H.M. Williams, Letters

[amie-de-rimbaud.livejournal.com]

Ok, after my previous silly post--which, I fear, only divulged how my fixation with C. and L. nearly borders on psychosis--I wanted to share another instance of recognition, this one more substantial and legitimate. As I was reading through Letters Written in France in the Summer 1790 by Helen Maria Williams, the following caught my eye:

“I have heard several persons mention a young man, of a little insignificant figure, who, the day before the Bastille was taken, got up on a chair in the Palais Royal, and harangued the multitude, conjuring them to make a struggle for their liberty, and asserting, that now the moment was arrived. They listened to his eloquence with the most eager attention; and, when he had instructed as many as could hear him at one time, he requested them to depart, and repeated his harangue to a new set of auditors.” (p. 76)

Now, for some reason the editors, who are pretty meticulous in clarifying historical background, neglect to identify this “young man” with a footnote. How strange! This is C.--right? The chair, the Café du Foy, the great speech...it all seems to fit. I just found it bizarre that Williams doesn’t know him by name, since he would have been familiar by now (1790) in Paris--but I was more struck by the editors’ omission, since they take such care to provide details in other instances. Hmm.

 

Later, in one of her Letters Containing a Sketch of the Scenes...during the Tyranny of Robespierre, she mentions him directly--and none too kindly--in reference to the fall of the Dantonists: “Of this party were Camille Desmoulins, the author of the libel against the Gironde,...Fabre d’Eglantine, who was an intriguer, with more address and less honesty than Camille; La Croix, who was a wretch covered with crimes...etc.” (pp. 70-76).

So, Williams eventually did become acquainted with the name of our dear C., but the first allusion in which he remains anonymous continues to be a source of--hmm, something--to me. I guess it was just the frisson of discovering a new account of C. and experiencing what it must have been like to have arrived from England to France at that time, when the Revolution was still in its pre-Terror phase, and to have listened to the rumors and gossip surrounding the Revolutionary heroes. And C. in the Palais Royal is one of my favorite images of him--that moment of “eloquence” and self-realization.

Anyway, I would definitely recommend reading Williams. I have her Letters...(1790), and although there are later volumes as well, the appendix of my volume has a few selections of letters found in the other volumes, as well as other interesting material, so you could probably get a good idea of her writing just by reading the one volume.