#lucile desmoulins

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Frev appearance descriptions masterpost

Jean-Paul Marat — In Histoire de la Révolution française: 1789-1796 (1851) Nicolas Villiaumé pins down Marat’s height to four pieds and eight pouces (around 157 cm). This is a somewhat dubious claim considering Villiaumé was born 26 years after Marat’s death and therefore hardly could have measured him himself, but we do know he had had contacts with Marat’s sister Albertine, so maybe there’s still something to this. That Marat was short is however not something Villaumé is alone in claiming. Brissot wrote in his memoirs that he was ”the size of a sapajou,” the pamphlet Bordel patriotique (1791) claimed that he had ”such a sad face, such an unattractive height,” while John Moore in A Journal During a Residence in France, From the Beginning of August, to the Middle of December, 1792 (1793) documented that ”Marat is little man, of a cadaverous complexion, and a countenance exceedingly expressive of his disposition. […] The only artifice he uses in favour of his looks is that of wearing a round hat, so far pulled down before as to hide a great part of his countenance.” In Portrait de Marat (1793) Fabre d’Eglantine left the following very detailed description: ”Marat was short of stature, scarcely five feet high. He was nevertheless of a firm, thick-set figure, without being stout. His shoulders and chest were broad, the lower part of his body thin, thigh short and thick, legs bowed, and strong arms, which he employed with great vigor and grace. Upon a rather short neck he carried a head of a very pronounced character. He had a large and bony face, aquiline nose, flat and slightly depressed, the under part of the nose prominent; the mouth medium-sized and curled at one corner by a frequent contraction; the lips were thin, the forehead large, the eyes of a yellowish grey color, spirited, animated, piercing, clear, naturally soft and ever gracious and with a confident look; the eyebrows thin, the complexion thick and skin withered, chin unshaven, hair brown and neglected. He was accustomed to walk with head erect, straight and thrown back, with a measured stride that kept time with the movement of his hips. His ordinary carriage was with his two arms firmly crossed upon his chest. In speaking in society he always appeared much agitated, and almost invariably ended the expression of a sentiment by a movement of the foot, which he thrust rapidly forward, stamping it at the same time on the ground, and then rising on tiptoe, as though to lift his short stature to the height of his opinion. The tone of his voice was thin, sonorous, slightly hoarse, and of a ringing quality. A defect of the tongue rendered it difficult for him to pronounce clearly the letters c and l, to which he was accustomed to give the sound g. There was no other perceptible peculiarity except a rather heavy manner of utterance; but the beauty of his thought, the fullness of his eloquence, the simplicity of his elocution, and the point of his speeches absolutely effaced the maxillary heaviness. At the tribune, if he rose without obstacle or excitement, he stood with assurance and dignity, his right hand upon his hip, his left arm extended upon the desk in front of him, his head thrown back, turned toward his audience at three-quarters, and a little inclined toward his right shoulder. If on the contrary he had to vanquish at the tribune the shrieking of chicanery and bad faith or the despotism of the president, he awaited the reéstablishment of order in silence and resuming his speech with firmness, he adopted a bold attitude, his arms crossed diagonally upon his chest, his figure bent forward toward the left. His face and his look at such times acquired an almost sardonic character, which was not belied by the cynicism of his speech. He dressed in a careless manner: indeed, his negligence in this respect announced a complete neglect of the conventions of custom and of taste and, one might almost say, gave him an air of ressemblance.”

Albertine Marat — both Alphonse Ésquiros and François-Vincent Raspail who each interviewed Albertine in her old age, as well as Albertine’s obituary (1841) noted a striking similarity in apperance between her and her older brother. Esquiros added that she had ”two black and piercing eyes.” A neighbor of Albertine claimed in 1847 that she had ”the face of a man,” and that she had told her that ”my comrades were never jealous of me, I was too ugly for that” (cited in Marat et ses calomniateurs ou Réfutation de l’Histoire des Girondins de Lamartine (1847) by Constant Hilbe) 

Simonne Evrard — An official minute from July 1792, written shortly after Marat’s death, affirmed the following: “Height: 1m, 62, brown hair and eyebrows, ordinary forehead, aquiline nose, brown eyes, large mouth, oval face.” The minute for her interrogation instead says: “grey eyes, average mouth.”Cited in this article by marat-jean-paul.org. When a neighbor was asked whether Simonne was pretty or not around two decades after her death in 1824, she responded that she was ”très-bien” and possessed ”an angelic sweetness” (cited in Marat et ses calomniateurs ou Réfutation de l’Histoire des Girondins de Lamartine (1847) by Constant Hilbe) while Joseph Souberbielle instead claimed that ”she was extremely plain and could never have had any good looks.”

Maximilien Robespierre — The hostile pampleth Vie secrette, politique et curieuse de M. J Maximilien Robespierre… released shortly after thermidor by L. Duperron, specifies Robespierre’s hight to have been ”five pieds and two or three pouces” (between 165 and 170 cm). He gets described as being ”of mediocre hight” by his former teacher Liévin-Bonaventure Proyart in 1795, ”a little below average height” by journalist Galart de Montjoie in 1795, ”of medium hight” by the former Convention deputy Antoine-Claire Thibaudeau in 1830 and ”of middling form” by his sister in 1834, but ”of small size” by John Moore in 1792 and Claude François Beaulieu in 1824. The 1792 pampleth Le véritable portrait de nos législateurs… wrote that Robespierre lacked ”an imposing physique, a body à la Danton,”supported by Joseph Fiévée who described him as ”small and frail” in 1836, and Louis Marie de La Révellière who said he was ”a physically puny man” in his memoirs published 1895. For his face, both François Guérin (on a note written below a sketch in 1791), Buzot in his Mémoires sur la Révolution française (written 1794), Germaine de Staël in her Considerations on the Principal Events of the French Revolution (1818), a foreign visitor by the name of Reichardt in 1792 (cited in Robespierre by J.M Thompson), Beaulieu and La Révellière-Lépeaux all agreed that he had a ”pale complexion.” Charlotte does instead describe it as ”delicate” and writes that Maximilien’s face ”breathed sweetness and goodwill, but it was not as regularly handsome as that of his brother,” while Proyart claims his apperance was ”entirely commonplace.” The foreigner Reichardt wrote Robespierre had ”flattened, almost crushed in, features,” something which Proyart agrees with, writing that his ”very flat features” consisted of ”a rather small head born on broad shoulders, a round face, an indifferent pock-marked complexion, a livid hue [and] a small round nose.” Thibaudeau writes Robespierre had a ”thin face and cold physiognomy, bilious complexion and false look,” Duperron that ”his colouring was livid, bilious;  his eyes gloomy and dull,” something which Stanislas Fréron in Notes sur Robespierre (1794) also agrees with, claiming that ”Robespierre was choked with bile. His yellow eyes and complexion showed it.” His eyes were however green according to Merlin de Thionville and Guérin while Proyart insists they were ”pale blue and slightly sunken.”  Etienne Dumont, who claimed to have talked to Robespierre twice, wrote in his Souvernirs sur Mirabeau et sur les deux premières assemblées législatives (1832) that ”he had a sinister appearance; he would not look people in the face, and blinked continually and painfully,” and Duperron too insists on ”a frequent flickering of the eyelids.” Both Fréron, Buzot, Merlin de Thionville, La Révellière, Louis Sébastien Mercier in his Le Nouveau Paris (1797) and Beffroy de Reigny in Dictionnaire néologique des hommes et des choses ou notice alphabétique des hommes de la Révolution, qui ont paru à l’Auteur les plus dignes d’attention… (1799) made the peculiar claim that Robespierre’s face was similar to that of a cat. Proyart, Beaulieu and Millingen all wrote that it was marked by smallpox scars, ”mediocretly” according to Proyart, ”deeply” according to the other two. Proyart also writes that Robespierre’s hair was light brown (châtain-blond). He is the only one to have described his hair color as far as I’m aware. 

For his clothes, both Montjoie, Louis-Sébastien Mercier in 1801, Helen Maria Williams in 1795, Duperron, Millingen and Fiévée recall the fact that Robespierre wore glasses, the first two claiming he never appeared in public without them, Duperron that he ”almost always” wore them, and Millingen that they were green. Pierre Villiers, who claimed to have served as Robespierre’s secretary in 1790, recalled in Souvenirs d'un deporté (1802) that Robespierre ”was very frugal, fastidiously clean in his clothes, I could almost say in his one coat, which was was of a dark olive colour,” but also that ”He was very poor and had not even proper clothes,” and even had to borrow a suit from a friend at one point. Duperron records that ”[Robespierre’s] clothes were elegant, his hair always neat,” Millingen that ”his dress was careful, and I recollect that he wore a frill and ruffles, that seemed to me of valuable lace,”Charlotte that ”his dress was of an extreme cleanliness without fastidiousness,” Williams that he ”always appeared not only dressed with neatness, but with some degree of elegance, and while he called himself the leader of the sans-culottes, never adopted the costume of his band. His hideous countenance […] was decorated with hair carefully arranged and nicely powdered,” Fiévée that Robespierre in 1793 was ”almost alone in having retained the costume and hairstyle in use before the Revolution,” something which made him ressemble ”a tailor from the Ancien régime,” Thibadeau that ”he was neat in his clothes, and he had kept the powder when no one wore it anymore,” Germaine de Staël that ”he was the only person who wore powder in his hair; his clothes were neat, and his countenance nothing familiar,” Révellière writes that Robespierre’s voice was ”toneless, monotonous and harsh,” Beaulieu that it ”was sharp and shrill, almost always in tune with violence,” and  Thinadeau that his ”tone” was ”dogmatic and imperious.”

Augustin Robespierre — described as ”big, well formed, and [with a] face full of nobility and beauty” in the memoirs of his sister Charlotte. Charles Nodier did in Souvenirs, épisodes et portraits pour servir à l'histoire de la Révolution et de l'Empire (1831) recall that Augustin had a ”pale and macerated physiognomy” and a quite monotonous voice.

Charlotte Robespierre — an anonymous doctor who claimed to have run into Charlotte in 1833, the year before her death, described her as ”very thin.” Jules Simon, who reported to have met her the following year, did him too describe her as ”a very thin woman, very upright in her small frame, dressed in the antique style with very puritanical cleanliness.”

Camille Desmoulins — described as ”quite tall, with good shoulders” in number 16 of the hostile journal Chronique du Manège (1790). Described as ugly by both said journal, the journal Journal Général de la Cour et de la Ville in 1791, his friend François Suleau in 1791, former teacher Proyart in 1795, Galart de Montjoie in 1796, Georges Duval in 1841, Amandine Rolland in 1864 (she does however add that it was ”with that witty and animated ugliness that pleases”) and even himself in 1793. Proyart describes his complexion as ”black,” Duval as ”bilious.” Both of them agree in calling his eyes ”sinister.” Duval also claims that Desmoulins’ physiognomy was similar to that of an ospray. Montjoie writes that Desmoulins had ”a difficult pronunciation, a hard voice, no oratorical talent,” Proyart that ”he spoke very heavily and stammered in speech” and Camille himself that he has ”difficulty in pronunciation” in a letter dated March 1787, and confesses ”the feebleness of my voice and my slight oratorical powers” in number 4 of the Vieux Cordelier. In his very last letter to his wife, dated April 1 1794, Desmoulins reveals that he wears glasses.

Lucile Desmoulins — The concierge at the Sainte-Pélagie prison documented the following when Lucille was brought before him on April 4 1794: ”height of five pieds and one and a half pouce (166 cm). Brown hair, eyebrows and eyes. Middle sized nose and mouth. Round face and chin. Ordinary front. A mark above the chin on the right.” Cited in Camille et Lucile Desmoulins: un rêve de république (2018). Described as beautiful by the journal Journal Général de la Cour et de la Ville in 1791 (it specifies her to be ”as pretty as her husband is ugly”), former Convention deputy Pierre Paganel in 1815, Louis Marie Prudhomme in 1830, Amandine Rolland in 1864 and Théodore de Lameth (memoirs published 1913).

Georges Danton — Described as having an ugly face by both Manon Roland in 1793, Vadier in 1794, the anonymous pamphlet Histoire, caractère de Maximilien Robespierre et anecdotes sur ses successeurs in 1794, Louis-Sébastien Mercier in 1797, Antoine Fantin-Desodoards in 1807, John Gideon Millingen in 1848, Élisabeth Duplay Lebas in the 1840s, the memoirs (1860) of François-René Chateaubriand (he specifies that Danton had ”the face of a gendarme mixed with that of a lustful and cruel prosecutor”) as well as the Mémoires de la Societé d’agriculture, commerce, sciences et arts du department de la Marse, Chalons-sur-Marne (1862). As reason for this ugliness, Millingen lifts his ”course, shaggy hair” (that apparently gave him the apperance of a ”wild beast”), the fact he was deeply marked with small-poxes, and that his eyes were unusually small (”and sparkling in surrounding darkness”), while Chateaubriand instead underlines that he was ”snub-nosed,” with ”windy nostrils [and] seamed flats.” Mercier writes that Danton’s face was ”hideously crushed.” The former Convention deputy Alexandre Rousselin (1774-1847) reported in his Danton — Fragment Historique that Danton developed a lip deformity after getting gored by a bull as a baby, had his nose crushed by another bull, got trampled in the face by a group of pigs and finally survived ”a very serious case of smallpoxes, accompanied by purpura.” In 1792, John Moore reported that ”Danton is not so tall, but much broader than Roland; his form is coarse and uncommonly robust,” while Vadier claims that Danton possessed a ”robust form, colossal eloquence,” the anonymous pamphlet that ”he was very strong, he said himself that he had athletic forms,” Desodoards that he ”held the nature of athletic and colossal forms,” Chateaubriand that he was ”a vandal in the size of Goth” (don’t know who he’s referring to), Pierre Paganel (in Essai historique et critique sur la révolution française: ses causes, ses résultats, avec les portraits des hommes les plus célèbres (1815)) that he was of an ”enormous stature,” while the pamphlet described him as a ”gigantic orator” whose voice ”shook the vaults of the hall.” René Levasseur in 1829, John Moore, Millingen, Paganel and Desodoards all agreed with this, the first four writing that Danton possessed a ”stentorian voice,” the latter that he had ”a very strong voice, without being sonorous or flexible.” In her memoirs (1834) Charlotte Robespierre claims that ”[Danton] did not at all conserve the dignity suited to the representative of a great people in his manners; his toilette was in disorder.”

Louis Antoine Saint-Just — In Saint-Just (1985) Bernard Vinot writes that Saint-Just’s childhood friend Augustin Lejeune recalled his “honest physiognomy,” and that his sister Louise would evoke her brother’s ”great beauty” for her grandchildren (I unfortunately can’t find the original sources here). The elderly Élisabeth Le Bas too stated that ”he was handsome, Saint-Just, with his pensive face, on which one saw the greatest energy, tempered by an air of indefinable gentleness and candor” (testimony found in Les Carnets de David d’Angers (1838-1855) by Pierre-Jean David d’Angers, cited in Veuve de Thermidor: le rôle et l'influence d'Élisabeth Duplay-Le Bas (1772-1859) sur la mémoire et l'historiographie de la Révolution française (2023) by Jolène Audrey Bureau, page 127). In Souvenirs de la révolution et de l’empire, Charles Nodier (who was twelve years old when he met Saint-Just…) agrees in calling him ”handsome,” but adds that he ”was far from offering this graceful combination of cute features with which we have seen it endowed by the euphemistic pencil of a lithograph,” had an ”ample and rather disproportionate chin,” that ”the arc of his eyebrows, instead of rounding into smooth and regular semi-circles, was closer to a straight line, and its interior angles, which were bushy and severe, merged into one another at the slightest serious thought that one saw pass on his forehead” and finally that ”his soft and fleshy lips indicated an almost invincible inclination to laziness and voluptuousness.” How would you know what his lips were like, Nodier. In Essai historique et critique sur la révolution française (1815) Pierre Paganel writes that Saint-Just had ”regular features and austere physiognomy.” He describes his complexion as ”bilious” while Nodier calls it ”pale and grayish, like that of most of the active men of the revolution.” Similar to Élisabeth’s description, Nodier writes that Saint-Just’s eyes were big and ”usually thoughtful,” while Paganel instead writes they were ”small and lively.” Saint-Just was of ”average height” according to Paganel, but ”of small stature” according to Nodier. According to Paganel, Saint-Just had a ”healthy body [and] proportions which expressed strength,” while Saint-Just’s colleague Levasseur de la Sarthe instead wrote in his memoirs that he was ”weak in body, to the point of fearing the whistling of bullets.” Finally, Paganel also gives the following details: ”large head, thick hair, disdainful gaze, strong but veiled voice, a general tinge of anxiety, the dark accent of concern and distrust, an extreme coldness in tone and manners.” In Lettre de Camille Desmoulins, député de Paris à la Convention, August général Dillon en prison aux Madelonettes (1793) Desmoulins jokingly writes that ”one can see by [Saint-Just’s] gait and bearing that he looks upon his own head as the corner-stone of the Revolution, for he carries it upon his shoulders with as much respect and as if it was the Sacred Host.” In Histoire de la Révolution française(1878), Jules Michelet claims that Élisabeth Le Bas had told him that this portrait, depicting Saint-Just as having ”a very low forehead, [with] the top of his head flattened, so that his hair, without being long, almost touched his eyes,” was similar to what he had looked like.

Jacques-Pierre Brissot — The following was documented after Brissot had been arrested at Moulins on June 10 1793 — ”height of five pieds (162 cm), a small amount of flat dark brown hair, eyebrows of the same color, high forehead and receding hairline, gray-brown, quite large and covered eyes, long and not very large nose, average mouth, long chin with a dimple, black beard, oval face narrow at the bottom” (cited in J.-P. Brissot mémoires (1754-1793); [suivi de] correspondance et papiers (1912)). In Journal During a Residence in France, from the Beginning of August, to the Middle of December, 1792 John Moore described Brissot as ”a little man, of an intelligent countenance, but of a weakly frame of body” and claimed that a person had told him that Brissot had told him that he is ”of so feeble a constitution” that he won’t be able to put up any resistance was someone try to assassinate him.

Jérôme Pétion — described as ”big and fat” (grand et gros) by Louis-Philippe in 1850 (cited in The Croker Papers: the Correspondence and Diaries of the late right honourable John Wilson Croker… (1885) volume 3, page 209). Manon Roland wrote in her memoirs that Pétion ”had nothing to regret physically; his size, his face, his gentleness, his urbanity, speak in his favor” as well as that he ”spoke fairly well,” a descriptions which Louis Marie Prudhomme partly agreed with, himself recording that Pétion ”had a proud countenance, a fairly handsome face, an affable look, a gentle eloquence, movements of talent and address; but his manners were composed, his eyes were dull, and he had something glistening in his features which repelled confidence” in Paris pendant le révolution (1789-1798) ou le nouveau Paris (1798). In Quelques notices pour l’histoire, et le récit de mes périls depuis le 31 mai 1793 (1794) Jean-Baptiste Louvet reported that, while on the run from the authorities after the insurrection of May 31, the less than forty years old Pétion already had a white hair and beard. This is confirmed by Frédéric Vaultier, who in Souvenirs de l'insurrection Normande, dite du Fédéralisme, en 1793 (1858) described Pétion during the same period as ”a good-looking man, with a calm and open physiognomy and beautiful white hair,” as well as by the examination of his mangled courpse on June 26 1794, which states he had ”grayish hair” (cited in Charlotte de Corday et les Girondins: pièces classées et annotées (1872) by Charles Vatel, volume 2, page 154.

François Buzot — according to the memoirs (1793) of Manon Roland, he had ”a noble figure and elegant size.” In the examination made of Buzot’s body after the suicide there is to read that he had black hair (cited in Charlotte de Corday et les Girondins: pièces classées et annotées (1872) by Charles Vatel, volume 2, page 153)

Charles Barbaroux — his son wrote in Jeunesse de Barbaroux (1822) that ”nature had richly endowed Barbaroux; a robust and large body; a charming, fine and witty physiognomy.” In 1867, François Laprade, who had witnessed Barbaroux’ execution as a thirteen year old, recollected that ”he was a brown man - that is to say he had brownish skin, black hair and beard, reclining figure” (cited in Charlotte de Corday et les Girondins: pièces classées et annotées, volume 3, page 728)

Marguerite-Élie Guadet — According to his passport (cited in Charlotte de Corday et les Girondins: pièces classées et annotées, volume 3, page 672): ”height of 5 pieds, 5 pouces (176 cm) middle sized mouth, black hair and eyebrows, ordinary chin, blue eyes, big forehead, thin face, upturned nose.” According to Frédéric Vaultier’s Souvenirs de l'insurrection Normande, dite du Fédéralisme, en 1793(1858), ”Guadet was a man of fine height, meagre, brown, bilious complexion, black beard, most expressive face.”

Joseph Le Bon — his passport description (cited in Louis Jacob, Joseph Le Bon, (1932) by Louis Jacob, volume 1, page 63) gives the following information: ”Height of five pieds six pouces (178 cm), light brown hair and eyebrows, high forehead, average nose, blue eyes, medium-sized mouth, smallpox scars.”

Claire Lacombe — the concierge of the Sainte Pélagie documented the following about the imprisoned Lacombe: ”height of 5 pieds, 2 pouces (168 cm). Brown hair, eyebrows and eyes, medium nose, large mouth, round face and chin, plain forehead” (cited in Trois femmes de la Révolution : Olymps de Gouges, Théroigne de Méricourt, Rose Lacombe (1900) by Léopold Lacour)

Charlotte Corday — according to her passport, ”height of five pieds one pouce (165 cm), brown hair and eyebrows, gray eyes, high forehead, long nose, medium mouth, round, forked (fourchu) chin, oval face.” (cited in Dossiers du procès criminel de Charlotte Corday, devant le Tribunal révolutionnaire(1861) by Charles-Joseph Vatel, page 55)

Prieur de la Marne — a passport dated October 1 1793 gives the following details: ”age of 37 years, height of 5 pieds 5 pouces (176 cm), blondish brown hair and eyebrows, receding hairline, long nose, grey eyes, large mouth.”

Maurice Duplay — ”height of 5 pieds 6 pouces (179 cm), blondish brown hair and eyebrows, receding hairline, grey eyes, long, open nose, large mouth, round, full chin and face.” Descriptions given in 1795 and cited in Les deniers montagnards (1874) by Jules Claretie.

Jean Lambert Tallien — Both a spy report written in 1794 found among Robespierre’s papers and Mme de la Tour du Pin, a noblewoman who met Tallien in late 1793, describe Tallien’s hair as blonde. Mme de la Tour du Pin adds that said hair was curly and that he had a pretty face.

[potatosonnet]

April 1897, the catacombs with some Marche Funèbre

And other random sketches

-

In case anybody asks, Grantaire sleeps on the floor

[enlitment]

Which Underrated Woman from History are You?

Finally got around to making a uquiz featuring six of my favourite women from history! You can either get someone from the French Revolution, Roman Republic (I know, how unexpected!) or from 1700s/early 1800s.

Featuring scientists, writers, politically active icons and a few poets whose lives were intertwined with theirs, as a treat!

Enjoy and thanks everyone for sharing! ✨

[figuresinthehaze]

What a talented young man. Surely nothing bad happens to him

[historicalshroe]

[thefairyfellermasterstroke]

Guess who?

[plrle]

More saintmoulins please 😭😭😭😭

your plead shall be granted 🫶🏻

i think they would tease each other a lot :D friends to enemies to enemies w/ benefits

[historicconfessions]

[ideas-on-paper]

A brief history of Camille Desmoulins

It's March 2nd today, which means it's the birthday of my biggest writing muse: Camille Desmoulins, 18th-century journalist, French revolutionary and the man who called the Parisian people to arms, resulting in the Storming of the Bastille.

Despite essentially causing such a major historical event, Camille is largely glossed over by historians, and not many people know about him as a result. However, that doesn't mean he didn't have any influence on the revolution, and he contributed to it the same way as famous personalities like Robespierre, Danton, and Saint-Just did. So, in honor of his 264th birthday, here's a little history of the man gracing my profile pic.

The early years

Camille was born in 1760, in the commune of Guise in the province of Picardy. At fourteen years of age, he obtained a scholarship to study at the Collège Louis-le-Grand in Paris, one of the most esteemed elite schools in France. There, he met Maximilien de Robespierre, and despite the boys being two years apart in age and having very different personalities - Maximilien was more calm and secluded, while Camille was lively and impulsive - the two bonded over their mutual love for classical history and philosophy.

After graduating from Louis-le-Grand, Camille began to pursue a career in law, being admitted to the Parlement of Paris in 1785. However, his stammer and lack of connections to the Parisian legal community impeded his success, so he instead took up writing as a journalist, with a primary focus on political affairs.

The Estates-General and the call to arms

When King Louis XVI convened the Estates-General in 1789, Camille was present at the procession on May 5th, writing a comment about the event. The Comte de Mirabeau, presenting himself as a middleman between the aristocracy and the Third Estate as well as a patron for Camille, even employed the latter as a writer for his newspaper for a time.

However, the mingling of the three estates was not well received by the king, and he tried to regain control over the members who had dubbed themselves the National Assembly by closing the Salle des Menus Plaisirs where the deputies met to them. Instead, the National Assembly held their meeting in the Jeu de Paume (which was normally used as the tennis court of Versailles), where the members from various estates swore the oath to not part until they had devised a new constitution for France.

Eventually, the king was forced to relent, but that didn't keep him from concentrating his troops in Versailles and Paris. When he dismissed finance minister Jacques Necker - who was very popular among the people and considered an advocate for their interests - the atmosphere in Paris took a turn for the worse.

The Parisians were angry, worried, and in fear, and in this situation - on July 12th, 1789 - Camille took the opportunity to leap onto a table in front of the Cafe de Foy in the Palais Royal. There, he delivered a passionate speech, even losing his usual stammer in the heat of the moment, calling the people to take up arms to defend themselves against the imminent massacre of the king's troops* and put on cockades so they recognize each other.

Following Camille's example, the people took green leaves from the trees lining the Palais Royal and stuck them to their coats. However, since green was associated with the Comte d'Artois, the conservative brother of the king, the color of the cockades quickly shifted to red and blue, the colors of the commune of Paris (white was added later to represent the king, in an attempt to reconcile the factions). Bad news for Camille's leaf cockades…

*The king most likely didn't plan to massacre the citizens, but the presence of so many troops, a good deal of them foreign, made the populace very anxious.

Journalistic career and the Girondins

After being present at the Storming of the Bastille, Camille continued to be politically active, publishing radical pamphlets and newspapers such as La France Libre, Discours de la lanterne aux Parisiens, and Révolutions de France et de Brabant. He joined the Club des Cordeliers led by Georges Danton and became part of the radical leftist Montagnards, the "Mountain" party of the National Convention, consisting of members such as Maximilien de Robespierre, Jean-Paul Marat, and Louis Antoine Saint-Just.

In 1790, Camille also married Lucile Duplessis, whom he had known for several years and harbored strong feelings for. However, despite Lucile's mother being a good friend of Camille's, her father repeatedly denied the couple his blessing, being of the opinion that Camille couldn't support a family with his meager income as a journalist. (Indeed, in the days prior to the revolution, Camille often had to live in poverty due to his difficulties establishing himself as a lawyer.) After gaining popularity as a journalist, however, Lucile's father finally allowed the lovers to marry, the marriage taking place on December 29th with Robespierre, Jacques Pierre Brissot, and Jérôme Pétion de Villeneuve being present as witnesses.

However, success and bliss were not meant to last: After the massacre at the Champs de Mars on July 17th, 1791, Camille had to go into hiding, putting his journalistic activities on halt for the time being. When he took up his work again in 1792, he wrote a few papers viciously attacking the political faction of the Girondins and specifically their leader, Jean Pierre Brissot. In his works, Camille accused them of betraying the republic and counter-revolutionary acts*, which majorly contributed to the arrest and subsequent execution of many Girondin leaders, including Brissot. However, Camille came to regret his role in their deaths: During the trial, he was lamenting "Oh my God! My God! It is I who killed them!", collapsing in the courtroom when the death sentence was announced.

*The Girondins had acquired a reputation of intending to harm the revolution with their actions, on one hand due to their pro-war attitude (the war with other European empires had taken its toll on the Republic of France), and on the other hand due to the party's indecisiveness concerning the judgement of the king (some of them argued for clemency or a milder punishment).

Vieux Cordelier and downfall

After 1793, Camille had a notable change of heart, becoming one of the voices in favor of clemency instead of terror. In what would become his most well-known and popular journal, Le Vieux Cordelier, he argued against imprisoning citizens based on the mere suspicion of counter-revolutionary activities, condemning the brutality of the Reign of Terror and even directly addressing his old friend Robespierre to moderate his approach.

However, this only ended up making Camille another prime target. Robespierre initially tried to defend Camille from the Jacobin Club calling for his expulsion, but this changed when Danton's secretary, Fabre d'Églantine, was exposed for financial fraud. This cast a poor light on Danton and his allies, including Camille, and it was what made Robespierre support legally persecuting them. Charges of corruption, royalist tendencies, and conspiracy against the revolution were brought forth against them, resulting in the arrest of Camille, Danton, and the rest of the Dantonists.

The trial itself took place from April 3rd to 5th, and was obviously aimed at getting rid of the political threat that Danton and his allies posed. By decree of the National Convention, the accused were not allowed to defend themselves, in addition to being denied the right to call any witnesses. The guilty verdict, which was essentially prescribed due to the nature of the trial, was passed in the absence of the defendants to prevent unrest in the courtroom, and the Dantonists were scheduled to ascend the scaffold on the very same day.

In Luxembourg prison, Camille wrote a last letter to his beloved wife Lucile, with spots from tears being visible to this day. However, it should never reach her, as Camille was informed that Lucile had also been arrested on his way to the scaffold. He went wild upon hearing the news, and it took several men to get him into the tumbrel. Of the fifteen Dantonists guillotined on April 5th, 1794, Camille was the third to die.

Lucile, who had been arrested on the charge of conspiring to free her husband, followed him only eight days later, being guillotined on April 13th, 1794. She left behind her not even two years old son, Horace Camille Desmoulins, who was raised by Lucile's mother and sister. In 1817, Horace emigrated from France to Haiti, where his gravestone can be found to this day.

And that is the story of Camille Desmoulins: the man who ignited the spark of the French Revolution, but eventually got disgusted by its brutality, leading to his tragic end.

Camille may be a bit overlooked as a historical figure, but that does not make him less interesting or important.

So, in all due honor: Happy birthday, Camille! 🎂

[nesiacha]

Camille Desmoulins and Antoine-François Momoro

Antoine-François Momoro Camille Desmoulins

I couldn't say exactly how, but I have the impression that the printer-bookseller Antoine-François Momoro and the pamphleteer Camille Desmoulins had very opposite paths and were very different despite having similarities, if you know what I mean. Camille Desmoulins was a republican from the start, while Momoro was cautious on the matter and hesitated to publish Desmoulins' pamphlet "La France Libre" in June 1789, only releasing it on July 17, 1789. However, Momoro increasingly engaged in the revolution, eventually becoming one of its key figures and a regular at the Cordeliers Club. He was arrested after the Flight to Varennes, having signed the Champ de Mars petition. Desmoulins, on the other hand, had to go into exile. In this regard, they shared the common ground of being among the harshest critics of the monarchy, although Desmoulins had been vocal much earlier, opposing the property-based suffrage in 1789 and circulating 3,000 copies of his journal "Les Révolutions de France et de Brabant." During the Varennes episode, Momoro ensured that many issues of the Cordeliers Club Journal, which became virulent towards the king due to his escape, were distributed.

Both Camille Desmoulins and Momoro participated in the events of August 10, 1792. While Desmoulins left his mark as a key figure of July 14, 1789, Momoro, alongside Mayor Pache, inscribed the words "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity" on public buildings in the summer of 1793. Both played roles in the expulsion of the Girondins. Desmoulins was elected to the Convention, whereas Momoro, though not elected, played a significant role in the Paris Commune, overseeing supplies and soldier morale, among other tasks. He recruited volunteers from various departments and regions and was sent to Vendée alongside Charles Philippe Ronsin. Both men remained actively involved in what was considered a faction until the end, in contrast to their leaders Danton and Hébert, who were less ardent or coherent (although there were no real leaders, if you understand my point).

Their wives played more significant political roles alongside their companions than often portrayed in films. Lucile Desmoulins' journal shows her as a fervent critic of the monarchy, writing dark texts about Marie-Antoinette, approving the King's execution, and defending Camille when the future Marshal Brune asked him to temper his critiques in "Le Vieux Cordelier." Sophie Fournier, Momoro's wife, played a crucial role in her husband's dechristianization campaign, representing the Goddess of Reason armed with a pike at each ceremony (when you consider the struggle of the women of the Revolution to bear arms, in my opinion, it only demonstrates her great determination ). Both Momoro and Desmoulins had only one son from their marriages, and their wives were subject to sexist attacks, similar to Manon Roland, Louise Gély, Marie Françoise Goupil, and even Marie-Antoinette.

However, their paths diverged significantly. Initially cautious, Momoro became increasingly revolutionary, ultimately considered an ultra-revolutionary, while Desmoulins became more moderate. Momoro began to advocate for property rights redistribution, a stance not shared by Desmoulins or many Montagnards, who were moderate on this issue. Momoro supported de-Christianization, while Desmoulins opposed it. Momoro called for harsher measures against counter-revolutionary suspects, whereas Desmoulins, in "Le Vieux Cordelier," called for leniency (except for approve the mock trial of the Hébertists) and advocated for the mass release of counter-revolutionary suspects, many of whom were innocent. During the harsh winter of 1793-1794, Momoro prioritized the suffering of the Parisian masses, a concern Desmoulins did not share.

Despite this, Momoro and many considered Hébertists were sent to the guillotine. It is said that Momoro died bravely, like most of his colleagues except Hébert (his bravery was remarkable given that his wife Sophie was arrested ten days after him, and he knew she could die, yet he refused to show fear in public). Desmoulins, calm when preparing for death, panicked when Lucile was arrested (as unjustly as the arrests of the Hébert and Momoro wives) and expressed his despair all the way to the scaffold. The most horrifying part is that Desmoulins and Momoro learned of their wives' arrests the day before their execution.

My personal reflections: Honestly, I believe there is a golden legend about Camille Desmoulins, which he does not deserve, and a black legend about Momoro's faction, which is also undeserved . As I mentioned in this post https://www.tumblr.com/nesiacha/744960791081631744/the-difference-in-treatment-between-the-indulgents?source=share, in my eyes, Camille Desmoulins is highly overrated. While I do not deny his talents, I do not think he was fit for great responsibilities, unlike men he mocked, like Ronsin, Saint-Just, or Momoro, who worked tirelessly during the revolution's most challenging period. I must say in my eyes that once Desmoulins became a Convention deputy, he seemed to rest more than other revolutionaries. Consider Sonthonax, labeled a Girondin, who accepted a mission to Saint Domingue to better fight against colonizers who denied equal rights between people of color and whites, or Condorcet, who worked with Carnot on women's education with Pastoret and Guilloud, or Charles Philippe Ronsin. Many members of the Committee of Public Safety had grueling schedules in addition to their missions. Other Convention deputies, unlike Desmoulins, were sent on missions, such as Charles Gilbert Romme (and many others). While Desmoulins advocated leniency in "Le Vieux Cordelier," he approves the mock trial that led to the Hébertists' guillotining and said nothing about their wives' arrests (perhaps he planned to call for their release to be fair, but I don't know). Besides being partly responsible for the fall of the Brissotins, he remained silent on the illegal harassment Jacques Roux faced, leading to his suicide, and once said he understood the need to curb liberty for the people's salvation. Nonetheless, Camille Desmoulins should never have been arrested, let alone executed, as he only wrote articles.

In comparison, Momoro, a victim of a black legend, was clearly more honest about following a consistent line. Initially more cautious than Desmoulins in 1789, he ultimately advocated for more social rights. Despite not being elected to the Convention, he played a significant role in the Paris Commune, carrying out various missions during the revolution's most challenging period, from late 1792 to early 1794. During the Convention's invasions, he was among those who demanded vital laws for the revolution, such as the maximum or the revolutionary army's levy. His attempted insurrection was mainly due to the severe suffering of the Parisian masses in the winter of 1793-1794 and the frequent attacks on the Hébertists by the Convention (the arrests of Ronsin and Vincent in 1793), while dubious characters like Danton were free. Momoro was never rehabilitated, unlike Desmoulins, who was falsely accused of sabotaging supplies and destroying his reputation by accumulating 190,000 livres in cash, although he always refused to elevate himself, leaving behind only 26 livres and 400 livres in assignats. As Mathiez Albert, a historian harsh on Robespierre's opponents, said, "One of the main leaders of this Hébertist party, who first tried to translate and represent the popular aspirations against the wealthy bourgeois of the Convention [...] He died poor, as he had lived."

However, Momoro also had his faults, and Desmoulins was right on some points. Nothing is entirely black or white, especially among revolutionaries. The dechristianization campaigns often caused problems for the French Revolution. I understand the anger of incorruptible revolutionaries like Momoro, given the religious intolerance of that time, but intolerance cannot be fought with more intolerance. These campaigns also alienated many French people.

Moreover, if Desmoulins had dubious political allies in Danton, Momoro could be worst. He counted as an ally the horrible Nantes drowner, Carrier (Momoro didn't drown people by the way, but still a bad point for him...). Many French Revolution characters made alliances with dubious figures (like Robespierre, who knew the criticisms against Danton were well-founded but largely allied with him until a certain point), but it's still a big no for me for the alliance with Carrier. Not with one of the most hateful characters of the French Revolution. His last insurrection attempt, which led to his guillotining, was understandable, but the Convention was at a critical point and could not afford a new insurrection. Unlike Hanriot and Chaumette, he was not lucid enough on this point. He should have been more lenient with the suspect laws. Plus let's not forget that the faction call hebertist who after denunce the faction call enragés took them petition.

Even if I am harsh on Camille Desmoulins, I must acknowledge his great courage and contributions to the French Revolution, and like Momoro, he never betrayed his principles. Moreover, I fully agree with him on press freedom and often highlight his reasoning on freedom of expression. It's worth noting that Camille Desmoulins' father died shortly after his son's execution, heartbroken by his loss, just as Momoro's mother, a servant in Besançon, died a week or two after her son's death. Regardless of what one might say, both revolutionaries earned the right to be considered important figures in the 1789-1794 period.

I would like to end with two phrases these two revolutionaries reportedly said shortly before their deaths:

Momoro, during his condemnation: "I am accused, I who gave everything for the Revolution!"

Camille Desmoulins in jail : "I had dreamed of a republic that everyone would have adored."

P.S.: I have searched everywhere for a biography of Sophie Fournier, Momoro's wife. I found it in PDF and French, but I don't know its value.

Here is the link : https://www.sh6e.com/images/publications/Lettre_d_information/2023_05_Lettre_info_Sh6.pdf

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

I’m doing fine my dear maman. Send me a pocket handkerchief.

I embrace you my dear maman. I’m doing pretty well.

Good evening dear maman. A tear falls from my eyes. It is for you. I’m going to fall asleep in the tranquility of innocence.

Three notes written by Lucile Desmoulins to her mother between her arrest on April 4 1794 and execution nine days later. The last one is generally seen as a final farewell, penned down right after the death sentence had been pronounced on April 13.

[leverontdemain]

• CROSSOVER •

Les mis × Frev × 1789 les amants de la bastille

[enlitment]

Camille Desmoulins and Maximilien Robespierre – doomed by the Revolution?

a second part of the answer to the ask kindly sent by @iron--and--blood - first part can be found here

Okay, so I tried to follow the sources and I ended up missing what is arguably the key question. I think that there is enough evidence that warrants seeing Camille and Maximilien’s relationship as a ‘friendship torn apart but the revolution’, but could it in fact be something more that the chain of events of the mid-1790s ended up destroying?

(aka the good old “were they gay?” question)

It’s probably not surprising to anyone that there is no conclusive evidence that would suggest that either of them was definitely queer or that they were involved in some kind of a relationship. For context, the French Constitutional Assembly did decriminalise homosexuality, since there was simply no mention of private same-sex relationships it in the penal code of 1791.

Of course, there would still be a stigma surrounding queerness, seeing how France was a Catholic country – well, up to that point. On the other hand, it is also important to remember that anyone who received a higher education at that time would be well versed in classical authors (Greek and Roman that is), so they would have a framework for a positively viewed queer attraction/relationship (I'm mostly thinking of a kind of Alcibiades/Socrates vibes here. I think it sort of fits? Well it does in my headcanon anyway...). Camille especially seemed to be really into classics, making references to classical authors, history or mythology in approximately every other sentence.

CAMILLE – VICES HONTEUX AND A POSSIBILE BICON

If we consider Camille, I think it is clear that he was attracted to women. I think that the historical sources show that he genuinely did love his wife - Lucile - although it may also be true he was bit of a cad. There is a whole deal with him and Lucile’s mother with whom he apparently exchanged some flirty letters? I honestly need to look into it more at some point.

That said, attraction to women of course doesn’t exclude attraction to men. The one thing that would suggest Camille might have pursued a same-sex relationships is the reference to “vices honteux“ (shameful vices), which Saint-Just claims were attributed to Camille by Danton. We also learn from Robespierre’s note that this refered to something that was ‘totally unrelated to the revolution’.

So we know it’s something that would be seen as ‘shameful’ behaviour, but nonetheless a private matter. Could it be interest in same-sex relationships? It’s of course hard to say, but the theory is not completely implausible. For a discussion about this, I recommend this article.

MAXIMILIEN – A CONFIRMED BACHELOR?

With Maximilien Robespierre, it gets a little more complicated. He was essentially a confirmed bachelor, living with a family that adored him but that was not his own (and also a dog. He had a dog.) Talk about a found family trope!

Some sources claim that he was engaged to Éléonore Duplay, but Robespierre’s sister for one vehemently denies this. It’s true that he could probably easily have married her – I can’t imagine her family being opposed to it, far from it probably – but the fact is that for one reason or another, he did not.

He also didn’t really seem to capitalise on his massive popularity among the Parisian women. (Though, to be fair, neither did Rousseau and he was… well I guess he was his own version of heterosexual.)

Sure, one can interpret that as Robespierre being a workaholic or putting the revolution above everything else, but I personally think it is very possible that he would be considered to be on the asexual spectrum by today’s standards.

That said, although France was moving away from institutionalised religion at that point, Catholic guilt could certainly play a role, especially in someone who prided himself in his moral conduct and was told to be rigid about the rules. So the possibility of him being closeted as an explanation for his lack of interest in women would also not be completely off the table.

As to Camille and Maximilien being together in some way? I think there is certainly a precedence for this type of relationship in adolescence. Seeing that they have studied together (and shared enthusiasm for classics probably), it is not impossible, though of course, it is highly speculative.

I think it is also fair to say that Robespierre went above and beyond for Camille until the last few months. That is something he probably would have not done for many other people. He actually said as much himself:

“Learn, Camille, that if you were not Camille, one could not have so much indulgence for you.“

Was it because Camille was universally liked by the revolutionaries for all the good he has done? Possibly, but I think one can also read more into it. It certainly suggests that Camille was special in some way, and the fact that Robespierre uses ‚one‘ instead of ‚I‘ does not necessarily mean he is not speaking about himself here.

CAMILLE AND MAXIMILIEN IN THE MEDIA

When it comes to media portrayal, the relationship often comes across as queer-coded - to an extent.

In La Révolution française, this aspect is more prominent between Robespierre and Saint-Just, but with some well-timed smiles and glances, it almost reads as a tragic love triangle between the three. There are some unfortunate implications however, mainly that the hints of Robespierre's queerness in the movie are implicitly associated with his descent to tyrany. Ugh. (And let's face it, a kind of effeminacy linked to villainy as well. Honestly, who thought that kind of portrayal would be a good idea? Kudos for making a historical movie about the French Revolution come across as homophobic I guess.)

Hilary Mantel straight-up makes Camille Desmoulins bisexual (ish?) in A Place of Greater Safety, though there are <a lot of> issues with that portrayal, as discussed here (watch me linking another mutual's great post! Frevblr is truly the best). Not sure how the relationship with Robespierre is presented here since it’s one of the books I’ve been in the middle of for months.

And then there’s Stanisława Przybyszewska of course. She would honestly warrant a separate post, but long story short: in her works, there is no doubt about the fact that she portrays the relationship between them as queer. She invokes the Erastes/eromenos dynamic between them (quite explicitly, referring to Camille as an ephebe at one point) and makes the attraction between the two seem palpable. There is plenty of queer (under)tones to be found in The Danton Case, but in Last Nights of Ventôse , she straight up interprets the fall of the Dantonists as Camille running into Danton’s arms to spite Robespierre for snubbing him and rejecting his devotion (romantic advances?). And it gets quite physical – not in a way that would warrant an E rating, but it would certainly deserve one for the sheer emotional intensity.

[figuresinthehaze]

Doing these sketches just to get a better idea of their faces haha

[amateurvoltaire]

On the 13th of April 1794, exactly 230 years ago, Lucile Desmoulins and Francoise Hebert met their tragic end, following their husbands to the guillotine after enduring a brief, sham trial that wrongfully convicted them of conspiracy. Though widowed by leaders of ideologically opposed factions (Hebert was an extremist, while Desmoulins was a so-called indulgent), the two women forged a strong bond in prison. Their final moments were marked by a brief embrace before they faced their execution with dignity.

The execution of Lucile Desmoulins:

FRANCE.

From Paris, the 26th of Germinal.

The conspirators condemned by the revolutionary tribunal were executed yesterday at a quarter to seven. Chaumette, next to Gobel, responded to the accusations of atheism made against him with a rageful smile; Gobel was morose, silent, dejected; Dillon, cheerful, was beside Simon; the Count of Grammont next to his son; the widow Hébert and that of Camille Desmoulins, dressed elegantly and maintaining their composure, were talking together. Gobel & Chaumette were the last to endure the punishment. Chaumette's head was carried to the people amidst applause and cries of "Long live the republic." The wife of Hébert and the wife of Camille Desmoulins were the first to go up to the scaffold; they embraced before dying.

[r0binphobic]

Oooohh they could never make me hate you, Desmoulins family