Now the truth about Robespierre is to-day fairly well known. Hamel’s great monograph, though far too favourable to his subject, is crammed with document and reference. It was not Robespierre, it was the Committee of Public Safety, and Carnot in particular, who created the Terror as an instrument of martial law. They created it in order to win the desperate battle in which they were engaged on every frontier and upon the sea, and the first sign of Robespierre’s downfall was his desertion of the Committee of Public Safety. Carnot in particular saw that Robespierre was interfering with the Committee’s rigour. The Committee had no idea that when they had got rid of Robespierre the false popular conception upon his character and position would release the very heavy strain which the Terror had created and make the continuation of it impossible: but though they did not see what was coming, it was _they_ that deposed Robespierre, and they deposed him not because he represented the Terror, but, on the contrary, because he would have modified and restricted their power, of which the Terror was the instrument. If Mr. Wells would be at the pains to read the actual indictments on which people were put to death in Paris, he would find that the great majority of them were humble people, and most of them, humble or prominent, were put to death for some form of weakening the military effort; for sending money abroad, for attempting desertion to the enemy, or helping him, or uttering “defeatist” sentiments, and so on. On Mr. Wells’s very long and violent diatribe against Napoleon I shall not delay. It is merely silly. Mr. Wells seems to have a personal grudge against anyone in history who shows remarkable military talent, or, indeed, remarkable powers of any kind, and these in the case of Napoleon were combined with all the qualities which are to Mr. Wells like red rags to a bull. He was of the Catholic culture, he had an immense genius in nearly every department of human activity, he was a gentleman by birth, he was a soldier by profession. It is, therefore, natural that our author should be opposed to him strongly. But surely one can be strongly opposed to an historical character without making a fool of one’s self! I, for instance, am strongly opposed to Oliver Cromwell’s character, I have no indulgence for his particular kind of vices, cruelty and avarice and pride, while I have a natural indulgence for the sensual frailties to which Cromwell was not inclined. But what would any competent critic think of me as an historian if I denied Cromwell’s energy, belittled his capacity as a cavalry leader, or doubted the reality of his fanatical religion? If I made him out an insignificant fellow? CHAPTER XVI SUMMARY