My feet, I bade an eternal farewell to the hereditary-abode in which, as my ancestors, I had never tastedīut for the advanced age and the infirmities of mymother, I should have gone to the New World. Remind me of the past and then, shaking the dust from
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My horses, myĬarriagewhich bore as a coat of arms a cracked bell
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Hastened to sell my ancient residence, full of sad re-Ĭollections, wherein three out of seven generations had Postulating for my bloody functions there was noĪs for myself I had but one course to follow. On the following day eighteen competitors were Heaven has only given youĭaughters I was always thankful for it.' It must have come to this sooner or later. You from the inheritance of your fathers.'Īnd as I remained speechless with such emotion as Towards me her kindly eyes :* Blessed be this day, my son ! I placed on her lap the messagefrom the Minister of Justice. Still see her in her velvet armchair, from which the poor I then repaired to my mother's apartment. Hands which the blood of my brethren was henceforth God who sees in our hearts I solemnly laved those Then, ringing theīell, I asked for a basin and water and alone with These dumb witnesses that there was an end of the curse His hat in his hand, and clad in the sable garb he hadĮver worn.
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I looked at my grandfather, dressed in a shootingcostume, leaning on his gun and stroking his dogper-haps the only friend he had. I raised my eyes to the portraits of my ancestors I scanned all those dark, thoughtful faces, whereon wasĭepicted the very despair which had hitherto haunted Sinister orders I was bound to obey, I entered my houseĪnd went to my study, where I broke the fatal seal.Ī strange and indefinable sentiment took possession ofme. I took the ominous message with a trem-īling hand, and expecting that it contained one of those Seal of which the sight had even sent a thrill through I immediately recognised the large envelope and I had but just crossed the threshold when the One of the long walks of which I have always beenįond. On March i8, 1847, I returned to my residence from Wherever the ' Recollections' seemed to him to wanderįrom the special object they have in view, he has not It only remains for the Translator to state that Whatever opinions may beĮntertained of them, they are inspired, and in all proba-īility written, by no other than the man who bore the
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Ness of his work argues against the theory that theĪuthorship is genuine, at least in spirit, has been provedīy Sanson himself, who on several occasions publiclycontradicted reports that the memoirs published under That the Executioner mayhave received assistance is possible, though the uncouth. Sanson was notĪ profound scholar, but he knew enough to hold a penĪnd note his impressions in the crude style in which the'įrench version is indited. Lamentations have left him unshaken in his belief.īut authenticity may justly be claimed for these Heįinds, as everybody must do, difificulty in believing thatĪn individual need cut heads when he is compelled toĭo so neither by necessity nor by law, and Sanson's Manifold virtues Sanson ascribes to his ancestors. Pressions of hatred for the principle he represents, nor the Neither the Executioner's emphatic and sentimental ex. He may even say,without prejudicing these memoirs, that he credits The Translator has no sympathy for Sanson or hisīook, and he claims none for him. Lator has endeavoured to palliate, is redeemed by theĬonstant link which unites the dark tales Sanson has to Would not have put his pen at the service of such work.Ī certain amount of morbidness is obviously inseparablefrom a book of such a kind The literature of horrors, and the Translator may be per-mitted to say that, had his opinion been different, he Howbeit, these memoirs are chiefly conspicuous for Of the present version to decide whether this idea was
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Thought by all, that the last of the Sansons could not but Than the men belonging to the bloody profession. Had placed his descendants on a somewhat higher level Previous to the assumption of the executioner's office, Ruption, and the social position of the first of the race, Quartered, and tortured from father to son without inter. They had exercised their functionsįor nearly two hundred years. State victim, as well as every common criminal, had passedĭuring two centuries. He was the lineal descend-Īnt of a race of headsmen through whose hands every In fact the author wasĪ personage in his own way. More curiosity than the records of an ordinary execu. Several years have now passed since this work was Memoirs of Henry Sanson and his family, a few pre-įatory remarks from the Translator are necessary. In presenting this English version of the condensed HENRY SANSON,LATH EXECUTIONER OF THE COURT OF Ji:STICR OF PARIS.