A General History for Colleges and High Schools (Myers)/Chapter 58
CHAPTER LVIII.
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.
(1789–1799.)
i. Causes of the Revolution: the States-General of 1789.
Introductory.—The French Revolution is in political what the German Reformation is in ecclesiastical history. It was the revolt of the French people against royal despotism and class privilege. "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity," was the motto of the Revolution. In the name of these principles the most atrocious crimes were indeed committed; but these excesses of the Revolution are not to be confounded with its true spirit and' aims. The French people in 1789 contended for those same principles that the English Puritans defended in 1640, and that our fathers maintained in 1776. It is only as we view them in this light that we can feel a sympathetic interest in the men and events of this tumultuous period of French history.
Causes of the Revolution.—Chief among the causes of the French Revolution were the abuses and extravagances of the Bourbon monarchy; the unjust privileges enjoyed by the nobility and clergy; the wretched condition of the great mass of the people; and the revolutionary character and spirit of French philosophy and literature. To these must be added, as a proximate cause, the influence of the American Revolution. We shall speak briefly of these several matters.
The Bourbon Monarchy.—We simply repeat what we have already learned, when we say that the authority of the French crown under the Bourbons had become unbearably despotic and oppressive. The life of every person in the realm was at the arbitrary disposal of the king. Persons were thrown into prison without even knowing the offence for which they were arrested. The royal decrees were laws. The taxes imposed by the king were simply robberies and confiscations. The public money, thus gathered, was squandered in maintaining a court the scandalous extravagances and debaucheries of which would shame a Turkish Sultan.
The Nobility.—The French nobility, in the time of the Bourbons, numbered about 80,000 families. The order was simply the remains of the once powerful but now broken-down feudal aristocracy of the Middle Ages. Its members were chiefly the pensioners of the king, the ornaments of his court, living in riotous luxury at Paris or Versailles. Stripped of their ancient power, they still retained all the old pride and arrogance of their order, and clung tenaciously to all their feudal privileges. Although holding onefifth of the lands of France, they paid scarcely any taxes.
The Clergy.—The clergy formed a decayed feudal hierarchy. They possessed enormous wealth, the gift of piety through many centuries. Over a third of the lands of the country was in their hands, and yet this immense property was almost wholly exempt from taxation. The bishops and abbots were usually drawn from the families of the nobles, being too often attracted to the service of the Church rather by its princely revenues and the social distinction conferred by its offices, than by the inducements of piety. These "patrician prelates" were hated alike by the humbler clergy and the people.
The Commons.—Below the two privileged orders of the State stood the commons, who constituted the chief bulk of the nation, and who numbered, at the commencement of the Revolution, probably about 25,000,000. It is quite impossible to give any adequate idea of the pitiable condition of the poorer classes of the commons throughout the century preceding the Revolution. The peasants particularly suffered the most intolerable wrongs. They were vexed by burdensome feudal regulations. Thus they were forbidden to fence their fields for the protection of their crops, as the fences interfered with the lord's progress in the hunt; and they were even prohibited from cultivating their fields at certain seasons, as this disturbed the partridges and other game. Being kept in a state of abject poverty, a failure of crops reduced them to absolute starvation. It was not an unusual thing to find women and children dead along the roadways. In a word, to use the language of one (Fénelon) who saw all this misery, France had become "simply a great hospital full of woe and empty of food."
Revolutionary Spirit of French Philosophy.—French philosophy in the eighteenth century was sceptical and revolutionary. The names of the great writers Rousseau (1712–1778) and Voltaire (1694–1778) suggest at once its prevalent tone and spirit. Rousseau declared that all the evils which afflict humanity arise from vicious, artificial arrangements, such as the Family, the Church, and the State. Accordingly he would do away with these things, and have men return to a state of nature—that is, to simplicity. Savages, he declared, were happier than civilized men.
The tendency and effect of this sceptical philosophy was to create hatred and contempt for the institutions of both State and Church, to foster discontent with the established order of things, to stir up an uncontrollable passion for innovation and change.
Influence of the American Revolution.—Not one of the least potent of the proximate causes of the French Revolution was the successful establishment of the American republic. The French people sympathized deeply with the English colonists in their struggle for independence. Many of the nobility, like Lafayette, offered to the patriots the service of their swords; and the popular feeling at length compelled Louis XVI. to extend to them openly the aid of the armies of France.
The final triumph of the cause of liberty awakened scarcely less enthusiasm and rejoicing in France than in America. In this young republic of the Western world the French people saw realized the Arcadia of their philosophers. It was no longer a dream. They themselves had helped to make it real. Here the Rights of Man had been recovered and vindicated. And now this liberty which the French people had helped the American colonists to secure, they were impatient to see France herself enjoy.
"After us, the Deluge."—The long-gathering tempest is now ready to break over France. Louis XV. died in 1774. In the early part of his reign his subjects had affectionately called him the "Well-beloved," but long before he laid down the sceptre, all their early love and admiration had been turned into hatred and contempt. Besides being overbearing and despotic, the king was indolent, rapacious, and scandalously profligate. During twenty years of his reign the king was wholly under the influence of the notorious Madame de Pompadour.
The inevitable issue of this orgie of crime and folly seems to have been clearly enough perceived by the chief actors in it, as is shown by that reckless phrase so often on the lips of the king and his favorite—"After us, the Deluge." And after them, the Deluge indeed did come. The near thunders of the approaching tempest could already be heard when Louis XV. lay down to die.
Calling of the States-General (1789).—Louis XV. left the tottering throne to his grandson, Louis XVI., then only twenty years of age. He had recently been married to the fair and brilliant Marie Antoinette, archduchess of Austria.
The king called to his side successively the most eminent financiers and statesmen (Maurepas, Turgot, Necker, and Calonne) as his ministers and advisers; but their policies and remedies availed little or nothing. The disease which had fastened itself upon the nation was too deep-seated. The traditions of the court, the rigidity of long-established customs, and the heartless selfishness of the privileged classes, rendered reform and efficient retrenchment impossible.
In 1787 the king summoned the Notables, a body composed chiefly of great lords and prelates, who had not been called to advise with the king since the reign of Henry IV. But miserable counsellors were they all. Refusing to give up any of their feudal privileges, or to tax the property of their own orders that the enormous public burdens which were crushing the commons might be lightened, their coming together resulted in nothing.
As a last resort it was resolved to summon the united wisdom of the nation,—to call together the States-General, the almost-forgotten assembly, composed of representatives of the three estates,—the nobility, the clergy, and the commons, the latter being known as the Tiers État, or Third Estate. On the 5th of May, 1789, a memorable date, this assembly met at Versailles. It was the first time it had been summoned to deliberate upon the affairs of the nation in the space of 175 years. It was now composed of 1,200 representatives, more than one-half of whom were deputies of the commons. The eyes of the nation were turned in hope and expectancy towards Versailles. Surely if the redemption of France could be worked out by human wisdom, it would now be effected.
2. The National, or Constituent Assembly (June 17, 1789–Sept. 30, 1791).
The States-General changed into the National Assembly.—At the very outset a dispute arose in the States-General assembly between the privileged orders and the commons, respecting the manner of voting. It had been the ancient custom of the body to vote upon all questions by orders; and thinking that this custom would prevail in the present assembly, the king and his counsellors had yielded to the popular demand and allowed the Third Estate to send to Versailles more representatives than both the other orders. The commons now demanded that the voting should be by individuals; for, should the vote be taken by orders, the clergy and nobility by combining could always outvote them. For five weeks the quarrel kept everything at a standstill.
Finally the commons, emboldened by the tone of public opinion without, took a decisive, revolutionary step. They declared themselves the National Assembly, and then invited the other two orders to join them in their deliberations, giving them to understand that if they did not choose to do so, they should proceed to the consideration of public affairs without them.
Shut out from the palace, the Third Estate met in one of the churches of Versailles. Many of the clergy had already joined the body. Two days later the nobility came. The eloquent Bailly, President of the Assembly, in receiving them, exclaimed, "This day will be illustrious in our annals; it renders the family complete." The States-General had now become in reality the National Assembly.
Storming of the Bastile (July 14, 1789).—During the opening weeks of the National Assembly, Paris was in a state of great excitement. The Bastile was the old state prison, the emblem, in the eyes of the people, of despotism. A report came that its guns were trained on the city; that provoked a popular outbreak. "Let us storm the Bastile," rang through the streets. The mob straightway proceeded to lay siege to the grim old dungeon. In a few hours the prison fortress was in their hands. The walls of the hated state prison were razed to the ground, and the people danced on the spot. The key of the fortress was sent as a "trophy of the spoils of despotism" to Washington by Lafayette.
The destruction by the Paris mob of the Bastile is in the French Revolution what the burning of the papal bull by Luther was to the Reformation. It was the death-knell not only of Bourbon despotism in France, but of royal tyranny everywhere. When the news reached England, the great statesman Fox, perceiving its significance for liberty, exclaimed, "How much is this the greatest event that ever happened in the world, and how much the best!"
The Emigration of the Nobles.—The fall of the Bastile left Paris in the hands of a triumphant mob. Those suspected of sympathizing with the royal party were massacred without mercy. The peasantry in many districts, following the example set them by the capital, rose against the nobles, sacked and burned their castles, and either killed the occupants or dragged them off to prison. This terrorism caused the beginning of what is known as the emigration of the nobles, their flight beyond the frontiers of France.
"To Versailles."—An imprudent act on the part of the king and his friends at Versailles brought about the next episode in the progress of the Revolution. The arrival there of a body of troops was made the occasion of a banquet to the officers of the regiment. While heated with wine, the young nobles had trampled under foot the national tri-colored cockades, and substituted for them white cockades, the emblem of the Bourbons. The report of these proceedings caused in Paris the wildest excitement. Other rumors of the intended flight of the king to Metz, and of plots against the national cause, added fuel to the flames. Besides, bread had failed, and the poorer classes were savage from hunger.
October 5th a mob of desperate women, terrible in aspect as furies, and armed with clubs and knives, collected in the streets of Paris, determined upon going to Versailles, and demanding relief from the king himself. All efforts to dissuade them from their purpose were unavailing, and soon the Parisian rabble was in motion. A horrible multitude, savage as the hordes that followed Attila, streamed out of the city towards Versailles, about twelve miles distant. The National Guards, infected with the delirium of the moment, forced Lafayette to lead them in the same direction. Thus all day Paris emptied itself into the royal suburbs.
The mob encamped in the streets of Versailles for the night. Early the following morning they broke into the palace, killed two of the guards, and battering down doors with axes, forced their way to the queen's chamber, who barely escaped with her life to the king's apartments. The timely arrival of Lafayette alone saved the entire royal family from being massacred.
The Royal Family taken to Paris.—The mob now demanded that the king should return with them to Paris. Their object in this was to have him under their eye, and prevent his conspiring with the privileged orders to thwart the plans of the revolutionists. Louis was forced to yield to the demands of the people.
The procession arrived at Paris in the evening. The royal family were placed in the Palace of the Tuileries, and Lafayette was charged with the duty of guarding the king, who was to be held as a sort of hostage for the good conduct of the nobles and foreign sovereigns while a constitution was being prepared by the Assembly.
Such was what was called the "Joyous Entry " of October 6th. The palace at Versailles, thus stripped of royalty and left bespattered with blood, was never again to be occupied as the residence of a king of France.
The Flight of the King (June 20, 1791).—For two years following the Joyous Entry there was a comparative lull in the storm of the Revolution. The king was kept a sort of prisoner in the Tuileries. The National Assembly were making sweeping reforms both in Church and State, and busying themselves in framing a new constitution. The emigrant nobles watched the course of events from beyond the frontiers, not daring to make a move for fear the excitable Parisian mob, upon any hostile step taken by them, would massacre the entire royal family.
Could the king only escape from the hands of his captors and make his way to the borders of France, then he could place himself at the head of the emigrant nobles, and, with foreign aid, overturn the National Assembly and crush the revolutionists. The flight was resolved upon and carefully planned. Under cover of night the entire royal family, in disguise, escaped from the Tuileries, and by post conveyance fled towards the frontier. When just another hour would have placed the fugitives in safety among friends, the Bourbon features of the king betrayed him, and the entire party was arrested and carried back to Paris.
The attempted flight of the royal family was a fatal blow to the Monarchy. Many affected to regard it as equivalent to an act of abdication on the part of the king. The people now began to talk of a republic.
The Clubs: Jacobins and Cordeliers.—In order to render intelligible the further course of the Revolution we must here speak of two clubs, or organizations, which came into prominence about this time, and which were destined to become more powerful than the Assembly itself, and to be the chief instruments in inaugurating the Reign of Terror. These were the societies of the Jacobins and Cordeliers, so called from certain old convents in which they were accustomed to meet. The purpose of these clubs was to watch for conspiracies of the royalists, and by constant agitation to keep alive the flame of the Revolution.
The New Constitution.—The work of the National Assembly was now drawing to a close. On the 14th of September, 1791, the new constitution framed by that body, and which made the government of France a constitutional monarchy, was solemnly ratified by the king. The National Assembly, having sat nearly three years, then adjourned (Sept. 30, 1791). The first scene in the drama of the French Revolution was ended.
3. The Legislative Assembly (Oct. 1, 1791–Sept. 21, 1792).
The Three Parties.—The new constitution provided for a national legislature to be called the Legislative Assembly. This body, comprising 745 members, was divided into three parties: the Constitutionalists, the Girondists, and the Mountainists. The Constitutionalists of course supported the new constitution, being in favor of a limited monarchy. The Girondists, so . called from the name (La Gironde) of the department whence came the most noted of its members, wished to establish in France such a republic as the American colonists had just set up in the New World. The Mountainists, who took their name from their lofty seats in the assembly, were radical republicans, or levellers. Many of them were members of the Jacobin club or that of the Cordeliers. The leaders of this faction were Marat, Danton, and Robespierre,— names of terror in the subsequent records of the Revolution.
War with the Old Monarchies.—The kings of Europe were watching with the utmost anxiety the course of events in France. They regarded the cause of Louis XVI. as their own. If the French people should be allowed to overturn the throne of their hereditary sovereign, who would then respect the divine rights of kings? The old monarchies of Europe therefore resolved that the revolutionary movement in Prance, a movement threatening all aristocratical and monarchical institutions, should be crushed, and that these heretical French doctrines respecting the Sovereignty of the People and the Rights of Man should be proved false by the power of royal armies.
The warlike preparations of Frederick William III. of Prussia and the Emperor Francis II., awakened the apprehensions of the revolutionists, and led the Legislative Assembly to declare war against them (April 20, 1792). A little later, the allied armies of the Austrians and Prussians, numbering more than 100,000 men, and made up in part of the French emigrant nobles, passed the frontiers of France. Thus were taken the first steps in a series of wars which were destined to last nearly a quarter of a century, and in which France almost single-handed was to struggle against the leagued powers of Europe, and to illustrate the miracles possible to enthusiasm and genius.
The Massacre of the Swiss Guards (Aug. 10, 1792).—The allies at first gained easy victories over the ill-disciplined forces of the Legislative Assembly, and the Duke of Brunswick, at the head of an immense army, advanced rapidly upon Paris. An insolent proclamation which this commander now issued, wherein he ordered the French nation to submit to their king, and threatened the Parisians with the destruction of their city should any harm be done the royal family, drove the French people frantic with indignation and rage. The Palace of the Tuileries, defended by a few hundred Swiss soldiers, the remnant of the royal guard, was assaulted. A terrible struggle followed in the corridors and upon the grand stairways of the palace. The Swiss stood "steadfast "as the granite of their Alps." But they were overwhelmed at last, and all were murdered, either in the building itself or in the surrounding courts and streets.
The Massacre of September ("Jail Delivery ").—The army of the allies hurried on towards Paris to avenge the slaughter of the royal guards and to rescue the king. The capital was all excitement. "We must stop the enemy," cried Danton, "by striking terror into the royalists." To this end the most atrocious measures were now adopted by the Extremists. It was resolved that all the royalists confined in the jails of the capital should be murdered. A hundred or more assassins were hired to butcher the prisoners. The murderers first entered the churches of the city, and the unfortunate priests who had refused to take oath to support the new constitution, were butchered in heaps about the altars. The jails were next visited, one after another, the persons confined within slaughtered, and their bodies thrown out to the brutal hordes that followed the butchers to enjoy the carnival of blood. The victims of this terrible "September Massacre," as it is called, are estimated at from six to fourteen thousand. Europe had never before known such a "jail delivery." It was the greatest crime of the French Revolution.
Defeat of the Allies.—Meanwhile, in the open field, the fortunes of war inclined to the side of the revolutionists. The French generals were successful in checking the advance of the allies, and finally at Valmy (Sept. 20, 1792) succeeded in inflicting upon them a decisive defeat, which caused their hasty retreat beyond the frontiers of France. The day after this victory the Legislative Assembly came to an end, and the following day the National Convention assembled.
4. The National Convention (Sept. 21, 1792-Oct. 26, 1795).
Parties in the Convention.—The Convention, consisting of seven hundred and forty-nine deputies, among whom was the celebrated freethinker, Tom Paine, was divided into two parties, the Girondists and the Mountainists. There were no monarchists; all were republicans. No one dared to speak of a monarchy.
The Establishment of the Republic (Sept. 21, 1792).—The very first act of the Convention on its opening day was to abolish the Monarchy and proclaim France a Republic. The motion for the abolition of Royalty was not even discussed. "What need is there for discussion," exclaimed a delegate, "where all are agreed? Courts are the hot-bed of crime, the focus of corruption; the history of kings is the martyrology of nations."
All titles of nobility were also aljolished. Every one was to be addressed simply as citizen. In the debates of the Convention, the king was alluded to as Citizen Capet, and on the street the shoeblack was called Citizen Shoeblack.
The day following the Proclamation of the republic (Sept. 22, 1792) was made the beginning of a new era, the first day of the Year I. That was to be regarded as the natal day of Liberty. A little later, excited by the success of the French armies,—the Austrians and Prussians had been beaten, and Belgium had been over-run and occupied,—the Convention called upon all nations to rise against despotism, and pledged the aid of France to any people wishing to secure freedom.
Trial and Execution of the King (Jan. 21, 1793).—The next work of the Convention was the trial and execution of the king. On the 11th of December, 1792, he was brought before the bar of that body, charged with having conspired with the enemies of France, of having opposed the will of the people, and of having caused the massacre of the 10th of August. The sentence of the Convention was immediate death. On Jan. 21, 1793, the unfortunate monarch was conducted to the scaffold.
Coalition against France.—The regicide awakened the most bitter hostility against the French revolutionists, among all the old monarchies of Europe. The act was interpreted as a threat against all kings. A grand coalition, embracing Prussia, Austria, England, Sweden, Holland, Spain, Portugal, Piedmont, Naples, the Holy See, and later, Russia, was formed to crush the republican movement. Armies aggregating more than a quarter of a million of men threatened France at once on every frontier.
While thus beset with foes without, the republic was threatened with even more dangerous enemies within. The people of La Vendue, in Western France, who still retained their simple reverence for Royalty, Nobility, and the Church, rose in revolt against the sweeping innovations of the revolutionists.
To meet all these dangers which threatened the life of the new-born republic, the Convention ordered a levy, which placed 300,000 men in the field. The stirring Marseillaise Hymn, sung by the marching bands, awakened everywhere a martial fervor.
The Fall of the Girondists (June 2, 1793).—Gloomy tidings came from every quarter,—news of reverses to the armies of the republic in front of the allies, and of successes of the counterrevolutionists in La Vendue and other provinces. The Mountainists in the Convention, supported by the rabble of Paris, urged the most extreme measures. They proposed that the carriages of the wealthy should be seized and used for carrying soldiers to the seat of war, and that the expenses of the government should be met by forced contributions from the rich.
The Girondists opposing these communistic measures, a mob, 80,000 strong, it is asserted, surrounded the Convention, and demanded that the Girondists be given up as enemies of the Republic. They were surrendered and placed under arrest, a preliminary step to the speedy execution of many of them during the opening days of the Reign of Terror, which had now begun.
Thus did the Parisian mob purge the National Convention of France, as the army purged Parliament in the English Revolution (see p. 612). That mob were now masters, not only of the capital, but of France as well. There is nothing before France now but anarchy, and the dictator to whom anarchy always gives birth.
The Reign of Terror (June 2, 1793–July 27, 1794).
Opening of the Reign of Terror.—As soon as the expulsion of the Moderates had given the Extremists control of the Convention, they proceeded to carry out their policy of terrorism. Supreme power was vested in the so-called Committee of Public Safety, which became a terrific engine of tyranny and cruelty. Marat was president of the Committee, and Danton and Robespierre were both members.
The scenes which now followed are only feebly illustrated by the proscriptions of Sulla in ancient Rome (see p. 283). All aristocrats, all persons suspected of lukewarmness in the cause of liberty, were ordered to the guillotine. Hundreds were murdered simply because their wealth was wanted. Others fell, not because they were guilty of any political offence, but on account of having in some way incurred the personal displeasure of the dictators.
Charlotte Corday: Assassination of Marat (July 13, 1793).—At this moment appeared the Joan of Arc of the Revolution. A maiden of Normandy, Charlotte Corday by name, conceived the idea of delivering France from the terrors of proscription and civil war, by going to Paris and killing Marat, whom she regarded as the head of the tyranny. On pretence of wishing to reveal to him something of importance, she gained admission to his rooms and stabbed him to the heart. She atoned for the deed under the knife of the guillotine.
Events after the Death of Marat.—The enthusiasm of Charlotte Corday had led her to believe that the death of Marat would be a fatal blow to the power of the Mountainists. But it only served to drive them to still greater excesses, under the lead of Danton and Robespierre. She died to stanch the flow of her country's blood; but, as Lamartine says, "her poniard appeared to have opened the veins of France." The flame of insurrection in the departments was quenched in deluges of blood. Some of the cities that had been prominent centres of the counter-revolution were made a terrible example of the vengeance of the revolutionists. Lyons was an object of special hatred to the tyrants. Respecting this place the Convention passed the following decree: "The city of Lyons shall be destroyed: every house occupied by a rich man shall be demolished; only the dwellings of the poor shall remain, with edifices specially devoted to industry, and monuments consecrated to humanity and public education." So thousands of men were set to work to pull down the city. The Convention further decreed that a monument should be erected upon the ruins of Lyons with this inscription: "Lyons opposed Liberty! Lyons is no more!"
Execution of the Queen and of the Girondists.—The rage of the revolutionists was at this moment turned anew against the remaining members of the royal family, by the European powers proclaiming the Dauphin King of France. The queen, who had now borne nine months' imprisonment in a close dungeon, was brought before the terrible Revolutionary Tribunal, a sort of court organized to take cognizance of conspiracies against the republic, condemned to the guillotine, and straightway beheaded.
Two weeks after the execution of the queen, twenty-one of the chiefs of the Girondists, who had been kept in confinement since their arrest in the Convention, were pushed beneath the knife. Hundreds of others followed. Day after day the carnival of death went on. Seats were arranged for the people, who crowded to the spectacle as to a theatre. The women busied their hands with their knitting, while their eyes feasted upon the swiftly changing scenes of the horrid drama.
Most illustrious of all the victims after the queen was Madame Roland, who was accused of being the friend of the Girondists. Woman has always acted a prominent part in the great events of French history, because the grand ideas and sentiments which have worked so powerfully upon the imaginative and impulsive temperament of the men of France, have appealed with a still more fatal attraction to her more romantic and generously enthusiastic nature.
Sweeping Changes and Reforms.—While clearing away the enemies of France and of liberty, the revolutionists were also busy making the most sweeping changes in the ancient institutions and customs of the land. They hated these as having been established by kings and aristocrats to enhance their own importance and power, and to enthrall the masses. They proposed to sweep these things all aside, and give the world a fresh start.
A new system of weights and measures, known as the metrical, was planned, and a new mode of reckoning time was introduced. The names of the months were altered, titles being given them expressive of the character of each. Each month was divided into three periods of ten days each, called decades, and each day into ten parts. The tenth day of each decade took the place of Sunday. The five odd days not provided for in the arrangement were made festival days.
Abolition of Christianity.—With these reforms effected, the revolutionists next proceeded to the more difficult task of subverting the ancient institutions of religion. Some of the chiefs of the Commune of Paris declared that the Revolution should not rest until it had "dethroned the King of Heaven as well as the kings of earth."
An attempt was made by the Extremists to have Christianity abolished by a decree of the National Convention; but that body, fearing such an act might alienate many who were still attached to the Church,
The atheistic chiefs of the Commune of the capital now determined to effect their purpose through the Church itself. They persuaded the Bishop of Paris to abdicate his office; and his example was followed by many of the clergy throughout the country. The churches of Paris and of other cities were now closed, and the treasures of their altars and shrines confiscated to the State. Even the bells were melted down into cannon. The images of the Virgin and of the Christ were torn down, and the busts of Marat and other patriots set up in their stead. And as the emancipation of the world was now to be wrought, not by the Cross, but by the guillotine, that instrument took the place of the crucifix, and was called the Holy Guillotine. All the visible symbols of the ancient religion were destroyed. All emblems of hope in the cemeteries were obliterated, and over their gates were inscribed the words, "Death is eternal sleep."
The madness of the Parisian people culminated in the worship of what was called the Goddess of Reason. A celebrated beauty, personating the Goddess, was set upon the altar of Notre Dame as the object of homage and adoration. The example of Paris was followed in many places throughout France. Churches were everywhere converted into temples of the new worship. The Sabbath having been abolished, the services of the temple were held only upon every tenth day. On that day the mayor or some popular leader mounted the altar and harangued the people, dwelling upon the news of the moment, the triumphs of the armies of the republic, the glorious achievements of the Revolution, and the privilege of living in an era when one was oppressed neither by kings on earth or by a King in heaven.
Fall of Hébert and Danton (March and April, 1794).—Not quite one year of the Reign of Terror had passed before the revolutionists, having destroyed or driven into obscurity their common enemy, the Girondists, turned upon one another with the ferocity of beasts whose appetites has been whetted by the taste of blood.
During the progress of events the Jacobins had become divided into three factions, headed respectively by Danton, Robespierre, and Hébert. Danton, though he had been a bold and audacious leader, was now adopting a more conservative tone, and was condemning the extravagances and cruelties of the Committee of
Hébert was one of the worst demagogues of the Commune, the chief and instigator of the Parisian rabble. He and his followers, the sans-culottes of the capital, would overturn everything and refound society upon communism and atheism.
Robespierre occupied a position midway between these two, condemning alike the moderatism of Danton and the atheistic communism of Hébert. To make his own power supreme, he resolved to crush both.
Hébert and his party were the first to fall, Danton and his adherents working with Robespierre to bring about their ruin, for the Moderates and Anarchists were naturally at bitter enmity.
Danton and his friends were the next to follow. Little more than a week had passed since the execution of Hebert before Robespierre had effected their destruction, on the charge of conspiring with and encouraging the counter-revolutionists. With the Anarchists and Moderates both destroyed, Robespierre was now supreme. His ambition was attained. "He stood alone on the awful eminence of the Holy Mountain." But his turn was soon to come.
Worship of the Supreme Being.—One of the first acts of the dictator was to give France a new religion in place of the worship of Reason. Robespierre wished to sweep away Christianity as a superstition, but he would stop at deism. He did not believe that a state could be founded on atheism. "Atheism," said he, "is aristocratic. The idea of a great being who watches over oppressed innocence, and who punishes triumphant guilt, is and always will be popular. If God did not exist, it would behoove man to invent him." Accordingly Robespierre offered in the Convention the following resolution: "The French people acknowledge the existence of the Supreme Being and the immortality of the soul." The decree was adopted, and the churches that had been converted into temples of the Goddess of Reason were now consecrated to the worship of the Supreme Being.
The Terror at Paris.—At the very same time that Robespierre was establishing the new worship, he was desolating France with massacres of incredible atrocity, and ruling by a terrorism unparalleled since the most frightful days of Rome. With all power gathered in his hands, he overawed all opposition and dissent by the wholesale slaughters of the guillotine. The prisons of Paris and of the departments were filled with suspected persons, until 200,000 prisoners were crowded within these republican Bastiles. At Paris the dungeons were emptied of their victims and room made for fresh ones, by the swift processes, of the Revolutionary Tribunal, which in mockery of justice caused the prisoners to be brought before its bar in companies of ten or fifty. Rank or talent was an inexpiable crime. "Were you not a noble?" asks the president of the court of one of the accused. "Yes," was the reply. "Enough; another," was the judge's verdict. And so on through the long list each day brought before the tribunal. The scenes about the guillotine were simply infernal. Benches were arranged around the scaffold and rented to spectators, like seats in a theatre. A special sewer had to be constructed to carry off the blood of the victims. In the space of a little over a month (from June 10th to July 17th) the number of persons guillotined at Paris was 1285, an average of 34 a day.
Massacres in the Provinces.—While such was the terrible state of things at the capital, matters were even worse in many of the other leading cities of France. The scenes at Nantes, Bordeaux, Marseilles, and Toulon suggested, in their varied elements of horror, the awful conceptions of the "Inferno" of Dante. At Nantes the victims were at first shot singly or guillotined; but these methods being found too slow, more expeditious modes of execution were devised. To these were playfully given the names of "Republican Baptisms," "Republican Marriages," and "Battues."
The "Republican Baptism" consisted in crowding a hundred or more persons into a vessel, which was then towed out into the Loire and scuttled. In the "Republican Marriages" a man and woman were bound together, and then thrown into the river. The "Battues" consisted in ranging the victims in long ranks, and mowing them down with discharges of cannon and musket. By these various methods fifteen thousand victims were destroyed in the course of a single month. The entire number massacred at Nantes during the Reign of Terror is estimated at thirty thousand. What renders these murders the more horrible is the fact that a considerable number of the victims were women and children. Nantes was at this time crowded with the orphaned children of the Vendean counter-revolutionists. Upon a single night three hundred of these innocents were taken from the city prisons and drowned in the Loire.
The Fall of Robespierre (July, 1794).—By such terrorism did Robespierre and his creatures rule France for a little more than three months. The awful suspense and dread drove many into insanity and to suicide. The strain was too great for human nature to bear. A reaction came. The successes of the armies of the republic, and the establishment of the authority of the Convention throughout the departments, caused the people to look upon the massacres that were daily taking place as unnecessary and cruel. They began to turn with horror and pity from the scenes of the guillotine.
The first blow at the power of the dictator was struck in the Convention. A member dared to denounce him, upon the floor of the assembly, as a tyrant. The spell was broken. He was arrested and sent to the guillotine, with a large number of his confederates. The people greeted the fall of the tyrant's head with demonstrations of unbounded joy. The delirium was over. "France had awakened from the ghastly dream of the Reign of Terror (July 28, 1794)."
The Reaction.—The reaction which had swept away Robespierre and his associates continued after their ruin. The clubs of the Jacobins were closed, and that infamous society which had rallied and directed the hideous rabbles of the great cities was broken up. The deputies that had been driven from their seats in the Convention were invited to resume their places and the Christian worship was reëstablished.
Napoleon defends the Convention (Oct. 5, 1795).—These and other measures of the Convention did not fail of arousing the bitter opposition of the scattered forces of the Terrorists, as they were called; and on the 5th of October, 1795, a mob of 40,000 men advanced to the attack of the Tuileries, where the Convention was sitting. As the mob came on they were met by a storm of grape shot, which sent them flying back in wild disorder. The man who trained the guns was a young artillery officer, a native of the island of Corsica,—Napoleon Bonaparte. The Revolution had at last brought forth a man of genius capable of controlling and directing its tremendous energies.
5. The Directory (Oct. 27, 1795–Nov. 9, 1799).
The Republic becomes Aggressive.—A few weeks after the defence of the Convention by Napoleon, that body declaring its labors ended, closed its sessions, and immediately afterwards the Councils and the Board of Directors provided for by the new constitution[1] that had been framed by the Convention, assumed control of affairs.
Under the Directory the republic, which up to this time had been acting mainly on the defensive, entered upon an aggressive policy. The Revolution, having accomplished its work in France, having there destroyed royal despotism and abolished class privilege, now set itself about fulfilling its early promise of giving liberty to all peoples (see p. 658). In a word, the revolutionists became propagandists. France now exhibits what her historians call her social, her communicative genius. "Easily seduced herself," as Lamartine says, "she easily seduces others." She would make all Europe like unto herself. Herself a republic, she would make all nations republics.
Had not the minds of the people in all the neighboring countries been prepared to welcome the new order of things, the Revolution could never have spread itself as widely as it did. But everywhere irrepressible longings for social and political equality and freedom, born of long oppression, were stirring the souls of men. The French armies were everywhere welcomed as deliverers. Thus was France enabled to surround herself with a girdle of commonwealths. She conquered Europe not by her armies, but by her ideas. "An invasion of armies," says Victor Hugo, "can be resisted: an invasion of ideas cannot be resisted."
The republics established were, indeed, short-lived; for the times were not yet ripe for the complete triumph of democratic ideas. But a great gain for freedom was made. The reëstablished monarchies never dared to make themselves as despotic as those which the Revolution had overturned.
The Plans of the Directory.—Austria and England were the only formidable powers that still persisted in their hostility to the republic. The Directors resolved to strike a decisive blow at the first of these implacable foes. To carry out their designs, two large armies, numbering about 70,000 each, were mustered upon the middle Rhine, and intrusted to the command of the two young and energetic generals Moreau and Jourdan, who were to make a direct invasion of Germany. A third army, numbering about 36,000 men, was assembled in the neighborhood of Nice, in South-eastern France, and placed in the hands of Napoleon, to whom was assigned the work of driving the Austrians out of Italy.
Napoleon's Italian Campaign (1796–1797).—Straightway upon receiving his command, Napoleon, now in his twenty-seventh year, animated by visions of military glory to be gathered on the fields of Italy, hastened to join his army at Nice. He found the discontented soldiers almost without food or clothes. He at once aroused all their latent enthusiasm by one of those short, stirring addresses for which he afterwards became so famous. Then before the mountain roads were yet free from snow, he set his army in motion, and forced the passage of the low Genoese, or Maritime Alps. The Carthaginian had been surpassed. "Hannibal," exclaimed Napoleon, "crossed the Alps; as for us, we have turned them." Now followed a most astonishing series of French victories over the Austrians and their allies. As a result of the campaign a considerable part of Northern Italy was formed into a commonwealth under the name of the Cisalpine Republic. Genoa was also transformed into the Ligurian Republic.
Treaty of Campo Formio (1797).—While Napoleon had been gaining his surprising victories in Italy, Moreau and Jourdan had been meeting with severe reverses in Germany, their invading columns having been forced back upon the Rhine by the Archduke Charles. Napoleon, having effected the work assigned to the army of Italy, now climbed the Eastern Alps, and led his soldiers down upon the plains of Austria. The near approach of the French to Vienna induced the emperor, Francis II., to listen to proposals of peace. An armistice was agreed upon, and a few months afterwards the important treaty of Campo Formio was arranged. By the terms of this treaty Austria ceded her Belgian provinces to the French Republic, surrendered important provinces on the west side of the Rhine, and acknowledged the Cisalpine Republic. With the treaty arranged, Napoleon set out for Paris, where a triumph and ovation such as Europe had not seen since the days of the old Roman conquerors, awaited him.
Napoleon's Campaign in Egypt (1798–1799).—The Directors had received Napoleon with apparent enthusiasm and affection; but at this very moment they were disquieted by fears lest the conqueror's ambition might lead him to play the part of a second Caesar. They resolved to engage the young commander in an enterprise which would take him out of France. This undertaking was an attack upon England, which they were then meditating. Bonaparte opposed the plan of a direct descent upon the island as impracticable, declaring that England should be attacked through her Eastern possessions. He presented a scheme very characteristic of his bold, imaginative genius. This was nothing less than the conquest and colonization of Egypt, by which means France would be able to control the trade of the East, and cut England off from her East India possessions. The Directors assented to the plan, and with feelings of relief saw Napoleon embark from the port of Toulon to carry out the enterprise.
Escaping the vigilance of the British fleet that was patrolling the Mediterranean, Napoleon landed in Egypt July 1, 1798. Within sight of the Pyramids, the French army was checked in its march upon Cairo by a determined stand of the renowned Mameluke cavalry. Napoleon animated the spirits of his men for the inevitable fight by one of his happiest speeches. One of the nces is memorable: "Soldiers," he exclaimed, pointing to the Pyramids, "forty centuries are looking down upon you." The terrific struggle that followed is known in history as the " Battle of the Pyramids." Napoleon gained a victory that opened the way for his advance. The French now entered Cairo in triumph, and all Lower Egypt fell into their hands.
Napoleon had barely made his entrance into,, Cairo, before the startling intelligence was borne to him that his fleet had been destroyed in the bay of Aboukir, at the mouth of the Nile, by the English admiral Nelson (Aug. 1, 1798).
In the spring of 1799, Napoleon led his army into Syria, the Porte having joined a new coalition against France. He captured Gaza and Jaffa, and finally invested Acre. The Turks were assisted in the defence of this place by the distinguished English admiral, Sir Sidney Smith.[2] All of Napoleon's attempts to carry the place by storm were defeated by the skill and bravery of the English commander. "That man Sidney," said Napoleon afterwards, "made me miss my destiny." Doubtless Napoleon's vision of conquests in the East embraced Persia and India. With the ports of Syria secured, he would have imitated Alexander, and led his soldiers to the foot of the Himalayas.
Bitterly disappointed, Napoleon abandoned the siege of Acre, and led his army back into Egypt. There his worn and thinned ranks were attacked near Aboukir by a fresh Turkish army, but the genius of Napoleon turned threatened defeat into a brilliant victory. The enthusiastic Kleber, one of Napoleon's lieutenants, clasping his general in his arms, exclaimed, " Sire, your greatness is like that of the universe."
Establishment of the Tiberine, Helvetic, and Parthenopæan Republics.—We must turn now to view affairs in Europe. The year 1 798 was a favorable one for the republican cause represented by the Revolution. During that year and the opening month of the following one, the French set up three new republics. First, they incited an insurrection at Rome, made a prisoner of the Pope, and proclaimed the Roman, or Tiberine, Republic. Then they invaded the Swiss cantons and united them into a commonwealth under the name of the Helvetic Republic. A little later the French troops drove the king of Naples out of his kingdom, and transformed that state into the Parthenopaean Republic. Thus were three new republics added to the commonwealths which the Revolution had already created.
The Reaction: Napoleon overthrows the Directory (18th and 19th Brumaire).—Most of this work was quickly undone. Encouraged by the victory of Nelson over the French fleet in the battle of the Nile, the leading states of Europe had formed a new coalition against the French Republic. Early in 1779 the war began, and was waged in almost every part of Europe at the same time. The campaign was on the whole extremely disastrous to the French. They were driven out of Italy, and were barely able to keep the allies off the soil of France. The Tiberine and the Parthenopæan Republics were abolished.
The reverses suffered by the French armies caused the Directory to fall into great disfavor. They were charged with having through jealousy exiled Napoleon, the only man who could save the Republic. Confusion and division prevailed everywhere. The royalists had become so strong and bold that there was danger lest they should gain control of the government. On the other hand, the threats of the Jacobins began to create apprehensions of another Reign of Terror.
News of the desperate state of affairs at home reached Napoleon just after his victory in Egypt, following his return from Syria. He instantly formed a bold resolve. Confiding the command of the army in Egypt to Kleber, he set sail for France, disclosing his designs in the significant words, "The reign of the lawyers is over."
Napoleon was welcomed in France with the wildest enthusiasm. A great majority of the people felt instinctively that the emergency demanded a dictator. Some of the Directors joined with Napoleon in a plot to overthrow the government. Meeting with opposition in the Council of Five Hundred, Napoleon with a body of grenadiers drove the deputies from their chamber (Nov. 9, 1799).
The French Revolution had at last brought forth its Cromwell (see p. 611). Napoleon was master of France. The first French Republic was at an end, and what is distinctively called the French Revolution was over. Now commences the history of the Consulate and the First Empire,—the story of that surprising career, the sun of which rose so brightly at Austerlitz and set forever at Waterloo.
- ↑ There were to be two legislative bodies,—the Council of Five Hundred and the Council of the Ancients, the latter embracing two hundred and fifty persons, of whom no one could be under fifty years of age. The executive power was vested in a board of five persons, which was called the Directory.
- ↑ The besieged were further assisted by a Turkish army outside. With these the French fought the noted Battle of Mount Tabor, in which they gained a complete victory.