I. The Central Government Administration.
The administrative body at Paris.--Composition of the group
out of which it was recruited.--Deterioration of this
group.--Weeding-out of the Section Assemblies.--Weeding out
of the popular clubs.--Pressure of the government.
To provide these local sovereigns with the subordinate lieutenants and
agents which they require, we have the local Jacobin population, and we
have seen the composition of the recruits,[3301]
* the distressed and the perverted of every class and degree, especially
the lowest,
* the castaways,
* envious and resentful subordinates,
* small shopkeepers in debt,
* the migrating, high-living workers,
* barflies,
* vagrants,
* men of the gutters,
* street-walkers,
--in short, every species of "anti-social vermin," male and
female,[3302] including a few honest crack-brains into which the
fashionable theory had freely found its way; the rest, and by far
the largest number, are veritable beasts of prey, speculating on the
established order of things and adopting the revolutionary faith only
because it provides food for their appetites.--In Paris, they number
five or six thousand, and, after Thermidor, there is about the same
number, the same appetites rallying them around the same dogma,[3303]
levelers and terrorists, "some because they are poor, others because
they have broken off the habit of working at their trade," furious with
"the scoundrels who own a coach house, against the rich and the hoarders
of objects of prime necessity." Many of them "having soiled themselves
during the Revolution, ready to do it again provided the rich rascals,
monopolists and merchants can all be killed," all "frequenters of
popular clubs who think themselves philosophers, although most of
them are unable to read," at the head of them the remnant of the most
notorious political bandits,
* the famous post-master, Drouet, who, in the tribune at the Convention,
declared himself a "brigand,"[3304]
* Javogues, the robber of Montbrison and the "Nero of Ain,"
* the drunkard Casset, formerly a silk-worker and later the pasha of
Thionville,
* Bertrand, the friend of Charlier, the ex-mayor and executioner of
Lyons,
* Darthé, ex-secretary of Lebon and the executioner at Arras,
* Rossignol and nine other Septembriseurs of the Abbaye and the
Carmelites, and, finally, the great apostle of despotic communism,
* Babeuf, who, sentenced to twenty years in irons for the falsification
of public contracts, and as needy as he is vicious, rambles about Paris
airing his disappointed ambitions and empty pockets along with the
swaggering crew who, if not striving to reach the throne by a new
massacre,[3305] tramp through the streets slipshod, for lack of money
"to redeem a pair of boots at the shoemakers," or to sell some snuff-box
their last resource, for a morning dram.[3306]
In this class we see the governing rabble fully and distinctly.
Separated from its forced adherents and the official robots who serve it
as they would any other power, it stands out pure and unalloyed by
any neutral influx; we recognize here the permanent residue, the deep,
settled slime of the social sewer. It is to this sink of vice and
ignorance that the revolutionary government betakes itself for its
staff-officers and its administrative bodies.
Nowhere else could they be found. For the daily task imposed upon them,
and which must be done by them, is robbery and murder; excepting the
pure fanatics, who are few in number, only brutes and blackguards
have the aptitudes and tastes for such business. In Paris, as in the
provinces, it is from the clubs or popular associations in which they
congregate, that they are sought for.--Each section of Paris contains
one of these clubs, in all forty-eight, rallied around the central club
in the Rue St. Honoré, forty-eight district alliances of professional
rioters and brawlers, the rebels and blackguards of the social army, all
the men and women incapable of devoting themselves to a regular life and
useful labor,[3307] especially those who, on the 31st of May and 2nd of
June, had aided the Paris Commune and the "Mountain" in violating the
Convention. They recognize each other by this sign that, "each would
be hung in case of a counter-revolution,"[3308] laying it down "as an
incontestable fact that, should a single aristocrat be spared, all of
them would mount the scaffold."[3309] They are naturally wary and they
stick together: in their clique "everything is done on the basis of good
fellowship;"[3310] no one is admitted except on the condition of having
proved his qualifications "on the 10th of August and 31st of May."[3311]
And, as they have made their way into the Commune and into the
revolutionary committees behind victorious leaders, they are able,
through the certificates of civism which these arbitrarily grant or
refuse, to exclude, not only from political life but, again, from civil
life, whoever is not of their party.
"See," writes one of Danton's correspondents,[3312] "the sort of persons
who easily obtain these certificates,--the Ronsins, the Jourdans, the
Maillards, the Vincents, all bankrupts, keepers of gambling-hells and
cut-throats. Ask these individuals whether they have paid the patriotic
contribution, whether they regularly pay the usual taxes, whether they
give to the poor of their sections, to the volunteer soldiers, etc.;
whether they mount guard or see it regularly done, whether they have
made a loyal declaration for the forced loan. You will find that they
have not.... The Commune issues certificates of civism to its satellites
and refuses them to the best citizens."
The monopoly is obvious; they make no attempt to conceal it; six weeks
later,[3313] it becomes official: several revolutionary committees
decide not to grant certificates of civism to citizens who are not
members of a popular club." And strict exclusion goes on increasing
from month to month. Old certificates are canceled and new ones imposed,
which new certificates have new formalities added to them, a larger
number of endorsers being required and certain kinds of guarantees
being rejected; there is greater strictness in relation to the requisite
securities and qualifications; the candidate is put off until fuller
information can be obtained about him; he is rejected at the slightest
suspicion:[3314] he is only too fortunate if he is tolerated in the
Republic as a passive subject, if he is content to be taxed and taxed
when they please, and if he is not sent to join the "suspects" in
prison; whoever does not belong to the band does not belong to the
community.
Amongst themselves and in their popular club it is worse, for
"the eagerness to get any office leads to every one denouncing each
other; "[3315]
consequently, at the Jacobin club in the rue St. Honoré, and in the
branch clubs of the quarter, there is constant purging, and always in
the same sense, until the faction is cleansed of all honest or passable
alloy and only a minority remains, which has its own way at every
balloting. One of them announces that, in his club, eighty doubtful
members have already been gotten rid of; another that, in his club,
one hundred are going to be excluded.[3316] On Ventose 23, in the
"Bon-Conseil" club, most of the members examined are rejected: "they
are so strict that a man who cannot show that he acted energetically in
critical times, cannot form part of the assembly; he is set aside for
a mere trifle." On Ventôse 13, in the same club, "out of twenty-six
examined, seven only are admitted; one citizen, a tobacco dealer, aged
sixty-eight, who has always performed his duty, is rejected for having
called the president Monsieur, and for having spoken in the tribune
bareheaded; two members, after this, insisted on his being a Moderate,
which is enough to keep him out." Those who remain, consist of the
most restless and most loquacious, the most eager for office, the
self-mutilated club being thus reduced to a nucleus of charlatans and
scoundrels.
To these spontaneous eliminations through which the club deteriorates,
add the constant pressure through which the Committee of Public Safety
frightens and degrades it. The lower the revolutionary government sinks,
and the more it concentrates its power, the more servile and sanguinary
do its agents and employees become. It strikes right and left as
a warning; it imprisons or decapitates the turbulent among its own
clients, the secondary demagogues who are impatient at not being
principal demagogues, the bold who think of striking a fresh blow in
the streets, Jacques Roux, Vincent, Momoro, Hébert, leaders of the
Cordeliers club and of the Commune. After these, the indulgent who
are disposed to exercise some discernment or moderation in terrorism,
Camille Desmoulins, Danton and their adherents; and lastly, many others
who are more or less doubtful, compromised or compromising, wearied or
eccentric, from Maillard to Chaumette, from Antonelle to Chabot, from
Westermann to Clootz. Each of the proscribed has a gang of followers,
and suddenly the whole gang are obliged to do a volte-face; those who
were able to show initiative, grovel, while those who could show mercy,
become hardened. Henceforth, amongst the subaltern Jacobins, the roots
of independence, humanity, and loyalty, hard to extirpate even in an
ignoble and cruel nature, are eradicated even to the last fiber,
the revolutionary staff, already so debased, becoming more and
more degraded, until it is worthy of the office assigned to it. The
confidants of Hébert, those who listen to Chaumette, the comrades of
Westermann, the officers of Ronsin, the faithful readers of Camille,
the admirers and devotees of Danton, all are bound to publicly repudiate
their incarcerated friend or leader and approve of the decree which
sends him to the scaffold, to applaud his calumniators, to overwhelm
him on trial: this or that judge or juryman, who is one of Danton's
partisans, is obliged to stifle a defense of him, and, knowing him to be
innocent, pronounce him guilty; one who had often dined with Desmoulins
is not only to guillotine him, but, in addition to this, to guillotine
his young widow. Moreover, in the revolutionary committees, at the
Commune, in the offices of the Committee of General Safety, in the
bureau of the Central Police, at the headquarters of the armed force, at
the revolutionary Tribunal, the service to which they are compelled to
do becomes daily more onerous and more repulsive. To denounce neighbors,
to arrest colleagues, to go and seize innocent persons, known to be
such, in their beds, to select in the prisons the thirty or forty
unfortunates who form the daily food of the guillotine, to "amalgamate"
them haphazard, to try them and condemn them in a lot, to escort
octogenarian women and girls of sixteen to the scaffold, even under
the knife-blade, to see heads dropping and bodies swinging, to contrive
means for getting rid of a multitude of corpses, and for removing the
too-visible stains of blood. Of what species do the beings consist, who
can accept such a task, and perform it day after day, with the prospect
of doing it indefinitely? Fouquier-Tinville himself succumbs. One
evening, on his way to the Committee of Public Safety, "he feels unwell"
on the Pont-Neuf and exclaims: "I think I see the ghosts of the
dead following us, especially those of the patriots I have had
guillotined!"[3317] And at another time: "I would rather plow the ground
than be public prosecutor. If I could, I would resign."--The government,
as the system becomes aggravated, is forced to descend lower still that
it may find suitable instruments; it finds them now only in the lowest
depths: in Germinal, to renew the Commune, in Floréal, to renew the
ministries, in Prairial, to re-compose the revolutionary Tribunal,
month after month, purging and re-constituting the committees of
each quarter[3318] of the city. In vain does Robespierre, writing
and re-writing his secret lists, try to find men able to maintain
the system; he always falls back on the same names, those of unknown
persons, illiterate, about a hundred knaves or fools with four or five
second-class despots or fanatics among them, as malevolent and as narrow
as himself.--The purifying crucible has been used too often and for too
long a time; it has overheated; what was sound, or nearly so, in the
elements of the primitive fluid has been forcibly evaporated; the rest
has fermented and become acid; nothing remains in the bottom of the
vessel but the lees of stupidity and wickedness, their concentrated and
corrosive dregs.
II. Subaltern Jacobins.
Quality of subaltern leaders.--How they rule in the section
assemblies.--How they seize and hold office.
Such are the subordinate sovereigns[3319] who in Paris, during 14 months
dispose as they please, of fortunes, liberties and lives.--And first,
in the section assemblies, which still maintain a semblance of popular
sovereignty, they rule despotically and uncontested.--
"A dozen or fifteen men wearing a red cap,[3320] well-informed or not,
claim the exclusive right of speaking and acting, and if any other
citizen with honest motives happens to propose measures which he thinks
proper, and which really are so, no attention is paid to these measures,
or, if it is, it is only to show the members composing the assemblage
of how little account they are. These measures are accordingly rejected,
solely because they are not presented by one of the men in a red cap, or
by somebody like themselves, initiated in the mysteries of the section."
"Sometimes," says one of the leaders,[3321] "we find only ten members of
the club at the general assembly of the section; but there are enough
of us to intimidate the rest. Should any citizen of the section make a
proposition we do not like, we rise and shout that he is an schemer,
or a signer (of former constitutional petitions). In this way we impose
silence on those who are not in line with the club."--
Since September, 1793, operation is all the easier because the majority,
is now composed of beasts of burden, ruled with an iron hand.
"When something has to be effected that depends on intrigue or on
private interest,[3322] the motion is always put by one of the members
of the Revolutionary Committee of the section, or by one of those
fanatical patriots who join in with the Committee, and otherwise act
as its spies. Immediately the ignorant men, to whom Danton has allowed
forty sous for each meeting, and who, from now on crowd an assembly,
where they never came before, welcome the proposition with loud
applause, shouting and demanding a vote, and the act is passed
unanimously, notwithstanding the contrary opinions of all well-informed
and honest citizens. Should any one dare make an objection, he would run
the risk of imprisonment as a suspect,[3323] after being treated as an
aristocrat or federalist, or at least, refused a certificate of civism,
( a serious matter) if he had the misfortune to need one, did his
survival depend on this, either as employee or pensioner."--In the
Maison-Commune section, most of the auditory are masons, "excellent
patriots," says one of the clubbists of the quarter:[3324] they
always vote on our side; we make them do what we want." Numbers of
day-laborers, cab-drivers, cartmen and workmen of every class, thus earn
their forty sous, and have no idea that anything else might be demanded
from them. On entering the hall, when the meeting opens, they write down
their names, after which they go out "to take a drink," without thinking
themselves obliged to listen to the rigmarole of the orators; towards
the end, they come back, make all the noise that is required of them
with their lungs, feet and hands, and then go and "take back their card
and get their money."[3325]--With paid applauders of this stamp, they
soon get the better of any opponents, or, rather, all opposition is
suppressed beforehand. "The best citizens keep silent" in the section
assemblies, or "stay away;" these are simply "gambling-shops" where
"the most absurd, the most unjust, the most impolitic of resolutions are
passed at every moment.[3326] Moreover, citizens are ruined there by the
unlimited sectional expenditure, which exceeds the usual taxation and
the communal expenses, already very heavy. At one time, some carpenter
or locksmith, member of the Revolutionary Committee, wants to construct,
enlarge or decorate a hall, and it is necessary to agree with him.
Again, a poor speech is made, full of exaggeration and political
extravagance, of which three, four, five and six thousand impressions
are ordered to be printed. Then, to cap the climax, following the
example of the Commune, no accounts are rendered, or, if this is done
for form's sake, no fault must be found with them, under penalty of
suspicion, etc."--The twelve leaders, proprietors and distributors of
civism, have only to agree amongst themselves to share the profits, each
according to his appetite; henceforth, cupidity and vanity are free
to sacrifice the common weal, under cover of the common interest.--The
pasture is vast and it is at the disposal of the leaders. In one of his
orders of the day, Henriot says:[3327]
"I am very glad to announce to my brethren in arms that all the
positions are at the disposal of the government. The actual government,
which is revolutionary, whose intentions are pure, and which merely
desires the happiness of all,.... will search everywhere, even into the
attics for virtuous men,.... poor and genuine sans-culottes." And
there is enough to satisfy them thirty-five thousand places of public
employment in the capital alone:[3328] it is a rich mine; already,
before the month of May, 1793, "the Jacobin club boasted of having
placed nine thousand agents in the administration,"[3329] and since
the 2nd of June, "virtuous men, poor, genuine sans-culottes," arrive
in crowds from "their garrets," dens and hired rooms, each to grab his
share.--They besiege and install themselves by hundreds the ancient
offices in the War, Navy and Public-Works departments, in the Treasury
and Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Here they rule, constantly denouncing
all the remaining, able employees thus creating vacancies in order to
fill them.[3330] Then there are twenty new administrative departments
which they keep for themselves: commissioners of the first confiscation
of national property, commissioners of national property arising
from emigrants and the convicted, commissioners of conscripted
carriage-horses, commissioners on clothing, commissioners on the
collecting and manufacturing of saltpeter, commissioners on monopolies,
civil-commissioners in each of the forty-eight sections, commissioners
on propagandas in the departments, Commissioners on provisions, and many
others. Fifteen hundred places are counted in the single department of
subsistence in Paris,[3331] and all are salaried. Here, already, are
a number of desirable offices.--Some are for the lowest rabble, two
hundred, at twenty sous a day, paid to "stump-speakers," employed to
direct opinion in the Palais-Royal, also among the Tuileries groups,
as well as in the tribunes of the Convention and of the
Hôtel-de-Ville;[3332] two hundred more at four hundred francs per annum,
to waiters in coffee-houses, gambling-saloons and hotels, for watching
foreigners and customers; hundreds of places at two, three, and five
francs a day with meals, for the guardians of seals, and for garrisoning
the domiciles of "suspects"; thousands, with premiums, pay, and full
license, for brigands who, under Ronsin, compose the revolutionary army,
and for the gunners, paid guard and gendarmes of Henriot.--The principal
posts, however, are those which subject lives and freedom to the
discretion of those who occupy them: for, through this more than
regal power, they possess all other power, and such is that of the men
composing the forty-eight revolutionary committees, the bureaus of the
Committee of General Security and of the Commune, and the staff-officers
of the armed force. They are the prime-movers and active incentives
of the system of Terror, all picked Jacobins and tested by repeated
selection, all designated or approved by the Central Club, which claims
for itself the monopoly of patriotism, and which, erected into a supreme
council of the party, issues no patent of orthodoxy except to its own
henchmen.[3333]
They immediately assume the tone and arrogance of dictatorship. " Pride
has reached its highest point:[3334]... One who, yesterday, had no post
and was amiable and honest, has become haughty and insolent because,
deceived by appearances, his fellow-citizens have elected him
commissioner, or given him some employment or other." Henceforth, he
behaves like a Turkish agha amongst infidels, and, in command, carries
things out with a high hand.--On the 20th of Vendémiaire, year II., "in
the middle of the night," the committee of the Piques section summons
M. Bélanger, the architect. He is notified that his house is wanted
immediately for a new Bastille.--"But, said he, 'I own no other, and it
is occupied by several tenants; it is decorated with models of art, and
is fit only for that purpose.'--'Your house or you go to prison!'--'But
I shall be obliged to indemnify my tenants.'--'Either your house or
you go to prison; as to indemnities, we have vacant lodgings for your
tenants, as well as for yourself, in (the prisons of) La Force, or
Sainte-Pélagie.' Twelve sentinels on the post start off at once and take
possession of the premises; the owner is allowed six hours to move
out and is forbidden, henceforth, to return; the bureaus, to which he
appeals, interpret his obedience as 'tacit adhesion,' and, very soon, he
himself is locked up."[3335]--Administrative tools that cut so sharply
need the greatest care, and, from time to time, they are carefully
oiled:[3336] on the 20th of July, 1793, two thousand francs are given to
each of the forty-eight committees, and eight thousand francs to General
Henriot, "for expenses in watching anti-revolutionary maneuvers;" on the
7th of August, fifty thousand francs "to indemnify the less successful
members of the forty-eight committees;" three hundred thousand francs
to Gen. Henriot "for thwarting conspiracies and securing the triumph of
liberty;" fifty thousand francs to the mayor, "for detecting the plots
of the malevolent;" on the 10th of September, forty thousand francs
to the mayor, president and procureur-syndic of the department, "for
measures of security;" on the 13th of September, three hundred thousand
francs to the mayor "for preventing the attempts of the malevolent;" on
the 15th of November, one hundred thousand francs to the popular
clubs, "because these are essential to the propagation of sound
principles."--Moreover, besides gratuities and a fixed salary, there
are the gratifications and perquisites belonging to the office.[3337]
Henriot appoints his comrades on the staff of paid spies and
denunciators, and, naturally, they take advantage of their position
to fill their pockets; under the pretext of incivism, they multiply
domiciliary visits, make the master of the house ransom himself, or
steal what suits them on the premises.[3338]--In the Commune, and on the
revolutionary-committees, every extortion can be, and is, practiced.
"I know," says Quevremont, "two citizens who have been put in prison,
without being told why, and, at the end of three weeks or a month,
let out and do you know how? By paying, one of them, fifteen thousand
livres, and the other, twenty-five thousand.... Gambron, at La Force,
pays one thousand five hundred livres a month for a room not to live
amongst lice, and besides this, he had to pay a bribe of two thousand
livres on entering. This happened to many others who, again, dared not
speak of it, except in a whisper."[3339]
Woe to the imprudent who, never concerning themselves with public
affairs, and relying on their innocence, discard the officious broker
and fail to pay up at once! Brichard, the notary, having refused or
tendered too late, the hundred thousand crowns demanded of him, is to
put his head "at the red window."--And I omit ordinary rapine, the vast
field open to extortion through innumerable inventories, sequestrations
and adjudications, through the enormities of contractors, through
hastily executed purchases and deliveries, through the waste of two
or three millions given weekly by the government to the Commune for
supplies for the capital, through the requisitions of grain which give
fifteen hundred men of the revolutionary army an opportunity to clean
out all the neighboring farms, as far as Corbeil and Meaux, and benefit
by this after the fashion of the chauffeurs.[3340]--With such a staff,
these anonymous thefts cannot surprise us. Babeuf, the falsifier of
public contracts, is secretary for provisions to the Commune; Maillard,
the Abbaye Septembriseur, receives eight thousand francs for his
direction, in the forty-eight sections, of the ninety-six observers and
leaders of public opinion; Chrétien, whose smoking-shop serves as the
rendezvous of rowdies, becomes a juryman at eighteen francs a day in the
revolutionary Tribunal, and leads his section with uplifted saber;[3341]
De Sade, professor of crimes, is now the oracle of his quarter, and, in
the name of the Piques Section, he reads addresses to the Convention.
III. A Revolutionary Committee.
A Minister of Foreign Affairs.--A General in command.--The
Paris Commune.--A Revolutionary Committee.
Let us examine some of these figures closely: the nearer they are to the
eye and foremost in position, the more the importance of the duty brings
into light the unworthiness of the potentate.--There is already one of
them, whom we have seen in passing, Buchot, twice noticed by Robespierre
under his own hand as "a man of probity, energetic and capable of
fulfilling the most important functions,"[3342] appointed by the
Committee of Public Safety "Commissioner on External Relations," that is
to say, Minister of Foreign Affairs, and kept in this important position
for nearly six months. He is a school-master from the Jura,[3343]
recently disembarked from his small town and whose "ignorance, low
habits and stupidity surpass anything that can be imagined... The chief
clerks have nothing to do with him; he neither sees nor asks for them.
He is never found in his office, and when it is indispensable to ask for
his signature on any legislative matter, the sole act to which he has
reduced his functions, they are compelled to go and force it from him in
the Café Hardy, where he usually passes his days." It must be borne
in mind that he is envious and spiteful, avenging himself for his
incapacity on those whose competency makes him sensible of his
incompetence; he denounces them as Moderates, and, at last, succeeds in
having a warrant of arrest issued against his four chief clerks; on the
morning of Thermidor 9, with a wicked leer, he himself carries the news
to one of them, M. Miot. Unfortunately for him, after Thermidor, he is
turned out and M. Miot is put in his place. With diplomatic politeness,
the latter calls on his predecessor and "expresses to him the usual
compliments." Buchot, insensible to compliments, immediately thinks
of the substantial, and the first thing he asks for is to keep
provisionally his apartment in the ministry. On this being granted, he
expresses his thanks and tells M. Miot that it was very well to appoint
him, but "for myself, it is very disagreeable. I have been obliged to
come to Paris and quit my post in the provinces, and now they leave me
in the street." Thereupon, with astounding impudence, he asks the man
whom he wished to guillotine to give him a place as ministerial clerk.
M. Miot tries to make him understand that for a former minister to
descend so low would be improper. Buchot regards such delicacy as
strange, and, seeing M. Miot's embarrassment, he ends by saying: "If you
don't find me fit for a clerk, I shall be content with the place of a
servant." This estimate of himself shows his proper value.
The other, whom we have also met before, and who is already known by
his acts,[3344] general in Paris of the entire armed force,
commander-in-chief of one hundred and ten thousand men, is that former
servant or under-clerk of the procureur Formey, who, dismissed by
his employer for robbery, shut up in Bicêtre, by turns a runner and
announcer for a traveling show, barrier-clerk and September assassin,
has purged the Convention on the 2nd of June--in short, the famous
Henriot, and now simply a brute and a sot. In this latter capacity,
spared on the trial of the Hébertists, he is kept as a tool, for the
reason, doubtless, that he is narrow, coarse and manageable, more
compromised than anybody else, good for any job, without the slightest
chance of becoming independent, unemployed in the army,[3345] having
no prestige with true soldiers, a general for street parade and an
interloper and lower than the lowest of the mob; his mansion, his box at
the Opera-Comique, his horses, his importance at festivals and reviews,
and, above all, his orgies make him perfectly content.--Every
evening, in full uniform, escorted by his aides-de-camp, he gallops to
Choisy-sur-Seine, where, in the domicile of a flatterer named Fauvel,
along with some of Robespierre's confederates or the local demagogues,
he revels. They toss off the wines of the Duc de Coigny, smash
the glasses, plates and bottles, betake themselves to neighboring
dance-rooms and kick up a row, bursting in doors, and breaking benches
and chairs to pieces--in short, they have a good time.--The next
morning, having slept himself sober, he dictates his orders for the day,
veritable masterpieces in which the silliness, imbecility and credulity
of a numskull, the sentimentality of the drunkard, the clap-trap of
a mountebank and the tirades of a cheap philosopher form an unique
compound, at once sickening and irritating, like the fiery, pungent
mixtures of cheap bars, which suit his audience better because they
contain the biting, mawkish ingredients that compose the adulterated
brandy of the Revolution.--He is posted on foreign maneuvers, and
enlarges upon the true reasons for the famine: "A lot of bread has been
lately found in the privies: the Pitts and Cobourgs and other rascals
who want to enslave justice and reason, and assassinate philosophy, must
be called to account for this. Headquarters, etc."[3346] He has
theories on religions and preaches civic modesty to all dissenters: "The
ministers and sectaries of every form of worship are requested not to
practice any further religious ceremonies outside their temples. Every
good sectarian will see the propriety of observing this order. The
interior of a temple is large enough for paying one's homage to the
Eternal, who requires no rites that are repulsive to every thinking man.
The wise agree that a pure heart is the sublimest homage that Divinity
can desire. Headquarters, etc."--He sighs for the universal idyllic
state, and invokes the suppression of the armed force:
"I beg my fellow-citizens, who are led to the criminal courts out of
curiosity, to act as their own police; this is a task which every good
citizen should fulfill wherever he happens to be. In a free country,
justice should not be secured by pikes and bayonets, but through reason
and philosophy. These must maintain a watchful eye over society; these
must purify it and proscribe thieves and evil-doers. Each individual
must bring his small philosophic portion with him and, with these
small portions, compose a rational totality that will turn out to be of
benefit and to the welfare of all. Oh, for the time when functionaries
shall be rare, when the wicked shall be overthrown, when the law shall
become the sole functionary in society! Headquarters, etc. "--Every
morning, he preaches in the same pontifical strain. Imagine the
scene--Henriot's levee at head-quarters, and a writing table, with,
perhaps, a bottle of brandy on it; on one side of the table, the rascal
who, while buckling on his belt or drawing on his boots, softens his
husky voice, and, with his nervous twitchings, flounders through his
humanitarian homily; on the other side the mute, uneasy secretary, who
may probably be able to spell, but who dares not materially change the
grotesque phraseology of his master.
The Commune which employs the commanding-general is of about the same
alloy, for, in the municipal sword, the blade and hilt, forged together
in the Jacobin shop, are composed of the same base metal.--Fifty-six,
out of eighty-eight members, whose qualifications and occupations are
known, are decidedly illiterate, or nearly so, their education being
rudimentary, or none at all.[3347] Some of them are petty clerks,
counter-jumpers and common scribblers, one among them being a public
writer; others are small shopkeepers, pastry-cooks, mercers, hosiers,
fruit-sellers and wine-dealers; yet others are simple mechanics or
even laborers, carpenters, joiners, cabinet-makers, locksmiths,
and especially three tailors, four hair-dressers, two masons, two
shoemakers, one cobbler, one gardener; one stone-cutter, one paver,
one office-runner, and one domestic. Among the thirty-two who are
instructed, one alone has any reputation, Paris, professor at the
University and the assistant of Abbé Delille. Only one, Dumetz, an
old engineer, steady, moderate and attending to the supplies, seems a
competent and useful workman. The rest, collected from amongst the mass
of unknown demagogues, are six art-apprentices or bad painters, six
business-agents or ex-lawyers, seven second or third-rate merchants, one
teacher, one surgeon, one unfrocked married priest, all of whom, under
the political direction of Mayor Fleuriot-Lescot and Payen, the national
agent, bring to the general council no administrative ability, but the
faculty for verbal argumentation, along with the requisite amount of
talk and scribbling indispensable to a deliberative assembly. And it is
curious to see them in session. Toward the end of September, 1793,[3348]
one of the veterans of liberal philosophy and political economy,
belonging to the French Academy and ruined by the Revolution, the old
Abbé Morellet, needs a certificate of civism, to enable him to
obtain payment of the small pension of one thousand francs, which the
Constituent Assembly had voted him in recompense for his writings; the
Commune, desiring information about this, selects three of its body
to inquire into it. Morellet naturally takes the preliminary steps. He
first writes "a very humble, very civic note," to the president of the
General Council, Lubin Jr., formerly an art-apprentice who had abandoned
art for politics, and is now living with his father a butcher, in the
rue St. Honoré; he calls on this authority, and passes through the
stall, picking his way amongst the slaughterhouse offal; admitted after
some delay, he finds his judge in bed, before whom he pleads his cause.
He then calls upon Bernard, an ex-priest, "built like an incendiary
and ill-looking," and respectfully bows to the lady of the house,
"a tolerably young woman, but very ugly and very dirty." Finally, he
carries his ten or a dozen volumes to the most important of the three
examiners, Vialard, "ex-ladies' hair-dresser;" the latter is almost
a colleague, "for," says he, "I have always liked technicians, having
presented to the Academy of Sciences a top which I invented myself."
Nobody, however, had seen the petitioner in the streets on the 10th of
August, nor on the 2nd of September, nor on the 31st of May; how can a
certificate of civism be granted after such evidences of lukewarmness?
Morellet, not disheartened, awaits the all-powerful hair-dresser at the
Hôtel-de-Ville, and accosts him frequently as he passes along. He,
"with greater haughtiness and distraction than the most unapproachable
Minister of War would show to an infantry lieutenant," scarcely listens
to him and walks on; he goes in and takes his seat, and Morellet, much
against his will, has to be present at ten or twelve of these meetings.
What strange meetings, to which patriotic deputations, volunteers and
amateurs come in turn to declaim and sing; where the president, Lubin,
"decorated with his scarf," shouts the Marseilles Hymn five or six
times, "Ca Ira," and other songs of several stanzas, set to tunes of
the Comic Opera, and always "out of time, displaying the voice, airs
and songs of an exquisite Leander.. . I really believe that, at the
last meeting, he sung alone in this manner three quarters of an hour
at different times, the assembly repeating the last line of the
verse."--"How odd!" exclaims a common woman alongside of Morellet, "how
droll, passing all their time here, singing in that fashion! Is that
what they come here for?"--Not alone for that: after the circus-parade
is over, the ordinary haranguers, and especially the hair-dresser, come
and propose measures for murder "in infuriate language and with fiery
gesticulation." Such are the good speakers[3349] and men for show. The
others, who remain silent, and hardly know to write, act and do the
rough work. A certain Chalaudon, member of the Commune,[3350] is one of
this kind, president of the Revolutionary Committee of the section
of "L'Homme armé," and probably an excellent man-hunter; for "the
government committees assigned to him the duty of watching the right
bank of the Seine, and, with extraordinary powers conferred on him, he
rules from his back shop one half of Paris. Woe to those he has reason
to complain of, those who have withdrawn from, or not given him, their
custom! Sovereign of his quarter up to Thermidor 10, his denunciations
are death-warrants. Some of the streets, especially that of Grand
Chantier, he "depopulates." And this Marais exterminator is a "cobbler,"
a colleague in leather, as well as in the Commune, of Simon the
shoemaker, the preceptor and murderer of the young Dauphin.
Still lower down than this admirable municipal body, let us try
to imagine, from at least one complete example, the forty-eight
revolutionary committees who supply it with hands.--There is one of them
of which we know all the members, where the governing class, under full
headway, can be studied on the spot and in action.[3351] This consists
of the underworld, nomadic class which is revolutionary only through
its appetites; no theory and no convictions animate it; during the first
three years of the Revolution it pays no attention to, or cares for,
public matters; if, since the 10th of August, and especially since the
2nd of June, it takes any account of these, it is to get a living and
gorge itself with plunder.--Out of eighteen members, simultaneously
or in succession, of the "Bonnet Rouge," fourteen, before the 10th
of August and especially since the 2nd of June, are unknown in this
quarter, and had taken no part in the Revolution. The most prominent
among these are three painters, heraldic, carriage and miniature,
evidently ruined and idle on account of the Revolution, a candle-dealer,
a vinegar-dealer, a manufacturer of saltpeter, and a locksmith; while of
these seven personages, four have additionally enhanced the dignity
of their calling by vending tickets for small lotteries, acting as
pawnbrokers or as keepers of a biribi[3352] saloon. Seated along with
these are two upper-class domestics, a hack-driver, an ex-gendarme
dismissed from the corps, a cobbler on the street corner, a runner on
errands who was once a carter's boy, and another who, two months before
this, was a scavenger's apprentice, the latter penniless and in tatters
before he became one of the Committee, and since that, well clad, lodged
and furnished. Finally, a former dealer in lottery-tickets, himself a
counterfeiter by his own admission, and a jail-bird. Four others have
been dismissed from their places for dishonesty or swindling, three are
known drunkards, two are not even Frenchmen, while the ring-leader,
the man of brains of this select company is, as usual, a seedy, used-up
lawyer, the ex-notary Pigeot, and expelled from his professional body
on account of bankruptcy. He is probably the author of the following
speculation: After the month of September, 1793, the Committee, freely
arresting whomsoever it pleased in the quarter, and even outside of it,
makes a haul of "three hundred heads of families" in four months, with
whom it fills the old barracks it occupies in the rue de Sèvres. In
this confined and unhealthy tenement, more than one hundred and twenty
prisoners are huddled together, sometimes ten in one room, two in the
same bed, and, for their keeping, they pay three hundred francs a day.
As sixty-two francs of this charge are verified, there is of this sum,
(not counting other extortions or concessions which are not official),
two hundred and thirty-eight francs profit daily for these 'honest'
contractors. Accordingly, they live freely and have "the most
magnificent dinners" in their assembly chamber; the contribution of ten
or twelve francs apiece is "nothing" for them.--But, in this opulent St.
Germain quarter, so many rich and noble men and women form a herd
which must be conveniently stalled, so as to be the more easily milked.
Consequently, toward the end of March, 1794, the Committee, to increase
its business and fill up the pen, hires a large house on the corner of
the boulevard possessing a court and a garden, where the high society of
the quarter is assigned lodgings of two rooms each, at twelve francs a
day, which gives one hundred and fifty thousand livres per annum,
and, as the rent is twenty-four hundred francs, the Committee gain one
hundred and forty-seven thousand six hundred livres by the operation;
we must add to this twenty sorts of profit in money and other
matters--taxes on the articles consumed and on supplies of every
description, charges on the dispatch and receipt of correspondence and
other gratuities, such as ransoms and fees. A penned-up herd refuses
nothing to its keepers,[3353] and this one less than any other; for
if this herd is plundered it is preserved, its keepers finding it too
lucrative to send it to the slaughter-house. During the last six months
of Terror, but two out of the one hundred and sixty boarders of the
"Bonnet Rouge" Committee are withdrawn from the establishment and handed
over to the guillotine. It is only on the 7th and 8th of Thermidor that
the Committee of Public Safety, having undertaken to empty the prisons,
breaks in upon the precious herd and disturbs the well-laid scheme,
so admirably managed.--It was only too well managed, for it excited
jealousy; three months after Thermidor, the "Bonnet Rouge" committee
is denounced and condemned; ten are sentenced to twenty years in
irons, with the pillory in addition, and, among others, the clever
notary,[3354] amidst the jeering and insults of the crowd.--And yet
these are not the worst; their cupidity had mollified their ferocity.
Others, less adroit in robbing, show greater cruelty in murdering. In
any event, in the provinces as well as in Paris, in the revolutionary
committees paid three francs a day for each member, the quality of
one or the other of the officials is about the same. According to the
pay-lists which Barère keeps, there are twenty-one thousand five hundred
of these committees in France.[3355]
IV. Provincial Administration.
The administrative staff in the provinces.--Jacobinism less
in the departmental towns than in Paris.--Less in the
country than in the towns.--The Revolutionary Committees in
the small communes.--Municipal bodies lukewarm in the
villages.--Jacobins too numerous in bourgs and small towns.
--Unreliable or hampered as agents when belonging to the
administrative bodies of large or moderate-sized towns.
--Deficiency of locally recruited staff.
Had the laws of March 21 and September 5, 1793, been strictly enforced,
there would, instead of 21,500 have been 45,000 of these revolutionary
committees. They would have been composed of 540,000 members costing
the public 591 millions per year.[3356] This would have made the regular
administrative body, already twice as numerous and twice as costly
as under the ancient régime, an extra corps expending, "simply in
surveillance," one hundred millions more than the entire taxation of
the country, the greatness of which had excited the people against the
ancient régime.--Happily, the poisonous and monstrous fungal growth was
only able to achieve half its intended size; neither the Jacobin seed
nor the bad atmosphere it required to make it spread could be found
anywhere. "The people of the provinces," says a contemporary,[3357] "are
not up to the level of the Revolution; it opposes old habits and
customs and the resistance of inertia to innovations which it does not
understand." "The plowman is an estimable man," writes a missionary
representative, "but he is generally a poor patriot."[3358] Actually,
there is on the one hand, less of human sediment in the departmental
towns than in the great Parisian sink, and, on the other hand, the rural
population, preserved from intellectual miasmas, better resists
social epidemics than the urban population. Less infested with vicious
adventurers, less fruitful in disordered intellects, the provinces
supply a corps of inquisitors and terrorists with greater difficulty.
And first, in the thousands of communes which have less than five
hundred inhabitants,[3359] in many other villages of greater population,
but scattered[3360] and purely agricultural, especially in those in
which patois is spoken, there is a scarcity of suitable subjects for a
revolutionary committee. People make use of their hands too much;
horny hands do not write every day; nobody desires to take up a pen,
especially to keep a register that may be preserved and some day or
other prove compromising. It is already a difficult matter to recruit
a municipal council, to find a mayor, the two additional municipal
officers, and the national agent which the law requires; in the small
communes, these are the only agents of the revolutionary government, and
I fancy that, in most cases, their Jacobin fervor is moderate. Municipal
officer, national agent or mayor, the real peasant of that day belongs
to no party, neither royalist nor republican;[3361] his ideas are
rare, too transient and too sluggish, to enable him to form a political
opinion. All he comprehends of the Revolution is that which nettles him,
or that which he sees every day around him, with his own eyes; to him
'93 and '94 are and will remain "the time of bad paper (money) and great
fright," and nothing more.[3362] Patient in his habits., he submits to
the new as he did to the ancient régime, bearing the load put on his
shoulders, and stooping down for fear of a heavier one. He is often
mayor or national agent in spite of himself; he has been obliged to take
the place and would gladly throw the burden off. For, as times go, it
is onerous; if he executes decrees and orders, he is certain to make
enemies; if he does not execute them, he is sure to be imprisoned; he
had better remain, or go back home "Gros-Jean," as he was before. But he
has no choice; the appointment being once made and confirmed, he cannot
decline, nor resign, under penalty of being a "suspect;" he must be the
hammer in order not to become the anvil. Whether he is a wine-grower,
miller, ploughman or quarry-man, he acts reluctantly, "submitting a
petition for resignation," as soon as the Terror diminishes, on the
ground that "he writes badly," that "he knows nothing whatever about law
and is unable to enforce it;" that "he has to support himself with his
own hands;" that "he has a family to provide for, and is obliged to
drive his own cart" or vehicle; in short, entreating that he "may be
relieved of his charge."[3363]--These involuntary recruits are evidently
nothing more than common laborers; if they drag along the revolutionary
cart they do it like their horses, because they are pressed into the
service.
Above the small communes, in the large villages possessing a
revolutionary committee, and also in certain bourgs, the horses in
harness often pretend to draw and do not, for fear of crushing some
one.--At this epoch, a straggling village, especially when isolated, in
an out-of-the-way place and on no highway, is a small world in itself,
much more secluded than now-a-days, much less accessible to Parisian
verbiage and outside pressure; local opinion here preponderates;
neighbors support each other; they would shrink from denouncing a worthy
man whom they had known for twenty years; the moral sway of honest
folks suffices for keeping down "blackguards."[3364] If the mayor is
republican, it is only in words, perhaps for self-protection, to
protect his commune, and because one must howl along with the other
wolves.---Moreover, in other bourgs, and in the small towns, the
fanatics and rascals are not sufficiently numerous to fill all the
offices, and, in order to fill the vacancies, those who are not
good Jacobins have been pushed forward or admitted into the new
administrative corps, lukewarm, indifferent, timid or needy men, who
take the place as an asylum or ask for it as a means of subsistence.
"Citizens," one of the recruits, more or less under restraint, writes
later on,[3365] "I was put on the Committee of Surveillance of Aignay by
force, and installed by force." Three or four madmen on it ruled, and
if one held any discussion with them, "it was always threats.... Always
trembling, always afraid,--that is the way I passed eight months doing
duty in that miserable place."--Finally, in medium-sized or large
towns, the dead-lock produced by collective dismissals, the pell-mell
of improvised appointments, and the sudden renewal of an entire set of
officials, threw into the administration, willingly or not, a lot of
pretended Jacobins who, at heart, are Girondists or Feuillantists,
but who, having been excessively long-winded, are assigned offices on
account of their stump-speeches, and who thenceforth sit alongside
of the worst Jacobins, in the worst employment. "Members of the Feurs
Revolutionary Committee--those who make that objection to me," wrote a
lawyer in Clermont,[3366] "are persuaded that those only who secluded
themselves, felt the Terror. They are not aware, perhaps, that nobody
felt it more than those who were compelled to execute its decrees.
Remember that the handwriting of Couthon which designated some citizen
for an office also conveyed a threat, and in case of refusal, of being
declared 'suspect,' a threat which promised in perspective the loss
of liberty and the sequestration of property! Was I free, then, to
refuse?"--Once installed, the man must act, and many of those who do
act let their repugnance be seen in spite of themselves: at best, they
cannot be got to do more than mechanical service.
"Before going to court," says a judge at Cambray, "I swallowed a big
glass
of spirits to give me strength enough to preside."
He leaves his house with no other intention than to finish the job, and,
the sentence once pronounced, to return home, shut himself up, and close
his eyes and ears.
"I had to pronounce judgment according to the jury's declaration--what
could I do?"[3367]
Nothing, but remain blind and deaf: "I drank. I tried to ignore
everything, even the names of the accused."--It is plain enough that,
in the local official body, there are too many agents who are weak, not
zealous, without any push, unreliable, or even secretly hostile; these
must be replaced by others who are energetic and reliable, and the
latter must be taken wherever they can be found.[3368] This reservoir
in each department or district is the Jacobin nursery of the principal
town; from this, they are sent into the bourgs and communes of the
conscription. The central Jacobin nursery for France is in Paris, from
whence they are dispatched to the towns and departments.
V. Jacobins sent to the Provinces.
Importation of a staff of strangers.--Paris Jacobins sent
into the provinces.--Jacobins of enthusiastic towns deported
to moderate ones.--The Jacobins of a district headquarters
spread through the district.--Resistance of public opinion.
--Distribution and small number of really Jacobin agents.
Consequently, swarms of Jacobin locusts spread from Paris out over
the provinces, and from the local country-towns over the surrounding
country.--In this cloud of destructive insects, there are various
figures of different sizes: in the front rank, are the representatives
on mission, who are to take command in the departments; in the second
rank, "the political agents," who, assigned the duty of watching the
neighboring frontier, take upon themselves the additional duty of
leading the popular club of the town they reside in, or of urging on
its administrative body.[3369] Besides that, there issue from the Paris
headquarters in the rue St. Honoré, select sans-culottes who, authorized
or delegated by the Committee of Public Safety, proceed to Lyons,
Marseilles, Bordeaux, Tonnerre, Rochefort and elsewhere, to act as
missionaries among the too inert population, or form the committees
of action and the tribunals of extermination that are recruited with
difficulty on the spot.[3370]--Sometimes also, when a town has a bad
record, the popular club of a sounder-minded city sends its delegates
there, to bring it into line; thus, four deputies of the Metz club
arrive without notice in Belfort, catechize their brethren, associate
with them on the local Revolutionary Committee, and, suddenly, without
consulting the municipality, or any other legal authority, draw up
a list of "moderates, fanatics and egoists," on whom they impose an
extraordinary tax of one hundred and thirty-six thousand six hundred and
seventeen livres;[3371] in like manner, sixty delegates from the club
of Côte-d'Or, Haute-Marne, Vosges, Moselle, Saone-et-Loire and
Mont-Terrible, all "tempered by the white heat of Pére Duchesne,"
proceed to Strasbourg at the summons of the representatives, where,
under the title of "propagandists," they are to regenerate the town.--At
the same time, in each department, the Jacobins of the principal town
are found scattered along the high ways, that they may inspect their
domain and govern their subjects. Sometimes, it is the representative
on mission, who, personally, along with twenty "hairy devils," makes
his round and shows off his traveling dictatorship; again, it is his
secretary or delegate who, in his place and in his name, comes to a
second-class town and draws up his documents.[3372] At another time, it
is "a committee of investigation and propaganda" which, "chosen by
the club and provided with full powers," comes, in the name of the
representatives, to work up for a month all the communes of the
district.[3373] Again, finally, it is the revolutionary committee of
the principal town, which," declared central for the whole
department,"[3374] delegates one or the other of its members to
go outside the walls, and purge and recompose suspected
municipalities.--Thus does Jacobinism descend and spread itself, story
after story, from the Parisian center to the smallest and remotest
commune: throughout provincial France, whether colorless or of uncertain
color, the imposed or imported administration imposes its red stigma.
But the stamp is only superficial; for the sans-culottes, naturally, are
not disposed to confer offices on any but men of their sort, while in
the provinces, especially in the rural districts, such men are rare. As
one of the representatives says: there is a "dearth of subjects."--At
Mâcon, Javogues tries in vain;[3375] he finds in the club only
"disguised federalists;" the people, he says, "will not open their
eyes it seems to me that this blindness is due to the physique of the
country, which is very rich." Naturally, he storms and dismisses; but,
even in the revolutionary committee, none but dubious candidates are
presented to him for selection; he does not know how to manage in order
to renew the local authorities. "They play into each others' hands," and
he ends by threatening to transfer the public institutions of the
town elsewhere, if they persist in proposing to him none but bad
patriots.--At Strasbourg,[3376] Couturier, and Dentzel, on mission,
report that: "owing to an unexampled coalition among all the capable
citizens, obstinately refusing to take the office of mayor, in order,
by this course, to clog the wheels, and subject the representatives to
repeated and indecent refusals," he is compelled to appoint a young
man, not of legal age, and a stranger in the department.--At Marseilles,
write the agents,[3377] "in spite of every effort and our ardent desire
to republicanize the Marseilles people, our pains and fatigues are
nearly all fruitless.... Public spirit among owners of property,
mechanics and journey-men is everywhere detestable.... The number of
discontented seems to increase from day to day. All the communes in Var,
and most of those in this department are against us.... they constitute
a race to be destroyed, a country to be colonized anew....
"I repeat it, the only way to work out the Revolution in the federalized
departments, and especially in this one, is to deport all the indigenous
population who are able to bear arms, scatter them through the armies
and put garrisons in their places, which, again, will have to be changed
from time to time."--At the other extremity of the territory, in Alsace,
"republican sentiments are still in the cradle; fanaticism is extreme
and incredible; the spirit of the inhabitants in general is in no
respect revolutionary... Nothing but the revolutionary army and the
venerated guillotine will cure them of their conceited aristocracy. The
execution of the laws depends on striking off the heads of the guilty,
for nearly all the rural municipalities are composed only of the rich,
of clerks of former bailiffs, almost always devoted to the ancient
régime."[3378]--And in the rest of France, the population, less
refractory, is not more Jacobin; here where the people appear "humble
and submissive" as in Lyons and Bordeaux, the inspectors report that
it is wholly owing to terror;[3379] there, where opinion seems
enthusiastic, as at Rochefort and Grenoble, they report that it is
"artificial heat."[3380] At Rochefort, zeal is maintained only "by the
presence of five or six Parisian Jacobins." At Grenoble, Chépy, the
political agent and president of the club, writes that "he is knocked
up, worn out, and exhausted, in trying to keep up public spirit and
maintain it on a level with events," but he is "conscious that, if he
should leave, all would crumble."--There are none other than Moderates
at Brest, at Lille, at Dunkirk; if this or that department, the Nord,
for instance, hastened to accept the "Montagnard" constitution, it is
only a pretense: "an infinitely small portion of the population answered
for the rest."[3381]--At Belfort, where "from one thousand to twelve
hundred fathers of families alone are counted," writes the agent,[3382]
"one popular club of thirty or forty members, at the most, maintains and
enforces the love of liberty."--In Arras, "out of three or four hundred
members composing the popular club" the weeding-out of 1793 has spared
but "sixty-three, one tenth of whom are absent."[3383] At Toulouse, "out
of about fourteen hundred members" who form the club, only three or four
hundred remain after the weeding-out of 1793,[3384] "mere machines,
for the most part," and "whom ten or a dozen intriguers lead as they
please."--The same state of things exists elsewhere, a dozen or two
determined Jacobins-twenty-two at Troyes, twenty-one at Grenoble, ten
at Bordeaux, seven at Poitiers, as many at Dijon-constitute the active
staff of a large town:[3385] the whole number might sit around one
table.--The Jacobins, straining as they do to swell their numbers, only
scatter their band; careful as they are in making their selections, they
only limit their number. They remain what they always have been, a
small feudality of brigands superposed on conquered France.[3386] If
the terror they spread around multiplies their serfs, the horror they
inspire diminishes their proselytes, while their minority remains
insignificant because, for their collaborators, they can have only those
just like themselves.
VI. Quality of staff thus formed.
Quality of staff thus formed.--Social state of the agents.
--Their unfitness and bad conduct.--The administrators in
Seine-et-Marne.--Drunkenness and feasting.--Committees and
Municipalities in the Côte-d'Or.--Waste and extortions.
--Traffickers in favors at Bordeaux.--Seal breakers at Lyons.
--Monopolizers of national possessions.--Sales of personal
property.--Embezzlements and Frauds.-A procès-verbal in the
office of the mayor of Strasbourg.--Sales of real-estate.
--Commissioners on declarations at Toulouse.--The
administrative staff and clubs of buyers in Provence.--The
Revolutionary Committee of Nantes.
But when we regard the final and last set of officials of the
revolutionary government closely, in the provinces as well as at Paris,
we find among them we hardly anyone who is noteworthy except in vice,
dishonesty and misconduct, or, at the very least, in stupidity and
grossness.--First, as is indicated by their name, they all must be, and
nearly all are, sans-culottes, that is to say, men who live from day to
day on their daily earnings, possessing no income from capital, confined
to subordinate places, to petty trading, to manual services, lodged
or encamped on the lowest steps of the social ladder, and therefore
requiring pay to enable them to attend to public business;[3387] it is
on this account that decrees and orders allow them wages of three,
five, six, ten, and even eighteen francs a day.--At Grenoble, the
representatives form the municipal body and the revolutionary committee,
along with two health-officers, three glovers, two farmers, one
tobacco-merchant, one perfumer, one grocer, one belt-maker, one
innkeeper, one joiner, one shoemaker, one mason, while the official
order by which they are installed, appoints "Teyssière, licoriste,"
national agent.[3388]--At Troyes,[3389] among the men in authority we
find a confectioner, a weaver, a journeyman-weaver, a hatter, a hosier,
a grocer, a carpenter, a dancing-master, and a policeman, while the
mayor, Gachez, formerly a private soldier in the regiment of Vexin, was,
when appointed, a school-teacher in the vicinity.--At Toulouse,[3390]
a man named Terrain, a pâté dealer, is installed as president of the
administration; the revolutionary committee is presided over by Pio,
a journeyman-barber; the inspiration, "the soul of the club," is a
concierge, that of the prison.--The last and most significant trait is
found at Rochefort,[3391] where the president of the popular club is the
executioner.--If such persons form the select body of officials in the
large towns, what must they be in the small ones, in the bourgs and
in the villages?" Everywhere they are of the meanest"[3392] cartmen,
sabot--(wooden shoe) makers, thatchers, stone-cutters, dealers in
rabbit-skins, day laborers, unemployed craftsmen, many without any
pursuit, or mere vagabonds who had already participated in riots or
jacqueries, bar flies, having given up work and designated for a public
career only by their irregular habits and incompetence to follow
a private career.--Even in the large towns, it is evident that
discretionary power has fallen into the hands of nearly raw barbarians;
one has only to note in the old documents, at the Archives, the
orthography and style of the committees empowered to grant or refuse
civic cards, and draw up reports on the opinions and pursuits of
prisoners. "His opinions appear insipid (Ces opignons paroisse
insipide)[3393].... He is married with no children." (Il est marie cent
(sans) enfants).... Her profession is wife of Paillot-Montabert, she is
living on her income, his relations are with a woman we pay no
attention to; we presume her opinions are like her husband's."[3394] The
handwriting, unfortunately, cannot be represented here, being that of a
child five years old.[3395]
"As stupid as they are immoral,"[3396] says Representative Albert,
of the Jacobins he finds in office at Troyes. Low, indeed, as their
condition may be, their feeling and intelligence are yet lower because,
in their professions or occupations, they are the refuse instead of
the élite, and, especially on this account, they are turned out after
Thermidor, some, it is true, as Terrorists, but the larger number as
either dolts, scandalous or crazy, simply intruders, or mere valets.--At
Rheims, the president of the district is[3397] "a former bailiff, on
familiar terms with the spies of the Robespierre régime, acting in
concert with them, but without being their accomplice, possessing none
of the requisite qualities for administration." Another administrator
is likewise "a former bailiff, without means, negligent in the
highest degree and a confirmed drunkard." Alongside of these sit "a
horse-dealer, without any means, more fit for shady dealings than
governing, moreover a drunkard, a dyer, lacking judgment, open to all
sorts of influences, pushed ahead by the Jacobin faction, and having
used power in the most arbitrary manner, rather, perhaps, through
ignorance than through cruelty, a shoemaker, entirely uninstructed,
knowing only how to sign his name," and others of the same character. In
the Tribunal, a judge is noted as
"true in principle, but whom poverty and want of resources have driven
to every excess, a turncoat according to circumstances in order to get
a place, associated with the leaders in order to keep the place, and
yet not without sensibility, having, perhaps, acted criminally merely to
keep himself and his family alive."
In the municipal body, the majority is composed of an incompetent lot,
some of them being journeymen-spinners or thread twisters, and others
second-hand dealers or shopkeepers, "incapable," "without means," with a
few crack-brains among them: one, "his brain being crazed, absolutely
of no account, anarchist and Jacobin;" another, "very dangerous through
lack of judgment, a Jacobin, over-excited;" a third, "an instrument of
tyranny, a man of blood capable of every vice, having assumed the
name of Mutius Scoevola, of recognized depravity and unable to
write."--Similarly, in the Aube districts, we find some of the heads
feverish with the prevailing epidemic, for instance, at Nogent,
the national agent, Delaporte, "who has the words 'guillotine' and
'revolutionary tribunal' always on his lips, and who declares that if
he were the government he would imprison doctor, surgeon and lawyer,
who delights in finding people guilty and says that he is never content
except when he gets three pounds' weight of denunciations a day." But,
apart from these madcaps, most of the administrators or judges are
either people wholly unworthy of their offices, because they are
"inept," "too uneducated," "good for nothing," "too little familiar
with administrative forms," "too little accustomed to judicial action,"
"without information," "too busy with their own affairs," "unable to
read or write," or, because "they have no delicacy," are "violent,"
"agitators," "knaves," "without public esteem," and more or less
dishonest and despised.[3398]--As an example a fellow from Paris, who
was at first at Troyes, a baker's apprentice,[3399] and afterwards a
dancing-master; then he appeared at the Club, making headway, doubtless,
through his Parisian chatter, until he stood first and soon became a
member of the district. Appointed an officer in the sixth battalion of
Aube, he behaved in such a manner in Vendée that, on his return, "his
brethren in arms" broke up the banner presented to him, "declaring him
unworthy of such an honor, because he cowardly fled before the enemy."
Nevertheless, after a short plunge, he came back to the surface and,
thanks to his civil compeers, was reinstated in his administrative
functions; during the Terror, he was intimate with all the Terrorists,
being one of the important men of Troyes.--The mayor of the town,
Gachez, an old soldier and ex-schoolmaster, is of the same stuff as
this baker's apprentice. He, likewise, was a Vendéan hero; only, he was
unable to distinguish himself as much as he liked, for, after enlisting,
he failed to march; having pocketed the bounty of three hundred livres,
he discovered that he had infirmities and, getting himself invalidated,
he served the nation in a civil capacity. "His own partisans admit that
he is a drunkard and that he has committed forgery." Some months after
Thermidor he is sentenced to eight years imprisonment and put in the
pillory for this crime. Hence, "almost the entire commune is against
him; the women in the streets jeer him, and the eight sections meet
together to request his withdrawal." But Representative Bô reports that
he is every way entitled to remain, being a true Jacobin, an admirable
terrorist and "the only sans-culotte mayor which the commune of Troyes
has to be proud of."[33100]
It would be awarding too much honor to men of this stamp, to suppose
that they had convictions or principles; they were governed by
animosities and especially by their appetites,[33101] to satiate which
they[33102] made the most of their offices.--At Troyes, "all provisions
and foodstuffs are drawn upon to supply the table of the twenty-four"
sans-culottes[33103] to whom Bô entrusted the duty of weeding-out the
popular club; before the organization of "this regenerating nucleus"
the revolutionary committee, presided over by Rousselin, the civil
commissioner, carried on its "gluttony" in the Petit-Louvre
tavern, "passing nights bozing" and in the preparation of lists of
suspects.[33104] In the neighboring provinces of Dijon, Beaune, Semur
and Aignayle-Duc, the heads of the municipality and of the club always
meet in taverns and bars. At Dijon, we see "the ten or twelve Hercules
of patriotism traversing the town, each with a chalice under his
arm:"[33105] this is their drinking-cup; each has to bring his own
to the Montagnard inn; there, they imbibe copiously, frequently, and
between two glasses of wine "declare who are outlaws." At Aignay-le-Duc,
a small town with only half a dozen patriots "the majority of whom can
scarcely write, most of them poor, burdened with families, and living
without doing anything, never quit the bars, where, night and day,
they revel;" their chief, a financial ex-procureur, now "concierge,
archivist, secretary and president of the popular club," holds municipal
council in the tavern. "Should they go out it was to chase female
aristocrats," and one of them declares "that if the half of Aignay were
slaughtered the other half would be all the better for it."--There
is nothing like drinking to excite ferocity to the highest pitch. At
Strasbourg the sixty mustachioed propagandist lodged in the college in
which they are settled fixtures, have a cook provided for them by the
town, and they revel day and night "on the choice provisions put
in requisition," "on wines destined to the defenders of the
country."[33106] It is, undoubtedly, when coming out from one of these
orgies that they proceed, sword in hand, to the popular club,[33107]
vote and force others to vote "death to all prisoners confined in the
Seminary to the number of seven hundred, of every age and of both sexes,
without any preliminary trial." For a man to become a good cut-throat,
he must first get intoxicated;[33108] such was the course pursued
in Paris by those who did the work in September: the revolutionary
government being an organized, prolonged and permanent Septembrisade,
most of its agents are obliged to drink hard.[33109]--For the same
reasons when the opportunity, as well as the temptation, to steal,
presents itself, they steal.--At first, during six months, and up to the
decree assigning them pay, the revolutionary committees "take their pay
themselves;"[33110] they then add to their legal salary of three and
five francs a day about what they please: for it is they who assess the
extraordinary taxes, and often, as at Montbrison, "without making any
list or record of collections." On Frimaire 16, year II., the financial
committee reports that "the collection and application of extraordinary
taxes is unknown to the government; that it was impossible to supervise
them, the National treasury having received no sums whatever arising
from these taxes."[33111] Two years after, four years after, the
accounts of revolutionary taxation of forced loans, and of pretended
voluntary gifts, still form a bottomless pit; out of forty billions of
accounts rendered to the National Treasury only twenty are found to be
verified; the rest are irregular and worthless. Besides, in many cases,
not only is the voucher worthless or not forthcoming, but, again, it
is proved that the sums collected disappeared wholly or in part. At
Villefranche, out of one hundred and thirty-eight thousand francs
collected, the collector of the district deposited but forty-two
thousand; at Baugency, out of more than five hundred thousand francs
collected, there were only fifty thousand deposited; at la Réole, out
of at least five hundred thousand francs collected, there were but
twenty-two thousand six hundred and fifty deposited. "The rest,"
says the collector at Villefranche, "were wasted by the Committee
of Surveillance." "The tax-collectors," writes the national-agent at
Orleans, "after having employed terror gave themselves up to orgies and
are now building palaces."[33112]--As to the expenses which they claim,
they almost always consist of "indemnities to members of revolutionary
committees, to patriots, and to defray the cost of patriotic missions,"
to maintaining and repairing the meeting-rooms of the popular clubs, to
military expeditions, and to succoring the poor, so that three or four
hundred millions in gold or silver, extorted before the end of 1793,
hundreds of millions of assignats extorted in 1793 and 1794, in short,
almost the entire product of the total extraordinary taxation[33113]
was consumed on the spot and by the sans-culottes. Seated at the
public banqueting table they help themselves first, and help themselves
copiously.
A second windfall, equally gross. Enjoying the right to dispose
arbitrarily of fortunes, liberties and lives, they can traffic in these,
while no traffic can be more advantageous, both for buyers and sellers.
Any man who is rich or well-off, in other words, every man who is likely
to be taxed, imprisoned or guillotined, gladly consents "to compound,"
to redeem himself and those who belong to him. If he is prudent, he
pays, before the tax, so as not to be over-taxed; he pays, after the
tax, to obtain a diminution or delays; he pays to be admitted into the
popular club. When danger draws near he pays to obtain or renew his
certificate of civism, not to be declared "suspect," not to be
denounced as a conspirator. After being denounced, he pays to be allowed
imprisonment at home rather than in the jail, to be allowed imprisonment
in the jail rather than in the general prison, to be well treated if he
gets into this, to have time to get together his proofs in evidence,
to have his record (dossier) placed and kept at the bottom of the file
among the clerk's registers, to avoid being inscribed on the next batch
of cases in the revolutionary Tribunal. There is not one of these favors
that is not precious; consequently, ransoms without number are tendered,
while the rascals[33114] who swarm on the revolutionary committees, need
but open their hands to fill their pockets. They run very little risk,
for they are held in check only by their own kind, or are not checked at
all. In any large town, two of them suffice for the issue of a warrant
of arrest save a reference to the Committee within twenty-four hours,
with the certainty that their colleagues will kindly return the
favor.[33115] Moreover, the clever ones know how to protect themselves
beforehand. For example, at Bordeaux, where one of these clandestine
markets had been set up, M. Jean Davilliers, one of the partners in a
large commercial house, is under arrest in his own house, guarded by
four sans-culottes; on the 8th of Brumaire, he is taken aside and
told "that he is in danger if he does not come forward and meet
the indispensable requirements of the Revolution in its secret
expenditures." An important figure, Lemoal, member of the revolutionary
committee and administrator of the district, had spoken of these
requirements and thought that M. Davilliers should contribute the sum of
one hundred and fifty thousand livres. Upon this, a knock at the door
is heard; Lemoal enters and all present slip out of the room, and Lemoal
pronounces these words only: "Do you consent?"--"But I cannot thus
dispose of my partners' property."--"Then you will go to prison." At
this threat the poor man yields and gives his note to Lemoal at twenty
days, payable to bearer, for one hundred and fifty thousand livres, and,
at the end of a fortnight, by dint of pushing his claims, obtains his
freedom. Thereupon, Lemoal thinks the matter over, and deems it prudent
to cover up his private extortion by a public one. Accordingly, he sends
for M. Davilliers: "It is now essential for you to openly contribute
one hundred and fifty thousand livres more for the necessities of the
Republic. I will introduce you to the representatives to whom you should
make the offer." The chicken being officially plucked in this way,
nobody would suppose that it had been first privately plucked, and,
moreover, the inquisitive, if there were any, would be thrown off
the scent by the confusion arising from two sums of equal amount. M.
Davilliers begs to be allowed to consult his partners, and, as they are
not in prison, they refuse. Lemoal, on his side, is anxious to receive
the money for his note, while poor Davilliers, "struck with terror by
nocturnal arrests," and seeing that Lemoal is always on the top of the
ladder, concludes to pay; at first, he gives him thirty thousand livres,
and next, the charges, amounting in all to forty-one thousand livres,
when, being at the end of his resources, he begs and entreats to have
his note returned to him. Lemoal, on this, considering the chicken as
entirely stripped, becomes mollified, and tears off in presence of his
debtor "the signature in full of the note," and, along with this, his
own receipts for partial payments underneath. But he carefully preserves
the note itself, for, thus mutilated, it will show, if necessary, that
he had not received anything, and that, through patriotism, he had
undoubtedly wished to force a contribution from a merchant, but,
finding him insolvent, had humanely canceled the written
obligation.[33116]--Such are the precautions taken in this business.
Others, less shrewd, rob more openly, among others the mayor, the seven
members of the military commission surnamed "the seven mortal sins,"
and especially their president, Lacombe, who, by promising releases,
extracts from eight or nine captives three hundred and fifty-nine
thousand six hundred livres.[33117] "Through such schemes," writes
a rigid Jacobin,[33118] "many of those who had been declared outlaws
returned to Bordeaux by paying; of the number who thus redeemed their
lives, some did not deserve to lose it, but, nevertheless, they were
threatened with execution if they did not consent to everything. But
material proofs of this are hard to obtain. These men now keep silent,
for fear, through open denunciation, of sharing in the penalty of the
traffickers in justice, and being unwilling to expose (anew) the life
they have preserved." In short, the plucked pigeon is mute, so as not
to attract attention, as well as to avoid the knife; and all the more,
because those who pluck him hold on to the knife and might, should he
cry out, dispatch him with the more celerity. Even if he makes no noise,
they sometimes dispatch him so as to stifle in advance any possible
outcry, which happened to the Duc du Chatelet and others. There is but
one mode of self-preservation[33119] and that is, "to settle with such
masters by installments, to pay them monthly, like wet nurses, on a
scale proportionate to the activity of the guillotine."--In any event,
the pirates are not disturbed, for the trade in lives and liberties
leaves no trace behind it, and is carried on with impunity for two
years, from one end of France to the other, according to a tacit
understanding between sellers and buyers.
There is a third windfall, not less large, but carried on in more
open sunshine and therefore still more enticing.--Once the "suspect is
incarcerated, whatever he brings to prison along with him, whatever
he leaves behind him at home, becomes plunder; for, with the
incompleteness, haste and irregularity of papers,[33120] with the lack
of surveillance and known connivance, the vultures, great and small,
could freely use their beaks and talons.--At Toulouse, as in Paris and
elsewhere, commissioners take from prisoners every object of value and,
accordingly, in many cases, all gold, silver, assignats, and jewelry,
which, confiscated for the Treasury, stop half-way in the hands of those
who make the seizure.[33121] At Poitiers, the seven scoundrels who
form the ruling oligarchy, admit, after Thermidor, that they stole the
effects of arrested parties.[33122] At Orange, "Citoyenne Riot," wife of
the public prosecutor, and "citoyennes Fernex and Ragot," wives of two
judges, come in person to the record-office to make selections from the
spoils of the accused, taking for their wardrobe silver shoe-buckles,
laces and fine linen.[33123]--But all that the accused, the imprisoned
and fugitives can take with them, amounts to but little in comparison
with what they leave at home, that is to say, under sequestration. All
the religious or seignorial chateaux and mansions in France are in
this plight, along with their furniture, and likewise most of the fine
bourgeois mansions, together with a large number of minor residences,
well-furnished and supplied through provincial economy; besides these,
nearly every warehouse and store belonging to large manufacturers and
leading commercial houses; all this forms colossal spoil, such as was
never seen before, consisting of objects one likes to possess, gathered
in vast lots, which lots are distributed by hundreds of thousands over
the twenty-six thousand square miles of territory. There are no owners
for this property but the nation, an indeterminate, invisible personage;
no barrier other than so many seals exists between the spoils and the
despoilers, that is to say, so many strips of paper held fast by two
ill-applied and indistinct stamps. Bear in mind, too, that the guardians
of the spoil are the sans-culottes who have made a conquest of it; that
they are poor; that such a profusion of useful or precious objects makes
them feel the bareness of their homes all the more; that their wives
would like to lay in a stock of furniture; moreover, has it not held
out to them from the beginning of the Revolution, that "forty-thousand
mansions, palaces and chateaux, two-thirds of the property of France,
would be the reward of their valor?"[33124] At this very moment, does
not the representative on mission authorize their greed? Are not Albitte
and Collot d'Herbois at Lyons, Fouché at Nevers, Javogues at Montbrison,
proclaiming that the possessions of anti-revolutionaries and a surplus
of riches form "the patrimony of the sans-culottes?"[33125] Do they not
read in the proclamations of Monestier,[33126] that the peasants "before
leaving home may survey and measure off the immense estates of their
seigneurs, choose, for example, on their return, whatever they want
to add to their farm.. .. tacking on a bit of field or rabbit-warren
belonging to the former count or marquis?" Why not take a portion of
his furniture, any of his beds or clothes-presses--It is not surprising
that, after this, the slip of paper which protects sequestrated
furniture and confiscated merchandise should be ripped off by gross and
greedy hands! When, after Thermidor, the master returns to his own roof
it is generally to an empty house; in this or that habitation in the
Morvan,[33127] the removal of the furniture is so complete that a bin
turned upside down serves for a table and chairs, when the family sit
down to their first meal.
In the towns the embezzlements are often more brazenly carried out than
in the country. At Valenciennes, the Jacobin chiefs of the
municipality are known under the title of "seal-breakers and patriotic
robbers."[33128] At Lyons, the Maratists, who dub themselves "the
friends of Chalier," are, according to the Jacobins' own admission,
"brigands, thieves and rascals."[33129] They compose, to the number
of three or four hundred, the thirty-two revolutionary committees; one
hundred and fifty of leaders, "all of them administrators," form the
popular club; in this town of one hundred and twenty thousand souls they
number, as they themselves state, three thousand, and they firmly rely
on "sharing with each other the wealth of Lyons. This huge cake belongs
to them; they do not allow that strangers, Parisians, should have a
slice,[33130] and they intend to eat the whole of it, at discretion,
without control, even to the last crumb. As to their mode of operations,
it consists in "selling justice, in trading on denunciations, in holding
under sequestration at least four thousand households," in putting seals
everywhere on dwellings and warehouses, in not summoning interested
parties who might watch their proceedings, in expelling women, children
and servants who might testify to their robberies, in not drawing up
inventories, in installing themselves as "guardians at five francs a
day," themselves or their boon companions, and in "general squandering,
in league with the administrators." It is impossible to stay their
hands or repress them, even for the representatives. Take them in the
act,[33131] and you must shut your eyes or they will all shout at the
oppression of patriots; they do this systematically so that nobody may
be followed up.
We passed an order forbidding any authority to remove seals without our
consent, and, in spite of the prohibition, they broke into a storehouse
under sequestration,.... forced the locks and pillaged, under our own
eyes, the very house we occupy. And who are these devastators? Two
commissioners of the Committee who emptied the storehouse without our
warrant, and even without having any power from the Committee."--It is
a sack in due form, and day after day; it began on the 10th of October,
1793; it continued after, without interruption, and we have just seen
that, on Floréal 28, year II., that is to say, April 26, 1794, after one
hundred and twenty-three days, it is still maintained.
The last mad scramble and the most extensive of all.--In spite of the
subterfuges of its agents, the Republic, having stolen immensely, and
although robbed in its turn, could still hold on to a great deal; and
first, to articles of furniture which could not be easily abstracted,
to large lots of merchandise, also to the vast spoil of the palaces,
chateaux and churches; next, and above all, to real estate, fixtures and
buildings. To meet its expenses it put all that up for sale, and whoever
wants anything has only to come forward as a buyer, the last bidder
becoming the legal owner and at a cheap rate. The wood cut down in one
year very often pays for a whole forest.[33132] Sometimes a chateau can
be paid for by a sale of the iron-railings of the park, or the lead
on the roof.--Here are found chances for a good many bargains, and
especially with objects of art. "The titles alone of the articles
carried off, destroyed or injured, would fill volumes."[33133] On the
one hand, the commissioners on inventories and adjudications, "having
to turn a penny on the proceeds of sales," throw on the market all
they can, "avoiding reserving" objects of public utility and sending
collections and libraries to auction with a view to get their
percentages. On the other hand, nearly all these commissioners are
brokers or second-hand dealers who alone know the value of rarities,
and openly depreciate them in order to buy them in themselves, "and thus
ensure for themselves exorbitant profits." In certain cases the official
guardians and purchasers who are on the look-out take the precaution
to disfigure "precious articles" so as to have them bought by their
substitutes and accomplices: "for instance, they convert sets of books
into odd volumes, and take machines to pieces; the tube and object-glass
of a telescope are separated, which pieces the rogues who have bought
them cheap know how to put together again." Often, in spite of the
seals, they take in advance antiques, pieces of jewelry, medals,
enamels and engraved stones;" nothing is easier, for "even in Paris in
Thermidor, year II., agents of the municipality use anything with which
to make a stamp, buttons, and even large pennies, so that whoever has
a sou can remove and re-stamp the seals as he pleases;" having been
successful, "they screen their thefts by substituting cut pebbles
and counterfeit stones for real ones." Finally, at the auction sales,
"fearing the honesty or competition of intelligent judges, they offer
money (to these) to stay away from the sales; one case is cited where
they have knocked a prospective bidder down." In the meantime, at the
club, they shout with all their might; this, with the protection of a
member of the municipality or of the Revolutionary Committee, shelters
them from all suspicion. As for the protector, he gets his share without
coming out into the light. Accuse, if you dare, a republican functionary
who secretly, or even openly, profits by these larcenies; he will show
clean hands.--Such is the incorruptible patriot, the only one of his
species, whom the representatives discover at Strasbourg, and whom they
appoint mayor at once. On the 10th of Vendémiaire, year III.,[33134]
there is found "in his apartments" a superb and complete assortment of
ecclesiastical objects, "forty-nine copes and chasubles, silk or satin,
covered with gold or silver; fifty-four palles of the same description;"
a quantity of "reliquaries, vases and spoons, censers, laces, silver and
gold fringe, thirty-two pieces of silk," etc. None of these fine things
belong to him; they are the property of citizen Mouet, his father. This
prudent parent, taking his word for it, "deposited them for safe keeping
in his son's house during the month of June, 1792 (old style);"--could a
good son refuse his father such a slight favor? It is very certain that,
in '93 and '94, during the young man's municipal dictatorship, the
elder did not pay the Strasbourg Jew brokers too much, and that they did
business in an off-hand way. By what right could a son and magistrate
prevent his father, a free individual, from looking after "his own
affairs" and buying according to trade principles, as cheap as he could?
If such are the profits on the sale of personal property, what must they
be on the sale of real estate?--It is on this traffic that the fortunes
of the clever terrorists are founded. It accounts for the "colossal
wealth peaceably enjoyed," after Thermidor, of the well-known "thieves"
who, before Thermidor, were so many "little Robespierres," each in his
own canton, "the patriots" who, around Orleans, "built palaces," who,
"exclusives" at Valenciennes, "having wasted both public and private
funds, possess the houses and property of emigrants, knocked down to
them at a hundred times less than their value."[33135] On this side,
their outstretched fingers shamelessly clutch all they can get hold of;
for the obligation of each arrested party to declare his name, quality
and fortune, as it now is and was before the Revolution, gives local
cupidity a known, sure, direct and palpable object.--At Toulouse, says a
prisoner,[33136] "the details and value of an object were taken down as
if for a succession," while the commissioners who drew up the statement,
"our assassins, proceeded, beforehand and almost under our eyes, to take
their share, disputing with each other on the choice and suitableness
of each object, comparing the cost of adjudication with the means of
lessening it, discussing the certain profits of selling again and of the
transfer, and consuming in advance the pickings arising from sales and
leases."--In Provence, where things are more advanced and corruption
is greater than elsewhere, where the purport and aims of the Revolution
were comprehended at the start, it is still worse. Nowhere did Jacobin
rulers display their real character more openly, and nowhere, from
1789 to 1799, was this character so well maintained. At Toulon, the
demagogues in the year V., as in the year II., are[33137] "former
workmen and clerks in the Arsenal who had become 'bosses' by acting as
informers and through terrorism, getting property for nothing, or at an
insignificant price, and plotting sales of national possessions, petty
traders from all quarters with stocks of goods acquired in all sorts of
ways, through robberies, through purchases of stolen goods from servants
and employees in the civil, war and navy departments, and through
abandoned or bought-up claims; in a word, men who, having run away from
other communes, pass their days in coffee-houses and their nights in
houses of ill-fame."--At Draguignan, Brignolles, Vidauban, Fréjus,
at Marseilles, after Thermidor, the intermittent returns to Terrorism
always restore the same quarries of the justiciary and the police to
office.[33138] "Artisans, once useful, but now tired of working,
and whom the profession of paid clubbists, idle guardians," and paid
laborers "has totally demoralized," scoundrels in league with each
other and making money out of whatever they can lay their hands on,
like thieves at a fair, habitually living at the expense of the public,
"bestowing the favors of the nation on those who share their principles,
harboring and aiding many who are under the ban of the law and calling
themselves model patriots,[33139] that is, in the pay of gambling hells
and houses of prostitution."--In the rural districts, the old bands
"consisting of hordes of homeless brigands" who worked so well during
the anarchy of the Constituent and Legislative assemblies, form anew
during the anarchy of the Directory; they make their appearance in the
vicinity of Apt "commencing with petty robberies and then, strong in
the impunity and title of sans-culottes, break into farm-houses, rob and
massacre the inmates, strip travelers, put to ransom all who happen
to cross their path, force open and pillage houses in the commune of
Gorges, stop women in the streets, tear off their rings and crosses,"
and attack the hospital, sacking it from top to bottom, while the
town and military officers, just like them, allow them to go
on.[33140]--Judge by this of their performances in the time of
Robespierre, when the vendors and administrators of the national
possessions exercised undisputed control. Everywhere, at that time,
in the departments of Var, Bouches-du-Rhône, and Vaucluse, "a club of
would-be patriots" had long prepared the way for their exactions. It
had "paid appraisers for depreciating whatever was put up for sale,
and false names for concealing real purchasers; "a person not of their
clique, was excluded from the auction-room; if he persisted in coming in
they would, at one time, put him under contribution for the privilege
of bidding," and, at another time, make him promise not to bid above the
price fixed by the league, while, to acquire the domain, they paid him
a bonus. Consequently, "national property" was given away "for
almost nothing," the swindlers who acquired it never being without a
satisfactory warrant for this in their own eyes. Into whose hands could
the property of anti-revolutionists better fall than into those of
patriots? According to Marat, the martyr apostle and canonised saint of
the Revolution, what is the object of the Revolution but to give to
the lowly the fortunes of the great?[33141] In all national sales
everywhere, in guarding sequestrations, in all revolutionary ransoms,
taxes, loans and seizures, the same excellent argument prevails;
nowhere, in printed documents or in manuscripts, do I find any
revolutionary committee which is at once terrorist and honest. Only,
it is rare to find specific and individual details regarding all the
members of the same committee.--Here, however, is one case, where, owing
to the lucky accident of an examination given in detail, one can observe
in one nest, every variety of the species and of its appetites, the
dozen or fifteen types of the Jacobin hornet, each abstracting what
suits him from whatever he lights on, each indulging in his favorite
sort of rapine.--At Nantes, "Pinard, the great purveyor of the
Committee,[33142] orders everything that each member needs for his daily
use to be carried to his house."--"Gallou takes oil and brandy,"
and especially "several barrels from citizen Bissonneau's
house."--"Durassier makes domiciliary visits and exacts contributions;"
among others "he compels citizen Lemoine to pay twenty-five hundred
livres, to save him from imprisonment."--"Naud affixes and removes
seals in the houses of the incarcerated, makes nocturnal visits to
the dwellings of the accused and takes what suits him."--"Grandmaison
appropriates plate under sequestration, and Bachelier plate given as
a present."--"Joly superintends executions and takes all he can find,
plate, jewelry, precious objects."--"Bolognié forces the return of a
bond of twenty thousand livres already paid to him."--Perrochaux demands
of citoyenne Ollemard-Dudan "fifty thousand livres, to prevent her
imprisonment," and confiscates for his own benefit sixty thousand
livres worth of tobacco, in the house of the widow Daigneau-Mallet,
who, claiming it back, is led off by him to prison under the pretext of
interceding for her.--Chaux frightens off by terrorism his competitors
at auction sales, has all the small farms on the Baroissière domain
knocked down to him, and exclaims concerning a place which suits him: "I
know how to get it! I'll have the owner arrested. He'll be very glad
to let me have his ground to get out of prison.' "--The collection is
complete, and gathered on a table, it offers specimens which can be
found scattered all over France.
VII. The Armed Forces.
The Armed Force, the National Guard and the Gendarmerie.
--Its purgation and composition.--The Revolutionary Armies in
Paris and in the departments.--Quality of the recruits.
--Their employment.--Their expeditions into the countryside
and the towns.--Their exploits in the vicinity of Paris and
Lyons.--The company of Maratists, the American Hussars and
the German Legion at Nantes.--General character of the
Revolutionary government and of the administrative staff of
the Reign of Terror.
The last manipulators of the system remain, the hands which seize, the
armed force which takes bodily hold of men and things.--The first who
are employed for this purpose are the National Guard and the ordinary
gendarmerie. Since 1790, these bodies are of course constantly weeded
out until only fanatics and robots are left;[33143] nevertheless,
the weeding-out continues as the system develops itself. At
Strasbourg,[33144] on Brumaire 14, the representatives have dismissed,
arrested and sent to Dijon the entire staff of the National Guard
to serve as hostages until peace is secured; three days afterwards,
considering that the cavalry of the town had been mounted and equipped
at its own expense, they deem it aristocratic, bourgeois, and "suspect,"
and seize the horses and put the officers in arrest.--At Troyes,
Rousselin, "National civil commissioner," dismisses, for the same
reason, and with not less dispatch, all of the gendarmes at one stroke,
except four, and "puts under requisition their horses, fully
equipped, also their arms, so as to at once mount well known and tried
sans-culottes." On principle, the poor sans-culottes, who are true at
heart and in dress, alone have the right to bear arms, and should a
bourgeois be on duty he must have only a pike, care being taken to take
it away from him the moment he finishes his rounds.[33145]
But, alongside of the usual armed force, there is still another, much
better selected and more effective, the reserve gendarmerie, a special,
and, at the same time, movable and resident body, that is to say, the
"revolutionary army," which, after September 5, 1793, the government
had raised in Paris and in most of the large towns.--That of Paris,
comprising six thousand men, with twelve hundred cannoneers, sends
detachments into the provinces--two thousand men to Lyons, and two
hundred to Troyes;[33146] Ysabeau and Tallien have at Bordeaux a corps
of three thousand men; Salicetti, Albitte and Gasparin, one of two
thousand men at Marseilles; Ysoré and Duquesnoy, one of one thousand men
at Lille; Javogues, one of twelve hundred at Montbrison. Others,
less numerous, ranging from six hundred down to two hundred men,
hold Moulins, Grenoble, Besançon, Belfort, Bourg, Dijon, Strasbourg,
Toulouse, Auch and Nantes.[33147] When, on March 27, 1794, the Committee
of Public Safety, threatened by Hébert, has them disbanded for being
Hébertists, in any of them are to remain at least as a nucleus, under
various forms and names, either as kept by the local administration
under the title of "paid guards,"[33148] or as disbanded soldiers,
loitering about and doing nothing, getting themselves assigned posts of
rank in the National Guard of their town on account of their exploits;
in this way they keep themselves in service, which is indispensable,
for it is through these that the régime is established and lasts. "The
revolutionary army,[33149] say the orders and decrees promulgated, "is
intended to repress anti-revolutionaries, to execute, whenever it is
found necessary, revolutionary laws and measures for public safety,"
that is to say, "to guard those who are shut up, arrest 'suspects,'
demolish chateaux, pull down belfries, ransack vestries for gold and
silver objects, seize fine horses and carriages," and especially "to
seek for private stores and monopolies," in short, to exercise manual
constraint and strike every one on the spot with physical terror.--We
readily see what sort of soldiers the revolutionary army is composed of.
Naturally, as it is recruited by voluntary enlistment, and all
candidates have passed the purifying scrutiny of the clubs, it comprises
none but ultra-Jacobins. Naturally, the pay being forty sous a day, it
comprises none but the very lowest class. Naturally, as the work is as
loathsome as it is atrocious, it comprises but few others[33150] than
those out of employment and reduced to an enlistment to get a living,
"hairdressers without customers, lackeys without places, vagabonds,
wretches unable to earn a living by honest labor," "thick and hard
hitters" who have acquired the habit of bullying, knocking down and
keeping honest folks under their pikes, a gang of confirmed scoundrels
making public brigandage a cloak for private brigandage, inhabitants of
the slums glad to bring down their former superiors into the mud, and
themselves take precedence and strut about in order to prove by their
arrogance and self-display that they, in their turn, are princes.--"Take
a horse, the nation pays for it!"[33151] said the sans-culottes
of Bordeaux to their comrades in the street, who, "in a splendid
procession," of three carriages, each drawn by six horses, escorted by
a body on horseback, behind, in front, and each side, conducting Riouffe
and two other "suspects" to the Réole prison. The commander of the squad
who guards prisoners on the way to Paris, and who "starves them along
the road to speculate on them," is an ex-cook of Agen, having become
a gendarme; he makes them travel forty leagues extra, "purposely to
glorify himself," and "let all Agen see that he has government money to
spend, and that he can put citizens in irons." Accordingly, in Agen, "he
keeps constantly and needlessly inspecting the vehicle," winking at
the spectators, "more triumphant than if he had made a dozen Austrians
prisoners and brought them along himself." At last, to show the crowd in
the street the importance of his capture, he summons two blacksmiths
to come out and rivet, on the legs of each prisoner, a cross-bar
cannon-ball weighing eighty pounds.[33152] The more display these
henchmen make of their brutality, the greater they think themselves. At
Belfort, a patriot of the club dies, and a civic interment takes place;
a detachment of the revolutionary army joins the procession; the men are
armed with axes; on reaching the cemetery, the better to celebrate the
funeral, "they cut down all the crosses (over the graves) and make
a bonfire of them, while the carmagnole ends this ever memorable
day."[33153]--Sometimes the scene, theatrical and played by the light
of flambeaux, makes the actors think that they have performed an
extraordinary and meritorious action, "that they have saved the
country." "This very night," writes the agent at Bordeaux,[33154] nearly
three thousand men have been engaged in an important undertaking, with
the members of the Revolutionary Committee and of the municipality at
the head of it. They visited every wholesale dealer's store in town and
in the Faubourg des Chartrons, taking possession of their letter-books,
sealing up their desks, arresting the merchants and putting them in
the Seminiare.... Woe to the guilty!"--If the prompt confinement of an
entire class of individuals is a fine thing for a town, the seizure of
a whole town itself is still more imposing. Leaving Marseilles with
a small army,[33155] commanded by two sans-culottes, they surround
Martigne and enter it as if it were a mill. The catch is superb; in this
town of five thousand souls there are only seventeen patriots; the
rest are Federalists or Moderates. Hence a general disarmament
and domiciliary visits. The conquerors depart, carrying off every
able-bodied boy, "five hundred lads subject to the conscription, and
leave in the town a company of sans-culottes to enforce obedience."
It is certain that obedience will be maintained and that the garrison,
joined to the seventeen patriots, will do as they like with their
conquest.
In effect, all, both bodies and goods, are at their disposal, and they
consequently begin with the surrounding countryside, entering private
houses to get at their stores, also the farmhouses to have the grain
threshed, in order to verify the declarations of their owners and see if
these are correct: if the grain is not threshed out at once it will be
done summarily and confiscated, while the owner will be sentenced
to twelve months in irons; if the declaration is not correct, he is
condemned as a monopolist and punished with death. Armed with this
order,[33156] each band takes the field and gathers together not only
grain, but supplies of every description. "That of Grenoble, the agent
writes,[33157] does wonderfully; in one little commune alone, four
hundred measures of wheat, twelve hundred eggs, and six hundred pounds
of butter had been found. All this was quickly on the way to Grenoble."
In the vicinity of Paris, the forerunners of the throng, provided "with
pitchforks and bayonets, rush to the farms, take oxen out of their
stalls, grab sheep and chickens, burn the barns, and sell their booty
to speculators."[33158] "Bacon, eggs, butter and chickens--the peasants
surrender whatever is demanded of them, and thenceforth have nothing
that they can take to market. They curse the Republic which has brought
war and famine on them, and nevertheless they do what they are told:
on being addressed, 'Citizen peasant, I require of you on peril of your
head,'... it is not possible to refuse."[33159]--Accordingly, they are
only too glad to be let off so cheaply. On Brumaire 19, about seven
o'clock in the evening, at Tigery, near Corbeil, twenty-five men "with
sabers and pistols in their belts, most of them in the uniform of the
National Guards and calling themselves the revolutionary army," enter
the house of Gibbon, an old ploughman, seventy-one years of age, while
fifty others guard all egress from it, so that the expedition may not
be interfered with. Turlot, captain, and aid-de-camp to General Henriot,
wants to know where the master of the house is.--"In his bed," is the
reply.--"Wake him up."--The old man rises.--Give up your arms."--His
wife hands over a fowling-piece, the only arm on the premises. The band
immediately falls on the poor man, "strikes him down, ties his hands,
and puts a sack over his head," and the same thing is done to his wife
and to eight male and two female servants. "Now, give us the keys of
your closets;" they want to be sure that there are no fleur-de-lys or
other illegal articles. They search the old man's pockets, take his
keys, and, to dispatch business, break into the chests and seize or
carry off all the plate, "twenty-six table-dishes, three soup-ladles,
three goblets, two snuff-boxes, forty counters, two watches, another
gold watch and a gold cross." "We will draw up a procès-verbal of all
this at our leisure in Meaux. Now, where's your silver? If you don't say
where it is, the guillotine is outside and I will be your executioner."
The old man yields and merely requests to be untied. But it is better
to keep him bound, "so as to make him 'sing.'" They carry him into the
kitchen and "put his feet into a heated brazier." He shouts with pain,
and indicates another chest which they break open and then carry off
what they find there, "seventy-two francs in coin and five or six
thousand livres in assignats, which Gibbon had just received for the
requisitions made on him for corn." Next, they break open the cellar
doors, set a cask of vinegar running, carry wine upstairs, eat the
family meal, get drunk and, at last, clear out, leaving Gibbon with his
feet burnt, and garroted, as well as the other eleven members of his
household, quite certain that there will be no pursuit.[33160]--In the
towns, especially in federalist districts, however, these robberies are
complicated with other assaults. At Lyons, whilst the regular troops
are lodged in barracks, the revolutionary army is billeted on the
householders, two thousand vile, sanguinary blackguards from Paris, and
whom their general, Ronsin himself, calls "scoundrels and brigands,"
alleging, in excuse for this, that "honest folks cannot be found for
such business." How they treat their host, his wife and his daughters
may be imagined; contemporaries glide over these occurrences and,
through decency or disgust, avoid giving details.[33161] Some simply use
brutal force; others get rid of a troublesome husband by the guillotine;
in the most exceptional cases they bring their wenches along with them,
while the housekeeper has to arouse herself at one o'clock at night and
light a fire for the officer who comes in with the jolly company.--And
yet, there are others still worse, for the worst attract each other. We
have seen the revolutionary committee at Nantes, also the representative
on mission in the same city; nowhere did the revolutionary Sabbat rage
so furiously, and nowhere was there such a traffic in human lives. With
such band-leaders as Carrier and his tools on the Committee, one may be
sure that the instrumentalists will be worthy.