provisions, and it was impossible to satisfy the demands made
upon it. ... On July 22, an old man named Foulon, It member of
the late ministry, who had long been the object of public
dislike, and was now detested because it was rumored that he
said that 'the people might eat' grass,' was arrested in the
country, and brought to the Hotel de Ville, followed by a mob
who demanded his immediate judgment." Lafayette exerted vainly
his whole influence and his whole authority to protect the
wretched old man until he could be lodged in prison. The mob
tore its victim from his very hands and destroyed him on the
spot. The next day, Foulon's son-in-law, Berthier, the
Intendant of Paris, was arrested in the country, and the
tragedy was re-enacted. "Shocked by these murders and
disgusted by his own inability to prevent them, Lafayette sent
his resignation to the electors, and for some time persisted
in his refusal to resume his office. But no other man could be
found in Paris equally fitted for the place; so that on the
personal solicitation of the electors and a deputation from
the 60 districts of the city, he again took command."
B. Tuckerman,
Life of General Lafayette,
volume 1, chapters 9-10.
ALSO IN:
J. Michelet,
Historical View of the French
Revolution, book 2, chapters 1-2.
{1264}
FRANCE: A. D. 1789 (July-August).
Cause and character of the "Emigration."
"Everything, or nearly everything, was done by the party
opposed to the Revolution in the excitement of the moment;
nothing was the result of reasoning. Who, for instance,
reasoned out the emigration? It has oftentimes been asked how
so extraordinary a resolution came to be taken; how it had
entered the minds of men gifted with a certain amount of sense
that there was any advantage to be derived from abandoning all
the posts where they could still exercise power; of giving
over to the enemy the regiments they commanded, the localities
over which they had control; of delivering up completely to
the teachings of the opposite party the peasantry, over whom,
in a goodly number of provinces, a valuable influence might be
exerted, and among whom they still had many friends; and all
this, to return for the purpose of conquering, at the sword's
point, positions, a number of which at least could be held
without a fight. No doubt it has been offered as an objection,
that the peasantry set fire to châteaux, that soldiers
mutinied against their officers. This was not the case at the
time of what has been called the first emigration, and, at any
rate, such doings were not general; but does danger constitute
sufficient cause for abandoning an important post? ... What is
the answer to all this? Merely what follows. The voluntary
going into exile of nearly the whole nobility of France, of
many magistrates who were never to unsheath a sword, and
lastly, of a large number of women and children,--this
resolve, without a precedent in history, was not conceived and
determined upon as a State measure; chance brought it about. A
few, in the first instance, followed the princes who had been
obliged, on the 14th of July, to seek safety out of France,
and others followed them. At first, it was merely in the
nature of a pleasant excursion. Outside of France, they might
freely enjoy saying and believing anything and everything. ...
The wealthiest were the first to incur the expense of this
trip, and a few brilliant and amiable women of the Court
circle did their share to render most attractive the sojourn
in a number of foreign towns close to the frontier. Gradually
the number of these small gatherings increased, and it was
then that the idea arose of deriving advantage from them. It
occurred to the minds of a few men in the entourage of the
Comte d'Artois, and whose moving spirit was M. de Calonne,
that it would be an easy matter for them to create a kingdom
for their sovereign outside of France, and that if they could
not in this fashion succeed in giving him provinces to reign
over, he would at least reign over subjects, and that this
would serve to give him a standing in the eyes of foreign
powers, and determine them to espouse his cause. ... Thus in
'89, '90, and '91, there were a few who were compelled to fly
from actual danger; a small number were led away by a genuine
feeling of enthusiasm; many felt themselves bound to leave,
owing to a point of honor which they obeyed without reasoning
it out; the mass thought it was the fashion, and that it
looked well; all, or almost all, were carried away by
expectations encouraged by the wildest of letters, and by the
plotting of a few ambitious folk, who were under the
impression that they were building up their fortunes."
Chancellor Pasquier,
Memoirs,
pages 64-66.
FRANCE: A. D. 1789 (August).
The Night of Sacrifices.
The sweeping out of Feudalism.
"What was the Assembly doing at this period, when Paris was
waiting in expectation, and the capture of the Bastille was
being imitated all over France; when châteaux were burning,
and nobles flying into exile; when there was positive civil
war in many a district, and anarchy in every province? Why,
the Assembly was discussing whether or not the new
constitution of France should be prefaced by a Declaration of
the Rights of Man. In the discussion of this extremely
important question were wasted the precious days which
followed July 17. ... The complacency of these theorists was
rudely shaken on August 4, when Salomon read to the Assembly
the report of the Comité des Recherches, or Committee of
Researches, on the state of France. A terrible report it was.
Châteaux burning here and there; millers hung; tax-gatherers
drowned; the warehouses and depots of the gabelle burnt;
everywhere rioting, and nowhere peace. ... Among those who
listened to the clear and forcible report of Salomon were
certain of the young liberal noblesse who had just been dining
with the Duc de la Roehefoucauld-Liancourt, a wise and
enlightened nobleman. At their head was the Vicomte de
Noailles, a young man of thirty-three, who had distinguished
himself at the head of his regiment under his cousin,
Lafayette, in America. ... The Vicomte de Noailles was the
first to rush to the tribune. 'What is the cause of the evil
which is agitating the provinces?' he cried; and then he
showed that it arose from the uncertainty under which the
people dwelt, as to whether or not the old feudal bonds under
which they had so long lived and laboured were to be
perpetuated or abolished, and concluded an impassioned speech
by proposing to abolish them at once. One after another the
young liberal noblemen, and then certain deputies of the tiers
état, followed him with fresh sacrifices. First the old feudal
rights were abolished; then the rights of the dovecote and the
game laws; then the old copyhold services; then the tithes
paid to the Church, in spite of a protest from Siéyès; then
the rights of certain cities over their immediate suburbs and
rural districts were sacrificed; and the contention during
that feverish night was rather to remember something or other
to sacrifice than to suggest the expediency of maintaining
anything which was established. In its generosity the Assembly
even gave away what did not belong to it. The old dues paid to
the pope were abolished, and it was even declared that the
territory of Avignon, which had belonged to the pope since the
Middle Ages, should be united to France if it liked; and the
sitting closed with a unanimous decree that a statue should be
erected to Louis XVI., 'the restorer of French liberty.' Well
might Mirabeau define the night of August 4 as a mere 'orgie.'
... Noble indeed were the intentions of the deputies. ...
{1265}
Yet the results of this night of sacrifices were bad rather
than good. As Mirabeau pointed out, the people of France were
told that all the feudal rights, dues, and tithes had been
abolished that evening, but they were not told at the same
time that there must be taxes and other burdens to take their
place. It was of no use to issue a provisional order that all
rights, dues, and taxes remained in force for the present,
because the poor peasant would refuse to pay what was illegal,
and would not understand the political necessity of supporting
the revenue. ... This ill-considered mass of resolutions was
what was thrown in the face of France in a state of anarchy to
restore it to a state of order."
H. M. Stephens,
History of the French Revolution,
volume 1, chapter 5.
ALSO IN:
A. Thiers, History of the French Revolution,
(American edition), volume 1, pages 81-84.
FRANCE: A. D. 1789 (August-October).
Constitution-making and the Rights of Man.
The first emigration of nobles.
Famine in Paris.
Rumors of an intended flight of the King.
"One may look upon the peculiarity of the Assembly as being a
singular faith in the power of ideas. That was its greatness.
It firmly believed that truth shaped into laws would be
invincible. Two months--such was the calculation--would
suffice to construct the constitution. That constitution by
its omnipotent virtue would convince all men and bend them to
its authority, and the revolution would be completed. Such was
the faith of the National Assembly. The attitude of the people
was so menacing that many of the courtiers fled. Thus
commenced the first emigration. ... As if the minds of men
were not sufficiently agitated, there now were heard cries of
a great conspiracy of the aristocrats. The papers announced
that a plot had been discovered which was to have delivered
Brest to the English. Brest, the naval arsenal, wherein France
for whole centuries had expended her millions and her labours:
this given up to England! England would once more overrun France!
... It was amidst these cries of alarm--with on one hand the
emigration of the nobility, on the other the hunger of a
maddened people; with here an irresolute aristocracy, startled
at the audacity of the 'canaille,' and there a resolute
Assembly, prepared, at the hazard of their lives, to work out
the liberty of France; amidst reports of famine, of
insurrections, and wild disorders of all sorts, that we find
the National Assembly debating upon the rights of man,
discussing every article with metaphysical quibbling and
wearisome fluency, and, having finally settled each article,
making their famous Declaration. This Declaration, which was
solemnly adopted by the Assembly, on the 18th of August, was
the product of a whole century of philosophical speculation,
fixed and reduced to formulas, and bearing unmistakeable
traces of Rousseau. It declared the original equality of
mankind, and that the ends of social union are liberty,
property, security, and resistance to oppression. It declared
that sovereignty resides in the nation, from whence all power
emanates; that freedom consists in doing everything which does
not injure another; that law is the expression of the general
will; that public burdens should be borne by all the members
of the state in proportion to their fortunes; that the
elective franchise should be extended to all; that the
exercise of natural rights has no other limit than their
interference with the rights of others; that no man should be
persecuted for his religious opinions, provided he conform to
the laws and do not disturb the religion of the state; that
all men have the right of quitting the state in which they
were born, and of choosing another country, by renouncing
their rights of citizenship; that the liberty of the press is
the foremost support of public liberty, and the law should
maintain it, at the same time punishing those who abuse it by
distributing seditious discourses, or calumnies against
individuals." Having adopted its Declaration of the rights of
man, the Assembly proceeded to the drawing up of a
constitution which should embody the principles of the
Declaration, and soon found itself in passionate debate upon
the relations to be established between the national
legislature and the king. Should the king retain a veto upon
legislation? Should he have any voice in the making of laws?
"The lovers of England and the English constitution all voted
in favour of the veto. Even Mirabeau was for it." Robespierre,
just coming into notice, bore a prominent part in the
opposition. "The majority of the Assembly shared Robespierre's
views; and the King's counselors were at length forced to
propose a compromise in the shape of a suspensive veto;
namely, that the King should not have the absolute right of
preventing any law, but only the right of suspending it for
two, four, or six years. ... It was carried by a large
majority." Meantime, in Paris, "vast and incalculable was the
misery: crowds of peruke-makers, tailors, and shoemakers, were
wont to assemble at the Louvre and in the Champs Elysées,
demanding things impossible to be granted; demanding that the
old regulations should be maintained, and that new ones should
be made; demanding that the rate of daily wages should be
fixed; demanding ... that all the Savoyards in the country
should be sent away, and only Frenchmen employed. The bakers'
shops were besieged, as early as five o'clock in the morning,
by hungry crowds who had to stand 'en queue'; happy when they
had money to purchase miserable bread, even in this
uncomfortable manner. ... Paris was living at the mercy of
chance: its subsistence dependent on some arrival or other:
dependent on a convoy from Beauce, or a boat from Corbeuil.
The city, at immense sacrifices, was obliged to lower the
price of bread: the consequence was that the population for
more than ten leagues round came to procure provisions at
Paris. The uncertainty of the morrow augmented the
difficulties. Everybody stored up, and concealed provisions.
The administration sent in every direction, and bought up
flour, by fair means, or by foul. It often happened that at
midnight there was but half the flour necessary for the
morning market. Provisioning Paris was a kind of war. The
National Guard was sent to protect each arrival; or to secure
certain purchases by force of arms. Speculators were afraid;
farmers would not thrash any longer; neither would the miller
grind. 'I used to see,' says Bailly, 'good tradesmen, mercers
and goldsmiths, praying to be admitted among the beggars
employed at Montmartre, in digging the ground.' Then came
fearful whispers of the King's intention to fly to Metz. What
will become of us if the King should fly? He must not fly; we
will have him here; here amongst us in Paris! This produced
the famous insurrection of women ... on the 5th October."
G. H. Lewes,
Life of Robespierre,
chapter 9.
H. von Sybel,
History of the French Revolution,
book 1, chapters 3-4 (volume 1).
{1266}
FRANCE: A. D. 1789 (October).
The Insurrection of Women.
Their march to Versailles.
"A thought, or dim raw-material of a thought, was fermenting
all night [October 4-5], universally in the female head, and
might explode. In squalid garret, on Monday morning Maternity
awakes, to hear children weeping for bread. Maternity must
forth to the streets, to the herb-markets and Bakers'-queues;
meets there with hunger-stricken Maternity, sympathetic,
exasperative. O we unhappy women! But, instead of
Bakers'-queues, why not to Aristocrats' palaces, the root of
the matter? Allons! Let us assemble. To the Hôtel-de-Ville; to
Versailles; to the Lanterne! In one of the Guard houses of the
Quartier Saint-Eustache, 'a young woman' seizes a drum,--for
how shall National Guards give fire on women, on a young
woman? The young woman seizes the drum; sets forth, beating
it, 'uttering cries relative to the dearth of grains.'
Descend, O mothers; descend, ye Judiths, to food and
revenge!--All women gather and go; crowds storm all stairs,
force out all women: the female Insurrectionary Force,
according to Camille, resembles the English Naval one; there
is a universal 'Press of women.' Robust Dames of the Halle,
slim Mantua-makers, assiduous, risen with the dawn; ancient
Virginity tripping to matins; the Housemaid, with early broom;
all must go. Rouse ye, O, women; the laggard men will not act;
they say, we ourselves may act! And so, like snowbreak from
the mountains, for every staircase is a melted brook, it
storms; tumultuous, wild-shrilling, towards the
Hôtel-de-Ville. Tumultuous; with or without drum-music: for
the Faubourg Saint-Antoine also has tucked-up its gown; and
with besom-staves, fire-irons, and even rusty pistols (void of
ammunition), is flowing on. Sound of it flies, with a velocity
of sound, to the utmost Barriers. By seven o'clock, on this
raw October morning, fifth of the month, the Townhall will see
wonders. ... Grand it was, says Camille, to see so many
Judiths, from eight to ten thousand of them in all, rushing
out to search into the root of the matter! Not unfrightful it
must have been; ludicro-terrific, and most unmanageable. At
such hour the overwatched Three Hundred are not yet stirring:
none but some Clerks, a company of National Guards; and M. de
Gouvion, the Major-general. Gouvion has fought in America for
the cause of civil Liberty; a man of no inconsiderable heart,
but deficient in head. He is, for the moment, in his back
apartment; assuaging Usher Maillard, the Bastille-sergeant,
who has come, as too many do, with 'representations.' The
assuagement is still incomplete when our Judiths arrive. The
National Guards form on the outer stairs, with levelled
bayonets; the ten thousand Judiths press up, resistless; with
obtestations, with outspread hands,--merely to speak to the
Mayor. The rear forces them; nay from male hands in the rear,
stones already fly: the National Guard must do one of two
things; sweep the Place de Greve with cannon, or else open to
right and left. They open: the living deluge rushes in.
Through all rooms and cabinets, upwards to the topmost belfry:
ravenous; seeking arms, seeking Mayors, seeking justice;--
while, again, the better-dressed speak kindly to the Clerks;
point out the misery of these poor women; also their ailments,
some even of an interesting sort. Poor M. de Gouvion is
shiftless in this extremity;--a man shiftless, perturbed: who
will one day commit suicide. How happy for him that Usher
Maillard the shifty was there, at the moment, though making
representations! Fly back, thou shifty Maillard: seek the
Bastille Company; and O return fast with it; above all, with
thy own shifty head! For, behold, the Judiths can find no
Mayor or Municipal; scarcely, in the topmost belfry, can they
find poor Abbé Lefèvre the Powder-distributor. Him, for want
of a better, they suspend there: in the pale morning light;
over the top of all Paris, which swims in one's failing
eyes:--a horrible end? Nay the rope broke, as French ropes
often did; or else an Amazon cut it. Abbe Lefèvre falls, some
twenty feet, rattling among the leads; and lives long years
after, though always with 'a tremblement in the limbs.' And
now doors fly under hatchets; the Judiths have broken the
Armory; have seized guns and cannons, three money-bags,
paper-heaps; torches flare: in few minutes, our brave
Hôtel-de-Ville, which dates from the Fourth Henry, will, with
all that it holds, be in flames! In flames, truly,--were it
not that Usher Maillard, swift of foot, shifty of head, has
returned! Maillard, of his own motion,--for Gouvion or the
rest would not even sanction him,--snatches a drum: descends
the Porch-stairs, ran-tan, beating sharp, with loud rolls, his
Rogues'-march: To Versailles! Allons; à Versailles! As men
beat on kettle or warming-pan, when angry she-bees, or say,
flying desperate wasps, are to be hived; and the desperate
insects hear it, and cluster round it,--simply as round a
guidance, where there was none: so now these Menads round
shifty Maillard, Riding-Usher of the Châtelet. The axe pauses
uplifted; Abbé Lefèvre is left half-hanged: from the belfry
downwards all vomits itself. What rub-a-dub is that? Stanislas
Maillard, Bastille hero, will lead us to Versailles? Joy to
thee, Maillard; blessed art thou above Riding-Ushers! Away,
then, away! The seized cannon are yoked with seized
cart-horses: brown-locked Demoiselle Théroigne, with pike and
helmet, sits there as gunneress. ... Maillard (for his drum
still rolls) is, by heaven-rending acclamation, admitted
General. Maillard hastens the languid march. ... And now
Maillard has his Menads in the Champs Elysées (Fields
Tartarean rather); and the Hôtel-de-Ville has suffered
comparatively nothing. ... Great Maillard! A small nucleus of
Order is round his drum; but his outskirts fluctuate like the
mad Ocean: for Rascality male and female is flowing in on him,
from the four winds: guidance there is none but in his single
head and two drum-sticks. ... On the Elysian Fields there is
pause and fluctuation; but, for Maillard, no return. He
persuades his Menads, clamorous for arms and the Arsenal, that
no arms are in the Arsenal; that an unarmed attitude, and
petition to a National Assembly, will be the best: he hastily
nominates or sanctions generalesses, captains of tens and
fifties;--and so, in loosest-flowing order, to the rhythm of
some 'eight drums' (having laid aside his own), with the
Bastille Volunteers bringing up his rear, once more takes the
road. Chaillot, which will promptly yield baked loaves, is not
plundered; nor are the Sèvres Potteries broken. ... The press of
women still continues, for it is the cause of all Eve's
Daughters, mothers that are, or that ought to be. No
carriage-lady, were it with never such hysterics, but must
dismount, in the mud roads, in her silk shoes, and walk. In
this manner, amid wild October weather, they, a wild unwinged
stork-flight, through the astonished country wend their way."
T. Carlyle,
The French Revolution,
volume 1, book 7, chapters 4-5.
{1267}
FRANCE: A. D. 1789 (October).
The mob of men at Versailles, with Lafayette
and the National Guard.
The king and royal family brought to Paris.
Before the memorable 5th day of October closed, the movement
of the women upon Versailles was followed by an outpouring, in
the same direction, of the masculine mob of Paris, headed by
the National Guard. "The commander, Lafayette, opposed their
departure a long time, but in vain; neither his efforts nor
his popularity could overcome the obstinacy of the people. For
seven hours he harangued and retained them. At length,
impatient at this delay, rejecting his advice, they prepared
to set forward without him; when, feeling that it was now his
duty to conduct as it had previously been to restrain them, he
obtained his authorisation from the corporation, and gave the
word for departure about seven in the evening. "Meantime the
army of the amazons had arrived at Versailles, and excited the
terrors of the court. "The troops of Versailles flew to arms
and surrounded the château, but the intentions of the women
were not hostile. Maillard, their leader, had recommended them
to appear as suppliants, and in that attitude they presented
their complaints successively to the assembly and to the king.
Accordingly, the first hours of this turbulent evening were
sufficiently calm. Yet it was impossible but that causes of
hostility should arise between an excited mob and the
household troops, the objects of so much irritation. The
latter were stationed in the court of the château opposite the
national guard and the Flanders regiment. The space between
was filled by women and volunteers of the Bastille. In the
midst of the confusion, necessarily arising from such a
juxtaposition, a scuffle arose; this was the signal for
disorder and conflict. An officer of the guards struck a
Parisian soldier with his sabre, and was in turn shot in the
arm. The national guards sided against the household troops;
the conflict became warm, and would have been sanguinary, but
for the darkness, the bad weather, and the orders given to the
household troops, first to cease firing and then to retire.
... During this tumult, the court was in consternation; the
flight of the king was suggested, and carriages prepared; a
piquet of the national guard saw them at the gate of the
orangery, and having made them go back, closed the gate:
moreover, the king, either ignorant of the designs of the
court, or conceiving them impracticable, refused to escape.
Fears were mingled with his pacific intentions, when he
hesitated to repel the aggression or to take flight.
Conquered, he apprehended the fate of Charles I. of England;
absent, he feared that the duke of Orleans would obtain the
lieutenancy of the kingdom. But, in the meantime, the rain,
fatigue, and the inaction of the household troops, lessened
the fury of the multitude, and Lafayette arrived at the head
of the Parisian army. His presence restored security to the
court, and the replies of the king to the deputation from
Paris satisfied the multitude and the army. In a short time,
Lafayette's activity, the good sense and discipline of the
Parisian guard, restored order everywhere. Tranquillity
returned. The crowd of women and volunteers, overcome by
fatigue, gradually dispersed, and some of the national guard
were entrusted with the defence of the château, while others
were lodged with their companions in arms at Versailles. The
royal family, re-assured after the anxiety and fear of this
painful night, retired to rest about two o'clock in the
morning. Towards five, Lafayette, having visited the outposts
which had been confided to his care, and finding the watch
well kept, the town calm, and the crowds dispersed or
sleeping, also took a few moments repose. About six, however,
some men of the lower class, more enthusiastic than the rest,
and awake sooner than they, prowled round the château. Finding
a gate open, they informed their companions, and entered.
Unfortunately, the interior posts had been entrusted to the
household guards, and refused to the Parisian army. This fatal
refusal caused all the misfortunes of the night. The interior
guard had not even been increased; the gates scarcely visited,
and the watch kept as negligently as on ordinary occasions. These
men, excited by all the passions that had brought them to
Versailles, perceiving one of the household troops at a
window, began to insult him. He fired, and wounded one of
them. They then rushed on the household troops, who defended
the château breast to breast, and sacrificed themselves
heroically. One of them had time to warn the queen, whom the
assailants particularly threatened; and, half dressed, she ran
for refuge to the king. The tumult and danger were extreme in
the château. Lafayette, apprised of the invasion of the royal
residence, mounted his horse, and rode hastily to the scene of
danger. On the square he met some of the household troops
surrounded by an infuriated mob, who were on the point of
killing them. He threw himself among them, called some French
guards who were near, and, having rescued the household troops
and dispersed their assailants, he hurried to the château. He
found it already secured by the grenadiers of the French
guard, who, at the first noise of the tumult, had hastened and
protected the household troops from the fury of the Parisians.
But the scene was not over; the crowd assembled again in the
marble court under the king's balcony, loudly called for him,
and he appeared. They required his departure for Paris; he
promised to repair thither with his family, and this promise
was received with general applause. The queen was resolved, to
accompany him; but the prejudice against her was so strong
that the journey was not without danger; it was necessary to
reconcile her with the multitude. Lafayette proposed to her to
accompany him to the balcony; after some hesitation, she
consented. They appeared on it together, and to communicate by
a sign with the tumultuous crowd, to conquer its animosity, and
awaken its enthusiasm, Lafayette respectfully kissed the
queen's hand; the crowd responded with acclamations. It now
remained to make peace between them and the household troops.
Lafayette advanced with one of these, placed his own
tricoloured cockade on his hat, and embraced him before the
people, who shouted 'Vivent les gardes-du-corps!' Thus
terminated this scene; the royal family set out for Paris,
escorted by the army and its guards mixed with it."
F. A. Mignet,
History of the French Revolution,
chapter 2.
ALSO IN:
B. Tuckerman,
Life of Lafayette,
volume 1, chapter 11.
{1268}
FRANCE: A. D. 1789-1791.
The new constitution.
Appropriation and sale of Church property.
Issue of Assignats.
Abolition of titles of honor.
Civil constitution of the clergy.
The Feast of the Federation.
The Émigrés on the border and their conduct.
"The king was henceforth at the mercy of the mob. Deprived of
his guards, and at a distance from his army, he was in the
centre of the revolution; and surrounded by an excited and
hungry populace. He was followed to Paris by the Assembly;
and, for the present, was protected from further outrages by
Lafayette and the national guards. Mirabeau, who was now in
secret communication with the court, warned the king of his
danger, in the midst of the revolutionary capital. 'The mob of
Paris,' he said, 'will scourge the corpses of the king and
queen.' He saw no hope of safety for them, or for the State,
but in their withdrawal from this pressing danger, to
Fontainebleau or Rouen, and in a strong government, supported
by the Assembly, pursuing liberal measures, and quelling
anarchy. His counsels were frustrated by events; and the
revolution had advanced too far to be controlled by this
secret and suspected adviser of the king. Meanwhile, the
Assembly was busy with further schemes of revolution and
desperate finance. France was divided into departments: the
property of the Church was appropriated to meet the urgent
necessities of the State; the disastrous assignats were
issued: the subjection of the clergy to the civil power was
decreed: the Parliaments were superseded, and the judicature
of the country was reconstituted, upon a popular basis: titles
of honour, orders of knighthood, armorial bearings--even
liveries--were abolished: the army was reorganised, and the
privileges of birth were made to yield to service and
seniority. All Frenchmen were henceforth equal, as 'citoyens':
and their new privileges were wildly celebrated by the
planting of trees of liberty. The monarchy was still
recognised, but it stood alone, in the midst of revolution."
Sir T. E. May,
Democracy in Europe,
chapter 13 (volume 2).
"The monarchy was continued and liberally endowed; but it was
shorn of most of its ancient prerogatives, and reduced to a
very feeble Executive; and while it obtained a perilous veto
on the resolutions and acts of the Legislature, it was
separated from that power, and placed in opposition to it, by
the exclusion of the Ministers of the Crown from seats and
votes in the National Assembly. The Legislature was composed
of a Legislative Assembly, formed of a single Chamber alone,
in theory supreme, and almost absolute; but, as we have seen,
it was liable to come in conflict with the Crown, and it had
less authority than might be supposed, for it was elected by a
vote not truly popular, and subordinate powers were allowed to
possess a very large part of the rights of Sovereignty which
it ought to have divided with the King. This last portion of
the scheme was very striking, and was the one, too, that most
caused alarm among distant political observers. Too great
centralization having been one of the chief complaints against
the ancient Monarchy, this evil was met with a radical reform.
... The towns received extraordinary powers; their
municipalities had complete control over the National Guards
to be elected in them, and possessed many other functions of
Government; and Paris, by these means, became almost a
separate Commonwealth, independent of the State, and directing
a vast military force. The same system was applied to the
country; every Department was formed into petty divisions,
each with its National Guards, and a considerable share of
what is usually the power of the government. ... Burke's
saying was strictly correct, 'that France was split into
thousands of Republics, with Paris predominating and queen of
all.' With respect to other institutions of the State, the
appointment of nearly all civil functionaries, judicial and
otherwise, was taken from the Crown, and abandoned to a like
popular election; and the same principle was also applied to
the great and venerable institution of the Church, already
deprived of its vast estates, though the election of bishops
and priests by their flocks interfered directly with Roman
Catholic discipline, and probably, too, with religious dogma.
... Notwithstanding the opposition of Necker, who, though
hardly a statesman, understood finance, it was resolved to
sell the lands of the Church to procure funds for the
necessities of the State; and the deficit, which was
increasing rapidly, was met by an inconvertible currency of
paper, secured on the lands to be sold. This expedient ... was
carried out with injudicious recklessness. The Assignats, as
the new notes were called, seemed a mine of inexhaustible
wealth, and they were issued in quantities which, from the
first moment, disturbed the relations of life and commerce,
though they created a show of brisk trade for a time. In
matters of taxation the Assembly, too, exceeded the bounds of
reason and justice; exemptions previously enjoyed by the rich
were now indirectly extended to the poor; wealthy owners of
land were too heavily burdened, while the populace of the
towns went scot free. ... Very large sums, also, belonging to
the State, were advanced to the Commune of Paris, now rising
into formidable power. ... The funds so obtained were lavishly
squandered in giving relief to the poor of the capital in the
most improvident ways--in buying bread dear and reselling it
cheap, and in finding fanciful employment for artizans out of
work. The result, of course, was to attract to Paris many
thousands of the lowest class of rabble, and to add them to
the scum of the city. ... On the first anniversary [July 14,
1790] of the fall of the Bastille, and before the Constitution
had been finished ... a great national holiday [called the Feast
of the Federation] was kept; and, amidst multitudes of
applauding spectators, deputations from every Department in
France, headed by the authorities of the thronging capital,
defiled in procession to the broad space known as the Field of
Mars, along the banks of the Seine. An immense amphitheatre
had been constructed [converting the plain into a valley, by
the labor of many thousands, in a single week], and decorated
with extraordinary pomp; and here, in the presence of a
splendid Court, of the National Assembly, and of the
municipalities of the realm, and in the sight of a great
assemblage surging to and fro with throbbing excitement, the
King took an oath that he would faithfully respect the order
of things that was being established, while incense streamed
from high-raised altars, and the ranks of 70,000 National
Guards burst into loud cheers and triumphant music; and even
the Queen, sharing in the passion of the hour, and radiant
with beauty, lifted up in her arms the young child who was to
be the future chief of a disenthralled and regenerate people.
...
{1269}
The following week was gay with those brilliant displays which
Paris knows how to arrange so well; flowery arches covered the
site of the Bastille, fountains ran wine, and the night blazed
with fire; and the far-extending influence of France was
attested by enthusiastic deputations of 'friends of liberty'
from many parts of Europe, hailing the dawn of an era of
freedom and peace. The work, however, of the National Assembly
developed some of its effects ere long. The abolition of
titles of honor filled up the measure of the anger of the
Nobles; the confiscation of the property of the Church, above
all, the law as to the election of priests, known as the Civil
Constitution of the Clergy, shocked all religious or
superstitious minds. ... The emigration of the Nobles, which
had become very general from the 5th and 6th of October, went
on in daily augmenting numbers; and, in a short time, the
frontiers were edged with bands of exiles breathing vengeance
and hatred. In many districts the priests denounced as
sacrilege, what had been done to the Church, divided the
peasantry, and preached a crusade against what they called the
atheist towns; and angry mutinies broke out in the Army, which
left behind savage and relentless feelings. The relations
between the King and the Assembly, too, became strained, if
not hostile, at every turn of affairs, to the detriment of
anything like good government; and while Louis sunk into a
mere puppet, the Assembly, controlled in a great measure by
demagogues and the pampered mobs of Paris, felt authority
gradually slipping from it." To all the many destructive and
revolutionary influences at work was now added "the pitiful
conduct of those best known by the still dishonorable name of
'Émigrés.' In a few months the great majority of the
aristocracy of France had fled the kingdom, abandoned the
throne around which they had stood, breathing maledictions
against a contemptuous Nation, as arrogant as ever in the
impotence of want, and thinking only of a counter-revolution
that would cover the natal soil with blood. ... Their utter
want of patriotism and of sound feeling made thousands believe
that the state of society which had bred such creatures ought
to be swept away."
W. O'C. Morris,
The French Revolution and First Empire,
chapter 3.
ALSO IN:
H. Van Sybel,
History of the French Revolution,
book 1, chapter 5, and book 2, chapters 3-5.
M'me de Stael,
Considerations on the French Revolution,
part 2, chapters 12-19 (volume l).
E. Burke,
Reflections on the Revolution in France.
A. F. Bertrand de Moleville,
Annals of the French Revolution,
part 1, chapters 22-35 (volumes 2-3).
Duchess de Tourzell,
Memoirs,
volume 1, chapters 3-11.
W. H. Jervis,
The Gallican Church and the Revolution.,
chapters 1-4.
FRANCE: A. D. 1790.
The rise of the Clubs.
Jacobins, Cordeliers, Feuillants, Club Monarchique, and Club
of '89.
"Every party sought to gain the people; it was courted as
sovereign. After attempting to influence it by religion,
another means was employed, that of the clubs. At that period,
clubs were private assemblies, in which the measures of
government, the business of the state, and the decrees of the
assembly, were discussed; their deliberations had no
authority, but they exercised a certain influence. The first
club owed its origin to the Breton deputies, who already met
together at Versailles to consider the course of proceeding
they should take. When the national representatives were
transferred from Versailles to Paris, the Breton deputies and
those of the assembly who were of their views held their
sittings in the old convent of the Jacobins, which
subsequently gave its name to their meetings. It did not at
first cease to be a preparatory assembly, but as all things
increase in time, the Jacobin Club did not confine itself to
influencing the assembly; it sought also to influence the
municipality and the people, and received as associates
members of the municipality and common citizens. Its
organization became more regular, its action more powerful;
its sittings were regularly reported in the papers; it created
branch clubs in the provinces, and raised by the side of legal
power another power which first counselled and then conducted
it. The Jacobin Club, as it lost its primitive character and
became a popular assembly, had been forsaken by part of its
founders. The latter established another society on the plan
of the old one, under the name of the Club of '89. Siéyes,
Chapelier, Lafayette, La Rochefoucauld, directed it, as Lameth
and Barnave directed that of the Jacobins. Mirabeau belonged
to both, and by both was equally courted. These clubs, of
which the one prevailed in the assembly, and the other amongst
the people, were attached to the new order of things, though
in different degrees. The aristocracy sought to attack the
revolution with its own arms; it opened royalist clubs to
oppose the popular clubs. That first established, under the
name of the Club des Impartiaux, could not last because it
addressed itself to no class opinion. Reappearing under the
name of the Club Monarchique, it included among its members
all those whose views it represented. It sought to render
itself popular with the lower classes, and distributed bread;
but, far from accepting its overtures, the people considered
such establishments as a counter-revolutionary movement. It
disturbed their sittings, and obliged them several times to
change their place of meeting. At length, the municipal
authority found itself obliged, in January, 1791, to close
this club, which had been the cause of several riots."
F. A. Mignet,
History of the French Revolution,
chapter 3.
"At the end of 1790 the number of Jacobin Clubs was 200, many
of which--like the one in Marseilles--contained more than a
thousand members. Their organization extended through the
whole kingdom, and every impulse given at the centre in Paris
was felt at the extremities. ... It was far indeed from
embracing the majority of adult Frenchmen, but even at that
time it had undoubtedly become--by means of its strict
unity--the greatest power in the kingdom."
H. von Sybel,
History of the French Revolution,
book 1, chapter 5 (volume 1).
"This Jacobin Club soon divided itself into three other clubs:
first, that party which looked upon the Jacobins as lukewarm
patriots left it, and constituted themselves into the Club of
the Cordeliers, where Danton's voice of thunder made the halls
ring; and Camille Desmoulins' light, glancing wit played with
momentous subjects. The other party, which looked upon the
Jacobins as too fierce, constituted itself into the 'Club of
1789; friends of the monarchic constitution;' and afterwards
named Feuillant's Club, because it met in the Feuillant
Convent. Lafayette was their chief; supported by the
'respectable' patriots. These clubs generated many others, and
the provinces imitated them."
G. H. Lewes,
Life of Robespierre,
chapter 10.
{1270}
"The Cordeliers were a Parisian club; the Jacobins an immense
association extending throughout France. But Paris would stir
and rise at the fury of the Cordeliers; and Paris being once
in motion, the political revolutionists were absolutely
obliged to follow. Individuality was very powerful among the
Cordeliers. Their journalists, Marat, Desmoulins, Fréron,
Robert, Hébert and Fabre d'Églantine, wrote each for himself.
Danton, the omnipotent orator, would never write; but, by way
of compensation, Marat and Desmoulins, who stammered or
lisped, used principally to write, and seldom spoke. ... The
Cordeliers formed a sort of tribe, all living in the
neighbourhood of the club."
J. Michelet,
Historical View of the French Revolution,
book 4, chapters 7 and 5.
ALSO IN:
T. Carlyle,
The French Revolution,
volume 2, book 1, chapter 5.
H. A. Taine,
The French Revolution,
book 4 (volume 2).
FRANCE: A. D. 1790-1791.
Revolution at Avignon.
Reunion of the old Papal province with France decreed.
"The old residence of the Popes [Avignon] remained until the
year 1789 under the papal government, which, from its
distance, exercised its authority with great mildness, and
left the towns and villages of the country in the enjoyment of
a great degree of independence. The general condition of the
population was, however, much the same as in the neighbouring
districts of France--agitation in the towns and misery in the
country. It is not surprising, therefore, that the commotion
of August 4th should extend itself among the subjects of the
Holy see. Here, too, castles were burned, black mail levied on
the monasteries, tithes and feudal rights abolished. The city
of Avignon soon became the centre of a political agitation,
whose first object was to throw off the papal yoke, and then
to unite the country with France. ... In June, 1790, the
people of Avignon tore down the papal arms, and the Town
Council sent a message to Paris, that Avignon wished to be
united to France." Some French regiments were sent to the city
to maintain order; but "the greater part of them deserted, and
marched out with the Democrats of the town to take and sack
the little town of Cavaillon, which remained faithful to the
Pope. From this time forward civil war raged without
intermission. ... The Constituent Assembly, on the 14th of
September, 1791, decreed the reunion of the country with
France. Before the new government could assert its authority,
fresh and more dreadful atrocities had taken place," ending
with the fiendish massacre of 110 prisoners, held by a band of
ruffians who had taken possession of the papal castle.
H. von Sybel,
History of the French Revolution,
book 3, chapter 2 (volume 1).
FRANCE: A. D. 1790-1791.
The oath of the clergy.
First movements toward the European coalition
against French democracy.
Death of Mirabeau.
The King's flight and arrest at Varennes.
Rise of a Republican Party.
"By a decree of November 27th, 1790, the Assembly required the
clergy to take an oath of fidelity to the nation, the law and
the king, and to maintain the constitution. This oath they
were to take within a week, on pain of deprivation. The King,
before assenting to this measure, wished to procure the
consent of the Pope, but was persuaded not to wait for it, and
gave his sanction, December 3rd. ... Of 300 prelates and
priests, who had seats in the Assembly, those who sat on the
right unanimously refused to take the oath, while those who
sat on the left anticipated the day appointed for that
purpose. Out of 138 archbishops and bishops, only four
consented to swear, Talleyrand, Loménie de Brienne (now
Archbishop of Sens), the Bishop of Orleans, and the Bishop of
Viviers. The oath was also refused by the great majority of
the curés and vicars, amounting, it is said, to 50,000. Hence
arose the distinction of 'prêtres sermentés' and
'insermentés,' or sworn and non-juring priests. The brief of
Pius VI., forbidding the oath, was burnt at the Palais Royal,
as well as a mannikin representing the Pope himself in his
pontificals. Many of the deprived ecclesiastics refused to
vacate their functions, declared their successors intruders
and the sacraments they administered null, and excommunicated
all who recognised and obeyed them. Louis XVI., whose
religious feelings were very strong, was perhaps more hurt by
these attacks upon the Church than even by those directed
against his own prerogative. The death of Mirabeau, April 2nd
1791, was a great loss to the King, though it may well be
doubted whether his exertions could have saved the monarchy.
He fell a victim to his profligate habits, assisted probably
by the violent exertions he had recently made in the Assembly.
... He was honoured with a sumptuous funeral at the public
expense, to which, says a contemporary historian, nothing but
grief was wanting. In fact, to most of the members of the
Assembly, eclipsed by his splendid talents and overawed by his
reckless audacity, his death was a relief. ... After
Mirabeau's death, Duport, Barnave, and Lameth reigned supreme
in the Assembly, and Robespierre became more prominent. The
King had now begun to fix his hopes on foreign intervention.
The injuries inflicted by the decrees of the Assembly on
August 4th 1789, on several princes of the Empire, through
their possessions in Alsace, Franche Comté, and Lorraine,
might afford a pretext for a rupture between the German
Confederation and France. ... The German prelates, injured by
the Civil Constitution of the clergy, were among the first to
complain. By this act the Elector of Mentz was deprived of his
metropolitan rights over the bishoprics of Strasburg and
Spires; the Elector of Trèves of those over Metz, Toul,
Verdun, Nanci and St. Diez. The Bishops of Strasburg and Bale
lost their diocesan rights in Alsace. Some of these princes
and nobles had called upon the Emperor and the German body in
January 1790, for protection against the arbitrary acts of the
National Assembly. This appeal had been favourably
entertained, both by the Emperor Joseph II. and by the King of
Prussia; and though the Assembly offered suitable indemnities,
they were haughtily refused. ... The Spanish and Italian
Bourbons were naturally inclined to support their relative,
Louis XVI. ... The King of Sardinia, connected by
intermarriages with the French Bourbons, had also family
interests to maintain. Catherine II. of Russia had witnessed,
with humiliation and alarm, the fruits of the philosophy which
she had patronised, and was opposed to the new order of things
in France. ...
{1271}
All the materials existed for an extensive coalition against
French democracy. In this posture of affairs the Count
d'Artois, accompanied by Calonne, who served him as a sort of
minister, and by the Count de Durfort, who had been despatched
from the French Court, had a conference with the Emperor, now
Leopold II., at Mantua, in May 1791, in which it was agreed
that, towards the following July, Austria should march 35,000
men towards the frontiers of Flanders; the German Circles
15,000 towards Alsace; the Swiss 15,000 towards the Lyonnais;
the King of Sardinia 15,000 towards Dauphiné; while Spain was
to hold 20,000 in readiness in Catalonia. This agreement, for
there was not, as some writers have supposed, any formal
treaty, was drawn up by Calonne, and amended with the
Emperor's own hand. But the large force to be thus assembled
was intended only as a threatening demonstration, and
hostilities were not to be actually commenced without the
sanction of a congress. ... The King's situation had now
become intolerably irksome. He was, to all intents and
purposes, a prisoner at Paris. A trip, which he wished to make
to St. Cloud during the Easter of 1791, was denounced at the
Jacobin Club as a pretext for flight; and when he attempted to
leave the Tuileries, April 18th, the tocsin was rung, his
carriage was surrounded by the mob, and he was compelled to
return to the palace. ... A few days after ... the leaders of
the Revolution, who appear to have suspected his negociations
abroad, exacted that he should address a circular to his
ambassadors at foreign courts, in which he entirely approved
the Revolution, assumed the title of 'Restorer of French
liberty,' and utterly repudiated the notion that he was not
free and master of his actions." But the King immediately
nullified the circular by despatching secret agents with
letters "in which he notified that any sanction he might give
to the decrees of the Assembly was to be reputed null; that
his pretended approval of the constitution was to be
interpreted in an opposite sense, and that the more strongly
he should seem to adhere to it, the more he should desire to
be liberated from the captivity in which he was held. Louis
soon after resolved on his unfortunate flight to the army of
the Marquis de Bouillé at Montmédy. ... Having, after some
hair-breadth escapes, succeeded in quitting Paris in a
travelling berlin, June 20th, they [the King, Queen, and
family] reached St. Menehould in safety. But here the King was
recognised by Drouet, the son of the postmaster, who, mounting
his horse, pursued the royal fugitives to Varennes, raised an
alarm, and caused them to be captured when they already
thought themselves out of danger. In consequence of their
being rather later than was expected, the military
preparations that had been made for their protection entirely
failed. The news of the King's flight filled Paris with
consternation. The Assembly assumed all the executive power of
the Government, and when the news of the King's arrest
arrived, they despatched Barnave, Latour, Maubourg and Pétion
to conduct him and his family back to Paris. ... Notices had
been posted up in Paris, that those who applauded the King
should be horsewhipped, and that those who insulted him should
be hanged; hence he was received on entering the capital with
a dead silence. The streets, however, were traversed without
accident to the Tuileries, but as the royal party were
alighting, a rush was made upon them by some ruffians, and
they were with difficulty saved from injury. The King's
brother, the count of Provence, who had fled at the same time
by a different route, escaped safely to Brussels. This time
the King's intention to fly could not be denied; he had,
indeed, himself proclaimed it, by sending to the Assembly a
manifest, in which he explained his reasons for it, declared
that he did not intend to quit the kingdom, expressed his
desire to restore liberty and establish a constitution, but
annulled all that he had done during the last two years. ...
The King, after his return, was provisionally suspended from
his functions by a decree of the Assembly, June 25th. Guards
were placed over him and the Queen; the gardens of the
Tuileries assumed the appearance of a camp; sentinels were
stationed on the roof of the Palace, and even in the Queen's
bedchamber. ... From the period of the King's flight to
Varennes must be dated the first decided appearance of a
republican party in France. During his absence the Assembly
had been virtually sovereign, and hence men took occasion to
say, 'You see the public peace has been maintained, affairs
have gone on, in the usual way in the King's absence.' The
chief advocates of a republic were Brissot, Condorcet, and the
recently-established club of the Cordeliers. ... The
arch-democrat, Thomas Payne, who was now at Paris, also
endeavoured to excite the populace against the King. The
Jacobin Club had not yet gone this length; they were for
bringing Louis XVI. to trial and deposing him, but for
maintaining the monarchy."
T. H. Dyer,
History of Modern Europe,
book 7, chapters 2-3 (volume 4).
ALSO IN:
J. Michelet,
Historical View of the French Revolution,
book 4, chapters 8-14.
M'me Campan,
Memoirs of Marie Antoinette,
volume 2, chapters 5-7.
Marquis de Bouillé,
Memoirs,
chapters 8-11.
Duchess de Tourzel,
Memoirs,
volume 1, chapter 12.
A. B. Cochrane,
Francis I., and other Historical Studies,
volume 2 (The Flight of Varennes).
FRANCE: A. D. 1791 (July-September).