which it now is, gangrened by corruption, and without power to remedy
it, the Convention can no longer save the Republic: both will perish
together. The proscription of patriots is the order of the day. For
myself, I have already one foot in the tomb, in a few days I shall place
the other there; the rest is in the hands of Providence."
Nevertheless he began the attack, urged forward by men who had attached
their fortunes to his own, and by the disquietudes which agitated his
sour and dissatisfied spirit. He could no longer put up with advice even
from his most faithful friends, and the inflexible Saint-Just told him
to calm himself; "Empire is for the phlegmatic." A menacing petition
from the Jacobins preceded by a few hours a grand discourse from the
dictator. He always reckoned on the effect of his discourses, and all
the committees, one after another, had suffered from the asperity of his
attacks. "The accusations are all concentrated upon me," said he; "if
anyone casts patriots into prison in place of shutting up the
aristocrats there, it is said that Robespierre wills it. If the numerous
agents of the Committee of General Security extend their vexations and
rapine in all directions, it is said that Robespierre has sent them; if
a new law irritates the property-holders, it is Robespierre who is
ruining them; and meanwhile, in what hands are your finances? In the
hands of feuillants, of known cheats, of the Cambons, Mallarmes and
Ramels. Survey the field of victory, look at Belgium; dissensions have
been sown among our generals, the military aristocracy is protected,
faithful generals are persecuted, the military administration is
enveloped with a suspicious authority; they talk to you of war with
academic lightness, as if it cost neither blood nor labor. The truths
that I bring you are surely equal to epigrams.
"There exists a conspiracy against public liberty; it owes its force to
a criminal coalition which intrigues in the very bosom of the
Convention. That coalition has its accomplices in the Committee of
General Security, and in the _bureaux_, which they control. Some members
of the Committee of Public Safety are implicated in this plot; the
coalition thus formed seeks to ruin patriots and the country. What is
the remedy for this evil? To punish the traitors, to purify the
Committee of General Security, and subordinate it to the Committee of
Public Safety; to purify this committee itself, and constitute it the
Government under the authority of the National Convention, which is the
centre of authority and the chief judicial power. Thus would all the
factions be crushed by raising on their ruins the power of justice and
liberty. If it is impossible to advocate these principles without being
set down as ambitious, I shall conclude that tyranny reigns among us,
but not that I ought to hold my tongue; for what can be objected to a
man who is right, and who knows how to die for his country? I am put
here in order to combat crime, not to govern it. The time has not yet
come when good men can serve their country with impunity."
They listened in silence; no applause, no complaint had interrupted the
orator. For a long time the Convention had been unaccustomed to see the
masters of their fortunes and their lives making appeal to their supreme
authority. Their _role_ had long been limited to taking part in
oratorical tournaments and voting decrees. They did not yield, however,
to the seduction, and their faces remained grave and sombre. No one rose
to speak, but they began to exchange a few remarks, and a murmur ran
from bench to bench. The glove was thrown down, but as yet no champion
advanced to take it up. At length, and as if the courage of all was
reanimated at once by the same resolution, Vadier, Cambon, and
Billaud-Varennes rose together to mount the tribune. Cambon had been
wounded in his just pride as a financier and an honest man; he could
scarcely wait his turn.
"It is time," cried he, "to speak the entire truth. Is it I who need to
be accused of making myself master in any respect? The man who has made
himself master of everything, the man who paralyzes our will, is he who
has just spoken--Robespierre." At the same moment and from all lips came
the same cries. "It is Robespierre," said Billaud-Varennes. "It is
Robespierre," repeated Panis and Vadier. "Let him give an account of the
crimes of the deputies whose death he demanded from the Jacobins." And
as he hesitated, troubled by the vehemence of the attacks, "You who
pretend to have the courage of virtue, have the courage of truth," cried
Charlier to him; "name, name the individuals." In the midst of a growing
confusion the Assembly revoked the order to print the discourse of
Robespierre. It was to the two committees, filled with his enemies, that
the denunciation of the dictator was referred.
Robespierre took refuge with the Jacobins; he was troubled by the
opposition he had encountered, without being able to draw from it new
forces for the struggle. He redelivered his discourse, this time
welcomed with loud applause. "My friends," said he, "that which you have
just heard is my dying testament. I have seen to-day that the league of
the wicked is too strong for me to hope to escape it. I am ready to
drink the hemlock."
"I will drink it with thee," cried David. The men of action were less
resigned. Henriot spoke of marching on the Convention, but Robespierre
still wished to speak; it was the course of May 31st that he wanted to
follow. The hall was crowded; people entered without tickets.
"Name thy enemies," they shouted to Robespierre; "name them; we will
deliver them to thee." Collot d'Herbois arrived, attempting a few
protestations of devotion; he was hooted and constrained to retire.
Hesitation and doubt still troubled every spirit and paralyzed every
hand. Collot and Billaud-Varennes returned to the Committee of Public
Safety. There they found Saint-Just, who had to read a report, but he
had not brought it with him. The two new-comers apostrophized him with
violence. "Thou art the accomplice of Robespierre; the project of your
infamous triumvirate is to assassinate us all, but if we succumb you
will not long enjoy the fruit of your crimes--the people will tear you
in pieces; thy pockets are full of denunciations against us; produce thy
lists." They advanced menacingly; Saint-Just shrank back, very pale. As
he went out he promised to read his report next day. Neither of the two
parties had as yet taken any effectual measure; they had contracted the
habit of being very prodigal of words. Tallien had endeavored to gain
over all that remained of the Left; three times he was repulsed by
Boissy d'Anglas and his friends. As he returned once more to the charge,
"Yes," they at length replied, with an ingenuousness almost cynical,
"yes, if you are the strongest." Tallien was intrusted to direct the
attack in the Convention.
Saint-Just had just entered; he had not appeared at the Committee of
Public Safety. "You have blighted my heart," he wrote to his colleagues,
"I am about to open it at the National Assembly." He presented himself,
however, as reporter of the Committee. In seeing him pass, Tallien,
occupied in assembling his forces, said loudly, "It is the moment; let
us enter." Saint-Just commenced: "I am not of any faction; I fight
against all. The course of events has brought it about that this tribune
should be perhaps the Tarpeian rock to him who shall come to tell you
that the members of the Government--" Tallien did not leave him time to
finish; he demanded leave to speak upon a motion of order. "Nor I
either; I am not of any faction; I only belong to myself and to
liberty. It is I who will make you hear the truth: no good citizen can
restrain his tears over the unfortunate condition of public affairs.
Yesterday a member of the Government was here alone and denounced his
colleagues: to-day another comes to do as much by him; these dissensions
aggravate the evils of our country. I demand that the veil be torn
away." Applause echoed from all parts of the hall.
Saint-Just wished to continue his speech. "Thou art not reporter,"
shouted the members. He remained motionless in the tribune, while
Billaud-Varennes came and stood beside him. He cast his eyes over the
hall. "I see here," said he, "one of the men who yesterday, at the
Jacobins, promised the massacre of the National Convention; let him be
arrested." The officers obeyed. "The Assembly is at the present time in
danger of massacre on every hand," continued Billaud; "it will perish if
it is feeble." The contagion of courage spread from man to man; all the
deputies stood up waving their hats. "Be tranquil," they cried to the
orator; "we will not give way." "You will tremble when you see in what
hands you are," continued Billaud; "the armed force is confided to
parricidal hands. The chief of the National Guard is an infamous
conspirator, the accomplice of Hebert; Lavalette was a noble, driven out
of the Army of the North and saved by Robespierre, whom he obeys. The
Revolutionary Tribunal is in his hands; everywhere he has made his will
supreme, and has sought to render himself absolute master; he has
dismissed the best Revolutionary Committee of Paris, he has ceased to
frequent the Committee of Public Safety since the day after the decree
of the 22d Prairial, which has been so disastrous to patriots. He
excites the Jacobins against the Assembly." A few feeble protestations
were now heard. "There is some murmuring, I think," said the speaker,
insolently.
He was about to continue the course of his accusations; but beside him
in the tribune Robespierre had replaced Saint-Just. His natural pallor
had become livid, rage sparkled in his glance. "I demand liberty to
speak," he cried. A single shout echoed through the hall. "Down with the
tyrant! Down with the tyrant!" "I demand liberty to speak," Robespierre
violently repeated. Tallien dashed into the tribune. "I demand that the
veil be torn away immediately," he cried; "the work is accomplished,
the conspirators are unmasked. Yesterday, at the Jacobins, I saw the
army of the new Cromwell formed, and I have come here armed with a
poignard to pierce his heart if the Assembly has not the courage to
decree his accusation. I demand the arrest of Henriot and his staff.
There will be no May 31st, no proscription; national justice alone will
strike the miscreants."
"I demand that Dumas be arrested," added Billaud-Varennes, "as well as
Boulanger [formerly lieutenant of Ronsin in the Vendee]; he was the most
ardent yesterday night at the Jacobins."
Meanwhile Robespierre was still in the tribune. Several times he strove
to begin speaking, but the same cry drowned his voice, "Down with the
tyrant!" The little group of those who were faithful to him, close
pressed together, followed him with their eyes without speaking, without
seconding his efforts; the mass of the Assembly, so docile a few days
before, was agitated with a violence that became more and more hostile.
Barere hesitated no longer. It is said that he had prepared two
statements; one favorable to and the other hostile to Robespierre. He
proposed to abolish the grade of commandant-general, and to call to the
bar the mayor Fleuriot and the National agent Payan, to answer there for
public tranquillity. The decree was voted; on all sides arose
accusations against Robespierre, everyone hastening to denounce him. "I
demand liberty to speak, to bring back this discussion to its true end
and aim," said Tallien. Robespierre raised his head; "I shall know well
how to bring it there," said he, in those imperious accents which
formerly cowed the Assembly. Tallien continued without noticing the
interruption. "The conspiracy is quite complete in the discourse read
and reread yesterday. It is there that I find arms to strike down this
man, whose virtue and patriotism have been so much vaunted; this man,
who appeared three days only after August 10th; this man, who has
abandoned his post at the Committee of Public Safety, in order to come
and calumniate his colleagues. It is not necessary to discuss in any
particular detail of the tyrant's career; his whole life condemns him."
Robespierre clutched at the tribune with both hands. He no longer sought
aid from the "Mountain," henceforth roused against him; he turned his
face toward the "Plain." "It is to you pure and virtuous men that I
address myself; I don't talk with scoundrels." "Down with the tyrant!"
responded the "Plain." Thuriot, who presided, rang his bell. "President
of assassins," cried Robespierre, "yet once more I demand liberty to
speak." His voice grew feebler. "The blood of Danton is choking him,"
cried Gamier de l'Aude. "Will this man long remain master of the
Convention?" asked Charles Duval. "Let us make an end! A decree, a
decree!" shouted Lasseau, at length. "A tyrant is hard to strike down,"
said Freron, in a loud voice. Robespierre remained in the tribune,
turning in his hands an open knife, alone, exposed to the vengeful anger
of them all. "Send me to death!" he cried to his enemies. And the voices
replied: "Thou hast merited it a thousand times. Down with the tyrant!"
The decree was voted in the midst of tumult. "I ask to share the lot of
my brother," cried the younger Robespierre. "It is understood," said
Lanchet, "that we have voted the arrest of the two Robespierres, of
Couthon, and Saint-Just." "I ask to be comprised in the decree,"
protested Lebas, faithfully devoted to Saint-Just. "The triumvirate of
Robespierre, Couthon, and Saint-Just," said Freron, "recalls the
proscriptions of Sylla. Couthon is a tiger thirsting for the blood of
the National representatives; he has dared to speak at the Jacobins of
five or six heads of the Convention; our corpses were to be the steps
for him to mount the throne!" The paralytic made a gesture of bitter
disdain. "I _mount_ the throne!" said he.
Thuriot proclaimed the decree; the acclamations that re-echoed were
furious, intoxicated with the joy of triumph. "Long live liberty! Long
live the Republic! Down with the tyrants; to the bar with the accused."
The officers, still bewildered with such an abrupt and sudden change,
had not dared to lay a hand upon the fallen dictator; rage broke forth
in the ranks of the Assembly. Robespierre and his brother, Saint-Just,
Lebas, descended slowly to the place lately reserved for their enemies.
Couthon had just placed himself there. The decree of arrest dispersed
them in different prisons; they had set out when the Assembly suspended
its sitting for an instant. "Let us go out together," said Robespierre.
The crowd, like the Assembly, gazed on them without acclamations and
without manifesting any sympathy for them; their army was re-forming
elsewhere.
The Commune of Paris and the club of the Jacobins had not laid down
their arms. An officer was sent to the Hotel de Ville to announce the
decree, which dismissed Henriot and summoned the Mayor to appear at the
bar. He naively demanded a receipt for his message. "On a day like this
we don't give receipts," replied the Mayor. "Tell Robespierre to have no
fear, for we are here."
The Commune, in fact, was active, while the Committees of the
Convention, stupefied at their own victories, were letting precious time
slip past. Already Henriot, half drunk, galloping along the streets,
stirred up the people, crying out that their faithful representatives
were being massacred, delivering over to insults Merlin de Thionville,
and sending to death the convoy of victims for the day. These the
inhabitants of the Faubourg St. Antoine set about delivering, from
compassion and from a vague instinct that the arrest of Robespierre
necessarily brought about a cessation of executions. The General Council
had sent to the jailers of the prisons an order to refuse to aid in the
incarceration of the accused. Robespierre and his friends were
successively brought to the Mairie. They found themselves again free at
the head of an insurrection precipitately got up, but directed by
desperate men, who felt their lives in danger if power escaped from
them. Henriot, arrested for a moment, and conducted to the Committee of
General Security, had been delivered by Coffinhal at the head of a
handful of men. He was again on horseback, and was menacing in the hall
of their sittings the Assembly, which had again come together.
The tocsin rang forth a full peal; the gates of Paris were closed. The
rising tumult of the insurrection reached the ears of the deputies; each
minute some inauspicious news arrived. It was said that the gunners of
the National Guard, seduced by Henriot, were coming to direct their
artillery against the palace. Collot d'Herbois mounted slowly to the
chair and seated himself there. "Representatives," said he, with a firm
voice, "the moment has come for us to die at our posts; miscreants have
invaded the National palace." All had taken their places; while the
spectators fled from the galleries with uproar and confusion. "I
propose," said Elie Lacoste with a loud voice, "that Henriot be
outlawed." At the same moment the dismissed commandant ordered his men
to fire.
Fearful and troubled, the gunners still hesitated. A group of
representatives went forth from the hall and cried, "What are you doing,
soldiers? That man is a rebel, who has just been outlawed." The gunners
had already lowered their matches, while Henriot fled at full gallop.
Barras had just been named commandant of the forces in his place; seven
representatives accompanied him. "Outlaw all those who shall take arms
against the Convention or who shall oppose its decrees," said Barere;
"as well as those who are eluding a decree of accusation or arrest." The
decree was voted; an officer of the Convention boldly accepted the duty
of bearing it to the Commune. The National agent, Payan, seized it from
him, and for bravado read it with a loud voice before the crowd that was
thronging in the hall of the Hotel de Ville. He added these words which
were not in the decree, "and all those found at this moment in the
galleries." The spectators disappeared as if struck with terror at the
name of the law. Times were changed. The mobile waves of public opinion
no longer upheld the tyrants overthrown by the accomplices who had now
become their enemies.
It was, without saying it, and possibly without knowing it, the feeling
of this public abandonment and reprobation which paralyzed the energy of
the five accused. Robespierre had arrived pale and trembling in all his
limbs; he had been tranquillized with difficulty. When Couthon, who
alone was retained for a time in the prison of La Bourbe, was at last
brought to the Hotel de Ville, he found the Council solely occupied with
the attack on the Convention, without making any efforts for rousing the
populace or for the vigorous resumption of power. "Have the armies been
written to?" he asked. "In the name of whom?" said Robespierre,
disheartened but calm. "Of the Convention which exists wherever we are;
the rest are but a handful of factious men, who are about to be
dispersed by armed force." Robespierre reflected; he shook his head. "We
must write in the name of the French people," said he. The words "_Au
nom du peuple_" were found in his handwriting on a sheet of paper.
It was also in the name of the people that Barras and his companions
reunited the battalions of the sections which slowly assembled; some had
recalled their men from the Hotel de Ville. The new military school, the
Ecole de Mars, had not appeared well disposed toward Lebas, who had
written to the Commandant Labreteche to hinder his pupils from ranging
themselves under the banners of the Convention; the young men marched
willingly at the request of Barras. The gunners collected on the Place
de Greve permitted Leonard Bourdon to approach. "Go!" said Tallien to
him, "and let the sun when it rises find no more traitors living." The
crowd dispersed on hearing the proclamation which outlawed the Commune
of Paris. The gunners abandoned their pieces; a few hours later they
came to seek them to protect the Convention. "Is it possible," cried
Henriot, as he came forth from the Hotel de Ville, "that these
scoundrels of gunners have abandoned me? Presently they will be
delivering me to the Tuileries!" He ran to announce the desertion to the
assembled Council-General. Coffinhal, indignant at his cowardice, seized
him by the shoulder and pushed him out by the window. The agents of the
police arrested him in a sewer.
Meanwhile the section of the Gravilliers had put itself in marching
order, commanded by Leonard Bourdon and by a gendarme named Meda,
intelligent and devoted, and who had acquired an ascendency over those
around him. He advanced toward the Hotel de Ville without encountering
any obstacle. Meda cried, in mounting the flight of steps, "Long live
Robespierre!" He penetrated into the hall, obstructed by the crowd; the
club of the Jacobins was deserted, Legendre had had the door closed; all
the leaders of the Revolution were assembled round the proscribed
representatives. They were discussing and vociferating, without ardor,
however, and without any true hope. Robespierre was seated at a table,
his head on his left hand, his elbow supported by his knee.
Meda advanced toward him, pistols in hand. "Surrender, traitor!" he
cried. Robespierre raised his head. "It is thou who art a traitor," he
said, "and I will have thee shot." At the same instant the gendarme
fired, fracturing the lower jaw of Robespierre. As he fell, his brother
opened the window, and, passing along the cornice, leaped out upon the
Place. He was dying when they came to pick him up.
Saint-Just, leaning over toward Lebas, said, "Kill me." Lebas, looking
him in the face, replied: "I have something better to do," pressing the
trigger of his pistol. He was dead when a fresh report resounded from
the staircase; Meda, who pursued Henriot, had just drawn on Couthon; his
bearer fell grievously wounded. The prisoners, formerly all-powerful,
now dying or condemned, were collected in the same room; thither
Robespierre and Couthon had been brought; the corpse of Lebas lay on the
floor; the crowd who besieged the gates wanted to throw the wounded into
the river. Couthon had great difficulty in making it understood that he
was not dead; Robespierre could not speak, and was carried on a chair to
the door of the Convention. A feeling of horror manifested itself in the
Assembly, "No, not here! not here!" was the cry. A surgeon came to
attend to the wounded man in the hall of the Committee of Public Safety;
he recovered from his swoon, and walked alone toward his chair; until
then he had been extended upon a table, a little deal box supporting his
wounded head. The blood flowed slowly from his mouth, and at times he
made a movement to wipe it away; his clothes and his face were smeared
with it. Robespierre appeared insensible to the injuries of those who
surrounded him; he made no complaint, inaccessible and alone in death as
in life. They carried him to the Conciergerie, where Saint-Just and
Couthon had just arrived. All had been outlawed; no procedure, no delay,
retarded their execution. Saint-Just, looking at a table of the _Rights
of Man_ hanging in the hall, said, "It is I, however, who have done
that."
The Conciergerie slowly filled; with Dumas, Fleuriot, Payan, Lavalette,
a large proportion of the members of the Council-General had been
arrested. The prisoners already retained here were pressing to the bars
of their windows, curious as to the noise that reached their ears, and
the vague rumors which had already excited mortal fears among the
informers. Before the room where were imprisoned Madame de Beauharnais
and Madame de Fontenay (afterward Madame Tallien), a woman appeared,
who, in a marked manner, held up a stone (_pierre_), enveloped it in her
dress (_robe_), and then made a gesture of beheading. The prisoners
comprehended, a thrill of joy pervaded their gloomy abode; all the
oppressed believed themselves already delivered.