/ 
 
 ^1^ 
 7^ 
 
 
MGR. DE SALAMON. 
 
• • • 
 
 • • • 
 
 9 • 9a»«,* 
 
 • • • » • , . 
 
MGR. DE SALliSisfr"''' 
 
 \ \ 
 
 OF 
 
 THE INTERNUNCIO AT PARIS 
 
 DURING THE REVOLUTION, 
 1790-1801- 
 
 WITH PREFACE, INTRODUCTION, NOTES, AND DOCUMENTS, 
 
 BT 
 
 THE ABBE BRIDIER, 
 
 Of ^ CUtss of lpar{0. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 
 
 1896. 
 

 T)Cl4-6 
 
 Copyright, 1896, 
 By Little, Beown, and Compant. 
 
 John Wilson awd Son, Cambridge, U. S. A. 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 Mgr. de Salamon, the author of these Memoirs, was 
 indebted to his position as a clerical councillor in the 
 Parliament of Paris for the favor with which he was 
 regarded by Pius VI., who appointed him internuncio at 
 Paris toward the end of the year 1790. The Memoirs 
 are divided into three parts, the first treating of the inter- 
 nuncio's imprisonment at the Abbaye with a number of 
 Catholic priests, nearly all of whom perished in the terri- 
 ble September massacres. The second portion deals with 
 the Chambre des Vacations, of which Mgr. de Salamon 
 was a member, and before which lawsuits were brought 
 during the interim created by the suppression of the 
 Parliaments. The Abba's connection with this body led 
 to his being proscribed by the existing government under 
 Robespierre, and the chapters he devotes to his pursuit 
 and escape give a vivid impression of the years 1793 and 
 1794 in the Reign of Terror. The third part is devoted 
 to events occurring under the Directory, Mgr. de Sala- 
 mon's correspondence with the Pope having caused his 
 arrest and trial on the chaise of conspiracy against the 
 government. 
 
 The Memoirs abound in anecdotes. " Without any pre- 
 meditation, in quite an offhand way, just as if he were 
 merely chatting or telling a piquant anecdote," says a 
 writer in '' Les ^fetudes," " M. de Salamon causes a numer- 
 ous gallery of scamps, rascals, tremblers, dastards, in- 
 grates, and assassins to defile before us; then, with a 
 
 667114 
 
VI INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 sudden change of the scenes, a number of admirable 
 figures, — Marie Antoinette, Madame Elizabeth, and so 
 many intrepid and faithful men and women of the 
 people." 
 
 Mgr. de Salamon's Memoirs — a narrative of some of 
 the most remarkable events in the French Revolution, from 
 the pen of an eye-witness, one who was also brought into 
 close contact with the social life of the time — remained 
 unpublished for nearly a century, but the manuscript was 
 fortunately brought to the notice of its editor. Abbe 
 Bridier, and published in Paris in 1891. 
 
 The volume naturally attracted much attention, and pro- 
 voked considerable discussion. While there was some 
 difference of opinion as to the author's appreciation of 
 the men and events of the Revolution, there was none 
 whatever as to the interest and charm of the narrative 
 itself. On this point royalists and republicans of every 
 shade were equally emphatic. 
 
 The Revue Politique et Litteraire made an insinuation 
 reflecting on the honesty of the editor of the Memoirs, 
 which it may be right to notice. M. Bridier in his preface 
 remarked: " Je leur ai fait la toilette." The reviewer 
 believed that this justified him in calling in question the 
 faithfulness and sincerity of the editor. But by submit- 
 ting the Italian text to men of the highest standing in the 
 literary world, M. Bridier proved that he had neither 
 betrayed his author nor deceived the public. The French 
 translation was admitted to be an exact and faithful ren- 
 dering of the Italian text, and Abbe Bridier's ' ' toilette- 
 making " consisted in dividing the Memoirs into chapters 
 and paragraphs, placing summaries at the head of the 
 chapters, and modifying in a few instances the somewhat 
 free phraseology of the internuncio. 
 
 >• Like Mr. Samuel Pepys, Mgr. de Salamon wrote of him- 
 self with the utmost frankness, and seems to have with- 
 held nothing. M. Maxime de la Rocheterie, whose Memoirs 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE. vii 
 
 of Marie Antoinette were so successful a few years since, 
 said of the work in the ' ' Revue Bibliographique Univer- 
 selle " : " Few memoirs are so interesting, because few are 
 so sincere and so really vecu. Unlike most writers of me- 
 moirs, M. de Salamon does not pose for posterity; he 
 paints himself as he is, relates his impressions as he felt 
 them, without disguising or dissembling the truth." *' Les 
 Etudes" reviewed the work in the same vein, saying: 
 ** He paints himself unconsciously to the life. He was 
 grand seigneur^ frankly attached to his duties, pious and 
 diplomatic as well, an amiable boaster, like all who have 
 grown under the sun of Provence, a charming and pictur- 
 esque causeur. There is a library of volumes on the Revo- 
 lution, but not one of them is more absorbing than the 
 three cahiers of the internuncio, and hardly any as in- 
 structive for the philosophy of history." The *' Revue 
 Encyclop^dique " said: "These Memoirs are an unex- 
 pected contribution to all that we know — not on the real 
 origin of the tragedy ; that, doubtless, we shall never 
 know — but on its shifting scenes and incidents." 
 
 A writer in *' Questions Historiques " (Jan. 1891), in a 
 review of the work, occupying thirteen pages, said : *' He 
 draws his own portrait in colors that must forever remain 
 indelible. . . . His narrative actually throbs and palpi- 
 tates with sincerity. . . . After reading all the works on 
 that period which have become classic, I consider the last 
 comer the most faithful of all." In the same notice the 
 wish is expressed that " in the next edition the publisher 
 would be good enough to let the public have a look at 
 the two portraits : one preserved in the Musee Calvet, 
 Avignon, representing him as clerical councillor at the 
 age of twenty-six; the other in the Bishop's Palace at 
 Saint-Flour." A photograph of the Avignon picture has 
 been made from the original in France especially for the 
 present edition, — the first translation into English, — 
 and reproduced in photogravure. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 By abb:6 bridier. 
 
 A FEW years ago, I happened to be in Rome, and was 
 living in the Via delle quattro Fontane, a charming and 
 favorite resort of the French clergy, as the guest of 
 M. Captier, the oflacial representative of Saint Sulpice at 
 the Vatican. 
 
 One day my friend received a visit from Signor Alles- 
 sandro Bossi, a Roman lawyer, who said to him, — 
 
 '* I have in my possession certain memoirs in manu- 
 script of one of your former bishops, M. de Salamon, 
 internuncio at Paris during the Revolution. I should like 
 to dispose of them. Would you care to have them ? " 
 
 At the same time he handed him three little volumes, 
 tre piccoli volumi^ to speak like Signor Bossi. 
 
 At the head of the first was written this classic motto : 
 
 " Infandum, regina, jvhes renovare dolorem ; ** 
 
 and beneath it, in large letters : 
 
 ** To Madame de Villeneuve, nee Comtesse de S^gur." 
 
 On the last sheet of each volume was the following 
 declaration : 
 
 " Certified to be a correct copy of the original, 
 
 Louis DE Salamon, Bishop of Orthozia,** 
 
 All the rest was written In another hand, and in Italian. 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 M. Captier did not even suspect that a bishop named 
 Salamon had ever existed, but he thought the document 
 might be of interest in connection with the history of the 
 Church of France. He was too busy, however, to follow 
 the matter up, and he sent Signor Bossi to me. 
 
 I received the manuscripts of the internuncio, read 
 them carefully, and was enchanted with the narrative and 
 with the personality of the writer. At the same time, 
 certain parts of these memoirs seemed to me to be, from 
 an historical point of view, nothing less than a revelation. 
 In short, M. Captier had not been mistaken: the work 
 deserved to be made known. 
 
 But had it not been published already? This was the 
 question I put to myself, on turning again to these words : 
 " Certified to he a correct copy of the original." What I 
 held in my hands was, after all, only a copy. Conse- 
 quently there existed, or had existed, an original. Where? 
 In France, no doubt, the narrative having been dedicated 
 to a Frenchwoman, Madame de Villeneuve-Segur. Had 
 this original text escaped the searchers? The thing 
 appeared hard to believe. They are so numerous, so 
 greedy, and the morsel was so dainty. Hence, doubt 
 and hesitation. How was I to know that this unpublished 
 work was not resilly published, forgotten, perhaps, in the 
 obscure recesses of our French libraries, or scattered in 
 the second-hand bookstores along our quays ? 
 
 I submitted these reflections to Signor Bossi. 
 
 '* True," he said, " I never thought of that." 
 
 *' I can easily believe you," I answered ; " these doubts 
 occur only to the buyers." 
 
 It was settled that I should clear up this difficulty, and, 
 in the mean time, the precious tre piccoli volumi were to 
 remain in the hands of M. Captier. 
 
 A little after, I returned to France, and began my 
 researches. 
 
 I wrote first to the family of Madame de Villeneuve- 
 
PREFACE. xi 
 
 S^gur, since it was to this lady the work was addressed. 
 I then visited Avignon, Carpentras, Saint-Flour, and 
 Rouen, places where the internuncio had lived. I con- 
 sulted his biographies in the biographical dictionaries.^ 
 I had recourse to MM. Delisle and d'Auriac, whose 
 courteous and intelligent co-operation dispensed me from 
 the necessity of making tedious investigations in the Rue 
 de Richelieu, and I acquired the certainty that this docu- 
 ment had never been published, and, in fact, that its 
 existence was utterly unknown. 
 
 I wrote to M. Captier, sending him the stipulated price, 
 and he forwarded me the manuscripts. Signor Bossi was 
 happy. 
 
 And I was not less happy than Signor Bossi; for, 
 though I had searched with zeal, it was with the very 
 ardent hope of finding nothing. 
 
 And now, from whom had the seller received the tre 
 piccoli volumif From a family, once in easy circum- 
 stances, who had been the hosts of Mgr. de Salamon. 
 
 This was all I could get out of Signor Bossi. He had 
 pledged himself to secrecy with regard to everything 
 else. 
 
 It is not much, and yet it is enough to enable us to 
 make a guess, at least, at the truth. 
 
 Received into the house of a noble family when he 
 arrived in Rome, the prelate desired to make some return 
 which might express his appreciation of this hospitality. 
 What should he offer? Clearly, nothing could be more 
 agreeable to his entertainers than these pages, entirely 
 permeated with his own personality. Moreover, the 
 thing was easy, the work having already been composed 
 for the benefit of Madame de Villeneuve. 
 
 He employed a skilful scribe ^ to make a fair copy on 
 
 1 In those of Barjavel, "Feller, Michaud, and Larousse. The hest is 
 that in Feller, enlarged by Pe'rennes. 
 
 2 Evidently one of the masters of the craft. Accordingly, he used 
 
xii PREFACE. 
 
 fine paper, revised and signed it with his own hand ; and 
 this was his present. 
 
 These three little volumes, preserved with such care, 
 so pretty and so fresh — when they were new — were kept 
 by this rich family for a long time. 
 
 But books, as Horace says, have their destinies, — the 
 destinies of their possessors themselves. 
 
 Poverty entered and sat down by the hearth. After 
 many other things had gone, the library was sold, all of 
 it save these manuscripts, the dear memorials of happier 
 days and of a much-loved guest. Then, as their wants 
 grew more pressing, they told themselves that this work, 
 too, had a venal value. It would tide them over their dif- 
 ficulties for a time, and so it was decided to offer it for 
 sale. 
 
 But they felt as those feel who are committing some 
 evil deed ; they enveloped the transaction in mystery, and 
 took every precaution to hide their secret. Such is, per- 
 haps, the explanation. It is not novel, it has accounted 
 for the appearance of many documents of the same kind, 
 and this fact renders it plausible. 
 
 It enables me, at least, to explain to my readers how 
 the copy of these Memoirs came into my hands. 
 
 As for the original, it has undoubtedly disappeared. 
 But what does it matter? My copy, bearing the signa- 
 ture of the prelate, and certified by him to be a faith- 
 ful transcript of the original, is quite as valuable as 
 the original; and, in this belief, I deliver it to the 
 public.^ 
 
 gold dust ! There are particles of it still adhering to the paper. The 
 scribe was not very well acquainted with Italian, for the errors are 
 numerous. 
 
 1 I add here a curious fact, communicated to me by M. Boulay de 
 la Meurthe. 
 
 The following passage occurs in Forneron's " Historie des ifemigres," 
 Vol.11.: — 
 
 *' When the Abb^ Salomon, ex-clerical councillor in the Parliament 
 
PREFACE. Xlii 
 
 of Paris, was prosecnted as a returned Smigrf, Merlin of Donai advised 
 the judges to condemu him, and, when he was acquitted, used several 
 ingenious arguments to persuade them to transfer him before another 
 tribunal." 
 
 As the author did not give any authority, M. Boulay questioned 
 him on the subject. He said, — 
 
 " I have read the Memoirs of this personage, but I cannot tell yon 
 any more, for they were given to me in confidence, and / have taken a 
 pledge of secrecy respecting them." 
 
 This is exactly what Signor Bossi said to me. Was it my copy, or 
 was it the original, that Fomeron saw ? 
 
 At all events, he must have read over the manuscript carelessly, 
 for the internuncio signs himself very legibly de Salamon, and no- 
 where does he speak of having been prosecuted as a returned emigre. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Paoi 
 
 INTRODUCTION xvU 
 
 BOOK I. 
 MY MARTYRDOM. 
 
 Chaptkb Pa« 
 
 I. The Arrest of the Internuncio .... 5 
 
 n. The Police Office of the Mairie .... 17 
 m. The Decree of the Commune on the First 
 
 of September, 1792 26 
 
 IV. The First Night in the Abbaye .... 36 
 
 V. Sunday in Prison 44 
 
 VI. Preparing for Death 51 
 
 VII. The People 64 
 
 Vin. The Massacre 70 
 
 IX. A Happy Diversion 79 
 
 X. The Examination 86 
 
 XI. In the Violon 95 
 
 XII. Free! 105 
 
 Epilogue ill 
 
XVI CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK 11. 
 
 MY LIFE DURING THE TERROR. 
 
 Chaptbb Pagk 
 
 I. The Chambre des Vacations 117 
 
 11. The Warrant of Arrest 130 
 
 III. The Couvent des Anglaises 141 
 
 IV. Through Paris 150 
 
 V. The Internuncio leaves Paris 159 
 
 VI. In Search of a Lodging 165 
 
 VII. A Week of Checkered Fortunes .... 180 
 
 VIII. The Two Fugitives 191 
 
 IX. Together again 197 
 
 Epilogue 204 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 MY TRIAL UNDER THE DIRECTORY. 
 
 I. Pius VL and the Directory 213 
 
 II, The Conspiracy of the Internuncio . . . 222 
 
 III. The Indictment 232 
 
 IV. At the Grande Force 239 
 
 V. The Conciergerie 249 
 
 VI. The Criminal Tribunal 255 
 
 VII. A Second Summons for the Internuncio . 265 
 
 VIII. A Coup d'J^tat 270 
 
 IX. At Last 278 
 
 X. The Acquittal . 287 
 
 APPENDIX 293 
 
 INDEX 825 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 WHY AND WHEN THE MEMOIRS WERE WRITTEN 
 
 Mgr. de Salamon was not at all anxious to write the 
 story of his adventures. It was not that the task fright- 
 ened him : he had a fluent pen, an excellent memory ; his 
 recollections were still vivid, and, besides, he had always 
 been in the habit of taking notes. 
 
 But he had also prejudices that no longer affect our 
 age : he feared to be considered by his fashionable asso- 
 ciates a mere scribbler, that is to say, one of those 
 unhappy people who barter their intellect for hire, and 
 " compose to live." 
 
 Moreover, he was modest, or, at least, was not afflicted 
 with the modem passion for notoriety, and did not care 
 that his personality and his sentiments should serve as 
 food for the curiosity of the public. 
 
 Consequently, the hunters after memoirs — and they 
 were numerous at the time, for the game was plenty — 
 were politely shown the door, when they approached him, 
 among others, the Abbe Sicard, teacher of the deaf and 
 dumb. 
 
 The latter would have given much to have the adven- 
 tures of his comrade in the violon, as he calls the inter- 
 nuncio, because both of them were shut up in one of 
 those little prisons in the Abbaye, called violons, 
 
 b 
 
xvui IXTRODUCTIOJ?". 
 
 He desired to join them to his own, and publish them in 
 the " Annales Catholiques," which he was about to issue. ^ 
 They would create a sensation, and bring in subscribers. 
 
 Having failed in his own person, and, indeed, met 
 with such a reception that he could not very well make 
 another assault, he sent a bookseller, he himself remaining 
 in the dark, with an offer of three thousand francs. 
 
 But the internuncio was an ex-magistrate; "More 
 tricks than one he knew full well." He scented this one 
 immediately: "I know who sent you," he answered; 
 " go, and take your money with you." The messenger 
 turned on his heels. 
 
 Yet at this moment — it was during the Terror — the 
 internuncio had not, to use his own expression, " a sou 
 in his pocket or a bit to put between his teeth." 
 
 Only at the behest of a sovereign, would he depart from 
 his resolution, and that sovereign was "the great, the 
 immortal Pius VI. ! " as he delights to term him. A few 
 days after leaving the Abbaye, he sent him an account 
 of the massacres ; still, it was a sort of diplomatic docu- 
 ment, brief, concise, and drawn up in Italian. ^ 
 
 The fortress seemed, then, impregnable, when Madame 
 de Villeneuve made her preparations to carry it. 
 
 She had long been intimate with the internuncio. She 
 had heard him often relate his adventures. They had 
 charmed her,** he related them so well. But she desired 
 to enjoy them comfortably, at her ease ; in other words, 
 she wished to read them. 
 
 1 The first number, in fact, contains the narrative of the Abbe 
 Sicard. 
 
 2 I have not been able to lay my hand on it. It would have been 
 interesting to compare it with the first book of the Memoirs. 
 
 * She was the daughter of Comte de Segur, grand master of cere- 
 monies to the Emperor, and sister of the author of " Napoleon and the 
 Grand Army." She married Baron de Villeneuve, treasurer general 
 of the city of Paris. One of her daughters married Count Balbo, the 
 Sardinian ambassador at Paris, whose name figures unpleasantly in 
 the Memoirs. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XIX 
 
 Still, she was well aware of the scruples of the narra- 
 tor. She understood and respected them; they were 
 quite in accordance with her own notions of what was 
 proper. She therefore gave him her word that the manu- 
 scripts should never leave her hands. And, if some 
 accident in the future should render this promise unavail- 
 ing, there remained another safeguard against eventu- 
 alities, — it was to have the work written in a foreign 
 language. Now, she spoke and wrote Italian quite as well 
 as the internuncio himself. The number of Italian poems 
 of her own composition, still in the possession of her 
 family, is decisive on this point. Why should he not 
 write his memoirs in Italian? This would be putting a 
 barrier, the Alps, so to speak, between himself and the 
 public. Who should ever hit on the idea of going to 
 look for him there ? 
 
 Add to this, that the fair petitioner was a very virtuous 
 and amiable woman and a very determined woman as 
 well. 
 
 Resistance was out of the question ! The internuncio 
 surrendered, and surrendered at discretion. He wrote 
 his memoirs, then, without reserve or restraint, without 
 distrust of the future. He lays bare his heart, has no 
 hesitation in giving the names of persons, quotes friends 
 and enemies, acts just as he would act if relating his ad- 
 ventures in the salons, — not forgetting to introduce an 
 odd little calumny now and then. 
 
 Evidently, he had determined to bring his revelations 
 to a stand at the end of the first book ; the conclusion 
 proves this. 
 
 But the appetite of Madame de Villeneuve grew with 
 what she was reading. He had to set to work again, to 
 add the second book, then the third, — in fine, to tell 
 everything. 
 
 This took place during the time M. Pasquier was Pre- 
 fect of Police. Consequently, the Memoirs were written 
 somewhere between 1808 and 1812. 
 
XX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Now, in 1812, Madame de Villeneuve died, at the age 
 of thirty-four. And so, like many other celebrated works, 
 — pardon me for the comparison, — this, too, has been 
 composed to satisfy the desires of a woman, and it is to 
 Madame de Villeneuve that we owe it. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE FAMILY OF THE INTERNUNCIO. — HE ENTERS THE 
 PARLIAMENT OF PARIS. 
 
 Before entering on the examination of the Memoirs of 
 the internuncio, it is well to say a few words of his bii-th 
 and of his position in the Parliament of Paris; for to 
 them he was indebted, partly at least, for the favor with 
 which he was regarded by Pius VI. 
 
 The Salamons (not Solomons, as it is often written) 
 were long settled in the Comtat Venaissin. 
 
 The father of the bishop was a native of Saint-Roman 
 de Mallegarde. He took up his residence in Carpentras, 
 where he married Anne Esseyri, the daughter of a printer,^ 
 and soon occupied the highest offices in the city. As first 
 consul,^ he stood at the side of Bishop d'Inguimbert when 
 that famous benefactor of Carpentras laid the corner- 
 stone of the magnificent hospital, still to be seen there. 
 This was in 1750. The following years find him fulfilling 
 the same functions, which, it may be remarked, by the 
 way, rendered him second in authority to the rector him- 
 self,' and could be conferred on the noblesse of the robe 
 alone. 
 
 He had two sons: Alphonse, Baron de Salamon, and 
 Louis-Sifferin, who is no other than our bishop. 
 
 1 She was of Italian origin. See Memoirs, p. 196. 
 
 2 The municipal magistrates were styled consuls. 
 
 8 The rector was the official representative of the Holy See in the 
 Comtat. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxi 
 
 The first was born in 1747. He was successively Secre- 
 tary of the Archives of the Legation of Avignon and 
 Vice-Seneschal of Montelimar, where he settled. He was 
 mayor of this city when the Revolution broke out He 
 was arrested and imprisoned in the Conciergerie, during 
 the closing days of the Terror, but was liberated on the 
 death of Robespierre, and became mayor of Lyons during 
 the Thermidorean reaction. His career, which has been 
 very differently appreciated, was noisy and stormy enough 
 to attract almost exclusively the attention of biographers, 
 and to throw that of his younger brother in the shade. ^ 
 
 Let us hope that these Memoirs shall assign to each his 
 proper place, and, without adding to or detracting from 
 the renown of the baron, whom, by the way, they do not 
 even mention,^ show that the internuncio is, after all, the 
 greatest glory of the family. 
 
 Barjavel, in his **Dictionnaire des hommes illustres de 
 la Provence et du Comtat," places his birth in 1750. A 
 more singular fact still is that the same date is found on 
 the portrait presented by his own nephew * to the Musee 
 Calvet, Avignon. If we are to believe his own testimony 
 (and why not?) it makes him out ten years older than he 
 really was. In book i chapter xi. of the Memoirs he 
 states that he was thirty- two in 1792. He must, therefore, 
 have been born in 1760.* 
 
 Besides this date, which is, after all, a matter of little 
 importance, he tells us that he was taught the rudiments 
 of Latin at Carpentras. One of his schoolmates was that 
 
 1 See, on Baron de Salamon, the " Histoire de Montelimar," by M. 
 de Coston. 
 
 2 It would seem natural that the internuncio should have said some- 
 thing of his brother, at least in Book III. But their political course 
 was very different, and the internuncio had less liking for a moderate 
 politician than even for a terrorist. 
 
 8 Ange-Marie-Alphonse de Salamon, who was receiver of indirect 
 contributions at Montelimar. 
 
 * It is the date given in the biography in Feller. 
 
xxu INTRODUCTION". 
 
 amiable Abbe Vitali, whom he was to see again, as he 
 relates, on the field of slaughter, twenty-three years later, 
 and who, unlike himself, did not escape the steel of the 
 assassin. 
 
 Then, at the age of nine, he left his native country, 
 which he was hardly ever to live in again, so to speak, and 
 entered the College de la Trinity in Lyons, which was in 
 charge of the Oratorians. What could have been the 
 cause of this separation imposed on a child of such tender 
 age? Perhaps the banishment of the Jesuits, who were 
 forced to leave the splendid establishments they held in 
 the Comtat and even in Carpentras. Perhaps, also, the 
 parents of Mgr. de Salamon may have shared the unjust 
 prejudices most lawyers entertained with respect to the 
 order, and preferred to send their son where he might 
 have masters of their own choosing. 
 
 At least, when once he had finished his course in the 
 humanities, an excellent superior education was within 
 his reach at home. We all know what was then the repu- 
 tation of the University of Avignon. I imagine that the 
 young student, while preparing for a clerical life, had 
 already a judicial career in his eye, as well from taste as 
 from family tradition. He was obliged to acquire a 
 certain portion of theology, but the whole bent of his 
 mind was toward law, and so we find him in 1780 doctor 
 and fellow of that faculty, which was the brightest glory 
 of the University of Avignon. 
 
 From that moment, honors began to crowd upon him ; 
 indeed, they would naturally come to the son of a first 
 consul of Carpentras, and the brother of a man high in 
 the favor of the legate of Avignon. 
 
 It is not probable that the Abbe de Salamon ever visited 
 Rome at this period; but the position of his family ex- 
 plains suflSciently the origin of his relations with Pius VI. , 
 and the kindness with which that great Pope treated him. 
 
 The Pope, in fact, named this young doctor, just fresh 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxiii 
 
 from college. Auditor of the Rota, a post formerly created 
 by Cardinal d'Armagnac with the consent of Rome. It 
 was already a nice opening, for the holder of the office 
 was required to be forty years old, and the abb^ was 
 hardly half as much. Then, at twenty-two, a new 
 favor. The deanship of one of the chapters of Avignon 
 becoming vacant, the auditor immediately offers himself as 
 a candidate, and as the new dignitary had to be a priest, 
 he asks for a dispensation to enable him to be ordained a 
 priest. The Pope grants it, adding graciously **that he 
 treated him on this occasion as he would have done a 
 nuncio or a prince."^ 
 
 "The inhabitants of the Comtat and of Avignon are 
 regnicolesy" says Expilly, in his " Dictionnaire des Gaules 
 et de la France." 
 
 This somewhat barbarous term signifies that, although 
 subjects of the Pope, they had the right, as well as the 
 Frenchmen of France, to fill all the offices of the realm. 
 They were not the sort of people to allow such a privilege 
 to remain a dead letter. A strong current set in from 
 Avignon to Paris, and ecclesiastics were carried away by 
 it as well as the rest One evidence of this is that, 
 among the seventy priests whom the Abbe de Salamon 
 met in the Abbaye, he found two of his fellow-townsmen.* 
 
 It is not, then, surprising that when the seat of one of 
 the clerical councillors in the Parliament of Paris became 
 vacant, he should have purchased it. A place in the first 
 judiciary of the kingdom was well worth the bench of an 
 Auditor of the Rota and the stall of a dean of the chapter. 
 
 I have not been able to discover the date of this event, 
 but it must have occurred previous to 1784, since he says 
 he took a prominent part in the famous affair of the 
 Diamond Necklace. 
 
 1 See book i. p, 7. 
 
 * The Abbes Vitali and Capparuis. 
 
xxiv INTRODUCTION". 
 
 Besides, the portrait in the Musee Calvet, which was 
 presented in that year, represents him as a member of the 
 Parliament. This picture was, no doubt, a present from 
 the young clerical councillor to his parents during his first 
 vacation. The artist, Jean Baptiste Bourgeois of Avig- 
 non, has represented him standing, at full length, with 
 the insignia of his dignity, in a black robe, the sleeves of 
 which have a purple border, and with the band. The 
 absence of the traditional cap is explained by the fact 
 that he holds a sheet in his hand, and seems to be read- 
 ing some report or other before the Chambre des Enqu^tes. 
 The abundance of his hair and the care with which it is 
 powdered are enough of themselves to confirm the con- 
 fidences of which he is prodigal with regard to this por- 
 tion of his person.^ 
 
 Nothing can be more interesting than the physiognomy. 
 The regular yet animated features, the sparkling eyes, 
 which are full of intelligence, the thin, flexible lips, offer 
 a singular mixture of virile energy and almost feminine 
 distinction. The latter quality is predominant, and the 
 one the spectator remembers best. In short, this portrait 
 is a real illustration of the character of the internuncio, 
 and explains, at least partially, the magnetism he exer- 
 cised over all who approached him.^ 
 
 The career of the young magistrate in the Parliament 
 was very short. 
 
 In fact, he entered it only to witness the lamentable 
 spectacle of its closing years, to see it engage in an in- 
 terminable sti-uggle with the court, oppose an obstinate 
 resistance to the most wisely democratic measures, make 
 repeated assaults on the royal authority, and fall at last 
 beneath the blows of the States-General it had so ardently 
 desired. 
 
 1 He returns often to these details of his toilet. He attached great 
 importance to them. 
 
 '•2 As is seen everywhere in his Memoirs. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxv 
 
 m. 
 
 THE INTERNUNCIO. — HIS MEMOIRS. — THEIR HISTORICAL 
 VALUE. 
 
 It is with his memoirs in my hand that I now follow 
 the career of the internuncio, not with the view of simply 
 repeating his story, but to detach from them the principal 
 facts that concern the Revolution in general, and the 
 Church of France in particular. 
 
 The Chambre des Vacations having been established to 
 fill the interim created by the suppression of the Parlia- 
 ments, the Abb^ de Salamon was appointed a member of 
 it. He has given a summary of its history at the begin- 
 ning of the second book of his work. The passage is 
 interesting; and, under an anecdotal form, contains a 
 certain amount of valuable information for whoever may 
 wish to write a detailed history of the Parliament of 
 Paris. 
 
 The author, indeed, was the only one of his colleagues 
 who escaped the scaffold, and I do not believe there ex- 
 ists another authentic narrative of the last moments of 
 this celebrated assembly. 
 
 At the moment when it was about to separate, that is 
 to say, toward the end of 1790, Mgr. Dugnani had to 
 leave Paris, where there was no longer either honor or 
 safety for the representative of the Holy See. The Abbe 
 de Salamon was appointed by Pius VI. internuncio in his 
 place. The reasons for this selection will be seen in the 
 Memoirs themselves. 
 
 But what the author does not tell us is that he had 
 been for a long time before a candidate for this important 
 post. The letters which I give at the end of the volume 
 leave no doubt as to this. From 1786, he keeps the 
 Cardinal Secretary of State informed of the events, both 
 
XXVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 political and religious, that succeed each other with such 
 rapidity. He notes carefully the progress and changes of 
 public opinion, condemns or praises the conduct of the 
 higher dignitaries among the clergy, and takes very good 
 care that his own services shall not be forgotten. He 
 even goes so far as to advise the adoption of such and 
 such a measure. In short, he assumes the mission of 
 official informant to the Holy See. He takes this mission 
 so seriously that he is in dread of being compromised, 
 should his letters be opened. So, to guard himself against 
 the '^ Black Cabinet," an old institution it would seem, he 
 is careful not to sign his letters dating from 1788. 
 
 All that Pius VI., therefore, had to do was to give his 
 mission an official character. 
 
 The Memoirs throw a full light on this mission, about 
 which little has been known until now, although it had 
 considerable importance ; for it does honor to the Pontiff, 
 who wished to show to the end, even under the Terror, the 
 deep interest he took in the French Catholics and the 
 French clergy, and to Mgr. de Salamon himself, who, by 
 accepting these delicate functions at such a time, exposed 
 himself to the greatest peril. 
 
 One of his first acts was to transmit to the metropoli- 
 tans and to publish among the people the famous Briefs 
 on the Civil Constitution of the Clergy. 
 
 It was a direct blow aimed at the partisans of this con- 
 stitution. They tried to parry it, and found — it was 
 necessary to find something — that these briefs were 
 spurious. Hence a very vigorous quarrel between them 
 and the faithful clergy. A word from the internuncio 
 might have put an end to it, at least for men of good will. 
 But he did not utter it, for a very excellent reason, — he 
 would thereby have pointed himself out to the execu- 
 tioner. 
 
 However, in 1821, he had occasion to explain his con- 
 nection with the Briefs in a letter to the " Ami de la Reli- 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxyii 
 
 gion."* This important declaration, contained in a few 
 lines, is, as it were, lost in the one hundred and sixty 
 volumes of the review, and, doubtless, that is why it has 
 escaped the notice of historians. 
 
 Well, he renews it in his Memoirs, and thanks to them, 
 it can now take its place on the firm ground of history. 
 
 Henceforth, there can be no doubt as to the authenticity 
 of these Briefs. They were received, forwarded in due 
 canonical for^m to the metropolitans, confided to the printer, 
 and scattered among the public by Mgr. de Salamon, the 
 internuncio, the official representative of the Holy See. 
 
 The publication of the Briefs had no effect. Pius VL 
 knew this well, and this knowledge explains his long 
 silence. The schismatic clergy were more and more 
 favored, the orthodox clergy more and more persecuted. 
 Then the internuncio, who was never given to specula- 
 tion, but always a man of action, drew up an address, 
 had it signed by the Catholics of Paris, and placed it in 
 the hands of the king. At the same time, he transmitted 
 a copy of it to the Pope. It is a fine page, honorable 
 alike to the writer and to the signatories. It fully proves 
 the official character of Mgr. Salamon, and, notwithstand- 
 ing its length, I think it right to give it in full. 
 
 A ddress of the Catholics of Paris presented to the king on the Qth 
 of October, 1791, and sent by the internuncio to the Sover- 
 eign Pontiff, Pius VI. 
 
 Sire, — The Catholics of Paris have, for more than a month, 
 been exiled from their temples, deprived of their worship, and 
 exposed to all the outrages of fanaticism, without uttering a 
 single word in protest. 
 
 Disciples of a Master who, when dying on the cross, prayed 
 for his executioners, children of a religion whose first law is 
 charity and whose chief benefit to the world is peace, they 
 believed for a time that it was their duty to stifle their com- 
 plaints and hide their sorrows in the depths of their own 
 
 1 See Appendix, p. 298. 
 
xxviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 hearts. But now that the promulgation of the constitutional 
 laws must have calmed the public excitement, we venture, sire, 
 to speak of our rights to the common liberty, and to demand 
 for the exercise of our worship the protection of the laws. 
 
 We shall not say to your Majesty that our religion existed in 
 France before the monarchy, and that we have received it from 
 our fathers, who themselves received it from their ancestors. 
 But we do say : 
 
 We are Frenchmen, obedient to the political laws of the state, 
 and ready to contribute to its needs, not from compulsion, but 
 from conscientious principle. We wish, we desire only peace. 
 The Constitution of the kingdom gives us rights ; it is time that 
 we enjoy them. The nation depends on you, sire, for the execu- 
 tion of the laws. It is to you, then, that we must henceforth 
 carry our grievances, and to your justice and to your energy do 
 we denounce the persecutions of which we are the daily victims. 
 Your Majesty is not ignorant that even on the very day of the 
 acceptance of the Constitution, the outrages of fanaticism have 
 been of a character to dishonor a free nation, and the cradle of 
 the Constitution has been suUied by infamous deeds.^ 
 
 But it is not enough for us that we should be permitted to 
 worship clandestinely, nor does the Constitution itself exact 
 such a condition of things. Law and good order require that 
 our worship be public, and this we demand. 
 
 To those who cry " Purchase temples of your own, then," we 
 answer, sire: 
 
 " These temples were built by our ancestors, by the disciples 
 of our worship forming the greater portion of the inhabitants 
 of the capital, and, in their totality, the greater portion of the 
 inhabitants of the nation." 
 
 We place, besides, under the eyes of your Majesty the im- 
 mense sacrifices we have made for the Revolution, and the enor- 
 mous mass of taxation that overwhelms us, on account of the 
 property we possess. 
 
 Yes, sire, we proclaim, without fear of contradiction, that 
 every hundred of the Catholics of Paris pay more in taxes than 
 ten thousand of those who wish to hamper us in the exercise of 
 our worship. 
 
 1 The women who attended service at the ifeglise des Irlandais were 
 whipped on leaving the church. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxix 
 
 In view of these considerations, we demand, sire, that the 
 temples in each parish iu Paris be placed at the disposal of the 
 dissident or non-conforming Catholics. Your Majesty will thus 
 confer a benefit of the very highest nature on your subjects. 
 By thus tranquillizing consciences, you will dry the tears and 
 prevent the despair of multitudes of unfortunate people. 
 
 On the other hand, nothing in our worship will be out of har- 
 mony with the laws of the state, and the nation will have no 
 truer patriots, and your Majesty no more loyal subjects. 
 
 But if we are so unhappy as to be the only slaves in a free 
 realm, we do not wish to hide from you, sire, that the neighbor- 
 ing kingdoms will offer us an asylum where our rights shaU be 
 respected ; and the love of our faith is strong enough to induce 
 us to seek elsewhere both laws that give us liberty and chiefs 
 powerful enough to guarantee us its enjoyment.^ 
 
 We are, with respect, sire, of your Majesty the very faithful 
 and humble servants. 
 
 The Catholics of Paris.* 
 
 Such a daring step could not fail to expose the Abb^ 
 Salamon to the hatred of the revolutionists. They took 
 good care, then, that he should be iu the draught taken 
 in the first net cast before the September massacres. He 
 was arrested as internuncio of the Pope, thrown into 
 prison, and finally conducted to the Abbaye.* 
 
 His account of those terrible days is certainly the most 
 circumstantial, the most full of details, the most vivid 
 and vigorous that has ever been written. Moreover, it 
 breathes everywhere a great air of sincerity, and agrees 
 in all important particulars — and we cannot expect more 
 — with contemporary narratives.* Certainly, it must 
 command the attention of all historians of the Church 
 and of the Revolution. 
 
 What an admirable figure the internuncio brings before 
 
 1 An evident allusion to the emigration. 
 
 2 See Theiner, " Unpublished Documents relative to the Religious 
 Affairs of France," t. i. ch. cxix. 
 
 3 See Picot, vi., p. 216. 
 
 * Those of the Abbe Sicard and M. de Chamois. 
 
XXX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 us in the Abbe Royer, the cure of Saint-Jean en Greve, 
 the type of priest he loved, with his simplicity and hero- 
 ism, and his tenderness and compassion for the weak- 
 nesses of others ! Sicard has merely given a vague out- 
 line of the portrait, here we have it at full length. 
 
 What an angelic profile is that of the young Minim 
 monk, the eldest brother of Paul Seigneret, whose sole 
 fear is that he may not be put to death, who resists 
 his presenters and joyously gives himself up to his 
 murderers ! 
 
 Next, we have a spectacle which recalls and confirms 
 that of the Carmes and of Saint-Firmin. Sixty priests 
 witness the approach of the most frightful of deaths. 
 They can escape ; they have but to utter a word. Not 
 one utters it, because it would be contrary to the 
 truth. 
 
 Without doubt there are some shadows in the picture.^ 
 But the author frankly confesses his weaknesses, and this, 
 too, is an additional evidence of his veracity. Let those 
 cast the first stone, who, placed in a similar position, feel 
 assured that they would have done better. 
 
 The explanation of the massacre, that " Saint Bar- 
 tholomew of the French Revolution," as Napoleon called 
 them,^ is also found in the Memoirs of the internuncio. 
 It was the Commune of Paris that originated, prepared, 
 
 1 The Abbe Godard, grand vicar of Toulouse, escapes through a 
 window, and forgets to point out to his companions this path of safety. 
 The Abbe Sicard hides where he can, and the internuncio himself has 
 recourse to a piece of strategy which is, indeed, marvellous, but has 
 nothing heroic about it. See " Memoirs," pp. 64 and 80, 
 
 2 " One evening at Saint Helena, Napoleon remembered that it was 
 the anniversary of the massacres of September. He said to us, awak- 
 ing from a kind of revery : ' To-day is the anniversary of a hideous 
 event, the massacres of September, the Saint Bartholomew of the 
 French Revolution, a bloody stain, the work of the Commune of Paris, 
 that infamous rival of the Legislative Assembly, which drew all its 
 strength from the passions of the dregs of the people.' " See " Corre- 
 spondance de Napoleon," xxxii., p. 343. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxxi 
 
 and organized this abominable butchery. It was a band 
 of assassins, the dregs of the people, enrolled and paid 
 by it, that executed the deed of horror. The people was 
 always the people : it followed the lead of others ; it was 
 misguided, but not naturally bad. It seeks for the 
 innocent among those prisoners, who have been pictured 
 to its eyes as great criminals, defends and protects them, 
 tears them even from the arms of the relentless butchers 
 and blood-drinkers. Hence the singular mixture of 
 ferocity and mildness, of justice and fury, which keeps 
 pace with every step of the narrative and surprises the 
 narrator himself. 
 
 On the other hand, a certain number of fiery revolu- 
 tionists, Manuel, Tome, Sergent, Dugazon, and Maillard, 
 the legendary Maillard, owe him a debt of gratitude. He 
 shows that there was something good left in the hearts of 
 even the most sanguinary of these men. This is not the 
 least pleasing of the characteristics of these Memoirs. 
 After all, it is well to think that monsters are rare. I 
 may add that the best biographical accounts of these 
 individuals do not contradict the narrative of the inter- 
 nuncio. Petion is the only one who fares ill at his hands. 
 Has he been innocently calumniated by him? I am in- 
 clined to think so. Otherwise, this Petion was a mon- 
 ster of hypocrisy. 
 
 However this may be, the Abbe de Salamon escaped 
 from the snare he says Petion laid for him, with the loss 
 only of his hair.^ 
 
 But there were two persons in the abbe, the internuncio 
 and the magistrate, and both had their quarrel with the 
 Revolution. The internuncio had escaped, at least for 
 the moment. It was now the turn of the magistrate. 
 
 He had, in fact, been a party, like all his colleagues, to 
 the famous protest of the Parliament against the acts of 
 
 1 There is still great uncertainty as to the part played by Petion, 
 who was mayor during these three days. 
 
xxxu INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the National Assembly. This document was discovered in 
 1794. At the bottom of it was read the name de Salamon. 
 The members of the Committee of General Safety at once 
 issued a warrant for his arrest. 
 
 His usual luck did not forsake him, — he escaped. The 
 reader will see how, and will read with eagerness this 
 curious Odyssey of an outlaw under the Terror. 
 
 Assuredly, this portion of the Memoirs is almost every- 
 where purely anecdotical, and has but little importance in 
 connection with general history. 
 
 Nevertheless, I gather a more lively impression from it 
 of the terrible years 1793 and 1794 than I do from any 
 other work on the subject. What a time that must have 
 been, when an honorable man, an ex-member of the 
 Parliament of Paris, the oflScial representative of the 
 Holy See, saw himself reduced to such a condition that 
 he had to wander in the woods, sleep on straw or leaves, 
 live without shelter and without food, as if he were the 
 vilest of vagabonds, or, as he says himself, a wild beast ! 
 Some pages may give us the idea of the Terror; these 
 give us the sensation of it. 
 
 And yet the Abbe de Salamon does not lose his head ; 
 in fact, he never loses it. He continued still to exercise 
 his functions, — not, indeed, those of internuncio, now 
 without an object, but those of vicar apostolic. It is the 
 title given him by Pius VI. after the massacres, and it 
 perfectly describes the situation of France, fallen back, 
 so to speak, into the savage state. 
 
 He surrounded himself with priests, proscribed like 
 himself, and, at the very gates of the capital, in the 
 teeth of the Convention, he organized his council, gave 
 his decisions, granted dispensations, and, thanks to a 
 thousand expedients suggested by his subtle and indus- 
 trious mind, he found means to continue his correspond- 
 ence with Pius VI. and Cardinal Zelada. 
 
 Oh ! if I could only have laid my hands on that cor- 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxxiii 
 
 respondence, that diplomatic correspondence, of which 
 the Memoirs contain so many delicious fragments ! What 
 remorse, or rather, what regrets, my failure has caused 
 me! For remorse I have not, and cannot have. I 
 have searched and questioned and set in motion all 
 whom I could persuade to help me, — those for whom the 
 Vatican Archives have no secrets, and those at whose 
 will all their doors fly open. The result will excuse me 
 from making further investigations. My agents have 
 been referred back to me, — for I had kept in the shade, 
 — as being the only person in France or in Rome who 
 was thoroughly acquainted with the career of Mgr. de 
 Salamon ! 
 
 Undoubtedly, it has been mislaid, lost, or destroyed.^ 
 This is a real misfortune for my volume; it would have 
 been the gem of the work. It would also have been all 
 important for the internuncio, for it would have proba- 
 bly furnished proofs in support of the first chapter of the 
 third book, that chapter so curious and suggestive for 
 those who believe that history, like the web of Penelope, 
 is always to be remade. 
 
 In this chapter, in fact, the Concordat of 1801 dates 
 from 1796! It is ascribed to Pius VI. and the Directory 
 rather than to the First Consul, and was negotiated by 
 the Abbe de Salamon rather than by Consalvi ! 
 
 All this is very astonishing and very little in harmony 
 with what we know of the five Directors.^ There is no 
 trace of it anywhere except in our Memoirs. Even a 
 fragment from the Archives of Foreign Affairs, quoted 
 by M. Sciout, is far from corroborating it.* Moreover, 
 
 1 Perhaps burned. A part of the Archives in the Quirinal were 
 consumed when Pius VI. was arrested in 1798. 
 
 '^ La Reveillere-Lepaux, Rewbell, Le Tourneurs Barras, and Carnot. 
 Certain documents quoted by Theiner would lead us to suppose that 
 the only man who thought of a Concordat, at this time, was the young 
 general of the Army of Italy. 
 
 ' In " Rome, le Directoire, et Bonaparte en I'an IV. et V. " the 
 c 
 
xxxiv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 there is a certain amount of incoherence in this chapter, 
 regarded from a chronological point of view. At least, 
 this is the impression it makes on me now. It may be 
 different if ever the diplomatic correspondence is 
 discovered.^ 
 
 A crowd of anecdotes, from which much may be 
 gleaned, concerning the prisons, prisoners, and victims of 
 the Revolution, form interludes between the thrilling acts 
 of the dramatic trial that composes the remainder of the 
 book. The adversaries of the Directory will find here a 
 new charge levelled against it. The truth of this portion 
 of the narrative, in nearly all its details, is fully confirmed 
 by the journals of the period. 
 
 But they have condensed where the abbe has enlarged. 
 The latter speaks of three summonses, the former of only 
 two. The Memoirs date the final judgment on the 3d of 
 March, the newspapers in January. It is a curious fact 
 that it is the narrator himself who has suggested to me 
 the thought of examining the journals, and thereby estab- 
 lishing the discrepancy between him and them. 
 
 But, to resolve the question fully, it would be necessary 
 to examine the jail registers of the Conciergerie and the 
 archives of the Criminal Tribunal of the Seine. They 
 were all burned by the Communists ! 
 
 However, I must not forget the author ; if I did so, he 
 would consider that he had good ground for dissatisfac- 
 tion, for he certainly never forgets himself. The thing 
 
 question relates to the Abbe Evangelisti, secretary of legation. Evan- 
 gelisti, strange to relate, is the pseudonym used by the internuncio 
 in his correspondence with Rome. 
 
 1 There is, however, one document that would seem to me to have 
 a natural connection with such a negotiation ; it is the famous Brief 
 of Pius VI. to the Catholics. We know what angry protests it raised, 
 and how its authenticity was contested, because it appeared too favor- 
 able to the Directory. It was published in 1796, that is to say, during 
 the time of the assumed negotiations of the internuncio with the 
 Directory, 
 
 See Picot, vii., p. 26. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxxv 
 
 is very natural besides, for he was writing his own adven- 
 tures. In addition to this, he always saw himself, while 
 writing them, in the midst of a sympathizing circle of 
 auditors, male and female: that he should dwell on his 
 own personality as much as possible was their eager 
 desire. 
 
 Perhaps even the illusion, I was going to say the mir- 
 age, common to lively imaginations, to talkers who talk 
 of themselves, to the authors of memoirs, has led him to 
 embellish a little here and there. This is a simple suppo- 
 sition of mine; it occurred to me while reading these 
 pages ; I give it for what it is worth ; and, with this par- 
 enthesis, I come to my concluding observations. 
 
 When we speak of the clergy of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury, we always have in our minds two extreme types, 
 both represented in these Memoirs, the one by the heroic 
 cure of Saint-Jean en Greve, the other by that abbe of 
 the second book whom the author very correctly describes 
 as his lamentable compatriot. 
 
 Well, the Abb4 de Salamon has nothing in common 
 with this poor scapegrace, but neither does he quite re- 
 semble the first. He represents a new type, which stu- 
 dents of the eighteenth century ought not to forget, — the 
 magistrate priest, the abbe who is at once a priest and a 
 man of the world. 
 
 He associates very little, or not at all, with his brother 
 clerics; he would rather draw up reports than preach 
 sermons; he takes more interest in the perplexities of 
 a legal investigation than in hearing confessions, and 
 is better acquainted with the customs of France than 
 with the Holy Scriptures. He frequents the company 
 of distinguished jurists and of persons noted for rank 
 or talent. Living in their midst, he adopts their tastes 
 and habits, secularizes himself, if I may venture to use 
 the term. This is easily seen in the Memoirs, but we 
 need not be scandalized at it. 
 
xxxvi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 For it is right to remark that all this concerns only the 
 outward seeming ; at bottom, in heart and soul, the inter- 
 nuncio remains, to use the expression of Saint Paul, the 
 model of the flock. 
 
 When he believes that he is about to be massacred in 
 the Abbaye, he makes his examination of conscience, and 
 says to God, to strengthen himself against the terrors of 
 his judgment: "You know that I have never spoken 
 against your holy religion," — a confidence characteristic 
 of the man and of his en\4ronment. The priest to-day 
 has not the duty nor even the opportunity of frequenting 
 the society of those who ridicule his beliefs. When he 
 appears, politeness itself produces a certain self-restraint. 
 But it was not so in the eighteenth century, and if the inter- 
 nuncio refused to enter every salon which took its tone from 
 Voltaire, he would have been constrained to live like a 
 hermit : and this was not at all to his taste. But, unlike 
 certain abbes who have become only too celebrated, he 
 kept silence, and protested by his attitude. 
 
 Such as he is, and as he artlessly paints himself, I like 
 him much for his beautiful warmth of soul, his devotion to 
 Pius VI. and to the Church, and his filial tenderness for 
 the poor woman of the people, Blanchet, his faithful old 
 housekeeper, who is the pearl of these Memoirs, although 
 they contain a good many others. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE BISHOP OF ORTHOZIA. — THE CONCORDAT OF 1817. 
 
 Relieved of his functions in 1801 by the arrival in 
 France of the Legate a latere, Mgr. Caprara, the Abbe 
 de Salamon was immediately named administrator general 
 of the dioceses of Normandy. This province was then in 
 a state of great agitation. The ill feeling that existed in 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxxvii 
 
 all the rest of the country between the non-juring and con- 
 stitutional priests was there complicated by a great quarrel 
 between the sees of Rouen and Scez. As the government, 
 which had not yet signed the Concordat, and the cardinal, 
 who had not yet been recognized, could not act officially, 
 the aflPair was intrusted to the Abb^ de Salamon.^ 
 
 The latter travelled through the dioceses of Normandy, 
 appointed grand vicars, and succeeded in restoring peace. 
 At least, such is the testimony he renders to himself in 
 the closing pages of his work. But it would seem that 
 he flatters himself a little, as the author of the *' Memoirs 
 on the Ecclesiastical Affairs of France " affirms that he did 
 not obtain much success. 
 
 However this may be, he did not lose his time. 
 
 The Abb^ de Salamon, as a lawyer, preserved a very 
 strong liking for documents. It is a characteristic of 
 which De Pradt speaks with much severity in his " His- 
 toire des Quatre Concordats," but it must be acknowledged 
 that the troubled times in which he lived rendered it very 
 valuable. It enabled the internuncio to send to Pius VI., 
 on his demand, detailed biographies of all the constitu- 
 tional bishops. He also collected, as he tells us himself,* 
 information in Normandy on the non-juring and constitu- 
 tional priests of the different dioceses of this province, 
 thinking that some time or other it might be turned to 
 account. He was not mistaken. Fifteen years later, in 
 
 1 See " Memoires sur lea Affaires Ecclesiastiques de la France," 1. 
 Paris, 1823. 
 
 ^ " As for myself, I have always been obliged to live in Paris or in 
 its neighborhood, and / know everybody. Any information your Ex- 
 cellency may require with respect to such or such a person I am ready 
 to supply. When I was Apostolic Administrator of Normandy, I 
 gathered correct information on the priests of the different dioceses, 
 and, in a very impartial manner, even on the intruded priests. And so 
 I was able to send true and correct biographies to Pius VI." (a collec- 
 tion we should be very glad to discover!) "of all the constitutional 
 bishops he wished to learn something about." Part of a letter quoted 
 by De Pradt. 
 
xxxviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 fact, we see him place it at the disposal of Cardinal de 
 Perigord.^ 
 
 When his mission was finished, Mgr. de Salamon retired 
 for a long time into private life. Did he do so voluntarily? 
 I do not think so, and I believe that, in spite of his attach- 
 ment — which he is rather fond of parading — to the 
 ancient order of things, he would have gladly accepted 
 one of the sees erected by the Concordat, of which, for 
 that matter, his devotion to the Church rendered him 
 quite worthy. Two rather curious letters, exchanged 
 between him and Cardinal Gerdil, which I give at the 
 end of this volume, will be likely to influence the reader's 
 opinion upon this subject. 
 
 However, he had to content himself with the episcopal 
 consecration he received at Rome in 1804, as titular 
 Bishop of Orthozia in partibus injldelium. 
 
 Still, there were writers who envied him even this 
 reward.^ Witness De Pradt, who, in the work already 
 cited, sneers at this honor " as one of those favors of 
 which Rome is not sparing." 
 
 It will be admitted that this criticism is in rather bad 
 taste, levelled as it is at a man who twice risked his 
 head for the Church. De Pradt, who was successively 
 Bishop of Poitiers and Archbishop of Malines, never 
 did as much. 
 
 It was in connection with the Concordat of 1817 that 
 Mgr. de Pradt encountered Mgr. de Salamon, whom he 
 has so badly treated. 
 
 The latter, in fact, returned on the stage with the 
 Restoration. Being a decided reactionary, he was one 
 
 1 De Pradt, ibid. 
 
 2 Not only writers, but Napoleon himself. The Abb^ de Salamon 
 had been nominated by Pius VI. proprio motu. The emperor com- 
 plained loudly, refused to acknowledge the bulls, and caused an 
 organic decree to be added to the Concordat, forbidding any Prench 
 ecclesiastic to be named bishop without the consent of the government. 
 See " Mdmoires sur les Affaires Ecclesiastiques de France/' ii. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxxix 
 
 of those who regarded Napoleon as an usurper, the 
 empire as an interregnum, and all its acts, even the 
 most important, as null and void. Therefore, when he 
 was appointed by the king Auditor of the Rota at 
 Rome, in 1815, he did not feel the slightest hesitation 
 in going and taking possession of the post. There was, 
 however, one difficulty. The office had been already 
 filled for several years by Mgr. Isoard, a prelate of 
 spotless character. The result was that Mgr. de Sala- 
 mon found himself in a delicate and somewhat ridicu- 
 lous situation, the bitterness of which he felt deeply. 
 It is only thus that the violent passages in two singu- 
 lar letters, quoted by De Pradt, can be explained.^ 
 
 These letters were sent to one of the secret negotiators 
 of the Concordat of 1817, Cardinal de Talleyrand-Peri- 
 gord, ex- Archbishop of Rouen, and subsequently Arch- 
 bishop of Paris. They show that their author felt as 
 little respect for the Concordat of 1801 as he did for the 
 nomination of Isoard. And, in fact, the two acts were 
 closely connected. The question, at bottom, was to de- 
 cide which party should triumph, the extremists or the 
 moderates, and whether the contracts made by the Court 
 of Rome with a sovereign who had reigned twelve years 
 over France were valid or not. 
 
 The wise Pius VII. judged that they were. The Con- 
 cordat of 1817 was only a renewal of that of 1801. Iso- 
 ard was maintained, and Mgr. de Salamon would have 
 remained an Auditor of the Rota in partibus as well as a 
 bishop, had not the king insisted that the Pope should 
 appoint him Bishop of Belley, one of the forty-eight new 
 sees lately erected. 
 
 But, for reasons I cannot discover, he never occupied 
 
 1 "The philosophes" says De Pradt, in "Les Quatre Concordats," 
 "have never spoken worse of the Court of Rome." Then Mgr. de 
 Pradt read very little of the philosophes ! Moreover, Mgr. de Sala- 
 mon wrote ab irato, and in a confidential communication. All this 
 makes a difference between him and the philosophes. 
 
xl ESTTRODUCTION". 
 
 this see, and had to wait until 1820, when he was nomi- 
 nated to the bishopric of Saint-Flour. After so many 
 agitations and checkered fortunes, he anchored in port 
 at last. 
 
 THE EPISCOPATE OP MGR. DE SALAMON. 
 
 It cannot be said, nevertheless, that Mgr. de Salamon 
 was destined to enjoy the sweets of repose. 
 
 For a long time, Saint-Flour had been without a bishop. 
 Mgr. de Belmont had died during the quarrel of Napoleon 
 with Pius VII. ; his successor, Mgr. Joubert, was unable 
 to take possession of his see, and, in spite of the efficient 
 administration of a grand vicar such as M. de Roche- 
 brune, the diocese suffered in consequence. 
 
 Happily, the new pastor bore his sixty-two years lightly. 
 His portrait in the Episcopal Palace of Saint-Flour, taken 
 at this period, is a visible testimony to the fact. 
 
 The top of the head, entirely divested of hair, leads the 
 mind of the spectator back to the massacres of Septem- 
 ber ; for it was after, and in consequence of, that long 
 agony that it began to fall as he himself tells us. All 
 that is left are two long, white tufts, which adorn the 
 temples and set off the face agreeably. 
 
 But, apart from this, it is astonishing to see him again, 
 with head erect and firmly planted on the square shoulders, 
 a complexion glowing with animation and color, eyes 
 bright and clear, — in short, breathing in his whole person 
 a fire and activity that only need an opportunity for their 
 display.^ 
 
 ^ In the absence of his Lordship, Mgr. Baduel, Bishop of Saint- 
 Flour, Mgr. Lamoureux and Canon Boyer, my friend, have kindly 
 allowed me to study this portrait. I transcribe here our common 
 reflections. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xli 
 
 You cannot take a step at Saint-Flour without meeting 
 some memorial of tliis fruitful episcopate. 
 
 Here, at the entrance of the town, you see the fine 
 monastery of the Visitation, which owed, in great part, 
 its erection to his encouragement and generosity, — a fact 
 recalled by his arms sculptured above the principal en- 
 trance ; there, not very far away — nothing is very far 
 away at Saint-Flour I — the congregation of Notre Dame, 
 whose development he favored, and which, under his 
 episcopate, sent a swarm to found at Salers a boarding 
 academy, still in a flourishing condition. But the Petit 
 Seminaire and the Grand Seminaire were his works of 
 predilection, because they were at that time the most 
 necessary of all. 
 
 Saint-Flour had, in fact, like the other dioceses of 
 France, seen the vocations of the young nobles exhausted, 
 at least generally, on account of the suppression of eccle- 
 siastical benefices. Hence a sensible lowering both in 
 the number and in the intellectual level of the clergy, for 
 poor families, or families in moderately comfortable cir- 
 cumstances — and from them, almost alone, could the 
 clei^y be recruited, now that the career was one of self- 
 sacrifice only — could not afford their children adequate 
 means of education and intellectual culture. The bishop 
 had a disheartening proof of this in the style, and even in 
 the orthography, of the letters he received.^ 
 
 Is there any need of adding that he keenly deplored a 
 deficiency which seriously impaired the prestige of the 
 clergy? 
 
 " Vainly," said he, in one of his pastorals, *' would you 
 possess a solid training in theology and ecclesiastical 
 subjects. Men do not judge priests by standards which 
 they are themselves incapable of appreciating. It is of 
 
 1 See the collection of his pastorals. I have been able to examine 
 them in the library of the Grand Seminaire, thanks to the courtesy 
 of the Lazarist Fathers. 
 
xlii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the greatest importance that the people should regard the 
 priest as belonging to the learned class," — words as 
 good in themselves as they are worthy of repetition, 
 and which find their best commentary in the efforts of 
 sectaries in all ages to shut out the clergy from the 
 sources of human science. They explain the efforts and 
 sacrifices of Mgr. de Salamon in favor of the seminaries. 
 Any one wishing to know them in detail has only to run 
 over the collection of his pastorals. It is from it I have 
 gathered the little information on this subject I now lay 
 before the reader. 
 
 Let me confine myself to stating here that he succeeded 
 in winning the favor of Charles X. for the Maison de 
 Pleaux, already of some antiquity, prevailing on him to 
 create it a Petit Seminaire, with nine burses and eighty 
 half burses, gifts, alas ! destined to be ephemeral ; ^ that 
 he widened the curriculum by inscribing mathematics and 
 natural philosophy in it ; that he created examinations in 
 literature, rudimentary enough, for that matter, which 
 students had to stand before entering the Grand Semi- 
 naire, in presence of the bishop and grand vicars ; and that, 
 finally, he founded, with the assistance of a holy and ex- 
 cellent priest, the Abbe Tripier, an ecclesiastical boarding 
 academy at Saint-Flour. 
 
 This institution had a somewhat modest beginning : the 
 pupils attended the courses of the College Royal, to-day, I 
 believe, the College National. But when the law of 1850 
 brought us freedom of secondary teaching, it decided to 
 use its own wings, and soon attained a degree of pros- 
 perity that does honor to the foresight of its founders. It 
 is to-day, in its full development, a worthy rival of its 
 sister in Pleaux, and giving to the diocese of Saint-Flour 
 distinguished men and virtuous priests. 
 
 As for the Grand Seminaire, Mgr. de Salamon restored 
 it to its ancient masters, the Lazarists, who had held pos- 
 
 1 I think there is nothing left of them at present. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xliii 
 
 session of it from 1676 up to the Revolution, when they 
 were banished. Then, to guarantee a fuller supply of 
 priests, he aided indigent students out of his own purse, 
 and left them in his will a hundred thousand francs,^ in 
 order to assure to them after his death, as he had done 
 during his life, food, clothing, and wood to warm them. 
 The rest of his property he bequeathed to the poor. 
 
 The good sower cast his seed on a fruitful soil. The 
 harvest was abundant, and he had the happiness of seeing 
 it with his own eyes. In his lenten pastoral of 1828, 
 which we may regard as his Nunc dimittis^ he throws a 
 satisfied glance over all his diocesan works, and salutes 
 particularly the hundred and fifty pupils of his Grand 
 Seminaire, '* the joy," he says, " and crown of my epis- 
 copate." It was better than the reward of his generosity, 
 — it was the fruit of God's benediction on a father who 
 freely surrendered his children to Him. 
 
 No one can, in fact, read without a lively emotion his 
 pastoral instruction of the 1st of January, 1826, by which 
 he established in his diocese the work of the Propagation 
 of the Faith, founded at Lyons, in 1822. 
 
 After enumerating the diflSculties of the missions and 
 mentioning among other slight and familiar details that 
 " a bottle of wine for saying mass costs a hundred and 
 twenty francs, when it reaches Tong-King," he declares 
 that he will gladly welcome any young cleric who asks his 
 permission to go on the foreign mission, and orders his 
 pastoral instruction to be read twice a year in the Grand 
 Seminaire. Considering how much Saint-Flour suffered 
 from lack of candidates for the ministry, this was pushing 
 his confidence in Divine Providence to heroism. It seemed, 
 indeed, for a moment, as if Mgr. de Salamon had been 
 
 ^ According to what M. Coston tells me, his family gave him 
 little comfort. It would seem that they attacked the will, and, to 
 avoid scandal, the authorities of the diocese consented to a com- 
 promise. 
 
xliv INTRODUCTION". 
 
 guilty of imprudence. In the year 1827, twenty-one of 
 his priests died. But this was a passing trial, and, in 
 balancing accounts, God was as generous as he. 
 
 Mgr. de Salamon died on the 11th of June, 1829. Thus 
 God spared him the grief of seeing another revolution, 
 and the final ruin of that dynasty he loved so well, in the 
 storm of 1830. 
 
 He was buried, by his express wish, as a pauper in the 
 common grave. 
 
 When a stop was put to interments in the garden of the 
 Visitation, then used as a burying ground, Mgr. de Pom- 
 pignac, one of his successors, but at that time canon, had 
 his remains exhumed. 
 
 They rest, it appears, in the present cemetery, in the 
 vault reserved for the members of the chapter. I say, 
 '' it appears," for this great benefactor of Saint-Flour has 
 not even a tomb, not even a cross, upon which his name 
 might be read. 
 
 His humble wish has been faithfully obeyed ! 
 
 There is, however, one house that desired Mgr. de 
 Salamon to have something more than a place in the 
 memory of grateful hearts. Need I mention that it is his 
 house of predilection, his Grand Seminaire ? 
 
 Over the entrance to the chapel and class-room are two 
 marble slabs, on which are engraved these words, — words 
 expressive and delicate in their sobriety ; — 
 
 1 LA M^MOIRE 
 DE 
 
 MONSEIGNEUR DE SALAMON, 
 
 ]^VEQUE DE SAINT-FLOUR, 
 
 D^c^de Le 11 Juin, 1829. 
 
 Par La Reconnaissance du Grand Se'minaire, 
 
 Envers Son Illustre et Ensigne Bienfaiteur. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xlv 
 
 Sach is the man and such the prelate whose Memoirs I 
 present to the public. I have, as the nature of things 
 sometimes required, dressed them up a little. But I do 
 not care to say any more ; there are secrets between them 
 and me which would interest nobody. 
 
 I wish only to say that I have removed to the two 
 extremities, the Introduction and the Appendix, all that 
 seemed to wear an appearance of erudition. 
 
 In this way, I have succeeded in rendering the cur- 
 rent of the narrative limpid and easy. The reader will 
 sail down it without effort. He will be captivated by the 
 charm of all the amiable faces he sees reflected in it, 
 one after another,* and will become the better for see- 
 ing; and, doubtless, Mgr. de Salamon, looking down from 
 his heavenly home, will pardon me for having published 
 his Memoirs.* 
 
 Paris, the 14th of May, 1890. 
 
 1 It reflects here and there some ugly physiognomies also; but 
 that is nothing in comparison with the Blanchets, the Dellebarts, 
 the Colins, with Mile. Grandin, the Cur^ of SainfrJean en Gr^ve, 
 Richard, etc In short, these Memoirs show us human nature at ita 
 best, and this is not so common at the present time. 
 
 * I beg to offer my sincere thanks to all who have kindly aided 
 me ; but my thanks are especially due to my two colleagues, MM. 
 Lamarche and Daix. The latter has afforded me the help of his 
 ripe experience for the most thankless and arid part of the work. 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 MY MARTYRDOM 
 
 Lasting from two o'clock in the afternoon of Sunday, the 
 2d of September, 1792, until eight in the morning of 
 Monday, the 3d of the same month, in the garden of the 
 Abbaye of Saint-Germain des Pr^s. 
 
 Infandunif reginOj jubes renovare dolorenu 
 
 Cruel to be told, great queen, is the sorrow you bid me revive. 
 A£NKA8 TO Dido— YiBGiL, Aeneidf ii 8. 
 
TO 
 
 MADAME DE VILLENEUVE, 
 
 Nit COMTESSE DE S60UR. 
 
 After nineteen years of misery and distress, — 
 years during which I have suffered every kind of ill 
 fortime, and been exposed to every kind of perse- 
 cution, — I bow with submission to your expressed 
 desire, madame, and I promise to recount, for your 
 own eyes, one of the most terrible scenes in the Revo- 
 lution, — that scene which preceded and foreboded 
 another more tragic still, when a funeral pall was 
 stretched over France, and consternation took hold 
 of all Europe.^ 
 
 You wish me to write the lamentable story of the 
 September massacres, at which I was present, having 
 been dragged to the field of slaughter as the repre- 
 sentative of the Pope, and where I witnessed the 
 murder of seventy of my unhappy companions, escap- 
 ing myself only by the visible grace of that Divine 
 Providence which twice rescued me from the scaffold 
 aftei-ward. 
 
 Yes, madame, you shall be obeyed. Such amia- 
 bility and virtue as yours have a compelling power, 
 and I do now what I refused to do when compliance 
 
 1 The execution of Louis XVL 
 
4 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 would have relieved my own dire distress.^ Do not, 
 however, expect from me a flowery and brilliant 
 style. I shall write all the details of the horrible 
 drama I can remember, with simplicity, without orna- 
 ment, and, perhaps, without connection. 
 
 My heart is still too much agitated whenever I re- 
 call this hideous massacre, and my mind is too much 
 enfeebled by years and anxieties to permit me to 
 hope that there may be much order and clearness in 
 this narrative. 
 
 1 The Abbe Sicard, instructor of the deaf and dumb, frequently 
 solicited me to give him my memoirs, and he even sent a bookseller to 
 me with an offer of three thousand francs for them, at a time, too, 
 when I actually was in want of food. {Note hy the author.) 
 
MEMOIRS OF MGR. SALAMON. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 MY MARTYRDOM. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE ARREST OP THE INTERNTJNCIO. 
 
 The Asnt de Salamok is kambd Internuncio. — Letters from 
 Pics VI. and Cardinal Zelada. — The Edict in favor of 
 THE Protestants. — The Internuncio before Louis XVI. — 
 His Arrest. — Madame Blanchet. — Marat and his Medi- 
 cines. 
 
 I WAS born a subject of Pius VL, of holy memory, 
 and the favors I received from him were of a nature 
 to excite the strongest feelings of devotion to his 
 person. It was not surprising, therefore, that, when 
 Dugnani, his nuncio at the French court, frightened 
 out of his wits by having the bleeding head of a 
 life-guard flung into his carriage, abandoned the 
 capital and fled to the baths of Aix, in Savoy, his 
 Holiness should wish to appoint me in his place, with 
 the title of internuncio to Louis XVI., then residing 
 at the Tuileries. I was informed of the intentions of 
 
6 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOX. 
 
 the Sovereign Pontiff by Cardinal Zelada, his Secre- 
 tary of State. 
 
 Alarmed at the idea of undertaking such a mission, 
 and having a secret presentiment of the dangers to 
 which I was likely to be exposed, I refused the 
 honor, but offered to act as adviser to Quarantotti, 
 who remained at Paris after the flight of the nuncio. 
 He was secretary of the papal embassy, or, to give 
 him his real title, auditor of the nunciature. But 
 Pius VI., a great Pope if ever there was one, was 
 fond of having his own way, and was not satisfied 
 with Quarantotti. He ordered him to quit the capi- 
 tal at once, after sending the archives of the nuncia- 
 ture to my residence. The Pope informed me, by 
 his Secretary of State, that he declined to accept my 
 excuses. To cut short all protests on my part, he 
 deigned to give me my orders under his own hand. 
 They were contained in a long letter of six folio 
 sheets with gilt edges. The letter had this pecu- 
 liarity, — that it was written in three languages. It 
 began in French with " mon cher ab'he,^'' was continued 
 in Italian, and ended with the words, '•'■ Pontificatus 
 nostri anno decimo seftimo^^^ and the signature, " Pius 
 Sextus.^^ 
 
 The letter was of the most affecting nature. His 
 Holiness reminded me, with paternal affection, of all 
 he had done for me. And, in fact, he had done a 
 great deal. At the age of twenty-one, I was ap- 
 pointed Auditor of the Rota, although the rules of 
 that eminent office required that its holder should be 
 forty. I was also made Dean of the Chapter of Avi- 
 gnon, and, as this dignity can only be conferred on a 
 
THE ARREST OF THE INTERNUNCIO. 7 
 
 priest, the Pope granted me a dispensation, enabling 
 me to be ordained at the age of twenty-two,^ and 
 added to the dispensation this formula : more princi- 
 pum et nuntiorum^ which means " a privilege reserved 
 to princes and nuncios." 
 
 His Holiness, in his letter, was graciously pleased 
 to instruct me himself as to the manner in which I 
 should act. He also told me what he thought of cer- 
 tain ministers, and especially of M. de Montmorin, 
 minister of foreign affairs, whom he did not at all 
 like. His Holiness, however, said nothing of his 
 reasons for distrusting this statesman. He was pro- 
 fuse in his eulogies of my conduct in the Parliament 
 of Paris, particulariy in the famous case of the 
 Queen's Necklace,* in which Cardinal de Rohan was 
 implicated. But, above all, he praised me for my 
 efforts to prevent the edict in favor of the Protestants 
 from being registered. I had, indeed, been very 
 zealous in opposing it, and it would never have been 
 passed had not Mgr. de Juign^, the Archbishop of 
 Paris, taken the side of the Protestants. His defec- 
 tion led to that of many others, and the edict became 
 law.^ 
 
 I kissed with reverence the letter of the great Pon- 
 tiff, and devoted myself unreservedly to his service, 
 resolved to suffer death rather than abandon it. My 
 reply, marked by the deepest submission and loyalty, 
 moved him profoundly. He testified his satisfaction 
 
 1 Instead of twenty-four, the canonical age. 
 « 1786. 
 
 « It was registered on the 9th of Jannarj, 1788. It placed Protes- 
 tants on an equality with other citizens. 
 
8 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 with me through the medium of Cardinal Zelada, a 
 minister in every way worthy of such a sovereign. 
 
 In obedience to the wishes of the Sovereign Pon- 
 tiff, I carefully avoided the presence of M. de Mont- 
 morin, and sought an interview with the Due de 
 Brissac, a French peer with whom I had been politi- 
 cally connected from 1787 to the beginning of 1789, 
 during the sessions of the Parliament. I asked him 
 what was the best method of obtaining an audience 
 with the king. 
 
 M. de Brissac received me with open arms, saying : 
 
 " It will delight me to be of service to you." Then 
 passing to another subject: "Ah, my dear abb^,'* 
 he exclaimed, " what are we coming to ! If we had 
 not allowed the edict to pass, all this would not have 
 happened." 
 
 " I am as sorry for what has occurred as any one 
 could be, M. le Due," I replied ; " but at least it is 
 neither your fault nor mine." 
 
 After a short conversation, he said, — 
 
 " Return at noon to-morrow." 
 
 He had apartments in the Tuileries, on the ground 
 floor. I was punctual to the minute. As soon as 
 he saw me he said : " The king will receive you at 
 one to-morrow. I will introduce you myself." 
 I expressed the lively sense I entertained of his 
 kindness. 
 
 I was presented to his Majesty on the next day. 
 The king was by himself in his study, which seemed 
 very small. He smiled when he saw me, and said : 
 
 " I recollect your name, for you were once at Ver- 
 sailles (I had been there twice as a member of a 
 
THE ARREST OF THE INTERNUNCIO. 9 
 
 deputation from the Parliament), but not your face. 
 What can I do for the Pope ? " 
 
 " Sire," I answered, " at present the only order I 
 have received from his Holiness is to express to your 
 Majesty the deep interest he takes in your situation, 
 his affection for your sacred person, and his assuiv 
 ance that the Church may always rely on your pow- 
 erful protection. In the present condition of affairs, 
 he cannot give a greater proof of his confidence than 
 by appointing a member of your own Parliament to 
 represent him at your Majesty's court; and," I 
 added, "your Majesty may rest assured that the 
 fidelity I owe the Pope as his subject cannot in any 
 degree lessen the loyal allegiance I owe your Majesty, 
 and which I have sworn as a member of your Parlia- 
 ment. You will have every day proofs of my zeal for 
 your service in administering justice to your subjects 
 in the Chambre des Vacations,^ under the presidency 
 of M. de Rosambo." 
 
 The king was graciously pleased to express his 
 gratitude to the Pope for the evident good-will im- 
 plied in the selection of myself as his representative. 
 
 My residence at this period was in the Cour des 
 Fontaines, Palais Marchand.^ 
 
 1 had refused to abandon the ecclesiastical habit 
 and mount guard, before the 10th of August. After 
 that fatal date, I was constantly insulted and threat- 
 ened in the streets. On one occasion, five men pur- 
 
 ^ Established by a decree of the National Assembly on the 29th of 
 November, 1789, to perform certain legal functions in the absence 
 of the Parliament. 
 
 2 Near the Palais-Royal, Rue de Valois. 
 
10 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 sued me through the Rue Saint>Eustache, shouting : 
 " Look out for the aristocrat I look out for the aristo- 
 crat of the Palais ! " I walked along quickly, keep- 
 ing close to the shops, and so escaped. I could not 
 help turning round now and then, however, and say- 
 ing to my persecutors: "Why are you attacking a 
 pei-son who is doing you no harm ? " 
 
 From that moment, I was on my guard, although 
 there was no change in my mode of living. For, 
 mild and gentle as you may think me now, my nat- 
 ural disposition is never to yield to fear, and never 
 to do anjrthing on compulsion. 
 
 At length, a massacre was resolved on at a secret 
 meeting, and the several sections searched every- 
 where for priests, and even for laymen who had be- 
 come objects of suspicion. 
 
 I was not troubled for seventeen days afterward, 
 and was beginning to have a pleasant feeling of 
 security. Still, as I had heard some talk of a domi- 
 ciliary visit, I cautioned my housekeeper — the most 
 devoted of servants, but an aristocrate, in the parlance 
 of the times, to the tips of her fingers — to be very 
 polite and humble with the commissaries of my sec- 
 tion, in case they did me the honor of calling on me. 
 
 This admirable woman had been an attendant of 
 my mother for over thirty years, and had been 
 specially intrusted by the latter with the manage- 
 ment of my domestic affairs, for they are matters 
 with which I never meddle. 
 
 It was fortunate I warned her, for, on the night 
 following, at two in the morning of the 27th of 
 August, there were loud and repeated knocks at my 
 
THE ARREST OF THE INTERNUNCIO. 11 
 
 door. My poor housekeeper, in her hurry to execute 
 my orders to the letter, ran her head against the 
 comer of a door in the dark, and was painfully hurt. 
 In spite of this, she threw open the door, and ushered 
 five men, dressed in tricolor scarfs, into my bed- 
 room. They were the commissaries of my section, 
 and were followed by twenty armed men. 
 
 I had been indisposed for some days, and was at the 
 time so feverish that I was obliged to rest my elbow 
 on the pillow while drinking a glass of lemonade. 
 
 " You see before you, gentlemen," I said, as they 
 were entering, "a man with a high fever, lying in 
 bed. What do you want ? " 
 
 ** Oh, do not be uneasy ! " answered one of them, 
 who seemed to be the leader. " We do not intend to 
 cause you the least annoyance ; we know you are the 
 Pope's ambassador : give up your correspondence." 
 
 " Indeed I " I returned. " Then, if you know I am 
 the Pope's ambassador, you know also that my person is 
 sacred; and yet you have forcibly violated my domicile. 
 As to my correspondence, it has so little value in my 
 eyes, that I am in the habit of using it to warm my 
 shirts before putting them on. You will, perhaps, 
 find a few scraps of it in torn envelopes on the floor 
 of my study. For that matter, you can go and try." 
 And I let my head fall back on my pillow. 
 
 Still, I was anything but easy in my mind. I did 
 not know, at the time, that my poor housekeeper, 
 always full of wise forethought and anxiety in my 
 regard, used to be on the watch for the moment when 
 I had finished my letters on Wednesday and Satur- 
 day. She would then take my correspondence from 
 
12 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 the portfolio, in which I had placed it with my other 
 papers, carry it to the garret, and hide it under the 
 dove-cots. She never gave me a hint of these pre- 
 cautions, because she well knew that measures dic- 
 tated by fear were not to my fancy, and that I would 
 never have been a consenting party to her little strat- 
 agem. I may as well acknowledge, by the way, that 
 this ill-timed courage of mine has often got me into 
 awkward scrapes. The prudent circumspection of 
 this poor woman was infinitely more estimable, for 
 courage does not exclude prudence. But in those 
 days — I was young I 
 
 And now I may as well tell you the name of this 
 admirable woman, — it was Blanchet. She became 
 afterward the object of the respect and affection of 
 my friends and of all who heard me speak of her. 
 She well deserved their sympathy, for she shared my 
 dangers, and was imprisoned three times : in the 
 Convent des Anglaises, Rue Saint- Victor, for eight 
 months, and in the Grande Force and the Madelon- 
 nettes for three. M. de Malesherbes, who was after- 
 ward guillotined for defending the king, used to 
 leave his carriage occasionally behind him on the 
 banks of the Seine, and walk to my lodging in the 
 Rue des Augustins, where I lived after the massacre. 
 Whenever he did not find me at home, he would 
 spend a full hour talking with her. She did not 
 know how to read or write, but M. de Malesherbes 
 said : " She is a woman of wonderful natural intelli- 
 gence and sensibility, and has all the vivacity of her 
 native Provence." She was known to the queen, and 
 was not a stranger to the munificence of Pius VI. 
 
THE ARREST OF THE INTERNUNCIO. 13 
 
 The commissaries of my section, after seeking and 
 not finding, drew up a report. They requested me 
 to rise and sign it. It was about six in the morning. 
 I called their attention to tlie fact that, as I was ill, I 
 could not rise ; but a man whom I recognized as an 
 exwsoldier of the guard attached to the Parliament, 
 said to me : " You had better get up, monsieur ; they 
 are quite capable of compelling you to do so." I im- 
 mediately jumped out of bed, and was dressed in the 
 twinkling of an eye. "I am quite ready to follow 
 you," I exclaimed, " but I refuse to sign your report." 
 These words seemed to embarrass them for a little. 
 I followed them. When I came to the head of the 
 staircase, I perceived a considerable number of armed 
 men about the door. I told the leader that, when I 
 surrendered at discretion, I had no notion I was about 
 to be led along in the middle of such a band, and 
 flatly refused to stir until it was dismissed ; we had 
 an angry dispute on the matter, but at last I gained 
 my point. 
 
 Then I noticed that they were carrying a big chest 
 with them. It contained the archives of the nuncia- 
 ture, which I had been unable to conceal. 
 
 I was immediately brought before the committee 
 of the section, where a fresh report was di'awn up, 
 verifying my appearance before it, and ordering me 
 to be conducted to the Committee of Surveillance 
 of the famous Commune of the 10th of August. I 
 insisted again that I should be allowed to proceed 
 without an escort. But this time I failed, and so I 
 had to march like a criminal between my ruffianly 
 guards, who shouted every minute : "Down with the 
 
14 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON". 
 
 calotin (white-choker) I Take a look at the Pope's 
 minister I " 
 
 We passed through the street which runs along the 
 Seine, then across the Place de Greve, all the time 
 surrounded by the vilest of the rabble. It was now 
 a little after eight o'clock. 
 
 When we reached the Hotel de Ville, I was ushered 
 into a very small apartment, filled with wretches who 
 had scarcely the form of humanity. Tricolor scarfs 
 were passed over the dirty rags that covered their 
 bodies, and they were amusing themselves, with an 
 air of great triumph, by knocking my chest about 
 and handling it so roughly that I expected every 
 moment to see it open of itself. 
 
 My poor Blanchet, bathed in tears, her little son, 
 aged thirteen, and a young man, the only male ser- 
 vant I had at the time, — indeed, these three com- 
 posed my entire household, — had followed me sadly 
 at a distance. 
 
 I had scarcely entered this den of cannibals, when 
 one of them cried: "This is a rascal fit for the 
 guillotine 1 " I answered without emotion : " And 
 this is the language of a people which boasts of being 
 free!" 
 
 After threatening me with all kinds of horrors, 
 they decided to question me on the nature of my 
 correspondence with the Pope. I firmly refused to 
 answer, telling them that they had neither authority 
 nor jurisdiction to try me. Then they ordered me to 
 be led to the police-station of the Mairie;^ it was 
 
 1 To-day the Prefecture de police. 
 
THE ARREST OF THE INTERNUNCIO. 15 
 
 formerly the court of M. Brocard de Saron, ex-Presi- 
 dent of the Parliament, my venerated friend, who 
 had been expelled from it in less than twenty-four 
 hours by the Due de la Rochefoucauld and Pastoret, 
 the one president and the other attorney-general of 
 the department. 
 
 I set forth anew, then, attended by the same 
 body-guard, and was marched as a criminal into 
 that building which I had so often entered as a 
 respected magistrate. 
 
 This time, the chest containing my archives did 
 not form a part of the procession, but remained at 
 the Hotel de Ville. 
 
 I was brought before a little committee composed 
 of five members. Among them I recognized that 
 Marat who was to become so celebrated and so ter- 
 rible, and from whom a fearless young girl, Charlotte 
 Corday, worthy of a better fate, delivered France. 
 This monster, who had received the appointment 
 of veterinary surgeon to the stables of the Comte 
 d'Artois, had, on a certain occasion, been consulted 
 by me as a physician. The wretch already bore in 
 his soul, a soul as hideous as his face, the germ of 
 his future atrocities, for he wrote out a prescription 
 for a medicine that would have surely killed me, if 
 the famous druggist of the Rue Jacob had made it 
 up for me. "Why," he said, "it is pretty evident 
 this medicine cannot be for you. It is horse medi- 
 cine. I recognize the signature of your doctor. He 
 is a madman." Apparently, Marat had looked on 
 me as a subject from the stables he physicked, and 
 good to try an experiment onl 
 
16 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 The scoundrel burst out laughing as soon as he 
 saw me, but did not insult me, as the other ruffians 
 had done. 
 
 It was this same Marat who, on meeting me later 
 on, after the massacre, in the stone gallery ^ of the 
 Palais-Royal, shouted to me: "Take good care of 
 your ears ! " 
 
 1 The other galleries were of wood up to 1829. 
 
THE POUCE OFFICE OF THE MAIRIE. 17 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 THE POLICE OFFICE OF THE MAIRIE. 
 
 The Prison and thb Prisoners. — Thb Abb6 Sicard. — Thb 
 Grand Vicars of Toulousb, Bourgbs, and Strasbocro. — 
 Thb Cur6 of Saint-Jean en Grjeve. — The Abbe Gervais, 
 Secretary to thb Archbishop of Paris. — A " Knight of 
 THE Foniard!" 
 
 I WAS then hurried across the yards next the 
 stable, and forced to enter a sort of garret on the 
 second story. It was an immense apartment, but 
 the ceiling was so low that a man of five feet six 
 inches could hardly stand upright. It was full of 
 prisoners, numbering, as I learned afterward, eighty. 
 They were huddled together on straw. They did not 
 pay much attention to me at first, but were loud in 
 their complaints of the state of the litter, which 
 had not been changed for four days. The light that 
 penetrated into this gloomy abode came from a few 
 narrow windows crossed by iron bars; it was not 
 sufficient to dispel the darkness, which was simply 
 appalling. Truly this was the vestibule of death. 
 
 At first I was stunned by the ghastly nature of 
 my surroundings, and my eyes wandered hither and 
 thither without resting on any particular person, 
 mitil one of the prisoners recognized me and ap- 
 proached. I also recognized him. He had held a 
 
 2 
 
18 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 legal office in the Parliament, and was named Fdron. 
 As he was stretching out his arms to embrace me, 
 he exclaimed, — 
 
 " Can a man such as you are be here ! " 
 
 " My dear friend," I answered, " my presence here 
 is not as strange as that of yourself, for I well know 
 what a thoroughly honest man you are; but the 
 thought that I am in your company gives me some 
 pleasure." 
 
 Directing my attention to a wretched mattress, 
 which I had not observed, he added: "As I am ill, 
 I have obtained this mattress, although with the 
 greatest difficulty. Do me the favor to accept it; 
 otherwise, you will have only a little straw for your 
 bed, and not clean straw either. You can imagine 
 the condition it is in when people have been sleep- 
 ing, spitting, and lying on it for the last four days." 
 
 I was deeply affected by his generosity, for it is 
 my nature to be moved by all unselfish deeds, and I 
 have never forgotten his. Nevertheless, I refused 
 his disinterested offer. I did not care to deprive 
 him of the little comfort — comfort I good Heaven I 
 — he had in his dreary imprisonment; and, shall I 
 confess it? I was afraid of catching his fever, espe- 
 cially as my own had suddenly left me. But when 
 I saw afterward that my refusal gave him great pain, 
 I determined to accept, be the consequences what 
 they might. 
 
 He left me, and went to converse with several 
 other persons, who thereupon came to salute me with 
 the most respectful deference. Among them was 
 the cur^ of Saint-Jean en Gr^ve, a man as vener- 
 
THE POLICE OFFICE OF THE MAIRTE. 19 
 
 able for his virtues as for his years ; he was eighty. 
 Like the Abb^ Godard, grand vicar of the Arch- 
 bishop of Toulouse, he had to keep always in a 
 stooping position, for they were both six feet high. 
 Besides many other well known persons, the Abb^ 
 de Bouzet, grand vicar of Rheims, a grand vicar of 
 Strasbourg, the Abb^ Sicard, and the Abbd Gervais, 
 secretary to the Archbishop of Paris, paid me their 
 respects. 
 
 I was about to thank them, and was congratulat- 
 ing myself on having so many distinguished com- 
 panions in misfortune, when I heard the voice of my 
 poor Blanchet at the door, crying in heart-broken 
 accents: "Monsieur, monsieur, won't you come and 
 speak to me ? " I drew near her. She said : " Here 
 I am, monsieur, what do you want ? what would you 
 have me do ? " She was all in tears. I did not see 
 her, but I heard her sobs. " I would have you keep 
 quiet,** I answered. "I am here among persons of 
 my own rank, and am perfectly satisfied. The fever 
 has left me, and I am quite well. Get my chocolate 
 ready, and bring with it a few peaches and a decan- 
 ter of lemonade." 
 
 In fact, I was as punctual in drinking my cup of 
 chocolate as I was in reading my breviary, — I fear, a 
 little more so, perhaps ; for, I confess to my shame, 
 my occupations made me sometimes forget to recite 
 it fully. In short, the little repast I have mentioned 
 had been a habit with me since childhood. 
 
 I requested her also to tell my servant to bring 
 with him whatever was necessary for my toilet. 
 Without being excessively particular, I have from 
 
20 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 my youth been fond of neatness. I always had my- 
 self shaved and my hair dressed almost as soon as I 
 jumped out of bed. Never was this omitted, even in 
 prison, except when I was placed in solitary confine- 
 ment, under the Directory.^ After the massacre, 
 however, I cut my hair close, and, since then, no one 
 has ever touched my head. 
 
 I also said to Madame Blanchet, " Remember that 
 to-morrow is Thursday, and that I expect a basket to 
 be sent to my lodgings. You will carry it to my 
 friend in the Rue Sainte-Croix de la Bretonnerie. 
 Tell him to open it, eat the contents, and be sure 
 to write a letter of thanks, unless he hits on a more 
 convenient method of expressing his satisfaction." 
 
 My Blanchet might not know how to read and 
 write, but she was as sharp as a razor. A hint from 
 me was always enough for her. She understood me 
 perfectly. These words meant : " Remember that 
 to-morrow is Thursday, and that I expect a courier 
 from Rome. You will carry my despatches to my 
 friend in the Rue Sainte-Croix de la Bretonnerie. 
 Tell him to read them, and be sure to send Guillaume 
 — the private courier placed at my disposal by the 
 Court of Rome — to Italy to inform the Pope and 
 his Secretary of State of my sad position." Every 
 order I gave Blanchet was executed to the letter. 
 
 I added: "Send Lafrance to me." He was my 
 valet. To dress my hair and wait on me when I 
 dined in the city embraced all his duties. He came 
 shortly afterward, but the only order I gave him was 
 to obey Madame Blanchet implicitly. 
 
 1 See Book III 
 
THE POLICE OFFICE OF THE MAIRIE. 21 
 
 When I returned to my companions, I threw my- 
 self on the mattress, for I had been on my legs since 
 two in the morning. Reflecting on what was likely 
 to become of me, I became very melancholy for a 
 time. 
 
 The cur^ of Saint-Jean en GrSve was a saintly 
 man, but very lovable, gay, and even jovial. He 
 made an effort to dispel my sad thoughts and to 
 make me laugh, and sometimes succeeded. Then my 
 companions joined me, one after another, and related 
 their adventures. One of them especially attracted 
 my attention. He was a wonderfully little man, but 
 very handsome and dainty. He had been grand 
 vicar to Cardinal de Rohan. 
 
 However, as I foresaw clearly the misfortunes that 
 were about to overwhelm us, their efforts to amuse 
 me had only very poor success, and, do what I could, 
 I was not able to shake off the profound depression 
 that had taken hold of me. 
 
 The hour for breakfast brought me some relief. 
 Every one ate what he liked, and some took their 
 meals in common. The dishes were in many cases of 
 the choicest kind, and even the pastry left nothing to 
 be desired. 
 
 But, as a foil to all this luxury, I saw a priest in 
 a corner, wretchedly clad and anjrthing but clean, 
 eating a piece of dry bread. 
 
 The reason for this was, because, as we were not in 
 a state prison, we had to furnish our own meals. 
 
 He appeared to be rather ashamed of making such 
 poor cheer. I am always affected by the sight of 
 misfortune, and when that misfortune is undeserved, 
 
22 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 my emotion becomes very painful indeed. But 
 priests inspire me with more compassion than other 
 men, when they fall into misery. Nor is this a tran- 
 sitory feeling. When I visit the country parishes in 
 summer, the spectacle of priests who lack the neces- 
 saries of life excites the same poignant anguish in my 
 soul that it aroused in the days of my youth. 
 
 If I enumerate the things that, perhaps, tell in my 
 favor, it is not from vanity ; for I shall also confess 
 to many acts of mine that you would hardly call 
 creditable. I am determined to be candid in any 
 case. I cannot, however, madame, shake off the ap- 
 prehension that the very sincerity of my efforts to 
 give you a full and accurate narrative of a crisis in 
 my life may be the occasion of my partially losing 
 that esteem in which you have been good enough to 
 hold me, and depriving me of the kind regard you 
 have so quickly conceived for me ; for you will see 
 that I did not ambition martjo-dom, that I made very 
 little preparation for death, and that all my courage 
 consisted in presence of mind and inventing methods 
 of escape. Still, after all, I think God has forgiven 
 me my terrors, since I have been able to be useful to 
 the Pope, at least for a short period, and to do some 
 slight service to the Church. 
 
 I approached the priest, and said, — 
 
 "M. I'Abb^, you have evidently no relatives to 
 look after your wants. Pardon my curiosity, — it 
 springs from a feeling heart ; tell me who you are." 
 
 My presence apparently caused him some embar- 
 rassment; but, quickly recovering his calmness, he 
 replied, — 
 
THE POLICE OFFICE OF THE MAIRIE. 23 
 
 "I was one of the chaplains of the HCtel-Dieu. 
 On my refusal to take the oath, I was expelled 
 from the hospital, with nothing but the clothes 
 I had on. I have been here tliree weeks; I was 
 arrested near the Tuileries, the day after the 10th of 
 August, by persons who called me a rascal and a 
 * Knight of the Poniard.* " 
 
 At these words of the good priest, I confess I 
 could hardly keep from laughing, and I murmured 
 to myself as I contemplated him : " A Knight of the 
 Poniard I '» 
 
 I asked him what province he came from, and if 
 he had any money. He answered that he was from 
 Gascony, and had been paid so poorly at the HCtel- 
 Dieu that all he had about him was a few sous to buy 
 bread. 
 
 "Well,** said I, "you can keep your bread. I 
 think my breakfast will soon be here, for I do not 
 live a great way off, and there will surely be enough 
 for you and me." 
 
 He was so well pleased that ho took my hand 
 and tried to kiss it, sajring, — 
 
 " I know now who you are, and your charitable 
 conduct is enough of itself to tell me that j^ou are 
 the worthy minister of the common Father of the 
 Faithful." 
 
 My own emotion was great, and I pressed his hand 
 affectionately. 
 
 The next moment, a covered basket was brought 
 to me by a turnkey. It was my breakfast, and, 
 among other things, contained an excellent soup cb la 
 Borghese. My poor Blanchet was very clever and 
 
24 MEMOIKS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 skilful in most things, especially in sewing, but, as a 
 xjook, she was hardly a success. When I dined at 
 home then, which occurred very seldom, she used to 
 give me only soup and roast beef. And I found both 
 in the basket, as well as some fine peaches, which she 
 knew I was very fond of. She had added a silver 
 spoon and fork to the provisions. 
 
 I gave the spoon to the abbd, who ate all the soup, 
 and kept the fork for myself. He made such a 
 hearty meal that I sent the turnkey for more bread ; 
 in fact, it was a pleasure to see him eating, — he did it 
 so well. As for myself, I managed to dispose of two 
 mutton cutlets and the wing of a chicken. 
 
 I shared my basket with the abb^ every day. But 
 I had not the opportunity of continuing my hospi- 
 tality long, for we left this infectious and horrible 
 place on the 1st of September, as you will soon learn. 
 
 I have said " infectious,'* and you will find it easy 
 enough to believe me when you know that there were 
 eighty of us packed together in a sort of garret that 
 was quite too small for such a number. The roof 
 was so low that, as I mentioned before, most of us 
 could not stand up ; the air was foul, and we slept, 
 ate, and walked on straw, which was often not changed 
 for several days. The fastidiousness of modern man- 
 ners would revolt at other details, and therefore I feel 
 a certain hesitation in saying, although the truth of 
 history requires me to be somewhat explicit, that we 
 were obliged to satisfy all the needs of nature in a 
 barrel, placed in a corner of this hideous den, which 
 was emptied only every twenty-four hours, and not 
 always then. 
 
THE POLICE OFFICE OF THE MAIRIE. 25 
 
 A tall, fine-looking young man was suffocated by 
 the stench, and did not recover, although he was 
 immediately carried into the yard. 
 
 Such was the spot, then, where we tried to snatch 
 an interval of repose when night came on ; that is to 
 say, we flung ourselves on the straw, but courted 
 sleep in vain. 
 
 The venerable cur^ of SaintJean, who was as gay 
 as a lark and as saintly as an anchorite, did a good 
 deal to keep up our spirits. And here I may remark, 
 in passing, that he was a shining example of God's 
 predilection for the kind of piety that does not ex- 
 clude amiability and cheerfulness ; it is far superior, 
 in His eyes, to the variety that is always pulling long 
 faces and censuring one's neighbor. The good priest 
 related comical stories that made us fairly roar, so 
 that, in spite of the numerous reasons I had to feel 
 melancholy, I laughed till the exercise became really 
 painful. A person hearing but not seeing us might 
 be excused for fancjdng that we were reclining on 
 couches of down and purple. This lasted till one in 
 the morning, and I was obliged to put a stop to it. 
 " Come, come ! M. le Cur^," I said, " we have had 
 enough ; let us try and sleep ! ** He halted in the 
 middle of his last story, and was silent for the re- 
 mainder of the night. But God lost nothing by the 
 mirthfulness of our vivacious comrade, who was up 
 at four, or rather on his knees (for, on account of his 
 height, he could not stand straight) praying to God 
 and reading his breviary, as soon as he had sufficient 
 light for the purpose. 
 
MEMOIRS OF Mgb. SALAMON. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE DECREE OP THE COMMTJ]!^: ON THE FIRST OP 
 SEPTEMBER, 1792. 
 
 Manuel. — The AsBt Godard, Grand Vicar of Toulouse. — 
 Message from the Bishops shut up in the Carmes to the 
 Internuncio. — The AsBfe Simon, Canon of Saint-Quentin, 
 AND Revolutionary Loyalty. — Artfulness and Artless- 
 NES8. — The AsBij Sicard and the Watchmaker Monottb. 
 — How WILL it End? — Where are we Going? 
 
 At length, Manuel, the attorney of the Commune, 
 came to announce to us on Saturday, the 1st of Sep- 
 tember, that day of horrible memory, a decree passed 
 by the municipality, according to the terms of which 
 we were to be transferred that same evening. He 
 did not venture beyond the threshold, as if he had to 
 do with plague-stricken creatures ; and, no doubt, he 
 was afraid of being suffocated by the stench. He 
 added that liis object in coming was to give us notice. 
 He left the decree behind him; it was a printed 
 sheet, about the size of the posters affixed to the 
 city walls. 
 
 The news drove nearly all my companions wild with 
 joy. They thought they were at last to see the end 
 of their misery. Some said: "We are sure to leave 
 this evening ; very likely we shall be deported, and 
 we must collect money for the voyage." Others ex- 
 
THE DECREE OF THE COMMUNE. 27 
 
 claimed : " They will probably send us to the Cannes, 
 and we shall be much better off there." 
 
 But I did not share their confidence. I was lean- 
 ing against one of the loop-holes that supplied the 
 place of windows, and when I heard these words : 
 "You are to be transferred," I gave up all hope. 
 " Why," I said to myself, " that means, in the lan- 
 guage of the law, that we are to be incarcerated in a 
 state prison, for here we are only in a police-station. 
 They are going to lock us up, and the end will be 
 that we shall be tried for a criminal offence." 
 
 I was absorbed in these reflections when the Abbd 
 Godard, a man well versed in ecclesiastical science, 
 but very credulous and somewhat cowardly, went up 
 to where the decree was hanging, and said : " Come 
 here, I am going to read it out aloud." And as he 
 could not stand — for he was over six feet — without 
 knocking his head against the roof, he knelt down. 
 
 I confess I was full of pity for their simplicity j 
 and, as in certain emergencies I find it absolutely im- 
 possible to conceal what I think, I said : " I do not 
 wish to discourage you, but how can you expect 
 mercy from the Commune of the 10th of August ? 
 You will have no chance of getting out of prison." 
 I added : " You are simply going to be transferred 
 from one prison to another ; I know the meaning of 
 judicial terms, and you, too, as men of education, 
 ought surely to be aware that to be * transferred ' 
 does not mean to be released. I believe it would be 
 much more to our advantage if we remained some 
 time longer in this prison, which, notwithstanding all 
 its horrors, is still but a police-station, than to enter 
 
28 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 a state prison, where we shall have to endure the 
 sickness of heart that springs from justice delayed." 
 
 "You are a visionary," answered the Abb^ Godard, 
 " and everything assumes a sable hue in your eyes." 
 And he broke out laughing. 
 
 Manuel, with an affected air of kindness, had told 
 us that we might receive our relatives and friends 
 during the day. 
 
 But, as far as I was concerned, I must acknowledge 
 that I paid little attention to what was passing around 
 me. I was again sunk in a deep revery, and had 
 almost lost all consciousness of my situation, when 
 the jailer entered abruptly and pronounced my name. 
 I recovered my self-possession immediately, and ran 
 to the door, which remained open. There I found a 
 man who was poorly clad and very advanced in years. 
 He saluted me respectfully and inquired whether I 
 was the Abb^ de Salamon, internuncio of the Pope. 
 " Hush ! " I said quickly ; " do not utter those words. 
 What can I do for you, in the sad position in which I 
 am placed ? " 
 
 Still, my appearance was by no means calculated 
 to inspire pity. I had not changed my habits in 
 prison, and continued to act just as I had done in 
 my own chamber after rising ; by this I mean that I 
 was fresh shaved, and had my hair powdered in pre- 
 cisely the same fashion in which it is to-day, except 
 that in those days, alas I I had a good deal more of 
 it. Madame Blanchet had taken care that I should 
 not want for clean linen. Consequently, my external 
 appearance afforded a strong contrast to that of my 
 companions, who were as wretched looking a body 
 
THE DECREE OF THE COMMUNE. 29 
 
 of human beings as can well be imagined, with their 
 stubby, neglected beards, and their skull-caps, wliich 
 they never took off night or day, all covered with 
 down. They resembled those convalescents in the 
 public hospitals who wander listlessly along the cor- 
 ridors, not knowing what to do with themselves. 
 
 ** I am a priest," said this individual ; " but I have 
 not been imprisoned, and I am sent to you by the 
 Archbishop of Aries, the bishops of Saintes and 
 Beauvais,^ and the priests incarcerated in the 
 Cannes. They have learned with the liveliest sor- 
 row that you, the representative of the Pope and so 
 necessary to the welfare of the French Church, are 
 a prisoner. As they are unable to communicate 
 with the Sovereign Pontiff, they have ordered me, 
 should I meet you, to express the profound respect 
 they enteitain for you, and to ask your advice, es- 
 pecially as to the line of conduct to be adopted with 
 regard to the new oath of liberty and equality which 
 has been decreed, and which every one is obliged 
 to take." 
 
 It was, indeed, a lamentable fact that the new 
 legislative assembly had begun its labors with the 
 proclamation of the Republic, and had then decreed 
 the oath of liberty and equality. 
 
 My answer to the worthy priest was as follows: 
 " I am moved to tears by the excessive kindness of 
 the Archbishop of Aries and his illustrious breth- 
 ren." And in this I said nothing but the truth. I 
 was, in fact, penetrated with fear and respect at the 
 spectacle of those great prelates, as eminent for vir- 
 
 1 Mgr. Dulau and the two Rochefoucaulds. 
 
30 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 tue as for knowledge, coming to seek counsel from 
 me, a young priest simply, and a person who, though 
 invested with an exalted dignity, was far from being 
 on a level with these mirrors of the Church. For a 
 few moments I was incapable of uttering a word; 
 but, recovering my presence of mind, I continued: 
 "Convey to them the expression of my humble and 
 fervent veneration and gratitude. But what am I 
 except a mere priest, although honored with the 
 confidence of the Sovereign Pontiff? How could I 
 presume to offer advice to the Archbishop of Aries, 
 that new Chrysostom, or to the Abbd de Rastignac 
 and the Abbd Bonnaud, those distinguished clergy- 
 men who have lately published works on those very 
 subjects of the most luminous and elevated char- 
 acter? It is for them rather to enlighten me on 
 these questions." 
 
 "Monsieur," he answered, "your modesty does 
 you honor, and it will give me great pleasure to 
 make it known to those who have sent me to you. 
 But have the goodness to tell me what you think of 
 the new oath of liberty and equality. I entreat you 
 to do so." 
 
 "I cannot have any idea as to the intentions of 
 the Pope, as this oath is quite recent. But I ven- 
 ture to assert that he will not regard it with favor, 
 and, since you persist in asking my opinion, I have 
 only this to answer : I shall not take the liberty of 
 blaming those who take the oath, but, as for myself, 
 I am fully determined to refuse to do so. Tell 
 those gentlemen we shall go over the matter care- 
 fully when we meet again." 
 
THE DECREE OF THE COMMUNE. 31 
 
 Alas I it was fated that we should never meet in 
 this world! 
 
 While I was in the little ante-room of our prison, 
 a priest named Simon, canon of Saint-Quentin, came 
 in. He was over eighty years old, and wanted to 
 see his brother, who was seventy-five. He was al- 
 lowed to enter; but, when he was about to leave, 
 one of the jailers said to him: "You are a priest; 
 since you have entered the prison you must remain. 
 You will be led before the tribunal with the rest in 
 a few minutes." He was massacred at the Abbaye, 
 and his brother, who was imprisoned before him, 
 escaped. Strange capriciousness of human destiny! 
 or rather, immutable decrees of Divine Providence, 
 before which we must bow in adoration I 
 
 After returning to my prison, I bathed my head 
 with aromatic vinegar. Blanchet had managed to 
 hand me a bottle of it secretly, so that I might have 
 some way of overcoming the foul odors and keeping 
 up my courage. 
 
 My poor, dear Blanchet, whose devotion was al- 
 ways on the watch, and always searching for oppor- 
 tunities of serving me, used to remain in the vestibule 
 of the prison, in order that she might at least hear 
 the sound of my voice, or get a few words from me 
 betimes. She never stirred from her post until night- 
 fall, when the turnkeys hunted her away. 
 
 One morning I heard her weeping bitterly, and 
 said, — 
 
 " What is the matter with you now? " 
 
 "Oh, monsieur," she replied, between her sobs, 
 "I was at the Grand-March^ this morning, looking 
 
S2 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 out for the nicest peaches I could fmd for you ; the 
 agitation in Paris is more frightful than ever, and 
 the execrations of the rabble against the priests are 
 so terrible that I am sure we are on the eve of some 
 great misfortune. And you will not let me do some- 
 thing to get you out of prison I " 
 
 " No," I answered, " don't be discouraged, — I must 
 share the fate of my brave companions. Remember, 
 if anything happens, that all my house contains is 
 yours." 
 
 "Indeed I" she rejoined, with a mixture of tears 
 and indignation, "and what good will what is in 
 your house do me, if I lose you ? " 
 
 Too much affected to continue the conversation, 
 I turned away abruptly. 
 
 When I re-entered the room, I found my com- 
 panions in a state of great excitement. Many were 
 already making up their parcels as if they were about 
 to leave in a few moments. Others were writing 
 letters to their friends and relatives, announcing the 
 good news, and asking money for the voyage, in case 
 they were deported. In fact, I saw two hundred 
 louis handed to the vicar general of Strasbourg, of 
 whom I have already spoken. It was such things as 
 this that gave occasion to the reports spread after the 
 massacre — and I have often heard them myself 
 since — that the priests had their pockets stuffed 
 with gold to pay the Prussians and bring about 
 a counter-revolution I * 
 
 We remained in a state of uncertainty until Satu3>- 
 
 ^ It was alao said in 1870 that the priests had carriages filled with 
 gold, which they were sending to the Prussians ! 
 
THE DECREE OF THE COMMUNE. 33 
 
 day, the Ist of September, 1792. On that day, at 
 eleven in the evening, a member of the Commune of 
 the 10th of August, draped in his tricolor scarf, said 
 to us in a loud voice : " Sixty-three of those who 
 have been longest here will be transferred ; let them 
 come forward until I take down their names." 
 
 Although I was one of the newest arrivals, I 
 hurried forward and presented myself — I really 
 cannot tell why I did so. My name was entered 
 without any question being put to me. It must 
 assuredly have been an inspiration from Heaven ; for 
 if I am now in the land of the living, it is owing 
 to the step taken by me then, as you will soon 
 learn. 
 
 We were ordered to descend, one after the other, 
 to the yard of the Palais. 
 
 Fifteen or eighteen of our companions remained 
 behind us in prison. The most celebrated of them 
 was the Abbd Sicard, the teacher of the deaf and 
 dumb. He was, however, transferred with the rest 
 on the following day at two o'clock, just at the very 
 moment when the massacre began, and when the 
 others were being butchered, without even the pre- 
 tence of an examination, as they were getting out of 
 the carriages. 
 
 The Abb^ Sicard was the only one saved, and 
 owed his escape to a watchmaker of the Rue des 
 Augustins named Monotte, who was a notorious 
 patriot and a great revolutionist, but, in his way, 
 a sort of philanthropist as well. He threw himself 
 in front of the assassins, and, baring his breast, 
 shouted : " Kill me, but spare this man, whose life is 
 
 3 
 
34 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 SO necessary to suffering humanity." The assassins, 
 seeing the abb^ protected by so renowned a patriot, 
 lowered their pikes and sabres, and let him go, 
 slightly wounding him, though, as I have heard, in 
 the ear. Unfortunately, he did not at once avail 
 himself of his liberty, and was soon afterward again 
 incarcerated in one of those little lock-ups, known 
 in the slang of the day as "violons." 
 
 Have the goodness, madame, to excuse this slight 
 digression. I have made it with the object of show- 
 ing you that Divine Providence had already begun 
 to shield me, by inspiring me with the happy thought 
 of writing down my name among those who were 
 to be transferred. If I had remained at the Mairie, 
 I was inevitably doomed to a death of horror. I was 
 sure to be butchered as I alighted from the carriage, 
 with no hope that another Monotte would interpose 
 to save my life. But I return to my subject. 
 
 As I have already stated, we descended to the 
 yard ; we were then hustled into the little carriages 
 that were brought for us, — six into each. 
 
 As I was stepping into mine, I happened to turn 
 my head, and perceived my whole household assem- 
 bled on my right. Blanchet was sobbing as if her 
 heart would break. She called to me to tell her 
 where we were going. I answered, with a rough- 
 ness of which I repented immediately after : " Why 
 do you come to disturb me with your tears and make 
 me lose courage ? How can I tell where they are 
 dragging me ? Follow the carriage, if you like, and 
 you will learn." But all the reply the poor woman 
 made to my harsh words was to seize my hand and 
 
THE DECREE OF THE COMMUNE. 85 
 
 kiss it. I drew it back sharply and entered the 
 carriage. 
 
 The doleful procession began its march. An ob- 
 server might have fancied we were going to execu- 
 tion by torch-light. We were guarded on every side, 
 and had all the appearance of criminals being con* 
 ducted to the scaffold. A dismal silence, as well as 
 a darkness rendered more intense by a sky covered 
 with clouds, gave additional horror to the sort of 
 funeral procession in which we were taking part. 
 
 We passed along the Quai des Orfdvres, across the 
 Pont-Neuf, and through the Rue Dauphine and the 
 Carrefour de Bussy. "Why, they are not driving 
 us to the Cannes I " said some one in my carriage; 
 " we are leaving the street to the left of it, and going 
 in the direction of the Abbaye." In fact, we were 
 passing in front of the tower which is used as a mili- 
 tary prison, and in which my friend. President de 
 Champlatreux, was detained at the time. He escaped 
 the massacre in which so many of us were to be 
 victims, but only to die on the scaffold afterward. 
 We went on further. *' Where are we going? " 
 1 said in my turn. I had hardly spoken, when we 
 entered the Rue Sainte-Marguerite, which leads to 
 the yard of the Benedictines. 
 
 We were escorted, along the whole way, not only 
 by a multitude of armed men, but by crowds of the 
 common people also. However, they kept silence, 
 and seemed to be following us from curiosity merely. 
 
36 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE FIRST NIGHT IN THE ABBAYE. 
 
 Canaille! — The Refectory op the Monks. — The Military 
 Prisoners. — An Unpleasant Bed-Fellow. — The AsBi: 
 ViTALi, Vicar op Saint-Merri. — Madame Blanchet is not 
 Idle. — Torne, Constitutional Archbishop op Bourges, 
 and PiiTiON, Mayor op Paris. — M. Clement de Saint- 
 Palais. — The Ex-Libdtenant-Genebal of the Armies op 
 the Ema. 
 
 We were ushered into a large hall, which was used 
 as a guard-house by the National Guard. The fact 
 that they wore the uniform of the nation did not pre- 
 vent some among them from receiving us with the 
 coarsest insults. Besides, we had no place to sit 
 down, for there were neither chairs nor benches. 
 
 This unfriendly reception, and the idea that I 
 should have to spend the night in such a dreary 
 abode, upset my courage completely. I was seized 
 with a cold perspiration, and my fever returned. I 
 staggered, and had to lean on the shoulder of one of 
 my companions, saying to him ; " And so, this is the 
 place in which we must pass the night ! I am afraid 
 I am going to faint." 
 
 " I cannot be of much service to you," he answered; 
 "we are all equally helpless in the midst of this 
 canaille. The only thing for us to do is to suffer, 
 
THE FIRST NIGHT IN THE ABBAYE. 87 
 
 and not indulge in any womanish lamentations. 
 Lean on me." 
 
 At this moment I saw a man enter who appeared 
 to be giving orders. I approached him and said : 
 
 " Monsieur, shall we have to stay here the whole 
 night?" 
 
 " It looks like it," he answered. " You were not 
 expected; this place was intended for soldiers, and 
 we made no preparations to receive you." 
 
 "For Heaven's sake, monsieur, conduct me to a 
 room where I can sit down. You can see I am in a 
 fever, or, if you cannot, please feel my pulse." 
 
 He paused a moment before replying. Then he 
 said : " Well, I will see what can be done," and went 
 out 
 
 He returned soon after — it was about one o'clock 
 — and told me to follow him. 
 
 I did so, and was led into a very large prison, lit 
 only by a single lamp. The roof was supported by 
 pillars. I learned afterward that I was in what had 
 once been the refectory of the monks. 
 
 There were eighty-three prisoners, all soldiers or 
 gentlemen, arrested on the 10th of August, or the 
 days following it, with one exception. 
 
 This exception was a priest named Vitali, curd of 
 Saint-Merri, a fine-looking man of charming manners. 
 On the next day we had some conversation, and I 
 found we had once known each other. He belonged 
 to my native country, and we were, in fact, taught 
 the rudiments of Latin together ; but I had lost sight 
 of him ever since I was nine years old, having been 
 sent at that period to continue my studies at the 
 
38 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 oratory in Lyons. Indeed, the rest of my life, I may 
 say, has been passed far away from the home of my 
 fathers. I was delighted at this happy meeting, 
 which was not to last very long, however, as you 
 will soon discover. 
 
 All these prisoners were stretched on mattresses 
 lying on the floor. 
 
 You can easily conceive that the noise made by the 
 prison door, opened abruptly without warning, at one 
 in the morning, awoke every one. Each raised his 
 head; some sat up on their wretched beds, to see 
 who was coming at such an hour. Many recognized 
 me at once, and said: "Ah, it is the Abb^ de Sala- 
 mon, ex-Councillor of the Parliament of Paris ! '' 
 And then there was a dispute as to who should offer 
 me a share of his couch. 
 
 But I did not recognize any of them — such a crowd 
 of people in cotton nightcaps were not easily recog- 
 nizable ; and, thanking them from my heart, I said : 
 
 " I think I shall borrow a part of his mattress from 
 the gentleman who is next to me, and who has had 
 the kindness to invite me to do so, although he is not 
 acquainted with me." 
 
 Scarcely were the words out of my mouth, when 
 I perceived that this gentleman was a negro, who 
 was about to be tried for desertion, as I learned 
 subsequently. 
 
 In spite of this discovery, I lay down beside him, 
 without imdressing j after a time, however, the odor 
 became unendurable. I turned on the other side, 
 and tried to sleep ; I succeeded, but the noise made 
 by my companions awoke me before daylight. They 
 
THE FIRST NIGHT IN THE ABBAYE. 89 
 
 were nearly all sitting on their mattresses, chattering 
 away as loud as they could, complaining of the man- 
 ner in which they were treated by the commissaries, 
 who had not put in an appearance for the last three 
 days, and lamenting that they were not allowed to 
 purchase the things absolutely necessary for them in 
 the city. 
 
 I have been in five prisons during the Revolution, — 
 twice in the Mairie, then successively in the Abbaye, 
 the Grande Force, the Grande Police, and the Con- 
 ciergerie, and I have noticed in every case that the 
 prisoners were always inclined to make complaints, 
 and even to revolt.^ 
 
 When the day was a little advanced, the jailer 
 entered and said to me, — 
 
 *' There is a woman yonder who wants to speak to 
 you, but you cannot see her; you may go to the 
 door." 
 
 Of course, you have guessed it waa poor Blanchet, 
 come to take my orders. 
 
 Then, reflecting that our imprisonment might be 
 long and even dangerous, I began, for the first time, 
 to think seriously of my situation, and to consider 
 what was the best means of recovering my liberty. 
 
 " Go and see M. Tomd," I said to her. 
 
 The Abb^ Torn^ was an ex-preacher of the king ; 
 he was now a constitutional bishop, and a member of 
 the Legislative Assembly, — a very bad man, a furious 
 revolutionist, and, what is worse, an immoral priest. 
 Before I became acquainted with him, I had rendered 
 
 1 Mgr. Salamon must have been easily satisfied if he did not feel 
 inclined to complain himself of the prisons he describes. 
 
40 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 him certain services. He owed his success in gaining 
 a suit at Rome, in reference to a benefice, to my inter- 
 vention ; he was not the more grateful to the Pope 
 on account of that, however. 
 
 " Tell him," I added, " that I am in prison, and 
 that I depend on him to have me released." 
 
 I ordered her to take a carriage, as the jailer had 
 said : " The old woman who wants to see you seems 
 to be quite fatigued and exhausted." 
 
 I learned afterward that, during the five days that 
 elapsed since my arrest on Wednesday, she had never 
 eaten a morsel, and had had nothing to keep up her 
 strength, during her many wearisome journeys, but a 
 bottle of Martinique, which she found in my cellar. 
 She remained most of the time at the door of the 
 prison, except when she went to market to buy me 
 the finest peaches she could find, and a fat chicken, 
 and to busy herself with the preparation of my simple 
 repast. 
 
 Blanchet obeyed, and returned after two hours. 
 She informed me that Torn^, who, doubtless, was no 
 stranger to what was about to occur, appeared thun- 
 derstruck on hearing that I was in prison. " Is your 
 carriage still outside ? " he asked. " Let us go to 
 Potion — " And he muttered, as he was descending : 
 " He must be saved I " 
 
 They started at once for the mayor's residence. 
 Torn^ was an intimate friend of Potion, who was a 
 horrible man, but so much worshipped by the popu- 
 lace of Paris that they used to carry slips of paper 
 in their hats, bearing these words in large letters : 
 " Potion or death ! " 
 
THE FIRST NIGHT IN THE ABBAYE. 41 
 
 The efforts of Tomd to see Potion were unavailing. 
 All he could obtain from the mayor was a note, which 
 was sent out to him and brought to me by Madame 
 Blanche t, containing those words: "The person in 
 whom you are interested will be liberated at three 
 o'clock." 
 
 What cool perfidy I It was Sunday, the 2d of 
 September, and the massacres were to begin at two ! 
 Yes, indeed, it was very possible I might be liberated, 
 but liberated to be assassinated. Not being in the 
 secret of the horrors that were preparing, I felt elated 
 by the note, and endeavored to calm the excitement 
 of Blanchet, for the poor woman also believed that 
 the cause was won, and was beside herself with joy. 
 ** Come, come, Blanchet," I said, " all is turning out 
 well. I insist on you going and taking some rest. 
 1 have need of nothing at present." 
 
 I left her and walked into the centre of the hall, 
 to get a good look at my fellow-prisoners. 
 
 The Abb^ Vitali, as I mentioned before, was a fine- 
 looking man, with the most amiable expression of 
 countenance imaginable. He came up and made 
 known to me the pleasure he felt in my society. He 
 begged me to accept a cup of cafe a la crhne, which 
 I did, on seeing that my refusal to do so at first gave 
 him pain. 
 
 This prison, as I have said already, contained sol- 
 diers of all ranks, and he was the only ecclesiastic 
 among them. 
 
 However, I recognized also an ex-magistrate of the 
 Cour des Comptes, M. Cldment de Saint-Palais, after- 
 wards one of the commandants of the National Guard. 
 
42 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOjST. 
 
 But I refused to address a single word to him, for I 
 regarded him as a deserter of the good cause. 
 
 A very old soldier, once lieutenant-general of the 
 armies of the king, on hearing my name, approached, 
 and, saluting me with great politeness and respect, 
 said, — 
 
 "You are an ex-Councillor of the Parliament. 
 Would you be so kind as to tell me how I ought 
 to answer the questions that will be put to me when 
 I am brought to trial ? " 
 
 " But why are you here ? " I asked. 
 
 "I was arrested at the Tuileries on the 10th of 
 August." 
 
 "Well, then, you must say quite the contrary.^ 
 You must answer that, being an old man, almost an 
 octogenarian, you were in the habit of taking a walk 
 in the Champs-Elysdes almost every day; that you 
 had gone there on the 10th of August, according to 
 your usual custom, being utterly ignorant of what 
 was occurring in the Chateau, and that a patrol 
 arrested you, while innocently strolling around." 
 
 Just when I had finished my little discourse, the 
 man who had conducted me to this prison during the 
 night, entered and said, — 
 
 " Come along with me." 
 
 " Please, monsieur," 1 replied, " let me stay here ; 
 I have met a priest whom I knew in childhood, be- 
 sides some other acquaintances, and I feel quite com- 
 fortable where I am." 
 
 Alas! I was unconsiously resisting that Divine 
 Providence that had for twenty years been leading 
 
 ^ Mgr. Salamon was eyidentlj something of a casuist. 
 
THE FIRST NIGHT IN THE ABBAYE. 43 
 
 me as it were by the hand ; I was rushing to de- 
 struction! I was fated to leam, on that very day 
 even, that all those worthy men, with whom I did 
 my best to remain, had been butchered between three 
 and six in the evening, and my poor vicar of Saint- 
 Mem among them, in spite of his youth. 
 
 But the man would take no refusal, and I followed 
 him, after thanking everybody, and particularly my 
 negro, to whom I gave an assignat of five francs, 
 called a corset. I had to borrow it from my vener- 
 able military friend, for I had not a sou at the time 
 in my pocket. 
 
44 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SUNDAY IN PRISON. 
 
 The Intbrnuncio joins his Companions again. — The Last 
 Repast. — A Monster. 
 
 We passed across a large yard in silence, and then 
 I was shown into a very dark hall. It had been used 
 as a chapel by a guild of artisans during the times 
 when these corporations existed. Such chapels were 
 quite common formerly in religious houses, especially 
 in those of the Jesuits. I was agreeably surprised to 
 find all my companions, whom I had left in the 
 guard-house, assembled here. They seemed to be 
 very glad at seeing me, and told me how grieved 
 they were on account of my absence. 
 
 After we had exchanged many polite and friendly 
 questions, 1 turned my attention to the place in 
 which I now found myself. 
 
 It was a vast apartment, and had evidently not 
 been inhabited for a long time. It was lighted by a 
 large stained-glass window, like those you see in 
 churches, broken in a hundred places, soiled with 
 dust and rain, and covered with cobwebs. 
 
 There were neither beds, chairs, nor tables. The 
 furniture consisted of one small bench with a very 
 high back, capable of accommodating twelve or fif- 
 teen people at the most. It was what the Italians 
 
SUNDAY IN PRISON. 45 
 
 call an archibanco. As for the floor, it was hidden by 
 two or three inches of dirt. 
 
 The careful examination I made of this prison led 
 me to the conclusion that we should not have to re- 
 main in it very long, and I said : " Clearly, it is the 
 intention of our persecutors to send us to other quar- 
 ters soon. You see there is no bed, no chair, and no 
 straw here. In the mean time, a little cleanliness 
 would do no harm. Let us ask for a couple of 
 brooms and some water, and so get rid of all this 
 filth on which we have to walk." Every one was 
 pleased with the idea. The jailer was appealed to. 
 We persuaded him to buy us the brooms, and, in a 
 short time, the room assumed an appearance of some 
 little neatness. 
 
 But it was now the 2d of September, a day that 
 will ever remain horrible and shameful in the annals 
 of France. It was Sunday, — I confess I did not think 
 of it; but a good old priest — a far holier man than 
 I can ever be — the curd of Saint-Jean en Gr^ve, 
 thought of it for me. When we had finished sweep- 
 ing, he said, — 
 
 " Gentlemen, to-day is Sunday ; it is quite certain 
 we shall not be allowed to say mass or to hear it ; let 
 us then kneel down, and, uniting our thoughts with 
 those who are now celebrating the Holy Sacrifice, let 
 us raise our hearts to God." 
 
 All applauded the proposal, and knelt down at once 
 to pray. 
 
 We had, however, some laymen amongst us, — the 
 first president of the Superior Council of Corsica, an 
 advocate of the Parliament of Paris, a peruquier, of 
 
46 MEMOIRS OF Mgb. SALAMOK 
 
 whom I shall have something to say later on, a servant 
 of the Due de Penthidvre, and five or six soldiers who 
 had deserted. In short, there were sixty-three of us 
 all together. 
 
 After finishing our devotions, we began to prome- 
 nade up and down or across the hall, in twos or in 
 little bands. We discussed our situation, our proba- 
 ble fate, and the privations of all sorts we were com- 
 pelled to endure, having no chair to sit on, and 
 nothing to lean against when we were tired standing 
 or walking. My companions had passed the whole 
 night on their feet or stretched on the floor. As for 
 myself, I had been but little better off, lying along- 
 side my negro. 
 
 After a time, the jailer entered and said, — 
 
 " After to-day, it will be the duty of the nation to 
 support you ; but you were not expected, and there m 
 nothing ready, so you must provide your own food. 
 I have brought a caterer with me, who is at the door ; 
 you had better see him." 
 
 The Abbd Godard and I, as we were less excited 
 than the others, went to the caterer, and said : 
 
 " Have dinner for sixty-three ready in about two 
 hours at forty sous a head. We will be responsible 
 for those who cannot pay." 
 
 Besides the deserters, who were a wretched-looking 
 lot, there were two or three priests quite as badly off, 
 and, as we were altogether uncertain what was going 
 to become of us, it was not a time to show ourselves^ 
 uncharitable. 
 
 For that matter, I must say that I have always 
 remarked the greatest union and generosity among 
 
SUNDAY m PRISON. 47 
 
 the prisoners in the several prisons I have passed 
 through. Those who had, alwa3r8 shared with those 
 who had not. 
 
 The time that elapsed before dinner was spent 
 in walking, accompanied, I am bound to say, by a 
 great deal of noise and disorder. All spoke at the 
 same time, and it was impossible to hear what any 
 one was saying. I soon left them, and betook myself 
 to a corner of the little high-backed bench, from 
 whence I examined, not very attentively I confess, 
 what was taking place around me. I remember very 
 well that my thoughts often wandered, and were 
 very sad. 
 
 Meanwhile, the caterer brought long, narrow tables 
 into the hall, as well as benches to sit on, and served 
 dinner at two in the afternoon. I noticed that he had 
 provided some excellent boiled fowl; but I did not 
 take my seat, for, just as I was about to do so, my 
 peerless Blanchet, who never forgot anything, was at 
 the door, and ^vith her, a closely-covered basket con- 
 taining a capital repast : soup d la Borghhe without 
 bread, radishes, a very tender cut of boiled beef, a 
 plump chicken, artichokes au poivre (which is a dish 
 to which I am exceedingly partial), and the loveliest 
 peaches imaginable. In addition to all this, was a 
 bottle of wine, as well as a silver fork and spoon. 
 
 As the mere sound of my voice was a delight to 
 my faithful old servant, I went to the door and 
 shouted, — 
 
 " Blanchet, I am perfectly comfortable. Your din- 
 ner is splendid. I am going to dine now, and, if 
 you don't do the same, I shall be angry." 
 
48 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 " I will dine after three," she answered, " when 
 M. Potion lets you out. As it is, I could not swallow 
 a morsel. For, besides the anxiety I am in on your 
 account, I have observed that the excitement in the 
 streets through which I have just passed is more 
 terrible than ever." 
 
 " Well, how can I help it ? " I said ; " you must not 
 let yourself be cast down by such a little thing as 
 that." 
 
 I was far from suspecting that she had been look- 
 ing on at the preparations for the massacres. 
 
 I left her, and said to my companions, — 
 
 " I regret I cannot join you. An old servant, full 
 of solicitude for my comfort, has brought me my din- 
 ner, although I have never thought of asking or 
 ordering her to do so. But I shall pay for my dinner 
 like the rest, in order that the caterer may have no 
 cause of complaint." 
 
 Thereupon, all took their seats at table very 
 joyously. 
 
 As for myself, I sat on my little bench and set 
 about examining the contents of my basket. I also 
 called the poor priest of the H8tel-Dieu, and said: 
 "I have enough to eat for two. Do you take the 
 soup, which I have great pleasure in offering to you ; 
 here is the spoon, I can manage with the fork." 
 
 I ate a slice of beef, the wing of a chicken, some 
 radishes, an artichoke, and two peaches. All the 
 rest, except the peaches, which I kept for myself, I 
 gave to the poor priest, whom I had, in a certain 
 sense, adopted. The excellent man ate up the whole, 
 and drank my bottle of fine red wine as well. Very 
 
SUNDAY IN PRISON. 49 
 
 likely the poor fellow had not breakfasted. It did 
 me good to watch him. 
 
 We had amongst us a former servant of the Duo 
 de Penthi^vre. He still wore on the sleeves of his 
 coat the gold lace of his livery. He was an excel- 
 lent man. I often relieved the tedium of my impris- 
 onment by conversing with him. He had conceived 
 a warm affection for me, and was always ready to 
 do me every service in his power. His brother-in- 
 law had just sent him a melon, and a very prime 
 one it was. When he saw I did not come to table, 
 he brought me the half of it, and I had all the trouble 
 in tlie world to persuade him that a slice was enough, 
 
 I went then to the Abb^ Godard. "It seems to 
 me," I said, "that you have a rather good dinner 
 there for forty sous a head." And I added : " You 
 mustn't ask anything from that poor abbd yonder. 
 I have invited him to share with me, and he cer- 
 tainly hasn't a sou about him. His self-respect 
 may be wounded if he has to confess that he can- 
 not pay." 
 
 The Abb^ Godard replied, — 
 
 " You may be easy ; we '11 ask nothing of him." 
 
 These gentlemen remained a long time at dinner, 
 laughed and joked, and made quite a noise. Every 
 one of them had a good appetite, — and showed it. 
 As for me, I retired to my corner, and, as I contem- 
 plated them, I could not help murmuring: "Great 
 heavens ! how gay they are ! " 
 
 Scarcely had I given utterance to this reflection, 
 when the bolts were shoved back with a loud harsh 
 report, and the jailer flung the door open, — 
 
 4 
 
60 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 "Make haste!" he cried; "the people are march- 
 ing on the prisons, and have already begun massa- 
 cring the prisoners I" 
 
 It was then half-past two. 
 
 You can easily conceive our stupefaction at the 
 appalling news. Every one hurriedly left the table 
 without finishing his dinner; and the Abb^ Godard 
 made a hasty collection to defray the expense of 
 the half-eaten meal. There was no attempt at count- 
 ing. Each put into the abbd's hat what he liked; 
 there was even a surplus of fifteen francs, and this 
 we gave as a gratuity to the jailer, hoping thereby 
 to gain his good-will. 
 
 Now, this man was a monster, as the event proved. 
 
 As soon as the tables were all carried out — I 
 should mention that one small one was left behind, 
 whether through forgetf ulness or treachery -^ you will 
 have an opportunity of guessing — the jailer followed 
 them, shoved his horrible bolts to, and left us to 
 ourselves. 
 
 1 There is nothing in the pages following to explain this remark. 
 — Tb. 
 
PREPARING FOR DEATH. 61 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 PREPAEINQ FOR DEATH. 
 
 HOUBS THAT SEEM CENTURIES. — ThE CrIME OF THE PARLIA- 
 MENT'S Advocate. — The Shop-woman of the Place Mau- 
 
 BERT AND THE TOUNO MiNIM MONKS. — ThE LaST ABSOLUTION. 
 
 — The Pbruquier of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine : "I am 
 
 AN HONEST MAN, AND THAT IS MY SOLE CrIME ! " — OPTIMIS- 
 TIC AsBi GoDARD. — Oh, that Rascal of a Jailer! 
 
 We were in a dreadful state of agitation. Some 
 cried, "What is going to become of us?" others, 
 " Must we then die ! " Many ran to the door to look 
 through the hole in the lock, although there was no 
 hole there, for the locks of prisons are only opened 
 from the outside; while some stood on tiptoe, as if 
 they could see through windows fourteen feet from 
 the floor. Others walked this way and that, without 
 knowing where they were going, and, in some cases, 
 hurt themselves severely by running against the 
 bench and the only table left in the room. 
 
 For myself, I remained seated in my comer, intent 
 on all I saw, and counting the strokes of the clock, 
 which struck twelve times every quarter of an hour. 
 
 I was impatient for nightfall, for I thought, when 
 it came, the massacres would stop. Poor simpleton 
 
52 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 that I was ! Little did I know yet of the fmy and 
 wickedness of our assassins ! 
 
 Sometimes I shouted to my companions to keep 
 silence; I feared the great noise we were making 
 might attract the attention of people outside, and 
 hasten our destruction. 
 
 The cries of the mob began to reach us. It was 
 like a low, mighty murmur heard at a distance. 
 
 Now and then, the noise made by my companions 
 ceased in consequence of my appeals for silence ; but 
 they soon resumed their wild, unreasoning tramping 
 up and down the hall. 
 
 I got up and flung myself among them, in the hope 
 that my presence might, some way or other, restrain 
 them. 
 
 I approached that poor advocate of the Parliament, 
 who had given me his mattress with such hearty 
 good-will at the Mairie. He was the most timorous 
 of men. He was trembling in every limb, as if he had 
 a fever, and perhaps he had one, for all I know. 
 
 "Try and calm yourself, my dear comrade," I said; 
 " you are not a priest, you will probably be spared. 
 But, by the way, how is it that you have got into 
 prison ? " 
 
 " For concealing a non-juring priest in my house, a 
 man whom I had known for forty years." 
 
 " Still, you must not lose your head and get dis- 
 couraged," I returned. " I only wish I was in your 
 place. You just tell them you are the father of a 
 family and have five children, that you are not of 
 noble birth, and that you are ignorant why you have 
 been incarcerated." 
 
PREPARING FOR DEATH. 63 
 
 Alas ! it waa written in the book of this man's des- 
 tiny that he was to die I He was slaughtered about 
 two in the morning. He had lost his head, as I 
 feared, and the story he told his murderei-s was the 
 very reverse of the one I had invented for him. 
 
 I next accosted two young monks belonging to the 
 order of Minims : the one was a deacon and the other 
 a subdeacon. The younger had the face of an angel. 
 They saluted me with the deepest respect. 
 
 " Why, how comes it," I asked, " that mere boys 
 like you have attracted the attention of those who 
 have put you in prison ? " 
 
 *' We were hidden," replied the elder of the pair, 
 *' in the house of a shop-woman in the Place Maubeit. 
 She was a pious woman, and not too well liked by 
 her neighbors ; they found we were staying with her, 
 and denounced her. She was imprisoned in La Force 
 and we in the Mairie." 
 
 " What a calamity for you ! " 
 
 *' Oh, no, indeed ! " exclaimed the younger. *' I do 
 not look on it as a misfortune, monsieur, to die for 
 my religion. I am afraid, on the contrary, they will 
 not let me die, because I am only a subdeacon." 
 
 I was melted to tears on hearing those words, — 
 words worthy of the early martyrs of the church. I 
 must even confess that they made me blush, and I 
 was ashamed at witnessing such noble sentiments in 
 so young a man, while I was anything but disposed 
 to entertain similar thoughts. My astonishment pre- 
 vented me from replying for a moment. But I re- 
 covered from my emotion and said to him : " Thank 
 God ! if you are not a priest, you are not intended to 
 
64 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 be a martjrr. But you wish to be one, and that is 
 quite as praiseworthy in the sight of God. Perhaps 
 He reserves you to do great things in His service." 
 
 At this moment, I was interrupted by the jailer, 
 who rushed in to tell us that the people were furious ; 
 a frightful massacre was going on in the yard next 
 the street ; all in the prison where M. TAbb^ had slept 
 — and he looked hard at me as he said these words — 
 had been butchered, and not a single one had escaped. 
 
 It was then five in the evening. 
 
 This unexpected intelligence sent a shudder through 
 every one of my veins. When I became a little com- 
 posed, I returned thanks to God, who, in spite of my- 
 self, had rescued me from that prison. 
 
 We were all in a state of consternation. We turned 
 by a sort of inspiration to the cur^ of Saint-Jean en 
 Grfeve, that venerable old man of eighty, who en- 
 joyed a great reputation for sanctity, and begged for 
 absolution in articulo mortis. This holy priest, who 
 maintained all the calmness of a stainless soul, an- 
 swered that the danger did not yet seem sufficiently 
 imminent, and we ought to prepare for death in a 
 manner more conformable to the spirit of the Church. 
 He added that there were several priests among 
 us with faculties to hear confession, and we should 
 prepare for every eventuality by a good confession. 
 
 What are you going to think, madam e, of my ap- 
 parent coldness and indifference? To please you, 
 I am perhaps risking the loss of your good opinion ; 
 but I have promised, in all sincerity, to give you a 
 full account of this awful period of my life. I must 
 not, then, forget any incident in it, or attempt to 
 
PREPARING FOR DEATH. 55 
 
 make myself out better than I am. I desire to set 
 before your eyes my weaknesses as well as my 
 courage, and to confess to you that, in this supreme 
 moment, my eyes were riveted on this world rather 
 than on the next. 
 
 Instead of confessing, I went and sat down me- 
 chanically in my accustomed place, which seemed to 
 have been given up to me by tacit consent, for I 
 always found it unoccupied. And there, with my 
 face in my two hands, I looked on at what was pass- 
 ing around me through my fingers, without being 
 able to analyse my own impressions. 
 
 I saw several priests still sitting on the bench 
 beside the table which had been left behind after 
 dinner, and others on their knees, beginning their 
 confessions. I continued in this posture for over an 
 hour without stirring. My eyelids closed, and I 
 remember I had the greatest difficulty to keep from 
 falling asleep. Then I said the Pater and Ave^ my 
 favorite prayers, from time to time. I have been so 
 much in the habit of reciting them that I often feel 
 myself unconsciously repeating them in my walks. 
 I also counted anxiously the strokes of the clock. 
 
 " Ah ! " I murmured at length, " it is seven ; it 
 will soon be night, and the ruffians will go away ! " 
 
 At this moment, the thought came to me that I 
 was not acting like the others. I rose suddenly and 
 threw myself at the feet of the curd of Saint-Jean en 
 Gr^ve, who was not then hearing anybody's confes- 
 sion. As he was an exceedingly tall man, he knelt 
 down in order to listen to me. 
 
 My sad confession was interrupted by that horrible 
 
5Q MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 jailer, who took a pleasure in bringing us false tid- 
 ings, and who cried, in his coarse voice, — 
 
 " The people are in a greater rage than ever ; there 
 are more than two thousand of them now in the 
 Abbaye." 
 
 And, in fact, the howls and roars of the mob, 
 which as yet had only reached us indistinctly, were 
 now more audible and menacing. 
 
 The jailer added : — 
 
 " I have just learned for certain that all the priests 
 in the Carmes have been massacred." 
 
 "We were afterward informed that some of them 
 had escaped by climbing the walls that separate the 
 Carmes from the neighboring gardens. You will 
 remember that I called your attention to these walls 
 the time we visited the Carmes together. 
 
 No sooner did we hear this agonizing intelligence, 
 than all my companions, priests and laymen, fell 
 on their knees before the cur^ of Saint-Jean, and 
 begged him, with every sign of compunction and re- 
 pentance, to give them absolution in articulo mortis. 
 This holy man, who had been kneeling beside me, 
 then rose up with impressive solemnity. His tall 
 figure lent additional dignity to his attitude, and 
 everjrthing in him betrayed the messenger of God. 
 After praying silently for a few minutes, he exhorted 
 us to recite the confitcor^ and to make acts of faith, 
 hope, and charity. This every one did with much 
 devotion, and then he gave us the absolution in ar- 
 ticulo mortis^ which we all had so ardently desired. 
 He next turned to me and said : " I am myself a 
 great sinner. It did not belong to me to absolve 
 
PREPARING FOR DEATH. 67 
 
 those present, but to you, monsieur, who are the 
 minister of our Divine Saviour's Vicar on earth, and 
 now I beg you to give me the absolution I have 
 given to you." 
 
 I confess I was overwhelmed with confusion at 
 these words, and I had some difficulty in recollecting 
 the formula which I had to pronounce. Then I 
 arose and blessed the old man rather than absolved 
 him. 
 
 Meanwhile, all had remained on their knees. The 
 cur^ said: — 
 
 "We can regard ourselves as persons in the last 
 agony, but yet in full possession of our reason, and 
 perfectly conscious of what we are doing ; we ought, 
 therefore, to omit nothing that may obtain for us the 
 mercy of God. I am about to recite the prayers for 
 those in the last agony ; unite in them with me, so 
 that God may pity us." 
 
 He began the usual litanies, to which we responded 
 with fervor. The tone in which the saintly priest 
 uttered the first orison, commencing with these words : 
 " Depart from this world, Christian souls, in the name 
 of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost," etc., melted 
 almost the whole of us into tears. 
 
 Some of the laymen, however, complained, in a 
 loud voice, of dying so young, and others invoked 
 maledictions on our assassins. The good cur^ in- 
 terrupted them, representing that we must forgive 
 if we would be forgiven, and that God, in that case, 
 would be pleased with our submission to His will, 
 and would receive us into His salvation. 
 
 This act of our holy religion being accomplished. 
 
58 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOX. 
 
 we went back to our own places in the hall. And, 
 indeed, we were truly like men in the last agony, 
 like creatures who have had every spring in their 
 mechanism broken by a long and wasting disease. 
 It was a lamentable spectacle ! The floor was inun- 
 dated: sixty-three of us in this apartment ever 
 since eight in the morning, and none allowed out- 
 side to satisfy the needs of nature. Consequently, 
 the stench diffused around us was appalling. 
 
 Night came on. We were left without taper or 
 candle. Fortunately, a bright moon arose resplen- 
 dent in the heavens, and lit up the darkness that 
 enveloped us. But I had to acknowledge my self- 
 deception in imagining that night would put a stop 
 to the massacres. They were continuing, and the 
 shrieks of the victims and the howls of their assas- 
 sins were growing more distinct in the silence of 
 the night. Then the striking of the clock produced 
 in me a revulsion of feeling, and the sounds which, 
 a few hours ago, gave me pleasure and hope, now 
 foiled me with dismay and despair. 
 
 At this moment a young man accosted me. He 
 was a perruquier. He raised his hat and said, — 
 
 " I have not the honor of knowing you, but I have 
 been so much impressed with the courage you have 
 shown since the morning, that something or other 
 tells me you are not likely to die. I have come, 
 therefore, to ask you to do me a little service, when 
 you leave prison." 
 
 " You are mistaken," I answered ; " I am a priest, 
 and in far more danger than any one else." 
 
 "In any case, monsieur, do me the favor to give 
 
PREPARING FOR DEATH. 69 
 
 this letter to my wife. As for myself," he added, 
 weeping, "I know the persons who have sent me 
 here ; they are among the assassins, and waiting for 
 my death. I live at No. 22 Rue des Amandiers in 
 the Fauhourg Saint-Antoine. I am an honest man, 
 and that is my sole crime." 
 
 " If it does you any pleasure for me to take charge 
 of your letter, I shall be happy to do so, and, if your 
 prediction turn out correct, I ^vill carry it to her as 
 soon as I possibly can, after leaving prison." 
 
 The letter was not sealed, and I read it. It was 
 instinct with all the tenderness and delicate sympa- 
 thy a husband should experience for his wife. It 
 was full of the wisest advice, and gave her special 
 instructions as to the manner in which he wished his 
 son to be brought up, whom, by the way, he did not 
 want to belong to his own trade, that of a perruquier. 
 
 This unhappy man was massacred, as he had fore- 
 seen, and I executed the commission intrusted to me. 
 I earned the letter to his wife, whom I found to be a 
 very charming young woman. She was dressed in 
 mourning when I saw her. She had been informed 
 of the death of her husband before my visit, as I was 
 imable to go near her for a fortnight after I left 
 prison. She seemed profoundly affected, questioned 
 me at length, and repeatedly kissed her husband's 
 letter. 
 
 The jailer made his appearance again about ten at 
 night, with two boys, who brought several baskets of 
 wine. He said, — 
 
 "M. Potion, mayor of Paris, will be here shortly 
 with a battalion of the National Guard; he will ex- 
 
60 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 amine you in person, and those who are not guilty- 
 will not be put to death. I have a few bottles of 
 wine here, which will refresh you, and also some 
 candles. We forgot to leave you any until now." 
 
 These tidings revived the courage of my compan- 
 ions at once. They questioned this cruel man, whose 
 every answer was a falsehood, as he was arranging 
 the bottles on the table. Their faces shone with joy. 
 They were no longer the men who, a moment before, 
 beat their breasts with compunction, prostrated them- 
 selves on the floor, and besought God's mercy. A 
 melancholy example of the dying sinner who recovers 
 unexpectedly! They surrounded the table, and be- 
 gan drinking their wine and eating their crusts of 
 bread, as if nothing had happened. 
 
 But I was far from being a party to such self- 
 deception, and I said to the Abb^ Godard, from 
 whom a little self-restraint might have been ex- 
 pected : — 
 
 " Why, how can you, abb^, on the mere word of 
 that man, who wants only to sell his wine and get 
 paid for it, become all at once so elated? I do not 
 envy you whatever pleasure you may derive from 
 drinking it, but surely this fellow is not speaking the 
 truth. He was always telling us we were on the 
 point of being murdered before ; what value can you 
 attach to the hopeful words he brings us now ? " 
 
 " You are a very queer man," retorted the Abb^ 
 Godard ; " you see assassins and executioners every- 
 where. What the jailer has told us is very probable." 
 
 I did not answer, and turned my back on him. 
 
 Recollecting that I had left a few peaches on the 
 
PREPARING FOR DEATH. 61 
 
 comer of the bench, where I had sat almost the whole 
 day, I went thither, picked them up, and ate them. 
 While I was thus engaged, my eyes fell on the case 
 containing my silver knife and fork. I put it in my 
 pocket, saying, — 
 
 " If they kill me, they '11 find it on me, and if I 
 escape I shall not have to return here in search of it." 
 
 You will be astonished, madame, to learn that, the 
 very moment after I had been exhorting the others to 
 banish all thoughta of drinking and amusement, and 
 to prepare for death, I should so far forget my mel- 
 ancholy position as to fall to eating my two peaches, 
 instead of awaiting prayerfully the fate reserved for 
 me. The only explanation I can give of my conduct 
 at the time is, that it was a singular result of the 
 levity and inconsistency of the human mind. 
 
 When the jailer understood that his wine was 
 being drunk, he returned to take his bottles and col- 
 lect his money. Then he added, — 
 
 " M. Potion was not able to wait, so you will not be 
 examined until to-morrow ; but he has left some of 
 the National Guard for your protection." 
 
 Every word of this was a lie. M. Pdtion had never 
 stirred from the Hotel de Ville for the last three 
 days,^ and never came near us, and the National 
 Guard was as actively engaged in the work of assas- 
 sination as the populace. 
 
 However, the tidings brought by this atrocious 
 scoundrel were sufficient to dispel all the calmness of 
 
 1 There seems to be some discrepancy between what the author says 
 here and his narrative of the visit of Madame Blauchet and Tome to 
 Petion's residence on page 41. — Te. 
 
62 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 my poor companions, and they renewed their lamen- 
 tations and disorderly promenading. After looking 
 on at their fantastic capers for a while, I joined the 
 curd of Saint-Jean en Grfeve, who was walking by 
 himself, prajdng and meditating with undisturbed 
 serenity, as far as I could see. 
 
 " You perceive, M. le Curd," I said, " that this jailer 
 of ours is a rascal. Was I not right in asking our 
 companions not to drink his wine ? " 
 
 "Alas! monsieur," he returned, "you were right 
 enough, — but you have yet all the fire of youth un- 
 tempered by experience. If you ever reach my age, 
 you will also learn to be pitiful and indulgent to 
 human weakness." 
 
 At the same instant, the low, continuous rumble 
 that came to us from outside increased in volume, and 
 appeared to be even nearer. I entreated my com- 
 panions to listen to me. They all immediately ad- 
 vanced to the place where I was standing. I said to 
 them : — 
 
 "You make so much noise that you are very- 
 likely to attract the attention of the mob. We have 
 been here only since morning. This hall has never 
 been used as a prison before, and it is quite possible 
 the populace are unaware of any prisoners being 
 here." 
 
 Little did I suspect that the jailer was a monster, 
 and was himself coming at the head of a band of 
 assassins to point out to them their victims. 
 
 " You ought, therefore," I added, " to keep as quiet 
 as you possibly can, so that, should the murderers 
 happen to approach in this direction, they may, on 
 
PREPARING FOR DEATH. 68 
 
 hearing no sound and seeing no light, pass on fur- 
 ther. Let no one, then, stir from the spot on which 
 he stands, and let us all await our fate resignedly." 
 
 They followed my advice, and some even came and 
 Bat down beside me. Among the latter was the Abb^ 
 Godard. 
 
64 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE PEOPLE. 
 
 The Prison is Invaded. — Fear Gives Wings. — Under the 
 Pikes. — "Come Forward, AbbI:! — An Excellent Woman, 
 Who Has Only One Weakness. — Going Before the 
 Tribunal. 
 
 ScAKCELY were we in this position, when the two 
 doors of the hall — they were at the extremities, and 
 exactly opposite each other — were assailed with vio- 
 lent and repeated blows. You can form some idea 
 of the impression these blows made upon us. Our 
 hearts stood still, and we seemed like beings turned 
 to stone. 
 
 Suddenly, I heard near me a very loud noise. I 
 turned my head, and noticed that the Abbd Godard 
 was no longer beside me. Raising my eyes, I per- 
 ceived that one of the panes of the window was 
 wide open. 
 
 I confess I felt furiously angry with the Abb^ 
 Godard for the moment. " He is," I said to myself, 
 " anything but charitable and generous, — he finds a 
 place to hide in and never gives me a hint of it ! " 
 
 I rose abruptly, placed one foot on the " archi- 
 banco," and the other on its back, and leaped to the 
 ledge of the window, which was more than fourteen 
 feet above the ground. Although I was agile enough 
 
THE PEOPLE. 66 
 
 in those days, it is still a mystery to me how I did it. 
 From my perch I saw the Abb^ Godard in a little 
 yard that seemed to me to be very low. However, I 
 had to get there by hook or by crook, and, as I was 
 afraid I might break my legs if I jumped, I resolved 
 to hang on by the ledge and slide down along the 
 wall as well as I could. This succeeded, and I 
 reached the ground without any damage, except a 
 slight scratch on my thigh, having torn my knee- 
 breeches. All this takes long in telling, but was 
 really executed in less than a minute. " I see you, 
 Abb^ ; what are you doing there ? " I said. " Where 
 is the door? I see but one." And, indeed, the 
 one I did see appeared to me to be stopped up with 
 limestone. 
 
 The yard had evidently been long abandoned by 
 the monks. 
 
 However, thirteen of our companions followed us, 
 and among them the servant of the Due de Penthifevre, 
 who was sixty. The fear of death gives wings. 
 
 As soon as the mob had broken in the doors of the 
 prison, they rushed forward, howling, "They have 
 escaped ! they are escaping ! " 
 
 We were soon discovered, and a portion of the 
 crowd ran round to the little door, which was easily 
 battered down. Others climbed the walls, which 
 were not so high on the outside, and began thrusting 
 at us with their pikes, at the same time uttering vio- 
 lent outcries and imprecations. Fortunately, the 
 pikes were very short and did not reach us. But 
 they were alarming enough for all that, and we 
 squatted in the angle of the wall opposite to escape 
 
 5 
 
66 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 them. In fact, we were half-dead with terror, and I 
 confess I trembled as much as the rest. I murmured 
 in French the " Our Father," the Angelical Saluta- 
 tion, and an Act of Contrition. I feared we were 
 about to be massacred on the spot, in the same man- 
 ner in which the prisoners at the Carmes, 'as I learned 
 afterward, were massacred. 
 
 Such was our situation when a gruff voice sud- 
 denly called out, — 
 
 " Abbe Godard ! " 
 
 You can easily understand that our good abbd was 
 in no hurry to show himself, or even to answer the 
 summons. Dreading that his silence might serve 
 only to irritate the mob, I said to him : — 
 
 " Come now, abb^, they know you ; why do you 
 not come forward, then? If you hesitate, you are 
 sure to be massacred on the spot. Perhaps your tall 
 figure — you will remember he was six feet one — will 
 strike them with awe." 
 
 These words gave him a little courage, and he ad- 
 vanced toward the door ; but he had scarcely reached 
 it when he was seized by the collar by a big, fat 
 ruffian, who hauled him through it, shouting : " We 
 have him, the brigand! Come along, you old ras- 
 cal!" Then I saw them both disappear in the 
 crowd. 
 
 I felt quite sure that he was led away to be mas- 
 sacred, and for two weeks I remained certain of his 
 death. But one fine day I met my abb^, as large as 
 life, strolling along a street in the Faubourg Saint- 
 Antoine. I was so astonished that for a few moments 
 I could not utter a word. " Why," I at length ex- 
 
THE PEOPLE. 67 
 
 claimed, " it is the Abb^ Godard I " He told me that 
 the men who appeared so ferocious were only there, 
 in fact, to save him, and it was with the object of 
 throwing dust in the eyes of the others that they 
 acted in the way I have related, and pretended to 
 ill treat him. He added that he had not the least 
 doubt himself but that his last hour was come. 
 
 These men had been sent by Manuel, the famous 
 Attorney-General of the Commune. He did not give 
 them any written order for fear of becoming "sus- 
 pect" Even as it was, he was in great dread of being 
 compromised, as well as of being disobeyed by his 
 agents. 
 
 The abbd was indebted to the entreaties of Man- 
 uel's mistress, whom he had known for a long time, 
 for his safety. Her son was afterward a doctor. She 
 was as humpbacked as -^sop, but quite as witty, and 
 had a very pretty face. Except for her weakness in be- 
 coming the mistress of a scoundrel, she was an excel- 
 lent woman. Still, perhaps I am too hard on Manuel, 
 who perished because he refused to condemn his 
 august master to death. 
 
 This lady owned a house at Meudon, and, as the 
 king used to visit his chateau there for the purpose 
 of hunting, during the years preceding his imprison- 
 ment, she had often opportunities of meeting him in 
 the adjoining wood. The monarch, being doubtless 
 charmed by the extraordinary winsomeness of this 
 lovely person, one day asked her who she was, and 
 she gained his entire confidence in the end. As I 
 mentioned before, she was full of wit, and her man- 
 ners and conversation were equally attractive. She 
 
68 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 gave the king information on all matters with which 
 she was acquainted, and, in fact, he had made arrange- 
 ments for her occupying apartments in the Tuileries, 
 before the 10th of August. Indeed, our unhappy 
 sovereign had excited her interest to the highest 
 degree. She had entire control over Manuel, who 
 would have consented, if a certain illustrious person- 
 age had adopted his plans, to effect the king's escape 
 from prison, in the early days of his detention, when 
 he had stiU a part of his household with him. 
 
 But these details have too little to do with the 
 massacres that I should dwell any longer on them. 
 However, I can certify to their accuracy, having heard 
 them from the lips of this excellent woman herself, 
 when I had afterward occasion to see her. If I have 
 ventured on this short digression it is because I am 
 tired of always talking of myself, and also, madame, 
 because it gives me an opportunity of mentioning an 
 incident in the life of that august and too unfortunate 
 sovereign whose favor and confidence your grand- 
 father and father have deserved and enjoyed. 
 
 Now I return to myself. No one else was called, 
 after the Abbd Godard had disappeared. The assas- 
 sins stood before the door, looking at us curiously, 
 and without anger, apparently. Then, without pay- 
 ing much attention to what I was doing, carried 
 away by my natural impulsiveness, impatient to put 
 an end to this cruel uncertainty, and thinking that, 
 perhaps, my action might have some influence on 
 them, I went quickly toward the door, and said, — 
 
 " Here I am ; I am not guilty." 
 
 The wretches, believing, doubtless, that I was try- 
 
THE PEOPLE. 69 
 
 ing to escape, levelled their pikes at me. I do not 
 know whether it was imagination or reality, but I 
 thought the point of a pike touched me, and I took 
 a step backward. At the same time, I cried out, with 
 all my might, — 
 
 " Unhappy men, what would you do I I declare to 
 you, before Heaven, that I am not guilty ! " 
 
 At these words, a middle-aged man, apparently 
 from the country, his hands all red with blood, 
 dressed in a wagoner's blouse which dripped with 
 blood also, and carrying a lighted torch, said to me : 
 
 " Come with me, and, if you are not guilty, no one 
 will do you any harm." 
 
 I took his arm immediately. The crowd, which, 
 at this point, was very closely packed, separated into 
 two lines, and allowed me to pass through, without 
 insulting me. Diu'ing the whole passage, I did not 
 utter a single word ; however, it was very long, for 
 we had to cross an extensive yard and part of a gar- 
 den. We were escorted on our way by an immense 
 crowd of armed men, our path lit up by numerous 
 torches and the rays of a bright moon, which shone 
 serenely over this vile band of cut-throats. 
 
70 MEMOIRS OF Mge. SALAMON. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE MASSACRE. 
 
 The Court and the Judges. — The Strategy of the 
 Internuncio. — The Passing of the Martyrs. 
 
 At length we reached the dwelling of the monks,, 
 and entered a low hall, opening on the garden, through 
 a glass folding-door. A large table, covered with a 
 green cloth, stood in the middle, and on it several 
 closely-written sheets of paper, and an inkstand with 
 pen-holders. It was surrounded by a number of per- 
 sons who were all disputing so hotly that they paid 
 no attention to me. A man in the centre, dressed in 
 black and even with his hair powdered, appeared to 
 preside. 
 
 The man who had offered me his arm as far as this 
 spot now left me, and I found myself stationed at a 
 window opposite the door. The sill was wide enough 
 to afford me a seat, and I sat down. Believing that 
 nobody was heeding me, I looked carefully around 
 and discovered that I had been followed, not only by 
 those who escaped into the little yard, but also by 
 those who remained in the hall. They all came, as 
 if mechanically, toward the spot where I was, and 
 then formed a line reaching to the door. I had the 
 Due de Penthievre's servant just in front of me, 
 
THE MASSACRE. 71 
 
 and of course was the farthest away of any of them 
 from the door. I could not be placed more favor- 
 ably. If they began with those nearest the door, 
 as in fact they did, I should naturally be the last 
 to be massacred. 
 
 As far as I could judge, we were not known, and 
 it would appear from some observations of our cap- 
 tors that the committee of surveillance of the Mairie 
 had neglected to forward a list of those prisoners 
 whose names were not entered on the jail-book. 
 Such turned out to be actually the case. All that 
 was said about us was that we were non-juring 
 priests. 
 
 In spite of my dislike to abandoning the ecclesi- 
 astical habit, I had decided to do so after the 10th 
 of August I therefore told Madame Blanchet that, 
 as she was so anxious to have me cast aside the 
 robes of my order, I would go the full length, and 
 she must provide me with a thorough disguise. I 
 requested her to get me a gray coat, red waistcoat, 
 and white silk stockings. 
 
 As this striking costume was brought to me only 
 on the eve of my imprisonment, I had forgotten to 
 tie my hair. But after entering my prison, I tied 
 it with the white string of my knee-breeches, and, 
 on the whole, was scarcely recognizable. Moreover, 
 I was very poorly clad. Arrested at midnight, and 
 obliged to dress in a hurry, I had seized a miserable 
 old coat, which happened to be near my hand. I 
 had a very common-looking appearance too, for, 
 contrary to my usual custom, I had not got shaved 
 and powdered since Saturday. Then my face waa 
 
I 
 
 72 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 anything but attractive, on account of my fever, 
 and the moral and physical suffering I had endured 
 for twenty-four hours. 
 
 We were now awaiting our fate, when a violent 
 quarrel arose among our judges. They were furious 
 because certain persons, and especially the commis- 
 saries, were not at their post. Many insisted that 
 persons should be sent to drag them out of their 
 beds and bring them there by force, if necessary. 
 Others said: "So much the worse for them. If 
 they refuse to take their share in the national ven- 
 geance, we can denounce them to the Commune." 
 
 At length, by repeatedly ringing his bell, the presi- 
 dent effected some show of order. A man took the 
 floor and made a little speech, of which the follow- 
 ing is the substance, — 
 
 "We are talking and acting like idiots. What 
 difference does it make whether such and such per- 
 sons are here or not here? We are intrusted with 
 the task of avenging the people. You have before 
 you a heap of wretches who await the just punish- 
 ment of their crimes. These people are all calotins, 
 — and when I say calotins, you know I mean priests. 
 They are sworn enemies of the nation, for they have 
 refused to take the oath. You know, too, that many 
 of them have tried to escape, thereby showing they 
 had no confidence in the justice of patriots. They 
 are all nothing but aristocrats. We should deal with 
 them at once, then, for certainly they are the most 
 guilty of all." 
 
 As I noticed that only a small number seemed to 
 approve the words of this wicked man, I advanced 
 
THE MASSACRE. 73 
 
 to the table, and raising my hands to heaven, I cried, 
 in impassioned tones: "No, no, we did not try to 
 escape ; only, at the noise made by breaking in the 
 door, some of us lost our heads, and in our terror 
 jumped into that yard, at the risk of breaking our 
 legs. We believed assassins were coming to murder 
 us ; but as soon as we recognized the National Guards, 
 we ran to meet them." 
 
 Here some one interrupted me and said, — 
 
 " After all, it is natural for man to fly danger. "We 
 had better examine them, and then we shall learn 
 whether their sole crime is that of flying." 
 
 Thereupon, the president rose and asked, — 
 
 "Do you wish to examine them?" And all an- 
 swered : " Yes, yes I " 
 
 Upon this, the president turned to the right and 
 addressed the person who was at the head of the line, 
 next the door. It was the cur^ of Saint-Jean en 
 Grfeve. The poor old man, who walked very slowly, 
 had not been able, doubtless, to penetrate farther 
 into the hall. The examination was short, like all 
 those that followed. 
 
 " Have you taken the oath ? " the president asked 
 him. 
 
 The curd answered calmly, — 
 
 " No, I have not taken it." 
 
 At the same instant, a sabre stroke, aimed at his 
 head, but luckily missing it, knocked off his wig and 
 exposed to view a bald head, which the years had till 
 then respected, but which assassins were soon to lay 
 low. But then strokes fell swift and sharp, now 
 on the head, now on the body, and in a few seconds 
 
74 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 he lay stretched on the floor. He was seized by the 
 feet and dragged outside. His murderers quickly 
 returned, shouting : " Vive la Nation 1 " 
 
 This death caused me the profoundest emotion : I 
 trembled in every joint ; my knees bent under me, 
 and I had barely time to sit, or rather fall down, on 
 the little window-sill. With eyes full of tears, I 
 murmured to myself : " Pray for me, great saint, pray 
 for me, happy old man, who are now in Heaven, pray 
 that the absolution you gave me on earth may not be 
 unavailing. Obtain for me the favor of dying with 
 the same calmness and sweetness and resignation you 
 have just shown." 
 
 It was next the turn of the Abbd Bouzet, grand 
 vicar of Rheims, with whose brother — he was a 
 major — I afterwards became well acquainted. The 
 president asked : " Have you taken the oath?" He 
 replied in a voice so weak that I scarcely heard 
 it : "I have not taken it." Then they cried : " Away 
 with him ! " Immediately, several assassins separated 
 him from the others, surrounded him, and pushed 
 him before them into the garden, which was the scene 
 of the massacre, and on a level with the hall. I 
 looked mechanically before me, and saw two arms 
 tossing about in the air, apparently parrying the 
 blows of pike and sabre. I turned my head away 
 quickly, saying to myself: "I cannot escape death, 
 since I have not taken the oath." Then the cry of 
 " Vive la Nation ! " was anew repeated. The Abbd 
 Bouzet was no more. 
 
 The poor attorney, for whom I had invented a 
 plausible little defence, was the next victim. The 
 
THE MASSACRE. 75 
 
 unfortunate man forgot all my story. Instead of 
 declaring that he was no priest, he lost his head and 
 cried: "I accuse myself of harboring a non-juring 
 priest in my house." Thereupon, all cried out; 
 " Oh I the wretch I he has tried to save a calotin ! " 
 They even added an insulting epithet which I would 
 not dare to reproduce here. Then they vociferated : 
 " Death I death I " They struck him down on the 
 spot. His wig fell off, like that of the poor curd. 
 He was dragged out of the hall, and a little after, 
 hideous yells announced that he was dead. 
 
 The Abbd Capparuis, a townsman of my own, was 
 tlie next to fall. He was a man of a very timorous 
 character. He had at one time done parochial work 
 in the parish of St. Paul, where he was universally 
 venerated for his virtues. 
 
 At this moment, the worthy servant of the Due de 
 Penthifevre turned to me ; his eyes were full of tears. 
 " You must endeavor to be calm, my friend," I said 
 to him ; " they will soon see what you are — Why, 
 what do you imagine they could do to a poor man 
 like you? But be sure and tell them you are an 
 unfortunate servant, the father of a family with ever 
 so many children, and that you were arrested as you 
 were passing along the Rue des Arts. Above all, do 
 not lose your head, like the attorney. Now go a little 
 away from me." 
 
 My plan was to isolate myself as much as possible, 
 so that those nearest the table, seeing me alone, might 
 at last forget me, and I might succeed in slipping out 
 at the first favorable opportunity. I do not know if 
 this excellent man understood me, but he went away 
 
76 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 at once and joined his companions. The number of 
 them had now considerably diminished. The assas- 
 sins had murdered, one after the other, the Abbd 
 Gervais, the grand vicar of Strasbourg, my poor 
 friend of the Hotel-Dieu, and the President of the 
 Superior Council of Corsica. 
 
 It was now, perhaps, about three in the morning. I 
 say "perhaps," for I no longer paid any attention to 
 the stroke of the clock. I was becoming indifferent 
 to the massacres that were going on around me, and 
 had no longer thought for any one except myself, 
 although, by the glare of the numerous torches that 
 lit up this horrible execution, I saw all my compan- ^ 
 ions perishing one by one. I felt in every part of my 
 body a deadly chill, and my feet were frozen. All 
 my blood had flown to my head. Sharp pains tor- 
 tured my face, and I experienced the same sensations 
 I might have if it was actually burning. I fre- 
 quently passed my right hand over my head, and, in 
 revolving different ways of escaping, I rubbed the 
 scalp so violently that I unconsciously tore out the 
 hair by the roots. And so, from that time, my hair 
 began to fall out in handfuls ; in less than three 
 months, I became as bald as I am now, and yet, be- 
 fore that period, few could boast of a finer head of 
 hair than I had. 
 
 Well, I must acknowledge to my confusion that, 
 in spite of my imminent peril, and although my last 
 moments were slipping away, I was neither wholly 
 absorbed in God nor resigned to die. On the con- 
 trary, all my thoughts were busy with the best means 
 of avoiding the hideous fate that was on the watch 
 
THE MASSACRE. 77 
 
 for me. These sabrenstrokes and pike-thrusts turned 
 the very blood in my veins to ice with the chill horror 
 of the thing, but failed to penetrate me with the piety 
 that ought to fill us all at our last hour. I recited, 
 indeed, the Pater and Ave, and also the Act of Contri- 
 tion, but without any of that profound emotion which 
 the approach of death inspires. This idea dominated 
 every other in my mind : " What should I do to 
 avoid the question concerning the oath?" 
 
 Sometimes the massacres would stop for a few 
 minutes to give the assassins an opportunity to listen 
 to the harangues of deputations from other sections, 
 which handed in reports on the condition of their 
 prisons and the massacres that were going on in them. 
 Those of the Homme-Arm^ and the Arsenal, in par- 
 ticular, gave lengthy descriptions of the horrors tak- 
 ing place in La Force and Saint-Firmin. 
 
 At last the turn of the perruquier came. He de- 
 fended himself with much courage, but his destruction 
 was a foregone conclusion, as he had told me. The 
 principal charges against him were that he did not fol- 
 low the Faubourg Saint- Antoine on the 10th of August, 
 and was an aristocrat ; therefore he must die ! 
 
 They then examined the two poor Minim monks. 
 The president asked them if they had taken the oath. 
 Before they answered, one of those around the table, 
 who was, doubtless, acquainted with them, undertook 
 their defence, saying, — 
 
 " They are not priests, and, therefore, incapable of 
 taking the oath." 
 
 "But they are fanatics," retorted another; "they 
 are rascals, and ought to be put to death I " 
 
78 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOX. 
 
 These words occasioned a dispute between the 
 wretches. The vilest among them insisted that they 
 should be dragged into the garden and massacred. 
 Others, seizing the arms of the brothers, tried to 
 keep them in the hall. This struggle attracted my 
 attention, and I remarked that the young sub-deacon, 
 who was so anxious for death, opposed much less 
 resistance to those who wished to drag him outside 
 than he did to those who were endeavoring to save 
 him. At last, the baser element was victorious, and 
 they were massacred. 
 
A HAPPY DIVERSION. 79 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A HAPPY DIVERSION. 
 
 The Deputation of the Marseillais. — A Blood-drikker. — 
 The Internuncio as a Jacobin Orator. — Tragic Death of 
 two Youno Guardsmen. — A Gleau of Hope. 
 
 Then the Abb^ Simon was massacred. He was 
 the old priest, you will recollect, who came to the 
 Mairie to see his brother, and was detained as a 
 prisoner. "Since you are here," they said to him, 
 " remain ; this is a place where you are sure to find 
 yourself in any case before very long." When the old 
 man was dead, there arrived a deputation from the 
 committee of the Jacobins, who used to assemble in 
 the Church of the Cordeliers. These were very blood- 
 thirsty people, who numbered the famous Marat 
 among their leaders. They were almost all members 
 of that celebrated Marseillais band that came to 
 Paris to take part in the outrages of the 10 th of 
 August. 
 
 They were received with great honors. The presi- 
 dent begged them to approach, and requested them 
 to speak. The leader of the deputation then read an 
 order of the day passed by the Union of the Corde- 
 liers, demanding that two prisoners, who were not 
 present, being in another hall of the Abbaye, should 
 be pardoned. The president, after sounding the 
 
80 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 praises of the Marseillais and the Union of Corde- 
 liers, replied that the request would be taken into 
 consideration at once. Accordingly, he asked whether 
 there was any opposition to the motion. 
 
 A young man belonging to the Unity section, who 
 had his hair powdered, but wore a wagoner's blouse 
 stained with blood, here rose and said, — 
 
 " M. le President, I am opposed to the demand of 
 the Marseillais. The prisoners whose release you 
 ask for are scoundrels, royalist conspirators. I know 
 them. The time for indulgence is passed. The 
 moderates are doing us more harm than the aristo- 
 crats." At length, after uttering a thousand hideous 
 imprecations, he concluded with this atrocious pro- 
 posal ; " I move that we decree ' cruelt}^' " 
 
 The fury with which he spoke froze the blood in 
 my veins. Ah, how could I ever escape the rage 
 of such a butcher! However, I remarked that the 
 people had heard him in silence, and that there was 
 no applause. Encouraged by what looked like a kind 
 of disapproval, I endeavored to recall all my cour- 
 age, and making a final struggle for self-control, I 
 advanced to the table, — there was not such a throng 
 round it now that I could not find room, — and with 
 uplifted arm and clenched hand, I cried in a hoarse 
 voice, imitating as well as I was able the tones of 
 these blood-drinkers, — 
 
 " M. le President, is it possible there can be found 
 one amongst us capable of rejecting a request pre- 
 ferred by the Marseillais ? Can there be a man here 
 who is ignorant that the patriotism of the Marseillais 
 burns more fiercely than the ardent sun which shines 
 
A HAPPY DIVERSION. 81 
 
 above them ? Does any one in tliis assembly dare to 
 doubt that, when the Marseillais are interested in two 
 prisoners, it is because these two prisoners are the 
 two greatest patriots in Paris to-day ? The proposal 
 that has been brought forward to decree 'cruelty,* 
 is an insult to a nation as renowned for its mildness 
 and generosity as ours is. I move, M. le President, 
 that these two prisoners be led before you at once 
 and pardoned." And to give force to my last words, 
 I struck a mighty blow on the green table-cloth with 
 my fist 
 
 The hall resounded with applause. " Bravo ! 
 bravo ! " was shouted from all quarters. You can 
 easily imagine that the Marseillais, who numbered 
 about a dozen, were not backward in their acclama- 
 tions either. As for myself, I did not judge it quite 
 convenient to await the result of my audacious apos- 
 trophe where I was. I withdrew to the recess of the 
 window and took my seat again on the little sill. I 
 was in an extraordinary state of agitation. What I 
 dreaded most was that some opponent of the Marseil- 
 lais might recognize me, for, of course, in that case, 
 I was pretty sure to be butchered on the spot. I had 
 a burning fever, and was steaming with perspiration, 
 after the effort I had made. I trembled all over, and 
 although I was seated, my heart beat as fast as if 1 
 had been running a long race at full speed. I gasped 
 for breath. But I cannot give you any idea of my 
 condition at this moment. 
 
 The uproar continued long ; however, the clanging 
 of the president's enormous bell at length restored 
 some sort of order, and he said to the people, — 
 
 6 
 
82 MEMOIRS OP Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 " I shall now put the motion of the last speaker to 
 the vote." 
 
 All, or at least the majority, shouted : " Adopted I 
 adopted!" 
 
 The president then read the order of the Cordeliers, 
 after which four men, armed with pikes, and four 
 others, bearing torches, went in search of the two 
 prisoners. 
 
 While they were absent, an incident occurred that 
 absorbed all my attention, and filled me with horror. 
 Two young men, or rather boys, had been arrested 
 on Sunday and conducted to the Abbaye. They 
 were recognized as belonging to the new guard of 
 the king, and the intention was, doubtless, to have 
 them massacred. But they had found favor for the 
 moment with their escort, and were placed in the 
 violon, the little lock-up of the section, opening on 
 the place of slaughter. It was intended to keep 
 them in detention until their character was investi- 
 gated. They had said they resided in the Rue-Saint- 
 Victor ; it was a false address, and they gave it in 
 the hope that they might be forgotten. The commis- 
 saries who had been directed to investigate the matter 
 returned furious, exclaiming that the wretches had 
 deceived them ; they had inquired at every house in 
 the street, and no one knew anything of the two 
 guardsmen. They added that they were "Knights 
 of the Poniard," and should be punished immediately. 
 The appalling tones in which the whole crowd yelled : 
 " Death ! death ! " would have daunted the bravest. 
 
 They were led forward on the spot. They were 
 both remarkably tall and well-formed, and strikingly 
 
A HAPPY DIVERSION. 88 
 
 handsome. I was at considerable pains afterward to 
 find out something about them, but all I could learn 
 was that they belonged, as I have stated, to the new 
 guards of the king. 
 
 As soon as tliey made their appearance, the foul- 
 est insults were lavished on them; then a ruffian, 
 baser than the rest, if that were possible, struck the 
 taller of the two a violent blow with his sabre, who 
 only answered with a shrug of the shoulders. After 
 this, there was a horrible struggle between these vile 
 blood-drinkers and the two youths, who, although un- 
 armed, defended themselves like lions. They threw 
 several of their assailants to the ground, and I really 
 believe that, if they had only had a knife, they would 
 have been victorious. At last, they fell on the floor, 
 all pierced with wounds. They seemed in despair at 
 the thought of death, and the words of one of them 
 reached my ears : " To die so young, and in such a 
 manner ! " 
 
 This terrible death-struggle inspired me with such 
 dismay that I lost all the calmness — and that was 
 not much — I had recovered on seeing the two pris- 
 oners pardoned. I seemed to behold those sabres 
 whirling round my head and feel those pikes entering 
 my body. For the first time, I experienced a real 
 dread of death, and I believed it inevitable. God 
 was good enough also to restore all my fervor, and I 
 murmured with sincere piety, from the bottom of my 
 heart, and even half aloud, so that I might have been 
 heard, if any one was paying attention to me, some 
 such words as these : — 
 
 "My God, I know well that I must die! If I 
 
84 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 have done nothing to merit Heaven, attribute it only 
 to the frailty of my youth, and not to any want of 
 faith and religion. You know that I love you, that 
 my intentions have been upright, that I have never 
 spoken against your holy religion, that I like to re- 
 lieve the poor and to practise charity, — that virtue 
 which, more than any other, pleases you: have 
 mercy on me, then, according to your great mercy. 
 And, O Virgin Mary, you whom the dying sinner 
 never finds deaf to his prayers, pray now for me. I 
 wear your holy scapular on me; it will be turned 
 into derision if it be found there ; do not allow such 
 a dishonor to religion to occur. Do you, who have 
 proclaimed yourself our safety in danger, give me 
 strength to die with courage in the midst of tor- 
 ments, the very idea of which makes me shudder." 
 
 Meanwhile, the assassins had transported the two 
 young guardsmen into the garden in order to strip 
 their bodies, — a thing they always did, — and to 
 appropriate whatever they happened to possess. 
 
 The next prisoner reached was the brother of the 
 Abbd Simon, the old canon of St. Quentin, who had 
 been massacred a little before. 
 
 He was asked if he had taken the oath. He an- 
 swered in the affirmative, and, drawing a paper from 
 his pocket, he presented it in evidence; it was the 
 oath of Liberty and Equality, which he had at once 
 sworn when it was first decreed. The ferocious 
 assassin who opposed the demand of the Marseillais 
 here rose and said: "This oath is no good; we re- 
 quire the oath which priests alone are obliged to 
 take." Another retorted : " You are hard to please. 
 
A HAPPY DIVERSION. 85 
 
 This oath is good. You might be satisfied with the 
 slaughter of the two innocent victims, in which you 
 have just taken part.'* He was speaking of the 
 young Minim monks, and he repeated loudly : " This 
 oath is good ! " 
 
 Many imitated him, crjdng : " This oath is good ! '* 
 and the old man was saved. Do you, by the way, 
 remark, madame, the singular mixture of ferocity 
 and justice that prevailed among these extraordinary 
 judges ? 
 
 He was the first of my companions to escape death, 
 and his pardon restored a little of my calmness. 
 
 At length, the two prisoners who owed their safety 
 to the intervention of the Marseillais were brought 
 in, and I was agreeably surprised at recognizing one 
 of them. I had met him often in the drawing-rooms 
 of the Comte de Modene, my intimate friend, and the 
 Marquise de Moulins. It was the Chevalier de Sole- 
 rac, captain of Swiss. He seemed unluckily to have 
 also been known to the savage butcher who tried to 
 have him murdered. 
 
 The other was a lawyer, named Huguenin, com- 
 mandant of the battalion of Saintr-Andr^ des Arts. 
 
 The decree pardoning them was read, and they 
 were directed to enter the violon. 
 
86 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE EXAIkllNATION. 
 
 The Actob Dugazon. — Oh, that Wearisome Hunchback ! — 
 "I Demand TO be Heard." — Something Good even in Mail- 
 lard. — Delighted to enter the " Violon." — That Hunch- 
 back AGAIN ! — The Abbe Sicard or his Ghost. 
 
 It must have been then about five in the morning. 
 To my surprise, the actor Dugazon came in at that 
 very moment, and he came, in the absence of the 
 president, to preside over this infernal assembly. I 
 had often met him in drawing-rooms, where he was 
 invited to give recitations. I was about to advance 
 toward him and implore his protection, but a mo- 
 ment's reflection brought me to a standstill. "He 
 will," I thought, " be, perhaps, confused at being seen 
 by an honest man in such a wicked place, and that 
 would only accelerate my destruction." So I very 
 quickly resumed my customary attitude. 
 
 I observed then a little humpbacked fellow in a 
 corner, who was apparently spying on me. I confess 
 his presence annoyed me excessively, and I was not 
 wrong, as you will soon see, in looking on it as a bad 
 omen. 
 
 Dugazon had entered in the midst of a quarrel 
 among the assassins ; they could not agree upon each 
 one's share of the clothing and money of the poor 
 
THE EXAMINATION. 87 
 
 ■victims. After giving us the benefit of his shrill 
 little voice for some time, Dugazon went away. 1 
 must acknowledge, however, that while he occupied 
 the chair no one was massacred.^ 
 
 His successor was an ex-attorney at the Chdtelet, 
 named Maillard. He was diessed in black, and his 
 hair was powdered. His countenance did not look 
 repulsive, and this calmed me somewhat, for I was 
 in such a state that a mere nothing sufficed to raise 
 or depress my courage. I know not whether this 
 new president was a blood-drinker or not, I only 
 know that I heard him say : " Let us finish." 
 
 Thereupon, two soldiers of the constitutional 
 guard were massacred, without any pretence of 
 trial. 
 
 At last the turn of the Due de Penthifevre's ser- 
 vant came. As his hair was cut close, they took him 
 for a disguised priest, and asked: "Have you taken 
 the oath ? " He repeated, word for word, everything 
 I had told him. No sooner had he ended than all 
 cried out : " Why, he 's a servant I Pardon ! par- 
 don I " And he was at once set at liberty, without 
 passing through the violon, 
 
 I was delighted at his escape. He was the second 
 of my companions who had been saved from death. 
 
 This excellent man, although he was quite near 
 me, never turned his head in my direction, doubtless 
 for fear of compromising me. 
 
 I was now the only one left; it was almost day- 
 light ; I was in hopes of being able to slip off, withr 
 out being seen, among the many who were constantly 
 
 1 Perhaps this justifies the presence of Dugazon. 
 
88 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 going and coming. The men around the table were 
 evidently occupied with trifling conversation. How- 
 ever, I kept an eye on the hunchback, who remained 
 always in the same place. " What is he doing 
 there ? ** I said to myself, fretfully. " Why does n't 
 he go away ? " 
 
 Still, the butchery was not over, by any means, and 
 two persons, whom I did not know, were slaughtered 
 before my eyes. 
 
 It was now full daylight ; a large portion of the 
 mob had left, and the outcries of the people were no 
 longer heard. The persons who remained seemed 
 quite weary, and ready to fall asleep. It was, at 
 least, half past seven ; but the shutters of the win- 
 dows were still closed, and the hall was lit only by 
 candles, which no one thought of snuffing, and by 
 such light as streamed in through the glass door, 
 through which the victims passed. 
 
 I was, therefore, preparing for flight, and was 
 quietly moving up behind those remaining in the 
 hall, none of whom noticed me, when that rascal of a 
 hunchback cried : " There is one of them here still ! " 
 
 I remember that I was not at all excited, and, as 
 I wished to elude the question; "Have you taken 
 the oath ? " which would most assuredly have been 
 my death-warrant, I rushed to the table, and, address- 
 ing the man in black, with powdered hair : " Citizen 
 President," said I, " before lam sacrificed to the rage 
 of a deceived people, I demand to be heard.'* 
 
 " Who art thou ? '* he said, in menacing tones. 
 
 " I was a clerical councillor in the Parliament of 
 Paris, and am now a lawyer.'* 
 
THE EXAMINATION. 89 
 
 I do not know if my appearance or my courage 
 impressed him, or whether he may not have recog- 
 nized me, but his manner was milder, as he said to 
 the people : — 
 
 ** This prisoner is well known in the law courts 
 of Paris." 
 
 " You are perfectly correct, citizen," I answered. 
 
 Abandoning the " thou," he asked : — 
 
 " Why have you been brought here ? " 
 
 I began at once to relate a story half false and half 
 true. I told him that a police regulation, made on 
 the 27th of August, required all citizens to be in 
 their homes by ten o'clock in the evening; — this 
 was true ; — but, being ignorant of this regulation, 
 I remained out beyond the prescribed time, and was 
 arrested just as I was returning to my lodgings in 
 the Rue du Palais-Marchand ; — all this was false ; — 
 and that I had been brought successively before the 
 Committee of the section, the Committee of Surveil- 
 lance of the Cit^, and the Committee of Surveillance 
 of the Mairie. I was transferred by the latter to the 
 Abbaye : " And all this occurred," I added, raising 
 my voice, "without any examination." I also said 
 that I was led to the scene of the massacre, just at 
 the very moment when Potion was about to order 
 my release, and I exhibited the little note which poor 
 Blanchet had brought me on Sunday morning, and 
 in which he promised that I should regain my freedom 
 at three o'clock. 
 
 Thereupon, the president, perhaps with the view 
 of helping me, perhaps remorseful for the massacre, 
 said : — 
 
90 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 "You see, messieurs, with what culpable levity 
 they imprison citizens in the other sections. If we 
 had arrested this prisoner, we should have examined 
 him and sent him home." 
 
 These words revived all my courage, and, striking 
 my hand on the table, I cried — 
 
 " I appeal to my section ! I appeal to the deputies 
 of the National Assembly ! " 
 
 "Oh, the deputies of the National Assembly, in- 
 deed ! " some one exclaimed ; " we have a list of their 
 names, and intend cutting their throats as well as 
 other people's when the proper time comes." 
 
 Remarking that I was on the wrong track, I hastily 
 changed my position, — 
 
 " Yes, but I am speaking of the patriot H^rault, of 
 the patriot Tornd, of the patriot Rov^re I " 
 
 " Bravo ! bravo I " they all cried. 
 
 The president, taking instant advantage of the 
 current in my favor, said, — 
 
 " I propose that this prisoner be sent to the violon^ 
 until we receive further information regarding him." 
 
 I did not wait for their decision, but immediately 
 hastened to enter the violon^ the door of which hap- 
 pened to be open that very moment. I think I men- 
 tioned before that this violon opened on the hall. 
 
 I could distinguish only nine or ten persons after I 
 crossed the threshold. Then I perceived a wretched- 
 looking straw mattress, all full of holes, and a chair. 
 I sat down on the mattress and rested my legs on the 
 back of the chair. I had all I could do to keep from 
 fainting. I was utterly broken down, had a violent 
 fever, and my pulse was beating madly ; my hand§i 
 
THE EXAMINATION. 91 
 
 were burning. The respite I had gained did not 
 afford me any pleasure. I was so utterly depressed 
 that I remained with my eyes fixed on the floor, and 
 paid no attention to those who were in the prison with 
 me. Exti-aordinary physical weakness was added to 
 my profound sadness. In fact, I had not taken any 
 solid nourishment since two o'clock on Saturday, and, 
 since eleven, I had been face to face with death. It 
 was now eight o'clock on Monday morning. 
 
 Although gifted with sensibility and easily affected, 
 I do not weep readily; but now my corn-age aban- 
 doned me entirely, and the hot tears ran down my 
 cheeks when I contemplated my lamentable situation, 
 without help or succor in my great need, and without 
 money. 
 
 Such was my sad case, when I saw that detestable 
 hunchback at my side again. He was clad in the 
 uniform of the National Guard, and I surmised that 
 he was the jailer of this little prison. He said to me, 
 with an air of compassion, — 
 
 " You are evidently in a state of great suffering, 
 monsieur ; would you not like to have something to 
 revive you ? " 
 
 Recognizing in the fellow my would-be murderer, 
 for it was he who pointed me out to the president, I 
 answered, in a tone that showed him I wanted to be 
 left alone, — 
 
 " Pray, how can you expect I should care for any- 
 thing in my present condition ? " 
 
 But he persisted, and, as I did not wish to make him 
 an enemy, thinking I might have need of him, I said : 
 
 "Bring me a cup of cafe, a la creme,^' It was the 
 
92 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 very reverse of what I wanted, and wanted badly, but 
 I did not know what to ask of him. 
 
 He brought me the coffee, and I drank it, though I 
 had neither taste nor appetite for it. 
 
 Notwithstanding the fact that I had certainly little 
 reason for trusting this man, it was absolutely neces- 
 sary for me to communicate with somebody outside, 
 and this necessity induced me to say to him, as I 
 handed back the cup, — 
 
 " Would you render me a great service ? Give me 
 paper, pen, and ink, and carry the letter I am going to 
 write to a woman named Blanchet, who lives quite 
 near here, in the court of the Palais. If you comply 
 with my request, I will give you a piece of a hundred 
 sous." 
 
 At the same moment, I turned to M. de Sol^rac, 
 whom I had been instrumental in saving, and, without 
 even bidding him good-day, or saying " How are you ? " 
 in fact, acting as if I had just been conversing with 
 him, I said: "Give me a five franc assignat." He 
 answered immediately, never addressing me directly, 
 however : " Here are two ! " I gave one of them to 
 the hunchback, who took my note and vanished. 
 
 This prompt compliance with my wishes to some 
 extent mitigated my sorrows, and the thought that 
 Blanchet was now to learn of my safety afforded me 
 wonderful relief, for I dreaded that the news of my 
 death — and, as I heard afterward, there had been a 
 rumor to that effect — might drive her to some des- 
 perate act. 
 
 Having become more composed, I threw myself on 
 the mattress, and was beginning to fall asleep, when 
 
THE EXAMINATION. 93 
 
 I perceived an individual approaching the bed cau- 
 tiously on the tips of his toes, evidently desirous of 
 not making any noise. 
 
 It was the Abb^ Sicard. Although his life had 
 been saved at two o'clock the day before, he had not 
 yet been set at liberty. " How did you manage 
 to escape?" he asked, and, without waiting for an 
 answer, disappeared. 
 
 Being entirely taken up with my own thoughts, I 
 barely glanced at him. A few moments after, his face 
 came back to my mind, but I fancied I must have 
 seen a phantom. I looked into every corner of our 
 little prison; there was no Abb^ Sicard anyivhere. 
 Then, remembering that there was a small apartment 
 adjoining, which was used as a water-closet, I opened 
 the door, and in it was our abb^, seated on a stone. 
 He was doubtless afraid that he would be sought 
 after, and did not dare to remain among the other 
 prisoners. I like courage in a man, and I confess I 
 gazed upon him with contempt. I turned on my 
 heels, and did not address a single word to him. 
 I do not know whether it was because he resented 
 my demeanor and wished to show his irritation at it 
 afterward, or because he was determined to pick 
 a quarrel with me in any case, but, although I called 
 to see him twice, he never returned my visits. I 
 met him once, however, at the house of Madame 
 Pasquier, where he urged me in the strongest way to 
 write a narrative of my adventures. He wanted, he 
 said, to add it to his own.^ "Abb^," I answered, 
 "you have a passion for fame; every one to his 
 
 1 It appeared in the " Annales Catholiques," in 1796. 
 
94 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 taste: as for me, my sole ambition is to remain 
 unknown. It is not, by any means, from timidity," 
 I added; "but I should regard it as beneath my 
 dignity to rush into print, especially for the sake of 
 profit." 
 
 But he did not give up the fight, for all that, and 
 he afterward sent a bookseller to me, who offered me 
 a thousand crowns. I was at the time in pressing 
 need of money, the Roman bankers of Paris having 
 refused to cash a bill of exchange, on the ground 
 that such action on their part might compromise 
 them. But my reply to the bookseller was: "I 
 know well who sent you, — I do not want your 
 money.*' 
 
IN THE VIOLON. 96 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 IN THE VIOLON. 
 
 Poor Blakchkt! — M. awd Mmb. db Rosambo. — Two Hbboio 
 Women. — That 's M. Sebgent going bt ! — M. Jodrdan and 
 »HB Civil Committeb. — The Sort op a Person the Hunch- 
 back WAS. 
 
 But I was greatly disturbed at hearing nothing 
 about the note I had sent to Blanchet, and still more 
 so when the hours slipped by without bringing her or 
 any one of my household. This cruel state of uncer- 
 tainty lasted until evening. Then I saw my hunch- 
 back again. 
 
 "And my note," I said to him, "what have you 
 done with it?" 
 
 " I took it there, all right, monsieur, but there was 
 no sign of her. She is undoubtedly in prison." 
 
 I had no ground for disbelieving him ; neverthe- 
 less, I continued, — 
 
 "Here is another piece of five francs; it is all I 
 have left; carry a second note to the same place." 
 
 " I am perfectly willing," he answered, and he dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Meanwhile, my fellow-prisoners had ordered in a 
 roast leg of mutton, and pressed me to join them in 
 disposing of it. I accepted the invitation, and made 
 a very hearty meal. 
 
96 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 However, as the result will show, my two notes 
 did not reach their address. On the contrary, Blan- 
 chet had been told I was dead, and that several per- 
 sons had witnessed my massacre. 
 
 Plunged in the most frightful despair, utterly at a 
 loss where to turn, in fact, losing her head completely, 
 she at last thought of running to my good friends M. 
 and Mme. de Rosambo. The scene that ensued when 
 she met them was enough to move the hardest heart. 
 Madame de Montboissier, who happened to be pres- 
 ent, told me that her grief was simply uncontrollable. 
 After vain attempts to calm her, M. de Rosambo said 
 to her : " Do not lose all hope ; things are never as 
 bad as they are represented. Go and make inquiries ; 
 you may be able to find out something about your 
 master. In any case, we promise to take care of 
 you." And, turning to Mme. de Rosambo, he spoke 
 these words, which Blanche t never forgot : "If the 
 good abbd is dead, we shall be only adding another 
 pensioner to our household." 
 
 These words quieted her a little, and, taking a 
 carriage, she drove to the house of one of her friends 
 in the Rue Casette. This was a woman quite as 
 robust as Blanchet and quite as much of an aristo- 
 crate also, although her husband was a violent 
 Jacobin. To make certain whether I was dead or 
 not, she suggested a terrible expedient to Blanchet, 
 who adopted it on the spot. It was to examine the 
 corpses, which were piled naked on top of one an- 
 other, and discover thereby if I was amongst them, 
 or, if I was, whether there might not be a breath of 
 life in me. 
 
IN THE VIOLON. 97 
 
 In fact, the Bishop of Beauvais had been discovered 
 in the latter condition by his valet ; he still breathed. 
 The valet drew him from the cart, and he lived for six 
 months afterward ; he had lost his reason, however. 
 
 But only think what an effort this woman must 
 have made over herself to be able to control her 
 native sensibility, for my Blanchet was so tender- 
 hearted that the sight of any suffering or misfortune, 
 however trivial, filled her with compassion I 
 
 That no obstacle might be placed in their way, 
 Blanchet and her friend said that they were going to 
 886 if their husbands were among the dead ; and, as 
 they were both bathed in tears, they were believed 
 without difficulty. Several even aided them in effect- 
 ing this grisly verification. 
 
 At length, after they had turned over about a hun- 
 dred dead bodies, Blanchet cried out, in tones that 
 trembled with joy: "He is not there!" But they 
 did not venture to make any inquiries of the section, 
 or give a description of the object of their search. 
 
 Blanchet returned to the house, and many of her 
 neighbors, as was to be expected, came to visit and 
 console her. But the terrible stories they retailed of 
 the massacres in the several prisons were anything 
 but calculated to restore her tranquillity. 
 
 This took place on Monday at seven in the evening, 
 and Blanchet was sitting at the window of my room, 
 looking into the court of Les Fontaines in the Palais- 
 Marchand. She was so terribly wrought up at one 
 time that she was near throwing herself out of the 
 window, when one of the women cried : " That 's M. 
 Sergent going by I " And he was actually going by 
 
 7 
 
98 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOX. 
 
 at the time, girt with his tricolor scarf. She added ; 
 " He is very powerful in the Commune of the 10th of 
 August." 
 
 No sooner did Blanchet hear these words than, 
 without asking further explanation, she darted to 
 the staircase, ran down the stairs, and was in the 
 street just at the moment when M. Sergent reached 
 the fountain. Then, throwing herself at his feet, she 
 cried to him, in a distracted voice : " Oh, monsieur, 
 give me back my master; he is one of the best of 
 men, and the sole support of myself and my child." 
 
 At the same time, all the women of the quarter 
 surrounded Sergent. The sight of this woman at 
 his feet affected him deeply, and he said, — 
 
 " What man are you speaking of, — your husband ? '* 
 
 "No, monsieur, he is not my husband; he is my 
 master, my benefactor, who supports me and my 
 family." 
 
 Then Sergent, addressing the women about him, 
 asked, — 
 
 "Are you acquainted with him?" 
 
 "Undoubtedly, monsieur, we know him well; he 
 is an excellent man, not at all proud, and very oblig- 
 ing to his neighbors. It was the people who dragged 
 him from his home who ought to have been put in 
 prison, for he has never done harm to anybody." 
 
 Sergent raised Blanchet and said to her: "Cour- 
 age, my good woman, return to your house; I am 
 going to the Abbaye, and, if he is n^t dead, you '11 
 have him back. What is his name?" The women 
 told him, and he started at once, saying : " Do not be 
 anxious ; you '11 have news of him this evening I " 
 
IN THE VIOLON. 99 
 
 Very probably he went to the Abbaye and learned 
 the names of those who escaped the massacre and 
 were locked up in the violon; for at nine in the 
 evening a workman, di-essed in a tricolor scarf, came 
 to Blanchet and said : " Take courage I there is still 
 some hope ! " 
 
 As for me, the non-arrival of my faithful servant 
 drove me frantic. " She abandons me," I thought, 
 " or else she has killed herself in despair ; for she is 
 quite capable of it ! '* 
 
 At length, being utterly exhausted, and not able to 
 stand, I threw m}^elf on a mattress that was stretched 
 on the floor. I might have selected a better place, 
 for I found myself beside a prisoner who was utterly 
 unknown to me, but I had become insensible to every- 
 thing. I never even thought of informing MM. de 
 Sol^rac and Huguenin that they owed their safety 
 to my energy and courage, and I left prison without 
 breathing a word of the matter to them. 
 
 I was soon in a deep slumber. 
 
 Suddenly I was awakened by the rattling of bolts. 
 At the same moment the door opened, and a voice 
 cried, — 
 
 " Which of you is called Salamon ? " 
 
 In spite of the terror that seized me on being 
 awakened in such a manner, I at once answered, 
 "It is I." 
 
 " Come ! " said the voice. 
 
 I confess n^jr emotion was for the moment ago- 
 nizing. I was even on the point of fainting; but, 
 making a violent effort to regain my energy, I put 
 on my wretched coat, saying: "I follow you." 
 
100 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOX. 
 
 I was sure I was going to my death. I recalled 
 the fate of the two unfortunate guards whom I saw 
 massacred before my eyes. I feared the result of 
 the investigation concerning me had been unfavor- 
 able, and that this summons was but the prelude to 
 another butchery. 
 
 The jailer perceived my uneasiness, and said in a 
 voice intended to be encouraging: "Try to be 
 calm, and be sure to keep close behind me, because 
 we have to cross the hall, and the tribunal is still 
 sitting. There is a third prison next to the one you 
 have left, and the massacre is going to continue." 
 
 I did as he directed, looking neither to the right 
 nor left. We went up a great staircase, and I reached 
 an entresol^ forming part of the convent of the 
 monks. 
 
 After I entered, I perceived five men, three of 
 whom were dressed in black. They all looked like 
 honest people. They were members of a body styled 
 the Civil Committee, and I had no reason to be dis- 
 satisfied with its composition. 
 
 The whole five of them rose when they saw me. 
 
 "How did you manage, monsieur," said one, "to 
 escape from that horrible butchery?" 
 
 "Ah, messieurs," I answered, "after what I have 
 seen, that is just the question I am asking myself." 
 
 "Pray be seated," said another. "We must re- 
 lieve you from your present trying position." 
 
 Then the president, a very honest man named 
 Jourdan, with whom I afterward had considerable 
 intercourse, continued: "The order to examine you 
 immediately has been brought us by M. Sergent, 
 
IN THE VIOLON; t^V 
 
 member of the Commune ; this is why we have dis- 
 turbed your sleep and risen so early ourselves. Tell 
 us, therefore, why you are here, and who has put 
 you in prison." 
 
 I was about to answer, when I perceived my hunch- 
 back seated in a comer. The sight of him filled me 
 with distrust, and I did not know very well what 
 reply to make. After a moment's reflection — 
 
 "Can I speak in all freedom?" said I to the 
 president. 
 
 '* Yes," he returned. 
 
 " Well, that man yonder can give you a very good 
 account of all that has passed ; he might even add that 
 he is the very person who exposed me to the pikes 
 and sabres of the assassins." 
 
 At these words the hunchback intervened. 
 
 " Yes, monsieur," said he, " when I saw you there, 
 I believed you guilty ; but once I was convinced of 
 your innocence, I went and offered you my services, 
 and now I am ready to defend you against all your 
 enemies. I am a good patriot, and do not wish that 
 any one should suffer the slightest wrong." 
 
 I did not answer him, but, addressing M. Jourdan 
 directly, I said, — 
 
 " I have told a certain story to the people, in order 
 to get out of the predicament in which I was placed; 
 but I will now tell you the truth. I am an ex-cleri- 
 cal councillor of the Parliament of Paris, and I was 
 arrested in my bed, because I was the Pope's min- 
 ister, on the 27th of August, at two in the morning." 
 
 "Well, then," replied M. Jourdan, "as you are a 
 magistrate yourself, you may conduct your own ex- 
 
,'5f)2 " ; ! ?MEMOiRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 amination ; " and, pointing to a very tall man dressed 
 in black, " There," he added, " is a gentleman who 
 will act as clerk." 
 
 I gave my name, surname, etc., and suggested some 
 questions. The president put many others to me 
 himself. 
 
 " Did you go to court ? " 
 
 " Yes, every Tuesday, to the king's levee. It was 
 my duty as internuncio of the Pope." 
 
 "Were you there on the 10th of August? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Have you been especially intimate with any mem- 
 bers of the ci-devant royal family ? " 
 
 " No ; still, I saw Madame Elizabeth of tener than 
 the others, particularly in connection with religious 
 affairs,^ generally on Sunday during dinner, on Tues- 
 day, and even on other days of the week sometimes. 
 She was exceedingly pious ; her apartments were situ- 
 ated in one of the Pavilions de Flore in the garden of 
 the Tuileries." 
 
 " Have you corresponded with the Abb^ Maury ? " 
 
 " No ; but, as we came from the same countiy, I 
 thought it right to send him a letter of congratula- 
 tion when the Pope conferred several honors and 
 dignities upon him. For that matter, he never 
 answered me. I never wrote to him again, and do 
 not intend to do so." 
 
 " That is well, that is well indeed," said the presi- 
 dent. " Write," he added, turning to the clerk. 
 
 And so the examination was over ; then the presi- 
 
 * She took a great interest in them, and she was not the kind of 
 person to sign the Civil Constitution ! — The Author. 
 
IN THE VIOLON. 108 
 
 dent said to me : " Retire to a little distance ; we are 
 going to deliberate." 
 
 The deliberation, which was conducted in a low 
 voice, was soon over. 
 
 Then they recalled me, and the president said : 
 
 " Monsieur, we should have liked to release you at 
 once ; but you have seen yourself that the massacres 
 are still going on, and that it is not in our power to 
 stop them. The gates of the Abbaye are watched, 
 and if you were seen to leave under our protection, 
 you would certainly be killed, for the mob will be- 
 lieve we are trying to save you. The best thing for 
 you to do is to return and spend another night in 
 your prison." 
 
 I was utterly crushed at hearing these words ; never- 
 theless I answered, — 
 
 " I am ready to comply with your orders ; but I 
 have one favor to ask of you, — it is to allow me to 
 write a note to my faithful servant; she believes 
 tliat I was massacred, and she must be now in the 
 depths of despair. Perhaps she is dead ; for I have 
 sent her two letters by this gentleman" — and I 
 pointed to the hunchback — " and she has not ap- 
 peared." 
 
 " We are responsible," replied M. Jourdan, " for in- 
 tercepting your letters. We learned that your section 
 was very bitter against you, and we thought it better 
 you should be believed to be dead. Now that we are 
 entirely of M. Sergent's opinion in your regard you 
 have nothing to fear. Your servant will be notified 
 of your safety to-morrow morning. As for the ten 
 francs you gave this man, here they are." 
 
104 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 I refused to take them, and begged M. Jourdan to 
 let him keep them. 
 
 I immediately wrote three letters, one for H^rault, 
 another for Tornd, and the third for Rov^re, and 
 handed them to the president, who promised to for- 
 ward them to Madame Blanchet. Then, thanking 
 him, I sadly resumed the road to my prison. 
 
 As I was crossing the hall, in the wake of the 
 hunchback, I saw a poor wretch massacred. This 
 scene delayed our progress a little. But, for that 
 matter, the assassins were in such a state of fury that 
 they did not pay us the least attention. 
 
 When I was again in the prison I felt greatly re- 
 lieved, and, as it was only about two in the morning, 
 I stretched my aching limbs on the mattress again. 
 
 But in a prison, every incident creates excitement. 
 So, before I could get a chance of sleeping, my com- 
 panions were around me, asking where I came from, 
 and one of them even said : " I was sure you were 
 taking your last journey." 
 
 All the answer I gave them was : " I am very tired, 
 and have need of rest." They left me alone, and I 
 was soon asleep. 
 
FREE. 106 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 FREE I 
 
 Thirstiwo for Blood. — The Abb6 Sicard's " Courage." — 
 Death of PAre Lenfant, the Kino's Confessor. — Astonish- 
 ment : Honest Men at Last. — Masters and Workmen. — A 
 Pearl amono the Tricotecses. 
 
 But I did not sleep long. I was suddenly aroused 
 by a great noise ; it was made by some one repeatedly 
 knocking at the window of our prison. 
 
 "What is the matter? " I cried. 
 
 " The mob is approaching I " was the reply. " They 
 have learned that there are priests here whom it is in- 
 tended to save, and they want to break in the windows 
 to get at them." 
 
 I rose at once, saying : " Keep still, and leave the 
 matter to me." 
 
 On my return to the violon, I had perceived there 
 was a sentinel stationed at the door. I went and 
 rapped at it repeatedly. 
 
 " Qui Vive ? " cried the sentinel. 
 
 " There are several prisoners here, placed under the 
 safeguard of the nation and the law. Bad citizens 
 are about to make a furious attack on our windows 
 and try to force them. Be so kind as to warn the 
 National Guards — you will be rewarded." 
 
 " Do not be alarmed," replied the sentinel. 
 
106 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 A moment after, we could hear distinctly a scuffle 
 between the soldiers and the assassins, who offered 
 resistance, but were driven back. We spent the rest 
 of the night in tranquillity. 
 
 As for myself, all hope of sleep was banished, and 
 I watched eagerly for the dawn. 
 
 As I have mentioned before, I wrote certain letters. 
 Those addressed to the deputies were somewhat as 
 follows : — 
 
 "I have been brought to the Abbaye, to the very 
 place of slaughter, where I have seen sixty of my 
 companions massacred. I have escaped by a miracle. 
 Come quickly and have me liberated, for the massacre 
 is continuing, and I am not yet out of danger." 
 
 To Blanchet I said : — 
 
 " I am safe and in good health. Carry these letters 
 to their addresses, and get me out of here. Be sure, 
 above all, to go to the National Assembly, and hand 
 M. Hdrault the letter I have written to him ; he was 
 foi-merly attorney general, and you know him well ; 
 he is the president of the Assembly." 
 
 I felt calmer when I had done this. I asked for a 
 cup of chocolate, but it was detestable. Then I 
 thought I would take a walk across the prison, and I 
 entered into conversation with my companions. 
 
 The Abbd Sicard was still there ; I saw him, and I 
 felt tempted to rally him a little. 
 
 " Oho ! abbd, when are you leaving ? I thought you 
 were outside long ago I " 
 
 "I ought to be," he answered, "but no one has 
 come for me. I sent my mute ^ to the National As- 
 
 1 Massieu, one of his best pupils. 
 
FREE. 107 
 
 sembly ; he has not returned, however. So I have 
 decided to write a letter to the president, at the same 
 time asking liim to have it read from the tribune of 
 the Assembly." 
 
 He read it to me. It was the same I have since 
 seen in the newspapers. You cannot conceive a more 
 abject ^ production ; moreover, it was stuffed with 
 patriotic sentiments. Accordingly, carried along by 
 my natural frankness, I said to him : — 
 
 " What ! so that is the road you take to get free I 
 you, the man of genius ! you, ' the necessary man ! * 
 I would remain here ten years rather than write such 
 a letter as that ! Can you not have a little patience? 
 The massacre will soon be over, and they will be 
 forced to restore you to your unfortunate pupils, to 
 the children who are beseeching them to give them 
 back their father! Try and have confidence in 
 Providence." 
 
 "But," he replied, "though Providence helps us, 
 that does not prevent us from helping ourselves." 
 
 " Oh, now," I retorted, " are you really ignorant of 
 the fact that God is all powerful, — you a man of such 
 noted piety ? Was it not He who inspired the watch- 
 maker with the idea of saving you ? Was it not He 
 who gave me the coui-age to defend myself ? " 
 
 And at this point our little dialogue was broken off 
 by a cry of " There goes the king's confessor I the 
 king's confessor ! " 
 
 1 Quite too severe. But the internuncio never loses an opportunity 
 of scoffing at the Ahbe Sicard, while Sicard, in his description of the 
 massacre at the Abbaye, speaks with sympathy and respect of Mgr. de 
 Salamon. — Tk. 
 
108 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 Our curiosity was at once excited, and we looked 
 through the bars of the window. It was, indeed, the 
 Abb^ Lenfant, preacher to the king. Another priest 
 was along with him, and both were going to their 
 doom. He sat down on a chair and confessed the 
 other priest who was to die with him. He seemed 
 tranquil enough. 
 
 Astonishing inconsistency of the human mind ! I 
 was very glad to have escaped, and yet I must say 
 that I envied his lot, and began wishing I might make 
 as fine an end. 
 
 I drew back quickly, not to see him die. 
 
 It was now Tuesday, and I had no news of 
 Blanchet. I could not account for this delay. 
 "She would surely have come," I thought, "if she 
 were alive ! " This uncertainty rendered me pain- 
 fully anxious. 
 
 However, she had executed my orders. Hdrault 
 received my note, and went immediately to the Com- 
 mune and insisted that I should be speedily set at 
 liberty. 
 
 But it was for Blanchet that the consolation was 
 reserved of freeing me. 
 
 As she was returning from the National Assembly, 
 and crossing the Tuileries Garden, she met the Abb^ 
 Torn^. 
 
 " Come," said she to him, " come and save your old 
 friend. He has not been massacred, but may be at 
 any moment." 
 
 " What ! not dead ! " cried the constitutional bishop. 
 "Well, he must be saved; I will go at once and see 
 him after the session." 
 
FREE. 109 
 
 Madame Blanchet was a tall vigorous woman. She 
 seized Tom^ by the collar of his coat, and said : 
 
 " It 's all very well for you to say : * I '11 go and see 
 him — after the session.' You '11 go now, and I shall 
 not let go of you until you promise to come with 
 me." 
 
 Torn^ knew of old the temper and resoluteness of 
 this woman ; he did not care to have an unpleasant 
 scene in the very middle of the garden, with any 
 number of people looking on. He decided the best 
 thing for him to do was to follow her. 
 
 On the way, they met another deputy, who saluted 
 Tornd. Blanchet, whom nothing escaped, said to the 
 abb^,— 
 
 " You know that gentleman ? " 
 
 "Yes, he is one of my colleagues, and a friend 
 also." 
 
 " Oh, monsieur," said Blanchet, addressing the 
 new-comer, " would you not like to do a good 
 action?" 
 
 This gentleman, having been informed as to what 
 was expected of him, exclaimed , — 
 
 " Very well then, let us all go and rescue him from 
 his rather unpleasant position." 
 
 I saw them arrive on Wednesday, about eleven. 
 They were accompanied by one of the gentlemen who 
 had examined me after I was summoned out of the 
 violon, I was conducted to the same garret I first 
 entered, and the two deputies having written on the 
 register that they would be responsible for me, I was 
 at once set at liberty. 
 
 The Abbd Tomd said to me : " Go to my house." 
 
110 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 Blanchet called a carriage, and we started for the 
 hotel of the deputy. 
 
 I remained there eight days, and I must say he 
 showed me the greatest attention. 
 
 In the evening, a decree of the Commune of the 
 10th of August was handed to me. It was signed by 
 Robert, president, and Tallien, secretary. It declared 
 me free, and had been granted on the petition of 
 Hcrault de Sechelles. I was to be set at liberty 
 immediately. 
 
 I left behind me the Abbd Sicard and M. de Soldrac. 
 They were not released until Friday, after the mas- 
 sacres were over. 
 
 The Wednesday morning before I left, I noticed 
 through the window of the violon a member of the 
 Commune, in his tricolor scarf, with several bags of 
 money beside him. He was paying the assassins. 
 
 The wages of those who had " worked well," that is 
 to say, " massacred well," was from thirty to thirty- 
 five francs. A certain number had to be content with 
 
 There was one of them who obtained only six 
 francs. His labor had been considered very insuffi- 
 cient. 
 
 It was a horrible spectacle to see those wretches 
 arguing which of them had done the most butchery. 
 
 I saw also a woman, who must have been whelped 
 in hell, insult a corpse. She was astride of it, and 
 shouted : " Look how fat this dog of a calotin was ! " 
 
 I turned away, quivering with indignation. 
 
EPILOGUE. Ill 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 ThB InTEKNUNCIO 18 KAMED VlCAR APOSTOLIC FOR FRANCE. — A 
 
 Present from Pius VI. to Madame Blanchet. — Mea Culpa. 
 
 And now, madame, you have all the details of my 
 lamentable story, which I have here set down at your 
 express wish. 
 
 Your tender heart will be deeply horrified and 
 affected by this dismal narrative of an atrocious 
 butchery. 
 
 It is the record of my recollections, which I have 
 gathered together as best I could, and resembles 
 the account I sent the Pope after I was released. 
 I did not, unfortunately, keep a copy of this document ; 
 besides, in the narrative I wrote for Pius VI., I 
 described simply what occurred to myself personally, 
 and made no mention of the Abbd Sicard. When a 
 person writes to a sovereign he ought to be terse and 
 concise, and confine himself to those subjects that 
 are likely to interest his august correspondent. How 
 much more necessary was this, when I had the honor 
 of writing to the greatest of all sovereigns, the immor- 
 tal Pius VI. I 
 
 His Holiness deigned to console me in a letter 
 written under his own hand. It began with the words : 
 " Mon cher abb^ ; " all the rest was in Italian. It was 
 full of affection and tenderness. 
 
112 MEMOIES OF Mgr. SALAMON". 
 
 Cardinal Zelada also sent me an important de- 
 cree, by order of the Pope. It emanated from the 
 sacred congregation of cardinals instituted at the 
 beginning of the Revolution for the supervision 
 of French affairs, and conferred on me the title 
 of Vicar Apostolic for all France, with the most 
 extensive spiritual powers. 
 
 Pius VII. confirmed these powers, on becoming 
 Pope. They did not cease until the arrival in France 
 of a legate a latere^ who delegated to me special 
 powers for the administration of Normandy. 
 
 I will add that, a month after the massacre, 
 Madame Blanchet also received her letter from Rome. 
 It contained a bill of exchange for three thousand 
 francs on the brothers Rassuret, bankers, Rue Neuve- 
 Saint-Augustin, payable to her name. 
 
 The Abb^ Maury used to lodge formerly in this 
 street, and I suspect it was he who addressed her to 
 these bankers. 
 
 This munificence toward a plain woman of the 
 people is, perhaps, without example in the annals of 
 the court of Rome. It was the more pleasing to me 
 inasmuch as it was an evidence of the high value the 
 Pope placed on my life. Cardinal Zelada, however, 
 has never alluded to this incident in his despatches, 
 and so I have never mentioned it to him. 
 
 Doubtless, madame, your emotions have been pain- 
 fully excited by the relation of such misfortunes; 
 but a lady gifted with your piety must derive great 
 consolation from the thought that religion alone can 
 work miracles. 
 
 1 Mgr. Caprara, in 1801. 
 
EPILOGUE. 113 
 
 All these priests died with heroic resignation. 
 Not a murmur escaped a single one of them, and none 
 had the baseness to invent a lie to save himself. 
 
 On the other hand, almost all the laymen bewailed 
 and resisted their fate. There were some even who 
 died in despair. 
 
 As for myself, madame, what will you think of the 
 odd fancy I had ? At the very moment when I was 
 within an inch of death, when everything ought to 
 have become indifferent to me, I kept looking back 
 at wicked Sodom, and saying to myself: "Shall I 
 never have the chance to wear my red waistcoat ? " 
 Now notice that, up to the 10th of August, I firmly 
 refused to put off my ecclesiastical habit, and it was 
 only on the evening of my arrest that my gray coat 
 and red waistcoat were brought home. 
 
 Well, after confessing my weakness, I ought to add 
 that I did my best to banish this bad thought, and, if 
 I have sinned, you know there is mercy for every 
 sinner. 
 
BOOK n. 
 
 MY LIFE DURING THE TERROR. 
 
BOOK n. 
 
 MY LIFE DURING THE TERROR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE CHAMBEB DBS VACATIONS. 
 
 Subject of this Second Book. — Tmt States-General and the 
 Chambrb des Vacations. — Usher, A. l'audiencb ! — Vert 
 Impolite of Manuel. — Bailly and the Procession. — The 
 Affair of the Quarrtmen of Montmartrx. — The Protest 
 OF THE Parliament. 
 
 You wish me, madame, to continue the history of 
 my adventures, and relate those which have marked 
 the second period of my life. Although this period 
 has not been as terrible as the first, yet I do not know 
 but that it has caused me more vexation, weariness, 
 and torment than the former, doomed as I was to 
 wander from forest to forest around Paris for the 
 space of nine months, and with no shelter or refuge in 
 my distress. 
 
 I was condemned to death in my absence, with 
 forty-nine of my associates in the Parliament of Paris, 
 who all perished on the scaffold on Easter Sunday, 
 1794.1 ^t tjieip hesid were my two best friends, the 
 
 1 On the 20th of April, according to the Monitewr. 
 
118 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 First President de Saron and the President de 
 Rosambo. 
 
 The States-General was convened in May, 1789, 
 at the urgent and repeated demand of all the Parlia- 
 ments, and especially of that of Paris. One of its 
 first acts was to abolish the exalted magistracy which 
 had given it birth. This was, indeed, the height of 
 ingratitude. But that France might not be left with- 
 out courts of law, tribunals called "Chambres des 
 Vacations " were created in all the Parliaments. 
 
 I had the honor of being chosen by the king to sit 
 in that of the Parliament of Paris, presided over by 
 the President de Rosambo, the gentlest and most 
 merciful of men. 
 
 We did our work with heroic zeal and courage, in 
 the midst of the first turmoil and effervescence of the 
 Revolution. We were constantly threatened with 
 death, and every effort was made to force us to abandon 
 our post. Emissaries of the Revolution were ever at 
 our heels, trying to frighten us. We were told at one 
 time that we should be attacked in our seats, in the 
 very presence of the spectators ; at another, that the 
 assault would take place after we left the Palais and 
 were getting into our carriages. 
 
 There were many old men amongst us, and old men 
 are as cowardly as women. The stories told by the 
 court ushers often filled them with dismay, and I 
 frequently found them deliberating at the huvette, — 
 a little room in which refreshments were dispensed, 
 — whether they should hold court or not. M. de 
 Rosambo was sometimes undecided how to act. Occa- 
 sionally the old men got the better of him, when they 
 
THE CHAMBRE DES VACATIONS. 119 
 
 would say : " We cannot stay here any longer — we 
 get neither honor nor profit by it ; why should we risk 
 our lives ? " 
 
 I groaned at the spectacle of such irresolution. 
 But I always waited until M. de Rosambo asked my 
 opinion, a thing he never failed to do. Then I said : 
 " I think we should hold court ; the king has placed 
 us in this perilous post, and the king alone can relieve 
 us of our functions. If we must perish, it will be a 
 glorious thing to die on the fleur-de-lis^ victims of our 
 fidelity to the orders of the king. Does a soldier with 
 any sense of honor abandon the post confided to him ? 
 A magistrate ought to have as much courage as a 
 soldier. Do you march first, M. le President, I follow 
 you." 
 
 President de Rosambo did not lack courage, but he 
 required to be supported. Accordingly, as soon as I 
 had thus expressed myself with my natural vivacity, 
 he cried to the usher : " J. Z 'audience ! " The old fellows 
 grumbled between their teeth, but ended by following 
 us, and I must say that we have never been insulted. 
 Courage always awes rascals. 
 
 I ought to add that during the sixteen months we 
 sat in this chamber, we always showed a firm front, 
 and never fell into the snares that were laid for us on 
 all sides. 
 
 Manuel, the famous attorney of the Commune, used 
 to write very impertinent letters to the president, 
 gi\dng him orders, in fact. He would command him, 
 for example, to hear such and such a case. The 
 latter was annoyed at such officious intermeddling, 
 and would often ask, — 
 
120 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 " M. r Abbd, what is to be done ? '' 
 
 "Nothing, M. le President," was my invariable 
 answer. "Impertinent people do not deserve an 
 answer ; and, as to the contents of the letter, you will 
 act as you think fitting." 
 
 M. Bailly, the mayor of Paris, also tried to humili- 
 ate us, or rather to lay a trap for us. 
 
 The festival of the Assumption was drawing nigh. 
 It was usual to have a solemn procession on this day 
 in memory of the vow of Louis XIII., in which the 
 Parliament took part. The mayor did not fail to 
 invite us to be present, which was not at all neces- 
 sary. His object was to give the Commune preced- 
 ence over the Parliament. Now, this ancient body 
 had always had precedence over all others. We took 
 the matter into consideration. Many were of opinion 
 that the invitation ought to be accepted, for, in fact, 
 said they, the Chambre des Vacations was not the 
 Parliament, and could not have precedence over the 
 Commune, especially a Commune as illustrious as 
 that of Paris. 
 
 Such a proposal made me flush with indignation, 
 and, when it was my turn to speak, I said, — 
 
 " M. le President, we are the Parliament ; we have 
 all the attributes of the Parliament, and it is a point 
 of honor with us to sustain its dignity. It is the 
 first corporation of the realm, and, if it must perish, 
 let it perish while guarding all its prerogatives.— 
 They are setting a trap for us. M. Bailly," I added 
 ironically, "that modest philosopher, wishes to see 
 us in his train. I oppose such a pretension with all 
 my energy." 
 
THE CHAMBRE DES VACATIONS. 121 
 
 ** But what excuse can we give for our absence ? ** 
 cried several voices. 
 
 "This one," I answered. "I propose that, with- 
 out making any reference to the mayor*s invitation, 
 we pass the following resolution : — 
 
 ** ' The Chambre des Vacations, having considered 
 whether under existing circumstances its presence at 
 the procession in honor of the Assumption of Our 
 Lady would be advisable, and having reflected that 
 it has been appointed by order of the king to dispense 
 justice to his subjects without any interruption, 
 resolves : — 
 
 " * The Chambre des Vacations will not attend the 
 procession on the festival of the Assumption, in mem- 
 ory of the vow of Louis XIII., and it will continue, 
 with zeal and assiduity,^ to dispense justice to its 
 fellow-citizens. 
 
 " ' The aforesaid resolution will be communicated to 
 M. le Maire by M. le President.' " 
 
 My proposal was adopted; we did not go to the 
 procession, and our action met with general approval. 
 As for M. Bailly, he was very much surprised, but 
 did not venture to complain. 
 
 At other times, we received hints that it would be 
 just as well for us to imitate all the rest of the great 
 corporations of the state, and send in our adhesion 
 to the work of the National Assembly, and also 
 present it with an address of congratulation. But 
 we firmly resisted these perfidious suggestions. 
 
 As it became evident we could not be shaken in 
 our resolution, an effort was made to intimidate us, 
 by exciting a kind of revolt against us. 
 
122 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 A certain person, lately deceased, had bequeathed 
 a sum of two hundred francs to each of his workmen 
 in some quarries which he owned at Montmartre. 
 His heir wanted to have the will broken, and had 
 brought the case before the Chamber. The quarry- 
 men were present to sustain the validity of the will. 
 I was appointed to report on this dangerous affair. 
 
 The time needed for a thorough examination into 
 a matter of such importance occasioned one of those 
 protracted investigations, the necessity of which the 
 parties to a suit cannot even conceive, much less can 
 they bear them patiently. Accordingly, the quarry- 
 men imagined, or rather some mischief-makers put it 
 into their heads, that we did not intend to decide the 
 case at all, and that we purposed, by repeated delays, 
 to deprive them of their legacies for the profit 
 of the heirs, who were influential. They resolved, 
 therefore, to compel us to give judgment by force. 
 
 A rumor of these machinations reached us. Some 
 councillors were of opinion that it would be better to 
 abandon the affair altogether. It was too important, 
 they said, to be decided by the Chambre des Vaca- 
 tions. Let us declare ourselves without jurisdiction, 
 and dismiss it to the Grand Chamber, which would 
 hear it on the return of the Parliament. " Another 
 evidence of their weakness," said I to myself. So, 
 when my turn to speak came, I opposed this cowardly 
 measure. 
 
 " Messieurs," said I, " you will doubtless be irri- 
 tated because I happen to hold an opinion, although 
 I am the youngest among you, the very reverse of 
 that expressed by M. Frddy, who is the doyen of 
 
THE CHAMBRE DES VACATIONS. 123 
 
 the Parliament. I respect and honor M. Fr^dy; 
 but our enemies will regard our adoption of his pro- 
 posal as a sign of great weakness, and the quarry- 
 men as a denial of justice, since they know, as well 
 as you do, that the Parliament will never sit again. 
 The attacks on us will become more audacious than 
 ever, when we have shown ourselves so destitute of 
 manly firmness. As for myself, I am of opinion that 
 we should use all due diligence in investigating this 
 affair and bringing it to a conclusion ; and, most as- 
 suredly, I shall work at my report, in season and out 
 of season." 
 
 I reported the state of the case every day to M. de 
 Saron, our first president. He entertained a very 
 warm regard for me, and I loved him as a father. 
 Although he died on the scaffold with great courage, 
 his disposition was naturally feeble and timorous. 
 After I had spoken as related above, he said to 
 me: — 
 
 "M. TAbb^, I think you have been wrong. We 
 ought to pluck this thorn out of our foot the best 
 way we can. If the case turns out badly for these 
 workmen, you wiU be the first victim." 
 
 " I am willing to run the risk of that," I answered. 
 *' An act of weakness actually turns my stomach with 
 loathing, and to give way to revolutionists is not at 
 all to my liking. Besides, what motive have you for 
 saying that these workmen will lose their case ? My 
 present belief is that the will is perfectly regular." 
 
 " God grant it ! " he replied. 
 
 This excellent man used to give us a formal dinner 
 every week, although he was not the president of the 
 
124 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 Chambre des Vacations, in order to lessen the ex- 
 penses of M. de Rosambo, who was obliged to receive 
 us twice a week at bis table. The banquet was 
 usually on Tuesday. 
 
 Now, some days after the conversation I have re- 
 lated, we were just sitting down to dinner with M. de 
 Saron, when word came to us that the quarrymen 
 to the number of two hundred had gone to the Palais 
 in search of us, and, not finding us, they were now at 
 the house of M. de Saron, with the same object in 
 view. 
 
 At this news, there was general dismay, and one of 
 my confreres turned to me, saying, — 
 
 " See now what your giddiness and boastful courage 
 have brought upon us I " 
 
 These words stung me to the quick, and, rising 
 unceremoniously — 
 
 "Permit me," I said to the president, "to deal 
 with this disturbance myself. I am going to put on 
 my robe, which is in my wardrobe at the Palais. Do 
 you remain quietly at table, and do not allow this 
 trouble to interrupt your dinner.'* 
 
 I returned soon, garbed in my black robe. At the 
 same moment, the servant said: "Here they are I 
 they are entering the court ! " I hastened down, 
 stopping at the top of the grand staircase, so as to 
 prevent them from mounting to the apartments of 
 the First President. I could see there was a great 
 uproar in the court. The workmen were parleying 
 with the guard stationed at the door, who refused to 
 let them go further. But they forced an entrance, 
 and were already on the first step of the staircase, 
 
THE CHAMBRE DES VACATIONS. 126 
 
 when I appeared to view. My presence at the head 
 of the staircase, clad as I was in my official robe, 
 seemed to astonish them very much. " What brings 
 you here ? " I exclaimed. " Who has given you the 
 perfidious advice to come to this place in a disor- 
 derly band ? Do you believe you can intimidate the 
 magistrates of the Parliament? Undeceive your- 
 selves. They are not a bit afraid of you, and have 
 given proof of their courage in more difficult circum- 
 stances than this. As far as I am concerned, I am here 
 in your presence, and I do not fear anything you can do 
 to me, — and it is on me especially that you ought to 
 wreak your unjust fury, for unfortunately I am your 
 reporter. But be assured there will always remain 
 enough of magistrates to punish your reckless out- 
 rages, and fling the whole of you into prison. And 
 besides, what a strange method you are taking to get 
 justice done you I Don't you know that if you won 
 your suit by violence, your opponent would say that 
 the verdict was null, and it would be set aside by the 
 king ? Much better off you will be then I Let four 
 of you come up here and tell me what you want." 
 
 They listened in silence, and four of them mounted 
 the stairs. I advanced and took my place on the 
 first step, in order to force these ambassadors to re- 
 main on the second. Thus I had the advantage of 
 towering above them. " What do you desire ? " I 
 said ; " you may speak with perfect freedom." 
 
 My own servant stood, with some of the other ser- 
 vants, behind me, to defend me in case of need. I 
 recommended them to keep quiet and make no 
 movement. 
 
126 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 One of the four quariymen spoke in behalf of the 
 others. I noticed that one of his companions kept 
 his cap on his head. Striking my left arm emphati- 
 cally with my right hand, I exclaimed : " As long as 
 I wear this robe, I shall not permit any one to offer 
 it disrespect. Off with your cap, sir ! " 
 
 He doffed it immediately. 
 
 Then the other one said, — 
 
 " We have not come here to show you any disre- 
 spect, but we have been told you were unwilling to 
 decide our case, that the Parliament will never 
 return, and we might as well bid good-by to our 
 money." . ^ 
 
 "Those who told you that," I answered, "are 
 idiots. There is not a word of truth in it ; they are 
 your enemies. Have confidence in your judges.' 
 Your attorney must have informed you that a suit 
 of this sort cannot be decided in a hurry; it takes 
 time, and that is the cause exactly of all those 
 dela}^ which make you fancy you will not have 
 justice done you. Retire quietly, and await our 
 decision calmly and respectfully. The case will be 
 soon over, I assure you, and I am your reporter. 
 But remember I have not the slightest fear of you, 
 and if you do not obey me, I shall have nothing fur- 
 ther to do with it. Send also two of your comrades 
 to me in the evening. I shall present them to M. le 
 Premier President, in order that they may apologize, 
 in your name, for your audacity in daring to create a 
 disturbance within the precincts of his court. Now, 
 trust to me and retire." 
 
 The poor quarrymen, who had been simply the 
 
THE CHAMBRE DES VACATIONS. 127 
 
 tools of cleverer knaves than themselves, at once 
 withdrew, after promising to send two of their com- 
 rades to me in the evening. 
 
 I did not take time to pull off my robe, but returned 
 immediately to the dining-room. 
 
 " So there you are, my dear abb^ I " exclaimed 
 M. de Saron, when he saw me. "I perceive that 
 everything has passed off well. Come now and finish 
 your dinner in peace." But I was still excited, and 
 had no longer any appetite. I said, with a smile to 
 M. de Saron, — 
 
 " This evening it will be your turn to play your 
 part. I have to present two of our quarrymen to 
 you ; they are coming to apologize on the part of 
 their comrades, for pressing their acquaintance on 
 you without an invitation. You must be prepared, 
 then, to make them a little speech." 
 
 M. le Pr^ident would have preferred if I had 
 spared him the visit, but he consented with good 
 grace to receive them. The quanymen were faithful 
 to the appointment ; I requested M. de Rosambo to 
 be present also, and all passed off well. 
 
 Six weeks afterward, the court rendered judgment, 
 and these good fellows got their legacies. 
 
 It was this incident that gave occasion for the 
 report that I had been saved during the September 
 massacres by the quarrymen of Montmartre : it was 
 not true. 
 
 For sixteen months, we labored without interrup- 
 tion, and I may add without honor or profit, for no 
 one deigned to express himself satisfied with our un- 
 remunerated toil. Yet we got through over twenty- 
 
128 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 three thousand cases, civil as well as criminal, and it 
 fell to my share to report three thousand four hun- 
 dred of them. The president was overwhelmed with 
 requests from parties who would have no one but me 
 for reporter, because I was so affable and so quick 
 in disposing of every affair brought before me. The 
 effect of such excess of work was to drive me into 
 a sort of consumption, while, for the entire month 
 that brought our labors to an end, I was afflicted with 
 a terrible dysentery. At last, we begged the First 
 President to tell the king that it was utterly out of 
 our power to serve him any longer, that we were 
 nearly all sick, and that, therefore, it was our earnest 
 prayer he would be graciously pleased to consent to 
 our separation. He granted our petition on the 1st 
 of November, 1790. 
 
 But before separating, we resolved to leave a mon- 
 ument that should witness our principles and our 
 attachment to our sovereign. After deliberating a 
 whole night in the study of M. de Rosambo, our 
 chief, we drew up a protest against the subversion of 
 the laws of the realm, the annihilation of the royal 
 authority, and the decrees tending to overthrow the 
 rights of the clergy and nobles. This protest was 
 signed by all the members of the Chambre des Vaca- 
 tions present. It was intended to be placed in the 
 hands of the king at once, and to remain a profound 
 secret. 
 
 But, by a fatality which is to me inconceivable, 
 M. de Rosambo locked it up in a private drawer in 
 presence of his valet de chamhre, who had been in the 
 service of his family for forty years. 
 
THE CHAMBRE DES VACATIONS. 129 
 
 This old servant became suddenly smitten with 
 revolutionary principles, and, in the month of Sep- 
 tember, 1793, he denounced his master and revealed 
 the secret of the famous protest to the section of 
 Bondy, in which the Hotel de Rosambo was situated. 
 No one knows why he did so, for he loved his 
 master. 
 
 The first care of this abominable section was to 
 get a search-warrant and proceed to rummage the 
 entire Palais for the important document. Then it 
 sent its commissaries to Malesherbes in the Loiret, 
 and the whole family of M. de Rosambo, including 
 M. de Malesherbes and M. de Chateaubriand, his 
 son-in-law, were conducted to different prisons. 
 
 All the members of the Parliament of Paris com- 
 posing the Chambre des Vacations were eventually 
 seized, one after the other, and with them the p-isi- 
 dents a mortier^^ whose names were inscribed at the 
 head of the document, but who had not signed the 
 protest ; these were M. Bochard de Saron, First Presi- 
 dent, M. de Gourgues, M. de Champlatreux, and M. 
 Noiseau d'Ormesson. 
 
 1 So called from the shape of the cap ; it was made of black velvet, 
 with a gold band around it, and resembled a mortar. — Tb. 
 
130 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE WAERANT OF AKREST. 
 
 The Section op Bondy tries to seize Mgk. de Salamon. — A 
 Lady of the Ile Saint-Louis who lacked Courage. — A 
 Devoted Friekd. — A Discovery : MM. de Saron, d'Or- 
 MESSON, DE Marge, and Pasquier. — The Abbe Chaubri de 
 Beaulieu : A Magistrate who makes Stockings. — Ma- 
 dame Dellebart and her Daughter. — On a False Scent. — 
 Letter from M. de Chateaubriand to Mgr. de Salamon. 
 
 Commissaries of the section of Bondy came to 
 that of the Unity, where I resided, and asked per- 
 mission to take me within their jurisdiction. 
 
 I had been living in perfect tranquillity since the 
 massacre, and, as I took my turn at mounting guard, 
 I passed for a good citizen and felt that I was quite 
 secure. The revolutionary committee of my section 
 were unwilling to have any part in my arrest, and 
 answered that they did not know where I was living. 
 Indeed, one of them came secretly to my house, and 
 asked for me. Blanchet told him I was not in. " So 
 much the better ! " he replied. " Tell him not to 
 show himself here for some days, because the section 
 of Bondy wants to have him arrested. We really do 
 not know why." 
 
 As it has always been a custom with me to tell 
 my servants the place where I am going, Madame 
 Blanchet found me in the lie Saint-Louis, just as I 
 was sitting down to dinner. 
 
THE WARRANT OF ARREST. 181 
 
 She sent in word for me to come out to her, and 
 said, — 
 
 "The section of Bondy has a warrant for your 
 arrest, so you must not come home for a few days." 
 
 After I had dismissed her and charged her to try 
 to find out the cause of this new persecution, I re- 
 turned to table, but no longer had any appetite. Still, 
 I put as good a face on the matter as I could, for 
 the lady in whose house I was had no courage, and 
 would certainly have had an attack of the nerves if 
 she knew my danger. I stayed until dark, although 
 in a state of great anxiety, and after I left, at half 
 past eight, I wandered at haphazard, not knowing 
 where I could get a night's rest. 
 
 As I was tramping along, the idea occurred to me 
 of going to the Rue Sainte-Apolline, near the Porte 
 Saint-Mai-tin, where a rich widow lady of my ac- 
 quaintance lived, having a little hStel all to herself. 
 She was a tall, handsome woman, about fifty years 
 old, and had an excellent heart. I had only known 
 her for about fifteen months, but it was enough to 
 render her very much attached to me. She took a 
 singular interest in my stories of the massacres of 
 the 2d and 3d of September. Her sole companion 
 was a daughter, who had wished to become a nun, 
 but had returned to her mother on the suppression 
 of the religious orders.^ 
 
 Still, I felt some hesitation at the notion of enter- 
 ing at so late an hour. At this period a mere noth- 
 ing excited terror, for domiciliary visits and arrests 
 were becoming more numerous than ever. But the 
 
 1 In 1792. 
 
132 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 danger of being surprised while wandering through 
 the streets banished my scruples, and I entered the 
 house of this excellent woman. 
 
 It was her evening for receiving, and there were 
 several persons present. I saw at once that my 
 sudden arrival surprised her ; but she did not betray 
 her astonishment, for fear of creating suspicion among 
 her guests. On the contrary, she said, as soon as 
 she saw me : " Ah ! how pleased I am to meet you I 
 You must dine with me ! " When we were alone, 
 however, she exclaimed, — 
 
 "My dear friend, what has happened?" 
 
 " Alas ! madame," I answered, " I am afraid of 
 being arrested. People are speaking of several ar- 
 rests, and particularly of those of the members of the 
 Parliament. Madame Blanchet has told me not to 
 come near my own house for several days." 
 
 " Well, then, my friend," she said, wiping away the 
 tears, "you must stay here. There is a very fine 
 bedroom on the second story. I have none with me 
 but my daughter, whom you know well, and servants 
 whom I can trust." 
 
 I replied, at the same time embracing her, that I 
 accepted her offer for the moment, but I would not 
 abuse her kindness ; for, if I were to remain long under 
 her roof, it might be fatal to her. I added that it 
 would drive me to despair, if she suffered imprison- 
 ment through me. 
 
 " Let us not speak of that," she said, interrupting 
 me; "and now you must think of nothing but 
 getting a good night's rest. To-night, my daughter 
 will sleep with me, and you will have her room. We 
 shall have yours ready to-morrow." 
 
THE WARRANT OF ARREST. 183 
 
 I went out early the next morning, leaving word 
 for Madame Dellebart — such was the name of this 
 admirable woman — that she need not expect me at 
 breakfast. 
 
 I ran straight to the hotel of the First President 
 de Saron in the Rue de T University, in order to notify 
 him of what had happened. His concierge^ who, as 
 the event showed, was an abominable fellow, received 
 me with these words, uttered in tones denoting 
 pleasure, — 
 
 "He was taken to La Force at three this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 From there I proceeded to the house of M. d'Or- 
 messon. As he was in a very feeble condition, he 
 had not been dragged to prison, but he was kept 
 under surveillance. 
 
 I made several other wearisome journeys. I went 
 to M. de Marcd, councillor of the Grand Chamber, Rue 
 Michel le Comte. He had been in the Madelonnettes 
 since morning. I then called on my colleagues in the 
 Marais, one after the other. They were all in prison. 
 
 It was now four o'clock in the evening ; I had been 
 walking since eight, and was still fasting. 
 
 Nevertheless, I started from the Rue Saint-Ana- 
 stase in the Marais, and went to the Rue de la 
 Madeleine in the Faubourg Saint-Honord, where the 
 Pasquiers, father and son, resided. I found no one 
 at home but Madame Pasquier, who was very fond 
 of me. As soon as she saw me, she said : — 
 
 " You are just in time — I have a capital fowl, all 
 the way from Mans, for dinner, and you will join me 
 in eating it." 
 
134 MEMOIRS OP Mgr. SALAMOX. 
 
 " I thank you, madame, — but where is M. 
 Pasquier ? " 
 
 "He is at M. d'Aulnay's, Rue-Neuve des 
 Mathurins." 
 
 I related briefly our perilous situation, and left to 
 warn my colleague to fly. I met him in the Rue de 
 r Arcade. " For God's sake ! " I said to him, " fly ! 
 — do not return home — all our friends have been 
 arrested. Men belonging to the section were at my 
 house yesterday, and I am surprised they have not 
 been at yours. We are lost — and I am still com- 
 pletely in the dark as to the cause of our arrest." 
 
 This was the last time I saw my dear friend. He 
 was not arrested in his house, but peculiar circum- 
 stances led to his imprisonment afterward, and he 
 was guillotined with our unfortunate colleagues. 
 
 I was now utterly worn out, but I managed to drag 
 myself along from the Faubourg Saint-Honor6 to the 
 Rue Simon le Franc in the Marais, where I had been 
 already. I called on one of my friends, a clerical- 
 councillor like myself, the Abb^ Chaubri de Beaulieu. 
 I found him on the sixth story, in a wretched room. 
 He had learned a trade, and was busy making woollen 
 stockings. 
 
 " Great God ! " I exclaimed, " you take life easy, 
 and we are all in a state of anguish ! " 
 
 "I have lived unknown," he answered, "for the 
 last two years. I am supposed to be a common 
 workman, and so I have no fear. I would be in- 
 clined to wager a good deal that I am in no danger 
 of arrest." 
 
 This assumption of perfect security reassured me, 
 
THE WARRANT OF ARREST. 135 
 
 and I was thinking whether I ought not to pass the 
 night with him, when a leg of mutton, garnished 
 with potatoes, was brought in ; it had been roasted at 
 the baker's oven, and exhaled a delicious odor. 
 
 " You will dine with me," said the abb^ at once, 
 and he added, with a smile : " I call this my dinner, 
 though it is the only dish to which I can invite you." 
 
 " I accept the invitation gladly, for I have walked 
 four or five leagues to-day, and am still fasting." 
 
 I made a hearty meal, and bade him good-bye 
 about eight o'clock. 
 
 The Abb^ Chaubri de Beaulieu was never molested 
 during the entire Reign of Terror, and he is living 
 to-day in the same quarter. But he occupies a far 
 finer apartment than the one I met him in, and 
 practises as a lawyer.^ 
 
 When I reached Madame Dellebart's, at ten in the 
 evening, I found her in tears. She had imagined 
 that I must have been arrested in some street, and 
 had given up all hopes of me. I related how I had 
 spent the day, and she felt relieved ; but when I told 
 her of my long and weary journeys, she burst into 
 tears again. She was, as I have said already, a woman 
 of rare goodness of heart. 
 
 She informed me that Madame Blanchet — that 
 woman has always seemed to me to divine intuitively 
 whatever steps I took — had come in search of me, 
 although I had never given her a hint of the place of 
 my retreat. Blanchet related to her that she had found 
 
 1 The AbM Chaubri de Beanlien, like many other clerical councillors, 
 and, indeed, like a large number of the abb^s of the ancient regime, 
 was not in holy orders. 
 
136 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 out the reason for this new persecution of so many 
 eminent persons. It was caused by the discovery of a 
 document concealed in M. de Rosambo's desk, in which 
 my name figured among the rest. At the very 
 moment I heard these words, that accursed protest 
 flashed across my memory, and I could not refrain 
 from crying : " Ah, how could M. de Rosambo have 
 kept such a document ! '* But I added, in extenua- 
 tion : " He has not been able to reacln the king and 
 give it to him.'* 
 
 You can easily guess that Madame Dellebart and 
 I had a long conversation on that evening, and it was 
 two in the morning before we retired. 
 
 She conducted me herself to the beautiful chamber 
 she had prepared for me. It was an exquisitely neat 
 apartment, hung with Persian muslin. 
 
 Madame Dellebart loved fine furniture and fine 
 stuffs, but neatness and cleanliness more than either. 
 So, in this respect, her house, although rather small, 
 was a perfect jewel of a house. From hall to attic 
 everjrthing shone as if it were new. 
 
 I went to bed and slept well, indeed, much better 
 than I expected. Then, at nine in the morning, this 
 excellent lady sent me, in a little silver coffee-pot, 
 some remarkably fine coffee and cream; the cream 
 came from her farm at Pantin, formerly owned by 
 Mile. Guimard, the famous dancer at the Opera. 
 
 Her daughter was present at my little breakfast, 
 and showed me all the sympathy to be naturally ex- 
 pected from a person consecrated to God and full of 
 good feeling besides. She was, for that matter, a 
 woman of rather limited understanding, and her piety 
 
THE WARRANT OF ARREST. 137 
 
 also was of a somewhat unintelligent character. " My 
 daughter is a bigot," her poor mother used often to 
 say to me. She was twenty-seven, and very pretty, 
 but very pale. The reason she came to keep me com- 
 pany in my room was because her mother rose late. 
 
 Blanchet arrived on the same day, at about ten 
 o'clock. She appeared extremely dejected. She had 
 wept much, both on account of the danger I ran and 
 also because she had not seen me for two days. I did 
 my best to calm and console her. 
 
 However, the discovery of the protest was ever in 
 my mind, and inspired me with the liveliest anxiety. 
 I had always had a presentiment that it would be 
 fatal to us ; and when it was discussed, I was totally 
 opposed to its adoption, not through want of principle 
 or love for revolutionary ideas, but I believed it equally 
 useless, whether the Revolution continued or came to 
 an end. Nevertheless, I signed it. It was, then, only 
 by a violent effort that I could keep from appearing sad 
 and pensive, for when my thoughts are preoccupied, 
 I am naturally inclined to show it in my countenance. 
 
 Blanchet told me that the commissaries of the sec- 
 tion of Bondy had returned the day before, at four 
 o'clock in the afternoon, and were in a very bad tem- 
 per at not finding me at home. They insulted her 
 grossly, and asked where I was. Not knowing how 
 to get rid of them, she answered imprudently that I 
 had gone to the Chateau of Bonneuil on business. 
 It is unnecessary to say that this was false. The 
 scoundrels believed her on her word, marched to 
 Bonneuil, which is four leagues from Paris, turned 
 the chateau upside down, and, of course, found nothing. 
 
138 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 I did not learn of this till later, and I reproached 
 Blanchet very severely for her conduct, although her 
 motive was good, and she wished to send these wicked 
 men on a false scent. I recommended her to confine 
 herself to a simple negation for the future. 
 
 I passed my time very pleasantly with Madame 
 Dellebart, who anticipated all my wishes and attended 
 to my wants as carefully as on the first day I entered 
 her house. I sometimes departed in the morning and 
 did not return until evening, after aimlessly rambling 
 through Paris, without very well knowing where I 
 was going. Every morning, my little breakfast was 
 brought into my chamber. Blanchet came to see 
 me every other day. She related the gossip of her 
 neighborhood, and all the rumors that were in circula- 
 tion, and certainly they were not reassuring. 
 
 One day I committed a great imprudence: I re- 
 turned to dine at the house of the lady in the lie Saint- 
 Louis, where Blanchet first warned me of the peril 
 in which I stood. It was a recreation, and I needed 
 something at the time to divert me from my sad 
 thoughts. Of course, you will easily understand 
 that I did not breathe a word as to my melancholy 
 position to the lady. 
 
 When I made my appearance in the evening at the 
 house of Madame Dellebart^ she told me that she had 
 not seen my poor Blanchet, although it was the day 
 for her visit. I was very uneasy, but I did not ven- 
 ture to send any one to inquire into the reason of her 
 absence, for my messenger might want discretion, or 
 might be " shadowed " on the way back. 
 
 At length, Blanchet came at noon, the next day, 
 
THE WARRANT OF ARREST. 139 
 
 with the news that my house had been searched for 
 the third time, and that those engaged in the search, 
 after uttering the most terrible threats, left the place 
 in a perfect fury at not finding me. She handed me 
 a letter at the same time, which the wife of one of the 
 seventy-two deputies imprisoned in La Force* had 
 brought for me, offering to take charge of my reply. 
 
 The letter was from M. Chateaubriand, the brother 
 of the author, who, being under the impression that I 
 was at liberty and in no danger, wrote that he and 
 his friends were all in prison, that they had been 
 separated, and he was ignorant where M. de Male- 
 sherbes and Madame de Rosambo were confined. 
 I answered that I was myself a wanderer and an 
 outlaw, not daring to go to my home, which had been 
 searched three times ; that I was obliged to live in 
 Paris as best I could, and was absolutely ignorant of 
 what was taking place; however, I had heard that 
 M. de Malesherbes was in the Madelonnettes, and 
 Madame de Rosambo at the Anglaises. I added that 
 I despaired of being useful to him in the future, 
 because it was my intention to get away as soon as 
 possible, and I was determined to do everything I 
 could to avoid arrest. 
 
 He received my reply, but I had no further news 
 of these dear friends. 
 
 However, I still remained with Madame Dellebart, 
 who showed me all the solicitous affection that a 
 mother would show a beloved son. We had such 
 
 1 Partisans of a moderate policy. They were expelled from the 
 Legislature on the 31st of May, 1793, a date that witnessed the fall of 
 the Girondins and the inangnration of the dictatorship of Robespierre. 
 They resumed their functions after the 9th Thermidor. 
 
140 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 delight in each other's conversation that we often 
 remained, after the daughter had gone to bed, up till 
 two in the morning, relating the various incidents 
 that marked our lives. She had witnessed many 
 strange scenes in hers, and she was a born raconteuse. 
 Besides, she was familiar with fashionable society, 
 and still had persons of the highest distinction at her 
 receptions. As for myself, I had travelled extensively, 
 had frequented the best society in Paris, and, above all, 
 had witnessed the September massacres. Besides, she 
 was very much interested in politics, and had been on 
 terms of the closest intimacy with the famous Favier, 
 the great diplomatist employed by Louis XV., while I, 
 on the other hand, corresponded with a court consid- 
 ered, not without reason, the most sagacious of all the 
 courts in Europe. 
 
THE COUVENT DES ANGLAISES. 141 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE COUVENT DES ANGLAISES. 
 Blanchet Arrested. — The Section op ** Bandits." — Two 
 
 AWFDL AUVBRONATS. — ThE PRISONERS AT LeS AnOLAISES. — 
 
 Mesdames de Champcenbtz, de Soyecourt, db la Roche- 
 foucauld, d'Urtat and Duchilleau. — Their Conduct to 
 Blanchet. — Intervention of Doctor Guastaldi. — Death 
 of Blanchet's Son. — A Baker who will be Master in 
 HIS OWN House. — Mor. db Salamon interests the Duchesse 
 
 DB SULX AND MaDAMB d'AuLNAT IN BlANCHBT. — LETTERS 
 
 FROM Bomb. 
 
 However, I remained four days without receiving 
 any news of Blanchet. Her absence caused me much 
 distress and fear. Madame Dellebart shared my 
 anxiety, for she had become very fond of Blanchet, 
 and never spoke of her without adding : " That ex- 
 cellent woman ! " We had a presentiment — which 
 turned out only too true — that she was arrested. 
 
 After mature deliberation, we decided that Madame 
 Dellebart should send Francois, her confidential ser- 
 vant, to the Rue des Augustins, to make inquiries in 
 the neighborhood of my house, and particularly of 
 the woman who kept the bakery opposite. 
 
 Francois was perfectly successful. Madame Blan- 
 chet had been dragged out of the house on New 
 Year's Day, at four in the morning, and all she was 
 
142 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 allowed to take with her was the clothes she wore. 
 The section had seized my plate and money, that is to 
 say, fifteen hundred francs in specie and two thousand 
 in assignats, had affixed seals to my apartments, and 
 had stationed two guards in my kitchen and hall, who 
 were to receive five francs a day. But he could not 
 discover where they had taken Blanchet. All he was 
 able to learn was that they tore away her son, a boy 
 of fourteen, from her arms, and flung him into the 
 street, where he would have been frozen to death on 
 that cold winter's morning, had not the baker given 
 him shelter. Francois had been warned also to be 
 careful not to mention where I was. 
 
 You can easily imagine my consternation at these 
 tidings. Madame Dellebart, her daughter, and I were 
 in such a state of grief that we could not dine ; in- 
 deed, we did not even think of sitting down to table. 
 
 I spent the following fortnight in trying to find out 
 the prison where she was confined ; but all my efforts 
 were unavailing. 
 
 However, she was, as I learned afterward, lying, at 
 this very time, on a wretched mattress in a lock-up 
 belonging to the section of Bondy, in the parish of St. 
 Laurence, weeping as if her heart would break, and 
 suffering dreadfully in body as well as in mind. 
 
 Her amazement and terror, when she was suddenly 
 startled out of sleep and saw her bed surrounded by 
 armed men ; her horror at being dragged half-naked 
 through the streets ; the chilling cold of one of the 
 severest nights in winter ; the agony of being separ- 
 ated from her only son, the last of nine children, — 
 all this affected her to such a degree that she fell 
 
THE COUVENT DES ANGLAISES. 143 
 
 seriously ill, and was for three whole weeks on the 
 brink of the grave. 
 
 In spite of her condition, these barbarians ahvuys 
 kept her in sight constantly, as if, indeed, there was 
 any chance for the poor woman to escape ; and their 
 presence, as she confessed to me afterward, was a 
 greater torture to her than all her other sufferings. 
 They even spied on her and put questions to her 
 during her sleep, in the hope that they might wrest 
 from her some hint as to the place in which I was 
 concealed ; but she never uttered a word. 
 
 At last her vigorous constitution triumphed, and 
 she was restored to health, but after a long convales- 
 cence. 
 
 There was in the section of Bondy — Blanchet 
 called it the section of " bandits " ^ — a revolutionary 
 committee composed of abominable men. Two of 
 them were especially noteworthy for their infamy, 
 two loathsome creatures from Auvergne, named 
 J^rdme and Baptiste. These wretches were the 
 immediate cause of the death of nearly two thou- 
 sand persons. They often came to torment Blan- 
 chet with their questions. When they had worn 
 out her patience, she said to them sternly in Pro- 
 vencal, which is very like Auvergnat : " Yes, I know 
 where he is, but you shall never know. He will live 
 to have you both hanged, and all people of your 
 sort." 
 
 These words so frightened the savages that they 
 took to their heels immediately. 
 
 1 The French pronunciation of " bandits " is so near that of Bondy 
 as almost to excuse Blanchet's pun. — Tr. 
 
144 MEMOIRS OF Mgk. SALAMOK 
 
 At length, as nothing could be got out of her, they 
 imprisoned my stout old housekeeper in the convent 
 of Les Anglaises, Rue des Fosses-Saint-Victor.^ 
 
 This poor woman, the victim of her loyalty to her 
 master and to the good cause, suffered many humilia- 
 tions in a place where she might have expected con- 
 solation and encouragement. 
 
 She was given a wretched mattress in the room of 
 Madame de Champcenetz. This charitable dame, 
 furious at seeing her apartment invaded by " com- 
 mon people," as she said, gave fifty francs to the 
 keeper to remove Blanchet. 
 
 Yet Blanchet's virtues might have excited the 
 respectful compassion and sympathy of this haughty 
 lady. 
 
 It must be admitted, however, that her external ap- 
 pearance at the time was not calculated to inspire 
 confidence, for she had only just recovered from a 
 grievous illness, and her convalescence advanced but 
 slowly in a prison where she was deprived of every- 
 thing. Then, her clothing was almost in rags, for she 
 had, as I mentioned already, been dragged from bed 
 at four in the morning, and not given time to take 
 anything with her except what was under her hand. 
 
 She was pitilessly chased, then, out of Madame de 
 Champcenetz' apartment, and banished to a garret, 
 which had no windows, but only shutters, in which 
 she was exposed to every wind that blows. 
 
 Seeing herself abandoned by everybody, and being 
 absolutely in want, she decided, in her despair, to lay 
 
 1 The Convent of English ladies of the order of St. Augustine is 
 to-day at Neuilly. 
 
THE COUVENT DES ANGLAISES. 145 
 
 her case before Madame de Soyecourt, rUe Princesse 
 de Nassau-Sarrebruck, without, however, mentioning 
 the cause of her detention, for fear of injuring me. 
 This lady was under the greatest obligations to me. 
 I made her acquaintance at a time when she was 
 sunk hopelessly in debt. All her property had been 
 sequestrated, and her creditors wished even to seize 
 her pension. She appealed to the Parliament to make 
 at least provision for her subsistence. I was appointed 
 her reporter, and I treated her as I thought a princess 
 should be treated, for I was the means of getting a 
 decree passed which granted her a pension of four 
 thousand francs, and this pension was placed out of 
 the reach of her creditors. Blanchet saw her more 
 than once at my house, and witnessed the cordial re- 
 ception I always gave her. Accordingly, she thought 
 she would make bold to ask her for a little soup. 
 Madame de Soyecourt received her haughtily, saying : 
 " Citoyenne Blanchet, I have not enough for myself." 
 Blanchet retired, all in tears, when luckily she ran 
 up against M. Guastaldi, a countryman of mine, and 
 also my physician. He was passing without noticing 
 her, for, indeed, she was little better than a skeleton. 
 Blanchet believed he was avoiding her purposely. 
 So she placed herself in front of him, and, seizing 
 him rather roughly by the arm, exclaimed : " So you, 
 you abandon me also ! " Guastaldi recognized her 
 immediately, and cried : " What ! Blanchet ! you 
 here ! " After she told him what had happened to 
 her, he turned back to the ladies. " You have a trea- 
 sure in this house," said he, — "a treasure you have 
 thought unworthy of your notice until now. This 
 
 10 
 
146 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 Blanchet is one of the most estimable women in the 
 world." 
 
 Then, every one was in a hurry to help her, — even 
 Madame de Champcenetz, who gave her fifty francs. 
 Madame Duchilleau never ceased, as long as she was 
 spared, to show her the most tender affection ; in fact, 
 if Blanchet had permitted it, she would have made 
 her a present of everything she had brought with her 
 into the prison. Madame de La Rochefoucauld, who 
 had been deserted by her maid, also treated her with 
 much kindness. Blanchet became very much attached 
 to this lady ; she tended skilfully the leg-sores from 
 which she suffered, and obtained a number of little 
 delicacies for her from the keeper, — chocolate, for 
 example. 
 
 Pardon me, madame, all these details; they are 
 unimportant enough, and can have but little interest 
 for you, but the history of Blanchet is so closely con- 
 nected with mine that I must speak of her. 
 
 As I have already related, her imprisonment was 
 the source of much sorrow to Madame Dellebart, as 
 well as to me. 
 
 We were informed, in course of time, that, besides 
 my plate and money, two beautiful clocks and six- 
 teen hundred of my choicest books had been carried 
 away from my house ; the books were scattered among 
 the public libraries. 
 
 To resume the thread of my adventures, I went to 
 the residence of Madame de Senozan, sister of Ma- 
 dame de Malesherbes, and the best and most estimable 
 woman in the world. Sentries were stationed in 
 front of the gate, to watch those who entered her 
 
THE COUVENT DES ANGLAISES. 147 
 
 hfttel; but I made my way in by a secret staircase, 
 without any one noticing me, except the concierge,, 
 and he used to see me coming every day to the house 
 formerly. 
 
 As I was describing to her the sad events that had 
 occurred during the last few days, she interrupted 
 me, saying : " I know everything, perhaps more than 
 you do ; the child of this poor woman has been trans- 
 ported to the Hospice de la Charity, and has, for the 
 last three dajrs, been lying between life and death." 
 She added that she sent her servant Comtois every 
 day to inquire after him. 
 
 He died the next day of brain fever, calling with 
 heart-rending cries for his mother and his master. 
 
 I felt the loss of this young man excessively, and 
 at the present day I never think of him without sor- 
 row. He was a remarkably clever youth, and I was 
 beginning to employ him as secretary, even for my' 
 Roman correspondence ; for, though he was scarcely 
 fourteen, he showed a discretion beyond his years. 
 
 Madame de Senozan also informed me that her 
 brother, nephews, and nieces were all now reunited 
 at Port Royal, which had been changed into a prison 
 and called Port Libre. 
 
 I left her, feeling the utmost compassion for her 
 many misfortunes ; it was our last meeting. 
 
 I returned to Madame Dellebart's in the evening 
 with these melancholy tidings. I did not stir out 
 of her house for six days after. On the seventh, I 
 determined to pay a visit to Madame la Vicomtesse 
 d'Allemane, who was then living at Versailles, with 
 whom I had been very intimate. She, too, was a 
 
148 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON". 
 
 prisoner in her own house, under the surveillance of 
 two keepers. She had not been dragged to prison, 
 owing to a certificate of ill health which I had per- 
 suaded Doctor Guastaldi to give her. I made known 
 to her my doleful situation, and begged her to send 
 her valet de chamhre to the baker-woman who lived 
 opposite my house, to inquire whether there were any 
 letters for me. 
 
 I learned afterward that the commissaries, finding 
 out that this woman took charge of my correspon- 
 dence, had come to the shop to seize it, just at the 
 very moment when the valet de chamhre was carry- 
 ing it away in safety. 
 
 Two of these letters were from Rome, and one of 
 them contained a cheque on the Italian banker Caccia, 
 Rue Saint-Denis. It was for three hundred Roman 
 crowns, and was to be paid me in specie. 
 
 I went there early the next day ; but the banker, 
 through fear of compromising himself, refused to cash 
 my cheque, and this embarrassed me very much. 
 
 The other letter was from the Cardinal Secretary 
 of State; it was full of consolation and encourage- 
 ment, and showed the deep interest his Eminence 
 took in me. I had found means, in fact, to make 
 him acquainted with my distressing situation. As I 
 was not able to procure the necessary books, I had 
 also requested him to ask the Pope to dispense me 
 from reading the breviary. His answer was that the 
 Pope granted me all the dispensations I needed, and 
 recommended me to use every precaution to avoid 
 arrest. 
 
 On the next day I went to see the Duchesse de 
 
THE COUVENT DES ANGLAISES. 149 
 
 Sulx, "whom I had the honor of knowing. She lived 
 in the Rue des Saints-Pferes. She was not in prison, 
 because, as she had resided only a short time in this 
 quarter, she was but little known in the neighbor- 
 hood. I begged her to go to the prison of Les 
 Anglaises and inquire about Blanchet, also to carry 
 her sugar, coffee, and an3rthing else she might desire. 
 She accepted the commission willingly, and visited 
 the prison, dressed as a servant. As she was slim 
 and active, the distance did not frighten her; be- 
 sides, she was a charitable, good-hearted woman. 
 She often went on the same journey; but, after a 
 time, she told me that the door was shut against 
 everybody, and Blanchet had been taken to another 
 prison. I thanked her from the bottom of my heart. 
 I did not see this virtuous woman again until fifteen 
 years afterward. 
 
 In this fashion I went knocking at every door, 
 with the view of softening somewhat the afflictions 
 my poor Blanchet had to endure. The same purpose 
 led me to the door of Madame d'Aulnay. She lived 
 in the Rue des Mathurins, and was an extremely 
 charitable woman. For a wonder, she was never 
 incarcerated during the entire Revolution. I re- 
 quested her to hit on some plan by means of which 
 I might be able to convey two hundred francs to 
 Blanchet. She promised to do so, and succeeded, 
 employing as her agent one of those roving peddlers 
 who seem capable of making their way anywhere 
 and everywhere. 
 
150 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THROUGH PARIS. 
 
 Mgb. Salamon leaves the House of Madame Dellebart. — 
 — His Hostess in the Rue Paradis. — An ex-Abb^ becomes 
 Professor in a Medical School. — A deplorable Fellow- 
 countryman. — The Fine Shirt and the Old Bordeaux of 
 the Jacobin. 
 
 I HAD been wandering up and down Paris for 
 about a month, but had continued to take my meals 
 at Madame Dellebart's, when one day her daughter 
 said to me, — 
 
 " Fran9ois has told mamma that two men have been 
 asking whether there was not a stranger here, but 
 mamma does not want you to know." 
 
 I thanked her for intrusting me with this important 
 secret, which, I observed, I should turn to account at 
 once. "In fact," I answered, "one of two things 
 must have happened : either this is true, and I ought 
 to move out as quickly as possible ; or it is false, and 
 then it is clear the servants are tired of my presence. 
 Perhaps, too, they are afraid — and not without 
 reason — that I may compromise their mistress. 
 Who knows but some day or other they may say as 
 much to myself, without meaning to hurt me ? So, 
 in any case, it is my duty to leave you." 
 
 The religieuse was in despair at having told me. 
 She dreaded a scolding from her mother, but I soon 
 brought her to her senses. I spoke to Madame 
 
THROUGH PARIS. 151 
 
 Dellebart in the evening of my resolution ; she raised 
 all kinds of objections, and pressed me earnestly to 
 stay with her. 
 
 It happened at the time that there was a lady in the 
 house who was her particular friend. This lady and 
 her husband caught some portion of our conversation, 
 and invited me to spend the night with them. I 
 accepted the offer gratefully, but, I must add, to the 
 great annoyance of Madame Dellebart. 
 
 I started out at midnight with my new hosts. 
 They crossed the boulevard, entered the Faubourg 
 Poissonnidre, and conducted me to the Rue de Paradis. 
 
 It did not take me long to perceive that the good 
 lady was in far greater alarm than I was. She intro- 
 duced me into the house with the greatest caution, 
 looking this way and that, and murmuring every 
 second : " Good God ! we have been seen I " Then 
 she showed me into a tiny little room under the roof, 
 in which I did not close an eye the whole night, for 
 they seemed to be making a racket all the time below 
 stairs. Accordingly, I left very early in the morning, 
 without giving notice to any one, and I have never seen 
 my hostess since. 
 
 It will strike you as an odd circumstance that I had 
 all the time found a lodging in that very section of 
 Bondy which persecuted me. 
 
 I resumed my wanderings through Paris. I did 
 not know very well where to go, when, on passing 
 through the Rue des Cordeliers, near the Ecole de 
 Medicine, I perceived a young man whom I thought 
 I recognized. I was not mistaken. 
 
 He was a priest of my native town, son of an 
 
15^ MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAM0:N-. 
 
 apothecary, and I had known him formerly ; his name 
 was Audin Rouviere. 
 
 I approached him and said, — 
 
 " I believe, monsieur, I have seen you somewhere." 
 
 " The very impression you make on me also," he 
 answered. 
 
 " You would not happen to be the Abb^ Audin ? " 
 
 " Ah, monsieur," he said quickly, " do not pro- 
 nounce that word 'abb^.' I am a professor in the 
 Ecole de M^decine, and I live in the entresol you 
 see yonder." 
 
 I told him, in my turn, that my name was so and so. 
 
 He begged me to enter his lodgings, with many 
 demonstrations of friendsliip. When we were seated, 
 I said, — 
 
 " I thought you were chaplain at the Hospice." 
 
 " Did you now ? " he answered, bursting into a roar 
 of laughter. " As if there were any chaplains left ! 
 But tell me what are you doing yourself ? " 
 
 "You know well that I was clerical councillor in 
 the Parliament, and I am very much afraid I may be 
 arrested." 
 
 "In that case, you had better remain here, — the 
 devil himself would never find you out in this hole ! 
 Our concierge is a regular wine-barrel, and there is no 
 danger from him. Here is a key; you can come in and 
 go out when you like." 
 
 I took him at his word, and accepted his offer. 
 
 The entresol was almost devoid of furniture, and 
 there was no sign of any servant whatever. " Well," 
 said I to myself, "I have at last found a lodging 
 where I am not likely to be disturbed for some time ! " 
 
THROUGH PARIS, 153 
 
 He showed me into a small closet, where there was 
 a little pallet stretched on rough planks ; there was a 
 bed-quilt, and that was all. '* I shall not be badly off 
 here," I said to him. 
 
 He brought me a large sheet, however, which I 
 made up into a kind of pillow, thinking myself very 
 lucky to have something to rest my head on. 
 
 But when I had lain down, I felt the air blowing in 
 on me from all directions, and I was regularly frozen 
 throughout the night, owing to the want of bed- 
 clothes. 
 
 I slept very badly then. 
 
 But my companion would have kept me awake in 
 any case. He cried out in his sleep like a madman, 
 now uttering exclamations in Latin, now in French, 
 and jumping and tossing about furiously. 
 
 At seven in the morning, he left his room, making 
 a great noise as he did so. He appeared again at half- 
 past eight. " I have been giving my lesson," he said 
 to me. 
 
 He asked had I slept well. " Ah I *' I answered, 
 " how could you expect me to sleep well, considering 
 the sad situation in which I am placed ? " 
 
 We breakfasted on nuts. Then he went out, and 
 returned with a few small fishes, which were to com- 
 pose our dinner. 
 
 When it was dark, I made my way to Madame 
 Dellebart, and informed her of my new domicile. 
 She entreated me to, at least, dine with her every 
 day ; but I told her it would be the greatest impru- 
 dence for me to consent. 
 
 When I returned, I met my young professor, who 
 
154 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOX. 
 
 was enthusiastic over Hs profession. He was in love, 
 he said, with a niece of Dr. Portail, who did not 
 know he was a priest and invited him once a week 
 to dinner. He confided to me that he intended to 
 marry her. 
 
 " But you seem to have forgotten that you are a 
 priest ? '* 
 
 " Oh ! " he answered, " you are still imbued with 
 those foolish prejudices, are you ? " 
 
 " Do not speak in that way," I answered. " Por- 
 tail will never give you his niece." 
 
 " But I assure you the doctor thinks a lot about 
 me. He has me to dinner every Sunday. And, as 
 for his niece, I am fairly wild to get her." 
 
 I thought to myself : " I pity the poor girl, if she 
 marries you ! " 
 
 I learned eventually that the affair had gone very 
 far, and he had been on the point of having her ; but 
 Dr. Portail discovered he was a priest, and showed 
 him the door. 
 
 I passed my time, then, tranquilly, though sadly, 
 in my new home, thinking myself very fortunate to 
 have this little retreat instead of being in prison. 
 The ex-abbe cooked our meals himself; they gener- 
 ally consisted of fish fried on the gridiron, though 
 occasionally we had a leg of mutton, with a plentiful 
 seasoning of garlic. We spent the evening playing 
 draughts, a game to which my companion was pas- 
 sionately addicted ; I had barely an idea of it, yet I 
 won often enough, which gave him a high idea of my 
 capacity. I judged thereby that he was not much of 
 a player himself. It was a terrible bore to me, spend- 
 
THROUGH PARIS. 156 
 
 ing two hours at a stretch in such a childish occupa- 
 tion ; but» of course, it was necessary to keep in the 
 good graces of my host. 
 
 Our nights all resembled one another. He leaped 
 and tossed about in the queerest way. Sometimes 
 he would thunder out phrases from his lessons, and 
 sometimes passionately implore the favor of his 
 inamorata. 
 
 As sleep was impossible, I turned and turned in 
 my bed, where, as I have stated, I had not sufficient 
 covering, and was often chilled through. 
 
 I had been ten days in the apartments of my de- 
 plorable compatriot, when a man entered unceremo- 
 niously. The concierge had left the door open by mis- 
 take, and I was not able to hide myseK so quickly 
 as not to be seen. 
 
 It was the cousin of my host. 
 
 His first words to him were : " Who is that man ? " 
 I did not very well hear their conversation after this, 
 but my entertainer had the weakness to confess every- 
 thing. 
 
 " You are a dead man," said his cousin to him. 
 "If this man is discovered with you, you will be 
 guillotined along with him for a dead certainty ! " 
 
 He was gone at last, and I perceived that Rouvidre 
 was quite upset. I asked him who the man was, and 
 added : " Evidently, my presence here is beginning to 
 frighten you." 
 
 " He is my cousin. But no, I am not frightened, 
 not at all." 
 
 "Oh, I beg your pardon. If you have told him 
 who I was, he must surely have tried to alarm you as 
 to the consequence of having me here." 
 
156 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAM0:N'. 
 
 "Well, then, you have guessed the truth! He 
 told me if you were found in my apartments, I was 
 sure to be guillotined along with you. But no matter, 
 I am not afraid." 
 
 " He has told you nothing but the truth, my dear 
 fellow," I answered, " and I have made up my mind 
 to leave you; for, without meaning any harm, he 
 might mention to one of his friends that I am here*" 
 
 I set out the same evening, and related my adven- 
 ture to Madame Dellebart. She said immediately : 
 
 " Well, you see now you must stay with me. We 
 are accustomed to each other's ways. Don't be 
 alarmed : nothing will happen to either you or me, I 
 assure you — Why," added this excellent woman, 
 whom I had known for only a little over a year, 
 "why, since your departure, the house has looked 
 empty ! " 
 
 I embraced and thanked her again and again. 
 
 But in the midst of those perpetual alternations 
 of fear and hope, I had not the consolation of accept- 
 ing the offers of my friends, knowing that such 
 acceptance on my part would endanger their lives. 
 
 " No, no," I answered, " I must wander wherever 
 my fortunes direct me. And you will not see me 
 again more than once a week, and then only when I 
 am sure the coast is clear." While I was uttering 
 these words she wept bitterly. 
 
 Nevertheless, I consented to stay during the night, 
 and I left the next morning at daybreak. 
 
 All this time, I had no news of Madame Blanchet, 
 and found it impossible to discover the prison in 
 which she was detained. 
 
THROUGH PARIS. 167 
 
 I proceeded next to the Rue Cassette, to find the 
 husband of the woman who had aided Blanchet in 
 her search for me among the dead bodies at the 
 Abbiiye. He was a Jacobin, and therefore, I thought, 
 likely to have access to the prisons, and to be able to 
 discover where they had put my faithful old servant. 
 
 When I knocked at the door, he was stiU asleep ; 
 but he heard me after a time, and came and opened 
 the door. He was in his shirt sleeves, and I noticed 
 that this same shirt was made of the finest Holland 
 linen. Yet he was but a poor carpenter, and, to add 
 to that, a professional drunkard. In fact, he had 
 killed his wife by his ill treatment. 
 
 He received me with effusive good nature, and ran 
 to dress himself in order to talk with me. He began 
 by pressing me to take something. I answered that 
 I did not come for eating or drinking, but to get 
 news of my poor Blanchet, the friend of his deceased 
 wife. 
 
 " WeU, we can eat a bit, for all that ; it won't pre- 
 vent us talking," and the tears came to his eyes. 
 
 I did not venture to decline a share of his break- 
 fast, for fear of offending him ; but I was in dread he 
 might offer me some of his wine, which was sure to 
 be bad, and bad wine I cannot abide in the morning. 
 So I sat down to breakfast, and he placed a large 
 black bottle immediately on the table, a bottle corked 
 and sealed too. Good gracious ! it was Bordeaux ! — 
 then some beef, which looked appetizing enough for 
 an epicure. 
 
 I ate more than I should have believed possible, — 
 indeed, more than I ought. The wine was delicious. 
 
158 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 I said to myself : " Decidedly, he never came by that 
 shirt and that bottle honestly I " But you may be 
 sure I kept my suspicions to myself ! 
 
 At last, I explained to him the cause of my visit. 
 When I told him that Blanchet had been arrested, he 
 wept copiously. 
 
 "Ah!" he cried, raising his overflowing eyes to 
 heaven, " she was the friend of my defunct ! — I 
 loved her from my heart, although she had the mis- 
 fortune to be an aristocrate.''^ 
 
 ^'Aristocrate or not," I answered, " I want you to go 
 into all the prisons and find out where she is now." 
 
 He promised, and arranged that we should meet in 
 two days* time at his house, in the evening. I left, 
 feeling quite happy at the thought that Blanchet 
 would soon have news of me, and I should have news 
 of Blanchet. 
 
THE INTERNUNCIO LEAVES PARIS. 169 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE INTEKNUNCIO LEAVES PAKIS. 
 
 ThB iNTBBmTKCIO LSAYXS PaBIS. — " PaRDON MB, I HAVB MADE ▲ 
 
 Mistake!" — Nights in the Open Air. — A Hermit Canon. 
 — The Internuncio's Council: MM. Joli, Lb Moynb, and 
 GiRABD, Authob or "Lb Comtb db Valmont." 
 
 I WALKED mechanically along the Seine, as far as 
 the ficole Militaire, and reached the bastions raised 
 on the side of the hill called La Montagne des Bons 
 Hommes, or La Montagne de Passy. 
 
 The keeper of the bastion said to me politely : " If 
 you have no certificate of civism you cannot pass by 
 here, unless you are willing to accompany me to the 
 barrier of the guard house." 
 
 I thanked him, and descended toward a little street 
 which passes through the park of the Princesse de 
 Lamballe.^ I crossed the Rue Basse and the Rue de 
 rfiglise,^ and found myself near La Muette (a villa 
 of the king) without having any real consciousness 
 of where I was going. 
 
 I remembered then that Madame Pasquier and her 
 children had a suite of apartments close by, in which 
 I had given the nuptial benediction to her eldest son, 
 who married a widow, Madame de Rochefort. 
 
 1 Now the asylum for the insane kept by Dr. Blanche. 
 
 2 Now the Rue Berton and the Rue de TAnnonciation. 
 
160 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 I went tHther on the spot, but was thunderstruck 
 at seeing a sentinel before the door, who shouted at 
 me : " What do you want ? " I turned on my heels, 
 answering quickly : " Pardon me, I have made a 
 mistake." 
 
 After this rebuff, I rambled here and there 
 through the Bois de Boulogne, watching for some 
 spot where I could spend the night with as little 
 inconvenience as possible. The place that offered 
 most chances of comfort was the kiosk in which 
 the inhabitants of Auteuil dance on Sundays. I 
 returned there late in the evening, when the lights 
 were out in the cottage of the gamekeeper, who lived 
 quite near. I stretched myself on the floor, after 
 placing a bundle of straw under my head; I had 
 picked it up in the meadows, where the people who 
 are in the habit of leading their cows for pasture into 
 these quarters doubtless had brought it for a seat. 
 
 I fell asleep, but my slumbers were often inter- 
 rupted; I sometimes started up, fancying that my 
 hospitable shelter had been discovered. 
 
 Later on, I found another place which was comfort* 
 able enough ; it was near the Villa Bagatelle, close 
 by the Pyramid, and not far from Madrid, where I 
 used to come very often, when M. de Rosambo re- 
 sided there. 
 
 In fact, this was the reason that made me select the 
 Bois de Boulogne in preference to the other woods 
 around Paris. I knew nearly all its windings. 
 
 The next day, I returned to Madame Dellebart's; 
 she shed tears on learning where I had passed the 
 night. She declared I must stay with her, not only 
 the rest of the day, but the night also. 
 
THE INTERNUNCIO LEAVES PARIS. 161 
 
 I yielded, especially as I should be nearer my Jaco- 
 bin friend, whom I was to see on the morrow. 
 
 In fact, I kept my appointment with him to the 
 minute. He informed me that Blanchet was still at 
 Les Anglaises, in the Rue des Fosses-Saint>Victor. 
 He assured me also that he had warmly recommended 
 her to the keeper of the prison, and had asked him to 
 furnish her with soap and coal. 
 
 After hearing this good news I left Paris and went 
 to Saint-Cloud, with the intention of taking some 
 refreshment — I was frightfully hungry — in one of 
 the wretched inns of that village. 
 
 I slept during the night under the arch of a bridge, 
 on the straw which the women who came to wash 
 there left behind them. 
 
 On the fourth day I returned to Madame Dellebart's 
 in the evening. She had been bitterly anxious about 
 me, and when she saw me enter, looking altogether 
 woe-begone, with my hirsute beard of several days' 
 growth, she could not restrain her emotion, and 
 melted into tears. 
 
 I told her all that had occurred since my last visit, 
 and particularly what I had learned about Blanchet. 
 She promised to send Francois the next day to her 
 with sugar, coffee, and even money if she needed it. 
 
 I said that this was hardly necessary, because I gave 
 her, when I saw her last, fifteen hundred francs in 
 assignats and twenty-five louis-d'or. 
 
 However, I was afterwards informed that the sec- 
 tion of Bondy had deprived her of the assignats, but 
 did not discover the gold, which she had hidden 
 under her clothes. 
 
 11 
 
162 MEMOIRS OF Mge. SALAMO^N". 
 
 Notwithstanding the urgent entreaties of Madame 
 Dellebart, I left her on that very evening, but prom- 
 ised to see her on the Tuesday of each week and 
 remain the whole day. Only on this condition would 
 she let me depart. She gave me a little bottle of 
 Malaga wine, and stuffed my pockets with bread. 
 
 I did not start until very late, and I had an object 
 in this delay : I wished to be at the barrier just at the 
 moment when the washerwomen leave the city. As 
 I wore a carmagnole^ they took me for one of their 
 lads, and I followed in their train, luckily without 
 any one asking for my certificate of civisme. It 
 would have embarrassed me considerably to present 
 it, as I happened not to have any. 
 
 I availed myself constantly of this expedient to 
 get out of Paris, and it was always successful. 
 
 On this evening, 1 made for the kiosk of Auteuil, 
 and as some one had appropriated my straw, I lay 
 down on a heap of dry leaves. It rained during the 
 night, but I was not as uncomfortable as might have 
 been expected. 
 
 I spent the following day in the Bois de Meudon. 
 The weather was fine. While strolling around I met 
 a man who was busily engaged in gathering herbs. 
 We entered into conversation, and it did not take 
 long for me to see that he was disguised. I asked if 
 he was living in the neighborhood of Paris. 
 
 "Yes," he answered, "I am somewhat like the 
 Wandering Jew, — I cannot say exactly that I am 
 pursued, but, on the whole, I feel more comfortable 
 outside Paris than in it. I roam about the forest 
 every day, picking up herbs, and am beginning to be 
 
THE INTERNUNCIO LEAVES PARIS. 168 
 
 quite handy at it I travel, in this way, about six 
 leagues a day, and eat only in the evening, when I 
 return to Passy, where I lodge." Feeling more con- 
 fidence in me after a time, — honest people soon learn 
 to know one another, — he told me his name was Joli ; 
 he had been canon of Sainte-Genevifeve and preceptor 
 in the family of M. de Mdgrigny. He had a keen in- 
 tellect, talked to the point on every subject, and was 
 specially interested in politics. 
 
 I was not quite so confidential in the beginning ; 
 but when I had sounded him thoroughly, I confessed 
 my identity, and ever after he treated me with much 
 respect. 
 
 We were now often in each other's company, and I 
 sometimes consulted him on certain points. 
 
 In fact, I am often distrustful of my own capacity 
 for dealing with matters of high importance, and I 
 like to seek the advice of intelligent people ; not that 
 I always take it, but I am quick to see whether it is 
 good or bad, and so am enlightened on a subject. 
 
 After some days, we conversed at length on eccle- 
 siastical affairs. He recommended several priests to 
 my notice, and even wished to present some of them ; 
 but I refused, and simply granted the dispensations 
 he asked in their behalf. I also decided for him cer- 
 tain cases of conscience and the validity of a number 
 of marriages.^ 
 
 I could not, however, neglect to see M. Le Moyne, 
 grand vicar of Chalons, a relation of M. Thierry, the 
 king's valet de chamhre. I was acquainted with his 
 
 1 One of the most thorny questions connected with the canon 
 law of this period. 
 
164 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 reputation for wisdom and talent, and knew that he 
 might be able to render me considerable services. 
 
 With these two gentlemen and the Abb4 Girard, 
 author of the " Comte de Valmont," ^ of whom I shall 
 have to speak soon, I formed a little ecclesiastical 
 council. Having been charged, as I have said, with 
 all the ecclesiastical affairs of the realm by Pope 
 Pius VI., and being endowed, so to speak, with the 
 plenitude of his power, I had the greatest need of 
 assistance ; and it has always been a source of sincere 
 satisfaction to me that I gave my confidence to these 
 gentlemen, for they were men of good counsel. 
 
 We held our meetings in some corner or other of 
 the Bois de Boulogne or in the neighboring woods, 
 and, occasionally, even in the apartments of the Abbd 
 Le Moyne. 
 
 Thus God, who is the Sovereign Master of all 
 things, bestows on men the means of doing His work 
 in the most difficult times ; and, in fact, religion was 
 better observed at that dangerous period than it is 
 now. 
 
 1 Usually spelled Gerard. The *' Comte de Valmont " was a con- 
 troversial romance, very popular in the latter part of the 18th and 
 the beginning of the 19th centuries. It went through fifteen editions 
 on its appearance. The author had been a profligate and an infidel 
 in his youth, and the work is partly autobiographical. — Tr. 
 
IN SEARCH OF A LODGING. 165 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IN SEARCH OF A LODGING. 
 
 Thb Decbee against the Nobles. — The Intebnuncio hits ow 
 A Plan. — The Intbuded CcBt or Passt. — A Pobtbait of 
 AN Old Maid. — Madame Gbandin's Gabbet. — Sobbowful 
 Pabtino. — Motheb and Dauohteb. — The Honest Pebbu- 
 QuiEB. — A Ladt fbom Home. — An Alabm. 
 
 In this way, I roamed about for three days, having 
 no shelter, and Hving entirely on potatoes, which an 
 old beggar-woman of Boulogne, with whom I left a 
 store of them, cooked for me. I could not get bread, 
 for, without a certificate of civism, no baker would 
 seU me any. 
 
 I went, according to promise, every Tuesday to 
 Madame Dellebart's. I arrived at daybreak, and 
 snatched an interval of repose before she left her 
 couch. As usual, her daughter and I breakfasted in 
 my room, and the excellent coffee and cream tasted, as 
 you may well imagine, delicious after my lenten fare. 
 
 However, the horrors that tracked the whole course 
 of the Revolution were increasing. The decree banish- 
 ing the nobles from Paris was passed,^ and it became 
 necessary for me now to act with greater caution thau 
 ever. 
 
 1 On the 16th of April, 1794, according to the " Moniteur Universel." 
 
166 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 I announced to Madame Dellebart that it would be 
 impossible for me to visit her again. This news drove 
 her wild with despair, and we embraced, weeping, as 
 if we were looking upon each other for the last time. 
 
 I had no more assignats, and the banker Caccia 
 had, as I have mentioned already, refused to cash 
 my bill of exchange for three hundred Roman crowns. 
 Although he would have made an enormous profit by 
 paying me in assignats, he said my name should have 
 to appear on his books, and, if discovered, it would 
 lead him to the guillotine. His excuse was valid 
 enough, but, as we are always naturally prone to 
 attribute bad motives to others, I ascribed his refusal 
 to ill will. Later on, I complained of his conduct, 
 and he lost the valuable privilege of being banker 
 to the court of Rome. 
 
 I ought to add that it would have been easy for 
 him to slip a little money into my hand, a thing I 
 entreated him to do ; but he declined, and this made 
 me suspect him of duplicity. 
 
 My position was assuredly critical enough ; I had 
 not a sou about me, there was no one to whom I could 
 appeal for aid, not even Madame Dellebart, al- 
 though she had repeatedly pressed me to accept her 
 kind offers. 
 
 In fact, I have been actuated by one principle dur- 
 ing my whole life, and that is, never to borrow from 
 my friends, and never even to hint to them that I 
 needed their assistance. 
 
 Luckily, there were some of my potatoes left, and I 
 was sparing of them, to make them last the longer. 
 
 But the wandering life and the nights in the open 
 
IN SEARCH OF A LODGING. 167 
 
 air, during which I was sometimes exposed to the 
 rain and always to the cold, wore me out at last. 
 
 As I have spoken of the cold, I may mention that 
 although it does not take much to make me feel 
 chilly, I did not suffer excessively from it at this period. 
 In fact, I was the fortunate possessor of a carmagnole 
 made of very thick stuff. It looked like camlet on 
 the outside, but it was lined, the sleeves as well as 
 the body, with fur that was exceedingly warm. My 
 flaming waistcoat was .as comfortable as it was charm- 
 ing. The trousers were equally so, and both my socks 
 and boots were thick. The latter pinched me at first, 
 but after a time became quite easy. 
 
 I asked M. Joli if the people in Passy were very 
 wicked, and what was going on in this village. 
 
 " People are pretty much the same there," he an- 
 swered, "as everywhere else. The same method of 
 terrorizing the inhabitants is adopted, persons are 
 dragged out of their houses from time to time, and 
 some of these have been executed. The Revolu- 
 tionary Committee is made up of scoundrels, of 
 workmen in the quarries mostly. However, the 
 municipality, although very patriote, is not fond of 
 arrests, and no one is arrested without its permission. 
 Accordingly, there is no danger except during the 
 sessions of the municipality, which are held in the 
 evening. A lantern is placed at the door of the hall, 
 and when it is extinguished, that is a sign that the 
 meeting is over." 
 
 All these details suggested a scheme to me by 
 which I might, possibly, obtain a lodging in Passy. 
 At least, I might take a rest when the municipality 
 
16a MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 was not in session. But I did not breathe a word of 
 this to M. Joli. 
 
 I recollected that at the time I went to Passy to 
 marry M. Pasquier in 1793 — he is at present Pre- 
 fect of Police ^ — in the house of some of his relatives 
 who had taken refuge there, his mother, Madame Pas- 
 quier, one of the most pious and virtuous of women, 
 invited Mademoiselle Girard, sister of the author of the 
 " Comte de Valmont," to be present. She also informed 
 her that the internuncio of the Pope would perform 
 the ceremony. Mademoiselle Girard, who was equally 
 pious and virtuous, was glad to have the opportunity 
 of showing me the respect she entertained for me, 
 and even consulted me on a certain ecclesiastical 
 affair. But I am one of the least inquisitive of in- 
 dividuals, and not at all fond of talking, so I ne- 
 glected to ask her name, and was now absolutely 
 ignorant of it. Yet I said to myself, as I was making 
 my way to Passy : " If I could only know the name 
 of that woman I saw at Madame Pasquier's, I am sure 
 she would do me a service. These pious women are 
 full of resources." 
 
 I entered Passy with the determination to find her. 
 I walked along a part of the main street, next took 
 the Rue Eglise, and reached the Rue Basse. As I 
 was turning to the left, conducted I am sure by my 
 angel guardian, I perceived in front of me an indi- 
 vidual in very shabby clothes, whom I judged to be 
 an ecclesiastic. I was not mistaken, — it was the 
 
 1 This passage enables us to fix the date of the composition of the 
 Memoirs, at least approximately. M. Pasquier was Prefect of Police 
 from 1808 to 1812, and Madame de Villeneuve died in 1812. 
 
IN SEARCH OF A LODGING. 169 
 
 intruded cur6 of the parish. I advanced toward him, 
 and, after saluting, said : — 
 
 ** I must take the liberty, monsieur, of asking you 
 a rather strange question ; but if you belong to Passy, 
 you can certainly answer it. Do you know where I 
 can find a lady, rather aged, somewhat humpbacked, 
 very little, lean, and ugly, with a yellow complexion, 
 and — very pious ? '* 
 
 "Monsieur," he replied, "you could not hit on a 
 better person for the information you require. I am 
 the cur^ of the parish, and the person you seek is 
 Mademoiselle Girard. Yonder is her house." 
 
 I thanked him, and, without further compliments, 
 went and knocked at the door he showed me. I 
 asked for Mademoiselle Girard. " She has gone out," 
 was the answer, " but her brother the abbd is in." 
 I begged to be introduced to him. 
 
 The abb^, who was naturally very timid, was ren- 
 dered even more so by my sudden entrance. Con- 
 sidering the time in which we lived, the appearance 
 of a man clad as I was, was enough of itself to 
 alarm him. It is hardly necessary to state that I 
 did not give my name. As for the questions I put 
 to him, he contented himself with answering simply 
 that his sister had gone out, and he did not know 
 when she should return. He did not even offer me 
 a chair. 
 
 I was about to rid him of my presence, when Made- 
 moiselle Girard arrived. 
 
 In spite of my disguise, she recognized me imme- 
 diately, and received me with much respect and 
 amiability. Upon this, the Abb^ Girard, although 
 
170 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 he did not yet know who I was, for his sister did 
 not take time to inform him, apologized with great 
 fervor. 
 
 " You cannot think how glad I am to see you ! " 
 repeated Mademoiselle Girard, over and over again. 
 "What can I do for you?" 
 
 I was very careful not to inform her of my cruel 
 situation; I might have terrified her, for, at tliis 
 epoch, a man pursued by revolutionary justice was 
 an object of dread. I said simply, — 
 
 " You know who I am. The nobles have been ex- 
 pelled from Paris, and I am afraid of being arrested. 
 Could you not find me a room in which I might take 
 refuge ? I don't care of what sort it is ; if it is only 
 a garret I shall be well pleased." 
 
 " You may be sure," she said, " I shall do whatever 
 I can, with the greatest willingness. But you must 
 dine with us first. After that we will discuss the 
 matter." 
 
 Dinner was served at two exactly; it was frugal, 
 but what there was of it was good. I remember par- 
 ticularly an excellent turkey patty, wherewith the 
 abb^ had already regaled himself. In short, we dined 
 well and at considerable length ; but I did not feel at 
 all gay, and I noticed with anxiety that Mademoiselle 
 Girard did not appear to be in any hurry to hunt 
 after a room for me. 
 
 At last she rose, saying : " I am now going to work 
 for you." 
 
 An hour after, she returned in liigh spirits. " I 
 have found a room for you, though, indeed, it is 
 but a wretched garret, open to all the winds, for 
 
IN SEARCH OF A LODGING. 171 
 
 there are no windows, only shutters. On account of 
 the arrival of the nobles, it is very hard to get lodg- 
 ings, and what you do get are very liigh. They want 
 two hundred francs a month for this attic. But 
 though you won't be very comfortable, you will at 
 least be safe. The landlady is a noted sharper. Her 
 husband, however, is a municipal officer, a great 
 patriote^ not a bad man for that matter. He is very 
 close, and you must pay in advance." 
 
 I was profuse in my thanks to Mademoiselle Girard. 
 I was so glad to have at last found a place where I 
 could lay my head. The necessity of paying in ad- 
 vance disturbed me a little, for, as I have said, I had 
 not a sou in my pocket. 
 
 But, as I could not pay with cash, I paid with ef- 
 frontery, and I said: "I accept the terms; let us go 
 and see the room, however." And taking leave of 
 the Abb^ Girard, I went, in company with his sister, 
 to call on Madame Grandin. 
 
 I found a woman polite enough, but who chattered 
 like a parrot. She was all airs and graces, with the 
 view evidently of having me take her for an arts- 
 tocrate. She had her trouble for her pains, though, 
 as I received her advances in silence. 
 
 The chamber provided for me was on the fourth 
 story, and you had to climb up to it by a wooden 
 ladder. Although I did not expect anything very 
 choice, I was ready to sink all in a heap when I saw 
 where I had got to lodge. There was no ceiling, — the 
 beams of the roof took the place of it. Three planks 
 stretched across a frame, with a wretched pallet and 
 a mattress as hard as a rock, formed the bed ; and the 
 
172 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 rest of the furniture consisted of a little shaky wooden 
 table and two straw chairs. 
 
 Nevertheless, I put a good face on the matter, and 
 I said with a smile, — 
 
 " I am perfectly satisfied, and shall come to-morrow 
 evening at eight." 
 
 As we were descending the stairs, Madame Grandin 
 remarked: "I must beg of you, monsieur, to bring 
 some sheets. As for earnest money, I do not ask any, 
 because Mademoiselle Girard knows you." 
 
 A narrow escape, for a time at least, as I had no 
 money; but, without betraying the slightest embar- 
 rassment, I said, in a free and easy tone: "Well, 
 then, we '11 leave it for to-morrow ! " 
 
 I bade good-by to Mademoiselle Girard and started 
 immediately for Paris, in order that Madame Delle- 
 bart, whom I had not seen for ever so long, might 
 have news of me. 
 
 I entered her house at eight in the evening. Her joy 
 and surprise at seeing me were so great that she was 
 nearly fainting. Her daughter also had an attack 
 of the nerves, but it was from fear. She was a little 
 bit of a coward, and did not at all resemble her mother. 
 
 Madame Dellebart was enchanted to learn that I 
 had a room at Passy. "Ah, so much the better!" 
 she exclaimed ; " you will no longer live like a wild 
 beast, — you, the most sociable of men ! " 
 
 She ordered dinner for me, and we remained talk- 
 ing, as usual, up to two o'clock in the morning ; she 
 had sent her daughter to bed at ten. I gave her a 
 long account of how I had spent the time since our 
 separation. 
 
IN SEARCH OF A LODGING. 173 
 
 We also stayed together the next day, and then, 
 although I had not asked her for anything, she said : 
 
 " Now that you have found an asylum, I wish to 
 give you everything you may need." 
 
 She made up a bundle containing sheets, napkins, 
 two shirts belonging to her deceased husband, pack- 
 ages of coffee and sugar, two neckties, and a bottle of 
 Malaga wine. 
 
 She desired to have Franqois carry it for me, but I 
 refused the offer. 
 
 At nightfall, I set out with my bundle, and a 
 heavy one it was, from the Rue Sainte-ApoUine, near 
 the Porte Saint-Martin, for Passy. 
 
 I was so little accustomed to carry a load that I 
 had to stop every moment, now shifting it on my 
 shoulder, now changing it from my right arm to my 
 left. When I reached the Place Louis XV.,^ I was 
 all in a perspiration. 
 
 I made my way along the Seine by Challot. I 
 should have then turned to the right, by the Mon- 
 tague des Bons-Hommes ; but, as I trudged wearily 
 on, I was full of sad thoughts, and yet of the necessity 
 of appearing quite content with my situation, with 
 death in my soul and not a sou in my pocket ; in 
 fact, I was utterly distracted, and went on straight 
 before me. 
 
 It rained, and the night was as dark as it well 
 could be. 
 
 The sides of this road are frightful when it has 
 rained; I sometimes sank up to my knees in the 
 mud. Indeed, I narrowly missed stretching my full 
 length in the gutter. 
 
 1 At present, the Place de Concorde. 
 
174 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 However, when I had come up near the Point-du- 
 Jour, I saw I was on the wrong path. 
 
 Fortunately, a launderer was passing at the same 
 moment. 
 
 " Am I far from Passy ? " I shouted to him. 
 
 "Passy, indeed! you have passed it long ago. 
 Turn back and walk until you come to a lantern; 
 then go to the left, and you will reach the Montague 
 des Bons-Hommes." 
 
 I was so exhausted that, at the thought I had still 
 more than half a league before me, I fairly burst 
 into tears. 
 
 At length I arrived at Madame Grandin's. It 
 was after eleven, and I and my bundle had been on 
 the road since eight. 
 
 When I encountered my hostess, she was in a very 
 bad humor. 
 
 "It is anything but like a gentleman to keep 
 people out of their beds as you are doing. A nice 
 hour indeed! And now you come into my decent 
 house all daubed with mud ! more like a beggar than 
 anything else! A carriage does not cost so much, 
 and, with that bundle, you needn't have been so 
 stingy," etc. 
 
 I did not utter a word. After all, my arrival at 
 such an hour and in such a pickle was not calculated 
 to give the good woman a very high idea of me. 
 
 But her daughter, who was nineteen, and who was 
 very attentive to my wants afterward, took my part. 
 
 " How you do treat this man, whose condition 
 ought to excite your pity ! " she said to her mother. 
 " It would be better for you to let him warm himself 
 and to offer him something to eat." 
 
IN SEARCH OF A LODGING. 175 
 
 " I thank you from the bottom ol my heart," I an- 
 swered gratefully. "But I do not need anything; 
 beg your mother to have some one show me my 
 room." 
 
 She then turned to the servant, and I heard her 
 saying : " Conduct him to his chamber and make his 
 bed. He is, perhaps, some poor SmigrS in hiding." 
 
 There the convereation ended, and, following in 
 the wake of the servant, I climbed up the ladder and 
 was in bed immediately. 
 
 But I slept badly, and was up early. 
 
 As I was crossing the hall, I met the young girl 
 again. She was tall, with veiy beautiful eyes, but 
 her demeanor was rather reserved. " I am very 
 glad," said I, " to find you alone, in order to teJl you 
 how deeply I have been affected by your kindness 
 yesterday evening. Please try and interest your 
 mother in my favor ; assure her that I shall return 
 early this evening, and in better shape than when she 
 saw me last." 
 
 After I left the house, I saw a perruquier's shop 
 very close by, and entered. 
 
 I had myself shaved and my peruke powdered. I 
 put on a new necktie I had taken out while dress- 
 ing ; in short, I looked like an honest man at last. 
 
 When I entered the perruquier's I forgot I had not 
 a sou in my pocket-book, and it was only when I 
 had completed my toilet that I recollected the cir- 
 cumstance. 
 
 " Great heavens ! " I exclaimed, " I have forgotten 
 my pocket-book ! But wait a moment, I lodge near 
 by with Madame Grandin; I '11 return immediately." 
 
176 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 "Don't take the trouble, monsieur," replied the 
 perruquier ; " you can pay on your next visit." 
 
 I went on this day to the village of Neuilly, then 
 to Courbevoie. 
 
 As I was passing in front of the chateau of Madrid, 
 whom should I meet but the Marquise d'Eutelx, a 
 native of the Comtat, like myself, and one of my best 
 friends ! Her own name was de Graveson, and she 
 was the daughter of the Comtesse de Vogud. 
 
 She had taken refuge at Neuilly, when the decree 
 against the nobles was passed. 
 
 She was delighted to see me, especially as in the 
 absence of her husband, who was a general in the 
 armies of the Republic, she was very lonely. She 
 insisted that I should stay in her house, and would 
 not hear of me leaving. 
 
 But I refused firmly, although regretfully. Very 
 lucky it was for me I did so, for I soon learned the 
 Committee of General Safety had ordered the arrest 
 of all the nobles in Neuilly. 
 
 But I could not decline dining with her, and we did 
 not separate until a little before night, when I had to 
 return to Madame Grandin. 
 
 This time, my hostess was in the best of tempers. 
 She invited me to warm myself, and even offered me 
 refreshments. 
 
 "Thank you, madame," I answered. Then, ap- 
 proaching a delicate subject : " I have not forgotten," 
 I continued, " that I have to pay you for my lodging 
 in advance ; but I should like the citizen your hus- 
 band to be present, as I wish a receipt." 
 
 "Oh, oh!" exclaimed Madame Grandin. "The 
 
IN SEARCH OF A LODGING. 177 
 
 citizen my husband won't appear in a huny, — he is at 
 the Commune, swilling his wine, or amusing himself 
 with his trollops. You can pay when you like." 
 
 This was enough; I hastened to say good-night, 
 and was soon in bed. 
 
 Still, this absolute dearth of money was a great 
 affliction. I was afraid, if I did not settle my account 
 as I had promised, I should get the character of a 
 vagabond. 
 
 I presented myself next morning at the Abb^ 
 Girard's, to pay him a visit and thank his sister. 
 She said to me : — 
 
 "Madame Grandin likes you very much, but she 
 complains that you are too shy, and she never gets a 
 glimpse of you, except when you are passing out 
 You would confer a great favor on her by spending 
 an odd evening in her parlor." 
 
 " Very well," I answered, " I promise to do so with- 
 out fail." 
 
 But I was fully determined in my own mind to do 
 nothing of the sort ; for Madame Grandin, I repeat 
 it, was as loquacious as a duenna, and was a shrew 
 besides. 
 
 It ought to have been enough for her to know that 
 I was a priest, as Mademoiselle Girard told her. 
 
 However, after a little reflection, I thought I would 
 keep my promise, for this evening at least, and I 
 remained with her for some time. 
 
 Her daughter was quite amiable. She told me she 
 had recommended me to her father, whom I had not 
 yet seen, and had added that if any misfortune hap- 
 pened to a person staying in the house, she would be 
 
178 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 inconsolable. Her father told her not to be uneasy. 
 Those who lodged in his house — he might have said, 
 " Particularly those who pay well " — did not run any 
 risk. 
 
 Madame Grandin asked me how I liked my room. 
 
 " Not very well," I answered ; " but a person has to 
 be content with what he can have." 
 
 " Oh, well," she said, doubtless confused at making 
 me pay so dear for such a hole, " you can have a room 
 on the third story, which will soon be vacant, at the 
 same price." Then she continued, in a mysterious 
 tone, " We have been greatly alarmed this evening. 
 The Revolutionary Committee has ordered several 
 places to be searched, particularly the chateau of La 
 Muette. My husband, being a municipal officer, had 
 to take part in the search. They wanted to come 
 here, but Grandin showed his tricolor scarf and de- 
 clared he would allow no one to enter his house. It 
 is rumored they are on the lookout for an abb^ who 
 is of noble birth, and formerly held a position at the 
 Palais." 
 
 " Ah ! " said I to myself, "it is I whom they seek. 
 I am lost ! Is his name known, madame," I asked ; 
 " has he been discovered ? " 
 
 " No, very fortunately," she replied. 
 
 I had no longer any desire to sleep in my chamber 
 that night, and I left the house as quickly as I could, 
 without saying anything to Madame Grandin, except 
 to request her for a key. 
 
 She gave me one immediately, adding, however, 
 that there was no need of it, as, on account of the large 
 number of her lodgers, the house was never closed. 
 
IN SEARCH OF A LODGING. 179 
 
 I spent a frightful night. I was too anxious, be- 
 cause of the news I had just received, to think of 
 lying down ; instead, I took my post at the comer of 
 the wood by the cross-road of Mortemart, to see if 
 the lamp of the Revolutionary Committee was still 
 lighted, and to wait until it was extinguished. 
 
 It was lighted, and was not extinguished until five 
 the next morning. 
 
180 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A WEEK OF CHECKERED FORTUNES. 
 
 "Do YOU KNOW AN OlD WoMAN NAMED MaKIANNE ? " — CiTIZEN 
 
 Grandin. — M. DE LA Feuillade. — The Internuncio does 
 HIS Cooking and holds his Council in the Thickets of the 
 Bois DE Boulogne. — A Botanic Promenade with M. Jussieu 
 IN THE Bois de Meudon. — M. Collet, ex-President or San 
 Domingo. — Blanchet gives as good as she gets. — A Hard- 
 ened Young Scapegrace. — The Thunderbolt falls. 
 
 The want of money had become an absolute torture 
 to me. 
 
 Luckily, I had informed my Swiss correspondent, 
 who resided at Saint-Maurice in the Valais, that the 
 banker Caccia had refused to give me any money, 
 and that I was terribly embarrassed. In his answer, 
 he told me to try and find his old nurse, giving me 
 at the same time her address. 
 
 She was an admirable old woman of seventy-five, 
 named Marianne, and was entirely devoted to the 
 service of God and her neighbor. She resided near 
 the Rue Saint^Bertin-Por^e, in a lane running into 
 the Place de Gr5ve ; but he had neglected to mention 
 the number, or, perhaps, it dropped from my memory. 
 
 As it was still early and the weather was bad, I 
 thought I could not do better than make a search 
 for this good woman. 
 
A WEEK OF CHECKERED FORTUNES. 181 
 
 It took me a long time to find the street, and, when 
 I had discovered it, it took me a still longer to find 
 the house. Every time I asked, " Do you know an 
 old woman, named Marianne?" the invariable reply 
 was, " No, we know nothing of her." At length, I 
 decided to enter every house, and search every stoiy. 
 You can easily guess that the same thing happened 
 to me which happens to other searchers in similar 
 circumstances. I did not find the old lady until I 
 had climbed nearly every staircase in the street, one 
 after the other, so that I was completely out of 
 breath. 
 
 In this way, I reached the third last house on the 
 right, which I entered. 
 
 I think I went up above the fifth story, and, per- 
 ceiving in front of me two worm-eaten doors, nearly 
 side by side, I knocked at the first, almost mechani- 
 cally. 
 
 It was opened by an aged woman. 
 
 I asked her if her name was Marianne. "Yes,'* 
 she answered, and, after looking at me searchingly: 
 " Enter," said she. Then she walked quickly to an 
 old buffet, opened a drawer, and took out a large letter,, 
 which she handed me. 
 
 I asked her if she had need of anything. 
 
 " I have need of nothing," she replied. 
 
 I thanked her, and immediately ran to Madame 
 Dellebart's, intending not to leave Paris until nightfall., 
 
 It was, in fact, much easier for me to come in thau 
 to go out. I found Madame Dellebart very ill. My 
 presence gave her some relief, and she listened with 
 pleasure to the tale of my adventures. 
 
182 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 I opened the letter : it contained two assignats of a 
 thousand francs each. 
 
 I blessed Providence, which did not abandon me, 
 and I thought of nothing but returning to Passy and 
 paj^ng Madame Grandin. 
 
 After a substantial dinner, I took my leave, as soon 
 as it was dark. 
 
 " We have been terribly anxious about you," said 
 Madame Grandin, " two days having passed without 
 your putting in an appearance." 
 
 " It is true, madame ; but I had business in Paris, 
 and I have been there since. Perhaps," I added, 
 "you were also alarmed about your money. — Here 
 it is." 
 
 And I threw upon the table two assignats of a 
 hundred francs each. 
 
 Just at this moment, M. Grandin entered. He was 
 a taU man, abrupt in his manner, and passably brutal. 
 
 " Ah ! " he said, " so it is you, citizen ? I 'm sorry 
 I have not seen you before. I am so busy at the 
 Commune that I have not a moment to myself. By 
 the way, you have been now several days in my house, 
 and I ought to present you to the Commune ; you 
 can come with me to-morrow evening." 
 
 This announcement struck me with consternation. 
 I knew every one was obliged to present himself and 
 show his certificate of civism; but I believed that, 
 through the intervention of Mademoiselle Girard, 
 I had been exempted from the ordeal. 
 
 Taken at a disadvantage, I answered that I was 
 very tired, my papers were in Paris, and I ended by 
 asking for two days' grace. 
 
A WEEK OF CHECKERED FORTUNES. 183 
 
 I left the house on the spot, in order to complain to 
 Mademoiselle Girard. 
 
 *' I consented," I said to her, " to jmy two hundred 
 francs a month on your assurance that I should be 
 protected from all persecution. If that assurance had 
 no value, I had better go away. I am sorry, all the 
 same, though, that I paid my two hundred francs." 
 
 Mademoiselle Girard did her best to calm me. 
 
 "Try to keep cool," she said; "I will arrange 
 all this." 
 
 In fact, I heard no more about the matter afterward. 
 
 In consequence of the decree against the nobles, 
 a large number of persons had taken refuge at Passy, 
 and more were coming every day. This influx was 
 a source of great anxiety to me, for it increased the 
 risk I ran of being recognized. I concluded, therefore, 
 it was my wisest plan to avoid the village in the 
 daytime, and not return till night, when I could see 
 whether the lamp of the Revolutionary Committee 
 was extinguished or not. 
 
 But I was never to be free from vexations. 
 
 Madame Grandin was ravenous after money, and 
 found it convenient to forget she had promised me a 
 better room at the same price. She even had the 
 cheek to say to me one day : — 
 
 " I have been at an awful loss by letting you that 
 attic; I could get three hundred francs for it at 
 present." 
 
 As I made no reply, she continued : " How lucky 
 you have been ! You will not be obliged, like the 
 rest of the nobles, to have your name inscribed at 
 the Commune and to present yourself every evening 
 at seven, because you came here before the decree." 
 
184 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SAL AMOK 
 
 "Pray, madame," I asked, "who has told you I 
 am a noble ? " 
 
 " Nobody told me ; but it did not take me long 
 to guess. Your manners betray you in spite of your 
 coarse dress." 
 
 " Well, then ! " I answered, " be good enough to 
 keep your suspicions to yourself." 
 
 Her daughter, who perceived my embarrassment, 
 immediately interfered. 
 
 " Mamma," said she, " what does it matter to you 
 whether the gentleman is a noble or not ? — You had 
 better be careful not to hint anything about this to 
 papa. You know he does not like nobles, and he is 
 always quarrelling with M. de la Feuillade." 
 
 M. de la Feuillade, in fact, occupied a chamber in 
 the house, but I had always done my best to avoid 
 meeting him. 
 
 He had a trusty servant, however, who used to 
 watch for the moment when I was alone in my attic. 
 Then he would come to me and ask whether I needed 
 anything. And yet this honest fellow had never 
 seen me until now. 
 
 I told him I was quite comfortable. Still, I missed 
 my soup badly. 
 
 I therefore procured a little portable stove and a 
 saucepan, which I carried with me, tied to a button 
 by a string. I bought the necessary ingredients, such 
 as carrots, celery, and all sorts of vegetables, from the 
 women who used to peddle them in the village. Then, 
 when I perceived there was a public distribution of 
 butter in the places through which I passed, I took 
 my station at the end of the line and got now and 
 
A WEEK OF CHECKERED FORTUNES. 185 
 
 then a half-pound, and occasionally even a pound of 
 butter. Still, I sometimes waited a whole hour, and 
 came away with my hands empty. 
 
 I then withdrew to the most remote part of the 
 wood, lit a fire with a flint and some brambles, cooked 
 my vegetables, and had, I assure you, a first-rate dish 
 of soup, at but small expense. 
 
 Three years ago I broke my stove, and I cannot 
 tell you how sorry I felt. As for the saucepan, I 
 have it still, all but the handle. 
 
 When the coast was sufficiently clear, I ventured 
 on purchasing a little cruet, made of coarse earth- 
 enware, so that I might have the means of mak- 
 ing a salad, of which I am very fond. I have kept 
 it also, and it is not the least precious of my 
 possessions. 
 
 These two objects recall my misfortunes to my 
 mind. They are also a standing proof of how very 
 little we really need in order to live. 
 
 Nevertheless, I was not forgetful of the grave 
 interests with which I was charged. 
 
 From time to time I called my council together ; 
 it was now composed of the Abb^s Le Moyne and 
 Girard. I no longer cared to have M. Joli present. 
 He was talented enough, but his knowledge of eccle- 
 siastical affaii's left much to be desired. Then he 
 was too much of a scholastic, too much of a theorist 
 for my fancy ; I am not fond of theories. — Give me 
 morality. He was also too impulsive to be a sound 
 guide in the administration of ecclesiastical affairs. 
 Besides, the smaller the number the better I liked it. 
 Still, I occasionally consulted him. 
 
186 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOX. 
 
 One day, I ran up against M. Jussieu ^ in the Bois 
 de Meudon. He was followed by all his pupils, 
 among whom were several women. I joined the 
 band, listened with great interest to the entire lesson, 
 and went to dine with them at Sevres. We had a 
 capital repast, and coffee at the finish — I had almost 
 forgotten the taste of it, — all for the modest sum of 
 an assignat of five francs. During the whole time, 
 nobody seemed to take any notice of me. 
 
 I felt very much fatigued toward evening; but 
 for all that, I was unable to reach my attic before 
 eight the next morning.^ 
 
 On the next day, when rambling in the neighbor- 
 hood of Auteuil, I perceived a very aged individual 
 coming toward me, whom I thought I recognized. 
 
 It was, in fact, M. Collet, ex-President of San 
 Domingo. He was eighty years old. He and I had 
 formerly been rather intimate. 
 
 When I approached him, he exclaimed : " You are 
 the very man I have been seeking. I dine every 
 Tuesday with my cousins at Auteuil, and I have just 
 met Madame d'Aulnay there. She informed me 
 that you were in the Bois de Boulogne, and charged 
 me, should we meet, to say that the affair of the 
 Parliament is taking a good turn, and you need not 
 be alarmed." 
 
 All the relatives of this lady were in prison, ac- 
 cused of signing the protest, so I thought she must 
 be well informed, and I gave credit to her message. 
 
 1 The celebrated naturalist. 
 
 2 On account of the lamp of the Municipal Council, which remained 
 lighted. 
 
A WEEK OF CHECKERED FORTUNES. 187 
 
 And yet matters were, in reality, worse than ever. 
 
 I might have been a little more distrustful, for I 
 knew of old that Madame d*Aulnay liked to look at 
 the bright side of things. 
 
 Still, I must confess I felt very much relieved for 
 the time. 
 
 I took advantage of the opportunity to ask the old 
 man to try and see Blanchet at the prison of Les 
 Anglaises ; he was well acquainted with her, and I 
 had had no news of my dear old friend for a long 
 time. 
 
 He promised willingly. When I saw him again, 
 however, about a week afterward, he said that no one 
 was allowed to hold any communication with her, but 
 that she was in good health. 
 
 Other details I have since learned from Blanchet's 
 own lips. 
 
 The length of her imprisonment completely wore 
 out her patience toward the end. Besides, she had to 
 endure trials and mortifications of all kinds. 
 
 For instance, Madame la Duchesse d'Anville La 
 Rochefoucauld found a pleasure in rallying the old 
 woman, and said to her one day, — 
 
 " Citoyenne Blanchet, you will be guillotined just 
 the same as if you were one of us ! " 
 
 " I know it is very likely," retorted Blanchet. " But 
 there is this difference between us: I shall die for 
 your cause, the cause you have deserted; and you 
 will die, you may be quite sure of it, although you 
 have espoused the cause of the * patriots.' Your death 
 will be more degrading than your life. Nobody will 
 pity you, while aU honorable people who learn my 
 
188 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 sad fate will weep for me. I have always been an 
 aristocrate, I have ! — and you, you have always been 
 the friend of that despicable Condorcet. Oh, I 
 could tell nice tales of the pair of you ! " 
 
 Meanwhile, having an important despatch to send 
 to Rome, I entered the apartments of the Abbd Le 
 Moyne, wrote my letter, and ventured — for I was 
 beginning to have more confidence and assurance — 
 to carry it to the post-office at nightfall. 
 
 I threw it into the box at the moment the sentry- 
 had his back turned. 
 
 Happily I found the lamp extinguished on my way 
 back to Madame Grandin's, and was able to proceed 
 straight to my lodgings, where I slept until two in the 
 morning. 
 
 On that day, I took a walk to Surennes. The 
 authorities of this village were well disposed, and 
 did not oblige the nobles to present themselves before 
 the Commune. So I had no fear of trouble from this 
 quarter. 
 
 I even risked entering an inn and asking for re- 
 freshments. 
 
 I was served with a fricassee of fresh pork, pota- 
 toes, bread, and a little white wine. 
 
 On the next day, I met with a terrible adventure. 
 I had gone into Paris to make some purchases of 
 which I was absolutely in need. 
 
 I remember I bought sugar, among other things. 
 It was about seven in the evening. 
 
 I laid an assignat of five francs, a corset, in the 
 slang of the time, on the grocer's counter. 
 
 " It 's a forgery ! " cried the young man who served 
 
A WEEK OF CHECKERED FORTUNES. 189 
 
 me. " Come with me to the section. You '11 see how 
 we treat people who peddle forged assignats." 
 
 To go to the section was for me to go to my death. 
 
 " Citizen,*' I answered, ** I am not obliged to take 
 your word for it, but, as I have not time to go to the 
 section, here are other assignats ; take whatever one 
 you like, and tear up the forged one. If I have re- 
 ceived a forged assignat by mistake, I alone have to 
 suffer for it" 
 
 But the wretch would not listen to me ; he insisted 
 that I must appear before the section. 
 
 However, I made a vigorous resistance. 
 
 At last, a man who was sweeping the floor, took 
 pity on me, and, addressing the young clerk : 
 
 '* What does it matter to you," he said, " whether 
 the assignat is forged or not, since the gentleman is 
 giving you another ? Let him alone ; or, if you 
 don't, I'll call the man who employs you. How 
 should you like it if you were dragged to the section 
 yourself against your will ? " 
 
 After these words, the young man released me. 
 
 But it is impossible to describe my alarm. I was 
 utterly broken up. Even when I was outside the 
 barrier, I trembled in every joint at the thought of 
 the danger I had incurred. 
 
 I went to Meudon the day following. 
 
 The weather was very beautiful. We were now in 
 the middle of April, or, to be accurate, a little farther 
 on than the middle. 
 
 I entered a caf^ and asked for beer and biscuits. I 
 had taken off my hat on account of the heat, and was 
 moving around the hall, while drinking my beer. 
 
190 MEMOIRS OP Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 Suddenly, a citizen rushed in, crying, in an ecstasy 
 of delight: "Hurrah! it is the turn of the Parlia- 
 ment to-day ! Every man of them is in the dock, — 
 except that rascal Salamon I '* 
 
 A thunderbolt striking the earth at my feet would 
 not have dismayed me as much as these tidings. I 
 hastily picked up my hat, paid the reckoning, and 
 made for Passy as fast as my legs could carry me. 
 
 As soon as I reached it, I knocked at the door of 
 one of my friends, who had sought refuge in this 
 village, M. Fournier de la Chapelle, ex-intendant of 
 Auch. 
 
 I told him what I had just learned. 
 
 " This," said I, " is the very reverse of the news 
 sent me by Madame d'Aulnay. Do you go, I entreat 
 you, and find out the truth." 
 
 " You see," he answered, " it is near nightfall. If 
 things are as you say, there is no remedy, and it is as 
 well to remain as we are for to-night. I will set out 
 at six to-morrow, and at eight I shall be at the Pyra- 
 mid, near Bagatelle, in the Bois de Boulogne. Do 
 you be there." 
 
 I did not close an eye the whole night, and I was 
 at the place appointed before daybreak. 
 
 M. Fournier arrived at the hour named. 
 
 He was in a state of consternation. 
 
 " They are all dead I " he gasped. 
 
 " Here is the journal," he added; " you will see you 
 have also been condemned in your absence." 
 
THE TWO FUGITIVES. 191 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE TWO FUGITIVES. 
 
 In thb Depths of thb Forest. — " Keep still, whoxtbb tou 
 ' ABE ! " — In the Dabk. — Sappho. — " Pabdon me, Mademoi- 
 selle." — A Visit to Marianne. — Letter from Cardinal 
 Zelada. — Some Cdrious Details on the Correspondence 
 between the Nuncio and Pius VI . 
 
 After that day, I no longer ventured to return to 
 Passy, and my dejection was extreme. 
 
 I did not know what course to adopt. 
 
 I never stirred out of the thickest and remotest 
 part of the Bois de Boulogne. 
 
 It seemed to me as if every one I met saw outlaw 
 written on my face, and was ready to hand me over 
 to the executioner. 
 
 One night I was aroused from my reveries by the 
 screams of two women, who recoiled in terror on 
 perceiving me through the obscurity of the night. 
 
 They were a mother and her daughter, who were 
 also flying to avoid a warrant of arrest. 
 
 I cried to them : " Keep still, whoever you are I 
 You have nothing to fear." 
 
 Then I heard the young girl say: "I think I 
 recognize that gentleman ; I have seen him several 
 times on his way through Passy to the house of 
 Grandin." 
 
192 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 They asked me what I was doing in the wood at 
 such an hour. " I suppose," I answered, " the same 
 thing you are doing yourselves." 
 
 They became quite confidential after this ; but you 
 can easily guess that I was a little more reserved. 
 
 The mother proposed I should come along with 
 them, as it was going to rain. She added that she 
 possessed apartments in a very retired spot. 
 
 " But, madame," I answered, " how can you trust a 
 man you do not know ? " 
 
 " Because," she returned, " you seem to be as un- 
 fortunate as we are ourselves. Besides, what harm 
 can you do us ? On the contrary, your presence will 
 give us courage." 
 
 "Oh, in that case, I am ready to follow you. 
 Where are we going ? " 
 
 " Besides our residence at Passy," she replied, " we 
 have safer quarters in an out-of-the-way part of the 
 forest, but they are very far from here. You may 
 come with us if you like." 
 
 They made me take a number of sharp turns and 
 windings ; in fact, it was beginning to strike me that 
 they wanted to lead me astray, for, instead of going 
 by the Porte Maillot, the shortest road to the Fau- 
 bourg du Roule and the waste lands near the barrier, 
 we reached them by crossing the Place Louis XV. 
 
 I came to the conclusion, then, that, in spite of 
 their apparent frankness, they had not perfect confi- 
 dence in me. 
 
 When we were near the house, they told me to 
 stay behind for a minute or so. 
 
 In the mean while, the mother proceeded, in a very 
 
THE TWO FUGITIVES. 198 
 
 mysterious manner, and wiUiout striking a light, to 
 open the door. 
 
 I must admit I was now beginning to repent — 
 without exactly knowing why — of having followed 
 these women. 
 
 Nevertheless I entered, guided by the daughter, 
 who held me by the hand, for it was very dark, and 
 I found myself in a fine and beautifully furnished 
 ante-chamber. 
 
 We passed into a large hall, where they pointed 
 out a long sofa to me, saying : " There is your bed. 
 We will get you sheets and bedclothes immediately." 
 
 But, before they did so, they insisted on showing 
 me all their apartments, and in particular the place 
 where they slept; it was a rather narrow entresol 
 reached by a staircase in the dining-room. 
 
 In order to carry the inspection through effectively, 
 they had decided to light torches, and it was only 
 then I was enabled to get a good look at them. 
 
 The mother, apparently about forty, was very 
 graceful and bright-looking. She had a great deal of 
 vivacity, for a mere nothing made her laugh, and 
 my carmagnole was a source of endless amusement 
 to her. 
 
 The daughter was, perhaps, about nineteen, evi- 
 dently a very amiable young person. She was as 
 ugly as sin, but she made a far better impression on 
 me than the mother. 
 
 They asked me whether I should not like to eat 
 something, and on my refusal, set about making 
 my bed. 
 
 " I feel," I said to them, " as if it would be almost 
 13 
 
194 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 impossible for me to sleep. I would give a good deal 
 if I had some Italian book to read." 
 
 "What! " exclaimed the mother, "you know Italian? 
 So much the better. You can teach it to us.'* 
 
 "But, madame, I am not likely to be with you 
 long enough for that." 
 
 " Why not, monsieur ? We will stay here as long 
 as you please. It is enough for us that you seem to 
 be unfortunate and a man of good birth." 
 
 "I feel much flattered, madame," I replied, "but 
 I must leave you to-morrow." 
 
 Thereupon she brought me " Sappho " * in Italian, 
 and both of them then retired. 
 
 I read until I fell asleep, forgetting to extinguish 
 the taper. A little before daybreak, a noise made by 
 some one shutting the street-door awoke me abruptly. 
 
 " Great heavens ! " I exclaimed, " what does that 
 mean ? Have they gone away ar\d left me here alone ? 
 They are, perhaps, — who can tell? — loose women, 
 who want to play an ugly trick upon me. And yet," 
 I added, making an effort to banish my uneasiness, 
 "they do not look bad." 
 
 For all that, I could not control my anxiety, and, 
 dressing hastily, I waited for the first approach of 
 day, when I should instantly take my departure. 
 
 But I made up my mind to find out whether those 
 ladies were still in their apartments or not. I mounted 
 quickly to the entresol^ and went straight to the bed- 
 room of the mother. 
 
 It was empty. 
 
 1 " The Adventures of Sappho/' a romance of Verri, author of the 
 " Roman Nights." 
 
THE TWO FUGITIVES. 195 
 
 I then knocked at the young lady's chamber and 
 opened it; she was in bed, and burst out laughing 
 when she saw me. 
 
 "Forgive me," I said, "for entering your room, 
 mademoiselle ; but I have been surprised at hearing 
 some one leave the house at a very early hour, and you 
 must admit I had some ground for my surprise." 
 
 " It was mamma," she answered, " who has gone to 
 the Rue Grammont to be present at the marriage of 
 a relative of ours ; but she will be back for dinner. 
 She told me to request you to join us, as we have an 
 excellent turkey." 
 
 I thanked her warmly, but said I must leave 
 immediately. 
 
 She did not press me. When I was outside the 
 door, however, she cried after me: "Remember I at 
 six this evening I " 
 
 As I was within the borders of the city, I took 
 advantage of the opportunity to visit old Marianne, 
 whom I had good reason to regard as a friend spe- 
 cially sent me by Providence. 
 
 She handed me a letter that had lately come from 
 Switzerland. 
 
 This time I opened it in her room ; it contained a 
 thousand francs in assignats. I had all the trouble 
 in the world to force twenty francs on the good old 
 woman. 
 
 Cardinal Zelada again emphasized the fact that the 
 Pope granted me all the privileges and dispensations 
 I needed, and was only anxious that I should keep 
 out of prison. "For his Holiness," he added, "is 
 always in dread of something happening to his little 
 
196 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 JacoUn; he would be in despair if he fell into the 
 hands of the Uood-drinkers.^^ 
 
 The reason why Pius VI. called me his little Jacobin 
 was because I occasionally adopted the language of 
 the Revolutionists in writing to him. It was a device 
 to secure the transmission of my letters in case they 
 were opened. 
 
 When I announced a defeat, for instance, I wrote: 
 " Vive la RepuUique ! There has been a great battle, 
 in which the vile slaves of the Austrian tyrant have 
 forced a great number of our brave patriots to bite 
 the dust ; but we shall soon avenge our noble dead 
 on these contemptible minions of despotism." 
 
 I wrote to the cardinal under the pseudonym of 
 Giuseppe Evangelisti,^ and he signed himself "Cit- 
 oyen Blanchet," taking the name of my poor old 
 servant, and sometimes " Eysseri," which is the name 
 of one of my Italian ancestors. 
 
 Thanks to these precautions, and also to the good- 
 ness of God, my correspondence with Rome was 
 never interrupted during the whole course of the 
 Reign of Terror. 
 
 1 Strange to say, this was the name of the secretary of legation 
 attached to the embassy sent by Pius VL to negotiate with the Direc- 
 tory in 1796. 
 
TOGETHER AGAIN. 197 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 TOGETHER AGAIN. 
 
 Fall of Kobespierre. — The Internuncio's Letter to Citizen 
 Leoendre. — The Baronne de Courville and her Daugh- 
 ter. — Blanchet searches for her Master, and finds him 
 ▲T Ranelaoh. — The Internuncio and Bourdon de l'Oise. 
 
 These harassing adventiures were brought to an 
 end, at least for the time. 
 
 Chaumette, attorney to the Commune, and the rest 
 of the wretches perished on the scaffold. Robes- 
 pierre himself met with the same fate.^ 
 
 His fall revived my courage, which had been cruelly 
 shaken by the murder of so many excellent friends. 
 I decided to write at once to the Committee of Gen- 
 eral Safety, and ask the release of Blanchet. 
 
 I made as pathetic and eloquent an appeal in be- 
 half of that faithful servant as I was able. I gave 
 full details of all the horrors she was forced to endure 
 at the hands of the section of Bondy. I dwelt espe- 
 cially on the death of her child, whom they had bar- 
 barously flung out on the street at four o'clock on a 
 January morning, half naked and sick, and exposed 
 to a piercing cold, so that he died three days after in 
 the Hospice de la Charity, in the Rue des Saints-Pdres. 
 
 1 On the lOth of April and 28th of July, 1794. 
 
198 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 In conclusion, I entreated them to set her at liberty 
 immediately, since no crime could be alleged against 
 her, except that of being a faithful servant, devoted 
 to her master, whom she had cared for since his 
 childhood. 
 
 Then I threw myself in the way of President Collet, 
 as he was making his customary visit to his cousin at 
 Auteuil, and begged him to carry the letter to my 
 secretary's niece, who would see that it reached its 
 address. 
 
 This woman lived in the Rue de Seine, and was 
 acquainted with Legendre, whose sister was her in- 
 timate friend. 
 
 Everything turned out as successful as I could 
 have wished. Blanchet was released on that very- 
 day, so that Collet was able to announce to me on 
 the next morning : " Blanchet is free ! She is now 
 at your house. The seals are still left on your private 
 apartments, but they have been removed from the rest 
 of the rooms." 
 
 These tidings took a weight off my heart ; I felt less 
 melancholy than I had done for a long time. I de- 
 termined to pay another visit to my two ladies, and I 
 ate my share of the turkey to which the daughter had 
 invited me, after all ! 
 
 My unjust suspicions had vanished, and I was 
 charmed to make their acquaintance, for they be- 
 longed to the very best society. 
 
 The lady was styled the Baronne de Courville, and 
 her husband was commandant of Saint>-Dizier. 
 
 When she mentioned her name I was for the mo- 
 ment somewhat confused ; for I remembered that a 
 
TOGETHER AGAIN. 199 
 
 certain Baronne de Courville had been seriously com- 
 promised in the trial of Cardinal de Rohan, on the 
 subject of the famous necklace. However, I soon 
 discovered she was not the same person. 
 
 This lady is still alive, but her amiable daughter 
 died at the eariy age of twenty-three, having, some 
 time before, lost her husband. 
 
 Her death occurred during the trial I had to un- 
 dergo on account of my connection with the Pope,^ 
 and I have been told that, when she was in the last 
 agony, she asked: "Has that gentleman been ac- 
 quitted ? " " Yes," was the answer. " Well, tell him, 
 then, that I was very glad." 
 
 It was a considerable time before these ladies 
 knew my name ; so, when they spoke of me, they 
 used to call me "that gentleman." 
 
 Meanwhile, Blanchet had set out on a search for 
 me, two days after she left prison, in company with 
 the baker woman who had taken in her child, and 
 at length discovered me on the road that leads to 
 Ranelagh. 
 
 She was so pale and thin that I did not recognize 
 her at a distance. 
 
 She approached, trembling, and did not utter a 
 single word, for fear of endangering me. 
 
 I told her, reassuringly, that I was no longer ex- 
 posed to the same perils I had been in the past. 
 
 Her first care was to give me three hundred francs, 
 which she held in her hand. She had earned them by 
 doing up the linen of the ladies imprisoned in Les 
 Anglaises. She was extremely skilful, and preferred 
 
 1 Book IIL 
 
200 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOX. 
 
 working to obeying the orders of the patriots, who 
 told her she must force the aristocrates to support her. 
 
 But she confessed to me that she had very little 
 reason to be grateful to most of these great ladies. 
 Accordingly, she used to reckon the slights she re- 
 ceived from them in making up the account, and her 
 charges were pretty high. As she was a first-rate 
 needlewoman and ironed to perfection, these ladies, 
 who were just as coquettish in prison as they had 
 been at Versailles, would have no one else to work 
 for them. 
 
 Nevertheless, she had become attached, as I have 
 already mentioned, to old Madame de la Rochefou- 
 cauld, whose legs were covered with sores, and who 
 had been deserted by her women. 
 
 She parted from me in tears. 
 
 I told her she must come and see me in my attic, 
 which I pointed out on our return through the main 
 street of Passy. 
 
 She also informed me that the section of the Unit^, 
 my own section, and always inclined to favor me, 
 had removed from my house the two keepers, who 
 had cost me five francs each a day for two months, 
 and had burned four cartloads of wood and all my 
 candles, as well as eaten all my oil.^ Luckily, they 
 did not touch the cellar; for this, I had to thank 
 Blanchet, who insisted on having the seals placed on 
 it, as well as on the rest. The presence of mind of 
 that woman was unique. 
 
 1 This detail will not surprise anybody acquainted with the ex- 
 cellent oil of the south of France. It is eaten with bread, just as 
 batter is in the north. 
 
TOGETHER AGAIN. 201 
 
 T was careful not to say anything to her about her 
 son, but my silence told her plainly enough of her 
 misfortune. 
 
 I directed her to leave the Rue des Augustins and 
 take apartments in the Faubourg du Roule, so that 
 she might be nearer Passy, where I had had a little 
 lodge for the past eight years. 
 
 But I had stiU to be on my guard until the 9th 
 of November, for the Terror reappeared again for a 
 time.^ 
 
 At length, however, I decided to adopt such meas- 
 ures as were likely to lead to the removal of the seals 
 from my apartments and the restoration of my books, 
 clocks, and plate. 
 
 With this object, I paid a visit to Bourdon de 
 rOise, who had been attorney to the Parliament. He 
 was a bad man, but I had done him a great service 
 once upon a time. He lived in the Rue des Saints- 
 P^res. 
 
 Although nine years had passed since we met last, 
 he knew me immediately, and said bluntly, — 
 
 " Eh ! so it 's you, is it ? Come in. What do you 
 want?" 
 
 " Listen to me," I answered ; " you know me of 
 old to be a sincere and trustworthy man, do you 
 not?" 
 
 " Yes," he returned, quickly. 
 
 "And I know that you, too, are a sincere and 
 trustworthy man, a bad head — don't be angry — but 
 a good heart. So I have come to ask you to do me a 
 
 1 Without doubt, after the 13th Vend^miaire. 
 
202 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 " But did you not subscribe to the protest of the 
 Chambre des Vacations ? " 
 
 " Well, supposing I did, Bourdon de I'Oise, what 
 follows ? You know better than any one that in the 
 Parliament the minority was pledged to accept the 
 ruling of the majority and to sign it. This is why I 
 subscribed to the protest, although I was opposed 
 to it." 
 
 " I 'm very glad to hear that ! Well, tell me what 
 I can do for you." 
 
 " You can obtain the removal of the seals from my 
 apartments, and the restoration of everything that 
 has been taken from them." 
 
 " Come this evening to the Committee of the Sec- 
 tion. 1 11 do all I can for you." 
 
 "But I am condemned to death by default. Be- 
 sides, the decree against the nobles has not been re- 
 pealed. If I go before the Committee they may arrest 
 me." 
 
 " Have no fear," he said ; " all you have to do is to 
 invoke the protection of Bourdon de I'Oise. Come 
 this way. You have read, I suppose, in some of the 
 newspapers that Bourdon de I'Oise is nothing but a 
 di-unkard, is always swilling wine, nothing but the 
 best Bourdeaux will satisfy his luxurious palate. 
 Ecce signum ! Here is a basket of it ; have a glass 
 or two." 
 
 " Thanks," I answered ; " but I see some very- 
 tempting grapes on your table. If you will let me 
 have some, I should prefer them." 
 
 " Take what you wish." 
 
 I took three or four bunches of grapes, and went 
 
TOGETHER AGAIN. 208 
 
 away, eating them. I appeared before the Committee 
 in the evening, and a decree was passed in my favor. 
 The seals were raised, nor was I asked to pay any- 
 thing for their removal. 
 
 But the property the rascals took from my house, I 
 never set eyes on again. 
 
204 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 DEATH OF BLANCHET AND MADAME DELLEBART. 
 
 You have now, madame, the narrative of the sec- 
 ond period of my misfortunes. I might have men- 
 tioned many other little details, but they would have 
 bored you. Still, your tender heart must undoubt- 
 edly have taken an interest in my faithful servant, 
 and in my excellent friend Madame Dellebart, and, 
 perhaps, you may wish to learn what became of 
 them. 
 
 Blanchet died six years ago,^ after suffering cruelly 
 from a long and painful illness. I could not save 
 her as she had saved me; but I had the conso- 
 lation of proving to her that I exhausted all human 
 means in the effort to do so. For the nine months 
 and a half that she kept her bed, I watched her day 
 and night, taking turns with a servant whom I had 
 employed to take care of her for some years. I 
 spent three nights out of every week beside her pil- 
 low, and on other nights I had to get up more than 
 once, for the poor woman would sometimes not suffer 
 any one near her but me. She would only take her 
 
 i About 1805, according to presumed date of these Memoirs. It is 
 not strange, then, that we find her mixed up with the trial of the 
 internuncio in 1797. See Book III. 
 
DEATH OF BLANCHET AND Mme. DELLEBART. 205 
 
 medicine from my hand, and I rendered all such ser- 
 vices to her as are rendered to the sick, even the most 
 repulsive, as much from affection as from gratitude. 
 
 She died with great courage. When she saw her 
 end approaching, she did not speak of death, for fear 
 my sorrow might overpower me, but she asked for a 
 confessor, and for M. Colin, my notary. I brought 
 them to her bedside. She insisted on making a will, 
 giving me back all that she had ever received from 
 me, for whatever relations she had were very distant. 
 Before djdng, she gazed steadfastly upon me, without 
 speaking ; but I knew she wanted to say something, 
 and I asked : " What do you wish, Blanchet ? Tell 
 me, I will do whatever you desire." "I wish to 
 embrace you," she murmured. " Then embrace me, 
 my dear, dear friend. Why did you not say so at 
 once ? " As soon as I saw that she was in the last 
 agony, I recited the prayers for the dying. She ex- 
 pired in the morning, gently, like one falling asleep. 
 I attended to her burial in a proper manner, had a 
 solemn Mass sung for her in the church of Le Roule, 
 and followed her remains to the grave. 
 
 I had also the consolation of soothing the last 
 hours of Madame Dellebart. The Revolution had 
 made a profound impression on her, apart from the 
 fact that it had deprived her of a portion of her in- 
 come. She fell sick. Her daughter wrote me a let- 
 ter, saying that the condition of her mother had 
 grown worse, and that she complained of not having 
 seen me for a long time. Although it was eleven at 
 night when I received this message, I ran immedi- 
 ately to the Rue Saint-Apolline. I found her very 
 
206 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 ill. No one had ventured to speak to her about the 
 sacraments, — not that she was exactly without re- 
 ligion, but she was not pious, and the thought of 
 death had always been repulsive to her. Not know- 
 ing very well how to approach the subject, I con- 
 versed with her on my misfortunes and the many 
 consolations I had found in religion. "It is it," I 
 said, " that has supported me in all my affliction ; 
 thanks to my prayers, I have escaped from the midst 
 of assassins, and have saved my life by the almost 
 miraculous interposition of Divine Providence. And 
 if I have again, quite recently, escaped the hands of 
 my executioners, even after they had condemned me 
 to death, it is to God I owe my safety.^ But you 
 people of the world," I added, "you do not raise 
 your eyes to Heaven, you never have recourse to 
 religion. Even you, my dear friend, you who are so 
 good and charitable, do not ask your God to cure 
 you, but your doctor, who is powerless to relieve 
 you. You are weak, no doubt, but you are naturally 
 full of good dispositions. Beg of God to restore 
 your strength, and you may be cured. My prayers 
 in your behalf will be heard. But you must begin 
 by purifying your soul, for it is a long time since you 
 have confessed. Do it now, and all the rest mil fol- 
 low. Say the word, and I shall have a confessor here 
 to-morrow." 
 
 She remained silent for a moment, then, offering me 
 her hand, a thin poor hand that had been once very 
 pretty, for Madame Dellebart had been beautiful in 
 her time, she murmured, — 
 
 1 As this trial took place in 1796-97, Madame Dellebart must have 
 died in 1797. 
 
DEATH OF BLANCHET AND Mmk. DELLEBART. 207 
 
 " Thank you, my friend ; God has preserved you 
 to be of service to me. Do not send for a confessor ; 
 a man so good as you are must be as compassionate 
 a confessor as one could desire, — and, indeed, I have 
 need of indulgence." 
 
 "Well, then," I answered, "rest a little for the 
 present; it is now one o'clock in the morning. I 
 think I require a little repose myself ; but to-morrow 
 morning I will be near you." 
 
 I left her without saying a word to her daughter of 
 what had occurred ; the latter would have persecuted 
 her with her exhortations and warnings to prepare 
 herself well. She was, as I have mentioned, a very 
 scrupulous and veiy tiresome person, though, as a 
 religeuse^ regular enough. Her poor mother, who 
 knew her thoroughly, sometimes said to me : " You 
 cannot imagine how much my daughter makes me 
 suffer!" 
 
 Madame Dellebart ordered my breakfast to be sent 
 to my room as usual, and requested me to come to 
 her at ten. " I have passed a very good night," she 
 said, " and it is to you I owe it. Pray finish your 
 work." After confessing her, I explained that, as I 
 could not remain long with her, I was going to the 
 parish of Bonne-Nouvelle, where I knew a priest who 
 would bring her a consecrated Host. When I re- 
 turned I perceived she had informed her household 
 of the good act she had just been engaged in. Her 
 daughter was on her knees at the foot of the bed. In 
 order not to excite her too much, and knowing that 
 she was now well prepared, I did not deliver any ex- 
 hortation. I contented myself with reciting the Con- 
 
208 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 fiteor^ and, after the usual absolution, I gave her 
 Holy Communion. The news of her conversion was 
 a source of much satisfaction to the entire household, 
 and it afforded me great consolation to find that she 
 felt much better the next day ; she was even able to 
 sit up for two hours ; but it was one of those passing 
 gleams of brightness that forebode death. I returned 
 to Passy, but was by her side the next day. She was 
 extremely feeble, and the doctor told me she had not 
 much time to live. " How happy she ought to be,'* 
 I thought, "to have received the sacraments!" 
 When I asked her if she wished me to recite the 
 prayers, adding that it was better to do so sooner 
 than later: "Yes," she murmured, "I should like 
 you to do so." I made haste then to say the prayers 
 for those in the last agony. As soon as they were 
 finished, she asked me should I not like to have a 
 souvenir of her affection. "Gladly," I answered, 
 "and I shall cherish it as a precious possession." 
 She gave me a ring enriched with diamonds, a " hoop- 
 ring," I think they call it. " I was once very fond," 
 she continued, " of the works of Voltaire and Rous- 
 seau. Perhaps you may wish to have them ? " " Yes," 
 I replied ; " this is also a sacrifice you should make, 
 for these two philosophers have done much harm to 
 religion, and I do not wish you to keep them any 
 longer." 
 
 At length, she died, very piously indeed, but she 
 wept much. I left the house, promising her daughter 
 to return in the evening and to recite the Office for 
 the Dead. On the next day I said the prayers, gave 
 the absolution, and performed all the ceremonies 
 
DEATH OF BLANCHET AND Mme. DELLEBART. 209 
 
 which are customarily used before earth is thrown on 
 the coffin. I accompanied the remains of Madame 
 Dellebart to the cemetery of the Barri5re Blanche, 
 and I have often shed tears since over the memory of 
 this excellent and charitable friend. 
 
 U 
 
BOOK m. 
 
 MY TRIAL UNDER THE DIRECTORY. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 MY TRIAL UNDER THE DIRECTORY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PIUS VI. AND THE DIRECTORY. 
 
 Looking Backwards. — Plan op a Concordat Between the 
 Pope and the Directory : Del Campo, Pierracchi and 
 Cardinal Busca.— Cochon, Prefect op Police, arrests 
 THE Courier sent by the Internuncio to Pius VI. 
 
 The last portion of my adventures took place after 
 the Revolution.^ 
 
 They were not less perilous than the others, and 
 more humiliating. 
 
 It was then that I was thrown into a dungeon, 
 lighted only by a narrow, grated window, placed 
 immediately under the roof; a little straw served 
 me for a bed. It was then, also, that I was 
 transported to the Grande Force, in the midst of 
 thieves and cut-throats, and, finally, incarcerated in 
 the Conciergerie, which was ordinarily the anteroom 
 to the scaffold. 
 
 1 De Salamon considers the Revolution to have ended with the be- 
 ginning of the Directory. 
 
214 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON". 
 
 I was charged with a capital crime, and for about 
 five months I was confronted by an adversary bent 
 on sending me to the guillotine, — the terrible 
 Directory. 
 
 To believe my accusers, I was the chief of the 
 most skilfully-devised conspiracy that had ever been 
 invented, and twelve portfolios, discovered in my 
 rooms at Paris and Passy, afforded indubitable proofs 
 of this conspiracy. 
 
 In short, I was involved in such a critical situation, 
 that I was abandoned by everybody, even by my 
 closest friends. 
 
 In 1790, after the flight of Dugnani, I had been 
 named by the late Pope Pius VI. internuncio to 
 Louis XVI. Obliged to perform all the functions of 
 Nuncio Apostolic, I received, in my official capacity, 
 the various briefs of his Holiness directed against 
 the Civil Constitution of the Clergy, and transmitted 
 them, in the canonical forms^ to the metropolitan arch- 
 bishops, of whom there were still many in France, 
 charging the latter to make them known to their 
 respective suffragans. 
 
 On my side, I gave these briefs the widest possible 
 publicity, and had them translated into French and 
 printed, in spite of the decree of the National Assem- 
 bly which pronounced the penalty of death against all 
 who " published, printed, or distributed " briefs or 
 other acts emanating from the court of Rome. 
 
 Where the interests of our holy religion are involved, 
 no human consideration should have the slightest 
 weight with a true Christian, still less with a man 
 who, like me, was the organ of the Holy See. 
 
PIUS VI. AND THE DIRECTORY. 215 
 
 Moreover, God rewarded my zeal and fidelity, for 
 the printers and booksellers who were prosecuted on 
 account of these briefs never denounced me. 
 
 It was also my sad mission to notify Cardinal de 
 Brienne, Archbishop of Sens, that, by the degree of 
 the Sacred Congregation of Cardinals, he was expelled 
 from the sacred college, and forbidden to wear the 
 robes of a cardinal.^ 
 
 It was in compliance with the orders of the Pope 
 that I took charge of the intemunciature, and I was, 
 in consequence, very nearly falling a victim during 
 the September massacres, from which I escaped, con- 
 trary to all expectation, and solely owing to Divine 
 protection. 
 
 When these sad scenes terminated, I received 
 conclusive evidence of the Pope's satisfaction with 
 my conduct. 
 
 The Sacred Congregation for the Affairs of France 
 named me Vicar Apostolic of the whole kingdom, and 
 also of Brabant. 
 
 In this capacity, I kept up an active correspondence 
 with the nuncios at Brussels and Lucerne, and with 
 the Vice-Legate of Avignon, who had taken refuge at 
 Nice. 
 
 Frightened at my heavy responsibility, and dis- 
 trusting my own strength, I formed a little council of 
 advisers. 
 
 My immense correspondence demanded also the 
 greatest prudence. 
 
 I must confess that all my success was owing to the 
 help I received from certain good priests and many 
 
 1 The decree was issued on the 26th of September, 1791. 
 
216 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 pious women, that class of women who are always 
 full of resources for the service of God. 
 
 They were particularly skilful in furnishing me 
 with the means of despatching my letters, and seeing 
 that they safely arrived at their destination. 
 
 So, until 1796, I was able to fulfil my mission un- 
 distui'bed, and almost without interruption. 
 
 In the same year, the Directory seemed inclined to 
 enter into negotiations with the Pope, and even made 
 overtures to him, through the medium of the Marquis 
 del Campo, ambassador of Spain. 
 
 Cardinal Busca, the Pope's new Secretary of State, 
 ordered me to confer with M. del Campo, and sent an 
 Italian priest, named Pierracchi, to assist me. 
 
 We had also an interview with the Minister of 
 Foreign Affairs .^ 
 
 The object was to conclude a concordat between 
 the Pope and the Directory. 
 
 The Directory was willing to make many conces- 
 sions, if the Pope consented to sanction the Civil 
 Constitution of the Clergy. The half of the former 
 bishops would be recalled and restored to their sees, 
 and the half of the constitutional bishops would retain 
 theirs. In case of vacancy, the Directory would sub- 
 mit three names to the Holy See, from which it was 
 to select one. 
 
 Such was the basis of the concordat offered by the 
 Directory. 
 
 It was, in fact, already printed^ but a new oath was 
 
 1 In 1796, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, or, as it was then desig- 
 nated, of Exterior Relations, was Charles Delacroix. He was suc- 
 ceeded by Talleyrand. 
 
PIUS VL AND THE DIRECTORY. 217 
 
 required from the bishops and priests. This oath 
 displeased Pius VI., and he refused firmly to accept 
 the proposal. 
 
 Immediately the Directory broke off all negotia- 
 tions ; the Abb^ Pierracchi was ordered to depart in 
 twenty-four hours, and I received a hint that it would 
 be better for my health to keep out of the way for a 
 time. 
 
 Meanwhile, General Bonaparte was making the 
 most rapid progress in Italy. The legations of 
 Bologna, Ferrara, and Urbino were already invaded, 
 and the Pope, to preserve the remainder of his posses- 
 sions, saw himself under the sad necessity of sending 
 Cardinal Mattel and his own nephew, Duke Bi-aschi, 
 to the tent of the conqueror, to sue for peace. 
 
 The French general granted an armistice, on condi- 
 tion of receiving a contribution of several millions ; 
 during this armistice, a final peace was to be nego- 
 tiated. 
 
 But the conditions were very hard. Pius VI. con- 
 sented to them only with the view of gaining time 
 and saving his capital. It was his settled purpose, 
 however, to form an alliance with the King of Naples, 
 and obtain from him a considerable force of soldiers. 
 
 He also collected a small army secretly, and in- 
 trusted the command of it to an Austrian general,^ 
 sent him by the Emperor of Germany. 
 
 The treaty he made with the King of Naples also 
 implied that the latter should despatch a respectable 
 army to his relief. 
 
 These tidings, which I had learned only quite 
 1 General CollL 
 
218 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 recently, gave me great satisfaction, and I was 
 beginning to feel somewhat tranquil, when, having 
 attended a reception given by a Belgian banker, who 
 liked to see foreigners at his house, I noticed that 
 Prince Belmonte, the Neapolitan ambassador, was 
 looking quite radiant. 
 
 I began to have some suspicions, and I observed 
 him narrowly. 
 
 I noticed also that he had recognized me, and had 
 turned away his eyes when my looks met his. 
 
 But I did not lose sight of him. I made my way to 
 him slowly, seemingly without any desire to address 
 him in particular, until we were near each other. 
 Then I kept my ears open, to glean what I could in 
 case he asked or answered a question. 
 
 Chance favored me, — indeed, served me better 
 than I could have hoped for. 
 
 The Prince of Reuss, whom I had formerly often met 
 in society, approached the ambassador, and, after the 
 usual compliments, inquired if there was anjrthing new. 
 
 "Yes," he replied, "peace has been concluded 
 between the King of Naples and the Directory. I 
 signed it myself this morning." 
 
 My surprise and consternation at this news, news I 
 had not the slightest grounds for expecting, may be 
 easily imagined. 
 
 I listened eagerly for something else ; but I was 
 unable to learn anything further of importance. 
 
 Accordingly, as soon as I could do so without arous- 
 ing suspicion, I drew near the Prince of Reuss and 
 asked him to tell me frankly what the Neapolitan 
 ambassador had said to him. 
 
PIUS VI. AND THE DIRECTORY. 219 
 
 This Prince and I had always been on good terms, 
 and he was acquainted with my mission, having met 
 me more than once at the Tuileries, when I went 
 there as internuncio. 
 
 He answered freely, without any hesitation : " The 
 King of Naples has made peace with the Directory, 
 and such a peace must assuredly have serious conse- 
 quences for the Holy See." 
 
 Without making any response to this reflection, I 
 inquired if Prince del Belmonte had entered into any 
 details. 
 
 " No," he replied, " all I know is that his courier is 
 ready, and on the point of starting." 
 
 I thought to myself : " The Pope is betrayed ! He 
 is lost! Believing that he has the support of a 
 strong army of Neapolitans, he will break the armis- 
 tice ; the French general will invade Rome and make 
 him prisoner." 
 
 The thought occurred to me, like a flash, that it was 
 still possible to send a courier to his Holiness, who 
 could inform him of what had happened, and show 
 him that it would be imprudent to be the first to break 
 the armistice. 
 
 The Pope kept a courier near me, named Guillaume, 
 who was always at my disposal. I left immediately 
 to give him instructions. Naples being a hundred 
 and fifty miles farther from Paris than Rome was, it 
 was quite possible to despatch a messenger who could 
 reach the Pope and acquaint him with the situation of 
 affairs long before a courier could arrive in Naples. 
 My courier had always a passport for Switzerland on 
 his person, so that he might be able to start at a 
 
220 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 moment's notice. Accordingly, before it was mid- 
 night, he was ah-eady outside of Paris. 
 
 But whether he had spoken of his mission, or 
 whether he had been "shadowed,'* I cannot say. 
 At all events, he was pursued by order of the 
 Minister of Police, — at that time M. Cochon, — 
 and arrested at Pontarlier, just as he was about to 
 eat a morsel in a tavern on the road. 
 
 His despatches were seized, but he was allowed to 
 go free himself. 
 
 It was a great pity, and a great fault also, for him 
 to have delayed his journey on any account. Another 
 half hour would have brought him across the frontiers 
 of the Valais, a neutral country, and he could have 
 fulfilled his mission. In that case, I should not have 
 groaned for five months in fetters and Pius VI. might 
 have been saved. 
 
 However, I had sent by post a copy of my despatch 
 at the same time, using a false address, according to 
 my custom. It reached its destination all right, but it 
 arrived too late. 
 
 I said, toward the close of my letter, that if the 
 armistice was broken, the only thing his Holiness 
 could do was to take measures for the safety of his 
 person and of whatever else he deemed of most 
 value. 
 
 I have been told by the present Pontiff that Pius 
 VI. was about to follow my advice implicitly, and had 
 actually given orders to make all the necessary pre- 
 parations for leaving Rome. Unfortunately, the 
 generals of the Dominicans and Camalduli, as well 
 as two cardinals, came to him in the night, and per- 
 
PIUS VL AND THE DIRECTORY. 221 
 
 suaded him to change his resolution ; and when Car- 
 dinal Chiaramonti, now Pius VII., presented himself 
 at the Vatican in the morning, he found everything 
 quiet, and the Pope still asleep. 
 
 Pius VI. had good reason afterward to regret that 
 he had allowed himself to be guided by the counsels 
 of the two generals and the two cardinals. 
 
 When the latter visited him at the Carthusian 
 monastery in Florence, he aroused himself from the 
 lethargy into which he had fallen, and said angrily : 
 " If I had taken the advice of the Abb^ de Salamon 
 and my nephew I should not have been here ! " 
 
 This anecdote has been told me by Duke Braschi 
 himself. 
 
222 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 THE CONSPIRACY OF THE INTEENUNCIO. 
 
 Police Agents at the Internuncio's. — He is Arrested with 
 Madame Blanchet. — The Dungeon of the Prefecture of 
 Police. — Madame Colin. — A Search in the Apartments at 
 Passy. — Madame Grandin again. — A Tragic Night. 
 
 After this short digression, I return to my suhject. 
 I was congratulating myself on my foresight in send- 
 ing a courier to the Pope, and thinking that this same 
 courier was making his way successfully through 
 Switzerland, when all of a sudden Madame Blanchet 
 entered my room — we lived then in the Rue Floren- 
 tin — and said : " Monsieur, there are three men be- 
 longing to the police below; they want to see M. 
 Eysseri Blanchet." 
 
 " Show them up," I answered. 
 
 They entered, and asked to see M. Eysseri Blanchet. 
 
 " I do not know any such person," I replied. 
 
 " In that case we must examine your papers." 
 
 " Just as you like. Yonder is my study, and you 
 can rummage the desks and drawers." 
 
 They found absolutely nothing, except some letters 
 which referred to a sort of commerce I carried on in 
 Switzerland. 
 
 I was in the habit, in fact, of sending many books 
 of piety and all the new publications to the Valais, 
 from whence they were forwarded to the Pope. 
 
THE CONSPIRACY OF THE INTERNUNCIO. 228 
 
 Pius VI. was very inquisitive, and had asked me to 
 supply him with all the books and caricatures that had 
 recently appeared, even those directed against his 
 own person. 
 
 On the other hand, I received chocolate from Italy, 
 and cheese from Gruydre, the invoices of which 
 I kept by me. These rascals, furious at discover- 
 ing nothing else, upset everything in my apart- 
 ments. 
 
 During all this time, Blanchet, who was trembling, 
 did not dare to utter a word. At length, seeing that 
 the hour for dinner was past, she said she would go 
 and bring in the soup. 
 
 " I want to continue my work also," I added ; " I 
 was just racking off a barrel of wine, and I cannot 
 leave it as it is.*' 
 
 " Don't stir, citoyenne I '* cried one of them ; " you 
 must remain where you are." 
 
 ♦* Have you an order to arrest this woman ? Show 
 it to me. She can neither read nor write, and she is 
 here simply to wait upon me." 
 
 " We shall see ; but meanwhile we take it upon 
 ourselves to arrest her." 
 
 Thereupon a man left, and returned an horn- 
 after with a warrant for the widow Blanchet's 
 arrest. 
 
 I recollect there was among these policemen an 
 abominable man, named Bertrand — but he is dead; 
 let him rest. God will avenge me on him. As for 
 myself, besides that God forbids it, I have a nature 
 that scorns revenge. 
 
 The agents drew up a report, which I refused to 
 
224 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 sign, and Blanchet and I were conducted between 
 four men to the police station. 
 
 It was eight in the evening. 
 
 We had to wait an entire hour in this sinister abode, 
 and, during all the time, there were persons coming 
 and going, who looked at us with an air of curiosity, 
 and then went away, murmuring : " They are con- 
 spirators ! " 
 
 At length, I was led into an old-time dungeon, for 
 it was underground and had to be reached by a stair- 
 case. 
 
 Its sole furniture was a miserable pallet, as hard as 
 the floor upon which it was stretched, and a sorry 
 quilt, utterly worn out. There were no sheets. 
 
 Neither was there a seat, except the one in the 
 corner, which served as a water-closet. 
 
 The keeper withdrew, shot the bolts on me, and left 
 me helpless, not inquiring even if I needed food ; yet 
 the only thing I had taken since evening was a little 
 soup. 
 
 I learned the next day that Blanchet had been in- 
 carcerated in a prison devoted to thieves and to those 
 loose women who prowl about the streets. 
 
 As for myself, I never slept a wink the whole night, 
 for I was devoured by fleas and tormented by big 
 mice, animals that have always inspired me with 
 horror. It took up all my time to keep beating the 
 mattress in order to frighten them off. 
 
 Daylight was so long in coming that I awaited it 
 impatiently. This dungeon had only one small win- 
 dow, and that was at the top of the wall, and only 
 received its light from another window opposite to it, 
 
THE CONSPIRACY OF THE INTERNUNCIO. 225 
 
 of about the same size. Even when the sun had risen, 
 therefore, it was so dark that, if I had had a book, I 
 should not have been able to read it. 
 
 About ten, the door was noisily opened, and a 
 pound of black bread, still quite warm, was brought 
 in, as well as a wooden dish containing a little soup 
 and some cabbage cooked with rancid butter ; there 
 were also a pitcher of water and a wooden goblet. 
 
 I should not have been able to see these articles 
 except for the light that penetrated through the half- 
 open door. 
 
 I devoured the crust of the bread greedily, but I 
 could not eat the soft part, which was still warm and 
 almost raw. I threw it into the pitcher, so that the 
 mice might not find it ; but I acted very foolishly, for 
 I obtained no fresh water for two days, and I was 
 forced to drink the water in the pitcher at last. 
 
 I did better afterward, and threw whatever I did 
 not use into the water-closet. 
 
 I remained in this horrible dungeon an entire week, 
 seemingly abandoned by all creation, when suddenly 
 the door was flung back with a great noise : this oc- 
 curred about the middle of the day. 
 
 I was not long in recognizing the wife of my notary, 
 Madame Colin, with whom I had been on friendly 
 terms for a number of years. She was a tender- 
 hearted and kindly woman, a good friend as well 
 as a good mother ; moreover, full of wit and very 
 pretty. " So I am not deserted by every one ! " I 
 said to her. " I am sorry I cannot offer you a chair ; 
 you will have to sit at the foot of the staircase lead- 
 ing to my prison." 
 
 16 
 
226 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 She sat down and gazed on me steadily, and, see- 
 ing me with a beard of eight days' growth, linen 
 almost black, clothes in disorder, and looking alto- 
 gether haggard and forlorn, she burst into tears, 
 crying: "Ah, my friend, in what a condition do I 
 behold you! I have actually almost broken through 
 the walls of the prison to get at you. I have been 
 threatened, have been inscribed on the register as a 
 ' suspect.' No matter ! I was determined to see you. 
 You can hardly imagine what an audacious person 
 I have become! Catch me taking 'no' for an an- 
 swer! Why, I have actually condescended to jest 
 with these creatures ! Think of it ! But you know," 
 she added smiling, "that a pretty woman always 
 gets what she wants in the end, and so, my dear 
 friend, here I am ! But what, in the name of good- 
 ness, have you done? Everybody believes you are 
 a criminal of the deepest dye, and are sure to have 
 your head chopped off. All your friends fight shy 
 of you, for they regard you as a dead man. Tell me 
 what it is all about. You pass for the head and 
 front of an awful conspiracy. It is rumored on all 
 sides that twelve portfolios were found in your house, 
 full of treasonable documents." 
 
 I let her go on as long as she wished, for this 
 excellent woman loves to hear herself talk. I did 
 not attempt to interrupt her once until she had 
 done. 
 
 " Are you sure you have finished ? " said I. " Well, 
 every single thing you have just uttered is a lie, and 
 the whole is a tissue of falsehoods. I have never 
 been told the cause of my arrest. I am not a con- 
 
THE CONSPIRACY OF THE INTERNUNCIO. 227 
 
 spirator, and neither portfolios nor documents have 
 been found in my residence." 
 
 At these words she jumped on my neck, crying : 
 
 ** Is what you tell me quite true ? " 
 
 "Really, you know me well enough not to think 
 me capable of deceiving you, and that at the very 
 moment when you are subjecting yourself to consid- 
 erable annoyance for my sake. What good would 
 it do me any way ? You will soon learn the truth. 
 No, I repeat, I am not a conspirator." 
 
 "How glad you make me! Do not be uneasy, 
 my friend, I am going to work for you. Meanwhile, 
 I must send you some clean linen, bread, a few bot- 
 tles of good wine, and one of those roast turkeys which, 
 as you know well, my cook prepares so skilfully." 
 
 I thanked her with all my heart. 
 
 This visit, which I did not at all expect, was a 
 source of great consolation to me. It was as if an 
 angel had been sent by God to revive my drooping 
 courage. 
 
 Nevertheless, I entreated her not to return before 
 I was examined. I feared she might incur suspicion 
 herself, and perhaps be refused admission. 
 
 From that moment this excellent woman, as full 
 of devotion to her friends as she is of sprightliness 
 and gayety, was constantly on her feet, running to 
 all her acquaintances and telling them that the stories 
 related about me were utterly false, that no letters 
 had been discovered in my house, and that I was 
 wholly in the dark as to the cause of my detention. 
 She incurred considerable risk by her advocacy, but 
 she laughed at danger- 
 
228 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 The result was that my friends began to entertain 
 some hope in my regard and to speak in my favor. 
 
 The police, having learned that I had another resi- 
 dence at Passy, — I kept it for eight years, — resolved 
 to make a thorough search in it ; and the same indi- 
 viduals who arrested me in the Rue Florentin came 
 to my prison to conduct me to Passy, in order that I 
 might be present at the inspection of my papers. 
 
 They offered to provide a carriage to relieve me 
 from the fatigue of a journey on foot. But I saw 
 very well the offer was made for their own sake, not 
 for mine ; so I answered that I could do without it ; 
 they might hire one for themselves if they liked, but 
 most assuredly I had no intention of pa3dng for it. 
 
 We proceeded, then, on our way to Passy, walking 
 along the Seine until we came to Chaillot. 
 
 I perceived Madame d'Aubusson at some distance 
 from me on the road ; she is a charming and estima- 
 ble woman who has always liked me. I did not wish 
 to look in her direction, but she recognized me, and, 
 without exhibiting any alarm, cried : " Good day, my 
 friend! I hope to see you soon." I was afraid I 
 might compromise her, and, addressing the sbirri who 
 attended me : " Whom is that woman speaking to ? " 
 said I. They made no answer. 
 
 When we reached Passy, they demanded permis- 
 sion of the judge and mayor of Passy to search my 
 apartments. 
 
 These gentlemen, who had known me for a long 
 time, were surprised beyond measure at seeing me in 
 custody, and they answered: "Citizens, you must 
 be mistaken. This citizen is a very honest man, and 
 
THE CONSPIRACY OF THE INTERNUNCIO. 229 
 
 has never given any cause for complaint as long as 
 he has lived in this commune." 
 
 Nevertheless, they granted the permission asked 
 for, — indeed, they could not very well refuse it ; but 
 they pushed their interest in me so far as to be 
 present in person at the search. 
 
 The investigation made by my keepers was of the 
 most minute character ; but, having absolutely found 
 nothing of importance, they took possession of some 
 burlesque verses I had composed as a recreation, and 
 of a letter written by my sainted mother. 
 
 I called their attention to the fact that this letter 
 had no interest for any one but myself ; that it was 
 the letter of a tender mother to her son ; and that to 
 deprive me of such a precious souvenir would be an 
 act of indescribable infamy. 
 
 But they turned a deaf ear to my appeal. 
 
 However, I was hungry, and, as I never lose my 
 head in any difficulty, however serious, I lit a fire in 
 the chimney, and sent word to Madame Grandin to 
 bring me bread and biscuits. Madame Grandin was 
 the virago with whom I lodged during the Terror. 
 Whether through curiosity or through a kindlier 
 motive, she hastened to comply with my request. 
 
 Accordingly, I made two excellent cups of choco- 
 late, which I drank in the presence of my jailers. 
 
 When I had finished the second cup, one of them 
 said, — 
 
 " Something inside of me tells me it is about the 
 hour for lunch, and I only wish I could imitate you. 
 This is a tough job we have been working at, and I 
 have a good appetite." 
 
230 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 " Nothing prevents you from imitating me," I an- 
 swered; "there is an excellent restaurant close by, 
 kept by the brother of M. le Juge de Paix ; and," 
 I added, drawing myself up proudly, "the time is 
 past when the victims hired carriages for their execu- 
 tioners and provided banquets for them." 
 
 We returned from Passy on foot also ; it was about 
 four in the evening. 
 
 I was no sooner in the prison than I threw myself 
 on the pallet. I felt very tired, for I had been on 
 my legs since seven in the morning, and had walked 
 over two leagues. 
 
 There was no sign, on my return, of the bad soup 
 and bad bread with which I was in the habit of being 
 regaled ; and, as I asked the reason of this, I was told 
 in reply, that, seeing the door of my prison open, no 
 one expected I should return, but that orders would 
 be given to supply me with the usual fare. 
 
 Nothing came, nevertheless, and for twenty-four 
 hours I had to content myself with a small loaf. 
 
 It was lucky I had swallowed my two cups of 
 chocolate. 
 
 When night fell, I slept better than usual, partly 
 from fatigue, and partly because I had become better 
 acquainted with the mice, and they were losing their 
 terrors for me. 
 
 But I was suddenly startled out of sleep ; the door 
 of the prison was opened. 
 
 The grating noise produced by drawing the bolts al- 
 ways makes a rather alarming impression on prisoners. 
 
 At the same instant, a man entered; he was in 
 rags, and his hair was in wild disorder; he seemed 
 
THE CONSPIRACY OF THE INTERNUNCIO. 231 
 
 drank, and was supported by two gendarmes. When 
 they released him, he rolled on the floor, and then lay 
 like one dead. 
 
 All this horrified me, and I asked who the man 
 was. " He is," was the answer, " an assassin, and 
 will stay here the rest of the night." I could not 
 master the feeling of consternation that took hold 
 of me. 
 
 I entreated, I begged that they would put this man 
 in some other prison. I grew furious, I tried to pre- 
 vent them from shutting the door. But they were 
 deaf to my cries, and, several other persons hurrying 
 to the scene, I was flung back into my dungeon, and 
 left alone with the assassin. 
 
 You may conceive the appalling nature of my 
 situation. 
 
 Every moment I was on the watch, expecting that 
 this wretch, who for the time was dead drunk, would 
 start up from some frenzied dream and murder me, 
 and I was absolutely defenceless. The only resource 
 I had was to cry out and beat the door, until at last 
 voice and strength gave way, and I fell back ex- 
 hausted on my pallet. 
 
 Fortunately, the horrible creature did not stir the 
 whole night, and at five in the morning he was 
 removed. 
 
232 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE INDICTMENT. 
 
 A Letter prom Cardinal Busca. — A Curious Type op an 
 Examining Magistrate. — The Provisions of Madame Colin. 
 
 — "I am Unworthy of Sleeping alongside that Angel." 
 
 — Before the Jury. — He meets Blanchet. 
 
 On the morning of the eleventh day of my im- 
 prisonment, I was informed that I must undergo my 
 first examination. 
 
 Thus, in my case, the law was violated which en- 
 acts that a prisoner be examined within twenty-four 
 hours after his arrest. 
 
 The delay, doubtless, arose from the fact that they 
 were unable to find sufficient evidence against me, 
 and they hoped to discover in the letters that were 
 likely to arrive from Rome fresh matter for my 
 condemnation. 
 
 But, by a special mercy of Providence, the post- 
 man, who was acquainted with my servant,^ met her 
 in the street and handed her two letters. 
 
 However, they managed to get hold of a third, 
 which did me more good than harm. 
 
 It was from the new Secretary of State, Cardinal 
 Busca. He announced his nomination, and told me 
 
 1 The servant he had hired to wait on Blanchet. 
 
THE INDICTMENT. 238 
 
 that I must henceforth correspond with him, adding : 
 " Your employer is well pleased with you, and wishes 
 you to work away at your job." 
 
 I was in the habit of using these words, " employer 
 — yofc," and the cardinal had merely borrowed them 
 from me. 
 
 On reaching the hall where I was to be examined, 
 I saw a little man in black, with his hair powdered, 
 and a harsh, repulsive physiognomy, which he did 
 his best to render amiable, but it was a failure. 
 
 He requested me to sit beside his desk, and asked 
 my name, surname, and profession. "What is the 
 use ? " said I, " you know them." 
 
 " A mere formality, citizen, a mere formality." 
 
 Then I answered the question. 
 
 While he was writing, he mumbled between his 
 teeth, — 
 
 "A conspirator! ah! A traitor to his country I 
 Corresponding with the enemies of the state!" 
 
 At the same moment, I perceived on the comer of 
 the desk a folded letter. I was able to read the head- 
 ing, however. The date — I always date my letters 
 at the top of the page — was in my handwriting. It 
 was like a flash of lightning. "Ah," I thought, 
 " my courier has been arrested, and that 's my 
 letter!" 
 
 But he went on writing, slowly and laboriously. 
 
 This fellow, who, for the misfortune of honest men, 
 is still employed in the police department, had any- 
 thing but a fluent pen, evidently. 
 
 When he had finished, he required me to sign the 
 papers found in my house, and particularly my poor 
 
234 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 mother's letter. " No I " I exclaimed indignantly, " I 
 do not intend to sign I How can you have had the 
 atrociousness to present that dear letter to me, which 
 your hideous satellites have torn from the hands of a 
 son, — that letter which has been the only consolation 
 left to me, and which I have treasured as a relic ! 
 What do you intend doing with it ? Do you make it 
 one of the counts in your indictment ? If you do, I 
 suppose it is because it breathes nothing but tender- 
 ness and piety ! No, I will not sign it ! " 
 
 Then, taking up the letter I had perceived, he 
 handed it to me, saying in an ironical tone, — 
 
 " And this — does this, too, excite the best senti- 
 ments of your affectionate heart? You recognize 
 it, eh?" 
 
 " Before I answer you, citizen, have the goodness 
 to tell me whether you are the person appointed to 
 decide on my case." 
 
 "No, the judge and jury, before whom you are 
 shortly to appear, must look to that." 
 
 " Ah ! so I am to appear in court, and in presence 
 of a jury, am I? Write down, then, that I have 
 nothing more to say to you." 
 
 This determination of mine seemed to embarrass 
 him considerably. He became very mild, he adopted 
 a thousand schemes to get at me; but he had his 
 labor for his pains, he could worm nothing out of me. 
 "I see clearly," I added, "that you are absolutely 
 resolved on finding me guilty. You insult my mis- 
 fortune with your contemptuous and contemptible 
 snickering ; you speak of conspiracy, treason, corre- 
 sponding with the enemies of my country. A hu- 
 
THE INDICTMENT. 285 
 
 mane and compassionate judge does not act precisely 
 in this fashion. I repeat it, you shall learn nothing 
 from me." 
 
 Nevertheless, he persisted in reading my letter to 
 me and demanding explanations of certain passages. 
 
 The only answer he got from me was, "I have 
 nothing to say." 
 
 He was beside himself with rage. His forbidding 
 countenance, although naturally ghastly, became as 
 red as fire. The perspiration stood in big drops on 
 his forehead, as he lashed himself into fury. 
 
 But I remained quite cool and self-possessed. Far 
 from depressing me, the presence of danger usually 
 gives me renewed energy, and it is in such critical 
 moments that the firmness of my nature shows at its 
 best. 
 
 Not being able to make me speak, he thundered 
 out, — 
 
 " Take him back to prison." 
 
 " What ! " I cried, " back to the gloomy dungeon I 
 have just quitted ! Can any one who has the sem- 
 blance of humanity send me again to that infectious 
 den, where no air and no light can penetrate, ex- 
 cept once in every twenty-four hours, when the door 
 is opened?" 
 
 " You will not be there long," he answered in a 
 milder tone. 
 
 In spite of this promise, I had to spend ten more 
 days in this frightful place. 
 
 But on the next day, my prison was opened earlier 
 than usual, and I received from Madame Colin all 
 that she had told me she would send. The excellent 
 
236 MEMOIRS OF Mgb. SALAMON. 
 
 lady had got permission to supply me with whatever 
 I wanted. 
 
 The parcel contained a turkey, two bottles of white 
 wine and one of Malaga, bread, and linen. 
 
 I fell on my knees and thanked God that there was 
 still some one left to take an interest in me. 
 
 I begged the servant to carry half the turkey and a 
 bottle of white wine to Madame Blanchet. 
 
 Blanchet prevailed on the keeper of her prison to 
 go and thank me in her behalf, and to tell me she 
 was not as badly off as I was, but that she was living 
 among bad women, and this troubled her a good deal. 
 Still, those poor women treated her with great respect. 
 
 She related to me afterward that one of these un- 
 fortunate creatures had a very pretty daughter. She 
 said to Blanchet : " You seem to me to be an honest 
 woman ; and so I am going to ask you a favor : Would 
 you mind letting this little child sleep with you ? I 
 am imworthy to sleep alongside this angel." 
 
 Blanchet made some objections at first ; it was dis- 
 tasteful to her to consent, but she yielded in the end. 
 
 After that, these women could not do enough for 
 her ; they forced on her all the best they had, and it 
 must be confessed they fared well, for they were con- 
 stantly receiving presents of fine young turkeys from 
 their friends outside. 
 
 At length, after an imprisonment of twenty-one 
 days, I was summoned to appear before the tribunal 
 whose office it was to investigate the charges against 
 me. 
 
 It was now the month of December, and it was, 
 perhaps, about seven in the evening. 
 
THE INDICTMENT. 287 
 
 I found Madame Blanchet in the anteroom. An 
 affecting scene took place. ** I am told," she cried, 
 throwing herself at my feet, " that I am never to see 
 you more. It is not for myself I am anxious, but for 
 you. This time, monsieur, I cannot save you, but, 
 at least, I can die with you. As my poor child is 
 gone, I have nothing now to wish for on this earth.'* 
 
 You can easily imagine the effort I had to make 
 not to give way to my emotion ; but the resignation 
 of this faithful servant was too much for me, and I 
 could not keep the tears from coming to my eyes. 
 
 I raised her with difficulty, and said, in tones I 
 tried to render firm, — 
 
 " Calm yourself ; you will soon be out of prison. It 
 is utteriy impossible for them to condemn you to any 
 penalty, even the slightest, for you do not know how 
 to read or write, and there can be no charge against 
 you. And if I have to die, is it not something to 
 die with honor, to die without reproach ? " 
 
 After I had finished, I was conducted into the 
 presence of the court. 
 
 The name of the president was Legras. I had 
 formerly had some intercourse with him. 
 
 He addressed me at once, saying : " Here are your 
 ' letters.' " 
 
 He pointed to two : one for Cardinal Antonelli, the 
 Dean of the Sacred College ; the other for Cardinal 
 Frangini, Patriarch of Venice, who was my intimate 
 friend. I became acquainted with him at Paris, when 
 I was Auditor of the Rota. 
 
 " It is by your despatches," resumed Legras, " that 
 you wiU be judged. I do not care at present to sub- 
 
238 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 ject you to a disagreeable examination. Accordingly, 
 you are going to be transferred to a legal prison, 
 where you will await our decision." 
 
 "Monsieur,*' I answered, "you haye known me 
 formerly, and you know my profession. I could 
 never have imagined that a priest might be trans- 
 formed into a suspect for simply corresponding with 
 the head of his religion, or that he could be hindered 
 from doing so, if he chose. I do not make you any 
 petition on my own behalf, but I earnestly entreat 
 you to have Madame Blanchet set at liberty. This 
 woman can neither read nor write, and, if I have taken 
 the name of her son, who is no longer alive, I did so 
 without her knowledge." 
 
 Legras made no answer, and I was removed. 
 
AT THE GRANDE FORCE. 239 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AT THE GRANDE FORCE. 
 
 The Internuncio at the Grande Force. — The only consola- 
 tion THE Convicts have. — The Internuncio's Letters to 
 the Sardinian and Spanish Ambassadors: their Pusillan- 
 imous Conduct. — M. Racin, Founder of the " Spectateur." — 
 The Infirmary of the Grande Force — The Adventures op 
 A Worthy Native of Montmartre. — Blanchet is Free. — 
 Adieu to the Grande Force. 
 
 I WAS conducted to the Grande Force. It was the 
 most important of the prisons destined for robbers 
 and assassins. As for Blanchet, she was transferred 
 to the Madelonnettes, situated near the Temple. 
 
 Escorted by three police agents, I arrived at this 
 dreadful prison. The entrance is extremely low, and 
 as it was night and my mind was preoccupied, I could 
 not measure the height of the door, and I knocked 
 my head violently against the wall. The force of 
 the collision was so great that it shook me to pieces, 
 and I could not help crying : " Ah ! I am fainting ! 
 help I " 
 
 My head pained me excessively during the three 
 days following, but no one paid any attention to me. 
 
 I entered the clerk's office, and a charge of con- 
 spiracy and of corresponding with the enemies of the 
 
240 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 country was entered on the books. Then the coti- 
 cierge spoke a word to the keeper, who led me to one 
 of the cells. 
 
 It was larger than the one I had left, but lighted in 
 pretty much the same manner ; that is to say, it had 
 one little Avindow, crossed with iron bars and very 
 high up. The frame could be opened by means of a 
 cord. 
 
 The bed was laid on two benches. It consisted of a 
 hard mattress, a quilt all in rags, from having been so 
 much used, and a pair of sheets that looked as if they 
 had been employed to sail a boat. 
 
 There were two others with me in this cell ; they 
 were convicts who had been condemned to twenty 
 years' hard labor, and had been put here until the 
 time came for the departure of the gang. 
 
 It was about nine in the evening. 
 
 I stretched myself in my clothes on the mattress, 
 taking the precaution to cover the pillow with my 
 handkercliief. I lay there as insensible as a log, and 
 stiff with cold. Nevertheless, I fell asleep. Some one 
 has said that misfortune has often a sort of soporific 
 virtue, and brings on sleep. 
 
 But the noise made by a person striking a flint 
 startled me out of my slumbers. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " I cried. 
 
 " Nothing, monsieur. We are only trying to get a . 
 light, as we want to smoke." 
 
 " Want to smoke ! Why, night is made for sleep- 
 ing, not smoking I " 
 
 " We are in the habit of smoking every night for a 
 couple of hours. We do not venture to do so in the 
 
AT THE GRANDE FORCE. 241 
 
 daytime, for no one knows that we have a flint If it 
 annoys yon, we *11 smoke only for an hour." 
 
 " Certainly it annoys me. 1 may as well give up all 
 thought of sleeping, if you smoke." 
 
 I had hardly said these words, when I was envel- 
 oped in a thick cloud. The odor was most disgust- 
 ing, and there was no passage by which it might 
 escape. 
 
 " Really," I said to them, " I am surprised that 
 prisoners condemned to the galleys should have the 
 privilege of making me sick in this way." 
 
 "Do not be angry, monsieur; we shall open the 
 window very eariy, and then you won't feel any 
 inconvenience." 
 
 " Be sure to do so then ! Certainly I should have 
 good ground for complaining of your nasty habit, but 
 I do not care to deprive you of the only pleasure you 
 have in this world." 
 
 At this time, the old servant I had hired for Blanchet 
 was allowed to visit me, and acquitted herself to my 
 satisfaction of the various commissions with which I 
 charged her. 
 
 My food was nearly the same as that which I had 
 received at the Prefecture of Police. 
 
 Five weeks slipped by without the occurrence of 
 any noteworthy incident, except the singular visit 
 paid me by a member of the Central Bureau. 
 
 This personage, who was dressed in his tricolor 
 scarf, examined me from head to foot, as if he was 
 looking at some wild beast, and then departed without 
 saying a word. 
 
 In the mean time, I procured a copy of the criminal 
 16 
 
242 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 code. I saw clearly in it that the penalty for the 
 crime with which I was charged was death. 
 
 Nevertheless, I resolved to defend myself, and I set 
 about composing a memorial reciting the facts of my 
 case. I also wrote a letter to the Marquis del Campo, 
 to whom the court of Rome had recommended me. 
 
 On the other hand, the minister of the King of 
 Sardinia wrote in my favor to M. Balbo, who acted 
 as ambassador to the Directory. He told him to fly 
 to my assistance. 
 
 But I have since learned that neither the Spanish 
 nor the Sardinian ambassador made the slightest effort 
 to help me. They even wrote to their respective courts 
 that the matter was very serious, and that it would be 
 wise not to interfere. 
 
 I was very indignant, but particularly with M. 
 Balbo. 
 
 Accordingly, when these gentlemen presented 
 themselves at my house after my release, I sent 
 them word that I declined to receive them, and that 
 I had made the Pope aware of their conduct. 
 
 Meanwhile, a clerk in the office of the Ministry of 
 the Interior came to visit our prison. It was at that 
 time, like all the others, under the surveillance of 
 this ministry. 
 
 This clerk was the founder of a great journal enti- 
 tled the " Spectateur," in which I used to insert arti- 
 cles relative to Roman affairs. 
 
 When he entered my cell he recognized me, and 
 cried : " What ! you here ! Why, how did you man- 
 age to get into these quarters ? If you had written 
 to me, you should not have stayed here an hour." 
 
AT THE GRANDE FORCE. 243 
 
 I embraced and thanked him, saying, — 
 
 "I have been abandoned by everybody. I have 
 thought of you often, but I was afraid I might injure 
 you. I do not wish to be the occasion of harm to 
 others.** 
 
 Then he addressed the keeper who accompanied 
 him, — 
 
 " You will see that this gentleman has an apartment 
 in the infirmary. He requires medical treatment; I 
 take the responsibility upon my own shoulders." 
 
 The result was that I was immediately transferred 
 to the infirmary. 
 
 This building had all the air of a substantial citi- 
 zen's residence, and formed a strong contrast to the 
 rest of the gloomy prison. You saw neither bars on 
 the windows nor bolts on the doors, and there was 
 no objection to walking in any of the courts if you 
 wished. Then, the food was of the best, and we 
 could get whatever we desired from the outside, — 
 by paying for it well, of course. 
 
 Moreover, my sojourn in this favored spot gave me 
 opportunities of becoming acquainted with a number 
 of the emigres^ particularly with M. de Gacecourt, 
 who had been there very long. 
 
 My bed was all I could desire: two good mat- 
 tresses, clean sheets, and suitable covering. 
 
 I met six persons after entering. They were jour- 
 nalists who had been condemned to death in their 
 absence, in Venddmiaire, and who had surrendered, 
 in order to purge themselves of their contempt of 
 court 
 
 All were released a little after. They took great 
 
214 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOX. 
 
 interest in me, and wished to defend me in their 
 papers ; but I begged them earnestly not to do any- 
 thing of the sort. 
 
 I will say, in reference to this matter, that M. la 
 Devize, then proprietor of the " Journal des D^bats," 
 and M. Nicole, editor of another newspaper, continued 
 to give reports of my trial, in spite of a formal re- 
 quest on my part not to do so. These reports were 
 not only very correct, but very friendly to me, and 
 they undoubtedly were effective in winning public 
 favor for my side of the case, by enlightening the 
 people as to its true nature. 
 
 The only one of the journalists who took the side 
 of the Directory was an ex-Benedictine monk, named 
 Poultier,! a famous Conventionnel. But his opposi- 
 tion did me more good than harm. 
 
 I requested M. Racin to inform Madame Colin of 
 the happy change that had occurred in my situation. 
 
 This lady visited me, after she heard the good 
 news, at least three times every week. We used to 
 drink chocolate together, for I began to take it as 
 soon as I entered the infirmary. The old servant came 
 also to see me, and brought me all that I needed. 
 
 Among the other persons I met in the infirmary 
 was a Frenchman who had been butler to a rich Eng- 
 lish lord for over thirty years, and had amassed sixty 
 thousand francs in his service in guineas. 
 
 He was a fanatic, and had such a horror of royalty 
 
 ^ He was the editor-in-chief of the " Ami des Lois." The following 
 anecdote is told of him in " Le R^dacteur," 3d of March, 1 797 : " A repre- 
 sentative of the people asked Poultier the other day why he published 
 such absurd and atrocious calumnies in his journal. 'Why,' he an- 
 swered, ' these are the things that sell the paper ! ' " 
 
AT THE GRANDE FORCE. 245 
 
 that he had changed his name of Leroy to Mont- 
 martre, the faubourg in which he was born. 
 
 When he learned that a revolution was going on 
 amongst us, he was wild with joy. He left his mas- 
 ter, realized his fortune, abandoned his wife, and set 
 out for France. 
 
 He was no sooner landed than he was arrested as 
 an Smigri, and thrown into the^prison of La Force. 
 After he was locked up, he wrote to his wife giving 
 her a full account of his misfortune. "What, my 
 dear I" she replied, ironically, "is it possible that 
 the very moment you placed your foot on the soil of 
 liberty, you have fallen into slavery ! " 
 
 Notwithstanding his little eccentricities, however, 
 he was a very worthy man. 
 
 He had travelled extensively with his master, and 
 knew several foreign languages. Among others, he 
 spoke Provencal, and, for a wonder, with the correct 
 accent ; a thing very rare in the case of Parisians. 
 
 He was fond of my society, and, to show his friend- 
 ship, he concocted every day a new dish for my din- 
 ner, after a fashion known only to himself ; and I 
 must acknowledge that the fare he set before me was 
 always delicious. 
 
 He also insisted on my drinking at the same time 
 one or two glasses of Bordeaux, and when I remarked 
 that it was a very costly wine, " Don't be uneasy," 
 said he, " drink as much as you want ; there are still 
 some of the guineas left." 
 
 Yet he would never consent to sit down to table 
 with me. 
 
 I really became very much attached to him, and 
 
246 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 was glad to be able to do him some good, for he was 
 liable to fits of dejection, during which I did my best 
 to console him. 
 
 I received news every day from Madame Blanchet. 
 She wanted for nothing, but she was growing very 
 tired of her prison. 
 
 At length came the moment when I must appear 
 before the tribunal which was to deal with my case. 
 
 I descended to the yard and perceived a hideous 
 van drawn by two horses. It had three little grated 
 windows, which, as well as a door closed by bolts, 
 gave it the appearance of a dungeon. 
 
 I recoiled in horror at the spectacle, and when I 
 was invited to enter, I cried, — 
 
 " I prefer to go on foot ! " 
 
 "What you ask is impossible, and you ought to 
 know it," was the answer. 
 
 But I resisted, and they had to put me by force 
 into this prison on wheels, which looked to me like 
 the vestibule of death. 
 
 I felt terribly humiliated, I was treated as if I were 
 the most criminal of men, and three felons were in- 
 stalled in the vehicle along with me. We set out 
 escorted by three gendarmes on horseback, and the 
 carriage started at a headlong pace, the horses being 
 evidently very fresh. 
 
 I meditated, as we proceeded, on this method of 
 dealing with criminals, and I regarded it as a refine- 
 ment of cruelty. Then, returning to my own lament- 
 able position, I felt completely depressed and appre- 
 hensive, and the tears came to my eyes. 
 
 We soon reached the steps of the Palais de Justice. 
 
AT THE GRANDE FORCE. 247 
 
 A large crowd was massed on each side of them, 
 and when one of us. got out of the carriage, there was 
 the greatest curiosity and excitement. 
 
 I was one of the last to alight, and I heard dis- 
 tinctly some one murmuring: "Decidedly, that fellow 
 does not look like a scoundrel." 
 
 I may as well publish the reason of this compli- 
 tary criticism : I was shaved and powdered, for, after 
 entering the infirmary, I had resumed my daily habits. 
 
 I was ushered into the presence of the president ; 
 he asked me a few questions and said : " You can 
 now withdraw ; you will know your fate to-morrow." 
 
 This time, there was no sign of Madame Blanchet, 
 and I thought it argued well for the poor woman. 
 
 I was led back to the Conciergerie in the same 
 manner in which I left it I slept little that night, 
 nor did I eat anything before going to bed. I was 
 terribly downcast, and I found it impossible to banish 
 my melancholy thoughts. 
 
 On the next day, just as I had finished my choco- 
 late, an usher entered and notified me that there was 
 sufficient evidence to hold me, and that I should be 
 transferred on the next day to the prisons of the 
 Conciergerie, bordering on the Palais, there to await 
 my trial. 
 
 I learned at the same time that the tribunal had 
 decided there were no grounds for prosecuting 
 Citoyenne Blanchet, and had ordered her to be imme- 
 diately set at liberty. 
 
 This news overwhelmed me with joy. My faithful 
 friend and servant was out of prison and henceforth 
 in safety! It made me so happy that I had no 
 
248 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 thoughts for my own position, and the idea that I was 
 about to take the road to the Conciergerie — that is 
 to say, the road that, in nearly every case, leads to 
 the scaffold — did not dismay me in the least. 
 
 In the evening, I paid my farewell visits to the 
 emigre prisoners. They were all very much moved. 
 
 I saw also my dear Montmartre and embraced him 
 tenderly. He shed tears when he learned I was leav- 
 ing the infirmary. 
 
 Many of those gentlemen, whom I met afterward, 
 confessed that they never hoped to see me again, so 
 sinister were the rumors that were circulated in refer- 
 ence to my trial. 
 
 It was actually with real sorrow that I stepped out 
 of the prison on the next day. It had grown to look 
 to me like the face of a friend. When we are unfor- 
 tunate, we sometimes form these sorts of attachments. 
 
THE CONCIERGERIE. 249 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE CONCIERGERIE. 
 
 Thb Imtbsnuiioio in the Conoibrokrib. — HoNBST Richard.— 
 Tub Abb& Brottier and M. db Cani. — Riohard's Cook. — 
 Anecdotes of Marie Antoinette. — The Internuncio's Com- 
 panions IN Misfortune. — The Queen's Spaniel. 
 
 I WAS driven to the Conciergerie in the same hor- 
 rible equipage in which I rode the evening before ; 
 but this time I was its sole occupant. A clerk wrote 
 my name in the jail-book, with the same comments : 
 accused of conspiracy and corresponding with the 
 enemies of the country. 
 
 These formalities, which were rather tedious, being 
 got through, the commissary, who was delegated by 
 the public prosecutor and was present, said to the 
 concierge, a man named Richard : " You are answer- 
 able for this prisoner ; see that he is locked up in a 
 secure place." 
 
 " I have long known this prisoner," returned Rich- 
 ard. " I have seen him come here in quite a different 
 style from that in which he came to-day, — he was 
 then visiting the prisons as commissary of the king, 
 and now he is a prisoner himself. But I answer foy 
 him ; you may be sure I shall not lose sight of him." 
 
 When we were alone, this honest man said to me : 
 
 " I shall be obliged to see that you sleep behind 
 bolts and bars, but during the daytime you will stay 
 
250 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 in my own apartments ; you will take your meals 
 along with me and see any one you like, provided 
 you tell your visitors to ask my permission. More- 
 over, I will have a stove put into your cell, and you 
 can sleep on two mattresses which belonged to that 
 poor woman " — he meant the queen — " who died on 
 the scaffold. They ought to be good, for they cost 
 me dear enough. I had to serve six months in the 
 Madelonnettes for buying them." 
 
 I thanked him from the bottom of my heart. 
 
 We settled that I was to pay four francs a day for 
 my board. He told me I might invite whom I pleased 
 to dinner, and he could get them a very fair repast 
 for three francs a head, including coffee and liqueurs. 
 
 Quite a number of my friends, in fact, flocked to 
 see me. Many ladies visited me, among others, the 
 Comtesse d'Aubusson, Madame d'Aulnay, and the 
 Vicomtesse d'AUemane. I kept a sort of salon from 
 seven to ten in the evening, in which were gathered 
 a miscellaneous company of lawyers, booksellers, pub- 
 lishers, and ecclesiastics ; among the latter was M. de 
 Cani, to-day the respected cur^ of Bonne-Nouvelle, 
 who, although he did not know me, placed his purse 
 at my disposal. 
 
 I also received striking proofs of the interest 
 which certain august personages deigned to take in 
 my lot. The Abbd Brottier, whom I barely saw 
 once before, came and offered me assistance in the 
 name of the princes. He acted as their agent. He 
 was afterwards arrested and deported to Guiana,^ 
 where he died. 
 
 1 After the conspiracy of La Villeheurnois (March, 1797) in which 
 he was implicated. 
 
THE CONCIERGERIE. 251 
 
 I refused all these offers ; indeed, I was very much 
 surprised that the report of my misfortunes should 
 have spread through such distant countries. 
 
 The cook of Richard was a woman who well de- 
 served to occupy a higher position. Her thoughts 
 were so elevated and her manner so refined that I 
 could not conceal from her my astonishment at find- 
 ing her a servant in the Conciergerie. The following 
 is the explanation she gave me of the matter. 
 
 She had been an old friend of Richard's wife, and 
 was present when the latter, who was actuated by the 
 most humane feeling for the prisoners, had been slain 
 by a wretch just about to set out for the galleys, and 
 that at the very time when she was consoling him and 
 giving him money. As the poor woman was leaning 
 forward to embrace him, he plunged his knife into 
 her heart and stretched her dead at his feet ; ^ nor was 
 any one ever able to learn the cause of such monstrous 
 ingratitude. "And so I remained," added the ser- 
 vant, " with M. Richard, who indeed is disgusted 
 with his position and well fitted to occupy a higher 
 one." 
 
 She had herself attended to the wants of the royal 
 victims with the most tender solicitude. She was in 
 the habit of brushing the boots of her Majesty every 
 morning. " And they used to be as dirty," she said, 
 " on account of the dampness of the prison, as if the 
 queen had walked the whole length of the Rue 
 Saint-Honor^." 
 
 She also related that the noble personages who 
 
 1 A very correct account of an incident which the memoirs of the 
 period mention as occurring in Messidor (20 June — 19 July) 1796. 
 
252 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 were then imprisoned in the Conciergerie came every 
 morning, during the time allowed for exercise, and 
 kissed the slippers of the unfortunate princess. 
 
 It was the same servant who, on seeing the queen 
 go to the scaffold with neck uncovered and without a 
 cap, threw her own kerchief over her shoulders and 
 placed a cap she had received that morning as a New 
 Year's gift, on her head. 
 
 I had the good fortune to be of service to this ad- 
 mirable woman, when her master died. I procured 
 her a position in the household of the Marquise de 
 Crdqui, niece of Comte de Muy, minister of war, and 
 one of my oldest friends. But, after the death of 
 this lady, I was constantly travelling, and have not 
 been able to learn what has become of the woman 
 whose acquaintance I made in the Conciergerie. 
 
 This good servant took the greatest care of me. 
 "When I received in the evening, she regulated the 
 number of tapers, intended to light the apartment, by 
 the number of guests. She used to answer my ob- 
 jections by saying that I was not born to live in 
 obscurity, and, moreover, the tapers cost us nothing. 
 
 Indeed, but for the sad thought that my death was 
 probably near at hand, I felt almost as comfortable as 
 if I were in my own house. 
 
 Surely I ought to be grateful to God for having 
 given me such a gentle disposition that all who be- 
 come acquainted with me soon learn to love me ; an 
 experience I have enjoyed tlu-ough all the misfortunes 
 of my life. 
 
 I spent the evening in conversation with M. Rich- 
 ard, and we even often supped together. He antici- 
 
THE CONCIERGERIE. 253 
 
 pated all my desires, and was particularly careful to 
 have some excellent fish and salad on the table, for 
 he observed I was very partial to these two dishes, 
 as well as to potatoes fried in butter. 
 
 My good Richard was so fond of my company, that 
 we sometimes remained at the table until two in the 
 morning. He never left me except for a few mo- 
 ments at ten, when he went to visit the prisoners. 
 
 Some of the stories he told me about these rascals 
 were truly surprising. Their attempts to escape kept 
 him in continual anxiety. Although they had not a 
 single tool, they used to construct keys of lead which 
 opened the doors noiselessly. He seized, at one time, 
 six of these keys, which worked perfectly; there was 
 only one wanting, that of the street door. He showed 
 the whole six to me. I asked him how he managed 
 to discover everything. He answered that in all the 
 prisons containing several prisoners a spy was kept, 
 who received very high wages. 
 
 The wives of the prisoners were also a source of 
 constant trouble when they visited them. Search 
 them as closely as they could, these women always 
 succeeded in concealing something in the shape of 
 tin, lead and plaster, which they transferred success- 
 fully to their husbands. 
 
 I tried to prolong our conversation as long as pos- 
 sible, for I disliked so much going to my cell and 
 being locked in with big bolts and big keys, that I 
 should have preferred never lying down, if I could. 
 
 However, when I did enter it, I found it very warm, 
 thanks to the stove; sometimes, it was even too 
 much so. 
 
254 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 But when I was there, I was pursued by the« black- 
 est thoughts. I found it impossible to sleep before 
 daybreak, and then my slumbers were broken into by 
 my rascally neighbors, who, as soon as the sun rose, 
 created a frightful uproar with their singing and 
 shouting. 
 
 Once, I perceived one of them walking in the yard. 
 Although it was piercing cold, he was in his shirt. He 
 was reading his indictment, while smoking his pipe. 
 " Gracious ! " he repeated every other minute — he did 
 not say " gracious ! " but the terms he did use are a 
 little too emphatic for reproduction — "gracious! I 
 am lost, for a dead certainty ! " 
 
 My enforced retirement from the world has con- 
 vinced me that these poor creatures are more to be 
 pitied than we think. 
 
 However, I told Richard's servant in secret that I 
 felt the greatest repugnance to entering my cell, and 
 especially at seeing myself locked in behind bolts and 
 bars. She hastened to repeat what I had said to her 
 master, and he gave orders that my cell should be 
 opened at daybreak. 
 
 The first moniing that I benefited by this measure 
 I saw, just as the door opened, a lap-dog run in and 
 jump on my bed. It went all round it, then leaped 
 down and was out of the room in a flash. It was the 
 queen's pet. Richard had found it after the death 
 of its mistress, and took the greatest care of it. 
 
 In this fashion, it came every morning at daybreak 
 and went through the same movements, during three 
 entire months. I made every effort to catch it, but 
 always failed. 
 
THE CRIMINAL TRIBUNAL. 265 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE CRIMINAL TRHJUNAL. 
 
 At thb Registrar's Office. — Iw Court. — Presidekt Gohier. 
 — The Indictment. — Intervention of Boulanger, Commis- 
 sary OF the Directory. — The Editor of the J" Ami du 
 Peuple." — Richard's Granddacghter. — Some New Anec- 
 dotes OF Marie Antoinette, the Dukb of ORLtANS, and 
 Madame Elizabeth. 
 
 I HAD been now five weeks at the Conciergerie, 
 and, but for the deprival of my liberty, I might have 
 felt quite happy. I was well fed and allowed to re- 
 ceive the visits of my friends. 
 
 But at length I was notified that I must appear at 
 the Registry of the Palais de Justice, in order to re- 
 ceive the list of my jurors. 
 
 I was compelled to descend by a dark staircase, 
 made inside the wall. The staircase leads to a sub- 
 terranean passage connecting with the Palais. 
 
 All the thieves who were to be tried during the 
 month came with me, and I was compelled to endure 
 the humiliation of forming one of this gang of male- 
 factors. 
 
 But I had to resign myself, and, for an hour, I 
 waited my turn amongst them, in a large apartment 
 that was almost dark, extremely damp, and very 
 foul-smelling. 
 
256 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 At length, I was summoned, and the list of the 
 jurors was placed in my hand. It contained a dozen 
 names. I was told I had twenty-four hours in which 
 to accept or reject them, but, in the latter case, the 
 trial would be adjourned for a month, for it is only 
 every month that the names of the jurors are drawn 
 by lot. 
 
 Although I was not acquainted with any of them, 
 I answered that I wished to be tried and would run 
 the risk of accepting them, even if they were badly 
 disposed in my regard. 
 
 On the next day, I was led into court. 
 
 The charge against me was of a somewhat unusual 
 character, and so an extraordinary tribunal had been 
 instituted for its trial, as when crimes of an abnor- 
 mally serious character are to be judged. 
 
 This arrangement was as little calculated to reas- 
 sure me as was the dismal procession which accom- 
 panied me to the bar, and which was composed of 
 the jailer of the Conciergerie, two ushers, and two 
 turnkeys in front, with two gendarmes, armed to the 
 teeth, bringing up the rear. 
 
 I was obliged to take my seat between these two 
 gendarmes, yes, to sit on the prisoner's bench, or, 
 '* stool of repentance," as it used to be called, I, who 
 a few years before, sat on the fleur-de-lis in this very 
 court, and dispensed justice to the subjects of the 
 king. 
 
 As soon as I was seated, I cast my eyes around the 
 haU. It was full to overflowing, for the crowd was 
 packed even beyond the doors. On the bench next 
 to that of the lawyers, I perceived the civil authori- 
 
THE CRIMINAL TRIBUNAL. 267 
 
 ties of the village of Passy ; they were there to testify 
 in my favor. I also noticed that a great number of 
 my friends were present ; many of them saluted me, 
 and I returned their salutation. 
 
 I had recovered all my courage, and, in spite of 
 this menacing array of power, which might well serve 
 to intimidate me, I felt the utmost calmness and 
 serenity. In such extremities, it is God, and God 
 alone, who can enable us to enjoy the tranquillity of 
 a good conscience. I had, in fact, been to confession 
 a short time before, and had set all my little affairs 
 in order. 
 
 The judges soon took their seats. The presiding 
 justice was Gohier, a renowned Jacobin, and after- 
 ward one of the five Directors.^ The twelve jurors 
 were in front of me. At the right of the judges, sat 
 the public prosecutor and his ushers, and, on the left, 
 but a little lower down, the commissary of the 
 Directory, who was called Boulanger. 
 
 It was in every respect an unprecedented trial. 
 There was actually no charge against me; neither 
 complainant nor witness was on hand to accuse me ; 
 but I had to confront the terrible power that perse- 
 cuted me, — the Directory. 
 
 However, I was fighting for our holy religion, and 
 in the cause of God, whose providence watches 
 over the innocent and is stronger than the wiles and 
 wickedness of men. 
 
 When all were seated, citizen Legras read the in- 
 dictment, which he himself had drawn up. This indi- 
 vidual, who had treated me with seeming respect and 
 
 1 In 1799. 
 
 17 
 
258 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 politeness at the time I was leaving the police station, 
 preferred the most abominable charges against me 
 in this document. If I had been a felon, blackened 
 with every crime in the calendar, he could not have 
 indulged in more loathsome assaults on my charac- 
 ter. He missed his mark, however ; the reading was 
 heard with angry and prolonged murmurs by the 
 audience. 
 
 When he had finished, the commissary of the 
 Directory rose and said : — 
 
 "The commissary who has drawn up the indict- 
 ment has not seized the point of the accusation pre- 
 cisely, and has not stated plainly the crime of the 
 prisoner. He is not accused of conspiracy, but of 
 corresponding with the enemies of the state. I re- 
 quire, therefore, that the indictment be quashed and 
 a new one drawn up on a different basis. Conse- 
 quently I must ask for an adjournment, and that the 
 accused be remanded." 
 
 I did not wait for the decision of the judges, and 
 I demanded to be heard. 
 
 "Prisoner," replied the president, "you are at 
 liberty to speak." 
 
 "So then," I said, " it is not a sentiment of justice 
 or of mercy that actuates the Directory; what it 
 wants is that I should be again shackled with the 
 fetters that were about to drop from my limbs, and 
 that I should continue to languish in a dungeon. It 
 sees clearly that I must be discharged, for every 
 count in the indictment is as false, as manifestly 
 false, as it is odious. 
 
 " Well, then, I insist on my trial being proceeded 
 
THE CRIMINAL TRIBUNAL. 259 
 
 with, and that immediately ; at least, I shall have the 
 advantage and the consolation of knowing that the 
 jurors in whose presence I am, and who are to decide 
 on my fate, are men of the highest respectability and 
 worth. 
 
 " I know, too, that no charge can be brought against 
 me. For, in order to be guilty of conspiracy, I must 
 have had accomplices. Where are they? Where is 
 the conspirator who betrayed the secret ? Where are 
 the witnesses ? Where is the accuser ? I pause for 
 a reply. 
 
 " Every one is silent : even the public prosecutor 
 does not dare to raise his voice. 
 
 " Doubtless, M. le Commissaire du Directoire must 
 have made merry over the amusing spectacle I afforded 
 him, when he beheld me dragged through the streets 
 of Paris in a sort of iron cage, like some wild beast, 
 exposed to the curiosity of the crowd ; no doubt, his 
 gentle heart is beating with eagerness for a repetition 
 of this charming exhibition. But no, it shall not be I 
 I demand that the indictment be maintained in its 
 integrity. I am ready to defend myself against any 
 and every charge, no matter how formidable it may 
 appear, ay, and defend myself successfully, unless 
 justice be banished from that tribunal. 
 
 '* For that matter, my counsel is here present, and 
 will support my demand." 
 
 M. Bellart was my counsel. I had requested him 
 to advise me, for I was unacquainted with the new 
 forms of criminal procedure ; and also to aid me in my 
 defence, for I had the fullest confidence in his ability. 
 
 But all our efforts were vain ; we had to succumb. 
 
260 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOX. 
 
 The indictment was quashed ; I was led back to the 
 Conciergerie, where the clerk informed me I was to 
 be transferred to La Force. 
 
 I asked M. Richard whether he could not manage 
 to keep me in the Conciergerie. 
 
 " I only wish I could," he answered. " I will speak 
 to the public prosecutor." 
 
 He had the good luck to be successful, and I 
 remained under the guardianship of this excellent 
 man. 
 
 The feast of the Epiphany fell upon the next day. 
 I handed a louis to Richard, and asked him to treat 
 the turnkeys of the Conciergerie, who had all been 
 very kind to me. So there was quite a festival in the 
 prison, especially in the kitchen of M. Richard. 
 
 I have noticed that people living in prisons are 
 very fond of eating and drinking. 
 
 The authorities of Passy paid me a visit. I begged 
 them to call at my house in the Rue Florentin. They 
 were received by Madame Blanchet, whom I had 
 previously instructed to prepare a dinner for them. 
 
 So everybody fared well, except myself. 
 
 At length, M. Louis d'Aulnay came, on my invita- 
 tion, to dine with me. It was absolutely necessary 
 for me to find some method of getting rid of my 
 thoughts ; the delay in my trial had upset me com- 
 pletely. 
 
 As I was walking up and down the parlor, the same 
 evening, a little man with a brown face entered ab- 
 ruptly and said to me : — 
 
 " Citizen, every one is wild over Legras' indictment 
 and the conduct of the commissary of the Directory. 
 
THE CRIMINAL TRIBUNAL. 261 
 
 You see before you the advocate of the oppressed I 
 Do you wish me to undertake your defence in my 
 journal? for I have one, and although the villanous 
 intrigues of my enemies retain me in prison, I still 
 continue to edit it" 
 
 "I am very grateful, citizen. Pray, what is the 
 name of your journal ? " 
 
 " The ' Ami du Peuple/ " ^ 
 
 " The ' Ami du Peuple ' ? Oh I for goodness' sake, 
 don't say anything in my behalf. I am sincerely 
 thankful to you, I assure you, but I prefer to defend 
 myself before the tribunal." 
 
 Upon this, I dismissed him politely. 
 
 My second month in jail passed off in pretty much 
 the same way as the first. 
 
 Madame Colin continued to take chocolate with me 
 several times a week. She often even returned to see 
 me before dinner. She is so kind and amiable as well 
 as blithe and witty, that it was impossible to feel gloomy 
 on the days she visited me. I always took care to have 
 mjrself shaven and my peruke well powdered when I 
 expected her arrival. 
 
 In short, I acted in prison exactly as I should have 
 done, were I at liberty. 
 
 M. Richard was the grandfather of a very beautiful 
 young girl of twenty-two. She was as meek as an 
 angel, and her manners and appearance were those of 
 a refined and well-educated lady. She came to see me 
 
 1 It is in little matters like this that the internuncio's accuracy can 
 be so easily verified. " Lebois, * the Friend of the People/ has beeii 
 arrested for the third time, and this for treating the Directory as the 
 Directory deserves/' says the "Eclair" of 23 December, 1796. The 
 "Moniteur " adds : " Lebois was released on the 9th of January." 
 
262 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 nearly every morning, and we dined together, when 
 she came to dine with her grandfather, — which oc- 
 curred very often. 
 
 This was the tender and amiable girl who saved the 
 life of old President Angrau. Every time she heard 
 he was going to be taken before the Revolutionary 
 Tribimal, she made him get into bed, and said to the 
 messengers : — 
 
 " What can you do with this old man ? He is not 
 able to rise and is very likely to die during the day." 
 And she repeated this stratagem successfully until 
 the very day of Robespierre's death. Moreover, dur- 
 ing the whole time he was in prison, she brought him 
 every morning a cup of coffee and cream. This good 
 old man, who was then eighty-six, came to see me 
 when I was in the Conciergerie, and, happening to 
 meet the young girl, he kissed her, saying : — 
 
 " Tills is the woman who saved my life ! " 
 
 " And it is she, too," I answered, " who has relieved 
 the weariness of mine." 
 
 I continued to spend my evenings with Richard, and 
 we prolonged our conversation very far into the night. 
 He used to relate a multitude of anecdotes about the 
 victims he had seen on their way to the scaffold. 
 
 It would take too much time to record them here, 
 and I have forgotten most of them. However, I re- 
 member his saying that the gendarmes used to play 
 piquet in presence of the queen every evening. She 
 looked on, either leaning on the back of a chair, or 
 mending her black silk pelisse. 
 
 Richard often visited this princess, and asked her 
 if she needed anything. She never failed to express 
 
THE CRIMINAL TRIBUNAL. 263 
 
 her thanks, only, according to him, she did so with a 
 little too much solemnity. 
 
 One day, she asked him if he had ever been a 
 butler. 
 
 " Oh I not at all, madame," he answered, " I was 
 almost bom in prison." 
 
 " The reason why I ask is because everything you 
 give me to eat is so excellent." 
 
 " Well, madame," returned Richard, " it is because 
 I go to the market myself and endeavor to get the 
 best I can." 
 
 " Oh I " exclaimed the queen, " how kind you are, 
 Monsieur Richard ! " 
 
 Richard added that the preferred meat of the queen 
 was duck. 
 
 His chamber was successively occupied by the Duke 
 of Orleans and Madame Elizabeth. He said to me, 
 pointing to his bed: "Look where vice and virtue 
 have in turn reposed I " 
 
 Before going to the scaffold, the Duke of Orleans 
 asked for a chicken. It was refused, on the ground 
 that he had no money to pay for it. He had to do 
 with an omelet, which he made himself. Then he 
 drank a bottle of champagne, brought to him the 
 evening before, and marched courageously to death. 
 
 The saintly Madame Elizabeth remained twenty- 
 four hours at the Conciergerie. She inquired about 
 the condition of the queen, with the most lively and 
 eager interest, calling her "her sister," and asked 
 Richard how long it was since he saw her. He 
 replied : " She is quite well and wants for nothing." 
 
 She appeared to be very restless during the entire 
 
264 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 night. She would ask Richard every moment what 
 hour it was, for he slept in a dark room divided from 
 the alcove in which she lay. She rose very early ; but 
 Richard was already on his feet. She asked him again 
 what time it was. He made his watch strike the 
 hour, and then showed it to her. " My sister had one 
 very like it," said she, " only it was not wound in 
 that way." She took a little chocolate, and advanced 
 to the entrance of the prison. Many great ladies, 
 who were going to the scaffold along with her, had 
 already assembled at the same spot. Among others, 
 was Madame de Senozan, sister of Malesherbes, the 
 defender of the king, one of the best and most char- 
 itable women that ever lived. Madame Elizabeth 
 begged Richard to be sure to present her compliments 
 to the queen, her sister. Then, one of these ladies, 
 whose name I have forgotten, a duchess something 
 or other, I think, said : " Madame, your sister has 
 already suffered the fate we are now about to suffer 
 ourselves." 
 
 This, with much besides, did Richard relate to me. 
 
A SECOND SUMMONS. 266 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A SECOND SUMMONS FOB THE INTERNCTNCIO. 
 
 Bad Jurors. — In Codbt Aoaix. — Boulanobr Intbrferes ▲ 
 Second Time. — Vigorous Protest of the Internuncio and 
 HIS Counsel. — "These Pboplb wish mt Death at any 
 Price." 
 
 A MONTH and even five weeks slipped by, and 
 then I was again invited to the Palais, to examine 
 the list of my jurors. This time I was led through 
 the hall that was formerly used as a chapel. It is a 
 very large and lofty vaulted apartment, and had been 
 turned into a frightful-looking prison. I saw there 
 seven or eight prisoners, lying on wretched mat- 
 tresses, and evidently in a state of utter destitution. 
 The dampness of the place was such that, although I 
 had only to cross it, I felt chilled to the bone. The 
 sight of these poor creatures filled me with pity and 
 compassion, while, at the same time, it made me 
 reflect on my own more fortunate lot, and I said to 
 myself: "There is where I also should have been, 
 perhaps, but for the goodness of M. Richard." 
 
 After receiving the list of my jurors, I returned 
 hastily, in order to read it and let M. Richard see the 
 names. He read it attentively, and remained for 
 some time silent. At length, he said, — 
 
266 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 " This alarms me ; these jurors are not at all as 
 good as the first." 
 
 " No matter ! " I answered, " I must take them as 
 they are. This uncertainty is killing me. I want to 
 be tried, come what may ! " 
 
 In spite of this unpleasant occurrence, I preserved 
 all my coolness. Those who came to visit me were 
 surprised to see me so calm, and so little disturbed 
 by the fear of death. When they expressed their 
 astonishment, I answered : " It is not because I am 
 ignorant of the danger that threatens me ; but I have 
 resolved to die with honor and courage. It is the 
 cause of the Pope that is at stake, and I shall leave 
 an honored memory behind me." 
 
 On the morning of the second day after, I de- 
 scended through the same dark staircase, and sat 
 again on the same shameful bench, which was re- 
 served for the greatest criminals. 
 
 When everybody was seated and the court declared 
 open, the commissary of the Directory said, — 
 
 " I demand that the case be adjourned for another 
 month." 
 
 No sooner were the words out of his lips than a 
 terrible tumult arose in the hall, and the audience 
 hissed with great heartiness. 
 
 I myself rose, and, without asking the President's 
 permission, I said, — 
 
 " Citizen, what motive can have led the commis- 
 sary of the Directory to demand the adjournment of 
 my trial, when even the public prosecutor, whose 
 personal interest it is to see that crime is punished, 
 judges it proper to be silent ? 
 
A SECOND SUMMONS. 267 
 
 " Is, then, citizen Boulanger, commissary of the 
 Directory, my adversary, my prosecutor? If he is, 
 let him say so openly. But no, his voice is hushed. 
 
 " Is it, then, citizen president, against a phantom 
 that I have to defend myself ? No, no, citizen, this 
 adversary who hides in the darkness is the Directory, 
 is the minister of Police. Let them, therefore, come 
 forth in person, and show me in what I am guilty. 
 Let them attack me openly, me, a feeble reed, aban- 
 doned by the whole world, whose sole defence is in 
 the justice of my cause. 
 
 '* How can I hope to escape such powerful enemies, 
 especially when they have recourse to such desperately 
 perfidious wiles ? 
 
 " But I am mistaken. I stand here in the very 
 sanctuary of justice, and it will cover me with its 
 aegis. I appeal to you, righteous and unprejudiced 
 judges, to you who are as incorruptible as the law 
 itself ; stretch out to me a helping hand. Do not 
 allow me to suffer the pangs of another month's 
 delay. 
 
 " As for myself, I oppose it with all my might. 
 
 " Is it not clear that, in the absence of evidence, 
 in the absence of anything that would lead you to 
 condemn me, my enemies are determined to let me 
 pine away in a prison, to let me perish there of misery 
 and want ? 
 
 " Well ! I call Heaven to witness, I call the estima- 
 ab]e and honest jurors on whose decision my fate 
 depends to witness, that all the evidence that can 
 ever be brought against me is before them to-day. 
 
 " What is the object of my adversaries ? Are they 
 
268 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 expecting a massacre in the prisons, like that of Sep- 
 tember, 1792, so that, less fortunate than at that bale- 
 ful era, I may have the thread of my life cut in some 
 horrible butchery ; a life that, for ten whole years, has 
 been full of sadness and bitterness, a life over which 
 the threats of death are incessantly suspended, a life 
 which has now been for several months agony and 
 torture ? 
 
 " I pray you, then, citizen judges, to order that no 
 adjournment be permitted ; and that, in spite of the 
 demand of the commissary Boulanger, my trial be 
 proceeded with immediately." 
 
 My counsel followed me, and did so with all the 
 eloquence for which he is famed. 
 
 But what avail right and justice against weakness 
 and ambition ? 
 
 I have not the least reason to doubt that these 
 judges were intimidated by the formidable power of 
 my adversaries; for, after a long deliberation, they 
 adjourned the case to the month following. 
 
 I remember that their ruling filled me with indig- 
 nation. I forgot for the moment that I was a pris- 
 oner, and, rushing suddenly from my seat, I escaped 
 by a door and began running toward the apartment 
 which overlooks the gallery where the dealers exhibit 
 their wares. Some one tried to stop me, but in vain. 
 I kept on running, without knowing where I was 
 going, when I heard the voice of Richard behind me. 
 
 " Where are you going ? " he cried. " Do you want 
 to make them believe you wish to escape ? " 
 
 " No," I answered; " " I do not wish to escape, but 
 I do not know where I am going." 
 
A SECOND SUMMONS. 269 
 
 " As we are here," he said, " let us go through the 
 great hall, and we can return to the Conciergerie by 
 the principal gate." 
 
 I took his arm, saying, — 
 
 " Forgive me, M. Richard ; I am quite beside my- 
 self. These people wish my death at any price." 
 
 Thinking to console me, he said, — 
 
 ** Every one pities you ! " 
 
 " Well then I supposing they do," I replied ; " what 
 good does that do me ? I don't see I am any the bet- 
 ter for their pity." 
 
 A soon as I entered the prison, I ran and threw 
 myself on my bed, in that very chamber which I dis- 
 liked so much. 
 
 Shortly after, a turnkey came to inform me that the 
 Abb^ de la Boissifere, one of the friends of my child- 
 hood, desired to see me. 
 
 I answered, with some roughness, that I did not 
 want to meet him. But in a few moments, I repented 
 my churiishness, and asked that he should be shown in. 
 It was too late. He had gone, and I have never seen 
 him since, for he went to live in his native province. 
 
 I got up and went to dinner, but I ate very little. 
 Then came a, great number of visitors, who only dis- 
 turbed me. In short, without knowing why, I be- 
 sired to be alone. 
 
270 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 A COUP d'etat. 
 
 Very Bad Jurors. — Richard's Plan. — The Effects of the 
 Malaga on M. Marchand. — The Internuncio improvises a 
 Defence for Madajie Colin. — The Melancholy Presenti- 
 ments OF M. Bellart. 
 
 The end of the month arrived without the occur- 
 rence of any event of importance, and I went to the 
 clerk's office for the third time to get my list of jurors. 
 When I communicated their names to Richard, he 
 said, — 
 
 " Such a list must have been made out with the 
 design of ruining you. These men are still worse 
 than the preceding ones, and a majority of ten is 
 required to bring in a verdict in your favor. You 
 ought to refuse them." 
 
 "I do not wish to do so, and indeed I cannot. 
 Why, there would be an adjournment for another 
 month!" 
 
 The attachment Richard had conceived for me 
 since we lived together was of the strongest charac- 
 ter. He reflected for a moment, and then said, — 
 
 "I know the usher whose duty it is to summon 
 jurors. I will ask him how we ought to act, and 
 whether it is possible to get other jurors." 
 
 " Oh, do so, I entreat you," I replied, " and do it 
 
A COUP D'l^TAT. 271 
 
 as quickly as you can ; for you know how an unf oi> 
 tunate man feels when he has received the slightest 
 ground for hope : he thinks that all is gained. You 
 must," I added, " invite him to dinner, and see that 
 it is good; take care of the wine especially. And 
 then you can hint to him that I shall reward him 
 generously." 
 
 Richard said that he would attend to everything, 
 and he gave orders to the cook about the fowl and 
 game. This good woman also told me to have con- 
 fidence. "The usher," she added, "is a person of 
 great influence." 
 
 I had to appear again in court in two days. I 
 waited impatiently for four o'clock. At this hour 
 Richard returned and said, "M. Marchand is com- 
 ing." Marchand was the name of the usher. In 
 fact, he arrived a little after. I rather liked the 
 expression of his face, and he seemed to be a grave 
 and intelligent man. 
 
 We went to dinner ; there were only us three, and 
 Richard gave directions that no one else was to be 
 admitted. The dinner was excellent, and not a 
 word was spoken of my affair until we reached the 
 dessert. Then a bottle of Malaga was set on the 
 table, and Richard broke silence. 
 
 "The day after to-morrow," he said, "will be a 
 very important day for M. I'Abb^, for it is the day 
 of his trial. Now, I am not at all satisfied with his 
 jurors. These men" — he pointed to their names — 
 " are detestable ; and this fellow here is a notorious 
 Jacobin." 
 
 " Well," replied Marchand, " why not reject them ?" 
 
272 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 " Impossible ! " I exclaimed ; " not for the world I 
 That would be another month's delay." 
 
 Upon this, Richard poured him out a half-tumbler 
 of Malaga, just as he might have done if it were vin 
 ordinaire. The usher paused awhile after drinking, 
 and said, — 
 
 "Let us consider the matter. I wish to be of 
 some service to you, and I think I can. Hand me 
 over the list." 
 
 Richard did so, and Marchand murmured, as he 
 read : " Faith, it is no joke having to deal with those 
 people! They never miss a chance of sending any 
 one who comes before them to the scaffold ! " 
 
 When he had finished, he took a pencil from his 
 pocket, saying, — 
 
 " You had better cross out the names of those you 
 do not want." 
 
 " Let M. Richard do it," I answered ; " he is kind 
 enough to act for me ; I don't know any of them." 
 
 After we had drawn a stroke across the names of 
 the obnoxious ones, " Now," said he, " whom do you 
 want?" 
 
 I was as much embarrassed as ever ; but Richard 
 came to my help a second time, and after a great 
 deal of hesitation we finally made up a list which 
 offered us some guaranty of honesty and impartial- 
 ity. I remember that among the names inscribed 
 were those of G^ndral de Tolosan; M. Charet, a 
 goldsmith ; Cadet, a private gentleman ; Charpentier, 
 a notary; Leblanc de Varennes, a lawyer; and Le- 
 couteux-Lenormand. 
 
 When aU was over, this excellent usher said : " I 
 
A COUP D'ETAT. 278 
 
 am about to attempt a bold stroke that will cost me 
 my place if it be discovered. But I would do any- 
 thing to save an honest man like you. I am going 
 to summon these jurors just as if their names had 
 been drawn by lot. I have some hopes that no one 
 will detect the substitution; the president is not 
 likely to remember the features of every juror that 
 comes before him." 
 
 I could hardly find words to express my gratitude, 
 and when we had taken our coffee and liqueur^ he 
 left, carrying with him the list we had agreed on. 
 
 I wrote at once to Madame Blanchet, enclosing a 
 copy of the list, and directing her to show it to our 
 friends, so that, on the eve of the trial, they might 
 visit the jurors and try to influence them in my 
 favor. 
 
 I learned subsequently that Madame Colin, Ma- 
 dame Grabourtra, and my poor Blanchet fairly wore 
 themselves out with calling on every one they fan- 
 cied might serve me. 
 
 I was also vigorously supported by Vigier, ex-at- 
 torney to the Parliament, and now proprietor of the 
 baths of the Seine. He visited Gohier, the president 
 of the tribunal. 
 
 " I am very sorry," answered the latter, " that there 
 is no intermediary penalty. The only prospect for 
 him is death or acquittal, and that is what embar- 
 rasses me." 
 
 It was as much as if he had said, " We know he is 
 innocent, but we must inflict some punishment on him 
 to please the Directory! " 
 
 At last the decisive hour was about to strike. It 
 18 
 
274 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 was now the 3d of March, and the court was to open 
 at eight in the morning. 
 
 I was dressed at seven, and had myself shaved and 
 my peruke powdered, as usual. 
 
 I waited in the kitchen, seated before the fire, and 
 chatted with Richard's servant. Just when she was 
 remarking, " M. Richard is greatly troubled about 
 you," Madame Colin entered. She said to me, — 
 
 " I am dreadfully sorry I cannot be present at your 
 trial. Unfortunately, I have a case of my own on 
 hand, — an important one, too, for it affects the for- 
 tunes of my children, who are minors. In fact, a vio- 
 lent cabal has been formed against me, and it has 
 succeeded in getting the affair laid over several times. 
 Even my lawyer shows an indifference that I cannot 
 account for, and hardly ever speaks. I am afraid I 
 am going to lose ; and yet it is no small trifle, — eighty 
 thousand francs. The notary Raguideau, who pur- 
 chased my poor husband's business, is my opponent, 
 and he is so influential that it is hard getting the 
 better of him." 
 
 " Listen," I said : " Suppose the judges allow you 
 to speak in court, — do you think you have the 
 courage to do so?" 
 
 " I do," she answered without hesitation. 
 
 " Well, give me paper, pen, and ink ; I have three 
 quarters of an hour before me, and I think I can 
 manage." 
 
 Then I made her go over the whole case, and, 
 aided by her suggestions, I wrote out a defence cover- 
 ing eight pages of paper. I think I may say that the 
 peroration was as moving and pathetic as any one 
 could desire, for I felt inspired by the occasion. 
 
A COUP D*tTAT, 275 
 
 And, in fact, what could be more affecting than 
 the situation of a mother, still young and beautiful, 
 who implores the protection of her judges, and who, 
 helpless and unaided, has to meet the assaults of a 
 powerful and treacherous adversary? 
 
 Tliis charming woman could not control her aston- 
 ishment at my coolness and self-possession in calmly 
 writing out a plea for herself at tlie very moment 
 when I had to defend my own life. 
 
 ** You astound me ! " she cried ; " and I am quite 
 ashamed to see you working for me at a time when 
 you stand in such a critical position yourself. Your 
 courage and serenity amaze me I " 
 
 "It is the happiness I feel in having it in my 
 power, madame, to render you a slight service," I 
 answered, "and thus evince my deep sense of your 
 gracious kindness, that has enabled me to control all 
 other feelings. As for myself, I have made my sacri- 
 fice, and, henceforth, all my thoughts will be devoted 
 to the task of rendering myseK fit to fall into the 
 arms of my Maker." 
 
 I handed to her what I had written, and passed into 
 the parlor; for I feared that, if the conversation were 
 prolonged, I might be too much affected. 
 
 Madame Colin left to attend to her case. 
 
 She was allowed to speak ; she wept, she read her 
 defence with such pathetic emotion that all who 
 listened to her were touched. The judges ordered 
 her adversary to answer immediately; in short, she 
 won her suit. 
 
 How great is the power an interesting woman has 
 over the heart of man I 
 
276 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 My counsel, M. Bellart, entered a moment after. 
 He looked very pale and distressed. 
 
 " What is the matter, M. Bellart ? " I asked. " Your 
 face does not look as if you had good news to announce. 
 And yet I have been depending on you to give me 
 courage I " 
 
 "Alas," he answered, "what can I tell you, ex- 
 cept that from feeble and prejudiced judges every- 
 thing is to be feared ! " 
 
 At this moment I received a summons from Richard 
 to be ready to appear in court. 
 
 I followed him, attended by my counsel and pre- 
 ceded by an usher and two gendarmes. With this 
 lugubrious procession I marched along in solemn 
 silence, like a victim going to his doom ; and, de- 
 scending that subterranean staircase whose aspect 
 chilled my blood with horror, I arrived at the thresh- 
 old of the court. 
 
 It was so crowded that I had much difficulty in 
 reaching my bench of ignominy. As only one of the 
 two gendarmes could succeed in making his way 
 through at my side, some one cried : " There is 
 only one gendarme ! There ought to be two ! " 
 At which, several voices were heard from all parts 
 of the court, shouting, — 
 
 " No, no ; one is too many ! " 
 
 Quite a number of clerks belonging to the sup- 
 pressed Chamber were present, including those who 
 were members of the society called " la Bazoche." 
 
 When I was in the Parliament I always took a very- 
 kindly interest in these gentlemen, and they felt a 
 very warm affection for me in return. 
 
A COUP D'ETAT. 277 
 
 So true it is that, after all, we generally reap the 
 fruits of our good deeds to others. 
 
 I perceived also, on casting my eyes around, all 
 those whom I had noticed in court before, as well as 
 many I had not seen previously. 
 
 The juroi-s, too, were all at their post, and evidently 
 no one suspected the stratagem of my usher. 
 
 But after a time I remarked that one of them was 
 absent, a man I knew well, — M. le Couteau. His 
 place, however, was soon filled by another juror. 
 
 I have since learned that M. le Couteau de la 
 Norai, who was under the greatest obligations to me, 
 obstinately refused Blanchet's request that he should 
 be present in court, declaring that he did not want to 
 render himself an object of suspicion to the govern- 
 ment. In vain did one of his sisters represent that 
 it was solely through me he had won several law- 
 suits ; he could not be shaken in his resolution, and 
 thus gave proof of the blackest ingratitude in my 
 regard. 
 
 But I do not care to say any more, for he is dead. 
 It is for God, not for me, to punish him. 
 
278 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AT LAST. 
 
 BoULANaSB again! — VIGOROUS REPLIES OF THE PkISONBR AND 
 
 HIS Counsel. — The Examination. 
 
 As soon as the judges were seated, the indictment 
 was read. It was conceived in much more moderate 
 terms than the previous one, — possibly because Legras 
 had had notliing to do with drawing it. It charged 
 me simply with the crime of corresponding with the 
 Pope, not with that of being the leader of a con- 
 spiracy. 
 
 Hardly was the reading of it finished, when the 
 commissary Boulanger arose and demanded another 
 adjournment for a week. 
 
 The indignation of the audience was intense, and 
 found expression in a low, deep murmur. 
 
 At the same time one of the jurors, M. Leblanc de 
 Varennes, rising from his seat, asked whether it was 
 with the intention of exposing them to derision that 
 they were so often called to that court, apparently for 
 no object whatever. 
 
 As for myself, I was struck dumb with amazement ; 
 I could not open my lips. 
 
 But M. Bellart spoke with indignant eloquence 
 against any adjournment. The judges, compelled to 
 deliberate under the very eyes of the public, did not 
 dare to accede to the commissary's demand. 
 
AT LAST. 279 
 
 They decided that they must refuse the request of 
 Citizen Boulanger, and that I should be tried during 
 the present sitting. 
 
 This decision was received by the audience with 
 the greatest enthusiasm. 
 
 But no sooner was silence restored than this same 
 commissary of the Directoiy rose again and demanded 
 that I should be handed over for trial to a military 
 commission I He stated that my case should be dealt 
 with by some such body rather than by the present 
 tribunal, for the crime with which I was really charged 
 was not that of conspiracy, neither was it that of cor- 
 responding with the Pope, — it was simply that of 
 being a spy. 
 
 This unexpected requisition at first created a sort 
 of stupefaction throughout the hall ; but no sooner did 
 the audience recover from their surprise than such a 
 violent outcry arose against the commissary that the 
 president could not obtain silence. " They want to 
 assassinate him ! ** cried some ; others shouted : " They 
 shall not send him before a military commission." 
 
 But I made a gesture with my hand to signify I 
 had something to say. In a moment every voice 
 was hushed, and then I spoke as follows : — 
 
 " Yes, citizen president, I am a spy ; but a civil 
 spy, the minister of a foreign power, and recognized 
 as such for more than ten years. I am here under 
 the safeguard of the laws, and only a short time ago, 
 although not invested with any official character, I 
 treated with the ministers of the Directory them- 
 selves. 
 
 " Why, you have spies of that class in every court 
 
280 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON". 
 
 in Europe! Well, then! are they put in prison? 
 Are they prosecuted as criminals ? Does any one ever 
 think of handing them over to the mercies of a mili- 
 tary commission ? No ; that law which you invoke 
 against me, that law which, you say, permits you to 
 deliver me to a military commission, — that law con- 
 cerns only spies taken with arms in their hands in the 
 midst of camps, while I am a peaceful citizen, a citi- 
 zen whom you have arrested in his own house, with- 
 out reason or motive. 
 
 "• However, I am not sufficiently versed in your 
 new laws to defend myself to the best advantage, and 
 my counsel will do so with the eloquence for which he 
 is distinguished." 
 
 Thereupon M. Bellart addressed the commissary : 
 " Oblige me," he said, " by showing me the text of 
 the law of which you speak ; I am not acquainted 
 with it, but I promise you I '11 discuss every article 
 of it." 
 
 He did so, in fact, in the most luminous manner, 
 and ended his discourse with a moving peroration, 
 the concluding words of which were, — 
 
 "Remember, citizen judges, that, if you have not 
 had the good fortune to be elected by the people, you 
 have now an opportunity at least of showing your- 
 selves worthy of such an honor." 
 
 The reason why he made this allusion was that my 
 judges had been appointed by the Directory, in open 
 violation of the constitution, and we were on the eve 
 of the primary assembly, when new elections would 
 take place.^ Consequently, not only did the words 
 
 1 In April, 1797. 
 
AT LAST. 281 
 
 of M. Bellart call forth applause in the body of the 
 court, but they made a profound impression on the 
 judges themselves, and, perhaps, excited a little 
 apprehension among them also. 
 
 Feeling the necessity, therefore, of taking the 
 matter at once under consideration, and being undoubt^ 
 edly intimidated by public opinion, they decided, 
 after a deliberation lasting an hour and a quarter, 
 that they were competent, and that the case should 
 be tried immediately. 
 
 This decision aroused such enthusiasm that the 
 president was beside himself. He was terribly agi- 
 tated, and cried with all his might that the law 
 expressly forbade all expressions of approbation or 
 disapprobation. 
 
 At length calm was restored. The indictment was 
 read a second time, and, as the prosecution had no 
 witnesses, the municipal officials of Passy offered to 
 testify to my conduct and morality. The court, how- 
 ever, declared this was not necessary. 
 
 Then the president, taking my letter in his hand, 
 said, — 
 
 " Prisoner, the main foundation on which the 
 charge against you rests is this letter." 
 
 " And has there ever been a time," I answered 
 immediately, " when justice admitted such a proof as 
 that, — especially when no other proof was in exist- 
 ence? Moreover, you have procured possession of 
 that document by violating all existing laws, by vio- 
 lating the law of nations, by wresting it from a 
 courier on the highway. How, then, can it be 
 brought in evidence against me ? It is I who ought 
 to be the prosecutor here. 
 
282 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 " I beg to call your attention to the famous ordi- 
 nance of the Parliament of Paris dealing with the case 
 of a woman who was accused of the greatest crimes, 
 but against whom the evidence was defective. A 
 letter was found in her room containing a confession 
 of every crime wherewith she was charged. The 
 attorney-general having used this document as an 
 irresistible proof at her trial, the Parliament of Paris 
 declared it inadmissible, on the ground that accused 
 persons cannot be their own accusers. 
 
 " You see here an instance of the scrupulous caution 
 with which judges act when a human life is at stake." 
 
 My counsel also used every effort to prevent the 
 admission of the letter as evidence against me. 
 
 This point raised a long debate among the judges, 
 and I almost began to repent that I had touched on 
 the subject at all, for they were very near referring 
 the decision of the matter to the Corps Legislatif, 
 in which case I could not tell when it would end. 
 
 Accordingly I said to the president, that, in order 
 to avoid all difficulties, I consented to the production 
 of my letter. 
 
 Then there ensued a sort of dialogue between me 
 and the president. He put a number of questions to 
 me, and I answered them with more or less warmth, 
 in proportion to the degree to which they aroused my 
 indignation. 
 
 I give here, as far as I recollect them, the most 
 salient points of this examination. 
 
 " Why have you corresponded with the enemies of 
 the state?" 
 
 " I have not corresponded with the enemies of the 
 
AT LAST. 288 
 
 state. If you mean that the Pope is one of the enemies 
 of the state, I can only say that the Pope is not an enemy 
 of France. As the supreme chief of religion, France 
 has a place in his heart, as have all other Catholic na- 
 tions ; it is true, however, that he is the enemy of your 
 government. That does not prevent me from corre- 
 sponding with him and with his ministers. I was born 
 his subject and I am a priest. By this twofold title 
 I have the right to correspond with the Sovereign 
 Pontiff. 
 
 "Remark further, that, in order to recognize one 
 power as the enemy of another, a sign is necessary. 
 Now, has war been actually declared against the Pope ? 
 The law expressly says that such a war can only be 
 decreed by the Corps Ldgislatif . Where is this decree ? 
 It is you who have attacked the Pope, and that, too, 
 without giving him any warning. It is you who have 
 invaded his states. As for him, he has not offered you 
 the slightest resistance." 
 
 "What is the meaning of the ciphers you have 
 employed ? " 
 
 " I do not remember. The key was in my apartment, 
 but I have lost it through the fault of the police agents, 
 who turned everything upside down in my house." 
 
 " Prisoner, you would seem to say in this letter that 
 the French desire a chief; of course you mean a 
 king. Who told you so ? " 
 
 " As I was not sending any journals to the Pope at 
 the time, I merely stated what I read in them. More- 
 over," I added Tvarmly, " I am not the only person 
 who says this ; everybody says so." 
 
 I may as well remark, by the way, that all this took 
 
284 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOK 
 
 place before the 18th Fructidor, when freedom of 
 speech was still allowed. 
 
 The president resumed : — 
 
 "You are the enemy of the Republic; you have 
 refused to take the oaths." 
 
 " I am not an enemy of the Republic ; but I have 
 not yet reached the degree of heroism commanded by 
 the Gospel : I do not love my enemies with my whole 
 heart. All I can do is not to wish them evil. Now, 
 I have never excited any one against the Republic, for 
 I disdain revenge. For that matter, finish the read- 
 ing of my letter ; and, since you read what is against 
 me, read also what is in my favor. You will see I 
 advise the Pope to make peace with General Bona- 
 parte, and not to trust to the promises of the Neapo- 
 litan leader, or to those of the King of Naples himself, 
 because they would betray him. 
 
 " As to the reproach you address to me, — for not 
 having taken the oaths, — I might answer that that is 
 a matter which concerns my own conscience alone. 
 But I do not wish that the numerous and respectable 
 audience in whose presence I stand should have any 
 doubts as to my political and religious opinions. 
 
 " I answer then that, as I was not a public func- 
 tionary, I was under no obligation to take the oath to 
 the Civil Constitution of the clergy. I will even add 
 that, had I been a public functionary, I should still 
 have refused it, in obedience to the dictates of my 
 conscience. For that constitution destroys the rights 
 and power of the Pope, as well as the rights of the 
 French episcopate, and overturns the ecclesiastical 
 hierarchy. Finally, the Pope forbade the oath to 
 be taken. 
 
AT LAST. 286 
 
 '* As to the oath of Liberty and Equality, I never 
 could see that I needed to take it. At all times 
 French citizens have been equal before the law. The 
 brothers of the king, and even the king himself, 
 could be sued in a court of law, and everybody en- 
 joyed personal liberty. But if you call the liberty 
 which is only another name for license and the parent 
 of anarchy liberty, then I spurn it, m common with 
 all good Frenchmen. 
 
 " As to the oath of hatred to royalty, I proclaim in 
 the face of the whole world that my fidelity to the 
 royal cause would prevent me from taking it. And, 
 besides, a Christian ought to hate only one thing, — 
 sin. 
 
 " But if you charge me with want of fidelity to the 
 laws of the Republic, I answer that I obey these laws 
 faithfully, and you cannot ask me to do more." 
 
 Every one of my answers was applauded to the skies. 
 
 " Prisoner," said the president, " how can you be 
 an enemy of your country, — you, an ex-clerical coun- 
 cillor of the Parliament of Paris ; you who live here 
 under the protection of the laws ? " 
 
 " Citizen president, I am not an enemy of my coun- 
 try, and I do not live under the protection of the 
 laws. 
 
 " Tom from my home without the shadow of a rea- 
 son, I was hurried into the midst of the massacres of 
 the 2d and 3d of September, 1792, and I escaped only 
 by a miracle, after seeing sixty of my unfortunate 
 companions slaughtered before my eyes. 
 
 "Threatened with arrest a second time, I had to 
 wander for nine whole months without shelter, with- 
 
286 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMOX. 
 
 out succor, without a place where I could lay my 
 head, a prey to the deepest misery, living like a wild 
 beast in the woods that surround the capital ; and 
 at the same time, although I had not committed any 
 crime, I was condemned to death in my absence. 
 
 " To-day I am arraigned as a criminal before you, 
 thanks to the violation of every law. And yet you 
 tell me that I am living under the protection of the 
 laws ! No, M. le President, no ! " 
 
 I was asked a number of other questions, which 
 it would take too long to relate, but I answered them 
 all with firmness and courage. 
 
 Then came the turn of my counsel. 
 
 His speech was a splendid effort.^ He dwelt 
 at length upon my answers, and spoke exhaustively 
 on those passages of my letter which were to my 
 advantage. 
 
 You can imagine what a struggle I had to make 
 to defend myself as I had done. I felt completely 
 broken up at the end. 
 
 Moreover, I had taken nothing, since seven in the 
 morning, but a cup of chocolate, and it was now 
 eleven in the evening. 
 
 Fortunately, the president adjourned until nine 
 o'clock the next morning. 
 
 1 It is referred to by Billecoq in his " Notice sur Bellart." See 
 "GEuvres choisies de Bellart," Paris, 1827. 
 
THE ACQUITTAL. 287 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE ACQUITTAL. 
 
 Labt Hours at thb Concieroerie. — M. Bellart has Pleasant 
 Anticipations — The Abb6 Champagne. — The Verdict. — 
 Free! — The Conclusion. — The Internuncio is named Ad- 
 ministrator OF THE DiOCBSBB OF NORMANDT BT PlUS VU. 
 
 Seeing how very tired I was, my good Richard 
 took me by the hand, and, instead of conducting me 
 back to the Conciergerie by the dark staircase, he led 
 me round the square of the Palais, forcing a passage 
 for me tlu-ough the dense throngs that filled it. 
 
 Some persons I did not know remarked me on the 
 way, and said, — 
 
 "Be of good courage, monsieur! We have all 
 pitied you, and everybody is in your favor." 
 
 " I am recognized," said I to Richard ; " let us get 
 along quickly." 
 
 We entered by the great gate. 
 
 An excellent supper was already on the table, 
 awaiting my arrival. I noticed that the fish was 
 particularly fine. Richard and I partook of it with 
 relish. 
 
 This worthy man, who deserved to occupy a higher 
 position, wept with joy. He said to me, — 
 
 "You have spoken like an angel I During the 
 whole thirty years I have been in the prison, I have 
 
288 MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 never seen any one make such a defence as you did ! 
 They will never dare to condemn you ! " 
 
 " I hope so," I answered ; " but I wish the trial was 
 over, whatever the result." 
 
 " You are right," returned Richard. " Still, what 
 you said will make an impression on the jurors during 
 the night, and, above all, their wives, to whom they 
 will relate all that has occurred, are sure to be on 
 your side." 
 
 My counsel came early in the morning. His first 
 words to me were, — 
 
 " Be of good courage ! " 
 
 " Ah ! " I answered, " you never thought of say- 
 ing that to me yesterday, when I had far more need 
 of it!" 
 
 "Yesterday I was almost certain you were lost. 
 One of the judges assured me in the most unequivocal 
 terms that you were to go before a military commis- 
 sion, and that was why you saw me so downcast. I 
 thought that all our methods of defence would be 
 useless. They have not dared to do this, owing to 
 the feeling displayed by the audience in your behalf. 
 You are indebted for your safety to the good will of 
 the people! 
 
 " Permit me to add also that you spoke with much 
 eloquence, and said just what you ought to say." 
 
 We left for court at nine o'clock precisely. Richard 
 was very busy at the Palais, trying to find out what 
 was said about me. 
 
 He returned to the prison just before the judges 
 had taken their seats, looking very happy, and whis- 
 pered in the ear of his servant, — 
 
THE ACQUITTAL. 289 
 
 " He is safe ; I saw the questions I '* ^ 
 
 M. Bellart and I had planned together the course 
 we intended to adopt, and it was a very bold one. 
 
 Basing our action on the laws which proclaim the 
 sanctity of private correspondence, we demanded that 
 the functionaries who had violated those laws should 
 undergo the penalties prescribed by the legislature. 
 Consequently, we asked that, according to the terms 
 of such and such an article, — which we cited, — 
 the minister of police should be condemned to two 
 years' imprisonment, and on his release be compelled 
 to pay over to me, for the benefit of the poor, such 
 damages as the court in its wisdom might decree. 
 
 On the other hand, the public prosecutor denounced 
 me in a most violent harangue, and concluded by 
 insisting that I should be condemned to capital 
 punishment. 
 
 Then the president put the usual questions to the 
 jurors. They were couched in the following terms : 
 
 "Has there been a correspondence with the ene- 
 mies of the state? 
 
 " Is the prisoner guilty of this crime ? 
 
 "Has he acted with evil intention?" 
 
 The jurors deliberated for a long time. Many had 
 been prejudiced by the use the commissary of the 
 Directory had made of the word spy. 
 
 Luckily, as I have already mentioned, a letter to 
 me from Cardinal Busca had been seized at the post- 
 office. It was written in Italian. 
 
 1 No doubt the questions the president put to the jurors. It is 
 very hard, however, to understand how Richard could augur the inter- 
 nuncio's safety from reading them. 
 
 19 
 
MEMOIRS OF Mgr. SALAMON. 
 
 Among the jurors was the Abb^ Champagne, a 
 married deacon and bursar of the College de Navarre, 
 who was thoroughly acquainted with this language. 
 He translated the letter for the other jurors, and said : 
 " The prisoner is charged with being a spy ; but no, 
 he is not a spy, not at all. He is the friend of the 
 Pope. The Pope writes to him by his minister that 
 he loves him and continues to hold him in the greatest 
 esteem and affection. A sovereign prince never ex- 
 presses himself in such terms with regard to a spy. 
 To end the matter," he added, "I regard the pris- 
 oner simply as an envoy of the Pope, and I am in 
 favor of his acquittal." 
 
 G^n^ral de Tolosan was equally zealous in my 
 favor, and after two hours' deliberation the jury re- 
 turned into court with their verdict. To the first 
 two questions the answers were in the affirmative; 
 to the last, in the negative. 
 
 The president was therefore compelled to discharge 
 me. 
 
 The verdict was received with enthusiastic applause. 
 
 But I had to drink my chalice to the dregs. In- 
 stead of being set at liberty at once, as is usual even 
 in the case of criminals, I was forced to remain an- 
 other twenty-four hours in prison. 
 
 My counsel came toward the middle of the next 
 day and asked Richard whether the public prose- 
 cutor had sent him an order for my release at the 
 expiration of twenty-four hours. As Richard an- 
 swered in the negative, M. Bellart warned him 
 that, in that case, the law authorized my counsel to 
 restore me to liberty himself at the end of twenty- 
 four hours, and he begged him to let him do so. 
 
THE ACQUITTAL. 291 
 
 It can be readily imagined that my good Richard 
 was not the man to stand in the way of my release, 
 and he opened the door immediately. 
 
 And now, madame, I have reached the conclusion 
 of my lamentable history. Doubtless many things 
 have escaped me, for it is a long time since all this 
 happened. 
 
 My life since then has been tranquil and unevent- 
 ful, spent in the discharge of the spiritual mission 
 with which I have been invested. 
 
 In 1801 I was sent to Normandy in order to admin- 
 ister the entire province, and there I had to govern 
 five of the most important dioceses of France, notably, 
 that of Rouen, which is the seat of an archbishopric. 
 
 I took up my residence in this city ; but during the 
 winter I travelled through all these dioceses, naming 
 vicar-generals to act in my name. 
 
 This province was very much divided regarding 
 the oath of fidelity and submission to the laws of the 
 Republic. I succeeded in my efforts for peace and 
 conciliation, notwithstanding the obstacles thrown in 
 my path by the intruding priests. 
 
 The Cardinal Legate was so well satisfied with the 
 success of my mission that he wrote me several let- 
 ters, by order of the Pope, assuring me of the pleasure 
 my administration had given his Holiness, and that 
 I more than realized his fondest hopes. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 The Abbe de ScUamon to Cardinal Zelada. 
 
 Paris, the 12th of June, 1786. 
 
 . . . Nor have I shown less zeal, monseigneur, in 
 the unhappy affair of Prince Louis de Rohan. How 
 often have I hastened to visit such of my colleagues as 
 were most opposed to him, in order to convince them as 
 to what their religion required of them, and to show them 
 that, both for the edification of the weak and the silenc- 
 ing of the murmurs of the misguided, they should have 
 the greatest respect, not for the person of the accused, 
 but for the eminent character with which he was in- 
 vested, he being a priest, a bishop, and decorated with the 
 Roman purple ! 
 
 I insinuated that we had not to judge the previous 
 conduct of Prince Louis, nor his want of respect for the 
 royal majesty, but simply the crime of swindling, with 
 which he had nothing to do. 
 
 It is very time that, by his own confession, he knew 
 of the fraud after its commission, and that, nevertheless, 
 he had kept the jewellers Boehmer and Bassange in their 
 error, and delivered to them a receipt in the name of her 
 Majesty the Queen for 30,000 francs. But, with the aid 
 of M. le President, who has the highest esteem for your 
 Eminence, we have dispelled this little cloud, to which the 
 
294 APPENDIX. 
 
 attorney-general of the king attached so much import- 
 ance. The court, full of respect for religion and for the 
 Roman purple, treated Prince Louis with all possible 
 courtesy. When he appeared before the assembled Cham- 
 bers to undergo an examination, he was requested to take 
 a seat, and when the examination was over and he was 
 retiring, the court rose to do him honor. — (Vatican 
 Archives : Nunciature and Affairs of Avignon.) 
 
 TI. 
 
 From the Same to the Same. 
 
 Palais du Louvre, 1 5th of March, 1787. 
 
 . . . Your Eminence will be surprised to learn that, at 
 the very moment an attempt is made to diminish the 
 privileges of the clergy, an archbishop of Toulouse ^ has 
 been made minister and placed at the head of the finances. 
 The happiest consequences are predicted from this choice. 
 
 III. 
 
 To the Same, 
 
 Paris, the 5th of August, 1788. 
 
 . . . You have no doubt heard of the frightful excite- 
 ment created by the attempt to overturn the French 
 constitution in most of the provinces, and especially in 
 Bretagne. Twelve gentlemen from the latter province were 
 sent as deputies to demand from the king the restoration 
 of their privileges. They were seized during the night 
 and immured in the horrible dungeons of the Bastile. 
 Twenty-two other deputies arrived soon after the news of 
 this act of violence, and demanded an audience of the 
 king. The Bishop of D61, who was exiled for the affair 
 of the edict in favor of the non-Catholics, pronounced a 
 
 1 Lom^nie de Brienne. 
 
APPENDIX. 296 
 
 vehement discourse, which I have the honor to send you, 
 together with the Memoir he read before his Majesty, at 
 tlie head of the deputies. I also enclose the reply of his 
 Majesty. It was not satisfactory, and six deputies are 
 to arrive from each of the dioceses, making in all fifty-two. 
 
 The Parliament of Bretagne, although embraced in the 
 lettre de cachet, which it does not recognize, met at Vannes 
 on the 24th. It deputed twelve of its members to go to 
 Versailles, but they were compelled to return, when within 
 eight leagues of this city. 
 
 The province of Dauphin^ also assembled, on the 21st 
 of last month, to the number of seven hundred. There 
 is general consternation, trade is as dull as it can be, and 
 justice does not exist We must be a cause of wonder to 
 other nations. 
 
 The ministers are always promising the States-General, 
 but they do not want it, and are careful not to fix a date 
 for its meeting. 
 
 Your Eminence must have been astonished at the lan- 
 guage of the Archbishop of Narbonne,^ when, at the head 
 of his clergy, he took leave of the king. This prelate 
 did not blush to thank the king for the edict in favor of 
 the non-Catholics ! Everybody is indignant at such con- 
 duct. But the clergy have no nerve, and they have re- 
 fused to protest against this discourse. 
 
 I have pressed several bishops to do so, but all in vain. 
 ... A decree of the Council of State is announced for 
 to-morrow, granting to Dauphine the restoration of its 
 states, and fixing the date for the convocation of the 
 States-General. It is the only way of recovering tran- 
 quillity and filling the coffers of the king, which are 
 empty. . . . 
 
 The Abb^ de Salamon, 
 
 Councillor of the Parliament, 
 (From the Vatican Archives : Nunciature of France.) 
 1 Mgr. DiUon. 
 
296 APPENDIX. 
 
 IV. 
 
 To the Same. 
 
 Paris, the 12th of August, 1788. 
 
 MoNSEiGNEUR, — The clergy of France have at length 
 separated. The assembly was divided, and this prevented 
 it from effecting any good. Your Eminence must have 
 been surprised when you saw the discourse of the Arch- 
 bishop of Narbonne, the president. His boldness in 
 thanking the king for the edict in favor of the non- 
 Catholics should have been rebuked by the clergy. But 
 no ! — there was not a single protest against the edict. I 
 send your Eminence a little pamphlet; it will prove to 
 you how little zeal these prelates have for the glory of 
 their order, which, even before the monarchy existed, was 
 the first order in the state, and was loaded with privileges. 
 
 Well! such will not be the case any longer. They 
 wish to be on an equality with the noblesse in the provin- 
 cial assemblies, they will preside alternately ; and, what 
 is worse, at the very moment when the Parliament is 
 opposing with all its strength the verifications of the prop- 
 erties of the king's subjects, as contrary to their liberties 
 and the source of all kinds of vexations, the clergy, on 
 the demand of the archbishops of Rheiras and Bour- 
 deaux, have decided to submit to these verifications ! It 
 makes one sick to think of it. 
 
 At last, the demand of the Parliament has been effec- 
 tive : the States-G-eneral will assemble on the 1st of May, 
 1789. We all believe that peace will then be restored 
 throughout the kingdom. 
 
 Fifty-two fresh deputies arrived here yesterday to ask 
 for the release of the twelve gentlemen imprisoned in the 
 Bastile. They are not to leave until their petition is 
 granted. It is uncertain whether they will be received by 
 the king. 
 
APPENDIX. 297 
 
 The whole country is in consternation. A mere word 
 is sufficient to procure your arrest and imprisonment in 
 the Bastile, which is crowded with captives. And who 
 does all this ? An archbishop,* who is creating a panic 
 among twenty-four millions of human beings. It is hoped 
 that the king, who has good intentions, may see that he 
 is deceived, and may dismiss from his councils those who 
 tarnish the glory of his reign and injure the tranquillity of 
 the state. . . . 
 
 P. S. — Your Eminence knows my handwriting, and 
 there is no need of my signature. I act as I do, fearing 
 my letters may be opened at the post-office. 
 
 (Vatican Archives.) 
 
 To the Nuncio.^ 
 
 Monday, the 2:th of April, 1789. 
 
 M. the Abb^ de Salamon has the honor to present his 
 respectful compliments to his Excellency the Nuncio, and 
 to inform him that the unimportant riot which occurred 
 at about four o'clock had its origin in a private affair. 
 
 The Sieur Reveillon, a wholesale paper manufacturer, 
 had the imprudence to say in an assembly of his district, 
 ** that the workmen could easily live on twenty sols a day, 
 and even on fifteen." These words created some excite- 
 ment at the time ; but to-day the workmen became furious 
 against this Reveillon, and searched his house for him. 
 Fortunately, he escaped to the Chatelet. A mob gathered 
 around it, and insisted on having him out and hanging 
 him. Not succeeding, they went to the yard of the Palais, 
 erected a gallows, and hanged him in effigy. Then they 
 dispersed. 
 
 1 Lomenie de Brienne. 
 
 2 The nuncio at Paris at this time was Dugnani. 
 
298 APPENDIX. 
 
 Nevertheless, as I was leaving the apartment of M. le 
 President, a messenger arrived with the news that the 
 mob was running in the direction of Reveillon's house, 
 with the intention of plundering or even burning it. The 
 shops were all shut, and there was a dreadful panic. Just 
 as I was entering the carriage of M. de Castillon, a gentle- 
 man came up to us in a state of great alarm and told us 
 to return to the H6tel Galifet. Still, although only a 
 soldier of the Pope,^ I told him we should stand our 
 ground and see what was going to happen. The result 
 showed I was right. 
 
 We returned in the carriage to the house of the First 
 President, when all was over. The whole affair was in- 
 significant. It may happen, however, that a reveille may 
 be rung out for Beveillon to-night. This is the whole truth 
 of the matter. (Vatican Archives : Nunciature of France.) 
 
 VT. 
 
 Letter of Mgr. de Salamon to the Editor-in-chief of the 
 Ami de la Religion. 
 
 I have read in your journal of the 17th, that an ecclesi- 
 astic of the diocese of Besan^on had refuted the pamphlet 
 which attacks the authenticity of the Briefs issued by 
 Pius VI. against the Constitution of the Clergy. Allow 
 me to confirm the statements of this ecclesiastic, and to 
 add my positive testimony to the proofs he has adduced. 
 
 Although a clerical councillor in the Parliament of Paris, 
 I was born a subject of Pius VI., and was named by him 
 in 1790, after the departure of Mgr. Dugnani, inter 
 nuncio to Louis XVI. I was recognized as such, and 
 exercised the functions of the oflSce until the 10th of 
 August. 
 
 In March, 1791, I received, through Cardinal Zelada, 
 
 1 That is to say, a priest. 
 
APPENDIX. 299 
 
 the original briefs, in the legal and usual form, with a 
 short letter on parchment for each of the metropolitans. 
 I forwarded them at once to Cardinal de La Rochefou- 
 cauld, archbishop of Rouen, the archbishops of Cambrai, 
 Toulouse, and Aries, who were still in France, and even 
 to Cardinal de Lomdnie. 
 
 These prelates acknowledged their reception, all but the 
 archbishops of Toulouse and Sens. When I complained 
 of this silence to the Abb^ Godard, grand vicar of Toulouse, 
 I received a reply, a little after, from the archbishop. 
 
 I had them translated and printed by the Sieur Copart, 
 although very heavy penalties then existed against all who 
 should publish acts emanating from Rome. 
 
 The authenticity of these briefs cannot, therefore, be 
 called in question. 
 
 Louis DE Sal AMOK, Bishop of Saint-Flour. 
 
 8aint-Floub, 30th of October, 1821. 
 
 vn. 
 
 Fragments of the Memoirs of the Abbe Sicard, relative to 
 Mgr. de Salamon and the Cure de Saint- Jean en Greve. 
 
 "... While all this was passing, the door of the prison 
 was opened with a great noise to admit a fresh victim. 
 And what a victim ! Great God ! it was one of my com- 
 rades in the Mairie, whom I believed dead, the Abb^ 
 
 S .^ He had been transferred, with sixty others, on 
 
 the 1st of September, had been dragged in the midst of 
 them to the yard, to be massacred with them, and had 
 found himself unconsciously in the ranks of the murderers, 
 instead of among the murdered. Profiting by the disorder 
 that reigned in this execrable theatre, he made his way to 
 
 ^ Salamon. 
 
300 APPENDIX. 
 
 the very table where the committee sat, and begged his 
 life with that accent of despair which penetrates the 
 hardest hearts. The result was that he was locked up 
 amongst us. 
 
 '' What an interview and what a moment for us both! 
 ... I had learned through the concierge of the massacre 
 of all the prisoners, with whom I knew that he was. When 
 I saw him again, it seemed to me as if I was about to see 
 all my other friends. 
 
 " It was he who informed me of the glorious and heroic 
 death of the cure of Saint-Jean en Greve, that venerable 
 old man, who replied with such courage to the questions 
 of his assassins, and who preferred death to the oath 
 which they proposed, demanding only one favor, that 
 his death might be as speedy as possible, and he ob- 
 tained it. 
 
 " The most ferocious of the band seized the old man 
 by the hair, fixed his head on a block, and struck at 
 it with a sabre. Another hewed off the head from the 
 trunk. 
 
 " Thus began the massacre of those victims to whom 
 Manuel, ten days before, had announced their freedom. . . . 
 
 " Such was the narrative of my old comrade, who had 
 escaped by a miracle from this bloody tragedy. 
 
 ' ' About three in the morning, when there was no longer 
 any one to be slaughtered, the murderers remembered that 
 there were still some prisoners in the violon. They knocked 
 at the little door opening on the yard. Every blow was for 
 us a sentence of death. We thought we were lost. 
 
 '' I rapped gently at the door which communicated with 
 the hall of the committee, trembling with fear lest I should 
 be heard by the assassins who were threatening to break in 
 the other door. The commissaries answered that they had 
 no key. We had, then, to await in patience our frightful 
 destiny. 
 
APPENDIX. 801 
 
 ** There were three of us in this prison.^ My two com- 
 rades saw a plank above us which they thought might 
 afford us a chance of safety. Only one could reach it, 
 by mounting on the shoulders of the others. 
 
 ** One of them addressed me in these words : * Only one 
 can escape. You are more useful in the world than we 
 are, and that one must be you. We can form a ladder 
 for you wilh our two bodies.* " 
 
 Then follows a contest of generosity between the three, 
 not unlike that described by Coppee in his drama, entitled : 
 ** L'un ou Tautre." Finally, the Abbd Sicard climbs to the 
 shoulders of the first, then to those of the second, and 
 thanks to this ladder — and also to his agility — disap- 
 pears. He climbs back again when the danger vanishes, 
 and his presers^ers had not to pay for their devotion with 
 their lives. 
 
 vin. 
 
 Another Fragment, supposed to be by the Abbe Godard.^ 
 
 " The cure of Saint-Jean en Greve addressed these 
 words to his companions : — 
 
 "* My dear brethren! to-day is Sunday. We would 
 all celebrate or hear Mass, if we were free. Since we 
 cannot have this happiness, let us unite ourselves with the 
 sacrifice offered at this moment by some minister of Jesus 
 Christ ; there is every likelihood that this shall be our last 
 Mass, and that our next one may be said in heaven. Every- 
 thing proclaims that this is our last day.' 
 
 1 According to the AbM Sicard, this happened before the arrival of 
 
 S , that is to say, Salamon. 
 
 2 " Annales Catholiques," t. 1, Relation de la Conversion de M. de 
 Chamois. This episode recalls that of the massacres of the Commune, 
 in which President Bonjeau, converted by the Jesuits, confessed to 
 Pere Ollivaint. 
 
302 APPENDIX. 
 
 " Immediately, all the priests fell on their knees, and 
 the cure began the prayers of the liturgy." 
 
 Further on the writer speaks of '^ the confession " : — 
 
 ''At these words [of the cure] M. de Chamois threw 
 himself at the feet of the priest and confessed. 
 
 " All the priests confessed to one another. They then 
 begged the saintly cure to give them the general absolu- 
 tion." . . . 
 
 The author describes the escape of the prisoners 
 through the window : — 
 
 ''An order had been obtained from Manuel to deliver 
 one of the priests imprisoned in this hall [the chapel of 
 the Guild of Artisans]. He was summoned at the very 
 moment the assassins were breaking into it. The door 
 yielded to their blows, and that the priest protected by 
 Manuel might not be included in the general massacre, 
 they relaxed their fury for a time, and allowed this priest 
 to be called. 
 
 " He had escaped through one of the windows, and was 
 no longer with his companions. 
 
 " He was called for several times, and was told that 
 Manuel wished to save him. This priest was not known 
 to those who called for him. Some one else might have 
 taken this opportunity to escape. M. de Chamois could 
 have profited by it more than any one, for he was of the 
 same height as the priest who was to be saved." ^ 
 
 1 Comparing this account with the " Memoirs/' b. i. c. vii., we see 
 that this priest was the Abbe Godard, 
 
APPENDIX. 808 
 
 IX. 
 
 DISCOVERT OP THE PROTEST OF THE PARLIAMENT. 
 
 Extract from the notes to a poem on the death of de LoizerolleSy 
 quoted from the " Histoire du Tribunal Revolulionnaire,^' by M. 
 Campardon. 
 
 The President de Rosambo undoubtedly accelerated 
 his own destruction. 
 
 The anecdote is worthy of Tiberius, and I relate it on 
 the faith of that illustrious and unfortunate magistrate 
 himself, who told it to me with a serenity I was far from 
 sharing. 
 
 During the last year in which the Parliament of Paris 
 was allowed to hold its sessions, there had been a perma- 
 nent tribunal, called the Chambre des Vacations, destined 
 to prolong the course of justice until the accession of a 
 new order of magistrates. 
 
 This Chamber was presided over by the venerable de 
 Rosambo. 
 
 Before dissolving, it passed a unanimous resolution 
 protesting against the new disorganizing laws, which in a 
 few months had overturned a throne upon which sixty-three 
 kings bad sat. 
 
 The son-in-law of Malesherbes saw the necessity of 
 hiding from the Revolutionists the original monument of 
 his honorable resistance to the popular tyranny which was 
 beginning to involve every one in a common ruin. 
 
 He took into his confidence an old attendant who had 
 been in his service for thirty years, and whom he believed 
 incapable of treachery. He ordered him to have a hollow 
 key made, in the interior of which the dangerous parch- 
 ment could be deposited. 
 
 His agent performed his mission. M. de Rosambo, 
 with his aid, placed the protest in the empty key, which 
 
304 APPENDIX. 
 
 was closed by a secret spring, and, tranquil as to the 
 issue, shut himself up with his family in the solitude of 
 Malesherbes. 
 
 The patriots of the Revolutionary Committee found 
 the means of undermining the agent of M. de Rosambo. 
 Perhaps they told him he should one day inherit the post 
 of president d, mortier if he enlightened his country on 
 the general conspiracy of the magistracy against the Re- 
 public, and the old servant did not hesitate to betray his 
 master to save his country. 
 
 PROTEST OF THE PARLIAMENT. 
 
 The undersigned, considering that the stability of the 
 throne, the glory of the nation, and the happiness of citi- 
 zens of all orders and of all classes require the perpetua- 
 tion of some monument which shall conserve the principles 
 by which the kingdom has been governed during so many 
 ages ; that, in the present circumstances, this obligation 
 is especially incumbent on the magistrates of the Chambre 
 des Vacations, inasmuch as they form a part of the First 
 Court of the realm, and can, therefore, alone supplement 
 the silence of the princes, peers, and magistrates from 
 whom they have been separated, — formally declare, at the 
 same time renewing their protests of the 5th of November 
 against the first attacks made on the laws and constitution 
 of the state, that it has never been their purpose to in any 
 manner approve the different decrees which they have 
 registered; and that such registration has been entered 
 only on the express condition that it should be renewed 
 on the return of the court ; that, as this condition cannot 
 be realized, every registration becomes null and void ; 
 that they cannot recognize the results of the deliberations 
 of an Assembly which ought legally to consist of the 
 
APPENDIX. 806 
 
 three orders composing the States-General, but which has 
 been deprived of its original nature and has constituted 
 itself by its own authority the National Assembly ; that, 
 finally, they protest and shall always protest against 
 everything that has been done or may be done by the 
 deputies of the States-General, which, in this pretended 
 Assembly, has, contrary to the express tenor of the man- 
 dates of its members, not only exceeded its power, 
 consisting principally in paying the debts of the state, 
 providing for the necessary expenditure by a due appor- 
 tionment of taxation, and establishing a wise reform in 
 the different departments of administration, but has even 
 abused it by violating property of every kind, by despoil- 
 ing the clergy, thereby holding religion up to contempt, 
 by overthrowing the noblesse^ which has alwa3's been one 
 of the chief pillars of the state, by the degradation of the 
 royal majesty, reduced to an empty phantom by the blows 
 levelled at its authority, and lastly, by a confusion of 
 powers destructive of the true principles of the Monarchy. 
 
 Signed : Le Pelletier de Rosambo, Duport, H. L. Fr^dy, 
 Dupuis, Nouer, Pasquier, Amelot, Lambert, Lescalopier, 
 d'Outremont, Camus de la Guibourg^re, Constance, 
 Lenoir, Sahuguet d'Espagnac, Salamon, Agard de Maa- 
 pas, Fagnier de Mardeuil. 
 
 This 14th day of October, 1790. 
 
 WRIT FOR THE APPREHENDING OF THE BODIES OF THE 
 SIGNERS OF THE PROTEST. 
 
 The Committee of General Safety decrees that Le 
 Pelletier de Rosanbo, Fredy, Dupuis, Pasquier, d'Outre- 
 mont, Fagnier de Mardeuil, Amelot, Lambert, Lescalo- 
 pier, Camus de la Guibourgere, Lenoir, Duport, Agard de 
 Maupas, Sahuguet d'Espagnac, Constance, Salomon^ 
 Roland, Ferrand, Sallier, Barreme, Oursin, Rouhette, 
 
 20 
 
306 APPENDIX. 
 
 and Bourree de Corberon, ex-presidents or councillors of 
 the ci-devant Parliament of Paris, shall be brought before 
 the Revolutionary Tribunal, being charged with signing or 
 approving certain protests tending to insult the liberty and 
 sovereignty of the people, calumniate the national repre- 
 sentation and restore the reign of tyranny, decrees, con- 
 sequently, that the said counter-revolutionary protests and 
 the other articles to be produced in evidence, discovered 
 in the house of Rosanbo, one of the conspirators, to whose 
 care they had been intrusted, shall be placed in the hands 
 of the public accuser. 
 
 The members of the Committee of General Safety : 
 Signed: Dubarran, M. Bayle, Vadier, Voulland, 
 Louis (du Bas-Rhin), Amar. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Extract from the Biographie Michaud {Art. Salamon), 
 
 "... Having been a second time indicted, he [de Sala- 
 mon] was obliged to make his escape. He lived for a 
 long time in the environs of Paris, concealing himself in 
 the thickets of the Bois de Boulogne,^ where he used to 
 sleep on a bed of leaves. He never entered Paris except 
 to dine at a restaurant, the proprietor of which was a roy- 
 alist like himself, and helped him to evade the search of 
 the police. He returned every evening to his asylum in 
 the forest, and lived thus until the fall of Robespierre. 
 . . ." The writer says, further on, " He was tried in 1798, 
 and menaced with deportation." These two errors, — 
 he was tried in 1796 and never menaced with deportation, 
 — as well as those contained in the preceding passage, 
 
 1 It is well known that the Bois de Boulogne became a pleasure 
 park in the early days of the "First Empire. Before that period, it was 
 a real wood, even a forest. It is necessary to remember this in read* 
 ing the narrative of the internuncio. 
 
APPENDIX. 807 
 
 lead me to believe that Dassance, the author of the article, 
 had these details from some disfigured oral tradition or 
 other. 
 
 xn. 
 
 Extracts fbom the Newspapers op the Time on the 
 Prosecution of the Internuncio at the Instance 
 OF THE Directory. 
 
 he Veridique ou Courrier universel of the 17th Nivose, 
 Year V. of the French Republic (Sunday the 1st of 
 January, 1797). 
 
 "... Three interesting cases have been for some time 
 attracting great crowds to the Palais de Justice. . . . 
 
 ** The third case is that of the Abbe Salamon, accused 
 of corresponding with the Pope. In order to have a pre- 
 text for depriving him, for some time longer, of his lib- 
 erty, the president applied the amnesty to a portion of the 
 crimes of which the prisoner is accused. The indictment, 
 therefore, was quashed, and he was remanded. He will 
 appear on another charge before the jury." 
 
 The Veridique of the 5th of January. Communicated by 
 Mgr, de Salamon to the editor of the journal. 
 
 From the prisons of the Conciergerie, 
 14th Nivose (4th of January, 1797). 
 
 In the depths of my dungeon, monsieur, I am informed 
 that the newspapers have resounded with the judgment 
 delivered in my case on the 8th of this month. Their 
 account of it is, however, very imperfect, and I beg you 
 to give a correct version of the facts in your journal, 
 which justly deserves the public confidence. 
 
 They report that I have been amnestied as to a part of 
 the crime imputed to me. 
 
 Amnesty is for crime, not for a pure and stainless soul. 
 
 We have pleaded with the greatest force to avoid this 
 
308 APPENDIX. 
 
 judgment. The document upon which it was based 
 should not have been introduced. It is a letter I wrote 
 during the Terror, while wandering in the Bois de Bou- 
 logne, and was forgotten among some of my old papers 
 in the country. 
 
 An amnesty is applicable only to a crime. Now, a let- 
 ter is not a crime ; it may be an index, a proof of a crime, 
 but a proof cannot be the subject of an amnesty. 
 
 I wished judgment to be given on the affair as it was, 
 confiding in the goodness of my cause and in the enlight- 
 ened justice of my jurors. I have succumbed, but it 
 must not therefore be inferred that I have consented to 
 be amnestied. 
 
 Signed, L. G. Salamon. 
 
 Ibid, of the 27th of January, 1797. 
 
 M. Salamon, ci-devant clerical councillor of the Par- 
 liament of Paris, accused of corresponding with the Court 
 of Rome, appeared to-day before the criminal Tribunal of 
 the Seine. If we are to judge of the intentions of the 
 government in his regard by the conduct of its commis- 
 sary in court, it cannot be denied that the Directory feels 
 a very great interest in the condemnation of M. Salamon, 
 for citizen Desmaisons ^ has gone considerably out of his 
 way to effect that result. 
 
 Before the opening of the case, the commissary, fear- 
 ing doubtless the favorable decision of the jurors, and 
 having more confidence in a military commission which 
 Would be packed by the Directory, moved that the pris- 
 oner be sent before such a commission, and tried as a spy. 
 But the tribunal refused this ridiculous motion, and de- 
 clared it had jurisdiction to deal with the affair. 
 
 After the indictment was read, — a document based 
 wholly on intercepted letters, — M. Bellart, the counsel 
 
 1 He is called Boulanger by the internuncio. 
 
APPENDIX. 809 
 
 for the prisoner, raised a question of the highest impor- 
 tance. He demanded that all these letters sliould be 
 declared inadmissible, because they had come into the 
 hands of the government only through a crime, that of 
 the violation of the secrecy of letters. 
 
 We wish it were in our power to follow the orator in the 
 arguments, marked by as much clearness as eloquence, 
 by which he proved that the Directory had not the right 
 to appropriate the letters whose secrecy it had violated, 
 and make them the groundwork of a criminal charge be- 
 fore a court of justice. He demonstrated that, in this 
 case, morality was in harmony with all legislation and 
 jurisprudence, both ancient and modern, which prohibited 
 the granting of such a right to any government. 
 
 We were sure the tribunal would have honored itself 
 in consecrating by its decision the principles expounded 
 by citizen Bellart. But it has ordered otherwise. The 
 affair will be finally determined to-morrow. 
 
 Ihid. of Thursday, the 26th of January, 1797. 
 
 After suffering all the wearisome delays of a trouble- 
 some and distressing trial, M. Salamon was to-day ac- 
 quitted by the Tribunal of the Seine. 
 
 The great interest taken in the accused, as well as the 
 talents of his defender, attracted a numerous concourse 
 of citizens, who showed by their applause their satisfac- 
 tion and joy at the verdict. 
 
 The Ami des lois of the 25th of December, 1796. 
 
 The Abbe Salamon, ex-councillor in the Parliament, 
 charged with having conspired along with Our Holy 
 Father the Pope, will be tried on the 8th before the crim- 
 inal Tribunal of the Seine. We have under our eyes a 
 list of the jurors who are to decide the case, and we can 
 assure our readers beforehand that the Abbe Salamon 
 and his accomplice, the Pope, will be acquitted. 
 
810 APPENDIX. 
 
 Ibid, of the 5th of January, 1797. 
 
 The Abbe Salamon has profited by the amnesty to go 
 to Avignon, no doubt with the intention of renewing his 
 intrigues in that city. But he is watched ; he had better 
 be prudent. 
 
 Annales catholiques of Januarj', 1797. 
 
 M. Salamon, ex-clerical councillor in the Parliament 
 of Paris, accused of a criminal correspondence with the 
 Court of Rome, has just been tried and acquitted by the 
 Tribunal of the Seine, to the great satisfaction of a nu- 
 merous audience, who manifested their joy by the hearti- 
 est applause. 
 
 Moniteur of Nonidi, 9th Pluviose (28th of January). 
 
 BepuUique Frangaise. — Judgment acquitting the Abbe 
 Salamon, accused of conspiring with the Pope. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 To Cardinal Gerdil. 
 Eminence, — 
 
 I have learned with sorrow that a letter I sent you by 
 Dr. Boejat, who has the honor of being known to you, 
 did not reach you. I have been actively engaged in 
 endeavoring to have the name of your nephew, M. Gerdil, 
 struck off the list of emigres; but affairs are marching 
 very slowly, and there are more than a hundred and forty 
 thousand names to be examined. 
 
 We have, however, some hope. The First Consul has 
 already permitted the return of thirteen thousand women ; 
 the men are to be dealt with afterward ; we are searching 
 for some documents bearing on the case of your nepliew. 
 "When I have them in my possession, I shall use every 
 
APPENDIX. 311 
 
 eflPort to have M. Gerdil's case attended to among the 
 first. 
 
 I am still without any occupation. Cardinal Gonsalvi 
 has given me hopes that the reconciliation between the two 
 powers, a reconciliation so desirable and necessary, may 
 relieve me from my enforced idleness, and may give me 
 that reward which the work of ten years amid storms and 
 tempests deserves. 
 
 I ask of your Eminence to seize any opportunity that 
 may be presented in my favor, to speak of me and to give 
 me your support. As you see, I have lost my protectors, 
 Pius VI. and Cardinal Zelada ; the latter hardly belongs 
 to this world now, and so I am like a man isolated from 
 everybody. 
 
 I am always at your orders in this place. M. Chaptal, 
 the son of the Minister of the Interior, will hand your 
 Eminence this letter, and take charge of any reply you 
 may be good enough to send me. 
 
 De Salamon. 
 
 Paris, 14 of May, 1801. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Reply of Cardinal GerdiL 
 
 In reply to your obliging letter, dated Paris, the 14th 
 of May, 1801, and which I received only on the 16th of 
 last January, I beg to assure you that I have never had 
 the honor of knowing, even by name, Dr. Boejat, whom 
 you suppose to be known to me. I must add also that 
 I have no knowledge as to the facts you mention with 
 regard to a nephew of mine, of whose condition and con- 
 duct I have been absolutely ignorant for many years. 
 
 I am not the less sensible, on that account, of the inter- 
 est you take in his lot, and I shall be well pleased to have 
 an opportunity of showing my gratitude, by recalling your 
 
312 APPENDIX. 
 
 name to the memory of those who are able to fulfil the 
 benevolent wishes of Cardinal Zelada in your regard. 
 
 Accept, monsieur, the sentiments of perfect considera- 
 tion, et cetera. 
 
 EoME, the 6th of Pebruary, 1802. 
 
 To Madame de Capellls^^ in religion Sister Henriette- 
 Therese de Jesus, Carmelite Nun in the Monastery 
 of Garpentras. 
 
 Rome, the 10th of December, 1814. 
 I have received, my honored superioress and friend 
 
 in our Lord,^ your dear letter of the 14th of November. 
 
 As I am inclined to think that, owing to your change of 
 
 1 Henriette-Therese de Jesus de Capellis was not only a holy nun, 
 as the internuncio says truly, but also a woman of great intellect and 
 of great courage. 
 
 She never left the country during the Terror. Learning that the 
 property of her brother, wiio emigrated, was about to be confiscated 
 and sold, as were the properties of all the emigres, she at once hastened 
 to Paris, boldly visited Robespierre, gave him her name, and protested 
 energetically against the injustice done her by the decree of confisca- 
 tion, since she was her brother's heiress and had never left Prance. 
 
 Her heroism conquered Robespierre, who ordered the decree to be 
 withdrawn. 
 
 After the peace of Amiens, her brother returned to Prance. His 
 amazement at finding all his property, which he had given up as lost, 
 may be more easily conceived than described. 
 
 "It is to me, it is to my courage," said his sister to him, "that you 
 owe all this ; but I insist that you spend a portion of your revenues in 
 buying back the convent of Garpentras, which has been sold as national 
 property." 
 
 The brother consented to the sacrifice, with the best grace in the 
 world. 
 
 '2 I am indebted for the following letters, particularly the last, 
 to the courtesy of the superioress of the Carmelites at Garpentras. 
 Gertain passages have only a local interest ; but, as tliese passages are 
 everywhere intermingled with reflections on political events, and as 
 they are calculated to add to the vividness of the curious picture the 
 internuncio draws of himself, I give them in full. Besides, they 
 redound in the highest degree to the honor of Madame de CapeUis. 
 
APPENDIX. 818 
 
 monastery and altars, both your own indulgences and 
 those applied to your privileged altar have become null 
 and void, I have at once asked for the renewal of all those 
 of your Order in general and those of your monastery and 
 privileged altar in particular. You will find enclosed the 
 rescript of the Pope, signed by Cardinal Galeffi, prefect. 
 The kindness of my friend, the postmaster-general, enables 
 me to send it to you franked. 1 flatter myself you will 
 see in my eagerness to serve you in this matter a proof of 
 my zeal for your interests, — you know how sincerely I 
 have been attached to you for a long time, — and also 
 an evidence of my remembrance of our dear and good 
 friend. 
 
 On the contrary, you must pray to our Lord that He 
 may preserve me from obtaining that hat which you wish 
 for me. God is my witness that I do not desire it, for I 
 have no ambition at all. You see that God does not aban- 
 don me, and that he has inspired our most Christian king 
 to reward me for my fidelity and my firmness in support of 
 good principles by giving me a post which I never asked. 
 
 You have done well in coming to the aid of the perse- 
 cuted, but do not expect any recompense or remembrance 
 of your work except from God alone. These gentlemen 
 forget all that has been done for them, and the one you 
 know of thinks of nothing but becoming Archbishop of 
 Milan, where he was a canon. 
 
 The two Cardinals Ruffo are much more grateful. 
 So I often go to see them, and they come to see me. 
 
 The Cardinal Archbishop of Naples is a saint. He 
 gave up an income of five hundred thousand livres sooner 
 than take the oath to Murat. 
 
 You have no need of any one's help, madame : your 
 asylum is yours, yours now and always ; still, should you 
 require the aid of the illustrious Archbishop of Rheims, 
 address yourself to me. 
 
 Do not set about building. Providence is great, and 
 
314 APPENDIX. 
 
 will provide. You can easily suit yourself with what you 
 have : you take up so little room ! 
 
 I am very sorry to learn that your dear cure is in bad 
 health ; give him my compliments, give them also to that 
 
 excellent lady, de L . I wrote some time ago to our 
 
 dear Henriette. We are good friends, and I love her, be- 
 cause she bears your name. 
 
 Do not give yourself any concern about the transmission 
 of the indulgences ; all has been arranged, and you shall 
 have them. I am well pleased, for you are sure to be 
 satisfied, and your holy community along with you. Pray 
 for me ; I still lack a little more fervor, but God will 
 take into account my zeal for religion and for His service. 
 I have caught a cold : that is all that ails me. We have 
 had much rain. But do you take care of your health, 
 which is more precious than mine : saints like you ought 
 never to die. 
 
 Yes, you will have a bishop at Carpentras ; I am work- 
 ing for it, and there is talk of M. I'Abbe Choisy. Take 
 good care to have nothing to do with your Bishop of 
 Avignon. 
 
 Adieu, my honored superioress ; believe in my entire 
 respect and devotion. 
 
 + The Bishop of Orthosia. 
 
 XV. 
 
 To the Same. 
 
 EoME, the 15th of March. 
 Your dear letter of the 17th of January, my venerable 
 prioress and friend, did not reach me until the 8th of this 
 month, the King of Sardinia having deemed it proper, I 
 do not know why, to stop the French mail for six weeks. 
 
 I am delighted to learn that you are well, and pleased 
 at receiving the rescript which confirms all the indulgences 
 
APPENDIX. 815 
 
 formerly gi'anted to your convent. I will always do all in 
 my power to second your efforts. I do not know what 
 you are asking of the Archbishop of Rheims, the grand 
 Almoner ; if I did, perhaps I could help you. I have the 
 honor to correspond with him, and he has the utmost 
 friendship and kindness for me. He is a prelate full of 
 virtue, and has the love of the king. 
 
 I do not see why any one should give you any alarm 
 about your asylum. You are there, you have bought it, 
 and the Carmelites will never return. In any case, 
 remember that this convent has never been anything but 
 a hospice inhabited by a few monks, and that even here, 
 in the centre of religion, very few monks and nuns are 
 anxious to return to their monasteries, either through ill 
 will, or because there are no revenues, or because some 
 convents have been sold. 
 
 I believe the restoration of our country is very far 
 from being effected. You see how very little concern the 
 Court of Rome gives itself to satisfy the king. Our 
 French Church is in a state of great confusion, and there 
 is no hurry to remedy it. All that is thought about are 
 the temporalities, and it makes one groan to see how the 
 true interests of religion are abandoned. Bonaparte used 
 to say: *■*' I wish," and he obtained everything; the king 
 says : " I pray " and he obtains nothing. 
 
 Put your confidence, then, in God alone ; He will find 
 a way to restore to the Church of France its ancient 
 lustre, and, as for yourself, go on doing good, and I will 
 take care that you are not disturbed. 
 
 Continue to make yourself useful ; form little classes of 
 children. 
 
 M. Michel Choisy must wait until the bishoprics are 
 re-established, which will be soon, and especially ours, 
 which is so ancient, and you will be protected by the new 
 prelate. I think it likely he [Choisy] may have a place 
 in the cathedral. 
 
316 APPENDIX. 
 
 I am grieved about the condition of your poor cure. 
 It is to be hoped that God may preserve him to you. 
 Give him my compliments, and also his worthy brother. 
 
 I thank Mademoiselle de L for remembering me. 
 
 She is one of those I most respect, and, if I may say so, 
 most love : her good qualities will always make her 
 beloved. 
 
 Just as in the case of yourself, my holy friend, all the 
 world loves you. If I were as holy as you, I should 
 make a treaty with you : it is that whichever of us two is 
 the first to go to heaven should pray for the survivor, 
 and thereby gain the mercy of God; being friends on 
 earth, one of us would thus be the friend of the other in 
 heaven. 
 
 I commend myself to the prayers of your dear sisters. 
 Yes, my establishment at Rome costs me dear, but the 
 Minister of Foreign Affairs promises that I shall be richer 
 next year. 
 
 Here, everything is ostentation. When I tell you, that 
 I, who often found one servant too much, have three 
 juris-consults for the Rota, two abbes for my antechamber, 
 two valets de chambre, who come before me dressed in 
 black, and wear immense silk mantles on occasions of 
 ceremony, and four horses, you will understand this. I 
 am obliged to keep a state carriage for the abbes and 
 valets, and three lackeys in livery. Nor is this all : I 
 think I pay wages to thirteen persons ; but I only feed 
 two. 
 
 I have a very nice garden. At this moment, it is full 
 of flowers and of orange-trees covered with fruit. I do 
 not know what to do with the oranges ; if we were only 
 nearer, I could supply you with plenty of oranges for 
 your collation, ay, and lemons too. 
 
 I can bear the climate very well, you see I have ac- 
 customed myself to it ; but I am troubled with headaches, 
 as I was in France. I had to work to receive the fruit of 
 
APPENDIX. 817 
 
 my good conduct, and you see the king has not made me 
 weary with waiting. He has, of his own motion, given 
 me this important post, of which I certainly never thought. 
 Perhaps, otherwise. Providence might have placed me 
 near you ; but it has been ordered differently. In any 
 case, we must bless God. 
 
 I have always had great confidence in Divine Provi- 
 dence, which has guided me almost by the hand ever 
 since my twenty-fifth year, pure and stainless. How 
 grateful ought I not to be ! 
 
 But our happiness is never perfect. I am isolated here 
 from all my friends, and particularly from you and your 
 dear family, whom I love from the bottom of my heart. 
 
 I am afraid our dear and amiable Henriette has lost an 
 opportunity of establishing herself, for which I am truly 
 grieved. . . . But I never know when to stop when I be- 
 gin speaking of you all. I must come to an end then, 
 my holy prioress, simply assuring you of my respectful 
 friendship. The Bishop. 
 
 The Abbe Joubert, a saintly priest, will bring you my 
 letter. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 To the Same, 
 
 Rome, the 9th of December.^ 
 I received, my dear and holy mother, your edifying 
 letter of the 8th of November with real pleasure. After 
 so long and painful a silence, what a consolation it is to 
 obtain news of those I esteem and love ! It is truly a 
 reward of Heaven for all the troubles, and, I may add, 
 dangers which I have encountered. 
 
 For I have actually had to meet them here ! 
 
 1 Although the year is not given, the contents show that it was 
 written in 1815, after the Hundred Days. 
 
318 APPENDIX. 
 
 That execrable Bonaparte, on the denunciation of 
 Fesch,! whom I had always refused to visit, had pointed 
 me out to Murat, who was to take possession of Rome, 
 and Murat recommended me to the notice of his generals 
 Pignatelli and Caracossa. 
 
 I was to have been conducted to Paris under a strong 
 escort. The Duchess Difiano, sister of one of the Nea- 
 politan generals, gave me warning. While thanking her, 
 I said that I never yielded to fear, and that I was disposed 
 to suffer whatever fate decreed. 
 
 The tribunal of the Rota not having followed the Pope 
 to Genoa, I remained here alone, exposed to all the sar- 
 casms of the evil-minded ; for there are many Jacobins 
 and Bonapartists in this place. But I have never aban- 
 doned my lily, and have always worn it on my black 
 soutane. Fortunately, the Neapolitans were routed by 
 the Germans, just as they were entering Rome, and I 
 escaped. 
 
 I have known all the magnanimity of your dear 
 nephew ; he is courageous, honorable, and loyal to his 
 king ; he is sure of success. God always watches over 
 His own. It was a real piece of good fortune that his 
 amiable wife should have found herself at Versailles. 
 
 My health is not perfect: ever since the end of 
 August, I have had feverish attacks, which left me for 
 a time, but only to return every third day. I have felt 
 better, however, for the last ten days : I am, in fact, quit 
 of them for the time ; I am at my third pound of quinine, 
 for there is no other means of getting rid of them here. 
 But they will return. 
 
 I am delighted that you should have kept in such good 
 health in the midst of this terrible storm. I congratulate 
 you on at length receiving the reward of all your sacri- 
 fices and sufferings by being restored to a monastery of 
 your Order and able to live there in accordance with your 
 
 1 Cardinal Fesch, uncle of JSTapoleon. 
 
APPENDIX. 819 
 
 holy and admirable institute. I see that your flock has 
 increased in a miraculous manner, since Providence has 
 given you back two holy nuns whose resources, fortu- 
 nately preserved to them, will enable you to support your 
 convent. 
 
 I have spoken to Galefli, cardinal secretary of memo- 
 rials, regarding them and their infirmities. His answer 
 was the same as that given already : they must address 
 themselves to their confessors, who would decide whether 
 their condition requires any modifications of the rule in 
 their regard, which, indeed, it seems to do, and even a 
 superioress can herself see to this ; for you know very 
 well yourself whether their physical weakness permits 
 them to observe the rule in its entirety or not, and you 
 know also that the observance of the rule is painful, and 
 demands the possession of good health. No scruples then, 
 and let them do only what they can ; you have the greater 
 reason for trying to keep them that these ladies are a 
 great help to your house. 
 
 In fact, madame, my opinion, like yours, is that the 
 affairs of the clergy will progress slowly ; there is very 
 little ardor in the matter, and even a good deal of want of 
 interest. 
 
 I was well aware that the education of young people 
 was entirely outside the requirements of your Order. You 
 had good motives for undertaking it, however, and now 
 that these no longer exist, you confine yourself within the 
 limits of your rule : all this is very laudable. But, my 
 holy mother, since the great Pius VI. gave you a dispensa- 
 tion, and since Pius VII. confirmed it on his way to Lyons, 
 what do you want more ? Profit by it ; it is now for your 
 confessors and directors to direct you on this article : you 
 have no longer need of Rome. Be guided by your con- 
 science and your confessors. But above all, no scruple ; 
 it is the shoal upon which true piety is wrecked. 
 
 And how can these two holy women have scruples in 
 
820 APPENDIX. 
 
 the matter, when two Popes have dispensed you from your 
 obligations? These dispensations are good until they are 
 revoked. Even if they are revoked by the conscience of 
 some, they subsist in their full vigor for those whose 
 health or age prevents them from following the rule. A 
 person need not be a great casuist to settle this question ; 
 you yourself ought to diminish your austerities, in conse- 
 quence of your spitting up blood, and you are bound to 
 take care of your health, since you are the soul of your 
 holy community. 
 
 I cannot tell you what pleasure I have received from 
 the letter of the dear sister-in-law : she enters into many 
 details. 
 
 As for Sister B , you must recall her, in virtue of 
 
 holy obedience, if you are able to support her, and she is 
 conscientiously bound to return to the convent in wiiich 
 she was professed. Her confessor should make her feel 
 
 this. The superior A has no rights over her. Make the 
 
 cure write to this dishonest superior, who does not know 
 his business; on the whole, better wait till there is a 
 bishop at Carpentras or at Avignon ; I '11 see that she 
 returns. I have a very clear idea of the thoughtlessness 
 of her father and of all her family, although I have lost 
 sight of them since childhood; for I have not lived in 
 Carpentras since I was nine years old.^ 
 
 It is certain that the king has asked for the resigna- 
 tion of all the bishops of France ; you are quite sure, 
 therefore, not to have P . 
 
 My best regards to our dear cure, and my respects to 
 Mademoiselle de L . 
 
 I thank you from my heart for 5^our kindly sentiments 
 in my regard ; I hope to have the joy of seeing your little 
 flock raised to eighteen. Pray to God for me, for I am in 
 
 1 Same detail in Book I. of the " Memoirs," and this concordance 
 between a private letter of the internuncio and the narrative is a fresh 
 proof of their authenticity. 
 
APPENDIX. 321 
 
 much trouble. I keep for you a tender affection in God, 
 and I shall always be happy to give you proofs of it. 
 Respects and compliments. 
 
 + The Bisuop. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Article in the " Biographie Universelle " or Fellert 
 
 PiRENNis, WHICH SUMMARIZES THE WHOLE LIFE OF MgR. 
 
 de Salamon. 
 
 Salamon (Louis-Siffren- Joseph), Bishop of Saint-Flour, 
 was born of a noble family at Carpentras, on the 22d of 
 October, 1759, and came when very young to Paris, where 
 he purchased the office of clerical councillor in the Parlia- 
 ment. He was appointed confidential correspondent of 
 his Holiness in 1791, and held this position until the 
 month of July, 1792, when he was arrested and conducted 
 to the Abbaye. His eloquence and coolness saved him 
 from the massacres of September. After recovering his 
 liberty, he continued his correspondence with the Holy 
 Father. Having been again prosecuted by the Terrorists, 
 he lived in concealment for a long time in the environs of 
 Paris. He was even compelled to take refuge in the 
 Bois de Boulogne, where a pile of leaves serv'cd him for 
 a bed. He was arrested under the Directory and menaced 
 with deportation, but was acquitted. Pope Pius VII. 
 named him, in 1806, Bishop in pariihus of Orthosia, in 
 Caria, and the king, in 1814, gave him the place of Audi- 
 tor of the Rota. But the Sovereign Pontiff, considering 
 that there was no reason why Mgr. Isoard, who was in 
 possession, should be deprived of it, refused to accept 
 him. After staying three years in Rome, Salamon re- 
 turned to Paris, was named, in 1817, Bishop of Belley, 
 and, in 1820, Bishop of Saint-Flour. This prelate died 
 
 21 
 
322 APPENDIX. 
 
 on the 11th of June, 1829. Certain '' Lettres de Rome " 
 attributed to him and addressed to M. de Talleyrand- 
 Perigord, Grand Almoner, were published in 1815. They 
 are curious on account of the details they give on the 
 feelings and opinions of the Romans, when the first tidings 
 of the landing of Bonaparte arrived. 
 
INDEX. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Alemane, Vicomtesse de j a prisoner in her own house, as de Salamon 
 
 prevailed on Dr. Guastaldi to give her a certificate of ill-health, 148; 
 
 sends her servant for de Salamon's letters, 148 ; visits him at the 
 
 Conciergerie, 250. 
 AnoraU) President ; his life saved by Richard's granddaughter, 262 ; 
 
 shows his gratitude to her on his visit to de Salamon at the Con- 
 
 ciergerie, 262. 
 AUBUSSON, Marquise de ; meets de Salamon on the road to Passy, 228 ; 
 
 visits him in prison, 250. 
 AuDiN RouvitRE ; an ex-abbe and countryman of de Salamon, 151 ; 
 
 receives the fugitive, 153 ; successful in teaching medicine, but 
 
 unsuccessful in love, 154 ; alarmed at his responsibility, 155 ; de 
 
 Salamon takes leave of him, 156. 
 AULNAY, D*, Madame, not disturbed during the Revolution ; succeeds 
 
 in conveying money to Blanchet, 149 ; all her relatives in prison, 
 
 186 ; sends good news to de Salamon, 186, 187 ; visits him at the 
 
 Conciergerie, 250. 
 
 Baillt, mayor of Paris; he tries to humiliate the Cbambre des Vaca- 
 tions, 120 ; is thwarted by de Salamon and fails, 121. 
 
 BaIxBO, Comte, Sardinian Ambassador to the Directory ; gives no aid 
 to de Salamon, 242 ; the latter's retaliation after his release, 242. 
 
 Balbo, Comtesse ; a daughter of Madame de Villeneuve-Segur. See 
 note, xiv. 
 
 Beaulief, Abbe Chaubri de, ex-clerical counsellor ; conceals himself 
 and learns a trade, 134 ; never molested during the Terror, 135 ; 
 afterward a lawyer, 135. 
 
 Bellart, de Salamon's counsel ; argues vainly against quashing the 
 indictment, 259 ; his protest against adjournment, 268 ; despairs 
 of an acquittal, 276 ; speaks against Boulanger, 278 ; frightens the 
 judges, 281 ; his eloquence (see note), 286. 
 
 Belmonte, Prince de, Neapolitan ambassador ; signs treaty with 
 Directory, 218. 
 
826 INDEX. 
 
 Bertrand, a police agent and an "abominable man," 223. 
 
 BiOGRAPHiE Universelle of Feller-Perennes (Art. Salanion), 321-322. 
 
 BiOGRAPHiE Michaud (Art. Salamon), extract from, 307-308. 
 
 Blanchet, Mme., the internuncio's housekeeper ; her conversations 
 with M. de Malesherbes, 12 ; her despair at her master's arrest, 14 ; 
 follows him to the Mairie, 19 ; her astuteness, 20 ; visits Petion 
 with Tome, 40, 41 ; learns that her master has perished in the 
 massacre, 96 ; turns over the dead bodies in the Abbaye, 97 ; stops 
 Sergent in the street and prevails on him to save the internuncio, 
 98; receives three thousand francs from Pope Pius VI., 112; her intu- 
 itions, 135 ; she is arrested, 141 ; frightens the savages who perse- 
 cute her, 143 ; imprisoned in Les Anglaises, 144 ; the imprisoned 
 aristocratic ladies treat her with contempt, 144, 145 ; a friend in 
 need, 145 ; she tells a great lady what she thinks of her, 187 ; 
 she is released, 198 ; sets out in search of her master, 199 ; arrested, 
 222 ; in a prison for unfortunate women : an affecting incident, 
 236 ; a sad interview, 237 ; transferred to the Madelonnettes, 239; 
 released, 247 ; influencing the jurors in favor of de Salamon, 273 ; 
 her death, 204, 205. See note, 204. 
 
 Bo^JAT ; takes charge of a letter of de Salamon to Cardinal de Gerdil, 
 310 ; the cardinal denies he has met him, 311. 
 
 Boissiere, Abbe de ; visits de Salamon in the Conciergerie, 269. 
 
 Bonaparte, Napoleon ; his description of the massacres of September, 
 and of their authors, xxvi ; invades the Pope's dominions, 217 ; 
 denounces de Salamon to Murat, 318. 
 
 BouLANGER, commissary of the Directory ; proposes to quash the 
 indictment against de Salamon, 258 ; a new adjournment, 266 ; 
 fails to get another adjournment, 278 et seq. ; demands a trial by 
 a military commission, 279. 
 
 Bourdon de l'Oise, is visited by de Salamon, 201 ; promises to have 
 a decree in his favor passed by the committee of the section, 202 ; 
 secures his freedom, 203. 
 
 Bourgeois, the painter, xx ; his portrait of the internuncio, xx. 
 
 BouzET, Abbe de ; imprisoned with the internuncio, 19 ; refused to 
 take the oath, 74 ; butchered, 74. 
 
 Braschi, Duke, nephew of Pius VI. sent to Bonaparte, 217 ; an 
 anecdote which de Salamon heard from him, 221. 
 
 Brienne, Lomenie, Cardinal de ; placed at the head of the finances, 
 294 ; creating a panic, 297 ; his expulsion from the college of car- 
 dinals, 215. 
 
 Brissac, Due de, politically connected with the internuncio, 8 ; pre- 
 sents the latter to Louis XVI., 8. 
 
 Brottier, Abbe ; offers assistance to de Salamon in the name of the 
 princes, 150. See note, 150. 
 
 BuscA, Cardinal, secretary of State ; his orders to de Salamon, 216 ; 
 his letter, 233. 
 
INDEX. 827 
 
 Caccia, Italian banker, refuses to cash the cheque of de Salamon, 148 ; 
 is deprived of his position as banker to the Pope, 166. 
 
 Cadet, substituted on de Salamon's list of jurors, 272. 
 
 Campo, Marquis del, ambassador of Spain; the internuncio confers 
 with him, 216 ; refuses to interfere in behalf of de Salamon, 242. 
 
 Cani, Abb6 de ; offers his purse to de Salamon, 250. 
 
 Capellis, Madame de, a Carmelite nun ; her heroism conquers Robe- 
 spierre, and she receives her brother's property (see note), 812 ; 
 de Salamon's letters to, 312-321. 
 
 Capparuis, Aboe, a countryman of the internuncio ; massacred at the 
 Abbaye, 75. 
 
 Caprara, Cardinal ; appointed legate a latere, 112. 
 
 Caraccosa, Qeneral ; one of the generals sent to arrest de Salamon, 
 318. 
 
 Champagne, AbW, a married deacon, one of de Salamon's jurors, 290 ; 
 favors his acquittal, 290. 
 
 Champcenetz, Madame de ; imprisoned in Les Anglaises, 144 ; her 
 harshness to Blanchet, 144 ; Dr. Guastaldi remonstrates, and she 
 gives her money, 146. 
 
 Champlatreux, de, president d mortier; arrested, 129. 
 
 Chaplain of the HOtel-Dieu, the ; "a rascal and knight of the pon- 
 iard," 23 ; adopted by the internuncio, 24 et seq. ; massacred, 76. 
 
 Chaptal, takes charge of de Salamon's letter to Cardinal de Gerdil, 311. 
 
 Charet ; substituted on de Salamon's list of jurors, 272. 
 
 Charles X. ; his generosity to the Maison de Pleaux, xxxviii. 
 
 Charlotte Cord ay; her execution, 15; the internuncio's opinion of 
 her, 15. 
 
 Charnois, de ; an infidel, converted before the massacre, 302 ; could 
 have escaped instead of Godard, 302. 
 
 Charpentier; substituted on de Salamon's list of jurors, 272. 
 
 Chateaubriand, de ; arrested, 129 ; writes to de Salamon from 
 prison, 139. 
 
 Chiaramonti, Cardinal ; afterward Pius VII., 221. 
 
 Choisy, Abbe; references to, in de Salamon's letters, 314, 315. 
 
 CocHON, Minister of Police ; arrests the internuncio's courier, 220. 
 
 Colin, Mme. ; visits de Salamon in his dungeon, 225 et seq. ; 
 drinks chocolate with him in the Grande Force, 245 et seq. ; sets 
 about influencing de Salamon's jurors, 273; has a suit of her own 
 before the court, 274 ; reads the speech written for her by de Sala- 
 mon, and wins it, 275. 
 
 Collet, ex-President of San Domingo ; has good news for de Sala- 
 mon, 186; takes charge of his letter to the Committee of General 
 Safety, asking for Blanchet's release, 198. 
 
 Colli, General ; sent by the German Emperor to organize the Pope's 
 army, 217. 
 
328 INDEX. 
 
 CoNDOBCET ; supposed liaison with the Duchesse de La Eochefoueault- 
 
 Danville, 187. 
 CouRViLLE, Baronne de ; her adventure with de Salamon in the Bois 
 
 de Boulogne, 191 et seq.; his suspicions of her and her daughter, 
 
 194 ; prove groundless, 198. 
 Crequi, Marquise de ; de Salamon introduces Richard's servant into 
 
 her household, 253. 
 
 Delacroix, Minister of Foreign Affairs ; his interview with the inter- 
 nuncio (see note), 216. 
 Dellebart, Mme. ; her friendship for de Salamon, 132 ; his visits to 
 
 her house, passim ; her last illness, 205, 206 ; is converted by de 
 
 Salamon, 207 ; makes him a present of the works of Rousseau and 
 
 Voltaire, and dies very piously, 208. 
 DEvtezE, journalist ; in prison with de Salamon, 243 ; when released, 
 
 wishes to defend him, 244. 
 DiFiANO, Duchess ; warns de Salamon that he is to be arrested, 318. 
 Dillon, Archbishop of Narbonne ; thanks the king, at the head of the 
 
 clergy, for the edict in favor of non- Catholics, 295 ; indignation of 
 
 de Salamon at his conduct, 296. 
 Directory, The ; willing to negotiate with the Pope, 216 ; breaks off 
 
 negotiations, 217 ; the enemy of de Salamon, 257 ; violates the 
 
 constitution, 280. 
 DucHiLLEAU, Madame; imprisoned in Les Anglaises ; her generosity 
 
 to Blanchet, 146. 
 DuGAzoN, the actor ; presides over the assassins for a time, 86 ; no one 
 
 killed when he was present, 87. 
 DuGNANi, Mgr., nuncio at Paris; his flight, 214; de Salamon writes 
 
 him a letter describing the attack on Reveillon, 297-298. 
 
 Elizabeth, Madame ; the internuncio's visits to, 102 ; questions Rich- 
 ard about the queen, 263 ; anecdotes of, 264. 
 
 EuTELX, Marquise d' ; offers an asylum to de Salamon, 176. 
 
 EvANGELiSTi, XXX (note) ; the secretary of legation of the papal em- 
 bassy in 1796, 196. 
 
 Favier, the famous diplomatist of Louis XV., 140. 
 
 F^RON, an officer of the Parliament ; imprisoned in the Mairie, 17 
 
 his generosity to the internuncio, 18. 
 Fesch, Cardinal ; advises Murat to arrest de Salamon, 318. 
 Feuillade, de la ; lodges in the same house with de Salamon, 184 : 
 
 Grandin quarrels with him, 184. 
 
INDEX. 829 
 
 FOURKTSR DS LA Chapellb, a refugee at Passy ; he brings the news to 
 de Salamon that all his colleagues have been 'guillotined, 190. 
 
 Franoini, Cardinal ; an intimate friend of de Salamon, 237. 
 
 Fr^dy, doyeu of the Parliament of Paris ; opposed by de Salamon, 
 122, 123. 
 
 Gacecoitrt, de; an Emigre ; in the prison infirmary with de Salamon, 
 243. 
 
 Gerdil, Cardinal de ; letter to, from de Salamon, asking his patron- 
 age, 310-311 ; his reply, 311-312. 
 
 Gervais, Abb^ de ; imprisoned in the Mairie, 19 ; transferred to the 
 Abbaye and massacred, 76. 
 
 GiRARD, Abb^ ; a member of de Salamon's council, 161 ; author of the 
 Comte de Valmont (see note, 161) ; retained as an adviser by de 
 Salamon, 185. 
 
 GiRARD, Mile. ; meets de Salamon, 169; hires a lodging for him in 
 Passy, 171; prevents Grandin from presenting him to the Com- 
 mune, 183. 
 
 GoDARD, Abb^ ; at the Mairie with the internuncio, 19 ; learns from 
 Manuel that the prisoners are to be transferred, and rejoices, 26 ; 
 laughs at the forebodings of the internuncio, 28 ; escapes into the 
 yard of the Abbaye, 64 ; saved by Manuel, 66 et seq. ; extracts 
 from memoirs supposed to have been written by him, 301-302. 
 
 GoHiER ; president of the Criminal Tribunal, 257 ; his reply to Vi- 
 gier, 273. 
 
 GoURGFES, de, president d mortier ; arrested, 129. 
 
 Grabourtra, Mme. de ; visits de Salamon's friends, with the object 
 of influencing his jurors, 273. 
 
 Grandin, Mme. ; lets a garret to de Salamon, 171 : scolds him se- 
 verely, 174 ; her drunken Jacobin husband, 177; she alarms de 
 Salamon, 178 ; has discovered he is a noble, 183 ; is rebuked by her 
 daughter, 184 ; shows herself a kindly virago, 229. 
 
 Graveson, Mme. de ; see Eutelx, Marquise d'. 
 
 GtJASTALDi, physician to the prison of Les Anglaises ; interferes in be- 
 half of Blanchet, 145 ; she is treated differently by the great ladies 
 in consequence, 146. 
 
 H^ATTT DE SiicHELLES ; reccives a letter from the internuncio, 108 ; 
 goes to the Commune and insists on the internuncio's release, 108. 
 
 Herc^, Mgr. de ; exiled for opposing the edict in favor of the non- 
 Catholics, 294. 
 
 Huguenin, commandant in the National Guards ; his pardon asked by 
 the Marseillais, 79 ; is granted, 85. 
 
330 INDEX. 
 
 Inguimbert, Mgr. d' ; a famous benefactor of Carpentras, xvi. 
 IsoABD, Mgr. d' ; retained as auditor at Rome, although Louis XVIII. 
 appoints de Salamon, xxxv. 
 
 JoLY, Canon ; his encounter with de Salamon in the Bois de Meudon, 
 162-164 ; his description of the people of Passy suggests a plan to 
 de Salamon, 167; de Salamon does not want him in his council, 
 185. 
 
 JouRDAN ; presides over the Civil Committee, 100 ; examines the inter- 
 nuncio on his connection with the court, 102 ; intercepted his let- 
 ters, 103. 
 
 JuiGN^, Mgr. de, archbishop of Paris ; his support of the edict in 
 favor of the Protestants causes it to be registered, 7. 
 
 JussiEU, the naturalist ; gives a lecture to his pupils in the Bois de 
 Meudon, 186 ; is met by de Salamon, who dines with him at 
 Sevres, 186. 
 
 La DEvtezE, proprietor of the Journal des Debats ; offers to defend de 
 
 Salamon, 244. 
 La Rochefoucault, Madame de, a prisoner in Les Anglaises ; is nursed 
 
 by Blanchet, 187. 
 La Rochefoucault, Due de ; expels M. de Saron from his court, 15. 
 La Rochefoucault -Danville, Duchesse de ; her gibe at Blanchet, 
 
 and Blanchet's retort, 187. 
 La Villeheurnois, de ; conspiracy of, 250. 
 Leblanc de Varennes ; substituted on de Salamon's list of jurors, 
 
 272 ; protests against an adjournment, 278. 
 Lebois ; arrested for attacking the Directory, see note, 261. 
 Le Couteau be la Norai ; his ingratitude to de Salamon, 277 ; 
 
 refuses to act as one of his jurors, 277. 
 Legendre ; secures the release of Blanchet, 198. 
 Legras, President; examines de Salamon, 237; transfers him to La 
 
 Force, 238 ; reads the indictment, 257 ; his unfairness, 258. 
 Lemoyne, Abbe ; a member of de Salamon's council, 163, 164, 18.5. 
 Lenfant, Abbe, the king's confessor ; meets death serenely, 108. 
 Leroy, or Montmartre ; his adventures in England, 244 ; is a 
 
 republican, returns to France, arrested as an emigre, 245 ; his 
 
 intercourse with de Salamon, 246 et seq. 
 Louis XVI. ; his reception of the internuncio, 8, 9 ; receives the 
 
 address drawn up by the internuncio on behalf of the Catholics of 
 
 Paris, xxiii ; his relations with Manuel's mistress, 67, 68. 
 
INDEX. 831 
 
 Haillard, ex-attorney of the Chdtelet ; succeeds Dugazon as president 
 
 of the assassins, 87 ; fresh massacres, 87 ; acquits the Due de 
 
 Penthi^vi-e's servant, 87 ; assists the internuncio in his defence, 89 ; 
 
 bids him enter the violon, 90. 
 Malesherbes, De ; his opinion of Blanchet, 12 ; arrested, 129. 
 Manuel, attorney of the Commune ; notifies the prisoners in the 
 
 Mairie that they are to be transferred, 26 ; saves the Abbe Godard, 
 
 66, 67 ; Manuel's mistress prevails on him to save the Abb6 
 
 Godard, 67 ; her relations with Louis XVI., 67, 68 ; planned the 
 
 escape of the King, 68 ; his interference with the Chambre des 
 
 Vacations, 119. 
 Marat ; prescribed for the internuncio, 15 ; receives him without 
 
 insult, but warns him, 16. 
 Marc^, de, Councillor ; imprisoned in the Madelonnettes, 133. 
 Marchand, court usher ; acquainted with Richard, 270 ; the eflFect of 
 
 a bottle of Malaga, 271 ; an " excellent usher," 272 ; promises to 
 
 substitute the names of other jurors, 273. 
 Marie Antoinette ; her life in the Conciergerie, 250 et seq. ; new 
 
 anecdotes of, related by Richard and Richard's servant, 251 et seq. ; 
 
 the faithful lap-dog, 254 ; overlooks the gendarmes playing piquet, 
 
 262 ; why she thought Richard had been a butler, 263. 
 Massieu, the deaf mute ; sent with a letter to the Assembly by the 
 
 Abbe' Sicard, 107. 
 MATfEi, Cardinal ; sent by the Pope to sue for peace, 217. 
 Maury, Abb6 ; the internuncio's connection with him, 102 ; examined 
 
 by the Civil Committee as to his correspondence with him, 102. 
 MoDfeNE, Comte de, an intimate friend of the internuncio, 85. 
 Monotte, the Jacobin watchmaker, 33 ; saves the Abbe Sicard, 34. 
 MoNTBOissiER, Mme. de ; relates the interview between President de 
 
 Rosambo and Blanchet, 96. 
 MoNTMORiN, de, minister of foreign affairs ; not liked by Pius VI., 7 ; 
 
 the internuncio refuses to call upon him, 8. 
 MuRAT ; orders two of his generals to arrest de Salaraon, 318 ; his 
 
 troops routed at Rome, 318. 
 
 Newspapers, the, on the prosecution of de Salamon, 307-310. 
 Nicole, journalist ; imprisoned with de Salamon, 243 ; defends him 
 in his journal, 244. 
 
 Orli^ans, Philippe, Due de ; " Look where vice and virtue have in 
 turn reposed ! " 263 ; his demeanor before starting for the scaffold, 
 263. 
 
 Ormesson, Noiseau d*, president d mortier, arrested, 129 ; kept under 
 surveillance in his own house, 133. 
 
332 INDEX. 
 
 Pasqijier ; warned by de Salamon to escape, but afterward imprisoned 
 and guillotined, 134. 
 
 Pasquier, fils ; married by de Salamon in 1793, 168 ; prefect of 
 police from 1808 to 1812 (see note), 168. 
 
 Pastoret, ex- attorney-general of the department ; he ejects President 
 de Saron from his court, 15. 
 
 PENTHifevRE, Due de, a servant of ; in the Abbaye, 46 ; the inter- 
 nuncio tells him how to answer his judges, 75 ; is tried before 
 Maillard and acquitted, 87. 
 
 Perioord, Cardinal de ; see Talleyrand- Perigord. 
 
 POTION ; his character, 40 ; refuses to see Torne and Blanchet, 41 ; 
 sends them an order for the liberation of the internuncio ; Petion's 
 perfidy, 41. 
 
 PiERRACCHi ; assists the internuncio in negotiating with the Directory 
 for a concordat, 216. 
 
 Pius VI. ; patronizes the Abbe de Salamon, xix ; appoints him au- 
 ditor of the Rota and dean, 6 ; names him internuncio to Louis 
 XVI., 5, 6 ; writes to the internuncio. 111 ; appoints him Vicar 
 Apostolic, 112 ; sends 3000 francs to Blanchet, 112 ; why he calls 
 him his "little Jacobin," 196 ; forwards the briefs against the Con- 
 stitution of the Clergy, 214 ; the Pope and the Directory, 216 et 
 seq.; consents to armistice, but intends to break it, 217 ; breaks the 
 armistice, 220 ; regrets not having taken de Salamon's advice, 221. 
 
 Pius VII. ; confirms the internuncio's powers, 112 ; refuses to acknowl- 
 edge him as Auditor, xxxv ; de Salamon attacks him in two let- 
 ters, XXXV ; appoints de Salamon bishop of Bellay, xxxv; and of 
 Saint-Flour, xxxvi. 
 
 PiGNATELLi, General ; one of the generals sent to arrest de Salamon, 
 318. 
 
 PoRTAiL, Doctor; his friendship for the ex-abbe, 154; learns he is in 
 love with daughter, and discards him, 154. 
 
 PouLTiER, ex-raonk and journalist ; attacks de Salamon in the Ami 
 des lois, 244 ; anecdote of (see note), 244. 
 
 Pradt, Mgr. de ; attacks the internuncio in his " Histoire des Quatre 
 Concordats," xxxiii; sneers at the honors paid him, xxxiv; accuses 
 him of insulting Pope Pius VII., xxxv (note). 
 
 Protest of the Parliament, 304-305 ; discovery of the, 303-304. 
 
 QuARANTOTTi ; auditor of the nunciature, ordered to send the archives 
 of the nunciature to de Salamon's residence, 6. 
 
 Racin ; takes de Salamon's message to Mme. Colin, 224. 
 Reus, Prince de ; learns that Naples has made peace with the Direc- 
 tory, 218 ; informs the internuncio of the treaty, 219. 
 
INDEX. 888 
 
 RivEiLLON ; description of the attack on his house by de Salamon, 
 297, 298. 
 
 Richard, jailer of the Conciergerie, 249 ; tragic death of his wife, 251 ; 
 his servant, 251 ; her anecdotes of Marie Antoinette and others, 251 
 et seq. ; he tells de Salamon stories of the ingenuity of prisoners, 
 253 ; his granddaughter, who saved President Angrau, 262 ; he 
 relates numerous anecdotes of the queen, the Duke of Orleans, 
 Madame Elizabeth, and others, 262 et seq. 
 
 Robert, president of the Commune ; signs the decree releasing the 
 internuncio, 110. 
 
 Robespierre, fall of, 197. 
 
 RocuEBRUNE, Abb4 de; his administration of the diocese of Saint- 
 Flour, xxxvi. 
 
 Rohan, Cardinal de ; defended by de Salamon, 6 ; incidents in the 
 affair of the diamond necklace, 293, 294. 
 
 RosAMBO, de, president of the Chambre des Vacations ; his character, 
 118 ; his connection with the protest of the Parliament, 128, 129. 
 803, 304 ; betrayed by his servant, and arrested, 129. 
 
 RovfeBE, de ; the internuncio writes to him, 104. 
 
 RoYER, cur^ of Saint-Jean-en-Greve ; the internuncio's fellow-pris- 
 oner, 19 ; saintly but jovial, 21 ; his gayety keeps up the spirits of 
 the prisoners, 25 ; exhorts his companions, 54 ; gives them abso- 
 lution in articulo mortis, 56 ; is brought before the assassins, 71 ; 
 not having taken the oath to the civil constitution of the clergy, he 
 is condemned to death : his assassination, 73, 74 ; the Abbe Sicard's 
 account of his death, 300 ; the Abbe Godard's account of his death, 
 301, 302. 
 
 RuFFO, the two Cardinals: their gratitude to de Salamon, 313. 
 
 Saint-Palais, Clement de ; the internuncio refuses to speak to him 
 because he is a commandant in the National Guards, 41, 42. 
 
 Salamon, Ange-Marie-Alphonse ; a nephew of the internuncio ; he pre- 
 sents his portrait to the Musee Calvet, xx. 
 
 Salamon, Alphonse, Baron de ; mayor of Montelimar at the outbreak 
 of the Revolution ; imprisoned during the Terror ; saved by the 
 death of Robespierre ; mayor of Lyons ; his stormy career, xvii. 
 
 Salamon, Mgr. (Louis-Sifferin) ; his birth, xvii; his education at 
 Carpentras and Lyons, xviii ; studies law and theology at Avignon, 
 xviii ; patronized by Pius VI., xix ; purchases the office of cleri- 
 cal councillor in the Parliament of Paris, xxi ; his defence of Car- 
 dinal de Rohan, 6, 293, 294 ; describes the excitement in the Prov- 
 inces in 1788, 295 ; his indignation at the support given to the 
 edict in favor of the Protestants by some of the bishops and clergy. 
 
334 INDEX. 
 
 296 ; his account of the workmen's attack on Reveillon, 297-298 ; is 
 appointed internuncio, 6 ; arrested, 13 ; brought before the Com- 
 mittee of Surveillance, 15 ; his reception by Marat, who had at- 
 tempted to poison him, 16 ; his imprisonment in the Mairie : de- 
 scribes his fellow-prisoners and their terrible sufferings, 18 et seq. 
 does not neglect his hair, 20 ; his interview with Blanchet, 20 ; 
 shares his meals with the starving priest, 22 et seq. ; is amazed at 
 the hopefulness of his companions, 27 ; the bishops in the Carmes 
 send him a messenger, 28 ; is it lawful to take the oath of liberty 
 and equality ? 29 ; the internuncio's answer, 29-31 ; transferred to 
 the Abbaye, 36 ; meets an old schoolmate, 37 ; his reception by the 
 other prisoners, and his strange bedfellow, 38 ; sends Blanchet to 
 Tome, the constitutional bishop and Jacobin, 39 ; Petion sends an 
 order for the internuncio's release, 41 ; the casuistry of the internun- 
 cio, 42 ; his new prison, 44 ; the 2d of September, 45 ; the prison- 
 ers dine merrily — "How gay they are ! " 49 ; the jailor's interrup- 
 tion : '* The people are marching on the prisons ! " 50; the internun- 
 cio's religious coldness, 55 ; his confession interrupted, 56 ; the mob 
 in the Abbaye, 56 ; the absolution in articulo mortis, 56 ; why the 
 perruquier was arrested, 58 ; honesty his only crime, 59 ; sadness 
 changed to joy : Petion coming with the national guards, 59 ; the 
 jailor's wine and the revelry of the prisoners, 60 ; Petion not com- 
 ing : despair, 61 ; the doors assaulted, 64 ; attempt of the internun- 
 cio and others to escape, 65 ; he is conducted with the other prisoners 
 to the tribunal, 70 ; describes the massacre of his companions, 73 
 et seq. ; his mental and physical condition, 76, 77 ; "What should 
 I do to avoid the question about the oath ? " 77 ; a deputation from 
 the Marseillais asks the release of two prisoners, 79 ; immense suc- 
 cess of the internuncio as a Jacobin orator, 80, 81 ; the two prisoners 
 sent for in consequence, 82 ; horrible massacre of two boys : their 
 heroism, 81, 82 ; it restores his piety, 82, 83 ; a wearisome hunch- 
 back, 86 ; the internuncio prevented from escaping by him, 88 ; 
 examined by Maillard and sent into the violon, 88-90 ; sends a 
 message by the hunchback to Blanchet, 92 ; Sergent interests him- 
 self in his favor, 99 ; he is conducted before the Civil Committee, 
 100 ; acquitted, but advised to spend another night in prison, 103 ; 
 the mob attacks the violon, 105 ; driven back by the National 
 Guard, 106 ; the internuncio's contempt for the Abbe Sicard, 107 ; 
 his release, 109 ; is appointed vicar apostolic of France, 110 ; a re- 
 trospect : the Chambre des Vacations, 118 ; de Salamon a member 
 of it, 118 ; he resists Bailly and the Commune of Paris, 120 ; he 
 settles the troubles among the quarrymen of Montmartre, 122 et 
 seq. ; signs the protest of the Parliament, 128, 304 ; the section of 
 Bondy tries to seize him, 130 ; he is warned not to enter his house, 
 131 ; is sheltered by Madame Dellebart, 131 ; calls at the houses of 
 
INDEX. 886 
 
 his colleagues : they are arrested or under surveillance, 132, 134 ; he 
 remains with Madame Dellebart : their conversations, 139-40; 
 Blanchet arrested and his house plundered, 141 ; receives letters 
 and dispensations from Rome, 148 ; an alarm at Madame Delle- 
 bart' s, 150 ; de Salamon leaves, 151 ; his deplorable compatriot, 
 ex-Abb^ Rouvi^re, 151 et seq. ; his interview with a tearful Jacobin, 
 157, 158 ; he leaves Paris, 159 ; some startling adventures in the sub- 
 urbs, 159, 160 ; sleeps in the Bois de Boulogne, but returns to Paris 
 in the morning, 160 ; an ingenious plan for leaving the city, 162 ; 
 meets priests in the woods and forms a council, 163, 164 ; the decree 
 against the nobles, 165 ; nights in the open air, 167 et seq. ; an old 
 maid, pious and ugly, 169 ; he obtains a lodging with Madame 
 Gi-andin, 171 ; a shrewish mother and an angelic daughter, 174 et 
 seq. ; an alarm, 178 ; a search for Marianne, 180, 181 ; money at last, 
 182; Grandin wants to present him to the Commune, 182 ; Mile. 
 Girai-d intervenes, 183 ; a terrible adventure, 188, 189 ; a thunder- 
 bolt : *' They are all dead ! " 190 ; a strange adventure in the for- 
 est with two fugitive ladies, 191 et seq. ; letters from Rome, 195» 
 196 ; learns of Blanchet's release, 198 ; visits Boui*don de I'Oise, 201 ; 
 who obtains from the Committee a decree in his favor, 203 ; nego- 
 tiating a concordat with the Directory, 216 ; learns that Naples has 
 made a secret treaty with the Directory, 218, 219 ; despatches a cour- 
 ier to Rome, who is arrested, 219, 220 ; his advice to the Pope neg- 
 lected, 221 ; arrested for conspiracy, 222, 223 ; in a horrible dungeon, 
 224 et seq. ; visited by Madame Colin, 226 et seq. ; conducted to 
 his house in Passy, 228, 229 ; back to his dungeon, 230 ; a horrible 
 adventure : alone with an assassin, 230, 231 ; a singular magistrate, 
 233 et seq. ; brought before a court, 237, 238 ; transferred to the 
 Grande Force, 239 ; in a cell with two convicts, 240 ; at the end of 
 five weeks a singular visitor, 241 ; learns that death is the penalty, 
 
 242 ; sent to the infirmary, and delighted with his new quarters, 
 
 243 ; meets many curious characters, 245 et seq. ; in the Concier- 
 gerie, 249 ; meets a friendly jailor, 250 ; hears many new anecdotes 
 of Marie Antoinette, the Princess Elizabeth, and the Duke of Or- 
 leans, 251 et seq. ; before the Criminal Tribunal, 257 ; his eloquent 
 protest against quashing the indictment, 258-259 ; " the little man 
 with the brown face," 260, 261 ; receives another list of jurors, 265; 
 a new adjournment proposed, 266 ; de Salamon's speech in reply, 
 266-268 ; saved by Richard from the consequences of his rashness, 
 
 269 ; worse jurors than ever, 280 ; Richard's successful stratagem, 
 
 270 et seq. ; a placable usher, 271 ; a new indictment, 278 ; de 
 Salamon's address to the court, 279-280 ; his examination, 281-286 ; 
 last hours at the Conciergerie, 287 et seq. ; acquitted, 290 ; appoint- 
 ed administrator of the diocese of Normandy in 1801, 291 ; his let- 
 ters to Cardinal Zelada, 293-297 ; titular bishop, xxxiv ; appointed 
 
336 INDEX. 
 
 Auditor at Rome by Louis XVIII., but rejected by Pius VII., xxxvii; 
 his ostentatious establishment in Rome, 316 ; bishop of Saint-Flour, 
 xxxvi J his benefactions to his diocese, xxxvii, xxxviii ; his death, 
 xl. 
 
 Saron, Bochart de, first president; disagrees with de Salamon, 123; 
 signs the protest of the Parliament, 128 ; arrested, 129 ; conducted 
 to La Force, 133. 
 
 S^CHELLES ; see Herault, de. 
 
 S^GUE, Comte de ; Madame de Villeneuve's father, see note, xiv. 
 
 Senozan, Mme. de, sister of Malesherbes ; is under surveillance ; is 
 visited by de Salamon, 146 ; tells him that all her relations are in 
 the prison of Port Libre, 147. 
 
 Sergent ; Blanchet and tlie women of the quarter beg him to save the 
 internuncio, 98 ; he promises to do so, 98, 99. 
 
 SiCARD, Abbe ; meets the internuncio at the Mairie, 19 ; saved by 
 Monotte, 33 ; with the internuncio in the violon, 93 et seq. ; his 
 letter to the Assembly, 107 ; his release, 110 ; extracts from his 
 memoirs, 299-301. 
 
 Simon, Abbe, (brother of the following); in the Mairie, 31 ; taken to 
 the Abbaye, 84 ; declares he has taken the oath of liberty and 
 equality, 84 ; he is the first of the prisoners to escape death, 85. 
 
 Simon, Canon of Saint-Quentin ; goes to the Mairie to see his brother, 
 and is ordered to remain in the prison, 31 ; conducted to the Ab- 
 baye and massacred, 79. 
 
 SoLi;]iAC, Chevalier de ; his pardon asked for by the Marseillais, 79 ; 
 the intei'uuncio speaks to the assassins in his favor, and he is ac- 
 quitted, 80-82; his release, 110. 
 
 Soyecourt, Mme. de, nee Princesse de Nassau- Sarrebruck ; treats 
 Blanchet haughtily in prison, 145 ; her indebtedness to Blanchet's 
 master, 145. 
 
 SuLX, Duchesse de ; requested by de Salamon to visit Blanchet, 149; 
 frequently visits the prison in disguise, 149. 
 
 Talleyrand-Perigord, Cardinal de ; receives two violent letters from 
 
 de Salamon concerning Pius VII., xxxv. 
 Tallien, secretary of the Commune ; signs the decree in favor of the 
 
 internuncio's release, 110. 
 ToLOSAN, General de ; substituted on de Salamon's list of jurors, 272 ; 
 
 works earnestly for his acquittal, 290. 
 ToRN^, Abbe, 39 ; a bad man, but under obligations to the internuncio, 
 
 40 ; determines to save him, and visits Petion, 41 ; receives a letter 
 
 from the internuncio, 104 ; compelled by Blanchet to go at once, 
 
 and save him, 108, 109 ; procures his release, 109 ; entertains him 
 
 in his hotel, 110. 
 
INDEX. 887 
 
 Tripikr, AbW de ; assists de S&lamon in founding the academy at 
 Saiut-Flour, xzxviii. 
 
 VioiEB, ez-attorney to the Parliament ; visits Grohier in de Salomon's 
 interest, 273 ; Gohier's reply, 278. 
 
 ViLLKNKUVE-SfiouB, de, a daughter of Comte de S6gur, xiv (note); 
 the internuncio relates his adventures to her, xv ; she persuades 
 him to write them, xv ; gives her word that the manuscript shall 
 not leave her hands, xv ; date of the composition of the Memoirs, 
 and death of Madame de Villeneuve, xvi. 
 
 ViTAU, Abb^ ; a schoolmate of the internuncio, 37 ; they meet in 
 the Abbaye, 87 ; his massacre, 48. 
 
 YouNO Minim Monks, the two; denounced and imprisoned in the 
 Abbaye, 58 ; massacred, 77-78. 
 
 Zblada, Cardinal ; his letters to the internuncio, 112, 195; the inter- 
 nuncio's letters to him, 293-297. 
 
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