The history of the Bastile, and of its principal captives — John Shaqi
The history of the Bastile, and of its principal captivesDavenport, R. A. (Richard Alfred)
History
The history of the Bastile, and of its principal captives
Davenport, R. A. (Richard Alfred)
Bastille -- History; Political crimes and offenses -- France; Prisons -- France -- History
“When I heard the double doors shut upon me a second time, casting my
eyes round my habitation, I fancied I now saw the extent of all that was
left to me in this world for the rest of my days. _Besides the malignity
of enemies, and the anger of a minister, I felt that I ran the risk of
being forgotten; the fate of many who have no one of influence to protect
them, or who have not particularly attracted the notice of the public.
Naturally fond of society, I confess I looked forward to the abyss of
lonely wretchedness, that I thought awaited me, with a degree of horror
that cannot easily be described. I even regretted now what I had formerly
considered as the greatest blessing, a healthy constitution that had
never been affected by disease._
“I recollect with humble gratitude the first gleam of comfort that shot
across this gloom. It was the idea, that neither massive walls, nor
tremendous bolts, nor all the vigilance of suspicious keepers, could
conceal me from the sight of God. This thought I fondly cherished, and
it gave me infinite consolation in the course of my imprisonment, and
principally contributed to enable me to support it, with a degree of
fortitude and resignation that I have since wondered at—I no longer felt
myself alone.
“At eleven, my reflections were interrupted by the turnkey, who entered
with my dinner. Having spread the table with a clean napkin, he placed
the dishes on it, cut the meat, and retired, taking away the knife. The
dishes, plates, fork, spoon, and goblet, were of pewter. The dinner
consisted of soup and bouilli, a piece of roasted meat, a bottle of good
table wine, and a pound loaf of the best kind of household bread. In
the evening, at seven, he brought my supper, which consisted of a roast
dish and a ragoût. The same ceremony was observed in cutting the meat,
to render the knife unnecessary to me. He took away the dishes he had
brought for dinner, and returned at eight the next morning to take away
the supper things. Fridays and Saturdays being fast or _maîgre_ days, the
dinner consisted of soup, a dish of fish, and two dishes of vegetables;
the suppers, of two dishes of garden stuff, and an omelet, or something
made with eggs and milk. The dinners and suppers of each day in the week
were different, but every week was the same: so that the ordinary class
of prisoners saw in the course of the first week their bill of fare for
fifty years, if they staid so long.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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