Where the Light Falls(81)

“I cannot understand,” Kellermann continued. “I may not ever understand…why my dear friend would level these charges against me. No, I can’t understand him. But I can forgive him.”

Kellermann stared a moment longer until Murat, unable to hold his gaze, lowered his eyes to the floor. “Whatever the outcome today, however you find me, I wish this to be known. Nicolai, I forgive you. And to the people of France, may the blessings of liberty be bestowed upon all men, whether born high or low, for all time.”

With that Kellermann sat down, his shoulders seeming to collapse inward as he did so; as if the fortitude required to speak those words and extend that grace had sapped the last of his strength. Hunched forward, he surely heard the gasps of his sobbing wife as she wept into her handkerchief, but he did not turn. And then, André noticed, the soldiers in the courtroom, defying the order of the assembly, began to stand. As if on cue, a hand lifted, and several more followed. Then dozens more. André rose and did the same, and now every soldier and officer in the room stood, hands extended aloft in a salute to the general they loved. Kellermann, turning, saw this. André swore that he saw a lone tear in the old commander’s eye.

Lazare, apparently taken aback by this unexpected and unsanctioned show of solidarity, waited a moment. The room remained quiet, with the judges and the former Jacobins in the crowd sensing, somehow, that they ought not interfere in this act of reverence. The young lawyer beside Lazare, the one who had started off the day, whispered in his superior’s ear, and Lazare shook his head.

And then the judge spoke, his flat voice cutting through the charge of emotions in the hall. “And the prosecution?”

Mouchetard, the younger lawyer, rose and walked to the center of the room. Rubbing his palms together, as if to warm himself, he began. “That was well spoken, General Kellermann. But this court must not be disarmed by emotions. Emotions and sentimentality kept us in darkness, under the yoke of a tyrant for far too long. But now, we are enlightened. Now that we are a free people, those diversionary emotions shall not prevent us from doing our duty, which is the work of the Revolution. If we wish to speak of battles and battlegrounds, well, my fellow citizens, this court is today the foremost battleground of our fight, and here, today, we must do our duty to root out and expose the enemies of the Revolution.”

The crowd, still moved by Kellermann’s address, began to hiss at this Mouchetard. A woman tossed a spool from her knitting over the balcony, and it hit the lawyer in the head, knocking his spectacles loose and prompting an uproarious gust of laughter, both from the gallery and the soldiers below. Seeing this, Lazare stood up.

With that movement from his superior, the young lawyer wavered, withdrawing toward the table like a beaten dog. Lazare strode to the center and the crowd now fell silent. André was certain that, beside him, Madame Kellermann trembled. He couldn’t blame her.

In his signature quiet, Lazare began: “You’ve heard it from the witness. You’ve heard it from the defense. This man, General Kellermann, thought you were wrong when you condemned the tyrant and his foreign wife before this very tribunal. He thought you were wrong to send them to the guillotine.” Lazare folded his hands neatly in front of his narrow waist. “Need I remind you that since this Revolution began, we have faced enemies both within this city and outside our borders? Let’s start with the latter. Armed mercenaries who would have stamped out our Revolution and put that tyrant back on the throne. Yes, those enemies are easy to identify. They wear uniforms and carry the standards of foreign kings as they march across our lands.

“But what of the others? The enemy within our borders? That is an enemy far more perfidious. Far more dangerous, because he is one thousand times harder to identify. And that enemy is the indecisive half patriot. The man who, in his heart, questions our Revolution. The man who affects to celebrate our freedom, declares himself loyal to the Republic, but in the quiet of his mind, he questions. He questions the verdicts we make. The constitution we draft. The actions we must take against our enemies.

“These are the enemies who truly cause me to tremble for our Republic. These are the foes who dwell among us, masquerading as our friends. The Prussians and Austrians are gone. But the more dangerous enemy—those who live with us, and watch us, and yet, despise us—remain ever in our midst. They are still within our borders.”

Lazare paused and André noted, with a fresh pang of despair, just how silent the courtroom had fallen.

“No doubt, the defendant repelled those foreign invaders at Valmy. We thank him for that service, saving the Revolution in its infancy.” Lazare turned then, nodding at Kellermann once, before turning back toward the balcony.