The Fall of the Gironde.
The first sitting of the National Convention was held on the 21st September, 1792. The Parisian deputies, elected two or three weeks before, under the eyes of the Insurrectionary Commune, belonged almost entirely to the Jacobin party. Their election is a significant example of the methods of Jacobin organisation, and in that election Robespierre, always a vigilant wire-puller, had shown the adroitness of his tactics and had taken the most prominent part. The meeting of the electors took place on the 2nd September, the day when the prison massacres began. No sooner had the electors assembled, than they were transferred, by the directions of the Commune, from their ordinary meeting-place to the Jacobin Club. Some of the electors, who held moderate opinions, were then excluded by a preliminary vote. The system of secret voting was suspended, and all were obliged to vote openly before an audience loudly and watchfully alert. As one Jacobin speaker admitted, his party would have been 'beaten, even in Paris, in any election in which the voting had been secret.' The result was the victory of the extreme politicians. Robespierre, Danton, Marat and Collot d'Herbois were among the best known deputies elected, and all the heroes of the Insurrectionary Commune were brought triumphantly into the Convention.
In the provinces, however, the Jacobins were less successful. There too the minority carried the day, and most of the electors stayed away from the polls. But still the minority in the provinces represented a considerable bulk of opinion. Everywhere the result of the elections was to confirm the Coup d'etat of the 10th August. All who still took part in politics seemed to realise that the cause of the King was incompatible with the defence of the country, and preferred to put the interests of the country first. The consequence was that the Girondist party had a large following in the new Assembly. The Jacobins, it is true, were more compact and vigorous, and the great majority of members in the centre had no very definite views, and could not be depended on to vote consistently. But still the Girondist position was strong. They had the command of the Government. They had eloquent and effective speakers. They had several men of character and ability. They had behind them the weight of moderate opinion, which was shocked by the fearful disorders of September. The massacres had produced a reaction which tended, now that the danger of invasion was over, to strengthen the Girondist ranks. Had the Girondists possessed any organisation, any instincts of party management, or any leaders of authority and insight, they might have formed a powerful party, and have guided the Revolution yet.
But unfortunately the Girondists had none of these things. Vergniaud, their most splendid orator, had none of the qualities needed for a leader. Guadet and Gensonné, the two brilliant advocates who accompanied him from Bordeaux, were no better able to guide a party. Pétion, the ex-mayor, had proved his incompetence already. Roland, with all his honesty and aspirations after order, had little real capacity or strength. Condorcet, the philosopher of the Gironde, brought to the pursuit of politics all the characteristic vices of the academic mind. Barbaroux, the hero of the Marseillais, was only distinguished by his beauty from the rest. Isnard and Louvet, Lanjuinais and Gorsas could not supply what was wanting in their colleagues. The party itself had no cohesion. Brissot, who had for some time been its leader, could not impose his ascendency for long, and found his authority challenged by the rising reputation of Buzot. Gradually two sections of Brissotins and Buzotins grew up within the ranks of the Gironde, and rendered still remoter than before the prospects of united and decisive action on the part of the majority of the House.
Buzot owed to Madame Roland much of the influence which he enjoyed with his party. Her house was the chosen resort of the Gironde. Their policy was largely arranged in her drawing-room. Her husband was their chief representative in the Government, and her interest in her husband's policy was as well known as her attachment to Buzot. Madame Roland is known to us by the portrait which she herself has drawn, and that portrait shows us clearly her undoubted courage and ability, her enthusiasm for the philosophy which she had studied and for the ideals which her bright imagination loved. But the memoirs show us also the self-conscious genius of the writer, her swift but rather shallow judgments, the strong personal element in her opinions, the ill-controlled, ambitious restlessness of her generous and ardent mind, and her incapacity for moderation, for being just towards opponents or tender towards fallen foes. What part Madame Roland played in politics it is impossible to say exactly. We know something of her words and actions upon a few occasions, and those, in spite of the charm and romance which surround her, are not always creditable to her head or heart. She died bravely, and posterity, recognising that, has perhaps been bountiful towards her virtues. But in so far as she inspired the Girondists, her political influence can only be regarded as disastrous, for there never was a party worse advised.
Other women, fair and unfair, lovely and unloveable, appear in the story of the French Revolution. There were the salons of the early days, where the Royalists gathered at the houses of Madame de Chambonas and Madame de Sabran, while the other side found more congenial company in the rooms of Mesdames de Beauharnais and Talma. There was the salon of Madame de Genlis with its traditions of Orleanist intrigue, the official society of Madame Necker's circle, and Madame de Broglie's coterie of young, well-bred reformers. Later on, there was the salon of Madame de Staël, where the accomplished hostess pushed the interests of Narbonne as devotedly as Madame Roland pushed the interests of Buzot, and the well-lit tables of Madame de Sainte-Amaranthe, who expected to profit by the guests whom she received. There were the quieter but happier homes of Madame de Condorcet and Lucile Desmoulins. There were the not less happy women whom Danton, Robespierre and St. Just loved. There was the Queen, always gallant and unfortunate, but in her political influence most unfortunate of all; Charlotte Corday, the Girondist avenger, whose enthusiasm veiled from her the ugliness of murder; Theresa Tallien, who gave up her life and honour to a worthless man and used her power afterwards for purposes of mercy; Olympe de Gouges, the hapless dramatist and pamphleteer, who played her triple part as hostess, celebrity and victim in the Terror; and many another notable woman, of reputation high or low, of influence worthy or unworthy, such as the Demoiselles de Fernig, who served as aides-de-camp in Dumouriez' camp, Théroigne de Méricourt, known by all and loved by many, who, armed with a naked sabre, led the wild women in October to Versailles, Sophie Momoro, who headed the orgies on the Feast of Reason, and Rose Lacombe, the queen of the vile women who haunted the clubs and streets and galleries, disgraced the National Assembly, and knitted round the guillotine. It is strange, but it would seem to be indisputable, that, in many of the worst excesses of the Revolution, women of the worst character were specially conspicuous, and that when politics degenerated into savagery women without womanliness excelled the most.
The nine months which followed the meeting of the Convention were occupied by the struggle between the Jacobins and the Gironde. Even before the 10th August that struggle had begun. After the fall of Louis, it had become acute; and as soon as the Convention met, the animosities of the rival parties blazed out afresh. The difference in principle between Girondists and Jacobins is not altogether easy to define. Many tenets they professed to share in common, and until the 10th August their aims had been in some respects the same. One noticeable difference, however, between them, lies in the character of the men. The Jacobins, as a whole, though the rule is subject to exceptions, were men of a rougher stamp, occasionally ill-educated, coarse and unscrupulous, in some cases cruel, in many cases corrupt, but practical, alert and intrepid politicians, prepared to run great risks, merciless to their enemies if they conquered, sometimes ready with gay desperation to suffer if they lost the game. The Girondists, as a whole, were men of higher intellectual calibre, of more education and refinement, of a better cast. They were honest and decent. Their intentions were pure. They were embarrassed by scruples in a struggle with opponents who had none. They were distinguished by a fine enthusiasm for their vague and delusive ideals, which, if it seems theatrical now, was genuine then, and to which, while lamenting its waste and its errors, one may pay the tribute of respect.
But when one comes to principles, the difference between the two parties is less clear. The truth is that in the French Revolution there was no place for the Gironde. Two parties, and only two, were possible. One was the party which, representing the great majority of French feeling, had made the Revolution, had swept away the Ancien Régime, had founded the first constitution and had taken its name from its creation, the party which had aimed at establishing political freedom and a new system based on that in France. This party cared for liberty and order but wished for little more, and its mistakes and the fortunes of the time gradually lost it the control of events. The other was the new party, which rose to power on its rival's faults, which cared little for liberty and less for order, but which hoped to use the forces of distress and discontent to grasp the power which its rival had monopolised, to found a new social and industrial system in which it would secure a fairer profit for itself, and to destroy without scruple or compassion all who impeded the realisation of its aims.
Between these two parties the Girondists stood. They belonged to neither, but they shared to some extent the views of both. Like the first, they had moderation, a sense of restraint and a love of order. Like the second, they repudiated any compromise with the past and hoped to establish their Utopia. But though they were strong enough to defeat the first, they were not strong enough to resist the second, and they could not fuse with either. They could not join with the Constitutional party, or rally the moderate majority round them, because, though they shared its feeling of propriety, they scorned its tenets and prejudices, its king and its religion. They could not throw themselves into the arms of the Jacobins, because, though they liked some of their democratic schemes, they could not countenance the Jacobin excesses or the Jacobin intrigues, the ruthless levelling of the Jacobin maxims, the Jacobin contempt for property and life.