Chapter 18 - Marat's Murder
Friday, August 5, 2011 at 11:34AM Tweet 
Chapter Eighteen...
In which Charlotte buys her weapon, then hunts Marat down.
Like my Girondin friends, I read about the sham trial and condemnation of my king in Marat’s ill-named journal, Ami du people, or Friend of the People. Marat made no secret of his views. He was thrilled at the death-sentence leveled at my king. He demanded that the National Convention also find and sever the heads of the 21 Girondin delegates who had attempted to save poor “Louis the Last”.
I believed then, as I do now, that Marat, with his hateful Jacobin opinions, was the cause of the Reign of Terror now gripping my country. He was responsible for the desecration of the churches. He was to blame for the savage deaths of priests and nobles massacred in their prison cells. It is because of him that friend now denounces friend and neighbor denounces neighbor, all in an attempt to save their own necks. Because of Marat, we all live in fear; we are ruled by terror. Heads roll by the hundreds from the guillotines; their blades and the streets beneath them stained a perpetual blood red. Marat encouraged it all to happen through his ill-named journal, Friend of the People. He had to be stopped.
I decided to do it myself. I would sacrifice my life to save France and my Girondin compatriots, to avenge my king and the peaceful Revolution. The moderate Girondin are the true saviors of France. I had to kill Marat to stop them from being killed. This would be my contribution to creating a lasting peace in France.
On 9 July 1793, I bade farewell to my childhood home after seeing all my friends and settling all my debts. I sent a note to my father telling him that I was leaving France for England, never to return. I begged his forgiveness that I did not call on him directly. I told him I was afraid that if I saw him again I would change my mind. I asked him to kiss my beloved sister for me. I gave my favorite sketchbook and pencils to the carpenter’s boy on the corner. I caught the coach to Paris, not daring to look back.
I arrived here in Paris two days later, on 11 July, and secured room no. 7 at the Hotel de la Providence, a small room on the 1st floor with a window facing the street. I went directly to the Palais Egalité to learn the latest political news and to find out what I could of Marat’s habits.
Before the sun had set on July 12, I knew that Marat no longer went to the Convention. He was ill, I discovered, and rarely left his home. I resolved to find him there, though I had hoped to cut him down on the Convention floor.
At 6:00 on the morning of July 13, I left my hotel. I found my way back to the Palais Egalité before the shops had opened for the day. I walked slowly through the gardens one last time, with its rows of trees, green and cool in the clear morning air. I enjoyed the sounds of the city waking to a new day. The day dawned fresh. Birds sang with the advance of the sun. How bittersweet were those last moments of freedom.
By 8:00 the shops began to open, and I slipped into a cutler here at #177, Galerie de Valois. I bought a large knife for the cost of two francs. With the knife concealed in the bodice of my dress, I left the gardens at 9:00, resolved to track down the man I believe to be the murderer of the ideals of the French Revolution. I left in search of Jean-Paul Marat.
Follow me on the journey to end of Marat’s life…and mine…
Return for our next installment,
Chapter Seventeen...
In which Charlotte wields her knife.
Listen to Charlotte tell her story in her own words.
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Images:
Jean-Paul Marat. From Adolphe Thiers, Histoire de la Révolution française (10 tomes). Paris: Furne et Cie Libraires-Éditeurs, 1865 (13th edition, collection of Y.- A. Durelle-Marc). Digital image courtesy of le Centre d’Histoire du Droit de l’Universite Rennes 1.
Robert-Fleury, Tony (1838-1911). Charlotte Corday at Caen in 1793. Oil on canvas, 2.100 x 1.250 m. CM177. Photo: R.G. Ojeda. Musée Bonnat, Bayonne, France. Photo Credit: Réunion des Musées Nationaux / Art Resource, NY.
