
 and had managed only, thanks to high influences, to retain 
 the secondary post of Vice-President of the same Chamber. 
 
 At all events the King thought fit, to take into considera- 
 tion the " great and agreeable services that the said coun- 
 sellor, master Jacques de Coitier hath rendered unto our lord 
 and father, during his illness", as it said in the charter 
 of Charles VIII, afterwards confirmed by Louis XII : " by 
 reason of the great esteem and perfect confidence " that 
 
8 auviott^ m)paii}& of ^movt). 
 
 he had in his " well-beloved and trusty " Jacques de Coitier. 
 Assuredly this was no disgrace, but seems something 
 very much akin, to those who are acquainted with the 
 extraordinary career of this unscrupulous physician during 
 the preceding reign, whom a pusillanimous King had over- 
 whelmed with liberalities, in order to drive away the 
 death he so greatly dreaded. 
 
 Coitier must indeed have exercised a great ascendency 
 over this suspicious monarch, dreaded by all who approached 
 him, and who yet gave way so easily to all his physi- 
 cian's demands, however haughty and imperious they 
 might be ! 
 
 How was it that a mere village doctor, or nearly so, 
 could have risen to become the medical adviser of the 
 most distrustful of all monarchs? How did he succeed 
 in gaining his confidence? All these enigmas remain yet 
 to be solved. 
 
 Not only is the date of the birth of Coitier unknown, 
 but nothing whatever is known either concerning his boy- 
 hood or his youth. All that is known is that he was 
 born at Poligny, in the Franche-Comte, and that he was 
 of an honourable family in pretty comfortable circum- 
 stanceB. 
 
 No traces of his career as a medical student are to be 
 found in the registers of the Faculties of Paris or of 
 Montpellier. Perhaps, but this is merely a conjecture, 
 he took his degrees at the University of Dole, where he 
 was remarked by Philip, Duke of Savoy, who made him 
 his physician. 
 
%f)c qs^tj^lcian of Sotti^ XI. 9 
 
 If we are to credit Louis Guyon, it was the Duke of 
 Savoy who presented him to Louis XI, and caused him 
 to be accepted by the King about 1470. He soon managed 
 to persuade that monarch that until then he had been 
 badly treated, that his ordinary physicians understood 
 nothing about his malady ; that he had carefully studied 
 his case, and that he alone could succeed in combating 
 it. In order to convince him, he did not fear to speak 
 to him in a brutal tone, to which the King was hitherto 
 little accustomed. He was so rough with him, says Co- 
 raynes, " that no one would use towards a valet such 
 contumelious words." And when the King seemed to kick 
 against it, he would boldly answer him : " I know well 
 that you could send me where you have sent so many 
 others, but by . . . (here a tremendous oath) you would not 
 be alive eight days afterwards." And from fear of death, 
 the King granted him all he asked for, -and heaven knows 
 what an itching palm he had ! 
 
 First of all Coitier demanded the post of " Clerk in 
 ordinary " to the Chamber of Accounts, which brought 
 him about 9 francs a day, without counting allowances 
 for robes, cloaks, gloves, mufflers, hatS;, caps, harness, 
 housings, horses, door-fees, pen-knives, stationery, etc." 
 At the end of three years, at the death of the titular 
 possessor of that place, he was appointed Vice-President 
 of the above Chamber. 
 
 At the end of another three years, and " in consideration of 
 his good, agreeable and continual services, ' the King granted 
 to his physician the revenues of the castle of Civray. 
 
10 iS^nvton^ f&t}paii)^ of ^movf^. 
 
 A little later, by letters patent dated from Lyons, 
 Coitier was granted the castle and lordship of Rouvres, 
 with all its dependencies. 
 
 After that came the castle ward of Poissy bestowed 
 upon him besides a dwelling-house situated within the 
 precincts of the castle of Plessis-du-Parc, the favourite 
 residence of Louis XL 
 
 His ambition had henceforth no limit. What he cannot 
 obtain by ruse, he will get by violence acting as informer 
 and laying accusations, — anything that answered his pur- 
 pose. 
 
 A certain personage, Jean de Ladriesche, had the title 
 of bailiff or door-keeper of the King's palace and that 
 of President of the Court of Accounts: Coitier had no 
 rest until he obtained his dismissal. This post of bailiff, 
 besides a yearly salary of 1200 livres (36,000 francs), 
 gave many other important advantages. The bailiff exer- 
 cised high and ordinary justice, he alone had the right to 
 assign their places to the mercers or to withdraw them ; 
 without taking into account a host of other privileges not 
 less lucrative. Of course Coitier was privileged to pocket 
 the profits and emoluments of his functions without ever 
 fulfilling the duties. The condition of his august patient 
 required his constant attendance, and the sovereign himself 
 exempted him from the discharge of his oflBcial duties. 
 
 As if he dreaded to see the King die before he had 
 realized the dreams of his ambition, he hastened to get 
 him to sign deeds which gave him possession of the 
 domains of Poligny and of Grimont, in his native country ; 
 the lordships of Brazay and of Saint-Jean-de-Losne ; of 
 a house at Dijon, paid for by Louis XI out of his privy 
 purse, besides other presents of lesser value. 
 
%i)c 0r)l)^idatt of Soui)g XL ii 
 
 It is but just to add that if he did not forget his own 
 interests, he also thought of those of his family. One of 
 his nephews, Pierre de Vercey, canon of Bayeux, was, 
 thanks to him, appointed Bishop of Amiens, without the 
 least effort on his own behalf. 
 
 At this time the King had fallen into such a state of 
 intellectual depression and physical weakness, that he 
 could no longer refuse anything to the insatiable ambition 
 of his doctor. 
 
 In 1481, a fit of apoplexy, which seized him as he 
 rose from table, almost deprived the King of his power 
 of speech. From that moment, he passed alternately from 
 slight amelioration to successive relapses ; he thought him- 
 self surrounded by imaginary dangers, and caused his 
 castle of Plessis to be walled in with a perfect cuirass 
 of iron. 
 
 One day he took it into his head that his body exhaled 
 a pestilential odour, and had himself deluged from head 
 to foot with perfumes. 
 
 Another time, he thought that music would relieve him, 
 and immediately musicians were called into requisition 
 to enliven him. 
 
 Debarred from hunting, his favourite pastime, he took 
 pleasure in having rats and mice hunted by dogs in his 
 apartments. 
 
 He consulted quacks and soothsayers, tried all sorts of 
 remedies, natural and supernatural, had the holy ampulla 
 brought to him from Reims, and went so far as to get 
 relics sent to him by the Sultan. 
 
12 e:ttvt0u^ mjpati}^ of ^m0x% 
 
 " Two ships were fitted out to fetch something for 
 the health of the King". Something! Some exotic 
 drug apparently, from which marvellous results were 
 anticipated 
 
 A surgeon of the name of Sixtus was sent for from Ger- 
 many. A noted physician of Reims, Gerard Cochet, was 
 also called in, as well as a matron or sinirgienne, Guille- 
 merhte Duluys. But all was of no avail, and did not 
 prevent the King, as Comynes says, from " passing where 
 others have passed." 
 
 * 
 
 * * 
 
 Despite all the surgeons and apothecaries, Louis XI 
 breathed his last on the 30th of August 1483. 
 
 His physician survived him for twenty-three years, and 
 did not die until the 29th October 1506. 
 
 * 
 
 * * 
 
 As Coitier, during his life, had sinned not a little, on 
 approaching the portals of eternity, his sole thought was 
 to redeem his former errors. Two churches and sixteen 
 congregations had a share in his posthumous liberality: 
 all his godchildren, and they were numerous, poor orphans 
 and servants, received their share in his inheritance, and 
 to crown his good works, the repentant sinner requested 
 to be buried in the chapel of Saint-Nicholas in the church 
 of Saint-Andre-des-Arts, which thenceforward was known 
 as the Chapel of the Coitiers. 
 
 Finally, by his will, Coitier bequeathed his library to 
 the Chapter of Poligny, and founded in the church of the 
 
Xf)e *P0l)^icirtn of 2on\^ XI. 18 
 
 same place, a mass to be daily said in perpetuity for the 
 repose of his soul. 
 
 Could he more worthily have ended his career of scheming 
 and unrest. * 
 
 * For the biography, properly speaking, of Coitier we have closely 
 followed the excellent, though rather compendious study, of Dr. Chereau, 
 which appeared in the Union medicale of 1861. We have however 
 considerably condensed it, retaining only the essential points. 
 
THE 
 PEREGKINATIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 CARDINAL DE RICHELIEU'S 
 BODY. 
 
S gate a gutter at ^t^ 3»orf to=bai), 
 aSJtt^ rubc§t §anb ^c §^a^cb ^t§ tjtclbing ^ta^, 
 "D^ ficntl^, 23rut^cr, bo not treat mc t^ug, 
 S too, ttiaS once a 3Ulan/' S ^earb it §ai). 
 
 9QSe all are ^n^^etg of t^e @!t|, we run 
 3(§ n)m§ t^e ^-l^latier till t^c ©ame i§ bone, 
 5(nb ttitjen t^e ^latjcr tt)earic§ of t^e S^iort, 
 §e t^roiog u§ into ^arfne^g Dne bt) One. 
 
 2iMjateoer i§, b^ i5atc wa§ erst besipeb, 
 2l)t ailafer nom ^i§ Sabor tjas resioneb, 
 5lnb all onr Strioing can auii ns ^iaug^t, 
 tV'or all our 3lct§ mere long ago befineb, 
 
 Omar Khayyam. 
 
THE PEREGRINATIONS OF THE MORTAL 
 REMAINS OF RICHELIEU. 
 
 T is always profitable to ransack a collection of 
 old Reviews; from them it is more than often 
 possible to exhume interesting documents which gain from 
 being once more brought into full light. 
 
 It was thus that in shaking the dust form some old 
 papers we chanced upon a number of a provincial archaeo- 
 logical journal, called the Revue du Bas Poitou. 
 
 At the first glance, this title did not seem attractive, 
 but urged by the demon of curiosity, we decided to cut 
 the leaves, and, as the following will show, without having 
 cause to regret so doing. We there discovered a gem 
 worthy to be set in our collection of curious documents: 
 nothing less than a notice on the necropsy of Richelieu, 
 according to the minute, perhaps official, account of the 
 opening of the body of the great cardinal. 
 
 Not to submit the curiosity of our readers to a longer 
 ordeal, we will at once place before them in extenso the 
 most diverting passage — all the worse if the words loudly 
 protest at being so coupled together— of this necropsy. 
 
 17 
 
18 ^m'ton^ 25l)»)atp of ^mott). 
 
 " Illustrious men " — let us bear in mind that this document 
 is signed by two advocates of the Parliament— " illustrious 
 men almost always have some singularities in the composition 
 of their temperament. We have a recent example in the person 
 of the great Cardinal de Richelieu, first minister of State. 
 
 " We learned from his surgeon in ordinary, that after 
 the Cardinal's death, he had orders to embalm the body, 
 which he did in the presence of several persons of distinc- 
 tion and of the highest quality. He found in the interior 
 parts of the body a very fine conformation, corresponding 
 to that of the members and of the external figure. When 
 he opened the head to extract the brain, he noticed the 
 most extraordinary singularities. 
 
 " He first remarked that the two plates of the skull 
 were thin and porous, and that at the thickest parts there 
 was but little of that spongy bony substance called diploe 
 {sic], so that a blow with the fist might easily have fractured 
 this part of this skull, extremely hard and thick in other 
 persons, so as to be able to resist exterior impressions 
 when not too violent." 
 
 All this is but quite superficial observation, but what 
 more could be expected in the XVHth century? 
 
 • But what follows quits the scientific domain to approach 
 the limits of the grotesque: 
 
 . . . "Having opened the brain"— it is always the person 
 who performed the autopsy who is speaking— "I found it 
 all greyish, and of a firmer consistence than usual. It 
 had a soft and agreeable odour, instead of being as usual 
 whitish in colour, soft, aqueous, and of a rather fetid odour." 
 
 This brain that emits an agreeable perfume, is it not 
 a genial discovery, an act of posthumous adulation, worthy 
 to be admired? 
 
%l)c mmxain^ of md)cUm. 19 
 
 But a far more astounding fact, is " that in this brain, 
 there was double the usual number of ventricles, each 
 one having another above it, forming two stages, both in 
 front and behind, and particularly in the middle, in which 
 are formed the purest spirits of the discursive power, serving 
 the operations of the intellect, the front ventricles furnishing 
 the imagination and those at the back furnishing movement, 
 sentiment and memory." 
 
 It would be rather risky to pretend, that in these few 
 lines Broca's theory of cerebral localisation had been foreseen. 
 It may perhaps, if one chooses, be considered as an invol- 
 untary forecast of the theories which are current at present, 
 and which in fact may still be judged too far-fetched. 
 
 But what strange peregrinations this great Cardinal had 
 to be subjected to after his death ; he who had been so 
 dreaded during his lifetime, and whose head had thence- 
 forth to roam so long about the earth like a spectre 
 escaped from the realm of shadows ; for by an inconceivable 
 fatality, the man before whom the mightiest had trembled, 
 was doomed to have no repose from the day that he 
 had entered into eternal peace. 
 
 On the very morrow of his death his tomb * nearly 
 suffered a first profanation. The Minister had accumulated 
 around him, during his lifetime, such an amount of hatred, 
 that the common people talked of nothing less than of 
 casting his remains into the common sewer ; a threat which 
 they would undoubtedly have executed if the doctors of 
 
 * The tomb, placed in the centre of the choir of the church, had 
 been originally placed on the spot previously occupied by the privies 
 of the College de Cluny. 
 
20 Q^nvlon^ m)paii)^ of ^mott). 
 
 the Sorbonne had not deemed it prudent to cause his coffin 
 to be concealed for a time. 
 
 The tomb of Richelieu was respected until the Revolu- 
 tion. But on the 19th Frimaire of the year II (19th Decem- 
 ber 1793), an order was given to search the tombs in the 
 Sorbonne, on the declaration of a certain Leblane, a member 
 of the Convention, that " a supposed treasure was suspected 
 of having been deposited there in the former church". 
 The tombs were then opened and officially searched on the 
 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd and 23rd of the same month. 
 
 While the search was being carried on, an individual, 
 "whose name," said one of the commissaries in his report, 
 " he did not remember, but who was provided with an order 
 from the department", caused the tomb of Richelieu to be 
 opened, descended into it and came up again " without 
 taking anything away ", and then caused the tomb to be 
 closed again. But what is also mentioned in the report, is 
 that an hour was given every day to the workmen " for 
 their dinner " , and that during that time there was no 
 supervision. Was it at this moment that the robbery, 
 of which we are about to relate the circumstances, took 
 place, or was it during the visit of the " individual " 
 mentioned above ? This appears rather difficult to determine. 
 
 But at all events the head of the cardinal was stolen * 
 and probably by a man named Cheval, known to be one 
 
 * This was not the only robbery committed. In the Bibliotheque 
 Mazarine by the side of the bronze bust of Richelieu in a crystal 
 casket is a little finger of the great Cardinal, which finger had been 
 stolen by one of the workmen employed in the researches, and who 
 had cut it off in order to more easily remove the rings which encircled it. 
 
 This human digit became afterwards the property of Mr. Petit-Radel, 
 brother of the librarian of that name, who gave it to the Bibliotheque 
 Mazarine. 
 
%i)c mcmain^ of m^cXim. 21 
 
 of the most ardent patriots of the section of the 
 Thermes. 
 
 Cheval was a hosier in the Rue de la Harpe, or in the 
 Rue Saint- Jacques, at a stone's- throw from the Sorbonne. 
 One day, that an honourable ecclesiastic, the Abbe Armez 
 had gone to this man's shop to make some purchase, the 
 tradesman led his client into a back-room, and there con- 
 fided to him that he possessed the head of Richelieu ! 
 On saying this he exhibited to the astounded gaze of his 
 visitor the features of the Cardinal, still enveloped in a 
 stained piece of strong cloth, an authentic fragment of the 
 shroud in which he had been wrapped. 
 
 At the request of the Abbe Armez, Cheval several times 
 consented to show the relic he possessed. 
 
 After the 9th Thermidor, fearing to be looked after on 
 account of his advanced opinions, and also that the rob- 
 bery might one day be discovered, Cheval begged and 
 prayed the Abbe Armez to disencumber him of a possession 
 he deemed to be compromising. 
 
 Later on, the Abbe made a present of the precious 
 relic to his brother. 
 
 On the return of the Bourbons, Mr. Armez wrote to 
 the Duke of Richelieu, then Minister of Foreign Affairs. 
 Did this letter go astray, or was it that the noble duke 
 cared but little to possess this family souvenir?, At all 
 events Mr. Armez received no reply. 
 
 The relic now came by right of inheritance into the 
 possession of the son of Mr. Armez. This gentleman, who 
 afterwards became a member of the French legislative 
 assembly, took all sorts of steps to be enabled to restore 
 the relic that had been confided to his care. 
 
22 ©uviott)^ f8\)pam ^f ^x^iott). 
 
 In June 1846, at a meeting of the Historical Committee 
 of Arts and Monuments, Mr. FranQois Grille informed the 
 President, the Count of Montalembert, of the intentions of 
 Mr. Armez ; but notwithstanding the efforts of the Society, 
 the head still remained sorrowing for its body. 
 
 In 1840 the head of Richelieu served as a model to a 
 historical painter, Mr. Bonhome, who was thus enabled to 
 make from nature, the portrait of the cardinal destined 
 for one of the rooms of the Council of State. 
 
 It was not until 1866, that Mr. Armez, writing to the 
 Prefect of the Cotes-du-Nord, charged him to cause the 
 skull of the eminent prelate, to be placed in the hands 
 of Mr. Duruy, then minister of Public Instruction. 
 
 On the 5th December of the same year 1866, the Minister 
 presented in grand pomp, at the Sorbonne, to the Arch- 
 bishop of Paris, Monseigneur Darboy, " what remained 
 of the great Statesman." 
 
 After the usual speeches and prayers, the casket con- 
 taining the precious remains was lowered into the tomb 
 excavated beneath the mausoleum, which had been erected 
 there in 1694 by the heirs of the cardinal. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 As might be expected, the authenticity of the treasure 
 of Mr. Armez was contested; one collector of curiosities 
 went so far as to maintain that he alone possessed the 
 head of the great Minister. * 
 
 * When the celebrated publisher Dentu, died in 1884, there was 
 found in his collection of * rare and jJrecious objects ", a head, or 
 rather a fragment of a head, which seems to have been the posterior 
 part of the skull of Richelieu : duly authenticated documents attest 
 that this well-known amateur obtained this lugubrious relic from 
 Mr. Armez. 
 
^tie OdemaiU)^ of midjtUcn. 23 
 
 Richelieu must therefore have been bicephalous! But 
 historians would no doubt have drawn attention to this 
 peculiarity. 
 
 Did Mr. Armez then possess only a spurious skull ? The 
 solution of the enigma was soon discovered: the collector 
 possessed the back part of the skull, * but Mr. Armez 
 possessed the face of the dreaded cardinal. 
 
 * It is this posterior portion of the skull that Mr. Quatrefages 
 deplored having been unable to examine. 
 
 The anthropologists of course could not let such an occasion escape 
 them to determine the phrenological characteristics of the material 
 covering of that mighty brain, whose vast conceptions had astounded 
 the world. 
 
 At the meeting of 20th December 1866, of the Paris Anthropological 
 Society, Mr. Duhousset, placing before the Society the model of the 
 face of Richelieu, read the following note : 
 
 " The oval is long and regular. As for the outlines in general, the 
 proportions of the different parts which constitute the features approach 
 by their regularity to the type of handsome. 
 
 The forehead surpasses in height the length of the nose, and it 
 widens considerably above. The glabella (space between the eyebrows) 
 is flat, and joins the eyebrows without forming a prominence. 
 
 " What nevertheless rather disturbs the general harmony of the 
 features is a slight asymmetry in the frontal region: the left side 
 projects more than the right; further, besides these general signs 
 of superior intellect, the forehead presents in the upper part a slight 
 inclination towards the summit, which characterizes the long dolico- 
 cephalous cranium of the Celt, were it not that the width at the 
 upper part is the same. 
 
 " The sub-nasal length exceeds that of the nose ; this peculiarity 
 added to the median thickness of the lower lip, of which it is easy 
 to trace the outline, though dried up, indicates disdain ; the chin shows 
 firmness, cunning and strength. The teeth are complete on the right 
 side; the four which are wanting on the left side of the lower 
 maxillary, were probably detached during the occurrences which followed 
 the violation of the tomb, and which hindered this illustrious head 
 from being restored to its resting-place until 1866." 
 
24 <$;tttt0n!§ m}\>am <>f ^i^tovt). 
 
 The face of the cardinal, was besides, in an admirable 
 state of preservation. * The skin was dried up and grumous, 
 the eyes seemed hidden in the deeply excavated orbits, 
 
 To this Mr. Quatrefages added: ' It is to be remarked that the 
 posterior part of the skull is wanting. I have had the skull in my 
 hands. The temples presented a sensible depression, the forehead 
 was considerably larger at its upper part. 
 
 " The same features are to be seen on the statue by Girardon. But 
 in the statue the skull appears to be brachycephalous, the left frontal 
 protuberance is largely developed; to the right the forehead is per- 
 fectly smooth." 
 
 Since then, Colonel Duhousset has published in the Revue Scientifique, 
 1895, the results of the anthropological study he had been able to 
 make of the skull of Richelieu, in the study of the Minister, Mr. Duruy, 
 two days before it was again deposited in the tomb at the Sorbonne. 
 
 * In the midst of the Terror, a man who on many occasions risked 
 his life to save from destruction the most precious monuments of art, 
 the art guardian Lenoir, was present in the church of the Sorbonne 
 at the moment when it was invaded by a band of barbarians bent 
 upon knocking to pieces the tomb of Richelieu. 
 
 In the scufie, Lenoir received a bayonet-wound, but the marble 
 remained intact. 
 
 These vandals satisfied themselves with dragging the body from 
 the grave and shamefully trampling upon it on the pavement of the 
 sanctuary. 
 
 " The Cardinal, whom I saw taken out of his coffin, presented to 
 view the aspect of a dried up mummy in good preservation. Dissolu- 
 tion had not altered his features. The skin was everywhere of a 
 livid hue. His cheek-bones were prominent, the lips were thin, the 
 beard reddish and the hair of the head whitened by age. 
 
 " One of the myrmidons of the Government of 1793, believing in his 
 fury that he was avenging the victims of this cruel Minister, cut oif 
 the head of Richelieu and showed it to the spectators who were present 
 in the church." 
 
 Was the body placed back in the coffin ? Did it suffer the profana- 
 tion of the sewer, like so many others? This is still an open question. 
 
 With regard to the head, we have just seen what a strange destiny it had. 
 
%i)c dlmtain^ of m^jcixm. 25 
 
 but the eyelids still preserved their lashes. The cartilagin- 
 ous portion of the nose had given way, probably under 
 the weight of the shroud. The mouth was still garnished 
 with nearly all its teeth. It was easy to recognize some 
 vestiges of the mustachios and of the pointed chin-beard 
 which in his lifetime gave him that characteristic appear- 
 ance which is so well known from his portraits. The 
 face itself was of a brownish colour, due to some parti- 
 cular varnish: Mr. Armez, having one day perceived that 
 insects were attacking it, had confided it to a Mr. Hamon , 
 a pharmaceutical chemist at Rennes, who employed this 
 coloured varnish to prevent further destruction. 
 
 The characteristics noted by anthropologists on the face, 
 were verified on the statue by Girardon, representing the 
 Cardinal, which was at the chateau de Meilleraye. 
 
 A detail but little known, is, that the head of this same 
 statue, mutilated during the Terror by some of the desper- 
 adoes of that period, became who would believe it? ... * 
 the counterpoise of the turnspit of a Limousin patriot! 
 
 * In order to write this chapter we have retouched two articles 
 previously written; one published, in the Journal de medecine de Paris 
 (n». 16, of 1892); i\\e oi\ier,m the Gazette des H6pitaux{n\2(i, oil^U). 
 
THE TEETH OF LOUIS XIY 
 
%f)at xonnU ti)t movtol tcoH)Ieg uf a fiufi 
 ^cc^^ ^eat^ ^i§ court, mt t^cre tfjc antic ^it^, 
 8cof[tn0 ^13 0tatc, anb flrtiittiuQ at fji§ pomp, 
 5(noiuitt0 ^im a kcat^, a little §ccnc, 
 ^0 mouari^iac, k fearcb, aub fill witlj loof§; 
 SttfuMue ^im wit^ gclf anb Min conceit,— 
 %^ if t^i§ fle§^ tti^ir^ walls about our life 
 9Bere bra§^ imprepable,— anb, Ijumourcb tlju^, 
 6omeg at t^e last anb wit^ a little pin 
 23ore§ t^rouglj lji§ cattle malt, anb— fareniell fing! 
 
 Richard II, iii, 2. 
 
THE TEETH OF LOUIS XIV. 
 
 It was proclaimed a miracle when Anne of Austria, 
 after twenty years of sterility, gave birth to a 
 splendid dauphin. 
 
 If miracle there was, it was rather that the infant already 
 possessed two teeth when he came into the world! * 
 
 This anomaly, it is true, is not very common. There 
 are undoubtedly several historical personages who have 
 presented this peculiarity : Curius Dentatus, Robert the 
 Devil, Richard III of England, Mazarin, Mirabeau, and, 
 in our days, Doctor Broca ; but the list closes there, which 
 sufficiently proves the rarity of this freak of nature, f 
 
 * Mercier, Tableau de Paris, t. IX, p. 162. 
 
 t According to our colleague Dr. Witkowski, the ancients predicted 
 the highest destinies to male children born with teeth and the illustrious 
 names we have cited seem to give some credence to this prejudice. 
 But on the contrary the same anomaly is considered an evil presage 
 for the female sex. For instance Valeria, the daughter of Diocletian, 
 and wife of the emperor Valerius Maximinus, being born with teeth, 
 the augurs announced that she would cause the ruin of the town 
 into which she would remove, and this prediction, says Pliny, was 
 accomplished. But history has neglected to inform us what town 
 
 29 
 
30 ©ttriottig ^\}pati)§ of ^wtorl)- 
 
 We will not go so far as to say, with our ancestor 
 Dionis, that this may tend to explain the great appetite 
 of the great monarch, a rather bold induction ; but what 
 we may venture to affirm, on the authority of a serious 
 document, is that it was several times necessary to change 
 nurses because the royal infant used to bite their nipples. * 
 
 The first nurse of Louis XIV was Elisabeth Ancel, the 
 wife of Jean Lonquet, lord of the manor of la Giraudiere, 
 King's procurator at the Finance Office of Orleans. Elisa- 
 beth Ancel suckled the young prince during three months 
 only; notwithstanding which, she was entitled, by decree 
 of the 4th of May 1639 to continue in the enjoyment of 
 the pension granted to the nurses of the infants of France 
 (Vieilles archives de la guerre, vol. 56, p. 107). 
 
 Perrette, or Pierrette, Dufour took the place of Elisabeth. 
 
 It was this Pierrette Dufour who had most to suffer 
 from the teeth of the lion-cub. After repeated bitings, 
 she suffered from certain " indurations of the breasts " 
 which obliged her to cease suckling during several days. 
 We are to suppose that it was to this wise precaution 
 that the nurse owed the cure of her breasts for the " indu- 
 rations disappeared rapidly enough f . 
 
 had this mishap. However the tragical end of this Empress, who 
 was beheaded at Thessalonica by order of her own son, partly verifies 
 the sad prognostic of the augurs. 
 
 * Don Carlos, the son of Philip II, came into the world with 
 teeth, which he used to so bad effect as to lacerate the breasts of 
 his nurse, even until the age of three years. (Gachard, 1)on Carlos 
 et Philippe II; Brussels, 2 vols, in 8vo). 
 
 t The Queen, very superstitious naturally, attributed this cure to 
 supernatural intervention, as is attested by the following curious 
 document, reproduced by Jal in his excellent Dictiovnaire critique: 
 
 "Her Majesty (the queen-mother of Louis XIV) in order to testify 
 
^cet^ of Sottiig XIV. 31 
 
 After or before Perrette Dufour, there was another nurse 
 who seems to have played but a very humble part, Marie 
 de Segneville Thierry, whose name appears in the royal 
 accounts. 
 
 An account of 1667 mentions also Jeanne Potteri, Anne 
 Perrier, Marguerite Garnier, and Marie Mesnil, with the 
 title of King\s nurses: but they were more strictly speaking 
 cradle-rockers, for they did not receive more than 30 livres 
 salary. * 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 According to an old tradition, children who come into 
 the world with teeth are like those horn irith a caul, 
 certain of happiness and fortune for life. 
 
 As for Louis XIV, who can venture to assert that the 
 prophecy was realized? 
 
 "The Louis XIV of the doctors," wrote one of our pre- 
 
 the credulous veneration that she entertained for the holy relic sent 
 to her by Your Eminence (the grand-master of the Knights of Malta), 
 has related to me how by a miracle the nurse of Monseigneur the 
 Dauphin (Louis, born the 5th September 1638, at Saint-Gerniain-en- 
 Laye), named Pierrette, the wife of a carter at Poissy, having had 
 some hardness of the breasts which were ulcerated by the teeth of 
 H. R. H., she had prayed for cure to St. Anne (patron-Saint of the 
 Queen) and scarcely had the injured parts been touched by the relic, 
 than by a miracle — so said the Queen— the pains ceased, the hard- 
 nesses disappeared and the intemperate heat caused by the pain on 
 and around the nipple, and the nurse continued to give suck to 
 IT. R. H." Cited by Jal as an extract from the SeWion of the Embassy, 
 Journey and sojourn at Court, of M. le Bailly de Fourhin, Ambassador 
 extraordinary of His Eminence and of the Order of Saint John of 
 Jerusalem, charged with the mission of congratulating the King and the 
 Queen on the happy birth of Mgr. the Dauphin. (Bib. Nafle. Msa. Suppl. 
 fr., n". 175). 
 
 * Jal. DicP" de Biog. crit., loc. cit. 
 
32 a:ttHotta m)\>aii)§> of ^movi). 
 
 cursors in the line we are following, " is not at all the 
 brilliant hero that has been pictured to us, but rather a 
 sickly young man often subject to very serious illnesses ; 
 then, later, a man always suffering, bound to observe a 
 strict diet, obliged to submit to grave operations; and 
 lastly, a gouty old man, continually tormented with gravel 
 and whose existence ends finally with gangrene." * 
 
 Such is indeed, the exact portrait of Louis XIV, as he 
 is depicted in the Journal of the King's health. 
 
 This journal, as we shall have occasion to repeat, besides 
 furnishing us an idea of the medical manners of the XVIIth 
 century, the oddities of the physicians of the period, so 
 happily ridiculed by Moliere in his immortal plays, this 
 journal, we observe, is a unique collection of documents, 
 indispensable to any one who wishes to study the thousand 
 and one complaints with which Louis XIV was afflicted. 
 
 We have perused it in order to derive our information 
 respecting the disease with which the young sovereign 
 was affected after certain youthful excesses; f we will now 
 again consult it with regard to the different dental annoy- 
 ances which plagued the King during his long existence. 
 
 One of the medical historiographers of the health of 
 Louis XIV, D'Aquin, has let us into the secret, that during 
 all his life his royal client was afflicted with a deplorable 
 dental system; but it was not however until he attained 
 the age of 38 years, in 1676, that he began seriously to 
 complain. 
 
 * Journal de la Sanli de Louis XIV. Introduction, p. IX. 
 t A youthful indiscretion of Louis XIV, in The Secret Cabinet of 
 History, first series. 
 
%CCii) of Soui§ XIV. 33 
 
 It was at the moment of the campaign in Flanders. 
 During the campaign the health of the King had been 
 pretty good, although " the fatigues of the war had not 
 been slight, so that his rest was often interrupted, even to 
 passing several nights without sleeping. " This however 
 had no ill effect upon the King's health, except some 
 "very obstinate toothaches." * 
 
 As he had naturallij very bad teeth, he was subject to 
 toothache, which however could generally be calmed by 
 a simple application of essence of cloves or essence of 
 thyme. But as it was not advisable to use essences, 
 which have the inconvenience of burning the mouth and 
 of causing nausea they were only had recourse to " in the 
 extremity of pain." f 
 
 Two years later, in September 1678, the King who went 
 out hunting in all kinds of weather, caught cold and a 
 dental abscess showed itself. The right cheek, and the 
 gum were swollen and " the abscess having suppurated 
 internally by the use of a poultice made of bread and 
 milk, it was opened with a lancet, and there issued matter 
 from it and the pain ceased with the tumour." * This 
 was evidently a svppuratlrig periostitis. 
 
 * 
 
 In 1685, the year of his marriage with Madame de 
 Maintenon, the King showed every appearance of being 
 in excellent health, although he was attacked by caries of 
 the maxillary and perforation of the sinus. 
 
 It became necessary to extract all the teeth on the left 
 side of the upper jaw, so bad were they, and after that 
 
 t Journal de la Sanie de Louis XIV, p. 135—136. 
 * Idem, ibidem, p. 140. 
 
operation there remained such a hole in the jaw that 
 when the King drank, or gargled his throat, the water 
 would go from the mouth into the nose, " from whence 
 it would flow as from a fountain." 
 
 This hole had been caused by "the splitting of the 
 jaw-bone, a portion being carried away with the teeth ; 
 it had now become carious and there sometimes flowed 
 from it sanies emitting a bad odour, the more so that 
 this hole could only be stopped by the augmentation 
 of the gum, which could not reproduce itself except upon 
 a healthy soil, that is to say by first curing the caries 
 of the jaw-bone however deeply situated it might be." 
 
 By the advice of D'Aquin, seconded by Felix Tassy, 
 first surgeon to the King, and Dubois, dentist attached 
 to His Majesty's service, it was judged that " fire only 
 could combat the action of this disease." 
 
 The patient consenting, " cauteries were made large and 
 long enough to fill and burn all the sides as deeply as 
 the caries required." 
 
 On the 10th of January, actual cautery was applied fourteen 
 times, Mr. Dubois, who held the instrument " appeared 
 to be more tired than the King who endured it." 
 
 After the application of the cautery, the doctors recom- 
 mended the King to pass three or four times a day, from 
 the mouth through the nose, a liquid or gargle " composed 
 of one quarter spirits of wine, the same of distilled vul- 
 nerary water, and one half of orange flower water, to 
 combat the putrefaction, facilitate the falling of the eschars, 
 and advance the renewa of the gum." 
 
 Caustic had to be applied three times; and finally the 
 fistula closed. The King never left his apartments during 
 the whole course of his illness. 
 
%CCii} of SOttl!^ XIV. 35 
 
 A morbid effect followed almost immediately upon the 
 malady from which the King had just recovered : after 
 the closing of the fistula, there remained for some time 
 an unpleasant smell in the nostrils, caused by the stagna- 
 tion of pus in the maxillary sinus, of which the inflamma- 
 tion continued for some time longer. * 
 
 It is not unworthy of remark that certain historians 
 have attributed to that serious buccal affection the particu- 
 lar state of mind in which Louis XIV must have been 
 when he decided to sign the fatal revocation of the edict 
 of Nantes (November 1685). 
 
 It was not until eleven years later (1696) that the 
 King again had another dental abscess. 
 
 On Saturday 12th May, the King having walked a 
 great deal, felt " worn-out, his face burning, hot flying 
 pains in the limbs; he had no appetite for dinner; his 
 pulse was irregular and he had a little fever until the 
 evening." 
 
 He perspired copiously, and appeared to be relieved. 
 
 He thought himself well again, when " a fluxion showed 
 itself on the right cheek and it became much swollen 
 near the maxillary glands." 
 
 After dinner, the King having worked with M. de Pont- 
 chartrain, and again in the evening after his walk, had 
 vapours, lassitude and fever; the cheek was red, and 
 nmch swollen. The King having had no sleep during 
 the night, remained in bed on the Wednesday morning, 
 
 * Journal de la Sante de Louis XIV, p. 162 — 164. 
 
36 ^utiott^ ^i}^aii)^ of ^i^toti)- 
 
 and slept well from noon until half past two in the after- 
 noon. He woke up without fever, but the tumour in- 
 creased in the evening and his rest was disturbed. 
 
 The following night he was better because the abscess 
 broke, which "diminished the pain and the fluxion." But 
 the King having insisted on going out on Friday, " to go 
 to Mass," the tumefaction reappeared, first of all hard, 
 but progressively softening, until it disappeared altogether 
 on the following Monday. * 
 
 The patient was not completely relieved until " three 
 pallet-fuls of blood had been drawn from him." The 
 blood-letting was followed by a purgation, because the 
 King had had an attack of gout; but a week later he 
 was well enough " to touch seventeen hundred sick persons, 
 on Saturday the eve of the Pentecost." 
 
 As the monarch advanced in age, his illnesses became 
 more serious. Gout, which had hitherto only given him 
 reminders at long intervals, tortured him more and more 
 every day. The system of diet he adopted was besides, 
 not of a nature to favour his return to health. Great 
 banquets, variety of dishes, and particularly his ravenous 
 appetite and the want of teeth, which prevented him 
 masticating his food, increased more and more his tendency 
 to dyspepsia and to congestion. 
 
 It was only during Lent, "by reason of the moderation 
 of his meals, which to him meant abstinence," that he 
 had some respite. 
 
 His teeth would nevertheless not have made him suffer 
 
 * Journal de la Sanie de Louis XIV, p. 228. 
 
%KCU} Of ^oni^ XIV. 87 
 
 too much, if he had not had the unlucky idea to torment 
 " the stump of a lower tooth, the point of which incom- 
 moded him, by endeavouring to draw it out." (1707). 
 
 The same evening he felt pain and hardness and tume- 
 faction, which involved the whole of the lower jaw accom- 
 panied by considerable induration. 
 
 The pains extended to the nape of the neck, to the 
 left shoulder, the right arm, the joint of the shoulder, at 
 the same time that a slight sore throat became manifest. 
 
 "A copious stool, mingled with incessant humours," and 
 a profuse perspiration caused these unfavourable symptoms 
 to disappear: the tumour subsided, and the pains ceased. 
 
 On the following Wednesday, 16th of the month, the 
 King had the stump drawn, which came out almost without 
 pain, and all the accidents were at an end. * 
 
 During the following eight years until the death of 
 Louis XIV, his health did nothing but decline, but his 
 extraordinary appetite never failed for an instant. It 
 was only during the last week of his life that he ceased 
 to eat as much as usual. 
 
 But his condition was getting worse every day. Not- 
 withstanding the optimism of his physician Fagon, the 
 chief surgeon, Mareschal, more frank of speech, did not 
 dissimulate his anxeity. 
 
 On Friday, the 9th August 1715, the King, although much 
 fatigued, hunted the stag at Marly, as usual. 
 
 On the 11th he complained of violent pains in the legs, 
 symptomatic of a phlebitis on the point of declaring itself. 
 
 * Journal de la Sante de Louis XIV, pp. 294—295. 
 
38 (Itti'toujg mjpati}^ of ^y\^i0X% 
 
 On the 13th, Madame de Maintenon, giving news of the 
 King to the Archbishop of Rouen, did not however seem 
 to be very anxious. * 
 
 But the next day, the left leg of the patient was much 
 swollen, the pain in the thigh and hip persisted and the 
 
 * The unpublished letter, that we print below, and which we owe 
 to the kindness of one of the most enlightened Parisian amateurs, 
 Mr. Paul Dablin, informs us fully as to the health of the King at that 
 date, that is to say twenty days before the death of the sovereign. 
 It is addressed by Madame de Maintenon to the archbishop of Rouen. 
 
 Saint -Cyr, the 13th August 1715. 
 
 '' Since we have returned from Marly the King has complained of 
 a slight pain in the left leg which he feels only in walking or moving. 
 It is a sort of gouty cramp, he looked depressed and out of sorts, the 
 pulse is very good and the appetite has come back he will remain 
 in bed to-day to see if the heat will diminish the pain ; he passed 
 these last da^'S in my room amusing himself as usual and he looked 
 very well, he is vexed and with good reason about this affair of the 
 Church. Messrs. of the Parliament refuse this declaration, Mr. Joli- 
 Fleury Avill not speak, the King wishes to go there himself and 
 there is no obstacle, the party is astonishingly insolent, threats are 
 made against the Cardinal de Rohan it is said that he and the 
 other Cardinal (de Bii-ri ?) are killing the King whilst the Cardinal de 
 Noailles makes him unhappy. It is said that the latter has diminished 
 his household and has now only two servants this is a thing to be 
 verified before it is spoken of I am not surprised. Monsieur at the 
 contradiction and persecutions you are suffering for they reach 
 even to the King anxious about my condition in the midst of so many 
 misfortunes that I have drawn down in wishing the Archbishop of 
 Paris where he is, pray for us I do not doubt but that you will do so. 
 
 The bishop of Chartres is to be here towards the 19th or 20th of 
 the month for a procession. (The want of punctuation has been scru- 
 pulously preserved in this letter [Transl.]). 
 
%ccti) of ^onx^ XIV. 39 
 
 King was obliged to remain in his room and not move. 
 
 On the 26th, the pain and swelling were considerable 
 and symptoms of gangrene were evident. 
 
 In spite of empirical remedies,* the gangrene progressed, 
 from the foot it gained the knee, then invaded the thigh, 
 the muscles of the abdomen, and ascended even " to the 
 throat" ; and death at last supervened on coma, on Sunday 
 the 1st September 1715, at a quarter past eight in the 
 morning. 
 
 The Rol-Soleil had succumbed without an effort, like a 
 candle that dies out. f 
 
 * V. Corlieu, La mort des Rois de France, 181B, p. 113. 
 
 t Journal de Dangeau, 1st September 1715, Vol. XVI, p. 136. 
 
THE 
 
 CLANDESTINE ACGOUCHEMBNTS 
 
 OP 
 
 MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIEJRE. 
 
'%U better to k (oiuli) Dovii, 
 5(ub range luitfj fjumMe Utjcr^ in coiifcut, 
 %{)a\i to l)c perfeb up in a olistcriufl Grief, 
 5tnb luear a oolben Sorrdni.' 
 
 Henry VIII. ii, 3. 
 
THE CLANDESTINE ACCOUCHEMENTS OF 
 Mdlle. DE la VALLIERE. 
 
 I J)^^ iii^ amours of the great Monarch with Mdlle. de La 
 Valliere led to the birth of four children. 
 
 History has preserved only the names of the two who 
 survived: Mdlle. de Blois, born 2nd October 1666; and the 
 Count of Vermandois, who saw the light, the same day, 
 one year later. She is almost dumb with regard to the 
 two first born, who died shortly after their birth. 
 
 It was in 1663 that the royal favourite was first ob- 
 served to be pregnant. 
 
 At Court no one ignored the relations existing between 
 the young sovereign and the maid of honour of Madame («), 
 but the secret was so well kept that nothing had transpired 
 outside. Louis had conlided his secret to one man only : 
 " absolutely trustworthy, a man, of sure confidence, a 
 worthy servitor whose only thought was to serve him," '" 
 
 (a) Princess Henrietta of England, the wife of the King's brother, 
 Gaston Duke of Orleans (Transl.) 
 
 * Memoires de Choisy, t. I : p. 110. 
 
 43 
 
44 <$;ttt*i0U)g m)\>aii)^ of ^^moi% 
 
 Jean-Baptiste Colbert, who, on this occasion played a part 
 which does not seem to have offended his dignity.* 
 
 Being at war with the Duke of Lorraine, the King had 
 been obliged to leave suddenly for Marsal, the 25th August, 
 leaving his mistress in a situation that was causing him 
 some uneasiness. It was then that he spoke to Colbert 
 of the service he expected from him. 
 
 It so happened that Madame Colbert, a respectable 
 bourgeoise, was to a certain extent a fellow-country woman 
 
 * An apologist of Colbert, Mr. P. Clement, admits, notwithstanding 
 the great admiration be professes for his hero, that the latter had 
 been obliged, in order to strengthen his position, the attainment of 
 which was to himself a source of astonishment, to receive the most 
 intimate confidences of the King, and to assist, and favour his amours. 
 
 It was Colbert who intervened, as we shall show, between the King 
 and the favourite, when the latter had for the first time retired to 
 the Convent of Chaillot, and who managed to bring her back. 
 
 Later on, it was Colbert who had the mission of making Mme. de 
 Montespan listen to reason, when she had threatened to "speak to 
 his wife." 
 
 Mr. Clement, in order to incline us to indulgence, pretends that 
 these royal freaks should not be judged according to XlXth century 
 notions: "and one ought not be astonished", says this mild censor, 
 * at the compliance of this most austere Minister with the failings of 
 the King, at a moment when Louis XIV exhibited himself publicly in the 
 same coach with Marie-Therese, La Valliere, and Montespan, while 
 the people as they passed said under their breath: ' There go the three 
 queens'; when he had all his bastards made legitimate by the Par- 
 liament, etc. ... it must be considered that, to some extent, the King 
 had the tacit support of the ideas and manners of his time." 
 
 Without being more hypercritical than necessary, we cannot but 
 deplore the sorry part played under certain circumstances by the 
 greatest Minister of the grandest of our Kings. Fortunately the 
 •' domestic services " occupy but little space in the life of J. B. Colbert. 
 
Sa ^ailihc in i^m^'^ct^. 45 
 
 of Mdlle. de La Valliere: she was in fact from the Blesois 
 country, where she had known the families of La Valliere 
 and of Saint-Remi. But the principal reason why she 
 was chosen by the King, was that she was " expert in 
 nourishing children," having brought up seven of her 
 own. * She was besides esteemed and respected, for Mazarin 
 himself had recommended his nieces to avail themselves 
 of her good offices. 
 
 It was understood that Colbert should act as interme- 
 diary, we dare not employ a more brutal term, between 
 the King and the favourite; during the two months that 
 the expedition lasted, Colbert was charged to receive and 
 transmit the letters between the lovers. 
 
 On his return to Paris, the King took means to provide for 
 his mistress all that her condition required. It was again 
 to Colbert that he had recourse in this delicate conjuncture ; 
 it was he who was entrusted with the mission of finding 
 some discreet and quiet retreat wherein to shelter his 
 liaison, and the fruit that was likely to result from it. 
 
 A gentleman of the name of Brion, more troubled with 
 want of money than with scruples, had built in the garden 
 of the Palais-Royal, at the side abutting on the Rue de 
 Richelieu, near to the former rue des Bouchers, one of 
 those pleasure retreats called Folies. f 
 
 In order more effectually to conceal this accouchement 
 the King made a present of the Brion mansion to Mdlle. de 
 la Valliere and by this means " withdrew her from the 
 apartment of the ladies of honour of Madame, among 
 whom she was." § 
 
 * Lair, Louise de la Vallih'e et la ieunesse de Louis XIV. p. 122. 
 
 t Lair, loc. cit. 
 
 § The passages between inverted commas are taken from a manu- 
 
46 (i^nvion^ m)paii)^ of ^mott). 
 
 It was necessary at once to find " a young girl, in whom 
 confidence could be placed, to act as lady's-maid." Colbert 
 fixed his choice on a Mdlle. du Plessis. " All the linen 
 and all the other things required on the occasion " were 
 got ready, probably by Madame Colbert, and introduced into 
 the Brion mansion, under pretext of being " the wearing 
 apparel " of Mdlle. du Plessis. 
 
 For suckling the infant, Colbert had arranged with a 
 certain Beauchamp and his wife, formerly valet and maid- 
 servant in his family, who resided in the Rue aux Ours, 
 to whom, says the persop who serves us as guide in 
 this narration, "I declared in confidence that one of my 
 brothers, having got a young lady of quality with child, was 
 obliged, in order to save her honour to take care of the 
 child and to confide it for suckling to their care, which 
 they accepted with joy." 
 
 Meanwhile, the King wrote several notes about the 
 affair, " nearly all of which," says Colbert, " I have burned ; 
 but among others I have preserved two, one, in which 
 His Majesty apprizes me of an accident that has occurred 
 to the said demoiselle (it is always La Valliere who is in 
 question), and another ordering me to see that Master 
 Boucher* holds himself in readiness." 
 
 script in the handwriting of Colbert, entitled: Diary Kept for each 
 week of what ha.i happened likely to he useful to the history of the 
 King, from the 14th of April 1663 to the 7th of January 1665, repub- 
 lished by the lievue retrospecUve, vol. IV, p. 231 et sequitur. 
 
 * We have found no other bibliographical notice of Boucher, than 
 
2a ^alithe in m)ilt>=\>ct>. 47 
 
 Master Boucher was the accoucheur, perhaps designated 
 by Colbert, but certainly accepted by the King, The 
 word Master, which we purposely underline, leaves no 
 doubt as to the sex of Boucher, and that is why we can 
 hardly explain how an erudite and most estimable man 
 should have ventured to say ^ that it was a midwife of 
 
 the following extract from the book of Dr. Witkowski : Accoucheurs 
 et sages-femmes celebres; and we cannot even then venture to assert 
 that it relates to the same Boucher mentioned in the following lines : 
 
 " Francois Boucher or Bouchet, son-in-law of La Cuisse, had also 
 some reputation. He remained in a chamber adjoining that in which 
 Marie-Therese of Austria was being confined, to give his assistance 
 if necessary, and," says Dionys, " when Monseigneur was born, he 
 examined the infant, without the Queen being cognizant of it." 
 
 In his Memoires sur les grands jours d'Auvergne, Fldchier has 
 devoted a few lines to this accoucheur which are not wanting in a 
 certain amount of irony. 
 
 Boucher had been called in by the President (Judge) de Novion to 
 give his services at the confinement of his daughter, Mme. de Ribeyre: 
 
 " All the ladies, on this occasion, paid court to the president and to the 
 lady who had been confined, and Mr. Boucher was the object of extraordin- 
 ary honours. He was visited by all the town and received many 
 presents, such as are bestowed on persons of great distinction or whose 
 position causes them to be highly considered, in the provinces. Everybody 
 regarded him as a person to be revered and the poor little faculty of 
 medicine and of surgery of Clei-mont tendered him most humble homage. 
 He was called in, honoris causa, to several consultations, and M. de 
 Novion never failed to treat him with all the civility due to a man 
 of science who had come all the way from Paris to render him service 
 abandoning for that purpose a practice that could not but be important. 
 His expenses were paid and he received 1800 francs; he was also grati- 
 fied with many presents, but all that did not prevent him from rather 
 complaining of the results of his journey. Mme. de Fleury, who 
 was brought to bed a month previously, was not sorry to have 
 employed only a good midwife, who had the reputation of being 
 skilful in her profession and who was very moderate in her demands." 
 
48 (^uvioit^ ^i}pan}^ of ^ii^tovi)* 
 
 the name of Marguerite Boucher who delivered Mdlle. de 
 La Valliere." * 
 
 This error having been imputed to Mdlle. de Montpensier, 
 we cannot do better than quote the fragment of her Memoirs 
 alluded to, and which to us bears a different interpretation. 
 
 " I have often heard it related," writes Mdlle. de Montpen- 
 sier, " that when La Valliere was about to be confined, 
 Madame passed through her chamber on her way to hear 
 mass at the Sainte Chapelle; Boucher who was delivering 
 her had to be hidden. She said to Madame " I have the 
 colic fit to kill me!" As soon as Madame had passed, 
 she said to Boucher: "Make haste, I want to be delivered 
 before she comes back again." 
 
 It was on a Saturday ; there was card-play in her room 
 until midnight. She partook the same as the others of 
 the " medianoche" («), her head was uncovered, just as if 
 she had not been delivered that morning." f 
 
 This passage seems to us sufficiently explicit; but we 
 can bring another authority to support it, rather untrust- 
 worthy it is true, but which, in this question of identity 
 deserves to be quoted. 
 
 The version of Mr. d'Ormesson is somewhat romantic 
 in its details, but, in the historical basis, it agrees so 
 exactly with the actual facts, as Colbert himself has 
 revealed them to us in his official journal, that there is 
 no reason to suspect its veracity. 
 
 As the grave counsellor d'Ormesson says : " I will here 
 
 * Le Roi, Union medicale, 1861, n". 97. 
 
 (a) Spanish for midnight supper (Transl.) 
 
 t Quoted by Witkowski, Les Accouchements a la Cour, p. 188. 
 Mdlle. de Montpensier here alludes to the third confinement of the 
 Duchess; we shall revert to this subject later on. 
 
Ha fSainhe in <$^^ilb l^cb. 49 
 
 write a history that is reported everywhere and which 
 may be of importance. 
 
 " On Tuesday, 18th December 1663, the Marquise de Vil- 
 leroy, being about to be confined, begged of Boucher not 
 to accept any other engagements, or at least to leave 
 word where he might be found in case of need. It is 
 said that on Wednesday morning, having come to the 
 Marquise de Villeroy, after having been sought after all 
 night long, he related, that being at home the previous 
 night, he was called for; a carriage was in waiting, on 
 entering which he was blindfolded; the coach proceeded 
 rapidly, and in about half a quarter of an hour, he was 
 ushered into a house, where, after mounting a staircase, he 
 was introduced into a chamber in which, the bandage being 
 removed from his eyes, he saw a lady in bed, her face covered 
 with a mask, with ten or a dozen people round her, un- 
 masked, the bed and the tapestries covered with cloths, and 
 that having happily delivered the lady, he was again 
 blindfolded and replaced in the carriage, which conveyed 
 him home, after receiving a proper remuneration." * 
 
 There is nothing of all this in the journal of Colbert, 
 who was not a man to employ useless phraseology, and 
 simply relates that " on Wednesday, 19th December 1663, 
 at half past three in the morning, Mdlle. de La Valliere gave 
 birth to a boy, three days after the full moon of the same 
 month of December which "had been on the fourteenth." 
 
 " A few minutes after the accouchement," continues Col- 
 bert, " Boucher let me know, by a note that it was a boy 
 giving the hour of its birth. The same day, at six in the 
 morning, the said Boucher carried the child across the 
 garden of the Palais-Royal, and committed it by my 
 
 * Journal (VOrmesson, t. II, p. 69 and sequitur. 
 
 4 
 
50 ^uviou^ fB\)paU)^ of ^ti^toti)- 
 
 order into the hands of the said Beauchamp and his wife 
 who were waiting for me at the carrefour opposite the 
 Hotel de Bouillon." 
 
 During that time, the King had gone away hunting, 
 but not without having left instructions with Boucher to 
 give him news through Colbert. 
 
 That same evening Colbert received the following message 
 from the accoucheur : " We have a fine strong boy. Mother 
 and child are doing well, thank God. I await your orders." * 
 
 We have seen what these orders were: to remove the 
 cliild from the mother as quickly as possible, and to con- 
 duct it to a safe place. 
 
 The same day, 19 December, the new-born infant was 
 taken to Saint-Leu and baptized under the name of Char- 
 les, " the son of Mr. de Lincour and of damoiselle Elisabeth 
 de Beux." 
 
 The register is signed by " Gury Focard, named Beau- 
 champ, to whom the said child is confided," Clemence 
 Pre, his wife and D. Lecouteulx. 
 
 On the 7th January 1666, at noon, " the last quarter 
 of the moon having been on the sixth" Mademoiselle de 
 La Valliere was delivered of a second son, at noon precisely. 
 
 " The same rules were observed as for the preceding 
 one ; for the King wished the matter to be kept secret. The 
 sieur (master) Boucher, who had served him in the first 
 accouchement, served him again in this ; for that purpose, 
 he entered the Palais-Royal by the back-gate of the garden. " f 
 
 That same evening, at nine o'clock, Colbert waited to 
 
 * Colbert's MS., loc. cit. 
 t Lair, p. 179-180. 
 
Srt fBalUcvc in ^f)ilt>=i>ct>. 51 
 
 receive the infant. The child was carried by a valet; 
 from his hands it passed into those of Boucher and of 
 Colbert, successively, and was by them carried to the 
 Hotel Bouillon. 
 
 There it was confided to a certain Bernard, the husband 
 of demoiselle Ducoudray, both of whom had been in the 
 service of Colbert. 
 
 On the following day, 8th January, the child was taken 
 to the baptismal font of the church of Saint Eustace, and 
 the baptismal register was drawn up in the following terms: 
 
 " On Thursday^ the 8th January 16G5, teas here baptized 
 Philip, son of Francois Berssy le Bourgeois and of Marie 
 Bernard his wife residing in the Rue Montorgueil. God- 
 father, Claude Tessier, a poor man; God-mother, Marguerite 
 Biet, daughter of Louis Biet, burgher. Signed L. Biet." 
 
 Neither Philip nor Charles, the first-born, lived more 
 than a year. The last died suddenly from the fright 
 caused by a clap of thunder, as Mademoiselle de Mont- 
 pensier says in her Memoirs, adding maliciously enough, 
 that " such a fright was unworthy the son of a King. " 
 On his side, Mr. d'Ormesson says that Mdlle. de La Valliere, 
 had already lost a son and a daughter. In a pamphlet 
 published before 1666, mention is also made of a daughter 
 of Mdlle. de La Valliere. 
 
 But the testimony of Mdlle. de Montpensier, and particularly 
 that of Colbert, contradict these assertions, and these 
 latter have in our eyes a far greater value than the 
 gossip of Mr. d'Ormesson and that of a hired pamphleteer. 
 
 Three months had scarcely elapsed after the death of 
 her second son, when Mdlle. de La Valliere was again taken 
 
52 a;ttttott§ fBijpaii)^ 0f ^m0t% 
 
 with the pains of labour. She was at that moment at 
 Vincennes, where the Court had taken up its quarters from 
 the 19th of August 1666. The King's mistress occupied 
 a chamber which served as a sort of passage to the grand 
 apartments. " It was therein that she was obliged to take 
 to her bed, to call in the doctor and to dissimulate her pains 
 so that her shame should not be publicly known." * 
 
 While in the midst of the throes of labour, Madame 
 Henriette, her former rival, passed, and cast upon her a 
 glance of contempt, without pity for her sufferings. 
 
 The child, well delivered, was a girl, known afterwards 
 as Mdlle. de Blois ; she was of course immediately taken 
 away from the mother. 
 
 The latter, wishing to hide from the Queen the offence 
 she was guilty of towards her in her own palace, ordered 
 her room to be filled with odoriferous plants and flowers, 
 without considering how injurious such emanations might 
 be to a woman in her condition ; she dressed, received 
 visits, and gave dinners. This second torture, worse than 
 the first, lasted twelve hours. 
 
 Meanwhile, the King had gone to Versailles, and 
 visited on his way, a manufacture of French point-lace! 
 in the Rue Quincampoix. 
 
 The unfortunate Duchess seems to have been doomed 
 always to bear children in pain — and in mystery. 
 
 In 1667, on Friday, 2nd October, while at Saint-Germain, 
 she was taken prematurely with the pains of labour, and 
 as formerly, was obliged to smother her cries. The next 
 
 * Lair, Louise de La Valllerr. 
 
2a ^aimtc itt a;^llb=l>eb. 53 
 
 day she was delivered of a boy who was immediately 
 borne away before she had time to give it a caress." 
 Every one suspected that she had been confined; it was 
 known, though she wished no one to know it." * 
 
 This love-child was not acknowledged by the King until 
 two years later, the 20th February 1669, and legitimated 
 under the name of Louis, Count of Vermandois. 
 
 The only details we possess of the birth of this fourth 
 adulterine child are those given, according to La France 
 Galante, by the verbose Touchard-Lafosse in his amusing 
 Chroniques de VOeil de Boiuf. We cannot undertake to 
 guarantee the veracity of his narration. 
 
 "We have at Court," writes Touchard, "new fruit, 
 but forbidden fruit, that of which the arch-fiend made the 
 first woman eat. 
 
 " Three days ago, the King, more dressed out than usual, 
 was with Mademoiselle de La Valliere; His Majesty was 
 preparing to take his pleasure in that way to which 
 women, resigned and submissive mortals, lend themselves 
 too readily. 
 
 "All at once, the effect of an event which had happened 
 nine months previously, announced itself in such fashion 
 as to oblige the Prince to put off bis gallant enterprise. 
 Matters proceeded so rapidly that, in a few moments, 
 Louis XIV found himself in the most embarrassing situation 
 possible. He was obliged to open a window and call for 
 help, giving orders to fetch immediately Madame de Mon- 
 tausier, Madame de Choisi, any one no matter whom, as 
 long as it was a woman. 
 
 At the same time a midwife was being sent for, the 
 
 * Mimoires de Mdlle. de Montpensier, Maestricht edition, t. V, p. 388, 
 
54 6:utt0it0 ^\}paU)^ of ^t^toti). 
 
 King not wishing his mistress to have the assistance of 
 a professional roan, fearing no doubt that the shrine at 
 which he had sacrificed his royal love might be desecrated 
 by profane regards. 
 
 " A crowd of willing dames hurried up, but too late to 
 prevent a vest, embroidered with pearls and precious 
 stones, from being deluged with marks of the event. 
 The ladies found His Majesty bathed in perspiration, sup- 
 porting, as well as he could, La Valliere who, clinging to 
 her lover's neck, was tearing to pieces in her clutches a 
 lace collar worth a thousand crowns. Soon the young 
 mother, had a violent pain followed by a prolonged faint- 
 ing fit; they thought she was dead . 'In God's name,' 
 
 said the King, bursting into tears, 'give her back to me, 
 and take all I possess.' 
 
 " This tender monarch knelt at the foot of the bed, pale, 
 unmanned, motionless and uttering from time to time such 
 lamentable cries as to draw tears from the ladies present, 
 and from His Majesty's doctors who had been summoned 
 as a desperate resource. 
 
 " At last, the final result of this prolonged labour appeared 
 upon the scene: it was a little boy who entered as a 
 bastard into the noble family of Henri IV. " 
 
 We do not know whether the doctors had been called 
 in as a desperate resource, as Touchard-Lafosse so boldly 
 asserts, but, refering only to the facts as they are given 
 us by the Grande mademoiselle, [a] we find that Boucher 
 
 (o) Mademoiselle de Montpensier, a Princess celebrated for her 
 eccentricities and for her masculine proclivities. [Transl.) 
 
2a fBallUu In m)nt>:Ut>. 55 
 
 was present at this accouchement as he had been at the 
 three others. 
 
 What is less contestable is, that from that moment the 
 King ceased to be enamoured of the Duchess. The real 
 explanation of this change may perhaps be traced to a 
 malicious report recorded by the Princess Palatine : the 
 King had been led to suspect that the child (the Count of 
 Vermandois) ivas not Jiis, but Lmizun's. 
 
 The delay taken by the King before he acknowledged 
 him, and the slight regret he expressed at his death, 
 would give credence enough to this opinion, but as the 
 Princess Palatine says with her usual bluntness : " It 
 would have been well if all the King's bastards had been 
 as undoubtedly his own as that one., Madame de La 
 Valliere was not a giddy inconstant mistress .... She 
 was a person altogether agreeable, good, gentle, and tender. 
 She did not love the King to gratify her ambition, but 
 she entertained a sincere passion for him, and during all 
 her life she never loved any other man but him." 
 
 Mademoiselle de La Valliere had retired from the world 
 and had already taken the veil some years before, when 
 the news was suddenly brought her of the illness, and 
 immediately afterwards of the death, of her last born. 
 She managed, under these trying circumstances, to master 
 her emotion : to a friend who said that tears would relieve 
 her, she simply replied : " Everything must be sacrificed, 
 it is for myself I must weep." * 
 
 Others attribute to her the following reply, which 
 
 * P. Clement, Reflexions sur la misericorde de Dieu, of Mdlle. de La 
 Valliere, t. II, p. 176. 
 
56 ©uvtoujg ^i)pai\)^ of fyi&iot% 
 
 however affected it may appear, is not wanting in a certain 
 grandeur: "When I shall have wept enough for having 
 given birth to him, I may then mourn, his death." * 
 
 The birth of the Count of Vermandois had been fatal 
 to his mother. From that moment, each day brought 
 nearer to the favourite the final separation from her lover. 
 
 After her last confinement, her plumpness disappeared, 
 the brilliancy of her eyes was dimmed, her face lost its 
 freshness; she had no more charms to retain a lover who 
 was no longer enamoured. Already lame from her youth, 
 by reason no doubt of a coxalgia at birth, she became, 
 and remained, almost paralyzed on the whole of one side 
 of her body. 
 
 This physical falling- off marked the beginning of her 
 disgrace. A haughtier beauty had captivated the senses 
 and the heart of the Monarch. 
 
 And as in France all finishes and begins with songs, 
 the following railing couplet circulated : 
 
 On dit que La Vallieie 
 S'en va sur son declin; 
 Ce n'est que par maniere 
 Que le Roi suit son train. 
 Montespan prend sa place, 
 11 faut que tout y passe 
 Ainsi, de main en main, f 
 
 * This reply has been variously interpreted, according to the authors 
 who have quote dit: Voltaire, Mw'c. de Caylus, the Journal de Verdun, etc. 
 
 t La V.alliere's star is on the wane 
 She has lost the King's protection 
 And if he visits her now and again 
 It is more from use than affection. 
 One's rise is another one's disgrace 
 Montespan now takes her place 
 As King Louis' last selection. 
 
THE ElKST ACCOUCHEUR 
 
 AT THE COURT OF LOUIS XIV. 
 
Sfjortcii nil) boi)g tfjoii canst iDitfj snHcn sorroio, 
 3(nb pind nigljts* from nic, Bnt not Icnb a niorroii) ; 
 2;^on canst ^clp time to fuivoiu nic lottfj a^t, 
 SBnt sto)) no mrinflc in i)\^ pilQrinmoc; 
 2^1) morb i^ cnrrcnt luit^ ^im for nil) bcat^, 
 ^ut beab, ttjij ftngbom cannot but) mij brcat^. 
 
 Richard IL i. 3. 
 
THE FIRST ACCOUCHEUR AT THE COURT OF 
 
 FRANCE-THE C0NF1NI!MENTS AND THE 
 
 DEATH OF MADAME DE MONTESPAN. 
 
 REVious to the end of the XVEth century, matrons 
 (midwives) were alone entrusted with the ac- 
 couchement of the queens of France and of princesses of 
 blood royal. 
 
 The Court physicians and surgeons remained in an ad- 
 joining chamber, but there is no case mentioned in which 
 their services were required. 
 
 Julien Clement was the first accoucheur who officially 
 assisted the princesses of the Court of France in their 
 confinements. Until the delivery of the Dauphine, Anna- 
 Maria- Victorine of Bavaria, the queens and other princesses 
 had always been assisted by midwives. 
 
 Marie de Medecis, wife of Henri IV, had employed as 
 midwife the celebrated Louise Bourgeois. Anne of Austria, 
 wife of Louis XIII, had been delivered by Mme. Peronne, 
 and lastly Maria Theresa of Austria, wife of Louis XIV, 
 is said to have employed Marguerite Boucher *. 
 
 * This at all events is what is pretended by M^". Le Roi. But has 
 he not rather confounded Marguerite Boucher, the midwife, with the 
 accoucheur of that name, Francois Boucher ? 
 
 59 
 
60 ©u vioii0 f&i}pati)^ of ^i^toti). 
 
 The Dauphine, Victorine of Bavaria, being particularly- 
 delicate, the greatest precautions had to bo taken while 
 she was enceinte. The King, who ardently wished for a 
 grandson, must have been specially anxious about the 
 exact time when the confinement would take place. It 
 is probable that Louis XIV consulted his physicians on 
 that important matter, and among these, the man whom 
 he honoured with his utmost confidence, the illustrious 
 Dr. Fagon. This physician, the medical attendant of Mme. de 
 Montespan, recommended to the King the accoucheur 
 Clement, of whose talents he spoke highly, so much so 
 that Louis XIV" would hear of none other to deliver the 
 Dauphine. 
 
 Julien Clement may then be considered as the first 
 officially appointed accoucheur of the princesses of the 
 House of Bourbon. * Not only did he usher into the 
 world all the children of the Dauphine, daughter-in-law 
 of Louis XIV, but he was also the accoucheur of the 
 Duchess of Burgundy, of her sister the Queen of Spain, 
 
 * It does not appear quite certain that Clement was official accoucheur 
 hij title to the Princesses of the blood royal, and we must be satisfied 
 with what D"". Ch^reao says on the subject. 
 
 " All that I can state," says our colleague, " is that I have among 
 my papers the lists of the persons officially attached to all the royal 
 family under Louis XIV, and therein no mention is ever made of the 
 appointment of an official accoucheur, a post pertaining to the committimus 
 and to the domestic officers of the royal household. We find a chief 
 physician, a physician in ordinary, eight physicians (attached), a number 
 of other physicians unattached, a " spagyrist " physician, a chief surgeon, 
 eight surgeons (attached), four apothecaries, four assistant apothecaries, 
 an apothecary-distiller, three bone-setters, one operating oculist, two oper- 
 ators for the stone, one dentist and nine barbers. But there is no 
 record of any accoucheur having free table and livery at Court, according 
 to the expression of that time." {Union mkiicale, 1861, t. IX, p. 36). 
 
(S^lcmmip (^onvi ^ccomf^mv. 61 
 
 whom he delivered of three successive Princes, and of all 
 the great ladies of the period. From Clement's time 
 onward none but accoucheurs were employed at Court, 
 instead of midwives. 
 
 Under Louis XV it was Levret who delivered the 
 Dauphine. 
 
 Under Louis XVI, the accoucheur Vermond delivered 
 Marie- Antoinette. 
 
 Under the First Empire, as soon as Marie-Louise became 
 enceinte, Baudelocque was appointed to assist her, and as 
 he died shortly after his nomination, Antoine Dubois took 
 his place. 
 
 Under Louis-Philippe it was Moreau who assisted the 
 Duchess of Orleans. 
 
 Lastly under Napoleon III, as soon as the Empress 
 Eugenie showed the first symptoms of pregnancy, Paul 
 Dubois was appointed accoucheur to the Court. 
 
 Of these several personages, some held the appointment 
 without the title, such were, Clement, Levret, Antoine 
 Dubois, Moreau; whereas during the Regency, under the 
 Republic and the Consulate, under Louis XVIII, Charles X 
 and during the first years of the reign of Louis-Philippe, 
 any accoucheur that might have been appointed would 
 have had the title without any duties to perform. Paul 
 Dubois was perhaps the only one who had both. 
 
 This digression has taken us away from Clement, an 
 obscure personage, but who, by the sole fact of having 
 been the first accoucheur appointed at Court, deserves 
 that his name be not buried in oblivion, Clement was 
 
62 duviou^ m)paii)^ of ^i^tot^* 
 
 besides, the accoucheur most in vogue in the XVIIth century, 
 and that in itself is worth recording. Among other notable 
 clients, he had Madame de Montespan, which is not his 
 least title to glory. It has been said that he had also 
 delivered the Duchess of La Valliere of the children she 
 had by Louis XIV; but this is manifestly an error. 
 
 At the time of the first accouchement of Mdlle. de La 
 Valliere, in 1663, Clement had not yet attained his fif- 
 teenth year (having been born at Aries in 1649) ; that 
 alone refutes the idea of his having assisted the favourite. 
 What is particularly droll, as we shall show further on, 
 is that there appears to have been a confusion with 
 Mme. de Montespan, for all the details given by the his- 
 torian Astruc, and after him by Sue, * the ancestor of the 
 novelist, on the part played in this circumstance by 
 Clement, apply perfectly to the daughter of the Morte- 
 marts (a). 
 
 Julien Clement already had a great reputation when 
 Fagon pointed him out to the notice of Louis XIV. After 
 having studied the humanities in his native town and 
 gone through his apprenticeship as surgeon, he went to 
 Paris where he entered, as sub-assistant surgeon, into the 
 
 * In his Essais historiques sur Vart des accouche ments, SuS, the younger 
 says that Clement delivered the Duchess of La Valliere of the children 
 she bore Louis XIV. "At her first confinement," he writes, 'as she 
 desired the utmost secrecy, Clement was taken to a house in which 
 he found Madame de la Valliere (sic) her face hidden beneath a hood, 
 and it is asserted that the King was hiding within the curtains of her 
 bed." This is but an idle tale, as we believfe we have proved. 
 
 (a) Mme. de Montespan. 
 
house of Jacques Lefevre, one of the most famous accou- 
 cheurs of his day. His zeal and skill soon gained him the 
 favour of his master, who shortly afterwards bestowed 
 on him the hand of his daughter. 
 
 It was at Bareges, where Fagon had accompanied the 
 Duke of Maine, * that the King's chief physician had 
 occasion to appreciate the qualities of the young master 
 in surgery. Clement had, thanks to his efforts, obtained 
 this degree, which his talents deserved. 
 
 The Dauphime being close upon the critical moment, 
 Fagon remembered his protege, and spoke favourably of 
 him to the King. " So formal a recommendation, coming 
 from Fagon, had such weight on the mind of the monarch 
 that all the efforts of rival surgeons of good repute to 
 supplant him were fruitless, the King, adhering absolutely 
 to the recommendation of Fagon." 
 
 From that moment, his fortune was made. The dames 
 of highest quality, the most distinguisheid bourgeoises 
 " generally inclined to ape the ladies of highest rang, 
 
 * The Duke of Maine came into the world with a club-foot. The 
 chief physician judged it necessary to send him to the waters of Bareges. 
 
 A person of confidence was sought for to take charge of the child. 
 Louvois went secretly to Paris and proposed this mission to Scarron's 
 widow, who accepted it. 
 
 The letters addressed by her to the King under these circumstances, 
 pleased him so much that they were the commencement of the con- 
 nexion, perhaps the intimacy, between them. 
 
 Some years previously, the widow Scarron had urgently solicited 
 Louis XIV to allow the pension of 1500 livres paid to her late husband 
 to revert to her. The King had persistently refused, and it was not 
 until later, at the instance of Madame de Montespau, that he granted 
 her a pension, not of 1500 livres, but of 2000 {Vide, on that subject 
 the Melanges histofiques, satiriqueft, anecdotiques, of M"". de B . . . 
 Jourdain, t. I). 
 
64 C^ttviott-S f&i}pati}^ of ^i-^toti)* 
 
 would no more, as far as they could help, have any other 
 accoucheur than the one in favour at Court." 
 
 A few years later Clement was summoned three 
 consecutive times by the Queen of Spain, sister of the 
 Duchess of Burgundy. He thus ushered into the world 
 successively three princes, to the great satisfaction of their 
 august parents. 
 
 "In the year 1711, Louis XIV, wishing to worthily 
 recognize the services rendered by this skilful man to the 
 royal family, besides the liberalities he had already received 
 from His Majesty, and among others, the dignity of first 
 gentleman of the bed-chamber to the Duchess of Burgundy, 
 which had been conferred upon him, was graciously pleased 
 to grant him letters patent of nobility, charging him at 
 the same time, not on that account to abandon his pro- 
 fession, so that the princesses of blood royal, whose happy 
 fecundity had given so many princes and princesses to 
 his royal family, should not be deprived of a help so 
 efficacious to augment its number, and that other noble 
 and distinguished dames, as well as those of different 
 condition, might, also be enabled to have the advantages 
 of his services." * 
 
 Clement continued to practice as accoucheur for some 
 time longer, giving his help with equal readiness to rich 
 and poor, until the fatigue of his professional duties 
 obliged him to retire. 
 
 * The passages between inverted commas are borrowed from a 
 biography of Clement published in the Index funereiis, and which 
 reappeared for the first time in the Union Medicale, 1861, t. XI, p. 37 
 et sequitur. 
 
dKement^ (^ontt %ccond)mt\ 65 
 
 He died on the 17th October 1728, aged 80 years, and 
 was buried in the church of Saint-Andre-des-Arts, as 
 attested by the certificate of his death. 
 
 " This Saturday, ninth of October 1728, was interred 
 here Mr. Jul. Ant. Clement, first gentleman of the 
 Chamber of Madame la Dauphine, deceased the preceding 
 day in his house, rue Christian, at the age of about 80 
 years. Were present: Master Alexandre Julien, Counsellor 
 to the King in his Court of Parliament, the lord of the 
 manor of Feuillette, his son; master Claude-Frangois, De 
 la Ville du Portault, King's counsellor at the Court of 
 Taxes, undersigned : 
 
 De la Ville du Portault. 
 
 Clement de Feillet. Clement, 
 
 Clement had no children by his first marriage. 
 
 By his second marriage, ho had two sons: the eldest, 
 King's counsellor at the Court of Parliament of Paris, the 
 other invested with the dignity of counsellor before the 
 grand Council. 
 
 It was to the good offices of Clement that Louis XIV 
 had recourse, when Madame de Montespan was found to 
 bo pregnant by him. 
 
 Mme. de Montespan had not less than seven, some say 
 eight offspring of royal lineage. 
 
 The first-born died at the age of three years, without 
 having been acknowledged. 
 
 The next four were : The Duke of Maine, the Count of 
 Vexin, Mdlle. de Nantes, Mdlle. de Tours. 
 
 5 
 
66 auviouiS ^i)paii)& of ^movi). 
 
 Then came the Count of Toulouse and Mdlle. de Blois, 
 who must not be mistaken for the Princess of Conti, 
 daughter of Louis XIV and the Duchess of La Valliere. 
 
 The first pregnancies of Mme. de Montespan were most 
 carefully hidden from observation. When she could not 
 do otherwise than appear in public, Mme. de Montespan 
 donned a dress so ample, and the folds of which were so 
 ingeniously disposed, that every one was immediately aware 
 of what was sought to bo hidden. As the Duchess of 
 Orleans says, with her habitual malignity : " When she 
 puts on a dress of that kind, it is as if she has written 
 on her forehead that she was enceinte ; at Court, everybody 
 said : Mme. de Montespan has put on a wide gown, Mme. de 
 Montespan is therefore enceinte." By antiphrasis, these 
 gowns were called innocent robes. 
 
 Une robe de chambre, etal^e amplement 
 Qui n'a point de ceinture et va nonchalaniment, 
 Pour certain air d'enfant qu'elle donne au visage 
 Est nomm^e innocente, et c'est de bel usage. 
 
 So says Boursault in his Mots a la mode {a). 
 
 Who can better inform us concerning the pregnancy of 
 Mme. de Montespan, than that malicious gossip Bussy- 
 Rabutin, whose stories must be received with a certain 
 amount of caution, but who was so much addicted to 
 listening at half- opened doors, that he must sometimes 
 have been well informed? 
 
 {o) A morning gown of ample space 
 
 And without a girdle; — a careless array; 
 
 From the childish look that it gives to the face 
 
 Is "an innocent", called, and the fashion to-day. 
 
^Untmi, ^oxivt %cconifi)cut\ 67 
 
 It is in this fashion that Bussy * relates the birth of 
 the Duke of Maine (31 March 1670); although not obliged 
 to believe implicitly all his statements, one cannot but 
 recognize a certain piquant relish in his chronicles. 
 
 Let us now hear what he says: 
 
 " Some time after Monsieur de Montespan had been 
 exiled to his estates by order of the King, for having 
 boxed the ears of Mme. de Montespan who, having found 
 a relish in the caresses of the King, could no longer 
 suffer those of her husband and refused to henceforth 
 grant him anything whatever, Madame his wife became 
 enceinte ; and although she was perfectly aware that every- 
 body knew what was going on between her and the King, 
 that did not prevent her being in some confusion when 
 she was perceived to be in that condition. That was the 
 reason which made her invent a new fashion very ad- 
 vantageous to women who wish to dissimulate their 
 pregnancy, which is to dress like men, excepting a very 
 wide skirt, over which at the waist the shift was made 
 to puff out as much as possible so as to hide the belly. 
 
 " However the time for the lying-in of the lady approach- 
 ing, the King withdrew to Paris, where he seldom went, 
 hoping that she might be there confined more secretly than 
 if he remained at Saint-Germain, where he usually resided. 
 " When the time arrived, a lady's-maid of Mme. de 
 Montespan, in whom the King had particular confidence, 
 got into a coach, and presently went to the rue Saint- 
 Antoine, to the house of Clement, the celebrated accoucheur, 
 whom she asked if he would come with her to deliver a 
 woman who was in labour. She at the same time told 
 
 * In the France Galante, published a la suite, oi UHistoireamoarcu^e 
 des Gaules, of Bussy-Rabiitin. 
 
68 a;ttvi0ttj^ fBi)pat\}^ of ^yx^tovi). 
 
 him that his eyes would be bandaged, because it was not 
 desirable that he should know where he was going. 
 Clement, who was accustomed to this sort of thing, seeing 
 that the maid who came to fetch him looked respectable, 
 and that this adventure could not be otherwise than to his 
 profit, accepted, and told the woman that he was ready to 
 accompany her, and having allowed his eyes to be bandaged, 
 he mounted into the coach with her, and after having been 
 taken by a roundabout way, was finally led to a superb 
 apartment where the handkerchief over his eyes was dropped. 
 
 He was not however, given much time to examine the 
 place ; in fact the candles were put out, after which the 
 King, who was hiding behind the bed-curtains said to him 
 that he might be without fear. Clement replied that he 
 feared nothing, and coming nearer, he examined the patient. 
 Seeing, however, that the delivery would not be immediate, 
 he asked of the King, who was next to him, if the place 
 in which they were was the house of God, or if it was 
 not permitted to eat and drink therein, that, as far as 
 he was concerned, he was very hungry, and would be glad 
 to have a bite of no matter what. 
 
 " The King, without waiting for any of the chamber- 
 women to do that service, made haste to serve him, and 
 finding in one of the cupboards a pot of jam, he went to 
 find some bread elsewhere, saying that it could not be 
 wanting in the house. After that Clement had eaten, he 
 asked if it was not possible to have something to drink. 
 The King went himself to fetch a bottle of wine from a 
 cupboard, and poured him out one after another several 
 glassfuls. Clement having drank first, asked of the King 
 if he would not also take a glass, and His Majesty having 
 refused, Clement added that the lady might not be delivered 
 
(^Ummi, (^onvt ^Uc0n(!f)mv. 69 
 
 so wel], and that if he wished her to be promptly delivered, 
 he would do well to drink to her health. 
 
 * The King did not think proper to make any reply ; 
 and Mme. de Montespan being just then taken with pain, 
 this interrupted the conversation. Meanwhile she clutched 
 the hand of the King who exhorted her to take courage, 
 and he repeatedly asked Clement if the affair would not 
 soon be over. The delivery was laborious, although it did 
 not last long ; and Mme. de Montespan having given birth 
 to a son, the King testified much joy ; but he objected to 
 its being immediately made known to her lest the emotion 
 might injure her health. 
 
 " Clement having done all that pertained to his trade, 
 the King poured him out some more wine, after which he 
 again retired behind the bed-curtains, it being necessary 
 to light a candle, so that Clement might see tha,t all was 
 right before leaving. Clement having assured himself that 
 his lady patient had nothing more to fear, the young 
 woman who had fetched him, handed him a purse con- 
 taining one hundred louis d'or, and then blindfolded him 
 once more ; then having made him again get into the 
 coach, she escorted him with the same ceremony to his 
 home ; that is to say, after the coach had taken a round- 
 about route as before." 
 
 Hardly had the babe seen the light than the widow 
 Scarron (a), whose acquaintance Mme. de Montespan had 
 made at the house of the Marechale d'Albret was sent for. 
 The obliging widow took away the child, hidden beneath 
 
 (a) Later, Mme. de Maintenon. 
 
70 i^uvlon^ mjpaii}^ of ^t^totl). 
 
 her scarf, and with her own features concealed beneath a 
 mask; she returned to Paris with her precious burden. 
 Mme. de Caylus, who gives us the details of these minute 
 precautions, adds : " and what fears did she not feel that 
 the infant might begin to cry ! " 
 
 The widow Scarron already aspired to play a first part, 
 and her intrigues so far succeeded that she managed later 
 on to supplant her friend, the favourite of the day, and 
 to become queen in her turn, and not a queen of the left 
 hand, but queen in fact — the legally married wife of the King, 
 
 On June the 20th 1672, the third illegitimate child of 
 Mme. de Montespan by Louis XIV was born. 
 
 On this occasion it was Lauzun, a man ready for all 
 jobs, the most agreeable as well as the most repugnant, 
 who took the future Comte du Vexin in his cloak and 
 deposited him in the coach of the serviceable widow 
 Scarron, who had been boldly introduced into the very 
 chamber of the confined lady. 
 
 Clement had been fetched with the same precautions as 
 on the previous occasion, only this time he received a fee 
 of two hundred louis instead of one hundred as before. 
 * The same conditions were observed each time that his 
 services were required and he received as much as four 
 hundred louis for delivering Mme de Montespan of her. 
 fourth child. But, whether this seemed excessive to the 
 lady, who was naturally inclined to economy, or for other 
 reasons, the Great Alcander (Louis XIV) having again got 
 her in the family way some time afterwards, she sent to 
 treat with Clement, that he might send one of his assis- 
 tants to Maintenon, where she had resolved to be confined. 
 There she passed as one of the good friends of the Mar- 
 quise de Maintenon, so that the assistant who delivered 
 
(^Icnxcni, ^outt ^Ucond^mv. 71 
 
 her was not aware that he had delivered the mistress of 
 the great Alcander." * 
 
 In reality, Mme. de Maintenon had but little love for 
 Mme. de Montespan, of whom she was jealous, and was 
 eager to supplant her ; and if she was prodigal of caresses 
 to the children of her rival, it was less her friend whom 
 she sought to please than Louis XIV. 
 
 In 1675, the widow Scarron had gained ground in the 
 esteem of the monarch and at that moment she began to 
 hope to become favourite, the King either because he was 
 beginning to get old, or because he was moved by religious 
 scruples, having separated from Mme. de Montespan. 
 
 This separation did not last long and ended in a recon- 
 ciliation, Mme. de Montespan came back to Paris, and 
 took the sacrament at Easter, to the great edification of 
 everybody, and distinguished herself by most pious conduct. 
 
 The reconciliation took place in the apartments of Mme. 
 de Montespan. It was understood that the saloon in which 
 the two interesting lovers should meet, was to be embel- 
 lished by the presence of the " most respectable and grave 
 Dames at Court." 
 
 At the appointed hour, the King appeared. A moment 
 afterwards he took the favourite with him into a window 
 corner, where they conferred quietly, shed a few tears, 
 simulated or sincere, then courteously saluting these 
 venerable dames, they went into an adjoining chamber; 
 whence resulted, says Mme. de Caylus, Mme. the Duchess of 
 Orleans, and afterwards, the Count of Toulouse." 
 
 * Bussy-Rabutin, loc. cit. 
 
72 (^uv\0n^ m)paii}^ of ^mott). 
 
 The birth of the Count of Toulouse, was for Mme. de 
 Montespan what had been for La Valliere the birth of the 
 Count of Vermandois, it tolled the funeral knell of the 
 King's love, and was the signal of the disgrace of the 
 Montespan. 
 
 Mnie. de Maintenon, who now comes forward on the scene, 
 took care to throw the last shovelfuls of earth upon the 
 defunct amours, and it was not without some secret joy 
 that she wrote the following rather cruel lines : 
 
 " Mme. de Montespan neglected nothing to regain her 
 influence over Louis, and he tried what he could to free 
 hioiself ; she feared that the birth of the Count of Toulouse 
 would leave her some malady which might disgust the 
 King. She was imprudent enough to ask if this was the 
 case, and the King was cruel enough to admit it. He had 
 just come from the hunt, bathed in perspiration. Mme de. 
 Montespan, more irritated at the coldness by which she felt 
 more insulted than by the insult itself, answered angrily, 
 that she might indeed support his faults, he having so 
 long put up with her own, and reproaching him at the same 
 time, said, that ambitious love may perchance tolerate 
 that which sensual love can never pardon. This last stroke 
 was too mucb for the King. He could never forgive it. 
 In vain Mme. de Montespan, on her knees, embraced his 
 feet; he lifted her up again, without showing either anger, 
 love or pity." * 
 
 There was an other reason for this coldness of the 
 
 * Mdinoires de Madame de Maintenon, passage quoted by D"" Witkowski 
 in his Accouchements d la Cour. 
 
(^Ummi^ ^onti 5(cconcf)ettt\ 73 
 
 King: Mme. de Montespan was getting old, approaching 
 sixty, and the only lien attaching her to the King con- 
 sisted in her children. 
 
 She thenceforward dragged on a few years of an aban- 
 doned existence, until death as saith the Scripture^ came 
 to deliver her from her remorse and from her pains. * 
 
 The funeral of Mme. do Montespan was scandalous. " The 
 body, " says St. Simon, " remained a long time at the door 
 of the house, while the canons of the chapter of the 
 Sainte Chapelle de Bourbon and the priests of the parish 
 were disputing their respective prerogatives, with much 
 indecency." 
 
 The church was almost deserted. Mass being over, the 
 body was deposited in a common tomb ; it was not until 
 some time later, that the Duke of Antin, f the only 
 legitimate heir, had it placed in the family tomb at Poitiers. 
 
 * Madame de Montespan died at Bourbon rArchambault, an inland 
 watering-place already in repute owing to the visits of Gaston d'Orleans, 
 the brother of Louis XlII, of Boileau, of the Marshal de Meilleraye, 
 etc. Madame de Montespan came there several times to recover from 
 the fatigues of her semi-royal confinements. 
 
 t The Due d' Antin, having been informed of the hopeless condition 
 of his mother, went post-haste to Bourbon, and without leaving his 
 coach or even asking news of the dying lady, required that the casket 
 of Madame de Montespan be delivered into his hands. He was answered 
 that she always carried the key about her person. He at once went 
 into the apartment of the dying Duchess, searched in her bi-east, took 
 possession of the key, emptied the casket, and started away again 
 with the letters and jewels he found therein, without expressing a 
 word of grief, sorrow, or regret. A few moments later, Madame de 
 Montespan expired. (AlUer and Dufour, L'Ancien Bourhonnais), 
 
74 ettttou^ f&i}paif)^ of ^moti). 
 
 But even the body did not arrive intact at its final 
 destination, 
 
 " This body formerly so perfect, " (it is still St. Simon 
 who is speaking), " became the prey of some sort of 
 apprentice surgeon from heaven knows where, who being 
 then at Bourbon wanted to open it, without knowing how 
 to set about it." 
 
 According to a tradition, the Duchess, before dying, had 
 bequeathed her heart to the convent of La Fleche, her 
 body to the Abbey of Saint-Germain and her entrails to 
 the Abbey of Saint-Menoux. 
 
 La Fleche and Saint-Germain duly received their melan- 
 choly legacy; but a peasant having been commissioned to 
 convey the entrails to the Benedictine convent at Saint- 
 Menoux, and perceiving on the way that they were be- 
 ginning to putrefy, threw them into a ditch, where some 
 dogs and a lot of pigs tore them to pieces. * 
 
 Had Louis XIV any sorrow for this lamentable end? 
 
 The King, after attending a stag-hunt, walked about the 
 gardens until evening f ; and, having heard the news, he 
 calmly replied, that from the moment he had dismissed 
 her, he had hoped never to see her again, and had thence- 
 forward considered her dead to him. § 
 
 That was all the funeral oration vouchsafed to her by 
 the man to whom she had borne eight children. 
 
 * V Ancien Bourhonnais, loc. cit. 
 t Dangeau, Memolres. 
 § Saint-Simon, Memolres, 
 
ILLUSTRIOUS REMA.INS 
 
 ANATOMICAL RELICS 
 
 Mme. de maintenon's skeleton and 
 Mme. db sevigne's skull. 
 
antiaMe lotJcli) htat{)l 
 2^ou oborifcroitS §tcncO ! Souiib rottenuegg ! 
 5trigc fort^ from t^c coitc^ of lasting nig^t, 
 Xim fjatc anb terror to ^ro^^jeritij, 
 5(ub S will fi§g t^9 httmaUt boueg; 
 5lttb ^ut mt) ci)e=6dB in t^t) tiaultt) kott)§; 
 3(ub ring H)tU fingcr§ ttJitfj t^i) !)oii§c^olb U)or«t§; 
 3tub Stop tfjig gap of breat^ witfj fulsome tim, 
 5lub 6c a carrion mounter life tljij^elf: 
 6ome, grill on me, aub 3 will tljiuf t^ou SmileSt, 
 5(!ib 6uSS t^ee a§ tlji) mife. 9)liScri)'S lotje, 
 Dlj! come to me! 
 
 K. John, HI, 4. 
 
ILLUSTRIOUS REMAINS AND ANATOMICAL RELICS. 
 THE SKELETON OF MADAME DE MAINTENON 
 AND THE SKULL OF MADAME DE 
 SEVIGNE. 
 
 T is a foible of the human mind, or rather an 
 ^^ endemic mania, for it seems to have prevailed 
 in all times, to venerate human remains because they are 
 vestiges, most often of doubtful authenticity, of individuals 
 who living, were the object, for some reason or another, 
 of public attention. Superstition plays so considerable a 
 part in this connection that it borders upon insanity. 
 
 Feuillet de Conches, the special historian of curious 
 matters has left us some astounding revelations on this 
 subject. 
 
 Artemisia, he says, from pure love, drank down the 
 ashes of her defunct husband, mixed with water and 
 pounded pearls. 
 
 In our days a lover is said to have found a solace in 
 drinking from the delicate porcelain cup that he had caused 
 to be kneaded with the ashes of the hair of his dead 
 mistress. 
 
 77 
 
78 ^ttdou)^ f&ijpam <>f ^l^iovt). 
 
 In 1751, the lovely marquises between their gallant 
 adventures and their delicate suppers, played with human 
 skulls. The virtous Maria Leczinska had one, which she 
 called her darling, and which she pretended was that of 
 the lovely Ninon de Lenclos. 
 
 The case of Artemisia drinking the ashes of her dead 
 husband, is not a solitary one. We remember also a tale 
 once published by Mr. Jules Claretie, in his lively and 
 picturesque chronicles in the Temps, and re-edited by 
 Philippe Gille, at the head of his Reminiscences of his 
 grand-father Louis-Frangois Gille, reminiscences known 
 under the title of: Memoires d'un consent de 1808. 
 
 Mr. Gille, the father, had at one time in his possession 
 the bones of Madame de Maintenon! He had seen them, 
 had handled them. Returning from Caprera and from the 
 British pontoons, the grandfather of our eminent colleague 
 of the Figaro had become steward's clerk at the royal 
 School of Saint-Cyr (a) about 1814. The school was then 
 under the direction of General d'Albignac; the head steward 
 was a Mr. Guillaumot. In the lodging given to Gille 
 was a cupboard, in which was a mysterious box bearing 
 on the lid the following half-effaced inscription: Bones 
 of Madame de Maintenon. 
 
 In 1793, the tomb of the widow Scarron had been 
 desecrated like many others, the lead covering of her 
 coffin had been stolen, and her bones had been dragged, 
 through the streets of Saint-Cyr by the wild fanatics of 
 the village. After having been carried about on a hurdle, 
 
 (o) School founded by Mme. de Maintenon for the education of the 
 daughters of needy King's officers. They were required to prove at 
 least four quarters of nobility. {Transl.) 
 
%f)c 3attJ§ of ^catlft; 79 
 
 they were thrown down near to the Polygon (a). It was 
 there that a worthy abbe bound them up and brought 
 them back during the night to the School. This fact was 
 certified to Gille by the author of UHistoire des Frangais 
 des divers Etats, the erudite Alexis Monteil, then professor 
 at the School of St. Cyr, and by the surgeon attached to 
 the School. This latter personage, an ardent Jacobin, 
 added even the following detail: that the worthy priest 
 had taken one bone too many, and that this bone was the 
 tibia of a cow ! 
 
 General d'Albignac was several times most anxious to 
 give a proper sepulture to the remains of the mistress of 
 the Grand Monarque. He wrote to the Minister, he spoke 
 about it to the Duchess of Angouleme. He addressed 
 himself to the Duke and Duchess of Berry. But he 
 met with the cold shoulder everywhere. The Bourbons, 
 it was said at the time, finding so many pretenders to 
 the title of Louis XVH, were afraid of meeting with some 
 new impostor, who might claim to be a lineal descendant 
 of Louis XIV by Madame de Maintenon. 
 
 The bones of the foundress of the School of Saint-Cyr 
 remained therefore in the hands of Mr. Gille. But, one 
 evening, after a dinner to which he had been invited by 
 some of his Caprera comrades, one of the guests, by name 
 Paluel, afterwards secretary to Baron Athalin under the 
 government of Louis Philippe, wished, by bravado to just 
 take a taste of a bit of the broken skull. It made him 
 ill ... . from fright no doubt, but he consoled himself by 
 boasting everywhere: " All the same I have eaten a bit 
 of La Maintenon ! " 
 
 It was not until the government of Louis-Philippe had 
 
 («) The butt for artillery practice. {Transl.) 
 
80 a;uti0tt0 fBijpaU)^ of ^movi). 
 
 come into power that these bones were replaced in the 
 tomb stlil existing in the chapel of the school. 
 
 While some time ago seeking information regarding the 
 death of Madame de Sevigne, we became acquainted with 
 the wanderings of her skull : we will confine ourselves 
 now to what strictly concerns this lugubrious odyssey. 
 
 When the violation of the tomb of Madame de Sevigne 
 happened, the municipal authorities were present, the 
 local administration, followed by a number of citizens, 
 had gone to the church of Saint-Sauveur for the purpose 
 of finding a considerable quantity of lead in the family 
 tomb of the Counts of Grignan, in which the body of 
 Madame de Sevigne had been deposited. * A mason of 
 the place, twenty years old, who was employed to raise 
 the slab over the tomb, wanted to have some part of the 
 remains of the celebrated Marquise. 
 
 He cut off a lock of her hair, of which he gave a part 
 to the naturalist Faujas de Saint-Fond ; the rest he wrapped 
 up in paper and hid it in a hole in a coach-house. 
 
 Later on, this last relic was divided by the eldest 
 daughter of the mason between Mr. Charles de Payan- 
 Dumoulin, lieutenant in the navy, and Mr. Deves, clerk 
 to the Justice of Peace of Grignan. 
 
 This latter gentleman preserves preciously, in a box, the 
 portion of the lock of hair that came to him, and which 
 it is said, is quite white and stained with lime. The 
 
 * Three or four of the workmen present descended into the vault 
 and broke open six or seven coffins that were there, in order to steal 
 the lead, which was sent by the municipality to the district of Montelimar. 
 
%f)c 3aiD§ of ^catf). 81 
 
 mason also took possession of a morsel of the brocaded 
 frock that enveloped the remains, and which was almost 
 intact. 
 
 The Justice of the Peace of Grignan, at the time of 
 which we speak, Mr. Pialla-Champier, * was also present 
 at the exhumation. He had the skull of the celebrated 
 Marquise saivn in two, and forwarded the upper part to a 
 school in Paris that it might be the subject of an anthro- 
 pological examination. 
 
 Mr. Saint-Surin, one of the editors of the correspondence 
 of Madame de Sevigne, asserts that he heard that this 
 anatomical specimen was submitted to the examination of 
 Dr. Gall. We shall see later on what was its fate. 
 
 We may add that another eye-witness of the exhuma- 
 tion, Mr. Veyrene, notary at Grignan, got possession of 
 a fragment of a bone of the Marquise (a piece of one of 
 the ribs Om.Oi in length), that he had enclosed in a glass 
 frame, over which he wrote the following verses : 
 
 De sa beaute voila les tristes restes, 
 
 Le trait fatal ne les respecta pas. 
 
 Mais si tout passe et s'enfuit ici bas, 
 
 L'esprit survit aux temps los plus funestes. (a) 
 
 The medallion in which this bony fragment is enshrined 
 
 belongs now to Mr. Louis Fayn.f 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 (a) Her beauty now lies shrivelled and wrecked, 
 
 The fatal dart showed here no respect. 
 
 But though here below all dies and decays, 
 
 Wit still will survive the stormiest days. (Transl.) 
 
 * Mr Pialla also had one of the teeth of Mme. de Sevigne handed to him ; 
 
 this tooth, set in a gold ring, was given to Mme. de Cordoue de Tain ; 
 
 whose daughter was, afterwards, educated along with Mme. Pialla- Champi. 
 
 t Le Mire, A propos of the second centenary of the death of Mme. de Sevigne. 
 
 6 
 
82 ^ntlon^ fBijpaii)^ of ^i^totlj* 
 
 We shall now assist at the last act of this drama which, 
 in some of its aspects, so closely approaches to farce. 
 
 In April, 1870, the old stone pavement of the sanctuary 
 and choir of the church of Grignan was being taken up 
 and replaced by the fine pavement of compressed cement 
 which can be seen there to-day. Besides a large quantity 
 of bones, mixed with lime, spread about in disorder in the 
 soil, there appeared a skull, very regularly sawn in two, 
 and the exterior of which, relatively clean, showed that 
 it had been formerly handled, Mr. Leopold Faure took 
 the impression of the contour of the section made by the 
 saw on a piece of paper which he preserves as a voucher 
 for comparison, in case the upper part— sent to Paris — should 
 happen to be found again. The half of the skull just dis- 
 covered was then put back again, in the presence of 
 witnesses, in the place where it had been found, and the 
 sepulchre was immediately closed with a sealed stone slab. 
 
 It appears therefore evident that the tomb at Grignan 
 contains but one half of the skull of Mme. de Sevigne. 
 Where the other half may be is a question we have been 
 unable to determine. 
 
 At one time we rather hoped to find it in the collection 
 of celebrated skulls at the museum, called the Collection 
 of Gall and Dumontier ; but Mr. Manouvrier, the professor 
 of anthropology, whose authority is universally recognized, 
 and who has made a profound study of this collection, 
 assured us that the skull of Mme. de Sevigne did not figure 
 therein. 
 
 Directing our investigations in another direction, we 
 searched in a bundle of papers collected some time back 
 for a work on Ilhisfrlous anatomical remains, to see if it 
 might contain something concerning the skull of Mme. de 
 
^(K 3ah)^ of ^cai% 83 
 
 Sevigne, and chanced upon the following slip, no doubt cut 
 out of some daily Parisian newspaper : 
 
 " We read in the Nancy papers : 
 
 " Many people are not aware that our town possesses the 
 skull of the celebrated letter writer of the XVIIth century, 
 known in her day as the all gracious Marquise de Sevigne, 
 nee Marie de Rabutin de Chantal, grand-daughter of Saint 
 Jeanne de Chantal, who founded the Order of the Visita- 
 tion. 
 
 " This relic is preserved at Nancy, in the library of the 
 Dominican Fathers ; the lower maxillary of this skull is 
 wanting, having become detached during its removal from 
 Provence to Lorraine. 
 
 " The skull of Mme. de Sevigne was given to the monastery 
 founded at Nancy by Lacordaire, by a collateral descendant 
 of the Marquise. Further, all the proofs of authenticity 
 and the historical documents are contained in a compart- 
 ment forming a double bottom to the casket in which the 
 skull is preserved. " 
 
 Possessing these indications, we at once wrote to the 
 Prior of the Dominicans at Nancy, the Very Reverend 
 Father Tripier, who honoured us with the following reply : 
 
 " Nancy, 15th June 1896. 
 
 " To Doctor Cabanes, 
 
 "Sir, 
 
 " We possess a skull, which tradition asserts is that of 
 the illustrious letter writer of the XVIIth century. 
 
 • M. de Saint-Beaussant resided at Nancy when Father 
 Lacordaire came there to preach a mission in the cathedral. 
 He became a monk, and gave Father Lacordaire a little 
 house which, with a few modifications, forms now the 
 actual nucleus of our convent. 
 
84 
 
 (^mioxt^ ^i)pam of ^^pi^io\% 
 
 "M. de Saint Beaussant was an artist, and a disting- 
 uished qollector of curios: it is he who gave us the skull 
 so-called that of Mme. de Sevigfie. 
 
 " The monks, his contemporaries, have disappeared, 
 leaving, to my knowledge, no document to establish the 
 authenticity of the skull. 
 
 " The skull is in a circular box of card-board, six or 
 seven inches in height : it appears to be of a respect- . 
 able age. 
 
 " On the cover is fixed a card, with the following in- 
 scription in old handwriting : 
 
 Tete 
 
 DK MaDAUE 
 
 POLB Monsieur 
 
 DE 
 
 Sevigne 
 
 Garnieb. 
 
 
 Chez Monsieur de Bochefort | 
 
 
 Rue Caumartin, 
 
 N°. 12. 1 
 
 " I have endeavoured faithfully to reproduce the dimen- 
 sions of the card and the writing. 
 
 " The skull is largo, widening out somewhat behind, 
 a little narrower in front. The frontal bone is very regular 
 in form and rather largely developed. 
 
 " The length of the skull is fifteen and a half centi- 
 metres. 
 
 " The width of the frontal bone above the eyes is 
 11|^ centimetres (4f inches). 
 
 " The width of the skull at the back is fourteen centi- 
 metres. 
 
 " The competence and caution of M. de Saint Beaussant, 
 the inscription of which I have given you a fac-simile, 
 
^ffc Srtin^ 0f ^caif^. 85 
 
 and the tradition preserved in the convent at Nancy, are 
 the sole evidence we possess. 
 
 " The authority of Mr. de Saint Beaussant, a good con- 
 noisseur and artist, is the only source of the tradition. 
 
 " At the convent of our Fathers in the rue du Fau- 
 bourg Saint-Honore, the Very Reverend Father Faucillon, 
 formerly Prior at Nancy, might perhaps be able to furnish 
 you with more precise information as to how and whence 
 the skull came into the possession of M. de Saint Beaus- 
 sant; and which we should be glad to know was that of 
 Mme. de Sevigne. 
 
 " Please accept. Sir, my respectful salutations 
 
 " P. Teipier, prior." 
 
 In order to complete our research, we paid a visit to 
 the V. Rev. Father Faucillon, who received us with a 
 courtesy that we are happy to acknowledge. He, how- 
 ever, could but simply confirm the information so oblig- 
 ingly supplied to us by his colleague at Nancy. 
 
 " Mr. de Saint Beaussant," said he to us, " was a man of the 
 world who entered our convent at Nancy, the first founded 
 in France, after having attended the preachings of Father 
 Lacordaire. From whom he obtained the object in question, 
 I do not know. At any rate, he was no relation of the 
 Rabutin family. He belonged to an ancient Lorraine 
 family, and had never inhabited Provence. All I can tell 
 you, is that he was an amateur of enlightened taste, and 
 that, if he thought to make us a present of the skull of 
 Mme. de Sevigne, he did so in perfect good faith. He may 
 himself have been mystified ; the thing is possible, and I 
 
86 (S^urtoti^ S3l)^atp of ^mox% 
 
 will admit to you that if we never presented that ana- 
 tomical relic to any museum or to a medical collection, 
 it was because we had in hand no document to vouch for 
 its absolute authenticity. Nevertheless, it appeared cer- 
 tainly to be the skull of a woman, and the grain, the polish, 
 the ivory hue of the bone testified to its antiquity. The 
 box also in which it was contained had an ancient look. 
 On this box a card had been affixed, looking much like 
 a playing-card with the back turned upwards, and which 
 was fixed there with sealing-wax all dried up and crumbling 
 away. In any case, it would be to-day impossible to 
 determine precisely who had been the original possessor 
 of the skull now in the custody of the convent at Nancy. 
 
 " Mr. de Saint Beaussant, who alone could have enlightened 
 you usefully, died at Oullins, in one of our convents, and 
 he has left no family. Under these circumstances..." 
 
 It would seem therefore as if there were two skulls of 
 Mme. de Sevigne about in the world: the true one, or 
 rather a portion of it, and an imitation? * 
 
 Some time back — and this is a tale of yesterday— a 
 small leaden box was offered to one of the great Paris 
 museums, containing some bones, with the following in- 
 scription engraved upon it: 
 
 Remains of Gaspard de Coligny, Admiral of France, 
 killed on St. Bartholomew's day, the 24th August 1572, etc. 
 
 This same box had been already presented thirty years 
 
 * Our article on the death of Mmc. de Sevigne irom. which the fragment 
 here reproduced is taken, appeared in the Rerue hehdoinadaire, of the 
 11th July 1896. 
 
%i}c ^at0^ of ^caii). 87 
 
 previously to the Archaeological Society of Orleans, but the 
 Society had refused it. 
 
 It is very certain that in this manner the danger of 
 being the victim of a gross fraud was avoided. 
 
 In 1851, the remains of the illustrious Admiral had been 
 replaced in a case which was sealed up into one of the 
 walls of the ruins of the castle of Chatillon-sur-Loing, 
 where they probably still repose, unless the fragments of 
 bone contained in the case have been abstracted by some 
 fanatic or . . . speculator ! 
 
 Towards 1830, Mgr. de Quelen, the Archbishop of Paris 
 had the relics of St. Vincent de Paul transferred to the 
 chapel of the Lazarist Fathers in the Rue de Sevres, 
 although the skeleton had been burned in one of the great 
 aute-dos-fe of the Revolution. * It is true, it had been 
 asserted that a notary had preserved it in his house during 
 all that stormy period. But who has ever furnished the 
 proof? 
 
 I know of no one, wrote Mr. Aime Giron, speaking of 
 Duguesclin, whose mortal remains have been more dis- 
 puted and pulled to pieces, the tombs more mutilated and 
 displaced, and the ashes more maltreated than those of the 
 Constable of France. 
 
 Duguesclin had expressed a wish that his body should 
 be transported to Dinan, to the funeral chapel of his 
 ancestors. The journey to Britanny was commenced. 
 
 The first halt was at Le Puy. There, in the convent 
 
 * De Fonvielle, La Physique des Miracles, p. 66. 
 
88 a:tttiou)^ f&\)paif)^ of ^mott). 
 
 of the Jacobin friars, a service was to be celebrated, the 
 body exposed during one day, then embalmed, notwith- 
 standing the rule in such cases to incinerate it and put 
 the bones in a sack. Accordingly on the 23rd July there 
 was " great pomp and every abundance of mortuary 
 triumphs " with fifty wax candles, a cloth of gold emblazoned 
 and with black embroidery — further, a funeral oration by 
 the theologian of the convent. 
 
 Now it chanced that the Viscounts of Polignac had 
 their sepulture in the church of these friars. Considering 
 themselves to be in some degree at home there, and being 
 under obligation to the Constable, who once had come to 
 their assistance, they suddenly declared their formal in- 
 tention to keep his entrails, which were thereupon well 
 and truly " entombed in a fine monument ..." 
 
 For about two centuries the eternal repose of the great 
 Breton captain was not disturbed. But in 1567, the un- 
 frocked knight of Malta, Blacon, lieutenant of the Baron 
 des Adrets, at the head of 8000 Huguenots, camped in the 
 convent and did not quit until the church had been ravaged 
 and the monument mutilated. 
 
 The tomb remained in this state until the year VIII of 
 the Republic when a certain prefect had a fancy to see, 
 and did see, " the said entrails. " 
 
 In 1833 the coffin was restored and removed to a chapel. 
 
 . . . In the sarcophagus was found a double round 
 leaden box. On the smaller, which was quite modern, 
 was inscribed : " Here repose the ashes of the heart and 
 viscera of Constable Duguesclin entombed in the church 
 of St. Laurent and exhumed the 5th complementary of 
 the year VIII of the French Republic under the prefecture 
 of Citizen Lamothe." 
 
%f)c ^ati}^ of '^caiih 89 
 
 This little box contained merely a few pinches of an- 
 cient ashes. The only spectators were some priests, 
 curious, respectful, and silent, as they stooped to regard 
 the relic, scarce daring to breathe, for the least puff of 
 air would have sufficed to scatter what remained of the 
 entrails of the great Constable. 
 
 Let us now return to the year 1380, when the body 
 left Le Puy in its coffin. The escort had already reached 
 Le Mans, when the orders of a third party — Charles V — 
 reached them and were bound to be obeyed. The King 
 commanded that the body of Duguesclin should be interred 
 at Saint-Denis " in a high tomb, with great solemnity, in 
 the chapel that he had caused to be constructed for him- 
 self," says Froissard. 
 
 The body was therefore conveyed to Saint-Denis, " Where 
 the King had his obsequies performed as if it had been 
 for his own son." A white marble statue of him was 
 carved and set upon a tomb of black marble, before which 
 night and day there burned a lamp. 
 
 Duguesclin's lamp continued burning until 1709, when 
 some repairs displaced and extinguished it. Eighty-four 
 years later, the Revolution came and violated at the same 
 time all the tombs in the basilic of Saint-Denis. 
 
 Of the Constable there remained but a few bones, but 
 the head was entire, from which some of the hair was 
 plucked. * From these remains, thrown pell-mell into the 
 same pit with the ashes of Kings— the skull was piously 
 abstracted, f 
 
 * De Goncourt, Ilistoire de la SocUte frangaise pendant le Directoire 
 p. 287. 
 
 "• Le Figaro, October 1895. 
 
90 O^^ttttou!^ f&i)paii)^ of ^^movih 
 
 "I have been assured," adds Mr. Giron, "that it is in 
 Paris, in the possession of the rector of the church of 
 Saint-Thomas d'Aquin, the abbe Rigat. But I have not 
 been there to see." 
 
 With regard to the heart of Duguesclin, it found a 
 refuge in the Cathedral church of Saint-Sauveur. A white 
 marble cenotaph was erected for it, and, on a shield, in 
 bright golden Gothic letters, is the following inscription: 
 Here lies the heart of Sir Bertrand du Geaquin, in his 
 lifetime Connestable of France icho quitted this life the Xlllth 
 day of Jidy of the year one thousand III'" IIIF'' of whom 
 the body rests with those of the Kings at Saint-Denys in 
 France. 
 
 The body of Turenne was long preserved in the Museum 
 of Natural History. 
 
 Beaumarchais, in a letter printed in the journal La clef 
 du cabinet des Souverains, published by the widow Pane- 
 kouke, asked the minister Fran9ois de Neufchateau to put 
 an end to such a scandal. Beaumarchais wrote in 1798 ; 
 two years later Bonaparte had the body of Turenne trans- 
 ferred to the Invalides. 
 
 The heart of Turenne was so small in volume that when 
 the army surgeons charged with the embalming examined 
 it; they could not overcome their astonishment. The hero 
 furnished them another subject of surprise: he possessed 
 but one kidney. * 
 
 * * 
 
 The vicissitudes of anatomical remains! what chapters 
 * Vigneul-Marville, Melanges cChhtoire et de littSrature. 
 
%f}c ^att>» of ^eaif). 91 
 
 pregnant with revelations for the lovers of the curious in 
 history do they not present! 
 
 We remember, in this connection, to have rendered 
 ourselves guilty of an indiscretion which raised, at the 
 time, a fine hubbub. In running through the pages of a 
 volume of medical anecdotes, we discovered the following 
 unexpected statement: that the medical men who had 
 made the autopsy of the great Emperor had been obliged 
 to interrupt their work at nightfall ; and next morning 
 the heart of Napoleon was no longer to be found . . . because 
 it had been eaten by the rats! 
 
 My erudite colleague, Dr. Bremond, had picked up this 
 fact in the Memoirs of Dr. Antomarchi, one of those who 
 were present at the last moments of the exile of Saint Helena. 
 
 So that the curious thousands who had filed before the 
 tomb in the Invalides had knelt before the heart ... of a 
 sheep! for it was the viscera of this peaceable animal 
 which had been substituted for that of the conqueror of 
 the world! * 
 
 The same misadventure had occurred to the heart of 
 Arnaud, the hermit of Port-Royal, and also to the heart 
 of the Regent. A splendid Danish dog, without the least 
 respect for these dead muscles, had simply gobbled them 
 up without any ceremony, f 
 
 A simple reflection to conclude with. Is there any 
 
 * See Intennedtaire des chercheurs et des curieux, 1864, p. 46; 1865, 
 p. 42; 1879, pp. 98, 151; 1887, pp. 549, 658. 
 
 t See for Heartfi devoured, the Infermediaire, 1886, pp. 58, 216. 
 
 It was asserted that the heart of Louis XIV had undergone the same 
 fate. The followinjj is what we found in an old journal of which un- 
 
92 ^uvt0u^ f&t)patf)^ of ^^movi). 
 
 interest in preserving in our museums the skull of 
 Richelieu or the brain of Talleyrand, unless indeed they 
 
 fortunately we cannot now remember either the title or the date. We 
 give the extract simply as a matter of curiosity: 
 
 * About ten years ago, at No 104 of the Rue du Faubourg Poisson- 
 niere, there existed a house where was installed a Catholic professional 
 school for young girls, under the direction of lady patronesses. Messrs. 
 Corbon, Son, & Co. the proprietors, have had the house demolished and 
 have built over the garden planted with trees attached to it. The 
 site is now occupied by three modern houses. 
 
 " An extremely curious souvenir is attached to this ancient mansion. 
 Before the Revolution, it was the residence of a wealthy Englishman, 
 Doctor Buckland, whose name has become legendary, by reason of a 
 fact which has perhaps no precedent in history. 
 
 " One day, Labouchere relates, the authentic heart of Louis XIV was 
 brought to the Doctor to have his opinion on this singular relic. It 
 was somewhat dried up and shrivelled having much the appearance 
 of a bit of leather. The learned doctor examined it closely with the 
 greatest attention, smelt it for a long time, so long that at last he 
 swallowed it ! ! ! 
 
 "Did he do so on purpose or inadvertently? It was never known 
 exactly. The adventure created a terrible sensation ; but as restitution 
 was out of the question, the matter ended there. We may add that 
 the remains of Dr. Buckland repose at Westminster, but the heart of 
 Louis XIV had been digested long before the doctor died. 
 
 " Unfortunately a recent discovery altogether contradicts this story. 
 
 " The Mus^e Carnavalet, came into possession, about two years ago, 
 of a letter from the Count de Maurepas, minister of Louis XV, dated 
 at Versailles, 19th March 1730. Mr. de Maurepas informs the Duke 
 of Artois, that in obedience to an order from the King, the heart of 
 Louis XIV will be deposited on the next following day, 21st March, 
 in the church of the Jesuit Fathers in the Rue Saint-Antoine. He 
 begs him to ariange with Mr. Robert de Cotte, architect of the King's 
 buildings, and with the comptroller of the household, Jules do Cotte, 
 in order to place the heart " in the mausoleum constructed to receive it." 
 
 To this letter is joined the official record of the ceremony, which, 
 in fact, took place in the morning of the 21st of March. 
 
3:0e ^am of ^eaii). 93 
 
 present some peculiarity from an anthropological point of 
 
 view 
 
 ? 
 
 And again, ought the hair of Maxiniilien Robespierre 
 and the pretended head of Charlotte Corday to find a 
 place next to our most remarkable masterpieces of ancient 
 and modern art? particularly as we are always exposed 
 to the most grotesque mystifications. 
 
 Among others of this sort, one which caused some 
 laughter at the time was the following: the maxillary of 
 the author of Tartu ffe had been found again. Mr. Darcel 
 who had received it for the Musee de Cluny from the 
 heirs of Dr. Cloquet, had offered it to the administrator 
 of the Theatre Fran^ais, the only sepulchre worthy of 
 such a relic. * 
 
 * See with regard to Moliere's jaw-bone the Intermediaire, I, 109, 
 246; VIII, 452, 538; X, 581. And the pamphlet entitled EeJique de 
 Moliere, by Mr. Ulrich Richard Desaix. In this latter publication 
 mention is made of a reliquary belonging to Vivant-Denon and con- 
 taining, besides a bone-fragment of Moliere, a lock of hair of Agnen 
 Sorel, another of hiez de Castro, part of the moustache of Henry IV, 
 a bit of the shroud of Tiirenne, some of the hair of General Desaix, 
 one of Voltaire's teeth, fragments of bone of Heloise and of Abeilard, 
 of the Cid and of Chimene, of La Fontaine, and lastly a lock of the 
 hair of Napoleon T. 
 
 On the fate of the body of La Bruyh-e see Intermediaire, 1887, 
 p. 678. 
 
 On that of Voltaire, fragments of which were disseminated about 
 almost everywhere: Petite Revue, 1866, t. 11, p. 182; Intermediaire I, 
 62, III, 8; XVIII, 389, 452, 536; XXI, 12; Revue dcs autographes, 1.5th 
 August 1866; Revue de la Revolution (unpublished documents) t. VII, 
 p. 109. 
 
 On the skull of Mirabeau, the Intermediaire, XX, 452. 
 
 On the anatomical remains of Dante, the Amateur cV autographes, t. 
 IV, pp. 175, 192. 
 
94 ^urtottig m)patf^^ of ^movt). 
 
 But unfortunately, its authenticity had been much con- 
 tested. One irreverent humourist went so far as to in- 
 sinuate that this jaw-bone of Moliere was at the most 
 that of Regnard ! . . . * 
 
 It would be well if, these frauds could only cure our 
 aberration. Shall we at last some day come to under- 
 stand that the memory of a great man, and above all the 
 example of his deeds, are of higher value than this abdica- 
 tion of our reason before matter, fatally condemned to 
 destruction ? 
 
 On the head of Stofflet (a), the Intermidiaire, 1892, II, pp. 15,308. 
 
 On the corpse of Descartes, Journal de Medecine de Paris, 1890, pp. 
 662-663. 
 
 On the head of Coligny, the Intermidiaire, XV, 38-5, 436, 498, 
 593, 655. 
 
 (a) One of the most heroic, and certainly the most energetic and 
 active of the commanders of the Vendean royalist insurrection against 
 the first Republic. After performing wonders, to the admiration even 
 of his enemies, he was at last taken prisoner by the Republican troops, 
 and shot on the 23rd February 1796. (Transl.) 
 
 * Regnard, a comic poet, dramatist and novelist of considerable 
 talent, of the 17th century. In comedy, he is said to be second only 
 to Moliere. He has left a great number of works, many of which are 
 highly esteemed. (Transl.) 
 
ri) 
 
 THE PHYSICIAN 
 
 MADAME DE FOMPADOUB. 
 
^atje more t^an i\)o\i sfjoujcst, 
 S^ca! lees t^nii ii)on tnom^l 
 Senb lc§^ tfjan tljou ott»e§t, 
 9{tbe more t^an t^ou goeet, 
 Settrn more t^aii t§ou troiocst, 
 Set Ie§3 t^an t^ou tfjrottiest; 
 SeatJC t^ij brin! anb t^ij wfjorc, 
 5tttb tttp iit=a boor, 
 3(nb t^ou s^alt fjaoe more 
 Xf^an two tens to a score. 
 
 K. Lear, I, 4. 
 
TBE PHYSICIAN OF MADAME DE POMPADOUR. 
 
 HE eighteenth century, so much ransacked, and 
 still so fertile in surprises, is it to be considered 
 only as the epoch of delicate suppers, of charming women, 
 of vapours and of patches ? Is it not presented to us 
 somewhat as a perpetual fairy scene in which only libertines 
 and idlers play the principal parts ? 
 
 The writers of scandalous stories deceived us then when 
 they caused to pass before our fascinated gaze the spectacle 
 of that mad saraband in which marquises and courtly ahhes^ 
 beaus and noble duchesses, all rode the legendary broom- 
 stick that carried them straight to the witches' sabbath? 
 
 When the reign of Louis XV was spoken of, it was 
 with a meaning look, and on the lips a smile full of 
 indulgence or of hauteur. Ah ! what a time of secret 
 scandals, of quiet abductions, of arbitrary rule and of 
 licence without check ! 
 
 One of the most singular characteristics of this epoch, 
 so full of singularities, is the contrast between a life of 
 easy pleasures and one of hard work. The old world is 
 tumbling down, the ancient regime is falling to pieces, the 
 
 97 7 
 
98 O^ttHoU)^ ^ijpaii)^ of ^m0x% 
 
 citadel of superstition is cracking, and no one pays atten- 
 tion ; the fiddles are ordered, the ball is at its height, the 
 growling of the storm can be heard, but the clouds are 
 yet far off, we are still in shelter, Apres nous, le deluge ! 
 
 The Encyclopaedists have generally been credited with 
 having been the pioneers of the Revolution ; of having 
 prepared by their writings the way by which advanced 
 the bold Titans who made of it a huge but superb 
 reality. It is forgotten, that in this labour, they were 
 aided by others, of more modest aspect, who accomplished 
 their task without noise or ostentation. 
 
 At that time there were assembled a handful of factious 
 individuals who conspired without intending it, and that 
 in the very apartment of Madame de Pompadour, — that 
 upstart hourgeoise, but yesterday only Mme. d'Etioles, to-day 
 the real Queen of France — of the left hand. 
 
 Whilst, in an adjoining chamber, the courtesan endeavours 
 to revive the faded senses of her royal lover, at the same 
 time that with exquisite hand she signs disgraces or distrib- 
 utes favours, that she crushes beneath her heel a Choiseul, 
 a Bernis or a Machault, all ready devotedly to kiss her 
 hand, certain independent spirits express the broadest and 
 most subversive opinions, without heeding who might be 
 listening at the doors. 
 
 There were times even when their discussions made 
 the walls tremble, for these conversations were often 
 animated. 
 
 Sometimes the favourite condescended to take a seat 
 at that table where the most ingenious paradoxes, the 
 boldest theories circulated. 
 
 Here we might recognize most of those who later on 
 would wield the pen to stigmatize abuses, ignoring the 
 
past and preparing the future. Here were to be seen 
 dining together, d'Alembert, of cynical face ; Duclos, so 
 well described by Jean Jacques Rousseau as a straight- 
 forward clever man ; Diderot, who is ruminating in his 
 vast intelligence the Encyclopaedia ; Marmontel; the un- 
 frocked priest, author of certain mo)-al tales, so-called by 
 euphemism. Buffon, careful of his ruffles, which did not 
 prevent him from being a great genius in natural history ; 
 all these enjoy the hospitality of the host, who seldom 
 utters more than a few words, but each equivalent to a 
 sentence,— the celebrated Doctor Quesnay. 
 
 Louis XV had given Quesnay a lodging in the apart- 
 ment of his mistress, close to the boudoir of the favourite. 
 The doctor was rather cramped for room in his apartment, 
 but, he consoled himself with the philosophical reflection 
 that he was lucky to have before his eyes an unbounded 
 field of observation. 
 
 But the amiable doctor had another whim which served 
 to dissipate his ennui, if he ever had time to feel any. 
 
 He might be seen wandering about the palace of Ver- 
 sailles, close shaven, with smiling countenance and laughing 
 eye. You saw him obsequious and polite, fulfilling con- 
 scientiously his duties as court physician. Undeceive your- 
 self. Dr. Quesnay was reflecting * beneath the mask of 
 
 * Louis XV had surnamed liim The Thinker. When he ennobled him, 
 he asked him to choose for himself his coat of arms. He chose three 
 pansies {pensees) on a field argent, with fesse azure, and the device: 
 Propter cogitationem mentis, " a sort of riddle, if you like," says 
 d'Alembert, * like many other escutcheons, but an honourable rebus, 
 because it is true." 
 
100 ^nvxon^ !Bl)J>rttp of ^moxi). 
 
 polite idleness, on the most arduous problems of social 
 economy. 
 
 Whilst in the Boudoir of Madame de Pompadour the 
 question of peace or war was being decided, and the 
 choice of generals, the maintenance or revocation of min- 
 isters, was being deliberated upon ; our doctor, as indifferent 
 to what was going on at Court as if he were a hundred 
 leagues away, was quietly writing down his axioms of 
 rustic economy. * 
 
 He resided at Court, ignoring the language of the place, 
 not seeking to acquire it, nor to have any intimacy with 
 the inhabitants, f 
 
 The only persons with whom he loved to converse were 
 the men of letters or the philosophers who came to see him. 
 
 First of all there were the writers of the Encyloixnlia , 
 to which he himself was one of the most assiduous con- 
 tributors. § 
 
 There was Duclos, the royal historian, for whom he 
 professed an evident sympathy, based on community of 
 ideas and of temperament. Next came Buffon, and Turgot, 
 then quite young, who later on, when in power, put the 
 ideas of the Master into practice. 
 
 In this society, Quesnay maintained his freedom of 
 speech. 
 
 A large collection might be made of the witticisms 
 
 * Marmontel, Mimoires. 
 
 t Mercure de France, Nov. 1778, loc. cit. 
 
 § For that dictionary he wrote the articles Farmers and grain, and 
 also Evidence, which shared the fate of most articles of the kind, that 
 of being but little read, less understood, and strongly criticized. 
 
that escaped him in the heat of discussion. Nothing ever 
 hindered him from bluntly saying what he thought was 
 the truth. 
 
 At the time of the conflicts between the clergy and 
 the Parliament, he heard in the saloon of Madame de Pom- 
 padour, a courtier propose to the King to use violent 
 measures, saying: "It is with a halberd that a kingdom 
 is led." 
 
 "And who. Sir," answered Quesnay, "wields the 
 halberd?" 
 
 And seeing that the further explanation of his thought 
 was expected, he continued, 
 
 " It is public opinion ; and it is public opinion that 
 must be considered." 
 
 On another occasion, the Dauphin, the father of Louis XVI, 
 Louis XVIII, and Charles X, was complaining of the 
 troubles of royalty. 
 
 "Now what would you do if you were King?" said 
 he, turning to Quesnay? 
 
 "Your Highness, I should do nothing." 
 
 " Then who would govern ? " 
 
 " The laws ! " 
 
 It may now be asked what was Quesnay's attitude 
 towards Louis XV. 
 
 It was more than respect, it was affection that the 
 Doctor entertained for the monarch. He proved it many 
 times, but more particularly on the following occasion. 
 
 In the middle of the night, Madame de Pompadour 
 woke up her maid of the bed-chamber, worthy Mme. du 
 
102 a:ui?iott^ f&i^paif}^ of ^moti). 
 
 Hausset, who has preserved for us the details of the 
 incident. 
 
 " Come quickly, " she said, "'' the King is dying. " The 
 maid hastily put on a petticoat, and much alarmed, came 
 to the King. 
 
 What was to be done? They sprinkled water on him, 
 which revived him ; and made him swallow some drops 
 of Hoffmann's liquor. 
 
 " Let us make no noise, * said the King as soon as 
 he could speak. " Only go to Quesnay and say that 
 your mistress is taken ill, and tell his servants to say 
 nothing. " 
 
 Quesnay came at once, and was much surprised to find 
 the King so ill. He felt his pulse and then said : * The 
 crisis is past, but had the King been sixty years old, it 
 might have been serious." 
 
 He returned to his apartment to fetch some drug, prob- 
 ably the drops of General Lamotte, and afterwards deluged 
 the King with scented water. 
 
 A cup of tea was then given to the patient; who 
 returned to his apartment, leaning on Quesnay's arm. 
 
 The next day the King handed secretly to Qnesnay a 
 note for his mistress, in which he said : " My dear friend 
 must have been much alarmed, but let her be tranquilized, 
 I am now well, as the doctor will inform you." 
 
 Quesnay received a pension of one thousand crowns 
 for his care and discretion, and the promise of a situation 
 for his son. 
 - The doctor was reassured for the time, but he often had 
 
^pom^dbottt^j^ *pr)t)§iclaiu 103 
 
 fears as to what would happen if the King were to die 
 suddenly. 
 
 Mirabeau once said to him: . "I think the King looks 
 very ill, he is getting old." 
 
 "So much the worse, a thousand times the worse!" 
 said Quesnay; "it would be the greatest loss to France, 
 should he happen to die." 
 
 And he detailed all the consequences of that event, 
 which might have, according to him, such deplorable 
 results. 
 
 We have already said that Quesnay respected the King. 
 This respect was not unmingled with a certain terror. 
 
 One day that the King had been conversing with him 
 in the saloon of Madame de Pompadour, the doctor seemed 
 to be very uncomfortable. When the King had left, the 
 favourite said to him : " You seem to be embarrassed 
 before the King and yet he is so good!" 
 
 " Madam, " he answered, " I was forty years old when 
 I quitted my village, and I have but little experience of 
 the world, to which I accustom myself with difficulty. 
 When I am alone with the King, I say to myself; there 
 is a man who can have my head cut off, and the thought 
 troubles me." 
 
 * But ought you not to feel reassured by the justice and 
 goodness of the King? " 
 
 " That is very good as a reasoning, " said he ; " but 
 sentiment is quicker, and inspires me with fear before 
 I have had time to say to myself that which should 
 dispel it." * 
 
 * Madame du Hausset, Memoires. 
 
104 a:udi»u^ m)paU)^ of ^^movt). 
 
 He had at the same time an unmitigated admiration for 
 Louis XV, either when expressing approval of those who 
 spoke highly of him, such as Turgot and Duclos , or when 
 expressing his own judgment. 
 
 "Louis XIV, " said he, "loved poetry, and protected 
 poets; that may have been well in his time, because one 
 must begin somewhere; but this century will be far 
 greater; and it must be admitted that Louis XV sending 
 astronomers to Mexico and to Peru to measure the earth, 
 presents something more imposing than the arranging of 
 operas. He has opened the gates to philosophy, not- 
 withstanding the outcries of bigots, and the Encyclopaedia 
 will honour his reign." 
 
 Of a positive nature, strongly inclined to exact science. 
 Quesnay had but little taste for the beauties of poetry, 
 and expressed marked contempt for the protection granted 
 to poetry by the " Grand Roi. " 
 
 Being one day asked if he did not admire the great 
 poets : 
 
 " As I do the great players at cup and ball," answered 
 he, in that tone which rendered every thing jocose that 
 he said. " But I have myself made verses and I will 
 recite them to you. It is an epigram on a Mr. Rodot, an 
 intendant of the navy, who took pleasure in speaking ill 
 of physicians and of physic. I made these verses to 
 avenge ^Esculapius and Hippocrates : 
 
 " Antoine se medecina, 
 En decriant la medecine 
 Et de ses propres mains mina 
 Les fondenients de sa machine; 
 
qsom^rtboiiv')^ ^i)i}^%c\a\u 105 
 
 Ties rarement i\ opina 
 Sans humeur bizarre ou chagrine, 
 Et I'esprit qui le doniina, 
 I'']tait affich(5 sur sa mine. 
 
 Quesnay, the grave Quesnay, was not above trying to be a 
 wit, happily it was but seldom that he indulged himself in this 
 luxury. His conversation was usually of a more serious turn. 
 
 The first physican to the King being one day in the 
 salon of Madame de Pompadour, the conversation suddenly 
 turned upon madness and mad people. The King who was 
 much interested in everything connected with medical 
 science, was listening with attention. 
 
 " I will undertake to recognize the symptoms of mad- 
 ness six months beforehand," said Quesnay. 
 
 The King at once asked, if there were any persons at 
 Court liable to become mad? 
 
 And Quesnay promptly answered: "I know one who 
 will be an imbecile before three months are over." 
 
 Being pressed to mention the party, he for some time 
 refused, but at last allowed the name to escape him : " It 
 is Mr. de Sechelles, comptroller general. At his age he 
 wants still to do the gallant, and I have noticed that he 
 loses the connection of his ideas." 
 
 The King began to laugh; but three months later, he 
 came to Madame and said to her: "Sechelles has been 
 talking nonsense in full Council, it will be necessary to 
 find him a successor." 
 
 A little later, Quesnay foretold to the Keeper of the 
 privy Seal, Berrier, that he would have a fit of apoplexy, 
 which occurred four days later. 
 
 * 
 
106 (!:uti0n^ mjpaii)^ Df ^movi). 
 
 Quesnay as may be seen, diagnosed extremely well. 
 He could judge men at first sight, reading their very 
 souls, laying them bare, so to speak, without their know- 
 ledge. And then, with great happiness of expression with 
 a single word he would describe their character. 
 
 One day mention was made of "the curled and scented" 
 Minister Mr. de Choiseul. 
 
 " He is but a dandy, " said the Doctor, " and if he 
 were but better looking, would do well for a minion of 
 Henri HI." 
 
 Another time, the Count de Saint-Germain, who boasted 
 that he could transform little diamonds into big ones, 
 came to the Court to make some experiments. 
 
 "It is possible," said Quesnay, "that M. de Saint- 
 Germain may be able to fatten pearls, («) but he is 
 none the less a charlatan since he professes to make the 
 elixir of life, and gives out that he is several centuries old ! " 
 
 He never failed also to expose charlatans whenever 
 there was an opportunity. 
 
 A certain physician, named Renard, and he well justi- 
 fied his name, had prescribed for Madame de Pompadour^ 
 who suffered from violent palpitation of the heart, to 
 walk about her room, to lift weights and to walk fast. 
 " If the movement increases the palpitation," he said to her, 
 "it will prove that they proceed from the organ, otherwise 
 they proceed from the nerves." This singular treatment 
 having been brought to the knowledge of Quesnay : 
 
 "That is the conduct of a wise man," he simply an- 
 swered. 
 
 On one occasion the Queen, had recourse to the services 
 
 (a) Grossir des perles, to fatten pearls, is equivalent to drawing the 
 long bow, or telling a lie. (Transl.) 
 
^pom^iabowv*)^ qji^l^i^lciiim 107 
 
 of the King's physician, for "heart trouble," caused as 
 follows. 
 
 It was a year or fifteen months before she fell into 
 disfavour. Whilst at Fontainebleau, the Queen sat down 
 at a little desk, to write ; above it was suspended a por- 
 trait of the King. When she had finished her writing, 
 she closed the desk, the portrait fell down, and struck 
 her violently on the head. Quesnay was sent for, and 
 having had the accident explained to him he prescribed 
 bleeding and sedatives. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 The relations between the Doctor and the lady of the 
 chamber of Mme. de Pompadour seem to have been close ; 
 but nothing goes to prove that there was anything 
 between them other than a sincere friendship, at the 
 utmost a Platonic attachment. 
 
 Madame du Hausset does not deny that the Doctor 
 inspired her with sympathy. She assisted at his suppers 
 and used often to converse with him here and there. 
 In several places in her book she declares that "he had 
 wit," that "he was very merry," and that she used to 
 consult him "as an oracle," but we cannot see anywhere 
 the shadow of anything compromising. 
 
 She also says that he * was a great genius ; " but she 
 added, "all the world says so." 
 
 He liked to converse with her about the country, and 
 having been brought up there, he used to get her to talk 
 to him about the pastures of Normandy, of Poitou, about 
 the rich apple-orchards, and the best means of cultivation. 
 
 She admits again that at Court " he was far less occupied 
 
108 (^uvxoxi^ mjpatf)^ of ^m0x% 
 
 with what was going on there, than with the best manner 
 of cultivating the land." Her confidences however end 
 here. 
 
 Quesnay was too much absorbed by his passion for 
 study to allow himself to be diverted from it by trifles. 
 
 Work was necessary to a man of his active disposition. 
 
 During the month which preceded his death, he wrote 
 three pamphlets on subjects of political economy, which 
 caused a man of high position to say that he had a head 
 of thirty years on a body of eighty. 
 
 At the age of 70, he betook himself with ardour to the 
 study of mathematics, and, notwithstanding the supplica- 
 tions of his friends, published his pretended discovery of 
 the squaring of the circle. 
 
 He wrote also on theology. But at any rate he had 
 the good sense to consult on the subject with Father 
 Desmarets, the King's confessor, who gave him useful 
 indications. 
 
 His Tableau economique gives a better measure of his 
 talent. It was published at Versailles, by express order 
 of the King, together with, his Extract of the royal economies 
 of Sully ; and His Majesty insisted on striking off a few 
 copies himself. But they were so carefully concealed, 
 that even during his lifetime, and shortly after their pub- 
 lication, as Mirabeau has stated, it was impossible to 
 discover a single copy. 
 
After an existence so well employed, he was 80 years 
 of age when he came to the end of his long and well- 
 employed existence, Quesnay was in no way alarmed at 
 the approach of death. 
 
 Overcome by age and infirmities, * he quitted this life, 
 according to the words of an ancient poet, as though he 
 quitted a banquet, without disgust, but without regret, 
 with all the tranquility of a sage. 
 
 As his servant was shedding bitter tears: 
 
 "Console yourself," said he gently to him, "I was not 
 born to live for ever. Look at this portrait before me ; 
 read below it the year of my birth, and judge whether I 
 have not lived long enough ..." 
 
 He did not guess, at this supreme moment, this too 
 modest great man, that his last journey would lead him 
 to the portals of immortality. * 
 
 * Trom the age of 20, he was gouty, which induced him to give up 
 surgery and take to medicine. 
 
 * The statue of Quesnay was inaugurated at M^r^, near Montfort- 
 L'Amaury, in 1896. 
 
THE INFIRMITIES 
 
 OF 
 
 SOPHIE AENOULD. 
 
^eauti) i^ hut a tiatii nub boubtful goob, 
 5t sljiiiing gloSs t\)ai ftibctfj subbcnhj; 
 3( ^omt tf)at bic0 w^cn first it 'oins to hib; 
 3t brittle fllass, t^at'g kofcii :|jrc§cntlt) ; 
 5t boufttful pob, a qIos^, a glass, a ftotucr, 
 Sost, fabeb, hxoftn, bcab loitljin an l^our. 
 ?lttb a§ goobs lost arc sclb or ncbcr fouiib, 
 5ls fcbeb gloss no rubHng loilt refresh, 
 5lS flowers bcab lie ioit^ereb on t^c grounb, 
 3ts Brofen glasS no cement can rebrc^s, 
 So Beauty blemistjcb once, for eocr's lost, 
 Sn s^itc of ^^5§ic, liainting, ^ain anb cost. 
 
 The Passionate Pilgrim. 
 
 Duke. 3Comcn arc aS voM, ioljose fair flottJcr 
 ^cing once bis))lai)eb, bot^ fall if)ai bcrt) ^our. 
 Vio. 5tnb so tljci) are: alaS, tljat t^et) are §o;— 
 2^0 bie, eben U)^en t^ei) to ^jcrfection grom! 
 
 Twelfth Night, II, 4. 
 
THE INFIRMITIES OF SOPHIE ARNOULD. 
 
 HAT amusing gleanings may be picked up with 
 the aid of chance, or Providence, in the catalogues 
 of autographs ! 
 
 Such catalogues are indeed sometimes an historical epitome, 
 and of true history, because the personages come before 
 us in undress and without the slightest disguise. 
 
 No doubt such documents are often dry, on account of 
 their intentional brevity, but those who know how to read 
 between the lines, can give them life, and they may then 
 become the source of most unexpected consequences. 
 
 Thus it was, that a few days since, we chanced upon 
 one of the said catalogues. In which, in two lines, there 
 was advertised for sale a letter from Sophie Arnould, the 
 divine songstress, to Belanger the architect, whom she 
 used in the freedom of intimacy, to call her "Bel-ange.^ 
 
 Belanger had quite succeeded in gaining the good graces 
 of Sophie. He was indeed much more and better than her 
 lover, he was at all times her faithful body-guard. 
 
 Belanger was however something more than an architect, 
 he was a man of wit, and in such matter, to be able to 
 
 118 8 
 
114 a;tttiott$ m)^aif)^ of ^movi). 
 
 cope with Sophie Arnould, required wit indeed, and that 
 of the best. 
 
 But poor Sophie, alas! was not always in a joking humour, 
 and, notwithstanding her mad thoughtlessness, she had 
 often cause to shed bitter tears. Disease, in fact, paid 
 her frequent visits, confining her to her bed, and in such 
 doleful moments, her thoughts reverted to her friend, the 
 confidant of her sorrows, and she summoned him to her 
 bed-side. " How on earth is it possible, 'wow bel ange\ 
 the best and oldest of my friends, that I should be ill, as 
 I have been so seriously and dangerously, for over four 
 months, without having any news of you, without receiving 
 from you the slightest token of sympathy, of friendship ! 
 I could never have believed it, were it not for my sad 
 experience." 
 
 Her eldest son had brought to see her a practitioner 
 from Paris, but she preferred her village doctor, a genuine 
 Sganarelle, always singing ^Bottle, my darling,^ from which 
 he seldom parted...." But that mattered little, for he 
 managed to set her on her legs again. 
 
 He was a great * botanist" and employed only simples 
 for her cure. 
 
 It was alas! but a reprieve. 
 
 A little later on, Sophie will write again to her habitual 
 correspondent. Yes, indeed, she has been very lad during 
 fifty-three days . . . . " but particulary for tJiirty-fice, during 
 which she was at the last gasp .... however, petit bon- 
 homme vii encore." 
 
 Now begins the chastening of this charming but sinful 
 
^ fait* g^lolticr frtbcb. 115 
 
 woman, who will have to undergo a thousand agonies 
 before inevitable Fate shall sever the thread of her ex- 
 istence. 
 
 " From the age of thirty- three to that of forty she was 
 obliged to have recourse but only moderately, to the mineral 
 waters of Bareges and of Bagneres, which it was neces- 
 sary to bring from the distant Pyrenees. Except the waters 
 of Bareges, these baths served only to relax the fibres and 
 to swell the vessels of a certain part, which should not be 
 tormented by any excess. The regimen imposed on her 
 was to avoid spiced dishes and things of that nature and, 
 to walk a great deal. Never to be bled except by leeches ! 
 and then only when indispensable." 
 
 In spite of this severe regimen, which she herself re- 
 commended; but was careful not to observe, Sophie is a 
 continual martyr to pain. As she so nicely says, her 
 health is always so dolorous. " The learned Esculapians 
 Pelletan of the Hotel-Dieu and Boyer of the Charite" have 
 visited her and are not at all devoid of uneasiness. 
 
 The fact is that Sophie has a scirrhus tumour of the 
 rectum the result of a fall, since which the symptoms have 
 daily become more serious. 
 
 One day, there was a medical consultation, and each 
 doctor in his turn had to view the secret seat of the evil. 
 It was then that the talented actress is said to have 
 sorrowfully murmured: "I am now obliged to pay for 
 showing that which formerly ..." 
 
 Formerly indeed, she cared so little to show it, that 
 she found nothing better (to combat certain injurious sus- 
 
116 (Ittdott^ S3l)i>atp of ^moti). 
 
 picions of a lover who accused her of having contaminated 
 him), than to get from the surgeon Morand the following 
 most explicitly indiscreet certificate : " I certify that I 
 have very scrupulously examined Mdlle Arnould, and that 
 I have found upon her no mark or symptom whatever of 
 venereal disease. Paris, this 10th December, one thousand 
 seven hundred and sixty two. Morand." 
 
 She has now something else to do than to reply to 
 calumny. 
 
 Now, her health begins to be her dominant care; it is 
 so terribly shattered that she can but seldom find time 
 to laugh at her sorry fate. 
 
 But let things but brighten up a little, and that her 
 " scirrhus disgorge some of its humour," she becomes 
 again the joyous Sophie whose witty jests are the joy of 
 all Paris. After all, was not perhaps incontinence the root 
 of her evil? 
 
 But soon the smile freezes upon her lips, and her tor- 
 ments begin again. She however still looks forward to 
 better days. " That worthy iEsculapius, Boyer, who has 
 visited the place with eye and finger, is pretty well 
 satisfied, as is likewise Doctor Michel." When she says 
 to the latter that she still has some rather sharp pains, 
 he replies " that it must be so ... " Therefore bene sit . . . 
 However there is a temporary improvement. " The tumour 
 is sensibly diminishing ; although it is far from being ready 
 to disappear." 
 
 It was indeed so considerable that " the satisfactory 
 operation produced by the remedies " seems to her almost 
 
n fait? ^iot^ct fobeb* 117 
 
 a miracle. She was then taking 72 grains of extract 
 of hemlock, without counting " lotions, fumigations and 
 injections, three or four times a day," according as the 
 pains may render them necessary. 
 
 Add to that * the purgative required to be taken as 
 brooms to sweep away the filth from inside the body." 
 
 How sad must be the look she casts into the past, 
 when her thoughts revert to the time when she was made 
 much of, idolized by all Paris, when the greatest wits as 
 well as the most learned men were all disputing for her 
 favours. 
 
 If her lap-dog fell sick, it was quite an event. 
 
 And she took good care not to confide poor doggie's 
 health to Lionnois, the veterinary surgeon in vogue, but 
 to the illustrious magnetizer Mesmer, who in three or four 
 passes sent doggie off ad patres. 
 
 This at once gave rise to the following verses which 
 went the round of the capital : 
 
 Le magnetisme est aux abois « 
 
 La Faculte, V Acaddmie 
 
 L'ont condamnS tout d'tme voix, 
 
 Et mSme convert d'infamie. 
 
 Aprks ce jugement blen sage et bien Ugal, 
 
 Si quelque esprit original 
 
 Persiste encore dans son delire, 
 
 H sera permis de liii dire : 
 
 Crois ail magnetisme . . . animal ! [a) 
 
 (a) The following is an attempted translation of the above, unfor- 
 tunately the joke in the last line cannot be rendered into English. 
 
118 (^uv\0n^ ^i}paU)^ of ^i^toti)* 
 
 Notwithstanding her acquaintance with the charlatan 
 Mesmer, Sophie was none the less on the best terms 
 with the Faculty, and even with the Royal Academy of 
 Surgery. 
 
 She was disputed and contended for, as de Goncourt 
 says in his very curious monograph. * And at the dinner, 
 known by the name of the Dominical, where every Sunday 
 around the table of the celebrated surgeon Louis, were 
 gathered the members of the Caveau ; {n) into this temple 
 of wit and song, amongst Vade, of Crebillon fils, of Barre, 
 of Coqueley de Chaussepierre, only one woman was ad- 
 mitted, Sophie Arnould. 
 
 But now evil days have come upon her, the invalid is 
 condemned to remain a great part of the day sitting 
 motionless on a chair, when it is not indeed a close- 
 stool ! 
 
 Magnetism has gone to decay, 
 Since all the Academy big-wigs swore, 
 . In a quite unanimous solemn way, 
 
 That it was a swindle and nothing more. 
 
 After this judgment — sage, or blind, 
 
 If some man of original mind 
 
 Still persists in his foolish creed, 
 
 He may divert the dilemma, indeed 
 
 By asserting it's only the " animal " kind. 
 
 * E. & J. de Goncourt, Sophie Arnould, p. 51. 
 
 (a) An assemblage of the choicest and merriest spirits who used to 
 meet to "eat, drink and be merry." After dinner original witty songs 
 were sung, often severely criticizing and castigating the political abuses 
 of the day. {Transl.) 
 
2t faiv ^iowcv fdbetJ. 119 
 
 " There one must remain sitting on one's rump like an 
 old monkey. " Or move about " with the elegance and 
 quickness of a tortoise ; so that one is reduced to gaze at 
 the people passing by and get weary of doing nothing . . . 
 What is to be done ? Suffer and then die ? A fine con- 
 clusion ! . . . " 
 
 If she is " too old for love, " is she not still " too young 
 to die ? " If she could only escape to the country ! 
 
 But the doctors have ordered it otherwise. They say 
 that she is not yet in a condition to support without great 
 inconvenience the jolting of a coach, particularly of a 
 public conveyance. 
 
 And again her son Constant "Our hussar," has an- 
 nounced that he will soon arrive in Paris ; and she is 
 obliged to give him a good welcome. But where is she 
 to lodge him? She does not know where to put him to 
 sleep. He is no longer little enough to share her bed, 
 " not that anything good or bad would come of it, but the 
 world, dear Agnes, is so strange ! " 
 
 The evil, in spite of all, continues its havoc. Sophie 
 again suffers fiendish torment, although the doctors are 
 charmed with the results of the treatment. " But they 
 are singing victory, whilst she is crying for woe ! " 
 
 The unfortunate woman is dying and has now but two 
 months to live. She is dying deprived of the comfort 
 which her poverty prevents her from procuring. 
 
 . . . She is dying because she cannot procure the 
 proper remedies to alleviate her sufferings ! * 
 
 * Ad. Lance, Dictionnaire des Architectes frangals, Article on Bel- 
 anger. 
 
120 ^xtvxon^ fBt)patf)§ of ^movi). 
 
 On the 22nd October 1802, talent; charm, wit and 
 seduction, all had passed away. 
 
 In a few diy sentences the papers of the day recorded 
 the death of this Magdalen, whom the representative of 
 God here below * had pardoned, because she had loved too 
 well. 
 
 * Sophie Arnould was buried in the Montraartre cemetery. The 
 cur^ of Saint- Germain-l'Auxerrois received her last breath. The only 
 biography in English of this famous Frenchwoman is that by Mr. 
 Robert B. Douglas, who has published a fascinating account of her 
 career, under the title : " Sophie Arnould, Actress and Wit. " 
 
 This work contains seven charming copper-plates etched by Adolphe 
 Lalauze, {Carrington Paris) 1898. 
 
 There is no occasion for us to quote the sallies of Sophie Arnould. 
 It is well known how caustic or simply mischievous she could be at 
 times. We will merely recall, because it enters into the order of this 
 study, the cruel joke she made at the expense of La Harpe, who was 
 afflicted with a shameful leprosy ? (syphilis or eczema), " that is all 
 he has of the ancients " was the rather wicked remark of Sophie. 
 
 The critic hardly forgave the insult. 
 
WAS 6UILL0TIN THE INVENTOR 
 
 THE GODFATHER OF THE GUILLOTINE? 
 
^m, mucrtc, tan cScoubtba, 
 Que no k §ienta Dcntr, 
 ^orquc cl placer bcl mortr 
 ^U mt Bucltia a bar la Diba. 
 
 ESCRIVA. 
 
 "fe*jjmc ^cat^, but c^mtlr} come anb §till;— 
 5t(l sonnb of tfjine approach restrain, 
 Sest jot) of tfjee mi) ^eart Sfjonlb fin 
 5(nb turn it bacf to life aaain." 
 
WAS GUILLOTIN THE INVENTOR OR THE GOD- 
 FATHER OF THE GUILLOTINE? 
 
 LL has not yet ever been said on a subject which, 
 at first sight, and to superficial minds, would 
 seem to have been exhausted. But on pushing our enquiries 
 further, we made fresh discoveries which amply rewarded 
 us for our trouble. 
 
 We at first despaired of being able to write an article, 
 after so many other authors, on Guillotin and the Guil- 
 lotine. 
 
 On Guillotin? But all the biographical dictionaries and 
 publications which pretend to be well informed give whole 
 columns of closely printed text on the subject. How resist 
 the temptation of playing the easy and humble part of a 
 plagiarist? How many of these second-hand pundits are 
 there not to encourage us to conform to their example? 
 
 Well, whatever may be the result, we will not follow 
 their perfidious advice, but boldly endeavour to compose 
 a new variation on an old tune. 
 
 * * 
 
 123 
 
124 ^uvi0%t^ mjpati}^ of #i<gtotlj* 
 
 Was it a calumny on Guillotin to attribute an invention 
 to him which others might more justly claim? Did he 
 take but slight part in it, as some have insinuated? 
 
 Without repeating here the history of the guillotine, * 
 let us recall briefly the real part played by Guillotin. 
 
 Until 1789, capital punishment was effected in various 
 ways. The stake, drowning, the gibbet, different modes 
 of torture, mutilation, were inflicted on unfortunate beings, 
 guilty in most cases of insignificant offences. It was from 
 an essentially humane principle that Guillotin proposed to 
 substitute for such barbarous methods one more prompt 
 and less cruel. 
 
 On the 10th October 1789, Guillotin proposed that "offences 
 of the same nature shall be punished by the same kind of 
 penalty, no matter the rank and condition of the culprit. " 
 
 On the 1st December he mounted the tribune in the 
 assembly, and drawing a moving and vivid picture of the 
 fearful punishments that were then in force, and which 
 dishonoured humanity; the gibbet, the wheel, the stake, 
 etc., he concluded " that in every case where the law 
 should pronounce the pain of death against a criminal, the 
 punishment shall be the same, no matter the nature of the 
 crime he may have committed." He added, "the criminal 
 shall be decapitated, and that by means of a simple mechanism. " 
 
 He went so far as to give a description of the machine 
 before his colleagues. 
 
 Forgetting for an instant that he was a legislator, f in 
 
 * Vide, Curtosites litteraires de Waree, pp. 13 & 382 ; Curiositis des 
 Traditions, p. 300 and sequitur ; the works of Chereau, of L. Du Bois 
 and of Dubois d' Amiens on the guillotine ; Le Vieux-neuf of Ed. Four- 
 nier, t. I, p. 318. note, etc. 
 
 t Journal des Etats-genvraux, t. IV, p. 235; 1789 in 8vo. 
 
Xtmn\)idbU ^vcaim^^* 125 
 
 the heat of his oratory he permitted the following phrase 
 to escape him^ the terms of which went beyond his thought: 
 " the mechanism falls like lightning, the head flies, the 
 man is no more." 
 
 The assembly, while approving in principle the motion 
 of Guillotin, adjourned the question of deciding upon the 
 mode of execution to be inflicted on criminals condemned 
 to death: Guillotin succeeded only in obtaining that 
 nobles or peasants, etc., should be punished in the same 
 manner. 
 
 It was not until the 3rd of June 1791, that is to say 
 twenty months after Guillotin's first speech, that Lepelletier 
 de Saint-Fargeau got the assembly to vote that " every 
 culprit condemned to death should be decapitated." 
 
 There remained but to have a machine made, sufficiently 
 expeditious to spare the criminals who would first have 
 to try it all unnecessary suffering. 
 
 The National Assembly, taken by surprise, thought to 
 get out of the difficulty by applying to the perpetual secre- 
 tary of the Academy of Surgery, Antoine Louis, already 
 known for his highly valuable scientific labours. Louis 
 hastened to draw up "a report upon beheading." This 
 report, adopted without discussion, was published in the 
 Moniteur of 20th March 1792. * 
 
 The only thing now to be done was to have the machine 
 constructed. An active correspondence on the subject was 
 carried on between Louis, Roederer, the procurator-syndic 
 
 * In part only. Vide. Union medicale, 1870, t. X, pp. 132 and 134 
 and Revue des documents hhtoriques, 3rd year, pp. 47 and 48. 
 
126 ^mt0Xi^ ^i)pam ^f ^i^tot?!)* 
 
 of the Department of Paris, and Claviere, the Minister of 
 public taxes. Guillotin was consulted merely for the sake 
 of form. * In reality it was Louis who directed everything. 
 
 He first of all requested the State carpenters to send 
 in a specification f of the cost of constructing the new 
 apparatus; but in view of the exaggerated demands of 
 "master carpenter Guedon," who asked not less than 
 5,660 livres for the " first machine, " § on account, as he 
 alleged, principally of "the difficulty of finding workmen 
 to execute a work which shocks their principles," Claviere 
 and Roederer decided to dispense with his services. 
 
 Louis then addressed himself to " another artist, " of 
 German origin, a manufacturer of pianos named Tobias 
 Schmidt, whom he recommended to the Directoire. ** 
 
 On the 17th April 1792, at ten o'clock in the morning, 
 the first trials of the machine now finally constructed, 
 were made in the amphitheatre or rather in a small ad- 
 joining court of the hospital of Bicetre, in presence of the 
 chief officials of the establishment, of Doctors Philippe 
 Pinel and Cabanis, the friend of Mirabeau ; of Doctors 
 Louis, Cullerier and Guillotin ; of the Procurator-Syndic 
 of the commune ; of a crowd of notabilities of the national 
 assembly, the members of the committee on hospitals, etc. ff 
 
 * Union medicate, toe. cit., p. 214. 
 t rbid., 215, 216. 
 
 § Ibid., 217. 
 
 ** Revue des Doc. hist., toe. cit., 48 and 49. 
 
 tt On this subject here is a letter written by Doctor Louis to Dr. 
 Michel Cullerier, at that time surgeon to the General Hospital : 
 
 * Dear Sir, The mechanic employed to construct the machine for 
 decapitating, will not be ready to experiment with it until Tuesday. 
 I have written to the Procurator General Syndic, requesting him to 
 give orders to the person who will have to operate in public, to be 
 
Unmi}%a\>U i^vcaim^^. 127 
 
 The executioner Sanson and his assistants laid down a 
 dead body between the two supports of the machine, the 
 face downwards. At a signal given by one of his work- 
 men, Sanson pressed upon the button which held the cord. 
 The knife, heavily weighted, slid swiftly down between 
 the grooves and severed the head from the body, as Cabanis 
 himself said, "with the rapidity of a glance." The bones 
 were cleanly severed. Two other similar trials, which 
 followed succeeded equally well. * 
 
 at the place chosen for the experiment at two o'clock next Tuesday. 
 I have informed the Director of the zeal you have shown in aiding 
 in the accomplishment of the general wish in this sad matter. There- 
 fore until Tuesday. 
 
 " In order to ensure the efficacy of the fall of the blade or axe, the 
 machine must be fourteen feet in height. From that you will be able 
 to judge whether the experiment can be made in the amphitheatre or 
 in the little adjoining court. 
 
 ''I remain, etc, .... * Louis." 
 
 (A. Husson, Etudes sur lei^ Hupitauic.) 
 
 * Paul Bru, Histoire de Bicetre, p. 87. 
 
 We think it worth while to relate the following anecdote, of which, 
 however, we cannot guarantee the authenticity. 
 
 While the spectators Avere congratulating the two doctors whose 
 invention would make capital punishment more expeditious and less 
 painful, old Sanson (the executioner), alone, his gaze rivetted on the 
 corpse from which the head had been so swiftly separated, without 
 further effort on his part than pressing a knob, muttered sadly : " A 
 fine invention indeed! provided that no abuse is made of the facil- 
 ity! " . . . The spectators quitted the place and hastened to give an 
 account of the new invention, some of them to the National Assembly, 
 others throughout the city. As for the prisoners at Bicetre, they eyed 
 each other as they got down from the window-ledges where they 
 had climbed to behold the sight. 
 
 "That," said one, "is the famous plan for equality. All the 
 world to die the same death. 
 
128 0^tttiott^ mjpam of ^i^totl). 
 
 On the 25th April 1792, a murderer and robber named 
 Pelletier, was beheaded by the new axe. * 
 
 * 
 
 * * 
 
 The question has been often mooted, who was the god- 
 father of the guillotine, and Guillotin has always been 
 named. 
 
 The following may have given some credence to this 
 opinion. 
 
 The Journal de Perlet, of 20th March 1792, says ex- 
 pressly : * The legislative committee has caused a decree 
 to be adopted regulating the mode of decapitation of 
 criminals condemned to death. It was adopted without 
 being read or discussed. This decree is nothing but a 
 proposal of M. Louis, perpetual secretary of the Academy 
 of Surgery, who suggests, for the execution of this article 
 of the penal code, a machine similar to that ichich the 
 inventor had christened the guillotine.^ 
 
 On the other hand, one can read in the journal Les 
 Actes des Apotres: f 
 
 " There was a considerable difficulty in finding a name 
 for this instrument. Is the language to be enriched by 
 the name of its inventor ? Those who are of that opinion 
 found no difficulty in giving it the gentle and smoothly 
 flowing name of guillotine." 
 
 Other appellations had been proposed for this instrument 
 
 "Yes," said one of the wits of the prison, "it's a levelling 
 measure ! * 
 
 (Hisfoire anecdotique des priso}is de V Europe by Alboize and A. 
 Maquet.) 
 
 * Chronique de Paris, no. 118, 26 April 1192. 
 
 t No. X. 
 
ltncttUtal»(e ®veatue-§§» 129 
 
 ol execution : the mirabelle, the Louison or Loiihefte (o), 
 but the word guillotine was finally chosen. 
 
 According to one version, it was while assisting, several 
 years before the Revolution, at the performance of n 
 pantomino of the Quatre fils Aymon, at a theatre on the 
 Boulevards, that the first idea of the instrument presented 
 itself to Dr. Guillotin. * It is more probable that he found 
 the model in certain authors of the XVIth century, who 
 have given a detailed description of it. f 
 
 There is not the least doubt that Guillotin had precursors. 
 But another point which is equally beyond dispute is that 
 he was the first to propose and to obtain the adoption of 
 the principle of a decapitating machine. 
 
 Whether he himself gave the name or bequeathed it to 
 the instrument, he certainly could not, were he to return 
 to this world, disclaim its paternity. 
 
 (a) In allusion no doubt to Dr. Louis. {Tr.) 
 
 * Saint-Edme, Biographie de la Police, 1829, in 8vo. p. 253. 
 
 t Union medicale loc. cit. pp. 369 — 372; Bulletin de VAllictnce deft 
 A)'t.o, 25 Fev. 1844, 261; Ibid. 10 Dec. 1846, 202; Miiftee unirerftel 
 1872-73, i. I, p. 179; 1873, t. II, p. 118; etc., etc. 
 
THE REAL 
 
 CHARLOTTE CORDDAY. 
 
 TIER PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 
 
%i), since t^c l^uturc'g 9tibblcs none can pc§s, 
 C^omc fiU tfje (S\i)f, ti)t (5up t^at broiniis 2)i5tre§§, 
 5Uj, gotJe, ijoti "^JlooM will often rise again, 
 26iU ri^e anb mi§^ ns in .^er loneliness. 
 
 SBcfore u§ ttoain were mant) 9iiofjts anb ^ai)s, 
 
 2l)c Stars (jaDe long ))nrsneb tfjcir .C)eauenli) ways,— 
 
 a3nt treab luit^ Sigfjtest ivoot npon t^is I^nst, 
 
 ^ tons once an t^ye U)ai bcanieb loitt) fiouing 9Jai)S. 
 
 Omar Khayyam 
 
THE REAL CHARLOTTE CORDAY. 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 L Her personal appearance. 
 
 AiNTERs and poets are always to be consulted 
 with a certain amount of distrust: they often 
 sacrifice to art too much historical truth. What individ- 
 ual has ever so greatly tempted the brush of the painter 
 and the pen of the historian as Charlotte Corday? Who 
 has transmitted her features to us without idealizing or 
 deforming them ? Even after the lapse of a century new 
 controversies spring up: it is as difficult to agree about 
 her personal appearance as it is about the motive and the 
 moral of the act she committed. Was it crime or sublime 
 folly? On this point again the case is far from being 
 finally judged. * 
 
 * The following is the appreciation formed of her by Mr. A. Casimir- 
 Perrier, whose well-poised judgment is known, in a remarkable article 
 on Charlotte Corday, published in the Revue des Deux Mondes (1862) : 
 
 " Her name will pass down to future ages with the remembrance of 
 an act for which the crimes of the victim afford no excuse. Never 
 can any cause however just, however innocent of all complicity it may 
 
 133 
 
184 (lutiou^ m)pam of ^moti). 
 
 At any rate the world is agreed that the appearance of 
 Charlotte Corday was rather charming than otherwise, and 
 that her features were most prepossessing. 
 
 There can be no doubt on that score if we are to 
 credit only those who were her contemporaries, who 
 had opportunities to see her often. They concur in por- 
 traying to us " her oval countenance, her eye so blue 
 and penetrating ; a well formed nose, a lovely mouth with 
 pearly teeth, auburn hair; hands and arms worthy to 
 serve as models. " Others go further, and tell us that 
 " her complexion had the transparency of milk, the carna- 
 tion of the rose and the downy softness of the peach. 
 The tissue of her skin was of rare delicacy; one seemed 
 to see the blood circulating beneath the petal of a lily. 
 She blushed with extreme facility and was then indeed 
 most bewitching. Her eyes, slightly veiled, were well 
 formed and very handsome; her chin, just a little promi- 
 nent, did not mar a charming ensemble full of grace. 
 The expression of this lovely face was of indefinable 
 sweetness, as was also the sound of her voice." 
 
 Her voice had a particularly agreeable tone. * " Never 
 was there heard a more harmonious and enchanting voice ; 
 never was there seen a glance more angelic and pure, a 
 more winning smile. Her light auburn hair was admirably 
 suited to her features ; she was indeed, a superb woman. ' 
 
 Quite different does she appear to us in a passage from 
 
 be, see its defenders take to the poniard without a great prejudice to 
 those inflexible principles of public morality which it is the prime 
 duty and supreme interest of honest men of all parties to respect 
 and defend." 
 
 * " Her voice, like a child's," writes Mr" de Sej^ur (Les femmes, t. Ill), 
 " was always in harmony with the simplicity of her appearance and 
 the imperturbable serenity of her features." 
 
£)m of (^0t>'^ m%(^cU. 135 
 
 a demagogic paper of the period, in which she is described 
 as follows : " This woman, often said to be pretty, was 
 not so in reality ; she was a virago more fleshy than fresh, 
 without grace, and dirty, as female philosophers and wits 
 almost always are. Her face was hard, insolent, erysipel- 
 atous and ruddy . . ." 
 
 However much our sympathy may be enrolled on her 
 side, this last detail is not without importance, coupled 
 with the testimony of an octogenarian who had known 
 Charlotte, found in a pencil note among the papers of 
 Mr. George Mancel, formerly librarian at Caen : * 
 
 * A woman of the name of Bertaut, condemned to death in 1812 for 
 participation in the Montaigu riots and pardoned, whilst giving details 
 of this event to Mr. George Mancel, librarian of the city of Caen, was 
 led to speak of Charlotte Corday. 
 
 Her words were taken down textually by Mr. Mancel and recorded 
 in his note-book, on the 10th May 1852. 
 
 This woman was then 76 years old. She related as follows: 
 
 " Charlotte or Mademoiselle de Corday, novice (sic) at the Abbaye 
 aux Dames, was the first to teach me how to handle the bobbins for 
 making lace, when I was six years old; she was marked with the 
 small pox; rather tall than otherwise, and not handsome, but she had 
 a gentle air, so gentle that one already loved her before she spoke; 
 she was one of God's angels." (Unpuhlished papers of Vatel.) 
 
 To this testimony may be added the following extract from a much 
 esteemed work: 
 
 " An aged nun (of the Abbey of the Holy Trinity at Caen), who is 
 still living (1849), who knew Charlotte Corday, relates that she at 
 first attached herself with great fervour to religion; but she already 
 gave evidence of a certain amount of pride and of obstinacy which 
 caused her to be reprimanded. 
 
 " She learned in the convent to read, to do embroidery, to draw, in 
 which last accomplishment she attained much skill ; and later, Charlotte 
 could draw very well." (Lairtnllier, Les femmes celebres de la Revo- 
 lution, I, 158.) 
 
136 ©ttviou)^ mjpait)^ of A>i)^toil). 
 
 "Mdlle. do Corday was pitted with the small-pox, rather 
 tall than short and 7iot handsome, but she had a gentle 
 manner ; so gentle that before she opened her mouth, one 
 already loved her: she was one of God's angels!" * 
 
 These contradictions would not fail to be somewhat 
 disconcerting to our judgment had we not more convinc- 
 ing documents to go upon. If we are to believe one of 
 the most truthful biographers of Charlotte Corday, who 
 published his book at a time when there were many people 
 still living who had known the young girl, it appears 
 beyond doubt that she was irresistibly charming. 
 
 " All the historians of Charlotte Corday, " writes Mr. de 
 Monteyremar, " are agreed as to the beauty of the young 
 girl, on the hue of her blue and penetrating eyes, on the 
 perfect form of her nose and mouth, on the regularity of 
 her features, gentle but serious, on her graceful appear- 
 ance, but they differ about her height, which according 
 to. some was short, while others say that she was tall. 
 
 * * The name of Corday was much venerated iu the country, I 
 noticed in my numerous excursions round about the castle. 
 
 "Mme. Jules de Corday informed me that it amounted to a sort of 
 superstition in the district. 
 
 " Mme. de Corday was a Mauvers. 
 
 " Her mother was herself a Chezot, and the Chezots descended from 
 the Bailleuls, descendants of the Scottish King. 
 
 "Now, it is a well known {.opular prejudice that Kings had the 
 privilege of curing by touch the King's evil: therefore sick persons 
 used to come to get touched by Mme. de Mauvers and her sister. 
 Children afflicted with mesanteric atrophy were also brought to be 
 touched." lExtract from an unpublished letter of Ch. Vatel.) 
 
£)m of i^ot>'^ 5ttt(|d§. 137 
 
 According to Mr. Hauer, Charlotte Corday was tall, and 
 rather robust looking. 
 
 With regard to the colour of her hair, there can no 
 longer be any doubt whatever * she was fair." 
 
 Concerning the height, f of Charlotte Corday, her pass- 
 
 * The proof that doubts were possible, is that even some of the 
 contemporaries of Charlotte who had themselves seen her could not 
 agree on this point. 
 
 " I remember one day," writes Mr. Ratisbonne in the Debats, " arriving 
 at the editorial office of the paper in the midst of a stormy debate, 
 the vivacity of which i-ather astonished nie, but which I was careful 
 not to interrupt. It was as to whether she had been blonde, or chest- 
 nut. The two disputants were Mr. Barriere and the venerable Mr. 
 Delecluze. She was Charlotte Corday, whom both remembered to have 
 seen in Paris, in their infanei/.'" 
 
 See also the Figaro of 24th August 1868. 
 
 t The Marquise de Saint.-Leonard, nh de F., aged 87 years, wrote 
 to Vatel on the 11th October 1862, as follows: 
 
 " Mdlle. de Corday was tall, without however surpassing middle height ; 
 she was plump without excess ; she was dark and resembled the me- 
 dallion which is here. She held herself badly. Avith her head bent down, 
 which made her seem to look from underneath her eyebrows. My 
 father was constantly saying to her, 'Cousin, your chin will stick to 
 your breast ! Do show us your eyes, they are handsome enough for that.' " 
 
 Found among the papers of Vatel was another letter, from which 
 we detach the following post-scriptum, which confirms what we have 
 said about Ch. Corday being rather tall than otherwise. 
 
 " P.S. — Charlotte Corday was a very fine woman of about 5 feet 2 
 inches, old measurement, in height ; (a) she was rather pale in the face. 
 
 "There are a great many portraits of her; but Mdlle. Augustine de 
 Corday, owner of the Chateau do Glatigny, a relation of Charlotte, 
 who knew the original, has never seen an exact portrait of our 
 heroine." 
 
 (a) o feet 6 inches modern English measure. {Transl.) 
 
138 iS^nvlon^ 25l)»>atp of ^movi). 
 
 port will at once authentically enlighten us. It is as 
 follows : 
 
 " Let pass freely the citizeness Marie * Corday, born at 
 Mesnll- Imbert, residing at Caen, district of Caen, department 
 of Calvados, aged twenty-four years, height fire feet and 
 one inch (p ft., 6 in. English), hair and eyebrows auburn, 
 eyes grey, forehead high, nose long, mouth medium size, 
 chin round, double pointed, face oval; etc.'' 
 
 This official document, notwithstanding its laconicism, 
 is absolutely exact. There is no possibility of there 
 being any mistake as to height; it is a measurement 
 obtained with mathematical exactness. 
 
 With regard to the colour of her hair, we must again 
 rely upon this official document, although in this respect 
 it is necessary to give some explanations. 
 
 We must here again have recourse to Mr. de Montey- 
 remar. " It was at the tribunal that Hauer sketched the 
 portrait of Charlotte Corday. It was during the trial and 
 not in the prison that the accused maiden, during a 
 momentary interruption of the trial, cut off a lock of her 
 hair and offered it to the painter, who was far more troubled 
 and affected than she was herself, saying : " I know not, 
 Sir, how to thank you for the deep sympathy you seem 
 to feel for me and for the care you have taken in tracing 
 my portrait. This is all that I can offer you, please 
 take and preserve it as a souvenir." 
 
 * Her real baptismal name was Marie. 
 
S)m of ©0b*^ 2l«oe(§* 139 
 
 In Bauer's portrait Charlotte Corday is represented 
 with fair hair. * 
 
 VYe may further notice the following detail : The 
 painter Hauer had given a clergyman of his acquaintance, 
 the Abbe Dinome, then vicar of the cathedral of Blois, a 
 portion of the lock of hair which had been given to him 
 by Charlotte. It is stated that the Abbe Dinome had 
 assured Mr. de Monteyremar, who relates the incident, 
 that the hair, unfortunately lost through the ignorance of 
 a servant, was auburn, of a real and beautiful blond, 
 that is to say neither red nor ash-coloured, f 
 
 Mr. Lenotre, who has worked so pratically to recon- 
 stitute Paris during Revolutionary times, considers that 
 these details are open to" suspicion or else insufficient. 
 
 Mr. Lenotre managed to make the acquaintance of Mme. 
 Hauer, the daughter-in-law of the painter of the portrait 
 
 * Hauer, then an officer of the section of the TheMre Fran9ais, was 
 called to the tribunal by reason of his functions as garde national. 
 It was while gazing at the maiden that the idea came to him to make 
 a rough sketch of this beautiful model. (De Monteyremar, Ch. de Cor- 
 daij, pp. 115—116.) It was not until much later, that Hauer, with the 
 help of this sketch and of his souvenirs, composed the picture which 
 is to be seen in the picture gallery of Versailles. 
 
 This portrait was purchased in 1839, ten years after the painter's 
 death, by the Director of Museums, for 600 francs (£24), from the 
 heirs of Mme. Hauer (De Monteyremar, loc. cit., p. 117.) 
 
 t George Duval, in his Souvenirs de la Terreur, published in 1840, 
 asserts that he knew Hau6r, and that he saw at his house not only 
 the portrait, but also the lock of hair of Charlotte Corday. " This 
 portrait," says he, "that I have seen, and which has been recently 
 purchased by the Civil List for the Museum at Versailles, does not in 
 the least resemble the other portraits of Charlotte, which represent 
 her with dark hair, whereas here it is of a light blonde. The lock 
 of her hair, still in the possession of his family is a proof of the 
 same." (T. Ill, c. XXVIII, p. 357. 
 
uo (S^tttiott^ m)pan)^ of c^i^totl). 
 
 of Charlotte Corday; and according to this respectable 
 lady, it was not at the trial, but in the prison itself, a 
 few minutes before leaving for the place of execution, 
 that Charlotte gave this noted lock of hair to the painter 
 who had been authorized to visit her in her prison. 
 
 This lock of hair remained a long time in the possession 
 of the artist, until it was one day lost in the trouble ac- 
 companying a change of lodging. " I never heard, " added 
 Mme. Hauer, " that a portion of the lock of hair had ever 
 been given to any one, * my husband would have known 
 it; and as this loss was a source of positive regret to him, 
 he would certainly have demanded the return of it to him 
 from the person to whom it had been given. The colour 
 of the hair of Charlotte Corday was light auburn. My 
 husband had many opportunities of seeing it." 
 
 Hauer was not the only one who had seen that her 
 hair was light auburn ; we need seek no other proof for the 
 moment than the following two testimonies taken from the 
 Papiers inSdits de Vatel. f 
 
 * Cheron de Villiers (p. 55 of his work on Ch. Corday), asserts 
 however that he saw a lock of the hair of Charlotte in the possession 
 of a Madame Forget. This lady had it from the painter " who made 
 the last portrait of Marie de Corday." 
 
 t We thought we had exhausted all the sources of investigation 
 when the idea struck us of going to the Versailles library, where, we 
 had been told, were preserved the papers of Vatel. For the information 
 of those who may not know, be it known that Vatel is the accredited 
 historian of Charlotte Corday, her atvaliere serretife, and has been 
 aptly called her posthumous lover. During his lifetime this amiable 
 scholar had collected with fervour all the relics that could remind him 
 of the virgin martyr, of the saint to whom he had plighted his troth. 
 
One of ^ot>'^ mt^cl^. ui 
 
 First, that of a Mine. Bignon, residing at iiouen, aged 
 61 years (letter dated 11th September 1862, addressed to 
 Vatel) : 
 
 "... .Her skin was white and rosy, and her hair light 
 auburn. When the known portraits of Charlotte Corday 
 were shown to us, my mother exclaimed: 'It is quite 
 astonishing, I do not in the least recognize the features 
 of Mademoiselle de Corday. She is here made to look 
 like a big, dark, frigid woman ; but it is altogether incom- 
 prehensible. She was not at all like that. She was fair, 
 with a fresh complexion, and handsome.' " 
 
 The second testimony comes from a Mme. Fran^oise Pesuel, 
 widow Cauchois, born at Lacombe in March 1774. We 
 transcribe it here without changing anything: 
 
 " . . . . She (Ch. Corday) very much resembled her father, 
 she was of a tiice height, well made and upright, her face 
 rather long and pale, she was fair, of the same colour as 
 myself. She often wore a round cap with a ribbon encircling 
 it. She wore her hair plain or plaited falling behind on 
 her shoulders, she used powder, but moderately, because 
 she was verg fair." 
 
 Thanks to the great kindness of Mr. Taphanel, the guardian of these 
 treasures, we were allowed to visit the Charlotte Corday Saloon, where 
 a quantity of souvenirs of the heroine are preserved : the bed in which 
 she reposed as a young girl, the celebrated portrait by Hauer, and a 
 number of miniatures, engravings, etc., which in the silent meditation 
 in which we were wrapped enabled us to evoke that noble countenance. 
 
 Our pilgrimage terminated, we asked to see the Vatel /lajjers: and 
 from distant recesses were brought to us some thirty portfolios crammed 
 with manuscripts, the fruit of nearly thirty years laborious research ! 
 
 It was necessary to make a selection : this task was greatly facilitated 
 by the aid given to us by Mr. Taphanel and also by that of Mr. Vicat 
 whose co-operation on this occasion was particularly valuable. 
 
142 i^nviou^ ^t)paU}^ of ^movi). 
 
 But we now come to a rather difterent opinion, emanating 
 from a contemporary of Charlotte, Marie Anne Gilette, born 
 the 5th November 1774, at Saint- Jean-de-Caen, aged 88 
 years; she was sixteen years old in 1790. 
 
 This good dame states that Charlotte Curday's hair was: 
 chestnut. 
 
 " .... I have seen Mme. de Corday more than a hundred 
 times. She was neither fair, nor was she dark, but some- 
 thing betwixt the two, she was chestnut; her face was 
 rather large ; she had fine eyes and a pleasing look. Her 
 nose was not aquiline, she had a superb complexion, with 
 a very fresh colour; altogether she was a pretty person, 
 but she did not seem to be aware of it; she never gave 
 herself airs; her manner was simple and her dress quite 
 unpretending. " 
 
 Lastly, we take from a letter addressed to Mr. Vatel by 
 Mr. Cosnard-Desclosets, the following passage: 
 
 " . . . . She (Ch, Corday) was tall and strongly built, 
 which did not prevent her being graceful : her features 
 were irregular, but her complexion was admirable — I pur- 
 posely retain the word — her hair was light chestnut. Her 
 eyes were blue and very expressive; her hands large." 
 
 All these contradictory opinions are rather discon- 
 certing. 
 
 One point seems settled, that the colour of Charlotte 
 Corday's hair was auburn, but inclining to blonde, contrary 
 to the generally received opinion, and to the popular 
 lithographs which generally represent her with quite 
 dark hair. 
 
£)ne of ©ob*^ mx^cU. 148 
 
 Mr. Vatel remarks that, in the portrait by Hauer, 
 " the death of Marat ^ " Charlotte Corday is powdered. In 
 the painting by the same artist, Charlotte Corday before 
 the Revolutionary Tribunal, she is also represented with 
 her hair powdered. 
 
 This in itself is the only detail of any value in the 
 discussion : Charlotte, in fact, was in the habit, according 
 to the custom of the day, to slightly powder her hair. 
 
 We may here quote incidentally a witness whose 
 evidence may have some value. It is the hair-dresser who 
 gave his professional services to Charlotte Corday, on the 
 very day when she was about to accomplish the act which 
 was destined to immortalize her name. 
 
 A certain hair-dresser named " Charles-Alexandre Person, 
 hair-dresser and barber to the Ecole Polytechnique and to 
 the College Henri IV, residing in Paris, at the Barriere 
 d'ltalie, " * used to relate as follows : 
 
 * The two following letters, taken from the Vatel papers show what 
 care this conscientious scholar took to obtain information, even the 
 least important, of a nature to shed a light upon the biography of 
 his heroine. 
 
 The first of these letters is signed by a well-known name, that of 
 Mr. Dauban, the author of a work on Madame Roland which is con- 
 sidered trustworthy. 
 Sir, 
 
 The hair-dresser whom I mentioned to you was named Person. He 
 resided in the Rue Descartes, 42. He has now retired to the Barriere 
 Fontainebleau, near to the fortifications. I could not obtain his number, 
 but I am assured that he is very well known in the quarter and it 
 will be very easy for you to find him out. This information has been 
 given to me by the hair-dresser who succeeded hi'Ji, and I give it 
 you as I had it. 
 
 Yours very truly 
 
 29th August 1864. Dauban. 
 
144 €uvtou)^ m}paii}^ of ^movt). 
 
 (Mr. Person, as it is said in a note, " is an old man, 
 but very well preserved, not appearing more than sixty 
 years old. ") We will now allow him to speak for himself: 
 
 " I was born in 1787. 
 
 " In 1805 I was apprenticed to a hair-dresser named 
 Ferieux, in the Rue des Vieux Augustins ; he had a little 
 shop looking on the street ; in the morning he used to wait 
 upon outside customers ; in the evening he was employed 
 at a gambling-house in the Palais-Royal, n" 129. 
 
 " This is what I heard him relate : 
 
 "In the morning of the day of Marat's assassination, he 
 was summoned to a neighbouring hotel in the same street, 
 between the Rue Pagevin and the Rue Montmartre, on the 
 right-hand side. He went there and found a young lady 
 alone in her room ; he dressed her hair and pou'dered it ; 
 while he was proceeding with his business, he noticed on 
 a commode a knife in its sheath. 
 
 "In the evening news was brought of the death of 
 
 The other letter, written by a less known person. Mr. Felix Jube, 
 is not less interesting: 
 
 Paris, 30th Sept. 1867. 
 Sir, 
 I have to regret not having been able to reply earlier to the letter 
 with which you honoured me. It was only yesterday that I ascer- 
 tained with certainty the existence of Mr. Ver&onin the full jyossession 
 of all his faculties. He still resides at the Maison-Blanche, opposite 
 to the omnibus station of the line Pointe St. Eustache to the Maison- 
 Blanche. 
 
 I should have wished to have been able to inform you that I had 
 seen him, and have been glad to confirm my remembrances concern- 
 ing a fact which appears to interest you. 
 Please accept, etc. 
 
 Felix Jube, 
 Rue des Feuillantines, 47. 
 
£)m of ^0t>'^ mt^cU. 145 
 
 Marat, and the next day, the officers of justice having 
 visited the hotel, he found that the young woman whose 
 hair he had dressed was Charlotte Corday. I heard that 
 from his own lips ; it was all he told me. 
 
 He did not say whether she was fair, nor of what colour 
 was her dress. He merely related to me the above. He 
 was not an educated man, and conversed but little; what 
 seemed to have struck him most, and upon which he laid 
 some stress, was that he had dressed her hair and giveti 
 it only a trifle of powder, and that he had seen the knife 
 upon the commode."* 
 
 One may have noticed in the evidence we have here 
 given, this phrase : " nor did he tell me of what colour was 
 her dress. " Would that not lead us to suppose that Vafel 
 had endeavoured to elucidate a question which to him 
 seemed doubtful? 
 
 In fact, historians have very much discussed— the subject 
 was attractive— the colour of the dress, or rather of the 
 dresses, of Charlotte Corday. And as even the simplest 
 detail may have its relative value, we will say. what we 
 know on the subject. 
 
 When Charlotte Corday called to see Marat, at nine in 
 
 * The poniard of Marat had a hilt of mother of pearl with the blade 
 curved and the point turned upwards; it might be about eighteen inches 
 long; the sheath had two little rings attached, through which a chain 
 could be passed to suspend it. 
 
 Mdlle. Marat gave it to Mr. Bureau, Jun. of Argentan. She was often 
 annoyed by the police and used to hide all weapons and other objects 
 which had belonged to her brother — she deposited them in the hands 
 of friends. {Letter from Mr. Germain to Vatel, of 26th Sept. 1862J. 
 
 10 
 
146 ^nvton^ m)paU)^ of ^movi). 
 
 the morning of the 13th July 1793, she had on, according 
 to Catherine Evrard, one of the witnesses of the drama — 
 and, as Mr. Lenotre judiciously remarks, in matter of 
 dress the testimony of a woman is indisputable. — Char- 
 lotte had on, we say, a brown dress and a black hat." * 
 A portrait, formerly in the possession of Mr. Renand 
 
 * When Charlotte Corday arrived at Caen, she wore the tall conical 
 hat then in fashion; she had the same hat on when she went to see 
 Marat. She also wore this tall black hat at her first hearing, as testified 
 by the portrait of her that was sketched by Hauer. In the prison she 
 had a cap made for her, with which she appeared before the Revolu- 
 tionary Tribunal and Avhich she still wore while mounting the scaffold. 
 This cap, made at Paris according to the fashion of the day, is similar 
 to that worn later by Marie Antoinette on the fatal cart. See the 
 celebrated sketch made by David. 
 
 In the picture by the painter Scheffer, although he aimed at realism, 
 the cap worn by Charlotte is not in accordance with historical truth. 
 
 The following is what Mr. Pourvoyeur an eye-witness of the drama 
 related to a friend at Versailles, a Mr. Salmon, bookseller, on the 30th 
 June 1868. We copy this from a note in the Vatel Papers. 
 
 " Mr. Pourvoyeur, an engraver, informed me that when a child he 
 lived in the Rue de I'Ecole de Medecine, then des Cordeliers, in the 
 same house with Marat, that he was present at the arrest of Charlotte 
 Corday, and that she then wore a conical tall hat. 
 
 " He used to get vexed when he saw the picture by Ary Scheffer, 
 saying: 
 
 * Is it possible to make such a mistake? Charlotte was not wearing 
 a cap when she was arrested; it is possible that she wore one later, 
 at the trial, but she certainly did not at Marat's." 
 
 He added that when she was being removed, one of those present 
 would have attacked and maltreated her, but he was prevented by one 
 of the others. 
 
 Pourvoyeur had first been a navy surgeon, but he afterwards took 
 to his father's profession, that of engraver; it was he who engraved 
 the celebrated picture representing the Review by Napoleon in the 
 court of the Tuileries. 
 
£)ne of i^0t>'^ ^Ut^cU. 147 
 
 (of Caen), and of which Mr. Vatel had a wood engraving, 
 represents her as follows : " The Knife in one hand, a fan 
 in the other, and clad in a a brown dress and on her 
 head a black hat.^ 
 
 Towards evening, she returns to the Rue des Cordeliers ; 
 but in the meanwhile she had changed her dress. 
 
 Laurent Bas deposes as follows : " At half past seven 
 in the evening, a person of the female sex, descending 
 from a hired vehicle, wearing a spotted morning gown and 
 a tall hat, with a black cockade and three black ribbons, 
 and a fan in her hand, asked to be admitted to see 
 citizen Marat ..." 
 
 It is this spotted morning-gown that Mr. C. Clere has 
 sought to represent in the tryptich he exhibited in the 
 Salon of 1880. 
 
 But all the painters of the day, who were unacquainted 
 with the declaration of Laurent Bas, have given to Char- 
 lotte a white gown: Hauer, Garneray senior, Pfeiffer, 
 Monnet, Brillon, Joigneaux, d'Origny. 
 
 The engravers, on the contrary, have adopted a striped 
 gown: at the bottom of page 105 of his Memoires sur 
 Charlotte Corday^ Mr. Adolphe Huart writes: 
 
 " At the moment when she accomplished her courageous 
 act, Charlotte Corday wore the following costume: a greij 
 striped dimitij morning gown, a tall hat, surmounted with 
 a black cockade and green ribbons. I seem to remember 
 that in the painting by Ary Scheffer, representing the 
 arrest of Charlotte Corday, the dress is of white dimity. 
 In the Museum at Yersailles there is a portrait of Char- 
 
148 ^tttiou^ m)\faii)^ uf ^t0t0vl)» 
 
 lotte Corday by Jean Jacques Hauer, painted from nature 
 at the time of her trial. She is represented sitting dressed 
 in white. 
 
 In the number of the Autographe (of 1st October 1864), 
 devoted entirely to Charlotte Corday the author, Mr. 
 Cheron de Villiers is of the same opinion with regard to 
 her costume. 
 
 To sum up, during the course of the drama Charlotte 
 Corday wore several gowns, which must all be considered 
 as authentic: the broivn dress before the crime; the 
 spotted one during its perpetration, and the white gown at 
 the trial. "^^ To these three must be added the red shirt f 
 which was the costume of her execution, the last dress 
 of the "angel of assassination." 
 
 * Vide Figaro of 20th and 24th August 1880 (Articles by Ad. Racot). 
 
 t In the sentence of death on Ch. Corday is the following: 
 
 "Pursuant to Article 4 of Provision 1 of the First Part of the Penal 
 Code, which has been read, and is to the following purpose : 
 
 " Whoever shall have been condemned to death for the crime of 
 murder, incendiarism or poisonipg, shall be taken to the place of exe- 
 cution clad in a red shirt." 
 
THE 
 
 PROLOGUE TO THE DRAMA. 
 CHAELOTTE COKDAY'S ADMIRERS. 
 
3 fjatjc marfcb 
 51 t^ousttub Hu^fjino a^j^arittou^ start 
 Suto (jci* face; a ii}oimnt innocent sfjamcs 
 Sn angct lofjitcncss bear aioai) t^osc Mnsfjcs; 
 5tnb in fjcr cijc t^cre ^at^ rHJ)}cai*cb a fire 
 2o bnrn tfje errors t\)ai t^eSe ^jrinces ^olb 
 5tgain3t ^er maiben truttj. 
 
 Much Ado, IV, 
 
11. THE PROLOGUE TO THE DBAMA. 
 CORDAY'S ADMIRERS. 
 
 CHARLOTTE 
 
 osT historians have endeavoured to find a personal 
 motive for the murder of Marat. According to 
 them, it was revenge which armed the hand of the heroine, 
 who made the dictator of the Convention responsible for 
 the death of her lovers. We purposely say her lovers, 
 because several have been attributed to her, though wrongly, 
 there being no sufficient proof to attribute a single one 
 to her with any amount of truth. 
 
 There is a legend that while she was at the Abbaye- 
 aux-Dames, Ch. Corday had many opportunities of meeting 
 young Henri de Belzunce, second major in the Bourbon- 
 Infantry Regiment, then in garrison at Caen, and that the 
 intimacy between the young people had been facilitated 
 by the lady Abbess herself, of whom the officer was a 
 nephew. A few years later, Mr. de Belzunce was murdered 
 by an infuriated mob, and his body horribly mutilated. 
 This crime was asserted to have been the result of the 
 preachings of Marat, in his sanguinary paper the Ami du 
 Peuple. 
 
 151 
 
152 ^nvion^ ^\)paU)^ of ^>tetoti)* 
 
 Here again historical truth contradicts the legend; the 
 assassination of de Belzunce took place on the 12th of 
 August 1789, exactly one month before the appearance of 
 the first number of the Ami du Peuple. 
 
 The lady Abbess of Caen, we may here remark, was 
 only a distant relative of major Henri de Belzunce, and 
 she died on the 3rd February 1787, more than two years 
 before the arrival at Caen of Mr. de Belzunce, which was 
 not until the month of April, 1789. 
 
 There exists besides, no positive proof of their having 
 been any intimacy between the young gentleman and 
 Charlotte Corday. Everything induces us on the contrary, 
 to think that the young girl, who had early distinguished 
 herself by ardent Republican opinions, would not have 
 sacrificed her political faith to a passing caprice; particu- 
 larly in favour of a young nobleman of such firm Royalist 
 opinions as Mr. de Belzunce. 
 
 It will be as easy for us to dispose of the opinion, 
 more or less credited, that Charlotte Corday had a particu- 
 larly tender feeling towards the Girondist Barbaroux. 
 No doubt Barbaroux possessed physical advantages likely 
 to make an impression on the young girl: his features 
 were regular, his eyes full of fire, and altogether his 
 physiognomy was most prepossessing. 
 
 Nor must we too readily believe those who have repre- 
 sented him as " a bloated, puffed-up fop, " with " a more 
 than ruddy face, fairly blotched." Let us be satisfied with 
 a disinterested testimony, that of his colleague and friend 
 Louvet: Barbaroux, who was then 28 years of age, had 
 
mjavMtc'^ nt>mivcv^. 153 
 
 the stoutness of a man of 40. He might succeed in 
 captivating hearts, but only in a world where such triumphs 
 are easy. He led besides, a life of dissipation and pleasure. 
 He resided in the same hotel as a certain Marquise, 
 anything but cruel, who was known by the name of Zelis 
 or Zelia only, and whose fancy it was, notwithstanding 
 her undoubtedly authentic titles of nobility, to proclaim 
 the most advanced ideas. 
 
 Whatever fancy he might have had to do sO; Barbaroux 
 could not have found a discreet opportunity to pay court 
 to Mdlle. de Corday. In such a small provincial town as 
 was Caen at that time, such a thing would have immedi- 
 ately been noised about. * 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 *. There can be no doubt that Charlotte had several interviews 
 with Barbaroux, but these interviews took place before witnesses, 
 generally at the Intendance, almost in public; the saloons of the 
 Intendance were always crowded. 
 
 The first interview occurred about the 20th June; Barbaroux had 
 been at Caen since the 15th. 
 
 Eight or ten days later, Charlotte Corday went again to the Intend- 
 ance to visit the proscribed deputies. This second interview may 
 have been about the 28th or 30th June. 
 
 The third was on the 7th July 1793, the date is given in Charlotte's 
 own handwriting in her letter to Barbaroux. 
 
 * The idea of striking at Marat had been conceived by her since 
 the 2ud June, but she had not fixed in her mind the date of its 
 execution; she herself declares that what quite decided her tvas the 
 courage ivith which the volunteers came forward to enlist after the 
 revietv of the 7th July. The National Guard at Gaen had been reviewed 
 by General Wimpfen and his staff on the Cours-la-Reine, with the 
 result that a battalion of volunteers was to be formed to join the 
 federalist army at Evreux." Vide Documents relating to the trial of 
 Charlotte Corday before the Revolutionary Tribunal, C. Vatel, advocate, 
 1861. 
 
154 (^uvtott)^ 25))^rttp of ^movi). 
 
 Ought we to pay more attention to M^' Boisjugau de 
 Maingre, the nobleman who was shot in 1792, as an 
 emigre, taken in armed resistance. 
 
 Mr. de Boisjugan may have met Charlotte at the house 
 of her aunt Mme. de Bretheville, that is all that can be 
 assumed, but no trustworthy evidence has been brought 
 forward to prove that there was ever a project of marriage 
 between the young people. 
 
 As for the fable, which we believe to have been imag- 
 ined by Lamartine, of a young man of the name of 
 Tranquelin, supposed to have gone to Vibraye, in the 
 Sarthe, there to die in despair after hearing of the death 
 of Charlotte, we now know its origin. 
 
 It was, a Mr. de la Sicotiere, who died some years ago, 
 who first revealed it, and, according to all appearances, it 
 was this story that the poet took as a canvas to embroider 
 upon. 
 
 An old woman-servant, writes Mr. de la Sicotiere, one 
 day at Mans, entered a rich picture-gallery, where at the 
 sight of a copy of Ary Scheffer's painting, she started and 
 exclaimed : 
 
 "That is Charlotte Corday," pointing to the pale and 
 noble features of the heroine . . . 
 
 " How do you know that? " asked her master. 
 
 And then the old woman related a strange tale. About 
 the time when Charlotte Corday was executed, a young 
 man came to reside with his mother at Vibraye ; he was 
 a native of Normandy, and his name was Franquelin. This 
 young man was the prey to a continual melancholy ; he 
 was supposed to be consumptive, and it was not long 
 before he died. 
 
 The old woman, who at that time was young, and, 
 
mmioiU'^ nt>m%uv^. 155 
 
 who waited upon him, observed him often absorbed in 
 the contemplation of a miniature, which never quitted 
 him, or else reading a bundle of letters, over which he 
 shed many tears. 
 
 One day she ventured to ask him the cause of his 
 sadness. 
 
 " This portrait, " he answered, ** is that of the girl I 
 loved, Charlotte Corday ; these also are her letters, and, 
 when I die, I desire that these letters and the -portrait 
 be buried with me ! " 
 
 When he died, his last wishes were complied with. * 
 
 So that the secret of this admirer of Charlotte would 
 appear to have been buried in the tomb ! . . . 
 
 Let us pardon the poet for having idealized the testi- 
 mony of an old gossip, which, thanks to him, will thus 
 be handed down to posterity. 
 
 * * 
 
 We should have rather more hesitation to pronounce 
 an opinion with regard to the person who will next 
 appear upon the scene. 
 
 When, on the eve of her execution, Charlotte Corday 
 wrote to Barbaroux, she earnestly entreated him not to 
 fail to communicate her letter to the "citizen Bougon." 
 
 Bougon, that is Bougon-Longrais, procurator-general 
 syndic of the Calvados department, was a magistrate as 
 amiable as he was grave, and was said to have been an 
 intimate friend of Mdlle. de Corday. She is supposed to 
 have written about twenty letters to him, mostly, it 
 appears, on " literary and political subjects. " 
 
 * La Mosa't'que de I' Quest et du Centre, t. II, 1845—46, p. 360. 
 
156 ^nvioxi^ m)pam of ^movt). 
 
 This correspondence, we hasten to say, has never been 
 discovered. All that can be said is, that the letter ad- 
 dressed by Charlotte to Barbaroux, seems to attest nothing 
 more than "friendship" towards Bougon ; but as she knew 
 that it was destined to be read by " all her friends who 
 might wish to see it," it is possible that she may have 
 been reserved. 
 
 "If," she adds, she has not written directly to Bougon, 
 it is because "she is not sure that he is atEvreux," and 
 more particularly that she fears he may be too much 
 "afflicted at her death." These at all events are the 
 motives that she gives, but are there not other motives 
 or one in particular that she dare not avow . . . ? * 
 
 An impartial investigation of the facts leads us to 
 recognize that Charlotte Corday has been the victim of 
 calumny ; we shall soon see how political passion could 
 so far sway her enemies as to lead them even to outrage 
 her memory. 
 
 As we are now on the chapter of the lovers of Char- 
 lotte, it may be well to reserve this title to the man who 
 most deserved it, employing the expression of course in 
 its most limited sense. 
 
 History tells us that a love, at once enthusiastic, 
 wild, and visionary, like every hopeless love, had followed 
 
 * " I am convinced that if Charlotte Corday has distinguished or 
 preferred any one, it is neither Belzunce, nor Barbaroux, nor Boisjugan 
 de Mingr^, nor any other, but Bougon-Longrais only. And even with 
 regard to him I do not admit more than an affectionate sympathy." 
 Vatel; Dramatic Bibliography of Charlotte Corday, t. I, CCXI. 
 
mmiotU*^ nt>mivcv§. 157 
 
 Charlotte Corday beyond the tomb. She died without 
 having even suspected it. * 
 
 A young dreamy German, delegated to Paris by the 
 town of Mayence as deputy extraordinary to the Con- 
 vention, Dr. Adam Lux, — he was both doctor of medi- 
 cine t and doctor of philosophy — had followed the fatal 
 cart which conveyed Charlotte to the Place de la Revo- 
 lution. He reluctantly dragged himself from the place of 
 execution, murmuring before the astonished crowd : § . . . 
 Greater than Brutus! 
 
 This act of fanaticism has been variously judged, and 
 some have not hesitated to attribute it to mental aberration. 
 
 A friend of Adam Lux, Dr. Wetekind, wrote on this 
 
 * In the well-known letter, addressed from her prison by Charlotte 
 Corday to Barbaroux, mention is made of Bougon-Longrais, to whom 
 the heroic maiden sends a remembrance at that supreme moment. 
 
 According to the intentions of Charlotte Corday, this letter was 
 destined to be published, and one can understand the reserve of her 
 expressions, at the same time it is easy to read between the lines that 
 Bougon was far from being indifferent to her. 
 
 It is besides proved that Charlotte was in rather frequent corre- 
 spondence with Bougon-Longrais, who had about twenty letters from his 
 amiable friend, at the moment when he was himself arrested at Rennes. 
 
 It is not the less certain, on referring to a letter addressed by the 
 same Bougon to his mother, the 5th January 1794, and for the first 
 time published by Vatel (work previously cited, CCXIII to CCXV), that 
 Bougon-Longrais entertained for her more than friendship, and, a real 
 affection Were these sentiments shared by Charlotte? The proof 
 thereof may perhaps be found when the letter shall be discovered 
 which was sold by auction at London in 1868, addressed, (" the man 
 she was in love with " according to the catalogue). All that we know 
 is that the letter was in the collection of Sir Henry Nottingham. 
 
 t Cheron de Villiers, Marie- Anne-C\\arlotte-de-Corday, p. 429. 
 
 § He had not practised medicine on account of an invincible aversion 
 to anatomical studies, which were repugnant to his delicate nature. 
 
158 ^mion^ m)paii)^ of ^mott). 
 
 subject in one of the journals of the period the following 
 suggestive lines: 
 
 " There is at this moment in the prison of the Con- 
 ciergerie, a German deserving of the pity of patriots, be- 
 cause his head has gone wrong and he has become absolutely- 
 mad . . . Another circumstance has tended to increase 
 this madness. Lux was deeply enamoured of his wife 
 and although his temperament was particularly ardent, he 
 has lived ever since he quitted her in a state of strict 
 chastity. This new situation has augmented the disturb- 
 ance of his senses, and at the sight of Charlotte Corday, 
 the only woman that he had perhaps remarked since he 
 has been in Paris, having produced an extremely strong 
 physical impression upon him, has put the climax upon 
 the confusion and dark melancholy which dominated his 
 mind . . . His imagination, thus overwrought, troubled, his 
 reason, and he thought without reasoning , . . 
 
 " All these facts have been made known to me by 
 a physician of Mayence who knows Lux, and is of 
 opinion that it would be better to shut him up in an 
 asylum, or to send him off to America, than to guillotine 
 him." * 
 
 Adam Lux protested indignantly against the assertions 
 of Dr. Wetekind. 
 
 He wrote to the Journal de la Montague, which pub- 
 lished the 26th September 1793 his protest that " he was 
 not mad enough to desire to live," and that it was a 
 proof of wisdom to go forward to meet death. 
 
 He was left lingering for some time in the prison of 
 
 * Bevue Moderne, 1886, t. 39, pp. 126—127. 
 
 It may not be out of place to note that one of the daughters of 
 Adam Lux, committed suicide. 
 
mmioiU'^ nt>mhct^. 159 
 
 La Force * and it was not until the 14th brumaire (10th 
 October) 1793 that he was brought before the revolutionary 
 Tribunal. 
 
 The same day, at five in the afternoon Adam Lux was 
 executed on the same scaffold where the object of his 
 adoration had perished. 
 
 It is related that on leaving the Conciergerie, he 
 exclaimed, in a moment of supreme enthusiasm: 
 
 " At last, I am going to die for Charlotte Corday ! " f 
 
 We think it will be our duty to produce here two letters 
 which, as far as we know, have never yet been published, 
 and which may serve to throw a curious light upon the 
 mental condition of Charlotte Corday on the eve of her 
 crime. 
 
 These letters are taken from the Vatel Papers from 
 which we have already borrowed so many valuable facts. 
 
 The first is addressed by a Mr. or Mme. Kault " to Mr. 
 
 * We have discovered in the National Archives the following letter 
 which we have every reason to think hitherto unpublished; 
 Letter from Adam Lux to the citizen Fougauld (sic). 
 
 At the Prison of La Force 
 20th September, 1793. 
 Citizen, 
 
 I am well aware that you are occupied with an immense amount 
 of work. But being in this prison for the last two months, I have 
 the honour to recall myself to mind, begging of you to decide if 
 there is any cause of accusation against me and to hasten my trial 
 
 Adam Lux 
 
 Deputy extr. of Mayence. 
 t Charon de Villiers, loc, cit., p. 423. 
 
l()0 (^m\0n^ mjpaii}^ of Ȥi^toti). 
 
 Bourgeois, road-surveyor at Argentan." It is dated from 
 Saint-Gervais-les-Sablons (27th January 1847): 
 
 " The mind of this young girl was rather over excited, 
 running quickly to extremes and enthusiastically adopting 
 the opinions which happened to please her. 
 
 " First of all, she wanted to become a Carmelite nun, but 
 her father withholding his consent, to make up for this 
 refusal she used to live in her father's home just as if in 
 a convent, wearing the habit of the Order, and following, 
 as well as she could, the religious observances of the Order 
 into which she had wished to enter. 
 
 " Later on her ideas were modified, and being at Caen at 
 the house of one of her relatives, Mme. de Bretheville, she 
 adopted rich toilettes and frequented society. It was then 
 that she met some of the Girondists, lent a willing ear to 
 their complaints and frequented their Club. One day she 
 quitted them, hearing them murmur together: 'who will 
 deliver us from such a monster as Marat?' 
 
 "'Before long,' she said, 'you shall hear men talk of 
 me.' A few days later, Marat was no more . . . . " 
 
 The second letter, far more important, and to our know- 
 ledge as yet unpublished, bears the signature of Mr. Cos- 
 nard-Desclosets, in reply to a request made to him by the 
 historian of Charlotte Corday (Vatel) for information con- 
 cerning her. This letter is full of anecdotic details of 
 the highest interest. 
 
 " Nothing in her conduct led the friends of Marie de 
 Corday to foresee the projects to the execution of which 
 she owes her celebrity. 
 
 " Always good, affable, devoted, her society was full of 
 charm, and one felt attracted by sympathy towards this 
 
mjavMie'^ %t>mivev^. 161 
 
 impressionable and ardent nature ; her character was gay, 
 and her conversation easy, often spiced with the least 
 flavour of irony. 
 
 " Marie de Corday was fond of reading ; and she expressed 
 great admiration for the ancient republics of Athens, 
 Sparta and Rome; when she touched on these subjects 
 her conversation became more elevated in tone, and she 
 regretted not have lived in such heroic times; but she 
 had a horror of the Revolutionary tribunal, as well as of 
 the Republicans of her day ! 
 
 " Political questions sometimes exasperated her, and she 
 then expressed her opinions with an amount of enthusiasm 
 very foreign to her character. 
 
 " Mme. Gautier de Villiers has a thousand times told me 
 that, in one of her political conversations, during a dinner 
 at which General de la Rue was present (at Mme. de 
 Bretheville's), she was witness to a circumstance which 
 remained engraved upon her memory after the tragical 
 ending of her friend. After giving, with her usual frank- 
 ness, her opinion on the events of the day, Marie de Cor- 
 day, excited by the contradiction she met with from the 
 General, addressed these words to him : If you were the 
 last of the Republicans^ I would poniard you!/! at the same 
 time showing him the knife she had in her hand. 
 
 " I was happy. Sir, to see you victoriously combat the 
 idea, contrary to the truth and yet credited to a certain 
 extent— that Marie de Corday had acted under the influ- 
 ence of a feeling of interest which she felt for one of the 
 refugees at Caen, or that she wished to revenge an un- 
 fortunate lover. 
 
 "The resolution of Marie de Corday was inspired by no 
 considerations of the kind; and I have often heard Mme. 
 
 11 
 
162 ^uviou^ 25^^atp of ^movi). 
 
 Gautier de Villiers most energitically deny this imputation, 
 which she declared to be a calumny. 
 
 " Madame Gautier even added that when people jested 
 with Mdlle. de Corday on the subject of marriage she 
 used laughingly to reply that she never intended to marry, 
 because there was no man born destined to be her master. 
 
 " These details - coming from a friend of this celebrated 
 woman — were of a nature to greatly interest a young 
 man; — and I remember them the more faithfully, that 
 during many years, I heard them repeated with that 
 perfect lucidity of memory which Mme. Gautier preserved 
 to the end of her life, that is to say, until 1848. 
 
 " After long conversations, in which aged people take 
 such delight, I had at different times taken notes, which 
 I have searched for in vain, and would have been happy 
 to communicate to you : I should besides have accomplished 
 — in quite an unexpected manner — the intention I had 
 then in view, in the sole interest of historical truth. 
 
 " When my grandmother spoke of the devotedness of 
 Mdlle. de Corday to her friends, and of how much she 
 advanced in the esteem of Mme. de Forbin, to which she 
 could testify,— she used to add that one day Mdlle. de 
 Corday wanted to take her with her to the Intendance 
 at the Place Saint-Pierre, where she went to see the 
 representatives of the people who had taken refuge there. — 
 But my grandmother feared to involve her family in disgrace 
 and she went no further than the door, where she quitted 
 her, saying that Mdlle. de Cordatj being single was free to 
 do as she pleased; but as for her, the mother of five children, 
 she could not run the risk of compromising her family. 
 
 " Mdlle. de Corday was besides escorted by Leclerc, her 
 cousin's servant. 
 
mjavlotie'^ nt>nxivct^. 163 
 
 " My grandmother particularly liked to talk— which she did 
 with great interest— about her last interviews with Charlotte 
 Corday, and which she related even to the smallest details. 
 
 " Two or three days before her departure from Caen, 
 Mdlle. de Corday had set out for Verzon ; she was accom- 
 panied by the Marquise de Fauville, who on such excur- 
 sions often took the place of Mme. de Bretheville, who was 
 not easily induced to quit her arm-chair. 
 
 " Mme. Gautier, who was the same day going to Caen, 
 met these two ladies on the way, in their modest car- 
 riage; she brought them back with her, and they passed 
 the rest of the day pleasantly at her house. 
 
 " Nothing transpired of a nature to indicate the terrible 
 resolution that Mdlle. de Corday had no doubt already 
 formed; and with regard to her approaching departure, 
 she explained it by saying that she had to undertake a 
 journey; merely adding, what the intimacy of the con- 
 versation may excuse, that she had told her stupid cousin 
 that she was going to see her grandfather . . . 
 
 " They bade each other good-bye in the evening, promis- 
 ing to meet again the next day at Caen : Mdlle. de Corday 
 took a shawl away with her, lent by Mme. Gautier — leaving 
 with her a scarf and a fan which are still in our posses- 
 sion. 
 
 " The green paper forming the basis of the fan has 
 altogether disappeared, and there remains only the wooden 
 framework—its sole value being, that the gentle hand 
 that made its light leaves flutter, was destined but a few 
 days later, to wield the poniard that killed Marat. 
 
 " The next day, a circumstance happened which may have 
 a certain importance in this matter. 
 
 " The young Emilie Gautier, a little girl, had for some 
 
164 dmioti^ 25l|^rttp of ^mott). 
 
 time past teased her mother to give her ear-rings, when 
 Mdlle. de Corday, intervening in the affair^ unhooked the 
 golden ear-rings she wore, and gave them to the child, 
 telling her at the same time that she had others. 
 
 " This would to some extent explain the character of 
 Charlotte de Corday : kind and warm-hearted to those who 
 were near to her, and, in the opinion of Mme. Gautier de 
 Villiers, this seemed to be a convincing proof of a resolu- 
 tion irrevocably taken but of which no exterior token was 
 visible, a sort of last testimony of affection to those whom 
 she knew well she would never see again. 
 
 " Nothing— I cannot too often repeat, — could have seemed 
 in these her last farewells to give the least indication of 
 emotion or of wavering; nothing appeared to disturb the 
 habitual equanimity of this young girl. 
 
 " You have. Sir, taken so close an interest in this histori- 
 cal question, that you will pardon me for entering into 
 such minute details^ but which, had it not been for your 
 unexpected communication, would probably never have gone 
 beyond the circle of my intimate acquaintances. 
 
 " I beg to add a few lines concerning the portrait of 
 Marie -Charlotte de Corday. 
 
 " As well as I can recollect hearing, she must have been 
 tall and well built, which did not prevent her being 
 graceful ; her features were not regular, but her complexion 
 was admirable -.—I preserve the word expressly — her hair 
 was light chestnut; her eyes were blue, and very expres- 
 sive — her hands were reri/ strong. 
 
 " Mme. Gautier, who has never visited Paris, and had 
 never seen the portrait of Charlotte Corday by Hauer, 
 declared that all the portraits spread about were not at 
 all life-like .... Cosnard-Desclosets. " 
 
THE 
 
 EPILOGUE TO THE DRAMA 
 THE 'BOURREAU' BUFFETS HER HEAD. 
 
0% it i^ monstrous, mon^troue! 
 
 5)lct^ouG(jt i\)t hWioxm spofc, onb tolb mc of it; 
 
 i^c winb bib sing it to mc; nnb t(jc tijunbcr, 
 
 li)ai bce^ aiib brcabful organ p'xpt, 
 
 ^ib hai^ mt) trcs^as^. 
 
 The Tempest, Act. Ill, Sc. 3. 
 

 ^E^^l 
 
 III. THE EPILOGUE TO THE DRAMA. -THE BUFFET 
 
 GIVEN BY THE EXECUTIONER'S ASSISTANT 
 
 TO THE SEVERED HEAD OF CHARLOTTE 
 
 CORDAY. 
 
 ANSON, the executioner who carried out the sentences 
 of the Revolutionary tribunal, has related in his 
 Memoires the slightest incidents concerning the drama, the 
 epilogue of which took place on the Place de la Revolution. 
 
 On leaving his office, Fouquier-Tinville met Sanson: 
 "What, thou art still here?" said he, in a menacing 
 tone. And as the executioner replied that he awaited the 
 orders of the Public Prosecutor, he immediately signed 
 the death warrant. The text was besides already printed ; 
 he had but to fill up the blanks. 
 
 Upon that, the chief clerk came up, bearing the original 
 and the copy of the sentence. 
 
 He went immediately, followed by Sanson, to the Con- 
 ciergerie. 
 
 The door-keeper, Citizen Richard, conducted them to the 
 cell of the condemned heroine. The ushers of the tribunal 
 
 167 
 
168 duiriou)^ m)paif)^ of ^movtf. 
 
 entered first. The executioner waited outside. He then 
 entered in his turn. 
 
 When Charlotte Corday perceived him, bearing in his 
 hands a pair of scissors and the scarlet shirt, she could not 
 help saying : " What, already ! " 
 
 While requesting him to wait a moment — she finished 
 writing the note addressed to the advocate she had chosen 
 to defend her, * Doulcet de Pontecoulant — one of the 
 ushers read aloud the sentence. 
 
 This formality conpleted, Charlotte took off her cap and 
 seated herself conveniently in a chair. 
 
 Before the executioner had commenced his work, Char- 
 lotte took up the scissors and herself cut off a lock of 
 her beautiful hair: f destined for Haiier, the painter, who 
 had just finished her portrait. That done, she gave her- 
 self up without resistance to Sanson, who terminated his 
 lugubrious functions. He put upon her the scarlet shirt 
 prescribed by the law, § and proceeded to bind the hands 
 of the condemned. 
 
 The cords which had encircled her wrists when she had 
 
 * In this note she very unjustly accused Doulcet de Pontecoulant 
 of cowardice, because he had not replied to her request: It was 
 proved later that Charlotte's request did not reach him until four 
 days after the execution. 
 
 t The hair cut off by Sanson, was given by Charlotte Corday to 
 the door- keeper of the prison, as a testimony of regard for his kind- 
 ness towards her. 
 
 § In the Nouveau, Paris of Mercier, vol. II, Chap. 53, we read the 
 following: "When the pretended prison conspiracies were invented, 
 in order to massacre a greater number,, the victims were called car- 
 dinalx, because their shirts were red. Suck a coloured shirt covered 
 the modest charms of Charlotte Corday; and it is in remembrance of 
 this courageous woman that many persons of her sex wore, and still 
 wear, a red shawl." 
 
^\)c ^cat>^nxan'^ f&nfict 169 
 
 first been arrested had been drawn so tightly, that she 
 still bore the traces they had left. 
 
 Showing these marks to the executioner, she said 
 to him. 
 
 " If you are not unwilling to let me suffer a little less 
 before putting me to death, I would beg you to allow me 
 to gather up my sleeves or to put a pair of gloves beneath 
 the bands you are preparing for me." * 
 
 The fatal cart, destined to take her to the place of 
 execution, waited in the court-yard of the prison. Char- 
 lotte mounted into it, the executioner following her. 
 
 Notwithstanding that she was requested by Sanson to 
 sit down on a chair provided for her, she remained proudly 
 erect, braving the insults of the populace howling threats 
 of death. 
 
 The clamour of the mob was now mingled with the 
 noise of thunder; for at this moment a formidable thun- 
 derstorm broke over Paris. 
 
 During the journey the calmness of Charlotte Corday 
 never failed for a single moment. As regards that we 
 have formal evidence, that of Doctor Cabanis, who has 
 transmitted to us, in the following words, his impressions, 
 or rather those of eye-witnesses who had communicated 
 them to him : " I did not assist, " says Cabanis, " at the 
 execution of Charlotte Corday, nor at any other, for I 
 could not have supported such a spectacle; but several 
 persons of my acquaintance followed from the Conciergerie 
 to the scaffold the cart which conveyed this woman who, 
 
 * Related by an eye-witness, Harmans (de la Meuse). 
 
170 dtttiou)^ f&i)paii}^ of ^movi). 
 
 notwithstanding the evils of which she was the cause or 
 of which she had at least given the signal deserved 
 commiseration. 
 
 "They witnessed her admirable calmness on the way, 
 and the majesty of her demeanour at the last moment. 
 A medical friend of mine did not lose sight of her for a 
 single minute. He has always assured me that her grave 
 and simple serenity was always the same ; she grew 
 slightly pale at the foot of the scaffold ; but it was but 
 for a moment, and her handsome face soon shone forth 
 in renewed beauty." 
 
 * 
 
 Sanson vainly sought to hide the view of the guillotine 
 from her, but impelled by a movement of feminine curios- 
 ity, Charlotte leaned forward to look. At the sight of 
 the instrument she slightly trembled. But it was but 
 momentary, and after having mounted the steps of the scaffold 
 she showed no sign of fear, and gained the fatal platform. 
 
 Sanson roughly pulled off her neck-handkerchief which 
 covered her shoulders, thus exposing her neck: a sudden 
 access of shame reddened her cheeks. She bowed to the 
 people surrounding the fatal machine and endeavoured to 
 pronounce a few words ; but time was not given her- 
 She was thrust on to the plank, the knife fell and the 
 head rolled down. It- was then that one of Sanson's 
 assistants according to Michelet, " a carpenter, an ardent 
 Maratist," named Legros, seizing in his hands the decapitated 
 head of Charlotte Corday, gave it a slap on the cheek. * 
 
 * Couet-Gironville asserts that the executioner's assistant Legros, 
 gave " two or three slaps " to the head of Charlotte Corday. 
 
 Other historians say that she received several buffets, without speci- 
 fying the number. 
 
%i}c ^cat>^ntan'^ f&n^ct 171 
 
 According to Doctor Siie : * " The face of the victim 
 which up to that moment was pale, had no sooner received 
 the slap from this cowardly cur, than both cheeks were 
 seen to redden ! All the spectators were struck with 
 this change of colour and immediately demanded, with 
 violent clamour, vengeance for such a cowardly and atro- 
 cious act of barbarity. 
 
 " It cannot be said that this reddening was the result 
 of the slap, for however sharply the cheeks of a corpse 
 may be smitten inmediately after death, they never redden ; 
 besides the slap was given but on one cheek, and it was 
 remarked that the opposite side blushed equally; this 
 fact alone proves evidently that after the decapitation 
 the brain and nerves still retained some traces of sensi- 
 bility " t 
 
 The opinion of Siie is worthy of consideration, for this 
 physiologist enjoyed, in his time a considerable amount 
 of credit in the scientific world. This opinion created a 
 great sensation at the time, backed up as it was by the 
 doctrines of a learned German, Scemering, on the same 
 subject. Scemering, and after him, his translator, (Eisner, 
 did not hesitate to assert that consciousness existed after 
 decapitation. 
 
 "Sentiment, personality, the Ego," wrote Scemering 
 from Frankfort, to the Editor of the Magasin eticyclopedique, 
 " still remain sentient for a certain time, and feel the 
 pain by which the neck has been affected," and he quoted 
 
 * The grandfather of the novelist. 
 
 t Magasin encyclopediqiie, vol. IV, p. 170. 
 
172 i^nvtou^ !SBl)^atp of ^^movih 
 
 in that connection such authorities as Haller, and Wei- 
 card, a celebrated German physician, " who had seen the 
 lips of a man whose head has just been cut off, move; " 
 of Leveling, " who had performed the experiment of 
 irritating the portion of the spinal marrow still adhering 
 to a detruncated head, and declared that the convulsions 
 of the head were horrible." 
 
 Cabanis,* who took a part in this scientific discussion 
 while expressing the utmost reserve with regard to the 
 fact itself, did not hesitate to declare that a person guillo- 
 tined " suffers neither in the limbs nor in the head : that 
 death is as rapid as the blow which gives it ; and that if 
 certain movements, regular, or convulsive, may be observed 
 in the muscles of the arms, or the legs, or the face, they 
 prove neither pain nor sensibility; they depend solely on 
 a remainder of the vital faculty that has not been yet 
 entirely annihilated in the muscles and their nerves, by 
 the death of the individual, the destruction of the Ego." 
 
 Dr. Leveille, then surgeon at the Hotel-Dieu of Paris, 
 refuting the opinions of Sue and of Soemering, deliber- 
 ately adopted that of Cabanis: 
 
 "The face of Ch. Corday reddened!" he says, "I don't 
 believe a word of it. I may perhaps admit the possibility 
 of this coloration, but I must seek an explanation else- 
 
 * Another medical man, of some fame in his time, also took a part 
 in this discussion. In 1796, Dr. Gastellier, wrote his Dissertation on 
 capital punishment hij the guillotine, (published at Sens, an IV, 1796, 
 in — 8vo). He would himself have suffered the fatal punishment he so 
 well described on the 17th Thermidor, had it not been for the death 
 of Robespierre, which very fortunately for him took place on the 9th. 
 
%f)c ^cat>^man'^ ©uffet* 173 
 
 where, which at once presents itself, and to me seems 
 purely mechanical. In reality, her head preserved, I will 
 not say its vital force, but certainly its vital heat; for it 
 is necessary to distinguish between the two modes of ex- 
 pression. The blood still in a fluid state contained in the 
 small capillary vessels, flows out freely, when its escape 
 is suddenly stopped by the violent impression of the hand. 
 This atrocious act brought together the inner walls of the 
 vessels, and the blood coming from above could not get 
 past the compressed part : it collected therefore in sufficient 
 quantity to cause a slight redness, which Mr. Sue, I think, 
 erroneously attributes, to a remainder of judgment and of 
 sensibility. The other cheek, it is asserted, reddened also. 
 Oh! here the observation has gone too far! I beg to be 
 allowed to give an absolute denial to this last statement. 
 In fact, I do not either believe in the first, which I was 
 perhaps wrong in endeavouring to explain." * 
 
 What may appear still more extraordinary, was that in 
 certain circles the question was seriously discussed, whether 
 the face had reddened from pain or from indignation. At 
 all events the following statement was made by a con- 
 temporary . . . . f 
 
 * A thing which seems surprising is the silence of Guillotin. There 
 is nowhere to be found the least documentary evidence of his having 
 taken part in this controversy. And yet his invention was in question, 
 or rather the consequences of his invention, and one cannot but ask 
 why he did not interfere. How is his silence to be explained ? Is it 
 to be supposed that he had fallen into such a state of physical and 
 moral decrepitude as no longer to take any interest in the grave 
 events taking place before his eyes? 
 
 t Gr. Duval, Souvenirs de la Terreur, Paris, Werdet, ed., 1842. 
 
174 envious fBijpaii)^ of ^movi). 
 
 .. ."It is a long accepted fact that the executioner gave 
 a slap to the head of Charlotte Corday, while he held it 
 up before the people, and that the head was seen to redden, 
 some say from pain, others from indignation; people are 
 not agreed on the subject. I, who was at the entry of 
 the Champs-Elysees, and therefore at a very short distance 
 from the scaffold, saw nothing of the incident. Mind, I 
 am careful not to deny the fact; I merely say that I did 
 not see it. 
 
 " I may add that none of my neighbours saw it either, and 
 it was only some days later that the report circulated in Paris. 
 I do not know who invented it, or if you prefer, who first 
 related it. With regard to the redness caused by pai?i or 
 indignation, I leave it to physiologists to decide to what 
 degree a head severed from the body can suffer the physical 
 feeling of pain, and what would be still more extraor- 
 dinary, the moral sentiment of indignation\ 
 
 " What I say on the subject will not prevent this buffet 
 on a dead cheek being recorded in history as an authentic 
 fact, but I still adhere to my statement." * 
 
 Sanson was accused of having been guilty of this 
 sacrilege ; but he hastened to deny it in a letter published 
 in the newspapers. He said that the buffet was given by 
 one of the carpenters who had put up the scaffold. 
 
 Notwithstanding this protest from the executioner, after 
 
 * Perhaps it was only, as Michelet suggests, a reflection of the sun 
 which at this instant caused such an extraordinary effect; or are we 
 to accept another version concerning this strange fact, which I find 
 in a letter written on the day following the execution, by a person 
 who had evidently heard nothing about this legendary detail, who 
 says : '"' The executioner's hands were covered with blood ; and he 
 left their impress on the ckeaks of the decapited head." Marie- Anne- 
 Charlotte de Corday d'Armont, by Cheron de Villiers, pp. 407 — 408. 
 
%f)c ^crt^j^mcitt*^ f&nf^ct 175 
 
 the 9th Thermidor, there could be seen for sale on the 
 quays, an engraving representing poor Sanson holding the 
 head of Charlotte Corday with one hand, while with the 
 other he gave it a slap! 
 
 Although he used his utmost efforts to refute this 
 imputation, the memory of Sanson will long remain sullied 
 by this stain. 
 
 After all, it matters little: this odious act could add 
 but little to his sad notoriety. * 
 
 * The following hitherto unpublished letter from Sergent-Marceau, 
 for which we have to thank Mr. Begis, shows that the act of the 
 executioner was far from being generally approved. 
 
 " Citizen Sergent to the President of the Criminal Tribunal Extra- 
 ordinary, sitting in Paris at the Palace of Justice the 13th July, in 
 the year II of the Republic, 
 
 " Citizen, 
 
 " Among the ancient nations who were distinguished by a wise legis- 
 lation, the criminals condemned to capital punishment were treated 
 with respect when they were brought to suffer the penalty decreed 
 by law. Our neighbours of England, who have given us examples 
 worthy to be followed in criminal legislation, forbade the executioner 
 the right to raise his hand upon the condemned man delivered unto 
 him. The philosophy of humanity taught them that he who by the 
 sacrifice of his life was about to give to society a great example of 
 the respect due to the law, then became a being unhappily sacred. 
 The people of Paris, so much calumniated, has also this character, and 
 if any particular sentiment attracts it to the tribunals or to assist at 
 the passing of criminals or to the foot of the scaffold, a majestic 
 silence, interrupted only by the cry of vive la Republique at the moment 
 when it sees the head of a conspirator fall, fully announces that it 
 knows how to respect the man that is to suffer the penalty of the law. 
 Let us preserve this delicacy which does honour to the people ; for it 
 is for that purpose that the legislators have abolished torture and the 
 horrible penalties of the wheel and the stake. 
 
 " But yesterday, the man who is appointed to exercise the painful 
 
176 O^ttviott)^ f&i)paii)^ of ^moti). 
 
 functions of executing your sentences was guilty in presence of the 
 people, of reprehensible acts upon the mortal remains of the monster 
 who had taken the life of one of the representatives of the nation. 
 The people had seen that woman pass, had escorted her to the scaffold 
 without insulting her last moments. Inwardly it ajjplauded the sent- 
 ence condemning her to the penalty due to her crime, and the more 
 its indignation was strong and legitimate against this unhappy crea- 
 ture, the more did its calm attitude and countenance render it proud 
 and generous. The people here again thwarted its enemies by the 
 nobility of its conduct. How was it that the citizen charged with the 
 execution of the law should have allowed himself to provoke excesses, 
 by adding to the penalty outrages that nothing can excuse? Mag- 
 nanimous people! Thou wishest only severe justice, no pardon, no 
 mercy to traitors, nor to their accomplices, but thou seekest no base 
 vengeance, which could but sully it. 
 
 "Vengeance is indicative of weak and ferocious sonls, and thou art 
 invincible and good! 
 
 " I demand of the Tribunal to repair the outrage made to nature, 
 and philosophy, by that executioner who while exhibiting to the 
 people, as required by law, the head of the girl Corday, permitted 
 himself to bestow buifets upon it. 
 
 " This act, which would be disgusting on the part of another citizen, 
 has appeared criminal to many persons when committed by the officer 
 charged to scrupulously execute your sentences and the law. I there- 
 fore demand that he be publicly censured before the people at one 
 of your sittings, and that you enjoin him to be more circumspect 
 in future. 
 
 Your fellow-citizen 
 Sekgent 
 Deputy to the National Convention." 
 
THE 
 
 LAST INDIGNITY 
 
 IN THE HANDS OF THE 
 
 "CHARCUTIERS; 
 
 12 
 
IV. THE AUTOPSY OF CHARLOTTE CORDAY. 
 
 E have seen by what insinuations it has been 
 sought to sully the memory of Charlotte Corday. 
 We do not in the least degree plead extenuating circum- 
 stances for the crime she committed and which, according 
 to our judgment is inexcusable, but we profess too great 
 a respect for historical truth not to sacrifice to it our 
 own prejudices or opinions. 
 
 The day after the execution of Charlotte Corday, the 
 strangest reports had circulated. Not only were numerous 
 lovers attributed to the heroine but the most odious asser- 
 tions were launched against her. 
 
 We find an echo of these in a number of a journal of 
 the period, the Afjiches et Annonces et Avis divers, published 
 at Caen, reproducing a letter dated from Paris the 16th 
 July, the eve of the execution. 
 
 The following short extract will suffice to give an idea 
 of the tone: 
 
 " As she (Ch. Corday) no doubt presumes that the 
 provincial forces will be in possession of Paris before the 
 end of a month, and that if her head does not now fall 
 
 179 
 
180 i^nvlou^ m)pam of ^^mott). 
 
 beneath the fatal knife, she will preserve her life, or 
 i-ather that she will not allow her persecutors to sacrifice 
 to their vengeance even the fruit she bears in her ivomb, 
 she has just now declared that she is four months gone 
 with child ..." 
 
 Now, according to all appearances, the unfortunate 
 woman was a virgin ! We say : according to all appear- 
 ances, for a decisive document, which would settle the 
 matter, is wanting: the official report on the autopsy has 
 up to the present eluded all search, and in the absence of 
 that document we can have nothing more than presump- 
 tions. All that we know at all precise, is that, according 
 to a contemporary biographer, * the body of Charlotte 
 Corday had been conveyed to one of the Paris hospitals — 
 the Charite perhaps — to be examined. 
 
 Two doctors were charged with the operation. The 
 report they drew up existed a few years ago, in a curious 
 collection belonging to a distinguished physician, f It is 
 not known what has since become of it. 
 
 We have in vain searched among the papers left by 
 Vatel, the most complete biographer of Charlotte Corday, 
 without succeeding in finding this precious document. In 
 the absence of this testimony, which would have been 
 decisive this is what we have discovered. 
 
 Under the title of Lonographie we met with the descrip- 
 tion of a drawing, representing: Charlotte Cordaij after 
 
 * Mr. Caille, advocate before the Royal Court of Paris, born at Caen 
 tbe 2nd April 1767, son of Caille des Fontaines, advocate. 
 
 t Cherou de Villiers, loc. cit. p. 411. The work is dated 1865. 
 
^i)e ^a^t ^nt>i^n\tih 181 
 
 her execution, 17th July 1793, an assembly of doctors 
 attesting her virginity; N. fecit (sic). Then follows the 
 description of the drawing: 
 
 " The body, extended on a plank, is supported by two 
 wooden props. The head has been replaced above the 
 trunk; the arras are pendant; the body is still enveloped 
 in a white gown the top of which is reddened with blood. 
 A personage holding in one hand a light and in the other 
 an instrument (a sort of speculum?) seems to be occupied 
 in removing the garments from the body. Four other 
 persons stoop and examine attentively. At the head of 
 the corpse stand two other persons, one of whom appears 
 to wear a tricoloured sash ; the other extends his hands 
 as if saying : ' Here is the body, look.' " 
 
 It may be that the artist meant to indicate two mem- 
 bers of the municipality while the other persons assisting 
 were doctors! 
 
 They are all wearing cocked-hats, broad skirted coats 
 with facings, and top-boots. 
 
 There is also a fellow drawing to this one, evidently by 
 the same artist, representing the fatal toilet; unfortunately 
 it is also anonymous. 
 
 To this iconographical testimony must be added the 
 following printed documents, which however are not very 
 conclusive. 
 
 Harmand (de la Meuse), in his Anecdotes sur la Revo- 
 lution, * writes this memorable phrase : " The medical 
 men think they have discovered in the physical constitu- 
 tion of Mdlle de Corday a quite particular cause for the 
 mental excitement necessary to impel her to commit a 
 
 * This book was not published until 1824, and offers no guarantee 
 of accuracy. (Note of Vatel). 
 
182 ^ttvtou^ m)paii)^ of ^m0t% 
 
 murder. This physical cause may be called moral chastity. " 
 Restif de la Bretonne, so greedy of such details, did 
 not fail on this occasion to go and see : " The monster, 
 said he, was a maiden, virtuous with the virtue of women, 
 that is to say, she was chaste.^ 
 
 It has been written that David the painter wished also 
 to assure himself that Charlotte Corday was a virgin. 
 This fact was first noted in the following passage taken 
 from the Almanack des gens de hien : * " After she had 
 been executed, David, member of the National Convention, 
 accompanied by some of his colleagues and by a surgeon, 
 examined the corpse of the unfortunate young girl, expect- 
 ing to find traces of loose conduct : but he was disappointed 
 in his expectations; he convinced himself that she was a 
 virgin." f 
 
 Another work which appeared about the same time, § 
 publishes, in nearly the same terms, a similar version : 
 
 " To others, and in particular to Fouquier-Tinville, who 
 ironically asked how many children she had given birth 
 to, she replied, ** blushing: " I have already told you, that 
 I have never been married ..." 
 
 * Paris, Picard, bookseller, Rue de Thionville. [Calendrier pour V an 
 de grace, 1795, p. 35.) Anecdotes pour servir a Vhistoire, etc, p. 35. 
 
 t Note in the Vatel papers, 
 
 § Portraits des personnages celebres de In Revolution, by Francis 
 Bonneville, with historical table and note by P. Quenard, one of the 
 delegates of the Commune in 1789 and 1790, to be had of the author 
 at Paris, rue du Theatre Fran«jais, 1769, year IV of the Republic. 
 Vol, II, 45th portrait. See also : Mathon de la Varenno, Les crimes de 
 Marat, an III, p. 122. 
 
 ** This question isrot recorded in the examination; it could not have 
 
%f)c ^a^t ^nt>\^n\it). 
 
 183 
 
 " Sacrilegious persons wished to convince themselves ; 
 they examined her mortal remains. She was a virgin ! . . . " 
 
 None of these witnesses could be suspected of partial- 
 ity towards Charlotte Corday. Nearly all of them may 
 be counted among the most fanatical partisans and ad- 
 mirers of Marat. Would not this circumstance alone 
 justify us in considering this evidence as absolutely trust- 
 worthy ? 
 
 been published by reason of its nature; but some of the newspapers 
 of the period asserted that Charlotte Corday had given birth to children. 
 (Note by Mr. Vatel.) 
 
A CURIOUS 
 
 ANTHROPOLOGICAL NOTE 
 
 CONCERNING 
 
 OUR HEROINE'S SKULL. 
 
V. THE SKULL OF CHARLOTTE CORDAY. 
 
 isTORiANS are generally agreed as to the place 
 where Charlotte Corday was buried. 
 
 After, the execution her body was taken to the ceme- 
 tery of the Madeleine, situated in the Rue d'Anjou-Saint- 
 Honore. Her remains were deposited in pit No. 5, between 
 that known as No. 4, containing the remains of the king, 
 and pit No. 6, which not long afterwards received those 
 of the ex-duke of Orleans. 
 
 Notwithstanding that the whole neighbourhood was 
 infected by the putrefaction of the bodies buried there, 
 it was not until February 1794 that Mr. Descloseaux, 
 who had become owner of the ground, could obtain the 
 closing of this cemetery. Most of the bodies were 
 removed to Monceau, and the ancient cemetery was trans- 
 formed into a pleasure-garden. * 
 
 * This may perhaps serve to explain the following passage in the 
 very interesting novel, Le Roman de Dumouriez, by Mr. Welschinger, 
 who is so very exact in his historical researches: "It appears that 
 at the extremity of the faubourg called la Petite Pologne (Little Poland), 
 now the quarter of the Pare Monceau, at the angle formed by the 
 
 187 
 
188 (^nvi0u^ S^lj^dtp Of ^movt). 
 
 Mr. Descloseaux was careful to mark with crosses and 
 even to surround with railings the tombs of the nobler 
 victims of the Revolution. * 
 
 Cheron de Villiers, who has devoted a very closely 
 written volume to the biography of Charlotte Corday, 
 asserts that it was not until 1804 that Mr. Descloseaux 
 had a cross planted on Charlotte's grave, and that her 
 remains were exhumed in 1815 and removed to the ceme- 
 tery of Montparnasse. f 
 
 This is the first error that we have noticed in the work 
 that has been compiled with much care and from which 
 we admit having borrowed some few extracts, which we 
 however subjected to careful verification. But in order 
 to be doubly sure we applied to the chief guardian in 
 person of the Montparnasse cemetery to know if he could 
 confirm the statement given by Mr. Cheron de Villiers. 
 We here transcribe his answer word for word as we 
 received it. 
 
 " Our registers do not contain the slightest indication 
 that the remains of Charlotte Corday ever found a resting- 
 place in the cemetery confided to my charge. See how- 
 ever, Mr. Cafford, Chief of the Municipal Interment service, 
 who will be able to give you more positive information." 
 
 Rue du Rocher and the Rue de Valois(?), in a piece of ground form- 
 ing a long square, the body of Charlotte Corday was buried. A few 
 days later, there was deposited next to her the body of Adam Lux. 
 Thus they were united in death." Le Roman de Dumouriez, p. 167 
 (Note). 
 
 * De Montegremar, Charlotte Corday, p. 128. 
 
 t Marie-Anne Charlotte de Corday d'Armont, by Cheron de Villiers, 
 p. 412. 
 
^l^e BfuU of (^i)avi0iic ^ovbalj* 1S9 
 
 Having visited this gentleman, he very obligingly, in 
 answer to our question, gave us the following information : 
 
 "The bodies of those guillotined on the Place de la 
 Revolution were buried in the cemetery of the Madeleine. 
 It is highly probable that Charlotte Corday was interred 
 there. How long the body remained there it is beyond 
 my power to state. At any rate, it could not have been 
 removed to Montparnasse in 1815, as Cheron de Villiers 
 has asserted, because the cemetery of Montparnasse teas 
 not opened until 1824." 
 
 " And what do you think of that other assertion of 
 Cheron de Villiers ? " we asked at the same time quoting 
 to Mr. Cafford the following extract from the book men- 
 tioned above : " The Saint- Albin family, who were related 
 to the de Corday family, obtained permission to retain 
 possession of the skull of the unfortunate victim." 
 
 "To that point," replied Mr. Cafford, "I cannot reply 
 with such certainty. If the autopsy took place as you 
 say you can prove, * it is extremely probable that any 
 particular part of the body may have been abstracted, 
 but here I repeat, I cannot speak wich any certainty. " 
 
 What Mr. Cafford could not tell us, we fully expected 
 to learn elsewhere : and we therefore presumed that 
 the present possessor of the skull of Charlotte Corday 
 would hasten to relieve our uncertainty. But the actual 
 possessor of the relic. Prince Roland Bonaparte, (a) is 
 not easy of access, and notwithstanding numerous letters 
 and visits, we could not succeed in meeting him. 
 
 What we desired to obtain from Prince Roland was 
 not only the favour of holding in our hands for a few 
 
 * See preceding chapter. 
 
 (rt) Well known as a man of science and enlightened amateur. 
 
190 ©utiou)^ f&t)paif)^ of ^mott). 
 
 moments the historical skull of which he is the possessor : 
 the thing in itself is no doubt not devoid of interest; but 
 as it appeared in the anthropological section of the retro- 
 spective Exhibition of the liberal Arts in 1889, all details 
 concerning it are known. Learned men, such as Topinard, 
 Lombroso, Benedikt, have studied, handled and measured 
 it in every possible way, and it is easy to find in the 
 scientific reviews the record of the discussion to which 
 this anatomical fragment gave rise. * 
 
 What was far more important to us, and what we 
 wanted to ask Prince Roland Bonaparte to show us, were 
 the certificates which it was said indisputably established 
 the authenticity of the skull, f 
 
 Prince Roland, instead of receiving us, sent a reply 
 through his secretary, in which he informed us that the 
 relic had come to him from Mr. George Duruy, and that 
 if that gentleman consented to communicate its history, 
 he, for his part, could see no reason to object. 
 
 Mr. George Duruy at once placed himself at our dis- 
 posal § with a readiness that we are happy to acknowledge, 
 and without the least hesitation gave us his opinion con- 
 cerning the relic which he had ceded, without much regret, 
 to the Prince who seemed so proud of its possession. 
 
 " T must warm you," said this amiable gentleman, that 
 
 * For the details of this discussion, see V Anthropologic, 1890, vol. 
 I., N". I; and the Revue Scientifiqite of the same year (article of Mr. 
 Lombroso and reply by Mr. Topinard). 
 
 t G. Lenotre, Paris r^volutiontiaire, p. 254. 
 
 § The conversation with Mr. G. Duruy took place on the 10th 
 November 1895. 
 
^i)e ^tnU of ©Oarlotte (S^otrbatj. I9i 
 
 in the matter of history my chief and only care — and you, 
 who are an historian will understand me— is the search 
 for truth, and to bring it to light I do not hesitate to 
 state my firm convictions. 
 
 " Well ! I must tell you without hesitation that there is 
 nothing to prove that the skull I gave to Prince Roland, 
 after he had expressed an intense desire to have it, is 
 really the skull of the angel of assassination .... 
 
 " How did it come into my hands ? Oh I simply enough. 
 
 " One day, paying a visit to a relation of mine, Mme. 
 Rousselin de Saint- Albin, I perceived through the half- 
 opened door of a cupboard, a skull! 
 
 "'Hullo! What's that?' 
 
 " * That, why it's the skull of Charlotte Corday ! ' 
 
 " 'And you leave it there at the back of a cupboard?' 
 
 " ' It is probable that if I were to put it in full view 
 on a sideboard my visitors might pull a long face, and 
 besides, it would not be a very pleasant sight for my 
 children.' 
 
 " ' But how did you get it ? And what evidence have 
 you that it is indeed the skull of Charlotte Corday?' 
 
 " ' I inherited it from my husband, Rousselin de Saint- 
 Albin, who used always to assure me that it was Char- 
 lotte's skull. It is a tradition preserved in the family. 
 That is all I can tell you. Mr. Rousselin firmly believed 
 it to be the skull of Charlotte Corday and I have no reason 
 to doubt his word.' 
 
 " 'Yes, but you must admit that your belief does not 
 settle the question. Are there any proofs? ' 
 
 " ' There are,' she replied, ' documents connected with 
 the skull, which prove its authenticity.' 
 
 " My venerable relative then handed me some papers that 
 
192 (S^miou^ m)paif)^ of ^moti). 
 
 were 'n the famous cupboard. As far as I can recollect, 
 there was nothing very precise in them. 
 
 " In one of these documents, R. de Saint-Albin related 
 how he had purchased the skull from a dealer of curios- 
 ities on the Quai des Grands Augustins, who had himself 
 bought it at a sale. * It came, he added, from a fervent 
 
 * May it not have been at the Denon sale ? We have found indeed, 
 subsequently to our visit to Mr. Duruy, whilst searching among the 
 unpublished Vatel papers, preserved in the Library at Versailles, the 
 following curious note : " With regard to Charlotte Gorday, a friend 
 of mine, a man of letters and deputy, possesses in his study the 
 authentic head of this heroine. This skull belonged originally to the 
 learned Denon, of the Institute, who had obtained it from the execu- 
 tioner. 1 can testify as to its authenticity. (Signed) Bordet." (Letter 
 addressed to Mr. Coesnard from Pont-Leveque, the 29th October 1861). 
 
 This would be at least a presumption in favour of the authenticity 
 of the skull. And yet, is it not rather astonishing that not the 
 slightest mention of it is made either in the Memoirs of Sanson, 
 apocryphal or not, or in the carefully written notice, placed at the 
 beginning of the edition of the engravings of Vivant-Denon, and due 
 to the erudite pen of M. A. de la Fizeliere? Nor does it appear in the 
 catologue of the sale of that eminent amateur's collection. 
 
 If the skull of Charlotte Corday had appeared at all in this cata- 
 logue of the Denon sale, it could only have been under the number 
 646 of the Description of art-objects belonging to the collection of the 
 late Baron Denon (Paris, Tilliard, 1826). 
 
 Herewith we. give, as a curiosity, the detailed description of this 
 article of the catalogue : N". 646, Copper gilt. — A reliquary of hexag- 
 onal form and Gothic work, flanked at the angles by six turrets, con- 
 nected by buttresses with a top-piece composed of a little edifice 
 surmounted by a cross : the two principal faces of this reliquary are 
 each divided into six compartments, containing the following objects : 
 
 Fragments of the bones of the Cid and of Chiraene, found in their 
 sepulture at Burgos. — Fragments of the bones of Heloise and Abelard, 
 taken from their tomb at the Paraclete. — Hair from the head of Agnes 
 Sorel, interred at Loches, and of Ines de Castro, at Alcabo9a.— Part 
 
%f)c Sfua of Mf)aviotU ($ott>a\). 193 
 
 admirer of Charlotte Corday, who had been able to have 
 her remains exhumed and had kept the skull, I cannot 
 exactly recall to mind the expressions used by R. de 
 Saint- Albin, but I at least give you their meaning. Prince 
 Roland might, if he liked, * show you all the documents 
 
 of the moustache of Henri IV, King of France, found when the bodies 
 of the Kings of France were disinterred in 1793 at Saint-Denis. — 
 Portion of the shroud of Turenne. — Fragments of the bones of Moliere 
 and of de La Fontaine. — Hair from the head of General Desaix. 
 
 Two of the side panels of the box are filled, the one with the auto- 
 graph signature of Napoleon, the other with a portion of the blood- 
 stained shirt, which he wore when he died, a lock of his hair and a 
 branch of the willow-tree overshadowing his grave at Saint-Helena. — 
 Lastly a gold ring, " in which is encased the half of one of Voltaire's 
 teeth." Probably that which he had against Fr^ron. (a) 
 
 The catalogue enumerates also, under other numbers, several casts 
 taken from the faces of historical personages : Cromwell, Charles XII 
 of Sweden, Robespierre, Canova; a medallion, modelled from life, re- 
 presenting a portrait of Marat, the completion of which was prevented 
 by his assassination by Charlotte Corday : this medallion was the work 
 of Droz; a lock of hair, cut from the head of General Desaix, previ- 
 ous to his burial in the convent of the monks of Mount Saint Bernard, 
 in 1805. 
 
 But in all this enumeration we find nothing relating to the skull 
 of Charlotte Corday. 
 
 (rt) To have a tooth against some one, means in French to have a 
 grudge against him. [TransL) 
 
 * Prince Roland Bonaparte, being consulted on this subject by a 
 reporter of the Eclair, made the following statement: 
 
 " Alas!" said his Highness, "I do not possess the certificates alluded 
 to by Dr. Cabanes. 
 
 * One day my friend Duruy offered me a skull which he said was 
 that of Charlotte Corday. He appeared," added the Prince laughing. 
 " not to be sorry to get rid of this anatomical specimen which seemed 
 rather to frighten Mme. Duruy. 
 
 " He added a manuscript note in which he said that the skull had 
 been given to him by Mme. Rousselin de Saint- Albin, who herself had 
 
 13 
 
194 O^^uvtou^ ^t)paU}^ of ^yt^iovt). 
 
 I put into his hands when I gave him the skull ; among 
 others, there was a manuscript written by the same 
 Rousselin, a sort of philosophical dialogue between him- 
 self, Saint-Albin, and the skull of Charlotte, which was 
 extremely comical : Saint-Albin therein evokes the soul of 
 the avengeress and seeks to discover the motive which 
 impelled her to commit the crime ! . . . 
 
 " You might have supposed that Rousselin de Saint-Albin 
 had obtained from Danton, whose secretary he was, * 
 authority to have the head of the heroine given to him 
 
 received it from her husband, who had always sincerely believed that 
 it had belonged to the 'Norman maid.' 
 
 " As for Rousselin de Saint-Albin, there is no doubt that he always 
 believed in its authenticity, as may be testified by the following 
 anecdote, related to me by one of his friends. 
 
 " The father of this friend of his, then a minister of Louis Philippe, 
 was one day invited to dine by Rousselin de Saint-Albin, who puzzled 
 him considerably by promising him that there would be at table a 
 great lady of the Revolution. At the dinner-hour the minister came ; 
 the guests entered the dining-room. No signs of the great lady ! But 
 underneath his table-napkin, my friend's father discovered a skull: it 
 was that of Charlotte Corday, so the host affirmed. 
 
 "Unfortunately", continued his Highness, " there exist no conclusive 
 proofs of the authenticity of the skull in my possession. Besides, it 
 is not possible that any such should exist; for whatever number of 
 certificates I might be able to produce, they could establish no cer- 
 tainly. An absolute proof cannot possibly exist, and we must content 
 ourselves with the tradition. 
 
 " Further, even anthropological science leaves a large margin for 
 doubt. For instance: in 1869 I showed the skull of Charlotte Cordaj- 
 to five phrenologists, without letting them know its origin, asking 
 them if it was the skull of a criminal. Three of them answered 
 affirmatively and the other two said, no: which are we to believe?" 
 
 * He was afterwards secretary to Bernadotte. See Biographies! de 
 Michaud et de Didot. 
 
%f)c ^tnU 0f i^ffatloiU (^ottxit). 195 
 
 after her execution. But he became, as you see, possessed 
 of the relic in quite a different manner." 
 
 " But how did Prince Roland know that you had it in 
 your possession . . . ? " 
 
 " A few years ago, I met the Prince, who at that time 
 took a great deal of interest in craniology. He pretended 
 to be able, by the inspection of the cranium, to discover 
 the sentiments of the person to whom it belonged. It 
 was simply the doctrine of Gall grafted on modern 
 anthropology. 
 
 "What if I were to show you," said I, "the skull of a 
 murderer, or of a murderess? And for a little time I 
 amused myself teasing him. However, to put an end to 
 his perpexity, I told him what it was. He admitted to me 
 that he did not consider himself quite competent to proceed 
 to inductions which might be rather risky on his part, 
 but he showed that it- would be to him a great pleasure 
 to add the skull of Charlotte Corday to his collection. 
 And it was in response to that wish that 1 gave it him." 
 
 It would appear from this declaration of Mr. George 
 Duruy that nothing proves that Prince Roland really pos- 
 sesses the skull of Charlotte Corday; and that in fact it 
 may quite as well be only an ordinary specimen from a 
 collection or from an anatomical museum. 
 
 The only thing which seems absolutely certain, according 
 to what is said by the anthropologists, is, that the skull 
 which figured at the Exhibition of 1885, had never remained 
 in the earth, nor had it been exposed to the air. 
 
196 (luttou^ ^t^patf)^ of ^mott). 
 
 And here arise, as Mr. Lenotre very judiciously observes, * 
 the following various hypotheses: Was there in 1793, a 
 fanatic wild enough to have dared to risk his life, by going 
 on the night after the execution to the grave-yard, to 
 disinter the head of the heroine? 
 
 * Mr. Lenotre, the well informed historian of Paris revolutiotitiaire, 
 has addressed a very interesting letter on this subject to our friend 
 Mr. G. Montorgueil : 
 
 " Is the skull of Charlotte Corday, now in the possession of Prince 
 Roland Bonaparte authentic or not? 
 
 " As you are good enough to mention my name, I answer Yes, I 
 believe in its authenticity. 
 
 * Proofs? I can give you none; but I can give you presumptions. 
 
 " One evening, during the reign of Louis Philippe, Saint-Albin had 
 invited to his table, under pretext of a sensational surprise, some 
 friends known to be curious about matters connected with the Revo- 
 lution. When dessert Avas put upon the table, he ordered a servant 
 to bring him a glass jar enclosed in a linen cloth : this was the sur- 
 prise, and indeed sensational enough, as may be readily imagined, for 
 the cover being lifted, the jar was seen to contain the head of Char- 
 lotte Corday. Not the skull, mind you, but the entire head preserved 
 in alcohol, with its flesh and hair . . . the eyes were half closed, 
 
 " It had remained in this state ever since 1793 ; but Saint-Albin 
 having decided to have it prepared — excuse these lugubrious details — 
 wished before that operation to show to his friends this affecting 
 spectacle. This explains why the anthropologists discovered that the 
 said skull had never sojourned in the earth nor been exposed to the air. 
 
 " Rousselin de Saint-Albin thought fit to say that he had bought it 
 from a dealer in curiosities. Well and good: but Saint-Albin knew 
 the ins and outs of many things, and like all those who know a 
 good deal, he said but little. He never would say through whom or 
 how the head of Charlotle Corday had come into his possession; 
 and that is all. Did not the father of Ledru-Rollin, have in his pos- 
 session important fragments of the bones of Louis XIV, of Henri IV 
 and of other Kings of France, given to him by an anonymous witness 
 of the violation of the royal tombs at Saint-Denis? 
 
 " The executioner Sanson, it is said, was not the kind of man to 
 
Xi)c muU of mjaiMU ^0vt>ai). 19 7 
 
 Or elso, are we to believe that somebody had bought 
 this bloody souvenir from the headsman himself? 
 
 Or, what is more probable, must we accept a tradition 
 constantly denied, and having up to the present only the 
 
 lend himself to such a profanation? Is that quite certain? Has not 
 the Sanson family its own secret, like all those intimately connected 
 with the Revolution? Sanson was credited with being anything but 
 partial to the Government he was actively serving : he may have 
 rendered many services, have concluded many bargains, and have 
 traded a little on the guillotine. Yes, traded ! For his descendants 
 were wealthy: the story of the guillotine being pawned in 1847 by 
 his grandson, over head and ears in debt, is nothing more than a fable. 
 Finding no possibility of being relieved from his functions, the last 
 of the Sansons hit upon a pretext to provoke his dismissal. That is 
 the plain truth. But he was far from being in low circumstances, the 
 proof of which is that his daughter married, under a transparent 
 pseudonym, a gentleman well noted in Parisian society . . . Guess if 
 you can. 
 
 " Leaving the executioner aside, if he did not dispose of heads, 
 who sold them? For heads were sold! One evening in 1793, a 
 woman fainted in the Rue Saint Florentin ; («) she fell down ; a parcel 
 which she carried in her apron rolled into the gutter ; it was a human 
 head recently cut off. On enquiry, it turned out that the woman had 
 just come from the cemetery of the Madeleine, where the head had 
 been handed to her by one of the grave-digger.v. 
 
 " The anecdote created some sensation at the time and became the 
 subject of an engraving. 
 
 " And as for locks of hair of the condemned ! . . . . they became the 
 object of a trade which drew the attention of the Commune of Paris. 
 It must be remembered: that this was taking place in 1793; these 
 dreadful things were a custom of the time. Did not Danton have the 
 body of his wife exhumed that he might once more see the loved one 
 who had died while he was in Belgium ! This fact was published by 
 Michelet without proof, it is true, and denied, as I well know. But 
 
 (a) A few steps from the Place de la Revolution (now Place de la 
 Concorde), where stood the Guillotine. {Trans.) 
 
198 ^ttHott)^ mjpaii)^ of ^i)§totl). 
 
 value of an idle tale, and according to which, the Govern- 
 ment of the day is supposed to have ordered the body of 
 Charlotte to be taken to the dissecting-room to be care- 
 fully examined; can we not then suppose that the head 
 might have been prepared by one of the surgeons and 
 preserved by him as a curious specimen? * 
 
 No doubt all these hypotheses have their respective 
 share of probability; but, as for the truth, who will ever 
 reveal it to us ? . . . 
 
 I can supply you with the proof: open the catalogue of the Salon 
 of 1793, and you will find under Sculpture the following mention : 
 Bust of the citizeness Danton, exhumed eight days after her death; 
 the cast taken from the corpse by Citizen Descine, a deaf-mute. 
 
 " To conclude, I do not know whether the skull now in the possession 
 of Prince Bonaparte, is authentic, but what may be safely asserted 
 is, that nothing, either in the facts themselves, nor in the manners 
 of the period, nor in the habits of those who may have contributed 
 to preserve this relic, are contrary to its authenticity. 
 
 G. Lenotbe." 
 
 As Mr. Montorgueil judiciously observes there is nothing to dis- 
 prove the authenticity of the relie, but there is nothing either to prove 
 it. And with regard to old bones, too many proofs are hardly proof 
 enough. 
 
 * G. Lenotre, Paris revolutionnaire, p. 255. 
 
THE PRIVATE LIFE 
 
 EOBESPIERRE. 
 
gt!c nmbttcsS is t^c glon) of tfjis life, 
 5l§ t^is ^om^ 3^oto§ to a Itttk oil, aiib root. 
 3a3e male oursclocs fools, to bistort our«cloe§, 
 5(nb spcitb our flatteries to briiif tfjosc titcn 
 Upon tu^ose age toe t)oib it u^ again 
 2Sit^ ))oisonou§ spite aub cuOij. 
 
 TiMON OF Athens, I, 2. 
 
THE PRIVATE LIFE OF ROBESPIERRE WHILE 
 RESIDING WITH THE DUPLAY FAMILY. 
 
 rsTORY is, so to speak, a prolonged law-suit in 
 which we are continually occupied in examining 
 the papers to discover flaws. It is often in minor details 
 that historians are convicted -jiagrante delicto of inaccuracy. 
 To stop at such trifles may perhaps seem to be like 
 exercising the right of criticism with a magnifying-glass 
 in hand; and yet, is not the respect for truth in details, 
 as it were, the surest mark of the historian's honesty? 
 
 Biographers principally, who make it a point of honour 
 to study a personage from numerous points of view, are 
 bound, more than any others, to preserve only evidence 
 about which no possible doubt can be raised. They must 
 at least inspire confidence themselves if they wish their 
 word to be believed. 
 
 This is not said for the purpose of annoying Mr. Ernest 
 Hamel, of whom it is justly said, that he is in a measure, 
 "An official historian of Robespierre." We must render 
 this justice to Mr. Hamel that he has made us more 
 thoroughly acquainted with his hero than any of the histor- 
 ians who preceded him. 
 
 201 
 
202 (S^nvlon^ m}pail)^ of ^mott). 
 
 His work, the result of much research, is full of start- 
 ling facts, piquant anecdotes, and unexpected revelations; 
 in one word, it is full of curious information. And yet, 
 Mr. Hamel, by not having "gone himself to see," has 
 sinned by omission; and what is more serious, has com- 
 mitted some errors. Not that the offence is particularly 
 grave, but it is so delightful to find in fault an author 
 who has written a book which he assumes to be " de- 
 finitive! "... Rather ask Mr. Sardou, that lucky ferretter 
 out of facts, that hunter of rare documents, what a supreme 
 pleasure there is in finding out the sins of the erudite. 
 
 As everybody knows, Mr. Sardou, has been for a long 
 time preparing a book on Thermidor. That is to say that 
 there is no one able to teach him anything new connected 
 with Robespierre. It was therefore quite natural to have 
 recourse to his inexhaustible kindness and to ask of him 
 for some information on the subject which interested us. 
 
 As usual, the eminent Academician received us with 
 courtesy mingled with good grace. 
 
 " You may flatter yourself with coming just in the 
 nick of time, said he at once. You propose to make a 
 study of the private life of Robespierre just before Ther- 
 midor, or in other words : Robespierre at the Duplays. 
 
 " Well ! You now find me quite joyful at a discovery I 
 have just made, and of which I am not a little proud: 
 You have everywhere read that the house in which 
 Robespierre passed the last days of his life had entirely 
 disappeared. It is my old college chum, Ernest Hamel, who 
 has put this legend into circulation, for it is but a legend. 
 
mohc^pUvu at ^ome. 203 
 
 " The house of Duplay, where Maximilian Robespierre 
 lodged, exists, and nothing is easier than to assure your- 
 self of the fact. Together with Mr. Th. Gosselin (our 
 colleague G. Lenotre) who will shortly publish a book on 
 Paris of the Revolution, I visited the lodging of the 
 incorruptible. 
 
 " The apartment is almost intact ; the room occupied by 
 Duplay, and those of his daughters are in a perfect state 
 of preservation, just as they were in 1794. With plan 
 and title-deeds in hand, I reconstructed everything again: 
 the raftered stair-cases, the little garden at the back of 
 the dining-room. On the strength of Mr. Lebas' assertion, 
 whose manuscript Hamel had had in his hands, the histor- 
 ian of Maximilien asserted that the house in question 
 had been demolished, 
 
 "Listen to what he says about it: 'It would be useless 
 to-day to seek for a vestige of this house ; not a stone 
 of it remains standing!' 
 
 " Nothing is more inaccurate. The house has been raised 
 a storey, that is all. But Hamel did not think it worth 
 while to trouble himself for so little. I was more curious 
 than he, and I do not regret it. Thanks to the obliging- 
 ness of the present owner, Mr. Vaury, 1 was able to 
 explore Duplay's house in every corner. 
 
 " I have seen the chamber in which the unsociable 
 Tribune— that is the word, — used to barricade himself. 
 Ah! it was not easy to get access to him; he was well 
 sheltered from troublesome visitors, look here ..." 
 
 And, saying this Mr. Sardou, with a few rapid strokes 
 of a pencil, drew up a plan of the house, and proved to 
 us in the clearest manner, that it was almost impossible 
 to reach the room in which Robespierre used to " earth" 
 
204 (lutiou^ fB\)paif)^ of ^pi^toti). 
 
 liimself without disturbing the entire household : the 
 children who slept in the next room, the joiners working 
 at the back, etc ... ^Lnd continuing his explanation of 
 the plan, Mr, Sardou continued : 
 
 " The windows of the room are the same as in '93. 
 The chimney-piece has been changed ; the partitions have 
 been taken down, but it is easy to reconstitute what has 
 disappeared. There is one fact to be noted, and which 
 sheds a particular light on the psychology of the man : 
 the room of Eleonore Duplay, who used to be called 
 Cornelie in intimacy, was situated at the other end of 
 the house. This simple detail suffices to explain the 
 nature of the relations that existed between Robespierre 
 and she who was in turn pointed out as his mistress or 
 as his betrothed. The topography of the place furnishes 
 us with an unanswerable argument in favour of the purity 
 of the morals of the tribune." * 
 
 Now that we are acquainted with the place, the moment 
 has perhaps come to introduce its inhabitants. And first 
 of all, how did Robespierre come to know the Duplay 
 family ? 
 
 Martial law had just been proclaimed at the Champ de 
 Mars. On that day, the 19th July 1791, Robespierre had 
 come to the meeting of the Jacobins, where a small 
 
 * This study appeared first in the literary Supplement of the F/^'aro 
 for the year 1894. It was only in the following February or March 
 of 1895 that the question arose between Messieurs Sardou and Hamel 
 about the hoit'^e of Robespierre. This question was in fact for us only 
 of minor importance; but in order to properly know the man, it was 
 necessary to say a few words about his lodging. 
 
9lohc^pUvvc at f^omc^ 205 
 
 number of the friends of freedom had assembled. The 
 court-yard, says an eye witness * front whom we borrow 
 the following: "The court-yard was soon filled with 
 artillery-soldiers and light infantry-men from the suburbs, 
 blind instruments of the fury of Lafayette and of his 
 partisans, Robespierre was trembling with fear as he 
 crossed that yard to return home after the meeting, and 
 hearing the imprecations and threats of the soldiers against 
 the Jacobins, he was obliged, in order to steady himself, 
 to take the arm of Lecointe, of Versailles, who wore the 
 uniform of the national guard, and of Lapoype, since then 
 General of division, at that time one of the Jacobins." 
 
 Robespierre did not dare to go home to sleep at No. 20 
 Rue Saintonge, where he resided at Humbert's, with Pierre 
 Villiers, who then acted as his secretary. He asked 
 Lecointe if he did not know any patriot; in the neigh- 
 bourhood of the Tuileries, who could give him shelter for 
 the night. Lecointe proposed Duplay's house, and took 
 him there. From that day forward he never quitted it. 
 
 The house of which Maurice Duplay was the owner was 
 No. 366, now 398, Rue Saint-Honore. It has been suffi- 
 ciently described by Hamel f so as to render further 
 details superfluous. Suffice it to say that Duplay with his 
 family occupied a retired building at the back of a court- 
 yard, comprising: a ground floor with a dining-room 
 opening out upon a garden; from the dining-room, a 
 
 * Note on Robespierre, by Freron, T^nhlished in the Notes historiques 
 of Mr. A Baudot, edited by Mme Edgard Quinet, 1894; L. Cerf, p. 
 277 and seq. 
 
 f Hamol, Histoire (Je Robespierre, t. Ill, p. 282. 
 
206 ^mxon^ m)patf)^ of ^movt). 
 
 wooden staircase led to the apartments above. Duplay 
 and his wife occupied a large room on the first floor, and 
 their four daughters were lodged just at the back of it. 
 Robespierre's room looked towards the west, and next to 
 him slept Simon Duplay, the nephew of the master of the 
 house, who acted as the dictator's secretary, and Duplay's 
 young son, Maurice, at that time barely fourteen years 
 of age. 
 
 To the right and left of the door-way leading into the 
 house, were two shops, one occupied by a restaurant, the 
 other by a jeweller. 
 
 This detail is little known : a brother of the secretary 
 of Condorcet kept, at No. 352 of the same street, on behalf 
 of Mme. de Condorcet, a small linen-draper's and mercer's 
 shop. The wife of the outlaw had on the entresol a studio 
 where she painted, portraits and miniatures and, as it 
 appears, her studio was particularly well frequented. * 
 
 Robespierre's, new landlord Maurice Duplay, was barely 
 over fifty, when he made the acquaintance of the dictator. 
 
 He was born in 1738 at Saint-Dizier-en-Velay, and was 
 the son of Jacques Duplay, and his wife, nee Marie 
 Bontemps. Ten children were born of this marriage. 
 Maurice followed the example of his eldest brother Mathieu, 
 and became a carpenter. Whilst still a youth, he quitted 
 Saint-Dizier-en-Velay (now St.-Dizier-la-Seauve in the 
 Haute Loire) and seems to have walked over the greater 
 part of France, before he finally settled down in Paris, 
 where thanks to some lucky speculations, he acquired a 
 respectable fortune. 
 
 It was not long before he became the proprietor of 
 
 * See in the Correspondence of 1889 an article by Mr. de Lescure 
 entitled: Les Femtnes 'pettdant la Revolution. 
 
mohc^picvu at ^ome. 207 
 
 three houses, situated in the Rue de I'Arcade, the Rue du 
 Luxembourg and the Rue d'Angouleme. For the house 
 he occupied in the Rue Saint-Honore he paid a sum down 
 of 1800 livres and a yearly rental of 200 livres to the 
 Sisters of the Conception, who were the owners. 
 
 Maurice Duplay had retired from business when the 
 Revolution broke out. He does not appear to have taken 
 any active part in the movement. 
 
 According to Lebas, * he had been called upon as a 
 householder to be a member of the jury of the common 
 criminal court, and he could not, notwithstanding his 
 aversion, refuse to sit on the jury of the Revolutionary 
 Tribunal. 
 
 It is not true that he was present at the trials of the 
 Queen and Madame Elisabeth, for he seldom exercised his 
 terrible functions. He often made the building work that 
 he had contracted to do for the Government an excuse 
 for non-attendance at the Tribunal. Most of the sentences 
 on which his name is recorded were rendered in his absence. 
 When Fouquier-Tinville was impeached, together with the 
 members of the jury of the revolutionary tribunal, Duplay 
 was the only one acquitted and indeed no serious charge 
 was brought against him. In fact, Duplay was a 
 thoroughly honest man. After forty years of work, he 
 had barely amassed 16000 livres in house property. Polit- 
 ical events soon disturbed to some extent the position 
 he had so laboriously acquired. 
 
 It being no longer possible to let houses, Duplay found 
 
 * Dictionnaire encyclopedique de la France, article Duplay. 
 
208 a^utlou)^ Sl)^atp of ^^m0t% 
 
 himself obliged to resume his trade. This we gather 
 from the rough draft of a letter from Mme. Duplay to her 
 daughter, Mme. Auzat, and which was found at Duplay's 
 house when it was searched during Thermidor. 
 
 Maurice Duplay had married the daughter of a carpenter 
 of Choisy (Mdlle. Vaugeois, imprisoned at Sainte Pelagic on 
 the evening of the 8th Thermidor, together with her 
 husband and her young son, and who was strangled by 
 some of the women her fellow prisoners. 
 
 Four daughters were born of this marriage: Sophie, 
 who became later on Mme. Auzat, by her marriage with 
 a barrister of that name ; Victoire, who did never marry ; 
 Elisabeth, born in 1773, who married in 1793 Lebas, a 
 member of the Convention, and to whom we shall have 
 occasion to refer; and lastly Eleonore, born in 1771, 
 surnamed Cornelie, in allusion to the mother of the Gracchi, 
 and who died during the Restoration. 
 
 Maurice Duplay had an only son: Maurice, born in 
 1769, First of all clerk in the central administration of the 
 department of the Seine, he was later on in 1814, appointed 
 administrator of the hospitals and asylums of Paris, which 
 post he continued to occupy nearly until his death, in 1846. 
 
 To complete the genealogy of the Duplay family, we 
 will say a few words concerning the descendants of 
 Mathieu Duplay the eldest of the family, and the brother 
 of Maurice, Robespierre's landlord. 
 
 Mathieu Duplay married in 1767, Marie Fournier, by 
 whom he had several children. Of these, one alone 
 deserves our attention; Simon Duplay, born in 1774, 
 enlisted as a volunteer in 1792, and who had his left 
 leg curried away by a cannon ball at the battle of Valmy, 
 from which came his nickname of "Wooden-leg." 
 
^0i>c^pictvc at ^onxc. 209 
 
 He was adopted by his uncle, and acted, as secretary 
 to Robespierre, who dictated all his letters, etc., to him. 
 It should be added that he was very badly paid, Robes- 
 pierre considering that he did him a great honour in 
 selecting him as his amanuensis. 
 
 After Thermidor, the nephew of Maurice Duplay was 
 arrested and his papers seized : another son, Auguste, died 
 early, and the last, born in 1836, is Dr. Duplay, member 
 of the Academy of Medicine and Professor of Clinical 
 Surgery to the Faculty of Medicine of Paris. 
 
 In these latter days, numerous publications have given 
 an insight into the private life of Robespierre while at 
 the Duplays. But, as usual, it is necessary to distinguish 
 the truth from among the many legends which obscure 
 it. " Everything about him, " says Buonarotti, " was equal- 
 ity, simplicity, morality, and sincere love of the people. 
 He was austere in morals, of extreme sobriety, living 
 quite retired, although much sought after in society." 
 
 Mme. Lebas says, in her manuscript, that he never 
 quitted her father's house but once, when he paid a visit 
 to his sister at Arras, probably in 1793. His sole recre- 
 ation, on the rare occasions when he went out, was to 
 take a walk in the Champs-Elysees, in the direction of 
 the Avenue Marboeuf, at that time a fashionable rendez-vous. 
 But he more frequently preferred to stop at home and 
 work. 
 
 The room he occupied at Duplay's was as simple as 
 possible. The furniture was quite modest. It was com- 
 posed of a walnut bedstead, with blue damask curtains, 
 
 14 
 
210 ^mion^ fB\}pam <>f ^i^iovi). 
 
 with white flowers, made of an old gown of Mr. Duplay, 
 a few cane- bottomed chairs and a common desk ; a deal 
 book-shelf suspended to the wall served him as library, 
 and contained, among other books, the principal works of 
 Corneille, Racine, Voltaire and Rousseau, — the dear com- 
 panions of his waking hours . . . This room had but 
 one window, looking on the workshops, so that, during 
 the day, Robespierre always worked to the sound of the 
 plane and the saw. * 
 
 Robespierre always rose early; and his first step was 
 to go into the shop to bid good morning to his landlord. 
 
 " He afterwards worked f for a few hours, taking no 
 other refreshment than a glass of water. No one was 
 then allowed to disturb him ; then, he had his hair dres- 
 sed and this operation usually took place in the court-yard, 
 in an open gallery leading out from his bed-room. Im- 
 mediately after this, numerous visitors came, since he had 
 become so popular. But to these he paid not the least 
 attention: being occupied with the perusal of the Gazette 
 and the periodicals of the day, and he then took his 
 breakfast, consisting of fruit, bread and a little wine. 
 When not reading, his eyes were fixed on the ground; 
 he often rested on his elbow, and seemed to reflect on 
 important matters. 
 
 " After breakfast he returned to his work, until his 
 public functions demanded his presence. He never received 
 any visitors in the morning, unless they choose to see 
 him while his hair was being dressed. He dined at his 
 landlord's table, and it was always he ivho said grace! 
 
 * Hamel, loc. cit., t. Ill, p. 286. 
 
 t These details are taken frora a book published in Berlin in 1794, 
 shortly previous to Thermidor, and dedicated to Robespierre himself. 
 
9l0ffc^puvvc at ^onxc. 211 
 
 "On one occasion, Mnie. Duplay having hinted that the 
 fare was perhaps not good enough for him, Robespierre 
 became quite vexed. He did not latterly pay any more 
 than he did at first, so that his landlord's family should 
 not contract bad habits; and, even during a time of 
 dearth, he did not pay them any more than usual, in 
 order to oblige them always to observe the same line of 
 conduct towards him. If he was invited out to dine he 
 did not forewarn them, in order that nothing should be 
 changed in their domestic arrangements. Willing however 
 that these worthy people, who had shared bad fortune 
 with hini; should have a part in the advantages of his 
 new situation, he did a good deal for their children. The 
 son, also a joiner, was set up in business by him, or at 
 all events he materially aided him ; as regards the daugh- 
 ter, he promised her a marriage present, on condition that 
 she should marry a citizen who had fought for his country. 
 
 "At table he partook of the simple fare of his host, and 
 drank his vin ordinaire. After dinner he had coffee served 
 him, remained another hour at home to receive visitors, 
 and then usually went out. After he became the leader 
 of the National Convention, he engaged a secretary; formerly 
 it was an orphan boy adopted by the Duplays, and who 
 used to do his errands. 
 
 " He came home extraordinarily late, and often worked 
 until past midnight at the ComiU de Salut Public; but even 
 when he did not go there, he never came home before 
 midnight. Where was he in the meanwhile? Nobody 
 knew. Those who wished to see him in the evening had 
 to wait until the following morning." 
 
 Perhaps this almost unknown description, borrowed from 
 a contemporary, may appear rather romantic. All is not 
 
212 ^tttiott^ m)paii}^ of ^t§toH)* 
 
 to be taken for granted without some reserve, * but 
 much information, not devoid of value, may be gleaned from 
 it. What the narrator says of the sobriety of Robespierre 
 is but a confirmation of what we know already. During 
 the last few years of his life, he drank water only, fearing 
 that the use of wine might lead him to make some indis- 
 creet revelations. 
 
 The only indulgence he allowed himself was to devour, 
 during his meal, a quantity of oranges. They were careful 
 to serve him for dessert a regular pile of this fruit; and 
 that in all seasons. He used to eat them greedily. 
 
 It was easy to see which place Robespierre had occupied at 
 table by the heap of orange-peel which covered his plate. 
 
 It has been asserted, and it is not of a nature to sur- 
 prise us, that Robespierre sought thereby to cool his blood, 
 which was full of acridity, and clear his complexion, ren- 
 dered sallow by the bile which choked him. Was his 
 aspect in reality so repugnant as some people have chosen 
 to assert? Or had his physiognomy, on the contrary 
 something seductive? It may be useful to elucidate this 
 question, before handling a rather delicate subject, to which 
 we have already briefly alluded : we refer to the nature of 
 his relations with the eldest daughter of Duplay. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 There exists but one portrait of Robespierre, represent- 
 ing him young, pleasantly plump, with the air of a hard 
 
 * Mr. G. Avenel, to whom we owe the translation of the pamphlet 
 from which we have taken an extract (V. Amateur d' autographed, 
 1862—63) does not hesitate to say that it deserves to be taken into 
 consideration because it was penned by a contemporary of Robespierre, 
 who must have been of Parisian origin, and probably witnessed what 
 he so well relates. 
 
^oifc^picvve at ^omc. 213 
 
 worker, but with a narrow mind. It is that painted by 
 Boilly, and which is in the Musee Carnavalet. 
 
 In 1785, according to Beaulieu, Robespierre was a little 
 man, " of mean aspect, and deeply pitted with the small- 
 pox, his complexion was pale and leaden-hued, his glance 
 dark and equivocal, and all about him expressed hatred 
 and envy." * 
 
 Hamel asserts, without further testimony, that the head 
 of Maximilien, though wanting in the leonine character 
 of those of Mirabeau and of Danton, whose imposing 
 ugliness was attractive, " was endowed with an indescrib- 
 able sort of persuasive expression that at once seized upon 
 the beholder. He had long chestnut hair (carefully pow- 
 dered) thrown back, a vast forehead, open on the temples 
 and slightly bulging, prominent eyebrows, the eyes deep 
 and clear, full of thought, but unfortunately veiled by 
 spectacles, rendered almost always necessary by his short- 
 sight, the nose straight and slightly turned up, the mouth 
 well formed, the chin firm, well accentuated: such was 
 the portrait of the physical man. " f 
 
 This portrait is singularly flattered, if we compare it 
 with the testimony of those who were accustomed to 
 approach our hero. 
 
 Dumont (of Geneva), who had conversed with him, 
 remarked that Robespierre did not look one straight in 
 the face, and that he seemed to have a continual and 
 painful blinking of the eyes. 
 
 The Abbe Proyart had already noted in Robespierre, 
 while a youth, " something undecided in his glance, and 
 that his eyes were deeply sunk." 
 
 * BiograpMe Michaud, ed. 1824, article Robespierre. 
 t Hamel, loc. cit., p. 294. 
 
214 i^ution^ mjpaif)^ of ^i^toti). 
 
 In order to hide his blinking, he wore eye-glasses, which, 
 Michelet says he used to handle with dexterity while 
 speaking in public. 
 
 Miss Williams, in her Souvenirs, declares that he wore 
 green glasses to rest his eyes, and sometimes also eye- 
 glasses besides, through which he would examine his 
 audience. So much for the physiognomy. 
 
 With regard to his clothing it was in the very best 
 style. The writer who has delineated the tribune in the 
 Memoires d'une Femme de qiialite, says that Robespierre 
 wore fine linen, well cut clothes, and a number of rings 
 on his fingers. This is true as to the linen and the 
 clothes, but the story of the rings is a fable. * It is a 
 fact that he was very natty in his dress, and that, in 
 contrast to most of his colleagues of the Convention, he 
 retained the custom of wearing ruffles and frills. 
 
 The painter, Vivant-Denon, who often had occasion to 
 see him, clearly remembers having seen him " powdered 
 white, wearing a waistcoat of brocaded muslin with a 
 light coloured border, and altogether got up in the most 
 recherche style of a dandy of 1789." f 
 
 After reading these various opinions one feels inclined 
 to ask, if it were the physical charms of the dictator 
 which made an impression on Mdlle, Duplay, or whether 
 it was not rather the influence upon her mind of his 
 intellectual superiority. 
 
 Robespierre was no lady's man ; he was too much ab- 
 sorbed in his ambitious dreams to allow himself to be 
 
 * Baudot, loc. cit., p. 245. 
 
 t Biographic Rabbe, art. Denon. 
 
^0i>c^puvu at ^onte. 215 
 
 conquered by a woman. " He loved neither women nor 
 money, and took no more care of his private interests 
 than if all shopkeepers were his gratuitous and much 
 obliged purveyors, and the houses, inns hired in advance 
 for his use. In fact, he acted on this principle with his 
 landlord." * 
 
 Robespierre allowed the eldest daughter of Duplay to 
 pay attention to him, but he was not in love with her. 
 Besides, Cornelie Duplay had a rather masculine face not 
 calculated to inspire the tender passion. 
 
 "That pale young girl, with pinched lips, and glassy 
 eye, sometimes lit up with a viperish glance, whose por- 
 trait exhibited at the Museum of the Revolution, struck 
 one at once by its dry and cold expression ; this absence 
 of colour and of charm, of gaiety and smile, made this 
 chlorotic and unsympathetic young girl the worthy be- 
 trothed of the proud and bilious Dictator, whose eye was 
 as snake-like as her own. f 
 
 With regard to Eleonore Duplay there are two versions : 
 according to the one, she had been the mistress of Robes- 
 pierre ; according to the other, she was his betrothed. 
 Charlotte Robespierre (his sister), who records these two 
 opinions, sincerely believes that Mr. Duplay hoped to 
 have Robespierre for son-in-law, and that she neglected 
 no means of seduction to lead him to marry her daughter. 
 Eleonore, herself, being very ambitious, did what she 
 could to gain the heart of Robespierre. But, according 
 to his sister, he never yielded, and the attention and 
 
 * Baudot, loc. cit, p. 242. 
 
 t Correspondant, 1889, p. 885. 
 
216 (S^^uuiott^ m)patf)^ of ^%mvt). 
 
 importunities of which he was the object only served to 
 disgust him. 
 
 All this is problematical. 
 
 Robespierre in the Duplay family, felt himself surrounded 
 with warm affections, and he could not have been other- 
 wise than very grateful for the many attentions lavished 
 upon him. In reality he was adored, and, when politics 
 granted him a brief respite, he seemed to live again in 
 this atmosphere of devoted attachment. It was generally 
 after dinner, when they adjourned into the drawing-room, 
 which was furnished " with heavy mahogany furniture 
 covered with crimson Utrecht velvet," that Robespierre 
 most liked the feeling of being at home. While the girls 
 were engaged on embroidery or linen work, he used to 
 read aloud passages from Voltaire or Corneille, or from 
 Racine or Rousseau. Besides, he read with great expression, 
 and much enjoyed the pleasure he gave to his hosts. 
 
 On Thursdays the evenings were not so private. For 
 some time, during the Constitiiante, the brothers Lameth 
 used to frequent the Duplays. Afterwards, at the time 
 of the Legislative Assembly, Merlin (of Thionville), Collot 
 d'Herbois, Panis, Camille Desmoulins (whose marriage 
 register Robespierre had signed as witness, which did not 
 in the least prevent him from sending his friend to the 
 scaffold), were assiduous frequenters of these evenings. 
 There were also to be met some eminent artists: the 
 painters Gerard and Proudhon; Buonarotti, a direct de- 
 scendant of Michael- Angelo, played the piano. Le Bas, a 
 fervent admirer of Italian music, which he could perform 
 
dloU^pUvtc at ^onu. 217 
 
 most agreeably, also contributed his talents to these very 
 pleasant evenings, from which, by mutual consent, politics 
 for the nonce were excluded. 
 
 Le Bas remained faithful to Robespierre, even unto 
 death. And history records that when he was arrested 
 along with his friend, he blew his brains out. 
 
 With regard to his wife, Elisabeth Duplay, she was 
 dragged from prison to prison. 
 
 It was in the midst of such emotions, in the height of 
 the Terror, that his son, Philippe Le Bas, was born, who 
 was destined to be chosen afterwards by Queen Hortense 
 to undertake the education of her son, Louis-Napoleon, 
 known later as the Emperor Napoleon III .... 
 
 About 1854, Philippe Le Bas lived at Fontenay-aux- 
 Roses, near Chatillon (a few miles outside of Paris). He 
 used to come every Saturday to pay a visit to his 
 mother, a respectable lady, venerated in the nei'ghbour- 
 hood for her piet}^ benevolence, and charity. This saintly 
 woman was the widow of Le Bas, the Conventional. One 
 anecdote will suffice to portray this venerable matron, a 
 worthy descendant of the Duplays. We borrow it from 
 a colleague, one of the most charming gossips of the day, 
 who used to relate it with exquisite humour. 
 
 Doctor Amedee Latour was a country neighbour of the 
 widow Le Bas, and, as such, was in the habit of frequently 
 visiting the good old lady. 
 
 " From the very beginning, " he narrates, " my attention 
 was drawn to a big parrot, for which Mme. Le Bas seemed 
 to feel great affection. 
 
218 (lutriou^ m)pam <>t ^ft^toi% 
 
 It often happened that our conversation with the worthy 
 dame was interrupted by the noisy bird, who, with a loud 
 voice, would give us a strophe of the Marseillaise. 
 
 Allans, enfants de la Patrie, 
 Le jour de gloire est arrivi.' 
 
 Or else this other song of the period: 
 
 Qa ira, gn ira, 
 
 Les aristocrates a la lanterne. 
 
 or the following well-known couplet: 
 
 Madame Vko avait promis {bis), 
 De faire egorger totct Paris (bis). 
 
 Mme. Le Bas used then to say : " Be quiet, you noisy 
 bird, do." 
 
 But the parrot, according to his fancy of the moment, 
 would either be silent or begin again. 
 
 One day I ventured to say to Mme. Le Bas : 
 
 " That's a very revolutionary parrot of yours. ' 
 
 " I should think so, " she said, in an undertone, " it was 
 the bird of Saint Maximilien Robespierre." And as she 
 said this, the worthy dame made the sign of the cross. 
 
 "Yes," she added," this parrot was bequeathed to me 
 by the Duplay family, who had been the devoted friends of 
 Saint Maximilien (here another sign of the cross) until his 
 death.. ." 
 
 Now here was a lady, of incontestable respectability, 
 a fervent and devout Catholic, whose moral and intellect- 
 ual faculties were above all suspicion, who had preserved 
 for Robespierre the veneration due to a Saint, in fact to 
 a god, for Mme. Le Bas placed Robespierre on the same 
 level with Jesus-Christ, declaring him to have been equally 
 the victim of the wickedness and perversity of mankind. 
 
^oifc^pictu rtt ^ome* 219 
 
 She never alluded to Robespierre otherwise than as 
 Saint Maxiinilien, and when she uttered that name she 
 made the sign of the cross. 
 
 To the vocabulary of the parrot, already very copious, — 
 too copious, — she had added some very original variations. 
 
 One day she said to me. " Go near to the bird and 
 pronounce the name of Robespierre ! " 
 
 "Hats off, hats off!" cried the parrot, shaking its wings. 
 
 " Say : Maximilien, " added Mme. Le Bas. 
 
 " Maximilien, " I repeated. 
 
 " A martyr, a martyr, " replied the bird. 
 
 "Say: Neuf Thermidor." 
 
 I shouted Neuf Thermidor! to the parrot. 
 
 " Go on and ask him : where is Saint Maximilien ? ' 
 
 To this question the bird promptly answered : 
 
 "In heaven, by the side of Jesus Christ." 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 Mme. Le Bas died at Fontenay about 1860, her son 
 Philippe shortly afterwards. As to the parrot it may, 
 perhaps, still be alive, these birds being said to live a 
 hundred years and more ... 
 
 At any rate does not this story of the Robespien-e 
 parrot seem worthy to occupy a place in the list of the 
 legends about pigeons and canary birds which appear to 
 be inseparable from all the biographies of the dictator. 
 
THE 
 
 SUPERSTITIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 NAPOLEON THE FIRST. 
 
Zf^t ftng i^ But a man a§ 3 am ; tijc tiiolct smells to ^im 
 ttg it hoii) to mc ; t|c element §^ott)§ to ^im a§ it bot^ to me ; 
 all ^ig §en§e§ |at)e hit ^umon conbitionS ; ^i§ ceremonies laib 
 bi), in ^iS nafebneSS Ije a))))earS but a man; anb t^oug^ ^iS 
 affections are Ijig^er monnteb ti^an ourS, ijet, lol^en tljet) Stoop, 
 t^et) Stoop wit^ t^e life wing; therefore n)^en ^e SeeS rcaSon 
 of fearS, aS m bo, IjiS fearS, out of boubt, be of t^e Same 
 reliS^ aS onrS are. 
 
 Henry V, iv, 1. 
 
THE SUPERSTITIONS OF NAPOLEON THE FIRST. 
 
 T is a generally accredited fact," writes Baron 
 Meneval in his Souvenirs of Napoleon, " that 
 great men have been, or must be, superstitious. The vulgar 
 man, who is in reality far more under the influence of 
 superstition than those whom he reproaches, cannot realise 
 that great men can accomplish great things otherwise 
 than by supernatural means not granted to ordinary 
 mortals; others consent only to pardon their superiority 
 on the condition of attributing to them some of the 
 frailties of common humanity." 
 
 Whatever sense may be attached to the word super- 
 stition, be it the belief in a certain power, or in super- 
 natural means, in occult forces that our mind may imagine 
 but that our senses cannot perceive, let this mysterious 
 power, which directs our acts, without intervention of our 
 judgment, be called Fatality or Providence, it will still 
 appear that faith in necromancers or drawers of horo- 
 scopes is a symptom, perhaps only a slight one, of mental 
 aberration. 
 
 "This mental aberration" — according to the text of 
 
 223 
 
224 ©utiottj^ ^\}paif)^ of ^mott^. 
 
 Meneval, — " ought not to be applied to the sentiment which, 
 for instance, led Napoleon to pretend that he was an 
 instrument of Providence to whom had been entrusted a 
 special mission, and to walk forward without fear, sure of 
 success, under this powerful shield. ' We should certainly 
 not deny this, if Napoleon, who had the presentiment that 
 he was charged with the accomplishment of a providential 
 mission, as all his biographers are unanimous in recognizing, 
 had limited himself to these outward manifestations, which 
 were destined, in his mind, only to impose upon the masses . 
 We must also recognize that he gave proof of most con- 
 summate political shrewdness when he recommended to 
 his army in Egypt the greatest respect for the Moham- 
 medan religion, * and when he himself thought it his 
 duty to assist at their religious ceremonies ; every time 
 that he found it necessary for the success of his plans 
 to make use of the public credulity, which he was partly 
 inclined to share, in but which he was the more disposed 
 to laugh at in others, the more he tried to conceal it in 
 his own case. 
 
 The scrupulousness in religious matters of Napoleon 
 may have been confounded, perhaps purposely, with his 
 prejudices. The Emperor, whatever opinion he may have 
 entertained of his own faculties, had the consciousness 
 
 * In the M4nioire$ of Bourrienne we read: "How can any one have 
 had the idea of representing Bonaparte as disposed towards Mohani- 
 medism? It does not merit serious discussion. No, he never entered 
 a mosque but from pure curiosity . . . What did he want ? To gain a 
 footing in Egypt. Policy and simple good sense dictated to him to 
 avoid saying anything contrary to the religion of the people." 
 
9lap0Uon'^ ^npcvmtion^. 225 
 
 of the existence of a Supreme Being, to whom he con- 
 sidered himself subject. His confidence of help from on 
 high in critical moments ; his frequent appeals, in his 
 proclamations, in his speeches, to the sole arbiter who holds 
 in his hands the combinations of all events; the particular 
 emotion he felt at the sound of church-bells, * which 
 plunged him into endless reveries and ecstasy; the sign of the 
 cross he made on the approach of danger, may have been, 
 as it has been said, no more than reminiscenses of his 
 first education, of which religion, it is known, formed 
 the basis. "t 
 
 The future is in the hands of God was the maxim he 
 most liked to repeat. He admitted that after he had 
 made his best calculated dispositions for a battle, there 
 was a moment when success no longer depended upon 
 
 * I always loved the sound of bells," said he at Saint Helena. 
 " There are two things that are to me the source of specially insup- 
 portable privation in this heretical, inhospitable island: no church-bells 
 and musty"; bread ! " De Beauterne, Sentiment de Napoleon sur le 
 Christianisnie, p. 45. 
 
 "The sound of church-bells," says Bourrienne, "produced the most 
 singular effect upon Bonaparte, which I could never explain ; he heard 
 it 'with delight. When we were at La Malmaison and used to walk 
 along the avenue leading to the plain of Rueil, often did the sound 
 of the village bell interrupt the most serious conversations. He would 
 stop, so that the noise of our footsteps should not deprive him of the 
 reverberation that charmed him. He used almost to be vexed with 
 me for not feeling the same impression as himself. 
 
 " The effect upon his senses was, that he would then say to me in 
 a voice full of emotion : ' That reminds me of the first years I passed 
 at Brienne, I was happy then ! ' I have twenty times witnessed the 
 singular effect of the sound of bells upon Napoleon." 
 
 t With regard to his religious sentiments see the work, mentioned 
 above, of the Chevalier de Beauterne. 
 
 15 
 
226 Q^ntion^ fB^paif)^ of ^mott). 
 
 himself. * It was then that fatality appeared upon the 
 scene, and if he never despaired in the most critical 
 moments, it was because, in spite of all, he had invincible 
 confidence in his destiny. 
 
 This confidence never abandoned Napoleon under any 
 circumstances. 
 
 When he informs the Directoire of the disaster of 
 Aboukir, he writes : " The Fates have willed, on this 
 occasion as on many others, to prove that if they grant 
 us a great preponderance on the Continent, they have 
 given the empire of the seas to our rivals. But however 
 great this reverse may be, it cannot be attributed to the 
 inconstancy of Fortune...." As early as 1795, writing 
 to his brother Joseph, he says : * //' tmj hopes are seconded 
 by that luck which never abandons me in my enterprises, 
 I shall be able to render you happy and to fulfil your 
 desires;" as he afterwards wrote to Josephine, in 1807, 
 " Why these tears, this sorrow ? Have you lost courage ? 
 1 should feel humiliated to think that my wife should have 
 lost faith in my destiny . . . " f 
 
 And is not this passage in the Memorial of Saint Helena 
 still more significant) " All those who know me know 
 what little care I took of my own safety. Accustomed 
 from the age of eighteen to cannon balls and bullets, § 
 
 * Baron Meneval, loc. cit, 
 
 t Guillois, Napoleon, Vhomme, le politique, Vorateur, Ch. I. 
 
 § It is quite true that for himself Napoleon took no precautions 
 and always displayed the most incontestable bravery. He was wounded 
 three times, but he risked death twenty times, at Toulon, at Moutereau, 
 at Arcis-Sur-Aube, at Waterloo, and in many other battles. 
 
 Conversing at Fontainebleau with Mr. de Bausset, Napoleon said 
 to him at the end of the conversation : " See what is destiny ! At 
 the battle of Arcis-Sur-Aube I did all in my power to find a glorious 
 
9la!^0U0n'^ '^npevmiion^. 227 
 
 and knowing the inutility of preserving my person from 
 them, / abandoned myself to my destiny . . . Since then 
 I have continued to abandon myself to my Star, leaving 
 the care of all precautions to the police." * 
 
 It may be inferred from these citations that Napoleon 
 was a fatalist, and we would not venture to contradict 
 this opinion, which seems to us to be quite incontestable, f 
 
 death while defending foot by foot the soil of my country; I exposed 
 myself without the least care; the bullets whistled round me; my 
 clothes were riddled by them and not one could touch me." Bona- 
 2Mrtiana, p. 125. 
 
 In the eyes of his soldiers Napoleon was invulnerable. Lecoeur 
 heard it rekted in his youth that Napoleon charmed the bullets 
 (Esquisses du Bocage, II, p. 369). 
 
 The following passage from the Memoirs of Dr. O'Meara is another 
 proof that Napoleon did not fear death. " As I was saying to Napoleon" 
 (it is O'Meara who speaks), " that he ought not to hasten his death by 
 refusing to take the necessary remedies, he replied: 'What is written 
 above is written,' and raising his eyes towards the sky, he added: 
 'Our days are counted'" Quoted by de Beauterne, loc. cit. p. 55. 
 
 As he was predicting his death, behold, a comet showed itself above 
 Saint Helena. Napoleon at once thought of that of Julius Caesar, and 
 appeared to believe that it was a sign from heaven to make known 
 to him that his own death would occur within a brief delay. 
 
 * Quoted by Guillois, loc. cit, pp. 171 — 172. 
 
 t In vol V of the Memorial de Saint-Helhie this is implicitly ad- 
 mitted by the emperor himself. 
 
 " It must be agreed that during the latter part of my career, fatali- 
 ties have accumulated upon me. My unfortunate marriage and the 
 perfidies to which it gave rise; that Spanish canker from which it 
 was impossible to draw back; that unhappy Russian campaign caused 
 by a misunderstanding, the fearful rigour of the elements that swal- 
 lowed up a whole army... and then the whole world against me! .. ." 
 
228 (S^uvlon^ m)paif^^ of ^moti). 
 
 Nevertheless, Napoleon always energitically denied this 
 imputation ; but could he be an impartial judge in his 
 own case ? 
 
 He had legitimate pride in the belief that no com- 
 mander had ever trusted in war more to his own intellect 
 and will ; but he none the less admitted that, " one worked 
 vainly in war, " and that, " the best is manifestly to be 
 resigned to the chances of one's profession." Let us 
 concede, at any rate, that Napoleon had a soldier's fatal- 
 ism, * and it cannot be denied that in his military com- 
 binations, he left a large margin to chance and to the 
 unexpected. 
 
 From chance to the marvellous there is but one step, 
 and an ardent imagination like that of Napoleon would 
 not be long in taking this step. 
 
 It has been said, to prove that Napoleon had no great 
 faith in the marvellous, that he had always expressed 
 contempt for charlatans and impostors, that he had over- 
 whelmed with his contempt, Mesmer, Lavater, and Gall, 
 that is to say all those people with improbable systems or 
 ideas, whose Utopias were repugnant to his positive im- 
 pressions. That is true, but what is not less so, is that, — 
 and abundant facts shall be brought to support our theory, — 
 Napoleon was full of prejudices : that he was superstitious 
 
 * In Egypt, Napoleon was in danger of being taken prisoner or 
 murdered by a party of Mamelukes. He was proceeding considerably 
 in advance of the army, accompanied only by a few guards and several 
 officers of his staff. By chance he was not perceived by the Mame- 
 lukes who were only separated from him by a slight elevation of 
 ground. Napoleon, who all his life, it is said, was a believer in 
 fatalism, joked about the danger he had been in, saying : " It is not 
 written above that I should be taken prisoner by Arabs." {Bonapar- 
 tiana, 1854, pp. 116—117). 
 
9tap0U0n*^ ^npcvUxilon^. 229 
 
 to excess, which may not be very surprising in a Corsican 
 in whose veins there flowed Italian blood. * 
 
 Besides how could he have failed to be superstitious 
 this mortal over whose cradle good fairies would seem to 
 have watched? 
 
 Has it not been related that the birth of Napoleon, like 
 those of all heroes, was accompanied by most surprising 
 prodigies? That, in the night of the 14th to 1 5th August 
 1769, the Abbe Martenot had remarked a new star in the 
 constellation of Virgo ; this star f which will present itself 
 
 * Tliat is to say that he was doubly a Meridional and it is well- 
 known how superstitious the Meridionals generally are. 
 
 t Before him, Constantine and Charlemagne had also believed in 
 their star, and also, after the taking of Damietta, the pious King 
 Saint Louis thanked God for showing him the star Antaris. The 
 following are the reflections inspired in a celebrated alienist, Dr. 
 Briere de Boismont, by the Etoiles des grands hoinmes (The Stars of 
 great men) : " The faith of genius is rare. Celebrated men who have 
 faith, believe in the supernatural. They persuade themselves that 
 their destiny is linked to some sensible sign they perceive in the 
 air; in such wise many have believed in the existence of a star, of 
 a tutelary genius, and such marvellous apparitions have not always 
 found thera incredulous. The explanation appears to us to be simple 
 enough; the mind, continually concentrated towards one end in view, 
 attains its highest degree of enthusiasm in that state which may be 
 called ecstasy or illu minis m, but which is none the less one of the 
 inmost faculties of our being, from which spring the animated creations 
 of genius, and in which thought, in order to make itself understood, 
 clothes itself with the attributes of the body." Union medicale, 1853 
 p. 213. 
 
 Of course we insert this explanation for what it may be worth, 
 without vouching for its correctness. 
 
230 ©uttott)^ m}pait)^ of ^movi). 
 
 to him in the most memorable circumstances of his life, * 
 and which his eyes will seek for in hours of anxiety. 
 
 This at least, is a strange coincidence ; in the night of 
 15th to 16th August 1769, Frederick the Great, being at 
 Breslau, had a dream, which on awakening on the morning 
 of the 16th, he thus related to one of his Aides- de-Camp: 
 "Could you," said he to him, "interpret a dream which 
 troubles me much? I saw the star of my Kingdom and 
 my genius shining in the firmament, luminous and re- 
 splendent. I was admiring its brilliancy and its lofty posi- 
 tion, when above mine there appeared another star which 
 eclipsed it as it descended upon it. There was a struggle 
 between the two, for a moment their rays were confounded 
 together, and my star, obscured, enveloped within the 
 orbit of the other, fell to the earth, as if pushed down 
 by a force which seemed likely to extinguish it. The 
 struggle was long and obstinate ; at last my star got free, 
 but with much difficulty. It rose again to its place and 
 continued to shine in the firmament, whereas the other 
 one vanished." And the Chevalier de Beauterne, who 
 relates the anecdote, adds the following comment : " In- 
 
 * Napoleon, being at Bayonne, had given some very important des- 
 patches to the captain of a corvette, with orders to set sail at once. 
 However the next day the Emperor was informed that this captain 
 was still in the town. Angry at his disobedience, he sent for him 
 and asked him in the severest tone the cause of his delay: "Sire," 
 said the captain, greatly troubled at such a reception, * the English 
 are blockading the port, and I feared to set sail, not on account of 
 my ship, nor of myself, or my crew, but for the safety of the 
 despatches you have deigned to confide to me." 
 
 Napoleon, mollified by this explanation, answered : " Fear nothing, 
 captain, start; mt/ star will guide you." 
 
 This prediction was accomplished, for the officer escaped the vigilance 
 of the British cruisers." Bonapartiana, pp. 41 — 42. 
 
credulity may deny the mysterious connection between this 
 dream * and the existence of Xapoleon ; but it cannot 
 contest the truth of the fact itself, f nor the coincidence 
 
 * The dream of Charles Bonaparte, the father of Napoleon, is no*; 
 less curious. A few days before his death, Ch. Bonaparte had a sort 
 of supernatural revelation, for, in a moment of delirium, he cried 
 out: "that all exterior aid would be unable to save him, since this 
 Napoleon, ivhose sword would one day conquer Europe, would in vain 
 ' endeavour to save his father from the dragon of death which was 
 tormenting him." (Fact related by Mr. du Casse in his Histoire 
 anecdotique de Napoleon /«»•. Paris, Paul Dupont, 1869.) 
 
 t After the battle of Jena, Napoleon, who had twice beaten the 
 Prussians, said to the poet Wieland, who had solicited a private 
 audience of him : — " You know the dream of Frederick? " " Yes, Sire." 
 "Well," continued the Emperor, "do you believe in the constella- 
 tions?" "The dream is true. Sire, that is all I can say." " There is a 
 strange menace. Sir, in this dream ! There is something sinister in 
 it for us." "How so. Sire?" said the poet — "Yes something sinister, 
 for the star of the dead man is to overcome the star of the living,^ 
 said Napoleon in a peculiar tone as he called to mind the dream of 
 Frederick. 
 
 This star was to show itself to him on two other different occasions. 
 
 In 1806, General Rapp, returned from the Siege of Dantzig, having 
 an urgent necessity to speak with the Emperor, had entered his 
 cabinet without causing himself to be announced. He found him so 
 deeply absorbed that he could not say a word to him. Seeing that 
 he remained still motionless, Rapp thought that he was unwell and 
 purposely made some noise. Napoleon, turning round at once, clutched 
 the General by the arm and said to him: " Do you not perceive it?... 
 It is my star ! . . . There, yonder . . . before you . . . brilliant : " and 
 becoming gradually more excited, he exclaimed : " It has never abandoned 
 me, I see it in all great occurrences; it commands me to go forward, 
 and is to me a constant sign of good luck." 
 
 Towards the end of the year 1811, Cardinal Fesch adjured the 
 Emperor to cease warring against religion, against nations and against 
 the elements; " Do you see that star above? " said Napoleon suddenly, 
 drawing him towards an open window? 
 
232 a;ttrl0U!S f8^paii)^ of ^moti). 
 
 of the dates, since it is all to be found in several biogra- 
 phies, and in the histories of Frederick II, published in 
 Germany before and after the death of that sovereign, at 
 a time when Napoleon was no more than a pupil at the 
 military school Tit Brienne, or an officer of artillery." 
 
 It was in fact during his residence at the college at 
 
 ' No, Sire. " 
 
 'Look well!" 
 
 "Sire, I see nothing." 
 
 "Well then! I myself do see it," replied Napoleon, who could not 
 brook contradiction. 
 
 The above anecdote has Ijeen related somewhat differently by Mr. 
 Passy, who made it known to M. Augustin Thierry, after the latter's 
 communication to the Institute concerning the vision of Constantine 
 (Vide Union medicale, 1853, loc. cit., p. 314). 
 
 Prom another source in the number for the 12th August 1896, the 
 Gaulois published the followi.ig paragraph: 
 
 "Mr. Arthur Levy, the well-known historian of Napoleon in private 
 life, has, during the course of his researches, discovered a pretty 
 piece of German servile flattery, which is quite a propos on the 
 approach of the 15th August 
 
 Fbederick the Great and Napoleon. 
 
 "Frederick the Great was in Berlin during the summer of 1769. 
 The orderly officer, sitting up in the King's anteroom, had orders to 
 awaken His Majesty at five in the morning. At this hour the King 
 was plunged in a profound sleep, and no one dared to wake him, 
 because he had gone to bed in a very bad humour. The officer alone, 
 faithful to the orders he had received, approached the bed of bis 
 sovereign, who, contrary to the anticipation of all those around, woke 
 up in good spirits. 'Do you know how to interpret dreams?' 
 asked the King. 'No, Sire,' answered the officer. — 'Never mind, listen 
 
Brienne and consequently at the very outset of his career, 
 that Bonaparte had the first presage of his extraordinary 
 career, as is witnessed by this anecdote which we remember 
 seeing somewhere. When he was First Consul, he sent 
 word to Mme. de Montesson that she was to come to the 
 Tuileries. As soon as he saw her, he advanced to meet 
 her, and told her to ask for whatever she liked. 
 
 " But General, I have no right to avail myself of your 
 offer." 
 
 at all events and pay great attention to the dream I Lave just had, 
 and we shall some day see what event is connected with it; in my 
 dream I saw a brilliant star descending towards the earth, its 
 resplendent light so enveloped me that I had the utmost difficulty in 
 extricating myself from it and in making myself visible. ' So spake 
 the King. The officer paid great attention to the dream and to the 
 date. It was the night which preceded the birth of the emperor 
 Napoleon!" (Gazette de Munich, of 15th March 1810.) 
 
 We begged Mr. Arthur Levy to give us some additional informa- 
 tion and he was obliging enough to send us in reply the following 
 interesting letter: 
 
 " 19th October, 1896. 
 "Sir, 
 
 I found the dream of Frederick II, in the National Archives under 
 the letter A. F. IV, N". 1565, in the extracts from foreign newspapers 
 which formed part of the collection of the office of the Secretary 
 of State. It is neither preceded nor followed by any comment ; you 
 have it in the Gaulois just as it is in the Archives, minus the last 
 phrase which I have suppi'essed : ' .... It was the same night that 
 witnessed the birth of the Emperor Napoleon, ' because that is untrue. 
 
 " My opinion is that it is a servile piece of German flattery, thou- 
 sands of which were inspired by Napoleon, and issued to our neigh- 
 bours across the Rhine. It was quite in this sense, if I remember 
 rightly, that I gave it to the Gaulois. 
 
 " Regretting a thousand times my inability to further enlighten you, 
 
 I beg, Sir, etc., etc. 
 
 Arthuk Levy." 
 
234 ($:tti?i0U)S m)paU)^ of ^movih 
 
 "You forget then, Madame," he said, "that I received 
 my first laurel crown from your hands. You came to 
 Brienne to distribute the prizes, and when you placed on 
 my head the wreath that was the forerunner of so many 
 others, you said, ' May it bring you good fortune.' " 
 
 M deme. Montesson was about to reply, but Bonaparte 
 interrupted her. " I am, " he said, " a fatalist. Therefore 
 it is easy to see why I have not forgotten an incident 
 that you do not remember." 
 
 At a later period, Napoleon loaded Mme. de Montesson 
 with gifts and honours, and bestowed upon her a pension 
 of 60.000 francs a year. 
 
 On leaving the school at Brienne in 1785, Napoleon, 
 after passing his examinations brilliantly, had been appointed 
 second sub-lieutenant to the La Fere regiment, then 
 in garrison in the Dauphine. After remaining some time 
 at Grenoble, he came to reside at Valence. As soon as 
 he was installed, he sent for his brother Louis, nine 
 years younger than himself. 
 
 Both lodged with a Mdlle. Bon. Louis occupied a modest 
 attic over Napoleon's bed-chamber. Napoleon used to 
 wake him in the morning by knocking with a stick on 
 the ceiling. One day young Louis was late in coming 
 down. Napoleon was about to knock again with his stick 
 when his brother appeared: 
 
 " Why, what is the matter this morning. We seem 
 to be rather lazy?" 
 
 "Oh, brother! I had such a lovely dream!" 
 
 " And what did you dream ? " 
 
 " I dreamt that I was king. " 
 
 " And what then was I ? . . . Emperor ? " said the young 
 sub-lieutenant, shrugging his shoulders ... ** Come along. 
 
ffla^oUon*^ ^npcvHmon^. 235 
 
 let us get to work ! " and the daily lesson of mathematics 
 was as usual given to the future king by the future 
 Emperor. * 
 
 Bonaparte had doubtless forgotten that incident when, 
 nine years later, in January 1794, passing through Mar- 
 seilles, he for the first time had recourse to a fortune- 
 teller. This woman had often been consulted by Napoleon's 
 sister, the widow of general LeClerc, the beautiful Pauline, 
 who was probably more curious to learn the issue of her 
 amorous intrigues than to know her future ; f Bonaparte 
 was more anxious about his future elevation. The gipsy 
 said to him in the following exact terms : " You will 
 cross the seas ; you will be victorious ; you will return and 
 become greater than ever." 
 
 It was this same fortune-teller who, one evening that 
 she was performing in the open air at la Tourette, remarked 
 in the crowd which had gathered around her, the sisters 
 of Napoleon, Pauline and Elisa, accompanied by a rich 
 Marseillaise republican who was extending hospitality to 
 the Bonaparte family : " You shall one day be a queen, 
 my pretty child," said the gipsy to Pauline. 
 
 When, later on, Pauline had married for the second time, 
 taking for husband the Prince Borghese, she came to 
 reside at the chateau de Saint- Joseph, at an hour's distance 
 from Marseilles. The Republican who had accompanied 
 her several years previously, and who had at one moment 
 been her fiance, reminded her of the adventure with the 
 
 * Bonapartiana, p. 151. This scene occurred in presence of Mr. Par- 
 mentier, surgeon of the regiment in which Napoleon was second sub- 
 lieutenant. 
 
 t Vide, General de Ricard. Autour de Bonaparte, Paris, 1891, pp. 
 143—145. 
 
236 ^tttJtou)^ fBijpati}^ of ^^movih 
 
 fortune-teller: "She did not altogether tell the truth," 
 answered Pauline, "for I am only a Princess." 
 
 It is to be supposed that Fortune is a woman, for if 
 Pauline saw but one part of the prophecies realised which 
 concerned herself, her brother was destined to see realised 
 all and far more than had been foretold to him. 
 
 One of the predictions which produced the greatest im- 
 pression upon the mind of Napoleon was that which was 
 made him for the first time in Egypt, * under circumstan- 
 ces which have been often, if not very exactly, reported. 
 
 Bonaparte was one day taking a walk in Cairo, with his 
 officers, when an old woman, of sordid appearance, came 
 up and barred his way, and, without further preamble, of- 
 fered to tell him his fortune. Without waiting for an 
 
 * On board the ship which was conveying him to Egypt, * How 
 often," writes Mr. Turquan, "when surrounded by Monge, Berthollet 
 and other savants, did he propound the question of the truth or 
 falsity of presentiments and of the interpretation of dreams ! No 
 matter what these learned men could do or say, he never could prevail 
 upon himself to believe that presentiments had no real signification 
 regarding the future." 
 
 Thus, a little later, when in Egypt, being informed that the best 
 sloop of his ^Nile flotilla, the Italie, had been taken and destroyed by 
 the Turks, after a most heroic defence on the part of the crew, he 
 was much struck by the event, exclaiming: "Italy is lost to France! 
 my forebodings never deceive me." His secretary, Bourrienne, ob- 
 served to him that there could be no connection between Italy and a 
 small armed boat to which the name of that country had been given, 
 but nothing could rid Bonaparte of the notion. But what is most 
 curious in the matter is, that his presentiment was destined shortly 
 to be realized. Italy was in fact evacuated by the French armies 
 after a series of defeats which were put a stop to only in 1800 by the 
 thunderclap of Marengo. 
 
ma^^oUon'^ ^xipcvmnon^. 237 
 
 answer, the sorceress built up a pyramid of variously 
 coloured shells, and according to the arrangement and 
 tint of the shells she drew his horoscope. 
 
 "You will have," she said to Bonaparte, "two wives; 
 one, you will most wrongfully repudiate. The second 
 will not be inferior to her in great qualities. She will 
 bear you a son. Soon, great wars and dark intrigues will 
 be raised against you. You will cease to be happy and 
 powerful. All your hopes will be overthrown. You will 
 be driven out by force, and banished to a volcanic land, 
 surrounded by the sea and by rocks. Beware of counting 
 upon the fidelity of those nearest to you ; your own blood 
 will rise against your rule." 
 
 The mind of Bonaparte was the more struck by this 
 prediction that the pythoness was ignorant of the rank of 
 the personage to whom she addressed herself. Turning 
 to one of the officers of his suite, he caused twenty-seven 
 sequins to be given to the old woman, all the money that 
 the officer had about him, and went away much troubled. 
 
 When he returned to France, he must have been haunted — 
 if indeed the legend of the Egyptian fortune-teller be not 
 apocryphal — by the memory of this adventure, when he 
 signed, before the notary iiaquideau, his marriage contract 
 with the widow of General de Beauharnais, who was des- 
 tined to make such clever use of the superstitious beliefs 
 of her husband. 
 
 The quite accidental circumstances which led to the 
 first intimacy between Bonaparte and Josephine are pretty 
 well known. 
 
 After Vendemiaire, Eugene Beauharnais, then but still a 
 
238 a:tttiotti§ mjpaif)^ of ^mott). 
 
 child, went to the commander-in-chief of the army of the 
 interior (General Bonaparte) to solicit from him the sword 
 of his father. The aide-de-camp, Lemarrois, introduced 
 the boy, who, on recognizing his father's sword, burst into 
 tears. The commander-in-chief, touched by this show of 
 feeling, overwhelmed him with caresses. When Eugene 
 related to his mother the reception he had met with from 
 the young General, she hastened to pay him a visit of 
 thanks. "It is known," the Emperor used to say when al- 
 luding to this subject, " how much she believed in pre- 
 sentiments, and in sorcerers. In her childhood a great 
 future had been predicted to her, that she should become 
 a sovereign. Her finesse is also well known, and she 
 used also often to repeat to me, that it was after the 
 first accounts given to her by Eugene, that her heart had 
 began to throb, and, that from that moment, she had fore- 
 seen a shadow of her destiny. * 
 
 All historians have repeated that, in the early days 
 of her marriage with Bonaparte, Josephine had heard it 
 predicted by a gipsy " that she would become greater than 
 a queen, and that notwithstanding she would die in an 
 hospital." t 
 
 * Constant says, in his Memoires, that Josephine took pleasure in 
 repeating to Napoleon: "They talk of your star, but it is mine that 
 influences you; it is to rae that high destinies have been predicted." 
 And the Emperor wished nothing better than to be so convinced. 
 
 * Vide. Souvenirs de VEmpereur Napoleon Jer, p. 175. 
 
 t According to Constant (Memoires, t. I, p. 310), this prophecy had 
 been made to Josephine at the moment of her leaving Martinique. 
 A sort of gipsy is said to have told her : " You are going to France 
 to get married; your marriage will not be happy; your husband will 
 meet with a tragical death ; and you will yourself, at that time be 
 exposed to great danger; but you will triumph over that; you have 
 
The first part of this prediction was accomplished by 
 her marriage with Napoleon. With regard to the second, 
 it was equally verified, for she died in her property of 
 La Malmaison, which, it is said, had been originally an 
 asylum for sick people. * 
 
 When the ascendancy exercised by Josephine upon Na- 
 poleon is taken into consideration, it may easily be ex- 
 plained how she may have brought him, without much 
 effort, to participate in her faith in divinatory powers, f 
 
 before you the most glorious of destinies and, without being queen, 
 you will be more than queen." 
 
 She added, that being very young at the time, she paid but little 
 attention to this prediction, and she remembered it only when Mr. de 
 Beauharnais was guillotined; she then mentioned it to several ladies 
 who were imprisoned together with her, during the time of the Terror, 
 but that now she saw it in each point accomplished. 
 
 * Lord Holland, in his Diplomatic Souvenirs, p. 174, says that he 
 had often heard this prediction repeated in 1802, " consequently before 
 the death of Josephine, before her elevation to the dignity of Empress 
 and when it was still possible to doubt whether the wife of the First 
 Consul had already actually accomplished the first part of the oracle." 
 
 t Baron Meneval, who pretends that Napoleon never had recourse 
 to "the ridiculous practices of necromancy," admits, however: "it to 
 be possible, that in the great ardour of his love for Josephine, he 
 may have allowed himself to be induced to assist at a consultation 
 with a fortune-teller, and that he made this sacrifice solely to gratify 
 the impressionable mind of the woman he so tenderly loved." 
 
 What we can add is not of a nature to invalidate this very plaus- 
 sible opinion. Mdlle. Lenormand has pretended that she was called 
 for the first time only to la Malmaison in 1801 (2nd May), but that, 
 during this interview, Josephine had told her, that in 1795, Bona- 
 parte had consulted n- person in the Faubourg Saint-Germain : («) it 
 was at the moment when he was asking leave to quit France and to 
 go to Constantinople: "You will obtain neither the one nor the other," 
 
 a The Rue Tournon, where Mdlle. Lenormand resided, is in the 
 Faubourg Saint-Germain, {Transl.). 
 
240 ©ttviou^ m)paif^^ of ^movi). 
 
 After being so much in the company of Josephine, Na- 
 poleon had come to believe that he himself was gifted 
 with a certain prophetic talent, * and one day indeed he 
 took a fancy to try his hand at fortune-telling. It was 
 during a soiree at Josephine's, who had not yet become 
 his wife, and whose heart hesitated between the choice of 
 three aspirants to her hand : Hoche, Caulaincourt, and 
 Bonaparte. The latter, who was in disguise, resolved to 
 play the part of a chiromancer; the mistress of the house 
 was alone admitted to his confidence. 
 
 After having foretold the future to each of the guests, 
 it came to be the turn of Hoche. Examining the palm 
 of the future general, he gravely predicted to him " that 
 his mistress would be stolen from him by a rival, and that 
 he would not die in his bed." 
 
 When later the news was spread that Hoche had died 
 prematurely of poison, there were malignant tongues which 
 said the sibyl, " but you will marry a woman of dark complexion, 
 the mother of two children, whose father will have honourably accom- 
 plished the duties of his military career." 
 
 Hardly nad she said these words — it is Mdlle. Lenormand who speaks 
 — than Bonaparte' entered and recognized in the sibyl his fortune-teller 
 of 1795. And Mdlle. Lenormand adds, in relating this anecdote, that 
 Josephine had particularly recommended her not to reveal this, for, 
 she said: "The great do not like to let the public know that they 
 are subject to the same weaknesses as the vulgar crowd." 
 
 * He had also some pretensions to medical knowledge, and often 
 called all the physicians of his day, quacks, ignoramuses, etc. Even 
 Corvisart did not find favour in his eyes. He liked very much, at 
 any rate, to give advice; and what he prescribed was naturally.... 
 old grandmother's remedies. For instance, writing to the Prince Eugene, 
 on 30th August 1806, he said: "Take care of yourself in your present 
 state and try not to give us a daughter. I can give you a recipe for 
 that, but you will not believe me : " it is to drink every day a little 
 'pure wine.'' MSmoires of Mme. de Edmusat, t. Ill, p. 177. 
 
fflapoUon'^ ^npcmmon^. 241 
 
 did not fail to call to mind this prediction. Let us hasten 
 to add that this was a calumny on Bonaparte, which is 
 amply refuted by the official report (proces-rerbal) of the 
 illness, and the account of the last moments of Hoche. * 
 
 In divesting Napoleon of the divine aureole of his glory, 
 to lower him to the level of the humblest mortals by 
 attributing to him some of the weaknesses to which poor 
 humanity is subject, we had no intention to systematically 
 depreciate his glory : those who think so would misinterpret 
 our intention. But historical veracity obliges us to own 
 that this great genius had some blemishes which have 
 tarnished his Caesarian fame. 
 
 One of Napoleon's secretaries, one of those who has 
 undertaken his defence with the most passionate zeal, has 
 endeavoured to persuade us not only that he did not 
 participate in the superstitious beliefs of Josephine f, but 
 
 * We shall explain in detail the tiue causes of the death of Hoche 
 in our work, to be published shortly, on the Mysterious deaths of 
 history. 
 
 t To that assertion we will first oppose the following passage from 
 the Memoirs of Mine, de liemusat, t. 1, p. 102: 
 
 " When, after leaving his study, Bonaparte used to come in the 
 evening to the drawing-room of Madame Bonaparte, he would at times 
 cause the wax candles to be shaded with white gauze; and, after 
 requesting us to remain perfectly silent, took a pleasure in telling us, 
 or in hearing us relate, ghost-stories." 
 
 Then again, this passage of the Memoires de Constant (t. I. p. 309); 
 "She (Josephine) says that he is superstitious; that one day, being 
 with the army in Italy, having broken in his pocket the glass which 
 covered her portrait, he was in despair, being persuaded that it was 
 an omen that she was dead; and he had no rest until the return of 
 
 16 
 
242 a:uvt0U)^ f&t)paU)^ of ^l^iovt). 
 
 that he omitted no occasion to turn them into ridicule. 
 He was present when Napoleon forbade his wife to consult 
 
 the courier whom he had despatched to obtain information." It is 
 true that in a note is added, that " the Emperor was then still 
 enamoured of Josephine." 
 
 We subjoin, simply as a curiosity, the following passage from t. Ill 
 of the Apri'S-dhiers of Camhaceres p. .347 et sequitur : 
 
 * After the great campaign made by Napoleon in Spain in 1808 
 and in the beginning of 1809, he remained but a short time in Paris, 
 the war with Austria having immediately recommenced. In the mean- 
 while, we went to spend a few days at Fontainebleau. One day that 
 I entered the Emperor's cabinet, at the same moment that the Prince 
 of Benevento (Talleyrand) was coming out, His Majesty said to me: 
 
 " ' Prince, do you possess the talent of Daniel ? ' 
 
 "'Which, Sire?' 
 
 "'The interpretation of dreams. This is what I dreamed last night: 
 I was in bed, someone knocked at the door; I sat up in bed; I 
 saw enter a man of gigantic stature, clad in magnificent but rather 
 barbaric attire; in one hand he held a long and broad sword, and in 
 the other a sceptre surmounted by an eagle; his brow was decked 
 with the Imperial crown. This phantom said to me: Sleep not, thou 
 must fight again : thou shalt conquer, but oti condition that thou dost 
 respect the weak. He was still speaking when I saw another monarch 
 enter crowned with lilies and burdened with fetters. After him, there 
 came a third whom I recognized by remembering one of the master- 
 pieces of Titian. This was Francis I, and the other doubtless. King 
 John. Both took away Charlemagne with them, and the noise of the 
 door in closing awoke me. ' 
 
 "This vision," continued the Prince, "was related to me with more 
 details than I give you, gentlemen. It very much troubled the 
 Emperor, and although Charlemagne bad predicted victory to him, yet 
 as it was but under the condition that he should spare the weak, 
 which Napoleon, perhaps, had not the least intention to do, all his 
 attention was concentrated on the two other monarchs, both defeated 
 and both made prisoners. I endeavoured to divert his mind from these 
 sad thoughts. 
 
 "'I know,' he said, 'that dreams are only illusions, but there are 
 
fflapoUon'^ ^npetmtlon^. 243 
 
 Mdlle. Lenormand, whom he afterwards had arrested and 
 subjected to a regular cross-questioning. He adds, that 
 
 cases when God employs such methods to communicate with us. 
 Without referring back to the Old Testament, I see, in the New, an 
 angel reproving the jealousy of Joseph ; a dream determining the 
 flight into Egypt; the wise men, returning from their journey to 
 Bethlehem, turned aside from the nearest road by a dream ; then again 
 the dream of the bad rich man; ... all this makes one reflect. Nothing 
 is easier than to laugh, to doubt, to deny ; but is it reasonable? I 
 should like to know the meaning of my dream. The principal point 
 is that Charlemagne is led away by two prisoner Kings. I have half 
 a mind to go and consult Mdlle. Lenormand, or else Moreau . . . No, 
 not the first, she might gossip; I will go to Moreau. Will you go 
 there with me?' 
 
 " This was said laughing, and gaily. I replied that in my quality 
 of arch-chancellor of the Empire my duty was to follow my Emperor 
 everywhere. 
 
 "'Well,' said he, 'we shall see about it .. .' I was surprised when, 
 later, I learned that the Emperor had been to see this Moreau; I sup- 
 posed that it was with the Marquis de Lostanges, for whom he had 
 a particular affection, or else with the Count Louis de Narbonne, whom 
 he noticed on account of his genuine royal descent. 
 
 " I am not aware," continued the Prince, " that the Emperor ever went 
 with any other persons than myself to see Moreau; with regard to 
 that visit, we made it together with the Dukes of Frioul and of 
 Rovigo. Napoleon called for me one opera evening, for a joke, 
 cautioning me to don 
 
 The brown overcoat. 
 
 And the midnight cloak of real moon- colour. 
 
 " I guessed the reason of the injunction, and disguised myself in 
 accordance. The place of meeting, for I was not to go to the Tuileries, 
 so as not to arouse the attention of its inhabitants, was on the Quai 
 Saint Nicholas, close to the Louvre, where a hired coach was 
 waiting. 
 
 " I got into the coach, in which was the Emperor; the vehicle 
 
244 a:utl0U$ ^t)paif)^ of ^moVi). 
 
 Josephine surrounded with the deepest mystery her con- 
 nection with this adventuress, and the comptroller of her 
 
 stopped at the corner of the Quai de Gesvres and of the Pont 
 Notre-Darae. 
 
 " There we got out, well enveloped in our overcoats ; a footman led 
 the way, and we arrived at the lodging of Moreau; I spare you a de- 
 scription of the room, it was in conformity with the usual habitations of 
 magicians. Moreau, the sly rogue, guessed who we were; the dream 
 was related to him, but Charlemagne had been transformed into a con- 
 tractor for blankets, and the Kings John and Francis I, his two sons 
 who, having badly succeeded in business, were in prison at Fort- 
 I'Eveque; Napoleon was supposed to be the actual director of the 
 manufactory. 
 
 "Moreau listened to all we had to tell him; he then sorted his 
 cards, consulted his whites of eggs, his coffee-grounds, promised 
 marvels, endeavouring to gloss over the predictions of captivity. The 
 Emperor brought him back to it, upon which he said : 
 
 "'Yes, the cards speak of prison, but that concerns those who 
 trouble the actual proprietor of the establishment.' 
 
 " He was telling a lie, that is sure. It was now my turn, he 
 scrutinized me, and recognized me, related all my private life and 
 finally announced that I should marry a near relation to the manufac- 
 turer (the Emperor), having a similarity to me in point of taste and 
 age. This allusion to Madame Mh-e was not very successful. 
 
 "'And I,' said Rovigo? 
 
 "'You will go to prison, and more than once.' 
 
 "'And I?' asked Duroc. 
 
 " Moreau examined his hand and remained silent. 
 
 " ' Speak,' said the Duke of Frioul. 
 
 Continued silence. 
 
 " 'Will you speak?' 
 
 " ' If I must, I charge a cannon ball to carry my answer.' 
 
 "Things began to turn out badly; we went away sad, anxious, and 
 we could barely compliment Savary on his various captivities, which 
 seemed to be all the less probable that his special and permanent 
 mission was to run other people in. (a) I remember this incident in 
 
 a) Savary was Minister of Police. (Transl.) 
 
mapoUon'^ ^npcvmtton^. 245 
 
 privy purse never knew what sums she expended in 
 payment of the latter's predictions. * 
 
 We shall be able, by examining the memoirs of con- 
 temporaries, to estimate the value of his assertions. 
 
 Mdlle. Avrillon, tirst lady of the chamber to the Empress 
 Josephine, declares that the predictions of Mdlle. Lenormand 
 connection with the adventure of Mallet, and I mentioned it then to 
 Savary, who seemed particularly anxious; the terrible death of 
 Duroc (ffl) added to his veneration for Moreau; and how often, in 
 1814, did he not remind me of this dream of the Emperor, of his two 
 captivities, represented by the two Kings : the one was already realized, 
 what would be the other? Saint Helena has proved to us that the 
 Emperor was right when he inclined to believe that heaven sometimes 
 made use of dreams to communicate with Kings." 
 
 * Baron Meneval, loc. cit. During the Consulate, the 2nd of May 
 1802, as we have said above, the sibyl was summoned to La Mal- 
 maison by Josephine. She announced to her among other things that 
 the First Consul would fail in his attempt to invade England. Bona- 
 parte, hearing of this, caused her to be arrested and taken to the 
 prison of the Madelonnettes, where she was confined from the 16th 
 December 1803 till the 1st January 1804. On that day she sent the 
 following lines to Fouche (the Prefect of Police) : 
 
 Si le prefet veut bien en ce moment 
 
 Par un bienfait commencer cette ann^e; 
 
 S'il m'ouvre enfin ce triste appartement, 
 
 Je lui predis heureuse destinee. (b) 
 (a) Duroc was killed by a cannon ball at the battle of Wurtschen, on 
 the 22nd May 1813. Bonaparte, in his bulletin of that battle, mentions 
 a very remarkable conversation he had with his favourite in his dying 
 moments. If we are to believe this bulletin, Duroc said to his master, 
 " that he awaited him in heaven, but he trusted that it would not be 
 until after thirty years, so that he might have achieved the welfare 
 of France." Vide Michaud, Biographie Universelle, t. XII, p. 111. (Transl.) 
 {b} " If the Prefect will but hear, 
 
 And let me out of this dismal cell; 
 
246 (§;uiriou!^ m)paU)^ of ^^iHovi). 
 
 were nothing but a tissue of falsehoods; f that Josephine 
 knew very little about her, and, that as for Napoleon, he 
 never consulted her. 
 
 She relates how one day she was impelled by curiosity 
 to visit the pythoness of the Rue Tournon, whom she 
 
 t Nevertheless the " falsehoods " of Mdlle. Lenormand were credited 
 among the " upper ten, " for it seems positive that the sibyl was con- 
 sulted by Barras, Talleyrand, Tallien, David, General Moreau, Denon, 
 the Duke of Berry, the tragedian Talma, the singer Garat, besides 
 many others. With regard to Napoleon this is what we can reply 
 to the testimony of Mdlle. Avrillon. First of all Napoleon, while at 
 Saint Helena, is supposed to have spoken as follows to an Englishman, 
 of the name of W. Killian, who has published it in a book entitled 
 the Prophecies of Napoleon. The book in question being however of 
 very questionable authenticity, we quote the following with the reserve 
 that is usual under such circumstances: 
 
 * Mdlle. Lenormand showed me Saint Helena, and made me a sketch 
 of the island on the wainscot of an apartftient still existing in the 
 Rue Tournon. 
 
 " She wrote thereon in different places : 
 Plantation — House. 
 Hut's gate (sic.) 
 Longwood 
 Marchand 
 Bertrand 
 
 The Tower and Hudson Lowe." 
 
 Were these prophecies made after the facts ? That is quite possible, 
 the book not having been published until 1830. 
 
 Can greater faith be placed in the assertions of Mdlle. Lenormand 
 herself, who has published i i her Souvenirs d'unc sibijUe, a consulta- 
 tion which, according to her, she gave, to an emissary from the 
 Emperor, " a country girl . . . who had been charged with the mission 
 by an unknown person." 
 
 At the beginning of this new-year; 
 His future happiness I foretell. 
 The request was listened to and Fouche released his prisoner. 
 
^la^oUon'^ ^xtpcvmtion^. 247 
 
 very picturesquely describes as, " dressed in a dark coloured 
 cloth riding-habit," the form beneath which was so huge 
 
 Though this document is rather long we thought it better to repro- 
 duce it, if only as a curiosity. It is, besides, but little known, the 
 book in which it appeared being now out of print. 
 
 In 1807, Mdlle. Lenormand had drawn the horoscope of the perjured 
 husband. She published this extraordinary prophecy in extenso in her 
 " Souvenirs of a sibyl " : 
 
 "The consulter is born under a lucky star; at his birth all the 
 stars were in favourable conjunction. The Sun, Mars, and Jupiter 
 showered their blessings on him. 
 
 " He was born in an island, which is now an integral part of France. 
 
 " His father is dead, he has four brothers and three sisters. Two 
 of his brothers have been married twice. 
 
 " His mother now resides in the capital, she owes a great deal to him. 
 
 "The character of the consulter is firm, decided; sometimes pensive, 
 more serious than gay, he holds much to his opinion, he does not like 
 to be governed, even by women, particularly avoiding giving them 
 too much ascendency; he grants his confidence with difficulty, he fears 
 to have his plans guessed, which makes him hide his smallest actions ; 
 he is sensitive to offence, forgiving it with difficulty ; he hates ingrati- 
 tude. 
 
 " From his earliest days he was destined for the military profession, 
 he has been instructed in the best principles, those indeed which con- 
 cern artillery. He was formerly attached to a respectable corps, and 
 was once even in a town besieged by water. 
 
 " He has been all over beautiful Italy, and has entered the capital of 
 the Christian world ; at one time he was there much thought of. 
 
 " The consulter has visited a country which in ancient times was 
 the cradle of a religion ; he must have been charged with a command 
 from which those who arranged to send him on this voyage did 
 not expect him to return ; even his wife was losing hope ; it had been 
 predicted to her and to his relations, that he would return, and hardly 
 had be been back three weeks or three months, than he was invested 
 with great powers (he was even twice exposed to great danger, once 
 by an explosion), and finally dictated laws to his greatest enemies. 
 
 " His wife is a foreigner; she is a very amiable woman, and thoroughly 
 
248 ($;ttVt0U)^ mjpam <>f ^t^tOtl)* 
 
 that she had much difficulty in " not taking her for a 
 man dressed up as a woman." 
 
 possesses that grace, that amenity which always causes those to whom 
 it is given to be sought after. 
 
 " She is gentle, and has a sensitive and good heart; her soul is great 
 and generous; she really loves him; she is doubly annoyed at the 
 present moment; she fears, and with just reason, that he does not 
 think enough of her . . . that idle gossip, repeated by the vulgar, may 
 later turn to certainty. 
 
 " The consulter must have made the acquaintance of this amiable 
 lady in quite a strange manner; a man in place may have given ad- 
 vice, but it was in the destiny of both that they should be united; 
 there are incredible things in life. She was the widow of a fair man, 
 esteemed in the array and who left her two children, a son and a 
 daughter. 
 
 " This lady had lost her first husband in a terrible manner ; by the 
 steel; she was herself shut up in a place which had formerly been a 
 palace but in those unhappy days had become a prison: to-day, this 
 beautiful monument has been restored to its original purpose. 
 
 "This wife, for more than one reason, should be dear to him; she 
 carries good fortune to all aiound her : she has but to wish you good luck 
 and it comes to you. In short, with her everything must succeed. 
 
 " Her son is married to a German of good family ; he resides in a 
 country where the people love good music; her daughter has married 
 a member of the consulter's family; she even bears his name. 
 
 " This young lady must have already resided in a country where 
 navigation and commerce form the wealth of the inhabitants ; she has 
 two sons, one is dead; a third is on the way and will come happily. 
 (Prediction accomplished ) 
 
 "My consulter is very uneasy; I see him even uncertain, which with 
 him is rare; for he knows how to take a decision at once. A 
 proceeding that his wife is about to take (and which he advises her) 
 will astonish many people, inwardly he cannot but be thankful to 
 her. Nevertheless this lady will meet with some obstacles — which 
 later will be removed. This proceeding will take place, but after 
 a certain time (28 moons at the most); and the consulter will 
 one day learn most painfully what this separation will have cost him. 
 
fflapoUon*^ ^npcvmtlon^. 249 
 
 She was satisfied on that day with the petit jeii (small 
 game, in which the whole pack of cards is not required) 
 and retired leaving on the table a crown-piece, 
 
 " The consulter's blood is heated, he even requires a little rest, which 
 hardly agrees with his ardent character. Moderate exercise becomea 
 necessary to him, as also uninterrupted perspiration. He sometimes 
 has pimples which appear on the surface of the skin. Even at the 
 present moment there are a few. (a) 
 
 " The name of the consulter will be repeated to the extremities of 
 the world: it will even be looked for not far from the country of the 
 great wall, (b) He will cooperate in great events. He will be the 
 mediator of great interests. It is predicted to him that he will be a 
 man unique of his kind. 
 
 " I have already said that he had seen part of Europe, and even of 
 Asia, but he will want to go still further . . . 
 
 " Consulter is a statesman, he often works in the secret of his cabinet 
 and will speak to the mightiest. He has three kinds of friends : some 
 true ones attached to him by gratitude; others attracted by his present 
 fortune ; others again are watching his slightest actions. As for 
 himself, the man must be very clever who can read through him. 
 He will rise to the greatest honours to which a mortal can aspire; 
 but if in seven years time from now he consults me, and remembers 
 my past predictions, all the better for him . . . 
 
 " For I see so many events for this consulter, that I should require 
 a folio to write them all . . ." 
 
 I was ignorant of the rank, and what was the fortune of the 
 person who consulted me; in drawing up this singular horoscope, in 
 which I have left even the faults of style, and of which I give here 
 but a brief extract, I remarked such astonishing and even striking 
 events, that I stopped myself, fearing to go too far ; nevertheless for my 
 own safety, I kept myself within just limits, and I gave latitude to my 
 thoughts only as far as did not carry me away from the rules of prudence. 
 
 a. Good Josephine used to dress his irritated skin every day at 
 the time I was penning this prediction; its singularity and justness 
 astonished them both; the fact was afterwards imparted to me by 
 eye-witnesses. 
 
 (6) Persia. 
 
250 a;uti0tt)§ 23l)VatI)§ of ^yi^tovih 
 
 When she got back to the palace, Josephine pressed 
 her with questions concerning her interview with Mdlle. 
 Lenormand ; and Mdlle. Avrillon concluded that, unless the 
 Empress was possessed of a great amount of dissimulation, 
 it seemed evident to her that until then Josephine had 
 never had any connection with the sibyl. 
 
 Mdlle. Avrillon adds, that it was not until shortly before 
 the divorce that Josephine decided for the first time to 
 consult Mdlle. Lenormand, and then only by correspondence, 
 and through the intermediary of one of her ladies of the 
 palace, " who believed more in these predictions than in 
 an article of faith." The reply was brought to Josephine 
 by the lady in question. 
 
 Mdlle. Avrillon admits that after the divorce Josephine 
 summoned Mdlle. Lenormand to La Malmaison, and that 
 she was charged by the Empress to conduct her there. 
 On this occasion Mdlle. Lenormand very obligingly offered 
 to Mdlle. Avrillon to tell her fortune, this time gra- 
 tuitously, and with the full game, but the latter thought 
 fit to decline this offer. 
 
 More than six months afterwards, a person gifted with every virtue, 
 a perfect model of filial love, Mademoiselle S. H. (of whom death has 
 so prematurely bereft her friends'), gave me a copy of the celebrated 
 thesis, (a) telling me that the messenger chosen to bring me the 
 month, day and hour of the birth of Bonaparte, was simply a 
 country wench, knowing neither how to read nor write, and who, 
 furthermore, was deaf....; she had been charged with the commission 
 by a person unknown to her, so much was it dreaded that she might 
 have some notions of the rank and importance of such a personage. 
 Souvenirs cC une sibylle, pp. 403 — 409. 
 
 (a) It was deposited in the Bureaux of the police on the llth De- 
 cember, 1809. 
 
9tapoU0n'^ ^npcvmtion^. 251 
 
 From the above narration there is but one thing to be 
 gathered, that Josephine did really communicate withMdlle. 
 Lenormand. Mdlle. Avrillon assures us that Josephine 
 had not visited the pythoness ; but on this point again we 
 shall contradict her by the evidence of a relation of Jose- 
 phine, who had also occasion to be often near her, and 
 who, in consequence, was likely to be cognizant of her 
 most trivial sayings and doings. 
 
 Josephine, writes the Princess of Canino (widow of 
 Lucien, the brother of Bonaparte), was at that time in 
 continual dread that the First Consul, anxious to have 
 children, which she was no longer able to give him, might 
 seek for a divorce. The question had been mooted on his 
 return from Egypt, not under the pretext of sterility but 
 of lightness of conduct. 
 
 It was at this moment that the incident of the broken 
 snuff-box occurred, which incited Josephine to consult 
 Mdlle. Lenormand concerning the future before her. 
 
 The First Consul, in a moment of irritation against his 
 brother Lucien, who had been reproaching him, allowed 
 his temper to carry him so far as to say to him : " I 
 will crush you as I crush this box ! " At the same time 
 hurling to the ground a gold snuff-box, on the lid of 
 which was the portrait of Josephine painted by Isabey. 
 
 The box was not broken, because there was a thick 
 carpet on the floor, but the portrait was detached from 
 the lid. Lucien picked up the box and the portrait, and 
 handed them to his brother, saying in a bitter tone: 
 " That is a pity ; it is the portrait of your wife that you 
 have broken, before you break with the original." 
 
 Mme. Bonaparte, on being informed of the incident, mani- 
 fested much anxiety on hearing that her portrait had 
 
252 ^uviott)^ ^i)paif)^ of ^yx^iovi). 
 
 detached itself from the box: '' Oh ! " she cried, " it is all 
 over! it is a sign of divorce! Bonaparte will separate 
 himself from me as the snuff-box separated itself from 
 the portrait ! " It was after this incident, that Josephine, 
 full of confidence in Mdlle. Lenormand, already a famous 
 fortune-teller, went to consult her, and thereby, not a 
 little contributed to the latter's celebrity. 
 
 She proposed to cover the portrait which had risked 
 destruction, with another absolutely identical, painted also 
 by Isabey. And the Princess of Canino adds: "We are 
 told that the snuff-box with the double portrait is at pres- 
 ent in the possession of the Duchess of Braganza, grand- 
 daughter of the Empress Josephine, by her father Eugene 
 de Beauharnais, a Prince of Leuchtenberg. In 1819 and 
 1820, Queen Hortense used still to relate at the house of 
 her mother-in-law Mme. Letizia, in Rome, how greatly 
 Madame Bonaparte had been alarmed at this incident, so 
 insignificant in itself. 
 
 * 
 
 A few days before the coronation, Josephine had the 
 presentiment of an impending misfortune. She suddenly 
 fell into a state of melancholy that nothing could dissi- 
 pate. * For some time she had flattered herself that Na- 
 
 * She is said to have wept bitterly during the whole of the cere- 
 mony which took place at Notre-Danie {Souvenirs d'une sibylle, p. 280). 
 
 Bausset has written in his Memoires that on the day of the coron- 
 ation, when Their Majesties got into the coach which was to convey 
 them, they made a mistake and sat down on the front seat. " This 
 observation is doubtless rather finical, but I know not why, I have 
 never been able to drive away the remembrance of it. Someone 
 more superstitious than myself would have attached greater importance 
 to it." Bausset, t. I, p. 29, quoted by Alb. Lombroso. 
 
fftapoUon'^ ^npcvmUon^. 253 
 
 poleon loved her too dearly ever to abandon her. * She 
 was bitterly undeceived. 
 
 When the divorce was pronounced and the sad cere- 
 mony was over, the Emperor was escorted to his private 
 apartments, where he remained the rest of the evening 
 without receiving anyone ; that night the palace was silent 
 as a tomb. 
 
 People accustomed to take notice of everything remarked, 
 that, during the ceremony, and notwithstanding the season, 
 a fearful tempest broke over Paris. Torrents of rain and 
 terrible blasts of wind struck terror into the minds of the 
 timorous ; it seemed as if the heavens manifested their 
 reprobation of the act which put an end to the happiness 
 of Josephine ; and, by an extraordinary coincidence, the 
 same phenomenon occurred on the same day and at the 
 same hour at Milan, f 
 
 We now come to the 1st January 1813. On that morn- 
 ing Josephine was under the influence of real terror. 
 
 "Have you noticed," said she to those about her, "that 
 the year commences on a Friday, § and that it is the year 
 
 * She was convinced that not only Napoleon, but his soldiers also 
 considered her as the Emperor's "luck-bearer". Parquin writes on 
 this subject in his Memoires (1892, p. 204): 
 
 " The name of Josephine was often on our lips at the time of our 
 disasters. Speaking of the Emperor, they (the soldiers) used to say: 
 he ought not to have quitted the old woman, she brought him good luck 
 and to us as ivell.'" 
 
 t Anecdotes du temps de Napoleon I, pp. 141— 142. 
 
 § " Josephine, whose mind had been impressed ever since the Fri- 
 day, first day of a year bearing the number 13, was much distressed 
 at the news of the death of Bessieres, and her terrors were reawakened. 
 As for Duroc, as she did not like him, she paid but slight attention 
 to his loss" (Turquan, V Imperatrice Josephine.) 
 
254 ©tttnott!^ m)pati}^ uf ^^m0t% 
 
 one thousand eight hundred and thirteen. This is a presage 
 of great misfortunes." 
 
 It was useless to remark to her that these signs, if 
 they really announced misfortune, must prognosticate it 
 equally to the whole world ; to other countries as well as 
 to France ; it was useless to explain to her that she had 
 no more cause for alarm than any one else : nothing could 
 remove her singular prepossession. During the entire day 
 she was still under the influence of this superstition and 
 she could not forbear from endeavouring to make every 
 one else partake in her fears. 
 
 Her daughter, Hortense, to whom she had given as "a 
 New-Year's present a splendid ornament of variously 
 coloured gems, which had cost 50,000 francs shared her 
 superstitious terrors. The evil days came and Josephine 
 did not fail to attribute them to the malign influence of the 
 Friday and of the number thirteen ; she could not under- 
 stand that they were rather the fatal consequences of the 
 Emperor's obstinacy in not consenting to conclude peace 
 when he could still have done so honourably, and also to 
 
 She was more affected at the death of Lannes, whose end she liad 
 as it were foreseen. Mdlle. Avrillon has related that when he was on 
 the point of starting for the campaign in Austria, in which he was 
 destined to meet so tragical a fate, Marshal Lannes, whether from 
 presentiment or for some other motive, had the utmost difficulty in 
 parting from his family, delaying his departure as long as he possibly 
 could. When he paid a visit to Josephine, the Empress, noticing his 
 dejection, could not refrain from making a remark on it. 
 
 "That is true," he answered; "for the first time I have a painful 
 feeling for which I cannot account, and I never before felt it so hard 
 to quit my family."" 
 
 When the news of his death arrived, Mdlle. Avrillon reminded Jose- 
 phine of the interview she had not long before had with the Marshal. 
 She did not fail to see therein a prophetic warning. 
 
^apoUon'^ ^npamtlon^. 255 
 
 his bad management of the campaign in Germany. But, 
 that, of course, she could not know. 
 
 This justice must be rendered to Napoleon, that, either 
 by calculation or by foresight, he possessed a power of 
 divination far superior to that which Josephine attributed 
 to herself. He seemed to have a prevision of what was 
 about to happen to him, and the hesitation with which 
 he has sometimes been reproached had no other causes 
 than inward warnings, which often providentially saved 
 him from a peril which he did not seem to wish to avoid. 
 
 It is well known that one of the greatest dangers that 
 ever menaced the life of Bonaparte, at the outset of his 
 career, was the explosion of the infernal machine, in the 
 Rue Nicaise, on the evening of the 24th October 1800. 
 An oratorio was to be performed. Josephine and some of 
 his intimate friends pressed him strongly to go there; he 
 evinced the utmost repugnance to go out. He was fast 
 asleep on a sofa; they were obliged to drag him from it, 
 one brought him his sword, another his hat, and in fact 
 they had to hustle him out. 
 
 Was not this repugnance rather a presentiment of the 
 catastrophe, than the result of chance ? 
 
 * 
 
 At Burgos, in 1808, the first information brought to 
 Napoleon, on his arrival, was a piece of bad news, and 
 
 * Joseph Turquan, V Imperatrice Josephine, loc. cit. 
 
256 (l^ttiriott)^ ^t^pait)^ uf ^movi). 
 
 that was sufficient to cause him to be haunted by the 
 most sinister forebodings. * 
 
 "VVhen he married Marie Louise, in 1810, f he was pain- 
 fully impressed by hearing of the burning of the Schwartzen- 
 berg palace; to him it was an evil omen, and the ex- 
 clamation that escaped him, at the battle of Dresden, at 
 sight of the disorder which a ball from one of his cannons 
 had caused in the Austrian staff, shows that this idea had 
 fully taken possession of his mind. " Schwartzenberg, " 
 said he, with an air of evident relief, "has purged off' 
 the fatality." This shows evidently that he had considered 
 the presage as addressed to himself. § 
 
 The whole of Napoleon's staff, accompanying him on 
 that day, 23rd August 1813, heard the expression. ** 
 
 In the same year 1813, Napoleon made another remark, 
 which again shows the peculiar dispositions of his mind: 
 " It is remarkable, " said he, " that Saint-Priest was 
 mortally wounded by the same gunner who killed General 
 
 * Vide Marco de Saint-Hilaire, Histoire de la garde imperiale, Brus- 
 sels, 1846, t. I, p. 35; quoted by Mr. Alberto Lorabroso in his curious 
 Bibliographie de I'epoque Napoleonienne. 
 
 t He did not either conceal from Marie-Louise that he considered 
 her to be the cause of all his misfortunes. 
 
 One afternoon as he returned on horseback from Saint- Cloud, and 
 the archduchess preceded him in her carriage, her cashmere shawl, 
 which was of a fiery red colour, fluttered from the window and 
 frightened the Emperor's horse which threw its rider. The carriage 
 stopped and the Emperor quickly got up again unhurt. Marie-Louise 
 expressed the greatest regret; but he gave her the following harsh 
 answer: "Madam, since you have been with me nothing but ill luck 
 attends me." The Empress burst into tears. [Bonapartiana, pp. 
 98—99). 
 
 § Guillois, loc. cit. p. 190. 
 
 ** Vide de Segur and the Manuscrit de 1813, by Baron Fain. 
 
yiapoUon'^ ^npemUxon^. 257 
 
 Moreau. There is reason to exclaim: Providence! 
 Providence ! " 
 
 On the other hand, the coincidence of the death of Desaix 
 with that of Kleber caused him no particular astonish- 
 ment. * 
 
 Speaking of General Laharpe, whom he styled : " a 
 grenadier in height and in heart," Napoleon used to say, 
 that during the entire evening which preceded the death 
 of this brave man, his anxiety and lowness of spirits had 
 been remarked. " He issued no orders, and was seemingly 
 deprived of his ordinary faculties, and ^dominated by a 
 fatal presentiment." f 
 
 But it was particularly in 1812, at the time of his fatal 
 
 * The death of Lasalle, the hero of Wagram, and that of Cervoni 
 made more impression upon him. 
 
 General Montholon, in his history of the captivity at Saint Helena, 
 attributes the following words to the Emperor: 
 
 "Paul I had soul, hut all his moral faculties were kept under by 
 that same instinct of fatality that I have often observed among my 
 own soldiers: Lasalle, for instance, who, in the middle of the night, 
 wiote to me from the bivouac on the battlefield of Wagram to ask 
 me to sign at once the decree of his title and estates as Count, and 
 send it to his wife's son, because he felt that he was to die in battle 
 next day, and the unfortunate man was right. 
 
 " It was the same with Cervoni, who was at my side at Eckmiihl, 
 exposed to fire for the first time since the war in Italy: 'Sire, you 
 have obliged me to quit Marseilles which I loved, by writing to me 
 that, for soldiers, the grades in the Legion of Honour could only be 
 earned before the enemy: here I am, but it is my last day;' and a 
 quarter of an hour later, a cannon ball carried his head off " 
 
 t Guillois, loc. cit., p. 191. 
 
 17 
 
258 (Inttou^ 23l)»>atp of ^ftMovi). 
 
 campaign in Russia, * that Napoleon had a real prophetic 
 warning of the misfortunes awaiting him. f 
 
 On the 23rd June, the eve of the passage of the Niemen, 
 before day-break, Napoleon arrived at the border of the 
 forest of Polwiski. The Emperor, who had come hither 
 in his carriage, mounted his horse and started off at a 
 gallop, with General Haxo and a small escort, to recon- 
 noitre the river in person. § 
 
 As usual. Napoleon proceeded at full gallop : suddenly 
 his horse stumbled, and rolled into a ditch, carrying his 
 rider with him. Everyone rushed forward, but the Em- 
 peror had already gained his feet, complaining only of a 
 slight bruise on the hip. 
 
 In such circumstances he used generally to get angry, 
 and to impute to those about him the blame of his own 
 awkwardness. On this occasion he did not speak a word, 
 agitated probably by fatal presentiments, for as one of 
 those who accompanied the Emperor said concerning the 
 incident : " in such great circumstances, on the eve of 
 
 * A Pole, perfectly acquainted with Russian history, told Napoleon 
 one day that there existed a saying among the Russians " that the 
 French would not come to Moscow as long as the cross remained on 
 the steeple of the church of John-Veliki.'" Bonaparte had this cross 
 taken down in order to justify the arrival of the French, proving 
 thereby to the Russian nation that his destinies icere being accom- 
 plished.'' The Anti-Napoleon, by a Corsican, p. 12. 
 
 t On three different occasions Napoleon could have escaped from 
 Saint Helena, as we read in the book called: Les Propheties de Napo- 
 leon (p. 11) he refused to leave Saint-Helena: "It is not my destiny, 
 
 said he. On the evening of the battle of Austerlitz Ilcnewthat I should 
 die in this atrocious island, of which an honourable dog {.sic) would not 
 consent to be King.^ 
 
 § Dumas, Le MaUre d'Armes, Paris, 1866; p. 6, quoted by Mr. 
 Alb. Lombroso, loc. cit. 
 
yiapoUon'^ ^npcvmtion^. 259 
 
 grave events, one becomes superstitious in spite of one's self." 
 At the end of a few moments, Caulincourt felt his hand 
 gripped by Berthier, who was galloping by his side, and 
 who said : " It would be better for us not to cross the 
 Niemen ; this fall is of evil omen. * 
 
 The Emperor appeared all the next day to be preoccupied 
 with this event, and his accident certainly caused him more 
 annoyance than the slight lameness which resulted from it. 
 Baron Denniee, on his part, in another account of this 
 campaign writes : f " Some citizens of Kowno had been 
 brought before Napoleon ... He learned that the Em- 
 peror Alexander assisted at a ball where, by a singular 
 coincidence, the flooring of the principal saloon gave way 
 towards midnight, at which hour the bridges had been 
 thrown over the Niemen. It may easily be understood 
 that all sorts of conjectures were made about this event, 
 to give it a favourable interpretation ! " § 
 
 * Bevue des Deux Mondes, 1894, p. 271, article by Mr. Alb. Vandal. 
 
 t Denniee, Itineraire de la Campagne de 1812, Paris, 1842, p. 17. 
 
 § Once only perhaps, did Napoleon have a fortunate presentiment. 
 
 It was a few days before his entry into Berlin : Napoleon was sur- 
 prised by a storm, on the road to Potsdam ; it was so violent and the 
 rain was so furious, that the Emperor was obliged to take refuge in 
 a house. Wrapped in his grey overcoat, he was surprised to see there 
 a young woman, who was visibly startled at his presence; she was 
 an Egyptian, who had preserved for him that religious veneration that 
 all the Arabs had for Napoleon. She was the widow of an officer of 
 the army of the East, and fate had taken her to Prussia, to this house 
 where she had been taken care of. The Emperor gave her a pension 
 of 1200 francs a year, and took charge of the education of her son, 
 the only inheritance left her by her husband : * This is the first time, " 
 said Napoleon to his officers, " that 1 dismounted to seek shelter from 
 a storm; I had a presentiment that a good action was awaiting me 
 here." Bonapartiana, p. 29. 
 
260 ($;uHou§ ^ijpatf)^ of ^mov^. 
 
 To judge by the events which followed * it would seem 
 as if Napoleon had indeed now exhausted the credit of 
 lucky days which had been plentifully granted to him by 
 Providence. 
 
 Our study of the Superstitions of Napoleon would be 
 incomplete, were we not to add that Napoleon had a dread 
 of certain dates, f of certain days, and of certain letters. 
 
 * Dr. Foissac relates the following anecdote, which well depicts the fore- 
 bodings of the Emperor as to the fatal issue of the campaign of 1815. 
 
 Together with General Corbineau, he was one morning walking 
 along the banks ef the Sambre, and approached the fire of a bivouac. 
 A pot was boiling, full of potatoes ; he asked for one, which he began 
 to eat, appearing to meditate, and then, not without a certain sadness, 
 he pronouneed the following broken words: 
 
 "After all, it's good, it's supportable... with that one might live 
 anywhere . . . the moment is perhaps not far off . . . Themistocles . . ." 
 and he resumed his walk. 
 
 The name of Themistocles is also mentioned in his letter to the 
 Prince-Regent, and it is impossible to see in this remembrance of the 
 name of the illustrious proscribed Athenian a mere play of the 
 imagination; but his mind found in this ancient misfortune an analogy 
 with his own, a presentiment of that which destiny reserved him. 
 {La Chance et la Destinie pp. 654 and 655.) 
 
 t Mr. Guillois cites the characteristic letter written by Napoleon 
 to Talleyrand, on the 25th December 1805, concerning the conclusion 
 of peace with Austria : " If there are no means of signing at once, 
 wait and sign at the New Year: for I have a few prejudices and I 
 should be glad if the peace were to date from the renewal of the 
 Gregorian calendar ; which presages, I hope, as much happiness to my 
 reign as did the old one. (Guillois, loc. cit. p. 190.) 
 
 There was in Napoleon's career a coincidence of dates which is at 
 loast strange: little Napoleon, the eldest son of Hortense, whom the 
 Emperor loved so much and whom he would perhaps have made his 
 heir, in which case the divorce would not have taken place, died of 
 croup on the 5th of May 1805, exactly fourteen years day for day 
 before the Emperor. 
 
mapoUon*^ ^npevmtlon^. 261 
 
 In this connection, when at Saint Helena, he called to 
 mind that it was on a Friday * that he entered the school 
 at Brienne, and that on seeing his father depart he burst 
 into a flood of tears. "Born," said he, "with a strong 
 propensity to superstition, I never undertook anything on 
 a Friday without apprehension ; moreover, I do not know 
 whether it was by pure chance or by reason of the 
 unfavourable state of mind into which the Friday put me, 
 but the enterprises which I commenced on that day always 
 
 On the other hand there are other dates, the 15th August for 
 instance, which rather brought him luck, of which Las Cases adduces 
 as an example the extraordinary favour with which fortune gratified 
 Napoleon during the voyage to Saint Helena: in the evening a game 
 at vingt-et-un used to be played; Admiral Cockburn and some other 
 Englishmen would sometimes join in. The Emperor used to withdraw 
 when he had as usual lost ten or twelve napoleons ; that happened to 
 him every evening, because he always played doubling his stakes. 
 One evening his napoleon brought him in one hundred ; he won every 
 time and Avished to continue; but he perceived that Admiral Cockburn 
 whose deal it Avas wished the game to cease. Everyone marvelled 
 at this extraordinary run of luck, when one of the Englishmen present 
 drew attention to the fact that it was the 15th August the birthday 
 and the fete of the Emperor. 
 
 He was fond of recapitulating the fortunate dates of his career: 
 
 Austerlitz; the anniversary of his coronation; Friedland; Marengo. 
 
 On the eve of the battle of Friedland, he thus addressed Marbot 
 (See Memoires de Marbot, t. I. p. 364): 
 
 "Have you a good memory?" 
 
 "Tolerable, Sire." 
 
 "Well then! What anniversary is it to-day, the 14th of June?" 
 
 " That of Marengo.* 
 
 " Yes, yes, that of Marengo, and I am going to beat the Russians 
 as I beat the Austrians." 
 
 * He took very good care never to fight a battle or to sign a treaty 
 on a Friday (Pitre, quoted by Sebillot in the Reeue des traditions 
 poptdaires, 1891, p. 389). 
 
262 (Ittttott)^ m)paii)^ Of ^mott}* 
 
 succeeded badly. For instance, among others, I remember 
 that the night of my departure from Saint Cloud for the 
 campaign in Russia, was a Friday night." 
 
 It was a superstition regarding dates that in 1815, 
 on his return from the Island of Elba, made him wish to 
 re-enter Paris on the 20th of March, * the anniversary of 
 the birth of the king of Rome. And yet, it was in the 
 night of the 19th to 20th March (1814), that being at 
 Fontainebleau, he perceived before him a broken mirror: 
 soon afterwards he was defeated at Waterloo, f The 
 
 * No date brought more souvenirs to his mind than the 20th March. 
 As a fact, the ephemerides of the 20th March in the life of Napoleon, 
 are particularly remarkable. 
 
 It was on the 20th March 1779 that Charles Bonaparte, the father 
 of Napoleon, came with his son to Paris for the purpose of placing 
 him at the military school at Brienne. 
 
 The 20th March 1785 Napoleon was informed of his father's death. 
 
 20th March 1794 Napoleon arrived in Nice as Commander in Chief 
 of the army of Italy. 
 
 20th March 1800, battle of Heliopolis. 
 
 20th March 1804, the Duke of Enghien was shot in the night at 
 Vincennes. 
 
 20th March 1808, abdication of Charles IV of Spain. 
 
 20th March 1809, battle of Abendsberg. 
 
 20th March 1811, birth of the King of Rome. 
 
 20th March 1814, taking of Toul. 
 
 20th March 1815, return of Napoleon to Paris. 
 
 20th March 1821, Napoleon wrote the last codical to his will at 
 Saint Helena. 
 
 t While he was at Saint Helena, Mr. de Montholon had a daughter: 
 he asked the Emperor if he would deign to be her godfather, and 
 Napoleon consented. When Mr. de Montholon had gone : " Alas ! I did 
 not dare to tell him," exclaimed Napoleon, "that his daughter was 
 born on an unlucky day: to-day is the anniversary of Waterloo." 
 {PropMties de Napoleon, p. 88.) 
 
fJflapoUon'^ ^npcvBiiUon^. 263 
 
 remembrance of the broken looking-glass came back to 
 him after the battle ; suddenly he interrupted the dejected 
 silence of those around him with this exclamation : 
 " D . . . . d mirror ! I had indeed foreseen it ! " * 
 
 The number thirteen always caused him an apprehension 
 that he could scarcely combat. M. d'Hedouville relates 
 how attentively he listened to the account he gave him 
 of the death of d'Esmenard, the author of the Poeine de 
 la Navigation. Exiled pro forma to Italy, Esmenard was 
 preparing to return to France. On the eve of his departure 
 from Naples, he took part in a banquet given in his 
 honour by some Frenchmen among whom was Mr, d'He- 
 douville. All at once he noticed that they were thirteen 
 at table and became quite troubled. First of all the 
 others joked about the matter, and then tried to reason 
 with him ; but nothing could divert him, nor dissipate his 
 sad presentiments. He started the next day, and his 
 carriage being upset near to Fondi, he fell over a precipice 
 and was killed : or, as some suppose, he was assassinated 
 by brigands, f 
 
 Napoleon did not only attribute a cabalistic influence 
 to days and dates. 
 
 By what seems an inexplicable bizarrerie he always 
 considered the letter M as fateful. 
 
 This prepossession was not quite so unjustifiable as it 
 at first may seem to be. 
 
 Mortier had been one of his best generals. 
 
 * See la France Nouvelle, 10th September 1889. 
 
 t Cited by Dr. Foissac in La Chance et la Destinee. 
 
264 ^uttou)^ ©l|^rtt^§ of ^moti). 
 
 Three of his ministers were named Maret, Mollien, 
 Montalivet. 
 
 The name of his first chamberlain was Montesquieu. 
 
 The Duke of Bassano, Maret, was his favourite adviser. 
 
 Six of his marshals had names commencing with the 
 letter 31: Massena, Marmont, Macdonald, Mortier, Moncey 
 and Murat. 
 
 Marboeuf was the first to recognize his capacities at 
 the military school. 
 
 But Moreau was a traitor to him, f Mallet conspired 
 against him, Murat abandoned him; as also did Marmont. 
 
 Metternich had beaten him on the diplomatic field. 
 
 It was to Captain Maitland that he surrendered on board 
 the Bellerophon. 
 
 Marengo was, it is true, his first victory, gained over Gen- 
 eral Melas, a predestined name! — He also gained the battles 
 of Montenotte, Millesimo, Mondovi, Montmirail, Montereau. 
 
 On the contrary, he was completely crushed at Mont- 
 Saint-Jean (Waterloo). 
 
 Milan was the first city he entered as a conqueror ; 
 Moscow was the last. 
 
 He lost Egypt with Menou, and it was Miollis who, by 
 his order, took the Pope prisoner. 
 
 At Saint Helena, two of those who remained faithfully 
 attached to him, were his valet de chambre Marchand, and 
 General Montholon. 
 
 * On another occasion, in 1814, the resistance of Soissons might 
 have saved the Emperor, by securing for him the result of his flank 
 march on the allied forces: the name of the General commanding in 
 that town was Moreau; he opened the gates too soon, and Napoleon, 
 seeing his plan fail, exclaimed : " That name Moreau has always 
 brought me ill luck." (Guillois, loc. a't. p, 190). 
 
fflapoUon'^ ^tt^cvmtton^. 265 
 
 Finally was it not at La Malmaison that he passed the 
 only few hours of calm and happiness that he enjoyed 
 during his chequered existence. 
 
 It was at La Malmaison that the following adventure is 
 said to have happened to him and with the account of 
 which we shall terminate this study. 
 
 It was shortly after his coronation. The Emperor had 
 in his hands a very old book, which had just been brought 
 to him. 
 
 The book bore the title : Licres de ProphSUes by Master 
 Noel Olivarius, Doctor of medicine. "Here," said Napo- 
 leon, handing to the Empress this parchment covered book 
 yellow with age, " see what it is and read it to us." 
 
 And Josephine read aloud : 
 
 " Prediction of Master Noel Olivarius. " 
 
 "Well?" said the Empress. 
 
 " It is said that I am spoken of therein " replied the 
 Emperor. 
 
 "What? in a book published in 1542?" 
 
 " Well, read it." 
 
 The Empress tried to read it ; but as the language was 
 old French and the characters badly formed, she took 
 some moments to first read over to herself the three pages 
 composing the chapter, and then with a firm voice she 
 commenced as follows: 
 
 " Italian Gaul shall see born not far from her bosom, a 
 supernatural being: this man will come early from the 
 sea, will come to learn the language and manners of the 
 
266 O^ttftouig ^\)patf)$ of ^movi). 
 
 Celtic-Gauls, will open to himself, .though still young, and 
 through a thousand obstacles, a career among soldiers, and 
 will become their greatest chief. This sinuous road will 
 give him much trouble, he will wage war near to his na- 
 tive land for a lustre and more .... 
 
 " He will wage war beyond the seas with great glory 
 and valour, and warring once again throughout the Roman 
 world .... Will give laws to the Germans, will spread 
 trouble and terror among the Celtic-Gauls and will then 
 be called King, but afterwards will be called Imperator by 
 an enthusiastic people. 
 
 " He will wage war everywhere throughout the Empire, 
 driving out princes, lords, and kings, for two lustres and 
 more .... 
 
 " He will come to the city, commanding many great 
 things : edifices, sea-ports, aqueducts, canals ; he will alone 
 by means of great riches accomplish as much as all the 
 Romans, and all within the domination of the Gauls. Of 
 wives he will have two .... And but one son only. 
 
 " He will go on warring until where the lines of longitude 
 and latitude do cross fifty-five months (sic). There his 
 enemies will burn a great city and he will enter there and 
 go out again with his men from beneath the ashes and 
 great ruins, and his men having neither bread nor water, 
 by great and killing cold, will be so unfortunate that two 
 thirds of his army will perish, and further one half of 
 others, then no longer under his domination. 
 
 " Far away, the great man abandoned, treacherously for- 
 saken by his own, hunted out in his turn, with great loss 
 in his own city by great European population : in his place 
 will be put the old King of the cape. («) 
 
 (a) King Capet? (Transl) 
 
fflapoUon'^ ^xtpevmtioxt^. 267 
 
 * He compelled to be in exile in the sea whence he came 
 so young, and near to his native land, living there for 
 eleven moons with a few of his own true friends and 
 soldiers, who were only seven times two in number, as 
 soon as the eleven moons are run, he and his men take 
 ship and land in the country of Celtic-Gaul. 
 
 " Driven out once more by European trinity, after three 
 moons and one third of a moon, is again replaced by old 
 King of the cape, whereat he is thought to be dead by 
 his soldiers, who in these times will press Penates to 
 their heart .... 
 
 " And he, saving the ancient remains of the old blood of 
 the cape, rules the destinies of the world, dictating, sover- 
 eign counsel of every nation and of every people, fixes 
 basis of everlasting fruit and dies . . . . " 
 
 Josephine, surprised at what she had just read, closed 
 the book and asked Napoleon what he thought of this 
 strange prediction. But the Emperor not wishing to appear 
 to attach any importance to the prophecies of Master 
 Olivarius by commenting on them, contented himself with 
 replying : . " Predictions always say what you exactly want 
 them to say; though I admit that this one has much 
 astonished me." And he changed the conversation. 
 
 What is most singular is that the history of this proph- 
 esy was not written afterwards, as might be supposed. 
 
 The first person who unearthed the book of Olivarius, 
 was rran9ois de Metz, cousin of Francois de Neufchateau 
 and secretary general to the Commune of Paris. 
 
 One day in June 1793, a great many libraries had been 
 
268 G;utt0U)§ ^i)paif)^ of ^mov^, 
 
 pillaged; the big hall in which these papers were collected 
 was full. FranQois de Metz and several employees were 
 busy sorting the manuscripts, for on that day but few 
 printed books had been brought in. 
 
 Most of the books came from the libraries of palaces or 
 from monasteries. The demagogues had brought them 
 there in heaps : some were preserved and others were 
 burned. Up till that moment the employees of the Com- 
 mune had only catalogued books of little importance, when 
 a small 12mo volume attracted their attention. 
 
 It was the Book of Prophecies composed by Philippe 
 Noel Olivarius, " Doctor of medicine, Surgeon and Astrol- 
 oger." The book contained several other prophecies, 
 without the name of the author, but this one was signed. 
 On the last page was the word Finis in Gothic letters, 
 and lower down : 1542, in XVIth century figures. 
 
 Fran9ois de Metz read it through, but failed to make 
 out the sense, as he admitted to his daughter Mme. de M. . . . 
 Nevertheless, on account of the singularity of the book, 
 he copied it and added it to several others which were 
 afterwards found among his papers. The textual copy of 
 the prophecy of Olivarius, in the hand-writing of FranQois 
 de Metz, is dated the year 1793; there can be no doubt 
 on the subject. * 
 
 * The Memorial de Rouen of 1840 having inserted the prophecy of 
 Olivarius in one of its numbers, a lady residing in Rouen, in the Rue 
 Beauvoisine, went to the office of the paper, and asked to see the 
 number in question, in order to compare it with a copy she had herself 
 taken from the book of Olivarius before the Revolution, and long 
 before Bonaparte was thought of. With the exception of two words 
 the two copies were exactly similar. (See Memorial of 1st October 1840.) 
 
^tapoUon'^ ^tipamtion^. 269 
 
 Bonaparte had smiled when in 1800 he read this proph- 
 esy : but in 1806, he could not read it again without 
 turning pale. It is said, * that at that time he consulted 
 a theologian of the seminary of Saint Sulpice, asking him 
 whether religion obliged one to believe in prophecy. The 
 priest answered, without much compromising himself, in 
 the words of the creed: " The Spirit of God spake through 
 the prophets." 
 
 This prophecy was printed in 1815, and afterwards 
 inserted in the Memoires de Josephine (Editions of 1820 
 and 1827). It is said to have been lastly published in a 
 book that we have been unable to discover: the liecueil 
 de propMties published by a bookseller named Bricon. 
 
 When this prophecy is examined with a certain amount 
 of attention, it may be noticed that all which relates to 
 the reign of Napoleon and to the return of the Bourbons 
 came to pass exactly. But by torturing the text, it is 
 equally possible to discover therein the troubles of 1827, 
 the plots of the Liberals and . . . even the Revolution of 
 1830! 
 
 * * 
 
 We will waste no more time over these dreams mixed 
 up with extravagancies, but we judged it proper to avoid 
 at least the reproach of not being armed with sufficient 
 authorities (they may be, in fact, styled almost redundant) 
 in order to prove that Napoleon had a marked leaning 
 towards the supernatural. 
 
 Notwithstanding all, and having arrived now at the 
 end of this study, we must admit with some embarrass- 
 ment that we hesitate to draw conclusions. Napoleon was 
 
 • Almanack Astrologique, 1849, pp. 104 — 109. 
 
270 i^nvion^ f&ijpaif^^ of ^yt^iovi). 
 
 at once the intuitive man and the man of action ; let us 
 admit that this faculty of intuition was pushed so far as 
 to enable him to guess the future, to give him that far 
 insight which will sometimes reveal to him beforehand 
 events still hidden in the undefined haze of a distant 
 future, and we shall be enabled to explain those presenti- 
 ments, those prophecies, which a superficial examination 
 would have so easily induced us to liken to idle dreams. 
 If to that is added that he was gifted with a most fertile 
 imagination and immeasurable ambition (which prodigious 
 good fortune had not a little contributed to develop), 
 besides what has been so happily styled the intoxicating 
 madness of power, will there be cause for astonishment 
 that he should harbour the illusion to believe and pro- 
 claim himself divine, — much more a god than a prophet? 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 Napoleon had faith in Providence and in an immortal 
 soul, and this admixture of fatalism and of spiritualism 
 is not so contradictory as it would at first sight appear. 
 He believed not only that the soul was separate from 
 the body ; but that it could live a life of its own in an 
 atmosphere special to itself, which is a domain that our 
 senses do not permit us to explore, the domain of the 
 occult and of the marvellous. 
 
 "Chance, so often alluded to," said he in 1816, "chance 
 of which the ancients made a divinity, which every day 
 astounds us, falls upon us at every moment ; chance, after 
 all only appears so singular to us, so fantastical, because 
 we ignore the secret and quite natural causes which have 
 brought it about, and this occult combination it is that 
 
^^apoUon'^ ^npcvHiiton^. 271 
 
 suffices to create the marvellous and to breed mysteries. " * 
 Does not that signify, that for Napoleon chance was 
 a factor which it was necessary to take into account, as 
 well as everything that produces great things, although 
 our human intelligence naturally limited, does not always 
 succeed in giving us a satisfactory explanation. 
 
 As for justifying his superstitious manias^ the task would 
 be too arduous for us to attempt to undertake it. 
 
 Far from judging too severely the diverse conceptions 
 of a brain which may have had moments of weakness 
 from intense overwork, we prefer adopting the opinion 
 expressed by one of the most rational of Napoleon's 
 panegyrists: that man is necessarily imperfect, and that 
 however high he may rank in the hierarchy of intelligence, 
 there will always be found in him, by reason of psycho- 
 logical predispositions, the characters of weakness that 
 remind him of the common and inferior origin of the 
 human creature, f 
 
 * Guillois, loc. cit. p. 156. 
 t Id., ibidem. 
 
THE CASE 
 
 OP 
 
 MADAME RECAMIEK 
 
 18 
 
„?)ct tfji§ rule 3 abi)t§c ^mi, iW i)ou cotntnumcatc t)uloar 
 §ccrct§ to tJulpv fricttb§, but ^iofjcr anb secret to tjiflfjcr 
 ttiib Secret frienbS onti). 6iDe ^ai) to an oy, anb Suoar to a 
 parrot onli) ; unbergtaub iiu) ineauiiiG, Ie§t ijou Be trob unber 
 t^c oren'g feet, a§ oftentimes it fell out. 
 
 The Abbot o/" #/ie Monastery of Peapolis to Cornelils 
 Agrippa, the astrologer of Charles V. {Ann. 1510.) 
 
THE " CASE " OF MADAME RECAMIER. 
 
 T is a source of astonishment to all writers who 
 have taken an interest in Mnie. Recamier, that this 
 queen of beauty should have ruled hearts and minds by 
 the power of her charms alone. 
 
 This rare gift was possessed by Mme. Recamier in the 
 highest degree. There were other women more beautiful, 
 none was ever more seductive ; and this fascinating power 
 did not help her only to conquer an umber of adorers, but 
 also to keep them as so many devotees prostrated at 
 the feet of their Divinity. 
 
 By her side, love changed into friendship without leaving 
 the least malice in disappointed hearts; it seemed as if 
 what had been hoped for was too exalted, and the little 
 she granted was still a greater boon than the love of 
 other women.* 
 
 Could it then be possible that " her heart was inacces- 
 sible to any but placid sentiments," and that, like a 
 salamander, she had the privilege of passing through 
 flames unscathed? 
 
 * Correspondance litteraire, 25 Dec. 1859, article by Mr. Vattier. 
 
 275 
 
276 a^uvlon^ ^t)paif)^ of ^mott). 
 
 Ought we to give her the merit of that virtue which 
 historians have been pleased to recognize in her? 
 
 Would it be too hardy to attribute it to a vice of phys- 
 ical organisation which would suffice to explain what 
 might otherwise have been mistaken, very wrongly, for 
 more or less calculated reticence? 
 
 When the number of those who succumbed to the 
 incomparable fascination of this siren is taken into con- 
 sideration, without a single one of them having been able 
 to flatter himself with having conquered her; when the 
 talent is observed which she engaged to spare so many 
 susceptibilities, " ready to revolt at a smile, a word or a 
 more or less trifling attention," is it to be imputed to 
 delicacy, to exquisite tact or, rather to a complete absence 
 of physical sensation? 
 
 It is in the Souvenirs which retrace the life of Mme. 
 Recamier that we are tempted to seek the solution of this 
 strange mystery. Others before us have felt the same 
 temptation, and their anticipations were not completely 
 thwarted : hardly are the first pages of this memorial 
 opened than the enigma is almost easy to decipher. 
 
 " When, in 1793, M. Itecamier asked for the hand of 
 Juliette, he was himself forty-two years old, and she was 
 only fifteen. It was, however, quite voluntarily, without 
 fear or repugnance, that she accepted his offer ... M. 
 Recamier never had any other than a paternal relationship 
 to his wife; he never treated the young and innocent 
 child who bore his name otherwise than as girl whose 
 beauty charmed his eyes, and whose celebrity flattered his 
 vanity. " 
 
5C ^f)t)H0i0^\cal ^v0Uem. 2 7 7 
 
 A lover of forty-two is rather old; but he is not yet 
 reduced to the part of the heavy father of comedy. 
 
 But, it has been remarked, * between the lover and the 
 father, there was another place, that of husband; why was 
 it not occupied? 
 
 From which side came the resistance? From the hus- 
 band? but he was much in love; and, besides, he had not 
 yet come to the age of voluntary abdication. 
 
 Therefore would not the fault seem to be imputable 
 to the wife?t 
 
 * Correspondance litteraire, loc. cit. 
 
 t The following unpublished letter, addressed by Ballanche to one 
 of his correspondents, M. Sauvage de Saint-Marc, on the occasion 
 of the death of M. Recamier, sheds a new light on the nature of 
 the attachment professed by Mme. Recamier for her husband : 
 
 "SOth March. 
 " Sir, and dear friend, 
 
 " I begin by announcing painful news to you. M. Recamier had 
 been unable to quite recover from the malady which he had while 
 you were in Paris. Did he perhaps venture out too soon, or was it 
 that he ought to have taken more care of himself? But the fire- 
 side was too tedious for him ; that is easy to understand in a man 
 who was so accustomed to an active life out of doors. Perhaps also, 
 it may have been that his age no longer permitted him to success- 
 fully resist that chronic catarrh, from which I have always known 
 him to suffer, and which caused him frequent attacks of pneumonia. 
 On Sunday evening he was rudely shaken by an access of that 
 nature. His strength was exhausted, and he expired the following 
 day, that is to say on Monday, at half past three in the afternoon. 
 In the morning it was hoped that he might get better, oc at all 
 events that with great care his life might be prolonged for some 
 months. Doctor Recamier saw no immediate danger. It was only 
 towards three o'clock in the afternoon that the symptoms of his 
 malady became alarming, at half past three he was dead. So you 
 see the end was neither long nor painful. But we were all of us 
 aflFected by this unexpected blow. He died in the presence of Doctor 
 
278 iS^mion^ 25l)^atp of ^moti). 
 
 Then agaiin it is difficult to form a very precise opi- 
 nion, — to judge, at all events, only by the confidences of 
 the interested party, or rather by those who were the 
 closest witnesses of her life. 
 
 If we question the latter, that is to say Mme. Lenormant, 
 the author of the best informed work concerning Mmc. 
 Recamier, of whom she was the niece, they give us the 
 following answer, which serves but to increase our em- 
 barrassment : 
 
 " She was wanting in those affections which are the 
 true felicity and the real dignity of woman : she was neither 
 wife 7ior mother, and her arid heart, hungry for tenderness 
 and devotedness, sought its nurture in a passionate homage 
 the language of which was pleasing to her ears." 
 
 This want of love would seem to have been able to meet 
 with satisfaction, on a certain occasion: this was at Coppet, 
 when she listened to the sentimental declarations of Prince 
 Augustus of Prussia. 
 
 On this occasion, at all events, the angelic creature 
 consented for once, to don her terrestrial envelope. 
 
 Recamier and of another physician who had accompanied him. He 
 expired while the priest was administering to him extreme unction. 
 Mme. Recamier, who had not quitted him, was also there. Mme. 
 Lenormant was in the next room, without being aware that the end 
 was so imminent. But she knew that the final catastrophe could 
 not be long delayed. Mme. Recamier had been unwell for the last 
 few days; Mme. Lenormant also was not very well. She was rather 
 fatigued by a pregnancy the term of which was approaching. How- 
 ever there is every reason to believe that she will this time come 
 safely to port. Mme. Recamier was more cast down than any of us, 
 because she had never believed that M. Recamier's health was so 
 much shattered as it was in reality. She relied upon his strong 
 constitution which, according to her, would still give him several 
 years to live ..." 
 
 / 
 
5t ^i)\)^i0i0^ical ^tohUm. 279 
 
 Mme. Recamier had been positively touched and moved 
 by the impassioned accents of the Prussian prince. 
 
 " For a moment she accepted his oifer of marriage ; a 
 proof not only of the sincere passion, but of the esteem 
 of a prince of royal blood, strongly imbued with ideas of 
 the privileges and dignities of his rank. 
 
 " Promises were exchanged. The kind of bond which had 
 united the lovely Juliette to M. Recamier was of that 
 nature which the Catholic religion itself declares null. 
 Ceding to the emotion of the sentiment she inspired in 
 Prince Augustus, Juliette wrote to M. Recamier asking 
 him to consent to the rupture of their union. He replied 
 that he would consent to the annulling of their marriage, 
 if such was her desire, but appealing to all the sentiments 
 of the noble heart to whom he addressed himself, he 
 reminded her of the affection he had entertained towards 
 her since her infancy, he even expressed a regret for having 
 respected certain susceptibilities and repugnances without which 
 the thought of such a separation could never have arisen; 
 but he added, that if Mme. Recamier persisted in her reso- 
 lution, to break their union, he begged that the separation 
 might take place, not in Paris, but in some place out of 
 France, to be fixed upon between them." 
 
 An appeal to such noble sentiments was heard, and M. 
 Recamier continued to be the husband of the lovely Juliette. 
 
 But Prince Augustus was not the only one to occupy 
 the Souvenirs of Mme, Recamier. We can also read in 
 this martyrology the names of: Ballanche, "an innocent 
 and tender soul, to whom abnegation was never a sacrifice ; " 
 Duke Mathieu de Montmorency, " an ardent heart, tempered 
 
280 autiott)^ ©l)))atp of ^i^totl). 
 
 by faith;" and lastly, Chateaubriand. They did not all 
 die, but they were all wounded. 
 
 Among the lot, however, is there not one, who could 
 boast of having taken possession ? Not one ; not even 
 Chateaubriand, inclined as he was to the sin of vanity. 
 
 In this connection, it is related, that one day Mme. Hor- 
 tense Allard, the blue-stocking who wrote her living 
 reminiscences under the singular title of: Les Enchante- 
 ments de Prudsnce^ reproached the author of the Memoires 
 d' Outre Tombe (Chateaubriand), her lover for the nonce, 
 with his infidelities with the goddess of L'Abbaye-aux- 
 Bois (Mme. Recamier). 
 
 " My dear Hortense, " replied Chateaubriand, in order to 
 calm her, " you make me laugh with jour jealousy. Mme. Re- 
 camier is for me neither a love, nor a friendship, a custom 
 in fact thatis nothing more than a habit.^ 
 
 It may suffice to add that at that time Chateaubriand 
 was a septuagenarian, in order that our readers may know 
 what sense may be iittached to this affirmation, which 
 otherwise might be interpreted differently. 
 
 Chateaubriand, at his age, would have been but badly 
 filled to play the part of Cherubino. If he ever had that 
 foolish notion, the following quatrain, had it chanced to 
 come before his eyes, ought to have sufficed to confine 
 his pretentions to their proper limits: 
 
 Juliette et Rene s'aimaient d'aniour si tendre 
 Que Dieu, sans les punir a pu leur pardonner, 
 11 n'avait pas voulu que I'une pM donner 
 Ce que I'autre ne pouvait prendre.* 
 
 * Julietle and Rene loved each other so, 
 That God, — compassionate for mortal's woe 
 Would not permit the one to bestow 
 A pleasure the other could never know. 
 
5C ^i}i)^xoi0^kal ^}^v0i>Unu 281 
 
 The mystery clears up singularly, and we are very 
 near seeing through it. 
 
 Artifices of language in vain seek to hide the truth ; 
 it still will break forth. 
 
 Guizot had the ability to clearly hint at a thing without 
 saying it in so many words, but his periphrase allows the 
 veiled meaning to appear so clearly that the question is 
 whether anything could possibly be added : 
 
 "Madame Recamier," writes this subtle diplomatist, 
 " wanted two things which alone can fill the heart and 
 the joy of a woman . . . the joys of family love and the 
 transports of passion. Are we to seek the cause in her 
 destiny or in the very ground of her nature?" 
 
 A writer who uses less ceremony, although he was the 
 pupil of one who was a master in the art of saying every 
 thing without transgressing the rules of propriety, A. J. 
 Pons, who had been one of the secretaries of Sainte-Beuve, 
 has said, more explicitly than Guizot: 
 
 " Nature forbade her to give herself up wholly, and none of 
 her adorers could pass the bar which defended her virtue. " 
 
 It is not impossible, to say more clearly that it was 
 a fault of conformation that gave Mme. Recamier full 
 latitude to give herself up to flirtation which she knew 
 could not compromise her? 
 
 A lively poetaster, still more irreverent, has written 
 that the lovely Juliette could no more go to happiness 
 than she could lead others there, because, says our quidam, 
 
 The streamlet of love was dammed across. 
 
 For a man who most probably had not been there to 
 see, this was an audacious affirmation. 
 
2S2 a:uiriou$ fl^\}paif)^ of ^motiy. 
 
 We would not like to be accused of greater temerity, 
 in going beyond the field of permissible hypothesis. It 
 is therefore only an hypothesis that we will risk in com- 
 paring together the case of Mme. Recamier with the case of 
 queen Elizabeth of England, * and also with that which 
 
 * Queen Elizabeth presented an . . anomaly nearly similar. This 
 is what we read on that subject in the Curiosites de la Utterature, 
 (t. 2, p. 502): 
 
 "No one doubts that Queen Elizabeth of England had experienced 
 the passion of love in its highest degree, particularly for her favour- 
 ite the Earl of Essex ; but all our readers are not aware that this 
 passion "never could I'eceive satisfaction; physical reasons opposed it: 
 the satisfaction of her love ivould have entailed the loss of her life. 
 She was so strongly convinced of the truth of this, that one day, 
 when she was warmly pressed by the Duke of Alen9on to marry 
 him, she replied that she did not think herself so little loved by her 
 subjects that they should wish to see her die a premature death." 
 
 The curiosity of the reader Avill find food for observation in some 
 strange anecdotes concerning our Virgin Queen, in Marie keine 
 d'Ecosse vengee, by Mr. Whitaker. " She could neither," he says, in 
 rather too pronounced language, " fulfil the duties of a wife, nor 
 taste the pleasures of a prostitute: she was constantly seeking to 
 extinguish a fire which consumed her." 
 
 Pierre Bayle, in his Dictionnaire, 5th edit (1734) vol. 11., page 
 720), a work now little consulted, but very valuable still for its out- 
 of-the-way and really profound enquiries, has the following concern- 
 ing the physical formation of Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 " Je ne sai pas si tout ce que Ton a dit ou ecrit des amours et 
 des amans de la Reine Elizabeth est bien vrai; mais il est certain 
 qu'elie n'avait point de vulve; et que la meme raison, qui I'empe- 
 chait de se marier, la devait empescher d'aimer le deduit. EUe pou- 
 vait bien aimer, et elle aima en effet passionnement le Comte d'Essex ; 
 mais de la maniere qu'elie etait faite, elle ne pouvoit connoitre 
 charnellement aucun homme, sans souffrir d'extremes douleurs, ni 
 devenir grosse; sans s'exposer inevitablement a perdre la vie dans 
 le travail de I'accouchement. Et elle en etait si persuadee, qu'un 
 jour qu'elie fut priee avec des instances importunes, de vouloir 
 
5C ^i)\)mi0QUai ^voUmu 283 
 
 one of our most distinguished colleagues * has described 
 at length in a novel which had its hour of celebrity, and 
 which has permitted all women afflicted with the infirmity 
 of Mme Recamier, to be treated as the eternallij wounded, f 
 
 epouser le Due d'Alen9on, qui la recherchoit avec passion, elle 
 repondit, qu'elle ne croioit pas 6tre si peu aimee de ses sujets qu'ils 
 voulussent I'ensevelir avant le tems." 
 
 Amelot de la Houssaie (Lettres d'Oifat vol. III., p. 399). 
 
 We may explain that Amelot de la Houssaie is commenting on 
 the letter Cardinal d'Opfat had written from Rome, 1st February, 
 1595, with reference to a Discourse of POPE CLEMENT VIII regarding 
 the state of England at that time and the possibility of its being 
 reconquered, and it is under. "Remark III" anent the probability of 
 a successor to the Queen of England that the passage cited occurs. 
 
 We subjoin a translation of this passage for those unable to read 
 the original. 
 
 "5 ftttow not wljetber all tbat bas \3zc\\ eafb or written 
 concerning tbe loves anb tbe lovers of (Stueen jElisabetb be 
 quite true; but it is certain tbat sbe bab no vulva, an5 tbat 
 tbe same reason vvbtcb bin&ereC) ber from marrgtng, preven* 
 teb ber baving an» inclination for tbe pastime. Sbe coulD 
 love, anD tnOeeJ) sbe passionately loveD JEssej; but bg reason 
 of tbe \va\> sbe was mabe, sbe coulD bave no carnal ftnow* 
 lebge of man witbout suffering excessive pains, nor become 
 pregnant witbout inevitably exposing berself to lose ber life 
 in tbe labour of bringing fortb. Bub sbe was so couvinceb 
 of tbis, tbat one Da^ wben tbe 2)uFie of Blencon wbo, arbenthj 
 i\\ love witb ber, was urgently? importuning ber to marrg: 
 sbe answereC) bim, tbat sbe Mb not believe tbat ber subjects 
 caret) so little for ber as to wisb ber in tbe grave before ber 
 time." 
 
 * Mr. Vigne d'Octon (Dr. Paul Vigne). 
 
 t We recommend those of our readers whom the subject may 
 interest, to consult the learned Traite de Gynecologie (3rd edition) of 
 our master Dr. S. Pozzi, in the chapters : Stenoses et atresies de In 
 vulve et du vagin, p. 1165; Vaginisme, p. 1072 — 1077; Malformations 
 
284 a:uttott$ f&\)paii)^ of ^movt). 
 
 The following note has been furnished us by a medical 
 friend; we decided to insert it because it shows that the 
 Recamier case is not so isolated as may at first appear. 
 
 " While a student in a German University, some years 
 agO; I was intimately acquainted with a young doctor who 
 had just been appointed resident surgeon to a military 
 hospital. He decided to marry, and being young and 
 handsome, had no difficulty in finding a willing partner. 
 His choice fell upon a charming young lady whom he had 
 long admired and who reciprocated his feelings. 
 
 " The marriage took place and joy seemed to await the 
 fortunate pair; but alas! there was a bar to their mutual 
 happiness, an impediment of so sturdy a nature that intro- 
 mission was impossible, or could only have been gained 
 by an effort of cruel brutality. Under these circumstances 
 surgical intervention was resorted to as the only means 
 to overcome the difficulty. A colleague having been called 
 in, a careful examination was made of the case, and an 
 operation decided on. The patient having been chloro- 
 formed, a rapid cruciform incision removed the objectionable 
 barrier, and thenceforward the nights of the honey-moon 
 glided smoothly on and presented no further difficulties. 
 Ultimately the lady lived to see crop up around her 
 several charming little pictures of herself." 
 
 FICTITIOUS VIRGINITY. 
 The following has been sent us by a West End doctor 
 of wide travel, who vouches for the truth of the practice. 
 
 du vagin, p. 1217; Absence de la vtilve, p. 1182; and Malformations 
 de la vulve, p. 1178. 
 
 Doctor Ricard, Professor, and Fellow of the Paris Faculty of medi- 
 cine, has given, in his lectures on surgical pathology, in 1896, 
 some curious cases of malformation of the genital organs. 
 
^ ^r)l)§iol0gtcal ^toUm. 285 
 
 **Zbc Cbincse, who are a vcv^ inocnious people, 
 bave MscovereD a wa^ of forming a new pivgiii* 
 it^ wbeu bp some accident tbat object bas gone 
 astray. Xlbe metbot) consists in astiinaent lotions 
 applied to tbe parts, tbe effect of wbicb so ^raws 
 tbem togetber tbat a certain amount of vigour is 
 require& in or^er to pass tbrougb, an5 if on a 
 nuptial nigbt, tbe busbanb is convinced) of baving 
 overcome tbe usual barrier. Uo mafte tbe illusion 
 more complete a leecb=bite is ma5e just insi^e tbe 
 critical part an^ tbe little woun5 is pluogeb witb 
 a minute pellet of vegetable tin&er, witb tbis result 
 tbat tbe ettort maC^e b^ tbe busbanb to overcome 
 tbe &ifficultp displaces tbe pellet ant) a sligbt flow 
 of bloob ensues. 
 
 See also Mantegazza " / Biti e le Feste Nuziali " ; he 
 states : 
 
 " Una celebre etaria parig'ma dei nostri tempi si ventava 
 di aver venduto ottantadue volte la propfia verginitd." 
 
 Many and diverse are the tricks resorted to by the 
 women of different countries to simulate a virginity lost 
 and the literature on the subject is fairly large. 
 
 See 1P»X®SS. ''DBS MB5B in Der IftaUXDilR 
 unt) D®X1kJlElR1RXafl5H)lE;' (XeiP3io, 1884, 3B.1.) 
 
 GuERARD, Sur la valeur de I'existence de la membrane 
 hymen comme signe de virginite. (Ann. d'Hyg. 1872, 2" 
 serie, t. XXXVIII, page 409). 
 
 Bergeret, Des fraiides dans V accomplissement des fondions 
 generatrices, Paris, 1873. 
 
 Taylor's Medical Jurisprudence, 3rd Edit. p. 807. 
 
286 ©ttvtou)^ V^t)pati)^ of ;jg>i^t0vl)« 
 
 The Slavonians, it appears, hold virginity in the highest 
 esteem. In South Russia the bride, '^ prima di dare al 
 marito le prove aufentiche della prop'ia verginitd deve 
 mostrarsi affatto nuda a testimonii, onde nostrare che non ha 
 nascosto qualche artifizio per simulare do che non ha. Si 
 suole anche chiamare un altro a sverginare (to deverginate) 
 la sposa nelle prima notte del matrimonio, nel caso in cui la 
 sposo non possa farlo." 
 
 Manteg. Gli Amori degli JJomini (p. 95 vol I). M^. 1892. 
 
 Some peoples, on the other hand, set no price on this 
 commodity as is shown by the communication of Jagor 
 to the Berlin Anthropological Society. In the Canary 
 Islands there used to exist, what may be termed, stupratio 
 officialis, and perhaps, I cannot do better than quote the 
 exact text. " On ne connait point d'exemple d'une cou- 
 tume aussi barbare que celle qui s'y etait etablie, d'avoir 
 des officiers publics et payes meme fort cherement, pour 
 oter la virginite aux filles, parce qu'elle etait regardee 
 comme un obstacle aux plaisirs du mari. A la verite il 
 ne reste aucune trace de cette infame pratique depuis la 
 domination des Espagnols . . . Mais aujourdhui meme un 
 Bisayos s'afflige de trouver sa femme a I'epreuve du soupcon 
 parce qu'il en conclut que n'ayant ete desiree de personne, 
 elle doit avoir quelque mauvaise qualite qui I'empechera 
 d'etre heureux avec elle." 
 
 In that curious old book " GYNAECOLOGIA HISTORIGO- 
 MEDICA HOC EST CONGRESSUS MULIEBRIS CONSI- 
 DERATIO, etc.;" [Dresden, 1630) page 413, Schurigius 
 gives a remarkable instance of a custom prevalent in 
 India, of deflowering young brides by means of an enormous 
 priapus in the temples. 
 
 Schurigius quotes from Walther Schultzens' Ost-Indi- 
 
^ m)i)^i0i0^ical qSvoC^lem* 287 
 
 anlsche Reise, (fol. Amsterd. 1676), and we cannot do better 
 than quote his words: 
 
 ''Bbren Me lEinwobner C>es1koeniaveicbs CHfl)©* 
 fl5©lR &en BMR^Hipmm als eincn 0ott, un& vicbteu 
 seln Bilbniss oetfentlicb In Ibren iP>H(5®H)]Eff5 aut 
 wobtn sicb tbe anoebenbe Bbe^Xeute vertuGCit 
 mussen. H)urcb biesen lIMRJHipm/ll> wirt> &enen 
 ^unotevn, auf eiue scbmerfslicbe Brt un5 mitaewalt, 
 unt) mit IbiUtfe t)crer acgenweartlgen Jfreunbe unb 
 Derwanbten ibre 5ungterscbatt ocnommen, woruber 
 sicb als^enn 5ei* Braiitioem cvtreuet ^as t)er scbaen&= 
 Ucbe unb verflucbte Hbgott ibr Dtese Ebre bewiesen, 
 in 6ei' IFjofEmmg, er wcrbe nun eiiicn bessern Bbe* 
 Segen erbalteu." 
 
 For further details see " UNTRODDEN FIELDS OF 
 ANTHROPOLOGY ", {Paris, 1897). 
 
 " Padlocks and Gikdles of Chastity " [Liseux, Paris 
 1892) gives some curious information in connection with 
 this subject. 
 
 Dr. Paul Mantegazza * gives the following curious 
 case which is well worth quoting because it throws, combined 
 with his remarks, a flood of light upon the subject of 
 our enquiry. 
 
 In cases of nymphomania or female aphrodisia, several 
 physicians have recommended amputation of the clitoris, 
 but I am altogether opposed to that mutilation. It is 
 very rare that a moral, hygienic, and therapeutic cure does 
 not succeed in overcoming no matter what genesic fury, 
 and one ought not, by a cruel and irreparable operation, 
 deprive a woman of an organ which procures her the 
 
 * IGIENE DELL' AMORE (Milano, 1889). 
 
288 a:uYi0u$ fBt)paif)^ of ^movt). 
 
 most lively enjoyments. A very eloquent fact convinced 
 me of this: it is the case of a woman who underwent 
 clitoridectomy at the hands of one of the most celebrated 
 Italian surgeons, Peruzzi di Lago, and in which the 
 amelioration lasted but a very short time. * 
 
 This unfortunate, virtuous, and very pious woman had 
 all her life to fight against this ungovernable lust; the 
 mere rubbing of her shift against her genital parts, and, 
 in her most ardent age, the least movement of her thighs 
 or that of a coach would provoke a venereal excitation. 
 She admitted to me that she had a pollution even during 
 the operation at the moment of the section of the clitoris, 
 and I believe it, for when I examined her, several months 
 after the operation, all upset with the dread of a re-appear- 
 ance of the nymphomania, beneath my eyes, at the sole 
 contact of my hands, whilst crying and cursing at her 
 nature, she was seized with a fearful voluptuous spasm. 
 And yet she was a virgin and assured me that she had 
 never consented to marry because she would not make 
 another victim share her misery. She further added : " I 
 know that I should have killed him!" 
 
 When Peruzzi published this observation, which we 
 subjoin in a note, he thought that she was cured, but I 
 saw her again a prey to her former malady and I encouraged 
 her to place great hope in the cessation of her menses, 
 the signs of which had already manifested themselves. 
 Since then T have lost sight of her: she was of dark 
 complexion, with a slight mustache. She was poor. 
 
 1. — The following is the history of this case published 
 by Peruzzi in the HippocraUque : 
 
 " N.M., aged 50 years, has her menses regularly. In 
 
 * IGIENE DELL' AMORE (Milano 1889). 
 
fU ^i}i}^i0i0^ical ^voUcnu 289 
 
 her youth she gave herself up to masturbation until the 
 age of 12 years, at which period reason and a moral 
 education caused her to abandon this habit. While a 
 young girl she had to withstand several assaults upon 
 her virtue, but she repelled them with energy and cour- 
 age. However her senses had been strongly excited 
 thereby, but only momentarily. Towards her 24th year, 
 these voluptuous excitations now repeated themselves, 
 often even without being provoked by the presence of 
 individuals of the opposite sex, and they persisted until 
 a spontaneous pollution (I beg to be pardoned this im- 
 proper expression) would put an end to this sexual erethism ; 
 after which she was exhausted, dejected and ashamed. 
 
 " This state continued for 26 years, becoming constantly 
 more serious and more insupportable. The most insignif- 
 icant causes provoked these fits; ordinary shocks, the 
 inevitable contacts produced by the cares of cleanliness, 
 the bed-sheets even by their pressure were the cause of 
 excitation, and at last the pollutions were several times 
 repeated during the twenty-four hours. 
 
 * Subjective symptoms. — Besides those already noted, pains 
 in the lumbar regions, in the buttocks, in the epigastrium, a 
 sensation of twitching along the inner sides of the thighs, 
 burning during frequent emission of urine, defecation difficult, 
 great prostration, dizziness, buzzing in the ears, anorexy 
 and even profound aversion to food with continual thirst. 
 
 '^Objective stpnptoms—'i^ othing in the urethra, nor in the 
 bladder, nor in the vagina, the uterus, or the rectum ; the 
 hymen intact, the clitoris developed and congested, promptly 
 erected at the least contact; the big labia are turgid and 
 purple in colour, leuccorrhoeic flux from the genitals, 
 remarkable general emaciation. 
 
 19 
 
290 i^mxon^ m)paii)^ of ^ymovt). 
 
 " I diagnosticated a nevrosis of the genital organs against 
 which the best conducted therapeutical treatments had been 
 unavailing (bromide of potassium had for a long time been 
 administered in proper doses). On reflecting that the irritation 
 started from the clitoris and was thence irradiated to the 
 adjoining parts, and bearing in mind the lessons of Lallemand 
 and of the celebrated Baker Brown, (a) I proposed as a 
 ast resource to resort to clitoridectomy. The operation was 
 accepted by the patient in perfect knowledge of its 
 nature; the physician who attended also approved of it, 
 " My colleague and friend, Doctor V. Liverani, who 
 was at Lugo on the 2nd of May, was kind enough to 
 consent to assist me in the operation, in which I decided 
 to follow the precepts of Baker Brown, unless some un- 
 foreseen circumstance should make me act differently. 
 
 '' Doctor Baker Brown recommends to seize the clitoris 
 and to freely section it with scissors and bistouri, to plug 
 the wound with graduated linen pledgets so as to prevent 
 any secondary hemorrhage, and then to leave it afterwards 
 to cicatrisation by second intention which, according to 
 him, would be obtained after about thirty days. 
 
 " I therefore endeavoured to seize the clitoris between 
 my two finger-ends, but either on account of the tume- 
 faction of that organ, or because of the movements of the 
 woman, who was continually flinching, I was forced to fix 
 it with an ordinary pair of pincers, grasping at the same 
 time the two numphce corresponding to the froenmn. I 
 then entrusted the pincers to my assistant and I cut with 
 a scissors into the stretched mucous folds close along the 
 upper edges of the instrument, with the object of uncover- 
 
 a.— On the curability of certain forms of insanity, epile2)sy, cata- 
 lepsy and hysteria in females, London, 1866. 
 
M ^i)i}^\0i0^Hal *Pf0l»(em* 291 
 
 ing the clitoris and to lay bare the whole of its under 
 surface, after which, holding it solidly with a tenaculum, 
 by means of a second cut with the scissors I proceeded 
 in the same manner from below upwards in the neigbour- 
 hood of its root to the point of the mucous membrane 
 which covered it above, and then laterally. This second 
 cut was at right angles with the first. It was necessary 
 to tie a small artery which bled profusely. On with-drawing 
 the pincers, I perceived that by a slight traction upwards I 
 could join together the edges of the wound resulting from 
 the section of the nymphce (which however remained united 
 above) to the edges of the wound caused by the section 
 of the clitoris and of its envelopes ; which I effected by means 
 of two points of suture tied on the side and of one above. — 
 The only treatment prescribed was cold fomentations. 
 
 " During the first twenty-four hours it was necessary to 
 sound the patient; on the second day there was complete 
 apyrexy and spontaneous emission of urine ; on the fourth 
 the points of suture were removed : immediate union. On 
 the twelfth day, the patient returned to her home, per- 
 fectly cured of the effects of the operation and of her 
 malady. In fact, she no longer felt any excitation, either 
 spontaneous or provoked by the manoeuvres indispensable 
 to the treatment and for the cares of cleanliness, 
 
 " I saw her about one month afterwards ; she was in 
 quite a satisfactory condition. The lumbar pains had dis- 
 appeared as also all other incommodities, the appetite 
 returned, which caused an improvement in the general 
 health. The moral condition recovered. All seems to 
 indicate a definitive cure, without it being however pos^ 
 sible to guarantee the same after so short a time. 
 
 Lugo, 15 July 1870." 
 
292 O^Mtiott^ fB\)paU)^ of ^movt). 
 
 That clever and eccentric old Frenchman, Dr. NICOLAS 
 VENETTE in his profound book entitled LA GENERA- 
 TIOx\ DE L'HOMME, ou TABLEAU DE L' AMOUR 
 CONJUGAL." (Paris, 2 vols, 1751), has the following 
 observations on the narrowness pudenda muUebri, which 
 are so curious and apposite that we give them in extenso : 
 DES DEFAUTS des PARTIES NATURELLES 
 DE LA FEMME. 
 Je suis persuade que la femme a moins de chaleur 
 que I'homme, et qu'elle est aussi sujette a beaucoup plus 
 d'infirmites que lui. La sterilite, qui en est une des plus 
 considerables, vient le plus souvent plutot de son cote 
 que de celui du mari, car entre cette infinite de parties 
 qui composent ses parties naturelles, s'il y en a une 
 qui manque ou qui soit defectueuse, la generation ne peut 
 s'accomplir, et une femme qui est ainsi imparfaite ne 
 peut esperer I'honneur d'etre appelee de ce doux nom de 
 mere. 
 
 Je n'ai pas resolu ici de parler de toutes les parties 
 qui concourent du cote de la femme a la formation de Fen- 
 fant, il me semble en avoir assez dit au chapitre precedent. 
 Mon dessein n'est presentement que de decouvrir les 
 defauts des parties naturelles de la femme qui peuvent 
 empecher la copulation, et qui peuvent etre gueries. 
 
 Je ne m'etonne pas si les Pheniciens, au rapport de 
 saint Athanase, obligeaient leurs filles, par des lois severes, 
 de souffrir, avant que d'etre mariees, que des valets les 
 deflorassent; et si les Armeniens, ainsi que Strabon le 
 rapporte, sacrifiaient les leurs dans le temple de la deesse 
 Anaitis, pour y etre d^pucelees, afin de trouver ensuite 
 des partis avantageux a leur condition; car on ne 
 saurait dire quels epuisements et quelles douleurs un 
 
% «P^I)llol0Oical ^tomm. 293 
 
 liomme souffre dans cette premiere action au moins si la 
 fille est etroite. Bien loin d'eteindre la passion d'une 
 femme, souvent on lui cause tant de chagrin et de haine, 
 que c'est pour I'ordinaire une des sources du divorce 
 des manages. II est bien plus doux de baiser une femme 
 accoutumee aux plaisirs de I'amour, que de la caresser 
 quand elle n'a point encore connu d'homme, car comme 
 nous prions ici un serrurier de faire mouvoir les ressorts 
 d'une serrure neuve qu'il nous apporte, pour eviter la 
 peine que nous prendrions le premier jour; ainsi les 
 peuples dont nous venons de parler avoient raison d'avoir 
 etabli de semblables lois. 
 
 Jeanne d'Arc, appelee la Pucelle d^ Orleans etoit du 
 nombre de ces filles etroites; et si elle eut prostitue son 
 lionneur, ou qu'elle eiit ete mariee, comme les ennemis 
 de sa vertu et de sa bravoure le publient encore aujour- 
 d'hui, jamais Guillaume de Cauda et Guillaume des Jardins, 
 docteurs en medecine, n'auroient declare, lorsqu'ils la 
 visiterent dans la prison de Rouen par Fordre du Cardinal 
 d'Angleterre et du comte de Warwick, qu'elle etoit si 
 etroite, qu'a peine auroit-elle ete capable de la compagnie 
 d'un homme. 
 
 Ce n'est pas ordinairement un grand defaut a une 
 femme d'avoir le conduit de la pudeur trop etroit, a moins 
 que cela n'aille, comme il arrive quelquefois, jusqu'a 
 s'opposer a la copulation et a la generation meme. Le 
 defaut est bien trop commun quand ce passage est trop 
 large, et il ne faut pas toujours mal juger des filles qui 
 ont naturellement le conduit de la pudeur aussi large que 
 les femmes qui ont eu plusieurs enfants. 
 
 Bien que ce defaut n'empeche pas la copulation, cepen- 
 dant on ne voit guere de femmes larges qui con9oivent 
 
294 ©ttttou)^ ©li^atp 0f ^movt). 
 
 dans leurs entrailles, parce qu'elles ne peuvent garder long- 
 temps la liqueur qu'un homme leur a communiquee avec 
 plaisir. 
 
 Le conduit de la pudeur est naturellement un peu courbe ; 
 il ne se redresse que lorsqu'il est question de se joindre 
 amoureusement: car il etoit bien juste que d'un cote la 
 Nature le roidit, puisque de I'autre elle roidissait les 
 parties genitajes de Thomme, pour favoriser les conjonctions 
 de I'un et de I'autre et pour faciliter la generation. 
 
 L'amour tout seul n'est point capable de redresser ce 
 canal quand il est endurci. L'imagination n'a point assez 
 d'empire sur cette partie pour la ramollir, et les esprits 
 s'emoussent et perdent leur vigueur quand ils agissent 
 sur sa durete. II faut des humeurs douces et benignes, 
 que la Nature y fait passer tous les raois pour adoucir 
 et redresser ces parties endurcies ; a moins de cela, elles 
 ne se rendent point capables de faire leur devoir en con- 
 tribuant a la production des hommes. 
 
 Si nous suivions, en France ce que Platon nous a laisse 
 par ecrit pour une republique bien reglee, nous ne verrions 
 point tant de desordres dans les manages, que nous en 
 observons quelquefois. On se marie en aveugle, sans 
 avoir auparavant considere si Ton est capable de generation. 
 Si, avant que de se marier, on s'examinoit tout nu, selon 
 les lois de ce philosophe, je suis assure qu'il y aurait 
 quelques mariages plus tranquilles qu'ils ne le sent, et 
 que jamais Hammeberge n'eut ete repudiee par Theodoric, 
 si ces lois eussent ete alors etablies. 
 
 A voir une jeune femme bien faite, on ne diroit pas 
 qu'elle a des defauts qui s'opposent a la copulation. 
 Quand son mari veut executer les ordres qu'il a reQus en 
 se mariant, il trouve des obstacles qui s'opposent a sa 
 
51 qj^ljj^iolooical ^tomnu 295 
 
 vigueur. L'hymen, ou les caroncules jointes fortement 
 ensemble, occupant le canal des parties naturelles de la 
 femme, s'opposent a ses efforts. II a beau pousser et se 
 mettre en feu, ces obstacles ne cedent point a la force; 
 et quand il auroit autant de vigueur que tous les ecoliers 
 du raedecin Aquapendens, jamais il ne pourroit depuceler 
 sa femme qui est presque toute fermee, Toutes les femmes 
 en cet etat et qui vivent apres quinze ou dix-huit 
 ans, ne sont pas entierement fermees; elles ont un petit 
 trou, on plusieurs ensemble, pour laisser couler les regies, 
 et pour donner quelquefois entree a la semence de I'homme. 
 Car bien que ces femmes ne soient pas capables de copu- 
 lation, elles peuvent pourtant quelquefois concevoir; et 
 c'est ainsi qu'engendra Cornelia, mere des Gracques, a 
 qui il fallut faire incision avant que d'accoucher. 
 
 L'accouchement est quelquefois accompagne d'accidents 
 si facheux, que les femmes se fendent d'une maniere eton- 
 nante, et j'en ai vu une dont les deux trous n'en faisoient 
 qu'un. Ces parties se dechirent d'une telle fagon, et la 
 nature en les repoussant y envoie tant de matiere, qu'il 
 s'y engendre plus de chair qu'auparavant: si bien qu'apres 
 cela I'ouverture en est presque toute boucliee; et quand 
 ces femmes sont un jour en etat d'etre embrassees par 
 leurs maris, elles sont fort surprises de n'etre pas ouvertes 
 comme auparavant. 
 
 For those of our readers not conversant with the 
 style of old French we append the following translation. 
 
 lP)B1RirS ®Jf M®/lftBff5. 
 
 I am convinced that woman has less heat than man, 
 and that she is subject to many more infirmities than he. 
 
296 i^nvlon^ f&i}pan)^ of ^movi). 
 
 sterility, which is one of the most considerable, proceeds 
 more often from her side than from that of the husband; 
 for if, among the infinity of elements which compose her 
 natural parts, there is one that is wanting or defective, 
 generation cannot be effected, and a woman thus imperfect 
 cannot hope for the honour of being called by the sweet 
 name of mother. 
 
 I have not resolved to speak here of all the parts 
 which contribute on the woman's side to the formation 
 of the child; it seems to me that enough has been said 
 on that subject in the last chapter. My present object 
 is merely to discover the defects in the natural parts 
 of woman which prevent copulation, and which may be cured. 
 
 I am not surprised if the Phoenicians, according to 
 Saint Athanasius, obliged their daughters, by severe laws, 
 to suffer themselves before marriage to be deflowered by 
 valets; or also that the Armenians, as Strabo relates, 
 sacrificed their daughters in the temple of the goddess 
 Anai'tis, with the object of being eased of their maiden- 
 heads, so as to be able afterwards to find advantageous 
 marriages suited to their condition; for one cannot de- 
 scribe what exhaustion and what sufferings a man has to 
 undergo in this first action, at all events if the girl is 
 narrow. Far from quenching a woman's passion, she is 
 thereby caused such grief and hatred, that it is ordinarily 
 a source of divorce. It is far sweeter to have connection 
 with a woman accustomed to the pleasures of love, than 
 to caress one who has not yet known a man : for, as we 
 ask a locksmith to ease the wards of a new lock he 
 brings us, to save us the trouble we might have the first 
 day; so the nations of whom we have been speaking had 
 good reason for establishing such laws. 
 
51C ^i)i)^\oi0(^kal ^toWm. 297 
 
 Joan of Arc, called the Maid of Orleans, belonged to 
 the category of narrow girls ; and if she had prostituted 
 her honour, or had been married, as the enemies of her 
 virtue and of her bravery publish even to-day, Guil- 
 laume de Cauda and Guillaume des Jardins, doctors of 
 medicine, who, by order of the Duke of Warwick and the 
 English cardinal, visited her in the prison at Rouen, 
 could never have declared, as they did, that she was so 
 narrow that she would hardly have been capable of having 
 commerce with a man. 
 
 It is not alway a defect for the duct of shame in a 
 woman to be too narrow, unless, as sometimes happens 
 it is too narrow for copulation or for generation. The 
 fault is more usually in the other direction when this 
 passage is too large, and girls should not always be 
 judged unfavourably because they have it as large as 
 women who have had several children. 
 
 Although this defect does not hinder copulation, yet 
 women that are large seldom conceive, because they can- 
 not long retain the liquor that a man has communicated 
 with pleasure to them. 
 
 The passage of Venus is naturally slightly curved ; it 
 straightens up only in the amorous conjunction, it being 
 quite natural that on the one hand Nature should stiffen 
 it, because on the other hand it had stiffened the genital 
 member of the man, in order to favour the conjunction of 
 the one with the other and to facilitate generation. 
 
 The passion of love alone is not capable of straightening 
 out this canal, when it has become hardened. The imagi- 
 nation has not sufficient power over that part to soften 
 it, and the spirits are blunted and lose their vigour when 
 it is a case of its hardening. For that, soft and benign 
 
298 ^uvxou^ 23l|^atp of ^motih 
 
 humours are required, which Nature sends through them 
 every month to soften and raise up again these hardened 
 parts; without that, they are no longer capable of fulfilling 
 their duty in contributing to the production of humanity. 
 
 If we followed in France the precepts which Plato has 
 left us in writing for a properly regulated republic, we 
 should witness fewer of those marriage troubles which we 
 sometimes have to observe. With us marriage is contracted 
 blindly, without first considering whether we are capable 
 of generation. If, previous to marriage, we could examine 
 each other stark naked, in accordance with the laws of 
 Plato's philosophy, or that there were persons appointed 
 specially for that duty, I am assured that there would be 
 some marriages more satisfactory than they are at present, 
 and that had these laws been then established, Hamme- 
 bergia would never have been repudiated by Theodoric. 
 
 On looking at a well-made young woman, it is impos- 
 sible to say that she has defects which oppose copulation. 
 When her husband wishes to fulfil the duties he con- 
 tracted to perform when he married, he encounters obstacles 
 which oppose his vigour.. The hymen, or the caruncles 
 strongly jointed together, occupying the canal of the 
 woman's natural parts, oppose his efforts. It is useless 
 for him to shove and to get himself on fire, these obstacles 
 do not give way to force ; and had he even as much 
 vigour as all the scholars of Doctor Aquapendens, he 
 would never be able to take his wife's maidenhead, which 
 is almost entirely closed-up. All the women that are in 
 this state and who are older than fifteen or eighteen years, 
 are not entirely closed up; there is always a little hole, 
 or several together, which permit the outflow of the menses, 
 and sometimes to allow the semen of the man to enter. 
 
^ qs^iljliological fl^vomnu 299 
 
 For although these women cannot copulate, they may, 
 notwithstanding sometimes conceive; it was thus that 
 Cornelia the mother of the Gracchi engendered, and she 
 had to be incised before being delivered. 
 
 The accouchement is sometimes accompanied by such 
 unhappy circumstances that some women rip open in an 
 astounding manner, and I have- seen one where the two 
 holes were confounded in one. These parts tear asunder 
 in such fashion, and Nature in healing them, supplies them 
 with so much matter, that there grows more flesh than 
 there was before; so that afterwards the orifice becomes 
 almost closed; and when some day these women are in a 
 condition to receive the caresses of their husbands, they 
 are quite astonished to find themselves not so open as 
 they were before. 
 
 It would have been strange indeed if this subject had 
 escaped either the notice or wit of old BRANTOME, and 
 we extract the following from LES DAMES GALAN- 
 TES, a book that Octave Uzanne called " The Breviary 
 of Love. " The courteous reader will pardon us for omit- 
 ting the English translation, for these lines rendered into 
 the tongue of Albion would make our pages turn red with 
 shame I! And recollect that Brantome cannot claim with 
 outspoken Venette the licence of a doctor. 
 
 * J'ay ouy parler d'lme dame grande, belle et de 
 qualite, a qui un de nos rois avait impose le nom 
 de " Pan de C . . . " tant 11 estoit large et grand ; 
 et non sans raison, car elle se I'est fait en son 
 vivant souvent mesurer a plusieurs merciers et arpen- 
 teurs, et que tant plus elle s'estudioit le jour de I'estres- 
 
300 (lutJtou)^ f&t)paif)^ uf ^movt). 
 
 sir, la nuict en cleuK heures on le lui eslargissoit 
 si bien, que ce qu'elle faisoit en une heure, on le 
 deffaisoit en I'autre, comme la toile de Penelope. 
 Enfin, elle en quitta tons artifices, et en fut quitte 
 pour faire election des plus gros monies qu'elle 
 pouvoit trouver. 
 
 Tel remede fut tres bon, ainsi qui j'ay ouy dire 
 d'une fort belle et honneste fille de la cour, laquelle 
 I'eut au contraire si petit et si etroit, qu'on deses- 
 peroit a jamais le forcement du pucellage ; mais par 
 avis de quelques medecins ou de sages-femmes, ou 
 de ses amys ou amyes, elle en fit tenter le gue ou 
 I'efforcement par des plus menus et petits monies, 
 puis vint aux moyens, puis aux grands, a mode des 
 talus que Ton faict, ainsi que Rabelais ordonna les 
 murailles de Paris imprenables; et puis par tels 
 essays les uns apres les autres, s'accoustuma si bien 
 a tons, que les plus grands ne luy faisoient la peur 
 que les petits aupayavant faisoient si grande. 
 
 Une grande princesse estrangere que j'ay cogneue, 
 laquelle I'avoit si petit et estroit, qu'elle aima de 
 n'en taster jamais que de se faire inciser, comme 
 les medecins le conseilloient. Grande vertu certes de 
 continence, et rare! 
 
A ROMANCE WITH THREE 
 ACTORS. 
 
Soof ill mi) face; mt) name is 3)Uo(jt4jat)c=l6ccn; 
 ^ am aUo callcb 9Jo=morc, loo'latc, iyarctucll; 
 Unto t^ine car 3 Ijolb t^c bcab=sca sfjelt 
 i^a^t np ti)^ 2i(c'0 foam»frcttcb feet between; 
 Unto tfjine ci)e§ t^e qUU w^ere ttjat U seen 
 $6(jicfj Ijab life's form anb It^orb's, but bij m\) spelt 
 3s now sljafen s^abow intolerable, 
 Df ultimate things nnuttercb t^e frail screen. 
 
 KOSETTI. 
 
THE LOVE-ROMANCE OF THREE CELEBRITIES. 
 
 (Alfred de Musset, George Sand, and 
 Doctor Pagello.) 
 
 great stir was made in the world of letters, when, 
 in the principal French Review, * there appeared 
 an article, of a not very respectful nature, which claimed 
 to give all the particulars of a romance of real life. 
 
 EUe et Lui, was the story, penned by the survivor, of 
 a love drama with three actors, the first of whom had 
 just quitted the scene. This " official report of a necropsy" 
 as it was justly called by Maxime du Camp, produced a 
 great sensation. The critics of the period had no diffi- 
 culty in recognizing in this romance an apology, the sin- 
 cerity of which was legitimately open to suspicion. In it, 
 George Sand overwhelmed her " big baby " with materna] 
 scoldings, the remonstrances of an elder sister, prescribing 
 to the invalid sick in body and mind, whose cure she had 
 undertaken, " an entire physical and moral regimen. " 
 From the moment of the publication of EUe et Lui, it 
 
 * Revue des Deux Mondes, 1859. 
 
 303 
 
304 ^tttiou)^ fBi)paii)^ of ^movt). 
 
 was easy to guess that beneath borrowed names, were 
 concealed persons of flesh and blood, and from all sides 
 efforts were made to solve the mystery : " I hear every- 
 where," said Prevost-Paradol, in the Debats; " that it is the 
 pleading of Therese against Laurent, or rather the funeral 
 oration of Laurent fulminated by Therese ; that this Laurent 
 was not a painter, but a great poet now fallen, of whom 
 it had been wittily said, before his death, that he was a 
 young man with much behind him. It was added, that 
 in this trip to Italy, and it is the plain truth, Therese 
 had in fact sacrificed both her purse and her tranquillity ; 
 that on his side Laurent lost his illusions and his health. 
 Palmer is the only one who remains in the back-ground 
 and whom the vulgar public persistently fails to rocognize. " * 
 At the time when Prevost-Paradol wrote the above lines 
 no one could guess at the real history cf " Elle et Lui" : 
 the events were too recent, and besides there was only the 
 testimony of a single witness. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 The reply of Paul de Musset, on behalf of his dead 
 brother, while voluntarily revealing certain facts, which 
 had been left in the shade in the plea composed by George 
 Sand, could not entirely rend the veil. 
 
 Tmi et Elle f was a brutal reply, and it is the gravest 
 
 * Journal des Debats, 3rd March, 1859. 
 
 t Published first in the Magasin de Librairie, in 1859. 
 
 We mention merely as a reminder the various publications which 
 appeared after the works of G. Sand and of Paul de Musset. 
 
 First of all Lui, by Louise Colet, which appeared for the first time 
 in the Messager de Paris, in 1859. It is easy to guess that Lui si 
 Alfred de Musset, She has resisted him in order to remain faithful to 
 
^litiind of a mnc^ioctin^. 305 
 
 reproach that could be addressed to him; at all events, 
 the romance which served him for excuse, gave him the 
 advantage of good faith. 
 
 Paul de Musset had a duty to fulfil, if not a right, he 
 could not be permitted to flinch from his duty. That he 
 may have exaggerated certain points, that he may have 
 wrongly interpreted the sentiments of his brother, of whom 
 he was the surest and most devoted confidant, must be 
 attributed only to an excess of affection. 
 
 Blinded by passion, neither the one nor the other uttered 
 the unreserved truth. 
 
 Was she culpable? was she implacable? It is difficult 
 to decide, after reading both works composed with equal 
 art, wherein He appears as a big spoiled child, sensitive, 
 to excess, terribly suspicious; where in She appears more 
 calm, more indifferent, "Without either virtue or temper- 
 ament" as she has so well been described. 
 
 In reality, the necessary documents are wanting to 
 enable us to form an opinion. These would be the letters 
 exchanged between the two lovers — between Lelio and 
 Fantasio. 
 
 Would it not have been perhaps risky to prolong and 
 embitter a quarrel which had already lasted too long, by 
 
 Leonce whom She loves, and who can be no other than Gustave Flaubert. 
 
 In Euv et Elles, M. de Lescure has summed up in a few brief 
 witty points the whole of this literary orgie: 
 
 '^ Elle et Lid is a calumny against a dead man; Elle et Ltd, is a 
 violent attack against a woman; Lui, mere coquettry. 
 
 * Elle et Lui attacks, out of revenge a reputation, which, pride defends 
 in Lui et Elle, and Lid compromises all parties by excess of vanity." 
 
 20 
 
306 ^uttou)^ f&t^paii)^ of m^iott). 
 
 laying bare, before the eyes of contemporaries, the foibles 
 of two geniuses But now, to day, are we not " the pos- 
 terity that judges?"* 
 
 The liaison between de Musset and George Sand, is it 
 not the great passional romance of the XlXth century, 
 as was that of Jean Jacques Rousseau with Mme. de 
 Houdetot in the last century? 
 
 The account of this liaison does it not belong to literary 
 history by the same right as the Confessions of J. J. 
 Rousseau ? 
 
 Since Rousseau, disclosed to public gaze his most secret 
 infirmities, how many are there that have dared to open 
 wide the doors of the sanctuary of their private life, 
 lacerating their flesh and soul just to make copy for the 
 printer ! 
 
 The heroes of this drama, the phases of which we will 
 unroll, are they not depicted by themselves in most of 
 their works, and their amorous adventures have they not 
 been so many pretexts for beautiful strophes or admirable 
 periods ? 
 
 The following phrase, which might indeed serve us as 
 epigraph, is it not from the pen of George Sand: 
 
 " There is always a forced personality in the books 
 which we write, for what could we put into our books, 
 if it were not the experience of our lives?"! 
 
 * Revue Bleue, 15th Oct. 1892. 
 
 t This is what M, Marcel Prevost has himself expressed in excellent 
 terms: 'Let us congratulate ourselves that, during her lifetime she 
 had met with enough real love to give passion to twenty master-pieces. 
 For none other has ever made more literature out of her own life. 
 
|?at?tlttG of a mmMocfin^. 307 
 
 For those who know the flesh and blood romances of 
 our time, which have so often tended to turn to the 
 tragical rather than to the idyllic can there be a surer 
 source of information than the actual writings of the 
 persons most intimately engaged therein? 
 
 As has been remarked, in terms as elegantly concise 
 as they were eloquent, by one of our most eminent 
 colleagues, the story which we have undertaken to relate 
 is commonplace enough, but is it not precisely for that 
 motive that " it touches to the quick every human being " 
 and that in this drama in which two lives are opposed, 
 peculiarly exceptional on account of the rare expression 
 they gave to the common sentiments of humanity, and in 
 which, far from seeking the glare of scandal, we look 
 more for an insight into ourselves? 
 
 The actors, besides, have neglected nothing to draw 
 attention to themselves, so much were they tormented 
 by the desire to divulge their affairs to the world : and 
 which is already the symptom of that special quality of 
 passion which cannot find satisfaction within itself. 
 
 True as their sentiments may be, however their sensa- 
 
 She was tlie type par excellence of the novelist: an intellectual 
 organism which receives reality, assimilates it, and by a mechanism 
 as mysterious and also almost as involuntary as that of the stomach, 
 gives it out again in the form of a romance. Latouche, who knew 
 her well, said, speaking of her : ' She is an echo which amplifies the 
 voice.' She could indeed amplify it to such an extent, that the meanest 
 reality, transmuted by her, became a poem." 
 
 Let us not forget a delightful detail, noted by M. Jules Claretie. 
 The most beautiful phrase perhaps in On ne badine pas avec Vamour 
 was borrowed literally by Alfred de Musset from a letter addressed 
 to him by George Sand. 
 
 As M. J. Lemaitre judiciously remarks, a man of letters lets nothing 
 be lost! 
 
308 ^m\0u^ ^i)paU)^ of ^mott). 
 
 tions may vibrate, they have lost the modesty of them. 
 They feel bound to tell them, to depict them and to 
 dramatize them for everybody; and each of them, in the 
 depth of his or her soul, is glad when dreadful stains 
 are disclosed in the other, for the instruction, perhaps for 
 the consolation, of those who, always hoping and always 
 deceived— have never seen their dreams realized. How 
 many have there been, unknown to us, who have perhaps 
 suffered most tragical hours without being able or even 
 willing — to ease their hearts by an artistically composed 
 confession. 
 
 Such was not the case with George Sand and Alfred de 
 Musset. They have spoken, they have shed tears, sang, 
 shouted, and called upon the whole Universe to witness 
 the state of their soul. Let us listen and judge, since 
 they request us to do so.* 
 
 But, it has been objected, writers belong to the public 
 only by their works. When we scrutinize their private 
 life we commit an act of unwholesome curiosity and show 
 envious mediocrity. " We cannot console ourselves with 
 not being on a par with their genius, when we see them 
 in the most compromising situations." 
 
 But is this not the best way for the moralist and the 
 psychologist to form an exact and complete notion of a 
 work, to make himself intimately acquainted with the sayings 
 and doings of the author? 
 
 And, besides, all these memoirs, correspondences of which 
 the private character is maintained, which it is wished to 
 
 * M. G. Clemenceau, in an article in the Journal. 
 
preserve from violatio)i, had they not been carefully ticketted, 
 and classed by their authors and destined, in their minds, 
 to a posthumous publicity? 
 
 For our conscience and relief we may say, under the 
 cover and authority of M. Jules Lemaitre, that all these 
 " ecstasies, tortures, cries and sobs of George and of Alfred, 
 and this marvellous story of three actors in a romance, 
 so absolutely " lived" that it and all the rest had been 
 wisely made into first class copy, being in fact that of 
 Jacques and of the Lettres d'un Voyageur of the Nuits and 
 of On ne badine pas avec Vamour, awaiting the Confession 
 d'un Enfant du Siecle. 
 
 This reminds us that the basis of someof the best books, 
 is but a blurred and insignificant reality. This, at all 
 events, can reassure us regarding the case of those, who 
 having experienced this adventure, have been able to draw 
 from it both prose and rhyme. And it warns us not to 
 put too indulgent faith in their complaints, and rather to 
 reserve our pity for the really unfortunate. 
 
 This preamble has seemed to us not without utility in 
 order to answer the critics who accepted the primitive 
 version * of the episode which we will now again 
 relate. 
 
 The circumstances are at present well known which are 
 connected with the first rencontre of George Sand with 
 Alfred de Musset, who had hitherto never had occasion to 
 meet together : it was at a dinner given by the Revue des 
 
 * This first version has appeared in the Eevue hebdomadaire of 1st 
 August and 24th Octoher 1896. 
 
310 ^ntlon^ mjpaif)^ of ^movt). 
 
 deux Mondes, at the restaurant of the Freres Provenceaux. * 
 The two writers were neighbours at table; the conversa- 
 tion commenced most amicably, and on leaving promises 
 were exchanged to see each other again. This was the 
 origin of their liaison. In the course of the following week 
 Alfred de Musset paid two or three visits to George 
 Sand. 
 
 Three or four months later Lelia appeared. 
 
 George Sand sent a copy of her work to Musset, accom- 
 panied by a letter, which, according to the expression of 
 Mme. Arved Barine, to whom we owe so much curious in- 
 formation, " marked a progress in the intimacy of the two 
 personages. " 
 
 We have had the opportunity of seeing the copy of Lelia 
 presented by George Sand to Alfred de Musset : Mme. Mar- 
 telet, formerly house-keeper of the poet f who now has 
 
 * M. Marieton, in his careful and ti'uthful study ( Une histoire d* amour, 
 G. Sand and A. de Musset) in which he has so skilfully made use of 
 previous publications, asserts that " this reunion is nowhere definitely 
 asserted." 
 
 M. Marieton means to say that the precise date has not been given, 
 for it is well known that it is Paul de Musset who was the first to 
 speak of it in the biography of his brother. This is for us sufficient 
 evidence of the fact itself. 
 
 t Mme. Martelet was not admitted to any great extent into the 
 confidence of Musset concerning his connexion with G. Sand. She 
 however remembers hearing the following rather amusing anecdote: 
 In the early days of the liaison between the poet and the author of 
 Lelia, Planche was an assiduous visitor at the house of G. Sand, of 
 whom he was the faithful watch-dog, or imtito (drudge). Jealous of 
 the increasing favour of Musset with the lady of the house, he 
 imagined one day a diabolical means of getting rid of him. With a 
 most hypocritical smile, he offered him some chocolate bon-bons; 
 hardly had the poet swallowed two or three of these than he felt 
 
it in her possession. The original edition was in two oc- 
 tavo volumes; on the "end-paper," is the following dedi- 
 cation, which indicates a certain degree of familiarity: 
 * To my little boy Alfred, George." 
 
 The superscription to the second volume is rather more 
 
 ceremonious ; the dedication is as follows : " To the Vis- 
 count Alfred de Musset, George Sand." 
 
 A month had not elapsed since the publication of Lelia 
 before Musset and George Sand had become the best 
 friends in the world; George Sand announced it, without 
 demanding secrecy, to Sainte-Beuve, whom she had lately 
 chosen as a sort of confessor. * 
 
 tormented with the imperative desire ... to rejoin the sonnet of 
 Oronte (a). 
 
 As the son of a chemist and druggist, Planche had access to all 
 the physic in the paternal shop, and he had offered to Musset 
 purgative bon-bons ! . . . . Whoever would have expected Planche to 
 imitate the example of the Borgias? 
 
 * Alfred de Musset had taken the same confessor. 
 
 One of our friends, M. Maurice Guibert, possesses a letter of de 
 Musset addressed to the critic of the Lundis (b) which, on this point, 
 is significant. M. Guibert, having permitted us to take a copy 
 of it, we herewith transcribe it. Although not dated, it relates in all 
 Drobability to the period of the liaison with G. Sand. As for the 
 authenticity of the autograph, there cannot be the slightest doubt: 
 the father of M. Guibert obtained the letter from M. A ug. Lacaus- 
 
 a Oronte, a personage of the Misanthrope of Moliere — the type of 
 a poet in quest of praise, author of a sonnet which he composed in 
 but a few minutes, and alluding to which, in very significative terms, 
 Moliere says: 
 
 " Franchement, il n'est ban qu'a mettre an cabinet ! " 
 
 (Frankly speaking, it is only worth sending to the closet.) 
 
 (Transl) 
 
 (6) Sainte-Beuve. 
 
312 ©tttiou^ m)paU)^ of ^mot% 
 
 The household worked very well at first.* George 
 Sand speaks most enthusiastically of her new friend. " I 
 
 sade, formerly secretary to Sainte-Beuve, to whom the latter had 
 given it. 
 
 This is the document: 
 
 "I no longer go to see you, dear friend, it is because I cannot; ah, 
 my friend, if you have ever suffered the pangs of love, pity me indeed. 
 I would rather have both legs broken. 
 
 "It is two days since I have seen her, and who knows when it 
 will be ? She shuts herself up — adieu — my head is all in a whirl ; be 
 discreet, I am ashamed of myself. 
 * Yours cordially, 
 
 A. de M. 
 
 * Wednesday morning." 
 
 We at first thought that this letter referred to George Sand, but 
 according to M. Maurice Clouard, it would rather apply to the rela- 
 tions of A. de Musset with another woman. It seems to be of the 
 same date (1828 or 29) as that of another letter which M. Clouard 
 possesses, and which is only dated : Monday. '' I have passed the 
 evening," says Musset, " with the most beautiful woman I have seen 
 in my life. She is a kept woman, and very well kept ..." These two 
 letters are addressed to Sainte Beuve, 19 rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs. 
 But, in 1833, Sainte-Beuve had already been residing for two or three 
 years. Boulevard Montparnasse, No. 1 ter, near to Victor Hugo. 
 
 * The poet had come to lodge with his friend, on the Quai Mala- 
 quais. He could not help meeting there the faithful acolytes 
 of George Sand, her two house-dogs, Boucoiran and Gustave Planche. 
 
 It was at this time that Planche fought a duel with Capo de Feuil- 
 lide, who had conscientiously * pitched into " the author of Lelia in 
 two articles published in the Europe litteraire. 
 
 It was a source of general astonishment that Planche should have 
 appointed himself the hravo of Mme Sand, and the minor Press did 
 not fail to make malicious allusions. From that to insinuate that 
 Planche was one of G. Sand's lovers, there was but a step, which was 
 soon taken. 
 
 We extract from an unpublished letter of Bixio, then a medical 
 
g^Uvtlno of a mm-mctUiQ. 313 
 
 find in him," she writes to Sainte-Beuve, * "a candour, 
 a loyalty, a tenderness which intoxicate me. It is the 
 love of a youth and the friendship of a comrade ... I 
 am very happy, very happy . . . Every day I am more 
 attached to him ; every day I see disappear from him some 
 slight blemishes which gave me pain." f 
 
 It might have been predicted that this association, in 
 which youth and talent were combined, would be for ever 
 indissoluble : it seemed that the two lovers could have 
 nothing better to do than to peacefully enjoy their hap- 
 piness and revel in" its intoxication. But fate decided 
 otherwise. 
 
 In reality, never were two more uncongenial beings 
 
 student, and afterwards Minister; addressed to '^Monsieur Bocage, 
 artiste (Jramatique' , the following passage which relates to the above 
 incident: 
 
 * You know that the affair between Planche and Dumas has been 
 settled, as it was easy to foresee. Planche has declared in writing 
 that he was not the lover of Mme. Sand (which I consider to be a 
 cowardly falsehood for they live together), upon which Dumas said 
 that he was wrong to have expressed himself as he had done ..." 
 
 This seems to have been mere malicious scandal, for G. Sand 
 explained the matter to the director of her conscience (Sainte Beuve) 
 in terms of the utmost frankness : 
 
 " Planche is reputed to have been my lover : this matters but little 
 to me. He is not. It now matters very much to me that it be known 
 that he is not my lover, at the same time that it is quite indifferent 
 to me that people may have supposed him to have been so. You 
 understand that I could not live in the intimacy of two men who 
 would pass for having with me relations of the same nature; that 
 would ill suit either of us three." (Letter of 25th August 1833.) 
 
 * The first letter of G. Sand to Sainte-Beuve is dated 5th June, 1833. 
 t Letter of 25th August previously quoted. She had just quitted 
 
 Prosper M^rimee, whom she had known for a week. 
 
3U Oiuvtouj^ 25l)<)atp of ^^movi). 
 
 coupled together. "These two convicts of Cupid rivetted 
 to the same chain had nothing in common, neither in 
 habits of work, nor in tendencies of mind, nor in disposi- 
 tions or sentiments; the senses alone had been able to 
 bring them together." Another thing separated them: the 
 difference of age which existed between the two : 
 George Sand was not less than thirty years old, and 
 Musset numbered barely twenty-three when the journey 
 to Italy was proposed. * 
 
 * 
 * 
 
 History does not tell us which of the two lovers first 
 conceived the idea of this trip. 
 
 Doubtless it was the woman who inspired the idea, and 
 Alfred had but to allow himself to be led. The biographer 
 of de Musset, his brother Paul, relates that it was only 
 through the persistance of George Sand that, in a moment 
 of emotion, the mother of Alfred was brought to consent 
 to his departure, f 
 
 On the 22nd of December, 1833, the two lovers, after 
 a brief halt at Lyons, went down the Rhone to Avignon. 
 On the steamer they met Stendhal (Henri Beyle); who 
 was on his way to take possession of his post as consul 
 at Civita-Vecchia. 
 
 After remaining a few days at Genoa, where George 
 Sand had an attack of fever, the two lovers proceeded 
 
 * We pass rapidly over this period of the amorous existence of the 
 young couple, — their real honeymoon, — because it is to be found related 
 in detail both in Lui et Ellc and Elle et Lui. 
 
 t Concerning their departure, see P. de Musset, Biographie d' Alfred 
 de Musset, p. 121 ; and P. de Musset, Lui et Elle. 
 
g'lltting of a mne-Mocm^. 315 
 
 to Leghorn, from thence to Pisa, and finally to Florence. * 
 
 From Florence they merely passed through Bologna 
 and Ferrara, and arrived in Venice on the 19th of Jan- 
 uary, 1834. On the very day of their arrival George 
 Sand was obliged to take to her bed ; she had been ailing 
 ever since she left Genoa, and she was now for a fort- 
 night stricken by fever. 
 
 On the 28th of January she wrote to her friend Bou- 
 coiran that " she was as well plujsically as morally. " 
 
 This respite was but of short duration. 
 
 A week later George Sand was much tormented, during 
 five days, by dysentery, and informed her correspondent 
 that her companion was also ill. " We have nothing to 
 boast of either of us, for we have in Paris a crowd of 
 enemies who would take delight in saying: they went to 
 Italy for pleasure, and they caught the cholera! What 
 a pleasure for us ! They are sick ! " f 
 
 It was near the middle of February § that Musset had 
 a severe attack of brain fever. An Italian doctor residing 
 in the neighbourhood was called in. This practitioner sum- 
 moned at noon had not arrived at four o'clock. 
 
 * It was in reading the Florentine chronicles that Alfred de Musset 
 conceived the idea of writing a dramatic piece, the title of which he 
 had not fixed in his mind; this was the origin of Lorenzaccio (P. de 
 Musset, Biographie d' Alfred de Musset, p. 128). 
 
 t Arvede Barine, Alfred de Musset (Hachette 1893). 
 
 § Mr. Plauchut is in possession of copies of several unpublished 
 letters addressed by George Sand to Buloz, in the month of February 
 1834, during the crisis, at a moment when de Musset was at death's 
 door. We will make some extracts which will show, better than 
 
316 ^uvtou)^ S$l)^atp of ^movt). 
 
 The church-bells were ringing the Angelas when at last 
 the illustrissimo doctore Bebizzo * (Berizzo) was pompously 
 
 lengthy commentaries, what were the anxieties of the unfortunate 
 woman at this moment: 
 
 "4th February. 
 
 It is now nearly five days ago since we both fell ill almost together, 
 I, of a dysentery which made me suffer horribly, and of which I am 
 not quite recovered but which has still left me sufficient strength to 
 attend upon him, he, of an inflammatory nervous fever which has 
 made rapid progress, to such a degree that to-day he is very bad and 
 the doctor says that he does not know what to think. I am in de- 
 spair, overcome with fatigue; in the meantime what is before us? 
 . . . Our entire fortune at present is but 60 francs . . . Alfred is in a 
 fearful state of delirium and agitation. I cannot leave him for a 
 moment. It has taken me nine hours to write this letter. Pity me I 
 Above all, tell no one that Alfred is ill ; if his mother should come 
 to know it (and it only requires two persons to divulge a secret to 
 all Paris) she would go mad. 
 
 What have I done to God?" 
 
 ''24th February 1834. 
 
 " Alfred is saved. I shall write to his mother. He still talks wildly 
 now and then. For the last eight nights I have not undressed; I 
 sleep on a sofa, and every hour I must be on foot. Nevertheless, 1 
 have found time to state that I am no longer anxious about his life, 
 and to write a few pages . . . You know that to me a debt smarts 
 like a wound. I now pass many sad days here, close to this bed, 
 where the least movement, the slightest noise is to me a source of 
 perpetual anxiety. I spend 20 francs a day in all sorts of drugs. As 
 soon as he gets well he will want to leave, for he has now a horror 
 of Venice and imagines that he shall die here if he remains. I shall 
 take Alfred back to Paris, and then go myself to Berry, there to work 
 like the devil." 
 
 * Louise Colet {Vltalie dea Italiens, t. I. p. 248) declares that the 
 name of the old doctor summoned to attend upon de Musset was 
 Santinis; and that she had this information from the landlord of the 
 hotel Danielli. 
 
Sltttino of a mmmcfin^, 317 
 
 introduced. He was an old man of eighty years of age, 
 wearing a wig, which had once been black but was red- 
 dened by long usage, and seemed the emblem of the 
 decrepitude of the person who wore it. * 
 
 After examining the patient, a blood-letting was decided 
 upon, but the poor devil of a doctor, who could not see 
 clearly, had the utmost difficulty in finding out the vein, 
 and finally declared that, not being certain of pricking the 
 proper place, he would prefer to abstain. He promised 
 to send a young fellow who would be able to draw as 
 many pallets of blood as the French signor might desire. 
 
 The same evening, the young doctor announced, named 
 Pietro Pagello, presented himself at the hotel Danielli, 
 where Alfred de Musset and George Sand were staying. 
 
 It was not the first time that Dr. Pagello was in the 
 presence of George Sand ; f he had already had occasion, 
 a few days previously, to give her his professional advice ; 
 Dr. Pagello has himself related the circumstances. 
 
 "It was in February 1834," writes Dr. Pagello, "that 
 I became acquainted with George Sand, and in the fol- 
 lowing manner. A servant from the hotel Danielli, situated 
 on the Riva degli Schiavoni (in Venice), called upon me to 
 visit a French lady who was unwell. I went at once and 
 
 Mr. Barbiera, in his articles in the Illustrazione Italiana, which 
 appeared in November 1896, articles evidently inspired by the Pagel- 
 lo family, confirms what is said by Mme. Colet. 
 
 * Ltd et File, p. 181. 
 
 t Pagello is said to have remarked G. Sand while passing below 
 the windows of the Albergo Danielli the day before he was called in 
 to see the stranger lady. 
 
318 ^ntiou^ Slj^dtp of ^m0t\). 
 
 found the lady in bed, with a red bandanna round her 
 head. Near the bed was a tall, thin and fair young man 
 who said to me : ' This lady is suffering from a severe 
 sick headache from which a bleeding might relieve her.' 
 
 " I examined her pulse which was hard and tense. 
 
 " I bled her and went away. I saw her again the 
 next day. 
 
 " She was better, received me amiably and told me that 
 she felt quite well. 
 
 "About a fortnight afterwards the same hotel-servant 
 brought me a note in bad Italian signed: George Sand. 
 From what I could make out it appeared that the French 
 gentleman, whom I had seen in her room, was very ill, 
 that he had a continual delirium, and she requested me 
 to come at once ..." 
 
 Pagello hastened to obey this summons and at once 
 prescribed an energetic remedy for his patient *. 
 
 For more than a week Pagello scarcely quitted the bed- 
 side of his new patient. 
 
 * It was not until 1881, nearly half a century after the event, that 
 Pagello for the first time consented to break the silence which ho 
 had kept until then. An Italian journal, the Illnstrazione Italiana, of 
 1st of May 1881, received his confidences. 
 
 Pagello prescribed compresses of iced water and t^e following 
 calming potion: 
 
 Aq. ceras. nigr. f ij. 
 
 Laud, liquid. Sydn., gutt. xx. 
 Aq. dist. laur. ceras. gutt. xv. 
 
 Dr. Pagello. 
 I Wo copy from the original, preserved by Musset); in other terms: 
 Black cherry water 8 X. 
 
 Sydenham's laudanum 20 drops. 
 
 Distilled cherry-bay water lit drops. 
 
g^mting of a mmMocttn^. 319 
 
 The text is now known of the note or rather the letter 
 in which George Sand requested Dr. Pagello to come and 
 see Musset. We here reproduce it : * 
 
 "My dear Mr. Paiello (Pagello). "I beg of you to 
 come as soon as you can with a good physician to con- 
 sult with him about the sick French gentleman at the 
 Hotel Royal. 
 
 " But I must tell you beforehand that I fear more for 
 his reason than for his life. Since he has fallen ill, he 
 has become very weak in his head and often reasons like 
 a child. He is nevertheless a man of energetic character 
 and of powerful imagination. He is a poet greatly admired 
 in France. But the over-excitement of mental labour, 
 wine, pleasure, women and play have greatly fatigued 
 him and have excited his nerves. For the least motive, 
 he becomes as agitated as he might be by an affair of 
 importance. 
 
 " Once, about three months ago, after a great anxiety, 
 he was as it were mad for an entire night. He seemed 
 to see phantoms around him, and cried out with fear and 
 horror. At present he is always uneasy, and this morn- 
 ing he hardly knows what he is saying or doing. He 
 sheds tears and complains of an ailment without a name 
 or a cause, asks to return to his country (and) says that 
 he is like to die or to go mad. 
 
 * The French translation of this letter, of which important extracts 
 appeared in the Gazette anecdotique of 1886 (t. I, p. 272), has been 
 published by Viscount Spoelberch de Lovenjoul, in a most carefully 
 written study, which appeared in the international the Cosmopolis 
 (May — June 1896). It was so closely connected with our subject 
 that we could not omit introducing it into this article. 
 
320 ^mion^ mjpaif)^ of ^movi). 
 
 " I do not know whether it is the result of the fever 
 or of over excitement of the nerves, or an indication of 
 madness. I think that a bleeding might procure him 
 relief. 
 
 ** I must beg of you to make all these observations to 
 the physician, and not to allow yourself to be discouraged 
 at the indocile disposition of the patient. This person is 
 the one I love best in the world, and I am in great an- 
 guish of mind to see him in this state. 
 
 " I trust that you will have for us all the friendship 
 which two strangers may hope for. 
 
 " Excuse the miserable Italian that I write. 
 
 " George Sand. " 
 
 Up to this time the personality of Pagello had remained 
 in the shade and many readers may have been inclined 
 to consider this hero of a real romance only a hero of 
 fiction. 
 
 We shall now relate the numerous steps, fortunately 
 crowned with success, which we were obliged to take in 
 order to bring into full day-light his nebulous individuality. 
 
 During his last visit to Paris, the Viscount de Loven- 
 joul, during a call with which he was good enough to 
 favour us, spoke to us at some length of his design to 
 publish the true history of Elle et Lui that he had just 
 terminated. 
 
 In the course of this conversation, allusion was natu- 
 rally made to Dr. Pagello who, in this romance of three 
 actors, played a part which at first sight seemed enig- 
 matical. 
 
" So, " said we to our interlocutor, " you have been 
 unable to obtain any information concerning this person- 
 age, his origin, and manner of life ? " 
 
 " All that I know of him is this, " answered M. de 
 Lovenjoul, " that he is still alive, that he resides in Bel- 
 luno, that he is very aged, and that he refuses absolutely 
 to say anything." * 
 
 A few hours after this conversation, we wrote to a 
 friend, whose kindness we have often put to the test, the 
 Baron Albert Lombroso, well known for some interesting 
 publications on the Napoleonic bibliography, begging of 
 him to help us in finding out Pagello. 
 
 It was nearly a month before the reply came. We 
 were indeed beginning to despair when the important 
 document reached us, so curious from many points of 
 view, which we are fortunate to be first to publish. Pro- 
 fessor Vittorio Fontana, of Belluno, doctor of letters, per- 
 sonally intimate with the son of Dr. Pagello, was kind 
 enough to undertake to make the desired enquiries on the 
 spot, and it is the result of his efforts which he had the 
 amiability to have forwarded to us by M. Lombroso. 
 Needless to say how deeply grateful we are towards 
 MM. Lombroso and Fontana. 
 
 As Professor Fontana writes in most correct French, 
 we have left his text unchanged. We have only modified 
 
 * Mr. Barbiera, in his article in the Illustrazione Italiana of 15th 
 Nov. 1896, declares that after a conversation with M. de Lovenjoul 
 the Revue hehdomadaire decided to institute enquiries at Belluno as 
 to the existence of Dr. Pagello. This is altogether erroneous: the 
 enquiry was spontaneously undertaken by ourselves, as was also later 
 on our journey to Italy, Avithout being charged in any way with a 
 mission by the above review. We write in the Revue hehdomadaire, 
 but we do not belong to its editorial staff: this makes a diiference. 
 
 21 
 
322 (^m'toxt^ f&i)paU)^ of ^motih 
 
 one expression which miglit have appeared . . riski/ , . to 
 our unprepared readers. 
 
 The following is Doctor Fontana's communication : 
 
 " Scarcely had I received your letter of the 14th, than I hastened 
 to make the enquiries with which j-ou had charged me. 
 
 " Several inhabitants of Belluno had supplied me with some slight 
 information, but uncertain, I therefore resolved to call upon the 
 Pagello family, and the following is the official informatian which I 
 obtained from the Dr. Giusto Pagello, first physician to the civil 
 hospital. 
 
 " Pietro Pagello was born at Castel-francoVeneto, in 1807. * 
 He went through his surgical studies at the University of Pavia. 
 Having come to Venice, he was there appointed assistant physician 
 to Professor Rima and afterwards first physician to the hospital of 
 that city, f 
 
 " Towards 1832 or 1834 (but not later) he was summoned urgently 
 to the bed-side of Alfred de Musset, who was lying ill at the Hoiel 
 DanieUi. An old doctor, who had been called in, was about to bleed 
 the patient when he was stopped by George Sand, because she saw 
 his hand tremble. The old physician then promised to send a younger 
 doctor and it was Pietro Pagello, who thenceforward did not quit his 
 patient. One night, George Sand, after having written three pages of 
 much inspired poetical prose (M. Pagello preserves them, and they 
 are unpublished), took an unaddressed cover into which she inserted 
 the poetical . . . declaration and handed the letter to Dr. Pagello. The 
 
 * In a letter, addressed to an Italian journal, the lUustrazlone po- 
 pulare, giornale per le fainigle, the 2.5th March 1896, we find the 
 following information furnished by Pietro Pagello himself: "Pietro 
 Pagello, son of Domenico Pagello and of Mrae. Maria Casalini, legally 
 married, born on the 15th June 1807, was baptized in the church of 
 Santa Maria de Pavia at Castelfranco, Venetian territory." 
 
 t He first studied at Treviso, followed the medical and surgical 
 lecture at the Faculty of medicine of Padua, afterwards going to Pavia 
 where in surgery he was a pupil of the renowned Professor Scarpa. 
 
 In 1828 he settled in Venice, where he became an assistant- 
 surgeon at the hospital of that city, in the clinical service of Dr. 
 Rinia. 
 
^Uttin^ of a mtU'Moctinq. 328 
 
 latter seeing no address on it, did not or pretended not to understand, 
 and asked G. Sand to whom he was to give it. George Sand then 
 snatched the letter from his hands and wrote the address on it: "to 
 stupid Pagello." From that night there commenced between the two 
 a very intimate . . . relation. Pietro Pagello and G. Sand afterwards 
 quitted Venice together, visited the lakes of Garda and of Lombardy, 
 and finally came to Paris, where young Pagello remained during seven 
 or eight months. Having then ceased all connexion with G. Sand 
 and being short of money, and being recalled by his family as also 
 by his professional duties, he returned to Venice. From there he 
 went to Belluno in 1837 and never quitted that town, where he was 
 head-physician to the civil hospital; which post, when he retired a 
 few years ago, he left to his son. Doctor Guisto Pagello, who occupies 
 it at the present time. It was at Belluno that Pietro Pagello married. * 
 He had several sons; and now, notwithstanding his eighty -nine 
 years, he preserves all the lucidity and serenity of his mind and 
 enjoys excellent health. But one can obtain nothing from him verbally 
 concerning George Sand : he has written a memoir on the subject 
 which is in charge of his eldest daughter, and with regard to the 
 rest remains silent. In his earlier years he had much talent: he 
 used to amuse himself making verses, j and it is known that he 
 
 * In 1838, Dr. Pagello married his first wife Margherita Piazza, who 
 died in 1842; by her he had two children: Giorgio, who died in 1878, 
 and Ada Pagello, now the widow Antonini, who resides alternately at 
 Mogliani and in Venice. In 1849 he married his second wife Mar- 
 gherita Zuliani, who at present notwithstanding her 78 years, enjoys 
 excellent health; by her he had three sons all living: Roberto, Maria 
 and Giusto, the surgeon. The latter has but one child, a little daughter. 
 One of the brothers is married, but has no children. 
 
 t Pagello was a poet, and a most distinguished one. What is most 
 remarkable in his case is that none of his verses, which are worthy 
 of universal admiration, have ever been printed. 
 
 It would be difficult to give a complete idea of the poetical works 
 of Pagello, thrown to the winds here and there and transformed into 
 legends and popular songs. An incident which occurred in 1887, has 
 enabled us nevertheless to recover some fragments. Molmenti vio- 
 lently reproached the Venetians with busying themselves only with 
 singing love ditties, while Bonaparte was occupying Venice; in 
 
324 ^mion^ ^ijpaU)^ df ^movt). 
 
 indited a Venetian canzonetta in honour of G. Sand, which was long 
 sung in Venice where it is still remembered. * 
 
 Ti xe bela ti ze zovene, 
 Ti xe fresca come un fior: 
 Vien per tute le so lacrame, etc. 
 
 Some poems by Pagello on marriages and other occasions have been 
 printed. It is known that he furnished the matter for a novel by 
 G. Sand, and assisted her, it would appear, in her Souvenirs of a 
 
 support of his opinion, he cited the barcarole which we give below. But 
 Pagello loudly claimed the paternity of these verses, adding that he 
 had written them in 1834, for George Sand. 
 
 Si in couchigilia i Greci Venere 
 Se sognava un altro di 
 Forse visto i aveva in gondola 
 Una bela come ti. 
 
 Ti x^ bela, ti xe zovene 
 
 Ti xe fresca come un fior : 
 Vien per tuti le so lacrime 
 Ridi adesso e fa I'amor. 
 
 [If the Greeks imagined Venus in a shell, it was perhaps because 
 they had seen in a gondola a woman as lovely as thee. — Thou 
 art beautiful, thou art young, thou art fresh as a flower: the time 
 for tears comes to us all . . . but for the present smile on me and 
 make love.] 
 
 We know, on the other hand, that among the unpublished papers 
 of George Sand are other pieces of poetry by Pagello, written ex- 
 pressly in honour of her by the poet. There can be no doubt that 
 beside the revelations just made known on the relations between the 
 Venetian poet and the French woman of genius, some of the unknown 
 verses of Pagello will manage to be rescued, for the glory of Venetian 
 letters. 
 
 * In 1883, the Intermediaire des Chcrcheurs et des Carieux, published 
 a Serenata, composed by Dr. Pagello in 1834, in honour of George 
 Sand. 
 
^Utiim <>? (^ ^ImMoctin^. 325 
 
 traveller; he also aided her in some translations she made in Italy at 
 a time when she was short of cash. I saw some other souvenirs with 
 the Pagellos of these erotic times. 1 particularly remarked a portrait 
 of the young doctor, looking very handsome, painted by Bevilacqua, * 
 precisely at the time when Pietro was most intimate with G. Sand. 
 A very successful photographic reproduction of this portrait has been 
 made for the family, who would make no difficulty in sending it if asked 
 to do so. Pietro Pagello lives now tranquilly in the bosom of his 
 family " 
 
 Wishing to obtain some additional information concerning 
 Dr. Pagello, we then addressed ourselves directly to his 
 son, Dr. Giusto Pagello, now chief-physician of the civil 
 hospital at Belluno. f From his reply we extract what 
 particularly concerns our subject. 
 
 " My father is in excellent health, and this month (the letter is 
 
 dated from 9th of June last) he enters his eighty-ninth year. 
 
 " Documents and letters are kept in reserve, and I trust that you 
 will be good enough to admit the reasons, as delicate as they are 
 natural, which forbid my father to satisfy public curiosity therewith. 
 I will however endeavour to obtain for you and send you a copy of 
 the letter (a splendid poetical effusion) in which George Sand declared 
 her love for my father, one night, at the hotel Danielli in Venice, 
 but this will be difficult " 
 
 At our pressing entreaties Dr. Giusto Pagello, who had 
 succeeded, not without difficulty in overcoming the resistance 
 
 * Our colleague Marcel Baudouin, has communicated to us the text 
 of the thesis sustained for the degree of M.D. by Dr. Pagello .Tun 
 in 1888. 
 
 The title of it is: La medicazione al deiitochlorure di mercuri negli 
 ospitali poveri; (a) 10 p. in 8vo., Padua, L. Ponada. 
 
 t It has gone the round of the French and foreign press. 
 
 («) Treatment by deutochlorido of mercury in hospitals for the poor. 
 
 'Trans.) 
 
326 ^tttl0tt§ ©l)»>atp of ^ij^tOtl)* 
 
 of his father, sent us nevertheless, on the 22nd August, 
 the promised declaration. 
 
 " I firmly believe, " he wrote on this occasion, " that the 
 document has never been published. The original is at 
 Belluno, in an album belonging to an aunt to whom my 
 father gave it half a century ago, with absolute prohibi- 
 tion (.sic) to allow it to be copied and still less published. 
 But I send and confide it to you, as a testimony of the 
 sympathy with which, as a man of letters and physician, 
 you have inspired me, without forbidding you to publish 
 it, should you think fit sooner or later not to withhold it 
 from the literature of your country. Perhaps this docu- 
 ment will be the only one ever published connected with 
 my father's adventure ; perhaps is it the only one worthy 
 of being brought to light." 
 
 It is therefore, as can be seen, with the full consent of 
 the Pagello family that we give publicity to this admir- 
 able page which will no doubt be read and read over again. * 
 
 * M. Barbiera believes that he has reason to think that the title 
 En Morce " would seem to express a love born in countries inflamed 
 by the sun, a fiery, a furious love. And besides," he adds, " the name 
 of Morea was on the tip of all tongues at that moment. It was barely 
 six years since the expedition to the Morea had taken place, under 
 the command of General Maison. The remembrance of it was still 
 fresh." 
 
 For an original explanation, this is a very original one indeed ! 
 
 M. Barbiera also asserts that the document, which I was the first 
 to make known by publishing it in France, had already appeared, 
 translated into Italian, in a journal destined for young people (!) which 
 was published in Venice. But he has been unable to specify either 
 title or date . . . Strange, strange ! ! 
 
 A man of letters, M. Felix Franck, after seeing our article in the 
 Revue hehdomadaire, has sent us the fallowing remarks; 
 
 " It seems diflicult to admit that George Sand could have written 
 
^iitiim <>f ^ f&incMoctin^. 327 
 
 If we undertook the journey to Belluna, in the first days 
 of September, it was principally to compare the manuscript 
 copy which had been forwarded to us with the letter itself. 
 The letter, the original of which was placed before our 
 eyes, bore this enigmatical title: En Morh. Is it not 
 probable that George Sand had intended to put : En Aniore, 
 and that in her haste (she wrote this long letter within 
 an hour), and also on account of her imperfect knowledge 
 of Italian, she may have wrongly written the expression, 
 which in her mind, was intended to serve as title to her 
 declaration? But this a mere supposition and on that 
 point we are reduced to conjecture. * 
 
 Above the autograph, we read the following lines in a 
 different handwriting from that of the autograph itself: 
 
 Venezio, 10 Juglio 1834. Pietro Pagello ad Antonietta 
 Segato dona questo manuscritto di Giorgio Sand. 
 
 " Pietro Pagello has given this manuscript of George 
 Sand to Antonietta Segato. 
 
 such a hybrid motto; En (French preposition) and Aniore (Italian 
 substantive). She could not be ignorant that the French en is rendered 
 in Italian by in. But it appears to me very simple and logical to 
 read here the old french word: Enamorec (enamoured) as it was 
 employed by Jean de Meung, the author of the Roman de la Rose 
 and other poets of ancient times." 
 
 This explanation has not succeeded in convincing us; it appears 
 to us rather far-fetched. 
 
 * The original manuscript is cut at this point, as we were able to 
 verify de visu; but it had not the appearance of being purposely 
 mutilated. 
 
828 ^mton^ ^\)paif)^ of ^li^toti)* 
 
 Here is this master-piece well worthy to appear in future 
 anthologies : 
 
 " En Moree. 
 
 "Born under different skies, we have neither the same 
 thoughts nor the same language ; have we at least similar 
 hearts ? 
 
 " The cool and hazy climate whence I come has left 
 with me soft and melancholy impressions : the generous 
 sun that has bronzed thy brow, what passions has it given 
 thee? I know how to love and to suffer, and thou, how 
 dost thou love ? 
 
 " The ardour of thy gaze, the strong embrace of thy 
 arms, the vehemence of thy desire tempt and frighten me. 
 I know neither how to oppose thy passion nor how to 
 share it. We do not love thus in my country; near to 
 thee I am as a pale statue ; I gaze upon thee with astonish- 
 ment, with desire, with trembling. 
 
 " 1 know not whether thou lovest me really. I shall 
 never know. Thou canst barely pronounce a few words in 
 my tongue, and I know not enough of thine to put such 
 subtle questions to thee. Perhaps it would still be im- 
 possible for me to make myself understood, did I indeed 
 know to perfection the tongue thou speakest. 
 
 " The places where our lives have been passed, the 
 men who have instructed us, are doubtless the cause 
 that we have ideas, sentiments and wants, inexplicable 
 one to the other. My feeble nature and thy fiery temper- 
 ament must breed very diverse thoughts. Thou must 
 ignore or despise the thousand little miseries which assail 
 
me. Thou must laugh at that which makes me cry. 
 
 " Perhaps thou knowest not what tears are. 
 
 "Wilt thou be to me a support or a master? Wili'st 
 thou console me for evils I have suffered before I met 
 thee? Wilt thou know why I am sad? Dost thou know 
 compassion, patience, friendship ? Perhaps hast thou been 
 brought up in the conviction that women have no soul. 
 Dost thou know that they have one? Art thou neither 
 Christian, nor Mussulman, nor civilized, nor a savage; 
 art thou a man ? What is there in that manly breast, 
 that lion eye, that brow superb? Is there in thee a 
 thought noble and pure ? When thou sleepest, dost dream 
 thou flyest towards heaven? When men do thee harm, 
 dost thou hope in God? 
 
 " Shall I be thy companion or thy slave ? Dost thou 
 desire or dost thou love me? When thy passion shall 
 have been sated, wilt thou know how to thank me? 
 When I shall render thee happy, wilt thou know how 
 to tell it me? 
 
 " Dost thou know who I am, and does it trouble thee 
 not to know? Am I to thee else than the unknown 
 which causes thee to seek and to reflect, or am I in thy 
 eyes but a woman like to those that fatten in harems? 
 Thy eye, in which I think I see shining a flash divine, 
 does it express but a desire that such women can appease ? 
 Dost thou know that it is the desire of the soul which 
 time can never satisfy, which no human caress can assuage 
 nor fatigue? When thy mistress falls to sleep in thy 
 arms, dost thou remain awake to contemplate her, to 
 pray to God, and to shed tears? 
 
 " Do the pleasures of love leave thee panting and stupefied, 
 or do they plunge thee into divine ecstasy? Does thy 
 
330 (SttviottS fBt)paif)^ of ^motti. 
 
 soul survive thy body, when thou quittest the bosom of 
 thy love! 
 
 ''Oh! when I shall see thee calm, shall I know if 
 thou art thinking or reposing? When thy glance shall 
 become languishing, will it be from tenderness or from 
 lassitude ? 
 
 " Perhaps dost thou think that thou knowest me not * 
 . . . , that I know thee not. I know neither thy past life, 
 nor thy character, nor what men who know thee think 
 of thee. Perhaps art thou the first, perhaps the last among 
 them. I love thee without knowing whether thou mayest 
 be worthy of my esteem, I love thee because thou pleasest 
 me ; perhaps I may soon be forced to hate thee. 
 
 " If thou wert a man of my country, I should question 
 thee and thou wouldst understand me. But I should be 
 still more unhappy for thou wouldst be untrue to me. 
 
 " Thou at least wilt not deceive me, thou wilt not make 
 to me vain promises and false vows. Thou wouldst love 
 me as thou knowest how and canst love. That which I 
 have sought in vain in others, I shall perhaps not find it 
 in thee, but I shall always believe that thou possessest it. 
 
 "The glances and caresses of love which have always 
 lied to me, thou wilt let me interpret them as I choose 
 without any deceptive words, I shall be able to interpret 
 thy reverie and make thy silence speak eloquently. I shall 
 attribute to thy actions the intention I shall wish to find 
 in thee. When thou wilt look tenderly at me, I will then 
 believe that thy soul is communicating with mine; when 
 
 • The incident is related in detail in Lui et Elle; in the article by 
 Mr. Clouard on Alfred de Musset and G. Sand, published in the 
 Beviie de Paris (p. 717 and following); and, more completely in the 
 work by Mr. Mari^ton. 
 
??at?tittd of a mtwrncfim. 331 
 
 thou lookest at the sky, I shall believe that thy intelli- 
 gence is rising again towards the home from which it 
 emanates. 
 
 " Let us therefore remain as we are, learn not my 
 tongue, I will not seek in thy words wherewith to tell 
 thee my doubts and my fears. I wish to ignore what are 
 the acts of thy life or what part thou art playing among 
 men. I would wish not to know thy name. Hide from 
 me thy soul that I may always believe it to be beautiful." 
 
 This inspired hymn had been improvised in less than 
 an hour, in the presence of the doctor himself, while at 
 their side reposed, in lethargic sleep, the poet, agitated 
 by the convulsions of fever. 
 
 We should liked to have evoked the memory of Doctor 
 Pagello concerning this incident,* with which he was so 
 intimately connected, but we did not then foresee, before 
 going to Belluno, t the difficulties which there awaited 
 us : we could not guess that not only Doctor Pagello could not 
 speak French, but that he was absolutely deaf. § 
 
 * As some have expressed some doubts about our journey to 
 Belluno, we will state specifically that immediately on arriving we 
 put up at the Grand Hotel dcs Alpes, on Friday, 4th September 
 1896, at a quarter past three in the afternoon. 
 
 t Pagello resided with his brother Robert (a handsome type of an 
 extravagant fellow) in a modest house at San Fantino, near the 
 " Corta Minelli, " not far from the theatre of " La Fenice," then 
 famous throughout Europe for its original performances of Italian 
 music {Illustrazlone Itallana, 1896, No. 48). 
 
 § The absolute deafness, with which he is aflflicted for upwards of 
 45 years, has not soured his character, as so often happens to 
 others. He himself jokes about it: having been busied for some time 
 
By good luck, his son Dr. Giusto Pagello, the head- 
 physician of the civil hospital of Belluno, was kind enough to 
 serve us as interpreter, seconded by his wife, Mme. Giusto 
 Pagello, who, in these circumstances, was most kind and 
 amiable. 
 
 It was at once agreed that we should draw up a list 
 of questions to be transmitted by Dr. Pagello, the son, to 
 his father in an Italian translation. The old man was to 
 answer them in his own language, and these replies were 
 again to be given to me in French by Dr. Giusto Pagello. 
 
 It is useless to add; that we had previously had the 
 assurance, that our visit would be received with pleasure 
 by our venerable colleague. 
 
 After waiting a few moments in a tastefully furnished 
 drawing-room, Doctor Giusto Pagello came to inform us 
 that his father " expected " us. Our knowledge of the 
 Latin language, however imperfect, and rather forgotten, 
 enabled us to understand this expression, which at first 
 had somewhat surprised us. 
 
 After mounting two or three steps, we found ourselves 
 on a landing, and, after passing through a small room, 
 entered the studio of the aged doctor. 
 
 He was quite at the further end of the room, reclining 
 in a comfortable old arm-chair, which had no pretence to 
 elegance, from which he rose at our approach. Very tall, 
 but bent by years, Doctor Pietro Pagello has preserved a 
 
 past with pisciculture, he wrote to Mr. Barbiera ' that he had chosen 
 for friends the mute denizens of the waters ; as that did not oblige 
 hira to remember his infirmity." (V. Illustrazioue Italiana, 1896, No. 46. 
 
freshness in contradiction with his age. But it is not 
 easy to evoke beneath this senile mask, the brilliant cava- 
 lier of romantic times. 
 
 Doctor Pietro Pagello received us with most exquisite 
 courtesy, and seemed to be flattered at being thus sought 
 after. As we were expressing our thanks, M. Pagello, 
 Jun., reminded us that his father was quite deaf, and that 
 it would be preferable, as it had been arranged, to converse 
 only in writing. We accept this method of interviewing, 
 the novelty of which was far from displeasing us, and 
 seated at a table, we commenced our questions. 
 
 Dr. Giusto Pagello translated as we proceeded the an- 
 swers given by his father to our questions, which we will 
 synthetize, without modifying their bearing. 
 
 "My memory," said the venerable octogenarian, "may 
 perhaps serve me badly; all that is so long ago. You 
 will be good enough to excuse its weaknesses . . . 
 
 " It was said that I had recommended the return to 
 France of Alfred de Musset, in order to remain alone 
 with la Sand, (Dr. Pagello never designates George Sand 
 otherwise, but we hasten to say that in his mouth the 
 expression has no injurious meaning). This is an absolute 
 error. It was Alfred de Musset himself who insisted, 
 contrary to my advice, supported by the entreaties of 
 George Sand, to set out for France, still incompletely 
 recovered and hardly convalescent from a malady to 
 which he had nearly succumbed. This malady was extreme- 
 ly serious ; and you will judge so when I inform you 
 that it was a tijpho'idette, complicated with alcoholic delir- 
 
884 ^ut^toui^ m)paii}^ of ^movt)^ 
 
 ium. In my opinion, Alfred de Musset was not epileptic, 
 as some persons have insinifTited ; the crises which assailed 
 him were those of acute alcoholism ; he drank deeply, 
 and his nervous system b^ing much overworked, the abuse 
 of spirituous liquors sufficed to upset him altogether . . . 
 
 "What was the usual life of la Sand and I, after the 
 departure of Musset, is what I will endeavour to relate. 
 We almost immediately quitted the hotel Danielli to take 
 an apartment at San Fantino, in the centre of Venice, 
 which we made our home. My brother Robert, who died 
 six years ago in 1890, lived under the same roof. * He, 
 
 * Pagello frequented the Cafe Florian, the rendez-vous of the elegant 
 world of Venice, and the apothecary's shop of Ancillo who was re- 
 puted to he the greatest scandal-monger in Venetia. 
 
 M. Clemenceau has related, in a very curious article published in 
 the Journal (1896), that ho formerly visited, accompanied by a friend 
 of G. Sand, " Ancillo's pharmacy, on the Cunipo San Lucia, where 
 Pagello and his companion had established their headquarters, and 
 the house in the Corfe Minelli where, between two cries of despair 
 of Jacques (a) the novelist would run to the kitchen and prepare 
 those wonderful sauces which her Italian lover so relished." 
 
 " I remember," he writes, " a large and very airy apartment part 
 of the Minelli palace, with a vast kitchen, the fire-place of which in 
 itself was as big as a room. 
 
 " Ancillo, the father of the present- druggist who is himself an 
 octogenarian, was a hon-vivant of the time of the first Republic. His 
 shop, opposite the Auherge des trois Roses, was the most reputed in 
 Venice. He was a frequenter of the latest meetings of the Cafe 
 Florian, where the literary traditions of the Eighteenth century were 
 carefully preserved. The old gentleman would sit in the day-time 
 ensconced in his mahogany shop, where are still reposing at the back 
 of arched embrasures, the great dusty glass bottles, that have never 
 been opened, I imagine, since the time when George Sand used to 
 drop in to write some letter or chat over the events of the day. In 
 
 (a) The novel she was then writing {Tr.). 
 
g^Uvtittd of a mm-mcflxx^. 335 
 
 who was not susceptible of being carried away by the 
 transports of passion, could not understand how I could 
 have fallen in love with la Sand, who, at that moment, 
 had become very thin, and who in his opinion was not 
 very seductive. As soon as my father got to hear of my 
 liaison, he forbade my brother to remain any longer with 
 us. And yet our life was far from being passed only in 
 pleasure. George Sand worked, and worked a great deal. 
 The only recreation she allowed herself was the cigarette ; 
 and even while smoking she continued to write. She 
 always smoked Turkish tobacco and liked to roll her own 
 cigarettes and mine. Perhaps was it for her a source of 
 inspiration, for she would stop her, work to follow with 
 her eyes the spirals of the smoke, plunged in reverie. 
 
 " It was during our stay in Venice that she wrote on 
 this card-table now before me, her Lettre^ (Tun voijageur, 
 and also her novel entitled Jacques. On this occasion I 
 may have given her some slight assistance, but my col- 
 laboration was but of little importance: I gave her some 
 information relative to the history of Venice, on the manners 
 of the country, and I often accompanied her to reading- 
 rooms and to the Marciana Library. 
 
 " She knew our language well, but not sufficiently to 
 
 the evening he was once more the jovial companion and merry talker. 
 Sometimes he would perhaps, by his droll tales and genuine gaiety, 
 help the disappointed ninante of the poet to wait until her handsome 
 Italian, after the style of Leopold Robert, (a) gratified her with what 
 she had not been able to find in other-; as she used to say herself." 
 
 In 1834, G. Sand used to have her Paris letters addressed: A 
 Monsieur Pagello, Pharmacie Ancillo, Piazza Sanlucca, ])our remettre 
 a Madame Sand. 
 
 a A talented French painter, celebrated for his representations of 
 Italian scenes and types {Transl.). 
 
836 ©ttHoug m)^am <>f ^x^i^vi). 
 
 write in Italian magazines. She had enough to do to pre- 
 pare "copy" for the Revue des Deux Mo7ides, for she never 
 failed to send her manuscript regularly to Mr. Buloz. 
 
 * She used to work from six to eight consecutive hours, 
 preferably in the evening ; her work was mostly prolonged 
 far into the night ; she always wrote without stopping and 
 without making any erasures. 
 
 " The dominant points of the character of George Sand 
 were patience and gentleness, an inalterable gentleness : 
 she was seldom vexed and seemed always contented with 
 her lot ... . 
 
 " When we did not dine out, she used herself to pre- 
 pare the meals. She was besides a most talented cook, 
 and excelled in preparing sauces ; she was very fond of 
 fish, and it was a dish thd,t often figured on our table. 
 It may be added that she digested all kinds of food very 
 well, never being ill, except a slight dyspepsia of little im- 
 portance ; I never had to prescribe her any physic .... 
 
 " I must not omit to mention a particuliar talent of 
 George Sand ; she could use her pencil most admirably ; 
 her caricatures were extremely droll ; with two strokes of 
 her pencil she could give you the exact portrait of a per- 
 son; whom she had only once seen. My eldest daughter 
 has preserved some of these drawings which she can show 
 to you .... 
 
 " George Sand drank a great deal of tea in order to 
 stimulate her to work. 
 
 The old doctor, then stooping to a glass cupboard, against 
 which his arm-chair was placed, took from it a cup of a 
 wide, open shape, and a saucer, of unusual depth. The cup 
 
g^littlng of a mncMocfim. 337 
 
 presented this peculiarity that it resembled pure tin, 
 whereas the touch shows that the matter composing it 
 was a varnished pottery, one of those earthenwares with 
 stanniferous reflections, which we were afterwards informed 
 are specially manufactured in the neighbourhood of Venice. 
 
 After having examined it attentively, we handed it back 
 to M. Pagello, who begged us to keep it in remembrance 
 of our interview. 
 
 "Of the entire service," said the old gentleman, who 
 evidently wished to show us the value he attached to his 
 present, "there remain only four cups;" we thanked him, 
 at the same time begging him to enhance the value of his 
 present "by a few lines to serve as a certificate of origin. 
 
 With a rather trembling hand, doctor Pagello wrote the 
 following lines : 
 
 " AW Egregio Dr. Cabanis, 
 
 " In memoria delta visita die mi faceste, a Belluno, vi 
 offro questa tazza, nella quale molte volte la Sand ha forbito 
 it die quando abitava con me a Venezia. 
 " Belluno, 4 7bre, 1896. 
 
 " Pietro Pagello." 
 
 Which is easily translated as follows : 
 
 " In remembrance of the visit you have made to me 
 here at Belluno, I offer you this cup, in which many a 
 time la Sand drank tea, when she lived with me in Venice. 
 
 " Pietro Pagello." 
 
 But to return to the narrative of Dr. Pagello : 
 
 "On leaving Venice," continued the venerable Doctor, 
 
 " George Sand and I went to Verona, from there to Lake 
 
 Garda, to Milan, and thence to Geneva. 
 
 22 
 
338 <i:ttviou)^ ^i)paif)^ of ^movf). 
 
 " We remained but a short time in these different places, 
 and came to Paris in the early days of August. 
 
 " We separated from the moment of our arrival. I 
 would not, under any pretext accept the hospitality that 
 was offered to me. 
 
 " I did not much frequent the literary world during my 
 short sojourn in the French capital. Among men of let- 
 ters, I remember to have seen Gustavo Planche, and 
 Buloz. You are surprised that I should not have met 
 with other writers? But it was the time of vacation, 
 and they were nearly all away in the country. 
 
 " With regard to Musset, I visited him several times ; 
 I always met with a most courteous reception from him, 
 but without the least cordiality ; but he was not of a very 
 warm-hearted disposition. I continued some relations with 
 one Frenchman only, a friend of Musset, M. Alfred Tattet, * 
 a very strange person if there ever was one, a great 
 amateur of Cyprus wine, of which he used every year to 
 have a small barrel sent to him from Italy : a hon-vivant 
 as you say in France. We exchanged a pretty good 
 number of letters, but I should be puzzled to say in 
 what corner they ma}^ be to-day ; I don't know even 
 whether I have preserved them. 
 
 " In Paris I resided in the rue des Petits Augustins, 
 at the Hotel d'Orleans. My m.ornings were passed in the 
 hospitals, where I followed the clinical courses of Lisfranc, 
 Amussat, and Broussais, who at that time was extra- 
 ordinarily in vogue . . . 
 
 * We may obtain some definite information as to the ties of friend 
 ship which existed between Pagello and M. Tattet, by reading a 
 letter from G. Sand to the friend of Alfred de Musset; reproduced by 
 M. Maurice Clouard in the Revue de Paris, loc. cit. pp. 721 — 724. 
 
fjattlttg of a mm-^toctln^. 339 
 
 " I hardly ever saw Mme. Sand ; she caused me to be 
 invited by M. Boucoiran, the tutor of her children, to 
 pass a few days at Nohant. I refused the invitation and 
 preferred to return to Italy ... * 
 
 " Since my return to my country I have never received 
 the slightest news of la Sand. I knew of her literary 
 successes by the newspapers, and that was all ... 
 
 * Pagello lodged in Paris in a little room on a fourth floor, and 
 used to take his meals at a tahle-d'hote kept by a certain Venetian 
 of the name of Bunharda, who had kept an hotel in Paris for the 
 last thirty-three years . . . 
 
 He used sometimes to go to the Jardin des Plantes to satisfy his 
 hunger with a penny loaf and some fruit, after following the clinical 
 lectures of Velpeau and other illustrious physicians and surgeons of 
 Paris, to whom G. Sand had recommended him in order to get rid 
 of him politely. Who can imagine what dark days the poor Venetian 
 surgeon must have undergone in this cosmopolitan lumber-room, so 
 foreign to him, ignorant of the language, of the people, without 
 money, and under the bitter humiliation of being abandoned by the 
 woman he had loved. On the 18th of August, disheartened, he wrote 
 to his father: " I seem like a strange bird thrown into the storm; " 
 and again: "If any one has every reason to cast himself into the 
 Seine, it is I ! " 
 
 But the hour for bidding farewell to the loved one had come. The 
 adieux were mute. " I pressed her hand, without daring to raise my 
 eyes to hers. She appeared to be embarrassed. I kissed her children 
 and went." 
 
 Pagello returned to Italy. Thanks to a learned Venetian gentleman, 
 Mr. Paolo Zannini, he modestly entered the hospital of Belluno as 
 surgeon and was there sufficiently esteemed. He married Margherita 
 Piazza, who went out of her mind, and by whom he had a daughter, 
 Ada, still living, and a son, who went into business, and died at the 
 age of 36 years. His wife having died, he married a second time a 
 Belluno lady, another Margherita ... by whom he had three sons, 
 of whom one is the surgeon Giusto Pagello {Ilhistrazione Italiana, 
 loc. cit.). 
 
340 (^mxon^ mjpatf}^ of ^movi). 
 
 " It was quite by chance that I heard of her death, 
 but I was not directly informed of it . . ." 
 
 * * 
 
 "I was quite a young man/ said in his turn, Doctor 
 Pagello, Jun., " when the newspapers announced the death 
 of Mme. Sand. I remember that my father received the 
 news with the utmost indifference. He spoke to us of the 
 family about this woman as if he had scarcely known 
 her : half a century had elapsed without a letter, without 
 a greeting. It was the news of the death oiabohemiemu 
 (sic), that our father related to us of the family . . . The 
 past was long since dead, long indeed before the death 
 of George Sand! 
 
 " But let us leave this subject of conversation . . . Will 
 you allow me to show you some objects of curiosity which 
 we possess , . . Before quitting this room, I must show 
 you an object which has a character, which I may call 
 historical. It is a cup in Sevres china, which has a rather 
 curious origin which I will tell you. 
 
 " The Prince of Rohan was camping with the Austrians 
 on an estate belonging to my grandfather, two miles from 
 Castelfranco, when Massena came up with his troops. 
 
 "The Austrians had but just time to retreat, without 
 carrying away their camp equipage. The next day, a 
 peasant in the employ of my grandfather brought him 
 this cup, which he had found in the tent of the Prince, 
 and which still contained the rest of the chocolate he was 
 drinking when he was surprised by the arrival of the 
 troops of Massena. 
 
 ** These paintings that you see are also of some value: 
 
^IhiiM of <i fBlxH-mcnn^. 341 
 
 here is a picture by Tempesta, two aquarelles by Bisson, 
 a head by Schidone and a series of 24 drawings by Callot. 
 " As we are on this subject, I shall feel obliged if you 
 will assist me to destroy a false legend : in one of the 
 letters of G. Sand to Alfred de Musset, * published in the 
 Revue de Paris, the novelist pretends that she had sub- 
 mitted to the appreciation of an expert the paintings 
 which my father had brought with him to France ; that 
 according to the expert these paintings were of no value, 
 but she had nevertheless offered my father two thousand 
 francs for them, " adding that it was a manner of con- 
 
 * Pagello, in a conversation with Mr. Barbiera, asserts that at the 
 time when the event occurred, " he was not handsome, but healthy 
 and robust ", and that it was the chase which had developed his vigour. 
 He added, " when I was in Paris I expected to be challenged to fight 
 some duels. Inexpert in fencing, but skilful with the gun as a hunter, 
 I practised with the pistol and soon became very expert, but had no 
 occasion to use my skill." 
 
 Mr. R. Paulucci di Calboli writes in the Revue des Revues (1896, 
 p. 572): Dr. Pagello was quite a young man to whom might have 
 been well applied the verse of Dante in which he describes Conradin : 
 " Biotide era e hello e di gentile aspetto.' (a) His features and 
 manners denoted his descent from an ancient Venetian family ennobled 
 by Pope Paul II. He had a fine and delicate wit, a woman's heart, 
 and the intelligence of an artist. His conversation was charming, 
 always gay and bright, he was very elegant in appearance, and the 
 favourite of the Venetian salons and the spoiled child of the ladies. 
 Although very young, he had a good reputation as surgeon, having 
 published some pamphlets which gave evidence of the serious nature 
 of his experiments and observations. Is it then astonishing that 
 George Sand should have found him worthy of her love? He was 
 neither used up by pleasure, nor disabused by experience. Pagello 
 was as generous and romantic as she was herself; he had the true 
 soul of a poet! 
 
 (a) Fair he was and handsome, and of pleasing aspect. (Transl.) 
 
342 (i;ttviou^ m)paif)^ of ^mott). 
 
 cealing a pecuniary assistance." My father protested as 
 soon as this came to his knowledge, and we shall not 
 cease to protest every time it is repeated. I was in- 
 formed by my late uncle that these paintings though not 
 exactly Raphaels were far from being ordinary. They 
 were signed by a master, the painter Ortesiti. Besides, 
 my father much frequented the artistic world, where his 
 taste had been developed, and he was reputed to be a 
 connoisseur. Under such circumstances you may be sure 
 that he had been careful not to take along with him mere 
 daubs of which he could not have disposed. 
 
 " He came back ruined, his practice was gone, he had 
 to begin life over again, these were indeed misfortunes 
 enough ! " 
 
 " Be persuaded," continued Mr. Giusto Pagello, " that the 
 connection of my father with George Sand was but an 
 episode in his life and nothing more. George Sand, tired 
 of the strange vicious habits of Alfred de Musset, had 
 abandoned herself unreservedly to my father, who was 
 young, with broad shoulders, a really handsome, brave 
 and right good fellow, who as far as I know, was by no 
 means at his first love. * My father loved the pretty 
 stranger for her genius, for her goodness, and, without 
 
 * At the moment that he became acquainted with George Sand, 
 Pagello was beloved " by a woman lovelj' as are the madonnas of 
 Paul Veronese, with a splendid figure and wavy golden hair. She 
 bore the romantic name of Arpalice." George Sand was of an aesthetic 
 type forming the most complete contrast to that of Arpalice. 
 
 " Her short raven hair, her large eyes swimming beneath dark 
 lashes, hor wide opened sensual lips, her little hands and feet, her 
 decided gestures, and above all the halo of her European fame, sub- 
 jugated Pagello." {Illusirazione Italiana, 1896. No. 47.) 
 
placing her among the stars, he was much enamoured of 
 her. But all that was soon forgotten. Once returned to 
 Italy, my father resumed his professional occupations. He 
 soon got his practice again around him. His skill, parti- 
 cularly as a surgeon was already long established : as a 
 former pupil of the celebrated Scarpa and of Rima the 
 surgeon, former chief-surgeon of Napoleon's great army, 
 he had been in a good school. 
 
 " My father was the first to introduce lithotrity into 
 Italy, as he had seen it performed by Lisfranc, and per- 
 ineal cystotomy; he acquired also a genuine reputation as 
 accoucheur. * 
 
 " It is not more than eight years ago that my father gave 
 up practice. Until then he used to attend to his service 
 at the Belluno hospital with the most scrupulous regularity. 
 He has never ceased to interest himself in the progress 
 of science, and in the rare hours of leisure that this practice 
 left him, he occupied himself with geology, palaeontology, 
 conchology and pisciculture. But he has always had a 
 marked predilection for literature. Even now he takes 
 care to know all that is being published and passes several 
 hours every day reading reviews, newspapers and new 
 books. And, notwithstanding his ninety years, he reads 
 without spectacles ! 
 
 " He writes less than formerly, although he still commits 
 his reflexions and thoughts to paper. Formerly he com- 
 posed a memoir, a sort of act of contrition of the deep 
 repentance of a good felloiv (sic.), who deplores the sins of 
 his youth. But neither the events, nor the persons 
 therein alluded to are in any way specified. 
 
 * The Histoire de la Chirurgie et de V Obstet?-ique by Corradi enu- 
 merates his professional merits. {Ulustrazione Italiana, loc. cit.) 
 
344 a:utiouj^ ^i)paif)^ of ^moti). 
 
 " We also preserve a manuscript- work by my father, 
 containing numerous poems, moral tales, travelling remini- 
 scences, social sketches, domestic economy, etc. This work 
 is dedicated to his Sons and nephews; not a fragment of 
 it is to be published during his lifetime. 
 
 " I was one day glancing through the pages of this 
 voluminous manuscript, when a paper dropped from it to 
 the ground which I hastened to pick up. It was a por- 
 trait of George Sand, admirably done. I have never been 
 able to find it again, notwithstanding the searches I have 
 made . . . ." 
 
 The name of George Sand having turned up again in 
 the conversation, we profited by it to ask a question which 
 our lips had long been burning to put: does there exist 
 a correspondence of George Sand with Pietro Pagello? 
 Does this correspondence consist of many letters ? When 
 and by whom are they to be published? 
 
 "It is certain," answered Dr. Giusto Pagello, "that a 
 good many letters were exchanged between my father and 
 Mme. Sand, but my father has always assured us that he 
 had burned them all except three, which are indeed the most 
 interesting. It is an Italian man of letters, a friend of 
 my father, Mr. Antonio Canianiga, and not Mr, Zanardelli, 
 as has been asserted, who is charged with the posthumous 
 publication, for nnj father insists that they are not to be 
 published during his lifetime. We are quite determined to 
 respect his wishes in this matter. 
 
 " Besides these three letters, there is the declaration of 
 love addressed by George Sand to my father, at the hotel 
 Danielli, and which I have communicated to you." 
 
g^livting of a 23lne-§tocfino» '^45 
 
 At the present time the letters of George Sand to 
 Alfred de Musset have been made public; those of Alfred 
 to George have appeared almost entirely ; * Dr. Pagello 
 alone has hitherto resisted all solicitations. 
 
 After having been the least unhappy of the three, he 
 has remained, in spite of all that may have been said, 
 the most discreet. 
 
 When the moment shall have come to bring before the 
 tribunal of posterity the passionate pleadings of the lovers 
 of Venice^ we hope that he will receive some credit for 
 the reserve and decorum he has always shown. 
 
 * M. de Lovenjoul has published in Cosmopolis, a great many of 
 the letters of G. Sand to Sainte-Beuve; the Revue de Paris has also 
 given a good number. 
 
 Mme. Lardin de Musset has communicated several of her brother's 
 letters to Mr. Maurice Clouard [Revue de Paris), and also to M. 
 Marieton who published them in his recent work. Lastly we have 
 had the letters of G. Sand to A. de Musset, the publication of which 
 had been confided to the care of M. Aucante (Revue de Paris, 1896) ; 
 the letter of George Sand to Abbe Rochet {NoiiveUc Revue 1896) and 
 we are not sure of not having omitted some others! 
 
 It is nevertheless rather amusing that Mme. Clesinger wanted to 
 oppose the publication of her mother's letters, and particularly those 
 addressed to Pagello, whereas another member of the family, Mme. 
 Lina Sand, had, a few years ago, begged of an Italian writer to use 
 his influence to induce Dr. Pagello to consent to give up to publicity 
 the correspondence which he possessed. (Vide Illustrazione Italiana, 
 1896, No. 48.) 
 
 It is not with less surprise, that one reads the astounding interview 
 with Mme. Clesinger, in which that lady asserted, as seriously as 
 possible, that if her mother had several lovers, it was because she 
 had a horror of solitude!! 
 
INDEX 
 
 TO THE Names of Persons 
 
 Places, and Subjects 
 
 mentioned. 
 
II y k present une inquisition severe sur les livres; 
 mais un ministre, en defendant un livre, I'accredite. 
 Le vrai secret serait de le faire refuter par nn auteur 
 sage et homme de Men. 
 
 Un livre defendu est un feu sur lequel on vent marcher 
 et qui jette au nez des etincelles. 
 
INDEX 
 
 The references marked "F" refer to the article on "Flagellation in France", 
 which is given away gratuitously with the present volume. 
 
 A. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Abbe Ai-mez (The) 21 
 
 Abbot (Monastery of Peapolis of) 
 
 to Coi-nelius Agrippn. , . . . 274 
 
 Abelard and Heloise. F 57 
 
 Abelard, ourious letter to Heloise, 
 
 on "Stripes given for love". F. 88 
 Abrtcotier (Apricot-tree) or VAhri 
 
 Ootier, i.e. Cotier's retreat. . . 5 
 
 Academy (Oct. 16, 1897) IX 
 
 Acliazius (P.) of Diiren, Capuciii 
 
 monk, flogs female penitents 
 
 and abuses of them. F. ... 58 
 Achazius (The monk), scandalous 
 
 revelations in Court. F. ... 58 
 Ackerbom (.Johannes), the flogging 
 
 Jesuit. F 57 
 
 Adam, the first husband beaten. F. 119 
 Adorers (The devoted) of Mm. 
 
 Recamier 279 
 
 PAOE 
 
 Adrian I (Pope), A.D. 772, en- 
 deavours to forbid religious 
 whipping. F 65 
 
 Adulation (Posthumous) .... 18 
 
 Advertisements (Curious, in Lon- 
 don daily Papers). F 14 
 
 d'Albignac (General), director of 
 the School of St. Cyr 79 
 
 Alboize et A. Maquet, Histoirc 
 anecdotique des prisons. . . . 128 
 
 Allier et Dufour, VAncien Boitr- 
 honnais (Death of Mme. de 
 Moutespan) 73 
 
 Almanach Astrologique, 1849 . . 269 
 
 "VAmour fouetti,"^ poem from 
 Bernard (M.). '^Tresor du Pur- 
 nassc" Lond. 1770. F 110 
 
 Anabaptists (The) going about 
 naked in Amsterdam (1535). F. 65 
 
 Ancel (Elisabeth), first nurse to 
 
350 ^utiou^ fBt)pati)^ of ^mott). 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Louis XIV, suckled him for 
 
 three months 30 
 
 Anne of Austria, after 20 years 
 
 of sterility gives birth to Louis 
 
 XIV 29 
 
 Anthony (Saint) and St. Jerome 
 
 flogged by the Devil. F. ... 60 
 U Anthropologic, 1890. Slcull of 
 
 Charlotte Corday 190 
 
 d'Antin (Due), sou of Mme. de Mou- 
 
 tespan — Odious conduct at the 
 
 deathbed of his mother ... 73 
 "Aphrodisiaque externe ou Traiti 
 
 du Fouet," by Dr. Doppat (1788). 
 
 F 69 
 
 Appetite (Extraordinary) of Louis 
 
 XIV 37 
 
 D'Aquin, meuical histoiiograpiier 
 
 of Louis XIV, says that he all 
 
 his life suffered from his teeth. 32 
 Arabian Xights (Burton's). . . . xv 
 
 Arab Sheikh xv 
 
 Arm&z (Mr. the nephew) offers 
 
 the relic to the government. . 21 
 Arnaud the philosopher — His 
 
 heart devoured by a dog. . . 91 
 Ascendency (Strange) of Dr. Coitier 
 
 over Louis XI 8 
 
 I'Assommoir xvil 
 
 Augustus (Prince of Prussia) — His 
 
 love for Mme. Recamier . . . 278 
 Authenticity of Richelieu's head 
 
 contested 22 
 
 Authorities (Various) on amount 
 
 of correction to be permitted. F. 123 
 Autobiography of a working man. 
 
 Lond. 1818. F 7 
 
 Avrillon(Mdlle.d'),maid of honour 
 
 to Josephine 250 
 
 B. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Bailly de Fourbiu (M. Le), Relation 
 
 of his Embassy, to the Court 
 
 of Louis XIV 31 
 
 Baker-Brown (Dr.), Clitoridec- 
 
 tomy 290 
 
 Ballanche, Letter concerning 
 
 Mme. Recamier 277 
 
 Baraton, Poesies diverges (17U4). 
 
 F 74 
 
 Barbaroux tlie liiruudisi .... 152 
 Barine (Arvede), Alfred de Mussel. 315 
 Barry (Madame Du) causes the 
 
 Marchioness of Rozen to be 
 
 flagellated. F 46 
 
 Barry (Du), Life aud liines of 
 
 Madame, by Robt.B. Douglas. F. 45 
 Barthclin (Thomas) relates case 
 
 of a Venetian debauchee. F. . 91 
 Baudot (A.), Notes Historiques . 214 
 
 Baussct, M^moires 252 
 
 Bayle (Dictionnaire), 5th edition, 
 
 1734, vol. 2, p. 720 282 
 
 Beauchamp and his wife entrusted 
 
 with care of royal bastard . . 44 
 Beauterne (De), Sentiment de Xa- 
 
 poUon sur le Christianisme. . 225 
 Belanger, the architect, truest 
 
 friend of Sophie Arnould, her 
 
 faithful body-guard 113 
 
 BELZUXCE (HENRI DE) AN 
 
 ADMIRER OF CHARLOTTE 
 
 CORDAY 151 
 
 Bergeret, Fonclions gineratrices. 285 
 Biographic Michaud, ed. 1824, 
 
 art. Robespierre 213 
 
 Biographic Rabbe 214 
 
 Birch (The). F 4 
 
 Birch (The) ardently desired. F. 139 
 Bird (Rev. Geo) holds it to be 
 
 scriptural for a man to beat 
 
 his wife. F 123 
 
3tibe^. 
 
 351 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Bird (Rev. Geo) lectures on man's 
 right to correct his wife. F. . 122 
 
 Blackstone (in Commentaries) 
 says that riglit of marital casti- 
 gation began to be doubted 
 under Charles II. F 124 
 
 BLOIS (Mdlle. DE), daugh- 
 ter OF LA VALLIERE . . 43 
 
 Blois (Mdlle. de), third child of 
 La Valliere 52 
 
 Boileau (The Abbe), "Histoire des 
 Flagellans," Amsterdam, 1792. 
 F 94 
 
 Boier (K.), Bratchnomou pravou 
 Bolgar {sur les us.jurid. Bulg.). 
 F 148 
 
 Bonaparte (Prince Roland), Skull 
 of Charlotte Corday 189 
 
 Bonapartiana 227 
 
 Bonjour (The brothers) — Two 
 priests who founded the flagel- 
 lating sect of the Fareinists. 
 F 66—67 
 
 Bonnetain (Paul), "Chariot s'a- 
 muse." F 82 
 
 Bonneville (Francis), Portraits des 
 personnages celebres de la Re- 
 volution 182 
 
 Bordelon's (The Abbe) Gom- 
 gam. F 7 
 
 Boston Daily Globe (June 12th, 
 1897) VIII 
 
 Boucher (Master) is chosen by 
 Colbert to be the accoucheur 
 of La Valliere 47 
 
 Boufflers (Chevalier de) submiis 
 to be whipped, but in his turn 
 has his fair tormentor casti- 
 gated. F 49. 
 
 BougOQ-Longrais, a supposed 
 admirer of Charlotte Corday. 155 
 
 Bourrienne's Mcmoires of Napo- 
 
 PAGE 
 
 leon 224 
 
 Boursault, Mots a la mode ... 66 
 
 Boyer (The Dr.) " visits the place 
 with eye and finger." . . , .116 
 
 Brain (Richelieu's) 18 
 
 Brantome, Les Dames Galantes. 299 
 Brantome, "Les Sept Discours 
 touchants les Dames Galantes." 
 Compiled by H. Bouchut, Paris, 
 1812. F 71 
 
 Bri&re de Boismont (Dr.), Reflec- 
 tions on Napoleon 229 
 
 Brion (Mr.) lends his house for 
 the accouchement of La Valliere. 45 
 
 Brownrigg (The case of Mrs.)— 
 Murder of Mary Clifford. F. . 129 
 
 Brownrigg (Mrs.)— Apology of her 
 crime. F 129 
 
 Brownrigg (John) participates iu 
 his mother's crime. F 1.30 
 
 Brownrigg (John) flogs Mary Mit- 
 chell stark naked. F 131 
 
 Bru (Paul), Histoire de Bicetre. 127 
 
 Buchanan, tutor to James I. F. 7 
 
 Buckland (Dr.)— Legend of his 
 havinginadvertently swallowed 
 the heart of Louis XIV ... 92 
 
 Buffet (The) given to the decap- 
 itated head of Charlotte Corday 
 by an executioner's assistant . 170 
 
 " Bull and the Ass (The) ". From 
 Burton's " Thousand Nights 
 and a Night." F 152 
 
 Bull (John) gets his daughters 
 whipped. F 14 
 
 Buonarotti, Opinion about Robes- 
 pierre 209 
 
 Burgundy (Duchess of) appoints 
 Clement to be her accoucheur. 64 
 
 Burton (Sir Richard) XI V 
 
 Burton (Sir Richard), The "Thou- 
 sand Nights and a Night", 
 
352 6;tttri0tt)^ ^\)patf)^ Of ^'movt^. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 original (Benares) edition. F. 152 
 Busserolie (M. de la), on appeal 
 get his sentence commuted to 
 heavy damages. F. ... 43^44 
 Busserolie (M. de la), sentenced 
 to the galleys for smacking a 
 
 lady's posterior. F 43 
 
 Bussy-Rabutin, in la France 
 Galante, relates the birth of 
 the Duke of Maine— Piquant 
 
 details 67 
 
 Butler, in " Iludibras ", narrates 
 how a dame thrashed her 
 
 husband. F 119 
 
 Byron's Don Juan. F 7 
 
 Byron (Moore's life of) xv 
 
 Cabanes (Dr.) — His alarms . . . xix 
 Cumbaceres (Aprl-s-d^ners of). . 242 
 "Callipyges (Les)." (2 vols.). F. . 69 
 
 Cardinal's (The) finger 20 
 
 Case of Mme. Reeamier compared 
 to that of Queen Elizabeth of 
 
 England , . . 282 
 
 Casimir-Perrier in lievue des 
 
 Deux Mondes 133 
 
 Casse (Du), Hist, unecdolique de 
 
 Napoleon 231 
 
 Castle and lordship (Coitier's); his 
 
 feudal rights 7 
 
 "Causes celebres", by Gayst de 
 
 Pitaval, Amst. & Liege, 1755. F. 18 
 Caylus (Mme. de), Jonriud de Ver- 
 dun 56 
 
 Celtic Druids (Godfrey Iliggins). X 
 "Cent Nourelles Nouvelles", A 
 
 mediaeval wife-beating. F. . . 140 
 Centuria Librorum Abscondito- 
 rum. F 6 
 
 PACE 
 
 Charlotte Corday had determined 
 to kill Marat from 2d June, 1793 153 
 
 Charlotte Corday's passport to go 
 to Paris 138 
 
 Charlotte Corday— Personal ap- 
 pearance 134 
 
 Charlotte Corday and tlie Giron- 
 dists 160 
 
 Charlotte Cordas' likened to "One 
 of God's angels" by a contem- 
 porary 135 
 
 CHARLOTTE CORDAY— 
 
 WHERE BURIED 187 
 
 Chateaubriand, Minoires d' Outre 
 Tombe 280 
 
 Cheek (The dead cheek of Ciiar- 
 lotte Corday said to have 
 reddened under the headsman's 
 buflfet)— Refutation 174 
 
 Chereau (Dr.), Article on Coiiier 
 in Union lUidieale of 1861 . . 13 
 
 Chereau (Dr.), in Union Medicate, 
 1861, publishes a list of the 
 medical and surgical staff at- 
 tached to the Court of Louis 
 XIV 60 
 
 Cheval (a hosier in the rue de 
 la Harpe) 21 
 
 Chezot, the maiden name of the 
 mother of Charlotte Corday; 
 the Chezots supposed to be 
 descended from the Scottish 
 Kings 136 
 
 Children, Cruel instincts of. F. 5 
 
 " Chronique Scandaleuse (La) ", 
 Paris 1789.— Affair of the Che- 
 valier de Boufflers. F 47 
 
 Claretie (Jules), origin of " On 
 ne badine j)as av:c I'amour ". S07 
 
 Claretie (Jules), in the Temps, 
 Artemisia drinking the ashes 
 of her husband 78 
 
3ni>e^» 
 
 353 
 
 PAflE 
 
 Clemenceau (M.G.), in the Journal. 308 
 
 Clement (P.), Life of Colbert- 
 Curious details 44 
 
 Clement (Julien) dies aged 80 
 years — His sons 65 
 
 CLiiMENT (JULIEN), FIRST 
 OFFICIALLY APPOINTED 
 ACCOUCHEUR TO THE 
 COURT OF FRANCE .... 59 
 
 Clitoridectomy, cure for hysteria 290 
 
 Clopinel (.lean de Meung) the 
 poet — Amusing anecdote. F. 72 — 74 
 
 Clouard (Mr.), in Revue de Paris 
 on A. de Musset & G. Sand . 330 
 
 Coitier (Doctor) 4 
 
 Coitier's (Dr.) coat of arms, sup- 
 posed symbolical meaning, and 
 play upon words 5 
 
 Coitier's (Dr.) mansion 4 
 
 Coitier— His unscrupulousness and 
 insatiable ambition 9 
 
 Colbert and his wife render dis- 
 creet assistance to the King. . 44 
 
 .Colbert's Diary, from 14 April 
 1663 to 7 January 1665. ... 46 
 
 Colbert makes a brief mention 
 in his journal of La Valliere 
 giving birth to a boj' 49 
 
 Coleridge, Anecdote of. F. . . . 8 
 
 Coligny (Admiral), Remains of. . 86 
 
 Collet (Louise), Messager de Paris 304 
 
 Collet (Louise), Vltalie des Ita- 
 liens 316 
 
 Confinement (The last) of La Val- 
 liere fatal to lier beauty ... 56 
 
 Conjugal correction — Woman tak- 
 ing a mean advantage of 
 man. F Ill 
 
 Constant {Memo ires) — Napoleon 
 and Josephine 238 
 
 Construction of the Guillotine 
 under the di reel ions of Louis, 
 
 PAGE 
 
 the eminent surgeon 126 
 
 Consultation (Medical) on Sophie 
 
 Arnould — What she said . . . 115 
 Corlieu (V.), La mart des rois 
 
 de France 39 
 
 Cornelia Juliana (The Blessed) 
 
 gives the Devil a sound beating. 
 
 F 61 
 
 Correction leads to divorce. F, . 138 
 Correction of a jealous woman 
 
 in Paris, related by an eye- 
 witness. F. . 136 
 
 Correction of an over-gay wife. F. 140 
 " Correspondance d^Eulalie.'" 
 
 (Lond. 1785). F 69 
 
 Correspondant, 1889 215 
 
 Cosnard-Desclosets, Interesting 
 
 letter of, on Charl. Corday. 160—164 
 Cour du Commerce (The). ... 3 
 Courier (Paul Louis), Opinion 
 
 on flagellation. F 109 
 
 Court accoucheurs (Names of) 
 
 under Louis XV, Louis XVI, 
 
 Napoleon I, Louis Philijipe 
 
 and Napoleon III 61 
 
 Coutumes Thdatrales (Les) ou 
 
 Scenes secretes des Foyers, &c. 
 
 F 107 
 
 Criminal, the first beheaded by 
 
 the guillotine 128 
 
 Damian (Cardinal) defends the 
 
 practice of nudity. F 65 
 
 Danchet: " Nouveau choi.v de 
 pieces de poesies. La Haye, 
 
 1715. F 104 
 
 "Im Danseuse Russe^'' (3 vols.). F. 69 
 Dangeau, Journal de, Sept. 1715. 89 
 Darboy (The Archbishop) so- 
 
 23 
 
354 O^uHott)^ ^t)paif}^ of ^movi). 
 
 PAfiE 
 
 lemnly receives Richelieu's 
 head in the Sorbonne, in 1866, 
 and restores it to the tomb. . 22 
 
 Daudet (Alphonse), Scene in his 
 "Sapho." F 113 
 
 Davenant's Lines on Doctor Gill, 
 Master of Paul's School. F. . 7 
 
 Davray (.Jules), Curious details in 
 "L' Amour h Paris," Paris, 1890. 
 F 100 
 
 Davray (Jules),Curious revelations 
 in "L'Armee du Vice," Paris 
 1890. F 100 
 
 Death of Louis XI 12 
 
 Death of Louis XIV 39 
 
 Declaration of love from George 
 Sand to Pagello— A master- 
 piece ! 328 
 
 Defert (Nicolas and Rose), A cele- 
 brated case in France {La 
 Presse, 17 Dec. 1859). F. 129—130 
 
 ""DifiU de Fesses iVi/e«." F. . . 70 
 
 Delcourt (Pierre), "Le Vice h 
 Paris," Paris 1887. F 100 
 
 Delolrae, On the power of con- 
 fessors to whip penitents. F. . 55 
 
 Denniee, Itiniraire de la Cam- 
 pagne de 1812 258 
 
 Dentu, the publisher, possessed 
 the posterior part of a skull 
 pretended to be that of Riche- 
 lieu 22 
 
 Desecration of Richelieu's tomb 
 in 1793 20 
 
 Dcssaix (Mr.), Pamphlet on 
 strange ! human remains ... 93 
 
 "Devil (The) an amateur of Fla- 
 gellation. F 59 
 
 Dickens, Tale of Two Cities. F. 9 
 
 Dickens, Nicholas Nickleby. F. 7 
 
 Dictionnaire encyclopidique de 
 la France, art. Duplay. . . . 207 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Dinner of the "Jiei-uc des Deux 
 Mondes,^ where George Sand 
 and Alfred de Musset make 
 acquaintance 310 
 
 Dominican prior.- at Xauey sup- 
 posed to possess the skull of 
 Mme. de Sevigne 84 
 
 Doppet (Dr.), Strange scene re- 
 lated by him in his ""Traitedii 
 Fouctr F 95—90 
 
 Dotianiem (Spanish) XX 
 
 Dram Shop (I'Assommoir), by 
 Zola XVII 
 
 Dubois, dentist to the King, 
 obliged to perform a serious 
 operation 34 
 
 Duguesclin — His body solemnly 
 interred at Saint-Denis. ... 89 
 
 Dufour (Pierrette), second nurse 
 to Louis XIV suffei"s from his 
 teeth 31 
 
 Duhousset (Mr.) reads a note on 
 the model of Richelieu's face 
 before the Paris Anthropological 
 Society 23 
 
 Duhousset (Colonel) studies the 
 skull of Richelieu in the study 
 of the minister M. Duruy be- 
 fore its restoration to the tomb. 24 
 
 Dumas, Le Maitre d'Armes. . . 258 
 
 Duplay (Eleonore) sought to gaiu 
 the heart of Robespierre . . . 215 
 
 Duplay's house where Robespierre 
 lodged 203 
 
 Duplay fNIaurice) — Details con- 
 cerning him 206 
 
 Duruy (Geo) doubts autiienticity 
 of skull in possession of Prince 
 Bonaparte 195 
 
 Duruy (Mr. George), Curious his- 
 torj' of the skull of Charlotte 
 Corday 191 
 
Stt^^s* 
 
 355 
 
 Duval (George), Souvenirs de la 
 Terrenr, Paris 1840 139 
 
 B. 
 
 Efforts of the Historical Co aimittee 
 of Arts and Monuments ... 22 
 
 Elia, Essays and Recollections 
 of Christ's Hospital. F. ... 7 
 
 Elizabetii of Genton, passed into 
 bacchanalian plircnsy when 
 whipped. F 90 
 
 Elizabeth (Queen of England), 
 " Cariosites de la Lltlerature." 
 T. II, p. 502 232 
 
 VEncyclopedie, Quesnel a contri- 
 butor to 100 
 
 " Englishwoman in Russia (Tlie)" 
 relates the birching of a lady 
 of rank. F 150 
 
 Esquisses du Bocage -21 
 
 " Examen de Flora," or Flora's 
 instructions how to Hog, in "■Par- 
 nasse satyrique du XlXine 
 Siecle.'" F 105 
 
 Execution of Charlotte Cord ay — 
 Her proud demeanour .... 169 
 
 Experiments witli tlie guillotine 
 on dead bodies 126 
 
 Exposition (The Book of) . . . xiv 
 
 Expression (Curious) of Dr. Guil- 
 lotin before the legislative As- 
 semblv 125 
 
 Face of Richelieu (The) only was 
 therefore the relic possessed 
 by ^Ir. Armez 22 
 
 Fagon (Dr.), celebrated physician 
 
 PAGE 
 
 to Louis XIV, recommends 
 
 Clement to the King CO 
 
 Fain (Baron), Slanuscrit f?e 1813. 256 
 Famous women flagellants. F. . 9 
 
 Fatality or Providence 223 
 
 Fathers Adriaensen and Girard 
 
 amateurs of the birch. F. . . 56 
 Faubourg-Saint-Germaiu (The) . 3 
 Faudel Philipps (Alderman)— His 
 
 good sense xvil 
 
 Fenelon (Archbishop of Cambrai), 
 so called the "Swan of Cam- 
 brai", author of "Telemachus." 3 
 
 Fielding's Tom Jones. F 7 
 
 Flagellants (Sects of) widely 
 spread in 13th and 15th centu- 
 ries. F 89 
 
 Flagellants, a fanatical sect found- 
 ed in Italy, A.D. 1260 {Vide 
 Ogilvie's Imperial Dictionary). 
 
 F 51 
 
 Flagellation in Medicine— Cura- 
 tive powers of Urtication. F. . 84 
 Flagellation in Literature. F. . . 70 
 Flagellations (Religious). F. . , 53 
 Flagellation, A'arious kinds of. F. 8 
 
 Flagellation in France xix 
 
 Flagellations (Historical). F. , . 9 
 Flogged after the ball. F. . . . 131 
 Floggings inflicted by ecclesias- 
 tical authorities. F 138 
 
 Floggings in Russia. F , . 148—151 
 Foissac (Dr.), La Chance et la 
 
 Destinee 263 
 
 Foutana (Professor), Interesting 
 
 communication 021 
 
 Fonvielle (De), La Physique des 
 
 3Iiracles 
 
 Footman flogge J by order of Pope 
 Sixtus V for having insulted a 
 
 girl in the street. F 41 
 
 "Fouet (Ze)," Verses taken from the 
 
356 ^mtoxt^ Slj^atp of ^movt). 
 
 PAGE 
 
 "Joujou des Dames." F. . . . 109 
 
 "Fouette culs." F "i 
 
 Founiier (Ed.), Le Vieux-nevf . 124 
 Frauds (Saint) of Assisa flogged by 
 
 Satau {Vide Abbe Boileau). F. 60 
 Frederick the Great and Napoleon. 232 
 Frederick the Great — Strange 
 
 dream 230 
 
 French widow's letter. F. 114 — 115 
 French virago beatiug her hus- 
 band. Vide "Petit Parisien'' 
 
 of 30 Nov. 1897. F 119 
 
 Frerou, Note on Eobespierre, in 
 Notes Historiques of A. Baudet. 205 
 
 G. 
 
 Gazette des Hopitaux (No. 20, 
 
 1894) 25 
 
 "Gazelle des Tribunaux" Aug. 
 
 loth, 1891. Strange case. F. 100—101 
 German doctor and his Bride 
 
 (Caseof) — Surgical intervention. 284 
 Gersen (Peter), a floggiug priest. 
 
 F 57 
 
 Gille (Philippe), SUmoires d'un 
 
 consent de 1808 (Bones of Mme. 
 
 de Maintenon) 78 
 
 Gill upon Gill. F 7 
 
 Godard, Sat. Dialogue. F. . . . viil 
 Godfrey Higgius (Celtic Diiiids). X 
 Goncourt (De), Histoire de la So- 
 
 cieti franqaise pendant le Di- 
 
 rectoire , 89 
 
 Goncourt (De) the Brothers : their 
 
 journal ; M. de St. Victor and 
 
 the Englisli gentleman. F. 132—183 
 Guerard, Valeur de Vexistence de 
 
 Vhymen 285 
 
 Guillois, Ifapol^ou, V Homme, le 
 
 Politique, etc 226 
 
 Guillotin (Dr.) had a human prin- 
 ciple at heart 124 
 
 Guillotine (The)- What probably 
 suggested the idea 129 
 
 Guizot — His subtle explanation 
 of the case of Mme. Rccamier. 281 
 
 Gynaecologia h istorico-m edica 
 (Dresden, 1630), p. 413 ... . 286 
 
 Ilamel (Ernest), Historian of Ro- 
 bespierre 201 
 
 Hankey, English amateur of ero- 
 tic books. F 133 
 
 Haiier's portrait of Charlotte Cor- 
 day 139 
 
 Ilausset (Mme. du), Mimoires (The 
 King's indisposition) 102 
 
 Hausset (Mme. dn)— Her cordial 
 intercourse with Dr. Quesnay. 107 
 
 Hausset (Mme. du) — Incident of 
 the King's indisposition . . . 102 
 
 Head (Rich.), English Rogue. F. 7 
 
 "Hearts devoured", inihe Inter- 
 mddiaire des Chercheurs, 1886. 91 
 
 Henrietta of England — Her con- 
 tempt for La Valliere .... 52 
 
 Henry III of France and his 
 minions. F 72 
 
 Hippocrates, " Ubi slimulit4, ibi 
 affluxits". F .85 
 
 "Histoire d'un Pantalon". F . . 70 
 
 "History of the Rod". F. . . . 5 
 
 Bolland (Lord), Diplomatic Sou- 
 venirs 239 
 
 Honeymoon (The) of Alfred de 
 Musset and G. Sand 314 
 
 House of the Elephant (The) . . 6 
 
 Houssaye (Amelot de la). Note 
 concerning Queen Elizabeth, . 283 
 
3ut>e$. 
 
 357 
 
 Huart (Adolphe), 3Umoires sur 
 Charlotte Corday 147 
 
 Ilussun (A.), Etudes sur les 
 HopUaux 127 
 
 I. 
 
 (Im?) purity associations . . . XVII 
 
 lusanity — Quesnay undertakes to 
 recoguize the symptoms of mad- 
 ness six months beforehand, 
 and proves it 105 
 
 Illness (Last) of Louis XI, and 
 his strange fancies 11 
 
 lllustrazione Italiana, May 1881 : 
 Dr. Pagello's account 318 
 
 Index funereus, in Union Medi- 
 cale, 1861 64 
 
 L'Inquisitlon Fran9aise, ou mist, 
 de la Bastille. F 10 
 
 Insinuations, atrocious and calum- 
 nious against Charlotte Corday 180 
 
 Intemperance in food of Louis 
 XIV 36 
 
 Intermidiaire des chercheurs, etc. 324 
 
 Irailh (The Abbfe), "■ Recuecil de 
 Querelles Littdraires." F. . . . 96 
 
 Irrationally irrascible father (An) xx 
 
 J. 
 
 Jagor, Communications to Berlin 
 Anthrop. Soc 286 
 
 Jal, Dictionnaire de Biographic 
 critique 30 
 
 Jamaica Post (July 5th, 1897) . vin 
 
 Josephine— Her Creole supersti- 
 tions , 254 
 
 Josephine — Ascendency over Na- 
 poleon 239 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Josephine considered as Napo- 
 leon's "luck-bearer" by his 
 
 soldiers 253 
 
 Jourdain (Mr. de B.), Milanges 
 historiques, satiriqucs, anccdo- 
 
 tiques 63 
 
 Journal des Dibats 304 
 
 Journal de la Sante de Louis XIV. 32 
 Journal de Midecine de Paris, 
 
 No. 16 (1892) 25 
 
 Juniperus (The Friar) — His mad 
 
 pranks. F 65 
 
 "Jnpes TroussSes." F 09 
 
 Juvenal, Verses ou the lupercis. F. 92 
 
 Killiam (W.), Prophecies of Na- 
 poleon , 246 
 
 ""King's Coffee Pot'' (1773). F. . 45 
 
 Kingsley's Westward Ho ! F. . . 7 
 
 Kleist (Henry von), "Penthesilea." 
 F. . . 9 
 
 KraflFt-Ebing, Psychopathia Sexu- 
 alis. F 9 
 
 KrafFt-Ebing, in his "Psychopathia 
 Sexualis," says that whipjiing 
 may induce Libido sexualis. F. 89 
 
 Krauss, Sitte and Branch der 
 Siidslaven. F. 148 148 
 
 L. 
 
 Lackey (A) sentenced to the pil- 
 lory for insulting a ladj'. F. . 42 
 
 Lady of rank (A) flogged in Rus- 
 sia. F 150 
 
 Lafontaine — His charming tale 
 "The Spectacles." F. . . . 77—79 
 
 Lair, Louise de la Valliere et la 
 
358 e^ttrtou)^ 23l)^atp of ^t^totl). 
 
 PA UK 
 
 Jeunesse de Louis XIV ... 45 
 Lairtellier, Les Fenimes cilcbres 
 de la Rivolution. ....... 135 
 
 Lance (Ad.), Dictionnaire des Ar- 
 
 chitectes fran<;ais 119 
 
 Langue Yerte (Dict.de), A. Del- 
 
 vau, Paris, 1867. F 7 
 
 Laiincs (Nfarshal) — Ilis tragical 
 
 death ; presentimeDts 254 
 
 Lap-dog (Sophie Arnould's)— Kil- 
 led by Mesnier — Yerses ou the 
 
 subject 117 
 
 Lascivious manias hereditary. F. X 
 Laumier, Ceremonies nuptiales.F. 148 
 LauzuD, Scandalous report con- 
 cerning 55 
 
 La Yalli&re's first child is im- 
 mediately removed 50 
 
 La Yalli&re's second son born . 51 
 La Valli&re — ^Farly death of her 
 
 two first children 51 
 
 Law (The Anglo-Saxon) admitted 
 
 wife-beating. F 123 
 
 Law (The Welsh) fixes "three 
 blows with a broom-stick" as 
 a reasonable allowance. F. . . 123 
 Lebas (Mme.)— On Robespierre . 209 
 Lebas (Mme.)— Tier Parrot. . . .218 
 Lefevre (Jacques), one of the most 
 famous accoucheurs of his day, 
 formed his pupil Clement . . 63 
 Legislative assembly adopts the 
 proposal of Dr. Guillotin. . , 125 
 
 Lemaitre (Jules) 309 
 
 Lenoir (The art guardian) and the 
 howling mob in the reign of 
 
 terror 24 
 
 Lenormand (Mdlle.) — Her false- 
 hoods 246 
 
 Lenormand (Mdlle.), the fortune- . 
 
 teller and Josephine 239 
 
 Lenotre (author of Paris Rivolu- 
 
 PAGE 
 
 <<onj».aire)— Opinion about sup- 
 
 l)osed skull of Charlotte Cor- 
 
 day 196-198 
 
 Leo Taxi], " La Prostitution con- 
 
 temporaine", Paris, 1883 (V) F. 101 
 Lescure (De), Les Femmes pendant 
 
 la Becolution 206 
 
 Letters from a young married 
 
 English woman (Extracts). 
 
 F 116-117 
 
 Liancourt (Mme. de), Sanguinary 
 
 outrage by one lady on another. 
 
 (V. Causes cilebres, vol. lY, p. 
 
 348 et sequitur). F 20-35 
 
 Liancourt case — Severe sentence 
 
 of the Court. F 35—38 
 
 Liberalities (The King's) to 
 
 Coitier 9—10 
 
 Liberalities of Louis XIY to 
 
 Julien Clement, the accoucheur. 64 
 Liebrecht, Volkskundc. F. . . . 148 
 Linlithgow shoemaking boys turn 
 
 the tables on their mistresses. 
 
 F 124—125 
 
 Liseux (Isidore) XIX 
 
 Liverani (Dr.), Case of Clitori- 
 
 dcctomy at Lugo 290 
 
 Lombroso (Baron Albert) .... 321 
 Lombroso( Alberto), B/i?iog'>-op/a'e 
 
 de VEjJoque Napoldonienne . .256 
 "London Spy" (1704), Prostitutes 
 
 whipped. F 185 
 
 Lorenzaccio (Origin of) 315 
 
 Louis (Dr.), Curious letter on con- 
 struction of the guillotine . . 126 
 Louis XI afraid of his doctor, 
 
 who bullies him 9 
 
 LOUIS XIV BORN WITH TWO 
 
 TEETH 29 
 
 Louis XIV suifers from a suppu- 
 rating periostitis 33 
 
 I^uis XIV obliged in 1685 to 
 
SHbe$, 
 
 359 
 
 PAGE 
 
 have all the teeth on the left 
 upper jaw extracted 33 
 
 Louis XV — Quesnay admires his 
 sending astronomers to Mexico 
 and Peru to measure the earth 104 
 
 Louis Philippe's government ti- 
 nally restored the remains of 
 Mme. de Maintenon to the tomb 80 
 
 Lovers (The) trip to Italy . . .315 
 
 Liibeck Cheesemonger (Tiie) — His 
 curious case. F 91 
 
 Lucien Bonaparte and the snuff- 
 box 251 
 
 Lupercalia (The). Vuh Dr. Millin- 
 gen (loc. cit.). F 65 
 
 Lux (Dr. Adam), an enthusiastic 
 admirer of Charlotte Corday . 157 
 
 Lux (Dr, Adam) present at exe- 
 cution of Charlotte Corday — 
 His exclamation 157 
 
 Lux (Dr. Adam) is executed . .159 
 
 M. 
 
 M, Names in, '^connected with Na- 
 poleon's cai-eer 264 
 
 Macaulay, in Essays and lie- 
 views XV 
 
 Maine (Duke of), son of Mme. de 
 Montespan, born with a club- 
 foot 63 
 
 Maintenon (Mme. de), Mimoircs of. 72 
 
 Maintenon (Mme. de) — Her intri- 
 gues to supplant Mme. de !Mon- 
 tespan 71 
 
 Maintenon (Mme.de), Letter to the 
 Archbishop of Rouen 38 
 
 Maintenon (Mme. de) — Desecra- 
 tion of her remains in 1793 , 79 
 
 Maintenon (Mme. de), Bones of. 
 Mr. Jules Claretie's relation . 78 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Malady (The) of Sophie Arnould: 
 a scirrhus tumour of the rectum 
 the result of a fall 115 
 
 Malherbe (Letter of). F 13 
 
 Malmaison (La), residence of Jo- 
 sephine after her divorce . . . 265 
 
 Mantegazza (Dr. Paul), "Igiene 
 dell' Amore" (Milan, 1889) . . 237 
 
 Mantegazza, "/ Riti e le Fcste 
 JVuHali." 285 
 
 Mantegazza, Gli Amori dcgli Uo- 
 mini (pag. 95. vol. 1), Milan, 
 1892 286 
 
 Marbot, Mlnwires, t. I, p. 364. . 261 
 
 Marcel Prevost, On George Sand, 
 in the "Debats" 304 
 
 Mareehal (Mme.), wife of Mr. Jean 
 de la Brosserie, and M. de la 
 Busserolle. F 42 
 
 Maria Magdalena of Pazzi,anuu, 
 celebrated for her flagellations. 
 F 90 
 
 Marieton (M.), Une his lo ire 
 d'amour 310 
 
 Marie-Louise, said by Napoleon 
 to be his evil genius 256 
 
 Jlarlowe (Kit), Epigram. Works of 
 Christopher Marlow, London, 
 1826, vol. 3, p. 454. F 107 
 
 Martelet (Mme.), Funny anecdote. 310 
 
 Marryat (Captn), Rattlin the 
 Reefer. F 7 
 
 Mathitu de Montmorency (Duke), 
 devoted to Mme. Recamier , . 279 
 
 "Medicine"(Detroit, Mich. U.S.A.) xiir 
 
 Meibomius, "De usu flagrorum 
 i;i re medica et veneris," Fran- 
 cofurti, 1670. F 93 
 
 Meibomius, The Utilili) of flagel- 
 lation in the pleasures of Love 
 and of Marriage. F 93 
 
 Meibomius — How he came to 
 
360 ©ttviou^ mmm o^ ^^t^totth 
 
 PAGE 
 
 write his book "De usu fla- 
 
 grorum." F 94 
 
 IfSmoires de C'hoisy, t. I, p. 110. 43 
 '^Mimoires de MissOphelia Cox."F. 70 
 Mimoires de I'Estoile (Collection 
 
 Petitot, 1st Series XLIX, 26). F. 13 
 Memorial de Ste. HM^ne .... 237 
 
 Memorial de Rouen 268 
 
 Mcueval (Baron), Souvenirs of 
 
 Napoleon 223 
 
 Mercure de France, Nov. 178S . 100 
 Mercier, Tableau de Paris, on 
 persons born with teetli .... 29 
 
 Mercier, Noiivcau Paris 108 
 
 Michaud {Biographic Univcrselle, 
 
 art. Duroc) 245 
 
 Michelct, Le Pretre, la Femme el 
 
 la Famille. F 69 
 
 Millingen (Dr.), Curiosities of 
 Medical Experience (Lond. 
 
 1839). F 56 
 
 Mirabeau and Quesnay 103 
 
 Mirandole (Pic de la) relates a 
 curious case of an ardent flagel- 
 lant, F 90-91 
 
 Model of Eichelieu's face placed 
 before the Paris Anthropologi- 
 cal Society 23 
 
 Moliere's jaw-bone 93 
 
 Monastic life, Abuses connected 
 
 with. F 65 
 
 Monnoie (Bernard de la), "La 
 
 Discipline,'' a tale in verse. F. 108 
 Monson (Lord) whipped by his 
 
 wife. F 120 
 
 Monteil (Alexis), Histoire des 
 
 Franqais des divers Flats . . 79 
 Montespan(Mn3e.de)— The number 
 
 of her children by Louis XIY. 65 
 Montespan (Mme. de) — Iler final 
 
 less of favour 72 
 
 Montespan (Mme. de) — Her death 
 
 PAGE 
 
 and scandalous funeral .... 73 
 Montespan (Mme. de)— Part of her 
 
 remains thrown ii.to a ditch . 74 
 Moutesson (Mme. de), Anecdote 
 
 confirming Napoleon's fatalism. 234 
 Monteyremar (De), Ch. dc Corday 139 
 Monlholon (General), History of 
 
 the captivity at St. Helena . . 257 
 Montpensier (Mdlle. de), Memoirs, 
 
 Maestricht edition . . . . 48 
 
 Moore, Life of Byron xx 
 
 Moreau, the fortune-teller, visited 
 
 by Napoleon 244 
 
 Morand's (Surgeon) Clean bill of 
 
 health to Sophie Arnould . . . 116 
 Musset (Alfred de) attacked witli 
 
 brain fever 315 
 
 Musset (Paul de), " Lui et File". 304 
 Mysteries of the Court of London 
 
 (by G. W. Reynolds) .... viii 
 
 N. 
 
 Nancy — Supposed skull of Mme. 
 de Sevigne 83 
 
 Napoleon— His birth, curious cir- 
 cumstances — Napolcou's Star . 229 
 
 Napoleon— Previsions 255 
 
 Napoleon -Belief in God .... 225 
 
 Napoleon — His fear of the num- 
 ber thirteen 263 
 
 Napoleon — Dreads certain dates, 
 Friday in particular 260 
 
 Napoleon — Considers the letter M 
 as fateful 263 
 
 Napoleon Bonaparte iu Egypt^ — 
 Prediction of theArab pythoness. 237 
 
 Napoleon at Marseilles — The fort- 
 une-teller 235 
 
 Napoleon — His destiny 227 
 
 Napoleon — Belief in Fatality . . 226 
 
3nt>e^» 
 
 361 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Napoleon ou his way to Berlin. 259 
 
 Napoleon — Emotion at sound of 
 bells 225 
 
 Napoleon's divorce — His sad pre- 
 sentiments 253 
 
 Napoleon — Marriage with Marie 
 Louise 256 
 
 Napoleon— Prophetic warnings 
 before Russian Campaign. . . 258 
 
 Napoleon— before Waterloo— The 
 broken mirror 262 
 
 Napoleon — His contempt for ^les- 
 mer, Lavater, Gall and all 
 utopists 228 
 
 Napoleon — Faculty of intuition. 270 
 
 Napoleon I, Autopsy of — His heart 
 eaten by rats 91 
 
 Najyoleon (The anti-) by a Cor- 
 sican 258 
 
 Napoleon,'according to Mdlle. Le- 
 normand — Souvenirs d'line si- 
 bylle 247 
 
 Necropsy of Charlotte Corday— 
 Her virginity attested 181 
 
 Necropsy of Richelieu 18 
 
 Ninon de Lcnclos, Skull of. . . 78 
 
 Nunnez and Malagrida (The 
 Fathers), Confessors, apply the 
 birch to Court ladies 
 
 o. 
 
 Olivarius (Master), Curious pre- 
 dictions 265 
 
 Omar Kliayyam, Verses of . . . 132 
 
 Omar Khayyam 16 
 
 O'Meara (Dr.), Napoleon a fatal- 
 ist 227 
 
 Oracle (The Roman): " Dust her 
 
 (the wife) daily". F 121 
 
 Orfila (The toxicologist) .... 6 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Ormesson (d'), Journal of, gives 
 his accounts of the lyitig-in of 
 La ValliSre 49 
 
 Oscar the Outcast. F ix 
 
 Otway, " Venice preserved", Act 
 III, Sc. L F 107 
 
 Ovid, Epigraphs vi 
 
 P. 
 
 " Padlocks and Girdles of Chasti- 
 ty" {Liseux, Paris 1892j ... 287 
 Pagello — Physical appearance 
 
 when young 341 
 
 Pagello (Dr.) summoned profes- 
 sionally by George Sand . . . 317 
 Pagello — Amorous verses ad 
 
 dressed to G. Sand 324 
 
 Pagello arrives in Paris ... . 338 
 Pagello bids adieu to George 
 
 Sand 339 
 
 Pagello's son. Dr. Guisto Pagello 325 
 Pagello(Dr.)— Visitof Dr. Cabaues 331 
 Pagello (Dr.), 80 years of age — 
 
 Deaf — Wonderful memory. . . 333 
 Pagello (Dr.) — Interesting remin- 
 iscences 334—336 
 
 Palatine (the Princess) says that 
 King ceased to be enamoured 
 of La Valliere after her last 
 
 confinement 55 
 
 Pall Mall Gazette (June 5th, 1897). x 
 Pall Mall miliner (The) a famous 
 
 flogger. F 126 
 
 Pari (Le), 24 Dec. 1889. F. . . . 13 
 Parish girl (The) who became a 
 countess through having been 
 
 whipped. F 125 
 
 Parquin, Memoires 253 
 
 Partner (The model female). F. . 112 
 Pellet (Mr.), Account of the flog- 
 
362 6:ttti0u^ m)paU)^ of ^mott^. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ging of Theroigne de Meri- 
 court. F 52 
 
 Peregrinations of the body of 
 Duguesclin 87 
 
 Person (Mr.), the hairdresser who 
 dressed and powdered Charlotte 
 Corday's hair on the morning 
 of the day of Marat's assassina- 
 tion 144 
 
 Petronius, Satyricon, Chap. V. F. 3 
 
 Pfafien Unwesen, Monchscandale 
 und Nonnenspuk. Leipzig, 1872. 
 F 66 
 
 Pisanus Fraxi, Centuria Librorum 
 Absconditorum • . IV 
 
 Pisanus Fraxi, Centuria Libro- 
 rum Absconditorum (Loud. 
 1879). Particulars of the seduc- 
 tion of Marie C. Cadiere. F. . 56 
 
 Pisanus Fraxi — His opinion on 
 flogging. F 131 
 
 Planehe and Dumas — Their 
 quarrel 313 
 
 P leFsis (Mdlle. du) chosen to wait 
 upon La Vallifere 46 
 
 Ploss, 'Das Weib in der NaUir 
 und Volkerkunde" 285 
 
 Poet's (The) advice about beating 
 a wife. F 120 
 
 Potite (Lc), Paris, 1819, vol. I. F. 7 
 
 Pompadour (Mme. de) — Her bou- 
 doir and her friends 98 
 
 Posthumous liberality of Coitier 
 to the Church 12—13 
 
 Posts and Privileges (Lucrative) 
 accumulated by Coitier. ... 7 
 
 Pozzi (Dr.), Traits de Gynicoloyie. 
 
 Preservation, Remarkable state of 
 Richelieu's face 25 
 
 Princesses (List of) assisted in 
 confinement by Julien Cl^naent. 60 
 
 Prisoners at Bicetre- Their opin* 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ion of the guillotine 127 
 
 Profanation (The first) of Riche- 
 lieu's remains 19 
 
 Proposal to the Assembly by Dr. 
 
 Guillotin 125 
 
 Prostitutes, The whipping of, in 
 
 " Loudon Spy." ¥ 135 
 
 Prostitution (Houses of) where 
 
 flagellation still practised. F. . 98 
 Pseudo-aristocratic Journal . . . xi 
 
 Publishers (English) XVIII 
 
 Pullus (Cardinal) says: "Naked- 
 ness of the penitent an addi- 
 tional merit." F 56 
 
 Q 
 
 Quatrefage (Mr.) — His opinion on 
 the face of Richelieu 24 
 
 " Queens (Three) in a coach " 
 (Vide Clement) 44 
 
 Querlon (Mr.), in Preface to Abbe 
 Voisenon's work, mentions 
 Mdlle. Huchon, the bed-friend 
 of Voisenon. F 74 
 
 Quesnay, the celebrated doctor 
 and philosoper, is appointed 
 physician to Mme. de Pompa- 
 dour 99 
 
 Quesnay has an apartment assign- 
 ed him in the palace by Louis 
 XV, who surnames him The 
 Thinker 99 
 
 Quesnay receices a pension of one 
 thousand crowns 102 
 
 Quesnay's sincere aflfection for 
 Louis XV 101 
 
 Quesnay's dinner-table— His 
 friends 99 
 
 Quesnay's character— His freedom 
 of speech 100 
 
Snbcg* 
 
 363 
 
 Qiiesnay's bold expressions of 
 opinion to the King and to tlie 
 Daupliin 101 
 
 Quesnay — His scientific labour and 
 passion for study 108 
 
 Quesnay's calm death at the age 
 of 80 years 109 
 
 Quintiliau reproved the practice 
 of flarrellation. F 97 
 
 Rabbinical interpretation of fall 
 of man says that domestic 
 flagellation commenced in gar- 
 den of Eden. F. . 119 
 
 Rachildc, La Marquise de Sade. F. 10 
 
 Rapport inedit des Archives, 
 "involution do Paris", No. 
 201. F 52 
 
 Reeamier (Mme). — Her incomiia- 
 rable fascinating power. . . . 275 
 
 Reeamier (Mr.)— His death . . . 277 
 
 Reeamier (Mme.), Neither wife nor 
 mother 278 
 
 Reeamier (Mme.)— The physiolo- 
 gical mystery explained . . . 2Sl 
 
 Regent (The)— Fate of his heart . 91 
 
 Remusat (Mme. de), Memoires . 241 
 
 "Reprisals (The"), witty English 
 version of Boufflers' anec- 
 dote. F 49—51 
 
 Reputation (High professional) of 
 Clement before his appointment 
 as Court accoucheur C2 
 
 Restif de la Bretonne, Annde des 
 Dames nationales, 1794. F. . , 53 
 
 Restif de la Bretonne confirms 
 that Charlotte Corday died a 
 virgin 182 
 
 „E4vohitions de France et de 
 
 PAOK 
 
 Brabar.t" (Nos. 79 and 99). F. . 53 
 Revue des documents historiques. 125 
 
 Revue hebdomadaire 309 
 
 Revtie Bleuc 306 
 
 Revue des Deux Mondes, 1859 . 303 
 Revue rdtrospective, vol. IV. Diary 
 
 of Colbert 46 
 
 Revue Scientijique, 1890, Char- 
 lotte Corday's skull 
 
 Revue du Bas Poitou 17 
 
 Revue Scientijique (1895), pub- 
 lishes Colonel Duhousset's 
 report on Richelieu's skull . . 24 
 Ricard (General de), Autour de 
 
 Bonaparte 235 
 
 Ricard (Dr.), Lectures on Surgical 
 
 Pathology 284 
 
 Rhodigin (Coelius) narrates the 
 
 case of a debauchee. F. . . . 91 
 Reynolds (G. W. M.), Mysteries 
 
 of the Court of London . . . VIII 
 Richelieu's head stolen from his 
 
 tomb in 1798 20 
 
 Riches (Coitier's insatiable greed 
 
 of) 9 
 
 Rinconete y Cortadillo XI 
 
 Robespierre not a lady's man. . 214 
 Robespierre, Portrait of .... 212 
 Robespierre's neatness of attire . 214 
 Robespierre — Why he lodged at 
 
 Duplay's 205 
 
 Robespierre's room at Duplay's 209 
 Robespierre— Private life at Du- 
 play's- -Simple habits . . 210—212 
 Robespierre's evening at Du- 
 play's 216 
 
 Rochdale Observer (October 9th, 
 
 1897) VIII 
 
 Roland (Madame) revolts against 
 
 the birch. F 147 
 
 Rosetti, Epigraph 302 
 
 Roure (Marquis de), "Analecta- 
 
364 (^miou^ mjpam <>f ^ft^ioti). 
 
 PAGE 
 
 biblioii," Paris, 1835. F. ... 92 
 Eousseau (Jeau Jacques), " Cou- 
 
 fcssions." F 77 
 
 Russian marriage customs. F. . . 148 
 Russian serf-cirls beaten. F. . . 149 
 
 s. 
 
 Saiut-Andre-c!es-Arts (The Rue). 9 
 Saint- Beaussant(M.de), possessed 
 the skull of Mme. de Sevigue, 
 and gave it to the Dominican 
 
 Fathers 83 
 
 Saiute-Beuve and George Sand . 313 
 Saint-Edme, Biographic de la 
 
 Police 129 
 
 Saint-Germain (M. de) — Quesnay's 
 
 contemptuous opinion of him . 106 
 Saint-Ililaire (Gen. ^Jarc. de), 
 Hist, de la Garde Impiriale . 256 
 
 Saint-Simon, Mimoires 74 
 
 St. Vincent de Paul, Remains of. 87 
 Sand (George)— Her letters about 
 
 the illness of Alfred de Musset. 316 
 Sand (George), First letter to Dr. 
 
 Pagello 319 
 
 Sand (George)— Traits of her char- 
 acter 386 
 
 Sand (George) fond of tea . . . 337 
 Sand (George) — Her portrait . . 344 
 Sand (George) and Pagello — Cor- 
 respondence to be published 
 only after Pagello's death . . 345 
 Sanitary and Social Questions (in 
 
 Cotton Press, 1897). F 6 
 
 Sanson (the executioner) — His 
 
 opinion on the guillotine. . . 127 
 Sanson (the executioner) relates 
 in his Mimoires the execution 
 
 of Charlotte Corday 167 
 
 Sardou (Mr.), Book on Thermidor 202 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Saturday Review xii 
 
 Savoy (The Duke of) presents 
 Coitier to Louis XI, about the 
 year 1400 9 
 
 Scarron (Widow), afterwards Ma- 
 dame de Maiutcnon,obtains from 
 Louis XIY the reversion of her 
 late husband's pension .... 63 
 
 Scarron (The widow, later Mme. 
 de Maintenon) is charged with 
 the education of the Duke of 
 Maine, and obtains the King's 
 esteem 71 
 
 Schultzens (Walther), Ost-In- 
 dischc Reise (Amsterd. 1676) . 287 
 
 Schurigius(Dr.), Vide Gynwcologia. 286 
 
 Scott (James), member of Bird's 
 congregation, gets " a month " 
 for beating his wife. F. . . . 122 
 
 Sebillot, Revue des Traditions 
 Populaires 
 
 Segur (Mr.de), Les Femmcs. . . 134 
 
 " Sejour de Navarre" 4 
 
 Sell, Formation or Hist, of an 
 Individual Mind, London, 1837. 
 F 7 
 
 Separation of Louis from Mme. 
 de Montespan, and their recon- 
 ciliation 71 
 
 Settlers and Convicts, London, 
 1847. F 7 
 
 Sevigne (Mme. de) — Her skull . 80 
 
 Sevign& (Mme. de) — Exhumation 
 of remains 81 
 
 Sextus VI (The Pope)— Flogging 
 administered to a doctor of 
 Divinity. F 02-63 
 
 Shadwell (Thomas), " The Virtu- 
 oso;' Act IV. F 107 
 
 Shakespeare, Measure for Meas- 
 ure. I, 3. F 2 
 
 Shakespeare, Rich. II 28 
 
3nbe^. 
 
 365 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Shakespeare, Henry VIII, II, 3 42 
 Shakespeare, Rich. II, I, 3 . . . 58 
 Shakespeare, King John, III, 4 76 
 Shakespeare, K. Lear, I, 4 ... 96 
 Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, II, 
 
 4. The Passionate Pilgrim . . . 112 
 Shakespeare, Much Ado, IV, 4 . 150 
 Shakespeare, The Tempest, Act 
 
 III, Se. 3 166 
 
 Shakespeare, Timon of Athens, 
 
 I, 2 200 
 
 Shakespeare, Henry V, IV, 1 . . 222 
 Silvester Gerald, Account of a 
 flogging administered to a con- 
 cubine in Wales, iu 1188. F. . 63 
 Sixtus V (The Pope), Severe jus- 
 tice of. F 38 
 
 Skin (Tanned) of a girl used to 
 
 bind a book. F 134 
 
 Skulls (Human), Great ladies play 
 
 with 78 
 
 Smacking (The) of boys may some- 
 times lead to masturbation. F. 89 
 Smirnoff, Les Tchercmisses . F. 148 
 Smollett's Roderick Random. F. 7 
 Sophie Arnould— Her favourite 
 doctor, with his bottle darling 
 
 (Cruiskeen lawn) 114 
 
 Sophie Arnould surnames her 
 devoted friend Belanger, be.l- 
 
 ange 114 
 
 Sophie Arnould, from 33 till her 
 
 death a martyr to pain. . . .115 
 Sophie Arnould's medical cerli- 
 
 fieatc 116 
 
 Sophie Arnould brightens up and 
 makes her "scirrhus discharge 
 some of its humour." .... 116 
 Sophie Arnould feels '"too old 
 
 for love, too young for death." 119 
 Sophie Arnould, Death of . . . 120 
 Soumtzov, Sur les usages nup- 
 
 PAGE 
 
 tiaux. F 148 
 
 Spain (Queen of) sends three con- 
 secutive times for Clement to 
 assist her in confinement ... 64 
 
 Spanish proverb 122 
 
 Specimens of Table-Talk. May 27, 
 
 1830. F 7 
 
 Spencer (Herbert) Vll 
 
 Spoelberch de Lovenjoul, in Cos- 
 
 mopolis Review 319 
 
 Starnewspaper(October5th,1897).vill 
 Steele's opinion in Spectator. F. 120 
 Story about a young man said 
 to have broken his heart for 
 love of Charlotte Corday . . . 155 
 Stratford-ou-Avon (Church of) 
 Curious carving representing a 
 
 marital correction. F 123 
 
 Straw-plait manufacturer gets six 
 months for indecently birching 
 
 his servant girl. F 125 
 
 Sue (Junior), Essais historiqnes 
 sur I'Art des Accouchemcnts . 62 
 
 Sun (Weekly) xii 
 
 Sunday dinners (The) at Surgeon 
 Louis of wits and learned man, 
 Sophie Arnould the only female 
 
 guest 118 
 
 "Supremacy of the female tyi'aut." 
 
 F. . . .' Ill 
 
 Symons (Arthur) xvir 
 
 T. 
 
 Tabooed topics. F ix 
 
 Tale (Merry) of the lamprey and 
 
 the wife flogged by proxy. 
 
 F 140-146 
 
 Tallemant des Reaux, Historiettcs 
 
 — 3fdmoircs pour servir a Vhis- 
 
 toire du 17e SiMe. F 12 
 
366 dttdott)^ ^t)paU)^ of ^ymoti). 
 
 Tatet (Alfred), aiuateur of Cyprus 
 wine C38 
 
 Taylor (Jeremy) oa good wives. F. Ill 
 
 Taylor, Medical Jurisprudence . 
 
 Terence, A.D. F Ill 
 
 Theroigue de Mcricourt whipped 
 by the "Dames dc la Halle" 
 (Market women). F 52 
 
 Thousand Nights and a Night, 
 by Sir Pdchard Burton . . . XIV 
 
 Tieck's Reisende. F 7 
 
 Toueliard-Lafosse, in his Chro- 
 niquvs dr VOeil de Bauf nar- 
 rates the last confinement of 
 La Valliere 53 
 
 Touchard-Lafosse, La France 
 Galante 53 
 
 " Traits dn Foucf, et de ses effcts'" 
 (By Dr. Doppet), Paris, 1788. F. 93 
 
 Trcsnel (Marquise of) — Her easti- 
 gation on the highway. F. . . 12-t 
 
 Tripier (Father), Superior of the 
 Dominicans at Nancy — Letter 
 to Dr. Cabanes S3 
 
 Turenne, Remains of yO 
 
 Turlupiiis (The), a flogging sect 
 in France in the 13tli century. F. 64 
 
 Turquan, L'Imperatrice Jose- 
 phine 253 
 
 Twelve years a Slave, Lond. 1853. 
 F 7 
 
 u. 
 
 Union Midicale, 1853 — Napole- 
 on's star 232 
 
 Union Midicale, 1861, No. 97. . 47 
 
 "Untrodden Fields of Antliropo- 
 logy" (Paris, 1897) 287 
 
 ^l'Utilifi(De) de la flagellation", 
 Paris, 1792. F 93 
 
 Valari (Comte de), Journal Mili- 
 
 taire de Henry IV. F 13 
 
 Vandal (Alb.), Eevue des Deux- 
 
 Mondes 259 
 
 Varenne (Mathon de la), Les 
 
 crimes de Marat , 182 
 
 Yatel, the accredited liistorian of 
 
 Charlotte Corday 140 
 
 Yatel, Bihliographie Dramatique 
 
 de Charlotte Corday 157 
 
 Vatel papers (The) 141 
 
 Yattier, Correspondance litteraire 275 
 Yenette (Dr. Nicolas), Book on 
 
 Generation (Paris, 1751) — 
 
 Curious details ^92 
 
 Yermondois (Count of), fourtli 
 
 and last child of La Yallierc. 53 
 Yersailles library — The Charlotte 
 
 Corday Saloon 141 
 
 Verses, curious and witty, by 
 
 Qucsnay 104 
 
 Vigilauts and Purifiers. . . . xvii 
 Yigneul,Marville, Melanges d'his- 
 
 toire et de litiirature .... 90 
 A^illiers (Ciieron de) on Charlotte 
 
 Corday 140 
 
 Virginity (Fictitious) in China . 284 
 Virginity — People who set no 
 
 store upon it 286 
 
 Vizitelly (Ernest) xvi 
 
 Voisenon (Tlie Abbe), " E.vcrciccs 
 
 de Decotion de M. Henri Rock 
 
 avec Madame la Duchesse de 
 
 Condor:' F 74 
 
 w. 
 
 Walters (^frs.), the disciplinarian. 
 
 F 14 
 
 Waree, Curiositds littSraires . . 124 
 
3nt>e$» 
 
 367 
 
 PAGK 
 
 Welschinger, Le Roman de Da- 
 
 mouricz 187 
 
 West-End flogging Establishments. 
 
 F X 
 
 Westminster Gazette xvi 
 
 Whipped by proxy. F 140 
 
 Whitaker, 3Iary Queen of the 
 
 Scotts vindicated 282 
 
 AV'ife-beating Christian sect at 
 .Whitehaven (Vide London 
 
 Examiner, Oct. 11th, 1856). F. 121 
 Wife correction in the East. F. . 152 
 Wihlenbruch (Ernest von), Brunc- 
 
 hikle. F 10 
 
 Wills (Petrus), the merry flogging 
 
 monk. F 57 
 
 AVitkowsky, Les accouchcnients h 
 
 la Cour 48 
 
 Witkowsky (Dr.), Accoucheurs et 
 
 Sages-femmes cil^bres 47 
 
 Witkowsky, Anecdotes on per- 
 sons born with teeth 29 
 
 Wood, The Wedding Day. F. . 1 tS 
 
 Yoiithful{A) indiscretion of Louis 
 XIV, in The Secret Cabinet of 
 History, 1st Series .32 
 
 z. 
 
 Zola (Eniile) xvi 
 
 Zola(Emile),"Z'^lssommoir" — Tiie 
 
 beating in the wash-house. 
 
 F 80—82 
 
 Zola (Emile), "Theresa Raquin." 
 
 F 82 
 
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