"It seems，" says a witness who was long acquainted with Maignet， "that all he did for these five or six years was simply the delirious phase of an illness， after which he recovered， and lived on as if nothing had happened."[97] And Maignet himself writes "I was not made for these tempests." That goes for everyone but especially for the coarser natures； subordination would have restrained them while dictatorial power make the instincts of the brute and the mob appear.
Contemplate Duquesnoy， a sort of mastiff， always barking and biting， when gorged he is even more furious. Delegate to the army of the Moselle， and passing by Metz[98] he summoned before him Altmayer， the public prosecutor， although he had sat down to dinner. The latter waits three hours and a half in the ante-chamber， is not admitted， returns， and， at length received， is greeted with a thundering exclamation：
"Who are you？"
"The public prosecutor，" he replies.
"You look like a bishop - you were once a curé or monk - you can't be a revolutionary . . . . I have come to Metz with unlimited powers.
Public opinion here is not satisfactory. I am going to drill it. Iam going to set folks straight here. I mean to shoot， here in Metz， as well as in Nancy， five or six hundred every fortnight."The same at the house of General Bessières， commandant of the town encountering there M. Cledat， an old officer， the second in command， he measures him from head to foot：
"You look like a muscadin. Where did you come from？ You must be a bad republican - you look as if you belonged to the ancient régime.""My hair is gray，" he responds， "but I am not the less a good republican： you may ask the General and the whole town.""Be off！ Go to the devil， and be quick about it， or I will have you arrested！" -The same， in the street， where he lays hold of a man passing， on account of his looks； the justice of the peace， Joly， certifies to the civism of this person， and he "eyes" Joly：
"You too， you are an aristocrat！ I see it in your eyes！ I never make a mistake."Whereupon， tearing off the Judge's badge， he sends him to prison. -Meanwhile， a fire， soon extinguished， breaks out in the army bakery；officers， townspeople， laborers， peasants and even children form a line (for passing water) and Duquesnoy appears to urge them on in his way： using his fists and his foot， he falls on whoever he meets， on an employee in the commissariat， on a convalescent officer， on two men in the line， and many others. He shouts to one of them， "You are a muscadin！" To another：
"I see by your eyes that you are an aristocrat！"To another：
"You are a bloody beggar， an aristocrat， a rascal，"and he strikes him in the stomach； he seizes a fourth by his collar and throws him down on the pavement.[99] In addition to this， all are imprisoned. The fire being extinguished， an indiscreet fellow， who stood by looking on， recommends " the dispenser of blows "to wipe his forehead." "You can't see straight - who are you？ Answer me， I am the representative." The other replies mildly： "Representative， nothing could be more respectable." Duquesnoy gives the unlucky courtier a blow under the nose： "You are disputing - go to prison，" " which I did at once，" adds the docile subject. - That same evening， "whereas， in the conflagration， none of the inhabitants in good circumstances offered their services in extinguishing the fire，[100] and none but sans-culottes came thereto， from the garrison as well as from the commune，" Duquesnoy orders "that a tax of 40，000 livres be imposed on the commune of Metz， levied on the fortunes of the rich and distributed among the poor， payable within ten days."[101] -- "Fais-moi f.... dedans tous ces b... là[102]，" "quatre j...f... àraccourcir；"[103] At Arras， as at Metz， the lout is ever the ruffian and the butcher.
Others are either jolly fellows， or blackguards. A certain AndréDumont， an old village attorney， now king of Picardie， or sultan， as occasion offers， "figures as a white Negro，" sometimes jovial， but generally as a rude hardened cynic， treating female prisoners and petitioners as in a kermesse.[104] - One morning a lady enters his ante-room， and waits amidst about twenty sans-culottes， to solicit the release of her husband. Dumont appears in a morning-gown， seats himself and listens to the petitioner.
"Sit down， citoyenne."
He takes her on his lap， thrusts his hand in her bosom and exclaims：