Dr.James T.Rutnam

Principal of St Xavier’s College, Nuwara Eliya-1929-1930

 Dr.James T.Rutnam’s speech made at the Alliance Francaise in 1962

(Ref:87313 National Archives)

COUNT D ‘HERVILLY’S LOCK OF HAIR

AN INCIDENT IN THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

“Some years ago, I delved into a collection of manuscripts and papers that once belonged to a former chief justice of Ceylon, Sir Alexander Johnston. To my astonishment, I discovered among this dusty and decaying assortment of the raw material of history, a lock of human hair.

It was delicately woven into a plait about six inches long and a quarter of an inch thick, and encased in a little envelope (2’’X3”) with a daintily decorated border. the hair had evidently remained secure in this envelope for over one hundred and sixty years.

This lock of hair was a minute human fragment of the historic forces that met in mortal combat on that fateful day, 10th, August 1792, at the Tuileries in Paris around the person of the hapless king Louis the 16th , at the height of the French Revolution.

In passing, it may be observed here that Louis the 16th was the king of France when Kirti Sri Raja Sinha was ruling the Kingdom of Kandy in Ceylon. Some years ago an interesting document was discovered at the French Archives in Pondichery. It was a grant dated 15th February 1777 made by Kirti Sri Raja Singha to Louis the 16th “ in consideration of the friendship may continue always from generation to generation “ By this, king Kirti Sri Raja Singha granted the district of Batticaloa to king Louis 16th of France. The document was written in Tamil and singed by the King also in Tamil.

Coming back to the events of the 10th of August 1792, Clergy, the king’s valet –de- chamber, in his Journal of the Terror describes the day as “ that dreadful day, on which a small number of men over turned a throne that had been established four- teen centuries, threw their king into fetters, and precipitated France into an abyss of calamity’’

The hair came from the head of no less a person than the Cavalry Commander of the Kings own Guards, the count d ‘hervilly , a brave and intrepid Royalist who stood close to the king until, finally, Louis and his family were compelled to leave the Tuileries for the “ sanctuary” of the Assembly that was convened at the riding school facing the garden of the Tuileries.

The attack on the Tuileries was a decisive event of the French Revolution. Following the success of this swift and sanguinary struggle, the authority of the French Legislative Assembly was destroyed and the monarchical constitution overthrown. The medal struck by the French commune on this celebrated occasion bore the legend, “In memory of the glorious combat of the French people against Tyranny at the Tuileries’’.

The engagement at the Tuileries demonstrated only too clearly the weakness and vacillation of the king, Fatal defects, as it transpired, for they eventually cost the king his own life and, also, alas, the lives of so many others who had followed him from a sense of personal loyalty and duty.

The Swiss Guards, for instance, fought valiantly but died in vain for the king. They were a set of mercenaries recruited in the French and German cantos of Switzerland. Nine hundred of them, who had offered their valour for a fee, stood guard with others that day. But out of the nine hundred, only a bare three hundred lived to tell the tale.

The following eye witness accounts of the events describe the atmosphere in which the drama unfolded itself:

“At seven o`clock”, wrote Clery, “The distress was increased by the crowdice of several battalions that successively deserted the Tuileries.

“About four or five hundred of the national Guards remained at their post and displayed equal fidelity and courage: They were placed indiscriminately with the Swiss Guards within the Place, at the different staircases, and at all the entrances.

“These troops having spent the night without taking any refreshment, I eagerly engaged with others of the king’s servants in providing them with bread and wine and encouraging them not to desert the royal family.

“ It was at this time that the king gave the command, within the palace, to the Marechal de Mailly, the Due du Chatelet , The Comte de Puysegur, the Baron de Viomenil, the Comte d`Hervilly, the Marquis du Puget , and other faithful officers.

“ The persons of the Court and the servants were distributed in the different halls, having first sworn to defend the king to the last drop of their blood. We were about three or four hundred strong, but our only arms were swords or pistols ’’

“ I was ’’, wrote Madanne Campan, “ with my companions in the billiard room. We were seated on the elevated benches along the sides of the room, when I saw M.d’Hervilly order the huissier to open the door for the passage of the French nobility” (Journal Vol 1 p 162).

The imminent departure of the king and his family that morning gave cause to more indecision and desertions. The faint-hearted were leaving. “Sorrow’’, clearly records in his Journal of Terror, “was visible on the countenances of most of them, and several were heard to say: ’We swore this morning to defend the king, and in the moment of his greatest danger we are deserting him’.

“Others, in the interest of the conspirators, were abusing and threatening their fellow soldiers whom they forced away. Thus did the well-disposed suffer themselves to be overawed by the seditious, and that culpable weakness, which had all along been productive of the evils of the Revolution, gave birth to calamities of this day” 

But despite these desertions, a gallant section remained to hold the collapsing fort and defend what had eventually become the empty shell of Bourbon Majesty. The Swiss stood fast, in the words of Carlyle, “peaceable and yet immovable; red granite pier in that water-flashing sea of steel” (vide French Revolution by Carlyle Vol 2 

Nobody knows for certain who fired the first shot. For there was noticeable Fraternisation at the beginning when the people encountered some of the National Guards at the Tuileries. But suddenly the deed was done. The fateful shot was fired. Hell was let loose. “what a volley”, exclaims Carlyle, “reverberating doomful to the four corners of Paris like the clang of Bellona’s thongs” (Carlyle ibid). The Swiss defiantly stood their ground, and soon the opposing hordes found themselves being overpowered.

Carlyle records that a strange “patriot onlooker”, watching that memorable scene, was pondering at the time that the Swiss, had they a Commander, would have beaten their enemy. The “patriot onlooker” was none other than Napoleon Bonaparte. On the threshold of his career.

While this fierce battle raged on, an order came from the King for the “Swiss to lay down their arms at once and retire to their barracks”. The officer who carried this order to the Swiss was d’Hervilly “ The incident has often been described as the last act of the absolute Monarchy” ‘(Vide History Today, March 1963 p 192). The original order can still be seen at the Musee Carnavalet in Paris. This ill-fated command brought despair, and made confusion worse confounded among the ranks of the stout-hearted remnants of the King’s defenders. Soon they became an easy prey to the fury of the Revolution.

Six hundred of the Swiss Guards, as observed earlier, perished, some the same day, victims of confusion, misdirection and a chaotic stampede; some the day following, driven defenceless (having earlier laid down their arms on the orders of the king), and massacred in cold blood.

“I went this morning,” wrote Dr John Moore of Glasgow in his Journal during a Residence in France”, to see the places where the action of yesterday happened. The naked bodies of the Swiss……lay exposed on the ground ……of about 800 or 1000 of these….. I am told there are not 200 left alive’’ (quoted in Introduction to Journal of Terror, Folio Society edition 1955 p 7).

d’ Hervilly too- now wounded in the thigh by a stroke of a pike – might. Have shared the gruesome fate of the butchered Swiss had not a Scotsman by the name rescued him “by a kind of miracle”. Thereby hangs the fascinating tale of this lock of hair.

Samuel Johnston was father of Sir Alexender Johnston. On the inside of the envelope that enclosed the hair, Mrs Samuel Johnston had inscribed in French, “ The hairs of the best of my friends, the unfortunate and amiable Comted’Hervilly” – Lester) Maria Johnston.

We do not know whether the lock of hair was gifted to the Johnstons by its owner, or whether it was acquired by them on the death of d’Hervilly in England sometime after the Quiberon misadventure of the French Emigres in June 1795.

Samuel Johnston hailed from Carnsalloch in Dumfrieshire in Scotland. Incidentally, we have another link here with the Revolution. For Robert Burns also hailed from Dumfrieshire. Burns was a contemporary of the Johnstons. Peter Johnston, Member of Parliament for Kirkcud bright, a brother of Samuel, was one of the original subscribers to the first edition of Burns “Collected Works”. Burns was the poet who hailed the birth of the French Revolution in the following hopeful lines:

“ It’s coming yet for a’that

That man to man the warld o’er

Shall brothers be for a ‘that”

Samuel Johnston sailed for India in the East Indiaman Essex in 1781, in a convey which also took Lord Macartney to assume the Governorship of Madras. They had an exciting voyage having been engaged by the French fleet under Suffren at Porto praya off the cape de Verade Islands.

For a time Samuel Johnstons served most successfully as paymaster of the Forces at Madura and Trichinopoly, but while serving at the latter station fell foul of the East India Company, and in1791, was suspended from the service. He had, however, done well in India having befriended the Nabob of Arcot.

In 1792, Samuel Johnston, by then a little nabob himself, was on his way back home. the lie was accompanied by his wife Hester Maria, only daughter of the fifth Lord Napier of Merchiston. A contemporary biography of Sir Alexender Johnston (video biography in National Portrait Gallery) had remarked,

“In 1792 his father and mother returned, and again carried their so with them to France where he was a witness to many of the deplorable scenes which disgraced Paris in July, August and September of ‘that year’.

As Alexander Johnston, who was born in 1775, was known for certain to be studying in Winchester in July 1791, we cannot assume that the son travelled with his parents all the way from India. It is more probable that Alexander met his parents in the continent in1792, on their way back by the overland route from India. Alexander was known to have been a student at Gottingen about this time.

The Scotsman published a letter from Edinburgh by one JWBP in its columns on the 2nd January 1952, where it was stated that “the carriage in which Johnston of Carnsalloch came home across Europe…..in 1792 was lying in a joiners yard in Kirkmahoe, Dumfrieshire, where I saw it a few years ago”.

In any case, the Johnstons were returning from India in 1792. Sir Alexander Johnston had himself written, “My father and mother returned to Europe in 1792, and being in France when their plate, and gold and silver ornaments, my mother entrusted the silver urn, with Montrose’s heart, to an Englishwoman of the name of Knowles, at Boulogne, who promised to secrete it until it could be sent safely to England.

“This person having died shortly afterwards, neither my father or mother in their lifetime nor I myself since their death, have ever been able to trace the urn, although every exertion has been made by me for the purpose; and although within the last few years, I have received from the French Government the value of the plate and jewels which my father and mother had been compelled to give up to the municipality of Calais in 1792.

“To the last hour of her life my mother deeply regretted this loss, and in July 1819, a few days before her death, expressed to me her wishes with regard to the urn, if it should ever be recovered by me” (vide Sir Alexander Johnston’s Letter to his Daughters, 1st July 1836).

The reference to Montrose’s heart is interesting. The late Dr Andreas Nell delivered a fascinating lecture on this subject at Colombo some years ago to the Ceylon Branch of the Royal Empire Society. This heart, which was embalmed and preserved in an urn, had an adventurous career since it was removed from James Graham, Marquis of Montrose, after his execution in 1649. The Napiers treasured it, and the last of the Napiers who came into possession of the heart was the fifth Lord Napier from whom it passed on to his only daughter leister Maria Johnston, mother of Sir Alexander.

How did the Johnstons come to the aid of the count d’Hervilly? The full details of this gallant deed are not available to us at present. A contemporary journal (Morning post?) published in London sometime between 1792 and 1795, when d’Hervilly was an émigré there, had reported the news of the promotion of d’Hervilly to the rank of Major-General by the Empress of Russia, Catherine the Great, in the following words: “The Camp- Marshall Count d’Hervilly, who has just been promoted to the rank of Major-General by the Empress of Russia, is much distinguished by his bravery and intrepidity, of which he gave numerous proofs at the age of 17, while serving under the command of M.le Comte de Jancour.

“He distinguished himself at Rennes, in Brittany, at the head of his Regiment, at the beginning of the Revolution. When surrounded by a lawless mob, who had already torn off his epaulets, and taken hold of his sword to force it from him, he threw it away, and covering himself (his head) with his cloak, he called out to them, presenting his bosom, `Strike here-I shall not know has done it’. These desperadoes, such is the power that Heroism sometimes has over the most ferocious, thereupon left him.

“His zeal and fidelity to Louis XV1, who had appointed him to command his Guards, and near whose person he continued till the time when that unfortunate Monarch was conducted to the Temple, had exposed him as a mark to all the rage of the patriots.

“Wounded in the thigh by the stroke of a pike on the 10th of August, and having been exposed to a shower of musketry, he has escaped by a kind of miracle from all the attempts that have been made to apprehend him.

“He owes his safety to his intrepidity, and to the generosity of an English family, whom prudent motives forbid us to name. But when the misfortunes of France shall be over, the trouble it (the English family) has taken, and the dangers to which it has exposed itself, to save him and some other persons from the perils they were in from their own countrymen, cannot be sufficiently extolled”.

Now it can be told. The “English family” referred to was of course the Johnstons. But we are still in the dark, for although those “ misfortunes of France” are over, and a De Gaulle firmly rules were a Louis XV1 weakly reigned, still we do not know the full circumstances of this memorable incident where an “English family” had plunged itself into the flaming fire of the French Revolution and snatched the Commander of the king’s Guards away to safety. We only know from the notes left behind and a few letters of d’Hervilly that d’ Hervilly had eventually become an intimate friend of the Johnstons, and that he was beholden to them for spiriting him away from certain death in France. “Can I over forget”, wrote d’Hervilly to Mrs Johnstons in one of his letters, “ that I owe you my departure from France?”

d’ Hervilly was a member of the ill-fated Quiberon expedition of French émigrés in June 1795. Indeed it was d’Hervilly who led this disastrous expedition which was half-heartedly and belatedly supported by England. For he was appointed to the supreme command by Provence, who had by then become Louis XV111 on the death of the Dauphin-King Louis XV11, who died in captivity in the Temple. The Count de Puisaye had already been appointed for this post by Provence’s brother Artois on the recommendation of Pitt, the English Prime Minister. But the discord between the two brothers of Louis XV1 was so bitter that Provence, being King, had his way by countermanding the order of his brother Artois and appointing d’Hervilly to the post.

Puisaye, it would appear, agreed to serve under d’Hervilly who with “2500 emigres landed at Quiberon on June 27th and captured fort Penthievre, but his victory was short-lived since on July 20 the fort was recaptured, and all who could not escape by sea were massacred”(vide Cambridge Modern History Vol V111 1934 edition,p472).d’Hervilly and Puisaye were among those who escaped.

One cannot help comparing this abortive attempt at Quebiron in 1795 with a modern parallel, the Cuban invasion in 1961 by émigré’s from Florida. Only the human toll at the latter fiasco was less, thanks to Castro, for Cuba chose to return her prisoners alive for a price rather than mow them down with musketry as the French revolutionaries had done at Quebiron.

D’Hervilly (Louis – Charles), le Comte d’Hervilly to give his full name) returned to London wounded at the battle at Quiberon, and died from his wounds four months later. He was 39 years old when he died, having been born in Paris in 1756. The sad news of his death was conveyed to Mrs Johnston in the following letter: “Madam, the Viscount de Balleroy, his uncle, and the Count de Moustier, his father, have the honour to let you know that the Count d’Hervilly passed away Saturday, the 14th of the Present month”. That was in November 1795. Samuel Johnston died in 1801, his wife 1819. The lock of hair remains, not only to bear testimony to a tender human association but also to illuminate a forgotten incident in the French Revolution.

Alexander Pope, long before the French Revolution, at the beginning of the eighteenth century, wrote a delightful poem on another lock of hair entitled “The Rape of the Lock”. May I be permitted to conclude by borrowing the Muse’s lines and slightly modifying them for the nonce as follows –

“For after all the murders…..

When after million slain…..

When those fair suns shall set, as set they must,

And all those tresses shall be laid in dust,

This lock, we shall consecrate to fame’’