THE INTERNAL CONDITION OF FRANCE.

It has been seen that the French had decreed that there was no God: a day soon arrived which demonstrated, not only to France, but to all Europe, that there is a God, and that He is “the Judge of all the earth.” Hitherto the Jacobins had been one and indivisible as regards crime; but shortly after this display of madness, they split into two contending parties. Danton, the cruel Danton, became sated with blood, and wished to stop its effusion. But not so did his colleague Robespierre; and, fearing his vengeance, Danton retired into the country, and left his colleague to rule in cruelty alone. His vengeance first fell upon the heads of Rousin, Vincent, Chaumette, the apostle of reason, Hébert, the apostate archbishop of Paris, and Anacharisis Clootz; these were arrested on a charge of conspiring to overturn the government, and were hurried from the bar of the tribunal of the Jacobins, Robespierre being at their head, to the scaffold. Then fell Hérault-d-Séchelles, the friend of Danton, who was guillotined for sheltering a suspected person. Danton was then hunted down, with Desmoulins, editor of the Vieux Cordelier, Phelippean, Lacroix, Chabot, Baziere, and Fabre d’Eglantine: he was brought before the tribunal, and all perished on the scaffold. The death of these leaders of the revolution was followed by that of the innocent. The massacres which daily took place are too numerous for recital: the rage of the terrorists spared neither rank, nor age, nor sex. Nobles, magistrates, generals, ladies, and peasants, all in their turns, were guillotined without mercy. Nor was it in the capital alone that such scenes were committed. At Arras, Orange, and Nantes, the tribunals were equally guilty. At Nantes, Carrier still seemed to outrival Robespierre: the very fish of the river became unfit for food, from feeding on the carcases of his victims. Thus Robespierre and his party triumphed over all who dared oppose them. But, by a righteous retribution, they were soon made the instruments of their own punishment. Like Danton, it would appear that Robespierre became sated with blood; that he saw there was necessity for the cessation of these tragical scenes, and the establishment of order in the republic. He devised a plan for making the convention decree the existence of a Supreme Being, he deeming atheism the natural religion of the lazy and the rich. By his efforts, a fêté was ordained in honour of that Deity whom they had so long and so flagrantly despised. Robespierre was president of the convention for that day, and hence high-priest of the ceremonial. It was a proud day for him, but his career was to end in blood. Mad with envy, there were those who, in lieu of incense, saluted his ears with this ominous allusion: “The capitol is near the Tarpeian rock.” Robespierre thought, that by denouncing atheism, men might be disposed to become more orderly; in other words, that the Parisians and the nation at large would quietly submit to his rule. But he had accustomed the people to scenes of horror and bloodshed, so that their minds had become familiarised with them. There was danger in his own camp. At this time there was a committee of “general surety,” subordinate to the committee of “public safety:” and from this committee went forth all accusations and arrests which were tantamount to condemnation.. Against these Robespierre now turned his power, but as they had been accustomed to act as they pleased, as they had been allowed to send victims to the scaffold even out of mere wanton cruelty, this act of Robespierre gave them offence, and they resolved upon his overthrow. It was reported by them, that Robespierre had demanded the heads of half the assembly, and this alarmed the major part into resistance. Foreboding the approaching storm, Robespierre, with his confidants, especially Saint Just and Couthon, made out new lists of proscription. But it was too late. In a session of the convention, Tallien suddenly fell upon him with denunciations, and a fierce cry of “Down with the tyrant,” arose on every hand. Robespierre and his friends made impotent attempts to defend themselves, but their voices were drowned in the cry of “Down with the tyrant.” A decree for their arrest was passed and executed; but Robespierre, with the aid of the Jacobins, escaped from custody, and proceeded to the Hotel de Ville, where his adherents assembled around him. The municipality, the populace, and Henriot, the furious commandant of the citizen guards, were all on his side. Had Robespierre acted vigorously, the convention would have been lost. Henriot, indeed, caused the hall of assembly to be surrounded, and pointed the cannon against it; but, before this, the assembly decreed Robespierre, Henriot, and their adherents to be “out of the law,” and this vigorous proceeding decided the fate of the day. The cannoneers refused to fire; the convention resumed the offensive; and the armed sections, under the command of Barras, surrounded the Hotel de Ville, intent upon the destruction of the Jacobins. Robespierre discharged a pistol at his own head and fractured his jaw; the younger Robespierre threw himself out from a window, but survived the fall; Lebon stabbed himself; Couthon did the same, but without fatal effect; and Henriot was flung from a window into a drain and mutilated: all the rest were taken unhurt; and on the morrow, Robespierre, and all that survived, were all executed amidst the acclamations and applause of the citizens. On the two following days, likewise, eighty-three heads, mostly of municipal councillors and revolutionary judges, were decapitated. All Paris and France resounded with triumph. But the victory was not yet complete: the partisans of the system of terror were still numerous, both in the convention itself and throughout the city and the country. Their present leaders, indeed, Billaud-Varennes and Collot d’ Herbois, were no less sanguinary than the ferocious Robespierre himself. Hence the storm of passion and the work of strife did not cease with that tyrant’s fall. There was a cessation of strife, but the parties composing the convention soon came again into collision. These parties are known in history as the Thermidorians and the Jacobins. In one thing, both these parties were agreed; that since death was sworn to liberty by foreign and intestine enemies, terror only promised salvation. But the motives for this resolution were very dissimilar. The Thermidorians adhered with pure zeal to the republic, and regarded it as a duty to sacrifice all other interests to those of liberty; while the Jacobins sought only their own interests and paramount influence. From the opposition of these parties arose an undecided, and often contradictory course by the members of the convention. On the one hand, many prisoners were liberated, a milder form given to the revolutionary tribunal, and the power of the committee of safety restricted; while, on the other hand, the Jacobin club, which had been closed at the fall of Robespierre, was opened anew, executions were continued, the forms of the revolutionary government retained, and every assault averted from the leaders of the terrorists. Gradually, however, moderation got the upper hand; or, in other words, the Thermidorians triumphed. Their power was manifested by the execution of the monster Carrier, together with some of his infamous accomplices, and by a decree of investigation which finally passed against the highest heads—against Billaud-Varennes, Collot d’Herbois, and Rarrère, with some of their assistants. In the meantime their predominence was also shown in many beneficial decrees, as in those which abolished the maximum and arbitrary requisitions, put the relatives of the executed in the possession of their property, and prevented Vandalism in arts and sciences, and the profanation of churches. The provinces, also, felt the powerful influence of this new system. The Vendée again rose out of its ashes; bands of soldiers were again collected there to resist the republicans, as well as in Upper Poitou, and among the Chouans. Such were the results of this year of the revolution. At its close sentiments of humanity, long unknown, began to appear in the French government; but there was no relaxation in that energy and spirit which pushed its armies on to conquest. Revolutionary France still defied all Europe.

GEORGE III. 1794-1795

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