PARIS, CHARLES DE GAULLE AIRPORT
Aurelie Marchand breathed a sigh of relief as she cleared Passport Control, and headed for the cab rank. Born in Vermont to her French parents, she was overjoyed to be here now,in their homeland! Climbing into the back, she gave her destination, the Hotel Rivoli,not far from the Île de la Cité, and the cab drove off,soon she was travelling south-west towards the city, and she was eventually pulling up outside the building.
A porter carried her bags up to the fourth floor, and after tipping him, she checked out the room. She was pleased to get a view over the rooftops, and could see the rebuilt spire of the Notre-Dame cathedral, and planned to visit it while she was here,amongst other places.
As Aurelie had booked just bed and breakfast, she unpacked, showered,and changed into fresh clothing, and left the hotel, looking for a lunch location. She was in luck in that, on the next corner, she found a café with outdoor seating,and sat. A waiter appeared, and Aurelie, in her perfect French, ordered a coffee, and a French onion baguette. After a second coffee, she wandered along Rue Rivoli, looking in shop windows, at the latest women’s fashions. Walking through the back streets towards the Seine, she was soon standing on the quayside overlooking the great river! Finding her way back to the hotel, she lay down on! her bed,and drifted off to sleep!
When she opened her eyes, she sensed that something was wrong! This wasn’t the bed she’d fallen asleep on. What should have been a king size bed, with a duvet, now appeared to be just a pile of hay covered with a couple of sacks.
“Putain de merde!” she exclaimed, “Bloody Hell,what’s going on?”
The room seemed to have changed, instead of a floor to ceiling window, there was a window, two foot square, with sacks for curtains. There was a chamber pot in the far corner, and the room was lit by three candles! Even her clothes were different. Instead of her green satin blouse, and black skirt she seemed to be wearing a white cotton chemise! Draped over a rude table at the foot of the bed were other items of clothing, consisting of a blue dyed cotton petticoat, a front-closing soft leather corset and a white apron. There was a small wall mirror, so she brushed her long red hair, and without thinking, got dressed, put on her clogs, and went downstairs to the tavern where she worked!
“Ah, Clémence, late as usual, you lazy trollop!” shouted her employer, Monsieur Gerard, “come now, there are customers dying of thirst here!”
Without thinking, she knew instinctively that Gerard was addressing her, so she apologised, “Je suis vraiment desólé, Monsieur!” she replied, and hurried to the tables, where thirsty workers demanded their ales.
When she had finished her eight hour working day, she took the purse to Gerard, and gave it to him, with the evening’s takings,
“Clémence, you may be a lazy trollop, but for some reason, the customers like you! Here take this stale bread, and meat up to your room, and don’t be late tomorrow! he said, grudgingly!
“Merci, Monsieur! Bon nuit!” she replied.
She climbed the stairs, and entered her room, and used a taper to light a candle, so she could see as she ate the meagre offerings. Undressing down to her shift, she laid on the hay, and blowing out the candle, she soon fell asleep.
She awoke at dawn the next morning and walked over to the chamber pot, and squatting over it did her business, wiping herself with a cloth afterwards. She picked up the pot and took it to the window,which she opened. She took the pot, and shouted the warning, “Prenez garde a l’eau!” before tipping the contents onto the street below.
18th Century Paris was a dangerous place to be during the final years. One had to be careful who you were seen with, who you were talking to! You just didn’t know who you could trust! Even the familiar customers at The Three Bells, weren’t above suspicion, so she just kept herself to herself, and didn’t get too involved with anyone’s point of view. She didn’t want to get an appointment at Place de Louis XV with Madame Guillotine!
The streets themselves were virtual health hazards. What with the contents and detritus from chamber pots, animal waste, and blood from slaughterhouses it all created a foul-smelling environment! Sure, there were street cleaners, but they fought a losing battle! Paris would have to wait until the next Century for a sewer system to be built! Looking through her purse she found she had the princely sum of 3 Livres, 17 Sous, and 6 Deniers, she wouldn’t starve, but more tips would be welcomed, and she’d do what she could to get more!
Walking down to the river, she purchased an apple and one croissant! She sat down and had her breakfast. As the vendor moved away, two croissants fell to the floor! Without hesitation, she called out to the woman, but her call went unanswered! Clémence unthinkingly put the croissants in the pocket of her apron! As she did so, a passer-by yelled, “Thief! That red haired woman has stolen two croissants from the vendor, and hidden them in her apron!”
“No, no, Monsieur! I have not stolen them! I was going to give them back to the citoyenne!” cried Clémence!
“LIAR!” the man screamed, “I saw you put them in your apron folds!” Just at that moment, two soldiers appeared on the scene, and asked what happened!
“The redhead stole two croissants from the vendor while she wasn’t looking!” cried the accuser!
Just then the vendor arrived, “It must be true, I had seven, and now there are four only! That woman paid for one! Search her apron!” she demanded!
One soldier held Clémence, while the second one searched the apron, pulling out two croissants! “Here’s the proof! Two croissants! You still plead innocence, citoyenne?”
“Yes, I saw them fall, I was going to give them back!”
The second soldier pulled her hands behind her back, and roughly tied her wrists. Securely bound, with a soldier on each side holding an arm, she was taken the short way to the Conciergerie, the prison and revolutionary court, situated on the Île de la Cité. Soon, she found herself sitting in the corner of a cell, checking out the six other female occupants. One of the others, a blonde in her forties, Clémence guessed, came over to her,
“Well now citoyenne, what trumped up charge have they got you in here for?” the woman asked her.
“They said I stole two croissants, but the vendor dropped them, and I was trying to give them back.” Clémence replied.
“And were you giving them back?”
“Why, of course! I had bought one from the vendor, why should I steal another two?”
“Why? The tribunal won’t want to hear your side of the story. There’s just two verdicts here…guilty, and NOT innocent! I’m Marie, and you are?”
“I’m Clémence Marchand, mon ami! What is your crime?”
“Me! Oh, I’m guilty! I was raped in the streets, and put a blade across his throat! I will be in heaven this time tomorrow!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Marie!”
“Don’t be, my little lamb! I just hope I’m first! I hear the blade loses its sharpness after a few drops!”
Clémence shuddered at the blade’s mention.
That night, Marie and Clémence shared some private time together, before falling asleep in each other's arms, and in the morning, the guards came and took Marie away for her appointment with the guillotine! They soon came back, this time they came for Clémence!
The tribunal hall was packed with the peasant class, come to watch the unfortunates who were facing trial. There were three judges seated on a raised dais! The Primary Judge stood and addressed Clémence,
“The accused will state her name!”
“Clémence Marchand, Your Honour”
“Ah, yes! You are accused of the theft of two croissants from Odile Lebrun! Due to your appearance in front of this Tribunal, you are obviously guilty!”
“But Your Honour, it is not true!”
“SILENCE! This tribunal does not make a habit of trying the innocent!” He sat and the three discussed her case, then he stood again!
“Citoyenne Clémence Marchand, you have been found guilty of the crime of stealing, the sentence of which is death by guillotine! Sentence to be carried out in two days! Take her away!”
Clémence was dragged, screaming her innocence, out of the Tribunal Hall and escorted into a condemned cell with five other women. There , she was disrobed down to her shift, and her mules were also taken from her. A guard entered the cell and began to hack off her red hair. This was necessary to aid the blade on its downward journey. The girl sobbed at the loss of her beautiful tresses,which now lay in a heap at her feet.
On the morning of her execution, she was knelt on the floor, making her peace with God. She knew that soon she would be in a better place, even though she didn’t deserve what fate awaited her! Two guards entered and escorted all the condemned prisoners out to the waiting tumbrel. Clémence’s wrists were tied behind her back,and she was hauled into the cart , to stand with the other women, and they started their journey to the Place Louis XV. It was just after the breakfast hour,as the tumbrel, carrying its sad cargo through the crowded streets. Soon, the imposing shape of the guillotine came into view, and as the tumbrel stopped, the prisoners were helped off! Standing line abreast the six women waited to be called to their deaths.
The woman on her left was called first, and she calmly walked forward and up the wooden steps. At the top, she was positioned against the upright bascule and secured by a rope. The bascule was then lowered into a horizontal position and moved forward! Clémence watched silently as the blade fell, neatly decapitating the prisoner, whose head was picked up out of the wicker basket, and displayed to the crowd, who cheered at the sight! The body was freed from the bascule, and placed into a waiting coffin, the head was thrown in after it!
Now it was the turn of Clémence, who slowly walked up the steps, and approached the waiting executioner. She remained silent, having long since accepted her fate. Her shift was pulled down off her shoulders, leaving her neck exposed. She was placed up against the bascule, and tied to it by her lower arms and ankles! She was then lowered to the horizontal position,and pushed forward until her throat rested on the lower half of the lunette. The upper half was lowered, ensuring her head was now in the optimum spot for execution. She closed her eyes, and waited for death! She heard the drum roll,and then it stopped, signalling for the blade to drop and decapitate her! The last thing she ever heard was the swoosh of the blade as it touched her neck!
…Aurelie awoke with a start! She was back in her hotel room, the sound of traffic in the streets below was like music to her ears! “Oh, Thank God! It was just a horrible dream! But who is Clémence?” she said to herself, “but it seemed so real! As though I WAS poor Clémence!” Her hand went to her throat! She went to the bathroom to freshen up, and looked in the mirror, “Mon Dieu, my hair! What has happened? Where has it gone?”
Her lovely long red hair was gone! It was cut now to just above her neck! It was as though somebody had hacked it off with a rough blade!