CORDAY D’ARMANS, Marie-Anne-Charlotte, was born in 1768, at St Saturnin, near Séez, in Normandy, and descended of a noble family. After the events of the 31st May 1793, the heads of the republican party of the convention, Guadet, Gensonné, Pétion, and others, having been proscribed by Robespierre, sought refuge in the departments of the Eure and the Calvados, where they hoped to stir up in their favour the numerous population of Normandy. At this time the works of certain popular writers, and particularly those of the Abbé.Raynal, her favourite author, had obliterated from the mind of Charlotte Çorday those lessons of gentleness and resignation which she had imbibed in the peaceful convent where she had been educated; whilst the cause of the refugees, which she now accounted alike honourable and patriotic, the energy and charm of their conversation, and the interest which a generous nature always feels in behalf of men of merit unjustly persecuted, excited beyond measure her ardent imagination. Accordingly, observing that those around her manifested but little desire to inflict vengeance upon the oppressors of her country, she resolved singly to strike a blow which should spread terror and dismay among the ranks of the .triumphant faction. She therefore ’ repaired to Paris, where she at first occupied herself in endeavouring to ascertain the temper of the public mind; and she then managed to get introduced to the gallery of the convention by the Abbé Fauchet, to whom she applied for the purpose, and who soon afterwards ex piated on the scaffold this simple act of complaisance towards an unknown female stranger. At that time the convention resounded with the most violent declamations against the proscribed patriots, and the only question was who should propose to adopt the most furious measures against them. Such vehement invectives against men whose cause she had embraced, redoubled the indignation of Charlotte Corday, and she hesitated no longer about executing the project she had formed. Marat, who of all the conventional deputies had contributed the most publicly to the revolution of the 31st May, had not for several days made his appearance in the assembly. But this extraordinary woman, whose purpose nothing could shake, having discovered his lodging, wrote to him in these terms:— “Citizen, I have just arrived from Caen. Your love for your native place doubtless makes you desirous to learn the events which have occurred in that part of the republic. I shall call at your residence in about an hour;— have the goodness to receive me ;—I will put you in a condition to render a great service to France.” This letter, and a second of a similar description, having remained unanswered, she wrote a third, on the 15th July 1793, in which she spoke of great secrets which she had to reveal, and of personal misfortunes to which she hoped the generous soul of Marat would not be insensible. She followed the bearer of this last billet, and arrived almost as soon as he at the door of the deputy. Two women, who were in the antichamber, refused at first to allow her to enter; but Marat, having gathered from their conversation that it was the person who had repeatedly written to him, ordered her to be admitted. He was then in a bathingtub, being afflicted with a disgusting malady, which had reduced him almost to a state of putrefaction. The conversation commenced as to what was passing in the Calvados, when Marat inquired of his unknown visitor the names of the deputies and administrators who were then at Caen and at Evreux, wrote them down from her dictation, and ended by saying, that in a few days he would cause them all to be guillotined at Paris. This was enough. Without waiting to hear more, she drew a knife which she had concealed under her gown, and buried it to the hilt in the breast of Marat, who, having exclaimed “A moi, ma chère amie !” almost instantly expired. The two women, alarmed by the noise, rushed into the apartment just as the wretch was breathing his last, whilst Corday, still holding the bloody knife in her hand, endeavoured to make her escape. Not daring to lay hold of her, the women overturned some articles of furniture in her way, and shouted out murder. The guard arrived, and the heroic assassin being seized, was immediately handed over to the revolutionary tribunal. But her firmness did not for an instant forsake her. Fouquicr-Tinville attempting to pronounce an eulogy on the murdered terrorist, she interrupted him sharply, declaring that Marat was a monster, w ho well merited his fate. The offence and all its circumstances being not only confessed, but defended by the accused as a meritorious and patriotic act, her doom could not for a moment be doubtful. Still this bloody tribunal, which had so often condemned without evidence or against it, affected to exhaust all the ordinary judicial formalities before pronouncing sentence, and appointed Chauveau-Lagarde to defend the accused. The defence consisted merely of a repetition of the confession which the prisoner herself had previously made, with a striking allusion to the imperturbable tranquillity and sublime abnegation of every personal or selfish consideration exhibited by her almost in the presence of death itsélf, and a hint, which, however, was wholly thrown away, that she might have acted under the influence of some strong mental hallucination. The prisoner gracefully thanked [7:7:323] her counsel for the few words he had uttered in her defence, declaring at the same time that the only plea worthy of her was an avowal of the act in which she gloried; and she heard sentence of death pronounced with the same unequalled serenity, and without the least perceptible change either in the colour or the expression of her countenance. The same extraordinary force of character or strength of enthusiasm sustained her in her last moments, and rendered her at once an object of interest, astonishment, and terror. On her way to the guillotine she was assailed, without being in the slightest degree affected, by the bootings of the rabble; and, in presence of the apparatus of death, she stood unmoved, whilst her fine and noble figure seemed to assume a more dignified and imposing attitude. When the executioner proceeded to remove part of her dress, the sentiment of offended mo-. desty was strongly expressed by her features; but as to the life of which she was about to be deprived, it seemed not to cost her a thought, nor to give her an instant’s concern. She was decapitated on the 17th July 1793, at the age of twenty-five. (Couet de Gironville, Charlotte Corday décapitée a Paris le 17th Juillet 1793, ou Mémoires pour servir à l’ Histoire de la Vie de cette Femme célèbre, Paris, 1796, 8vo.) (a.)