Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1848-09-21

During her examination, she observed It
painter engaged IN taking her likeness ;
without nterrupting the examination, she
smilingly turned toward the artist, in order
that he might the better see her features
She thought of immortality, and already
sat for her portrait to Immortality.
Behind the painter stood young man,
whose fair hair, blue eyes, and pale COM
plexion, marked him for a native of the
North. His eyes were rveted on the prs-
oner; and at each reply, he shuddered and
changed color. He seemed to drink in her
words, and associate himself by gesture, at
titude, and enthusiasm, with the sentiments
she expressed Unable frequently to re-
press his emotion, he drew to himself, by
involuntary EXPLANATIONS, the attention of
the audience and of Charlotte Corday. AT
the moment when the President passed sem
tence of DEATH the young man rose from
his seat, with the gesture of a man who pro-
tests from the bottom of his heart, aud then
sunk back, as though his strength had fall
ed him. Charlotte, insensible to her own
fate, perceived this movement and compre-
hended that, at the moment when all on
earth had abandoned her, kindred spirit
hostile or Indifferent throng, she possessed
an unknown friend, and she thanked him
with look.
This stranger was Adam Lux, German
republican, sent to Paris by the Revolutions
lists of Mayence, to concert the movements
of Germany with those of France, in the
common cause of human reason and the
liberty of the people His eyes followed
Charlotte, until she disappeared amidss the
gems d arms beneath the arch of the stairs.
His thoughts never quilted her.
On her return to the Conciergerie, which
was SO soon to yield her up to the scai1old,
Charlotte Corday smiled on her companions
in prison, who hao ranged themselves in the
corridors and courts to see her pass. She
said to the concierge:
had hoped that we should breakfast
together once more, but the judges detain-
ed me so long that you must forgive me for
having broken my word
The executioner arrived she requested
ed him to allow her time to finish her let
ter, which was neither the outpouring of
weakness nor regret, but the last act of
wounded endship--addressi an eternal
reproach to the cowardly spirit which had
abandoned her.
1t was addressed to Doulcet de Pente-
coulant, whom she had seen at her aunt's,
and OH whom she believed she had calledin
vain to be her defender. The letter was as
follows;
'Doulcet de Pentecoulant is coward to
have refused to defend me when it was so
easy. lie who undertook it, performed his
task with all possible dignity, and l shall
retain grateful recollection of him to my
last moments
Her Indignation was unjust; the young
Pentecoulant, who was absent from Paris,
had not received her letter his generosity
and courage were sufficient guaranty thai.
he would have accepted the office aud
Charlotte bore an error and injustice to the
scatfold.
The artist who had sketched Charlote's
likeness at the tribunal, was Nj. Hauer, a
painter and officer of the National Guard
of the section of the Theatre Francois. On
her return to the prison, she requested the
concierge to allow him to finish his work,
and, on his arrival, Charlotte thanked him
for the interest he appeared to take in her,
and Quietly sat to him, as though, while she
permitted him to transmit her form and fea-
lures to posterty, she also charged him to
hand down her mind and her patriotism to
unborn generations. She conversed with
NJ Hauer on his profession, the events of
the day, and the peace of mind she felt al
Ter the execution of her design; she also
spoke of her young friend at Caen, and re-
quested him to paint miniature from the
portrait, and send it to the family.
Suddenly knock was heard at the door
and the eXecutoner entered Charlotte,
| turning round, perceived the scissors and
! red chemlse he carried over his arm.
What already exclaimed she, turning
/ pale.
| Then recovering her composure, and
| glancug at the unfinished portrait, Mon
seur said she to the artist, Il know not
! how to thank you for the trouble you have
TAKEN have only this to offer you, Keep
it in memory Of your kindness and my graf
/ itude.'
As she spoke, she took the scissors from
the execnlioner, and scvering a lock Of her
| long hair, gave it to Nj. llaucr.
This portrait, interrupted by death, is
still in the possession OF the family Of Nj
Hauer. The head only was painted, and
the bust merely sketched But the painter
who watched the preparations for the scat
fold, was SO struck with the sinister splend-
or added by the red chemise to the beauty
of his model, that after Charloue's death,
he painted her ia this COSTUME.
A priest, sent by the public accuser, pre-
scented himself to offer the last consolation
of religion. Thank said she to him,
those who have had the attention to send
you, but need not your ministry, The
blood ! have split, and my own which am
about to shed, are the only sacrifices l eau
offer the Eternal The executioner then
cut off her hair, bound her hands aud put
on the chemise DIES cOndemneS. This said
she, is the toilet of death, arranged by
somewhat rude hands, but it leads to i'm.
mortality ...,...
She collected her long hair, looked at il
for the last time, and gave 1t to MADAM
} Richard. AS she mounted the fatal cart,
violent storm broke over Paris, but the
I lightning and rain did not dispense thu
crowd who blocked up the squares, thu
bridges, and the streets which she passed
Hordes of women or rather furies, followed
her with the iiercest imprecations but in
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