The judges condemned him to death for a crime which in the mother-country had constituted the glory of La Fayette and Mirabeau.
He underwent torture in his dungeon.

The rights of his race, centred and persecuted in him, raised his soul above the torments of his executioners.

"Give up all hope," he exclaimed, with unflinching daring; "give up all hope of extracting from me the name of even one of my accomplices.

My accomplices are everywhere where the heart of a man is raised against the oppressors of men." From that moment he pronounced but two words, which sounded like a remorse in the ears of his persecutors--_Liberty! Equality_! He walked composedly to his death; listened with indignation to the sentence which condemned him to the lingering and infamous death of the vilest criminals.

"What!" he exclaimed; "do you confound me with criminals because I have desired to restore to my fellow-creatures the rights and titles of men which I feel in myself! Well! you have my blood, but an avenger will arise from it!" He died on the wheel, and his mutilated carcase was left on the highway.
This heroic death reached even to the National Assembly, and gave rise to various opinions.