Part 425

The Republican Calendar for the Year Two of the Republic (September 22, 1793-Sept. 21, 1794) is synchronized with the Gregorian Calendar as follows: 1 Vendémiaire = September 22; 1 Brumaire = October 22; 1 Frimaire = November 21; 1 Nivôse = December 21; 1 Pluviôse = January 20; 1 Ventôse = February 19; 1 Germinal = March 21; 1 Floreal = April 20; 1 Prairial = May 20; 1 Messidor = June 19; 1 Thermidor = July 19; 1 Fructidor= August 18; 1st to 5th Sansculottides = September 17-21.

_H. M. Stephens, History of the French Revolution, volume 2, appendix 12._

ALSO IN _A. Thiers, History of the French Revolution (American edition), volume 2, pages 364-365._

FRANCE: A. D. 1793 (November). Abandonment of Christianity. The Worship of Reason instituted.

"The earliest steps towards a public abandonment of Christianity appear to have been taken by Fouché, the future minister of Police, and Duke of Otranto. … He published at Nevers (October 10, 1793) a decree" ordaining that "no forms of religious worship be practised except within their respective temples;" that "ministers of religion are forbidden, under pain of imprisonment, to wear their official costumes in any other places besides their temples;" and that the inscription, "Death is an eternal sleep," should be placed over the entrance to the cemetery. "This decree was reported to the municipality of Paris by Chaumette, the fanatical procureur of the Commune, and was warmly applauded. … The atheistical cabal of which he was the leader (his chief associates being the infamous Hébert, the Prussian baron Anacharsis Clootz, and Chabot, a renegade priest), now judged that public feeling was ripe for an avowed and combined onslaught on the profession of Christianity. … They decreed that on the 10th of November the 'Worship of Reason' should be inaugurated at Notre Dame. {1300} On that day the venerable cathedral was profaned by a series of sacrilegious outrages unparalleled in the history of Christendom. A temple dedicated to 'Philosophy' was erected on a platform in the middle of the choir. A motley procession of citizens of both sexes, headed by the constituted authorities, advanced towards it; on their approach, the Goddess of Reason, impersonated by Mademoiselle Maillard, a well known figurante of the opera, took her seat upon a grassy throne in front of the temple; a hymn, composed in her honour by the poet Chenier, was sung by a body of young girls dressed in white and bedecked with flowers; and the multitude bowed the knee before her in profound adoration. It was the 'abomination of desolation sitting in the holy place.' At the close of this grotesque ceremony the whole cortège proceeded to the hall of the Convention, carrying with them their 'goddess,' who was borne aloft in a chair of state on the shoulders of four men. Having deposited her in front of the president, Chaumette harangued the Assembly. … He proceeded to demand that the ci-devant metropolitical church should henceforth be the temple of Reason and Liberty; which proposition was immediately adopted. The 'goddess' was then conducted to the president, and he and other officers of the House saluted her with the 'fraternal kiss,' amid thunders of applause. After this, upon the motion of Thuriot, the Convention in a body joined the mass of the people, and marched in their company to the temple of Reason, to witness a repetition of the impieties above described. These demonstrations were zealously imitated in the other churches of the capital. … The interior of St. Eustache was transformed into a 'guinguette,' or place of low public entertainment. … At St. Gervais a ball was given in the chapel of the Virgin. In other churches theatrical spectacles took place. … Representatives of the people thought it no shame to quit their curule chairs in order to dance the 'carmagnole' with abandoned women in the streets attired in sacerdotal garments. On Sunday, the 17th of November, all the parish churches of Paris were closed by authority, with three exceptions. … Chaumette, at a sitting of the Commune on the 26th of November, called for further measures for the extermination of every vestige of Christian worship;" and the Council of the Commune, on his demand, ordered the closing of all churches and temples, of every religious denomination; made priests and ministers of religion responsible for any troubles that might arise from religious opinions, and commanded the arrest as a "suspect" of any person who should ask for the reopening of a church. "The example set by Paris, at this melancholy period, was faithfully repeated, if not surpassed in atrocity, throughout the provinces. Religion was proscribed, churches closed, Christian ordinances interdicted; the dreary gloom of atheistical despotism overspread the land. … These infamies were too monstrous to be tolerated for any length of time. … Robespierre, who had marked the symptoms of a coming reaction, boldly seized the opportunity, and denounced without mercy the hypocritical faction which disputed his own march towards absolute dictatorship."

_W. H. Jervis, The Gallican Church and the Revolution, chapter 7._

ALSO IN _A. de Lamartine, History of the Girondists, book 52 (volume 3)._

_T. Carlyle, The French Revolution, book 5, chapter 4 (volume 3)._

_E. de Pressense, Religion and the Reign of Terror, book 2, chapter 2._

FRANCE: A. D. 1793-1794 (October-April). The Terror in the Provinces. Republican vengeance at Lyons, Marseilles, Toulon, Bordeaux, Nantes. Fusillades and Noyades.

"The insurgents of Lyons, Marseilles, Toulon, and Bordeaux, were punished with pitiless severity. Lyons had revolted, and the convention decreed [October 12] the destruction of the city, the confiscation of the property of the rich, for the benefit of the patriots, and the punishment of the insurgents by martial law. Couthon, a commissioner well tried in cruelty, hesitated to carry into execution this monstrous decree, and was superseded by Collot d'Herbois and Fouché. Thousands of workmen were employed in the work of destruction: whole streets fell under their pickaxes: the prisons were gorged: the guillotine was too slow for revolutionary vengeance, and crowds of prisoners were shot, in murderous 'mitraillades.' … At Marseilles, 12,000 of the richest citizens fled from the vengeance of the revolutionists, and their property was confiscated, and plundered. When Toulon fell before the strategy of Bonaparte, the savage vengeance and cruelty of the conquerors were indulged without restraint. … The dockyard labourers were put to the sword: gangs of prisoners were brought out and executed by fusillades: the guillotine also claimed its victims: the sans-culottes rioted in confiscation and plunder. At Bordeaux, Tallien threw 15,000 citizens into prison. Hundreds fell under the guillotine; and the possessions and property of the rich were offered up to outrage and robbery. But all these atrocities were far surpassed in La Vendee. … The barbarities of warfare were yet surpassed by the vengeance of the conquerors, when the insurrection was, at last, overcome. At Nantes, the monster Carrier outstripped his rivals in cruelty and insatiable thirst for blood. Not contented with wholesale mitraillades, he designed that masterpiece of cruelty, the noyades; and thousands of men, women and children who escaped the muskets of the rabble soldiery were deliberately drowned in the waters of the Loire. In four months, his victims reached 15,000. At Angers, and other towns in La Vendee, these hideous noyades were added to the terrors of the guillotine and the fusillades."

_Sir T. E. May, Democracy in Europe, chapter 14._

"One begins to be sick of 'death vomited in great floods.' Nevertheless, hearest thou not, O Reader (for the sound reaches through centuries), in the dead December and January nights, over Nantes Town,—confused noises, as of musketry and tumult, as of rage and lamentation; mingling with the everlasting moan of the Loire waters there? Nantes Town is sunk in sleep; but Représentant Carrier is not sleeping, the wool-capped Company of Marat is not sleeping. Why unmoors that flatbottomed craft, that 'gabarre'; about eleven at night; with Ninety Priests under hatches? They are going to Belle Isle? In the middle of the Loire stream, on signal given, the gabarre is scuttled; she sinks with all her cargo. 'Sentence of Deportation,' writes Carrier, 'was executed vertically.' The Ninety Priests, with their gabarre-coffin, lie deep! It is the first of the Noyades [November 16], what we may call 'Drownages' of Carrier; which have become famous forever. {1301} Guillotining there was at Nantes, till the Headsman sank worn out: then fusillading 'in the Plain of Saint-Mauve;' little children fusilladed, and women with children at the breast; children and women, by the hundred and twenty; and by the five hundred, so hot is La Véndee: till the very Jacobins grew sick, and all but the Company of Marat cried, Hold! Wherefore now we have got Noyading; and on the 24th night of Frostarious year 2, which is 14th of December 1793, we have a second Noyade; consisting of '138 persons.' Or why waste a gabarre, sinking it with them? Fling them out; fling them out, with their hands tied: pour a continual hail of lead over all the space, till the last struggler of them be sunk! Unsound sleepers of Nantes, and the Sea-Villages there-abouts, hear the musketry amid the night-winds; wonder what the meaning of it is. And women were in that gabarre; whom the Red Nightcaps were stripping naked; who begged, in their agony, that their smocks might not be stript from them. And young children were thrown in, their mothers vainly pleading: 'Wolflings,' answered the Company of Marat, 'who would grow to be wolves.' By degrees, daylight itself witnesses Noyades: women and men are tied together, feet and feet, hands and hands; and flung in: this they call Mariage Républicain, Republican Marriage. Cruel is the panther of the woods, the she-bear bereaved of her whelps: but there is in man a hatred crueler than that. Dumb, out of suffering now, as pale swollen corpses, the victims tumble confusedly seaward along the Loire stream; the tide rolling them back: clouds of ravens darken the River; wolves prowl on the shoal-places: Carrier writes, 'Quel torrent révolutionnaire, What a torrent of Revolution!' For the man is rabid; and the Time is rabid. These are the Noyades of Carrier; twenty-five by the tale, for what is done in darkness comes to be investigated in sunlight: not to be forgotten for centuries. … Men are all rabid; as the Time is. Representative Lebon, at Arras, dashes his sword into the blood flowing from the Guillotine; exclaims, 'How I like it!' Mothers, they say, by his orders, have to stand by while the Guillotine devours their children: a band of music is stationed near; and, at the fall of every head, strikes up its 'Ça-ira.'"

_T. Carlyle, The French Revolution, volume 3, book 5, chapter 3._

ALSO IN _H. M. Stephens, History of the French Revolution, volume 2, chapter 11._

_H. A. Taine, The French Revolution, book 5, chapter 1, section 9 (volume 3)._

_Horrors of the Prison of Arras ("The Reign of Terror: A Collection of Authentic Narratives," volume 2)._

_Duchesse de Duras, Prison Journals during the French Revolution_

_A. des Echerolles, Early Life, volume 1, chapters 7-13, and volume 2, chapter l._

See, also, FRANCE: 1794 (JUNE-JULY).

FRANCE: A. D. 1793-1794 (November-June). The factions of the Mountain devour one another. Destruction of the Hebertists. Danton and his followers brought to the knife. Robespierre and the Committee of Public Safety. The Feast of the Supreme Being.

"Robespierre was unutterably outraged by the proceedings of the atheists. They perplexed him as a politician intent upon order, and they afflicted him sorely as an ardent disciple of the Savoyard Vicar. Hébert, however, was so strong that it needed some courage to attack him, nor did Robespierre dare to withstand him to the face. But he did not flinch from making an energetic assault upon atheism and the excesses of its partisans. His admirers usually count his speech of the 21st of November one of the most admirable of his oratorical successes. … 'Atheism [he said] is aristocratic. The idea of a great being who watches over oppressed innocence and punishes triumphant crime is essentially the idea of the people. This is the sentiment of Europe and the Universe; it is the sentiment of the French nation. That people is attached neither to priests, nor to superstitions, nor to ceremonies; it is attached only to worship in itself, or in other words to the idea of an incomprehensible Power, the terror of wrong-doers, the stay and comfort of virtue, to which it delights to render words of homage that are all so many anathemas against injustice and triumphant crime.' This is Robespierre's favourite attitude, the priest posing as statesman. … Danton followed practically the same line, though saying much less about it. 'If Greece,' he said in the Convention, 'had its Olympian games, France too shall solemnize her sans-culottid days. … If we have not honoured the priest of error and fanaticism, neither do we wish to honour the priest of incredulity: we wish to serve the people. I demand that there shall be an end of these anti-religious masquerades in the Convention.' There was an end of the masquerading, but the Hébertists still kept their ground. Danton, Robespierre, and the Committee were all equally impotent against them for some months longer. The revolutionary force had been too strong to be resisted by any government since the Paris insurgents had carried both king and assembly in triumph from Versailles in the October of 1789. It was now too strong for those who had begun to strive with all their might to build a new government out of the agencies that had shattered the old to pieces. For some months the battle which had been opened by Robespierre's remonstrance against atheistic intolerance, degenerated into a series of masked skirmishes. … Collot D'Herbois had come back in hot haste from Lyons. … Carrier was recalled from Nantes. … The presence of these men of blood gave new courage and resolution to the Hébertists. Though the alliance was informal, yet as against Danton, Camille Desmoulins, and the rest of the Indulgents, as well as against Robespierre, they made common cause. Camille Desmoulins attacked Hébert in successive numbers of a journal ['Le Vieux Cordelier'] that is perhaps the one truly literary monument of this stage of the revolution. Hébert retaliated by impugning the patriotism of Desmoulins in the Club, and the unfortunate wit, notwithstanding the efforts of Robespierre on his behalf, was for a while turned out of the sacred precincts. … Even Danton himself was attacked (December, 1793) and the integrity of his patriotism brought into question. Robespierre made an energetic defence of his great rival in the hierarchy of revolution. … Robespierre, in whom spasmodical courage and timidity ruled by rapid turns, began to suspect that he had been premature; and a convenient illness, which some supposed to have been feigned, excused his withdrawal for some weeks from a scene where he felt that he could no longer see clear. We cannot doubt that both he and Danton were perfectly assured that the anarchic party must unavoidably roll headlong into the abyss. {1302} But the hour of doom was uncertain. To make a mistake in the right moment, to hurry the crisis, was instant death. Robespierre was a more adroit calculator than Danton. … His absence during the final crisis of the anarchic party allowed events to ripen, without committing him to that initiative in dangerous action which he had dreaded on the 10th of August, as he dreaded it on every other decisive day of this burning time. The party of the Commune became more and more daring in their invectives against the Convention and the Committees. At length they proclaimed open insurrection. But Paris was cold, and opinion was divided. In the night of the 13th of March, Hébert, Chaumette, Clootz, were arrested. The next day Robespierre recovered sufficiently to appear at the Jacobin Club. He joined his colleagues of the Committee of Public Safety in striking the blow. On the 24th of March the Ultra-Revolutionist leaders were beheaded. The first bloody breach in the Jacobin ranks was speedily followed by the second. The Right wing of the opposition to the Committee soon followed the Left down the ways to dusty death, and the execution of the Anarchists only preceded by a week the arrest of the Moderates. When the seizure of Danton had once before been discussed in the Committee, Robespierre resisted the proposal violently. We have already seen how he defended Danton at the Jacobin Club. … What produced this sudden tack? … His acquiescence in the ruin of Danton is intelligible enough on the grounds of selfish policy. The Committee [of Public Safety] hated Danton for the good reason that he had openly attacked them, and his cry for clemency was an inflammatory and dangerous protest against their system. Now Robespierre, rightly or wrongly, had made up his mind that the Committee was the instrument by which, and which only, he could work out his own vague schemes of power and reconstruction. And, in any case, how could he resist the Committee? … All goes to show that Robespierre was really moved by nothing more than his invariable dread of being left behind, of finding himself on the weaker side, of not seeming practical and political enough. And having made up his mind that the stronger party was bent on the destruction of the Dantonists, he became fiercer than Billaud himself. … Danton had gone, as he often did, to his native village of Arcis-sur-Aube, to seek repose and a little clearness of sight in the night that wrapped him about. He was devoid of personal ambition; he never had any humour for mere factious struggles. … It is not clear that he could have done anything. The balance of force, after the suppression of the Hébertists, was irretrievably against him, as calculation had already revealed to Robespierre. … After the arrest, and on the proceedings to obtain the assent of the Convention to the trial of Danton and others of its members, one only of their friends had the courage to rise and demand that they should be heard at the bar. Robespierre burst out in cold rage; he asked whether they had undergone so many heroic sacrifices, counting among them these acts of 'painful severity,' only to fall under the yoke of a band of domineering intriguers; and he cried out impatiently that they would brook no claim of privilege, and suffer no rotten idol. The word was felicitously chosen, for the Convention dreaded to have its independence suspected, and it dreaded this all the more because at this time its independence did not really exist. The vote against Danton was unanimous, and the fact that it was so is the deepest stain on the fame of this assembly. On the afternoon of the 16th Germinal (April 5, 1794), Paris in amazement and some stupefaction saw the once dreaded Titan of the Mountain fast bound in the tumbril, and faring towards the sharp-clanging knife [with Camille Desmoulins and others]. 'I leave it all in a frightful welter,' Danton is reported to have said. 'Not a man of them has an idea of government. Robespierre will follow me; he is dragged down by me. Ah, better be a poor fisherman than meddle with the governing of men!' … After the fall of the anarchists and the death of Danton, the relations between Robespierre and the Committees underwent a change. He, who had hitherto been on the side of government, became in turn an agency of opposition. He did this in the interest of ultimate stability, but the difference between the new position and the old is that he now distinctly associated the idea of a stable republic with the ascendency of his own religious conceptions. … The base of Robespierre's scheme of social reconstruction now came clearly into view; and what a base! An official Supreme Being and a regulated Terror. … How can we speak with decent patience of a man who seriously thought that he should conciliate the conservative and theological elements of the society at his feet, by such an odious opera-piece as the Feast of the Supreme Being. This was designed as a triumphant ripost to the Feast of Reason, which Chaumette and his friends had celebrated in the winter. … Robespierre persuaded the Convention to decree an official recognition of the Supreme Being, and to attend a commemorative festival in honour of their mystic patron. He contrived to be chosen president for the decade in which the festival would fall. When the day came (20th Prairial, June 8, 1794), he clothed himself with more than even his usual care. As he looked out from the windows of the Tuileries upon the jubilant crowd in the gardens, he was intoxicated with enthusiasm. 'O Nature,' he cried, 'how sublime thy power, how full of delight! How tyrants must grow pale at the idea of such a festival as this!' In pontifical pride he walked at the head of the procession, with flowers and wheat-ears in his hand, to the sound of chants and symphonies and choruses of maidens. On the first of the great basins in the gardens, David, the artist, had devised an allegorical structure for which an inauspicious doom was prepared. Atheism, a statue of life size, was throned in the midst of an amiable group of human Vices, with Madness by her side, and Wisdom menacing them with lofty wrath. Great are the perils of symbolism. Robespierre applied a torch to Atheism, but alas, the wind was hostile, or else Atheism and Madness were damp. They obstinately resisted the torch, and it was hapless Wisdom who took fire. … The whole mummery was pagan. … It stands as the most disgusting and contemptible anachronism in history."

_J. Morley, Robespierre (Critical Miscellanies, Second Series)._

ALSO IN _T. Carlyle, The French Revolution, volume 3, book 6._

_G. H. Lewes, Life of Robespierre, chapters 19-20._

_L. Gronlund, Ça ira: or Danton in the French Revolution, chapter 6._

_J. Claretie, Camille Desmoulins and his Wife, chapters 5-6._

{1303}

FRANCE: A. D. 1794 (March-July). Withdrawal of Prussia from the European Coalition as an ally, to become a mercenary. Successes of the Republic. Conquest of the Austrian Netherlands. Advance to the Rhine. Loss of Corsica. Naval defeat off Ushant.