He invented a long and malicious accusation in which he represented the Girondins seeking first to make a tool of Narbonne, the minister, then, after ejecting Narbonne, occupying three ministerial departments at once, bringing about the 20th of June to encourage their creatures, opposing the 10th of August, because they were hostile to the republic; lastly, pursuing invariably a preconcerted plan of ambition, and, what was more atrocious than all the rest, suffering the massacres of September, and the robbery of the Garde Meuble, for the purpose of ruining the reputation of the patriots. "If they had consented," said Chabot, "I would have saved the prisoners. Petion gave the murderers money for drink, and Brissot would not suffer them to be stopped, because in one of the prisons there was an enemy of his, Morande."

Such are the vile wretches who calumniate good men, as soon as power has given them the signal to do so. The moment the leaders have cast the first stone, all the reptiles that crawl in the mud, rise and overwhelm the victim. Fabre d'Eglantine, who, like Chabot, had become suspected of stockjobbing, and was anxious to regain his popularity, made a more cautious but likewise a more perfidious deposition, in which he insinuated that the intention of suffering the massacres and the robbery of the Garde Meuble to be perpetrated had most probably entered into the policy of the Girondins. Vergniaud, ceasing to defend himself, exclaimed with indignation, "I am not bound to justify myself against the charge of being the accomplice of robbers and murderers.

No precise fact, however, was alleged against the accused. They were charged with nothing but opinions publicly maintained, and they replied that these opinions might have been erroneous, but that they had a right to think as they pleased. It was objected to them that their doctrines were not the result of an involuntary, and therefore an excusable, error, but of a plot hatched at Roland's and at Valazé's. Again they replied, that, so far were these doctrines from being the effect of any concert among them, that they were not even agreed upon every point. One said, I did not vote for the appeal to the people; another, I did not vote for the departmental guard; a third, I was against the course pursued by the commission of twelve; I disapproved the arrest of Hebert and Chaumette. All this was true enough; but then the defence was no longer common. The accused seemed almost to abandon one another, and to condemn those measures in which they had taken no part. Boileau carried his anxiety to clear himself to extreme weakness. He even covered himself with disgrace. He admitted that there had existed a conspiracy against the unity and the indivisibility of the republic; that he was now convinced of this, and declared it to justice; that he could not point out the guilty persons, but that he wished for their punishment; and he proclaimed himself a stanch Mountaineer. Gardien had also the weakness to disavow completely the commission of twelve. However, Gensonné, Brissot, Vergniaud, and more especially Valazé, corrected the bad effect of the conduct of their two colleagues. They admitted indeed that they had not always thought alike, and that consequently their opinions were not preconcerted; but they disavowed neither their friendship nor their doctrines. Valazé frankly confessed that meetings had been held at his house; and maintained that they had a right to meet and to enlighten each other with their ideas, like any other citizens. When, lastly, their connivance with the fugitives was objected to them, they denied it. "What!" exclaimed Hebert; "the accused deny the conspiracy! When the senate of Rome had to pronounce upon the conspiracy of Catiline, if it had questioned each conspirator and been content with a denial, they would all have escaped the punishment which awaited them; but the meetings at Catiline's, the flight of the latter, and the arms found at Lecca's, were material proofs, and they were sufficient to determine the judgment of the senate."-" Very well," replied Brissot, " I accept the comparison made between

Fabre d'Eglantine was an ardent promoter and panegyrist of the revolutionary system, and the friend, the companion, the adviser of the proconsuls, who carried throughout France, fire and sword, devastation and death. I do not know whether his hands were stained by the lavishing of money not his own, but I know that he was a promoter of assassinations. Poor before the 2d of September, 1792, he had afterwards an hotel and carriages and servants and women; his friend Lacroix assisted him to procure this retinue."-Mercier. E.

us and Catiline. Cicero said to him, Arms have been found at thy house; the ambassadors of the Allobroges accuse thee; the signatures of Lentulus, of Cethegus, and of Statilius, thy accomplices, prove thy infamous projects.' Here the senate accuses us, it is true, but have arms been found upon us? Are there signatures to produce against us?"

Unfortunately there had been discovered letters sent to Bordeaux by Vergniaud, which expressed the strongest indignation. A letter from a cousin of Lacase had also been found, in which the preparations for the insurrection were mentioned; and, lastly, a letter from Duperret to Madame Roland had been intercepted, in which he stated that he had heard from Buzot and Barbaroux, and that they were preparing to punish the outrages committed in Paris. Vergniaud, on being questioned replied, "Were I to acquaint you with the motives which induced me to write, perhaps I should appear to you more to be pitied than censured. Judging from the plots of the 10th of March, I could not help thinking that a design to murder us was connected with the plan for dissolving the national representation. Marat wrote to this effect on the 11th of March. The petitions since drawn up against us with such acrimony have confirmed me in this opinion. It was under these circumstances that my soul was wrung with anguish, and that I wrote to my fellow-citizens that I was under the knife. I exclaimed against the tyranny of Marat. He was the only person whom I mentioned. I respect the opinion of the people concerning Marat, but to me Marat was a tyrant." At these words one of the jury rose and said, " Vergniaud complains of having been persecuted by Marat. I shall observe that Marat has been assassinated, and that Vergniaud is still here." This silly observation was applauded by part of the auditory, and all the frankness, all the sound reasoning of Vergniaud, were thrown away upon the blind multitude.

Vergniaud, however, had succeeded in gaining attention, and recovered all his eloquence in expatiating on the conduct of his friends, on their devotedness, and on their sacrifices to the republic. The whole audience had been moved; and this condemnation, though commanded, no longer seemed to be irrevocable. The trial had lasted several days. The Jacobins, enraged at the tardiness of the tribunal, addressed to the Convention a fresh petition praying it to accelerate the proceedings. Robespierre caused a decree to be passed, authorizing the jury, after three days' discussion, to declare themselves sufficiently enlightened, and to proceed to judgment without hearing anything further. And to render the title more conformable with the thing, it was moreover decided on his motion, that the name of extraordinary tribunal should be changed to that of REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL.

Though this decree was passed, the jury durst not avail themselves of it immediately, and declared that they were not satisfied. But on the following day they made use of their new power to cut short the discussions, and insisted that they should be closed. The accused had already lost all hope, and were resolved to die nobly. They repaired with serene aspect to the last sitting of the tribunal. While they were being searched at the door of the Conciergerie, to ascertain that they had about them no implements of destruction with which they might put an end to their lives, Valazé, giving a pair of scissors to Riouffe, in the presence of the gendarmes, said, "Here, my friend, is a prohibited weapon. We must not make any attempts on our lives."

On the 30th of October, at midnight, the jury entered to pronounce their verdict. The countenance of Antonelle, their foreman, bespoke the violence of his feelings. Camille-Desmoulins, on hearing the verdict pronounced, cried out, "Ah! 'tis I who am the death of them; 'tis my Brissot dévoilé!* Let me begone!" he added, and rushed out in despair. The accused were brought in. On hearing the fatal word pronounced, Brissot dropped his arms, and his head suddenly drooped upon his breast. Gensonné would have said a few words on the application of the law, but could not obtain a hearing. Sillery, letting fall his crutches, exclaimed, "This is the most glorious day of my life!" Some hopes had been conceived for the

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two young brothers, Ducos and Fonfrède, who had appeared to be less compromised, and who had attached themselves to the Girondins, not so much from conformity of opinion, as from admiration of their character and their talents. They were nevertheless condemned like the others. Fonfrède embraced Ducos, saying, "Brother, it is I who am the cause of your death." -" Be of good cheer," replied Ducos, " we shall die together." The Abbé Fauchet, with downcast look, seemed to pray; Carra retained his unfeeling air; Vergniaud's whole figure wore an ex pression of pride and disdain; Lasource repeated the saying of one of the ancients: " I die on the day when the people have lost their reason. You will die on that when they shall have recovered it." The weak Boileau and the weak Gardien were not spared. The former, throwing his hat into the air, exclaimed, "I am innocent."-" We are innocent," repeated all the accused; "people, they are deceiving you!" Some of them had the imprudence to throw some assignats about, as if to induce the multitude to take their part, but it remained unmoved. The gendarmes then surrounded them for the purpose of conducting them back to their prison. One of the condemned suddenly fell at their feet. They lifted him up streaming with blood. It was Valazé, who, when giving his scissors to Riouffe, had kept a dagger, with which he had stabbed himself. The tribunal immediately decided that his body should be carried in a cart after the condemned. As they left the court, they struck up all together, by a spontaneous movement, the hymn of the Marseillais,

Contre nous de la tyrannie
Le couteau sanglant est levé.

Their last night was sublime. Vergniaud was provided with poison. He threw it away, that he might die with his friends. They took a last meal together, at which they were by turns merry, serious, and eloquent. Brissot and Gensonné were grave and pensive; Vergniaud spoke of expiring liberty in the noblest terms of regret, and of the destination of man with persuasive eloquence. Ducos repeated verses which he had composed in prison, and they all joined in singing hymns to France and liberty.

Next day, the 31st of October, an immense crowd collected to see them pass. On their way to the scaffold, they repeated that hymn of the Marseillais which our soldiers sung when marching against the enemy. On reaching the Place de la • Révolution, having alighted from their carts, they embraced one another, shouting Vive la République! Sillery first mounted the scaffold, and, after gravely bowing to the people, in whom he still respected frail and misguided humanity, he received the fatal stroke. All of them followed Sillery's example, and died with the same dignity. In thirty-one minutes the executioner had despatched these illustrious victims, and thus destroyed in a few moments youth, beauty, virtue, talents!

Such was the end of those noble and courageous citizens, who fell a sacrifice to their generous Utopia. Comprehending neither human nature, nor its vices, nor the means of guiding it in a revolution, they were indignant because it would not be better, and, in persisting to thwart it, they caused it to devour themselves. Respect to their memory! Never were such virtues, such talents, displayed in the civil wars; and, to their glory be it said, if they did not comprehend the necessity of violent means for saving the cause of France, most of their adversaries who preferred those means, decided from passion rather than from genius. Above them could be placed only such of the Mountaineers as had decided in favour of revolutionary means out of policy alone, and not from the impulse of hatred.

No sooner had the Girondins expired, than fresh victims were sacrificed. The sword rested not for a moment. On the 2d of November the unfortunate Olympe de Gouges was executed for writings called counter-revolutionary, and Adam Luxe, deputy of Mayence, accused of the same crime. On the 6th, the hapless Duke of Orleans, transferred from Marseilles to Paris, was brought before the revolutionary

* "The court ordered that the bloody corpse of the suicide Valazé should be borne on a tumbrel to the place of execution, and beheaded with the other prisoners." -Lacretelle. E.

tribunal, and condemned on account of the suspicions which he had excited in all the parties. Odious to the emigrants, suspected by the Girondins and the Jacobins, he inspired none of those regrets which afford some consolation for an unjust death. More hostile to the court than enthusiastic in favour of the republic, he felt not that conviction which gives support at the critical moment; and of all the victims he was the one least compensated and most to be pitied. A universal disgust, an absolute scepticism, were his last sentiments, and he went to the scaffold with extraordinary composure and indifference. As he was drawn along the Rue St. Honoré, he beheld his palace with a dry eye, and never belied for a moment his disgust of men and of life.* Coustard, his aide-de-camp, a deputy like himself, shared his fate.

Two days afterwards, Roland's interesting and courageous wife followed them to the scaffold. Combining the heroism of a Roman matron with the graces of a Frenchwoman, this female had to endure all sorts of afflictions. She loved and reverenced her husband as a father. She felt for one of the proscribed Girondins a vehement passion, which she had always repressed. She left a young and orphan daughter to the care of friends. Trembling for so many and such dear objects, she considered the cause of liberty to which she was enthusiastically attached, and for which she had made such great sacrifices, as for ever ruined. Thus she suffered in all her affections at once. Condemned as an accomplice of the Girondins, she heard her sentence with a sort of enthusiasm, seemed to be inspired from the moment of her condemnation to that of her execution, and excited a kind of religious admiration in all who saw her. She went to the scaffold dressed in white. She exerted herself the whole way to cheer the spirits of a companion in misfortune who was to perish with her, and who had not the same courage; and she even succeeded so far as twice to draw from him a smile. On reaching the place of execution, she bowed to the statue of liberty, exclaiming, "O Liberty, what crimes are they committing in thy name!" She then underwent her fate with indomitable courage. Thus perished that charming and spirited

* "The Duke of Orleans demanded only one favour, which was granted; namely, that his execution should be postponed for twenty-four hours. In the interval he had a repast prepared with care, on which he feasted with more than usual avidity. When led out to execution, he gazed for a time with a smile on his countenance, on the Palais Royal, the scene of his former orgies; he was detained above a quarter of an hour in front of that palace, by order of Robespierre, who had in vain asked his daughter's hand in marriage; and had promised, if he would relent in that extremity to excite a tumult which should save his life. Depraved as he was, he had too much honourable feeling left to consent to such a sacrifice; and remained in expectation of death, without giving the expected signal of acquiescence, for twenty minutes, when he was permitted to continue his journey to the scaffold. He met his death with stoical fortitude. The multitude applauded his execution."- Alison. E.

† "When Madame Roland arrived at the Conciergerie, the blood of the twenty-two deputies still flowed on the spot. Though she well knew the fate which awaited her, her firmness did not forsake her. Although past the prime of life, she was a fine woman, tall, and of an elegant form; an expression infinitely superior to what is usually found in women was seen in her large black eyes, at once forcible and mild. She frequently spoke from her window to those without, with the magnanimity of a man of the first order of talent. Sometimes, however, the susceptibility of her sex gained the ascendant, and it was seen that she had been weeping, no doubt at the remembrance of her daughter and husband. As she passed to the examination, we saw her with that firmness of deportment which usually marked her character; as she returned, her eyes were moistened with tears, but they were tears of indignation. She had been treated with the grossest rudeness, and questions had been put insulting to her honour. The day on which she was condemned, she had dressed herself in white, and with peculiar care; her long black hair hung down loose to her waist. After her condemnation, she returned to her prison with an alacrity which was little short of pleasure. By a sign, that was not mistaken, she gave us all to understand she was to die."Memoirs of a Prisoner. E.

# "Madame Roland's defence, composed by herself the night before her trial, is one of the most eloquent and touching monuments of the Revolution! Her answers to the interrogatories of her judges, the dignity of her manner, and the beauty of her figure, melted even the revolutionary audience. She was conveyed to the scaffold in the same car with a man whose firmness was not equal to her own. While pas passing along the streets, her whole anxiety appeared to be to support his courage. She did this with so much simplicity and effect, that she frequently brought a smile on the lips that were about to perish. When they arrived at the foot of the scaffold, she had the woman, who deserved to share the destiny of her friends, but who, more modest and more resigned to the passive part allotted to her sex, wished not to avoid the death due to her talents and her virtues, but to spare her husband and herself ridicule and calumnies.

Her husband had fled towards Rouen. On receiving intelligence of her tragic end, he resolved not to survive her. He quitted the hospitable house which had afforded him an asylum, and, to avoid compromising any friend, put an end to his life on the high road. He was found pierced to the heart by a sword, and lying against the foot of the tree against which he had placed the hilt of the destructive weapon. In his pocket was a paper relative to his life and to his conduct as a minister.

Thus, in that frightful delirium which had rendered genius and virtue and courage suspected, all that was most noble and most generous in France was perishing either by suicide or by the blade of the executioner.*

Among so many illustrious and courageous deaths, there was one still more lamentable and more sublime than any of the others; it was that of Bailly. From the manner in which he had been treated during the Queen's trial, it might easily be inferred how he was likely to be received before the revolutionary tribunal. The scene in the Champ de Mars, the proclamation of martial law, and the fusillade which followed, were the events with which the constituent party was most frequently and most bitterly reproached. Bailly, the friend of Lafayette, and the magistrate who had ordered the red flag to be unfurled, was the victim selected to atone for all the alleged offences of the Constituent Assembly. He was condemned, and was to be executed in the Champ de Mars, the theatre of what was termed his crime. His execution took place on the 11th of November. The weather was cold and rainy. Conducted on foot, he manifested the utmost composure and serenity, amidst the insults of a barbarous populace, which he had fed while he was mayor. During the long walk from the Conciergerie to the Champ de Mars, the red flag, which had been found at the mairie, enclosed in a mahogany box, was shaken in his face. On reaching the foot of the scaffold, it might be supposed that his sufferings were nearly over: but one of the wretches who had persecuted him so assiduously, cried out that the field of the federation ought not to be polluted by his blood. The people instantly rushed upon the guillotine, took it down, bore it off with the same enthusiasm as they had formerly shown in labouring in that same field of the federation, and erected it again upon a dunghill on the bank of the Seine, and opposite to the quarter of Chaillot, where Bailly had passed his life, and composed his works. This operation lasted some hours. Meanwhile he was obliged to walk several times round the Champ de Mars. Bareheaded and with his hands pinioned behind him, he could scarcely drag himself along. Some pelted him with mud, others kicked and struck him with sticks. He fell exhausted. They lifted him up again. Rain and cold had communicated to his limbs an involuntary shivering. "Thou tremblest!" said a soldier to him. " My friend," replied the old man, "it is cold." After he had been thus tormented for several

generosity to renounce, in favour of her companion, the privilege of being first executed. Ascend first,' said she, 'led me at least spare you the pain of seeing my blood flow." Turning to the executioner, she asked if he would consent to that arrangement. He replied that his orders were, that she should die the first. You cannot,' said she with a smile, you cannot, I am sure, refuse a woman her last request.' Undismayed by the spectacle which immediately ensued, she calmly bent her head under the guillotine, and perished with the serenity she had evinced ever since her imprisonment."-Alison. E.

* " The whole country seemed one vast conflagration of revolt and vengeance. The shrieks of death were blended with the yell of the assassin, and the laughter of buffoons. Never were the finest affections more warmly excited, or pierced with more cruel wounds. Whole families were led to the scaffold for no other crime than their relationship; sisters for shedding tears over the death of their brothers in the emigrant armies; wives for lamenting the fate of their husbands; innocent peasant-girls for dancing with the Prussian soldiers; and a woman giving suck, and whose milk spouted in the face of her executioner at the fatal stroke, for merely saying, as a group were being conducted to slaughter, Here is much blood shed for a trifling cause!" "-Hazlitt's Life of Napoleon. E.