On one occasion, in the early days of his rule, Simon made his pupil the present of a Jew’s harp, at the same time saying, “Your she-wolf of a mother plays on the piano, and you must learn to accompany her on the Jew’s harp!” The dauphin steadily refused to touch the instrument; whereupon the new tutor, in a passion, flew upon him and beat him severely.  Still he was not cowed, although the blows were the first which he had ever received, but bravely answered, “You may punish me if I don’t obey you; but you ought not to beat me—­you are stronger than I.”  “I am here to command you, animal! my duty is just what I please to do; and ‘vive la Liberte, l’Egalite.’” By-and-by personal suffering and violence had become only too common occurrences of his daily life.

About a week after the dauphin was transferred from the little tower, a rumour spread through Paris that the son of Louis XVI. had been carried off from the Temple Tower, and crowds of the sovereign people flocked to the spot to satisfy themselves of its truth.  The guard, who had not seen the boy since he had been taken from his mother’s care, replied that he was no longer in the Tower; “and from that time the popular falsehood gained ground and strength continually.”  In order to quiet the public apprehension, a deputation from the Committee of Public Safety visited Simon, and ordered him to bring down “the tyrant’s son,” so that the incoming guard might see him for themselves.  They then proceeded to cross-question Simon as to the manner in which he discharged his duties.  When that worthy had satisfied them as to his past treatment, he demanded decisive instructions for his future guidance.

“Citizens, what do you decide about the wolf-cub?  He has been taught to be insolent, but I shall know how to tame him.  So much the worse if he sinks under it!  I don’t answer for that.  After all, what do you want done with him?  Do you want him transported?”

“No.”

“Killed?”

“No.”

“Poisoned?”

“No.”

“But what then?”

“We want to get rid of him!”

The guard saw him and questioned him, and some of them even sympathized with him and tried to comfort him; but Simon came and dragged him away with a rough “Come, come, Capet, or I’ll show the citizens how I work you when you deserve it!”

When the commissaries returned to the Convention they were able to announce that the report which had stirred up the populace was false, and that they had seen Capet’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.