History of Europe

HISTORY OF EUROPE.

CHAPTER I.

CAUSES AND COMMENCEMENT OF THE REVOLUTION.

FEW periods of the world's history can be compared, in interest and importance, to that which embraces the origin and progress of the French Revolution; for, in no previous age were events of such magnitude crowded together, nor were questions of such moment ever before arbitrated between contending nations. Hereafter, the era of Napoleon will doubtless be ranked with the eras of Pericles, Hannibal and the Crusades.

The extraordinary character of this Revolution must not be attributed to any peculiarities in the disposition of the. French people, or to any faults peculiar to their government, but rather to the weight of despotism which preceded, and the prodigious changes which were destined to follow it. It was distinguished by violence and stained with blood, because it originated chiefly with the laboring classes, and partook of the savage features of a servile revolt; it subverted the institutions of the country, because it condensed within a few years the changes which should have taken place in as many centuries; it speedily fell under the direction of the most depraved inhabitants, because its guidance was early abandoned by the higher to the lower orders; and it led to a general spoliation of property, because its basis was an insurrection of the poor against the rich. France would have done less at the Revolution, if she had done more before it; she would not so mercilessly have wielded the sword to govern, if she had not so long been governed by the sword; nor would she have sunk for years under the guillotine of the populace, had she not first groaned for centuries under the fetters of the nobility.

For a hundred and fifty years before the Revolution, France had enjoyed the blessings of domestic tranquillity, and, during this interval of peace, the relative situation and feelings of the different ranks in society underwent a total change. Wealth was silently accumulated by the lower orders, while power imperceptibly glided from the higher, in consequence of the dissipation of their revenues on objects of luxury. When civil dissensions again broke out, this difference appeared in the most striking manner. It was no longer the territorial noblesse, headed by their respective lords, who took the field; or the burghers of towns, who maintained insulated contests for the defence of their walls: but the

National Guard who everywhere flew to arms, animated by one common feeling and strong in the consciousness of mutual support. They did not wait for their landlords to lead, or their magistrates to direct; but, acting boldly for themselves, asserted the cause of democratic freedom against the powers they had hitherto been accustomed to obey.

In the philosophical speculations of the eighteenth century, hazarded by Voltaire, Rousseau, Raynal and the Encyclopædists, the most unreserved discussion on political subjects took place; and, by a singular blindness, the constituted authorities made no attempt to check these inquiries. Feeling themselves strong in the support of the nobility, the protection of the army, and the long established tranquillity of the realm, they considered their power beyond the reach of assault, and anticipated no danger from theories on the social contract or from essays on the manners and spirit of nations. A direct attack on the, monarchy would have consigned the offender to the Bastile; but general disquisitions excited no alarm, either among the nobility or in the government. The speculations of these eloquent philosophers, however, spread widely among the rising generation. Captivated by the novelty of the ideas which were developed, and seduced by the examples of antiquity which were held up to imitation, the youth imbibed not only free, but republican principles. Madame Roland, the daughter of an engraver, and living in an humble station, wept when she was yet but nine years old because she was not born a Roman citizen; and she carried Plutarch's Lives, instead of her breviary, in her hand when she attended mass in the cathedral.

Within the bosom of the Church too, owing to an invidious exclusion of all persons of plebeian birth from the dignities and emoluments of the ecclesiastical establishment, the seeds of deep-rooted discontent were to be found. While the bishops and elevated clergy were rolling in wealth or basking in the sunshine of royal favor, the humbler clergy, on whom devolved the whole practical duties of Christianity, toiled in virtuous obscurity among the peasants who composed their flocks. The simple piety and unostentatious usefulness of these rural priests endcared them to their parishioners, and formed a striking contrast to the luxurious habits and dissipated lives of the high-born dignitaries of the Church, whose enormous wealth excited the envy of their indigent brethren and of the lower classes of the people, while the general idleness of their lives rendered more offensive the magnitude of their fortunes. Hence, the universal indignation. in 1789, at the vices and corruption of the Church, and the readiness with which, at the very commencement of the Revolution, the property of the clergy was confiscated to relieve the embarrassed finances of the country.

The distinction between the nobility and the base born was carried to a length in France of which, in a free country, it is difficult to form an adequate conception. Every person was either noble or roturier; no middling class, no gradation of rank was known. On the one side, were one hundred and fifty thousand privileged individuals; on the other, the whole body of the French people. All situations of importance in the Church, the army, the court, the bench, or the ranks of diplomacy, were held by the former of these classes: a state of things of itself sufficient to produce a revolution in a flourishing and populous country.

The system of taxation in France was another serious grievance. The nobles and clergy were exempt from imposts on the produce of the land, and this burden therefore fell exclusively and with insupportable

weight on the laboring people. At the same time, the peasantry were, with few exceptions, in an indigent condition. Their houses were comfortless, their clothing was little better than rags, and their food was of the coarsest and most humble kind. Then, too, in addition to the misfortune of an impoverished peasantry, France was cursed with a body of non-resident landholders, who drew their revenues from the soil, but expended them in the metropolis: thus depriving the country-people of that direct trade in their own productions so essential to their prosperity. Being thus deserted by their natural guardians, and receiving no benefit or encouragement from them, the laboring classes acquired a discontented spirit, and were soon ready to join those desperate leaders, who promised them liberty and pillage as a reward for burning the castles and murdering the families of the nobility.

Again, the local burdens and legal services, due from the tenantry to their lawful superiors, were to the last degree vexatious and oppressive. The peasantry of France were almost in a state of primitive ignorance; not one in fifty could read, and the people in each province were una ware of what was passing in the neighboring provinces. At a distance of only fifty miles from Paris, men were unacquainted with the occurrence of the most stirring events of the Revolution. No public meetings were held, and no periodical press was within reach to spread the flame of discontent; yet the spirit of resistance gradually became universal from Calais to Bayonne.

The royal prerogative, by a long series of successful usurpations, had reached a degree of despotism incompatible with rational freedom. The most important right of a citizen, that of deliberating on the passing of laws and the granting of supplies, had fallen into desuetude. For nearly two centuries the kings, on their own authority, had published ordinances possessing all the force of laws, which however could not be legally sanctioned but by the representatives of the people. The right of approving these ordinances was arbitrarily transferred to the Parliament and courts of justice, and even their deliberations were liable to be suspended by the personal intervention of the sovereign and infringed by despotic imprisonment.

Corruption, too, in its worst form had long tainted the manners of the court, as well as of the nobility, and poisoned the sources of influence. Since the reign of the Roman emperors, profligacy had never been conducted in so open and undisguised a manner as under Louis XV. and the regent Orleans.

Finally, hopeless embarrassment in the national finances was the immediate cause of the Revolution. It compelled the king (Louis XVI.) to summon the States-General as the only means of avoiding national bankruptcy. Previous ministers had tried temporary expedients, and every other effort-including the king's voluntary renouncement of his household luxuries-had been made to avert the disaster; but the extravagant expenses of the government, combined with the vast interest on its accumulating debt, rendered them all abortive.

The 5th of May, 1789, was the day fixed for the opening of the StatesGeneral; and, strictly speaking, that was the first day of the French Revolution.

The Assembly was opened at Versailles with extraordinary pomp Galleries, disposed in the form of an amphitheatre, were filled with a bril

liant concourse of spectators, while the deputies occupied the centre according to the order established at the last Convocation in 1614. The clergy sat on the right, the nobles on the left, the commons (or Third Estate) in front, of the throne. After the ministers and deputies had taken their places, the king appeared, followed by the queen, the princes, and a brilliant suite; and as he seated himself on the throne amid loud applause, the three orders of the deputies rose and covered themselves. In days past, the commons remained uncovered and spoke on their knees in the presence of the king: their present spontaneous movement was ominous of the subsequent conduct of that now aspiring body. The king delivered his speech and was followed by the minister of finance, M. Neckar; but although both were listened to with great attention, the deputies observed with regret that neither monarch nor minister proposed any tangible expedient for relieving the pecuniary embarrassment which had called them together.

On the day following, May 6th, 1789, the nobles and the clergy organized themselves in their respective chambers; but the commons, to whom on account of their numbers the large hall had been assigned, waited, or pretended to wait, for the other orders. The contest was now openly begun. The commons alleged that they could not verify their powers until they were joined by the other Estates; while the nobles and clergy had already verified their powers in their chambers apart, and were ready to begin the business of the session. For several weeks, the commons now continued to meet daily in the great hall, waiting vainly for the accession of the other orders: they attempted to accomplish nothing actively, but merely trusted to the negative force of inactivity to compel their opponents to submit to them. This state of things could not long continue. The refusal of the commons to organize themselves delayed the public business completely, while the desperate state of the finances and the rapidly increasing anarchy of the kingdom called loudly for immediate

measures.

During the discussion on this important subject, the clergy, who wished to bring about a re-union of the three orders without openly yielding to the commons, sent a deputation headed by the Archbishop of Aix, to propose that a committee of the commons should meet a few of the clergy and nobles in a private conference on the best means of assuaging the general suffering. The commons, who did not wish to yield anything, and yet knew not how to decline this proposition without compromising themselves, were at a loss what answer to return, when a young man, till then unknown to the assembly, rose and said, "Go, and tell your colleagues that if they are so impatient to assuage the sufferings of the poor, they must come to this hall and unite with their friends. Tell them no longer to retard our operations by affected delays: tell them it is vain to employ such stratagems as this to change our firm resolutions. Rather let them, as worthy imitators of their master, renounce a luxury which consumes the funds of indigence; dismiss the insolent lacqueys who attend them; sell their superb equipages, and convert these vile superfluities into aliment for the poor!" At this speech, which so clearly expressed the passions of the moment, a confused murmur of applause ran through the assembly, and every one asked who was the young deputy who had so happily given vent to the public feeling. His name afterwards made every man in France tremble: it was MAXIMILIAN ROBESPierre.

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History of Europe: From the Commemcement [sic] of the French Revolution in ...