Mistress of the Revolution (54 page)

“It seems so, although I will know more tomorrow. He must have liked you.” He laughed and bent to kiss my cheek. “Who could resist you?”

Before taking me to my new lodgings, Pierre-André provided me with a residence certificate in the name of Jeanne-Françoise Dunoyer, which had been his mother’s maiden name. He also gave me a duplicate key to his own lodgings and showed me a cache in the floor of his bedroom, where he kept rolls of gold coins and a portfolio full of
assignats
.

“You never know what may happen,” he said. “Do not hesitate to come here in case of an emergency.”

LANGTON COURT, THIS 12TH OF JUNE 1815

I hold in the palm of my hand a man’s gold watch, engraved with the initials
P. A. C.
and the motto
Vivre libre ou mourir
, “Liberty or death.” It stopped at twenty past eleven on a rainy summer day over twenty years ago. I have never rewound it. I am also looking at the fine black and white antique cameo you have always seen on my right hand. This ring I will keep till my last breath, but the watch should go to you. I will find a way to give it to you in the course of this day. Oh, Edmond, I have now reached the part of my narrative I do not want to write. Those who say that time dulls the pain of bereavement know nothing of sorrow. I had the maids light a great fire in spite of the season, but no matter how close I stay to it, I am shivering. Tears blind me. Yet for your sake I must find the courage to continue. God, as always, will lend me strength.

I settled in my new lodgings on Rue du Bourg-Tibourg, which were more spacious and better appointed than the previous ones. Pierre-André, as promised, now visited me every night. After the disaster at the
Théâtre du Marais
, it was out of the question for me to seek another place. Aimée and I resumed our daily walks to the Luxembourg. The following weeks saw the eradication of potatoes and the reappearance of flowers and lawns.

“It’s the same thing in all public gardens now that Chaumette and Hébert are gone,” said our friend the guard. “And there’s no more talk of cutting the trees. Citizen Payan’s in charge now. You should see what they’re doing at the Tuileries. It’s beautiful. That’s where they’ll celebrate the Festival of the Supreme Being.”

On a beautiful spring day, Robespierre led a procession of all the members of the National Convention to solemnly set fire to a colossal cardboard allegory of Atheism. The same morning, a declaration stating that “the French people recognize the Supreme Being and the immortality of the soul” had been posted all over town. The entire choir of the Opera, eight hundred strong, sang hymns to the glory of the Supreme Being. Tens of thousands of Parisians watched Atheism go up in flames. I decided not to join the crowd and was content to hear the account of the festivities given by Pierre-André, who attended as part of his official functions.

Two days later, Couthon, Robespierre’s most trusted ally within the Committee of Public Salvation, introduced before the National Convention what would become known as the Law of the 22nd of Prairial. That bill completely reformed the procedure followed before the Revolutionary Tribunal. Indeed it became much harsher. Dumas and Pierre-André were again appointed by the National Convention to preside over the two sections of the Tribunal. That time would be known as the
Grande Terreur
, the “Great Terreur.” For the first time the Tribunal would sentence more defendants to death than it acquitted.

Madame Elisabeth followed her brother and sister-in-law, the King and Queen, to the guillotine. She was tried before Dumas for sending her diamonds to her brothers in exile to support the armies of the émigrés. Pierre-André told me that Robespierre had attempted to save her, but that influential members of the Committee of General Safety, in charge of the police, had insisted on the execution of all adult members of the Bourbon family.

A few weeks later, Pierre-André handed me a sheet of paper.

“What is it?” I asked.

“A passport for a Jeanne-Françoise Dunoyer, widow, and her daughter. It is authentic. Those are the actual signatures of two members of the Committee of General Safety. You have nothing to fear by using it.”

I stared at the document. “What do you want me to do with it?”

“It might save your life if you had to leave Paris.”

I shook my head. “Thank you, but I will not leave. Not without you.”

“You know that my functions require my presence here.”

“What are you hiding from me? Do you want us to be separated?”

He put his arm around my shoulders. “Of course not, my love,” he said, “but one thing matters more to me than your company. It is your safety.”

“Have you reason to think that I am not safe in Paris?”

“Strange things have been happening.”

“What strange things? The Royalists have been defeated in Vendée. The armies of the Republic are victorious in the Netherlands. The Austrians have been routed.”

“Thanks to the Tribunal. There is nothing like the fear of the guillotine to refresh the zeal of those generals and remind them of the expediency of winning battles. The same is true of army contractors. We keep them honest.” He paused, staring in front of him. “But Paris is restless. I know this town, Gabrielle, I can feel its pulse. For one thing, the situation is out of control at the Tribunal. Since the Law of the 22nd of Prairial, defense attorneys are no longer required. Defendants can now be convicted upon the basis of written evidence without witnesses being heard. Moreover, the questioning of the accused by a judge before trial, which led to many dismissals, has been eliminated. This means that all cases come to trial. And we lost our discretion in sentencing: we must send to the guillotine any defendant found guilty by the jury. We would need ten times as many judges, clerks and jurors to handle the caseload these days.”

“But why is this happening at this time, when the situation is improving?”

“Robespierre has decided to empty the prisons before the year is over. It is laudable, of course, when you consider the number of conspirators, spies,
émigrés,
royalists and like scoundrels housed there. Yet, with less judges than before, we cannot keep pace with the number of defendants. Herman, who is now in charge of the prisons, wanted to send me one hundred and fifty per day. Fouquier even proposed to have scaffolding—
scaffolding
—installed in my courtroom to accommodate these numbers.”

He was now pacing the room. “I made it clear,” he continued, “that it was out of the question, regardless of what Dumas might have agreed to. I told Fouquier that I will not let him turn my courtroom into a circus, with the accused perched in midair like monkeys. Finally, he agreed to
limit
the number of defendants to no more than thirty per day, which is already impossible to manage.”

“Why does not Robespierre show more leniency after the victories?”

“We are close to reaching the goals of the Revolution, Gabrielle. Now that we are winning the war against the foreign tyrants, our last obstacle is the existence of the scoundrels who conspire from within against the safety of the Nation. That is why Robespierre wants all of the prisoners tried by the end of the year. The innocents will be acquitted and the rest guillotined. What I do not know is how the Tribunal is going to achieve this goal. The other day, I had the surprise to see a boy of fourteen, a
ci-devant
nobleman, with barely a moustache, among the accused. I added a question for the jurors, reminding them of his age and asking whether he had become an enemy of the people
with discernment
. What do you think? They answered in the affirmative! I could not believe my ears when I heard the guilty verdict. I had to break the law. I sentenced the boy to twenty years in prison. I should have sent him to the guillotine, since now it is the only penalty we may impose. I looked Fouquier’s deputy in the eye while I read the sentence. He kept quiet.”

Pierre-André shook his head in a worried manner. “And Robespierre has been acting in a rather odd manner lately. He barely shows his face at the National Convention anymore. That is where he is vulnerable. He can now count on the loyalty of the Municipality and the Revolutionary Tribunal. I am part of both and do not worry about either. My colleague Dumas behaves in an improper manner on the bench and his jokes are in the worst taste, but at least he is completely trustworthy. The other judges are insignificant. Fouquier, although he receives his orders from the Committee of General Safety, where Robespierre has many enemies, is too busy to take the helm of any movement. It is not in his nature anyway. Yet many scoundrels infest the ranks of the Convention. Some are as corrupt as the late Danton; some are cowards who keep quiet and bide their time. I told Robespierre to begin by sending Carrier, along with all the other Representatives in Mission who are guilty of atrocities, to stand trial before the Tribunal, but he would not listen to me. He wants to wait for the right moment to strike them.”

Pierre-André sighed. “Also, Robespierre has been sick. And he is in love with Eléonore, one of the Duplay girls. You saw her that night when we called on him. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but he needs to bed her. I told him, as a friend and physician, that nothing is more detrimental to a man’s health than continence.
Semen retentum venenum est
. He should marry her if he does not want to make her his concubine. I am sure she would be delighted to have him. I even offered to speak to the girl on his behalf if he were too shy to do it himself. He was horrified by the idea.” Pierre-André shrugged. “Other men always underestimate my powers of persuasion with the fair sex.”

No one except Eléonore Duplay, who is still alive and has never married, knows what happened between herself and Robespierre, but what is sure is that he decided to come out of his isolation. At the end of July 1794, on the 8th of Thermidor, he gave a speech before the National Convention in which he denounced unspecified “scoundrels.” Many Representatives felt targeted. It was almost midnight when Pierre-André, looking concerned, arrived at my lodgings. I was very surprised when he announced that he would not go to the Tribunal the next day but had to see Robespierre instead. He did not volunteer more information nor did I feel free to pry.

A suffocating heat hung over Paris the next day. Around three in the afternoon, I heard in addition to the rumbling of thunder, drums beating and the
tocsin
ringing. The sense of foreboding that enveloped me since the day before became unbearable. I took Aimée by the hand and almost ran with her to the Island of the Fraternity. I opened the door to Pierre-André’s lodgings. Pélagie looked at us with surprise. Barely taking the time to greet her, I opened a chest and took out a change of clothes and linen for Pierre-André. There, between two shirts, I found one of the embroidered garters he had taken from me. I had not time to wonder about what had happened to its twin, but tears came to my eyes as I looked at the blue embroidery and the monogram. I then lifted the carpet in the bedroom and emptied the cache of gold and
assignats
Pierre-André had shown me. I threw the money into a traveling bag, along with his clothes, my garter, razors, some toiletries and a pair of pistols. Pélagie was watching me with uncomprehending eyes.

“Follow me,” I said. “You are in danger.”

She shook her head. I held my hand to her. “Come with me. Citizen Coffinhal would want it.”

I was ready to leave when the face of Pierre-André’s mother caught my eye. I seized a pair of scissors and cut the painting out of its frame. I did the same with my own portrait by Madame Lebrun. I rolled both canvasses, which joined the rest of my loot in the bag. I was done in less than five minutes. I left in haste, dragging Aimée and Pélagie behind me. It was not yet four o’clock in the afternoon of the 9th of Thermidor when I returned to my lodgings.

There I waited for hours, racked by anguish. At last, at three in the morning, I heard a key turn in the lock. I was wide awake and jumped out of bed in an instant. I threw myself into Pierre-André’s arms. He smelled of sweat and of gunpowder. His coat was already wet on the shoulders. It had just begun to rain. He kept me embraced for a long time without speaking.

“I wanted to see you one last time, my poor love,” he said at last, “but I must leave. I have already compromised you enough by coming here. I will go before dawn. Everything is lost.”

“Not if you are alive. You must stay here. You will be safe. I went to your lodgings and took everything you will need.”

He collapsed on the couch. His shoulders were shaken by sobs. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around my waist and cried in my lap. It was the only time I saw him weep. I held his head against my breast. Finally, exhausted, his eyes closed, he let go of me and rested against the back of the couch. I fetched him a glass of wine and sat by his side.

“What happened?” I asked. “Why did you say that all is lost?”

“Robespierre was prevented from speaking yesterday at the National Convention. Tallien, who was presiding, must have been part of a conspiracy with some other former Representatives in Mission, the Carriers, the Fouchés, the Collots. They all began shouting at the same time while Tallien was ringing his bell like a maniac. Couthon, who is usually energetic, just remained seated in his wheelchair and watched the disaster unfold without taking any action. Before you knew it, the Convention had decreed the arrest of Robespierre and his main followers. I would be surprised if I were not included in that measure. I had warned him that the Convention was the viper’s nest where the scoundrels had regrouped. Men like Carrier knew that their days were numbered.”

“Did you not meet with Robespierre yesterday morning?”

“I did. He was concerned about the Tribunal. I agreed to keep an eye all day on Fouquier, whom he particularly distrusts. I asked a common friend, a countryman of ours, to invite Fouquier and me to luncheon. I think I mentioned that man, Vernhes, who lives in the Island of the Fraternity. Around three, in the middle of the meal, we heard drums beating.”

“I heard them too from here.”

“I sent for my sword and tricolour sash and ran to the Common House. There I heard the news of Robespierre’s arrest. Worse, that imbecile Hanriot, who had gone to free him, had managed only to be caught himself. Payan and I, with seven other patriots, formed a provisional Executive Committee to take charge of the affairs of the Nation. Men from all the Sections of Paris had responded to the call of the drums and were gathered in front of the Common House. I harangued them and asked for volunteers to save the Nation in its hour of peril. Over 2,000 men, altogether seventeen companies, armed with twelve cannons, followed me, cheering. I also convinced a detachment of the mounted Gendarmerie to join us. I was riding at the head of a little army, Gabrielle, more than enough to carry the day.”