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After Marat's death she seems, from the notes I have here, to have lived with a chemist who was condemned to death in the year XII. for issuing false coin. She was called as witness in the case. It was from this intimacy that she derived her knowledge of poisons. "In 1812 and in 1816 she spent two years in prison for placing girls under age upon the streets.
So poor Monsieur Griffard, frantic with rage, hastened off to a cutler's shop, bought a large knife with seven of his sous, and had it well sharpened with the remaining two; but in the mean time up came a mob of ragged citizens with Phrygian caps on, bawling at the top of their voices, "Down with the aristocrats!" and carrying on a pole by way of a banner the last number of Marat's newspaper, whereupon it occurred to Monsieur Griffard that he might make a better use of his well-sharpened knife than applying it to his own throat, so he mingled with the crowd, and cried, "Down with the aristocrats!" as loudly as anybody.
Though Danton had many and obvious weaknesses he was a good lawyer, and Danton perceived that though he might not have been able to prevent the September massacres, and although they might have been and probably were inevitable under the tension which prevailed, yet that any court, even a political court, would be better than Marat's mob.
Marat's violence had become so great shortly after the taking of the Bastille that he had been proceeded against by the new municipality of Paris. He then began a life of hiding, flitting obscurely from point to point, dwelling in cellars, even at one time concealing himself in a drain. For a few weeks he fled to London.
He had also gathered from Chateaubriand what he remembered; and Thierry, who was blind, caused his book to be read to him twice over. The account of Marat in the 28th volume of Buchez was partly written by Villiaumé, and was approved by Albertine Marat. The great bibliographical curiosity in the literature of the Revolution is Marat's newspaper.
This was at first called "The Publiciste," but was soon changed to "The People's Friend." Marat was now in hiding, but still his words were making their impress. In Seventeen Hundred Ninety-one, Mirabeau, the terrible, died died peacefully in his bed. Paris went into universal mourning, and the sky of Marat's popularity was darkened.
There stood Voltaire, Rousseau, Montesquieu, Locke, Hume all the authors who ought to have been present. There were also periodicals, the Moniteur, Pere Duchesne and Marat's L'Ami du Peuple. This last was bound in somewhat greasy leather, which resembled pig's-skin, and had curled up at the corners. Another wall was covered with engravings, some coloured and some plain.
That same forenoon, on his return from the Abbaye and the depot, Chauvelin found that a visitor was waiting for him. A woman, who gave her name as Jeannette Marechal, desired to speak with the citizen Representative. Chauvelin knew the woman as his colleague Marat's maid- of-all-work, and he gave orders that she should be admitted at once.
He had no audacity in Marat's sense, but he was no coward. He knew, as all these men knew, that almost from hour to hour he carried his life in his hand, yet he declined to seek shelter in the obscurity which saved such men as Sieyès. But if he had courage, he had not the initiative of a man of action.
Citizen Marat's orders were very stern, and he was wont to terrify the Leridans with awful threats of the guillotine if they ever allowed the child out of their sight." Chauvelin sat silent for a while. A ray of light had traversed the dark and tortuous ways of his subtle brain. While he mused the woman became impatient. She continued to talk on with the volubility peculiar to her kind.
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