opposition of the parliament was systematic, that it would be
renewed on every fresh demand for subsidies, or on the
authorization of every loan. Exile was but a momentary remedy,
which suspended opposition, without destroying it. He then
projected the reduction of this body to judicial functions.
... All the magistracy of France was exiled on the same day,
in order that the new judicial organization might take place.
The keeper of the seals deprived the Parliament of Paris of
its political attributes, to invest with them a plenary court,
ministerially composed, and reduced its judicial competence in
favour of bailiwicks, the jurisdiction of which he extended.
Public opinion was indignant; the Châtelet protested, the
provinces rose, and the plenary court could neither be formed
nor act. Disturbances broke out in Dauphiné, Brittany,
Provence, Flanders, Languédoc, and Béarn; the ministry,
instead of the regular opposition of parliament, had to
encounter one much more animated and factious.
{1256}
The nobility, the third estate, the provincial states, and
even the clergy, took part in it. Brienne, pressed for money,
had called together an extraordinary assembly of the clergy,
who immediately made an address to the king, demanding the
abolition of his plenary court, and the recall of the
states-general: they alone could thenceforth repair the
disordered state of the finances, secure the national debt,
and terminate these disputes for power. ... Obtaining neither
taxes nor loans, unable to make use of the plenary court, and
not wishing to recall the parliaments, Brienne, as a last
resource, promised the convocation of the states-general. By
this means he hastened his ruin. ... He succumbed on the 25th
August, 1788. The cause of his fall was a suspension of the
payment of the interest on the debt, which was the
commencement of bankruptcy. This minister has been the most
blamed because he came last. Inheriting the faults, the
embarrassments of past times, he had to struggle with the
difficulties of his position with inefficient means. He tried
intrigue and oppression; he banished, suspended, disorganized
parliament; everything was an obstacle to him, nothing aided
him. After a long struggle, he sank under lassitude and
weakness; I dare not say from incapacity, for had he been far
stronger and more skilful, had he been a Richelieu or a Sully,
he would still have fallen. It no longer appertained to anyone
arbitrarily to raise money or to oppress the people. ... The
states-general had become the only means of government, and
the last resource of the throne. They had been eagerly
demanded by parliament and the peers of the kingdom, on the
13th of July, 1787; by the states of Dauphiné, in the assembly
of Vizille; by the clergy in its assembly at Paris. The
provincial states had prepared the public mind for them; and
the notables were their precursors. The king after having, on
the 18th of December, 1787, promised their convocation in five
years, on the 8th of August, 1788, fixed the opening for the
1st of May, 1789. Necker was recalled, parliament
re-established, the plenary court abolished, the bailiwicks
destroyed, and the provinces satisfied; and the new minister
prepared everything for the election of deputies and the
holding of the states. At this epoch a great change took place
in the opposition, which till then had been unanimous. Under
Brienne, the ministry had encountered opposition from all the
various bodies of the state, because it had sought to oppress
them. Under Necker, it met with resistance from the same
bodies, which desired power for themselves and oppression for
the people. From being despotic, it had become national, and
it still had them all equally against it. Parliament had
maintained a struggle for authority, and not for the public
welfare; and the nobility had united with the third estate,
rather against the government than in favour of the people.
Each of these bodies had demanded the states-general: the
parliament, in the hope of ruling them as it had done in 1614;
and the nobility, in the hope of regaining its lost influence.
Accordingly, the magistracy proposed as a model for the
states-general of 1789, the form of that of 1614, and public
opinion abandoned it; the nobility refused its consent to the
double representation of the third estate, and a division
broke out between these two orders. This double representation
was required by the intellect of the age, the necessity of
reform, and by the importance which the third estate had
acquired. It had already been admitted into the the provincial
assemblies. ... Opinion became daily more decided, and Necker
wishing, yet fearing, to satisfy it, and desirous of
conciliating all orders, of obtaining general approbation,
convoked a second assembly of notables on the 6th of November,
1788, to deliberate on the composition of the states-general,
and the election of its members. ... Necker, having been
unable to make the notables adopt the [double] representation
of the third estate, caused it to be adopted by the council.
The royal declaration of the 27th of November decreed, that
the deputies in the states-general should amount to at least a
thousand, and that the deputies of the third estate should be
equal in number to the deputies of the nobility and clergy
together. Necker moreover obtained the admission of the curés
into the order of the clergy, and of protestants into that of
the third estate. The district assemblies were convoked for
the elections; every one exerted himself to secure the
nomination of members of his own party, and to draw up
manifestoes setting forth his views. Parliament had but little
influence in the elections, and the court none at all. The
nobility selected a few popular deputies, but for the most
part devoted to the interests of their order, and as much
opposed to the third estate as to the oligarchy of the great
families of the court. The clergy nominated bishops and abbés
attached to privilege, and cures favourable to the popular
cause, which was their own; lastly, the third estate selected
men enlightened, firm and unanimous in their wishes. The
deputation of the nobility was comprised of 242 gentlemen, and
28 members of the parliament; that of the clergy, of 48
archbishops or bishops, 35 abbés or deans, and 208 curés; and
that of the communes, of two ecclesiastics, 12 noblemen, 18
magistrates of towns, 200 county members, 212 barristers, 16
physicians, and 216 merchants and agriculturists. The opening
of the states-general was fixed for the 5th of May, 1789."
F. A. Mignet,
History of the French Revolution,
introd.
ALSO IN:
W. Smyth,
Lectures on the History of the French Revolution,
lecture 6 (volume 1).
J. Necker,
On the French Revolution,
part 1, section 1.
FRANCE: A. D. 1789.
The condition of the people on the eve of the great
Revolution.
The sources and causes of its destructive fury.
"In 1789 three classes of persons, the Clergy, the Nobles, and
the King occupied the most prominent position in the State,
with all the advantages which it comports; namely, authority,
property, honors, or, at the very least, privileges,
immunities, favors, pensions, preferences, and the like. ...
The privileged classes number about 270,000 persons,
comprising of the nobility 140,000 and of the clergy 130,000.
This makes from 25,000 to 30,000 noble families; 23,000 monks
in 2,500 monasteries, and 37,000 nuns in 1,500 convents, and
60,000 curates and vicars in as many churches and chapels.
Should the reader desire a more distinct impression of them,
he may imagine on each square league of territory, and to each
thousand of inhabitants, one noble family in its weathercock
mansion, in each village a curate and his church, and, every
six or seven leagues, a conventual body of men or of women. ...
{1257}
A fifth of the soil belongs to the crown and the communes, a
fifth to the third estate, a fifth to the rural population, a
fifth to the nobles and a fifth to the clergy. Accordingly, if
we deduct the public lands, the privileged classes own one
half of the kingdom. This large portion, moreover, is at the
same time the richest, for it comprises almost all the large
and handsome buildings, the palaces, castles, convents, and
cathedrals, and almost all the valuable movable property. ...
Such is the total or partial exemption from taxation. The
tax-collectors halt in their presence, because the king well
knows that feudal property has the same origin as his own; if
royalty is one privilege seigniory is another; the king
himself is simply the most privileged among the privileged.
... After the assaults of 450 years, taxation, the, first of
fiscal instrumentalities, the most burdensome of all, leaves
feudal property almost intact. ... The privileged person
avoids or repels taxation, not merely because it despoils him,
but because it belittles him; it is a mark of plebeian
condition, that is to say, of former servitude, and he resists
the fisc as much through pride as through interest. ... La
Bruyère wrote, just a century before 1789, 'Certain
savage-looking beings, male and female, are seen in the
country, black, livid and sunburnt, and belonging to the soil
which they dig and grub with invincible stubbornness. They
seem capable of articulation, and, when they stand erect they
display human lineaments. They are, in fact, men. They retire
at night into their dens, where they live on black bread,
water and roots. They spare other human beings the trouble of
sowing, ploughing and harvesting, and thus should not be in
want of the bread they have planted.' They continue in want of
it during 25 years after this, and die in herds. I estimate
that in 1715 more than one-third of the population, six
millions, perish with hunger and of destitution. The picture,
accordingly, for the first quarter of the century preceding
the Revolution, far from being overdrawn, is the reverse; we
shall see that, during more than half a century, up to the
death of Louis XV., it is exact; perhaps, instead of weakening
any of its points, they should be strengthened. . . .
Undoubtedly the government under Louis XVI. is milder; the
intendants are more humane, the administration is less rigid,
the 'taille' becomes less unequal, and the 'corvée' is less
onerous through its transformation, in short, misery has
diminished, and yet this is greater than human nature can
bear. Examine administrative correspondence for the last
thirty years preceding the Revolution. Countless statements
reveal excessive suffering, even when not terminating in fury.
Life to a man of the lower class, to an artisan, or workman,
subsisting on the labor of his own hands, is evidently
precarious; he obtains simply enough to keep him from
starvation and he does not always get that. Here, in four
districts, 'the inhabitants live only on buckwheat,' and for
five years, the apple crop having failed, they drink only
water. There, in a country of vineyards, 'the vine-dressers
each year are reduced, for the most part, to begging their
bread during the dull season.' ... In a remote canton the
peasants cut the grain still green and dry it in the oven,
because they are too hungry to wait. ... Between 1750 and
1760, the idlers who eat suppers begin to regard with
compassion and alarm the laborers who go without dinners. Why
are the latter so impoverished, and by what chance, on a soil
as rich as that of France, do those lack bread who grow the
grain? In the first place, many farms remain uncultivated,
and, what is worse, many are deserted. According to the best
observers 'one-quarter of the soil is absolutely lying waste.
... Hundreds and hundreds of arpents of heath and moor form
extensive deserts.' ... This is not sterility but decadence.
The régime invented by Louis XIV. has produced its effect; the
soil for a century past is reverting back to a wild state. ... In
the second place, cultivation, when it does take place, is
carried on according to mediæval modes. Arthur Young, in 1789,
considers that French agriculture has not progressed beyond
that of the 10th century. Except in Flanders and on the plains
of Alsace, the fields lie fallow one year out of three and
oftentimes one year out of two. The implements are poor; there
are no ploughs made of iron; in many places the plough of
Virgil's time is still in use. ... Arthur Young shows that in
France those who lived on field labor, and they constituted
the great majority, are 76 per cent. less comfortable than the
same laborers in England, while they are 76 per cent. less
well fed and well clothed, besides being worse treated in
sickness and in health. The result is that, in seven-eighths
of the kingdom, there are no farmers but simply métayers.
['The poor people,' says Arthur Young, 'who cultivate the soil
here are métayers, that is, men who hire the land without ability
to stock it; the proprietor is forced to provide cattle and
seed, and he and his tenants divide the product.'] ... Misery
begets bitterness in a man; but ownership coupled with misery
renders him still more bitter"; and, strange as it appears,
the acquisition of land by the French peasants, in small
holdings, went on steadily during the 18th century, despite
the want and suffering which were so universal. "The fact is
almost incredible, but it is nevertheless true. We can only
explain it by the character of the French peasant, by his
sobriety, his tenacity, his rigor with himself, his
dissimulation, his hereditary passion for property and
especially for that of the soil. He had lived on privations
and economized sou after sou. ... Towards 1760, one-quarter of
the soil is said to have already passed into the hands of
agriculturists. ... The small cultivator, however, in becoming
a possessor of the soil assumed its charges. Simply as
day-laborer, and with his arms alone, he was only partially
affected by the taxes; 'where there is nothing the king loses
his dues.' But now, vainly is he poor and declaring himself
still poorer; the fisc has a hold on him and on every portion
of his new possessions. ... In 1715, the 'taille' [see TAILLE
AND GABELLE] and the poll-tax, which he alone pays, or nearly
alone, amounts to 66,000,000 livres, the amount is 93,000,000
in 1759 and 110,000,000 in 1789. ... 'I am miserable because
too much is taken from me. Too much is taken from me because
not enough is taken from the privileged. Not only do the
privileged force me to pay in their place, but, again, they
previously deduct from my earnings their ecclesiastical and
feudal dues. When, out of my income of 100 francs, I have
parted with 53 francs, and more, to the collector, I am
obliged again to give 14 francs to the seignior, also more
than 14 for tithes, and, out of the remaining 18 or 19 francs,
I have additionally to satisfy the excise-men.
{1258}
I alone, a poor man, pay two governments, one, the old
government [the seigniorial government of the feudal regime],
local and now absent, useless, inconvenient and humiliating,
and active only through annoyances, exemptions and taxes; and
the other [the royal government], recent, centralized,
everywhere present, which, taking upon itself all functions,
has vast needs and makes my meagre shoulders support its
enormous weight.' These, in precise terms, are the vague ideas
beginning to ferment in the popular brain and encountered on
every page of the records of the States-General. ... The
privileged wrought their own destruction. ... At their head,
the king, creating France by devoting himself to her as if his
own property, ended by sacrificing her as if his own property;
the public purse is his private purse, while passions, vanities,
personal weaknesses, luxurious habits, family solicitudes, the
intrigues of a mistress and the caprices of a wife, govern a
state of 26,000,000 men with an arbitrariness, a heedlessness,
a prodigality, an unskilfulness, an absence of consistency,
that would scarcely be overlooked in the management of a
private domain. The king and the privileged excel in one
direction, in good-breeding, in good taste, in fashion, in the
talent for self-display and in entertaining, in the gift of
graceful conversation, in finesse and in gayety, in the art of
converting life into a brilliant and ingenious festivity. ...
Through the habit, perfection and sway of polished intercourse
they stamped on the French intellect a classic form, which,
combined with recent scientific acquisitions, produced the
philosophy of the 18th century, the ill-repute of tradition,
the ambition of recasting all human institutions according to
the sole dictates of reason, the appliance of mathematical
methods to politics and morals, the catechism of the rights of
man, and other dogmas of anarchical and despotic character in
the 'Contrat Social.'--Once this chimera is born they welcome
it as a drawing-room fancy; they use the little monster as a
plaything, as yet innocent and decked with ribbons like a
pastoral lambkin; they never dream of it becoming a raging,
formidable brute; they nourish it, and caress it, and then,
opening their doors, they let it descend into the
streets.--Here, amongst a middle class which the government
has rendered ill-disposed by compromising its fortunes, which
the privileged have offended by restricting its ambition,
which is wounded by inequality through injured self-esteem,
the revolutionary theory gains rapid accessions, a sudden
asperity, and, in a few years, it finds itself undisputed
master of public opinion.--At this moment, and at its summons,
another colossal monster rises up, a monster with millions of
heads, a blind, startled animal, an entire people pressed
down, exasperated and suddenly loosed against the government
whose exactions have despoiled it, against the privileged
whose rights have reduced it to starvation."
H. A. Taine,
The Ancient Régime,
book 1, chapters 1, 2,
and book 5, chapters 1, 2, 5.
"When the facts of history are fully and impartially set
forth, the wonder is rather that sane men put up with the
chaotic imbecility, the hideous injustices, the shameless
scandals, of the 'Ancien Regime,' in the earlier half of the
century, many years before the political 'Philosophes' wrote a
line,--why the Revolution did not break out in 1754 or 1757,
as it was on the brink of doing, instead of being delayed, by
the patient endurance of the people, for another generation.
It can hardly be doubted that the Revolution of '89 owed many
of its worst features to the violence of a populace degraded
to the level of the beasts by the effect of the institutions
under which they herded together and starved; and that the
work of reconstruction which it attempted was to carry into
practice the speculations of Mably and of Rousseau. But, just
as little, does it seem open to question that, neither the
writhings of the dregs of the populace in their misery, nor
the speculative demonstrations of the Philosophers, would have
come to much, except for the revolutionary movement which had
been going on ever since the beginning of the century. The
deeper source of this lay in the just and profound griefs of
at least 95 per cent. of the population, comprising all its
most valuable elements, from the agricultural peasants to the
merchants and the men of letters and science, against the
system by which they were crushed, or annoyed, whichever way
they turned. But the surface current was impelled by the
official defenders of the 'Ancien Régime' themselves. It was
the Court, the Church, the Parliaments, and, above all, the
Jesuits, acting in the interests of the despotism of the
Papacy, who, in the first half of the 18th century,
effectually undermined all respect for authority, whether
civil or religious, and justified the worst that was or could
be said by the 'Philosophes' later on."
See
PORT ROYAL AND THE JANSENISTS: A. D. 1702-1715;
and JESUITS: A.D. 1761-1767.
Prof. T. H. Huxley,
Introduction to F. Rocquain's
"The Revolutionary Spirit preceding
the French Revolution"
"I took part in the opening of the States-General, and, in
spite of the pomp with which the royal power was still
surrounded, I there saw the passing away of the old regime.
The regime which preceded '89, should, it seems to me, be
considered from a two-fold aspect: the one, the general
condition of the country, and the other, the relations
existing between the government and the country. With regard
to the former, I firmly believe that, from the earliest days
of the monarchy, France had at no period been happier than she
was then. She had not felt the effects of any great misfortune
since the crash which followed Law's system. The long lasting
ministry of Cardinal de Fleury, doubtless inglorious, but wise
and circumspect, had made good the losses and lightened the
burdens imposed at the end of the reign of Louis XV. If, since
that time, several wars undertaken with little skill, and
waged with still less, had compromised the honor of her arms
and the reputation of her government; if they had even thrown
her finances into a somewhat alarming state of disorder, it is
but fair to say that the confusion resulting therefrom had
merely affected the fortune of a few creditors, and had not
tapped the sources of public prosperity; on the contrary, what
is styled the public administration had made constant
progress. If, on the one hand, the state had not been able to
boast of any great ministers, on the other, the provinces
could show many highly enlightened and clever intendants.
Roads had been opened connecting numerous points, and had been
greatly improved in all directions. It should not be forgotten
that these benefits are principally due to the reign of Louis
XV. Their most important result had been a progressive
improvement in the condition of agriculture.
{1259}
The reign of Louis XVI. had continued favoring this wise
policy, which had not been interrupted by the, maritime war
undertaken on behalf of American independence. Many
cotton-mills had sprung, up, while considerable progress had
been made in the manufacture of printed cotton fabrics, and of
steel, and in the preparing of skins. ... I saw the splendors
of the Empire. Since the Restoration I see daily new fortunes
spring up and consolidate themselves; still nothing so far
has, in my eyes, equalled the splendor of Paris during the
years which elapsed between 1783 and 1789. ... Far be it from
me to shut my eyes to the reality of the public prosperity
which we are now [1822] enjoying. I am cognizant of the
improvement in the condition of the country districts, and I
am aware of the fact that all that rests on this solid
foundation, even though its appearance may be somewhat more
humble, is much to be preferred to a grander exterior that
might hide a less assured solidity. I do not seek to disparage
the present time--far from it. I am ready to admit the
advantages which have accrued, in many respects, as the
results of the Revolution; as, for instance, the partition of
landed property, so often assailed, and which, so long as it
does not go beyond certain limits, tends to increase wealth,
by introducing into many families a well-being hitherto
unknown to them. But, nevertheless, when I question my reason
and my conscience as to the possible future of the France of
1789, if the Revolution had not burst, if the ten years of
destruction to which it gave birth had not weighed heavily
upon that beautiful country ... I am convinced that France, at
the time I am writing, would be richer and stronger than she
is to-day."
Chancellor Pasquier,
Memoirs,
pages 44-47.
"In the spring of 1789 who could have foreseen the bloody
catastrophe? Everything was tinged with hopefulness; the world
was dreaming of the Golden Age. ... Despite the previous
disorders, and seeds of discord contained in certain cahiers,
the prevailing sentiment was confidence. ... The people
everywhere hailed with enthusiasm the new era which was
dawning. With a firm king, with a statesman who knew what he
wished, and was determined to accomplish it, this confidence
would have been an incomparable force. With a feeble prince
like Louis XVI., with an irresolute minister like Necker, it
was an appalling danger. The public, inflamed by the anarchy
that had preceded the convocation of the States, disposed,
through its inexperience, to accept all Utopias, and impelled
by its peculiar character to desire their immediate
realization, naturally grew more exacting in proportion as
they were promised more, and more impatient and irritable as
their hopes became livelier and appeared better founded. In
the midst of this general satisfaction there was but one dark
spot,--the queen. The cheers which greeted the king were
silent before his wife. Calumny had done its work; and all the
nobles from the provinces, the country curates, the citizens
of the small towns, came from the confines of France imbued
with the most contemptible prejudices against this unfortunate
princess. Pamphlets, poured out against her by malicious
enemies; vague and mysterious rumours, circulated everywhere,
repeated in whispers, without giving any clew to their
source,--the more dangerous because indefinite, and the more
readily believed because infamous and absurd,--had so often
reiterated that the queen was author of all the evil, that the
world had come to regard her as the cause of the deficit, and
the only serious obstacle to certain efficacious reforms. 'The
queen pillages on all sides; she even sends money, it is said,
to her brother, the emperor,' wrote a priest of Maine, in his
parochial register, in 1781; and he attributed the motive of
the reunion of the Notables to these supposed depredations.
If, in 1781, such reports had penetrated to the remotest parts
of the country, and found credence with such enlightened men
as the Curé Boucher, one can judge what it must have been two
years later, when the convocation of the States-General had
inflamed the minds of the people. If the States should
encounter any inevitable obstacle in their path; if certain
imprudent promises should be unfulfilled; if promised reforms
should fail,--public resentment and ill-will, always on the
alert, would be sure to blame Marie Antoinette; they would
impute to her all the evil done, and all the good left undone.
The symptoms of this distrust were manifest at the outset.
'The deputies of the Third Estate,' Madame Campan observes,
'arrived at Versailles with the strongest prejudice against
the court. The evil sayings in Paris never failed to be spread
through the provinces: they believed that the king indulged in
the pleasures of the table to a most shameful excess; they
were persuaded that the queen exhausted the State treasury to
gratify her inordinate love of luxury; almost all wished to
visit Little Trianon. As the extreme simplicity of this
pleasure-house did not correspond with their ideas, they
insisted on being shown even the smallest closets, saying that
richly furnished apartments were being concealed from them.
Finally they designated one, which according to their account
was ornamented with diamonds, and twisted columns studded with
sapphires and rubies. The queen was amused at these mad
fancies, and told the king of them.'"
M. de la Rocheterie,
Life of Marie Antoinette,
volume 2, chapter 1.
ALSO IN:
A. de Tocqueville,
On the State of Society
in France before the Revolution.
A. Young,
Travels in France, 1787-89.
R. H. Dabney,
Causes of the French Revolution.
E. J. Lowell,
The Eve of the French Revolution.
FRANCE: A. D. 1789 (May).
Meeting of the States-General.
Conflict between the three Estates.
The question of three Houses or one.
"The opening of the States-general was fixed for the 5th of
May, 1789, and Versailles was chosen as the place of their
meetings. On the 4th, half Paris poured into that town to see
the court and the deputies marching in procession to the
solemn religious ceremony, which was to inaugurate the
important epoch. ... On the following day, the States-general,
to the number of 1,200 persons, assembled in the spacious and
richly decorated 'salle des menus plaisirs.' The King
appeared, surrounded by his family, with all the magnificence
of the ancient court, and was greeted by the enthusiastic
applause of the deputies and spectators." The king made a
speech, followed by Barentin, the keeper of the great seal,
and by Necker. The latter "could not prevail upon himself to
avow to the Assembly the real state of affairs. He announced
an annual deficit of 56,000,000 francs, and thereby confused
the mind of the public, which, since the meeting of the
Notables, had always been discussing a deficit of from
120,000,000 to 140,000,000.
{1260}
He was quite right in assuming that those 56,000,000 might be
covered by economy in the expenditure; but it was both
irritating and untrue, when he, on this ground, denied the
necessity of summoning the States-general, and called their
convocation a free act of royal favour. ... The balance of
income and expenditure might, indeed, easily be restored in
the future, but the deficit of former years had been
heedlessly allowed to accumulate, and by no one more than by
Necker himself. A floating debt of 550,000,000 had to be
faced--in other words, therefore, more than a whole year's
income had been expended in advance. ... The real deficit of
the year, therefore, at the lowest calculation, amounted to
more than 200,000,000, or nearly half the annual income. ...
These facts, then, were concealed, and thus the ministry was
necessarily placed in a false position towards the
States-general; the continuance of the former abuses was
perpetuated, or a violent catastrophe made inevitable. ... For
the moment the matter was not discussed. Everything yielded to
the importance of the constitutional question--whether the
three orders should deliberate in common or apart--whether
there should be one single representative body, or independent
corporations. This point was mooted at once in its full extent
on the question, whether the validity of the elections should
be scrutinised by each order separately, or by the whole
Assembly. We need not here enter into the question of right;
but of this there can be no doubt, that the government, which
virtually created the States-general afresh [since there had
been no national meeting of the Estates since the
States-general of 1614-see above: A. D. 1610-1619], had the
formal right to convoke them either in one way or the other,
as it thought fit. ... They [the government] infinitely
lowered their own influence and dignity by leaving a most
important constitutional question to the decision and the
wrangling of the three orders; and they frustrated their own
practical objects, by not decidedly declaring for the union of
the orders in one assembly. Every important measure of reform,
which had in view the improvement of the material and
financial condition of the country, would have been mutilated
by the clergy and rejected by the nobles. This was
sufficiently proved by the 'cahiers' of the electors ['written
instructions given by the electors to the deputies']. The
States themselves had to undertake what the government had
neglected. That which the government might have freely and
legally commanded, now led to violent revolution. But there
was no choice left; the commons would not tolerate the
continuance of the privileged orders; and the state could not
tolerate them if it did not wish to perish. The commons, who
on this point were unanimous, considered the system of a
single Assembly as a matter of course. They took care not to
constitute themselves as 'tiers état,' but remained passive,
and declared that they would wait until the Assembly should be
constituted as a whole. Thus slowly and cautiously did they
enter on their career. ... Indisputably the most important and
influential among them was Count Mirabeau, the representative
of the town of Aix in Provence, a violent opponent of
feudalism, and a restless participator in all the recent
popular commotions. He would have been better able than any
man to stimulate the Assembly to vigorous action; but even he
hesitated, and kept back his associates from taking any
violent steps, because he feared that the inconsistency and
inexperience of the majority would bring ruin on the state.
... It was only very gradually that the 'tiers état' began to
negotiate with the other orders. The nobles shewed themselves
haughty, dogmatical, and aggressive; and the clergy cautious,
unctuous, and tenacious. They tried the efficacy of general
conferences; but as no progress was found to have been made
after three weeks, they gave up their consultations on the
25th of May. The impatience of the public, and the necessities
of the treasury, continually increased; the government,
therefore, once more intervened, and Necker was called upon to
propose a compromise," which was coldly rejected by the
nobles, who "declared that they had long ago finished their
scrutiny, and constituted themselves as a separate order. They
thus spared the commons the dreaded honour of being the first
to break with the crown. The conferences were again closed on
the 9th of June. The leaders of the commons now saw that they
must either succumb to the nobility, or force the other orders
to submission."
H. von Sybel,
History of the French Revolution.,
book 1, chapter 2 (volume 1).
ALSO IN:
W. Smyth,
Lectures on the History of the French Revolution,
lecture 8 (volume 1).
Prince de Talleyrand,
Memoirs,
part 1 (volume 1).
FRANCE: A. D. 1789 (June).
The Third Estate seizes the reins, proclaims itself the
National Assembly, and assumes sovereign powers.
The passionate excitement of Paris.
Dismissal of Necker.
Rising of the mob.
"At last ... on the proposal of Sieyès [the Abbé, deputy for
Paris] and amid a storm of frantic excitement, the Third
Estate alone voted themselves 'the National Assembly,' invited
the other two orders to join them, and pushing their
pretensions to sovereignty to the highest point, declared that
the existing taxes, not having been consented to by the
nation, were all illegal. The National Assembly, however,
allowed them to be levied till its separation, after which
they were to cease if not formally regranted. This great
revolution was effected on June 17, and it at once placed the
Third Order in a totally new relation both to the other orders
and to the Crown. There were speedy signs of yielding among
some members of the privileged orders, and a fierce wave of
excitement supported the change. Malouet strongly urged that
the proper course was to dissolve the Assembly and to appeal
to the constituencies, but Necker declined, and a feeble and
ineffectual effort of the King to accomplish a reunion, and at
the same time to overawe the Third Order, precipitated the
Revolution. The King announced his intention of holding a
royal session on June 22, and he summoned the three orders to
meet him. It was his design to direct them to unite in order
to deliberate in common on matters of common interest, and to
regain the royal initiative by laying down the lines of a new
constitution. ... On Saturday, the 20th, however, the course
of events was interrupted by the famous scene in the tennis
court. Troops had lately been pouring to an alarming extent
into Paris, and exciting much suspicion in the popular party,
and the Government very injudiciously selected for the royal
session on the following Monday the hall in which the Third
Order assembled. The hall was being prepared for the occasion,
and therefore no meeting could be held.
{1261}
The members, ignorant of the fact, went to their chamber and
were repelled by soldiers. Furious at the insult, they
adjourned to the neighbouring tennis court [Jeu-de-Paume]. A
suspicion that the King meant to dissolve them was abroad, and
they resolved to resist such an attempt. With lifted hands and
in a transport of genuine, if somewhat theatrical enthusiasm,
they swore that they would never separate 'till the
constitution of the kingdom and the regeneration of public
order were established on a solid basis.' ... One single
member, Martin d'Auche, refused his assent. The Third Estate
had thus virtually assumed the sole legislative authority in
France, and like the Long Parliament in England had denied the
King's power to dissolve them. ... Owing to the dissension
that had arisen, the royal session was postponed till the
23rd, but on the preceding day the National Assembly met in a
church, and its session was a very important one, for on this
occasion a great body of the clergy formally joined it. One
hundred and forty-eight members of the clergy, of whom 134
were curés, had now given their adhesion. Two of the nobles,
separating from their colleagues, took the same course. Next
day the royal session was held. The project adopted in the
council differed so much from that of Necker that this
minister refused to give it the sanction of his presence.
Instead of commanding the three orders to deliberate together
in the common interest, it was determined in the revised
project that the King should merely invite them to do so. ...
It was ... determined to withdraw altogether from the common
deliberation 'the form of the constitution to be given to the
coming States-General,' and to recognise fully the essential
distinction of the three orders as political bodies, though
they might, with the approval of the Sovereign, deliberate in
common. Necker had proposed ... that the King should
decisively, and of his own authority, abolish all privileges
of taxation, but in the amended article the King only
undertook to give his sanction to this measure on condition of
the two orders renouncing their privileges. On the other hand,
the King announced to the Assembly a long series of articles
of reform which would have made France a thoroughly
constitutional country, and have swept away nearly all the
great abuses in its government. ... He annulled the
proceedings of June 17, by which the Third Estate alone
declared itself the Legislature of France. He reminded the
Assembly that none of its proceedings could acquire the force
of law without his assent, and he asserted his sole right as
French Sovereign to the command of the army and police. He
concluded by directing the three orders to withdraw and to
meet next day to consider his proposals. The King, with the
nobles and the majority of the clergy, at once withdrew, but
the Third Order defiantly remained. It was evident that the
attempt to conciliate, and the attempt to assert the royal
authority, had both failed. The Assembly proclaimed itself
inviolable. It confirmed the decrees which the King had
annulled. Sieyès declared, in words which excited a transport
of enthusiasm, that what the Assembly was yesterday it still
was to-day; and two days later, the triumph of the Assembly
became still more evident by the adhesion of 47 of the
nobility. After this defection the King saw the hopelessness
of resistance, and on the 27th he ordered the remainder of the
nobles to take the same course. ... In the mean time the real
rulers of the country were coming rapidly to the surface. ...
Groups of local agitators and of the scum of the Paris mob
began to overawe the representatives of the nation, and to
direct the course of its policy. Troops were poured into
Paris, but their presence was an excitement without being a
protection, for day after day it became more evident that
their discipline was gone, and that they shared the sympathies
and the passions of the mob. ... At the same time famine grew
daily more intense, and the mobs more passionate and more
formidable. The dismissal of Necker on the evening of July 11
was the spark which produced the conflagration that had long
been preparing. Next day Paris flew to arms. The troops with
few exceptions abandoned the King."
W. E. H. Lecky,
History of England in the 18th Century,
chapter 20 (volume 5).
ALSO IN:
E. Dumont,
Recollections of Mirabeau,
chapters 4-5.
FRANCE: A. D. 1789 (July).
The mob in arms.
Anarchy in Paris.
The taking of the Bastille.
"On the 12th of July, near noon, on the news of the dismissal
of Necker, a cry of rage arises in the Palais-Royal; Camille
Desmoulins, mounted on a table, announces that the Court
meditates 'a St. Bartholomew of patriots.' The crowd embrace
him, adopt the green cockade which he has proposed, and oblige
the dancing-saloons and theatres to close in sign of mourning:
they hurry off to the residence of Curtius [a plaster-cast
master], and take the busts of the Duke of Orleans and of
Necker and carry them about in triumph. Meanwhile, the
dragoons of the Prince de Lambesc, drawn up on the Place
Louis-Quinze, find a barricade of chairs at the entrance of
the Tuilleries, and are greeted with a shower of stones and
bottles. Elsewhere, on the Boulevard, before the Hôtel
Montmorency, some of the French Guards, escaped from their
barracks, fired on a loyal detachment of the 'Royal Allemand.'
The tocsin is sounding on all sides, the shops where arms are
sold are pillaged, and the Hôtel-de-Ville is invaded; 15 or 16
well-disposed electors, who meet there, order the districts to
be assembled and armed.--The new sovereign, the people in arms
and in the street, has declared himself. The dregs of society
at once come to the surface. During the night between the 12th
and 13th of July, 'all the barriers, from the Faubourg
Saint-Antoine to the Faubourg Saint-Honoré, besides those of
the Faubourgs Saint-Marcel and Saint-Jacques, are forced and
set on fire.' There is no longer an 'octroi'; the city is
without a revenue just at the moment when it is obliged to
make the heaviest expenditures. ... 'During this fearful
night, the bourgeoisie kept themselves shut up, each trembling
at home for himself and those belonging to him.' On the following
day, the 13th, the capital appears to be given up to bandits
and the lowest of the low. ... During these two days and
nights, says Bailly, 'Paris ran the risk of being pillaged,
and was only saved from the marauders by the national guard.'
... Fortunately the militia organized itself, and the
principal inhabitants and gentlemen enrol themselves; 48,000
men are formed into battalions and companies; the bourgeoisie
buy guns of the vagabonds for three livres apiece, and sabres
or pistols for twelve sous. At last, some of the offenders are
hung on the spot, and others disarmed, and the insurrection again
becomes political.
{1262}
But, whatever its object, it remains always wild, because it
is in the hands of the populace. ... There is no leader, no
management. The electors who have converted themselves into
the representatives of Paris seem to command the crowd, but it
is the crowd which commands them. One of them, Legrand, to
save the Hôtel-de-Ville, has no other resource but to send for
six barrels of gun-powder, and to declare to the assailants
that he is about to blow everything into the air. The
commandant whom they themselves have chosen, M. de Salles, has
twenty bayonets at his breast during a quarter of an hour,
and, more than once, the whole committee is near being
massacred. Let the reader imagine, on the premises where the
discussions are going on, and petitions are being made, 'a
concourse of 1,500 men pressed by 100,000 others who are
forcing an entrance,' the wainscoting cracking, the benches
upset one over another ... a tumult such as to bring to mind
'the day of judgment,' the death-shrieks, songs, yells, and
'people beside themselves, for the most part not knowing where
they are nor what they want.' Each district is also a petty
centre, while the Palais-Royal is the main centre. ... One
wave gathers here and another there, their strategy consists
in pushing and in being pushed. Yet, their entrance is
effected only because they are let in. If they get into the
Invalides it is owing to the connivance of the soldiers.--At
the Bastille, firearms are discharged from ten in the morning
to five in the evening against walls 40 feet high and 30 feet
thick, and it is by chance that one of their shots reaches an
'invalide' on the towers. They are treated the same as
children whom one wishes to hurt as little as possible. The
governor, on the first summons to surrender, orders the cannon
to be withdrawn from the embrasures; he makes the garrison swear
not to fire if it is not attacked; he invites the first of the
deputations to lunch; he allows the messenger dispatched from
the Hôtel-de-Ville to inspect the fortress; he receives
several discharges without returning them, and lets the first
bridge be carried without firing a shot. When, at length, he
does fire, it is at the last extremity, to defend the second
bridge, and after having notified the assailants that he is
going to do so. ... The people, in turn, are infatuated with
the novel sensations of attack and resistance, with the smell
of gunpowder, with the excitement of the contest; all they can
think of doing is to rush against the mass of stone, their
expedients being on a level with their tactics: A brewer
fancies that he can set fire to this block of masonry by
pumping over it spikenard and poppy-seed oil mixed with
phosphorus. A young carpenter, who has some archæological
notions, proposes to construct a catapult. Some of them think
that they have seized the governor's daughter, and want to
burn her in order to make the father surrender. Others set
fire to a projecting mass of buildings filled with straw, and
thus close up the passage. 'The Bastille was not taken by main
force,' says the brave Elie, one of the combatants; 'it was
surrendered before even it was attacked,' by capitulation, on
the promise that no harm should be done to anybody. The
garrison, being perfectly secure, had no longer the heart to
fire on human beings while themselves risking nothing, and, on
the other hand, they were unnerved by the sight of the immense
crowd. Eight or nine hundred men only were concerned in the
attack, most of them workmen or shopkeepers belonging to the
faubourg, tailors, wheelwrights, mercers, and wine-dealers,
mixed with the French Guards. The Place de la Bastille,
however, and all the streets in the vicinity, were crowded
with the curious who came to witness the sight; 'among them,'
says a witness, 'were a number of fashionable women of very
good appearance, who had left their carriages at some
distance.' To the 120 men of the garrison, looking down from
their parapets, it seemed as though all Paris had come out
against them. It is they, also, who lower the drawbridge and
introduce the enemy; everybody has lost his head, the besieged
as well as the besiegers, the latter more completely because
they are intoxicated with the sense of victory. Scarcely have
they entered when they begin the work of destruction, and the
latest arrivals shoot at random those that come earlier; 'each
one fires without heeding where or on whom his shot tells.'
Sudden omnipotence and the liberty to kill are a wine too
strong for human nature. ... Elie, who is the first to enter
the fortress, Cholat, Hulin, the brave fellows who are in
advance, the French Guards who are cognizant of the laws of
war, try to keep their word of honour; but the crowd pressing
on behind them know not whom to strike, and they strike at
random. They spare the Swiss soldiers who have fired on them,
and who, in their blue smocks, seem to them to be prisoners;
on the other hand, by way of compensation, they fall furiously
on the 'invalides' who opened the gates to them; the man who
prevented the governor from blowing up the fortress has his
wrist severed by the blow of a sabre, is twice pierced with a
sword and is hung, and the hand which had saved one of the
districts of Paris is promenaded through the streets in
triumph. The officers are dragged along and five of them are
killed, with three soldiers, on the spot, or on the way." M.
de Launay, the governor, after receiving many wounds, while
being dragged to the Hotel-de-Ville, was finally killed by
bayonet thrusts, and his head, cut from his body, was
placarded and borne through the streets upon a pitchfork.
H. A. Taine,
The French Revolution,
book 1, chapter 2 (volume 1).
"I was present at the taking of the Bastille. What has been
styled the fight was not serious, for there was absolutely no
resistance shown. Within the hold's walls were neither
provisions nor ammunition. It was not even necessary to invest
it. The regiment of gardes françaises which had led the
attack, presented itself under the walls on the rue Saint
Antoine side, opposite the main entrance, which was barred by
a drawbridge. There was a discharge of a few musket shots, to
which no reply was made, and then four or five discharges from
the cannon. It has been claimed that the latter broke the
chains of the drawbridge. I did not notice this, and yet I was
standing close to the point of attack. What I did see plainly
was the action of the soldiers, invalides, or others, grouped
on the platform of the high tower, holding their muskets stock
in the air, and expressing by all means employed under similar
circumstances their desire of surrendering. The result of this
so-called victory, which brought down so many favors on the
heads of the so-called victors, is well-known. The truth is,
that this great fight did not for a moment frighten the
numerous spectators who had flocked to witness its result.
Among them were many women of fashion, who, in order to be
closer to the scene, had left their carriages some distance
away."
Chancellor Pasquier,
Memoirs,
pages 55-56.
ALSO IN:
D. Bingham,
The Bastille,
volume 2, chapters 9-12.
R. A. Davenport,
History of the Bastile,
chapter 12.
J. Claretie,
Camille Desmoulins and his Wife,
chapter 1, section 4.
{1263}
FRANCE: A. D. 1789 (July).
Practical surrender of authority by the king.
Organization of the National Guard with Lafayette in command.
Disorder and riot in the provinces.
Hunger in the capital.
The murder of Foulon and Berthier.
"The next morning the taking of the Bastille bore its intended
fruit. Marshal de Broglie, who had found, instead of a loyal
army, only disaffected regiments which had joined or were
preparing to join the mob, sent in his resignation. ... The
king, deserted by his army, his authority now quite gone, had
no means of restoring order except through the Assembly. He
begged that body to undertake the work, promising to recall
the dismissed ministers. ... The power of the king had now
passed from him to the National Assembly. But that numerous
body of men, absorbed in interminable discussions on abstract
ideas, was totally incapable of applying its power to the
government of the country. The electors at the Hotel de Ville,
on the 15th of July, resolved that there must be a mayor to
direct the affairs of Paris, and a National Guard to preserve
order. Dangers threatened from every quarter. When the
question arose as to who should fill these offices, Moreau de
Saint Méry, the president of the electors, pointed to the bust
of Lafayette, which had been sent as a gift to the city of
Paris by the State of Virginia, in 1784. The gesture was
immediately understood, and Lafayette was chosen by
acclamation. Not less unanimous was the choice of Bailly for
mayor. Lafayette was now taken from the Assembly to assume the
more active employment of commanding the National Guard. While
the Assembly pursued the destruction of the old order and the
erection of a new, Lafayette, at the age of 82, became the
chief depositary of executive power. ... Throughout France,
the deepest interest was exhibited in passing events. ... The
victory of the Assembly over the king and aristocracy led the
people of the provinces to believe that their cause was
already won. A general demoralization ensued." After the
taking of the Bastille, "the example of rebellion thus set was
speedily followed. Rioting and lawlessness soon prevailed
everywhere, increased and imbittered by the scarcity of food.
In the towns, bread riots became continual, and the
custom-houses, the means of collecting the exorbitant taxes,
were destroyed. In the rural districts, châteaux were to be
seen burning on all sides. The towers in which were preserved
the titles and documents which gave to the nobleman his
oppressive rights were carried by storm and their contents
scattered. Law and authority were fast becoming synonymous
with tyranny; the word 'liberty,' now in every mouth, had no
other signification than license. Into Paris slunk hordes of
gaunt foot-pads from all over France; attracted by the
prospect of disorder and pillage. ... From such circumstances
naturally arose the National Guard. "The king had been asked,
on the 13th, by a deputation from the Assembly, "to confide
the care of the city to a militia," and had declined. The
military organization of citizens was then undertaken by the
electors at the Hotel de Ville, without his consent, and its
commander designated without his appointment. "The king was
obliged to confirm this choice, and he was thus deprived even
of the merit of naming the chief officer of the guard whose
existence had been forced upon him." On the 17th the king was
persuaded to visit the city, for the effect which his personal
presence would have, it was thought, upon the anxious and
excited public mind. Lafayette had worked with energy to
prepare his National Guard for the difficult duty of
preserving order and protecting the royal visitor on the
occasion. "So intense was the excitement and the
insurrectionary spirit of the time, so uncertain were the
boundaries between rascality and revolutionary zeal, that it
was difficult to establish the fact that the new guard was
created to preserve order and not to fight the king and
pillage the aristocracy. The great armed mob, now in process
of organization, had to be treated with great tact, lest it
should refuse to submit to authority in any shape." But short
as the time was, Lafayette succeeded in giving to the
powerless monarch a safe and orderly reception. "The king made
his will and took the sacraments before leaving Versailles,
for ... doubts were entertained that he would live to return."
He was met at the gates of Paris by the new mayor, Bailly, and
escorted through a double line of National Guards to the Hotel
de Ville. There he was obliged to fix on his hat the national
cockade, just brought into use, and to confirm the
appointments of Lafayette and Bailly. "Louis XVI. then
returned to Versailles, on the whole pleased, as the day had
been less unpleasant than had been expected. But the
compulsory acceptation of the cockade and the nominations
meant nothing less than the extinction of his authority. ...
Lafayette recruited his army from the bourgeois class, for the
good reason that, in the fever then raging for uncontrolled
freedom, that class was the only one from which the proper
material could be taken. The importance of order was impressed
on the bourgeois by the fact that they had, shops and houses
which they did not wish to see pillaged. ... The necessity for
strict police measures was soon to be terribly illustrated.
For a week past a large crowd composed of starving workmen,
country beggars, and army deserters, had thronged the streets,
angrily demanding food. The city was extremely short of