CHAPTER XIV.

Corcyrean sedition—Civil wars of Rome—Jacquerie—Factions of the Circus

at Constantinople—Massacre of Sept. 2, 1792.

The year which witnessed the unhappy fate of the brave Platæans was

made remarkable by the Corcyrean sedition also: on which, as on the

plague of Athens, the pen of Thucydides has conferred a lasting

celebrity.

Corcyra, an island situated on the western coast of Greece, by sedulous

attention to commerce, had risen, a little before the Peloponnesian

war, to the possession of a navy capable of rivalling in strength

that of any Grecian state, except Athens. It was a colony of Corinth;

but, in consequence of some disputes which arose out of the affairs

of Epidamnus, a Corcyrean colony, war broke out between Corcyra and

the mother country, the Corcyreans concluded a defensive alliance with

the Athenians, and the democratical interest was of course established

in power. A naval battle ensued, in which the Corinthians had the

advantage, and took upwards of a thousand prisoners. It rarely happened

in any of the smaller Grecian states, that either the democratic or the

oligarchical party obtained an uncontested and permanent ascendancy;

and the Corinthians were not inclined to resign without a struggle that

respect and influence which the manners and religion of Greece taught

to be due from the colony to the mother country. Of the prisoners above

mentioned, eight hundred, who were slaves, were sold by the victors;

the rest, to the number of two hundred and fifty, were citizens, most

of them men of consequence in Corcyra, who probably looked with no

friendly eye on the Athenian alliance, and at all events were ready to

break it off, and revert to the connexion of Corinth, as the price

of their liberty. They were accordingly suffered to return home. The

tumults to which their subsequent attempts to restore the oligarchy

gave rise are celebrated in history under the name of the Corcyrean

sedition. A more heinous scene of treachery and murder has seldom

been exhibited even in civil warfare; or a more deplorable state of

morals described than that which is said by Thucydides in the following

passage to have prevailed, not only in Corcyra, but throughout Greece.

“The sedition in Corcyra began upon the coming home of those captives

which were taken in the battles by sea at Epidamnus, and released

afterwards by the Corinthians at the ransom, as was voiced, of eight

hundred talents, for which they had given security to their hosts,[36]

but in fact, because they had persuaded the Corinthians that they would

put Corcyra into their power. These persons going round from man to

man, solicited the city to revolt from the Athenians; and two galleys

being now come in, one of Athens, another of Corinth, with ambassadors

from both those states, the Corcyreans, upon audience of them both,

decreed to hold the Athenians for their confederates, on articles

agreed on: but withal to remain friends to the Peloponnesians, as

they had formerly been. There was one Pithias, voluntary host of the

Athenians, and that had been principal magistrate of the people. Him

these men called into judgment, and laid to his charge a practice to

bring the city into the servitude of the Athenians. He again, being

acquit, called in question five of the wealthiest of the same men,

saying they had cut certain stakes[37] in the ground belonging to the

temples both of Jupiter and of Alcinous, upon every one of which there

lay a penalty of a stater.[38] And being sentenced to pay the fine,

they took sanctuary in the temples, to the end, the sum being great,

they might pay it by portions, as they should be taxed. But Pithias

(for he was also of the senate) obtained that the law should proceed.

These five being by the law shut out of hope, and understanding that

Pithias, as long as he was a senator, would cause the people to hold

for friends and foes the same that were so to the Athenians, conspired

with the rest, and armed with daggers, suddenly brake into the senate

house, and slew both Pithias and others, as well private men as

senators, to the number of about sixty persons; only a few of those of

Pithias his faction escaped into the Athenian galley that lay yet in

the harbour.

“When they had done this, and called the Corcyreans to an assembly,

they told them, that what they had done was for the best, and that they

should not be now in bondage to the Athenians. And for the future they

advised them to be in quiet, and to receive neither party with more

than one galley at once; and to take them for enemies if they were

more: and when they had spoken forced them to decree it accordingly.

They also presently sent ambassadors to Athens, both to show that

it was fit for them to do what they had done, and also to dissuade

such Corcyreans as were fled thither of the other faction, from doing

anything to their prejudice, lest there should be a counter–revolution.

“When these arrived, the Athenians apprehended both the ambassadors

themselves, as seditious persons, and also all those Corcyreans whom

they had there prevailed with, and sent them to custody in Ægina.

In the mean time, upon the coming in of a galley of Corinth with

ambassadors from Lacedæmon, that party that had the rule assailed

the commons, and overcame them in fight; and night coming on, the

commons fled into the citadel, and the higher parts of the city, where

they rallied themselves and encamped, and made themselves masters

of the haven called the Hillaic haven. But the others seized on the

market–place (where also the most of them dwelt) and on the haven on

the side toward the continent.

“The next day they skirmished a little with shot,[39] and both parts

sent abroad into the villages to solicit the slaves, with promise of

liberty, to take their parts; and the greatest part of the slaves took

part with the commons, and the other side had an aid of 800 men from

the continent.

“The next day but one they fought again, and the people had the

victory, having the odds both in strength of places, and in number of

men. And the women also manfully assisted them, throwing tiles from the

houses, and enduring the tumult, even beyond the condition of their

sex. The few began to fly about twilight, and fearing lest the people

should attack, and at the first onset gain possession of the arsenal,

and put them to the sword, to stop their passage, set fire to the

houses in the market–place, and those adjoining them, sparing neither

their own property nor others. Much goods of merchants were hereby

burnt, and the whole city, if the wind had risen and carried the flame

that way, had been in danger to have been destroyed. Then ceasing from

battle, forasmuch as both parties were at rest, they set watch for the

night. And the Corinthian galley stole away, because the people had

gotten the victory, and most of the auxiliaries got over privily to the

continent.

“The next day Nicostratus the son of Diotrephes, an Athenian commander,

came in with twelve galleys and five hundred Messenian men of arms

from Naupactus, and both negotiated a reconciliation, and induced them

(to the end they might agree) to condemn ten of the principal authors

of the sedition (who presently fled) and to let the rest alone, with

articles both between themselves and with the Athenians, to esteem

friends and enemies the same as the Athenians did. When he had done

this, he would have been gone, but the people persuaded him before he

went to leave behind him five of his galleys, the better to keep their

adversaries from stirring, and to take as many of theirs, which they

would man with Corcyreans, and send with him. To this he agreed, and

they made a list of those that should embark, consisting altogether of

their enemies. But these fearing to be sent to Athens, took sanctuary

in the temple of Castor and Pollux: but Nicostratus endeavoured to

raise them, and spake to them, to put them into courage: but when he

could not prevail, the people (arming themselves on pretence that

their diffidence to go along with Nicostratus proceeded from some evil

intention) took away their arms out of their houses, and would also

have killed some of them, such as they chanced on, if Nicostratus had

not hindered them. Others also, when they saw this, took sanctuary in

the temple of Juno, and they were in all above four hundred. But the

people, fearing some innovation, got them by persuasion to rise, and

conveying them into the island that lieth over against the temple of

Juno, sent them their necessaries thither.

“The sedition standing in these terms, the fourth or fifth day

after the putting over of these men into the island, arrived the

Peloponnesian fleet from Cyllene, where, since their voyage of Ionia,

they had lain at anchor, to the number of three and fifty sail.

Alcidas had the command of these, as before, and Brasidas came with

him as a counsellor. And having first put in at Sybota, a haven of the

continent, they came on the next morning by break of day toward Corcyra.

“The Corcyreans being in a great tumult and fear, both of the seditious

within, and of the invasion without, made ready threescore galleys,

and still as any of them were manned, sent them out against the enemy;

whereas the Athenians had advised them to give leave to them to go

forth first, and then the Corcyreans to follow after with the whole

fleet together. But when their scattered ships neared the enemy, two

of them immediately deserted, and in others they that were aboard

went together by the oars, and nothing was done in due order. The

Peloponnesians, seeing their confusion, opposed themselves to the

Corcyreans with twenty galleys only, the rest they set in array against

the twelve galleys of Athens.

“The Corcyreans having come disorderly up, and by few at once, were

of their own fault in much distress; but the Athenians, fearing

an overmatch of numbers, and that they should be surrounded, did

not charge upon the close array, nor on the centre of the enemy;

but attacked the wing, and sunk one of their galleys: and when

the Peloponnesians afterwards had put their fleet into a circular

figure, they then went about and about it, endeavouring to put them

into disorder; which they that were fighting against the Corcyreans

perceiving, and fearing such another chance as befel them formerly at

Naupactus, went to their aid, and uniting themselves, came upon the

Athenians all together. But they, backing their oars, retreated with

their prows to the enemy, that the Corcyreans should take that time to

escape in; they themselves in the mean time going as leisurely back as

was possible, and keeping the enemy still opposed to them. Such was

this battle, and it ended about sunset.

“The Corcyreans fearing lest the enemy, in pursuit of their victory,

should have come directly against the city, or take aboard the men

which they had put over into the island, or do them some other

mischief, fetched back the men into the temple of Juno again, and

guarded the city. But the Peloponnesians, though they had won the

battle, yet durst not invade the city, but having taken thirteen of

the Corcyrean galleys, went back into the continent from whence they

had set forth. The next day they came not unto the city, no more than

before, although it was in great tumult and affright: and though also

Brasidas (as it is reported) advised Alcidas to it, but had not equal

authority: but only landed soldiers at the promontory of Leucimna, and

wasted their territory.

“In the mean time the people of Corcyra, fearing extremely lest

those galleys should come against the city, not only conferred with

those in sanctuary, and with the rest, about how the city might be

preserved, but also induced some of them to serve on shipboard. For

notwithstanding the confusion they had still manned thirty galleys, in

expectation that the fleet of the enemy should have entered. But the

Peloponnesians having been wasting of their fields till it was about

noon, went their ways again. And during the night the Corcyreans had

notice by beacon–fires of threescore Athenian galleys coming toward

them from Leucas, which the Athenians, upon intelligence of the

sedition, and of the fleet to go to Corcyra under Alcidas, had sent to

aid them, under the conduct of Eurymedon the son of Thucles.

“The Peloponnesians, therefore, as soon as night came, sailed speedily

home, keeping still the shore, and causing their galleys to be carried

over at the Isthmus of Leucas, that they might not come in sight as

they doubled it. But the people of Corcyra, hearing of the Attic

galleys coming in, and the going off of the Peloponnesians, brought

into the city the Messenians,[40] who till this time had been kept

outside the walls, and appointing the galleys which they had equipped

to come about into the Hillaic haven; they in the mean time slew all

the contrary faction they could lay hands on, and also afterwards threw

overboard out of the same galleys all those (i. e., of the oligarchical

party) they had before persuaded to embark, and so went thence. And

coming to the temple of Juno, they persuaded fifty of those that had

taken sanctuary, to refer themselves to a legal trial; all which they

condemned to die. But most of those who had taken sanctuary, that is,

all those that were not induced to stand to trial by law, when they saw

what was done, killed one another there, right in the temple: some

hanged themselves on trees; every one, as he had means, made himself

away. And for seven days together that Eurymedon staid there with his

threescore galleys, the Corcyreans did nothing but kill such of their

city as they took to be their enemies, laying to their charge indeed

that they had conspired against the commons, but some among them were

slain upon private hatred, and some by their debtors, for the money

which they had lent them. All forms of death were then seen, and (as in

such cases it usually falls out) whatsoever had happened at any time,

happened also then, and more. For the father slew his son, men were

dragged out of the temples, and then slain hard by; and some walled

up within the temple of Bacchus[41] died there. So cruel was this

sedition; and it seemed so the more, because it was among these men the

first.

“For afterwards all Greece, as a man may say, was in commotion; and

quarrels arose every where between the patrons of the commons, that

sought to bring in the Athenians, and the Few[42] that desired to

bring in the Lacedæmonians. Now in time of peace they could have no

pretence, nor would have been so forward to call them in; but being

war, and confederates to be had for either party, both to hurt their

enemies, and strengthen themselves, such as desired alteration easily

got foreign help to their end. And many heinous things happened in

the cities through this sedition, which though they have been before,

and shall be ever, as long as human nature is the same, yet they are

more violent, or more tranquil, and of different kinds, according to

the several[43] conjunctures at which they occur. For in peace and

prosperity both cities and private men are better minded, because

they fall not into such emergencies as constrain men to do things,

whether they will or no; but war taking away the affluence of daily

necessaries, is a most violent master, and conformeth most men’s

passions to the present occasion. So sedition prevailed in the cities,

and those that fell into it later, having heard what had been done in

the former, far exceeded them in newness of conceit, both for the art

of assailing, and for the strangeness of their revenges. The received

value of names imposed for signification of things, was changed

into arbitrary: for inconsiderate boldness was counted true–hearted

manliness; provident deliberation, a handsome fear; modesty, the cloak

of cowardice; to be wise in every thing, to be lazy in every thing.

A furious suddenness was reputed a point of valour. To re–advise for

the better security, was held for a fair pretext of tergiversation.

He that was fierce, was always trusty; and he that contraried such

a one, was suspected. He that did insidiate, if he took, was a wise

man; but he that could find out the trap, a cleverer man than he:

but he that had been so provident as not to need to do one or the

other, was said to be a dissolver of fellowship, and one that stood

in fear of his adversary. In brief, he that could outstrip another

in the doing of an evil act, or that could persuade another thereto,

that never meant it, was commended. To be kin to another, was not

to be so near as to be of his fellowship, because these were ready

to undertake any thing, without standing upon pretexts. For these

fellowships[44] looked not to benefits consistent with the existing

laws, but to self–aggrandizement, contrary to them. And as for mutual

trust amongst them, it was confirmed not so much by divine law,[45] as

by the communication of guilt. And what was handsomely spoken by their

adversaries, they received with an eye to their actions, to see whether

they were too strong for them or not, and not ingenuously. To be

revenged was in more request, than never to have received injury. And

oaths of reconcilement (if any were) given by one to another, because

in the present conjuncture they could do nought else, were binding, as

long as the parties had no power otherwise; but upon opportunity, he

that first durst, if he saw an unguarded place, thought his revenge

sweeter by the trust than if he had taken the open way. And this course

was valued both for its security, and because he that circumvented his

adversary by fraud assumed to himself withal a mastery in point of

wit. And dishonest men for the most part are sooner called able, than

simple men honest. And men are ashamed of this title, but take a pride

in the other. The cause of this is desire of rule, out of avarice and

ambition, and the zeal of contention[46] from those two proceeding.

For such as were of authority in the cities, both of the one and the

other faction, the one under the decent pretext of political equality

of the many, the other of moderate aristocracy, though in words they

seemed to be servants of the public, they made it in effect but

the prize of their contention. And striving by whatsoever means to

overcome, both ventured on most horrible outrages, and revenged them

even beyond the provocations, without any regard of justice, or the

public good, but limiting them, each faction, by their own appetite:

and stood ready, whether by unjust sentence, or with their own hands,

when they should get the uppermost, to satisfy their spite. So that

neither side thought to do any thing by honest means; but they were

best spoken of, that could pass a business though against the grain,

with fair words. The neutrals of the city were destroyed by both

factions; partly because they would not side with them, and partly for

envy that they should so escape.

“Thus was wickedness on foot in every kind, throughout all Greece,

by the occasion of the party conflicts. Sincerity (whereof there is

much in a generous nature) was laughed down, and vanished. And it

was far the best course to stand distrustfully against each other,

for neither were words powerful, nor oaths terrible enough to assure

reconciliation. And being all of them, the more they considered, the

more desperate of security, they rather contrived how to avoid a

mischief, than were able to rely on any man’s faith. And for the most

part such as had the least wit had the best success; for both their own

defect, and the subtilty of their adversaries, putting them in a great

fear to be overcome in words, or at least in pre–insidiation, by their

enemies’ great craft, they therefore went roundly to work with them,

with deeds. Whereas the other, thinking in their arrogance that they

should be aware in time, and that they needed not to take by force what

they might do by plot, were thereby unprovided, and so the more easily

slain.

“In Corcyra then were most of these evils committed first: and besides

these, all that men might perpetrate in retaliation, who had been

tyrannically governed by that very party which they now saw in their

power; or that men just freed from their accustomed poverty, and

greedily coveting their neighbour’s goods, would against justice agree

to; or which men, assailing each other, not upon desire of gain, but

as equal against equal, in the intemperance of anger would cruelly and

inexorably execute. And the common course of life being at that time

confounded in the city, the nature of man, which is wont even against

law to do evil, gotten now above the law, was very ready to display

itself as intemperately passionate, too strong for justice, and an

enemy to all superiority. For they would never else have preferred

revenge to sanctity, and gain to that condition of justice, in which

envy would have lost its power to do harm. And for the laws common to

all men in such cases (which, as long as they be in force, give hope to

all that suffer injury), men desire not to leave them standing, against

the need a man in danger may have of them, but by their revenges on

others, to be beforehand in subverting them.[47]

“Such were the passions of the Corcyreans first of all other Grecians,

towards one another in the city. And Eurymedon and the Athenians

departed with their galleys. Afterwards such of the Corcyreans as had

fled (for there escaped about five hundred of them) having seized

on the forts in the continent, established themselves in their own

territory on the mainland opposite the island, and from thence came

over and robbed the islanders, and did them much hurt; and there

grew a great famine in the city. They likewise sent ambassadors to

Lacedæmon and Corinth, to negotiate concerning their return; and when

they could get nothing done, having gotten boats, and some auxiliary

soldiers, they passed a while after to the number of about six hundred

into the island. Where when they had set their boats on fire, that

they might have no hope but in the making themselves masters of the

country, they went up into the hill Istone, and having there fortified

themselves with a wall, infested those within, and were masters of the

territory.[48]

“In the seventh year of the war[49] Eurymedon and Sophocles, after

their departure from Pylus with the Athenian fleet towards Sicily,

arriving at Corcyra, joined with those of the city, and made war upon

those Corcyreans which lay encamped upon the hill Istone, and which,

after the sedition, had come over, and made themselves masters of the

country, and done much harm: and having assaulted their fortification,

took it. But the men all in one troop escaped to a certain high ground,

and thence made their composition, which was this; ‘that they should

deliver up the foreigners that aided them; and that they themselves,

having rendered their arms, should stand to the judgment of the people

of Athens.’ Hereupon the generals granted them truce, and transported

them to the island of Ptychia, to be there in custody till the

Athenians should send for them; with this condition, ‘that if any one

of them should be taken running away, then the truce to be broken for

them all.’ But the leaders of the commons of Corcyra, fearing lest the

Athenians would not kill those who were sent to them, devise against

them this plot. To some few of those in the island they secretly send

their friends, and instruct them to say, as if forsooth, it were for

good will, that it was their best course with all speed to get away

(and withal to offer to provide them of a boat), for that the Athenian

commanders intended verily to deliver them to the Corcyrean people.

“When they were persuaded to do so, and that a boat was treacherously

prepared, as they rowed away they were taken, and the truce being

now broken, were all given up into the hands of the Corcyreans. It

did much further this plot, by giving to the pretence held out an

appearance of reality, and making the agents in it less fearful, that

the Athenian generals evidently did not wish the men to be carried

home by others, whilst they themselves were to go into Sicily, and

the honour of it be ascribed to those that should convoy them. The

Corcyreans having received them into their hands, imprisoned them in a

large edifice, from whence afterwards they took them out by twenty at a

time, and made them pass through a lane of men of arms, bound together,

and receiving strokes and thrusts from those on either side, according

as any one espied his enemy. And to hasten the pace of those that went

slowliest on, others were set to follow them with whips.

“They had taken out of the room in this manner, and slain, to the

number of threescore, before they that remained knew it, who thought

they were but removed, and carried to some other place. But when they

knew the truth, some or other having told them, they then cried out

to the Athenians, and bid them, if they wished their death, kill them

themselves; and refused any more to go out of the building, nor would

suffer, they said, as long as they were able, any man to come in. But

neither had the Corcyreans any purpose to force entrance by the door,

but getting up to the top of the house, uncovered the roof, and threw

tiles, and shot arrows at them. They in prison defended themselves as

well as they could; but many also slew themselves with the arrows shot

by the enemy, by thrusting them into their throats, and strangling

themselves with the cords of certain beds that were in the room, and

with halters made of their own garments rent in pieces. And having

continued most part of the night (for night overtook them in the

action), partly strangling themselves by all such means as they found,

and partly shot at from above, they all perished. When day came, the

Corcyreans laid them one across another[50] in carts, and carried them

out of the city. And of their wives, as many as were taken in the

fortification, they made bond–women. In this manner were the Corcyreans

that kept the hill,[51] brought to destruction by the commons. And thus

ended this far–spread sedition, for so much as concerned this present

war: for other seditions there remained nothing worth the relation.”[52]

It would be difficult to find a more thoroughly hateful state of

society than that which appears from this passage, and from the

description of the plague of Athens, to have existed in Greece at

this period. The picture, it is to be remembered, comes to us on the

authority of one whose impartiality and deep powers of observation

are alike unquestioned, no splenetic, no visionary, but one who had

mixed largely and in high station among the stirring times of which he

writes. The most astonishing circumstance connected with the depravity

here exhibited, is the short period in which it appears to have shot

up into such rank growth. We possess, it is true, little knowledge of

any thing but the public acts of Greece anterior to the Peloponnesian

war, at which time the contemporary historian, and still more the

contemporary comedian Aristophanes, supply us with abundant notices of

private life, which are continued and enlarged by the philosophers and

orators. Still, as far as we have the means of judging, there seems no

reason to ascribe to the Greeks, until about the Peloponnesian war,

a smaller share of morality and religion than has usually been found

among heathen nations. Whence then in so short a time this utter loss

of moral sense and disruption of the bonds of society? The question is

not an easy one to answer, but the substance of the best answer that we

can give is comprised in the introductory chapter to this volume.

To supply a series of parallels to this domestic contest is scarcely

possible. Among insurrections and civil wars, events of equal atrocity

and more astounding magnitude might be found, but scarcely events

of the same character. We naturally turn first to the other great

nation of antiquity. Here we are warned against the most obvious

comparison by a late eminent scholar. After speaking of the dangers

incident to the struggle between the aristocracy and the people in

that often–occurring form of a nation’s early existence, when it is

divided into a privileged race or caste, whose power is founded on

conquest, and a commonalty personally free, but politically dependant,

as were the Saxons, while the distinction between Saxon and Norman

blood continued in England; after speaking of the dangers which beset

that contest which is sure to take place when the spread of wealth and

knowledge has equalized the personal qualities of the rulers and the

ruled, he continues: “If the nation escapes these, either originally

or finally, it enters upon its state of manhood, and is exposed to a

somewhat different succession of struggles. The contest is then between

property and numbers, and wherever it has come to a crisis, I know not

that it has in any instance terminated favourably. Such was the state

of Greece in the time of Thucydides; of Rome from the passing of the

Publilian laws to the end of the commonwealth: and such has been the

state of England since the Revolution of 1688. Comparisons drawn from

the preceding period are inapplicable to this; while on the other hand,

as the phenomena of this second period arise out of causes connected

with the earlier state of things, they cannot be clearly understood

unless that former state be fully known to us. Thus, to argue that

the Romans were less bloody than the Greeks from a comparison between

the factions of the Peloponnesian war, and the struggles of the Roman

commons against the patricians, is to compare the two nations under

very different circumstances; it is instituting a comparison between

the intensity of our passions in manhood and in childhood. The bloody

factions of Corcyra and Megara are analogous to the civil wars of

Marius and Sylla, of Cæsar and Pompey, of Brutus and Cassius against

the Triumvirs: the harmless contests between the commons and patricians

can only be compared to those which prevailed in Greece before the

Persian invasion, when the party of the coast at Athens was disputing

the exclusive ascendency so long enjoyed by the eupatridæ or party of

the plain.[53] And the true conclusion is, that the second contest

between property and numbers is far more inevitably accompanied by

atrocious crimes, than that earlier quarrel, in which property and

numbers were united against property and birth.”[54]

The Corcyrean sedition differed from the secession to the Mons

Sacer, and other disputes between patricians and plebeians, in being

a struggle of parties, not ranks. Very little positive information

concerning the constitution of the island has been preserved.[55]

Originally, probably, its Corinthian colonists established an

oligarchy: but the prosecution of maritime affairs was always held

greatly to favour the ascendency of the people, and in Thucydides we

find no trace of a privileged body of citizens at Corcyra any more than

at Athens. When speaking of the 250, whom the Corinthians selected

as a sort of hostages to regain their influence, he calls them, “for

the most part the first men of the city in power.”[56] Elsewhere he

describes them as “those in possession of things,” or “the few,”[57]

but not as the magistracy, or in terms which lead us to suppose that

they formed a constitutional aristocracy either of birth or wealth.

This, therefore, was a branch of the great struggle which gave its

character to the whole Peloponnesian war, whether the oligarchical

principle, under the patronage of Lacedæmon, or the democratic under

the patronage of Athens, should reign in Greece. The co–existence of

the two in peace seems, from the restless and intriguing temper of the

people, to have been impossible; and the experience of other cities had

shown that for the worsted party there was no security but in flight,

attended usually by sentence of exile and confiscation. And there is

no authority to which men submit so reluctantly, no hardships which

they feel so keenly, as those which arise from the elevation of their

former equals. The circumstances of the times, therefore, combined with

the spreading moral pestilence to give a desperation to this contest,

from which the early dissensions of patricians and plebeians, happily

for Rome, were free. Here each party had a definite object to contend

for; the one, the relaxation of oppressive privileges; the other, to

maintain unimpaired the immunities and dignity of their order: and each

had wisdom, the one to be moderate in its demands; the other to concede

moderately, rather than hazard the very being of the state by an

appeal to arms. No personal or political hatred inflamed the passions,

unless where some enslaved debtor was maddened by suffering, or some

hot–headed patrician, such as the old legends of Rome represented

Coriolanus to be, became impatient that the swinish multitude should

believe they had rights; each party felt that the other was necessary

to its welfare, and though driven to violence, the plebeians still

looked up with respect and affection to their hereditary aristocracy.

As these disturbances belong to an earlier, so the civil wars of

Marius and Sylla, and those which ended in the establishment of

the Empire, belong, we think, to a more advanced stage of society

than does the Corcyrean sedition, which is compared to them in the

foregoing quotation. Rome had reached, and had passed the period at

which a true democracy becomes impossible except through the medium of

representation; while at Corcyra, even when the popular faction was

supreme, the government was an oligarchy, in respect of the _whole_

population of the state, of which slaves and foreigners constituted, we

may presume, a considerable majority. The legislative and the armed

body were identical; a part of that body might triumph over the rest,

but no one could mount on the shoulders of the people to a military

despotism, and then kick away the step by which he had risen. No leader

seems to have risen to the absolute power of Marius, or Sylla, or

Cæsar; if there had, it must have been by consent of the prevailing

party, who would therefore have been implicated in his actions. At

Rome the case was very different: the legislative authority centred in

the resident citizens, the military power of the state was more than

equally shared with them by the provincial armies, composed partly of

barbarians, partly of subjects of the state, entitled to a greater

or lesser share of the privileges of citizenship, but not to vote in

the assemblies of the people, and partly, it is true, of citizens,

but those long absent from the seat of government, and careless about

politics, but devoted to the leader who had led them on to plunder,

honour, and victory. Some faction therefore was to be courted to gain

place and power, but he who had gained them, and with them military

command and influence, was in great measure independent of his former

associates. Sylla and Marius were terrible to friends as well as foes,

and it would be unfair to charge upon the Roman people the enormous

crimes committed under the military tyrannies which they established.

If we look for parallels in modern history, the search will not be

more successful. The domestic quarrels as well as the structure of the

Italian states, bear a close analogy to those of the Greek republics,

and the contests of the oligarchical and democratic parties, and the

influence of Sparta or Athens, as one or the other prevailed, may

be closely exemplified by the bitter quarrels of the Guelphs and

Ghibelines, and the interest exerted, by means of these parties, by

the Pope and the Emperor. But full as is Italian history of desperate

feuds, we cannot call to mind any one worthy to be compared with the

transactions at Corcyra. The massacre, called the Sicilian Vespers,

when 8000 French were surprised and slain in one night, by a

simultaneous insurrection of the native Sicilians, is a memorable and

frightful example of popular revenge: but the act of a people rising in

defence of its rights, atrocious as is such a method of asserting them,

is not to be placed by the side of so cold–blooded, and unprovoked, and

faithless a massacre as that of the conquered Corcyreans. The massacre

of St. Bartholomew might compete with it in point of treachery, but the

ground of quarrel, and the relation of the contending parties, were

entirely dissimilar.

The outrages committed in France by the insurgent peasantry, called

Jacquerie, are unlike the massacres at Corcyra, inasmuch as they belong

to an earlier stage of society, a stage again different from that

contemplated by Dr. Arnold, when he speaks of the harmless nature of

that earlier quarrel in which property and numbers are united against

property and birth. These risings, and the corresponding risings in

England, were the acts of men without property, and many of them

without a legal capability of acquiring it; men hostile to all the

institutions of society, because to them society had been little but

an engine of oppression. They were the efforts of brute force against

all that is superior to itself; the rage of the untamed wolf after he

has broken his chain. We say this not in justification of the conduct

of their feudal lords, nor in censure of their earnest desire to break

the yoke which bore them down to the ground. But whether their cause

was good or bad, the method of their advocating it was brutal; and

herein servile wars, if not most formidable as to their result, are

most to be deprecated, because the passions of each party are sure to

be exasperated to the uttermost: and because the insurgents, being

without the pale of the laws of war, have no temptation to show mercy,

and no hope but in victory. And so to the Jacquerie, every thing more

refined or exalted than themselves was the object of their deadly hate.

They had no thought to raise themselves; that was beyond the grasp of

their minds: but they were bent on pulling down others to their own

level, so that distinctions the most inoffensive or laudable were as

odious to them as the rank and power which had been misused to the

oppression of the commonalty. “Be it known unto thee by these presence,

even the presence of Lord Mortimer, that I am the besom that must sweep

the court clear of such filth as thou art. Thou hast most traitorously

corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar–school: and

whereas, before our fore–fathers had no other books but the score and

the tally, thou hast caused printing to be used, and contrary to the

king, his crown, and his dignity, thou hast built a paper–mill. It will

be proved to thy face that thou hast men about thee that usually talk

of a noun and a verb, and such abominable words as no Christian can

endure to hear. Thou hast appointed justices of peace, to call poor men

before them about matters that they were not able to answer. Moreover,

thou hast put them in prison, and because they could not read thou hast

hanged them, when, indeed, only for that cause they have been most

worthy to live.”[58]

This picture is somewhat highly coloured, but if the reader will

consult Holinshed for the account of Wat Tyler’s rebellion in 1381,

he will find that there is good authority for it. “To recite what was

done in every part of the realme, in time of these hellish troubles,

it is not possible; but this is to be considered, that the rage of the

commons was universallie such, as it might seem they had generallie

conspired together to do what mischeefe they could devise. As among

sundrie other, what wickednesse was it to compell teachers of children

in grammar schooles to swear never to instruct any in their art! Again,

they could never have a more mischievous meaning than to burn and

destroy all old and auncient monuments, and to murder and despatch out

of the way all such as were able to commit to memorie either any new or

old records. For it was dangerous among them to be known for one that

was learned, and more dangerous if any man were found with a penner and

inkhorn at his side, for such seldom escaped from them with life.”[59]

The fidelity with which Shakspeare has copied the chronicles may be

readily exemplified from a variety of passages.

_Cade._ How now! who’s there?

_Smith._ The clerk of Chatham; he can write, and read, and cast accompt.

_Cade._ O, monstrous! Come hither, sirrah. I must examine thee. What is

thy name?

_Clerk._ Emmanuel.

_Dick._ They used to write it on the top of letters. ‘Twill go hard with

you.

_Cade._ Let me alone. Dost thou use to write thy name, or hast thou a

mark to thyself, like an honest plain–dealing man?

_Clerk._ Sir, I thank God, I have been so well brought up that I can

write my name.

_All._ He hath confessed: away with him: he’s a villain and a traitor.

_Cade._ Away with him, I say: hang him with his pen and inkhorn about

his neck.

_Henry VI._, II. iv. 2.

It is time, however, to proceed to the historical evidence on which our

statements of the excesses of the Jacquerie are founded.

“Anon (A. D. 1358) there began a marvelouse trybulacion in the realme

of France, for certayne people of the common villages, without any head

or ruler, assembled togyder in Beauvoisin. In the beginning they passed

nat a hundred in nombre: they sayd how the noblemen of the realme of

Fraunce, knyghtes, and squyers, shamed the realme, and that it shulde

be a grete wealth to distroy them all; and eche of them sayd it was

true, and sayd alle with one voice,—Shame have he that doth nat his

power to distroy all the gentylmen of the realme. Thus they gathered

togyder without any other counsayle, and without any armure, saving

with staves and knyves, and so went to the house of a knyght dwelling

thereby, and brake up his house, and slew the knyght, and the lady,

and all his children, grete and small, and brent his house: and so dyd

they to dyvers other castelles and good houses. And they multiplied

so that they were a six thousand; and ever as they went forward they

increased, for such lyke as they were fell ever to them; so that every

gentylman fledde fro them, and took their wyves and chyldren with them,

and fledde x or xx leages off to be in suretie, and left their houses

voyde and their goods therein.—These myschevous people thus assembled

without capitayne or armure, robbed, brent, and slew all gentylmen

that they coude lay handes on, and forced and ravysshed ladyes and

damoselles, and dyd such shameful dedes, that no humayn creature ought

to think on any such, and he that dyd most mischiefe was most pleased

with them, and greatest maister.—Whan the gentylmen of Beauvoisin, of

Corbois, of Vermandois, and of other lands whereas these myschevous

people were conversant, saw the woodnesse[60] among them, they sent for

socours to their frendes into Flanders, to Brabant, to Hainault, and

to Bohemia: so there came fro all partes, and so all these gentylmen

straungers assembled togyder, and dyd sette upon these people wher

they might fynde them, and slew and hanged them upon trees by heapes.

The kynge of Naver on a day slew of them mo than thre thousand, beside

Cleremont in Beauvoisin. It was time to take them up, for and they had

been all togyder assembled, they were mo than an hundred thousand, and

when they were demanded why they dyd so yvell dedes, they wolde answer

and say, they could nat tell, but they did as they sawe other do,

thinking thereby to have distroyed all the nobles and gentylmen of the

world.”[61]

It was the same spirit which somewhat later, in England, prompted that

rebellion of Wat Tyler, of which we have above spoken. This was a

servile war, produced by oppression and misery; a rising of the serfs

against the nobles, “who hade grete fraunchise over the commons, and

kepeth them in servage, that is to say, their tenants ought by custom

to laboure the lorde’s landes, to gather and bring home theyr corne,

and some to thrash and to fanne; and by servage to make theyr hay, and

to hew theyr wood, and bring it home: all these things they ought to do

by servage.”——“These unhappy people beganne to styrre because they were

kept in grete servage; and in the begynning of the world, they sayd,

there were no bondmen; wherefore they mayntayned that none ought to be

bonde, without he dyd treason to his lorde, as Lucifer dyd to God; but

they sayd they coude have no such batayle, for they were nouther angels

nor spirittes, but men formed to the similitude of their lordes. Of

this imagynacyon was a folisshe priest of Kent, called Johan Ball, who

wolde oft tymes, on the sondaye after masse, assemble the people about

him, and say thus, A ye good people, the mater goth nat well to passe

in Englande, nor shall nat do tyll every thing be common; and that

there be no vyllayns nor gentylmen, but that we be all unied togyder,

and that the lordes be no greater maisters than we be. What have we

deserved, or why sholde we be thus kept in servage? We be all come

fro one father and one mother, Adam and Eve; whereby can they say or

showe that they be gretter lordes than we be?”[62] Part of the matter

of the priest’s sermon was well enough, and the cause was good, if its

supporters had been capable of self–government; but their object was to

establish anarchy, not liberty, and none will be found hardy enough to

regret their failure.

After dwelling so long on things which ought to be distinguished

from the Corcyrean sedition, it is time now, if ever, to produce

those which admit of being compared with it. We have but two to

bring forward: the second bears a more than usual resemblance to it

in respect of the events which took place; the first bears little

resemblance to it in respect of events, but is distinguished, if we

may trust the contemporary historian, by a forgetfulness of natural

ties, and relaxation of the bonds of society, very like that described

by Thucydides, and not less worth noticing because the two arose out

of entirely different circumstances, political and other. We allude

to the seditions which tore Constantinople, especially under the

reign of Justinian, ostensibly commencing in so petty a cause as the

superiority of one colour to another in skill or fortune in the public

games, in which those who contended for prizes, like our jockies,

were distinguished by colours. “The race,” says Gibbon, “in its first

institution, was a simple contest of two chariots, whose drivers were

distinguished by white and red liveries; two additional colours, a

light green and a cerulean blue, were afterwards introduced, and as the

races were repeated twenty–five times, one hundred chariots contributed

in the same day to the pomp of the circus. The four factions soon

acquired a legal establishment, and a mysterious origin, and their

fanciful colours were derived from the various appearances of nature

in the four seasons of the year; the red dogstar of summer, the snows

of winter, the deep shades of autumn, and the cheerful verdure of the

spring. Another interpretation preferred the elements to the seasons,

and the struggle of the green and blue was supposed to represent the

conflict of the earth and sea. Their respective victories announced

either a plentiful harvest, or a prosperous navigation, and the

hostility of the husbandmen and mariners was somewhat less absurd than

the blind ardour of the Roman people, who devoted their lives and

fortunes to the colour which they had espoused.”[63]

With the seat of government, the amusements and the laws of the Roman

circus were of course transferred to Constantinople. Here the mutual

jealousy of the colours soon became combined with political and

theological quarrels, and gave rise to disturbances which shook some

emperors on their thrones, and vitally affected the peace and welfare

of the state. The historian of the eastern empire has not traced the

steps by which these graver discords became connected with the badges

of amusement. A scholar of our own day has collected the scattered

facts which bear on this question, but still without furnishing a

satisfactory account of the origin or history of these divisions.[64]

It may indeed be inferred from a passage in Procopius, which we shall

presently quote, that even in his time no account could be given

or reason be assigned for so preposterous and blind an enmity. Nor

will this surprise any person who reflects how easily an accidental

quarrel is perpetuated by the adoption of a name or symbol, and how

greedily the vulgar adopt the outward sign of faction, regardless of

the principles which it indicates. Many bloody tumults and desperate

feuds would have been spared to Ireland if green and orange had never

been adopted as the signs of national and religious hatred; for men

would soon have ceased to care or inquire whether their neighbour went

to church or chapel, had not the insulting badges of ascendancy and of

dissent been continually paraded before their eyes. Any measure which

did away with the use of party colours at elections would contribute

largely to the quiet and well–being of England. Whatever raises an

ostensible division between two classes of society should be sedulously

discouraged by a government. The late Lord Liverpool, according to a

current story, showed his prudence in wearing and recommending white

hats, when that article of dress was the badge of a party violently

opposed to his government. His intention was answered perfectly, and

we now wear what we please without compromising our political faith.

Whatever was the origin and progress of the quarrel, we find in

the early part of the sixth century the blue and green factions

inveterately opposed to each other; the red having merged in the green,

and the white in the blue. In the reign of Anastasius, the greens

having brought concealed weapons into the theatre, massacred at once

3000 of their blue adversaries. A soldier of fortune, named Justin,

succeeded Anastasius, and was succeeded by his own nephew, Justinian,

during whose reign the blue faction gained the ascendancy: “A secret

attachment to the family or sect of Anastasius was imputed to the

greens; the blues were zealously devoted to the cause of orthodoxy and

Justinian, and their grateful patron protected, above five years, the

disorders of a faction, whose seasonable tumults overawed the palace,

the senate, and capitals of the East.”[65] “In every city,” says the

contemporary Procopius, “the people are from old time split into two

factions, of the blue and green; but it is not long since this frenzy

first possessed them, that in the cause of these names and colours in

which they appear at the public games, they will spend their substance,

expose their bodies to the bitterest indignities, and even consent to

die by a shameful death. And while they fight with the opposite party

they cannot tell the nature of their quarrel; being at the same time

aware that even if they get the upper hand in battle, they will then be

led to prison, and suffer a death of the worst tortures. This hatred of

one man to another springs up without cause; but it remains endless,

yielding neither to the rights of kindred or friendship, even though

brethren, or such near relations, be partisans of these colours. And

so long as their faction may have the uppermost, they care neither for

things human nor divine, whether there be any impiety offered towards

God, or whether the laws and government be violated by friend or

enemy. For being themselves probably in want of common necessaries,

they care not however deeply their country be injured, so long as their

own party is likely to thrive by it. And even women share in this

taint, not merely following their husbands, but even opposing them (if

it shall so chance), though they go never to the theatres, and are not

therefore excited by any such motives. So that I can call this nothing

better than a disease of the mind.”[66]

“In the Anecdotes, he speaks again, and more fully, of the excesses

committed by the blues under the protection of Justinian.

“They dressed their hair in a manner new to the Romans, letting the

moustache and beard grow to an extreme length, like the Persians, while

they shaved the fore part of their heads to the very temples, leaving

it to grow as long and thick as it liked behind, in imitation of the

Massagetæ, after whom they called this the Hunnish mode. In dress they

affected a splendour beyond their means, defraying the cost at other

men’s expense. Their sleeves were made very close at the wrist, but

up towards the shoulder they spread to an unutterable breadth.[67]

So that in the theatre or hippodrome as often as they moved their

hands in shouting, or encouraging others, as was their custom, they

usually raised the limb to make fools think their bodies so robust,

as that a garment of that size was necessary; not perceiving that by

the emptiness of the garment the spareness of the body was the more

shown. At first they carried arms, by night openly, and by day wore

double–edged daggers concealed under their clothes; and coming out

in companies as it grew dark, they stripped the better sort either

in the open market or in passages, robbing those who fell into their

hands of cloaks, golden brooches, or whatever else it might be. And

some they even killed after robbing them, that they might tell no

tales. By these doings all men were much grieved, and especially those

that were not of the blue faction (for even they themselves went not

scot–free), and from thenceforth men wore brass brooches, and girdles

and cloaks beneath their condition.... There was no known crime which

at this time was not committed and left unpunished. First they only

killed their adversaries, then advancing in guilt they slew those who

never had offended them. Many hired them to take off an enemy, which

they did under pretence that the dead man was of the green party,

though really he were quite unknown to them. And these things were not

done in darkness as before, but in every hour of the day and place

of the city, and before the eyes of the most eminent men: for being

in no fear of punishment they cared not for concealment; but rather

esteemed it a glory to those who laid claim to strength and manhood,

that at one blow they could kill any unarmed person who came across

them. In this slippery conjuncture no one had any hope of surviving;

for no place was strong, no season sacred enough to warrant security;

for even in the most honoured temples and assemblies men were slain,

and no account taken of them. There was no more trusting either in

friends or relations, for many perished by those who were nearest to

them. And no inquiry was made into what had been done, but evil fell

without warning, and no one helped him that was down. Law and contracts

were no longer binding; every thing went according to the will of the

strongest, and the state was like an unestablished tyranny, continually

passing into new hands and beginning afresh. The minds of the

authorities seemed to be amazed and enslaved by fear of one man; and

the judges determined causes not according to law and justice, but as

the parties in the suit were in good or bad odour with the parties in

the state. For it was a capital offence that a judge should controvert

the orders of the ruling party, the blues.”[68]

Such was the state of Constantinople, the blues exulting in the royal

favour, when, in January, 532, the citizens were assembled in the

hippodrome, the Emperor himself presiding over the games. The green

faction disturbed the peace of the assembly by complaints, until at

length Justinian was induced to enter into a parley with them by the

voice of an officer called Mandator, a sort of civil aide–de–camp,

whose duty was to receive and transmit his sovereign’s orders. The

dialogue which ensued is justly characterized by Gibbon, who has only

given a short specimen of it, as the most singular that ever passed

between a prince and his subjects.

We may premise, to account for the strange and unintelligible turn of

many of the sentences, that the original is written in the corrupt

Greek popularly spoken at Constantinople in the sixth century, and

is full of allusions to which we possess no key, and words which the

lexicographers have not explained, and sentences in which it is not

possible to make out any grammatical construction. These difficulties,

however, make the passage the more curious; inasmuch as they give

reason to suppose that the dialogue was taken down as it occurred, and

has not been polished in passing through the hands of historians.

_Green._ Long may you live, august Justinian. I am aggrieved, thou only

good one, I cannot bear it. God knows, I dare not name him, lest it turn

to his advantage and to my peril.

_Mandator._ Who is he? I know not.

_Green._ He who wrongs me will be found among the shoemakers,[69] thrice

august.

_Mand._ No one wrongs you.

_Green._ One, and one only wrongs me. Mother of God, may he never lift

his head again!

_Mand._ What man is he? I know not.

_Green._ You, and you only know, august Justinian, who wrongs me to–day.

_Mand._ If in truth there be any, I know him not.

_Green._ Calopodius, the armour–bearer, wrongs me, Master of all.

_Mand._ Calopodius has no employment.

_Green._ Be he who he may, he shall die the death of Judas! God repay

him his injuries to me, and that quickly!

_Mand._ You come, not to the games, but to insult your rulers.

_Green._ If any wrong me, he shall die the death of Judas!

_Mand._ Be quiet, ye Jews, Manichæans, and Samaritans.

_Green._ Jews are we, and Samaritans? the mother of God is with all.

_Mand._ How long will you heap curses on yourselves?

_Green._ If any deny that our master believes rightly, let him be

accursed like Judas!

_Mand._ I tell you to be baptized in the name of one.

This seems to be a theological gibe at the unorthodox party, which

they repel with anger. There is an ambiguity in the reply, which it is

not easy to translate, because, from the corruption of the text, or

from the debased Greek in which the dialogue is chiefly written, we

can come to no certain conclusion as to the real meaning. They express

their willingness to be baptized according to order, and use a word

which has been interpreted either to mean “Bring water,” or to confer

on Justinian the appellation of “Pump.” There certainly was something

in it which raised the Emperor’s wrath, and extracted from him a reply

more to the purpose than any yet made.

_Mand._ In truth, if you are not quiet I will cut off your heads.

_Green._ Every one seeks power for his own safety, and if we speak

because of our affliction, let not your greatness be indignant, for God

endures all of us. We having cause for what we say, give to every thing

its right name. We know not, thrice august, where the palace is, nor the

condition of the state. We go not into the city, except to lay snares

against the ass,[70] and I wish we went not for that, thrice august.

_Mand._ Every free man appears where he will, without danger.

_Green._ I hope I am free, yet I cannot appear without danger. And if a

man is free, if he be suspected to be green, he shall be openly punished.

_Mand._ Hang–dogs, have you no mercy on your own lives?

_Green._ Abolish our colour—justice is at an end. Cease yourself from

slaughter; then go to, we will be punished. See that blood–streaming

fountain, and then punish whom you will. Verily human nature cannot bear

these two things at once! O that Sabbatius[71] had never been born, then

would he never have begotten such a murderer. This is the twenty–sixth

murder that is done at Zeugma. In the morning he was at the theatre, in

the evening he was slain, Master of all!

_Blue._ You alone contain all the murderers of this stadium.

_Green._ When do you depart without slaughter?

_Blue._ You slay and disturb us; for you alone contain all the murderers

of the stadium.

_Green._ Justinian, master, they provoke and no one kills them. One

cannot choose but understand this. Who killed the carpenter at Zeugma?

_Mand._ You did.

_Green._ Who killed the son of Epagathus, O Emperor?

_Blue._ You murdered him, and you accuse the blues.

_Green._ Now the Lord pity us! Truth is oppressed. I should like to

enter into controversy with those who say that God directs affairs.

Whence this misery?

_Mand._ God is not tempted by evil. (_Θέος κακῶν ἀπέιραστος_)

_Green._ God is not tempted by evil. And who then is it that wrongs me?

If there be here philosopher or hermit, let him distinguish between the

two.

_Mand._ Blasphemers, odious to God, when will you cease?

_Green._ If your greatness wishes it I keep quiet, though against my

will. Thrice august, I know all—all—but I am silent. Justice, farewell,

your time is up. I change sides and turn Jew; nay, better to turn

Gentile than blue, God knows.

_Blue._ May I never see such a pollution! their envy troubles me.

_Green._ Dig up the bones of the spectators.[72]

After this the green party quitted the hippodrome, and left there

the Emperor and the blues. The sequel may warn sovereigns against

encouraging faction for their own ends. At this moment seven notorious

murderers of both factions were paraded through the city previous

to their execution. Five were immediately put to death, the other

two obtained a respite by the breaking of the rope which should have

hanged them. One of these surviving wretches belonged to the blue, the

other to the green faction; and the parties forgot their enmity for

a time to join in taking vengeance upon the government, which durst

do justice upon their members. The consequence was a desperate tumult

and insurrection, which lasted five days, during which a great part of

the city was burnt; and which is known by the name of Nika, Conquer,

from the watchword adopted by the rioters. For the history of it we

must refer to Gibbon, or to the original authorities quoted by him,

especially Procopius (Pers. i. 24) and Theophanes. At length Justinian

found means to revive the mutual animosity of the factions; the blues

resumed their allegiance to their protector, and the greens, left alone

in the hippodrome, were attacked by the veteran troops of Belisarius,

supported by their inveterate opponents. More than 30,000 persons are

said to have perished in the massacre.

A curious anecdote connected with this subject is related elsewhere by

Procopius. When Chosroes, the King of Persia, invaded Syria, he went to

Apamea to see the sports of the circus; and having heard of Justinian’s

devotion to the blue faction, he thought it expedient to patronize

the green. The blue charioteer at first had the advantage, the green

following close upon his track. Chosroes thinking this was done on

purpose to thwart him, became very angry, and cried out with threats,

that it was not fair to give Cæsar the start,[73] and ordered the

foremost to hold in their horses, and let the green get before them.

This was done, and Chosroes and the greens plumed themselves on their

victory.

The other example which we proposed to bring forward, which probably

has already suggested itself to many of our readers, is one of the most

memorable events of the French Revolution, the massacre of September

2–6, 1792. A short preface may serve to introduce it, since the history

of the Revolution is pretty generally familiar.

In the summer of 1792 the executive power of the state was in effect

wrested from the nominal authority, the Legislative Assembly, by a

body of men styled the Commune, who had possessed themselves of the

municipal government of Paris. In this body the leading persons were

the flagitious triumvirate, Robespierre, Danton, and Marat. It is

needless to speculate on the motives of such men. Whether the deed

which we are about to relate was perpetrated only to further the

ends of their party; whether, as some have said, it was prompted by

the desire to get rid of those who might lay claim to a large mass

of valuable personal property which had been seized from persons who

had been denounced and arrested, and is said to have been embezzled

by those disinterested patriots; or whether it were prompted solely

by a savage thirst for blood:—which of these, or what other motive

was the moving cause of this transaction, is of so little consequence

towards determining its character, that it would be a waste of words to

institute the inquiry. We proceed briefly to relate the facts.

[Illustration: Hippodrome of Constantinople.]

At the end of August, 1792, the invasion of the Prussians, their

advance to Verdun, and the capture of that strong place, created a

great panic in the capital. Apprehensions were felt or expressed of a

corresponding movement within the country on the part of the royalists,

and the stern Danton asserted, in boding words, that it was necessary

to strike fear into those who were disaffected to the republic. Before

this time many _aristocrats_, chiefly priests and nobles, had been

confined within the various prisons of Paris. Their numbers were now

increased to a fearful extent by recent arrests of persons adverse to

the Jacobin party, which then ruled in the Commune, until all these

receptacles of human misery were filled to overflowing. The near

approach of the Prussians was doubly favourable to the views of that

party; it gave a colourable pretext for taking strong measures against

all who could be represented as favouring the views of the invaders,

and a reason for summoning to the field the citizens who could be

called on to bear arms. The city being thus cleared of a large portion

of those who were most able, and probably most inclined to interfere by

force in the cause of justice and humanity, a free and safe course was

left open to the fury of that turbulent party, whose yoke bore so heavy

upon the liberated nation. It was determined by the junta in authority,

that the safety of France required the massacre of the prisoners; and

in the Marseillois and the mob of the capital, fit agents of the bloody

mandate were readily found.

The total number of persons confined in the Parisian prisons is so

differently stated that it is no easy matter even to approximate to the

truth; it is estimated by Scott (vol. ii. p. 41) at about 8000. Early

on the morning of September 2, news arrived of the capture of Verdun by

the Prussians. This struck a terror into Paris, by which the projectors

of the massacre hastened to profit. The barriers were shut, the tocsin

sounded, the alarm–gun fired. The prisons of Les Carmes, the Abbaye,

and La Force, were first attacked, not in consequence of any general

popular impulse; not by multitudes, such as had carried the Bastille

and the Tuileries against superior arms and discipline; but by a crew

of ruffians, composed partly of Marseillois, partly of the savage mob

of Paris, in number not perhaps much exceeding a hundred, and goaded,

it is said, with wine and spirits mixed with stimulating and maddening

drugs. Armed with pikes, sabres, and similar weapons, they beset the

prison doors to the sound of the Marseillois hymn, and demanded that

the conspirators, as they called them, should be delivered into their

hands: and the gaolers offered no resistance to their entrance.

Les Carmes, the Carmelite convent, had been converted into a prison

for suspected ecclesiastics. This was the first object of attack; and,

without parley, or the pretence of trial or inquiry, the murderers

burst in and began to fire on their victims. “Where,” it was asked,

“is the Archbishop of Arles?” That prelate advanced boldly, and was

cut down without his uttering a word of complaint. Others were hunted

round the gardens, and shot like wild beasts; some escaped over the

walls. At last, to proceed in a more orderly manner, and give less

opportunity for escape, the survivors were all collected in the church,

and led down two by two to be executed in the garden. The Bishop of

Saintes, whose leg had been broken by a bullet, is reported to have

said, “Gentlemen, I am ready to go and die, like the rest; but you see

the state in which I am, my leg is broken; I beg that you will assist

me, and I will go willingly to execution.” The difficulty of obtaining

correct information concerning these events may be estimated from the

statements of the number of ecclesiastics who perished in Les Carmes. A

royalist account raises it to 1168, a republican account reduces it to

163.[74] If it were necessary to make choice of either, we should not

hesitate to adopt the smaller number.

The Abbaye and La Force were the next objects of attack. Here there

was some mockery of judicial observances. The form of trial was brief

enough; a few armed ruffians constituted themselves a tribunal, before

which the prisoners were led one by one. The investigation seldom went

much beyond asking the name of the person, and referring to the charges

alleged against him in the gaoler’s register. If these afforded ground

for the suspicion of incivism, and the judges, as was almost always

the case, decreed his death, their sentence, to prevent the dangerous

efforts of despair, was conveyed in the equivocal terms, “Give the

prisoner freedom,” or, “Convey him to La Force,” if he were confined at

the Abbaye, and _vice versâ_. He was then led from the room, and struck

down, for the most part, before he reached the court–yard, with eager

cruelty. Women as well as men mingled in this frightful scene, and

inflicted the most loathsome indignities on the mangled bodies.

These proceedings were virtually authorized and encouraged by the

presence of deputies from the Commune, wearing the municipal scarf, but

nominally charged to select and deliver those who were imprisoned for

debt. Not content with this negative sanction, Billaud Varennes, who

was one of them, openly stimulated the murderers, promising them not

only the plunder of the dead bodies, but the further gratification of

a louis per day, as the reward of their good service. And it appears

from the records of the time, that this money was actually paid. Yet

much of the trifling property found on the persons of the slain was

delivered up, it is said, for the use of the state; as if the actors

of these horrors, by some strange caprice, had professed to be really

disinterested.

An officer named Saint Méard, who was confined in the Abbaye, has

written, under the title, ‘Mon Agonie de trente–huit heures,’ an

account of the feelings and conduct of the prisoners during the

frightful period of suspense, which elapsed between the commencement

of the massacres, and the moment when the fatal summons reached each

of the sufferers. “Our most important occupation,” he says, “was to

observe in what manner death might be met most easily when we should

enter the place of slaughter. From time to time we sent one of our

number to a turret–window, to let us know how the miserable men who

were destroyed met their fate, and to consider, from what they told

us, how it would be best for us to conduct ourselves. They said that

those who stretched out their hands protracted their sufferings,

because the sabre–strokes were deadened before they reached the head:

that sometimes their hands and arms were even hewn off before they

fell, and that those who placed their hands behind their backs would

suffer least. It was on such horrid particulars as these that we

had to deliberate. We calculated the advantages of this last–named

position, and in turn advised each other to assume it when our turn

should arrive.” It is hard to conceive a situation more trying to

human fortitude. The prisoners generally met their fate with firmness,

and in many instances boldly avowed and gloried in the principles and

hereditary honours which were the sure passports to their fate. In some

few instances the murderers relented. One or two men were preserved by

the devoted interposition of female relatives. But very few of those

who were imprisoned on political grounds lived to relate the horrors

which they had passed through. Saint Méard, although he boldly avowed

himself a royalist, was one of the number.[75]

For four days did this frightful scene continue, unsanctioned by

authority, save the instigation and half–expressed approbation of the

Commune, perpetrated by an insignificant mob, who, with the smallest

portion of energy, might have been overpowered at once. The Legislative

Assembly sent some of their members to remonstrate; men known as

Jacobins, who came back, and related that their interference had

been ineffectual, and no further steps were taken. The National Guard

remained quiet, waiting the orders of their superiors. Meanwhile, amid

this fear or lethargy, for neither the Assembly nor the Guard viewed

this butchery with favourable eyes, the judges and executioners ate,

drank, and slept, and returned unmolested and with new vigour to their

several functions.

The thirst of blood, once indulged, appears to have given rise to a

sort of intoxication. The mob attacked even the Bicêtre, a prison

containing none but criminals and lunatics. Here only they experienced

resistance; and the resistance was desperate. The gaolers made common

cause with the prisoners against the assailants; the stones and iron

bars of the building supplying them with weapons. They made good their

defence until cannon were brought against them, and they were mowed

down in the mass.

Of the number of persons who perished in this fearful scene no exact

account has ever been given. It is said, however, that not more than

200 or 300 of the prisoners committed for political offences are known

to have escaped; and on the smallest reckoning the slain amounted to

2000 or 3000. Some estimate them at double that number. Truchat stated

to the Legislative Assembly that 4000 had fallen. One statement, which

is introduced only to show the tendency to exaggeration in these

matters, raised the number to 12,800. Those who were imprisoned for

debt were set free by order of the Commune; and to these we must look

to make up the difference between the number of the slain and the

total number of 8000, said to have been in prison on September 2. The

bodies were interred in trenches, prepared, it is said, beforehand

by the Commune, but their bones were subsequently transferred to

the Catacombs. “In these melancholy regions, while other relics of

mortality lie exposed all around, the remains of those who perished in

the massacres of September are alone excluded from the public eye. The

vault in which they repose is closed with a screen of freestone, as if

relating to crimes unfit to be thought of even in the proper abode of

death, and which France would willingly hide in oblivion.”[76]

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