1831.] The Executioner of Paris. 26S 



about ten years old, of remarkable beauty, whose features strongly 

 resembled those of him who held her. The old man was Henri Sanson, 

 the public executioner of Paris ! Having previously adapted my address 

 to one whom I had imaged in my mind as bearing in his traits the repulsive 

 record of his trade, I had to re-order my ideas, and assume a different 

 manner. For, as I contemplated his mild and open countenance, in 

 which manly beauty was not wanting, 1 felt myself bound to acknow- 

 ledge, by a corresponding courtesy of demeanour, the salutations of a man 

 of the world, wholly free from embarrassment or affectation. The in- 

 tention of composing a treatise on the various public punishments 

 adopted at different epochs of French legislation, was offered by me as 

 an apology for the unaccustomed intrusion to Avhich he was subjected. 

 He politely acceded to my request for information, and conducted me to 

 a chamber, containing a large and well-selected library. Here, all the 

 awkwardness I had previously felt, as to discourse with the singular being 

 who stood before me, was at once dismissed ; and the titles of the vari- 

 ous volumes which I examined soon led to free conversation, during 

 which my host displayed great taste and judgment in his observations 

 on the various works I brought under his notice : expressing himself as 

 one would do, who had profited largely by what he had read. It was 

 clear that his books formed his chief society : abandoned by the Avorld, 

 he can here hold converse with the illustrious dead, and can render 

 himself familiar with the sentiments of the good and great, of the pre- 

 sent or a past age, without dread of the expression of that scorn, disgust, 

 and horror that would attend any attempt at personal communication 

 with his fellow-men. Sanson loves to talk, and talks exceedingly well : 

 but, in the whole course of a visit of two hours, which was prolonged by 

 the interest excited in me by this extraordinary person, he forgot not for 

 a moment the distance placed between him and society in general : he 

 shewed that he was fully aware of his situation, and does not affect to 

 despise the feeling it is calculated to produce in others ; but, having 

 made up his mind to sustain it, calls up all his philosophy (for it may 

 well be termed so) to support him in an existence without the pale of 

 social intercourse. Among his books my eye fell on " Le dernier Jour 

 d'ttn Condanme." 



Reverting, however, to the professed object of my visit, he unlocked 

 the door of another chamber, in which the various instruments of ex- 

 treme punishment, formerly used, are yet preserved by him. It is, 

 truly, a fearful museum: and the examination of its contents gave rise 

 to many inquiries on my part, Avhich led to many curious anecdotes 

 which he recounted, particularly as to the last moments of the con- 

 demned. I could not but feel the contrast, of the office of the man with 

 the sensibility he displayed in his narration, and the humanity which he 

 evinced as he adverted to the dreadful circumstances in which he had 

 borne so prominent a part. It is unnecessary to quote them ; but all he 

 related of the suflf'erers, in the hour of death, had something singularly 

 forced, unnatural, and painful. Caslaiiiii; was believed generally to be 

 innocent of the crime for which he was condemned, yet, as Sanson told 

 me, he confessed his guilt upon the scaffold. He shewed me the sabre 

 with which the IMarquis de Lally had been beheaded. It was prepared 

 for the occasion, and three were cast before one could be found likely 

 to answer the purpose. It was usual at that period for young men af 



