The French Revolution of 1789, as Viewed in the Light of Republican Institutions

by John S. C. Abbott

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.