Chapter 125: Robespierre's Counterattack
The series of blows seemed to have dazed Robespierre. In protest of the Committee of Public Safety's perceived defiance of him, he decided to feign illness and stop attending their meetings. Meanwhile, his key supporter, Saint-Just, was dispatched as a northern commander due to the growing threat of an attack by the anti-French coalition forces. In the Committee of Public Safety, Robespierre's loyalists dwindled down to just Couthon. To many observers, it appeared that Robespierre was losing his grip on power.
However, those who truly understood Robespierre knew that he would not surrender easily. He was undoubtedly planning a formidable counterattack.
Robespierre wasn't actually sick, and during the day, he could be seen smiling as he moved about various impoverished neighborhoods, conversing with and inquiring about the lives of the common people. In the evening, he would return to his modest attic, write letters, and meet with people who came secretly to see him.
Normally, Fouch would have kept a close watch on Robespierre, monitoring his every move to uncover his schemes. But in this critical moment, a crisis struck Fouch's own home.
Fouch's six-year-old daughter fell seriously ill, possibly with pneumonia.
In those times, pneumonia was a deadly killer, claiming more lives than even the guillotine that Robespierre wielded.This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com
No matter how future generations would satirize and criticize the chameleon Fouch, such as Chateaubriand describing him as a "man without tears and a heart," they still had to acknowledge that, for his wife, Fouch was a good husband, and for his children, he was a loving father.
Fouch remained faithful to his wife throughout his life, even though she was just a "poor, humble, plain, and short" commoner. After achieving a prominent position, many like him would often indulge in countless extramarital affairs, even swapping mistresses with one another, as Paul Barras did later. But Fouch, who had long held high office, had never been involved in such affairs.
Fouch also kept his children sheltered from the tumultuous politics outside, shielding them from these harsh realities. While outside, he exuded a stern and imposing presence, his face devoid of any hint of a smile. A single glance or gesture from him was enough to send shivers down the spines of countless people, leaving them sleepless as they speculated about the meaning behind his enigmatic expressions.
Yet, even in the most perilous and challenging moments, when he returned home, that perennially icy poker face melted away, and he revealed the warmest smile in the world.
It was a thunderous blow. Fouch's previous advantages in his machinations had almost entirely evaporated in that moment. The guillotine, once far from his reach, seemed to inch closer again. Considering that just one day before beheading Danton, Robespierre had also executed Danton's wife, and Robespierre had been their wedding witness and the godfather of their daughter, Fouch could hardly imagine what fate awaited his own wife and children if he were sent to the scaffold.
Having regained control over the Jacobin Club, Robespierre knew how precarious his situation was. He was fully aware of the growing resentment toward him and that his base of support was unstable. He couldn't trust anyone, not even those who groveled at his feet, confessing their sins and begging for forgiveness, whether they were from the Jacobin Club or the Committee of Public Safety. He knew that should he reveal any vulnerability, they would undoubtedly betray him. Once a traitor, always a traitor!
So, Robespierre needed a reliable foundation. He believed that the only potential foundation for him could be the sans-culottes, the working-class people.
As a result, Robespierre controlled the National Convention and passed increasingly extreme laws favoring the sans-culottes. He didn't mind disrupting the entire economy, even if these laws were detrimental to the interests of the "respectable" citizens. Robespierre knew that his actions would only fuel more resentment from those in the National Convention and the Jacobin Club. However, these people had proven to be unreliable, even if he were to take their interests into account. Would they truly remain loyal to him?
"You've betrayed Robespierre once," Fouch whispered to Paul Barras. "Robespierre will never trust you again. That's why he's courting the sans-culottes. He's not sure if they're still on his side as they were before. But let me tell you, people have short memories, especially when they're bribed with material wealth. If the sans-culottes stand by him, you and everyone else will walk the same path as the Dantonists!"
"But everyone is too afraid to take action," Barras replied.
"So, let's make them even more afraid. That fear will eventually drive them to action," Fouch said in a low voice, wearing a sinister smile, "Monsieur Barras, do you know of someone, like a Charlotte Corday, who can perform the task of assassinating Couthon? The assassination must be in a public place, the attempt must fail, and the assassin must take their own life immediately."
Barras fell silent. After Fouch voiced this request, Barras understood the implications. If the assassination failed, it would still cause significant repercussions. If an investigation were conducted, it would put everyone from the sans-culottes to the National Convention on edge. Threats and blackmail would follow.
"Perhaps you should speak with Tallien; he may know someone suitable," Barras suggested.
Tallien, a lowly-born revolutionary, was once a trusted aide of Georges Danton. When the Dantonists were executed, Tallien was fortunate to escape. He had connections with criminal elements before the revolution, and his loyalty to Danton made him a potential candidate for this dangerous mission. In these circumstances, he was the best option.
