FROM THE DEATH OF DANTON, APRIL, 1794, TO THE 9TH THERMIDOR,
(27TH JULY, 1794)
During the four months following the fall of the Danton party, the
committees exercised their authority without opposition or restraint.
Death became the only means of governing, and the republic was given up to
daily and systematic executions. It was then were invented the alleged
conspiracies of the inmates of the prisons, crowded under the law _des
suspects_, or emptied by that of the 22nd Prairial, which might be called
the law _des condamnés;_ then the emissaries of the committee of public
safety entirely replaced in the departments those of the Mountain; and
Carrier, the protégé of Billaud, was seen in the west; Maigret, the
protégé of Couthon, in the south; and Joseph Lebon, the protégé of
Robespierre, in the north. The extermination _en masse_ of the enemies of
the democratic dictatorship, which had already been effected at Lyons and
Toulon by grape-shot, became still more horrible, by the noyades of
Nantes, and the scaffolds of Arras, Paris, and Orange.
May this example teach men a truth, which for their good ought to be
generally known, that in a revolution all depends on a first refusal and a
first struggle. To effect a pacific innovation, it must not be contested;
otherwise war is declared and the revolution spreads, because the whole
nation is aroused to its defence. When society is thus shaken to its
foundations, it is the most daring who triumph, and instead of wise and
temperate reformers, we find only extreme and inflexible innovators.
Engendered by contest, they maintain themselves by it; with one hand they
fight to maintain their sway, with the other they establish their system
with a view to its consolidation; they massacre in the name of their
doctrines: virtue, humanity, the welfare of the people, all that is
holiest on earth, they use to sanction their executions, and to protect
their dictatorship. Until they become exhausted and fall, all perish
indiscriminately, both the enemies and the partisans of reform. The
tempest dashes a whole nation against the rock of revolution. Inquire what
became of the men of 1789 in 1794, and it will be found that they were all
alike swept away in this vast shipwreck. As soon as one party appeared on
the field of battle, it summoned all the others thither, and all like it
were in turn conquered and exterminated; constitutionalists, Girondists,
the Mountain, and the Decemvirs themselves. At each defeat, the effusion
of blood became greater, and the system of tyranny more violent. The
Decemvirs were the most cruel, because they were the last.
The committee of public safety, being at once the object of the attacks of
Europe, and of the hatred of so many conquered parties, thought that any
abatement of violence would occasion its destruction; it wished at the
same time to subdue its foes, and to get rid of them. "The dead alone do
not return," said Barrère. "The more freely the social body perspires, the
more healthy it becomes," added Collot-d'Herbois. But the Decemvirs, not
suspecting their power to be ephemeral, aimed at founding a democracy, and
sought in institutions a security for its permanence in the time when they
should cease to employ executions. They possessed in the highest degree
the fanaticism of certain social theories, as the millenarians of the
English revolution, with whom they may be compared, had the fanaticism of
certain religious ideas. The one originated with the people, as the other
looked to God; these desired the most absolute political equality, as
those sought evangelical equality; these aspired to the reign of virtue,
as those to the reign of the saints. Human nature flies to extremes in all
things, and produces, in a religious epoch, democratic Christians--in a
philosophical epoch, political democrats.
Robespierre and Saint-Just had produced the plan of that democracy, whose
principles they professed in all their speeches; they wished to change the
manners, mind, and customs of France, and to make it a republic after the
manner of the ancients; they sought to establish the dominion of the
people; to have magistrates free from pride; citizens free from vice;
fraternity of intercourse, simplicity of manners, austerity of character,
and the worship of virtue. The symbolical words of the sect may be found
in the speeches of all the reporters of the committee, and especially in
those of Robespierre and Saint-Just. _Liberty and equality_ for the
government of the republic; _indivisibility_ for its form; _public safety_
for its defence and preservation; _virtue_ for its principle; _the Supreme
Being_ for its religion; as for the citizens, _fraternity_ for their daily
intercourse; _probity_ for their conduct; _good sense_ for their mental
qualities; _modesty_ for their public actions, which were to have for
object the welfare of the state, and not their own: such was the symbol of
this democracy. Fanaticism could not go further. The authors of this
system did not inquire into its practicability; they thought it just and
natural; and having power, they tried to establish it by violence. Not one
of these words but served to condemn a party or individuals. The royalists
and aristocrats were hunted down in the name of _liberty and equality_;
the Girondists in the name of _indivisibility_; Philippeaux, Camille
Desmoulins, and the moderate party, in the name of _public safety_;
Chaumette, Anacharsis Clootz, Gobet, Hébert, all the anarchical and
atheistical party, in the name of _virtue and the Supreme Being_; Chabot,
Bazire, Fabre-d'Eglantine, in the name of _probity_; Danton in the name of
_virtue and modesty_. In the eyes of fanatics, these _moral crimes_
necessitated their destruction, as much as the conspiracies which they
were accused of.
Robespierre was the patron of this sect, which had in the committee a more
zealous, disinterested, and fanatic partisan than himself, in the person
of Saint-Just, who was called the Apocalyptic. His features were bold but
regular, and marked by an expression determined, but melancholy. His eye
was steady and piercing; his hair black, straight, and long. His manners
cold, though his character was ardent; simple in his habits, austere and
sententious, he advanced without hesitation towards the completion of his
system. Though scarcely twenty-five years old, he was the boldest of the
Decemvirs, because his convictions were the deepest. Passionately devoted
to the republic, he was indefatigable in the committees, intrepid on his
missions to the armies, where he set an example of courage, sharing the
marches and dangers of the soldiers. His predilection for the multitude
did not make him pay court to their propensities; and far from adopting
their dress and language with Hébert, he wished to confer on them ease,
gravity, and dignity. But his policy made him more terrible than his
popular sentiments. He had much daring, coolness, readiness, and decision.
Rarely susceptible to pity, he reduced to form his measures for the public
safety, and put them into execution immediately. If he considered victory,
proscription, the dictatorship necessary, he at once demanded them. Unlike
Robespierre, he was completely a man of action. The latter, comprehending
all the use he might make of him, early gained him over in the convention.
Saint-Just, on his part, was drawn towards Robespierre by his reputation
for incorruptibility, his austere life, and the conformity of their ideas.
The terrible effects of their association may be conceived when we
consider their popularity, the envious and tyrannical passions of the one,
and the inflexible character and systematic views of the other. Couthon
had joined them; he was personally devoted to Robespierre. Although he had
a mild look and a partially paralysed frame, he was a man of merciless
fanaticism. They formed, in the committee, a triumvirate which soon sought
to engross all power. This ambition alienated the other members of the
committee, and caused their own destruction. In the meantime, the
triumvirate imperiously governed the convention and the committee itself.
When it was necessary to intimidate the assembly, Saint-Just was intrusted
with the task; when they wished to take it by surprise, Couthon was
employed. If the assembly murmured or hesitated, Robespierre rose, and
restored silence and terror by a single word.
During the first two months after the fall of the commune and the Danton
party, the Decemvirs, who were not yet divided, laboured to secure their
domination: their commissioners kept the departments in restraint, and the
armies of the republic were victorious on all the frontiers. The committee
took advantage of this moment of security and union to lay the foundation
of new manners and new institutions. It must never be forgotten, that in a
revolution men are moved by two tendencies, attachment to their ideas, and
a thirst for command. The members of the committee, at the beginning,
agreed in their democratic sentiments; at the end, they contended for
power.
Billaud-Varennes presented the theory of popular government and the means
of rendering the army always subordinate to the nation. Robespierre
delivered a discourse on the moral sentiments and solemnities suited to a
republic: he dedicated festivals _to the Supreme Being, to Truth, Justice,
Modesty, Friendship, Frugality, Fidelity, Immortality, Misfortune, etc._,
in a word, to all the moral and republican virtues. In this way he
prepared the establishment of the new worship _of the Supreme Being_.
Barrère made a report on the extirpation of mendicity, and the assistance
the republic owed to indigent citizens. All these reports passed into
decrees, agreeably to the wishes of the democrats. Barrère, whose habitual
speeches in the convention were calculated to disguise his servitude from
himself, was one of the most supple instruments of the committee; he
belonged to the régime of terror, neither from cruelty nor from
fanaticism. His manners were gentle, his private life blameless, and he
possessed great moderation of mind. But he was timid; and after having
been a constitutional royalist before the 10th of August, a moderate
republican prior to the 31st of May, he became the panegyrist and the co-
operator of the decemviral tyranny. This shows that, in a revolution, no
one should become an actor without decision of character. Intellect alone
is not inflexible enough; it is too accommodating; it finds reasons for
everything, even for what terrifies and disgusts it; it never knows when
to stop, at a time when one ought always to be prepared to die, and to end
one's part or end one's opinions.
Robespierre, who was considered the founder of this moral democracy, now
attained the highest degree of elevation and of power. He became the
object of the general flattery of his party; he was _the great man_ of the
republic. Men spoke of nothing but _of his virtue, of his genius, and of
his eloquence_. Two circumstances contributed to augment his importance
still further. On the 3rd Prairial, an obscure but intrepid man, named
l'Admiral, was determined to deliver France from Robespierre and Collot-
d'Herbois. He waited in vain for Robespierre all day, and at night he
resolved to kill Collot. He fired twice at him with pistols, but missed
him. The following day, a young girl, name Cécile Renaud, called at
Robespierre's house, and earnestly begged to speak with him. As he was
out, and as she still insisted upon being admitted, she was detained. She
carried a small parcel, and two knives were found on her person. "What
motive brought you to Robespierre's?" inquired her examiners. "I wanted to
speak to him." "On what business?" "That depended on how I might find
him." "Do you know citizen Robespierre?" "No, I sought to know him; I went
to his house to see what a tyrant was like." "What did you propose doing
with your two knives?" "Nothing, having no intention to injure any one."
"And your parcel?" "Contains a change of linen for my use in the place I
shall be sent to." "Where is that?" "To prison; and from thence to the
guillotine." The unfortunate girl was ultimately taken there, and her
family shared her fate.
Robespierre received marks of the most intoxicating adulation. At the
Jacobins and in the convention his preservation was attributed to the
_good genius of the republic_, and to _the Supreme Being_, whose existence
he had decreed on the 18th Floréal. The celebration of the new religion
had been fixed for the 20th Prairial throughout France. On the 16th,
Robespierre was unanimously appointed president of the convention, in
order that he might officiate as the pontiff at the festival. At that
ceremony he appeared at the head of the assembly, his face beaming with
joy and confidence, an unusual expression with him. He advanced alone,
fifteen feet in advance of his colleagues, attired in a magnificent dress,
holding flowers and ears of corn in his hand, the object of general
attention. Expectation was universally raised on this occasion: the
enemies of Robespierre foreboded attempts at usurpation, the persecuted
looked forward to a milder régime. He disappointed every one. He harangued
the people in his capacity of high priest, and concluded his speech, in
which all expected to find a hope of happier prospects, with these
discouraging words:--"_People, let us to-day give ourselves up to the
transports of pure delight! To-morrow we will renew our struggle against
vices and against tyrants._"
Two days after, on the 22nd Prairial, Couthon presented a new law to the
convention. The revolutionary tribunal had dutifully struck all those who
had been pointed out to it: royalists, constitutionalists, Girondists,
anarchists, and Mountain, had been all alike despatched to execution. But
it did not proceed expeditiously enough to satisfy the systematic
exterminators, who wished promptly, and at any cost, to get rid of all
their prisoners. It still observed some forms; these were suppressed. "All
tardiness," said Couthon, "is a crime, all indulgent formality a public
danger; there should be no longer delay in punishing the enemies of the
state than suffices to recognise them." Hitherto the prisoners had
counsel; they had them no longer:--_The law furnishes patriot jurymen for
the defence of calumniated patriots; it grants none to conspirators_. They
tried them, at first, individually; now they tried them _en masse_. There
had been some precision in the crimes, even when revolutionary; now _all
the enemies of the people_ were declared guilty, and all were pronounced
enemies of the people _who sought to destroy liberty by force or
stratagem_. The jury before had the law to guide their determinations,
they _now only had their conscience_. A single tribunal, Fouquier-Tinville
and a few jurymen, were not sufficient for the increase of victims the new
law threatened to bring before it; the tribunal was divided into four
sections, the number of judges and juries was increased, and the public
accuser had four substitutes appointed to assist him. Lastly, the deputies
of the people could not before be brought to trial without a decree of the
convention; but the law was now so drawn up that they could be tried on an
order from the committees. The law respecting suspected persons gave rise
to that of Prairial.
As soon as Couthon had made his report, a murmur of astonishment and alarm
pervaded the assembly. "If this law passes," cried Ruamps, "all we have to
do is to blow our brains out. I demand an adjourment." This motion was
supported; but Robespierre ascended the tribunal. "For a long time," said
he, "the national assembly has been accustomed to discuss and decree at
the same time, because it has long been delivered from the thraldom of
faction. I move that without considering the question of adjournment, the
convention debate, till eight in the evening if necessary, on the proposed
law." The discussion was immediately begun, and in thirty minutes after
the second reading, the decree was carried. But the following day, a few
members, more afraid of the law than of the committee, returned to the
debate of the day before. The Mountain, friends of Danton, fearing, for
their own sakes, the new provisions, which left the representatives at the
mercy of the Decemvirs, proposed to the convention to provide for the
safety of its members. Bourdon de l'Oise was the first to speak on this
subject; he was supported. Merlin, by a skilful amendment, restored the
old safeguard of the conventionalists, and the assembly adopted Merlin's
measure. Gradually, objections were made to the decree; the courage of the
Mountain increased, and the discussion became very animated. Couthon
attacked the Mountain. "Let them know," replied Bourdon de l'Oise--"let
the members of the committee know that if they are patriots, we are
patriots too. Let them know that I shall not reply with bitterness to
their reproaches. I esteem Couthon, I esteem the committee; but I also
esteem the unshaken Mountain which has saved our liberty." Robespierre,
surprised at this unexpected resistance, hurried to the tribune. "The
convention," said he, "the Mountain, and the committee are the same thing!
Every representative of the people who sincerely loves liberty, every
representative of the people who is ready to die for his country, belongs
to the Mountain! We should insult our country, assassinate the people, did
we allow a few intriguing persons, more contemptible than others, because
they are more hypocritical, to draw off a portion of the Mountain, and
make themselves the leaders of a party." "If was never my intention," said
Bourdon, "to make myself leader of a party." "It would be the height of
opprobrium," continued Robespierre, "if a few of our colleagues, led away
by calumny respecting our intentions and the object of our labours...." "I
insist on your proving what you assert," rejoined Bourdon. "I have been
very plainly called a scoundrel." "I did not name Bourdon. Woe to the man
who names himself! Yes, the Mountain is pure, it is sublime; intriguers do
not belong to the Mountain!" "Name them!" "I will name them when it is
necessary." The threats and the imperious tone of Robespierre, the support
of the other Decemvirs, and the feeling of fear which went round caused
profound silence. The amendment of Merlin was revoked as insulting to the
committee of public safety, and the whole law was adopted. From that time
executions took place in batches; and fifty persons were sent to death
daily. This _Terror_ within terror lasted about two months.
But the end of this system drew near. The sittings of Prairial were the
term of union for the member of the committees. From that time, silent
dissensions existed among them. They had advanced together, so long as
they had to contend together; but this ceased to be the case when they
found themselves alone in the arena, with habits of contest and the desire
for dominion. Moreover, their opinions were no longer entirely the same:
the democratic party were divided by the fall of the old commune; Billaud-
Varennes, Collot-d'Herbois, and the principal members of the committee of
general safety, Vadier, Amar, Vouland, clung to this overthrown faction,
and preferred _the worship of Reason_ to that of _the Supreme Being_. They
were also jealous of the fame, and anxious at the power of Robespierre,
who, in his turn, was irritated at their secret disapprobation and the
obstacles they opposed to his will. At this period, the latter conceived
the design of putting down the most enterprising members of the Mountain,
Tallien, Bourdon, Legendre, Fréron, Rovère, etc., and his rivals of the
committee.
Robespierre had a prodigious force at his disposal, the common people, who
considered the revolution as depending on him, supported him as the
representative of its doctrines and interests; the armed force of Paris,
commanded by Henriot, was at his command. He had entire sway over the
Jacobins, whom he admitted and ejected at pleasure; all important posts
were occupied by his creatures; he had formed the revolutionary tribunal
and the new committee himself, substituting Payan, the national agent, for
Chaumette, the attorney-general; and Fleuriot for Pache, in the office of
mayor. But what was his design in granting the most influential places to
new men, and in separating himself from the committees? Did he aspire to
the dictatorship? Did he only seek to establish his democracy _of virtue_
by the ruin of the remaining _immoral_ members of the Mountain, and the
_factious_ of the committee? Each party had lost its leaders: the Gironde
had lost the _twenty-two_; the commune, Hébert, Chaumette, and Ronsin; the
Mountain, Danton, Chabot, Lacroix, and Camille Desmoulins. But while thus
proscribing the leaders, Robespierre had carefully protected the sects. He
had defended the _seventy-three prisoners_ against the denunciations of
the Jacobins and the hatred of the committees; he had placed himself at
the head of the new commune; he had no longer reason to fear opposition to
his projects, whatever they might be, except from a few of the Mountain
and the members of the conventional government. It was against this double
obstacle that he directed his efforts during the last moments of his
career. It is probable that he did not separate the republic from his
protectorate, and that he thought to establish both on the overthrow of
the other parties.
The committees opposed Robespierre in their own way. They secretly strove
to bring about his fall by accusing him of tyranny; they caused the
establishment of his religion to be considered as the presage of his
usurpation; they recalled the haughty attitude he assumed on the 20th
Priarial, and the distance at which he kept even the national convention.
Among themselves, they called him _Pisistratus_, and this name already
passed from mouth to mouth. A circumstance, insignificant enough at any
other time, gave them an opportunity of attacking him indirectly. An old
woman, called _Catherine Théot_, played the prophetess in an obscure
habitation, surrounded by a few mystic sectaries: they styled her _the
Mother of God_, and she announced the immediate coming of a _Messiah_.
Among her followers there was on old associate of Robespierre in the
constituent assembly, the Chartreux Dom Gerle, who had a civic certificate
from Robespierre himself. When the committees discovered _the mysteries of
the Mother of God_, and her predictions, they believed or pretended to
believe, that Robespierre made use of her instrumentality to gain over the
fanatics, or to announce his elevation. They altered her name of _Théot_
into that of _Théos_, signifying God; and they craftily insinuated that
Robespierre was the Messiah she announced. The aged Vadier, in the name of
the committee of general safety, was deputed to bring forward a motion
against this new sect. He was vain and subtle; he denounced those who were
initiated into these mysteries, turned the worship into derision,
implicated Robespierre in it without naming him, and had the fanatics sent
to prison. Robespierre wished to save them. The conduct of the committee
of general safety greatly irritated him, and in the Jacobin club he spoke
of the speech of Vadier with contempt and anger. He experienced fresh
opposition from the committee of public safety, which refused to proceed
against the persons he pointed out to them. From that time he ceased to
join his colleagues in the government, and was rarely present at the
sittings of the convention. But he attended the Jacobins regularly; and
from the tribune of that club he hoped to overthrow his enemies as he had
hitherto done.
Naturally sad, suspicious and timid, he became more melancholy and
mistrustful than ever. He never went out without being accompanied by
several Jacobins armed with sticks, who were called his body-guard. He
soon commenced his denunciations in the popular assembly. "_All corrupt
men_," said he, "_must be expelled the convention._" This was designating
the friends of Danton. Robespierre had them watched with the most minute
anxiety. Every day spies followed all their motions, observing their
actions, haunts, and conversation. Robespierre not only attacked the
Dantonists at the Jacobins, he even arose against the committee itself,
and for that purpose he chose a day when Barrère presided in the popular
assembly. At the close of the sitting, the latter returned home
discouraged; "I am disgusted with men," said he to Villate. "What could be
his motive for attacking you?" inquired the other. "Robespierre is
insatiable," rejoined Barrère; "because we will not do all he wishes, he
must break with us. If he talked to us about Thuriot, Guffroi, Rovère
Lecointre, Panis, Cambon, Monestier, and the rest of the Dantonists, we
might agree with him; let him even require Tallien, Bourdon de l'Oise,
Legendre, Fréron, well; but Duval, Audoin, Leonard Bourdon, Vadier,
Vouland--it is impossible to consent." To give up members of the
committee of general safety, was to expose themselves; accordingly, while
fearing, they firmly awaited the attack. Robespierre was very formidable,
with respect to his power, his hatred, and his designs; it was for him to
begin the combat.
But how could he set about it? For the first time he was the author of a
conspiracy; hitherto he had taken advantage of all popular movements.
Danton, the Cordeliers, and the faubourgs had made the insurrection of the
10th of August against the throne; Marat, the Mountain, and the commune
had made that of the 31st of May against the Gironde; Billaud, Saint-Just,
and the committees had effected the ruin of the commune, and weakened the
Mountain. Robespierre remained alone. Unable to procure assistance from
the government, since he had declared against the committees, he had
recourse to the populace and the Jacobins. The principal conspirators were
Saint-Just, and Couthon in the committee; Fleuriot the mayor, and Payan
the national agent in the commune; Dumas the president, and Coffinhal the
vice-president, in the revolutionary tribunal; Henriot, the commander of
the armed force, and the popular society. On the 15th Messidor, three
weeks after the law of Prairial, and twenty-four days before the 9th
Thermidor, the resolution was already taken; at that time, and under that
date, Henriot wrote to the mayor: "You shall be satisfied with me,
comrade, and with the way in which I shall proceed; trust me, men who love
their country, easily agree in directing all their steps to the benefit of
public affairs. I would have wished, and I do wish, that the _secret of
the operation_ rested with us two; the wicked should know nothing of it.
Health and brotherhood."
Saint-Just was on a mission to the army of the north; Robespierre hastily
recalled him. While waiting his return, he prepared the public mind at the
Jacobins. In the sitting of the 3rd Thermidor, he complained of the
conduct of the committees, and of the _persecution of the patriots_, whom
he swore to defend. "There must no longer be traces of crime or faction,"
said he, "in any place whatever. A few scoundrels disgrace the convention;
but it will not allow itself to be swayed by them." He then urged his
colleagues, the Jacobins, to prevent _their reflections_ to the national
assembly. This was the transaction of the 31st of May. On the 4th, he
received a deputation from the department of l'Aisne, who came to complain
to him of the operations of the government, to which, for a month past, he
had been a stranger. "The convention," said Robespierre, in his reply to
the deputation, "in the situation in which it now stands, gangrened by
corruption, and being wholly unable to recover itself, cannot save the
republic-both must perish. The proscription of patriots is the order of
the day. As for me I have one foot in the tomb; in a few days the other
will follow it. The rest is in the hands of Providence." He was then
slightly indisposed, and he purposely exaggerated his discouragement, his
fears, and the dangers of the republic, in order to inflame the patriots,
and again bind the fate of the revolution with his own.
In the meantime. Saint-Just arrived from the army. He ascertained the
state of affairs from Robespierre. He presented himself to the committees,
the members of which received him coldly; every time he entered, they
ceased to deliberate. Saint-Just, who, from their silence, a few chance
words, and the expression of perplexity or hostility on their
countenances, saw there was no time to be lost, pressed Robespierre to
act. His Maxim was to strike at once, and resolutely. "Dare," said he,
"that is the secret of revolutions." But he wished to prevail on
Robespierre to take a measure, which was impossible, by urging him to
strike his foes, without apprising them. The force at his disposal was a
force of revolutionary opinion, and not an organized force. It was
necessary for him to seek the assistance of the convention or of the
commune, the legal authority of government, or the extraordinary authority
of insurrection. Such was the custom, and such must be all coups-d'état.
They could not even have recourse to insurrection, until after they had
received the refusal of the assembly, otherwise a pretext was wanting for
the rising. Robespierre was therefore obliged to commence the attack in
the convention itself. He hoped to obtain everything from it by his
ascendancy, or if, contrary to its custom, it resisted, he reckoned on the
people, urged by the commune, rising on the 9th Thermidor against the
proscribed of the Mountain, and the committee of public safety, as it had
risen on the 31st of May against the proscribed of the Gironde and the
Commission of Twelve. It is almost always by the past that man regulates
his conduct and his hopes.
On the 8th Thermidor, he entered the convention at an early hour. He
ascended the tribunal and denounced the committee in a most skilful
speech. "I am come," said he, "to defend before you your authority
insulted, and liberty violated. I will also defend myself; you will not be
surprised at this; you do not resemble the tyrants you contend with. The
cries of outraged innocence do not importune your ears, and you know that
this cause is not foreign to your interests." After this opening, he
complained of those who had calumniated him; he attacked those who sought
the ruin of the republic, either by excesses or moderation; those who
persecuted pacific citizens, meaning the committees, and those who
persecuted true patriots, meaning the Mountain. He associated himself with
the intentions, past conduct, and spirit of the convention; he added that
its enemies were his: "What have I done to merit persecution, if it
entered not into the general system of their conspiracy against the
convention? Have you not observed that, to isolate you from the nation,
they have given out that you are dictators, reigning by means of terror,
and disavowed by the silent wishes of all Frenchmen? For myself, what
faction do I belong to? To yourselves. What is that faction that, from the
beginning of the revolution, has overthrown all factions, and got rid of
acknowledged traitors. It is you, it is the people, it is principles. That
is the faction to which I am devoted, and against which all crimes are
leagued. For at least six weeks, my inability to do good and to check evil
has obliged me absolutely to renounce my functions as a member of the
committee of public safety. Has patriotism been better protected? Have
factions been more timid? Or the country more happy? At all times my
influence has been confined to pleading the cause of my country before the
national representation, and at the tribunal of public opinion." After
having attempted to confound his cause with that of the convention, he
tried to excite it against the committees by dwelling on the idea of its
independence. "Representatives of the people," said he, "it is time to
resume the pride and elevation of character which befits you. You are not
made to be ruled, but to rule the depositaries of your confidence."
While he thus endeavoured to tempt the assembly by the return of its power
and the end of its slavery, he addressed the moderate party, by reminding
them that they were indebted to him for the lives of the Seventy-Three,
and by holding forth hopes of returning order, justice, and clemency. He
spoke of changing the devouring and trickster system of finance, of
softening the revolutionary government, of guiding its influence, and
punishing its prevaricating agents. Lastly, he invoked the people, talked
of their necessities, and of their power. And when he had recalled all
that could act upon the interests, hopes, or fears of the convention, he
added: "We say, then, that there exists a conspiracy against public
liberty; that it owes its strength to a criminal coalition which intrigues
in the very heart of the convention; that this coalition has accomplices
in the committee of general safety; that the enemies of the republic have
opposed this committee to the committee of public safety, and have thus
constituted two governments; that members of the committee of public
safety are concerned in this plot; that the coalition thus formed seeks
the ruin both of patriots and of the country; What remedy is there for
this evil? Punish the traitors; compose anew the committee of general
safety; purify this committee, and make it subordinate to the committee of
public safety; purify the latter committee itself; constitute the unity of
the government under the supreme authority of the convention; crush every
faction under the weight of national authority, and establish on their
ruins the power of justice and liberty."
Not a murmur, not a mark of applause welcomed this declaration of war. The
silence with which Robespierre was heard continued long after he had
ceased speaking. Anxious looks were exchanged in all parts of the doubting
assembly. At length Lecointre of Versailles arose and proposed that the
speech should be printed. This motion was the signal for agitation,
discussion, and resistance. Bourdon de l'Oise opposed the motion for
printing the speech, as a dangerous measure. He was applauded. But
Barrère, in his ambiguous manner, having maintained that all speeches
ought to be published, and Couthon having moved that it should be sent to
all the communes of the republic, the convention, intimidated by this
apparent concord of the two opposite factions, decreed both the printing
and circulation of the speech.
The members of the two committees thus attacked, who had hitherto remained
silent, seeing the Mountain thwarted, and the majority undecided, thought
it time to speak. Vadier first opposed Robespierre's speech and
Robespierre himself. Cambon went further. "It is time," he cried, "to
speak the whole truth: one man paralyzed the resolution of the national
assembly; that man is Robespierre." "The mask must be torn off," added
Billaud-Varennes, "whatever face it may cover; I would rather my corpse
should serve an ambitious man for his throne, than by my silence to become
the accomplice of his crimes." Panis, Bentabole, Charlier, Thirion, Amar,
attacked him in turn. Fréron proposed to the convention to throw off the
fatal yoke of the committees. "The time is come," said he, "to revive
liberty of opinion; I move that the assembly revoke the decree which gives
the committee power to arrest the representatives of the people. Who can
speak freely while he fears an arrest?" Some applause was heard; but the
moment for the entire deliverance of the convention was not yet arrived.
It was necessary to contend with Robespierre from behind the committees,
in order subsequently to attack the committees more easily. Fréron's
motion was accordingly rejected. "The man who is prevented by fear from
delivering his opinion," said Billaud-Varennes, looking at him, "is not
worthy the title of a representative of the people." Attention was again
drawn to Robespierre. The decree ordering his speech to be printed was
recalled, and the convention submitted the speech to the examination of
the committees. Robespierre who had been surprised at this fiery
resistance, then said: "What! I had the courage to place before the
assembly truths which I think necessary to the safety of the country, and
you send my discourse for the examination of the members whom I accuse."
He retired, a little discouraged, but hoping to bring back the assembly to
his views, or rather, bring it into subjection with the aid of the
conspirators of the Jacobins and the commune.
In the evening he repaired to the popular society. He was received with
enthusiasm. He read the speech which the assembly had just condemned, and
the Jacobins loaded him with applause. He then recounted to them the
attacks which had been directed against him, and to increase their
excitement he added: "If necessary, I am ready to drink the cup of
Socrates." "Robespierre," cried a deputy, "I will drink it with you." "The
enemies of Robespierre," cried numbers on all sides, "are the enemies of
the country; let them be named, and they shall cease to live." During the
whole night Robespierre prepared his partisans for the following day. It
was agreed that they should assemble at the commune and the Jacobins, in
order to be ready for every event, while he, accompanied by his friends,
repaired to the assembly.
The committees had also spent the night in deliberation. Saint-Just had
appeared among them. His colleagues tried to disunite him from the
triumvirate; they deputed him to draw up a report on the events of the
preceding day, and submit it to them. But, instead of that, he drew up an
act of accusation, which he would not communicate to them, and said, as he
withdrew: "You have withered my heart; I am going to open it to the
convention." The committees placed all their hope in the courage of the
assembly and the union of parties. The Mountain had omitted nothing to
bring about this salutary agreement. They had addressed themselves to the
most influential members of the Right and of the Marais. They had
entreated Boissy d'Anglas and Durand de Maillane, who were at their head,
to join them against Robespierre. They hesitated at first: they were so
alarmed at his power, so full of resentment against the Mountain, that
they dismissed the Dantonists twice without listening to them. At last the
Dantonists returned to the charge a third time, and then the Right and the
Plain engaged to support them. There was thus a conspiracy on both sides.
All the parties of the assembly were united against Robespierre, all the
accomplices of the triumvirs were prepared to act against the convention.
In this state of affairs the sitting of the ninth Thermidor began.
The members of the assembly repaired there earlier than usual. About half-
past eleven they gathered in the passages, encouraging each other. The
Bourdon de l'Oise, one of the Mountain, approached Durand de Maillane, a
moderate, pressed his hand, and said--"The people of the Right are
excellent men." Rovère and Tallien came up and mingled their
congratulations with those of Bourdon. At twelve they saw, from the door
of the hall, Saint-Just ascend the tribune. "_Now is the time_," said
Tallien, and they entered the hall. Robespierre occupied a seat in front
of the tribune, doubtless in order to intimidate his adversaries with his
looks. Saint-Just began: "I belong," he said, "to no faction; I will
oppose them all. The course of things has perhaps made this tribune the
Tarpeian rock for him who shall tell you that the members of the
government have quitted the path of prudence." Tallien then interrupted
Saint-Just, and exclaimed violently: "No good citizen can restrain his
tears at the wretched state of public affairs. We see nothing but
divisions. Yesterday a member of the government separated himself from it
to accuse it. To-day another does the same. Men still seek to attack each
other, to increase the woes of the country, to precipitate it into the
abyss. Let the veil be wholly torn asunder." "It must! it must!" resounded
on every side.
Billaud-Varennes spoke from his seat--"Yesterday," said he, "the society
of Jacobins was filled with hired men, for no one had a card; yesterday
the design of assassinating the members of the national assembly was
developed in that society; yesterday I saw men uttering the most atrocious
insults against those who have never deviated from the revolution. I see
on the Mountain one of those men who threatened the republic; there he
is." "Arrest him! arrest him!" was the general cry. The serjeant seized
him, and took him to the committee of general safety. "The time is come
for speaking the truth," said Billaud. "The assembly would form a wrong
judgment of events and of the position in which it is placed, did it
conceal from itself that it is placed between two massacres. It will
perish, if feeble." "No! no! It will not perish!" exclaimed all the
members, rising from their seats. They swore to save the republic. The
spectators in the gallery applauded, and cried--"Vive la Convention
Rationale!" The impetuous Lebas attempted to speak in defence of the
triumvirs; he was not allowed to do so, and Billaud continued. He warned
the convention of its dangers, attacked Robespierre, pointed out his
accomplices, denounced his conduct and his plans of dictatorship. All eyes
were directed towards him. He faced them firmly for some time; but at
length, unable to contain himself, he rushed to the tribune. The cry of
"Down with the tyrant," instantly became general, and drowned his voice.
"Just now," said Tallien, "I required that the veil should be torn
asunder. It gives me pleasure to see that it is wholly sundered. The
conspirators are unmasked; they will soon be destroyed, and liberty will
triumph. I was present yesterday at the sitting of the Jacobins; I
trembled for my country. I saw the army of this new Cromwell forming, and
I armed myself with a poignard to stab him to the heart, if the national
convention wanted courage to decree his impeachment." He drew out his
poignard, brandished it before the indignant assembly, and moved before
anything else, the arrest of Henriot, the permanent sitting of the
assembly; and both motions were carried, in the midst of cries of--"Vive
la république!" Billaud also moved the arrest of three of Robespierre's
most daring accomplices, Dumas, Boulanger, and Dufrèse. Barrère caused the
convention to be placed under the guard of the armed sections, and drew up
a proclamation to be addressed to the people. Every one proposed a measure
of precaution. Vadier diverted the assembly for a moment, from the danger
which threatened it, to the affair of Catherine Théos. "Let us not be
diverted from the true object of debate," said Tallien. "I will undertake
to bring you back to it," said Robespierre. "Let us turn our attention to
the tyrant," rejoined Tallien, attacking him more warmly than before.
Robespierre, after attempting to speak several times, ascending and
descending the stairs of the tribune, while his voice was drowned by cries
of "Down with the tyrant!" and the bell which the president Thuriot
continued ringing, now made a last effort to be heard. "President of
assassins," he cried, "for the last time, will you let me speak?" But
Thuriot continued to ring his bell. Robespierre, after glancing at the
spectators in the public gallery, who remained motionless, turned towards
the Right. "Pure and virtuous men," said he, "I have recourse to you; give
me the hearing which these assassins refuse." No answer was returned;
profound silence prevailed. Then, wholly dejected, he returned to his
place, and sank on his seat exhausted by fatigue and rage. He foamed at
the mouth, and his utterance was choked. "Wretch!" said one of the
Mountain, "the blood of Danton chokes thee." His arrest was demanded and
supported on all sides. Young Robespierre now arose: "I am as guilty as my
brother," said he. "I share his virtues, and I will share his fate." "I
will not be involved in the opprobrium of this decree," added Lebas; "I
demand my arrest too." The assembly unanimously decreed the arrest of the
two Robespierres, Couthon, Lebas, and Saint-Just. The latter, after
standing for some time at the tribune with unchanged countenance,
descended with composure to his place. He had faced this protracted storm
without any show of agitation. The triumvirs were delivered to the
gendarmerie, who removed them amidst general applause. Robespierre
exclaimed, as he went out--"The republic is lost, the brigands triumph."
It was now half-past five, and the sitting was suspended till seven.
During this stormy contest the accomplices of the triumvirs had assembled
at the Commune and the Jacobins. Fleuriot the mayor, Payan the national
agent, and Henriot the commandant, had been at the Hôtel de Ville since
noon. They had assembled the municipal officers by the sound of the drum,
hoping that Robespierre would be triumphant in the assembly, and that they
should not require the general council to decree the insurrection, or the
sections to sustain it. A few hours after, a serjeant of the convention
arrived to summon the mayor to the bar of the assembly to give a report of
the state of Paris. "Go, and tell your scoundrels," said Henriot, "that we
are discussing how to purge them. Do not forget to tell Robespierre to be
firm, and to fear nothing." About half-past four they learned of the
arrest of the triumvirs, and the decree against their accomplices. The
tocsin was immediately sounded, the barriers closed, the general council
assembled, and the sectionaries called together. The cannoneers were
ordered to bring their pieces to the commune, and the revolutionary
committees to take the oath of insurrection. A message was sent to the
Jacobins, who sat permanently. The municipal deputies were received with
the greatest enthusiasm. "The society watches over the country," they were
told. "It has sworn to die rather than live under crime." At the same time
they concerted together, and established rapid communications between
these two centres of the insurrection. Henriot, on his side, to arouse the
people, ran through the streets, pistol in hand, at the head of his staff,
crying "to arms!" haranguing the multitude, and instigating all he met to
repair to the commune to _save the country_. While on this errand, two
members of the convention perceived him in the Rue Saint Honoré. They
summoned, in the name of the law, a few gendarmes to execute the order for
his arrest; they obeyed, and Henriot was pinioned and conveyed to the
committee of general safety.
Nothing, however, was decided as yet on either side. Each party made use
of its means of power; the convention of its decrees, the commune of the
insurrection; each party knew what would be the consequences of defeat,
and this rendered them both so active, so full of foresight and decision.
Success was long uncertain. From noon till five the convention had the
upper hand; it caused the arrest of the triumvirs, Payan the national
agent, and Henriot the commandant. It was already assembled, and the
commune had not yet collected its forces; but from six to eight the
insurgents regained their position, and the cause of the convention was
nearly lost. During this interval, the national representatives had
separated, and the commune had redoubled its efforts and audacity.
Robespierre had been transferred to the Luxembourg, his brother to Saint-
Lazare, Saint-Just to the Écossais, Couthon to La Bourbe, Lebas to the
Conciergerie. The commune, after having ordered the gaolers not to receive
them, sent municipal officers with detachments to bring them away.
Robespierre was liberated first, and conducted in triumph to the Hôtel de
Ville. On arriving, he was received with the greatest enthusiasm; "Long
live Robespierre! Down with the traitors!" resounded on all sides. A
little before, Coffinhal had departed, at the head of two hundred
cannoneers, to release Henriot, who was detained at the committee of
general safety. It was now seven o'clock, and the convention had resumed
its sitting. Its guard, at the most, was a hundred men. Coffinhal arrived,
made his way through the outer courts, entered the committee chamber, and
delivered Henriot. The latter repaired to the Place du Carrousel,
harangued the cannoneers, and ordered them to point their pieces on the
convention.
The assembly was just then discussing the danger to which it was exposed.
It had just heard of the alarming success of the conspirators, of the
insurrectional orders of the commune, the rescue of the triumvirs, their
presence at the Hôtel de Ville, the rage of the Jacobins, the successive
convocation of the revolutionary council and of the sections. It was
dreading a violent invasion every moment, when the terrified members of
the committees rushed in, fleeing from Coffinhal. They learned that the
committees were surrounded, and Henriot released. This news caused great
agitation. The next moment Amar entered precipitately, and announced that
the cannoneers, acted upon by Henriot, had turned their pieces upon the
convention. "Citizens," said the president, putting on his hat, in token
of distress, "the hour is come to die at our posts!" "Yes, yes! we will
die there!" exclaimed all the members. The people in the galleries rushed
out, crying, "To arms! Let us drive back the scoundrels!" And the assembly
courageously outlawed Henriot.
Fortunately for the assembly, Henriot could not prevail upon the
cannoneers to fire. His influence was limited to inducing them to
accompany him, and he turned his steps to the Hôtel de Ville. The refusal
of the cannoneers decided the fate of the day. From that moment the
commune, which had been on the point of triumphing, saw its affairs
decline. Having failed in a surprise by main force, it was reduced to the
slow measures of the insurrection; the point of attack was changed, and
soon it was no longer the commune which besieged the Tuileries, but the
convention which marched upon the Hôtel de Ville. The assembly instantly
outlawed the conspiring deputies and the insurgent commune. It sent
commissioners to the sections, to secure their aid, named the
representative Barras commandant of the armed force, joining with him
Fréron, Rovère, Bourdon de l'Oise, Féraud, Leonard Bourdon, Legendre, all
men of decision: and made the committees the centre of operation.
The sections, on the invitation of the commune, had assembled about nine
o'clock; the greater part of the citizens, in repairing thither, were
anxious, uncertain, and but vaguely informed of the quarrels between the
commune and the convention. The emissaries of the insurgents urged them to
join them and to march their battalions to the Hôtel de Ville. The
sections confined themselves to sending a deputation, but as soon as the
commissioners of the convention arrived among them, had communicated to
them the decrees and invitations of the assembly, and informed them that
there was a leader and a rallying point, they hesitated no longer. Their
battalions presented themselves in succession to the assembly; they swore
to defend it, and they passed in files through the hall, amid shouts of
enthusiasm and sincere applause. "The moments are precious," said Fréron;
"we must act; Barras is gone to take the orders of the committees; we will
march against the rebels; we will summon them in the name of the
convention to deliver up the traitors, and if they refuse, we will reduce
the building in which they are to ashes." "Go," said the president, "and
let not day appear before the heads of the conspirators have fallen." A
few battalions and some pieces of artillery were placed round the
assembly, to guard it from attack, and the sections then marched in two
columns against the commune. It was now nearly midnight.
The conspirators were still assembled. Robespierre, after having been
received with cries of enthusiasm, promises of devotedness and victory,
had been admitted into the general council between Payan and Fleuriot. The
Place de Grève was filled with men, and glittered with bayonets, pikes,
and cannon. They only waited the arrival of the sections to proceed to
action. The presence of their deputies, and the sending of municipal
commissioners in their midst, had inspired reliance on their aid. Henriot
answered for everything. The conspirators looked for certain victory; they
appointed an executive commission, prepared addresses to the armies, and
drew up various lists. Half-past midnight, however, arrived, and no
section had yet appeared, no order had yet been given, the triumvirs were
still sitting, and the crowd on the Place de Grève became discouraged by
this tardiness and indecision. A report spread in whispers that the
sections had declared in favour of the convention, that the commune was
outlawed, and that the troops of the convention were advancing. The
eagerness of the armed multitude had already abated, when a few emissaries
of the assembly glided among them, and raised the cry, "Vive la
convention!" Several voices repeated it. They then read the proclamation
of outlawry against the commune; and after hearing it, the whole crowd
dispersed. The Place de Grève was deserted in a moment. Henriot came down
a few minutes after, sabre in hand, to excite their courage; but finding
no one: "What!" cried he; "is it possible? Those rascals of cannoneers,
who saved my life five hours ago, now forsake me." He went up again. At
that moment, the columns of the convention arrived, surrounded the Hôtel
de Ville, silently took possession of all its outlets, and then shouted,
"Vive la convention nationale!"
The conspirators, finding they were lost, sought to escape the violence of
their enemies. A gendarme named Méda, who first entered the room where the
conspirators were assembled, fired a pistol at Robespierre and shattered
his jaw; Lebas wounded himself fatally; Robespierre the younger jumped
from a window on the third story, and survived his fall; Couthon hid
himself under a table; Saint-Just awaited his fate; Coffinhal, after
reproaching Henriot with cowardice, threw him from a window into a drain
and fled. Meantime, the conventionalists penetrated into the Hôtel de
Ville, traversed the desolate halls, seized the conspirators, and carried
them in triumph to the assembly. Bourdon entered the hall crying "Victory!
victory! the traitors are no more!" "The wretched Robespierre is there,"
said the president; "they are bringing him on a litter. Doubtless you
would not have him brought in." "No! no!" they cried; "carry him to the
Place de la Révolution!" He was deposited for some time at the committee
of general safety before he was transferred to the Conciergerie; and here,
stretched on a table, his face disfigured and bloody, exposed to the
looks, the invectives, the curses of all, he beheld the various parties
exulting in his fall, and charging upon him all the crimes that had been
committed. He displayed much insensibility during his last moments. He was
taken to the Conciergerie, and afterwards appeared before the
revolutionary tribunal, which, after identifying him and his accomplices,
sent them to the scaffold. On the 10th Thermidor, about five in the
evening, he ascended the death cart, placed between Henriot and Couthon,
mutilated like himself. His head was enveloped in linen saturated with
blood; his face was livid, his eyes almost visionless. An immense crowd
thronged around the cart, manifesting the most boisterous and exulting
joy. They congratulated and embraced each other, loading him with
imprecations, and pressed near to view him more closely. The gendarmes
pointed him out with their sabres. As to him, he seemed to regard the
crowd with contemptuous pity; Saint-Just looked calmly at them; the rest,
in number twenty-two, were dejected. Robespierre ascended the scaffold
last; when his head fell, shouts of applause arose in the air, and lasted
for some minutes.
With him ended the reign of terror, although he was not the most zealous
advocate of that system in his party. If he sought for supremacy, after
obtaining it, he would have employed moderation; and the reign of terror,
which ceased at his fall, would also have ceased with his triumph. I
regard his ruin to have been inevitable; he had no organized force; his
partisans, though numerous, were not enrolled; his instrument was the
force of opinion and of terror; accordingly, not being able to surprise
his foes by a strong hand, after the fashion of Cromwell, he sought to
intimidate them. Terror not succeeding, he tried insurrection. But as the
convention with the support of the committees had become courageous, so
the sections, relying on the courage of the convention, would naturally
declare against the insurgents. By attacking the government, he aroused
the assembly; by arousing the assembly, he aroused the people, and this
coalition necessarily ruined him. The convention on the 9th of Thermidor
was no longer, as on the 31st of May, divided, undecided, opposed to a
compact, numerous, and daring faction. All parties were united by defeat,
misfortune, and the proscription ever threatening them, and would
naturally cooperate in the event of a struggle. It did not, therefore,
depend on Robespierre himself to escape defeat; and it was not in his
power to secede from the committees. In the position to which he had
attained, one is consumed by one's passions, deceived by hopes and by
fortune, hitherto good; and when once the scaffolds have been erected,
justice and clemency are as impossible as peace, tranquillity, and the
dispensing of power when war is declared. One must then fall by the means
by which one has arisen; the man of faction must perish by the scaffold,
as conquerors by war.