Knight of Maison-Rouge

by Alexandre Dumas

  “Ah! That’s something else,” said Lorin.

  He gave Maurice his hand.

  “Now,” he said, leaning to whisper in Maurice’s ear, “they didn’t search me, you know, because I told them I was in Monsieur Sanson’s party when I came back in, so I still have the knife—if the guillotine is repugnant to you.”

  Maurice grabbed the weapon with glee.

  “No,” he said, “it would hurt her too much.”

  He handed the knife back to Lorin.

  “You’re right,” said Lorin. “Long live the machine of Monsieur Guillotine!1 What is the machine of Monsieur Guillotine? One nick to the neck, as Danton said. What’s a nick?”

  With that, Lorin threw the knife into the group of condemned. One of them grabbed it, rammed it into his chest and instantly fell down dead.

  At the same moment, Geneviève made a move and gave out a cry. Sanson had placed his hand on her shoulder.

  56

  LONG LIVE SIMON!

  Hearing Geneviève shriek, Maurice realized the battle was about to begin.

  Love can lift the soul to heroic heights; love can defy natural instinct and propel a human being to desire death; but it does not extinguish in that being the fear of pain. It was clear that Geneviève accepted death more patiently and more religiously from the moment Maurice was going to die with her. But resignation does not exclude suffering, and leaving this world means not only hurtling into that abyss we call the unknown but suffering on the way down.

  Maurice glanced around and in his mind embraced it all, and all that was to follow.

  In the middle of the room was a body from whose chest a gendarme had rushed to extract the knife, for fear that it would serve others. Surrounding him, men dumb with despair scarcely paid him any attention; they were busy scribbling disjointed words in pencil on a wallet, or shaking each other’s hands; some were repeating a cherished name over and over again, without respite, like mad people do, or bathing a portrait, a ring, or a lock of hair in tears; others were spitting out furious curses against tyranny, that banal property everyone always likes to curse—even, at times, tyrants themselves.

  Amid all these poor unfortunates, Sanson, weighed down less by his fifty-four years than by the gravity of his lugubrious office; Sanson, as gentle, as consoling as his mission allowed him to be, gave this one advice, that one sad encouragement, and found Christian words to respond to despair as much as to bravado!

  “Citizeness,” he said to Geneviève, “we’ll have to take off your fichu and put your hair up or cut it off, if you don’t mind.”

  Geneviève started trembling uncontrollably.

  “Come, my friend,” said Lorin gently, “have courage.”

  “May I put her hair up myself?” Maurice asked.

  “Oh yes!” cried Geneviève. “Let him do it, I beg you, Monsieur Sanson.”

  “Go ahead,” said the old man, turning his head the other way.

  Maurice undid his cravat, which was dripping wet with the heat of his neck; Geneviève kissed it and placed herself on her knees before him, offering him her lovely head, more beautiful in pain than it had ever been in her joy.

  When Maurice had finished the doleful operation, his hands were trembling so hard, there was so much pain in the expression on his face, that Geneviève cried out:

  “Oh! I have courage, Maurice!”

  Sanson turned back.

  “Don’t I, monsieur, don’t I have courage?” she said.

  “Certainly, citizeness,” replied the executioner in a moved voice. “Real courage.”

  Meanwhile, the first assistant had run through the list sent by Fouquier-Tinville.

  “Fourteen,” he said.

  Sanson counted the condemned.

  “Fifteen, including the dead man,” he said. “How can that be?”

  Lorin and Geneviève counted after him, stirred by the same thought.

  “You say there are only fourteen condemned and yet we are fifteen?” she said.

  “Yes, citizen Fouquier-Tinville must have made a mistake.”

  “Oh!” said Geneviève to Maurice. “You lied! You weren’t condemned.”

  “Why should I wait till tomorrow when you are dying today?” Maurice replied.

  “My friend,” she said smiling, “you reassure me: I see now how easy it is to die.”

  “Lorin,” said Maurice, “Lorin, for the last time … No one recognizes you here.… Say you came to say good-bye.… Say you got locked in by mistake. Call the gendarme who saw you leave.… I’ll be the real condemned man, I who have to die; but you, we beg you, friend, do us the joy of living to keep our memory alive. There’s still time, Lorin, we beseech you!”

  Geneviève joined her hands together in sign of prayer. Lorin took those hands and kissed them.

  “I said no, and I meant no,” he said in a firm voice. “Not another word about it or you’ll make me feel I’m in the way.”

  “Fourteen,” Sanson repeated. “And there are fifteen of ‘em!” Raising his voice, he went on, “Let’s see, is there someone with a special claim? Is there someone who can prove they’re here by mistake?”

  Perhaps a few mouths opened at this question, but they closed again without uttering a word. Those who would have lied were ashamed of lying; the man who would not have lied did not wish to speak. There was a silence that lasted several minutes, during which the assistants went about their mournful business.

  “Citizens, we are ready,” came the flat and solemn voice of old Sanson finally.

  A few sobs and a few groans greeted him.

  “Well then,” said Lorin, “so be it!

  “Let’s die for the Nation,

  It’s the finest fate!…

  “Yes, when you die for the nation; but, really, I’m beginning to think we’re only dying for the pleasure of those watching us die. Good Lord, Maurice, I’m coming round to your opinion, I’m also beginning to be disgusted by the Republic.”

  “Order!” barked a commissioner at the door.

  Several gendarmes came into the room and thus sealed off the exits, placing themselves between the condemned and life, as though to prevent them from returning to it.

  The call was sounded.

  Maurice, who had seen the man who killed himself with Lorin’s knife judged, answered when his name was called. So it transpired that only the dead man was de trop. He was ferried out of the room. If they’d managed to find his identity, if they’d managed to recognize him as having been condemned, dead as he was, he’d have been guillotined along with the rest.

  The survivors were pushed toward the main exit. As each person came up to the wicket, his hands were tied behind his back. Not a word was spoken between the sorry souls for ten minutes. Only the butchers spoke and acted.

  Maurice, Geneviève, and Lorin couldn’t hold out any longer and pressed together so as not to be separated. Then the condemned were pushed out of the Conciergerie and into the courtyard. There the spectacle became alarming.

  Several condemned faltered at the sight of the carts and had to be helped up by the clerks.

  The gates of the Conciergerie were still shut; behind them you could hear the muffled voice of that great animal, the crowd, and you could tell by the volume of noise that the crowd was vast.

  Geneviève climbed up onto a cart with alacrity, with a little help from Maurice, who had hold of her elbow, and Maurice hoisted himself up behind her. Lorin took his time, selecting his seat—on Maurice’s left.

  The gates opened: in the front row was Simon. The two friends saw him straightaway; he saw them. He stood up on a boundary stone close to where the carts had to pass; there were three of them. The first cart rattled on its way. This was the one the three friends were in.

  “Hey! Good day, beau grenadier!” Simon called out to Lorin. “You’re going to try out my blade, it looks like?”

  “Yes,” said Lorin, “and I’ll try not to make it too blunt so it’s still sharp enough to cut through your thick hide w
hen it comes your turn.”

  The other two carts rattled away behind the first. An appalling storm of cries, bravos, groans, curses exploded around the condemned. “Courage, Geneviève, courage!” murmured Maurice.

  “Oh!” she answered. “I don’t regret life, since I’ll be dying with you. I regret only that I don’t have my hands free to hold you in my arms before I die.”

  “Lorin,” Maurice said, “Lorin, root around in my coat pocket, will you; you’ll find a penknife there.”

  “Oh, thank Christ!” said Lorin. “I could do with a penknife! I was somewhat humiliated at having to go to my death trussed up like a baby calf.”

  Maurice brought his pocket down to the level of his friend’s hands; Lorin took the penknife and together they managed to get it open. Then Maurice took it in his teeth and cut the ropes tying Lorin’s hands. Lorin did the same for Maurice as soon as his hands were free.

  “Hurry up!” said Lorin. “Geneviève has fainted.”

  Indeed, to accomplish the rope operation, Maurice had turned his back for a moment from poor Geneviève, and as though all her strength came from him, she simply closed her eyes and dropped her head to her chest.

  “Geneviève,” called Maurice. “Geneviève, open your eyes, my darling; we only have a few minutes left to see each other in this world.”

  “The ropes are hurting me,” she murmured.

  Maurice untied her. Instantly she opened her eyes and sprang to her feet, galvanized by an exaltation that made her resplendently beautiful.

  She wrapped one arm around Maurice’s neck, seized Lorin’s hand with the other, and all three, standing tall in the cart, with the other victims at their feet shrouded in the stupor of anticipated death, launched a greeting and a look of gratitude to the heavens, which allowed them to freely prop one another up.

  The people who had insulted them when they were seated shut up when they saw them on their feet.

  The scaffold came into view.

  Maurice and Lorin saw it. Geneviève did not, she was looking only at her lover.

  The cart pulled up.

  “I love you,” Maurice said to Geneviève. “I love you!”

  “The woman first, the woman before the rest!” cried a thousand voices.

  “Thank you, people,” said Maurice. “Who said that you were cruel?”

  He took Geneviève in his arms and their lips pressed together; he carried her and placed her in Sanson’s arms.

  “Courage,” said Lorin. “Courage!”

  “I have,” replied Geneviève. “I have!”

  “I love you!” murmured Maurice. “I love you!”

  It was no longer a matter of victims having their throats cut; this was friends turning death into rejoicing.

  “Adieu!” Geneviève cried to Lorin.

  “Au revoir!” Lorin cried back.

  Geneviève disappeared under the fatal blade.

  “Your turn!” said Lorin.

  “Your turn!” said Maurice.

  “Listen. She’s calling you.”

  Indeed, Geneviève gave out her last cry.

  “Come,” she beckoned.

  A great roar riffled through the crowd. The beautiful, graceful head had fallen.

  Maurice rushed forward.

  “Wait a moment,” Lorin was saying. “Let’s stick to logic. Do you hear me, Maurice?”

  “Yes.”

  “She loved you, they killed her first; you aren’t condemned, you die second; me, I did nothing, and as I’m the biggest criminal of all three, I go last.

  “That’s how everything is explained

  With the logic of the brain.

  “Sorry, citizen Sanson, I promised you a quatrain but you’ll have to make do with a distich.”

  “I loved you!” murmured Maurice, tied to the fatal block and smiling at his lover’s head. “I lov …”

  The steel blade truncated the rest of the word.

  “My turn!” cried Lorin, bounding up to the scaffold. “And be quick about it! For I truly am losing my head.… Citizen Sanson, I robbed you of two lines; but I’m offering you a pun instead.”

  Sanson tied him up in turn.

  “Let’s see,” said Lorin. “It’s the done thing to call out ‘Long Live’ something or other when you die. Once upon a time they used to cry ‘Long Live the King!’ but there is no more king. After that, they cried ‘Long Live Liberty!’ but there is no more liberty. Why not ‘Long Live Simon,’ who has joined all three of us together.”

  With that the head of the generous young man fell next to the heads of Maurice and Geneviève!

  NOTES

  1. THE RECRUITS

  1. death of Louis XVI: The execution of the deposed king took place on January 23, 1793.

  2. France cut its ties: The execution of Louis XVI led most of Europe’s monarchies—under the leadership of Pitt’s England (see note 6, p. 402)—to declare war on the new French Republic.

  3. enemies it had already defeated: The Revolutionary armies had won great victories over the Prussians and Austrians in late 1792.

  4. Austro-Hungarian Empire: The Holy Roman Empire, which had by the end of the eighteenth century become virtually synonymous with Austria and the domains of the Hapsburg family.

  5. watching Catherine II tear up Poland: Catherine the Great of Russia, along with Prussia and Austria, carved up and claimed Polish territory three times in the late eighteenth century, the final partition taking place in 1796.

  6. September massacres: Violent mobs invaded the prisons of Paris in early September 1792 and murdered thousands of prisoners.

  7. Maczinski … Dampierre: All of these generals served with varying degrees of success in the Revolutionary and Imperalist armies. Of particular interest is Francisco de Miranda (1750–1816), a Venezuelan patriot who joined his Revolutionary brothers in France before returning to fight for independence alongside Simón Bolívar. He was captured by the Spanish and died in prison in 1816.

  8. the Convention: unicameral legislature that governed France after the final collapse of the Monarchy in August 1792. See also Glossary, p. 418.

  9. Dumouriez: Charles-François du Périer Dumouriez (1739–1823) was an aristocratic officer and diplomat who joined the Revolutionary cause as a successful general under the Convention. See also Glossary, p. 419.

  10. Danton: Georges-Jacques Danton (1759–94), celebrated orator, influential member of the Convention and the Committee of Public Safety, also Minister of Justice. Dumas is referring to Danton’s call for a massive levee of troops to face encroaching foreign armies. See also Glossary, p. 418.

  11. sections: the administrative divisions of Paris instituted by the Revolutionary government.

  12. Girondins … Montagnards: The Girondins were the moderate republicans of the National Assembly who came to dominate the Convention after the fall of the Monarchy. They were eclipsed by the more radical faction known as the Montagnards in 1793. The Montagnards, taking their name from the high seat where they grouped in the national assemblies, were the radicals of the Revolution.

  13. Jacobins: a political club that became increasingly radical as the Revolution progressed; the most famous member was Robespierre. See also Glossary, p. 420.

  14. mayor of Paris: Jean-Nicolas Pache (1746–1823) began as a Girondin then allied himself with the Montagnards, as the latter group became more powerful. His new friends made him mayor of Paris, in which position he helped carry out the purge of May 31–June 2 that left the Montagnards firmly in control of the Convention.

  15. Commune: the governing body of Paris under the Revolution, the Commune in 1793 was under the influence of Jacques-René Hébert (1757–94), then an ally of the Jacobins before he judged them too moderate.

  16. Robert Lindet: Robert Lindet (1796–1825), member of the Convention and of the Committee of Public Safety, wrote the indictment of “Louis Capet,” as the king was called by Revolutionaries.

  17. Féroud: a backbencher of the Convention.

&nbs
p; 18. Collot d’Herbois: an extremist and member of the infamous Committee of Public Safety. He eventually turned on Robespierre.

  19. Cordeliers: a radical political club founded by Danton in 1791. Other prominent members were Hébert and Marat. See also Glossary, p. 418.

  20. Louvet:Jean-Baptiste Louvet de Couvray (1760–97) was a leader of the Girondin who had denounced Robespierre as early as November 1792.

  21. the Temple: The fourteenth-century headquarters of the Knights Templar became a prison for the Royal family after the coup of August 10, 1792.

  22. citizeness: Revolutionary egalitarianism and civic spirit demanded that the terms madame and monsieur be replaced by citizeness and citizen. As the reader will note, such political jargon was taken very seriously, especially under the Terror; a lapse in political correctness could be dangerous, even lethal.

  23. ci-devant: this adjective, meaning “former,” became almost exclusively associated with officially abolished aristocracy. It came to be used as a noun.

  24. Palais-Egalité: the rebaptized Palais-Royal, the Paris residence of the Orléans family. The last duke of the Old Régime joined the Revolution with fervor, taking the name Philippe-Egalité and, as a member of the Convention, voting for the execution of his cousin Louis XVI, before going to the guillotine himself.

  25. National Guard: this corps was formed as a citizens’ militia in 1789; the National Guard was a frequent actor in the violent politics of Paris, usually siding with the populace against Royalist forces. See also Glossary, p. 421.

  26. carmagnole: the short, close-fitting jacket favored by revolutionaries.

  27. tenth of August: on this day in 1792, riots in Paris drove the Royal family from the Tuileries Palace to seek the protection of the National Assembly. The abdication of Louis XVI and the collapse of the monarchy soon followed. A republican government was established on September 21.

  28. Frères et Amis section: the name of Maurice’s section—literally “brothers and friends”—reflects the fraternité of the Revolution.