exactly perform her ridiculous ball
- From: "Ben H. Regel" <ago@xxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Wed, 7 Nov 2007 07:33:26 GMT
in communication with her husband were abortive. One
day she received the fearful intelligence that her husband had just been
conducted before the revolutionary tribunal. Josephine waited for
further intelligence in an agony of suspense. Had this tribunal
acquitted her husband, or had it condemned him to death? Was he already
free, or was he free in a higher sense--was he dead? If he were free, he
would have found means to inform her of the fact; and if he were dead,
his name would certainly have been mentioned in the list of the
condemned. In this agony of suspense, Josephine passed the long day.
Night came, but brought no rest for her and her companions in
misery--the other occupants of the prison--who also looked death in the
face, and who watched with her throughout the long night.
The society assembled in this prison was brilliant and select. There
were the Dowager Duchess de Choiseul, the Viscountess de Maille, whose
seventeen-years-old daughter had just been guillotined; there was the
Marquise de Crequi, the intellectual lady who has often been called the
last marquise of the _ancien regime_, and who in her witty memoirs wrote
the French history of the eighteenth century as viewed from an
aristocratic standpoint. There was Abbe Texier, who, when the
revolutionists threatened him with the lantern, because he had refused
to take the oath of allegiance to the new constitution, replied: "Will
you see any better after having hung me to the lantern?" And there was
yet another, a M. Duvivier, a pupil
.
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