French revolutionaries getting into physical fights compilation
Yesterday morning, MM. de Cazales and Barnave duelled in the Boulogne forest. The weapons were not kind to M. de Cazales; he was wounded in the head. Fortunately, his hat cushioned the impact of the bullet, and it is hoped that the wound will not be serious. It is said that the dispute between these two gentlemen was merely a difference of opinion, but it is a sad way to prove a man wrong by blowing his brains out.
Journal général de la cour et de la ville, number 43 (August 12 1790), page 343-344.
I left the de Vaufleury's literature cabinet with my veni mecum, that is to say, with a sturdy cane and pistols, as inseparable from the journalist as the king is from the National Assembly, and which are our veto. The same bookstore clerk who told me fifteen days ago that M. Lafayette despises me too much to try to assassinate me, dissatisfied with the account I had given of the conversation in my number 74, followed me with the number in his hand, and, pointing to the article, asked me if I recognized it. I replied that there was the law and the courts, if he thought he had cause to complain. Then the fellow gave me the customary compliments of these gentlemen in such a meeting, that I was a rascal, etc. etc that he would like to meet me in a suitable place, that he would do his best to cut my throat; that if we were only outside the Palais-Royal, he would knock me out, that he feared neither my pistols nor my cane; and to prove it to me, he finished his harangue by hitting me in the face with the number as hard as he could. I had endured insults as did Pericles, Cicero, and many other great personages who were well worth me, and who were not lacking in heart, as they showed in stronger circumstances; but feeling myself colaphised with my works, I could not stand it; I remembered the beautiful exclamation of Demosthenes, apropos of the slap given to him by Midas, being slapped on the cheek, slapped in a public place, slapped in the presence of the Athenians who had honored him with their suffrages, etc. I looked with pity, not on this Midas, but on the Midas in front of me, who only had my number in his hand, and I admired his audacity to hit me with a patriotic paper, in the same place where I had first called to arms, where I had first taken the cockade. I could, I told him, blow your brains out, but at the same time I thought that, thanks to the revolution, a citizen was no longer obliged to go and get himself killed at Kevrein, by the first rascal who had insulted him. I reflected that a blow with the cane would suffice to repair the injury, and as a form of retaliation, I applied weight and measure to his shoulders. My assailant went back to insult and provoke me. I answered that I was not unaware that for the past two years, I have been crossing a forest where I am exposed; that consequently I was always provided with the precautions which a traveler should take against assassins; but that I did not accept their appointment.
Desmoulins in number 77 (May 16 1791) of Révolutions de France et de Brabant
Last Saturday, madame Robert, wife of a man of letters and known patriot, and she herself the author of several works, passing through Quai Théatins, was accosted by three very elegant little men that told her to put down the three color cockade that this lady had tied to her hat. She refuses. These men follow her, repeating their insolent demands. You can take my life, but you cannot force me to put away my cockade, Madame Robert responded. Still followed and insulted, she took out a small knife and threatened her agressors. One of them points a dagger against her breast, she wards off the blow with a gravure roll (rouleau de gravures) that she held in her hand. Another assassin snatches her hat from her. A fourth arrives, and, taking the braves by the arm, tells them: Scatterbrains, don't go and act like Lambesc; you know that’s not for today. And these cutters, worthy game of the lower court of the Tuileries, fled when they saw some people approaching who were going to avenge their outrages.
Thermomètre du Jour, number 222, August 9 1792
”Monsieur Couthon,” [I said] ”you who are all-powerful on the Committee of Public Safety, are you aware that the Revolutionary Tribunal daily condemns unfortunate men who are accused of the same crime as these magistrates? This very day, Monsieur Couthon, sixty-three prisoners are to be executed under this pretext.” This reflection produced an indescribable effect on Couthon: his face became distorted and assumed a tiger-like expression… He made a movement. The bunny [in his lap] was overturned and the child, weeping, rushed into his mother's arms... Couthon had seized the bell-rope, but the person who had introduced me (Charlotte Robespierre) threw herself upon him and held him in his armchair.
”Escape!” she exclaimed, with an emotion which chilled me with fright. Then, lowering her voice:
”Go and wait for me in the orangery!” I descended with lightning-like rapidity, and reached the end of the Terrasse des Feuillants at the top of my speed.
Extract from an anecdote written by Maurice André Gaillard and given as a gift to his friend Fouché. Cited in Romances of the French Revolution (1909) by G. Lenotre, volume 1, page 171-173.
The [Committee of Public Safety] session became so stormy that Collot used acts of violence against Robespierre. He threw himself at him and seized him by the flanks. He was about to throw Robespierre through the window when the latter's friends rescued him.
Mémoires de Barras, membre du Directoire (1895) page 349-350
Robespierre had indeed spoken these words just as, making an attempt to leave the committee, he had opened the door with the intention of being heard by the deputies and a large number of citizens who, attracted by the noise of a quarrel in the bosom of the committee, were waiting in the antechamber for the purpose of gratifying their curiosity thus aroused. Collot d’Herbois, furious at such hypocrisy, had sprung after Robespierre, seized him by his coat, and, dragging him towards him in order to bring him back into the room, exclaimed in his resounding voice, which, the door remaining ajar, was heard by all, both the committee and the people outside: ”Robespierre is an infamous scroundrel, a hypocrite; he seeks to impute us that of which he alone is capable. We love all our colleagues; we carry all patriots in our hearts. There stands the man who seeks to butcher them one and all!” Thus vociferating, Collot d’Herbois still remained his hold on Robespierre’s coat-collar. As I had at that very moment left the Convention on my way to the committee, I became a chance spectator of this fearful scene, whose violence was still not the greatest crime in my eyes. Behind it stood revealed the plot of premeditated vengeance, far worse than a mere outburst of anger. I was among those who compelled Collot d’Herbois to release his hold on Robespierre, who thereupon declared that he could no longer sit with his enemies, styling them a party of septemvirs, whom he would unmask and fight in the body of the Convention.
Memoirs of Barras, Member of the Directorate (1895), volume 1, page 196-198. A variation of the anecdote found in the French memoirs?
Lindet has recounted that Collot d'Herbois had thrown himself on Robespierre and that he, helped by Carnot and Prieur de la Côte-d'Or, had to separate them. Councilor Carnot affirms that one day his brother threw a writing case at Robespierre’s head.
Le Grand Carnot (1952) by Marcel Reinhard, volume 2, page 145. Reinhard cites ”family archives” as the source for this anecdote.
It is perhaps also unknown that Carnot was Robespierre's bête noire, that the latter hardly dared to look at him (I do not say in the face, since Robespierre never looked anyone in the face), that Robespierre very often absented himself from the Committee, expressly so as not to meet Carnot; that he had sworn his destruction long ago, as one might believe, but that he only respected his life because he was needed for the war; and that he was only waiting for a favorable opportunity to let him join the numerous victims he again intended to sacrifice. Often Carnot had threatened him point-blank, putting his fist under his nose; one evening Robespierre, a little too sharply attacked by Carnot, felt ill or pretended to feel ill.
Dictionnaire néologique des hommes et des choses, ou Notice alphabétique des personnes des deux sexes, des événemens... (1799) by Beffroy de Reigny, volume 3, p. 11.
Some people witnessed a quarrel followed by assault between two members of the Convention. Panis and Duhem were talking very heatedly. As he left the hall, Duhem suddenly flew into a rage and struck Panis across the face with such a violent blow that his cheek immediately swelled. Panis stepped back and drew a spear-thrower, with which he intended to strike his opponent, but Duhem in turn armed himself with a pistol and two dagger blades. The people present rushed into the midst of these madmen and prevented them from cutting each other's throats.
Annales patriotiques et littéraires ou la tribune des hommes libres, number 11 (December 3 1794), page 45.
