Three-Book Edition: A Place of Greater Safety; Beyond Black; The Giant O’Brien. Hilary MantelЧитать онлайн книгу.

      II. Liberty, Gaiety, Royal Democracy (1790)

      ‘OUR CHARACTERS make our destiny,’ Félicité de Genlis says. ‘Ordinary people for that reason do not have destinies, they belong to chance. A pretty, intelligent woman who has original ideas should have a life full of extraordinary events.’

      WE ARE NOW IN 1790. Certain events befall Gabrielle – a few of them extraordinary.

      IN MAY THIS YEAR, I gave my husband a son. We called him Antoine. He seems strong; but so did my first baby. We never talk about our first son now. Sometimes, though, I know that Georges thinks about him. Tears come into his eyes.

      I will tell you what else has happened, in the larger world. In January my husband was elected to the Commune, along with Legendre, our butcher. I did not say so – I never say anything now – but I was surprised that he put himself up for office, because he criticizes the Commune all the time, and Mayor Bailly most of all.

      Just before he went to take his seat, there was the business of Dr Marat. Marat insulted the authorities so much that an order was put out for his arrest. He was staying at the Hôtel de la Fautrière, within our district. They sent four officers to arrest him, but a woman ran to warn him, and he got away.

      I didn’t understand why Georges should be so concerned about Marat. He usually brings Dr Marat’s paper into the house, then in the middle of reading it cries, ‘Scum, scum, scum!’ and throws it across the room, or into the fire if he happens to be standing near it. But anyway, he said it was a matter of principle. He told the District Assembly that no one was going to be arrested in our district without his permission. ‘My writ runs here,’ he said.

      Dr Marat went into hiding. I thought, that will be the end of the newspaper for a while, we shall have some peace. But Camille said, ‘Well, I think we should help each other, I’m sure I can get the next issue out on time.’ The next issue of the paper insulted the people at City Hall still worse.

      On 21 January M. Villette, who is our battalion commander now, came round and asked to see Georges urgently. Georges came out of his office. M. Villette waved a piece of paper and said, ‘Order from Lafayette. Arrest Marat, top priority. What do I do?’

      Georges said, ‘Put a cordon round the Hôtel de la Fautrière.’

      The next thing that happened was that the sheriff’s officers came again with the warrant – and a thousand men.

      Georges was in a fury. He said it was an invasion by foreign troops. The whole district turned out. Georges found the commander and walked up to him and said, ‘What the hell is the use of these troops, do you think? I’ll ring the tocsin, I’ll have Saint-Antoine out. I can put twenty thousand armed men on the streets, just like that.’ And he snapped his fingers under the man’s nose.

      ‘PUT YOUR HEAD out of the window,’ Marat said. ‘See if you can hear what Danton is saying. I’d put my own head out, but somebody might shoot it off.’

      ‘He is saying, where is that fucking battalion commander.’

      ‘I wrote to Mirabeau and Barnave.’ Marat turned to Camille his tired, gold-flecked eyes. ‘I thought they needed enlightenment.’

      ‘I expect they didn’t reply.’

      ‘No.’ He thought. ‘I renounce moderation,’ he said.

      ‘Moderation renounces you.’

      ‘That’s all right.’

      ‘Danton is sticking his neck out for you.’

      ‘What an expression,’ Marat said.

      ‘Yes, I don’t know where I pick them up.’

      ‘Why don’t they ever try arresting you? I’ve been on the run since October.’ Marat wandered around the room, pursuing a muttered monologue and scratching himself occasionally. ‘This affair could be the making of Danton. We lack good men. We could blow the Riding-School up, it would be no great loss. There are only half a dozen deputies who are any use at all. Buzot has some of the right ideas, but he’s too bloody high-minded. Pétion is a fool. I have some hopes for Robespierre.’

      ‘Me too. But, I don’t think a single measure he has proposed has ever been passed. Just to know that he supports a motion is enough to make most of the deputies vote against it.’

      ‘But he has perseverance,’ Marat said sharply. ‘And the Riding-School is not France, is it? As for you, your heart is in the right place, but you are mad. Danton I esteem. He will do something. What I should like to see – ’ he stopped, and pulled at the filthy kerchief knotted around his neck, ‘I should like to see the people dispense with the King, the Queen, the ministers, Bailly, Lafayette, the Riding-School – and I should like to see the country governed by Danton and Robespierre. And I should be there to keep an eye on them.’ He smiled. ‘One may dream.’

      GABRIELLE: It was like this for the rest of the day, our men ringing the building, Dr Marat inside, and the troops Lafayette had sent drawn up around the cordon. Georges came home to check that we were safe, and he seemed quite calm, but every time he went out on to the streets he seemed to be in a towering rage. He made a speech to the troops, he said, ‘You can stay here till tomorrow if you want, but it won’t bloody get you anywhere.’

      There was a great deal of bad language that day.

      As the morning wore on, our men and their men started talking to each other. There were regular troops, and volunteers too, and people said, after all, these are our brothers from other districts, of course they’re not going to fight us. And Camille went around saying, of course they’re not going to arrest Marat, he’s the People’s Friend.

      Then Georges went down to the Assembly. They wouldn’t let him speak at the bar of the House, and they passed a motion saying that the Cordeliers district must respect the law. He seemed to be away for hours. I just kept finding things to do. Picture it. You marry a lawyer. One day you find you’re living on a battlefield.

      ‘SO HERE ARE THE CLOTHES, Dr Marat,’ François Robert said. ‘M. Danton hopes they fit.’

      ‘Well, I don’t know,’ Marat said. ‘I was hoping to make my escape by balloon. I’ve wanted for such a long time to ascend in a balloon.’

      ‘We couldn’t get one. Not in the time we had.’

      ‘I bet you didn’t try,’ Marat said.

      After he had washed, shaved, dressed in a frock-coat, combed his hair, François Robert said, ‘Amazing.’

      ‘One was always well-dressed,’ Marat said, ‘in one’s days in high society.’

      ‘What happened?’

      Marat glowered. ‘I became the People’s Friend.’

      ‘But you could still dress normally, couldn’t you? For instance, you mention Deputy Robespierre as a patriot, and he is always wonderfully turned-out.’

      ‘There is perhaps a strain of frivolity in M. Robespierre,’ Marat said drily. ‘For myself, I have no time for the luxuries, I think of the Revolution for twenty-four hours of the day. If you wish to