DISSOLUTION OF THE CONVENTION.
Famine in Paris.--Strife between the Jeunesse Dorée and the
Jacobins.--Riots.--Scene in the Convention.--War with the Allies.--A
new Constitution.--Insurrection of the Sections.--Energy of General
Bonaparte.--Discomfiture of the Sections.--Narrative of the Duchess
of Abrantes.--Clemency of the Convention.--Its final Acts and
Dissolution, and Establishment of the Directory.
Let us return to Paris. The unprecedented severity of the winter had
caused fearful suffering among the populace of Paris. The troubled
times had broken up all the ordinary employments of peace. The war,
which had enrolled a million and a half of men under arms, had left
the fields uncultivated and deserted. A cruel famine wasted both city
and country. The Jacobins, who, though their clubs were closed, still
met at the corners of the streets and in the coffee-houses, took
advantage of this public misery to turn popular indignation against
the victorious Thermidorians. Tumults were again renewed, and hostile
partisans met in angry conflicts. The young men of the two parties had
frequent encounters in the pits of the theatres, bidding each other
defiance, and often proceeding to blows.
At the Théâtre Feydean, as in many other places, there was a bust of
Marat, who was still idolized by the Jacobins. The young men of the
Jeunesse Dorée, in expression of their detestation of Marat, and as an
insult to the Jacobins, climbed the balcony, threw down the bust, and
with shouts of execration dragged it through the mire of the streets.
[Illustration: THE JEUNESSE DOREÉ THROWING THE BUST OF MARAT INTO THE
GUTTER.]
The Jacobins, exasperated, swore to avenge the insult. Strongly armed,
they paraded the streets, carrying a bust of Marat in triumph, and
swearing bloody vengeance upon any who might attempt to disturb their
march. The firmness of the Convention alone averted a sanguinary
conflict. The public distress, intense and almost universal,
embarrassed and overwhelmed the Convention with the most difficult
questions in the endeavor to afford relief. On the 15th of March the
supply of food in Paris was so small that it was deemed necessary to
put the inhabitants upon rations, each individual being allowed but
one pound of bread per day. Agitation and tumults were now rapidly
increasing, and there were daily riots. The Convention was continually
besieged and insulted by haggard multitudes with petitions which
assumed the tone of fiercest threats. Scenes of confusion ensued which
bade defiance to all law, and which there was no authority to repress.
On the 20th of May there was one of the most fearful tumults which the
Revolution had yet witnessed. At five in the morning the _générale_ was
beating in the public squares and the tocsin ringing in the faubourgs.
The populace were rapidly mustering for any deeds of violence to which
their leaders might conduct them. At eleven o'clock the Convention
commenced its sitting. One of the members brought in a plan, which he
had secretly obtained, of a very efficiently-organized insurrection.
A crowd, mostly of women, filled the galleries. As the plan was read,
which appalled the deputies, the galleries vociferously applauded. The
Convention passed a few harmless decrees, such as, 1st, that the city
government was responsible for any attack upon the Convention; 2d, that
all the citizens were bound to receive orders from the Convention; and
3d, that there should be no insurrection. These decrees but provoked
the derision of the galleries. The tumult now became so great, the
women shouting "Bread!" and shaking their fists at the president and
the deputies, that all business was at a stand, and not a word of
debate could be heard.
At length, some soldiers were sent into the galleries with bayonets,
and the women were driven into the streets. They soon, however,
returned, aided by their friends. They battered down all the doors
and broke in and filled the hall with an armed, shouting, brutal mob.
Some of the citizens rallied for the defense of the Convention, and a
fierce battle raged within the hall and around the doors. Pistols and
muskets were discharged, swords clashed, bayonet crossed bayonet, while
yells and shrieks and imprecations deafened the ear. Drunken women
strode over the benches and clambered to the president's chair. A young
deputy, Feraud, was stabbed, then shot; his head was cut off, and,
pierced by a pike, was thrust into the face of the president, Boissy
d'Anglas, who most heroically maintained his post and his composure
through all these perilous scenes. For six hours the tumult raged
unabated. It was now seven o'clock in the evening, and the mob drove
all the deputies, like a flock of sheep, into the centre of the hall,
surrounded them with bristling bayonets and pikes, and ordered them to
issue decrees for the relief of the people. At length, near midnight,
a detachment of the National Guard arrived, dispersed the crowd around
the palace, and, entering the hall with fixed bayonets, scattered the
rioters. Tranquillity being restored, one of the members rose and said,
"It is then true that this Assembly, the cradle of the Republic, has
once more well nigh been its tomb. Fortunately, the crime of the
conspirators is prevented. But, Representatives, you would not be
worthy of the nation if you were not to avenge it in a signal manner."
[Illustration: SCENE IN THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.]
The rest of the night was passed in devising schemes to crush the
Jacobin power which had organized this insurrection. The Duchess
of Abrantes, who was then in Paris, thus alludes to these events:
"While the most frightful scenes," she writes, "were passing in the
Convention, the respectable inhabitants of Paris shut themselves up
in their houses, concealed their valuables, and awaited, with fearful
anxiety, the result. Toward evening my brother, whom we had not seen
during the day, came home to get something to eat; he was almost
famished, not having tasted food since the morning. Disorder still
raged, and we heard the most frightful noise in the streets, mingled
with the beating of drums. My brother had scarcely finished his hasty
repast when General Bonaparte arrived to make a similar claim upon our
hospitality. He also had tasted nothing since the morning, for all
the restaurateurs were closed. He soon dispatched what my brother had
left, and as he was eating he told us the news of the day. It was most
appalling; my brother had informed us but of part. He did not know of
the assassination of the unfortunate Feraud, whose body had been cut
almost piecemeal. 'They took his head,' said Bonaparte, 'and presented
it to poor Boissy d'Anglas, and the shock of this fiend-like act was
almost death to the president in his chair. Truly,' added he, 'if we
continue thus to sully our Revolution, it will be a disgrace to be a
Frenchman.'"[441]
Alarmed by the advance of anarchy, the Convention immediately
instituted proceedings against several prominent Jacobin members, who
were known to be ringleaders of the insurrection. They were arrested
and consigned to imprisonment in the Castle of Ham. Paris was declared
to be in a state of siege, and Pichegru, then in the full lustre of his
glory, was appointed commander of the armed force. The carriages which
conveyed the arrested deputies to the Castle of Ham had to pass through
the Elysian Fields. The Jacobins assembled in strong numbers and
endeavored to rescue them. The energy of Pichegru repelled the attempt.
A fight ensued, with cannon and small arms, in which several lives were
lost.
While these melancholy scenes were transpiring in Paris, the
combined fleets and armies of England, Austria, and Naples were
fiercely assailing the Republic at every vulnerable point. England,
being undisputed mistress of the sea, had nothing to fear from the
conflagration which she was kindling all over Europe. To stimulate
impoverished Austria to the war, the British government loaned her
$23,000,000 (£4,600,000). She augmented her own naval force to a
hundred thousand seamen, put into commission one hundred and eight
ships of the line, and raised her land forces to one hundred and fifty
thousand men.[442]
The question to be decided was, whether France had a right to abolish
monarchy and establish a republic. It is in vain for the Allies to say
that they were contending against the outrages which existed in France,
for their hostile movements preceded these scenes of carnage, and were
the efficient cause of nearly all the calamities that ensued. And,
deplorable as was the condition of France during the Reign of Terror,
even that reign was far more endurable by the masses of the people than
the domination of the old feudal despotism.
Carlyle makes the following appalling statement, the truth of which
will not be denied by any careful student of the Old Régime:
"History, looking back over this France through long times--back
to Turgot's time, for instance, when dumb Drudgery staggered up to
its king's palace, and, in wide expanse of sallow faces, squalor,
and winged raggedness, presented hieroglyphically its petition of
grievances, and, for answer, got hanged on a new gallows forty feet
high--confesses mournfully _that there is no period in which the
general twenty-five millions of France suffered less than in this
period which they named the Reign of Terror!_
"But it was not the dumb millions that suffered here; it was the
speaking thousands, and hundreds, and units, who shrieked and
published, and made the world ring with their wail, as they could and
should; that is the grand peculiarity. The frightfulest births of time
are never the loud-speaking ones, for these soon die; they are the
silent ones, which live from century to century."[443]
The Royalist emigrants, taking advantage of the clemency of the
Thermidorians, began now to return to France in great numbers, and were
very active every where in trying to promote a counter-revolution, and
in forming conspiracies to overthrow the Republic and re-establish the
Bourbons. They were supplied with immense sums of money to expend as
bribes.
A new Constitution was formed to meet the new emergencies of the
country. Instead of one General Assembly, they had two legislative
bodies. The Senate, called the _Council of the Ancients_, consisted
of two hundred and fifty members, of at least forty years of age, and
all were to be either widowers or married; one third to be renewed
every year. The lower house, called the _Council of the Five Hundred_,
was to be composed of members of at least thirty years of age, to be
renewed also annually by one third. Instead of an executive of sixteen
committees, _five Directors_ were intrusted with the executive power,
to be renewed annually by one fifth. Thus organized, the ship of state
was again launched upon its stormy voyage, to encounter tempests
without and mutiny within. This Constitution was the work of the
moderate Republican party, and restored the ascendency of the middle
class. As such it was obnoxious to the Jacobins.[444] France was now so
rent by hostile parties that no Constitution could long stand.
The old Constituent Assembly had, by a decree which was intended to be
very patriotic and self-denying, excluded itself from the Legislative
Assembly which was to succeed it. This act, however, proved to be
injudicious and disastrous. The Legislative Assembly, wishing to secure
a majority friendly to moderate Republicanism in the two bodies to be
elected under the new Constitution, _decreed that two thirds of their
own members should be elected_ to the two new legislative bodies.
This _decree_, which was accepted with great unanimity by France
as a whole, was exceedingly obnoxious to the Royalists and to the
Jacobins of Paris, both of whom hoped to obtain a majority under the
new Constitution. These two extremes now joined hands, and, as usual,
appealed for support to insurrection and the terrors of the mob. There
was no excuse for this violence, for the _Constitution_ was accepted
almost unanimously by France, and the _decrees_ by an immense majority.
It was in Paris alone that there was any opposition, and even there the
opposition was only to the _decrees_. Still, Royalists and Jacobins
united to crush the will of the nation by a Parisian mob.
Paris was divided in forty-eight electoral sections or wards. The
section of Lepelletier was the focus of the gathering storm. The tocsin
was rung, drums beat, and armed bands collected. The Convention sent
General Menou, a kind-hearted man, to surround this section and disarm
it. Overawed by the high rank of the leaders, Menou parleyed with them,
and, at length, alarmed by their numbers, their strength, and their
determination, by a sort of capitulation disgracefully retreated.
Napoleon Bonaparte was then in Paris, out of employment, and was that
evening at the Théâtre Feydeau. Some friends came and informed him of
the scenes which were transpiring. He immediately left the theatre and
hastened to the gallery of the Assembly, to witness the effect which
would be produced upon that body by the tidings of the retreat of
Menou.[445]
He found the Assembly in great commotion. Some one had moved the arrest
of Menou, and his trial for treason. It was a scene of tumult and
alarm, many speaking at once. Barras, who had acquired some reputation
for intrepidity and energy, was appointed as chief of the forces in
the place of Menou. Barras, who was well acquainted with the energetic
character of Napoleon, and who probably saw him in the gallery,
immediately requested that General Bonaparte should be appointed as his
second in command. Barras knew his man, and was willing to surrender to
the young brigadier-general the entire superintendence of the military
arrangements to quell the revolt.
The Convention had five thousand troops at its command. The sections
now, with clamor and tumult, were marching upon them with forty-five
thousand. Barras was a man of commanding stature and of powerful
frame. Napoleon, though he had acquired at Toulon a high reputation
in the army, was but little known in Paris. When Barras introduced
to the Convention the young general, a small, slender, pale-faced,
smooth-cheeked youth, who seemed to be not more than eighteen years of
age, all were surprised.
[Illustration: NAPOLEON BEFORE THE CONVENTION.]
"Are you willing," inquired the president, "to undertake the defense of
the Convention?"
"Yes," was the laconic reply.
The president hesitated, and then continued, "But are you aware of the
magnitude of the undertaking?"
Napoleon fixed that eagle eye upon him which few could meet
without quailing, and replied, "Perfectly; and I am in the habit
of accomplishing that which I undertake. But one condition is
indispensable. I must have the unlimited command, entirely untrammeled
by any orders from the Convention."
There was no time for debate; and even the most stupid could see that
in such an hour the public safety could only be secured by the prompt,
concentrated action of a single mind, sufficiently powerful to meet
the emergency. The characteristic traits of Napoleon's character were
perhaps never more conspicuously displayed than on this occasion--his
self-reliance, his skill in the choice of agents, his careful
preparation against the possibility of defeat, and his fortitude in
doing whatever might be necessary for the accomplishment of his plans.
Not a moment was lost. At Sablons, a few miles from Paris, there was a
park of forty pieces of artillery. Napoleon dispatched a young soldier,
whom he well knew, of most chivalrous daring and impetuosity, Joachim
Murat, to secure the guns. At the head of three hundred horse he was
almost instantly on the gallop, and arrived at Sablons just in time
to rescue the artillery from a smaller band of the insurrectionists,
who had also been dispatched to secure it. The guns were brought to
the Tuileries. They were promptly ranged to sweep all the avenues
leading to the Tuileries. The cavalry and a part of the infantry were
placed in reserve in the garden of the palace and in the Carrousel.
The Convention awoke fully to a sense of its danger and to the energy
of its commander when soldiers brought eight hundred muskets into the
hall, with which the deputies were to arm themselves and advance to
battle if necessary. Detachments of troops were dispatched to seize
by surprise all the provisions and ammunition in Paris, and convey
them to a safe dépôt in the Tuileries. A hospital for the wounded
was established in the palace, provided with necessaries for every
emergency. The troops of all kinds at Napoleon's disposal, variously
estimated at from five to eight thousand, were strongly posted in the
leading streets, at the bridges, in the Place Vendôme, and in the Place
de la Révolution. A strong detachment was sent to occupy the heights
of Meudon, Napoleon intending to retreat there, with the Convention,
in case of defeat. One section in Paris had voted with the immense
majority of the nation for the decrees. Chests of arms were sent to
that section to arm the voters in defense of the laws. A detachment was
sent to the road to St. Germain, to intercept any cannon from being
brought from that direction.
All this was accomplished in one short night, the 4th of October,
Napoleon seeming to infuse his own energy into every one around him. In
the mean time the sections, though by no means aware of the spirit they
were doomed to encounter, were not idle. They had organized a kind of
insurrectionary government, outlawed the committees of the Convention,
and had established a tribunal to punish those who should resist its
sovereignty. Several energetic generals, Jacobins, and also Royalists,
creeping from their retreats, offered their services to lead the attack
upon the Convention. General Danican, a Royalist, who had been a
general of brigade in the civil war which had desolated La Vendée, was
appointed commander-in-chief of the forces of the insurrection. He had
the National Guard, forty thousand strong, well armed, officered, and
disciplined, under his command. The morning of the 5th dawned.
The alarm-bells were now ringing and the _générale_ beating. The armed
hosts of the sections were mustering at their appointed rendezvous and
preparing to march upon the Convention. The members, in their seats,
in silence and awe awaited the assault, upon the issue of which their
lives were suspended. Napoleon, pale, solemn, and perfectly calm, was
waiting, resolved that the responsibility of the first blow should fall
upon his assailants, and that he would take the responsibility of the
second.
Soon the enemy were seen advancing from every direction, in masses
which filled the narrow streets of the city. With music and banners
they marched to attack the besieged on every side, confident, from
their numbers, of an easy victory. They did not believe that the few
and feeble troops of the Convention would dare to resist the populace
of Paris, but cherished the delusion that a few shots from their own
side would put all opposition to flight. Thus unhesitatingly they came
within sweep of the grapeshot with which Napoleon had charged his guns.
The troops of the Convention stood firm. The insurgents opened a volley
of bullets upon them. It was the signal for an instantaneous discharge,
direct, sanguinary, merciless, from every battery. A storm of grape
swept the streets. The columns of the assailants wavered, turned, fled,
and still the storm pursued them. One of the strongest battalions of
the insurgents had posted itself on the steps of the Church of Saint
Roche, where it occupied a commanding position for firing upon the
gunners of the Convention. Napoleon directed his artillery to advance
upon them by the cul de sac Dauphin, and immediately threw into their
crowded ranks a storm of grapeshot. The insurgents fought manfully
for a time, but were soon compelled to retreat, leaving the steps of
the church covered with the slain. As they fled, Napoleon pushed his
artillery up the street, and, wheeling to the right and the left, swept
the whole length of the Rue St. Honoré. In two hours the victory was
achieved, forty thousand men were vanquished by five thousand, the
streets were cleared, and Napoleon returned in calm triumph to the
Tuileries.[446]
It is interesting to catch a glimpse of Napoleon in his domestic life
at this time. The Duchess of Abrantes writes, "My parents arrived in
Paris on the 4th of September. Two days after my father was very ill.
Bonaparte, apprised by my brother, came immediately to see us. He
appeared to be affected by the state of my father, who, though in great
pain, insisted on seeing him. He came every day, and in the morning he
sent or called himself to inquire how he had passed the night. I can
not recollect his conduct at that period without sincere gratitude.
[Illustration: THE SECTIONS AT SAINT ROCHE.]
"He informed us that Paris was in such a state as must necessarily lead
to a convulsion. The sections were in, if not open, at least almost
avowed insurrection. The section Lepelletier, which was ours, was the
most turbulent, and, in fact, the most to be dreaded. Its orators did
not scruple to deliver the most incendiary speeches. They asserted that
the power of the assembled people was above the laws. 'Matters are
getting from bad to worse,' said Bonaparte; 'the counter-revolution
will shortly break forth, and it will, at the same time, become the
source of disasters.'
"As I have said, he came every day; he dined with us and passed
the evening in the drawing-room, talking in a low tone beside the
easy-chair of my mother, who, worn out with fatigue, dozed for a few
moments to recruit her strength, for she never quitted my father's
pillow. I recollect that, one evening, my father being very ill, my
mother was weeping and in great tribulation. It was ten o'clock. At
that time it was impossible to induce any of the servants of the hotel
to go out after nine. Bonaparte said nothing. He ran down stairs and
posted away to Duchannais, whom he brought back with him in spite of
his objections. The weather was dreadful; the rain poured in torrents.
Bonaparte had not been able to meet with a hackney coach to go to M.
Duchannais; he was wet through. Yes, indeed, at that period Bonaparte
had a heart susceptible of attachment.
"Meanwhile we became more and more alarmed every day by the dangers
which manifested themselves around us. Paris rung with the tumult of
the factions, each of which drew the sword and hoisted its standard.
Against the Convention, then the only real authority, were arrayed the
sections, which for some days past again declared war against it. Paris
resembled a garrison town. At night we heard the sentries calling to
and answering one another, as in a besieged town. The strictest search
was made for arms and ammunition.
"For some years my mother had been subject to nervous paroxysms. At
such times she disliked to have any body about her. On reaching the
drawing-room I found her all in tears and in one of the most violent
spasms. General Bonaparte was with her, endeavoring to soothe her. He
told me that on his arrival he found her on the point of attacking the
adjunct of the section to prevent his entering my father's chamber. 'I
should be glad to spare your mother such scenes,' said he; 'I have not
much influence, nevertheless I will go myself to the section. I will
see the president if possible and settle the business at once. Paris is
all on fire, especially since this morning. It is necessary to be very
cautious in every thing one does and in all one says. Your brother must
not go out any more. Attend to all this, for your mother is in a sad
state.'
"This was a dreadful night for my father. The next morning the
_générale_ was beat. The streets were already very unsafe, though
people were still passing to and fro in Paris, as though they were not
going to cut one another's throats a few hours afterward. The tumult
became very great at dusk; the theatres were nevertheless open. Indeed,
we are a nation of lunatics!
"On the morning of the 12th Vendémiaire (October 4) Bonaparte, who had
called according to custom, appeared to be lost in thought. He went
out, came back, went out again, and again returned when we were at our
dessert. 'I breakfasted very late,' said he, 'at Bourrienne's. They
talked politics there till I was quite tired of the subject. I will try
to learn the news, and if I have any thing interesting I will come and
tell you.'
"We did not see him again. The night was tumultuous, especially in
our section. The whole Rue de la Loi was bristling with bayonets.
Barricades were already set up in our streets. On the morning of the
13th (October 5) my father was very ill. For some hours we flattered
ourselves that matters would be adjusted between the Convention and
the rebels; but about half past four the firing of the cannon began.
The effect on my poor father was terrible. He gave a piercing shriek,
calling for assistance, and was seized with the most violent delirium.
All the scenes of the Revolution passed in review before him, and every
discharge that he heard was a blow struck at him personally. What a
day! what an evening! what a night! Every pane of glass was broken in
pieces. Toward evening the section fell back upon us. The fighting was
continued almost under our window, but when it had come to St. Roche we
imagined that the house was tumbling about our ears.
"My father was in the agonies of death; he shouted, he wept. Never, no,
never, shall I suffer what I did during that terrible night. Next day
tranquillity was restored, we were told, in Paris. I can scarcely give
any account of the 14th. Toward evening Bonaparte came for a moment; he
found me dissolved in tears. When he learned the cause his cheerful and
open countenance suddenly changed. My mother entered at that moment.
She knew no more than I how important a part Bonaparte had played on
that great day. 'Oh!' said my mother, 'they have killed my husband.
You, Napoleon, can feel for my distress. Do you recollect that on the
first Prairial, when you came to sup with me, you told me that you had
just prevented Barras from bombarding Paris? Do you recollect it? For
my part I have not forgotten it.'
"Many persons have alleged that Napoleon always regretted that day.
Be that as it may, he was always exceedingly kind to my mother in
these moments of affliction, though himself in circumstances that
could not but outweigh all other interests. He was like a son--like a
brother."[447]
The Convention treated the insurrectionists, who had thus been so
severely punished, with the utmost clemency.[448] Napoleon received
the thanks of the Convention and a brilliant reception. The Convention
united Belgium with France; decreed that the punishment of death
should be abolished as soon as a general peace with Europe could be
effected; changed the name of the Place of the Revolution to the Place
of Concord; pronounced an amnesty for all acts connected with the
Revolution, excepting one person implicated in the last revolt; and
then, on the 26th of October, 1795, the President of the Convention
pronounced these words,
"The National Convention declares that its mission is accomplished, and
its session is closed."
With one united shout--_The Republic forever!_--the deputies left the
hall and dispersed to their homes.
To the States-General fell the task, after a terrific struggle with
king and nobles, to create the Constituent Assembly, a great national
congress, whose function it was to moderate the despotism of the throne
by conferring upon a nation of twenty-five millions of people, after
ages of oppression, constitutional liberty. The Constituent Assembly,
which succeeded the States-General, abolished those old institutions of
feudal servitude which had become utterly unendurable, and established
a constitutional monarchy, taking as a model, in the main, the British
Constitution. The Legislative Assembly then took the place of the
Constituent, to enact laws in harmony with this Constitution. It
soon, however, found that the king was in league with despotic Europe
to overthrow constitutional liberty and restore the old despotism.
It consequently suspended the king, and the Constitution with which
his power was inseparably interwoven, and dissolved itself.[449] The
National Convention, which succeeded, commenced its deliberations on
the 21st of September, 1792.
"The Convention," says Thiers, "found a dethroned king, an annulled
Constitution, an administration entirely destroyed, a paper money
discredited, old skeletons of regiments worn out and empty. Thus it
was not liberty that it had to proclaim in presence of an enfeebled
and despised throne, it was liberty that it had to defend against all
Europe--a very difficult task. Without being for a moment daunted,
it proclaimed the Republic in the face of the hostile armies; it
then sacrificed the king, to cut off all retreat from itself; it
subsequently took all the powers into its own hands, and constituted
itself a dictatorship. Voices were raised in its bosom which talked
of _humanity_, when it wished to hear of nothing but _energy_; it
stifled them. This dictatorship, which the necessity of the general
preservation had obliged it to arrogate to itself over all France,
twelve of its members soon arrogated to themselves over it, for the
same reason, and on account of the same necessity. From the Alps to the
sea, from the Pyrenees to the Rhine, these twelve dictators seized upon
all, both men and things, and commenced the greatest and the most awful
struggle with the nations of Europe ever recorded in history. They
spilt torrents of blood, till, having become useless from victory, and
odious by the abuse of strength, they fell.
"The Convention then took the dictatorship again into its own
hands, and began, by degrees, to relax the springs of that terrible
administration. Rendered confident by victory, it listened to humanity,
and indulged its spirit of regeneration. It aimed at every thing good
and great, and pursued this purpose for a year; but the parties crushed
under its pitiless authority revived under its clemency. Two factions,
in which were blended, under infinite variety of shades, the friends
and the foes of the Revolution, attacked it by turns. It vanquished
the one and the other, and, till the last day, showed itself heroic
amid dangers. Lastly, it framed a Republican Constitution, and, after
a struggle of three years with Europe, with the factions, with itself,
mutilated and bleeding, it dissolved itself, and transmitted the
government of France to the Directory."[450]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 441: Memoirs of the Duchesse d'Abrantes, p. 90.]
[Footnote 442: Thiers, vol. iii., p. 242. New Annual Register.]
[Footnote 443: Carlyle's History of the French Revolution, vol. ii., p.
460.]
[Footnote 444: "This Constitution was the best, the wisest, the most
liberal, and the most provident that had as yet been established or
projected; it contained the result of six years' revolutionary and
legislative experience."--_Mignet_, p. 301.]
[Footnote 445: Las Casas.]
[Footnote 446: There is no exaggeration in the following account of the
condition of France at this time: "Since France had become Republican
every species of evil had accumulated upon its devoted head. Famine,
a total cessation of commerce, civil war, attended by its usual
accompaniments--conflagration, robbery, pillage, and murder. Justice
was interrupted; the sword of the law wielded by iniquity; property
spoliated; confiscation rendered the order of the day; the scaffold
permanently erected; calumnious denunciations held in the highest
estimation. Nothing was wanting to the general desolation."--_Hist. de
la Conv._, vol. ii., p. 215, 216.]
[Footnote 447: Memoirs of the Duchesse d'Abrantes, p. 118.]
[Footnote 448: "After this memorable conflict, when Bonaparte had been
publicly received with enthusiasm by the Convention, who declared that
he and Barras deserved well of their country, a great change took place
in him, and the change in regard to attention to his person was not the
least remarkable. He now never went out but in a handsome carriage, and
he lived in a very respectable house, Rue des Capucines. In short, he
had become an important, a necessary personage, and all without noise,
as if by magic."--_Duchess of Abrantes._]
[Footnote 449: The States-General held its session from May 6, 1789.]
[Footnote 450: Thiers, Fr. Rev., vol. iii., p. 333.]