To one of these prisoners, Journiac Saint-Méard, one time captain in the King's light infantry, we shall for the present attach ourselves. His Agony of Thirty-eight Hours (Mon agonie de trente-huit heures), much read at the beginning of the century, is amongst the best of the contemporary records, and from that I shall translate at some length.
This slow deliberate killing of the priests was done, he says, amid a silence inexpressibly horrible; and as each fell, a savage murmur went up, and a single shout of Vive la nation! Women were there encouraging the men, and fetching jugs of wine for them. Someone in the crowd pointed to the windows of the prison and said: "There are plenty of conspirators behind there; and not a single one must escape!"
Towards seven in the evening, two men with sabres, their hands steeped in blood, entered the prison, and began to carry out the prisoners for slaughter.
"The unfortunate Reding lay sick on his bed, and begged to be killed there. One of the men hesitated, but his companion said, 'Allons donc!' and he slung him across his shoulder to carry him out, and he was killed in the street."
"We looked at one another in silence, but presently the cries of fresh victims renewed our agitation, and we recalled the words of M. Chantereine as he plunged a knife into his heart: 'We are all destined to be massacred.'"
"At midnight, ten men armed with sabres, and preceded by two turnkeys with torches, came into our dungeon, and ordered us to range ourselves along the foot of our beds. They counted us, and told us that we were responsible for one another, swearing that if one of us escaped, the rest should be massacred, without being heard by the President. The last words gave us a little hope, for until then we had had no idea that we might be heard before being killed."
"At two o'clock on Monday morning, we heard them breaking in one of the prison doors, and thought at first that we were about to be slaughtered in our beds, but were a little reassured when we heard someone outside say that it was the door of a cell which some prisoners had tried to barricade. We learned afterwards that all who were found there had their throats cut."
"At ten, Abbé Lenfant, confessor of the King, and the Abbé de Chapt-Rastignac appeared in the pulpit of the chapel which served for our prison, and informing us that our last hour was approaching, invited us all to receive their blessing. An indefinable electric movement sent us all to our knees, and, with clasped hands, we received it. Those two white-haired old men with hands outstretched in prayer, death hovering above us, and on every side environing us: what a situation, what a moment, never to be forgotten!"
Saint-Méard goes on to say how, during that morning, they discussed among themselves what was the easiest way in which to receive death. The slaughter in the streets never stopped, and some of them went from time to time to the window to observe and make reports.
"They reported that those certainly suffered the most and were the longest in dying who tried in any way to protect their heads, inasmuch as by so doing they warded off the sabre-cuts for a time, and sometimes lost both hands and arms before their heads were struck. Those who stood up with their hands behind their backs seemed to suffer least, and certainly died soonest.... On such horrible details did we deliberate."