W. O'C. Morris,
      The French Revolution,
      chapter 6.

   "The Prussians had remained wholly inactive for two months
   after the fall of Mayence, contenting themselves with watching
   the French in their lines at Weissenburg. Wearied at length by
   the torpor of his opponents, Moreau assumed the initiative,
   and attacked the Prussian corps at Pirmasens. This bold
   attempt was repulsed (September 14) with the loss of 4,000
   men; but it was not till a month later (October 13) that the
   Allies resumed the offensive, when the Weissenburg lines were
   stormed by a mixed force of Austrians and Prussians, and the
   French fled in confusion almost to Strasburg. But this
   important advantage led to no results, though the defeat of
   the Republican movement was hailed by a royalist movement in
   Alsace.
{1296}
   The Austrians, immovable in their plans of conquest, refused
   to occupy Strasburg in the name of Louis XVII.; and the
   unfortunate royalists, abandoned to Republican vengeance, were
   indiscriminately consigned to the guillotine by a decree of
   the Convention, while the confederate army was occupied in the
   siege of Landau. But the lukewarmness of the Prussians had now
   become so evident, that it was only by the most vehement
   remonstrances of the Austrian cabinet that they were prevented
   from seceding altogether from the league; and the Republicans,
   taking advantage of the disunion of their enemies, again
   attacked the Allies (December 26), who were routed and driven
   over the Rhine [abandoning the siege of Landau]; while the
   victors, following up their success, retook Spires, and
   advanced to the gates of Mannheim. The operations in the
   Pyrenees and on the side of Savoy, during this campaign, led
   to no important results. On the western extremity of the
   Pyrenees, the Spaniards [had] entered France in the middle of
   April, routed their opponents in several encounters, and drove
   them into St. Jean Pied-de-Poet. An invasion of Roussillon, at
   the same time, was equally successful; and the Spaniards
   maintained themselves in the province till the end of the
   year, taking the fortresses of Bellegarde and Collioure, and
   routing two armies which attempted to dislodge them, at Truellas
   (September 22) and Boulon (December 7). An attempt of the
   Sardinians to expel the French from their conquests in Savoy
   was less fortunate; and, at the close of the campaign, both
   parties remained in their former position."

      A. Alison,
      Epitome of History of Europe,
      pages 58-59 (chapter 13,
      volume 4 of complete work).

      ALSO IN:
      H. Von Sybel,
      History of the French Revolution,
      book 8, chapter 2 (volume 3).

      E. Baines,
      History of the Wars of the French Revolution,
      volume 1, chapters 9-11.

FRANCE: A. D. 1793 (August).
   Emancipation in San Domingo proclaimed.

      See HAYTI: A. D. 1632-1803.

FRANCE: A. D. 1793 (September-December).
   The "Reign of Terror" becomes the "Order of the Day."
   Trial and execution of Marie Antoinette, Madame Roland, and
   the Girondists.

   "On the 16th of September, the Faubourg Saint-Antoine
   surrounded the Hôtel de Ville, clamoring for 'Bread.' Hébert
   and Chaumette appeased the mob by vociferous harangues against
   rich men and monopolists, and by promising to raise a
   revolutionary army with orders to scour the country, empty the
   granaries, and put the grain within reach of the people. 'The
   next thing will he a guillotine for the monopolists,' added
   Hébert. This had been demanded by memorials from the most
   ultra provincial Jacobins. The next day the Convention
   witnessed the terrible reaction of this scene. At the opening
   of the session Merlin de Douai proposed and carried a vote for
   the division of the revolutionary tribunal into four sections,
   in order to remedy the dilatoriness complained of by
   Robespierre and the Jacobins. The municipality soon arrived,
   followed by a great crowd; Chaumette, in a furious harangue,
   demanded a revolutionary army with a travelling guillotine.
   The ferocious Billaud-Varennes declared that this was not
   enough, and that all suspected persons must be arrested
   immediately. Danton interposed with the powerful eloquence of
   his palmy days; he approved of an immediate decree for the
   formation of a revolutionary army, but made no mention of the
   guillotine. ... Danton's words were impetuous, but his ideas
   were politic and deliberate. His motions were carried, amid
   general acclamation. But the violent propositions of
   Billaud-Varennes and others were also carried. The decree
   forbidding domiciliary visits and night arrests, which had
   been due to the Girondists, was revoked. A deputation from the
   Jacobins and the sections demanded the indictment of the
   'monster' Brissot with his accomplices, Vergniaud, Gensonné,
   and other 'miscreants.' 'Lawgivers,' said the spokesman of the
   deputation, 'let the Reign of Terror be the order of the day!'
   Barère, in the name of the Committee of Public Safety,
   obtained the passage of a decree organizing an armed force to
   restrain counter-revolutionists and protect supplies. Fear led
   him to unite with the most violent, and to adopt the great
   motto of the Paris Commune, 'Let the Reign of Terror be the
   order of the day!' 'The royalists are conspiring,' he said;
   'they want blood. Well they shall have that of the
   conspirators, of the Brissots and Marie Antoinettes!' The
   association of these two names shows what frenzy prevailed in
   the minds of the people. The next day September 6, two of the
   most formidable Jacobins, the cold, implacable
   Billaud-Varennes and the fiery Collot d'Herbois, were added to
   the Committee of Public Safety. Danton persisted in his
   refusal to return to it. This proves how mistaken the
   Girondists had been in accusing him of aspiring to the
   dictatorship. He kept aloof from the Committee chiefly because
   he knew that they were lost, and did not wish to contribute to
   their fall. Before leaving the ministry Garat had tried to
   prevent the Girondists from being brought to trial; upon
   making known his wish to Robespierre and Danton, he found
   Robespierre implacable, while Danton, with tears coursing down
   his rugged cheeks replied, 'I cannot save them!' ... On the 10th
   of October Saint-Just, in the name of the Committee of Public
   Safety, read to the Assembly an important report upon the
   situation of the Republic. It was violent and menacing to
   others beside the enemies of the Mountain; Hébert and his gang
   might well tremble. He inveighed not only against those who
   were plundering the government, but against the whole
   administration. ... Saint-Just's report had been preceded on
   the 3d of October by a report from the new Committee of Public
   Safety, concluding with the indictment of 40 deputies; 39 were
   Girondists or friends of the Gironde; the fortieth was the
   ex-Duke of Orleans. Twenty-one of these 39 were now in the
   hands of their enemies, and of these 21 only 9 belonged to
   the first deputies indicted on the 2d of June; the remainder
   had left Paris hoping to organize outside resistance, and had
   been declared outlawed. The deputies subsequently added to
   this number were members of the Right who had signed protests
   against the violation of the national representation on that
   fatal day. ... It was decided at the same session to bring the
   40 deputies, together with Marie Antoinette, to trial. The
   Jacobins and the commune had long been demanding the trial of
   the unhappy queen, and were raising loud clamors over the
   plots for her deliverance.
{1297}
   She might perhaps have escaped from the Temple if she would
   have consented to leave her children. During July a sorrow
   equal to that of the 21st of January had been inflicted on
   her; she had been separated from her young son under the
   pretence that she treated him like a king, and was bringing
   him up to make 'a tyrant of him.' The child was placed in
   another part of the Temple, and his education was intrusted to
   a vulgar and brutal shoemaker, named Simon. Nevertheless the
   fate of Marie Antoinette at this epoch was still doubtful;
   neither the Committee of Public Safety nor the ministry
   desired her death. While Lebrun, the friend of the Girondists,
   was minister of foreign affairs, a project had been formed
   which would have saved her life. Danton knew of it and aided
   it. ... This plan was a negotiation with Venice, Tuscany, and
   Naples, the three Italian States yet neutral, who were to
   pledge themselves to maintain their wavering neutrality, in
   consideration of a guaranty of the safety of Marie Antoinette
   and her family. Two diplomatic agents who afterwards held high
   posts in France, Marat and Sémonville, were intrusted with
   this affair. As they were crossing from Switzerland into
   Italy, they were arrested, in violation of the law of nations,
   upon the neutral territory of the Grisons by an Austrian
   detachment (July 25). ... At tidings of the arrest of the
   French envoys, Marie Antoinette was separated from her
   daughter and sister-in-law Elizabeth, and transferred to the
   Conciergerie. On the 14th of October she appeared before the
   revolutionary tribunal. To the accusation of the public
   prosecutor, Fouquier-Tinville, made up of calumnies against
   her private life, and for the most part well-founded
   imputations against her political conduct, she opposed a
   plausible defence, which effaced as far as possible her part
   in the late government. ... The following questions were put
   to the jurors: 'Has Marie Antoinette aided in movements
   designed to assist the foreign enemies of the Republic to open
   French territory to them and to facilitate the progress of
   their arms? Has she taken part in a conspiracy tending to
   incite civil war?' The answer was in the affirmative, and the
   sentence of death was passed on her. The decisive portions
   which we now possess of the queen's correspondence with
   Austria had not then been made public; but enough was known to
   leave no doubt of her guilt, which had the same moral excuses
   as that of her husband. ... She met death [October 16] with
   courage and resignation. The populace who had hated her so
   much did not insult her last moments. ... A week after the
   queen's death the Girondists were summoned before the
   revolutionary tribunal. Brissot and Lasource alone had tried
   to escape this bloody ordeal, and to stir up resistance
   against it in the South. Vergniaud, Gensonné, and Valazé
   remained unshaken in their resolve to await trial. Gensonné,
   who had been placed in the keeping of a Swiss whose life he
   had saved on the 10th of August, and who had become a
   gendarme, might have escaped, but he refused to profit by this
   man's gratitude. ... The act of indictment drawn up by the
   ex-Feuillant Amar was only a repetition of the monstrous
   calumnies which had circulated through the clubs and the
   journals. Brissot was accused of having ruined the colonies by
   advocating the liberation of slaves, and of having drawn
   foreign arms upon France by declaring war on kings. The whole
   trial corresponded to this beginning. ... On the 29th the
   Jacobins appeared at the bar of the Convention, and called for
   a decree giving the jurors of the revolutionary tribunal the
   right to bring the proceedings to a close as soon as they
   believed themselves sufficiently enlightened. Robespierre and
   Barère supported the Jacobin demand. Upon Robespierre's motion
   it was decreed that after three days' proceedings, the jurors
   might declare themselves ready to render their verdict. The
   next day the jurors availed themselves of their privilege, and
   declared themselves sufficiently informed, although they had
   not heard the evidence for acquittal, neither the accused nor
   their counsel having been allowed to plead their cause.
   Brissot, Vergniaud, Gensonné, Valazé, Bishop Fauchet, Ducos,
   Boyer-Fonfrède, Lasource, and their friends were declared
   guilty of having conspired against the unity and
   indivisibility of the Republic, and against the liberty and
   safety of the French people. ... Danton, who had not been an
   accomplice in their death, had retired to his mother's home at
   Arcis-sur-Aube, that he might not be a witness thereof. The
   condemned were brought back to hear their sentence. The
   greater part of them rose up with a common impulse, and cried,
   'We are innocent! People, they are deceiving you!' The crowd
   remained motionless and silent. ... At midnight they partook
   of a last repast, passing the rest of the night in converse
   about their native land, their remnant of life being cheered
   by news of victory and pleasant sallies from young Ducos, who
   might have escaped, but preferred to share his friend
   Fonfréde's fate. Vergniaud had been given a subtle poison by
   Condorcet, but threw it away, choosing to die with his
   companions. One of his noble utterances gives us the key to
   his life. 'Others sought to consummate the Revolution by
   terror; I would accomplish it by love.' Next day, October 31,
   at noon, the prisoners were led forth, and as the five carts
   containing them left the Conciergerie, they struck up the
   national hymn ... and shouts of 'Long live the Republic.' The
   sounds died away as their number decreased, but did not cease
   until the last of the 21 mounted the fatal platform. ... The
   murderers of the Girondists were not likely to spare the
   illustrious woman who was at once the inspiration and the
   honor of that party, and the very same day Madame Roland who
   had been for five months a prisoner at St. Pelagie and the
   Abbaye, was transferred to the Conciergerie. Hébert and his
   followers had long clamored for her head. During her captivity
   she wrote her Memoirs, which unfortunately have not been
   preserved complete; no other souvenir of the Revolution equals
   this, although it is not always reliable, for Madame Roland
   had feminine weaknesses of intellect, despite her masculine
   strength of soul; she was prejudiced against all who disagreed
   with her, and regarded caution and compromise with a noble but
   impolitic scorn. ... The 18th Brumaire (November 10), she was
   summoned before the revolutionary tribunal; when she left her
   cell, clad in white, her dark hair, floating loosely over her
   shoulders, a smile on her lips and her face sparkling with
   life and animation. ...
{1298}
   She was condemned in advance, not being allowed a word in her
   own defence, and was declared guilty of being an author or
   accomplice 'of a monstrous conspiracy against the unity and
   indivisibility of the Republic.' She heard her sentence
   calmly, saying to the judges: 'You deem me worthy the fate of
   the great men you have murdered. I will try to display the
   same courage on the scaffold.' She was taken directly to the
   Place de la Revolution, a man condemned for treason being
   placed in the same cart, who was overwhelmed with terror. She
   passed the mournful journey in soothing him, and on reaching
   the scaffold bid him mount first, that his sufferings might
   not be prolonged. As she took her place in turn, her eye fell
   on a colossal statue of Liberty, erected August 10, 1793. 'O
   Liberty,' she cried, 'what crimes are committed in thy name!'
   Some say that she said, 'O Liberty, how they have deceived
   thee!' Thus died the noblest woman in history since the
   incomparable Joan, who saved France! ... The bloody tribunal
   never paused; famous men of every party succeeded each other
   at the fatal bar, the ex-Duke of Orleans among them, but four
   days earlier than Madame Roland. ... The day after Madame
   Roland's trial began that of the venerable Bailli, ex-mayor of
   Paris and ex-president of the Constituent Assembly, a man who
   played a great part early in the Revolution, but faded out of
   sight with the constituent power."

      Henry Martin,
      Popular History of France, 1789-1877,
      volume 1, chapter 16.

      ALSO IN
      A. de Lamartine,
      History of the Girondists,
      chapters 46-52 (volume 3).

      C. D. Yonge,
      Life of Marie Antoinette,
      chapter 39.

      Madame Campan,
      Memoirs of the Private Life of Marie Antoinette,
      volume 2, conclusion.

      S. Marceau,
      Reminiscences of a Regicide,
      chapter 11.

      Count Beugnot,
      Life,
      volume 1, chapter 6.

      Lord R. Gower,
      Last Days of Marie Antoinette.

FRANCE: A. D. 1793 (October).
   Life in Paris during the Reign of Terror.
   Gaiety in the Prisons.
   The Tricoteuses, or knitting women.
   Revolutionary costumes and modes of speech.
   The guillotine as plaything and ornament.

   "By the end of October, 1793, the Committee of General
   Security had mastered Paris, and established the Reign of
   Terror there by means of the Revolutionary Tribunal, and could
   answer to the Great Committee of Public Safety for the
   tranquillity of the capital. There were no more riots; men
   were afraid even to express their opinions, much less to
   quarrel about them; the system of denunciation made Paris into
   a hive of unpaid spies, and ordinary crimes, pocket-picking
   and the like, vanished as if by magic. Yet it must not be
   supposed that Paris was gloomy or dull; on the contrary, the
   vast majority of citizens seemed glad to have an excuse to
   avoid politics, of which they had had a surfeit during the
   last four years, and to turn their thoughts to the literary
   side of their favourite journals, to the theatres, and to art.
   ... The dull places of Paris were the Revolutionary
   Committees, the Jacobin Club, the Convention, the Hôtel de
   Brienne, where the Committee of General Security sat, and the
   Pavillon de l'Egalité, formerly the Pavillon de Flore, in the
   Tuileries, where the Great Committee of Public Safety
   laboured. ... Elsewhere men were lighthearted and gay,
   following their usual avocations, and busy in their pursuit of
   pleasure or of gain. It is most essential to grasp the fact
   that there was no particular difference, for the vast majority
   of the population, in living in Paris during the Reign of
   Terror and at other times. The imagination of posterity,
   steeped in tales of the tumbrils bearing their burden to the
   guillotine, and of similar stories of horror, has conceived a
   ghastly picture of life at that extraordinary period, and it
   is only after living for months amongst the journals, memoirs,
   and letters of the time that one can realize the fact that to
   the average Parisian the necessity of getting his dinner or
   his evening's amusement remained the paramount thought of his
   daily life. ... Strange to say, nowhere was life more happy
   and gay than in the prisons of Paris, where the inmates lived
   in the constant expectation that the haphazard chance of being
   brought before the Revolutionary Tribunal and condemned to
   death might befall them at any moment. ... A little more must
   be said about the market-women, the tricoteuses, or
   knitting-women of infamous memory. These market-women had been
   treated as heroines ever since their march to Versailles in
   October, 1789. ... They formed their societies after the
   fashion of the Jacobin Club, presided over by Renée Audu,
   Agnès Lefevre, Marie Louise Bouju, and Rose Lacombe, and went
   about the streets of Paris insulting respectably dressed
   people, and hounding on the sans-culottes to deeds of
   atrocity. These Mænads were encouraged by Marat, and played an
   important part in the street history of Paris, up to the Reign
   of Terror, when their power was suddenly taken from them. On
   May 21, 1793, they were excluded by a decree from the
   galleries of the Convention; on May 26 they were forbidden to
   form part of any political assembly; and when they appealed
   from the Convention to the Commune of Paris, Chaumette
   abruptly told them 'that the Republic had no need of Joans of
   Arc.' Thus deprived of active participation in politics, the
   market-women became the tricoteuses, or knitting-women, who
   used to take their seats in the Place de la Revolution, and
   watch the guillotine as they knitted. Their active power for
   good or harm was gone. ... Life during the Terror in Paris ...
   differed in little things, in little affectations of liberty
   and equality, which are amusing to study. The fashions of
   dress everywhere betrayed the new order of things. A few men,
   such as Robespierre, might still go about with powdered hair
   and in knee-breeches, but the ordinary male costume of the
   time was designed to contrast in every way with the costume of
   a dandy of the 'ancien régime.' Instead of breeches, the
   fashion was to wear trousers; instead of shoes, top-boots; and
   instead of shaving, the young Parisian prided himself on letting
   his moustache grow. In female costume a different motive was
   at work. Only David's art disciples ventured to imitate the
   male apparel of ancient Greece and Rome, but such imitation
   became the fashion among women. Waists disappeared; and
   instead of stiffened skirts and narrow bodices, women wore
   short loose robes, which they fancied resembled Greek chitons;
   sandals took the place of high-heeled shoes; and the hair,
   instead of being worked up into elaborate edifices, was
   allowed to flow down freely. For ornaments, gun-metal and
   steel took the place of gold, silver and precious stones. ...
   The favourite design was the guillotine.
{1299}
   Little guillotines were worn as brooches, as earrings and as
   clasps, and the women of the time simply followed the fashion
   without realizing what it meant. Indeed, the worship of the
   guillotine was one of the most curious features of the epoch.
   Children had toy guillotines given them; models were made to
   cut off imitation heads, when wine or sweet syrup flowed in
   place of blood; and hymns were written to La Sainte
   Guillotine, and jokes made upon it, as the 'national razor.'
   ... It is well known that the desire to emphasize the
   abolition of titles was followed by the abolition of the terms
   'Monsieur' and 'Madame,' and that their places were taken by
   'Citizen' and 'Citizeness;' and also how the use of the second
   person plural was dropped, and it was considered a sign of a
   good republican to tutoyer everyone, that is, to call them
   'thou' and 'thee.' ... The Reign of Terror in Paris seems to
   us an age of unique experiences, a time unparalleled in the
   history of the world; yet to the great majority of
   contemporaries it did not appear so; they lived their ordinary
   lives, and it was only in exceptional cases that the serenity
   of their days was interrupted, or that their minds were
   exercised by anything more than the necessity of earning their
   daily bread."

      H. M. Stephens,
      History of the French Revolution,
      volume 2, chapter 10.

      ALSO IN
      J. Michelet,
      Women of the French Revolution,
      chapters 20-30.

FRANCE: A. D. 1793 (October).
   The new republican calendar.

   "Before the year ended the legislators of Paris voted that
   there was no God, and destroyed or altered nearly everything
   that had any reference to Christianity. Robespierre, who would
   have stopped short at deism, and who would have preserved the
   external decencies, was overruled and intimidated by Hébert
   and his frowsy crew, who had either crept into the governing
   committees or had otherwise made themselves a power in the
   state. ... All popular journalists, patriots, and public
   bodies, had begun dating 'First Year of Liberty,' or 'First
   Year of the Republic;' and the old calendar had come to be
   considered as superstitious and slavish, as an abomination in
   the highest degree disgraceful to free and enlightened
   Frenchmen. Various petitions for a change had been presented;
   and at length the Convention had employed the mathematicians
   Romme and Monge, and the astronomer Laplace, to make a new
   republican calendar for the new era. These three philosophers,
   aided by Fabre d'Eglantine, who, as a poet, furnished the
   names, soon finished their work, which was sanctioned by the
   Convention and decreed into universal use as early as the 5th
   of October. It divided the year into four equal seasons, and
   twelve equal months of 30 days each. The five odd days which
   remained were to be festivals, and to bear the name of
   'Sansculottides.' ... One of these five days was to be
   consecrated to Genius, one to Industry, the third to Fine
   Actions, the fourth to Rewards, the fifth to Opinion. ... In
   leap-years, when there would be six days to dispose of, the
   last of those days or Sansculottides was to be consecrated to
   the Revolution, and to be observed in all times with all
   possible solemnity. The months were divided into three
   decades, or portions of ten days each, and, instead of the
   Christian sabbath, once in seven days, the décadi, or tenth
   day, was to be the day of rest. ... The decimal method of
   calculation ... was to preside over all divisions: thus,
   instead of our twenty-four hours to the day, and sixty minutes
   to the hour, the day was divided into ten parts, and the tenth
   was to be subdivided by tens and again by tens to the minutest
   division of time. New dials were ordered to mark the time in
   this new way, but, before they were finished, it was found
   that the people were puzzled and perplexed by this last
   alteration, and therefore this part of the calendar was
   adjourned for a year, and the hours, minutes and seconds were
   left as they were. As the republic commenced on the 21st of
   September close on the [autumnal] equinox, the republican year
   was made to commence at that season. The first month in the
   year (Fabre d'Eglantine being god-father to them all) was
   called Vendémiaire, or the vintage month, the second Brumaire,
   or the foggy month, the third Frimaire, or the frosty month.
   These were the three autumn months. Nivôse, Pluviôse, and
   Ventôse, or the snowy, rainy and windy, were the three winter
   months. Germinal, Floreal, and Prairial, or the bud month, the
   flower month, and the meadow month, formed the spring season.
   Messidor, Thermidor and Fructidor, or reaping month, heat
   month, and fruit month, made the summer, and completed the
   republican year. In more ways than one all this was calculated
   for the meridian of Paris, and could suit no other physical or
   moral climate. ... But the strangest thing about this
   republican calendar was its duration. It lasted till the 1st
   of January, 1806."

      C. Mac Farlane,
      The French Revolution,
      volume 4, volume 3.

   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.

   "While the alliance of the Great Powers was on the point of
   dissolution from selfishness and jealousy, the French, with an
   energy and determination, which, considering their
   unparalleled difficulties, were truly heroic, had assembled
   armies numbering nearly a million of men. The aggregate of the
   allied forces did not much exceed 300,000. The campaign on the
   Dutch and Flemish frontiers of France was planned at Vienna,
   but had nearly been disconcerted at the outset by the refusal
   of the Duke of York to serve under General Clairfait. ... The
   Emperor settled the difficulty by signifying his intention to
   take the command in person. Thus one incompetent prince who
   knew little, was to be commanded by another incompetent prince
   who knew nothing, about war; and the success of a great
   enterprise was made subservient to considerations of punctilio
   and etiquette. The main object of the Austrian plan was to
   complete the reduction of the frontier fortresses by the
   capture of Landrecy on the Sambre, and then to advance through
   the plains of Picardy on Paris;--a plan which might have been
   feasible the year before. ... The King of Prussia formally
   withdrew from the alliance [March 13]; but condescended to
   assume the character of a mercenary. In the spring of the
   year, by a treaty with the English Government, his Prussian
   Majesty undertook to furnish 62,000 men for a year, in
   consideration of the sum of £1,800,000, of which Holland, by a
   separate convention, engaged to supply somewhat less than a
   fourth part. The organisation of the French army was effected
   under the direction of Carnot. ... The policy of terror was
   nevertheless applied to the administration of the army.
   Custine and Houchard, who had commanded the last campaign, ...
   were sent to the scaffold, because the arms of the republic
   had failed to achieve a complete triumph under their
   direction. ... Pichegru, the officer now selected to lead the
   hosts of France, went forth to assume his command with the
   knife of the executioner suspended over his head. His orders
   were to expel the invaders from the soil and strongholds of
   the republic, and to reconquer Belgium. The first step towards
   the fulfilment of this commission was the recovery of the
   three great frontier towns, Condé, Valenciennes, and Quesnoy.
   The siege of Quesnoy was immediately formed; and Pichegru,
   informed of or anticipating the plans of the Allies, disposed
   a large force in front of Cambray, to intercept the operations
   of ... the allied army upon Landrecy. ... On the 17th
   [of April] a great action was fought in which the allies
   obtained a success, sufficient to enable them to press the
   siege of Landrecy. ... Pichegru, a few days after [April 26,
   at the redoubts of Troisville] sustained a signal repulse from
   the British, in an attempt to raise the siege of Landrecy; but
   by a rapid and daring movement, he improved his defeat, and
   seized the important post of Moucron. The results were, that
   Clairfait was forced to fall back on Tournay; Courtray and
   Menin surrendered to the French; and thus the right flanks of
   the Allies were exposed. Landrecy, which, about the same time,
   fell into the hands of the Allies, was but a poor compensation
   for the reverses in West Flanders. The Duke of York, at the
   urgent instance of the Emperor, marched to the relief of
   Clairfait; but, in the meantime, the Austrian general, being
   hard pressed, was compelled to fall back upon a position which
   would enable him for a time to cover Bruges, Ghent, and
   Ostend. The English had also to sustain a vigorous attack near
   Tournay; but the enemy were defeated with the loss of 4,000
   men. It now became necessary to risk a general action to save
   Flanders, by cutting off that division of the French army
   which had outflanked the Allies. By bad management and want of
   concert this movement, which had been contrived by Colonel
   Mack, the chief military adviser of the Emperor, was wholly
   defeated [at Tourcoign, May 18]. ... The French took 1,500
   prisoners and 60 pieces of cannon. A thousand English soldiers
   lay dead on the field, and the Duke [of York] himself escaped
   with difficulty. Four days after, Pichegru having collected a
   great force, amounting, it has been stated, to 100,000 men,
   made a grand attack upon the allied army [at Pont Achin]. ...
   The battle raged from five in the morning until nine at night,
   and was at length determined by the bayonet. ... In consequence
   of this check, Pichegru fell back upon Lisle." It was after
   this repulse that "the French executive, on the flimsy
   pretence of a supposed attempt to assassinate Robespierre,
   instigated by the British Government, procured a decree from
   the Convention, that no English or Hanoverian prisoners should
   be made. In reply to this atrocious edict, the Duke of York
   issued a general order, enjoining forbearance to the troops
   under his command. Most of the French generals ... refused to
   become assassins. ... The decree was carried into execution in
   a few instances only. ... The Allies gained no military
   advantage by the action of Pont Achin on the 22nd of May. ...
   The Emperor ... abandoned the army and retired to Vienna. He
   left some orders and proclamations behind him, to which nobody
   thought it worth while to pay any attention. On the 5th of June,
   Pichegru invested Ypres, which Clairfait made two attempts to
   retain, but without success. The place surrendered on the
   17th; Clairfait retreated to Ghent; Walmoden abandoned Bruges;
   and the Duke of York, forced to quit his position at Tournay,
   encamped near Oudenarde. It was now determined by the Prince
   of Coburg, who resumed the chief command after the departure
   of the Emperor, to risk the fate of Belgium on a general
   action, which was fought at Fleurus on the 26th of June. The
   Austrians, after a desperate struggle, were defeated at all
   points by the French army of the Sambre under Jourdan.
   Charleroi having surrendered to the French ... and the Duke of
   York being forced to retreat, any further attempt to save the
   Netherlands was hopeless. Ostend and Mons, Ghent, Tournay, and
   Oudenarde, were successively evacuated; and the French were