"I know nothing of a humanity which slaughters nations, and pardons despots; to ask a reprieve is to substitute an appeal to tyrants for the appeal to the people. Foussedoire, Bernardin de Saint-Pierre's substitute, who said,—
"I have a horror of shedding human blood, but the blood of a king is not the blood of a man. Death." Jean-Bon-Saint-André, who said,—
"No free people, unless the tyrant dies." Lavicomterie, who proclaimed this formula,—
"While the tyrant breathes, liberty suffocates. Death." Chateauneuf-Randon, who cried,—
"The death of Louis the Last." Guyardin, who gave utterance to this wish,—
"Let the 'Barrière-Renversée' be executed (the Barrière-Renversée, or overthrown barrier, was the Barrière du Trône). Tellier, who said,—
"Let a cannon of the size of Louis XVI.'s head be forged, to use against the enemy."
And the indulgents: Gentil, who said,—
"I vote for imprisonment. To make a Charles I. is to make a Cromwell." Bancal, who said,—
"Exile. I want to see the first king of the universe condemned to learn a trade in order to earn his living." Albouys, who said,—
"Banishment. Let this living spectre go to wander about thrones." Zangiacomi, who said,—
"Let us keep Capet alive for a scarecrow." Chaillon, who said,—
"Let him live, I would not put to death one whom Rome would canonize."
While these sentences were falling from these stern lips, and one after another became historical, in the tribunes, women wearing low-necked dresses and jewels, holding the list, counted the voices and pricked each vote with a pin.
Wherever tragedy enters in, horror and pity remain.
To see the Convention during any period of its reign was to see the judgment of the last Capet over again; the legend of January 21st seemed mingled with all its proceedings; the dreadful assembly was full of those fatal breaths, which had blown over the old torch of monarchy lighted for eighteen centuries, and had put it out; the decisive trial for all kings in one king was like the
