The Red Shirts. By Paul Golot. (Chatto and Windus.)—This is
a tale of the French Terror, and we are assured by the English translator, Mr. T. A. J. de Villiers, that it "is no fiction, but an artistic rendering of a plot that actually took place during the Reign of Terror,' every important detail being absolutely true." We are told that a certain Baron de Batz—who flits about these pages in a curious way and even lives long enough to see the last of Robespierre and of the intrinsically less ignoble Saint-Just- and that a number of beautiful, cultured, and loving women, with whom the Baron is temporatiiy associated, are actual historical
personages. This is of course interesting information, but it is of secondary consequence. M. Golot has constructed a strong story, and has given a life-like reproduction of a very stormy period of history. Several of the conspirators against the Republic at this time, and especially the female conspirators, such as Marie Grandmaison and Madame de Sainte-Amaranthe, are admirably sketched. A French novel would of course be incomplete without a courtisane, and so M. Golot gives us a portrait of Rose Lacombe. Fortunately, Rose is even more of an intrigmate than of a courtisane, and is therefore not specially repellent, except in so far as she is vindictive. Saint-Just is brought upon the stage and even into society, but he does not appear to be altogether the Saint-Just of popular history. The Red Shirts is not only interesting, but valuable as throwing a side-light on the most tremendous transaction in modern history. It is well written, and seems to be carefully as well as vigorously translated.
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