Worcester Daily Spy

The New Reign of Terror in France.

The little Napoleon who now rules France though he seems quite as big a liar as his uncle, has none of his magnanimity. When the greater Napoleon seized the reins, the world and his adversaries were surprised at his leniency. But the pusillanimous hypocrite who is now aping the usurpation, does not even ape the clemency. Witness the following news by the last arrival:

"There are at present more than 20,000 persons imprisoned in Paris. More than 16,000 are still incarcerated in the casements of the forts, with nothing but straw to lie on. The rest have been shot or butchered.

Demosthenes Ollivier, ex-representative, still in prison at Mazas, has related to a lady who gained access to him, the following monstrosity:

"During three successive nights they awakened us en masse, telling us that we were to be shot. They then ordered us to descend into the square, where, after an hour of frightful anxiety, they ordered us to return to our cells, telling us that the execution was not to take place that night, but that probably it would the next. They thus made us thrice suffer the terrible throes of death."

It can easily be conceived that, after such refined cruelties, no others were spared. A woman during six days refused to reveal the whereabouts of her husband; they therefore took her three little children, the eldest of which was only six-years old, and shutting them up in her room, dragged the poor mother to the prefecture of police. "Your children," said they, "shall not eat until you reveal where your husband is."—Horribly tortured between the pangs of a wife and a mother, she remained twenty four hours without saying a word. After twenty four hours had elapsed, they reminded her of her children not having eaten, she still persisted silence, and it was only about noon—viz: after the lapse of thirty six hours—that the thought of her children not having partaken of any food drove her mad; she then revealed the abode of her husband.

The military laws authorize every enemy taken with arms in hand, to be shot; but here, in Paris, thousands of people have been arrested since the 2d, when the pretended hostilities were over. All the men designated republicans in their quarters, were seized and thrown into prison, in which many were massacred. On the first day, they were shot at the prefecture de police, but as the fusillading was too noisy, they substituted on the following days, the axe and the sabre to accomplish their bloody work. It was a sergent de ville who himself related the lugubrious drama. Met by one of his old friends, he was asked why he was in plain dress. "I can endure it no longer," he answered. "We have been, during four days, employed at the prefecture de police, to raise the axe and the sabre against the people, and could not stand it any longer, so I left. Several sergents de ville have become insane. We were sweltering in blood up to our knees; at length I was seized with terror." And indeed the sergents de ville, once so arrogant, can no longer look any one in the face, so utterly do they feel themselves debased. At the prison of Mazas, many prisoners were shot. The scenes of the 2d of September, 1792, were renewed. The prisoners were brought to the spot of execution, and were ordered to go to the right or to the left.—Those who went out through the door to the right were shot, the others not.

The plan of all those unheard of cruelties is to annihilate all those in the Republican party, capable of taking the initiative, or of inciting the masses. This plan is carried out with an infernal calculation." The most innocent people are implicated in the vague accusation of having participated in a plot.

The London Atlas, alluding to the Napoleon usurpation, and to the apparent inactivity of the opposition, indulges in this language:

"But with all this, the revolutionists have not done yet. For one Fieschi, we have now a thousand." It is well known that Paris swarms with men who walk about with the most solemn oaths on their heads to obey the injunctions of their leaders, and those injunctions are the death of Louis Napoleon Bonaparte. Once convinced that their only hope lies in assassination, and these men have more bullets at the President's disposal than he much cares to dream about.—Even they, reckless as they are, prefer succeeding after another fashion; and their chiefs have not quite made up their minds that a new system of tactics may not put the capital in their power, without the necessity of waiting for the President's will and pleasure to show himself in public. Some two or three hints have been dropped that the army may not always be so forward in defence of a leader who has never shown himself in the field—that another Magnan may not content himself with simply staying out of the way in the height of the insurrection—that Changarnier and Cavaignac are alive yet, and made irreconcilable foes of the President by their recent treatment. One wavering regiment, one quarter of the city successfully defended, and the day is theirs. If not—why they know their resource."