#i mean at least françoise hébert got to badmouth collot and robespierre…

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Out of interest for his wife, we invited [Desmoulins] to stop writing [Le Vieux Cordelier], telling him that he was running the greatest dangers, and that, not being able to dip my pen in blood, I was going to stop writing my journal, Révolutions de Paris. He answered me: “What are you going to do? Maybe you will write our crimes.” Which, indeed, I did. His wife arrived; he told her the subject of my approach against him. She said: “My husband would be a coward to stop his Vieux Cordelier at a time when tyranny has no limits!” “Well, I am sorry, madame,” I said to her, to predict that you yourself will be one of the victims; those who govern respect neither beauty nor kindness.” Leaving her house, I ran to her mother to tell her my fears for her daughter and son-in-law. This lady admitted to me that she could not see without pain the stubbornness of her daughter, and the influence she had over her husband, who had much less character than her.

Biographie universelle et historique des femmes célèbres mortes ou vivantes (1830) by Louis-Marie Prudhomme, volume 2, page 273-274. Prudhomme gets in a huge load of errors throughout the rest of the article (Lucile’s first name, date of birth, marriage and death, the circumstances regarding her arrest as well as Saint-Just attending Louis-le-Grand with Desmoulins and being one of their wedding witnesses) but seeing as he claims it is from he himself this anecdote originates I’m willing to give it a bit more credibility. It also fits nicely with this other anecdote, reported by both Marcellin Matton (in 1834) and Nicolas Villiaume (in 1851) who in their turn had acquired it from Lucile’s mother:

[Guillaume] Brune, afraid of the danger that Camille, his former college friend [sic], was running, came to find him and begged him, for the interest that true republicans had in him, for the love of his parents, for the tenderness of his wife, not to not further irritate the enemies that his satirical and biting wit had made him, to show more moderation in the picture he painted of the misfortunes of the times, and even to cease the publication of his Vieux Cordelier. Camille, who had initially only responded with jokes, began to justify his behavior, as beautiful as it was angry, with reasons to which it was not easy to answer.

”I admit it to you,” Brune said to him, ”I cannot help but admire you; However, be certain that with more moderation you will do real good, while by continuing you give yourself up, you immolate yourself, you lose yourself and you save nothing.”

”Do you believe,” he then replied, ”that they will dare to attack me, declare me a traitor, me and my Vieux Cordelier, and that for having requested a committee of clemency and justice; for wanting to complete and consolidate the work of our revolution? I have all of France om my side. Desenne (that was the name of his bookseller) cannot suffice for the sale of my issues. I am read, heard everywhere.”

”You are also read by Barère who recognizes himself; by Saint-Just, who promised to make you carry your head like Saint Denis.” 

”That’s true,” he replied, ”I remember it: it was a very bad joke, and my answer was much better. Have you seen my letter to Dillon? In the approach and posture of Saint-Just, we see that he regards his head as the cornerstone of the republic, and that he carries it on his shoulders with respect like a holy sacrament. Was I wrong, and do you think that for such a good joke he would want to kill me? I only ask him for one favor, and that is to wait until he has given a valid response.”

Madame Desmoulins had invited Brune to family dinner, it was served and they sat down at the table. Camille, gradually warming up, explained to him the bright future he was preparing for his homeland.

”Believe me,” he said to him, ”I am the man of the revolution. When it was necessary, I risked my life for her at the Palais-Royal. At that time they also wanted to make me worry, like you are doing today; but the nation walked with me, and I was at peace. I am still sure, with my Vieux Cordelier, to lead her in my footsteps, to respond to her wishes, to her needs; public opinion will still be my strength.”

”And if it gives your enemies time to strike you?”

”I have ready friends. Have you not heard the eloquent voice of Philippeaux? Danton sleeps: it is the lion's sleep; but he will wake up to defend my cause.”

His friend was far from convinced and repeated the same prayers to him; but Lucille, who at first had shown herself to be very sensitive to Brune's worries and fears, now shares all of Camille's enthusiasm; she notices that this interview has made him hot, she immediately puts a handkerchief on his forehead; gives him a kiss on the cheek and cries: “Let him do it, Brune, let him do it, he must save his country; let him fulfill his mission.” Then she pours her husband and Brune an exquisite chocolate with enchanting grace. When the chocolate had been served, Camille said: edamus et bibamus cras enim muriemur (let us eat and drink for tomorrow we die); while pronouncing these words of death, he affected an air of gaiety and took his child, his little Horace, on his knees. Camille had only supported his thesis because of his wife, whom he did not want to sadden for anything in the world.