The most remarkable thing respecting this noted man occurred at his birth.
_He was born triplets!_
Yes, though "born of parents entirely unknown to history," three different
places have claimed themselves, or been claimed, as his birthplace.
Before his energies became perverted to political aims, he had endeavored
to rise, by his own talent and energies, through the sciences.
The year 1789 found him in the position of veterinary surgeon to the Count
d'Artois, thoroughly disgusted with his failure to rise in society with
the "quacks," as he termed them, "of the Corps Scientifique."
Miss Mühlbach, in her "_Maria Antoinette and her Son_," presents Marat in
conversation with the cobbler, Simon, as follows:--
"The cobbler quickly turned round to confront the questioner. He saw,
standing by his side, a little, remarkably crooked and dwarfed young man,
whose unnaturally large head was set upon narrow, depressed shoulders, and
whose whole (ludicrous) appearance made such an impression upon the
cobbler that he laughed outright.
"'Not beautiful, am I?' asked the stranger, who tried to join in the laugh
with the cobbler, but the result was a mere grimace; which made his
unnaturally large mouth extend from ear to ear, displaying two fearful
rows of long, greenish teeth. 'Not beautiful at all, am I? Dreadful ugly!'
"'You are somewhat remarkable, at least,' replied the cobbler. 'If I did
not hear you speak French, and see you standing upright, I should think
you the monstrous toad in the fable.'
"'I am the monstrous toad of the fable. I have merely disguised myself
to-day as a man, in order to look at this Austrian woman and her brood.'
"'Where do you live, and what is your name, sir?' asked the cobbler, with
glowing curiosity.
"'I live in the stables of the Count d'Artois, and my name is Jean Paul
Marat.'
"'In the stable!' cried the cobbler. 'My faith, I had not supposed you a
hostler or a coachman. It must be a funny sight, M. Marat, to see _you_
mounted upon a horse.'
"'You think that such a big toad does not belong there exactly. Well, you
are right, brother Simon. My real business is not at all with the horses,
but with the men of the stable. I am the horse doctor of the Count
d'Artois, and I can assure you that I am a tolerably skilful doctor.'"
We do not quote the above author as reliable authority in personal
descriptions, beyond the "shrugging of shoulders," which habit she
attributes to all of her characters (_vide_ "Napoleon and Queen Louisa,"
where she uses the phrase some twenty-three times).
At the time of his assuming the dictatorship, he resided in most squalid
apartments, situated in one of the lowest back streets of Paris, in
criminal intimacy with the wife of his printer.... He sold their bed to
get money to bring out the first number of his journal, and lived in
extreme poverty at a time when he could have become immensely rich by
selling his silence.
The death of this wretch was hastened only a few days by his
assassination, for he was already consumed by a disgusting disease, and it
is melancholy to add that he was adored after his death, and his remains
deposited in the Pantheon with national honors, and an altar erected to
his memory in the club of the Cordeliers.
"I killed one man to save a hundred thousand!" exclaimed the magnificent
Charlotte Corday to her judges; "a villain to save innocents, a furious
wild beast, to give repose to my country!" Thus the "horse doctor"
ignominiously perished at the hands of a woman,--a woman who immortalized
herself by killing a "villain."