While such the designs and fears of Maximilien Robespierre, common
danger, common hatred, whatever was yet left of mercy or of virtue
in the agents of the Revolution, served to unite strange opposites in
hostility to the universal death-dealer. There was, indeed, an actual
conspiracy at work against him among men little less bespattered than
himself with innocent blood. But that conspiracy would have been idle of
itself, despite the abilities of Tallien and Barras (the only men whom
it comprised, worthy, by foresight and energy, the names of “leaders”).
The sure and destroying elements that gathered round the tyrant were
Time and Nature; the one, which he no longer suited; the other, which
he had outraged and stirred up in the human breast. The most atrocious
party of the Revolution, the followers of Hebert, gone to his last
account, the butcher-atheists, who, in desecrating heaven and earth,
still arrogated inviolable sanctity to themselves, were equally enraged
at the execution of their filthy chief, and the proclamation of a
Supreme Being. The populace, brutal as it had been, started as from a
dream of blood, when their huge idol, Danton, no longer filled the
stage of terror, rendering crime popular by that combination of careless
frankness and eloquent energy which endears their heroes to the herd.
The glaive of the guillotine had turned against THEMSELVES. They had
yelled and shouted, and sung and danced, when the venerable age, or the
gallant youth, of aristocracy or letters, passed by their streets in
the dismal tumbrils; but they shut up their shops, and murmured to each
other, when their own order was invaded, and tailors and cobblers, and
journeymen and labourers, were huddled off to the embraces of the “Holy
Mother Guillotine,” with as little ceremony as if they had been the
Montmorencies or the La Tremouilles, the Malesherbes or the Lavoisiers.
“At this time,” said Couthon, justly, “Les ombres de Danton, d’Hebert,
de Chaumette, se promenent parmi nous!” (The shades of Danton, Hebert,
and Chaumette walk amongst us.)
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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