apet's son. From this time forward Simon
redoubled his harshness; beat the boy daily; removed his books and
converted them into pipe-lights; cut off his hair, and made him wear
the red Jacobin cap; dressed him in a scarlet livery, and compelled
him to clean his own and his wife's shoes, and to give them the most
abject obedience. At last the boy's spirit was thoroughly broken, and
Simon not only did as he had said, and forced his victim to sing the
"Carmagnole," and shout "_Vive la Republique!_" but made him drunk
upon bad wine, and when his mind was confused forced him to sing lewd
and regicide songs, and even to subscribe his name to foul slanders
against his mother.

It might be supposed that the Convention was thoroughly satisfied with
its worthy subordinate who had done his peculiar work so effectively,
but he was considered too costly, and was ousted from his post. It was
resolved that the expenses of the children of Louis Capet should be
reduced to what was necessary for the food and maintenance of two
persons, and four members of the Council-General of the Commune agreed
to superintend the prisoners of the Temple. A new arrangement was
made, and a novel system of torture was inaugurated by Hebert and
Chaumette, two of the most infamous wretches whom the Revolution
raised into temporary notoriety. The wretched boy was confined in a
back-room which had no window or connection with the outside except
through another apartment. His historian describes it vividly--"The
door of communication between the ante-room and this room was cut down
so as to leave it breast high, fastened with nails and screws, and
grated from top to bottom with bars of iron. Half way up was placed a
shelf on which the bars opened, forming a sort of wicket, closed by
other moveable bars, and fastened by an enormous padlock. By this
wicket his coarse food was passed in to little Capet, and it was on
this ledge that he had to put whatever he wanted to send away.
Although small, his compartment was yet large enough for a tomb. What
had he to complain of? He had a room to walk in, a bed to lie upon; he
had bread and water, and linen and clothes! But he had neither fire
nor candle. His room was warmed only by a stove-pipe, and lighted only
by the gleam of a lamp suspended opposite the grating." Into this
horrible place he was pushed on the anniversary of his father's death.
The victim did not even see the parsimonious hand which passed his
food to