Imprisoned at St. Germain Chateau

I was then taken to St. Germain-en-laye's chateau and for accommodation I was given an anteroom which had five or six doors leading from it. Apparently I was to be inconvenienced to the point where I would protest, but I did not and my silence elicited pity instead. I was then placed in the worst dormitory which consisted of incontinent priests (who like Diogenes) hid like sheep, and people without education. As soon as Lemaire, custodian of furnishings, saw my arrival, he appeared with a very good bed. Fortunately I did not stay for a long time in this den. A small room

(186)
which had a magnificent view was the object of my desires and I obtained it with the help of several friends. Always content, or appearing to be, the district, the municipality, even the committee returned justice to my detriment. Meanwhile I painted the beautiful view from my room with a few pastels and I made a gift of the picture to madam Lemaire who now possesses it.

I had just arrived when that patriot, the inspector, came to demand approximately 8000 francs, spending details of which he had in his hands, and which he had neglected to take through proper channels in the department. I invited him to refer this matter to the director and the district who were my superiors. Instead of taking this approach he wrote to my family about a debt which had put me in danger. My brother then borrowed the required sum, arrived, and paid the 'debt' without even consulting me, thus rendering by his excessive tenderness a very bad service. It was a former Jacobin notary named le Couturier who gave him this ridiculous advice. Can you believe it? No, it is impossible to believe. The state control suffered me to lose 80 percent or more on this affair and then paid me off some eighteen months later without even taking into consideration the depreciation of assignats and claims. I counted on the state control as upon my mother. Regrettably, this mother had been a cruel one.

Rouget de l'Isle, Stool Pidgeon

One day, I met the author of the 'the Marseillaise' in a corridor. He knew that I was his neighbour but he had not bothered to come and see me.

I stopped him saying, "Ah! There you are! I would have preferred meeting you on the terrace than here." He didn't say a word about the 300 francs he still owed me, and I didn't mention it. Meanwhile my capital had diminished considerably. Since he did not appear willing to talk about it, I said to him one day, "My faith! I don't know whether to consider you a cheat, but I have a delicate matter to discuss with you. I ask that you make good on the loan that you made from me for three days, three months ago." A fortnight later he came and knocked on my door. Without entering

(187)
he placed in my hand what he owed me. Surprised, I approached him and said, "Pardon, sir, but I thought you were a messenger coming to deliver a package." I always believed that this man had been a prisoner only to report on what took place on the inside [a 'stool pidgeon'] and that he was being paid by the government.

Chateau, St. Germain-en-Laye

Inmates and Guards

The chateau of St. Germain was soon replenished and I saw arriving on all sides the most respectable and the most pleasant women whose secretary I had been. Some remembered me, others had forgotten.

A young lady arrived, full of innocence but perfectly naive. A lady brought her to me with a request that I give her some guidance. I duly made her aware of the young people whose intimate company she should avoid. Immediately the one who introduced us went on to compromise me! You who read this, I caution you not to always give in to your compassionate inclinations. Ten times in the course of my life this type of character has surfaced causing me untold grief. I return to the young prisoner...

To serve her, she had been given an unscrupulous valet who announced when his mistress was taking a bath, went to bed, or changed her linen. People would line up in a row to take a peek at her through the keyhole. I advised the young lady to get rid of her valet, but this scoundrel knew some family secrets which prevented her from doing so.

Then there came to us an abominable character by the name of Marquise de .... He had been a rabid revolutionary and an informer of a universally respected old man - the very one to whom he owed all his riches. The committee had compassion on this scoundrel and let him go free.

St. Germain's chateau was a very pleasant prison because of the beauty of the landscapes, the good company, and by the spaciousness of its corridors. Our first guard, named Quelescourt,

(188)
had qualities that surpassed his position. He was not zealous and liked to be of service. He could be trusted but the sheep [stool pigeons] denounced him and he was dismissed. His successor was an immoral man and a watchdog of the most hideous sort. He was a former sacristan, had married his sister, and lived on the things he stole from the prisoners. It would have been dangerous to complain because it was under his jurisdiction that reports were made and sent to Fouquier Tinville [the public prosecutor]. Twelve persons who were not satisfied with his behaviour were sent to the guillotine.

The 'sheep' (the name we gave to the traitors in our midst) entered my room freely and cast their eyes on everything, as if by way of entertainment, and stole from me whenever they could get away with it. "What's Crommelin doing?" was the question that the [Jacobin] club and revolutionary committee asked ceaselessly. - "He draws the landscape which he sees before him; he always laughs; he eats his dry bread without murmuring, and he gets involved in absolutely nothing."

A Guillotine Arrives

A mission arrived from Paris to examine the courtyard of the chateau and place a guillotine there. While I was at the window a voice rose within earshot of this prisoner who has acute hearing. I saw the door sentinel approaching one of the police commissioners and I heard him clearly say, "We won't take charge of the man with the paintings just yet. The pear isn't ripe, my friend, but it won't be long now." Undoubtedly it was me they were referring to in their discussion.

Good madam Lemaire then had the kindness to employ every means at her disposal to learn what was being said. Having learned that I was scheduled to be the eleventh person to be guillotined, she came to see me with a bottle of brandy which was the customary password [bribe] for the jailer. Since she could speak to me only in his presence, she warned me of the danger I faced using great ingenuity. - "Oh, what a charming landscape," she said looking out the window. - "Madam you will see an even better view if we go to the crossing." - "Be on guard over your boxes of paintings."

(189)
"What a marvelous view! You are being accused of being a smuggler. This flat is very pleasant... Put yourself in charge of the situation - it is urgent." Nothing more needed to be said. I requested permission to go with two policemen (by paying) to look for linen and some winter clothes. This was granted, my plan being to take along my wallet so that it might help me respond to any necessity.

Turning The Tables

Apparently the door sentinel moved quickly because the next day the police commissioners for paintings came to Versailles to ask me about the contents of my boxes. "Gentlmen, I object, and I will respond to your inquiry only in the presence of the assembled authorities." - "Well, that can be arranged because they are meeting right now in the Judge's Chambers. Come with us." There I showed them my documents of correspondence, bill of lading, invoice, order to sell, etc., etc. - "Everything seems in order but it will be necessary to open the boxes." - "You have no right to do that! Monsieur de Vieusseux lives in Paris at such and such street, and at such and such number; he is a Genevan and Geneva is our ally. Therefore I insist that you show me which law authorizes you to open something which belongs to him. You just told me that my papers are in order and in that respect I am thus justifiably his agent." The door sentinel being present, I added, "Here is my informer. He is a villain! He also accused his boss, monsieur de Souliagre, and his slander was proved. Then he denounced me as a despoiler because of a tree worth fifteen sols (which had been accidentally removed by a worker) and it was necessary to question an 80 year-old woman to get that matter straightened out. Now he's accusing me of being a smuggler while I have produced sufficient evidence to the contrary. Here he is, this monster. I swamped him with kindness and he thanks me by fabricating another grievance against me when all I did was refuse to add a complete apartment to his lodgings. Here he is, I say, gentlemen. I demand that he be interrogated, and I challenge him to prove me wrong if I have deviated in any way from the truth!"

(190)
This aggressive approach turned on the lights. - "You are a scoundrel," said the police commissioners to him, "and we shall report your behaviour to the department and to the representatives... Sir, remain calm. You are completely vindicated of a charge which (to be candid) seemed very grave. Furthermore we cannot, and must not, open the boxes."

More Accusations

Even more serious charges where then hurled against me. A scoundrel from Guise wrote that I had purchased horses for Coblenis and raised the Regiment of the Royal cavalry. I was obliged to be interrogated about these facts, and I owed this ordeal to the opinion of a man of some stature. If both of these denunciations had been made in Paris, I certainly would have been finished. I did not deny the purchase of the horses which I had made, but I produced the order of one of the members of the Legislative Body asking me to hire one of his farmers; I attached this to the letter of engagement dated a village near Saint-Quentin, and I had offered to have this man who had driven the horses from Guise to this village come at my expense. All this was provided along with a certificate signed by the municipality.

Because a revolt ensued, here is the interrogation I underwent. - "You are accused of having raised the regiment of the King's cavalry." - "Of the two charges being leveled at me - whether I did or did not take part in the revolt - choose the thesis which I have to defend." - "According to our information you instigated this revolt." - "Well, in that case, I deserve a reward! Aristocratic officers wanted to lead their soldiers to Coblents, but I thus preserved the brave defenders of our homeland. The truth is that I don't know any officer nor any soldier of this regiment. Military strategies are conceived in military garrisons where I was never admitted. It follows therefore that there is no merit whatsoever in this accusation, invented by an imbecile. Your reports bear all the hallmarks of false allegations." The judges looked astonished while one wrote down my answers. Then one said to me honestly, "You may go."

These two sessions were a tonic to my

(191)
blood because now there remained not a single charge of consequence against me, and the man who instigated so much trouble had been knocked down. While three briefs from the Academy had been found in my home, nothing was ever said about them.

Bread and Water

At this time I had been living for more than two months on nothing other than bread and water. Here then is what took place. A squad of armed patriots entered the prison. Immediately we were ordered to remain in our rooms, in fact we were even locked up. I took a nice little stick and attached a rather sharp piece of iron to it in order to sell my life as dearly as possible if it came to violence. One after the other we were summoned. The inquiry was to ascertain whether we had any money or jewels. When my turn came up, I was well-escorted into a den where I was asked what I possessed. I showed them twelve assignats each worth fifty francs. - "You are being assessed four hundred and fifty francs per month to be given to charity." - "You will undoubtedly find, gentlemen, that 600 francs is hardly enough for me to pay for my meals, my maintenance, the housekeeper, my laundress, my tobacco, etc., etc..." A voice shouted, "He's right!" It was that of a nice man named Guilleminet whom I greeted with pleasure each time I encountered him. - "I do not undertake, citizens, to pay you 450 francs per month with a 600-franc capital." - "You have family, let them help you." - "She too is under arrest." - "You have friends." - "Yes, those whom I may not contact while I'm in prison. Here, take these assignats and give me some bread and water. Then when my breeches are torn and threadbare I shall fashion an underskirt from a housecoat, and I'll sing and dance to beg for more." This made a lot of the men laugh. - "OK, get going. You will eat with the needy (who were actually the best served.)" - "No, citizen, I would only create hardship for a needy person who is less frugal than myself. So I ask only for some bread and water." - "OK, so be it."

(192)
Thus I lived seven or eight months on bread and water without losing either my cheerfulness or my courage.

When I was approached by Guilleminet, he shook my hand. - "Calm your spirits," he said to me, "what you saw was an arbitrary act; there is no order."

On a sojourn out of this cesspool, I took a piece of carbon and wrote on the walls of the corridor a very beautiful lyric, the words of which are:

Ego sum pauper.
Nihit kababo
Si tibi dano...

Ten to twelve musicians came to perform this canon. The jailer went out to say that we were singing the vespers. Other people arrived, and they sang along with us, Ego sum pauper...

Chateau, St. Germain-en-Laye

Fed By An Angel

But my initiative displeased the authorities who wanted to harrass me. And to induce my discomfort I was not permitted to have bread and water for three days. Though I had the sense to keep silent, there is always an act of providence which never abandons the unfortunate. While I was looking out the window, despondent in my reverie, I noticed a woman out on the terrace below which belonged to the daughter of King Louis XV who was also under arrest. This woman was her chambermaid with a figure which I judged to be lithe and pretty. I wrote these words on a piece of paper:

"I am starving. This evening I will lower a rope. Please do me a favour! Buy for me a pâté, two wine bottles and a loaf of bread. You will receive payment for your expenses by the same rope."

I dropped her the note. As she moved to pick it up, two scoundrels turned around. Now this excellent creature raised her foot and, pretending to fix her garter, she shouted to them, "Move back! Is it really necessary for you to know if I have nice legs?!" Then my note was quickly picked up and a moment later the good girl

(193)
returned and, without looking up, said, "Ivrognes! Listen to me. This evening at nine o'clock my lover will come to see me. I don't want you to be around. I shall lock you in the kitchen and you will have something to drink. Do you understand me? At nine o'clock!" - "You really don't have to do that." - "No, but I have something to do..."

At nine o'clock I lowered a towel and some assignats using a rope fashioned from handkerchiefs. Thus I obtained what I had asked for. I have never seen this person without being overwhelmed by a feeling of gratitude.

Two days later an ex-servant named Bertrand met me and inquired, "You didn't have any bread!" - "Yes, I know." - "How did you get by?" - "Good question! I simply got along without it." - "What? You ate nothing?!" - "No." - "You must be starved!" - "Well, I'm beginning to get used to it." - "Somebody must have taken pity on you." - "Nobody was in my confidence." I was then given some bread, wine and a dish of cod. -"I shall keep the bread and give back the rest." - "Your Crommelin is a very proud man," said one of our tyrants to one of the prisoners. - "You are mistaken. It isn't you whom he defies; it is his own misfortune which he has the courage to rise above." My hardship was largely self-imposed. It was an attempt to create inner fortitude which others perceived to be defiance.

I Begin Writing

By accident I discovered a niche in the fireplace of my room. Immediately the idea came to me to begin writing. Subject matter appeared ceaselessly. Here is how I formed my manuscript...

I tore a whole sheet of paper from top to bottom, and then into eight or ten parts. Then, collecting the pieces, I numbered them with the first nine signs of the zodiac, adopting K for zero. Then I filled my fragments of paper (always in the order of the numbers) and I distinguished every full sheet by a similar mark. So to find a certain page I had only to look for a particular

(194)
mark and reunite the pieces. [It would take the devil himself to try and decipher it all because I wrote in English, Italian, base Latin, French, and in abbreviation.] I was indeed the master of my time but I worked at night, and since candles had to pass through the hands of the jailers, I made them myself with kitchen wastes. This pastime amazed the others. I guarded my secret and nobody was able to suspect the motive which made me choose such an unpleasant activity.

Finally I was given a companion with whom I could converse, but one who was chronically drunk and with whom I rarely agreed. We quibbled a lot but always with great sincerity. This companion had a very bright son, one who was far above average anyone of his age. I made an excellent mathematician of him but his gratitude was soon forgotten for which I am neither surprised nor angry. This is the only observation that I shall allow myself regarding this. However, it brings to mind two incidents which I shall elaborate upon.

The respectable Monsieur de Monfleury, a former officer of the bodyguards, believing me to be living in privation in prison, came to find me early one morning, presented me with a boot full of assignats and said to me, "Here, take this. You can repay me whenever you can." I politely declined his kind offer, proving that I really didn't need it. Another time, believing me to be in dire straits, he came by again to offer me a rather large sum of money.

This time, wanting to show my appreciation, I accepted one hundred ecus with the intention of keeping them only four days. But in order to place a witness between this generous friend and myself, I asked an acquaintance to return the money to him with an open letter.

Thinking About Escape

One day Madam Neverre, a prisoner, came to see me with some ladies of her group. Having put

(195)
her head in the window of the kitchen, she exclaimed, "Well! We could..." I put a finger to my lips cautioning her to be silent. She understood and did not finish, but she asked me later why I had made a sign to keep silent. - "Because there are too many listening ears. Your idea, madam, was considered... Yes, one could conceivably escape through this crossing. Two sheets tied together are enough to reach this terrace. The most fearless ones would have to descend perpendicularly, then, putting up some sort of ladder obliquely, the other women would need only half of their strength to make the descent." - "OK. So when we have made it that far, what next?" - "The same operation could be employed to gain access to the bridge." - "Oh! I want to dance on this rope right now!" - "You won't need it right now, but you can certainly count on me if an escape becomes necessary."

I rarely left my room, especially since the author of the 'Marseillaise' [Rouget de l'Isle] had become a sort of Coryphaeus [stool pidgeon]. We laughed at him but in truth we were unsure about him. Undoubtedly he was an individual who could be helpful, or a very dangerous person.

Making A Woman Cry

I had the honor to be allowed to meet with madam President P... She honored me too with her particular respect. I was the one who had prepared the defence of monsieur, her husband. Having asked him why he did not draft it himself, he replied in the same way that Dupont Dutertre had done: that when it came to personal matters, very few writers know where to stop. Through fear of not saying enough, one always winds up saying too much!

One day I found madam P... overcome with sadness. - "My god! Madam, in what a state I see you today! You are suffering. [She had a cancer] Are you depressed? - "Make me cry; it is a need I have but cannot satisfy." I admit that I didn't know much about how to make a woman cry. As I was about to leave to ponder this, she raised her head and

(196)
said to me, "It is my despair; it is my agony." I sensed she was referring to her daughter, and that it would be necessary to strike this cord in order to touch her. Returning to my room, I wrote the following stanza to the melody of the 'Marseilleise'. (I knew that she liked the tune of the 'Marseillaise' although she hated the words).

Object of my deep tenderness,
You who have escaped from my arms,
Your image follows me unceasingly,
To my voice you do not return;
While pursuing your sad career
Do you also cherish those bonds
That link us together
Though space has imposed a barrier?
Adelle my hope, Adelle my agony,
Return to my withered heart,
I wait only for this moment.

I returned to her chamber and sang this stanza to her. She cried and made me repeat it. That relieved her. This notable lady and her husband died because they were owners of the best wine of Bordeaux.

Flirting In Prison

Sir Marquis de N... led a very withdrawn lifestyle in prison but he received with courtesy the members of the [revolutionary] committee. Me, I would have thrown them some money, as one would cast some bread to dogs.

Madam allowed me to court her. I made some verses for her, and she deigned to answer me in the same language. If I dare to remove her verses from my wallet to quote from them, it is only to reveal her poetic talent, delicacy, pure use of language, and the imagination which she employed to say honest things.

You appear, O my tender Musette,
Crommelin, to be a person wise and true;
You draw a portrait of us;
But your manner and language
Paint yourself as one who is discreet;
To you charity
Adds to your happiness,
While your only reward
Resides in your own heart.

(197)
I will not quote the next stanzas because they are too flattering so that I dare not copy them, but I have to say that these verses are exceptionally well done and bear the stamp of a woman with a great deal of spirit.

I Offend Rouget de l'Isle Again

Nobody paid any attention to the author of the 'Marseillaise' which made him very angry. He called me 'Balourd' ('unbalanced') and I called him the 'Strolling Fiddler' because he played the the violin. One day he told me that he was a musician and I replied that I too had very lively movements [with a sword, no doubt] and was willing to prove it to him some day. Here is an incident which set off some violent agitation in him.

We dined together at an honest man's place in whom all the virtues were united. His greatest pleasure was to give to others without expecting any thanks in return. A young Irishman had drawn the plan of the chateau and, "Sir," he said to the musician, "you are an engineer. Please explain to me how I can make an ellipse. I need one in order to draw a staircase." - "Ask Crommelin, he knows everything." - "Since monsieur the engineer doesn't know his profession, and because he appoints me to replace him, I shall say to you that an ellipse can be made several different ways, even without a compass. Give me some thread and two pins. We shall instantly find an ellipse which is suitable for your needs." I was never forgiven for slighting him this way.

Madam D.L.H wished to have a song written about her detention. I wrote the music and the words. Unfortunately the song was well received and it wasn't the strolling fiddler who had written it. Furthermore he understood nothing about music as a mathematical science and he had no idea of what to do with a bass.

I Am Released

Finally we learned of the death of Robespierre [July 27, 1794]. I had suspected it by the changed attitude of the 'sheep' [stool pidgeons] and by the kindness of our prison guard.

My brother came to see me about this time

(198)
but a backpain (sciatica) had prevented me from enjoying the privilege of going out for a walk on the terrace between two guards and at my expense. When my brother came I asked him to request the same permission from the revolutionary committee. He duly went away to request permission of the committee which kept him waiting for a long time. Meanwhile I got impatient and when I saw him returning I asked, "Did you get permission?" - "Yes, and also an extra bonus: you are free!"

Smuggling Out My Papers

I opened my 'secretary' in the chimney where I had hidden my manuscript and removed the pieces of paper which I mentioned earlier. I put these in a chamber pot. After having visited all my companions I appeared at the door. - "What have you got there?" - "See for yourself. Not wanting to leave a mess for someone else to clean up after me, I'm taking out the garbage." This was my manuscript. - "You are very considerate. Go ahead, pass."

My first concern was to go to the good lady Lem... As a trusted confidant she had received on the bridge a wallet filled with precious papers which I originally had been entrusted with. These had followed me everywhere and I didn't want them exposed. Since the fate of several families depended on it, I had taken measures so that these papers would have been returned in the event that I would have died in prison. [Would you believe it? Those to whom I finally returned these papers became very indifferent to me. It seems every company, every city, every country, has a character which is appropriate to it].

This is how I got the papers over to Madam Lem. When I wanted to express an opinion, I wrote it down, then, placing it between two wooden fragments, I tossed it over into the ditches where madam Lem... would collect it while pretending to pick herbs.

Back To Work

So finally I was free but deprived of all my possessions and without any money. The civil list (municipal bureaucracy) softened and asked me to resume my former position (nothing more than token appeasement no doubt) but there are bridges in life where it is necessary to stop. Having preserved a forest of 9000 acres

(199)
intact; a chateau built by several Kings; public walks which General Wittenkoft wanted ploughed up - walks which form the wealth of a city without industry because they attracted tourists and thus drove the retail trade; finally, having been useful to 300 persons and having contributed to the increase of beauty in the region by establishing orchards, did I not merit this job offer? The absence of the beneficial man multiplies his merit. He is spoken of with great interest but his actual presence produces the opposite effect. Gratitude and recognition wanes and all that he did is forgotten. And he himself notices this only when he experiences some misfortune, or needs those whom he believes to be his friends.

In truth, I did not suspect that a state control (which should be equitable) would refuse to protect a man who had just sacrificed himself for its welfare. One time it was even necessary to don a patriot's costume and go to the bar to ask for justice. Six members of the National Convention would have supported me, and it was suggested that what was owing to me be paid off in public property. My confidence in the body rose but I was stunned by what eventually took place, namely the biggest blunder of my life.

I Demand Restitution

Although resisted by a man of little ability, but zealous, who had been the manager in the interim, it was found proper to have me reinstated. But everything had been done in a hurry to the point that nothing remained for me. I began by demanding the bond-money I had paid in 1778; plus two years of interest, plus 4940 francs for a wrongly-supposed debit for which I had been charged. In all it came to 21435 francs. - "You have a just claim; you will be repaid."

Well, first of all 29 thirtieth of my claim was disallowed and then the remaining thirtieth was to be paid to me in assignats which were now worth only two percent of their face value. So of the 21435 francs which I had paid in cash, my net return in real value was only fourteen pounds, ten sols on which

(200)
I had to spend an additional 34 pounds for expenses! Consequently I was ruined by this complaint and even this sum was subject to a tax.

Up to now my losses were not given any thought by the state bureaucracy, so I approached the government very humbly to pay me the 8000 francs which its inspector had stolen from my brother while I was incarcerated, plus the interest on this sum which I had paid. First of all they kept me waiting for eighteen months and then instead of paying me off at the rate of the assignats which prevailed at the time of the theft, I was thus forced to lose another 80 percent of the money I used to settle up with my brother.

My distress increased along with my freedom, so I undertook yet another initiative. As my arrest was unjust, and since the proof of it lay in the act, I demanded wages or at least a share of the sales which I had made. No response.

I then went to the Minister of the Navy to ask him for my commission on a forest which had been sold to him. I was thus received: "Your demand is justifiable. Prepare your petition and the state control will be consulted. Upon its approval you will be paid." So what does the government do? I receive an evasive reply to the effect that 'the conductor of the Civil List (bureaucracy) has no jurisdiction over fees related to the forest'. "So," I asked, "what jurisdiction does it have in the way of finance?"

Most likely I had been hung out to dry by some power as it seemed simpler to sacrifice me than to get involved in the business of commissions and reparations. It is a fact that an extraordinary auction [of the forest] does not annul the fees involved in its sale simply because it happens to 'diminish regular sales'. Besides, a civil servant has to live.

Another cutting was to take place to furnish Paris with charcoal. I set to work drafting the necessary posters, making all the calculations, and then I showed up at the place of the sale.

(201)
In short, I found a young wood dealer from Havre there armed with unusual powers. I protested against this irregularity but the state control allowed him to continue without saying a word, thus enabling the wood dealer, a government representative, to steal from his civil servant because this man was not only a wood dealer but undoubtedly one who had received some louis [bribes]. It had cost me 6000 francs to create the civil list, the cost of workers, land surveyors, clerks, shipments, journeys, purchases of furniture, rents, etc., etc. The Minister had promised me 4000 francs for working four months, day and night. Thus I demanded 10,000 francs compensation. The representative, Beffroi, took me to see the Minister who cheerfully said to me, "Remain calm, I shall obtain justice for you."

Because of devaluation he managed to reduce my claim for 10,000 francs for advances and salaries down to 2000 francs, and placed this sum in the overdue ledger. But even from this paltry sum I never obtained a sol, and the state control which benefited from my labours didn't even deign to say a single word on my behalf. Clearly, the question of 'jurisdiction' could not be shaken.

Defending My Art Treasures

I am now going to speak about my six boxes of paintings, lost from view for a long time. A messenger came with an important air to advise me that a constituent body had assembled to open the crates. I therefore hurried to my former lodgings to find a multitude of authorities and curious onlookers gathered there. Upon inquiry I responded, "Gentlemen, I have but a single reply for you to put an end to all your questions." The interrogation ended when I produced my documents of entitlement. - "They are very good, but these boxes will not remain with you." - "Yes, they will remain with me or you will show me the law which authorizes you to remove them from me!" - "Prove to us that the one whom you say is the owner is in fact a Genevan." - "When I say that he is, the onus is on you to prove otherwise! But tomorrow I shall give you better evidence." - I then went to Paris to the home of Monsieur Reubaix

(202)
where Leubatz resided, the envoy of Geneva. I asked him to provide some assurance that Monsieur Vieusseux was indeed a Genevan. I duly carried this certification back to the district. - "Yes, that is good! But it isn't enough." - "Now what is needed?" - "His certificate of baptism." - "Well, he could be a Genevan and still not be baptized in Geneva! But I shall try to get it even if I have to go there myself." I managed to obtain the document and brought it back to satisfy the investigators. - "Excellent! But it is not enough." - "Now what do you need?" - "We need a certificate of the original order from Geneva." - "OK, you shall have it!"

This I obtained from an employee who said to me, "Don't give up; you can count on me." I duly presented this document and was again met with the words, "It is not enough!" - "You will now tell me what I have to present to you that will suffice!" - "We need a certificate from the municipality of Surenne which proves that Vieusseux behaved well." Now, this municipality happened to be very nasty, but in response to a flattering letter which I wrote, it assembled extraordinarily and signed without hesitation the model of a certificate which I had prepared. In fact, Monsieur Lemaire volunteered to come along on this painful journey. He got lost at night, and at one point nearly died in the snows of Mt. Calvaire.

Once again I presented the certificate. - "It is not enough. The certificate must be one signed by three representatives." This too was obtained. - "It is not enough! The department has to intervene." - It intervened and even this was not enough. - "An order of the director of the state control is required." - Now, this authorization not only carried an order to hand the boxes back to me, but it also conveyed apologies for the unjust harassments I had been subjected to. Then I was told to be on guard over the paintings because I had won them fairly. Clearly they wanted to seize these paintings by wearing me down, but I was indefatigable. Monsieur de Vieusseux then asked me to choose two. I believed I could safely do that without violating my conscience and cast my eyes upon a Berghem and one by Léonardo da Vinci.

"The Ford" by Claes Puetersz Berghem (1620-1683)

The Hard-nosed Bureaucracy

The need for a little rest made me ask for leave which I obtained. Before leaving I made note of all the well-intentioned debtors

(203)
who at present were unable to pay. I also asked my substitute (whose father had been a bailiff) not to send out any collection notices until I had returned. But what does the upstart do? He denounces me as a member allied to the nationalists and began tormenting the very ones whom I wanted to spare without taking their circumstances into consideration simply because I did an accounting every three months.

Upon my return, the inspector said to me, "It's stupid to be compassionate," and in the next mail I received an unpleasant letter. I believe, and I shall always believe, that a hard-nosed civil servant is a man without compassion; that being inflexible is a bad way to do business if one hasn't exhausted all gentler avenues. Being inflexible increases hard feelings and results in losses which otherwise would not have arisen if we had but granted a little more time. Furthermore, I believe that the state control doesn't do enough to examine the character of its civil servants. For the most part they are nasty, born of a villainous nature, made drunk by the authority they wield, and who consider themselves important because of the fear which they are able to instill.

The soft man harms the system while the hard man harms the people. But the one who is both firm and reasonable fulfills his duties without harming either. Such were always my principles.

Overzealousness corrupts the spirit. The one who doesn't understand this is like the butcher's assistant who is praised by his boss for displaying zeal and is thus turned into a tiger. The farmer-general did not like those who were overzealous. They were considered turbulent - people to avoid if there was to be any order, but the truth is that he often lost lawsuits which arose through the greed of the controllers-general.

But what does one do when injustice is backed up by force? I do not intend to rant at the state control; I simply state what happened and what misfortune befell the civil servant who lacked intelligence!

The district ordered me to have the chimneys of the national houses cleaned at the risk of being

(204)
liable for any accidents. I obeyed. But instead of noting whether the district even had the right to do this, I was punished by having these expenses deducted from my account in spite of the fact that this responsibility belonged to the district!

A crack which threatened a vast building filled with tenants suddenly appeared. After making things right I went to the department. "What have you got yourself involved in now?" asked someone. "I've gotten involved in the life of forty persons. Now what's that you're doing?" - I was never reimbursed for my expenses.

I saw a bailiff being ordered to do a seizure at the home of a bed-ridden woman for a doubtful debt and for fun. The bailiff naturally didn't want any part of this kind of travesty.

I saw children's cots being seized at the home of a shoemaker. These were taken out of an apartment which was neither closed nor covered, and where soldiers, at night, had removed all that he possessed. He was in debt and reparations were duly carried out.

I saw a wood dealer being accosted to pay a debt he didn't even owe. Justice having been restored to him by the department and the director, I heard from the inspector that this act of injustice was merely silly gossip.

I saw the same man doing the work of a spy to see whether a certain bookseller wasn't selling stamped paper. He even brought along a police officer so as not to degrade his own position. I saw another inspector serve papers on a righteous notary (under the mask of good faith), charging him an excessive fine based upon a revolutionary law. However the notary outsmarted him. This is what I call overzealousness. We can thus be assured that a civil servant, praised for his zeal, is a man without compassion - a man without morality and almost always without a soul. He is thus an instrument of fiscal oppression in the same way that a toothache presages the agony of a tooth extraction. The managers knew it, but undoubtedly they saw fewer inconveniences in maintaining this fervour than by propagating a wisdom

(205)
which might degenerate into abuse. As for the wise man, they might esteem him, but never do they praise him.

My Office Becomes a Battleground

About this time the inspector who had swindled 8000 francs from me in prison came to ask me for a favour. "Gladly," I said to him, "this confidence honors us both." It was a time when what took place between us would have had dire consequences. - "Eh, but it involved only you." - "Before replying, I would like to give you a few minutes to reflect upon that statement, but I caution you that I am a Picard and I admit that at this very moment I am taking great pains to restrain myself." - "I don't consider you very dangerous because only a coward would take issue with the circumstances which have gone before." - "Do you sense the gravity of what you just said?" - "Yes." - "In that case I am going to answer. You just came to ask me for a favour and I agreed to perform it with honesty. I provoked an explanation which could have resulted in tranquility between us but you chose to offend me! You scoundrel! Before cutting off your ears I am going to break one of your arms because I believe that a cane is the weapon which is suitable for you." I seized a stout stick and I was about to strike him when Monsieur Lemaire, who had heard everything, stepped forward to remove the stick from my hands. But, taking my man by the arm, I pushed him against the door and saluted him by kicking him in the buttocks with my foot.

I thought he might only write me a few lines or take me aside to obtain an explanation, but in fact he took full revenge by giving me the reputation of a hostile Picard. Some time later another man with a distinguished name came to my office with a menacing attitude. I had been working with Monsieur de Santeul, a forestry official, in a wood cutting assignment. I had written favourably of this man and in spite of my efforts to serve him, the project was not a success. He took me aside and spoke harshly to me. - "You are wrong, sir. I am not a judge. I pleaded your cause, I employed your methods and you yourself carried my letters to the post office, and I handed them to you opened." - Note the

(206)
response. - "The way you make this demand deserves a refusal, so here it is." He tore it out of my hand with force leaving me with the piece which I had under my thumb.

"I am in my office and I can write, charging you expensively for this violence. Here we have a respectable witness, but I prefer to say to you, that only a fool would have behaved as you just did. - "We shall see each other again sometime." - "Why later? Here we have a garden, two pistols and two witnesses. Now let's see if you are as brave as you are boastful." - "Damn, you are quick!" - Then, monsieur de Santeul spoke. "You are wrong to do this, sir. I shall guarantee, if necessary, that Mister Crommelin behaved with wisdom and that you insulted him with the most irrational anger." - He replied, "I swear that I didn't intend to tear the letter, and I declare that by saying we shall see each other again I meant to say that we shall speak later about this affair. - "Well, in that case there is no further insult. Let us therefore close this matter." The situation ended there and my recommendations were not fruitless. Of twenty agitators there is usually nineteen who will calm down when we face up to them.

My Misfortunes Multiply

It would be possible to make of my life at Saint Germain a comedy similar to that entitled The Twenty Misfortunes of Harlequin. Many scenarios may seem exaggerated but I write on the scene and all these episodes I experienced. I do not distort the truth or embroider it. One would think that by now my misfortunes would be over. Not at all. The measure had not yet reached its full height.

Famine came upon us when bread was being sold for 100 francs per pound and meat cost even more. I wasn't being paid enough to cover the expenses of state control such as rent, wood, light, postage, etc., etc. Therefore I renewed my complaints but they were all rejected. Finally I decided to go and ask for some bread from the state control. Yes, simply some bread, nothing more.

(207)
An administrator said to me, "Return to your post. We'll take care of you." Because of his extreme sensitivity, he undoubtedly didn't want to face a person in need so he preferred to have them get out of his sight. The fact is that it hardly mattered to him whether I disappeared or starved. It may be ridiculous to put me in the same category as the government at that time, but such were the circumstances and now is a good time to relate such an incident.

Famine

I was walking sadly through the downs of Saint Germain when I happened to walk by the home of an old woman named Futinotte, doorkeeper at one of the bars. I found her eating a little flour diluted with water and a scrawny chicken which looked hardly appetizing. - "What are you doing madame?" - "I'm dining." - "Why are you eating that?" - "Because I have nothing else." A moment of compassion gripped my heart and I suddenly felt very sorry for her. "Come with me," I said, asking this woman to follow me. - "I have difficulty walking." - "Then take my arm. I shall carry you if necessary." So I dragged her to the municipality where there were more than fifty persons waiting. I explained what I saw and insisted with much agitation that this woman be given a sack of flour from the warehouse which was under the municipal guard.- "Who will pay for this?" - "God." - "And who is his cashier?" - "I am." I was charged 400 francs and returned with the poor lady to her home. It never occurred to me to back down on my promises.

To protect myself in the famine I decided to go and visit my family. I left with Martin, a guardian of the forest, in a cart drawn by two horses and covered with an old tarpaulin. Martin was a strong, agile and brave young man about 6 feet tall. When we arrived at Gomez, nobody wanted to receive us and it was late.

(208)
Martin filled the doorway of the inn and caused everyone to move back thus enabling me to enter the kitchen. Indeed we were offered lodging, but no food. However I noticed several tables and stoves well-laden with food. - "Why do you not want to give us some supper?" - "Because all that you see here is to feed the freight drivers who are here tonight." - "But I am one too. I do hope that my colleagues will have the courtesy to allow me to eat with them also." - "Where are you from?" - "From Saint-Quentin." - "And who is your forwarding agent?" - "Lagny." - "That's correct." Then we were given seats near the fire. The suppers cost 200 francs each. I didn't order a meal but Martin kindly shared some of his with me. - "You're not eating," said one of the freight drivers to me. - "It's because he doesn't like the company here," observed his companion. "Come on, my friend, eat along with us. We must get you accustomed to the good company." The host who was sitting next to me whispered in my ear, "You aren't the first person to act so aloof here." The next day I spoke again to this man who admitted that he understood the situation but only wanted to receive the price of another meal.

I finally arrived back in my hometown like the prodigal son. My wife shivered when she learned the reason for my journey. I went to the countryside where my cart was piled up with two sacks of wheat, two sacks of flour, two bushels of bread, almost a third of a cask full of pâté, a sizeable quantity of excellent cider made from select apples, and all this was covered with carrots, turnips, potatoes, etc. Learning that on my return journey I would be passing nowhere where there would be any food, I assumed the role of a tough freight driver and passed by everything, whip in hand. A funny thing happened when I was stopped at Verbery by a sentinel. I showed him my receipt for staying at an inn, and when he examined it from back to front he said that my 'passport' was good. Indeed, it had been well digested. My wife had just given me six loaves of bread which I brought out for my return trip to Paris. Four loaves had been taken from me by the sentinel.

(209)
But since I was well-provisioned I didn't make any fuss about it.

Later I happened to walk past the door of an administrator of domains. Upon entering I found the family overcome with sadness. - "Why so somber?" - "For the last 36 hours there has been absolutely no bread available in Paris and the children are crying to have some bread for their lunch." I flew to the door where I had left my last two loaves and I returned putting one on the table. - "What miracle has brought this about?" So I told them of my recent journey and offered them two measures of flour. - "The scarcity of bread," said the administrator, "will last only until tomorrow. After that it should be available again. But since the police in provincial towns are not as prominent as in Paris, guard your provisions well. If I have need of it, I may have to appeal to you again."

Forged Currency

About this time all those who owed me anything descended upon me en masse. A general and mutual distrust was prevalent.

Wood merchants brought considerable sums of money. One paid me 175,000 francs in bills in one lump sum of which some 1400 francs were forgeries - two of the 500-franc notes and four of 100 francs. The inspector took them while doing my accounts and returned them two days later. - "How do I know these bills are mine?" - "You'll just have to take my word for it." - "Well, what are the indications that they're forgeries?" - "There's a process we use to test them." - "Why did they fail? It is equally as necessary for me to know as yourself." [I had examined the date on them.] "Hey indeed, sir, these notes were received three weeks before the existence of this report and here is the proof." - "How could I possibly identify them?" - "If it's all the same to you, sir, I will not accept them." - "Leave your report until the next quarter. That will give you time to recall

(210)
who gave them to you." - "My memory is useless, sir." - "Then you will just have to accept my word that they are yours."

I decided to write to the state control and inquire how I might recognize forged assignats.
1. when there is no type to distinguish them;
2. when they are presented to me before their forgery is to be noticed,
3. when the boards which wear out by the friction of the press are retouched;
4. when the observations made with a magnifying glass by the police examiners are not sent to the conductors.

I further observed that to examine 3500 fifty-franc notes to a value of 175,000 francs by spending only a half-minute to test each one would require some twenty nine hours. It seemed unfair to me that the conductors were not granted a proportionate allowance to absorb the hazards of forgeries as was extended to bankers where the cashiers were granted immunity from such errors. I pursued this injustice further whereupon I received the reply "that my reasoning was sound but inadmissible." Indeed, I was pitied but expected to make good with legitimate money. - "There are all sorts of scoundrels in England, sir, who have cheated you. I pity you!"

My Desparate Financial Situation

Here is what was written on my Greek calendar regarding my loss of income:
- no repayment of advances I had made in carrying out the orders of a Minister
- no salary after working for four months, day and night
- no commissions on several large cuttings because 'it wasn't in the bureacracy's jurisdiction'
- no allowance for the false assignats which were used to pay me off
- non-payment of salary while I was unjustly imprisoned.

Thus exposed to ruinous mistreatment and abandoned by those from whom I had expected some help and protection, I was in dire straits when an old friend, a man of merit and endowed with prosperity and an owner of an important place, came to pass a few days with me. [To name this friend would be a breach of confidence right now because he is playing an important role.]

(211)
Let's stop here for a moment. I told him of my situation in a remote place in the forest and showed him a table of the losses in which the state control had played a major part. Here it is:
01. 6000 - For the creation of the civil list ordered by the Minister of Finance
02. 4000 - For salary promised but denied while I was in prison
03. 3000 - For expenses incurred during one year of detention
04. 2000 - For plunder made against me
05. 4000 - For loss of commissions on a sale which I had made, calculated and registered before my detention
06. 9000 - For loss of commissions on a very considerable forest the exploitation of which lasted three years and more
07. 3000 - For loss of my commissions on a wood cutting to furnish Paris with charcoal.
(These two frustrations were operated by the creation of the 'jurisdiction'
which I believe never really existed.)
08. 3000 - For loss of my commissions on a cutting which went instead to a young
wood dealer from Le Havre, who supplanted my legitimate rights by an act of the
municipality which contravened the state control. Even though I protested,
the government kept quiet.
09. 2450 - For loss on the cutting of dead trees, sold by auction which I was deprived of.
10. 7000 - For the clear theft made by the inspector when I was in prison, which was later restored to me eighteen months later without taking into consideration the devaluation of assignats; the state control, in spite of my just complaint, caused me to lose in this transaction.
Subtotal: 43450

(212)
- 43450 Carried forward from previous page.
Plus 800 - Interest paid during almost two years which was not taken into consideration.
11. 1400 - For loss on the false assignats, taken from my account although I had no means to distinguish the false from the true currency.
12. 1800 - For loss on the legal costs which were never repaid from the time of my entry until my release from prison.
13. 1500 - For loss on a deposit on mandates for which I was charged money because a notification letter was delayed ten or twelve days in the offices at Paris.
14. 360 - My trip while going to look for bread during a famine; the government refusing to reimburse me until now.
----

15. 15000 - My original bond money. I would have received the refund from it if I had had my freedom and assignats were not devalued.
16. 1500 - For two years interest on my bond money for which I paid 15000 francs in cash.
17. 4000 - For a fabricated revolutionary balance, declared false by the police liquidators, and which requiring a payment of money.
18. 300 - For eighteen months of interest.
19. 340 - For expenses required in liquidation.
20. 15 - Since I was paid only one-thirtieth in mandates being worth 715 francs, which, at 2 percent, amounted to 15 francs.
____________
Subtotal: 21155

There were other losses about which I keep silent
_________________
Total … … 70385

I often compared myself to a police horse whose fate was to be mistreated simply because it had become exhausted. The friend to whom I confided my trials in the forest said to me: "You suffered greatly by leaving a considerable balance

(213)
in your cashbox at Guise. Can you get your hands on it?" - "Perhaps, but slowly." - "Unlikely. No, the government was provided for by your bond money. Chanorier was more skillful than you. He avoided ruin by taking the money which had been entrusted to him to buy horses thus leaving his capital intact. Was he reprimanded for it, or was he refused respect? Hardly. In fact, the opposite occurred because the government employed him on his return. Having integrity during a revolution is stupid, and even the moralists say it is permissible to keep what has been stolen. Other than that I have no advice to give you, but I can offer you a little pension." It was a very meaningful conversation, however it had no lasting effect upon me. It only prepared me for another kind of outrage that was yet to come.

Mandates were being withdrawn to give way to a new currency, but the notification letter (forgotten, I know not where) didn't reach me. In this interval of transition when the new rates for the two currencies were in effect (but which I was ignorant of), I received a large payment in mandates. So what does the inspector do? He deposited them to my account at the old rate and charged me at the new rate. I appealled to him for fairness but he said, "Your claim is against a rascal who has disappeared and from whom you should have recovered the difference." When I protested that the payment was indeed made when the discount was in effect but before I had received the letter of notification, I was simply ignored.

I wouldn't believe any of these facts if I hadn't been an actor and an actual victim. It's impossible for me to quote a single instance in which the state control had been fair to me. I am, however, persuaded that if each of its members individually had wished to extend justice to me, the body as a whole could not have done so. It is clear that the rigorous right ['jurisdiction''] was only an excuse created to oppose me by a power which did not like to see fair restitution. Furthermore, the state control went far beyond its mandate when it allowed an ordinary wood dealer to turn its operations upside down thus causing its civil servant to tremble

(214)
by depriving him of his rightful income.

Pondering Injustices Done to Me

All this I have been pondering and I say further that a man, intrinsically wise but who allowed himself to be seduced by a malevolent person, was not able to convert me to his religion of persecution and who... peace, my memory! If I keep thinking like this I would have perplexity that would surpass all that I have experienced in these troubled times. Indeed, I have experienced abuse of authority; denial of justice; complete rejection; refusal of salary; responsibility without wages; abandoned by those who made me work; deprived of everything; obliged to travel eighty leagues to fetch a little bread; leaving prison sick and infirm at the age of sixty-three. And what was my crime? To have dedicated my time, my work, my fortune and my life to others - even those who refused to help and protect me.

To them I was nothing but a pawn in a game primarily about tyranny and secondarily about hatred; blurred by a state control which could have fixed some of my problems by offering a little boost or simply three little words. But the boost never came, and the three little words was asking too much. So I did what was necessary to become free. Some say I had a rebellious personality but I would say that courage is badly judged by those who are cowards. That's why every day I meet people who don't even dare look me in the eye. But there are also leaders, unfortunate people, and women who were grateful for my efforts.

If anything consoles me in my old age, it is to have had occasion to do good; to be able to live with my conscience; to enjoy without bitterness this peace of mind which makes solitude delicious; to have some talents which have now become a source of pleasure; to have left everywhere I went the trail of a just and honest character; and finally, ownership of a worthy reputation.

Belated Appreciation

Having served the company for thirty six years, here is the last letter which it wrote me.

"We have been touched, sir, in the generous way in which you undertook

(215)
the defence of our unfortunate employees, and the courage which you showed in various circumstances that were as precarious as they were delicate. We therefore have the pleasure to state that your complaint for discounts of assignats was favourably received by the Minister (then Monsieur Tarbé), and we congratulate you by attaching a 3000-franc bonus which will help cover some of your losses.
"The total will form to your profit a sum of 6326 francs which you will find herewith, along with authorization to deposit this sum to your final account, a detail which is hereby attached.
"It is pleasant for us to have found the occasion to express to you our respect and our esteem."
Signed Puissant, Saint-Amant, Couturier

I have twenty such documents which are of interest to me. They are sufficient for my heart which has absorbed the disapproval and abuse of multitudes, and they wipe out the condemnations of leaders which lie at the bottom of my soul. While others were running around these idols, competing for their benevolence, carrying bouquets to them, they stabbed me for everything! I met many actors of this sort, and I always laughed at the fawning motive which made them behave as they did. (If I had done it even once, it would have been a satire, and I know what would have followed.)

There was a question of erecting a Pyramid at Saint Germain. No place in France was considered more suitable because of its immense premises, healthy air, and magnificent walks which caused movement to return to a depopulated city. All the possible advantages for this project came together and I asked for the management of it. Here is the response of His Most Serene Highness Monseigneur l' Architrésorier of the Empire.

Your letter, my dear companion in misfortune, gives me many regrets since I still have not received your

(216)
qualifications in the area of the arts and sciences. As for the desire that you express, please believe me that if we go ahead and establish a Pyramid at Saint Germain, I shall be most pleased to recommend you for the position which you seek and deserve a thousand times.
I greet you with all my heart.
LEBRUN

Having become a writer, I had just completed a rather happy journey in England where I began to enjoy the charms of independence, when the lightning bolts of misfortune once again fell upon me. In rapid succession death struck my sister-in-law, then my wife, then my brother, then all my friends and contemporaries.

My Sister-in-law

My sister-in-law was less beautiful than my wife, but more lively, slimmer, generally more attractive and well-endowed with grace, charm and a sensitive spirit. She had an uncanny sense of discernment which enabled her to unerringly find the defective points within false reasoning. Not the slightest bit of nonsense ever escaped her, and it never failed to lead to a wise comment. She was the most sensitive of girls, gentlest of mothers, and the most delicate of friends. Misfortune did not need to announce itself to her; she foresaw everything. Modestly she did what she could to brush aside the deep admiration I had for her. I made a portrait of this venerable sister according to a silhouette, done from the heart. Here is the verse which I placed at the base of her portrait.

Along with the rarest of virtues, wisdom and taste.
The sky combined in her a noble judgment;
She was modest in spirit and reason was her guide,
And without aspiring to anything special,
She was right in everything that she perceived.

My Wise and Beautiful Wife

As for my wife, all the virtues were united in her. In the course of her life she never once distorted the truth, and even her own mother admitted that to me in her presence. Never did she make an error in judgment, neither did she ever miss an opportunity to be of service, neither did she ever speak ill of another or laugh at a sarcasm. Her reputation was such that even the most violent revolutionaries respected her.

In domestic disputes, we deferred

(217)
to her decision but she was oblivious of her own qualities as a judge. Even if one tried, it would be impossible to be more modest than she was. Indeed, she was an angel by her sweetness but endowed with an immense will. Never did she complain about anything. [She said as Cranier did, "Why pity me when I suffer only troubles that are common to everyone?"]

A rare talent she possessed was to listen and not contradict anybody. Usually she would propose her own ideas tentatively, but always by placing the truth next to the false. Thus one was always forced to adopt her opinion. Since I was born restless, she thus prevented me from making many journeys without once contradicting me. She talked with spirit, but discussion displeased her because one would normally end it by going away and not listening to her any more. It wasn't possible to have more beautiful features: a mouth more laughing; a more artful and noble forehead. Smallpox ravaged this beautiful figure at the age of forty. She didn't want a doctor, but driven by the rightness of her judgment (and with the approval of one whom I secretly consulted) all that she wished for was done as well as possible and with, naturally, the most sensible of results.

I had her portrait in a round frame, painted by Peters, but the looters of the revolution had stolen it from me. With only a silhouette to work from, and my memory, I happily succeeded in painting her portrait. Here is the verse which I drew from my heart and placed at the base of her portrait...

To know her was to love her;
Beautiful, prudent and wise,
Never did she say a single superfluous word;
Beauty was her privilege
And virtue was her guide.

My Brother

My brother, old boy, was a man with a great deal of spirit and originality. He was full of fire and imagination. Ideas poured from this source which were neither grandiose nor silly, but they were pleasant ideas full of salt.

(218)
He had an incredible faculty to verify things and had a stamp which always made him recognizable. >Never was there a more virtuous and humane individual. This latter quality, to him, went to the point of prodigality. He often gave away things that seemed incredible. He would parody the "Illiad", and a substantial number of academics have seen this work. All agreed that nobody other than him took further the art of giving a comic form to its most sublime ideas.

My Sister

After so many losses, I would have considered myself all alone in the world if it weren't for my sister (older than me by seven years) who had a loving nature and was endowed with all the moral and social qualities which gave rise to her kindness and virtue. My current joy consists in spending a part of my summers with her.

Why will circumstance not allow me to finish my days in the place where she lives? The respect (I dare say) and esteem which she enjoys would rub off on me. I have, moreover, nephews and great-nephews until the fourth generation who love me, and for whom I have the greatest friendship. However, a single reflection suffices to push aside this pleasant picture of happiness. Alas! My fear was well-founded. I have just lost this gentle sister. She finished her life like a lamp, by casting out beams of light. She was 85 years old.

It remains for me to mention...

[Translator's Note:
And so, in mid-sentence, ends the memoirs of Isaac Mathieu, the last Crommelin in France. I wish to express my deep appreciation to Maryse Trannois of Saint Quentin, France who laboured to take digital photos of each page of these memoirs and then set about typing the entire manuscript so that I could run the text through various translation programs on my computer. The entire project took place between May 2002 - April 10, 2003. Bravo, Maryse. Bravo, Isaac!
Milfred Crommelin,
Mission, B.C., Canada]