^» THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA RIVERSIDE BEQUEST OF ij3%: /■-:J"" -B^^^^ i:uijK.si'ip:i!i:E. Frnin a drawing attributed to Reranl. THE FRENCH REVOLUTION OF 17 8 9 AS VIEWED IN THE LIGHT OF REPUBLICAN INSTITUTIONS. BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. Mitb IRumei'ous Engravings. I2i TWO VOLUMES Volume II. NEW YORK : HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty-nine, by HARPER & BROTHERS, in the Clerk's OflBce of the District Court of the Southern District of New York- Copyright, 1887, by Susan Abboii Mead. THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. VOL. II. THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. VOLUME II. CHAPTER XXVIII. THE ROYAL FAMILY IMPRISONED. Tnmult and Dismay in the Assembl)'.— Storming the Tuileries.— Aspect of the Royal Family.— The Decree of Suspension.— Night in the Cloister.— The Royal Family Prisoners. —The Temple. —The Royal Family transferred to the Temple. But few of the excited thousands who crowded all the approaches to the Tuileries were conscious that the royal family had escaped from the palace. The clamor rapidly increased to a scene of terrific uproar. First a few gun- shots were heard, then volleys of musketry, then the deep booming of artillery, while shouts of onset, cries of fury, and the shrieks of the wound- ed and the dying filled the air. The hall of the Assembly was already crowded to suffocation, and the deputies stood powerless and appalled. A tumultuous mass pressed the door. Several bullets shattered the windows, and one or two cannon-balls passed through the roof of the building. Every one was exposed to fearful peril. There was no longer any retreat for the king. By the side of the presi- dent's chair there was a space inclosed by an iron railing, appropriated to the reporters. Several of the members aided the king in tearing down a portion of this railing, and all the royal family sought refuge there. At this moment the door of the hall was attacked, and tremendous blows seemed to shake the whole building. "We are stormed!" shouted one of the deputies. There was, however, no escape for any one in any direction, and for some moments there was witnessed a scene of confusion and terror which no language can describe. At the same time there was a frightful conflict raging in and around the palace. Immediately upon the departure of the king, all the Swiss troops, who were hated as foreign mercenaries hired to shoot down the French, were drawn into the palace from the court-yard, and were mingled in confu- sion through its apartments with the loyalist gentlemen, the officers, and the domestics. Notwithstanding the vast dimensions of the palace, it was so crowded that there was scarcely space to move. ' The throng in the Carrousel attacked one of the gates, broke it down, and rushed into the royal court, which was nearly vacated by the retire- ment of the Swiss. The companies of the National Guard in the Carrousel, instead of opposing, looked approvingly on, and were evidently quite dis' posed to lend the assailants a helping hand. A large piece of timber wag placed at the foot of the staiicase of the palace in the ibrm of a barrier, and TALLEYEAND. 1792.] THE ROYAL FAMILY IMPRISONED. 2S7 STORMING TnE TCTLERIER, AtTGrRT 10, 1792, behind this were intrenched in disorder, crowding the steps, the Swiss and Bome of the National Guard who adhered to the king.* * "Napoleon se trouvait au lOieme Aoat a Paris; il avail e'te present a Taction. II m'ecrevit line lettre tres detaille'e, que je lus a mcs collegues du dircctoire du de'partement ; voici Ics deux traits principaux. ' Si Louis XVI. se fut niontre a cheval la victoire lui fat restec; e'est ce qui ni'a paru, a I'esprit qui animait les proupes le matin. " ' Apres la victoire dcs Marseillais, j'en vis un sur le point de tuer un garde du corps ; je lui dis, " 'Homme du midi, sauvons ce malheureux ! " 'Es tu du midi? «"Oui! " ' Eh, bien ! sauvons le !' " — M^moires du Rot Joseph, t. i., p. 47. 288 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXYIII. Just then the whole Faubourg St. Antoine came marching along in solid column. They marched through the Carrousel, entered the court, and placed six pieces of cannon in battery to open a fire upon the palace. It was to avoid, if possible, a conflict, that the guards had been withdrawn from the court into the palace. The shouts of a countless multitude ap- plauded this military movement of the mob. The Swiss had received com- mand from the king not to fire. The crowd cautiously pressed nearer and nearer to the door, and at length, emboldened by the forbearance of the defenders of the palace, seized, with long poles to which hooks were at- tached, one after another of the sentinels, and, with shouts, captured and disarmed them. Thus five of the Swiss troops were taken prisoners. At last a single shot was fired, no one can tell on which side. It was the signal for blood. The Swiss, crowded upon the magnificent marble stairs, UASSAOBB OF THE BOTAL aUABD, AUOUBT 10, 1792. j^g2 ] THE ROYAL FAMILY IMPRISONED. 289 rising one above another, occupied a very formidable position. They in- Lntfy opened a deadly fire. Volley sueceeded volley, and every bullet Sd vfpon^he dense mass crowding the eourt. At the same moment, from Tvery window of the palaefr a storm of shot was showered down upon he foe In a moment the pavement was red with blood, and covered w.th he dying and the dead. The artillerymen abandoned their pieces and the whole multitude rushed pell-mell, trampling the dead and wounded beneath them in frantic endeavors to escape from the court into the Carrousel. n a few moments the whole court was evacuated, and remained strewed with pikes, muskets, grenadiers' caps, and gory bodies ,..,.., _,,, The besiegers, however, soon rallied. Following the disciplined troops from Marseilles, who were led by able officers, the multitude returned with indescribable fury to the charge. Cannon-balls bullets, and grapeshot dashed m the doors and the windows. Most of the loyalist gentlemen escaped by a secret passage through the long gallery of the Louvre, as he victorious rabble, with pike, bayonet, and sabre, poured resistlessly into the palace and rushed through all its apartments. The Swiss threw down their arms and begged for quarter. But the pitiless mob, exasperated by the slaughter of their friends, knew no mercy. Indiscriminate massacre ensued, accompanied with every conceivable act of brutality. For four hours the butchery continued, as attics, closets, cellars, chimneys, and vaults were searched, and the terrified victims were dragged out to die Some leaped from the windows and endeavored to escape through the Garden, ihey were pursued and mercilessly cut down. Some climbed the marble nionu- ments. The assassins, unwilling to injure the statuary, pricked them down with their bayonets and then slaughtered them at their feet. Seven hund- red and fifty Swiss were massacred in that day of blood. The Assembly during these hours were powerless, and they awaited m intense anxiety the issue of the combat. Nothing can more impressively show the weak and frivolous mind of the king than that, m such an hour, seeing the painter David in the hall, he inquired of him, " How soon shall you probably have my portrait completed / David brutally replied, " I will never, for the future, pamt the portrait of a tyrant until his head lies before me on the scaffold."* The queen sat in haughty silence. Her compressed lip, burning eye, and hectic cheek indicated the emotions of humiliation and of indignation with which she was consumed. The young princess wept, and her fevered face was stained with the dried current of her tears. The dauphin, too young to appreciate the terrible significance of the scene, looked around m bewildered '''' AteTeven o'clock reiterated shouts of victory, which rose from the Gar- den the palace the Carrousel, and all the adjoining streets and places, pro- claimed that the triumph of the people was complete. The Assembly, now overawed, unanimously passed a decree suspending the king, dismissmg the Royalist ministers, recalling the Girondist ministry, and convoking a Na- tional Assembly for the trial of the king. As Vergniaud read, in accents of grief, this decree to which the Assembly had been forced, the king listened * History of the Girondists, by Lamartinc, vol. ii., p. 77. T 290 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChaP. XXVIIL intently, and then said satirically to M. Coustard, who was standing by his side, " This is not a very constitutional act." "True," M. Coustard replied; "but it is the only means of saving your majesty's life." The Assembly immediately enacted the decrees, which the king had ve- toed, banishing the refractory priests and establishing a camp near Paris. Danton,* whose tremendous energies had guided the insurrection, was ap- pointed Minister of Justice. Monge, the illustrious mathematician, by the nomination of his equally illustrious friend Condorcet, was placed at the head of the Marine. Lebrun, a man of probity and untiring energy, was appointed Minister of Foreign Affairs. Thus was the whole government effectually revolutionized and reorgan- ized. During all the long hours of this day the royal family sat in the crowded Assembly almost suffocated with heat, and enduring anguish which no tongue can tell. The streets were filled with uproar, and the waves of popular tumult dashed against the old monastery of the Feuillans, even threatening to break in the doors. The regal victims listened to the decrees which tore the crown from the brow of the king, and which placed his sceptre in the hands of his most envenomed foes. In the -conflict with the defenders of the palace, between three and four thousand of the populace had perished, in revenge for which nearly eight hundred of the inmates of the Tuileries had been massacred. The relatives of the slain citizens, ex- asperated beyond measure, were clamorous for the blood of the king as the cause of the death of their friends. There was no possible covert for the royal family but in the Assembly. Fifty armed soldiers, with bayonets fixed, sur- rounded them in their box, and yet it was every moment feared that the populace would break in and satiate their rage with the blood of the monarch and his family. The king was ever famed for his ravenous appetite. Even in the midst of these terrific scenes he was hmigry and called for food. Bread, wine, and cold viands were brought to him. He ate and drank voraciously to the ex- treme mortification of the queen, who could not but perceive how little re- spect the conduct of the king inspired. Neither she, Madame Elizabeth, nor the children could taste of any food. They merely occasionally moistened their fevered lips with iced water. It was now ten o'clock in the evening. The night was calm and beauti- ful. The tumult of the day was over, but the terrific excitement of the scene had brought the whole population of Paris out into the promenades. Fires * Danton was one of the fiercest of the Jacobins. Madame Roland, a political opponent, thus describes him: "I never saw any countenance that so strongly expressed the violence of brutal passions, and the most astonishing audacity, half disguised by a jovial air, an affectation of frank- ness, and a sort of simplicity, as Danton's. In 1778 he was a needy lawyer, more burdened with debts than causes. He went to Belgium to augment his resources, and, after the 10th of August, had the hardihood to avow a fortune of £ir)8,333 ($791,665), and to wallow in luxury while preaching sans culottism and sleeping on heaps of slaughtered men." "Danton," says Mignet, "was a gigantic revolutionist. He deemed no means censurable so they were useful. He has been termed the Mirabeau of the populace. Mirabeau's vices were those of a patrician. Dan- ton's those of a democrat. He was an absolute exterminator without being personally ferocious ; inexorable toward masses, humane, generous even, toward individuals." — Mifjnet, p. 158. 1792.] THE ROYAL FAMILY IMPRISONED. 291 were still blazing beneath the trees of the Tuileries, consuming the furniture which had been thrown from the windows of the chateau. Lurid flames flashed from the barracks of the Swiss in the court-yard, which had been set on fire, streaming over the roof of the palace, and illuminated both banks of the Seine. The whole number slain during the day. Royalists and Revolutionists, amounted to over four thousand. Many of the dead had been removed by relatives, but the ground was still covered with the bodies of the slain, who were entirely naked, having been stripped of their clothing by those wretches who ever swarm in the streets of a great city, and who find their carnival in deeds of violence and blood. By order of the insurrectional committee at the Hotel de Ville, who had deposed the municipal government and usurped its authority, these dead bodies were collected and piled in vast heaps in the court-yards, in the Garden, in the Place Louis XV., and in the Elysian Fields. Immense quantities of wood were thrown upon them, and the whole city was illuminated by the glare of these funeral fires. The Swiss and the Marsel- lais, the Royalists and the Jacobins, were consumed together, and the ashes were swept clean from the pavement into the Seine. As these scenes at midnight were transpiring in the streets, the Assembly sent a summary of its decrees to be read by torchlight to the groups of the people. It was hoped that these decrees would satisfy them, and put a stop to any farther acts of violence on the morrow. It was two o'clock in the morning before the Assembly suspended its sitting. For seventeen lioure the royal family had sat in the reporters' box, enduring all of humiliation and agony which human hearts can feel. In the upper part of the old monastery, above the committee-rooms of the Assembly, there was a spacious corridor, from which opened several cells formerly iised by the monks. These cells, with walls of stone and floors of brick, and entirely destitute of furniture, were as gloomy as the dungeons of a prison. Here only could the king and his family find safety for the night. Some articles of furniture were hastily collected from differ- ent parts of the building, and four of these rooms were prepared for the royal party. Five nobles, who had heroically adhered to the king in these hours of }3eril, occupied one, where, wrapped in their cloaks and stretched out upon the floor, they could still watch through the night over the mon- arch. The king took the next. It was furnished with a table, and a plain wooden bedstead. He bound a napkin around his head for a night-cap, and threw himself, but partially undressed, upon his uncurtained bed. The queen, with her two children, took the next cell, Madame Elizabeth, with the governess of the children, Madame de Tourzel, and the Princess Lam- balle, who had joined the royal flimily in the evening, took the fourth. Thus, after thirty-six hours of sleeplessness and terror, the royal family were left to such repose as their agitated minds could attain. The sun had long arisen when the queen awoke from her fevered slum- ber. She looked around her for a moment with an expression of anguish, and then, covering her eyes with her hands, exclaimed, " Oh, I hoped that it had all been a dream !" The whole party soon met in the apartment of the king. As Madame 292 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXVIIL Tourzel led in the two rojal children, Marie Antoinette looked at them sadly, and said, " Poor children ! how heart-rending it is, instead of handing down to them so fine an inheritance, to say, it ends with us !" " I still see, in imagination," writes Madame Campan, " and shall always see, that narrow cell of the Feuillans, hung with green paper ; that wretch- ed couch where the dethroned queen stretched out her arms to us, saying that our misfortunes, of which she was the cause, aggravated her own. There, for the last time, I saw the tears, I heard the sobs of her whom her high birth, the endowments of nature, and, above all, the goodness of her heart, had seemed to destine for the ornament of a throne and for the hap- piness of her people." The tumult of the streets still penetrated their cells, and warned them that they had entered upon another day of peril. The excited populace were still hunting out the aristocrats, and killing them pitilessly wherever they could be found. At ten o'clock the royal family were conducted again to the Assembly, probably as the safest place they could occupy, and there they remained all day. Several of the Swiss had been taken prisoners on the previous day, and by humane people had been taken to the Assembly that their lives might be saved. The mob now clamored loudly at the door of the hall, and endeavored to break in, demanding the lives of the Swiss and of the escort of the king, calling them murderers of the people. Yerg- niaud, the president, was so shocked by their ferocity that he exclaimed, " Great God, what cannibals !" At one time the doors were so nearly forced that the royal family were hurried into one of the passages, to conceal them from the mob. The king, fully convinced that the hour of his death had now come, entreated his friends to provide for their safety by flight. Heroically, every one persisted in sharing the fate of the king. Danton hastened to the Assembly, and ex- erted all his rough and rude energy to appease the mob. They were at length pacified by the assurance that the Swiss, and all others who had abetted in the slaughter of the jieople on the preceding day, should be tried by a court-martial and punished. With great difiiculty the Assembly suc- ceeded in removing the Swiss and the escort of the king to the prison of the Abbaye. At the close of this day the king and his family were again conducted to their cells, but they were placed under a strict guard, and their personal friends were no longer permitted to accompany them. This last deprivation was a severe blow to them all, and the king said bitterly, " I am, then, a prisoner, gentlemen. Charles I. was more fortunate than myself. His friends were permitted to accompany him to the scaffold." Another morning dawned upon this unhappy family, and again they were led to the hall of the Assembly, where they passed the weary hours of an- other day in the endurance of all the pangs of martyrdom. It was at length decided that the royal family, for safe keeping, should be imprisoned in the tower of the Temple. This massive, sombre building, in whose gloomy architecture were united the palace, the cloister, the fortress, and the prison, was erected and inhabited by the Knights Templar of the 1792.] THE KOYAL FAMILY IMPRISONED. 293 Middle Ages. Having been long abandoned it was now cnimbling to decay. It was an enormous pile wliich centuries had reared near the site of the Bastille, and with its palace, donjon, towers, and garden, which was choked with weeds and the debris of crumbling walls, covered a space of many acres. THE TEMPIiE. The main tower was one hundred and fifty feet high, nine feet thick at the base, surrounded by a wide, deep ditch, and inclosed by an immensely high wall. This tower was ascended by a very narrow flight of circular stairs, and was divided into four stories, each containing a bare, dismal room about thirty feet square. The iron doors to these rooms were so low and narrow that it was necessary to stoop almost double to enter them. The windows, which were but slits in the thick wall, were darkened by slanting screens placed over them, and were also secured by stout iron bars. Such were the apartments which were now assigned to the former occu- pants of the Tuileries, Versailles, and Fontainebleau. It was a weary ride for the royal captives through the Place Vendome and along the Boulevards to the Temple. An immense crowd lined the road. All the royal family, with Potion, the mayor, occupied one carriage, and the procession moved so slowly that for two hours the victims were exposed to the gaze of the popu- lace before the carriages rolled under the arches of the Temple. It was late 294 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChaP. XXVIII. in the afternoon when they left the Assembly, and the shades of night dark- ened the streets ere they reached the Temple. The Assembly had surrendered the safe-keeping of the king to the Com- mune of Paris, and appropriated one hundred thousand dollars to meet the expenses of the royal family until the king should be brought to trial. Con- scious that an army of nearly two hundred thousand men was within a few days' march of Paris, hastening to rescue the king, and that there were thou- sands of Eoyalists in the city, and tens of thousands in France, who were ready at any moment to lay down their lives to secure the escape of the monarch, and conscious that the escape of the king would not only re-en- slave France, but consign every friend of the Ee volution to the dungeon or the scaffold, they found it necessary to adopt the most effectual measures to hold the king securely. They, therefore, would no longer allow the friends of the king to hold free communication with him. The Temple itself, by outworks, had been promptly converted into a for- tress, and was strongly garrisoned by the National Guard. Twelve com- missioners were without interruption to keep watch of the king's person. No one was allowed to enter the tower of the Temple without permission of the municipality. Four hundred dollars were placed in the hands of the royal family for their petty expenses. They were not intrusted with more, lest it might aid them to escape. A single attendant, the king's faithful valet Clery,* was permitted to accompany the captives. It does not appear that the authorities wished to add unnecessary rigor to the imprisonment. Thirteen cooks were provided for the kitchen, that their table might be abundantly supplied. One of these only was allowed to enter the prison and aid Clery in serving at the table, the expenses of which for two months amounted to nearly six thousand dollars, f It was an hour after midnight when the royal family were led from the apartments of the Temple to which they had first been conducted to their prison in the tower. The night was intensely dark. Dragoons with drawn sabres marched by the side of the king, while municipal officers with lanterns guided their steps. Through gloomy and dilapidated halls, beneath massive turrets, and along the abandoned paths of the garden, encumbered with weeds and stones, they groped their way until they arrived at the portals of the tower, whose summit was lost in the obscurity of night. As in perfect silence the sad procession was passing through the garden, a valet-de-cham- bre of the king inquired in a low tone of voice whither the king was to be conducted. "Thy master," was the reply, "has been used to gilded roofs. Now he will see how the assassins of the people are lodged." The three lower rooms of the tower were assigned to the captives. They had been accompanied by several of their friends who adhered to them in these hours of adversity. All were oppressed with gloom, and many shed * "Clery we have seen and knowii, and the foiin and manncre of that model of pristine faith and loyalty can never be forf^otten. Gentlemanlike and complaisant in his manners, his deep gravity and melancholy features announced that the sad scenes in which he had acted a part so honorable were never for a n)onicut out of his memory." — Scott's Life 0/ Napoleon. + Thiers's Hkt. French llcvolutiou, vol. ii., p. 26. 1792.] THE MASSACRE OF THE ROYALISTS. 295 bitter tear.«?. Still they were not in despair. Powerful armies were march- ing for their rescue, and they thought it not possible that the French people, all unprepared for war, could resist such formidable assailants. A week thus passed away, when on the 19th the municipal officers entered and ordered the immediate expulsion of all not of the royal family. This harsh measure was deemed necessary in consequence of the conspiracies which were formed by the Royalists for the rescue of the king. Unfeeling jailers were now placed over them, and, totally uninformed of all that was passing in the world without, they sank into the extreme of woe. CHAPTER XXIX. THE MASSACRE OF THE ROYALISTS. Supremacy of the Jacobins. — Their energetic Measures. — The Assembly threatened. — Commis- sioners sent to the Army. — Spirit of the Court Party in England.^Speech of Edmund Burke. — Triumphant March of the Allies. — The Nation summoned en masse to resist the Foe. — Mur- der of the Princess Lamballe.— Apology of the Assassins. — Robespierre and St. Just. — Views of Napoleon. The majestic armies of the Allies were now rapidly on the march toward France, and there was no force on the frontiers which could present any ef- fectual resistance. La Fayette was at Sedan, about one hundred and fifty miles northwest of Paris, at the head of twenty thousand troops who were devoted to him. His opposition to the Jacobins had already caused him to be denounced as a traitor, and it was feared that he might go over to the enemy, and by his strong influence carry not only his own troops, but those of General Luckner with him. The condition of the Patriots was apparently desperate. The Allies were confident of a triumphant and a rapid march to Paris, where all who had sacrilegiously laid liands upon the old despotism of France would be visited witii condign punishment. The Jacobin Club was now the sovereign power in France. It was more numerous than the Legislative Assembly, and its speakers, more able and im- passioned, had perfect control of the populace. The Jacobins had, by the in- surrection, or rather revolution, of the 10th of August, organized a new mu- nicipal government. "Whatever measure the Jacobin Club decided to have enforced it sent to the committee which the club had organized as the city gov- ernment at the Hotel de Ville. This committee immediately demanded the passage of the decree by the Legislative Assembly. If the Assembly mani- fested any reluctance in obeying, they were informed that the tocsin would be rung, the populace summoned, and the scenes of the 10th of August renewed, to make them willing. Such was now the new government instituted in France. The Coimmme of Paris, as this municipal body at the Hotel de Ville was called, immediately entered upon the most vigorous measures to break up the conspiracy of the Royalists, that they might not be able to rise and join the invading armies of the Allies. The French Patriots had two foes equally formidable to dread — the emigrants with the Allies marching upon the fron« tiers, composing an army nearly two hundred thousand strong, and the Roy- alists in France, who were readj-, as soon as the AUies entered the kingdom, 296 THE FEENCH KEVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXIX. to raise tlie standard of civil war, and to fall upon tlie Patriots with exterm- inating hand. There was thus left for the leaders of the Kevolution only the choice between killing and being killed. It was clear that they must now either exterminate their foes or be exterminated by them. And it must on all hands be admitted that the king and the court, by refusing to accept constitutional liberty, had brought the nation to this direful alterna- tive. To prevent suspected persons from escaping, no one was allowed to leave the gates of Paris without the most careful scrutiny of his passport. A list was made out of every individual known to be unfriendly to the Eevolu- tion, and all such were placed under the most vigilant surveillance. The citizens were enjoined to denounce all who had taken any part in the slaugh- ter of the citizens on the 10th of August. All writers who had supported the Koyalist cause were ordered to be arrested, and their presses were given to Patriotic writers. Commissioners were sent to the prisons to release all who had been confined for offenses against the court. As it was feared that the army, influenced by La Fayette, might manifest hostility to the revolu- tionary movement in Paris, which had so effectually demolished the Consti- tution, commissioners were sent to enlighten the soldiers and bring them over to the support of the people. It was at first contemplated to assign the palace of the Luxembourg as the retreat of the royal family. The Com- mune of Paris, however, decided that the public safety required that they should be held in custody where escape would be impossible, and that their safe -keeping should be committed to the mayor, Petion, and to Santerre, who had been appointed commander of the National Guards. The Assembly, alarmed at the encroachments of the self-constituted Com- mune of Paris, ordered a re-election of a municipal government to take the place of that which the insurrection had dissolved. The Commune instantly dispatched a committee to inform the Assembly that if they made any far- ther move in that direction the tocsin should again be rung, and that the populace, who had stormed the Tuileries, should be directed against their hall. The deputies, overawed by the threat, left the Commune in undisput- ed possession of its power. The Commune now demanded of the Assembly the appointment of a special tribunal to punish the Eoyalists who had fired upon the people from the Tuileries, and those who "as conspirators and traitors" were ready to join the Allies as soon as they should enter France. The Assembly hesitated. The Commune sent Eobespierre at the head of a deputation to inform them in those emphatic terms which he ever had at his command, that the country was in danger, that the Allies and emigrants were on the march, that no delay could be tolerated, and that if the decree were not immediately passed the tocsin should he rung. The appalling threat was efficient, and the decree, though some heroically opposed, was passed.* Such was the origin of the first revolutionary tribunal. * " As a citizen, as a mapistrate of the people," said one of the deputation, " I come to inform you that at twelve o'clock this niglit the tocsin will be rung and the alarm beaten. The people are weary of not beinR avenged. Beware lest they do themselves justice. I demand that you forthwith decree that a citizen be appointed by each section to form a criminal tribunal." — Thiers^ i., 341. 1792.] THE MASSACRE OF THE ROYALISTS. 297 As soon as the commissioners from Paris arrived at the camp of La Fay- ette they were by his orders arrested and imprisoned, and the soldiers took anew the oath of fidelity to the law and the king. The news of their arrest reached Paris on the 17th, and excited intense irritation. La Fayette was denounced more vehemently than ever, and a fresh deputation was dispatch- ed to the army. La Fayette was now ruined. The coui't was ready to hang him for his devotion to liberty. The Jacobins thirsted for his blood because he thwarted their plans. Every hour his situation became more desperate, and it was soon evident that he could do no more for his country, and that there was no refuge for him but in flight. On the 20th, accompanied by a few friends, he secretly left his army, and took the road to the Netherlands. When he reached the Austrian outposts at Rochefort, he was arrested as a criminal in defiance of all law. With great secrecy he was taken into the interior of Austria, and thrown into a dungeon in the impregnable fortress of Olmutz. Ilis only crime was that he had wished to introduce constitu- 1.K FAYETTE IN PEISON AT OUtfUTZ. tional liberty to his country. This, in the eye of despots, was an unpardon- able sin. Here we must leave him to languish five years in captivity; de- prived of every comfort. Many efforts were made in vain for his release. Washington wrote directly to the Emperor of Austria in his behalf, but without effect. It was not till Napoleon, thundering at the walls of Vienna with his invincible legions, demanded the release of La Fayette, in 1797, that the doors of his dungeon were thrown open.* * " However irritated they mip;ht be by La Fayette's behavior at the outset of the Revolution, the present conduct of the monarchs toward him was neither to be vindicated by morality, th« law of Vol. IL— B 298 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXIX. The Britisti people sympathized deeply with La Fayette, but the British government assailed him with unrelenting ferocity. On the 17th of March, 179-1, Greneral Fitzpatrick moved an address in the House of Commons, to his majesty, requesting his interference with the King of Prussia in behalf of La Fayette. Mr. Fox advocated the measure in a speech of great eloquence and power. Nothing can more clearly show the spirit of the court party in England at this time than the speeches made by them on this occasion. William Pitt assailed La Fayette in the most unfeeling manner, declaring that " he would never admit that La Fayette was a true friend of liberty or deserved well of his country or of Europe." " He said," writes Prof. Smyth, " every thing that it is painful to read — he was rendered insensible on this occasion to all the better notions of his education and natural intuitions of his understanding. There is no pleasure in reading the abstract of his speech. It might have been made by the most vulgar minister that ever appeared. Edmund Burke followed in a speech of unmeasured abuse. In glowing colors he depicted all the scenes of violence which had occurred in France, and, declaring La Fayette responsible for them all, concluded with the words, " I would not debauch my humanity by supporting an application like the present in behalf of such a horrid rufl&an."* Mr. Windham followed in the same strain. He expressed exultation in view of the calamities which had fallen upon this great patriot. "La Fayette," said he, ''has brought himself into that state into which all fomenters of great and ruinous revolu- tions must necessarily fall ; he has betrayed and ruined his country and his king. I am not sorry. I rejoice to see such men drink deep of the cujo of calamity which they have prepared for the lips of others ; and I never will consent to do an act which will put a premium on revolution, and which will give the example of sanction to treason, and of reward to rebellion." Such was the spirit of the court of St. James at this time. These speeches were made after La Fayette had been languishing for two years in the dun- geons of Olmutz, exposed to almost every conceivable indignity, the partic- ulars of which Mr. Fox had aflfectingly narrated. The debate was concluded by ]\Ir. Dundas, who thanked Mr. Windham for his admirable speech. When the vote was taken but fifty were found in sympathy with La Fayette, while one hundred and thirty-two voted against him. The two sovereigns of Prussia and Austria were now at Ma3'-ence. Sixty thousand Prussians were marching in single column by Luxemburg upon Longwy, flanked on the right by twenty thousand Austrians, and on the left by twenty-six thousand Austrians and Hessians. This majestic force was strengthened by several co-operating corps of French emigrants, destined to attack exposed positions, and to afford rallying points for treason. The in- nations, nor the rules of sound policy. Even if he had been amenable for a crime afjainst his own country, we know not what right Austria or Prussia had to take cognizance of \t."—ScoWs Life of Ntipohon. * " Such were the reasonings and expressions of Mr. Burke on this striking occasion. So en- tirely was the mind of this extraordinary man now over excited and overthrown ; so entirely es- tranged from those elevated feelings and that spirit of philanthropic wisdom which have made his speeches in the American contest, and many paragrajjhs of his Reflections on this Revolution of France, so justly the admiration of mankind." — Prof. Smith's Lectures on the French Revolution, vol. ii., p. 409. 1792.] THE MASSACRE OF THE ROYALISTS. 299 vaders crossed the frontiers unimpeded, and after a short and bloody strife captured Longwy. Onward they rushed. The feeble, undisciplined patriots, could make no resistance, and fled rapidly before them. Thionville and Verdun were surrounded, and after a short but terrific storm of balls and shells capitulated. There were many Royalists in each of these towns, and they received the invaders with every demonstration of joy. Their daugh- ters in congratulatory procession met the King of Prussia at the gates and strewed his path with flowers. The garrison of Verdun might have held out for several days, though they would have eventually been compelled to surrender. General Beaurepaire urged very strenuously that they should maintain the siege to the last pos- sible moment. But the defensive council of the city, with whom rested the decision, voted an immediate capitulation. "Gentlemen," said Beaurepaire, "I have sworn never to surrender but wath my life. You may live in disgrace, since you wish it ; but as for me, faithful to my oath, behold my last words: I die freer Immediately he discharged a pistol-shot through his brain, and fell dead before them. The Convention decreed to him the honors of the Pantheon, and granted a pension to his widow. 8UICIDE OF BKACKEPAIEE. The victorious allies, having surmounted these first obstacles, now plunged into the defiles of the Argonne, and in fierce and bloody assaults drove be- fore them the troops of Damourie/5, who had hoped in these forest-encum- bered passes to present effectual resistance to the foe. The invaders were 300 THE FRENCH EEVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXIX. now triumpliantly marcliing on the "high-road to Paris, and fugitives were continually arriving in the metropolis, declaring that the army of the north was destroyed, and that there was no longer any obstacle to the advance of the enemy. No language can describe the consternation which pervaded the capital. The exultation in the enemy's camp was immense. The "cob- lers and tailors," as the emigrants contemptuously called the Patriots, were running away, it was said, like sheep.* As each day brought tidings of the fearful strides which the Allies were making toward the capital, indescribable terror was enkindled. The Con- stitutionalists and the Girondists were utterly paralyzed. But the leaders of the Jacobins — Dan ton, Eobespierre, and Marat — resolved that, if they were to perish, their Eoyalist enemies should perish with them. It was known that the Koyalists intended, as soon as the Allies should be in Paris, to rise, liberate the king, and with the immense moral force they would attain by having the king at their head, join the invaders. Nothing would then re- main for the Revolutionists but exile, death, and the dungeon.f It was now with them but a desperate struggle for life. They must either destroy or be destroyed. The first great peril to be apprehended was the rising of the Royalists in Paris. The barriers were immediately ordered to be closed, and guard-boats were stationed on the river that no one might escape. At the beat of the drum every individual was enjoined to repair to his home. Commissioners then, accompanied by an armed force, visited every dwelling. Party lines were so distinctly drawn that the Royalists could not easily escape detection. At the knock of the commissioners they held their breath with terror. Many attempted concealment in chimneys, in cellar-vaults, beneath the floors, and in recesses covered by pictures of tapestry. But workmen, accustomed to all such arts, accompanied the com- missioners. Chimneys were smoked, doors burst open, and cellars, floors, and walls sounded. In one short night five thousand suspected persons were torn from their homes and dragged to prison. Every man was deemed guilty who could not prove his devotion to the popular cause.:}: * Jean Debry, in the Assembly, exclaimed with fervor, "The most instant and vifrorous meas- ures must be adopted in defense of our country. The expense must not be thoufijht of. "Within fifteen days we shall enjoy freedom or meet with death. If we are conquered we shall have no need of money, for we shall not exist. If we are victorious, still we shall not feel the want of money, for we shall ha free." — Journal of John Moore, M. Z>., vol. i., p. 116. t "The intelligence of the flight of La Fayette, the entry of the army of the coalition into the French territory, the capture of Longwy, and the surrender of Verdun burst like thunder in Paris, and filled every heart with consternation, for France had never approached more nearly those sinister days which presage the decay of nations. Every thing was dead in her save the desire of living ; the enthusiasm of the country and liberty survived. Abandoned by all, the country did not abandon itself. Two things were required to save it — time and a dictatorship. Time? The heroism of Dumouriez afforded it. The dictatorship? Danton assumed it in the name of the Commune of Paris." — Lamartine, Hist. Gir., vol, ii., p. 119. t Dr. John Moore, a very intelligent English physician, who, in company with Lord Lauder- dale, was in Paris during all these scenes, writes in his journal, " This search was made accord- ingly in the course of last night and this morning. The commissioners were attended with a body of the National Guards, and all avenues of the section were watched to prevent any persons from escaping. They did not come to our hotel till about six in the morning. I attended them through every room, and opened every door of our a])artments. They behaved with great civility. We had no arms but pistols, which lay openly on the chimney. They admired the nicety of the workmanship of one pair, but never offered to take them." — Vol. i.,p. 116. 3^792.1 THE MASSACRE OF THE ROYALISTS. 301 Still the enemy was approaching. " In three days," rumor said, " the Prussians will be in Paris." The whole city was in a state of phrensy, and ready for any deed of desperation which could rescue them from their peril. Danton entered the Assembly and ascended the tribune with palHd face and compressed lips. Silence, as of the grave, awaited his utterance. "The enemy," said he, "threatens the kingdom, and the Assembly must prove itself worthy of the nation. It is by a convulsion that we have over- thrown despotism ; it is only by another vast national convulsion that we shall drive back the despots. It is time to urge the people to precipitate themselves en masse against their enemies. The French nation wills to be free, and it shall be." There was lurking beneath these words a terrible significance then little dreamed of. Jacobins and Girondists were now united by the pressure of a common and a terrible danger. A decree was immediately passed for every citizen in Paris capable of bearing arms to repair to the Field of Mars, there to be enrolled to march to repel the Allies. It was the morning of the Sab- bath. The generale was beat, the tocsin rung, alarm-guns fired, and placards upon the walls, and the voice of pubhc criers, summoned every able-bodied man to the appointed rendezvous. The philosophic Vergniaud, in a word, explained to Paris the necessity and the efficacy of the measure.* " The plan of the enemy," said he, " is to march directly to the capital, leaving the fortresses behind him. Let him do so. This course will be our salvation and his ruin. Our armies, too weak to withstand him, will be strong enough to harass him in the rear. When he arrives, pursued by our battalions, he will find himself face to face with our Parisian army drawn up in battle array under the walls of the capital. There, surrounded on all sides, he will be swallowed up by the soil which he has profaned." In the midst of the uproar of the multitudes surging through the streets, as the bells were ringing, drums beating, and the armed citizens hurrying to the Field of Mars, the rumor was widely circulated that the Eoyalists had formed a conspiracy to strike down their jailers, break from their prisons, hberate the king, take possession of the city, rally all their confederates around them, and thus throw open the gates of Paris to the Prussians. It was mani- fest to all that, in the confusion which then reigned, and when the thunders of the Prussian and Austrian batteries were hourly expected to be heard from the heights of Montmartre, this was far from an impracticable plan. It was certain that the Royalists would attempt it, whether they had already formed such a plan or not. It is, however, probable that shrewd men, foreseeing this peril, had deliber- ately resolved to hurl the mob of Paris upon the prisons for the assassmation * " The people are told that there was a horrid plot between the Duke of Brunswick and cer- tain traitors in Paris ; that as soon as all the new levies were completed, and all the men intend- ed for the frontiers had marched out of Paris, then those same traitors were to take command of a large body of men, now dispersed over the capital and its environs, who have been long in the pay of the court, though they also are concealed ; that these concealed leaders at the head of their concealed troops were to have thrown open the prisons and to arm the prisoners, then to go to the Temple, set the royal family free, and proclaim the king ; to condemn to death all the Patriots who remain in Paris, and most of the wives and children of those who have marched oat of it against the enemies of their country." — Moore's Journal, vol. i., p. 144. 302 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXIX. of all the Eoyalists, before emptying the city of its defenders to march to meet the foe. While the bewildered masses were in this state of terrific ex- citement, six hackney-coaches left the Hotel de Ville, conducting twenty- four Royalist priests, who had refused to take the oath, to the prisons of the Abbaye. The people crowding around and following the carriages began to murmur, " Here are the traitors," said they, " who intend to murder our wives and children while we are on the frontiers." The first carriage reached the door of the jDrison. One priest alighted. He was instantly seized, and fell pierced by a thousand poniards. It was the signal for the slaughter of the whole. The murderers fell upon every carriage, and in a few moments all but one, who miraculously escaped, were slain. This hideous massacre roused the populace as the tiger is roused when he has once lapped his tongue in blood. The cry was raised, " To the Carmelites, to the Carmelites." In this prison two hundred priests were con- fined. The mob broke in and butchered them all. BUTOHEKY AT THE fARMEMTES. A man by the name of Maillard headed this mob, which consisted of but a few hundred men. Having finished the work at the Carmelites and gorged themselves with wine, Maillard exclaimed, "Now to the Abbaye." The blood-stained crew rushed after him through the streets, and dashed in the doors of the prison. The Abbaye was filled with debtors and ordinary con- victs as well as suspected aristocrats. As the mob rushed into the corridor one of the jailers mounted a stool, and, addressing the assassins, said, " My friends, you wish to destroy the aristocrats, who are the enemies of the peo- ple, and who meant to murder your wives and children while you were at the frontiers. You are right no doubt ; but you are good citizens ; you love justice ; and you would be very sorry to steep your hands in innocent blood." "Yes, certainly," one of the leaders replied. "Well, then," continued the jailer, "when you are rushing like furious tigers upon men who are strangers to you, are you not liable to confound the innocent with the guilty V" 1792.J THE iLiSSACRE OF THE ROYALISTS. 303 These thoughts seemed to impress them, and it was immediately decided that Maillard should judge each prisoner, lie took his seat at a table ; the prison list was placed in his hands, and the prisoners, one by one, were brought before his prompt and terrible tribunal. It was agreed, in order to spare unnecessary sullcrmg, that when the judge should say, "Sir, you must go to the prison of La Force," as soon as the prisoner was led out into the court-yard he should be cut down. A Swiss officer was tirst brought forward. " It was you," said Maillard, " w^ho murdered the people on the 10th of August." "We were attacked," the unfortunate man replied, "and only obe3'ed our superior officers." "Very well," said Maillard, " we must send j-ou to the prison of La Force." He was led into the court-yard and instantly slain. Every Swiss soldier in the prison met the same fate. Thus the work went on with terrible ex- pedition until one hundred and eighty were put to death. All the women were left unharmed. Many who were brought before the tribunal were ac- quitted, and the crowd manifested great joy in rescuing them as their friends. Amid these horrid scenes there were some gleams of humanity. The Gov- ernor of the Invalides was doomed to death. His daughter clasped her father in her arms and clung to him so despairingly that the hearts of the assassins were melted. One, in a strange freak, presented her with a cup of blood, saying, "If you would save your father drink this blood of an aristo- crat." She seized the cup and drained it. Shouts of applause greeted the act, and her father was saved.* All the night long these horrid scenes were continued. Every prison in Paris witnessed the same massacres, accompanied with every conceivable variety of horrors. The unfortunate Princess Lamballe, bosom friend of Marie Antoinette, was confined in the prison of La Force. She w^as brought before the revo- lutionary judge, and after a brief interrogation she was ordered to "swear to love liberty and equality ; to swear to hate the king, the queen, and roy- alty." " I will take the first oath," the princess replied ; *Hhe second I can not take ; it is not in my heart." One of the judges, wishing to save her, whispered in her ear, " Swear every thing or you are lost." But the un- happy princess was now utterly bewildered with terror, and could neither see nor hear. Her youth and beauty touched the hearts even of many of these brutal men. They desired her rescue, and endeavored to lead her safely through the crowd. Cry out, said the}^, 'long live the nation,' and you will not be harmed. But as she beheld the pavement strewn with corpses of the slain, she could not utter a word. Her silence was taken for defiance. A sabre blow struck her down. The murderers fell upon her like famished wolves upon a lamb. Her body was cut into fragments, and a band of wretches, with her head and heart upon pikes, shouted " Let us camj them to the foot of the throne.'''' They rushed through the streets to the * " Some inexplicable and consolatory acts astonish us amid those horrors. The compassion of Maillard appeared to seek for the innocent with as much care as his venpeance soupht for the guilty. He exposed his life to snatch victims from his executions," — Lamartine, History of the Girondists, vol. ii., p. 140. 304 THE FKENCH KEVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXIX. Temple, and shouted for the king and queen to look out at the windows. A humane officer, to shield them from the awful sight, informed them of the horrors which were transpiring. The queen fainted. As the king and Mad- ame Elizabeth bent over her, for hours they were appalled by the clamor of the rabble around the walls of the Temple. At last the prisons were emptied, and the murderers themselves became weary of blood. It is impossible to ascertain the numbers who perished. The estimate varies from six to twelve thousand. The Commune of Paris, which was but the servant of the Jacobin Club, issued orders that no more blood should be shed. Assuming that the assassination was demanded by the public danger, and that the wretches who had perpetrated it had per- formed a patriotic though a painful duty, they rewarded them for their work. Nothing can more clearly show the terrible excitation of the public mind, produced by a sense of impending danger, than that a circular should have been addressed to all the communes of France, giving an account of the mas- sacre as a necessary and a praiseworthy deed. In this extraordinary me- morial, signed by the Administrators of the Committee of Surveillance, the writers say, " Brethren and Friends, — A horrid plot, hatched by the court, to mur- der all the Patriots of the French empire, a plot in which a great number of members of the National Assembly are implicated, having, on the ninth of last month, reduced the Commune of Paris to the cruel necessity of em- ploying the power of the people to save the nation, it has not neglected any thing to deserve well of the country. " Apprised that barbarous hordes are advancing against it, the Commune of Paris hastens to inform its brethren in all the departments that part of the ferocious conspirators confined in the prisons have been put to death by the people — acts of justice which appear to it indispensable for repressing by terror the legions of traitors encompassed by its walls, at the moment when the people were about to march against the enemy ; and no doubt the nation, after the long series of treasons which have brought it to the brink of the abyss, will eagerly adopt this useful and necessary expedient ; and all the French will say, like the Parisians, ' We are marching against the enemy, and we will not leave behind us brigands to murder our wives and children.' " The instigators of these atrocious deeds defended the measure as one of absolute necessity. " We must all go," it was said, " to fight the Prussians, and we can not leave these foes behind us, to rise and take the city and as- sail us in the rear." " If they had been allowed to live," others said, "in a few days we should have been murdered. It was strictly an act of self-de- fense." Danton ever avowed his approval of the measure, and said, " I looked my crime steadfastly in the face and I did it." Marat is reproached as having contributed to the deed.* Eobespierre appears to have given his * M. Chabot, a patriotic orator, who had been a Franciscan friar, spoke in the Society of Jac- obins as follows of Marat: "Marat is reproached with being of a sanguinary disposition; that he contributed to the late massacres iu the prisons. But in so doing he acted iu the true spirit 1792.] THE ALVSSACRE OF THE ROYALISTS. 305 assent to the massacre with reluctance, but it is in evidence that he walked his chamber through the whole night in agony, unable to sleep. At eleven o'clock at night of this 2d of September Eobespierre and St. Just retired together from the Jacobin Club to the room of the latter. St. Just threw himself upon the bed for sleep. Eobespierre exclaimed in aston- ishment, " What, can you think of sleeping on such a night ? Do you not hear the tocsin? Do you not know that this night will be the last to perhaps thousands of our fellow-creatures, who are men at the moment you fall asleep, and when you awake will be lifeless corpses?" "I know it," replied St. Just, "and deplore it; and I wish that I could moderate the convulsions of society; but what am I?" then, turning in his bed, he fell asleep. In the morning, as he awoke, he saw Eobespierre pac- ing the chamber with hasty steps, occasionally stopping to look out of the window, and listening to the noises in the streets. " What, have you not slept?" asked St. Just. " Sleep !" cried Eobespierre ; " sleep while hundreds of assassins murdered thousands of victims, and their pure or impure blood runs like water down the streets ! Oh no ! I have not slept. I have watched like remorse or crime. I have had the weakness not to close my eyes, but Dantoii, he has Paris was at this time in a state of such universal consternation, the gov- ernment so disorganized, and the outbreak so sudden and so speedy in its execution, that the Legislative Assembly, which was not in sympathy with the mob, and which was already overawed, ventured upon no measures of resistance.f But there can be no excuse offered in palliation of such crimes. Language is too feeble to express the horror with which they ever must be regarded by every generous soul. But while we consign to the deepest infamy the assassins of September, to equal infamy let those despots be consigned who, in the fierce endeavor to rivet the chains of slavery anew upon twenty-five millions of freemen, goaded a nation to such hideous madness. The allied despots of Europe roused the people to a phrensj'- of despair, and thus drove them to the deed. Let it never be forgotten that it was despotism, not liberty, which planted the tree which bore this fruit. If the government of a coun- try be such that there is no means of redress for the oppressed people but in of the Revolution, for it was not to be expected that while our bravest patriots were on the front- iers we should remain here exposed to the rape of the prisoners, who were jiromised arms and the opportunity of assassinating us. It is well known that the plan of the aristocrats has always been, and still is, to make a general carnage of the common people. Now, as the number of the latter is to that of the former in the proportion of ninety-nine to one, it is evident that he who pro- poses to kill one to prevent the killing of ninety-nine is not a blood-thirsty man." * Lamartine, Ilistori/ oflhe Girondists, ii., 132. t Dr. Moore, while denouncing in the strongest terms the bnitality of the populace, says, "In such an abominable system of oppression as the French labored under before the Revolution, when the will of one man could control the course of law, and his mandate tear any citizen from the arms of his family and throw him into a dungeon for years or for life — in a country where such a system of government prevails, insurrection, being the sole means of redress, is not only justifi- able, but it is the duty of every lover of mankind and of his country, as soon as any occasion pre- sents itself which promises success." u 306 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXIX. the horrors of insurrection, that country must bide its doom, for, sooner or later, an outraged people will rise. While, therefore, we contemplate with hor- ror the outrages committed by the insurgent people, with still greater horror must we contemplate the outrages perpetrated by proud oppressors during long ages, con.signing the people to ignorance and degradation. They who hrutalize a people should be the last to complain that, w^hen these people rise in the terribleness of their might, they behave like brutes. There is no safety for any nation but in the education, piety, and liberty of its masses."^ The Duke of Brunswick, urging resistlessly on his solid columns, batter- ing down fortresses, plunging through defiles, anticipated no check. But on the 20th of September, to his great surprise, he encountered a formidable army intrenched upon the heights of Yalmy, near Chalons, apparently pre- pared for firm resistance. Here Dumouriez, with much military skill, had rallied his retreating troops. All France had been roused and was rushing eagerly to his support. Paris, no longer fearing a rise of the Royalists, was dispatching several thousand thoroughly-armed men from the gates every day to strenghthen the camp at Valmy, which was hardly a hundred miles from Paris. Dumouriez, when first assailed, had less than forty thousand troops in his intrenchments, but the number rapidly increased to over seven- ty thousand. These were nearly all inexperienced soldiers, but they were inspired with intense enthusiasm, all struggling for national independence, and many con- scious that defeat would but conduct them to the scaffold. Macdonald,f who afterward so gloriously led the columns at Wagram, and Kellerman, who subsequently headed the decisive charge at Marengo, were aids of Du- mouriez. Louis Philippe also, then the Duke of Chartres and eldest son of the Duke of Orleans, signalized himself on the patriot side at the stern strife of Valmy. The Duke of Brunswick brought forward his batteries and commenced a terrific cannonade. Column after column was urged against the redoubts. But the young soldiers of France, shouting Vive la Nation, bravely repulsed every assault. The Prussians, to their inexpressible chagrin, found it im- possible to advance a step. Here the storm of battle raged with almost in- cessant fury for twenty days. The French were hurrying from all quarters to the field ; the supplies of the invaders were cut off; dysentery broke out in their camp ; autunmal rains drenched them ; winter was approaching ; and * " Amid the disorders and sad events which have taken place in this country of late, it is impos- sible not to admire the generous spirit which glows all over the nation in support of its independ- ency. No country ever displayed a nobler or more patriotic enthusiasm than pervades France at this period, and which glows with increasing ardor since the publication of the Duke of Bruns- wick's manifesto, and the entrance of the Prussians into the country. None but those whose minds are obscured by prejudice or per^'crted by selfishness will refuse this justice to the general spirit displayed by the French in defense of their national independence. A detestation of the excesses committed at Paris, not only is compatible with an admiration of this spirit, but it is such well-informed minds alone as possess sufficient candor and sensibility to admire the one, who can have a due horror of the other." — Journal of John Moore, M.D.,vo]. i., p. IfiO. t "The young Macdonald, descended from a Scotch family transplanted to France, was aid- de-camp to Dumouriez. He learned at the camp of Grandpre, under his commander, how to save a country. Subsequently he learned, under Napoleon, how to illustrate it. A hero at his first step, he became a marshal of Fraoce at the end of his Vde."—Lamartine, Bist. Gir., U., 168, 1792.] THE MASSACRE OF THE ROYALISTS. 307 they were compelled, in discomfiture and humiliation, to turn upon their track and retire. On the 15th of October the Allies abandoned their camp and commenced a retreat. They retired in good order, and rccrossed the frontier, leaving behind them twenty -five thousand, who had perished by sickness, the bullet, and the sword. Dumouriez did not pursue them with much vigor, for the army of the Allies was infinitely superior in discipline to the raw troops un- der his command. Winter was now at hand, during which no external attack upon France was to be feared. All government was disorganized, and the question which agitated every heart was, " What shall be done with the king?" The Duke of Chartres, subsequently Louis Philippe, King of the French, then a young man but seventeen years of age, after vigorously co-operating with Dumouriez in repelling the invaders, returned to Paris. lie presented himself at the audience of Servan, Minister of War, to complain of some in- justice. Danton was present, and, taking the young duke aside, said to him, "What do you do here? Servan is but the shadow of a minister. He can neither help nor harm you. Call on me to-morrow and I will arrange your business." The next day Danton, the powerful plebeian, received the young patrician with an air of much affected superiority. " Well, young man," said he, " I am informed that your language resembles murmurs ; that you blame the great measures of government ; that you express compassion for the victims and hatred for the executioners. Beware ; patriotism docs not admit of lukewarmness, and you have to obtain pardon for your great name." The young prince boldly replied, " The army looks with horror on blood- shed any w^here but on the battle-field. The massacres of September seem in their eyes to dishonor liberty," " You are too young," Danton replied, " to judge of these events; to com- prehend these you must be in our place. For the future be silent, lieturn to the army; fight bravely; but do not rashly expose j^our life. France does not love a republic ; she has the habits, the weaknesses, the need of a monarchy. After our storms she will return to it, either through her vices or necessities, and you will be king. Adieu, young man. Eemember the prediction of Danton."* In reference to these scenes Napoleon remarked at St. Helena, on the 3d of September, 1816, " To-day is the anniversary of a hideous remembrance ; of the massacres of September, the St. Bartholomew of the French Revolution. The atrocities of the 8d of September were not committed under the sanc- tion of government, which, on the contrary, used its endeavors to punish the crime. The massacres were committed by the mob of Paris, and were the result of fanaticism rather than of absolute brutality. The Scptembriseurs did not pillage, they only wished to murder. They even hanged one of their own party for having appropriated a watch which belonged to one of their victims. " This dreadful event arose out of the force of circumstances and the spirit of the moment. We must acknowledge that there has been no political * History- of the Girondists, by Laraartine, ii., 185, 308 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXX change unattended by popular fury, as soon as tlie masses enter into action. The Prussian army had arrived within one hundred miles of Paris. The famous manifesto of the Duke of Brunswick was placarded on all the walls of the city. The people had persuaded themselves that the death of all the Eoyalists in Paris was indispensable to the safety of the Eevolution. They ran to the prisons and intoxicated themselves with blood, shouting Vive la Bevolution. Their energy had an electric effect, from the fear with which it inspired one party, and the example which it gave to the other. One hund- red thousand volunteers joined the army, and the Eevolution was saved. "I might have preserved my crown by turning loose the masses of the people against the advocates of the restoration. You well recollect, Mon- tholon, when, at the head of your fauhouriens, you wished to punish the treachery of Fouche and proclaim my dictatorship. I did not choose to do so. My whole soul revolted at the thought of being king of another mob. As a general rule no social revolution can take place without terror. Every revolution is in principle a revolt, which time and success ennoble and ren- der legal, but of which terror has been one of the inevitable phases. How, indeed, can we say to those who possess fortune and public situations, ' Be- gone and leave us your fortunes and your situations,'' without first intimidating them, and rendering any defense impossible. In France this point was ef- fected by the lantern and the guillotine."* CHAPTEE XXX. THE KING LED TO TRIAL. Assa-ssination of Royalists at Versailles. — Jacobin Ascendency. — The National Convention. — Two Parties, the Girondists and the Jacobins. — Abolition of Royalty. — Madame Roland. — Battle of Jemappes. — Mode of life in the Temple. — Insults to the Royal Family. — New Acts of Rigor. — Trial of the King. — Separation of the Royal Family. — The Indictment. — The King begs for Bread. The massacre of the Eoyalists in Paris was not followed by any general violence throughout the kingdom, for it was in Paris alone that the Patriots were in imminent danger. In Orleans, however, there were a number of Eoyalists imprisoned under the accusation of treason. These prisoners were brought to Versailles on the night of the 9th of September to be tried. A band of assassins from Paris rushed upon the carriages, dispersed the escort, and most brutally murdered forty -seven out of fifty-three, f They then went to the prison, where twelve were taken out, and, after a summary trial, as- sassinated. In the mean time elections were going on for the National Convention. The Jacobin Clubs, now generally dominant throughout France, almost ev- ery where controlled the elections. Some sober Patriots hoped that the Con- vention would be disposed and able to check the swelling flood of anarchy. But others, when they saw that the most violent Eevolutionists were chosen as deputies, and that they would be able to overawe the more moderate Patriots by the terrors of the mob, began to despair of their country. Paris * Napoleon at St. Helena, 394. t Peltier. , THE KING LED TO TRIAL. 309 sent to the Convention Eobespierre, Danton, Marat, Chabot, and others ^vlK> have attained terrible notoriety through scenes of eonsternation and blood. The Girondists in the Convention, Vergniaud, Condorce, Barbaroux, Gen- sonn4 though much in the minority, were heroic men, illustrious m intelli- gence and virtue. There was no longer a Royalist party, not even a Con- ftitutional Koyahst party, which dared to avow itself in i ranee. The court and the Allies had driven France to the absolute necessity of a Republic. On the 20th of September the Legislative Assembly was dissolved, and at the same hour and in the same hall the National Convention commenced its session. The spirit of the Girondists may be seen in their first mot on. "Citizen representatives," said M. Manuel, "in this place every thing ought to be stamped with a character of such dignity and grandeur as to fill the world with awe. I propose that the President of the Assembly be lodged n trTuileries, that in public he shall be preceded by ^ards, that the mem. bei shall rise when he opens the Assembly. Cineas the embassador of Pyrrhus, on being introduced to the Roman senate, said that they appeared like an assembly of kings." , ., t i,- . r.,! This proposition was contemptuously voted down by the Jacobms. Col- lot d-Uerbois, one of the leading Jacobins, then proposed the immediate abolition of royalty. " The word king," said he, "is still a talisman, whose magic power ma/create many disorders. The abolition of royalty there- S is necessary. Kings are in the moral world that which monsters are in the natural. Courts are always the centre of corruption and the work-houses of crime," No one ventured to oppose this, and tlie president clcclared that by a unanimous vote royalty was aholished. It was then voted the 22d of Sep- tember 1792, should be considered the first day of the first year of the Re- public, 'and that all documents should follow the date of this era It was on the eve of this day that intelligence arrived of the cannonade of \ almy, m which the Patriot armies had beaten back the foe. For one short night Paris was radiant with joy. ■ • r\ ^ ^c The most illustrious of the Girondists met that evening m the saloon of Madame Roland, and celebrated, with almost religious enthusiasm the advent of the Republic. Madame Roland, in the accomplishment of the most in- tense desire of her heart, appeared radiant with almost supernatural bril- iance and beauty. It was observed that M. Roland gazed upon her with a peculiai expression of fondness. The noble and gifted Vergniaud conversed but little, and pensive thoughts seemed to chasten his joy. At the close of the entertainment he filled his glass, and proposed to drink to the eternitv of the Republic. "Permit me," said Madame Roland, "after the manner of the ancients, to scatter some rose-leaves from my bouquet m your glass." Vergniaud held out his glass, and some leaves were sea tt^ed on the wme. He thfn said, in words strongly prophetic of their fate, "We sboukl qu ff, not roses, but cypress-leaves, in our wine to-night. In drinking to a repub- hc stained at it^birth with the blood of September, who knows tha we do not drink to our own death ? No matter ; were this wme my blood I would drain it to liberty and equality." 310 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXX. To this all responded witli the words Vive la Repuhlique. But a few months elapsed ere almost every individual then present perished on the scaffold In the mean time Dumouriez, with thirty-five thousand men was pursumg a division of the retreating Allies, consisting of twenty -five thousand Aus- trians, under General Clairfayt, through Belgium On the 4th of November he overtook them strongly intrenched upon the heights of Jemappes. One m>^^i^^r'i ~\ ^^ 1792.] THE KING LED TO TRIAL. 311 day was consumed in bringing up bis forces and arranging bis batteries for tbe assault. Sixty tbousand men were now arrayed for a deadly strife. One bundred pieces of cannon were in battery to burl into tbe dense ranks destruction and deatb. On tbe morning of tbe 6tb tbe storm of war com- menced. All tbe day long it raged witb pitiless fury. In tbe evening ten tbousand of tbe dying and tbe dead covered tbe ground, and tbe Aus- trians were every wbere retreating in dismay. Tbis new victory caused great rejoicing in Paris, and inspired tbe revolutionary party witb new courage. — Tbe day at lengtb arrived for tbe trial of tbe king. It was tbe 11 tb of December. For four montbs the royal family, witb ever-alternating bopes and fears, wbicb bad been gradually deepening into despair, bad now en- dured tbe rigors of captivity. Tbe king, witb tbat wonderful equanimity wbicb distinguisbed bim tbrougb all tbese days of trial, immediately upon taking possession of bis gloomy abode introduced system into tbe employ- ment of bis time. Ilis room was on tbe tbird story. He usually rose at six o'clock, sbaved bimself, and carefully dressed bis bair. He tben entered a small room or closet, wbicb opened from bis sleeping- room, and engaged in devotional reading and prayer for an bour. He was not allowed to close tbe door, for a municipal officer ever stationed in bis room was enjoined never to allow tbe king to leave bis sigbt. He tben read till nine o'clock, during wbicb time bis faitbful servant, Clery, put tbe room in order, and spread tbe table for tbe breakfast of tbe royal family. At nine o'clock tbe queen, tbe chil- dren, and Madame Elizabeth came up from the rooms which they occupied below to breakfast. The meal occupied an bour. Tbe royal family then all descended to tbe queen's room, where they passed the day. The king employed bimself in instructing his son, giving him lessons in geography, which was a favorite study of the king ; teaching him to draw and color maps, and to recite choice passages from Corneille and Eacine. The queen assumed the education of her daughter, while her own hands and those of Madame Elizabeth were busy in needle-work, knitting, and working tapestry. At one o'clock, when the weather was fine, the roval family were con- ducted by four municipal officers into the spacious but dilapidated garden for exercise and the open air. The officials who guarded tbe king were fre- quently changed. Sometimes they chanced to be men of humane character who, though devoted to the disinthrallment of France from tbe terrible des- potism of ages, still pitied tbe king as tbe victim of circumstances, and treat- ed bim with kindness and respect. But more generally these men were vulgar and rabid Jacobins, who exulted in tbe opportunity of wreaking upon tbe king tbe meanest revenge. They chalked upon tbe walls of tbe prison, " The guillotine is permanent and ready for the tyrant Louis." *' Madame Veto shall swing." " The little wolves must be strangled." Under a gal- lows, to which a figure was suspended, was inscribed tbe words, "Louis taking an air-bath." From such ribald insults the monarch bad no protection. A burly brutal wretch, named Rocher, was one of tbe keepers of tbe Tower. He went swaggering about with a bunch of enormous keys clattering at bis 312 THE FEENCH REVOLUTION. , ■ ,11' l.Mllltllll!i|,|irffl^I!^|l,^v..^\\\. [Chap. XXX. LOUTB SVI. AND THE ROVAL FAMILY IN TIIK TEMPLE. belt, seeming to glory in his power of annoying, by petty insults, a king and a queen. When the royal family were going out into the garden he would go before them to unlock the doors. Making a great demonstration in rat- tling his keys, and affecting much difficulty in finding the right one, all the party would be kept waiting while he made all possible delay and noise in drawing the bolts and swinging open the ponderous doors. At the side of the last door he not unfrequently stationed himself with his pipe in his mouth, and pufted tobacco-smoke into the faces of the king, the queen, and the children. Some of the guards stationed around would burst into insult- ing laughter in view of these indignities, which the king endured with meek- ness which seems supernatural. The recital of such conduct makes the blood boil in one's veins, and leads one almost to detest the very name of liberty. But then we must not for- get that it was despotism which formed these hideous characters ; that, age after age and century after century, kings and nobles had been trampling upon the people, crushing their rights, lacerating their heart-strings, doom- ing fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, by millions upon millions, to beggary, degradation, and woe. It was time for the people to rise at every hazard and break these chains. And while humanity must weep over the 1792.] THE KING LED TO TRIAL. 313 woes of Louis XVI. and his unhappy household, humanity can not forget that there are other families and other hearts who claim her sympathies, and that this very Louis XVI. was at this very time doing every thing in his power, by the aid of the armies of foreign despots, to bring the millions of France again under the sway of the most merciless despotism. And it can not be questioned that, had kings and nobles regained their power, they would have wreaked a more terrible vengeance upon the re-enslaved people than the people wreaked upon them. For an hour the royal family continued walking in the garden. From the roofs of the adjacent houses and the higher windows they could be seen. Every day at noon these roofs and windows were crowded by those anxious to obtain a view of the melancholy group of captives. Frequently they were cheered by gestures of affection from unknown friends. Tender words were occasionally unrolled in capital letters, or a flower to which a pebble was attached would fall at their feet. These tokens of love, slight as they were, came as a balm to their lacerated hearts. So highly did they prize them, that regardless of rain, cold, and snow, and the intolerable insults of their guards, they looked forward daily with eagerness to their garden walk. They recognized particular localities as belonging to their friends, saying, " such a house is devoted to us ; such a story is for us ; such a room is loyal ; such a window friendly." At two o'clock the royal family returned to the king's room, where din ner was served. After dinner the king took a nap, while the queen, Mad- ame Elizabeth, and the young princess employed themselves with their needles, and the dauphin played some game with Clery, whose name should be transmitted with honor to posterity as faithful in misfortune. When the king awoke from his nap he usually read aloud to his family for an hour or two until supper-time. Soon after supper, the queen, with her children and Madame Elizabeth, retired to their rooms for the night. With hearts bound together by these terrible griefs, they never parted but with a tender and sorrowful adieu.* Such was the monotonous life of the royal family during the four months they occupied the Temple before the trial of the king. But almost every day of their captivity some new act of rigor was enforced upon them. As the armies of the Allies drew nearer, and city after city was falling before their bombardments, and Paris was in a phrensy of terror, apprehensions of a conspiracy of the king with the Royalists, and of their rising and aiding the invaders with an outburst of civil war, led to the adoption of precautions most irksome to the captives. Municipal officers never allowed any member of the royal family to be out of their sight, except when they retired to bed at night. They then locked the doors, and placed a bed against the entrance to each apartment, and there an officer slept, so as to prevent all possibility of egress. Every day San- terre, commander of the National Guard, made a visit of inspection to all the * The queen undressed the dauphin, when he repeated the followinp prayer, composed by the queen and remembered and recorded by her daughter: " Almighty God, who created and re- deemed me, I love you ! Treserve the days of my father and my family. Protect us against our enemies. Give my mother, my aunt, my sister, the strength they need to support their troubles." — Lamartine, History of the Girondists, vol. ii., p. 287. Vol. XL— C 314 THE PRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXX. rooms witTi his staff. At first the royal family had been allowed pen, ink, and paper, but this privilege was soon withdrawn, and at last the cruel and useless measure was adopted of taking from them all sharp instruments, such as knives, scissors, and even needles, thus depriving the ladies not only of a great solace, but of the power of repairing their decaying apparel. It was not the intention of the Legislative Assembly that the royal family should be exposed to needless suffering. Four hundred dollars were placed in their hands at the commencement of their captivity for their petty expenses, and the Grovernor of the Temple was ordered to purchase for them whatever they might need, five hundred thousand francs ($100,000) having been ap- propriated by the Convention for their expenses.* They were not allowed to see the daily journals, which would have in- formed them of the triumphant march of the Allies, but occasionally papers were sent to them which recorded the victories of the Republic. Clery, however, devised a very shrewd expedient to give them some information of the events which were transpiring. He hired a newsman to pass daily by the windows of the Temple, under the pretense of selling newspapers, and to cry out the principal details contained in them. Clery, while appar- ently busy about the room, was always sure to be near the window at the appointed hour, listening attentively. At night, stooping over the king's bed to adjust the curtains, he hastily whispered the news he had thus gath- ered. All this required the greatest caution, for a municipal ofiicer was always in the room, watching every movement. Early in the morning of the 11th of December all Paris was in commo- tion to witness the trial of the king, which was to commence on that day. The beating of drums in the street, the mustering of military squadrons at their appointed places of rendezvous, the clatter of hoofs, and the rumbling of artillery over the pavements penetrated even the gloomy apartments of the Temple, and fell appallingly upon the ears of the victims there. The royal family were at breakfast as they heard these ominous sounds, and they earnestly inquired the cause. After some hesitation the king was informed that the Mayor of Paris would soon come to conduct him to his trial, and that the troops gathering around the Temple were to form his es- cort. He was also required immediately to take leave of his family, and told that he could not be permitted to see them again until after his trial. Expressions of heart-rending anguish and floods of tears accompanied this cruel separation. The king jDleaded earnestly and with gushing eyes that, at least, he might enjoy the society of his little son, saying, * "We must not exaggerate the faults of human nature, and suppose that, adding an execrable meanness to the fury of fana ieism, the keepers of the imprisoned family imposed on it unworthy privations, with the intention of rendering the remembrance of its past greatness the more jiain- ful. Distrust was the sole cau;?e cf certain refusals. Thus, while the dread of plots and secret communications prevented them frou -"(Iniitting more than one attendant into the interior of the prison, a numerous establishment was ompi lycd in preparing their food. Thirteen persons were engaged in tiie duties of the kitchen, situated at some distance from the tower. The report of the expenses of the Temjile, where the greatest decency is observed, where the prisoners are mentioned with respect, where their sobriety is commended, where Louis XVI. is justified from the low reproach of being too much addicted to wine — these reports, which are not liable to sus- picion, make the total expenses of the table amount in two months to 28,745 livres ($5749)." — Thiers, vol. ii., p. 26. 1792.] THE KING LED TO TRIAL. 35^5 " What, gentlemen I deprive mc of even the presence of my son — a cliild of seven years!" But the commissioners were inexorable. " The Commune thinks," said they, " that, since you are to be au secret during your trial, your son must necessarily be confined either with you or his mother ; and it has imposed xhe privation upon that parent who, from his sex and courage, was best able to support it." The queen, with the children and Madame Elizabeth, were conducted to the rooms below. The king, overwhelmed with anguish, threw himself into a chair, buried his ftice in his hands, and, without uttering a word, remained immovable as a statue for two hours. At noon M. Chambon,* the Mayor of Paris, with Santcrre, commander of the National Guard, and a group of officers, all wearing the tricolored scarf, entered the king's chamber. Chambon, with solemnity and with a fiiltering voice, informed the king of the painful object of their mission, and summoned him, in the name of the Convention, as Lo^ds Ccqxt, to appear before their bar. " Gentlemen," replied the king, " Capet is not my name. It is the name of one of my ancestors. I could have wished that my son, at least, had been permitted to remain with me during the two hours I have awaited you. However, this treatment is but a ])art of the sj^stem adopted toward me throughout my captivity. I follow you, not in obedience to the orders of the Convention, but because my enemies are more powerful than I." Immediately rising, he put on his great-coat, took his hat, and, following the mayor, and followed by the staff of ofl&cers, descended the stairs of the tower. Before the massive portal of the Temple the carriage of the mayor was drawn up, surrounded by a guard of six hundred picked men. A numer- ous detachment of cavalry, as an advance-guard, dragging six pieces of can- non, led the melancholy procession which was conducting a monarch to the judgment-bar and to death. A similar body of cavalry followed in the rear with three pieces of cannon. These precautions were deemed necessary to guard against any possible rescue by the Eoyalists. Every soldier was sup- plied with sixteen rounds of cartridges, and the battalions marched in such order that they could instantly form in line of battle. The National Guard lined the streets through which they passed, one hundred thousand men be- ing under arms in Paris that day. The cavalcade passed slowly along the Boulevards. The house-tops, the windows, the side-walks, were thronged with countless thousands. The king, deprived of his razor, had been unable to shave, and his face was cov- ered with shaggy hair; his natural corpulence, wasted away by imprison- ment, caused his garments to hang loose and flabby about him ; his features were wan through anxiety and suffering. Thus, unfortunately, every thing * " M. Chambon, tho successor ofBailly and Pelion, was a learned and humane physician, whom public esteem rather than Revolutionary favor had raised to the difjnity of the first mag- istrate of Paris. 0( inodere j)rinciples, kind and warm-hearted, accustomed, by his profession, to sympathize with tlie unfortunate, comi)ellcd to exei'ute orders repupiant to his feelings, the pitj of the man was visible beneath the inflexibility of the magistrate." — Lamar tine, Hist, des Giro?!' distes, vol. ii., p. 321. 316 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChaP. XXX. in his personal appearance combined to present an aspect exciting disgust and repulsion rather than sympathy. The procession passed down the Place Yendome and thence to the Monastery of the Feuillants, The king alighted. Santerre took his arm and led him to the bar of the Convention. There was a moment of profound silence. All were awe-stricken by the solemnity of the scene. The president, Barrere,* broke the silence, saying, " Citizens ! Louis Capet is before you. The eyes of Europe are upon you. Posterity will judge you with inflexible severity. Preserve, then, the dig- nity and the dispassionate coolness befitting judges. You are about to give a great lesson to kings, a great and useful example to nations. Recollect the awful silence which accompanied Louis from Yarennes — a silence that was the precursor of the judgment of kings by the people." Then, turning to the king, Barrere said, "Louis, the French nation accuses you. Be seat- ed, and listen to the Act of Accusation." It was then two o'clock in the afternoon. The formidable indictment was read. The king was held personally re- sponsible for all the acts of hostility to popular liberty which had occurred under his reign. A minute, truthful, impartial recapitulation of those acts, which we have recorded in the previous pages, constituted the accusation. The king listened attentively to the reading, and without any apparent emo- tion. The accusation consisted of fifty-seven distinct charges. As they were slowly read over, one by one, the president paused after each and said to the king, " What have you to answer?" But two courses consistent with kingly dignity were open for the accused. The one was to refuse any reply and to take shelter in the inviolability with which the Constitution had in- vested him. The other was boldly to avow that he had adopted the meas- ures of which he was accused, believing it to be essential to tlic welfare of France that the headlong progress of the Revolution should be checked. Neither would have saved his life, but either would have rescued his mem- ory from much reproach. But the king, cruelly deprived of all counsel with his friends, dragged unexpectedly to his trial, and overwhelmed with such a catalogue of accusations, unfortunately adopted the worst possible course. The blame of some of the acts he threw upon his ministers ; some facts he denied ; and in other cases he not only prevaricated but stooped to palpable falsehood. When we reflect upon the weak nature of the king and the confusion of mind incident to an hour of such terrible trial, we must judge the unhappy monarch leniently. But when the king denied even the existence of the iron chest which the Convention had already found, and had obtained proof to demonstration that he himself had closed up, and when he denied complicity with the Allies, proofs of which, in his own hand- writing, were found in the iron safe, it is not strange that the effect should have been exceedingly unfavorable to his defense.f * ' ' Barrere escaped during the difi'crent ebullitions of the Revolution because he was a man, without principle or character, who changed and adapted himself to every side. He had the rep- utation of being a m.in of talent, but I did not find him such. I employed him to write, but he displayed no ability. He used many flowers of rhetoric, but no solid argument." — Napoleon at St. IJelena. t Gamain, the locksmith, who for ten years had worked for and with the king, and who had aided him in constructing this iron safe, basely betrayed the secret. The papers were all seized 1792.] THE KING LED TO TRIAL. 3i: 11. IRON SAFE. This interrogation was continued for three hours, at the close of which the king, who had eaten nothing since his interrupted breakfast, was so ex- hausted that he could hardly stand. Santerre then conducted him into an adjoining committee-room. Before withdrawing, however, the king de- manded a copy of the accusation, and counsel to assist him in his defense. In the committee-room the king saw a man eating from a small loaf of bread. Faint with hunger, the monarch approached the man, and, in u whisper, implored a morsel for himself. "Ask aloud," said the man, retreating, "for what you want." He feared that he should be suspected of some secret conspiracy with the king. "I am hungry," said Louis XVI., "and ask for a piece of your bread." " Divide it with me," said the man. " It is a Spartan breakfast. If I had a root I would give you half" The king entered the carriage eating his crust. The same cavalcade as in the morning preceded and accompanied him. The same crowds thronged the streets and every point of observation. A few brutal wretches, insult- ing helplessness, shouted Vive la Revolution! and now and then a stanza of the Marseillaise Hymn fell painfully upon his ear. Chambon, the mayor, and Chaumette, the public prosecutor, were in the carriage with the king. and intrusted by the Convention to a committee of twelve, who were to examine and report upon them. This Judas received, as his reward from the Convention, a pension of two hundred and furty dollars a year. See France and its Revolutions, by Geo. Long, Esq., p. 241. 318 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXL Louis, having eaten as much of the half loaf of bread as he needed, had still a fragment in his hand. " What shall I do with it ?" inquired the simple-hearted monarch. Chau- mette relieved him of his embarrassment by tossing it out of the window. "Ah," said the king, "it is a pity to throw bread away when it is so dear." " True," replied Chaumette ; " my grandmother used to say to me, ' Lit- tle boy, never waste a crumb of bread ; you can not make one.' "* "Monsieur Chaumette," Louis rejoined, "your grandmother appears to me to have been a woman of great good sense." It was half-past six o'clock, and the gloom of night enveloped the Tem- ple, when Louis was again conducted up the stairs of the tower to his dis- mal cell. He piteously implored permission again to see his family. But Chambon dared not grant his request in disobedience to the commands of the Commune. The most frivolous things often develop character. It is on record that the toils and griefs of the day had not impaired the appetite of the king, and that he ate for supper that night " six cutlets, a considerable portion of a fowl, two eggs, and drank two glasses of white wine and one of Alicante wine, and forthwith went to bed."f During these dreadful hours the queen, with Madame Elizabeth and the children, were in a state of agonizing suspense, not even knowing but that the king was being led to his execution. Clery, however, late in the even- ing, went to their room and informed them of all the details he had been able to gather respecting the king's examination. ' " Has any mention been made of the queen ?" asked Madame Elizabeth. "Her name was not mentioned," Clery replied, "in the act of accusation." " Ah," rejoined the princess, " perhaps they demand my brother's life as necessary for their safety ; but the queen — these poor children — what obsta- cle can their lives present to their ambition?"^ CHAPTER XXXL EXECUTION OF LOUIS XVI. Close of the Examination. — The King's Counsel. — Heroism of Malesherbes. — Preparations for Defense.— Gratitude of the King. — The Trial. — Protracted Vote. — The Result. — The King solicits the Delay of Execution for three Days. — Last Interview with his Family. — Preparation for Death. — The Execution. As soon as the king had withdrawn from the Assembl}'', that body was thrown into great tumult in consequence of the application of Louis for the assistance of counsel. It was, however, after an animated debate, which continued until the next day, voted that the request of the king should be granted, and a deputation was immediately sent to inform the king of the vote, and to ask what counsel he would choose. He selected two of the most eminent lawyers of Paris — M. Tronchet and M. Target. Tronchet he- * Hist. Pari., vol. xxi., p. 314. t Re'sume du Rapport du Commissaire Albertier, Hist. Pari., vol. xxi., p. 319. 1792.] EXECUTION OF LOUIS XVI. 319 roically accepted the perilous commission. Target, with pusillanimity which has consigned his name to disgrace, wrote a letter to the Convention stating that his principles would not allow him to undertake the defense of the king,* The venerable Maleshcrbes, then seventy years of age, immediately w^rote a letter to the president, imploring permission to assume the defense of the monarch. This distinguished statesman, a friend of monarchy and a personal friend of the monarch, had been living in the retirement of his country-seat, and had taken no part in the Revolution. By permission of the Commune he was conducted, after he had been carefully searched, to the Temple. With a faltering step he entered the prison of the king. Louis XVI. was seated reading Tacitus. The king immediately arose, threw his arms around Malesherbes in a cordial embrace, and said, " Ah, is it you, my friend ! In what a situation do 3^ou find me ! See to w^hat my passion for the amelioration of the state of the people, w' horn we have both loved so much, has reduced me ! Why do you come hither ? Your devotion only endangers your life and can not save mine." Malesherbes, with eyes full of tears, endeavored to cheer the king with ■ words of hope. " No !" replied the monarch, sadly. " They will condemn me, for they possess both the power and the will. No matter ; let us occupy ourselves with the cause as if we were to gain it. I shall gain it in fact, since I shall leave no stain upon my memory." The two defenders of the king were permitted to associate with them a third, M. Deseze, an advocate who had attained much renown in his pro- fession. For a fortnight they were employed almost night and day in pre- paring for the defense. Malesherbes came every morning with the daily papers, and prepared for the labors of the evening. At five o'clock Tron- chet and Deseze came, and they all worked together until nine. In the mean time the king wrote his will ; a very affecting document, breathing in every line the spirit of a Christian. He also succeeded in so far eluding the vigilance of his keepers as to open a slight correspondence with his family. The queen pricked a message with a pin upon a scrap of paper, and then concealed the paper in a ball of thread, which was dropped into a drawer in the kitchen, where Clery took it and conveyed it to his master. An answer was returned in a similar way. It was but an unsatis- factory correspondence which could thus be carried on ; but even this was an unspeakable solace to the captives. At length the plan of defense was completed. Malesherbes and the king had furnished the facts, Tronchet and Deseze had woven them all into an exceedingly eloquent and affecting appeal. Desdze read it aloud to the king and his associates. The pathetic picture he drew of the vicissitudes of the royal family was so touching that even Malesherbes and Tronchet could not refrain from weeping, and tears fell from the eyes of the king. At the * Ono of Napoloon's first acts upon becoming First Consul was to show his appreciation of the heroism of Tronchet by ])lacing him at the head of the Court of Cassation. "Tronchet," he said, "was the soul of the civil code, as I was its demonstrator. He was piftcd with a singularly profound and correct imderstanding, but he coiild not descend to dcvclo]inients. He spoke badly, and could not defend what he proposed." — Napoleon at St. Helena, p. 192. 320 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXXI. close of the reading, the king turned to Deseze, and, in the spirit of true majesty of soul, said, " I have to request of you to make a painful sacrifice. Strike out of your pleading the peroration. It is enough for me to appear before such judges and show my entire innocence. I will not move their feelings."* Deseze was very reluctant to accede to this request, but was constrained to yield. After Tronchet and Deseze had retired that night, the king, left alone with Malesherbes, seemed to be troubled with some engrossing thought. At last he said, " I have now a new source of regret. Deseze and Tronchet owe me noth- ing. They devote to me their time, exertions, and perhaps their life. How can I requite them ? I possess nothing ; and were I to leave them a legacy it would not be paid ; besides, what fortune could repay such a debt?" LOUIS XVI. AND MALESHEEIiES. " Sire," replied Malesherbes, " their consciences and posterity will reward them. But it is in your power to grant them a favor they will esteem more than all those you had it in your power to bestow upon them formerly." "What is it?" added the king. " Sire, embrace them," Malesherbes replied. The next day, when they entered his chamber, the king approached them and pressed each to his heart in silence. This touching testimonial of the king's gratitude, and of his impoverishment, was to the noble hearts of these noble men an ample remuneration for all their toil and peril. The 26th of December had now arrived, the day appointed for the final trial. At an early hour all Paris was in commotion, and the whole military force of the metropolis was again marshaled. The sublimity of the occasion seemed to have elevated the character of the king to unusual dignity. He ♦ liacreteUe. 1792.] EXECUTION OF LOUIS XVI. 321 was neatly dressed, bis beard sliavcd, and bis features were serene and al- most majestic in tbeir expression of imperturbable resignation. As be rode in tbe carriage witb Cbambon, tbe mayor, and Santerre, tbe commander of tbe National Guard, be conversed cbeerfully upon a variety of topics. San- terre, regardless of tbe etiquette wbicb did not allow a subject to wear bis bat in tbe presence of bis monarcb, sat witb bis bat on, Tbe king turned to bim, and said, witb a smile, " Tbe last time, sir, you conveyed me to tbe Temple, in your burry you forgot your bat ; and now, I perceive, you are determined to make up for tbe omission." On entering tbe Convention tbe king took bis seat by the side of bis coun- sel, and listened witb intense interest to tbe reading of bis defense, watcbing tbe countenances of bis judges to see tbe effect it was producing upon tbeir minds. Occasionally be wbispered, and even witb a smile, to Malesberbes and Troncbet. Tbe Convention received tbe defense in profound silence. Tbe defense consisted of tbree leading divisions. First, it was argued tbat by tbe Constitution tbe king was inviolable, and not responsible for tbe acts of tbe crown — tbat tbe Ministers alone were responsible. He secondly argued tbat tbe Convention bad no rigbt to try tbe king, for tbe Convention were bis accusers, and, consequently, could not act as bis judges. Tbirdly, wbile protesting, as above, tbe inviolability of tbe king, and tbe invalidity of tbe Convention to judge bim, be tben proceeded to tbe discussion of tbe individual cbarges. Some of tbe charges were triumphantly repelled, par- ticularly tbat of shedding French blood on the lOtb of August. It was clearly proved that the people, not Louis XVI., were tbe aggressors. As soon as Deseze bad finished his defense, tbe king himself rose and said, in a few words which he had w^ritten and committed to memory, " You have heard the grounds of my defense. I shall not repeat them. In addressing you, perhaps for tbe last time, I declare tbat my conscience reproaches me witb nothing, and that my defenders have told you the truth. I have never feared to have my public conduct scrutinized. But I am grieved to find that I am accused of wishing to shed the blood of my people, and that the misfortunes of the 10th of August are laid to my charge. I confess tbat the numerous proofs I have always given of my love for the people ought to have placed me above this reproach." He resumed his seat. The President then asked if be bad any thing more to say. He declared he had not, and retired with bis counsel fiom tbe ball. As be was conducted back to tbe Temple, be conversed witb tbe same se- renity be bad manifested throughout tbe whole day. It was five o'clock, and tbe gloom of night was descending upon tbe city as be re-entered bis prison. No sooner bad the king left the ball than a violent tumult of debate com- menced, which was continued, day after day, witb a constant succession of eager, agitated speakers hurrying to the tribune, for twelve days. Some were in ^vQr of an immediate judgment, some were for referring tbe ques- ■^■on to me people ; some demanded the death of tbe king, others imprison- ment or exile. On the 7th of January all seemed weary of these endless speeches, and tbe endless repetition of tbe same arguments. Still, there X 322 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXT, were many clamorous to be heard ; and, after a violent contest, it was voted that the decisive measure should be postponed for a week longer, and that on the 14th of January the question should be taken. The fatal day arrived. It was decreed that the subject should be pre- sented to the Convention in the three following questions : First^ Is Louis guilty?- Second, Shall the decision of the Convention be submitted to the ratification of the people ? The whole of the 15th was occupied in taking these two votes. Louis was unanimously pronounced to be guilty, with the exception of ten who refused to vote, declaring themselves incapable of act- ing both as accusers and judges. On the question of an appeal to the people^ 281 voices were for it, -123 against it.* And now came the third great and solemn question, What shall be the sentence ? Each member was required to write his vote, sign it, and then, before depositing it, to ascend the tribune and give it audibly, with any remarks which he might wish to add. The voting commenced at seven o'clock in the evening of the 16th, and continued all night, and without any interruption, for twenty-four hours. All Paris was during the time in the highest state of excitement, the gal- leries of the Convention being crowded to suffocation. Some voted for death, others for imprisonment until peace with allied Europe, and then banishment. Others voted for death, with the restriction that the execution should be delayed. They wished to save the king, and yet feared the accu- sation of being Royalists if they did not vote for his death. The Jacobins all voted for death. They had accused their opponents, the Girondists, of being secretly in favor of royality, and as such had held them up to the exe- cration of the mob. The Girondists wished to save the king. It was in their power to save him. But it required more courage, both moral and physical, than ordinary men possess, to brave the vengeance of the assassins of September who were hovering around the hall. It was pretty well understood in the Convention that the fate of the king depended upon the Girondist vote, and it was not doubted that the party would vote as did their leader. It was a moment of fearful solemnity when Vergniaud ascended the tribune. Breathless silence pervaded the Assembly. Every eye was fixed upon him. His countenance was jjallid as that of a corpse. For a moment he paused, with downcast eyes, as if hesitating to pronounce the dreadful word. Then, in a gloomy tone which thrilled the hearts of all present, he said, Death.f Nearly all the Girondists voted for death, with the restriction of delaying the execution. Many of the purest * Lamartinc, History of the Girondists, vol. ii., p. 342. t "The crowd in the galleries received with murmurs all votes that were not for death, and they frequently addressed threatening gestures to the Assembly itself. The deputies replied to them from the interior of the hall, and hence resulted a tumultuous exchange of menaces and abusive epithets. This fearfully ominous scene had shaken all minds and changed many resolu- tions. Vergniaud, who had appeared deeply affected by the fate of Louis XVI., and who had declared to his friends that he never could condemn that unfortunate prince, Vergniaud, on be- holding this tumultuous scene, imagined that he saw civil war kindled in France, and i)ronounced sentence of death, with the addition, however, of Mailhe's amendment (which required that the execution should be delayed). On being questioned res))ecting his change of opinion, he replied that he thought he saw civil war on the jjoint of breaking out, and that he diu-st not balance the life of an individual against the welfare of France." — Theim's History 0/ the French Revolution, vol. ii., p. G8. -j^ygg ] EXECUTION OF LOUIS XVI. 323 men in the nation thus voted, with emotions of sadness which could not be repressed. The noble Cainot gave his vote in the following terms : Death ; and never did word weigh so heavily on my heart." AVhen the Duke of Orleans was called, deep sUence ensued. He was cousin of the king, and first prince of the blood. By birth and opulence he stood on the highest pinnacle of aristocratic supremacy. Conscious ot peri^ he had for a long time done every thing in his power to conciliate the mob by adopting the most radical of Jacobin opinions. The Duke, bloated with the debaucheries which had disgraced his life, ascended the steps slowly, un- folded a paper, and read in heartless tones these words : " Solely occupied with my duty, convinced that all who have attempted, or shall attempt hereafter, the sovereignty of the people, merit death, I vote ° The atrocity of this act excited the abhorrence of the Assembly, and loud murmurs of disapprobation followed the prince to his seat. Even Kobes- pierre despised his pusillanimity, and said, "The miserable man was only required to listen to his own heart, and make himself an exception. But he would not or dare not do so. The na- tion would have been more magnanimous than he."'^ At length the long scrutiny was over, and Vergniaud, who had presided, rose to announce the result. He was pale as death, and it was observed that not only his voice faltered, but that his whole frame trembled. " Citizens," said he, " you are about to exercise a great act of justice, i hope humanity will enjoin you to keep the most perfect silence. When jus- tice has spoken humanity ought to be listened to m its turn." He then read the results of the vote. There were seven hundred and twenty-one voters in the Convention. Three hundred and thirty-four voted for imprisonment or exile, three hundred and eighty-seven for death, mclud- ino- those who voted that the execution should be delayed. Thus the ma- iority for death was fifty-three; but as of these forty-six demanded a sus- pension of the execution, there remained but a majority of seven for mime- diate death. Having read this result, Vergniaud, in a sorrowful tone, said " I declare, in the name of the Convention, that the pumshmcnt pronounced against Louis Capet is death."t * " Robespierre was bv no means the worst charactor who figured in the Tlovohxtion He op- posed trying the queen. " He was not an atheist ; on the contrary, he had pub holy "->«^;-;d he cxistenee o? a Supreme Being, in opposition to many of his colleagues. Nenher -- he «/ «P "- ion that it was necessary to exterminate all priests and nobles, hke many others. Robespxerre wanted to proclaim the king an outlaw, and not to go through the rulaulous mockery of try ng him. Robespierre was a fanatic, a monster ; but he was incorruptible, and mcapab e of robb ng or of causing the deaths of others, either from personal enmity or a desire of enmlnng himself He was an enthusiast, but one who really belieyed that he was acting right, and died not «oith a son. In some respects Robespierre may be said to have been an honest man. -i\aj,okon at bt. t'^'^Of 'those who iudced the king many thought him willfully criminal ; many that his exist- ence would keep the' nation in perpetual conflict with the horde of kings who would war against a generation which might come home to themsehes, and that it were better that one should die than all. I should not have yoted with this portion of the Legislature. I should have shut up the queen in a convent, putting harm out of her power, and placed the king in hus station, mvest- ing him with limited powers, which I verily believe he would honestly have exercised, according to the measure of his understandiug."-77iomas Jefferson, Life by Randall, vol. i., p. 533. There were obviously insuperable objections to the plan thus suggested by Mr. Jeflersoii. 324 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXI. The counsel of Louis XVI., who, during the progress of the vote, had urged permission to speak, but were refused, were now introduced. In the name of the king, Deseze appealed to the people from the judgment of the Convention, He urged the appeal from the very small majority which had decided the penalty. Tronchet urged that the penal code required a vote of two thirds to consign one to punishment, and that the king ought not to be deprived of a privilege which every subject enjoyed. Malesherbes en- deavored to speak, but was so overcome with emotion that, violently sob- bing, he was unable to continue his speech, and was compelled to sit down. His gray hairs and his tears so moved the Assembly that Vergniaud rose, and, addressing the Assembly, said, " Will you decree the honors of the sit- ting to the defenders of Louis XVI. ?" The unanimous response was, " Yes, yes." It was now late at night, and the Convention adjourned. The whole of the 18th and the 19th were occupied in discussing the question of the appeal to the people. On the 20th, at three o'clock in the morning, the final vote was taken. Three hundred and ten voted to sustain the appeal ; three hund- red and eighty for immediate death. All the efforts to save the king were now exhausted, and his fate was sealed. A deputation was immediately ap- pointed, headed by Garat, Minister of Justice, to acquaint Louis XVI. with the decree of the Convention. At two o'clock in the afternoon of the 20th, Louis heard the noise of a nu- merous party ascending the steps of the tower. As they entered his apart- ment he rose and stepped forward with perfect calmness and dignity to meet them. The decree of the Convention was read to the king, declaring him to be guilty of treason, that he was condemned to death, that the appeal to the people was refused, and that he was to be executed within twenty -four hours. The king listened to the reading unmoved, took the paper from the hands of the secretary, folded it carefully, and placed it in his port-folio. Then turning to Garat, he handed him a paper, saying, "Monsieur Minister of Justice, I request you to deliver this letter to the Convention." Garat hesitated to take the paper, and the king immediately rejoined, " I will read it to you," and read, in a distinct, unfaltering voice, as follows : " I demand of the Convention a delay of three days, in order to prepare myself to appear before God. I require, farther, to see freely the priest whom I shall name to the commissaries of the Commune, and that he be protected in the act of charity which he shall exercise toward me. I demand to be freed from the perpetual surveillance which has been exercised toward me for so many days. I demand, during these last moments, leave to see my family, when I desire it, without witnesses. I desire most earnestly that the Convention will at once take into consideration the fate of my family, and that they be allowed immediately to retire unmolested whithersoever they shall see fit to choose an asylum. I recommend to the kindness of the na- tion all the persons attached to me. There are among them many old men, and women, and children, who are entirely dependent upon me, and must be in want." The delegation retired. The king, with a firm step, walked two or three 1793.] EXECUTION OF LOUIS XVI. 325 times up and down his chamber, and then called for his dinner. He sat down and ate with his usual appetite ; but his attendants refused to let him have either knife or fork, and he was furnished only with a spoon. This ex- cited his indignation, and he said, warmly, " Do they think that I am such a coward as to lay violent hands upon myself? I am innocent, and I shall die fearlessly." Having finished his repast, he waited patiently for the return of the an- swer from the Convention. At six o'clock, Garat, accompanied by Santerre, entered again. The Convention refused the delay of execution which Louis XVI. had solicited, but granted the other demands. In a few moments M. Edgeworth, the ecclesiastic who had been sent for, arrived. He entered the chamber, and, overwhelmed with emotion, fell at the monarch's feet and burst into tears. The king, deeply moved, also wept, and, as he raised M. Edgeworth, said, " Pardon me this momentary weakness. I have lived so long among my enemies that habit has rendered me indifferent to their hatred, and my heart has been closed against all sentiments of tenderness ; but the sight of a faith- ful friend restores to me my sensibility, which I believed dead, and moves me to tears in spite of myself" The king conversed earnestly with his spiritual adviser respecting his will, which he read, and inquired earnestly for kis friends, whose sufferings moved his heart deeply. The hour of seven had now arrived, when the king was to hold his last interview with his family. But even this could not be in private. He was to be watched by his jailers, who were to hear every word and witness every gesture. The door opened, and the queen, pallid and woe-stricken, entered, leading her son by the hand. She threw herself into the arms of her husband, and silently endeavored to draw him toward her chamber. "No, no," whispered the king, clasping her to his heart; "I can see you only here.". Madame Elizabeth, with the king's daughter, followed. A scene of an- guish ensued which neither pen nor pencil can portray. The king sat down, with the queen upon his right hand, his sister upon his left, their arms en- circling his neck, and their heads resting upon his breast. The dauphin sat upon his father's knee, with his arm around his neck. The beautiful prin- cess, with disheveled hair, threw herself between her father's knees, and bur- ied her face in his lap. More than half an hour passed during which not an articulate word was spoken ; but cries, groans, and occasional shrieks of an- guish, which pierced even the thick walls of the Temple and were heard in the streets, rose from the group. For two hours the agonizing interview was continued. As they gradual- ly regained some little composure, in low tones they whispered messages of tenderness and love, interrupted by sobs, and kisses, and blinding floods of tears. It was now after nine o'clock, and in the morning the king was to be led to the guillotine. The queen implored permission for them to remain with him through the night. The king, through tenderness for his family, declined, but promised to see them again at seven o'clock the next morning. As the king accompanied them to the stair-case their cries were redoubled, 326 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXXI. ''^iiilii;i[i!i!ll|i!'!:,„ LAST INTERVIEW ItETWEEN LOUIS XVI. AND Ulb 1A.MILY. and the princess fainted in utter unconsciousness at her father's feet. The queen, Madame Ehzabeth, and Clery carried her to the stairs, and the king returned to the room, and, burying his face in his hands, sank, exhausted, into a chair. After a long silence he turned to M. Edgeworth and said, " Ah ! monsieur, what an interview I have had ! Why do I love so fond- ly ? Alas ! why am I so fondly loved ? But we have now done with time. Let us occupy ourselves with eternity." The king passed some time in religious conversation and prayer, and, hav- ing arranged with M. Edgeworth to partake of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper in the earliest hours of the morning, at midnight threw himself upon his bed, and almost immediately fell into a calm and refreshing sleep. The faithful Clery and M. Edgeworth watched at the bedside of the king. At five o'clock they woke him. "lias it struck five?" inquired the king. "Not yet by the clock of the tower," Clery replied; "but several of the clocks of the city have struck." " I have slept soundly," remarked the king. " I was much fatigued yesterday." He immediately arose. An altar had been prepared in the middle of the room composed of a chest of drawers, and the king, after engaging earnestly in prayer, received the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Then leading Clery into the recess of a window, he detached from his watch a seal, and took from his finger a wedding-ring, and handing them to Clery, said, " After my death you will give this seal to my son, this ring to the queen. Tell her I resign it with pain that it may not be profened with my body. This small parcel contains locks of hair of all my family : that you will give her. Say to the queen, my dear children, and my sister, that I had prom- 1798.] EXECUTION OF LOUIS XVI. 327 ised to see them this morning, but that I desired to spare them the agony of such a bitter separation twice over. IIow much it has cost me to depart without receiving their last embraces !" He could say no more, for sobs choked his utterance. Soon recovering himself, he called for scissors, and cut off his long hair, that he might escape the humiliation of having that done by the executioner. A few beams of daylight began now to penetrate the gloomy prison through the grated windows, and the beating of drums, and the rumbling of the wheels of heavy artillery were heard in the streets. The king turned to his confessor, and said, " How happy I am that I maintained my faith on the throne ! Where should I be this day but for this hope ? Yes, there is on high a Judge, in- corruptible, who will award to mc that measure of justice which men refuse to me here below." Two hours passed away, while the king listened to the gathering of the troops in the court-3'ard and around the Temple. At nine o'clock a tumult- uous noise was heard of men ascending the stair-case. Santerre entered, with twelve municipal officers and ten gens d'armes. The king, with command- ing voice and gesture, pointed Santerre to the door, and said, " You have come for me. I will be with you in an instant. Await me there," Falling upon his knees, he engaged a moment in prayer, and then, turn- ing to M. Edgeworth, said, " All is consummated. Give me your blessing, and pray to God to sus- tain me to the end." He rose, and taking from the table a paper which contained his last will and testament, addressed one of the municipal guard, saying, "I beg of you to transmit this paper to the queen." The man, whose name was Jacques Eoux, brutally replied, " I am here to conduct you to the scaffold, not to per- form 3'our commissions." " True," said the king, in a saddened tone, but without the slightest ap- pearance of irritation. Then carefully scanning the countenances of each member of the guard, he selected one w^hose features expressed humanity, and solicited him to take charge of the paper. The man, whose name was Gobeau, took the paper. The king, declining the cloak which Clery offered him, said, "Give me only my hat." Then, taking the hand of Clery, he pressed it affectionately in a final adieu, and, turning to Santerre, said, "Let us go." Descending the stairs with a firm tread, followed by the armed escort, he met a turnkey whom he had the evening before reproached for some impertinence. The king approached him and said, in tones of kindness, " Mathey, I was somewhat warm with you yesterday ; excuse me for the sake of this hour." As he crossed the court-yard, he twice turned to look up at the windows of the queen's apartment in the tower, where those so dear to him were suf- fering the utmost anguish which human hearts can endure. Two gens d'armes sat upon the front scat of the carriage. The king and M. Edge- worth took the back seat. The morning was damp and chill, and gloomy 328 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXXI. clouds darkened the sky. Sixty drums were beating at the heads of the horses, and an army of troops, with all the most formidable enginery of war, preceded, surrounded, and followed the carriage. The noise of the drums prevented any conversation," and the king sat in silence in the car- riage, evidently engaged in prayer. The procession moved so slowly along the Boulevards that it was two hours before they reached the Place de la Kevolution. An immense crowd filled the place, above whom towered the lofty platform and blood-red posts of the guillotine. As the carriage stopped the king whispered to M. Edge worth, " We have xxzoimoM OF Luum xvi. 1793.] EXECUTION OF LOUIS XVI. 329 arrived, if I mistake not." The drums ceased beating, and the whole mul- titude gazed in the most solemn silence. The two gens d'armes alighted. The king placed his hand upon the knee of the heroic ecclesiastic, M. Edge- worth, and said to the gens d'armes, " Gentlemen, I recommend to your care this gentleman. Let him not be insulted after my death. I entreat you to watch over him," " Yes, yes," said one, contemptuously ; " make your mind easy, we will take care of him. Let us alone." Louis alighted. Two of the executioners came to the foot of the scaffold to take off his coat. The king waved them away, and himself took off his coat and cravat, and turned down the collar of his shirt, that his throat might be presented bare to the knife. They then came with cords to bind his hands behind his back. " What do you wish to do?" said the king, indignantly. "Bind you," they replied, as they seized his hands, and endeavored to fasten them with the cords. "Bind me!" replied the king, in tones of deepest feeling. "No, no; I will never consent. Do your business, but 3-ou shall not bind me." The executioners seized him rudely, and called for help. "Sire," said his Christian adviser, "suffer this outrage, as a last resemblance to that God who is about to be your reward." "Assuredly," replied the king, "there needed nothing less than the ex- ample of God to make me submit to such an indignity." Then, holding out his hands to the executioners, he said, " Do as you will ! I will drink the cup to the dregs." With a firm tread he ascended the steep steps of the scaffold, looked for a moment upon the keen and polished edge of the axe, and then, turning to the vast throng, said, in a voice clear and untremulous, " People, I die innocent of all the crimes imputed to me ! I pardon the authors of my death, and pray to God that the blood you are about to shed may not fall again on France." He would have continued, but the drums were ordered to beat, and his voice was immediately drowned. The executioners seized him, bound him to the plank, the slide fell, and the head of Louis XVI. dropped into the basket. No one has had a better opportunity of ascertaining the true character of tlie king than President Jefferson. Speaking of some of the king's measures he said, " These concessions came from the very heart of the king. He had not a wish but for the good of the nation ; and for that object no per- sonal sacrifice would ever have cost him a moment's regret ; but his mind was weakness itself, his constitution timid, his judgment null, and without suffiicient firmness even to stand by the faith of his word. His queen, too, haught}^ and bearing no contradiction, had an absolute ascendency over him; and round her were rallied the king's brother, D'Artois, the court generally, and the aristocratic part of his ministers, particularly Breteuil, Broglio, Vauguyon, Foulon, Luzerne — men whose principles of government were those of the age of Louis XFV. Against this host, the good counsels of Necker, ^routniorin, St. Priest, although in unison with the wishes of Vol. 11.— D 330 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXXI. the king liimself, were of little avail. The resolutions of the morning, formed under their advice, would be reversed in the evening by the influ- ence of the queen and the court." The Royalists were exceedingly exasperated by the condemnation of the king. A noble, Lepelletier St. Fargeau, who had espoused the popular cause, voted for the king's death. The Royalists were peculiarly excited against him, in consequence of his rank and fortune. On the evening of the 20th of January, as Louis was being informed of his sentence, a life- guardsman of the king tracked Lepelletier into a restaurateur's in the Palais Royal, and, just as he was sitting down to the table, stepped up to him and said, "Art thou Lepelletier, the villain who voted for the death of the king?" "Yes," replied Lepelletier, "but I am not a villain. I voted according to my conscience." "There, then," rejoined the life-guardsman, "take that for thy reward," and he plunged his sword to the hilt in his side. Lepelletier fell dead, and his assassin escaped before they had time to arrest him. This event created intense excitement, and increased the conviction that the Royalists had conspired to rescue the king, by force of arms, at the foot of the scaffold. ASSABBXNATION OF LEFELLETHEB DK BT. FABOEAIT. 1793.] THE KEIGN OF TERROR. 331 CHAPTER XXXn. THE REIGN OF TERROR. Charges against the Girondists. — Danton. — The French Embassador ordered to leave England. — War declared against England. — Navy of England. — Internal War.— Plot to assassinate the Girondists. — Bold Words of Vergniaud.— Insurrection in La Vende'e. — Conflict between Dumouriez and the Assembly. — Flight of Dumouriez. — The Mob aroused and the Girondists arrested. — Charlotte Corday.— France rises en masse to repel the Allies. — The treasonable Surrender of Toulon. The execution of the king roused all Europe against republican France. The Jacobins had gained a decisive victory over the Girondists, and suc- ceeded in turning popular hatred against them by accusing them of being enemies of the people, because they opposed the excesses of the mob ; of being the friends of royalty, because they had wished to save the life of the king ; and of being hostile to the republic, because they advocated meas- sures of moderation.* Danton was now the acknowledged leader of the Jacobins. He had ob- tained the entire control of the mob of Paris, and could guide their terrible and resistless energies in any direction. With this potent weapon in his hand he was omnipotent, and his political adversaries were at his mercy. The Reign of Terror had now commenced. The Girondists made a heroic attempt to bring to justice the assassins of September, but the Jacobins promptly stopped the proceedings. The aristocracy of birth was now effectually crushed, and the Jacobins commenced a warfare against the aristocracy of wealth and character. An elegant mansion, garments of fine cloth, and even polished manners, ex- posed one to the charge of being an aristocrat, and turned against him the insults of the rabble. Marat was particularly fierce, in his journal, against the aristocracy of the burghers, merchants, and statesmen. Upon the arrival of the courier in London conveying intelligence of the execution of the king, M. Chauvelin, the French embassador, was ordered to leave England within twenty-four hours. "After events," said Pitt, "on which the imagination can only dwell with horror, and since an infernal foction has seized on the supreme power in France, we could no longer tolerate the presence of M. Chauvelin, who has left no means untried to induce the people to rise against the govern- ment and the laws of this country." The National Convention at once declared war against England.f Pitt, with almost superhuman energy, mustered the forces of England and Eu- rope for the strife. In less than six months England had entered into a * Mignet, p. 192. t "The Convention, finding England already leagued with the coalition, and consequently all its promises of netitrality vain and illusive, on the 1st of February, 1793, declared war against the King of Great Britain and the Stadtholder of Holland, who had been entirely guided by the cabi- net of St. James's since 1788."— ^fignet, vol. i., p. 195^ 332 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXII. treaty of alliance with Russia, Prussia, Austria, Naples, Spain, and Portu- gal, for tlie prosecution of the war ; and had also entered into treaties by which she promised large subsidies to Hesse Cassel, Sardinia, and Baden. England thus became the soul of this coalition, which combined the whole of Europe, with the exception of Venice, Switzerland, Sweden, Denmark, and Turkey, against France. These combined armies were to assail the Republic by land, while the invincible fleet of England was to hurl a storm of shot and shells into all her maritime towns. France, at this time, had but one hundred and fifty-nine vessels of war all told. England had four hundred and fifteen, and her ally, Holland, one hundred. Most of these were large ships, heavily armed ; and, consequent- ly, England had but little fear that any French armies could reach her isles.* Parliament voted an extraordinary supply of £3,200,000 ($16,000,000). One hundred and thirty-one thousand Austrians, one hundred and twelve thousand Prussians, and fifty thousand Spaniards were speedily on the march to assail France at every point on the frontier.f The Royalists in La Vendee rose in arms against the Republic, and un- furled the white banner of the Bourbons. France was now threatened more fearfully than ever before with external and internal war. The Conven- tion, controlled by the Jacobins and appalled by the danger, decreed a levy of three hundred thousand men to repel the assailants, and also organized an extraordinary revolutionary tribunal, invested with unlimited powers to arrest, judge, and punish any whom they should deem dangerous to the Republic. Violence filled the land, terror reigned every where, and even Robespierre was heard to exclaim, " I am sick of the Revolution." Dumouriez had driven the Austrians out of Belgium and the Netherlands, and was at the head of an army of about seventy -five thousand men. Dis- gusted with the anarchy which reigned in France, he formed the bold de- sign of marching upon Paris with his army, dispersing the Convention, abolishing the Republic, reinstituting a constitutional monarchy by estab- lishing the Constitution of 1791, and by placing a king, probably the son of the Duke of Orleans, subsequently Louis Philippe, upon the throne. The Jacobins, goaded by these accumulating dangers — all Europe assailing France from without, and Royalists plotting within — were prepared for any measures of desperation. The Girondists, with unavailing heroism, opposed the frantic measures of popular violence, and the Jacobins resolved to get rid of them all by a decisive blow. The assassins of September were ready to ply the dagger, under the plea that murder was patriotism. A plan was formed to strike them all down, in the Convention, on the night of the 10th of March. But the Girondists, informed of the plot, absented themselves from the meeting and the enterprise failed. The bold spirit of the Giron- dists was avowed in the words of Vergniaud : "We have witnessed," said he, "the development of that strange system of liberty in which we are told ' You are free, but think with us, or we will * Lamartinc, History of the Girondists, vol. ii., p. 395. t "It was in Spain, more particularly, that Pitt set intripues at work to urge her to the great- est blunder slie ever committed — that of joining England against France, her only maritime ally." — Thiers, vol. ii., p. 82. 1793.] THE REIGN OF TERROR. 333 denounce you to the vengeance of the people ; you are free, but bow down your head to the idol we worship, or we will denounce you to the vengeance of the people; you are free, but join us in persecuting the men whose prob- ity and intelligence we dread, or we will denounce you to the vengeance of the people.' Citizens ! we have reason to fear that the Revolution, like Sat- urn, will devour successively all its children, and only engender despotism and the calamities which accompany it." The Province of La Vendee contained a population of about three hund- red thousand. It was a rural district where there was no middle class. The priests and the nobles had the unlettered peasantry entirely under their in- fluence. Three armies were raised here against the Eepublic, of about twelve thousand each. Royalists from various parts of the empire flocked to this region, and emigrants were landed upon the coast to join the insur- gents. For three years a most cruel and bloody war was here waged between the Royalists and the Republicans, The intelligence of this formidable insurrection increased the panic of the Convention, A law was passed disarming all who had belonged to the privileged class, and declaring those to be outlaws who should be found in any hostile gathering against the Republic. The emigrants were forbidden to land in France under the penalty of death. Every house in the kingdom was to inscribe upon its door the names of all its inmates, and was to be open at all times to the visits of the Vigilance Committee, Dumouriez sullied his character by surrendering to the Austrians several fortresses, and agreeing with them that he would march upon Paris and re- store a monarchical government to France. The Austrians trusted that he would place upon the throne the young son of Louis XVI., though it was doubtless his intention to place there the young Duke of Chartres (Louis Philippe), who would be the representative of popular ideas. The Jacobin Club sent a deputation of three of its members to the camp, to sound the views of Dumouriez, The general received them with cour- tesy, but said, with military frankness, ( " The Convention is an assembly of tyrants. While I have three inches of steel by my side that monster shall not exist. As for the Republic, it is an idle word. I had faith in it for three days. There is only one way to save the country ; that is, to re-establish the Constitution of 1791 and a king." " Can you think of it!" one of the deputation exclaimed ; " the French view royalty with horror. The very name of Louis is an abomination." *' What does it signify," replied Dumouriez, " whether the king be called Louis, or Jacques, or Philippe ?" " And what are your means to eflcct this revolution ?" they inquired. " My army," Dumouriez proudly replied. " From my camp or from the stronghold of some fortress they will express their resolve for a king," " But your plan will peril the lives of the rest of the royal family in the Temple," " If every member of that family in France or at Coblentz should perish," Dumouriez replied, " I can still find a chief. And if any farther barbarities are practiced upon the Bourbons in the Temple I will surround Paris with my army and starve the Parisians into subjection." 334 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXII. The deputation returned to Paris with, their report, and four commission- ers were immediately dispatched, accompanied by the Minister of War, to summon Dumouriez to the bar of the Convention. Dumouriez promptly arrested the commissioners and sent them off to the Austrians, to be retained by them as hostages. DUMOtmiEZ AKKESTING THE ENVOYS. The Convention immediately offered a reward for the head of Dumouriez, raised an army of forty thousand men to defend Paris, and arrested all the relatives of the ofl&cers under Dumouriez as hostages. Dumouriez now found that he had not a moment to lose. Perils were ac- cumulating thick around him. There were many indications that it might be difficult to carry the army over to his views. On the 4th of April, as he was repairing to a place of rendezvous with the Austrian leaders, the Prince of Coburg and General Mack, a battalion of soldiers, suspecting treachery, endeavored to stop him. He put spurs to his horse and distanced pursuit, while a storm of bullets whistled around his head. lie succeeded, after in- numerable perils, in the circuitous ride of a whole day, in reaching the head- quarters of the Austrians. They received him with great distinction, and offered him the command of a division of their army. After two days' re- flection, he said that it was with the soldiers of France he had hoped to re- store a stable government to his country, accepting the Austrians only as auxiliaries ; but that as a Frenchman he could not march against France at the head of foreigners. He retired to Switzerland. The Duke of Chartres (Louis Philippe), in friendlessness and poverty, followed him, and for some time was obliged to obtain a support by teaching school. The Jacobins now accused their formidable rivals, the Girondists, of being implicated in the conspiracy of Dumouriez. Robespierre, in a speech of the most concentrated and potent malignity, urged that France had relieved her- self of the aristocracy of birth, but that there was another aristocracy, that of wealth, equally to be dreaded, which must be crushed, and that the Gi- rondists were the leaders of this aristocracy. This was most effectually pan- j^gj , THE BEIGN OF TEKROE. 335 derinc. to the passions of the mob, and directing their fury against the Gi. rondiL. The Girondists were now in a state of ternble alarm. They knew Z m.-a -nity of their foes, and eould see but little hope for escape They had ovenurned the throne of despotism, hoping to establish eonst.tufonal liberty : they had only introduced Jacobin phrensy and anarchy Immense crowds of armed men paraded the streets of Pans, surrounded the Conven- tion and demanded yengeanoe against the leaders of the Gironde. ^^ The moderate Eepubtieans, enemies of these acts of v.olence, strmng to stem the torrent, endeavored to carry an act of accusation against Marat. He wis charged with having encouraged assassination and carnage of dis- foWrngtt National Convention, and of having established a power destruc '"Z"Sed to the accusation by summoning the mob to his aid. They assanbledt vast, tumultuous throngs, ^-'^^f^^ ^'^^^'^^^^^Zttll^ trial of a few moments, unanimously acquitted him. This was '•'e /4tn oi Ap if The mob accompanied him back to his seat in the Convent on. He w^ borne in"riumph into the hall in the arms of his confederates, his brow encircled by a wreath of victory. ^, , , „i,„ i,„rA Mirat " we " Citizen President," shouted one of the burly men who bore Marat, we brinSZ the worth; Marat. Marat has always been the friend of he peo- 5™ln'° the people lill always be the friends of Marat. If Marat s head "'tte'u^:2rther:o^ ^hl wished a batt,e.a.e aefi^-ly.^nd tho mob in the aisles and crowded galleries vehement y appl^"d«d^ He to bytXf agairr'a Vecree of aecusatiL. I have come oif victorious. a-.* KotwPPn the Drivileced classes and the enslaved people, * In reference to the temfic conflict between the privilege ^^^ Prof. Smyth writes, " My --'l-""/^. ^^^' ""\'^^Ji^^^^ Temo Ible revolution. No histo- est ri.ht to felicitate ^^^-^te'til^s^inTrott^^^^^^^^^ on the supposition that, while rian, no commentator on these time, can rocee antagonistic faults of the other; he is censuring the faults of the one h - l-[7^y,^j7^\7,.,,dful lesson of instn.ction both to that each party is to take it^ urn ;^-^^^^^^^^^^^ vol. iii., p. 245. , T. 1 ,f;nn hn^ too often been told in this spirit, veiling the atrocities The story of the French Revolution ^^^Z';?^ 7/;" 7,^^ oppressed. While truth demands that of the oppressors and magmfying the ^^^^^^fZ^ ^,,^., should be faithfiUly deUn- all the violence of an enslaved people, "\f ^ '^''^ j;;'^;^^",;il,,,„ess of proud oppressors, crushing tially described. 336 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXII. MAKAT'S TBIDMPn. The faction is humbled, but not crushed. Waste not your time in decree- ing triumphs. Defend yourselves with enthusiasm." Robespierre now demanded an act of accusation against the Girondists. Resistance was hopeless. The inundation of popular fury was at its flood, sweeping every thing before it. The most frightful scenes of tumult took place in the Convention, members endeavoring by violence to pull each oth- er from the tribune.* * In the Convention, each one who addressed the body ascended to a desk on the platform, called the tribune. 1793."^ THE REIGN OF TERROR. 337 ■ The whole Convention was now in a state of dismay, eighty thousand in- furiate men surrounding it with artillery and musketry, declaring that the Convention should not leave its hall until the Girondists were arrested. The Convention, in a body, attempted to leave and force its way through the crowd, but it was ignominiously driven back. Under these circum- stances it was voted that the leaders of the Girondists, twenty-two in num- ber, should be put under arrest. This was the 2d of June, 1793.* The Jacobins, having thus got rid of their enemies, and having the entire control, immediately decided to adopt a new Constitution, still more demo- cratic in its character ; and a committee was appointed to present one within a week. But the same division which existed in the Convention between the Jacobins and the Girondists existed all over France. In many of the departments fierce battles rose between the two parties. In the mean time the Allies were pressing France in all directions. The Austrians and Prussians were advancing upon the north ; the Piedmontese threading the passes of the maritime Alps ; the Spaniards were prepared to rush from the defiles of the Pyrenees, and the fleet of England threatened every where the coast of France on the Mediterranean and the Channel.f With amazing energy the Convention aroused itself to meet these perils. A new Constitution, exceedingly democratic, was framed and adopted. Ev- ery Frenchman twenty -one years of age was a voter. Fifty thousand souls were entitled to a deputy. There was but a single Assembly. Its decrees were immediately carried into execution.:}: Danton, Eobespicrre, and Marat were now the idols of the mob of Paris and the real sovereigns of France. All who ventured opposition to them were proscribed and imprisoned. Members of the Republican or Girondist party every where, all over France, were arrested, or, where they were suffi- ciently numerous to resist, civil war raged. At Caen there was a very beautiful girl, Charlotte Corday, twenty-five years of age, highly educated and accomplished. She was of spotless purity of character, and, with the enthusiasm of Madame Roland, she had espoused the cause of popular constitutional liberty. The principles of the Girondist party she had embraced, and the noble leaders of that party she regarded almost with adoration. When she heard of the overthrow of the Girondists and their imprison- ment, she resolved to avenge them, and hoped that, by striking down the leader of the Jacobins, she might rouse the Girondists scattered over France to rally and rescue liberty and their country. It was a three days' ride in the diligence from Caen to Paris. Arriving at Paris on Thursday the 11th of July, she carefully inspected the state of affairs, that she might select her victim, but confided her design to no one. * Thiers, vol. ii., p. 194. t The Allies acted without union, and, under dispiiise of a holy war, concealed the most self- ish views. The Austrians wanted Valenciennes : the Kinp of Prussia, Mayence ; the English, Dunkirk ; the Piedmontese aspired to recover Chambery and Nice ; the Sj)aniards, the least in- terested of all, had nevertheless some thoughts of Rouissillon. — r/«'c>-.s vol. ii., p. 217. J " As the Constitution thus made over the government to the multitude, as it placed the power in a disorganized body, it would have been at all times imi)ractiiable, but at a period of general warfare it was peculiarly so. Accordingly, it was no sooner made than suspended."— J%7jt/. 338 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXIL Marat appeared to her the most active, formidable, and insatiable in his proscription. She wrote him a note as follows : " Citizen : I have just arrived from Caen. Your love for your country inclines me to suppose you will listen with pleasure to the secret events of that part of the Kepublic. I will present myself at your house. Have the goodness to give orders for my admission, and grant me a moment's private conversation. I can point out the means by which you can render an im- portant service to France." She dispatched this note from her hotel, the Inn de la Providence in the Kue des Vieux Augustins, went to the Palais Koyal and purchased a large sheath knife, and, taking a hackney-coach, drove to the residence of Marat, No. 4A Rue de I'Ecole de Medecine. It was Saturday night. Marat was taking a bath and reading by a light which stood upon a three-footed stool. He heard the rap of Charlotte, and called aloud to the woman who, as serv- ant and mistress, attended him, and requested that she might be admitted. Marat was a man of the most restless activity. Eagerly he inquired re- specting the proscribed at Caen and of others who were opposed to Jacobin rule. Charlotte, while repl3'ing coolly, measured with her eye the spot she should strike with the knife. As she mentioned some names, he eagerly seized a pencil and began to write them down, saying, " They shall all go to the guillotine." "To the guillotine?" exclaimed Charlotte, and, instantly drawing the knife from her bosom, plunged it to the handle directly in his heart. The miserable man uttered one frantic shriek of "Help!" and fell back dead into the water. The paramour of Marat and a serving-man rushed in, knocked Charlotte down with a chair, and trampled upon her. A crowd soon assembled. Without the slightest perturbation she avowed the deed. Her youth and beauty alone saved her from being torn in pieces. Soldiers soon arrived and conveyed her to prison. " The way to avenge Marat," exclaimed Robespierre from the tribune in tones which caused France to tremble, "is to strike down his enemies with- out mercy." The remains of the wretched man, whom all the world now execrates, were buried with the highest possible honors. His funeral at midnight, as all Paris seemed to follow him to his grave in a torch-light procession, was one of the most imposing scenes of the Revolution. On Wednesday morning Charlotte was led to the Revolutionary Tribunal in the Palace of Justice. She appeared there dignified, calm, and beautiful. The indictment was read, and they were beginning to introduce their wit- nesses, when Charlotte said, " These delays are needless. It is I that killed Marat," There was a moment's pause, and many deplored the doom of one so youth- ful and lovely. At last the president inquired, " By whose instigation?" " By that of no one," was the laconic reply. "What tempted you?" inquired the president. "His crimes," Charlotte answered; and then, continuing in tones of firm- ness and intensity which silenced and overawed all present, she said, "I killed one man, to save a hundred thousand; a villain, to save the 1793.] THE REIGN OF TERROR. S39 CUAELOTTE OOEDAY AREESTKD. innocent ; a savage "wild beast, to give repose to my country. I was a Re- publican before tbe Revolution. I never wanted energy."* She listened to her doom of immediate death with a smile, and was con- ducted back to the prison, to be led from thence to the guillotine. A little after seven o'clock on this same evening a cart issued from the Concierge- rie, bearing Charlotte, in the red robe of a murderess, to the guillotine. A vast throng crowded the streets, most of whom assailed her with howls and execrations. She looked upon them with a serene smile, as if she were rid- ing on an excursion of pleasure. She was bound to the plank. The gUt- tering axe glided through the grove, and the executioner, lifting her severed head, exhibited it to the people, and then brutally struck the cheek. Robespierre and Danton, the idols of the mob, now divided the supreme power between them. The organization of a revolutionary government was simply the machine by means of which they operated. On the 10th of August there was another magnificent festival in Paris to commemorate the adoption of the Jacobin Constitution. The celebrated painter David arranged the fete with great artistic skill, and again all Paris, though on the verge of ruin, was in a blaze of illumination and in a roar of triumph. The Austrian armies were now within fifteen days' march of Paris, and there was no organized force which could effectually arrest their progress. But the fear of the old Bourbon despotism rallied the masses to maintain, in preference, even the horrors of Jacobin ferocity. The aristocrats crushed the people; the Jacobins crushed the aristocrats. The populace naturally preferred the latter rule. * Proces de Charlotte Corday (Hist. Pari., vol. xxviii., p. 311, 338). 340 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXXII. And now France rose, as a nation never rose before. At tlie motion of Danton it was decreed on the 23rd of August, " From this moment until when the enemy shall be driven from the ter- ritory of the French Eepublic, all the French shall be in permanent requisi- tion for the service of the armies. The young men shall go forth to fight. The married men shall forge the arms and transport the supplies. The women shall make tents and clothes, and attend on the hospitals. The children shall make lint out of rags ; the old men shall cause themselves to be carried to the public places, to excite the courage of the warriors, to preach hatred of kings and love of the Republic." lUSOB OF TOLITNTSKSa. 1793.] THE REIGN OF TERROR. 341 All unmarried men or widowers without children, between the ages of eighteen and twenty -five, were to assemble at appointed rendezvous and march immediately. This act raised an army of one million two hundred thousand men. The men between twenty-five and thirty were to hold them- selves in readiness to follow. And those between thirty and sixty were to be prepared to obey orders whenever they should be summoned to the field. There is sublimity, at least, in such energy. All France was instantly converted into a camp, resounding with prepa- rations for war. In La Vendee the friends of the Bourbons had rallied. The Convention decreed its utter destruction, the death of every man, con- flagration of the dwellings, destruction of the crops, and the removal of the women and children to some other province, where they should be support- ed at the expense of the government. It was sternly resolved that no mercy whatever should be shown to Frenchmen who were co-operating with for- eigners to rivet anew upon France the chains of Bourbon despotism. These decrees were executed with merciless fidelity. The illustrious Carnot, who, to use his own words, " had the ambition of the three hundred Spartans, going to defend Thermopyla3," organized and disciplined fourteen armies, and selected for them able leaders. m ^fliks^-V / t-'f1:V^4i^ ,11' i <\: -^-^ KXEOUnON IN LA VE>T)£k. While matters were in this condition, the inhabitants of Marseilles, Lyons, and Toulon rose, overpowered the Jacobins, and, raising the banner of the Bourbons, invited the approach of the Allies. Toulon was the naval arsenal of France, a large French fleet crowded its port, and its warehouses were filled with naval stores. Lord Hood, with an English squadron, was cruis- ing off the coast. The Royalists, Admiral Troyoff at their head, gave the signal to the English, and basely surrendered to them the forts, shipping, and stores. It was a fearful loss to the Revolutionists. Lord Hood, the British admiral, immediately entered with his fleet took possession, and issued a proclamation in which he said, " Considering that the sections of Toulon have, bj^ the commissioners 342 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. ^ [ChAP. XXXIl. whom they have sent to me, made a solemn declaration in favor of Louis XVII. and a monarchical government, and that they will use their utmost efforts to break the chains which fetter their country, and re-establish the Constitution as it was accepted by their defanct sovereign in 1789, I repeat by this present declaration that I take possession of Toulon, and shall keep it solely as a deposit for Louis XVII., and that only till peace is re-estab- lished in France."* An army of sixty thousand men was sent against rebellious Lyons. The city, after a prolonged siege and the endurance of innumerable woes, was captured. The Convention decreed that it should be utterly destroyed, and that over its ruins should be reared a monument with the inscription, " Lyons made ivar upon Liberty: Lyons is no moreP' The cruelties inflicted upon the Koyalists of this unhappy city are too painful to contemplate. The imagination can hardly exaggerate them. Fouche and Collot d'Her- bois, the prominent agents in this bloody vengeance, were atheists. In contempt of Christianity, they ordered the Bible and the Cross to be borne through the streets on an ass ; the ass was compelled to drink of the conse- crated wine from the communion-cup. Six thousand of the citizens of Lyons perished in these sanguinary persecutions, and twelve thousand were driven into exile. The Revolutionary Tribunal was active night and day coiidemning to death. One morning a young girl rushed into the hall, ex- claiming, " There remain to me, of all our family, only my brothers. Mother, fath- er, sisters, uncles — you have butchered all. And now you are going to con- demn my brothers. In mercy ordain that I may ascend the scaffold with them." Her prayer of anguish was refused, and the poor child threw herself into the Ehone. The Eoyalist insurrection in La Vendee, after a long and terrible conflict, was crushed out. No language can describe the horrors of vengeance which ensued. The tale of brutality is too awful to be told. Demons could not have been more infernal in mercilessness. " Death by fire and the sword," writes Lamartine, " made a noise, scat- tered blood, and left bodies to be buried and be counted. The silent waters of the Loire were dumb and would render no account. The bottom of the sea alone would know the number of the victims. Carrier caused mariners to be brought as pitiless as himself He ordered them, without much mys- tery, to pierce plug-holes in a certain number of decked vessels, so as to sink them with their living cargoes in parts of the river. " These orders were first executed secretly and under the color of acci- dents of navigation. But soon these naval executions, of which the waves of the Loire bore witness even to its mouth, became a spectacle for Carrier and for his courtiers. He furnished a galley of pleasure, of which he made a present to his accomplice Lambertye, under pretext of watching the banks of the river. This vessel, adorned with all the delicacies of furniture, pro- vided with all the wines and all the necessaries of feasting, became the most * After the death of Louis XVI. the Royalists considered the young Dauphin, then imprisoned in the tower, as the legitimate king, with the title of Louis XVII. 1793.] THE REIGN OF TERROR. 343 A68AORE8 IN LYONS. aeneral theatre of these exeeutions. Carrier embarked berem sometimes h m^Sf "is executioners and his courtesans to make tnps upon the wate While he yielded himself up to the joys of love and wme on deek rvietil ineloseJ in the hold ^ -a ^^^^^^^ZZ:^ t r; tllt .Ss^o-?^": Sl^Utbld^ tbel last u^nder their feet. Thev continued their orgies upon this floating sepulchre. "Some mis Carrier, Lambertye, and their accomplices rejoiced in the CTueKnrof this spectacle of agony. They caused victims of either sex r^uplTto mount upon the deek. Stripped of their garments, they bound 344 THE FKENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXXII. them face to face, one to the other — a priest with a nun, a young man with a young girl. They suspended them, thus naked and interlaced, by a cord passed under the shoulders through a block of the vessel. They sported with horrible sarcasms on this parody of marriage in death, and then flung the victims into the river. This cannibal sport was termed ' Eepubhcan Marriages.' " DEOWTSING VICTIMS IN TUB LOIEE. Eobespierre, informed of these demoniac deeds, recalled Carrier, but he did not dare to bring an act of accusation against the wretch, lest he should peril his own head by being charged with sympathy with the Eoyalists. It is grateful to record that Carrier himself was eventually conducted, amid the execrations of the community, to the scaffold.* Q The prisons of Paris were now filled with victims. Municipal instruc- tions, issued by Chaumette, catalogued as follows those who should be ar- rested as suspected persons : 1. Those who, by crafty addresses, check the energy of the people. 2. Those who mysteriously deplore the lot of the people, and propagate bad news with affected grief. 3. Those who, silent respecting the faults of the Eoyalists, declaim against the faults of the Patri- ots. 4. Those who pity those against whom the law is obliged to take measures. 5. Those who associate with aristocrats, priests, and moderates, * Carrier was heard to say one clay, while hrcakfastiriR in a restaurant, that France was too densely populated for a republic, and that it was necessary to kill off at least one third of the in- habitants before they could have a good government. It is estimated that fifteen thousand were massacred in La Vcude'c at his command. 1793.] EXECUTION OF MARIE ANTOINETTE AND MADAME ELIZABETH. 345 and take an interest in their fate. 6. Those who have not taken an active part in the Revolution. 7. Those who have received the Constitution with indifference and have expressed fears njspecting its duration. 8. Those who, though they have done nothing aganist liberty, have done nothing for it. 9. Those who do not attend the sections. 10. Those who speak con- temptuously of the constituted authorities. 11. Those who have signed counter-revolutionary petitions. 12. The partisans of La Fayette, and those who marched to the charge in the Champ de Mars. There were but few persons in Paris who were not liable to be arrested, by the machinations of any enem}'', upon some one of these charges. Many thousands were soon incarcerated. The prisons of the Maire, La Force, the Conciergerie, the Abba3^e, St. Pelagie, and the Madelonettes were crowded to their utmost capacity. Then large private mansions, the College of Du- plessis, and finally the spacious Palace of the Luxembourg were converted into prisons, and were filled to suffocation with the suspected. In these abodes, surrendered to filth and misery, with nothing but straw to lie upon, the most brilliant men and women of Paris were huddled together with the vilest outcasts. After a time, however, those who had property were per- mitted to surround themselves with such comforts as their means would command. From these various prisons those who were to be tried before the Revolutionary Tribunal were taken to the Conciergerie, which adjoined the Palace of Justice, where the tribunal held its session. A trial was al- most certain condemnation, and the guillotine knew no rest. Miserable France was now surrendered to the Reign of Terror, The mob had become the sovereign. CHAPTER XXXIIL EXECUTION OF MARIE ANTOINETTE AND MADAME ELIZABETH. Marie Antoinette in the Temple. — Conspiracies for the Rescue of the Royal Family. — The young Dauphin torn from his Mother. — Phrensy of the Queen. — She is removed to the Conciergerie. — Indignities and Woes. — The Queen led to Trial. — Letter to her Sister. — The Execution of the Queen. — Madame Elizabeth led to Trial and E.xecution. — Fate of the Princess and the Dauphin. The populace now demanded the head of Marie Antoinette, whom they had long been taught implacably to hate.* "We left her on tlie 21st of * Thomas Jefferson, during his residence in Paris, formed a very unfavorable opinion of Marie Antoinette. Speaking of the good intentions of Louis XVI., he says, "But lie had a queen of absolute sway over his weak mind and timid virtue, and of a character the reverse of his in ail jioints. This angel, as gaudily ]iainted in the rliajisodies of Burke with some smartness of fancy but no sound sense, was ])roud, disdainful of restraint, indignant at all obstacles to her will, eager, in ])ursuit of pleasure, and firm enough to hold to her desires or perish in their wreck. Her inor- dinate gamblings and dissipations, with those of the Count d'Artois and others of her clique, had been a sensible item in the exhaustion of the treasuiy, which called into action the reforming hand of the nation ; and her opposition to it, her inflexible perverseness and dauntless spirit led herself to the guillotine, drew the king on with her, and ])Iunged the world into crimes and ca- lamities which will for ever stain the pages of modern history. I have ever believed that had there been no queen there would have been no revolution. The king woidd have gone hand in hand with the wisdom of bis sounder counselors, who, guided by the increased lights of the age, Vol. II.— E 346 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [CHAr. XXXIII. Janaary in the Temple, overwlielmed with agony. Swoon succeeded swoon as she listened to the clamor in the streets which accompanied her husband to the guillotine. The rumbling of the cannon, on their return, and the shouts of Vive la Repuhlique beneath her windows announced that the trag- edy was terminated. The Commune cruelly refused to allow her any details of the last hours of the king, and even Clery, his faithful servant, was im- prisoned, so that he could not even place in her hands the lock of hair and the marriage ring which the king had intrusted to him. Many conspiracies were formed for the rescue of the royal family, which led to a constant increase of the rigors of their captivity. The queen refused to resume her walks in the garden as she could not endure to pass the door of the king's apartment. But, after long seclusion, for the sake of the health of her children she consented to walk with them each day, for a few mo- ments, on the platform of the tower. The Commune immediately ordered the platform to be surrounded with high boards, so that the captives might not receive any tokens of recognition from their friends. For four months Marie Antoinette, Madame Elizabeth, and the children had the consolation of condoling with each other in their misery. But on the night of the 4th of July the clatter of an armed band was heard ascend- ing the tower, and some commissioners tumultuously entered her chamber. They read to her a decree announcing that her son, the dauphin, was to be taken from her and imprisoned by himself. The poor child, as he listened to the reading of this cruel edict, was frantic with terror. He threw himself into his mother's arms and shrieked out, " Oh ! mother, mother, do not abandon me to those men. They will kill me as they did papa." The queen, in a delirium of agony, grasped her child and placing him upon the bed behind her, with ej^es glaring like a tigress, bade defiance to the officers, declaring that they should tear her in pieces before they should take her boy. Even the officers were overcome by her heart-rending grief, and for two hours refrained from taking the child by violence. The ex- hausted mother at length fell in a swoon, and the child was taken, shrieking with terror, from the room. She never saw her son again. A few weeks of woe passed slowly away, when, early in August, she was awakened from her sleep just after midnight by a band of armed men who came to convey her to the prison of the Conciergerie, where she was to await her trial. The queen had already drained the cup of misery to the dregs, and nothing could add to her woe. She rose, in the stupor of despair, and began to dress herself in the presence of the officers. Her daughter and Madame Elizabeth threw themselves at the feet of the men, and implored wished only, with the same pace, to advance the jirincijilos of thoir social Constitution. The deed which closed the mortal course of these sovereijins I shall neither aj)prove nor condemn." — Life of Jefferson, by Randall, vol i., j). 533. As Jefferson was intimate with La Fayette and other jirominent jrapular leaders, it is evident that these views were those which were generally entertained of the queen at that time. It is deeply to be regretted that no subsequent develofjuients can lead one to doubt that they were es- sentially correct. Wliile we weep over the woes of the queen we must not forpet that she was endeavoring with all her energy to rivet the chains of unlimited despotism upon twenty-five mil- lions of people. 1793.] EXECUTION OF MARIE ANTOINETTE AND MADAME ELIZABETH. 347 them not to take the queen from them. They might as well have plead with the granite blocks of their prison. Pressing Ikt daughter for a moment convulsively to her heart, she cov- ered her with kisses, spoke a few words of impassioned tenderness to her sister, and then, as if fearing to cast a last look upon these objects of her af- fection, hurried from the room. In leaving she struck her forehead against the beam of the low door. "Did you hurt yourself?" inquired one of the men. " Oh no !" was her reply, " nothing now can farther harm me." A carriage was waiting I'or her at the door. Escorted by fjcns cVarmes she was conducted, through the gloom of midnight, to the dungeon where she she was to await her condemnation. The world-renowned prison of the Conciergerie consists of a series of sub- terranean dungeons beneath the floor of the Palais de Justice. More gloomy tombs the imagination can hardly conceive. Down the dripping and slimy steps the queen was led, by the light of a tallow candle, until, through a labyrinth of corridors, she approached the iron door of her dungeon. The rusty hinges grated ;is \\\o. (looi- wiis opened, and she was thrust in. Two ^^ \^^ ■ "II n|,IIW« MlUlllflll) ,|y. MABIE ANTOINETTE IN THE OONOIEBOERIE, soldiers accompanied her, with drawn swoids, and who were commanded, in defiance of all the instincts of delicacy, not to allow her to be one moment absent from their sight. The one candle gave just light enough to reveal the horrors of her cell. The floor was covered with mud, and streams of water trickled down the stone walls. A miserable pallet, with a dirty cov- 348 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChaP. XXXIII. ering of coarse and tattered cloth, a small pine table, and a chair constituted the only furniture. So deep was the fall from the saloons of Versailles, Here the queen remained for two months, her misery being slightly alle- viated by the kind-heartedness of Madame Eichard, the wife of the jailer, who did every thing the rigorous rules would admit to mitigate her woes. "With her own hand she prepared food for the queen, obtained for her a few articles of furniture, and communicated to her daily such intelligence as she could obtain of her sister and her children. The friends of the queen were untiring in their endeavors, by some conspiracy, to effect her release. A gentleman obtained admittance to the queen's cell, and presented her with a rose, containing a note hidden among its petals. One of the ge7is cfarmes de- tected the attempt; and the jailer and his wife, for their suspected conniv- ance, were both arrested and thrown into the dungeons. Other jailers were provided for the prison, M, and Madame Bault; but they also had humane hearts, and wept over the woes of Marie Antoinette. The queen's wardrobe consisted only of two robes, one white, one black, and three chemises. From the humidity of her cell these rapidly decayed, with her shoes and stockings, and fell into tatters. Madame Bault was permitted to assist the queen in mending these, but was not allowed to furnish any new apparel. Books and writing materials were also prohibited. With the point of her needle she kept a brief memorandum of events on the stucco of her walls, and also inscribed brief lines of poetry and sentences from Scripture. On the 14th of October the queen was conducted from her dungeon to the halls above for trial. Surrounded by a strong escort, she was led to the bench of the accused. Her accusation was that she abhorred the Eevolution which had beheaded her husband and plunged her whole family into unut- terable woe. The queen was dressed in the garb of extreme poverty. Grief had whit- ened her hair, and it was fast falling from her head. Her eyes were sunken, and her features wan and wasted with woe. " What is your name?" inquired one of the judges. " I am called Marie Antoinette of Lorraine, in Austria," answered the queen, " What is your condition ?" was the next question. "I am widow of Louis, formerly King of the French," was the reply. " What is your age ?" " Thirty-seven." The long act of accusation was then read. Among other charges was the atrocious one of attempting, by depravity and debauchery, to corrupt her own son, "with the intention of enervating the soul and body of that child, and of reigning, in his name, over the ruin of his understanding." The queen recoiled from this charge with a gesture of horror, and, when asked why she did not reply to the accusation, she said, "I have not answered it because there are accusations to which nature re- fuses to reply, I appeal to all mothers if such a crime be possible." The trial continued for two days. When all the accusations had been heard, the queen was asked if she had any thing to say. She replied. 1793.] EXECUTION OF MARIE ANTOINETTE AND MADAME ELIZABETH. 349 » I was a queen, and you took away my crown; a wife, and you killed my husband ; a mother, and you deprived me of my chddren. My blood alone remains. Take it ; but do not make me suffer long. TBIAL OF MAEIB ANTOtNETTE. At four o'clock on the morning of tte 16th she listened to her sentence condemning her to die. In the dignity of silence and without the tremor of a Zcle she accepted her doom. As she was led from the court-room to her cUnweon, to prepare for her execution, the brutal populace, with stamp- ings and clampings, applauded the sentence. Being indulged with pen and paper in these last hours, she wrote as follows to her sister: "October 16th, half past four in the morning. " I write you, my sister, for the last time. I have been condemned, not ,0 an ignomhiio'us death-that only awaits eriminals-but to g" and rqoia vour brother. Innocent as he, I hope to show the same Annness as he chd in these last moments. I grieve bitterly at leaving my PO"-, •^'^''d, ^" • JJ know that I existed but for them and you-you who have, by your friend- ship, sacrificed all to be with us. In what a position do I leave you. I have learned, by the pleadings on my trial, that my daughter was separated fromvou. Alas! my poor child. I dare not wnte to her. She could not 350 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXIII. receive my letter. I know not even if this may reacli you. Receive my blessing for both. " I hope one day, when they are older, they may rejoin you and rejoice in liberty at your tender care. May their friendship and mutual confidence form their happiness. May my daughter feel that, at her age, she ought al- ways to aid her brother with that advice with which the greater experience she possesses and her friendship should inspire her. May my son, on his part, render to his sister every care and service which affection can dictate. Let my son never forget the last words of his father. I repeat them to him expressly. Let hirtx never attempt to avenge our deaths Having finished the letter, which was long, she folded it and kissed it re- peatedly, "as if she could thus transmit the warmth of her lips and the moisture of her tears to her children." She then threw herself upon the pallet and slept quietly for two or three hours. A few rays of morning light were now struggling in through the grated bars of the window. The daughter of Madame Bault came in to dress her for the guillotine. She put on her white robe. A white handkerchief covered her shoulders, and a white cap, bound around her temples by a black ribbon, covered her hair. It was a cold autumnal morning, and a chill fog filled the streets of Paris. At eleven o'clock the executioners led her from her cell. She cordially embraced the kind-hearted daughter of the concierge, and, having with her own hands cut off her hair, allowed herself to be bound, without a murmur, and issued from the steps of the Conciergerie. Instead of a carriage, the coarse car of the condemned awaited her at the gateway of the prison. For a moment she recoiled from this unanticipated humiliation, but immediately recoverinsf herself she ascended the cart. There was no seat in the car, and, as her hands were bound behind her, she was unable to support her- self from the jolting over the pavement. As she was jostled rudely to and fro, in the vain attempt to preserve her equilibrium, the multitudes throng- ing the streets shouted in derision. They had been taught to hate her, to regard her not only as the implacable foe of popular liberty, which she was, but as the most infamous of women, which she was not. " These," they cried, "are not your cushions of Trianon." ' It was a long ride to the scaffold, during which the queen suffered all that insult, derision, and contumely can inflict. The procession crossed the Seine by the Pont au Change^ and traversed the Rva St. Honore. Upon reaching the Place of the Revolution the cart stopped for a moment near the entrance of the garden of the Tuileries. Marie Antoinette for a few moments contemplated in silence those scenes of former happiness and grandeur. A few more revolutions of the wheels placed her at the foot of the guillotine. She mounted to the scaffold, and inadvertently trod upon the foot of the executioner. •'Pardon me," said the queen, with as much courtesy as if she had been in one of the saloons of Versailles. Kneeling, she uttered a brief prayer, and then, turning her eyes to the distant towers of the Temple, she said, " Adieu, once again, my children ; I go to rejoin your father." She was bound to the plank, and as it sank to its place the gleaming axe 1793.] EXECUTION OF MARIE ANTOINETTE AND MADAME ELIZABETH. 351 slid through the groove, and the head of the queen fell into the basket. The executioner seized the gory trophy by the hair, and, walking around the scaftbld, exhibited it to the crowd. One long cry of Vive la Repuhlique! arose, and the crowd dispersed. While these fearful scenes were passing, Madame Elizabeth and the princess remained in the tower of the Temple. Their jailers were com- manded to give them no information whatever. The young dauphin was imprisoned by himself. Six months of gloom and anguish which no pen can describe passed away, when, on the night of the 9th of May, 1794, as Madame Elizabeth and the young princess, Maria Theresa, were retiring to bed, a band of armed men, with lanterns, broke into their room, and said to Madame Elizabeth, " You must immediately go with us." "And my niece?" anxiously inquired the meek and pious aunt, ever for- getful of self in her solicitude for others, " Can she go too ?" " We want you only now. We will take care of her by-and-by," was the unfeeling answer. The saint-like Madame Elizabeth saw that the long-dreaded hour of sep- aration had come, and that her tender niece was to be left, unprotected and alone, exposed to the brutality of her jailers. She pressed Maria Theresa to her bosom, and wept in uncontrollable grief. But still, endeavoring to comfort the heart-stricken child, she said, " I shall probably soon return again, my dear Maria." " No, you won't, citoyenne," rudely interrupted one of the officers. " You will never ascend these stairs again. So take your bonnet, and come down." The soldiers seized her, led her down the stairs, and thrust her into a carriage. It was midnight. Driving violently through the streets, they soon reached the gateway of the Conciergerie. The Revolutionary Tribu- nal was, even at that hour, in session. The princess was dragged immedi- ately to their bar. With twenty -four others of all ages and both sexes, she was condemned to die. Her crime was that she was sister of the king, and in heart hostile to the Revolution. She was led to one of the dungeons to be dressed for the scaffold. In this hour Christian faith was triumphant. Trusting in God, all her sorrows vanished, and her soul was in perfect peace. With her twenty-two companions, all of noble birth, she was placed in the cart of the condemned, her hands bound behind her, and conducted to the guillotine. Madame Elizabeth was reserved to the last. One by one her companions were led up the scaffold before her, and she saw their heads drop into the basket. She then peacefully placed her head upon the pillow of death, and passed away, one of the purest and yet most suffering of earthly spirits, to the bosom of her God. The 3'oung dauphin lingered for eighteen months in his cell, suffering in- conceivable cruelties from his jailer, a wretch by the name of Simon, until he died on the 9th of June, 1795, in the tenth year of his age. Maria The- resa now alone remained of the family of Louis XVI. She had now been in prison more than two years. At length, so much sympathy was excited in behalf of this suffering child, that the Assembly consented to exchange her with the Austrian government for four French officers. 362 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXXllL LOinS XVII. IN PRISON. On the 19th of December, 1795, she was led from the Temple, and, ample arrangements having been made for her journey, she was conducted, with every mark of respect and sympatli}'', to the frontiers. In the Austrian court, love and admiration encircled her. But this stricken child of grief had received wounds which time could never entirely heal. A full year passed before a smile could ever be won to visit her cheek. She subse- quently married her cousin, the Duke of Angouleme, son of Charles X. With the return of the Bourbons she returned to her ancestral halls of the Tuileries and Versailles. But upon the second expulsion of the Bourbons she fled with them, and died, a few years ago, at an advanced age, univer sally respected. Such was the wreck of the royal family of France by the storm of revolution. 1793.] THE JACOBINS TRIUMPHANT. 353 CHAPTER XXXIY. THE JACOBINS TRIUMPHANT. Views of the Girondists. — Anecdote of Verpniaud. — Tlie Girondists brought to Trial. — Suicide of Vahize'. — Anguisii of Dcsnioulins. — Fonfrcde and Ducos. — Last Sii])))er of the Girondists. — Their Execution. — Tlie Duke of Oilcans; liis Execution. — Activity <.f the Guillotine. — Hu- mane Legislation. — Testimony of Dcsodoards. — Ainicharsis Cloots. — The New Era. The Jacobins now resolved to free themselves fiom all internal foes, that they might more vigorously cope with all Euro})e in arms against them. Marie Antoinette was executed the IGtli of October. On the 22d, the Gi- rondists, twenty-two in number, were brought before the Revolutionary Tri- bunal. They were the most illustrious men of the most noble party to which the Revolution had given birth. I'hc}^ had demolished a despotic throne that they might establish a constitutional monarchy upon the model of that of England.* With great genei'osity thoy had placed Louis XVI. on that throne, and he had feigned to acce})t the Constitution. But with hypocrisy which even his subsequent woes can not obliterate, he secretly rallied his nobles around him, or rather allowed them to use him as their leader, and appealed to the armies of foreign despotisms to overthrow the free Consti- tution and re-establish the old feudal tyranny. "The question thenceforth wa.s, whether their sons should, as in times past (as in Mr. Burke's splendid Age of Chivalry), be sent to manure Eu^ rope with their bodies, in wars undertaken at the nod of a courtesan — ^\ whether their wives and daughters, cursed with beauty enough to excite a transient emotion of sensuality, should be lured and torn from them and de-, bauched — whether every man who dared to utter a manly political thoughtN or to assert his rights against rank should be imprisoned at pleasure without a hearing — whether the toiling masses, for the purpose of supporting lasciv- ious splendor, of building Pares avx Cerfs, of pt'usioning discarded mistresses,! of swiftly enriching corrupt favorites and minions of every stamp, should be so taxed that the light and air of heaven hardly came to them untaxed, and that they should be so sunk by exactions of every kind in the dregs of indi- gence that a short crop compelled them to live on food that the hounds, if not the swine, of their task-masters would reject; and, finally, whether, when, in the bloody sweat of their agony, they asked some mitigation of their hard fate, they .should be answered by the bayonets of foreign mercenaries ; and a people — stout manhood, gentle womanhood, gray-haired age, and tender in- * La Fayette was an illustrious member of this party. Even Jefferson advised to make the English Constitution the model for France. He was present at the opening of the Assembly of Notables, and soon after wrote to La Fayette, "Keeping the good model of your neighboring country before your eyes, yon may get on step by step toward a good Constitution. Though that model is not perfect, yet, as it would unite more suffrages than any new one which could be pro- posed, it is better to make that the object." — Life of Thomas Jefferson, by Henry S. Randall, Tol. i., p. 406. z 354 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXIV. fancy, turned their pale faces upward and shrieked for food, fierce, licentious nobles should scornfully bid them eat grass."* In this terrible dilemma, the Girondists felt compelled to abandon the newly-established Constitutional monarchy, which had proved treacherous to its trust, and to fall back upon a republic, as their only asylum from de- struction, and as the only possible refuge for French liberty. But the popu. lace of France, ignorant and irreligious, were unfitted for a republic. Uni- versal suffrage threw the power into the hands of millions of newly-emanci- pated slaves. Violence and blood commenced their reign. The Girondists in vain endeavored to stem the flood. They were overwhelmed. Such is their brief history. The Girondists had been for some time confined in the dungeons of the Conciergerie. They were in a state of extreme misery. Vergniaud, one of the most noble and eloquent of men, was their recognized leader. His brother-in-law, M. Alluaud, came to the prison to bring him some money. A child of M. Alluaud, ten years of age, accompanied his father. Seeing his uncle with sunken eyes and haggard cheeks and disordered hair, and with his garments falling in tatters around him, the child was terrified, and, bursting into tears, clung to his father's knees. "My child," said Vergniaud, taking him in his lap, "look well at me. When 3'ou are a man you can say that you saw Vergniaud, the founder of the Eepublic, at the most glorious period, and in the most splendid costume he ever wore — that in which he suffered the persecution of wretches, and in which he prepared to die for liberty." The child remembered these words, and repeated them fifty years after to Lamartine. At ten o'clock in the morning of the 26th of October the ac- cused were brought before the Revolutionary Tribunal. Two files of gens (Tarmes conducted them into the hall of audience and placed them on the prisoners' bench. f The act of accusation^ drawn up by Eobespierre and St. Just,:}: from an exceedingly envenomed pamphlet written by Camille Desmou- lins, entitled History of the Faction of the Gironde, was long and bitter. The trial lasted several days. On the 30th of October, at eight o'clock in the evening, the debate was closed. At midnight they were summoned to the bar to hear the verdict of the jury. It declared them all guilty of treason, and condemned them to die in the morning. One of the condemned, Valaze, immediately plunged a concealed poniard into his heart, and fell dead upon the floor. Camille Desmoulins, on hearing the verdict, was overwhelmed with remorse, and cried out, " It is my pamphlet which has killed them. "Wretch that I am, I can not * Henry S. Randall, Life of Jefferson, vol. i., p. 529. t " Never since the Knights Templar had a party appeared more numerous, more illustrious, or more eloquent. The renown of tlic accused, their long possession of power, their present dan- ger, and that love of vengeance which arises in men's hearts at the spectacle of mighty reverses of fortune, had collected a crowd in the precincts of the Revolutionary Tribunal. A strong armed force surrounded the gates of the Conciergerie and the Palais de Justice. The cannon, the uni- forms, the sentinels, the gens darmes, the naked sabres, all announced one of those political crises in which a trial is a battle and justice an execution." — Hist. Gir., Lamartine, vol. ii., p. 169. X Such is the statement of Lamartine. Thiers, however, says that the act was drawn up by Amar, a barrister of Grenoble. 1793.] THE JACOBINS TRIUAIPHANT. 355 bear the sight of my work. I feel their blood fall on the hand that has de- nounced them." There were two brothers, Fonfrede and Ducos, among the condemned, sit- ting side by side, both under twenty-eight years of age. Fonfrede threw his afms around the neck of Ducos, and bursting into tears said, " My dear brother,! cause your death ; but we shall die together." Vergniaud sat in silence, with an expression of proud defiance and con- tempt. Lasource repeated the sententious saying of one of the ancients, " I die on the day when the people have lost their reason. You will die when they have recovered it." As they left the court to return to their cells, there to prepare for the guillotine, they spontaneously struck up together the hymn of the Marseillais : "Allons, onfans de la patrie, Le jour de gloire est arriv^ ; Centre nous de la tyrannic L'etendard sanglant est leve."* As they passed along the corridors of the prison, their sublime requiem echoed along the gloomy vaults, and awoke the sleepers in the deepest dun- geons. They were all placed in one large room opening into several cells. The lifeless body of Valaze was deposited in one of the corners ; for, by a decree of the Tribunal, his remains were to be taken in the cart of the con- demned to be beheaded with the rest. A sumptuous banquet was sent in to them by their friends as their last repast. The table was richly spread, dec- orated with flowers, and supplied with all the delicacies which Paris could furnish. A Constitutional priest, the Ahh6 Lambert, a friend of the Girond- ists, had obtained admission to the prison, to administer to them the last sup- ports of religion and to accompany them to the guillotine. To him we are indebted for the record of these last scenes. Vergniaud, thirty-five years of age, presided. He had but little to bind him to life, having neither father nor mother, wife nor child. In quietness and with subdued tones they partook of their repast. When the cloth was removed, and the flowers and the wine alone remained, the conversation be- came more animated. The young men attempted with songs and affected gayety to disarm death of its terror ; but Vergniaud, rallying to his aid his marvelous eloquence, endeavored to recall them to more worthy thoughts. " My friends," said he, sorrowing more over the misfortunes of the Repub- lic than over his own, " we have killed the tree by pruning it. It was too aged. The soil is too weak to nourish the roots of civic liberty. This peo- ple is too childish to wield its laws without hurting itself. It will return to its kings as babes return to their toys. We were deceived as to the age in which we were born and in which we die for the freedom of the world." "What shall we be doing to-morrow at this time?" asked Ducos. Each answered according to Lis skepticism or his faith. Vergniaud again spake. "Never," says the Abbe Lambert, "had his look, his gesture, his language, "Come, children of your country, come, The day of plory dawns on high, And tyranny has wide unfurl'd Hor blood-stained banner in the sky." 856 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXXIV. and his voice more profoundly affected his hearers." His discourse was of the immortality of the soul, to which all listened deeply moved, and many wept. A few rays of morning light now began to struggle in at their dungeon windows. The executioners soon entered to cut oft' their hair and robe them for the scaffold. At ten o'clock they were marched in a column to the gate of the prison, where carts, surrounded by an immense crowd, awaited them. As they entered the carts they all commenced singing in chorus the Mar- seilles Hymn, and continued the impassioned strains until they reached the scaffold. One after another they ascended the scaffold. Sillery was the first THK OIEONDISTS ON TUEIB WAY TO EXECUTION, 1793.] THE JACOBINS TRIUMPHANT. 357 who ascended. He was bound to the phmk, but continued in a full, strong voice to join in the song, till the glittering axe glided down the groove and his head dropped into the basket. Each one followed his example. The song grew fainter as head after head fell, till at last one voice only remained. It was that of Vergniaud. As he was bound to the plank he commenced anew the strain, " Allons, cnfans do la patrie, Le jour de gloirc est arrive." The axe fell, and the lips of Vergniaud were silent in death. In thirty-one minutes the executioner had beheaded them all. Their bodies were thrown into one cart, and were cast into a grave by the side of that of Louis XVL* On the 6th of November the Duke of Orleans was taken from prison and led before the Tribunal. As there was no serious charge to be brought against him, he had not apprehended condemnation. But he was promptly doomed to die. As he was conducted back to his cell to prepare for imme- diate death, he exclaimed, in the utmost excitement of indignation, " The wretches ! I have given them all — rank, fortune, ambition, honor, the future reputation of my house — and this is the recompense they reserve for me !" At three o'clock he was placed in the cart with three other condemned prisoners. The prince was elegantly attired and all eyes were riveted upon him. With an air of indifference he gazed upon the crowd, saying nothing which could reveal the character of his thoughts. On mounting the scaffold the executioner wished to draw off his boots. "No, no," said the duke, "j^ou will do it more easily afterward," He looked intently for a moment at the keen-edged axe, and, without a word, submitted to his fate. Madame Roland and others of the most illus- trious of the friends of freedom and of France soon followed to the scaffold. And now every day the guillotine was active as the efficient agent of gov- ernment, extinguishing all opposition and silencing every murmur. The prisons were full, new arrests were every day made, and dismay paralyzed all hearts. Four thousand six hundred in the prisons of Paris alone were awaiting that trial which almost surely led to condemnation. The Jacobin leaders, trembling before Europe in arms, felt that there was no safety for France but in the annihilation of all internal foes. Danton, Marat, Robespierre, were not men who loved blood and cruelty ; they were resolute fanatics who believed it to be well to cut off the heads of many thou- sand reputed aristocrats, that a nation of thirty millions might enjoy popu- lar liberty. AYhile the Revolutionary Tribunal was thus mercilessly plying the axe of the executioner, the National Convention, where these Jacobins reigned supreme, were enacting many laws which breathed the spirit of lib- * Edmund Burke, has most unpardonably calumniated these noble men. Even Prof. Sm'V'th, who espous'.'S his ojiinions, says, "Burke was a man who, from the ardor of his temperament and the vehemence of his eloquence, might be almost said to have ruined every cause and every party that he espoused. No mind, however great, that will not buw to the superiority of his genius ; yet no mind, however inferior, that will not occasionally feel itself entitled to look down upon him, from the total want which he sometimes shows of all calmness and candor, and even, at par- ticular moments, of all reasonableness and propriety of thought." — Lectures on the French Revolu- tion, by Wm. Smyth, vol. iii., p. 4. 358 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXIY. erty and humanity. The taxes were equally distributed in proportion to property. Provision was made for the poor and infirm. All orphans were adopted by the Republic. Liberty of conscience was proclaimed. Slavery and the slave-trade were indignantly abolished. Measures were adopted for a general system of popular instruction, and decisive efforts were made to unite the rich and the poor in bonds of sympathy and alliance.* We can not give a better account of the state of Paris at this time than in the words of Desodoards, a calm philosophic writer, who had ardently es- poused the cause of the Revolution, and who consequently will not be sus- pected of exaggeration. "What then," says he, "was this Revolutionary government? Every right, civil and political, was destroyed. Liberty of the press and of thought was at an end. The whole people were divided into two classes, the privi- leged and the proscribed. Property was wantonly violated, leitres de cachet re-established, the asylum of dwellings exposed to the most tyrannical inqui- sition, and justice stripped of every appearance of humanity and honor. France was covered with prisons ; all the excesses of anarchy and despotism struggling amid a confused multitude of committees ; terror in every heart ; the scaifold devouring a hundred every day, and threatening to devour a still greater number ; in every house melancholy and mourning, and in ev- ery street the silence of the tomb. " War was waged against the tenderest emotions of nature. Was a tear shed over the tomb of father, wife, or friend, it was, according to these Jac- obins, a robbery of the Republic. Not to rejoice when the Jacobins rejoiced was treason to freedom. All the mob of low officers of justice, some of whom could scarcely read, sported with the lives of men without the slight- est shame or remorse. Often an act of accusation was served upon one per- son which was intended for another. The officer only changed the name on perceiving his error, and often did not change it. Mistakes of the most in- conceivable nature were made with impunity. The Duchess of Biron was judged by an act drawn up against her agent. A young man of twenty was guillotined for having, as it was alleged, a son bearing arms against France. A lad of sixteen, by the name of Mallet, was arrested under an indictment for a man of forty, named Bellay. " ' What is your age T inquired the president, looking at him with some surprise. " ' Sixteen,' replied the youth. " ' Well, you are quite forty in crime,' said the magistrate ; ' take him to the guillotine.' " From every corner of France victims were brought in carts to the Con- ciergerie. This prison was emptied every day by the guillotine, and refilled from other prisons. These removals were made in the dark, lest public sympathy should be excited. Fifty or sixty poor creatures, strait bound, conducted by men of ferocious aspect, a drawn sabre in one hand and a light- ed torch in the other, passed in this manner through the silence of night. The passenger who chanced to meet them had to smother his pity. A sigh would have united him to the funeral train. * History of the Girondists, Lamartine, vol. iii., p. 291. 1793.] THE JACOBINS TRIUMPHANT 359 " The prisons were the abode of every species of suffering. The despair which reigned in these sepulchres was terrific : one finished his existence by poison ; another dispatched hinmself by a nail ; another dasiied his head against the walls of his cell ; some lost their reason. Those who had suffi- cient fortitude waited patiently for the executioner. Every house of arrest was required to furnish a certain number of victims. The turnkeys went BEADtNO THE U8T OF TIIB TICTIM8 IN THE PEI80NS OF PAB18. 360 ' THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXIV. with these mandates of accusation from chamber to chamber in the dead of night. The prisoners, starting from their sleep at the voice of their Cerbe- ruses, supposed their end had arrived. Thus warrants of death for thirty threw hundreds into consternation.* " At first the sheriffs ranged fifteen at a time in their carts, then thirty, and about the time of the fall of Kobespierre preparations had been made for the execution of one hundred and fifty at a time. An aqueduct had been contrived to carry off the blood. In these batches, as they were called, were often united people of the most opposite systems and habits. Some- times whole generations were destroyed in a day. Malesherbes, at the age of eighty, perished with his sister, his daughter, his son-in-law, his grand- son, and his granddaughter. Forty young women were brought to the guillotine for having danced at a ball given by the King of Prussia at Verdun. Twenty-two peasant women, whose husbands had been executed in La Vendee, were beheaded." Such was the thraldom from which, at last, the empire of Napoleon res- cued France. Nothing less than the strength of his powerful arm could have wrought out the achievement. In the midst of such scenes it is not strange that all respect should have been renounced for the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The Jacobins of Paris crowded the Convention, demanding the abjuration of all forms of religion and all modes of worship. They governed the Convention with despotic sway. The Commune of Paris, invested with the local police of the city, passed laws prohibiting the clergy from exercising religious worship outside the churches. None but friends and relatives were to be allowed to follow the remains of the dead to the grave. All religious symbols were ordered to be effaced from the cemeteries, and to be replaced by a statue of Sleep. The following ravings of Anacharsis Cloots, a wealthy Prussian baron, who styled himself the orator of the human race, and who was one of the most conspicuous of the Jacobin agitators, forcibly exhibits the spirit of the times :f " Paris, the metropolis of the globe, is the proper post for the orator of the human race. I have not left Paris since 1789. It was then that I re- doubled my zeal against the pretended sovereigns of earth and heaven. I boldly preached that there is no other god but Nature, no other sovereign but the human race — the people-god. The people is sufficient for itself. Nature kneels not before herself Religion is the only obstacle to universal happiness. It is high time to destroy it." The popular current in Paris now set very strongly against all religion. Infidel and atheistic principles were loudly proclaimed. The unlettered populace, whose fiith was but superstition, were easily swept along by the current. The Convention made a feeble resistance, but soon yielded to the general impulse. In the different sections of Paris, gatherings of the popu- lace abjured all religion. The fanaticism spread like wild-fire to the distant * " There were in the prisons of Paris on the 1st of September, 1793, .")07 ; October 1, 2400; November 1, 3203; December 1, 4130; and in six months after, 11,400." — Hist. Phil, de hRev. de France, par Ant. Fantin Desodoards. t Cloots declared himself "the personal enemy of Jesus Christ." France adopted the athe- istic principles of Cloots, and sent him to the guillotine. See article Cloots, Enc. Am. 1793.] FALL OF THE HEBEKTISTS AND OF THE DANTONISTS. 361 departments. The churches were stripped of their baptismal plate and other treasures, and the plunder was sent to the Convention. Processions paraded the streets, singing, derisively, Hallelujahs, and proiaumg with sacri- legious caricature all the ceremonies of religion. The sacrament of the Lord's Supper was administered to an ass. n . ^i The Convention had appointed a committee of twelve men, called the Committee of Public Safety, and invested them with dictatorial power, i he whole revolutionary power was now lodged in their hands. They appoint- ed such sub-committees as they pleased, and governed France with terrific energy The Revolutionary Tribunal was but one of their committees. In all the departments they established their agencies. The Convention itself became powerless before this appalling despotism. This dictatorship was energetically supported by the mob of Paris; and the city government of Paris was composed of the most violent Jacobms, who were m perfect fraternity with the Committee of Public Safety. St. Just, who proposed in the Convention the establishment of this dictatorship, said, "You must no longer show any lenity to the enemies of the new order of thino-s. Liberty must triumph at any cost. In the present circumstances of the Republic the Constitution can not be established; it would guarantee impunity to attacks on our liberty, because it would be deficient m the violence necessary to restrain them." This Committee, overawing the Convention, constrained the estabhshment of a new era. To obliterate the Sabbath, they divided the year into twelve months of thirty days each, each month to consist of three weeks often days each. The tenth day was devoted to festivals. The five surplus days were placed at the end of the year, and were consecrated to games and re- ioicino- Thus energetically were measures adopted to obliterate entirely all trances of the Sabbath. There were thousands in France who looked upon these measures with unutterable disgust, but they were overwhelmed by the powers of anarchy. Anxiously they waited for a deliverer In Napoleon they found one, who was alike the foe of the despotism of the Bourbons and the despotism of the mob. CHAPTER XXXV. FALL OF THE HEBERTISTS AND OF THE DANTONISTS. Continued Persecution of the Gironclists.-Kobespiorre oppo^^s the A.heists.-Danton, Souber bielle, and CainiUo Desmoulins.-Tl>e Vien. CordeUer-Th. Hebertists executed.-Danton assailed -Litorview hctwc-en Danton and Kohespi-rre—Danton warned of Ins Peril.-Ca- "me D;snK,«lins and others arrested. -Lucilo, the Wife of Desmoulins.-Letters.-Execut^on of the Dantonists.-Arrest and Execution of Lucile.-Toulon recovered by Bonaparte. The leaders of the Girondists were now destroyed, and the remnants of the party were prosecuted with unsparing ferocity. On the 11th of Novem- ber Bailly, the former mayor, the friend of La Fayette, the philanthropist and the scholar, was dragged to the scaffold. The day was cold and rainy His crime was having unfuried the red flag in the Field of Mars, to quell Vol. n.-r^ 362 THE FKENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXY. the riot there, on the 17th of July, 1791. He was condemned to be exe- cuted on the field which was the theatre of his alleged crime. Behind the cart which carried him they affixed the flag which he had spread. A crowd followed, heaping upon him the most cruel imprecations. On reaching the scaffold, some one cried out that the field of the federation ought not to be polluted with his blood. Immediately the mob rushed upon the guillotine, tore it down, and erected it again upon a dunghill on the banks of the Seine. They dragged Bailly from the tumbril, and compelled him to make the tour of the Field of Mars on foot. Bareheaded, with his hands bound behind him, and with no other garment than a shirt, the sleet glued his hair and froze upon his breast. They pelted him with mud, spat in his face, and whipped him with the flag, which they dipped in the gutters. The old man fell exhausted. They lifted him up again, and goaded him on. Blood, mingled with mire, streamed down his face, depriving him of human aspect. Shouts of derision greeted these horrors. The freezing wind and exhaustion caused an involuntary shivering. Some one cried out, "You tremble, Bailly." "Yes, my friend," replied the heroic old man, "but it is with cold."* After five hours of such a martyrdom, the axe re- leased him from his sufferings. Pdtion and Buzot wandered many days and nights in the forest. At length their remains were found, half devoured by wolves. Whether they perished of cold and starvation, or sought relief from their misery in volun- tary death, is not known. The illustrious Condorcet, alike renowned for his philosophical genius and his eloquent advocacy of popular rights, had been declared an outlaw. For several months he had been concealed in the house of Madame Yerney, a noble woman, who periled her own life that she might save that of her friend. At last Condorcet, learning from the papers that death was de- nounced against all who concealed a proscribed individual, resolved, at every hazard, to leave the roof of his benefactress. For some time he wan- dered through the fields in disguise, until he was arrested and thrown into prison. On the following morning, March 28, 1794, he was found dead on the floor of his room, having swallowed poison, which for some time he carried about with him. " It would be difficult in that or any other age to find two men of more active or, indeed, enthusiastic benevolence than Condorcet and La Fayette. Besides this, Condorcet was one of the most profound thinkers of his time, and will be remembered as long as genius is honored among us. La Fay- ette was no doubt inferior to Condorcet in point of ability, but he was the intimate friend of "Washington, on whose conduct he modeled his own, and by whose side he had fought for the liberties of America; his integrity was, and still is, unsullied, and his character had a chivalrous and noble turn which Burke, in his better days, would have been the first to admire. Both, however, were natives of that hated country whose liberties they * "Few victims ever met with viler executioners; few executioners with so exalted a victim. Shame at the foot of the scaflFold, glory above, and pity every where. One blushes to be a man in contemplating tliis people. One glories in this title in contemplating Bailly." — Lamartine, Hist. Gir., vol. iii., p. 282. 1793.] FALL OF THE HEBERTISTS AND OF THE DANTONISTS. 363 DEATH OF CONDOEOET. vainly attempted to acldeve. On this account Burke declared Condorcet to be guilty of 'impious sophistry,' to be a 'fanatic atheist and furious dem- ocratic republican,' and to be capable of the ' lowest as well as the highest and most determined villainies.' As to La Fayette, when an attempt was made to mitigate the. cruel treatment he was receiving from the Prussian government, Burke not only opposed the motion made for that purpose in the House of Commons, but took the opportunity of grossly insulting the unfortunate captive, who was then languishing in a dungeon. So dead had he become on this subject, even to the common instincts of our nature, that in his place in parliament he could find no better way of speaking of this injured and high-souled man than by calling him a ruffian. 'I would not,' sa3^s Burke, ' debase"^ my humanity by supporting an application in behalf of so horrid a ruffian.' "f Madame Eoland was led to the guillotine, evincing heroism which the world has never seen surpassed. Her husband, in anguish, unable to sur- vive her, and hunted by those thirsting for his blood, anticipated the guillo- tine by plunging a stiletto into his own heart. Dan ton and Robespierre were both opposed to such cruel executions, and especially to the establishment in France of that system of atheism which degraded man into merely the reptile of an hour. When Eobespierre was informed of the atrocities which attended the execution of Bailly, in shame * In Pari. Hist., "I would not debauch my humanity." t History of Civilization in England, by Henry Thomas Buckle, vol. i., p. 338. 36"i THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXV and grief he shut himself up in his room, saying, with prophetic foresight, to his host DupLaj, " It is thus that they will martyrize ourselves." Hebert* and the atheists were now dominant in the Commune of Paris, and Dan ton and Eobespierre organized a party to crush them, llebei't soon saw indications of this movement, and began to tremble. He complained in the Jacobin Club that Eobespierre and Danton were plotting against him. Robespierre was present on the occasion, and, with his accustomed audacity, immediately ascended the tribune and hurled his anathemas upon the heads of these blood-crimsoned fimatics. " There are men," said he, " who, under the pretext of destroying supersti- tion, would fain make a sort of religion of atheism itself. Every man has a right to think as he pleases ; w^hoever would make a crime of this is a mad- man. But the legislator who should adopt the system of atheism would be a hundred times more insane. The National Convention abhors such a system. It is a political bodj-, not a maker of creeds. Atheism is aristocratic. The idea of a great Being who watches over oppressed innocence and who punishes triumphant guilt is quite pcpular. The people, the unfortunate, ap{)laud me. If God did not exist, it ivould behoove man to invent himy One of the last evenings in the month of January, Danton, Souberbielle, one of the members of the Revolutionary Tribunal, and Camille Desmoulins came from the Palace of Justice together. It was a cold gloomy winter's night. It had been a day of blood. Fifteen heads had fallen upon the guillotine and twenty-seven were condemned to die on the morrow. These three men were all appalled by the progress of events, and for some time walked along in silence. On reaching Pont Neuf, Danton turned suddenly round to Souberbielle and said, *' Do you know that, at the pace we are now going, there will speedily be no safety for any person? The best patriots are confounded with traitors. Generals who have shed their blood foi the Republic perish on the scaffold. I am weary of living. Look there ; the very river seems to flow with blood." "True," replied Souberbielle, "the sky is red, and there are many show- ers of blood behind those clouds. Those who were to be judges have be- come but executioners. When I refuse an innocent head to their knife I am accused of sympatliv with traitors. What can I do? I am but an ob- scure patriot. Ah, if I were Danton !" " All this," replied Danton, " excites horror in me. But be silent. Dan- ton sleeps ; he will awake at the right moment. I am a man of revolution, but not a man of slaughter. But you," he added, addressing Camille Des- moulins, "why do you keep silence?" * Hebert was a low fellow, impudent, ignorant, and corrupt, and connected with one of the theatres in Paris. He was an ardent Jacobin, and established a paper called " Father Du- chesne," which, from its ribaldry, was eagerly sought for by the populace. He was one of the leaders of the prison massacres on the 10th of August. His ])aj)er was the zealous advocate of atheism. He it was who brought the disgusting charge against the queen that she had endeav- ored to pollute her own son, and had committed incest with him, a child of eight years. Robes- pierre even was indignant at the foul accusation, and exclaimed, " Madman ! was it not enough for him to have asserted that she was a Messalina, without also making an Agrippina of her?"— Siographie Modeme. 1794.] lALL OF THE HEBERTISTS AND OF THE DANTONISTS. 365 " I am weary of silence,." was Desmoulins's reply. " My hand weighs heavily, and I have sometimes the impulse to sharpen my pen into a dagger and stab these scoundrels. Let them beware. My ink is more indelible than their blood. It stains for immortality." " Bravo !" cried Danton. " Begin to-morrow. You began the Eevolution ; be it you who shall now most thoroughly urge it. Be assured this hand shall aid you. You know whether or not it be strong." The three friends separated at Danton's door. The doom of the misera- ble Hebert and his party was now sealed. Robespierre, Danton, and Camille Desmoulins were against him. They could wield resistless influences. The next day Camille Desmoulins commenced a series of papers called the Vieux Cordelier. He took the first number to Danton and then to Robespierre. They both approved, and the warfare against Hebert and his party was com- menced. The conflict was short and desperate ; each party knew that the guillotine was the doom of the vanquished.* Robespierre and Danton were victors. Hebert, Cloots, and their friends, nineteen in number, were arrest- ed and condemned to death. On the 24th of March, 1794, five carts laden with the Hebertists proceeded from the Conciergerie to the guillotine. Cloots died firmly. Hebert was in a paroxysm of terror, which excited the contempt and derision of the mob. The bold invectives against the Reign of Terror in the Vieux Cordelier, written by Desmoulins, began to alarm the Committee of Public Safety. Danton and Robespierre were implicated. They were accused of favoring moderate measures, and of being opposed to those acts of bloody rigor which were deemed necessary to crush the aristocrats. Danton and Desmoulins were in favor of a return to mercy. Robespierre, though opposed to cruelty and to needless carnage, was sternly for death as the doom of every one not warmly co-operating with the Revolution. To save himself from suspicion he became the accuser of his two friends. And now it came the turn of Danton and Desmoulins to tremble. For five years Danton and Robespierre had fought together to overthrow roj^alty and found the Republic. But Danton was disgusted with carnage, and had withdrawn from the Committee of Public Safety. " Danton, do you know," said Eglantine to him one day, " of what j^ou are accused ? They say that j^ou have only launched the car of the Revolution to enrich yourself, while Robespierre has remained poor in the midst of the monarchical treasures thrown at his feet." * In this celebrated pamphlet, the "Old Cordelier." Desmoulins thus powerfully describes France, while pretending to describe Rome under tiie emperors : "Every thing, under that ter- rible povernmcnt, was made the groundwork of susjiicion. Does a oiiizen avoid society and live retired by his fireside? That is to ruminate in private on sinister designs. Is he rich? That renders the danger greater that he will corrupt the citizens by his largesses. Is he poor? None so dangerous as those who have nothing to lose. Is he thoughtful and melancholy? He is re- volving what he calls the calamities of his country. Is he gay and dissipated? He is conceal- ing, liks Caesar, ambition under the mask of pleasure. T!ie natural death of a celebrated man has become so rare that historians transmit it, as a matter worthy of record, to future ages. The tribunals, once the protectors of life and property, have become the mere organs of butchery." Speaking of Hebert, he said, "Hebert, the head of this turbulent and atrocious faction, is a miserable intriguer, a caterer for the guillotine, a traitor paid by Pitt, a thief expelled for theft from his office of check-taker at a theatre." — Le Vieux Cordelier. 366 THE FEENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXY "Well," replied Danton, "do you know what tliat proves? that I love gold, and that Robespierre loves blood. Robespierre is afraid of money lest it should stain his hands." Robespierre earnestly wished to associate Danton with him in all the rigor of the Revolutionary government, for he respected the power of this bold, indomitable man. They met at a dinner-party, through the agency of a mu- tual friend, when matters were brought to a crisis. They engaged in a dis- pute, Danton denouncing and reviling the acts of the Revolutionary Tribu- nal, and Robespierre defending them, until they separated in anger. The friends of Danton urged him either to escape by flight or to take advantage of his popularity and throw himself upon the army. " My life is not worth the trouble," said Danton. " Besides, I am weary of blood. I had rather be guillotined than be a guillotiner. They dare not attack me. I am stronger than they." A secret meeting of the Committee of Public Safety was convened by night, and Danton was accused of the "treason of clemency." A subaltern door-keeper heard the accusation, and ran to Danton's house to warn him of his peril and to offer him an asylum. The young and beautiful wife of Dan- ton, with tears in her eyes, threw herself at his feet, and implored him, for her sake and for that of their children, to accept the proffered shelter. Dan- ton proudly refused, saying, " They will deliberate long before they will dare to strike a man like me. While they deliberate I will surprise them." He dismissed the door-keeper and retired to bed. At six o'clock gens cCarmes entered his room with the order for his arrest. " They dare, then," said Danton, crushing the paper in his hand. " They are bokler than I had thought them to be." He dressed, embraced his wife convulsivel}^, and was conducted to prison. At the same hour Camille Desmoulins and fourteen others, the supposed par- tisans of Danton, were also arrested. It was the 31st of March. Danton was taken to the Luxembourg. Here he found Desmoulins and his other friends already incarcerated. As Danton entered the gloomy portals of the prison he saici, " At length I perceive that, in revolutions, the supreme power ultimately rests with the most abandoned."* A crowd of the detained immediately gathered around liim, amazed at that freak of fortune which had cast the most distinguished leader of the Jaco- bins into the dungeons of the accused. Danton was humiliated and annoyed by the gaze, and endeavored to veil his embarrassment under the guise of derision. " Yes," said he, raising his head and forcing loud laughter, "it is Danton. Look at him well. The trick is well played. We must know how to praise our en(Mni(>s wlien they conduct adroitly. I would never have believed thnt Robespierre could have juggled me thus." Then softening, and growing more sincere^ he said, " Gentlemen, I hoped to have been the means of deliv- ering you all from this place; l3ut here I am among you, and no one can tell where this will end." * Rioufle, p. 67. 1794.] FALL OF THE HEBERTISTS AND OF THE DANTONISTS. 367 The accused Dantonists-accused of advocating moderate measures in tlie treatment of the enemies of the Revolution-were soon shut up m separate cells The report of the arrest of men of such acknowledged power, and who* had been so popular as patriots, spread anxiety and gloom through Paris. The warmest friends of the arrested dared not plead their cause ; it would only have imperiled their own lives. _ Even in the Assembly great excitement was produced by these important arrests. The members gathered in groups and spoke to each other m whis- pers, inquiring what all this meant and where it was to end. At last, L6- gendre ventured to ascend the tribune, and said, "Citizens, four members of this Assembly have been arrested during the night Danton is one. I know not the others. Citizens, I declare that I believe Danton to be as pure as myself; yet he is in a dungeon. They fear- ed no doubt, that his replies would overturn the accusations brought against him. I move, therefore, that, before you listen to any report, you send for the prisoners and hear them." Robespierre immediately ascended the tribune and replied, "By the unusual agitation which pervades this Assembly— by the sensa- tion the words of the speaker you have just heard have produced, it is man- ifest that a question of great interest is before us— a question whether two or three individuals shall be preferred to the country. The question to-day is whether the interests of certain ambitious hypocrites shall prevail over the interests of the French nation. Legendre appears not to know the names of those who have been arrested. All the Convention knows them. His friend Lacroix is among the prisoners. Why does he pretend to be ignorant of it? Because he knows that he can not defend Lacroix without shame. He has spoken of Danton, doubtless because he thinks that a privilege is at- tached to this name. No! we will have no privilege. No! we will have no idols We shall see to-day whether the Convention will break a lalse idol, long since decayed, or whether in its fall it will crush the Convention and the French people. . "I say whoever now trembles is guilty, for never does innocence dread public surveillance. Me, too, have they tried to alarm. It has been at- tempted to make me believe that the danger which threatens Danton might reach me. I have been written to. The friends of Danton have sent me their letters ; have besieged me with their importunities. They have thought that the remembrance of a former acquaintance, that a past belief m false virtues might determine me to relax in my zeal and my passion for liberty Well then I declare that none of these motives have touched my soul with the slightest impression; my life is for my country, my heart is exempt from fear. . . " I have seen in the flattery which has been addressed to me, m the con- cern of those who surrounded Danton, only signs of the terror which they felt even before thev were threatened. And I, too, have been the fnend ot Pdtion ; as soon as he was unmasked I abandoned him. I have also been acquainted with Roland ; he became a traitor and I denounced him. Dan- ton would take their place, and in my eyes he is but an enemy to his coun- try." 368 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChaP. XXXV. Ldgendre, appalled, immediately retracted, and trembling for his life, like a whipped spaniel, crouched before the terrible dictator. At that moment St. Just came in, and read a long report against the members under arrest. The substance of the vague and rambling charges was that they had been bought up by the aristocrats and were enemies to their country. The As- sembly listened without a murmur, and then unanimously, and even with applause, voted the impeachment of Danton and his friends. " Every one sought to gain time with tyranny, and gave up others' heads to save his own."* The Dantonists were men of mark, and they now drank deeply of that bitter chalice which they had presented to so many lips. Camille Desmou- lins, young, brilliant, enthusiastic, was one of the most fascinating of men. His youthful and beautiful wife, Lucile, he loved to adoration. They had one infant child, Horace, their pride and joy. Camille was asleep in the arms of his wife when the noise of the butt end of a musket on the threshold of his door aroused him. As the soldiers presented the order for his arrest, he exclaimed, in anguish, " This, then, is the recompense of the first voice of the Revolution." Embracing his wife for the last time, and imprinting a kiss upon the cheek of his child asleep in the cradle, he was hurried to prison. Lucile, frantic with grief, ran through the streets of Paris to plead with Robespierre and others for her husband ; but her lamentations were as unavailing as the moaning wind. In the following tender strain Camille wrote his wife : " My prison recalls to my mind the garden where I spent eight years in beholding you. A glimpse of the garden of the Luxembourg brings back to me a crowd of remembrances of our loves. I am alone, but never have I been in thought, imagination, feeling nearer to you, your mother, and to my little Horace. I am going to pass all my time in prison in writing to you. I cast myself at your knees ; I stretch out my arms to embrace you; I find you no more. Send me the glass on which are our two names ; a book, which I bought some days ago, on the immortality of the soul. I have need of persuading myself that there is a God more just than man, and that I can not fail to see you again. Do not grieve too much over my thoughts, dearest ; I do not yet despair of men. Yes ! my beloved, we will see ourselves again in the garden of the Luxembourg. Adieu, Lucile! Adieu, Horace 1 I can not embrace you ; but in the tears which I shed it ap- pears that I press you again to my bosom. Thy Camille." Lucile, frantic with grief, made the most desperate eftbrts to gain access to Robespierre, but she was sternly repulsed. She then thus imploringly wrote to him, " Can you accuse us of treason, you who have profited so much by the ef- forts we have made for our country ? Camille has seen the birth of your pride, th(^ path you desired to tread, but he has recalled your ancient fi'iend- ship and shrunk from the idea of accusing a friend, a companion of his la* * Mignet, p. 245. 1794.] FALL OF THE HEBERTISTS AND OF THE DANTONISTS. 369 bors. That hand which has pressed yours has too soon abandoned the pen, since it could no longer trace your i)raise; and you, you send him to'deatli. But, Robespierre, will you really accomplish the deadly projects which doubt- less the vile souls which surround you have inspired you with ? Have you forgotten those bonds which Camille never recalls without grief? you who prayed for our union, who joined our hands in yours, who have smiled upon my son whose infantile hands have so often caressed you ? Can you, then, reject my prayers, despise my tears, and trample justice under foot? For you know it yourself, we do not merit the fate they are preparing for us, and you can avert it. If it strike us, it is you who will have ordered it. But what is, then, the crime of my Camille ? " I have not his pen to defend him. But the voice of good citizens, and your heart, if it is sensible, will plead for me. Do you believe that people will gain confidence in you by seeing you immolate your best friends ? Do you think that they will bless him who regards neither the tears of the widow nor the death of the orphan ? Poor Camille ! in the simplicity of his heart, how far was he from suspecting the fate which awaits him to-day ! He thought to labor for your glory in pointing out to you what was still wanting to our republic. He has, no doubt, been calumniated to you, Eobes- pierre, for you can not believe him guilty. Consider that he has never re- quired the death of any one — that he has never desired to injure by your power, and that you were his oldest and his best friend. And you are about to kill us both ! For to strike him is to kill me — " The unfinished letter she intrusted to her mother, but it never reached the hands of Eobespierre. The prisoners were soon taken to the Concier- gerie and plunged into the same dungeon into which thi y had thrown the Girondists. The day of trial was appointed without delay. It was the 3d of April. As the prisoners, fourteen in number, were arrayed before the Tribunal, the president, Hermann, inquired of Danton, in formal phrase, his name, age, and residence. "My name," was the proud and defiant reply, "is Danton, well enough known in the Revolution. I am thirty-five years old. My residence will soon be void, and my name will exist in the Pantheon of history." To the same question Camille Desmoulins replied, " I am thirtj^-three, a fatal age to revolutionists, — the age of the sans culoite Jesus when he died." The trial lasted three days. Danton, in his defense, struggled like a lion in the toils. An immense crowd filled the court and crowded the surround- ing streets. The windows were open, and the thunders of his voice were frequently heard even to the other side of the Seine. The people in the streets, whom he doubtless meant to influence, caught up his words and transmitted them from one to another. Some indications of popular sym- pathy alarmed the Tribunal, and it was voted that the accused were wanting in respect to the court, and should no longer be heard in their defense. They were immediately condemned to die. They were reconducted to their dungeon to prepare for the guillotine. The fortitude of Camille Di^smoulins was weakened by the strength of his domestic attachments. "Oh, my dear Lucile! Oh, my Horace I what will Aa 370 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXXV danton'b defenbe. become of them !" lie incessantly cried, while tears flooded his eyes. Seiz- ing a pen, he hastily wrote a few last words to Lucile, which remain one of the most touching memorials of grief " I have dreamed," he wrote, " of a republic which all the world would have adored. I could not have believed that men were so cruel and unjust, I do not dissimulate that I die a victim to my friendship for Danton. I 1794.] FALL OF THE HEBERTISTS AND OF THE DANTONISTS. 371 thank my assassins for allowing me to die with Philippeaux. Pardon, my dear friend, my true life which I lost from the moment they separated us. I occupy myself with my memory. I ought much rather to cause you to forget it, my Lucile. I conjure you do not call to me by your cries. They would rend my heart in the depths of the tomb. Live for our child ; talk to him of me ; you may tell him what he can not understand, that I should have loved him much. Despite my execution, I believe there is a God. My blood will wash out my sins, the weakness of my humanity ; and what- ever I have possessed of good, my virtues and my love of liberty, God will recompense it. I shall see you again one day. " O my Lucile, sensitive as I was, the death which delivers me from the sight of so much crime, is it so great a misfortune ? Adieu, my life, my soul, my divinity upon earth ! Adieu, Lucile ! my Lucile ! my dear Lucile ! Adieu, Horace ! Annette ! Ad^le ! Adieu, my father ! I feel the shore of life, fly before me. I still see Lucile! I see her, my best beloved! my Lucile! My bound hands embrace you, and my severed head rests still upon you its dying eyes." As Danton re-entered the gloomy corridor of the prison he said, "It was just a year ago that I was instrumental in instituting the Revolutionary Tribunal. I beg pardon of God and men. I intended it as a measure of humanity, to prevent the renewal of the September massacres, and that no man should suffer without trial. I did not mean that it should prove the scourge of humanity." Then, pressing his capacious brow between his hands, he, said, "They think that they can do without me. They deceive themselves. I was the statesman of Europe. They do not suspect the void which this head leaves." " As to me," he continued, in cynical terms, " I have enjoyed my mo- ments of existence well. I have made plenty of noise upon earth. I have tasted well of life. Let us go to sleep," and he made a gesture with head and arms as if about to repose his head upon a pillow. After a short pause he resumed, " We are sacrificed to the ambition of a few dastardly brigands. But tlic}^ will not long enjoy the fruit of their vil- lainy. I drag Robespierre after mc. Robespierre follows me to the grave." At four o'clock the executioners entered the Conciergerie to bind their hands and cut off their hair. "It will be very amusing," said Danton, "to the fools who will gape at us in the streets, but we shall appear otherwise in the eyes of posterity." When the executioners laid hold of Camille Desmoulins, he struggled in the most desperate resistance. But he was speedily thrown upon the floor and bound, while the prison resounded with his shrieks and imprecations. The whole fourteen Dantonists were placed in one cart. Desmoulins seemed frantic with terror. He looked imploringly upon the crowd, and incessantly cried, " Save me, generous people ! I am Camille Desmoulins. It was I who called you to arms on the 14th of July. It was I who gave you the nation- al cockade." He so writhed and twisted in the convulsions of his agony that his clothes were nearly torn from his back. Danton stood in moody silence, occasion- ally endeavoring to appease the turbulence of Desmoulins. 372 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChaP. XXXV. Herault de Sdchelles first ascended the scaffold. As he alighted from the cart he endeavored to embrace Danton. The brutal executioner inter- posed. "Wretch," said Danton, "you will not, at least, prevent our heads from kissing presently in the basket." Desmoulins followed next. In his hand he held a lock of his wife's hair. For an instant he gazed upon the blade, streaming with the blood of his friend, and then said, turning to the populace, " Look at the end of the first apostle of liberty. The monsters who mur- der me will not survive me long." The axe fell, and his head dropped into the basket. Danton looked proudly, imperturbably on as, one after another, the heads of his thirteen companions fell. He was the last to ascend the scaffold. For a moment he was softened as he thought of his wife. "Oh my wife, my dear wife," said he, "shall I never see you again?" Then checking himself, he said, " But, Danton, no weakness." Turning to the executioner, he proudly remarked, "You will show my head to the people ; it will be well worth the display." His head fell. The executioner, seizing it by the hair, walked around the platform, holding it up to the gaze of the populace. A shout of ap- plause rose from the infatuated people. "Thus," says Mignet, "perished the last defenders of humanity and moderation, the last who sought to pro- mote peace among the conquerors of the Ee volution and pity for the con- quered. For a long time after them no voice was raised against the dicta- torship of terror, and from one end of France to the other it struck silent and redoubled blows. The Girondists had sought to prevent this violent reign, the Dantonists to stop it. All perished, and the conquerors had the more victims to strike, the more the foes arose around them." The Robespierrians, having thus struck down the leaders of the moderate party, pursued their victory, by crushing all of the advocates of moderation from whom they apprehended the slightest danger. Day after day the guillotine ran red with blood. Even the devot( d wife of Camille Desmou- lins, but twenty-three years of age, was not spared. It was her crime that she loved her husband, and that she might excite sympathy for his fate. Resplendent with grace and beauty, she was dragged before the Revolution- ary Tribunal. Little Horace was left an prphan, to cry in his cradle. Lu- cile displayed heroism upon the scaffold unsurpassed by that of Charlotte Corday or Madame Roland. When condemned to death she said calmly to her judges, " I shall, then, in a few hours, again meet my husband. In departing from this world, in which nothing now remains to engage my affections, I am far less the object of pity than are you." Robespierre had been the intimate friend of Desmoulins and Lucile. He had often eat of their bread and drunk of their cup in social converse. He was a guest at their wedding. Madame Duplessis, the mother of Lucile, was one of the most beautiful and accomplished women of France. In vain she addressed herself to Rc^bcspicrre and all his friends, in almost frantic endeavors to save her daughter. 1794.J FALL OP THE HEBERTISTS AND OF THE DANTONISTS. 373 INTKUIOK OP TIIK UKVOLlTTIONAnT TUIUCNAI. " Robespierre," she wrote to him, " is it not enougli to have assassinated your best friend ; do you desire also the blood of his wife, of my daughter? l^our niaster, Fouquier Tinville, has just ordered her to be led to the scaf. lolcl. I wo hours more and she will not be in existence. Robespierre if voii are not a tiger in human shape, if the blood of Camille has not inebri- ated you to the pomt of losmg your reason entirely, if jou recall still our evenmgs of mtimacy, if you recall to yourself the caresses you lavished upon 374 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChaP. XXXV. the little Horace, and how you delighted to hold him upon your knees, and if you remember that you were to have been my son-in-law, spare an inno- cent victim ! But, if thy fury is that of a lion, come and take us also, my- self. Ad^le [her other daughter], and Horace. Come and tear us away with thy hands still reeking in the blood of Camille. Come, come, and let one single tomb reunite us." To this appeal Robespierre returned no reply. Lueile was left to her fate. In the same car of the condemned with Madame Hebert she was conducted to the guillotine. She had dressed herself for the occasion with remarkable grace. A white gauze veil, partially covering her luxuriant hair, embel- lished her marvelous beauty. With alacrity and apparent cheerfulness she ascended the steps, placed her head upon tiie fatal plank, and a smile was upon her lips as the keen-edged knife, with the rapidity of the lightning's stroke, severed her head from her body. While these cruel scenes were transpiring in Paris, and similar scenes in all parts of France, the republican armies on the frontiers were struggling to repel the invading armies of allied Europe. It was the fear that internal enemies would rise and combine with the Ibreign foe which goaded the Rev- okitionists to such measures of despei'ation. They knew that the triumph of the Bourbons was their certain death. The English were now in posses- sion of Toulon, the arsenal of the French navy, which had been treasonably surrendered to an English fleet by the friends of the Bourbons. A republi- can army had for some months been besieging the city, but had made no progress toward the expulsion of the invaders. Napoleon Bonaparte, then a young man about twenty-five years of age and a lieutenant in the army, was sent to aid the besiegers. His genius soon placed him in command of the artillery. With almost superhuman energy, and skill never before surpassed, he pressed the siege, and, in one of the most terrific midnight attacks which ever has been witnessed, drove the British from the soil of France. This is the first time that Napoleon appears as an actor in the drama of the Revolution. The achievement gave him great renown in the army. On this occasion the humanity of Napoleon was as conspicuous as his energy. He abhorred alike the tyrannic sway of the Bourbons and the sanguinary rule of the Jacobins. One of the deputies of the Convention wrote to Carnot, then Minister of War, " I send you a young man who distinguished himself very much during the siege, and earnestly recommend you to advance him speedily. If you do not, he will most as- suredly advance himself." At St. Helena Napoleon said, " I was a very warm and sincere Republi- can ar, the commencement of the Revolution. I cooled by degrees, in pro- portion as I acquired more just and solid ideas. My patriotism sank undei the political absurdities and monstrous domestic excesses of our legisla- tures. ''' * Napoleon at St. Helena, p. 126. 1794.] FALL OF ROBESFIERKE. 375 CHAPTER XXXVI. FALL OF ROBESPIERRE. Inexplicable Character of Robespierre— Ce'cilc Repnatilt.— Fete in honor of the Supreme Being. — Increase of Victims. — The Triumvirate. — Suspicions of Robespierre. — StrupRle between Robespierre and the Committee of rublic Safety. — Conspiracy against Robespierre. — Session of the 27th of July. — Robespierre and his Friends arrested. — Ett'orts to save Robespierre. — Peril of the Convention. — Execution of Robespierre and his Confederates. Robespierre, who was now apparently at tlie height of his power, is one of the most inexphcable of men. His moral character was irreproachable ; no bribes could corrupt him ; he sincerely endeavored to establish a repub- lic founded upon the basis of popular liberty and virtue ; and self-aggrand- izement seems never to have entered into his aims. He was not a blood- thirsty man ; but was ready, with frigid mercilessness, to crush any party which stood in the way of his plans. His soul appears to have been almost as insensible to any generous emotion as was the blade of the guillotine.* He seems to have mourned the apparent necessity of beheading Danton. Repeatedly he was heard to say, perhaps hypocritically, " Oh, if Danton were but honest ! If he were but a true Republican ! What would I not give for the lantern of Diogenes to read the heart of Dan- ton, and learn if he be the friend or the enemy of the Republic?" Robespierre would gladly have received the aid of Dan ton's powerful arm, but, finding his old friend hostile to his measures, he pitilessly sent him to the guillotine. And yet there is evidence that he at times was very weary of that work of death which he deemed it necessary to prosecute.f *' Death," said he, " always death ; and the scoundrels throw all the respon- sibility upon me. What a memory shall I leave behind me if this lasts ! Life is a burden to me." On the 7th of May, 1794, Robespierre made a very eloquent speech in the Convention advocating the doctrines of a Supreme Being and the immortal- ity of the soul. He presented the following decrees, which were adopted by acclamation : ^^Art. 1. The French people recognize the existence of the Supreme Being and the immortality of the soul. * "Mr. Alison pives currency to an atrocious slander against Robespierre, for which he has adduced no authority, and which is contradicted by the whole evidence of Robespierre's life. 'He (Phili])pe Epalite') was detained,' says Alison, '.above a quarter of an hour in front of the Palais Royal, by order of Robespierre, who had asked in vain for the hand of his daughter in mar- riage, and had promised, if he would relent in that extremity, to excite a tumult which would save his life.' " — Life of Rohesjde.rre, bij G. II. Lcwea, p. 2C5. t "Danton regarded the austere principles of Robespierre as folly. He thought that the Re- publicans could not maintain their power but by surrounding themselves with the consideration which wealth confers, and he consequently thought it necessary to close their eyes against the sudden acquisition of wealth of certain Revolutionists. Robespierre, on the contraiy, flattered him- self that he could establish a republic in France based on virtue, and when he was thoroughly per- suaded that Danton was an obstacle to that system he abandoned him." — Bioyraphie Universelle, 376 "THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChaP. XXXYI. '^Art 2. They acknowledge that the worship worthy of the Supreme Be- ing is one of the duties of man." There were some unavailing attempts now made to assassinate Eobespierre ; one, very singular in its character, by a beautiful girl, Cecile Eegnault, but seventeen years of age. She called at Robespierre's house and asked to see him. Her appearance attracted suspicion, and she was arrested. In her OECILE REGNAULT AUBE8TE1). basket a change of clothes was found and two knives. She was led before the Tribunal. "What was the object of your visit to Robespierre?" the president in- quired. "I wished," she replied, "to see what a tyrant was like." "Why did you provide yourself with the change of clothes?" " Because," she calmly replied, " I expected to be sent to prison and then to the guillotine." "Did you intend to stab Robespierre?" " No," she answered, " I never wished to hurt any one in my life." "Why are you a Royalist?" the president continued. "Because," she replied, "I prefer one king to sixty tyrants." She was sent to the guillotine with all her family relations. The conduct of this girl is quite inexplicable, and it is doubted whether she seriously con- templated any crime. When she called to see Robespierre she left her knife in her room in a hasht! Eight carts were filled with victims to avenge this crime.* Robespierre was now so popular with the multitude that all Paris rallied around him with congratulations. The 8th of May was a])pointed as a festival in honor of the Supreme Be- ing. Robespierre, the originator of the movement, was chosen President of the Convention, that he might take the most conspicuous part on the occa- sion. The morning dawned with unusual splendor. For that one day the * Du Broca. 1794.] FALL OF ROBESPIERRE. 877 guillotine was ordered to rest. An amphitheatre was erected in the centre of the garden of the Tuileries, and the spacious grounds were crowded with a rejoicing concourse. The celebrated painter David had arranged the fete with the highest embellishments of art. At twelve o'clock Eobespierre as- cended a pavilion and delivered a discourse. " Kepublican Frenchmen," said he, " the ever fortunate day which the French people dedicated to the Supreme Being has at length arrived. Nev- er did the world which he created exhibit a spectacle so worthy of his atten- tion. He has beheld tyranny, crime, and imposture reigning on earth. He beholds at this moment a whole nation, assailed by all the oppressors of mankind, suspending the course of its heroic labors to lift its thoughts and its prayers toward the Supreme Being who gave it the mission to undertake and the courage to execute them." Having finished his brief address, he descended and set fire to a colossal group of figures representing Atheism, Discord, and Selfishness, which the idea of a God was to reduce to ashes. As they were consumed, there ap- peared in their place, emerging from the flames, the statue of Wisdom. After music, songs, and sundry symbolic ceremonies, an immense procession was formed, headed by Eobespierre, which proceeded from the Tuileries to the Champ de Mars. Here, after the performance of pageants as imposing as Parisian genius could invent and Parisian opulence execute, the procession returned to the Tuileries, where the festival was concluded with public di- versions.* The pre-eminence which Eobespierre assumed on this occasion excited great displeasure, and many murmurs reached his ears. Eobespierre, the next day, entered complaints against those who had murmured, accused them of being Dantonists and enemies of the Eevolution, and wished to send them to the guillotine. Each member of the Convention began to feel that his head was entirely at the disposal of Eobespierre, and gradually became emboldened to opposition. The legal process by which victims were arrested and sent to the guillo- tine had now become simple and energetic in the extreme. Any man com- plained to the Committee of Public Safety of whom he would, as suspected of being unfriendly to the Eevolution, The committee immediately ordered the arrest of the accused. The eighteen prisons of Paris were thus choked with victims. Each evening Fouquier Tinville, the public accuser, received from the Committee of Public Safety a list of those whom he was to take the next day to the Eevolutionary Tribunal. If the committee, for any rea- son, had not prepared a list, Fouquier Tinville was allowed to select whom he pleased. To be suspected was almost certain death. From the commence- ment of this year (1794) the executions had increased with frightful rapid- ity. In January eighty-three were executed ; in February, seventy -five ; in March, one hundred and twenty-three ; in April, two hundred and sixty- * "Robespierre had a prodigious force at his disposal. The lowest orders, who saw the Rev- olution in his person, supported him as the best 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."— Mignet, p. 256. Vol. II.— G 378 THE FRENCH EEVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXX VT. three ; in May, three hundred and twenty -four ; in June, six hundred and seventy-two ; in July, eight hundred and thirty-five."^ Carts were continually passing from the gates of the Conciergerie loaded with prisoners, who were promptly condemned and sent immediately to the scaffold. Malesherbes, the intrepid and venerable defender of Louis XVI., living in retirement in the country, was dragged, with all his family, to the scaffold. If a man were rich, he was suspected of aristocracy and was sent to the guillotine. If he were learned, his celebrity exposed him to suspicion, and his doom was death. If he were virtuous, he was accused of sympathy for the victims of the guillotine, and was condemned to the scaffold. There was no longer safety but in vice and degradation. The little girls who had been led by their fathers to attend a ball given by the King of Prussia at Verdun were all arrested, brought to Paris, and condemned and executed. " The eldest," says Lamartine, " was eighteen. They were all clothed in white robes. The cart which carried them resembled a basket of lilies whose heads waved to the motion of the arm. The affected executioners wept with them." Josephine Beauharnais, afterward the bride of Napoleon, was at this time in one of the dungeons of Paris, sleeping upon a wretched pallet of straw, and expecting daily to be led to execution. Robespierre, St. Just, and Couthon were the three leading men in the Committee of Public Safety, and were hence called the Triumvirate. All began now to be weary of blood, and yet no one knew how to stem the tor- rent or when the carnage would cease. The Reign of Terror had become almost as intolerable as the tyranny of the old kings, but not fully so ; the Reign of Terror crushed thousands who could make their woes heard ; des- potism crushed millions who were dumb. There was no hope for France but in some energetic arm which, assuming the dictatorship, should rescue liberty from the encroachments of kings and from being degraded by the mob. Robespierre was now the most prominent man in France and the most popular with the multitude. His friends urged him to assume the dictatorship. Jealousy of Robespierre's ambition now began to arise, and his enemies rapidly increased. Whispers that he had become a traitor to the Republic and was seeking kingly power began to circulate. Popular applause is pro- verbially fickle. Robespierre soon found that he could not carry his meas- ures in the Committee of Public Safety, and, disgusted and humiliated, he absented himself from the sittings. He attempted to check the effusion of blood, but was overruled by those even more pitiless than himself He now determined to crush the committee. Political defeat was death. He must either send the committee to the scaffold or bow his own head beneatk the knife. It was a death-struggle short and decisive. Pretended lists were circulated of the heads Robespierre demanded. Many in the Convention were appalled. Secret nightly councils were held to array a force against him. The mob of Paris he could command. Ilenriot, the chief of the mil- itary force, was entirely subservient to his will. He reigned supreme and without a rival in the Jacobin Club. His power was apparently resistlesa Bat despair nerved his foes. * Thiers, vol. iii., p. 68, note from Quarterly Review. 1794.] FALL OF ROBESPIERRE. 3^9 Three very able men, accustomed to command — Tallien, Barras, and Fr^- ron — headed the conspiracy against Robespierre. The party thus organized was called the Thennidorien, because it was in the month of Thermidor (July) that they achieved their signal victory, and, trampling upon the corpse of Robespierre and of his adherents, ascended to power. But nearly all these men, of all these parties, seem to have had no sense whatever of responsibility to God, or of Christianity as the rule of life. They had one and all rejected the Gospel of our Savior, and had accepted human phi- losophy alone as their guide. They were men, many of them, great in ability, illustrious in many virtues, sincerely loving their country, and too proud to allow themselves to be degraded by bribes or plunder. As the general on the battle-field will order movements which will cut down thou- sands of men, thus did these Revolutionists, without any scruples of con- science, send hundreds daily to the guillotine, not from love of blood, but because they believed that the public welfare demanded the sacrifice. And yet there was a cowardly spirit impelling these massacres. No one dared speak a word in behalf of mercy, lest he should be deemed in sympathy with aristocrats. He alone was safe from suspicion who was merciless in denunciation of the suspected. It is, however, remarkable that nearly all the actors in these scenes of blood, even in the hour of death, protested their conscientiousness and their integrity. Robespierre was now involved in inextricable toils. He was weary of blood. The nation was becoming disgusted with such carnage.* He was universally recognized as the leading mind in the government, and every act was deemed his act. His enemies in the Committee of Public Safety plied the guillotine with new vigor, knowing that the public responsibility would rest on Robespierre, Robespierre was strongly opposed to that reck- less massacre, and yet dared not interfere to save the condemned. His own dearest friends were arrested and dragged to the guillotine, and yet Robes- pierre was compelled to be silent. Earnestly he was entreated to assume * Prudhommc, a llepiihlican, who wrote durinf; this period of excitement, has left six vol- umes of tlie details of the Rei;:n of Terror. Two of these contain an alphabetical list of all the I)ersons put to death by the Revolutionary Tribunals. He gives the following appalling state- ment of the victims : Nobles 1,278 Noble women 750 Wives of laborers and artisans 1,4G7 Nuns 350 Priests 1,135 Men not noble 13,623 Total sent to the guillotine 18,003 18,603 Women who died of j)remature delivery 3 400 Women who died in childbirth from grief 343 Women killed in La Vende'^ 15,000 Children killed in La Vendc'e 22,000 Men slain in La Vendee 900,000 Victims under Carrier at Nantes 32,000 Victims at Lyons 31,000 Total 1,022,351 This list, appalling as it is, does not include those massacred in the prisons, or those shot at Toulon or Marseilles. 380 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXVI. the dictatorship, and rescue France from its measureless woe. Apparently he could have done it with ease. He refused ; persistently and reiteratedly refused. What were his motives none now can tell. Some say cowardice prevented him ; others affirm that true devotion to the Republic forbade him. The fact alone remains ; he refused the dictatorship, saying again and again, " No ! no Cromwell ; not even I mj^self " Robespierre retired for some weeks from the Committee of Public Safety, while blood was flowing in torrents, and prepared a very elaborate dis- course, to be delivered in the Convention, defending himself and assailing his foes. On the morning of the 26th of July Robespierre appeared in the Con- vention, prepared to speak. His Jacobin friends, forewarned, crowded around him, and his partisans thronged the galleries. His foes were ap- palled, and trembled ; but they rallied all their friends. It was a decisive hour, and life or death was suspended on its issues. The speech, which he read from a carefully-prepared manuscript, was long and exceedingly elo- quent. His foes felt that they were crushed, and a silence as of death for a moment followed its delivery. The printing of the speech was then voted, apparently by acclamation, and the order for its transmission to all the Communes of the Republic. The foes of Robespierre were now emboldened by despair. Their fate seemed sealed, and consequently there was nothing to be lost by any vio- lent struggle in self-defense. Cambon ventured an attack, boldly declaring, "One single man paralyzes the National Convention, and that man is Rob- espierre." Others followed with more and more vigorous blows. Robes- pierre was amazed at the audacity. The charm of his invincibility was gone. It soon appeared that there was a strong party opposed to Robes- pierre, and by a large majority it was voted to revoke the resolution to print the speech. Robespierre, mute with alarm, left the Convention, and hastened to his friends in the Club of Jacobins. He read to them the speech which the Convention had repudiated. They received it with thunders of applause and with vows of vengeance. Robespierre, fainting with exhaustion, said, in conclusion, " Brothers, you have heard my last will and testament. I have seen to- day that the league of villains is so strong that I can not hope to escape them. I yield without a murmur ! I leave to you my memory ; it will be dear to you, and you will defend it." Many were affected even to tears, and, crowding around him, conjured him to rally his friends in an insurrection. Henriot declared his readiness to march his troops against the Convention. Robespierre, knowing that death was the inevitable doom of the defeated party, consented, saying, "Well, then, let us separate the wicked from the weak. Free the Con- vention from those who oppress it. Advance, and save the country. If in these generous efforts we fail, then, my friends, you shall see me drink hem- lock calmly." David, grasping his hand, enthusiastically exclaimed, "Robespierre, if you drink hemlock, I will drink it with you." " Yes," interrupted a mul- 1794.] FALL OF ROBESPIERRE. 381 titude of voices, " all ! we all will perish with you. To die with you is to die with the people." One or two of Kobespierre's opponents had followed him from the Con- vention to the Hall of the Jacobins. Couthon pointed them out and de- nounced them. The Jacobins fell upon them and drove them out of the house wounded and with rent garments. With difl&culty they escaped with their lives. Robespierre witnessed this violence, and dreading the effects of a general insurrection, withdrew his consent to adopt means so lawless and desperate. He probably felt that, strongly supported as he was, he would be able the next day to triumph in the Convention. "At this refusal," says Lamartine, "honest, perhaps, but impolitic, Cof- finghal, taking Payan by the arm and leading him out of the room, said, " ' You see plainly that his virtue could not consent to insurrection. Well ! since he will not be saved, let us prepare to defend ourselves and to avenge him.' " The night was passed by both parties in preparing for the decisive strife of the next day. The friends of Eobespierre were active in concerting, in, all the quarters of Paris, a rising of the people to storm the Convention. Tallien, Barras, Frerou, Fouche, slept not. They were informed of all that had passed at the Jacobins, and their emissaries brought them hourly intel- ligence through the night of the increasing tumult of the people. They made vigorous preparations for the debate within the walls and for the de- fense of the doors against the forest of pikes with which it was about to be assailed. Barras was intrusted with the military defense. It was resolved that Robespierre should be cried down and denounced by internal tumult and not permitted to spea]>:. Each party, not knowing the strength of its opponents, was sanguine of success. The morning of the 27th of July dawned, and as Robespierre entered the Convention, attired with unusual care, and with a smile of triumph upon his lips, silence and stillness reigned through the house. St. Just, in behalf of Eobespierre, commenced the onset. A scene of tumult immediately ensued of which no adequate description can be given. Robespierre immediately saw that his friends were far outnumbered by his foes, and was in despair. Pale and excited, he attempted to ascend the tribune. Tallien seized by the coat and dragged him away, while cries of Doiun with the tyrant filled the house.* "Just now," shouted Tallien, taking the tribune from which he had ejected Robespierre, " I demanded that the curtain should be withdrawn ; it is so ; the conspirators are unmasked and liberty will triumph. Up to this moment I had preserved utter silence because I was aware that the tyrant had made a list of proscriptions. But I was present at the sitting of the Jacobins. I beheld the formation of the army of this second Cromwell, and I armed myself with this poniard, with which to pierce his heart if the Na- tional Convention had not the courage to order his arrest." * The full report of this terrible scene, as contained in the Moniteur of the 11th Thermidor, is one of the most exciting narratives in history. In the conflict Robespierre appears immeasurably superior to his opponents in dignity and argument. But he is overwhelmed and crushed by the general clamor. He struggles valiantly, and falls like a strong man armed. 382 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXVI E0BE8PIERRE ATTEMPTTNO ms DUTENSE. With these words he drew a da.crger and pointed it menacingly at the breast oi Kobespierre. At the same time he moved the arrest of Henriot and otners ol the leadmg men of that party. The motion was tumultuoiisly car- ">>; fV, ^''^'" Robespierre attempted to gain a hearing. Cries of "Down with tlie tyrant" filled the house, and menaces, reproaches, and insults were 1794.] FALL OF ROBESPIERRE. 333 heaped upon him without measure. The wretched man, overwhelmed by the clamor, turned pale with indignation, and shouted " President of assas- sins, will you hear me?" " No! no! no!" seemed to be the unanimous re- sponse. In the midst of the uproar Louchet moved the arrest of Kobespierre. The proposition was received with thunders of applause.* The brother of Kobespierre, a young man of gentle, affectionate nature and many virtues, who was universally esteemed, now rose, and said, " I am as guilty as my brother. I have shared his virtues, I wish to share his fate." Robespierre instantly interposed, saying, " I accept my condemnation. I have deserved your hatred. But, crime or virtue, my brother is not guilty of that which you strike in me." Shouts and stamping drowned his voice. As cries of Vive la Repuhlique rose on all sides, Robespierre quietl}^ folded his arms, and, with a contempt- uous smile, exclaimed, " The Republic ! it is destroyed ; for scoundrels tri- umph." It was now three o'clock in the afternoon. The two Robespierres, Couthon, St. Just, and Lebus were led by geiis crarmes from the Convention across the Place du Carrousel to the Hotel de Brionne, where the Commit- tee of General Stifet}^ were in session. A crowd followed the prisoners with derision and maledictions. As Xh.Qj entered the Carrousel a procession of carts, containing forty-five victims on their way to the guillotine, met them. After a very brief examination Robespierre was sent to the Luxembourg. His confederates w^cre distributed among the other prisons of Paris. The Mayor of Paris and Hen riot were in the mean time active in endeavors to excite an insurrection to rescue the prisoners. The following proclamation was issued from the Hotel de Ville : " Brothers and friends ! the country is in imminent danger I The wicked have mastered the Convention, where they hold in chains the virtuous Rob- espierre. To arms ! to arms ! Let us not lose the fruits of the 18th of Au- gust and the 2d of June." Henriot, waving his sword, swore that he would drag the scoundrels who voted the arrest of Robespierre through the streets tied to the tail of his horse. This brutal man was now in such a state of intoxication as to be in- capable of decisive action. Flourishing a pistol, he mounted his horse, and, with a small detachment of troops, galloped to the Luxembourg to rescue his friend. He was met on the way by the troops of the Convention, who had been ordered to arrest him. They seized him, dragged him from his horse, bound him with their belts, and threw him into a guard-house, almost dead-drunk. In tlie mean time the populace rescued all the prisoners, and carried them in triumph to the mayor's room at the Hotel de Ville. Robes- pierre, however, notwithstanding the most earnest entreaties of the Jacobins and the municipal government, refused to encourage or to accept the insur- rection, or to make escape from arrest. "Made prisoner," writes Lamar- * "In tho heipht of the terrible conflict, when Robespierre seemed deprived by rage of the power of articulation, a voice cried out, ' It is Danton's blood that ?'.•? choking you.'' Robespierre, indignant, recovered his voice and courage to exclaim, ' Danton ! Is it, then, Danton you regret? Cowards ! why did you not defend him ?' There was spirit, truth, and even dignity in this bitter j^etort — the last words that Robespierre ever spoke in public." — Quarterly Review^ 384 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXVI. tine, " by command of his enemies, lie resolved either to triumph or fall submissive to the law only ; added to which, he firmly believed the Kevolu- tionary Tribunal would acquit him of all laid to his charge ; or, if not, and if even condemned to death, ' the death of one just man,' said he, ' is less hurtful to the Eepublic than the example of a revolt against the national representation.' " News was brought to the Hotel de Ville of the arrest of Henriot. CoflQ.n- hal. Vice-president of the Eevolutionary Tribunal, immediately rallied the mob, rushed to the Tuileries, released Henriot, who was by this time some- what sobered, and brought him back to the Hotel de Ville. Henriot, exas- perated by his arrest, placed himself at the head of his troops and marched with a battery against the Convention. At this stage of the affair no one could judge which party would be victorious. The city government, with the populace at its disposal, was on one side ; the Convention, with its friends, on the other.* It was now seven o'clock in the evening, and the deputies of the Conven- tion, fully conscious of their peril, seemed almost speechless with terror. Eobespierre and his confederates were rescued and protected by the city government; the mob was aroused, and the National Guard, under their leader, Henriot, were marching against the Convention. The Revolutionary Tribunal, which alone could condemn Robespierre, it was feared would ac- quit him by acclamation. He would then be led back in triumph to the Convention, and his foes would be speedily dragged to the guillotine. The dismal tolling of the tocsin now was heard ; in the Jacobin Club the oath was taken to live or die with Robespierre ; the rallying masses were crowd- ing in from the faubourgs ; cannon were pointed against the Convention ; and three thousand young students seized their arms and rendezvoused as a body-guard for Robespierre. In this critical hour the Convention, nerved by despair, adopted those measures of boldness and energy which could alone save them from destruc- tion. As they were deliberating, Henriot placed his artillery before their doors and ordered them to be blown open. The deputies remained firmly in their seats, saying, " Here is our post, and here we will die." The friends of the Convention, who crowded the galleries, rushed out and spread them- selves through the streets to rally defenders for the laws. Several of the deputies also left the hall, threw themselves among the soldiers, and, remon- strating with them, pointed to Henriot, and said, " Soldiers ! look at that drunken man ! who but a drunkard would ever point his arms against his country or its representatives? Will you, who have ever deserved so much from your country, cast shame and dishonor on her now ?" The Convention had outlawed Henriot and appointed Barras to the com- mand of the National Guard in his place. The soldiers began to waver. Henriot, affrighted, put spurs to his horse and fled. Barras, an energetic man, was now in command, and the tide had thus suddenly and strongly * The state of the times is ilhistratcd by the fact that Barrere is reported to have gone to the Convention with two speeches in his pocket, one assailing Robespierre and the other defending him. He knew not which party would triumph, and he was prepared to join the strongest. 1794.] FALL OF ROBESPIERRE. 385 DEMONSTRATION AGAIN6T THE CONVENTION, HEADED BY HENEIOT, turned in favor of the Convention. It was now night, and the gleam of ten thousand torches was reflected from the multitudes surging through the streets, Barras, on horseback, with a strong retinue, traversed the central quarters of Paris, rallying the citizens to the defense of the Convention. Eighteen hundred bold, well-armed men w^ere soon marshaled before the doors. With two other bands he marched along parallel streets to the Place de Gr^ve, where he drove off the disorderly crowd and secured all the ap- Bb 386 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXVI. proaches to the Hotel de Ville. Kobespierre was still in one of the rooms of the Hotel de Ville, surrounded bj his confederates and by the members of the city government. They implored him to authorize an insurrection, assuring him that his name would rally the populace and rescue them all from inevitable death. But Kobespierre persistently refused, declaring that he would rather die than violate the laws established by the people. A detachment of soldiers, sent by Barras, cautiously ascended the steps, and entered the Salle de VEgalite to rearrest the rescued prisoners. As they were ascending the stairs Lebas discharged a pistol into his heart and fell dead. The younger Kobespierre leaped from the window into the court- yard, breaking his leg by his fall. Coffinhal, enraged in contemplating the ruin into which the drunken imbecility of Henriot had involved them, seized him and threw him out of a window of the second story upon a pile of rub- bish, exclaiming, " Lie there, wretched drunkard ! You are not worthy to die on a scaf- fold !" Robespierre sat calmly at a table, awaiting his fate. One of the gens cCarmes discharged a pistol at him. The ball entered his left cheek, fractur- ing his jaw and carrying away several of his teeth. His head dropped upon the table, deluging with blood the papers which were before him. The troops of the Convention now filled the Hotel de Ville, arresting all its in- mates. The day was just beginning to dawn as the long file of prisoners were led out into the Place de Gr^ve to be conducted to the hall of the Con- vention.* First came Robespierre, borne by four men on a litter. His fractured jaw was bound up by a handkerchief, which was steeped in blood. Couthon was paralytic in his limbs. Unable to walk, he was also carried in the arms of several men. They had carelessly let him fall, and his clothes were torn, disarranged, and covered with mud. Robespierre the younger, stunned by his fall and with his broken limb hanging helplessly down, was conveyed insensible in the arms of two men. The corpse of Lebas was borne next in this sad train, covered with a table-cloth spotted with his blood. Then fol- lowed St. Just, bareheaded, with dejected countenance, his hands bound be- hind him. Upward of eighty members of the city government, bound two and two, completed the melancholy procession. It was five o'clock in the morning when the captives were led to the Tuil- eries. In the mean time Legendre had marched to the assembly-room of the Jacobins, dispersed them, locked their doors, and brought the keys to the President of the Convention.f Robespierre was laid upon a table in an anteroom, while an interminable crowd pressed in and around to catch a sight of the fallen dictator. The un- happy man was overwhelmed with reproaches and insults, and feigned death to escape this moral torture. The blood was freely flowing from his wound, * Though it has penerally been represented that Robespierre attempted to commit suicide, the evidence now seems to be conchisive that he did not. See Lamartine's History of the Girond- ists, vol. iii., p. 527. t Legendre, the butcher, was a deputy of the Convention. He was a man of extraordinary nerve, and had been one of the most furious members of the society of Jacobins. — Biog.UniverselU, 1794.] FALL OF ROBESPIERRE. 387 BOmriEEEE IT.»0 WOUmEI. 0» Tm T«m.. ™ TI.E CTT EM..., coaeuktii," in Ins ,,,....11,, and ctoking l.im as it trickled dmvn Ws tkroat ThfrTmh.g was intcscl.y hot; not abreath of pure a.r could , be wound d man "bale -insatiable thirst and a burning fever consumed h,m ; an bus r en ah cd for more than an hour, enduring the nitensest pangs of bod ly have consiened the Deputies to the gudlotme. . , , . » m,p Tt five o'clock the carts of the cond.-mned received the prisoners.* The * There is some confusion respecting the dates of these events; but we follow the dates as given by Lamartine. 388 THE FEENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXYl. and with broken bones, were thrown into the first cart with the corpse of Lebas. As the cart jolted over the pavement shrieks of anguish were ex- BOBEBPIEBBE AND FIS OOMFANIONS LED TO EZKOUTION. torted from the victims. At six o'clock they reached the steps of the guil- lotine. Eobespierre ascended the scaffold with a firm step ; but, as the exe- cutioner brutally tore the bandage from his inflamed wound, he uttered a shriek of torture which pierced every ear. The dull sullen sound of the falling axe was heard, and the head of Robespierre fell ghastly into the bas- ket. For a moment there was silence, and then the crowd raised a shout as if a great victory had been achieved and the long-sought blessings of the Revolution attained.* Thus died Robespierre, in the thirty-fifth year of his age. His character will probably ever remain a myster3\ " His death was the date and not the cause of the cessation of terror. Deaths would have ceased by his triumphs, as they did by his death. Thus did Divine justice dishonor his repentance, * "Robespierre," said Napoleon, "was by no means the worst character who fifxured in the Revolution. He opposed trying the queen. He was not an atheist ; on the contrary, he had publicly maintained the existence of a Supreme Being in opposition to many of his colleagues. Neither was he of opinion that it was necessary to exterminate all priests and nobles, like many others. Marat, for example, maintained that it was necessary that six hundred thousand heads should fall. Robespierre wanted to proclaim the king an outlaw, and not to go through the ri- diculous mockery of trying him. Robespierre was a fanatic, a monster, but he was incorrupti- ble, and incapable of robbing or causing the deaths of others either from personal enmity or a de- sire of enriching himself. He was an enthusiast, but one who really believed that he was acting right, and died not worth a sou. In some respects Robespierre maybe said to have been an hon- est man." — Napoleon at St. Helena, p. 590. 1794.] THE THERMIDORIANS AND THE JACOBINS. " 389 and cast misfortune on his good intentions, making of his tomb a gulf filled up. It has made of his memory an enigma of which history trembles to pro- nounce the solution, fearing to do him injustice if she brand it as a crime, or to create horror if she should term it a virtue. This man was, and must ever remain, shadowy and undefined."* Twenty -two were beheaded with Robespierre. The next day seventy who were arrested at the Hotel de Ville were sent to the guillotine. The follow- ing day twelve more bled upon the scaffold. In three days one hundred and fourteen perished, untried, by that tyranny which had supplanted the tyranny of Eobespierre.f CHAPTER XXXVII. THE THERMIDORIANS AND THE JACOBINS. The Reign of Committees. — The Jeunesse Dorde. — The Reaction. — Motion against Fouquier Tinville. — Apotheosis of Rousseau. — Battle of Fleurus. — Brutal Order of the Committee of Public Welfare. — Composition of the two Parties. — Speech of Billaud Varcnncs. — Speech of Legendre. — The Club-house of the Jacobins closed. — Victories of Pichcgru. — Alliance between Holland and France. — Advance of Kleber. — Peace with Prussia. — Quiberon. — Riot in Lyons. The fall of Robespierre was hailed with general enthusiasm, for he was believed to be the chief instigator of that carnage which, in reality, at the time of his fall, he was struggling to repress. There were now in the Con- vention the headless remains of four parties, the Girondists, Hebcrtists, Dan- tonists, and Robespierrians. The able leaders of all these parties had, each In their turn, perished upon the scaffold. There now arose from these ruins a party, which was called, as we have before remarked, Thermidorians, from the month Thermidor {July\ in which its supremacy commenced. A new government was immediately and noiselessly evolved, the result of necessity. The extreme concentration of power in the Committee of Public Safety, over * History of the Girondists, by Lamartine, vol. iii., p. 535. t " Mirabeau, Marat, Brissot, Danton, Robespien-e were all heads cut off in succession; and all succeeding heads were saved only by having recourse to one head and one arm in the Em- peror Napoleon." — Life and Works of John Adams, vol. vi., p. 547. Though Mirabeau died a natural death, he would unquestionably have been guillotined had he lived a few months longer. Meda, the officer of the Convention who arrested Robespierre and his associates at the H6tel de Ville, thus describes the event: "The head of my column moved fonvard ; a terrible noise ensued; my ten pieces of artillery were brought forward and ready; those opposed to me in like manner. I threw myself between the two lines. I flew to the cannoneers of the enemy. I spoke to them of their countri' ; of the respect due to the national representation ; in short, I do not well remember what I said, but the result was that they all came over to us. I instantly dis- mounted, seized my pistols, addressed myself to my grenadiers, and made for the stair-case of the Hotel de Ville." He describes the manner in which he forced his way up the stairs, broke open the door, and found about fifty people assembled in the room in great confusion. Robes- pierre was sitting at a table, his head leaning upon his hand. "I rushed upon him," he contin- ues, in his narrative, "presented my sabre to his breast, 'Yield, traitor,' I cried. 'It is thou art the traitor,' he replied, 'and I will have thee shot.' I instantly drew out one of my pistols, and fired at him. I aimed at his breast, but the ball hit him about the chin, and shattered all his left jaw. He fell from his chair. At the sound of the explosion his brother threw himself through the window. The uproar was immense. I cried ' Vive la R^publique !' " 390 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXXVII. which Eobespierre had been supposed to rule as a dictator, was now succeed- ed by a dissemination of power, wide and ineffective. Sixteen committees became the executive of France ; one Assembly its legislative power. These committees were composed of members numbering from twelve to fifty. The Committee of Public Welfare contained twelve, and superintended military and diplomatic operations ; that of General Safety sixteen, and had the di- rection of the police ; that of Finance forty-eight. Such was the new gov- ernment, under which, after the fall of Eobespierre, the Republic struggled along. The horrors of the Reign of Terror were now producing a decided reac- tion. Many of the young men of Paris, who abhorred the past scenes of vi- olence, organized themselves into a band called the Jeunesse Doree, or Gilded Youth, and commenced vigorous opposition to the Jacobins. They wore a distinctive dress, and armed themselves with a short club loaded with lead. Frequent conflicts took place in the streets between the two parties, in which the Jeunesse Doree were generally victorious. The Terrorists having be- come unpopular, and being in the decided minority, the guillotine was soon allowed to rest. Mercy rapidly succeeded cruelty. The captives who crowd- ed the prisons of Paris were gradually liberated, and even the Revolution- ary Tribunal was first modified and then abolished. The reaction was so strong, annulling past decrees, liberating suspected Loyalists, and punishing violent Revolutionists, that even many of the tniy ▲POTUSOBIB OF BOUSBEAU, OCTOIIEE 11, 1T94. 1794.] THE THERMIDORIANS AND THE JACOBINS. 391 friends of popular rights were alarmed lest the nation should drift back again under the sway of old feudal despotism. M. Frdron, in the following terms, moved, in the Convention, an act of accusation against the execrable Fouquier Tinville, who had been public accuser: " I demand that the earth be at length delivered from that monster, and that Fouquier be sent to hell, there to wallow in the blood he has shed." The decree was passed by acclamation. In the space of eight or ten days after the fall of llobespiei-re, out of ten thousand suspected persons not one remained in the prisons of Paris.* For many weeks nothing of moment oc- curred in the Convention but the petty strife of fections. On the 11th of October the remains of Rousseau were transferred to the Pantheon with all the accompaniments of funeral pageantry. They were deposited by the side of the remains of Voltaire. Upon his tomb were inscribed the words, " Here reposes the man of nature and of truth." About a month before the flill of Robespierre, on the 26th of June, the celebrated battle of Fleurus was fought. The sanguinary engagement ex- tended along a semicircle nearly thirty miles in extent. The French had brought up about eighty thousand troops to oppose an equal number of the Allies. The French, under Pichegru, were victorious at every point, and the Allies were compelled to retreat. They rallied for a short time in the BATTI^ OF FI.EntrS. vicinity of Brussels, but were soon again compelled to letire, and all Bel- gium fell into the hands of the Republicans. * Lacretelle. 392 • THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChaP. XXXVii. About the middle of July two armies of the French, amounting to one hundred and fifty thousand, effected a junction in the city of Brussels. The Committee of Public Safety had passed an inhuman decree that no quarter should be given to the English. The soldiers refused obedience to this de- cree. A sergeant, having taken some English prisoners, brought them to an officer. " Why did you spare their lives?" the ofl&cer inquired. "Because," the sergeant replied, "it was saving so manj^ shots." " True," rejoined the of&cer, " but the Kepresentatives will oblige us to shoot them." " It is not we," retorted the sergeant, " who will shoot them. Send them to the Kepresentatives. If they are barbarous enough, why, let them kill and eat them if they like."* While the French armies were gaining these signal victories all along the Ehine, war was raging with almost equal ferocity in the ravines of the Alps and at the base of the Pyrenees, as the Republicans struggled to repel the invading hosts of Austria, England, and Spain. The Thermidorians and the Jacobins were now the two great parties struggling for power all over France. The Thermidorians were the mod- erate conservative party, and the Jacobins called them Aristocrats. The Jacobins were the radical, progressive, revolutionary party, and the Ther- midorians called them Terrorists. The more intelligent and reputable por- tion of the community were with the Thermidorians ; the women, weary of turmoil and blood, were very generally with them ; and the very efiicient military band of young men called the Jeunesse Doree (gilded youth), who be- longed to the rich and middle classes, were very efiicient supporters of this party, hurling defiance upon the Jacobins, and ever ready for a street fray with their clubs. The Jacobins were composed of the mob, generally head- ed by those vigorous, reckless, determined men who usually form what Thiers calls "the ferocious democracy." Freron's journal. The Orator of the People, was the eloquent advocate of the Thermidorians, now rising rapidly to power, and it lanched incessant and merciless anathemas against the rev- oluiioiiary canaille. The females who advocated Jacobinism were called the furies of the guillotine, because they had frequently formed circles around the scafibld, assailing the victims with ribald abuse. These two parties were so equally divided, and the strife was so fierce between them, that scenes of fearful uproar frequently took place not only in the Convention but through- out all France. The spirit of the Jacobins at this time may be seen in the following brief extract from a speech of Billaud Varennes : " People talk," said he, " of shootings and drownings, but they do not rec- ollect that the individuals for whom they feel pity had furnished succors to the banditti. They do not recollect the cruelties perpetrated on our volun- teers, who were hanged upon trees and shot in files. If vengeance is de- manded for the banditti, let the families of two hundred thousand Republic- ans, mercilessly slaughtered, come also to demand vengeance. The course of counter- revolutionists is known. When, in the time of the Constituent Assembly, they wanted to bring the Revolution to trial, they called the Jac- * Thiers, vol. iii., p. 84. 1794.J THE THERMIDORIANS AND THE JACOBINS. 893 obins disorganizers and shot them in the Field of Mars. After the 2d of September, when they wanted to prevent the establishment of the Republic, they called them quaffers of blood and loaded them with atrocious calumnies. They are now recommencing the same machinations ; but let them not ex- pect to triumph. The Patriots have been able to keep silence for a moment, but the lion is not dead when he slumbers, and when he awakes he exter- minates all his enemies. The trenches are open, the Patriots are about to rouse themselves and to resume all their energy. We have already risked our lives a thousand times. If the scaffold awaits us, let us recollect that it was the scaffold which covered the immortal Sidney with glory." This speech, reported in the journal of the Jacobins, called the Journal de la Moidagne, created great excitement, and gave rise to one of the stormiest debates in the Convention. The Jacobins were accused of wishing to di- rect the mob against the Convention. They, on the other hand, accused the Thermidorians of releasing well-known Eoyalists from prison, and of thus encouraging a counter-revolution. Legendre, speaking in behalf of the Thermidorians, in reply to the Jacobins, said, " What have you to complain of, you w^ho are constantly accusing us ? Is it because citizens are no longer sent to prison by hundreds ? because the guillotine no longer dispatches fifty, sixty, or eighty persons per day ? Ah ! I must confess that in this point our pleasure differs from yours, and that our manner of sweeping the prisons is not the same. We have visited them ourselves ; we have made, as far as it was possible to do so, a distinction be- tween the Aristocrats and the Patriots ; if we have done wrong, here are our heads to answer for it. But while we make reparation for crimes, while we are striving to make you forget that those crimes are your own, why do you go to a notorious society to denounce us, and to mislead the people who at- tend there, fortunately in no great numbers ? I move that the Convention take measures to prevent its members from going and preaching up rebel- lion at the Jacobins'." .^ The conflict extended from the Convention into the streets, and for sever- al days there were serious riots. Angry groups in hostile bands paraded the gardens of the Tuileries and the Palais Royal — the partisans of the Ther- midorians shouting ^'- Down with the Terrorists and Rohespierre^s tail." Their opponents shouted " The Jacobins forever ! Down with the Aristocrats f" On the 9th of November there was a battle between the two parties in the Rue St. Honore, in and around the hall of the Jacobins, which lasted for several hours. A number of the women, called Furies of the Guillotine, who mingled in the fray, were caught by the Jeunesse Doree^ and, in defiance of all the rules of chivalry, had their clothes stripped from their backs and were ignominiously whipped. It was midnight before the disturbance was quelled. A stormy debate ensued next day in the Convention. " Wliero has tyranny," said Rewbel, " been organized ? At the Jacobins'. Where has it found its supporters and satellites? At the Jacobins'. Who have covered France with mourning, carried despair into fomilies, filled the country with prisons, and rendered the Republic so odious that a slave, pressed down by the weight of his irons, would refuse to live under it? Tte Jacobins. Who regret the frightful government under which we have Vol. II.— H 594 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXVII. lived ? The Jacobins. If you have not now the courage to declare your- selves, you have no longer a Republic, because you have Jacobins." Influenced by such sentiments, the Convention passed a decree " to close the door of places where factions arise and where civil war is preached." THE CLUB-HOUSE OF THE JACOBINS CLOSET). Thus terminated the long reign of the Jacobin Club. The act was greeted with acclaim by the general voice of France.* The French, who had twelve hundred thousand men under arms, were now in possession of all the important points on the Rhine, and every where ,held their assailants at bay.f The latter part of December, Pichegru, driv- ing the allied Dutch, English, and Austrians before him, crossed the Meuse on the ice and entered Holland. The Republican party in Holland was numerous and detested their rulers. They immediately prepared to rise and welcome their friends, the French. In this desperate situation the Stadt- holder implored a truce, offering as a condition of peace neutrality and in- demnification for the expenses of the war.:}: Pichegru refused the truce ; but sent the terras of peace for the consideration of the government in Paris. The proffered terms were refused, and Pichegru was ordered to press on and restore the Dutch Republic. At the head of two hundred thousand troops he spread, like a torrent, over all Holland. He was every where received with open arms and as a deliverer. The Allies, with the emigrants, fled in all directions, some by land and some by sea. A portion of the Dutch fleet, at anchor near the Texel, was frozen in by the unparalleled severity of the * "This popular body had powerfully served the Revolution when, in order to repel Europe, it was necessary to place the government in the multitude, and to give tlie Republic all the en- ergy of defense ; but now it only obstructed the new order of things." — Mignet, 282. t "At one time France had seventeen hundred thousand fighters on foot." — Toulongeon, vol. iii., p. 194. t Thiers, vol. iii., p. 186. 1795.] THE THERMIDORIANS AND THE JACOBINS. 395 winter. A squadron of horse-artillery galloped across the ice and sum- moned it to surrender. The fleet was compelled to strike its flags to these novel assailants. On the 20th of January, 1795, Pichegru entered Amster- dam in triumph. The inhabitants crowded from the walls to meet him, shouting " The French Republic forever ! Liberty forever T THE FRENCH ENTEEING AMSTERDAM ON THE ICE. Holland, organizing as the Republic of the United Provinces, on the 16th of May entered into an alliance offensive and defensive with the French Re- public, to be perpetual during the continuance of the war. The two mfant republics needed mutual support to resist the combined monarchies of En- gland and the Continent.* While Pichegru was gaining such victories on the Lower Rhine and in Holland, Kleber was also, on the Upper Rhine, driving the Austrians before him. He boldly crossed the river in the impetuous pursuit, and carried the horrors of war into the enemies' country. Soon, however, he was crowded with such numbers of antagonists that he was compelled, in his turn, to commence a retreat. Again, re-enforcements arriving, he assumed the offens- ive. Thus the tide of war ebbed and flowed. Prussia, alarmed by these signal victories of the Republican troops, and threatened with invasion, was anxious to withdraw from the coalition. The • «'The first act of the Representatives was to publish a i)roclaTnation, in which they declared that they would respect all private property, excpptinn, however, that of the Stadtholder ; that the latter, being the only foe of the French Republic, his property belonrrcd to the conquerors as an indemnification for the expenses of the war ; that the French entered as friends of the Bata- vian nation, not to impose upon it any religion or any form of frovernment whatever, but to deliver it from its oppressors, and to confer upon it the means of exjjrcssing its wishes. This proclama- tion, followed up by corresponding acts, produced a most favorable impression." — Thiers, vol. iii., p. 184. 396 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXX VII. THE PKENCH OKOSSrNG THE EIIINE UNDEK KLEBEB. king sent a commissioner to Pichegra's head-quarters to propose peace. Tlie commissioners from the two countries met at Basle, and on the 5th of April a treaty of peace was signed. The French agreed to evacuate the Prussian provinces they had occupied on the right bank of the Rhine, and the Prussian monarchy agreed that there should be peace, amity, and a good understanding between the King of Prussia and the French Republic. Spain, also, trembling in view of the triumphant march of Dugommier through the defiles of the Pyrenees, made proposals of accommodation, promising to acknowledge the Republic and to pay indemnities for the war. Peace with the Peninsula was signed at Basle on the 12th of July. This peace, which detached a Bourbon from the coalition, was hailed throughout France with transports of joy.* England, Austria, and Naples still remained firm in their determination to crush the Republic. William Pitt led the ministry with his warlike measures, and triumphed over the peaceful policy of Sheridan and Fox. He thus, for a quarter of a century, converted all Europe into a field of blood. Roused by the energies of Pitt, tlic English government organized a very formidable expedition, to be landed in La Vendee, to rouse and rally the Royalists all over France, and thus to reinvigorate the energies of civil war. A squadron was fitted out, consisting of three 74-gun ships, two frig- ates of 44 guns, four frigates of 30 to 36 guns, and several gun-boats and * "Tuscany, forced, in spite of herself, to give up her neutrality by the English embassador, who, threatening her with an English squadron, had allowed her but twelve hours to decide, was impatient to resume her part, especially since the French were at the gates of Genoa. Good understanding and friendship were re-established between the two states." — Thiers, vol. iii., p. 230. ;.795.] THE THEKMIDOIUANS AND THE JACOBINS. 397 VICTORY OF QUlIiEKON. transports. This was the first division, which, as soon as it was established in Franco, was to be followed by another. The fleet came to anchor in the Bay of Quiberon on the 25th of June. A motley mass of about seven thousand men were speedily landed ; the Royalists soon joined them, mak- ing an army of some thii-teen thousand. General Iloche, who had for some time been valiantly and most humanely struggling for the pacification of MA88AOBK IN LYON 8 LED BY TIIK FBIESTB. 398 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXVIII. La Vendue, marched to repel them. A few bloody battles ensued, in which the unhappy invaders were driven into a narrow penmsula, where, by a midnight assault, they most miserably perished. A few only escaped to the ships ; many were drowned, and a large number were mercilessly put to the sword. The Convention had decreed the penalty of death to any Frenchman who should enter France with arms in his hands. At Lyons there was a general rising of the Royalists and the reactionary party against the Revolutionists. The Royalists proved themselves not one whit behind the Jacobins in the energy with which they could push their Reign of Terror. Led by the priests, the Royalist mob broke into the pris- ons and murdered seventy or eighty prisoners who were accused of revolu- tionary violence. One prison was set on fire, and all its inmates perished miserably in the flames. The disturbances in Lyons were soon quelled, and Hoche, having anni- hilated the force which the English had landed in the Bay of Quiberon, gradually succeeded in introducing tranquillity into La Vendue. Many of the Royalists came to his camp to seek terms of reconciliation with the Re- public. CHAPTER XXXVIII. DISSOLUTION OF THE CONVENTION. Famine in Paris. — Strife between the Jeunesse Doie? and the Jacobins. — Riots. — Scene in the Convention. — War with the Allies. — A new Constitution. — Insurrection of the Sections. — Energy of General Bona])arte. — 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 un- cultivated 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 Theiltre Feydeau, as in many other places, there was a bust of Ma- rat, who was still idolized by the Jacobins. The young men of the Jeunesse Dorde, 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 ex- ecration dragged it through the mire of the streets. 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 1795.] DISSOLUTION OF THE CONVENTION. 399 THE JEUNTO8E DOE^K TUROWINO TUB BUST OF MARAT INTO TUE GITTEE. distress, intense and almost universal, embarrassed and overwhelmed the Con vention with the most difficult questions in the endeavor to afford relief On the loth of March the supply of food in Paris was so small that it was deemed necessary to put the inhabitants upon rations, each individual beino- allowed but one pound of bread per day. Agitation and tumults were now rapidly increasmg, and there were daily riots. The Convention was continually be- 400 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXYIII. sieged 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 Eevolution had yet witnessed. At five in the morning. the generale 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 efl&ciently-organized insurrection. A crowd, mostly of women, filled the galleries. As the plan was read, which appalled the dep- uties, 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 re- ceive orders from the Convention ; and 3d, that there should be no insar- rection. 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 th6 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, sur- rounded them with bristling baj^onets and pikes, and ordered them to issue decrees for the relief of the people. At length, near midnight, a detach- ment of the National Guard arrived, dispersed the crowd around the palace, and, entering the hall with fixed bayonets, scattered the rioters. Tranquil- lity being restored, one of the members rose and said, " It is then true that this Assembly, the cradle of the Eepublic, 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." 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 respect- able inhabitants of Paris shut themselves up in their houses, concealed their valuables, and awaited, with fearful anxiety, the result. Toward evening 1795.] DISSOLUTION OF THE CONVENTION. 401 60ENE IN THE NATIONAL CONVENTION. my brotlier, whom we had not seen during the day, came home to get some- thing to eat ; he was almost famished, not having tasted food since the morn- ing. 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 ap- Cc 402 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXVIII. palling ; mj 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'^Vnglas, 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.' "* Alarmed by the advance of anarchy, the Convention immediately insti- tuted proceedings against several prominent Jacobin members, who were known to be ringleaders of the insurrection. They were arrested and con- signed 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 ap- pointed commander of the armed force. The carriages which conveyed tho arrested deputies to the Castle of Ham had to pass through the Elysian Fields. The Jacobins assembled in strong numbers and endeavored to res- cue 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 mis- tress 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 aug- mented her own naval force to a hundred thousand seamen, put into com- mission one hundred and eight ships of the line, and raised her land forces to one hundred and fifty thousand men.f 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 effi- cient 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 Regime : " 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 ragged- ness, 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 tweiiUj-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 speak- ing thousands, and hundreds, and units, who shrieked and published, and made the world ring with \\\o\r wail, as they could and should; that is the grand peculiarity. The frightfulest births of time are never the loud- * Memoirs of the Duchesse d'Abrantes, p. 90. ■(• Thiers, vol. iii., p. 242. New Annual Register. ^795.] DISSOLUTION OF THE CONVENTION. 403 speaking ones, for these soon die; they are the sHent ones, which live from century to century."* „ , , r .-u mv The'^Koyalist emigrants, taking advantage of the clemency of the Ther- midorians began now to return to France in great numbers, and were very active every where in trying to promote a counter-revolution, and m forming conspiracies to overthrow the Republic and re-establish the Bourbons. They were sui^plied with immense sums of money to expend as bribes. A new Constitution was formed to meet the new emergencies ot the country Instead of one General Assembly, they had two legislative bodies The Senate called the Council of the AncienU, 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 CoancU of the Five Hundred, was to be composed ot mem- bers 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 intru'sted with the executive power, to be renewed annually by one fifth. Thus organized, the ship of state was again launched upon its stormy voy- age, to encounter tempests without and mutiny within. This Constitution w°as the work of the moderate Republican party, and restored the asccnd- encv of the middle class. As such it was obnoxious to the Jacobms.t France was now so rent by hostile parties that no Constitution could long ^^^The old Constituent Assembly had, by a decree which was intended to be very patriotic and self-denying, excluded itself from the Legislative As- sembly which was to succeed it. This act, however, proved to be inju- dicious and disastrous. The Legislative Assembly, wishing to secure a ma- ioritv friendly to moderate Republicanism in the two bodies to be elected under the new Constitution, d'M^eed that two thirds of their own members should be elected to the two new legislative bodies. This decree, which wa^ accepted with great unanimity by France as a whole, was exceedingly ob- noxious to the Royalists and to the Jacobins of Pans, 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 msurrection and the terrors of the mob. There was no excuse for this violence, for the Constitu- tion was accepted almost unanimously by France, and the decrees by an im- mense majority. It was in Paris alone that there was any opposition and even there the opposition was only to the decrees. Still, Roj-^ilists and Jaco- bins 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 Me- nou a kind-hearted man, to surround this section and disarm it. Overawed by the hio-h 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. * Carlvle's History of the French Revolution, vol. ii., p. 460. .^ ^ t "This Constitution was the host, 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."— 3/t(7ncr, p. 301. 404 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXVIIL Napoleon Bonaparte was then in Paris, out of employment, and was that evening at the Theatre 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 elSfect which would be produced upon that body b}^ the tidings of the retreat of Menou.* 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 intrepiditv 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 re- quested that General Bonaparte should be appointed as his second in com- mand. 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 fortj'-five thou- sand. 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. NAPOLEON BEFORE THE CONVENTION. "Are you willing," inquired the president, "to undertake the defense of the Convention ?" " Yes," was the laconic reply. * Las Casas. 1795.] DISSOLUTION OF THE CONVENTION. 405 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 Con- vention." 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, concen- trated 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 accomplish- ment 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 al- most 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 depot in the Tuileries. A hospital for the wound- ed was established in the palace, provided with necessaries for every emerg- ency. 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 Vendome, and in the Place de la Eevolution. A strong detachment was sent to occupy the heights of Meudon, Napoleon in- tending 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, Napo- leon 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 insur- rectionary 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, ofifered their services to lead the attack upon the Convention. Gen- 406 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXVIII. eral Danican, a Royalist, who had been a general of brigade in the civil war which had desolated La Vendee, 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 generale beating. The armed hosts of the sections were mustering at their appointed rendezvous and pre- paring to march upon the Convention. The members, in their seats, in si- lence and awe awaited the assault,^ upon the issue of which their lives were suspended. Napoleon, pale, solemn, and perfectly calm, was waiting, re- solved that the responsibility of the first blow should fall upon his assail- ants, 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 ev- ery battery. A storm of grape swept the streets. The columns of the as- sailants 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 ad- vance 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. Honore. 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.* 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 him- self to inquire how he had passed the night. I can not recollect his conduct at that period without sincere gratitude. * There is no cxapRcration 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 accomjianiments — conflagration, robbery, pillage, and murder. Justice was interrupted; the sword of the law wield- ed by iniquity ; projierty spoliated ; confiscation rendered the order of the day ; the scaffold per- manently erected ; calumnious denunciations held in the highest estimation. Nothing was want- ing to the general desolation." — Hist, de la Conw., vol. ii., p. 2J5, 216. 1795.] DISSOLUTION OF THE CONVENTION. 407 ^ - ~^'i:c£)^M?^^i)" THE SECTIO.NS AT BAINT BOUUE. " He inf(:»rmed 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 turbu- lent, and, in fact, the most to be dreaded. Its orators did not scruple to de- liver 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.' 408 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXVIII. " As I liave said, lie 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 noth- ing. 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 hack- ney 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 dan- gers 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 sec- tions, which for some days past again declared war against it. Paris resem- bled a garrison town. At night we heard the sentries calling to and an- swering 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 draw- ing-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, never- theless I will go myself to the section. I wiU 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 gene- rale 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 lu- natics ! " On the morning of the 12th Vendemiaire (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 Eue de la Loi was bristling with bayonets. Barri- cades were already set up in our streets. On the morning of the 13th (Oc- tober 5) my father was very ill. For some hours we flattered ourselves that 1795.1 DISSOLUTION OF THE CONVENTION. 409 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, calhng 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 hun 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 pre- vented Barras from bombarding Paris ? Do you recollect it ? For my part [ 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 Hke a son — like a brother."* The Convention treated the insurrectionists, who had thus been so severe- ly punished, with the utmost clemency.f Napoleon received the thanks of the Convention and a brilliant reception. The Convention united Bel- gium with France; decreed that the punishment of death should be abolish- ed 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— T'Ae Bepuhlic forever f— 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 * Memoirs of the Duchesse d'Abrantes, p. 118. f " After this memorable conflict, when Bonaparte had been publicly received with enthusiasm by the Convention, Avho declared that he and Barras deserved well of their country, a great change took i>lace 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 respect- able house, Kue des Capucines. In short, he had become an important, a necessary personage, and all without noise, as if by magic." — Duchess o/Abrantes. Vol. IT. -I 410 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXVIII, a nation of twenty -five millions of people, after ages of oppression, constitU' tional liberty. The. Constituent Assembly, which succeeded the States- Greneral, abolished those old institutions of feudal servitude which had be^ come utterly unendurable, and established a constitutional monarchy, taking as a model, in the main, the British Constitution. The Legislative Assem- bly 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 des- potism. It consequently suspended the king, and the Constitution with which his power was inseparably interwoven, and dissolved itself.* 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 discredit- ed, old skeletons of regiments worn out and empty. Thus it was not lib- erty 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 difl&cult task. Without being for a moment daunted, it proclaimed the Eepublic in the face of the hostile armies ; it then sacrificed the king, to cut ofi" 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 pur- sued this purpose for a year; but the parties crushed under its pitiless authority revived under its clemency. Two factions, in which were blend- ed, under infinite variety of shades, the friends and the foes of the Revolu- tion, 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 Re- publican Constitution, and, after a struggle of three years with Europe, with the factions, with itself, mutilated and bleeding, it dissolved itself, and trans- mitted the government of France to the Directory."f * The States-General held its session from May 6, 1789. t Thiers, Fr. Eev., vol. iii., p. 333. 1795.] THE DIRECTORY. 411 CHAPTER XXXIX. THE DIRECTORY. Constitution of the Directory. — Distracted State of Public AflFairs. — New Expedition to LaVen- de'e. — Death of the Daujihin. — Release of the Princess. — Pacification of La Vcnde'e. — Riots in London. — Execution of Charette. — Napoleon takes command of the Army of Italy. — The first Proclamation. — Triumphs in Italy. — Letter of General Hoclie. — Peace with Spain. — Es- tablishment of the Cispadane Republic. — Negotiations with Entriand. — Contemplated Invasion of Ireland. — Memorials of Wolfe Tone. — Deplorable State of Public Affairs. — Description of Napoleon. — Composition of the Directory. The government of tlie Directory went into operation on the 27th of Oc- tober, 1795. The two legislative bodies, the Council of the Ancients and the Council of the Five Hundred, met and chose for the five directors Lare- veill^re Lepeaux, Lc Tourneur, Eewbel, Carnot, and Barras. "Among these," says Thiers, "there was not a man of genius, nor even any man of high reputation, excepting Carnot. But what was to be done at the end of a sanguinary revolution which, in a few years, had devoured several genera- tions of men of genius of every description ? In the Assemblies there was not left one extraordinary orator ; in diplomacy there remained not one cele- brated negotiator."* The state of public affairs at this time was deplorable in the extreme. Innumerable factions disturbed the state. A very sanguin- ary war was raging around the frontiers. The embers of civil war were still smoldering and frequently bursting out into flame. Three powerful parties were struggling almost with the energies of despair for the supremacy — the old Royalists, the Thermidorians or moderate Rei)ublicans, and the Jaco- bins, who wielded, as the great instrument of terror, the energies of the Pa- risian mob. Many of the most intelligent men already foresaw that there was no hope for distracted France but in the action of some mighty mind which could mould the tumultuous elements and evolve order from the con- fusion.f The British government, undismayed by the disaster of Quiberon, now sent another expedition to the shores of La Vendee to rouse the Royalists to insurrection. The expedition consisted of two thousand English in- fantry, five hundred horse, several regiments of French emigrants, a great number of officers to take command of the marshaled peasantry, and arms, ammunition, provisions, clothing, and gold in abundance. Should this ex- pedition successfully land and rally around it the Royalist insurgents in promising numbers, it was immediately to be followed by another still more * Thiers, History of the French Revolution, vol. iii., p. 338. + "France, exhausted by ever)' species of suff"erinp, had lost even the power of uttering a com- I)laint ; and we had all arrived at such a point of dejiression that death, if unattended by pain, would have been wished for even by the youngest human being, because it offered the prospect of repose, and every one panted for that blessing at any price. But it was ordained that many days, months, and years should still continue in that state of horrible agitation, the true foretaste of the torments of hell." — Memoirs of the Duchess ofAbrantes, p. 296. 412 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXIX. powerful. The Count d'Artois (Charles X.) was placed in command of this force. Charette, a very intrepid Kojalist chieftain, had raised some ten thousand peasants, and was in command of the coast to welcome the invad- ers. But General Hoche fell upon the insurgent Vendeeans and scattered them; and the English fleet, after hovering for some time along the coast, being unable to effect a landing, and disappointed in the support they hoped to have met, abandoned the enterprise and returned to England.* While the coast of France was thus threatened the Allies on the Ehine gained some very decisive victories, and drove the routed Eepublicans be- fore them. There was no money in the treasury of the Directory. The paper money, which had been freely issued, had become almost worthless, and the armies were now in destitution and rags. Such were the difficulties with which the new government had to grapple.f On the 8th of June the dauphin died in the Temple. While he lived he was considered by the Eoyalists the legitimate King of France, under the title of Louis XVII. Upon his death the emigrants declared the Count of Provence king, and he assumed the title of Louis XVIII. It will be re- membered that the Convention sent some deputies to arrest Dumouriez, and that he seized these commissioners and handed them over to the Austrians as hostages. The Directory now exchanged the young princess, who still survived in woeful captivity, for these commissioners and a few other distin- guished prisoners held by the Austrians. It was the 19th of December when this unhappy child left her cell, where she had endured agonies such as few on earth had known, to be conveyed back to the palaces of her ma- ternal ancestors. The guns of Napoleon, quelling the insurgent sections, had established the government of the Directory. To secure Paris and France from similar scenes of violence, an imposing force was organized, called the Army of the Interior, and Napoleon was placed in command. As by magic, under his efficient command, this body was organized into the highest discipline and efficiency, and, overawing the discontented, maintained public order, A formidable camp of these troops was established at Grrenelle. But for Na- * A Republican does not view this endeavor on the part of the British government to foment civil war in France as sl Royalist views it. "It is paiu/hl,^' says Mr. Ahson, "to reflect how dif- ferent might have been the issue of the campaign had Great Britain really put forth its strength in the contest, and, instead of landing a few thousand men on a coast bristling with bayonets, sent thirty thousand men to make head against the Republicans till the Royalist forces were so organized as to be able to take the field with regular troops." It was this persistent determina- tion, on the part of the British government and allied Europe, that France should not enjoy free institutions, which led to nearly all the sanguinary scenes of the French Revolution, and which, for nearly a quarter of a century, made Europe red with blood. f "All these forces [of the RepuV)lic] were in a state of extreme penury, and totally destitute of the equipments necessary for the cnrrying on of a campaign. They had neither caissons, nor horses, nor magazines. The soldiers were almost naked and the generals, even, frequently in want of the necessaries of life. Multitudes had taken advantage of the relaxation of authority follow- ing the fall of Robespierre to desert and return to their homes, and the government, so far from being able to bring them back to their colors, were not even able to levy conscripts in the interior to supf)ly their place." — Alison, vol. i., p. 369. Paper money had been issued to the almost incredible amount of 2,000,000,000 dollars, or 10,000,000,000 francs. This paper money had so depreciated that a pound of sugar cost eighty dollars in paper money. 1796.] THE DIRECTORY. 413 poleon the Directory could not have come into being. But for Napoleon it could not have lived a year, struggling against the conspiracies which ever crowded it.* General lloche, operating with singular wisdom and human- ity, succeeded in the pacification of the inhabitants of La Vendue. They surrendered their arms, and peace was restored to that distracted region. Still William Pitt clamored for war against the French Kepublic. The En- glish people were indignant at these unjust assaults against a neighboring nation struggling to throw off the chains of intolerable servitude, and de- manded peace with France. The liberty-loving Englishmen met in immense gatherings in the open air, and denounced the war system in the most bold and decisive resolves. As the king rode to Parliament the populace pur- sued him, pelted his carriage with stones, broke the windows, and it was as- serted that an air-gun was fired at him. Pitt, riding on horseback, was rec- ognized by the populace, and with difficulty escaped from their hands cov- ered with mud. Fox and Sheridan in Parliament were loud and eloquent in the denunciation of the war measures of the ministry.f Pitt endeavored to defend himself against the assaults of the opposition by saying that En- glish blood had not been shed. " True," replied Sheridan, " English blood has not been shed, but English honor has oozed from every pore." The Allies, exhilarated by their successes on the Rhine, prepared to press the war with new visror. Pitt obtained from Parliament a new loan of thirty-five millions of dollars. General Bonaparte was promoted from the command of the Army of the Interior to that of the Army of Italy. He im- mediately entered upon that Italian campaign which gave him renown throughout the world. Though the Vendeeans had surrendered their arms and were rejoicing in the enjoyment of peace, Charette wandered about the country, refusing all overtures at reconciliation, and striving, with great energy, to rouse new forces of insurrection. The entire pacification of La Vendee now depended upon the capture of Charette. "With almost unparalleled energy and brav- ery he succeeded for several months in eluding his foes. At last, on the 24th of March, 1796, he fell into an ambuscade. He was armed to the teeth, and fought with the ferocity of a tiger at bay. He received several sabre- blows before he fell and was secured. At his examination he with dignity averred his detestation of n^publicanism and his devotion to royalty. He had deluged the land with the blood of civil war, and, as a traitor, was doomed to die. On the 30th of March he was led out to execution. A platoon of soldiers was drawn up but a few paces before him. He stood erect, with his eyes unbandaged, and, apparently without the tremor of a nerve, gave the command to fire. He fell dead, pierced by many bullets. He had displayed marvelous heroism in a bad cause. Refusing to submit to laws established by the overwhelming majority of his countrymen, he was deluging the land in blood in the endeavor to rivet again upon France the chains of the most intolerable despotism. The Rovalists all over Eu- rope mourned his death. But France rejoiced, for the fall of Charette ter- minated the civil war. One hundred thousand men had been under the command of General * Thiers, Hist. French Rev., vol. iii., p. 353. t Ibid., vol. iii., p. 364. 414 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [Chap. XXXIJ. l.A OlIARETTE TAKEN PEI80NKR. Hoclie in the strife of La Vendee. These were now at liberty to march to repel the foreign invader. Two powerful armies, of eighty thousand each, were collected on the Ehine. But they could not hold their ground against the outnumbering Austrians. In one of these engagements the distinguished young general Marceau was killed. He was struck by a ball fired by a Tyrolean marksman, and fell from his horse mortally wounded. His sol- diers, on the rapid retreat, were unable to rescue him, and he was left in his blood to the humanity of the victors. The Austrians generously did every thing in their power for his relief, but he died, three days after, in the twenty-seventh year of his age. About thirty thousand French soldiers, in rags, destitute of the munitions of war, and almost famished, were ineffectually struggling against their foes on the southern slopes of the Apennines. Napoleon was placed in com- mand of these starving troops, but the government was unable to supply him with any funds for the prosecution of the war. On the 27th of March he placed himself at the head of these enfeebled and discouraged battalions. Young generals, who subsequently obtained great renown — Angereau, Mas- sena, Laharpe, Serrurier, and Berthier — composed the officers of liis staff. The levy en masse had filled the ranks with J^oung men from good families, well informed, distinctly understanding the nature of the conflict, detesting the old feudal despotism which allied Europe was striving to impose upon them anew, and enthusiastically devoted to the princi})les of liberty and equal rights which the Revolution was endeavoring to implant. Though most of them were young, they had many of tlicin spent years in the field, had seen many bloody battles, and, inured to the hardships of war, w(ire veteran soldiers. Sixty thousand Piedmontese and Austrians, under Colli and Beau- 1796.] THE DIRECTORY. 415 E%» DEATU OF Gt.NiitAI, MaUOEAU. liea, crowded tlie northern slopes and the crest of the mountains, endeavoring to force their way through the defiles upon France. Napoleon's first words to his troops roused them as with electric fire. "Soldiers," said he, "you are ill fed, almost naked. The government owes you much, but can do nothing for you. Your patience, your courage, do you honor, but procure you neither glory nor advantage. I am about to lead you into the most fertile plains in the world. You will there find large cities, rich provinces; you will there find honor, glory, and wealth. Soldiers of Ital}^, will your courage fail you ?" On the 12th of April bis troops were in motion. A series of desperate battles and of resplendent victories ensued. At the close of two weeks Napoleon issued the following proclamation : " Soldiers, in a fortnight you have gained six victories, taken twenty -one pairs of colors, fifty -five pieces of cannon, several fortresses, and conquered the richest part of Piedmont. You have made fifteen thousand prisoners, and killed or wounded more than ten thousand men. You had hitherto been fighting for barren rocks, rendered glorious by your courage, but use- less to the country. You now rival, by your services, the army of Holland and the Rhine. Destitute of every thing, you have supplied all your wants. You have gained battles without cannon, crossed rivers without bridges, made forced marches without shoes, bivouacked without brandy and often without bread. The Republican phalanxes, the soldiers of liberty alone, could have endured what you have endured. Thanks be to you for it, sol- diers. Your grateful country will owe to you its prosperity ; and if your conquest at Toulon foreboded the glorious campaign of 1793, your present 416 • THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChaP. XXXIX. victories forbode one still more glorious. The two armies which so lately attacked you boldly, are fleeing affrighted before you. The perverse men who laughed at your distress, and rejoiced in thought at the triumph of your enemies, are confounded and trembling. "But, soldiers, you have done nothing, since more remains to be done. Neither Turin nor Milan is yours. The ashes of the conquerors of Tarquin are still trampled upon by the murderers of Basseville."* Napoleon now summoned all his energies to drive the Austrians out of Italy. In two months the work was done ; and Paris, France, Europe was electrified by the narrative of deeds of daring and success, such as war had never recorded before. In all the towns and cities of Italy the French armies were received as deliverers, for the subjugated Italians were eager to throw off the hateful yoke of Austrian despotism. Napoleon, having un- bounded confidence in himself, and but very little respect for the weak men who composed the Directory, took all matters of diplomacy, as well as war, into his own hands, and, sustained by the enthusiasm of his soldiers, settled the affairs of Italy according to his own views of expediency. The Royalists, hoping for the overthrow of the Eepublic and for the re- turn of Louis XVIII., were exceedingly chagrined by these victories. They left no means of calumny untried to sully the name of Napoleon. Europe was filled with falsehoods respecting him, and reports were circulated that General Hoche was to be sent from Paris to arrest him in the midst of his army. These rumors assumed such importance that the government wrote a letter to Napoleon contradicting them ; and General Hoche, with the magnanimity of a man incapable of jealousy, over his own name published a letter expressing his admiration of the commander of the Army of Italy. " Men," he wrote, " who, concealed or unknown during the first years of the foundation of the Republic, now think only of seeking the means of de- stroying it, and speak of it merely to slander its firmest supporters, have, for some days past, been spreading reports most injurious to the armies, and to one of the general ofl&cers who commanded them. Can they, then, no longer attain their object by corresponding openly with the horde of conspirators resident at Hamburg? Must they, in order to gain the patronage of the masters whom they are desirous of giving to France, vilify the leaders of the armies ? Why is Bonaparte, then, the object of the wrath of these gentry ? Is it because he beat themselves and their friends in Yend^miaire ?f Is it because he is dissolving the armies of kings, and furnishing the Republic with the means of bringing this honorable war to a glorious conclusion ? Ah ! brave young man, where is the Republican soldier whose heart does not burn with the desire to imitate thee ? Courage, Bonaparte ! lead our vic- torious armies to Naples, to Vienna ; reply to thy personal enemies by hum- bling kings, by shedding fresh lustre over our armies, and leave to us the task of upholding thy glory." Still the Royalists were busy with incessant plots and intrigues for the overthrow of the government. The treasury was utterly bankrupt, paper money, almost utterly worthless, flooded the land, and the finances were in a * M. Basseville, an envoy of the French Republic at Rome, was attacked by a mob and cruelly murdered. t Quelling the insurgent sections. 1796.] THE DIRECTORY. 417 state of inextricable embarrassment. The Jacobins and the Eoyalists were equally eager to demolish the Directory by any conceivable measures of treason and violence. Never was a nation in a more deplorable state, har- assed by a foreign war which demanded all its energies, and torn by domes- tic dissensions which no human wisdom seemed capable of healing. The Jacobins adopted even the desperate measure to feign a Eoyalist in- surrection ; to scatter white cockades, the emblem of Bourbon power ; to shout Vive le Boil and to discharge musketry and throw petards into the streets, that the people, alarmed by the peril of Bourbon restoration, might throw themselves into the arms of the Jacobins for protection.* A mob of nearly a thousand most determined men marched, in the night of the lOlh of September, upon the camp at Grenelle, hoping to fraternize with the sol- diers in this treasonable endeavor to overthrow the government. Several hundreds fell dead or wounded in this frantic attempt. NluUl' ot bhl'TKMJiKU lU, ITUli. The Directory now attempted to enter into peaceful relations with other powers, and effected a treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive, with Spam. Envoys were also sent to the Ottoman Porte and to Venice for the same pur- pose. Piedmont had sued for peace and obtained it. The Italians of Upper Italy, exulting in their emancipation from the Austrians, under the protec- tion of Napoleon established the Cispadane Ecpublic. Without the support of his strong arm they could not for a day resist the encroachments of the surrounding despotisms. The first National Assembly of this infant repub- lic met at Modena, October 16, 1796. The people were electrified with de- light at this unexpected achievement of freedom. The Assembly sent an address to Napoleon, informing him of the principles of their new govern- ment. " Never forget," said Napoleon, in his reply, " that laws are mere nullities without the force necessary to support them. Attend to your military or- ganization, which you have the means of placing on a respectable footing. * Thiers's French Revolution, vol. iv., p. 10. Dd 418 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXTX You will tlien be more fortunate than the people of France, for you will ar- rive at liberty without passing through the ordeal of revolution." The Directory had for some time been attempting to effect peace with En- gland. On the 18th of December the British government stated on what terms it would consent to sheathe the sword. M. Thiers expresses the feel- ings of France in reference to this offer in the following terms : " Thus France, having been iniquitously forced into war, after she had ex- pended enormous sums, and from which she had come off victorious — France was not to gain a single province, while the northern powers had just di- vided a kingdom between them (Poland), and England had recently made immense acquisitions in India. France, who still occupied the line of the Ehine, and who was mistress of Italy, was to evacuate the Rhine and Italy at the bare summons of England ! Such conditions were absurd and inad- missible. The very proposal of them was an insult, and they could not be listened to,"* To conquer a peace, the Directory now meditated a direct attack upon En- gland. The Catholic Irish, over three millions in number, hating implaca- bly their English conquerors, were ardent to rise, under the guarantee of France, and establish a republican government. They had sent secret agents to Paris to confer with the Directory. Wolfe Tone, one of the leaders of the Irish revolutionists, addressed memorials to the French Directory solicit- ing aid. " The Catholics of Ireland," said he, " are 8,150,000, all trained from their infancy in an hereditary hatred and abhorrence of the English name. For these five years they have fixed their eyes most earnestly oti France, whom they look upon, with great justice, as fighting their battles, as well as that of all mankind who are oppressed. Of this class I will stake my head there are 500,000 who would fly to the standard of the Republic if they saw it once displayed in the cause of liberty and their country. " The Republic may also rely with confidence on the support of the Dis- senters, actuated by reason and reflection, as well as the Catholics impelled by misery and inflamed by detestation of the English name. In the year 1791 the Dissenters of Belfast first formed the Club of United Irishmen, so called because in that club, for the first time. Dissenters and Catholics were seen together in harmony and union. Corresponding clubs were rapidly formed, the object of which was to subvert the tyranny of England, establish the independence of Ireland, and frame a free republic on the broad basis of liberty and equality. " The Catholics also have an organization, commencing about the same time with the clubs last mentioned, but composed of Catholics only. In June last it embraced the whole peasantry of the provinces of Ulster, Leinster, and Connaught, three fourths of the nation, and I have little doubt that it has since extended into Munster, the remaining province. The eyes of this whole body, which may be said, almost without a figure, to be the people of Ireland, are turned with the most anxious expectation to France for assist- ance and support. The oath of their union recites that they will be faithful to the united nations of France and Ireland."f * Thiers's French Revolution, vol. iv., p. GG. t Wolfe Tone's First Memorial to the French Directory, vol. ii., p. 187. 1796.] THE DIRECTORY. 419 An expedition to Ireland was secretly resolved upon. A fleet of fifteen sail of the line, twenty frigates, six luggers, and fifty transports, containing sixteen thousand troops, sailed on the 16th of December to land in Bantry Bay, on the coast of Ireland. But the very night after the squadron left port a heavy storm arose, in which one ship foundered and the fleet was widely dispersed. A singular series of casualties ensued. Some of the ships entered the bay, but not finding their companions, after waiting a short time, returned to France. Other ships of the expedition soon after en- tered, but, finding the bay deserted, they also returned. The expedition thus proved a total failure.* The inefiicient Directory was quite unable to rectif)^ the disorders into which the internal affairs of the state were plunged. They uttered loud complaints, which did but increase discontent and disgust. The press, being entirely free, indulged in the utmost violence ; Eoyalists and Jacobins assail- ing the feeble government without mercy and thwarting its operations in every possible way. The army of Italy was triumphant — almost miracu- lously so. Every where else the Republic was in disgrace. The Directory endeavored to throw the blame of the public calamities upon the two Coun- cils, and published the following message, which was as true as it was ill- advised : " All departments are distressed. The pay of the troops is in arrear ; the defenders of the country, in rags and enervated by want, in disgust are led to desertion. The hospitals are destitute of furniture, fire, and drugs. The charitable institutions, utterly impoverished, repel the poor and infirm. The creditors of the state, the contractors who supply the armies, with dif- ficulty obtain but a small portion of the sums that are their due. Distress keeps aloof men who could perform the same services better and cheaper. The roads are cut up ; the communications interrupted. The public func- tionaries are without salary; from one end of the Republic to the other judges and administrators may be seen reduced to the horrible alternative either of dragging on, with their families, a miserable existence, or of being dishonored by selling themselves to intrigue. The evil-disposed are every where busy. In many places murder is being organized, and the police, without activity, wdthout energy, because it is without pecuniary means, can not put a stop to these disorders." All eyes were directed to the achievements of Napoleon, who, with super- human energy, was destroj'ing army after army of the Allies, astounding Europe by his exploits, and exciting the admiration of his countrymen. Thiers thus describes the position he then occupied in the public mind : " Sickness, together with the excessive fatigues of the campaign, had weak- ened him extremely. He could scarcely sit on horseback ; his cheeks were * " It is a onrious subject for speculation what might have been the result had Hoche suc- ceeded in landin}; with sixteen thousand of his best troops on the Irish shores. To those who consider, indeed, the patriotic sjiirit. indomitable valor, and persevering character of the Enj^lish people, and the comjilete command they had of the sea, the final issue of such a contest can not appear doubtful ; but it is equally evident that the addition of such a force and so able a com- mander to the numerous bodies of Irish malcontents would have engendered a dreadful domes- tic war, and that the whole energies of the emjiire might for a very long jieriod have been em- ployed in saving itself from dismemberment." — A/ison''s History of Europe, vol. i., p. 444. 420 THE FRENCH EEVOLUTION. [ChAP. XXXIX. hollow and livid. His whole appearance was deplorable. His eyes alone, still bright and piercing as ever, indicated that the fire of his soul was not extinguished. His physical proportions formed a singular contrast with his genius and his renown, a contrast amusing to soldiers at once jovial and en- thusiastic. Notwithstanding the decline of his strength, his extraordinary energy supported him and imparted an activity which was apphed to all objects at once. " He had begun what he called the war against robbers. Intriguers of all kinds had thronged to Italy for the purpose of introducing themselves into the administration of the armies and profiting by the wealth of that fine country. While simplicity and indigence pervaded the armies of the Rhine, luxury pervaded that of Italy — luxury as great as its glory. The soldiers, well clothed and well fed, were every where cordially received, and lived in pleasure and abundance. The ofiicers, the generals, participated in the general opulence, and laid the foundations of their fortunes. " Bonaparte, who had within him all the passions, but who, at that mo- ment, was engrossed by one passion, that of glory, lived in a simple and aus- tere manner, seeking relaxation only in the society of his wife, to whom he was tenderly attached, and who had come, at his desire, to his head-quarters. Indignant at tne disorders of the administration, he strictly scrutinized the minutest details, verified by personal inspection the accounts of the compa- nies, denounced the dishonest administrators without mercy, and caused them to be prosecuted." Among the Directors, Carnot was one of the noblest of men. The purity of his character slander has never attempted to taint. Barras was a fearless soldier and a shameless debauchee. He boasted of the profligacies in which he openly indulged, and he rioted in boundless extravagance, which he sup- ported through corruption and bribes. Rewbel was a lawyer, a man of ability and integrity,* These three men had belonged to different political parties during the Revolution, and each detested the others. Lareveill^re was an honest man, but destitute of those commanding qualities so essential to the post he occupied. Le Tourneur was a vain, good-natured man who merely echoed the voice of Carnot. All the Directors but Barras occupied, with their families, apartments in the Palace of the Luxembourg. In the public mind this discordant Directory consisted of two parties, Barras, Rew- bel, and Lareveill^re in the majority, and Carnot and Le Tourneur in the opposition. * "Carnot, Barras, Rewbel, and Lareveillere had been members of the Convention; and, although none of them had been famous durinp the Reign of Terror for any atrocious act, still the three first had voted the death of the king — a vote which, notwithstanding the fatal though powerful considerations that may be presented in alleviation, placed them among the most furi- ous Jacobins, and was prejudicial to the respect with which they ought to have been invested." — Memoirs of Lavaktte. 1797.] THE OVERTHROW OF THE DIRECTORY, ETC. 421 CHAPTER XL. THE OVERTHROW OF THE DIRECTORY AND THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE CONSULATE. Proclamation of Napoleon. — March into Austria. — Letter to the Archduke Charles. — Prelimin- aries of Peace. — Union of Parties ajjainst tlie Directory. — Triumph of the Directory. — A^eiuy of Napoleon. — Severe Measures of the Directory. — Indignation of Najioleon. — Dictatorsiiip of the Directory. — Dismay of the Royalists. — Treaty of Campo Formio. — Napoleon's Address to the Cispadane Repuhlic. — Remarks of Napoleon. — Plan for the Invasion of India. — E.xpedi- tion to Egypt. — New Coalition. — Rastadt. It was now the month of March, 1797, and Napoleon, having driven the Austrians out of Italy, is.sued the following proclamation, an unexaggerated statement of facts which amazed and appalled hostile Europe : " Soldiers ! the capture of Mantua has put an end to the war of Italy. You have been victorious in fourteen pitched battles and seventy actions. You have taken 100,000 prisoners, 500 field-pieces, 2000 heavy cannon, and four pontoon trains. The contributions laid on the countries you have con- quered have fed, maintained, and paid the army ; besides which, you have sent thirty millions ($6,000,000) to the Minister of Finance for the use of the public treasury. You have enriched the Museum of Paris with three hundred master-pieces of ancient and modern Italy, which it had required thirty centuries to produce. You have conquered for the Republic the fin- est countries in Europe. The kings of Sardinia and Naples, the Pope, and the Duke of Parma are separated from the coalition. You have expelled the English from Leghorn, Genoa, and Corsica. Still higher destinies await you. You will prove yourselves worthy of them. Of all the foes who combined to stifle our Republic in its birth the emperor alone remains." On the 16th of March the little army of Bonaparte crossed the Taglia- mento to march upon Vienna, there to compel Austria to cease the iniqui- tous war which now for six years had desolated Europe. Battle after battle ensued, and the Austrians met the French only to be vanquished. On the 31st of March Napoleon wrote to the Archduke Charles, who was brother of the emperor and commander-in-chief of the Austrian forces, as follows : " General-in-Chief: brave soldiers make war and desire j)eace. Has not this war lasted six years? Have we not slain men enough and inflicted ca- lamities enough on suffering humanity ? It cries out on all sides. Europe, which had taken up arms against the French Republic, has laid them down. Your nation alone is left, and yet blood is about to be spilled more abund- antly than ever. "The Executive Directory of the French Republic communicated to his majesty the emperor its desire to put an end to the war which afllicts both nations. The intervention of the Court of London has opjwsed this wish. Is there, then, no hope of arrangement? And must we continue to slaugh- ter one another for the interests and the passions of a nation which knows nothing of the calamities of war ? You, general, who are by birth so near 422 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XL. to the throne, and above all the petty passions which so frequently actuate ministers and governments, are you determined to merit the title of bene- factor of the whole human race and the real savior of Grermany ? " Imagine not, general, that I mean by this that it is not possible to save her by the force of arms. But, even supposing that the chances of war turn in your favor, Germany will not, on that account, be the less ravaged. As for me, general, if the overture which I have the honor to make to you can save the life of a single man, I shall be prouder of the civic crown which I shall feel that I have deserved than of the melancholy glory which can result from military successes."* The archduke rephed that he was commanded to prosecute the war, and had no authority to enter into conference upon terms of peace.f The war was now prosecuted with renewed vigor, as the French drove the Austrians through the defiles of the Tyrol, and entered the plains of Germany. But a few days passed ere Napoleon arrived within sight of the steeples of Vi- enna. The capital was in consternation ; the people demanded peace ; the archduke urged it, declaring himself quite unable to protect the city. The Austrian court now implored the clemency of the conqueror, and sent com- missioners to Napoleon, at his head-quarters at Leoben, with full powers to settle the basis of peace. The preliminaries were signed at Leoben on the 18th of April, which put a stop to the effusion of blood. By the election in May of one third of the two legislative bodies, the counter-revolutionists had obtained a majority in both chambers. This ex- ceedingly elated the Eoyalists. The two Councils now commenced a furious war against the Republican Directory, seeking to overthrow it, and to re- establish, not the old Bourbon despotism, but the constitutional monarchy of 1791. There were now four parties in the field. The old Bourbon party, the friends of constitutional monarchy, the Eepublicans, and the Jac- obins. Three of these parties united against the Directory, each hoping, in the overthrow of the Directors, to establish its own principles. One of the Directors was to leave. The Royalists succeeded in placing Barthelemy, a counter-revolutionist, in his place. The conflict which now arose was whether the Republican Directory should be abolished or maintained. A stern conflict was evidently rising. The Directory headed one party, the two Councils the other. In accordance with the disastrous temper of the times, both parties began to count bayonets instead of votes, that the ques- tion might be settled on a field of blood. The emigrants and the priests returned in great numbers, forged passports being transmitted to them from Paris. The Councils had a legislative guard of fifteen hundred men, and hoped * Memoires de Napoleon, diet, an Montholon et Gourgaud, vol. iv., p. 96, 97. t " Unquestionably, sir," replied the duke, "I desire as much as you the attainment of peace for the happiness of the people and of humanity. Considering, however, that in the situation which I hold, it is no part of my business to inquire into and determine the quarrel of the bellig- erent powers, and that I am not furnished, on the part of the emperor, with any ])letiipotcntiary powers for treating, you will excuse me, general, if I do not enter into negotiation with you touching a matter of the highest importance, but which does not lie within my department. Whatever shall happen, either respecting the future chances of war or the prospects ofooace, I request you to be equally convinced of my distinguished esteem." 1797.] THE OVERTHROW OF THE DIRECTORY, ETC. 423 to avail itself of the National Guard, not then fully reorganized. They also placed great reliance on Pichegru, who was treasonably plotting the restora^ tion of the Bourbons. The Constitution did not allow any of the standing army to approach within thirty-six miles of Paris. In defiance of this pro^ vision, the Director^-, under pretense of sending a fresh expedition to Ire^ land, assembled twelve thousand veteran troops under the walls of the metropolis. General Bonaparte, aware of the peril of the Directory, and of the danger of the restoration of royalty, had sent the intrepid Augereau to Paris to assist the Directory in any emergency. The Director}^ was the established government of the nation, and, imbecile as it was, its overthrow by violence at that time could only lead to anarchy and blood.* At midnight on the 17th Fructidor (September 8d), twelve thousand men, with forty pieces of cannon, were silently marched into the city, and surrounded the Tuileries. A body of the Legislative Guard was stationed at the Pont Tournant, the entrance-passage to the garden. Augereau ap- proached them at the head of a numerous staff. " Are you Republicans?" said he. The soldiers immediately lowered their arms, and shouted " Vive Augereau/ Vive le Directoirer They fraternized at once with the troops of the Directory. The victory was gained; no blood was shed. At six AUOEBEAU AT THE PONT TOUENANT. * "The Directory bocame alarmed for their own existence. It had already been ascertained that 190 of the deputies had been enpajjed to restore the exiled royal family, while the Direct- ory could only reckon on the support of 130; and the Ancients had resolved, by a large major- ity, to transfer the seat of the Legislature to Rouen, on account of its proximity to the western provinces, whose Royalist principles had always been so decided. The next election, it was ex- pected, would nearly extinguish the Revolutionary party; and the Directory were aware that the transition was easy, for regicides, as the greater part of them were, from the Luxembourg to the scaffold." — Alison, vol. i., p. 491. 424 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XL. o'clock in the morning, when the citizens awoke, they were surprised to find that a revolution had taken place during the night. The three victorious directors condemned to banishment their two col- leagues, Carnot and Barthdlemy, forty-two members of the Council of Five Hundred, eleven of the Council of Ancients, several Royalist agents, and forty-two editors, publishers, and proprietors of counter-revolutionary jour- nals. It is but a wretched extenuation for, these deeds of violence, to assert that, had the Councils gained the victory, they would have treated the Di- rectory in the same way. The Directory thus assumed the dictatorship over unhappy, distracted France; but even that was better than anarchy, and almost any thing was better than a return to the old Bourbon despot- ism.* This signal defeat crushed the hopes of the Eoyalists. The minority of the Councils, who were in the interests of the Directory, were reassembled in the Odeon and the School of Medicine, and with this organization the government attempted to carry on the distracted affairs of the nation.f On the 12th of August Augereau had written to Greneral Bonaparte, " Nothing is more certain than that, if the public mind is not essentially changed before the approaching elections, every thing is lost, and a civil war remains as our last resource." On the 23d of September Napoleon wrote to Augereau, " The whole army applauds the wisdom and energy which you have displayed in this crisis, and has rejoiced sincerely at the success of the patriots. It is only to be hoped, now, that moderation and wisdom will guide your steps. That is the most ardent wish of my heart.":}: But Napoleon was indignant when he heard of the excessive severity adopted by the Directory. "It might have been right," he wrote, "to de- prive Carnot, Barth^lemy, and the fifty deputies of their appointments, and put them under surveillance in some cities in the interior. Pichegru, Wil- lot, Imbert, Colonne, and one or two others might justly have expiated their treason on the scaflfold.§ But to see men of great talent, such as Portalis, Ducoudray, Fontanes ; tried patriots, such as Boissy d'Anglas, Dumolard, Murinais ; supreme magistrates, such as Carnot and Barthelemy, condemned without either trial or accusation, is frightful. What ! to punish with trans- portation a number of writers of pamphlets, who deserved only contempt and a trifling correction, was to renew the proscriptions of the Roman trium- virs. It was to act more cruelly than Fouquier Tinville ; since he, at least, put the accused on their trial, and condemned them only to death. All the armies, all the people were for a Republic. State necessity could not be al- * " We may say that, on the 18th Fructidor of the year V., it was necessary that the Directo- ry should triumph over the counter-revolution, by dcoimatinf;; tlie Councils ; or that the Councils should triuni])h over the Republic, by overthrowing the Directory. The question thus stated, it remains to inquire, first, if the Directory could have conquered by any other moans than a coup (Titat, and, secondly, whether it misused its victory." — Mignet, p. 3.S8. t "Though France suffered extremely from the usurpation which overthrew its electoral gov- ernment, and substituted the empire of force for the chimeras of democracy, there seems no reason to believe that a more just or equitable government could, at that period, have been sub- stituted in its room." — Alison, vol. i., p. 496. X Bourrienne, vol. i., p. 2r)0. § These men were in constant correspondence with the Bourbons, and were conspiring for their restoration. 1797.] THE OVERTHROW OF THE DIRECTORY, ETC. 425 leged in favor of so revolting an injustice, so flagrant a violation of the laws and the rights of the citizens."* The Royalists were dismayed by this sudden disaster. The priests and emigrants, who had returned in great numbers, fled again to the frontiers. Those who were advancing toward France retreated back to Switzerland and Germany. M. Merlin and M. Frangois— the one a lawyer, the other a man of letters, and both upright Republicans— were chosen in the place of Carnot and Barthelemy. The guilt of Pichegru was fully established. Mo- reau, in crossing the Rhine, had taken the papers of General Klinglin, in which he had found the whole treasonable correspondence of Pichegru with the Prince of Conde. The Directors now pushed the measures of government with Revolution- ary energy. The British government, finding themselves deprived of every ally, sent Lord Malmesbury to Paris to negotiate for peace. The British ministry were willing to give up the colonies which they had wrested from France, but would not give up the colonies they had wrested from the allies of France, Spain and Holland. It is difficult to see how the Directory, with any sense of honor whatever, could, under such circumstances, have aban- doned its allies. Upon this point there was a rupture, and war with En- gland continued to rage.f On the 28th of October the treaty of Campo Formio was signed, which secured peace with the Emperor of Germany. The Directors had sent to Napoleon an ultimatum which would have prevented the possibility of peace. Napoleon boldly rejected their demands, and made peace on his own terms. The nation hailed the peace with such joy, and Napoleon was now so boundlessly popular, that the Directors did not dare to refuse their ratifica- tion. Napoleon was now prepared to return to France. He had established the Cisalpine Republic, and compelled its recognition by the only powers which could endanger its existence. Before leaving Italy he thus addressed this state in the infancy of its freedom : "You are the first people in history who have become free without fac- tions, without revolutions, without convulsions. We have given you free- dom ; take care to preserve it. To be worthy of your destiny, make only discreet and moderate laws ; cause them to be executed with energy ; favor the diffusion of knowledge, and respect religion. Compose your army, not of disreputable men, but of citizens imbued with the principles of the Re- public and closely linked to its prosperity. You have, in general, need to impress yourselves with the feeling of your strength, and with the dignity which befits the freeman. Divided, and bowed down for ages by tyranny, * Mcmoircs dc Napolpon, diet, an Montholon ot Gotirpaud, vol. iv., p. 233. "The 18th Fructidor is the true era of the commencement of military despotism in France. The subsequent government of the country was but a succession of illegal usurpations on the part of the depositaries of jiower, in which the peojjle had no share, and by which their rights were equally invaded, until tranquillity was restored by the vigorous hand of Napoleon." — Alison, vol. i., p. 496. + Mignet says, "The offers of Pitt not being sincere, the Directory did not allow itself to be deceived by dijilomatic stratagems. The negotiations were twice broken off, and war continued between the two powers. While England negotiated at Lille, she was preparing at St Peters- burg the triple alliance or second coalition." — Migvet, |). 341. Vol. II.— K 426 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XL. you would not, unaided, have conquered your liberty. In a few years, if left to yourselves, no power on earth will be strong enough to wrest it from you. Till then France will protect you against the attacks of your neigh- bors ; its political system will be united with yours."* The blessings of the Italians were showered upon Napoleon as he depart- ed. As he entered France he was every where greeted with love, admira- tion, and enthusiasm. His progress through the departments was a tri- umphal march. In Paris he was received with salvos of artillery, ringing of bells, illuminations, and the huzzas of the multitude. In the laconic ad- dress of Napoleon to the authorities of government in their grand reception, he uttered sentiments in perfect accordance with his whole precedent and subsequent career. " The French people," said he, " in order to be free had kings to combat. To obtain a Constitution founded on reason it had the prejudices of eighteen centuries to overcome. The Constitution of the year III. and you have tri- umphed over all obstacles. Eeligion, feudality, royalty, have successively, for twenty centuries past, governed Europe. But from the peace which you have just concluded dates the era of representative governments. You have succeeded in organizing the great nation whose vast territory is circum- scribed only because Nature herself has hxed its limits. You have done more. The two finest countries in Europe, formerly so renowned for the arts, the sciences, and the great men whose cradle they were, see with the greatest hopes genius and freedom issuing from the tomb of their ancestors. These are two pedestals on which destiny is about to place two powerful na- tions. I have the honor to deliver to you the treaty signed at Campo For- mio, and ratified by his majesty the emperor. Peace secures the liberty, the prosperity, and the glory of the Republic. When the happiness of the French people shall be seated on better organic laws, all Europe will become free." Napoleon, having returned to Paris, sought seclusion, laid aside his mili- tary dress, and devoted himself with great assiduity to studies of natural and political science. He was chosen a member of the Institute, and took his seat between the distinguished philosophers Lagrange and Laplace. He wrote the following note in acceptance of his election : — " The suffrage of the distinguished men who compose the Institute honors me. I feel sensibly that before I can become their equal I must long be their pupil. The only true conquests, those which awaken no regret, are those we obtain over ignorance. The most honorable, as the most useful pursuit of nations, is that which contributes to the extension of the human * Mem. de Napoleon, diet, au Month, et Gourpaud, vol. iv., p. 271. The English Tory historians, such as Scott and Alison, denounce France vehemently for re- fusing to abandon her allies, Spain and Holland, for the sake of ])eace with England. At the same time they load Napoleon with epithets of infamy for refusing to continue a bloody war with Austria for the sake of protecting an aristocratic and jjcrfidious enemy, Venice, from the rajjacity of Austria, an ally with Venice in the unjust war upon France. The remarks of Alison upon tliis subject arc a melancholy exhibitioTi of the power of prejudice to prevent the sense of justice. "Austria," writes T.W. Redhead, "nefariously ai)proj)riated the possessions of a faithful and at- tached ally, while France did but consent to the despoilment of a hostile government, ready to as- sail her ujjon the least reverse." — The French Revolutions, vol. ii., p. 100. 1798.] THE OVERTHROW OF THE DIRECTORY, ETC. 427 intellect. The real greatness of the French Republic ought henceforth to consist in not permitting the existence of one new idea which has not been added to the national stock." When subsequently speaking of this period of his life he remarked, " Man- kind are, in the end, always governed by superiority of intellectual quali- ties, and none are more sensible of this than the military i)rofession. When, on my return to Paris from Italy, I assumed the dress of the Institute and associated with men of science, I knew what I was doing. I was sure of not being misunderstood by the lowest drummer of the army." lie was frequently consulted by the Directory on important questions. He had no confidence in the government of the Directory, and only lent it his support so far as to prevent the restoration of royalty. The Directory wished him to take command of a new army, to try to conquer, on the shores of England, a peace with that government which now alone continued the war. With that object in view he visited the coast and carefully scrutinized the resources at command for the invasion of England. He, however, pro- nounced the project too hazardous, and convinced the Directory that the only vulnerable point which England presented was in India. In accord- ance with this suggestion a secret expedition was fitted out to invade India by the way of Egypt. On the 19th of Ma}^, 1798, the Egyptian expedition sailed from Toulon. To settle innumerable minor affairs in reference to the Germanic States, a Congress of Embassadors, from Austria, France, and Germany had now for some months been in session at Rastadt. The British government in the mean time vigorously commenced endeavors to ally the monarchies of Eu- rope in a new war against France. It appealed to the fears of all the sover- eigns by showing them that the toleration of any republican institutions in Europe endangered all their thrones. " England," says Thiers, " with a view to foment this fear had filled all the courts with her emissaries. She urged the new king of Prussia to relin- quish his neutrality, and to preserve Germany from the inundation. She endeavored to work upon the wrong-headed and violent emperor Paul. She strove to alarm Austria, and offered her subsidies if she would renew the war. She excited the silly passions of the Queen of Naples."* All over Europe war began again to menace France. While the com- missioners were negotiating at Rastadt, the armies of the new coalition com- menced their march. There was no alternative before them. Principles of liberty were spreading rapidly through Europe ; and the despotic monarchs could only maintain their thrones by quenching that spirit in blood. They were compelled either to fight or to surrender. " The monarchs did right to defend their thrones," say the Royalists. "The people did right to de- fend their liberties," say the Republicans. So long as there are in the world advocates of aristocratic assumption and advocates of popular rights so long will these points be controverted. The Queen of Naples commenced hostili- ties, without any declaration of war, by sending an army of fifty thousand men to drive the French out of Italy, in November, 1798. The French ar- mies now crossed the Rhine and entered Germany. The Russian and the * Thiers, vol. iv., p. 334. 428 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. [ChAP. XL. Austrian armies were immediately on tlie move. The French embassadors at Rastadt received orders to leave in twenty-four hours. At nine o'clock in the evening of the 28th of April the three ministers, Debry, Bonnier, and Roberjeot, set out with their families. They occupied three carriages. They had hardly left the town, when, in the darkness, a troop of Austrian hussars rushed upon them, and, dragging the helpless embassadors from their coaches cut them down in the presence of their wives and children. The ruffians plundered the" carriages and carried off all the papers. Debry, though left senseless and supposed to be dead, revived, and, covered with wounds and blood, crawled back to Rastadt. This execrable violation of the law of nations, so unheard of among civilized people, excited the detest- ation of Europe. War, ferocious and implacable, was agani renewed in all its horrors.* ASSASSINATION or THE EM liASSADORS AT EAaTADT. Every thing was now in confusion, and universal discontent rose up around the Directory. France was distracted by hostile parties, while triumphant armies were crowding her frontiers. All social ties were dissolved. Un- principled rapacity characterized the measures of government. Religion * "Our plenipotentiaries were massacred at Rastadt, and notwithstandinR the indignation ex- pressed by all France at that atrocity, vengeance was still very tardy in overtaking the assassins. The two Councils were the first to render a melancholy tribute of honor to the victims. Who that saw that ceremony ever forgot its solemnity? Who can recollect without emotion the re- ligious silence which reigned throughout the hall and galleries when the vote was j.ut? The president then turned toward the curule chairs of the victims, on which lay the official costume of the assassinated representatives, covered with black crape, bent over them, pronounced the names of Roberjeot and Bonnier, and added, in a voice the tone of which was always thrilling, AssAssiNATF.n AT TiiK CoNORKSs OF Rastadt. Immediately nil the representatives responded, 'May their blood be upon the heads of their murderers: "—Duchess o/Abrantes, p. 206. 1799.] THE OVERTHROW OF THE DIRECTORY, ETC. 429 was abolished and the administration of justice seemed a farce. The kiws were disregarded ; violence reigned unchecked ; intriguing tactions succeed- ed each other, while Jacobins, Royalists, and Kepubiicans were struggling for the supremacy. The people, di.sgusted with this state of anarchy, were longing for a deliverer who would rescue the government from disgrace and at the same time save France from falling back under the despotism of the Bourbons. Napoleon, in Egypt, informed of this state of affairs, decided immediately to return to France. He landed at Frejus on the 9th of October, 1799, and traversed Franco, from the ^[cditerranean to Paris, through a constant scene of rejoicing. Such universal enthusiasm awaited him, that without the shedding of a drop of blood he overthrew the imbecile government of the Directory and established the Consulate. The nation received this change with almost universal ap])lause. For the narrative of these events and the subsequent career of the Revolution the reader must be referred to the His- tory of Napoleon Bonaparte. APPENDIX BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF LEADING CHARACTERS IN THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. AUGEREAU, Piekee Francois Charles, the son of a poor fruiterer in one of the faubourgs in Paris, was born at Paris, November 11, 1757. At an early age he entered the l^eapolitan service, but in 1787 was still only a private soldier. Seeing little prospect of advancement, he quitted the army in disgust and settled at Naples, where he taught fencing. In 1792, however, he returned to France, and became a volunteer in the re- j^ublican army of the South. Owing to his daring intrepidity, his pro- motion was rapid beyond all precedent. In 1794 he was brigadier-gen- eral, and two years later general of division. In the year 1796 he joined the army of Italy, and fought at Lodi and Castiglione, from which place he afterwards derived his ducal title. In this campaign, Augereau, who was as avaricious as he was cruel, amassed immense wealth. In 1799 he warmly espoused Bonaparte's cause, and on the establishment of the empire was created marshal, and Duke of Castiglione. In 1806 he distinguished himself greatly at the battle of Jena, and, after the Russian expedition, still more so in the campaigns in Germany. He was one of the first to give in his adhesion to Louis XVIIL, for which he was presented with the cross of St, Louis, and created a peer of France. On Napoleon's return from Elba, however, he again offered his services to the Emperor, who repulsed him as a traitor, and, being neglected also by the Rourbons shortly after, he retired to his country- seat, where he died in 1816. — Court and Camp of Bonaparte. Augereau was a man wholly destitute of religious feeling. When Na- poleon re-established religious worship in France, he insisted on all his ministers and generals attending a solemn Te Deum, which was chanted at the cathedral of Notre Dame. Lannes and Augereau wanted to alight from the carriage, and it required an order from the First Consul to prevent their doing so. They went, therefore, to Notre Dame, where Augereau kept swearing, in no low whisper, during the whole of the chanted mass. The next day Ronaparte asked him what he thought of the ceremony. " Oh, it was all very fine," replied the general ; " there was nothing wanting but the million of men who have perished in the pulling down of what you are now setting up." — Bourrienne. 434 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCHES. BABCETJF, Feancois Noel, born at St. Quentin in 1764, was the son of a collector of the salt-tax, and, in 1777, entered into the service of a gentleman, who gave him some sort of education, and made him his confidential man of business. He soon afterwards married a chamber- maid, made himself conspicuous by his revolutionary doctrines, and, in 1792, was appointed elector of the department of Somme. On the overthrow of Robespierre, he turned journalist, styled himself Gracchus, and wrote with severity against the Jacobins, to whom he gave the title of Terrorists. lie afterwards attacked Tallien and the Ther- midorians, and, on the establishment of the Directory, published his Tribune of the People, in which he displayed the most extravagant de- mocracy. Being brought before the minister of police, BabcEuf confessed himself the author of a plan of insurrection, and showed great firmness, refusing to name his accojnplices. He was condemned to death. May 25, 1797, and, on learning his sentence, stabbed himself, but his body was nevertheless dragged to the scaffold and beheaded. — Biographie Moderne. " Gracchus " Baboeuf, who called himself the " Tribune of the People," was a bold man, of an excited imagination, and fantastically attached to an extraordinary kind of democracy. This man, who possessed great power over his party, prepared it by his journal for the reign of what he called general happiness. — Mignet. BAILLY, Jean Sylvain, was one of the forty of the French Academy, and deputy of Paris to the States-General. Born in Paris on September 15, 1736, nature had endowed him with all the talents which fit men for the study of the sciences, and the meditations of philosophy. After several essays, which were well received by the public, he published a history of astronomy. When the Revolution broke out in 1789, the electors of Paris chose him as secretary, and then as deputy of the tiers-Hat to the States-General. He was president of this assembly in its first session. On July 16th he was appointed Mayor of Paris. When, after the flight of the King, the parties were divided, and the more violent revolutionists wished to seize the op- portunity of pronouncing the forfeiture of Louis, Bailly opposed the ferments excited in Paris in favor of the party of the forfeiture. An immense crowd having thronged to the Champ de Mars to frame an address recommending the forfeiture, on July 17, 1791, Bailly caused martial law to be proclaimed against this assembly, which was dispersed by armed force. The National Assembly approved this step, but from this time Bailly perceived that his credit was sinking. He vacated the office of mayor early in November, and then went over to England, whence he returned shortly after to Paris, trusting to spend the rest of his days in retirement. He was, however, arrested in 1793, and brought to trial in November before the revolutionary tribunal, which condemned him to death. On the day after the passing of his sentence, he was put into the fatal cart, and, while proceeding to execution, was loaded with the insults of the people. It was resolved BIOGKAPllICAL SKETCHES'. 437i that he should die on the Champ de Mars, in the very place where he had caused the seditious people to be fired on. Here he fell down in a fainting-fit. When he recovered, he demanded, haughtily, that an end might be put to his miseries. " Dost thou tremble, Bailly ?" said one of his executioners, seeing his limbs, weakened by age, quiver. " Friend," answered he, calmly, " if I do tremble, it is with cold." After having been subjected to every species of ignominy, he ran him- self to the scaffold, which had been fixed upon a heap of dung. He died with great courage. Bailly was tall, his face long and serious, and his character by no means devoid of sensibility. — Biographic Moderne. Among the virtuous members of the first Assembly, there was no one who stood higher than Bailly. As a scholar and a man of science, he had long been in the very first rank of celebrity ; his private morals were not only irreproachable, but exemplary ; and his character and disposi- tion had always been remarkable for gentleness, moderation, and philan- thropy. His popularity was at one time equal to that of any of the idols of the day; and if it was gained by some degree of culpable in- dulgence and unjustifiable zeal, it was forfeited at least by a resolute opposition to disorder and a meritorious perseverance in the discharge of his duty. There is not, perhaps, a name in the whole annals of the Revolution with which the praise of unaffected philanthropy may be more safely associated. — Edinburgh Bcvieiv. BARBAROUX, Charles, deputy to the Convention, was born at Marseilles, March 6, 1767. He eml)raced the cause of the Revolution with uncommon ardor, and came to Paris in .luly, 1792, with a few hundred Marseillais, to bring about a revolution against the court. He had a considerable share in the insurrection of August 10th. He be- longed to the party of the Girondins, and was guillotined in Bordeaux in 1704. — Biograpliie Moderne. Barbaroux's ingenuous disposition and ardent patriotism inspired us with confidence. Discoursing on the bad situation of affairs, and of our apprehensions of despotism in the North under Robespierre, we fonned the conditional plan of a republic in the South. Barbaroux was one whose features no painter would disdain to copy for the head of an Antinous. — Madame Boland's Memoirs. BARERE DE VIEUZAC, Bertrand, born at Tarbes, September 10, 1755; deputy to States-General in 1780; President of the National Assembly, 1702 ; President of the Jacobins, July 14, 1702 ; arrested March 23, 1705. He died January 15, 1841. T used to meet Barcre at a table d'hote. I considered him of a mild and amiable temper. He was very well bred, and seemed to love the Revolution from a sentiment of benevolence. His association with Robespierre and the court which he paid to the different parties he successively joined, and afterwards deserted, were less the effect of an evil disposition, than of a timid and versatile character, and the conceit 438 BIOGEAPIIICAL SKETCHES. which made it incumbent on him to appear as a public man. His talents as an orator were by no means of the first order. He was afterwards surnamed the Anacreon of the Guillotine; but when I knew him, he was only the Anacreon of the Revolution, upon which, in his Point du Jour, he wrote some very amorous strains. — Durmont. Barere was a sort of Belial in the Convention, the meanest, yet not the least able, among those fallen spirits, who, with great adroitness and ingenuity, as well as wit and eloquence, caught opportunities as they arose, and was eminently dexterous in being always strong upon the strongest and safe upon the safest side. — Scott's Life of Napoleon. Barere was employed in obscure situations by ISTapoleon, and was alive at Brussels, where he was living in great poverty in 1831. It was one of his favorite positions at that time, that " the world could never be civilized till the punishment of death was utterly abolished, for no human being had the right to take away the life of another." This was the man who said in 1792, " The tree of liberty cannot flourish, if it is not watered by the blood of a king." — Falkners Travels in Ger- many. Barere escaped during the different ebullitions of the Revolution, be- cause he was a man without principle or character, who changed and adapted himself to every side. He had the reputation of being a man of talent, but I did not find him so. I employed him to write, but he displayed no ability. He used many flowers of rhetoric, but no solid argument. — Napoleon s Conversations ivith O'Meara. BARNAVE, Antoine Pierre Joseph Marie, born at Grenoble in 1Y61, was a barrister and deputy to the States-General. The son of a very rich attorney, he warmly espoused the revolutionary party, and was named by the tiers-etat deputy of that town to the States-General. He there showed himself from the beginning one of the most implacable enemies of the court. He warmly supported the Tennis-court oath, and declared loudly in favor of the assertion of the rights of man. In 1790 he voted the abolition of religious orders. At the meeting of May 2 2d he was one of those who were decidedly of opinion that the king should be deprived of the right of making war and peace, and opposed Mirabeau on many great questions of policy. At the sitting of June 19th he demanded that the Assembly should, before it rose, decree the suppression of all feudal titles and rights. In August he fought a duel with M. de Oazales, and wounded him with a pistol-shot. Barnave had before fought with the Viscount de Noailles ; he had fired first, and missed his adversary, who discharged his pistol in the air; the difference was then adjusted by their friends. At the time of Louis XVI.'s flight, Barnave showed great presence of mind in the midst of the stupefaction of the greatest part of the Assembly. On the news arriving of the king's arrest, Barnave was appointed, together with Petion and Latour-Mau- bourg, to bring the royal family back to Paris. In giving an account of his mission, he spoke about the inviolability of the king's person, for BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 439 which he was hooted by the Assembly. At the end of the session Barnave was appointed mayor of Grenoble, where he married the only danghter of a lawyer, who brought him a fortune of 700,000 livres. After the events of August 10, 17i)2, certain documents having established the connivance of Barnave with the court, he was brought before the revolutionary tribunal of Paris and condemned to death, Novem- ber 29, 1793. Barnave was a small but well-looking man, and professed Protestantism. Few orators of his day possessed so much grace of diction and sagacity of analj^sis. Mirabeau himself was aston- ished that a young man should speak so long, so rapidly, and so elo- quently, and said of him, " It is a young tree, which, however, will mount high, if it be let to grow." — Biographie Moderne. BAERAS, Paul Jean Francois Nicolas, Comte de, was born at Foix, in Provence, June 30, 1755, of the family of Barras, whose antiquity in that quarter had become a proverb. He died in retirement in the 3'ear 1829. At the Revolution he was deputed to the Convention, but had no talent for oratory and no habits of business. On his return to Paris, after having been appointed commissioner to the army of Italy and to Provence, he helped to oppose Robespierre, marched against the commune which had risen in favor of the tyrant, and succeeded. Subse- quent events brought him into the Directory. He did not possess the qualiiicacions required to fill that situation, but he acted better than was exjwcted from him by those who knew him. When he went out of the -Directory he had still a large fortune, and did not attempt to con- ceal it ; but the manner in which it had been acquired, by favoring the contractors, impaired the morality of the nation. Barras was tall ; he spoke sometimes in moments of agitation, and his voice filled the house. His intellectual capacity, however, did not allow him to go beyond a few ircntcnces. He was not a man of resolution, and had no opinion of his own on any part of the administration of public affairs. — Las Cases. Barras had formerly served in India, and had there displayed the courage of a soldier. He was a fit man to mount his horse on occasion of disturbances ; and it was in this manner, as we have seen, that he had earned his place in the Directory. Hence, on all difficult occasions, he would still talk of mounting his horse and putting to the sword the enemies of the republic. In person he was tall and handsome ; but in his countenance there M-as something dark and sinister, that harmonized little with his disposition, which was rather passionate than wicked. Though he belonged by birth to the higher ranks, his manners indicated no superiority of breeding. They were blunt, bold, and vulgar. He was endowed with a soimdness and a penetration of mind which, with study and application, might have become highly distinguished faculties ; but, indolent and ignorant, he knew at most only what is learned in a stormy life, and in those matters upon which he was daily called to give his opinion he manifested good sense enough to induce regret that he should not have had a more careful education. In other respects, dissolute 440 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. and rough, violent and false like the Southerns, who are apt to conceal duplicity under the guise of bluntness, republican by sentiment and by position, but a man without faith, admitting to his house the most violent revolutionists of the faubourgs and all the emigrants wdio had returned to France, pleasing the one by his trivial vehemence, and the other by his spirit of intrigue, he was in reality a warm patriot, and in secret he held out hopes to all parties. In himself alone he was the entire Danton party, excepting the genius of its chief, which had not devolved on his successors. — Thiers' Fr'ench Revolution. BAETHELEMY, Fkancois, Makquis de, born at Aubagne in 1750, nephew of the celebrated author of the Travels of Anacliarsis, was brought up under the direction of his uncle, and at the commencement of the Eevolution was sent as ambassador to England, to notify the court that Louis XVI. had accepted the constitution. In 1791 he went to Switzerland in the same character; in 1795 he negotiated and signed a peace with Prussia, and in the same year a similar treaty with Spain. In 1797 he was elected into the Directory, but was involved in the downfall of the Clichyan party. After the Revolution of the 18th Brumaire, Barthelemy became a member of the conservative senate, and was soon afterwards called to the Institute. — Biographie Moderne. BEAUHAE:N'AIS, Alexander, Vicomte de, born in 1760, at Marti- nique, served with distinction as Major in the French forces under Rochambeau, which aided the United States in the revolutionary war. He married Josephine Tascher de la Pagerie, who was afterwards the wife of Bonaparte. At the breaking-out of the French Revolution, he was chosen a member of the ISTational Assembly, of which he was for some time president. In 1793 he was general of the army of the Rhine, and was afterwards minister of war. In consequence of the decree re- moving men of noble l)irth from the army, he retired to his country- seat. Having been falsely accused of promoting the surrender of Mentz, he was sentenced to death in 1794, in the thirty-fourth year of his age. — Encyclopcedia Americana. BEAUHARI^AIS, EuCxEne de, born September 3, 1780. After his mother's marriage in 1796 with Napoleon, he accompanied him to Italy and Egypt. He rapidly rose to the highest military rank, and in 1805 was made a prince of France and viceroy of Italy. In 1806 he married the Princess Amelia Augusta of Bavaria (1788-1851), and in 1807 was created Prince of Venice, and declared by N'apoleon his adopted son, and heir of the kingdom of Italy. Wise, honorable, and virtuous, he showed great military talent in the Italian campaigns, in the wars against Austria, and in the retreat from Moscow. In the Hundred Days he took no part ; and he was allowed to retain his possessions in the March of Ancona, large sums being granted him in compensation for his other Italian possessions, with which he purchased the landgraviate of Leuchtenburg and principality of Eichstadt, as Duke of Leuchten- BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 443 burg, taking his place among the nobles of Bavaria. He died at Munich, February 21, 1824. Eugene Beauharnais was not more than fourteen or fifteen years of age when he ventured to introduce himself to Bonaparte, for the purpose of soliciting hi father's sword, of which he understood the general had become possessed. The countenance and frank air of Eugene pleased Napoleon, and he immediately granted him the boon he sought. As soon as the sword was placed in the boy's hands he burst into tears, and kissed it. This feeling of affection for his father's memory increased Bonaparte's interest in his young visitor. His mother, Josephine, on learning the kind reception which the general had given her son, thought it her duty to call and thank him. Napoleon returned her visit, and the acquaintance thus commenced, speedily led to their marriage. — Memoirs of Constant. BERNADOTTE, Jean Baptiste Jules, was born at Pan, January 26, 1764. His father was a lawyer. In 1780 the son entered the mili- tary profession, and was still a sergeant in 1789. When the Revolution broke out, he embraced its principles with enthusiasm, and obtained quick promotion in the army. In 1794 he was general of division at the battle of Eleurus; and in 1796 he served in Jourdan's army. He after- wards led reinforcements to tliQ army of Italy, and shortly before the 18th Fructidor, Bonaparte chose him to carry to the Directory the banners taken at the battle of Rivoli. After the treaty of Campo Formio, Bernadotte was appointed ambassador of the French republic to the court of Vienna. He was next placed in the ministry of war, but, being speedily removed from office, retired into private life till the 18th Brumaire, when Napoleon called him to the council of state. In 1804, on the establishment of the Empire, Bernadotte was created a marshal. He greatly distinguished himself at the battle of Austerlitz, and, in the same year, the Emperor created him Prince of Ponte-Corvo. From the close of 1807 to 1809 he commanded the French army which remained in the north of Germany. At the battle of Wagram he led the Saxon allies, who fought with great skill and bravery. In conse- quence, however, of an altercation with the Emperor, he quitted the service, and went to Paris. In 1810 he was appointed successor to the Swedish throne, by the name of Charles John. In 1813 he issued a formal declaration of war against Napoleon, placed himself at the head of the Swedish army in Germany, and contributed greatly to the victory of the allies at Leipsic. In the following year he obtained the cession of Norway to Sweden. In 1818 he succeeded to the throne by the title of Charles XIV. — Enci/rJnpcpdia Americanfi. Bernadotte, said Napoleon, was ungrateful to me, as I was the author of his greatness ; but I cannot say that he betrayed me ; he in a manner became a Swede, and never promised that which he did not in- tend to perform. I can accuse him of ingratitude, but not of treachery. Neither Murat nor he would have declared against me, had they thought 444 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. it would have lost me my throne. Their wish was, to diminish my power, but not to destroy me altogether. Bernadotte is a Gascon, a little inclined to boasting. — A Voice from St. Helena. BERTHIER, Louis Alexandek, Prince of ISTeufchatel and Wagram, marshal, vice-constable of France, was born at Versailles, November 20, 1753. He was the son of a distinguished officer, and was, while yet young, employed in the general staff, and fought with Lafayette for the liberty of the United States. In 1791 he was appointed chief of the general staff in Luckner's army, marched against La Vendee in 1793, and joined the army of Italy in 1796. In the year 1798 he received the chief command of the army of Italy, and afterwards, being much attached to Bonaparte, followed him to Egypt, who, on his return to Paris, appointed him minister of war. Having, in 1806, accompanied the Emperor in his campaign against Prussia, he signed the armistice of Tilsit in 1807. Being apj)ointed vice-constable of France, he mar- ried in 1808, the daughter of Duke William of Bavaria-Birkenf eld ; and, having distinguished himself at Wagram, in 1809, he received the title of Prince of Wagram. In the following year, as proxy for ISTa- poleon, he received the hand of Maria Louisa, daughter of the Emperor of Austria, and accompanied her to France. In 1812 he accompanied the French army to Russia. After Bonaparte's abdication he obtained tlie confidence of Louis XVIIL, whom, on the Emperor's return, he accompanied to the l^etherlands, whence he repaired to his family at Bamberg. On his arrival at this place he was observed to be sunk in profound melancholy, and when the music of the Russian troops, on their march to the French l)orders, was heard at the gates of the city, he put an end to his life by throwing liimself from a window of the third story of his palace. — Encydopcedia Americana. Berthier was small and ill-shaped, without being actually deformed; liis head was too large for his body; his hair, neither light nor dark, was rather frizzed than curled ; his forehead, eyes, nose, and chin, each in the proper place, were, however, by no means handsome in the aggregate. His hands, naturally ugly, became frightful by a habit of biting his nails : add to this, that he stammered much in speaking ; and that if he did not make grimaces, the agitation of his features was so rapid as to occasion some amusement to those who did not take a direct interest in his dignity. I must add, that he was an excellent man, ^vith a thousand good qualities, neutralized by weakness. Berthier was good in every acceptation of the word. — Duchess d'Ahrantes. BESSIERES, Jean Baptihte, Duke of Istria^ was born at Preissac, August 6, 1768. His family was of humble origin. At an early age he obtained admission into the Guard of Louis XVL, and on the dissolution of that body was attached to the legion of the Pyrenees. In 1796 he joined the army of Italy, and was noticed for his bravery by Bonaparte, who intrusted him with the command of his guides, a corps which by successive augmentations became in the sequel the famous Imperial BIOGKAnilCAL SKETCHES. 445 Guard, of which Bessicres retained the command till his death. He fought at Jena, Friedland, and Eylau, exhibiting both valor and pru- dence. He then went to Spain, and defeated Cuesta in a pitched battle, which opened the way for the French to Madrid. At Wagram he led the French horse against the Austrian flank, and in 1812 went through the Russian campaign with honor. The opening of the next saw him in the place of Murat — at the head of the cavalry of the whole army. He was killed in the evening before the battle of Lutzen while forcing a defile. Marshal Bessieres was an excellent soldier and a good man, and did all in his power to mitigate the horrors of war. — Court and Camp of Bonaparte. Bessieres, Duke of Istria, always continued good, humane, and generous; of antique loyalty and integrity; and, whether considered as a citizen or a soldier, an honest, worthy man. He often made use of the high favor in which he stood to do extraordinary acts of kindness, even to people of very different ways of thinking from himself. He was adored by the guards, in the midst of whom he passed his life. At the battle of Wagram, a ball struck him off his horse, without doing him- any further injury. A mournful cry arose from the whole battalion, upon which iSTapoleon remarked, the next time he saw him, " Bessieres, the ball which struck you drew tears from all my guard. Return thanks to it. It ought to be very dear to you." After living like Bayard, Bes- sieres died like Turenne. He was sincerely attached to the Emperor. Indeed, he almost worshipped him ; and would certainly never have abandoned his person or his fortunes. — Las Cases. BILLAUD-VARET^NES, Jacques Nicolas, was born at Rochelle, which place he quitted several years before the Revolution, at the age of twenty-three, from vexation that the people there had hissed a the- atrical piece of his composition. He then went to Paris, where he got himself admitted a barrister, and married a natural daughter of M. de Verdun, the only one of the farmers-general who was not guillotined. In 1792, he was substitute for the attorney of the commune of Paris, and became one of the directors of the September massacres. In 1795, he was sentenced to banishment to Guiana, where he was looked upon by the people as little better than a wild beast. His principal occupa- tion, during his exile, was breeding parrots. Billaud-Varennes was the author of many dull pamplilets. — Biograpliie Moderne. Of all the sanguinary monsters, observed Xapoleon, who reigned in the Revolution, Billaud de Varennes was the worst. — A Voice from St. Helena. Billaud-Varennes was the most formidable of Robespierre's antago- nists. Both were ambitious of reigning over the ruins and the tombs with which they had covered France. But Robespierre had reached the point where his ambition could no longer be concealed. Billaud was still able to dissemble his. The tyrant was as lugubrious as death, which ever attended him in all his steps ; such, and perhaps more gloomy still, Vol. II.— L 446 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. was Billaud ; but he enveloped his projects in deeper obscurity, and pre- pared his blows with greater art. — Lacretelle. After Billaud-Varennes reached his place of transportation at Cay- enne, his life was a continued scene of romantic adventures. He escaped to Mexico, and entered, under the name of Polycarpus Varennes, the Dominican convent at Porto Rico. Being obliged to fly the continent for the part he took in the disputes between the Spanish colonies and the mother-country, Pethion, then president of Hayti, not only afforded him an asylum, but made him his secretary. After Pethion's death, Boyer refusing to employ him, he went to the United States, and died at Philadelphia in 1819. — Universal Biographie. BOISTAPARTE, Joseph, eldest brother of ITapoleon, was born in Corsica, January 7, 1768 ; studied for the bar at Marseilles, and in 1800, after he had filled several offices of state, was chosen by the First Consul as plenipotentiary to the United States. He signed the treaty of Lune- ville 1801, and that of Amiens 1802 ; and assisted in the concordat negotiations. After the coronation of ISTapoleon, Joseph was made com- mander-in-chief of the army of I^aples ; in 1805, ruler of the Two Sicilies; and in 1806, king of Naples. A humane and accomplished man, but an ineffective ruler, in 1808 he was summarily transferred by his brother to the throne of Spain, but found himself unprepared to cope with the Spanish insurgents, and after the defeat of the French at Vit- toria in 1813 returned to his estate at Morfontaine. After Waterloo he accompanied I^apoleon to Rochefort, and, himself taking ship to Amer- ica, became an American citizen, lived for some years at Bordentown, in ISTew Jersey, U. S., where he employed himself in agriculture, but in 1832 returned to Europe, and died at Florence in 1844. You would seldom see a better countenance than that of Joseph Bona- parte. With masculine strength and expression, it combines a mild, intelligent smile. Joseph is well read, not only in our literature, but in that of Italy and England. He loves poetry and the belles-lettres, and takes pleasure in surrounding himself with learned and scientific men. It has been said that his character is weak and false. He has goodness of heart, gentleness, clemency, and accuracy of judgment. His conduct, during his unfortunate reign in Spain, was, on the whole, admirable. He left France with great regret, and entreated his brother not to force a crown on him. — Duchess d' Ahr antes. BONAPARTE, Lucien, Prince of Canino, a younger brother of Napoleon, was born at Ajaccio, in 1775, and was educated at Autun, Brienne, and Aix. In 1798 he was made a member of the Council of Five Hundred, and just before the 18th Brumaire he was elected its president. He was successful as Minister of the Interior; and as am- bassador to Madrid (1800) undermined British influences. On condi- tion that he would divorce his second wife (the widow of a stockbroker), the crowns of Italy and Spain were offered him ; but he refused them, and lived on his estate of Canino, in the States of the Church, being created BIOGKAPllICAL SKETCHES. 447 by the pope Prince of Canino. He had never wholly shaken off his early strong republicanism; and having denounced the arrogant policy of his brother towards the court of Rome, he was " advised " to leave Roman territory, and in IS 10 took ship for America, but fell into the hands of the English, and was kept in honorable captivity at Ludlow and Thorn- grove, Worcestershire, till 1S14. After Waterloo he advised his brother to assume the place of absolute dictator. After the second restoration Lucien lived in and near Rome, occupied with science and art, and died at Viterbo in 1840. Lucien Bonaparte, in the year 1797, was about twenty-two years of age; he was tall, ill-shaped, having limbs like those of the field-spider, and a small liead, which, with his tall stature, would have made him unlike his brothers, had not his physiognomy attested their common parentage. He was very near-sighted, which made him half-shut his eyes and stoop his head. This defect would, therefore, have given him an unpleasing air, if his smile, always in harmony with his features, had not imparted something agreeable to his countenance. Thus, though he was rather plain, he pleased generally. He had very remarkable success with women who were themselves very remarkable, and that long before his brother arrived at power. With respect to understanding and talent, Lucien always displayed abundance of both. In early youth, when he met with a subject he liked, he identified himself with it. He lived at that time in an ideal world. Thus at eighteen, the perusal of Plutarch carried him into the Forum and the Pyrseus, He was a Greek with Demosthenes, a Roman with Cicero; he espoused all the ancient glories, but he was intoxicated with those of our own time. Those who, because they had no conception of this enthusiasm, alleged that he was jealous of his brother, have asserted a wilful falsehood, if they have not fallen into a most egregious error. — Duchess d'Ahrantes. BOL^ILLE, The Marquis de, was a gentleman of Auvergne, and a relative of Lafayette's. After having served in the dragoons, he be- came colonel of the regiment of Vexin infantry. Having attained the rank of major-general, the King appointed him Governor-general of the Windward Islands. In 1778 he took Dominica, St. Eustatia, and soon after St. Christopher's, Nevis, and Montserrat. On his return he was made lieutenant-general. In 1789 he brought back to its duty the re- volted garrison of Metz. On the 5th of September, in the same year, Gregoire complained to the Assembly, that M. de Bouille had not ad- ministered the civic oath individually, and obtained a decree that he should be obliged to do it. In 1790 he was commissioned to bring under subjection the garrison of Nancy. He advanced upon the town with four thousand men, and succeeded in this enterprise, in which he showed much bravery, and which at first gained him great praises from the National Assembly, and afterwards as many reproaches. Being chosen by the King to facilitate his escape from Paris in June, 1791, Bouille marched at the head of a body of troops to protect the passage of the 448 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCKES. rojal family; but, by false advices or ill-executed orders, tbis enterprise failed, and M. de Bouille bad great difficulty in leaving France. From Luxembourg be wrote to tbe Assembly a letter full of tbreats, and con- cluded by saying, tbat if a bair of Louis XVI.'s bead w^as toucbed, be would not leave one stone on anotber in Paris. On tbe 13tb of July tbe Assembly decreed tbat be sbould be tried for contumacy, and tbat tbe papers relative to tbe King's escape sbould be sent to tbe bigb court of tbe nation. Bouille passed to tbe court of Sweden, wbicb gave bim emplojTQent, and in tbe name of wbicb be promised powerful assistance to tbe Frencb princes. He died in London in 1803. — BiograpJiie Mode me. BEISSOT DE WAKVILLE, Jean Pieree, was born January 14, 1754, at a village near Cbartres. His fatber kept a cook's sbop, wbicb occasioned tbe saying tbat tbe son bad all the beat of bis father's stoves. After passing four years in an attorney's office, be turned author, and, at twenty years of age, bad already published several works, one of wbicb occasioned bis imprisonment in tbe Bastille in 1784. He married a per- son attached to the household of Madame d' Orleans, and afterwards went to England. He lived there on pay as a spy from tbe lieutenant of police at Paris. At the same time be employed himself in literature, and en- deavored to form an academy in London ; but, this speculation proving unsuccessful, be returned to France, and distinguished himself greatly during tbe Revolution. He was elected a member of the Commune, Paris, in July 1789, and in connection with Laclos drew up the petition of tbe Champ de Mars in 1791. He was elected a deputy to tbe Legisla- tive Assembly in October, 1791, and to the Convention in September, 1792. At tbe time of the trial of Louis XVI. be strove to bring the subject of bis condemnation before the people, and afterwards voted for bis death, though be was anxious to obtain a reprieve. Being de- nounced, together with the rest of the Girondins, by the Jacobins, be was guillotined, October 31, 1793. Brissot was thirty-nine years of age, of middle stature, slightly formed, and pale. He was so passionate an admirer of the Americans, that he adopted the appearance of a Quaker, and was pleased to be mistaken for one. — Biographie Moderne. Tbe following is the opinion entertained of Brissot by Lafayette, who knew bim well : " It is impossible not to be struck with various con- trasts in tbe life of Brissot: a clever man, undoubtedly, and a skilful journalist, but whose talents and influence have been greatly overrated both by friends and enemies. In other times, before be became a repub- lican, be bad made tbe old regime a subject of eulogy. It seems pretty well proved tbat, a few days before tbe lOtb of August, be, and some agitators of bis party, had been intriguing with tbe valets-de-cbambre of tbe Tuileries ; even after tbis insurrection, their only desire was to govern m tbe name of tbe prince royal. Brissot, on tbe very eve of denouncing Lafayette, told tbe Abbe Duvernet, then member of the society of Jaeobins, tbat tbe person be was going to accuse, was tbe man of all BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 451 others whom he esteemed ^d revered the most. Even while meditating the massacres of September, he saved all who came to him; and, of his own accord, discharged from prison Duport, Barnave, and Charles La- meth, who were in some measure his personal antagonists." — Mignet. BRUNE, GuiLLAUME MAiiiE Anne, born May 13, 1763, like all natives of the South, was ardent, active, fond of literature, poetry, and the tine arts; he possessed much information, and betook himself to composition. Brune was young; his head and heart confessed but one idea — glory and his country. He soon cast away pen, ink, and paper, and took to the sword. None of our marshals have been so falsely repre- sented in public opinion as Brune. He was not in Paris in the autumn of 1792, but at Radmack; so, of course, could have had no share in the September massacres. He advanced rapidly to an elevated rank in the army; distinguished himself in the campaign of Italy; was aftrwards named general-in-chief of the army in Helvetia. On the establishment of the Consulate, Brune was appointed to the army of Italy, when, with the assistance of Suchet and Davoust, he nearly destroyed the Austrian army. In 1804, he was one of tlic sixteen marshals whom Bonaparte ap- pointed when he ascended the imperial throne. He was afterwards, for many years, in disgrace; but on Napoleon's return in 1815, he accepted the command of the eiglith military division. On the restoration of Louis, Brune went to Toulon, to restore the white flag there ; after which he was summoned to Paris. On his way thither, at Avignon, he was warned that much agitation prevailed in the town, particularly directed against him, but turning a deaf ear to all remonstrance, he commanded his postilions to drive to the post-house. Here an armed mob, calling themselves royalists, besieged him in a room; the mayor and a few gendarmes succeeded in protecting him for some time, while three thousand citizens looked on with apathy. All resistance, however, was at length overpowered, and, under tlie pretext that Brune had been the murderer of the Princess Lamballe, he was put to death by the mob; his lacerated corpse, after being dragged through the mud, was thrown into the Rhone, and the river refusing to retain it, it lay two- days un- buried on the strand. — Duchess d'Ahrantes. BUZOT, Francois Nicol.xs Leonard, was born at Evreux, Septem- ber 23, 1760, and was an advocate in that city at the time of the Revolu- tion, which he embraced with ardor. In 1792 he was deputed by the Eure to the National Assembly. At the time of the King's trial he voted for his death, though not for his immediate execution, and he was even one of those who most warmly solicited a reprieve for him. In the March following, he more than once gave warning of the despotism of the mob of Paris, and ended one of his speeches by tlireatcning that city with the sight of the grass growing in the streets if confusion should reign there much longer. In April he contended against the Jacobins, who, ho said, were influenced by men of blood. Having been denounced as a Girondin, he made his escape from Paris, and after wandering 452 BIOGRAPUICAL SKETCHES. about some time, was found, together with Petion, dead in a field, and half-eaten bj wolves. — Biographie Moderne. CADOUDAL, George, a Chonan chief, born at Auraj in 1Y69, was the son of a village miller. When Bretagne took up arms, he entered the service as a common horseman, and in 1795 was considered the head of the plebeian party. In 1Y96 and the three ensuing years he continued in arms, and was the only general-in-chief who was not noble. His division was that most frequently sent against the republicans. In 1800 he concluded peace with the French government. He afterwards went to Paris, on the invitation of Bonaparte; and then to London, where he was favorably received by the English ministers. The idea of the in- fernal machine is said to have originated with him, though he denied it. In 1803 George and Pichegru landed on the coast of l^ormandy to execute a plan of assassinating the First Consul. The conspiracy, how- ever, was frustrated, and George was condemned and executed at Paris in 1804. He was thirty-five years old, and showed during his trial the greatest coolness. — Encyclopcedia Americana. One day I asked Napoleon's opinion of George Cadoudal. " George," said he, " had courage, and that was all. After the peace with the Chouans I endeavored to gain him over, as then he would have been useful to me, and I was anxious to calm all parties. I sent for, and spoke to him a long time. His father was a miller, and he was an ignorant fellow himself. I asked him. Why do you want to restore the Bourbons ? If you were even to succeed in placing them on the throne, you would still be only a miller's son in their eyes. They would hold you in contempt because you were not of noble birth. But I found that he had no heart — in fact, that he was not a Frenchman." — A Voice from St. Helena. CAMBACEEES, Jean Jacques Eegis, was born in 1753, at Mont- pellier, of an ancient family of lawyers. At the commencement of the Revolution, he received several public ofiices, and in 1792 became a member of the Convention. In 1793 he declared Louis XVI. guilty, but disputed the right of the Convention to judge him, and voted for his provisory arrest, and in case of a hostile invasion, for his death. As a member of the committee of public safety, Cambaceres reported the treason of Dumouriez. After the fall of the Terrorists, he entered into the council of Five Hundred, where he presented a new plan for a civil code, which became subsequently the foundation of the Code l^apoleon. On the 18th Brumaire, he was chosen second consul, and after Bonaparte had ascended the throne, was appointed arch-chancellor of the Empire. In 1808 he was created Duke of Parma. On the approach of the allies in 1814, he followed the government, whence he sent his consent to the Emperor's abdication. On the return of ISTapoleon, in the following year, he was made president of the House of Peers, and on the Em- peror's second downfall, was banished, and went to live at Brussels. In 1818 the King permitted him to return to Paris, where he lived BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 453 afterwards as a private individual, and died in 1824. — Encyclopcedia Americana. The Consul Cambaceres received company every Tuesday and Satur- day, and no other house in Paris could stand a comparison with his hotel. He was a consummate epicure, had ^reat conversational powers, and the incidents of his narratives acquired novelty and grace from the turn of his language. I may be allowed to call him an honest man, for, looking round on all his equals in power, I have never found one of such absolu<-e good faith and probity. His figure was extraordinarily ugly, as well as unique. The slow and regular step, the measured cadence of accentuation, the very look, which was three times as long as another's to arrive at its object — all was in admirable keeping with the long person, long nose, long chin, and the yellow skin, which betrayed not the smallest symptoms that any matter inclining to sanguine circulated be- neath its cellular texture. The same consistency pervaded his dress; and when demurely promenading the galleries of the Palais Royal, then the Palais Egalite, the singular cut and color of his embroidered coat; his ruffles, at that time so uncommon ; his short breeches, silk stockings, shoes polished with English blacking, and fastened with gold buckles, his old-fashioned wig and queue, and his well-appointed and well-placed three-cornered hat, produced altogether a most fantastic effect. — Duchess d'Ahrantes. CARXOT, Lazare Nicolas Marguerite, born at ISTolay, May 13, 1753, was one of the first officers of the French army who embraced cordially and enthusiastically the regenerating views of the National Assembly. In 1791 he was in the garrison at St. Omer, where he mar- ried Mademoiselle Dupont, daughter of a merchant there. His political principles, the moderation of his conduct, and his varied knowledge pro- cured for him soon after the honor of a seat in the legislature, from which period he devoted himself wholly to the imperative duties imposed on him either by the choice of his fellow-citizens, or by the suffrages of his colleagues. The Convention placed in the hands of Carnot the colossal and incoherent mass of the military requisition. It was necessary to organize, discipline, and teach. He drew from it fourteen armies. He had to create able leaders. His penetrating eye ranged through the most obscure ranks in search of talent united with courage and disinterested- ness; and he promoted it rapidly to the highest grades. In 1802, Carnot opposed the creation of the Legion of Honor. He likewise opposed the erection of the consulate for life; but it was most especially at the period when it was proposed to raise Bonaparte to the throne that he exerted all his energy. He stood alone in the midst of the general defec- tion. His conduct during the Hundred Days appears to me summed up completely in the memorable words which Napoleon addressed to him, on entering the carriage when he was going to Rochefort : " Carnot, I have known you too late!" After the catastrophe of the Hundred Days, Carnot was proscribed, and obliged to expatriate himself. He died at 454 BIOGKAPinCAL SKETCHES. Magdeburg in 1823, at the age of seventy years. It is true, he had ambi- tion, but he has himself told us its character — it was the ambition of the three hundred Spartans going to defend Thermopylte. — Arago. Carnot was a man laborious and sincere, but liable to the influence of intrigues, and. easily deceived. When minister oi war he showed but little talent, and had many quarrels with the ministers of finance and the treasury, in all of which he was wrong. He left the government, convinced that he could not fulfil his station for want of money. He afterwards voted against the establishment of the empire, but as his conduct was always upright, he never gave any umbrage to the govern- ment. During the prosperity of the empire he never asked for anything ; but, after the misfortunes of Russia, he demanded employment and got the command of Antwerp, where he acquitted himself very well. After iNTapoleon's return from Elba, he was minister of the interior, and the emperor had every reason to be satisfied with liis conduct. He was faithful, and a man of truth and probity. — A Voice from St. Helena. The royalists and their foreign allies have never been able to forgive Carnot's signal military exploits during the war of the French Revolu- tion ; and affected to confound him with Robespierre, as if he had been the accomplice of that monster in the Reign of Terror. Situated as Carnot then was, he had but one alternative — either to continue in the committee of public safety, co-operating with men whom he abhorred, and lending his name to their worst deeds, while he was fain to close his eyes upon their details ; or to leave the tremendous war which France was then waging for her existence, in the hands of men so utterly unfit to conduct the machine an instant, that immediate conquest, in its worst shape, must have been the consequence of his desertion. There may be many an honest man who would have preferred death to any place in Robespierre's committee; but it is fair to state that in all probability Carnot saved his country by persevering in the management of the wari — Edinburgh Review. CARRA, Jean Louis, was born at Pont-du-Vesle in 1743. He called himself a man of letters before the Revolution, because he had written some bad articles in the Encyclopaedia. At the beginning of the troubles, he went to Paris ; made himself remarkable among the most violent revolutionists, and, in 1789, proposed the formation of the municipality of Paris, and of the city guard. It was Carra who thought of arming the people with pikes. Always preaching up murder and pillage in his writings, he was one of the chiefs of the revolt of August 10, 1792 ; and in his journal, he gloried in having traced out the plan of that day. Being denounced by Robespierre, he was condemned to death, and executed October 31, 1793. — Biographie Moderne. CARRIER, Jean Baptiste, born in Auvergne in 1756, and an obscure attorney at the beginning of the Revolution, was deputed in 1792, to the Convention, aided in the establishment of the revolutionary tribunal, and exhibited the wildest rage for persecution. He voted for a\ _^.^' ^9 ^BHnXM^^^r--' MB ^^^^^^^^^^^^3^^H^9BkwS>«^^^ ^; 'H| miim ^^^^^^^^■^^^ '^"^H ^^^^^^B^^^flBk ''^H ^^^^H^^^^^ ; ' f \ Tj'-' ^***g BIOOKAPHICAL SKETCHES. ' 457 tlie King's death, and, in 1793, was sent to Nantes with a commission to suppress the civil war by severity, which he exercised in the most atrocious manner. After the fall of Robespierre, Carrier was appre- hended, and condemned to death in December, 1794. — Encyclopccdia A mericana. Out of 500 members, 498 voted in favor of the sentence of death against Carrier, the remaining two were also in favor of it, but condi- tionally. — Ilazlitt. It is my plan to carry off from that accursed country. La Vendee, all manner of subsistence or provisions for man or beast: all forage — in a word, everything — give all the buildings to the flames, and exterminate the inhabitants. Oppose their being relieved by a single grain of corn for their subsistence. I give you the most positive — the most imperious orders. You are answerable for the execution from this moment. In a word, leave nothing in that proscribed country — let, the means of sub- sistence, provisions, forage, everything — positively everything, be re- moved to ISTantes. — Extract from Carrier's Letter to General Haxo. CATHELINEAU, Jacques, born near St. Flaurent, January 5, 1759, was a wool-dealer of the village of Pin en Mauges, who took the resolu- tion of standing up for his king and country, facing the evils which were not to be avoided, and doing his duty manfully in arms. His wife en- treated him not to form this perilous resolution ; but this was no time for such humanities ; so, leaving his work, he called the villagers about him, and succeeded in inducing them to take up arms. He was killed, during the attack on ISTantes, June 29, 1793. — Quarterly Review. CHABOT, Francois, a Capuchin, born in the department of Aveyron in 1759, eagerly profited by the opportunity of breaking his vows, which the decree of the Constituent iVssembly offered him. In 1792 he was appointed deputy of Loire-et-Chcr to the legislature. In the same year, he went so far as to cause himself to be slightly wounded by six confidential men, in order that he might accuse the King of being the author of this assassination. It is asserted that he even pressed Merlin and Bazire to murder him, and then to carry his bloody corpse into the faubourg, to hasten the. insurrection of the people, and the destruction of the monarch. Chabot was one of the chief instigators of the events of August 10th, and voted afterAvards for the death of the King. He was condemned to death by Bobespierre as a partisan of the Dantonist faction. When he knew what his fate was to be, he poisoned himself with corrosive sublimate of mercury ; but the dreadful pain he suffered having extorted shrieks from him, he was conveyed to the infirmary, and his life pro- longed till April 5, 1794, when he was guillotined. Chabot died with IRrmness at the age of thirty-five. — Biographie Moderne. CHARETTE DE LA CONTRIE^ Francois Athanase, born near Ancenis, April 21, 1763, was the only individual to whom !N"apoleon attached particular importance. I have read a history of La Vendee, said he to me, and if the details and portraits are correct, Charette was 458 BIOGRAPllICAT. SKETCHES. the only great character — the true hero of that remarkable episode in our revolution. He impressed me with the idea of a great man. He betrayed genius. I replied, that I had known Charette very well in my youth, and that his brilliant exploits astonished all who had formerly been acquainted with him. We looked on him as a commonplace sort of man, devoid of information, ill-tempered, and extremely indolent. When, however, he began to rise into celebrity, his early friends recol- lected a circumstance which certainly indicated decision of character. When Charette was first called into service during the American war, he sailed out of Brest on board a cutter during the winter. The cutter lost her mast, and to a vessel of that description, such an accident was equivalent to certain destruction. The weather was stormy — death seem- ed inevitable — and the sailors, throwing themselves on their knees, lost all presence of mind, and refused to exert themselves. At this crisis, Charette, notwithstanding his extreme youth, killed one of the men, in order to compel the rest to do their duty. This dreadful example had the desired effect, and the ship was saved. Ay, said the Emperor, here was the spark that distinguished the hero of La Vendee. Men's dispositions are often misunderstood. There are sleepers whose waking is terrible. Charette was one of these. — Las Cases. After his capture, Charette entered into l^antes preceded by a nu- merous escort, closely guarded by gendarmes, and generals glittering in gold and plumes ; himself on foot, with his clothes torn and bloody, pale and attenuated; yet more an object of interest than all the splendid throng by whom he was surrounded. Such was his exhaustion from loss of blood, that he fainted on leaving the Quarter of Commerce; but no sooner was his strength revived by a glass of water, than he marched on, enduring for two hours, with heroic constancy, the abuse of the populace. He was conducted to the military commission, and sentenced to be shot. On the following morning he was brought out on the scaffold. The roll of drums, the assemblage of all the troops and national guard, and a countless multitude of spectators, announced the great event which was approaching. At length the hero appeared, descended with a firm step the prison stairs, and walked to the place where his execution was to take place. A breathless silence prevailed. Charette advanced to the ap- pointed place, bared his breast, and himself gave the command, uttering, with his last breath, the words " Vive le Roi !" — Alison. CHAUMETTE, Pierre Gaspard, attorney of the commune of Paris, was born at I'J'evers, May 24, 1763. His father was a shoemaker. After having been a cabin-boy, a steersman, a transcriber, and an attorney's clerk at Paris, he worked under the journalist Prudhomme, who describes him as a very ignorant fellow. He soon acquired great power in the capital, and in 1793 proposed the formation of a revolutionary tribunal without appeal, and a tax on the rich. At the same time, he contrived the Festivals of Reason, and the orgies and profanations which polluted all the churches in Paris, and even proposed that a moving guillotine BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCHES. 459 mounted on four wheels, should follow the revolutionary army " to shed blood in profusion !" Chaumette also proposed the cessation of public worship, and the equality of funerals ; and procured an order for the demolition of all monuments of religion and royalty. He was executed, by order of Robespierre, April 13, 1794, twenty days after Hebert, to whose party he had attached himself. — Biographie Moderne. The municipal faction of Chaumette and Hebert had not only struck at the root of religious worship, but they had attempted also to alter the whole existing social code. " The most sacred relations of life," says Mr. Alison, "' were at the same period placed on a new footing, suited to the extravagant ideas of the times. Marriage was declared a civil con- tract, binding only during the pleasure of the contracting parties. Di- vorce immediately became gene'ral ; and the corruption of manners reached a height unknowm during the worst days of the monjirchy. So indiscriminate did concubinage become, that, by a decree of the Con- vention, bastards were declared entitled to an equal share of the succes- sion with legitimate children. The divorces in Paris in the first three months of 1792 were 562, while the marriages were only 1785 — a pro- portion probably unexampled among mankind ! The consequences soon became apparent. Before the era of the Consulate, one-half of the whole births in Paris were illegitimate." CLOOTZ, Jean Baptiste du Val-de-Grace, a Prussian baron, as- sumed the name of Anacharsis Clootz. He was born at Cleves, on June 24, 1755, and became the possessor of a considerable fortune, which he dissipated by his misconduct. He was not destitute of ability, but M^as half-crazed by his fanatical love of liberty, and his constant habit of poring over the works of German metaphysicians. As he was the nephew of Cornelius Parr, author of several works, he thought he must also be a writer. He travelled in dilferent parts of Europe, and particularly cultivated the society of Burke, who was then a member of the opposition in the English Parliament. During the French Revolution, Clootz made himself notorious by the absurd extravagance of his conduct. The mas- querade, kno\vn by the name of the " Embassy of the Human Race," was the first scene in which he attracted attention. He appeared on June 19, 1790, at the bar of the National Assembly, followed by a con- siderable body of Parisian porters in foreign dresses, whom he presented as deputies from all nations. He styled himself the " Orator of the human race," and requested to be admitted to the Federation, which was agreed to. On January 22, 1792, he wrote a letter to the Legisla- tive Assembly, beginning thus : " The orator of the human race to the legislature of the human race sends greeting." On April 21st he de- livered a ridiculous tirade at the bar relative to the declaration of war against the King of Hungary and Bohemia ; proposed to the Assembly to adhere for a year to a strict regimen ; and ended by offering, what he called, a patriotic gift of 12,000 livres. He in consequence obtained the honor of a seat among the members. On August 12th he came to con- 460 BIOGEAPniCAL SKETCHES. gratulate the Assembly on the events of the 10th, and offered to raise a Prussian legion. On the 27th, he begged the Assembly to set a price on the heads of the King of Prussia and the Duke of Brunswick, and de- livered a long speech, in which the following expressions occurred: "Charles IX. had a successor; Louis will have none." "You know how to value the heads of philosophers ; a price yet remains to be set on those of tyrants." " My heart is French, and my soul sans-culotte." The hatred of this fanatic against the Christian religion was as fervent as that which he entertained against the monarchy. In September, 1792, he was deputed from the Oise to the Convention, where he voted for the death of Louis XVI. in the name of the human race ! In the same year he published a work entitled The Universal Eepuhlic, wherein he laid it down as a principle " that the people was the sovereign of the world — nay, that it was God !" — " that fools alone believed in a Supreme Being!" etc. He soon afterwards fell under the suspicion of Robespierre, was arrested as a Hebertist, and condemned to death on March 24, 1794. He died with great firmness, and, on his way to execution, lectured He- bert on materialism, " to prevent him," as he said, " from yielding to religious feelings in his last moments." He even asked to be executed after all his accomplices, in order that he might have time " to establish certain principles during the fall of their heads." — Biographie Moderne. COLLOT-D'HEPBOIS, Jean Marie, born at Paris about 1753, first appeared on the stage, and had little success. He played at Geneva, at the Hague, and at Lyons, where, having been often liissed, he vowed the most cruel vengeance against that town. The line of acting in which he played best was that of tyrants in tragedies. He went to Paris at the beginning of the Iievolution, and embraced the popular cause. Pos- sessed of a fine face, a powerful voice, and great boldness, he became one of the oracles at the Jacobin Club. He was no stranger to the September massacres. During tlio king's trial he sat at the top of the Mountain, by Robespierre's side, and voted for the monarch's death. It has been said of this man, who was surnamed the Tiger, that he was the most sangui- nary of the Terrorists. In 1793 he took his departure for Lyons, protest- ing that the South should soon be purified. It is from the time of this mission that his horril)le celebrity takes its rise. He sent for a column of the revolutionary army, and organized the demolitions and the employ- ment of cannon in order to make up for the slowness of the guillotine at Lyons. The victims, when about to be shot, Avere bound to a cord fixed to trees, and a picket of infantry marched round the place, firing suc- cessively on the condemned. The mitraiUades, the executions by artil- lery, took place in the Brotteaux. Those who were destined for this punishment were ranged two by two on the edge of th^. ditches that had been dug to receive their bodies, and cannons, loaded tvith small bits of metal, were fired upon them; after which, some troops of the revolu- tionary army despatched the wounded with swords or bayonets. Two women and a young girl having solicited the pardon of their husbands AXACITARSTS CI.OOTZ. BIOGllArillCAI. SKETCHES. 463 and brothers, Collot-d'IIerbois had them bound on the scaffold where their relations expired, and their blood spouted out on them. On his return to Paris, being denounced to the National Convention by petitioners from Lyons, he answered, that " the cannon had been fired but once on sixty of the most guilty, to destroy them with a single stroke." The Convention approved of his measures, and ordered that his speech should be printed. In the year 1794, returning home at one o'clock in the morning, Collot was attacked by Admiral, who fired at him twice with a pistol, but missed his aim. The importance which this adventure gave him, both in the Convention of which he was nominated president, and elsewhere, irritated the self-love of Robespierre, whom Collot afterwards denounced. In 1795 he was transported to Guiana, where he endeavored to stir up the blacks against the whites. — Biographie Modeme. Collot-d'Herbois died in exile at Cayenne. He was found one day lying on the ground, with his face exposed to a burning sun, in a raging fever. The negroes who were appointed to carry him from Kouron to Cayenne, had thrown him down to perish. He expired, vomiting froth and blood, and calling upon that God whom he had so often renounced. — Pitons Voyage to Cayenne. COISTDE, Louis Joseph de Bourbon, Prince of, was born at Chan- tilly, August 9, 1736. He was the only son of the Duke of Bourbon and the Princess of Hesse-Rheinfels. In 1753 he married the Princess of Rohan-Soubise, who in 1756 bore him the Prince of Bourbon-Conde. In the seven years' war he distinguished himself by his skill and courage and in 1762 gained a victory at Johannisberg over the heredi- tary Prince of Brunswick. In the Revolution he emigrated in 1789, to Brussels, and thence to Turin. He afterwards formed* a little corps of emigrant nobility, which joined the Austrian army under Wurmser. In 1795 he entered with his corps into the English service. In 1797 he entered the Russian service, and marched with his corps to Russia, where he was hospitably received by Paul I. In 1800, after the separation of Russia from the coalition, he re-entered the English service. He re- turned to Paris in 1814; and the next year fled with the king to Ghent. He died at Paris in 1818. His grandson was the unfortunate Duke d'Enghien. — Cyclopcpdia Americana. CONDORCET, Marie Jean Antoine Nicolas de Caritat, Mar- quis de, was born at St. Quentin, in Picardy, September 17, 1743. His was one of the oldest families in Dauphine. He was educated in the col- lege of Navarre, at Paris, and from early youth devoted himself to the study of the exact sciences. The Duke of Rochefoucault was his patron ; and introduced him into the world at the age of nineteen. With astonish- ing facility Condorcet treated the most difficult problems in mathematics, and gained such celebrity as a man of science, that, in 1777, he was made secretary to the Academy of Sciences. He contributed several articles to the Encyclopcedia, and was intimate with most of the ^vriters of that great work. Under a cold exterior, Condorcet concealed the most violent 464 BIOGEAPHICAL SKETCHES. passions. D'Alembert compared him to a volcano covered with snow. On the intelligence of the king's flight, he defined the royal dignity as an anti-social institution. In 1792 he was appointed President of the As- sembly, and composed the proclamation addressed to the French and to Enrope, which announced the abolition of royalty. On the trial of Louis he voted for the severest sentence not capital ; at the same time he voted for the abolition of capital punishments, except in crimes against the state. In 1793 he was accused of being an accomplice with Brissot, and, to save his life, concealed himself in the house of Madame Verney, where he remained eight months, during which period, though in con- stant fear of discovery, he wrote one of his best philosophical treatises. Having at length learned that death was denounced against all who harbored a proscribed individual, he left his generous hostess, and fled in disguise from Paris. He wandered about for some time, until, driven by hunger, he entered a small inn at Clamar, where he was arrest- ed as a suspicious person, and thrown into prison. On the following morning, March 28, 1794, he was found dead on the floor of his room, having apparently swallowed poison, which he always carried about him, and which nothing but his love for his wife and daughter prevented him using before. — Encyclopcedia Americana. CORDAY D'ARMANS, Charlotte, was born at St. Saturnin des Lignerets, in the year 1768. ISTature had bestowed on her a handsome person, wit, feeling, and a masculine understanding. She received her education in a convent, where she labored with constant assiduity to culti- vate her own powers. The Abbe Raynal was her favorite modern author ; and the Revolution found in her an ardent proselyte. Her love of study rendered her careless of the homage that her beauty attracted, though she was said to have formed an attachment to M. Belzunce, major of the regiment of Bourbon, quartered at Caen. This young officer was mas- sacred in 1789, after Marat in several successive numbers of his journal had denounced Belzunce as a counter-revolutionist. From this moment Charlotte Corday conceived a great hatred of Marat, which was in- creased after the overthrow of the Girondins, whose principles she reverenced ; and, being resolved to gratify her vengeance, she left Caen in 1793, and arrived about noon on the third day at Paris. Early on the second morning of her arrival she went into the Palais Royal, bought a knife, hired a coach, and drove to the house of Marat. Being denied admittance, she returned to her hotel, and wrote the following letter: " Citizen, I have just arrived from Caen ; your love for your country in- clines me to suppose you will listen with pleasure to the secret events of that part of the republic. I will present myself at your house; have the goodness to give orders for my admission, and grant me a moment's private conversation. T can point out the means by w^hich you may render an important service to France." In the fear that this letter might not produce the effect she desired, she wrote another, still more pressing, which she took herself. On knocking at the door, Marat, who CHAUI.OTTE COUOAY. BIOQKAPHICAL, SKETCHES. 467 was in his bath, ordered her to be instantly admitted ; when, being left alone with him, she answered with perfect self-possession all his in- quiries respecting the proscribed deputies at Caen. While he made memorandums of their conversation, Charlotte Corday coolly measured with her eye the spot whereon to strike ; and then, snatching the weapon from her bosom, she buried the entire knife right in his heart ! A single exclamation escaped Marat. "Help!" he said, and expired. Having been tried and found guilty, Charlotte Corday still maintained a noble and dignified deportment, welcoming death, not as the expiation of a crime, but as the inevitable consequence of a mighty effort to avenge the injuries of a nation. The hour of her punishment drew immense crowds to the place of execution. When she appeared alone with the executioner in the cart, in despite of the constrained attitude in which she sat, and of the disorder of her dress, she excited the silent admiration of those even who were hired to curse her. One man alone had courage to raise his voice in her praise. His name was Adam Lux, and he was a deputy from the city of Mentz. " She is greater than Brutus !" he exclaimed. This sealed his death-warrant. He was soon afterwards guillotined. — Du Broca. " Pardon me, my dear father," wrote Charlotte Corday, " for having disposed of my life without your permission. I have avenged many victims — prevented others. The people will one day acknowledge the service I have rendered my country. For your sake I wished to remain incognito; but it was impossible. I only trust you will not be injured by what I have done. Farewell, my beloved father! Forget me, or rather rejoice at my fate, for it has sprung from a noble cause. Em- brace my sister for me, whom I love with all my heart. Never forget the words of Corneille — the crime makes the shame, and not the scaf- fold." — Alison. On her way to the scaffold, Charlotte Corday heard nothing but applause and acclamation, yet by a smile alone she discovered what she felt. When she had ascended the place of execution, her face still glowed with the hue of pleasure; and even in her last moments, the handker- chief which covered her bosom having been removed, her cheeks were suffused with the blush of modesty. At the time of her death, she wanted three months of her twenty-fifth year. She was descended from Peter Corneille. — Paris Journal, 1797. COUTHOX, J., surnamed Cato during the Reign of Terror, was born at Orsay in 175G, and was an advocate at Clerrnont. He was deputed to the legislature and the Convention. Before this period he enjoyed in his own country a reputation for gentleness and integrity; yet he embraced the revolutionary principles with astonishing eagerness, and, during the sitting of the Convention, showed himself the most ardent partisan of sanguinary measures. Prudhomme says, that it was in his chamber at Paris that the Duke of Orleans, Danton, Marat, Petion, Robespierre, and others, assembled to arrange the insurrection of August 468 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCHES. 10, 1792. In the following year Couthon voted for the king's death, and eagerly opposed delay. He soon afterwards attacked the Girondins, and became the favorite tool of Robespierre. Being sent to Lyons, he pre- sided at the execution of the rebel chiefs, and began to put in force the decree which ordered the demolition of that city. Being afterwards implicated with the party of Bobespierre, the armed force came to seize him; when he perceived they were going to lay hold of him, he struck himself slightly with a dagger, and feigned himself dead. In the year 1794- he was executed, and suffered horribly before he died ; his singular conformation, and the dreadful contraction of his limbs at that time, so incommoded the executioner while fastening him on the plank of the guillotine, that he was obliged to lay him on his side to give the fatal blow; his torture lasted longer than that of fourteen other sufferers. — Biographie Moderne. Couthon was a decrepit being, whose lower extremities were paralyzed — whose benevolence of feeling seemed to pour itself out in the most gentle expressions uttered in the most melodious tones — whose sensibility led him constantly to foster a favorite spaniel in his bosom that he might have something on which to bestow kindness and caressfes — but who was at heart as fierce as Danton, and as pitiless as Kobespierre. — Scott's Life of Napoleon. Attended by a crowd of satellites, Couthon traversed the finest quarters of Lyons with a silver hammer, and, striking at the door of the devoted houses, exclaimed, '" Bebellious house, I strike you in the name of the law." Instantly the agents of destruction, of whom twenty thousand were in the pay of the Convention, levelled the dwelling to the ground. But this was only a prelude to a more bloody vengeance. — Alisoji. CTJSTINE, Count Adam Bhilippe, born at Metz, February 4, 1740, served as captain in the seven years' war. Through the influence of the Duke of Choiseul, he obtained, in 1762, a regiment of dragoons, which was called by his name. In 1780 he exchanged this for the regiment of Saintonge, which was on the point of going to America, to the aid of the colonies. On his return, he was appointed marechal de camp. In 1789 he was deputy of the nobility of Metz, and was one of the first who de- clared for the popular party. He subsequently entered the army of the INorth, and, 1792, made himself master of the pass of Borentruy. He then received the command of the army of the Lower Bhine, and opened the campaign by taking possession of Spire. He next took Worms, then the fortress of Mentz, and then Frankfort-on-the-Main, on which he laid heavy contributions. In 1793 he was denounced, and received his dis- missal, but the Convention afterwards invested him with the command of the N'orthern army. But he had hardly time to visit the posts. INlarat and Varennes were unceasing in their accusations against him, and the revolutionary tribunal soon afterwards condemned him to death. He was guillotined August 28, 1793. — Encyclopcedia Americana. DANTON", Georges Jacques, an advocate by profession, was born BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 469 at Arcissur-Arbe, October 20, 1759, and beheaded April 5, 1794. His external appearance was striking. His stature was colossal; his frame athletic ; his features harsh, large, and disagreeable ; his voice shook the Assembly; his eloquence was- vehement ; and his imagination as gigantic as his person, which made every one recoil, and at which, says St. Just, " Freedom herself trembled." He was one of the founders of the club of the Cordeliers. His importance increased in 1792, when he became one of the instigators of the events of June 20th, and a leader on August 10th. After the fall of- Louis XVI. Danton was made minister of justice, and usurped the appointments of officers in the army and departments. He thus raised up a great number of creatures wholly devoted to his views. Money flowed from all sides into his hands, and was profusely squandered on his partisans. His violent measures led to the September massacres. The invasion of Champagne by the Prussians spread con- sternation through Paris ; and Danton alone preserved his courage. He assumed the administration of the state ; prepared measures of defence ; called on all Frenchmen capable of bearing arms to march against the enemy; and prevented the removal of the Assembly beyond the Loire. From this time forward he was hated by Robespierre, who could never pardon the superiority which Danton had shown on this occasion. On the occasion of the Festival of Reason, in which the Hebertists acted a conspicuous part, Danton declared himself against the attack on the ministers of religion, and subsequently united with Robespierre to bring Hebert and his partisans to the scaffold. But their connection was not of long duration. Danton wished to overthrow the despotism of Robes- pierre, who, in his turn, was anxious to get rid of a dangerous rival. Danton was accordingly denounced to the committee of safety by St. Just, and imprisoned with his adherents in the Luxembourg. When he was transferred thence to the Conciergerie, he appeared deeply mortified at having been duped by Robespierre. On his trial, he said, composedly, " T am Danton, sufficiently well kno^^Ti in the Revolution ; I shall soon pass to nothingness ; but my name will live in the Pantheon of history." He was condemned to death by the revolutionary tribunal as an accom- plice in a conspiracy for the restoration of monarchy, and his large prop- erty was confiscated. He mounted the car with courage; his head was elevated, his look commanding and full of pride. On ascending the scaffold, he was for a moment softened. '' Oh, my wife, my dear wife, shall I never see you again ?" he said, but checked himself hastily, and exclaimed, " Courage, Danton! no weakness." He was thirty-five years old at the time of his death. — Encjjclopwdia Americana. During the short period that elapsed before his execution, Danton's mind, in a distracted state, reverted to the innocence of his earlier years. He spoke incessantly about trees, flowers, and the country. Then giving way to unavailing regret, he exclaimed, " It was just a year ago that I was the means of instituting the revolutionary tribunal ; may God and man forgive me for what I then did ; but it was not that it might become Vol. II.— M 470 BIOGRAPHICAL, SKETCHES. the scourge of humanity." When his sentence was read to him in his cell, " We are sacrificed," said Danton, " to a few dastardly brigands, but I drag Robespierre after me in my fall." — Alison. Danton was sometimes denominated the Mirabeau, sometimes the Alcibiades of the rabble. He may be said to have resembled both (mth the differences only of the patrician order and the populace) — in his tempestuous passions, popular eloquence, dissijDation, and debts, like the one ; his ambition, his daring and inventive genius, like the other. He exerted his faculties, and indulged his voluptuary indolence alternately and by starts. His conceptions were isolated, but complete in themselves, and of terrific efficacy as practical agents in revolutions. Danton's ambition was not personal. He would freely sacrifice himself for the republic or his party. He was inhuman, not so much from instinctive cruelty, as from a careless prodigality of blood. He viewed the Revolu- tion as a great game, in which men played for their lives. He took those he won as freely as he would have paid those he lost. — British and Foreign Review. I never saw any countenance tliat so strongly expressed the violence of brutal passions, and the most astonishing audacity, half-disguised by a jovial air, an affectation of frankness, and a sort of simplicity, as Danton's. In 1789 he was a needy lawyer, more burdened with debts than causes. He went to Belgium to augment his resources, and, after August 10, had the hardihood to avow a fortune of £158,333, and to wallow in luxury, while preaching sans-culottism, and sleeping on heaps of slaughtered men. — Madame Boland's Memoirs. DAVID, Jacques Louis, born at Paris in 1741, a celebrated painter, elector of Paris in 1792, was one of the warmest friends of Robespierre. He voted for the death of Louis XVI. He contrived the Mountain on which Robespierre gave a public festival in the Field of Mars. In 1794 he presided in the Convention. In 1800 the consuls made him the na- tional artist, when he painted for the Hospital of the Invalids a picture of General Bonaparte. In 1805 he was appointed to paint the scene of the Emperor's coronation. David was unquestionably the first French painter of the modern school ; and this consideration had some weight in obtaining his pardon in 1794, when he had been accused of being a Terrorist. A swelling which David had in his cheeks rendered his features hideous. — BiograpMe Moderne. DAVOUST, Louis T^icolas, was born at Annoux, May 10, 1770, of a noble family, and studied with Bonaparte in the military school of Brienne. He distinguished himself under Dumouriez, and in the year 1793 was made general. In the Italian campaigns under Napoleon, he zealously attached himself to the First Consul, whom he accompanied to Egypt. After the battle of Marengo, Davoust was made chief of the grenadiers of the consular guard. When Napoleon ascended the throne in 1804 he created Davoust marshal of the empire. In 1806 he created him Duke of Auerstadt, and after the peace of Tilsit, commander-in- DAXTON. BIOGEAPHICAL SKETCHES. 473 chief of the army of the Rhine. Having had an important share in the victories of Eckmuhl and Wagram, Davoust was created prince of the former place. He accompanied Napoleon to Kussia; and in 1813 was besieged in Hamburg, where he lost eleven thousand men, and was accused of great cruelty. On the Emperor's return to Paris, in 1815, he was appointed Minister of War. After the battle of Water- loo he submitted to Louis XVIII., and was subsequently employed by the court. Davoust died in the year 1823, leaving a son and two daugh- ters. — Encyclopcedia Americana. DESMOULINS, Camille, a lawyer, born at Guise, in Picardy, in 1762, was the son of the lieutenant-general of the bailiwick of Guise. His appearance was vulgar, his complexion swarthy, and his looks un- prepossessing. He made his first appearance at the bar to plead against his OMTi father, whom he wanted to make him a greater allowance than he could afford. At the very commencement of the Revolution he formed an intimate acquaintance with Robespierre. In July, 1789, he harangued a large mob in the Palais Royal with a brace of pistols in his hand, and assumed the appellation of attorney -general of the lamp-post. The same year he began his journal Les Revolutions de France et de Brabant, which exercised great influence on the mob of Paris. With Danton he joined the club of the Cordeliers in 1790. He married Lucille Duplessis, December 29, 1790. In 1792 he was ap- pointed secretary to Danton, and organized with him the September massacres. He asserted frequently that society consisted of two classes of men — gentlemen and sans-culottes ; and that, in order to save the republic, it was necessary to take the purses of the one, and put arms into the hands of the other. His connection with Danton was his ruin; and his sentence of death, the word " clemency," which he recommended in his journal of the " Old Cordelier." He was arrested in 1794, and during his imprisonment he gave himself up alternately to rage and despair. His favorite studies were the works of Young and Hervey. When led to execution, at the age of thirty-three, he made the most vio- lent efforts to avoid getting into the cart. His shirt was in tatters, and his shoulders bare ; his eyes glared, and he foamed at the mouth, crying out while he ascended the scaffold : " This, then, is the reward reserved for the first apostle of liberty! The monsters who assassinate me will not survive me long." His wife, whom he adored, and by whom he was as warmly beloved, beautiful, courageous, and sensible, begged to share his fate, and ten days afterwards Robespierre sent her to the scaf- fold, where she exhibited much more firmness than her husband. — Biographie Moderne. Camille Desmoulins had natural abilities, some education, but an ex- travagant imagination. He stammered in his speech, and yet he harangued the mob without appearing ridiculous, such was the influ- ence which the vehemence of his language had over it. He was fond of pleasure and of amusements of all kinds, and professed a sincere ad- 474 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCHES. miration of Robespierre, who then seemed to feel a friendship for him. — Memoirs of a Peer of France. This brilliant, but headstrong young man had followed every early movement of the Revolution, approving of all its measures and all its excesses. His heart, however, was kind and gentle, although his opin- ions had been violent, and his pleasantries often cruel. lie had ap- proved of the revolutionary government, because he had conceived it indispensable to lay the foundation of the republic ; he had co-operated in the ruin of the Gironde, because he feared the dissensions of the republic. The republic ! It was to this he had sacrificed even his scruples and liis sympathies, his justice and his humanity. He had given everything to his party, thinking he had given it to his country. In his " Old Cordelier " he spoke of liberty with the profound sense of Machiavelli ; and of men, with the wit of Voltaire. — Mignet. DROUET, Jean Baptiste, postmaster at St. Menehould, was born in 1763. It wa^ he who recognized the King in his flight, and caused him to be arrested at Varennes. In 1792 he was chosen member of the Convention and voted for the death of Louis. In the autumn of the following year he was sent to the army of the l^orth, was taken prisoner, and carried to Moravia. In 1795 he obtained his liberty, and entered the council of Five Hundred. Dissatisfied with the moderate system which then prevailed in France, he became, with Baboeuf, one of the leaders of the Jacobin conspiracy, on which account he was ar- rested, but made his escape into Switzerland. He Avas finally acquitted, and returned to France. During the Hundred Days he was a mem- ber of the chamber of deputies, but, in 1816, was banished from France as a regicide. — Encyclopwdia Americana. DUBOIS-CRANCE, Edmond Louis Alexis, born at Charleville in 1747, entered the King's musketeers, and became lieutenant of the marshals of France. In 1792 he was chosen deputy to the Convention, and on the King's trial, opposed the appeal to the people, and voted for his death. In the following year he was chosen president of the Con- vention, and entered into the committee of public safety. He contributed to the fall of the Girondins, and afterwards to that of Robespierre and the Terrorists. In 1799 the Directory raised him to the administration of the war department, in the place of Bernadotte. He died in 1805 at an estate to which he had retired. — Bioqrapliie Moderne. DUMONT, Andiie, deputy to the Convention, voted for the King's death without appeal. He persecuted the Girondins with the utmost severity. Being sent to the department of the Somme, he caused two hundred persons, sixty-four of whom were priests, to be thrown into the river. In 1794 he declared violently against Robespierre, and was afterwards president of the Convention, and member of the committee of public safety. In the December of 1794, he proposed that the pun- ishment of death should no longer be inflicted, except on royalists. In the year 1796 he was elected to the council of Five Hundred, and, after Df;sM(ur.ixs. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 477 the 18th Brumaire, was appointed sub-prefect of Abbeville. — Biogra- phie Modenie. DUMOUKIEZ, Charles Francois Duperier, was born at Cam- bray, January 25, 1739, and descended from a Provencal family en- gaged in the law. lie was fifty years of age at the commencement of the Revolution. Up to that time lie had lived amid intrigues, which he was but too fond of engaging in. The first part of his political life was spent in discovering those by whose help he might rise ; and the second, in discovering those who were able to support his elevation. A courtier before 1789; a Constitutional under the first Assembly; a Girondin under the second; and a Jacobin under the republic, he was eminently the creature of the time. But he had all the resources of great men; an enterprising disposition, indefatigable activity, and prompt, accurate, and extended views ; extraordinary impetuosity in action, and unbounded confidence in success. He was, besides, frank, ingenious, clever, bold, equally fitted for the council and the field ; full of expedients, and knowing how to submit to the misfortune of a difficult 'position until he could change it. It must be admitted, however, that these fine qualities were injured by several defects. Dumouriez was rash, thoughtless, and extremely capricious, in consequence of his con- tinual thirst for action. But his great fault was want of all political prin- ciple. He died at Turville Park, England, iMarch 14, 1823. — Mign&t DUSSAULX, Jean, born at Chartres, December 28, 1728, was the son of a lawyer. He served in the campaign of Hanover, under Mar- shal Richelieu, and gained the esteem of King Stanislaus. Returning to Paris, he brought out a translation of Juvenal, and in 177G was made a member of the Academy of Inscriptions. Becoming a member of the Convention, he voted for the King's detention and his banishment on a peace. In 1796 he was appointed president of the Council of Ancients. He died in 1799 after a long and afflicting illness. — Biogra- phie Modcrne. EDGEWORTH DE EIRMONT, Henry Essex, father -confessor of Louis XVI., was born in Ireland in 1745, in the village of Edgeworths- town. His father, an Episcopalian clergyman, adopted the Catholic faith with his family, and went to France. His piety and good conduct obtained him the confidence of the Princess Elizabeth, who chose him for her confessor, and made him knoA^m to Louis, who, after his condemna- tion, sent for him to attend him in his last moments. M. Edgeworth accompanied the King to the place of execution ; and, having succeeded in escaping from France, arrived in England in 1790. Pitt offered him a pension, which he declined. He soon after followed Louis XYIII. to Blankenburg, in Brunswick, and thence to Mittau. M. Edgeworth died, in 1807, of a contagious fever, caught in attending to some sick French emigrants. The Duchess d'Angouleme waited on him in his last moments: the royal family followed him to the tomb; and Louis XVIII. wrote his epitaph. — Encyclopedia Americana. 478 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCHES. ELIZABETH, Philippine Marie Helene^ Madame^ sister to Louis XVL, was born at Versailles in the year 1764, She was the young- est child of Louis, Dauphin of France, and Marie Josephine of Saxony. At the commencement of the Kevolution, Madame Elizabeth saw with terror the convocation of the States-General ; but when it was found to be inevitable, she devoted herself from that moment entirely to the w^elfare of her brother and the royal family. She was condemned to death in 1794, and ascended the scaftold wath twenty-four other vic- tims, not one of whom she knew. She was thirty years old at the time of her execution, and demeaned herself throughout with courage and resignation. — Biographie Moderne. FABKE-D'EGLAKTINE, Philippe Francois :Nazaire, born De- cember 28, 1755, was a native of Carcassone. He was known at the commencement of the Revolution by works which had little success, and since that time, by comedies not destitute of merit ; but, above all, by criminal conduct both as a public and a private man. Of low birth, he possessed a vanity which rendered him intolerable. He could not endure the nobility. While he was obliged to bend before it, he was content with abusing it, as he could do no more ; but when the course of events had placed him in a position to crush those he hated, he rushed on them with the rage of a tiger, and tore them to pieces with delight. I have heard him say, nearly like Caligula, that he wished the nobles had but one head, that he might strike it off at a single blow. In 1793, during the trial of Louis XVL, he was solicited to be favorable to that un- fortunate prince. " You will enjoy the pleasure of doing a good action," said the applicant. " I know a pleasure far superior to that," replied Fabre ; " it is the pleasure felt by a commoner in condemning a king to death." — Memoirs of a Peer of France. Fabre-d'Eglantine was an ardent promoter and panegyrist of the revolutionary system, and the friend, the companion, the adviser of the proconsuls, who carried throughout France, fire and sword, devastation- and death. I do not know whether his hands were stained by the lavish- ing of money not his own, but I know that he was a promoter of assassina- tions. Poor before September 2, 1792, he had afterwards a hotel and carriages and servants and women ; his friend Lacroix assisted him to procure this retinue. — Mercier. FAVRAS, Marquis be, formerly lieutenant of Monsieur's Swiss guards, was condemned by the Chatelet of Paris, on February 18, 1790, for having endeavored to excite a counter-revolutionary project, and for having intended to attempt the life of Lafayette, Bailly, and Necker, and to carry off the King and the royal family. He was born at Blois ; devoted himself from his earliest youth to the service, and went into the musketeers in 1755. In 1701 he obtained a company of dragoons in the regiment of Belsunce ; and served with distinction in the campaigns of 17fi2 and 1708, after which he was appointed adjutant. In 1772 he ac- quired the office of first lieutenant of Monsieur's Swiss, which conferred BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 4Y9 the rank of colonel. In 1786 he went to Vienna to get his wife legitima- tized, as only daughter of the Prince of Anhalt-Schaumberg. In 1787 he commanded a legion in Holland, at the time of the insurrection against the Stadtholder. In 1790 he was accused of having plotted, at Paris, against the Revolution ; of having wanted to introduce armed men into Paris by night, in order to destroy the three principal heads of the administration ; of attacking the King's guard ; of taking away the seals of the state ; and even of carrying off the King and his family to Veronne. He was summoned before the Chatelet, and repelled all the accusations brought against him ; but his denials did not prevent the judges from con- demning him. The announcement of his sentence did not shake his fortitude; he dictated his will with calmness, and paid great attention to the style of it. Favras was executed on February 11, 1790. — Biogra- phic Modcrne. FEEAUD, deputy to the Convention, voted for the death of Louis XVI. ; and when the commune of Paris desired that the Girondins should be tried, he proposed declaring that they had not forfeited the confidence of the Assembly. These sentiments would have involved him in their ruin, had he not been saved by a mission to the army of the Western Pyrenees, where he received a wound in charging at the head of the columns. Being returned again to the Convention, he became a partisan of Barras, and assisted him in turning the armed force against Robes- pierre and his faction. When the revolt happened in 1795, he showed more courage than any of the other depaties, in opposing the Terrorists at the moment wdien they forced the entrance of the hall ; but he became the victim of his valor, for after having been abused by the crowd, he received a pistol-shot in his breast, at the time when he was endeavoring to repulse several men who were making towards the president. His body was immediately seized and dragged into an adjoining passage, where his head was cut off, fixed on the top of a pike, and brought into the hall to the president, Boissy d'Anglas, to terrify him as well as the rest of the representatives. Feraud was born in the valley of the Daure, FOUCHE, Josicpir, born at Nantes, May 29, 1763, was intended for his father's profession — a sea captain; but, not being strong enough, at the foot of the Pyrenees. — Biogvaphie Modcrne. was sent to prosecute his studies at Paris. He then taught mathematics and metaphysics at Arras and elsewhere; and, at twenty-five years of age, was placed at the head of the college of Xantes. In 1792 he was chosen member of the Convention, where he voted for the King's death ; and was soon after sent with Collot-d'Herbois on a mission to Lyons. On the fall of Robespierre, Fouche, having been denounced as a Ter- rorist, withdrew into obscurity until 1798, when the Directory appoint- ed him French minister to the Cisalpine republic. In the following year he was made minister of police, and joined Bonaparte on his re- turn from Egypt, who continued him in his post, in order that he might detect Royalist and Jacobin conspiracies. In 1809, Fouche was in- 480 BIOGEAPHICAL SKETCHES. trusted with the portfolio of the Interior, as well as of the police, and created Duke of Otranto. In the ensuing year, having given umbrage to l^apoleon by entering into negotiations for peace with the Marquis Welleslev, he was sent into honorable exile as governor of Rome. He was soon recalled to France, and banished to Aix, where he lived a whole year retired. In 1813, he was again employed by Napoleon, was sent on a mission to Murat, and returned to Paris a few days after the declaration of the senate that the Emperor had lost his throne. During the first restoration Fouche lived partly retired ; but, on I^apo- leon's return from Elba, the King sent for him; he preferred, however, to join the Emperor, who a third time made him minister of police. After the battle of Waterloo, the French chamber placed Eouche at the head of a provisionary government, and he was afterwards rein- stated in the police by the King. He was soon, however, displaced; and, having been compromised in the law against regicides in 1816, retired to Trieste, where he died in 1820. Fouche's countenance was expressive of penetration and decision. He was of the middle size, rather thin, of firm health and strong nerves. The tones of his voice were somewhat hollow and harsh; in speech he was vehement and lively; in his appearance plain and simple. — Encyclopcedia Americana. Fouche is a miscreant of all colors, a priest, a Terrorist, and one who took an active part in many bloody scenes of the Revolution. He is a man, continued Bonaparte, who can worm all your secrets out of you with an air of calmness and unconcern. He is very rich, but his riches have been badly acquired. He never was my confidant. ISTever did he approach me without bending to the ground; but I never had esteem for him. I employed him merely as an instrument. — A Voice from St. Helena. Fouche never regarded a benefit in any otlier light than as a means of injuring his benefactor. He had opinions, but he belonged to no party, and his political success is explained by the readiness with which he always served the party he knew must triumph, and which he himself overthrew in its turn. It might be said that his ruling passion was the desire of continual change. N^o man was ever characterized by greater levity or inconstancy of mind. — Bourrienne. FOUQUIER-TINVILLE, Antoine Quentin, born at St. Quentin in 1Y47, the son of a farmer, was first an attorney at the Chatelet, but having dissipated his property, he lost his place, and became a bank- rupt. In 1793 he was appointed head juryman of the revolutionary tribunal, and caused the Queen to be condemned to death; but in the year 1795 was himself condemned and executed, for having caused the destruction of an innumerable multitude of French persons, under pretence of conspiracies; for having caused between sixty and eighty individuals to be tried in four hours; for having caused carts which were ready beforehand, to be loaded with victims whose very names were not mentioned, and against whom no depositions were made, and KOrQUIEU-TTXVILLE. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 483 for having constituted a jury of his own adherents. It would be impos- sible to detail all his atrocities, but a few instances will convey an idea of his character. At. de Gamache was brought into court, but the officer declared that he was not the person accused. " Never mind," said Fouquier, " bring him nevertheless." A moment after, the real Gamache appeared, and both were at once condemned and executed. Sixty or eighty unhappy wretches were often confounded in the same accusa- tion, though they had never seen one another, and when Fouquier w^ished to despatch them in the mass, he merely said to the jury, " I think, citizens, that you are convinced of the guilt of the accused." When this hint was thrown out, the jury would declare themselves sufficiently enlightened, and condemn all the accused in the gross, without hearing one of them. Fouquier-Tinville was accustomed to frequent a coffee- house in the Palace of Justice, where the judges and jurymen of his tribunal met. There they reckoned the number of heads which had fallen in the course of the decade. " ^^^lat do you think I have gained to-day for the republic ?" Some of the guests, to pay court to him, would answer, " So many millions," when he would immediately add, " In the next decade I shall undress three or four hundred," meaning, guillotine them. A considerable number of victims were one day met on their way home from the tribunal by Fouquier, who had not been present at their trial; he asked the jury on what crime they had been pronouncing sentence. They did not know, they said, but he might run after the condemned persons, and inquire, upon which they all burst into laughter. "Wlien he was himself led to execution, after the fall of Eobespierre, Fouquier-Tinville's forehead, hard as marble, defied all the eyes of the multitude ; he was even seen to smile and utter threaten- ing W'Ords. He trembled, however, as he ascended the scaffold, and seemed for the first time to feel remorse. He had a round head, black straight hair, a narrow and wan forehead, small round eyes, a full face marked with the small-pox, a look sometimes fixed, sometimes oblique, a middling stature, and thick legs. — Biographie Moderne. Fouquier-Tinville, who was excessively artful, quick in attributing guilt, and skilled in controverting facts, showed immovable presence of mind on his trial. While standing before the tribunal from which he had condemned so many victims, he kept constantly writing; but, like Argus, all eyes and ears, he lost not while he wrote, one single word uttered by the president, by an accused person, by a judge, by a wit- ness, or by a public accuser. He affected to sleep during the public accuser's recapitulation, as if to feign tranquillity, while he had hell in his heart. 'No eye but must involuntarily fall before his steadfast gaze; when he prepared to speak, he frowned; his brow was furrowed; his voice was rough, loud, and menacing; he carried audacity to the utmost in his denial ; and showed equal address in altering facts and rendering them independent of each other, and especially in judiciously placing his alibis. — Mercier. 484: BIOGKAPIIICAL SKETCHES. Fouquier-Tinville was the public accuser in the revolutionary tri- bunal, and his name soon became as terrible as that of Robespierre to all France. He was born in Picardj, and exhibited a combination of qualities so extraordinary that if it had not been established by undoubted testimony, it would have been deemed fabulous. Justice in his eyes consisted in condemning; an acquittal was the source of pro- found vexation ; he was never happy unless when he had secured the conviction of all the accused. He required no species of recreation; women, the pleasures of the table or of the theatre, were alike indiffer- ent to him. Sober and sparing in diet, he never indulged in excess, excepting when with the judges of the revolutionary tribunal, when he would at times give way to intemperance. His power of undergoing fatigue was unbounded. The sole recreation which he allowed himself was to behold his victims perish on the scaffold. He confessed that that object had great attractions for him. He might during the period of his power have amassed an immense fortune ; he remained to the last poor, and his wife is said to have died of famine. His lodgings were destitute of every comfort; their whole furniture, after his death, did not sell for twenty pounds. ISTo seduction could influence him. He was literally a bar of iron against all the ordinary desires of men. Nothing roused his mind but the prospect of inflicting death, and then his anima- tion v/as such that his countenance became radiant and expressive. — Alison. FKERON, Louis Stanislas, born at Paris in 1757, was son of the journalist Freron, the antagonist of Voltaire and of the philosophic sect. Brought up at the college Louis-le-Grand with Robespierre, he becaine in the Revolution his friend, his emulator, and, at last, his de- nouncer. In 1789 he began to edit the Orator of the People, and became the coadjutor of Marat. Being sent with Barras on a mission to the South, he displayed extreme cruelty and activity. On their arrival at ^larseilles, in 1793, they published a proclamation announcing that Terror was the order of the day, and that to save Marseilles, and to raze Toulon, were the aims of their labors. " Things go on well here," v/rote Freron to Moses Bayle ; '' we have required twelve thousand masons to raze the town ; every day since our arrival we have caused two hundred heads to fall, and already eight hundred Toulonese have been shot. All the great measures have been neglected at Marseilles ; if they had only shot eight hundred conspirators, as has been done here, and had appointed a committee to condemn the rest, we should not have been in the condition we now are." It was at first intended to put to death all who had accepted any office, or borne arms, in the town during the siege. Freron consequently signified to them that they must all go, under pain of death, to the Champ de Mars. The Toulon- ese, thinking to obtain pardon by their submission, obeyed, and eight thousand persons were assembled at the appointed place. All the rep- resentatives (Barras, Salicetti, Ricord, Robespierre the younger, etc.) BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCILES. 485 were shocked at the siglit of this multitude; Freron himself, surrounded by a formidable train, saw these numerous victims with terror; at last, by the advice of Barras, a jury was appointed, and a great number of the most guilty instantly shot. The shooting with muskets being in- sufFjcient, they" had afterwards recourse to the mitraillade; and it was in another execution of this nature that Freron, in order to despatch the victims who had not perished by the first discharge, cried out, " Let those who are still living, rise; the republic pardons them." Sonie un- hai)py creatures trusting to this promise, he caused them to be imme- diately fired upon. On quitting Toulon, Freron went with his coadjutors to finish the depopulation of Marseilles, which they declared a coni- inune without a name, and where they destroyed more than 400 indi- viduals, by means of a criminal tribunal, and afterwards of a military committee. At the same time they caused the finest edifices of the city to be destroyed. Eeturning from his proconsnlship, Freron soon be- came an object of suspicion to Kobespierre, whom he attacked in return, and contributed greatly to his ruin. From this period he showed him- self the enemy of the Terrorists, and pursued them with a fury worthy of a former companion. Tie proposed in the Convention that death should no longer be inflicted for revolutionary crimes, except for emi- gration, promotion of the royal cause, and military treason, and that transportation should be substituted instead. At the time of the expe- dition to St. Domingo in 1802, Freron was appointed prefect of the South, and went with General Leclerc ; but he sank under the influence of the climate, after an illness of six days. — Biorjraphie Moderne. GARAT, Dominique Joseph, the younger, born at Bayonne, Septem- ber 8, 1749, was a man of letters, a member of the institute, and pro- fessor of history in the Lyceum of Paris. In 1792 he was appointed minister of justice, and commissioned to inform Louis of his con- demnation. In the following year he became ministei of the interior. Garat survived all the perils of the Revolution, and, in 1806, he pro- nounced in the senate one of the most eloquent speeches that were ever made on the victories of the Emperor Napoleon. Garat published sev- eral works on the Revolution. lie died December 9, -[S^iS.— Biographic Moderne. GOBEL, J. B., Bishop of Lydda, suffragan of the Bishop of Bale, and deputy to the States-Oonornl, embraced the popular party, and be- came odious and often ridiculous during the Revolution. Though born Avith some abilities, his age and his weak eharacter made him the mere tool of the conspirators. In 1791 he was appointed constitutional Bishop of Paris, and was the consecrator of the new bishops. Being admitted into the Jacobin club, he distinguished himself by his vio- lent motions, and was one of the first to assume the dress of a sans- culotte. IFe did not even fear, at the age of seventy, to declare at the bar of the Convention, that the religion wliidi ho had professed from his youth was founded on error and falsehood, lie was one of the first 486 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. who sacrificed to the goddess of Reason, and lent his church for this absurd festival. This farce soon became the pretext for his ruin. He Avas arrested as an accomplice of the faction of the atheists, and con- demned to death in 1794. Gobel was born at Hanne, in the department of the Upper Rhine. During his confinement, he devoted himself again to his former religious exercises ; and, on his road to the scaffold, earnest- ly recited the praj'ers of the dying. — Biographie Moderne. Terrified by a night-scene, which David, Clootz, and Peraud, ex-mem- ber for the department, and a professed atheist, had played off in his apartment, Gobel went to the Assembly at the head of his staff — that is to say, of his grand vicars — to abjure the Catholic worship. Gobel at heart was certainly nothing less than a freethinker. — Prudhomme. GROUCHY, Emanuel, Count de, born at Paris, October 23, 1769, entered the army at the age of fourteen. On the breaking out of the Revolution, he showed his attachment to liberal principles, and served in the campaign of 1792 as commander of a regiment of dragoons. He was afterwards sent to La Vendee, where he distinguished himself on several occasions. In 1797 he was appointed second in command of the army destined for the invasion of Ireland, but was compelled to return to France without effecting anything. In 1799 he contributed to Mo- reau's victories in Germany, and the battle of Hohenlinden was gained chiefly by his skill and courage. During the campaign in Russia, Grouchy commanded one of the three cavalry corps of the grand army; and was rewarded with the marshal's baton for his brilliant services in the campaign of 1814. After the restoration, he joined N^apoleon on his return from Elba, and was accused by him of being the author of the defeat at Waterloo, by permitting two divisions of the Prussian army under Bliicher to join the English forces. Grouchy was afterwards ordered to be arrested by the ordinance of 1815, in consequence of which he retired to the United States, where he remained until he received per- mission to return to France. He died May 29, 1847. — Encyclopcedia Americana. GUADET, Marguerite Elie, born at St. Emilion in 1758, a lawyer, president of the criminal tribunal of the Gironde, was deputed by that department to the legislature, and was looked up to by the Girondists as one of their leaders. He voted for the death of Louis, but for de- laying his execution. Involved in the fall of his party, he was executed at Bordeaux,. July 17, 1794, in the thirty-fifth year of his age. Wlien he was led to the scaffold, he wanted to harangue the people, but the roll of the drums drowned his voice, and nothing could be heard but the words, " People, behold the sole resource of tyrants ! They drown the voices of free men that they may commit their crimes." — Biographie Moderne. Guadet found a place of safety for some of his Girondin friends in the house of one of his female relations, whose name was Bouquet. The news of this unexpected relief being carried to three companions of BIOGKAPIIICAL SKETCHES. 487 those proscribed deputies, they determined to beg this courageous woman to permit them to share the retreat of their friends. She consented, and they reached her house at midnight, wliere tliey found their companions lodged thirty feet under ground, in a large, well-concealed vault. A few days after, Buzot and Petion informed Guadet by letter, that, having within fifteen days changed their place of retreat seven times, they were now reduced to the greatest distress. '*' Let them come too," said Madame Bouquet, and they came accordingly. The difficulty to provide for them all was now great, for provisions were extremely scarce in the department. ^Madame Bouquet's house was allowed by the munici- pality only one pound of bread daily; but, fortunately, she had a stock of potatoes and dried kidney-beans. Madame Bouquet concealed as long as she could from her guests the uneasiness which consumed her, occasioned by one of her relations, formerly the friend of Guadet. This man, having learned what passed in Madame Bouquet's house, put in action every means his mind could suggest to induce her to banish the fugitives. Every day he came to her with stories more terrible one than the other. At length, fearing that he would take some desper- ate measure, she was compelled to lay her situation before her guests, who, resolved not to be outdone in generosity, instantly quitted her house. Shortly after, Madame Bouquet and the whole family of Guadet were arrested, and perished on the scaffold. — Anecdotes of the Revolution. HEBERT, Jacques Rene, born at Alen§on about 1755, was naturally of an active disposition and an ardent imagination, but wholly without information. Before the Revolution, he lived in Paris by intrigue and imposture. Being employed at the theatre of the Varietes as receiver of the checks, he was dismissed for dishonesty, and retired to the house of a physician whom he robbed. In 1789, he embraced with ardor the popular party, and soon made himself known by a journal entitled " Father Duchesne," which had the greatest success among the people on account of the violence of its ju-inciples. On August 10th, Ilebert be- came one of the members of the insurrectional municipality, and after- wards, in September, contributed to the prison massacres. He was one of the first to preach atlieism, and organize the Festivals of Reason. His popularity, however, was brief, for he was brought to the scaffold, to- gether with his whole faction, by Robespierre, ^Tareh 24, 1704. He died with the greatest marks of weakness, and fainted several times on his road to execution. On all sides he heard, " Father Duchesne is very uneasy, and will be very angry when Samson (the executioner) makes him tipsy." A young man, whose entire family he had destroyed, called out to him, " To-day is the great anger of Father Duchesne!" On the occasion of the Queen's trial, Hebert cast an imputation on her, of so atrocious and extravagant a nature, that even Robespierre was disgusted with it, and exclaimed, " ]\radman ! Avas it not enough for him to have asserted that she was a Messalina, without also making an Agrippina of 488 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCHES. her ?" Hebert married a nun, who was guillotined with Chaumette and the rest of the faction of the commune. — Biographie Modeme. HEXRIOT, Francois^ born at Nanterre in 1761, was the offspring of parents who were poor, but maintained an irreproachable character, residing in Paris. In his youth he was footman to a counsellor of parlia- ment. Pie made no conspicuous figure in the early period of the Revolu- tion, but rose by degrees to be commandant of his section, and distin- guished himself by his cruelty in the September massacres. At the time of the contest between the Mountain and the Girondins, Henriot, to serve the purposes of his party, was raised to the command of the national guard. When the fall of Robespierre was in agitation, he also was denounced, and, after in vain endeavoring to enlist the soldiers in his cause, he took refuge with the rest of the faction at the Hotel de Ville. The danger of their situation enraged Cofinhal to such a degree, that he threw Henriot out of a window into the street, who, dreadfully bruised by his fall, crept into a common sewer, where he was discovered by some soldiers, who struck him with their bayonets, and thrust out one of his eyes, which hung by the ligaments down his cheek. He was exe- cuted the same day with Robespierre and the rest of his associates. He went to the scaffold with no other dress than his under-waistcoat, all over filth from the sewer, and blood from his own wounds. As he was about to ascend the scaffold a bystander snatched out the eye which had been displaced from its socket! Henriot suffered at the age of thirty- five. — Adolphus. Henriot was clerk of the Barriers, but was driven thence for theft. He was then received by the police into the number of its spies, and was again sent to the Bicetre, which he quitted only to be flogged and branded ; at last, passing over the piled corpses of September, where he drank of Madame de Lamballe's blood, he made himself a way to the generalship of June 2d, and finally to the scaffold. — Prudhomme. HERAULT DE SECHELLES, Marie Jean, born at Paris in 1760, began his career at the bar by holding the office of the King's advocate at the Chatelet. In the house of Madame de Polignac, where he visited, he met the Queen, who, delighted with his conversation, promised to be- friend him. Having eagerly embraced revolutionary notions, he was appointed commissioner of government to the tribunal of cassation, and was afterwards deputed to the original legislature, as also to the Con- vention, on becoming a member of which, he joined the revolutionary part of that body with uncommon ardor. Herault was absent from Paris during the King's trial, but wrote a letter to the Convention declaring that he deserved death. In the contest that afterwards took place be- tween the Mountain and the Gironde, Herault figured in the Convention among the most conspicuous and zealous supporters of the former faction. Having made himself obnoxious to Robespierre, he was sentenced to death, April 5, 1794. He then gave himself up for a time to gloomy re- flections, walked for above two hours with the other captives in the BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 491 prison, while waiting the moment of execution, and took leave of them with great tranquillity. Herault enjoyed a very considerable fortune ; his figure was elegant, his countenance pleasing, and his dress studied, which, during the reign of sans-culuttism, drew on him many sarcasms from his colleagues. In the midst of the blood and tears which drenched France in 1793, he still found leisure for gallantry and poetry, which made no slight impression on the young and beautiful wife of Camille- Desmoulins. — Blogniphie Modcrne. Herault de Sechelles was the legislator of the Mountain, as Condorcet had been of the Gironde. With the ideas whicli prevailed at this period, the nature of the ncAV constitution may be easily conceived. It estab- lished the pure government of the multitude; not only were the people acknowledged to be the source of all power, but the exercise of that power was delegated to them. As the constitution thus made over the government to the multitude, as it placed the power in a disorganized body, it would have been at all times impracticable; but, at a period of general warfare, it was peculiarly so. Accordingly, it was no sooner made than suspended. — Mignet. HOCITE, Lazare^ general in the French revolutionary war, was born February 24, 1764, at Montreuil, near Versailles, where his father was keeper of the King's hounds. He entered the army in his sixteenth year. At the beginning of the Kevolution he joined the popular party, and studied military science Math great diligence. lie was not twenty-four years old when he received the command of the army of the Moselle. He defeated "Wurmser, and drove the xVustrians out of Alsace. His frank- ness displeased St. Just, who deprived him of his command, and sent him a prisoner to Paris. The revolution of the 9th Thermidor saved him from the guillotine. In 1795 Hoche was employed against the royalists in the West, where he displayed great ability and humanity. He was the chief pacificator of La Vendee. He afterwards sailed for Ireland, but his scheme of exciting a disturbance there failed. On his return he received the command of the army of the Sambre and Meuse, in which capacity he was frequently victorious over the enemy. Hoche died suddenly, September IS, 1797, at Wetzlar, it was supposed at the time of poison. — Encyclopcedia Americana. The death of Hoche may be regarded as an event in our Revolution. With his military talent he combined extensive abilities of various kinds ; and was a citizen as well as a soldier. When his death was made known, the public voice rose in an accusing outcry against the Directory. I am satisfied that Hoche was the constant object of the hatred of a party, then unfortunately powerful, though acting in the shade. I entertain a firm conviction also that he died by assassination. — Duchess d'Ahrantes. Hoche, said Bonaparte, was one of the first generals that ever France produced. He was brave, intelligent, abounding in talent, decisive, and penetrating. If he had landed in Ireland he would have succeeded. 492 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. He was accustomed to civil war, had pacified La Vendee and was well adapted for Ireland. He had a fine, handsome figure, a good address, and was prepossessing and intriguing. — A Voice from St. Helena. Young Hoclie was every way qualified for the important but difficult duty with which he was charged — the pacification of La Vendee. En- dowed by nature with a clear judgment, an intrepid character, and an unconquerable resolution, firm, sagacious, and humane, he was eminently fitted for that mixture of gentleness and resolution which is necessary to heal the wounds and subdue the passions of civil war. This rare combination of civil and military qualities might have rendered him a formidable rival of Napoleon, and possibly endangered the public peace, had he not united to these shining parts a patriotic heart and a love of liberty, which rendered him superior to all temptation ; and more likely, had he lived, to have followed the example of Washington, than the foot- steps of Ca?sar or Cromwell. — Alison. It is a curious subject for speculation what might have been the result, had Hoche succeeded in landing with 16,000 of his best troops on the Irish shores. To those who consider indeed the patriotic spirit, in- domitable valor, and persevering character of the English people, and the complete command they had of the sea, the final issue of such a con- quest cannot appear doubtful ; but it is equally evident that the addition of such a force and so able a commander to the numerous bodies of Irish malcontents would have engendered a dreadful domestic war, and that the whole energies of the Empire might for a very long period have been employed in saving itself from dismemberment. — Alison. ISNARD, M., a wholesale perfumer at Draguignan, was deputed from Var to the legislature, and afterwards to the Convention. His father, who was rich, had taken great pains with his education. In 1793 he voted for the King's death, observing, that " were the lightnings of heaven in his hands, he would blast with them all those who should attack the sovereignty of the people." Isnard was outlawed as a Girondin, on the fall of that party, but succeeded in making his escape, and, after the overthrow of the Mountaineers, resumed his seat in the Convention. Being then sent to the department of the Benches du Rhone, he there declaimed vehemently against the Terrorists, who afterwards accused him of having encouraged the bloody reprisals made on them in the South, and of having addressed the people as follows: "If you meet any Terrorists, strike them, if you have not arms, you have sticks, if you have not sticks, dig up your parents, and with their bones knock down the monsters!" In 1796, Isnard became a member of the council of Five Hundred. — Biographie Moderne. JOUBERT, Bartiielemy Catherine, born at Pont-de-Vaux, April 14, 1767, had studied for the bar, but at the Revolution he was induced to adopt the profession of arms. He was tall, thin, and naturally of a weak constitution, but he had strengthened his frame amid fatigues, camps, and mountain warfare. He was intrepid, vigilant, and active. BIOGEAPHICAL SKETCHES. 493 In 1796 he was made a general of division. He was much attached to Napoleon. He fell gloriously at the battle of Novi, August 1 5, 1799. — Ilazlitt. JOURDAN, Jean Baptiste, born April 2, 1762, at Limoges, where his father practised as a surgeoD, entered the army in 1778, and fought in America. After the peace he employed himself in commerce. In 1793 lie was appointed general of division, and, in the battle of Hondt- schoote, mounted the enemy's works at the head of his troops, and after- wards received the command of the army in the place of Houchard. In 1794 he gained the victory of the Fleurus, by which he became mas- ter of Belgium, and drove the allies behind the Rhine. In 1796 he undertook the celebrated invasion of the right bank of the Rhine, in wbiVli he conquered Franconia, and pressed forward towards Bohemia and Ratisbon. The Archduke Charles, however, defeated him, and his retreat became a disorderly flight, whereupon Beurnonville took the command, and Jourdan retired to Limoges as a private individual. In 1797 he was chosen a member of the council of Five Hundred, and was twice their president, remaining a stanch friend to the republic. After the revolution of the ISth Brumaire, which he opposed, he received the command of Piedmont. In the year 1803 Napoleon named him gen- eral-in-chief of the army of Italy, and, in the following year, marshal of France, and grand cross of the Legion of Honor. In 1808 he went with King Joseph, as major-general, to Spain, and, after the decisive battle of Vittoria, lived in retirement at Rouen. In 1815 he took the oath of allegiance to Louis, and when the latter left France, retired to his seat. Napoleon then made him a peer, and intrusted him with the defence of Besancon. After the return of Louis, Jourdan was one of the first to declare for him; and in 1819 the King raised him to the peerage. Jourdan belonged to the party of liberal constitutionalists. — Encyclo'pccdia Americana. JOURDAN, Matthieu Jouve, entitled the " Beheader," was bom at St. Just in 1749. He was successively a butcher, a blacksmith's journey- man, a smuggler, a servant, general of the army of Vaucluse in 1791, and finally leader of a squadron of national gendarmerie. In the massacres of Versailles he cut off the heads of two of the King's body- guards. Pie boasted also of having torn out the hearts of Foulon and Bertier, and called on the National Assembly to reward him for this deed with a civic medal ! He was also one of the chief instigators of the massacres of Avignon. In 1794 he was condemned to death as a federal- ist and guillotined [May 27, 1794. Jourdan was remarkable for wearing a long beard, which was often besprinkled with blood. — Biographie Moderns. JUNOT, Andoche, was born of humble parents, October 24, 1771. At a very early period he enlisted in the array ; but of his military ex- ploits nothing is known until the siege of Toulon, when he was a sim- ple grenadier. Here he was fortunate enough to attract the notice of Vol. II.— N 494 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. the young commandant of the artillery. During a heavy cannonade, Bonaparte, having occasion to dictate a despatch, inquired if any one near him could write. Junot stepped out of the ranks, and, while pen- ning the despatch, a shot struck the ground close by his side, and cov- ered both with dust. " This is fortunate, sir," observed the grenadier, laughing, " I was in want of sand." " You are a brave fellow," said ITapoleon ; " how can I serve you ?" '" Give me promotion ; I will not disgrace it." He was immediately made a sergeant ; not long afterwards he ol^tained a commission; and, in 1796, was nominated aide-de-camp to his benefactor. In the campaign of Italy, Junot exhibited daring courage, and, it is said, great rapacity. In Egypt he served with dis- tinction as general of brigade, and soon after his return was placed over a division. He entered Portugal at the head of a powerful army in 1807, levied oppressive contributions, punished all who ventured to speak against his measures, and allayed partial revolts by bloody exe- cutions. About this time he was created Duke d'x\brantes, but being soon defeated by Sir Arthur Wellesley at the battle of Vimeria, he was compelled to evacuate Portugal, and remained until 1812 in complete disgrace. In the Russian campaign he headed a division. He died at his father's house, July 28, 1813. — Court and Camp of Bonaparte. Of the considerable fortunes which the Emperor had bestowed, that of Junot, he said, was one of the most extravagant. The sums he had given him almost exceeded belief, and yet he was always in debt; he had squandered treasures without credit to himself, without discern- ment or taste, and too frequently, the Emperor added, in gross de- bauchery. The frequent incoherences which had been observed in Junot's behavior, towards the close of his life, arose from the excesses in which he had indulged, and broke out at last into complete insanity. They were obliged to convey him to his father's house, where he died miserably, having mutilated his person with his own hands. — Las Cases. KELLERMAlS'lSr, Francois Christophe, born at Strasburg, May 30, 1735, a French general, began life as a private hussar, but was soon promoted for his skill and good conduct. In 1792 he obtained the command of the army of the Moselle, and distinguished himself at the battle of Valmy. In 1794 he was brought before the revolutionary tri- bunal, but acquitted. In 1799 he became a member of the consular senate; in 1802 he obtained the title of grand officer of the Legion of Honor; and, soon afterwards, Avas raised to the rank of marshal of the Empire. He was father of the celebrated Kellermann, whose glori- ous charge decided the battle of Marengo. He died September 12, 1820. — Biographie Modcrne. The following are the terms in which l^apoleon addressed Carnot on one occasion : " Kellermann would command the army as well as I ; for no one is more convinced than I am of the courage and audacity of the soldiers; but to unite us together would ruin everything. I will BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 4^5 not serve with a man wlii» considers himself the first general in Europe; and it is better to have one bad general than two good ones. War is, like government, decided in a great degree by tact." KLE13ER, Jea.n Bai'tiste, distinguislied not less for his humanity and integrity, than for his courage, activity, and coolness, was one of llie ablest soldiers whom the Revolution produced. His father was a c'ummon laborer, and he himself was occupied as an architect when the troubles in France broke out. lie was born at Strasburg in 1754, and had received some military education in the academy of ^lunich. Hav- ing entered a French volunteer corps as a grenadier in 1792, his talents soon procured him notice, and after the capture of Mayence, he was made general of brigade. Although he openly expressed his horror of the atrocious policy of the revolutionary government, yet his services were too valuable to be lost, and he distinguished himself as a general of division in 179.5 and 179G. In 1797, dissatisfied with the Directory, Kleber retired from the service, but Bonaparte prevailed on him to join the expedition to Egypt, and left him the supreme command when he himself returned to France. Though his position was a difficult one, yet he maintained it successfully, and was making preparations for se- curing the possession of the country, when he was assassinated by a Turkish fanatic in the year 1800. — Encyclopccdia Americana. Of all the generals I ever had under me, said Bonaparte, Desaix and Kleber possessed the greatest talents ; but Kleber only loved glory in- asmuch as it was the means of procuring him riches and pleasures. He M'as an irreparable loss to France. — A Voice from St. Helena. LAFAYETTE, ^{xmn Paul Jean Roch Yves Gilbert Motier, Marquis de, was born in Auvergne (Chavagnac), September, 1757, of one of the most ancient families of that province. He married the grand- daughter of the Duke of Noailles in 1774. He was employed, when still young, in the American army under Washington, which won the independence of the English colonics of North America. He served as a major-general, 1777-83, without pay, was wounded at the battle of the Brandywine, and fought with honor at Ifonmouth, and conducted the campaign in Virginia which ended in the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown. He returned to France full of ideas of liberty. Being ap- pointed by the noblesse of his province, deputy to the States-General, he voted that the examination of the powers should take place in common. After the union of the three orders, he insisted, with Mirabeau, on the removal of the troops whom the court was marching towards Paris. Being appointed vice-president, he presented his well-known declaration of rights. In July, 1789, he was appointed commander of the Parisian national guard. A few days after the famous October 5th, Lafayette, in a conference very imperious on the one side, and very timid on the other, gave the Duke of Orleans to understand that his name was the pretext for all commotions, and that he must leave the kingdom; an apparent mission was given to this prince, and he set out for England. 496 BIOGRAPHICAL, SKETCHES. In February, 1790, Lafayette, in the Assembly, solicited measures for repressing the disturbers of the provinces, and indemnifying the pro- prietors of burned houses ; these excesses he attributed to the counter- revolutionary spirit. He afterwards voted for the suppression of titles of honor and nobility, refusing even to admit of an exception in favor of the princes. At the Federation in July, he presented the national guards, who were collected from every part of the kingdom, to the As- sembly and the King. At the time of Louis's flight, he was accused by the Jacobins of having assisted in it, and by the Royalists of having contrived the arrest of his sovereign. When the King's fate was debated in the Assembly, Lafayette was among those who objected to the motion for bringing him to trial, and declaring him deposed. When the Con- stitution was accepted, Lafayette voted for the amnesty demanded by the King, and resigned his office of commander of the guard, upon which the municipality ordered a gold medal to be struck in his honor. In 1792 Lafayette went to Metz, Avhere he took the command of the central army. At first he encamped under the walls of Givet, but his advanced guard, posted near Philippsburg, met with a slight check, upon which he removed to the intrenched camp at Maubeige, and placed his advanced guard at Grisnelles, under the command of Gouvion, where it was sur- prised and cut to pieces, and its leader killed by a cannon-ball. Shortly afterwards Lafayette's army received accounts of the attempt made on June 20th, and, in different addresses, declared its disapprobation of the outrage offered on that day to Louis. Proud of such support, Lafayette went to Paris, and appeared at the bar of the legislative body, where he complained of these outrages, and accused the Jacobins. For one moment the Assembly seemed intimidated by this step, but the fac- tion soon took courage: and Lafayette returned to his army, after hav- ing in vain urged Louis to leave Paris, and come among his troops, who were then faithful. Soon after, commissions having been sent from Paris to insist on his removal from his command, he addressed his troops in a proclamation, in which he called on them to choose between the Constitution and Petion for a king. The whole army exclaimed, " Long live the King !" " Long live the Constitution !" but Lafayette, placing little dependence on this burst of enthusiasm, fled with several officers of his staff. He was then declared an emigrant. On his arrival at the Austrian advanced posts he was made prisoner. He was after- wards delivered up to the King of Prussia, who caused him to be re- moved to Magdeburg, where he remained a year in a dungeon; but when Prussia made peace with France, he was restored to the Austrians, who sent him to Olmutz. After a rigorous imprisonment of three years and five months, he obtained his liberty at the request of Bonaparte. He then withdrew to Hamburg, and after the 1 8th Brumaire, returned to France. From this period Lafayette remained in comparative retirement till the breaking out of the second Revolution, in 1830, when he was again appointed commander of the national guards, which, however, he re- I.AKAYKTTi:. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 499 signed, shortly after the accession of Louis-Philippe to the throne. He died in the year 1834, at the age of 76. — Biographie Moderne. Lafayette was under the necessity of observing the greatest secrecy in his departure, in order to avoid increasing the number of his com- panions in exile, who consisted only of Latour-Maubourg and his two brothers. Bureaux de Puzy, his aides-de-camp, and staff ofiicers in the Parisian national guard, and some friends, exposed to certain death in consequence of their participation in his last efforts against anarchy. Fifteen officers of different ranks accompanied him. On arriving at Rochefort, where the party (considerably reduced in number) were stopped, Bureaux de Puzy was compelled to go forward and obtain a pass from General Moitelle, in command at Namur. He set out ac- cordingly, but, before he could utter a syllable of explanation, that general exclaimed, '* What, Lafayette ? Lafayette ? — Bun instantly and inform the Duke of Bourbon of it — Lafayette? — Set out this moment," addressing one of his officers, " and carry this news to his royal highness at Brussels," and on he went, muttering to himself the word " Lafayette." It was not until he had given orders to write to all the princes and generals he could think of, that Puzy could put in his request for a pass, which was of course refused. — Lafayette's Memoirs. However irritated they might be by Lafayette's behavior at the outset of the Revolution, the present conduct of the monarchs towards him was neither to be vindicated by morality, the law of nations, nor the rules of sound policy. Even if he had been amenable for a crime against his own country, we know not what right Austria or Prussia had to take cogni- zance of it. To them he was a mere prisoner of war, and nothing further. It is very seldom that a petty, vindictive line of policy accords with the real interest, either of great princes or of private individuals. — Scott's Life of Napoleon. LAMBALLE, Marie Tiiekese Louise de Savoie Carignan, widow of Louis Alexander Joseph Stanislas de Bourbon Penthiere, Prince de Lamballe, was born at Turin, September 8, 1749, and was mistress of the household to the Queen of France, to whom she was united by bonds of the tenderest affection. — Bior/raphie Moderne. The Princess de Lamballe, having been spared on the night of Sep- tember 2, 1792, flung herself on her bed, oppressed with every species of anxiety and horror. She closed her eyes, but only to open them in an instant, startled with frightful dreams. About eight o'clock next morning, two national guards entered her room, to inform her that she was going to be removed to the Abbaye. She slipped on her gown, and went down-stairs into the sessions-room. When she entered this frightful court, the sight of weapons stained with blood, and of exe- cutioners whose hands, faces, and clothes were smeared over with the same red dve, gave her such a shock that she fainted several times. At length she was subjected to a mock examination, after which, just as she was stepping across the threshold of the door, she received on the 500 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. back of her head a blow with a hanger, which made the blood spout. Two men then laid fast hold of her, and obliged her to walk over dead bodies, while she was fainting every instant. They then completed her murder by running her through with their spears on a heap of corpses. She was afterwards stripped, and her naked body exposed to the insults of the populace. In this state it remained more than two hours. When any blood gushing from its wounds stained the skin, some men, placed there for the purpose, immediately washed it off, to make the spectators take more particular notice of its whiteness. I must not venture to de- scribe the excesses of barbarity and lustful indecency with which this corpse was defiled. I shall only say that a cannon was charged with one of the legs ! Towards noon, the murderers determined to cut off her head, and carry it in triumph round Paris. Her other scattered limbs were also given to troops of cannibals who trailed them along the streets. The pike that supported the head was planted under the very windows of the Duke of Orleans. He was sitting down to dinner at the time, but rose from his chair, and gazed at the ghastly spectacle without discovering the least symptom of uneasiness, terror, or satisfaction. — Peltier. One day when my brother came to pay us a visit, he perceived, as he came along, groups of people whose sanguinary drunkenness was hor- rible. Many were naked to the waist, and their arms and breasts were covered with blood. Their countenances were inflamed, and their eyes haggard; in short, they looked hideous. My brother, in his uneasiness about us, determined to come to us at all risks, and drove rapidly along the Boulevard, until he arrived opposite the house of Beaumarchais. There he was stopped by an immense mob, composed also of half-naked people, besmeared with blood, and who had the appearance of demons. They vociferated, sang, and danced. It was the Saturnalia of Hell! On perceiving Albert's cabriolet, they cried out, " Let it be taken to him ; he is an aristocrat." In a moment, the cabriolet was surrounded by the multitude, and from the middle of the crowd an object seemed to arise and approach. My brother's troubled sight did not at first enable him to perceive long auburn tresses clotted with blood, and a countenance still lovely. The object came nearer and nearer, and rested upon his face. My unhappy brother uttered a piercing cry. He had recognized the head of the Princess de Lamballe ! — Duchess d'Ahrantes. LANJUIT^AIS, Jean Denis, born at Kennes, March 12, 1753, an advocate and professor of civil law, was one of the original founders of the Breton club, which afterwards became the Jacobin society. In 1792 he was deputed to the Convention; but, in proportion to the in- creasing horrors of the Pevolution, he became more moderate in his principles. On the King's trial, he declared that his majesty was guilty, and voted for his imprisonment, and his exile when a peace should take place. In 1794 the Convention outlawed him, but, having evaded all research, he solicited to be reinstated in the legislative body, and BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 501 was recalled in 1795. In the year 1800, Lanjuinais became a member of the conservative senate, and showed himself, on several occasions, the inflexible defender of the true principles of morality and justice. He died at Paris, January 13, 1827. — Biographie Modeme. LAX!XP\S, Jean, Avho for his impetuous valor was called the Rolando and the Ajax of the French camp, was born in 17G9. His parents were poor, and intended him for some mechanical pursuit, but he was resolved to be a soldier. One of the first actions in which he was en- gaged was tliat of Millesimo, where he distinguished himself so highly that he was made a colonel on the field. At the bridge of Lodi he ex- hibited equal intrepidity. He had taken one ensign, and was about to seize a second from the Austrians, when his horse fell under him, and twelve cuirassiers raised their sabres to cut him down. Lannes in- stantly sprang on the horse of an Austrian officer, killed the rider, and fought his way through the cuirassiers, killing two or three and wound- ing more. Soon afterwards he was made general of division. In the Eg^'ptian expedition he was always foremost in danger. He returned to France with iSTapoleon, whom he assisted to overthrow the Directory. He accompanied the First Consul over St. Bernard, and fought nobly at Montebello, which afterwards gave him his title, and at Marengo. Lannes was afterwards sent ambassador to Portugal, and, on his return, was made marshal of France, and then Duke of Montebello. He was not very successful in Spain ; he took indeed Saragossa, but stained his. character there by perfidy, as well as cruelty. After the fall of this place, he retired to an estate which he had purchased near Paris, but, being recalled to the field, a cannon-ball at the battle of Essling carried away his right leg and the foot and ankle of the left. Napoleon showed great grief upon the occasion. On the ninth day of his wound, Lannes, grasping the Emperor's hand, said, " Another liour and your majesty will have lost one of your most zealous and faithful friends." And so indeed it proved. Lannes possessed dauntless courage, but was vulgar, and even coarse in his manners. — Court arid Camp of Bonaparte. Violent and hasty in his expressions, sometimes even in my presence, he was ardently attached to me. In the midst of his anger, he would not suffer any one to join him in his remarks. On that account, when he was in a choleric mood it was dangerous to speak to him, as he used to come to me in his rage, and say, such and such persons were not to be trusted. As a general, he was greatly superior to Moreau or to Soult. — A Voice from St. Jlehna. LAREVEILLIERE-LEPEAUX, born in Poitou, August 23, 1752, studied at Angers, and afterwards went to Paris, intending to become an advocate there. Instead of this, however, he returned to his native place, devoted himself to botany, and became professor of that science at Angers, where he established a botanic garden. Being deputed to the States-General, he excited attention by the hatred he showed to the higher orders. On being appointed a member of the Convention, he 502 BIOGEAPHICAL, SKETCHES. voted for the King's death. Though attached to the Gironde, he man- aged to escape the proscription of that party, and lay concealed during the whole Reign of Terror. He afterwards became one of the council of the Ancients, and then of the Directory. He was unwearied in labor, but his want of decision always excluded him from any influence in important affairs, and he made himself ridiculous by his whim of be- coming the chief of the sect of the Theojohilanthropists. In 1799 he was driven from the Directory, and returned again to his favorite books and plants. — BiograpJiie Moderne. It was well known that the fear of being hanged was Lareveilliere- Lepeaux's ruling sentiment. — Lacarriere. LAEOCHEJAQUELEI^, Hexei de, was twenty years old at the breaking out of the war in La Vendee. He had lived little in the world, and his manners and laconic expressions had something in them remark- ably simple and original. There was much sweetness as well as eleva- tion in his countenance. Although bashful, his eyes were quick and animated. He was tall and elegant, had fair hair, an oval face, and the contour rather English than French. He excelled in all exercises, particularly in horsemanship. When he first put himself at the head of the insurrection, he said to his soldiers : " My friends, I am but a boy, but by my courage I shall show myself worthy of commanding you. Follow me, if I go forward; kill me, if I fly; avenge me, if I fall." He fell at the battle of Nouaille, March 4, 1794. — Memoirs of the Marchioness de Larochejaquelein. LAVOISIER, Antohste Laurent, was a celebrated French chemist, whose name is connected with the antiphlogistic theory of chemistry, to the reception of which he contributed by his writings and discoveries. He was born at Paris, August 16, 1743, and was the son of opulent pairents, who gave him a good education. He had rendered many services to the arts and sciences, both in a public and private capacity. In 1791 he was appointed one of the commissioners of the national treasury. He was executed May 8, 1794, on the charge of being a con- spirator, and of having adulterated the tobacco with ingredients obnox- ious to the health of the citizens. Lavoisier married in 1771 the daugh- ter of a farmer-general, who subsequently became the wife of Count Rumford. — Encyclopaedia Americana. When Lavoisier requested that his death might be delayed a fort- night, in order that he might finish some important experiments, Cofinhal made answer, that the republic had no need of scholars or chemists. — Universal Biographic. LEBOIST, Joseph, born at Arras in 1765, at the period of the Revo- lution connected himself with Robespierre. After August 10th he was appointed mayor of that town; was then appointed attorney-general of the department, and afterwards joined the Convention as supple- mentary deputy. In 1793 he was sent as commissioner to Arras, where he perpetrated the most flagrant cruelties. In October, 1795, he was BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 503 condemned to death as a Terrorist. At the time of his execution he was thirty years of age. — Biographie Modeme. Lebon prided himself on his apostacy, libertinism, and cruelty. Ev- ery day after his dinner he presided at the execution of his victims. By his order an orchestra was erected close to the guillotine. He used to be present at the trials, and once gave notice of the death of those whom he chose to be sentenced to die. lie delighted in frightening women by firing off pistols close to their ears. — Prudhomme. It is a curious fact, highly illustrative of the progress of revolutions, that Lebon was at first humane and inoffensive in his govermnent, and it was not till he had received repeated orders from Robespierre, with a hint of a dungeon in case of refusal, that his atrocities commenced. Let no man, if he is not conscious of the utmost firmness of mind, be sure that he would not, under similar circumstances, have done the same. — Duchess d'A hrantes. In the city of Arras above two thousand persons perished by the guillo- tine. Mingling treachery and seduction with sanguinary oppression, Lebon turned the despotic powers with which he was invested into the means of individual gratification. — Alison. Lebon was accused before the Convention by a deputation from Cam- bray. On his trial, tlie monster acknowliHlged that, an aristocrat being condemned to the guillotine, he had kept him lying in the usual posture on his back, with his eyes turned up to the axe, which was suspended above his throat — in short, in all the agonies which can agitate the human mind — until he had read to him at length the Gazette, which had just arrived, giving an account of a victory gained by the republican armies. — Scott's Life of Napoleon. LECLERC, Charles Emanuel, entered the army while yet very young, and soon proved successful. Intrepid in the field and judicious in the council, he was employed in 1793 as adjutant-general in the army which besieged Toulon. In the armies of the Xorth and the Rhine he increased his reputation ; and in the campaign of Italy, in 1796, he reaped fresh laurels. He next accompanied tlie ex]iedition to Egypt, returned to France in 1799, and greatly contributed to the revolution of the 18th Bruraaire. Leclerc was afterwards commissioned to re- unite St. Domingo to the French government, but in 1802 he fell a victim to the plague, which had carried off many of his men. Napo- leon held his character in such esteem that he gave him his own sister in marriage. — Biographic Modeme. LEFEBVRE, Francois JosEPir, a native of Rufack, of an humble family, was born in 1755. The Revolution which found him a veteran sergeant, opened to him the higher career of his profession. In 1793 he was raised from the rank of captain to that of adjutant-general ; in De- cember of the same year he was general of brigade, and the month after, of division. He fought under Pichegru, ^foreau, Hoche, and Jourdan in the Netherlands and in Germany, and on all occasions with distinc- 504 BIOGEAPllICAL SKETCHES. tion. Lefebvre was of great use to Bonaparte in the revolution of Bru- maire, and, when raised afterwards to the dignity of marshal, was one of the best supports of the imperial fortunes. In the campaigns of 1805, 6, and 7, he showed equal skill and intrepidity. After the battle of Eylau, having distinguished himself by his conduct at Dantzic which he was sent to invest, he was created Duke of Dantzic. In the German cam- paign of 1809 he maintained the honor of the French arms, and in 1813 and 1814 adhered faithfully to the declining fortunes of his master. Louis XVIII. made him a peer, but notwithstanding this, he supported the Emperor on his return from Elba. In 1816 he was confirmed in his rank of marshal, and three years afterwards was recalled to the upper chamber. Lefebvre died in 1820, leaving no issue. — Court and Carnp of Bonaparte. LEGEISTDRE, Louis, was ten years a sailor, and afterwards a butcher at Paris. At the breaking out of the Revolution he was one of the earliest and most violent leaders of the mob. In 1791 he was deputed by the city of Paris to the Convention. In 1793 he voted for the King's death, and, the day before his execution, proposed to the Jacobins to cut him into eighty-four pieces, and send one to each of the eighty-four depart- ments ! He was one of the chief instigators of the atrocities of Lyons ; and at Dieppe, when some persons complained of the want of bread, he answered, " Well, eat the aristocrats !" Legendre died at Paris in 1797, aged forty-one, and bequeathed his body to the surgeons, " in order to be useful to mankind after his death." — Biographic Moderne. The revolutionary life of Legendre is more original than one would suppose, when considered from the time of his connection with the La- meths. His drinking tea at the house of Mirabeau and Robert of Paris, with Orleans; the twenty or thirty soldiers whom he received at his house ; his intimacy with Marat and Danton ; his behavior on the death of the latter; the part he played in the Mountaineer faction and the Jacobin society,- the defence he would have afforded Robespierre by interposing his own body ; and his fetching the keys to shut up the hall of the Jacobins — form a string of events which show a man not wholly incapable, and of singular versatility of character. — Prudhomme. LOUIS XVI. was the grandson of Louis XV., and the second son of the dauphin by his second wife, Marie Josephine, daughter of Frederick Augustus, King of Poland and Elector of Saxony. Louis was born in 1754, and in 1770 married Marie Antoinette of Austria. With the best intentions, but utterly inexperienced in government, he ascended the throne in 1774, when he was hardly twenty years of age. In his coun- tenance, which was not destitute of dignity, were delineated the promi- nent features of his character — integrity, indecision, and weakness. He was somewhat stiff in demeanor; and his manners had none of the grace possessed by almost all the princes of the blood. He was fond of reading, and endowed with a most retentive memory. He translated some parts of Gibbon's history. It was the fault of this unfortunate i.oris XVI. BIOORAPinCAL SKETCILES. 507 monarch to yield too easily to the extravagant tastes of the Queen and the court. The latter years of his reign were one continued scene of tumult and confusion; and he was guillotined January 21, 1793, m the thirtv-ninth year of his age. He was buried in the Magdalen church- yard^ Paris, between the graves of those who were crushed to death^in the crowd at the Louvre, on the anniversary of his marriage in 1774, and of the Swiss who fell on August 10, 11d2.—Encyclopa^dm Ameri- cana. • u 1 • The Revolution was an inheritance bequeathed to Louis by his an- cestors He was more fitted than any of those who preceded him, to pre- vent or terminate it; for he was capable of being a reformer before it broke out, or of being a constitutional monarch after it. He is perhaps the only prince who, destitute of passions, had not even that of power. With a Httle more strength of mind, Louis would have been a model of a king. — Mignet. •• • ^ j • The errors of Louis XVI. may truly be said to have originated m a virtuous principle. As to his weaknesses, I shall not endeavor to con- ceal them I have more than once had occasion to lament the indecision of this unfortunate prince; his repugnance to adopt the bold measures which might have saved him; and his want of that energy of character, and self-confidence which impose on the multitude, who are ever prone to believe that he who commands with firmness and an air of authority possesses the means of enforcing obedience. But I will venture to say that the very faults above enumerated did not belong to his natural character, but were ingrafted on it by the selfish indolence of M. de Maurepas.-Fni;a^6 Memoirs of Bertrand de MoIlevtUe. MACBOKALD, Marshai. the son of a Highland gentleman of^the Clanronald sept, who was among the first to join the Tretender m 1 . 45, and, after the battle of Culloden, escaped to F-^^' fnnnt into t^^^^ His son was born November 23, 1765, and entered ^^ l-^tenan nto the Irish regiment of Dillon. On the breaking out of the I^^ volution, he embraced its principles, but with moderation At the ^at^e o J- mappes, he behaved with great gallantry, and led the van of tl e -m^ of the North as general of brigade. On the 1 Sth Brumaire he took part^. ith Bonaparte, but his favor with the First Consul ceased m 1803 and he remained in obscurity till the year 1809, when H^^f^^^ ^^, ^„7;, mand in the army, and at the battle of ^Yagram exhibited such sk^^^ and intrepidity that the Emperor created him a marsluil on t e field and 508 BIOGEAPHICAL SKETCHES. tiers of the kingdom. He died at Paris, September 24, 1840. — Court and Camp of Bonaparte. MAILLARD, Stanislas, a runner belonging to the Chatelet at Paris, began, from the opening of the States-General, to signalize himself in all the tumults of the metropolis. In September, 1792, he presided in the meeting at the Abbaye to regulate the massacre of the prisoners; and it has been said that he seized on the spoils of those who were mur- dered by his order. He afterwards became one of the denunciators of the prisons, and, during the Reign of Terror, appeared several times at La Force, to mark the victims who were to be condemned by the revo- lutionary tribunal. — Biographie Moderne. MALESHERBES, Christian William de Lamoignon de, an emi- nent French statesman, was the son of the Chancellor of France, and was born at Paris, December 6, 1Y21. In the year 1Y50 he succeeded his father as president of the court of aids, and was also made super- intendent of the press, in both of which offices he displayed a liberal and enlightened policy. On the banishment of the parliaments and the suppression of the court of aids, Malesherbes was exiled to his coun- try seat. In 17Y5 he was appointed minister of state. He took no part in the proceedings which led to the overthrow of the monarchy; but on the decree of the Convention for the King's trial, he emerged from his retreat to become the voluntary advocate of his sovereign. Malesherbes was guillotined April 22, 1794, and almost his whole fam- ily were extirpated by their merciless persecutors. — Encydopoedia Americana. When M. de Malesherbes went to the Temple to announce the result of the vote, he found Louis with his forehead resting on his hands, and absorbed in a deep reverie. W^ithout inquiring concerning his fate, he said : " For two hours I have been considering whether, during my whole reign, I have voluntarily given any cause of complaint to my subjects ; and with perfect sincerity I declare that I deserve no reproach at their hands, and that I have never formed a wish but for their happiness." — Lacretelle. Louis was fully prepared for his fate. During the calling of the votes he asked M. de Malesherbes, " Have you not met, near the Tem- ple, the White Lady ?" " What do you mean ?" replied he. " Do you not know," resumed the King, with a smile, " that when a prince of our house is about to die, a female, dressed in white, is seen wandering about the palace ? My friends," added he to his defenders, " I am about to depart before you for the land of the just, but there, at least, we shall be reunited." — Alison. MARAT, Jean Paul, born May 24, 1744, at E'eufchatel, of Cal- vinist parents, was not five feet high; his face was hideous, and his head monstrous for his size. From nature he derived a daring mind, an ungovernable imagination, a vindictive temper, and a ferocious heart. He studied medicine before he settled in Paris, where he was long in. ^ 1 ^ ™ ^^BHH^^II^'' V^'^E^j^y ^ Tyv ^^^f^K^" ' 'v*^' ' ^Wf^^KBT jK^ p v4 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCHES. 511 indigence. At last he obtained the situation of veterinary surgeon to the Count d'Artois. At the period of the Revolution, his natural en- thusiasm rose to delirium, and he set up a journal entitled The People's Friend, in which he preached revolt, murder, and pillage. In 1790 Lafayette laid siege to his house, but he found an asylum in that of an actress who. was induced by her husband to admit him. In the dif- ferent searches made after him, the cellars of his partisans, and the vaults of the Cordeliers' church successively gave him shelter, and thence he continued to send forth his journal. In August ^farat be- came a member of the municipality ; was one of the chief instigators of the September massacres, and even proposed to Danton to set the prisons on fire. Several deputies pressed the Assembly to issue a war- rant for his arrest, but they could not obtain it, for Danton and Robes- pierre were his supporters. On one occasion Marat said to the people, '' Massacre 270,000 partisans of the former order of things !" Soon afterwards he was made president of the Jacobin society. Marat was stabbed to the heart, while in the bath, by Charlotte Corday. He had some talent ; wrote and spoke with facility, in a diffuse, incoherent, but bold and impassioned manner. After his death, honors almost divine were paid him ; and in the Place du Carrousel a sort of pyramid was raised in celebration of him, within which were placed his bust, his bathing-tub, his writing-desk, and lamp; and a sentinel was posted there, who one night died either of cold or horror. Eventually, how- ever, France indignantly broke his bust, tore his remains from the Pantheon, and dragged them through the mud. — Biographie Moderns. The following description of Marat by Sir Walter Scott is full of graphic energy : " Marat's political exhortations began and ended like the howl of a bloodhound for murder. If a wolf could have written a journal, the gaunt and famished wretch could not have ravened more eagerly for slaughter. It was blood which was Marat's constant de- mand; not in drops from the breast of an individual, not in puny streams from the slaughter of families; but blood in the profusion of an ocean. We are inclined to believe that there was a touch of insanity in this unnatural ferocity; and the wild and squalid features of the wretch appear to have intimated a degree of alienation of mind. Dan- ton murdered to glut his rage ; Robespierre, to avenge his injured vanity, or to remove a rival whom he hated ; Marat, from the same instinctive love of blood which induces a wolf to continue his ravages of the flocks long after his hunger is appeased." " Give me," said Marat, " two hundred Neapolitans, the knife in their right hand, in their left a mujf, to serve for a target, and with these I will traverse France and complete the Revolution." He also made an exact calculation, showing in what manner 200,000 men might be put to death in one day. — Barharoux's Memoirs. When ^Afarat mounted the tribune with the list of proscribed patriots in his hand, and dictated to the astonished Convention what names to 512 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. insert, and what names to strike out, it was not that poor, distorted scarecrow figure and maniac countenance which inspired awe and si- lenced opposition ; but he was hemmed in, driven on, sustained in the height of all his malevolence, folly, and presumption by eighty thousand foreign bayonets, that sharpened his worthless sentences and pointed his frantic gestures. Paris threatened with destruction, thrilled at his accents. Paris, dressed in her robe of flames, seconded his incendiary zeal. A thousand hearts were beating in his bosom, which writhed like the sibyl's — a thousand daggers were whetted on his stony words. Had he not been backed by a strong necessity and strong opinion, he would have been treated as a madman ; but when his madness arose out of the sacred cause and impending fate of a whole people, he who denounced the danger was a " seer blest " — he who pointed out a victim was the high-priest of freedom. — Ilazlitt's Life of Napoleon. MAKIE ANTOINETTE, Josephe Jeanne, Princess, of Lor- raine, Archduchess of Austria, and Queen of France, born at Vienna, November 2, 1755, was daughter of the Emperor Francis I. and of Maria Theresa. She received a careful education, and nature had be- stowed on her an uncommon share of grace and beauty. Her marriage with the dauphin (afterwards Louis XVI.) at Versailles, in 1770, had all the appearance of a triumph. It was, subsequently remarked that immediately after the ceremony, a fearful thunder-storm, such as had scarcely ever before been witnessed, took place at Versailles. Anxious minds indulged in yet more fearful forebodings, when, at the festivity which the city of Paris prepared in celebration of the royal nuptials, through the want of judicious arrangements, a great number of people in the Rue Royale were trodden down in the crowd. Fifty-three per- sons were found dead, and about three hundred dangerously Avounded. In 1788, Marie Antoinette drew upon herself the hatred of the court party, who used every means to make her odious to the nation. Her lively imagination often gave her the appearance of levity, and some- times of intrigue and dissimulation. A national restlessness, too, led her on a constant search after novelty, which involved her in heavy ex- penses. It was still more to her disadvantage that she injured her dig- nity by neglecting the strict formality of court manners. About this time her enemies spread a report about that she was still an Austrian at heart. When Louis XVI. informed her of his condemnation to death, she congratulated him on the approaching termination of an ex- istence so painful. After his execution, she asked nothing of the Con- vention but a mourning dress, which she wore for the remainder of her days. Her behavior during the whole term of her imprisonment was exemplary in the highest degree. On October 3, 1798, she was brought before the revolutionary tribunal, and replied to all the questions of her judges satisfactorily, and with decision. She heard her sentence with perfect calmness, and the next day ascended the scaffold. The beauty for which she was once so celebrated was gone; grief had dis- MARIE AXTOTXETTE. BIOGEAPHICAL SKETCHES. 515 torted her features, and in the damp, unhealthy prison, she had almost lost one of her eyes. When she reached the place of execution, she cast back one fond, lingering look at the Tuileries, and then mounted the scaffold. When she came to the top, she flung herself on her knees, and exclaimed, " Farewell, my dear children, forever — I go to your father!" Thus died the Queen of France, October 16, 1794, towards the close of the thirty-eighth year of her age. — Encyclopcedia Americana. MARM02^T, AuGUSTE Fredekique Louis Viesse de, was born at Chatillon, July 20, 1774. From his earliest infancy he was designed for the army, and at Toulon attracted the notice of Bonaparte, who, when appointed general of the army of the interior, appointed him his aide-de-camp. Throughout the campaigns of Italy, Egypt, and Syria, i\Iarmont was at the side of l^Tapoleon, and was one of the few selected to return with him to France. In the passage of Mont St. Ber- nard he greatly distinguished himself, and commanded the artillery at Marengo. In the wars of 1S05-1807, he served with equal honor, and in the course of the German campaign of 1809 obtained the marshal's truncheon and the title of Duke of Kagusa. He was afterwards ordered to replace ^lassena in the command of the army of Portugal, but this was a situation above his abilities. Soon after his arrival in Spain, Marmont effected a junction with the army of Soult, and pursued Wel- lington towards Salamanca. For a time they watched each other, but a blunder of Marmont threw the initiative into the hands of Welling- ton ; he was at dinner in his tent when information was brought him that the French were extending their wing, probably to outflank him. " Marmont's good genius has forsaken him," said W^ellington, and, mounting his horse, attacked and defeated the French at the great bat- tle of Salamanca, where IMarmont lost his arm. He afterwards fought at Lutzen, Bautzen, and Leipsic, and on the entrance of the allies into France was intrusted with the defence of Paris, which, however, he was compelled to surrender to the enemy. He afterwards entered into a treaty with the allies, and marched his troops within their canton- ments, stipulating, however, for the freedom of Napoleon's person. Louis made Marmont a peer, and when Napoleon returned from Elba he de- nounced him as a traitor, for the part he had played in the abdication. In I 1817 he quelled an insurrection at Lyons. — Court and Camp of Bona- parte. In 1830 "Marmont took part with Charles X, against the people, and was driven into exile. He died at Venice, March 2, 1852. MASSENA, Andre. Duke of Pivoli and Prince of Esslingen, Marshal of France, was born May 8, 1758, at Nice, and rose from a common soldier to the rank of commander. In 1792, when the warriors of the republic had ascended ^font Cenis, he joined their ranks; distinguished himself by courage and sagacity; and in 1793 was made general of brigade. In the ensuing year he took the command of the right wing of the Italian army. He was the constant companion in arms of Bonaparte, 516 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCHES. who used to call him the spoiled child of victory. In 1799 Massena dis- played great ability as commander-in-chief in Switzerland. After he had reconquered the Helvetian and Rhsetian Alps, he was sent to Italy to check the victorious career of the Austrians. He hastened with the small force he could muster to the support of Genoa, the defence of which is among his most remarkable achievements. In 1804 he was created marshal of the empire, and the year after received the chief com- mand in Italy. After the peace of Tilsit, war having broken out in Spain, Massena took the field with the title of Duke of Rivoli ; but in 1809 he was recalled to Germany. At Esslingen his firmness saved the French army from total destruction, and l^apoleon rewarded him with the dignity of prince of that place. After the peace he hastened to Spain, but, being unsuccessful against Wellington, was recalled. In 1814 Massena commanded at Toulon, and declared for Louis XVIII. On the landing of Bonaparte in 1815, he joined him, was created a peer, and commander of the national guard at Paris. He lived afterwards in retirement, and his death was hastened by chagrin at the conduct of the Royalists. He died in the year 1817. — Encyclopcedia Americana. Massena, said ISTapoleon, was a man of superior talent. He generally, however, made bad dispositions previous to a battle; and it was not until the dead began to fall about him that he began to act with that judgment which he ought to have displayed before. In the midst of the dying and the dead, and of balls sweeping away those who encircled him, Massena was himself, and gave his orders and made his dispositions with the greatest sangfroid and judgment. It was truly said of him, that he never began to act with skill, until the battle was going against him. He was, however, un voleur. He went halves with the contractors and commissaries of the army. I signified to him often that if he would discontinue his peculations, I would make him a present of eight hun- dred thousand, or a million, of francs ; but he had acquired such a habit, that he could not keep his hands from money. On this account he was hated by the soldiers, who mutinied against him three or four times. However, considering the circumstances of the times, he was precious; and had not his bright parts been sullied by avarice, he would have been a great man. — A Voice from St. Helena. MENOU, Jacques Feancois, Baron de, deputy from the nobility of the bailiwick of Touraine to the States-General, was one of the first members of that order who joined the chamber of the tiers-etat. In 1790 he was president of the Assembly, and proved himself the open enemy of the clergy, and was one of the commissioners appointed to dispose of their property. In 1798 he was employed in the Vendean war, and ap- pointed commander-in-chief; but, being once or twice defeated, his com- mand was taken from him. In 1795 he defended the National Conven- tion against the Jacobins, for which he was rewarded by the gift of a complete suit of armor, and the post of commander-in-chief of the army of the interior. In 1798 Menou, as general of a division, accompanied BIOGEAPHICAL SKETCHES. 517 Bonaparte to Egypt, where he displayed great valor and ability. He there embraced Mohammedanism, took the turban, assumed the name of Abdallah, attended the mosques, and married a rich young Egyptian woman, daughter to the keeper of the baths at Alexandria. When Na- poleon left, Menou remained with Kleber, after whose assassination he took the command of the army of the East. When General Abercromby landed before Alexandria, Menou marched to attack him, but was re- pulsed with great loss. Shortly after his return to France, he was sent to Piedmont to direct the administration there. In 1803 he had the title of grand officer of the Legion of Honor conferred on him, and in 1805 was again confirmed in the general government of Piedmont. — Bio- graphie Moderne. MIRABEAU, HoNOKE Gabriel Riquetti, Comte de, was born at Bignon, ]\[arch 9, 1749. Youthful impetuosity and ungoverned pas- sions made the early part of his life a scene of disorder and misery. After having been some time in the army, he married Mademoiselle de Marignane, a rich heiress in the city of Aix; but the union was not fortunate, and his extravagant expenses deranging his affairs, he con- tracted debts to the amount of 300,000 livres, in consequence of which his father obtained from the Chatelet an act of lunacy against him. Enraged at this, he went to settle at Manosque; whence he was, on ac- count of a private quarrel, some time afterwards removed, and shut up in the castle of If; he was then conveyed to that of Joux, in Franche Comte, and obtained permission to go occasionally to Pontarlier, where he met Sophia de Ruffey, Marchioness of Monmir, wife of a president in the parliament of Besan^on. Her wit and beauty inspired Mirabeau with a most violent passion, and he soon escaped to Holland with her, but was for this outrage condemned to lose his head, and would prob- ably have ended his days far from his country, had not an agent of police seized him in 1777, and carried him to the castle of Vincennes, where he remained till December, 1780, when he recovered his liberty. The French Revolution soon presented a vast field for his activity; and, being rejected at the time of the elections by the nobility of Pro- vence, he hired a warehouse, put up this inscription, " Mirabeau, woollen- draper," and was elected deputy from the ticrs-etat of Aix; from that time the court of Versailles, to whom he was beginning to be formidable, called him the Plebeian Count. On the day when the States-General opened, he looked at the King, who was covered with jewels, and said to those near him, " Behold the victim already adorned !" He soon took possession of the tribune, and there discussed the most im- portant matters in the organization of society. He had never at that time conceived the possibility of establishing a democracy in so im- mense a state as France. His motive for seeking popularity was solely that he might regulate a court which he caused to tremble, but the court committed the fault of not seeking to seduce his ambition. He then connected himself with the Duke of Orleans, from whom he ob- VOL. 11.— O 518 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCHES. tained certain sums that he wanted; but soon perceiving that it was impossible to make anything of such a clod, he broke off the intimacy in October, 1789. If he was not one of the principal causes of the events which took place on the 5th and 6th of that month, the words he made use of before and during that time, give reason to suppose he was no stranger to them. The next day he made the King new over- tures, and repeated them shortly after, but they were invariably re- jected; and he then considered how he should, by new blows, com- pel the sovereign and his council to have recourse to him. ISTot, how- ever, till the end of the session did this take place; and then, by the intervention of Madame de Mercy and M. de Montmorin, his debts were paid, and a pension was granted him. From that time he devoted him- self to strengthening the monarchy, and addressed to the King a state- ment on the causes of the Revolution, and the methods of putting a stop to it. It may be doubted whether he could have succeeded in this undertaking; but it is now certain that, at the moment of his sudden death, he was busied in a project for dissolving an assembly which he could no longer direct. On January 16, 1791, he was appointed a member of the department of Paris, and on the 31st, president of the JSTational Assembly. This being the period of his closest connection with the court, he wished as president to acquire new celebrity, and show himself capable of directing the Assembly; a design which he executed with a degree of address admired even by his enemies. On March 28th he was taken ill, and died on April 2d, at half-past eight in the morn- ing, aged forty-two. So short an illness excited a suspicion at first that he had been poisoned, and all parties mutually accused each other of the crime; but when his body was opened, there appeared, as the physicians asserted, no marks of violence. When on his death-bed, he said openly to his friends, " I shall carry the monarchy with me, and a few factious spirits will share what is left." At the moment of his death he retained all his fortitude and self-possession; on the very morning he wrote these words, " It is not so difficult to die ;" and at the instant when his eyes were closing he wrote, " To sleep." His loss seemed to be considered as a public calamity, and it is remarkable that all parties believing him to be in their interests, joined in re- gretting him. His obsequies were celebrated with great pomp; all the theatres were shut ; the deputies, the ministers, the members of all the authoritative assemblies, formed a procession which extended above a league, and which was four hours marching; and his body was placed in the Pantheon beside that of Descartes. In November, 1793, his ashes were, by order of the Convention, removed thence, and scattered abroad by the people, who at the same time burned his bust in the I'lace de Greve, as an enemy to the republic, and one who had corre- sponded with the royal family. Thus did Mirabeau verify what he had himself said, " That the capitol was close to the Tarpeian rock, and that the same people who flattered him would have had equal pleasure MIKAREAU. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 521 in seeing him hanged." !Mirabeau was of middle stature; his face was disfigured by the marks of small-pox; and the enormous quantity of hair on his head gave him some resemblance to a lion. He was of a lofty character, and had talents which were extraordinary, and some which were sublime; his felicity of diction was unrivalled, and his knowledge of the human heart profound; but he was essentially a des- pot, and, had he governed an empire, he would have surpassed Riche- lieu in pride, and Mazarin in policy. Naturally violent, the least re- sistance inflamed him; when he appeared most irritated, his expression had most eloquence ; and being a consummate actor, his voice and gest- ures lent a new interest to all he said. Ilis chief passion was pride; and though his love of intrigue was unbounded, it can be ascribed only to his pecuniary necessities. In the last year of his life he paid im- mense debts, bought estates, furniture, the valuable library of Buffon, and lived in a splendid style. — Biographie Moderne. MIRABEAU, Viscount de Boniface de Riquetti^ was a younger brother of Mirabeau, and served with distinction in America, 1777-79. He was born near Nemours in 1754. His cele- brated relative said of him one day, " In any other family the viscount would be a good-for-nothing fellow and a genius ; in ours, he is a blockhead and a worthy man." In 1789 the younger Mirabeau was deputed to the States-General, and defended his order with an energy equal to that with which his brother attacked it. On one occa- sion, when he had kept possession of the tribune above an hour, the latter, after the sitting was concluded, went to his house, and gently re- proached him with often drinking to excess, which led him into un- pleasant embarrassments. " What do you complain of ?" answered the viscount, laughing; "this is the only one of all the family vices that you have left me." In 1790 the younger ^lirabeau emigrated, levied a legion, and served under the Prince of Conde. His singular con- formation had gained him the nickname of " Hogshead " ; and indeed he was almost as big as he was tall, but his countenance was full of in- telligence. In the beginning of the Revolution he wrote a satire en- titled the " Magic Lantern," and left behind him a collection of tales the versification of which is sprightly and graceful. — Biographie Moderne. MOXCEY, Bon Adrien Jeannot, was born in 1754. His father was an advocate, and he was intended for the same profession, but he took an invincible repugnance to it, and entered the army as a private soldier. In 1700, at the age of thirty-six, he was but a sub-lieutenant of dragoons. Soon afterwards, however, he was draughted into a battalion of light infantry, and thenceforward his promotion was rapid. In the course of the ensuing two years, he had risen to be general of division, and received the command of the eleventh military division at Bayonne. On the formation of the consular government Moncey took part in the war of Italy, and was present at the famous battle of Ma- 522 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCHES. rengo. In the .year 1804 he became marshal of the empire, and subse- quently Duke of Conegliano. In 1808 he was engaged in the Spanish campaigns, but his operations were by no means brilliant. He was also present in the Russian expedition, and in the subsequent struggles in Germany. When ISTapoleon abdicated, Moncey sent in his adhesion to the royal government ; he refused, however, to preside on the trial of Marshal jSTey, for which he was degraded from his honors and con- fined. In 1823 he accompanied the Duke d'Angouleme in his inva- sion of Spain. Moncey was humane by nature, honorable in conduct, and a cautious rather than a bold general. — Court and Camp of Bona- parte. MONTMORIF ST. HEREM, Akmand Marc, Count de, minister of finance and secretary of state, was one of the Assembly of Notables held at Versailles, and had the administration of foreign affairs at the time when the States-General opened. He was dismissed in 1789 with ISTecker, but was immediately recalled by order of the National Assem- bly. In September, 1790, when all his colleagues were dismissed, he retained his place, and even the portfolio of the interior was for a time confided to him. In' April, 1791, he sent a circular letter to all the ministers at foreign courts, assuring their sovereigns that the King was wholly unrestrained, and sincerely attached to the new constitution. In the beginning of June, he was struck from the list of Jacobins, and . was afterwards summoned to the bar for giving the King's passport when he fled to Varennes ; but he easily cleared himself from this charge by proving that the passport had been taken out under a supposititious name. M. de Montmorin soon after this tendered his resignation ; yet though withdrawn from public life, he continued near the King, and, together with Bertrand de MoUeville, Mallouet, and a few others, formed a kind of privy council, which suggested and prepared various plans for strengthening the monarchy. This conduct drew on him the inveterate hatred of the Jacobins, who attacked him and Bertrand as members of the Austrian committee. M. de Montmorin was one of the first victims who fell in the massacres of September. — Biographie Moderne. The unfortunate M. de Montmorin had taken refuge on August 10th at the house of a washerwoman in the faubourg St. Antoine. He was diseov^ered in the early part of September by the imprudence of his hostess, who bought the finest fowls and the best fruit she could find, and carried them to her house, without taking any precautions to elude the observation of her neighbors. They soon suspected her of harbor- ing an aristocrat. This conjecture spread among the populace of the fauburg, who were almost all of them spies and agents of the Jacobins. M. de Montmorin was in consequence arrested, and conducted to the bar of the National Assembly. He answered the questions put to him in the most satisfactory manner; but his having concealed himself, and a bottle of laudanum having been found in his pocket, formed, said his BIOGRArUICAL SKETCHES, 523 enemies, a strong presumption that he was conscious. of some crime. After being detained two days in the coiumittee, he was sent a prisoner to the Abbaye ; and a few days afterwards was murdered in a manner too shocking to mention ; and his mangled body carried in triumph to the National Assembly. — Privair Memoirs of Bcrtrand de MoUeville. MOREAU, Jean Victok, one of the oldest and most celebrated gen- erals of the French Tfepublic, was born in Bretagne, August 11, 1703. Ilis father intended him for the law, but he fled from his studies, and en- listed in a regiment before he had attained his eighteenth year. In 17S9 he joined the army of the North, and subsequently favored the Girondins, whose fall greatly affected him, and it was with much re- pugnance that he accepted the constitution of 1793, when proposed to the army. In 1794 he was appointed general of division, and com- manded the right wing of Pichegru's army. lie was soon after named commander-in-chief of the troops on the Rhine, and commenced that course of operations which terminated in the celebrated retreat from the extremity of Germany to the French frontier, in the face of a su- perior enemy, by which his skill as a consummate tactician was so much exalted. In 1798 Moreau was sent to command the army in Italy, but, after some brilliant successes, was compelled to give way to the Russians under Suwarrow. After Napoleon's return from Egypt, Moreau was appointed to the command of the armies of the Danube and Rhine, and gained the decisive victory of Ilohenlinden. lie was after- wards accused of participating in the conspiracy of Piehegru and Georges, and sentenced to banishment, whereupon he went to America and lived in retirement till 1813, when he joined the allied armies, and was killed in the battle of Dresden, which was fought in that year. — Encyclopedia Americana. " Moreau," observed the Emperor, " possesses many good qualities. His bravery is undoubted, but he has more courage than energy; he is indolent and effeminate. When with the army, he lived like a pacha; he smoked, was almost constantly in bed, and gave himself up to the pleasures of the table. His dispositions are naturally good; but he is too lazy for study. He does not read, and since he has been tied to his wife's apron-strings, he is fit for nothing. He sees only with the eyes of his wife and her mother, who have had a hand in all his plots against me ; and yet, strange to say, it was by my advice that he en- tered into this union. You must remember, Bourrienne, my observing to you more than two years ago, that Moreau would one day strike his head against the gate of the Tuileries. Had he remained faithful to me, I would have conferred on him the title of First ^farshal of the Em- pire." — Bourrienne. MORTIER, ^fARSiiAL, was born at Cateau-Cambresis, February 13, 1768. In 1791 he obtained the rank of captain in a volunteer regiment; and under Piehegru, ^^foreau, and ^lassena, fought his way to the com- mand of a division. He was a favorite with Napoleon, who created 624 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCHES. him a marshal for the zeal with which he seized Hanover at the rupture of the peace of Amiens. Being afterwards created Duke of Treviso, Mortier went to Spain, but met with no success. He took part in the Russian expedition, but distinguished himself only by blowing up the Kremlin. In 1814 he submitted to Louis, and was confirmed in his honors and posts ; but he turned traitor on the return of Bonaparte, and was, therefore, on the second restoration, shut out from the cham- ber of peers. In 1819, however, he was restored to his peerage. He was killed by an infernal machine, July 28, 1835, during Fieschi's attempt to assassinate King Louis Philippe. — Court and Camp of Bonaparte. MURAT, Joachim, was born at Cahors, March 25, 1767. His father was the keeper of a humble country inn, who had once been steward to the wealthy family of the Talleyrands. From early youth, Murat was distinguished by his daring courage and his skill in horsemanship. He was originally intended for the church, but having, in his twentieth year, run away with, and fought a duel for, a pretty girl of the neigh- borhood, all his ecclesiastical hopes were •crushed by the notoriety which this affair brought upon him. He therefore entered the army, made himself conspicuous by his revolutionary enthusiasm, and in one month fought not less than six duels ! He soon gained promotion, and, in the aifair of the sections, made himself so useful to Bonaparte, that, when appointed to the command of the army of Italy, that general placed him on his personal staff. Shortly afterwards Murat was promoted to the rank of general of brigade ; accompanied JSTapoleon in his Egyptian expedition ; and returned with him to Paris, where he married Caro- line Bonaparte, his patron's youngest sister. On the establishment of the empire, he was created marshal of France, and, in 1806, invested with the grand duchy of Berg and Cleves. In 1808 he entered Madrid with a formidable army, and sullied his reputation by his exactions and cruelties. He was afterwards appointed to the throne of ^Naples, but was rendered constantly uneasy by the system of jealous espionage pursued towards him by ISTapoleon. In 1812 he joined the Emperor in his Russian expedition, and was placed over the whole cavalry of the grand army, in which position he rendered himself so conspicuous by his daring that the very Cossacks held him in respect and admiration. When Napoleon quitted Russia, Murat was left in command, but he was unequal to his trying duties, and retnrned dispirited to Naples, greatly to the Emperor's dissatisfaction. In the German campaign of 1813 he fought nobly at Dresden and Leipsic, but immediately after this last battle, deserted the imperial standard. On Napoleon's escape from Elba, Mnrat put an army of 50,000 men in motion, in order, as he said, to secure the independence of Italy, but was defeated by the Austrians and English. After the battle of Waterloo, he wandered about for some months as a fugitive; bnt, lioing discovered, was seized, tried, and ordered to be shot, by Ferdinand, the then reigning King of Naples. When the fatal moment arrived, ^furat walked with a firm step to the BIOGIIAPIIICAL SKETCHES. 525 place of execution. He would not accept a chair, nor suffer his eyes to be bound. He stood upright, with his face towards the soldiers, and ■when all was ready, kissed a carnelian on which the head of his wife "was engraved, and gave the word thus : '* Save my face — aim at my heart — fire!" !Murat left two daughters and two sons; the elder of his sons is a citizen of the United States, and said to be a youth of very superior promise. — Court and Camp of Bonaparte. " ^lurat," said Napoleon, " is a good soldier — one of the most brilliant men I ever saw on a field of battle. Of no superior talents, without much moral courage, timid even in forming his plan of operations; but the moment he saw the enemy, all that vanished — his eye was the most sure, and the most rapid, his courage truly chivalrous. ^loreover, he is a fine man, tall, and well dressed, though at times rather fan- tastically — in short, a niagnifient lazzarone. It was really a magnificent sight to see him in battle heading the cavalry." — Lord Ebringtons Ac- count of his Conversation with Napoleon at Elba. NECKER, Jacques, was the son of a tutor in the college of Geneva. He was born at Geneva, September 30, 1732, and began life as a clerk to M. Thellusson, a banker at Paris, whose partner he afterwards be- came, and in the course of twelve or fourteen years his fortune sur- passed that of the first bankers. He then thought of obtaining some place tinder government, but he at first aimed only at the office of first com- missioner of finance, to attain which he endeavored to acquire a literary reputation, and published a panegyric on Colbert. Necker was begin- ning to enjoy some degree of reputation when Turgot was disgraced, and anxious to profit by the dissipation in which the new minister, Clugny, lived, he presented statements to M. de Maurepas in which he exaggerated the resources of the state. The rapid fortune of Necker induced a favorable opinion of his capacity, and after Clugny died he was united with his successor, M. Taboureau des Reaux, an appointment which he obtained partly by the assistance of the Marquis de Pczay. After eight months' administration, Necker, on July 2, 1777, compelled his colleague to resign, and presented his accounts in 1781. Shortly after, he endeavored to take advantage of the public favor, and aspired to a place in the council. He insisted on it, and threatened to resign ; but he was the dupe of his own presumption, and was suffered to retire. In 1787 he returned to France, and wrote against Calonne, who had ac- cused him as the cause of the deficiency in the finances; this dispute ended in the exile of Necker; but, in 17S8, when the general displeasure against Brienne terrified the court, he was again appointed comptroller- general, but, feeling himself supported by the people, he refused to ac- cept the post, unless on the condition of not laboring in conjunction with the prime mini^;ter. Eager for popular applause, Necker hoped to govern everything by leading the King to hope for an increase of power, and the people for a speedy democracy, by the debasement of the higher orders and the parliaments. The report which he made to the council on Decem- 526 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. ber 27, 1788, respecting the formation of the States-General, proved the first spark which lighted the combustible matter that had long been pre- pared. On July 11th, when the court thought fit to declare against the factions, l^ecker, who had become absolutely their sentinel in the very council of the King was dismissed; but on the 10th the Assembly wrote him a letter, expressing their regret at his withdrawal, and informed him that they had obtained his recall. His return from Basle to Paris was one continued triumph. During the remainder of the year he was con- stantly presenting new statements on the resources of the revenue; but he soon perceived that his influence was daily diminishing. At last, the famous Red Book appeared, and completely put an end to his popularity ; so that in the month of December he determined to fly, after having seen the populace tear from the gate of his house, the inscription, " To the adored minister." He died at Geneva, April 9, 1804, after a short but painful illness. — Biographie Moderne. 'N'EY, Michael^ Duke of Elchingen, Prince of Moskva, marshal and peer of France; born at Saarlouis, January 10, 1769; entered the French army in 1788 ; made a brigadier-general in 1797 after the battle of JSTeuwied, general of division in 1799, after the capture of Mannheim, and marshal in 1804. He commanded in the Austrian, Prussian, and Spanish campaigns, and distinguished himself at Elchingen, Jena, Eylau and Friedland. He was ordered to Spain in 1808, and was successful in maintaining French rule over Galicia, but in 1810 he met with re- verses in Portugal, especially during the retreat from Torres Vedras. His most celebrated exploits were the battle of Borodino while the grand army crossed the Moskva, and his command of the rear guard during the retreat from Moscow. After the abdication of l^apoleon he submitted to the Bourbons, and was well received by Louis XVIII. When Napoleon returned from Elba, ISTey assured the King of his fidelity, and received the command of a corps of 4000 men, with which he marched against the Emperor, but when he saw the enthusiasm with which Napoleon was re- ceived everywhere he yielded to the demands of his soldiers and went over to the side of the Emperor. In the Waterloo campaign Ney fought the battle of Quatre Bras on the same day that Napoleon defeated the Prussians at Ligny, and at Waterloo he commanded the centre. After the second restoration he was captured, arraigned for high treason, be- fore the Chamber of Peers, which by a large majority condemned him to death. He was shot December 7, 1815, in the garden of the Luxem- bourg. At eight o'clock, on the morning of December 7th, the marshal, with a firm step, and an air as calm as if he had been on a field of battle, de- scended the steps leading to the court of the Luxembourg, and entered a coach, which conveyed him to the place of execution, outside the garden gates. He alighted, and advanced towards the file of soldiers drawn up to despatch him. To an officer who proposed to bandage his eyes he re- plied, " Are you ignorant that for twenty-five years I have been accus- BIOQEAPHICAL, SKETCHES. 527 tomed to face both ball and bullet ?" He took off his hat, raised it above his head, and said, with a firm voice, " I declare, before God and man, that I have never betrayed mj country : may my death render her happy ! Vive la France ! Then, turning to the men, and striking his other hand on his heart, he gave the word, " Soldiers — fire!" Thus, in his forty-seventh year, did '' the Bravest of the Brave " ex- piate one great error, alike alien from his natural character and un- worthy of the general course of his life. If he was sometimes a stern, he was never an implacable enemy. He was sincere, honest, blunt even : so far from flattering, he often contradicted him on whose nod his fortunes depended. He was, with few exceptions, merciful to the van- quished; and while so many of his brother marshals dishonored them- selves by rapine and extortion, Michael ^ey lived and died poor. " This extraordinary man," says Colonel Xapier, " was notoriously indoTent, and unlearned in the abstract science of war; it was necessary for him to see in order to act; his character seemed to be asleep, until some imminent danger aroused all the marvellous energy and fortitude wdth which nature had endowed him. He who had fought 500 battles for France — not one against her — was shot as a traitor !" — Court and Camp of Bonaparte. ORLEANS, Louis Philippe Joseph, Duke of, great-great-grand- son of Louis XIII. and cousin of Louis XVI., the first prince of the blood, was born at St. Cloud, April 13, 1747, and rendered the title of Due de Chartres, w^hich he bore till his father's death, celebrated by his depravity. He was in stature below the middle size, but very well made, and his features were regular and pleasing, till libertinism and debauchery covered them with red, inflamed pustles. He was very early bald ; was skilled in all bodily exercises ; kind and compassionate in his domestic relations, and endowed with good natural abilities, though igno- rant and credulous. In 1787 his father died, and he then took the title of Duke of Orleans, and sought to render himself popular. By the advice of his creatures he opposed the King in the royal meeting on November 19, 1787, and was exiled to Villers-Cotterets ; but in return for the sums he lavished on the journalists, he soon became the idol of the populace. Another method wliich he successfully put in practice to obtain the favor of the people, was to buy up corn, and then relieve those who were languishing under the artificial scarcity. In 1788-89, public tables were spread and fires lighted, by his order, for the paupers of the metropolis, and sums of money were likewise distributed among them. In the very earliest meetings, he protested against the proceed- ings of his chamber, and joined that of the tiers-etat, witli the dissentient members of his order. On July 3d he was nominated president of tlie National Assembly ; but he refused the post, and busied himself in cor- rupting the regiment of French guards, and in preparing the events of July 14th. Lafayette having menaced him with the tribunals if he did not leave France, he went over to England; but at the end of 528 BIOGEAPHICAL SKETCHES. eight months returned, and was received with transport by the Jacobins. In 1791 M. Thevenard, before he resigned the administration of the marine, caused the duke to be appointed admiral of France, for which the latter went to thank the King in person, and to assure him how gross- ly he had been misrepresented. When, however, he appeared at the levee, all the courtiers insulted him in the most outrageous manner, to which he would never be persuaded that their majesties were not privy, and this excited his irreconcilable enmity against them. On Sep- tember 15, 1792, the commune of Paris authorized him to assume the name of Egalite for himself and his descendants, and deputed him to the ISTational Convention. When the King's trial took place, the Duke of Orleans voted for the death of his cousin Avith a degree of coolness which irritated the majority of the Jacobins themselves, and excited murmurs throughout the Assembly. On the fatal day he came to the Place de Louis XV., and was present during the execution, in an open carriage; as soon as the body was removed, he returned to the Palais Royal, and went in a carriage drawn by six horses to revel at Kaincy with his accomplices. Towards the end of April, Robespierre caused his name to be erased from the list of Jacobins, though Egalite had sworn to the Convention, on the 4th of the same month, that if his son, who had just fled with Dumouriez, was guilty, the image of Brutus, which was before his eyes, would remind him of his duty. Soon after- wards a warrant was issued for his arrest ; he was removed to the prison of Marseilles, and, after six months' captivity, sent to take his trial at Paris. As a matter of course, the revolutionary tribunal found him guilty, and he was guillotined on j^ovember 6, 1793, when he was forty-six years of age. He shrugged his shoulders on hearing the people hiss and curse him as he was led to death, and cried out, " They used to applaud me." — From an article in the Biographie Moderne. OUDINOT, Charles ISTicholas, was born at Bar-sur-Ornain, April 25, 1767. From early youth he expressed a wish to becom.e a soldier, obtained a commission, and rose rapidly through the subordinate ranks, to be general of division. Oudinot distinguished himself under Hoche, Pichegru, ]\Ioreau, Massena, and Bonaparte, on the Rhine, in Switzer- land, and in Italy, and in 1804 was made count of the empire. His valor at Wagram procured him the liigher title of Duke of Reggio, and in 1809 he at length obtained the baton. In the Russian expedition he received many severe wounds, and greatly distinguished himself at Bautzen. On the Emperor's abdication he offered his services to Louis, Avho made him colonel-general of the grenadiers, and military governor of Metz. During the Hundred Days he resisted all Bonaparte's over- tures, and on the second restoration of the Bourbons was rewarded by the chief command of the Parisian national guard, a peerage, and a seat in the cabinet. Oudinot's last military service was in the inva- sion of Spain in 1823, where he exerted himself to arrest the fanatic BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 529 course of the advocates of despotism. lie died at Paris, September 13, 1847. — Cuurt and Camp of Bonaparte. PAG ERIE, JosKi'iiiXE Rose Tascher de la, Empress of the French, Quccu of Italv, was burn in Martinique in 1763. While very voung, her father took her to France to marry her to the \ iscouni Beauharnais. She was then in the prime of her beauty, and met witU great success at court. She bore her husband two children Eugene and Hortanse, an