“If we could win Carnot over to us he would be an immense asset,” said Roger quickly.
Tallien nodded. “I would that we could; but I am in no position to do so. How about yourself? He has entrusted you with several missions, has he not?”
“Yes; but I can hardly think that my influence with him amounts to much.”
“Even so, if you feel that you could approach him without sticking your head right in a noose, it would be well worth attempting. Our task would be rendered far less hazardous if there were fewer National Guards in Paris, and Carnot is the only man who can get rid of them.”
Having thought the matter over very carefully, Roger went to see Carnot next morning. After a few minutes’ polite conversation, he said, “I am told, Citizen General, that Citizen Saint-Just saw fit to cancel the reinforcements you had designed for the support of Admiral Venstabel in the island of Walcheren. I am come to propose to you a measure which might fill that gap.”
“Indeed!” replied Carnot with swift sarcasm. “On occasions it brightens my day to hear civilians express their views on military matters; pray do not be bashful in expressing yours.”
“It is,” said Roger quietly, “that although the Law requires you to keep certain troops in Paris, I see no reason why a battery of artillery should remain kicking their heels in every one of the forty-eight Sections. Would it not be a sound move to send half of them to the Front?”
Carnot knew, and Roger knew, that in every insurrection for the past five years it had always been the gunners who had displayed the most violent sentiments, and led the other troops to participate in anarchy and terrorism. Under the thin but adequate cover of military operations, Roger had suggested that Paris should be made safer for an anti-terrorist coup d’état.
Lazare Carnot rubbed his crooked nose thoughtfully, and said, “I feel, Citizen, that the value of such a measure against the Dutch is highly debatable, but it might well be justified on other grounds.”
Emboldened by this reaction, Roger murmured, “France cannot afford to lose a man like yourself in a political purge, Citizen General; and those who appreciate your great qualities might fail in their efforts to protect you if there were too many gunners about.” Then, without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out of the office.
He spent the rest of the day in great suspense, fearful that he might have overstepped the mark; but by evening he was able to breathe freely again. Loath as Carnot was to interfere in domestic affairs, he had seen the red light; the fifteen batteries of artillery in the most dangerous Sections had been ordered to leave Paris that night.
The move instantly aroused the suspicions of the Robes-pierrists. Next day the Jacobins sent a deputation to protest to the Convention that the departure of these “patriot” troops threatened the people’s liberties. Then Couthon rose and hinted darkly that drastic steps must be taken against “intrigues”. Dubois-Crancé followed him and flung down a challenge by demanding a full investigation into his own conduct. Barère intervened to read a long report; but it was now clear that the explosion could not be long delayed.
The following morning Roger drew from Thellussons’ Bank the remainder of the gold that de Batz had left there at his disposal, and took most of it out to Passy. He also bought from an apothecary a bottle of opium pellets, as he thought he might need these, as well as a large sum of money, for a private coup he was planning.
This last week of July coincided in the Revolutionary calendar with the first decade of Thermidor, the month of heat, and Paris now lay grilling under a brazen sun. Through the dust and stench of the unswept streets the tumbrels continued to rumble with their cargoes for the guillotine. Among the latest victims was the great gutter-born courtesan, Madame du Barry. Her crime was that three years earlier, learning that the Queen was in difficulties for money, she had nobly ignored the many slights Marie Antoinette had put upon her, and had written to offer her a million francs’ worth of jewels, with the words, “All I have I owe to the Royal Family, Madame; so it is only right that now they are needed I should return them.” Another was Lavoisier, France’s greatest scientist. He had asked that his execution might be postponed for a fortnight to enable him to complete an important experiment. Coffinhal, the Vice-President of the Tribunal, had replied, “The Republic has no need for scholars or chemists,” and sent him to die. The executions in July had already far exceeded those of June, but this was not enough; arrangements were being made to double the number in the coming month.
Everyone was now aware that a coalition was forming against Robespierre; but his power was immense and he was received with a hushed silence when, next day, he appeared in the Convention to make his will known. He complained first that his great work for the Revolution was being hampered by lack of support in both Comités, then made a scathing survey of all the Government Departments, belittling Carnot’s contribution to the victories of the Army, and castigating Cambon’s handling of the finances.
Cambon rose to defend himself, and cried boldly, “It is high time the whole truth was told. Is it I who deserve to be accused of having made myself master in any way? No—the man who has made himself master of everything, the man who paralyses your will, is the man who has just spoken—Robespierre!”
Greatly disconcerted, Robespierre replied that he came there only to unveil abuses, and not to accuse any particular person. At this there arose angry cries of “Name the individuals! Speak the truth! Name those whose heads you are planning to take from them!”
The uproar was quelled by the President, and a violent argument ensued whether Robespierre’s speech should be printed, as was customary with all important declarations; but on this occasion the vote went against it, which amounted to a flagrant insult. For the first time since the fall of the Girondins, the Convention had rebelled against its master.
Robespierre and his friends hastened to their stronghold, the Jacobin Club, where they received a great ovation. He read his speech again to thunderous applause, and Couthon proposed the immediate proscription of all the deputies who had voted against Robespierre that evening. Dumas, Coffinhal and Payen surrounded him, urging him to assert his authority by force of arms, while Hanriot declared himself ready to lead the National Guard against the Convention; but Robespierre, ever timorous when it came to taking drastic action, could not bring himself to accept their counsel.
During the day, Barère, realising the danger in which the whole Comité stood, had made a desperate attempt to reconcile its members, and so bring Collot and Billaud to Robespierre’s support; but they would not listen to him. The gloomy Billaud held aloof, while Collot showed signs of going over to the rebels. Collot now appeared at the Jacobins, boldly thrust his way in, and attempted to speak; but the members, having got wind of his treachery, howled him down and threatened him with their knives. He was lucky to escape with his life.
At length it was decided that Robespierre should go to the Convention again next day, the Jacobins should assemble in their Hall, the Commune should hold a session at the Hôtel de Ville, and Hanriot should order out the National Guard; so that all three bodies would be ready to aid the “Father of the Country” if a further attack was made upon him.
During the night the Comité was in session. Saint-Just was due to present his report next day; Collot, fresh from his roughhandling at the Jacobins, demanded that the report should be read. Saint-Just said he had not got it on him and a violent scene took place, in which Collot declared that the report had for its object the murder of them all. To pacify him, Saint-Just promised to read it to the Comité the following morning, before submitting it to the Convention.
The 9th Thermidor dawned with promise of stifling heat. Through the sultry streets the deputies made their way to the Convention; from fear of arrest few of the prominent ones had slept in their own apartments. Roger, ignoring his duty to the Commune, also went to the Convention, where he learned that several of his secret associates had spent most of the previous night calling on
deputies of the Plain in an attempt to win them over. In the entrance hall he found Tallien haranguing a group; he promised to make the first attack and urged them to stand by him.
At half-past eleven Saint-Just entered. On seeing him, Tallien exclaimed to his friends, “This is the moment!” They all crowded into the Chamber, and Roger went to the Municipal box, where he found a number of his own colleagues who had also ignored the summons to the Hôtel de Ville in order to witness the coming battle. Saint-Just had not, as he had promised, read his report to the two Comités, which was hardly to be wondered at, for as he now read it from the tribune, it proved to be a denunciation of them. Before he could finish it, Tallien interrupted him on a point of order, seized the tribune and shouted that the time had come for the representatives of the People to get at the real truth.
This provoked a roar of applause. It chanced that it had fallen to Collot’s turn to act as President that day; still smarting from the Robespierrists’ treatment of him at the Jacobins the previous night, he refused to let Saint-Just continue. There followed a long wrangle, during which a dozen people tried to speak at once.
At about one o’clock, Billaud, who had been waiting about at the Comité’s office to hear the promised private reading of Saint-Just’s report, came hurrying in; Collot promptly gave his colleague the tribune. Billaud then accused the Jacobins of holding seditious meetings with intent to slaughter the Convention. Shouts of indignation rent the air. Continuing, Billaud openly accused Robespierre of conspiring to become Dictator.
Robespierre, who had been sitting with his brother, Le Bas, and Couthon, now left his seat and, livid with rage, endeavoured to mount the tribune. At the sight of him cries came from all parts of the hall, “Down with the tyrant! Down with the tyrant!”
Tallien rushed forward again, brandished a dagger before Robespierre’s face and cried, “Last night at the Jacobins I saw the Army of this new Cromwell formed. Unless this assembly has the courage to pass a decree of accusation against him, I will slay him myself.”
His last words were almost drowned by a tempest of cheering, and, wild with excitement, more than half the deputies were now on their feet.
At length Barére obtained a hearing, and made a speech that occupied much of the afternoon. The arch-trimmer, assessing that the battle was going against Robespierre, attacked him, but only indirectly, by ending with a proposal that, as Hanriot had threatened the Convention, he should be deprived of his command of the National Guard. A vote was taken and this was agreed. Then Robespierre again endeavoured to get a hearing, and looked like succeeding.
Seeing this, Roger was quick to realise the danger. Robespierre had dominated the Convention for so long that three-quarters of its members had formed the habit of subservience to him from fear of their lives; if he were allowed to address them there was an awful risk that a majority would wilt under the lash of his tongue and that he might still emerge triumphant. Leaning forward from the box, Roger yelled:
“Don’t let him speak! Don’t let him speak!”
The cry was taken up by Bourdon, Merlin, Légendre, Guffory, Fréron, Rovère and a dozen others. Then it changed to “Accusation! Arrest! Accusation! Arrest! Accusation! Arrest!”
Had Robespierre, Couthon or Saint-Just been a Danton, they might yet have saved their party; but all three were physical weaklings, and Robespierre’s naturally thin, shrill voice could not be heard among the clamour. A deputy named Louchet bawled above the din, “I accuse Robespierre! Who will second me?”
“I will!” replied a chorus of a hundred voices.
Amidst a tremendous uproar the vote was taken. By an overwhelming majority Robespierre’s arrest was decreed, together with that of Couthon, Saint-Just, Le Bas and the younger Robespierre—the last two owing to their own courageous decision to share the fate of their leader. Yet the ushers were so thunderstruck that they could not bring themselves to lay hands on the accused, until scores of shouting members demanded that they be brought to the bar of the house.
Saint-Just’s report, the speeches of Billaud and Barére, the constant interruptions, the voting and the fights to get possession of the tribune, had eaten up the day; so it was five o’clock before the prisoners were taken into custody. They were marched away to the sound of shouts, jeers and most frantic excitement; then the President decreed a two-hour break, in order that the deputies might recover a little of their calm before proceeding to further business.
Roger watched the sitting break up in alarm, as he felt that with the Commune, the Jacobins and the National Guard all standing by to assist Robespierre, the crisis was far from over. With several of his companions in the Municipal box, he hurried to the Hôtel de Ville to see what was going on there. The Commune, having been sitting all day, had also just decreed a recess; but by six o’clock the news of the arrests was all over the city, and a number of the Commissioners came hurrying back into the hall, filled with consternation. The sitting reopened with furious demands for an attack on the Convention; an order was given for the tocsin to be rung and the Sections raised to rescue the champions of liberty.
The tocsin had hardly begun to clang when it was learned that the triumvirate were in no need of rescue. Either through stupidity or treachery they had been taken to the Mairie, which was an adjunct of the Hôtel de Ville; so, in effect, they were prisoners no longer, but were among friends. On hearing this, Roger slipped quickly out of the building. He had compromised himself so deeply at the Convention that, now it seemed certain that Robespierre was coming out on top, any of the Municipals who had been with him in the box might, at any moment, attempt to save their own skins by denouncing him.
In the streets, he found everything in confusion. The National Guard were temporarily leaderless, as Hanriot had been arrested. The men were holding meetings, some passionately arguing for one side, some for the other. While the evening light lingered Roger moved from group to group, attempting to assess popular feeling, and it seemed to be about fifty-fifty.
At nine o’clock he returned to the Convention, where he learned to his dismay that, half an hour earlier, Hanriot had escaped from custody. On the other hand the deputies, now realising that their lives were at stake, were determined to make a fight for it. Barras was appointed commander of the armed forces, and with twelve others sent to raise the loyal Sections. At eleven o’clock it was learned that Robespierre and his friends had left the Mairie and gone to the Hôtel de Ville. By so doing they had broken their arrest; so a decree was at once passed declaring them outlaws.
No sooner had this been done than a man burst into the Chamber with the news that Hanriot was advancing against it with his National Guards, and that cannon were being trained on the Convention. The brutal Collot then showed great bravery. Seating himself at the end of the hall which would receive the first shots, he cried, “Representatives, the moment has come for us to die at our posts!”
Many of the deputies followed his example; but others, with more practical sense, ran out of the building to the Place du Carrousel, where the battery was drawn up. In impassioned terms they argued with the gunners; the gunners gave way, and when Hanriot ordered them to fire they refused to do so. Hanriot, abandoned by his men, turned his horse about and galloped back to seek shelter in the Hôtel de Ville.
All central Paris was now in turmoil and confusion; so Roger decided to go to his own Section and raise a score or so men he could rely on. By one o’clock in the morning he was back with them at one of the approaches to the Hôtel de Ville, but the whole square before it was blocked by a crowd, mainly composed of sansculottes, who were shouting, “Down with the Convention!”
As his uniform of a Commissioner protected him from attack, he squeezed his way through them, and found that all the other approaches to the square were now jammed with partisans of the Convention, who had been raised and brought there by Barras and the deputies who had been nominated to aid him. No fighting had yet broken out, but on all sides the most furious arguments were in prog
ress. Eventually the affair was decided by Barras bringing up the gunners who had deserted Hanriot, and persuading them to turn their pieces on the Hôtel de Ville. The crowd dissolved, and the partisans of the Convention rushed towards its entrances.
Roger, knowing the building so well, led his party through a side door. Dashing upstairs, they burst into the great Chamber. Robespierre was standing by the dais with his friends grouped about him. Had he acted with decision a few hours earlier the Convention could not possibly have survived, and the dawn of the 28th of July would have found him the absolute master of France. As it was, he had let the fateful night slip by, inveighling against his enemies and making vain boasts of the vengeance he would take on them. Many of his supporters had been stricken with terror on learning that the Convention had passed a decree outlawing him and his associates. Only forty members of the Commune had remained to stand by him to the last; the rest had gone over to the Convention on first learning of his arrest, or had since slipped away to go into hiding.
As Roger entered by one door Hanriot dashed in at another; he had just been down to the main entrance and found his own gunners aiming their pieces at the building. To keep up his courage he had been drinking heavily. Lurching forward, he cried, “All is lost! Even the sans-culottes have betrayed us!”
Owing to the warmth of the night the lower sashes of the big windows were open. With a scream of fury Coffinhal seized Hanriot round the waist and yelled, “Villain! It is to your stupidity we owe this!” and, lifting him up, hurled him out of one of the windows. At the same moment Augustin Robespierre threw himself out of another.
Hard on Hanriot’s heels, Barras’s men streamed into the Chamber and joined with Roger’s party in seizing the Robes-pierrists. Couthon was dragged from beneath a table. Le Bas drew a pistol and blew out his brains. A second shot sounded. Robespierre had also attempted to take his life but lacked the courage to hold the pistol steady; the bullet partially shattered his jaw, leaving him in agony but still fully conscious. For a few moments the Chamber was a scene of wild confusion, but no serious resistance was offered; by three o’clock in the morning the triumph of the Convention was complete.
The Man who Killed the King Page 64