File:Death of Maximilien de Robespierre, by Frédéric Lix.jpg

Identifier: ridpathlibraryof01ridp (find matches)
Title: The Ridpath library of universal literature. A biographical and bibliographical summary of the world's most eminent authors
Year: 1900 (1900s)
Authors: Ridpath, John Clark, 1840-1900
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Publisher: New York : The Globe publishing co.
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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ness of heranguish, she threw herself upon the bed, clasped Na-poleons neck in her arms, and exclaiming, My hus-band! my husband! sobbed as though her heart werebreaking. The imperial spirit of Napoleon was entirelyvanquished. He also wept convulsively. He assuredJosephine of his love—of his ardent and undying love.In every way he tried to soothe and comfort her. Forsome time they remained locked in each others em-brace. The valet-de-chambre, who was still present,was dismissed, and for an hour Napoleon and Josephinecontinued together in their last private interview.Josephine then, in the experience of an intensity of an-guish such as few human hearts have ever known, partedforever from the husband whom she had so long and sofaithfully loved. An attendant entered the apartmentof Napoleon to remove the lights. He found the Em-peror so buried beneath the bed-clothes as to be invisi-ble. Not a word was uttered. The lights were removed,and the unhappy monarch was left alone, in darkness
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THE DEATH OF ROBESPIERRE.Drawing by F. Lix. JOHN STEVENS CABOT ABBOTT 31 and silence, to the melancholy companionship of his ownthoughts. The next morning the deathlike pallor of hischeek, his sunken eye, and the haggard expression ofhis countenance, attested that the Emperor had passedthe night in sleeplessness and in suffering.—History ofNapoleon Bonaparte. THE DEATH OF ROBESPIERRE. The day was just beginning to dawn as the long fileof prisoners was led into the Place de Greve to be con-ducted to the hall of the Convention. First cameRobespierre, borne by four men on a litter. His fract-ured jaw was bound up by a handkerchief, which wassteeped in blood. . . . He was laid upon a table inan ante-room, while an interminable crowd pressed inand around to catch a sight of the fallen Dictator. Theunhappy man was overwhelmed with reproaches andinsults, and feigned death to escape this mortal torture.The blood was freely flowing from his wound, coagu-lating in his mouth, and choking him a

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