irls_ who were condemned, there
were seven either married or widows, whose ages varied from forty-one to
sixty-nine!

Contemporary accounts then, even those of Riouffe, may be submitted
without irreverence to earnest discussion. When a tenth part of the
funds annually devoted to researches in and examination of old
chronicles, is applied to making extracts from the registers relative to
the French Revolution, we shall certainly see many other hideous
circumstances that revolt the soul, disappear from our contemporary
history. Look at the massacres of September! The historians most in
vogue report the number of victims that fell in that butchery to have
been from six to twelve thousand; whilst a writer who has lately taken
the trouble to analyze the prison registers in the gaoler's books,
cannot make the whole amount to one thousand. Even this number is very
large; but, for my part, I thank the author of this recent publication
for having reduced the number of assassinations in September to less
than a tenth part of what had been generally admitted.

When the discussion which I have here undertaken becomes known to the
public, it will be seen how many and how important are the retrenchments
to be made from that lugubrious page of our history. Another important
circumstance may be appreciated, which appears to me to arise from all
these facts. After having weighed my proofs, every one I hope will join
me in seeing that the wretches around the scaffold of Bailly were but
the refuse of the population, fulfilling for pay the part that had been
assigned them by three or four wealthy cannibals.

The sentence pronounced against Bailly by the Revolutionary Tribunal was
to be executed on the 12th of November, 1793. The reminiscences recently
published by a fellow-prisoner of our colleague, the reminiscences of M.
Beugnot, will enable us to penetrate into the Conciergerie, on the
morning of that inauspicious day.

Bailly had risen early, after having slept as usual, the sleep of the
just. He took some chocolate, and conversed a long time with his
nephew. The young man was a prey to despair, but the illustrious
prisoner preserved all his serenity. The previous evening in returning
from the Tribunal, he remarked, with admirable coolness, though
springing from a certain disquietude, "that the spectators of his trial
had been strongly excited against him. I fear," he added, "that the mere
execution of the sentence will no longer s