1831.] a Tale of the Days of Terror. 39 



panions, who thought with me, that the meanest toil in freedom would 

 be preferable to the drudgery of fasting and prayer to which we were 

 subjected. There was one older than ourselves in the convent, and 

 better acquainted with what was passing in the world, who encouraged 

 our awakened ardour for a change of things. He furnished us in secret 

 with the forbidden works of Voltaire, Rousseau, and all whose daring- 

 spirits were gradually arousing our nation to shake off the chains of 

 superstition and despotism under which they had lain benumbed for 

 centuries. I was too young and too ardent to distinguish accurately 

 what was false in these productions ; but their eloquence fascinated my 

 imagination, and I adopted every opinion as a truth which differed the 

 most directly from all the dogmas I had been taught to believe. My 

 own sacrifice to the shrine of my brother's greatness was to me sufficient 

 argument in favour of equality ; and by the time the States General were 

 convened at Versailles, there could not have been found in all France 

 a more violent advocate of the rights of the people than Auguste St. 

 Croix. Many of the clergy under the influence of the Abbe Sieyes, and, 

 from a love of novelty, joined the tiers-clat, when that assumed the name 

 of National Assembly ; but their zeal for liberty was soon annihi- 

 lated by the seizure of the church property, and the suppression of all 

 monastic establishments, on the 13th of February, 1790. It was not 

 thus with myself. I felt like a slave whose chains have been miracu- 

 lously struck off, or a corpse re-awakened into life and bursting from 

 the imprisonment of the grave. 



My father and brother had already fallen sacrifices to the fury of the 

 ancient misused dependants of their house, whilst endeavouring to save 

 their castle in Franche-Compte from plunder and destruction ; and my 

 mother, terrified by their fate, had escaped into Flanders. But my 

 violent republican principles accorded well with the mania of the time ; 

 and though I could not recover my inheritance, I had no want of friends, 

 who supplied my daily necessities, until fortune should reward my 

 exertions in the cause of liberty. I became a member of one of the most 

 violent of the clubs, an intimate with several members of the National 

 Assembly, and a constant attendant on its debates. But amidst all my 



Eolitical enthusiasm, my appetite for pleasure was undiminished ; and at 

 jngth I had none to check me in its indulgence, whilst thousands emu- 

 lated me in the pursuit. Men in those days appeared to live in a con- 

 tinued delirium ; murder was no more to them than the phantom of a 

 dream. Tumults and bloodshed were in the streets one hour, and danc- 

 ing and revelry the next. Even females might be seen tripping smilingly 

 with their gallants to the public walks, in the evening, over the sawdust 

 sprinkled above the moist blood which had flowed from the morning's 

 guillotine. It was like a time of pestilence, when men eagerly plunge 

 into the wildest dissipation to forget the uncertainty of life. But no 

 terror operated with me ; I was young, fearless of death, and looked on 

 the revolution and its horrors as the noblest efforts of human wisdom and 

 magnanimity. I loved pleasure for itself alone. 



It was a lovely summer-evening towards the end of June, when I set 

 off with a party of friends, in pursuit of this delusive deity, to the little 

 village of Anniere, situated below Montmartre, on the opposite si( 7 e of 

 the river Seine. It was the village fete, and even the troubles of the 

 times failed to interrupt these simple festivities of my countrymen. Never 

 shall I forget that evening ; yet why should I say so ? I have forgotten 



