Friday, 29 January 2021

An interview with Jean-Clément Martin

Here is a translation/ summary of an interview with Jean-Clément Martin published last year in the Italian magazine Historia Magistra.  J.-C. M reflects on his career and some of the major themes of his work.

How did you become a specialist on the French Revolution?

J.-C. M:  In 1978 I began work on a thèse d’Etat [an advanced Doctorate] on the wars in the Vendée.  I was a teaching at a lycée in Nantes at the time.  My previous research, under Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie, had been a quantitative study of  bankruptcies in Les Deux Sèvres in the 19th century. I found that incidences of bankruptcy did not simply reflect business failure, but were used by the business community to regulate membership and to curb innovation.  Twenty years later I brought this insight to a study of rape in the Vendée in the 19th century based on legal dossiers. In the 1830s and 1840s, rapes were not more frequent, but new social norms encouraged the peasants of the Vendée to denounce individuals who had raped their daughters 10 or 20 years previously.

How did you progress from the Vendée to the Révolution more generally?

J.-C. M: When I took up a post in Nantes in 1978, Le Roy Ladurie advised me to work on the Revolution in Nantes, but the archive proved too disorganised for a single researcher.  A year or so later I was shocked to discover that one of my teachers at the University of Nantes participated in meetings of the Souvenir vendéen and commemorations of the wars in the Vendée; yet his course stopped at the 10th August 1792. I admit that I was also vexed by my own ignorance.

I therefore proposed to Le Roy Ladurie that I would work on the wars in the Vendée and their place in memory.  This was at the beginning of the 1980s, well before the bicentennial commemorations.  "Memory" was organised through conventional means (associations, publications) but many people also observed family rituals in which they commemorated their ancestors from the time of the wars.  As well as using archives and documents, I collected oral traditions.  I spoke to people who were in their seventies in 1980, so born between 1900 and 1910. These people's grandparents would have born between 1850 and 1860, and may have had older siblings born as early as 1840.  This meant that in the 1920s those still living could have met individuals born in 1840 who, in turn, knew individuals born in or just after the wars.


Memory was favoured by the geographic stability of the population.   Intensive dairy farming encouraged strong family structures, often with 10-15 members, centred on the male head of household.  These structures were valued by local notables and curés.  An ethos of self-sufficiency, which asked nothing of the state, placed a positive value on their predecessors' struggle against the Republican government. 

I myself comes from a Vendéen family.  My grandparents left the region and settled in an area which was nearby but very anticlerical. My researches have helped me to appreciate my own family heritage.

In 1984 the Ministry of Culture offered me the opportunity to research  migrants from the Vendée in the region of  Les Landes.  Here I found identical family structures, also similar distinctive  attitudes towards the State, work, numbers of children.  

In a paper in Les lieux de mémoire, edited by Pierre Nola (vol.1, 1984),  I characterised my work as the historical and anthropological study of  "une région-mémoire".

In the meantime I found that I  agreed less and less with what was written about the war itself.  I set myself to read systematically contemporary newspapers.  In 1793, there were risings against the Revolution in a quarter of France, notably in Brittany.  The worst insurrections did not take place in the Vendée.  But everywhere else resistance was crushed.  It is significant that the Frenchmen of 1793 talked about a "war" in the Vendée, a word that was not used elsewhere.

The movement started with the victory of the insurgents against Revolutionary troops sent from La Rochelle in March 1793.  This success was due to the poor preparation of the army. When the news arrived in Paris, it was viewed through perspective of the Girondin-Jacobin conflict; the Jacobins blamed their enemies for the defeat.  Events were read in the Convention as a "war", though the situation did not really justify the terminology:  a competent general with well-disciplined troops could have restored order in a few months.  But the Revolutionaries escalated the stakes; they demanded action which was symbolic rather than realistic:  the whole of French must punish the Vendée.  Hence troops were sent to the region from all around France, that hated each other, were useless, failed militarily and fanned the flames of war.

As long as there wasn't a well-organised central power, the war in the Vendée was allowed to develop. The symbolic edge made the battles more and more important, more bloody, and the political discourse more and more radical.

What were the demands of the Vendéens themselves?

J.-C. M: The Catholic and Royal Armies fought to defend their churches and their property, not to restore the Monarchy, even though they sometimes invoked Louis XVII.  The situation was the same in Brittany, Alsace, the Basque country and the Massif Central;  it was just that the royalist armies were victorious south of the Loire and not elsewhere. In the summer of 1793 the sans-culottes steered the Ministry of War against the Convention, exacerbating the weakness of the Republican armies.

This internal conflict between groups of Revolutionaries is an essential factor, often minimised by certain of my colleagues.  At the outset troops of sans-culottes were sent out who were badly trained and out of the control of the Convention.  The result was extortion, rape, massacre and pillage.

The particular contingencies of the military situation permitted the Vendéens to resist until October, when they were crushed at Cholet.  The sans-culottes at this time lost their power and were no longer able to rival the deputies of the Convention.  In December 1793 the Convention established "revolutionary government", suspending the constitution and the exercise of democracy;  power was centralised and the nature of the Revolution itself changed.

The "classic" history of the Sorbonne insists on the unity of the Revolution and on the will to defend the Revolution, against both external and internal enemies, which came to a peak in 1793.  I do not find this.

My interpretation emphasises the interplay of forces and reappraises the effects of the fall of Robespierre and the start of the Directory.  In 1793 and at the beginning of 1794 the State was contested and the Convention torn between different factions.  However, the war in the Vendée facilitated the elimination of the Girondins, then the sans-culottes to the profit of the Jacobins - who finally also eliminated the "robespierrists".   I thus traced a trajectory which led me to consider the history and  memory of the Revolution as a whole.

Why do you reject the idea of a "genocide" in the Vendée,  when you yourself have shown that there were more victims than previously admitted?

J.-C. M: There was no genocide, even though 200,000 died.  The idea of a genocide in the Vendée has been around a long time, but came to the fore in 1985 when Reynald Secher defended his thesis, directed by Pierre Chaunu.  The media seized on his work up immediately as an absolute revelation disproving the official history, which had long neglected the Vendée.  He was taken up by the press - notably Le Canard enchaîné - and television; on eve of the bicentenary,  it seemed a propitious moment to condemn the Revolution as the antecedent of the gulags, and of Nazi and Soviet totalitarianism.

A similar thing happened in Italy on the 150 anniversary of unification;  here "neo-bourbons" historians uncovered a "genocide" by the army of Savoy in Southern Italy, which had not been much talked about before.

It is no coincidence that this talk of genocides began in the 1970s and '80s.  This was the period of crisis in Marxism, of the discovery of the genocide in Cambodia, and of Simon Leys's denunciations of Maoist China.  Hannah Arendt died in 1975 and her theses were taken up, notably by François Furet.  I was still working with Le Roy Ladurie and was close to Furet.  Thanks to him, I was leading a seminar at the École des Hautes Études. on the Counter-revolution. However,  I opposed the thesis of genocide and distanced myself from Furet.  When you look at the sources closely, there is no evidence for a "genocide" which supposes a system to destroy an entire population. The Convention gave funds to  refugees in the Vendée and protected the property of recognised Republicans.  The Revolution wanted only to exterminate its enemies, the "brigands de la Vendée"

I am not contesting the validity of debate over the question of genocide, which is worth posing as it promotes reflection.  There was no genocide, but there were war crimes, even crimes against humanity.  

Can one use the concept of "war crime", which was not admitted at the time?

J.-C. M: History itself is anachronistic.  It is mediated by our present-day concepts.  This worries me less when one notes that military regulations of the period stipulated that soldiers caught committing rape must be tried and executed.  The laws of war at the time anticipated our later preoccupations.

We can speak of massacres, but not of genocide. 

"Le Dernier Panache", a show at Le Puy de Fou based on the life of Charette

To resume the story of my career, in the Vendée I became interested in the Puy du Fou theme park, which was created in 1977.  I myself had been responsible for an exhibition on the memory of the wars  under the regional museum director Francis Ribémont, but I played no part part in Philippe de Villiers's design team. In 1984 Villiers was invited to appear on the programme Vive la crise introduced by Yves Montant: the French public discovered a modern entrepreneur making his mark in the cultural sphere. He gave an image of commercial success.  In 1991, with a colleague who was a sociologist, I published a book on the Puy du Fou [Le Puy du Fou en Vendée, l'Histoire mise en scène (en collaboration avec Charles Suaud), reissue L'Harmattan, 2000].  By this time it had ceased to be the project of an organisation of volunteers and had become a commercial concern with diverse employees.  The book led to several démêlés with the Association du Puy du Fou.

In 1987 I defended my thesis and in 1989 I published a book on the memory of the Vendée which covered the period 1800 to 1980.  I have since updated my study to take account of the fact that after 1989 the situation changed completely, particularly through the influence of Philippe de Villiers in the 2000s .

How do you explain Emmanuel Macron's visit to the  Puy du Fou during his presidential campaign in 2017?

J.-C. M: The message was ambiguous;  Villiers has transformed the local economy of a rural department with modern technological industry.  He is a great communicator and has attracted many celebrities. Macron was certainly testing out the possibility of forging links with the right.  However for the past two decades Villiers has only been on the margins of Vendéen politics, despite his media importance.  I have not observed any real links between Villiers and Macron.

You have written that the work of the historian requires the exercise of asceticism ["un relève de l’ascèse"]?

The idea that the study of history demands "asceticism" doesn't quite translate into English. J.-C.M. seems to have in mind an combination of intellectual rigour and abstinence from personal bias.

J.-C. M:   Firstly, it is not easy to teach the history of the Revolution.  I have written several works of popularisation and it is extremely difficult to convey complex ideas.  In 1990 school textbooks presented the war in the Vendée with one page devoted to me and another to Secher and the idea of genocide.  A true  understanding of what happened  has taken several decades of publications.  Colleagues in the classic tradition have asked me to give a total death toll for the Revolution, something which  would have been impossible twenty or forty years ago, when such questions were the exclusive preserve of the Right.


Secondly, I have participated in conferences on the Revolution and the Vendée in the widest possible range of political settings, from extreme Left to extreme Right; but I have always used the same vocabulary.  The massacres of the Vendée were neither a genocide nor "legitimate vengence".  My position has satisfied no-one - but  a historian can no doubt never be popular.

Thirdly, technical "asceticism" means one should never arrive at an explanation without considering the full complexity of the evidence.  Thus a public speech must be examined not only for overt content but for context and underlying intent. 

We must always remember that the "mentalities" of the Revolutionary era were very different from our own.  For instance, what were the aims of the sans-culottes?  Were they harbingers of political modernity? Viewed close up, I see individuals defending community interests, with a millenarian perspective which was very archaic.  They had habit of violence and were formed by inherited beliefs.  They  did not belong to the world of the Enlightenment but to the universe of popular tradition.

I found the people of the Vendée to be in fact very similar.  They were archaic, communal in outlook, influenced by superstition, and with no concept of the modern state.  They believed in a "pact" between the people and the sovereign: when the sovereign broke the pact, they rose against him;  it was no more complicated than that. This was not the revolt of one part of France against another: it was a revolt by people who did belong to the nation at all against the Modern French state.  Yet those who opposed them had scarcely more notion of a national community; they too were defending themselves against foreigners.

What is the connection between the Terror and terrorism?

J.-C. M: The word "terrorist" was born in September 1794.  It was used for the followers of Robespierre, the participants in  "the Terror", as defined by the Thermidoreans.  They suffered a brutal repression - at least 2000 were killed in Paris and in the Rhône Valley.  Under the Directory, Left-Wing radicals, viewed as terrorists, were suspected a priori of advocating political violence. Some (Babeuf, Buonarroti) went underground.  After 1796 the Left attempted to recreate Republican circles throughout France.

The word "terrorist" was not use before this time, and it is not known who invented it.  Its meaning changed radically in the 1820s.  This was the period when memoirs of the Revolutionaries were diffused by the Carbonari/Charbonnerie, notably in Italy.  The word "terrorist" was then used for those who tried to "terrorise" public opinion.  A Left-Wing tradition which lasted through the Empire, was favoured by the Hundred Days, continued under the Restoration through  "Republican banquets", then through the Charbonnerie.  All these currents saw themselves as Republicans but not Robespierrists.

As to Robespierre himself, it was not until the 1850s that he began to acquire a positive image, notably through the work of Louis Blanc. Robespierre then became a romantic hero, embodying the idea of individual action.

Thirty years after the Bicentenary, what place does the Revoluton have in political discourse and the teaching of history in France?

J.-C. M: 
The bicentenary itself was a failure.  I had no desire to attend Jean-Paul Goude's parade on the Champs-Elysées.  To me, this pseudo-commemoration was indecent since it stopped short at December 1789.  Mitterand did not want to acknowledge the September massacres of 1792 but he allowed a completely distorted  commemoration of the Battle of Valmy.   The celebrations were adapted by  different agendas.  The Left transformed 
Trees of Liberty into "Trees of Ecology" whilst the Right observed classic Counter-Revolutionary commemorations.  I felt that the result was not really positive.  The great outpouring of books and entertainments on 1789-1790 hasn't had much lasting legacy.  In contrast, I found great significance in the wave of courageous commemorations which took place in the West to remember the wars of the Vendée; these took place without taboo or propaganda - I participated with much conviction.

Ironically, I think that the principal result of the Bicentenary has been a media saturation.  This has  benefited younger scholars, aged between 30 and 40, who can work peacefully on the subject without editorial pressure.  Maps have been redrawn.  Links between European and extra-European historiography have been consolidated.  One unexpected example is in China, where the death of Mao  led to a "normalisation" of scholarship; Chinese historians became interested in the politics of Thermidor at the same time that we did in France!

The interest offered by the study of history is to understand how we live today.  Since 7.11 "Terrorism" has become synonymous with the Twin Towers.  The world, its imagery and symbols change rapidly.  I was involved in the production of Assassin's Creed Unity, which has been played by 10 million people.  Mélenchon, the leader of the Insoumis, took up cudgels against Ubisoft in the name of French tradition.  He has forgotten that this is a game for the worldwide market, created according to American/Canadian expectations - regrettable as that might be.  

And in the discourse of French politicians?

J.-C. M: There is an awareness in political reference that the Revolution gave France not only the "Rights of Man" but also the guillotine.  Only Mélenchon still sees Robespierre as a pure romantic hero. At the other end of the spectrum extreme Royalists count for little, even in the ranks of the Right. 

Are the gilets jaunes the new Revolutionaries?

For me this is just figure of speech.  I am always dismayed when politicians talk about "cahiers de doléances" - these were huge failures in 1789, piled up and never even opened.  Perhaps the gilets jaunes are better seen as part of a French popular tradition of protest?  The people have always opposed "les Messieurs". We are seeing a revolt like that of the Nu-pieds (1639) or, more recently, the Bonnet rouges (1675 or 2013). Analogies with the Revolution just shows a  lack of historical understanding.

The fundamental question posed by the French Revolution, is the relationship between legality and legitimacy. The attack on the Bastille was totally illegal but it was given legitimacy.   In 2019-2020 the gilets jaunes acted illegality, believing they had a legitimacy, which public opinion debates with them. 

The Institut de l'histoire de la Révolution has been closed.  Does this suggest a lack of interest in the Revolution?

The Institut disappeared for administrative reasons, as as result of rivalries between different centres.  What concerned me was the lack of any political move to save it; in fact there was a political preference for the new centre devoted to the Republic at the École des Hautes études. The lack of professional co-operation is worrying. I attempted to create an Institut Révolution-Empire but this initiative failed.  The IHRF Library is protected by influential individuals for the present, but risks dispersal in the future.  Universities concerned with the Revolution spend more time in-fighting than co-operating.  In 2020  output on the Revolution has been dominated by popular histories, novels and comic-books.


Parler de Révolution: entretien avec Jean-Clément Martin réalisé par Alessandro Giacone pour la revue Historia Magistra, 2020, N°32.  [Reproduced  by J.-C. M. on his blog]

Monday, 25 January 2021

Prisoners of the Maison des Oiseaux

The following account of the Bonnet-Rouge's prison in the Maison des Oiseaux is taken from the memoirs of Voltaire's great-nephew Alexandre-Marie-François de Paule de Dompierre d'Hornoy (1742-1828), former conseiller maître of the Chambre de Comptes. The manuscript was published with an introductory essay by Guy Périer de Féral in the Mémoires of the Historical and Archaeological Associations of the Ile-de-France in 1952.


Portrait said to be Hornoy de Dompierre by Quentin La Tour
(Périer de Féral, p. 110).

In 1794 even a relative of Voltaire had no guarantee of immunity from detention.   Hornoy was arrested on night of 19-20th April 1794 at his father-in-law's property, the château de Monthuchet, near Saulx-les-Chartreux, a full twenty kilometres outside Paris. Local officials were accompanied by two roving representatives from the Bonnet-Rouge section, one of them none other than Piccini, the "ardent admirer" of Voltaire.  Hornoy was told he had been denounced, though he himself considered he had been arrested simply because he was a former nobleman and magistrate (p.168) 

Piccini and his companion Ballière gave Hornoy his choice of prison. He was tempted by the Luxembourg, where he had friends, but in the end chose the Maison des Oiseaux ("my lucky star made me change my mind"). His custodians boasted of its fresh air and garden. He was allowed to take a servant and advised to "bring money", which led him to conclude that the regime would not be too harsh. (p.169) 

The Maison des Oiseaux

Hornoy goes on to describe the circumstances of his detention.  He relates how the Revolutionary Committee of the Bonnet-Rouge section had at first held its detainees in the former barracks in the rue de Sèvres, then in March 1794 acquired a new, much grander location, the so-called Maison des Oiseaux.  This vast hôtel was situated on the corner of the boulevard des Invalides  next to the barrière de Sèvres. It was, writes Hornoy, a large, attractive house, built with more magnificence that good taste.. (p,170)  Pleasant and airy, it boasted a substantial garden.  In the early 1790s the property had belonged to the Mory family - in August 1792 Antoine de Mory had given Marie-Antoinette's valet Joseph Weber refuge there.  No-one was quite sure how the Bonnet-Rouge had subsequently acquired it;  Horney supposed that the new proprietor had leased it to them "out of terror". 

The couvent des Oiseaux in the 19th century, Engraving in the Carnavalet

In the 19th century the building belonged to a congregation of Augustinian nuns. It was completely demolished in 1909. 

The Maison des Oiseaux in 1909 (Guy Périer de Féral, p.132)

The regime of the Oiseaux differed considerably from that of a ordinary prison. According to Hornoy, since the members of the Committee wanted primarily to turn a profit, they encouraged their detainees to regard the house not as a prison but as a "maison de sûreté" (p.171). The scale of charges was two to twelve livres a day.  It seems that a veneer of respectability was maintained.  Hornoy comments wryly that, although Montesquieu made virtue the principle of Republics and honour the principle of Monarchies,  the Republican gaolers, like valets of old,  took great pride in the arrangement of the house. The Committee retained a concierge, lodged on the premises who cleaned and rendered services to the inmates. He was assisted by a clerk, and had several porters and custodians under his orders.  The exterior guard was furnished by the municipality and paid three livres a day.

For most of Hornoy's time at the Maison des Oiseaux the concierge was Dorigny, "a man who had neither a good enough head, nor a bad enough heart for his position". 

Accommodation, food, cleanliness, health

Prisoners were allowed to chose their preferred lodging place in the house, united with family and friends. Compared to conditions in the former Maison d'arrêt, they were well provided for: each room contained only two, three or four people.  The law of 17 September allowed inmates to bring in necessary furniture. Living areas could be cordoned off with screens. Hornoy himself took up residence in the long gallery, 66 feet by 12 feet,  vaulted and furnished with skylights, which had formerly served as a picture gallery and library.  Here the detainees stored their possessions in cupboards which had once held books and set up their beds at the feet of plaster Muses.

According to Guy Périer de Féral, surviving dossiers contain requests for bedclothes, linen, clothing and the like.  Although certain prisoners brought their personal servants with them, it seems these were relatively few in number - Hornoy describes the solace of housework to those little accustomed to such menial tasks.

At first meals were supplied from outside. Inmates made their own arrangements - either food was brought to them from home or a agreement made with a traiteur (p.172)  Food could be reheated on stoves in the house.  However, by the Spring of 1794 orators in the sections had begun to voice criticism of the food wasted in the prisons: the accused were seen to be better fed than the sans-culottes at the front. As a result, rom 8th May onwards the prisoners had their money confiscated and were allotted 50 sols a day for food.  In July this was given directly to the cooks employed by the Maison itself. This seemed to give the lie to any fiction that those held were pensionnaires rather than prisoners.

To men and women from the higher echelons of society, the standards of cleanliness at the Oiseaux, although better than many other establishments, left a great deal to be desired.  Hornoy complains that "chaises" were installed ad hoc. Inmates were at least allowed to wash and attend to their personal care, though it pained them greatly not to be able to maintain their standards of dress. In mid May scissors and razors were seized and certain prisoners were obliged to go without shaving for eleven days.  Women were deprived of their hair pins and curling tongs.

The Committee also cared little about the health of its prisoners, which was often fragile. The elderly prince de Bauffremont, for instance, suffered all sorts of infirmities.  A M. de la Ferté was paralysed by the time he was released;  the  princesse de Tingry went blind.  Private doctors were ignored.  Health officers visited, but medicines seldom reached the sick.

Social life

Life at the Maison des Oiseaux was made bearable despite the deprivations, thanks to the freedom of circulation which was allowed in the house, and, in the first months at least, in the substantial park.  Even at a later point, when stricter rules were imposed, the detainees could not be confined to their rooms and would meet together, even in the evenings. The premises were animated by "une vie intense" -  as Périer de Féral comments, the social élite brought its routines, its way of seeing things, its inclinations.  Among those detained were some, like the duc de Choiseul-Praslin, and the chevalier de la Tremblaye, who had supported the early Revolution; but, taken as a whole, opinion was resolutely hostile to the Republic.  Society would focus around some great lady - the princesse de Tingry, the duchesse de Choiseul - who directed the conversation, "as capably as if she was in her own salon".  Hornoy evokes soirées held by candelight, in which participants would conceal their personal anxieties  to maintain a natural, amiable tone. The close knit community, with whole families imprisoned together, helped to reinforce morale and ensure strict codes of decency. With very few exceptions, the prisoners never gave way to weakness.  Even at the worst moments, when they came to fetch victims for the Revolutionary Tribunal, they retained their dignity and courage.

The Detainees

Hornoy estimated the number of prisoners at 150 and  the author of the Précis historique thought 160, though it is not clear whether this was the total or the complement at any one time. 

Although all the registers had all been lost, Hornoy's editor Guy Périer de Feral was able to use his account, plus police records, to recover the names of 133 individuals, which he included in a biographical appendix.  There were 54 men and 79 women. This imbalance in gender reflects the fact that many men had emigrated, often leaving their wives in France in charge of their properties. The general age of the detainees was high;  the prince de Bauffremont, was eighty-one, senile and kept alive only by the attentions of an ancient valet de chambre; Mme de Mailly-Flavacourt was seventy-nine,  the marquise de Quevilly seventy-eight.  Out of 95 prisoners whose age Périer de Feral established, 15 were over seventy;  20 in their sixties; 18 in their fifties; 17 in their forties; only 10 in their thirties and 10 in their twenties, plus four teenagers and a child of nine. There may have been other children who were not formally arrested but accompanied their parents: one dossier mentions the presence of a grand-daughter and her governess.

In terms of social distribution, the roll-call was impressively aristocratic.  Besides Mgr de Saint-Simon, former bishop of Agde, the prisoners included the prince of Monaco-Grimaldi, le duc de Choiseul-Praslin, the duc de Clermont-Tonnerre, Louis de Béthune, duc de Sully and the elderly prince de Bauffrement.  Amongst the women were two princesses, eight duchesses, the widow of a maréchal de France and six dames d'honneur.  There were three écuyers du Roi, a "cordon bleu", three chevaliers de Malte, a chevalier de la Toison d'or, and twenty-four other general officers; in addition: two diplomats, four parlementarians, a financier, five other administrators, plus a dress maker, a wig-maker, three male servants and five chamber maids. (No doubt there were other servants)

As Périer de Feral comments, this social composition reflects that of the wealthy élite of the faubourg Saint-Germain. Those less able to pay no doubted ended up in less well-appointed prisons, La Force or Les Carmes.

Those guillotined

It seemed at first that, since its masters preferred it forgotten, the prison in the  rue de Sèvres was  destined to escape the worst of the Terror.  The detainees consoled themselves that the carts always brought them more companions, rather than carry away their existing ones. In over six months, of 160 or so prisoners, only three were sent to execution. But by the first weeks of July 1794 no-one could count themselves safe.   This was the time  of the so-called "prison plots".  Rumours began to circulate among the Revolutionary Committees and the clubs that their prisoners were preparing to rise up and massacre the patriots. The commissioner of police Martial Herman, recommended that all the prisons be emptied.  Hornoy thought that the intention was to provoke protests in the prisons, which could serve as pretexts to murder the inmates.  On 24 Messidor (12 July 1794) Dorigny was replaced as concierge  at Les Oiseaux,  by a certain Leclerc, who had the confidence of the police administration.  The detainees were convinced that he had been placed there to prepare lists of those to be executed.

Anonymous portrait of Geneviève Ossun

On the morning of  7 Thermidor, on the eve of the fall of Robespierre, eleven prisoners were suddenly removed to appear before the  Revolutionary Tribunal. According to one anecdote, an agent of the Revolutionary Tribunal named Ducret had discovered that the princesse de Chimay was held at Les  Oiseaux;  when informed of this, Fouquier-Tinville exclaimed in surprise that he had been looking for her for three months [Blanc (1987), p.65].  Hornoy describes the arrival of the fateful carriage.  Those named first were the women:  the comtesse d'Ossun, former dame d'atours to the Queen,  then the maréchale d'Armentieres, the princesse de Chimay, the comtesse de Narbonne-Pelet and her femme de chambre, the marquises de Querhoent and de Maulévrier and finally the comtesse Raymond de Narbonne.  Hornoy recalls how the comtesse d'Ossun responded with sang-froid to the garbled rendition of her name - "It might be I she said, moving forward with a firm step." The comtesse Raymond de Narbonne movingly took leave of her infant daughter. Then came three men, the elderly duc de Clermont-Tonnerre, the former  Revolutionary general, the marquis de Crussol d'Amboise, and Saint-Simon, Bishop of Agde.

The convoy stopped at Sainte-Pélagie to pick up the former Princess of Monaco  before proceeding to the Conciergerie.  Those selected appeared before the Revolutionary Tribunal the next day, accused of conspiracy with enemies of the Republic.  The deliberation of the jury is said to have lasted nine and a half minutes.(see p.206).  The princesse de Monaco and the comtesse Raymond de Narbonne  declared themselves pregnant, but only gained themselves a few extra hours. The condemned were guillotined on 26th July 1794 at the barrière du Trône and their bodies consigned to the Picpus Cemetery. 

Dompierre d'Hornoy himself was more fortunate; after six and a half months of detention,  he found himself liberated  on 23 Vendémiaire Year II (14 October 1794)  and was able to retire quietly to his estates in Hornoy-le-Bourg in the Somme. 


Guy Périer de Féral, "La maison d’arrêt des Oiseaux, d’après les souvenirs de captivité du président de Dompierre d’Hornoy" Mémoires de la Fédération des Sociétés historiques et archéologiques de l'Ile-de-France, vol. 4, 1952

Hornoy's account of the arrests of  7 Thermidor is reproduced in Olivier Blanc, Last letters: prisons and prisoners of the French Revolution, English translation by Alan Sheridan, 1987 p.65-72

Saturday, 23 January 2021

The Section du Bonnet-Rouge and its prisons

Whatever can be imagined that is ferocious, tyrannical and inhuman, was found in the character of our commissaries, without accepting one among them
 Comment by an anonymous prisoner of the Revolutionary Committee of the Bonnet-Rouge section, 

... I once had the honour of offering you my fist to climb into your carriage.  The only service I offer you now, is to hand you up to the guillotine.
Letter to the former Duchesse de Fleury from Joseph Tosi, her former servant, member of the Revolutionary Committee of the Bonnet-Rouge.

Interior of a Revolutionary Committee. After a drawing by A.-E. Fragonard, 1797. Musée Carnavalet

I have now discovered a little more information about the activities of the notorious Revolutionary Committee of  the Bonnet-Rouge section... ..

The area covered by the Bonnet-Rouge centred on the carrefour de la Croix-Rouge (now place Michel-Debré) in the prosperous Faubourg Saint-Germain. It had a reputation as one of the most radical sections of Paris.  Several of its activists - Devaux, Gobeau, Godefroy, Millier - were members of the General Council of the Commune on 10th  August.  Adrien-Nicolas Gobeau was to be guillotined with Robespierre on 10 Thermidor.  Another member, a failed lawyer, Nicolas-Charles Pijeau-Villiers, was Treasurer of the Committee of General Security. Other individuals - Joseph Lebrun,  Louis Seguin, Lecreps and Savoy -  were  known agitators,  "patriotes très decidés", in the orbit of  Hébert and Vincent.

The Revolutionary Committee of the section,  however, seemed primarily intent on making a profit from its situation. The sweeping powers of arrest and detention laid down in the decree of  17 September 1793  offered the opportunity.  Every authority which had the right of arrest acquired a vast "depot" to house its suspects  - the municipality, the chief of police and every Revolutionary Committee. There were perhaps up to sixty such prisons. "We had arrived at that disastrous era when it was necessary to have Maisons d'arrêt everywhere, where every section of Paris jealously guarded its own, at the particular disposition of its Revolutionary Committee"(Histoire des prisons, 1797, t.III, p.89), The legislation specified  that suspects were to be held at their own expense; they were forced to pay for their board and lodging, for transportation,  even for the guard dogs.  It was, as one source has it, "une sorte de spéculation de finance assez lucrative"  (Précis, p.187-8)  The Bonnet-Rouge section was only one of several involved in similar ventures, but its activities were particularly extortionate.   The trial of 1795 revealed that the Committee had gone so far as to destroy whole sections of its register in order to conceal its illicit profiteering.  On the advise of Pijean-Villiers, more than thirty pages had been torn out of their official minutes and rebound with replacement pages.  According to the act of indictment, these were "men without probity and honour, who have deceived public faith, and covered themselves with the mask of patriotism".

The Committee ran not one but two Maisons d'arrêt.  The first, set up in September 1793 was a comparatively modest affair, the former barracks of the Gardes-françaises in the rue de Sèvres. In this damp, overcrowded and insanitary facility, inmates were charged between 20 sous and 12  livres, yielding a gross profit of well over 200 francs a day.  In March 1794  the Committee acquired a second,  more grandiose building in the rue de Sèvres, commonly known as the Maison des Oiseaux.  This was a comparatively pleasant prison with decent rooms and a garden to promenade in, but the favourable conditions came at a price.  According to one estimate the total income for this location of as much as 150,000 livres per annum; the committee admitted to  only 2,400 livres.  The lease had never been signed by the owner or his representatives (Précis, p.188).

The surviving accounts are almost exclusively by former prisoners and give little insight into the mentality of the Committee members.   The researches of Guy Périer de Féral (1952, p.136) suggest that that there was a small core of active members -  Ballière, Laloue, Laquerière, Poincelot, Tosi ,  Vernay - who carried out almost all the domiciliary visits. Jean-Baptiste Daire was in charge of the day-to-day running of the Maison des Oiseaux.  Two men of Italian descent - Tosi and Piccini, "homme de lettres" and ardent admirer of Voltaire, dominated their colleagues by virtue of their education.   Pijeau-Villiers, who did not take part in the active operations of the Committee  was an important point of contact with the Committee of General Security.  He is usually credited with organising the acquisition of the prisons and (more certainly) with the subsequent destruction of the records.

As critics pointed out,  these activists apart, the majority of the Revolutionary Committee had little previous involvement in Revolutionary affairs.  It would seem that their  primary loyalty was to their immediate confreres;  several were heard to boast that they would not defer to the Convention but act only as they, the Committee, saw fit.  The list of individuals reveals men of very humble origins. The most respectable were three painters (of heraldic arms, carriages and miniatures) who had been ruined and put out of work by the Revolution.  Other tradesmen were a chandler, a vinegar seller, a salter, a locksmith. Often such men made ends meet  by less reputable sidelines - lottery ticket sales, petty loans or running biribi tables.  Other members included two former domestic servants, a coachman, a disgraced gendarme, a street cobbler and two casual errand-runners.  Two months previously one man had emptied cesspits; he was said to have been in rags and without a sou though now he well dressed and boasted comfortable lodgings.  Some had reputations for unreliability: four had lost  positions through infidelity or fraud;  three were known drunkards. Examination of  the  surviving documents show that most were barely literate.  To such men the Revolution was a chance to invert the social order - a triumph of have-nots over  haves, the vengeance, sometimes quite literally, of servants over their former masters. Poor patriots no doubt felt they had every right to acquire riches and comforts formerly reserved for the privileged few.



1. From the memoirs of the Président Dompierre d'Hornoy.

The former magistrate Dompierre d'Hornoy was a prisoner of the section in the Spring of 1794. His account was published by Guy Périer de Féral in 1952.

The section of the Bonnet-Rouge treated patriotism as a financial expedient.  No Revolutionary Committee had shown so great a zeal for arrests.  From the month of September, the notables of the area, a large number of them rich bourgeois, had been piled up in a former barracks in the rue de Sèvres, which was small, dark and cramped.  A tiny courtyard, which received all the filth and excrement, provided the only light for rooms into which eight or ten persons were crowded.  According to the fortune with which they were credited,  inmates were charged from 40 sols to 12 livres a day for six feet of space in which to put a bed.  Old gentlemen, and women, accustomed to all the conveniences of rank and fortune, were forced to pass the winter here; they obtained stoves only on the 23rd of December.  The members of the Committee  combined with the role of host, that of gaoler.  They changed guard every twenty-four hours, when, after a general call-out, the outgoing commissary would entrust the captives to his relief.  Policing was more or less severe, words more or less gross, according to the individual concerned; the commissaries were for the most part coachmen, lackeys, cobblers and doormen. (p.170)

2. TABLEAU historique de la Maison Lazare... Où se trouve des anecdotes précieuses sur chacun des membres du Comité Révolutionnaire du Bonnet Rouge, et sur la maison d'arrêt de la rue de Sève. 

Paris, C. Forget, Deroy et chez les marchands de nouveautés, an III, - in-8, 56 pp

The writer of this anonymous pamphlet was arrested by the Committee in October 1793 and held in the original Maison d'arrêt in the barracks in the rue de Sèvres. (He was later transferred to St Lazare)   The pamphlet itself is quite rare but was reproduced in the widely-distributed Mémoires sur les prisons (1823).  

Quotes are taken from the English translation of 1826.


On the 26th of October, 1793 (O. S.), about eight o'clock in the morning, I beheld two men whom I had never seen enter my house.  By their ferocious looks, and the clubs which they carried, I suspected they were messengers of a Revolutionary Committee; and the result proved that my suspicions were correct. 

The unwelcome visitors were Rénaud and Potat, agents of the Committees of the Bonnet Rouge and the Contrat Social sections, both cobblers by trade. The writer was escorted from one committee room to the other, left under armed guard for half-an-hour, then brought home again without ever having been seen or interrogated.  The men then declared their intention to arrest him and put his papers under seals. This proved  "a matter of great difficulty for them" since they had to draw up a proces-verbal, but could not write, or at least could do no more than sign their names. They called to their aid the registrar from the Contrat Social section, a certain Robert "a man as ferocious as themselves". "Struck by the neatness of the furniture", he imagined the writer to be rich and wanted to appoint two guards to watch over the premises, though in the end he entrusted the task to the household cook.

The narrator was again taken out and forced to wait in the ante-rooms of the two committees.  Eventually Lebrun, whom he "knew from his having been discharged from the situation of adjutant of the batallion of the Bonnet Rouge", ordered him to be held until further orders in the barracks in the rue de Sèvres.

Arrival in prison

On his arrival at the prison two commissaries of the Committee of the Bonnet Rouge took down his name. These individuals were Verney and Ballière, both of whom were former coachman - Vernay had been coachman to Monsieur,  the King's brother. 

The writer now had a chance to meet his fellow prisoners.  He found himself among social equals and we soon encounter examples of the quiet courage and attractive sang-froid displayed by so many educated people imprisoned at this time. Some faces were familiar: "I recognised several amongst them who had long formed the delight of my company, by their virtues and the purity of their patriotism". A "respectable old man"offered him place in the room he shared with two others. In their three months together the elderly gentleman was to be his greatest comfort, sustaining him through  his mildness of character, agreeable conversation and profound wisdom.  The occupants of the chamber "lived like four brothers".

The prison regime 

The prisoners were supervised by a rota of commissaries from the Revolutionary Committee and guarded by sixteen armed men: "Whatever can be imagined that is ferocious, tyrannical and inhuman, was found in the character of our commissaries, without accepting one among them." (p.359)

 The narrator explains the profiteering scheme:

"More greedy for money than anxious for the welfare of the republic", the Revolutionary Committee  had "speculated in arrests" .  They had made a prison in the  former barracks in the rue de Sèvres, into which they crammed 120 to 140 persons. The prisoners were obliged to contribute towards the expenses of the guard, from twenty sous to twelve francs a day.  The writer provides the sums:  The income from the prisoners amounted to three hundred francs a day, forwarded every month on receipts from a treasurer of the Committee. The guards were paid three francs a day each, a total of 48 francs; a further five francs was spent on lamps and candles, and nine francs on firewood.  This made a total of  62 francs and hence a net profit of 238 francs a day!

The commissaries, he notes, lived well and entertained their friends in the room set aside for them. Meals of ten or twelve francs a head were nothing to them, whereas, among the detainees, "fathers-of-families" could scarcely afford the necessities of life.  As many as ten persons could be crammed into tiny rooms, some forced, in contempt of the law, to sleep two to a bed. They would be locked in their rooms at nine o'clock, irrespective of whether they were ill or infirm.

The respectable prisoners suffered acutely from the contempt and discourtesy shown them by their former social inferiors:  servants, tradesmen and indigents.  A particular flash point was noon when the change of shift gave the commissaries an opportunity to subject their charges to verbal abuse; "the most brutal and scandalous sarcasms were their ordinary language".   Wives who visited the prison were told to treat their husbands as dead, since it would be a long time before they regained their liberty.  Their  captors boasted that they would not release prisoners on the order of the Convention, but only if it suited their own ideas,  after deliberating in the Committee.

A commemoration of Marat

The pamphlet includes this striking tableau of a slightly unlikely Revolutionary celebration:

The section of the Bonnet-Rouge gave a fête to the memory of Marat, on the 2nd Frimaire.  The procession, on its return, passed under our windows, with two moveable forges in the line; the commissaries of the Revolutionary Committee took care to have them stopped opposite to us, and caused a pike and some chains to be made in our presence, insulting likewise our misfortunes by the most atrocious invectives; and the scene terminated by a circular dance, at the instigation of Lebrun and his companions, who sang the Carmagnole, point us out in derision, and exclaiming to the guillotine!   We imagined our last hour had arrived, and undoubtedly such would have been the case, if the wishes of these monsters had been accomplished...

After three weeks, a friend of the narrator's, with a police officer in attendance, brought an order to have the seals on  his property removed. The Committee refused and the friend  himself was arrested that evening. Meanwhile, loss of income obliged his wife to give notice on their apartments. She dismissed the cook, who was guarding the premises, only to find herself obliged to replace her with a sans-culotte at the rate of six livres a day.  When she refused to pay, twelve armed men arrived at her door; she was confined to a tiny room without bed or chair, despite the fact she was eight-months pregnant.  Only when her mother payed the amount owed, was she rescued.

On 30th Nivose  the writer was among a contingent of prisoners,  marched on foot through Paris under armed guard to be detained at Picpus.   Lebrun did not even allow them to gather their belongings so that some were obliged to embark without hats and in their slippers. In the event only five men were received and the author was sent back to the barracks.  However, at five that evening he was transferred definitively to saint-Lazare.

List of the Persons who composed the Revolutionary Committee of the Bonnet Rouge

The author felt moved to add descriptions of all the men on the Committee that he knew: 

I shall here add a list of their names, and the private life of each of them, that they may be known to posterity, and execrated as they deserve (p.355)

 His list more or less corresponds to Soboul's - only one of the ten condemned men from November 1794 is missing.  

Louis René Boquet, Interior of a Revolutionary Committee in 1793

Daire, a tallow-chandler, Rue de Sèvres, near the Croix Rouge, did not show himself at the section until after the 10th of August, 1792, having previously refused to perform his military duty; when called upon the authorities thought it necessary to send a company of infantry for him. He was an hypocritical bigot, who gave an asylum to the refractory priests, and made a trade of the petty lottery,  by which he enriched himself; he made a practice of opening and closing his shop as the laws on the maximum assured him a greater or a smaller profit.
[Jean-Baptiste Daire, chandler; living at 1062 rue de Sèvres;  62 years old.  Condemned by the Revolutionary Tribunal in November 1794.]

Poincelot, heraldic painter, living in the Rue de Sèvres, known in the section from the commencement of the revolution by the exactness of his service, but open to receiving every new impression, and ever ready to side with the ruling party : false, hypocritical, and glad to be paid by any faction.
[Claude Poinselot, painter; 1060 rue de Sèvres; 54 years old. Condemned by the Criminal Tribunal in November 1794.]

Lalou, a miniature-painter, living in Rue du Bac, near the Rue de Sèvres, unknown in the section previous to the 10th of August, although he was born in that quarter, and was keeper of a Biribi, (a game of chance).
[Jean, François Laloue, painter;  593 rue du Bac, 41 years old. Acquitted by the Criminal Tribunal. Denounced as a partisan of terror in Year IX.]

Laquerière, coach-painter, living in the Rue de Sèvres, opposite the Lunatic Asylum; he always detested the revolution on account of the loss of his trade; he was only known in his neighbourhood as a usurer and pawnbroker.
[Guillaume Laquerrière, coach-painter;1119 rue de Sèvres; 51 years old. Condemned by the Criminal Tribunal.]

Seguin, residing in Rue St. Placide, messenger at the corners of the streets, and night scavenger, unknown to the revolution before the 10th of August; after that period, he played almost every part in the intriguing system; was appointed commissary of the revolutionary committee, which office he exercised with every cruelty that can be conceived, taking bribes, without the least delicacy, on all hands, and soliciting them from every one he officially came in contact with;  he was afterwards placed over the distribution of coal at the Abbaye, from which he was put under arrest, and sent to the Luxembourg. It was remarked that he was covered with rags when he was first called to the revolutionary committee, but that his clothes soon changed. Neither by his dress, his abode, nor his furniture could it be imagined that two months previously be had been a night scavenger.
Louis Seguin, porter, rue Placide. in the French version his occupation is "garçon vidangeur", in other words an emptier of cesspits.

Tosy, residing in Rue du Petit Vaugirard, an old servant of the late Duchess of Fleury, was born a subject of the emperor; was unknown to the section before the 10th of August.  He was named to the Revolutionary Committee, without doubt to mortify the French, arid thoroughly fulfilled his task by the exercise of every imaginable cruelty.  One day, when some one was speaking to him of justice and humanity, he had the impudence to reply, that a good republican was not acquainted with either justice or humanity.
[Joseph Tosi, native of Milan and tutor of Italian, listed as living at 134 rue des Vieilles-Tuileries, aged 51 years. Condemned by the Criminal Tribunal].

Here is another contemporary account of this man: the writer was a young lawyer living in the Bonnet-Rouge section: 

None could be more dreadful, than the committee of  the Bonnet-Rouge section that I found myself under. The first question that the president addressed to those forced to appear before it was: "What have you done to be hanged, if the counter-revolution were to come?"

Its members were mostly former lackeys who had denounced their masters, market porters and the like.  After 9 thermidor several of them were prosecuted as thieves and provocateurs and condemned to twenty years in irons, after being exposed to view ("sur le tabouret") on the place de Greve.

Madame de Fleury, in a journey she had made in Italy several years before the Revolution, had taken a servant by the name of Tosi, whom she greatly trusted. This man had followed her on her return to France and his mistress had bestowed on him every favour.  Tosi's  extreme opinions soon got him noticed and he obtained the honour of a place on the committee of the Bonnet-Rouge.

When she was arrested, Mme de Fleury thought that she could ask Tosi to obtain the committee's permission to have some linen and clothing sent from her house. She decided to write to him.  Here, word for word, is Tosi's response to his former mistress:
"I have not forgotten, Citizeness, the time when I had the honour of offering you my fist so that you could climb into your carriage.  The only service that I am prepared to offer you now, is a hand up to the guillotine."
This letter was deposited with the Criminal Tribunal and read aloud in Court, where I myself heard it.
Memoirs of J-G-P Morice,  Revue des questions historiques, vol. 52 (1892), p.471-2.
[The flamboyent  Élisabeth Perrette DUBOIS de COURVAL was  the widow of the avocat-général Joly de Fleury. She was among those  executed on 7 Thermidor.]

Vernay, coachman of the king's eldest brother (afterwards Louis XVIII) was not known to the section before the 10th of August.  He was a patriot from necessity, cruel by nature, and was appointed commissary of the Revolutionary Committee, in which capacity he exercised all the vexatious hardships which audacity could authorise; and more particularly towards those who had known him as a coachman, and who had assisted him in his poverty.
[Etienne Vernay, aged 40 years, native of the Commune of Bel-Air, formerly Saint-Christophe, in the department of Saone et Loire.  Former a lemonade-seller, living in the rue de Sèvres. Condemned by the Criminal Tribunal]

Rein, without trade or known residence before the 10th of August, formerly seller of lottery- tickets, was sent to For-l'Évêque by his own confession, for having made false lottery-lists, and was discharged from the service of the Revolutionary Committee for dishonest practices, in removing the seals in the house of one of the proscribed.

Luthun, of Rue du Bac, messenger at the corner of the Rue de la Planche, and formerly a coal-carrier, was discharged by several masters on account of his dishonesty, and had been lodged by the Carmelite friars, to whom his wife was errand-woman. He was by habit a drunkard, without morals or principles, and was absolutely unknown to the section before the 10th of August.
[Philibert Luthun, journeyman wheelwright (?"compagnon charron"); 327 rue de Grenelle; 54 years old.  Condemned by the Criminal Tribunal.]

Olivier, a locksmith, living in Rue du Bac, only appeared in his section to be made a revolutionary commissary. He was a bad husband, a worse father, embraced any party to promote his fortune, and was a patriot from circumstances.
[François Olivier, locksmith; rue du Bac;  46 years old. Condemned by the Criminal Tribunal. Member of the cercle constitutionnel of the 10th arrondissement in the Year VI.  Listed in Year IX as "homme sanguinaire".]

Piccini, by birth an Italian, did not become an inhabitant of the section till after the month of November, 1793, and was before then unknown.  By profession he was a musician ; and was as false as the generality of his fellow-countrymen.
[Joseph-Marie Piccini, "homme de lettres";  209 rue Rousselet; 36 years. Listed as "a native of Marseille". Acquitted by the Criminal Tribunal.]
 Joseph Marie Piccini (1758-1826) was the son of the composer Niccolò Piccini.  He is credited with several comedies and in 1802 edited Voltaire's posthumous Pensées, remarques et observations.  It would be interesting to know how he escaped imprisonment in 1795.

Renaud, living in Rue de Sèvres, at the late Abbaye-aux-Bois, was a cobbler at the corners of the streets, and was unknown to the section before the 10th of August, having no fixed abode previously to that period. He was wicked, cruel, and sanguinary; a patriot from necessity; and ready to lend himself to any project for the sake of money.
[Renaud, former cobbler.  Was denounced on 30 vendémaire Year III as a member of the former revolutionary committee, but was already under arrest at that date.]

Thaer, dealer in vinegar, in the Rue St. Plaeide, known throughout the revolution as a man without character; who did evil without being conscious of it. He enriched himself by the petty lottery, which be made a trade of for a length of time.

Ledru, saltpetre-manufacturer, living in the Rue Barouillère, was unknown in the section before the 10th of August, and did nothing for the revolution. He was deceitful, cruel, and without any morals, doing all that his colleagues dictated, more particularly when the order was to tyrannize over the prisoners.

Pigeot [Pijeau] de Villiers, residing in the Rue de Sèvres, near the committee, a notary, expelled from the body to which he belonged for bankruptcy; was unknown in the section before May, 1793.  He became a modern patriot in order to procure a place, he was accused by his creditors, bankers, of dishonesty, in requiring from them a receipt of a thousand livres for only five hundred, which he had paid to them.
[Nicolas, Charles Pijeau, also known as "Villiers", former lawyer;1082 rue de Sèvres.  49 years. Born in Paris.  Treasurer to the Committee of General Security. Condemned by the Revolutionary Tribunal.According to the denunciation of 16 vendémiare, he was unknown in the section before May 1793; named president of the general assembly of the section and revolutionary commissary.  Condemned by the Criminal Tribunal and later transferred to Bicêtre. Denounced in Year IX.

Lebrun, without any fixed habitation, was expelled from the gendarmerie, or company of the centre, and afterwards from the situation of adjutant of the section to which he had been appointed.  He was habitually a drunkard, base, cruel, and cowardly; patiently suffering insults, and always refusing to give reasons for those he bestowed upon others.  As a husband he was brutal, and quarrelsome ; in his quality of member of the committee , he alone was the cause of almost all the arrests  which took place by its orders, that he might be revenged upon those who had been the means of depriving him of his adjutancy.  He was a great friend of Vincent, Hébert, Ronsin, and Henriot; and always concealed his share in every notorious act which originated with him and his colleagues.

Joseph Étienne Antoine Lebrun, 1039 rue de Sèvres, aged 63 years.   Lebrun was one of the driving forces of the section.  See Soboul (p.468):   Born in Perpignan, Lebrun came from a family of carpetmakers, and had lived in Paris since 1750.  He had been active in the Revolution from the beginning: volunteer in the National Guard battalion of the Prémontrés. vice-president of the district then of the section, elector in 1790 and 1792, justice of the peace after 10 August, member of the Revolutionary Committee. He was arrested on 19 vendémiaire Year III, accused of having intimidated good citizens and deprived patriots of '89. In Year IV he was accused of stirring up hatred against "weathy people, merchants, honest and enlightened men".  He is last recorded as having been banished from Paris in Year IX.  He was author of a set of Mémoires justicatifs.

Parrault, a Swiss, doorkeeper of Madame Narbonne Pelet, Rue de la Planche, unknown to  the section before the 10th of August, not having appeared until his nomination as commissary of the revolutionary committee, which situation he quitted for that of adjutant. So much was he addicted to drunkenness, that he once disappeared for two days, and was thought to be dead.

Baillière, coachman of a Swiss officer, was without a settled habitation, and was absolutely unknown to the section before his nomination.
[Guillaume Ballière, former domestic coachman, rentier;  990 rue de Sèvres; 43 years old. Condemned by the Criminal Tribunal]

Such were the men who disposed of the liberty  of more than three hundred fathers of families, and who made them sigh in fetters for more than a year, without having committed any other crime than that of resisting the tyrants in their persecutions. 


"Tableau historique de la Maison Lazare" in Mémoire sur les prisons, vol. 1 (1823) p.207-
translated into English as:
"Historical sketch of the prison of Saint-Lazare...containing Anecdotes of each of the Members of the Revolutionary Committee of the Bonnet Rouge (Red Cap), and of the Prison of the Rue de Sèvres.  BY *** PRISONER IN BOTH PLACES".  In The Reign of Terror: collection of authentic narratives of the horrors committed by the revolutionary government of France under Marat and Robespierre. London,  W. Simpkin and R. Marshall (1826), p.349-

See also: 
"Précis historique sur la maison d'arrêt de la rue de Sèvres" Mémoires sur les prisons, vol. 2(1823) p.187-201.

In English:

Guy Périer de Féral, "La maison d’arrêt des Oiseaux, d’après les souvenirs de captivité du président de Dompierre d’Hornoy"
Mémoires de la Fédération des Sociétés historiques et archéologiques de l'Ile-de-France, vol. 4, 1952
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