THE

CAMBRIDGE MODERN HISTORY

PLANNED BY the late LORD ACTON LL.D.

REGIUS PROFESSOR OF MODERN HISTORY

EDITED BY

A. W. WARD Litt.D.

G. W. PROTHERO Litt.D. STANLEY LEATHES M.A.

VOLUME VIII

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

PREFACE.

THE main focus of activity for European forces shifts from age to age. Thus in preceding volumes, under the changing play of national collisions, and the stimulus of new ideas, we have seen its position move from Italy to the Rhineland and to Switzerland. Its limits are sometimes narrow, sometimes they embrace a wider field. But in no epoch is the centre of material and spiritual energy for Europe more definitely located, in none is the action proceeding from that centre more novel in its kind, more destructive of the old, more ambitious of the new, than in the period of the French Revolution. For this whole decade the main attention of the student of European history must centre in Paris.

The present Volume traces the intellectual genesis of the revolutionary movement among the audacious thinkers and the philanthropic listeners of the eighteenth century. It shows how the institutions and the administration of France were unfitted to resist a violent shock, while her vacillating rulers hesitated to use such resources as the constitution placed in their hands. Benevolent enthusiasm, peaceful agitation, irresolute control, are succeeded by anarchy and terrorism; society seems to be resolved into its elements, and the fortunes of the nation to depend on the caprice and idiosyncrasies of a few chance-selected men. The impulse spreads beyond the frontiers. Europe gathers her forces to resist the destructive flood. France reacts to hostile pressure; institu­tions are extemporised in the midst of foreign and civil war; the organic unity of the French nation reasserts itself; order succeeds to anarchy, fixed aims to vague aspirations; and wars of conquest follow wars of self-preservation. Separately is described the attempt of legislators to break loose from the bonds of custom, convention, and tradition, and to build up a new scheme of human relations from a purely rational basis. Finally, the effect of these destructive and reconstructive ideas is traced in action and reaction through the chief countries of Europe;

and the foundations of our modem political and social scheme become visible. The new phase of European history, which opens with the Consulate, is left to be treated in another volume.

But while this main drama absorbs our main attention, and dominates one-half of the European continent, a secondary plot unfolds itself in the east. The preoccupation of the central Powers leaves room for the ambition and intrigue of Russia; and the fate of Poland is decided in accordance with Catharine’s wishes. Meanwhile the jealousy of Austria and Prussia and their disputes over the Polish spoils leave to France a breathing-space; the revolutionary government has leisure to establish itself; and before Poland is finally dismembered the gravest crisis has passed. Here and there moreover we see indications of a new and imperious problem, the Eastern question, which will occupy the energies and attract the ambitions of statesmen and diplomatists for more than a century to come.

The regeneration of France, the extinction of Poland—these themes with their accessories claim all our space. From the European point of view, the domestic politics of England become of secondary interest, even to Englishmen. The European significance of British activity is in the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. British internal struggles and party fortunes influence the main plot only in so far as they hamper or assist the efforts of William Pitt and Nelson. But the due considera­tion of British politics is only deferred; the period before 1793 will find its place in Volume VI, the period after 1793 in Volume IX; while Volume VI, which will naturally include the story of Grattan’s Parliament, must also follow that movement to its close in the Act of Union.

The thanks of the Editors are due to all the contributors to this Volume for time and labour unsparingly devoted to the common task • and also to Mr C. It. L. Fletcher, of Magdalen College, Oxford, for advice and assistance freely given, and to Professor Maitland for his careful revision of the translation of the Chapter on “ French Law in the Age of the Revolution.”

A. W. W.

G. W. P.

S. L.

Cambridge,

April, 1904.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

PHILOSOPHY AND THE REVOLUTION.

By P. F. Willert,

CHAPTER II.

THE GOVERNMENT OF FRANCE.

By F. C. Montague, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Oriel College, Oxford, Professor of History in University College, London.

CHAPTER III.

FINANCE.

By Henry Higgs

CHAPTER IV.

LOUIS XVI.

By Professor F. C. Montague, M.A.

CHAPTER V.

THE ELECTIONS TO THE STATES GENERAL.

By Professor F. C. Montague, M.A.

CHAPTER VI.

THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY, AND THE SPREAD OF ANARCHY. By Professor F. C. Montague, M.A.

CHAPTER VII.

THE CONSTITUTION OF 1791.

By Professor F. C. Montague, M.A.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY.

By J. R. Moreton Macdonald, M.A., Magdalen College, Oxford.

CHAPTER IX.

THE NATIONAL CONVENTION TO THE FALL OF THE GIRONDE.

By J. R. Moreton Macdonald

CHAPTER X.

THE FOREIGN POLICY OF PITT TO THE OUTBREAK OF WAR WITH FRANCE.

By Oscar Browning

CHAPTER XI.

THE EUROPEAN POWERS AND THE EASTERN QUESTION.

By Richaed Lodge

CHAPTER XII.

THE TERROR.

By J. R. MOBeton Macdonald

CHAPTER XIII.

THE THERM1D0RIAN REACTION AND THE END OF THE CONVENTION.

By J. R Mobeton Macdonald, M.A.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE GENERAL WAR.

By R. P. Dunn-Pattison

CHAPTER XV.

THE NAVAL WAR.

By H. W. Wilson, B.A., Trinity College, Oxford.'

CHAPTER XVI.

THE DIRECTORY.

By G. K. Fortescue, Keeper of the Printed Books at the British Museum.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE EXTINCTION OF POLAND, 1788-97.

By Professor Richard Lodge, M.A.

CHAPTER XVIII.

BONAPARTE AND THE CONQUEST OF ITALY.

By J. Holland Rose, Litt.D., Christ’s College.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE EGYPTIAN EXPEDITION.

By J. Holland Rose

CHAPTER XX.

THE STRUGGLE FOR THE MEDITERRANEAN.

By H. W. Wilson, B.A.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE SECOND COALITION.

By T. Holland Rose, Litt.D.

CHAPTER XXII.

BRUMAIRE.

By H. A. L. Fisher, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of New College, Oxford.

CHAPTER XXIII.

REVOLUTIONARY FINANCE.

By Henry Higgs, M.A.

CHAPTER XXIV.

FRENCH LAW IN THE AGE OF THE REVOLUTION.

By Paul Viollet, Member of the Institute, Professor of the History of Civil and Canon Law in the Nicole des Chartes, Paris.

CHAPTER XXV.

EUROPE AND THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.

By G. P. Gooch, M.A., Trinity College.

CHAPTER I.

PHILOSOPHY AND THE REVOLUTION.

Philosophy, wrote Mallet du Pan in his Mercwre Britannique, may boast her reign over the country she has devastated. Her votaries, he said, hastened the degeneration and corruption of the French by weakening the bulwarks of morality, by sophisticating conscience, and by substituting the uncertain dictates of man’s fallible reason, the equivocations of passion and of selfishness, for rules of duly imposed by tradition, con­firmed by education, and secured by habit. They threw doubt on all truths, and shook the foundations of whatever had been established and consecrated by time, by experience, and by a wisdom saner than their own. Intellectual anarchy prepared the way for social anarchy. Rousseau, the favourite author of the middle classes, who was read and commented upon in the streets, misled virtue’s self. He taught the nation to receive the dogmas of popular sovereignty and of natural equality as axioms, and deduced from them their most extreme consequences. He was the prophet of the Revolution, and his works were its Gospel.

Mounier, on the other hand, an observer not less acute and one who had himself played so important a part in the opening scenes of the Revolution, considers that the “ philosophers ” contributed but little to the overthrow of the old political and social order. It is true that they had attacked abuses and advocated reforms, that by their hostility to religion and by their generally materialistic doctrine they might indirectly have undermined morality and encouraged a selfish luxury and corruption; but he maintains that their wilder rhapsodies were little read or not seriously taken. Such works as Rousseau’s Discourse on Inequality, or that of Mably, Doubts on the Natural Order of Societies, were, he assures us, looked upon as brilliant pieces of declamation, and had as little practical influence as More’s Utopia. Desire of civil and political liberty existed before the Encyclopedie was published (1751-72) or Montesquieu had written; and, if during the latter part of the century that desire became more vehement, this was far more due to an envious appreciation of English freedom and of American independence, than to the influence and teaching of the philosophers. They were not the cause

2

The principles of 1789 and 1793.

of ruined finances, of fiscal oppression, of the vacillation, the weakness, and the incompetence of the government. The Americans had adopted and proclaimed the same principles as the French revolutionists, yet none of the evil results attributed to those principles had followed. Nor were the crimes and follies which dishonoured the Revolution so much due to the false and mischievous doctrines of theorists as to the unscrupulous ambition of rival demagogues; nay, they were perpetrated in cynical contempt of those principles which these men had constantly in their mouths. If Rousseau had never written, the doctrine of popular sovereignty would have been asserted, as it had been by the French in the sixteenth and the English in the seventeenth century. Christianity had taught as emphatically as any philosopher that men were equal; nor was that hateful maxim, by which the worst crimes have been justified, that all means are legitimate which conduce to the safety of the State, of so recent invention. Before we can decide which of these statements comes nearest to the truth, and to appreciate the part played by the French writers and philosophers of the eighteenth century in preparing the way for the Revolution and in determining the objects aimed at by the reformers, it may be well to summarise roughly the principles which influenced the men of 1789 and 1793, guided their policy, and inspired their constructive efforts. In the thousands of pamphlets which poured from the press during the year which preceded the meeting of the States General, in the Declarations of Rights, in the preambles and resolutions voted by the Constituent and Legislative Assemblies and by the Convention, in the speeches of the liberal statesmen and demagogues, we find certain general principles accepted as axiomatic, and the assumption that all conclusions which can be logically deduced from these indisputable premises require no further justification. Let us enumerate the most fundamental of these axioms.

All men are by nature equal; all have the same natural rights to strive after happiness, to self-preservation, to the free control and disposal of their persons and property, to resist oppression, to hold and to express whatever opinions they please. The people is sovereign; it cannot alienate its sovereignty; and every government not established by the free consent of the community is a usurpation. The title-deeds of man’s rights, as Sieyes said, are not lost. They are preserved in his reason. Reason is infallible and omnipotent. It can discover truth and compel conviction. Rightly consulted, it will reveal to us that code of nature which should be recognised and enforced by the civil law. No civil enactment which violates natural law is valid. Nature meant man to be virtuous and happy. He is vicious and miserable, because he transgresses her laws and despises her teaching.

The essence of these doctrines is that man should reject every institution and creed which cannot approve itself to pure reason, the reason of the individual. It is true that if reason is to be thus trusted it

The conception of natural law.

3

must be unclouded by prejudice and superstition. These are at once the cause and the effect of the defective and mischievous social, political, and religious institutions, which have perverted man’s nature, inflamed his passions, and distorted his judgment. Therefore to overthrow prejudice and superstition should be' the first effort of those who would restore to man his natural rights.

Natural equality, nature and her law, which is prior and superior to all civil enactments, the Social Contract and the indefeasible sovereignty of the people—all these were conceptions familiar to jurists and' publicists and even to politicians before the eighteenth century. That which is characteristic of the French authors of that period is their faith in reason, and a conviction that, since all that is amiss is due to im­perfect institutions, all would speedily come right were thbse imper­fections remedied. This delusion was encouraged by the influence of the classics, with their exaggerated faith in the power of¹ the legislator. If Lycurgus, by imposing a few rules of life, could turn men into Spartans, it must be comparatively easy to turn Frenchmen into men. It was not yet a commonplace that we ourselves, our characters, prejudices, and habits, as well as the laws and institutions under which we live, are the result of a long process of evolution. When this truth is half recognised, as it is by Rousseau himself, who holds that the work done by Calvin in Geneva is impossible in a larger State, the conclusion drawn is that things must go on as they are, and that only partial palliatives are possible. The idea of progress, of gradual amelioration, is never suggested, except by Turgot in a prize essay; and, although Utopias are not wanting, no writer before the Revolution made any systematic attempt to forecast the probable future of society, the direction in which it would advance.

We should far exceed our limits were we to attempt to trace the history of the idea of nature, her rights, and her law, from the Sophistic antithesis of nature and convention, from the doctrine of the Stoics, popularised by Cicero and applied by the Roman lawyers, through the writings of the theologians and jurists of the Middle Ages down to the days of Grotius and Selden. But it must not be forgotten that many of what are called the principles of 1789 were recognised and used as convenient weapons against the authority of the Crown during the sixteenth century both by Catholics and Huguenots; by none more emphatically than by the priest Boucher and the Jesuit Mariana.

Men, said Boucher, are by nature free. The people choose their prince and confer upon him their sovereignty; but they who delegate their authority remain the superiors of their representative. Civil law gives the ward a remedy against an unjust guardian; the King is the guardian and patron of his people and may be deposed if he oppresses them. It is the duty of subjects to resist a prince who violates God’s law, the theological equivalent for the philosopher’s law of Nature.

Mariana, in his celebrated apology for tyrannicide, also asserts that the derived authority of the prince is subordinated to the popular sovereignty; for we cannot suppose that all the members of the State would voluntarily have stripped themselves of their rights and have handed themselves over unconditionally to the good-will of an individual.

Such doctrines, advanced by the apologists pf intolerance and perse­cution, the partisans of Spain, and the enemies of national independence, were not attractive to the majority of Frenchmen. Weary of civil strife and anarchy, of political and theological controversy, disgusted by the selfish and unpatriotic intrigues of princes and nobles, the people were led by a sound instinct to rally round the monarchy, the centre and the iymbol of national life. This conservatism is conspicuous in the writings of that genius who more perhaps than any other undermined in France the foundations of belief. Montaigne (1533-93) drew from his con­viction, that human reason cannot attain to, truth, and that every argu­ment may be met by another equally cogent, the practical conclusion that to make reason arbiter in social and political questions must lead to anarchy, and that therefore a wise man will not by. innovations weaken the force of custom and tradition, the foundation and the strength of all lavs and institutions. It is better, he says, to endure a bad law than by altering it to impair • the authority of habit. The evils of change, the miseries of revolution, are indisputable; the advantages of this or that form of government are debateable, Why encounter a most certain evil for the sake of, a most doubtful good ?

But, while Montaigne’s belief that truth is unattainable led him also to deprecate any attack on the doctrines of the Church, of which he believed the effects to be wholesome, he again and again suggested a destructive criticism of those doctrines and placed the most deadly arms in the hands of others, who like Voltaire, believed their effects to be evil. The “Libertines,” as they were called, Epicurean free-thinkers and sceptics, avowed followers of Montaigne, one of the best known and last of whom was Saintjfivremond (1613 C.-1703), the friend of Ninon de l’Enclos, continued the tradition of incredulity during the seventeenth century. They held faith to be the negation of reason and that we should follow our natural impulses and instincts. Rightly consulted and understood our nature is a law to, itself. But it was from Bayle (1646-1706), and not from them, that Voltaire and the other assailants of orthodoxy and tradition borrowed their most effective weapons.

There may, at first sight, appear to be but little of the spirit of the eighteenth century in Bayle’s writings. Like Montaigne he rejects the authority of reason, in which alone the “philosophers” believed; and unlike Montaigne, who holds that if little better than animals we are little worse, and as prone to virtue as to vice, he maintains with Pascal that man’s nature is essentially evil. Virtue is a perpetual struggle of will against natural instincts; and the history of civilisation is, according

The method of Bayle.

5

to him, the history of man’s successful efforts to overcome and rise above his nature. As for a golden age, that, he asserts, must be sought, not prior to civil society, but prior to creation; for then, and then only,pain and sorrow, moral and physical evil, were unknown.

In politics, moreover, Bayle was a timid conservative, wholly averse from revolutionary principles. Yet his Dictionary was the storehouse from which the philosophers of the following generation derived their method and no small part of their ideas and their facts. The irreverent banter or ironical reverence with which the most solemn subjects are treated, the skill with which the reader is insensibly led to the con­viction that he is far less certain about things than he imagined, the insidious suggestion that, although all reason is against such a creed, it is perhaps as well to believe in God, in Providence, and in im­mortality—if you are fool enough—all this in Bayle breathes the very spirit of “ philosophism.” The method of the Ehcycbpedie as described by Diderot is the method of Bayle’s Dictionary. “Articles dealing with respectable prejudices must expound them deferentially; the edifice of clay must be shattered by referring the reader to other articles in which the opposite truths are established on sound principles. This method of enlightening the reader has an immediate influence on those who are quick of apprehension, an indirect and latent influence on all.” It was from Bayle that writers, anxious not to give too sudden a shock to prejudice or to avoid consequences unpleasant to themselves, learnt the art of suggesting the most extreme conclusions from seemingly innocent premises. Yet one liberal principle was openly advocated by the cautious and conservative Bayle—that of toleration. His Commentavre philosophique sur le CompeUe Intrare was published in 1686, three years before Locke’s Letters on Toleration. Free thought is, he argues, a natural right, since neither religious creeds nor philosophic theory admit. of demonstration, but are matters of conjecture. Nor is it dangerous to allow menTd exercise this right, for even an atheist is not necessarily a bad citizen. Society could exist without religion.

This brief sketch will suffice to show that one part of the philosophic doctrine of the eighteenth century, the negative and destructive part, was already in existence before the seventeenth century had ended; and we have also noticed that the positive conceptions of popular sovereignty and natural rights were familiar to the publicists of the sixteenth century. The great writers of the age of Louis XIV either concerned themselves but little with political theory, or gave their support to that ideal of government which it was the ambition of the “great monarch” to realise. Descartes in theory held that the State should resemble a town symmetri­cally planned on a level site; but in practice he was a conservative. Who, he asked, would wish to pull down the buildings of an ancient city in order that it might be rebuilt by square and line? Slow reforms are best; it is far easier to destroy than to construct. Pascal—a pessimist in

6

Pascal.—Bossuet.—Hobbes.

politics as in all else—maintains^ like Spinoza and Hobbes, that might is right; for, he adds, plight is might and right is not. As justice could npt be made strong, force was justified; and so peace at aU, events was secured. It is dangerous to let the’people know that the laws are not just. “This dog is mine,” said those poor children. “This.is my place in the sunshine.” “Such,” he exclaims, “was the origin of in­justice and usurpation among men.” But while the sun of Louis XIV stood in the zenith these; were but unheeded mutterings; and Bossuet set out with great pomp_:of words the theory of the absolute monarchy. The authority of Kings is sacred, absolute, indefeasible. “Ye are gods” the Scriptures declare. The sovereignty of Kings is prior to all law, which owes its validity to their enactment or assent.

The French civil wars of the sixteenth century, though the immediate issue had been religious rather than political, had led men to investigate the basis of political authority; in a still greater measure this was the result of the struggle between the Crown and the Parliament in England, where the questions d sputed were mainly constitutional. The leaders of the Long Parliament, many of whom had been educated at the Inns of Court, had for the most part the distaste for appeals to first principles characteristic of ;Ejiglish lawyers; so that, although there was a disposi­tion among the more extreme fanatics tq refer to natural,¹ rights and to the indefeasible sovereignty of the people, the opposition to the Crown was mainly based on constitutional and legal precedents. It is therefore not surprising that the first attempt to settle the controversy between King,and people by logical deductions from abstract assumptions should have been; made by a champion of absolutism. It was a dangerous in­novation to appeal to reason for- the justification of despotism. To do so was to acknowledge the authority of a tribunal whose verdict was likely to be adverse. Moreover, Hobbes (1588-1679) gave to the compact on which he based his State a singularly unreasonable form. The social pact according to him, was a covenant made by every man with every man to give up their natural freedom, their natural right to everything, to the man (or body of men) whom they chose to represent them, to submit their wills to the sovereign’s will, their judgment to his judgment. While the subjects were bound by this covenant the sovereign was left perfectly fee, both because his people had covenanted with each other not to resist his will, and because he still retained his natural right to all things, his natural liberty to do all things. It was reasonable for men to seek to escape from Hobbes’ state of nature, a state indeed of natural liberty ajid equality but also of war of all against all, in which they were “solitary, brutish, vile, and miserable”; but was it reasonable that they should unconditionally surrender up themselves, their lives, and properties to the goodwill of the sovereign ?

But the political speculations of Hobbies, as well as his crude sensualist and utilitarian doctrine, influenced French thought not so much directly

Locke and his influence.

1

as through the teaching of his follower and opponent Locke (1632-1704). Locke’s Essay concerning Human Understanding is the chief source of the French philosophy of the eighteenth century, of the philosophy of common sense, which though condemned as shallow gave at least an intelligible answer to the most momentous questions. It may be that it dealt but superficially with problems, the solution of which it is probably the fate of humanity to be ever seeking and never to find; yet it satisfied the irany, and this doctrine more profound, but neither so intelligible nor so logical, could not have done. In the works of Locke may be found nearly all the most essential principles which influenced the political and social theories of the French writers. According to him, men, born virtuous, free, and equal, originally lived in a state of nature, which was gradually corrupted by the growth of property and luxury, until, to check greater evils, civil government—an evil itself, so far as it limits natural freedom—was instituted. Man has natural rights, dis­coverable by right reason, which existed in the state of nature; but law, a measure by which controversies may be decided, a judge to apply that law, and force to support his decisions, were then wanting. It was to supply these and for lie protection of life and property that government *ras instituted; the members of the State by the Social Compact surrender­ing their rights so far as was necessary to secure these ends, but retaining others which are to be maintained even against the sovereign. As civil government in itself is an evil, its functions should be strictly limited. Man’s reason is the highest law. Before civil society is instituted, reason is the one law, the law of nature; in civil society it still is the test of the validity of all law. No law can be binding which is opposed to right reason, the foundation on which all law rests. As the Contrat Social of Rousseau is the outcome of Locke’s Treatises on Government, so is the Girdle of his Thoughts concerning Education; while the Englishman’s Letters on Toleration gave a great impulse to the crusade led by Voltaire against intolerance, although he lays less stress than Voltaire and his followers on the sceptieal argument against persecution: the absurdity and error, or at all events the uncertainty, of the doctrines assent to which is to be enforced.

Enough has been said to show that at the end of the seventeenth century “ principles ” were not wanting to which the French people might appeal should a time come when they were no longer satisfied with the existing social and political arrangements. Already there were many signs that this time was near. The ruin of the finances was complete. The condition of the rural population was wretched. The peasants indeed, as Sir William Temple had noticed in the earlier and more prosperous years of the reign of Louis XIV, were so dispirited by labour and want that their misery was no danger to the govern­ment; but Frenchmen with any jatriotism or feeling could not but

8

Political stimulus to destructive thought.

conclude with Vauban and La Bruyere, with Fenelon and Saint-Simon, that there was something amiss in institutions, under which a large part of the industrious population of the most fertile country in Europe was condemned to a life of abject suffering.

Moreover the undoubted stimulus, which had been given to manu­factures and trade by the policy of Colbert, had, by increasing the wealth and importance of the middle classes, prepared them to welcome doctrines subversive of social distinctions and privileges. De Tocqueville remarks that the policy of the French monarchy had encouraged the jealousy and hostility of classes to prevent their common action. It certainly had aggravated that rancorous envy of the privileges of birth and station which is one of the less amiable features of the French character. “ My motto,” said Camille Desmoulins, “ is that of every honourable man—no superior.” This is the spirit which many of the most acute contemporary observers, men so different as Montlosier, Rivarol, and Roederer, held to be one of the chief causes of the Revolution.

Although Louis XIV played out his part on the public stage not without dignity amid calamities which would have overwhelmed a weaker character, the eyes of his subjects during his later years were no longer blinded to the shortcomings of the government by his glory and by the splendour of his Court. The pharisaical decency imposed upon the courtiers did not excuse in the eyes of the majority of the devout— Jansenists or sympathisers with the Jansenists—subservience to Jesuit intolerance; while the cruel persecution of the Protestants disgusted believers whose humanity was stronger than their religious passions, and still more so the free-thinkers, a growing class among the educated. “Every young man,” wrote the Duchess of Orleans in 1679, “either is or affects to be an atheist.” There was a general sense of oppression, a vague desire for reforms and for greater freedom, and a growing im­patience of a savagely intolerant, narrow, and, as it seemed, hypocritical orthodoxy.

Almost eveiything that was done or left undone by the government of the Regent Orleans tended to strengthen these feelings. The Parlia­ment had under Louis XIV been strictly confined to its judicial functions. The first public act of the Regent was to invite the magistrates, tacitly assumed to be the representatives of the sovereign people, to determine how the country should be governed during the King’s minority. Hence­forth up to the very end of the monarchy the lawyers set themselves to oppose administrative reforms as the champions of the people, and, no longer refusing “to unveil the august secrets and mystery of sovereignty,’¹ claimed to be “ as it were a compendium of the Three Estates,” thus keeping alive the idea of popular sovereignty. Reverence for the Crown was impaired by the cynical profligacy of the Regent and by the elevation to the highest place in Church and State of his favourite

Law's scheme.—Religious conflicts.

9

Dubois, the most unscrupulous knave ever raised from mean estate by brilliant talents and the basest arts.

The failure of Law’s scheme still further degraded and discredited the government. The King, as a French historian remarks, or at least the King’s representatives, had turned bankers, and had proved unsuc­cessful and fraudulent bankers. Moreover the Mississippi Bubble had brought the nobil’ty and the moneyed classes into closer contact. Many of the greater nobles had used their prudently realised profits to satisfy their creditors; others who had not speculated in the Rue Quincampoix took advantage of the depreciated paper currency to pay off their mortgages. But such material advantages were purchased by the aristocracy at the price of diminished self-respect and public consider­ation. Sordid care for gain had not hitherto been one of the vices of the French nobles. Honest trade was still scorned; but henceforth men of the highest rank did not hesitate to stain their scutcheons by marry­ing the daughters of financiers, and to repair their waste by sharing in the questionable but lucrative speculations of their fathers-in-law, whom they flattered and humiliated. Throwing away their pride, these nobles, perhaps for that very reason, wrapped themselves more closely in their vanity. The uneasy familiarity, to which the rich financier and his children were admitted by “people of quality,” made the impassable barrier by which they were separated more palpable and more invidious. The rich parvenu knew that he was richer, and close intercourse convinced him that he was not less cultivated, intelligent, and refined, than these descendants of the Crusaders. It is significant that the wealthy publicans and stockjobbers were the most eager patrons of the philosophers, the most ready to welcome, or, like Helvetius, to disseminate, their most subversive doctrines. The idea of equality, to which, says Senac de Meilhan, the people were at first indifferent, was cherished by the rich.

Meantime the Jansenist controversy, and the fierce and indecent conflict between the Molinist hierarchy and the Gallican Parlement over the Bull Unigenitus, dealt a deadly blow to religion. Nothing, except perhaps the extravagances of the Jansenist enthusiasts, was more likely to encourage incredulity than the arguments by which the Molinists sought to discredit the well-attested miracles of the deacon Paris. The diarist Barbier, a typical bourgeois of education, remarks that what was now seen taught men what to think of the miracles and marvels of former times; and so, no doubt, many reasoned. The Bull Unigenitus, wrote the Marquis d’Argenson, and not the philosophy imported from England, is the cause of the present hatred of the priesthood.

Many Frenchmen had visited England during the reign of Charles II when the intercourse between the two Courts had been close. French reviews began to notice English works about 1717; not a few English books had been translated; and almost all the subjects touched upon by Voltaire in his Letters on the English had been dealt with before his

10

Vottcure's Letters on the English.

return to France in 1729, but without attracting attention. Locke’s Essay had been translated in 1700, hut few copies were sold till 1725. Circumstances had not as yet suggested that any practical lesson could be learnt by France from her northern neighbours; and “ the immediate force of speculative literature depends on practical opportune­ness.” Nor was it till much later that the thought of transplanting any part of the English Constitution was seriously entertained. Just as it was the experimental and rationalistic method of the English writers, rather than their actual doctrines, which so greatly influenced French thought in the eighteenth century, so it was the comparison of the general spirit which inspired the administration in the two countries, and of the results of government in them, which encouraged the dis­content of the French with their own institutions, rather than any wish directly to imitate a nation very generally regarded as “ seditious and violent, brutal in temperament, and always in extremes.”

The publication of Voltaire’s Letters on the English (1734) may be taken as marking the point when the active campaign of the “philo­sophers ” against the existing order of State, Church, and society began in France. The assault on the Church from the first was direct and uncompromising; that on the State was indirect, and often scarcely intentional on the part even of those by whom it was most advanced, It is significant that Voltaire’s book should begin with a description of the Quakers, which enables the writer to attack indirectly every ob­servance of sacerdotalism, every tenet of dogjnatic Christianity. When he passes on to the.other sects,he loses no opportunity of sneering at the orthodox faith and commending toleration. He lays stress on the absence of a privileged nobility and on the respect shown to trade, but he deals shortly with the Constitution and government. Not less charac­teristic is it that he does not mention the political speculations of Locke, only noticing his refutation of innate ideas and of Cartesian spiritualism.

The: polemical activity of Voltaire (1694-1778) continued for nearly half a century; but the whole plan of his campaign and the objects to which it was directed are indicated in this book of some 150 short pages. His life henceforth was a constant warfare against superstition, identified with Christianity, which he believed to be the source of all intolerance and misery, and against those “ unreasonable ” scientific and metaphysical theories, which were capable of being pressed into the services of ortho­doxy, or which were obstacles to the supremacy of common sense.

We are not concerned with Voltaire as a critic of literature or historian or metaphysician; but we may notice that in every department of human knowledge—and there was hardly any into which he did not enter—he showed himself ';he same philistine of transcendent cleverness. He expresses the views and arguments of the average educated man in the most felicitous language, with the most marvellous lucidity, and with the most brilliant wit. But while the average man has been

taught to distrust his own judgment, Voltaire is fully persuaded, and with good reason, of his own .cleverness and sterling common sense. What he cannot understand must therefore he concludes be nonsense; and what does not please him must be bad. He therefore loudly pro­claims opinions which the ordinary man holds, but hesitates to acknow­ledge even to himself* Socrates was either madman or knave; Aristotle is unintelligible; Plato a dotard. All systems of philosophy are perfectly futile; and metaphysicians do not understand their own foolish busier® When in his Dictionary he sums up under Philosophie the grains of common sense he has been able to gather .from the writings of philo­sophers, a reader with no taste for metaphysics is likely to recognise an admirable summary of his own conclusions.

His canon of historical criticism is that what appears absurd to him is incredible. He has all the prejudices of the average man who relies on his common sense, and of an unimaginative student of natural science who believes only in generalisations derived from observation and in logical deductions from such premises. Hence he was entirely wanting in originality; and it has been truly said that there were, Voltairians before Voltaire wrote. His influence was so great because he forcibly enunciated ideas which were held half unconsciously or timidly by his readers. : All the crowd, in the well-known story, saw that the Emperor was naked; but it was only after the child put into words what all had seen that the general conviction had any practical result. Clearly to formulate and to assert prevalent opinions was in itself to threaten the existence of institutions which were out of harmony with them. The force of habit, dislike of change, self-interest, induce men to admit a strange inconsistency between their real beliefs and their social arrange­ments. Nor is it easy to startle them out of their sluggish acquiescence. To have done this was Voltaire’s great achievement.        ,

Like many others of the middle class who have gained wealth and consideration, Voltaire was conservative from fear of the future, not from reverence for the past. He was far from believing that his persistent attacks on the Church would shake the monarchy. But the strangest of his delusions was the conviction that all dogma could be swept away, yet a residuum of belief retained sufficient to supply a necessary sanction for the morality of the uneducated. Since he held the lower classes to be barbarians, incapable of culture and inaccessible to reason, it would have been logical to refrain from any interference with their faith. And at times he writes as if this had been his wish. He remarks, for instance, that when an old superstition is well established a wise states­man will use it as a bit, which the people have voluntarily taken into their mouths. But it does not seem that he would have extended this forbearance to Roman Catholicism, which he believed to be the most mischievous of creeds. It was chiefly the intolerance of the Roman Church, an intolerance which appears to be the logical consequence of

her doctrine, that made him her irreconcilable enemy. To celibacy and monasticism moreover he had a rooted aversion. They were un­natural and unreasonable, and founded on that ascetic contempt of the body with which he and his contemporaries had so little sympathy. He attributed the prosperity of England to the riddance that had been effected of priests, eremites, and friars “ with all their trumpery,” and believed that “ the voice of reason now supreme ” would applaud such a reform in France. He thought that it could be carried out, not only without producing any civil discord, but even without serious disturbance of the popular faith. In this he anticipated, even if he was not re­sponsible for, the delusion of the Constituent Assembly.

Writing in 1750, he says that the privileges of the Church will crumble away like an old ruin whenever it may please the Prince to touch them. The King had only to say a word and the Pope would have no more authority in France than in Prussia. Herein he was only expressing opinions very generally held. D’Argenson said that the Revolution would begin with an attack upon the priests, who would be tom to pieces in the streets. Barbier notes that all Paris is filled with passionate hatred of the Molinist hierarchy, and that this anti-Roman party is swelled by all honest folk who detest persecution and injustice. Voltaire’s diatribes against Catholicism and Christianity continued to be virulent, even after his fear of the consequences of the atheistic teaching of his more advanced friends, and perhaps an honest conviction, had led him to undertake the defence of natural religion. Men at all times and places had believed in the existence of a Supreme Being; and the belief, he declared, was reasonable.

Nor did his common sense allow him to believe that a time was at hand when mankind would be the docile subjects of logic and reason. The human race generally was not in his opinion two degrees nearer to civilisation than the savages of Kamtschatka. In most countries he thought the multitude of brute beasts called “ men ” outnumbered those who think by at least 100 to 1. Yet a popular government is, he says, less iniquitous than despotism; unfortunately it is only possible in a small and favourably situated country. It will no doubt commit errors of policy and be divided by factions; but we shall not see in it Sicilian Vespers, St Bartholomews, Irish massacres, men burnt by the Inquisition, or sent to the galleys for drawing a pail of water from the sea. In another place he maintains that a Republican constitution is the best,

because under it the nearest approach is made to natural equality_ by

which he means an equal right to personal liberty, to property, and to the protection of the laws. The English cry for liberty and property is according to him, the cry of nature.

He comes nearest to radical doctrine in the Idies Republicaines published in 1765. He there defines the ideal function of civil govern­ment as “ the execution by one or more of the General Will in accord-

His practical proposals.

13

ance with laws voted by all.” The English, he says, are to be envied, because among them every citizen has recovered those natural rights, which the subjects of other monarchies have lost. These are the right of each individual to the unimpeded control of his actions and pro­perty, the right of addressing his fellow-citizens through the press, of being tried on all criminal charges in accordance with strict law before a jury of independent men, and of professing without molestation whatever religion he pleases. He considers that there is no reason why the French should not enjoy these rights under the existing monarchy. Voltaire had no political and hardly any social reforms greatly at heart. But he was impatient of what was unreasonable; he was humane and good- natured ; and therefore wished the people, “ vile canaille ” though they were, to be happy and contented. He was rich and therefore anxious to secure order and stability. The reforms he desired were those which would naturally suggest themselves to such a man. Even as regards religion, all that he $sked for the present was: that all creeds should be tolerated and civil rights extended to the Protestants, and even to the Jews—a miserable and contemptible race; that no ecclesiastical law should have any force unless sanctioned by the State; that the govern­ment should fix what feasts should be observed, and regulate the marriage laws; that there should be no privilege of clergy; and that excommuni­cation, annates, and other payments to Rome should be forbidden.

He attacked torture with indignant common sense. Was the man who might be innocent to endure suffering much more terrible than the punishment which he would incur if guilty ? He eagerly advocated a reform of the criminal laws, such as was demanded by Beccaria. The innocent children of a felon ought not to be punished by the confiscation of his property, nor a servant girl put to death for stealing half-a-dozen napkins. Criminal procedure ought not to be secret and a pitfall for the innocent. There ought not to be twenty different systems of law in the same kingdom. All laws ought to be clear and intelligible. All citizens should be equal in the eyes of the law, and all fiscal privileges ought to be abolished; a vexatious system of internal taxes and tolls should not prevent commodities from being sent to the place where they were needed. Such are the most important reforms asked for by Voltaire. They are all demanded again and again in the cahiers of 1789, and were effected by the Constituent Assembly.

Voltaire hated theorists and “ ideologuesand appealed throughout to common sense and utility rather than to general principles and a priori conceptions. Living when he did, it was impossible that he should not sometimes speak of “nature” and “natural laws”; yet even then he never loses touch with reality. He denies that the savage is the “natural man.” Primitive man was the dirtiest and most miserable of brutes, wholly absorbed in the struggle for existence. To live freely among equals is true life. Our lives are more in accordance with nature than that of the

14

Reformers among the nobility.

savage, who transgresses her law from morning to night, being useless to himself and to others. For we are naturally social beings; consequently the law of our nature is to do what is conducive to social happiness. Like almost every writer of the eighteenth century Voltaire believed the people to be what institutions and rulers make them; but he did not share the prevailing delusion that the removal of all mischievous institutions and restrictions -would restore them to a state of primitive virtue and happi­ness. He could not indeed allow that man is naturally evil—for that was the Christian doctrine. But as things are, he believes the populace to be everywhere the same, stupid and cruel, and that at bottom none are more cruel than his own countrymen,' the mildness and docility of whose disposition it was then the fashion to extol.

There is little that can be called original in the many volumes of Voltaire; but he rarely says anything that is not eminently rational, lucid, and convincing; and he says the same thing over and over again, never fearing to repeat himself, never striving after originality, but determined to be heard, and charming his reader by his brilliant lucidity, by his wit, and by sparing him every intellectual effort, even the strain of careful attention. He was the leader of the attack on the Church, on superstition, intolerance, and injustice, the most brilliant and persuasive assertor of the authority of reason; but he did nothing that others also were not attempting, that left undone by him they might not have accomplished. His work was negative. He cleared away the obstacles which dammed back the rapidly rising flood, but his hand was only the most active and unerring of many engaged in the same task; and even unassisted the impatient stream would have overflowed and borne away the impediments to its course.

The suffei ings of the last years of Louis XIV’s reign had called the attention of many to the faults of his rule, and had led them to desire a change in the spirit and method of government. Sofaie of these reformers had been among the friends of the Duke of Burgundy, and had trusted that the accession of the pupil of Fenelon would enable them to realise their hopes. They were for the most part nobles who regretted an idealised feudalism. Their views therefore had little influence on the future, yet one author who belonged to this party must be mentioned. This is the Comte de Boulainvilliers (1658-1722), who, in two works posthumously published, a History of the Ancient Government of France and Letters on the Parlenient, maintained the Feudal System to be the masterpiece of the human intellect. Everything gained by the authority of the Crown, every franchise obtained by the commons, was according to him a usurpation, an infraction of the rights based on conquest of the nobility, the heirs of the conquering Franks. This theory was accepted in part by Montesquieu, and by the Parlement when defending in 1776 the privileges of the nobles against Turgot, and was turned against

Vauban.—Saint-Pierre.

15

the feudal classes with fatal effect by their revolutionary enemies. If the people were the conquered Gauls, why should they, when might was on their side, endure the oppression of men who boasted themselves to be their alien conquerors P           ■ .

But even under Louis XIV there were reformers who looked to the future rather than to the past. Among them may perhaps be counted the illustrious name of Vauban. In his Dime Roy ale he insists on the misery of the people. One-tenth of the industrious population, the real strength of the State, were, he says, destitute, and this shortly after the Peace .of Ryswick, before the most disastrous years of the reign. A complete reform of the fiscal system was, he said, as just as it was necessary; for there was a “ natural ” obligation on all citizens to contribute to the support of the government-in proportion to their ability; and every privilege exempting from this obligation was alike unjust and contrary to the common interest. ( During the Regency and under the administration of Fleury political questions were discussed with a freedom that had been impossible in the previous reign. A spirit of reform was abroad. In 1724 some men who shared the growing interest in social and political questions agreed to meet every week for the purpose of reading essays and holding discussions in the rooms of a certain Abbe Alary. They called themselves the Club de VEntresol from the place of their meeting. We may suppose the English name of “Club,” now first used in France, to have been suggested by Bolingbroke, who was one of the score or so of diplomatists, officials, and men of letters, who were members of this society. The leading spirit of the Entresol, at all events the most prolific contributor of essays and harangues, was the Abbe de Saint-Pierre (1658-1743). The Club was suppressed by Fleury in 1731; but the members must have had a remarkable incapacity for being bored, a most vigorous interest in the subjects discussed, or it would not so long have survived the lucubrations of so pitiless a pedant, so indefatigable a reformer as the excellent Abbe. He had projects for everything, from securing a perpetual peace by the establishment of a European diet to the “utilisation of dukes and peers.” There were among his ideas some which were sound, and some which afterwards made their way in the world. In two points more especially the Abbe de Saint-Pierre foreshadowed or contributed to the beliefs of the next generation. He had faith in the perfectibility of mankind. The race is as yet, he said, in its childhood. Like La Bruyere he considers our experience of some 7000 or 8000 years superficial and incomplete. “How old do you call yourself?” asked Fontenelle. “About 10” was the answer. And secondly his religion was a deism, more like that of Rousseau than that of Voltaire; for, although he would wish a priest to be something between a policeman and a relieving officer, he seems to have been by no means devoid of real, albeit sentimental, religious feeling; and his description of Agaton, a very

wise and saintly Archbishop, is a curious analogue to that of the Savoyard vicar.

Another member of the Entresol was the better known Marquis d’Argenson (1694-1757), Intendant of Hainault, and for a short time (1744-7) Minister of Foreign Affairs. D’Argenson was fully convinced that the time was out of joint, and not less that he was bom to set it right. His constantly disappointed hope to be invited to do so made him a, bitter critic of the government. His memoirs afford abundant citations to historians who wish to paint the maladministration of the old monarchy and the rr'serj of its subjects in the darkest colours; but, positive as he is in assertion, his views vary from day to day with his spirits, and these greatly depend on a chance word from the King. The grumbles of a pessimist, who is also a disappointed office-seeker, are not always very trustworthy evidence. D’Argenson’s political views and pro­gramme are contained in his Considerations on the Government of France, a work published in 1764 after his death, but written many years earlier to refute the reactionary and feudal Boulainvilliers. He is strongly in favour of decentralisation. To govern well it is necessary to govern less. An order of the Council should not be required to repair a bad road, or a hole in a church wall. The government should be content to leave something undone; a physician does not undertake to digest for his patients. He would have the country divided into districts, boroughs, and municipalities, the administration of which should be entrusted to officials appointed by the Intendants from lists of candidates elected by the communes. The Provincial Estates should be composed of repre­sentatives of the districts and a few great landowners, sitting in one Chamber. He would abolish all internal tolls and duties, and inclines to permit free trade with foreign countries. Those who cultivate the 'and should be relieved from all feudal dues and obligations. If people would lay aside their prejudices they must allow that it is most conducive to the good of the State that all men should be equal. Nobles are but drones in the hive. He thinks it no objection to his principles that, they are favourable to democracy and tend to the destruction of the nobi. ity. But he has no wish to limit the authority of the Crown. The powers of the Roman tribunes, of the English Parliament, of the States General, the right of remonstrance claimed by the French law Courts are mischievous; for the sovereign power whether in a monarchy or a republic should be one and unquestioned, like that of the Almighty. “The whole art of government consists in nothing else than the perfect imitation of God no doubt an easy art, at all events one in which d’Argenson imagined himself to be well versed. At the same time he would, have the Prince remember that he exists for the people, and that they are not his chattels. D’Argenson thought Morelly’s Code de la Nature, which we shall have to notice hereafter as one of the earliest sources of modem Socialism, “ the book of books,” and far superior to.

Montesquieu.—The Lettres Persanes.

17

Montesquieu’s great work. He has himself been justly called a socialistic rather than a liberal royalist; but the Due de Richelieu’s description of him as “ the Secretary of State of Plato’s Republic ” is scarcely just, for it is clear that, had he obtained the coveted place of Prime Minister, he would have attempted reforms not very unlike those afterwards undertaken by Turgot, and in a spirit even more uncompromising. His ideal for France was a reforming despotism based on local self­government, with equal laws and equal opportunities for all. To a certain extent he anticipated the doctrines of the Economists. So early as 1739 he thought a treaty admitting English manufactures would be good for France, since it would divert French capital and labour from manufactures to agriculture—a more truly productive employment. Some years later he hears that the English have taken off import duties. He wonders whether they have fully recognised the profit they may derive from making their island the world’s market. It is a mistake for a government to try to direct production. Liberty, Liberty, he exclaims, this is what is wanted for individuals and communities.

Montesquieu (1689-1755) printed his Persian Letters in 1721. The popularity of this book, one of the most remarkable of the century, was great and immediate. It breathes the spirit of the reaction, then at its height, against the monarchy of Louis XIV; and, written thirteen years before Voltaire’s Letters on the English, it anticipates his attack on intolerance and orthodoxy. As a satire of society it is weak, for the characters described are lifeless types; and a modem reader is disgusted by a frigid and elaborate indecency, very characteristic of that period and far more repulsive than the spontaneous obscenity of Aristophanes or Rabelais. But when the writer turns to religious and political matters there is no want of outspoken vigour. The Pope is an old idol, wor­shipped from habit, yet still a potent magician, since he can make men believe that three are one, and that the bread they eat, the wine they drink, are neither bread nor wine. Nor had the state of affairs so com­pletely changed in France that her rulers could read with complacency such an attack as that contained in the Persian Letters on the memory of the late King. It is true that the Regent could not be reproached with a minister of eighteen and a mistress of eighty years, nor with banishing his most useful and industrious subjects. But it was not Louis XIV alone who rewarded the man who handed him a napkin more liberally than the captain who had won a battle, and gave a small pension to an officer who had run away for two leagues, but a rich government to him who had run four. Nor was the preceding reign the only one in which pensions had been so lavishly granted as to make it appear that Princes, in consideration of the merits of their courtiers, had decided to enact that every labourer should henceforth diminish his children’s daily bread by one-fifth.

Few readers in these days probably lay down The Spirit of the Laws, the great work with which the name of Montesquieu is generally associated, without a feeling of disappointment, and of wonder that a book which is less a book than the materials for one should have obtained so vast a reputation not in France alone, but throughout Europe and especially in England. It was natural indeed that Burke should have exerted his unequalled command of hyperbole to extol the foreigner who had so well appreciated the merits of the British Constitu­tion; but Horace Walpole and Gibbon are scarcely less emphatic in their commendation. Walpole probably was very ready to appreciate the merits of the wit and man of quality, who, like himself, affected to regret a vulgar impulse to join the scribbling herd; while the historian of the Decline and Fall was likely to be a kindly critic of a writer who at least had pointed out the way to the field in which he was himself to win renown. But we must remember that it is in part because the success of Montesquieu has been so great that it is now difficult to do him full justice. Much that he said for the first time has become trite. The ideas that he suggested have been developed and elaborated, so that as presented by him they appear crude and incomplete. It is not the .least of his merits that he attempts to apply a historical and indnctive method to political and social questions; but to this we are now accustomed, and we are most struck by the faults in the application of that method. Much in short that was then original now seems commonplace, and errors then scarcely to be avoided are in our eyes inexcusable.

But we may not stop to attempt a criticism or analysis of The Spirit of the Laws. It is ■ sufficient for our purpose to set forth the leading ideas which Montesquieu wished to impress on his readers. He begins by asserting a general proposition, that the constitution most in con­formity with nature—nature as understood by jurists and Stoics-^-is that which is best suited to the character of the nation for which it is intended. There is no absolutely best form of government. If law generally is the reason of mankind, the civil and political laws of each nation should be the application of that reason to particular cases. The laws should correspond to the character and principles of the established government, and like it must depend upon and suit the climate and physical conditions of the country. But it is not the illustration and practical application of this general principle that Montesquieu has most at heart. He believes that the salvation of France depends upon the possibility of undoing the evil work of Richelieu and Louis XIV, and of a return to the old monarchy, as he conceives it to have existed under Henry IV or Louis XII. The danger which threatens France is despotism, leading to anarchy. He would warn his countrymen, renew and invigorate their love of liberty. He is a liberal conservative, who would temper monarchy by aristocratic

Montesquieu's political ideals.

19

institutions, the antithesis of d’Argenson, one of the first advocates of democratic and socialistic despotism. Monarchies perish when obedience becomes servile, when honour—the sense of personal dignity and love of privilege—is no more, when the nobles are the despised instruments of the Prince, when the dishonourable and the base are honoured; when the monarch, abolishing all institutions and bodies intermediate between himself and his people, seeks to centralise all government in himself; when, in short, a kingdom is in the condition of France under Louis XV. Montesquieu is convinced that all undivided sovereignty is bad—whether in the hands of the one or of the many; it leads to despotism, and despotism to anarchy.

The best form of government accordingly is a carefully balanced constitution such as that of England; but this, he allows, can only be brought into being and continue to exist by some most fortunate combination of circumstances. The next best polity is a monarchy in which the power of the Prince is limited by love of privilege among the nobles and by the existence of intermediate bodies which will be an obstacle to arbitrary action and will guide the obedience of the subjects. He is disposed to approve of everything which creates friction and so impedes the direct action of the Sovereign; even the law’s delays are in so far salutary. The first aim of tyrants is, he says, to simplify the laws, because they recognise in their forms an obstacle to despotism. This desire to limit the power of the Sovereign distinguishes Montesquieu from almost all the political theorists of his age. The philosophers generally had no objection to enlightened despotism, still less had the Economists ,• whilst it was the aim of the followers of Rousseau to free the sovereign people from all checks and trammels.

Montesquieu thought that the supreme merit of the British Con­stitution, the security that undivided sovereignty should not become despotism, lay in the performance of the executive, legislative, and judicial functions by special bodies—the King’s ministers, the legisla­ture, and the law Courts: a misconception sufficiently plausible to be accepted by Blackstone and other English authorities as well as by the able men who framed the Constitution of the United States. He sug­gested that the evils under which France was suffering might be remedied by doing that which Burke reproached the Constituent Assembly for having left undone. He would have had “privileges which, though discontinued, were not lost to memory ” restored, and those opposed and conflicting interests which “ interpose a salutary check on all precipitate resolutions ” so organised as to limit the arbitrary power of the govern­ment. In short, he wished the constitution of the old monarchy “ which had suffered waste and dilapidation ” to be rebuilt and enlarged on the Same plan. That this or something'like this should be attempted was the wish of some of the more enlightened nobles, and, as would appear from the pamphlets and cahiers of 1788 and 1789, of some of the more

conservative commoners at the time of the meeting of the Estates. But there were few even among the moderate reformers who would have been content to stop just at this point. Encouraged probably by the success­ful constitution-building of the United States, the liberal royalists, a majority at one time in the Constituent Assembly, hoped to realise in France the constitution described by Montesquieu as ideally best—that of England, freed from some of its anomalies and imperfections. They were disappointed; yet, had we sufficient space, it would be easy to show that, although Si eyes prevailed, traces of Montesquieu’s influence are not wanting in the Constitution of 1791.

But the more extreme reformers might ask: was it clear that Montesquieu believed constitutional monarchy to be the ideally best form of government? Had he not said that the establishment of a democratic republic in England had been prevented by want of virtue ? And was not that constitution obviously the best of which the principle was virtue, and which could only continue to' exist so long as education and law maintained virtue, public spirit, and disinterested patriotism, checked luxury and promoted equality among its citizens? But if a republic was the best constitution, why should it not be established in France ? They had learnt from other teachers that, so soon as corrupting institutions were destroyed, the native virtue of man would assert itself. All that was needed therefore was to destroy everything that existed, to pass the laws which, according to Montesquieu, are of the essence of a republic and thus secure its existence. Unfortunately Montesquieu, who had derived his ideas of democracy from classical antiquity, had written that a republic can hardly be established without magistrates invested with an awful authority, and laws which will forcibly lead back the State to freedom that the law of public safety must prevail over every other consideration—the most execrable maxim of tyranny as Rousseau called it: and even that, “ as in old days the statues of the gods were sometimes hidden, it may at times be necessary to throw a veil over liberty.” The whole spirit of the Jacobin Revolution, it has been said, is contained in a sentence spoken by Robespierre: “ If the strength of a Republican government in time of peace is virtue, in the time of Revolution it is both virtue and fear—for fear without virtue is deadly, virtue powerless without fear.” When Robespierre said this he inay have seemed to himself and others to have been closely following the precepts of Montesquieu.

Montesquieu, like every other reformer, wishes for a complete reform of the fiscal system; but, unlike the “ Economists,” he would lighten the direct and increase the indirect taxation. He would have direct taxation progressive. The absolute necessaries of life should be exempt from all burdens. The comforts of life should be lightly taxed, mere luxuries heavily. The State should teach its members to work, and supply the opportunity of working. Its duty is to see that no citizen is without

“ an assured subsistence, daily bread, decent clothes, and a kind of life not destructive of health ”—a most momentous admission.

The Spirit of the Laws appeared in 1748; in 1753 Chesterfield, visiting Prance, recognised “ all the symptoms which he had ever met with in history previous to great changes and revolutions in government—" a celebrated prophecy, which would be a more convincing proof of the writer’s sagacity, had he not three years later foretold even more positively the imminent ruin of his own country. But no doubt in the middle of the eighteenth century the French had begun to reason more freely than ever before upon matters of religion and government. Contempt and hatred of the clergy, discontent with the government, were more and more openly proclaimed. Incredulity was no longer confined to the upper classes. D’Argenson, especially after he had lost office in 1747, predicted more and more persistently some great convulsion, which might even end in the establishment of a Republic. Observers less pessimistic than this political Cassandra were alarmed at the prevalent spirit of restlessness and discontent. This feverish disquiet preceded and was the cause, not the effect, of the numerous books on economical and political theory and practice, criticising existing institutions and suggesting more perfect social arrangements, which were produced during the next twenty years by writers differing in their views, but unanimous in ascribing the misery of the people to the organisation of society. Whatever they see amiss, the exclamation that arises to their lips is that ingeminated by Arthur Young, “ Government, all is Government.” The Economists, in their own eyes the most conservative of reformers, are wanting, as Tocqueville says, in all respect for anything that exists or that is likely to be an obstacle to the realisation of their ideal. Their books, he maintains, are instinct with the spirit of democratic revolution. It is not only that they hate certain privileges; variety itself is odious to them, and they would welcome uniformity and equality even in servitude.

According to Rabaut Saint-^ltienne the Economists first taught the French to reflect on the science of government; but Dupont of Nemours, himself one of them, with more justice considers that Montesquieu gave the impulse to the political and economical speculation of which the physio- cratic school itself was a result. Not a little also of the public interest in such matters must be ascribed to the influence of a book, L'Ami des Hommes, published in 1756 by the Marquis de Mirabeau (1715-89), afterwards the most enthusiastic follower of Quesnay (1694-1774), but at that time, as he says, “no more an Economist than his cat.” Such economic principles as his work contains he had taken from a manuscript in his possession written by Cantillon, an Anglo-French banker, part of which, On the Nature of Trade, was published in 1755. Yet there is much in Mirabeau’s book that is in harmony with the teaching of the

Physiocrats'; and its great popularity prepared the way for the diffusion of their doctrines. A contemporary critic said that the author “ thought like Montesquieu and wrote like Montaigne.” Like Quesnay the Marquis was a utopian optimist, firmly persuaded that he possessed the secret of so organising society as to secure to men the happiness for which nature intended them. He was convinced that agriculture was the source of all wealth; he was opposed to,all restrictions on trade and industry, and so thorough-going a free trader that he held a war of tariffs to be not less destructive than a war of cannon. Both as a partisan of agriculture and as a noble he was opposed to the “ moneyed interest.” “ Great fortunes in a State are like pike in a pond.” The man who lives on an income derived from funded- property is a self-indulgent drone, and the cause of most of the evils in society. The lower classes are, he says, the most truly productive, and should therefore be honoured. He tells us that he would always make way for:a water-carrier with a feeling of respect; yet his hatred of ;the bureaucratic government is almost as much due to his indignation that men of no birth should lord it over the country gentlemen as to a dislike of centralisation, which had led him six years before to write a tract in favour of local self-government.

Struck no doubt by the similarity of their views and anxious to gain a proselyte whose reputation with the public would be useful to the cause, Quesnay asked Mirabeau to visit him, told him that Cantillon was an ass, initiated him into the true economic doctrine, and gained a devoted disciple. Quesnay, the “ Confucius of Europe,” as his followers called him, was the physician of Madame de Pompadour; and it was in his lodgings under her apartments that his meeting with the Marquis took place, from which the existence of the Physiocrats, as an organised and actively proselytising sect, may be dated (July, 1757). No doubt Quesnay had already thought out his system; and many of his opinions were shared by his friend Goumay (1712-59), a member of the Bureau du Commerce and a student and translator of the English economists, who had induced his official superior Trudaine to accept the maxim, “ Laisser faire et laisser passer,” which he is said to have been the first to formulate as the true principle of practical political economy.

Before his alliance with Mirabeau, Quesnay had only written articles in the Encyclopedie; one (Fermkr), in which he ascribed the poverty of the cultivators and the decay of industry to the misery and oppression which drove the peasants into the towns, to the sirbitrary and unjust taxation, and to the restrictions on the com trade ; and another (Grains), in which he pointed out that the natural advantages of France ought to be turned to account by concentrating labour and capital on the land, the produce of which should be exchanged for foreign luxuries, a reversal of Colbert’s policy. In 1758 his Tableau dtconomique was printed at Versailles at the royal press, and it is said under the King’s personal supervision, for Louis XV had as warm a regard as his selfish insensibility

The doctrine of Quemay.

23

allowed for the vivacious monkey-like little man with the face, according to his admirers, of Socrates. It is not likely that the King suspected any danger to his government from that enigmatical table, or took the trouble to listen to the explanations of his “ thinker,” as he called the author. Two years later the Economic Table was reprinted, with eluci­dations scarcely less obscure, by the Marquis de Mirabeau, together with essays by the same hand, one of which pointed out the evils of the corvee. Henceforth the restless Marquis became the leader of a band of disciples who preached with eager conviction the doctrine of the net product and of the impot unique. Next to the “ Friend of Humanity,” the most able and popular of the “Economists” as they called them­selves—the name of Physiocrats was given long after by T. B. Say— were Mercier de la Riviere (1720-94), an official and at one time governor of Martinique, whose book, The Natural and Essential Order of Political Societies, published in 1767, contains the clearest and most connected account of the doctrine of the school; and Dupont of Nemours (1739-1817), who wrote a book in 1763 entitled Reflexions on the Riches of the Nation, and served the cause with an indefatigable pen in the Journal de VAgriculture et du Commerce (1763-66) and in the &phemerides des Citoyens (1766-72).

The Marquis de Mirabeau was of opinion that the three great inventions “ which have given stability to political society ” are writing, money, and the Tableau jtconormque. Fortunately it is possible to give a sketch sufficient for our purpose of the doctrine of Quesnay, without attempting to explain this most crabbed document, the main object of which is to show that the national capital can only be increased by returning a greater share of the “net produce” of the country to “productive expenditure,” i.e., to the support of agriculture, and that one tax upon the net returns of the land ought to be substituted for the jxisting complicated, unjust, and extravagant fiscal system. Rulers and subjects alike must obey the self-evident laws of nature. These “ natural laws,” which mankind ought to observe, are the expression of the con­ditions under which man, in the social state “natural” to him, will secure the maximum of well-being. The system might equally well have been christened “ theocratic,” since it is represented as a recognition of and obedience to the laws of nature, which are also those of God—the Physiocrats were convinced deists. These laws are an infallible guide. We can deduce from them the whole science of human life. God intends the good of man, whose universal motive is desire of happiness; and these are the rules on the observance of which it is “evident” that his happiness depends. Once understood they must command the assent of all men as infallibly as mathematical truth; so that all restriction of individual freedom is both unnecessary and injurious, and the function of government is reduced to a minimum. Indeed government would appear unnecessary, were it not that some education is needed to enable men to recognise the

cogency of nature’s laws, and were it not that in every society there are some brutes not under the control of reason. The province of govern­ment should therefore be confined to that of policeman to coerce these brutes, and of schoolmaster to render their number as small as possible. The establishment of a uniform, national, and compulsory system of education was one of the practical reforms most insisted upon by the Economists.

We are not concerned with Quesnay’s erroneous idea, that labour and capital can only produce new wealth, or value, when employed on the land, nor with his curious theory that all taxation ultimately falls upon the owners of the soil; but there can be little doubt that the notion of substituting one single direct tax, levied on all landowners alike, for the existing cumbrous and unjust system of taxation, was singularly attractive, and led many to profess themselves the admirers of doctrines they only half understood. The criticism by the economists of existing institutions fostered the prevailing discontent; and change was made to appear easy by their optimistic confidence that reform was not difficult, that little more was needed than to destroy mischievous restrictions on natural liberty, and to formulate clearly the natural and necessary laws of society.

“ The more I ponder over the abuses of society,” wrote the Marquis de Mirabeau, “and the remedies suggested, the more convinced I am, that it needs only that twelve principles expressed in twelve lines should be firmly fixed in the head of the Prince or of his minister and carried out in detail, to set everything right, and to renew the age of Solomon.” The Economists did no service to their country in thus encouraging the belief that it was as easy to build as to pull down, and that men in general were reasonable. In some ways like Rousseau, they represent the reaction against the logical development of the “ philosophism ” of their century. The Friend of Humanity boasts that that “ odious philosophism” was never allowed to penetrate into their periodicals. Mercier de la Riviere insists that the study of the natural order of society leads man back to God, and enables him to recognise more and more His wisdom and beneficence exemplified in the laws He has given to mankind. “Helvetius,” said Turgot, “seems to be constantly labouring to prove that it is not to our interest to be honourable men.” The Physiocrats maintained that enlightened self-interest teaches us that not honesty only but “ virtue ” is the best policy. Not a few men either in the service of the government or closely connected with it more or less accepted the creed of the sect, among others Goumay, Trudaine de Montigny, Malesherbes, Bertin, the Cardinal de Boisgelin, and Turgot. Quesnay himself had the ear of the King and the support of Mariams de Pompadour. The teaching of the Economists had therefore a direct influence on the measures of the central government and carried still further the reaction against Colbertism, which had led Machault, the

Turgot.

25

one able Finance minister under Louis XV, to reply, when he was told that trade and manufactures were perishing, “ so much the better, there will be the more labour to employ on the land.” Yet more did it influence the spirit of the provincial administration; for Turgot, although his reforms in the Limousin were the most systematic, the most successful, and the best known, was not the only reforming Intendant.

The restrictions on the com trade were abrogated in 1764. Unfortu­nately bad harvests in three successive years brought free trade and economic theory into disrepute; for dear food was a more effective argument than the ridicule of Voltaire, or Galiani’s most lively and acute criticisms in his Dialogues on the Com Trade (1769). The com taxes were accordingly reimposed by Terray in 1770, to be again removed by Turgot on his accession to power in 1774. Once more the seasons took the side of protection; and the unavoidable rise in the price of food was utilised to the utmost by the enemies of the minister to decry his policy—by no one with more reckless appeals to popular passion and prejudice than by Necker, in his book on The Corn Laws and the Com Trade, a production hailed by Diderot as a work of genius. When Turgot was driven from office (1776), free trade in com was abandoned, together with those other reforms which were in strict accordance with the principles of the Economists: the abolition of the corvie, and of the close companies and trading corporations, the organisation of local self­government by representative councils of landowners, and the attempt to mitigate the iniquities of the oppressive fiscal system; reforms which Turgot had assured the King would, if completed by a national system of education, make the French in a few years a new people and the first in Europe. Talents, virtue and disinterestedness, honour and zeal, would take the place of corruption, timidity, intrigue, and greed. Such words in the mouth of a man like Turgot are a remarkable instance of the prevalence of that blind confidence in the perfectibility of the people, provided a few reforms are carried out, which proved so dangerous a delusion.

The more advanced philosophers had no sympathy with the Physio­crats. But Voltaire, whose dislike of everything pedantic and obscure led him to ridicule Quesnay’s abstruse dogmatism, had eagerly welcomed the ministry of the greatest and the most practical of the school. There may have been some affectation in the emotion he showed when he met Turgot during his triumphal visit to Paris in 1778; but the words he wrote on hearing of the great, minister’s fall ring true: “ I have nothing but death to look forward to, since M. Turgot is out of office. The thunderbolt has blasted my brain and my heart.”

It ceased to be fashionable among those who would be thought enlightened to profess the principles of the Economists; yet the impulse given by them continued to some extent to influence the administration. More favour was shown to agriculture. Enclosures were encouraged, to

26

Destructive philosophy.

the detriment of the poorer cultivators; and the English negotiators.of Pitt’s commercial treaty were surprised by the wish of the French Foreign Office to promote free trade between the two countries. “The most liberal system was what they desired.” Even in 1789 not a few of the cahiers ask for the “impot unique" the single tax on landed revenue.

It has been often remarked that before the middle of the eighteenth century the attack of the philosophers was directed against the Church, while from that time down to the outbreak of the Revolution political and social arrangements were chiefly criticised. This is not to be accepted without some explanation. We have seen that from the beginning of the century onward there was among the enlightened a very real interest in political questions and a desire for practical reforms, and that those who say that the Church alone was assailed are thinking too exclusively of Voltaire. But while the earlier generation, men like d’Argenson and Montesquieu, would have been content to build on the old foundations, Rousseau and his followers, as well as the Socialists, such as Morelly and Mably, aspired to construct the State of the future on a wholly ideal basis, and more or less believed themselves to be sketching a Utopia. The philosophers in the narrow sense—the men of the Encyclopedic as they are sometimes called—men such as Diderot, d’Alembert, Helvetius, or Holbach, had hardly any positive political creed. Their teaching was destructive and negative. What they did was to substitute reason for the seemingly intuitive dictates of conscience; reason, which at the critical moment is likely to become the advocate of passion and selfish­ness, if the premisses of these men are accepted, that the end of all our actions is our own private happiness, and that they are good or bad only so far as they do or do not conduce to that end. To “ return to nature” meant with them to throw off all moral restraint; as if, Rousseau pointed out, our conscience was not as much a part of our nature as our senses.

The practical outcome of their doctrines can nowhere be more clearly traced than in the purple patches with which Diderot embellished and enlivened the Abbe Raynal’s otherwise meritorious and tedious Philo­sophical and Political History of the Indies (published 1774). We are told in these diatribes that the unhappiness of civilised man is caused by the absurd laws which constantly violate those of nature; that the groans of the oppressed are stifled in a prison or on the scaffold; and that if anyone should attempt to vindicate the Rights of Man he would perish in infamy. The sole employment of Princes, when not engaged in unjust wars, is to forge heavier chains for their wretched subjects and to make their slavery more grievous. Everywhere • the peaceful citizen is the prey of the lawyer, the publican, and the brutal soldier. In the country the labourer is the victim of a pitiless landlord, who robs him of the hay on which his weary limbs seek a few hours’

Rousseau.—-The Sentimental School.

27

respite. If he owns a few acres the lord of the manor is there waiting to reap where he has not sown; if he has oxen or horses they are taken for the corvie; when nothing but his person remains, he is torn from his family to serve in the militia. In the towns the workpeople are exploited by idle and avaricious employers. As for religion, it is the invention of hypocritical and infidel priests, who have made the idea of a supreme being destructive of all morality. How much wiser are the Japanese Shintos ! They teach the people that “the innocent pleasures of man are pleasing to the Deity”; and girls are attached to the temples to be a source of honest profit by “ piously yielding to the most sacred impulse of nature.” Such is the kind of writing that Raynal thought might be indulged in with a light heart. It is well known how bitterly he repented when he discovered that this was not quite the case.

Voltaire had too much sense to be the slave of logic. He refused to accept the extreme consequences of his own principles. He lamented and refuted the atheistic doctrines of his friends. But, for all that, he and they were of the same sect, a sect of which the doctrine was negative, and the practical aim of which was destruction. Some wished to destroy a little more, others a little less, but all rather for the con­venience of freer movement in more liberal space, than from any wish to find room for a new construction. Not so the men of whom we have next to speak.

Man cannot live on reason alone; and no tyranny is more certain to provoke revolt than that of logic. Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-78) in asserting the claims of sentiment did but give expression to a widely felt feeling. D’Argenson, in the previous generation, lamented that that fine quality sensibility would soon be lost. Love and the need of loving were disappearing from earth. But afterwards he recognises in himself Pamela as well as Cato; a mixture of Richardson and Plutarch, the very formula of Rousseauism. Painters and poets, exclaimed Diderot, all who have either taste or feeling, read Richardson day and night. The Marquis de Mirabeau would like to make Grandison his model, and says that we should carefully cultivate feeling. When Diderot, meeting Grimm after a fortnight’s separation, wept on his waistcoat and sobbed out at intervals during dinner, “ My friend! my dear friend!,” or when the Due de Nivemais on his way to London visited the tomb of the Black Prince, and remembering his virtues burst into tears, they were but following a fashion already prevalent before the gospel of emotion, the Nouvelle itloise, was printed. Rousseau insisted, almost in the spirit of Montaigne or Pascal, on the fallibility of our intellect, the deceitfulness of our senses. But, he concludes, if reason crushes and abases man, an inner sentiment exalts him; we hear a voice which forbids us to despise ourselves. Writing in 1766 Horace Walpole says, “You must not conclude the people of quality atheists, at least not the men.

28

Rousseau’s sympathy with the people.

Happily for them, poor souls, they are not capable of going so far into thinking. They assent to a great deal because it is the fashion, and because they don’t know how to contradict.” If it is an explanation of the popularity of Voltaire that he said what most were thinking, then we may say that Rousseau was popular because he gave the most perfect expression to what others were feel’^- g.

Another cause of his influence was his real sympathy with the people. One of the first questions a political theorist must decide is whether he would have society framed so as to secure the highest culture, the noblest activity for the few, disregarding the many, or whether, sacrificing the ideal life of the few, he should try to raise the many to a decent standard of culture and physical well-being. The former was the choice of Voltaire, the guest and correspondent of princes, the moneyed man fond of luxurious leisure, the devotee of art, as he understood it, and of literature. It could not be the choice of Rousseau. He belonged himself to the people, he had mixed with them during his happier and earlier years, and had sympathised with their joys and sufferings. He had met among them with that kindness which he was perversely deter­mined not to recognise when shown to him by the cultured and wealthy. Purity, justice, humanity, are according to him only to be found in cottages. His political ideal was a government for the people by the people. The iZmile has been called a paedagogical romance; it shows how a boy of the upper classes may be so trained as to share in popular virtue, but for that reason the education is essentially popular and capable of wide application. Joseph Chenier was not altogether wrong when he said that public education should conform to it, nor the Committee of Public Instruction when they attempted to carry it into practice, l^mile is to be taught reading, writing, and arithmetic, singing and drawing, national history orally by narrative, the principles of natural (undenominational) religion. Practical information is to be imparted by object lessons; and careful attention is to be given to physical and technical training. Might not this be a modem programme of primary instruction ? It is a system which would tend to produce useful citizens rather than to train a few superior intellects to accomplish, or even fully to appreciate, great achievements in literature, science, and art.

The admirers and opponents of Rousseau have often done him injustice by confounding with his later doctrines the views crudely put forth in the Discourse on the Origin of Inequality (1753), and by trying to crush into one homogeneous and logical system statements and views really irreconcilable. His very inconsistencies show that he took a more comprehensive view of the problems with which he dealt, than his deductive method, and the abstract and arbitrary assumptions which form his premisses, would lead us to expect. But to his followers in the next generation one text of the master was as authoritative as another; and they naturally cited those which flattered the passions or justified

the policy of the moment; so that in the Jacobin Club and the Convention a paradoxical and unsuccessful prize essay was more heard of and had more influence than the philosophical Social Contract (1760), the moderate Letters from the Mountain (1764), or the generally sensible Considerations on the Government of Poland (1772).

It is only in the Discourse on Inequality that the state of nature is exalted as a golden age, from which civil society based on a compact obtained by fraud to perpetuate injustice has degenerated. In the Social Contract we are told that the civil is preferable to the natural condition, since in it duty takes the place of physical impulse, right of appetite, property of possession; that we ought to bless the moment of the contract which changed a stupid animal of limited capacity into a rational being and a man. Rousseau tells us that his object is to enquire whether there is or can be in politics any sure and legitimate rule of administration, taking men as they exist and laws such as are possible. But this purpose is soon forgotten; what is really discussed is the abstract and universal basis of political right; and men are taken not as they are, but as abstract beings out of all conditions of time, place, and circumstance. He begins by asking a question, Why is it that man who is bom free is everywhere enslaved? And his answer implies that all existing governments are illegitimate; that there is but one govern­ment by natural (divine) right, the rule of the popular majority. For nature, he says, gives to no man authority over his equals. Force cannot* as Hobbes and Spinoza suppose, be the origin of right. For if so a stronger might would be a better right, and therefore all right fluid and uncertain.

When men reached a point at which cooperation was necessary for their welfare, the problem which they were called upon to solve was to find a form of association capable of protecting the person and the goods of each with the whole strength of the community, while each individual should remain as free as when in a state of nature. If the body politic which results from the social pact does not protect person or property, or unnecessarily interferes with personal freedom, the contract is violated and annulled. This would seem a strict limitation of the power of society, a bold assertion of the rights of the individual. Helvetius had written that everything is well done which is done for the public safety. The public safety, answered Rousseau, is nothing unless all individuals, enjoy security. He denies the assertion of Grotius that a people could alienate their liberty; so one-sided a contract would be void ab initio. What consideration would compensate a man for the surrender of all the attributes of humanity ? Such a bargain would be contrary to law and reason. The right of society to claim obedience from the individual depends upon that obedience being indispensable, in order to enable society to perform the functions for which it was instituted. But no criterion is given by which we can judge whether the obedience is.

30

The General Will.

or is not necessary. To supply some rule determining at what point resistance to the authority of the sovereign begins to be legitimate, was no doubt one of the motives which actuated the framers of the Declara­tion of Rights. Rousseau himself says that the sovereign must judge what sacrifices the State may demand as necessary. But if so what remains of the rights of the individual ? Moreover, he gave to his Social Contract a form which implies popular absolutism, the complete surrender by each member of himself and of all his rights to the community, that alienation of all individual liberty against which he elsewhere protests.

He excuses the inconsistency by pointing out that in the only legitimate State every individual is a member of the sovereign body. Everyone is at once subject and sovereign; and, if he is oppressed by the sovereign, it is by himself. He has moral liberty, for the law which he obeys is self-imposed. Besides, it is irrational to suppose that the sovereign—the aggregate body of citizens, which can have no interests other than those of the individuals of whom it is composed—will be tempted to act oppressively like a magistrate who is swayed by anti­social impulses and private interests. Rousseau makes two erroneous assumptions that the interests of the part are always identical with those of the whole, and that the popular majority is always able to discern and willing to pursue the general interest. In his article itconomie in the Encyclopedie he asserts axiomatically that the State is a moral being capable of volition; that the golden rule of every legitimate,

i.e. popular, government is to carry out the general will, which always tends to the well-being of the whole and of each part and is always just— for the voice of the people is in truth the voice of God. It is unnecessary to point out the vast influence and the abuse of these principles in subse­quent years; nor is it easy to read without a shudder, when remembering the crimes perpetrated in the name of popular justice, the commendation of a custom, attributed to the Chinese, of throwing into prison any official accused by popular clamour, “which is never raised without good reason.”

That the only legitimate constitution is that in which the will of the sovereign people, or rather of the sovereign majority of free and equal citizens, prevails; that this will is always just, and that therefore a citizen is only virtuous so long as his will conforms to it; that the masses are always wiser and better than the few—these were principles easy to understand and likely to win popular acceptance. Little rhetoric is required to convince men that they are as good and as wise as their neighbours, and that authority not exercised by themselves is an abuse. The limitations and corrections suggested by Rousseau were forgotten or rejected. Although the people cannot delegate their sovereignty to the executive, he lays down the rule that the more numerous a people is the more powerful and vigorous ought the government to be, the larger the powers entrusted to it. If the State is small the executive

may be numerous and weak; if large, the government should be entrusted to a few, and they ought to have a wide discretion—a truth ignored by the authors of the Constitution of 1791, though perhaps not forgotten by those who placed power in the hands of the Committee of Public Safety. Rousseau moreover expressly says that to be fit for political <ociety men must already possess the social virtues; that the social disposition, which it is the object of the State to create, must already be there in order that the State may be formed. “ Before the laws exist men must already be what the laws are to make them.’’ To escape from this vicious circle he relies on the lawgiver, Lycurgus or Calvin, and on the sanctions of religion, an admission fatal to the historical reality of his Social Contract. Still less are all nations fit for liberty. If a people is to be free it must be mature—nor can it if once enslaved be made free. It is possible to acquire liberty; but once lost it cannot be recovered.

His ideal State was Sparta or republican Rome, as he conceived them to have existed, or rather a more perfect Geneva. “ After full consideration,” he says, “ I have given the preference to the constitution of my own country”; but he did not believe that it could be copied except by a community with a small territory and limited population, least of all by France. “ How great would be the danger of disturbing the vast masses which compose the French monarchy ! Who could arrest the impulse once given or guard against the possible consequences ? Even if the advantages of the new arrangement were indisputable, what man of sense would venture suddenly to abolish old customs, to change old maxims, and to alter that shape which an existence of thirteen hundred years has gradually given to the State ? ” Rousseau, therefore, would have been far more cautious, than the Physiocrats in the practical application of his abstract doctrine. It would indeed be easy to cite many passages of sound practical sense, many luminous suggestions which would surprise those who only know Rousseau as “the great professor and founder of the philosophy of vanity,” whose writings were the Jacobin “ Canon of holy writ.”

No attention was paid to him when he spoke words of soberness and wisdom, based on experience and common sense. Such remarks might be admirable; but there was little in them that was original, nothing that expressed the feelings and flattered the passions of the moment; and it must be confessed that they were out of harmony with the logical consequences of his abstract and universal principles. They were brushed aside by his revolutionary followers; and they have had no such effect on European politics as the clear and precise dogmas of natural equality and freedom, of inalienable popular sovereignty, and their corollaries: that every government not based on popular consent is a usurpation: that the people can at any moment dismiss their rulers: that—-the nation being an aggregate of equal and independent units,

whose will can only be discovered by counting heads—if owing to the size of a country a representative body is necessary, this assembly must represent not classes or interests but individuals. Whence it follows that manhood suffrage, equal electoral districts, a chamber of delegates, who may not pass measures which have not been submitted to the electorate, and the other characteristics of the modem democratic State, are institu­tions based on natural right; while that which was at one time- the ideal of English Liberals, a polity based on the representation of organised bodies, classes, and interests by deputies entrusted with a wide discretion and constituting a real legislature, is not more legitimate than monarchy itself.

It has been said with some plausibility that the Constituent Assembly was Voltairian, while Robespierre and his followers in the Convention attempted to carry out in letter as well as in spirit the precepts of Rousseau not less in their religious than in their secular policy. The decree of 18 Floreal, affirming the belief of the French nation in the existence of the Supreme Being and in the Immortality of the Soul, accepted “ the profession of faith of the Savoyard Vicar ” as the estab­lished religion, and as a minimum of faith to be imposed on all citizens. For scepticism—by which he meant the agnosticism of Montaigne, of Bayle, and of Voltaire—said Robespierre, is aristocratic, while the materialistic and systematised atheism of the Encyclopaedists is selfish and anti-social; and neither must be tolerated. Voltaire had attempted to assert the existence of a Supreme Being, and the possible immortality of that mysterious particle we call our soul, against Diderot and Hel­vetius. But his common sense and sceptical arguments, his appeals to the evidence of design in the universe, and to the absurdity of dogma­tising negatively when we know nothing, do not touch those complicated emotions on which religion depends. Not so the impassioned unction of Rousseau’s rhetoric. It may be sentimental, vague, not quite un­tainted by a strain of insincerity; but it affects and stimulates the feelings through the imagination, and was the source of that romantic religious revival which prepared the way for clerical reaction under the restored monarchy. This result would have probably surprised Rousseau, who derived the religion as well as the constitution of his ideal State from his native town, not foreseeing that the emotions excited by his eloquence would, like his Savoyard priest, find greater satisfaction in the splendour and the far-reaching associations of Roman faith and ritual, than in the colourless Socinianism of Geneva.

There are passages in Rousseau which imply that much is amiss in the existing distribution of wealth ; but nowhere does he suggest that it would be either possible or desirable to introduce Communism. Yet five years earlier than the Contrat Social a book was published, the Code de la Nature, in which communism is said to be the only organisation of

Morelly.—Mably.

33

society which can secure man’s happiness, and therefore the only one in accordance with the will of his beneficent Creator. So little was Morelly, the writer, known that La Harpe, who refuted the Code de la Nature, attributed the authorship of the book to Diderot. But Morelly had already advanced the same views in a prose poem called The Basiliade, or the Moating Islands (1753), which described a communistic Utopia, and professed to be a translation “from the Indian.” The Code de la Nature was the most systematic exposition of Communistic Socialism which had as yet appeared, giving a logical coherence to ideas derived from Plato, More, Campanella, and even Montesquieu. Self-interest is the universal motive, and when misdirected the source of all evil. Nature intended all things to be held in common, so that the interests of all should be identical. Each man pursuing his own interest would further that of the community, were it not that private ownership leads men to pursue discordant aims, injurious to each other and to society. Besides it is unnatural for men to seek to injure each other. There is in man “a certain native probity” which has been destroyed by avarice, “the desire of possessing,” the root of all vice. Morelly sketches the social order which would enable men to be as happy and as virtuous as is possible in this life, although as things now are he has no hope that it can be established. Although his book was not unread and had the usual advertisement of being burnt by the hangman, Morelly acquired so little fame that even the dates of his birth and death are unknown.

The voluminous writings of Mably (1709-85), the brother of Condillac, who shared some of Morelly’s communistic opinions, are more celebrated, and had an authority with the legislators of the Revolution second only to that of Rousseau and Montesquieu. The most important; of Mably’s books were the Conversations of Phocion on the Relation of Ethics and Polities (1763), Observations on the History of France (1765), Doubts on the Natural Order of Societies (1768). Mably believes the individual ownership of land to be the source of all mischief. It causes inequality of wealth, of which the result is avarice, ambition, sensuality, indolence, and insolence among the rich, hatred and envy among the poor, and in the commonwealth misery, restlessness, and ruin. Refohn is impossible except by some revolution which shall destroy all institu­tions unfavourable to equality, and bring about a complete change of manners and fashions. For it is not enough that the laws should aim at keeping all citizens at the same level of wealth and dignity. Nil leges due moribus.

It is difficult to say how far Mably held any part of his ideal to be capable of practical application in his own time and country. Some buildings are, he says, too crazy to bear repair, some cesspools so foul that to stir them is to breed a pestilence. And he applauds Fleury, “ the wisest minister of the century,” for not attempting reforms, since it is a mistake to court failure. Yet in his Observations on the History

34

Communism and the Jacobins.

of France, collecting whatever traces he can find of free institutions, he makes an attempt to find in the past that old constitution which Burke would have had the French rebuild. The French ought to attack the evil at its root—-the despotic power of the Crown. The Parlemervt in 1756 ought to have established the principle that the nation alone has the right to tax itself. The Court would have been cowed by a general cry of approbation. No doubt such an opportunity will recur. He considers that the English are not sufficiently on their guard against despotism. The King should be powerless to do wrong. He should have no control over the army, still less be able to summon, prorogue, and dissolve the legislature at his pleasure, and to corrupt its members with titles and honours.      '       •

These and other practical precepts had a direct effect and were quoted in the debates of the revolutionary assemblies. But Mably’s com­munism and that of Morelly, associated as it was in their writings with other tenets which formed part of the Jacobin creed_; tended to discredit that creed in the eyes of the cautious; although communistic theories were repudiated by the vast majority of even the most radical reformers. Mallet du Pan accused the Jacobins of intending an agrarian law; Gouverneur Morris believed that they aimed at establishing Communism. But, although they knew the rich to be their enemies and the poor their supporters, the Jacobins were not so mad as to think of touching private property, and thereby converting the timid disapprobation of the middle classes into active enmity. “ Souls of mud,” said Robespierre, “ who value nothing but gold, I do not wish to touch your treasures.” He was convinced that under existing conditions it would be not less difficult to establish equality of wealth than Communism itself, which was con­fessedly chimerical. The sanctity of property was in principle as much respected by the Republic as by the old monarchy. The property of the emigres, t is true, was confiscated, but so had been that of the Protestants; while the requisitions and other arbitrary measures of the Terror were no more due to communistic principles than the seizure of stores and the destruction of houses ordered by the commander of a beleaguered fortress. Even the profound misery of 1795 and 1796 provided Babeuf with followers rather than with disciples.

The little practical effect at the end of the eighteenth century of doctrines which were to be of such vast importance in the nineteenth century is another proof of the small influence of theory, unless it happens to fall in with the sentiment of the moment or to promise a remedy for those evils which are either physically most unendurable or most incon­sistent with existing social and economic conditions. The Revolution was an attempt to apply in practice the principle of individual freedom: a negative principle, mainly valuable as an instrument to overthrow restrictions, which have lost their use and meaning and have become injurious. But it is remarkable that this negative principle was

embraced with the fervour of a religious faith. The great work done by the philosophers was the part they took in exciting this fervour; and it was because there is little that is original in their teaching that it was received with enthusiasm.

It is when an author is expressing feelings already in men’s minds, “ when he is thinking articulately that which those around him are thinking inarticulately,” that his influence is greatest. A writer, there­fore, who is essentially commonplace like Voltaire, is likely to have greater immediate influence on the fortunes of his country, though not on the future of mankind, than a Plato or an Aristotle. Even if we believe that the philosophers did not cause the Revolution, nor originate the ideas which determined the form it was to take, we must allow that they precipitated it by giving a definite shape to vague aspirations, by clearing away the obstacles which restrained the rapidly rising flood of discontent, by depriving those, whose interests and position made them the defenders of the old order, of all faith in the righteousness of their cause, and by inspiring the assailants with hope and enthusiasm.

CHAPTER II.

THE GOVERNMENT OF FRANCE.

In France the Crown had always been the symbol of national unity and power. During the period in which the nation under the skilful guidance of Richelieu and Mazarin achieved supremacy in Europe, the royal authority became absolute in France itself Louis XIV surpassed all contemporary despots in his sense of unbounded and irresponsible dominion. During his long reign the French Monarchy assumed its final form ; and his system of government, although directed by weaker hands, remained in force until the outbreak of the Revolution. Fervid as were the French in their loyalty, they were not willing to allow that they were the subjects of lawless caprice. They clung to the distinction formulated by Montesquieu between a despotism of which the principle is fear, and a monarchy of which the principle is honour. The clergy and the nobles were tenacious of such privileges as the sovereign had spared; the protests of the Parlements against certain exertions of prerogative were often received with applause; in some Provinces the Estates kept up some tradition of self-government; and since the States General, although never summoned, had never been suppressed, they might be regarded as an essential part of the French constitution. But such remnants and shadows of the medieval polity, while they might save the self-respect of the upper classes or even temper the exercise of power in particular cases, could not conceal the fact that one man was master of France.

Despotic rule over a great civilised community implies a concentration of business so enormous as to exceed the capacity of one man, however able. It is the officials who govern; and the administrative system is the real constitution. Thus it was in France. The true centre of power was not the King, but the Royal Council. On the eve of the Revolution this was a body of about forty members, comprising the Ministers of State and a much larger number of persons who held no portfolio. The ministerial dignity might attract men of any rank; and Ministers were often, though by no means always, nobles or prelates. The Chancellor, or Keeper of the Seals, was usually a lawyer, as he had grave duties to

The ministers.—The Council.

37

perform in legislation and in connexion with the Courts of Justice. The Royal Household, Foreign Affairs, War, and the Navy, each gave employment to a Secretary of State. But perhaps the most influential Minister was the Controller-General of the Finances, whose duties, at first correctly expressed by his des. jnation, were gradually enlarged until he became in fact Minister of Public Works, Minister of Commerce and Agriculture, and Minister of the Interior. The Controller-General, if, like Colbert or Turgot, he were a man of talent and energy equal to his task, might exercise the authority of a Premier. The title of Principal Minister rested with the sovereign to give or to withhold at pleasure. The Ministers took part in the general business of the Council; but, for the consideration of such weighty affairs as would in England be decided by the Cabinet, they, together with any other Councillors whom the King might select, met under the King’s presidency n different committees known as the Council of State, the Council of Despatches (Conseil des Depeches), the Royal Council of Finance and Commerce, and the Inner Committee of War.

The members of the Council other than Ministers were singly of far inferior consequence. Sprung as a rule from the upper middle class, they had entered the public service at an early age; they had worked their way up to posts of confidence and authority, such as that of Intendant; and they brought to the Council board the advantages of long experience and administrative dexterity. Their names were not familiar to the public; nor had they, unless possessed of extraordinary talent or influence, much prospect of becoming Ministers. But it would be a mistake to think that the ordinary Councillors were insignificant. In determining the general course of policy, in drafting new laws, in fixing the sum to be raised by taxation and the taxes to be imposed, the Ministers would necessarily have the largest share, and much would be settled in the ministerial committees. But there remained for the Council as a whole more work than it could perform. At every step in the progress of absolute monarchy and centralised administration the powers and the duties of the Council had been enlarged. The numerous officials of the Civil Service received their orders from the Council, reported to the Council, sought instructions from the Council in cases of difficulty, could be called to account for misconduct only with the sanction of the Council. The whole administration of a great kingdom, from the apportionment of the faille between the Provinces down to the repair of a parsonage, passed in endless review before the Council, which vainly strove to keep down the arrears of national and municipal business. Finally, it exercised a judicial power practically without limit, since it could at pleasure quash the decree of any ordinary Court and remove a cause into its own hearing.

From the central authority we naturally turn to consider its local agents. In France, as in the other kingdoms which dated from the

Middle Ages, a number, of administrative systems had arisen and decayed; and all had left traces at least in forms and titles. As the royal domain had been enlarged in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries by the absorption of the great fiefs, France had been divided into baiMiages and senechaussees, administered by a royal officer, the bailli or the smechal, somewhat resembling the Anglo-Norman sheriff; but his powers had become obsolete long before the opening of the eighteenth century. At a later time the kingdom had been divided into a number of gouverne- ments, answering roughly to the historic Provinces. The Governors were the military representatives of the Crown; they were usually men of rank, and sometimes insubordinate. They had therefore been deprived of all real power, while keeping their ample emoluments; and in the age preceding the Revolution the office of Governor was merely a rich sinecure. At length Richelieu had placed the whole of France under a new class of royal officers, the Intendants. The jurisdiction of each Intendant was known as a generalite, so-called because in each there was a Chamber of fiscal officers known as generau.dc de finances. An Intendant was assisted by a number of subdelegates (subdelegucs), each of whom had a district known as an Slection, not because there was any question of popular choice, but from certain fiscal officers known as the elus. In those Provinces which had preserved their Estates and were therefore known as pays cFlttats, the elus did not exist and the term Slection was not in use.

The Intendant was to his district what the Controller-General was to the kingdom; he conducted the whole administration, and every kind of public business came under his care. The collection of the indirect taxes, indeed, belonged to the capitalists by whom it had been farmed; but the collection of the direct taxes fell to the Intendant. When the Council had fixed the sum total of the taille to be raised in the year and had divided it between the generalites, the Intendant apportioned the share of his gSneralite between the different parishes. The parish then fixed the quota of each inhabitant and was responsible for its payment. The Intendant fixed the quotas of each taxpayer in the vingtibnes and the capitation. The Intendant and his subdelegates carried out the balloting for the militia. For the maintenance of order the Intendant possessed the most ample powers. The rural police, the marechaussee, was immediately suhject to the central authority and therefore at his orders. Although the towns had a police of their own, municipal self­government was little more than a form, and the Intendant could dispose of this force also. Moreover the Intendant had a summary jurisdiction to repress disorder, and, when he sat with assessors who had received a legal education, could sentence even to death or to the galleys. Public works were also in the Intendant’s charge, although, in Provinces where the Estates still met, he was relieved of the greater part of this business. In.other Provinces the plan of public works was fixed by the Royal

Council; the execution was directed by the Intendant: and, where re­course was had to the corvte, it was exacted by his subdelegates.

Another function of the Intendant was the relief of the poor. A large proportion of the labouring class were so needy that in time of war or in bad seasons they became destitute; and, as the steady encroach­ment of the Crown had almost annulled the free action of the landed aristocracy and the municipal bodies, it had to take the chief part in relieving their distress. The Council allotted to each generalite its share of the royal bounty; the Intendant assigned the portion of each parish, and with the help of his subdelegates directed the administration in detail. Since the time of Colbert the government had tried to further industry and commerce by regulating, constraining, teaching, and re­warding ; and for all these ends it looked to the Intendant to execute its ordinances. The Intendant supervised with jealous care the action of every local authority. The style of Monseigneur, given not merely by peasants but by citizens to the Intendants despite the fact that they were generally not of noble birth, would alone show how ample was their right of control and how unsparingly it was exercised. “ I could never have believed,” Law said to d’Argenson, “ what I have seen while I had the charge of the finances. Know that this kingdom of France is governed by thirty Intendants.” Without noise or show the In­tendants before the Revolution had engrossed a power little inferior to that which the prefects of Napoleon afterwards exercised. The diversity of names and forms, even of usages and laws, in different parts of France, helped to conceal, but could not hinder, the uniform movement of the bureaucratic machine.

The all-pervading influence of the royal authority was not balanced by any general system of provincial self-government. Materials for such a system had once existed. It is well known that modem France was formed by a double process. Great fiefs, which had been all but inde­pendent, were resumed by the Crown; and territories belonging to various adjacent States had been annexed to the French monarchy. The lands thus united in a common subjection were in some cases separated by differences of blood, of language, and of civilisation; each had its own history and traditions ;^T each had its own peculiar usages; and in each the inhabitants had been bound together by a provincial patriotism, not wholly extinct even in the eighteenth century. But the later course of events had tended to- blur these distinctions, to centralise the life of France in the capital, to produce a common French type, and to weaken all that was either good or bad in provincial feeling. The Kings had instinctively furthered consolidation and had waged incessant war against provincial liberties. Most Provinces had anciently possessed Estates, medieval Parliaments of their own, which the Crown had very Generally allowed to drop. Only in Artois, Flanders, Burgundy, Britanny, and Languedoc* and some other territories too small to he

40    Decay of the provincial Estates.

worth naming, did the Estates continue to assemble. Only in Britanny and Languedoc did they retain any real power, and even there it was a restricted and peculiar power.

These Estates had no legislative function. Even the rules of pro­cedure which they adopted and the resolutions which they passed needed the confirmation of the Council. They could make grants to the Crown, but could not exclude its taxing power, while they could not raise a tax or a loan for provincial purposes without having its consent. They served chiefly to express the wishes of the Province to the sovereign, to execute a number of public works, and to collect a part of the royal revenue. Thus the provincial Estates were administrative bodies. Where they retained some vigour they secured to their respective Provinces an administration in many details milder and more reasonable than that which prevailed in other parts of France. Young remarked that the noble roads of Languedoc were made, not by forced labour, but by a tax which, however unfairly imposed, was a much lighter burden upon the peasants. In Languedoc, too, measures were taken to render the assessment of the taille more equitable and uniform. The finances of Languedoc were in a far sounder state than the finances of the kingdom. The provincial Estates had also the moral and political advantage of bringing together for the discussion of matters of public interest those classes which the insidious policy of the Crown had always endeavoured to disunite, and of giving some play to those energies which the servants of the Crown had always viewed with distrust. Yet the provincial Estates counted for little in France as a whole, and proved in the time of trial as frail as all other French institutions.

There were many reasons for their infirmity; but the chief reason was that the Crown and its servants for ages had done their utmost, not to improve and expand the provincial Estates, not to adapt them to the needs of a modem people and a high civilisation, but to get rid of them or, failing that, to reduce their power. Hence the Estates had disappeared in most Provinces. Hence, in the few where they survived, they remained medieval assemblies. For, widely as they differed in constitution, they were all more or less antiquated. In Languedoc the Third Estate had as many representatives as the clergy and the nobles; and all sat and voted together. But the deputies of the Third Estate were chosen by the municipal bodies of the towns which had no popular element. Even the nobles were not properly represented, since only the holders of certain lands were capable of sitting. In Britanny the com­position of the Estates was still more unreasonable. The Third Estate had only forty-two deputies, who represented, as in Languedoc, not the towns but their dose corporations. The First Estate contained no representatives of the inferior clergy. But ail the nobles of Britanny were entitled to attend in person; and the nobles present sometimes amounted to twelve hundred. It is true that each Order sat and voted

separately. But we cannot wonder that such an assembly should have laid unfair burdens on the lands of those who were not noble, or that it should have failed to gain popular support in its last struggles with the Crown. When we add that in the provincial Estates the peasants, the great bulk of the nation, were not represented at all, we shall understand how the National Assembly was able to discard them almost without a murmur from the Provinces.

It was one of the faults in the local administrative system of France before the Revolution that there existed no area of self-gbvemment intermediate between the Province, sometimes of enormous extent and containing as many as two million inhabitants, and the rural village or commune. The boundaries of the commune generally coincided with those of the manor or the parish, and had often been traced in remote antiquity, in Frankish or even in imperial times. Its constitution was in appearance at least popular. The supreme authority in the commune was the general assembly of the inhabitants, all persons liable to the taiUe having the right to attend. Thus, although domestic servants could take no part in the meeting, the day-labourer could. While bachelors were in many cases excluded, women seem to have been sometimes admitted. The villagers were summoned by the church bell and usually met in the open space before the church door. Ten inhabitants formed a quorum; but for certain purposes the presence of two-thirds of the parish or even a unanimous vote was required by law. The assembly had the management of the communal property, which was often valuable; for the common lands were extensive in France before the Revolution, and were vested in the community, not, as in England, in the lord of the manor. The assembly had also the duly of providing for the repair of the church and the parsonage and of the roads and bridges within the parish. It elected the communal officers, among whom the syndic and the collectors of the taille were the most considerable. Other duties such as that of fixing wages or prices were sometimes imposed upon it by the State. But it had little discretion in the exercise of its powers. The ignorance and incompetence of its members were often alleged as reasons for official control—and doubtless with some truth; for the seigneur, who had lost nearly all his authority in the parish, did not care to take part in the communal assembly as a simple citizen; and almost all the other householders were peasants, who, though not so utterly illiterate as is sometimes alleged, certainly were ill-educated and must often have been very torpid in mind.

Whatever the justification, the Intendant controlled every act of the commune. It needed his permission to assemble; the officers of its choice rtad to be confirmed by him, and the confirmation was often withheld; it could not buy or sell, let or hire property, or go to law without the sanction of the Council conveyed through the Intendant. De Tocqueville mentions a case where the parishioners who wanted to spend a sum little

42

The municipalities.

exceeding £1 had to obtain the leave of the supreme government. Thus to supervise the action of more than forty thousand communes was a task for which no industry could suffice; and the parochial business of Prance was always in arrear. The village syndics were sometimes twenty years behindhand with their accounts. The Royal Council was no less tardy. A commune, which had been demanding for some years past licence to cut its own timber for the repair of its own church, declared in 1721 that the ruinous state of the building left the congregation unsheltered to the storms. Four years later their petition had not yet been answered by the Grand Master of Waters and Forests. Delays and formalities made the simplest parochial undertaking costly* But, if the commune was to be pitied, the situation of its servants was still harder. The syndic was as much the agent of the Crown as of the commune, for he had to take part in the collection of taxes, the adjustment of the corvee, the levying of the militia, and the quartering of troops. His burthens were so heavy and his gains so small that the most respectable inhabitants were loth to be chosen, and it was sometimes necessary to force the office upon the person elected. The collector of the taille was strictly a servant of the Crown ; and his office, for reasons which have been stated elsewhere, was even more disliked than that of syndic. Such a communal self-govern­ment could avail little to bring different classes together or to call forth administrative talent. The Crown and its Ministers had preserved the communal system as an instrument which might be useful and could not be dangerous, but they forgot that even the humblest form of self­government must be made attractive before it can become efficient.

In the administration of cities and towns the abuses were different, but scarcely less serious. The history of municipal institutions in France: offers many resemblances to the history of such institutions in England and other neighbouring countries. Everywhere from the eleventh century onwards the growth of towns had led to a strenuous effort after municipal self-government. Each town had striven for itself and had gained privileges proportioned to its power. Each had its own charters and its own customs, for there was no general legislation on municipal affairs, and such resemblances as could be traced were due to individual imitation, the smaller towns trying as far as possible to gain the liberties already enjoyed by the greater. In France the Crown had fitfully encouraged the effort of the towns to free themselves from feudal shackles; but, when the feudal lords ceased to be dangerous, the Crown itself encroached on the rights of the towns, leaving them indeed the show of self-government, but taking away the substance. If we ignore the in­finite variety of forms and titles, we find the government of French towns in the eighteenth century vested in two bodies, the General Assembly, and the corps de mile, or Town Council. The General Assembly had once been numerous, including in some towns all the citizens; but it had become small, often not exceeding sixty or seventy persons. Some of

its members might be notables sitting in their own right. The majority were elected either by the professional corporations, especially of lawyers and public officials, or by the trade guilds, or by the parishes or quarters of the town. How many persons enjoyed the municipal franchise in any town would thus depend on a series of local and historical accidents; but it would appear that usually the greater part of the General Assembly was appointed by a small part of the townsfolk. In some towns the General Assembly filled up its vacancies by cooptation. This General Assembly discharged certain executive functions. It decided on the purchase or the sale of property, the contracting of a loan, the imposition of a tax, and other matters which varied from town to town. It also elected the Town Council, but its freedom of choice was often narrowed by the fact that certain corporations were entitled as of right to seats on that body. All the municipal business which was not despatched by the General Assembly fell to the Town Council.

So far what had happened in France was like what had happened in England. The municipal corporations had become narrow oligarchies, usually sluggish and often corrupt, in any case unequal to the tasks imposed by the growth of population and the progress of society. But, while the English corporations were left to themselves, the French corporations had felt the ceaseless interference of the Crown. This interference had sometimes been prompted by mere lack of money. Louis XIV had set the example of suppressing the election to municipal offices and making them purchasable. The towns which could afford to do so redeemed the right of election, as it was intended they should; and this shameful device was copied in after years, so that before the death of Louis XV many places had lost and regained the right of election seven times. In other cases interference had been prompted by the desire of the central authority to absorb all power, by the mere love of uniformity, or by the honest wish to make municipal administration more effective. The royal edicts of 1692, 1764, and 1765, had been prompted by all these motives. Thus the office of Mayor was intro­duced into the towns where it had not existed before; and all Mayors were to be appointed by the Crown. Nor was it only the municipal constitution which the government modified at pleasure. Its power was felt in the daily course of municipal business. The Intendant broke in upon the freedom of municipal elections; he applied stringent remedies to disorder in municipal finance; and he urged the towns to ambitious undertakings, such as the construction of new streets and squares, new quays and aqueducts. Like the communal authority, the municipal authority needed the sanction of the Council, conveyed through the Intendant, for all dealings with property and for all lawsuits. Projects for public works had to be approved by the Council; the designs were often furnished by the engineers of the Intendant’s staff, and contracts for their execution required the Intendant’s approval. In the pays

44

Effects of the bureaucracy.

d’Shction the ■ Intendant audited the municipal accounts, while in the pays diktats a commission of the provincial Estates took that duty. Considering the narrow and irresponsible character of the municipal corporations, this stringent control by the State had many advantages. The Intendant often gave an impulse to publid improvements and put a check on personal jobs. But it was not always in the common interest that he acted. Even his supervision did not prevent many instances of mismanagement and waste, while his domineering authority must have discouraged municipal patriotism and the exercise of'orfginal "talent.

Thus local self-government in France had dwindled to extreme weak­ness. The old names and forms disguised in some degree, but hardly restrained, the action of the central power. By degrees it fashioned the mind of the people Until bureaucracy seemed the only natural jystem of government. Popular discontent with the abuses of the system and zeal for new political theories led the Constituent Assembly to transfer the entire local administration from the servants of the Crown to the representatives of the Communes, Districts, and Departments. But this abrupt, unqualified change resulted in unutterable confusion, and when order returned the rule of expert officials returned also, and under the Consulate and the Empire became more absolute than it had ever been before. If we ask how the bureaucracy worked in the eighteenth century, it is not easy to give a just answer in few words. Compared with many other despotic governments which have been known among civilised men, the French monarchy might pass for wise and liberal. Far worse tyrannies have been known in Spain, in Italy, in Germany. The character of such a government depends largely on the character of the civil service; and the French civil service was above the average of the time. Many of its members were upright, intelligent, hard-working men; and a few, like Turgot, were men of exalted virtue and public spirit. We may say that, so far as there was change in the character of this class, it was a change for the better, even under Louis XV, and still more under Louis XVI. The humane and scientific spirit of the time was felt here as elsewhere. The development of the country by public works, the improvement of agriculture, the mitigation of the peasant’s hard lot, attracted much more thought than formerly. The material progress apparent between the close of the Seven Years’ War and the outbreak of the Revolution had many causes; but part of it was due to the spredd of enlightenment in the official class.

'Die vices of the system were, however, enormous. The all-pervading action of the State enervated private enterprise, voluntary association, and municipal energy. The bureaucrats had an instinctive jealousy of self-help in any class or in any district. They were clever and industrious, but they were naturally unable to do everything and unwilling to let others do what they had to leave undone. Thus the tendency to expect all improvement from the State rather than from the efforts of those

Arbitrary and capricious control.

45

interested was ingrained in the French people, with the result that all the evils which afflicted society were imputed to the government. Especially in bad seasons, when a large part of the people suffered from dearth, and the well-meant but foolish interference of the execu­tive with the transport and sale of com aggravated the distress, suffering broke out in riot or even petty rebellion. Again,-the bureaucracy in France, as in other countries, was slow and formal in its movements. Official reports and returns were numberless, correspondence accumu­lated, and the despatch of business, especially at the centre, fell into arrear. .The pernicious practice of creating offices merely to sell them had increased beyond belief the number of useless officials, and therewith the friction and delay of business.

Most Continental States are still governed by a bureaucracy, but its action is tempered by the representative system, and by some measure of press criticism. Neither of these mitigating influences existed in old France. Criticism of the government was at the peril of the critic. Some freedom was allowed, especially to fashionable writers, in discussing speculative questions; but direct censure of administrative acts was almost certain to be visited with punishment. Secrecy enveloped the business of the State. Even the condition of the finances was almost unknown to the public until Necker published his Compte Rendu au Roi. That knowledge which the modem citizen can find in a dozen works of reference was then the monopoly of persons engaged in the work of administration. As a result of the principle of secrecy the government was sometimes made accountable for crimes which it had not committed, and which no man in his senses would commit. The wildest fables about the wickedness of the Court and the tyranny of the Ministers would find credence with an ignorant, suspicious, and suffering people. The same secrecy favoured much oppression and corruption in detail. An incapable or malevolent official could gp on doing mischief for years with impunity. In the administration of a modern State unthrift and jobbery often mock at public censure. They must have been fax more prevalent where they were so difficult to detect and so perilous to denounce.

A still more grievous fault of the French administration was its arbitrary and capricious temper. Were we to fix on the most char­acteristic difference between the government of France and that of England in the eighteenth century, we might say that in England the letter of the law, however imperfect, was held sacred, while in France the good pleasure of the sovereign, or of his servants, overrode all statutory restriction. The rulers of France seem not to have understood the value of fixed principles or the danger of irregular exceptions. Thus the great benefit which the action of the Crown had undoubtedly rendered to France in unifying and consolidating the State, in harmonising local Usages, and curbing individual self-will, was half annulled by the new anomalies and disorders which the sovereign himself introduced. In a

46

Uncertainty of the law.

few luminous sentences de Tocqueville has'summed up his long study of this inveterate evil:

“The government seldom undertakes or soon abandons the most necessary reforms, which, in order to succeed, demand a persevering energy; but it incessantly changes particular regulations or particular laws. In the sphere which it inhabits nothing remains an instant in repose. New rules succeed one another with a rapidity so strange that the agents of the State by dint of being commanded often have trouble in making out how they are to obey. Municipal officers complain to the Controller General himself of the extreme variability of minor legislation. ‘ The variation of the financial regulations alone,’ they say, ‘ is such as not to allow a municipal officer, were he irremoveable, to do anything else save study the new regulations as they appear, even to the point of being forced to neglect his own business.’ ”

Laws so lightly made, we may be sure, often remained without execution; and their maker taught the public to hold them cheap by the multitude of exceptions and variations which he ordered or allowed. It was thus that, even when an equitable tax like the vingtiemes was imposed, influential persons and corporations found means to elude it, at least in part. It was thus that personal freedom was disregarded at the request of those who could command influence at Court. The immediate evil was great, the indirect evil was far greater; The highest service which any government can render to a people is to instil a sense of law. The old French monarchy left no moral stay of public order save a blind reverence for the Lord’s anointed. To quote de Tocqueville once more: “ People often complain that Frenchmen despise the law; alas! when could they have learnt to respect it? We may say that among the men of the ancien regime the place which the notion of law ought to occupy in the human mind was vacant. Every suitor demands a departure from the established rule in his favour with as much insistence as if he demanded its observance; and in fact the rule is hardly ever upheld against him, save when it is desired to evade his request.” The judicial as well sis the administrative system of France had grown up in the course of ages, had never been revised on broad principles, and had ended in singular confusion and waste of power. During the medieval period Courts had been multiplied by the same influences which were at work throughout feudal Europe. Every lord had the right and duty of holding a Court for his tenants. Every chartered town sought to gain the amplest jurisdiction over its own citizens and the stranger within its gates. The Church covered the land with a complete system of in­dependent Courts administering ecclesiastical law. Feudal, corporate, and ecclesiastical competition left little to be done by the royal justice. Duty and interest alike impelled the Kings of France to enlarge their jurisdiction; and to this end they found untiring auxiliaries in the legal profession, which became more and more powerful from the end of the

thirteenth century Onwards. By degrees the royal Courts overspread France and withdrew from the other secular Courts their most weighty business. But here, as in other fields, when the Crown had engrossed the substance of power, its reforming energy expired. Neither the desire for symmetry nor the consideration of the public good availed to bring about the final reform, the suppression of all Courts not emanating directly from the sovereign. The feudal and corporate Courts lingered on until the Revolution; and the nobles kept a remnant of jurisdiction long after they had been ousted from public life and stripped of political influence.

The ordinary royal Courts were of three degrees; the Parlements, the presidiaux, and the Courts of the bailliages and senechaussees. There were thirteen Parlements, all sovereign Courts as they were termed, Courts of the highest rank, from whose decision there was no appeal. Among these the most ancient, the most illustrious, and the most power­ful was the Parlement of Paris, sprung from the Curia Regis of the early Capetian Ki«gs, and in its organisation little changed since the fourteenth century. Its jurisdiction extended over a great part of the kingdom, and perhaps ten million human beings. The Parlements of Toulouse, Grenoble, Bordeaux, Dijon, Rouen, Aix, Rennes, Pau, Metz, Douai, Nancy, and Besan^on, copied faithfully its claims and its pre­tensions. For the Parlements deemed themselves more than merely judicial bodies. Their function of registering the royal edicts, which has been noticed in earlier volumes of this work, they construed to imply a right of criticising a new law before they registered it, and even of refus­ing to register it at all. Although they would hardly have put their wish in plain, direct terms, they aimed at nothing less than a veto on legislation and taxation. Moreover they assumed an indefinite power of making police regulations, even upon subjects so alien from the dispensa­tion of justice as the trade in com. The executive government in turn .respassed upon their sovereign jurisdiction; for the Royal Council often quashed the decrees of the Parlements and removed casus which they had tried into its own hearing It will be observed that until the Revolution there was no general Court of Appeal for the whole kingdom.

Next below the Parlements came the Courts known as presidiaux, instituted in 1551 by Henry II as tribunals of first instance in certain cases and as tribunals of appeal from the many inferior Courts, whether royal or feudal. They had the final decision in all civil cases where the value in dispute did not exceed 2000 livres tournois, and a decision subject to appeal where it did not exceed 4000. They also possessed a certain criminal jurisdiction. At the eve of the Revolution there were one hundred and two Courts of this class. In the third rank stood the Courts of the bailliages and the senechaussees. These administrative areas had been formed when the direct rule of the King succeeded the sway of great vassals, such as the Dukes of Normandy or the Counts of

48

Feudal jurisdiction.

Champagne. Although the bailU or the sinichal had now very little to do, his Court remained in use for petty causes, and received certain appeals from the feudal Courts. It was composed of the same persons as those who sat in the presidial; but a smaller number sufficed to give judgment. In all the royal Courts of justice a measure of independence was rendered possible by the fact that a seat on the bench was a re­cognised form of property. For the constant financial embarrassment of the Crown had induced Louis XII to make judicial office saleable, and Henry IV to make it hereditary subject to a slight annual payment. A judge had therefore a moral assurance that, so long as he observed the law, he would not forfeit his preferment. He was not a mere official who could be dismissed at pleasure and without the reprobation of the public. But the benefit incidental to the abuse was much impaired by the power of evoking causes from the ordinary tribunals to be heard by the Council, which power the Crown always asserted and often exercised, as well as by the number of extraordinary tribunals at its service and under its absolute control. Not only the Council and the Intendants, but many, other strictly administrative authorities, exercised an ample jurisdiction, civil, or criminal,! or both. Those Courts of Justice, which, like the Forest Courts of England, owed their origin to the sovereign’s possession of immense Crown lands, had been carefully preserved wherever they could serve to fortify the royal authority. When all existing tribunals seemed insufficient, the Crown had from time to time appointed commissioners with extraordinary powers and a summary procedure, to deal with corrupt financiers, heretics, smugglers, and other troublesome offenders. These commissions, expressively ' styled Chambres Ardentes, had become rare in the eighteenth century.

Feudal iurisdiction in France admitted of three degrees, high, middle, and low. The seigneur haut justkier originally had cognisance of all causes, civil and criminal. But the gravest criminal offences, such as treason, coining, homicide, and highway robbery, had been withdrawn from his Court under the name of cas royaux; and it had become the practice to hand over to the royal judges all culprits taken within the seigneur's jurisdiction. A great deal of the civil litigation had passed to the same authority. The seigneur, who had moyenne justice, exercised a criminal jurisdiction, which varied greatly in different provinces. His Court was not competent as a rule to pronounce sentence of death, and was often restricted to imposing fines of moderate amount. He had also a certain civil jurisdiction, and powers of police on the highways and of inspection of weights and measures. Basse justice comprised only petty cases, civil and criminal, and gave authority to impose no penalty beyond a small fine. All these three degrees of justice included, how­ever, the determination of questions rela ng to the seigneur's feudal rights, as against his tenants. The remains of feudal jurisdiction in the age of Louis XVI were therefore considerable. But the Crown in the

course of ages had fettered its exercise. Litigants enjoyed a very extensive right of appeal from the feudal to the royal Courts. The seigneur was compelled to exercise his jurisdiction through, a judge, who was required to be at least twenty-five years old, to be of good character, and to have given some proof of legal competence. The Crown had even taken steps to render the judge irremovable by the lord. Since, however, the judges of the feudal Courts were not highly paid, it was impossible to attract to them lawyers of the highest character or attainments. One man often acted as judge in several feudal Courts; and thus his place had to be taken by lieutenants so-called, usually country lawyers of humble standing.

The number of feudal Courts was prodigious. In the single pro­vince of Maine, neither very large nor very populous, there were on the eve of the Revolution at least one hundred and twenty-five. In the single city of Le Mans twenty-nine feudal Courts could be reckoned. In Angers there were sixteen. The parishionerc of Gueugnon in Burgundy declared in 1789 that fourteen seigneurs had jurisdiction within its bounds, and that litigants were perplexed to know who had power to settle their disputes. The cities and towns frequently had a jurisdiction of their own, and Courts distinct alike from the royal and the feudal. Such a multitude of tribunals should have ensured cheap and speedy justice. But the entanglement of jurisdictions and the possibility of successive appeals went far to annul this advantage. Much evidence which has been preserved points to a litigious temper in the Frenchmen of that time. Lawyers swarmed even in the poorest country districts. One small parish of the Nivemais contained in 1789 half-a-dozen procureurs and as many notaries.  ■

The multiplicity and confusion of tribunals corresponded to a multi­plicity and confusion of laws. France was unequally divided between the region of customary and the region of written law. In the south the written law, the Roman law of Justinian, or in some cases of the Theodosian Code, was in force, although modified by local usage or modem statute. In the centre and north of France, except Alsace, customary law, modified in turn by statute or by the influence of the Roman system, bore sway. But within the two regions there prevailed the utmost local variety. Writers of repute have reckoned in France on the eve of the Revolution at least three hundred and sixty distinct bodies of law, in force sometimes throughout a whole Province, some­times in a much smaller area. It is true that the differences between these were often few and slight, but they were enough to complicate the law and swell the bulk of legal literature. The mischief of such a multiplicity and confusion of laws had been acknowledged ever since the time of Louis XI; and in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the rules regarding certain subjects had been codified for the whole kingdom by royal ordinance. But the obstacles raised against a complete

50

Lettres de cachet.

codification by prejudice or interest could be overcome only by an energy such as the governments of Louis XV and Louis XVI never possessed. The criminal law was more uniform and simple- than the civil; but, like' the criminal law of the surrounding States, it was unreasonable and cruel. The punishment of death was- not more lavishly awarded than in the English law of that time ; but inhuman forms of it, such as breaking on the wheel,¹ were still in use for the worst offenders. The execution of Damiens in 1757, for attempting to murder Louis XV, displayed the same refinement of barbarity which had been seen at the execution of Ravaillac in ' 1610. The cruelty of the criminal law was enhanced by its inequality ; for the nobles were exempt from certain painful or degrading punishments inflicted on the commons. The inquisitorial ihacacter of criminal procedure, the secret examination of witnesses, and the use of torture to extract a confession, odious as they must be reckoned, were common to many Continental States. The withholding of counsel from persons accused of grave crime was an abuse to be found in England as well as in France.

No blemish of French law before the Revolution has been more often and more justly denounced than the lack of any guarantee for personal freedom. That any Frenchman might be deprived of his liberty by a lettre de cachet, an administrative order under the privy seal, is perhaps the most generally known fact regarding the old polity of France. A person thus arrested might remain in prison for an indefinite time, as there was no legal process by which he could enforce his release. Since the action of the government was secret, his friends might not know whither he had vanished, and he might even be ignorant of the cause of his arrest. Nay, if the record of his case were mislaid, even the Minister responsible for such prisoners might not know why he was detained. It is true that in the eighteenth century a great proportion of the persons .thus detained were domestic offenders, such as undutiful sons; for the lettre de cachet was an instrument of domestic discipline, and the philanthropic Marquis de Mirabeau took out many in the idle hope of subduing his unruly household. Again, most of the persons thus arrested underwent only a brief confinement, sometimes of weeks or days. Moreover, persons of respectable condition were the most frequent victims, and were often treated as mildly as was compatible with detain­ing them at all. The practice was none the less an abuse, lending itself to great injustice and cruelty. We may not absolutely credit some piquant stories as to the profusion with which lettres de cachet were issued under Louis XV, and we have reason to think that under Louis XVI they were issued with comparative forbearance; but in all matters of justice and police it may be fairly said that the despotic temper of the French monarchy thought far too much of enforcing submission and far too little of the rights of the citizen.

The military establishment of France before the Revolution was

The army.

51

based on. principles then common to all western Europe, although they have left hardly any trace in our time. Since the military improvements of the sixteenth century, discipline and' skill had been valuted more than numbers ; and discipline and skill were thought to need'lifelong practice. As the number ^rof recruits needed in any one year was not great, govern­ments shunned the trouble and unpopularity of forced enrolment, and enlisted men wherever they could find them, at home or abroad. The soldier’s lot being hard, the comfortable citizen, and even the prosperous artisan, was not likely to offer himself to the recruiting sergeant. The very poor, the thriftless, and the dissolute, were his natural prey; and to ensnare them he might use every means of deceit and debauchery. On the other hand the still powerful prejudice handed down from the age of chivalry, that arms are the true profession for a gentleman, disposed- the nobles of every land to accept commissions as officers, from their own sovereign if possible, but, failing that/from any other Christian sovereign with whom he was not at war; for, even so late as the out­break of the Revolution, the calling of a soldier of fortune was not thought dishonourable. It was therefore difficult for a man of the middle class to become an officer; and, as he would not willingly become a private soldier, the middle class in the eighteenth century remained almost entirely unwarlike. In 1789 the Frenchman of the middle class felt as keen a thrill of novelty when he donned the uniform of a National Guard as when a little earlier he had recorded his vote in the elections to the States General.

In the reign of Louis XVI France maintained about 170,000 regular troops, of whom perhaps one-sixth were foreigners, Swiss, Germans, Irish, Poles, Swedes, Danes, and Italians. Prussia, with about one-third of the population of France, maintained an equal number. The slow historic growth of the regular forces could still be traced in many irregularities of organisation; and favour and privilege had cumbered the army with many grotesque abuses. In order to satisfy the nobility the officers had been multiplied out of all proportion to the privates. At the beginning of the Revolution there were 966 generals and 1918 staff officers; that is to say, one general for every 157 privates and one staff officer for every 79. Those who had enough influence gained their commissions early and without labour. The Due de Choiseul raised an outcry by refusing to allow any more colonels of sixteen; and Marshal de Broglie declared all the officers from the sub-lieutenant to the lieutenant-general totally ignorant of their profession. The private was poorly paid, had no comforts, and could not rise above the rank of non-commissioned officer. Bad fare and hard usage made desertion common. In the Seven Years’ War the French army had tarnished its old renown, and France had yielded the first place among military States to Prussia. Yet that there was excellent stuff in the royal army was proved by the number, both of privates and of officers, who

52

The militia.—The clergy.

rose to fame in the wars of. the Republic and the Empire. Out of twenty-four Marshals of France created by Napoleon, eight had been officers and ten had been privates under Louis XVI; and Englishmen will remember the great achievements of their, own army at a time when it was open, though not in the same degree, to many of the reproaches brought against the old army of France. The French discipline was not so harsh as the Prussian, nor harsher than the English; and at least one English traveller in 1789 was impressed with the healthy and vigorous looks of the common soldier.

The army was supplemented by a militia of about sixty thousand men. As the term of service was for six years, the annual contingent required was ten thousand, raised by a sort of conscription. The burthen was not more than France could easily have borne had it been fairly distributed; but the privilege enjoyed by many places and classes doubled the pressure upon those who were not exempt. Thirty -nine different descriptions of persons were excused on one ground or another. The people , of the capital were not liable. As the militia service was thus rendered only by the poorest class of peasants, its hardships were not relieved by any honourable associations; and, as the militiamen were not well treated, the balloting was regarded with intense fear and dislike.

Since the form and operation of government always depend to a very great degree on the structure of society, this outline of the institutions of France may be rendered more intelligible by some notice of the classes into which the French people were divided. By taking account of the relative position and the coifli :ting interests of the clergy, the nobles, the bourgeoisie, and the peasants respectively, we may better understand the course which each of these orders took in the Revolution, and the character and effects of the Revolution itself.

Outwardly the clergy of France still held the position which had been theirs in the Middle Ages. They were the only authorised spiritual teachers; for, although the flame of intolerance was burning low, although the Protestants were but languidly persecuted, while in Alsace even the Jews were left in peace, the Catholic was the only religion known to the la,w, the Catholic, the only worship publicly allowed. A very great number of those employed in the education of youth were clergy or nuns; and sill other teachers were subject to clerical supervision. Politically the clergy were the first of the Three Estates, an order possessing valuable privileges, the only order which enjoyed even partial self-government. Lastly, the clergy were possessed of immense riches ; and it was vaguely asserted that they held one-fifth of the soil of France. Inwardly it is true the condition of the Church was less satisfactory. The zeal of the clergy had cooled, their discipline was relaxed, and a spirit of indi/eidnce, even of enmity to religion, had become widely spread. i ■ ¹

For want of accurate statistics the number of the French clergy at

this period has been variously estimated. It was supposed in 1762 that they then numbered 194,000. It is certain that they were dwindling through the greater part of the eighteenth century. Taine thought that under Louis XVI they numbered 130,000, not very unequally distributed between regulars and seculars, there being about 23,000 monks and friars and 37,000 nuns. In an age of indifference the regulars were most apt to diminish. Thus in Troyes there dwelt in 1695 three hundred and twenty nuns ; in 1774 there remained only ninety-one. In two spacious monasteries of the same city only ten monks were left. A royal edict of 1765 had ordained that, when the inmates of any religious House fell below nine, the House should be closed, the inmates transferred to another House, and the revenues carried to a fund available for certain religious or charitable purposes. Under this edict it is said that nearly four hundred Houses were closed, and that several of the less numerous Orders had vanished from the kingdom. Yet the cahiers of 1789 frequently refer to the existence of monasteries almost unpeopled. In the suppression of the Jesuits the government had taken a still bolder measure. Had no reaction inter­vened, the Orders of men would probably have shrunk to a few com­munities actively employed in education and charily. , The secular clergy were not subject to a like decrease. There are said to have been 38,000 parishes in France; and the parish priests and curates numbered about 60,000. All the remaining seculars may have amounted to 10,000.

The wealth of the Church, although it cannot now be accurately measured, was very great. A committee of the National Assembly estimated its revenues at 170,000,000 livres, and Gomel thinks that they may have amounted to 200,000,000 livres—about one-half of the revenue of the Crown at the accession of Louis XVI. Fully two-fifths of the whole were derived from tithes, the residue from landed estate. Arthur Young admits that the tithe was levied with comparative moderation. It was nowhere a tenth, usually a twelfth or fifteenth, sometimes no more than a twentieth, of the gross produce. In many places meadows, olive grounds, and cattle, were exempt; and a new kind of crop, such as potatoes or clover, did not pay anything until the law was altered in 1783. Nevertheless the exaction was odious to the thrifty peasants, who had so much to pay; and the claim to tithe was every­where most prolific of lawsuits. The tithepayer grumbled more because the bulk of the tithe went, not to the parish priest, but to distant Chapters or monasteries, which seldom remembered him in their bounty. The landed estates of the Church probably yielded more than

100,000,000 livres—no surprising return, if they really occupied one- fifth of the surface of France. It must be remembered that the great clerical domains were often ill-managed, and that religious Houses have often been indulgent landlords. The wealth of the clergy excited the

54    Revenues and government of the clergy.

more envy because it was privileged. The clergy were exempt from the taille, and had redeemed themselves very cheaply from the vmgtibnes and the capitation. The clergy did indeed every five years grant the Crown a subsidy, whose free and voluntary character was expressed in the term don gratuit, and in time of war they often'voted further sums; but these by no means balanced their exemptions. Even these sub­sidies they often raised by loans, afterwards repaid out of the dedmes, a light tax on clerical incomes. The distribution of ecclesiastical revenues was yet another scandal, for lucrative sinecures were even more plentiful in the Church than in the State; and those who did most work had as a rule the least reward. The one hundred and thirty-four Archbishops and Bishops of France were singularly unequal in their revenues; but their average income amounted perhaps to 60,000 livres, about £2500 of English money ; and their wealth was often .doubled by the rich abbacies which they were allowed to hold. In consequence of the diversion of the tithe from its proper object most of the parish priests were shamefully ill-paid. The State had been forced to interpose and enforce a minimum stipend, the portion congrue, fixed in 1768 at 500 livres and raised in 1786 to 700 livres. Here again there was no equality, for some cures, who received the whole of the tithes, were comfortable or even rich. The cahier of Brulon in Maine mentions cures enjoying an income of 10,000, 15,000, even 30,000 livres. The parish priest was entitled to fees for marriages, etc. (the casuel), and to certain dues, which the peasants frequently regarded as a grievance. The religious Houses varied in their condition from poverty to opulence.

The clergy enjoyed a real, though limited, power of self-government through their provincial and national assemblies. The national assembly of the Church of France met every five years on the King’s summons. Each of the sixteen provincial assemblies sent as its representatives two Bishops and two of the inferior clergy. The assembly upon meeting elected a President and then divided itself into bureaux, which chose commissaries to treat of business in detail. It. voted the don gratuit, and, in the spirit of an earlier time, joined to its gift petitions, which the sovereign received with respect and sometimes granted. Yet we must not overrate the liberties of the clergy; for, in things ecclesiastical as in things secular, the Crown had always been studious to enlarge its prerogative. The clerical assemblies might not promulgate any decree without the King’s previous knowledge and approval. No new religious House could be established without his sanction. Without the same sanction no lands could be acquired or alienated by the clergy. The Crown exercised a patronage so vast and valuable as to ensure clerical obedience. By the concordat of the year 1516 Francis I had agreed with Leo X that the King should have the right of nominating Bishops and Archbishops, subject to papal confirmation, and should also be entitled to fill up a great number of wealthy abbacies. Many inferior preferments

were in the King’s gift. He was thus able, not merely to control the clergy, but also to bind the nobility to himself by new ties of interest. For all the archbishoprics, all but five of the bishoprics, all the commendatory abbeys, the commanderies of the Knights of Malta, and the noble Chapters of men and women, were reserved for persons of gentle birth, who received in this way a large proportion of the enormous ecclesiastical revenue.

In judging the character of the French priesthood during the eighteenth century we must distinguish between the higher and the lower ranks, as well as between the regulars and the seculars. The superior clergy, taken in the gross, were courtiers and men of the world. Some notoriously disbelieved the religion which they were supposed to teach; and some were dissolute in their conduct. Yet the majority, even under Louis XV, observed outward decorum; and here and there was to be found a prelate of sterling piety and benevolence. Nor need it be denied that the pride of birth and the feeling of assured independence, together with the tradition of Gallican liberties, gave to the French prelates a certain breadth and firmness of mind, and. helped to save them from some failings which have been noted in their far more zealous successors. Professional talent and learning, it is true, were seldom found in this class, nor did any of them in the age preceding the Revolution gain glory by controversial or apologetic writings. They were silent or ineffective, while argument and wit and rhetoric were untiringly exerted against the characters of the clergy and the doctrines of Christianity. If an acute and vigorous intellect appeared among the French Bishops, he was too commonly a man of the stamp of Talleyrand, whom accident or influence had pushed into a splendid but incongruous position. No Bossuet, no Fenelon, shed the splendour of eloquence and imagination over the decline of the Gallican Church.

The inferior clergy offered a glaring contrast to their chiefs. Drawn mostly from a humble middle class, or even from the peasantry, since their office had so few worldly allurements, and condemned to poverty and a monotonous routine, they were rarely men of wide culture or polished manners; but they were usually regular and edifying in their lives. In spite of occasional scandals, such as will occur in every large body of professional men, the parish priests appear to have generally deserved and enjoyed the goodwill of their flocks. They felt for the people from whom they sprang and amid whom they laboured ; and they often entertained democratic opinions. They had indeed their own grievances, and they might be pardoned if they felt some bitterness in reflecting on what stamp of divine the richest preferments of the Church were so often lavished. Many of them regarded their Bishop as the common soldier regarded his noble colonel, and as the peasant regarded the lord of the manor. The abuses of the French system tended to alienate those whom both duty and interest should have drawn together;

56

The religious Orders.—Dissent.

and the privileged orders, a mere handful among discontented millions, were themselves rent into hostile factions. In the first stage of the Revolution the sympathy df the parish priests ensured the victory of the Third Estate over the nobles and the prelates.

The regular clergy of France in the eighteenth century presented the spectacle so often seen when ascetic enthusiasm has almost died out. The religious Houses were still very numerous, and some of them were very wealthy; but they rendered no proportionate service' to the com­munity. A few Benedictines were honourably distinguished by their zeal for learning ; and those Orders which busied themselves in works of charity or in teaching were kept healthy by employment. That large residue of men and women, who, having taken the vows, found themselves with no definite occupation, were at best useless and sometimes vicious. The religious Houses generally were liberal of their alms ; but indis­criminate Charity has everywhere made more beggars than it relieves. Religious Houses were often disliked by the peasants because they drew rent and tithes from parishes on which they conferred no benefit in return. They were incessantly denounced and ridiculed by men of letters and philosophers; they were regarded by many statesmen as a useless encumbrance on the national resources; they were so alien to the spirit of the time that they could not find a sufficient number of novices; and the monasteries, although not the convents, were slowly tending to extinction.

The eighteenth century in France, as in England, offered a contrast between tolerant public opinion and intolerant laws. The clergy re­tained enough of the old persecuting spirit to disgust the laity, but not enough to crush dissent. The government did not go so far as the clergy wished, and yet went far enough to share their unpopularity. Infinite bitterness was bred in the Church by the long and unmeaning warfare between the orthodox and the Jansenists. Protestants were still outlaws, denied a civil status, and so disabled from having an authentic record of births and marriages. If they assembled for divine worship, the congregation might be sent to the galleys and the pastor might be hanged. Under Louis XV the judicial murder of Calas showed that the spirit of St Bartholomew’s Day was not extinct; but such incidents were rare, and Louis XVI gave a lesson to Protestant Kings when he made Necker Minister of Finance. Now and then feeble attempts were made to suppress the new rationalism. The publication of the Encyclopedie was at one time arrested. Some of the most eminent writers of the age were sent to prison, though none were detained for long or harshly treated. Voltaire thought it prudent to spend the years of his highest fame and power in exile, and only revisited Paris at the very close of his life. But such half-hearted persecution merely advertised new ideas and proclaimed the imbecility of the government. Its worst effect lay in imparting to the Revolution a tinge of anti-religious rancour.

The nobility of France.

57

It is difficult to give the English reader a just conception of the French noblesse in the eighteenth century. Even the number of the nobles has been very variously estimated. Taine thought that there were about 140,000, or rather more than five nobles to every thousand inhabitants of France. The French noblesse corresponded at once to the English nobility and to the English gentry. It has often been termed a caste—correctly in so far as every child of gentle birth was noble—but incorrectly in so far as entrance to the class was easy; for, apart from the special favour of the Crown, any person might be ennobled by purchasing one of about four thousand offices. The French nobility as a whole was not rich. A few families possessing vast estates and attracting the lavish bounty of the sovereign were indeed as rich as the wealthiest English nobles. But the majority of French nobles neither owned wide domains nor could afford a splendid and luxurious life at Versailles. Some possessed very little land and drew nearly all their income from their seigniorial rights—rights analogous to those which an English lord of the manor enjoys against the copyholders. Such rights, often ill-defined and burdensome, were most unpopular, and bred infinite litigation which absorbed much of the revenue they pro­duced. The poor noble was condemned by the prejudices of his order to remain poor, for he might not engage in a lucrative calling and was almost compelled to enter the army or navy. Pay was small, promotion was tedious, and the great prizes in these as in other fields were too often intercepted by favour and intrigue. A prejudice hardly less powerful, though sometimes defied, forbade the noble to marry any woman not of noble blood and thus recruit his fortunes with wealth gained in commerce or industry. The virtues and the vices of the nobility were alike adverse to minute thrift and petty gains. Hence the share of the nobles in the wealth of France was diminishing for many years previous to the Revolution. The French noble was usually poorer than a petty English esquire; and Arthur Young was told at Nimes that many noble families in the Province of Rouergue contrived to live on fifty or even twenty-five louis a year.

^The French nobles as a class were without political power. It is true that they enjoyed many unjust privileges, such as exemption from the bulk of the direct taxes and a monopoly of field sports. Again, those nobles who surrounded the sovereign, waited on his person, and shared his pleasures, had ample opportunities of procuring favours for themselves and of doing harm to those who had incurred their hatred. Moreover, the officials of the Crown observed in their dealings with the nobility a forbearance and a courtesy, a respect for the rights of human nature, which were too often forgotten in dealing with the other classes. For after all the King of France was a French gentleman, who shared the tastes, habits, and prejudices of his order, and wished to gratify his fellows so far as was compatible with his own absolute power. But that

58

Weakness of the nobility.

absolute power came first in his thoughts and in the thoughts of his servants. No independent will might be allowed to impede the course of his prerogative. For centuries the Crown with its lawyers and officials had been sapping the power of the noblesse, and had at length reduced it to political -nullity. The nobles had lost all voice in making laws and levying taxes when the States General ceased to meet. The bureaucracy had carefully stripped them of administrative power in their respective neighbourhoods. They had no part in the levying of the militia, in the relief of the poor, in the assessment of taxes, in the execution of public works, or in enforcing the regulations which controlled commerce and industry. The only political privileges, which they retained were a share in the Estates of the few Provinces where Estates had survived, and an enervated feudal jurisdiction. The French noble had no opportunity of combining with his fellows, or of offering himself as a leader to the commons., A number of gentlemen- could not meet for any public purpose without official leave. The noblesse had never shown, eminent political capacity; and what they had, withered under conditions so deadening. At the outbreak of the Revolution not a few nobles gave proof of generous ardour for the common good; none save the discredited, vagabond Mirabeau displayed the acuteness or resource of the bom statesman.               ,

The French noblesse, as the event proved, was unpopular. It could hardly have been otherwise, for it, was a body sharply defined by the titles, forms, and privileges most apt to wound the pride as well as the self-interest of other classes. Although manners were more humane in France than in some of the adjoining countries, the noblesse often displayed the arrogance natural to men who are not merely taught to think themselves superior, but have no occasion to solicit other men’s suffrages. The isolation of the noblesse, save in. a few districts, was complete; for the policy of attracting the nobles to Court and keeping them in attendance on the sovereign had rendered the most illustrious and wealthy of that order strangers to their own estates. When a noble family, after long residence at Paris or Versailles, went down to the ancestral mansion, it usually sought to replenish its purse and lived frugally until it could .return to the centre of, power and pleasure. The significant phrase, “exiled to his estates,” tells us how the courtier regarded a sojourn in the country. Such a landed proprietor could not know the wants of his people or gain their good-will by furthering their welfare, but was often obliged to press them for the last farthing in order to feed his artific'al and expensive manner of life. The poorer nobles, who liyed in the country because they could not live so cheaply anywhere else, were as little able to improve their land, to help the peasants, or to encourage local industry. As a class the nobles had become useless. Their proprietary rights very generally took a form which hindered the progress of husbandry; their obsolete prejudices debarred them from

lucrative callings; and the jealousy of the Crown excluded them from public life. Arrogance, isolation, and futility, rather than any enormous wickedness, seem to have been the causes of the ill-will felt towards the French nobles. Very bad men are found in all times and in all classes, and certainly abounded at the Court of Louis XV. But much the greater number of the nobility had not the means, even if they felt the wish, to vie with the Regent Orleans or the Due de Richelieu, and astonish Europe by prodigal lust and riot. The ordinary French noble was a man of narrow ideas and strong prejudices, who cherished a false and flattering notion of the consequence of his own order; but he was often a man of honour and integrity, who led a spare and frugal life and taught his children some virtues which our commercial age is too prone to ignore.

Disunion completed the weakness of the French nobility. Even a small body of men cannot long be held together save by the effort to get or keep something of value to all the members. The English landed interest found such an object in political power and its advantages. The French nobles had no common tie of that kind. The nobles of the Court, who formed the most elegant society in Europe, despised their rustic brethren. The provincial noble swelled with anger at the thought that the reward of his campaigns and scars was intercepted by triflers and flatterers at Versailles. The noble of ancient lineage flouted the rich upstart who had bought an office conferring nobility, and affected to be familiar with descendants of the Crusaders. The “nobility of the sword,” as it was termed, which made arms its career, looked down upon the “nobility of the robe*” which preferred to fill, generation after generation, the more dignified places in the judicature. The absolute monarchy which denied any scope to combined effort, and the privileges which seemed to exclude all v cigar competition, left the French nobles free to indulge a mutual jealousy which only perished with the order.

The middle class was very differently composed in France and in Cjngland. In England there has always been a rural middle class either of yeomen or of substantial tenant farmers. But in France tenant farmers were rare save in a few Provinces; and the proprietor who culti­vated his own land had usually so little as not to rise above the degree of a peasant. Throughout the greater part of France the lawyers made up the chief part of what middle class there was in rural districts. Thus the French middle class was eminently urban, a bourgeoisie in the proper sense of that term. The towns had gained privileges and exemptions of various kinds proportioned to their wealth and power; and those citizens who belonged to the governing body or to any of the professional cor­porations were usually favoured above their, fellows. The unfair; apd oppressive taxation piled upon the dwellers in the country, especially the tax known as the Jranc-jief. payable by every person who, without being

noble, held a fief, had hindered prosperous citizens from buying small, estates and setting up as squires. They preferred to buy an office, and with it the privileges and the dignity of a servant of the Crown. In the country a townsman would have found little society; while at home he had friends and connexions who gave him consequence, atad could often exact full reparation for any affront offered by a noble.

French industry and commerce had grown steadily since the death of Louis XIV; and the urban class had increased in numbers and riches. Towns were indeed both few and small, if judged by the standard of our own time. According to a return prepared for Calonne in 1787, France then contained seventy-eight towns with upwards of 1-0,000 inhabitants and an aggregate population of nearly two millions. One hundred years later there were in France thrice as many towns with upwards of 10,000 inhabitants; and their aggregate population was more than four times as large as in 1787. Levasseur thinks that Paris at that time contained from 600,000 to 650,000 inhabitants, less than a quarter of its present population. The return prepared for Calonne estimated the population of Lyons at 135,000. No other city exceeded

100,000,                       and only five had more than 50,000. But it is doubtful what trust can be put in these statistics; and much higher figures are given by some contemporary writers. In point of health, convenience, and safety, the towns of France were also defective. Yet several were very prosperous; for France then enjoyed a superiority in certain manufactures which has been partly lost since; and the West India trade, in spite of frequent interruption ‘by war, was most profitable. The towns began to put on a modern aspect New quarters were built in spacious streets and squares; promenades were laid out on the site of the old ramparts; the streets were better paved and for the first time generally lighted; and a purer and more copious supply of water was brought sometimes, from a considerable distance. At Rheims Arthur Young felt bound to confess how much French cities surpassed English in their dignified and orna­mental appearance. At Nantes he lodged in a new hotel which had been built at a cost of 400,000 livres; and the theatre, “ twice as large as Drury Lane and five times as magnificent,” filled him with wonder. Bordeaux surprised him no less. Dr Rigby was similarly, charmed with Lyons and Marseilles. The citizens of these great towns must have been rich and luxurious.    ,

In truth the bourgeoisie, apart from such legal privileges as they enjoyed, were in many respects fortunate. The multitude of splendid foundations made a liberal education cheap and often gratuitous. The citizens were very generally free from the militia service, and the con­scription was as yet¹ unknown. Nearly all lucrative employments were filled by men of this class. It supplied the great majority of lawyers, judges, and civil servants, the contractors who reaped a rich harvest in every war, and the financiers who farmed the indirect taxes. If the

Grievances of the bourgeoisie.

61

bourgeoisie had little land, they possessed nearly all the capital of France, held the bulk of the public securities, and counted many a noble and prelate among their debtors. Intelligent, frugal, and laborious, they were always improving their stock; and every year they became a greater force in the kingdom. And yet this class which had so much to lose was profoundly discontented. With a few illustrious exceptions, such as Mirabeau and Lafayette, the leaders of the Revolution in every period of its history, even dining the Terror, came from this class. The bour­geoisie had studied the writings of the philosophers and economists, and had lost its deference for the priest and the noble. It longed for a share of power and consideration proportionate to its talent and culture. It wanted areal municipal self-government and a parliamentary constitution which would give it a direct voice in public affairs. It was irritated by the constant official meddling with the processes of industry and the movement of commerce. It understood how much wealth was lost for lack of simplicity, equity, and reasonableness in the fiscal system. It watched with alarm the waste and disorder which imperilled its own savings advanced to the State. It resented an almost entire exclusion from the army, the navy, and the diplomatic service. Above all it was embittered by the honorary distinctions of the nobility, and by the insolence of the more foolish nobles. Even the reflexion, that any opulent citizen could easily be ennobled, seems to have had no effect in soothing this exasperation. With these partly selfish motives for desiring a thorough reformation, there mingled beyond doubt that generous and humane enthusiasm, which was so widely spread through France in the latter part of the eighteenth century. Such feelings had not been sobered by any experience of public life or by any provident fear as to what might ensue were the old order too roughly assailed. The bourgeoisie were not yet aware, of any danger from below; nor could they divine that in no long space of time they would themselves be the theme of invective as bitter as Diderot or Champfort had ever poured forth against Kings and priests.

Whatever the prosperity of the towns, France remained eminently agricultural; and it would appear that, after deducting the townspeople, the nobles, and the clergy and other professional men in the country districts, four-fifths of the nation, fully twenty million souls, were employed in tilling the earth. An agricultural middle class hardly existed save in those north-western Provinces, Normandy, Picardy, Artois, Flanders, and the lie de France, where proprietors were accustomed to let their land in large farms. Elsewhere nearly all the agricultural population were peasants. Thus the peasants vastly outnumbered all the other classes of French society put together; , The condition of the peasants was undoubtedly a prime cause of the Revolution; but, since it, varied in different, parts of France and our information is imperfect, it has been very differently represented hy different writer/3 according to

the regions which they knew best, their temperament!, or the political opinions which they cherished.

The bulk of the French peasantry had achieved personal freedom, Villenage had been declining in France ever since the twelfth century; and the number of'persons more or less Unfree in their-status at the accession of Louis XVI did not exceed fifteen hundred thousand. These were mostly crowded together in a few districts. Louis emancipated the last serfs on the royal domain, and might well have enforced a general emancipation; but serfdom was so exceptional that such a reform would probably have had little influence on the course of events. ^: In the administration of their communes the peasants had also been freed from the control or supervision of their lctfds. That their local independence was little more than a form, was due to the action of the Intendant with his subdelegates, not of the gentry, who had been so carefully divested of administrative power.  ¹

The French peasants had also acquired an immense interest in the land. For lack of full and trustworthy statistics we cannot speak pre­cisely as to the distribution of real property. But a recent writer of authority has accepted the opinion that before the Revolution one-fifth belonged to the Crown or was communal property, one-fifth belonged to the clergy, one-fifth to the nobles, and two-fifths to the Third Estate. As few of the middle class were landowners, the share of the Third Estate belonged mostly to the peasants; and the peasants, who made up most of the rural communes, must be regarded as holding nearly all the communal lands. It appears that the peasants were always buying land and so changing the proportion in their favour. All the testimonies point to an enormous number of petty properties in France under Louis XVI. Arthur Young states that they abounded in almost every part of France and supposes more than One-third of the kingdom to have been occupied by them. Some writers have thought that very small properties were as numerous then as they now are in France, the great estates confiscated in the course of the Revolution having been bought in larger portions by purchasers often belonging to the middle class. The lands still held by the Crown, the clergy, and the nobles, were in some Provinces let in farms of considerable size, but in most to peasant metayers, the lord furnishing a variable proportion of the capital required, and taking a variable proportion of the gross produce. Young thought that perhaps seven-eighths of the land let were held on this tenure. An enquiry into the condition of the French peasants under Louis XVI is therefore threefold, according as it relates either to the hired labourer in the districts of large farms, or to the metayer, or to the petty proprietor cultivating his own land.

The condition of the hired labourer seems to have been as good as in many parts of England, better than in most countries of Europe. The districts where large farms held at a money rent abounded were

among the best tilled, and the farmers were substantial men. The labourer earned tolerable wages, and sometimes saved enough to buy a patch of land. It was not these districts which broke out into anarchy in the first months after the meeting of the States General. It was the districts full of mMayers and small proprietors that rose Up against the seigneurs; and these were the classes alleged to have been most wretched. Arthur Young’s verdict on the metayer system has been often quoted. “In this most miserable of all the modes of letting land:..the defrauded landlord receives a contemptible rent; the farmer is in the lowest state of poverty; the land is miserably cultivated, and the nation suffers as severely as the parties themselves.” As to the petty proprietors, he concluded that “ small properties are carried much too far in France; that a most miserable population has been created by them which ought to have had no existence.” Young had a high standard both of farming and of comfort; the impressions of other travellers were sometimes more favourable. Walpole, in 1765, thought the condition of the people wonderfully improved within his own recollection. “ The worst villages are tight, and wooden shoes have disappeared.” Dr Rigby, in 1789, was in raptures with the aspect of France; and, though a hasty traveller, he was not a contemptible witness, for he was a man of talent, accom­plished in natural science, and an agricultural amateur from the pioneer county of Norfolk. Young himself acknowledged that in the regions of vines and maize and olives, as well as in some northern Provinces, “France possesses a husbandry equal to our own.”

It would be more easy than useful to multiply general assertions of contemporaries on both sides of the case. The evidence which Babeau has collected as to the domestic economy of the peasants tends to show that they were as a rule meanly and often wretchedly housed, but that their diet varied in a surprising manner from one district to another. Here they ate good bread made chiefly or entirely of wheat; there rye bread was the staple article of food. In some places they ate meat only on holidays; in other places they con­sumed as much animal food as the best paid English labourer. Those differences of soil, climate, and access to markets, which still render the peasant’s lot so unequal in different parts of France, were still more potent when communication was difficult, when fiscal pressure varied from one region to another, and when the movement of produce was checked by so many artificial barriers. Babeau has shown that the peasant family often accumulated a surprising quantity of clothes and linen; and that peasant women usually allowed themselves some trinkets, at least a cross and chain of silver, sometimes of gold. To what extent the elements of knowledge were diffused among the peasants is an equally interesting and difficult enquiry. ■ Many communes possessed an elementary school; but for lack of funds the schoolmaster was usually ill qualified, and the buildings and appliances were such as would now be regarded as

64

Agrarian burdens.

wretchedly, insufficient. Taine’s assertio n that out of twenty-six million French people only one million could read is in itself improbable, and certainly not proved by the few particulars which he adduces. Babeau professes to have established that in the districts now forming the Department of the Aube seventy-two per cent, of the men and twenty- two per cent, of the women knew how to read. Yet a great number of the municipal officers elected under the laws of the Constituent Assembly are said to have been unable to read or write.

It might have been thought that , the difference would be glaring between the metayer, who gave his landlord a large part of the produce of the land, and the petty proprietor. But by far the greater number of such proprietors were what we should term copyholders, not freeholders. From the twelfth century onwards the great proprietors had been selling land to the peasants, not for a sum paid down, but for perpetual rent-charges and services. The progress of agriculture and the fall in the value of money had often made the rent-charge insignificant; but the services were felt to be more and more irksome as the times of villenage became more and more remote. The peasant chafed more and more under the corvee seigneuriale—the claim for a certain amount of unpaid labour—the banalites which obliged him to send his com to the seigneur's mill, his grapes to the seigneur's winepress, or his flour to the seigneur's oven, the peages seigneuriales—tolls levied on the roads and rivers of the vicinage for the seigneur's benefit—the dr ait de cailombier or right of the seigneur to keep an indefinite number of pigeons, which found their food in the adjoining cornfields, and the droit de chasse, which reserved every kind of game within the manor for the seigneur's amusement. Such manorial rights inflicted on the peasant a loss out of all proportion to the gain of the lord. What deduction from the gross value of the peasant’s land they implied we cannot tell, for they varied from manor to manor, and the estimates which have been attempted are all more or less uncertain. But experience everywhere has shown that, when the cultivator comes to regard himself not as tenant but as owner, all rents and services appear intolerable. It has been found needful to provide for the enfranchisement of copyholds in England, and for the purchase of farms by the tenants in Ireland. An enlightened government would have enforced the commutation of manorial rights in France.

A critical historian will not adopt without reserve those descriptions of the appalling misery of the French peasants which have been so often copied from one book into another. Yet there are solid reasons for thinking that most of them led a very hard, pinched, insecure life. The condition df the petty farmer or freeholder is not easy even under the more genial circumstances of the present day. In France one hundred and fifty years ago his technical skill and command of capital were far less, and his difficulties were far greater. He was subjected to unfair and excessive taxation, assessed and collected in such a way as to

Condition of France.

65

inflict the utmost loss and annoyance. He had to pay tithe. When he wished to take his produce to market he met with many hindrances. Although the highways were often superb, the cross-roads were usually villainous. On every road and every river the peasant might expect to pay toll to some lord or coiporation or city or to the Crown itself. Often he had to pass one of the internal lines of custom-houses. In selling his com, especially, he was hampered by edicts of the King and regulations of the Parlements. If his own crops failed in a bad season, the same obstacles hindered food from coming to him, and forced him to pay dear for it or go without. Before the extraordinary im­provement in communications due to steam, all countries were liable to times of scarcity, even of famine, unless, like England and Holland, they were everywhere accessible to water carriage, or, like Lombardy, unfailing in productiveness. The frequent recurrence of dearth in France before the Revolution does not imply so absolute a penury in the mass of the people as we are now apt to assume; but it does imply that their condition was bad, and in a country so fruitful and among a people so thrifty proves how injurious were the fiscal and agrarian systems.

If we judge France in the eighteenth century by the standard of to-day, we must pronounce French institutions clumsy, incoherent, and unjust, and a great part of the French people wretchedly poor and half­civilised. Yet France held the first place among European kingdoms; and if the condition of the lower classes was better in England, in the Netherlands, in a few favoured parts of Germany, and in northern Italy, it was probably worse in most of the German countries, in Naples, in Spain, and in Ireland. From the close of the Seven Years’ War to the outbreak of the Revolution France was growing in population, riches, and enlightenment. A reasonable and humane temper had spread so widely among administrators and judges that the spirit of government under Louis XVI was very different from what it had been under Louis XIV. But in a society where personal freedom was general, landed property widely diffused, and every class aspiring to equality with the class above, evils, which elsewhere might have been borne in patience, were felt to be intolerable. The long reign of a slothful and sensual Prince gave time for discontent to accumulate and criticism to become embittered. Class was divided from class; old institutions and beliefs became objects of scorn; crude theories and impossible hopes gave a new sting to injustice and oppression; and discerning strangers could foretell, even while all was calm, the approach of a tremendous catastrophe.

o.     h. e. vni.

6

CHAPTER III.

FINANCE.

The generalisation that money is the root of all revolution has the defects of its simplicity; but among the varied influences which provoked the French Revolution vicious finance takes the first place. Apart from it, other causes, seemingly independent, lose much of their significance^ Even the religious controversy owed much of its acuteness to a sensitive­ness about the rights of the Parlement, which were prized and feared mainly on account of their bearing upon public finance. Misgovemment made itself chiefly felt in the unequal and excessive pressure upon the taxpayer, which alienated the affections of the people from the govern­ment; and the refusal of the Parlement of Paris to legalise by registration permanent additions to taxation necessitated the convocation of the Assembly of Notables, and subsequently of the States General, which grew into the Constituent Assembly.

The problem before Louis XVI was to avert imminent bankruptcy while relieving the excessive pressure of taxation upon the lower and middle classes. No system, no expedients, could effect these objects without such a remodelling of the constitutional system and the machinery of government as would have amounted to a complete, if bloodless, revolution. Turgot’s minute to the King upon municipalities indicates this clearly: “The mischief comes from the fact that the nation is completely without a constitution.” Finance necessitated organic changes in the State. The present financial system of Russia works, it is true; but it is not one which the history and temperament of the French people would have allowed them to accept from Louis XVI. Roederer, addressing the Constituent Assembly, said: “ The unanimous mandate of France has settled the question. Finance must be placed outside the interference of the Executive power.” The Assembly virtually took upon itself the functions of Treasury control and of audit—the authorisation of expense, and the scrutiny of accounts; but the task was an impossible one for its financial representatives—at best a collection of untrained amateurs already absorbed by politics. It was left to the Empire and the restored Monarchy to introduce a rational financial system.

The financial resources of France.

67

France in the eighteenth century was without a budget. The very word first officially appears in a law of 1806. Living from hand to mouth, its accounts little better than statements of balances in the Exchequer, or of cash receipts and payments actually effected, it may almost be said that the financial system of the ct/ncien regime was to have no system. The history of Revolutionary finance will be dealt with in a later chapter. We proceed to consider the resources of government, the machinery of financial administration, and the pressure of taxation in the reign of Louis XVI.

The domaine, or feudal property of the Crown, corresponding In the main to our Crown lands, sufficiently provided for the needs of the early Kings of France; they “ lived of their own,” with more than sufficient to cover the expenses of their household and government. This favourable financial position stimulated, it is asserted, the growth of kingly power; it pushed the monarchy in the direction of assuming new functions and extending its sphere of influence. On the other hand, it infected public finance till the end of the eighteenth century with a belated feudalism. The accounts of the King were his private concern, not to be divulged to a profane public becoming increasingly sensitive to its powerlessness in determining the forms or the amount of taxation. Bargains, exemp­tions, privileges, were at the will of the sovereign. Particularism degenerated into chaos. Various causes, including, on the one hand, the alienation of royal properties by sales and gifts, and, on the other, the increase of expenditure due partly to the increased wealth and population of the country, partly to costly wars, reduced the King at an early stage to the necessity of appealing for additional resources. In 1439-51 the Estates of Languedoil lost their control over direct as they had previously lost it over indirect taxation. The annual taille amounted then to 1,200,000 livres, and was raised entirely from the Third Estate: the nobility and clergy were exempt.

The taille was from time to time increased, until, on the eve of the Revolution, it produced 91 millions of livres. To escape payment was a mark of social distinction: magistrates and their subordinates, financial and Court officials, members and officers of the Universities, and other classes, secured exemption. Corporations and towns compounded with the Treasury; and the number of taillables continually decreased, while the total burden to be borne became heavier and heavier. In a few provinces the taille was based upon reed estate and assessed upon a land register, thus becoming, in reality, a land tax. Elsewhere, it was personal and arbitrary. The total was fixed by the Royal Council once a year for each election, except in the pays d'etats, where the sum demanded by the Royal Council was voted and apportioned by the provincial assemblies. The amount required from each Election once decided, the quota of each parish was arrived at by the elus, at first nominated by the people, but already in the fifteenth century by the

68    Taille.—Capitation.—Don gratuit.

King; and the share of each inhabitant was assessed by persons chosen in the parish. The assessment varied with the presumed wealth of the taxpayer and depended upon his mode of living and his apparent pros­perity. The contribution was collected by receivers chosen in the district and made personally responsible for the payment of the full amount.

Taxpayers deliberately lowered their standard of livings and refused to stock or cultivate their farms to the best advantage, having found by experience that the increased taxation following upon any evidence of improvement was often more than sufficient to deprive them of the fruits of increased industry and enterprise. The taiMe was, in this way, a distinct check to the creation of wealth and to the increase of comfort. The Constituent Assembly pronounced it responsible for “ a negligence, a deprivation, and an insalubrity in the majority of rural dwellings, most injurious to the comfort and even to the preservation of the tillers of the soil.” The so-called corvtrainte solidaire rendered the wealthiest inhabitants liable to imprisonment until the whole taille of their district had been paid, even though their own contributions had been faithfully discharged. If they made good the deficiencies of the collector, the parish was assessed a second time in one year in order to repay them. As many as 95 collectors in one Slection of Champagne were imprisoned at one time.

The capitation, or poll tax upon the head of each household, was first established in 1695, during the war of the League of Augsburg and was suppressed after the Peace of Ryswick, but renewed in 1701 on the occasion of the Spanish War. It was regarded as a war tax, to be abandoned six months after the conclusion of peace, but was maintained till 1791. The whole community was liable to it, according to a classi­fication which reposed upon status and not upon wealth. There were 22 classes, in the first of which stood the Dauphin alone, assessed at 2000 livres; in class 2, came the Princes of the Blood, assessed at 1500; at the bottom of the scale, labourers figured at 40, 30, 10, 3 livres, or even at 20 sols. The clergy had compounded in 1695, and again in 1701, and had finally in 1709 agreed to pay 24 millions down, thus obtaining exemption till 1789. The don gratuit, or free gift accorded to the King by the clergy, was revised by them every five years. In its permanent form it dated from the Conference of Poissy, 1561, when it was fixed for six years at 1,600,000 livres; but special grants were added on special occasions. Efforts to make the contribution compulsory were success­fully opposed by the clergy; and, in return for their don gratuit, they claimed exemption from new taxes like the capitation and the vingtieme. In 1755 the dan gratuit was settled at 16 millions, at which figure it stood unaltered until its abolition. The repartition of the burden was left to the clergy themselves. In 1758 a don gratuit was imposed upon the cities and towns of France for six years, but successive renewals continued it to the end of the century. The pays d'Stats and

several towns made an annual subscription for capitation as in the case of the faille. The division into classes was made by the Intendants; but, in spite of apparent equality, the Commons were assessed strictly (the tattle serving as a guide), while the Nobles were rated according to their personal declarations. They obtained, under various pretexts, indul­gences and. exemptions to such an extent that they were estimated to pay only one-eighth of their fair contribution, while the peasantry contributed eight times their equitable quota. The capitation yielded 21£ millions of limes in 1695, and upwards of 56 millions in 1789.

The vingtieme—r-st kind of tithe, theoretically payable upon all pro­perty, real or personal—was first imposed by Desmarets in 1710, abolished in 1717, renewed 1733 to 1737, and again from 1741 to 1749. In 1749 it was made permanent and fixed at the rate of one vingtieme and. two sols the Imre. A second vingtieme was imposed in 1756, and in 1760 two vingtiemes and. two sols a livre, making roughly one-sixth of all income. In this case also the pays d'etats arranged for a fixed annual subscription; and certain towns and corporations either subscribed or redeemed the tax on easy terms. The clergy, as already explained, were not separately assessed. The privileged classes successfully exerted their social influence to evade the strict assessment to which they were legally i liable ; and Calonne declared that the total yield of the tax was only half the proper amount. The extent to which personal property escaped may be gauged from the fact that in 1785 only 2^ millions were derived from personal as against 74 millions from real property.

The aides were indirect taxes of the nature of excise duties levied chiefly upon alcohol, but also upon gold and silver ware, steel, iron, cards, paper, starch, etc. Various localities had purchased exemption in whole or in part, causing innumerable differences in the various parts of the kingdom.

The traites or customs, etymologically transit dues, were tolls levied usually for the benefit of municipal or ecclesiastical corporations, or of nobles, upon goods passing across the borders of their properties. The Baron de Comere, who published in 1789 a treatise on finance, prepared a map showing the intricate divisions and subdivisions of France for the purpose of customs and excise duties, but declared it impossible to indicate the multiplicity and complexity of the barriers where transit dues were collected. It would seem indeed that not even the govern­ment possessed any complete record of them. They were in effect internal customs, requiring an army of collectors, and seriously fettered the interior commerce of the country. Colbert had endeavoured to secure uniformity and order by a general tariff; but the pays d'etats, jealous of their privilege of voting their own assessments, resisted him so effectually that he was unable to do more than make three great divisions for government purposes: (i) the five great farms (twelve Provinces mainly around Paris and between the Somme and the Loire); (ii) the

70

Gabelle and other burdens.

“foreign” Provinces—Britanny, Auvergne, the south of France, Franche Comte, and Flanders; (iii) the places “ reputed foreign ”—Alsace, Lor­raine, Metz, Verdun, Avignon, Marseilles, Dunkirk, Bayonne, and L’Orient. Within these several districts there were no government internal customs, but private and municipal tolls were numbered by thousands. A boat from Languedoc to Paris laden with wine lost a fortnight in paying some forty tolls.

Upon various smaller taxes, such as stamps, posts, tobacco, powder and saltpetre, and import dues, it is unnecessary to enlarge. The gabelle, or salt tax, deserves fuller consideration. The government monopoly in salt was stringently enforced. The country was divided into six districts— the granules gabelles, petites gdbelles, salines, pays redimes, the provinces franches, and the pays de quart bouillon. The historical reasons for these distinctions must be sought elsewhere. Certain places and persons were franc-sale, or exempt. The price of salt varied in different districts from 50 sols to 60 livres at the same time. Every individual over eight years of age was supposed to consume a minimum quantity of salt (sel de devoir), about litres a year; and (unless privileged) was taxed accord­ingly. Contraband was rife; 50,000 troops and agents were employed to suppress it. It was forbidden to use sea water for cooking or manu­factures, to feed cattle in the salt marshes, or to drink at salt springs. Meat and cheeses could not be preserved for lack of salt; and the breeding of cattle was hindered. In 1783 there were 4000 domiciliary seizures; 2500 men, 2000 women, 6600 children were arrested. Out of 6000 criminals at the galleys, one-third were convicted smugglers. The salt tax yielded some 60 millions; the cost of collection was from 18 to 20 millions¹.

Over and above these contributions, the people paid ecclesiastical tithes, local taxes (octroi, etc., in which the government sometimes shared), and feudal dues to their seigneurs, and contributed personal service or forced labour (corvies) upon public works; for example, making and mending the roads, conveying troops, stores, etc. They also served in the militia to the number of 60,000—selected annually by lot—and were burdened with billeting or the gratuitous lodging of soldiers. Each district was compelled to contribute its contingent to the militia, md substitutes were not allowed for fear of hindering enlistment for the standing army. Those liable to service sometimes fled to the mountains Or the woods, and were hunted down by their neighbours who had no desire to serve in their stead. The privileged classes and their servants were exempt.

The total burden of taxation might have been easily borue had it been fairly distributed. Forbonnais, one of the ablest and best-informed writers on French finance, wrote in 1758, “ France would be too rich if the taxes were equitably apportioned.” But the wealthiest classes, by ¹ For a map of the districts of gabelles see Keeker’s Oompte Rendu, 1781.

Collection of revenue.

71

the purchase of official posts or otherwise, joined the ranks of the privi­leged, and secured complete or partial exemption. The practice of farming; the indirect taxes to the highest bidder encouraged revolting harshness in collection. In his celebrated anonymous Theory of Taxa­tion, 1760, the elder Mirabeau, addressing the King, informs him that he has seen a tax-gathering bailiff cut off the hand of a woman who clung to her cooking utensils when distraint was made upon her effects. Collectors were appointed by a system of rotation, under which two or three persons each collected a year’s taxes in turn. This primitive device for keeping the accounts of each year’s receipts distinct occasionally resulted in conflicting claims upon a taxpayer in arrear for the current taxes, last year’s taxes, and the taxes of the year before. Competing among themselves, the several collectors showed no consideration for the public ; and it was left to Necker to exempt the bed and clothing of unfortunate debtors from distraint for taxes. Forcible resistance to arrest or to domiciliary visits was met with the extremity of armed violence. Adam Smith, with unusual warmth, says: “Those who consider the blood of the people as nothing, in comparison with the revenue of the prince, may, perhaps, approve of this method of levying taxes.”

The practice of farming out a particular tax is of great antiquity. In 1697 the indirect taxes were leased collectively to a body of financiers, sixty in number, thenceforward known as the Farmers-general. They were appointed by the King for six years and paid an agreed sum in advance year by year. The leases were awarded by Court favour and led to much intrigue and corruption, always at the ultimate expense of the public. The farmer made large profits. “ He levies,” says Adam Smith (referring to salt and tobacco), “ two exorbitant profits upon the people: the profit of the farmer and the still more exorbitant one of the monopolist.” In 1785 a government analysis disclosed 5 lbs. of salt and 25 lbs. of surplus water to 100 lbs. of tobacco, a fraud of 23 per cent, in a farm yielding SO millions of livres. It was on the charge of this fraud that the farmers-general were guillotined during the Revolution. At a dinner party at Voltaire’s the exploits of famous robbers were being related. Pressed for a story in turn, Voltaire began, “ There was once upon a time a farmer-general,” and, after some hesitation, “ That is all! ” Some of the farmers were public-spirited and upright men. Beaujon founded a hospital. Helvetius, Dupin, and Lavoisier, bear honoured names in literature and science. But the system, convenient as it was to a govern­ment anxious rather for the moment than the future, deserves the stigma of Adam Smith as “ wasteful and expensive.” The ferme generate pro­duced 37 million livres in 1697, 64 in 1743, 90 in 1763, 112 in 1786, and 180 in 1789.

The banking system of the country was so imperfect that the remit­tance of large sums from place to place was slow, troublesome, expensive, and almost dangerous. On this account collectors of taxes deducted from

72

Lack of control.

the revenue the cost of collection and defrayed local charges out of the funds in their hands. The net receipts alone found their way into the exchequer; the pays (Petals contributed only their surplus;, and the total contributions of the people are therefore hardly discoverable. One example will illustrate this. Necker, in his Compte Rend/a of 1781, returns the receipts from the femmes generates unies at 48,427,000 livres* They amounted in fact to 126,000,000, out of whichwere paid the salaries of the Parlement of Paris, the Chambre des Comptes, the Cour des Aides, part of the interest on public debt, tithes, etc., in all 77,573,000 livres. Twelve audit offices received the vouchers of their several districts; but no central authority resumed them as a whole. The Royal Council added the accounts together and ordered the local Chambres des Comptes to pass them without waiting for further examination; and the summary was then signed by the King, leaving a blank for the total, tc admit of subsequent corrections. Acquits de comptant, or orders upon the Treasuiy, emanating from the King or the Controller-General, without specifying any service, were, not sent to the Chambre des• Comptes. Thus at least one-sixth of the expenditure entirely escaped audit. Other expenses might, for political reasons, be passed for audit by the Conseil d’etat, or by the Bureau des Finances. The controllers or auditors, who purchased their officeswere ordered to arrange with the local revenue officers (whose accounts they checked) for the payments due to them. Such a regulation was highly dangerous to the scrupulous conduct of their business ; and it is impossible to view without suspicion discrepancies which will now never be cleared up. The acquits de comptant received a great extension under Madame de Pompadour. They increased from some 20 to 30 millions in 1739 to 117 millions in 1759.

The annual ledger was disturbed by anticipations and repayments to such an extent that the accounts of a single year were frequently not closed for ten or twelve years. In 1789 the anticipations upon future budgets had risen to 282 millions of livres, or, according to the later statement of Cambon, to 325 millions. The Controller-General might indeed form an estimate of the normal revenue for the coming year; but his estimate of expenditure was liable to serious disturbance from capricious expenditure beyond his control. The acquits de comptant were increasingly abused; and the creations of pensions without adequate justification became a scandal of the first magnitude. The publication of the Livre Rouge, or register of pensions, bound in red, added fuel to the flame of the Revolution. In April, 1787* Calonne informed the Assembly of Notables that the pension list amounted to a total of 16 millions of livres. In 1790 Camus declared the true amount to be over 51 millions. Vouchers for payment were not always forthcoming. In some instances the pensions were charged upon revenue. The mistress of a minister received 12,000 livres a year on the contract for the bread of galley slaves. Economies were effected in the cost of public

Increasing deficits.

73

lighting by extinguishing lamps upon moonlight nights, and so-called “ pensions on the moon ” were accorded out of the saving. When public debts were created, fictitious creditors were entered as subscribers, and thus became virtual pensioners. In 1770 the State debt included some 40 or 50 millions of imaginary capital on this account. One Ducrest, a barber, figured in the Red Book for a pension of 1700 livres as some­time hairdresser to a daughter of the Comte d’Artois who died as an infant before she had hair to dress. During the eight years 1779 to 1787, the pensions charged in the Livre Rouge, including acquits au porteur and acquits de constant, amounted to 858,824,250 livres. ■

The deficit increased from year to year. Bankruptcies, or repudia­tions of part of the national obligations, occurred in 1715,1721,1726, 1759, 1770. A Controller-General with a depleted exchequer raised money how and when he could. Money was coined lighter, with the result that foreign-made coin of the new weight crept into circulation to an amount estimated by Forbonnais at three hundred millions of livres. The payment of expenses, and even of interest on debt, was postponed to the following year; moneys were borrowed or anticipated upon future budgets; loans were raised at usurious rates; unnecessary offices were created and sold, which amounted to borrowing upon annuities; and in this manner a large floating debt was kept on foot until the issue of a new loan enabled the government to consolidate a portion of it with the ever-increasing public debt. Such a course made rapidly for financial ruin. The American War of Independence cost the French nation from 1000 to 1200 millions. Cambon states the amount at 1500 millions. No less than 220 millions were still due on this account in 1783 (Calonne), and 100 millions in 1784 (Necker). In their anxiety to do a mischief to England the advisers of Louis XVI precipitated the ruin of the French monarchy—as well by the example of American [^dependence, which they helped to bring about, as by their mortal blow at the finances of the struggling government.

Economy in administration, a peaceful policy, a rigid and businesslike control of public expend' are, a clear and ordered system of public accounts, might have alleviated the difficulty. These were the expedients of Necker; but no permanent solution of the problem was possible without subjecting the privileged classes to their fair share of taxation, and to this their assent could not be obtained. Beyond this, the leaven of political liberty and the increasingly critical attitude of the public made it inevitable that the taxpayer should be admitted to a share in the direction of financial policy: The Parlement of Paris, a body of salaried judges who purchased their appointments, declared itself in­competent to grant permanent taxes; but at the same time demanded the convocation of the States General, in order “ that the nation might be instructed in the state of its public finances” before further taxes were conceded. The wordy warfare of eighteen months between

74

Financial statements.

Calonne and Necker as to the accuracy of Necker’s statement of finance sufficiently illustrates the shadowy uncertainty which hung over financial administration. The publication, by royal permission, of the Compte Rendu of Necker in 1781 is an event of the first importance in the history of French finance. From the time of Richelieu it had been the policy of government to discourage and even to punish the public discussion of national finance.                                         -

Necker’s account was an estimate of the probable ordinary budget of the year, excluding war expenditure and other “ extraordinary ” charges. He (improperly) includes the cash balance in the Treasury as income of the year, and gives no account of the debt—a large part of which was floating or unfunded. Calonne based his criticism upon it in the main upon comptes effectifs, or figures of actual expenditure as certified by the Chambre des Comptes; but these figures were in themselves exceedingly imperfect for the reasons already given, and much of the controversy turned upon the question whether floating debt and terminable annuities were to be regarded as permanent debt or as current expenditure. It will readily be seen that such simple questions as what were the receipts and the expenses of government, and the amount of the national debt, year by year, are not now susceptible of accurate answer: it may indeed be doubted whether an accurate answer could ever have been given. In 1788 there appeared at Lausanne a collection of the public accounts of France from 1758 to 1787, usually attributed to Mathon de la Cour. These were prepared from the official papers of the Abbe Terray, of Turgot, and of Necker, and showed for the year 1774 expenses of 234 millions, receipts 207 millions, to which Calonne added 12£ millions of extraordinary expenses, chiefly connected with the war. Apparently some 165 millions of expenses over and above these amounts were paid out of gross revenue. In 1775, under Turgot, the expenses are estimated at 414£ millions, the receipts at 377|, and the permanent debt charge at 235J millions. In 1776, under Clugny, the expenses were 402^ millions, the receipts 378£, while expenses charged upon future budgets amount to 50£ millions. Calonne places the deficiency in this year at upwards of 37 millions. In 1784 Calonne sold to Burgundy the privilege of exemption from aides-, and it is estimated that, out of the total borrowing of 1647 millions between 1776 and 1786 Calonne alone borrowed 650 millions and a half, at an annual cost of 45 and a half millions, in 41 months of peace. In 1786 the expenses amounted to 593 and a half millions, the receipts to 412 and a quarter millions. In 1787 the expenses exceeded 599 millions, while the receipts were estimated at 474 millions, though Brienne admitted a deficit of 140 millions and antici­pations exceeding twice that amount. According to Bailly, the nation contributed in 1786 upwards of 880 millions, of which 558 went to the government, 41£ to the Provinces, and 280£ to private individuals and communities. Again, according to Bailly, the etat au vrai, based upon

The Compte Rendu of 1788.

75

actual receipts and expenditure and eliminating anticipations and repay­ments, showed the receipts of the Treasury at 364 millions, the expenses at 442,350,000. There were, however, in addition, 27,313,000 of pensions and 71,932,000 of arrears, making the total real deficit of 1785 177,640,000 livres. In 1789 the true debt amounted to

4,467,478,000, with a charge for interest of 236,150,000. On the evening of April 30, 1789, there were in the Treasury 58,589,079 livres: 80 millions more were due to the Treasury, and 90 millions of anticipa­tions had been consumed in advance upon the receipts of 1790, with a further 172 millions upon the last eight months of 1789.

These figures sufficiently show the desperate financial position of the French monarchy on the eve of the Revolution—chronic deficit, in­creasing public debt, increasing pressure upon the taxpayers, resulting in increasing exasperation, intensified by the unfairness of exemption. Without further resources the King was hopeless. Before granting further resources, the people demanded guarantees against arbitrary fiscal oppression by large extensions of political power. The struggle to obtain this power and the opposition to its concession are the first chapter in the French Revolution.

We are now in a position to examine the Compte Rendu of 1788, the last presented to the King before the convocation of the States General. It was prepared by Lambert, Controller-General under Lomenie de Brienne, and is summarised as follows:

Receipts:             livret

Ordinary (gross) receipts         472,415,549

Extraordinary receipts    168,130,500

Total 640,546,049

Expenses:

1.     Ordinary expenses and charges to be paid out of

revenue....... 240,420,720

2.     Extraordinary expenses and charges to be paid

out of revenne ... ••• ... ■■■ ...                         6,656,285

3. Repayments and charges to be paid out of revenue           13,629,567

4. Ordinary expenses to be paid out of the Exchequer     286,834,369

5. Extraordinary ,, „ ,, ,,   22,739,300

6................. Repayments due at fixed dates .......................... 62,872,800

Total       633,153,041

At the first blush it might appear that there is here an estimated surplus revenue of 7,393,008 livres. In reality there is a deficit of 160,737,492 livres. The ordinary expenses (items 1 and 4) amount to 527,255,089, the ordinary receipts to 472,415,549—a deficit of 54,839,540 livres on the normal budget. But if we add the extraordinary expenses (items 2 and 5) and the repayment of loans due

76

Receipts of 1788.

in the year (items 3 and 6), the total becomes 160,737,492. It is converted into a surplus by treating as “receipts” a number of mis­cellaneous loans and sales amounting to 154,327,500 livres and a small balance of miscellaneous windfalls, 13,803,000. With this exception of less than 14 millions the whole of the extraordinary receipts are borrowings in one form or another. This estimate of extraordinary receipts was not realised. The cost of raising the loans is not accounted for. An enormous deficit is virtually treated as if it were revenue I The gross receipts, in greater detail, are as follows:

Fermes g&nirales:

Gabelles           ...

Tobacco  

Entries {Octroi, etc.) of Paris

Traites   

Sundry receipts      

livres

58.560.000

27.000.000

30.000.000

28.440.000 6,106,875

livres

General receipts (direct taxes), (tallies, capitation, vingtiemes, etc.)

3.     TUgie gSnirale (aides, etc.)

4.     Domaine ... ...

5.     Casual revenue ...

6.     Post-office        ...

7.     Mailship service ...

8....... Tolls at Sceaux and Poissy   

9.     Subscription for duties of maritime Flanders

10...... Gunpowder         

11...... Royal lottery        

12...... Vingtieme (subscribed for)  

13...... Mint            

14...... Assay, etc.           

15.   Tithe (on Government salaries and pensions)

16...... Utats of Languedoc     

17.   „ „ Britanny     ... ... ... ...

18...... _i3 33 Bourgogne    

19...... ,, ,, Provence ...    

20.   General receipts, Languedoc and Roussillon

21...... „    ,, Britanny      

22.   ,,      ,, Bresse, Bugey, and Gex ...

23.   „       ,, Provence and locality around

24.   „       „ Pau, Bayonne, and Foix

25.   Due from the United States of America ...

26...... Forges of La Chaussade              

27...... Due from towns for fortifications

28...... Miscellaneous receipts 

29.   Don gratuit of the clergy; old debts, etc.

150,106,875

156,478,010

51.940.000

51.240.000

5.665.000

10.800.000

1.100.000

630.000

800.000

500.000

9.860.000 574,700 533,774

120.000 966,751

8,584,824

6,115,400

3,201,508

1,997,031

1,210,426

496,060

938,128

895,431

1,260,079

1.600.000 80,000

561,552

4,160,000

Total 472,415,549

Of this total 211,708,977 livres alone were receivable into the exchequer. The sum paid out of item 1 for cost of collection, charges

The defects of French finance.   77

assigned, etc., amounted to 132,305,658 limes: out of item 2,43,134,100; item 3, 40,828,021; item 4, 14,017,550. Item 16 was insufficient by 2,280,787 livres to meet the expenses charged for the year upon the financial agents in Languedoc. The net receipt under item 17 is 3,073,421; item 18, 21,038 only. The only receipts which are nett as well as gross are 10,12,15,25,26, and 27. The items 6, 7,8, and 14 are farmed. Item 25 represents a sum due from the United States in respect of French assistance during the War of Independence. Of the ordinary -xpenses about 100^ millions are for the War Department, 45 millions for the Navy, 9 millions for Foreign Affairs, nearly 32 millions for the Household of the King and the royal family, or upwards of 186 millions out of a total of 286. The last item had been very considerably cut down. Reductions of 36,266,837 livres had been made in the total estimate of expenses, but such reductions are not necessarily to be regarded as ultimate economies.

In spite of the numerous reforms of Turgot and of Necker the finances of France on the eve of the Revolution illustrate every possible defect. The government did not pay its way. With gross receipts of 472 millions it had an annual charge of one half (or upwards of 236 millions) for debt alone; and the debt was ever growing. A very small portion of it was productive of revenue. State railways, State telegraphs, and other modem assets to be set against public debts, did not exist. Practically the whole debt was the heritage of past misgovemment hung like a millstone around the neck of the nation. Delays in the payment of interest, the forced reduction of the rate of interest in violation of public faith, the risk of total repudiation, alarmed the wealthier classes of the bourgeois, the merchants, the financiers, and the new nobility, who were at once the government’s chief creditors and its principal critics. The superior credit of England would have enabled her in case of war to raise easily and rapidly a large war loan, while France would have been at the mercy of her enemies. Her treasury empty, her credit exhausted, her resources anticipated in advance, she could hardly hope to hold her place as a great nation, if she continued to descend the slope of insolvency. After payment of the debt charge her revenues fell hope­lessly short of the minimum requirements of the public service; and the most drastic economy would only have succeeded in retarding the final crash. The direct taxes pressed so heavily upon the tiers Hat that an increase was not to be thought of. Indirect taxes might, perhaps, by the operation of what is known as “ the elasticity of the exchequer,” have yielded an even higher return if they had been reduced. It is almost certain that an increase in these taxes would have failed to produce a higher revenue. The form of the taxes was odious to such a degree that in his Compte Rendu au Roi in 1781 Necker published his opinion of the gabelle in terms like these: “One universal cry rises, so to speak, against this tax. Thousands of men, ceaselessly attracted by the bait of an easy profit, devote themselves constantly to the illegal commerce of smuggling

78

Intolerable burdens of the nation.

salt. Agriculture is abandoned for a career promising greater and quicker returns. Children under their parents’ eyes grow up in forgetfulness of public probity; and thus, by a mere fiscal arrangement, is prepared a generation of depraved humanity. The evil resulting from this school of immorality is incalculable.” The taxes took immensely more from the pockets of the people than found its way into the Treasury. Some of the taxes, indeed, hardly paid for the cost of collection. The apprehension of the taillable as to the amount of his assessment, with its attendant fatalism, broke his spirit and numbed his energies. Certainty, the great safeguard of the taxpayer, was wanting. Economy and efficiency were alike lacking in the mode of collection, and in the checking and ordering of the public accounts. Finally, equality, the first great requisite of taxation, was openly flouted. It was requisite that the people as a whole should shoulder the burden, sweep away local privilege and personal exemptions, unify the fiscal arrangements of the country, and decide for itself how best to support the weight of the national engagements. One of Necker’s numerous adversaries declared that local inequalities were rather apparent than real, and that where the gabeUe was lightest the taille was heaviest. This assertion was true only in part. So far as it was true it lessened the difficulty which would have been encountered in smoothing out the differences of taxation.

The calculations of Taine, based upon the reports of the provincial assemblies from 1778 to 1787, show an average contribution of each taillable in respect of direct taxation (taille, capitation, vmgtieme, etc.), amounting to 53 fr. 15 c. for each 100 fr. of income assessed to taille. Over and above this the tithe is 14 fr. 28 c. The feudal dues are estimated at the same sum. The total was 81 fr. 71 c. on each 100 fr. of nett revenue; and out of the balance of 18 fr. 29 c. there still remained to be paid the aides, gabelle, etc. As a set-off, the peasant received the services of the clergy, and even his seigneur rendered him some return. The monopoly of the lord’s mill, oven, market, etc., was a burden; but it dated from the time when the lord alone possessed capital enough to construct the mill; and his fees for milling may thus be regarded as an agreed bargain. But for the most part the absentee seigneur did little or nothing for the peasant. His duties of protection, succour, and charity, had fallen into disuse. The dues were often petty in amount, but on that account all the more irritating, owing to the time and trouble wasted in paying them long after their raison d'Stre had ceased to be apparent. The' lods et ventes were a more serious charge, amounting usually to one-sixth of the purchase-inoney, but sometimes one-fifth or one-fourth, upon the sale of land, or a lease for more than nine years. Under such weights as these the very springs of industry were broken. The active and industrious section of the community yielded up to its governors the capital which would have made its labours vastly more productive to the general well-being. Fiscal burdens were ruining alike the government and the people.

CHAPTER IV.

LOUIS XVI.

Louis, third son of the Dauphin and grandson of Louis XV, was bom on August 23, 1754, and was therefore in his twentieth year when he succeeded to the throne on May 10,1774. In 1770 he had married Marie-Antoinette, youngest daughter of Maria Theresa, then fourteen years old. This marriage had been intended to strengthen the alliance between the Houses ■ of Bourbon and Habsburg, as were likewise the marriage of Ferdinand of Naples with the Archduchess Maria Caroline, and the marriage of Ferdinand of Parma with the Archduchess Maria Amalia.

In person Louis was large and inclined to corpulence, with little grace of bearing and with undistinguished features. His intelligence was by no means contemptible. Although his education had been grossly neglected, he was thoughtful, liked reading, and possessed a degree of historical and geographical knowledge unusual among kings. His character presented an amiable contrast to that of Louis XV. He revolted against the vices of the Court in which he grew up; he took a serious view of his duty, was religious without fanatical intolerance, and tried to live in some accord with his profession of faith. He wished to improve the condition of the people, practised economy in his personal expenses, and always instinctively preferred upright men for ministers. Yet, with all these good qualities, Louis was unfit to be an autocrat, and doubly unfit to govern France on the eve of a revolution. Shy and unsocial, he spent valuable time in trifling mechanical pursuits or in the hunting-field, where he used to fatigue himself so much that he would afterwards fall asleep in Council when grave business was under discussion. He was unequal to prolonged toil or daring resolution, and so self-distrustful as to be readily swayed this way or that by those whom he liked or who had frequent access to his company. His very virtues thus became a snare, for, had he been a worse husband, he would have been less influenced by that unwise counsellor, his Queen. His lack of will was phenomenal. When you can keep together a number of oiled ivory balls, said the Comte de Provence, you may do

80

Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette.

something with the King. It was thus that, when Louis had set foot on the path of reform, he was again and again diverted by sinister influences, or retreated before opposition which had no strength but in his own weakness. So,, when the Revolution began, he could resolve on no policy and would take no decisive measure, but drifted on the current of circumstance. Sometimes, indeed, he was spurred into doing just enough to awaken suspicion, but only to sink back into the same lethargy and lose whatever advantage continuous action might have gained. Even at the last, when power was gone and it was only a question of saving life and liberty, the same failings wrought his destruction. In another age and country Louis might have proved an excellent constitutional King; but where fate had placed him he was no more than an inglorious victim.

His Queen, for very different reasons, was equally unsuited to her position. She began with the grave disadvantage of representing the Austrian alliance, which was unpopular both as a departure from French tradition and as the cause of many misfortunes to France. In the Seven Years’ War France had lost her empire in India and America; her navy had been destroyed, her military renown had been tarnished, her finances had been ruined. England and Prussia, the authors of these calamities, were less detested than the Austrian ally for whom they had been endured. From the first arrival of Marie-Antoinette there was laid up against her a fund of grudge and suspicion, and in after years nothing was too bad to be believed of the Austrian woman. She was unfortunate in her education, for the Court of Vienna was singularly indifferent to intellectual interests, and the Archduchesses were brought up with little culture. Maria Theresa has testified to her own neglect of her daughter, who could not write a good letter, had no taste for reading, and did not even possess any of the lighter accomplishments. She was still more unfortunate in being thrown, at the age of fourteen, into a Court where she had scarcely a friend and where no good was to be learnt. The heavy, listless youth to whom she was married did nothing' to gain her affection or respect. The old King, though well disposed towards her, was too slothful a voluptuary to think of governing his household. She fell under the influence of his daughters, three maiden ladies of feeble intelligence, gave herself up to childish amusements and unsuitable companions, and made no serious effort to understand French character or conciliate French opinion.

As she grew up, Marie-Antoinette shook off this degrading depend­ence, and when children were bom to her she gained ascendancy over the mind of her husband. She remained, however, a thoughtless woman, frank to indiscretion, haughty towards those whom she disliked, little apt to take good advice, and headstrong in all her actions. She was capable of very warm friendship; but her bosom friends, such as the. Polignacs and the Princess of Lamballe, had neither the sense nor the

strength of character to supply her deficiencies. She was compassionate to distress when it came before her in bodily form; but she had not enough reach of mind to grasp the amount of suffering caused by reck­less and wasteful government. In affairs of State she always took the personal view, never the statesman’s. For these reasons her interference in public affairs was often harmful, and brought upon her odium even out of proportion to the harm. She displayed noble qualities of courage and devotion in the closing period of her life; but even then she gave no proof of that talent for affairs which her mother had possessed in so eminent a degree.

What the Queen lacked as an adviser Louis could not hope to find among his nearest relatives. His next brother, the Comte de Provence, though clever, was at this time a frivolous trifler, despising the King who disliked him, and a bitter personal enemy of the Queen. The Comte d’Artois, the youngest of the brothers, in after life an impene­trable bigot and dullard, now a mere fop and voluptuary, was on better terms with the Queen; but his influence, such as it was, tended to the detriment of the King and the kingdom. Philip, Due de Chartres, afterwards Due d’Orleans, the King’s cousin, was as yet remarked only for his dissolute manner of life. At a later period he became ambitious, showed a peculiar enmity to the Queen, and finally set himself up under the thinnest disguise as a rival to the King.

It is no longer necessary for the historian to insist that the failings of Louis, his Queen, and his kinsmen, were not principal causes of the Revolution impending over France. The Revolution arose from the fact that the French people had entirely outgrown its institutions and must find new ones if its growth were not to cease. But the form which that Revolution should take was in large measure determined by the character of the man whom birth had invested with supreme authority, and by the personal influences to which he was exposed. A bold and able King, or even a King capable of holding firmly by a minister of genius, might have guided the course of events, might have made himself powerful by administrative reform, and popular by sacrificing the privi­leged orders, and might have prolonged the life of the monarchy while saving France from ten years of unutterable confusion. But, though Louis often saw what was right, he could not conceive or execute a policy; and, although he tried to choose honest and capable servants, he could not support them against noisy opposition. From time to time he would essay reform, abandon it, and take it up again only to let it fall, until he had taught even the most ignorant that the state of France was deplorable, but that they must not expect from the King any adequate improvement. No bigot, no tyrant, no shameless debauchee, ever educated his people to revolt more effectively than this sensible, well-meaning, and kindly King.

The mere accession of a young and amiable pair in place of a

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widowed old profligate naturally called forth a loyal emotion, which was strengthened by the first events of the new reign. Louis found the public impatient for a change in the conduct of affairs, which he was quite willing to make. Louis XV had done nothing since the close of the Seven Years’ War to efface the memory of its disasters or to regain the. goodwill of the nation. His latest advisers, the Due d’Aiguillon, who bore a very bad character, the Abbe Terray, who as Controller- General bad been the author of a fresh bankruptcy, and Maupeou, who as Chancellor had abolished the Parlements and replaced them with a new- system of superior Courts, were all exceedingly unpopular. The King disliked these men and resolved to dismiss them, but without recalling Choiseul, whom they had driven from power, for Louis was jealous at least of the semblance of authority and did not mean to give himself a prime minister. He chose for first Minister the Comte de Maurepas. It was an unfortunate choice, for the sole merit of Maurepas was to have been brought into disgrace with the late King by Madame de Pompadour; and age had made him feeble without making him serious. With Maurepas Louis called to office Miromenil as Keeper of the Seals, Vergennes as Minister for Foreign Affairs, the Comte de St Germain as Minister for War, and Turgot as Minister of the Navy. Somewhat later Turgot became Controller-General, and Sartines took over the navy. Later still Malesherbes was named Minister of the King’s Household. All these ministers were respectable, and three of them were men of eminent worth.

The first appointments made by Louis were therefore welcomed by the best opinion in France. He gamod still louder applause by re­nouncing the so-called “gift of joyous accession” and “the girdle of the Queen,” commonly levied when a new sovereign came to the throne, and by promising in the edict of renunciation that henceforward frugality should prevail in the public expenditure and the claims of the public creditor should be fully satisfied. His intention in making this sacrifice was good, but its wisdom may be questioned. So long as there was a deficit the Treasury should not have parted with any source of revenue; and until the finances could be reformed as a whole it would have been better not to raise sanguine expectations. The recall of the Parlements and the suppression of the new Courts before the end of 1774 were also popular and also unwise. The Parlements had been but a feeble check upon tyranny; and their members, as lawyers, as privileged persons, and as traditional carpers at the royal will, were enemies of all compre­hensive reform. They were barely reinstated when they began to show their mischievous temper; and they must share with the Queen and the courtiers the blame of having defeated Turgot’s beneficent designs Yet Louis had perhaps no alternative. For it was scarcely possible to maintain the suppression of the Parlements when reversing his pre­decessor’s policy in other things; and public opinion, which in France

had almost become a match for the power of the Crown, insisted on their restoration.       ■

One capital point Louis had secured. He had found the Controller- General best fitted to reform the finances. This was now the all­essential reform. If it were once achieved the Crown would have gained an independence and a popularity which would render all subsequent reforms easy by comparison.

Turgot was forty-seven years of age. He came of a family long established in Normandy and respectable, though not noble. His father had held the office of Provost of the Merchants of Paris, the highest in the old municipal constitution of Paris. As the youngest of three brothers, of whom one was destined for the army and another for the law, Turgot was destined to take holy orders. He distinguished himself at the College of the Sorbonne, but he came to doubt the doctrines of the Catholic Church; and, although bis talent and character gave promise of high preferment, he was not one of those whom either the prospect of wealth and power or the more insidious temptation of doing good under false pretences could move to palter with his own integrity. As soon as his father’s death set him free, he gave up his studies for the Church and entered the public service. In 1761 he became Intendant of the Limousin, a post which he held for thirteen years, and in which he gave a fine example of the good that might have been accomplished in France by skilful and humane administration. From these duties he was called to take a place, and presently the most important place, in the government. Although his practical experience was considerable, the cast of his mind was essentially speculative. He had reflected long and deeply upon political and economic subjects and had come to conclusions in most respects resembling those of the physiocratic school. Like them he was no enemy of the royal authority. On the contrary, he thought that a monarch could have no interest in making bad laws and was a better agent of reform than popular assemblies, which decide according to their prejudices and so make abuses perpetual. Like the Physiocrats he considered that agriculture was the only industry which produced a real surplus, and that all taxes must in the last resort come out of agricultural produce, and therefore thought a single tax upon land the best way of raising a revenue and all indirect taxation mischievous. Like them he believed absolute freedom of production and distribution to be the best, indeed the only means of ensuring the public welfare. But he would not proclaim himself a Physiocrat, for the Physiocrats were a sect, and he regarded the sectarian spirit as mischievous.

He was one of the simplest and most disinterested of men. His tastes and habits were studious, and it was only the hope of doing good which led him to accept office. With a deep pity for the poor and oppressed he joined a masculine sense of justice. In all his reforms he was careful that none should suffer undeservedly and that all legal

rights should be recognised. As a statesman he had some failings. His zeal led him to attempt too much, and his systematic turn of mind disqualified him for managing men. Ignorance of the low ways of the world left him open to cabal and intrigue. A cold and self-contained manner chilled the ardour of friends and deepened the ill-will of enemies. He studied perfection more than despatch. He spent infinite pains upon the preambles to the edicts which Louis put forth at his suggestion. They are admirable justifications of his policy, but we may doubt whether they had on the public any effect proportioned to his labour. Sometimes their language was positively indiscreet. The abuses which he attacked were flagrant enough to draw the severest condemnation from a good and wise man; but a Minister of the Crown, speaking in his public character, was scarcely justified in denunciations so vehement as some that may be found in these preambles. He hoped, doubtless, to make the return to evil impossible. He only hastened the descent to revolution.

In a very able letter addressed to the King on taking office Turgot explained the principles on which he should feel bound to- act. They were:—No bankruptcy, no new taxes, no loans. The deficit was to be made good by rigorous thrift. He warned the King that frugality would not be easy, and that he expected to bear all the odium of it without assistance. He gained the King’s consent to a new rule that the heads of the different departments should incur no expense without consulting the Controller-General, and that the amounts appropriated to the different services should never be exceeded. He suppressed the so-called ordonnances de comptani. whereby the sovereign or the Controller-General had formerly authorised disbursements which never appeared in the public accounts. He put an end to the practice of forcing favoured persons as partners upon the capitalists who farmed the indirect revenues and were thus reduced to drive a more unfavourable bargain with the Treasury. He nobly refused the commission which the Farmers-General had paid to his predecessors. Finally he abolished several thousands of useless offices in the financial administration, but with his invariable honesty took steps to reimburse to the holders what they had paid for their places.

While he thus sought to lessen the waste of public money he tried all fair means of adding to the revenue. Many rich persons had defrauded the Crown by evading or resisting inspection of their carriages and waggons at the barriers of Paris. Turgot checked this outrage by a severe ordinance, inflicting fine, imprisonment, and con­fiscation of the goods thus withdrawn from payment. The State had granted, on disadvantageous conditions, a monopoly for making gun­powder; Turgot availed himself of the grantee’s neglect to fulfil his part, cancelled the contract, and took the monopoly into the hands of the government. He dealt in the same fashion with the monopoly of the

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Removal of trade restrictions.

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Messageries for running diligences and post-carriages. He introduced new order and method into every part of the financial administration. By all these means he effected a remarkable improvement. At the untimely close of his ministry he had already reduced the deficit and the anticipations of future revenue to a small amount, and had so raised the credit of the State that he had obtained from Dutch capitalists a loan of sixty million livres at 4 per cent, to pay off debts which his predecessor had borrowed at thrice that rate.

This improvement was in Turgot’s design the preliminary to the relief of the taxpayers, especially of the peasants. He could not yet remit taxes, but he could amend the mode of collection. He abolished the rule whereby all the inhabitants of a commune were jointly responsible for the taille, a rule by which many of the most substantial peasants were ruined every year. He transformed the corvie of transport for military purposes into a money payment. He abolished the corvie for making and repairing roads, and replaced it by a tax on all landed proprietors. As the revenue improved, he suppressed or reduced a number of petty indirect taxes, which tended either to make the necessaries of life dearer or to hinder commerce and industry. But the taxpayer might also be relieved by allowing him to use all his energies to enrich himself; and Turgot, we have said, believed in absolute economic freedom. He therefore restored free trade in com. The State had hampered the com trade in the most singular ways, by hindering merchants and farmers from keeping large stocks in hand, by forbidding exportation, and by setting a maximum price, while the Parlements had interfered in time of scarcity to keep com within the limits of their respective jurisdictions. The intention had been to ensure food to the people, but the effect had been to discourage corn-growing, to bring about a large importation, and to deepen the misery of bad years. The system had long been denounced by the Physiocrats and had been partly abolished under Louis XV, only to be restored after one or two short harvests. By an edict of September, 1774, Turgot gave complete liberty to the com trade. Again the harvest was bad, and again the cry was raised that free trade in com meant starvation to the people. Riots ensued, and the Parlement of Paris protested against the Controller-General’s innovations. But Turgot still had an ascendancy over Louis. The riots were put down and the Parlement silenced.

A little while before the end of his administration Turgot gave like freedom to the wine trade by cancelling all prohibitions against the sale in any part of the kingdom of wine grown in any other part. This reform was maintained after he had been driven from power and most of his work had been undone. But the public took more heed of another application of the same principle, the famous edict which suppressed the privileges of the gilds, leaving every man free to earn his livelihood in the way he thought best. Turgot was now preparing to remodel taxation

86    Schemes for provincial government. [1774-6

on physiocratic maxims, to reduce indirect taxes and make direct taxes uniform. He was not allowed time to do this. But before he left office he gave Erench commerce a valuable auxiliary by founding the Caisse d'Escompte. Since Law’s ambitious scheme had ended in ruin, France had remained without a national bank, and the very name was Unpopular, although the thing would have been useful. Turgot now authorised a joint-stock association to form the Caisse which should discount commercial paper, receive deposits, make advances, trade in bullion, and issue notes payable on presentation. Out of a capital of 15,000,000 livres two-thuds were to be advanced to the Treasury and repaid in yearly instalments of 1,000,000; but this obligation was afterwards remitted.

Turgot did not limit his projects to economic reform. The scheme for a system of municipal assemblies covering the whole of France, which his friend Dupont of Nemours drew up under his instruction, although never presented to the King, remains an interesting record of his political principles. An elective assembly in each parish was to send representatives to a higher assembly in the Canton, which was in turn to send representatives to a provincial assembly, and this finally was to send representatives to a general assembly for the whole kingdom. The franchise was to be reserved to persons holding land of the value of 600 livres and upwards; but no account was to be taken of the distinctions between the three Estates. The assemblies were not meant to have any legislative power, for Turgot, as has been said, distrusted parliamentary legislation. The parish assembly had no other function than electing deputies to the cantonal assembly. The assemblies of higher rank were to administer and advise, concerning themselves especially with public works and the assessment of taxation. By means of these graded assemblies Turgot hoped to ensure the fullest knowledge of details to the sovereign and the ministers, to call forth such a sense of duty to the commonwealth that the government would no longer be regarded by the subject as an enemy, and to form such a bond of union between men of all three Estates as might render possible a uniform taxation irrespective of privilege. Had the experiment been tried, the assemblies might have proved very useful, but it seems unlikely that they would have kept within the limits traced by Turgot or left the Crown an unfettered right of legislation. Turgot was aware that the execution of his scheme would lessen the royal authority, although his speculative bias hindered him perhaps from noting the rise of democratic sentiment in France.

We now approach the period of Turgot’s fall from power. He had done much good and had earned the applause of his wisest countrymen, but he had made many enemies, and his tenure of office rested on his ascendancy over the young, inexperienced, irresolute King. The first shock to that ascendancy was the restoration of the Parlements. Turgot must have feared and distrusted these bodies, but he probably thought

it hopeless to prevent their return. His friend Malesherbes wished the King to summon the States General, a step which would have reduced the Parlements to insignificance. But so long a time had passed since the meeting of the Estates that the experiment might well be con­sidered perilous. Besides, a medieval assembly like the States General may have seemed to Turgot likely to be as troublesome as the Parlements. He therefore contented himself with taking some steps to lessen their power of obstruction, and prevailed with the King to quash their resistance to the freedom of trade in corn. He then brought Malesherbes into the government as Minister of the King’s Household. Malesherbes was known as an advocate of impartial taxa­tion, religious freedom, and the abolition of lettres de cachet, while his high character and attainments promised new strength to the adminis­tration. But he was a sensitive, fastidious man, indifferent to power and averse from conflict, though he lived to display in far darker times the serene courage of a philosopher. The Parlements were still hostile. The Parlement of Paris ordered the suppression of a pamphlet by Voltaire in favour of Turgot and free trade in com, and of another pamphlet by Boncerf against feudal rights. They next showed a desire to oppose the edicts for the suppression of the corvee and of the exclusive privileges of the gilds. Still Louis upheld his Minister. He summoned the Parlement to Versailles, held a “ lit de justice ” on March 12, 1776, and enforced registration of the edicts. But other enemies were gathering round Turgot. The clergy had long disapproved of his tolerance, especially of his endeavour to make the King omit that part of the coronation oath which bound him to exterminate heretics; and in September, 1775, their .assembly had warned the King against such specious errors. All the interests which Turgot had alarmed, the bulk of the privileged nobles and citizens, the courtiers who disliked honesty in dispensing public money, and at their head the Queen and the King’s brothers, conspired against Turgot. His well-known views as to the injurious nature of feudal rights having encouraged an agitation against them in some Provinces, the Parlement of Paris seized the occasion to make a decree enjoining the punctual discharge of feudal liabilities. Turgot, understanding the challenge, asked the King to cancel the decree; but the King refused. Maurepas now ceased to support Turgot, and Miromenil opposed him openly. The Queen, incensed by the recall of her friend the Comte de Guines, ambassador in London, on the joint request of Vergennes and Turgot, broke loose from the restraining influence of the Austrian ambassador, and did all she could to overturn the Controller-General. Malesherbes now resigned. “ How happy you are ! ” said poor Louis ; “ why cannot I also quit my place ? ” But he could make no head against the clamour of almost all who had his respect or affection. The enemies of Turgot proposed an obscure person named Amelot for the place of Minister to the Household. Turgot wrote

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several letters to the King, injudicious although prophetic. “It was weak­ness, Sire, which laid the head of Charles I on the block.” In his despite Amelot was appointed to succeed Malesherbes; the Comte de Guines was raised to ducal rank; and on May 12,1776, Turgot received his dismissal.

So ended the power of the most illustrious Controller-General who had held the office since the death of Colbert. Turgot had made mistakes; he had tried to do too much at once; he had been wanting in tact and flexibility; and he had refused to urge the calling of the States General. Louis was probably glad to be at peace once more; and all whose interests were contrary to the interest of the commonwealth rejoiced. But a much greater number who could not make their voice heard were sad, and the friends of progress who had hailed the young King as a reformer saw their mistake. Louis meant well, but he was unequal to his task; and the feeling slowly grew that a radical reform must be the work of the nation.

Turgot had not been the only reforming minister. Malesherbes as Minister of the Royal Household had visited the State prisons, had released a great number of prisoners detained by lettres de cachet on what appeared to be trivial grounds, and had been sparing beyond example in the issue of these odious warrants which he sincerely dis­approved. The Comte de St Germain had tried to render the French army once more efficient. He took as his model the Prussian army, generally allowed since the Seven Years⁷ War to be the best in Europe, and copied the Prussian system, not without pedantry. By introducing the austere subordination, the precise' discharge of duty, and the elabo­rate drill of Prussia, he offended all ranks of the service. The common soldiers were outraged by a rule which authorised the officers to strike them with the flat of the sword, a rule accepted in Prussia, where the bulk of the privates were of servile origin, but abhorrent in France, where a sense of dignity had spread far beyond the class of gentlemen. The nobles were incensed by the suppression of several of the ornamental Household regiments, and of many agreeable sinecures. When St Germain’s opponents became formidable he was abandoned by Maurepas as Turgot had been abandoned in a similar situation. He kept his place until 1777, and some of the changes which he had made were lasting; but the chief result of his labours was to further that dis­affection among the troops which broke out in the early period of the Revolution.

On Turgot’s dismissal the place of Controller-General was given to Clugny de Nuis, whose brief administration was notable only for the revival of most of the abuses which Turgot had destroyed. The corvie was again imposed on the peasants; the com trade again put under restraint; the privileges of the gilds restored with some mitigations; even the corrupt practices in reference to the farming of the taxes were revived. Clugny’s ingenuity was seen only in the establishment of a royal

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lottery; but he died in October, 1776, and it became needful to find an abler minister, for a war with England seemed probable. The French had hailed with natural joy the dispute between England and her American colonies; and when the first blood was shed in 1775, still more when the colonists proclaimed their independence in 1776, many Frenchmen felt that the time had come to avenge the loss of Canada. The colonists were aware of this disposition and tried to take advantage of it; but the French government was slow in deciding. It could not be seriously alleged that France had received any real injury from England. Louis was by nature the most peaceable of all the long Capetian line. We may safely assert that he did not consider taxation without representation sufficient ground for revolt, and that he did consider rebels as wrongdoers. Indeed Bertrand de Molleville assures us that his final resolution to attack England caused him much remorse in later years. The disasters of the Seven Years’ War were still recent; and the French navy, in spite of all that had been done to strengthen it, and of probable assistance from Spain, seemed an unequal match for the navy of England. Turgot had resisted war as ruinous to his plans of financial reform, and unnecessary since the colonies even though unaided were sure to become independent. The King and Maurepas had agreed, and had resolved merely to help the colonists in secret; but the pressure of public opinion and the wish to be ready for all emergencies led to costly preparations. Maurepas therefore proposed to divide the functions of the Controller-General, assigning the administrative part to a certain Taboureau, and the purely financial business to the celebrated Necker.

Necker, so long believed by himself and the public to be a reformer equal to Turgot, was a native of Geneva, a Protestant, and a banker. He had made a large fortune—partly, gossip said, by manoeuvres such as men of the world judge very leniently; and he had frequently engaged in transactions with the French Treasury. He was really an excellent man of business, who mistook himself for a genius in finance. He had expressed opinions at variance with the physiocratic doctrine in a panegyric on Colbert, crowned by the, Academy. In particular he demurred to the absolute freedom of the com trade, and had gained a prodigious success by publishing a book on the subject at the very time when the oppo­sition to Turgot was gathering its forces. He had confirmed the repu­tation thus won by a series of memoirs on financial topics, submitted to the King and Maurepas. But, highly as he was esteemed and much as his help was desired, his religion debarred him from the title of Controller-General. He therefore received the style of Director of the Treasury, October 22, 1776, and after Taboureau’s retirement that of Director-General of Finances, although from the first he enjoyed all the real authority of a Controller-General.

Necker was quite competent to work a good system well. Not

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Necker's administration.

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only was he versed in business, frugal, and laborious, but he was upright, nay, nobly generous as a public servant, for he refused to draw his ample salary. He shared the humane spirit of the age, he was anxious to do good and still more anxious to gain honour. But Necker possessed neither the highest talent nor the highest virtue. He was not a statesman with large and coherent views; he lacked the courage to speak unpalatable truths; he never clearly perceived the change that was passing over France, or rose to the real demands of the dangerous time in which he lived. He thought too much of his own spotless reputation and too little of saving the State; he was eminently vain and self-conscious, and blended with his genuine good qualities something which we are occasionally tempted to describe as charlatanism.

Upon taking office Necker had still to meet an annual deficit of not less than 24,000,000 livres, and to provide for the growing expense of warlike preparation. Circumstances thus imposed an economy agreeable to his own instincts. He therefore entered on a series of reforms. The expenses of the Court, which amounted to a twelfth of the total expenditure in time of peace, were the most palpable and frivolous, and the most unpopular part of the whole, and therefore that which most ob­viously called for retrenchment. Necker steadily opposed grants of favours and pensions, persuaded the King to approve the suppression of many ornamental but useless offices, and introduced various economies of detail into the royal housekeeping. The Queen, who did not relish these changes, often resisted Necker, and sometimes extorted favours for her friends against his will; but on the whole he was steadily supported by the King. Necker also suppressed many of the useless offices in the financial administration and simplified its mechanism. Here too the interested parties raised an outcry, and found spokesmen in the King’s brothers and the Duke of Orleans; and here too the King held firm. Necker tried to regulate the grant of pensions which had hitherto been given on no fixed or rational principles. All demands for pensions were to be reserved for consideration at a certain time in each year; a list of pensions expired and pensions conferred was to be drawn up every year for the Minister, so that he might restrict the new charges to the amount of the old ones extinguished; and steps were taken to secure punctual payment, hitherto grossly neglected. These regulations were sensible, but could not uproot the evil consequences of the absolute discretion enjoyed by the King with regard to pensions.

Necker also tried to make the fiscal system more profitable to the Crown and less onerous to the subject. The system of farming the indirect taxes was more and more clearly seen to be wasteful; but it could not be suppressed until the government had a large balance in hand, a thing hardly to be hoped in time of peace, and in time of war impossible. When the farm of the indirect taxes was renewed in 1780, Nccker contented himself with taking the aides and some other impositions

into the hands of the Treasury, reducing the number of the Farmers- General, making a much more advantageous bargain with those who were left, and again suppressing the unjust favours which persons at Court extorted on these occasions. He wished to amend the gabelle on salt, but did not venture to meet the opposition of the favoured Provinces. He suppressed that part of the vingtiemes which was paid by the industrial and commercial classes in the country districts, and made various small improvements in the collection of the taille.

Necker essayed other reforms which were not merely financial, and began the establishment of provincial assemblies, that were to share in the administration and to point out abuses. At first Necker merely suggested to the King that, by way of experiment, a single assembly of this kind should be set up in the province of Berry. It recognised the distinction between the three Estates; but the Third Estate had as many representatives as the clergy and nobles together, and all deliberated and voted in common. The members were not elected, but appointed by the government; and the powers of the assembly were narrowly defined, as Necker was not prepared to suppress the authority of the Intendant and his staff. Thus the new assembly resembled the old provincial Estates rather than the municipalities conceivcd by Turgot. Even this small concession to self-government proved so beneficial that in the following year Necker created two more assemblies of the same class in the generalites of Grenoble and Montauban respectively.

Necker also gave freedom to the last serfs on the royal domain and tried to assist enfranchisement elsewhere; but he lost the occasion of a notable reform by not enacting a general emancipation. He relaxed, but again did not abolish, the irritating rules which forced manufacturers of cloth and other commodities to make them of certain sizes and descriptions. He declared the many tolls throughout the kingdom held by private persons or by corporations redeemable, and promised that the Crown would begin their redemption at the return of peace. All these reforms showed good sense and good intentions, but they all betrayed a certain timidity and inability to conceive large designs. Yet if we blame Turgot for trying to do too much good at once, it seems unfair to blame Necker for trying to do good piecemeal.

Not all that Necker did to replenish the Treasury could countervail what was lost by the American war. The news of Burgoyne’s surrender at Saratoga in October, 1777, gave the French government courage to promise that open help which the colonists had long implored, and to conclude a formal treaty with them in 1778. In the ensuing war with England France had nothing to fear on the side of the Continent. Spain first, then Holland, and finally the Baltic Powers, either allied themselves with France or threatened to break with England. Accordingly France was. on the whole successful. The naval supremacy of England was broken down. During three successive years the

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Effects of the American war.

[1776-83

combined French and Spanish fleets swept the Channel, drove the English into their harbours, and kept Great Britain and Ireland in fear of invasion. In the Mediterranean Minorca fell, and Gibraltar seemed about to fall. In the Indian waters the French maintained a more than equal conflict with the English squadron. Beyond the Atlantic Cornwallis was isolated at Yorktown, and his surrender ensured the independence of the colonies. Ireland clamoured for free trade and legislative equality. Although one or two glorious feats of arms enabled Great Britain to make peace on better terms than at one time seemed possible, the national spirit had fallen very low, and the most dis­passionate Englishmen often spoke as though their country was undone, or at least had for ever sunk from the dignity of a great Power. In none of the many wars waged between England and France has France gained so many successes and inflicted so much injury as in the war which severed the American colonies from the mother-country.

Thus the dishonour of the House of Bourbon and the losses of France in the Seven Years’ War were signally avenged. The war had been most popular in France. As it was unnecessary to raise large armies, the cost in French lives had not been great; and, as Necker had undertaken to defray the whole expense by loans, the taxpayer had felt no hardship, nay, had been enriched by the artificial energy which many industries derive from war. Yet in a few years England was seen to be greater and more formidable than ever, and the French monarchy was shown to have received a mortal wound. The war made almost impossible the reform of the finances, the first condition of all other reform. Thenceforwards another national insolvency was imminent, and the endeavour to shun it ended in revolution. A mighty impulse to democratic ideas was involved in assisting the Americans, whose prime grievance was that they had been taxed without their own consent. The American colonies were, if we except one or two small Swiss Cantons, the most democratic societies of that age. The Frenchmen who came to their help observed among them an equality of conditions and a general well-being, due chiefly to the inexhaustible resources of a new continent, but not the less striking. The Americans, in their Declara­tion of Independence, spoke a language of abstract philosophy more intelligible to Frenchmen than the traditional lore of English patriots. The Americans asserted, sword in hand, maxims which in France had been proclaimed loudly in drawing-rooms but scarcely whispered in the market-place. The blunt ways of the Americans, their simple though plentiful mode of life, their active and out-of-door occupations, made them appear to the heated French fancy a commonwealth of philosophers or of antique heroes like Cincinnatus and Aristides, or possibly of natural men wise and virtuous and therefore free and happy, as man was everywhere until he had been debased by civilisation. Thus many of the French auxiliaries, among whom Lafayette was the most eminent,

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returned to France, feeling that they had seen in practice beyond the ocean what at home they had only read of in books. A people had proved able to declare itself free, to give itself a constitution, to shape its own destinies, and all this without returning to anarchy or even undergoing any dangerous convulsion. And when Frenchmen saw in succeeding years how their own ancient polity was failing, and how a sovereign deemed absolute could remedy few of those evils which he had himself condemned, they perceived no reason why their own nation should not do what the Americans had done, and regenerate France in a constituent assembly.

The events of the American war have been recorded elsewhere. But we must not pass over the means by which Necker met the cost of the war. He knew the faults of the fiscal system, was unwilling to enhance the distress of the poor, and overrated the power of credit. He therefore imposed no fresh burdens, save that he prolonged to 1790 some few taxes which would otherwise have expired in 1780. He trusted to borrowing; and his own financial skill and business connexions, as well as the general success of the French arms, enabled him to borrow great sums, although upon terms which we should not think favourable. Owing to the confusion of the French finances, it is impossible to state with any assurance the total amount of the loans which he contracted. The American war is supposed to have cost France nearly <£*50,000,000; but it went on for some time after Necker’s dismissal, and the payment of expenses went on for some time after the war ended. Gomel supposes that Necker borrowed in all about 530,000,000 livres, of which

200,000,000 went to cover annual deficits and the rest in strictly military expenses. He floated his loans by representations of the state of the royal finances so flattering that charity can hardly suppose him to have believed them himself. He used, as had sometimes been done before, the credit of the pays cTetats, of the city of Paris, and of the Order of the Holy Ghost, and he induced the clergy to lend 14,000,000 livres, repay­able by annual instalments of 1,000,000. As he would impose no new taxes, he could not properly provide either for interest or for a sinking fund. And as the public was not likely to endure in peace heavier taxation than it had borne in war, we must allow that Necker prepared a grievous embarrassment for his successors and hastened the overthrow of the French monarchy.

Necker’s fall from office was due to an innovation more daring than any which we have yet mentioned. Secrecy, it has been said, was the rule of the French administration; and, although the number of persons who concerned themselves with public affairs was always increasing, very little was really known about any of the departments of public business. In the finances the lack of order and method was such that even the King and the Controller-General were without exact information upon all points of consequence. It is not surprising that

94

Necher's Compte Rendu au Roi. [i78i

the notions entertained by the public should have been vague, or that the evils of the actual system, great as they were, should have been magnified in gossip. Necker resolved to interest the people in the finances. With the royal permission and the consent of Maurepas he put forth in 1781 his Compte Rendu au Roi, a voluminous and particular statement of national revenue and expenditure. It is true that the wish to please and be admired, so potent a weakness in men of Necker’s temperament, led him to draw an unfaithful picture, and without telling absolute falsehoods to make a false impression. Instead of showing what had been raised and spent in the actual state of war, he drew an imaginary picture of revenue and expenditure in a normal state of affairs: that is, in time of peace. Although hte said much about the imperfections of French finance, so as to heighten the merit of recent reforms which were fully described, he professed to show the existence of a surplus which had never existed in the eighteenth century. Great was the satisfaction of intelligent Frenchmen to find the national resources so ample; greater the enthusiasm called forth by the sensibility which Necker diffused through this as through all his other writings and speeches; greatest of all the admiration felt for a Minister who had dared to enlighten the people because he had no motive for keeping the people in ignorance.

Not such were the feelings of Maurepas. Although he had consented to the publication of the Account, he had not reckoned on the general emotion which it produced, and he felt jealous, of Necker’s mounting fame and influence. Necker understood that a cabal was forming against him, and believed that Sartines, the minister for naval affairs, was a ringleader. He therefore entered into an alliance with the Queen’s friends, also hostile to Sartines, and urged the King to replace him by de Castries. Under the impression that Maurepas desired this change, Louis consented, and was displeased to find that Maurepas was adverse. Maurepas now became more openly hostile and employed against Necker such devices as prompting others to carp at the Account,, and betraying to members of the Parlement of Paris a memoir drawn up by Necker for the King on the subject of the Provincial Assemblies, in which the conduct of the Parliaments had been severely censured. The Parlement therefore refused to register a decree for the formation of a Provincial Assembly in the Boulonnais, but had to submit on finding that the King still supported Necker. Exalted by this success, Necker sought to obtain a seat in Council with the style of Minister of State, honours hitherto withheld on account of his religion; and, although his friends warned him to be prudent, he declared that he would resign if his wishes were not granted. When Maurepas assured the King that Necker’s admission to the Council would be followed by the resignation of the other Ministers, Louis, against his own wish, and even against the wish of Marie-Antoinette, accepted Necker’s resignation on May 19, 1781.

We have seen that Necker was immeasurably inferior to Turgot, and

that his administration in some respects deserved the severest blame. Yet it was a mistake in Louis to part with Necker. For Necker was a reformer according to his powers; and his retirement before the enmity of the futile Maurepas was a scandal to public opinion. Necker, even more than Choiseul, was escorted home by the nation. His country- house became a court whither all who wished to be thought enlightened, humane, and lovers of virtue divorced from power, thronged to pay their respects. Many nobles came to wait on the banker, and even the Archbishop of Paris and other prelates paid formal visits to the Calvinist. Necker was not indeed the wiser or the happier for this homage, which confirmed his too flattering estimate of his own qualifications. But Louis had a second time thrown away that power which public opinion alone can give, and which a wiser sovereign could have turned to such good account for himself and his kingdom.

There now ensued a second reaction. The King left to Maurepas the choice of a Controller-General; and Maurepas, who by this time had a settled distaste for the pretentious and troublesome persons known as reformers, fixed upon a dull and respectable veteran, Joly de Fleury, who, we are assured, never lost an opportunity of lamenting the diffusion of enlightenment. Fleury held office from June of 1781 to March of 1783. But he and Maurepas thought it necessary to bruit abroad that they would follow in the footsteps of Necker. Fleury found that the surplus implied in the Account did not exist even in time of peace, and imparted the fact to Louis, who now first began to feel that dislike of Necker which afterwards became a fixed prejudice. As France was still at war, large sums had to be raised; but the financiers did not extend to Fleury the confidence which they had placed in Necker, and, as borrowing was difficult, new taxes were inevitable. A third vingtieme was imposed in July, 1782. Then the Parlement protested, declaring that the taxpayer could pay no more and that the public money was squandered. It repeated these complaints even in the act of registering the edicts for fresh taxation. The Parlement of Besan^on made a like remonstrance. Although a deputation of that body was summoned to Versailles to hear a reprimand from the King’s lips, they had scarcely returned to Besanipon when the incorrigible Parlement demanded the convocation of the States General. The demand was little noticed at the time, but it was not lost. It is true that the Parlements had spoken without discernment, and that the war made new taxes the least of evils. Yet the feeble sovereign and unwise Minister gave way and ventured on no further taxation. Instead, Joly de Fleury resorted to the worst of all the traditional resources,. making and selling a number of useless offices, especially in the financial department.

The reaction was felt in other ways. A regulation dated May 22, 1781, and passed against the will of Segur, then Minister of War, required sixteen quarters of nobility for all officers in the army, thus

96

A Coimdl of Finance.

[l781—3

enhancing an unjust privilege at the very time when all privileges were more and more called in question. With similar blindness the Parle­ments reserved their best places for persons of at least two degrees of nobility. In many parts of France the seigneurs became unusually active in enforcing obsolete or doubtful manorial rights. The clergy gained a recognition of their claim to tithe certain crops lately intro­duced, such as lucerne and potatoes. But when the parish priests represented: the meagreness of their livelihood they were silenced by the government. Maurepas having died in November, 1781, the King leant chiefly upon Vergennes, an able man and a master in foreign policy, but little acquainted with finance or administration. The signing of the preliminaries of peace in January, 1783, was more welcome to the nation than to the Controller-General, who knew that he was expected to remit taxes which he could not spare, considering the enormous growth of the debt. Fearing to suffer for his own weakness and his predecessor’s, he induced the King to set up a Council of Finance, With the Controller- General as president, the other councillors being Vergennes and Miromenil, the latter of wh om, as Keeper, would have to overbear the resistance of the Parlements. Such a council might have done good in devising ways of retrenchment, but the other Ministers, especially Segur and Castries, bought it humiliating thati a new authority should be interposed between the King and themselves, while the courtiers viewed it as a hindrance to designs upon the Treasury. A strong cabal was formed against Fleury, who found that he no longer possessed the King’s con­fidence, and resigned in March, 1783.

Fleury was succeeded by Lefevre d’Ormesson, an honest and industrious man, but unequal to so perplexed a state of affairs. He feared to lay fresh taxes on the people, and hoped that with the return of peace borrowing and retrenchment might suffice. When he applied to his colleagues for an account of the financial position of their several depart­ments and suggestions for economies, they took no notice of his request. Thus ended d’Ormesson’s hope of reducing expenses. The State was in fact without a head, for Louis would neither act as master himself nor uphold the authority of his Ministers. Driven to despair, d’Ormesson negotiated a secret advance from the Caisse (TEscompte, the first of a series of transactions which ruined the Caisse without saving the govern­ment. Before long a crisis forded the Caisse to call for its money, which the Crown could not repay, so that it had to obtain a royaJ decree suspending cash payments. Thus d’Ormesson was thrown back, upon borrowing in the open market, and having filled up the measure of his discredit by other faults he retired in November, 1783.

The definitive treaty of peace had been signed on September 3,1783. But the effects of the course taken to raise money during the war remained. The state of the Treasury was worse than at any previous period of the reign, while the Crown had lost the confidence of the

nation. It was so necessary to have an able and daring Controller- General that the King bestowed the office on Charles-Alexandre de Calonne. Calonne remained Controller-General for three years and a half, during which time he did more than any of his predecessors to hasten the Revolution.

He could already number many years in the public service. He had been Intendant of Metz and afterwards of Lille, and had long been looking for the preferment which he now received. He was a courtly, engaging personage, eloquent, sanguine, open to large ideas, fertile in bold expedients, but incurably frivolous and unscrupulous. In private life a spendthrift and votary of pleasure, in public life anxious only to conciliate and astonish, he undertook, perhaps hoped, to set every­thing right without offending anybody. France, he had always said, possessed inexhaustible resources, and if the Crown were poor, it was only because the Ministers did not know their business; and the saying had just enough truth to be dangerous. By a lively attack upon Necker’s Compte Rendu Calonne had gratified Maurepas, although without gain’ng his patronage. He had, however, impressed many by his clever, daring talk; and even Vergennes was his friend and believed in his capacity. He could count upon the courtiers, who felt with unerring instinct that Calonne would not be morose about the public money. He had been pressed upon the King when Fleury retired, but the King disliked his character; and, as the Queen shared this dislike, Calonne was baulked of his ambition. But the resignation of d’Ormesson left the King without any resource if he would not recall Necker; and he therefore silenced his doubts and gave to Calonne what he had so eagerly desired.

The new Controller-General found the state of the Treasury far more alarming than he had supposed. He afterwards assured the Notables that when he entered on his office the annual deficit had risen to

80.000.000       livres, the revenue had been anticipated to the amount of

176.000.000     livres, and the outstanding debts of all kinds due by the government exceeded 300,000,000 livres. As the public had been kept in ignorance, and looked for a remission of taxes, it was impossible to meet these demands by new taxation. Retrenchment, according to Calonne, would have been equally perilous. For the government had need of all its credit, and credit can be kept up only by appearing to be rich. Calonne resolved neither to impose taxes nor to cut down expen­diture, but to win the confidence of the nation by showing unbounded confidence in himself, to borrow as recklessly in time of peace as Necker had borrowed in time of war, and to put his trust in the revival of business, the growth of prosperity, and the impetus given by a lavish outlay of the public money. His first measure was judicious. He recalled the decree suspending cash payments, reorganised the Caisse d'Escompte, and did his best to strengthen it in public opinion. His

98

A policy of loans and expenditure.

[1783-5

second measure was astute. He persuaded Louis to suppress the Council of Finance, thus freeing himself from the supervision of Vergennes, and gratifying the other Ministers who resented control. He then began the execution of his policy with a loan of 100,000,000 livres. He was thus enabled to make an apparent reform by paying punctually the dividends upon public securities which hitherto had been almost always in arrear. He gave out that he intended to abolish the internal customs-barriers which did such injury to commerce; but he never was in a position to make the immediate sacrifice required. The severe winter having caused much distress, he readily persuaded Louis to grant a large sum for relief, which was to be met by economies in the Court and Household. He reduced the duties on certain articles of common use, such as coffee and sugar. He set up a sinking-fund which, though modest in amount, was by the magical potency of compound interest to pay off the debt in a short period. He actually paid into this sinking-fund the appointed sums for

1785 and 1786, but then stopped for the vulgar reason that he had no money, and found that, notwithstanding all his ingenuity, a national debt can never be extinguished by borrowing even on the most audacious scale. He spent freely on useful public works, such as roads and harbours. He spent as freely in making friends at Court, gave to all who asked, paid the debts of the King’s brothers, and enabled the King himself to buy Rambouillet and St Cloud, A fine harvest in 1784, and the expansion of commerce and industry owing to the peace, seemed to justify Calonne’s hopes; but his policy left him always in distress, and he had to renew the practice of creating and selling offices. By September, 1784, he was forced to issue another loan of 125,000,000 livres, alleging that it was needed to cover liabilities incurred in the late war, and promising various reforms in the incidence and collection of the taxes. But the Parlement, which had always distrusted Calonne, now took alarm, demurred to registering the edict for the loan, and presented a remonstrance to the King upon the growth of the public debt. Since his accession, it said, 1,200,000,000 livres had been borrowed, and part at least of the recent loans had been wasted. Louis insisted on registration and the Parlement gave way. Although the loan was nominally issued at 5 per cent., the advantages given to subscribers brought the real return up to 8 per cent., a rate so tempting that the whole was speedily subscribed.

In January, 1785, just as the public were beginning to feel somewhat anxious about the effects of Calonne’s policy, there appeared, without the royal warrant, a new work by Necker, entitled The Administration of the Finances of France. It contained much indirect praise of the author and blame of his successors, a description of the faults of the French financial system, and some remarks and proposals for improvement, usually of the most cautious character, for, even now, Necker did not contemplate the suppression of privilege in taxation. He still assumed

that the revenue balanced expenditure, and that the financial state of the kingdom was sound. Whatever the defects of the book, its success was amazing. Bulky as it was, nearly twelve thousand copies were sold in the first month, and in March a second edition was sold off. As the actual deficit at this time amounted to 100,000,000 livres a year, Necker had made it yet more difficult for Calonne ever to disclose the real condition of the Treasury; and for this and for other reasons Calonne, resenting the publication, obtained a royal order exiling Necker from Paris. But this only gave fresh credit to the author and brought deeper suspicion on the Minister. Meanwhile Calonne continued to play his desperate game. He announced further measures for the relief of distress in the country districts; he founded a new East India Company; he promulgated new rules about pensions, and took steps to abate stock­jobbing ; he gratified purists with a scheme for the payment of public creditors defrauded many years before by Terray, and gratified the courtiers as formerly by giving them everything they wanted.

But even Calonne had at length to own that these were makeshifts, and that a State cannot borrow for ever. Taxation must be made more productive; and, since the taxpayer could hardly be forced to pay more, exemptions must be abolished. Calonne thought therefore of taxing the clergy. He resolved to begin with an enquiry into the value of their possessions—an enquiry more than once meditated by former Ministers, but always baffled by clerical resistance. Here again his constant lack of ready money defeated a useful project. He had to demand from the Assembly of the clergy in 1785 an increase in their free contribution, and they in return obtained leave to reassemble in

1786 and a promise that nothing farther should be done till then. When the time came, they were able to stave off enquiry; and Calonne had to comfort himself with a larger scheme for the taxation of all privileged persons. Such was his happy disposition that whatever he knew to be desirable he imagined to be easy.

At the end of 1785 Calonne found it necessary to borrow again. He issued a loan of 80,000,000 livres and again overpowered the reluctance of the Parlement. The loan was introduced to the public with a flourishing statement of the financial position and an intimation that the sum now raised would be paid off in ten years. In 1786 Calonne gained his last successes : a favourable bargain with the Farmers-general and a commercial treaty with England. However empty the French Treasury, the French nation was at this time prosperous. Industry and commerce had thriven since the Peace of Versailles, and comfort and luxury were spreading. The wall lately built round Paris, so as to ensure payment on all commodities brought into the city, had swelled the proceeds of the octroi. Owing to these causes the yield of the indirect taxes had been increased; and Calonne was enabled to lease them for the largest sum yet known. The commercial treaty with England

was concluded in September. Such was the impulse given to trade between the two kingdoms that French imports into England increased in value from 31,000,000 livres before 1786 to 34,000,000 livres in 1787. Yet the treaty caused much discontent in some Provinces. For the French manufacturers, screened from all competition, were often inferior to their English rivals in machinery and in organisation, and were consequently at a disadvantage even in the home market. It was said also that French custom-house officers were lax as compared with English, so that English importers into France often evaded payment of duty, while French importers into England paid in full. Many of the cahiers of 1789 require that the commercial treaty with England should be denounced or at least modified.

Calonne’s experience only made him more reckless. As he could not venture on a new loan he now had recourse to expedients; and in September he actually procured a decree of Council ordering the city of Paris to raise 30,000,000 livres for improvements, to be lent to the State during the interval before the works were begun. The end was evidently at hand. Calonne was forced to begin the bitter task of enlightening his dupes, and first of all his sovereign. In August he made a full statement of the financial position to Louis, saying that when he took office he had found an enormous deficit, that he had vainly tried to make it good since, that the actual resources of the State were in­sufficient, and that all new taxation must be uniform, admitting of no exemption. He therefore proposed a general land-tax (subvention terri­toriale) and a stamp-tax. In order to gain the acquiescence of a disappointed and angry people, benefits would have to be conferred. Calonne therefore proposed that the corvee should be suppressed once more, that the internal customs-barriers should be removed, that the trade in com should be made free, and that elective assemblies with­out any distinction of Orders should be set up in all the Provinces. Thus the circle had been completed. In order to raise money Calonne proposed to enact once more the principal reforms executed or planned by Turgot and set aside after Turgot’s dismissal. Within a space of little more than ten years the policy of the State upon matters of the most vital consequence, matters affecting the welfare of millions, was to be reversed a second time, not because society had been transformed or because new enlightenment had been vouchsafed to Ministers, but merely because the circumstances of the moment made such a course seem opportune to those who misgoverned the kingdom.

Calonne knew that the reforms which he advised would be resisted by the Parlements, and he despaired of overcoming their obstinacy unless public opinion could be enlisted on the side of the Crown. He therefore proposed to convene a Council of Notables chosen by the King from the Three Estates of the realm, and to gain their approval of his schemes. Such Councils had been called in former times, but the

1786]

A Council of Notables summoned.

101

precedents were few and remote, and altogether at variance with that unqualified absolute power which Louis XIV had bequeathed t'o his descendants. To purchase the right of imposing new taxes by listening to the advice of subjects was to take the first step towards constitutional monarchy. In the actual temper of the public none could foresee what a Council of Notables might do, or what might be the consequences of its action. Almost any other King would have upbraided Calonne with his manifold deceptions, would have seen the risks inseparable from his project, and would have dismissed, even if he did not punish, a minister who had trifled away the last resources of the State. Louis acquiesced without a struggle. Calonne pressed for speed, and hoped to see his plan executed before the end of 1786. Vergennes and Miromenil, staunch upholders of the royal authority, disliked the proposal for convening the Notables, though they did not reject it, for they knew not what to propose instead. But they were opposed to haste, and they carried the King with them. Calonne was left to find ways and means for the interval. As the last loan had been taken up very slowly he would not issue another, but turned to the Caisse (TEscompte. The Caisse agreed to increase its capital to 80,000,000 livres and lend

70,000,000 to the Treasury. In return it received a monopoly of issuing notes for the next thirty years. Calonne struggled on till December, when he was forced to beg again for prompt action, and the King declared that he would convene the Notables within a month.

To us who look back upon the events that ensued this resolution appears big with momentous consequences. To Louis it seemed an escape from intolerable perplexity. He wrote to Calonne that he had not been able to sleep the night after his declaration, but that it was for pleasure. The public were less satisfied when it appeared from the terms of the summons that the Notables were convened merely to learn the King’s intentions, for they contended that the only object was to gain the semblance of national consent to new taxes. A few discerning men, however, like Lafayette, Mirabeau, and Bailly, saw that matters would not end there. Calonne was careless about ensuring the nomination of persons who were at least not his enemies. The composition of the assembly was singular if we consider the use which it was intended to serve. Out of a total of one hundred and forty-four, forty-six were Princes or nobles, eleven were clergymen, twelve were members of the Council, thirty-eight were magistrates of the supreme Courts, twelve were deputies of the pays d'etats, and twenty-five were municipal officers. Thus the representatives of the Third Estate were few, and mostly of that official class which shared many of the prejudices of the higher ranks. The First and Second Estates, so deeply concerned in the maintenance of privilege, and the magistracy, at bottom so conservative, formed an over­whelming majority. Calonne probably hoped thus to disarm his natural adversaries, more especially the Parlements. For the edicts approved

by the Notables would still need registration, and the Parlements would have the opportunity of contesting every reform a second time. The result showed how erroneous were the Minister’s calculations.

The actual meeting of the Notables was delayed by the illness and death of Vergennes. During the interval they remained idle in Paris, where they caught the spirit of discontent and criticism now general in the capital. Meantime Calonne behaved with his wonted frivolity. To the last he gave out that the finances were in excellent order and the debt in course of regular liquidation. He neglected to break the dis­appointment which he knew to be inevitable by taking some at least of the Notables into his confidence. Although he was about to propound a vast scheme of reform which would touch all the interests of a great people and require years for complete execution, he took no pains to formulate it until a few days before the session began. Not until the last week did he begin drafting the necessary papers. Talleyrand, who, though no expert in administration or finance, was employed by Calonne to draft the proposals regarding the com trade and to help in drawing up other parts of the programme, relates that Calonne did not send for him till February 14. On the 22nd the Notables met for the first time. During the previous five months Calonne had done nothing.

After the King had opened the proceedings, the Controller-General set forth the necessities of the State and the remedies which he had to offer. He told the Notables that there had always been a deficit; that it had been growing throughout the reign; that 1,250,000,000 livres had been borrowed in the last ten years, and that numerous sums were now due by the government to various creditors. He added that the existing taxes could not be made to yield more than at present, and that the only hope lay in the reform of abuses, particularly in the suppression of privileges. Then he announced the list of reforms. They included the formation of provincial assemblies, the imposition of a general land-tax and stamp-tax, the suppression of the vingtiemes and the corvee, the exemption of the nobles from the capitation, the reduction of the taille and the gabelle, the restoration of freedom to the com trade, the improvement of the revenue arising from the royal domain, and various economies in administration and expedients for reducing the debt. Some of these proposals could only serve to con­ciliate the privileged orders. Others were real reforms. But taken together they could not be executed without long and patient labour. Thus Calonne announced the establishment of a land-tax payable by all land-owners. The due assessment of such a tax throughout a great kingdom implied processes of surveying and valuation which must extend over years. The gain to the Treasury from the new taxes would be gradual, while its loss in the suppression or reduction of old taxes would be immediate. In the near future Calonne’s proposals would yield little; but it was in the near future that a generous growth of revenue was

needed, or rather it was needed at once. Even apart from their attach­ment to privilege, the Notables might well be surprised and angered by Calonne’s statement. They were still more provoked by the frank avowal that the King’s resolutions were fixed and that the Notables had only to devise the most suitable means for giving them effect. On the following day the Notables listened to the reports in which the several proposals of the government were explained at length. Then in obedience to the royal will they separated into seven bureaux, a Prince of the blood presiding over each, and proceeded to consider what they had heard. They were not long in raising many objections. They approved, indeed, the provincial assemblies, but demanded that they should be representative of the Three Estates. They criticised severely the project of a general land-tax. They called for accounts of public revenue and expenditure and insisted upon retrenchment. Calonne tried to overcome their ill-will in a conference with the presidents and select members of the bureaux. But, though he displayed an energy and an eloquence in strange contrast with his previous sloth, he could not cancel the effect of his disclosures or prevail upon the froward humour of the Notables. Weeks passed away ; the Notables remained in a very bad temper; and the public, although not admitted to their debates, applauded their obstinacy.

At length Calonne, impatient at the resistance he encountered and hoping to overbear it by stress of public opinion, published his speeches to the Notables and the statements drawn up for their use, with an intro­duction which insinuated that the privileged orders were selfishly hostile to a scheme which would at once supply the Treasury and relieve the people. He did not pause to think of the consequences of thus making public opinion a judge and divider over both King and Notables. Nor did he weigh the power of reprisal which the Notables possessed. They at once adopted a formal protest denying the insinuation and declaring that they thought themselves in duty bound to have some assurance that new taxes were necessary; that economy appeared to them the best means of restoring the finances; and that they had accordingly asked for full statements of revenue and expenditure which the Minister had obstinately withheld. As Louis allowed this protest to be published, it got abroad that he was wavering, while the public, already prejudiced against Calonne, received it with applause.

The Notables having adjourned over Easter, Calonne persuaded the King to dismiss Miromenil on the ground that he had instigated their opposition and to make Lamoignon Keeper of the Seals. He then went on to ask for the dismissal of the Baron de Breteuil, the Minister of the King’s Household, a personal friend of the Queen. Marie-Antoinette, who had always disliked Calonne, was now incensed against him and did her best to drive him from power. With the help of the Comte de Provence and other great persons she succeeded. The King, indifferent

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Lomenie de JSrienne.

[l787

to the Minister although resolved on his measures, tired and distracted and hoping to conciliate the Notables, gave way and dismissed Calonne on the very same day (April 8) on which he had dismissed Miromenil.

Thus for the third time in his short reign Louis had let himself be deprived of a Minister, who, whatever his faults of character, was undoubtedly able, and whom he could not immediately replace with any fit successor. He named de Fourqueux, a plain, respectable man, Controller-General; but he was quite unequal to the task of carrying out Calonne’s plans. Montmorin, who had succeeded Vergennes as Foreign Secretary, begged the King to send for Necker; but Louis had now taken a dislike to him which necessity alone could overcome. Necker published another pamphlet to refute Calonne’s statements to the Notables in so far as they reflected on his character. For this offence he was again exiled from Paris, a penalty which made him even more an idol than he had yet been. Louis himself convened the Notables for April 23, and made a judicious speech; but they, although affected, continued to press for further par ..culars Lafayette, who was one of the Notables, had expressed the opinion that they had no right to grant taxes, and this opinion began to gain ground among the rest. Thus time passed. Nothing was done; the Treasury sank daily into deeper penury; and Louis was overcome by the difficulties which met him in every direction. The Queen now insisted that the time required a skilful and popular minister. She suggested Lomenie de Brienne, Archbishop of Toulouse, who had distingu. bed himself as a member of the Estates of Languedoc and as one of the Notables. He was made, not Controller-General, but chief of the Council of Finance, the position formerly held by Maurepas and Vergennes. Fourqueux was put aside and replaced by another man equally obscure, Laurent de VilledeuiL Brienne had entreated the King to give him Necker for a colleague; but Louis, fixedly averse to Necker and only half awake to his own danger, .efused. Such was Brienne’s reputation that even the liberal and philo­sophic party applauded his appointment. But the last clerical Prime Minister of France had nothing great about him save his ambition, which was boundless. He failed to humour the Notables or to break the Parle­ments ; he made concessions which earned only contempt, and reforms which excited no gratitude; he left his master a King only in name, as bankrupt of authority as of revenue, and France in a condition scarcely to be distinguished from anarchy.

When he took office, he had first to consider what he should do with the Notables. While yet one of their number he had eagerly opposed Calonne’s scheme of reform, which as Minister he had to execute if it were possible. In a position so invidious he would perhaps have done well to dissolve the Assembly at once and try other expedients. Fearing to take this course he resolved to continue the session. By a lamentable story of the public needs and the promise of extensive economies, he

persuaded the Notables to approve a loan of 60,000,000 livres. But this was his only success. Although he stated the deficit at a higher figure than any given by Calonne, he could not get their approval for the land- tax or the stamp-tax. They still declared that they had no taxing power. Only one of their bureaux pronounced for the land-tax as a substitute for the vmgtiemes. Brienne therefore dissolved the Notables on May 25.

The Notables had done nothing, but their assembly had momentous results. The King had published his distress and yet had obtained no relief. He had once more explained to the nation how grossly it was misgoverned, had propounded a great plan of reform, had announced his unalterable purpose to execute it, and had then wavered before the opposition of an assembly which had no representative character or law­making power. The Notables had called for further information, had insisted on economy, had raised objections to all new taxes, and had ended by suggesting that only the nation had the right to tax. Those of the Notables who were not themselves courtiers went home, to spread in every part of France their antipathy to the Court and their contempt for the Ministers. From this time the deference for the Crown, formerly so profound in France, began to disappear. The King was still esteemed for his gentleness and good-will; but he was no longer thought competent to reform abuses. The Notables by their manifest unwillingness to give up privilege in taxation had also embittered the people against the First and Second Estates; and the belief became general that France must have a new constitution before the disorder of the finances could be redressed.

Freed from the Notables the Ministers had still to consider how they should deal with the Parlements. For they were still committed to Calonne’s list of reforms, and it was certain that some of these would be opposed by the Parlements, if only to keep up their tradition and to gain the popular applause. Lamoignon wished the King to enact all the reforms in a mass, and if necessary to enforce registration. But Brienne, already weary and disheartened, would not face a conflict; and Louis, always soft and hesitating, agreed with Brienne. It was resolved to enact the reforms part by part, beginning with those which were thought to be most generally acceptable. Three edicts, therefore— the first restoring freedom of trade in com, the second creating in all the pays d'election assemblies like those devised by Necker, and the third commuting the corvie into a money-tax—were presented to the Parle­ment and registered without a murmur. Then the ministers ventured to put forth a new edict imposing the stamp-tax. As all new taxes were unpopular, the Parlement at once began to oppose. It appointed a committee to examine the project and resolved to ask the King for details of public income and expenditure. The King returned a very mild answer. The public, especially in Paris, applauded the Parlement,

and the Parlement of Rouen echoed its protest. Still Brienne tem­porised, when in a sitting of July 19 a member of the Parlement, the Abbe Sabathier, used the memorable words, “It is not itats de finance (statements of accounts) that we want, it is jZtats GenerauxJ" This spark kindled a great fire. The Parlement at once drew up an address to the King, declaring that only the nation assembled in its States General could authorise a permanent tax. The address was coupled with fresh remonstrances as to the waste of public money and the need of thrift. The King and Ministers shunned a direct encounter, and presented for registration another edict imposing a general land-tax. Again the Parlement professed its inability, and demanded the meeting of the States General. Louis would have shown his high displeasure; but his Queen and Malesherbes, again a Minister, although without a portfolio, urged him to forbear. He therefore contented himself with holding a “lit de justice'" at Versailles on August 6, where d’Aligre, the President of the Parliament, and Seguier, the Advocate-General, in the strongest terms repeated their objections; but the edicts were perforce registered. Next day the Parlement met and declared the registration illegal and null. Still the Ministers wavered, while the people of Paris were wound up to the highest tension, and the King and Queen were reviled in outrageous terms. Brienne tried to make a diversion by announcing economies in the Household, but no man took any notice. The Parlement next ordered the prosecution of Calonne for misappropriating public money; and, though the Council annulled this order, Calonne fled to England. Then the Parlement repeated its censure of the enforced registration and its demand for the assembling of the States General. The public responded with a fresh burst of applause. Brienne and his colleagues now resolved to hanish the Parle­ment to Troyes. The Parlement went triumphantly into exile and riots broke out in Paris. The Chambre des Comptes and the Cour des Aides, which had taken the same tone as the Parlement, escaped with a gentle reprimand. The exiled magistrates continued their protests, which were echoed by the other Parlements, while the ministry, pressed on one side by want of funds, and on the other by public opinion, could not move forwards or backwards. It was of no avail that Louis bestowed on Brienne a fresh mark of confidence in the title of Principal Minister, which obliged his colleagues to prepare the business of their respective departments with him before submitting it to the King.

The course of foreign affairs helped to complete the discredit of the Ministers. In the United Provinces the historic feud between the House of Orange and the republican party had broken out afresh. The republican party had usually regarded France as their friend and had procured a treaty of alliance with France in November, 1785. England and Prussia, jealous of French ascendancy, supported the cause of the Prince of Orange, William V. At length the rancour of the parties

rose to actual civil war. Frederick William II, King of Prussia, took advantage of an affront to his sister Wilhelmina, the Stadholder’s wife, to assemble an army on the Dutch frontier; and the English govern­ment made an alliance with him and fitted out a naval force. The French government could not see unmoved the ruin of their party in Holland. They promised the republicans armed support and resolved to form a camp at Givet. But every active measure was hindered by want of money and of public confidence. Segur, the Minister of War, and Castries, the Minister of Marine, resigned because they could not move Brienne to do what they thought necessary. They were replaced by the Comte de Brienne, the Archbishop’s younger brother, a man of no consequence, and by the Comte de la Luzerne, then commanding in St Domingo. As Frederick William now felt certain that France could and would do nothing, he sent Duke Charles William Ferdinand of Brunswick to invade Holland, where no resistance was made. France did not even try to intervene on behalf of her friends. The Orange party thus became supreme, French influence in Holland was destroyed, and French weakness was displayed to all Europe. These events could not but sharpen the contempt felt by the French people for their rulers and embarrass still further the conduct of affairs at home.

In August Laurent de Villedeuil resigned the office of Controller- General, and was succeeded by Lambert, a man equally obscure, the third Controller-General in five months. About the same time the contest between the Crown and the Parlement was closed by a precarious peace. Brienne despaired of success against the violence of public opinion, and was more than ever in need of money. The Parlement began to tire of its stay in a provincial city and feared to wear out its popularity. Both parties were thus disposed to treat. The Council indeed annulled the resolutions taken by the Parlement in August, and prolonged its exile over the vacation. But when the Parlement deputed d’Aligre to set forth the obstacles to the dispensation of justice arising from its stay at Troyes, he found a gracious reception with the King and the chief Minister, who consented to suppress the edicts for a stamp-tax and a land- tax. All that the Parlement would do in return was to register an edict, prolonging the time during which the increased vingtiemes could be levied. It is true that even by this small favour the Parlement belied its former declaration of inability to grant taxes. On these terms the Parlement returned to Paris, September 24, 1787, amid the rejoicings of the people, and with the proud sense of a complete victory over the Crown.

It might have been foretold that the conflict would presently be renewed. Resistance to the government was highly popular and in no way dangerous. The Parlement was not restrained either by accurate knowledge of the necessities of State—for it had no part in administration, or by large views of public policy—for its stubbornness was mainly an

affair of sentiment and tradition, or by the feeling which sobers an oppo­sition in a free commonwealth that it may be called upon to govern— for the function of the Parlement in politics was purely negative. On the other side the government was sinking ever deeper into penury and contempt. About this time Calonne published his Requite au Roi with the object of clearing his own character and showing that he had always acted with the knowledge and approval of the King. He injured the King more than he benefited himself. He did not spare Brienne, and here his accusations were not thrown away. The public now began to reckon the chances of national bankruptcy; and the fund-holders became eager for the meeting of the States General as the only means to a thorough reform of the finances. Thus the very class which is usually most attached to the existing order of the State had learnt in France to wish for something little short of a revolution.

Forced to raise money, and yet afraid of the Parlement, Brienne took up once more the policy which had failed with Calonne, the combination of reforms with measures for filling the treasury. He resolved to issue a series of loans amounting in all to 120,000,000 livres, but spread over five years, to promise the convocation of the States General, and to relieve the Protestants from one of their greatest hardships, the denial of civil status. The Protestants being neither able nor willing to partake of the sacraments of the Roman Church, their births, marriages, and deaths were left without legal record, and all their relations of family and property were thus kept in doubt and confusion. It was now designed to supply such a record without relieving Protestants from any of their other disabilities. At Brienne’s instance the King held a “ royal session ” of the Parlement on November 19, in which the decrees for the loan and for restoring a civil status to Protestants were presented for registration. At a “royal session,” herein differing from a “ lit de justice,” the members of the Parlement were allowed to state and to justify their opinions; and the discussion had lasted some time when Lamoignon spoke to the King, who suddenly cut short the debate and ordered immediate registration. The Duke of Orleans complained of this proceeding as irregular; but the King refused to listen and took his departure. The Parlement continued its sitting, and disclaimed all share in the registration of the edicts. There is reason to believe that, if the debate had not been interrupted, the majority would have accepted registration. The Ministers had therefore made a fresh mistake; but they could not overlook such an affront to the sovereign as was implied in the conduct of the Parlement, and were forced to begin again the hopeless struggle with these obstinate lawyers. The Duke of Orleans was ordered to retire to his country-house of Villers-Cotterets, and two of the boldest magistrates, Freteau and Sabathier, were imprisoned by lettres de cachet. A deputation of the Parlement was summoned to Versailles to hear a

rebuke from the King and witness the erasure of the offending resolution. The Parlement answered with remonstrances, and was abetted by most of the provincial Parlements. The Parlements had won for a moment the place they had always desired as leaders and spokesmen of the French nation and seemed a counterpoise to the power of the Crown. But it would be a mistake to credit them even now with insight or with large views of government. They set themselves against even the small measure of toleration which the Ministers had resolved to bestow on the Protestants. It was not until June, 1788, that they consented to register this edict. With regard to the finances they had no constructive policy. And of the results which would flow from the summoning of the States General they aad, as the event proved, no forecast even approaching the truth.

The new Provincial Assemblies created in June met before the dose of the year, but rather exasperated than calmed the public mind. Their constitution disappointed some reformers, because all the original members were chosen by the Crown, and were only to be replaced gradually by elected members. Some provinces, like Hainault and Dauphine, would have preferred the revival of their historic Estates. In other Provinces the Parlements resisted to the utmost the in­stitution of the new assemblies. When these hindrances had been overcome and the assemblies met, they proved not unworthy of the hopes cherished by the government. The members of the different Estates showed a spirit of cordial cooperation and industry in devising reforms. But the assemblies, the first endeavour towards local and popular control, were not easily harmonised with the old administrative system, rigidly despotic and central. Some friction was unavoidable. Moreover in these assemblies the gathered discontent of all classes found utterance; and, as the age was in the highest degree rhetorical and sentimental, their members sometimes used language directly tending to encourage disorder. The Ministers had hoped that the assemblies would help in the collection of taxes, but did not find them very useful for this purpose. A valuable improvement, but one which could be perfected only by time and with the advantage of quiet, had been hurried through amid increasing anarchy, and so proved a new perplexity to its authors. Few governments have sacrificed so much in power to gain so little in popularity as the government of Louis XVI.

The year 1788 opened without any change in the condition of France. The Ministers tried to conciliate opinion by such activity as the state of the revenue allowed, and in March, 1788, they redeemed a royal promise by publishing a statement of receipts and expenses for the current year, which Gomel has pronounced the fullest and most trustworthy of those published before the Revolution. It showed, indeed, a deficit of 160,000,000 livres, which could not easily be made good by borrowing, since no capitalist would lend without the sanction

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of the Parlement to the loan: The Parlement, conscious of its power, persisted in denouncing the severities of the previous November, and in asserting the right of individuals not to be deprived of liberty save by legal process. The spirit of criticism and resistance became more and more general, and pamphlets were multiplied beyond all former pre­cedent. The language of the Parlement was so revolutionary, and its endeavours to disable the government from borrowing money or levying taxes were so unscrupulous, that the ministry resolved on a bold stroke. Two of the ringleaders of the opposition, d’Espremenil and Goislard, were to be seized and imprisoned; and the Parlement, as an institution, was to be transformed. That a body created to administer justice should presume to exercise a veto on laws and taxes was itself anomalous; and this body in its own sphere was not free from reproach. The judicial system of France, if system it could be called, was the gradual result of ages, and in many ways ill-suited to modem French society. The same might be said of law in France, for the criminal law remained in many particulars barbarous and inhuman. Brienne and his colleagues proposed therefore to connect the abolition of the veto claimed by the Parlement with a reform of the law and the judicial system. Their designs were supposed to be secret, but were in fact well known to the Parlement. On the night of May 4, when d’Espremenil and Goislard were to be arrested, they took refuge in the Palace of Justice, whence they had to be tom by military force on the 6th, after an impressive display of fortitude and majesty by themselves and their colleagues.

The Parlement now suspended its sittings, and on May 8 was summoned to a lit de justice at Versailles. The King there announced the remodelling of the judicature. A new Cour PlSniere was to take the place of the Parlement, the senior members of the old Court being, however, eligible to the new. The Cour Pleniere was alone to exercise the office of registration, the provincial Parlements being henceforth restrained to strictly judicial duty. The relations and powers of the inferior Courts were to be so amended as to make justice more cheap and speedy. The conflicting bodies of custom which had force in different parts of the kingdom were to be harmonised. Criminal procedure was to be reformed, and in particular the use of torture to obtain evidence was to be abandoned. The King also promised that the States General should be convoked as often as the condition of public affairs made their meeting advisable. The President replied with a protest that the King could not violate the fundamental laws of the realm. He added that the Parlement was to suffer merely for having asserted that only the States General could tax the people. The Cour des Aides and the Chambre des Comptes, when required to register the edicts, repeated the protest of the Parlement. The public was divided, for the abuses of the judicial system were keenly felt and its

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The provincial Parlements.

Ill

reformation was very widely desired; yet the Circumstance that the refusal of the Parlements to register an edict was the sole constitutional check on despotism secured perhaps a majority of voices in their favour. The Ministers who had gone thus far should at least have seen the impossibility of retreat and therefore the wisdom of acting with vigour. Yet they did nothing further towards establishing the Cour PUniere, but were content to keep the members of the Parlement idle at Versailles. Neither Calonne nor Brienne seems ever to have understood the danger of announcing reforms which they were not able or not resolved to carry. These Ministers called every part of the old polity of France in question and then left it little altered. Thus they tutored the French people in revolution.

Even if Brienne could flatter himself that he had overthrown the Parlement of Paris, his work was only half done until the edicts had been registered by the provincial Parlements. These bodies had been accustomed to obey the political impulse of the Paris Parlement. They resented the edicts which, by taking away the power of registration, ended their influence in public affairs, and they saw in the suppression of the Parlement of Paris a menace to themselves. Most of the provincial Parlements were therefore determined to resist the edicts as long as they could; and their means of resistance were formidable. The distinc­tion between the noblesse of the sword and the noblesse of the robe, which severed so deeply the courtiers of Versailles from the lawyers of Paris, was much fainter in the Provinces. By birth, by social intercourse, by common interests and prejudices, the members of the provincial Parlements were closely bound to the provincial nobility. This nobility, poor and proud, tenacious of its dignity and privileges, had long been ripe for mutiny. It bore a bitter grudge against the grandees who surrounded the King and intercepted his favours. It winced under the despotic sway of Ministers and Intendants. It had lately seen its chances of promotion in the army curtailed for the benefit of the higher nobility, and it now saw its seigniorial jurisdiction assailed by the new edicts. It resolved to stand by the Parlements to the last. In some at least of the Provinces, such as Beam, Britanny, or Dauphine, the opposition had a peculiarly strong case. For these Provinces had come under the direct sway of the Crown only by virtue of solemn pacts which guaranteed them in the enjoyment of their own laws and institutions. If the new edicts could be shown to infringe these chartered rights, the whole force of provincial patriotism would be enlisted in the Parliamentary opposition.

The middle class at first took little part in resisting the edicts, although the lawyers generally followed their professional superiors. But the provincial nobility had many dependents both in town and country, and did not reflect upon the danger of raising the mob against the government. The Provinces were accordingly foremost in resistance to the royal will. In Beam the Parlement delayed registration as long as

possible. When it had been suspended from its functions, an insurrection broke out, which was only calmed when the Parlement resumed its place and duties. The victorious Parlement pronounced its unwilling registra­tion null, and declared all who should assist in executing the edicts to be out of the protection of the law. The government, thus openly defied, would have been content with formal submission; but, as even this was refused, it sent an order for the whole body to appear at Versailles. When they arrived, Brienne’s ministry was drawing to a close, and they were sent home without pun .hment or even rebuke. In Britanny the Parle­ment refused to register the edicts, and the representatives of the three Estates supported its action most strenuously. Bertrand de Molleville, the Intendant, and the Comte de Thiard, the commandant who had been charged with the duty of enforcing registration, were furiously assailed by the mob, while the troops showed an unwillingness to use force which, in a free country, would have been deemed criminal. As in Beam, so in Britanny, the Parlement declared the registration null, and pronounced all who had any concern in the edicts traitors to King and country. The magistrates, it is true, submitted to lettres de cachet, exiling them from Rennes. But thereupon the commission of the Estates, which acted for the whole body between its sessions, took up their cause and sent a deputation to remonstrate with the King. The Ministers denied them an audience, and even sent them to the Bastille. This tardy vigour merely produced more deputations. In Dauphine the Parlement declared that if the edicts were not withdrawn the people would consider themselves released from their allegiance. The government as usual replied with an order for the arrest and exile of the magistrates. Then the populace of Grenoble rose against the garrison, and forced the commandant, the Due de Clermont-Tonnerre, to restore the magistrates to their places and to confine the soldiers to barracks. The Parlement, behaving with unusual decorum, stayed just long enough to calm the multitude, and then quietly withdrew, each man to his appointed place of exile.

In this resistance to the edicts of May we trace two distinct motives, jealousy of provincial privilege and weariness of absolute rule. The edicts taken as a whole embodied a great reform; and it was significant of the time that good laws should excite rebellion among a people which had so often tamely submitted to the worst. The forbearance, nay the weakness, of the Ministers is equally remarkable. They might have taken a higher tone if they could have trusted the army. But the officers, swayed by liberal ideas or by aristocratic sympathies, were almost everywhere unwilling to use force even under the grossest provocation; and where the officers were lukewarm the private soldiers could not be expected to hold out against the multitude. Yet the historian must own that the government of Louis XVI treated rebellion with an indulgence which amounted to abdication. While employing arbitrary

words and forms inherited from a very different state of society, it showed hesitation and gentleness inconsistent with strong government.

Brienne was as unsuccessful with the clergy as with the lawyers. In May he tried to get an increase in the don gratuit. The clergy refused, and chose commissioners to draw up a remonstrance to the King, in which they took the side of the Parlements and claimed all their old privileges. This remonstrance was presented in June. In reply a royal decree recognised the immunity of the clergy from taxation. It thus became apparent that the King and the Ministers either did not understand their own policy or were not in earnest with it, since they laid down principles merely to discard them, and ended by confirming the abuses which they had assailed. Had they known it, there was no more to fear from the selfishness of the privileged orders; for the provincial Parlements had by this time diffused a spirit of resistance through the whole community, and it was the nation which henceforth had to be considered by the sovereign and his advisers. In Dauphine this memor­able change was first manifested, and the assembly of Vizille marked a further approach towards revolution.

On June 14<, 1788, the noblesse of Grenoble held a consultation with cpresentatives of the other Orders, and agreed by their own authority to revive the ancient Estates of Dauphine. The Third Estate was to have as many representatives as the other two, and all were to deliberate and vote in common. The meeting was fixed for July 21, and the resolu­tions to be proposed were drafted by Jean-Joseph Mounier, a young lawyer of Grenoble, who had distinguished himself in the recent troubles. It is not surprising that the Ministers should have treated this conduct on the part of a number of private men as an act of rebellion and have sent down the Marshal de Vaux with troops to restore order. But the Marshal found such a fierce unanimity in the Province that he deemed it better to consent that the assembly should meet, so long as the meeting was not at Grenoble. The leaders were willing to hold it at Vizille, a few miles distant. On the appointed day nearly five hundred deputies met there, among them Mounier, who was chosen secretary, guided all their proceedings, and may be termed the first parliamentary statesman of the French Revolution. The resolutions now submitted to the assembly condemned the edicts of May, demanded the convocation of the States General and of the Estates in each Province, and required that in the Estates of Dauphine the Third Estate should have as many representatives as the nobles and clergy together. They also declared that the Estates of Dauphine would never consent to any taxes not granted by the States General or separate their cause from that of the other Provinces, and insisted upon the abolition of lettres de cachet. After the deputies at Vizille had voted these resolutions, and had declared their own assembly permanent until the edicts should have been withdrawn, they adjourned until September 1. The effect of their

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proceedings upon public opinion was incalculable. An entire Province had given itself a political constitution, and had announced its resolve to gain one for the whole kingdom. The deputies had insisted, it is true, upon their provincial rights, but only as a temporary makeshift, and had been careful not to separate the interests of Dauphine from the interests of France. In the same spirit they had implied, although they had not presumed to assert, that in the national assembly the Third Estate must have a deciding voice. Opposition to arbitrary power was hence­forward to be based not upon ancient forms but on modem needs; not on the privileges of any order but on the rights of the people , not on the peculiar laws of a Province but on the common patriotism of all Frenchmen.

Brienne and his colleagues were angry but had neither spirit nor resources to overcome this new opposition. All through the summer deputations, complaints, and protests had been multiplying. The Ministers had tried to silence agitation by a severe decree of Council dated June 28. Only a week later, a new decree betrayed their bewilderment. After observing that the number and qualifications of the electors and the elected, and the procedure of elections for the States General had never been precisely determined, this decree required municipal and other officers to search for documents illustrative of these matters and to send them to the provincial assemblies for consideration and report. It also invited all men of learning to make independent enquiry, and to send the results of their labour to the Keeper of the Seals. By this decree the Ministers doubtless intended to show that they were in earnest, and also to give the public a new theme which might divert them from sedition. But it showed what a venture was made in summoning the States General, and how ill the Ministers under­stood their own business. Where there was no continuous tradition of parliamentary government, the Crown should have decided doubtful questions with reference to the needs of the age, instead of distracting the public with a useless discussion. Even the decree of July brought no rest to Brienne’s ministry. The King, bewildered by the storm, ceased to attend to public business, and spent nearly all his time in hunting. Brienne was worn out; Breteuil resigned; the Treasury was almost empty; and the time seemed close at hand when there would no longer be a government. It was resolved therefore to hasten the assembling of the States General. A decree of August 8 fixed their meeting for May 1, 1789, and suspended the establishment of the Cour Pleniere.

Even this abridged interval seemed more than France in her existing condition would endure. The ever-increasing agitation, with its occa­sional outbursts of brutal violence, had checked business; and a very bad harvest announced a season of distress. The government was so poor that even the movement of troops required to maintain order was more than it could well afford. Authority had fallen into such contempt

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Necker Minister of Finance.

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that it was more and more difficult to collect the taxes, and the public creditors were now so thoroughly alarmed that to borrow had become impossible. A decree of August 16 announced that for the present a large proportion of the public liabilities would be paid in paper. As the Caisse d'Escompte had lent so much of its capital to the Treasury, this decree involved another, giving its notes forced circulation. Thus the deficit with which Louis began his reign had now grown into insolvency. There was only one man in France whose credit could supply the credit of the State or enable the form of government to linger on until May of 1789. Anxious to save Brienne from disgrace, the Queen tried to gain Necker. But Necker would not link his fortunes with an unpopular Minister; and, as Necker alone could find a supply, the Bang had to dismiss Brienne. He retired on August 25, loaded with favours which would have been ample for the most successful statesman, and which reflect little honour on himself or the King.

Necker now became Minister of Finance, with the style of Secretary of State, and was admitted a member of the Council. The King and Queen, although unfriendly, submitted perforce to all his recommenda­tions. The public were hysterical with delight at his return to power, and the funds rose 30 per cent. But the time was long past when Necker could have restored the vigour of the State; the sovereign had lost his dignity, the people had forgotten to obey, and the common wants of the administration could be met only by daily contrivances. Necker had no other ambition than to reach without further tumult or downright bankruptcy the day on which the States General were to meet. With the help of the financiers who trusted him he scraped together a little money to meet pressing claims; and to improve credit he obtained the recall of the edict enjoining the Treasury to pay its debts partly in paper. In order to shorten the agony he induced the King to declare that the States General should meet in January, 1789; and in order to calm the public, he obtained the dismissal of Lamoignon, the suppression of the new judicial system, and the restoration of the Parlements to their old functions. With far less cause than before the Parlement resumed its old part of opposition. The mob of Paris, constantly growing more unruly, had wished to celebrate the downfall of Brienne and Lamoignon by burning their houses, and only desisted when Dubois, the commandant of the watch, gave orders for the soldiers to fire. The Parlement immediately on its return summoned Dubois to answer at its bar for his conduct, thus setting the precedent so often followed in the Revolution of treating the suppression of savage riot as a crime. But the Parlement was speedily punished by the loss of that popularity for which it had laboured so hard. When it registered the decree convoking the States General, it added the condition that they should be held as in 1614, each Order sitting as a separate House and voting separately. This proviso, as enabling the clergy and nobles to

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control everything, was rejected by all who looked for comprehensive reforms. From this time onward the Parlement was hardly ever named without reproach, and was ignored in all political combinations, Within three years it was destroyed almost without a voice raised in its behalf.

The King and Necker were hardly wiser than the Parlement. In a country unused to free institutions every course was full of danger; but the least dangerous would have been the adoption of principles already applied in the provincial assemblies, double representation of the Third Estate, deliberation in, common, and vote by head. Had the Crown boldly accepted these principles, it might have regained much of its lost influence and have exercised a steadying control over the States General But Netfker, afraid to decide, advised the King to reassemble the Notables and to consult them. When they accordingly assembled on November 6, they gave the advice which might have been foretold. Only one bureau voted for the double representation of the Third Estate, none for deliberation in common or vote by head; they insisted upon observance of the ancient forms; and their one concession to public opinion was in renouncing all exemptions from taxes. They were dissolved on December 12, after causing some loss of time and helping to diminish Necker’s popularity., It was now impossible that the States General should meet before May.

Meanwhile the political leaders of Dauphine had set forth the demands of the people. We have seen that the irregular assembly of Vizille had adjourned, after presenting to the government a list of reforms amounting to a revolution. Always anxious to conciliate, Necker had sanctioned the renewal of its session, only requiring that it should meet at the little town of Romans, twenty leagues from Grenoble. It met again on September 10. The president named by the Ministers, Lefranc de Pompignan, Archbishop of Vienne, was known for his liberal opinions; yet the president in the former session, the Comte de Morges, declared on behalf of the assembly that they recognised him in that, character merely out of xespect for the King, and without prejudice to their inherent right to name their own officers—a protest to which the Archbishop himself gave his adhesion. After this display of independ­ence the assembly began to consider, the subject to which the Crown had limited its powers, the constitution of the new provincial Estates. It adopted Mounier’s proposal that the Estates should consist of one hundred and forty-four deputies, of whom the Third Estate should choose seventy-two, the nobles forty-eight, and the clergy twenty-four. All were to deliberate and vote in common. Yet the plan was in some respects not democratic, since only two places were assigned to cures, and these had to be proprietors; while only nobles of one hundred years’ standing and a certain property qualification could be elected, and, in the Third Estate, only those who paid a certain, sum in taxes could vote, and only those who paid a somewhat larger sum could

be deputies. The assembly having adjourned, a decree of the Royal Council confirmed the plan with some slight amendments. When the assembly met again in November, it called these amendments in question, as not having been registered in any Court of the Province, and rejected them all, an act which it held to require no confirmation by the Crown, and which no Minister ventured to challenge.

The assembly of Romans also addressed a letter to Necker asking for the double representation of the Third Estate; but on this point, doubt­less, Necker had solicited their opinion. A great number of municipal and other assemblies had followed their example. Even the Parlement of Paris, in the hope of regaining power, had pronounced for the double representation of the Third Estate, although not for the other demands. Most of the pamphlets which were published at this time in immense numbers enforced the popular view of the question. On the other side the Comte d’Artois and several Princes of the blood addressed to the King a protest against any concession. Necker, who watched the course of public opinion with his usual anxiety to please all parties, was deeply perplexed and at length took a middle course. He advised the King to give the Third Estate double representation, but not to determine the other points. A royal ordinance decided that the deputies to the States General should number at least one thousand; that in distributing representation regard should be had both to population and to taxation; and that the representatives of the Third Estate should equal in number those of the clergy and nobles. The ordinance was prefaced with a report by Necker on the points in dispute, which affords the clearest proof of his inability to divine the future course of events as well as of his wish to please or at least not to offend men of all conditions. Both documents were dated December 27, 1788, and were published under the singular title of “Resulted du Cornell du Roi.” At first received with favour, because of the assurance of double represen­tation of the Commons, they were less liked when the public had time to reflect how much they left undecided. The royal letter convoking the States General, and the regulations determining who should possess the franchise and how the deputies should be elected, bore the date of January 24, 1789. All was now ready for the elections, which began a few days later and took several months to complete.

A new series of disorders had sprung from the bad harvest of 1788; and Necker had returned to the practice of regulating the com trade. In September the export of com was forbidden. In November com and flour were forbidden to be sold elsewhere than in markets. The govern­ment offered premiums to importers of com, and even bought com itself. As usual these measures caused alarm and hampered traffic and deepened the distress which they were meant to relieve. In a country where the government was so much despised and the elements of insurrection were so plentiful, violent outbreaks were sure to follow. They began in

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Scarcity and disorder.

January, 1789, and as the civil and military authorities were afraid to do their duty, multiplied and became more outrageous. Thus set in the period of disorder caused by scarcity, and of scarcity rendered more acute by disorder, which lasted with intervals for ten years. Things were made worse by the severe winter. All the great rivers of France were frozen, and even the port of Marseilles was covered with ice. Many poor people died of cold and hunger. As usual in France, a time of misery produced tales of Ministers and other great men speculating in food and extracting untold wealth from the starvation of the people. It was under these evil conditions that the elections to the States General were held.

Louis XVI had begun his reign with the best intentions and the fairest hopes. He had always sought for worthy ministers, and had found one or two of uncommon merit. He had at least wished to be humane and frugal, and had made many reforms and some sacrifices. Yet at every step he seemed only to entangle himself in more and more grievous perplexities. In an age of industrial and commercial progress, his revenue seemed to melt away and leave him penniless. His authority at home had sunk, until there was no cheaper way of becoming popular than to defy the Crown. His influence in Europe, despite the most successful war ever waged against the national enemy, had all but vanished. He had abdicated in favour of the Parlements, in favour even of the private assembly of Vizille, before abdicating in favour of the nation. Worse still remained behind. He was to lose not only the remnant of prerogative which he still kept, but personal freedom and safety, and after ,a long train of inconceivable humiliations was to die on the scaffold. Even when we have allowed, and it is fair to make the fullest allowance, for the embarrassments which Louis inherited, we must add that no other reign so forcibly attests the insufficiency in great affairs of good-will unsupported by wisdom or firmness.

CHAPTER Y.

THE ELECTIONS TO THE STATES GENERAL.

If we would understand the beginnings of the French Revolution we must carefully guard against certain preconceptions. The French of 1789 had no experience of parliamentary institutions,* and could not therefore possess the habits and instincts of parliamentary life. The desire for self-government, then so general among the upper classes of France, had been fed by literature and philosophy, not by practice. In the first stage of the French Revolution even the keenest and most judicial minds could little forecast the future; while the general public had no prevision whatever, but lived blindly from day to day. When the King convened the States General, he was unaware that he was making one of the gravest and most hazardous experiments in history. When the States General met, the members hardly suspected the enormous difficulty of their task. When, under their later style of the National Assembly, they gave to France her first Constitution, they did not foresee how that Constitution would operate even for a year. Historians are usually prone to ascribe to human wisdom or cunning much that is the outcome of mere passion, indolence, or want of thought. But nowhere has this fallacy run to wilder extremes than in histories of the French Revolution written not long after the event. Results so wonderful must, it was thought, have been the work of Machiavellian subtlety. The reverse would have been nearer the truth. The results were so strange, because the agents had not even that dim prevision which in ordinary times is possible to public men.

The States General of France bore scarcely any resemblance to the modem English Parliament. They had never outgrown the medieval type of national assembly. The continuous action of the English Parliament had ensured continuous growth and almost unnoticed adjustment to the new conditions of later ages. In France it had been otherwise. While in England during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries a Parliament had been called, as a rule, once a year, and even under the Tudors and Stewarts had met once every few years, the States General in France had been called at most irregular intervals, usually

120 The States General. Position of the deputies. [1789

long, and tending to grow longer, till after 1614 they were called no more. Therefore they remained to the last what they had been from the first, an assembly of Estates, in which the Clergy, the Nobles, and the Third Estate acted as separate bodies, with separate interests and distinct traditions. The relative intelligence, wealth, and actual power of the different Estates might change; but there was no corresponding change in the constitution of the States General. Meeting so seldom, moreover, the Estates had never been able to define their procedure or to fix their powers. What had been true at first of all medieval parliaments remained true of the States General to the end. The deputies remained agents in relation to their electors, petitioners in relation to the King, and never became senators empowered and obliged to consider the interest of the whole commonwealth and to exercise the discretion of a sovereign legislature.

In relation to their electors the deputies were, we have said, agents. Their task was to state the grievances of the electors to the King, and they had little choice as to the best means of discharging their mission. In every baiUiage or senichaussie each of the three Estates drew up a list of grievances known as a cahier des plaintes el doleances. Out of these cahiers the representatives of that Estate in all the bailliages of the Province compiled a provincial cahier; and in the States General a committee of each Estate formed out of the provincial cahiers a general cahier for their own Estate throughout the kingdom, and this cahier was then presented to the King. The deputies were bound by these written instructions, and in great measure debarred from making use of the advantages arising from their fuller knowledge and from their position as members of an assembly representing the whole of France.

In relation to the King the deputies were petitioners, not legislators. As in England down to the Lancastrian period, so in France down to the reign of Louis XIII, the Estates petitioned for the redress of grievances, and the King promised redress in return for money or for help in some other form. Whether the King should grant or refuse the whole of what was asked, or grant part and withhold the rest, or grant something different but in his opinion better or more con­venient, remained at his own discretion, as it had been at the discretion of the English Kings in the fourteenth century. The Estates had rarely gone so far as to make the grant of supply conditional on the redress of grievances; and therefore the Crown could often evade promising or neglect to fulfil its word. Meantime the original law-making power of the King remained unabated. The form of the law was always, the substance of the law was usually, what the sovereign willed. Few and superficial were the traces left by the activity of the States General upon the law of old France. So likewise the States General never gained the power of the purse. They might grant a supply in exchange for redress of grievances; they never established the maxim that there

could be no taxation without their consent; and such control over supply as they originally possessed steadily diminished after 1357.

The historic States General of France were therefore an institution compatible with almost absolute monarchy. They did not impose their will upon the sovereign, although they helped him to ascertain public opinion. What the States General would do, when they should meet again after an interval of one hundred and seventy-five years fruitful in change, none could know; and individual wishes or fears determined all surmises. The language of the royal summons was vague and comprehensive. It enjoined that the deputies should be furnished with instructions and powers sufficient to propose, advise, and consent to all that might concern the wants of the State, the reform of abuses, the establishment of a fixed and durable order in all parts of the administration, the general prosperity of the kingdom, and the welfare of each and all of the subjects, and promised on behalf of the King his good-will to observe and execute all that should have been conceited between him and the Estates. These words, liberal as they are, do not exactly ascribe any legislative power to the States General, certainly not that sole legislative power which they afterwards claimed with reference to the Constitution. Louis who, though weak and gentle, believed firmly in his divine right and unlimited prerogative, can hardly have contemplated, certainly did not desire, such a surrender. Probably he attached no very definite meaning to the words placed in his mouth, and expected the States General to show far more deference for ancient usage than Frenchmen in 1789 were disposed to pay. He hoped, in return for limited although substantial reforms—such as the suppression of all immunities from taxation, the transfer of the taxing power to the States General, and guarantees for their periodic meeting— to be set free from his financial embarrassment. Even these reforms would have ended the absolute power of the Crown; but they would have left the King, in a very real sense, head of the State; and beyond these reforms we may feel sure that Louis did not mean to go, or expect to be driven.

Very different were the hopes and resolutions of a great part of the public. The government of France had, as we have seen, lost every shred of authority and was now as much despised as it was disliked. The spirit of criticism which had been gaining strength all through the eighteenth century and the ever-rising discontent with the abuses of the old order had found a practical direction and an immediate object. The most active and aspiring men in the country wanted much more than the redress of particular grievances; they wanted political, and indeed social, reconstruction. The “regeneration of France” was expected from the approaching States General; and inexperience made even so gigantic an undertaking seem easy. The mounting agitation of the public broke forth in such a tumult of

122

Pamphlets and treatises.

political discussion as France had never known till now. Newspapers indeed there were none save the official journals. But the pamphlets were counted by hundreds, perhaps by thousands. The government made one feeble attempt to impose silence; but such an attempt was contrary to the invitation which it had addressed to all citizens and to Necker’s conciliating policy, and proved altogether ineffectual. For the first time in French history the press was in fact free. All the passions so long restrained found utterance. All the ideas hitherto confined to books or to conversation were hawked about the streets. Men of all opinions wrote; but the partisans of reform wrote most eagerly and copiously. They covered an extraordinary range of topics, but dwelt longest on that which seemed most urgent, the constitution of the approaching States General, above all on the relation of the three Estates. Deliberation in common and vote by head they felt to be necessary for the changes which they all desired. It is true that the clergy and the nobles had very generally intimated a readiness to forgo their immunity from taxation; true that for the most part they desired constitutional freedom. But there remained other privileges which they were not disposed to surrender, nor the Third Estate to spare; the freedom which they desired would have been in some measure aristocratic, while France was dominated by democratic theory; and their feudal rights in the soil set them in opposition to the material interests of the bulk of the people.

In the party of reform at this time there was none more conspicuous and there were few more temperate than Jean-Joseph Mounier. Yet Mounier in his Nouvelles Observations sur les ittats generaux poured scorn upon the ancient constitution and procedure of the States General, which reduced the deputies to the business of compiling useless petitions for redress out of the cahiers which they had received from their electors. He urged his countrymen to give their representatives the amplest powers, and to regard the cahiers merely as means of laying stress upon what was most essential, not as restraints to be imposed on the discre­tion of legislators. He bade them enjoin upon their representatives the framing of a constitution, but only in a joint assembly of the three Estates. Himself an admirer of the English system, and convinced that two Chambers were necessary to order and freedom, he maintained nevertheless that a constituent assembly must be one and indivisible. To enforce the same moral Emmanuel-Joseph Sieyes wrote his famous pamphlet Qu’est-ce-que le Tiers ittat f—which opens with the three well- known questions, “ What is the Third Estate P Everything. What has it been until now in the political order ? Nothing. What does it ask ? To be something.” Sieyes sought to put the Third Estate upon its guard against the other two. The reform of abuses, he argued, is hopeless so long as those who profit by them have a veto upon change. Therefore deliberation in common and vote by head are as

necessary as the double representation of the Third Estate if the States General are to effect any real good. But what is to be done if the clergy and the nobles, entrenching themselves in precedent, hold aloof? In that case, he answered, the Third Estate must go on alone and enact a constitution. After all the Third Estate is the nation, of which the First and Second Estates are small portions, and if its deputies by themselves do not form the States General, they will form a national assembly. Whatever may be thought of the exaggerations and the fallacies in this memorable pamphlet, it made Sieyes famous and powerful. A crowd of inferior though often vigorous writers repeated and enforced the arguments of Mounier and Sieyes.

Along with the serious attempts to influence the electors came forth a swarm of pamphlets and fly-sheets often bearing grotesque titles, such as Le Gloria in Excelsis du Peuple, Le De Prqfumdis de la Noblesse et du ClergS, La Semaine Sainte ou les Lamentations du Tiers J^tat, etc. These were often couched in the highflown strain of passionate sensibility which Rousseau had brought into vogue, and which pervades even the official utterances of that time. Others were steeped in rancour and abounded in suggestions of hatred and revenge. All were thrown to a people naturally excitable, which had suffered, and was suffering much, and which was for the most part ill-educated, wanting in political experience, unused to political discussion, and now thoroughly suspicious and distrustful of its rulers. Such literature could not but exasperate the electors and prompt them in many cases to choose men rather for their vehemence than for their judgment. It even produced some immediate disorder, especially in Paris, where the artificial cheapness of bread and the relief works established at Montmartre had drawn together thousands who could not or would not earn their living at home, and where the mob was reinforced by many vagrants and ruffians from all the surrounding Provinces. The conservative party also had recourse to the press, but their pamphleteers were inferior in talent, in confidence, and in numbers. Their writings fell comparatively flat, for they could not promise to the general public more than a part of what it was resolved to take, whereas the liberals were in the first flush of a sanguine hope, which was not the less sincere because it was very often unreasonable.

Accustomed as we are in a free country to watch the currents of public opinion, we must be surprised that the King and his Ministers took no heed of the growing commotion in France. They ought to have seen, we think, that the new States General would differ from all previous assemblies of the kind, and would require to be managed in a new way. Apparently they saw nothing. Louis spent his time mostly in field sports, and left to Necker, whom he disliked, the responsibility of guiding the State through the crisis. Necker, conscious of the royal

disfavour, harassed by the cabals of the courtiers, unversed in politics as distinct from finance, and afraid of injuring his reputation, remained passive. The honest and sagacious Malouet tells us in his Memoirs that he tried to stir Necker to action. He called on him to make at least an effort towards guiding public opinion, instead of waiting for its force to sweep him away. Before the elections took place, Malouet insisted, everything ought to be considered and determined in the royal Council. The Ministers should decide what they could not decently defend and what they might safely abandon. They should take large account of the wants and wishes of the public. Already the commons had risen to equal power with the nobles and the clergy; and privileges oppressive to the commons were therefore certain to be abolished. On these principles the Ministers should settle their plan of concessions and reforms. They should then by every honest and lawful means recommend this programme to the electoral assemblies as the model of their cahiers, and put forward as candidates respectable men who would adhere to the programme. Necker only replied that it was neither decorous nor safe for Ministers to interfere in any way whatever. Malouet urged that, without the initiative of the Ministers, nothing but confusion could be expected from an assembly of twelve hundred inexperienced men, drawn from all classes and swayed by the most discordant passions. But he argued in vain. With Necker, and with Armand-Marc Montmorin, the Minister next in consequence to himself, the fear of taking a decisive part silenced all considerations of true prudence. The Revolution was fated to run its course, uncontrolled by any statesmanlike direction.

The government thus left the field open for eager partisans who undertook the guidance of the electors. They drew up model cahiers and had them printed and circulated by thousands or sent in manuscript to the electors for whom they were intended. They composed manuals for electors, such as the instructions sent by the Duke of Orleans relating to the States General, and the resolutions to be taken in the assemblies of the bailliages drawn up by Sieyes.

The royal letter of convocation and the regulations of January 24 had followed precedent as far as possible and had tried to reproduce the order observed in the election of the States General of 1614. Such, however, had been the changes in that long interval that strict imitation was impossible. The antiquated bailliages and senechaussees were taken as the electoral divisions. Those which had been formed since 1614 and had never, therefore, returned deputies to the States General, were now described as secondary and annexed to older bailliages and shiechaussies. In Provinces where these divisions had almost dis­appeared or had never been established they were now defined in a somewhat arbitrary manner. In the pays d'etats the provincial Estates had usually claimed the right of choosing the deputies for the Province;

but this precedent was now set aside, save in the case of Dauphine, where the revived Estates had taken the duty upon themselves. In old times it was the cities which had constituted the Third Estate; but now all cities, even the greatest, were merged in the baiUiage or senechaussee. Paris alone was treated from the first as a separate electoral division; although a few other cities, Arles, Metz, Valenciennes, and Strasbourg, afterwards obtained the same flavour on grounds peculiar to themselves.   .

The franchise was very generously defined by the regulations. In the First Estate it was enjoyed not only by the superior clergy but by all parish priests and curates, not however in the same way or in the same degree. Archbishops, Bishops, Abbots and beneficed clergymen, appeared in person at the electoral assembly. Each Chapter was to choose one elector for every ten Canons; and one elector for every twenty of its members below the rank of Canon. Religious Houses of either sex were to be represented each by a single elector. In towns, the clergymen without benefice were to choose electors in the proportion of one to every twenty. Country curis were entitled to vote, but subject to a proviso that, if their parish were more than two leagues distant from the town in which the assembly of the baUliage or senechaussee was held, they could vote only by a proctor, unless they had an assistant to supply the spiritual wants of the parishioners in their absence. It was, perhaps, expected that such cures would name as proctors some of the superior clergy; but they usually preferred men of their own rank; and this proviso had little influence on the results of the elections.

In the Second Estate the suffrage was universal and practically equal. Every noble bom or naturalised as a Frenchman, and twenty-five years of age, was summoned to the assembly of the baUliage or senechaussee where he had his domicile. He could give only one vote in that assembly; but if he possessed a fief elsewhere he might appoint a proxy to vote in the bailliage where it was situated. Minors and women holding fiefs might also vote by proxy. All the nobles, save in Paris, chose their representatives in the States General by direct election.

In the Third Estate the suffrage was not far short of universal. Every Frenchman bom or naturalised, twenty-five years of age or upwards, and inscribed on the register of taxes, might vote. Thus every owner of land, however petty the holding, was admitted. All pro­fessional men, all men of business, and all workmen who were members of corporations, and paid the taille d'industrie, had a voice in the elections. Roughly it may be said that only the poorest labourers and downright paupers were excluded from the franchise. Against this it must be set that the elections of the Third Estate were indirect, in two, three, or even four stages. The procedure must appear in English eyes extremely complex. In every town the members of each gild met to choose deputies in the ratio of one to every hundred of their number; and

the corporations termed “ of liberal arts ” chose deputies in the ratio of two for every hundred. Other inhabitants paying taxes chose deputies in the latter proportion; and then all three classes of deputies met to form the assembly of the Third Estate for that town, and chose its representatives in the assembly of the bailliage. In each rural parish the qualified inhabitants chose two deputies for every two hundred house­holds, and an additional deputy for each hundred households after the first two. These rural deputies, together with the deputies chosen in the towns, formed the preliminary assembly of the Third Estate for the baiUiage. Where two or more baiUiages were grouped as principal and secondary, the assembly of each bailliage reduced itself to one- fourth of its original number. Where a bailliage stood alone, its reduction was not enforced; but its assembly, if upwards of two hundred, had to be reduced to that figure. When all these elections and reduc­tions had been finished, the general assembly of the Third Estate in each electoral division was complete and ready to act.

The forms of election were no less curious and antique. When the electing bodies of the three Estates had been formed, the grand bailli or grand senechal of the district summoned them all to the general assembly of the three Estates, held usually in the largest church of the town where he had his official seat. After hearing mass together, the electors were called over by Estate, by locality, and by name, and took an oath to execute their task faithfully. The bailli or senechal then asked the members of each Estate whether they would draw up their cahier and elect their representatives separately or jointly with the rest. Each Estate considered this question apart and usually resolved on separate action. Then the clergy resorted to the Bishop’s palace, the nobles to the Governor’s house, and the Third Estate to the town-hall. The Bishop presided over the clerical assembly, the grand bailli or senechal over the nobles, and the lieutenant-general of the bailliage over the Third Estate. When the cahiers had been settled and the deputies chosen, the bailli or s'enechal called a new assembly of the three Estates. Again mass was celebrated; the Bishop and the bailli or senechal harangued the assembly; the names of the persons chosen were announced, and they swore to make known in the States General the contents of the cahiers entrusted to them and to obey the instructions which they had received. With this ceremony the business of the election was complete, and the electors returned home.

As a rule the assemblies chose a substitute to take the place of each deputy, should death, accident, or illness hinder him from performing his duty; and this precaution was afterwards approved by royal decree. Many difficulties arose in the course of the elections through the variety of local usages and institutions with which the general rules laid down by the government would not accord. In these cases special regulations had to be made; and discontent was often expressed. Even so, many

details were not settled; and some trouble was occasioned by the inexperi­ence of the electors. As might be inferred from the low qualification and the public excitement, the number of persons who recorded their votes was enormous—according to Jean-Paul Rabaut de St Etienne, about six millions; but this total, perhaps equal to that of all the adult males in France, must be excessive, for there were some districts, such as the Limousin, where Turgot’s reforms are said to have diffused contentment among the country people, in which many failed to vote. In Angoumois we are told there were instances where beggars, and even women, took part in the elections. But as the system of indirect election prevented large assemblies in any one place, the deputies of the Third Estate were chosen with very little disorder.

The conduct of the government of Louis XVI in the memorable elections of 1789 has often been arraigned by writers of the most opposite parties. Some have severely blamed the admission to the franchise of so many poor and ignorant persons who could not be expected to choose fit representatives. A property qualification, it is said, should have been required in the Third Estate. Whatever may be thought of this criticism, no such qualification had been required in the past, when the Third Estate had usually comprised only the burgesses of the towns. Nor would it have been easy to fix a reasonable qualification in landed property. If it had been put low, it would have admitted the class of petty proprietors, already amounting to millions, which suffered most from the abuses of the old order and, as the event showed, was the most ripe for violent and destructive action. In that case the result of the elections would have been little improved. If the qualification had been put high, it would have excluded almost the whole of this class, which would have been unfair and dangerous. It was the misfortune of France, not the fault of Louis or of Necker, that an agricultural middle class did not exist in most Provinces. Other writers have asserted that the franchise was given to the crowd of peasants in the hope of overwhelming the intelligent and liberal citizens of the towns and thus thwarting reform. But this seems a malicious refinement suggested by the use which later rulers of France have sometimes made of the peasant vote. There is no real evidence that the government of Louis XVI understood such a manoeuvre or, in conferring the franchise so freely, had any thought other than the one alleged, of enabling the whole people to state its grievances.

It has been made a reproach that the various electoral assemblies were not allowed to elect their presiding officers, who were designated by the regulations; in the bailliage or sinichaussie the bailli or senechal, in towns various municipal officers, in rural parishes the judge of the seigneur. In the last instance the complaint seems grounded, since the manorial judge might have the means of exerting undue influence on the peasants; but in the other cases the grievance seems unreal. It was

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Defects and anomalies in the elections.

never thought to prejudice freedom of election in England that the sheriff should be the returning officer in counties or the mayor in boroughs; although the sheriff was a royal officer and the mayor in many cases the representative of a very few citizens. Even writers most prejudiced against the monarchy have been forced to allow that the elections of 1789 were free from military or official constraint, and pure from corruption and intimidation to a degree never again known for many years. The immemorial government of old France lacked that peculiar cunning which so many of its short-lived successors learnt in the fierce struggle for existence. Louis was too easy-tempered, Necker too upright and too anxious about his good name, and all who were most opposed to change too childishly ignorant of the forces which they had to resist, for any serious attempt to bribe or frighten electors. As for the civil and militaiy officers immediately charged with the maintenance of order, it was never by action, always by omission, that they offended at this critical time.

The uniformity of procedure and the quiet of the elections were in several cases disturbed by party divisions in the pays (Tetats. In these Provinces the Estates had usually chosen the deputies to the States General. But the Estates were at this moment viewed with very different feelings by different classes. As a rule the pays (Tetats were attached to their ancient liberties, which had ensured them a milder administration than was known in the pays d'election. The new pro­vincial assemblies, although framed on more liberal principles than the historic Estates, did not win much affection, because the original members were chosen by the Crown, and the elective principle was to be introduced only by degrees. Thus the Provinces which had once possessed Estates wished to revive them, and those which had never possessed Estates wished to secure them. But in the Provinces which had never lost their Estates the old attachment was impaired by a new democratic feeling. Much as they varied in constitution from Province to Province, the Estates had almost everywhere an aristocratic character which no longer contented the Third Estate. While, therefore, the members of the Estates were usually disposed to insist upon their pre­rogative of electing deputies to the States General, the aggrieved class usually welcomed the royal regulations by which that prerogative was ignored. These various feelings led to several defects or anomalies in the elections.

In the little province of Bearn, which to the last bore itself as a kingdom united to Prance upon equal terms, the Estates denounced the royal regulations and declared any election made in conformity with them null and void. Here a national sentiment supported the protest, so that no representatives from Bearn appeared at the opening of the States General. In Britanny it was otherwise. All ranks had joined to resist Brienne’s measures and had carried their resistance to the verge of

rebellion. But now Brienne bad been driven from power, Necker had done everything to soothe the Bretons and the Estates had been con­voked for the end of December. Thereupon a new conflict began between the nobles and commons of Britanny. For the Estates of Britanny were so constituted as to give the First and Second Estates an entire mastery over the Third; and, if the Estates were to elect the deputies, the Third Estate would scarcely have any voice in the election. The nobles and clergy stood upon the historic right of the Estates; the commons resisted; and both parties appealed to the Crown. The debate grew so hot that the government tried to restore peace by suspending the session of the Estates. The clergy and nobles continued to sit in defiance of its orders, while the Third Estate in Rennes and the other towns of the Province formed a confederation to maintain their cause. Then savage riots broke out in Rennes between the aristocrats and the democrats. The regulations of January 24, which decided the issue in a popular sense, were welcomed by the Third Estate, but were denounced as tyrannical by the nobles and the superior clergy. Finally the Third Estate chose its deputies in the manner prescribed; the inferior clergy met in diocesan assemblies for the same purpose; and the nobles and the superior clergy, refusing to elect, remained without a voice in the States General, thus weakening the conservative party by thirty suffrages. In Languedoc and Burgundy little difficulty was felt, as precedents were in favour of direct election to the States General. But in Provence the Estates, which had been lately restored and were eminently aristocratic in character, gave Mirabeau his first opportunity as a defender of popular rights. Here too the government decided that the people, not the Estates, should elect the deputies; and the Estates, though with an ill grace, submitted.

In Dauphine the dections took a form absolutely peculiar. The assembly of Romans, after settling the constitution of the provincial Estates, had gone on of its own authority to fix the method by which the deputies of Dauphin^ in the States General should be chosen. The Estates were to double themselves by the election of one hundred and forty-four members for this purpose only, and the whole body was then to elect the representatives of each of the Orders. The revived Estates met on December 1, 1788, and proceeded early in January to elect the deputies. They adopted a resolution drawn by Mounier enjoining the deputies to record no vote on any other subject until the double representation of the Third Estate, joint deliberation, and vote by head had been secured. These extraordinary proceedings in Dauphine cast a strange light upon the condition of France in 1789. An assembly at first without a vestige of lawful power had given the province a new constitution, and had determined how its deputies to the States General should be chosen. In the one instance it had overruled, in the other instance it had forestalled the will of the government. In

neither case had the government presumed to resist or even to blame this usurpation. The impotence of the sovereign and the dissolution of the kingdom could not be more .clearly shown.

The elections were held in Paris later than anywhere else. In this delay some have seen the subtle policy of Ministers, anxious to prevent the capital of France and centre of European civilisation from taking its proper place at the head of the great revolutionary movement; and the suspicion might seem plausible, if we merely remembered that Paris soon became the focus of rehellion and remained for nearly a hundred years the constant anxiety of the different governments that have ruled over France. But it may be safely affirmed that early in 1789 few men thought of Paris as a dangerous city. If anywhere in France the conservative forces might have been thought to be strong in Paris. A capital must always contain a larger proportion of the upper class; and even the vices of government may stimulate the prosperity of a capital. In. Paris a vast number of the inhabitants either held places in connexion with the Parlement, or ministered to the pleasures' of the rich of all nations who even then abounded there. The citizens of Paris suffered little from the tax-gatherer, and nothing from feudal rights. The fortunes of Paris and the monarchy had hitherto been nseparable; and every annexation of territory, every encroachment on local inde­pendence, had brqught gain to Paris. A city of seven hundred thousand inhabitants was kept in order by two regiments of infantry and a singularly weak police. The elections were delayed merely because the government wished as far as possible to observe ancient claims of right. The Provost of the Merchants who, although a royal nominee, represented the municipality of Paris as it then stood, and the Provost of the City, who was more directly the King’s representative, disputed the right of presiding over the election; nor was it until much paper had been blotted and many weeks spent that a regula­tion of March 28, supplemented by another of April 13, gave the preference to the Provost of the City and settled the manner of the elections.

Ten deputies were assigned to the clergy, ten to the nobles, and twenty to the Third Estate. Owing to the size of Paris, the principle of indirect election was enforced for all three Orders. The clergy alone held a single general assembly, to choose one hundred and fifty electors who were to elect its deputies. For the nobles, Paris was divided into twenty departments. Departmental assemblies were to choose one hundred and fifty noble electors. Thus the nobles of Paris, alone in France, were deprived of the right of directly choosing their representa­tives in the States General. The Third Estate was to choose three hundred electors in the assemblies of sixty districts newly formed for that purpose. The Provost of Paris was to convoke the first two Orders, and the Provost of the Merchants was to convoke the assemblies of the

Third Estate. The qualification of voters in this Estate was so far peculiar that persons not members of any gild or corporation were not entitled to vote unless they paid six livres of capitation, But this require­ment was so easily satisfied that the eleptors of Paris in 1789 have been estimated at sixty thousand. Strong protests were made against the regulations on three grounds: first, that the presidents of the electoral assemblies were servants of the Crown; secondly, that the nobles did not choose their deputies directly, as elsewhere; and thirdly, that the three Estates did not meet in one assembly as the commune of Paris for the joint election qf their representatives. As time pressed, however, the citizens contented themselves with protesting.

The clergy of Paris showed a temper which may be explained by the fact that Paris was the centre of anti-clerical feeling. Their cahier, though fairly liberal in its political clauses, betrayed a bitter religious intolerance; and all their ten deputies, headed by the Archbishop of Paris, were highly conservative.

The electors of the noblesse had taken upon themselves to add to their number all the supplementary members chosen by the primary assemblies, and then numbered two hundred and ~^:ght. Ten holders of fiefs within the walls were admitted to vote in their own right. The ten noble deputies were fljl of a liberal complexion. Among them may be noted the Comte de Clermont-Tonnerre, the Comte de Lally Tollendal, the Due de la Rochefpuca,uld, Adrien Duport. who became conspicuous among the radicals of the National Assembly, and Lepelletier de Saint- Fargeau, who lived to be a Jacobin martyr. The cahier entrusted to these deputies was remarkable in the extent of the reforms which it demanded. Nowhere else did the nobles live so much in the current of new ideas as in Paris. Nowhere else was theoretical liberalism, at least, so fashionable. Nowhere else were social baj-riers more easily sur­mounted than in Paris, where new men were always rising and the power of intelligence and of wealth, as distinct from rank, was most fully manifested.

The Third Estate did not at first display any uncommon ardour. Nq doubt some felt the glow described by Bgilly. “When I found myself in the midst of the assembly of my district,” he writes, “I thought that I breathed a new air; it was strange to be something in the political order, and in virtue of one’s simple quality of citizen of Paris.” Yet Bailly noted that the attendance was not very full. “In those early times we were wont to count upon a great energy in the Provinces, and perhaps upon the slackness of the city pf Paris.” It appears that, out of possibly sixty thousand persons qualified, not more than twelve thousand recorded their votes. The electors of the Third Estate, using the same freedom as the electors of the noblesse, raised their number to four hundred and seven. Of these, one hundred and seventy were lawyers ; one hundred and thirty-seven merchants, shopkeepers, or artisans; thirty^

two belonged to the official class; and the rest might be regarded as professional men or men of letters. When the primary elections had been completed and the electors of the Third Estate had met, it was proposed that they should draw up their cahier jointly with the other two orders; but the proposal was negatived, and things took their usual course. The electors declined to allow any official presidency, choosing as their president Target, a lawyer, afterwards conspicuous in the National Assembly, and as their secretary Jean-Sylvain Bailly, the eminent astronomer, destined to a brief popularity and a tragic death. It is needless to say that all the deputies of the Th^: > Estate were men zealous for reform. Out of the twenty, nine were lawyers, six were merchants or men of business, one was a doctor, one a receiver-general of finance, one an academician, and two were authors. The academician was Bailly, who headed the list. One of the authors was Sieyes, whose services to the Third Estate were held to outweigh the irregularity of choosing a clergyman. The business of electing these deputies was not begun till a week after the States General had met at Versailles. It was not until May 25 that the deputies of Paris joined their colleagues. The electors of Paris constituted themselves a permanent assembly to correspond with their representatives—an irregular though not an unexampled proceeding, which had memorable consequences.

As the elections drew to a close and the composition of the approaching States General and the nature of the cahiers became known, the Ministers had a last chance of taking the initiative in the revolution. Malouet, who- had warned Necker and Montmorin before, was so much alarmed at the rising commotion of the public that he made another effort to rouse the Ministers to action. He implored them to condense into a programme the proposals common to most of the cahiers and thus put themselves at the head of the main body of opinion. It is true that he took as the type of the cahiers that which he had induced his own electors at Riom to accept and which expressed the wishes of the Third Estate in their most moderate form. So little, however, did Necker or Montmorin understand the real drift of the time that they objected to Malouet the danger of alienating the nobles and the clergy from the Crown by too much concession to the people. Necker overrated his popularity so much as to think that he could hold the balance between parties in the assembly. But Necker must not bear all the blame. Even had he understood the pgril, he could not have induced the King to yield all that most of the cahiers of the Third Estate demanded. Louis had no penetration; he distrusted Necker; and he was ever open to the solicitation and intrigue of those who hoped to drive Necker from office. Thus the government could do nothing but passively await the onset of reforming zeal. We must add that this helplessness was approved by men of the most conflicting politics. Malouet found to his amazement that the most reasonable

persons in all parties thought that the King should propose no plan, but should simply wait for the resolutions of the States General. The more stubborn of the nobles and clergy denied to the King any power to modify the old constitution. The democrats main­tained that a constitution could be made only by the deputies of the people.

When the States General were complete, they numbered 308 clergy­men, 285 nobles, and 621 representatives of the Third Estate—a total of 1214. Among the ecclesiastical members only one-third belonged to the higher ranks, including 46 prelates and 55 abbes, and only 7 were monks, a singular proof of the unpopularity of the regulars, even in their own profession. The remaining two-thirds were cures, generally ill-disposed towards their superiors and well-disposed towards the Third Estate. The clergy, thus divided, could ill repel any attack upon its privileges. Among the nobles 265 belonged to the noblesse of the sword and only 20 to the noblesse of the robe. The heads of the legal profession and the members of the superior Courts, in some respects the most conservative of the nobility, were therefore but slightly represented in the States General. The noblesse of the sword comprised 125 nobles of the Court and 140 provincial nobles. Here also was a feud only less bitter than the feud which paralysed the clergy. Among the deputies of the Third Estate were three or four ecclesiastics like Sieyes and 15 nobles,; of whom Honore de Mirabeau is the best known. There were about a score of royal and a somewhat larger number of municipal officers. Merchants, bankers, and citizens of independent fortune numbered about 130. There were about 15 doctors, and about 40 peasants or farmers. But most numerous among the deputies were the lawyers. There were about 150 persons holding various places in the judicial system, and upwards of 210 barristers, notaries, and other members of the legal profession. More than half of the deputies of the Third Estate were therefore lawyers, who represented' as a rule not the conservatism of the Parlements, but the angry discontent of the middle class, and had as little in common with the chiefs of the profession as the cures had with the Bishops.

If we consider the representatives of the Third Estate as a whole, we must acknowledge that they were men of respectable character and good education, steeped in the fashionable philosophy, especially in the writings of Rousseau, proud of their intelligence, industry, and orderly lives, and resentful of the arrogance and frivolity of the nobles, inexperienced, sanguine, and full of dogma. The unhappy mutual alienation of classes in France, and the, social barrier between town and country, denied any adequate representation of that part of the commons whose minds had been enlarged by commerce and industry on a grand scale, and who might have been cautious because they had everything to lose by rashness. In old France the lawyers were almost

the only class of educated laymen other than nobles to be found in the country districts; and therefore the country lawyers had an excessive sway in the National Assembly. The keenest of all the adverse critics of the Revolution has marked this weakness. “The general compo­sition,” Burke wrote, “ was of obscure provincial advocates, of stewards of petty local jurisdictions, country attomies, and the whole train of the ministers of municipal litigation, the fomentors and conductors of the petty War of village vexation. From the moment I read the list, I saw distinctly and very nearly as it has happened, all that was to follow.”

In the actual course of events the Orders were merged, and the curis gave the Third Estate a decisive majority. From a body thils composed we might expect alertness in discovering abuses and zeal to remedy them* but scarcely any large or deliberate wisdom. We fcdtild not hope for a wide outlook upon society, or for tact or patience in dealing with vast and complex interests. Nor could the other Estates supply what was wanting to the commons. Many of the nobles and Some of the superior clergy were full of generous and humane enthusiasm; but they were also without political experience. The rancour between classes abated their influence in the assembly, and the unfortunate legislation regarding the Church at length drove almost all clergymen into oppo­sition. The National Assembly contained many excellent members of committee, but very few statesmen, and to them it rarely listened. No wonder, therefore, that it should have made many good laws, but have failed entirdy to govern.

But the members of the States General, as We have seen, were not left to the guidance of their own judgment. They bore Written instruc­tions which were singularly full and precise. In order to understand their action we must begin with analysing their cahiers.

The value of the cahiers of 1789 to the historian of the French Revolution has long been acknowledged. It is true that the States General of that year met under circumstances and were moved by an impulse differing from anything known before and that they did not consider themselves bound by their instructions so straitly As did their medieval predecessors. Yet it remains true that the National Assembly accomplished almost nothing which was not suggested in one or other of the cahiers. All its most memorable enactments, even thbse most doubtful on the score of wisdom or of justice, were forestalled in some cahiers at least of the Third Estate. Instructions so full and precise necessarily had weight with the deputies; partly because tradition, as we have said, pointed that way and deputies to the States General had always been regarded more as agents or as messengers than as senators; partly because the political theory then in fiashion, the theory of Rousseau, placed sovereign power exclusively in the general body of the citizens; partly because political inexperience hindered the public

from seeing how unwise it was to bind legislators too tightly and thus preclude them from feeling their joint responsibility for the welfare of all France.

The cahiers are of two kinds. First there are those of each of the three Estates in the d Cerent bailliages and senichamsees. The clergy and the nobles respectively drew up in each case a cahier, which they entrusted to their deputies. But the cahier of the Third Estate was compounded out of those drawn up by the primary assemblies of the different towns and parishes. These last, numbering many thousands, have never been published as a whole; but so many have been printed that we can form a very good opinion of their character. They are far more varied and they go much more into detail, than the cahiers finally drawn up for the bailliages. Upon the whole they give a keener sense of reality. In order to decide finally upon the historical worth of either class of cahier» we must, however, trace the method by which they were compiled.

The cahiers were very generally composed upon certain patterns circulated through France at the time of the elections. To the influence of these models we may partly ascribe the surprising uniformity in the cahiers. It is true that their scope is boundless. In one or other almost every conceivable thing is demanded, from a declaration of the rights of man down to a better distribution of the lamps in the streets of Paris. Yet, when we put aside grievances merely local or trivial, for which redress is sought from the State merely because it had undertaken to regulate everything, and crotchets which an individual or a clique has persuaded the neighbours to adopts we are impressed with a certain monotony in the cahiers. It is not an absolute monotony; there are differences in form and substance corresponding to the differences in character, intelligence, occupations, and interests between different bodies of electors. We can see that the models were most effective by way of suggestion; we cannot assert that they were blindly followed. We may suppose that they exerted upon the draftsmen of the cahiers the same kind of influence which the political programme adopted by party chiefs exerts upon the election addresses of their followers. The models Were meant to embody the supposed wishes of the bulk of the French nation; and each neighbourhood learnt, sometimes perhaps with surprise-, what its wishes were. To be more precise in judgment would, with our information, be hazardous.

We may next enquire who drew up the individual cahiers. The cahiers of the bailliages and senechauss&es were in all cases drawn up by educated men, those of the Third Estate usually by professional men, members of an intelligent, ambitious, discontented middle class, who had read Montesquieu, Rousseau, and the Physiocrats—men steeped in the new ideas of the age, whose workmanship gave a fresh degree of uniformity to the cahiers, because this class throughout France was really very

much the same and formed one naturally coherent party. The cahiers of the villages and country towns were the work of men of every degree of cultivation. Sometimes—but this was rare—they were drawn up by a man of letters or an Economist, who lived in the country; and then they display a logical symmetry and literary elegance which the Academy might have condescended to applaud, and which must have astonished the petty farmer or shopkeeper. More often they were the work of such professional men as the country-side could afford, the notary or the cure, whose imperfect culture betrays itself in overcharged or even grotesque rhetoric. Sometimes—-but this is not comraon^-they seem to be the actual composition of humble folk, who could not frame a sentence or even spell correctly. The little towns or villages occasionally, no doubt, saved themselves all further trouble by adopting in gross one of the models then circulating through France, or an elaborate cahier drawn up for a neighbouring commune by some inhabitant of unusual influence or ability. In all these ways it happened that the statement of grievances put forth on behalf of the common people was not the work exactly of the common man. But this must always be the case; and here again we are not entitled to suppose that it was drawn up regardless of the real feelings of those whose grievances it rehearsed, or that they exerted no choice as to the form which it took. Once more we have to strike a balance between that which the people gave and that which was given to them.

Upon the whole, then, the uniformity of the cahiers is a proof, though not an absolute proof, of the general emotion which then pervaded the greater part of the French people. When trying to estimate the truthful­ness of the cahiers we must remember that the public were invited to complain, in which case complaint will always be loud and bitter; and no man better knows how to complain than the small farmer struggling with taxes, tithes, and manorial dues. The cahiers are not to be viewed as a dispassionate account of old French society in all its good as well as in its evil aspects. They are statements of grievances, and thus record solely what was bad or was thought to be so. We must allow, too, for the style of expression then current with all who read and wrote. Rousseau had brought sensibility into fashion, and he who would be thought a man of virtue had to live in a laboured state of tenderness. In the cahiers of 1789 we are often vexed with that vague and tearful rhetoric which flowed so copiously in all the assemblies of the Revolution. But we often read also the touching complaints of those who really worked and really suffered. In short, no summary judgment can be passed upon this enormous mass of documents. The cahiers are not to be read with blind assurance of their constant and literal truth; and still less are they to be lightly cast aside as the device of professional agitators. When all allowances have been made, they show how much was amiss in France; and they show what reforms were desired by Frenchmen.

1789]

The political reforms proposed.

131

In so far as purely political change is demanded, the caMers of all three Estates have much in common. All ranks and conditions of men were weary of despotism. The nobles and the clergy no less than their inferiors desired a balance of powers, a constitution. It is true that the cahiers of the First and Second Estates often imply that a constitution already exists, and has only to be restored and strengthened, while the caMers of the Third Estate usually assume that a constitution has to be made. The difference was full of meaning, for the clergy and nobles desired a somewhat aristocratic liberty, which could only be based on tradition and precedent, since it was not in accord with the spirit of the time or the wish of the majority. They wanted to limit the power of the Crown, without losing their distinctive privileges, and did not know that the Crown was less unpopular than themselves. The Third Estate preferred to ignore the old institutions of France as never expressly approved by the people, and so leave the legislature free to mould the constitution to meet their wishes. Their cahiers often imply that the States General are to make the new constitution, thus putting the King on one side and leaving him a mere provisional sovereign until the new order is established.

That part of the cahiers which refers to the constitution usually begins with demanding that the government of France be declared a hereditary monarchy, descending to the males of the House of Bourbon; and this is indeed the one part of the actual system which it is desired to preserve. The States General are to be convoked at regular intervals, the persons of their members are to be inviolable, and their debates are to be public. We often meet with the demand that the States General should not be dissolved without their own consent. The executive power is to remain with the King, but the taxing power is to be in the Estates, and is taken to include the control of loans and what in England is known as the appropriation of supply. The legislative power is to belong to the Estates acting jointly with the King. As a rule it is not proposed to leave the King any initiative in legislation, and some cahiers would allow him only a suspensive veto upon measures which have been passed by the National Assembly. But the ministers are to be appointed and dismissed by the King, for they are the organs of the executive power which resides in him. We find in the cahiers no inkling of the cabinet system, which was already at work in England, although as yet imperfect and not clearly apprehended even by the acutest political writers. The maxim of Montesquieu that the only security for freedom is the separation of the executive and legislative powers, which was then hardly questioned even in England, which has left its impress on the constitution of the United States, and which was received by Frenchmen smarting under the evils of unlimited monarchy as absolute truth, was destined to give a very unfortunate bias to the law-making of the revolutionary period. The cahiers, it is true, insist upon the

138

Specific demands.

responsibility of ministers to the law and to the nation. But the responsibility which they contemplate is always criminal. They all demand that a minister who has broken the law shall undergo the penalty of the law. Political responsibility, the liability of a minister to lose his place as soon as he loses the confidence of Parliament, is so far from their intention that they generally demand the exclusion of ministers from that assembly.

Together with the remodelling of the national government the cahiers desire the remodelling of provincial and municipal institutions, which are all to become elective. The reforms of Necker and Brienne in this field are not condemned, but they are not thought sufficient. It is sometimes expressly said, and it is often clearly meant, that the whole of the ancient bureaucratic system, the Intendants and all their staff, should be abolished. The difficulty attending such a complete revo­lution in old habits and feelings seems not to have occurred to those who drew the cahiers. The necessity of subordinating the municipal to the national authorities was also forgotten. Both of these oversights were repeated in the Constitution of 1791.

The cahiers do not merely seek to divide the powers of govern­ment; they are equally concerned to insist upon the liberties of the citizen. Many of them demand a formal declaration of the rights of man as the preface to the new constitution. All classes in France fervently desired what an eminent English jurist terms “the reign of law,” the supremacy of general rules instead of the ever-varying dis­cretion of the sovereign and his ministers. The right of personal freedom is claimed with touching emphasis. The suppression of extra­ordinary tribunals and arbitrary arrest is loudly called for. Imprison­ment by lettre de cachet is universally denounced, although many cahiers are disposed to allow it under certain safeguards where the honour and happiness of families are imperilled by the misconduct of an individual. The right of property is asserted with almost equal vigour. It is involved in the demands that taxation should be uniform, that ground should not be taken for public works without punctual payment in full, and that the fund-holders should be satisfied. But the hatred called forth by arbitrary government is most vehemently expressed in certain demands affecting the army. Some cahiers ask that the foreign corps, which formed so considerable a part of the French army, should be disbanded. Many cahiers wish to deprive the ministers of all control over the troops in favour of the municipal authorities or to make the soldier swear that he will never use his arms against his fellow-citizens. Frenchmen had felt the sting of despotism; they did not know how soon they were to feel the more cruel torment of anarchy.

Where the cahiers of the clergy and nobles usually differ from the cahiers of the commons, is in wishing to preserve the distinctive character of the three Estates. The two Orders wish the national assembly to

remain an assembly of Estates; and with hardly an exception they wish each Estate to form an independent Chamber, deliberating and voting by itself. They would retain most of the ancient privileges, save the exemption from taxes, which is generally renounced; while the cahiers of the Third Estate claim substantial equality, above all free admission to every preferment civil, military, and ecclesiastical. Still more urgently do they insist upon deliberation in common and vote by head in the approaching States General. Forestalling the march of events, the Third Estate of Dijon intimates that in case of resistance, the representatives of the commons should join with such nobles or clergymen as may be willing to form a national assembly and remodel the State by their own authority. All three Estates desired political freedom and self-government; but the First and Second desired an aristocratic, the Third a democratic, type of society.

With regard to law and justice, the Third Estate has many more complaints than the other two. It suffered more from the abuses of the judicial system than they did. The members of the higher Courts of justice were a privileged class, mostly noble and bound by many ties to the rest of the nobility. The lower Courts of justice were mbstly seigniorial and in the possession of the First and Second Estates. It is in the cahiers of towns and parishes that we find the most minute and acrid complaints of the way in which justice is administered. All the Estates agreed, it is true, in calling for uniform justice and in denouncing extraordinary Courts and arbitrary intervention by the executive power. Similarly we find in cahiers of all three Estates the demand for a humane criminal law and a better criminal procedure. Publicity of criminal trials, permission to the accused to avail himself of counsel, and the decision of guilt or innocence by a jury, are demanded in cahiers of all the Orders. But the cahiers of the Third Estate ask for much more. Very often they desire a complete recasting of the judicial system. They ask for such a rearrangement of the Courts as shall make justice readily accessible to all, limit the number of appeals, and save time and expense. They ask that the judicial office shall no longer be purchaseable or hereditary, often indeed that it shall be in some measure elective. They ask that the judges shall be irremovable. They wish the judges to be paid by salaries, not by fees. The Parlements are very seldom mentioned with favour, and are often denounced with a bitterness which proves how extinct was their somewhat unreal popularity. The seigniorial Courts are as a rule disliked. A cahier here and there dwells on the advantage of having close at hand a Court where petty disputes may be settled, and even suggests that the decision of the seigniorial judge should be made final where the value at stake is below a certain figure. But the general drift of the cahiers runs the other way. They allege that the judges in the feudal Courts, appointed, paid, and dismissed by the seigneur,

140                           The financial reforms suggested.                    [i789

cannot be impartial as between him and his vassals. They allege that he is often unqualified, or non-resident, or careless. They complain that the seigneur neglects the duty of criminal prosecntion because it would cause expense, and that for the same reason the seigniorial prisons are not properly maintained. They insist, too, on the extraordinary inter­lacing of feudal jurisdictions and the difficulty in many cases of deciding to what feudal court the litigant should go. Upon the whole the Third Estate was ready to extirpate every trace of feudalism from the administration of justice and to reserve it entirely for the Crown and the nation.

The financial reforms demanded in the cahiers would alone amount to a revolution. Upon the suppression of privilege in taxation the three Estates were virtually agreed. The clergy without exception concede this point, although in some bailliages they wish to retain the power of assessing payments by clergymen. Only in five bailliages do the nobles demur to forgoing the privilege, although in a few more they ask for relief to the poorest members of the class. The Third Estate is of course unanimous on this point, sometimes grateful to the others for their public spirit, sometimes inclined to treat their surrender as a tardy atonement for prolonged injustice. The Estates are also agreed as to the chief means for protecting the State against the chronic deficits of the past. They agree in reserving the power of taxation and appro­priation to the representatives of the people, in requiring the regular publication of accounts of revenue and expenditure, and in demanding the responsibility of ministers. They call for rigorous economy, especially in pensions, which had always attracted disproportionate notice; but they acknowledge that the nation is bound to make good the deficit and to satisfy the claims of the public creditor, although one or two cahiers suggest that the interest on the debt might be reduced without injustice. What is more serious is that most cahiers, especially of the Third Estate, condemn the whole fiscal system on two grounds, one speculative and the other practical. All the existing taxes have been imposed without the consent of the people, and are therefore unlawful, although the representatives of the people may continue them until a new system has been established. Almost all the existing taxes are also condemned as unwise and oppressive, in fact economically pernicious. The direct taxes, taille, capitation, and vimgtiemes, and nearly all the indirect taxes —the gabelle, the aides, the duties on iron, leather, and various other articles—are condemned. Only two considerable sources of revenue are spared: the customs and the stamps on certain classes of documents. Even here radical changes are required, for customs duties are hence­forward to be levied on the frontiers only, and the stamp duties are to be revised and lowered. In proposing new sources of revenue the authors of the cahiers have been influenced partly by the teaching of the Physiocrats, partly by democratic ideas, partly by the special needs

and prejudices of the country population. Generally speaking direct taxation is preferred to indirect, not ten cahiers in all favouring the continuance of indirect taxes other than the customs. A direct tax is to be imposed on all the land of the kingdom; and it is sometimes suggested that this should be taken in kind. A direct tax is to be laid on property other than land and on the gains of trades and professions. Special taxes upon articles of luxury are often recommended. It is the general wish of the cahiers that the assessment and collection of taxes should be entrusted to the provincial and municipal assemblies. All desire to end the practice of farming the taxes. With a view to the extinction of the debt many cahiers advise that the domain of the Crown should be sold; a few suggest the sale of the lands of the Church. It is characteristic of the time and the people that this prodigious series of reforms is regarded as something which can be effected with little trouble or delay. Only two cahiers, it is said, and those drawn up by the clergy, recognise that this financial renovation will be a work of time.

When the cahiers touch upon the affairs of the Church, the diver­gence between the three Estates becomes very notable. The clergy themselves, while consenting to forgo all exemption from taxes, wish to retain their property and honorary privileges intact. They ask that the nation shall take over the debt of the clergy as having been incurred for public purposes. The changes which they recommend in the application of endowments are few and restricted. They jealously insist on main­taining the supremacy of the Catholic Church and the authority of their Order. Even when they disclaim any wish to persecute heretics who do not defy or insult the established faith, they protest against the permis­sion of any public worship other than the Catholic, and even against the civil equality of heretics with the faithful. Often they demand that the edict of 1787 conceding the civil status to Protestants be revised. They very generally demand severe penalties against the authors and publishers of infidel books, to which they ascribe the flagrant immorality and iireligion of the time. They often desire the restoration of national and provincial councils, the strict maintenance of ecclesiastical jurisdiction, and a restraint on the royal right known as the regale. They condemn the suppression of religious Houses, which had been going on for many years past, and desire that hereafter none be suppressed save in con­formity with the Canon Law. They often ask that all colleges should be entrusted to the teaching confraternities, and that all places of educa­tion should be supervised by the Ordinary. In short they demand that in many respects the State should do more for the Church than it had done hitherto.

The tone of the nobles towards the Church is very different. They usually express a wish, it is true, that the privileges of the clergy other than exemption from taxes should be preserved; but they show no desire

to increase the power of the Church or to lessen the freedom of the laity. The demand that the Catholic Church should remain dominant is not so often repeated as the demand for toleration. The nobles, like other laymen, evidently approved as a body the growing freedom of opinion. Some at least of the nobles would approve the suppression of religious Houses and the diversion of some ecclesiastical endowments to new pur­poses. When we come to the cahiers of the Third Estate, especially the countless cahiers of towns and parishes, we understand how the founda­tion of the power of the Church in the good-will of the laity had been shaken, and how the actual state of the Church excited the anger of many who were not conscious of rejecting her doctrines. The cahiers seldom contain anything relating to doctrine or worship. The desire for complete religious freedom is generally expressed in the cahiers of the bailli'iges, the work of a class possessing considerable culture. But alike in them and in the ruder statements of grievances drawn up by the primary assemblies, the material condition of the Church and its share in the national wealth are perpetual themes of complaint. The parochial clergy, it is true, are usually mentioned with respect, often with affection, as hardworking, pious, and benevolent men; and it is desired time after time that they should have a better livelihood. If they were properly endowed they could dispense with the camel—^the fees for marriages, baptisms, etc.—and the quite or glane—the periodic demand of dues from their parishioners. But it would be hard to find any cordial mention of the Bishops and Archbishops. The regular clergy are more unpopular still. They are again and again denounced as wealthy, idle, and avari­cious, drawing large sums in tithe and rent from parishes where they dispense no charity, and will not even contribute to the stipend of the priest or the repair of the fabric. Some cahiers insist that the tithes they hold should be restored to the respective parishes and used for religion, charity, and education. Others wish to see dwindling commu­nities more rapidly suppressed; and a few would do away with all religious Orders not engaged in active teaching or benevolence. Their estates might then be sold to pay off the public debt. Tithe, to whomsoever paid, was naturally disliked by the peasants, who ask to have it extin­guished or at least reduced. A few carry thrift so far as to complain of all payments to the Court of Rome or even to suggest the institution of a French patriarch. Now and then a cahier anticipates the National Assembly by demanding that the State should enter upon the endow­ments of the Church and should pay a fixed stipend to all the clergy whose services may be thought necessary.

But it is in regard to the agrarian system that the cahiers of the Third Estate differ most materially from those of the clergy and the nobles, who usually demand the fiill recognition of their proprietary rights, including all manorial claims. The Third Estate on the contrary expresses a general desire for the extinction of feudal rights. And when

we pass from the cahiers of the bailliages and sinichaussees to the original cahiers of the country parishes, we find that the feudal rights are the peculiar object of the peasant’s hate. In some of these cahiers little is said about any other grievance. Among the manorial burdens perhaps the mqst odious were the so-called banalites, the lord’s exclusive right to have a mill, oven, winepress, or oilpress for the use of the tenants. The lord’s right to have a dovecote was almost as great a grievance. Many of the village cahiers ask that if this right be retained, the pigeons may at least be shut up in seed-time and harvest, or that the peasants may be allowed to shoot them. A long list of manorial rights prevailing in different neighbourhoods, such as a right of the lord to use the peasants’ cattle in drawing stones for the mill or a right of the lord to employ the peasants in clearing out the moat round his house, and others, of which the nature is sometimes obscure, are recorded and denounced in these cahiers. The various payments to the lord in money or in kind are of course unpopular. Usually it is proposed to commute all manorial rights having a definite money value at so many years’ purchase, although in some cases the offer of compensation is omitted. Occasionally a cahier proposes other agrarian reforms, such as the abolition of entail or the enforcement of equal or nearly equal partition between children. But in most cases the cahiers of the peasants are confined to grievances which they felt directly. Among these the over-preservation of game must not be for­gotten. The cahiers of Paris outside the walls affirm that during the last twelve years the country-folk have been forced to sow their com and vegetables twice over, and in winter have had to guard their vines and trees against the teeth of the hares by wrapping them round with straw. The grievance was still greater when the an^;: lals thus protected were fierce and destructive.

Few burdens are so often denounced by the peasants as that of the militia service. Time after time the cahiers complain of the loss incurred by those who have to attend the balloting, of the subscription which, contrary to law, the young fellows who had escaped made for their comrade on whom the lot fell, and of the discredit attaching to those who served in the militia. At least one cahier asserts that men had been known to mutilate themselves in order to avoid service. Many cahiers suggest that the parishes should be allowed to hire an equivalent number of volunteers. When we think how few recruits were taken and how easy was the service required, and how patiently the French have since endured the severest conscription with far greater chances of death and disablement, we are almost forced to conclude that the rhetoric of the cahiers was somewhat overcharged. It is true that unjust exemptions from the ballot and other abuses might make them impatient of a burden in itself not very grievous.

Many of the other reforms demanded in the cahiers are of the highest significance. They anticipated Napoleon in desiring the career open to

144

The general character of the demands.

[l789

talent, for they ask over and over again that all citizens should be equally eligible to all preferment, civil, military, or ecclesiastical, that nobles should be enabled to practise any profession or engage in commerce without derogating, and that the gilds and all other forms of restraint on the free exercise of ability should be extinguished. They ask, often it is true in vague terms, that education should be reformed and provided at the public expense. They demand the suppression of mendicity, and an orderly system for relieving distress without encouraging idleness. They desire the reform of hospitals and prisons. They claim the eman­cipation of the last remaining serfs at home and the abolition of the slave trade in the colonies. These and many other fruitful ideas are to be found in cahiers, not only of the Third Estate, but also of the nobles and clergy. For the spirit of improvement was widely diffused, and the love of mankind which was on the lips of all was in the hearts of many.

He must be wanting in human sympathy who feels no response in his own soul to this generous ardour of a great people, this zeal to redress inveterate injustice and set order in place of confusion. The wide sweep of the French Revolution was the secret of its charm for mankind as well as a cause of its partial failure. The French undoubt­edly attempted far too much, and with means the most imperfect; for a working parliamentary system is the slow result of time and labour. Practice, discipline, party organisation, the feeling of responsibility raised in those who censure by the knowledge that they may presently have to govern, the control exerted by a public accustomed to hear all sides and to learn from all—these are barely enough to secure judgment and fore­thought in a parliament working under normal conditions. In 1789 a new assembly of untrained men was set between a weak, discredited, bankrupt government and a people rapidly passing beyond control, and in the midst of anarchy essayed not merely to govern but to create a government, nay more, to reconstruct a society which had lasted many centuries and numbered many millions of citizens. The enterprise was so much beyond human power that we cannot wonder if the National Assembly succeeded in destroying far more than it could rebuild.

CHAPTER VI

THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY, AND THE SPREAD OF ANARCHY.

The place of meeting for the States General had been discussed in the Royal Council. With a foreboding of the danger which might ensue if they met in Paris, Barentin, the Keeper of the Seals, had suggested Soissons or some other provincial town conveniently situated. Necker demurred to the expense of removing the Court in the actual distress of the Treasury. He would have preferred Paris as the place of assembly, because in Paris the fund-holders were most numerous and had most power over public opinion—a weighty recommendation in the eyes of a financier who desired the convocation of the States General chiefly as a means of restoring the national credit. But the majority of the councillors wished the States General to meet at Versailles, where the King, Court, and Ministers were already established, thus saving time and trouble and causing no break in the comfortable tenour of their own lives. The King decided in favour of Versailles, and the palace of Louis XIV became the birthplace of modern democracy, as it afterwards became that of the German Empire.

As to the graver question, what should be done with the States General when they met, the King and his Ministers were still without a policy and lost in the forms and traditions of the past. They had not even determined how far they would go in resisting the fusion of the three Estates. The officers of the Court had considered the etiquette suitable to a session of the States General, and, guided only by precedent, had chosen all the forms most apt to emphasise the distinction between the Orders, and therefore to incense those whom it was so important to conciliate. Men of the middle class are naturally disposed to prize the condescension of a sovereign, and Frenchmen have always been sensitive on points of ceremony. Prudence therefore enjoined extreme courtesy towards the Third Estate and the quiet suppression of such antiquated usages as might wound their new sense of power and dignity. The contrary course was taken; and the deputies of the Third Estate were made to feel that they were deemed inferior to the clergy and the nobles.

146

The meeting of the States General.

These deputies, already convinced that the fusion of the Orders was the only means of securing the vast reforms which they desired, were not cowed but exasperated by treatment so injudicious. They immediately engaged in a conflict with the nobles and the superior clergy, who took their stand upon tradition, and, encouraged by the demeanour of the King and his Ministers, sought to preserve for themselves a separate existence and equal power. The King, at length interposing, did far too little to decide the issue, but far too much for his own popularity. It was not until many weeks of precious time had been lost, until party feeling had been fearfully embittered, until the Crown had lost the little influence it still retainedj and France had passed the verge of dissolution, that the Third Estate carried its point and turned the ancient States General into a modem Constituent Assembly.

On Monday, May 4, 1789, took place the religious ceremony which preceded the opening of the session. The deputies of the Three Estates met at the church of Notre Dame and marched in procession to the church of St Louis, where mass was celebrated and the Bishop of Nancy preached a sermon. Although the deputies assembled at seven, the King did not appear until ten o’clock. Agreeably to ancient usage, the members of the Third Estate were plainly attired in black, a morti­fying contrast with the splendid garb of the nobles and prelates. The clergy of Versailles led the way, then came the Third Estate, then the nobles, and after them the clerical deputies, and last of all the King and Queen, surrounded by the Princes and Princesses of the Blood Royal. An immense multitude thronged the streets, the balconies, and the roofs of Versailles. It received the Third Estate with loud applause, the nobles and clergy with indifference. It gave a cordial welcome to the King, but to him alone, for the Princes passed without notice, and the Queen was deeply wounded by the too apparent disfavour of the public. The Bishop’s sermon reflected the inconsistent feelings of many among his audience. While he exhausted his art in describing the misery of the people, especially the intolerable burden of the taxes, he was careful to remind the Third Estate that they must not expect too much, and that the surrender of privilege must always be a matter of grace, not of compulsion. But the deputies, who were not yet in an irritable frame of mind, listened with facile enthusiasm. Indeed the men of our colder age can ill comprehend the ecstasy which was then all but universal. “ Tears of joy flowed from my eyes. My God, my country, my fellow-citizens had become myself.” Such were the emotions of the plain, sensible Ferrieres, a Marquis and a conservative.

On the following day the King opened the session of the States General. The authorities of the palace, inexperienced in the needs of a parliament, had not been judicious in their preparations. For the place of assembly they had chosen the Salle des Menus Plaisirs, merely because it was an enormous room and could be spared. It had been

1789]

Necker's statement.

147

hastily fitted up; and no provision was made to separate the deputies from mere spectators. Although the deputies had been summoned for eight o’clock, the ceremony did not begin till ten; and, while the nobles and clergy passed freely through the great door, the men of the Third Estate were kept waiting in a narrow corridor until the roll of the bailliages had been called. When at length all the deputies had taken their places, the King entered, and in a few words declared the session open. At his command, the Keeper of the Seals then delivered a long oration, in which he dwelt upon a number of reforms proper to employ the attention of the Estates. But the most significant passage was a declaration that the King left the Orders free to determine whether they should sit and vote jointly or separately. When the Keeper of the Seals had ended, Neeker began to read his report on the state of the finances; but it was so long that he found his voice fail and handed it to a secretary. The report was neither candid nor politic. It was not candid, because Necker in his eagerness to show how much had already been done to restore the finances, put the deficit at 56,000,000 livres,. little more than a third of the figures given by Brienne the year before. He did this by ignoring certain expenses styled extraordinary and certain reimbursements of loans contracted by the State, although both were matters of obligation. Nor was the report politic, because Necker, instead of suggesting large reforms, proposed to cover the deficit by a number of expedients, some of them judicious, but all too petty to impress a popular assembly. Like the Keeper of the Seals, he invited the deputies to consider a long list of subjects, and dwelt on the mo­mentous character of their labours, yet spoke of joint deliberation by the three Orders as a procedure which might be useful in some cases, but must in all cases be voluntary. He was applauded as a matter of course; but, when the ceremony was over and the deputies of the Third Estate had time to reflect, they could not but be disappointed; and from this day, although at first by slow degrees, Necker’s popularity began to abate.

It should be noted that, on this memorable occasion the Ministers, while inviting the deputies to an immense range of discussion, did not lay before them any definite proposals on behalf of the Crown. No bills were brought into the States General by the King’s advisers. No attempt was made to utilise for the States General the skill and experience of the public offices. No provision was made for guiding debate into useful channels. The Crown neglected to take that initiative which is of such invaluable consequence in legislation, and left the dearest interests of France at the mercy of a raw, unpractised assembly of twelve hundred men, who were not agreed even upon the primary matter of their own constitution. Yet we should err if we ascribed this procedure, in English eyes so unreasonable, to perversity or to a deep-laid scheme for rendering the States General futile and ridiculous. It originated in nothing worse

than blind adherence to the traditions of a remote age. As we have seen, the States General had never been a legislature in the true sense, nor had the King’s Ministers ever sat in the States General. To petition for the redress of grievances had been the function of the States General; to grant or to withhold redress had been the prerogative of the Crown. When, therefore, the States General were revived after long disuse, it seemed enough that the King through his Ministers should encourage them to ask for reforms and promise his most serious consideration of all their requests. To guide the debates seemed needless; to influence them seemed improper. When certain Breton deputies, more alive to the spirit of the time, assured Bertrand de Molleville of their anxiety to support the Crown and asked for guidance, he consulted Necker, who declined on principle all private communication with members of the States General. As during the elections, so in the first days of the session, the government remained passive and left to chance that direction which it refused to assume. It was soon to learn the consequences of reviving obsolete institutions in a society where everything had become new.

Before the deputies could act, it was necessary that their powers should be verified: in other words, that each should satisfy his colleagues of his right to the character which he claimed. The conflict between the Estates therefore took the form of a dispute as to whether the verification of powers should be joint or separate. On the morning of May 6 the deputies of the Third Estate found themselves alone in the Salle des Menus Plaisirs, the nobles and the clergy having assembled in their respective Chambers. The clergy resolved upon separate verification of powers, but only by 133 voices to 114, a few of the prelates and a great number of the curis voting in the minority. The nobles resolved upon the same course by the decisive majority of 188 to 47, and promptly began the work of verification. As the men of the Third Estate were determined to enforce joint verification, they were in a singular position. For they could not act, they could not even debate without organising themselves in some degree; and they were afraid lest in giving themselves an organisation they should seem to accept the position of a separate Chamber. They were, moreover, a mere crowd of persons unknown to one another, and with less Parliamentary experience than most English schoolboys. Under these difficulties they behaved with constancy and astuteness. They agreed to name the senior deputy present their doyen, and began an informal debate on the question of the hour. Then and afterwards they had an advantage in occupying the hall which had been dedicated to the use of the collective States General, and which was spacious enough to admit the public; while the First and Second Estates, sitting elsewhere and in private, seemed mere fragments of the national representation.

Parties and leaders could not exist in an assembly altogether new, but men soon learn to measure themselves and others in debate, and in

a few days certain members took an acknowledged ascendancy over their fellows. Among these was Mounier, perhaps the best known politician in France, esteemed an oracle upon all questions of Parliamentary pro­cedure, and Sieyes, whose pamphlets had signalised him as the champion of the Third Estate. Among those of a conservative temper Malouet speedily gained a distinction due even more to his character than to his abilities. But these men were presently overshadowed by one who had no recommendations save genius and courage, whose reputation was not far removed from infamy, and who, though it was impossible to despise and difficult to hate him, was deeply distrusted by almost all his colleagues. Honore-Gabriel Riqueti, Comte de Mirabeau, the scion of an ancient Proven9al house, was now in his forty-first year. His father, the Marquis de Mirabeau, a man of rare though perverse talent, and of the strangest, most gnarled character, half feudal lord, half modem philanthropist, was a voluminous writer upon political and economical subjects, a worshipper of Quesnay, a fanatic among the Physiocrats. From early years young Mirabeau gave proof of an overflowing energy, a boundless versatility, a unique power of fascinating men and women, but also of a most irregular and ungovernable temperament. He was incessantly at war with his father, who procured several lettres de cachet for his confinement. He made an unwise and unhappy marriage which resulted, after ten years of scandal, in a judicial decree of separation. By the abduction of Madame Monnier he brought upon himself a capital sentence, never meant to be executed, and a rigorous imprisonment of more than three years in the castle of Vincennes. When he regained his freedom, it was only to break finally with both wife and father. He escaped to a wandering life in England, Prussia, and elsewhere, earned his bread now as a hack writer and now as a secret agent of the French Foreign Office, and came to be recognised by ministers as a useful if not very trustworthy instrument. Seldom has any man destined to greatness led a life not only so immoral but so ignoble as Mirabeau led until he had reached middle age. That he pursued his amours without shame or scruple might admit of palliation in so dissolute a society. But he was lacking in every form of delicacy. Careless of truth, abounding in profusion, unmeasured in his language of enmity or friendship, and too often stooping to dishonourable tricks, such as the unauthorised publication of his correspondence from Berlin when serving the French government, he almost deserved the bitter gibes and reproaches with which his father coupled every mention of his name. And yet Mirabeau had a warm, expansive nature, capable of high ambitions and sensitive to great ideas. Austerely moral men such as Malouet and Romilly were convinced of his disposition to goodness; and, indeed, without some genuine worth he could not have won so many devoted friends.

In the depths of poverty and shame Mirabeau was sustained by a patrician arrogance which sorted oddly with his later character of tribune,

150                          Mirabeau and his assistants.                    [i789

by a most sanguine spirit, and above all by the consciousness of extra­ordinary powers. From the time when the King promised to convoke the States General he felt the assurance of an illustrious career. When Provence recovered its Estates, he offered himself as the champion of the popular party against his own order. In retaliation the nobles denied his claim to a seat among them, on the ground that he was not possessor of a fief, the qualification required by usage in Provence. Their enmity only endeared him the more to the common people. At the time of the elections for the States General he quelled by mere personal influence two formidable outbreaks, in Aix and in Marseilles respectively, and was elected by both cities a deputy for the Third Estate. He preferred to sit for Aix, and returned to Paris already a conspicuous public man.

Mirabeau’s true bent was to action. Although he always read greedily, especially when a prisoner, it was without method and without making himself master of any subject. Although he was a facile writer, turning out translations, histories, essays, pamphlets, and economic dissertations in endless succession, none of his works has any lasting value beyond the light which it sheds on the author. He possessed an extraordinary art of using other men’s minds and appropriating the fruits of their labour. It is impossible to say how much of his books was written by himself. Thus the main drudgery of his famous work On the Prussian Monarchy under Frederick II was done by a certain Major Mauvillon, and Mirabeau only set the impress of his thought and style upon the material. In his brief political career he had many assistants, such as Dumont, Duroveray, Claviere, and Reybaz, who fed his untiring activity with information, with drafts of laws and pamphlets, and even with notes of speeches. Aulard thinks that we cannot positively ascribe to Mirabeau any of the orations which he read in the tribune ; only the improvisations being certainly and entirely his own. Yet none can say that Mirabeau owed power or fame to plagiarism. Nobody has ventured to dispute his genius as an orator. He was a true rhetorician, rhetorical even in his familiar letters, with the full-flowing, vehement rhetoric of the South; but, in spite of all his fire and facility, he was not a debater, for he poured himself forth in a single effort and did not excel in reply. His biographer, Lomenie, endorses Macaulay’s epithet of a Wilkes- Chatham as descriptive of Mirabeau’s peculiar eloquence. A large and powerful frame, a species of heroic ugliness, mobile and expressive features, and a thick mane of dark hair, made up a presence which held and overawed his hearers; and he had the true orator’s voice.

If Mirabeau was original as an orator, he was still more original as a statesman. His natural insight had been sharpened in a life of struggle and adventure. He neither bad the small, systematic mind of the country curb or lawyer, nor shared the illusions of the courtiers and prelates who basked in the splendour of Versailles. The fuller knowledge which we now possess clears him from the old reproach of apostasy, and enables

us to see that his political tendencies remained the same throughout. From the first he perceived that the Revolution was irresistible, and would be far-reaching. He saw that the ancient form of society, and above all the privileged orders, were doomed to disappear. At the same time he honestly desired a real government. “ Do not multiply vain declamations; revive the executive power.” In this spirit he desired to preserve the monarchy, and restore to it as much strength as would be compatible with the Parliamentary system. He looked down upon his colleagues with a disdain, partly of birth, partly of conscious power; and he foretold that they would not stop until they had plunged France into chaos. As early as May, 1789, he had offered the Crown his services to guide and control the Revolution. But his inward tendency was obscured by many outward circumstances. A poor, discredited adventurer, he felt that he must play the demagogue in order to reach the position which he knew himself able to fill. Though proud of his rank, he knew himself despised and rejected by his brother nobles; and his scorn for their incapacity was embittered by resentment. His endeavours towards an understanding with the King and the Ministers were all in vain; they knew his vices, they could not understand his powers, and they saw in him little more than an agitator trying to raise his price. It must be acknowledged too that, with all his energy of character, Mirabeau was unstable. His angry father once declared that for a soul he had only a mirror where everything painted itself and disappeared in an instant. We must not expect to find in Mirabeau’s career that high consistency to which statesmen of firmer and purer nature and less severely tried have sometimes risen.

His first act as a deputy was to publish a journal entitled Journal des iiats gbieraux with the significant motto “Norms rerum nascitur ordo.” In the first number, published on May 5, he had complained of the irritating etiquette imposed on the Third Estate, and had criticised the sermon of the Bishop of Nancy. In the second he made a fierce onslaught upon Necker’s address to the States General. As he had asked no permission to set up his journal, and Ministers were not wont to be thus roughly handled, there forthwith appeared a decree of the Council suppressing it, and another announcing that the actual press regulations would be enforced until the Estates had considered the subject and the King had determined what changes were desirable. Mirabeau replied by bringing out a new journal, Lettres du Comte de Mirabeau a ses commet- tants, thus sheltering himself behind his character of deputy, and began with a fiery denunciation of ministerial despotism. The ever-retreating government then announced that journals and periodicals might publish all that passed in the States General, but must abstain from comment. This proviso was ignored from the first by Mirabeau, and soon by everybody.

Even in the first day’s discussion some hasty spirits among the Third ■

Estate proposed that they should constitute themselves a National Assembly and proceed to business forthwith. Malouet proposed that they should send deputations to argue with the clergy and the nobles; but Mounier objected that by taking this course they would seem to acknowledge themselves a separate Chamber. On the second day Mirabeau, for the first time addressing his colleagues, urged that they should remain passive, but Mounier, changing his mind, supported Malouet and advised negotiations with the nobles and the clergy. The nobles had adjourned until May 11, but the clergy returned an en­couraging answer and announced that they would choose representatives to discuss the subject of verification with the other Estates. The nobles when they reassembled declared themselves a separate Chamber, but accepted the proposed conference. The Third Estate was divided on this point. Le Chapelier, a deputy from Rennes, with Breton vehemence proposed to cut short the controversy by declaring that they would recognise as lawful representatives only those persons whose powers had been verified in a joint assembly. But, after a debate which lasted until May 18, commissioners were nominated to confer with the commissioners of the nobles.

The conferences took place on May 23 and 25, in presence of the representatives of the clergy acting as friendly neutrals. The nobles alleged history and precedent in favour of the separation of the Orders. The commissioners of the Third Estate replied that history and precedent could be quoted for either course, but that reason and justice were in favour of the Orders acting jointly. Neither party was convinced, and the conferences ended without result. The Third Estate, who had meanwhile been considering their own organisation and procedure, now resolved to try an appeal to the clergy. On May 27 they solemnly invited the clergy to a joint verification of powers, and many of the inferior clergy were visibly disposed to join them at once; but the leaders had enough influence to prevent immediate action, and the favourable impulse cooled. At the desire, doubtless, of those who wished to gain time, the King now interposed to enjoin a renewal of the conferences in the presence of the Keeper of the Seals and commissioners specially appointed. The clergy assented at once; the nobles and the Third Estate were for opposite reasons more reluctant; but Mirabeau, faithful to the principle of deference for the Crown, persuaded his colleagues to acquiesce, and at the same time to appoint a deputation which might lay before the King the reasons for their conduct. The conferences were thus renewed and lasted from June 1 to 9; but, none of the middle ways proposed finding favour with both parties, no result ensued beyond loss of time and further exasperation. Meantime the King had treated the Third Estate with siii₆ular want of tact. The illness of his eldest son, which presently proved fatal, was a valid reason for delay in receiving their deputation; but the reluctance to cast aside forms of etiquette which

were considered humiliating was at such a crisis puerile. It was not until June 6 that the deputation was admitted to the royal presence.

The conferences having failed, Sieyes, encouraged by Mirabeau, moved on June 10 that the Third Estate should for the last time invite the clergy and nobles to a joint verification of powers, announcing at the same time that they would proceed to verify forthwith. The proposal was carried by an overwhelming majority; and it was agreed to send a second deputation to the King to state the reasons for this decisive step. As neither the nobles nor the clergy responded to the summons, the Third Estate took action on June 12. Bailly, who chanced to be then acting as doyen, was named provisional President; the roll of the bailliages was called; and the work of verification began. All through that day the deputies were left to themselves; but on the next they were joined by three cures from Poitou, and on June 14 six other clergymen followed the example. On that day the verification of powers was completed; and the Third Estate, now regarding themselves as an actual parliament, had to consider what title they should assume.

The new debate thus begun lasted three days. It was difficult indeed to find an appellation which should express all that the Third Estate and their few adherents claimed to be, and yet not wholly ignore the rights of the other Orders who might possibly come to terms. Various titles, sometimes verging upon the grotesque, were proposed. Sieyes moved that the house should style itself “The Assembly of the known and verified representatives of the French nation.” Barere, objecting to this style on the ground that it assumed too much, offered as an alternative, “legitimate representatives of the majority.of Frenchmen." Mounier, studying accuracy more than effect, gravely suggested that they should call themselves, “The Lawful Assembly of the Representatives of the majority of Frenchmen acting in the absence of the minority.” Always anxious not to push matters to a breach with the King, Mirabeau advised that the House should entitle itself, “The Assembly of the Representatives of the People.” But the deputies did not relish the appellation of representatives of the people, because “people” might be taken as the equivalent of “populace.” In vain Mirabeau urged that the friends of freedom had often assumed names far less honourable, even names devised by the malice of their enemies, and had turned these into badges of glory. Far from having any effect upon jealous and distrustful colleagues, his arguments called forth a storm of abuse and contradiction which even Mirabeau could not encounter. In the midst of this hubbub Legrand, a deputy from Berry, proposed that they should denominate themselves “ The National Assembly.” The term had already been applied to the States General in various pamphlets and cahiers and even by the King himself. It did full justice to the pretensions of the deputies; it was short, dignified, and popular, and, in a word, had so many advantages that Sieyes, catching the sense of his hearers, withdrew his original motion and

adopted the term proposed by Legrand. On the morning of June 17, after a long and fierce debate, the amended motion of Sieyes was carried by 491 voices to 90, although Malouet asserts that the minority would have been far larger but for intimidation.

The die was now cast, and the Revolution had begun. Whatever differences of opinion might be possible regarding the constitution of the ancient States General, it was certain that a single Estate, in assum­ing the character of a national assembly, did something altogether new and altogether exceeding its legal powers. Although it allowed the deputies of the clergy and nobles to enter as individuals, it denied a separate existence to those Estates which in law were its equals. In taking its new title, it shook off all the restraints which tradition had imposed on the action of any one Estate, or of all the Estates together. By doing this without the sanction of the Crown, the supreme legislator for centimes, it advanced a claim to recast the constitution of the kingdom. The spokesmen of the Third Estate could defend their policy only by an appeal to abstract reason and justice, in other words by deny­ing validity to the actual institutions of France. Their favourite argu­ment that the representatives of twenty-four millions of men should prevail over the representatives of two hundred thousand implied, indeed, that no government other than extreme democracy can ever be legitimate, and involved consequences which most of them would hardly have cared to acknowledge. Yet it must be admitted that there were very cogent reasons for this momentous decision of the Third Estate. The historic constitution of the States General was obsolete, and the attempt to revive it was a grave error. Such were the hindrances to reform that a revolution of some kind was perhaps unavoidable. But it was natural that Mirabeau, in his desire to abridge that revolution and to save the authority of the Crown, should have preferred a more modest title. Many months afterwards he said to Dumont, “ Ah ! my friend, how right we were in our unwillingness that the Third Estate should term itself ‘ The National Assembly ’ 1 ”

The Assembly showed itself aware of the true nature of its action by the measures which it now took against a possible attack from the Crown. These measures had been indicated by Mirabeau on June 15, but they were actually drafted and proposed by Target and Le Chapelier. It was decreed that all the existing taxes, although unlawful, not having been sanctioned by the people, should continue to be paid as formerly until the day on which the National Assembly should first separate, after which all taxes not expressly authorised by the nation should cease and determine. The Assembly further declared that, immediately after fixing the principles of the constitution, it would proceed to examine and consolidate the public debt, and that it placed the public creditor under the guarantee of the honour and loyalty of the French nation. It also promised an enquiry at the earliest possible date into the causes and remedies of the

scarcity. The first of these resolutions made it hopeless in the actual state of France for the Crown to levy any taxes unless it remained on good terms with the Assembly. The second enlisted all the fund-holders in the popular cause; and the third appealed to all who were hungry, or who feared to be so. It is true that the assertion of the unlawfulness of the actual taxes made the taxpayers more bold than ever to delay or refuse payment. The revenue became more and more difficult to collect; and the deficit, quite curable at the opening of the States General, became enormous. But the Assembly distrusted the King too much to regret this disorder, and soon found in the confiscation of the Church lands a resource which it fondly thought inexhaustible. Its resolutions were admirably adapted to their immediate purpose, and its skill and vigour contrasted with the slow and feeble measures of its antagonists.

The effect upon the divided and wavering clergy was soon apparent. On June 19 they decided by 128 voices to 127 in favour of the joint verification of powers. The nobles, more united in defence of their privilege, still held firm and voted an address to the King condemning the usurpations of the Third Estate. The King, though displeased, had remained inactive. It was not until the evening of the 17th, when the great debate was over, that his reply to the address voted by the Third Estate on the 10th had come into the hands of Bailly. It contained little more than a censure of the term “ privileged Orders” as applied to the clergy and nobles, and a reproof to the Third Estate for failing in ' deference to their sovereign. Their adoption of the title of “ National Assembly ” and their subsequent resolutions could not but alarm Louis. He resolved to hold a “royal session” and to command the Estates to lose no further time in controversy. For this purpose preparations in the Salle des Menus Plaisirs were needful, and the sittings of the Assembly would have to be interrupted. But, instead of giving formal notice to Bailly as President, the Ministers with discourteous folly sent the workmen into the hall on June 20 and caused placards to be posted, announcing the 22nd as the day of the royal session. Only at the last moment did de Breze, Grand Master of the Ceremonies, inform Bailly by letter that he was about to proclaim the royal session by the voice of heralds. Bailly took no heed, but went with the deputies to their accustomed hall; and, finding the doors shut, adjourned with them to a neighbouring tennis-court. There the deputies, incensed at the discourtesy with which they had been treated and suspecting a resolution on the part of the government to interrupt their sittings, or even to dissolve their assembly, acclaimed Mounier’s proposal that they should take a solemn oath not to separate until the constitution had been established. Only a single deputy, a certain Martin of Auch, refused to swear; and the Oath of the Tennis-Court became one of the most memorable incidents of the French Revolution.

No notice was taken of the oath and no attempt was made to check

the debates of the Assembly, which presently removed its sittings to the church of St Louis. Here, on June 22, the bulk of the clergy, headed by the Archbishops of Vienne and Bordeaux and the Bishops of Rodez, Chartres, and Coutances, came to take their seats beside the commons. Even the nobles were now shaken, and on the same day the Marquis de Blazons and the Comte d’Agoult joined the National Assembly. Mean­time the royal session had been postponed to the 23rd, for the King was as usual irresolute, and his advisers were at variance regarding the tenour of his declarations to the Estates. Necker and his liberal colleagues wished the King to accept with some reserves the principle of joint deliberation, and to announce an ample programme of reform. The conservatives, led by Barentin, altogether rejected joint deliberation and would have had the King promise as few reforms as possible. Necker had the worst in the debate; and the royal declaration, which he had drafted, was modified in Barentin’s sense. Necker did not resign, but, after some hesitation, resolved not to appear at the royal session, thus saving his credit with the people, though rendering himself odious to the King and Queen.

On the morning of the 23rd the deputies reassembled in the Salle des Menus Plaisirs, but not until the Third Estate had suffered a new affront in being forced to wait for some time after the clergy and nobles had taken their seats. The streets of Versailles were lined with troops, and the crowd for the first time received Louis in gloomy silence. After the King had explained the reasons for his interference, a Secretary of State read the royal declaration “ with respect to the holding of the present States General.” It made known the King’s will that the distinction between the three Estates should be observed as an essential part of the Constitution, although they might by mutual consent and with his approval deliberate together when convenient. It annulled the resolutions taken by the Third Estate on June 17, and all directions given by electors to their deputies with regard to joint deliberation and vote by head. From the subjects which might be jointly considered by the three Estates it excluded the form to be given to the next States General, as well as the feudal property and the privileges of the clergy and nobility. The separate consent of the clergy it declared indis­pensable to every decision affecting the Church. Another Secretary of State then read “a declaration of the King’s intentions,” setting forth the reforms which he promised to his people. No new tax was to be imposed, no loan contracted, without the consent of the States General; the accounts of revenue and expenditure were to be published; and the sums appropriated to each department to be fixed beyond possibility of variation. Immunities from taxation were to cease, and the most unpopular taxes to be abolished or amended. Personal servitude was to be suppressed. Provincial Estates were to be established through­out the kingdom. The States General were invited to consider the

suppression of lettres de cachet, the grant of a certain liberty to the press, the reform of the law, and the mitigation of the militia service. But the King expressly reserved to himself entire authority over the army.

When the second declaration had been read the King spoke for the last time, announcing that, if he were abandoned by the States General in the beneficent work of reform, “ alone he would ensure the happiness of his people,” and enjoining the Orders to repair the next day each to its separate Chamber. The King and his train then retired, and the bulk of the nobles and some of the clergy withdrew; but the rest of the deputies remained motionless in their seats. The Grand Master of the Ceremonies thereupon came forward and said, “ Gentlemen, you know the intentions of the King.” Mirabeau (whose words have been variously reported) answered for the Assembly and said, “ If you have been charged to make us quit this place, you must ask for orders to use force, for we will not stir from our places save at the point of the bayonet.” As de Breze declined to take an answer from a private deputy, Bailly, the President, replied that he had no power to break up the Assembly until it had deliberated upon the royal session just over.

Thus ended the royal session of June 23, memorable as the most striking display of the King’s weakness. At the advice both of Necker and of Necker’s enemies, Louis had at length abandoned his merely passive part and had come forward to declare both the Constitution and the business of the States General. So far he had only done what it might have been prudent to do earlier. But he acted too late and under the influence of those whom the Assembly could not fail to distrust. More­over the reservations which accompanied the King’s promises were serious. His concessions did not expressly include periodic States General, or the recognition of legislative power in the States General, or the responsibility of ministers. Louis took his stand upon his ancient and undoubted prerogative; the National Assembly took theirs upon the abstract sovereignty of the people. Where principles were so sharply opposed, extraordinary wisdom and temper would have been required to effect a compromise. Moreover the King did not enact any reform, he merely declared his intentions; and experience had shown that, if the intentions of Louis were generally good, they were often ineffective. A year earlier his declaration would have been applauded; it now provoked murmurs; and the Assembly held on its course as if he had not spoken.

We may wonder more that Louis should have suffered his wishes so solemnly announced to be treated with contempt. Some of his advisers may have thought of using force; but, when de Breze informed the King of the contumacy of the deputies, he replied that, if the gentlemen of the Third Estate did not choose to quit the hall, there was nothing to do but to leave them there. No further interference was attempted. The roll of the Assembly was called, and every

member of the Third Estate answered to his name. The clergymen whose powers had been verified claimed to sit and vote; and those who had not yet undergone that formality asked that their names might be entered on the journals as present. The debate on the royal session then began; and, after one or two members had spoken, Sieyes rose and said in his dry, incisive manner, “ Gentlemen, you are to-day that which you were yesterday.” The applause was loud and general; and the resolution of Camus that the Assembly persisted in its former decrees was adopted without a division. Mirabeau then proposed that the Assembly should declare the persons of its members inviolable. This motion was carried by 493 voices to 34, and the House adjourned to the following day.

Meantime the commotion was great in Paris and Versailles. In Versailles crowds continued to grow and to display a menacing temper. On a report that Necker had resigned, his house was beset with anxious citizens, begging that he would resume office. In Paris men of business were panic-struck, and rushed to the Caisse (TEscompte to get gold for their paper. They even prepared a deputation to remonstrate with the King. The clubs in the Palais-Royal held more violent language than ever, and the seditious talked of a march on Versailles. Necker had in fact resigned after the royal session; but the King and Queen were forced to entreat that he would come back, and he consented. He returned home from the palace through a rejoicing multitude. According to his own account, generosity forbade him to ask for the dismissal of his opponents; but, according to Barentin, he asked for it in vain. The King’s humiliation confirmed his dislike of Necker, and he readily accepted Necker’s promise to retire at the first intimation and in such a way as to attract the least notice possible. Within three weeks Necker learnt how precarious was his tenure.

Now that the impotence of the Crown was beyond dispute, events marched rapidly towards the total union of the Three Estates. On June 24 the Comte de Clermont-Tonnerre had moved the nobles, though in vain, that they should join the commons. The next day he and his supporters to the number of forty-seven, with the Duke of Orleans at their head, passed over to the National Assembly. Presently other noblemen followed their example. The clergy continued to come in. The Archbishop of Paris, the most obstinate opponent of union, was set upon by a band of ruffians when leaving the chamber of the clergy, and would perhaps have been murdered had he not consented to do likewise. Although he had promised under duress, he felt bound by his word and went. The irresolute King accepted defeat, and at Necker’s prompting wrote to the Cardinal de La Rochefoucauld, President of the clergy, and the Due de Luxembourg, President of the nobles, inviting both Orders to join the National Assembly. As the Cardinal and the Duke hesitated, Louis summoned them to his presence and by personal solicitation

extorted their consent. The clergy now professed themselves willing to obey the King if the nobles would do the like. But among the nobles many, with Cazales and d’Espremenil at their head, remained obdurate until the King had invoked the help of his brother, the Comte d’Artois, the chief of the high aristocratic party. A letter from the Count, alleging that the King’s life was in danger, silenced opposition; and all the remaining nobles and clergymen took their seats in the Assembly. Yet a few days later the Cardinal de La Rochefoucauld made a de­claration reserving the right of the clergy in future sessions to sit and vote separately. So late as July 3 eighty-nine nobles signed a declaration in favour of upholding the distinction between the Orders. Other symptoms, trivial in themselves, showed that many of the nobles and the clergy regretted the surrender which they had made at the instance of the sovereign, and would take the first opportunity of recovering their independence.

By July 2 the powers of all the deputies had been duly verified and the National Assembly was at length complete. On the following day Talleyrand, Bishop of Autun, made a motion that all imperative instructions given by the electors to their representatives should be cancelled; and, after a long debate, the substance of his motion was adopted. The royal declaration had set a precedent for this vote which effaced yet another peculiarity of the old States General and vested in the National Assembly the plenitude of sovereign power. The Assembly was at length free to begin “ the regeneration of Prance.” On July 6 it appointed the first Committee of the Constitution. But unforeseen events occasioned a brief crisis, and gave the Revolution a more violent character. Louis must have regarded the course of the Assembly with as much indignation as was possible to his sluggish nature. The Assembly had scornfully ignored what he must have deemed his lawful and justifiable intervention; and it had forced upon him the indignity of having to exact that very union of the Orders which be disapproved. Yet left to himself Louis might have accepted this rebuff and continued to drift on the stream of chance. But those who had prompted his action and saw more clearly every day the scope of the Revolution that was impending, were not inclined to yield so easily. They determined to get rid of Necker and of the Ministers who followed him, and probably to put an end to the National Assembly. As the dismissal of Necker might lead to an insurrection, a large force of troops, especially of the foreign regiments in French pay, was directed upon Paris and Versailles under the command of Marshal de Broglie, a trusty veteran of the Seven Years’ War. The recent outbreaks of disorder in and near the capital afforded a pretext for this concentration, but the Assembly at once divined its real purpose. The deputies of the Third Estate, who were in constant correspondence with their electors, spread the alarm and set on foot an agitation throughout the kingdom.

160  “Spontaneous anarchy[i789

But the centre of resistance was the capital; and from this time forward Paris becomes the focus of the Revolution.

For many months past the fabric of French society had been falling into ruin. The bold and successful resistance of the Parlements to Brienne had made manifest the irresolution and weakness of the sovereign and his ministers. The bad harvest of 1788 and the severe winter which followed had brought many thousands to the verge of starvation and filled the land with vagabonds and beggars. The elections for the States General had made political discussion universal, had given even the most ignorant a vivid notion of the wrongs which they endured, and had possessed the minds of all who were wretched with the thought of change and the hope of a great deliverance. Although the electoral assemblies were as a rule orderly and decorous, the period of the elections had been marked by many acts of riot and outrage. Taine has reckoned .pwards of three hundred outbreaks of disorder between March and July of 1789. Most of these might be described as bread or com riots. The populace rose to prevent grain being carried out of their district, or to seize the com stored in magazines or religious Houses, or to force the bakers to sell at less than the market price, or to seize the bread without paying any price at all. All such acts of violence tended to make corn scarcer and bread dearer, and so to multiply themselves. Sometimes the rioters wreaked their grudge on the feudal system by sacking country-houses or burning, manorial records. Sometimes they ventured on more direct rebellion, destroying the town barriers and refusing to pay the octroi or even the King’s taxes. Almost all these acts of lawlessness went unpunished. For the police, both in town and country, was weak; the soldiers were becoming disaffected, and the officers, as well as the magistrates and Intendants, swayed either by fear or by philanthropic sentiment, were most unwilling to take severe measures. Their forbearance was construed as weakness, and the law continued to be broken as before. The condition of France in the summer of 1789 is best described by Taine’s phrase of “spontaneous anarchy.”

No less alarming was the state of Paris. Then, even more than now, Paris was the centre of French political life, the source of French political ideas. The victory of the Parlements over the Crown had nowhere been more complete than in Paris. Idle and starving people had been drawn to the capital in the hope of sharing in its profuse charity. The relief works set on foot by the municipal authority had attracted thousands who did nothing useful, yet could not be turned away without extreme danger of an insurrection. Among the upper class the fund-holders, as we have seen, despairing of the solvency of the government, put all their hope in a political revolution. Men of all conditions were in such a ferment as had never been known before. For to that age of inex­perience political life had the wonder and the charm of a newly

discovered continent. There everything seemed possible to eager and restless minds. Every enthusiast might hope that the public would take his prescription for freedom and happiness. Every adventurer might feel assured that a boundless career awaited his ability and daring. Political discussion was therefore general and unceasing. As yet newspapers were only beginning to appear, and Camille Desmoulins, the cleverest journalist of the Revolution, was still in quest of a pub­lisher. But pamphlets still poured from the press, and speakers could everywhere find a forum. In many of the districts formed for the elections of the Third Estate the citizens had continued to meet and to discuss the questions of the hour. Out of one of these assemblies grew the famous dub of the Cordeliers, where Danton made his first essays as a public speaker and gained his first adherents. Beside the district assemblies there sprang up a multitude of clubs, mostly small and shortlived, but in their day full of zealous disputants. For the labour­ing classes there were the popular societies which met in the tavern or in the open street. In such obscure and irresponsible gatherings doctrines were often upheld and methods were often suggested which no deputy would have ventured to name at Versailles. Republicans on principle like Desmoulins were still few; but many were prepared for any violence against the enemies of the Third Estate.

The Duke of Orleans had already conceived the project of supplant­ing Louis on the throne, and made his own palace the asylum of all the most reckless among the politicians who then swarmed in Paris. There the most seditious clubs held their meetings; there the most inflammatory speeches were delivered; and as all the attractions of sauntering, gambling, and prostitution were added, the orators never wanted an audience, and the Palais-Royal was crowded day and night. That the Duke and his friends did more than countenance the revo­lutionary party, that they spent pains and money in making serviceable adherents and recruiting among the destitute and criminal class seems certain, although the details can never be known. So early as the time of the elections the effect of all these disorganising agencies was seen in the formidable riots associated with the name of Reveillon. Reveillon was a manufacturer of wall-papers, a successful and, so far as is known, an estimable man; but he was alleged to have said (such reports were incessant in the revolutionary period and usually murderous) that a workman could live on fifteen sous a day. Accordingly, on April 27 and again on the 28th, his house was attacked and pillaged by a furious mob, at one time numbering thousands; and the sack lasted till all the available troops had been called out and many of the rioters had been killed or wounded. The authors of the riot were never traced, but they probably had some aim beyond that of injuring a private individual.

While disorder in Paris was coming to a head, the force available' for keeping the peace was insignificant. The ordinary police, the watch

mounted or on foot, numbered little over one thousand men. It could be reinforced by two regiments of the line, the Gardes Suisses and the Gardes Frarifaises, which had permanent quarters in the capital. The Swiss regiment might be trusted to obey orders, but the French regiment was not to be counted upon. Many of the men had married Parisian women and were bound by family ties to the lower class of townspeople. The Duke of Orleans and the partisans of violent revolution seem to have employed every means of seduction upon the regiment. The new colonel, the Due de Chatelet, was a martinet, harsh and doubly un­popular with soldiers who had been living under a relaxed discipline. After many acts of insubordination, there was discovered in the regiment a secret society whose members had bound themselves to obey no orders directed against the National Assembly. Several of the culprits were put under arrest and sent to the prison known as the Abbaye. On June 30 the mob rose and released the prisoners, and some dragoons and hussars who had been ordered out to suppress the riot fraternised with the mob. Matters could not rest here; and the revolutionary clubs, alarmed at their own boldness, sent a deputation to beg that the Assembly would intercede. The Assembly having solicited the King to show clemency and soothed the populace, the prisoners of their own free will returned to the Abbaye, whence they were presently released by royal order. Such an incident showed that the troops could not be trusted, and that the power of the Crown in Paris was merely nominal.

The municipal authority was equally infirm. In Paris, before the Revolution, the municipal officers were named by the Crown, and the citizens had no real voice in the administration. An elective munici­pality was generally desired, and had been demanded in the cahiers of Paris. Its germ already existed. The electors of the Third Estate in Paris had resolved that they would keep together after the elections in order to correspond with their deputies and to watch over the interests of the city; but for a time they had so far deferred to the government as not to hold any meeting. At length, alarmed by the royal declaration "of June 23, they asked for the use of a room in the Hotel de Ville; and, failing to get it, they met in a hall in the Rue Dauphine. After some heated speech and the suggestion of a civic guard, the electors voted an address to the National Assembly, which was carried to Versailles and received with gratitude. Although the electors in the eye of the law were mere private men, the municipal officers, conscious of their own weakness and unpopularity, and expecting soon to be superseded, were glad to call in such powerful auxiliaries. On the 27th, accordingly, they granted the electors the use of a room in the Hotel de Ville. On July 1, after the rescue of the soldiers from the Abbaye, the electors published an address to the townspeople, urging them to respect the law. They next took into consideration the estab­lishment of a civic guard. Their motive at this time seems to have been,

not so much jealousy with regard to the King’s intentions, as a wish to ensure the safety of Paris, then lying at the mercy of the lowest populace and of the disaffected soldiers. On July 11 the formation of such a guard was resolved upon.

Meantime the Marshal de Broglie had been making ostentatious preparations *at Versailles. He had, writes Besenval, turned the palace into a headquarters and the gardens into a camp. He had put a regiment into the orangery, and he openly avowed his fears for the safety of the King and the Royal family. The Assembly took alarm, and on the motion of Mirabeau voted an address to the King asking that the troops might be withdrawn. Louis replied on the 10th that the disorders of Paris and Versailles had made it necessary to assemble the troops, but that nothing was designed against the freedom of the Assembly. If the deputies were still uneasy, he was willing to remove the session to Noyon or Soissons, and to take up his abode at Compiegne, where he could readily communicate with them. The Assembly refrained from any discussion of the royal letter, thus tacitly persevering in its request for the departure of the troops. But on July 11 the King sent Necker a note dismissing him from his office and enjoining him to quit the kingdom. Those of his colleagues who had generally acted with Necker, Montmorin, the Secretary for Foreign Affairs, Puysegur, Secretary for War, La Luzerne, Secretary for the Navy, and Saint-Priest, Minister of the King’s Household, were dismissed at the same time. The Baron de Breteuil, well known as one of the Queen’s friends, succeeded Necker as chief minister, Marshal de Broglie took the place of Puysegur, and Foulon and Laporte replaced Saint-Priest and La Luzerne respectively. The party hostile to the National Assembly had thus prevailed with the King; but their success was momentary and their overthrow decisive.

On July 12 the dismissal of Necker became known in Paris, and Camille Desmoulins at the Palais-Royal gave the signal for insurrection. The rioters, reinforced by a crowd of deserters from the Gardes Franfaises, had one or two trivial and almost bloodless encounters with the troops. Although many thousands of soldiers were at this time assembled round Paris and although the Champ de Mars and the Champs Illlysees were held in force, nothing serious was done to check the rising. A great number of the privates had been debauched by the democratic party, and the chiefs behaved with the same irresolute forbearance which had been so often displayed elsewhere. Besenval, who commanded in Paris, being left without orders and shunning responsibility, remained motion­less until the mob had made such apparent way in seducing his men that he resolved to evacuate the city altogether. Meantime the in­surgents beset the Hotel de Ville, where the electors were sitting, and clamoured for their authorisation to repel by force the danger which hung over Paris. The electors would not go to that length, but could not hinder the mob from seizing all the arms in the Hotel de Ville.

Order was now at an end in Paris. The lawless multitude, which had been so long gathering there, plundered the gun-shops, broke open the prisons, burnt the octroi barriers, assailed the houses of unpopular persons, and attacked and robbed the passers in the streets. The electors could do nothing save decree the convocation of the districts. On July IS they met and, as the imminent peril overbore all scruples of form, were joined by de Flesselles, Provost of the Merchants, and the other officers of the old municipal body. A standing committee was chosen and began to organise a civic guard of sixty battalions, one for each district. But it was impossible to master the rioters, who were hourly joined by crowds of deserters from the regular troops. All through that day Paris had the aspect of a town taken by storm. All com­munication with Versailles was stopped, all letters were opened, and the electors working at the Hotel de Ville were in constant peril from the excited crowd which filled every part of the building. By evening the new civic guard were under arms, patrols were sent out, the streets were lighted, and a measure of safety was afforded to peaceable citizens. But the insurrection was not at an end. On the morning of July 14 one party attacked the Hotel des Invalides, whence they carried off a large quantity of arms and ammunition. Another party with the same object attacked the Bastille.

The Bastille, once a fortress but for many years no more than a State prison, was ill qualified to stand a siege. Its high and massive walls were indeed impregnable to such artillery as the assailants had seized. But the garrison was small, amounting to eighty-two invalides and' thirty-two Swiss. The cannon were of little use except for firing salvos, and there were provisions for two days only. De Launay, the Governor, behaved much like other officers at the same time. He made a hesitating defence; he received with courtesy the deputations which came to demand a surrender; and at length, finding that his men had no stomach to fight, he surrendered on promise of safety for himself and for them. The deserters from the Gardes Frangaises, who had done most of the fighting that there was to do, tried hard to bring the prisoners along in safety, but before they could reach the Hotel de Ville de Launay and several others were murdered in the most brutal fashion.

With the fall of the Bastille the insurrection may be said to have ended, as there was no longer any position in Paris held by the King’s troops. But all through the day the tumult and confusion at the Hotel de Ville were indescribable; and in the evening the murder of Flesselles gave a fresh proof of the lawlessness which reigned without. It was only by degrees, as the civic guard took a more regular shape and the worst ruffians who infested Paris were disarmed, that some degree of order was restored.

At Versailles the news of the dismissal of Necker and the outbreak

in Paris had caused the Assembly to vote an address to the King, asking for the withdrawal of the troops and the formation of a civic guard. As the King returned a negative answer, the Assembly passed a decree repeating its demands, expressing its regret at the dismissal of Necker, and declaring the actual ministers responsible for any attack on the rights of the nation. When informed of this decree, the King still replied evasively. But, realising at length that the army could not be trusted and that the insurgents were masters of the capital, he came in person to the Assembly on the morning of July 15, and announced that the troops would be withdrawn. The dismissal of Breteuil and his colleagues and the return of Necker and his friends were necessary and immediate consequences of the revolution in Paris. Those who had been most actively hostile to Necker and the National Assembly felt that they were no longer safe. The Comte d’Artois, the Prince de Conde, the Prince de Conti, the Due de Bourbon, Marshal de Broglie, and other councillors and courtiers of the same party went into exile. They were the first of the Emigres. A quarter of a century was to pass before the few survivors could retrace their steps. Whatever the danger to which they were exposed, Louis might justly complain of those kinsmen who, after importuning him to ill-advised action, set the example of flight, and whose restless intrigues contributed not a little to his final ruin.

The electors of Paris, in their new character of municipal authority, had deputed some of their body to inform the Assembly of the late events and to ask for its protection. In return, the Assembly sent a deputation consisting of all the members for Paris and twenty-four others. They were greeted with effusion at the Hotel de Ville, where by a sudden impulse Bailly was chosen Mayor of Paris and the Marquis de Lafayette Commandant of the National Guard. At the Archbishop’s suggestion a Te Dernn was sung in the cathedral. Bailly and his brethren then returned to Versailles to give an account of their mission. As the new municipality desired a visit from the King, Louis, after making his will and communicating, undertook a journey which was not without danger. The new Mayor presented the keys of the city, and, in words not meant to wound, referred to Henry IV, who had reconquered his people, whereas now the people had reconquered its King. But it will not seem strange that, when Louis had reached the Hotel de Ville, embarrassment and humiliation should have disabled him from making the required harangue, which Bailly had to supply as best he could. Louis confirmed the nomination of Bailly as Mayor and Lafayette as Commandant, put the newly-devised tricolour cockade in his hat and set out on his return to Versailles through crowds shouting “ Long live the King.”

The Marquis de Lafayette was now in his thirtieth year. While yet a youth he had been led by a vague love of liberty and a longing for

166                           Lafayette and the National Guard.           [i789

adventure to join the Americans in their revolt against Great Britain, and the Americans had repaid him with the rank of Major-General. His courage and popular manners gained their hearts. Even Washington became his close friend. After the surrender of Yorktown Lafayette returned to enjoy the applause of the Court and capital and took a foremost place among the liberal nobility. He sat in the Assembly of the Notables, where he demanded the summoning of the States General. Through his friend Duport he concerned himself in the resistance of the Parlements to the ministers. When elected to the States General by the nobles of Auvergne, he had shown his good-will to the Third Estate; and after the union of the Orders he was one of the most highly con­sidered men in the House. He had been the first to offer a draft Declaration of Rights. The office of Vice-President had been made for him to fill. As an officer of high rank and of some reputation, who was also zealous in the cause of freedom, he was marked out for the command of the new civic guard of Paris. He thus became a great power in the State, but he proved unequal to his task. Although honourable and well-meaning, he was vain and self-conscious; he wished to reconcile liberty with order, but wished still more to hold the balance of parties; andyet,;with all his political ambition, he had no definite policy. He could not work in harmony with other men; he let precious occasions pass unused, and he wasted even that popularity which he loved so dearly and which might have been so serviceable. Within two years he had become impotent, and within three years he was an exile.

As Commandant, Lafayette had to organise the new civic guard, which took on his motion the name of National Guard. This force was to serve two purposes. It was to maintain order in Paris, the police and regular troops being no longer available. It was also to ensure the party of reform against any risk of military invasion for the future. The electors had at first fixed its strength at two hundred men from every district, or twelve thousand in all. If properly paid and disciplined such a force might have been able to keep the peace in Paris. But a much larger force might seem necessary to resist a counter-revolution. Accordingly the strength of a battalion was now fixed at 800 men, giving a total of 48,000. It has been said that Lafayette wished to recruit the National Guard from the middle class only and therefore made all the men enlisted provide themselves with a costly uniform. Since however a force of 48,000 would be fully one-third of all the men in Paris able to bear arms, it must have been very largely composed of men below the middle rank in life. To each battalion there was attached a more select company of chasseurs and another of grenadiers. A regiment of volunteer cavalry was formed, each trooper finding his own horse and arms. The Gardes Francoises were incorporated with the National Guard as a paid battalion. The officers of the lower grades were elected by the privates, but the staff officers were named by Lafayette. Lafayette used every art of

popularity to get and keep control over his men; and well he might, for in an unpaid volunteer army discipline was scarcely known, and the National Guard was not really under the command of any authority whether military or civil.

Bailly remained in a most difficult position. The King had confirmed him in the office of Mayor; but he had no regular council to help him, for the assembly of electors was in truth an unauthorised body of private men. Their self-imposed duty was most laborious, dangerous and thank­less. At the end of July they made way for a new body elected two by each district and therefore 120 in all; a number afterwards raised to 300. The new municipality met with as much resistance as the old assembly of electors. In Paris, as Bailly lamented, all wished to command, none were willing to obey. Those districts especially in which the democrats were powerful paid no heed to the orders or entreaties of the municipal council, but behaved as little republics; and, amid the dissolution of the State, there was no supreme authority, executive or judicial, to which the Mayor or his advisers could appeal.

In every great revolution some petty incident becomes symbolical, and thenceforward holds in the imagination of mankind a place altogether disproportionate. So it was with the fall of the Bastille. The Bastille was of slight strategic consequence; its capture was not a brilliant exploit, and was dishonoured by infamous cruelty. Only seven prisoners, most of them detained for good reason, were found within its walls. But to popular feeling both in France and abroad the Bastille was the embodiment of all that is most hateful in arbitrary power; and the fall of the Bastille seemed to announce a new age of freedom, justice, and humanity. Moreover the example of the Parisian insur­rection was followed throughout France. In all the cities and towns the old municipal authorities were overturned and new elective authorities took their place. All the cities and towns enrolled their National Guards. At the same time the administrative and judicial system of the Monarchy broke down altogether. With the disappearance of the Intendants and sub-delegates, police, public works, and the collection of revenue came well-nigh to an end. The old Courts of Justice, from the manor Court to the Parlement, ceased to sit. The dwindling of the revenue made it almost impossible to pay or feed the troops, and so gave the last shock to expiring discipline. Insubordination became so general that the officers could no longer keep their men together, much less control their conduct. And, now that all means of repression were gone, the peasants in most of the Provinces rose in savage revolt. The country houses were pillaged and burnt, and the seigneurs with their families were driven by thousands into the towns or across the frontiers, happy indeed if they could escape, for some were murdered with every refinement of cruelty. It is unnecessary to recount the details which Taine has collected with so much industry and described with so much

168                           State of Paris.—The journalists.                   [i789

power. The strange and terrible sight of a great civilised people returning to chaos might have taught the philosophers of that age what the dissolution of the social compact signifies. Against this anarchy the municipalities and the National Guards struggled, often with zeal and courage; but they were novices, and their task might have appalled the maturest wisdom.

The state of Paris under its new Mayor and Commandant is typical of this period of the Revolution. It was the first task of Bailly to ensure the daily bread of seven hundred thousand human beings, amid such disorder within and without that commerce was dried up and the markets were never sure of forty-eight hours’ supply. To maintain order was the chief business of Lafayette. This may not seem difficult for an experienced and popular general commanding thousands of troops, mostly drawn from classes interested in upholding the law. But soldiers seldom make an effective police, and of all soldiers volunteers are least suited to police duty. Many recruits, who had been attracted by a showy uniform and the roll of the drum, did not care to patrol disturbed quarters under volleys of stones and curses. Some of the National Guards sympathised with riot and outrage, and others did not abhor riot and outrage sufficiently. The deserters from the regular army, who came in great numbers, expected licence as the reward of patriotism, and the fashionable ideas of the hour made discipline impossible. There­fore, although Lafayette meant well and worked hard, he could not make Paris orderly or prevent murders like those of Foulon and Berthier. Nor could he expect any help from without. The National Assembly from time to time issued an idle proclamation, inviting the citizens to obey the law, or sent a deputation to implore mercy from murderers; but it had neither the will nor the means to employ the only arguments which criminals understand.

After the insurrection of July the press was free from all restraint and newspapers were multiplied in Paris. They were very small, it is true, for they gave very little information and were rather daily or weekly essays on political subjects than what we should term newspapers; yet some of them achieved a great sale and had a memorable influence. Every party had its own organs, but those which were most revolu­tionary sold best. Loustallot’s journal, The Revolutions of Paris, which first appeared July 17, 1789, is said to have reached a sale of 200,000 copies. From it Camille Desmoulins took the hint for the title of his own paper, The Revolutions of France and Brabant, which began in November. For wit and style, if not for reason and humanity, he held the first place among the journalists of that age. The still more notorious Friend of the People by Marat first came out on September 12. Marat was at this time forty-seven years old; he was a doctor, a man of culture, and claimed to have made discoveries. But he was diseased in body and mind and embittered by ill-success and unfriendly criticism. As such

men sometimes will, he took suspicion for wisdom, ferocity for public spirit, and hatred of a class for love of mankind. He has found apolo­gists ; but the Friend of the People will always be the most telling indictment against Marat. These and many other journals now forgotten inflamed the people of Paris and prepared the next and more violent ph ase of the Revolution. In the meantime they prompted continual resistance to the law and the municipal authority, and kindled disorder as fast as Bailly or Lafayette could put it out.

The National Assembly had no longer anything to fear from the King. The general anarchy disabled him from raising revenue, ad­ministering justice, or moving troops. So far from being able to assail others, he could not, as the events of October 5 and 6 showed, defend his own personal freedom. If a government could still be said to exist in France it was to be found in the Assembly and its Committees rather than in the sovereign and his Ministers. But the Assembly had van­quished the Crown only to pass under the yoke of the disorderly populace. Especially after its removal to Paris it was captive in fact although supreme in form. True wisdom would have disposed the Assembly to narrow the field of debate, to fix as soon as possible the principles of the new Constitution, and thus to shorten the painful period of suspense, during which France could have no rest within and no security abroad. The Assembly in its heat and inexperience took the opposite course. Before we touch upon its constructive labours, a brief notice of its procedure, its debates, and its party divisions seems necessary. For in all these respects it differed much from the parliaments with which we are best acquainted, and its peculiarities were of considerable moment in the history of the Revolution.

The maintenance of order in the National Assembly was for several reasons difficult. The Assembly, while it remained at Versailles, numbered about twelve hundred members—almost twice as many as the British House of Commons—men of a highly-strung race, whose education had in nowise hardened them to the rude shock of Parliamentary conflict; men without experience of public life, over-worked and over-excited. The Salle des Menus Plaisvrs afforded room for a crowd of spectators who had never been trained to silence and respect. Noise and inter­ruption were therefore incessant, and the speaker who would be heard had to strain his voice—an almost fatal hindrance to calm debate. After the migration to Paris in October, 1789, the Assembly met in a some­what smaller room, the manege, or riding-school, of the Tuileries. By that time, however, so many members had fled or ceased from attending that there was still space for five or six hundred of the public, who were as unruly as before. Hence the sittings of the Assembly usually resembled a disorderly public meeting, and seldom maintained the dignity of a senate.

The Third Estate, we have seen, delayed to organise itself until it

began the verification of powers. It was only on June 12 that it elected its first President. The President held office for a fortnight, and was assisted by six Secretaries, who were elected for a month. As yet there was no code of procedure. Mirabeau deposited on the bureau a printed copy of a digest of the rules of the House of Commons, which he had obtained from Romilly, and which might have been useful at least for suggestion, but the deputies would none of it. We are not English, they said, and we have no need of the English. Bailly tells us that he introduced three rules. A call of the House, hitherto incessant, was to be reserved for. special occasions. In eveiy case a member wishing to speak was to ask for leave. No member was to speak after the matter had once come to taking votes. It was only towards the end of July that the Assembly adopted its first body of rules, which occupies only eight octavo pages. Even so it contains some rules which were never observed, such as that forbidding all expressions of applause or dissent by the public. The Assembly, always afraid of the expiring power of the Crown, was too anxious to court the favour of the populace; and the sentimental politics of the time regarded every knot of idlers or ruffians as the French people and entitled to corresponding deference. A worse mischief than noise was the way in which the gallery politicians marked unpopular speakers for the vengeance of the Palais-Royal and the mob. At the close of the debate on the motion to assume the style of National Assembly, Malouet was assaulted by a stranger on the floor of the House; and several of those who voted with him received an intimation that their houses would be burnt down. “ For every impartial man,” he writes, “the Terror dates from July 14”; and, though he certainly was no dastard, he rarely went to the debates of the Assembly in Paris without his pistols. Throughout the French Revolution the party which claimed to be most democratic tried to silence discussion by fear, and showed the utmost contempt for freedom of conscience.

The deputies themselves often displayed the natural courtesy of Frenchmen, but had little self-command in debate. Disorder was frequent. “ More than once to-day,” Young wrote on June 15, 1789, “ there were a hundred members on their legs at a time, and Monsieur Bailly absolutely without power to keep order.” The majority was overbearing and the minority petulant. As time went on many of the deputies of the Right ceased from regular debate, laughed, and talked aloud, went out of the hall when the question was put, and affected to regard the proceedings as despicable. Had the Assembly taken occasional rest, irritation might have subsided; but, doubtless with good intentions, it worked too hard, sat long hours every day, even on Sunday, and allowed itself few and brief adjournments. Little economy of time was practised, and every irrelevant digression was welcome if it flattered the prevailing sentiment. A still graver nuisance were the deputations

from every part of the kingdom and from all ranks of the people upon every conceivable topic. At first encouraged as an expression of popular sympathy in the struggle against the Court, they were afterwards endured from the motives which led the majority to connive at the disorder in the galleries. They reached their crowning absurdity in the deputation of the human race led by Anacharsis Clootz, which appeared on June 19,

1790,       and was decreed the honours of the sitting.

For the more thorough discussion of legislative proposals the Assembly was divided into a number of bureaux, formed without election by taking from the alphabetical list of deputies certain numbers such as the 1st, the 31st, the 61st and so forth, and renewed every month in such a way that the old members should not come together again. These bureaux served some of the purposes of Committees in the British Parliament. Every legislative motion, after having been made and seconded, was discussed in the Assembly and either rejected or sent to the bureaux, where it was discussed again and sent back to the Assembly for the final debate and vote. Still more important were the Committees properly so called. There was a Committee for almost every department of State and for almost every branch of legislation, finance, army, navy, diplomacy, tithes, currency, feudal rights, etc. Several of these Committees encroached upon the ministerial departments; and the mutual ill-will of Ministers and Committees increased the disorders of the State. For the Committees often disdained to avail themselves of the special knowledge possessed by Ministers; and the Ministers and their subordinates, thwarted by those whom they regarded as intruders, often took refuge in sullen inaction. Even Necker after a time found his figures and arguments ignored by the Committee of Finance. The Committee of Reports, formed to receive and consider all petitions, letters, and addresses coming from all parts of France, became, says Ferrieres, a species of departmept for Home Affairs; and the Committee of Researches, formed to unravel all conspiracies against the nation, was accused of employing the methods of the cmcien regime against its friends. But it should be remembered that many of the Committees did legislative work of a high order.

The style of speaking current in the Assembly had also its effect on business. Under the old monarchy there had been no scope for political eloquence, but the orator might exert his powers either in the pulpit or at the bar or in academic harangues on various subjects. As the style of the clergyman or lawyer was professional and therefore in some degree unsuited to a popular assembly, it was the academic style which found most vogue in the debates. Each member who wished to speak chose a theme, framed a harangue, gave in his name, and when the time arrived went up into the tribune and spoke often with little or no regard to what others had said or to the actual stage of the discussion. Thus debating in our sense of the term was almost unknown. In the absence of party organisation, there was hardly any means of suppressing dunccs or bores,

and the loss of time was enormous. Even the patient reader, who does his best to place himself in the circumstances of that age, will be fatigued and disgusted with the perpetual strain of artificial emotion. In those days men worked hard to feel as much as possible, and wore e>rery feeling on their sleeve. Consequently, when they thought themselves most natural they were most rhetorical; and when they wished to be pathetic or sublime, they too often ended in fustian. Although it is allowable and indeed necessaiy for the orator to flatter his audience, the pitch of adulation in these harangues would move the laughter of a modem senate. The Assembly is reminded at every turn that it has outshone the wisdom of all former ages, and that the eyes of the world are fixed in admiration on its proceedings. But the worst fault of all is the terrible want of matter. Scarcely any of the speeches have the substance and variety which comes of a true interest in concrete things and a rich experience of life. We find instead the endless manipulation of “ principles,” for the most part half truths imperfectly understood. The excited crowd which filled the galleries and domineered over the speakers doubtless enjoyed this resonant verbiage, and patronised it in ^reference to what Aulard scornfully terms “familiarity of language, the aridity of statistics, and the dryness of arguments.”

Parties in the full sense of the word did not exist in the National Assembly. As parliamentary institutions were new in France, there could be no connexions with a long history and a slow growth, firmly united in support of definite principles, and powerful in their submission to acknowledged chiefs. In the National Assembly there were only such parties as arise in all large bodies of men with common business to discuss. Its members were brought together by general resemblance of opinion or even by agreement on a single issue; but these alliances were unstable and imperfect.

Originally the deepest division in the Assembly was between those who had desired and those who had resisted the union of the Three Estates. But when that conflict was over, a number of groups began to appear. The Extreme Right wished to preserve the ancient institutions entire with few, if any, improvements. It was a small party and did not contain .a single statesman. D’Espr^menil, once the champion of the Parlement against the King, and the Vicomte de Mirabeau, brother of the renowned orator, were its most notable leaders. Another group, sometimes described as the Right simply, wished for restraint upon the royal power, but preferred to effect this by reviving what they called the ancient Constitution of France. They would have given the States General the power of levying taxes and making laws, so long as the dis­tinction between the Orders was upheld; but they refused to base the royal prerogative on parliamentary sanction. They were in fact Legitimists, who desired an aristocratic Constitution. Cazales, the worthiest and sincerest leader of this group, stood high among the orators of the

Assembly. The Abbe Maury was its stoutest and most unwearied fighter; yet he never impressed any man with the conviction that he was in earnest. The so-called Right Centre, otherwise the Monarchiens or Impartiaux, was a still more numerous body, but it presented various shades of opinion. All, however, aimed at a constitutional monarchy approaching more or less to the English, as described by Montesquieu and Blackstone, with the monarch still wielding considerable power and without the cabinet system. The ablest man in this party was Mounier, who was discouraged by his experience at Versailles, and, after the removal of the King to Paris, went into exile. The firmest was Malouet, once Intendant of the Navy at Toulon, an official of the best type, thoughtful, enlightened, and humane. He fought his losing battle with a temper unusual anywhere, most unusual in the National Assembly. On the same side were Lally-Tollendal, Clermont-Tonnerre, and Bergasse. But, in spite of talent, character, and numbers, this party made little impression. It was weakened in the first instance by its own divisions. It was weakened still more by the perversity of the high Royalists, who did not see that union was necessary to save the Crown, and denounced statesmen like Malouet and Mounier as traitors and in­cendiaries. It was also weakened by the circumstance that its ideal was at variance with the current political philosophy. For, while the English polity, resting on a balance of opinions and interests, has a historic source and a practical aim, the philosophy of Rousseau’s Contrat Social, a tissue of abstractions above either practice or history, treats all modified forms of self-government as deceptions. Another weakness lay in the fact that this party cared most for political reform, while the bulk of the people cared most for social and economic changes. Finally, the Right Centre was exposed without defence to the methodic terrorism of the popular party. It has been seen at what risk Malouet discharged his duty. For voting in favour of the royal veto in legislation, Clermont-Tonnerre received a letter assuring him that his house would be burnt. When Clermont-Tonnerre and his friends opened the Club of the Friends of the Monarchical Constitution, the democrats raised a riot which terrified the municipality into closing it. Constantly defeated in the House and menaced in the street, the party dwindled away. Malouet reckoned, perhaps with some exaggeration, that in October, 1787, they could muster three hundred votes; a year and a half later they had shrunk to fifty. To the Right Centre the term Royalist is often applied in a way apt to mislead, as they were neither the only nor the most zealous Royalists.

On the other side of the House, the Left was roughly coincident with the Constitutionals, so-called because they made the Constitution of

1791.       This party was also known as the Ministerials, a name adopted when in May, 1790, they founded the Club of 1789, and as the Feuillants, a name given when they founded the Club of the Feuillcmts in July, 1790. Including the greater part of the Third Estate and for a long time the

greater part of the cures, it was from the first very strong; and, as its opponents more and more withdrew from public life or even fled the country, its strength increased till in the later months of the National Assembly it could do as it pleased. Its political principles may be gathered from the Constitution of 1791, and can best be dissected when we trace the growth of that Constitution. It was not consciously destructive, except in the case of privileges. It wished to preserve the Monarchy, which it rendered null; the connexion of Church with State, which it made offensive to Catholic consciences; and the rights of property, which it allowed to be swept away wholesale. At the same time its social prejudices, its temper, its political philosophy, were all far more revolutionary than it knew; and, while it imagined itself to be preparing a stable order of society, it made almost inevitable the state of anarchy which ensued. It was full of grudge against the First and Second Estates, unbounded in its optimism and contempt for experience, childlike in its acceptance of the Contrat Social as the textbook of political wisdom. As time went on, an internal change took place in this party. The group which at one time led in revolution, the group which com­prised Duport, Alexandre Lameth, and Bamave, and was termed by Mirabeau The Thirty Voices, came to see that they, had overshot the mark in trying to reduce the executive power, and tried, though vainly, to raise it up again. The Extreme Left, the virtually republican group, were at first very few. Among them were several men who afterwards filled a great place in the Revolution, Buzot, Dubois-Crance, Petion, and Robespierre. The son of a respectable lawyer of Arras, Robespierre had been left an orphan at a very early age, had been adopted by his maternal grandfather, and had found a patron in the Bishop of his native city. After passing with credit through school and college, he had been appointed criminal judge of the diocese of Arras, but had laid down his office rather than pass a sentence of death. He had then made a practice at the bar and had gained some small literary successes. In 1789 he was elected a deputy of the Third Estate of Artois. But his style struck the House as provincial and drew from the Right jeers and sarcasms which were not forgiven. By dint of practice Robespierre formed a style to which the Assembly would listen; and by dint of concentration he gained a certain influence, although he was never popular. That absolute as­surance of his own purity and of the truth of every proposition in the Contrat Social, which he kept to the end, was already unmistakable, and could not fail to impress hearers so full of sentiment and of dogma. But the Extreme Left as a party had very little power and had hardly any influence until after the flight to Varennes; nor did they find an oppor­tunity of giving effect to their principles until after the dissolution of the National Assembly.

In this brief enumeration of parties and of groups no place has been found for the greatest member of the National Assembly, Mirabeau.

Mirabeau was never the recognised leader of any party, although at times he swayed the whole House. For this there were several reasons. He was, we have seen, a practical man, not a man of system, where almost every man was systematic. For, while he wished to combine parliamentary freedom with a powerful executive, and in this approached Mounier and the Right Centre, he had no particular bias in favour of the English system; he took account of the national temperament, and he saw that what attracted the masses was not so much self-govern­ment as the destruction of privilege. Hence his political action was not controlled by party ties, it was prompted by circumstances; he aided or opposed different parties in turn, often overpowering resistance but never winning full confidence; and, though he set his mark on French history, he never fulfilled his ambition either as parliamentary chief or as administrator. We can never understand Mirabeau’s career in the National Assembly if we conceive of him as of English states­men, who by a regular course of promotion rise to the command of a disciplined party, and rule the State by the will of the people in the name of the sovereign. Mirabeau was only an adventurer of genius in a dissolving society.

CHAPTER VII.

THE CONSTITUTION OF 1791.

We have seen that almost all the cahiers expressed a desire for political self-government, and that the cahiers of the Third Estate at least demanded the making of a new Constitution. Many of the cahiers entered into some detail regarding its provisions. Many also required that its principles should be enacted before any supply was granted to the Crown. As soon, therefore, as the fusion of the Orders had been effected, the Assembly undertook to give France a Constitution. The task seemed light, for the spirit of the majority was confident to excess. “ Politics,” said Sieyfes, “ is a science which I believe myself to have completed.” “ The Constitution,” said Barere, “ is already made in the minds of all. There can be no laborious travail here; the Constitution is perhaps the work of a day, because it is the result of the enlighten­ment of an age.” Dumont has remarked that “ every member of the Assembly thought himself capable of everything; there have never been seen so many men imagining that they were all legislators, and that they had come there to redress all the wrongs of the past, to remedy all the errors of the human spirit, and to assure the happiness of future ages.” Nor will any person conversant with the memoirs and speeches of that time think that Dumont has exaggerated. In reality the business of framing a constitution proved very arduous, and the failure of the National Assembly was well-nigh complete.

The difficulty did not arise from the strength of the old institutions of France. Within the space of two years from the meeting of the States General these had been almost totally destroyed, in part by legislative action, still more by popular violence. The royal authority went to pieces after the insurrection of July in Paris and the Provinces, which ended the old administrative system and studded the land with new municipalities. The same insurrection showed that no trust could be put in the regular army, and raised up an innumerable militia devoted to the cause of the Revolution. The rising of the peasants in so many Provinces, the burning of manor-houses and manorial records, and the hue and cry raised after the seigneurs, ended the ancient agrarian system

and led directly to the memorable sitting of August 4, when the feudal tenures, and the privileges of Orders, cities, and Provinces, were virtually abolished. The feudal Courts of justice were thus swept away; and the royal Courts of justice, even the Parlements, were extinguished without effort in the following year. With equal ease all the ancient historic divisions of France were effaced and the land laid out in a new system of departments, districts, and cantons. The abolition of tithe and the confiscation of Church lands destroyed the wealth of the clergy; the suppression of the religious Orders reduced their numbers; and the “ civil constitution ” caused a schism among them and among the laity. Never has an ancient civilised people in so short a space of time made such wholesale havoc of its old institutions. The Assembly had little need to use force or skill in clearing the ground, for its adversaries were weak, timid, and ill-judging, and the insurgent masses constantly forestalled its decrees. Society seemed to dissolve itself, the better to receive an entirely new mould from the legislature.

The obstacles to sound legislation were, however, most formidable. Even the wisest and firmest statesmen might despair of reducing to order a people which had so utterly lost all respect for law and was rent by such savage hatreds. The inexperience and presumption of the majority' in the Assembly were still worse evils. Their political philosophy was little more than unreflecting reaction against the past. Because France had been oppressed by absolute monarchy, they denied to the executive that strength without which no citizen can be safe. Because the French people had been almost without means of expressing its wants, they multiplied elective assemblies until the orderly despatch of business hecame impossible. Knowing almost nothing about public affairs, they did not suspect with what reserve the lawgiver should apply the maxims of speculative writers; and when they found in books a formula which flattered their passions they took it for absolute truth and framed their measures accordingly. Thus, although they cared little for Montesquieu, who was conservative in his temper and inductive in his method, they were fascinated by his doctrine that the separation of the legislative, executive, and judicial powers one from another is the primary condition of political liberty. It is true that no general maxim can restrain the love of power, and that in practice the Assembly was always encroaching upon the executive sphere, which in words it left to the King. But in the Constitution of 1791 the principle of the separation of powers was applied with the most uncritical stringency. The Assembly seems to have combined it with the more extravagant assertion of Mably, that the executive power always has been and always will be the enemy of the legislative. Still stronger and more mischievous was the influence which Rousseau exerted over a legislature, like himself dogmatic and sentimental. In his other writings Rousseau sometimes showed a sense of the complexity of real politics, but in the Contrat Social, the

Bible of the Constituent Assembly, he set forth an absolutely rigid and impracticable ideal. He emboldened the majority to scorn experi­ence, to treat men as though they were all equivalent quantities, to think that a great society can be moulded and remoulded at the legislator’s will. The Constitution of 1791 was not, and could not be, conformable to Rousseau’s maxims; but it was too much imbued with his spirit to be useful or permanent.

A Committee was named on July 6, 1789, to consider the procedure advisable in framing the Constitution. The Constitution was, after a final revision, enacted on September 3, 1791. More than two years, therefore, were spent in the work; and debates on the Constitution were interspersed with debates on the many other topics discussed in the National Assembly. The new Constitution of France must be sought not only in the document which bears that name, but in a number of statutes which changed the distribution of political power. . To trace the history of each in detail would require several volumes. It is enough here to note the conflict of opinions on a few cardinal points, and to sketch the outline of the new Constitution. We can thus judge the spirit and character of the whole, and measure its effect upon the history of France.

Mounier was reporter of the preliminary Committee. Following the suggestion of certain cahiers, and the wish of some of his colleagues, rather than his own judgment, he proposed to begin with a declaration of the rights of man. The Assembly approved, and the matter was soon taken out of his hands, for a crowd of speculative politicians offered their projects. On July 14 the Assembly chose the first Committee to draft the Constitution. It consisted of Mounier, Talleyrand, Sieyes, Cler- mont-Tonnerre, Lally-Tollendal, Le Chapelier, Bergasse, and Champion de Cice, Archbishop of Bordeaux, who ceased to be a member when called to the Royal Council. On this Committee the admirers of English institutions were strong, and Mounier, still at the height of fame, was the master spirit. He also drew up a Declaration of the Rights of Man, to be published only as the preface to the new Constitution. On August 1 the Assembly began to discuss these drafts, over which it wearied itself for many days, while France was without a government and French society was in dissolution. In vain Mirabeau, who had acted as reporter of a special committee chosen to examine all the draft declarations, advised that they should adjourn the subject of the Declaration until the Constitution had been finished. It was not until August 27 that the Assembly accepted a form of Declaration differing more or less from all the original drafts. It contained some useful maxims of legislation, mixed with vague and unproved propositions, which could be of little use save as pretexts for disorder. No doubt the Assembly wished to gain fresh impetus from the nation by a solemn publication of the principles on which it hoped to remodel France.

But a still more powerful motive was the childlike belief in every kind of effusion—oaths, addresses, orations, and declarations—which was almost universal in 1789. During the next ten years the plainest rights of man were so often and so grossly outraged that the public came to feel very differently.

The proceedings on the night of August 4 were of more moment for French institutions than anything yet effected by the Committee. A report on the disorder in the Provinces had been presented on the previous day; and the Assembly was considering a declaration, which might appease the multitude, when two noblemen, the Vicomte dej| Noailles and the Due d’Aiguillon, proposed that the Assembly should solemnly proclaim the equality of taxation for all; the suppression of some of the “ feudal ” burdens, and the right to redeem the rest at so many years’ purchase. Other nobles rose to support this proposal, which called forth a series of motions all tending to the relief of the people. The Vicomte de Beauhamais demanded that criminal punishments should henceforward be the same for all offenders* and that all citizens should be admitted alike to the whole range of the public service. The Bishop of Chartres moved the abolition of the game laws. The Due de La Rochefoucauld urged the enfranchisement of all the serfs remaining in the kingdom. Thibault, a cure, asked the Assembly to approve the suppression of the camel. The Archbishop of Aix proposed the abolition of the gabelle and the aides. The Due de Chatelet demanded that tithes in kind should be commuted; and the Bishop of Uzes recognised the right of the nation to dispose of the possesions of the Church. Other demands and propositions poured in. In all quarters of the House deputies rose to renounce privileges on behalf of the Provinces or cities which they represented. The Assembly, now at the highest pitch of enthusiasm, embodied a number of these motions in decrees. Dupont of Nemours, the Economist, was almost the only person to hint a doubt as to such haste in making laws about matters so various and so weighty. Lally-Tollendal passed up to the President a note: “ Nobody any longer has any self-control; break up the sitting.” It did not close, however, till the Archbishop of Paris had proposed a Te Deum of thanksgiving, till the Due de Liancourt had moved that a medal be struck to commemorate the Fourth of August, till Lally-Tollendal himself had moved to proclaim Louis XVI the “Restorer of French liberty,” and until the Assembly had decreed all these motions.

On this memorable night many of. the nobles and clergy displayed the best and most generous impulses of the French character. When we think of the doom for which these patriots were too often reserved, we cannot refuse our deepest compassion as well as our respect. Yet such is not the way to legislate. Nothing was gained for public order by announcing all at once the abolition of so many laws and so many forms of property. Even as the declaration that a]l the existing taxes

were illegal had far more effect an the taxpayer than the injunction to pay them while the Assembly was sitting* so the declaration that feudalism was abolished had far more effect on the peasant than the reminder that certain territorial claims were valid and must continue to be satisfied until the Assembly had provided for their redemption. The actual consequence was that- the seigneurs lost everything, and that thousands were reduced to beggary. If the Assembly wished to extinguish manorial rights in an equitable manner, it should hare fixed the terms of redemption, arranged fjhe procedure, and guaranteed the necessary funds, before proclaiming that these rights no longer existed. When it came to deal with the details, it was fettered by the language of its own decrees. Dumont was justified in observing of the Fourth of August that “ never had such an immense work been despatched in a few hours. What would have required’ a year of pains and meditation was proposed, discussed, voted, determined by acclamation.” Mirabeau had not been present, but, hasty'as was his own temperament: and averse though he was to privilege* he saw the error. “Just like our Frenchmen,” he remarked: “ they are an entire month wrangling over syllables, and in a night they overturn the whole of the ancient order of the kingdom.”

The sitting of August 4> therefore, like the insurrections which led to its decrees, was purely destructive in its results. We may date from that night the disappearance of French feudalism'. The nobles lost in their seigniorial Courts the last remnant of public functions spared by ages of royal encroachment; and the extinction of their manorial revenue took from them a very great part of their riches. At the same time the way was opened to a still more formidable invasion of the property of the Church. All these economic and social changes prepared the way for a simple and highly democratic Constitution; and to the labours of the constitutional Committee we must here return.

On August 28, as soon as the debate on the Declaration of Rights had closed, Mounier reported to the Assembly the order of discussion recommended by the Committee, and presented the draft articles on the first topic, the Crown and its powers. Three days later Lally-Tollendal read the report of the same Committee upon the organisation of the legislature. It was to consist of three parts: the King, a Senate, and a Representative Chamber; The Committee, wavering between royal nomination and various elective methods, had left the mode of choosing the senators undetermined. It proposed that the King should have in legislation an absolute veto, although no initiative. Thus the creation of a Senate and the royal veto became the first subjects of cousti tutional discussion in the National Assembly.

A Senate, or Second Chamber, was for different reasons unacceptable to both sides of the Assembly. That the Left should dislike it was a direct inference from their political theory. Rousseau’s Contrat Social, which regards the assembled people as alone sovereign and denounces

even the representative system as a fraud, implicitly condemns any check on, or delay of, popular resolutions. The Left were haunted with a fear of royal and aristocratic reaction, which seems hardly intelligible now that we can measure the incapacity of the King, the weakness of the privileged orders, and the revolutionary ardour of the masses. They deemed that a Senate even of the American type might hinder the fulfilment of their principles; and a House of Lords like the EnglLh they of course rejected.

But the Right were also hostile, or at least indifferent, to the estab­lishment of a Second Chamber. The fanatics were against it, lest it should steady and save the Revolution. “If you were to set up two Chambers,” said Maury, “your Constitution might last.” These men, despairing of any good save from the excess of ill, wished things to come to the worst in order that they might come to reaction after. Many more were influenced by jealousy. A Second Chamber, if it were to have a conservative force, would be largely if not entirely composed of great nobles and prelates. But the French noblesse, although it might look down upon the Third Estate, had a keen feeling of Equality within its own circle. Holding that one gentleman is as good'as .another, the lesser nobles highly resented the superiority affected by the great, and thought it intolerable that the duke or marquis should gam all the power which a seat in a Second Chamber implies, while the squire was to descend to the level of a common citizen. The majority, which had come into the Assembly against its will, disliked the minority which had come of its own accord; and since these liberals, full of admiration for England, were the warmest upholders of a Second Chamber, the conservative nobles, always destitute of political insight, gratified their spleen by helping to throw out the proposal. In like manner the inferior clergy, hating their chiefs and sympathising with the popular party, had no mind to create a Second Chamber, which would exalt the Bishop still further above the cnvrL As for the large number of deputies who had no very strong opinion, they were cowed by the threats of violence which resounded in all the popular clubs and news­papers. The result was seen in the final division. On September 10, 849 deputies voted for a single Chamber; 89 only for two Chambers, and 122 declared themselves “insufficiently informed.” This was the first crushing defeat sustained by the admirers of the English Con­stitution.

It was speedily followed by another. For some time past the questions, Shall the King have an absolute veto ? or a limited, a suspen­sive veto? or no veto whatever? had been under debate. Here again the majority of the Left were adverse to the recommendation of the Committee. If the principle of the separation of powers were rigidly applied, the King, as wielding the executive, must be refused the smallest measure of legislative power. On the principles of the C&nttat Social,

the royal veto was equally to be rejected, as an encroachment on the soyereignty of the people; in Sieyes’ phrase, a lettre de cachet directed againgt the general wilL Will, said Rousseau, cannot be delegated, although power mayand the people cannot, even for a moment, part with its sovereignty! If this were admitted, the King might be an agent to execute the will of the legislature, but he could have no voice in legislation. Apart from these, speculative cons'derations, the Left distrusted the King much, the Ministers more, the Queen and courtiers most of all. They were afraid that the absolute veto might bar all further progress, and did not pause to reflect that, the legislature having complete control over the revenue, the King could hardly use his negative voice except in cases where he might with some hope of success appeal to the nation from its representatives.

Those who, like Mounier, valued .English precedents, do not seem to have noticed that the King of England had in reality lost the power of rejecting Bills. Hardly any foreigner then understood that, apart from the existence of a Second Chamber, the only real check upon capricious legislation in England is the responsibility of the Cabinet, which controls the majority in the,Commons. Yet Mounier might expect far more support for the absolute veto than he had gained for the Second iJhamber. Prudent men had already begun to note the impulsive .temper of the Assembly, still more its submission to clamour from without, and were anxious to give, these failings a counterpoise. Among such men was Mirabeau, who had declared in the debate of June 15 that he would rather live at Constantinople than in France, if the legislature were to, dispense with the royal sanction. On this point at least all the high royalists, all who had opposed the union of the Orders, agreed with Mirabeau and Mounier. The opposing forces were therefore well matched; and' the. debate was kept up for several days. Sieyes spoke with all his usual point against allowing the King any veto whatever. Mounier put forth all. his powers in defence of the recommendations of the Committee. Mirabeau spoke on the same side, although the feeling that he had to maintain an unpopular cause seems to have damped his natural fire, and he refrained from voting in the final division. The event was perhaps determined by Necker’s excess of caution. Lafayette, who wished to be popular and was swayed by American precedent, wrote earnestly to Necker and Mounier in favour of the suspensive veto, warning them of the disasters which might occur if they tried to obtain more for the King. Bamave, Duport, Alexandre Lamethj and other leaders of the Left, repeated these prayers and warnings. Mounier was unshaken; but Necker and some of his col­leagues toid their friends in the House that, unless the absolute veto could be carried by a decisive majority, it would be better to vote for the suspensive veto. Necker persuaded the Council to declare for the suspensive yeto, and to send to the Assembly a memorandum stating

this resolution. Mourner, who divined its import, induced the Assembly to decide that the cover should not be opened until after the division. But Necker’s known irresolution and the menaces of the democrats ensured Mounier’s defeat. The division took place on September 11. That the King should have a veto was resolved by 730 voices to 143; that the veto should be merely suspensive was resolved by 673 voices to 325. This was the second defeat of the party which derived its political principles from England, and it was decisive.

Mounier, Bergasse, Lally-Tollendal, and Clermont-Tonnerre now resigned their seats on the Constitutional Committee; whereupon their colleagues, who had differed with them regarding the veto, did likewise. The first Constitutional Committee thus came to an end. On Sep­tember 15 the Assembly named a new Committee, including, besides Sieyes, Talleyrand and Le Chapelier, Thouret, Target, Desmeuniers, Rabaut-Saint-]£tienne, and Tronchet. The new Committee contained not a single representative of the nobles, and Talleyrand was only in name a representative of the clergy. It represented the main body of the Left, who desired to preserve the form while destroying the substance of monarchy. The Constitution of 1791 was in the main its work.

Soon after the second Committee had been formed the removal of the King and the National Assembly from Versailles to Paris gave the Revolution new energy. The insurrection of October 5 and 6 has been described by different witnesses with countless differences of detail, but its object and character are clear. The extreme popular party was enraged at the slow progress made by the Assembly and full of distrust of the King. The King might well listen to those among his family and friends who pressed him to quit Versailles for some place where he might regain his freedom of action and appeal to the loyalty of the Provinces. Enough was known to raise suspicion; and one or two incidents, small in themselves, served as the pretext for a tumult. Since the troops assemhled under Marshal de Broglie had been sent back to their quarters, the palace of Versailles had been entrusted to the gardes du corps and the National Guard of the town. These were now reinforced by the Flanders regiment. On October 1 the officers of the gardes du corps gave a banquet in the palace theatre to the officers of the Flanders regiment and of the National Guard. After the banquet the King, Queen, and Dauphin appeared for a few moments, while the company drank their healths with fervour. When the royal party had retired the guests grew clamorous, uncivil things were said about the National Assembly, and white cockades were offered by gardes du corps to the officers of the National Guard, and accepted by some of them in lieu of the tricolour badges. As the story of the banquet got about, it was adorned with many circumstances more or less fabulous; and the public was given to understand that traitors were hatching a grave military plot against the Assembly and the nation. That there was such a plot

has never been proved, and that plotters worth considering would betray themselves in this boyish fashion is most unlikely.

But nothing more was needed to raise Paris. There the causes which had kept up disorder were still at work. Although the harvest of 1789 had been bounteous, the lawless state of the countiy and constant inter­ference with the com trade rendered food dear. Many rich inhabitants had left Paris, and foreign visitors were dwindling. Great numbers of domestic servants and artisans were thus thrown out of work and in risk of starvation. What with idleness, hunger, zeal for the Revolution, or mere love of mischief, there were thousands ready to riot when the orators of the clubs, the agents of the Duke of Orleans, and the newspapers should give the signal Had the orderly citizens, the National Guards, and their chief, been resolute to suppress tumult, this might have mattered little; but the weakness of their action suggests that they likewise wished to see the King and the Assembly at Paris, and under their own influence. On The morning of October 5 a crowd, in the first instance chiefly of women, although afterwards supported by men, assembled in the Place de Greve and began an assault on the Hotel de Ville. Feebly resisted by the National Guards on duty, they forced their way in, seized a quantity of arms and were about to hang an abbe whom they chanced to find there, when a certain Stanislas Maillard, who had taken part in the attack of the Bastille, raised the cry “To Versailles.” The women followed him, and on the march were joined by crowds of male rioters. Lafayette had been sent for, and had arrived after the women had left the Hotel de Ville. He had put the National Guard under arms, but they were divided in mind. Many of the battalions, we are assured by Thiebault, would have obeyed an order to close the roads leading to Versailles, and such an order must have baffled the insurrection. Lafayette did not give the order but sat on horseback for several hours in the Place de Greve, vainly haranguing the National Guards and the populace, till it became known that other riotous crowds were following the first to Versailles, when the municipality authorised Lafayette to lead his forces thither also. He set out a little before five o’clock.

Meantime the horde of men and women had reached Versailles, had forced their way into the hall where the Assembly was sitting, had demanded a decree lowering the price of bread, and showed themselves determined to remain there all night. The King had come back from hunting to find Versailles in an uproar. The women had sent him a deputation which he received graciously; but, when the deputation returned, they were nearly murdered by the rest. About midnight Lafayette arrived with his troops. Amid rain and mud the National Guards and the mob bivouacked in the avenues and open spaces of Versailles; and Lafayette, after taking what proved ineffectual measures . for the safety of the palace, retired to rest just before daybreak. A little later the Paris mob found an unguarded door, made their way into the

palace, and assailed the Queen’s apartment, killing two of the gardes du corps who strove to withstand them. Marie-Antoinette had barely time to fly to the King’s apartment, when the rioters rushed into her room, and (stabbed the bed with their pikes. But now the alarm had been given; and a detachment of the National Guards appeared in time to stop further violence and save a number of the gardes du corps from instant death. At length Lafayette himself came and induced the King and Queen to show themselves on a balcony to the crowd that filled the court. By announcing the King’s resolution to confirm the Declaration of the Rights of Man and to come to Paris he turned the fury of the mob into momentary good humour. On receiving this intelligence the Assembly declared itself inseparable from the person of the King and prepared to accompany him. Part of the rioters returned at once, bearing their trophy, the heads of the murdered gardes du corps. The King and the royal family left Versailles at noon and, moving slowly with the mixed horde of populace and National Guards, did not reach Paris till nightfall. They took up their abode in the Tuileries and were soon followed by the National Assembly, which established itself in the manege or riding-school. A judicial enquiry into the events of October 5 and 6 could not be avoided, but had no practical result, although it cast the deepest suspicion upon the Duke of Orleans, who fell into general discredit and presently accepted a mission to England as the least shameful manner of retreat.

- The removal of the King and the Assembly from Versailles to Paris opens a new period in the Revolution. On July 14 Louis may be said to have lost his crown; on October 6 he lost his personal freedom, and the Assembly, deliberating in the clutch of the Parisian mob, was almost as much a prisoner as the King. It did not yield without a struggle. For a little while strenuous efforts were made to enforce order. When the mob hung a baker named Francis, two of the murderers were promptly tried and executed. Mirabeau’s bill giving the municipal authorities extraordinary power to deal with un­lawful assemblies was voted by a large majority. But the respite thus gained was short; and all who were unpopular felt themselves in constant peril. A new emigration began, and more than two hundred deputies of the Right asked for passports; so that the Assembly resolved to deny them to all who could not assign sufficient cause. Mounier, having returned to Dauphine and vainly tried to raise the provincial Estates against the Assembly, spent the winter in retirement and afterwards took refuge at Geneva.

From this period also dates the growing power of the Jacobin Club. It had its origin in a small group of Breton deputies who, while the Assembly was yet at Versailles, had met occasionally to discuss the questions of the hour. This Breton Club, when the Assembly came to Paris, held its meetings in the convent of the Jacobins and opened them

to the public. It thus became a large popular society. It had always been a gathering of the Left, but for a long time was not exclusive. Bamave and the Lameths were at first the favourite speakers. Mirabeau himself was president of the Club so late as December, 1790. But that tendency of the democratic party to grow ever narrower and more fanatical, which might be seen in so many other places, was at work among the Jacobins also. Before the dissolution 'of the Assembly the Lameths and Bamave had seceded from the Club, and Robespierre and Petion had gained the ascendancy. Meanwhile the Club had, by means of its affiliated societies, spread its influence far beyond Paris. It abetted all the disorders of the capital and the Provinces and did its best to make government impossible, pending the time when its leaders should govern;

These events completely changed the relation of parties in the National Assembly. Outnumbered and hopeless, the Right might pro­long the struggle, but could not hope for victory; while the Left had to encounter only so much resistance as kept them eager and united. Mirabeau, indeed, was convinced that the Revolution could not be brought to a happy end unless some authority were restored to the Crown. Almost immediately after the October insurrection he had begun that secret correspondence with the King and Queen which paints so vividly the disorders of the time and the workings of his own powerful but unequal genius. In the Assembly he might snatch an occasional success, as when he carried a decree that the regency should always vest in the eldest male relative of a King under age; but he had no following and could exert no steady power. Nay, he fell under the suspicion of the popular party, and had to redeem the votes and speeches most in accord with his own opinions by outbreaks which aroused the distrust of the King and Queen. He thus failed entirely to control the course of events.

The relation of the King’s Ministers to the National Assembly was the next subject of grave constitutional debate. The familiar maxim of the separation of powers led to the inference that the chiefs of the executive should be excluded from the legislature, and the American precedent might be quoted on that side. Yet the exclusion had already proved inconvenient. In July the Assembly, while disclaiming ex­ecutive power, had expressed its regret at Necker’s departure, and had asked the King to dismiss his new Ministers. Since then Louis had bestowed office on three well-known members of the Assembly, the Archbishop of Bordeaux, whom he made Keeper of the Seals, the Comte de La’Tour du Pin, whom he made Minister of War, and the Archbishop of Vienne, whom he admitted to the Council; and the Assembly had thanked him for this mark of confidence, although it excluded the persons preferred from any further share in its proceedings. In his secret correspondence with the King, Mirabeau had recommended him to

form a Ministry entirely of men chosen from the Assembly. Some of the most distinguished chiefs of the Left, the Lameths, Duport, and Bamave, agreed with Mirabeau on this subject, and wished to replace the actual Ministers, including Necker, who had lost much of his popularity, by deputies of known liberal opinions. They encouraged Mirabeau to concert measures with Lafayette; and Lafayette, while he thought that Necker could not be spared, raised no objection to the principle that Ministers should sit in the legislature. In a plan for a new Ministry, which Mirabeau submitted to Lafayette, lie proposed to retain Necker as chief, with the Archbishop of Bordeaux and La Tour du Pin, but to fill the other ministerial offices with deputies, reserving for himself only a seat in Council without a department. Counting on Lafayette’s good-will and on his own ascendancy, now at its height, Mirabeau felt strong enough to raise the question in the House; and on November 6, in the course of a financial debate, he took the oppor­tunity of asserting that the Ministers would never be in real accord with the Assembly until they had seats there. The State, he said, must be helpless, while the legislative and executive powers, regarding each other as enemies, feared to discuss the public interest in common. He therefore moved that, pending the settlement of the Constitution, the King’s Ministers should have a consultative voice in the Assembly. Such admirers of the English system as remained, notably Clermont- Tonnerre, welcomed the suggestion; and nobody had condemned it, when the debate stood adjourned.

But the English practice of choosing the Ministers from the legislature was for opposite reasons distasteful to the Right and the Left. Many of the Right regarded it as a means of yet further weakening the Crown. The King would be forced to take the most popular deputies for his Ministers, and his executive power would be transferred to the Assembly. On the Left many feared that Ministers, who were members of the Assembly, would possess means of terrifying or corrupting their colleagues, and that the ablest deputies would be seduced from their principles by the hope of office and favour. Some rumour of a parlia­mentary Ministry, in which Mirabeau would find a place, had got abroad ind had alarmed jealous patriots. Nothing is stranger in the French Revolution than the all-pervading suspicion at work under the fair surface of public spirit and fraternal love; and nothing did more to blight the promise of a better and happier order of society. When the debate was resumed on the following day, a young member, named Lanjuinais, who lived to earn an honourable fame, moved a decree to the effect that no deputy should be allowed to accept any place or pension from the executive during the existence of the legislature or for three whole years after. A reference to the aims of Mirabeau aroused all the jealousy of his colleagues; and Mirabeau felt that there remained no hope of success. He closed a speech of scorn and defiance with an

amendment narrowing the prohibition to “ M. de Mirabeau, deputy of the commons of the senechaussee of Aix.” The Assembly adopted an amendment to the original motion, by which deputies were to be excluded from office only so long as the Assembly should last. Mirabeau, who ascribed his defeat to the ill faith of Lafayette and the enmity of the Ministers, hoped for some time that it might be reversed; but the opportunity never came, and the principle asserted by Lanjuinais was embodied in the Constitution.

How little the principles which guided the Assembly in forming the Constitution would admit of any real pouter in the executive, was seen in the debates upon the right of making treaties and declaring war. In the spring of 1790 the dispute between the English and Spanish governments over the region adjoining Nootka Sound on the western side of North America had reached such a height that war seemed probable, and a naval armament was set on foot in England. Spain claimed the help of France under the Family Compact, and her claim was acknowledged by Louis and his Ministers. Montmorin therefore informed the President of the Assembly that, as the English preparations menaced France, the King had ordered fourteen sail of the line to be got ready for sea. He might well hope that the ancient enmity against England would impel the Assembly to support the King, and that the outbreak of loyal and patriotic ardour would impart new life to the government. But the Assembly, without bestowing a thought on the immediate need, took occasion to discuss the principles which should hereafter guide France in her foreign relations. If treaties are acts of sovereign power, and if the people cannot alienate its sovereignty even for a moment, no treaty can be valid unless made with the express consent of the people. Since none of the treaties, by which France was actually bound, had received the express consent of the people, none of them could be binding in itself, although theme might be reasons of justice or expediency for acting as though it did bind. Thus France was free to take her own course in foreign affairs, unfettered by previous obligations. Robespierre, Petion, Bamave, and other orators of the Left, proposed that the nation should solemnly renounce all thought of conquest. When other nations had regained their freedom, they would do the same and wars would cease; for all wars had hitherto arisen out of the ambition of Kings, and no nation would take up arms save in a just cause. Diplomacy and ambassadors were useless; general alliances were out of date; and nothing more was needed than national pacts with just peoples, The National Assembly should tself undertake the negotiation of treaties and exercise the power of war and peace. In vain Mirabeau observed that popular assemblies were as subject to passion as Kings, and not subject to any responsibility like Ministers. In vain he asked whether,, because France had suddenly changed her own political system, she would force all other nations to change theirs. In

vain he urged the madness of disarming before Europe in arms. In vain he annexed all imaginable safeguards to his proposal that the King should still have the power of making war and peace. The King on declaring war was immediately to notify the fact to the legislature, which might call the Ministers to account or refuse the necessary credits, or at any time in the course of the war require the executive to make peace. All treaties with foreign Powers were to be negotiated and signed by the King and approved by the legislature. The Assembly manifested its preference for Bamave’s proposal that the legislature should have the power of concluding treaties and making war or peace, and that the King should merely have the right to recommend such a course of action as he thought expedient. The debate aroused a new agitation in Paris, and a fly-sheet entitled The Treason of the Comte de Mirabeau discovered was hawked all through the streets. Mirabeau thought it necessary to retreat from his position, and in a second speech two days later accepted an amendment by Le Chapelier, which was in effect the same as Bamave’s project, although it expressly reserved to the King the sole initiative of proposals for war or peace. The Assembly added to its decree a declaration that the French people renounced all wars of conquest, and would never employ its forces against the liberty of any other nation.

The Assembly gave a new proof of its resolve to keep foreign affairs in its own immediate charge when it cancelled the permission given by the Ministers to the Comte de Mercy-Argenteau, the Austrian ambassador, for the passage of some Austrian troops from Luxemburg through France to Belgian territory. It then named a Committee of six, in­cluding Bamave and Mirabeau, to review all treaties to which France was a party. Meantime the English government continued its pressure upon the King of Spain (Charles IV), and he renewed his appeal for help to his kinsman. Mirabeau prevailed on the Diplomatic Com­mittee to turn the Family Compact into a national compact, at the same time omitting the offensive clauses. On August 26 the Assembly invited the King to equip forty-five sail of the line, and to tender to Spain the revised treaty as the basis of a new alliance. But the Spaniards had not asked the French to conclude a new treaty; they had called for help under an old treaty, which the Assembly had cancelled without ask, .ig their leave. Feeling how vain it was to trust an ally of this kind, they preferred to make terms with their enemy, and, by the Treaty of the Escurial, October 12, 1790, they yielded all the points which they had disputed with England. The impotence of the French Crown was now as patent in foreign as in domestic affairs. It may excite some surprise that the Assembly, which acknowledged the nation liable for the King’s debts, should have treated the nation as not bound by treaties which the King had concluded. But the majority was im­pelled, not so much by scruples about the sovereign rights of the nation,

as by deep jealousy and distrust of the Crown, and by fear lest the emergencies of foreign affairs should enable it to regain somewhat of its power and dignity.

As the basis of the new Constitution, the Assembly decreed a new division of the territory. The old territorial divisions of France, the growth of ages, were in many respects ill suited to the needs of a modern people. Most ancient of all were the dioceses, in part at least dating back to the time when Gaul was embraced in the Roman Empire. Next came the Provinces, formed chiefly in the period of feudal dispersion. They were very unequal in size, most irregular in form, and sometimes interlaced in a highly awkward manner. The Crown had from time to time instituted new modes of division for administrative purposes, governments, genb-aliUs, elections. Lowest came the towns and rural communes, many of them defined in a very remote period. In making a new division the Assembly was prompted partly by the wish to form areas convenient for a new and uniform system of administration and for the election of deputies to the legislature, partly by the wish to extirpate along with the Provinces the last traces of that provincial feeling which had found utterance even in the elections for the States General. Even in 1789 some of the Provinces regarded themselves as united on equal terms with the French monarchy and affected the style of a nation, the Breton, Beamese, Proven9al, or Franc-Comtois nation. According to the scheme settled by the Constitutional Committee, France was to be divided into about eighty Departments, as nearly as might be of the same size, each Department into Districts averaging six or seven, and each District into Cantons averaging eight or nine. The Cantons were made up of municipalities, that is, of the old communes, the only historical divisions preserved, in number upwards of forty thousand.

As the scheme was finally carried out there were eighty-three Departments. In forming them a certain regard was paid to provincial boundaries and provincial sentiments. A small Province sometimes became a Department by itself. A large Province was usually divided into a number of complete Departments ; and, only where strong reasons of convenience could be alleged, was a Department formed out of two or more Provinces. Nevertheless there vanished all that was left of old provincial institutions as well as of the old administrative system devised by the Kings of France and their ministers. The new Depart­ments, Districts, aud Cantons, had no history, no associations, no inner life or bond of common feeling, and presented a smooth blank surface upon which the legislator might impress whatever pattern he thought proper. Some writers have blamed the Assembly for thus wasting the force which immemorial local ties and instinctive local patriotism might have given to a new system of self-government. But the Assembly was saturated with the doctrine that esprit de corps is the enemy of public spirit, and that the attachment of the citizen to any smaller group conflicts

with allegiance to the commonwealth. In this matter the Assembly partook far more than it suspected of the jealous temper of the old monarchy and, without knowing it, cleared the field for a new despotism. Englishmen, who know how impossible it would be to blot out the English counties, may wonder at the ease with which the Assembly effected these territorial changes. But it was characteristic of the French Revolution that the people seemed to find a pleasure in renouncing their history, and in destroying even the names and forms which recalled the past.

During these debates France continued to offer the strange sight of a people almost without a government and in the highest tension, sometimes of amiable, sometimes of savage excitement. Characteristic of the time were the so-called “federations” in which the National Guards of neighbouring districts met to swear mutual friendship and obedience to the decrees of the Assembly. These federations began in the south towards the close of 1789. The friends of the Revolution saw their value. The municipality of Paris proposed and the Assembly decreed on June 5, 1790, a general federation of the whole of France, to be consummated on the anniversary of the capture of the Bastille. Depu­tations from all the National Guards of the Provinces, from all the regiments of the army, and from the fleet, were to assemble on that day in the Champ de Mars, together with the National Guard of Paris, and to swear fidelity to the nation, the law, and the King. As the labourers employed could not finish the earthen amphitheatre in time for the ceremony, people of both sexes and of all ages, ranks, and conditions, came to their help, till, it is said, two hundred thousand men, women, and children were digging and delving. On July 14, in the presence of the King, the Queen, the National Assembly, and an innumerable concourse of spectators, including fourteen thousand representatives of the National Guard and eleven thousand representatives of the army, Talleyrand, Bishop of Autun, assisted by two hundred priests in tricolour scarves, celebrated Mass at the altar raised in the midst of the amphi­theatre. Lafayette, the hero of the hour, was the first to take the oath. He was followed by the president of the National Assembly and by the King. Then followed the oaths of the deputations. The electric shock of the enormous crowd, the pageant, the strains of military music, and the incessant salutes of artillery wrought up the onlookers to what Ferrieres terms “ a delicious intoxication.” The National Guards from the Provinces showed much good-will to the King personally; but their zeal for the Revolution was refreshed by their visit to its centre. Nor did the fraternal scenes enacted in Paris and other cities and towns hinder the outbreak of passions of a very different nature.

The federations completed the dissolution of the regular forces by bringing them under the direct influence of the revolutionary clubs. The soldiers everywhere chose regimental committees to manage their

192 The regiment of Chateau-Vieux in mutiny. [1790

affairs, and sent deputations to their commanders to ask for redress of their grievances, which were often very real. Garrisons sent deputations to each other or to the National Assembly. Sometimes the men went further, put their officers under restraint, helped themselves from the regimental chest, and spent the money in taverns and brothels. This licence nowhere went further than with the garrison of Nancy, consisting of two French regiments and the Swiss regiment of Chateau-Vieux. When the Marquis de Bouille, general of the army of the East, had failed in bringing them back to obedience, the National Assembly had interposed and sent an officer of high rank, M. de Malseigne, to carry out its decree. But the soldiers and mob of Nancy set him at defiance and he barely escaped from their hands to Luneville. There he was seized by another mutinous regiment and ht? tided over to the rebels at Nancy. Bouille, having mustered a small but faithful body of regular troops and a few National Guards, sumironed Nancy on August 81. After some parleying the rebels obeyed and the mutinous regiments began to defile out of the city. But then the armed populace fired on Bouille’s men, who answered bj storming the gate; and the mutineers at the sound of the cannon hurried back to help their late allies. After a furious combat of three hours, in which he lost forty officers and four hundred men, Bouille forced his way into the town and compelled a fresh surrender. The mutiny of Nancy had caused such alarm that not only the King but the National Assembly returned thanks to Bouille and the troops which had served under him. In accordance with the privilege of the Swiss regime) .ts in the service of France, the Swiss officers sat in judgment upon the mutineers of Chateau-Vieux. Twenty-two were sentenced to death and some fifty to the galleys. The French regiments were disbanded, but suffered no further penalty. Regimental clubs were forbidden but throve none the less. Danton. Marat, and all who like them desired to prolong anarchy as the means to a more thorough revolution, clamoured against the general, the Minister for War, and the Assembly itself, and at length got an amnesty for the Swiss soldiers condemned to the galleys. Desertion continued to thin the rank and file. The officers emigrated in crowds. Even the firm Bouille found that he could not trust more than a remnant of his troops, and outside his command there was no more than the shadow of an army.

The navy had fallen into equal disorder. Both the workmen in the royal dockyards and the sailors had their grievances, which they expected the National Assembly to redress, and both were skilfully urged to mutiny by the clubs and the newspapers. So early as November, 1789, the workmen at Toulon broke out into riot because Comte d’Albert de Rions, the director of the port, had forbidden them to wear the tricolour cockade, or to enlist in the National Guard. As the only means of saving his life he was hurried off to prison. The commissioner sent down by the Assembly reported that there was no reason to punish

anybody. A new director of the port was appointed. At Brest in September, 1790, the sailors mutinied because a drunken man was ordered off the Patriote for insulting one of the officers. The popular club at Brest took up the cause of the mutineers. The municipality interfered to protect them. The Assembly sent commissioners to restore discipline, but they availed nothing. Although the mutiny was in part directed against the new penal code for the navy, a committee report ascribed it to the misconduct of the Secretary for the Navy and the delay in adopting the tricolour flag. But the resignation of the Minister and the use of the tricolour did not satisfy the culprits, who forced the Assembly to repeal the unpopular clauses of the penal code and to give formal, thanks to the Jacobin club at Brest. There could no longer be any question of discipline in the French navy. Here also the officers emigrated and the men deserted. But here the mischief was not repaired as it was in the army. Neither the Republic nor the Empire could form such a navy as had disputed the command of the sea with England in the American War.

On the colonies the Revolution in France had consequences grave in themselves, but rendered terrible by the perverse handling of the National Assembly. In the French West India Islands the governors were jealous of the Intendants who had charge of the finances; the planters and the merchants stood to each other as the nobles to the bourgeoisie at home; the mulattoes were a large and discontented class; and the white popu­lation was outnumbered by the iiegro slaves in the proportion of one to eight. Some representatives of the planters had found seats in the National Assembly, and the events of July had led the colonists, especially in the great island of San Domingo, to set up municipalities and enrol National Guards. An assembly of planters at Leogane went further and claimed for San Domingo the right to give itself a constitution which would only need to be confirmed by the King. But this assembly could not resist the new governor, the Comte de Peynier, and its ring­leaders fled to France in August, 1790. Then the commander of the regular troops at Port-au-Prince, the capital, disarmed the National Guards and imprisoned the colonial committee. Next the mulattoes raised a rebellion to gain the rights of citizenship. They were put down, and their leader, Vincent Oge, was broken on the wheel. Early in 1791 the arrival from France of some troops tainted with the spirit of mutiny emboldened the mean whites and the colonial troops at Port-au-Prince to rise and make themselves masters of the city. When these events were reported at home the National Assembly, without taking any measure to enforce order, decreed the abolition of slavery and bestowed civic rights on all the inhabitants of the colonies. Six months later the negroes of San Domingo, learning that they were free, took up arms and began the most terrible servile war of modem times, ending in the ruin of the colony. Martinique and Guadeloupe underwent miseries less in

degree but the same in kind. Even the isles of Bourbon and Mauritius and the French settlements in India were shaken by the disorders of the mother country.

In the beginning of September Necker resigned. Very soon after his return to office in July of 1789 he had lost all popularity and power. The course of events had disproved his pretension to be considered a statesman, and the .Assembly neglected to use even his skill as a man of business. Its committees did his work without listening to his advice; and his position, which had long been painful and humiliating, became dangerous after the affair of Nancy. On September 2 his house had to bo protected by the National Guard against the mob, which shouted “ Down with the Ministers ! Death to Bouille! ” The next day he tendered his resignation, which the Assembly accepted without a word of thanks or regret. He returned to his native country, but not without having been twice arrested on the way.

The utter ruin of the ancient institutions of France, the determination of so many of the principles of the new order, and the redivision of the territory, left, as it might seem, no more than the details of the Consti­tution to be enacted. But the aspect of public affairs, the temper of parties, and the relation of the King to the Assembly, matters of so much consequence when an absolutely new system of government was to be elaborated and brought into working, were all changed for the worse by the attempt of the Assembly to reform or rather remodel the Church of France.

A change in the relations of Church and State, a reduction in the number, wealth, and political power of the clergy were indeed inevitable. Many of the cahiers, we have seen, touched upon these subjects, although they rarely or never raised questions of doctrine or worship* The bulk of the French people were orthodox, if not zealous Catholics; but the Assembly contained a majority, hostile in different degrees as Jansenists, Protestants, or freethinkers, to the existing ecclesiastical order, and im­patient to requite all that they had suffered from the intolerance of Rome. It was thus that the Assembly approached the most delicate and difficult part of its task in a harsh and unsympathetic spirit. It did not dissolve the connexion of Church and State, but rendered that con­nexion intolerable to most of the clergy, even as it had preserved the monarchy whilst making the King’s position as humiliating as possible.

The merely political power of the clergy was abated by the union of the three Estates in one assembly, for it was certain that a constitution framed by a majority of laymen would never restore their separate po­litical existence. The night of August 4 witnessed the first inroad upon the wealth of the clergy, inasmuch as the suppression of feudal rights would affect prelates and monasteries as well as lay seigneurs, and the suppression of tithes would affect almost all the clergy. But in that feverish sitting it had not been determined what ancient rights should

1789-90] Church land and tithe.—Religious Orders. 195

be commuted for money and what should be merely cancelled. On several occasions the heads of the Church declared their readiness to make considerable sacrifices, but they always tried to avert the assertion of the principle that the wealth of the Church was the property of the nation, and this principle the majority was resolved to enforce to its uttermost conclusions. First it was decided, against the arguments of Sieyes, that the tithes should be suppressed without any compensation. A sum of at least 70,000,000 livres, nearly £3,000,000 a year, was thus divided among the landowners of France in proportion to their wealth; and perhaps two-fifths of all the ecclesiastical revenues were swept away at a single stroke. Meantime disorder had risen to such a height that scarcely any revenue could be collected; and, as nobody would lend to the State, bankruptcy seemed approaching. On October 10, therefore, Talleyrand proposed that the nation should take the Church lands into its possession and sell them in order to pay its debts. Mirabeau moved the Assembly to declare that these lands belonged to the nation, subject to the duty of making a provision for the clergy, and that no cure should have less than 1200 livres a year as stipend. A law embodying these proposals was voted on November 10; and by a law of December 19 a sale of lands was actually ordered. At the same time the first issue of assignats was sanctioned. It is unnecessary here to trace the subsequent measures by which the vast wealth of the French Church was dissipated.

The numbers of the clergy were reduced by the law of February, 1790, which deprived monastic vows of all legal force, leaving the inmates of religious Houses free to return to the world, suppressed the existing religious Orders, and forbade the introduction of any new ones. All the monastic property now became available for secular purposes, but pensions were assigned to the Religious. Those who wished to continue their former way of life were allowed to do so in Houses set apart for the purpose; and the Orders engaged in charity or education, as well as the convents of women, were left undisturbed. Many monks and friars availed themselves of their new liberty, but the nuns generally preferred to remain in their convents. As anarchy grew in France, and political and religious hatreds became more venomous, the condition of those who kept to their vows became most painful. Their pensions were irregularly paid, they were harassed by the municipalities, and threatened, sometimes brutally maltreated, by the mob. All this, however, lay in the future. So tepid was the Catholic feeling of the time, so useless had most of the monasteries become, and so unpopular were most of the religious Orders, that the dissolution called forth little resistance. The Assembly might have acted more wisely in continuing that gradual suppression of decayed communities which the Crown had begun; but so far it had not raised up any formidable religious opposition.

It was the new form imposed upon the relation of the clergy to the State which broke the alliance between the cures and the commons, and

fastened the conflict between the French Revolution and the See of Rome. The majority of the Assembly was imbued with the notion that al independent corporations are evils to society; and its leaders had committed themselves to the principle that the clergy shpuld be regarded as a branch of the public service employed to teach morals and dispense charity. In the F<cclesiastical Committee the prevailing temper was deepened by the influence of the Jansenists, especially of Camus and Treilhard; and the “civil constitution of the clergy” presented on its behalf to the House in May, 1790, was a direct challenge to the feelings and traditions of orthodox Roman Catholics.

By this constitution the ancient ecclesiastical dioceses and provinces were set aside. Henceforward there was to be one Bishop and no more in each Department; and the Metropolitans were reduced to ten. All French citizens were forbidden to recognise the authority of any Bishop or Metropolitan whose see lay outside the kingdom, although by a later amendment a new Bishop was allowed to write to Rome as a testimony of unity of faith and communion with the head of the Church. The cathedral Chapters were suppressed, and to each Bishop was assigned a council of vicars, whose concurrence was needed for every act of jurisdic­tion. A reduction was also made in the number of parishes. All ecclesiastical offices became elective. The Bishop was to be chosen by the electors of the Department, and the cure by the administrative assembly of the District; while no man was to be disabled from voting by the circumstance that he was not a Catholic. Only persons who had been in orders for a time fixed by law were eligible; and when elected they had to undergo examination by the Bishop or Archbishop; but his power of rejecting was severely limited. The stipends of all the clergy were fixed. The Bishop of Paris alone was to receive 50,000 livres a year; the rest were to have from 20,000 to 12,000 livres according to the size of their diocese. The parish priests were to re­ceive in Paris 6000 livres, and elsewhere from 4000 to 1200 livres; and the curates from 2400 to 700 livres. Residence was enforced by placing the clergy under the control of the local authority. In order to absent himself for more than a fortnight the Bishop must obtain leave from the Directory of the Department, the cure from the District Directory.

The advocates of the civil constitution of the clergy maintained that it did not touch doctrine or worship, but merely reformed discipline, and that it did not therefore encroach on freedom of conscience or go beyond the rightful province of the secular authority. The commanding in­fluence in the affairs of the Church, formerly enjoyed by the Crown, might fairly be claimed for the nation. If the King had formerly nominated the Bishops, and the King and other laymen had enjoyed the patronage of many livings, why should not the general body of French­men now exercise the same powers by way of election ? The Jansenists,

who swayed the Ecclesiastical Committee, were apt to magnify the authority of the State in the hope of effecting a reformation of the Church. “ A State,” said Treilhard, “ can admit or exclude a religion; a fortiori it can declare that it wishes a particular establishment to exist in a particular place or in this or that manner. When the sovereign believes a reform necessary, no opposition is admissible.” But, what­ever might be alleged in favour of the civil constitution of the clergy, it did undoubtedly shock the consciences of a great number of Frenchmen. They held the established discipline of the Church to be an essential part of the Catholic religion. They felt that the election of Bishops and parish priests by laymen, who need not even be members of the Church, and the implied denial of papal jurisdiction, would involve them in the guilt of schism. Some clerical members of the Assembly proposed the convocation of a national council to reform the Gallican Church and a negotiation with the Pope; but this did not satisfy the majority, who wished to enforce the absolute, unconditional prerogative of the legislature in matters ecclesiastical. Although the Assembly had adopted the principle of freedom of conscience and the principle of a State Church, it forgot in regulating the Church all deference to the scruples of the faithful, and returned unwittingly but surely to despotic precedents and the old contempt for human liberty.

Early in the year the Pope had taken alarm at the ecclesiastical measures of the National Assembly. He could not but condemn the civil constitution of the clergy, which extinguished his authority iii France, and he warned Louis that its acceptance would be an act of schism. Louis, with the deepest reluctance, but wholly unable to resist, gave his sanction to the ecclesiastical decrees on August 27. The clergy, already incensed by the confiscation of Church lands and the suppression of the religious Orders, were more stubborn in resistance. Many of the Bishops had protested against the civil constitution; the parish priests condemned it; some outbreaks of violence against the Protestants in the south betrayed the rekindling of fanaticism, and for the first time a popular movement counter to the Revolution became discernible. At Montauban, where the Protestant middle class formed a large part of the National Guard, while the municipality was Catholic, the Catholic mob on May 10 attacked the unarmed National Guards, killed or wounded sixty, and imprisoned the rest until they were set free by a commissioner from the National Assembly. A month later the two religions came to blows in Nimes; and the Protestants, with the help of the fanatic peasants from the mountains, gained the victory, killing over three hundred Catholics. Then the Catholic priests and nobles of the neighbouring departments planned a “ federation ” of Catholic parishes for August 18 on the plain of Jales; upwards of thirty thousand National Guards met there on the appointed day, heard mass and agreed to petition the Assembly that the Catholics of Nimes should be allowed

to arm, that those who had been imprisoned after the faction-fight should be set free, and that those who had suffered in their property should receive compensation. The Assembly denounced the federation of Jales as unlawful, but its promoters kept banded together.:.

These warning symptoms only hardened the imperious temper of the National Assembly. On November 26 the Ecclesiastical Committee reported in favour of compelling all beneficed ecclesiastics to swear that they would maintain to the utmost of their power the Constitution decreed by the Assembly and accepted by the King. After a fierce debate, in which Mirabeau outstripped the intolerance of the Ecclesi­astical Committee, the proposition was carried. The unhappy King hesitated, tried to gain time, appealed to the Pope; but at length, overborne by the urgent summons of the Assembly and by threats of instant violence against the clergy, if not against himself, he yielded and signed on December 26 the decree which was to bring so many evils upon France. The clerical members of the Assembly were now re­quired to take the oath. On January 4, 1791, the roll was called; and Bishops and priests with grave dignity declined.. The majority then retorted with a decree dej'-iving all ecclesiastics who persisted in their refusal. Everything that could be devised to induce the people to maltreat the refractory clergy was done by the popular clubs and newspapers. Yet only four prelates would swear, and they carried little weight; for the Archbishop of Sens and the Bishop of Autuh lacked character, and the Bishops of Viviers and Orleans lacked talent. One hundred and twenty-eight prelates and a large proportion of parish priests were deprived for refusing the oath. The election of. their successors caused yet more rancour; and the persons chosen, although generally respectable, were not of such commanding, merit, as to , make men forget how they had obtained preferment. Henceforth there were in the Gallican Church two hostile bodies of clergy: the one upheld by all the power of the State and all the violence of the mob; the other supported by whatever was left in France of Catholic zeal and orthodoxy. Bitter religious discord was added to all the other plagues of the time ; and the mischief begun by the National Assembly was made irreparable by the Legislative Assembly and the Convention.

The decrees of the Assembly regarding the Church drove the; King once more into active, although not open resistance. Since the failure of his attempt to use force in July of 1789, Louis had waited passively upon events. It is impossible that he should have approved of recent changes. Holding himself King by the grace of God, and knowing that he had meant well and made large concessions to the spirit of the time, he must have resented the loss of power and liberty, and he must have discerned in the anarchic and miserable state of France the assured retribution of revolt against lawful authority. Yet so indolent, so irresolute, so honestly averse from civil bloodshed was Louis, that it was

long before he concerted any measures against the National Assembly. He put no trust in his kinsmen who had emigrated, and he had no hope of aid from without. But the Assembly, in forcing him to approve the civil constitution of the clergy,,had made him do,what he believed to be wrong, what the Pope had condemned, what might imperil the souls of millions of faithful subjects as well as his own. In forcing him to approve the decree which exacted an oath to that constitution, the Assembly had driven him to take part in persecuting men whom he revered for a resistance believed by him to be a duty. “ I would rather be King of Metz than remain King of France in such a position,” he observed after signing the decree; “ but this shall not last long.” Louis could not indeed shake off those weaknesses which made him the most futile of conspirators. Still less could he measure the forces which had issued in the Revolution. To him it seemed that an unscrupulous faction had misled his good people, had all but deposed himself, and had oppressed his clergy and nobles. He meditated escaping from Paris, appealing to the sound part of the nation, and with the help of a display of force by friendly Powers restoring his authority and giving effect to his forgotten declaration of June 23, 1789. With more activity and courage, but with even less judgment, the Queen adopted these plans and looked round for help from abroad. Little was known, but much was suspected by the par __saas of the Revolution ; and from the autumn of 1790 events moved. steadily towards the issue foretold by Mirabeau, the abolition of the, monarchy, and the death of the King and Queen.

Mirabeau had strongly dissuaded recourse to foreign Powers, but Mirabeau had lost any little credit h^e ever possessed with the King by the rancour which he had recently displayed against the clergy. His death on April 4,1791, made no change in the projects entertained at Court. But none of the foreign Powers was disposed to intervene in French affairs, or to help in ending that paralysis of French power in which, all found their own advantage. The King and Queen therefore resolved to accept with seeming good-will whatever measures the Assembly might tender. There was only one submission which, even to gain time, the King would not make. Convinced that the priests who had taken the oath were schismatics, he would not avail himself of their minis­trations, but had the chapel of the Tuileries served by recusants. The revolutionary party insisted that, he must receive the Sacrament from a “ constitutional ” parish priest. When Louis tried to evade the difficulty by leaving Paris and spending Easter at St Cloud, the National Guards who were on duty at the Tuileries would not allow his departure. The mob rose in their support; the municipal authority would not interfere; and Lafayette could do nothing. Louis and his family had to return to the Tuileries. Two days later he had to appear in the Assembly and solemnly declare himself in the enjoyment pf liberty. Even the phleg­matic Bourbon must have felt the unutterable degradation of that

20*0 The flight to Varennes.—Martial law proclaimed. [1791

moment. Yet such were his embarrassments and so tardy his resolution that two more months were lost in plotting and preparation. On June 20 Louis attempted to fly with his family to Metz and the army of Bouille, leaving behind him a proclamation in which he rehearsed his griefs and retracted his consent to all the measures which had been tendered to him since the loss of his freedom. On the following day the fugitives were arrested at Varennes, and all hope of aid from the army, or from foreign governments, was extinguished. The Comte de Provence, who had taken another route, and adopted better measures, reached Brussels in safety.

Such was the awe which had long surrounded the royal office in Prance that the first emotion of the public, on learning the King’s flight, was one of fear. The alarm was soon dispelled by the news of his capture; but then the question arose how- he should be treated. A few Republicans wished to depose Louis, nor did they lack solid arguments; for what settled quiet could men expect with a King who had in truth to be kept a prisoner, if he were to acquiesce in his place under the Constitution ? . The main body of the Left, however, were monarchical in their peculiar fashion; they were weary of change and saw that the extreme democrats who would have dealt hardly with the King desired another and a more destructive revolution in which all who had anything to lose would alike suffer. The Assembly was satisfied therefore with decreeing that until the King had accepted the Constitution he should be suspended from his office. In fact he remained a prisoner as before.

The club of the Cordeliers with Danton at their head called not only for the deposition but for the trial of the King. A pe ’tion to that effect •vas laid for signature on the altar of the nation in the Champ de Mars. Two foolish persons whom curiosity led to hide themselves under the steps of the altar were found out and murdered. The National Assembly^ hearing that it was to be attacked, ordered Bailly to take measures for the safety of Paris. The municipality then proclaimed martial law, and Bailly and Lafayette went to the Champ de Mars, where Bailly read the proclamation enjoining the crowd to disperse. The crowd replied with stones and a few shots; and the National Guards fired, killing or wounding several persons. A panic ensued and many were trodden under foot in the tumult. Such was the incident which, became celebrated as the “massacre of the Champ de Mars,” July 17, 1791, for the Jacobins regarded all endeavours of the authorities to put down riot as partaking of murder and treason and afterwards dealt with Bailly accordingly.

Time and experience had brought the leaders of the Left, Barnave, Duport, and the Lameths, to those political opinions which they had combated in Mirabeau. At length they saw like Mirabeau that the Revolution could not be closed until the executive had regained some power. Like Mirabeau they tried to reach this end by coming to terms with the King and restoring so much of his prerogative as would enable

him to resist further encroachment. Like Mirabeau they were doomed to fail. In order to strengthen themselves against the Crown they had flattered extreme opinions and connived at lawless deeds; and, now that the fanatics and ruffians turned against them, they had no defence save the shadow of an executive power. They could expect no help from the Right who, since the capture of the King, had taken no part in the pro­ceedings of the Assembly. They could not gain the confidence of the King and Queen, who were only'the more embittered by the failure of their attempt at flight and merely sought to gain time by playing with the parliamentary leaders. Yet Bamave and Le Chapelier addressed themselves to Malouet as the most reasonable member of the Right; assuring him that they would support any fair amendment of the Constitution, if they could count upon the votes of his friends. Malouet had little hope of satisfying this condition, but he undertook to criticise the Constitution in the tribune, so as to give Bamave and Le Chapelier the opportunity of declaring themselves already convinced of the necessity for certain changes. On August 8 therefore Malouet ascended the tribune and began a speech to which the House listened so attentively that the Extreme Left grew impatient, and Le Chapelier suddenly moved that he should be no longer heard. Having found that scarcely any of the Right would support Malouet, Le Chapelier and his friends had determined not to bear alone the enmity of the Extreme Left, but to gain favour by silencing the very criticism which they had invited. By some strange fatality every attempt to control the Revolution seemed only to make it more violent.

All hope of restoring vigour to the executive was thus lost; and the faults of the Constitution were only enhanced in revision. The Constitutional Act was finally voted on September 3. Throughout its proceedings the Assembly had claimed a plenary constituent power and denied to the King any voice in determining the Constitution. His acceptance of the Constitution was necessary, not to its validity, but to his continuing to reign. After consulting many of the most eminent deputies, from Mauiy and Cazales to Bamave and Duport, Louis bowed himself to unconditional assent. The ceremony of the King’s oath to the Constitution took place on September 14 in a solemn sitting of the Assembly. Most of its members believed or hoped that the Revolution had run its course, and that the new order of things was solidly estab­lished. They were weary of their long toil, and the people were weary of them. On September 30 the National Assembly came to a close.

The Constitution of 1791 has for its preface the Declaration of Rights, a curious mixture of law, morals, and philosophy. Those clauses of the Declaration which may be termed legal ordain that no man shall be arrested or imprisoned save in the cases and according to ,the forms prescribed by law; that every man shall be deemed innocent until he has been judged guilty; that no ex post Jhcto penalty shall be inflicted; that

no man shall be troubled for any expression of opinion which does not trouble public safety; and that there shall be freedom of speaking, writing, and printing. Among the philosophical clauses those which assert that, all sovereignty resides in the nation, and that every citizen is entitled to concur in person or by his representatives in making laws and imposing taxes, are the most noteworthy ; the former as an express contra­diction of the ancient absolute monarchy, the latter because contradicted by the terms of the, Constitution itself. The Constitution begins with reenacting the laws which had abolished titles and orders of nobility, the purchasable and hereditary character of public offices, privileges of all kinds, all associations of members of trades or professions, and the binding force of religious vows. It goes on to confirm the new territorial division and municipal organisation, declares marriage a civil contract, and establishes civil registers of births, deaths, and marriages. Only then does it begin to determine the distribution of political power. Although sovereignty is inalienable in the nation, the nation can exercise its powers only by delegating them. , The representatives of the nation are the legislature and the King.

The legislature was to consist . of a single Chamber; and the number of representatives was fixed at seven hundred and forty-five. These were distributed between the Departments, on the threefold basis of extent, of population, and of the amount paid in direct taxes. Two hundred and forty-seven representatives were apportioned according to territory, two hundred and forty-nine according to population, and as many according to the amount of taxes paid. The indirect method of election was retained. The Primary Assemblies were held in towns and cantons. They were composed of “active citizens,” that is to say, men aged twenty-five and paying direct taxes equal to the, value of at least three days’ labour in that district, inscribed upon the rolls of the municipality and the National Guard* and not engaged in domestic service. They had to take the civic oath of fidelity to the, nation, the law, and the King. No man could exercise the rights of an active citizen in more than one place. The Primary Assemblies thus com­posed were to choose electors in the proportion of one for every hundred active citizens. For the electors a higher qualification was fixed. Besides fulfilling the other conditions of active citizenship, they must be owners or usufructuaries of property assessed to the taxes; if in a town of more than, six thousand nhabitants, at the value of at least two hundred days’ labour; if elsewhere, at the value of at least one hundred and fifty days’ labour. In a town of over six thousand in­habitants the tenant of a house valued at one hundred and fifty days’ labour, and elsewhere the tenant of a house valued at one hundred days’ labour, were qualified to be electors. So was any farmer or metayer, whose holding was assessed at four hundred days’ labour. The electors chose the members of the legislature, who were only required to satisfy

The legislature.—The King.

203

the conditions of active citizenship. Persons holding office in the administration or in the Courts of justice might be elected, but had to choose between a seat in the Assembly and their place in the public service. A member of the legislature might be reelected once; but after his second term two years must elapse before he could again offer himself as a candidate. The King and the servants of the Crown were excluded from any share in determining disputed points relative to the elections. Before taking their seats the representatives had to swear, in the name of the French people, that they would live free or die, and that they would maintain the Constitution.

The legislature was to last two years, and the King had no power to prorogue or to dissolve it. At the end of two years a fresh election followed as of course. It might adjourn itself at discretion, aind during the adjournment the King might and in certain junctures must convoke it. A deputy could not be Minister during his term of service or for two years afterwards. But Ministers of the Crown had an entry and a place assigned, might demand a hearing on matters concerned with their respective departments, and might on other occasions be granted a hear­ing by the House. The legislature had fall legislative power, qualified by the King’s suspensive veto, which did not extend to financial laws. A Bill was not to pass until it had been read three times with intervals of at least eight days. The legislature had executive authority in so far that its consent was necessary to proclaiming war, and its ratification to treaties of peace, commerce, or alliance; but it was debarred from any exercise of judicial power.

The King was styled “ King of the French by the grace of God and the will of the nation.” Royalty was to be indivisible and hereditary in the; male line of the House of Bourbon,, according to the rule of primogeniture. At his accession or, if a minor, when he came of age, he was to take an oath of fidelity to the nation, the law, and the Constitution. His person was to be inviolable and sacred, but he was to vacate his office if he failed to take or if he retracted his oath of fidelity, or if he led a military force against the nation, or did not formally condemn such an enterprise begun by others in his name, or, lastly, if he quitted the kingdom and did not return within a time fixed by the legislature. After vacating or resigning the throne he was to become a simple citizen, liable for unlawful acts committed since he ceased to be King. At a King’s accession his private estate was annexed to the national domain, and a Civil List was settled upon him for life. He was allowed a guard not exceeding 1200 foot and 600 horse, and paid out of the Civil List. It was to be recruited either from the regular army or from citizens who had served one year in the National Guard, and its members could obtain no promotion outside their own body. In case of a minority the nearest male relative became Regent if he satisfied certain conditions, and the custody of the King’s

person was entrusted to his mother. Eighteen years was to be the age of majority.

The King was the supreme executive power. As such he was the head of the administration, and the chief of the army and navy; he was charged with the external safety of the kingdom; he named all ambassadors and diplomatic agents; he chose the commanders of fleets and armies, and conferred the rank of marshal or of admiral. In the lower grades he had a more limited patronage. He appointed one-half of the lieutenant-generals, one-third of the colonels and lieutenant- colonels; two-thirds of the vice-admirals, half of the captains, and one-sixth of the naval lieutenants; subject in all cases to such laws as might regulate promotion. He also appointed to the various branches of the civil service. The annual list of pensions and gratifications to be laid before the legislature was drawn up by his command. The King fixed the distribution of the forces by land and sea, conducted negotia­tions, and signed treaties, subject to ratification by the legislature. Thus the kingly office, though far different to what it had been a few years before, might appear to retain considerable force and dignity. But the restraints upon it were stringent. The King had no control over the duration of the legislature, for the elections took place irrespective of his will and he could neither dissolve nor prorogue. He had no initiative in making laws, although he might invite the legislature to take any subject into consideration. He had, it is true, a suspensive veto upon bills. Should he exercise this veto, the measure could not be brought forward again in that Assembly; but, if it were passed without alteration in the two following, it became law without his consent. The King might not select his Ministers from among the deputies, and therefore the deputies were likely to regard his Ministers as dangerous men, to be suspected and thwarted. The Ministers were deprived of control over the local authorities and the National Guard, and in a great measure of control over the regular army. The King might propose a war to the legislature, but could not undertake one save by its decree. If the case called for immediate action, the King was to inform the legislature of what had been done, and, if it happened not to be sitting, was bound to convoke it at once. Should it disapprove of the recourse to arms, he must arrest the campaign. Not only was the King debarred from any exercise of judicial power, but he could not name the judges, who were to be elective. To these substantial checks upon his power we must add the change of forms intended to impress upon himself and all the world that his position was now a subordinate and a regulated one.

The remodelling of the administrative system ensured the impotence of the sovereign. For, although he had Ministers, he no longer had local agents or representatives. The local authorities founded upon the new subdivision of France were all elective. Each Department had an

administration of thirty-six persons, chosen for a term of two years by the electors out of such active citizens as paid in direct contributions at least the value of ten days’ labour. The administration was renewed by one-half every year. It consisted of a smaller part, the Directory,' and a larger part, the Council, of the Department. The Directory, consisting of nine persons, was the executive, and was always in action. The Council, consisting of all the other members, was deliberative, and held its session once a year. In every District the administration was similarly chosen and similarly i divided, the whole body consisting of twelve members, four of whom acted as the Directory. Below the District came the Canton, which had no administration, and below the Canton the communes or municipalities. All active citizens here took part in the election, but the conditions of being elected were the same as in the District or Department. As the municipalities varied in popula­tion from the smallest village to the largest city, the number of representatives was graduated from three, including the Mayor, where the population was under five hundred, to twenty-one where it exceeded one hundred thousand. These formed the permanent municipal body; but the active citizens also chose notables, who were in each municipality twice as many as the representatives, and who sat with these in the Council General of the commune, summoned only for certain important affairs. The officers of the municipal body were the Mayor, the Pro- cureur, and, in the larger communes, the Procurewr substitut. The executive of the municipal body, known as the Bureau, consisted of one-third of the members, always including the Mayor. A special constitution was framed for Paris.

The administration of the Department apportioned its quota of the direct taxes between the Districts; and the administration of the District apportioned its quota of these taxes among the municipalities. The authorities of the Department and the District were also supposed to exercise on behalf of the State a control and surveillance over the municipalities. But, since they were elected in their own neighbourhood, not appointed by the Crown, they were not in any real sense agents of the executive power. Nor had they strength of their own to make their control and surveillance effective. The Department and the District were of comparatively little moment, and all real force was in the municipalities. The municipalities possessed not only the usual powers of local administration, but also certain powers which in every other country have been retained by the State. They might almost be said to inherit the all-pervading authority of the Intendant and his sub­delegates. The) had the direction of public works and the management of public property. To them the National Assembly entrusted the Church lands for sale. They made out the roll of tax-payers, assessed the direct taxes, undertook the collection, and forwarded the sum paid to the District and Department, whence it reached the Treasury. The

206 Elective judges.—The Courts of justice.

municipalities alone could call out the troops, the National Guards, or the gendarmerie. The State, having no local representative, could neither collect its revenue nor defend its subjects. Nor had it any effective means of compelling the municipalities to do either. The King might indeed annul the acts of the local authority if contrary to law; he could suspend it if it were obstinate in disobedience. But this was an empty form, since he had no command of physical force, and the judges were elective. Accordingly the municipal authority did as it pleased, paid in the smallest sum it could, wielded its military power with the freedom of a prince, arrested travellers, opened letters, occupied forts, and laid hands on national property at its good pleasure. Thus the revenue shrank to the merest pittance, and the government became more helpless every day. Public order depended on the concurrence of more than forty thousand independent bodies; and the head of the State, virtually imprisoned by the municipal authority of Paris, was an apt symbol of the condition of the whole commonwealth. At the same time the municipalities, having no external support, were commonly helpless against insurrection and had to take their orders from the local club. So extreme a dispersion of power has perhaps never been witnessed in Europe.

The judicial system was entirely renewed in conformity with the ■loctrines of the sovereignty of the people and the separation of powers. Neither the legislature nor the King had any part in the administration of justice. The judges indeed acted in the King’s name, but they were all elected by the people. In each Canton and town one or more jvges de paix were established. These were chosen by the “active citizens” out of the citizens eligible to the local administrative bodies. They held office for a term of two years and could not be reelected. In every District there was a civil tribunal of five judges, elected for a term of six years and reeligible. Only professorial lawyers of a certain standing could be appointed. The different District tribunals in the same Department acted mutually as Courts of Appeal to each other. A supreme Court of Cassation, elected by the Departments, was to sit in the same place as the legislature. There were three degrees of criminal jurisdic­tion. The municipality heard petty police cases; the juge de paix and his assessors dealt with what we should term the lighter misdemeanours; and heinous offenders were tried by the Criminal Tribunal of the Department, which consisted of a president and three judges chosen by the electors. A High National Court was created to try persons accused by the legislature of political offences. Its members were chosen, two by the electoral Assembly of each Department. No judge could be deprived of his office unless on conviction of crime. Viewed as a whole, the new system had the merit of bringing justice within the reach of all, but afforded no sufficient guarantee for independence. The judges were numerous ; they were poor; they were elective; and they occupied their seats only for a time. None of the ordinary Courts was in a

The army.—The navy.—The National Guards. 207

position to withstand the stress of public feeling; and no judge could afford to depp’st popular solicitation or popular threats. He had nothing to fear from the government; but the government could not protect him if he honestly discharged his duty. The adoption of the jury in criminal cases, however excellent in itself, certainly gave no better chance of equity in a time of revolution. But all must approve the grant of counsel to accused persons, the mitigation of criminal punishment^ and many other real amendments of criminal law and

The armed forces of the nation were withdrawn from the King’s authority, as far as was compatible with their continued existence.' In the regular army the non-commissioned officers, at each vacancy in their number, agreed on a list of names. The captain selected three from the list, and the colonel chose from these. Sub-lieutenants were elected by the officers of the regiment. The lieutenants and captains and two-thirds of the colonels and lieutenant-colonels were appointed by seniority. In the navy the King’s power of choice was similarly restrained. Juries partly composed of privates and non-commissioned officers were introduced into the military Courts, thus taking from the commanders their last means of enforcing discipline. Although the Crown had power to distribute and to move the regular troops for the defence of the kingdom, it could not employ them to maintain order within. Over the National Guards the Crown had no control whatever. The Constitution expressly declared that they were not a military corps, or an institution in the State, being simply the general body of citizens under arms. No man could be an “active citizen” unless he were enrolled in the National Guard. All the officers were elected for one year only and not reeligible until a certain interval had elapsed. Like the other armed forces, the National Guards could act only on the requisition of the municipality, but, since it was they who chose the municipal councillors, this rule put no restraint on their action. Up­wards of four millions of men were thus permanently in arms under officers elected by themselves, with no discipline beyond that which they chose to undergo, and answerable to no civil control save that of their own creatures. Anarchy was thus enrolled, armed, made universal and incurable.

The National Assembly ended many gross abuses and proclaimed many sound principles, but failed to endow France with a stable consti­tution. The blame does not lie altogether with its members. To give a new form to a great kingdom, which had endured for many centuries, was a gigantic undertaking, and yet there was scarcely a single insti­tution in France which did not need to be renovated. More was required than merely to amend and purify, as in England a hundred years earlier, a political system in the main adequate to the wants of the people and rooted in its affections. Even in England it had been

needful to change the dynasty. In France, moreover, reform had been so long delayed that, when it came, society broke in pieces. With tumult raging all around, a numerous assembly could not attain the quiet and singleness of mind necessary to wise legislation. But whatever the excuses which may be made for the Constituent Assembly, its work was full of flaws. It conceded too much to theory, yet failed to satisfy logic. . It preserved some fragments of the old polity, but did not har­monise them with what was new. In its fear of reaction it ensured a new revolution.

All these errors may be traced in its treatment of the King. The institution of hereditary monarchy, if tried by the principles of the Cantrat Social, must be pronounced absurd and immoral. The force of habit and tradition and the fear of involving France in yet worse con­fusion at home and abroad caused it to be retained. But it was stripped of all power and usefulness, and abased in a way that stung even the inert Louis. He had no means of winning the confidence of the legisla­ture, for he might not take its chiefs to be his Ministers. He had no means of appealing from the> legislature to the country, for he had no right of dissolution. His veto on Bills was'merely suspensive; his part in foreign relations was merely subordinate. He was the chief of an administration which would not act, and of an armed force which would not obey. The Assembly might have retorted that the King of England lay under restraints almost as rigorous; but then the English Cabinet more than supplied his place. The Assembly was open to censure, not for refusing to pamper a prince, but for refusing to establish a fit executive. Either the French legislators thought that a weak executive is essential to freedom, or they regarded the King as a disarmed and imprisoned enemy who must be kept impotent. In the one alternative they were assuredly mistaken; in the other they crowned their labours with a fatal self-contradiction.

The Assembly was no happier in the constitution which it gave to its successor. In deference to the teaching of the Contrat Social it expressly declared that every citizen has a right to concur in making laws and granting taxes. At the same time it retained the method of indirect election which had been followed in choosing the deputies to the States General. It required a property qualification for the “active citizen” and a higher one for the elector, thus reducing many to the condition of “passive citizens.” Inexperienced as the members of the National Assembly were, they could not help seeing that a large part of the population, poor, grossly illiterate, and unused even to the humblest form of political life, were quite unfit to exercise the suffrage. They were not niggardly in bestowing the franchise, for the “ active citizens ” numbered upwards of four millions, and must have amounted to two- thirds of all the adult males. But, however wise and temperate the restriction, it stood condemned out of their own mouth. Yet it was

the only safeguard which they would tolerate. For they refused to institute a Second Chamber, and they carefully took from the King all means of influencing the representative body. They did not reflect that, in their eagerness to keep down the power of the executive, they had exposed the legislature to the dictation of the nearest body which possessed physical force, of the municipality, or even of the mob of the capital.

The administrative system established by the Constitution of 1791 was likewise an unhappy blending of the old with the new. The public, weary of the so-called ministerial despotism, the all-absorbing action of the Intendants, the numberless and tedious references to the Council, desired local self-government without knowledge of its limits or conditions. Vague recollections of medieval liberties, an enthusiasm for small republics gained in the course of a classical education, and loose notions of modem federal commonwealths, such as the United States of America, were all that men had to supply the want of experience in the management of local affairs in their own town or district. Even Mirabeau could so far misapprehend the French character as to declare himself convinced “that a great empire cannot be tolerably governed save as a confederation of small states, and that ours will be constituted thus or will be dissolved.” These feelings led the Constituent Assembly to abolish all the local organs of the national government, and to set up a purely elective administration. It multiplied elections until they took up a considerable part of the life of an active citizen, and elective councils until, according to one estimate, twelve hundred thousand Frenchmen had a part in managing local aff irs. Yet even here we can trace the influence of tradition. In old France, so far as free institutions had extended, the principle that, though deliberation is for many, action is for one, had never been recognised, and much administrative work had been done by comparatively clumsy assemblies. The Constitution, as we have seen, assigned to local administrations much that we should term national business. But for this also there were precedents. The old provincial Estates had taken a large part in the assessment and collection of the royal taxes. The new provincial assemblies set up by Necker and Brienne had like functions. The assessment and collection of the taille within the parish had always been left to the inhabitants. It is true that the only argument in favour of such a system had disappeared with absolute monarchy. It is also true that industrious citizens could not afford the time demanded by the new self-administration, and that the new elective bodies came to be filled by professional politicians of the most dangerous kind. Here again the Assembly was biassed by its dread of reaction and its eagerness to disable the Crown and the fallen clergy and nobility. An Englishman may think it strange that legislators so partial to local self-government should have been uniformly hostile to voluntary association. But here the doctrine which the Assembly

210 The failure of the Constitution ensured.

derived from Rousseau, as Rousseau had derived it from Hobbes, blended with the tradition of despotic monarchy. Even a practical man like Mirabeau could say, “ Particular societies placed in the general society break the unity of its principles, and the equilibrium of its forces.” The number of rich and powerful, but obsolete and useless, corporations in the France of 1789 had contributed to ingrain this prejudice in those who deemed themselves lovers of liberty.

The French might rid themselves of their old institutions, but not of their national character, fashioned by ages of Catholic orthodoxy, absolute kingship, and administrative centralisation. That character was not in accord with the theories of the time or with the new Con­stitution. The dissolution of public order, the impoverishment of so many citizens, the schism in the Church, the restless intrigues of the emigrants, the distrust felt for the King, were more than enough to ruin a system so weak and ill-contrived. The Assembly itself supplied the only thing needed to ensure failure. On Robespierre’s motion it had decreed that its members should be incapable of sitting in the next legislature. All the dear-bought experience of the last two years was thus wantonly cast away, and France was again entrusted to novices in government. The Constitution of 1791 was overthrown within a twelvemonth.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY.

The acceptance of the Constitution by the King was welcomed by contemporary France as the term of the Revolution, rather than as an epoch in it. The vast majority of Frenchmen both desired to end the Revolution and took it for granted that the Constitution would end it. All that the men of 1789 had fought for was won; the grievances of the ancien regime were removed, and the Constitution secured to France a modified form of that monarchical government to which the majority were sincerely attached. Men were tired both of the drudgery and of the excitement of politics, and desired to return to their civil occupations. Nothing was further from the heart of France than the deposition of Louis or the declaration of a guerre a outramce against Europe.

It is necessary to enquire how it came about that, in spite of the wishes of the majority, both these misfortunes occurred. Not least among the causes was the composition of the new Assembly, in which the extremists managed to secure an influence totally out of proportion to their numbers. The Jacobin Club, the only powerful political organisation in France, with headquarters in Paris and numerous affiliated branches, had been for many months battling for this end; and its elaborate organisation and the fear inspired by its violence enabled it to exercise an unforeseen and disastrous influence on the course of the elections; but long before this it had been at work in the Constituent Assembly, and had craftily forced through that body measures calcu­lated to secure for it the mastery in the Legislative. The imposition on all electors of the civic oath had the effect of disfranchising a great number of the more respectable voters; for in the civic was comprised the ecclesiastical oath, which no devout Catholic could accept. If thousands were disfranchised by this measure, millions were kept away from the polls by the wanton and deliberate complication of the electoral machinery, which was all a part of the Jacobin plan. Added to the fact that a certain distaste for politics had already come over men, this over-elaboration of the electoral arrangements kept all busy men—in

other words, all respectable men—away from the ballot, and handed it over to idlers and vagabonds.

The legal means of influencing the elections being thus exhausted, the Jacobins did not hesitate to exercise illegal influences; and violence and terrorism were let loose upon all moderate citizens. Possessed of the only political organisation in Prance, they were resolved to keep their monopoly; and the word was given from Paris for an attack on all constitutional associations, both there and in the provinces. The Reunion des Amis de la Constitution Monarchique, of which Malouet was the guiding spirit, and which had been formed with the avowed and perfectly legitimate object of counteracting the influence of the Jacobin Club, was forcibly broken up by order of the latter; and similar violence was employed against all such institutions throughout the kingdom. Not only this, but on the opening of the polls France was subjected to a systematic Jacquerie; and domiciliary visits, dis­armament of “ aristocrats,'" violence, and murder, were the weapons employed to keep—not the nobles and priests—but the respectable bourgeois from registering their votes. Sifted by the restrictive decrees of the Constituent Assembly, barred from the polls by the excessive elaboration of the elections, the remnant of the moderate vote was thus driven away by sheer violence.

It was not only on the electors that pernicious influences had been at work, but also on the candidates for election. France had, politically speaking, fallen into a state of apathy ; the majority of those leisured classes from which the ranks of politicians are naturally recruited had emigrated; and the middle classes who remained had not, speaking generally, the time, the money, or the taste for politics; while members of the Constituent Assembly were excluded from the Legis­lative by the decree of May 16, 1791. The better class of citizens were thus trebly deterred from becoming candidates for the Legislative Assembly. The government consequently passed in the pel >u on which we are entering into the hands of a new type of politician—men with ambition but without experience, and with little or no stake in the country. Most of the members elected were, as one would expect under such conditions, barristers or journalists, most of them quite young, and few of any mark or recognised worth.

It is strong testimony to the real feeling of the country that, for all their activity, the Jacobins yet found themselves in a minority when, on October 1, the Legislative Assembly met. It was at .first impossible to tell how parties in the new Assembly would arrange themselves; but, of the 745 deputies, while 136 only were enrolled members of the Jacobin Club, 264 were on the books of the Feuillants. These numbers, it is true, did not accurately indicate the strength of parties, for many who were not Jacobins sat and voted with the Left of the Assembly, while not a few of the Constitutionalists on the Right tended to drift into

the Centre, where sat some 400 deputies professing no fixed political opinions.

From the outset the dividing line between the two extreme parties was definite. The Right (or Feuillants) was loosely united in favour of constitutional government, though not of the present Constitution with­out amendment; it was in fact on the question of how the Constitution should be amended that the party split up into hopeless divisions. Nor had they any single leader within the walls of the Assembly to heal these divisions: Ramond, Hua, Jaucourt, Gouvion, Daverhoult, Vaublanc, Pastoret, Mathieu Dumas, and Bigot de Preameneu, all sat on the Right, and all were men of courage and distinction : and yet the Right was not led by any of them, but by Bamave, Duport, and the Lameths from the Feuillants’ Club—led that is from without.

The Left, who desired the total overthrow of the Constitution and the continuance of the Revolution, was in the meantime united in its policy of destruction. For the present there was no distinction between the Jacobins proper and the Brissotin Jacobins, who were afterwards to split off and form the “Gironde.” For the time being the Left was simply Jacobin ; and it was not till the early months of 1792, when the question of the war came to the front, that the cleavage between the Brissotins and the “ Enrages ” became apparent.

In the Legislative, the Brissotins far outnumbered their colleagues; and very few notable Enrages sat in the Assembly. Of the latter the most prominent were Couthon, an eloquent barrister, who gradually identified himself with the most violent section of the party and became eventually the most faithful satellite of Robespierre, Thuriot, also a barrister and the mouthpiece in the Assembly of Danton, and Chabot, an unfrocked Capuchin. With them sat Bazire, another barrister, and Merlin of Thionville, a man who was afterwards to make his mark in the Convention. But the majority of those who were eventually to lead the Jacobins had no seats in the Legislative; Danton, Robespierre, Marat, to name only the three most prominent, were all excluded; and the leadership of the Left thus fell into the hands of the Brissotins, of whom at that time the most notable were, in the Assembly itself, Brissot, and outside it Madame Roland and Sieyes. Brissot is an extreme example of the type of frothy mediocrity into whose hands the government of France was now to fall. The son of a pastrycook at Chartres, he had adopted journalism as a profession. Having been unsuccessful in a candidature for the States General he was all the more eager to grasp at power on his election to the Legislative ; and he was able to use the specious and subterranean knowledge of European politics, which he had picked up during an exile in England, and during his editorship of the Courrier de VEurope, to pose as a great authority on foreign affairs. Thoroughly insincere and self-seeking, he desired the overthrow of the King, not as a matter of principle but as

a step to power for himself, and the outbreak of war simply as a means to that end. Brissot being chiefly occupied with foreign affairs, it was Madame Roland and Sieyes who directed the internal policy of the party. Ruled by spite, vanity, and love of power, Madame Roland associated herself with the extremists—with Danton and Robespierre, be it observed, as well as with Brissot and Sieyes, purely for the gratification of those passions : she had set her heart on the downfall of the throne, not so much from any political conviction as from the desire to gratify her feminine hatred for Marie-Antoinette, against whom she believed herself to have a personal grudge. It was probably due more to her evil influence than to any other cause that the party, instead of devoting itself to internal legislation, now embarked on a further crusade against the monarchy. Her colleague, the Abbe Sieyes, was also firmly deter­mined on the overthrow of the existing order of things, with which, as it was not of his own designing, he was thoroughly discontented. He seems to have been convinced that such an overthrow was bound to create an opportunity for a man of his genius to dictate a new constitution to Prance. But there were a number of members of the Brissotin party who quickly outshone the regular leaders. Chief among these was Vergniaud, the greatest orator produced by the Revolution; inferior only to him were Guadet and Gensonne, All these were deputies of the Gironde, and the fact that the name Girondins came to replace that of Brissotins is a proof of the prominence of this section of the party. Amongst the Brissotins sat also men so conspicuous as Isnard, Condorcet, Fauchet, and Valaze.

Between these two opposing parties lay the Centre, in which sat an actual numerical majority of the members. To the youth and inexperience which characterised the whole Assembly was here added an absence of definite po icy which made the Centre open to every kind of persuasion or compulsion; and on it the Jacobins brought all their sinister influence to bear.

Their first step in this direction was to persuade the Assembly to open its galleries to the public, and their next to fill them with a noisy mob of their own supporters, drawn easily enough from the slums which surrounded the Tuileries. Terrorised within the Assembly, hustled and insulted at its doors, even the more courageous members of the Right lost heart; and the Centre, at no time courageous, very soon ceesed to be able to identify itself with any Moderate measure. It was bad enough when the votes were counted by show of hands; but when the Jacobins had persuaded the Assembly to adopt the “ appel nominal,” and each deputy had to declare his vote aloud, the ordeal became altogether too great for the members of the Centre; and after a time a large number simply abstained from voting out of sheer terror. This appel nominal was indeed a powerful factor in the history of the Legislative, making a difference of about 100 votes on a division. Proof of this may be found

in the result of the elections to the Presidential chair, which continued to be decided by show of hands. The fact that as late as July 23,1792, the name of a Moderate (Laffon de Ladebat) was carried is a proof that at heart the Assembly remained Moderate to the end.

Such were the phenomena of the Legislative Assembly. It now becomes necessary to pass in review the other members of the body politic; and first the Court. The King and Queen had accepted the Constitution with reluctance. The loss of prerogative was probably welcome to Louis, relieving him as it did of much of the labour and responsibility that was so distasteful to him; but the Civil Con­stitution of the clergy, to which he had been obliged to swear as well as to the Constitution of 1791, had for the first time, but finally, alienated him from the Revolution; while in the Queen’s eyes the altered position of the throne under the new regime was an intolerable degra­dation. The Court therefore accepted the Constitution in the hope and belief that it would soon become unworkable.

It is plain that there was much in common between the attitude of the Court and that of the Feuillants. Both desired the amendment of the Constitution, and both the maintenance of the monarchy. But unfortunately the King could not bring himself to cooperate with the FeuiUcmts. He reproached them, and more especially he reproached Lafayette, who must now be regarded as a Feuilltmt, with the authorship of the present situation. Louis, seldom able to confide in anyone, was incapable of making use of men in whom he did not confide. He now probably distrusted the Feuillants more than the Jacobins, for while he considered the former to be traitorous friends, the enmity of the latter was at least open; and, as in his opinion the Jacobins were all corruptible, they were more to be despised than feared. The Court was thus cut off from the one party that could have helped it; nor was it able to avail itself of the only feasible plan of action. The one preliminary to all schemes for the security and rehabilitation of the monarchy was still the withdrawal of the King and Queen from Paris. Time after time in 1792 Louis’ wisest counsellors implored him to take this step, but were unable to prevail upon him. Reluctance to risk another such fiasco as the flight to Varennes was not indeed unnatural, but none the less it was most disastrous. The Court had fallen back on the expedient of a peaceful intervention of the Powers; and for that purpose Marie-Antoinette was urging the Emperor to summon a great Congress, and back it with a display of force. War between the Powers and France she neither desired nor contemplated; while to Leopold and to Europe both war and Congress seemed useless, and even harmful, so long as the King and Queen were prisoners in Paris.

The misfortune was that by entering into negotiations with foreign Powers, even although he contemplated nothing more than an armed

demonstration, Louis could easily be painted by unscrupulous politicians who desired his downfall as plotting for the restoration of the ancien rigitne and as calling in the armed forces of Europe against his own people. On neither of these charges was he guilty, yet it was easy thus to mistranslate his most impolitic attitude. And these were the two very things which would rouse all the real soul of France to resistance; Frenchmen would never give up their new-found liberties, nor would they ever suffer the invasion of their country, whereas they had no idea of fighting for the downfall of the monarchy, the thought of which was actually distasteful to them, or even for the maintenance of the Constitution of 1791, for which no one greatly cared.

The private advisers of the Court at this time were Bamave, Malouet, Dupont of Nemours, and Mallet du Pan; but to none of them was extended the complete confidence which might have rendered him really serviceable. And, if he would not trust his confidential advisers, still less would the King repose confidence in the Ministers, who indeed were little worthy of it. Delessart, the Minister of the Interior, was a well- intentioned, mediocre person, much hampered by ill-health; Tarbe, the Finance Minister, Duportail, the War Minister, and Duport-du-Tertre, the Minister of Justice, were all absolute nonentities. Montmorin, who continued temporarily at the Foreign Office, was a man of some distinction; and when he resigned, November 27, 1791, the King lost the last of the old Court party; but even Montmorin had never enjoyed his master’s complete confidence, and it was this feeling, combined with the fact that the King “ would never answer letters,” that drove him from office. Before his resignation, however, the Ministry had been considerably strengthened by the accession of Bertrand de Mole ville to the Admiralty. Bertrand had been Intendant of Britanny, and brought to his department much of the administrative ability with which so many of the Intendants were endowed: he also brought to the King a perfectly loyal and devoted attachment, and, so far as this can be said of anyone, he enjoyed his master’s confidence. The fact that the King and Queen were sorry when he took office because they esteemed him, illus­trates both the despairing attitude of the Court, and the unfortunate position in which Ministers were placed by the Constitution. But Bertrand’s capacity was that of an intriguer rather than a statesman; and he must share with the King the responsibility for refusing to cooperate with the Feuillants, and for thus abandoning the last chance of preserving the monarchy.

After this preliminary survey of the state of affairs at the com­mencement of the period, we are in a better position to understand the motives and import of the initial measures of the Legislative Assembly. The opening sittings were naturally devoted to matters of procedure and etiquette, but soon the Assembly found itself obliged to consider two administrative questions of great urgency. The crisis in the Island of San

i789-9i]    San Domingo.—Avignon.

217

Domingo first engaged its attention. The decree of liberation (May, 1791) had been followed in September by another, which seemed to threaten revocation, and was the signal for a fresh outbreak of hostilities in the island; and the whites had been attacked with great ferocity and determination. It was obviously the duty of the government to secure safety of life and property by sending a sufficient body of troops. The Ministry would gladly have done so, but was too feeble to take so bold a step in face of the opposition of the Brissotins, who had fostered the rebellion and desired its continuance as a weapon against the executive. The crisis in San Domingo was not without effect at home, for France was dependent on the plantations for sugar, coffee, and cotton. The dearth of these commodities created the first cry for the regulation by government of the prices of necessaries which was soon to become important. Much of the time of the Assembly during its first stage was employed in wrangling over the policy to be adopted in the unhappy island, while the reign of terror and massacre was permitted to continue unchecked.

The other seat of trouble was Avignon. This city and the dependent territory of the Venaissin had, since the fourteenth century, been subject to the Popes. The mild government of their distant ruler had given the inhabitants little cause for grievance, but the agitation of 1789 had spread into this enclave. In March, 1789, a food riot had occasioned the establishment of a garde bourgeoises and the fever which spread through France after August 4 occasioned several risings in the later months of 1789, and a “French party” began to manifest activity. In February, 1790, the time-honoured consular government had been overthrown; and in April a new municipal government was formally established, and maintained itself in power in spite of the opposition of the Pope. In June, owing to the manoeuvres of the French party, civil strife broke out; and the National Guard of the neighbouring town of Orange intervened. On June 12 the citizens assembled and passed a resolution declaring the union of their country to France, which was communicated to the Constituent Assembly. The influence of Mirabeau was exerted to prevent the recognition of this illegal act; and the question remained long n suspense, while the condition of the city and county grew constantly worse. In April, 1791, an armed force set out from Avignon and laid siege to Carpentras, but was repulsed by the garrison. The Constituent Assembly thereupon sent a Committee to Avignon, which reported in favour of union, and on September 13 the union of Avignon and the Venaissin to France was decreed; but con­siderable delay ensued before the arrival of armed forces.

Meanwhile, the army of bandits which had gathered on the pretext of supporting the union of Avignon with France had seized the papal castle, a fortress perched on a rock above the Rhone, from which they were able to dominate the entire town, and had proceeded to

218                           Decrees against dmigr^s and priests.       [1791

establish a reign of plunder and anarchy. But the Moderates of Avignon were no cowards, and resisted their oppressors; and when Lescuyer, one of the leaders of the anarchical party, began to plunder the Mont-de- Ptete, they fell upon him and killed him. Determined to avenge their leader and to conceal all trace of their crime before the arrival of the government troops which were daily expected, the bandits, headed by a fierce desperado called Jourdan, descended on the city, and, arresting many of the respectable citizens as “ suspects,” thrust them into prison and there massacred them, to the number of 110, in cold blood. This atrocious deed took place on October 16 and 17, but it was not till November 9 that government troops entered the unhappy city, which during the interval had been at the mercy of Jourdan and his satellites. Under the protection of the troops the moderate reaction, so long stifled, at once broke out; Jourdan narrowly escaped with his life, and was sent for trial to Paris, where his experience in murder found scope in the following September. Two thousand of the bandits were driven out of Avignon, and the old municipality was reinstated. The question of sending troops to Avignon was much discussed, in the Assembly during October; and that body must share with the Ministry the blame of the unpardonable delay in their despatch both before and after the massacres, by which the lives and properties of respectable citizens were placed at the mercy of a gang of murderers. No better proof is needed of the incapacity of the government than the apathy and dilatoriness displayed in these two cases of Avignon and San Domingo.

Having disposed of these matters the Assembly might have been expected to turn its attention to the work of internal legislation. But, with an absolutely cynical indifference to the necessity for such work, it turned aside to decree a series of penal measures against the bmgrks and the pretres non assermentes. Of these measures those directed against the bnigris, although they at the same time contravened a provision of the “rights of man,” and also disregarded the political amnesty decreed by the Constituent, had certainly some justification. It is true that the emigres were not sufficiently numerous to carry out the threats of which they were so prodigal. It is also true that their attitude as advocates of the ancien regime was bitterly resented both by the King of Prance, who wrote repeatedly to his brothers remonstrating with them for their extravagant pretensions, and also by the Emperor Leopold, who regarded their policy as likely to frustrate the efforts which the Powers were making for the help of Louis. And it is absurd to suppose that any serious politician can really have regarded the bnigris as a menace to France. In number a paltry 4000, their organisation was honey­combed with intrigue, and they attained no cohesion before the outbreak of war. At the same time their fulminations were extremely irritating, and would probably have provoked reprisals from any other Power similarly situated. The idea of reprisals was not indeed a new one; and

in attacking the imigres the Legislative was only following the example set by the Constituent. The question was raised on October 20, and on November 9 a decree was passed appointing January 1 as the date before which the emigres must return to France, and condemning to death all the Princes and officials who did not then return, as well as all who “took part in seditious meetings.” The real object of this decree was to keep the Emigres out of France, for they were the most valuable asset the revolutionaries possessed; and it was of the utmost importance to them that the efforts of the King and the Emperor to dissociate them­selves from the bnigres should not succeed. The decree of November 9 was admirably calculated to have this effect. Louis was a humane man with very strong domestic affections, and it was in the highest degree unlikely that he would sanction a measure which was equivalent to a death sentence on his brothers; but if he placed his veto upon it he laid himself open to the accusation of participating in the designs of the emigres for the restoration of the ancien regime and for the initiation of violent royalist reaction. And this is exactly what happened, for on November 12 he vetoed the decree, and in doing so started on the inclined plane of unpopularity which had been prepared for him.

The action of the King in vetoing this and subsequent decrees against the emigres was impolitic if natural. His relations never showed any consideration for him, and by their extravagant pretensions had done much to jeopardise his throne and life; they were, in fact, as he knew, his most dangerous enemies, perfectly callous to his dreadful position, and, indeed, making capital out of it. Had Louis been wise he would have paid these men back in their own coin ; and it was sheer folly to sacrifice his slender remnant of popularity to a sentimental scruple.

It now only required energy and rapidity of action to foist the character of traitor on the King. With this object there was passed on November 29 a second decree, directed this time at a still more vulnerable part in his armour—at the non-juring priests. By its provisions all priests who did not take the oath within a week were to be removed from their benefices by the Directories of their respective Departments, and their stipends to be confiscated for the Treasury. In their desire to provoke the King to a second veto, the revolutionaries had thus passed a measure, which was not only barbarous and unwarranted to a far greater degree than its forerunner, but was impolitic also, because it ran counter to the religious feelings of the peasantry of France. It touched the King, however, at his most tender point. He was already conscience- stricken at his share in the Civil Constitution, and on December 19 he placed his veto on the decree. He thus did exactly what his enemies had expected and desired.

Meanwhile, on November 29, a matter of even more serious moment had come up for decision. So long as France was at peace it would be

impossible to accuse the King of assisting a foreign invasion; France must therefore go to war. Here, in a nutshell, we have the foreign policy of Brissot. It was by his influence that a decree was carried authorising the King to demand the disbandment of the emigres by the Elector of Trier, to fix the amount of compensation for the dispossessed Princes, to rearrange the diplomatic corps, and directing him to mass troops on the frontier to support his demands. Such a decree would practically commit the country to war; and the wisest of the King’s private advisers implored him not to consent to it. Unfortunately circumstances had combined to unite, although from very different motives, a majority of all parties in favour of war. Brissot, as we know, advocated war as the simplest means of overthrowing the King; but there was a party which desired it from the very opposite reason— for the rehabilitation of the monarchy. Of this party the guiding spirit was Lafayette, who, having resigned the command of the National Guard (October 8), and having been defeated for the post of Mayor by Petion (November 14), had been appointed at the end of December to the command of the Army of the Centre. He was determined to use his position to effect the rehabilitation of the monarchy under his own protection by means of a brief and glorious war. Lafayette’s opinion had the greatest weight with the Moderates in the Assembly; and so it came about that, when he declared for war, the decree of November 29 was carried with practical unanimity. One party alone shared the anxiety of the Court to avoid hostilities—the extreme Jacobins; because they feared that a war, if successful, would only strengthen the executive. It was then that the cleavage between them and the Brissotins began to show itself. The Court, however, in view of the practical unanimity of the Assembly, decided that it was useless to resist; and the first steps on the road to war were taken. Duportail, who was pledged to peace, thereupon resigned, and was replaced at the War Office by Narbonne. By December 14 Louis was able to announce to the Assembly that the decree had been executed, and an army of 150,000 men ordered to the frontiers. It was with feelings of despair that the King and Queen found themselves thus drifting into war: the monarchy was now in their opinion manifestly doomed. War having once broken out, Louis would be in the impossible position of a King conducting a campaign in which he himself was forced to sympathise with the enemies of his country, for with the policy of a restoration by the help of Lafayette and Narbonne he would have nothing to do.

Louis, Comte de Narbonne, was a man of brilliant but somewhat unsteady talents. Almost certainly a grandson of Louis XV, he was by accident of birth and almost of necessity an adventurer; so at least he seems to have struck contemporaries. It was by the influence of Lafayette, Talleyrand, and Madame de Stael that he entered the Ministry; and the policy which he introduced may be regarded as their attempt

to end the Revolution. The plan comprised the amendment and strengthening of the Constitution, and this of necessity involved some rehabilitation of the Royal prerogative; it was to be effected by means of a European war, which could easily be provoked by an attack on Clement Wenceslas, the Elector of Trier, and through him on the Empire. Diplomacy and their own interests would hold back the other Powers, Prussia in particular. Louis XVI, under Lafayette’s guidance, would lead his army to victory, and in a short time the new regime would be established amidst a blaze of military glory, a fair share of which would in the nature of things accrue to the victorious general and the successful war minister. It was an attractive scheme; and, as Sorel has well pointed out, it was in its essentials the very policy which triumphed in 1799 and again in 1814; but the time was not yet.

Narbonne’s policy threw him into alliance with the Brissotins. They welcomed him as a fomenter of war, and used him as such only to throw him over by converting the war, which he aimed at the Elector of Trier and the Empire alone, into a crusade against Europe; so that the monarchy was ultimately felled by the very weapon that was to have restored it. His schemes also brought him into opposition to Bertrand and the majority of his colleagues; and to his haughtiness and inability to combine with them may be traced the ruin of the Feuillant Ministry and with it that of Narbonne himself.

On his entry into the Ministry his energies were at once directed to the acceleration of the warlike preparations. He demanded a grant of 20,000,000 livres and started in the middle of December on a personal inspection of the army.

Meanwhile the Assembly continued its legislation against the emigres. On January 1, 1792, the Princes and Calonne were “ decreed accused ” of high treason; and on February 9 a decree was passed con­fiscating all the property of the emigres. This last was in the main a financial expedient, for by this time the position of the Treasury was exceedingly critical. Taxes had almost ceased to be paid: there had been a deficit in the revenue for the four months ending November 30, amounting to a quarter of the estimated income; assignats had de­preciated at least 40 per cent.; yet here was the War Minister demanding a grant of 20,000,000 livres in specie: the confiscation of the goods of the emigres, which handed over to the government property of considerably greater value than the confiscated Mens du clerge, was thus a most welcome windfall. The objcct of the measure was no doubt largely fiscal; but it was also a reply to the announcement by the Emperor that he would support the Elector of Trier, which had been communicated to the Assembly on the previous day. On January 25 an imperious note was addressed to the Emperor, demanding an explanation of his attitude. On March 1 Kaunitz’ reply was read: it contained an

attack on the Jacobins and was, in fact, an insolent interference in the internal affairs of France. The task of reading the note fell to Delessart. He had always been an advocate of peace, and it was said that he read it with undue emphasis. This fanned the suspicion that the Court or the Ministry had prompted it; and from that moment the outcry against the Ministry came to a head.

Meanwhile within that body the original dissensions had been widening. Bertrand stood aloof from the other Ministers as an out-and-out King’s man; directing the affairs of his department with consistent ability, adopting a brusque and haughty attitude towards the Assembly, and devoting his spare time to widespread if somewhat ineffective bribery. He adopted the attitude of the Court with regard to the war, and opposed it with all the means in his power. Of the other Ministers, Delessart and Tarbe desired the rehabilitation of the monarchy and the amendment of the Constitution, but above all desired to avoid war. The same desire in a less degree governed Duport-du-Tertre, the Garde des sceaux, and Cahier de Gerville, who had succeeded Delessart as Minister of the Interior, when Delessart replaced Montmorin at the Foreign Office (November 30). Duport and Cahier represented the views of Bamave and the Lameths, and were the orthodox Feuillants of the Ministry. Narbonne, as we have seen, desired the same object, but proposed to adopt totally different methods; for, while the Feuillants proper, reverting to the plans of Mirabeau, advocated the removal of the Court to some provincial town and the dissolution of the Assembly by means of agitation in the Departments, Narbonne and his friends did not scruple to make use of the majority in the Assembly to bring on the war by which they hoped to restore the prestige of the monarchy.

But the escape of the King from Paris was an item in Narbonne’s plan, as it was and had been in every plan of the friends of the monarchy, before or after. The idea was that the royal family should escape in Madame de Stael’s carriage and take refuge in Lafayette’s camp, when the general would at once take steps to restore the monarchy as the centre of the military pride of France. But the whole scheme was rash and ill-judged. Narbonne’s colleagues opposed it, while the Queen merely laughed at it. Exasperated by this failure, Lafayette now returned to Paris determined to purge the Ministry of the Feuillants; and on March 3 he informed the Ministers that Narbonne could no longer serve with Bertrand. But if Narbonne and Lafayette were determined to get rid of the Feuillants, the Feuillants were no less determined to get rid of Narbonne, and they had the advantage of possessing the ear of the King. Narbonne now made a deliberate attempt to use military influence to gain his own political ends. He published in the press letters to himself from the three commanders-in-chief at the front, Lafayette, Rochambeau, and Luckner, in which they deplored the prospect of his resignation. The only effect of this indiscretion was to provoke the

King to dismiss its author; and on March 10 Narbonne was superseded by the Chevalier de Grave.

It was a most unfortunate moment for a ministerial crisis. The course of events during the early days of March seemed to betoken a change in the attitude of some of the Powers : Spain and Prussia seemed to be falling away from Austria, and on March 9 came the bewildering and wholly unexpected news of the Emperor Leopold’s death. The maintenance of peace now seemed certain and the funds rose 16 per cent.; but this prospect only roused Brissot and the war party, who saw the cup slipping from their lips, to fresh paroxysms of warlike fury. On the 10th Brissot and Vergniaud fell furiously upon Delessart, ac­cusing him of treasonable relations with Austria. On the same day his impeachment was decreed by a huge majority; and that very night he was arrested and sent to Orleans. Narbonne’s dismissal was now condemned in the Assembly as an act of treachery on the part of the Court. The regrets of the Assembly were voted, and in face of the outcry against them the other Ministers resigned (March 10-20).

The crisis which had thus arisen placed the Court in a lamentable dilemma. The Feuillants, so far from profiting by the dismissal of their colleague, had fallen with him; so that, while the Court was in violent opposition to both Lafayette and the Jacobins, all hope of effective support from the Feuillants was removed. The Palace was for the moment unprotected, pending the installation of the Garde Constitution- nelle, which did not take place till March 16. The National Guard favoured Lafayette, and the armed mob was whole-hearted for the Jacobins; Vergniaud in his speech of the 16th against Delessart had breathed ill-veiled threats against the Queen herself. It is not to be wondered at that the King now “behaved like a man preparing for death.” On March 24 he decided to summon a Ministry from among the Brissotins. The motives which impelled him to this step have often been discussed. It is probable that he was influenced solely by the terror which the situation inspired, deserted as he was by everyone and with the terrible threats of Vergniaud ringing in his ears. It is possible, however, that he was influenced by some of his private advisers who were advocates of the English Constitution, or that he yielded to the dictation of a Central Committee of Twelve, which had been appointed by the Assembly to guide matters during the ministerial crisis. De Grave, who, though he had been appointed by Delessart, was closely connected with the Brissotins, remained at the War Office. Duranton became Garde des sceauoc, Claviere took the Finances, Roland, who was entirely in the hands of his wife, the Interior, Dumouriez the Foreign Office, and Lacoste, a nominee of Dumouriez, the Admiralty. The new combination was wholly Jacobin in tone. Had he chosen Robespierre and Danton, the King could not have chosen (with the one exception of Dumouriez) men more hostile to himself or more anxious for his

downfall. Of the new ministers Roland was a vain and narrow-minded pedant, who was constantly boasting of his own virtue and courage. He was ill-equipped for his important office and brought to it the quali­ties of a clerk rather than a statesman ; and the chief importance of his appointment was the power which it gave to his wife. Claviere had been a prntege of Mirabeau and to him belonged the doubtful honour of having invented assignats. But by far the most important member of the ministry was Dumouriez. The exclusion of members of the Assembly from office tended to throw the portfolios into the hands of clever adventurers: thus from the adventurer Narbonne the leadership of the Cabinet passed to the adventurer Dumouriez.

Charles-Fran^ois Dumouriez was bom in 1739 and had served in the Seven Years’ War. After this he had entered the service of Choiseul and had taken part in various secret missions, in the course of which he visited many European countries and obtained an extensive personal knowledge of the lower channels of diplomacy. Passing under the influence of Favier, he had next found congenial employment in the secret diplomacy of Louis XV. His intrigues in Poland in 1771 and 1772 led to a two years’ incarceration in the Bastille. On his release he had become Commandant at Cherbourg. Though fifty years of age when the Revolution broke out, he was young enough in spirit to welcome it as a field for his versatile talents and to greet it as the opening of his career. In 1790 he was sent on a mission to Belgium. It was there that his restless ingenuity seized on the idea of uniting that country to France, which now became the basis of his ministerial policy. His wide if not exalted experience, his keen political vision, his marvellous genius for expedients, and his natural talent for intrigue, marked him out—especially in his own eyes—as the man to guide France in the impending crisis. But he lacked statesmanship and character, and above all that rare quality by which statesmen gauge the drift of popular feeling. He had determined upon war; it was as necessary for his career as it had been for Narbonne’s; but, like Narbonne, he did not contemplate a war with Europe ; on the contrary he intended to isolate Austria by winning over England, Prussia, and the States of the Empire, to the side of France. It is impossible not to admire the penetrating vision, the clear-cut plans, and the acuteness and energy with which he set about his task. War, however, as he planned it, was a political expedient, by no means a crusade; and it was a crusade upon which France was now embarking. Dumouriez’ ingenuity was at fault when he found himself playing with living chessmen; for now, convinced that they were confronted with a great conspiracy for the reestablishment of the ancien regime—the bnigris had taken care to leave no doubt of this and the Brissotins had encouraged the idea—the people of France rose as no other European nation had ever before risen, and upset the designs of their enemies together with the calculations of the Minister.

But in truth neither King, Ministers, nor Assembly had much option in the matter of peace and war after the decree of January 25. A few acrimonious notes between the two governments, a great debate in the Assembly, and war was finally declared on April 20.

We must now leave the administration and the Assembly to survey the internal affairs of the kingdom. The disturbances at Avignon, which have already been noticed, were only an extreme example of what was taking place in many other parts of France. Discontent and reaction in the provinces were fomented by three principal causes. Firstly, the continued depreciation of the assignats and the disap­pearance of specie had dislocated all trade, and had roused a great outcry against “usurers,” as those merchants were termed who refused to receive payment in paper. Secondly, the want of bread, and, above all, the fear of approaching want, had made the poorer classes nervous and excitable; and in spite of the abundance of work and the high rate of wages, in some towns every market-day was the occasion of a bread riot. It was in such a riot on March 3 that Simoneau, the Mayor of ^tampes, lost his life in consequence of his courageous refusal to grant the tariff of fixed prices demanded by the rioters. Thirdly, the persecution of the non-juring priests added to these economic causes of disturbance the even more dangerous element of religious dissension.

In Paris also the signs of anarchy were on the increase ; and the composition of the various bodies, which were responsible for the administration of the city, encouraged rather than restrained the forces of disorder. The Commune, whose functions had not been interfered with by the Constitution, continued to superintend the food supply of Paris, and had now the additional duty of negotiating the sale of Church property within the limits of the capital. In November a considerable change was effected in its personnel. Bailly having resigned the office of Mayor, a contest for that post took place between Lafayette and Petion, resulting on November 14 in the election of the latter. Two points concerning this election are remarkable—first, that only 10,300 electors recorded their votes ; secondly, that the Court, still cherishing their pique against Lafayette, supported the Jacobin candidate. Petion, who now became the most prominent man in Paris, was both stupid and malicious; and in the elevated position he now occupied his stupidity was as dangerous as his malice. He was another specimen of the Brissotin type, vain and “virtuous,” the vanity obvious, but the “ virtue ” questionable. No more undesirable head could have been found for the municipality, and to his ineptitude and malevolence may be traced many of the troubles of the summer of 1792. In January, when one-half of the Commune had to be renewed, the democratisation of its officials was completed by the election of Manuel, a furious Jacobin, to the position of Procureur General Syndic, and of Danton to that of Procureur Substitut. At the same time Sergent and Panis,

226

The regiment of Chateau- Vieux.

two of the most desperate characters in Paris, obtained seats; and on March 10, by the opening of its galleries to the public, the Commune came directly under the influence of the mob. It is plain that it was impossible to rely on a body such as this, working under such con­ditions, for the maintenance of order.

But, if the attitude of the Commune was increasingly favourable to disorder, that of the departmental authority must be reckoned as wholly and sincerely on the side of order. The Department of the Seine was organised in the same way as the other Departments of France; its Conseil General numbered 36 members, but they only sat during one month of the year, and the real work was done by a committee of eight, known as the Directoire. of the Department, presided over by the Due de La Rochefoucauld. Nominally the Department was the highest authority in Paris; it even had supervisory functions over the Commune itself; but these functions were so ill-defined, and the means of exercising them so inadequate, that the Directoire, though governed by the best inten­tions, was practically powerless.

Such being the condition of the bodies to whom the government of Paris was entrusted, it is not surprising that anarchy and mob-rule began to lift their heads. The outcry against usurers and accapareurs —the name applied to any who laid up a store of bread or other neces­saries—was made the excuse for arming the proletariate; and during November and December many thousands of pikes were manufactured and served out to the lower classes. The wearing of the red cap of Liberty, a custom the origin of which is somewhat obscure, became so popular also that Dumouriez thought fit to don this head-gear in the Jacobin Club a few days after his entry into the Ministry. But the culminating sign of the trend towards lawlessness was the fite held on April 15 in honour of the convicts of the Swiss regiment de Chateau- Vieux. These men, it will be remembered, had been sent to the galleys for insubordination. The Swiss government, on being consulted as to whether or no they should be included in the general amnesty of the Constitution, begged that the convicts might not be liberated; and, on December 22, 1791, the Assembly had actually refused to extend any pardon to them. It is a striking indication of the increase in the forces of anarchy, which marked the early months of 1792, that the very men whose guilt was acknowledged by the Assembly in December were awarded a public reception in the following April. It was Collot d’Herbois, a retired actor, to whose histrionic taste the absurd theatrical staging of the fite appealed, who took up the cause of the Swiss, personally conducted them to Paris, and introduced them to the Assembly (April 12). Not content with the admission of the Swiss to the honours of the Seance, which was the greatest compliment the Assembly could bestow, their patrons proceeded to organise a public fete in their honour. The Commune, guided by Potion, sanctioned the plan; and the opposition

Dumouriez in power.

227

of the Department was overcome by the dedication of the fete to Liberty. Thus on April 15 was celebrated, in honour of these liberated convicts, the first of the many revolutionary fetes. An attempt was made by the Feuillants' club to organise an opposition fete, dedicated to la Loi, in honour of the heroic Mayor of I^tampes. Although strenu­ously opposed by Robespierre, it was decreed on May 6 and took place on June 1. But the Feuillants did not command the rascaldom of Paris; the idea had lost its novelty, and the Fete de la Loi was a dismal failure.

Meanwhile divisions in the Brissotin Ministry had become apparent. Dumouriez, whose masterful spirit dominated it, was not a Brissotin at all; nor had he the slightest desire to establish that party in power at the expense of the King. He was, in fact, only content to sit in the same Cabinet with his colleagues because they favoured his war policy. To them, however, this policy was merely a means of overthrowing the King; and now, in the month of May, with a view to this overthrow they endeavoured to increase Louis’ unpopularity by provoking him to further vetoes. In the first place they redoubled their blows at the pretres non assermentes. Secondly, on May 29, almost before it had been installed, they proposed the abolition of the King’s constitutional guard ; and thirdly, on June 4, Servan, who had succeeded de Grave as War Minister on May 9, proposed the formation of a camp of 20,000 federes beneath the walls of Paris, ostensibly to train these men for active service, but in reality as a support for insurrection and a standing threat to the Moderates of the city.

It was characteristic of Louis’ unselfish but stupid nature that of these proposals he accepted that which was most directly dangerous to himself—the abolition of the body-guard—and placed his veto on the other two: upon the legislation against the priests, because it was a matter of conscience, and upon the decree for the camp, because of a great petition of 8000 citizens protesting against it. On this a ministerial crisis immediately arose; Roland, acting under the influence of his wife, presumed to lecture the King ; and Dumouriez, who was not in sympathy with his colleagues, was glad enough to advise Louis to dismiss them (June 12), and to entrust him with the reconstruction of the Ministry. This rebuff to their vanity was more than the Brissotins could bear, and from the moment of their dismissal they plotted immediate insurrection.

The King was now in the hands of Dumouriez, who moved to the War Office. The Minister, to whom the vetoed decrees were in nowise .distasteful provided they seemed likely to further his own schemes, now desired his Majesty, in return for his services during the crisis, to withdraw the vetoes. He afterwards, in his Memoires, asserted that Louis had promised to do so and then went back on his word ; this was no doubt false. Dumouriez probably expected to persuade the King of

the necessity of sanctioning the decrees ; and it was the disappointment of this expectation that led him to resign on June 15, when he took over the command of the Army of the North. A new Ministry took office drawn from among the friends of Lafayette; none of them, with the possible exception of Terrier de Monciel, Minister of the Interior, being of any note or capacity.

Up to the fall of their Ministry the Brissotins had only vaguely thought of insurrection. They now threw themselves into it as heartily as the most violent of their Jacobin colleagues. Already in the early days of June a knot of conspirators had begun to meet; but, insurrec­tion being still a somewhat uncertain business even in Paris, the more prominent politicians abstained from direct participation. Danton, it is true, seems to have been consulted on every point, but the real work of organisation was done by Santerre, Saint-Huruge (expert in insur­rections), Alexandre, Fournier (afterwards notorious as the butcher of Versailles), Rossignol, Legendre, and Lazowski, a Polish refugee. Assured of the cooperation of the Brissotins, the insurrectionaries now applied to the Commune for leave for an armed deputation to plant a “ mai” in the Tuileries Gardens on the 20th. This request placed Petion in a dilemma; as a politician he favoured the insurrection, but its success being doubtful he was unwilling to compromise himself in his capacity as Mayor by any appearance of supporting it; he therefore absented himself from the meeting of the Conseil General of the Commune, which, in reply to the deputation, pointed out the illegality of armed pro­cessions. The Directoire of the Department, which, as we have seen, was a superior authority to the Commune, now intervened with energetic exhortations to the latter to see to the preservation of order, but both the Assembly and the Commune ignored this interference. In spite of much wavering and vacillation on the part of the time-serving Mayor, the preparations for the procession were proceeded with, and on the morning of the appointed day two great crowds were organised, one on the Place de la Bastille and one on the Place de la Salpetriere, which united under the leadership of Santerre, and, arriving at the manege at about 1.30 p.m., presented their demand for admittance.

Meanwhile the Assembly was debating on the attitude it should adopt. Vergniaud, while deprecating the introduction of armed petitions, maintained that it was too late to stop this one. While the debate was in progress the petitioners were clamouring at the doors of the Assembly; and, after a long wait, during which the mai (a large poplar) was incongruously planted in the adjoining garden of the Capuchins, they were at length admitted to the Assembly, where their petition was read, and through which they slowly filed.

On emerging from the Assembly the crowd was introduced by the organisers of. the revolt into the garden of the Tuileries, probably with the idea of attacking the palace on that its most vulnerable side; but

the presence of ten battalions of National Guards lining the garden terrace decided the ringleaders on an alteration of their plan of attack, and they led the crowd round the palace by way of the quays and through the Guichet de Marigny into the Place du Carrousel, where the artillery of the battalion Val-de-Grace, which had marched with the insurgents, had been left in the morning. The square, which was not very large and was much encumbered with buildings, was very soon blocked with people, but there was no spontaneous attempt to break into the palace: at no time indeed during the day did the crowd betray any .consciousness of the purpose for which it had been brought to the Tuileries. The crush, however, soon became unbearable, and the ringleaders used it as a pretext for demanding entrance to the court-yard of the palace through the Porte Royal, against which the crowd was now pressing. For a time the gendarmerie declined to consider this request, but they seem to have been without definite orders; and Ramainvilliers, the commander, was paralysed by the presence in the palace of municipal authorities, who went about in their official garb, lecturing the soldiers and giving contradictory instructions. The camonniers of the battalion Val-de-Grace, instructed probably by the promoters of the insurrection, now brought forward their artillery; and, in face of this display of force, the gates were thrown open, and the crowd rushed into the Tuileries. The King, surrounded by a few faithful attendants and personal friends, met the intruders in the CEil-de-Boeuf.

Confronted by a most grave and terrible ordeal, Louis behaved with the utmost courage and sangfroid. Withdrawing into an embrasure, he bore for some hours the insults and threats of his tormentors with admir­able coolness and phlegm; twice he invited one of his protectors to feel whether his heart was not beating calmly; and, although he consented to place a red cap on his head, to drink the health of the nation, and to wave a sword round his head, he betrayed no weakness in the matter of the vetoes and made no promises to the crowd.

After this state of affairs had lasted a considerable time with no further result, it began to occur to the authorities that the insurrection was hanging fire, and that if, as now seemed likely, it was to end in failure, they had better pose as the champions of order. The first to arrive were some of the deputies, including Vergniaud and Isnard; but their efforts to persuade the mob to leave the CEil-de-Boeuf were un­availing. About 6 p.m. Petion, who had given no sign since 11 a.m., forced his way into the King’s presence, and at length, though not without great difficulty, persuaded the rioters to withdraw; so that at about 8 p.m. the King was able to leave the hall and rejoin the Queen, who had been undergoing similar treatment in another apartment. Thus ended the insurrection of June 20. That it had been deliberately planned there can be no doubt; its direct object had been to terrorise the King into the withdrawal of the vetoes; but its promoters must also

have contemplated the possibility of his assassination. Neither of these oojects had been gained; the King had been cool enough to refrain from any promises about the vetoes, and had been saved by his own calmness and the fidelity of his few protectors from the danger of assassination. Yet the events of the day had not been without profit for the insur- rectionaries. The violation of the Assembly and the Tuileries had been effected ; and time and further organisation would accomplish their ends.' From this date the eyes of all parties were opened to the realities of the situation; and the ensuing fifty days were given up to preparations on both sides for the final struggle.

On June 22 the King made a dignified protest to the Assembly, and on the following day a proclamation to his people. The result was a strong reaction in his favour. Addresses of sympathy poured in from the Provinces. Some of the Sections of Paris dissociated themselves from the insurrectionaries. In the Commune itself men complained of the conduct of the Mayor. Finally, on July 1, a great petition, backed by nearly 20,000 signatures, condemning the attitude of the Commune and the behaviour of the Commandant General of the National Guard, was pre­sented to the King. In addition to this general expression of sympathy, definite aid seemed likely to come from two quarters. The Directors of the Department, the ambiguity of whose position had alone prevented them from averting the catastrophe, now set themselves to stave off a second crisis. They summoned Ramainvilliers to explain his inaction, instituted an enquiry into the events of June 20, and approached Petion with a view to the appointment of a new Commandant General. The enquiry was prolonged until July 7 and resulted in the suspension by the Department of Petion and Manuel. It so happened that July 7 had been marked by a melodramatic scene of pacification in the Assembly. Upon the suggestion of Lamourette all the deputies had effusively fraternised; and, to seal the reconciliation, the King had been sent for and received with cries of “ Vive le Roi.’’’¹ The atmosphere being charged with pacification, the King decided to refer the Department’s decree of suspension to the Assembly. When they ungraciously declined to have anything to do with the matter, Louis was obliged to confirm the decree, for to have vetoed it would have been to encourage a repetition of June 20. The decree, however, was quashed by the Assembly on July 13; and Petion and Manuel were reinstated. This was a signal defeat, for the Department, whose members now one by one resigned: and from this time forward it ceased to be a force in Paris.

Meanwhile, however, succour seemed to be forthcoming from another source. Even before June 20 Lafayette had written protesting against the violence of the Jacobins and demanding the closing of their club. The news of the insurrection therefore came as a personal affront; and he determined to go to Paris and use his influence to destroy the faction. Everything seemed to point to the success of the enterprise. Lafayette

came with the prestige of a famous soldier; he was still dear to the National Guard which controlled Paris; the Ministers were his nominees; the majority in the Assembly was in sympathy with him, and, what was even more important, was ready to give expression to that sympathy by its votes. He was open, however, to the reproach of deserting his army in the presence of the enemy. This accusation, though not literally true, as his army was not in touch with the Austrians, was made the most of by his enemies; and the shafts of Guadet’s caustic eloquence were quickly directed against this weak point in his armour, when on June 28 the general presented himself at the bar. But Lafayette seems to have had a curious power of inspiring the timid Moderates with courage ; and Guadet’s proposals, that the War Minister be asked if he had permitted the general to leave his army and that the Committee of Twelve report on the right of generals to petition, were rejected by 339 votes to 234. More fatal than the charge of desertion was the fact that his assistance was utterly distasteful to those to whom it was proffered. It is not indeed extraordinary that the Court looked askance on Lafayette, since many of their troubles could be traced to him; but it was more than unfortunate that at this critical juncture the King and Queen were unable to swallow their resentment and make use, if it were only for a time, of the one man who might have saved them. But it was not in their nature to do so. Lafayette was received with chilly politeness; and it was the Queen herself who warned Petion of a review of National Guards, at which the general hoped to win over the armed force for a blow at the Jacobins. Thus the contemplated coup d’etat was wrecked by those whom it had been destined to benefit; no advantage had been taken of the Moderates’ victory in the Assembly, and the Court had rejected the advances of the general. With his departure on June 30, and the revelation of his impotence, the forces of anarchy and disorder emerged from their dens. The tide turned finally in favour of the insurrection- aries.

The arrival in Paris of the armed bands, which had been summoned ostensibly to celebrate the feast of the Federation on July 14, was a considerable reinforcement for the conspirators. The Constitutional Guard having been disbanded and the loyalty of the National Guard being at best doubtful, it was obvious that the attitude of these “federes ” would be of the first importance. Every effort was therefore made by the insurrectionaries, and especially by Barbarous and the Bolands, to introduce a large body of desperadoes into the city, and by the Minister of the Interior to prevent their introduction. Terrier de Monciel on June 30 ordered the Departments to keep their federes at home ; and in reply the Assembly offered free quarters in Paris from July 14 to 18, after which they were to be camped at Soissons. In spite of this, the firm attitude of the Minister so far had effect and so far succeeded that by July 14, the date of the Federation, not more than

3000fidiris had arrived; and it must be remembered that many of them were genuine volunteers, and that between July 14 and 30 more than 5000 left for the front. Unfortunately, their departure merely weeded out all the respectable men, and left none but those who had never intended to go to the front at all, but had come to Paris for the chance of excitement, adventure, and plunder. Of these ^s&iAo-federes the most violent contingent was that sent from Marseilles, and it was the delay in its arrival that postponed the crisis. Meanwhile a fresh “ Directory of Insurrection ” was meeting, drawn mainly from the subordinate ranks of the Jacobins. It included Carra, Santerre, Antoine, Lazowski, Fournier, Guillaume, and Westermann; but both its actions and the whole organi­sation of insurrection were controlled by Danton from his position as Procureur Substitut of the Commune.

Danton’s antecedents had given little indication of the part he was now to play: he was a fairly successful barrister of thirty when the Revolution began. Bom in 1759 of bourgeois parents at Arcis-sur- Aube, his first political enterprises had been somewhat inglorious; but the outbreak of war seems to have tapped latent springs, which now, on his reentry into politics, supplied an undercurrent of true patriotism beneath the eddies of ambition and intrigue. Danton’s character, for all its blemishes, rings true: the blemishes were conspicuous, for he was wholly unartificial. Cruel, regardless of human life, unscrupulous, probably corrupt, he was yet a true patriot; and it was patriotism, even more than the ambition natural to a man so conscious of his power, that threw him into politics at this juncture. While he was passionately patriotic he was also intensely practical; and to a large extent this accounts for, though it does not condone, the unscrupulous means which he used to gain his ends. To him the end was everything, the means nothing; but the end was not self-seeking' or cowardly, however base the means.

With Danton’s approval, and under the guidance of the Directory of Insurrection, several abortive outbreaks now occurred. The first of these took place so early as June 25; another premature attempt on July 21 had been stopped by the warnings of Petion ; a banquet given to the federes on July 26 had been a critical moment. Finally, on the 30th, the Marseillais marched into Paris. It had been intended to lead them straight against the Tuileries ; but exaggerated rumours of serious preparations at the palace cooled the ardour of the insurrectionaries, and once more the catastrophe was postponed.

Two great instruments were in fact in course of preparation to ensure the success of the outbreak. The meetings of the Sections were being organised to counterfeit the voice of the people; and the National Guard was being further democratised. The forty-eight Sections or primary Assemblies of the electors of Paris, which should have been entirely dissolved after the completion of their electoral functions, had

quite illegally resumed their sittings. Their very illegality was indeed of a certain advantage to them, for it gave them, as unofficial bodies, the right to petition, which was withheld from legally constituted authorities, and of this they made free use; but it also put them at a disadvantage; for when on July 11 the country, on the motion of Herault, was declared in danger, all legally constituted bodies began ipso facto to sit “ en permanence,” but the Sections having no legal status could not do so. This leave to sit “ en permanence ” was greatly coveted, as it would leave the Sections at the mercy of the Enragis. At the regular meetings the Moderates in many Sections still possessed a majority and were able to carry Moderate resolutions, and to present positively reactionary petitions, some even refusing to open their galleries to the public. But when on July 25 the Assembly decreed that the Sections were to sit “ en permanence,” the Moderates could be worn down by sheer physical fatigue. When the respectable members were compelled by exhaustion to retire, incendiary motions could be carried by a handful of ruffians; and a small but energetic minority could represent its will as that of a whole Section. The result of the decree of July 25 was the announcement three days later by Carra that forty-seven of the forty-eight Sections favoured the deposition of the King.

Equally important were the changes now introduced in the organisa­tion of the National Guard. The insurrectionaries were determined that the disloyalty of that body should no longer be ambiguous. A decree was therefore carried on August 1, on the motion of Carnot, opening its ranks to passive as well as to active citizens, and sanctioning the temporary arming of recruits with pikes. At the same time the etat-major was reorganised on democratic lines; officers were forbidden to give any orders save those sanctioned by the Commune; the artillery was organised by Sections and the special “compagnie: (Tilite'" suppressed; while, by order of the Mayor, the duty of guarding the Tuileries was handed over to an agglomeration of drafts from all battalions with the result that all spnsp of unity and mutual confidence were destroyed. Finally a number of federes were introduced into the ranks. There could be little doubt after these changes which way the National Guard would lean when the rising broke out.

Meanwhile Paris was in a state of ferment. On the decree of “Patrie en danger ” (passed July 11, carried out July 22 and 23), a black flag was hoisted over the Hotel de Ville, and recruiting bureaux were established at every street comer, while two corteges of officials patrolled the town at regular intervals to the sound of the trumpet. Every day saw the arrival of fresh bands of federes and the departure of more volunteers for the front. On July 30 the formidable and long-expected Marseillais marched in through the Porte St Antoine amidst great enthusiasm. To Paris thus excited by marchings and recruitings there

came on August 3 a manifesto from the Duke of Brunswick. This astoundingly impolitic document, while disclaiming all desire of conquest and all intention of meddling in the internal affairs of France, and calling on the sane majority of the French people to declare themselves against the “odious schemes of their oppressors,” threatened with all “ the rigour of the laws of war ” those who dared to defend themselves against the invading troops, and the citizens and town of Paris in the event of a further violation of the Tuileries with an “ exemplary and never-to-be-forgotten vengeance,” by “giving up the town to military execution and total subversion, and the guilty rebels to the death they had deserved.” The only effect of Brunswick’s indiscreet language was to divert to the side of the insurgents many hundreds of moderate men. The very next day there was a further alarm; and, though it came to nothing, everyone in Paris now knew that the great insurrection would not be long delayed.

Both sides were now making their final preparations. On July 25 the terrace of the FeuiUants, which gave access to the gardens of the Tuileries, was placed under the control of the Assembly. The Directory of Insurrection, feeling itself too small and unauthoritative to carry out its programme, in face of the rather half-hearted attitude of the Commune and the Assembly—for the Brissotins were by this time inclined to side with the King, if only he would restore their Ministry—determined (August 9) that the Sections, which had already (July 17) a central “ Bureau de Correspondance ” sitting at the Hotel de Ville, should elect a body of commissioners “ to consider the measures to be taken in the existing circumstances.” This body would have, what no private body of conspirators could have, the semblance of having been freely chosen by the citizens of Paris in their primary Assemblies. As a matter of fact, the Sections being en permanence, it was arranged for the elections to take place at night after all moderate members had retired; indeed, many of the Section halls were found deserted save by a few ruffians slumbering on the benches. Twenty at least of the Sections declined to elect; others elected but gave their representatives no mandate; in the Arsenal Section only six members were found, who promptly elected three of their number; but, in spite of irregularities and obstacles, Commissioners began to arrive at the Hotel de Ville at about 1 a.m. (August 10); and, when Danton looked in at 3 o’clock, he found nineteen Sections represented, Huguenin in the chair, and Tallien secretary. Amongst the Commissioners were Panis, Sergent, Robert, Rossignol, Hubert, Marat, Simon, Lhuillier, and Leonard Bourdon. Robespierre, Fabre d’^glantine, and Billaud, were also elected, but with characteristic caution seem to have refrained from taking their seats till the insurrection was over. No reliance, however, can be placed on the lists of those present on this critical occasion, as they were drawn up on the following day, when the names of many who had not actually been

present were incorporated. Thus in the small hours of the morning of August 10 this sinister body installed itself under the same roof with the legal Commune, ready, should occasion arise, to usurp the authority of that body, and armed with the semblance of a popular mandate.

Meanwhile, with the slender forces at their disposal, the defenders of the Tuileries were making what preparations they could. Mandat, who, as Commandant General of the National Guard for the current month, was responsible for the protection of the palace, and the maintenance of order in the city, was an absolutely loyal and devoted man. It is difficult to estimate the forces under his command. In addition to the ordinary guard he had issued summonses to sixteen extra battalions (10,000 men); but very few responded, and little reliance could be placed on those who did. With them was a small force of mounted gendarmerie, but it was evident that the brunt of the defence would fall on the Swiss Guard. An attempt had been made (July 17) to disband that force, but the Ministers had managed to keep it at hand; and now on August 9, to the number of 950, it took up the defence of the Tuileries. The total force of the defenders was probably about 2500.

In his preparations Mandat had been much hampered by the duplicity of Petion. That functionary was ostensibly on the side of order; in his heart of hearts, however, he favoured the revolt. Thus it was by his directions that the Swiss were admitted through the barriers, but also by his order that they were supplied with only thirty rounds of ammunition per man, and the remainder of the garrison with only three. Hampered as he was, Mandat nevertheless made his dispositions with considerable skill, and issued his orders with clear determination. To prevent the junction of the crowds from St Antoine and St Marcel, he posted a guard on each of the bridges; and it was against these, especially against that which held the Pont Neuf, where the alarm-gun was stationed, that the first efforts of the insurrectionaries were directed. By means of orders extracted from the Commune, and aided by the disloyalty of the gunners, the bridges were at last secured and the alarm-gun was fired. But, in spite of this preliminary success, there were signs of some hitch in the insurrection. The results of the efforts made to gather a great crowd were disappointing. The tocsin which began to ring at about 12.45 on the morning of the 10th brought a few recruits and the alarm-gun a few more, not enough, however, to ensure success in a conflict with a man of Mandat’s determination. The leaders of the insurrection therefore decided to secure the person of the Commandant.

Mandat was at the Tuileries, where the apparent failure of the riot had, after 2.30 a.m., created a more hopeful feeling. At about 5 a.m. he received a summons—the second—from the Commune. At this time there was no information at the Tuileries as to the true state of affairs at the Hotel de Ville, where the Commune had become a mere tool in the hands of the Sectional Commissioners; yet Mandat

did not wish to leave his post. Roederer, however, who, with other officials of the Department and the Commune, was present in the palace, persuaded him that he was constitutionally bound to obey. The Com- mcmdant therefore reluctantly proceeded to the Hotel de Ville and presented himself before the Cornell General of the Commune. His examination before that body was neither long nor important; but, on emerging from the council-room, he was seized and hurried into the hall of the Sectional Commissioners, where began the real business for which he had been brought. Interrogated as to the garrison of the Tuileries, he courageously deceived the Commissioners as to its strength, and, on being invited to sign an order directing one-half of the defenders to withdraw, heroically declined. This was the signal for his arrest, and his arrest was the signal for the interference of the Commune. That body protested that the Commissioners were exceeding their powers; the Commissioners replied by voting the suspension of the Commune and proceeded to occupy the Council hall and to establish themselves—were they not the elect of the primary Assemblies?—as the Provisional Commune of Paris. The full import of this coup de main was at once seen. Mandat was ordered to the Abbaye prison, and on his way there was done to death on the stairs of the Hotel de Ville; and Petion, whose equivocal attitude was no longer sufficient, was, greatly to his own relief, placed in confinement. The conduct of the insurrection, and with it the future government of France, thus passed into the hands of the Sectional Commissioners

Meanwhile at the Tuileries the weakness of the defence, after Mandat’s departure, had been manifested by the very mixed reception given to the King, when he descended to the courts and the gardens to review the troops. It may have been this disaffection, combined with the appearance of the first rioters with twelve pieces of artillery on the Place du Carrousel, that convinced the King’s advisers that it would be best for him to proceed to the Assembly for protection ; or it may have been, as Roederer’s very frank narrative seems to indicate, the fear that the troops might make a stout resistance, and that, having driven off the rioters, they might attempt some coup on the Assembly. Louis at first hesitated, urging that he saw very few people in the Carrousel; but he had lost his military adviser, and ultimately the argument of the “ twelve cannon'’ persuaded him at about 8.30 a.m. to leave the Tuileries for the Assembly, accompanied by the Queen, the royal family, and a few attendants.

The retreat of the King was the signal for the desertion of the great majority of the National Guard; and the Swiss, finding that they were left alone to defend the Tuileries, abandoned the outer courts and with­drew into the palace itself. The mob was thus able to enter the Cour Royale, where it found the few remaining National Guards and the gendarmerie ready to fraternise with it. The Swiss, however, presented

a resolute front and resisted the blandishments of Westermann, who harangued them in their own tongue. Who fired the first shot was never known; if it came from the Swiss it must be remembered that they were being subjected to the greatest provocation. It was followed by a volley from the Swiss on the grand staircase and another from the first-floor windows. The crowd hastily retreated across the Carrousel and found shelter among the buildings that encumbered the square. An ineffective exchange of shots continued for about three-quarters of an hour. The Swiss then cleared the square by a sally and had almost obtained a comparatively bloodless victory over their cowardly opponents, when an order arrived from the King that they should cease firing and withdraw to their barracks.

It seems that Louis thought that he had, before he left the palace, given orders for the Swiss to withdraw; but when he heard the volleys he should have known that it was too late for them to obey; and his actual written order, coming when it did, was a piece of culpable folly and simply handed over the lives of his devoted body-guard to the mob. The Swiss withdrew in good order by way of the garden; and the rioters, though not without hesitation, took possession of the palace and put practically every living male found within it to the sword. The retreating Swiss were shot down as they crossed the garden, and the remnant, 200 or 250 men, obedient to a further order from the King, laid down their arms and were imprisoned in the Church of the Feuillants, where many of them were massacred on the following day. The loss on the popular side during the fighting has been estimated at 100 killed and 60 severely wounded. Of the defenders it may be said that practically no one was killed during the fighting. A few escaped by way of the Louvre and a tiny remnant of the Swiss survived; the rest perished after the order to withdraw.

The King meanwhile and the royal family had been lodged by the Assembly in a reporter’s box, where they actually remained from 10 a.m. on the 10th till 3 a.m. on the 11th, while the Assembly discussed their fate. In face of the ascendancy of the insurrectionary Commune, the Assembly was in a very cowed condition : only 284 members were present as against 630 two days previously. A deputation from the Commune, which practically ordered them to depose the King, was received with unctuous flattery. At 11 a.m. on the 10th, however, Vergniaud pro­pounded the Brissotin plan. He proposed that a “ Convention ” should be summoned to produce a new Constitution, that the King should be not deposed but suspended from his office, that the Civil List should be abolished, but that at the same time a gouverneur should be appointed for the Dauphin, and that the King should be lodged in the Luxembourg with an allowance for expenses. These proposals, which the Assembly accepted, show that the majority of the Brissotin party had been playing all along not for a Republic, but for a change of King which

should put the power in their hands by the reestablishment of a Brissotin Ministry. The next step therefore was to vote the recall of Roland, Claviere, and Servan, to whom were added Lebrun, a subordinate of Dumouriez, for Foreign Affairs, Monge for the Admiralty, and Danton, the organiser of the insurrection, for the Ministry of Justice. This “Provisional Executive Council” was to hold office until the Convention met.

But it soon became clear that these measures would not satisfy the Commune. It was this body that had borne the actual burden of the revolt; and it had no intention of relinquishing its newly-won powers or of countenancing any form of monarchy, the reestablishment of which would not only secure the Brissotins in power, but would bring retribution to the ringleaders of the revolt. The Commune therefore was doubly committed to the establishment of a Republic. It was not, however, supported in this by a majority of Frenchmen, not even by a majority of Parisians. Paris, the nation, the Assembly itself were all at heart monarchical. In Paris the very Sections, in spite of the domination of the faction, had some of them dared to protest against the attacks on the throne. To the strength of monarchical feeling throughout the country the pitition des vingt-mille is eloquent testimony; if 20,000 Frenchmen were ready to risk their necks, as they literally did, in the interests of the Constitution, it is only reasonable to believe that there was a vastly greater number who shared the views but not the courage of the signatories. Finally, the Assembly itself^ when protected by the prestige of Lafayette, had betrayed its monarchical leanings by refusing on August 8 to impeach the General for his support of the Monarchy in June.

The Commune would therefore have to fight hard to gain its ends. Two immediate dangers confronted it: the attitude of Lafayette, and that of the bourgeoisie of Paris. Once more, as after the insurrection of June 20, it seemed likely that Lafayette would become the arbiter of the situation; everything appeared to be in his favour; he was supported, as we have seen, by a majority in the Assembly; he was at Sedan, within a few days’ march of Paris; the Prussians were far away on the Moselle; the Departments were on his side, the National Guard in his favour; all seemed therefore to point to the success of a coup de main.

But Lafayette dreaded civil war, and was at any rate too good a patriot to resort to it in face of the enemy, nor was he inclined to repeat the experiment of a visit to Paris. He therefore determined to make himself the centre of the monarchical feeling which he knew to exist in the Provinces. With this object he summoned the Mayor of Sedan and other local magnates, and received from them assurances of support, readministered to his troops the oath of fidelity to the Constitution, and directed the other generals to do the same. The Commissioners,

sent by the Assembly to exact an oath of fidelity to the new government, were arrested (August 14) by the municipality of Sedan. But Lafayette took no further active steps to carry out his plan: his sensitiveness to the accusation of treachery rendered his actions half-hearted. The occasion, however, was one where hesitation was fatal. The Executive Council promptly superseded him; and the general decided that there was nothing for it but to cross the frontier. He fell into the hands of the Austrians and remained a prisoner till 1797.

The first and most pressing danger to the new order of things dis­appeared with the flight of Lafayette. It was clear that the Provinces, unorganised, bewildered, and unled, would not make open resistance. They still trusted the Assembly, and it was the knowledge of this that decided the Commune to retain that body while riding rough-shod over it. A message was now sent through the Departments to say that Louis XVI was overthrown, and that there was ho fear of treachery at home “because the Commune of Paris was watching over the Assembly.” All the departmental authorities who had shown signs of reaction were suspended by the Executive Council; and, the submission of the Provinces being thus assured, the Commune was able to turn its attention to the danger that threatened it from the bourgeoisie of Paris. On the 11th, the issue being no longer in doubt, Robespierre took his seat in that body; and it was he, Billaud-Varennes, and Marat (who, though not a member, was granted a special tribune and the right to take part in the debates), that guided the Commune in the ensuing struggle.

Maximilien Robespierre now steps to the front as a figure of first- rate importance. After his arrival in Paris as a deputy of the Third Estate, his energies had at first been chiefly confined to the Jacobin Club, where his long-winded and self-conscious oratory had a vogue for which it is difficult to account. His own self-denying ordinance kept him out of the Legislative Assembly, and left him free to devote his talent for intrigue to the overthrow of the existing order. The ascendancy of this narrow, fastidious, insignificant, provincial barrister is one of the most curious facts of the period, a problem beyond the power of historians to solve. That he was unconcerned for his own pocket, and therefore free to use his ingenuity for the furtherance of his political ambitions, is proved beyond all doubt; in a period so utterly corrupt this incorruptibility no doubt told heavily in his favour. Over and above this, in spite of his narrow ignorance, Robespierre had yet all the attributes necessary for posing as an intellectual arid literary genius: a refined appearance, a fastidiousness in dress uncommon in the circle in which he moved, an air of superior wisdom, and a command of language, which, because it was not eloquence, had all the more effect on audiences sated with rhodomontade and rhetoric. These advantages combined to give him that ascendancy over his blunt and brutal colleagues, which an appearance of refined taste, dialectical skill, and ingenuity, so often

attains over simpler and coarser natures. Thus, while amongst the Vergniauds and Condorcets of the Assembly Robespierre would have been a laughing-stock, at the Jacobin Club, especially after the ejection of Brissot (October, 1792), his intellectual equipment* slender as it was, combined with his frigid and austere pose, and a certain feline fascination, won for him an influence which gradually became absolute.

Robespierre and his allies, convinced that they were in a mino-ity, now determined to secure themselves in power by terrorising their opponents. On August 11 the signatories of the two famous petitions of huit-miUe and vingi-mille were excluded from the exercise of public functions. On the 12th reactionary journals were suppressed; and, by closing the barriers and tampering with private correspondence, the Commune created an atmosphere of uneasiness in the city. The question now arose, how far would the Assembly allow the Commune to go ? The majority of the deputies were not Republicans, nor were they on the side of disorder: most of them belonged to that very class at which the Commune was striking, and thus the contest of the Commune with the bourgeoisie resolved itself into a struggle with the Assembly.

But the Assembly was now but the shadow of its always shadowy self. Of its 745 members only about a third registered their votes, and it was by this time only too well accustomed to submit to the noisy dictation of galleries and deputations. The first struggle was over the custody of the King. The Commune was unwilling that any but itself should have the keeping of so valuable a hostage; and the Assembly on August 13 gave way, and handed over its prisoner to the Commune, by whom he was incarcerated in the Temple. After this first victory, the Commune looked round for some means of getting control of the lives of individuals. Events played into its hands. On August 11 the new police-law, long under consideration, had been passed by the Assembly. It handed over to the Commune the duty of “recherche des crimes contre la s&rete de Fetat” and authorised all active citizens to drag before the authorities persons suspected of such crimes. Thus the life of evexy individual in Paris was placed at the mercy of the Commune. The Assembly made haste to remedy the harm done by this ill-considered measure, by reviving the power of the “ Conseil du departement ”; but the furious outcry provoked by this step, and the appearance of Robespierre at the bar, overawed it into restricting the power of the revived Conseil to the assessment of taxes. The policing of Paris was thus secured to the Commune.

The next encroachment was upon the judicial authorities. Already the functions of juges de paix had been usurped by the Sectioned Assemblies under the supervision of a “ Comitt de surveillance ” of fifteen members of the Commune. Unlimited power of imprisonment had been accorded to certain Communal Commissioners, and a list of “ opponents of the Revolution ” had been handed to the tribunals. But this was not enough; and the Commune set itself to extort from the Assembly a

special extraordinary tribunal. On August 11a court-martial had been appointed to try the military prisoners of August 10; and the more important civil prisoners, including the ex-ministers, had been sent before the High Court of Orleans. At the dictation of the Commune the Assembly now abandoned the court-martial and ordered the election of new juries to try these cases in the criminal Courts. Robespierre upon this again appeared at the bar (August 15) and demanded a special tribunal, elected by the Sections, with unlimited power, from which there should be no appeal. The Assembly fought the matter point by point; but on the 17th, overpowered by the threats and persistence of the Commune, they were criminal enough and weak enough to decree the creation of a special tribunal.

The reason of all this revolutionary activity is not far to seek: the primary elections for the Convention, which the Assembly had decreed on August 10, were to commence on August 27, and the secondary on September 2. Aware that they were supported by but a small minority of the electors, the Commune employed these measures of terror simply to secure for themselves a majority at the polls; and by August 26 at any rate, not to suggest an earlier date, it had been decided that, to complete the Terror, a general massacre of the prisoners should take place to coincide with the opening of the secondary elections. Events on the frontiers played into the hands of the faction. On August 26, just at the critical moment when, on the eve of the primary elections, signs of a more determined resistance both from the Assembly itself and from some of the Sections were disclosing themselves, there arrived the news of the fall of the frontier town of Longwy. With the French armies intact this reverse was of trifling importance—so at any rate it was regarded by the generals at the front—but it was sufficient for the demagogues. On the 28th Danton, in the name of the Ministry, demanded permission for the Commune to subject the city to domiciliary visits, ostensibly in search for muskets, of which he alleged there were

80.000     in Paris, in reality to secure the arrest of all reactionaries. This was the crowning item in the great scheme for delivering over the Moderates of Paris to the faction. From the morning of the 28th to the evening of the 31st these visits were in progress; of the promised

80.000     muskets only 2000 were secured, but, in their real object, the arrest of Moderates, the result of the visits was all that could be desired; and by the evening of August 31 every prison was full to overflowing.

Meanwhile, however, people had begun to suspect ulterior motives in this revolutionary energy of the Commune; and some of the Sections petitioned against the continued usurpations of that body. The result was that on August 30, just when its plans were reaching consummation, the Commune found itself dissolved by decree of the Assembly. Set only on preserving for a few days its existence and that of its Comiti de Surveillance, which was superintending the actual preparations for

the massacres, the Commune went the length of restoring Petion to the chair ;■ and he now headed a deputation to the Assembly, where^: a long memoir prepared by Robespierre was read, enlarging on the services of the Commune. During the whole of the 31st the Assembly stood firm, but on September 1 Thuriot, prompted by Dan ton, persuaded it to reinstate the Commune.

The very next day was that on which the faction had decided to strike. It was hoped that the news of the fall of Verdun might arrive in time to serve as a pretext for the massacres; but it only reached Paris on September 4. The conspirators, therefore* had to. make the most of the investment of that town and the probability of its fall; and Manuel proposed that, in view of the military crisis* the tocsin should be rung, the alarm-gun fired, the “ginb-aW" sounded, and all able-bodied citizens convoked to the Champ-de-Mars. The Assembly took up the cry, Vergniaud delivering an eloquent speech, and Danton the most famous of all his fiery orations. Meanwhile the Comite de iSWweiZfowctf embarked upon the immediate preparations for the massacres. Coopting a number of kindred spirits, it first moved the arrest of Roland, Brissot, and thirty other Brissotins—a deliberate attempt, though it proved unsuccessful, to include the Brissotins in the massacres; next it sent emissaries to some of the more violent Sections to extort a demand for the destruction of the prisoners. In two Sections (Poissonniere and Luxembourg) this was successful. Thus, when, at 2 p.m., the tocsin began to ring and the populace to flock to the Champ-de-Mars, the bands of assassins already gathered by the Comite started on their mission.

The first victims were twenty-four priests who were awaiting exami­nation in the cells of the Mairie itself. These unfortunates were bundled into carriages and conducted towards the Abbaye. On the way their escort of federes tried to provoke the populace to attack them, and, when they refused, set upon the; victims themselves. On their arrival at the Abbaye the butchery was soon completed. The murderers now split up into detachments and distributed themselves among the various prisons. To give colour to the legend of “popular justice,” no doubt also to save any friends of the assassins, informal tribunals, on which the murderers themselves sat, were established: before these the miserable prisoners were dragged: all priests, royalists, and “aristocrats,” were condemned at once and thrust out of the Salle de Justice on to the pikes of the murderers in the courtyard without. That no attempt at any kind of justice was made by these self-constituted tribunals is proved by the fact that many of the victims were common criminals, whose very crimes one might have thought would have commended them to such judges; 43 were boys under eighteen, and at least 35 were women.

Amidst every circumstance of horror this carnage continued, with little interference from without, for four whole days. In Paris alone 1400 people perished. But the massacre was not confined to Paris ; on

the contrary, to extend it to the Provinces, where the danger of reaction was very threatening, was one of the first objects of its promoters. Many of the most important of the State prisoners were at Orleans; and on August 30 the Assembly, on the demand of the Communej had sent Fournier, an agent of the Comite de Surveillance, to fetch them-— 43 in number—to Paris. On September 3, seeing what would be the fate of the prisoners if they entered Paris, the Assembly ordered Fournier to take them to Saumur. He disobeyed and conducted them to Versailles, where he was met on September 9 by a detachment of the expert Paris murderers, who made short work of the prisoners.

This massacre had been devised as early as August 30, but it was not until September 3 that the idea of a general massacre throughout the Provinces was developed. On that day a circular was sent by the hands of Commissioners of the Commune to all the Departments, announcing the fact that a “portion of the fierce conspirators detained in the prisons had been put to death by the people,” and suggesting that the entire nation should hasten to adopt a measure so necessary for the public safety. Fortunately this incitement had but little effect; and the massacres at Lyons, Meaux, Rheims, Charleville, and Caen, were comparatively insignificant. This, however, in no way exonerates the authors of the atrocious manifesto. It has been suggested that the entire document was forged by Marat, who had long openly cried out for wholesale massacres; but there is nothing in the antecedents of Panis, Sergent, and the other members of the Comite de Surveillance, whose signatures were attached to it, to make it improbable that these signatures were genuine. The fact that the circular went out in the official covers of the Ministry of Justice has been used as an argument to prove that Danton and Fabre d’^glantine were privy to it, though it lacked their countersign and the ministerial stamp. The suspicion against them is indeed strong; and when we remember Danton’s attitude towards the Paris massacres, and the fact that he never denied, but rather took credit for, his share in both circular and massacres, it is difficult to acquit him.

So much for the circular; as to the responsibility for the Paris massacres the Comite de Surveillance must bear the direct and chief blame, but the Commune itself must have been aware of the acts of its committee. Entrusted as it was with the control of the armed force, and responsible, therefore, for the safe-keeping of the prisons, it could and should have ordered the National Guard to protect them; but the National Guard did nothing, and doubtless had its orders to do nothing. It could and should have thrown itself between the assassins and their victims ; on the contrary, such of its members as entered the prisons entered them to encourage the murderers. Petion, newly restored to power, was doubtless afraid for his own skin on account of his connexion with the Brissotins. On Thursday, the last day of the massacres, he

244

Responsibility of Danton and Roland.

[l792

actually went to the prison of La Force, was horrified, and remonstrated; but he regarded the ignoring of his remonstrances merely with mild surprise and went away. He certainly, however, went to Santerre and ordered him to use the National Guard; and on the whole, though his action was quite ineffective, he comes out of the matter better than the jther authorities.

As to the Assembly, it did little to stop the massacres; it had, it is true, half-heartedly tried to avert them, but had given way to the Commune on every point before they began; and, now that they were in progress, it was not till September 4 that it called (quite ineffectively) upon the Sections to take steps to ensure the security of life and property. It must not be forgotten, however, that the Brissotins, who after August 10 constituted the large majority of the Assembly, had themselves been threatened, and doubtless it was fear for their own lives that made them loth to interfere.

With regard to the Executive Council, Danton and Roland were the Ministers directly responsible for the security of prisoners. As to the former it is impossible to believe that he was ignorant of what was being prepared by his intimates of the Commune, and circumstantial evidence accumulates round him from every side. It was he who filled the prisbns, reinstated the Commune, ordered the tocsin to be rung. As Minister of Justice he was responsible for the life of each prisoner, and, himself the only truly strong man in Paris, he could have saved them. Yet his attitude was at best one of cynical indifference; and, if complete proof of his direct complicity in the massacres is still wanting, he is at least responsible for never having lifted a finger to stop them. Roland, the other responsible Minister, though his conduct was no whit more courageous, has at least this excuse, that his interference would almost certainly have been useless. This, however, scarcely justifies him in not interfering, and his talk of “ drawing a veil ” and of “ events perhaps necessary ” was as disgusting as it was cowardly; he had been directly threatened by Marat, and was doubtless afraid to move.

CHAPTER IX.

THE NATIONAL CONVENTION TO THE FALL OF THE

GIRONDE.

All eyes were now fixed on the approaching elections to the National Convention, which had been decreed by the Legislative Assembly on the morning of August 10,1792.

The fate of the Republican party was staked upon the result; if the true feeling of France were allowed expression at the polls, the ascendancy of the Commune and the demagogues would be at an end. The leaders of that party were fully alive to the danger; they laboured under no illusions as to the real mind of the people of France, and they set themselves, with the vigour and unscrupulousness of men who know that not only their careers but their lives are at stake, to muzzle the expres­sion of that mind. Above all it was necessary to prevent the Moderates from carrying the capital. To gag the whole country was a gigantic task; it would be attempted, but success was more than doubtful; in Paris, on the other hand, the demagogues had their chance. The city was already in a suitable state of paralysis; the forces of anarchy and terror were already at work; the Jacobin Club, the Commune, the armed bands, and the Radical press were so many instruments in the hands of the faction. If by their aid it could secure the return of a compact body of its adherents, it would be sure of the nucleus of a party in the Convention, and, if it could not hope for an actual majority there, it could make up for its numerical deficiency by the vigour of its actions; but, if Paris went Moderate, all was lost. Every nerve, therefore, was strained for a grand effort in that city.

The arrangements for the elections had been made by the Legislative Assembly. Manhood suffrage had been proposed, but not carried. The property qualification for electors indeed had been abolished, but at the same time the age limit (25 years), the disfranchisement of domestic servants, and the system of double voting, by primary and secondary elections, had been maintained. Under these provisions the primary elections took place in Paris between August 26 and September 1. There were in the capital and its environs some 200,000 voters; and it

was certain that, if a reasonable percentage of them were to register their votes, the days of the faction would be numbered. It was there­fore once more necessary to keep away from the polls as many of the respectable voters as possible. One can hardly help admiring the ingenuity and minute care for detail with which this disfranchisement was managed. The Sections had already claimed, and the Assembly weakly admitted the claim, that they should manage the details of the elections in their own way. Robespierre, making use of this concession, persuaded his own Section (des Piques), and, through it, the remainder of the Sections, to abolish the secrecy of the ballot and adopt the vote- a-haute-voix. In the excited and nervous condition of a city whose barriers were closed, and whose citizens were being subjected to domi­ciliary visits and other inquisitorial measures, it is difficult to over­estimate the effect of this innovation ; for each Section was easily filled with armed ruffians who would rage against every' Moderate vote; and it must be remembered that all Paris was by this time dimly conscious of the approach of some murderous crisis, and every man who gave a Moderate vote felt that he might next day be on the list of the proscribed. It is not, therefore, astonishing that the polls were sparsely attended by the respectable classes.

: In spite, however, of all the precautions adopted by the faction in the primary elections, it seems that they were by no means confident of the pure republicanism of the 900 secondary electors chosen. Robespierre had already caused it to be decreed that the voting at the secondary election should also be public, and that it should take place in the hall of the Jacobin Club, where the public galleries were gigantic and easily filled with a suitable mob, and where the very atmosphere would be favourable to the demagogues. Finally, lest in spite of all these precau­tions some undesirable names should creep in to mar the unity of the “ Paris Deputation,” the right of ostracism, in other words the right to revise the roll of the deputies elected,! was reserved to the primary assemblies, a provision which entirely contravened the principle of double election.

It was, as had been arranged, under the terrible shadow of the September massacres that the 900 secondary electors gathered, on September 2, in the Archiepiscopal Palace; and it was through an alley of corpses—the victims of the Chatelet prison—stacked upon the Pont-au-Change, that Robespierre led them to the Club in the Rue St Honors, and there proceeded to sift them like wheat, ejecting from the hqll all who had signed either of the two petitions (“ huit-mille ” and “ vmgt-mille ”), and all who “ had been members of anti-civic societies.” Murder without and unbridled proscription within soon reduced the remaining electors to a sufficiently plastic i condition; and on September 5 they elected Robespierre himself first deputy for Paris, and after him Danton, Collot d’Herbois, Manuel, and Billaud-Varennes, all men of

the most violent republicanism. One wonders how, in spite of all the precautions taken, any Moderates had managed to slip in ; perhaps only because even Paris in September, 1792, could not provide 900 ruffians “ au niveau de la Revolution ” as conceived by Robespierre' and his friends; yet both Kersaint and Priestley—men of pronounced Moderate opinions—were nominated; and it was only by dint of allowing public discussion of the merits of each candidate that Camille Desmoulins and Marat were preferred to them. The election of Marat, the instigator of the horrible outrages which were being perpetrated almost under the eyes of the electors, seemed to set a seal on the ignominy of the proceedings ; but an even greater depth of ignominy was reached in the election of Philip, Duke of Orleans. This miserable man owed his election to the good offices of Marat, to whom he had rendered financial assistance; and it is probable that the subtle ingenuity of Robespierre prompted him to agree to his inclusion, in order that, should the Republic collapse, as it seemed at the time likely that it would, the faction should not be without a candidate for the throne. As soon as the continuance of the Republic was assured, Orleans was cast aside like dirt. He was the last deputy elected for Paris, and it may here be noted that on September 15, by permission of the Commune, he changed his name to Philippe Egalite. The names of the 24 members of the Paris deputation were as follows:—Robespierre, Danton, Collot d’Herbois, Manuel, Billaud-Varennes, Camille Desmoulins, Marat, Lavicomterie, Legendre, Raffron du Trouillet, Panis, Sergent, Robert, Dusaulx, Frerbn, Beauvais de Preaux, Fabre d’Eglantine, Osselin, Augustin Robespierre (brother of Maximilien), David the painter, Boucher, Laignelot, Thomas, and Philip of Orleans. The majority of them were mere nominees of Robespierre; and the result of the election was as much a personal triumph for him as a political victory for the faction. From this time forward he must be reckoned as one of the most important powers in the Revolution.

It was not to be expected that the faction would sweep the board in the Provinces so easily as it had in Paris; yet in some places, in the great industrial centres especially, it was able by means of its local organisations to apply what may be called the Parisian methods. Although only in ten of the Departments was the vote-a-haute-voix imposed on the electors, in most places secondary electors with mandates in favour of the Monarchy or of the Constitution of 1791 were success­fully—though quite illegally—ostracised. A remarkable feature of the provincial elections was the dearth of respectable candidates, another proof that what the majority of the middle classes wanted was simply peace to enjoy the fruits of 1789. The consequence was that many obscure men were sent up to the Convention, as well as many professional politicians totally unknown to their constituents and elected only on newspaper reputations. But the number of votes recorded gives the best

indication of the character of the elections. Of the 7,590,000 primary electors in France, it is reckoned that not more than 630,000 registered their votes, while of the secondary electors 25 per cent, abstained. The conclusion is that the Convention was elected, the Republic proclaimed, the King executed, and the Terror established on the mandate of about 6 per cent, of the electors of France.

While these elections were in progress Paris had been given up to pillage; and stolen property to the amount of many millions had fallen into the hands of the Commune. On the 16th the Garde-Meuble was broken into and property to the value of 24,000,000 livres was stolen, including the Crown diamonds. The expiring Assembly meanwhile was concerned with financial affairs, and by decrees of September 5 and September 16 forbade the export of specie and plate, the fabrication of paper-money having been renewed on September 1. But now, in. view of the reactionary attitude of the Provinces, the failure of the Circular, the non-success of the faction at the polls, and the increasing courage of the Moderate Sections of Paris, the Assembly at last took heart and passed decrees restricting the powers of Commis­sioners of the Ministiy, and ordering the arrest of any persons posing as Commissioners of the Commune. Next, tardily enough it is true, an attempt was made. to restore order and security in the capital. On September 17 arbitrary arrests and violation of houses were forbidden, and the Commune was held responsible for the lives of prisoners. Finally, on the last day of its existence, the Legislative decreed that every citizen must be provided with a carte de civisme from his Section—a measure which, by driving strangers out of the city, at first worked for order, but was afterwards converted into a powerful weapon of terror. New municipal elections were also ordered. The Assembly took control of the tocsin and alarm-gun, and reserved to itself the exclusive right to employ all armed forces other than the National Guard—a blow specially directed at the federes from the Provinces, many of whom were still in Paris. After this tardy but vigorous effort for the restoration of order the Legislative dissolved itself, and on September 21 was replaced in the Manege by the National Convention, which had already held two preliminary sittings in the Tuileries.

Of the 782 members of the new Convention, 75 had sat in the Constituent and 183 in the Legislative. There were many lawyers and members of local administrations, some retired officers, and 48 of the Constitutional clergy. The electioneering campaign of the faction had so far failed that it was found to control no more than about 50 members, of whom the Paris deputation accounted for 24; while the Brissotins, or Girondins as they should now be called, mustered some 120 supporters, the remainder (i.e. the majority) of the deputies not being identified with either side. The Girondins, however, had so little desire to be considered Moderate, that they were unwilling at first to occupy

the benches upon which the Feuillants of the Legislative had sat, which, although always known as the “ Right,” were, after the changes made on December 27, 1791, actually on the left of the President’s chair; and it was only after considerable hesitation, and when the breach between themselves and the faction had widened, that they finally identified them­selves with the Right side of the House. Opposite to them, high upon the extreme “ Left,” sat the little knot of Enrages, the Mountain as it came to be called; while on the lower benches on the floor of the House, the Marais or Plain, sat the great mass of independent deputies. Amongst the Montagrtards, in addition to the Paris deputies, with whose names we are already familiar, sat many men who were afterwards to become famous, the two Prieurs, Carnot, Merlin of Thionville, Robert Lindet, Jean Bon-Saint-Andre, Philippeaux, Carrier, Fouche, Tallien, Le Bas, Saint-Just, Herault, Lacroix, Chabot, and Bazire. These men, afterwards to be so widely separated, were for the present united by the bond of joint responsibility for the dethronement of the King. They were Republicans, not so much from principle, as because a Republic, and a Republic controlled by themselves, was the only form of government in which their lives would be safe.

Amongst the Girondins sat nearly all the Brissotins of the Legislative ; Condorcet, Gensonne, Guadet, Brissot, Vergniaud, and Isnard being the most prominent. These men had before August 10 been divided on the question of a Republic. Vergniaud, Guadet, and Gensonne, in particular, had not desired the fall of the throne, and had in fact made secret advances to the Court after June 20; but there had always been among them a small band of determined Republicans centring in the salon of Madame Roland; and these were now recruited by the advent of a number of young and hot-headed deputies, the most con­spicuous of whom were Buzot, Louvet, Rebecqui, and Barbaroux.

The Plain, which constituted the large majority of the Convention, contained many notable men, Gregoire, Sieyes, Larevelliere-Lepeaux, Letoumeur, Treilhard, Camus, Merlin of Douai, Boissy d’Anglas, and Barras; worthy of special mention is Cambon, who for two years was to control the finances of Fiance; but the typical man of the Plain was Barere, who by his vivid imagination, fluent tongue, and constant readiness to speak, combined with his dexterity in concealing his motives, in choosing phrases of double meaning, and in explaining away his own words without apparent inconsistency, acquired a most sinister influence over his colleagues. Drawn for the most part from the lower middle and small professional classes, the men of the Plain were naturally inclined at first to look for their lead to the Girondins rather than to the Mountain, whose violence, and especially their participation in the recent atrocities, horrified them; Lanjuinais’ phrase, “ Quand je mis arrive a Paris fai fremi,” well expresses the attitude of the more respectable deputies of the Plain.

250 Struggle between the Gironde and the Mountain. [1792

Here, then, lay the Girondins’ chance; if' they could turn this anti-anarchical feeling against the faction, the future of France was in their hands.   ,       .

During the first days of the Convention nothing seemed more probable; the majority of the deputies leant by predilection towards the Gironde. The first President and all the Secretaries were Girondins; the Ministry, since Danton, having resigned on September 29 in order to take his seat in the Convention, had been replaced by Garat, was strongly Girondin, and was dominated by Roland, who, though obstinate and pedantic, was not without traces of that courage of which he con­tinually boasted. There were at least 5000 regular troops in Paris at the disposal of the government. A strong revulsion of feeling against the excesses of August and September was evident, not only in the Provinces but in the capital itself, where some even of the more revolutionary Sections petitioned against the continued tyranny of the illegal municipality. The cards therefore seemed to be all in the hands of the Gironde; the question was, would they have the courage to lead them P

The very first decree of the Convention showed that the Girondins had decided to disavow their monarchical leaning, and to outbid their Republican rivals in order to secure control of the government; for on September 21 all parties united in a decree abolishing the Monarchy in France.

The ground was now dear for the struggle of the Gironde against the Mountain and the Commune. The Gironde, who had prepared the Revolution, were not inclined to allow their rivals who had executed it to reap all the fruits. Their first blow was delivered through the medium of a report of the Minister of the Interior on the condition of France (August 23). Into this report Roland introduced covert allusions to the massacres and the evil influence of the Commune, even hinting that the attitude of Paris was becoming injurious to the Revolution. There followed eight days of personal recrimination, during which Robespierre was categorically accused by Rebecqui and Barbaroux of aspiring to a dictatorship—sufficient proof of the outspokenness of his opponents. After this, issue was joined on the question of the misdeeds of the ComiU de Surveillance of the Commune. So fierce was the outcry against this body, and so shaken were the Montagnards by the courage of their opponents, that the ConseU General of the Commune on September 29 was fain to cut its committee adrift, and even consented to allow the approaching elections for the renewal of half the members of the Commune itself to be ante-dated.

The Girondins now fell into the blunder, which was always to dog their footsteps, of sacrificing vigour of action to violence of invective. They seem to have taken fright at their own temerity, and, instead of breaking the Comite de Surveillance at once, contented themselves with

tamely demanding its accounts. Marat cleverly threw odium on Roland by suggesting that his accounts also might not be the worse for a little auditing; and the attack on the Committee died tamely away.

Very similar was the conduct of the Gironde in their treatment of another matter of importance which came up on September 24. On that day a letter from Roland announced a renewal of atrocities in Chalons-sur-Mame; this news provoked a succession of outspoken protests from Kersaint, Vergniaud, and Lanjuinais; but it was Buzot who proposed the formation of a Committee of Six to report on the condition of the country and the capital, to draw up a law against instigators of murder, and to propose steps for the provision of a Garde Departementale to protect the Convention. This Committee, reporting on October 8, recommended the summoning of 4470 guards from the Departments for the purpose indicated. The report was the object of a general attack in the Radical press, especially in the organs of Robespierre, Prudhomme, and Marat; it also provoked a great outcry in the Jacobin Club, and was instrumental in getting Brissot expelled—an incident which definitely marks the secession of the Girondins from the Jacobin party. Finally on October 19, the Sections, at the instigation of Chaumette, Vice-President of the Conseil General of the Commune, presented an insolent peti ' ion to the Assembly, denouncing the formation of the Garde as an insult to Paris. Gensonne replied in brave words that the Assembly could only receive orders from the people of France; but once more timidity of action followed on temerity of speech, and the Girondins themselves hastened to shelve the very measure which they had proposed with such parade of courage.

More successful was their struggle against the camp which had been established after August 10 in the northern suburbs of Paris. This camp had been designed, not only as a training ground for volunteers, but as a fortification for the defence of the capital, to which every patriot might contribute his labour. During the month of August it had been the fashion for men and women to go and dig on the ramparts, but in September the enthusiasm had died down; all the serious volunteers had gone to the front, so that the camp was no longer necessary ; and after Valmy the immediate need for fortifications had disappeared. But the camp was useful to the Commune; accordingly a daily wage was awarded to every idle rascal who would consent to make pretence of working with a spade, with the result that innumerable loafers both from Paris and from the neighbouring country flocked th ther; and the camp became a splendid recruiting-ground for the forces of disorder. The Convention now boldly demanded the imposition of piece-work, a system that strikes a loafer in his tenderest place; and when, after a long wrangle, this innovation was decreed, the camp was doomed, and on November 3 the works ceased.

But the greatest triumph of the Convention over the Commune was

in the elections for a new Mayor, which took place between October 4 and November 30. These votings are most interesting, both as the last victory of the Moderates before July, 1794, and also as a further proof of the utter indifference, or utter cowardice, of the voters of Paris and of the true numerical weakness of the faction. Of the 160,000 voters in the city not more than one-tenth was attracted to any one of the numerous elections which now took place. It is hardly possible that many of the absentees can have been men of extreme views; all such were carefully gathered to the polls, as the faction was now fighting with its back to the wall. Yet, not only was the faction consistently unsuccessful at each of the elections, but the sum-total of its poll never rose over 5000. After Petion had been elected and had refused, no less a person than d’Ormesson, an ex - Controleur-General of the ancien rigiine,y/as elected by a majority of some 500 over Lhuillier, the Jacobin candidate. When he also refused, Chambon, a physician of the Sal- petriere, a Moderate almost of the Bailly type, was chosen by 8358 votes to 3900. It was most unfortunate that the Moderates were unable to keep their poll up to this level in the elections to the Conseil General of the Commune, which commenced on December 2. It was the usual story; respectable men were too busy to spare the time for prolonged elections. On this occasion not one in twenty voters came to the poll, with the result that, although it had a Moderate Mayor, the new Commune was as much in the hands of the faction as the old. Twenty- eight only of the members of the old Commune were reelected, but these included all the ringleaders. Chaumette and Hubert, who had led the insurrectionary Commune after the translation of Robespierre and Billaud- Varennes to the Convention, were made respectively Procwreur and Procureur Substitut; the new blood was if possible more ruffianly than the old, and thus the renovation of the Commune brought no profit to the Moderates; rather, by legalising what had been illegal, it left them worse off than before.

Still, although there were plentiful signs of growing weakness in the Girondin party, it had managed to get through the first month with a fair degree of success. One very important access of strength it received in the shape of a new band of federes from Marseilles, who this time were to be on the side of order. On October 21 a deputation, introduced by Barbaroux, expressed the attachment of these Marseillais to the Gironde. But here again opportunities were not utilised; and instead of organising the new arrivals the Gironde allowed the Jacobins to tamper with them, and thus carelessly threw away what might have been a great access of strength.

Meanwhile, although their actions were vacillating, the oratorical courage of the Girondins seemed only to increase. The personal attacks on the formidable leaders of the Mountain grew daily more virulent, and culminated on October 29 in a great denunciation of Robespierre.

1792] Louvet’s accusation.— Weakness of the Gironde. 253

Louvet, the author of this attack, was a new acquisition to the party; he had entered the Convention as a novice to politics, and had allied himself with the Rolands. He now seized the opportunity of a report of the Minister of the Interior on “the state of the capital since August 10,” to bring grave and specific charges against Robespierre, reviving in his rhetorical attack all the accusations that had been brought against the demagogue by Rebecqui and Barbarous on Sep­tember 25. Louvet’s action, though not without courage, only served to display the inherent weakness of his party. The Girondins were without leaders and organisation, and the younger members of the party, being uncontrolled, continually broke away and ran riot. This was what now occurred. Louvet’s attack took his party by surprise, with the result that, instead of the charges being pressed home at once, five days were allowed for the preparation of the defence. In this interval Robespierre was able to mould in his own favour such public opinion as existed; and, when on November 5 he read his reply, the galleries were packed with his adherents and he had little difficulty in refuting Louvet’s charges. It was a serious reverse for the Gironde, and the first clear indication that the future was not theirs but the Mountain’s. They had shown their inability either to attack or to resist their opponents with anything save words; and it now only remained to be seen how far their opponents would be able to carry them whither they would not.

If we ask bow it was that the Girondins failed when all seemed so much in their favour, the answer is fourfold. In the first place they lacked moral force. They had played all along for their own hand. Posing -as men of principle they were in reality swayed only by overpowering ambition. Without any general conviction in favour of a Republic they had exposed the monarchy to attack, simply in order to recover power for themselves. To effect this selfish end, they had not scrupled to arouse anarchic forces which they both disliked and knew to be immoral. The violence of these forces had carried them beyond the limits of their original designs; and they were now to find that they must either march with their anarchical allies or surrender the government to them. They were in fact no longer able to control the forces which they had set in motion; moreover, by their employment of these forces they had violated their own political conscience and so undermined their political position.

In the second place the Girondins lacked cohesion, were indeed entirely without the organisation of a party. They had many promi­nent, even preeminent men, but no leader; and what the unconvinced Plain required was a definite lead. The eloquence of Vergniaud, the erudition of Condorcet, the biting sarcasms of Guadet, the cold irony of Gensonne, the reckless courage of Louvet, the complacent self-confidence of Brissot, and the shallow superiority of the Rolands, did not compensate for want of political capacity, not to say statesmanship; and time after

time in the autumn of 1792 these men foiled one another for want of proper discipline and control.

In the third place the Gironde had little popular support in the country, none at all in Paris. What the majority of Frenchmen desired was a return to moderation; and such a return was hardly to be expected from men so long identified with a policy of violence. Most men there­fore favoured neither party and were content to watch the internecine itrugglt with no more than the languid interest of spectators, rightly regarding the Girondins as even more responsible than the Montagnards for the overthrow of all that, politically speaking, they held most precious.

Lacking moral force, lacking leadership, and lacking popular support, the Girondins also lacked a common policy. Violence and anarchy having served their turn, they certainly now desired a return to order, to security for life and property, and to legal and civilised methods of government; but they had no common plan for translating these wishes into facts, and above all no determination to force through the necessary measures. We have seen how the Garde Departementale was decreed and the decree never carried out; how the fedkris, who had at first favoured the Gironde, were allowed to fall away and become the servants of the Montagnards; how the trial of the September criminals was constantly threatened and as constantly postponed; how men were denounced only to be exonerated, and accusations raised only to be dropped. We are now to see the Girondins vote the King’s death against their will, thereby alienpting for ever all moderate opinion both at home and abroad; and we shall watch them forge one by one the instruments by which they were themselves to fall, and by which their rivals were to be established in power.

With quick discernment the Mountain had seen that the question of the King’s life was the key to the position. There was no real urgency in the matter; but, rather than incur a suspicion of Royalism, every politician could be made to vote urgency. If the Gironde were brave enough, when the matter came up for discussion, to avow their real feelings and protect Louis, the Mountain would be able to attack them for Royalist leanings; if on the other hand they could frighten the Gironde into acquiescence, and so compel them to share the stigma of regicide, they would finally isolate their opponents from the support of moderate France, while at the same time they would create a European crisis demanding a strong and unscrupulous government, which the Mountain could provide, but the Gironde could not. Calculating on the cowardice of their opponents, the Montagnards entrusted to them the preliminary investigations into the charges against Louis; and a Girondist Committee was appointed to examine the Royal papers seized on August 10; the most important of which were those of the officials of the Civil List. The report of this Committee was introduced by Valaze on November 3, and was marked by that total disregard of justice

which was to characterise every stage of the proceedings. Among other reckless charges, for instance, Louis was accused of accaparement, that is of buying up grain, sugar, coffee, etc., in order to create famine. Three days later Mailhe presented the report of the Committee of Legis­lation in which the legality of the trial was discussed. It had been a difficult task for the Committee to find legal justification for the pro­ceedings. It was patent that Louis was doubly cleared from all crimes committed before 1791 by the amnesty of that year as well as by the doctrine of responsibility of ministers; while from those committed after his acceptance of the Constitution, he was. exonerated by the inviolability which that Constitution guaranteed him. Over and above this, for bearing arms against France, the one “ crime ” of which by a stretch of terms Louis might be considered guilty, the allotted penalty was deposition; and this he had already suffered. Thus both as an act of justice and as a constitutional act the trial fell to the ground at once.

With plausible sophistry therefore the report of Mailhe argued that the matter was one of State necessity, and that the nation being sove­reign could override its own Constitution. Louis must consequently be tried by the nation; and, as the Convention was the nation’s fully ac­credited representative, it was the only possible tribunal. The debates which arose out of this report showed the attitude of parties. They were envenomed by insinuations of Royalism on one side and of “ Orleanism ” on the other, with the result that neither party dared to support Louis, and that many of those who at heart wished to save him were terrified into denouncing him. Of all the prominent politicians Lanjuinais alone lifted his voice, as he lifted it in all righteous causes, against the specious arguments of Mailhe’s report; but Lanjuinais was not a Girondin but a non-party man, and, what the Girondins have so often been wrongly deemed, a true lover of freedom and justice. Honour­ably associated with him were Fauchet, constitutional Bishop of Calvados, and Morisson, a Vendeen deputy. The chief exponents of the opposite view were Saint-Just, a young deputy who was at present a mere satellite of Robespierre but who afterwards became his right-hand man, and Robespierre himself. Their attitude was entirely logical; and Robespierre’s speeches of November 30 and December 3 were, compared with the shifty and illogical reasoning of the Girondins, both cogent and consistent. The Convention were not judges, he said, nor was Louis accused; Louis was condemned on August 10; “ Le proces du tyram c'est Pinsurrection, son jugement c'est la chute de sa puissance, sa peine celle qu'eocige la liberie du peuple.” If it was a mere matter of policy—and it seemed that it was so because on grounds of justice the proceedings could not be defended—then there was no need for a trial. “ Louis doit mourir parce qu'il faut que la patrie vive.'” Pressing his arguments to their logical conclusion, Robespierre demanded that sentence should be immediately passed without the formality of a trial. Louis must simply

be killed as a matter of political expediency. The Convention indeed had no power to try him.

Meanwhile in the middle of these debates a sensational incident of some importance occurred. On November 20 Roland entered the hall and deposited on the bureau some bundles of papers. These, he said, were the contents of an iron press discovered that veiy morning in the Tuileries; a cursory inspection had shown him that they incriminated many members of the Constituent and Legislative Assemblies. This announcement threw the Convention into the utmost agitation; so many of its members had either touched Court gold or had offered to do so, that few felt safe. Roland was at once accused of tampering with the papers for his own benefit and that of his friends; but the main result of the incident was that men became eager to discount by the violence of their present republicanism the impending revelations of their past venality. Thus the discover} of the iron press became an important factor in sealing the fate of the King.

For all this, the majority of the Assembly shrank from adopting the revolting, if consistent, policy advocated by Robespierre and Saint-Just; and on December 3 it was decreed that Louis should be tried by the Convention. A Committee of Twenty-one was entrusted with the pre­paration of the counts of accusation.

The Gironde took advantage of the ensuing delay to propose a “scrutin epuratoire ” of the Convention, by which the name of every deputy would be referred to his constituents in the primary assemblies. This would have been tantamount to an appeal to the people and was a deliberate attempt to avoid the responsibility of trying the King; but the weakness of the Gironde was by this time chronic, and, on some protests arising, Guadet withdrew the motion. On December 10 Robert Lindet reported for the Committee of Twenty-one; and on the following day the King was brought to the bar to hear the counts of his indictment.

From the date of his confinement in the Temple Louis had been subjected to every form of hardship and degradation, but had retained the calmness, forbearance, and devoutness, which were always his strongest characteristics. To be suddenly confronted, amidst every circumstance of contumely and insult, with a list of charges which, since he had received no copy of the indictment, came to him as a complete surprise, placed the King in a predicament with which his slow wits and unready tongue were little fitted to cope. He made no attempt to question the legality of his trial, and to most of the charges was content to give a simple denial. Chief among the counts of the indictment were : (1) complicity in Bouille’s so-called “ plots against the nation,” (2) payment of wages to emigrated body-guards, (3) favouring of and payment of money to bnigris, (4) buying up of corn and other monopolies, i.e. accaparement, (5) breach of his oath by attempting to reverse the Constitution. After denying these charges and expressing ignorance of all the papers save

1792] The decrees of November 19 and December 15. 257

one in the iron press, the King asked for counsel to defend him, and, on this request being grudgingly granted, selected Target and Tronchet. The former declined, but Malesherbes was appointed at his own request; and he and Tronchet, aided by a younger advocate named Deseze, undertook the King’s defence.

In the interval allowed for its preparation two skirmishes took place between the Mountain and the Gironde. On December 14 an attempt was made to regulate entrance to the galleries by insisting on the production of tickets. Later events showed that the adoption of this measure might have altered the result of the trial; but once more the courage of the Girondins oozed away, and the motion was tamely with­drawn. On the 16th a further quarrel arose over the motion of Buzot for the expulsion of all the Bourbons from France. This measure was expressly directed against Orleans, but once again the Girondins retreated and fatuously agreed to exempt the very man whom the measure had been designed to strike.

One other decree of the^: first importance, marking as it does a new departure in revolutionary politics, falls within this period. On November 19 the Convention had offered its protection to all nations struggling for freedom; but they had very soon found that with a depleted treasury it was impossible to undertake this mission gratuitously. Hence, on the report of Cambon, who had by this time become the trusted financial adviser of the Convention, it was decreed that the expenses of the wars of liberation should be transferred to the shoulders of the liberated countries. France thus ceased to be the volunteer, and became the mercenary of the cause of “ freedom.” But the decree of December 15 went further than this; it made “ liberty ” compulsory, and imposed the revolutionary nostrums of France on all the liberated countries. “Malheur au pewplesaid the report of Cambon, “gui essaiera de s'affranchir s'il ne rompe au mime instant toutes les chcanes.” This decree was the manifesto of the war of conquest; and the “ liberty ” which it heralded was in fact an unmitigated tyranny.

But now on December 26 the hour arrived for the King’s second appearance at the bar; and at 9 a.m., escorted by Santerre, Com­mandant of the National Guard, he entered the hall. Deseze at once commenced his speech for the defence. One by one the advocate refuted the charges against Louis, and then boldly accused the Convention of injustice and of prejudging the case. “ I look round,” he said, “ for judges and I find accusers”; “you take away from Louis not only his prerogative as a King, but his rights as a citizen.” There followed an eloquent appeal to the judgment of posterity. “ History will judge your judgment, and hers will be the verdict of generations to come.” On the conclusion of his counsel’s address the King withdrew; and the Mountain cried out for immediate sentence of death. Lanjuinais with admirable sang-froid denounced the iniquity of such a proceeding, even

entreating the Assembly to reconsider its determination to sit in judgment, since so many of them were personal enemies of the accused. “ I and my friends,” he added, “ prefer to die rather than to condemn to death in violation of the law even the most abominable tyrant.” Unfortunately, though Lanjuinais himself may certainly have preferred death to dishonour, he was wrong in thinking that his friends shared either his conscience or his courage.

After this the Convention gave itself over to a prolonged tumult, during which the fierce outcry for instant sentence was broken at rare intervals by protests from the few deputies who, in face of the threats of the Mountain and the clamour of the galleries, had any courage left. On December 28 Robespierre, in a speech which has been described as both smelling of oil and reeking of blood, returned to the theory of the salut public, denouncing the proposal that there should be a referendum, or appeal to the people, as the “rally-cry of royalism,” and avowing, candidly enough, that it would mean the downfall of the Republic. On the other side Vergniaud eloquently urged the appeal to the people, and was supported by Brissot and Gensonne, of whom the former pleaded the disastrous effects on foreign relations of a precipitate sentence, and the latter made a bitter and satirical attack on Robespierre.

Up to this point there was nothing to indicate what would be the result of the division on this vital question of a referendum. On the whole it seemed probable that, in spite of the publicity of the voting, the violence of the spectators, and the agitation of the Assembly, the humanity and sense of justice of the majority would yet assert themselves. It was at this juncture that Barere rose, on January 3, to express the feeling of the Centre. In addition to his power, already noted, of seeing both sides of a question, Barere had an infallible intuition as to which way the wind was blowing, and an ingrained desire to sail with it. His facile and persuasive eloquence enabled him to gloss over the brutal violences of the Mountain with subtle and refined arguments appealing to the more fastidious taste of the Plain. Identifying himself with the Moderates by contemptuous references to Robespierre and Marat, he now proceeded to justify the policy of the very men whom he seemed to be denouncing, and by a totally different line of argument arrived at their conclusion, to wit, that the condemnation of Louis was not a matter of justice, but a great measure of public safety.

Barere’s speech closed the debate. It left the Convention with three questions to decide: first, was Louis guilty: secondly, if guilty, what should be his punishment: and thirdly, should there be an appeal to the people. It was of the utmost importance to all who did not desire the King’s death that the last of these three questions should be taken first; and, when the Girondins, yielding to the clamour of the galleries and to further specious arguments from Barere, agreed to take the question of guilt first, they went far to settle the fate of Louis.

Of the result of this first vote there could be no doubt. The Girondins had from the outset made up their minds that they could not openly declare a belief in the King’s innocence; while the Plain was in its usual plastic condition, and would follow the winning side. Mean­while the Montagnards were not idle. They had found a useful ally in Pache, who in October had succeeded Servan as War Minister. Pache had been a prottgi of Roland, by whose influence he had obtained the portfolio. No sooner, however, was he established in power than he deserted his patron and allied himself with the Mountain. Thence­forward, at a time when an efficient War Office was of the most vital importance, he was far more occupied in playing the game of the Jacobins in Paris than in organising or caring for the armies at the front. It was indeed to protest against the inefficiency of Pache, as well as against the decree of December 15 and inter alia to save the King, that Dumouriez on January 6 arrived in Paris. He remained there until the 26th without being able to get a hearing; and when he returned to his army he had lost his popularity and prestige, and from that time ceased to be a factor in the Revolution.

Through the influence of Pache the Jacobins were now able to get the regular troops removed from Paris; and at the same time they made attempts to gain over the fedtres, while by dark threats of further massacres the capital was once more reduced to a state of terror. The result was that of the 739 deputies, the large majority of whom certainly believed the King to be innocent, not one—not even Lanjuinais—could be found to say so in the tribune. The acme of courage was abstention, and only five deputies reached this pitch of valour. It should be noted that the simple voting of guilty or not guilty on the 34 charges en bloc was contrary to the principles of the Criminal Code of September 16-29,

1791,       which had insisted on each charge being separately put to the jury. Amongst all the lawyers of the Convention not one was found to demand the observance of the forms of justice established by the Constituent.

Issue was now, joined on the question of the referendum. With characteristic cowardice the Girondins had chosen this as the ground for their battle, for it would both save them from accusations of Royalism, and at the same time relieve them from the responsibility of pronouncing sentence. To the Jacobins on the other hand the referendum, was even more distasteful than absolute acquittal. Any appeal to the people would, as they knew, and even had the candour to acknowledge, be the signal for their overthrow. The result of the vote, announced at

10    p.m. on January 15 by Vergniaud, who was in the chair, was disas­trous. Only 284 of the 717 members present voted for, and 424 voted against it; the want of unity and leadership in the Gironde had once more shown itself. Of the 60 most prominent Girondins, thirteen, including Condorcet, Ducos, and Boyer-Fonfrede, had voted against the

motion; and this internal division in the party had undermined their influence over the Plain.

Meanwhile, in view of the approaching vote on the penalty, the Mountain had been busy; and a determined effort had been made to foment disturbances in the capital. Once more the¹ Sectional Assemblies became the centres of disorder. Inflammatory petitions poured in to the Assembly; incendiary mobs surrounded the barriers and the prisons; 132 pieces of cannon were handed over by Pache to Santerre. The Mayor himself complained to the Assembly of the dangerous condition of Paris, and pleaded that the armed force should be put under the control of the Conseil eocecutif. Thus the Moderates of the Convention were made to feel not only that they were surrounded in the Convention by hostile and dangerous crowds, but that outside all was prepare^ for another emeute, even for another September, should-the voling on the final question not commend itself to the Mountain.

Undismayed by these threats Lanjuinais moved that a two-thirds majority should be necessary to carry the death-penalty. Danton, newly returned from the front, marked his reappearance by securing the rejection of this proposal. The voting on the supreme question then began and continued for thirty-seven consecutive hours amidst circum­stances of unparalleled disorder. An attempted intervention by the Spanish ambassador—the second he had made during the trial—was swept aside; and at last the result was proclaimed. Of 749 members, 28 were absent; 321 had voted for penalties other than death, mostly for imprisonment, but two, of whom one was Condorcet, for the galleys; 26 in voting death had demanded a debate on the postponement of the sentence; 13 had made postponement a condition of their vote for death; and 361, that is an absolute majority of 1, had voted for death.

In view of the narrowness of this majority, the Moderates were encouraged to take a further vote on the question of a respite; and on January 19, on the proposal of Buzot, the Convention embarked on its fourth and last a/ppel nominal. But by this time the Gironde was thoroughly demoralised, and the leader of the opposition to Buzot’s motion was the Girondin Barbaroux. Thus the respite, although Buzot, Brissot, Louvet, Valaze and Biroteau voted in favour of it, was defeated by 380 votes to 310, not however before Manuel had, with con­spicuous courage, tendered his resignation on the ground that he had been assaulted within the Assembly in consequence of his vote. When we remember that Manuel, as Procureur of the Commune, had actually been present in the prisons during the September massacres, it is certainly surprising to find him courting death in a courageous attempt to save the King. He eventually lost his head for refusing to give evidence against the Queen, and his conduct indicates a strange alternation of violence and compunction.

The motion for respite having been lost, the execution was now fixed

for the following day. The King was granted a confessor; and the Assembly voted that the French nation should take his family into their care—a decision which probably disturbed the King far more than his own approaching end. Louis had indeed long given himself up for lost, and met the announcement of his sentence with composure. After a painful farewell with his family, he spent the remainder of his time with his confessor, the Abbe Edgeworth. On the morning of the 21st he was driven in the company of Santerre and Garat to the Place de la Revolution. Although there were rumours of plots to save him, one in particular organised by the Baron de Batz, and although the attitude of the crowd was on the whole sympathetic, the Jacobins managed everything so well that no incident occurred. Louis’ behaviour on the scaffold was marked by perfect composure and piety. His attempt to address the crowd was cut short by the roll of drums. At 10.20 a.m. on January 21, 1793, his head was held up to the crowd by Sanson the executioner; and another epoch of the Revolution was over.

Responsibility for the fatal result of the King’s trial must be dis­tributed between the Mountain, the Plain, and the Gironde. Of these the attitude of the first was the most logical as it was the least cowardly; the Mountain avowedly desired the King’s death as a measure of political expediency; that they identified the safety of the body politic with their own continuance in power need provoke no surprise; they were honestly and openly in favour of instant death.

Far other was the position of the Gironde. At the beginning of the trial it is probable that not a single Girondin either desired or anticipated the King’s death; but they had once more determined to sacrifice principle in order to secure popularity. They could not see that the time had now come when the chasm between the bourgeoisie and the proletariate could no longer be concealed; nor had they perhaps sufficient political acumen to see that by their condonation of the Jacobin policy they really stood to lose and not to gain popularity. It cannot be denied that the power to save the King had lain in the hands of the Gironde ; they still pre­dominated in the Convention—witness the continued presence of their candidates in the chair and at the secretarial bureau, witness also the Girondist tone of the various committees. But they had long lost the power to use their majority ; and during the trial their faults of character worked upon their faults of discipline and organisation, as the division lists prove. It is difficult to characterise the votes of some of the Girondins (e.g. those against death, but also against respite) as anything but the doubling of hunted animals; but the considerable amount of cross-voting, which not only destroyed the consistency of the Gironde, but also undermined the confidence of the Plain, shows, in addition to cowardice, a radical want of party discipline.

As to the Plain, the individual members revolted from the idea of so needless a crime and looked appealingly to the Gironde for leadership.

But, as we have seen, all the lead they got was from Barere. He, no doubt, if he had been satisfied that the Gironde would vote solid, would have declared himself for them; but his unfailing sagacity had shown him that the Gironde was not a winning party; he foresaw the victory of the Mountain; and it was not in his character to put himself into opposition to any party which was likely to come into power, least of all to a party so well armed and so unscrupulous as the Mountain. Barere knew that the success of the Mountain would be the signal for a general proscription of their opponents ; and, whoever was to be proscribed, he was determined to be safe. The cunning with which he carried the votes of the Plain to the side of the Mountain has already been noticed. If the Mountain is convicted of brutality and the Gironde of selfish cowardice, the Plain cannot be absolved from the accusation of both weakness and criminal opportunism.

The tragic events which have just been narrated did not at once affect the balance of parties. The death of Louis had certainly been a victory for the Jacobins; but it remained to be seen whether they would be able to reap its fruits. As to the Girondins, their attitude during the trial had destroyed their cohesion within the Assembly and their influence without; but they were still, just as the Feuillants had been up to the very end of the Legislative, in command of a majority in the Convention; and outside, in spite of their loss of prestige, a firm stand for the maintenance of order and property would have ensured to them the support of a Moderate majority, even in Paris itself. During the early months of 1793 indeed the Moderates were greatly in the ascendant in the capital; and there was still a considerable force of federes in the city. The anarchical policy of the Jacobins and the brutality of Marat and Hebert had alienated the great bourgeois class. In fact, by this time everyone who had any property was a Moderate. In spite, therefore, of their discomfiture over the King’s trial, the prospects of the Girondins in the spring of 1793 seemed by no means black ; what they lacked was not supporters, but the power to organise their supporters and the active courage to strike down their adversaries with the weapons which they undoubtedly held. Their opponents, however, were not with­out arms of their own for the coming struggle. Within the Convention itself they had the potent influence of the galleries and the fear inspired by the murderous record of Marat; while in Paris the two great clubs, Cordeliers and Jacobins, were theirs, and the Commune, and with it the National Guard, were subject to their influence.

Confronted with a life and death struggle at home, the Girondins had to meet an insreasingly alarming situation on the frontiers. The death of Louis was the signal for war with England, Holland, and Spain. It also heralded a general repulse of French arms at all the seats of war. For guidance in this double crisis the Gironde had to rely on the weakest Ministry, that had held office since 1789. The War Office

passed on February 8 from the incapable and dishonest hands of Pache into those of Beumonville, equally incapable, though more honest. Roland resigned on January 23; and his departure took away such backbone as the Ministry possessed, and implied the abandonment by the Girondins of the idea of governing through a ministry at all. Roland’s successor, Garat, was of all men the most incapable; a man of letters not of affairs, of theory not of practice, he was content to contemplate events which he was intended to control. It was a culminating mis­fortune for the Gironde that at this critical juncture in their fortunes authority in the capital should have fallen into such hands. Lebrun, at the Foreign. Office, brought a certain amount of reason and intelligence to the conduct of foreign affairs ; but Claviere was anything but a sound finance minister. The fact was that, with the passing of Danton and Roland from the Ministry, the disastrous effects of the exclusion of deputies from the Cabinet again came to light; and the Convention returned to the experiment of a Central Committee to coordinate the work of the numerous special Committees, and to assist—not yet to override—Ministers. Such a Committee had already several times been constituted during the many periods when weak Ministers had held office, but had each time disappeared as soon as the Ministry received any renewal of strength. Thus a Committee of Twelve had been appointed on March 9, 1792, at the moment of Narbonne’s resignation, but had effaced itself before the Brissotin Ministry, which came into office a few days later, only to be reorganised on June 18 as the Committee of Twenty-one, after the fall of that Ministry on June 12. Each increase of members having increased its Jacobinism, the Committee had displayed great activity during the August crisis. After August 10 its members were increased to 25, but it had once more effaced itself before the Ministry of Danton; and only now after Roland’s retirement did it become necessary to reorganise it afresh. On January 4, 1793, it was renewed as the “ Comite de Defense Generale? Numbering as it did twenty-five members, it was very unwieldy; and, as it was open to all deputies to speak, though not to vote, at the debates, it fell into a condition of weakness and disorder.

It now became a question whether the Gironde would be able to find other resources with which to face its enemies at home and the Allies on the frontier. Aid seemed likely to come from one most efficient quarter. Danton, during the critical months of the previous autumn, had given proof of his superlative force and ability as an administrator ; since that time he had been gaining experience on missions to the armies. What he had seen of warfare, however, had given him food for reflexion. It was he who had been largely responsible for giving to the war its colossal scope, who had conjured up the dream of “ natural frontiers,” who had thundered against all kings, and offered the fellowship of France to all nations struggling for freedom. The promulgation of such grandiose

ideas had probably been to him but a device for provoking enthusiasm. He was ever unscrupulous of means, he was not a man of theories, and, if he had ever believed in his own programme, he at any rate never felt bound by any rule of consistency; with his eyes on the future, he was ever ready to break with the past. Whether experience and contact with war really altered his views, or whether his formulae had only been adopted to serve a temporary purpose, he was now in the early days of 1793 convinced of the necessity for giving fixity to the Revolution, and of the hopelessness of continuing a revolutionary crusade against the Powers of Europe on the lines laid down by the decree of December 15,

1792.       Determined on a policy of settlement at home and alliances abroad, he began to look round for the nucleus of a new party wherewith to carry out his designs. Both expediency and his own tastes pointed to the Gironde. That party still held a majority in the Convention and still, as compared with its rivals, might commend itself to the people of France. Danton’s powerful personality might weld the party together, galvanise the paralysed majority into life, and use it for the restoration of order at home and the introduction of reason into foreign relations.

But the Girondins, in addition to a certain conceited rigidity of temperament which forbade their entering into relations with men who had once been opponents, were quite unwilling to accept the domination of Danton, of whose masterful character they had already had experience. They had been fighting all along for power for them­selves and were not prepared to hand that power, or any part of it, to an outsider. Accordingly, when Danton offered his alliance, they drew back from him with jealous suspicion. This rebuff threw Danton on his own resources. Unscrupulous as he was, he must have shrunk from a fresh alliance with the Jacobins. Yet what alternative was open to him ? Only by their aid could he establish the strong government that he required. But his association with the Mountain gave to that party just the access of strength which enabled it to wrest from him the weapons of his own forging, to turn them to his destruction, and set up the Terror which those weapons had been designed to prevent.

During the month of February the lists were being cleared for the great struggle. The Gironde fulminated against the Mountain, and the Mountain plotted against the Gironde. It was not until the following month that the reverses to French arms put a new and fruitful opportunity into the hands of the Jacobins. During February they had to make as much capital as they could out of the cry of famine. By means of the armed bands which were now organised on a permanent footing under the directions of the notorious Maillard, and through the Sectional Committees, aided also by Pache, who, on leaving the War Office, had been elected Mayor of Paris, they raised a series of alarming bread riots and got threatening petitions introduced into the Convention. By such means they extorted from the public treasury large grants of

money, ostensibly for the purpose of feeding the capital, and also created that outcry for a maximum, or fixed price for bread and other necessaries, which afterwards came to a head in April. The Convention, during these latter days of February, was engaged on the report of its Constitutional Committee, which had been presented by Condorcet on February 15. The Constitution proposed by the Committee was Girondist in tone and closely modelled on the lines of the Constitution of 1791; it did not commend itself to the Jacobins and was never passed into law.

Meanwhile the Commune and the Jacobin and Cordeliers’ Clubs were busily plotting the downfall of their opponents; and in the early days of March an informal Committee of Insurrection, which included such desperadoes as Collot, Guzman, Desfieux, Proly, Lazowski, and possibly Tallien, began to meet at the Cafe Corazza. The existence of this Committee seems to have been a matter of general knowledge; but the authorities were too weak or too stupid to take any cognisance of it. Events at the front played rapidly into the hands of the conspirators. On March 5 arrived the serious news that Aix-la-Chapelle had fallen, and that the siege of Maastricht had been raised. From the west there came news even more alarming. For some time past the retired country, immediately south of the estuary of the Loire, had been much agitated by the course of the Revolution. The affected area varied greatly in social and geographical character; its geographical centre, the centre also of disaffection, was the large upland region lying along both banks of the Sevre-Nantaise. This region, far from being mountainous, can hardly even be called hilly, its highest point being no more than 900 feet above sea-level. It spreads in pleasant but featureless undulations over some 400,000 acres. A cattle-rearing district, divided into innumerable small enclosures, tilled by small farmers holding for the most part from resident landowners, it took its name of the Bocage as well from the wealth of high hedgerows crowded with hedgerow timber which gave it the appearance of a vast rolling woodland, as from the frequent small forests and the impenetrable scrub with which the pasturage was interspersed. With a thick population its towns were few and small; chief among them were Chatillon, Les Herbiers, La Chataigneraie, Saint-Fulgent, Clisson, Tiffauges, and Montaigu.

Below and around this irregular, pear-shaped, upland district lay a wider, flatter country, where a larger and more elaborate tillage, includ­ing the cultivation of vines, was practised, and whose inhabitants were more in touch with the rest of France. This Plaine formed a com­plete circle round the Bocage, but the marches between the two were extremely ill-defined.

Westward between the Plaine and the Atlantic lay a district of yet another character, a strange area of land reclaimed from the sea. This country was divided by a wedge of the Plaine, which penetrated to the joast at Les Sables d’Olonne, into two parts, one extending round the

mouth of the Loire and the other round that of the Sevre-Nantaise. Fertile to a high degree, the “Marais” was intersected by a network of ditches and canals so elaborate as to make locomotion a fine art. and in winter impossible save in boats, conditions which rendered military operations a matter of extreme difficulty.

By the inhabitants of these retired districts the abolition of feudalism was greeted with but slight enthusiasm, for their feudal relations with the resident seigneurs left little to be desired. It would be untrue, however, to say that there was any resistance to the changes. Active opposition was only provoked when the Legislative Assembly com­menced its persecution of the priests arid bnigris. The measures against the clergy in particular provoked widespread discontent amongst a people religious to the point of fanaticism; the downfall of the throne enhanced the discontent; and after August 10 the malcontents were provided with the double cry of “Church” and “Crown.” By the spring of 1793 the whole countryside was on the verge of insurrec­tion; and the decree of February 23, which imposed the ballot for the army on the whole of France, only set a match to a train which had long been laid.

The insurrection broke out simultaneously and spontaneously among the peasantry of the Marais and those of the Bocage. Cathelineau, a poor hawker of woollen goods, took the lead in the latter; and Gaston, a barber, in the former—sufficient proof that the insurrection was not fomented by the seigneurs; but no sooner had the peasants risen than they turned to their seigneurs to lead them, and these nobly responded to the appeal. Charette, a retired naval lieutenant and a resident proprietor in the Marais, assumed the command in that district; Bonchamps, a seigneur residing ,iear Saint-Florent, a man of extreme courage and military ability, and d’Elbee, a retired cavalry officer, residing on his property near Beaupreau, became the organising spirits of the insurrectionaries of the Bocage. With them were associated Cathelineau and a gamekeeper named Stofflet; and they were soon joined by a whole host of brave and devoted colleagues. No army perhaps before or since could boast of more heroic leaders than this rabble of peasants which now set its face against the full tide of the Revolution; to read the exploits of de Lescure, Henri de La Rochejaquelein, Charette, Stofflet, Cathelineau, and Bonchamps, is to understand, in part at any rate, the reasons for the success which attended the insurrection.

At first the rebels, opposed only by the raw levies from the sur­rounding districts and the National Guards of the country towns, carried all before them; Les Herbiers, Montaigu, Chantonnay, Cholet, and Vihiers all quickly fell into their hands; and by the end of March, after a decisive victory at Graverau, which placed Fonteriay, Lufon, and Niort, towns of the southern and western Plaine, at their mercy, the insurgents were masters of all the towns of the Bocage, and had

even pushed out into the Plaine; while in the Marais Challans and Noirmoutier were occupied by Charette, whose victorious career was only checked by the obstinate resistance of Les Sables d’Olonne.

The news of this formidable rebellion was now beginning to reach Paris; coupled with the news of disasters on the eastern frontier, it was indeed serious. Few but the rawest troops were available for service in the west, and these preliminary successes made the insurgents daily more formidable. The Republic, therefore, found itself in the month of March in a most perilous position. France’s extremity became once more the Jacobins’ opportunity, and they hastened to use for their own ends the consternation which the news created; but their attempt to clear Paris for fresh insurrections by getting the federes sent to the front was only partially successful, and their demands for a Revolutionary Tribunal were temporarily rejected.

On March 8 Danton and Lacroix arrived in Paris from their mission to the armies, and hurried to the Assembly to report on the situation. Danton had returned from the disorganised armies more convinced than ever of the necessity for establishing a strong conciliatory government. By this time he almost despaired of persuading the Gironde to cooperate with him; yet he gave them one more chance, proposing on March 8 that the Ministry should be opened to members of the Convention. The Gironde were foolish enough to reject this measure, which would have allowed them to participate in the strong government; their pique against Danton blinded them to their own welfare. On the same day Danton, while courageously and characteristically defending Dumouriez and rightly blaming the War Office for the failure of the French arms, set on foot measures for raising volunteers in Paris by means of Com­missioners sent by the Convention to every Section. Patriotism thus satisfied, the Convention gave itself over to party jealousies. The old September cry, “To the front, but leave no traitors behind,” was renewed; but an attempt to rouse the Sections in favour of a new Revolutionary Tribunal did not succeed. Undaunted, however, by this failure, the Jacobin Club published on March 9 an incendiary manifesto with the object of raising the mob against the Girondins in the Con­vention. But even this fell flat. A mob, however, did collect; the War Minister and Petion were hustled, and the Girondin printing-presses were broken up. Advantage was taken of the tumult to secure the creation of a Tribunal Criminel extraordinaire. A useful prototype existed in the Extraordinary Tribunal created on August 17, 1792, which however had been suppressed on November 29, 1792; it was now revived and a similar Tribunal was constituted on March 29, 1793, limited at first, as the August Tribunal had been in scope, and controlled by a supervisory committee of six Conventiormels. The Insurrectionary Committee now appealed to the Cordeliers, and these gladly called upon the. authorities of Paris to arrest “ the traitorous Conventionnels ”; but

the Commune held back, and the Girondins, warned perhaps by Danton, kept away from the evening sitting, and a shower of rain, coinciding with the appearance of a body of federes, dispersed the rioters. This conspiracy, known as the “Conjuration du 9 Mars? had failed in its main object, but had established the first of the great instruments which were to put all power into the hands of the Jacobins—the Revolutionary Tribunal.

Events on the frontier now once again supplied the necessary incen­tive. The outbreak of revolt in the Vendee coincided with the defeat of Dumouriez at Neerwinden (March 18); and at the same time the disaffection in Lyons, Marseilles^ and Normandy came to a head. Neerwinden, and the news of the establishment of the Revolutionary Tribunal, determined Dumouriez to turn his arms against the Conven­tion. He had for long been at variance with the government, and had on March 12 addressed to them a letter of remonstrance couched in very threatening terms. He now felt that, in the hands of the new Tribunal, this letter might cost him his head. He thus stood com­mitted to resistance to the new order of things ; and, although Danton and Lacroix, who interviewed him on the day after the battle, succeeded in extracting from him a semi-retractation of the letter, they returned to Paris more than doubtful of his attitude. Their suspicions were, indeed, not erroneous, for on March 23 Dumouriez entered into nego­tiations with Coburg; and on March 27, in an interview with three Commissioners sent by the Convention to revolutionise Holland, he denounced the Convention as “ 300 scoundrels and 400 imbeciles,” and declared his intention of starving out Paris by blocking the rivers and stopping supplies.’ With these evidences of treason the Commissioners hurried to Paris. Meanwhile the Comitt de Defense Gene rale had thought it advisable not to reveal the contents of Dumouriez’ violent letter, and Danton and Lacroix also concealed their suspicions of the general. Paris, therefore, though agitated and suspicious, was ignorant of the true gravity of the situation; and the publication of the letter in the Moniteur of March 25 came like a thunderbolt to the city.

It was at once seen that the existing government was unequal to the crisis; and increased powers were given to the Comite de Defense G&nerale, which, however, remained unwieldy in form, and, in spite of the inclusion of Danton and Robespierre, Girondist in tone. It was thus not what Danton required; but, such as it was, it commenced on March 25 to sit en permanence. The series of calamities to French arms provoked the Jacobins to propose, and the Girondins to submit to, a corresponding series of vigorous revolutionary measures, and each military reverse had its prompt legislative echo. Thus the evacuation of Aix heralded the establishment of the Revolutionary Tribunal, and the despatch of Representants en mission to each Department, to

complete the levy of 800,000 men. The outbreak of revolt in La Vendee (March 14) provoked the outlawry of the rebels on the 19th, and the creation, on the 21st, of Comitis de Surveillance in every Commune. The defeat of Neerwinden and the defection of Dumouriez were responsible for the reorganisation of the ComiU de Defense G&nerale, for the rescinding on April 1 of the law which guaranteed the inviolability of deputies, for a law of the same date authorising Commissioners of the Convention to arrest suspects, and for the creation on April 4 of an army of sansculottes for home use.

During the last days of March the ferment in Paris was considerable. On the 27th a fresh Committee of Insurrection was formed, this time at the Arche veche, drawing its members from the Sections and enjoying the official sanction of the Commune. On the 80th a climax was reached on the arrival of the three Commissioners to whom Dumouriez had been so candid; their news left no doubt of the general’s treason, and men set their teeth to meet the emergency.

In the first place the War Minister, Beumonville, with four other Commissioners, was despatched to Dumouriez’ camp; and their arrival forced his hand. Failing to carry the soldiers with him, he deserted to the Austrians on April 4. Dumouriez’ coup d'etat had failed; but Paris was as yet ignorant of the result, and Danton was using the agitation of the capital to secure the establishment of the second item of the strong government which he required. Once again the Gironde played into the hands of their opponents; instead of attempting to govern through the Comite de Defense Genbah which they controlled, they were themselves the fifst to clamour for its replacement by a Com­mittee of nine. Thus on April 6 was established the first Committee of Public Safety, with powers to deliberate in secret and to override Ministers, and with 100,000 livres of secret service money for the month to which its operations were at first restricted.

It is difficult to see what benefit the Gironde hoped to derive from this measure, yet Buzot alone of the Girondins resisted it. It is possible that they expected to control the new Committee as they had controlled the old; if so they were very soon undeceived, for no single Girondin found a seat on it. The successful candidates were Barere, Delmas, Breard, Cambon, Danton, Guyton-Morveau, Treilhard, Lacroix, and Robert Lindet, of whom Lacroix and Guyton-Morveau were thoroughgoing Dantonists, while the remainder were compliant members of the Centre. The Gironde had forgotten the supreme fact that Danton was now against them. It was their own fault that it was so; Danton had made repeated overtures, every one of which they had rejected. Finally on April 1 Lasource had accused him of complicity with Dumouriez and of aspiring to a dictatorship. Danton was thus driven into an alliance with the extremists, and to secure their support was obliged to pander to their anarchic and predatoiy policy, to which he was at heart opposed.

With his support three items of this policy were quickly decreed— although in principle only—the formation of an “ army of sansculottes,” the regulation of the price of bread, and the progressive taxation of the rich. New powers were at the same time granted to the Representants en mission, and the action of the Tribunal Criminel extraordinair?, now called the Revolutionary Tribunal, was expedited by the abolition of the Supervisory Committee, which had hitherto controlled its actions, and the increase of the power of the Public Prosecutor. At the same time the Commune was quite irregularly allowed to coopt a hundred new members, which gave it a much needed demagogic reinforcement.

The strife of parties now continued under fresh conditions. The Gironde was driven to try its strength against the combined forces of Dantonists and extreme Jacobins. The first effort of the latter was directed against the Provinces. For months the Provinces had been held as a threat over their heads; ;and they had not spared to retort on the Girondins a general charge of favouring the Provinces at the expense of the capital, a charge which under the vague name of “ Federalism ” was eventually to prove ruinous to the Gironde. There was so much truth in it, that Buzot and the Rolands were notorious admirers of the American system of federal government and had talked about it as an ideal even for France. At each election also the Provinces had favoured the reactionaries; the Jacobins were resolved that this should cease; and in the Representants en mission they held an admirable device with which to bring it to an end.

The system of missions of deputies, which had not been unknown in the Constituent and had been extensively employed by the Legislative, especially after August 10, to secure the establishment of the provisional government, had been greatly extended by the Convention; and on March 9, 1793, Commissioners had been appointed to go to every Department to promote the levy of 300,000 men which had been decreed on February 23. The Commissioners on April 4 took the title of Representants en mission. Great care was exercised in their choice, and they went out with the double object of raising the recruits and of subjecting the Provinces to the Jacobin domination. Needless to say it was to the latter object that they gave most of their attention. Everywhere the most arbitrary measures were enforced; the local Jacobin clubs were raised into legal authorities and the proletariate invited to pillage; all this, be it noted, no longer in the name of the Commune or the Jacobins, but in that of the Convention itself. The result was that by the end of April all France, save only Lyons, the Vendee, Marseilles, Bordeaux, and Rouen, had not only provided its quota of recruits, but had submitted to the domination of the Jacobins.

Seeing that the war had been carried into their camp, the Girondins determined to retaliate; and the absence on mission of so many of the

extremists left them in an assured majority in the Convention. On April 8, 9, and 10, some of the Sections had petitioned in favour of the purging of the Convention; and Robespierre renewed accusations, which he had already made on April 3, that the Girondins had conspired with Dumouriez to restore the monarchy. On the 10th and 12th Vergniaud and Guadet retaliated, charging their opponents in turn with plotting an Orleanist restoration. Inspired by their own eloquence the Girondists on April 13 proceeded to drag Marat before the Revolutionary Tribunal for incendiary articles published in L'Jmi du Peuple. Marat’s friends in the Sections replied by demanding on April 15 under the aegis of the Commune the ostracism of twenty-two Girondist deputies. Neither blow went home; the Sections’ proposal was rejected on April 20; and on April 24, Marat, whose trial had been a mere farce, was acquitted. His accusation indeed had been a blunder, for he was the least dangerous of the Girondins’ enemies, and his trial only served to bring him a popularity which he had not before possessed.

The Jacobins now set to work to establish the first of their new measures. The idea of enforcing a uniform price, or maonmum as it was called, for bread and other necessaries was not a new one; it had been hinted at by Saint-Just on November 20,1792, had been petitioned for by the Commune on April 18,1793, and had already been decreed in principle. A practical uniformity in the price of bread in Paris had been established by the Cornell executif in the previous September, when, to enable Roland to keep the price at three sous a pound, the Convention had voted a grant of 20,000,000 livres. Between that time and the following May the Commune had spent on an average 12,000 livres a day in keeping prices down. Now on May 3 the principle was extended, though still for com only, to the whole of France. Each Department was to have its table of prices, varying according to local conditions. This measure was as much a weapon of terror as a concession to the predatory desires of the extremists, and, combined with the prominence which accrued to Marat after his acquittal, threw all owners of property, however small, into a state of anxiety and caused a wave of reaction against the extremists. Added to this anxiety for the safety of property there was a fear lest a new September should endanger men’s personal safety, for the talk of “ leaving no aristocrat behind ” was again revived during the recruiting for the Vendee, and the actions of the Commune began suspiciously to resemble their actions prior to the massacres. On May 12 and 13 it decreed the formation of a “sans- culottic ” army to watch over Paris, and entrusted the Mayor with the duty of disarming and arresting suspects. At the same time a fresh Committee of Insurrection began to sit at the Mairie, presided over by the police authorities and patronised by Pache himself. On May 19 and 20 this Committee proposed the drawing up of lists of suspects, and the ostracism of thirty-two Girondist deputies. It is probable that

another massacre was designed,. though possibly use would have been made of the Revolutionary Tribunal.

Confronted with a crisis so terrible and so imminent, the Girondins determined to take the bull by the horns. The Convention must shake off at whatever cost the domination of Paris and vindicate its own supremacy. They proposed therefore the breaking of the authori­ties of Paris, and the assembling at Bourges of the “suppliants'" of the Convention, who, to the number of 298, had been elected in September, 1792, to fill vacancies in the deputations. Now, in the event of the destruction of the Convention, its functions would, according to the motion of Guadet, at once be taken up by the «uppleants thus assembled as a kind of reserve Assembly. The Mountain was saved from a blow, which would have been fatal, only by the interference of Barere, who persuaded the Gironde to be content with the appointment of a Committee to investigate the recent acts of the Sections and the Commune, and to protect the Convention from conspiracies. This Commission de Douze was formed on May 18; it drew its members from the lower ranks of the Gironde, the most prominent being Rabaut- Saint-^tienne.

With this inadequate weapon the Gironde embarked on the final phase of its struggle with the Mountain: the Committee, reporting on May 24, recommended the reopening of the National Guard to Moderates and the appointment of a Moderate Commandant, and suggested also the regulation of the Section Meetings, whose sittings should not be prolonged after 10 p.m. The character of the advice thus given shows how weak the Committee was; for it imposed no penalties and left the control of the National Guard in the hands of the Commune, whereas the first steps to the restoration of order and security should have been the complete suppression of the Commune.

The Committee however was not of a calibre to take so bold a step and was content with denouncing the Insurrectionary Committee at the Mairie. On May 24, however, it went so far as to arrest Hebert, the deputy Procureur Substitut of the Commune, for an incendiary article in his journal Le Pbre Duchesne. It also demanded the production of the minutes of the Section meetings, and, on the refusal of the Cite Section, arrested its president Dobsen. In these actions the Committee made a double mistake; in the first place, in striking at the Committee at the Mairie they mistook their adversary; for on May 20 Pache had drawn back from the responsibility, and the focus of insurrection had once more been transferred to the more informal, but in other respects identical, Comite central des commissaires des sections, whose activity in the month of March has already been noticed, and whose eighty members were still sitting at the Archeveche. It was at this body and at the Cordeliers’ Club, now far more incendiary than the Jacobins, that the Committee should have struck. In the second place, in the arrest of Hebert and

Dobsen, the Committee repeated the blunder that had been made in the case of Marat; to proscribe individual leaders was to give a rallying point to the faction. Besides, Hehert’s coarse and violent humour appealed directly to the rabble, and Le Pere Duchesne was popular in a sense in which Marat’s L'Ami du Peuple had never been, so that Hebert’s arrest provoked a considerable outcry.

Battle was now joined between the Commune, backed by the majority of the Sections, and the Committee of Twelve, backed by the remainder of the Sections and a wavering majority of the Convention. Between the two opposing parties lay the Committee of Public Safety in a curi­ously double frame of mind, decided, that is, that the elimination of the Girondins was essential, yet willing to save their lives, and in particular anxious to save the Convention from any encroachment on the part of the Commune. This latter body now cried out loudly for the release of Hebert; and this provoked the Girondin Isnard to an indiscretion, the most flagrant of which even the Gironde had ever been guilty. In a furious speech on May 25 he prophesied that, were the Convention injured, Paris would be annihilated. It was a suggestion of civil war as well as an echo of the threats of Brunswick; and it did untold harm to his party, alienating large classes of moderate men, who regarded it as a menace to their lives and properties. On May 26 the Commune seized the opportunity to demand the dissolution of the Committee of Twelve. The Committee had just ordered a body of National Guards to protect the Convention; and Garat, the Minister of the Interior, who regarded this precaution as a slight on his administration, reassured the Convention by declaring that the danger was a dream of the Twelve Committee­men. The ground was thus cut away below the feet of the Committee, and it was abolished on May 27, only however to be reestablished on May 28 on the motion of the ever-courageous Lanjuinais.

But the triumph of the Gironde was ephemeral. They were obliged to release Hebert, Dobsen, and their other prisoners; and they dared not strike at the Insurrectionary Committee at the Archeveche, which on May 30 declared itself en permanence, and, having appointed on May 28 a secret committee of six with the liberated Dobsen at its head, hastened to bring matters to a crisis. Collecting at the Archeveche 500 citizens to form a semblance of an electoral body, they declared the Commune abolished—a step which significantly recalled August 10—and them­selves to be the new municipality. But, having turned out the old body, they at once coopted it, so that the result of these proceedings was simply the addition of 96 greater ruffians to the Commune.

Thus renovated, the Commune proceeded, in face of the decree of the Convention, to appoint Hanriot, an ex-massacreur, Commandant of the National Guard, after which all was ready for the attack. On May 81, at 7 a.m., the Convention, which, it must be noted, had moved on May 10 from the Manege to the Tuileries, was surrounded by a mob

which during the day increased to about 30,000. A large number were no doubt drawn by mere curiosity and had by no means come with the idea of purging the Convention; but a small nucleus, under the direct command of Hanriot, were determined to secure the proscription of the G: ondins at all costs. In face of this force, Garat was powerless* and tried to shift the responsibility for the outbreak on to the shoulders of the Committee of Twelve. Others, more courageous, demanded the arrest of Hanriot; but the Girondins, with certain inconspicuous excep­tions, tried each man to save himself by yielding to the violence of the Jacobins; and Vergniaud was content to propose the weak and meaning* less motion “that the Sections have deserved well of the^a^m." Then the crowd streamed into the Tuilerieb, demanding the arrest of the Girondists and the dissolution of the Committee of Twelve. When therefore Barere proposed in the name of the Committee of Public Safety, which, busied with the national defence, had declined to commit itself to either side, that the Committee of Twelve be dissolved, but that at the same time the armed force be placed on a permanent footing, the Giron­dists were glad enough to accept the compromise. Thus at the instance of the Committee of Public Safety the greatest obstacle to the coup d'itat was removed.       ■

The Mountain were now able to force two other measures upon the dazed Assembly—the payment of 40 sous a day to all sansculottes who remained under arms, and the reopening of the Tuileries to the public; while the Commune arrested Madame Roland and decreed the disarming of suspects. By the evening of May 31 the insurrectionaries had half won their battle and had secured the weapons necessary for the accom­plishment of the'other half

The following day passed quietly, but its incidents shed light on the attitude of the Committee of Public Safety. Pache, the Mayor, in a report to that body acknowledged the existence of an insurrectionary committee; but the Committee of Public Safety abstained from action. It was in fact temporising; it welcomed the purging of the Convention, though, influenced by Danton, it desired to save the lives of the Giron­dists, and, being itself the child of the Convention, wished to protect the parent body from encroachments. In the afternoon the Girondists met, and talked of flight and of an appeal to the Departments. At a special evening sitting of the Convention a demand from the Commune for the arrest of twenty-seven deputies was referred to the Committee of Public Safety.

During the night the Convention was again surrounded by armed men under Hanriot; and in the early hours of Sunday morning, June 2, a large crowd of spectators assembled to see what would happen. Bad news from the Vendee and Lybns caused some disaffection among the populace, but generally speaking their attitude was one of indifference. The Convention was now in a curious position; most of the Girondists

had thrown down their aims and retired to their own houses, fearing to face their enemies, and had left their defence to Lanjuinais, who was not a Girondist at all, but who, by his courageous attitude and their deser­tion, got himself proscribed with them; yet even so the Convention was unwilling to decree their arrest. But it was surrounded by an armed mob, led by a desperate and half-intoxicated cut-throat. In this pre­dicament a characteristic solution of the dilemma was propounded by Barere in the name of the Committee of Public Safety. He suggested that it would be more convenient if the threatened deputies would kindly proscribe themselves. This absurd and cowardly expedient was rejected with scorn by Lanjuinais and Barbaroux; but the few other Girondists, who had had the courage to attend, including Isnard and Fauchet, hastened to accept the suggestion.

When this self-elimination of the Gironde had been secured, the in­surrection had gone far enough for the Committee of Public Safety; and they now threw their weight into the other side of the scale, and, denouncing the Committee of Insurrection, urged the Convention to break up its sitting: Herault, therefore, who was in the chair, made his way down to the Place du Carrousel at the head of the deputies; there he was confronted by Hanriot, who, on being ordered to remove his guns, with drunken courage gave the command for the gunners to’ stand to their pieces. Onlookers afterwards said that, when the guns were pointed at the Convention, many muskets were levelled at Hanriot and his men from the crowd; but the argument of powder and shot was ever persuasive with the revolutionaries, and, in face of Hanriot’s threatening attitude, the deputies slunk away through the Tuileries and across the gardens, only to find the swing-bridge, that led out on to the Place de la Revolution, guarded by an equally resolute sansculotte.

Headed by Marat, who had assumed the conduct of an affair so congenial, they returned to their hall, and, utterly cowed, degraded, and ashamed, voted the suspension of twenty deputies, two Ministers (Claviere and Lebrun), and of ten of the Committee of Twelve. At

11    p.m. the Convention—after a sitting of twelve hours—was at length permitted to break up by its new master, the Mob.

CHAPTER X.

THE FOREIGN POLICY OF PITT TO THE OUTBREAK OF WAR WITH FRANCE.

The War of Independence, which terminated in 1783 by the recognition of the United States in the Treaty of Versailles, had left England without a friend in Europe. France, Spain, and the United Provinces had taken up arms against her; Russia had placed herself at the head of an armed neutrality, directed against the predominance of British sea power, which was joined by the maritime nations of the north. Austria was in close connexion with Russia; and Prussia, in the declining years of Frederick the Great, was an uncertain factor in European politics. England therefore was in a condition of entire isolation. In addition her finances were in confusion; and Ireland, although conciliated by the comparative independence of Grattan’s Parliament, could hardly be regarded as a source of strength. Such was the position of Great Britain when William Pitt, at the age of twenty-four, was on December 19, 1783, appointed First Commissioner of the Treasury.

For the first ten years of his ministry Pitt devoted himself to the recovery by England of that place in the councils of Europe which she had previously held, and which it was her right to occupy. The first two years were spent in placing the finances on a solid foundation, and in framing a measure of free trade with Ireland, which the jealousies of the two countries, expressed by their Parliaments, did not allow to be carried into effect. His next step was to conclude a commercial treaty with France, which was highly favourable to this country, and would have been more so if the prejudices of his Cabinet had not frustrated the designs of the pupil of Adam Smith. By a mixture of audacity and adroitness he broke the projects of France for a maritime alliance with the Republican Netherlands by restoring the authority of the Stadholder (William V) and making the Provinces the assured friend of England. Prussia was also brought into the combination, so that there was formed in Europe a strong triple alliance. England, supported by a naval State on one side, and a military State on the other, could speak

with a voice which commanded attention. The French Revolution, which broke out in the following year, has thrown the Triple Alliance of 1788 into the shade; but it was for four years the dominating authority in Europe, an authority which always made for peace.

These successes will be recorded in the following pages. They ended with the conclusion of the Peace of Sistova in August, 1791, on which occasion Sir Robert Murray Keith, whose labours had brought it about, wrote to his sisters that he had made the best peace which had been made these fifty years, and had helped essentially in the general pacification of Europe. How vain are the predictions of man ! The ink of the treaty was scarcely dry when the French government declared war against the Emperor; and on February 1, 1793, France made a similar declaration against England and the United Provinces. The remaining years of Pitt’s ministry do not concern us here. The fair fabric of European peace, founded upon industrial prosperity, was shattered. But it may be doubted whether the triumphs of these first ten years, which made England prosperous at home and respected abroad, have ever been surpassed in the annals of our country.

Pitt chose as his Foreign Secretary the Marquis of Carmarthen, afterwards Duke of Leeds. His political memoranda give us precise information with regard to his own views of our foreign relations, and reveal, incidentally, the views of the Cabinet. It was necessary for England to find some ally in Europe, and Carmarthen had not risen above the prejudice of considering France as our natural enemy. The alliance between France and Austria, which had been formed hy Kaunitz in 1756, was regarded as unnatural and menacing to the peace of the world; and it was Carmarthen’s principal object to put an end to it. If Carmarthen had possessed more political insight he would have seen that the alliance between France and Austria was rather a hindrance to the action of both than a mutual assistance. In Austria Joseph II, after sharing power with his mother Maria Theresa, had recently succeeded to independent sovereignty; and it was rather against him than against France that the suspicions of the English Foreign Office should have been directed. Full of good intentions, with a just insight into the evils and defects of his time, he failed in all his undertakings, and stirred up bitterness and rebellion where he desired nothing but prosperity and good-will. He believed that reforms, which required the most delicate handling, could be effected by the issue of imperial edicts; and we have a picture of him in his closet, drafting proclamations at his writing-table, which his minister promptly put into the fire. Learning nothing by the failure of his domestic projects, he exasperated the Dutch by demolishing the Barrier Fortresses, by opening the navigation of the Scheldt, and by reviving ancient claims to the possession of Maestricht. He roused the ill-feeling of Germany and Europe by projecting the annexation of Bavaria to the Austrian dominions in exchange for Belgium. This

gave Prussia an opportunity of placing herself at the head of the League of German Princes, directed against the predominance of Austria, which was an important stej. in he long duel between these two Powers which culminated at Sadowa. It was hot to be expected that France could sympathise with these restless movements. She desired that the peace of Europe should be preserved, and she wished to maintain the friend­ship and the maritime power of Holland. She was also anxious to keep on good terms with Frederick the Great; and the schemes for the partition of Turkey, which Joseph formed in conjunction with Russia, were entirely opposed to the traditional policy and to the best interests of the French nation.

A wise minister would also have penetrated and distrusted the po’^:cy of Catharine II, who ruled Russia for thirty-four years. It is humiliating to read in the correspondence of Sir James . Harris and of Fitzherbert of the efforts which England made to secure the friendship of Russia, and of the ill-success which attended them. We went so far as to offer the Empress the possession of Minorca; but, tempted as she was by the proposal, her calm judgment realised that the acceptrnre of it would endanger objects which were to her of much greater importance. How­ever friendly she might seem, and however much she might appear to be occupied by her literary and other favourites, her cool head always kept the aggrandisement of Russia steadily in view. The two Powers, at whose expense she hoped to, increase her dominions and her influence, were Poland and Turkey. Her eyes were fixed upon Constantinople,, which it was not for this interests of either France or England that she should possess. By opposing France we were playing into the hands of Russia.   ,

A statesman ought to have had some prescience of the calamity which was soon to overwhelm the monarchy of France, and to have seen that, with an outward appearance of majesty and strength, it was rotten to the core, and was hastening to the catastrophe of the Revolution. Pitt, in concluding his commercial treaty with France, saw that the true interests;of England.lay in the peaceful development of French commerce and industry;, which Louis XVI and his ministers were desirous to en­courage. By this policy France would have been strengthened to cope with those tumultuous passions, which, when let loose, were to carry havoc into every portion of the civilised world. But in the eyes of Carmarthen, and of the majority of Englishmen, France was still the hereditary enemy of England; and every intrigue or movement in Europe, however remote, was attributed to her malicious influence. We knocked at the door of every chancery. When Russia refused to listen to us we tried to excite the suspicions of Kaunitz; and his declaration that France had no hostile designs, and was indeed incapable of mischief,; only made Carmarthen more certain of a secret plot. Our ambassador at Vienna was directed to assure the Emperor not only that we had no objection to his opening

1784]       Change. of policy in Denmark.

279

the navigation of the Scheldt, but that there was no object of ambition, however extravagant, which we should not be prepared to support, if he would only surrender his unnatural alliance with the House of Bourbon. Pitt was not an attentive listener to such querulous forebodings. In the early years of his ministry he paid but little attention to foreign politics; and, when at last induced to consider with some show of approval plans for separating Austria from France, and for forming some system on the Continent to counterbalance the House of Bourbon, he took care to express the strongest conviction that it was necessary to avoid, if possible, entering into any engagements which were likely to embroil England in a new war. The objects which Pitt had mainly at heart were peace, retrenchment, and reform. He believed that Britain, solvent and united, would be a tower of strength in a bankrupt and distracted Europe.

The first country to change its attitude towards England was Den­mark, which had been one of the parties to the Armed Neutrality. In 1784 Denmark was virtually governed by Queen Juliana Maria, step­mother of the imbecile King, Christian VII, husband of the unfortunate Carolina Matilda, sister of George III. With the assistance of her Minister, Count Guldberg, she put her own son, Prince Frederick, prominently forward, while she kept her grandson, the Prince Royal, under the strictest tutelage, and removed from the Court Count Andreas Peter Bemstorff, who was known to be favourable to English interests. Efforts had been made to keep the Crown Prince in a state of childish dependency, and to cramp his abilities; but he had a large share of penetration, firmness, and self-command, so that he not only realised the position in which he was placed, but was able to control his feelings until the time for action arrived. Hugh Elliot, one of the most brilliant of English diplomatists, was now Minister at Copenhagen, and his subtle and intriguing spirit soon found material to work upon. He discovered that Count Bemstorff was in communication with the capital, and contrived to have an inter­view with him in Mecklenburg, and to arrange a plan by which the government of Denmark could be overthrown, and a system more favour­able to England put in its place. On January 28, 1784, the Prince Royal completed his sixteenth year; and, on being shortly afterwards confirmed, he became, according to the Danish Constitution, capable of taking part in the government; but he still concealed his designs. At length, on April 14, at a Council attended by the King, Prince Frederick, Count Guldberg, and others, the Prince Royal suddenly rose and read a paper stating the, absolute necessity of a change in the policy of the government, and concluding with the names of those whom he wished to be admitted to the Council. He then handed the paper to his father; and, after some altercation with Prince Frederick, the King signed it. A second document was then executed, which provided that no order of Council should henceforth be valid unless it was

countersigned by the Prince Royal. Bemstorff was recalled, Guldbeig was dismissed, and in the evening the Prince proceeded quietly' to a Court ball. Elliot was full of admiration for the youthful hero of the revolution, who had kept his secret for two years, during which time he had carried on private communications and correspondences with various people^ until the time had come for him to declare himself.

This revolution brought about some change in the politics of the north. Sweden was displeased at Denmark having acquired the strength of an independent position; and Carmarthen suspected that she was plotting against Denmark for the possession of Norway, and that she would be assisted in this enterprise by France, between whom and Sweden there undoubtedly existed a very close connexion. He smelt out a plot by which Sweden was to grant to France the use of the port of Goteborg, receiving the West-Indian island of St Bartholomew in exchange; and he succeeded in getting a joint note addressed by the Courts of St Peters­burg and Copenhagen to the Court of Stockholm to enquire what were the intentions of France in this respect. To these matters Pitt applied only a moderate attention, partly because he was occupied with other cL»ngs, and partly because he did not share Carmarthen’s fefeling of insecurity. The friendship of Denmark being assured, Carmarthen endeavoured to effect an alliance with Russia and with Austria. If Austria could not be gained he would turn his attention to Prussia. But Russia must come first, not only from her intrinsic importance, but from the weight and influence which she exercised over the cabinets of Vienna and Berlin. It was indeed impossible without the help of Russia to sever the connexion between Austria and France, which our Foreign Office regarded as disastrous to England and dangerous to Europe. Russia might object to making an alliance with England, the secular enemy of France, who was the chosen friend of Catharine’s ally, the Emperor of Austria, or with Prussia, who was the constant and natural rival of Austria in Germany. On the other hand, an alliance of England with Berlin and Copenhagen might seriously offend both the Imperial Courts. Joseph II, with his awkward restlessness, was about to show the British government a way out of the difficulty by making an attack on the liberties both of Holland and of Belgium.

A strict alliance had been concluded between Joseph and Catharine in May, 1781, expressed not in a formal document, but in a mutual exchange of letters. Austria guaranteed to Russia the possession of European Russia, and of her dominions in Poland, as well as the maintenance of Poland in the position of 1773; and in return Austria received the guarantee of her dominions, including the Low Countries and her pos­sessions in Poland. Joseph also bound himself to keep the Porte to the strict observance of treaties, and, if Russia should declare war against Turkey, to join her in the campaign three months later with the same

number of troops. This alliance was directed primarily against Turkey, but also against Prussia. It was a profound secret; Frederick the Great had a suspicion of it, but knew nothing for certain. Thus fortified Joseph turned his attention to the Barrier and the Scheldt. By the Treaty of Utrecht the Dutch occupied, as a barrier, seven Belgian fortresses with 14,000 men at the cost of Belgium; while the closing of the Scheldt was secured by the Treaty of Munster in 1648. Joseph began by razing all the barrier fortresses, most of which had fallen into ruin, maintaining, however, the defences of Luxemburg, Ostend, and the citadel of Antwerp. In November, 1783, he demanded the restitution of the frontier between Belgium and Holland on the lines of 1664, the demolition of the Dutch fortresses on the Scheldt, the removal of the guard-ships, and the surrender of Maestricht.

If Joseph reckoned upon the support of the French alliance he was mistaken. France took the side of Holland against the Emperor, but when war became imminent offered her mediation. It was proposed that Belgium should enjoy the open navigation of the Scheldt, but that Maestricht should remain with the United Provinces. Joseph, irritated by delay, took a high tone, while the Dutch, excited in their turn, refused to open the river. The Emperor determined to force the passage, and sent a brigantine down the Scheldt, which on October 8, 1784, was fired upon by the Dutch, while another ship, sailing up the river, was captured. The Imperial Ambassador left the Hague; Wassenaer was withdrawn from Vienna; and the Dutch Commissioner retired from Brussels. An Austrian army was collected in Belgium, but without artillery or pon­toons. The Dutch could offer only a feeble resistance, but they opened their sluices and flooded the country. King Frederick of Prussia naturally opposed the Emperor, and a European war seemed imminent. This was averted by an armistice which resulted in the Treaty of Fontainebleau, signed on November 8, 1785. The Scheldt remained closed, and the Emperor gave up his claim to Maestricht on the receipt of ten millions of florins. Frederick, an astute observer of politics, blamed Joseph for his undue haste both in threatening war and in making peace.

Coincident with the question of the Scheldt was that of the Bavarian exchange, a scheme of Joseph for incorporating the Bavarian with the Austrian dominions, and giving Belgium to the Elector of Bavaria with the title of the King of Burgundy. France seemed not indisposed to consent; Charles Theodore, Elector of Bavaria, who was sixty years old and without children, was favourable to the plan, and Catharine of Russia gave her approval. Frederick, now nearing his end, watched very closely a scheme which would give Austria an advantage in the rivalry between the two great German Powers. In July, 1785, the Fiirstenbund, or League of Princes, was formed to oppose the plan, and was joined by a majority of the Electors. Vergennes, after long

wavering, declared himself opposed to it, and the Emperor had to give it up. This was the last triumph of Frederick the Great. When he died on August 13, 1786, Joseph could breathe more freely.

We have seen that the English Foreign Office distrusted Frederick, and thought that it might be the best policy for England in her isolated condition to associate herself, in appearance at least, with the ambitious designs of the Emperor. But we possessed fortunately at the Hague a great diplomatist with a clearer insight and a stronger will. Sir James Harris, destined afterwards, as Lord Malmesbury, to dorm, late the fortunes of the United Provinces, had now come to England to communicate with the Cabinet, and, in May, 1785, he argued strongly for an alliance with Prussia. He pointed out that Austria and France were united for purposes of mutual aggrandisement—a statement not so true as it may have seemed to be to contemporaries—and that Russia was closely connected with Austria, and Spain with France. If these five Powers were linked together their influence would be felt by the whole of Europe, but especially by England and Prussia, who must therefore concert measures for mutual safety. If England wished Prussia to be clear and explicit she must be clear and explicit herself; she must meet the King of Prussia half way and be ready to _:make an alliance with him. If England and Prussia acted together, a league of Princes would be formed against the aggrandisement of Austria; Russia would be separated from the Emperor; Denmark would be preserved; Sweden would be rendered innocuous. This would be a union of defence and security, not one of attack and ambition. All past transactions must be forgotten, all future contingencies overlooked, and the importance of the moment alone attended to. France must on no account have the Low Countries; and, if Prussia would exert herself to prevent this, England would use similar exertions to prevent Austria from absorbing Bavaria. The alliance was to be formed on these grounds.

Austria and Russia were naturally opposed to an alliance between England and Prussia, and to the accession of Hanover to the Fiirstenbund. On May 26, 1785, we find Count Kazeneck, the Austrian minister, protesting against the idea that the Emperor intended to employ force to carry out any of his projects, and complaining of a newspaper report that the King of England was one of the chief promoters of the League of Princes. Carmarthen replied that his master would doubtless ever prove himself, in his Electoral capacity, a zealous assertor of the liberties and rights of the Empire; and that, if there was no design of infringing them, no measures of a defensive nature in favour of them ought to give offence. Kazeneck said that an equitable exchange, agreed to by both parties, could not create alarm any more than if he and Carmarthen were to exchange their watches. Carmarthen replied that the value of both watches should be ascertained, and that what was to be given in exchange should be well known. Kazeneck rejoined that the House of

Austria acquired too much advantage from the possession of the Low Countries to think of bartering them against Bavaria.

The Russian ambassador at the Court of St James’ at this time was Count Woronzoff, whose letters from England, recently published, are of great value to the historian. He was strongly in favour of an alliance between England and Russia, and could not understand why England should prefer the friendship of Prussia. Calling on Carmarthen on June 14, he dwelt earnestly on this point. He said that the Courts of Versailles and Vienna, under an appearance of friendship, entertained the deepest distrust of each other. The Emperor believed that he would ultimately overreach Prance, but he was mistaken. France was making every preparation for war, and would in the course of a year throw off the mask and attack the Emperor. We know now how erroneous this forecast was. Woronzoff then approached the subject of the Fiirsten- bwnd. The accession of Hanover to this League would certainly throw the Emperor into the arms of France, and would play into the bands of France and Prussia, by preventing any possibility of an understanding between Austria and England. Carmarthen admitted that his own favourite scheme was an alliance between England and the two Imperial Courts of Russia and Austria, but that the Emperor had received every overture with coldness, and seemed desirous either of seeing England totally unconnected with the Continent, which was also the wish of France, or else of forcing her to connect herself with Prussia, a course which Carmarthen would never support unless compelled to do so by the Emperor. Carmarthen added that the interest of England was to prevent the Low Countries from ever being alienated, directly or in­directly, to France, which would be a most serious matter. As a fact the King of England signed the League, as Elector of Brunswick- Liineburg, on July 23,1785.

It has already been stated that the Treaty of Fontainebleau between the Emperor and the States General was signed on November 8,1785. Two days later a treaty of alliance between France and the Provinces was concluded at the same place. By this treaty, which was ratified on Christmas Day, France was to furnish troops, and her ally ships, for their mutual succour; neither was to make peace or to contract alliance without the consent of the other. At the same time, by a treaty of commerce, each party was to favour as far as possible the interest and advantage of the other, by rendering to the other every assistance on all occasions; and they were not to listen to any negotiations or treaties which might be detrimental to each other, but to give notice of such negotia­tions as soon as they were proposed. These treaties were considered at the time as a great blow to the power of Great Britain. Vergennes was able to pose as the pacificator general of the universe. In the words of the Annual Register, it could not but be a grievous consideration to Englishmen that, while .France, through the happiness of great ministers

•at home, and their choice of able negotiators abroad, was spreading her consequence and extending her influence through the nations of the earth, Great Britain,' through some unaccountable fatality, seemed to be fallen from that high seat in which she had so long and gloriously presided, and to be no longer considered, or almost unremembered, in the general politics or system of Europe. Thus at the close of 1785 was Holland tied to the chariot wheels of France. But matters were soon to assume a different complexion.

One result of the closer relations established between France and the United Provinces was the conclusion of a commercial treaty between England and France. The eighteenth article of the Treaty of Versailles contained a provision that commissioners¹ should be appointed on either side to draw up arrangements of commerce between the two nations, on the basis of reciprocity and mutual convenience, and that these arrange­ments were to be completed within the space of two years, dating from January 1, 1784. The English Ministry were not very anxious to Cany this clause into effect. In order to put pressure upon England to fulfil her engagements the French government issued edicts in July, 1785, forbidding the importation of a number of British manufactures. Only raw material was allowed to be imported from England; and shop­keepers were forbidden to exhibit advertisements of “ marchandises d'Angleterre.” After the friendship between France and Holland had been established by the Treaty of Fontainebleau Pitt saw that further delay would be dangerous. In December, writing a letter signed by Carmarthen, he asked for a further extension of the time, which was just expiring, in order to arrange a commercial system founded on the law of mutual and reciprocal advantage—a system which might form a solid and permanent connexion between the trading part of the two countries. Vergennes granted an extension of six months, which might be extended to twelve. William Eden, better known by the title after­wards conferred on him of Lord Auckland, was selected as negotiator. Eden had hitherto been attached to the’ Opposition, and was a friend of Lord North and Lord Loughborough. Indeed he was abused by his former associates for deserting his party. He possessed a clear head and great industry, and probably no better instrument could have been selected for the work. The treaty was strongly opposed by Fox, who argued that our commercial prosperity had never been so great as when our relations with France were most strained.

Eden reached Paris on March 20, 1786. The principal difficulty in arriving at an agreement lay in the Methuen Treaty, made with Portugal in 1703, which provided that Portuguese wines should be imported into England at a duty one-third less than those of any other country. Pitt, who was a disciple of Adam Smith, with economic principles far in advance of his age, was personally willing to abrogate the Methuen Treaty, to receive French wines and brandies on the

terms of the most favoured nation, and even to make an abatement below the lowest rate of duty at present existing. France was eager for this step to be taken, but George III and his other Ministers were too much prejudiced to yield. The Methuen Treaty was not abrogated till 1831, and the importation of French wines did not become effective till 1860. The decision unfortunately lay with the narrow intelligence of Jenkinson, afterwards created successively Lord Hawkesbuiy and Lord Liverpool. He was inspired by traditional jealousy of the French and could not believe them to be sincere. A principle of reciprocity had to be substituted for that of Free Trade. After much discussion the duty on French wines was lowered to that paid at the time by the wines of Portugal; but the duty on Portuguese wines was reduced by one-third, in accordance with the provisions of the Methuen Treaty. French silks, even in the form of ribbons, were entirely excluded, owing to the opposition of the Spitalfields weavers. Hardware and cutlery were admitted to either country at a duty not exceeding 10 per cent., cottons and woollens at a duty not exceeding

12    per cent. Cambrics and linens, the products of France and of Ireland respectively, were admitted at moderate rates.

The treaty contained other provisions of a more general character. It established a reciprocal and entirely perfect liberty of navigation and commerce between the subjects of the two countries. In the case of the outbreak of war a year’s notice was to be given to the subjects of either Crown for the removal of their persons or their effects. Both sovereigns reserved the right of countervailing, by additional duties, the internal duties imposed on manufactures, or the export duties charged on the raw material of certain articles. Besides this, contraband was defined, and the manner in which the visitation of ships was to be conducted in time of war was determined. It was provided that the neutral flag should not cover the enemy’s goods, and that the property found on enemies’ ships should be fair prize, unless it had been embarked before the declaration of war. The duration of the treaty was limited to twelve years.

It is difficult to pronounce an opinion upon a treaty concluded with France so short a time before the outbreak of the French Revolution. It is possible that the economic advantage remained with England, and that our hardware and linens found a market in France which French wines and brandies failed to obtain here. But the higher considerations of policy, which were certainly in the mind of Pitt, are expressed in a letter from Rayneval to Barthelemy, written on the conclusion of the treaty: “The balance which will result from the treaty is uncertain; but whatever may happen, we shall at least have acquired the unappreciable advantage of insensibly diminishing the national hatred, which has hitherto separated France from England, of substituting a legitimate for a fraudulent commerce, and of turning the profits of contraband to the advantage of the State. These considerations are more important

the indiscreet clamours which* dishonest persons are certain to permit themselves both in France and in England;’’

We must now return to the affairs of the United Provinces. This is not the place to show how their constitution oscillated between an oligarchy of provincial Estates, supported by France, and the government of ;the Stadholder, which resembled a monarchy and was favoured by England, or to trace the steps by which the power of the Stadholder had gradually declined. During the first months of 1786 France was gaining increased influence, and the Stadholder was subject to continual insults and attacks. Party feeling ran so high that the Province of Zealand proposed to detach itself from the rest of the confederation and to place itself under the protection of England* a step which could not be taken without a war. The English Cabinet was not prepared for war; but it offered the Prince of Orange material support if. he would place himself at the head of the. party which was disposed to favour him. A memorial was also presented to the States, General, warning them of the ambition of France and expressing the interest felt by England in the maintenance of the power of the Stadholder. When relations were at the utmost degree of tension Frederick the Great died, and was succeeded by his nephew, the brother of the Princess of Orange. Our ambassador describes him as a poor specimen of a King, tall, but undignified and, ungraceful, sensible, but not refined or elevated in his ideas. He adds that his moral character is low and that he is much in debt, but that he is strongly attached to England, and that he wishes to marry his daughter to the Prince of Wales;

The first step of the new King of Prussia was to send Count Gortz as ambassador to the Hague; but this had no effect on the conduct of the Estates of Holland. They stimulated the formation of free-corps through­out the country; and the Prince, feeling his life insecure, by the advice of Harris surrounded himself with a guard. In September the Estates of Holland suspended the Stadholder from his functions and rescinded the Act of 1766, which gave him the power of military nominations. The Patriots, as they were called, held a meeting at the French ambassador’s bouse, where they discussed the advisability of proclaiming the Stad­holder an enemy of the Republic, depriving him of his office, and declar­ing it no longer hereditary' in his family. As an answer to this Gortz was recalled by his sovereign. Harris wrote to Pitt, on November 28, giving a retrospect of his mission, pointing out the danger of the Dutch being under French influence and direction in politics, and asking that the friends whom he had succeeded in gaining for England might not be abandoned. Pitt replied with great caution, but in terms which were more decided than either Harris or Carmarthen expected. Carmarthen wrote in exultation, “ Now we have raised his attention to the important object in question, we must by all means endeavour to keep it up, and not suffer Holland to be sacrificed either to lawn or cambric.”

The two parties^ Orange and Republican, were at this time almost equally balanced; but the supporters of the Stadholder became gradually more numerous. Nearly all the peasantry were in his favour, and he had a majority in Rotterdam and Utrecht. Towards the end of March opinion began to change in the States of Holland itself. The situation of the Republican party became extremely critical. In their principal stronghold of Amsterdam they were weakened; in Rotter­dam they were completely mastered; Friesland, Utrecht, Zealand, and Gelderland were against them, and Overyssel alone on their side. Just at this time Harris came to England. He found some members of the Cabinet in favour of intervention, but Pitt was more cautious. He said that if we did anything we must be ready for war. Harris insisted on the danger, probably illusory, of France attacking England with the assistance of Holland; but Pitt, in a characteristic utterance, depre­cated any interruption to the growth of affluence and prosperity in the country, and asked whether this was not increasing so fast as to make her able to resist any force which France could collect for some years to come. Eventually a Cabinet minute was presented to the King, advising pecuniary assistance to the Stadholder to the amount of £20,000 advanced as loan or otherwise.

As soon as Harris returned to the Hague a plan of action was agreed upon. The Prince was to place himself at the head of the army commanded by Van der Hop at Amersfort, which was joined by English officers who volunteered for service, and every day grew in numbers. The Princess of Orange, a lady of great spirit and ac­complishments, who exercised a deep fascination over Harris, suddenly left Nymegen and went to the camp at Amersfort. She then continued her journey to the Hague, but was stopped in the neighbourhood of Gouda by some free-corps and carried under a strong guard to Schonhoven, where she was treated with some indignity. The States of Holland passed a resolution approving of her capture, but after a short time she was released and returned to Nymegen. She wrote to her brother, the King of Prussia, urging him to avenge the insult passed upon her, and, with the characteristic hastiness of his disposi­tion, he immediately prepared to march troops into Holland. This gave rise to a critical situation. The French were pledged by treaty to defend the Dutch if attacked, but England could not allow her friend the Stadholder to be crushed under her eyes. The despatches on this subject, preserved in the Record Office, are well worth studying. There is one dated July 27, 1787, which, by the frequent erasures and the sentences contributed in autograph by the different Ministers, shows the care with which it was drafted. ■

On September 13, 1787, the Prussian army, under the command of the Duke of Brunswick, advanced from Cleves and entered Gelder­land. At the same time Pitt wrote to Eden, who was still in Paris,

that the Court of Versailles must abandon the project of extending its influence in the United Provinces by s’tering their constitution. The authority of the Stadholder must be preserved; and, if the French 'will not accept these principles, the question must be decided by war. They must, as things stand, give up the idea of exercising a jredominant influence in the Republic, or they must be prepared to fight for it. In this manner a war between France and England was on the point of breaking out, which, whatever its result, would have changed the destinies of Europe. But the success of Brunswick was too rapid. All resistance collapsed. Six days after the Prussian army had crossed the Vaal the Prince of Orange entered the Hague in triumph, and was invested with every privilege which had been taken from him.

This result, so satisfactory to England, having been attained, it became necessary to provide against a similar danger in the future; and the Court of Prussia urged us to take steps for this purpose. William Grenville was sent to Paris to strengthen Eden’s hands, and to make easier for him the disagreeable task of submitting the friends with whom he had negotiated the treaty of commerce to a serious humiliation. On October 27 Montmorin signed a declaration that the Eng of France had not, and never had, the intention of interfering in the affairs of the Republic of the United Provinces; that he retained no hostile view towards any quarter relative to what had passed in Holland; that all warlike preparations shoidd be discontinued on either side; and that the navies should be again placed on the footing of the peace establishment. A triple alliance between England, Holland, and Prussia, was now concluded. Lorenz Pieter van de Spiegel, who, as Pensionary of Zealand, had always been the warm friend of England, was now Grand Pensionary of Holland, and negotiated the treaty with England which was signed at the Hague on April 15, 1788. It guaranteed the hereditary Stadholderate in the House of Orange, and established a defensive alliance between the two countries. On the same day, and at the same hour, a similar treaty was signed between the United Provinces and Prussia at Berlin. The treaty between England and Prussia still remained to be concluded. This was done at the Loo, where the King of Prussia was staying with his sister. It was effected by the strength of mind and pertinacity of Harris, working upon the weak and wavering disposition of Frederick William. Hands saw the King on June 12 at seven in the morning; but it was not till after midnight, while a brilliant company were dancing, that the King asked Harris to walk with him behind the ball-room, and told him that he had decided to conclude a provisional alliance at once, with an act of guarantee for the constitution of the Dutch Republic, and in the meantime to sound and consult with other Powers on a more general and extensive alliance. Harris and Alvensleben, the Prussian Minister, had no secretaries with chem, and spent the rest of the night in drafting the treaty with secret articles. Early next morning the treaty was submitted to the King, and

then formally signed by Alvensleben and Harris in the presence of van det Spiegel, being entitled the Provisional Treaty of Loo.

Thus was concluded the Triple Alliance of 1788, a triumph for the foreign policy of Pitt. Finding England without friends and of no account in Europe, he had in five years, by establishing her finances on a sound basis, made her respectable and formidable. He had ^isrogarded the arguments of Carmarthen to join the Courts of Austria and Russia, who were the freebooters of Europe, and whose plans were foredoomed to failure, and, following the safer guidance of Harris, had welded three progressive countries into a solid union, which was a guarantee for peace. For some time the three allied Powers, under the hegemony of England, gave the law to Europe. They prevented Denmark from assisting Russia in her war against Sweden, and gave tranquillity to the North. The efforts of England were used successfully at Reichenbadi to nip in the bud an internecine struggle between Prussia and Austria. The Triple Alliance mode peace between Austria and the Porte at Sistova, between Russia and the Porte at Jassy; it secured the Belgian Netherlands to Austria; it enabled England to speak, with force and dignity to Spain in the dispute about Nootka Sound, It tended to calm the discord of Europe, to curb the ambition of some Powers, and the revolu­tionary movements of others; but it was powerless to conjure the terrible doom which hung over the devoted head of France. The whole course of its influence bears the impress of the serene and majestic mind of Pitt. Still, the advocates of non-intervention in the poMics of the Continent may derive from it some support for their creed. It bound England closely with Holland, and thus was the final cause of the war with France in 1793. It led Pitt to contemplate the so-called Russian armament of 1791; and our desertion of Prussia, enforced by the public opinion of England, led to the desertion of the Coalition by Prussia at the Peace of Basel in 1795.

The limits at our disposal will not permit us to dwell in detail upon all these aspects of international history; we must confine ourselves to those in which England was most prominently concerned, and these are three ; the dispute about Nootka Sound, the Russian armament, and the outbreak of the war with revolutionary France. Scarcely had a year elapsed after the conclusion of the Triple Alliance when the States General met at Versailles, and an event occurred on the other side of the world which nearly brought about a European conflagration. Nootka Sound is a harbour on the west coast of Vancouver Island. It is doubt­ful by whom it was first discovered. Perez claims to have gone there in 1774, and Cook certainly visited the place in 1778, and stayed there a long time. Retaining what he understood to be the native name of Nootka, he concluded on imperfect evidence that Spanish vessels had never been there; but, it is not stated that he took possession of the country for England. For seven years after this the north-west coasts

290

Nootka Sotmd.

■ [1790

of America remained deserted^ until the conclusion of peace again stimulated enterprise. From 1785 onward English ships, coming both from India and from the mother country, visited Nootka to purchase furs. In 1788 the Spaniards began to bestir themselves. They heard that the Russians were invading Alaska, and they did not wish that either their trade or their territorial rights should be interfered with. In the follow­ing year Flores, Viceroy of Mexico, sent Martinez and Haro, on the ships Prmcesa and San Carlos, to occupy Nootka before it should be taken possession of by any other Power. Arriving at Nootka in June, they seized two English ships, the Iphigenia and the Argonaut, which they found there, and imprisoned their crews. These were taken to Mexico, but were released by the Viceroy on the ground of the friendly relations existing between tbe two nations, and the probability that the traders were ignorant of Spanish rights.

The news of what had happened came to the English Cabinet through the Spanish ambassador on February 10, 1790. He asked that the men who had planned the expedition might be punished, in order to deter others from making settlements in Spanish territory: We had, unfortunately, at this time, no English Minister at Madrid, as Lord Auckland had left in the previous year, and his successor had not yet been appointed. Pitt took the matter into his own hands and acted with the greatest vigour. The despatches, now extant in the Record Office, are written with his own pen, and speak with all the imperious dignity of the son of Chatham. His reply to the letter of the ambassador, dated February 26, is to the effect that nothing is known of the facts, but that the act of violence mentioned by the Spanish ambassador must necessarily suspend all discussion of the claims until the seized vessel should be restored, and an adequate atonement should be made for a proceeding so injurious to Great Britain. This haughty reply meant war, and Spain began at once to make preparations for it.

A breach between England and Spain was of more importance than might appear at first sight. The Pacte de Famille, ah offensive and defensive alliance between the two branches of the House of Bourbon, signed on August 15,1765, the last of a series of similar agreements, was still in force; and the Court of Madrid called upon that of Versailles to make its engagements good. The matter came before the National Assembly at the beginning of May; and Mirabeau had to make up his mind as to the policy to be adopted, both as secret adviser to the Court, and as Rapporteur of the Diplomatic Committee of the Assembly. On June 23, 1790j he advised the Court that, if they wished to give effect to the Family Compact, they must get it altered in form, as the nation would never support an agreement which was purely dynastic in shape. He recommended that they should send an enVoy to Madrid for that purpose. The official report of Mirabeau was made to the Assembly on August 25. He proposed to maintain provisionally the alliance with

Spain until a union of a more national character could be formed between the two countries; and he demanded that the French navy should be increased by thirty ships of the line, a number which the Assembly raised to forty-five. It is stated on the authority of Miles that Mirabeau received from the Spanish minister a thousand louis (Tor for this service. Pitt became alarmed. He did not dread a war with Spain; but a war with Spain and France combined was a more serious matter. He there­fore sought means of influencing the opinion of the Assembly through other channels than those of regular diplomatic intercourse. For this purpose he employed two instruments. One of these was William Augustus Miles, a friend of Lafayette, of Mirabeau, and of the leaders of the Jacobin Club, of which he was a member. The other was Hugh Elliot, the brilliant diplomatist, whose success in Denmark we have already narrated, who had been the friend of Mirabeau’s youth. There are few matters in diplomatic history more wrapped in mystery than these two missions. The correspondence relating to both of them has almost entirely disappeared, and has eluded the most careful search; but a little salvage from the wreck shows us the drift of the vessel’s course.

Pitt sent for Miles as early as March 4,1790; but Miles did not leave for Paris till July. His son tells us that the purport of his mission was precise ; he was to exert his personal influence with the view of inducing the National Assembly to annul the Family Compact; and he adds that, although not included in his official instructions, it was understood that the occasion would be used to promote permanent relations between the two countries. The letters written by Miles to Pitt between August, 1790, and April, 1791, have entirely disappeared, and they form the only gap in a voluminous correspondence. He writes, however, to Rose, on November SO, “ I have very great pleasure in informing you that my mission is likely to have a fortunate issue, and that no difficulty will be made to dissolve the Family Compact, provided that France can count upon the friendship of England in exchange.” An alliance with France was probably more in the mind of Miles than in that of Pitt. In October, 1790, George III wrote a letter to Pitt in the following terms : “ From a thorough conviction how essential peace is to the prosperity of this country, it is impossible for me to object to anything that may have a chance of effecting it; though not sanguine that Mr H. Elliot and his French friend are likely to succeed, where caution and much delicacy are necessary. While our ambassador and official correspondence are kept clear of this business, it will certainly be wise to keep up the proposed communication, for the sole purpose of restoring peace, but no encouragement must be given to forwarding the internal views of the democratic party. We have honourably not meddled with the internal dissensions of France, and no object ought to drive us from that honour­able ground.” It may be mentioned that before Miles left London he

had. been ordered by Pitt to hold no communication, direct or indirect, with Lord Gower.

At the beginning of October Pitt had sent an ultimatum to Madrid, with instructions to our minister Fitzherbert that, if it were not accepted within ten days, he was to quit the capital without taking leave of the Court, and to return to England by way of Lisbon. Thus peace and war hung in the balance. At this juncture Elliot was sent to Paris, where it is probable that he remained only a few days; but the dates are difficult to ascertain. Whatever arguments Elliot used to Mirabeau or others—and the arguments which he used to Mirabeau may have been such as to account for the secrecy of the transaction—they were entirely successful. On October 28 Mirabeau wrote to the Court that peace was not difficult to preserve; that England and the English Ministry did not desire war but were entirely anxious for peace; while Spain could not make war without the assistance of France, but would be beaten at the first cannon-shot. Before this letter was written Florida-Blanca had come to the conclusion that his country had neither money nor credit for a foreign war. The hope of allies was vain; some Powers were hostile or bound to the foe, some were willing but were not worth having, others would ask too great a price. Russia was the most promising, America would insist upon the free navigation of the Mississippi and a large part of Florida, France was not to be depended upon. On October 28, the veiy date of Mirabeau’s letter to the Court, the Nootka Convention was signed, by which England secured, and Spain retained, the rights of commerce, navigation, and settlement on the Pacific coast above San Francisco. Each nation was to have free access to the establishments of the other in those regions. England pledged herself, in return, to prevent her subjects from carrying on an illicit trade with the Spanish settle­ments, or from approaching within ten leagues of the coast already occupied by Spain. By this treaty England gained the right to trade and settle on the north-west coast of America, and Spain relinquished for ever her claims to sovereignty on this coast as founded on discovery.

The settlement of the dispute about Nootka Sound enabled England to act with effect in the matter which followed the Congress of Reichen- bach. These events are more fully dealt with elsewhere, but a brief summaiy seems needed here. In the autumn of 1787 Turkey declared war against Russia; and the alliance between Russia and Austria became effective; and on December 17,1788, the fortress of Oczakoff was taken by Potemkin after a long siege, with great loss of life. Belgrade fell before the Austrians on October 9,1789. The Ottoman Empire seemed tottering to its fall, and was only saved by the death of Joseph II, who had made the alliance with Catharine. On January 30,1790, just before the Em­peror’s death, Prussia had concluded an offensive and defensive alliance with the Porte. It was arranged that in the spring a Turkish army should invade Austrian territory from the side of Bosnia, while a Prussian army

advanced from the north. Joseph was not ignorant of this combination, and wrote to Loudon that he expected to be attacked both by Poland and Prussia. He made preparations for resistance. An army 130,000 strong was stationed in Bohemia and Moravia, 100,000 men were massed on the defensive in the Banat, and 30,000 in Galicia. Belgium appeared to be lost; Hungary and Poland were ready for revolution ; the mind of the Emperor turned towards peace. But on February 20, 1790, he died, a broken-hearted man, conscious of a wasted life.

A month after his accession, the new Emperor, Leopold II, wrote with his own hand to Frederick William of Prussia to propose peace; while England, who was connected with Prussia by the Triple Alliance, declared that she had no desire to weaken Austria, would be satisfied with a peace on the basis of the status quo, and would only assist Prussia if she were attacked. The dream of Hertzberg, the acquisition of Danzig and Thom by Prussia in exchange for Galicia, which Austria was to surrender to Poland, began to fade away. The answer, however, sent by Frederick William to Leopold was not very satisfactory; and in June a Prussian army began to assemble in Silesia. The King joined it at Schonwalde on June 18, and told the Emperor that he was determined to make war unless his demand for the cession of Galicia was complied with. Leopold was therefore compelled to mobilise an army to act against Prussia. England was at this time embarrassed by the affair of Nootka Sound, and was anxious to avoid further complications in Europe. Pitt also had no wish for the aggrandisement of Prussia, and peace was in the forefront of his policy. So when the representatives of Holland and England came to Reichenbach they declared that they would sup­port nothing but a peace on the basis of the status quo. Lucchesini, the Prussian minister, was summoned from Warsaw, and informed the King that Poland would never consent to the surrender of Danzig and Thom. The King, ever subject to gusts of feeling, suddenly changed his policy, threw over Hertzberg, and determined to make peace. The status quo was accepted, and the convention of Reichenbach was signed on July 27, 1790. Austria agreed to give up all her conquests in the late war with the Porte; and it was understood that similar sacrifices should be imposed upon Russia. The policy of Reichenbach, which averted a war between Prussia and Austria, was another triumph for the Triple Alliance and for Pitt.

The Treaty of Sistova between Austria and the Porte was signed on August 30, 1791, but peace was not restored to Europe. The allied Powers had promised the Porte at Reichenbach that peace should be made on the principle of the status quo a/nte beUum, that is, on the basis of a mutual restitution of conquests. This would have compelled Russia to surrender Oczakoff, which had been won at such a great sacrifice of life and had given so much glory to Potemkin. Catharine could not bring herself to make this surrender, and so the war continued. At the

beginning of March, 1791, Frederick William wrote to Sultan Selim that he was ready to declare war against Russia if she would not make peace; and we find in the memoranda of the Duke of Leeds that Cabinets were held on March 21 and 22 at which it was decided to send a fleet to the Baltic and a squadron to the Black Sea for the same object. Grenville was opposed to these measures and preferred to increase the armaments at home. However, a Cabinet minute was drawn up and delivered to the King on March 25 agreeing to inform the King of Prussia that a fleet of from 35 to 40 sail would be sent into the Baltic, and a squadron of 10 or 12 ships of the line into the Black Sea to assist the Turks and to combine with the advance of the Prussian troops on the frontiers of Livonia, and also to present an ultimatum to, the Court of St Petersburg. The messenger bearing these documents was despatched to Berlin on March 27. Two days later a message was sent to Parliament, and the address in answer to it was carried by a large majority in both Houses. Fox, however, was strenuous in opposition; and Ministers began to doubt whether the country would ever support a war with Russia. At a Cabinet held on March 30, the Duke of Richmond, Lord Strafford, and Lord Grenville, seemed to think that a change of plan was desirable, whereas the Lord Chancellor, Lord Chatham, Pitt, and the Duke of Leeds, were opposed to any alteration. On the next day Pitt had a long conversation with the Duke of Leeds, and told him that several members attached to the government had voted against the address in the House of Commons, and that the feeling of the Opposition was rising. The Duke said that if there were any change of policy he would resign. Pitt replied that he felt not only for him but with him; but he urged the consequences which the breaking up of the Ministry might produce to the country in general and to the King in particular. The rest of the Cabinet were sent for. Lord Strafford declared that he had not slept all night, but pronounced himself against action, in which he was followed by the Duke of Rich­mond and Lord Grenville. Lord Camden was neutral. At the close of the conversation it became certain that a change of policy was inevitable. The Cabinet met again in the evening, and sat through the night. At 3 a.m. on April 1, a despatch was drafted by Pitt and signed, somewhat reluctantly, by the Duke of Leeds, asking for a temporary delay, the reasons for which should be explained later.

The opposition of the country to a war with Russia became every day more pronounced; and Pitt was in receipt of further information which made him less averse to accepting a compromise. The dispute between England and Russia turned, as we have said, on the surrender of OczakofF. Lord Auckland, the intimate friend of Pitt, was at this time British Minister at the Hague. He was the most trusted and one of the most able of the English diplomats of his generation; and all the threads of the diplomacy of Europe passed through his hands. He was strongly opposed to our going to war with Russia, and indeed to any war at all.

He writes to Lord Grenville, “It is to me wonderful that any man possessing any object whatever of honour, property, or security in any established government under the sun, can incline to increase the con­fusion of the world in a moment like the present. Internal tranquillity seems to me to be a consideration, which, with the example of France before our eyes, ought to supersede ill others.” The cooperation of Holland was necessary for a war against Russia; and it was doubtful whether the Dutch desired war. The Dutch admiral Kinbergen, well acquainted with the coasts of the Black Sea, wrote a memoir demon­strating that Oczakoff was of little importance compared with Sebastopol. Pitt, after careful consideration, determined to propose to Catharine that she should retain Oczakoff, but that the fortifications should be razed; and despatches drafted in this sense were laid before the Cabinet on April 15. The Duke of Leeds refused to sign them, and permission was given by the King for Grenville to sign instead. Six days later the Duke resigned the seals of the Foreign Office, and they were given to Lord Grenville, the King saying to him that he was influenced in his choice by the knowledge of his decided opinion how essential peace was to the welfare of the country. Though the fortifications of Oczakoff were not actually razed, peace resulted from this proposal; and Oczakoff is now of little importance.

The Treaty of Jassy was signed on January 9, 1792; and the con­clusion of the war between Russia and the Porte set the seal to Pitt’s aspirations for the settlement of Europe. But for one dark cloud, the significance of which was not yet fully apparent, a statesman might suppose that the peace of the world and the predominance of England was secured for at least a generation. When Pitt became Prime Minister England was isolated, nearly bankrupt, and of no account. In eight years of marvellous government he had reestablished the finances of his country, had killed the canker of smuggling, had made a firm alliance with two progressive Powers, disregarding the advice of his Foreign Minister to connect himself with the military despotisms of the north. By a commercial treaty with France he had laid the foundations of a friendly understanding, with our hereditary enemy. At the risk of war he had crushed the blundering and untoward ambition of Spain, and prevented, by a rare prescience, the natural expansion of Canada from being thwarted in a vital point. By a firm countenance at Reichenbach he had stopped a war between Austria and Prussia, and had then, partly by persuasion and partly by a show of force, constrained warring nations to clasp hands, Sweden and Russia at Werela, Austria and the Porte at Sistova, Russia and the Porte at Jassy. At little over thirty years of age the young Minister could look with pride on a pacified Europe and a dominant England, which no one could now say was over­shadowed by the preponderance of France. But vain are the previsions of man! In a moment this fair fabric was to be swept i away by a

cataclysm. The character of the Minister was to be ehaiiged and his reputation to be tarnished. As Macaulay tells us, the man whose name, if he had died in 1792, would have been associated with peace, with freedom and philanthropy, with temperate reform, with mild and constitutional administration, lived to associate his name v,' Mi arbitrary government, with harsh laws harshly executed, and with the most costly and most sanguinary wars of modem times. ¹ He lived to be held up to jbloquy as the stem oppressor of England and the indefatigable disturber of Europe. All this arose from the war with revolutionary Prance, which was declared against England by the French on February 1, 1793* and continued, with a short break, till 1815, nine years after Pitt had been laid in his grave.

We see from the letter of George III quoted above—and this view might be enforced by abundant evidence—that the policy of England had been to enforce a strict neutrality from the first outbreak of the Revo­lution. England knew nothing of the Declaration of Pillnitz; when re­quested in 1791 to join a coalition against France, she had positively refused to do so. She was one of the first to recognise the Constitution of 1791. In 1792 she took measures for reducing her armaments by sea and land; and, when France declared against the Emperor, she took every pains to assert her neutrality. Six months later she rejected overtures from the French Princes for simila; reasons. In July, 1792, when war had broken out, and the French government wished Great Britain to mediate in the interests of peace, Chauvelin, the French ambassador, was informed that the King desired to preserve the present harmony, that he would never refuse to help in making peace, but that his intervention in the present state of war would be of no use unless it were done at the request of all the parties interested. His attitude of absolute neutrality was main­tained up to August 10. Grenville wrote to Lord Gower on August 9 that Great Britain had been strictly neutral during the last four years, and that any departure from this attitude would only commit the King’s name in a business in which he had hitherto kept himself unengaged, without any reasonable ground of its producing a good effect. With this view Pitt completely agreed.

The friendly character of the relations between the two governments is further shown by the instructions which the Marquis de Chauvelin received, when sent as ambassador to England, the document being dated April 19,1792. Although Chauvelin was the official head of the French Mission, the most important member of it was Talleyrand, Bishop of Autun, who was debarred from open recognition as having been a member of the ConstUuante. Chauvelin was instructed to secure, not only the neutrality of E gland,¹ but if possible her friendship and alliance. He was charged to use every argument to keep England out of the coalition against France, and to induce her to join in a mutual guarantee of each other’s possessions. He was to propose a continuation of the

1792]

Lord Gower recalled.

291

Commercial Treaty of 1786. He was, if possible, to obtain a loan of £3,000,000 or <£*4,000,000 under the guarantee of the English govern­ment, and was to offer in return the cession of the island of Tobago, which had been for twenty years (1763-83) under British rule, and was in consequence very largely inhabited by English.

After August 10 tbe aspect of affairs was entirely changed. Louis was a prisoner in the Temple, and the royal authority was in abeyance. The impression which these events made upon the English government may be gauged by the effect which they produced upon Chauvelin himself. He wrote to Lord Grenville that criminal and dis­astrous events had taken place in Paris, that-the security of the National Assembly had been violated, that men of violent passions had led the multitude astray. He begged the King of England to use all his influ­ence to prevent the armies of the enemy from invading French ter. fcory, giving occasion for new excesses, and compromising still further tbe liberty, the safety, and even the existence of the King and his family. No sooner had he sent this despatch than he discovered b mistake. He called on Pitt, with much agitation, and requested that the note might be returned to him and never mentioned. It was returned; but a copy was first taken.

It can scarcely be wondered that under these circumstances the Cabinet determined to recall Lord Gower from Paris. Grenville was not present at the Council; but Pitt, Richmond, Chatham, Hawkesbury, and Dundas, all agreed. The language they used was dignified: “ Under the present circumstances, as it appears that the executive power has been withdrawn from His Most Christian Majesty, the credentials under which your ex­cellency has hitherto acted can be no longer available; and His Majesty judges it proper on this account, as well as conformable to the principle of neutrality which His Majesty has hitherto observed, that you should no longer remain at Paris. It is therefore His Majesty’s pleasure that you should quit it and repair to England as soon as you conveniently can after procuring the necessary passports. In conversation, state that His Majesty intends to remain neutral as to the internal government of France; that it is no deviation from this that he should manifest his solicitude for the personal situation of Their Most Christian Majesties, and that he earnestly and anxiously hopes they will at least be secure from any acts of violence, which could not fail to produce one universal sentiment of indignation through every country in Europe.” In a circular to foreign ministers, dated August 21, George III again asserted his neutrality; and Lebrun, writing from Paris on August 23, although regretting Lord Gower’s recall, declared himself glad to receive the King’s assurance.

George III was quite in agreement with the views of his Cabinet in the recall of Lord Gower, and was of opinion that the effect produced on the mind of Chauvelin by the events of August 10 was an additional justification for the step. He writes from Weymouth, August 18,4 p.m.,

“ The drafts to Lord Gower arid Mr Lindsay transmitted to me by Mr Secretary Dundas, which were drawn in consequence of a Cabinet meeting, have my fullest approbation. I perfectly subscribe to the opinion that the note delivered by Mr Chauvelin renders the measures more necessary. I see no objection to the sending copies of them to him with a note acknowledging the receipt of his note.” If Lord Gower had been con­tinued in Paris new credentials must have been made out, and the government to which they were addressed must have been recognised by the British government. But there was no government in France which we could recognise at that time. The Executive Council was only pro­visional ; the King was only provisionally suspended from his functions; the Legislative Assembly was on the point of dissolution, and the National Convention was not yet summoned. The question, whether we should or should not have opened diplomatic relations with the French Republic when it was duly constituted, is quite distinct from the question whether we should have kept an ambassador in Paris when all govern­ment was in a state of transition and flux. The ambassadors of nearly all the other Powers left Paris at the same time. If Great Britain had not recalled her ambassador in August it is not probable that she would have allowed him to remain after the massacre of September, especially when it is considered that the Duke of Dorset had left Paris in 1789 from apprehensions of his personal safety.

Although Lord Gower was recalled from Paris, Chauvelin still remained in London. It has been said that, although he was disowned by Ministers, he knew himself to be on good terms with the Opposition, and that he stayed in England that he might be a centre of intrigue. His despatches give little countenance to this' idea; and Talleyrand was too well acquainted with the principles of party government in England to have given it his approval; When war between England and France became imminent, Chauvelin held some communication with the Opposi­tion by means of Sheridan, who visited h m secretly. But, so long as there was a hope of peace and even of alliance between the two countries, his object was to avoid all suspicion of the kind. His real fear was lest, if he asked permission to present his letters of recall, the King should refuse to receive him, and thus the rupture would be brought about which he and his employers were most anxious to avoid. He writes to the Foreign Minister, Lebrun, on August 31, “It would be natural to recall me, as the English have recalled Lord Gower, and I should be glad to go, but let me make the following observation. Lord Gower’s recall is due only to the motive of dMicatesse monarchique. We have no such reason; we wish to preserve the best intelligence with England. Besides Mr Lindsay remains. It might be difficult for you to draw up my letters of recall, or for me to present them. How very bad if I were refused an audience ! what a triumph for our enemies! All the friends we have in England are agreed upon this point.”

The King stayed at Weymouth from the middle of August to the end of September, during which time home politics were in abeyance, but events were moving rapidly in France. On September 20 the cannonade of Valmy announced, as Goethe said to those who heard it, the birth of a new era; on October 23 a salvo of artillery all along the French frontier celebrated the liberation of the soil of France from the invading enemy; before the end of September the French armies had marched across the border. Nice was taken on September 28, Speier on September 30. The attacked became the aggressors; and the new Republic entered upon a victorious course of mingled conquest and propaganda. These successes did not appear to affect British interests until Dumouriez began to overrun Belgium. The battle of Jemappes was fought on November 6; and on November 14 the capture of Brussels laid the whole of the Austrian Netherlands at his feet. These victories encouraged the French to take a higher tone. Chauvelin, who had avoided going to Court lest he should be badly received, now asked his government for credentials as Minister of the Republic. He wrote to Lebrun on November 3, that the time had come to treat openly with England, and that he wished for positive instructions. It was possible that Britain might overlook the conquest of Belgium, but the slightest attempt upon Holland must summon her to arms. The French, how­ever, so little understood the real nature of the crisis, that Maret, arriving in England on November 8, having just quitted the victorious Dumouriez, told Chauvelin that the General had spoken with a light heart of throwing a few shells into Maastricht; but Chauvelin had sense enough to point out that this would make war with England inevitable.

Maret, writing from London, explains the situation to Lebrun. He urges him to warn Dumouriez that if he attacks Holland it will certainly mean war with England. He says that war is dreaded by the City, even if the government desire to distract the attention of the people from domestic affairs, and that Dumouriez, as a “philosopher-general,” will not be insensible to these arguments: that he will prefer the hope of a general peace to an additional triumph. He adds, with cynical acuteness: “ Whether the state of our finances makes it impossible for us to go to war, or the fear of letting loose upon society a mob of the unemployed by disbanding our armies makes peace impossible, in either case the attitude of England towards us is of the first importance. If we wish for peace, let us make an alliance with England ; if we desire war, let us attempt to form a connexion which will diminish the number of our enemies, and which may embroil England with Spain. Chauvelin, good fellow as he is, is impossible here. Send Barthelemy as ambassador extraordinary, and someone else as subordinate agent. I should be very happy to take this post. Nominate Chauvelin to some first-rate position. Noel could replace Barthelemy in Switzerland.” If this advice had been

adopted—and such was very nearly being the case—peace between the two countries would most probably have been preserved.

We now come to the two acts of the French government which formed . the strongest grievance on the English side, and which are generally considered as the true causes of the war: the decree of November 19, and the opening of the navigation of the Scheldt. The decree of November 19 was passed, apparently in great haste, under the following circumstances. In the middle of the sitting, Ruhl rose and stated that the district of Darmstadt, which by the Treaty of Ryswick ought to belong to France, had assumed the national cockade and asked to become French. The Duke of Zweibriicken had sent an army to stop the movement. “The citizens of the duchy of Limburg in the district of Darmstadt ask our protection against the invasion of the despots. Also the Club of the Friends of Liberty and Equality, established at Mayence, have written to ask whether you will grant protection to the people of Mayence, or abandon them to the mercy of the despots who threaten them.” He ended with these words, “ Je demande, moi, que vous declariez que les peuples qui voudront Jratemiser avec nous serontproteges par la nation Franqaise” This proposition, it will be seen, is merely defensive. Fermont moved that the proposition of Ruhl be referred to the Diplomatic Committee, which ought to determine Whether France should not only protect but guarantee the liberty of the neighbouring peoples, and this proposition was supported by Legendre. Brissot said that the Diplomatic Committee was intending to report on this subject on the Friday following. When Ruhl urged the cause of the “people of Mayence,” Brissot asked that the principle of the decree should be voted immediately. At last, Larevelliere-Lepeaux, that distinguished member of the Directory, who complained that it was so hard to found a new religion to take the place of Christianity, proposed and carried the following decree: “ La Convention Nationals declare au nom de la Nation Frangaise qu’elle accordera Jraternite et secours a tous les peuples qui voudront recouvrer lew liberty, et charge le pouvobr eoccactif de donner aux generaux les ordres nicessaires pour porter secours a ces peuples et defendre les dtoyens qui auraient ete vexes, ou qui pourraient Vetre pour la came de la liberty.” Sergent then proposed that this decree should be translated and printed in all languages. The Convention then proceeded to other business. Such is the history of this famous decree. A few isolated facts reported by a member were made the occasion for asserting a number of generalities; and the decree, hastily passed, went even beyond the intention of those who proposed it.

The second grievance of the English government against the Republic was the opening of the Scheldt by the French on their occupation of Belgium. Britain appealed on the one side to the law of nations, they on the other to the law of nature. Both these appeals may be dis­regarded. The treaty of 1788 bound us to protect the Dutch possessions

from attack or from the threat of attack. But in this instance the Dutch did not protest against French action, nor did they call upon us for assistance. It was a matter with which we had no immediate concern. In fact, negotiations were being opened between the Dutch and a French envoy at the time when the war eventually broke out. The idea of opening the Scheldt to commerce was not new. It had been, as we have seen, threatened by Joseph II, and was only laid aside in consequence of French persuasion. We had offered to support the pretensions of the Emperor if he would give up his alliance with France. This had been done while Pitt was Prime Minister. It was scarcely reasonable to regard as an insult to England, when adopted by one Power, the policy which we had ourselves favoured in the case of another. The opening of the Scheldt was announced to Chauvelin by Lebrun on November 27. He says: “No injury is done to the rights of the Dutch. Our reasons are that the river takes its rise in France, and that a nation which has obtained its liberty cannot recognise a system of feudalism, much less submit to it.”

On the very date of the decree, November 19, Chauvelin wrote to Lord Grenville asking for a few moments’ conversation, at any time or in any place he might appoint, either in town or country. Grenville replied stiffly on the 21st, saying that he must, under the circumstances, request M. Chauvelin to explain the object of the conference he desires. Chauvelin wrote on the following day, that he thought the proposed interview would have produced favourable results, but that if Lord Grenville thinks otherwise he will not insist upon it. A week later Grenville wrote that he would not'refuse the conversation, and appointed a meeting at the Foreign Office on the next day at noon. In this interview Chauvelin said that circumstances changed rapidly in France; hence he could only say now that when he made his first request he was aathorised to contradict the reports which prevailed in London of an intention of the French to attack Holland; that he could then have renewed the assurances which he had before given of his country’s dis­position to respect the neutral Powers, but that since this he had seen the note delivered by Lord Auckland to the States General, and had yesterday heard that two French ships had been fired at by the Dutch in the Scheldt. He could not say what effect such an aggression on the part of the Dutch might produce, but that the most earnest wish of all the French was to cultivate peace and friendship with England. He spoke of the opening of the Scheldt as a thing determined upon; that it was a natural right which the French had acquired by the conquest of Brabant. He endeavoured to obtain an admission, expressed or implied, that the treaty between England and Holland did not extend to that point. Grenville answered that he would have liked more positive assurances, but that the King was resolved to maintain inviolate all the rights of his country, and those of its allies.

The main object of the French government at this time was that England should recognise the Republic. If this were done, everything could be arranged. Maret, afterwards the trusted servant of Napoleon, was in London at this time, and has left us an account of two interviews, one with William Smith, a Liberal member of Parliament, and the other with Pitt himself. From the first he derived the impression that England had negotiated with Spain, of which no evidence exists in the Record Office; that Pitt was extremely reluctant to go to war, which was true; and that the recognition of the French Republic was not at all unlikely, which was true also. At the second interview, Pitt began by speaking of his fear about Holland, of his determination to support the allies of England, and to enforce the rigorous execution of treaties which united her with other Powers. He expressed a sincere desire to avoid a war which would be fatal to the repose and to the prosperity of the two nations, and asked if the same desire was shared by the French government. Maret gave satisfactory assurances of this; and Pitt said that, if the French government would authorise someone to confer with the English Cabinet, someone with whom they could communicate cordially and frankly, they would be disposed to listen to him and to treat him with cordiality and confidence. Maret said that in this case England would have to recognise the Republic; but Pitt replied that this course must be avoided, as Maret thought, to spare the susceptibilities of the King. Pitt added, “ Do not reject this offer and we will examine everything carefully.” Maret said that he would urge Lebrun to send someone. Pitt replied, “Why not yourself? Write at once to Paris; moments are precious.” This Maret promised to do. Pitt again spoke of Holland; and, as Maret was going- away, Pitt called him back and referred to the question of the Scheldt. Maret avoided discussion upon this point, and Pitt mentioned the decree of November 19. Maret explained that it only applied to Powers at war with France; upon which Pitt cried, “If an interpretation of this kind were possible the effect would be excellent.” Maret assured Pitt that the government had nothing to do with the decree; that it was the work of a few exalted spirits made in a burst of enthusiasm, and without discussion. Pitt concluded by urging Maret not to lose a moment in communicating with Lebrun. We learn from this that at the beginning of December peace was quite possible; that it was ardently desired by Pitt; that the burning question was the invasion of Holland; and that other matters might have been satisfactorily arranged.

Miles wrote on December 3 that he had found Maret affable, frank, and communicative, that he had been well received by Pitt, who appeared to be equally well pleased with him. Their conversation had been very long, and Maret had assured Pitt that instructions had been sent to Dumouriez to be circumspect in his conduct towards the Dutch, and to make no attack either on the sovereignty, or the privileges, or the

independence of that people. The next day, however, Maret said to Miles, in a fit of despair, “Peace is out of the question. We have 300,000 men in arms. We must make them march as far as their legs will carry them, or they will return and cut our throats.” Still efforts were made on both sides which might have been successful. On December 7 Lebrun determined to move Chauvelin to the Hague, and to authorise Maret to treat secretly with the English government. He presented his project to the Cornell Executif Provisoire, but it was rejected. Further conference with Pitt was not declined; but Chauvelin, the accredited Minister, was to be the medium. On the English side, the resumption of diplomatic relations with France was pressed upon the government by the Opposition, and was the subject of a special motion by Fox. We find in the Record Office the imperfect drafts of two letters, probably intended for Mr Lindsay. The first letter says: “It having been judged advisable by the King’s servants that you should proceed to Paris with a view to the opening of such a communication and to the obtaining such explanations as appear highly important at the present moment for the general advantage of Europe, as well as for the interests of this country and of France, I have thought it right to entrust you with this letter, which you may show as your authority for entering into all such conferences and discussions as may be necessary for these purposes.” The second letter recommends to the particular attention of the envoy the procuring the best possible information about the real state of France; the condition of the interior of the Provinces, that of Paris, the degree of stability which the republican form of government may appear to have acquired from the late successes, the disposition, character, and weight of the persons who conduct the public measures in the Council and the Convention, the state and amount of their naval preparations, and their prospects in point of finance. The envoy is also to provide for secret inteUigence in case of war.

Events moved rapidly towards war. The condition of Europe made it advisable to call out the militia; and Parliament, which by statute must be summoned soon after this measure, met on December 13. The next day, Maret, by the advice of Miles, had a second interview with Pitt; but the Minister declined to discuss State affairs, or to give any answer as to whether he would see Chauvelin. On December 27 Chauvehn communicated to Grenville the explanations which Lebrun had ordered him to present. He says that, by the decree of November 19, the National Convention never meant that the Republic should espouse the quarrels of a few seditious persons, or should endeavour to excite disturbances in any neutral or friendly country. The decree is only applicable to those people, who, after having acquired their liberty by conquest, may have demanded the fraternity and the assistance of the Republic by the solemn and unequivocal expression of the general will. France undertakes not to attack Holland so long as she confines herself

within the limits of an exact neutrality. The opening of the Scheldt cannot with any justice be made a cams belli.

The answer, dated December 81, bears throughout the stamp of the stern and haughty.style of William Pitt. It states that in the decree of November 19 all England saw the formal declaration of a design to extend universally the new principles adopted in France, and to encourage disorder and revolt in all countries, even in those which are neutral. “ England cannot consider such an explanation as satisfactory, but must look upon it as a fresh avowal of those dispositions which she sees with so just an uneasiness and jealousy. With regard to the Scheldt, France can have no right to annul existing stipulations, unless she also have the right to set aside equally the other treaties, between all Powers of Europe, and all the other rights of England arid her allies. She can have no pretence to interfere in the question of opening the Scheldt, unless she were the sovereign of the Low Countries, Or had the right to dictate laws to Europe. England will never consent that France shall arrogate the power of annulling at her pleasure, and under the pretence of a pretended natural right, of which sht makes herself the only judge, the political system of Europe, established by solemn treaties and guaranteed hy the consent of all the Powers. This government, adhering to the ma ’ms which it has followed for more than a century, will also never see with indifference that France shall make herself, either directly Or indirectly, the sovereign of the Low Countries, or general arbiter of the rights and liberties of Europe. If France is really desirous of maintaining peace and friendship with England, she must show herself disposed to renounce her views of aggression and aggrandisement, and to confine herself within her own territory, without insulting other governments, without disturbing their tranquillity, without violating their rights.” In these sentences is contained the whole case of England against the encroachments of the Revolution and the conquests of Napoleon.

We leam from Miles that Chauvelin dreaded going back to Paris, and urged the Executive Council to insist upon his being received and acknowledged as Minister Plenipotentiary from the Republic. His letters of credence were despatched on January 7, 1793, and an interview was accorded. Grenville said that he must refer the matter to his colleagues; and on January 20 Chauvelin received a reply which must have removed any lingering doubt. He had written to ask, first, whether his letters of credence would be received; and, secondly, whether the provisions of the Alien Act were to apply to him or not; even in his present position, to regard him as subject to this law, would be an insult to his nation. Lord Grenville answers that his letters of credence cannot be received; that, as Minister from the Most Christian King, he would have enjoyed all the exemptions which the law grants to public Ministers, but that, as a private person, he cannot but return to the general mass of foreigners

resident in England. Louis XVI was executed on January 21, the news reached London at five o’clock on January 23. On the following day Chauvelin was peremptorily bidden by an Order in Council to leave the kingdom. He wrote on receiving the order that it was an unexpected step, and would certainly be regarded as a declaration for war.

If the government had waited a little longer this measure would have been unnecessary, for, on January 22, Chauvelin had been ordered by his own government to leave London without delay. Dumouriez had persuaded the Executive Council to recall him, and to send Maret in his place, with a view to Dumouriez proceeding himself to England at a later period. Chauvelin met the courier conveying this despatch at Blackheath. It ordered him to send a note to Lord Grenville, saying that the French are still willing to avoid a rupture, and to preserve a good intelligence; but this was now out of the question. Maret passed Chauvelin on the way from Paris to Calais, close to Montreuil. He and his servants were asleep in their carriages and did not notice Chauvelin’s liveries, so that it was not until his arrival at Dover on the 29th that he heard of Chauvelin’s dismissal. Whatever instructions had been given to him were now useless. Maret reached London on January 30. On the following day he told Miles that France would relinquish the Scheldt in a manner perfectly satisfactory to England, would give up Nice and Mainz, renounce the Belgic Provinces, and find a method which would release Savoy: from being any longer a part of French territory; she would also withdraw her troops from Belgium, and consent to a general peace, provided that the Powers would defray in part the expenses of the war. Maret was to offer himself as negotiator, in the first instance, to arrange the terms, and that, when he had settled these with the British ministry, Dumouriez, who he hoped would be well received, would receive full powers to sign and exchange; that the object of his mission was peace with England.

Maret, not knowing what effect the dismissal of Chauvelin might have in France, resolved not to demand an interview with Pitt until fresh instructions arrived from Paris. He therefore contented himself with sending a note to Lord Grenville to announce his arrival in England. In the meantime Chauvelin had reached Paris, and his report decided the vacillating Committee. On February 1 war was declared by the French against England and Holland. On February 9 George III wrote to Lord Grenville as follows: “ The confirmation of the step taken by the faction that governs in France, of jointly declaring war against this kingdom and the Dutch Republic, is highly agreeable to me, as the mode adopted seems well calculated to rouse such a spirit in this country, that I trust will curb the insolence of those despots, and be a means of restoring some degree of order to that unprincipled country, whose aim at present is to destroy the foundations of every civilised State.”

CHAPTER XI.

THE EUROPEAN POWERS AND THE EASTERN QUESTION.

- The iighteenth century witnessed a number of changes of the first magnitude in the international relations of Europe;' At the very beginning of the century Spain, deprived'of the Netherlands and of its Italian provinces, passed from the House of Habsburg, which had held it for.nearly two centuries, to a youhger line of the Bourbons." After an interval of alienation the new dynasty ■■ became a partner in a family compact which made Spain the more or less subservient ally of France. Almost at the same time a curiously similar decline is to be traced in the United Provinces, which had risen to extraordinary prominence, and had developed a military and naval power out of all proportion to their in­ternal resources, first in a successful rebellion against Spanish domination, and later in an equally brilliant struggle against the aggressive policy of France.; While Spain became bound to France by dynastic ties and by common antagonism to England, the Dutch Rfepublic came to depend for its security upon the support and guidance of Great Britain. Thus > two of the great. Powers of the seventeenth century sank in the eighteenth to the position of minor States.

These changes in the south and wefet were accompanied or followed by., equally momentous and unforeseen changes- in the north and east. Prussia under Frederick the Great was enabled by a great demonstration of military strength and skill not only to dispute with Austria the hegemony in Germany, but to assume a place among the dominant States of Europe. Sweden, which for nearly a century, had been the strongest and most adventurous of the Baltic Powers, fell after the death of the last of her warrior Kings under the rule of a selfish and factious oligarchy. Her inevitable decline under these conditions was accelerated by the rapid rise of an eastern State which had hitherto been regarded as semi-barbarous and practically outside the European system. That Russia, in spite of the frequency of domestic quarrels and dynastic revolutions during the forty years which followed the death of Peter the Great} should yet have become at the dose of those years the most powerful and influential State in Europe, is one of the most surprising

1756-90] European relations in the eighteenth century. 307

facts in the history of the . eighteenth century. Nor! is surprise lessened by the consideration that this development was regarded with jealous misgivings by all the other Powers of Europe except England, and that Russia reached the zenith of her importance under the rule of a sovereign who was not a' Russian by birth, or breeding, but a princess of a petty German Court, who came to the country as the wife of the heir to the throne and ascended that throne on thie murder of her husband, When the circumstances of Catharine ITs origin and accession are taken into account, she must be placed even above Frederick the Great as the most t'emarkable and successful ruler of her generation. '

The series of political changes was completed by the termination in 1756 of the long-continued animosity between France arid Austria, and the conclusion!of that unequal and uneasy alliance between the two States which the marriage of Marie-Antoinette with the ill-fated Louis XVI was intended to strengthen. From this time is to;be noted a complete, shifting of the centre of gravity in- European politics from the west to the east., It is true that the rivalry of England arid France continued; but this rivalry was mainly non-European, though it had some bearing on continental politics*! partly owing to the complicated relations in which France was involved by her past history,: and partly because the English King was also a German Elector. But apart from this, a survivor' from the seventeenth century, or even from the days of the Spanish Succession War, could hardly have traced any familiar landmarks in the years from 1756 to 1790. The old battle-grounds in Italy and the Netherlands were left in perfect peace. The main strings of diplomacy were no longer pulled from Versailles, Madrid, and the ,Hague, but from St Petersburg, Berlin, and Vienna. Even France, so long the predominant State 'n Europe, fell comparatively into the background.;

This was no doubt partly due to the military disasters and humiliation of the Seven Years’ War; but it was also the result of the radically false position in which France was placed by her adhesion to an obsolete line of policy in Eastern Europe. For generations it had. been the interest of France to hamper -the action of Austria by ,maintaining a close connexion with the Powers which were most immediately hostile to Habsburg aggrandisement. - Sweden, Poland, and Turkey, had been moved, sometimes singly* sometimes more or less collectively, as French pawns in the great, game of international politics. It is obvious at a glance how completely the value of these pieces was altered by the appearance of Russia on the board. Sweden blocked Russia’s way to the Baltic; Poland stood between Russia and central Europe; Turkey held the provinces which Russia must conquer before she could expand to the Black Sea and the Mediterranean. Every step which Russia took in advance was taken at the expense of one or other of these client States .of France ; and every such step diminished their utility to their western patron. A great statesman might have found an escape from the

awkward dilemma in which' France was placed by Russian progress. But the ministers who guided the destinies of France in the earlier half of the eighteenth centuiy could do nothing but cling blindly to past traditions. Yet French intervention did nothing but harm to Sweden and Poland, and in 1739 only succeeded in postponing the partition of Turkey. On the other hand French hostility drove Russia into a somewhat unnatural alliance with Austria, which lasted almost con­tinuously from 1726 to 1762 and produced many momentous conse­quences to Europe. The climax of confusion was reached when the second Treaty of Versailles in 1757 brought France into actual co­operation with the Power which she had so long and so ineffectually endeavoured to check. As the ally of Austria and indirectly of France, Russia occupied Polish Prussia during the Seven Years’ War, in defiance of the traditional policy which France had hitherto pursued. And yet that traditional policy continued to be maintained by the French Foreign Office. The penalty for such folly and indecision was incurred in the first Partition of Poland, which annihilated French influence and prestige in Eastern Europe.

It was in the reign of Catharine II that the Eastern Question became for the first time the main pivot of European politics. The need of gaining the affection of her Russian subjects compelled her to pose as the enthusiastic champion of the Greek Church, and to carry on the traditional Russian policy of expansion in the direction of Poland and Turkey. From the first she gained striking and rapid successes. She secured the Polish crown for Stanislas Poniatowski; she frustrated the attempt to restore Polish independence by a reform of the anarchical constitution; she enforced the acceptance of the Partition of 1772; and she extorted from the defeated and exhausted Turks the Treaty of Kutschuk Kainardji, which gave independence to the Tartar Khanates of the Crimea and the Kuban, and recognised Russia as the champion of the Christian subjects of the Porte. The series of triumphs, which gave to Catharine a dominant voice in the affairs of Europe, was due to the adroit use which she made of the bitter enmity between Austria and Prussia. A combination o£ her two powerful neighbours would have been fatal to Catharine’s schemes; and she did all in her power, first to prevent such an alliance, and later, when it was actually formed, to divert its attention to a scene of action as far as possible distant from Russia. But for a lortg time such an alliahce seemed to be removed from practical politics, partly because of inevitably jarring interests in Germany, and partly owing to the memory of that desperate struggle for Silesia which had persisted through two great European wars. So long as this animosity lasted—and it seemed likely to endure as long as the quarrel between England and France—Catharine’s policy was to play off one State against the other by bribing each alternately to become her accomplice. It was this adroit but unscrupulous policy which familiarised Europe

1764-80]

The Russian alliance with Prussia.

309

with the later conception of the Balance of Power; namely, that the great States might freely annex the territory of their lesser neighbours, provided their acquisitions were of equal extent or value. The precedent established in the successive partitions of Poland was only too faithfully followed in many readjustments of the political map during the wars with revolutionary Prance.        ;

Of the two Powers with which Catharine had more immediately to deal, Austria, as the ruler of a large Slav population, had the more direct interest in opposing the growth of a great Slav empire on her immediate frontier. Maria Theresa in her later years was keenly conscious of this danger, and desired alike to support Poland as a buffer State and to maintain the integrity of Turkey. Catharine was thus driven to turn to Prussia, and in 1764 concluded with Frederick a defensive treaty for eight years, which was afterwards renewed for a similar period. This alliance led her to support Prussia in opposing the claims of Austria to the Bavarian Succession; and the Treaty of Teschen, which in 1779 repudiated these claims, was concluded under the guarantee of Russia. But Frederick, although the Russian alliance was rendered necessary to him by the exhaustion of his dominions after the agony of the Seven Years’ War, by the rupture with England which followed the fall of the elder Pitt, and by the impotence of France, was by no means a sub­servient or an enthusiastic supporter of Russian interests. On the con­trary, it was the general opinion of diplomatists that Prussian influence was dominant at St Petersburg, and that Count Panin, Catharine’s chief minister, was in receipt of regular pay from Frederick. In the first great crisis of Catharine’s reign, when her intervention in Poland led to the outhreak of a Turkish war (1768), Frederick had not hesitated to check Russian ambition by a significant parade of a possible approxi­mation between Prussia and Austria. In 1769 and 1770 he held his two famous interviews with Joseph II; and the risk of active opposition from Austria and of very inadequate support from Prussia greatly con­tributed towards inducing Catharine to consent to partition Poland, instead of adhering to her previous policy of making Poland a vassal of Russia. And at the same time Frederick had done little or nothing to prevent the one great reverse which Russian policy experienced, when the first coup d'etat of Gustavus III (1772) overthrew the Swedish oligarchy and freed the monarchy from the intolerable limitations im­posed upon it during the two previous reigns. Thus Catharine had good reason to doubt the utility of the Prussiar alliance; and the influence of Panin was gradually supplanted by that of Potemkin, who held out to his mistress the attractive scheme of extending Russian dominion to the mouths of the southern rivers, and of expelling the Turks to make room for a revived Greek empire in Constantinople. For such a scheme more strenuous support was needed than could be expected from Prussia. Frederick dep'red, not to aggrandise Russia, but to check

the restless ambition of Austria. With this end in view he actually proposed to include Turkey, and possibly either France or England, in a common league with Russia and Prussia. Panin could hardly hope to commend this plan to Catharine, nor could he even obtain a renewal of the Prussian alliance of 1764, which was to expire in

1780.    . „          :

At this juncture a favourable opportunity presented itself for renewing the former alliance between Russia and Austria. For many years there had been serious differences On both foreign and domestic politics in the Court of Vienna. Joseph II, who since his father’s. death in 1765 had been Emperor and joint ruler of the Austrian dominions, was by no means in accord with the cautious and conservative policy of his mother. He was eager to restore the prestige of'Austria, and to deprive Prussia of the pfroiid position to which it had so suddenly been raised. It is true that he admi r ed and consciously sought to imitate Frederick the Great; he did soj however, not slavishly, but in the spirit of a rival, who seeks to master the secret of another’s success in order that he may emulate and surpass his model. His domestic.reforms he had perforce to postpone till his mother’s death should give him, a free hand; but this made him all the more persistent in his foreign policy, in which he' was encouraged by the suppor of Kaunitz. The partition of Poland was repugnant both to the principles and to the; policy of Maria Theresa; but her scruples were overcome by the argumeiit that if Austria held aloof Poland would still be sacrificed, and Austria: would get nothing to counterbalance the gains of her rivals. In the end, on the express ground that it was not worth while to lose a reputation for honourable conduct on account of a petty profit, Austria succeeded in securing the richest share of the spoil. When Russia concluded the advantageous Treaty of Kutschuk Kainardj i, Austria consoled herself by. seizing the territory of the Bukowina, though she had no quarrel with, the , Turks, and had even promised three years before to maintain their cause. The chief responsibility for these discreditable transactions rests upon; Joseph'and Kaunitz ;_; and it was they who pre­pared and broiight forward the preposterous claims upon Bavaria on the extinction of the Bavarian branch of the House of Wittelsbach. But the repulse which they met with at:the Congress of Teschen convinced them that thieir plans could never prosper until they had dissolved the alliance between Russia and Prussia. This conviction was strengthened by the growing coolness between Austria and France. Vergennes, who became Foreign Minister on the accession of Louis XVI, had previously held the French embassy at Constantinople, and had there seen clearly the disas­trous results to French interests in the East which had resulted from the Treaty! of Versailles. A foremost object! of his administration was to free Fiance from :the excessive subservience to Austrian interests which had prevailed during the later-years of Louis XV. This determination was c’ sclosed to the world when - Louis XVI refused to countenance the

1780-4] Alliance between Russia arid Austria.                            311

Bavarian claims of his brother-in-law, and France joined with Russia in guaranteeing the Treaty of Teschen. , .

Thus by 1780 conditions were prepared for that Austro-Russian alliance which was a dominant factor in European politics for the next decade, and very nearly led to the outbreak of a great European war. In June, 1780, Joseph met, Catharine at Mohileff; and, in order to com­plete his acquaintance with the Russian Court, he subsequently followed the Czarina to St Petersburg. On November 29 the death of Maria Theresa removed the last obstacle in the way of a complete reversal of recent Austrian policy. In May, 1781, Joseph and Catharine exchanged formal letters, by which it was agreed that Austria should support Russia in compelling Turkey to fulfil its treaty obligations, and in case of war should employ an equal force either in coercing the Turks or in resisting any other Power which should interfere as their ally. Russia on the other hand was pledged to maintain the Pragmatic Sanction, and to defend the Austrian States against attack. With these mutual obligations was combined the agreement, that if either ally should gain any acquisition of territory the other should be entitled to an equivalent.

Frederick the Great was profoundly chagrincd at the turn which affairs had taken. The termination of his long alliance with Russia was in itself a serious matter ; but it was far worse that the advantage which he had lost was transferred to his one irreconcilable enemy. But Frederick was growing old; he was isolated both in Germany and in Europe; and for the moment he was powerless. France and England were still engaged in the war which had arisen out of the American rebellion; and, even if they had been free, Frederick had no great confidence in either State. Both - Joseph and Catharine acted as if there was complete security on the side of Prussia, In 1783, taking advantage of internal disturbances among the Tartars, Russia annexed the Crimea; and early in the following year Turkey was compelled by the Treaty of Constantinople to acquiesce in the annexation: Austria, which under Maria Theresa would have protested against such a breach of the Treaty of Kutschuk Kainardji, now massed her troops on the Turkish frontier in order to compel the Porte, to yield. Meanwhile, Joseph was pursuing with reckless haste a policy of domestic reform and external aggression that excited the terrified wonder alike of foreign States and of his own subjects. It is often suggested that the explanation of. Joseph II’s actions is to be found in his descent from the House of Lorraine, and his consequent freedom from the prejudices and nborn jharacteristics of the Habsburgs. But after all Joseph was no more a Lorrainer than were his brother and his nephew, and yet he differed from them almost as much as from his mother or his maternal grandfather. His personality is unique in both the dynasties from which he sprang, and it is difficult to assign any trait in his character to the influence of heredity. Joseph II was that most dangerous of men, a theorist in possession of absolute power. No

democrat inspired with revolutionary fervour could show a more utter disregard of precedent and tradition, of racial and geographical dis­tinctions, of the rights of property, and of ecclesiastical and social prejudices, than did this holder of the oldest secular dignity in Christ­endom; He attributed the success of Prussia to the way in which a uni­form administration had remedied the difficulties of geographical isolation. It was his desire to confer the same boon upon the extraordinary com­bination of States and races which made up the Austrian dominions. To do this he must sweep away national habits, provincial privileges, judicial and other deep-rooted differences, and even distinctions of language. The task was beyond the powers of any ruler, and probably of any succession of rulers, and Joseph only reigned alone for ten years. It was no justification of such chimerical designs that he gave himself up to the duties of his office as no other ruler did, that he spent nothing on luxury or personal indulgence, that he was guided neither by mistress nor by favourite, and that his life was undoubtedly shortened by his self-sacrificing industry.

If Joseph II may be credited with good intentions in his domestic government, the same cannot be said of his foreign policy. No ruler in the eighteenth century was more greedy of territory, or more reckless of the rights of other States and of treaty obligations in the endeavour to satisfy his greed. He was equally ready to seize the Danubian princi­palities from Turkey, to round off his kingdom of Galicia at the expense of Poland, and to strengthen his dominions in Italy by the annexation of Venetia. But the project to which he clung most tenaciously was the acquisition of Bavaria. He could never revive his former claims; even Russia would not allow the violation of the Treaty of Teschen : but he might induce the Elector to exchange Bavaria and the Upper Palatinate for the Austrian Netherlands. To make the bribe more tempting he did not hesitate to quarrel with the Dutch, by repudiating the burdensome obligation of the barrier treaty, advancing a claim to Maestricht, and announcing his intention of opening the Scheldt to commerce. When all was ready he induced his Russian ally to make overtures to Charles Theodore of Bavaria, who had no great reason to love his recently acquired electorate and might easily be induced to give it up for a richer kingdom in the west. But the bargain was not to be made without effective protest. France was keenly interested in the United Provinces, where Vergennes had gained a signal diplomatic triumph by restoring the preponderance of the republican party against the House of Orange and the English alliance. All that had been gained would have been lost if Joseph had been allowed to dictate his own terms to the Dutch. And so for the second time since 1756 France interfered to thwart Austrian ambition; and by the Treaty of Fontainebleau in 1785 Joseph had to withdraw his claim to Maestricht and renew the treaty obligation to close the Scheldt.

Still more humiliating was his failure in Germany. The union of Bavaria with Austria would not only have altered the whole balance between north and south, between Roman Catholicism and Protestantism, but would have given to the imperial ruler so great a territorial pre­ponderance as to endanger the independence of all lesser Princes. Joseph had already inspired alarm by other acts. He had procured the election of his brother Maximilian to the office of Coadjutor, which carried with it the right of succession, in the archbishopric of Cologne and the prince-bishopric of Munster, and had thus materially increased the influence of his family in both the electoral and the princely College of the Diet. Even the ecclesiastical States, so long the staunch supporters of the Habsburgs, were not prepared to acquiesce in the establishment of a really powerful monarchy in Germany, and preferred to abandon their religious prejudices by forming a strong alliance with Protestant Prussia. Frederick the Great saw the opportunity of emerging from the isolation in which he had been left by the desertion of Russia, and eagerly put himself at the head of the general hostility to Joseph’s scheme. The Fiirstenbund, the organisation of which was the last great achievement of the Prussian King, was powerful enough to prevent the carrying out of the projected exchange, and might, if Frederick’s successor had possessed more character and capacity, have been the foundation of a new German federation under Prussian headship.

Joseph II had good reason to be bitterly disappointed. He had been loyal to Russia, and had aided his ally to gain that secure footing on the Black Sea which had been so long and so ardently desired. Already Sevastopol was being fortified, and a Russian fleet was being built in its harbour. But, on the other hand, Austria had failed to obtain Bavaria, which was to have been the equivalent to the aggrandise­ment of Russia, and the hostile influence of Prussia had been greatly increased by the League of Princes. Was it worth while to continue an alliance which had hitherto been so unequal and to Austria so disastrous? This was the momentous question with which Joseph and Kaunitz were ;onfronted in 1786 and the following year. If there had been any satisfactory alternative combination, it is possible that they would have insisted upon modifying or even abandoning the informal agreement of

1781.       In any further partition of Turkey Russia could hardly fail to obtain greater advantages than Austria could hope for; and Joseph was fond of quoting a significant remark of Vergennes, “ How is compensa­tion to be given for Constantinople ? ”

But it was almost impossible to find another alliance which offered any attraction to Austria. Prussia, in the eyes of both Joseph and his Minister, was the arch-enemy of Austria; and any alienation of Russia would reestablish the intimacy between St Petersburg and Berlin which it had cost so much to disturb. The French alliance, which Kaunitz regarded as the masterpiece of his diplomacy, was still in existence.

But France was no longer so submissive as in the past, and had openly opposed Austria both in its Bavarian schemes and in the Netherlands. Joseph was, indeed, so indignant at the recent action of his brother-in- law that, but for the obvious danger of excessive dependence upon Russia, he would probably have repudiated the French alliance altogether. Of the five Great Powers there remained only'England,-which before! 1755 had been for several (generations intimately associated with Austria. Even since.the rupture there had been little'overt hostility between the two Powers. But there were two strong arguments against a renewal of the English connexion. If it should prove necessary under an altered system to oppose the advance of Russia in the East, there was at this time little prospect that England would render effective assistance. The Eastern Question had not as yet excited the keen attention of English statesmen; and it was a tradition of the London Foreign Office to regard Russia with peculiar favour. During the recent war with the Bourbon States England had done all'in its power to conciliate Catharine II, and had even gone so far as to offer to cede Minorca to Russia. And, since the conclusion of peace in 1783, England had observed a benevolent neutrality at the time of the annexation of the Crimea. Moreover* an English alliance would almost inevitably involve a rupture with France and this again would necessitate vastly increased expenditure for the defence o* the Netherlands and of the Italian provinces of Austria. The security conferred upon these outlying possessions by the Treaty of Versailles . (1756) had: always been^: regarded by Kaunitz as the primary justification of that Treaty. '      .

Such a survey of European relations must inevitably have induced Joseph and Kaunitz to give a longer trial to' the Russian alliance; and they were further impelled in the same direction by the successive deaths of Frederick the Great (August 17,1786) and of Vergennes (February 13, 1787). Both were succeeded by weaker men ; and there was good reason to expect that Austria would meet with: far less serious opposition wheu Prussia, was ruled by Frederick William II, and Montmorin presided over the Foreign Office in France. Under the altered conditions it seemed by no means impossible that .Russia and Austria combined might dictate their, own will in the East, and effect that partition of European Turkey which had been sketched in outline in the negotiations of 1780. These anticipations were put to the test with (greater rapidity than was in­tended by the two allies. For some time the Turks had been more and more disquieted by the insatiable ambition of Russia. Since the death of Count Panin in 1783 there had been no restraint on the influence of Potemkin, and he seized every opportunity to urge the Czarina to extend or to strain her power in the south. And in 1786 and 1787 there seemed little need for any great caution on the part of Russia. Engiand was quiescent ; France was occupied with- ever-increasing troubles at home; Prussia was passing through the uneasiness attending the accession

of a new and untried King. Of the neighbouring smaller Powers, Poland was apparently slumbering after the excitement that had culminated in the First Partition,; and both King and nobles vied with each other in seeking to gain Catharine’s favour. Gustavus III of Sweden had so far done nothing to excite alarm since his bi .lliant triumph in the first year of his reign; and any ambitious designs he might entertain were likely to be thwarted by the malcontent nobles. The ease with which the Crimea had been acquired did not suggest that the Turks would make any very resolute resistance to the allied heads of eastern and western Christendom. . .

It was therefore with great confidence that Catharine set out in May, 1787, to pay a ceremonial visit to her new dominions, which she had christened Taurida. Accompanied by a magnificent Court, including the envoys of France. England, and Austria, she embarked on the Dnieper; and a fleet of galleys escorted her to Cherson, which was built to be the capital of the province. On the way she received a visit from Stanislas Poniatowski, who virtually acknowledged his vassalage to the mistress from whom he‘ had received* his crown. Near Cherson, which was entered through an arch bearing the significant inscription, “The way to Constantinople,” she was joined by Joseph II, travelling in his favourite incognito as Count Falkenstein. The imperial picnic pro­ceeded on its way through crowds of applauding peasants by day, while at night the river banks were lighted by brilliant illuminations. It is true that the voyage- on the Dnieper had to be abandoned before the mouth of the river was reached, on account of the appearance of a Turkish fleet, but the journey was continued with no less magnificence by land; and it was a proud moment for Catharine when she saw at Sebastopol twenty Russian vessels, on the waters of the Black Sea. The tour was designed as a demonstration both to friend and foe of the immense resources and resistless might of Russia; and the impression which it made upon contemporaries shows that it went a long way towards achieving its end.

But the Turks, though they might be impressed, refused to be intimidated. Mohammadan fanaticism was inflamed by the danger to [slam involved in the encouragement which Russian progress gave to Christianity in the East. Every Russian consulate was a centre of intrigue against Mohammadan ascendancy; and, even if the Porte, had been blinded by considerations of policy, it could not afford to disregard the overwhelming force of opinion among its subjects. The subjection of the Crimea to Russia was at once a blow to Tartar love of independ­ence and a serious loss to the Mohammadan Church. Even while the Czarina was in the Crimea, the Turks were pressing demands upon Russia for the redress, of grievances. The Hospodar of Moldavia had incurred the displeasure of the Sultan and had sought, refuge in Russia, who refused to surrender him to his suzerain. Still more serious was the

316 The outbreak of war between Turkey and Russia. [i787

dispute about the principality of Georgia in the Caucasus. For many generations the province had been disputed between Turkey and Persia; but the recent decline of the latter Power seemed to justify the Turks in firmly establishing their authority. Russia, however, intervened, and seemed likely to establish a protectorate over Georgia, which must lead, as in the case of the Crimea, to ultimate annexation. The dispatch of Russian troops to Georgia brought matters to a crisis; and the Turks determined to run the risk of war rather than tamely submit to further spoliation. No doubt such a decision was not come to without some hope of direct or indirect aid.

Diez, the Prussian envoy at Constantinople, was known to be a par­tisan of the Turks, and his influence might serve to bring about Prussian intervention in their favour. Austria might at the last moment stop short of giving active aid to Russia, especially as Joseph was involved in serious difficulties in the Netherlands. Hostility to Russia might be stirred up in Poland and in Sweden; and there was always the possibility that Turkey might recover an old ally in France, or find a new one in England. Such chances were always to be taken into account, but there is no reason to suppose that the Turks received direct encouragement or a formal assurance of support from Prussia or any other Power. Their action was dictated by passion rather than policy; and they preferred to risk everything in an honourable struggle rather than tamely submit to insult and loss. Catharine II had no intention of hurrying matters, and was disposed to a moderate and temporising policy by her intercourse with Joseph, which had not resulted in any definite agreement. But on her return from the south to St Petersburg she learned that immediate hostilities were inevitable. On August 15,1787, the Russian ambassador in Constantinople was summoned to a formal interview and was called upon to abandon all Russian pretensions in Georgia. He offered to refer the demand to his Court; but it was too late for such a familiar expedient for delay, and he was imprisoned in the fortress of the Seven Towers. This was the Turkish method of declaring war, and it certainly did not err in any lack of precision. Fortunately for Russia, the preparations of the Turks were unequal to their courage. Instead of striking a decisive blow while the enemy was unready, their operations in 1787 were limited to the siege of Kinbum at the mouth of the Dnieper, which was defended with equal skill and obstinacy by SuvdrofF. This gave Catharine time to make preparations, and to call upon Austria for assistance.

In the autumn of 1787 Joseph II had his last chance of reconsidering the advisability of going to war with Turkey as the ally of Russia. The prospect was not altogether an inviting one; and the disparity of power had been brought home to him during his journey on Russian soil. A listener has preserved a fragment of conversation between the imperial fellow-travellers. “‘I have thirty million subjects,’ said one, ‘counting

only males.’ ‘ And I have twenty-two, including all,’ replied the other.

‘ I need,’ added one, ‘ an army of 600,000 men from Kamschatka to Riga.’

‘ My needs are satisfied with exactly half as many,’ was the reply.” In spite of the difference of resources, Austria was to provide a force equal to that of Russia, and her reward was still Undetermined. That Joseph would have preferred to postpone hostilities is certain; but delay was now impossible, and he was too deeply pledged to repudiate his obliga­tions to Russia. After a winter spent in planning the campaign and collecting the necessary forces, he declared war against Turkey in February, 1788. He must have had grave misgivings as to the morality and the prudence of his action. The Turks had given him no ground of quarrel; on the contrary they had of late years been extraordinarily careful to avoid any offence against Austria; and in embarking on a wholly unprovoked war for the aggrandisement of his own State Joseph had good reason to anticipate serious difficulties both from the disaffection of his own subjects and from the inveterate hostility of Prussia.

The first overt resistance to the government of Joseph II came from the most distant and least valued of his dominions. The southern Nether­lands had been handed over to Austria in 1714 to be held as it were in trust for the Maritime Powers, who were primarily interested in the exclu­sion of French influence and in the maintenance of a buffer between France and the United Provinces. When Charles VI endeavoured to revive the commerce of his new possessions by founding the Ostend Company, England and the Provinces never rested until they had compelled him to abandon the project. It is not surprising that the Austrian rulers were eager to find a purchaser for territories which were a source of expense rather than of revenue, and which by their geographical position involved Austria in all the intricate jealousies of western politics. Kaunitz proposed in 1757 to hand the Austrian Netherlands over to the House of Bourbon, on condition that France should join in effecting the partition of Prussia; and Joseph himself offered them in exchange for Bavaria. It was only when this project had perforce to be abandoned that the Emperor set to work to introduce the administrative reforms which he had already endeavoured to set on foot in his other dominions. But the task was one which required far greater tact and far more intimate knowledge of the Netherlands than Joseph possiessed.

There was as yet no real central government. The various Provinces were for the most part in enjoyment of the same separate institutions and the same local independence that they enjoyed when they first came under the rule of the Dukes of Burgundy. Tie “Joyous Entry,” the charter of Brabant and Limburg which Philip the Good had sworn to in the fifteenth century, was still confirmed by each successive Duke on his accession. By one of its clauses, if the sovereign broke the provisions of the charter, his subjects were released from their obligation of obedience. Similar, if less explicit, assurances of provincial liberties were given,

318 Discontent in the Austrian Netherlands. [1786-7

either by charter or by treaty, to the people of Flanders, Namur, Hain- ault, and the other Provinces. There was in each some form of Estates,' which had the right of granting taxes, and whose consent was necessary for the validity of new laws. After the great revolt of the Netherlands against Philip II in the sixteenth century Spain had recovered its hold upon the southern Provinces, partly by a close alliance with the Roman Catholic clergy, and partly by promises to maintain local priv’ 5ges and independence. Austria had succeeded to the traditions of Spanish rule; and,: since the termination of hostility with France, the Netherlands had enjoyed an unusual period of peace and prosperity. The office of Viceroy was usually held: by some member of the imperial family, and since 1780 had been entrusted-to Maria Christina, a sister of Joseph, and her husband, Albert of Saxe-Teschen. There was some dissatisfaction at the failure of Joseph’s endeavour to open the Scheldt; but this would soon have subsided if his restless activity had not led him to attack the double foundations on which Habsburg domination had so long rested— the supremacy of the Roman Catholic hierarchy, and the respect for provincial customs and privileges;   <

In 1786 Joseph took his first step towards the eradication of ultra­montane tendencies among the Belgian clergy. He had already sup­pressed some of the too numerous monasteries, and granted to the Protestants toleration for their worship and admission to civil employ­ments. He now proceeded to impose upon the clergy an education which was to inculcate the primary obligation of obedience to the State; and with that object he founded in Louvain a seminary for the training of future priests. The University of Louvain, one of the glories of Brabant and a stronghold of ultramontanism, was transferred to Brussels, where it would be under: the eye of the government. The students, who noisily demonstrated against the;change, were coerced into obedience; the Archbishop of Malines was compelled to go to Vienna to apologise for his protests; and the papal Nuncio was expelled from the country. In January, 1787, came the first of a series of Edicts for the reform of the secular administration. A uniform system of jurisdiction was estab­lished, with two'regular Courts of Appeal; and all feudal and clerical Courts were abolished. The whole of the Netherlands, as if it were a single dependency, was to be divided into nine districts or circles; and at the head of each was to be an Intendant nominated from Vienna. For the support of the new administration certain fixed taxes were allocated, which thus became permanent charges instead of temporary grants from the various Estates. ¹ Thus in the State as in the Church Joseph attacked the strongest and most deeply-rooted sentiments of the Belgian people. '

The Estates of Brabant made themselves the mouthpiece of the general ill-will. They declared the imperial ordinances to be contrary to the “ Joyous Entry,” refused to grant supplies, and drew up a formal

178?] Rebellion in the Austrian'Netherlands. 319

protest for presentation to the Regents. Maria Christina and her hus­band were in a cruel dilemma. Since the garrisons had been withdrawn from the barrier fortresses they had no adequate force at their disposal to put down opposition. They had no special interest in the Edicts, which had been issued without their opinion being asked; and they Would have personally preferred the continuance of the old state of things. A riot in Brussels, organised by van der Noot, an advocate who was closely identified with the cause of the malcontent hierarchy, forced them to come to a decision; and on May 30 they agreed to suspend the execution of the new ordinances so far as they were contrary to the Charter of Brabant. The news of actual rebellion in the Austrian Netherlands reached Joseph while he was in Catharine’s company; and, though he tried to disguise his uneasiness, he was compelled to hasten his return to Vienna. His first impulse was to carry matters with a high hand. He recalled the Regents, disavowed their action, and entrusted the temporary govern­ment to Count Murray, the commander of the Austrian forces in the Netherlands. At the same time he called upon the provincial Estates to combine together in the selection of delegates to represent their griev­ances in Vienna. This was a characteristically rash step to take, as the joint meeting of the representatives in Brussels was the first step towards a republican federation of Belgium.

On August 15 the thirty delegates were admitted to a formal audience of the Emperor, reprimanded for their resistance to the benevolent inten­tions of their ruler, who desired to improve, not to abolish, their institu­tions, and ordered on their return to insist upon the payment of the usual- subsidies and the revocation of all acts of the Estates which ran counter to the Emperor’s authority. Only when this complete sub­mission should be made did he hold out the hope of concessions to his subjects’ demands. He had already collected a considerable body of troops which were on the march to the Netherlands to enforce his will. What would have been the result of this resolute attitude it is impossible to say, for it was abandoned almost as soon as it had been¹ assumed. On the very day on which Joseph spoke with such apparent firmness the Russian envoy was imprisoned in Constantinople. The outbreak of war in the East made all the difference to Joseph’s plans. Kaunitz, who had never approved the new system in the Netherlands, could employ the unanswerable argument that it was impossible to interfere effectually in the East and to gain the advantages that were offered there, if a large proportion of the Austrian army had to be employed in suppressing a rebellion in the West. The influence of Catharine II was also employed for obvious reasons on the side of moderation. Joseph could not be insensible to such representations; but he could not make up his mind to abandon measures which he honestly believed to be both advantageous and just. He recalled the troops that were to have gone to the Nether­lands, and adopted a more conciliatory tone towards the delegates before

their departure from Vienna. But he had no intention of making per­manent concessions. , ,

When Count Murray, intimidated by another riot, agreed in September once more _;to suspend the, ordinances, Joseph dismissed him in disgrace, and entrusted the military command to d’Alton, a rough and overbearing martinet, while Count Trautmansdorf was appointed chief Minister in civil affairs. This appointment was in itself an act of duplicity. While the general advocated severe measures of repression, the Minister was all for conciliation. The constitutional Edicts were for a time allowed to drop; and the chief questions at issue during the winter were the estab­lishment of the seminary at Louvain, the payment of the taxes, and the disarmament of the volunteers who had taken up arms during the pre­vious disorders. In most of the Provinces there was an inclination to be grateful for the Emperor’s moderation, and it was only in Brabant that any serious difficulties occurred. In January, 1788, the troops fired on the mob at Brussels; and, though Trautmansdorf disavowed their action, Joseph gave it his subsequent approval. For a time the display of force was effectual. Some of the boldest leaders of disaffection, such as van der Noot, went into exile, and on the immediate questions the Estates gave way. The'University of Louvain was closed, and the semi­nary was opened. The volunteers were disarmed and the taxes were granted. When the Regents returned in the spring of 1788 they found a superficial tranquillity in the Netherlands. But the causes of dis­affection had not been removed, and the imminent revolution had only been postponed.

While Joseph II was occupied in dealing with these Belgian disturb­ances and in preparing for war with Turkey, Prussia had made a striking demonstration of her power by a successful intervention in Holland. For several years past the internal politics of the United Provinces had been a matter of European concern. The origin of Dutch parties dates from the very foundation of the Republic. On the one hand was the strong tradition of independence among the burgher class, especially in the wealthy cities of Holland. On the other hand was the powerful influence of the Princes of the House of Orange-Nassau, who had rendered such conspicuous services in the struggle for independence, and had been rewarded with the grant of a number of offices, some federal and some provincial, which were collectively known as the stadholdership. The Orange Princes represented the cause of centralisation, of united national effort, of the interests of the whole State as against local and class privileges. On the other hand the republican party represented the ascendancy of the wealthy burghers in the municipalities, and also the predominance in the federation of the great Province of Holland, which contributed to the common revenue as much as the other six Provinces together. The strength of this party lay in the provincial Estates of Holland and in the town Council of Amsterdam; whereas their opponents

relied mainly upon the support of Zeeland and other lesser Provinces, and also upon the lower classes who resented the exclusive rule of the civic oligarchy in the towns.

The fluctuations of party strife were necessarily mixed up to some extent with external relations. In times of danger and crisis the Orange party came to the front, because united effort was then needed, and this could only be attained under something like monarchical rule. Thus a French invasion in 1673 gave the stadholdership to William III after the office had been suspended for twenty-three years. Oh William’s death in 1702 the main line of his House became extinct, and the office was again in abeyance until 1747, when another French invasion not merely revived the jcadholdersl ip but made it hereditary in the hands of a younger branch of the Orange family and greatly increased its powers. These events rendered party differences a matter of inter­national importance. The Orange Princes, raised to power by national antagonism to France, leaned for support upon England. William HI, himself the grandson of Charles I, had married a daughter of James II, and had actually worn the English crown. William IV married the eldest daughter of George II; and his son and successor, William V, was thus the first cousin of George III. The republican party was impelled by the spirit of opposition to cultivate friendly relations with France. But this was impossible as long as France threatened Dutch independence; and for several generations the party was deprived of external support and comparatively impotent.

The second half of the eighteenth century witnessed a very marked change both in the foreign relations and in the internal politics of the United Provinces. English dictation became unpopular, while the sense of danger from France was almost removed. In the Seven Years’ War the Netherlands had been undisturbed by hostilities; and the enormous advance of English maritime and colonial power excited the jealousy of the mercantile classes. Vergennes, the ablest French Foreign Minister of the century, took prompt advantage of the altered sentiments of the Dutch to bring about a revival of the republican party under the patronage and encouragement of France. To the astonishment of Europe, the Dutch in 1779 joined in the formidable coalition which had been formed to take advantage of the difficulties in which Great Britain was involved by the American revolt. Their ill-success in the war inspired a feeling of bitter hostility against the Stadholder, William V, who was regarded as a very half-hearted opponent of the State with which his family had been so long and closely connected. By championing Dutch interests against Joseph II, Vergennes still further increased the influence of France; and the Treaty of Fontainebleau was followed in November, 1785, by the conclusion of a formal alliance between France and the States General. Encouraged by the assurance of foreign support, the leaders of the republican party prepared in 1786 to complete their

322 Great Britain, Prussia and the Stadholder. [1786-7

victory by^! abolishing the hereditary stadholdership which had been established in 1747. Such a revolution would have been a signal triumph for France and a humiliating blow to Great Britain. Sir James Harris, who was at this time the English envoy at the Hague, undertook the task of reorganising the Orange party, and. with the warm approval of the Stadholder, established intimate relations with all the various sections of the community, and especially with the leading politicians of the lesser Provinces, who were hostile to the now omnipotent Estates of Holland. Matters seemed to have reached a crisis when in September, 1786, William V employed armed force to reduce two towns in Gelderland, which had rebelled against his authority. The Provincial Estates of Holland,' claiming a federal authority to which they had no right, retaliated by depriving him of the command of the army. Everything pointed to civil war; and the superiority of force was on the side of the republicans, who were confident of French aid.

Sir James Harris realised that all was lost unless the partisans of the Stadholder could also relj^r upon foreign support. Pitt, to whom he appealed, refused ,to commit England to a policy_; which would probably, involve a renewal of war with France. The only other State which had both the interest and the power to intervene was Prussia. The wife of William V was Wilhelmina, the niece of Frederick the Great, and sister of the heir to the Prussian throne. To all appeals from Holland Frederick the Great had turned a deaf ear. From his point of view it was imperative to do nothing which might drive France once more into close cooperation with Austria. The accession of Frederick William II excited great hopes in the breast of the Stadholder and his partisans. The new King was a nearer relative; he was more impulsive and less experienced; and he was not unwilling to have an early opportunity of posing as a great personage on the European stage. Hertzberg, who had the chief voice in foreign affairs, had disapproved of Frederick’s policy of neutrality, and was in favour of intervention. But a strong party in Berlin, including the King’s j uncle, Prince Henry, was opposed to any breach of the good understanding with France. All that the new King would do was to send an envoy with instructions to arrange some compromise by which the office of Stadholder should be maintained even though its powers were restricted. Passions and interests, however, had been too keenly excited to admit of any comp”omise_> even if William V and his English counsellor had been willing to accept one. The contending parties were standing ready in armed hostility when a dramatic inpident gave a new turn to the situation.

In June, 1787, Wilhelmina undertook a journey to the Hague in order to represent her husband’s cause to the States General. On her way from Nymegen, where the Court had resided since its practical expulsion from the capital, she was arrested and for a time actually imprisoned by a body of republican troops on the frontier of Holland.

Lord Carmarthen, in his answer to a gloomy letter from Harris, shrewdly grasped the situation. “ Don’t be so disheartened by a check to the Queen ; let her be covered by the Knight, and all is safe. Seriously, I am sorry for anything so unpleasant happening to the Princess, whose character so highly deserves a better fate; the event, however, may still be productive of good. If the King, her brother, is not the dirtiest and shabbiest of Kings he must resent it, co&te que co&te.”

Frederick William II, whatever his defects, did not merit these particular epithets. The insult to his sister touched the chivalrous instincts of his impulsive nature, and he promptly demanded that ample satisfaction should be given to her by i;he States General and the Estates of Holland The demand was evaded, and the latter assembly continued to discuss the suspension of the Prince of Orange from the stadholdership of the Province. Frederick William stood firm, and in September a Prussian army under the Duke of Brunswick crossed the Dutch frontier from the duchy of Cleves. Pitt’s scruples were overcome by the resolute action of Prussia; and by a secret convention Great Britain undertook to take part in the demonstration by raising forty ships, and also to make war on any State which should oppose Prussian interven­tion. Everything now turned upon the action of France. If Vergennes had lived, he might have been willing to strike a blow rather than allow all the advantages which he had gained to be swept away. But Vergennes had died in the early part of the year; and his policy died with him. France was appealing to an Assembly of Notables to find a remedy for acute financial troubles, and was hardly in a position to add to these troubles by embarking on a war. In view of the action of the Turks no aid could be expected from either Austria or Russia, even if those Powers had thought well to interfere. And so France stood aloof and allowed the republican or “ patriotic ” party to suffer for its excessive confidence in French honour. The abstention of France decided the fate of Holland. The Prussian march was rather a triumphal progress than a military invasion. One town after another opened its gates, and the surrender of Amsterdam on October 10 completed the task of suppressing the malcontents. William V was restored to all his former authority; and the hereditary stadholdership was formally declared to be an essential part of the constitution of the United Provinces. In the Treaty of Paris, October 27, France recognised these changes.

The chief gainer by these memorable events was undoubtedly England; and a grateful government rewarded the services of Sir James Harris with the title of Lord Malmesbury. But the immediate glory belonged to Prussia; and both Frederick William and Hertzberg were immensely elated at the ease with which so conspicuous a triumph had been gained. Hertzberg, the real author of Prussia’s energetic action, believed that Prussia was now in a position to dictate its will to Europe; and this self-confidence led him into serious misconceptions and blunders. But

in the meantime he had gained something besides glory, namely, an alliance with a first-rate Power. Frederick the. Great had no such alliance in the last six years of his life, though he had found a substitute in the headship of a league of German Princes. But purely German politics had no great attraction for Hertzberg or for the new King. They were petty and parochial as compared with the great issues of international relations. Thus the Fiirstenbund, though it still existed and displayed at this time a good deal of activity, was no longer keenly supported by Prussia; and the scheme of reforming the German constitution was allowed to drop. Prussia was engaged in what appeared to be a more promising scheme for realising its old object, the holding of Austria in check. Cooperation with England in the West might easily develop into common action in the East. The settlement of the Dutch constitution was a small matter compared with what might grow out of it. Strenuous negotiations at the Hague in the early months of 1788 resulted in the conclusion of a Triple Alliance between Prussia, Great Britain, and the United Provinces, by which the three Powers were pledged not only to mutual defence, but also to joint action “ for preserving public tranquillity and for main­taining their common interests.” The only sphere for such joint action at the time when the treaty was signed was in the East. The provisional treaty was signed at Loo on June 13, 1788, and was confirmed on August 13 at Berlin. Thus, at the moment when the first serious operations in Eastern Europe began, international relations assumed an intensely interesting character. On the one side were Austria and Russia engaged in an aggressive war against Turkey, and eager for a partition of Turkish territory. On the other side was the newly-formed Triple Alliance, determined to restore tranquillity on terms satisfactory to the interests of the allied Powers, and therefore opposed to any aggrandisement of either Russia or Austria. France, which might have decided the balance between the two coalitions, had lost all influence and prestige, and had for the moment ceased to be a great Power in Europe. No single event since the battle of Rossbach did so much to discredit the Bourbon monarchy as the passive acceptance by France of Prussian intervention in Holland.

Immense forces were prepared both by Austria and Russia for the campaign of 1788; and, although the Turks were inspired by religious fanaticism and had often displayed great tenacity in a defensive war, it was not expected that they could hold their own against so formidable a coalition. Joseph, who undertook the command in person, was confident that he would annex to his dominions not only Servia, which had been lost in 1739, but also Moldavia and Wallachia, and that Austria would henceforth be supreme on the Lower Danube. His primary object was the capture of Belgrade, which had already been treacherously attacked in the previous December before the declaration of war. Bitter

disappointment awaited the Emperor. His early operations were inten­tionally dilatory, in order to allow the Russians time to cooperate. But to his astonishment Jussuf, the Grand Vizier, concentrated his main forces against the Austrians, and not only compelled Joseph to fall back from Belgrade, but followed him to the frontier of the Banat of Temeswar. There the Austrian army, seized by a disgraceful panic, abandoned the passes in disorder, and allowed the enemy to enter and ravage an Austrian province. Joseph himself returned to Vienna broken in health and spirits. The only set-off to his personal defeat was that Prince Josias of Coburg, in command of the left wing of his army, had established a strong position in Moldavia by the capture of the fortress of Choczim, and that the veteran Loudon, who was only employed as a last resource, signalised his return to active service by storming Dubitza in Bosnia. These successes compelled the Turks to evacuate the Banat before the winter.

One cause of the failure of the Austrian campaign in 1788, apart from military blunders and inefficiency, was that the Russians made far less strenuous exertions than had been anticipated. It was not till June that Potemkin appeared before Oczakoff, which offered the most obstinate resistance. After a siege of six months the town was carried by storm on December 17 ; and a terrible massacre avenged the losses which the besieging army had suffered before the walls. This, and a naval victory in the Black Sea which averted a Turkish attack upon the Crimea, were the only Russian successes in the year. Early in the campaign a large part of the Russian forces had to be.recalled to meet an unexpected danger in the north. Gustavus III of Sweden took advantage of the Turkish war to demand from Russia in arrogant terms the restoration of Finland and Carelia. On Catharine’s refusal he invaded Finland, while the Swedish fleet threatened to attack the Russian ships which had been collected at Cronstadt for an expedition to the Mediterranean. No preparations had been made for resistance to the Swedes; and for a moment panic reigned in St Petersburg. But the pressing danger dis­appeared as speedily as it had arisen. The Swedish officers, drawn from the noble class which had never forgiven the King for his coup d'etat in 1772, took a mean revenge by open* mutiny in the field. On the ground that the war had been falsely represented as one of defence, and that Gustavus was bound to consult the Diet before undertaking a war of aggres­sion, they not only refused to advance, but offered Catharine an armistice by which Finland was evacuated. At sea, after an indecisive battle, the superior seamanship of Greig, the Russian admiral, succeeded in shutting up the Swedish ships in the harbour of Sveaborg. Gustavus himself was called home by the news that the Danes, at Russian instigation, had invaded Sweden from Norway, and were threatening Gflteborg. The complete humiliation of Sweden was only averted by the action of the Triple Alliance. The threat that an English fleet would enter the

Sound and a Prussian array invade Holstein was sufficient to compel Denmark to withdraw its army from Swedish soil and to observe thence­forward an attitude of strict neutrality. This action on the part of England is especially noteworthy as the first step taken by that country in open opposition to Russia.

It is impossible to do more than enumerate the most important events of the year 1789. Gustavus III took advantage of the popular indignation excited by the unpatriotic conduct of the nobles and by the Danish invasion to effect another revolution in the government of Sweden. When the Diet met in February, three of the Estates, the clergy, the towns, and the peasants, were enthusiastic for the King. Of the nobles, some were imprisoned for their mutiny in Finland, and the rest were coerced or intimidated into accepting a new constitution, which the King himself proposed to the assembly. Henceforth the King was to have supreme control of peace and war; and a considerable revenue was voted to him without limit of time. By this means Gustavus was enabled to continue the war and to return to the command of his army in Finland. But Sweden was no longer so formidable as in the seven­teenth century, and no great successes were gained. The chief results of the northern war were that Russia was compelled to employ a consider­able force in Finland, and that the Russian navy had to be concentrated in the Baltic. In spite of this diversion the allies were able to gain brilliant successes against the Turks. The death of the Sultan Abdul Hamid and the accession of Selim. Ill led to the recall and the execution of the Grand Vizier who had so brilliantly defeated Joseph II in the previous year. His successor proved to be a man of very inferior ability; and the Turks suffered severely from the want of an efficient commander. The Prince of Coburg, supported by Suvoroff, inflicted a crushing defeat upon the main Turkish army on the Rimnik (September 22); and this victory materially aided Loudon in compelling Belgrade to surrender (October 9). Joseph II for the moment threw off his sickness to attend a service in St Stephen’s in celebration of this signal triumph. Nor did success end here. Potemkin captured a number of fortresses, of which Bender was the most important. Coburg took Bucharest and occupied the passes into Wallachia; while Loudon reduced Semendria and block­aded Orsova. Although this blockade was to prove a serious hindrance, everything seemed prepared for an irresistible advance upon Turkey.

These military'successes, however, were counterbalanced by rapidly increasing difficulties elsewhere. In Poland there was a strong and growing party which desired to take advantage of the eastern war to put an end to Russian ascendancy, and, as a necessary preliminary, to reform the anarchical constitution which Russia had resolutely set itself to uphold; Prussia, now that she was estranged from Russia, would be inclined to support the reforming projects which she had previously helped to defeat. So long as Catharine was engaged in war

1788-9] Hungary.—The Austrian Netherlands.

327

with both Turkey and Sweden, it would be difficult for her to employ an adequate force for the coercion of Poland. Still more serious were the problems with which Austria was confronted. Joseph’s reforming activity had alienated in all his dominions both the nobles, who were deprived of the accustomed services of tbe peasants, and the clergy, who were subjected to unfamiliar State control. In Hungary, where tbe consciousness of separate racial and national interests had always created a spirit of antagonism to a German ruler, the hostility to the Emperor was. peculiarly strong. In order to avoid taking an oath to observe the constitution, Joseph had refused on his accession to go through the ceremony of coronation at Pressburg; and he had outraged Hungarian sentiment by bringing the crown of St Stephen to Vienna. All his measures aimed at the incorporation of Hungary with the rest of his dominions under a single centralised administration. Sooner than be Germanised under an absolute ruler, the Magyars were prepared to rise in insurrection; and in 1789 such a rebellion, with the prospect of Prussian encouragement and aid, would have been peculiarly formid­able.

It was in the Netherlands, however, that Joseph II met with the most open and uncompromising opposition. The pacification in the spring of 1788 proved very short-lived, as nothing had been done to remove the radical divergence between the aims of the ruler and the wishes of his subjects. The Bishops insisted that the education of priests belonged exclusively to the clergy, and denounced the teaching of the professors in the new seminary of Louvain as heretical. Joseph on his side closed the episcopal seminaries at Malines and Antwerp. The provinces, and especially Brabant, were resolute to maintain their old- established privileges and institutions; while the Emperor was equally eager to destroy everything which weakened the unity of the State and the efficient exercise of monarchical authority. In 1789 a quarrel between the sovereign and the Estates of Brabant brought matters to a crisis. The Third Estate refused to assent to a demand for subsidies; and Joseph proposed to reform its composition by admitting delegates from other towns besides the three principal cities, which had an exclusive right of representation. From one point of view this was a liberal and popular measure; but from another it could be regarded as merely intended to give the Crown a preponderant influence. The Council of Brabant refused to sanction a change in the constitution, made merely by royal Edict without being submitted to the Estates. The Estates were equally resolute in opposing a measure which had been proposed without consulting them, and was accompanied by a demand for a permanent revenue.

This struggle in Brussels was contemporary with the early meetings of the States General in Versailles. The Third Estate of Brabant was the champion of conservatism and of obsolete privileges, of the social

and political system which the French Third Estate sought to destroy; while Joseph represented in many ways the progressive spirit of the eighteenth century. But the profound differences between the two movements were forgotten in the superficial resemblance; and every concession extorted from Louis XVI served to encourage the opposition to Joseph II. The Emperor, who regarded his brother-in-law’s mis­fortunes as the merited result of discreditable weakness, was determined to pursue a wholly different course. On June 18 he did., in Brabant what in January he had already done in Hainault; he dissolved the recalcitrant Estates and cancelled the “ Joyous Entry ” together with all the ancient liberties of the Province. General d’Alton congratulated his sovereign that the 18th of June, the anniversary of the battle of Kolin, also saw the establishment of his sovereignty in the Netherlands. A policy of rigorous coercion was now pursued. The amnesty which had been granted in the previous year was revoked; and those who had been active in the work of opposition sought safety by a hasty flight across the Dutch frontier. At Breda a committee of the leading exiles under­took the task of organising resistance to military tyranny and of appealing for support to foreign countries. Even before the final rupture van der Noot had sounded the States of the Triple Alliance. In London he had received little attention, as the ministers were absorbed in the disputes about the Regency during the King’s illness. But both in Berlin and the Hague there was a strong desire to hamper Austria by encouraging disaffection. The Dutch were especially eager to punish Joseph H for his attitude both before and during their recent troubles. He had endeavoured to open the Scheldt; and, although he did not actually intervene in the strife of parties, he would certainly have supported France if that country had been able to oppose the Prussians. He had throughout encouraged the anti-Orange faction and had sheltered its leaders in the Netherlands after their defeat. Several of these leaders were intimately associated with d’Alton, the commander of the Austrian forces; and it was thought that a complete triumph of Joseph’s policy in the Netherlands might endanger the recent settlement in the United Provinces.

Meanwhile the fate of the Netherlands depended entirely upon the ability of the military forces to restrain the general discontent from breaking out into open rebellion. D’Alton had some 18,000 men at his disposal, and assured his master that they were sufficient for the purpose. But it would in any case have been difficult for Joseph to send reinforce­ments. He could not withdraw troops from Turkey; and he could not weaken his forces in Hungary and the other Provinces without serious risk. And, even if he resolved on either step, it required considerable time to transfer any considerable body of men to the western Provinces. In Octpber the preparations of the exiles were complete; and two thousand men under van der Mersch, formerly an officer in the imperial service,

crossed the frontier into Brabant. In itself the force was contemptible both in numbers and equipment; but it was rendered formidable by the sympathy and support of the people. In the open field it might have been easily crushed; but within a town its fighting power was not inconsiderable, especially sis the Austrian troops were scattered over a large area and could not concentrate in large numbers at any point. At Tumhout, where the first encounter took place, the regulars were com­pletely routed and compelled to withdraw. In Ghent, the chief city of Flanders, a similar victory of the mob resulted in the expulsion of the garrison. The Flemings declared themselves independent of Austrian rule, and called upon the other Provinces to combine in organising a federal republic. It was in vain that Trautmansdorf issued edicts annulling the recent unpopular measures, and that Joseph sent Philip Cobenzl with authority to adopt a conciliatory policy. The Church threw the whole of its vast influence on the side of the rebels; all pro­posals for a compromise were rejected; and, after a successful rebellion in Brussels (December 10), the Austrian troops were withdrawn from Brabant to Luxemburg, the only Province which remained loyal. In January, 1790, delegates from the provincial Estates met at Brussels and drew up a federal Constitution for a Belgian Republic. The chief ministers of the federation were van der Noot and van Eupen, who represented the alliance of the secular opposition with the interests of the Homan Catholic Church. The impotence of Austria to put down so serious a rebellion, though due in the first place to the Turkish war, was much increased by contemporary events in France. Not only was the Franco- Austrian alliance practically abolished by the progress of the French Revolution, but the acts of the National Assembly had already injured interests in Germany which the Emperor was bound by his office to defend. Thus France, instead of supporting the Austrian cause in the Nether­lands, encouraged and aided the Belgian revolution. Although the two movements, the one radical and the other conservative, were essentially divergent from each other, their momentary alliance is reflected in the name given by Camille Desmoulins to his famous periodical, Les Revolu­tions de France et de Brabant.

It is obvious at a glance that these events in Belgium, combined with the disaffection in Hungary and the other Austrian dominions, enor­mously strengthened the Triple Alliance in its antagonism to Austria and Russia. Prussia, which regarded itself as the leading Power of the coalition, was naturally eager to take full advantage of the favourable combination of circumstances to bring about the humiliation of Austria. The policy advocated by Hertzberg was avowedly based upon imitation of Frederick IPs action at the time of the First Partition of Poland. The great King had then avoided the expense and the risks of war; but his masterly diplomacy had taken advantage of a war in the East to gain for Prussia a valuable extension of territory. Hertzberg believed that

he could gain a similar end by similar means. By acting as mediator Prussia could dictate its will to the belligerent States. The Turks, defeated by superior force, must make considerable cessions to Austria. Austria, however, weakened by events elsewhere, must not enlarge her territories without regard to the Balance of Power. In return for her acquisitions on the Danube, she must resign to Poland the whole or part of Galicia; and the grateful Poles were to reward Prussia for advocating their interests by the cession of Danzig and Thom, which would round off the Prussian gains of 1772 and also give Prussia complete control of the Vistula. The precise details of the scheme as advocated by Hertz­berg varied with the fluctuations of the eastern war and of other events; but its main features were always the same—Prussian ascendancy in arranging a general pacification, the avoidance of actual war, and the acquisition of Danzig and Thom. The obvious weakness of the policy was that it demanded the concurrence of too many favourable contin­gencies. The Turks must be sufficiently humbled, but yet saved from annihilation; the Poles must be willing to make the desired exchange of Danzig and Thom for Galicia; Austria must be induced to make sacrifices in order to recover its rebellious Provinces and to avoid worse disasters; and above all Prussia must receive the strenuous and loyal support of its allies.

Hertzberg’s plan, though it is the most prominent thread in the tangled diplomacy of 1789, was by no means the only course open to Prussia. A far bolder and more aggressive policy was advocated in Berlin and by Prussian agents at foreign Courts, especially by Diez at Constantinople. This was to form a vast coalition, including not only the Maritime Powers, but also Sweden, Poland, and the chief States of Germany. As the head of this coalition, Prussia might undertake to champion the cause of the Turks, and could dictate its will to Austria and Russia. Poland would be freed from Russian control and erected into a permanent barrier against Russian advance towards the west, while Turkey would continue to serve as a barrier in the south. Austria could be compelled to give up Galicia, could be, if necessary, deprived of the Netherlands, and in any case would be compelled to submit to Prussian ascendancy in the affairs of Germany. Both schemes had much to recommend them. That of Hertzberg had the merit of avoiding actual hostilities; but the other opened more grandiose and alluring prospects for Prussian ambition. For many months Frederick William II hesitated between the two alternatives. At one time he was almost pledged to the support of Hertzberg; but in the early months of 1790 steps were taken by Prussia which made immediate war with Austria almost inevitable. On January 30 Diez, who had always advo­cated active assistance to the Turks, concluded a treaty of alliance with the Porte. Prussia was to assist the Turks to recover both their losses in the present war and also the Crimea, whereas all that Turkey undertook

was to endeavour to obtain in the final treaty of peace the Austrian cession of Galicia. Diez was finally recalled (May, 1790) and the ratification postponed; but the treaty was in the end confirmed with the omission of the clause about the Crimea. A little later an alliance was made with Poland, by which Prussia was to defend that State against attack (March 29). Prussian troops were mobilised in Silesia on the very frontier of the Austrian dominions. Loudon had to be recalled from Turkey to undertake the defence of Bohemia and Moravia. Frede­rick William was willing to acknowledge the Belgian Republic, and allowed Prussian officers to assume the command of its forces. Relations were also established with the Hungarian malcontents, who were encour­aged to rebel by the prospect of foreign intervention. Galicia was ready to take up arms and to demand reincorporation with Poland.

It is difficult to overestimate the importance of the issues that were at stake in the early months of 1790. If Prussia had carried out a bellicose policy, all the Powers of Europe, except perhaps the Bourbon and the Italian States, would have been engaged in a gigantic contest on the Eastern Question. Such a contest would in itself have involved momentous consequences, which it is needless and impossible to forecast. But its indirect results must have been no less weighty. European intervention in France would have been impossible; and the French Revolution, without the enormous influence exerted by the struggle with foreign States, must have run a wholly different course. It is therefore a matter of no small interest to form a clear conception of the causes which averted a general conflagration in the East, and by bringing about a temporary reconciliation between Austria and Prussia rendered possible their joint action against France.

The extreme confidence of Prussia, which was one of the chief dangers to European peace, rested very largely upon the successful intervention in the United Provinces and upon the Triple Alliance which had been formed as its result. Hitherto the one overt act of the alliance had been the coercion of Denmark; and, when it was tested by the possibility of active interference in the East, the unity of aim and interest among the allies proved to be very incomplete. For practical purposes the alliance consisted of England and Prussia, as Holland was ready to follow the guidance of its powerful neighbour; and men spoke once more of “the Maritime Powers” as if they were a single unit in European affairs. Nothing can be clearer or more distinct than the main lines of Pitt’s polity in Eastern affairs. He desired to check Russian aggression, and therefore to oppose and weaken Austria as the ally of Russia. So far his aims were identical with those of Prussia. He wished to prevent the war from spreading, and to play the part of a mediator, not of a principal in the struggle. But as regards the provisions of peace he altogether parted company with Hertzberg and his great scheme. He had no intention of serving as a cat’s-paw for Prussia, and was not

in the least inclined to allow the general pacification to be impeded or delayed by what seemed to him an unreasonable demand for Danzig and Thom. Why should the cession of territory from Poland to Prussia form part of a treaty between Russia and Austria on one side and Turkey on the other? The answer that Prussia desired it was inadequate. British diplomatists were instructed to make it perfectly clear that their government desired peace on the simple basis of the status quo ante helium. Pitt was also opposed to Prussian policy with regard to the Belgian Republic. Only recently England had had good reason to complain of the action of European States in ^giving their ■ecognition to the rebellious colonies in America. It would have been too glaring an inconsistency to employ the same weapon against another State after so bitterly denouncing its use. There were other reasons tending in the same direction. A republic in Belgium might easily fall a victim to French influence or French aggression; or Austria, threatened with the complete loss of the Netherlands, might be willing to purchase French aid by the cession of the whole or part to France. In either case the interests of Great Britain and Holland would suffer.

Besides this divergence of aim between the two States, which seriously hampered Prussia, the growing interest attaching to events in F^rance tended to avert a great war in the East. Austria and Prussia, as rivals for the chief influence in Germany, could not possibly disregard the reasonable demands of German Princes for compensation on account of the property or the lucrative rights of which they were deprived by the edicts of a French assembly. But these demands must certainly remain unsatisfied if Austria and Prussia went to war with each other.

The death of Joseph II (February 20, 1790) also made for peace. Few reigns have had a more tragic end. His one guiding motive was devotion to the interests of his State; and he lived to see that State on the verge of disruption and ruin. Although the early disasters had been redeemed by brilliant victories, the Turkish war could hardly bring any lasting gain to Austria. And yet it had exhausted his resources, had alienated his subjects, and had given almost overwhelming advan­tages to the rival State which he had so keenly desired to humiliate. Everything had failed in his hands. His best and his worst actions had equally brought misfortune to his country. Perhaps his greatest service was rendered by his death. That event saved Austria from dangers which could hardly have been averted if his life had been prolonged. The concessions and changes of policy, which Joseph could not possibly have made without losing all credit and authority, could come with com­paratively good grace from his brother and successor. Leopold II was peculiarly well fitted to deal with the very complicated difficulties of his position. He had been for twenty-five years a popular and successful ruler in Tuscany, and he had always been a keenly attentive student of European politics. He had acquired in Italy some of the subtle insight

and adroitness which have always characterised the ablest Italian politi­cians. His long detachment from Vienna had freed him from many prejudices and personal relations which might otherwise have hampered or misled him. Even Kaunitz found in the new ruler a master rather than a pupil.

Leopold II did not live long enough to justify a claim to be regarded as a consummate statesman, but he certainly achieved much during the two years that he ruled in Austria. His primary aim was to avoid a war with Prussia. If that could be done without humiliating con­cessions, he might confidently hope to put down disaffection in Hungary and to recover the Netherlands. To gain his end he had two strong cards to play. He was prepared to abandon the close alliance with Russia which Joseph had concluded; and he could argue that, as that alliance had been the origin of all trouble in the East, so its termination should remove all obstacles in the way of general peace. He also firmly grasped the fact that Great Britain was not in complete accord with Prussia, and that of the two allies Great Britain was primarily hostile to Russia, whereas Prussian hostility was mainly directed against Austria. To conciliate Britain by a parade of moderation was the best and most certain method of disarming Prussia. Nor was Leopold slow to perceive the immense advantage which he had in dealing with so impulsive and vacillating a ruler as Frederick William II. The Prussian King had gone so far on the way towards war, that he could not with­draw without incurring dishonour and the imputation of treacherous dealing. Yet he allowed himself to be drawn by an adroit personal appeal into negotiations in which he was ultimately outwitted.

It would take too long to trace in detail the relations between Austria and Prussia from Leopold’s letter to Frederick William on March 25,1790, to the diplomatic conference which was opened at Reichen- bach on June 27. It was at the Prussian head-quarters in Silesia that the Austrian envoy, Spielmann, met with Hertzberg to arrange terms of peace. As between Austria and Prussia there was no insuperable objec­tion to some readjustment of Polish and Turkish territory; and Hertz­berg had confident hopes of carrying through his original scheme. But in the course of three weeks the difficulties in the Way were found to be insuperable. The Turks, who could appeal to their unfulfilled treaty with Prussia, would not agree to restore to Austria the boundary of Passarowitz. Poland, another ally of Prussia, would hear nothing of the cession of Danzig and Thom. To persist in the demands meant the alienation of two States whose support was one essential element in the strength of the Prussian position. Finally the representatives of the Maritime States, amply satisfied with the severance of Austria from Russia, declared decisively in favour of the status quo as against any scheme of territorial exchanges. Hertzberg’s project was decisively abandoned by the Prussian King; and the interchange of a number of

declarations, ratified on July 27, constituted the Convention of Reichen­bach. The gist of the agreement was that Austria should grant an immediate armistice to the Turks and open negotiations for a treaty which should restore matters as they were before the war. If, however, Austria obtained any concession, it must be freely granted by the Porte; and Prussia was entitled to claim some equivalent advantage. So long as war continued between Russia and Turkey, Austria was to remain in occupation of Choczim, but was pledged to give no assistance to the Russians. As regards the Netherlands, Austrian authority was to be restored; but an amnesty was promised, and the Provinces were to recover their old constitutions under the guarantee of Prussia and the Maritime Powers.

The Convention of Reichenbach marks a turning-point in the history of Europe. The extreme tension of the last few months was relaxed. The decisive struggle between Austria and Prussia was postponed for three-quarters of a century. Austria escaped from the most serious crisis through which she had passed since the accession of Maria Theresa. Prussia stepped down from the commanding position she had occupied since the death of Frederick the Great. The Austro-Russian alliance was at an end; and the Triple Alliance, which it had provoked, was on the verge of dissolution. Finally, the way was prepared for a new adjustment of European relations by the formation of a coalition against France.

Leopold II had scored a diplomatic triumph of no ordinary mag­nitude. He had obtained terms which under the circumstances were the best he could hope for; and he had contrived to obtain them in such a way that the allies congratulated themselves on having induced Austria to' consent. He now set himself, with equal subtlety, to minimise the stipulated intervention of the mediating Powers in the negotiations both with the Turks and with his rebellious subjects. He relied upon the confident belief that, so long as Pitt cherished the desire to oppose Russia, the English government would do nothing that might drive Austria once more into the Russian alliance. In the winter of 1790 a Congress met at Sistova to arrange a final treaty with the Turks. If Leopold had adhered to the letter of his agreement at Reichenbach, the proceedings would have been very short. But he drew an unforeseen distinction between the status quo de jure and de facto, and claimed Orsova on the ground that it ought to have belonged to Austria before the war. The result was that the negotiations were prolonged; and for a time the Congress was broken up. It was not till August 4, 1791, that the Treaty of Sistova was formally concluded. By the public articles the former boundaries were restored; but by a separate convention the Porte agreed to the cession of Orsova and a strip of territory in Croatia, on condition that the fortifications of the former should be destroyed. England made no protest; and Prussia, where Hertzberg’s policy had been completely

abandoned, made no effort to obtain the equivalent upon which so much stress had been laid at Reichenbach.

Before the conclusion of this treaty, Leopold had restored his au­thority in the Austrian dominions. He conciliated his subjects by revoking the general land-tax which Joseph had imposed, and by abandoning his predecessor’s policy of administrative uniformity and centralisation. So long as the monarchy had an adequate revenue and supreme control over military and foreign affairs, Leopold was willing to allow each province to retain its own customs and languages. Although the Hungarians were on the verge of rebellion when he came to the throne, he summoned the Hungarian Diet which had not met for nearly fifty years. To the demands, which were made for further restrictions on the royal power, he opposed a firm assertion that he would make no change in the coronation oath which had been taken by Maria Theresa. In November, 1790, he proceeded to Pressburg, and of his own accord promulgated a law that every future King should be crowned within six months of his accession. As Joseph II had refused the ceremony alto­gether, this was received as a great concession to national sentiment. The susceptible Magyars welcomed their new sovereign with enthusiasm, abandoned their distasteful demands for a new capitulation, and voted a large addition to the revenue.

About the same time a settlement was effected of the more serious difficulties in the Netherlands. There the whole conditions had been altered since Reichenbach. The Belgians had lost all hope of foreign support. The military weakness of Austria, to which the rebels owed their success in the previous year, was at an end so soon as the agreement with Prussia and the armistice with the Turks gave Leopold the free disposal of the Austrian troops. Moreover the newly created Republic was tom by internal dissensions. The ascendancy of the clericjd and reactionary politicians, like van der Noot and van Eupen, who had headed the resistance to Joseph’s reforms, was disputed by a growing democratic party which derived its principles from France. French emissaries were active in encouraging this party to demand a free national assembly; and the Congress in Brussels had to employ force in order to put down the malcontents. Leopold was already assured of success when he offered to restore the liberties of the Austrian Netherlands as they had been before the late reign, and demanded that they should return to their allegiance to himself. Unless these terms were accepted by November 21, his troops in Luxemburg, strengthened by large reinforcements, were prepared to compel submission by force of arms. The republican leaders made a vain effort to obtain better terms. They demanded that their privileges should be those which they had enjoyed under Charles VI, and appealed to the envoys of the allies, who were assembled at the Hague for the purpose of mediation. Prussia and the Maritime Powers were not unwilling to obtain all reasonable concessions for the Belgians, whose

rebellion had for a time strengthened their hands, and asked for a pro­longation of the armistice to allow time for further discussion. Leopold, however, adhered to his ultimatum, and refused to listen to a last pro­posal from Brussels to confer the sovereignty on his third son, the Arch­duke Charles. On November 22 the Austrian troops commenced their advance, and within a week they were before Brussels. Resistance was impossible. Van der Noot and Ids colleagues fled, the Congress dissolved itself, and the Belgian Republic was at an end. Meanwhile the Congress at the Hague had drawn up a Convention, guarantee..ig the Constitution of the Netherlands as it had been in the reign of Charles VI. The Austrian envoy signed it on December 10. But Leopold refused his ratification, and the Convention remained a dead letter. The allies were chagrined that their mediation was thus slighted; but they did not go beyond empty protests. In the Netherlands, as in the negotiations with Turkey, Leopold succeeded in asserting his independence of external control. He took all the gain of the Convention of Reichenbach, and evaded all that was distasteful in its provisions.

The desertion of Austria had been a serious blow to Catharine II. Russia was left alone, not merely to carry on the war with Sweden and Turkey, but also to face the less active hostility of the Triple Alliance and the growing boldness of the anti-Russian party in Poland. And Reichenbach opened the possibility of an approximation between Austria and Prussia, which would destroy the very foundation on which Russian ascendancy had hitherto rested. Catharine, however, showed equal courage and resource in meeting the first serious difficulties she had encountered since her accession. As soon as she learned with certainty that Austria would come to terms with the allies, she sent an offer of peace to Gustavus III. Sweden had proved a fair match for Russia in naval warfare; and Gustavus had recently won a brilliant victory. But his revenue was exhausted; and he could not carry on the war much longer. He felt flattered that his formidable opponent should be the first to offer terms; and the terms themselves, a return to the condition of things before the war, were precisely those which the allies were willing to demand for Sweden. His increasing desire to champion the falling monarchy in France made him eager for peace; and the Treaty of Werela was hastily concluded on August 15,1790.

This was a great blow to England and Prussia, who were preparing to assist Gustavus with money and ships. They had relied upon Swedish aid in putting pressure upon Russia, and now discovered that in case of war Sweden might actually be a Russian ally. At the same time the Russians continued their exertions against Turkey, though the odds against them were increased by the Austrian armistice. The famous storming of Ismail by Suvdroff took place towards the close of 1790. Catharine, therefore, was undismayed when she received formal notice from England and Prussia of the Convention of Reichenbach, together

with an urgent representation that she should, either of her own accord or through the medium of the allies, make peace with the Turks on the same terms as had been accepted in principle by the Emperor. Behind the representation was the implied threat that the allies were prepared to use force to compel the acceptance of their demand. It was obvious that Catharine could not carry out the original designs of Potemkin. There could be for the present no expulsion of the Turks from Europe, no Greek Empire at Constantinople, and no intermediate Christian kingdom in the Balkan peninsula. But her haughty temper forbade the acceptance of a mandate; and she was not content to emerge empty- handed from an expensive and successful war. She made it known that she was willing to make peace, but that she would retain Oczakoff on the Dniester, which had cost Potemkin so prolonged an effort in 1788.

The allies insisted that as Austria had accepted the status quo ante beUum, and, as the same concession had been given to Sweden, it was contrary to equity to allow Russia to extend its power at the expense of Turkey. A great deal was said of the immense importance of Oczakoff, which has since fallen into decay, and of the advantage which its possession as a fortress would give to Russia in any later war with Turkey. In March, 1791, Prussia once more collected her forces, and the English government demanded supplies for the equipment of a naval expedition to the Baltic. The two Powers drew up and actually despatched to St Petersburg an ultimatum, to which an answer was required within ten days. For the second time within twelve months a great European war seemed about to begin on the Eastern Question. In 179,0 it was Prussia which gave way at the critical moment, in 1791 it was England. The precise motives which induced Pitt, in the first place to attach so much importance to the restoration of Oczakoff, and in the second, place to change his mind with such rapidity, have been a subject of much discus­sion. But there can be no doubt that he believed at first that a resolute attitude would compel Russia to give way, and that he was suddenly convinced that in the face of parliamentary opposition and public indiffer­ence so resolute an attitude could not be maintained. A special messenger was in time to prevent the presentation of the ultimatum; the Foreign Secretary resigned; and Pitt had to explain to the Prussian King the peculiar difficulty of carrying on a strenuous foreign poljcy in a country blest with parliamentary institutions. Polite representations were not likely to succeed when bluster had been so feeble; and Catharine had her own way. On August 11, 1791, the preliminaries of peace with Turkey were signed at Galatz, and on January 9, 1792, they were confirmed at Jassy. Potemkin, to whose influence the whole war was largely due, had died in the autumn of 1791. The question of the partition or preservation of Turkey ceased for the moment to be a disturbing force in Europe; but events in France and in Poland led to other and more serious troubles.

CHAPTER XIL THE TERROR

The coup d'Hat of June 2,1793, had been accomplished by a union of three distinct interests, all with one immediate object—the elimination of the Gironde—but each with a totally different ulterior design. That of Danton and the Dantonist Committee of Public Safety had been simply to put the Girondins on one side, because they were an obstacle to strong government; now that this had been done, any further proceedings against the fallen party were quite opposed to their wishes. On the other hand the Robespierrists and enrages of the Convention would not be content with the results of the coup d'etat until their rivals had been not only suspended but proscribed and destroyed. Their aim being not a strong government but a Jacobin government, they regarded the Girondins as an obstacle to their own political future, and were deter­mined to remove them once for all from their path. Like the Dantonists, however, they desired to keep the profit of the insurrection for the Con­vention, arid to protect the Assembly from further molestation. But, as had so often before happened in the course of the Revolution, they had employed, to effect their ends, an intruding and usurping force, whose tyranny they were now unable to shake off; the agent employed on this occasion had been the Commune, whose conception of the ultimate ends of the coup d'Hat differed toto ccelo from those of both Dantonists and Robespierrists. The Commune was in the hands of Hebert, Chaumette, and their fellows, men who, using the vilest means, preached the downfall of religion and property, and advocated a policy of sheer atheism, anarchy, and pillage. These men had borne the main burden of the insurrection, and not unnaturally expected to reap the reward of their exertions as soon as their allies of the Corivention could put the lives and properties of respectable citizens at their mercy by the introduction of predatory legislation. The coup detat had in fact been as much a victory for the Commune over the Convention as for the Jacobins and Dantonists over the Gironde. It is indeed their apprehension of this result that explains the lukewarm attitude adopted during the crisis by the Committee of Public Safety.

At first it seemed that the Dantonists might be able to establish

their interpretation of the coup d'etat. The mild and maternal suspen­sion which they designed for the Girondins was put in force; the twenty- nine suspended deputies were merely put under guard in their own houses, even allowed to walk about Paris under supervision, while the two suspended ministers (Claviere and Lebrun), similarly guarded, actually continued for three weeks to execute their ministerial functions, being no doubt far more in sympathy with Denton's conciliatory policy than were Desforgues and Destoumelles, who ultimately (June 21) succeeded them. The Dantonist regime was also inaugurated in the armies by the appointment of Custine to the command of the Army of the North, of Beauhamais to that of the Rhine, and of Biron to that of the Vendee. On June 7 the Committee took a further step, proposing that the lives of the suspended deputies should be guaranteed by hostages, drawn from the Convention and sent by that body to the various constituencies. This fantastic proposal, however, provoked so great an outcry, that both it and a suggestion for a new Commandant of the National Guard had to be dropped.

While the Committee of Public Safety had been thus busy in putting its own construction on the events of June 2, the Commune had not been idle. On the very day of the insurrection it had put forward demands for the formation of a “ Revolutionary Army ” for internal use, for the immediate and general enforcement of the maximum, and for the levying of the forced loan on the “rich”; and on June 3 it had appointed a Committee to promote cheapness of provisions. It was backed in all these demands by the Jacobins, who did not want to lose the alliance of the Commune before the extinction of the Girondins had been completed, and whose programme therefore, as disclosed by Chabot and Billaud at the club, was for the present identical with that of the Commune. The fact that Bouchotte, the War Minister, was a nominee of Hebert, and was able, though at the expense of efficiency, to enlist the armies on his side by the dissemination of anarchical literature, told heavily in favour of the Commune. It now seemed probable that, in spite of the ascend­ancy of the Dantonists, matters would soon turn to the profit of the Hotel de Ville, when a series of reactionary outbreaks gave pause to the advocates of anarchy.

The seat of the most serious of these outbreaks was Lyons, which city, as the greatest commercial centre in France, had long, and not without reason, provoked the jealousy of the Parisian demagogues. The economic disturbance due to the Revolution had brought ruin to its prosperous industries, the decline in the silk industry alone throwing

30,000     labourers out of work. These unemployed, who were not pam­pered as in Paris by cheap, bread, and whose reasonable application for a bounty to support their failing industry was refused, were disgusted with the Revolutionary government and inclined to favour any form of reaction. After August 10,1792, Commissioners—among them Boissy

340 Reaction at Lyons, Marseilles, and Bordeaux. [1793

d’A¹' glas—had beien sent to Lyons, and their reports made it clear that an outbreak; might be expected at any moment. The Jacobin Club had of course a powerful branch at Lyons, and had got the mastery of the local Commune; but the Mayor, Niviere-Chol, was a Moderate; and when, in consequence of certain tumults, domiciliary visits were ordered (January 20,1793) and 150 persons thrown into prison (February 4), he applied to the Department for troops. The Commune opposed him, and he resigned (February 7), but was succeeded by another Moderate. At the end of February the reactionaries again triumphed and Niviere-Chol was rein­stated. In consequence of this the Convention (February 25) nominated Rovere, Bazire, and Legendre, to go to Lyons. Arriving there on March 2, they set up a local Committee of Public Safety^ quashed the recent elec­tions, and caused Chajlier, the most prominent of the local Jacobins, to be elected Mayor. Notwithstanding this, the Commissioners continued to complain in their reports of the “incivic” ton-; of the city. On May 10 a fresh batch of Commissioners arrived, at the head of whom was Dubois- Crance, and they at once joined with the local Commune and Jacobin Club to impqse on the poverty-stricken city a loan of 6,000,000 livres and a levy for the Vendee. When Challier tlireatened to carry out these measures by force, the Moderate National Guard assembled, stormed the municipal buildings, killed 200 “ patriots,” and threw Chal­lier and others into prison. Lyons was thus already up in arms before June 2, and refused entrance to Robert Lindet, who brought the news of the coup ditat^ not because it, resented the arrest of the Girondins, but because of the previous measures of the government and especially because of the forced loan and levy. Lyons therefore now lay armed and minatory, waiting to see what the government would do..

At Marseilles also the Girondist Rebecqui had obtained the expulsion of the. Convention Commissioners ; and after June 2 a battalion of volun­teers was formed to march on Paris. At Bordeaux there was even greater clamour; the Conventional Commissioners were ejected, a local Committee of Public Safety established, and representatives sent all over France to denounce the coup d'etat. At the same time Normandy declared against the Convention and commenced to prepare an army to march on the capital.

Meanwhile the insurrection in the West was growing in vigour. After their successes in March the insurgents had disbanded for Easter, and some ground was gained by the Republicans; but on April 30 a fresh rendezvous at Cholet of 30,000 men resulted after a series of battles in the clearing of the Bocage, and on May 5 the Vendeens laid siege to Thouars, a strongly fortified town far out in the Plaine on the road to Saumur. Its fall, accomplished by the heroism of de Lescure and de La Rpchejaquelein, brought the insurgents much needed supplies of arms and ammunition. May 9 and 13 saw the fall of Parthenay and of La CMtaigneraie, and on May 16 the army attacked Fontenay, the

chef-lieu of the Department. The attack was repulsed, but, with a per­sistence rare in irregular troops, was renewed on May 20; and, after a desperate battle, in which both generals and soldiers displayed the most superb courage, the Republicans were routed with great slaughter, and Fontenay, lying on the borders of Plaine and Bocage, fell into the hands of tbe Royalists. Masters of the Plaine eastward of the Bocage, they now pushed on towards the Loire; and on June 10 a brilliant assault compelled Saumur to surrender. This success, which gave access to the right bank of the Loire, was of first-rate importance. It now became necessary for the Vendien leaders to decide on their future lines of action. They determined on the boldest course—one which, had it succeeded (and it did all but succeed), would have shaken the Republic to its foundations. They decided to spread the revolt through Br.i.tanny, Normandy, and Maine, districts which they rightly regarded as well affected, and to march at the head of a united North-West against Paris itself. Such a scheme may appear foolhardy, but at the time there seemed but one obstacle to its realisation—tbe presence in rear of the army of the important and unblockaded seaport town of Nantes, where feeling ran high in favour of the Republic.

The insurgent leaders saw that the capture of Nantes must be the first step towards the realisation of the^r plans. Appointing Cathelineau commander-in-chief they advanced, some 30,000 strong, down both banks of the Loire; Angers and Ancenis surrendered without a shot fired, and on June 29 the outskirts of Nantes were reached. Charette, who, in spite of numerous repulses, had by the middle of May made himself practically master of the Marais, was able to cooperate from the south. Thus the toils closed round the city; everywhere, in Paris, in the insurgent army, in Nantes itself, capitulation was hourly expected. But it was now to be proved that courage and devotion were not the monopoly of the insurgents. Undismayed by the apparently desperate situation, unmoved by unanimous counsels of surrender, Baco, the Mayor, declared with intrepid resolution that he would resist to the death. In the few days at his disposal he put the unfortified town into a state of defence, cut the bridges, blockaded the streets, and inspired the citizens with his own courage. The insurgents after all laboured under serious disadvantages; lacking artillery, they could only hope to carry the city by assault, in which they must needs be greatly hampered by the diffi­culty of cooperation between their scattered forces. What the assault lacked in combination, however, vigour and gallantry amply supplied. At 7 a.m. on the 29th a struggle commenced, quite Homeric in its incidents of personal valour. The besiegers were unable to gain a footing in the town, and at lasti, at 4 p.m., Cathelineau, heading a final desperate onslaught, received a mortal wound. The Vendiens, with all the sensitive­ness of raw troops, fell back. The crisis of the war was over, and the Republic was saved.

But it was not in the Provinces alone that signs of reaction were showing themselves; in Paris itself all but the very scum of the population dreaded the incendiary legislation which seemed to be impending and the consequent perpetuation of insecurity. Twenty-seven of the Sections protested in no measured terms against the formation of the Revolutionary Army, with the result that that item in the Jacobin programme was shelved. The Committee of Public Safety desired to suppress the reactionary outbreaks by mild and conciliatory measures, and was even ready to amnesty the rebels if the extremists could be persuaded to allow it. The Committee had on June 7 gone so far as to cashier Hanriot and dissolve the Revolutionary Committees of the Sections, but the outcry of the extremists caused them to draw back. Danton himself, although in his speeches he continued to pander to the lowest tastes of the proletariate, in order to secure the support of the Hebertists, in his heart desired that the attacks on property and order should cease; and now, in face of the numerous signs of reaction, the extremists found it necessary to temporise and to allay the fears of the bourgeois by the postponement of their predatory schemes. With this object on June 24 a new Constitution, introduced by Herault, was passed; but, as it was never intended to come into operation, being merely a manifesto to propitiate, the bourgeoisie, its enforcement was postponed “ until the peace.” This dummy Constitution was purposely Dantonist in tone, and in it all predatory suggestions were carefully sup­pressed ; the clause on property simply asserted that society was bound to support the poor either by work or alms, and the clause on foreign relations, though it accepted Marat’s dictum that “all free peoples were allies,” was careful to lay down the neo-Dantonist doctrine of non-intervention.

This temporising on the part of the Mountain provoked a fierce outburst of anger from its extreme supporters. These men, Varlet, Roux, Leclerc, Desfieux, Proly, and a host of others drawn from the very dregs of the population and moved only by a desire for disorder and plunder, had been the heart and soul of the recent insurrection. They detested the moderation of the Constitution, and on June 25 and 26 laid their complaints before the Convention and the Commune. Meeting however with scant encouragement from either, they set to work to plunder on their own account; and for two days Paris was freely pillaged without interference on the part of the authorities, the rioters being finally appeased only by the distribution amongst them of a large anm of money from the Treasury; after which the Constitution was proclaimed and couriers despatched to communicate it to the Depart­ments, where on the whole it was favourably received.

It was now, however, plain to the Committee, even to Danton him­self, that the plans for conciliation were doomed to failure. It required a man of all Danton’s resolution and intrepidity to advocate, after a

past so bloody and violent, a return to order and moderation; it would have required a man of even more sagacity and persistence than his to carry out such a policy. To men of the cowardly type of Robespierre, the fear that the restoration of moderate and equable government would be the signal for vengeance on them for their innumerable crimes over­powered every other feeling, so that they were pledged to further violence by that most powerful incentive, the fear of retribution. The policy of compromise advocated by Danton was thus utterly abhorrent to the extreme party; the peace which he preached would involve the prompt execution of the leading Jacobins; the retention of Custine meant the impeachment of Bouchotte; an amnesty to Lyons, for which Danton was eager, would hand over the “ patriots ” of that city to a just and certain retribution. So the Jacobins came to regard Danton as a man dangerous to their very lives, and, with the instinct of self-preservation, they prepared to strike at him.

On July 8 a report of the Committee of Public Safety on the suspended Girondins was read. It proposed the proscription of nine of the fugitive deputies, the impeachment of five others, and the reinstatement of the remainder. Severe as it seems, it was in reality the last helpless cry of the conciliatory spirit in face of the advance of inevitable tyranny and terror; and its moderation was at once made the pretext for the down­fall of Danton and his Committee. The allotted term of that body was reached on July 10, and, no attempt being made to extend the period, it was suffered to lapse; and, in the new Committee elected on the same day, the power which had been gradually slipping out of the hands of the moderate or Dantonist Jacobins was finally transferred to the extreme or Robespierrist section. True, Robespierre himself, with characteristic caution, was not a candidate for the new Committee; but, as soon as it was securely established, he began to attend its meetings, and on the resignation of Gasparin (July 24) hastened to get himself nominated. The members elected on July 10 were Jean Bon Saint-Andr^, Barere, Gasparin, Couthon, Herault, Thuriot, Prieur of the Marne, Saint-Just, and Robert Lindet. Of these Barere and Lindet had been original members of the first Committee, Herault, Couthon, and Saint-Just had been members since May 80, Jean Bon Saint-Andr^ and Gasparin since June 12. Of the nine members only two, Herault and Thuriot, were Dantonists; the whole of the remainder, including Barere who was Dantonist only so long as Danton’s predominance was assured, owned the sway of Robespierre; above all Couthon and Saint-Just were his intimate allies. The salient feature, however, was not the substitution of Robespierrists for Dantonists, for the old Committee after June 12 had comprised a majority of the former, so much as the elimination of Danton himself. Though he continued to speak in the Convention, and —in the vain hope of inducing the new rulers to adopt his views—to advocate the further strengthening of the Committee, and though for a

time there was a kind of alliance between him and Robespierre, July 10 marks the decline of Danton’s influence and the rejection of his policy. In March he had set himself to create an alkpowerful government, with the object of restoring equilibrium to politics at home and abroad; his masterful genius had succeeded in .forging the weapon, but—strong as he was—he found it impossible to prevent it slipping from his hands; and in July it was snatched from him to be used for ends diametrically opposed to those for which he had designed it. Men moved by alternate spasms of ambition and cowardice now seized the reins of power, and democracy run mad was unchained and at large.

This Second, or Great, Committee of Public Safety experienced in its first few months of power a few changes of personnel, but after September 6 remained unchanged until July 27, 1794. As during this period the Committee was the absolute master of France, it is necessary to have a clear idea of its working and of the relations of its members one to another. On August 14 Carnot and Prieiir of the Cdte d’Or were added to replace provisionally Saint-Andre and Robert Lindet, who had gone on mission ; but, proving indispensable, they were permanently retained. On September 6 Billaud-Varennes and Collot d’fierbois were introduced, so that after the retirement of Thuriot and Herault the Committee numbered eleven.    ^:

It is plain that a vast work of reorganisation fell to this small knot of men. They found no staff of permanent officials, no existing adminis­trative machinery ; everything had to be organised from the very foun­dation. The men, who set themselves to accomplish this enormous task, were Ca'rnot,' Saint-Andre, the two PrieuTs, and Robert Lindet. Camot, a man of forty years, had been deputy for the Pas-de-Cialais in both Legislative ahd Convention. Absolutely upright and single-minded, he determined to sacrifice everything to the reorganisation of the army. To effect this he succeeded in deadening every,other feeling and was content to Share the odium of the Terror, so long as he was allowed to be supreme in his own department. He would have been a superlative permanent official; but he lacked the comprehensive views necessary to a grelat statesman, and he had practically no influence on the general, policy of the government of which he was a member. Saint-Andr^ w&s another honest official of the same type; throughout the Terror he was absorbed in a whole-hearted effort to restore efficiency to the ruined Navy. Prieur of the Cote d’Or was Carnot’s right-hand man, and like him absorbed in the pressing needs of the armies; while his namesake of the Department of the Marne, being constantly on mission, hardly ever attended the meetings of the Committee. These men cannot be held guilty of,the bloody policy adopted by their colleagues, save in so far as they passively , acquiesced in it in order to maintain themselves in office. To Collot and Billaud, the one a dissolute cut-throat, the other a gloomy fanatic, both delighting in crime for crime’s sake, leaning in faict to the

school of Hubert, the savage excesses of the Terror may be attributed; to them these excesses were the gratification of natural ferocity, while to Robespierre and his immediate satellites, Couthon and Saint-Just, they were the logical reduction into practice of a political theory. Of Robes­pierre some note has already been made in these pages. Cowardice and ambition were for ever at variance within him. Ambition had thrust him into a position to fall from which involved cortain retribution; cowardice therefore prompted him to avoid this retribution by striking with blind and bitter fury at all opponents. What might be mistaken for courage was thus in reality the violence of a desperate and terrified creature. Georges Couthon, Robespierre’s devoted adherent in the Com­mittee, was of Auvergne; of Robespierre’s own age and profession, he seems to have genuinely cared for and believed in his leader; the partial paralysis which gave a certain pathos to his appearances in the tribune did not prevent his engaging actively in missions, to the management of which he brought a certain capacity of independent discrimination, rare in his colleagues. Closely allied with Robespierre and Couthon was Antoine Louis Leon de Saint-Just. No more than twenty-five years old when he entered the Convention, Saint-Just immediately identified himself with all the most violent and most visionary measures; endowed with an iron courage, rigid conviction, and that faculty of decision which Robespierre so conspicuously lacked, he now constantly came forward to supply the deficiencies of his leader. His fantastic dreams of a -egenerated society were however too puerile even for Robespierre,^: who tolerated them only because he required the fearless energy of 'his young colleague to effect his own designs.

The new government did not delay to show its hand. The period of conciliation, which had been abnormal and a mere tour-de-force of Danton, was at an end ; and the era of blind and indiscriminate violence commenced The attitude of the government towards the revolted Provinces was at once altered Normandy had indeed ceased to trouble. On July 13 a skirmish had taken place at Vernon between the “Army of Calvados,” which had been ostentatiously moving on Paris in the Girondin interest, and some Parisian volunteers, aided by the local National Guard; and the insurgents ran away. The few Girondin deputies, who had i3 anaged to escape to Caen to foment the Norman insurrection, then took ship for Bordeaux, and Normandy ceased to be a centre of reaction. But in the Vendee, Lyons, and the south, resistance to the Jacobins continued. Lyons had by this time openly declared war. A Royalist veteran, the Comte de Precy, was in command of a formidable force of

40,000     National Guards with 300 guns; and every preparation was made for a stout resistance. On the very first day. of its existence the new Committee showed that, for Lyons, the era of conciliation was over; on Couthon’s motion, the leaders of the revolt were proscribed and the property of the Lyons “rebels” confiscated for the benefit of the local

“ patriots ”—a direct enticement to men to take arms against the city for the lining of their own pockets. Utterly regardless of the safety of the frontiers, the Committee next instructed Kellermann to lead 6000 men against Lyons. The Lyonnais replied by executing Challier; but they offered to make terms if Couthon’s decrees were withdrawn. Dubois-Crance, the Conventional Commissioner, however, insisted on unconditional surrender; and on August 8 hostilities commenced. In the Vendee also July 10 was the signal for a new regime. A bloody code of fire and slaughter was imposed upon the revolted districts (August 1), with the result that on September 5 it was reported that “ des monceaux de cendres, la mort, la famine s’offrent de tous cotes aux regards des rebeUes.” Such effect, however, as these severities might have produced was largely neutralised by the policy, simultaneously adopted, of appointing incapable “ popular ” generals. Biron, Danton’s nominee, was arrested, and the command in the Vendee was given to Rossignol, who was not only a tipsy and dissolute scoundrel, but a stupid dnd ignorant coward to boot; so much so that he was suspended on August 22 by the Convention’s own Commissioners, only however to be reinstated six days later. It was at this time also (July 12) that, in the Army of the North, Houchard replaced Custine, who was arrested on July 22, condemned by the Revolutionary Tribunal, and executed (August 28).

The enforcement of these violent measures had been greatly facilitated by the course events were taking at home as well as at the front. On July 13 Paris was startled by the intelligence of the assassination of Maiat. The “ Ami du Pewple,” confined to his house by sickness, was in his bath, when a woman named Charlotte Corday, of Caen, penetrated to his apartment and plunged a dagger into his heart. She seems to have been actuated not only by private motives of revenge but also by a genuine desire to avenge the Girondins. It appears indeed that Charlotte Corday —and she half-mad—was the only person in France who sincerely regretted the once idolised Gironde. The death of Marat in this dramatic fashion was of enormous value to the new government. He had, it is true, long lost his importance, and his bloodthirsty ravings and avowed policy of murder had been more calculated to embarrass than to aid his colleagues. Alive, therefore, he would have been a positive obstacle; dead, however, and dead in a manner so sensational, he was a perfect godsend. The very men, who would have found him so awkward a colleague, fell into paroxysms of eulogy : Marat was promptly deified and his remains buried with extravagant pomp on July 19; Charlotte was of course tried and executed; advantage was taken of the spontaneous act of an enthusiast to persuade people of the existence of vast Girondin in­trigues, and of the consequent necessity for harsh and violent measures.

Events at the front had also played into the hands of the Committee, for the month of July had been a month of disaster for France. On

July 12 the allies took Conde; on the 23rd Mainz was compelled to surrender; and on the 28th Valenciennes capitulated to Coburg. Once more Paris seemed open to the advance of the Allies; it was a repetition of August, 1792. But the danger was in reality not so great as it appeared. The Allies, hopelessly divided, were united only in their determination not to invade. Of this determination the Committee was perfectly well aware, and, secure in the knowledge that Paris was safe, it welcomed tbe reverses of July as an admirable lever for use in domestic politics. The apparent danger of Prance gave it the excuse for removing obnoxious generals, for increasing the power of the Revo­lutionary Tribunal, for violent measures against foreigners, for atrocities on a colossal scale in the Vendee, for the commencement of proceedings against the Queen, and, what it now desired most of all, for the completion of tbe downfall of the Girondins.

The proscribed deputies were still wandering about France fomenting ineffectual disturbances. Neither at Bordeaux nor in any other part of the country was there any serious outbreak in their favour, and the Committee could have afforded to treat them with indifference. It was not however inclined to do so, thinking no doubt that a ruthless vengeance would be a warning to future rivals. The “ Moderate ” report of July 8 was subjected therefore to the revision of Barere, who proposed (July 28) the outlawry of twenty-one of the Girondins for rebellion, and the trial of nine others for complicity therein. This second report, although adopted, had little immediate effect; and for two months more tbe threatened deputies remained at large.

The new government was in fact not yet sufficiently sure of its position to be able to proceed to extremities. The completion of the Constitution should, by rights, have heralded the spontaneous dissolution of the Convention—Committee of Public Safety and all—but Convention and Committee were united in their determination to cling to power, knowing what to expect if they let go. Danton, who was still bidding for the favour of the new rulers, identified himself with this policy of prolonging the power of the Committee; and it was he who, with a boldness from which the Committee itself shrank, proposed (August 1) “that the Committee of Public Safety be erected into a Provisional Government.” But the outcry provoked by this suggestion terrified tbe Committee into a disavowal of their too outspoken advocate. Robes­pierre, however, desired to retain for the time being the alliance of Danton against the threatened combination of Commune, War Office, and gutter-politicians, which was just as objectionable to the new as to the old Committee. It was the old story. Robespierre had used the Hebertists to drive Danton from office; by doing so he had given them a dangerous access of strength, and he was now obliged to employ the waning but still potent influence of the great demagogue to lay the evil genius which he had himself let loose.

To the Hebertists, power and office, affording as they did the most convenient opportunities for plunder and patronage, were the only goal of politics; and they were not content to leave the prizes of victory to Robespierre any more than to Danton. All through the month of August they were busy pushing forward measures calculated to increase their own power. On August 10 the f&te of the Constitution had been celebrated; and on the very next day Lacroix had the courage to propose that the Convention should fulfil its Constitutional obligations by dis­solving itself—a propc.sal which was greeted with a storm of execrations. On the same day the Hebertists, through the representatives of the provincial Communes, who were in Paris for the fete, demanded a levee- en-masse of the people of France. This was no doubt a splendid inspiration. As a military expedient it was of course ludicrous and calculated to produce paralysis in every department of the War Office; for there were neither rations, arms, clothes, nor officers for such a levy. This however mattered not at all to the advocates of the scheme. To them it commended itself, not for any military reason, but because it both had an air of patriotism and was an admirable means for getting all Moderates out of the way. The impracticability of the proposal aroused the opposition of Danton; he took up the cry for the levy, but pointed out the folly of making it universal; “ il faut mourir,'" he said, “pour la patrie, mais ilfaut mourir utilement.'" Thus the proposal was converted by the genius of Danton, backed by Carnot and Prieur of the Cote d’Or, from the collection of a clumsy and powerless rabble to the orderly enlistment of an effective body of recruits. Only those between the ages of 18 and 25 were called out. This whittling down of their scheme was a severe blow to the Hebertists; but the military results of an addition of 450,000 men to the armies were in the end considerable.

Danton’s interference in this matter of the levee served to widen the breach between him and the Hebertists; and the defeat of Hebert himself by Par£, an intimate of Danton, in the election of a Minister of the Interior to replace Garat (August 20), made matters worse. Feeling was thus running very high, when, in the early days of September, arrived the startling news that Toulon, with the chief fleet of France, had sur­rendered on August 23 to the English admiral, Hood. The disaffection of the two great southern seaports of Marseilles and Toulon had for some weeks past causted grave anxiety to the government. Marseilles, after June 2, had expelled the Conventional Commissioners, and des­patched an army against Paris which had penetrated as far as Orange, only however to be driven from Avignon on July 27 by Carteaux, who had been detached with 1500 men from the Army of the Alps. Carteaux twice defeated the Marseillais, and finally entered Marseilles on August 25. The antagonism of Toulon had been roused by provocations similar to those which had stirred Lyons to resistance. The Jacobin intrigue and

1793] The Hibertist ascendancy.^-The law ofForty Sous. 349

violence, which had long troubled the city, culminated on July 14 in a scheme to murder respectable citizens. Such a threat provoked them to retaliate; a new municipality was formed, and five murderers were executed. This insurrection was therefore, like that of Lyons, mainly a struggle for personal security. The Conventional Commissioners were now arrested, and Louis XVII proclaimed; but Barras and Freron, the Commissioners to the Army of Italy, worked with energy and prudence to check the spread of the revolt; and, after the defeat of the Marseillais had removed all hope of aid from that quarter, the men of Toulon determined to invite the allied fleets, which were blockading the harbour, to occupy the town.

The fall of Toulon was a climax to the disasters of the Republic, and was the signal for a great outburst of revolutionary activity. The early days of September saw the introduction of a series of decrees which may be held to have finally established the Terror. On September 3 the compulsory loan of 1000 millions was enforced, the maximum for corn further reduced, and arbitrary steps taken for the provisioning of Paris. On September 5 the action of the Revolutionary Tribunal was expedited by its division into four sections. Further, on the demand of Chaumette, the dominating spirit of the Commune, a Revolutionary Army of 6000 men was established, to patrol Paris, make war on reactionaries, guard provisions, and carry out revolutionary laws, a measure which gave legal status and organisation to those bands of armed and dangerous ruffians which had long, but hitherto illegally, been the scourge of respectable Paris. Private houses were next thrown open to search; the Sectional Assemblies were renovated, and received power to arrest; and, to ensure their efficiency, the “ Law of Forty Sous ” was passed, on the motion of Danton (September 5), arranging for two Section meetings a week and a salary of 40 sous for each attendance.

These measures, provoked and excused by the apparently desperate situation of the Republic, were welcomed by the Hebertists as a triumph for their opinions. Their ascendancy was further emphasised by the introduction into the Committee of Public Safety, on September 6, of Billaud and Collot, both of whom were thoroughly imbued with Hebertist doctrines. Billaud had marked his return (on August 29) from a mission to the Army of the North by the delivery of a venomous attack on the Committee for the evil plight in which he had found that army. It was tantamount to a vote of censure; and it was to stop the mouth of so dangerous a critic that the Committee elected him a member and with him introduced his kindred spirit, Collot. With these two men entered the element of Hebertism, of sheer, brutal, impolitic violence; and on the day of their election the Committee may be said to have finally started on the inclined plane of crime.

On September 9 the Hebertists further captured the subordinate but important Comiti de Surete Generale, which had the control of police

affairs, and which had hitherto been tinder the influence of Danton. The Commune also secured a grant of a million weekly for the provisioning of Paris, five-sixths of which actually found its way into the pockets of the municipalfunctionaries: one may be certain that this was not the least acceptable of the advantages which September brought to the Hebertists. The new regime was completed (September 17) by the introduction of the “ Law of the Suspect.” This infamous law, “ the procuress of the guillotine,” was the work of the distinguished jurist, Merlin of Douai; it defined suspects as “ all who had befriended tyranny, not paid taxes, or who were not furnished with‘ Cartes de Civisme ’ from their Sections.” All such were to be arrested and could be tried by any tribunal; and the Revolutionary Committees of the Sections were to draw up lists of suspects for the Comite de Sivrete Generate. This law renewed and completed the tyranny of the Sections. On the same day the maximum, which had already, limited as its action was, plunged the Provinces into the most terrible destitution, was extended to other commodities besides com; and the “crime” of withdrawing such commodities from sale was made punishable by death and confiscation. All freedom of agriculture and trade was thus destroyed, and the State assumed the entire control of both.

The extremists of the Convention and the Committee now con­sidered themselves strong enough to proceed with the long-postponed impeachment of the Girondins. The last remnants of the power of the Dantonists were disappearing; Thuriot, disgusted at the' introduction of Billaud and Collot, had retired from the Committee (September 20). Danton himself was meditating withdrawal to his home at Arcis. Robespierre and his friends, who had been waiting their opportunity with relentless patience, were not slow to avail themselves of it. On October 3 the doors of the Convention were suddenly locked; and Amar, a friend of Robespierre and a member of the Comite de SAreti Generate, introduced the Report of that Committee on the proscribed Girondins. In this fierce measure no less than 129 deputies were implicated; and so cowed was the Convention that not a protest was raised. Forty-three deputies were handed over to the Revolutionary Tribunal, and sixty-five placed under arrest, while the decree of outlawry of July 28 was main­tained against twenty-one. Amongst the forty-three was the name of Philippe ]£galit£, included no doubt in order to cast upon the Girondins the odium of Orleanisme, a crime of which the Jacobins alone had been guilty. A proposal to include in the proscription the seventy-five signa­tories of a protest against the coup d’itai of June 2, all members of the Right or Centre, was postponed on the suggestion of Robespierre; and to this diplomatic act of clemency he owed that subservience of the Plain, on which he eventually came to depend. Only twenty-one of the forty-three were immediately forthcoming, and they were placed in confinement pending the commencement of proceedings.

The violence of the attack on the Girondins, as well as all the revo­lutionary legislation of September, was Hebertist in origin, and largely due to the presence on the Committee of Billaud and Collot. But it was not the intention of the Robespierrists to allow the Commune or the Hebertist Ministry to oust the Committee of Public Safety. On the contrary they had consented to include the Hebertist element in the exist­ing government, only as a bribe to induce that powerful party to refrain from any attempt to establish another form of government. And now the Committee felt that the time had come when they must declare their own permanence and that of the Convention; for this declaration the ground had been carefully prepared by petitions procured from the Departments, imploring the Convention not to desert France in the hour of danger. On October 10 therefore Saint-Just proposed that “the government be revolutionary until the peace”; and thus the final step was taken by which the Constitution was overridden and the permanent usurpation of the Committee definitely avowed.

Simultaneously with this declaration came the momentous news of the fall of Lyons. On August 8 the siege had been commenced by Kellermann; but, as there were not sufficient forces to invest the city, Dubois-Crance ordered its bombardment. About the middle of Septem­ber famine became serious, and by the end of the month the besiegers, whose numbers now reached 50,000, were able to storm the outworks. Precy, seeing that all was lost, cut his way out and escaped with about 2000 followers, leaving the city in the hands of the Republicans. Couthon was at once sent to demolish the town; but, although a savage Terrorist, he was not a Hebertist, and saw the folly of such a proceeding. He therefore delayed the execution of the sentence and established a com­paratively mild Terror, with the result that, on October 29, he was recalled, and Collot himself, accompanied by Fouche and other picked men, with 3000 of the Parisian Revolutionary Army, proceeded to Lyons and introduced a system of wholesale massacres. The ordinary methods being too dilatory, prisoners were shot down in large batches, and in seven of these “ mitraillades” no less than 484 persons were killed. The total number of victims under the bloody rule of Collot and Fouche has been variously estimated, and may have been anything from 1600 to 6000. On October 26 the demolition of houses, begun under Couthon, proceeded at a cost of 400,000 francs a day until a considerable portion of the city was destroyed.

Thus auspiciously opened the absolute reign of the Committee. But it was not at Lyons alone that fortune smiled upon the Republican arms; and the late autumn of 1793 was as much a period of Republican successes as the early autumn had been of reverses. Everywhere the tireless energy, organising capacity, and military judgment of Carnot and the “workers” of the Committee began to have effect. On October 16 Jourdan won the battle of Wattignies; Pichegru and Hoche commenced

352 The siege of Toulon. Napole&n Bonaparte. [1793

offensive operations in November; and on December 26 the latter forced the lines of Weissenburg and drove the Prussians from Alsace.

Meanwhile Carteaux after the capture of Marseilles had laid siege to Toulon. The siege, of Toulon derives much of its interest from the fact that it introduces a new and fateful character into- the drama of the Revolution, for here Napoleon Bonaparte may be said to have won his spurs. Of Florentine extraction on both sides, Bonaparte had been bom in Corsica on August 15, 1769. His father had been identified with the cause of the patriot Pauli until the island was handed over to France. Accepting these new rulers he succeeded in getting his son Napoleon admitted to the military academy at Brienne (April, 1779), in which school and in the military academy of Paris he was trained, until in 1785 he received a commission in the French regiment of La Fere. During this period and until 1790 Napoleon was absorbed in dreams of the inde­pendence of Corsica; but a personal rebuff from his idol, Paoli, caused him to identify himself with France and the Revolution. He seems to have had powerful friends, and after the events of June 20 and August 10, of both of which crises he was an eye-witness, he received a Captain’s Commission and became the devoted servant of the Revolution. Bona­parte now returned to Corsi ca and attempted to play the double part of Patriot and Revolutionary, identifying the salvation of Corsica with the suzerainty of France. Paoli however appealed to England and the Bonapartes were obliged to take refuge in France.

Napoleon’s services were employed in the campaign of Carteaux against Marseilles, but he had no share in the fate of that town, being left behind to reorganise the artillery at Avignon. Here he was found by the Convention Commissioners, Salicetti and the younger Robespierre, on their way to join the army; and to them he showed a pamphlet with the Composition of which he had—not we may imagine without ulterior motives—been beguiling the distasteful moments of inaction. This pamphlet, Le Souper de Beaucaire, was an admirable presentation of the most telling arguments in favour of the Jacobin government, and well calculated to win the approbation of the Commissioners, who now became eager to push forward so promising a young Republican. Carteaux had advanced against Toulon with some 40C-J men, and was joined by a division of the Army of Italy, with whom were Freron and Barras. After the fall of Lyons more troops became available; the command was given to Dugommier; and the siege began in earnest. By the influence of the friendly commissioners Bonaparte now secured the command of a battery. The strategy by which the town was taken, the essential part of which was the seizure of Cepet, a promontory that commanded both the inner and the outer harbours, has often been attributed to him; it seems however improbable that he was the author of it, although, by his vigour and the skill with which he directed the artillery, he contributed much to its success. The English and

Spaniards soon found the harbour untenable, i and, carrying off a number of the inhabitants, and either towing away or destroying about one half of the French ships, they abandoned Toulon to the Republicans, who entered the city on December 19. The surrendered town was at once handed over to the Convention Commissioners; they used their powers with extreme ferocity, fusilladed in three days some 800 citizens, and established a Revolutionary Tribunal which destroyed about 1800 persons within three months.

At length the war in the west, after many unexpected vicissitudes, seemed to be nearing its close. The peril, to which Nantes, and with Nantes the Republic, had been subjected in June, had determined the government that the insurrection was not to be trifled with. Wester- mann was instructed to create a diversion in the Bocage, where he began to lay waste the country; but his violence only provoked reprisals, and his temerity led to his defeat at Chatillon (July 5), when he barely escaped by precipitate flight. Throughout July concerted efforts were made by the Republicans to establish a footing in the Bocage; but, although they took Chantonnay (July 23), they were unable to hold it, and at the end of the month the insurgents were still masters of their,own country, devastated though it was.

Enormous reinforcements, including the liberated garrison of Mainz, were now hurried westwards. But the appointment of the ruffian Rossignol to the chief command (July 27) did not aid matters. On August 1 the government carried a fierce decree that the revolted districts should be devastated and depopulated, in face of which the insurgent leaders swore to continue their resistance to the death. D’Elbee replaced Cathelineau as commander-in-chief: he was probably the least capable of the possible leaders, and his first action was disastrous. A concen­tration of the insurgent forces of both Bocage and Marais was effected against the important town of Lu^on, the capture of which would have established permanent communications between the two districts. Owing however to blundering leadership, and to the unfavourable nature of the open ground, where artillery, in which arm they were very deficient; told so heavily, the insurgents sustained the most bloody defeat of the war, and fled eastwards, leaving, it was said, 6000 dead upon the field. Chan­tonnay fell once more into the hands of the Republicans, only however to be retaken on September 5, after a struggle in which Lucjon was fully avenged. The insurgents were also victorious in no less tban five other pitched battles between September 18 and 22, the most important of which was that of Torfou-Tiffauges, where the impetuous valour of the Vendeens bore down, after seven hours’ fighting, even the resistance of the stubborn defenders of Mainz; and a complete rout was only averted by the coolness of Kleber.

Now however the weakness inherent in undisciplined levies began to show itself in personal quarrels between the leaders. Charette took

offence over some petty question of booty and suddenly withdrew into the Marais. His desertion sadly weakened the grande armee; and, several reverses having been sustained, Bonchamps, the most experienced of its generals, counselled a second crossing of the Loire and the exe­cution of the old plan of raising a rebellion in Normandy and Britanny. Before adopting this expedient, however, it was determined to make one final effort to clear the Bocage. Cholet, its strongest eastern outwork, was being threatened by the Republicans, and it was decided to give battle there. Four thousand men were first detached to secure the passage of the Loire—a precaution which, although no doubt strategi­cally correct, was disastrous in its moral effect, as it laid bare to the peasants the despairing attitude of their leaders, and rendered them, when the crisis came, only too willing to adopt the means of safety pro­vided. During the whole of October 16, Cholet, a country town perched on a gentle wooded eminence overlooking the eastward Plaine, was the scene of a desperate struggle. Towards evening a scare of Republican reinforcements arose and with it the fatal cry “a la Loire.'" In a last magnificent charge Bonchamps and d’Elbee were both mortally wounded; and once more, as at Nantes, the fall of their leaders completed the discomfiture of the peasants, who turned in headlong flight towards the river. Four thousand Vendeens were dead on the field; their two most trusted leaders lay dying; the remnant of the army was in hopeless rout. It is no wonder that the Republicans regarded the insurrection as at an end.

L’^chelle, however, the incompetent successor of the incompetent Rossignol, was quite unprepared for the crossing of the Loire, and unable either to prevent it or to pursue. The majority of the peasants dispersed to their homes, but some 50,000 of the boldest, accompanied by a host of women and children, established themselves unmolested on the right bank of the Loire. But Bonchamps, the deviser of the plan, and the one man who might have brought it to a successful issue, was dying, and it became necessary to appoint a new commander. Henri de La Rochejaquelein, on whom the choice fell, glorious and inspiring hero though he was, a tactician of real genius, and in battle the bravest of the brave, lacked the necessary experience—he was but twenty-one— and had neither the temper nor the wisdom in council required to extricate the army from its perilous position. No sooner was the crossing effected than divided counsels prevailed; the wounded Lescure advised a fresh advance on Nantes, others an advance into Britanny or Normandy. While they deliberated, the chance of advancing on Nantes slipped away ; and it was less by choice than of necessity that the army pushed northwards and on October 28 occupied Laval.

Meanwhile the Republicans, at last grasping the situation, had flung themselves across the Loire; and on October 25 their vanguard, under Westermann, engaging the insurgents somewhat prematurely, was roughly

handled and compelled to fall back. Two days later the main body came up, and battle was joined at CMteau Gontier. The Republicans were now to find that, even as fugitives, their opponents were formidable. De La Rochejaquelein signalised his first appearance in supreme command by a display not only of his customary valour, but also of real tactical skill. The incompetence of L’l£chelle was as conspicuous as the capacity of his opponent. The Republican army was driven in hopeless confusion over the Mayenrie, and L’^chelle fled to hide his shame at Nantes. It was now dear that the battle of Cholet had by no means ended the Vendeen resistance. In order to pursue the fugitive insurgents the Republicans had evacuated the Vendee itself; and Charette, who had, since his desertion of the grande armke, been more than holding his own in the Marais, now returned to Lege, and became a rallyihg-point for further resistance.

Once more, however, the Republicans were aided by the divided counsels of their antagonists. La Rochejaquelein had the wisdom to advocate a return to the Vendee, but neither the patience nor the self­confidence to press his views, with the consequence thait the army struck blindly northwards, and occupied Mayenne (November 2), Fougeres (November 4), and Dol (November 9). Then, in the vague hope of half-promised assistance from England, they attacked the small fortified seaport town of Granville, only to find themselves powerless against even the weakest fortifications for want of suitable artillery.

After this failure the insurgent generals advocated a withdrawal into Normandy; but the peasants, now when it was too late, were seized with an overpowering desire to return home, and, much against his will, La Rochejaquelein turned southward again. With the courage bom of despair, he snatched on November 18 and 20 two victories from the Republicans, and entered Dol. These successes of the dwindling and disheartened, but still dangerous army, may be largely attributed to the incapacity of Rossignol; and it was ofaly the sagacity of his subordinates, Kleber and Marceau, that prevented their being turned into disasters to the Republican army. So disorganised were the Republicans that they could not prevent the insurgents from reaching Angers, which was saved only by the strength of its fortifications. An attempt was now made by the insurgents of the Bocage to secure a oassagr for their fugitive compatriots, but it was too late. Doubling eastwards in the hope of effecting¹ a crossing at Saumur or Tours, the grande armee, reduced now to some 25,000 broken men, was overtaken at Le Mans by Kleber, Marceau, and Westermann. A bloody victoiy was followed by a wanton butchery of prisoners; 15,000 persons are said to have perished in this terrible affair (December 13).

It was now only a question of how many fugitives could slip across the river ; the fate of those who remained on the right bank was sealed. Struggling back to Ancenis, La Rochejaquelein and Stofflet, in a fruitless

attempt to get the army across by means of a single boat, were cut off from their troops. Plying westwards, amidst every circumstance of horror, the leaderless remnant was at length overtaken by Kleber at Savenay (December 23), where, though not without an heroic and desperate resistance, the last of the grand Royal and Catholic army, which had so long troubled the Republic, and for a while even threatened its very existence, was utterly cut to pieces. After this final defeat the war might have been brought to an end had the government but consented to act with reasonable clemency; its continuance, after the annihilation of the main body of the insurgents, is to be attributed to the insane violence of the Committee and its emissaries. Nantes and Angers were already furnished with Revolutionary Tribunals; the perpe­tration of most wholesale atrocities had commenced; and Carrier, finding that the Revolutionary Tribunal of Nantes could not dispose of more than 200 victims in a day, conceived the idea of drowning his prisoners in large batches. Great barges, filled with unfortunates of all ages and both sexes, were scuttled in the Loire. In this ghastly fashion not less than 1500 persons perished, possibly many more. A total of at least

15,000     suffered in different fashions during Carrier’s four months’ rule at Nantes. Little wonder that, even after Savenay, the insurgents preferred to remain under arms rather than be done to death in cold blood.

While the active members of the Committee were engaged in subjugating the revolted districts and in driving the allies across the frontiers, its Terrorist members were busily occupied in establishing their system both in the Provinces and in Paris itself. In Paris their first step was to institute proceedings against Marie-Antoinette. The unfortunate Queen, who had been separated from her family on July 1, and transferred to the Conciergerie on September 1, was there subjected to preliminary interrogations by the Comite de S&rete Genirale, while the royal children were examined with shocking indecency by Pache, Chaumette, Hebert, David, and Simon. On October 14 the Queen appeared before the Revolutionary Tribunal, and replied, with great dignity and remarkable skill; to the fierce examination of Hermann, the President. On October 15 Fouquier-Tinville, the Public Prosecutor, delivered his accusation, in which he charged the Queen with (i.) handing large sums of money to the Emperor before the Revolution; (ii.) encouraging a Counter-Revolution; (iii.) producing famine; (iv.) plotting flight and instigating “massacres,” in particular that of the Champ de Mars ; (v.) forming the “ Austrian Committee ”; (vi.) the vetoes ; (vii.) planning August 10; (viii.) betraying French plans to the allies; (ix.) incestuous intercourse with her son (aged eight). Witnesses were called, and the Queen was subjected to a fierce and prolonged examina­tion. As she had had no notice of the nature of the charges, she was of course unable to cross-examine or to call witnesses on her side. Her

counsel’s defence was perfunctory, and, after Hermann had summed up and the jury had deliberated fof an hour, a verdict of “ Guilty on all counts ” was brought in. At 7 a.m. on October 16 Marie-Antoinette was conveyed in a cart to the Place de la Revolution. She ignored the attentions of the Constitutional cure, bore with indifference the insults of the mob, and met her death with the same dignified courage which had characterised her behaviour throughout the proceedings.

The Queen’s trial over, the attention of the Tribunal was at once transferred to the proscribed Girondins, who since October 3 had been awaiting trial in the Conciergerie. Of the twenty-one, who on October 24 appeared at the bar, the most prominent were Brissot, Vergniaud, and Gensonne. They presented a defence thoroughly Girondin in spirit; each man, in spite of the knowledge that he was prejudged, was base enough to try and prove himself a Montagnard. After six sittings Fouquier complained of the slowness of the pro­ceedings ; and on October 29 it was enacted that after two days the jury might declare themselves satisfied of the guilt or innocence of the prisoners. Thus on October 29, at 7 p.m., a verdict of guilty was brought in and sentence pronounced. Valaze stabbed himself in Court, and on October 81 (10 Brumaire) the remainder went to the scaffold. Thus perished the main body of the Girondins; but for many months the pursuit of the fugitives continued. Madame Roland met her fate on November 10 with a real, if characteristically ostentatious, courage ; Lebrun was executed on December 27; Salles and Guadet on June 19, 1794; Barbaroux shot himself, but lived to be executed on June 15; and a number of less-known members mounted the scaffold on various dates in 1793 and 1794. A long list of suicides brings the Girondins’ story to a close, Roland stabbed himself on hearing of his wife’s death (November 15), and Claviere on December 8; Condorcet took poison (March 28); Rebecqui drowned himself (May 3); Petion and Buzot shot themselves (June 18).

Their rivals thus disposed of, the Montagnards turned to isolated victims; Philippe ^galite, a prisoner since April 7, had been guillotined on November 6, bitterly repenting of his evil deeds; he was followed to the scaffold, on November 12, by Bailly, whose conduct in the affair of the Champ de Mars was now avenged by the cruelty and needless prolongation of his execution.

Of the other victims of this bloody winter the most conspicuous were Bamave and Duport-du-Tertre (November 28), Manuel (November 14), who perished for his humane refusal to give evidence against the Queen, and Rabaut (December 5); while of the generals- the younger Custine (January 3), Houchard (November 17), Biron (December 31), and the aged Luckner quickly followed one another to the guillotine; while on May 10, the Princess Elizabeth, sister of Louis XVI, serenely ended her pure and beautiful life on the scaffold.

Thus the winter pf 1793? or An in, as we must now call it, for the Republican Cp-lpnfiar had cpme into fprce on November $4, 1793¹, saw the Hebertist regiftie in full power in every direction, and the ascendancy of War Office and Commune increasing daily. In the Committee, although Billaud was inclined to fall away from the Hebertists, the influence pf Cojlot, the most violent of the Terrorists, was very great; in the armies the Hebertists were supreme, while in every Department gome member pf the party was battening on ill- gotten gains. It was plain that the government of the country could not long be maintained on these anarchical lines. The incompe­tence of the Hebertist generals became daily more apparent; and the unbridlecj. pillage and peculation which characterised the regime were ruinous to armies and treasury alike. All therefore who desired to maintain the power of the Committee saw the necessity of purging it of its Hebertism. Robespierre, caring nothing for efficiency of govern­ment and even less for the abatement of the Terror, was nevertheless stung to action by the not unfounded fear lest the Hebertists should attempt to snatch the power from the Committee and deposit it with the Commune and Ministries. When Collot left Paris for Lyons early in November, Billaud being now inclined to thrpw in his lot with the Committee rather than with the Commune, the anti-Hebertists found themselves in a majority in the Committee, while in the Convention

¹ The Republican Era dated from September 22, 1792, the date of the foun­dation of the Republic, which happened to coincide with the Autumnal Equinox. Each month had 30 days, and was divided into three decades. At the end of the year were added five Sansculottides or jours complementaires: hut iq the year in and in every fourth year afterwards a sixth Sansculottide was added, called jour de la Revolution. The Leap Years Ans iv, vin, etc. were called Sextiles. Each period of four years was called a Frandade. Romme’s decree (4 Frimaire, An 11), arranged for a jour de la Revolution at the end of Leap Years, but this arrangement does not seem to have been adhered to, and the extra day was added at the end of the years preceding Leap Years. Thus the Gregorian and Republican Calendars were at variance in these years from September 23 to February 29.

A further divergence is caused by the fact that the year 1800 was not, in the Gregorian Calendar, a Leap Year. With the corrections necessary in consequence, the following key will explain the Calendar:—

To the number of the day in

Robespierre could command the votes of the Plain, so many of whom laboured under the suspicion of Girondism. But the strength of the Commune was considerable, and the Hebertists were men who would stick at nothing. Robespierre therefore was disinclined to move without further support, and for this support he now looked to Danton.

Danton had since October 12 been in retirement at Arcis. He had been much disgusted by the brutality and incapacity of the Hebertists. Their behaviour had strengthened his conviction of the necessity for a moderate and reasonable but at the same time omnipotent government. It was with the determination to establish such a government that he now (November 21) returned to Paris. He still favoured the further strength­ening of the Committee, no doubt intending to enter it himself and to guide its policy in the desired direction. Danton however misjudged the attitude of Robespierre; that astute self-seeker was moved by no craving for mercy or moderation, qualities which he regarded as dangerous to himself; he merely wished to employ Danton’s vigour and conviction to overthrow his rivals. The policy of mercy was to serve this purpose, after which no more would be heard of it.

The first indication of the rapprochement of Danton and Robespierre came in a report of the latter (November 17) on the state of the nation, in which the remarks on foreign relations had a strong Dantonist flavour. On November 21 the spread of atheism was denounced in the Jacobins. Atheism was one of the leading features in the Hebertist programme, and had been given great prominence in the legislation of the last two months. On September 18 the stipends of cures had been reduced; on November 6 Communes had been empowered to remove their cures-, while the clergy were enticed into resignation by the offer of pensions to those who abdicated and the reduction of the stipends (traitements) of those who refused. Meanwhile, under the auspices of Chaumette, Gobel, Archbishop of Paris, and a number of other “ ecclesiastics ” abjured Christianity (November 7); and on November 10 the Cathedral of Notre Dame was consecrated, amidst much childish profanity, to the worship of Reason. On November 24 the Commune closed all the churches of Paris; and within twenty days 2436 French churches were converted into “ Temples of Reason ” without protest from the Convention.

Robespierre had cleverly determined to work on the wounded religious feelings of the community to secure the overthrow of his rivals. In his crusade against atheism he was joined by Danton; genuine hatred of fanaticism moved the latter, profound cunning the former. The battle was fought out at the Jacobin Club, where an epuration was in progress. Danton’s name came up on December 3, and he would have been epure but for the support of Robespierre. The very next day Danton passed the great law by which the Committee was to receive its final access of strength.: Originally mooted by Billaud on November 21, the law of 14 Frimaire placed all constituted authorities under the

control of the Committee of Public Safety, replaced the local authorities by “ agents nationaux ” emanating directly from the Committee, forbade the levying of taxes by local authorities, prohibited public meetings, and directed all “Representants en mission" to correspond regularly with the Committee. This drastic law marks the final step in the establish­ment of the supremacy of the Committee of Public Safety. Danton seems to have believed with a confidence amounting to infatuation in the ultimate success of that Committee and in his own power of dominating it. His attitude at this moment was that of a gambler staking his remaining possessions on the hazard responsible for his former losses.

But the law of 14 Frimaire did more than strengthen the Committee; it struck a direct and heavy blow at the Commune by forbidding the formation of any central Committee of the Sections, and by directing the Sections to correspond no longer with the Commune but with the Comitt de Sureti Generate.

Meanwhile the attacks on the Hebertists were increasing in violence. On November 17 a number of subordinate members of that party, including Vincent and Ronsin, had been arrested; but this step was premature, and they were subsequently released. Then an elaborate exposure of the peculations and incapacity of Ronsin and Rossignol was jommenced by Danton’s friend Philippeaux, who had witnessed their misdeeds in the Vendee; and on December 5 Camille Desmoulins, inspired by Danton and patronised by Robespierre himself,¹ began the issue of the Vieux Cordelier, in tbe third number of which (published December 15) he denounced the atrocities of the Hebertists, and sug­gested the possibility of a policy of meruy. The Vieux Cordelier sent a great wave of hope throughout the wretched country; and petitions against the Hebertists poured into the Convention. Indeed the only excuse which even a Collot could plead for the Terror had passed away with the French victories of the last months of 1793. The political leaders were however so deeply implicated in the Terror that any talk of clemency or reaction made them tremble. Danton with his courageous inconsistency doubly risked his life in advocating a policy of mercy, knowing that, if successful, it would bring retribution to him for his share in the Terror, but if unsuccessful it would involve its advocate in its own ruin. For the moment indeed it seemed that Danton’s hour had come. The effect of Camille’s stinging epigrams and broad appeal for mercy was immense. But when Robespierre saw that his ally was serious in his cry for clemency, he drew back and apologised for his weakness to the Jacobin Club. ■ ■

While matters thus hung in the balance, the reappearance on December 20 of Collot, fresh from the massacres of Lyons, turned the scale in favour of the Terrorists. With coarse effrontery, and inflated by the prestige of his bloody deeds, he justified his conduct and denounced the cowardice of those who spoke of clemency. His triumph

was complete; the Committee rallied to him, and Robespierre himself recanted, declaring himself (December 25) with incredible meanness, in a report on the principles of revolutionary government, to be once more in favour of the Terror in all its excesses. This desertion by their powerful ally left the Dantonists in a most perilous position. Philippeaux, Bourdon of the Oise, and Desmoulins, were vigorously denounced in the Jacobin Club ; Robespierre, although he made some attempt to save Desmoulins, with brazen composure denied his connexion with the Vieiuc Cordelier. The Dantonists on the other hand courted destruction by the vigour and temerity of their protests; they lashed out in every direction, against the Hebertists, against the War Office, against the Committee itself for its volte-face. On January 12 Fabre d’^glantine, a violent Dantonist and a man who, knowing much of the inner history of the Terror and its agents, was really dangerous to men like Collot, was arrested on a number of charges, vague enough but quite possibly true; and on February 2 the arrested Hebertists were liberated. Throughout these proceedings Robespierre, posing as a patriotic revolutionary, sacrificed his late allies with the utmost composure, and, while re­proaching both Dantonists and Hebertists, the one with their moderation, the other with their violence, inclined more and more to favour the latter at the expense of the former. Always a prey to indecision and dislike of action, Robespierre was in fact unable to decide at which of his rivals to strike, or whether to strike at all; and it was only on February 20 that he was able to persuade himself to take definite action. The decision to strike came in fact not from Robespierre but from Saint-Just, who had just returned from the second of two missions to the army. Saint-Just was a man of iron resolution and came fresh to the political intrigues of Paris; to him Dantonists and Hebertists alike were an obstacle and he at once determined to strike at both in quick succession. That he had no squeamish feelings of moderation he promptly proved by carrying (February 26) the proposal, originally mooted in January by Couthon, that the property of suspects should be confiscated for the benefit of poor “ patriots.” -

This was not only tantamount to a declaration that the Terror was to continue, but a direct bid for the support of the Sansculottes, who had hitherto been wholly the proteges of the Commune. It was therefore a back-handed blow at the Hebertists, a triumph for their principles but at their expense.

It was thus time for the Hebertists to begin to show their teeth. During the first ten days of March the crisis was a very grave one for the Committee, and there was little to indicate how it would end. The Hebertists were in a very strong position ; the Commune and with it the National Guard, the Mayor, the Minister of War, and the large bodies of miscreants and gaol-birds who infested Paris, were all favourable to them. Hanriot also, the victor of June 2, was inclined to Hebertism;

and the Cordeliers’ Club was plotting immediate insurrection. But th^ return of Saint-Just on the other hand had consolidated the Committee. Collot, assured that his and not Danton’s methods were to prevail, threw in his lot with his colleagues: Carrier, summoned from Nantes to account for his proconsulship, and endeavouring to head a Hebertist revolt, was thwarted by the solid front presented by the Committee; and the rare spectacle was witnessed of the government triumphing over insurrection. On March 17 Hebert, Vincent, Ronsin, and seventeen others were arrested, and dragged before the Revolutionary Tribunal. Many of the party temporarily, and some permanently, escaped justice: Pache because of his insignificance, Hanriot with Bouchotte and his following by deserting their colleagues. The trial of the Hebertists was the usual parody of justice; and on March 24, displaying abject cowardice, they perished on the scaffold.

The fall and death of Hebert was greeted with general acclamation, ill-informed men no doubt believing that it heralded the promised reign of clemency. They were soon to find out their mistake. Collot and Billaud had only consented to the destruction of the Hebertists on the understanding that the Terror should continue on the old lines. As a guarantee they had demanded the sacrifice of Danton and his party; to this proposal Robespierre, it was said, at first offered some feeble opposition, terrified no doubt at the prospect of flying at such dangerous game: but, these scruples being quickly overcome, he threw himself into his task with venomous ferocity. It was to Saint-Just however that the attack was entrusted; Robespierre seems to have absolutely convinced that inexorable republican of the “ incivisme ” of the Dantonists; and on March 30 Saint-Just read to the Committees of Public Safety and General Security a report for which Robespierre himself had provided notes. On the same evening the Dantonists were arrested.

Next morning in the Convention Legendre, with a flash of courage, demanded a hearing at the bar for his leader, but Robespierre venomously replied that “Danton was not privileged,” and that they “wanted no idols”; and, after Barere had elaborated Robespierre’s arguments, Legendre was so cowed that he withdrew his motion with profuse apologies. Saint- Just then read to the Convention the report which Robespierre had put into his mouth, It was a ludicrous tissue of falsehoods from beginning to end; every incident in Danton’s career was distorted in an unfavourable light; he had been allied with every contre-rivolutionnaire in turn, with Mirabeau, the Lameths, Dumouriez, Brissot; he had lain hidden on August 10 (of which day he had of course been, as even Saint-Just must have known, the life and soul); he had conspired with England against his country (true enough if to advocate peaceable relations with foreign Powers is conspiracy); he was an Orleanist (but if so, how much more Robespierre); had protected Malouet, Duport, Talleyrand (true, perhaps, but no crime); had been the enemy of Marat (in common with every

reasonable man); the friend of the Gironde (certainly, in so far as he had desired their downfall without desiring their death); had played fast and loose in Belgium (this was probably true); had raised a levy in March to lay Paris bare to the aristocrats; had provoked the Conjuration of March 9 (these wildly false); had demanded the head of Hanriot after June 2 (possibly, but Hanriot had been a Hebcrtist, and was very nearly sent to the guillotine by Robespierre himself); had conferred with the Queen in the Temple (false, but with a substratum of truth, inasmuch as he had tried to use the Queen’s life as a counter in foreign relations); had been responsible for the Vieux Cordelier (Robespierre forgot to tell Saint-Just that he himself had corrected the proofs). Even his action in securing the permanence of the Committee was twisted against him.

The venom and the mendacity of the Report must have gone far to discount its effect, had not the Convention been slavishly subservient to its author. But Saint-Just’s oratory also had the ring of conviction; he had little first-hand knowledge of Danton’s career, had taken little share in the earlier days of the Revolution, had latterly been four months absent, and had accepted in all good faith Robespierre’s mendacious story of what had occurred in his absence. Cowed certainly by fear of Robespierre, influenced perhaps by the fanaticism of Saint-Just, the Convention confirmed the arrest of the Dantonists. On April 2 their trial commenced. With Danton, Lacroix, Herault, Desmoulins, Wester- mann (who however was only arrested on April 2), and Philippeaux, the real faction des indulgents, were ranged at the bar Fabre d’^glantine, who had been awaiting trial on a charge of peculation since January 12, a number of men of foreign names and extraction charged with being foreign spies, and Chabot and Bazire accused of simple malversation. None of these, with the exception of Fabre, were Dantonists at all. They were introduced merely to obscure the issue, and to give colour to the charges of peculation brought against Danton. Among the counts of accusation were venality to the Court, peculation in Belgium, opposition to June 2, complicity in the Baron de Batz’ plot, and conspiracy with Dumouriez. In the minor charges there was probably some truth, for Danton was notoriously careless in money matters and had openly lamented the fate of the Girondins. The rest were absurd; and, as Danton urged, his whole Revolutionary career gave them the lie.

But Danton knew that what was required of the Tribunal was not justice but a sentence of death; and his defence became a series of appeals to the crowd. Danton was the most powerful mob-orator that the Revolution had produced; and during the whole of April 3 his great voice rang through the building, through the neighbouring streets, and was audible even across the river. It really seemed that popular opinion might be roused to declare in his favour. The Committee saw the danger, saw also that the Convention was ready on the slightest pretext to rescind its vote and release the prisoners. Accordingly on April 4

364 Robespierre's position after Danton’s fall [1794

Billaud produced an utterly imaginary story of a Dantonist conspiracy against the Convention; and Saint-Just read a letter from the Revolu­tionary Tribunal, which asserted falsely that the accused were calling for witnesses from the Convention and appealing to the people. Thus instigated, the Convention decreed the outlawiy of any prisoner who “interrupted the course of justice.” The jury then declared them­selves satisfied with the evidence. The prisoners were removed, and the jury deliberated. Sentence of death was conveyed to them in their cells, for the Court dared not run the risk of further scenes. On the evening of April 5 the prisoners were executed. Thus was Danton treacherously hounded to death, with a crowd of common malefactors.

Robespierre, his rivals on either hand removed, was now supreme; by cunning and stealthy intrigue he had secured support on every side. The remnant of the fallen parties, spared for that very purpose, cowered subservient, simply to preserve their own lives; the Commune, renovated after the fall of Hebert, now boasted a Robespierrist Mayor (Fleuriot Lescot) and a Robespierrist Agent National (Payan). On April 1 the Conseil Executif ha.il been replaced by a group of Convention Committees, in each of which Robespierre’s nominees predominated, while in the Jacobin Club his influence was greater than ever. In the two great Committees however his ascendancy was less assured. In the Committee of Public Safety he had the devoted allegiance of Couthon and Saint-Just; but that of Billaud, Collot, and Barere grew daily more doubtful, while that of Carnot and the “workers” depended on the freedom allowed them in their several departments. In the ComitS de Surete Generate, much alienated by the intrusion into its legitimate sphere of action of Robes­pierre’s spies and agents, he could only count on David and Lebas. But in the Revolutionary Tribunal his influence was unbounded. In the Convention itself, which, if it still retained the prestige of its name, had fallen into a condition of shameful paralysis, though his policy was gradually alienating the Montagnards, Robespierre could rely more and more on the support of the Plain as the price of his all-powerful protection.

It is clear therefore that Robespierre’s power rested on substantial foundations. What use he desired to make of it it is difficult to say. Cunning rather than perspicacious, his tactics were superior to his strategy. The fatuity of an attempt to establish a millennium by the simple means of killing all who failed to attain the required standard of virtue must have been patent to any but the blindest theorist. That an endless Terror must at length provoke a desperate reaction was obvious. Robes­pierre does not seem to have realised the certain outcome of his policy; had he done so, Danton's fate would have reminded him of the-danger that lurked in the word “mercy,” and his cowardice would have forbidden him to relax the Terror. It is perhaps however fairer to credit him with being a pure theorist, endowed with little practical foresight but with an

1794]

F6te de l’fitre Supreme.

865

unfailing faculty of feline cunning. This cunning now prompted him simply to cling to power and to strike down , every rival in mere self­preservation. Ambition urged him in the direction of dictatorship, cowardice' drew him back from so dangerous a goal; as a compromise between these conflicting motives he began to aim at becoming the dominating influence in a Convention already emasculated, and in a Committee which he would have emasculated had he dared.

Blind though he was, Robespierre perceived that he needed some positive doctrines to capture popularity. Cut off by physical causes—to his immense chagrin—from military triumphs, despising Saint-Just’s puerile schemes for the reorganisation of society, he turned to religion to supply the want. There was in him, moreover, a vein of mysticism, a touch of sacerdotalism; and it was possibly to gratify these natural pro­pensities, rather than from any profound policy, that he now embarked on his mission of imposing a new religion on the country. On May 7 he laid down the doctrines of immortality and the existence of a “ Supreme Being,” appointed thirty-six annual festivals, and flxed June 8 for an inaugural fite to the new Deity. This departure was a direct blow at many of Robespierre’s colleagues; to Barere, Billaud, Collot, to all who preserved any flavour of Hebertism, the new religion was a vexatious farce. To the parade of incorruptibility and “ virtue,” qualities utterly distasteful to men so corrupt and vicious, was now added this talk of immortality and the existence of God. Robespierre’s colleagues greeted his scheme with ill-disguised annoyance and a contempt which stung him to the quick; but they did not dare to break with him. They were in fact in a very difficult position. Wilder Terrorists than the arch-Terrorist himself, they had earned his displeasure by the indiscriminate and disorderly use of the methods which he desired to regulate and organise. Billaud, Collot, and Barere saw the gulf widening between themselves and Robespierre, but had no one to whom they could turn save to the Moderates in whose eyes they were tyrants more bloodstained than Robespierre himself. Thus for the time they swallowed their discontent and sullenly watched the preparations for the fete. June 8 was a day of brilliant sunshine and the Convention assembled in gala dress before the Tuileries, To them, after a prolonged and much criticised delay, appeared Robespierre, adorned with a violet coat and bearing a “symbolic” bouquet. He had got himself chosen President and had thus secured the leading r6le on the great occasion. Mounting a tribune he delivered an ecstatic Rousseauist harangue, and then headed a procession into the gaidens where a huge group of wooden statues had been erected, representing Atheism surrounded by Vices and Folly and threatened by Wisdom. Atheism was set on fire but refused to catch, and Sagesse got singed—an unhappy augury. After this came another speech; then a hymn ; and the procession marched to the Champ de Mars. Here Robespierre ascended an artificial “monticule”

while a hymn by Marie-Joseph Chenier was chanted. A salvo of artillery brought the proceedings to a close.

Such was the “Fete de Vtltre Supreme.” If anyone thought that it heralded a reign of moderation he was soon undeceived. Only two days had elapsed when Robespierre introduced a law which was to complete the structure of the Terror. The Law of 22 Prairial was a sharpening of its most serviceable weapon—the Revolutionary Tribunal. All forms of evidence, material, moral, verbal, or written, were henceforth per­mitted. The right to denounce conspirators was accorded to all citizens, and that of delivering persons to the Tribunal extended to the two Committees, the Public Prosecutor, the Reprtsentants en mission, and the Convention. The last privilege of the Convention, the immunity of its members from arrest save by consent of the Convention itself, was removed. The outcry on all sides was tremendous. It has been pleaded that Robespierre intended to employ this law to strike down the ultra­Terrorists and then to close the Terror. The first part of this assumption is undoubtedly true, the last as undoubtedly false; the Law of 22 Prairial was no disguised herald of mercy but simply a means of increasing, legalising, and regulating the Terror.

In face of this terrific decree the scattered forces of Robespierre’s opponents closed up their ranks. Some confusion arises from the names attached at different times to different parties, for parties themselves dispersed and coalesced like the changing patterns of a kaleidoscope: it is necessary, however, to realise that at midsummer there was being forriied out of the dregs of the Hebertist and Dantonist parties a group of Montagnards, who were to be the first agents in the overthrow of the Terror. The leaders of this party were Tallien, Barras, and Legendre; every day recruits were pouring in, and included even some members of the Plain. Thus Cambon, Bourdon of the Oise, Dubois-Crance, Leonard Bourdon, Merlin of Thionville, Sieyes, and, most important of all, Fouche, the one man qualified to meet Robespierre on his own ground Of subterranean intrigue, were all now busily organising resistance to the tyrant.

The Law of 22 Prairial stimulated this resistance, and for the moment seemed likely to secure the aid of the anti-Robespierrists of the Com­mittee. On July 23 Robespierre was hotly reproached by Billaud with having passed his law without submitting it to the Committee. Billaud’s indecision however is demonstrated by his unwillingness on the one hand openly to support Tallien, and his refusal on the other to join Robespierre (26 Prairial) in the proscription of the recalcitrant deputies. Disappointed at Billaud’s half-heartedness, Robespierre now naively suggested that he might go on mission; but the ruse was too apparent.

The arrest on 27 Prairial of a certain Catharine Theot, a religious maniac whom he had patronised, was a further rebuff to Robespierre on his most sensitive side. He succeeded, however, though not without

great difficulty, in stifling the proceedings; and now, greatly wounded in dignity, he withdrew from the sittings of Convention and Committee, surrounding Viimsplf with an atmosphere of mystery and isolation, and attending only the meetings of the Jacobin Club.

Yet during this period of semi-retirement relations between Robes­pierre and his colleagues were not broken off; nor can he during this period be exonerated from responsibility for the Terror, which now reached its height. Until June 30 he continued to attend his own bureau, and even after that he attended at least one meeting of the Committees before July 18. He doubtless thought that sinister silence would be more persuasive with his antagonists, especially with those of the Surete Generate, than any active altercation. He was also waiting for a reverse to French arms to provide him with his opportunity. It never came, and the victory of Fleurus was a sad blow to his plans. Meanwhile, by his practical abstention from the Committees he under­mined their influence by his parade of pique; but, intending as he did to continue to govern through them, after he had once purged them of the discordant element, he was careful not to sever completely his con­nexion with them. The interest of the early days of Thermidor lies in the hesitations of the various groups aware of their danger to unite against the tyrant. The threatened Montagnards of the Convention were, as we have seen, rapidly organising under the astute guidance of Fouche; but the Committee of Public Safety was in a very difficult position. Recognising that Robespierre had determined to sacrifice them, its members looked around for allies, but were little tempted to join the Montagnards, who regarded the downfall of Robespierre only as a step to the overthrow of the whole Committee.

For many critical days they halted between two opinions. The attack on Robespierre had been commenced on July 19 with the arrest of Vilate and Naulin, two of Robespierre’s creatures on the Revolutionary Tribunal, and with the acquittal by the Tribunal of a certain Rousselin, a journalist against whom he had a grudge. The meeting of the two Committees on July 20 seems also to have gone against him; but two days later, when he attended, by invitation, a similar meeting, a recon­ciliation was apparently arranged, the Committee undertaking to see that the Revolutionary Tribunal attended to its work, and even listening with equanimity to a speech of Saint-Just in which he urged the necessity of a dictatorship. At this meeting Saint-Just was empowered to draw up a report, and it was said that lists for a great proscription were being prepared.

Deserted in this fashion by the great Committee, the minor Com­mittee and the Conventionals looked piteously to the Plain for help. But the men of the Plain were still to all appearance the docile satellites of the tyrant. Recent developments however had begun to open their eyes. After 22 Prairial it was no longer possible to credit Robespierre with the

368  Robespierre's speech on 8 Thermidor.

intention of either ending or moderating the Terror; and the deputies of the Plain were beginning to realise that he only intended to use them, perhaps to sacrifice them, for his own end?. The recent talk of dictator­ship had alarmed them, nor can they have been quite obi. /ious to the utter ignominy of their slavish position. Their support of Robespierre therefore was purely selfish; once satisfied that the conspiracy was likely to succeed they would join in it with glad relief. With all the perspi­cacity of trimmers, they probably also guessed how quickly the Terror would crumble at the first check.

Meanwhile within the Committee opinion was violently divided. Billaud, whose attitude throughout the crisis is most puzzling, still scouted the notion that Robespierre really intended to throw over his colleagues; Carnot and Lindet were much more decided, and on July 24 Carnot, influenced possibly by military reasons, despatched a large part of the Parisian artillery to the front. Considering the important part which the Canonniers had played in every previous revolt, this step was signifi­cant, and was violently denounced by Couthon in the Jacobin Club. On the same day the Jacobins solemnly denounced Robespierre’s enemies before the Convention.

Robespierre himself, with an orator’s vanity, was now relying on the effect of the great speech which he was composing, and which on 8 Ther­midor (July 26) he delivered in the Convention. It was specious, subtle, indirect, shifty, in fact an admirable specimen of his oratory; except the financiers, Ramel and Mallarme, it implicated no one, but it made every­one uncomfortable, and, instead of awing men into obedience, it terrified them into resistance. Even Saint-Just was disappointed, and the speech had certainly been inadequate to the occasion; not because Robespierre’s oratory had fallen below its usual level, but because his character was utterly incapable of coping with a crisis which demanded directness either of speech or action. The Convention, however, applauded by force of habit; and the customary decree “ that the speech be printed ” was carried. Had Robespierre been content with this all might have been well, but he attempted to push his triumph further; and Couthon demanded the circulation of the speech in the Departments. This pro­posal reopened the discussion; and, although Couthon’s motion was carried, Robespierre lost ground as each implicated deputy rose— Cambon, Vadier, Dumont, Billaud, Panis, Freron—and faced him; he was driven into paroxysms of fury, but could find no words to reply. The Plain’s confidence was thus greatly shaken, and in the end Couthon’s decree was revoked. Freron, however, had greatly disconcerted the anti- Robespierrist members of the Committees by demanding a restriction of their powers, a suggestion which revealed tbe Montagnards' position in its true light. However when the Convention rose at 5 p.m. the result was still in doubt; Robespierre declared himself satisfied; his enemies were still divided, and the Plain, he thought, still leant to him. During

the night neither party was idle. Tallien, Barras, Freron, and Fouch£ took matters into their own hands, and determined to strike, whatever Billaud did. They encouraged the Montagnards to believe that, with Robespierre, the Committees must fall, and gave the Plain to understand that Robespierre was not meditating the dose of the Terror but only the fall of his rivals. Robespierre meanwhile, his energy seemingly unim­paired by the great heat and his prolonged oratorical effort, hurried to the Jacobins to repeat his speech there. Its success was the greater in that it had been prepared rather for that audience than for the Conven­tion ; and its elusive phraseology was thoroughly to the taste of the dub, which utterly refused to listen to Collot and Billaud when they attempted to reply. Payan, Lescot, and Coffinhal now suggested the seizure of the Tuileries; but Robespierre, with his confidence in his own oratory restored, and always timid at any suggestion of action, declined to adopt a step which would certainly have put victory into his hands.

Meanwhile in the Committee of Public Safety, which was engaged in an all-night sitting, Saint-Just was watching Robespierre’s interests. The Committee, finding the problem of how to destroy the tyrant without destroying the tyranny insoluble, was utterly paralysed. There was a stormy scene between Collot and Saint-Just; but, when Saint-Just promised to submit the great speech, on the preparation of which he was engaged, to the Committee, before he read it next day in the Convention, comparative harmony was restored.

Next morning both Committee and Convention met at 10. The Committee was waiting for Saint-Just and his speech, when intelligence came that he had begun to deliver it in the Convention : the members hurried to the hall to find Saint-Just in the tribune, and Robespierre, in his Eire Supreme clothes, at the foot of it. But the Montagnards had resolved on their course of action. Saint-Just had hardly commenced when he was violently interrupted by Tallien. From that moment no Robespierrist was permitted to speak; Collot, in the chair, answered every attempt with “ Tu n’a pas la parole ”; and the cry of “ 2 bas le tyran” drowned every attempt to gain a hearing. Now, Saint-Just, though young and handsome, was physically feeble; Couthon was a paralytic; while Robespierre, though endowed with great endurance, had a weak, shrill voice and no bodily strength. Danton, in Robespierre’s position, would have forced himself on the Convention; but there was no one among the Robespierrists with even a measure of Danton’s fiery energy or physical power. So, protesting shrilly, they were obliged to listen while Billaud denounced Robespierre as a Moderk, and Tallien, waving a dagger over the tyrant’s head, got seance permanente decreed. At 2 p.m. there was a call for Barere. The arch-trimmer, who was armed with two speeches, had dedded to deliver the one directed against Robespierre ; but he attacked mildly and indirectly, proposing only the abolition of the office of Commandant General of the National Guard.

This motion, which involved the suspension of Hanriot, was carried. Then, when Vadier intervened and began to chatter about Catharine Theot, Tallien, the stage-manager of the conspiracy, took up the tale. Robespierre, exasperated, made a grand effort to mount the tribune, but his voice was drowned by the President’s bell. Finally the motion for his accusation was carried; his brother and Le Bas bravely rushed to his side, and, with Couthon and Saint-Just, were included in the decree. Robespierre’s last despairing appeal to his late supporters of the Plain had failed; they had thrown him to the lions. The accused were hurried off to the hall of the Comite de Surete Generale for temporary confinement there, and the Convention broke up at 5 p.m.

• Meanwhile the Commune, which had all along been preparing a rising, had decided that the crisis was one in which the people should perform that “most sacred duty of insurrection’’ recommended by the Constitution of 1793, and that they themselves should once again commence to act as the sovereign representatives of the people. All day Hanriot had been stirring up the proletariate, while the Commune was busy receiving the allegiance of various Sections. On receipt of the news of Robespierre’s arrest, Hanriot galloped off in a drunken fury, and penetrated to the hall of the Comite de Surete Generale, only however to find himself arrested (7.30 p.m.). The prisoners were now hurried off to various places of detention, Robespierre himself to the Luxembourg. There, however, the gaolers refused to admit him, with the result that he was conveyed to the Mairie, which was technically a place of detention, but where he found himself among friends. He was therefore practically free, though formally a prisoner, a situation which greatly commended itself to his duplicity of character. Meanwhile, the Corned Geniral of the Commune had met at 5.30, the tocsin rang, and considerable insur­rectionary forces assembled on the Place de Greve. The barriers were closed, a provisional government was appointed (significant measure), and Robespierre, after repeated refusals to leave his haven of refuge at the Mairie, was at length (11 p.m.) persuaded to join his friends at the Hotel de Ville. In breaking his arrest Robespierre, as he must have known, had exposed himself to a decree of outlawry; and, once hors la lot, he had only to be caught, identified, and hurried to execution. Nothing short of a determination to put himself at once at the head of an armed insurrection would have justified his departure from the Mairie.

Nothing, however, was further from Robespierre’s thoughts; action of any kind, especially if it involved physical danger, was repugnant to him. On his arrival at the Hotel de Ville, therefore, he took no active measures against the Convention, but sat with his friends, discussing the address, in which the coup (Fetat should be communicated to the armies. His presence at the Hotel de Ville only paralysed Hanriot, who, having been released at 8.30, was once more in command of the insurrectionary forces. The inaction of Hanriot is indeed a curious feature of the crisis.

The most plausible solution seems to be that, his neck having been practically in the noose with the H^bertists, he had every reason to know the danger of offending Robespierre ; he was also alive to Robespierre’s jealousy and abhorrence of everything that savoured of militarism, and thus feared to strike a decisive blow, lest its very success should prove fatal to himself.

While the Commune was thus wasting its opportunity, the Convention, which had met again shortly after 7 p.m., was not slow to avail itself of its good fortune. The bearding of the tyrant that morning had restored self-respect to the Plain; and now, though in a most perilous position, they quitted themselves for the first time like men. Billaud and the members of the Committee had flocked to the Convention for safety, but it was not they who led the Assembly; they played, indeed, but a sorry part in the proceedings. Robespierre, Hanriot, and all who supported him were decreed “hors la hi.” The Convention had seized on the weak spot in Robespierre’s armour. Barras was next appointed commander of the armed force, and, at 11 p.m., rode out with twelve followers to raise the loyal Sections, with the result that by 1.30 a.m. he had gathered about 6000 men on the Place du Carrousel.

Astonished, no doubt, that the Commune had not long since attacked, but resolved to profit by their good fortune, the Conventionals at about 1.30 a.m. advanced against the mob in the Place de Greve.

About forty members of the Commune were sitting with the Robes- pienists. Great was their astonishment to find the cannon on the Greve pointed at the Hotel de Ville; Hanriot rushed in crying that all was lost. By the time the assailants entered the chamber Le Bas had shot himself, Hanriot had taken refuge in a sewer, Augui*in Robespierre had leapt from the window, Couthon was beneath the table, and Robespierre’s jaw was shattered by a pistol-shot, whether self-inflicted, or the work of a certain Meda, who afterwards claimed the honour, has never been decided. The members of the Commune made no resistance, and were quickly arrested.

What had happened to turn the tables so dramatically? Robespierre had so far forgotten his treatment in the Convention that morning as to scout the idea of the Conventionals daring to attack. Nothing therefore had been done to keep the crowd on the Greve together, and a heavy fall of rain had sent many of them home. The remainder seemed to have been not unwilling to join Barras and the Conventionals when they arrived. Thus the Hotel de Ville had been carried without a shot fired.

Identification of the prisoners was now the only formality; this was quickly got through. The two Robespierres, both much hurt, but alive and conscious, Saint-Just, Couthon, Hanriot, Dumas, Payan, Lescot, Vivier, Simon, and twelve others, were conveyed amidst scenes of in­describable excitement and popular rejoicing to the Place de la Revolu­tion, and there beheaded on 10 Thermidor (July 28).

CHAPTER XIII.

THE THERMIDORIAN REACTION AND THE END OF THE CONVENTION.

The events of the Ninth of Thermidor provoked throughout France scenes of unparalleled excitement: the streets of Paris were filled with an exultant and as it were unmuzzled crowd, which gave vent to its feelings in fierce execrations against the tyrant and the ninety-five of his associates who followed him to the scaffold.

More gradual of course, but not less effectual, was the unmuzzling of provincial France. It took some time for men to realise that the tyrant was actually dead, but on realising it the whole country heaved with a vast sigh of joy and relief. The Terror indeed, through the energy of the Terrorist commissioners, had been no whit less atrocious in the Provinces than in the capital. We have already seen something of it at Nantes, Lyons, and Toulon; and the atrocities of Lebon at Arras, of Tallien at Bordeaux, and of Maignet at Marseilles and Orange, equalled and perhaps even surpassed those of the more famous proconsuls. Of the total number of victims no estimate is possible. Taine enumerates

17,000     who certainly perished; but this figure undoubtedly falls far short of the actual total. The Revolutionary Tribunal of Paris, however, has left a complete record of its activity. Between April 6,1793 (the date of its installation) and 9 Thermidor, it sent to the scaffold 2625 persons, of whom no fewer than 1366 were condemned in the seven weeks inaugu­rated by the Law of 22 Prairial and terminated by the fall of Robespierre. During that period about 80 per cent, of those accused before it were sentenced to death.

To suggest that the fiendish excesses of the government had been in any sense acceptable to the mass of Frenchmen is ludicrous, inasmuch as it was against that very mass of Frenchmen, rather than against Royalists, Reactionaries, or Girondins, that those atrocities had been directed. Men were robbed, maltreated, and killed, not because they were aristocrats or opponents of the government, but from motives of plunder and revenge, or from pure lust of blood; and this not for the salvation of France, but for the benefit of a gang of corrupt scoundrels, who, in the judgment

of one of the shrewdest contemporary observers of the Revolution, could claim in Paris no more than 3000 adherents. Again, the idea that the Terror was introduced and maintained in order to secure victory for the French arms, or that it conduced to that victory, is as unwarranted as the belief that it was sanctioned or condoned by the nation as a whole. Time after time the indifference of the government to the safety of the frontiers and the armies is conclusively proved. Except in so far as the Terrorist government included the men who organised victory, and who tolerated the Terror, not as contributing to victory, but because they were deter­mined to remain in office, the Terror had no connexion with the success of the French arms. The victories of the Republic were won not because but in spite of the Terror, and were due to the fact that the majority of Frenchmen were not Terrorists, but patriots at heart. Patriotism—to fight for France—was still possible, almost the only thing possible for the tortured nation. The one way to be safe and to escape from the horrible nightmare, was to reach the front as quickly as possible. There, instead of “Jacobin,” “Patriot,” or “Aristocrat,” one could be a Frenchman again.

For two years the nation, gagged and spell-bound, had submitted to the tyranny of savage and self-seeking miscreants. So complete had been the organisation of the Terror that one wonders how, if its authors had not turned and rent each other, France could ever have shaken herself free. But, the spell once broken by the downfall of Robespierre, tbe true voice of France was heard once more, weak and hollow at first like the voice of one long dumb, but increasing soon to an angry roar, denouncing the remnants of the tyranny, and dominating tbe political situation. The strife of parties, the intrigue of factions, the attitude of individual leaders, so long the sole factors in politics, now retired into their proper subordination; while beyond and above them the voice of public opinion reasserted itself.    -

Not only did men begin to talk freely once more in the streets, but the press, after a forced silence of two years, raised its voice again. Until the summer of 1792 the public press, though much intimidated, may be said to have retained a measure of independence. Mallet du Pan, one of the most courageous as he was one of the wisest men of the period, had indeed continued calmly in Paris editing his Moderate journal, the Mercure, in face of appalling dangers, up to the very eve of the fall of the Monarchy. The cessation of the Mercure marks the final blow at the freedom of the press; from that time only journals of the most radical nature were permitted to appear, and the standard of radicalism grew rapidly more exacting until such gutter rags as Marat’s I?Ami du Pewple and Hebert’s Le Pere Duchesne became the leading organs of the Parisian press. The language used by these journals, especially by Hubert’s, is a sufficient indication of the class of readers to whom they appealed; and the expedients to which their editors were driven to make them pay shows that they were far from being really popular. Marat,

for instance, stole the Royalist printing-presses in September, 1792; and Hebert extorted enormous subventions from the War Office for the circulation of his filthy print among the soldiers. Thus during the Terror the public press had entirely ceased to fulfil its functions; and one of the earliest signs of the reawakening of public opinion after Thermidor is the liberation of journalism. Chief among the reactionary journals was Freron’s L’Orateur du Peuple, which began to reappear on September 11.

Nor was there any ambiguity in the interpretation that public opinion, thus liberated, put upon the coup d'etat. Everywhere, in the streets of Paris, in the Provinces, not least in the teeming prisons, the news of Robespierre’s fall was acclaimed as the close of the Terror and as the signal for summary vengeance on its authors. In the prisons in particular the intelligence was greeted with an outburst of relief which it is difficult to picture. The prisons indeed, crowded as they were with victims of every class, from the genuine loyalist to the humble bourgeois who had dared to prefer coin to assignats, had become a not unimportant register of popular feeling. Within their walls had grown up a social order of strangely pathetic interest. Each inmate was on the brink of eternity, and death was so near that it became but an incident in the day; determined as they were to make the most of the few hours, the few days, at most the few weeks, they had to live, the gaiety of these unfortunates was scarcely interrupted by the entrance of the turnkey for his daily toll of victims. To one who walked the streets of the unnatural Paris of that ghastly period not the least strange sound must have been that of laughter and merriment from barred windows. Only a few days before Thermidor rumours of approaching massacre had brooded over the prisons; and on the very eve of the coup d'etat a batch of forty-five had been duly executed, thus missing reprieve by a few hours only. The outburst of relief in the prisons was happily justified by the prompt release of hundreds whose presence was required by the Thermidorians to swell the tide of public opinion against the Terrorist government; and, although on September 6 there were still 5261 prisoners and on October 7 as many as 4445, these were for the most part genuine Royalists who could not safely be set free.

Having noted the construction which public opinion put upon the crisis, we may now examine the attitude of parties. The intricate coup d'etat described in the last chapter had been effected by the coalition of several parties for one common immediate end. All had desired the downfall of Robespierre, but not all with the same ulterior object. The anti-Robespierrists of the Committees, such as Collot and Billaud, had aimed their blow at the person of their colleague, not in any sense at the system which he embodied, still less at the government of which he had been the head and of which they were all members. The Thermidorians on the other hand, that is the anti-Robespierrist Montagnards, regarded Robespierre’s fall as a step to the overthrow of the government and the

seizure of power by themselves, and had no idea of accepting the domination of his colleagues now that he was himself overthrown. But there had been a third party to the alliance which had brought about the coup d'etat. The Plain, or Moderes, of the Convention, having broken their long and shameful silence, were not inclined to put their necks under any fresh yoke, and, the spell of the Terror once lifted, were determined not to submit to any reestablishment of the conditions which had reduced them to such a pitch of misery and shame. We shall now see the profit of the Thermidorian Revolution turn, not to the principals in the struggle, but to these despised auxiliaries; it did so because, in their desire to conclude the Terror, they simply reflected the great body of reawakened public opinion of which we have just spoken.

Billaud, Collot, Barere, and the Terrorists of the Comite de Surete Generate, regarded the outbreak of popular jubilation with disgust and alarm, and greeted the first measure of reaction—the proposal that after a fortnight, during which period it could dispose of “ Robespierre’s tail,” the Revolutionary Tribunal should be reconstituted—with uncom­promising hostility. The passing of this proposal, in spite of their opposition, was sufficient indication that Thermidor was to be the end, not only of Robespierre, but of the Terror. Fouquier-Tinville, whose continuance in office had been proposed by Barere, was actually im­peached on August 1; and the Law of 22 Prairial was then repealed. On August 10 the Tribunal was reorganised, with the result that, after the execution of the minor Robespierrists (August 13), till the end of Fructidor (September 16), out of 293 accused only 14 were con­demned ; from September 17 to October 21 24 out of 312; in Brumaire 5 out of 236; in Frimaire 3 out of 105; and in Pluviose none out of 30.

Further proof of the reactionary turn things were taking was forth­coming in the reconstruction of the Committee of Public Safety. The first reconstruction, however, on July 31, was no victory for the Moderates any more than for the Terrorists, and turned to the advantage of the Thermidorians proper, who desired to reorganise rather than to abolish the existing system of government, and to dominate rather than to destroy the Committee. Of its eleven members, four were dead, to wit the three Terrorists and Herault. Bon Saint-Andre and Prieur of the Marne were absent on missions; and of the six members chosen to fill these vacancies, four were Thermidorians (Tallien, Thuriot, Breard, and Treilhard), while two were Jacobins (Eschasseriaux and Laloi). The Committee thus became in tone Thermidorian, with a strong dash of Carnot; its policy was to adjust and moderate, but not to stop the despotism; to continue the war, and to maintain the Revolutionary government, with a purged Jacobin Club and a reformed Revolutionary Tribunal.

The Plain, however, strengthened by the return to public life of many Conventionnels and encouraged by the evidences of popular reaction,

had already* while the Terrorists and Thermidorians were struggling for the control of the Committee, struck the first blow at the supremacy of the Committee itself. On 11 Thermidor it was enacted that one-quarter of the members should retire each month. On August 23 this change was developed into a complete reorganisation of the whole system of government; the twenty-one existing Committees of the Convention were replaced by sixteen, amongst which the executive power hitherto monopolised by the Committees of Public Safety and General Security was widely distributed, the sphere of the Committee of Public Safety, in particular, being reduced to the control of war and foreign affairs. Special provisions secured the impossibility of any permanent personal supremacy in the great Committee; and consecutiveness and vigour of policy were sacrificed to the determination to avoid a repetition of the state of affairs which had just been ended.

The work of breaking the old authorities proceeded vigorously throughout the month of August. By decrees of August 12 and 28 the powers of Representants en mission were curtailed. The licence hitherto accorded to clubs and popular societies was withdrawn; the Jacobin Club, it is true, continued to exist until November 12, but after 9 Thermidor repeated interferences with its action rendered it comparatively innocuous. A corresponding decline crippled also the influence of provincial societies; and the scope of the Revolutionary Committees, which had been so serviceable to Robespierre, was greatly circumscribed. On August 24 the Committees of small towns were sup­pressed. The number of provincial Committees was restricted to one for each district; and in Paris their number was reduced from forty-eight to twelve, while at the same time their powers were greatly curtailed.

The violent Robespierrism displayed by the municipality of Paris had brought upon it a similar fate. On July 27 it was abolished, those of its functionaries who had played a conspicuous part in the recent crisis being sent to the scaffold. On August 31 a number of Commissioners were appointed by the Convention to take over the municipal govern­ment, the police administration remaining in the hands of the Comite de Shrete Generate. Of all the old municipal organisation the Sections alone remained; and they continued, as we shall see, to be a potent influence in political matters. Alterations in the control of the National Guard had been rendered inevitable by the conspicuous part which Hanriot had played in Thermidor. A staff of five, appointed for ten days at a time and elected by lot from the Section commanders, now replaced the single Commandant General. The senior member of this staff was to command for five days, but orders were only valid when signed by three staff-officers.

These precautions were of course profoundly distasteful to the old members of the Committee. Many even of the Thermidorians were alarmed at the great revulsion of popular feeling. The release of the

prisoners of the Terror had been forced on them by the necessity of keeping the power out of the hands of the old government; but the great outcry against the “ patriots ” and the clamour for vengeance on those who had been responsible for the wreckage of property and social order were above and beyond anything they had contemplated. This popular outcry against the Terrorists came to a head with the trial of 182 prisoners from Nantes, whom Carrier had handed to the Parisian tribunal in the previous January. Their trial had been delayed and only began on September 7; then for the first time the full extent of the Nantes atrocities was revealed; and, accustomed though it was to the sight of blood, Paris experienced a tremor of horrified disgust. Public indignation rose to boiling-point. On the other hand the anger of the Jacobin Club was stirred by the “unpatriotic” attitude of the populace. An attempt to assassinate Tallien, which was attributed to their machinations, enhanced their growing unpopularity.

On September 14 the trial ended in the acquittal of the prisoners and the impeachment of the Nantes tribunal. This of course implicated Carrier, and through him the members of the old Committee, on whose instructions he had acted. The crisis was therefore a grave one for Billaud and his colleagues. Fiercely they argued that the whole Con­vention, having appointed the Committee, was responsible for the Terror, and by every expedient the impeachment of Carrier was postponed; but public outcry increased with every fresh revelation, and at last it became necessary to deliver Carrier to his enemies. Elaborate precautions were, however, adopted (October 23) to protect deputies from accusations. The government Committees were first to decide that there was ground for suspicion; a Commission of twenty-one, chosen by lot, must then investigate these grounds and report; whereupon a three days’ discussion in the Convention was to ensue, in which the accused might take part. All these precautions did not suffice to save Carrier. On October 29 the Committees decided that there was ground for suspicion; the Commission of twenty-one was forthwith appointed, and it reported on November 11. Carrier then defended himself in the Convention, first impudently denying the charges, and then laying the blame on the Committees.

Billaud and his colleagues, seeing their danger, opposed each step in the proceedings with savage but impotent fury. The Convention was xgainst them, and they resorted to the Jacobin Club to give vent to their rage. This moved the reactionary mob to attack the club. On November 9 a free fight took place between the Jacobins and the reactionary bands, which, under the name of “jeunes gens" had been organised by Freron: the Comiti de Surete Generate declined to interfere, and on November 12 the club was closed. This was a stunning blow to the old Terrorist party. Their last support was gone, and they felt the toils closing round them. Carrier was put on trial, and on December 16 sentenced to death with two of his satellites; and the acquittal of the

remainder of the accused was so unpopular that two days later twenty- six out of thirty were imprisoned again.

During this period parties in the Convention had been undergoing reconstruction. We see three distinct groups gradually emerging. The Independents, a union of certain of the Thermidorians with the Jacobins, all members of the old Mountain, represented the extreme of Republicanism, short of absolute Hebertism or absolute Robespierrism; they desired the destruction of the remaining Robespierrists, but the maintenance of all the leading Terrorist measures; they inclined to the Left, but to a Left purged of Billaud and Collot, because Billaud and Collot were too dangerous. Among these men were Merlin of Douai, the author of the Law of the Suspect; Barras, the victor of Thermidor; Cambaceres, the most prominent statesman produced by that crisis; and Sieyes, who now once more glides stealthily to the front.

The Thermidorians proper formed the second group; they had been responsible for the recent violent measures against the Jacobins, and in that matter had crossed the Rubicon. Any rehabilitation of the Jacobins would involve them in utter ruin; they therefore inclined more and more to the Right, on whose assistance they relied to keep the Jacobins under; they contemplated, without enthusiasm but with equanimity, the return to the Constitution of 1791 of which their Moderate allies talked, and were willing, in deference to these allies, to relax slightly the cruel severity with which the wretched Dauphin was treated in his dungeon. Of this party were all the mere self-seekers of the Convention, such as Tallien and Freron, men who did not scruple to have secret communi­cations with emigres; its strength was estimated at 150.

The third group, numbering some 160, was made up of deputies of the old Centre and Right; they regarded the days of the Republic as numbered, and anticipated the restoration of the monarchy and the Constitution of 1791. Without any definite alliance they were able to vote during the early period of the reaction with the Thermidorians against the Independents; and it was the cooperation of these two parties that secured the acceptance of the Moderate legislation of the winter of 1794-5.

Outside the Convention popular opinion grew daily more favourable to reaction. With the relaxation of the Terror the laws which it had introduced became intolerable. The maximum in particular, often evaded even in the height of the Terror, now became more oppressive than ever. In spite of an excellent harvest, prices rose to famine height, and the dearness of fuel in a winter remarkable for low temperatures brought misery little short of that caused by scarcity of provisions. Throughout the bitter winter nights great queues of shivering citizens huddled in front of the bakers’, grocers’, and butchers’ shops and the barges where fuel was sold, in the hope of securing in the morning a miserable pittance of bad bread, a scrap of meat, or a log of wood.

Assignats, their security doubly shaken by rumours of peace and sug­gestions of amnesty to Emigres, depreciated daily, while forged notes circulated freely. The abolition of the Commune left the streets of Paris unclean, disorderly, and immoral. The social and economic con­dition of the capital was indeed worse than at the height of the Terror. There were some who, not without a degree of reason, attributed the distress to the relaxation of the restrictions; but the vast body of public opinion, as revealed to us by the reports of the secret police, cried out for the complete repeal of the maximum.

Meanwhile repeated efforts were being made to secure the impeach­ment of the Terrorist members of the old Committees. So early as August 29 Lecointre, the most excitable of the Thermidorians, had proposed this step; but, although public opinion favoured the accusa­tion, the motion fell to the ground. It led, however, to the withdrawal of Billaud, Barere, and Collot from the Committee of Public Safety. In view of the failure of their efforts to bring their enemies to justice, the Thermidorians looked round for some means of strengthening the Moderate vote in the Convention. The Plain was eager for the release of the seventy-three deputies who had been imprisoned for protesting against June 2; and, in order to secure the overthrow of their antagonists, the Thermidorians now acquiesced in this step. On December 9 the seventy-three returned to the Convention; and, as the Assembly was seldom attended by more than 250 deputies, this accession of strength left the Moderates arbiters of the situation.

The ultimate fate of the members of the old Terrorist government was now assured: but it had been obtained only at the price of surrendering the Convention to the Moderates. The reactionary trend of politics had, however, been displayed, even before the return of the seventy-three, in the extension of an amnesty to the Vendeen insurgents. After Savenay the Vendee had been systematically scoured by the “ colormes mfernales ” of General Turreau; and in an incredibly short time had become a smoking desert. But Turreau and his masters soon found that their brutal policy, so far from bearing down the obstinacy of the insurgents, only goaded them to a yet more desperate resistance. Hampered though they were by the daily increasing jealousies of their remaining leaders, the Vendeens were yet capable of inflicting heavy damage on the Republic. In Britanny also resistance to the government continued. The disaffection of that Province had originated in the same fashion as that of the Vendee; but the insurrection there had never attained any unity, and had been subdued with comparative ease every time it broke out. But, just because it was without organisation or concentration, it could not be put down at one blow. Under the leader­ship of Cadoudal, Cotterau, Boishardi, and Cormatin, the Ckouans (as the Breton rebels were called) carried on a ceaseless guerilla warfare with the troops of the Republic; and, in the summer of 1794, Puisaye,

an ex-supporter of the Girondins, set out for London to negotiate for English assistance. Hoche, who was sent to Britanny in October, perceived that this was just the kind of war that could only be ended by means of wise diplomacy; he therefore recommended an amnesty for all the western rebels; and on December 1 the government, anxious to end an episode which had proved so disastrous and so costly to the Republic, gave effect to his recommendations. During December, January, and February negotiations for a settlement on the basis of this amnesty were in progress; and, although peace was not concluded until February 15, 1795, the policy which made peace possible dated from December 1,1794.

The liberation of the seventy-three therefore did little more than accelerate a process which had already commenced; the amnesty to the Vendkens was already granted, the attack on the maximum had already begun, the sword was already hanging over the heads of the Terrorists. The reentry into politics of so many Moderates quickly brought matters to a head. On December 22 Jobannot and Giraud reported on the maximum, and Lecointre proposed to remove it from all commodities except bread; but the Thermidorians were overborne by the Moderates and the weight of public opinion, and on December 23 tbe law was wholly repealed. The excitement of the abolition of the most obnoxious of the Terrorist measures had scarcely died away, when the blow fell upon those of its authors who survived. Only four days had elapsed when the Committees took courage to report tbat there was ground for investigating the suspicions against Billaud, Barere, Collot, and Vadier. According to the provisions laid down on October 23 a Commission of twenty-one was appointed; and, although its report was delayed until March 2, there was after December 27 little doubt of the ultimate fate of the Terrorists.

During this period of reaction the revulsions of feeling in the Convention had been steadily reflected in the constantly renovated ranks of the governing Committee. At first its members had been drawn without exception from the old Mountain, the most conspicuous being Cambaceres and Merlin of Douai, together with Carnot and Prieur of the Cote d’Or, whose efficiency in their department made their presence on the Committee essential, so much so that the law was strained to keep them there, and that, when Carnot was at last obliged to withdraw for his month, he continued to control the War Office from outside, and on the expiry of the month was quickly reinstated. In January, however, the increase in the strength of the Moderates of the Convention was reflected in the Committee by the introduction of Boissy d’Anglas, and after him of other members of the old Plain, although they never attained a majority; later we shall find ex-Girondins sitting, so that, at one time or another, practically every shade of opinion was represented.

Considering the constant changes in personnel, the Comitt de I'An m was wonderfully successful in giving to its policy a measure of continuity.

This was due to the practical permanence of its leading members, such as Merlin of Douai and Cambaceres, who sat for eleven and ten months respectively out of a total of thirteen, and Boissy d’Anglas, Rewbell, and Sieyes, who, though they did not enter the Committee until 1795, sat each for seven months. It was also, and especially, due to the great skill with which it contrived to turn the mind of the Convention to the estab­lishment of an honourable and profitable peace with Prussia. To the extremists, to the Independents as well as to the old Terrorists, the idea of peace with anyone, on any terms, however profitable or glorious, was abhorrent; while to many of the Moderates on the other hand the Committee’s indication of the Rhine frontier and “natural” limits as the basis of negotiation seemed likely to necessitate prolonged and ever- recurring hostilities. The Committee was, therefore, in a delicate position between two parties pulling in opposite directions. The Moderates had to be encouraged in order to prevent the extremists reverting to the idea of a general and relentless war; while the Mcmtagnards could not be allowed to decline, lest the Moderates should be content with too little. This is the cue to the history of public affairs in the winter and spring of the Year hi.

On the whole the government policy tended more and more to favour the Moderates; and the necessity for propitiating the Jacobins only slightly modified this tendency. On December 21 the sale of the property of relations of emigres was stopped, and on the 29th the seques­trated property of German, English, and Spanish subjects was restored. On January 12, 1795, the priests and nobles condemned to deportation were released, while on the 30th a distinctly Moderate report on foreign policy was delivered by Boissy d’Anglas. The Committee was, in fact, hard at work on its peace polity; Barthelemy was busy negotiating with the Prussians at Basel; peace with Tuscany was signed on February 9; on the 15th Charette agreed to accept the liberal terms offered by the government; and peace with the Vendeens was signed at La Jaimaie. By this treaty freedom of worship was granted, the royal assignats were redeemed, a local militia 2000 strong was formed, and the Vendeens exempted from all other military service. In return Charette acknow­ledged the Republic and undertook to get the insurgents to lay down their arms. If we accept the undoubted fact that the Vendee rebelled not for royalty, but for religion and as a protest against compulsory military service, and that the mark of Royalism was only subsequently imprinted on an insurrection which was in its origin social and religious, then we must acknowledge that all the real grievances were met by the terms of the Treaty of La Jaunaie.

But the Republic was to find that a guerilla war is almost as difficult to end by terms of treaty as by force of arms. A country with no government, and armies with no commander-in-chief, have not, in fact, the machinery for making treaties. Jealousy of Charette and of his

assumption of the right to treat made Stofflet and the Abbe Bernier more determined to continue the war. No sooner had Canclaux established Charette, with all ceremony and the military honours of a victor, at Nantes, than he was obliged to lead his troops against these irreconcil- ables. After a heroic campaign of two months Stofflet was compelled to accept at Saint-Florent the terms of La Jaunaie (May 2). On April 20 the Breton rebels had accepted the same conditions at La Mabilais. Thus by the beginning of May the whole of the rebellious west had, temporarily at least, accepted the Republic.

Meanwhile in Paris the tide of reactionary legislation was swelling fast. Four days after La Jaunaie the government took the important step of conceding liberty of worship. The religious question was one of the most thorny with which the government was confronted. No proof was needed that it was impossible either to abolish religion or to rally it to the Revolution : the whole history of the last two years bore evidence of this : the Vendee, the failure of the cult of Reason and the cult of VEtre Supreme, and now the voice of reviving public opinion, all showed that the majority of Frenchmen were irrevocably attached to the Catholic religion. Although the previous year had witnessed the most violent attacks on religion, the Civil Constitution of the clergy had been untouched; and by it the “ constitutional ” clergy were entitled to their stipends and pensions which had been thrice solemnly guaranteed by the Convention. But in spite of this the stipends had gradually ceased to be paid, and on March 26, 1794, pensions had been abolished, while the closing of churches had finally stopped all payment.

The newgovemment had accepted liability under the Civil Constitution and had (18 Thermidor) decreed the payment of pensions to the abdicated clergy, but, being wholly irreligious, declined to pay stipends. This amounted to a disavowal of the Civil Constitution, which was based on the principle of a State-supported religion. Cambon (September 18) reported to the effect that in future the Republic would decline to support any cult, but that an allowance would be made to officiating clergy equivalent to the pensions of the abdicated. This measure was in the main a financial expedient, but the anti-Christianising policy did not stop here. On December 21 Gregoire, one of the few ecclesiastics of the Convention who had not apostatised, made an impassioned appeal, not for the restoration of State religion, but for the recognition of Catholicism. The Convention vehemently repudiated the suggestion; but public opinion greeted it with enthusiasm. Everywhere churches were reopened; and Catholicism, which had never indeed been wholly suppressed, openly lifted its head. The government dared not interfere, dreading to run counter to public opinion and desiring to conceal its atheism from Europe pending the peace negotiations. Hence in the end it gave effect to Gregoire’s proposals in the Law of 3 Vent6se (Februaiy 21). The scope of this law was indicated in the speech of Boissy d’Anglas who

introduced it. No more bitter attack on Christianity had ever been heard in the Convention; “intolerant, bloody, puerile, absurd, and disastrous ” were the epithets applied to the Catholic religion; “ but,” he went on to say, “we must have no Hebertism, no persecution”; superstition would die a natural death. With that he proposed the absolute liberty of all cults; not as a generous recognition of religion, but as a grudging acknowledgment of the political necessity of toleration. Restrictions were heaped upon the liberated forms of worship. Churches were not to be opened; no place of worship was to bear any external sign of its sacred purpose; no public summoning of congregations was permitted; no person was to appear in public in religious habit; all assemblies for worship were placed under police supervision.

Notwithstanding these harsh and spiteful conditions, the Law of 3 Ventose had granted the essential point, and on this charter the position of religion was actually based until the Concordat. Public opinion recognised the importance of the concession and overlooked the barbarous restrictions. The greatest enthusiasm prevailed. The very next day masses were said in Paris, and religious fervour both there and in the Provinces knew no bounds.

It was plain that the reactionary trend of affairs was likely to give the gravest offence to the remnant of the Jacobins, and it was not to be expected that that once omnipotent party would accept without protest this overthrow of all the principles for which it had fought. Prom the Jacobin point of view the situation was indeed most critical. The streets had become positively dangerous to “ patriots ” by reason of the licensed violence of the “Jewries gens ”; the busts of Marat had been consigned to the sewers; Revolutionary Tribunal, Committees, Clubs, National Guard, Commune, all the old weapons of the Terror, had been either blunted or destroyed; the red cap of liberty was everywhere insulted; the great mother Club was ignominiously closed; the guillotine threatened the heroes of 1794; a dangerous licence had been accorded to super­stition ; the government had already truckled to the rebels of the west and was on the point of truckling to Prussia. Little wonder that the Jacobins regarded the situation with alarm and determined to strike a blow before the catastrophe was completed by the success of Barth^lemy’s negotiations at Basel.

The economic state of France seemed to favour the Jacobins. The simple repeal of the maximum had not sufficed to restore normal conditions to the distressed country; the war continued, and with it the necessity for requisitions and the continued exclusion of external food supply, while the injuries done to internal trade and agriculture were found to be greater than could be remedied by a simple stroke of the pen. The government had indeed been mistaken in repeal­ing the maximum so hastily; it would have been wiser to retain it with the promise that after the next harvest it would be removed; by

that time the conclusion of peace might also have given an impetus to the importation of food-stuffs. As it was, prices seem to have been little affected by the removal of the restrictions on 3 Nivose (December 23, 1794), while the scarcity continued, and even increased. The government was quite alive to the danger of a famine; and, in its anxiety to allay the popular agitation and to stave off a crisis which would have ruined its negotiations with Prussia, promised (March 13) a pound of bread daily to every citizen of Paris. Unfortunately this was more than it could perform; and it was the failure to redeem this promise that provoked the insurrections of Germinal and Prairial.

Meanwhile Jacobin outbreaks at Toulon and Marseilles prompted the government to further measures against their enemies. On March 2 the Committee of Twenty-one, which had been appointed on December 27 to investigate the charges against Billaud, Collot, Barere, and Vadier, recommended that the accused be sent before the Revolutionary Tribunal. This was done amidst a chorus of approval, but to the intense alarm and disgust of the Jacobins.

But the Convention did not stop here. It determined still further to strengthen the ranks of the Moderates for the impending crisis by restoring to their seats the surviving Girondin deputies. This measure was accepted (March 8) by the Thermidorians as a means of strengthening their hands against the Jacobins. The reentry of the restored deputies, sixteen in number and including Lanjuinais, Isnard, and Louvet, came as a gage of battle thrown down by the Moderates to the Jacobins. From that day a Jacobin insurrection was a certainty.

It is possible that even without the Jacobin incitements there would have been some kind of outbreak in Paris at this juncture, for the distress was daily increasing. The government, unable to find the promised bread, had begun to substitute rice; further, in declining to guarantee subsistamces to any but those domiciled in the city, they had done a grave injustice to the considerable floating population, especially to the masons, whose labour ceased during the winter and who were now just returning to Paris with the spring. Bread riots occurred almost daily. Lecointre, who, after the reinstatement of the Girondins, had gone over to the Jacobins, put forward (March 19) a demand for the Constitution of 1793; and while “bread” was the battle-cry of the starving populace, this became the battle-cry of the Jacobins. The demand for the Constitution of 1793 was met by the first indication from the Moderates that their policy comprised the framing of a totally new Constitution. They also passed a strict police-law against bneutes, and showed what a grave view they took of the situation by a resolution that, if the Convention were violated, its survivors should, with the Representants en mission and the suppliants, constitute themselves a fresh assembly at the town of Chalons.

With that they turned to the discussion on the accused Terrorist

deputies. For a week the debate continued; and the accused were warmly and bravely defended by their ex-colleagues, Lindet, Prieur of the Cote d’Or, and Camot, while Paris surged without. The Jacobins brought matters to a head on April 1 (12 Germinal), when a mob of angry citizens broke into the Convention and cried out for “bread and the Constitution of 1793”; they shouted chaotically for four hours, but, much to the disappointment of their Jacobin instigators, did nothing further. Meanwhile the government Committees sounded the alarm in the bourgeois quarters, and mustered some battalions of the National Guard, on the approach of which the rioters gradually disbanded. No sooner was the hall cleared than the Convention thundered forth its wrath at the fomenters of the insurrection. The deportation of the accused deputies, in whose favour the movement had been largely designed, was at once carried; and sixteen other Jacobin deputies were decreed arrested—including Leonard Bourdon, Cambon, Amar, and Lecointre. Pichegru, who was just then at the height of his reputation and happened to be in Paris, was put in command of the government forces to stamp out the embers of the insurrection: a task which gave him little difficulty and was completed in two days.

The failure of this insurrection of 12 Germinal told heavily in favour of the Moderates within and without the Convention. The tyranny of the jeunes gens recommenced with redoubled vigour; Republicans and all the emblems of their regime fell into contempt; and the talk of a restoration of the Monarchy, which had been rife before the insurrection, was revived. The dismay and discomfiture of the Jacobins was complete. Nor were the Moderates of the Convention slow to take advantage of the evil plight of their antagonists. The arrest of the Jacobins involved in the plot was followed by a series of decrees directed against that party. The Committee of Public Safety was increased to sixteen (April 3), and on April 10 it proposed a decree for the disarming of all persons who had been concerned in the Terror. At the same time the reorganisation of the National Guard was undertaken ; the lower classes were excluded from its ranks, which were once more filled, as in 1791, with bourgeois. The restoration on the same day of the departmental authorities was a further return to the principles of 1791. Next day (April 11) the subordinate survivors, of the Girondin party were reinstated.

These various restorations, to which the Convention had been driven to secure itself against the Jacobins, reopened the very serious question of the confiscated property of proscribed persons. By its action in restoring the proscribed, the Convention had acknowledged the injustice of their proscription. Was it to maintain the confiscation of their property—an injustice at least as great ? On April 15, on the motion of Johannot, it was decreed to cut out the word “confiscation” from all laws, and to return the property of the victims of the Terror to their surviving relations. But Rewbell, who had entered the Committee of

Public Safety on April 3, protested in its name against a measure so favourable to Royalists and emigres. The execution of the decree was postponed, and was only passed into law—and that in an amended form—on May 3, when the property of all victims of the guillotine since March 10, 1793, was restored to their families. The only excep­tions were emigres, forgers of assignats, and traitorous generals. On April 25 a further measure of justice was meted out to the unfortunate relations of emigres, who had suffered confiscation and been reduced to penuiy through no faults of their own. A considerable proportion of the property so confiscated was now restored to its rightful owners.

On the same day it was decreed that trade in gold and silver should be freed from the restrictions that had been imposed upon it. This step, which practically reopened the Bourse, was highly important, and, considering the starving condition of the Capital and the utter depletion of the Treasury, not very politic: for its immediate result was to depreciate still further the value of the assignats—a gold louis was actually sold for 900 francs on the 27th, while at Basel assignats fell to 5 per cent.—and to send up prices with a bound.

Such were the measures with which the Moderates sealed their victory of 12 Germinal; but the effect of that victory was also visible in the manner in which they treated the question of the Constitution. “ The Con­stitution of 1793" had been one of the cries during the crisis of Germinal; and on 1 Germinal the Convention had appointed a Constitutional Committee. It was not yet hinted that there was any idea save that of improving upon the dummy Constitution of 1793; it is probable that at first the Committee regarded this as the task before them; but after Germinal the idea of developing the Constitution of 1793 was abandoned; and, when Cambaceres (April 18) reported for the Committee, he recom­mended the construction of a totally new Constitution. The Committee then resigned and was replaced (April 23) by a Committee of Eleven:— Thibaudeau, Lesage, Larevelliere, Boissy d’Anglas, Creuz^-la-Touche, Lou vet, Daunou, Berlier, Lanjuinais, Durand-Maillane, and Baudin, of whom only one was an extreme democrat, and three at least, Lanjuinais, Boissy d’Anglas, and Lesage, were favourable to Royalty.

It would seem at first sight that the future at this time looked promising for the government. It had triumphed over its enemies on 12 Germinal, had passed its remedial legislation, had concluded peace with Prussia and with the western rebels, had enlarged and strengthened its Committee of government, rejected the Constitution of 1793, which would have favoured its Jacobin rivals, and appointed a Moderate committee to construct a Constitution after its own political views. Yet, on closer inspection, the triumph will be found more apparent than real. Already it was whispered that Charette and Stofflet were playing false, that the peace in the west had in fact been but a feint to gain time; and even the authors of the Treaty of Basel must

have perceived that peace with a single Power, with the prospect of continued war with the rest of Europe, would not satisfy the genuine craving for a real and general peace which was everywhere evident. With regard to the war the Committee was in fact on the horns of a dilemma; it dared not face a general peace, which would have involved the return of the armies—an eventuality which was full of danger; and it dared not on the other hand continue to disregard the popular clamour for peace, and the financial situation. Remedial legislation had still further depleted the Treasury, thus increasing social and economic ii.jiery. Here was indeed the chief danger which threatened the government. Whether it took the form of Royalism or Jacobinism the discontent was equally dangerous. French public opinion always condemns a government which cannot provide cheap bread. In Paris the allowance became daily smaller, more irregular, and of worse quality; the month of May saw people fainting and even dying of starvation in the streets. Some looked for the remedy to a restoration of the monarchy, others to the reestablishment of the Jacobins; but all malcontents with one voice condemned the existing government.

Besides all this, the Royalist turn which the reaction was taking began to cause the government grave disquietude; and it was not only in Paris that tbe restoration of Louis XVII was openly talked of. This was a forcible reminder to the Thermidorians that it was possible to carry the campaign against the Jacobins too far. The news therefore that the fiery populace of the south was beginning to take the law into its own hands, and that, on May 5, ninety-seven imprisoned Terrorists had been ruthlessly butchered at Lyons by an infuriated mob, was highly disturbing. It was followed by the intelligence of a further atrocity at Aix, where thirty Terrorists were lynched on May 11. This provoked (May 17) a Jacobin outbreak in Toulon, which was a hotbed of discontent against every government in turn, on account of the number of dockyard men thrown out of work by the ruin of the French navy. Conventional commissioners, with Isnard at their head, were instructed to suppress this revolt; and on the 31st, though only after a stout resist­ance, the rebellious city surrendered. Meanwhile the “ White Terror,” as it was called, broke out sporadically, all over the south. Avignon, Arles, and Marseilles, all towns which had suffered unheard-of horrors during the Red Terror, each in turn became the scene of popular retri­bution ; the last of the massacres took place at Marseilles on June 5.

These incidents, occurring at a time when Royalism and not Jacobinism was the danger, put the government in a serious difficulty. On May 1 Marie-Joseph Chenier had made a report, in which he deprecated the Royalist tone of the Provinces; and on May 10 the powers of the Committee of Public Safety were increased. The dis­arming of Terrorists ceased; and the government, terrified by the spectre of Royalism, suddenly relaxed its persecution of the Jacobins.

And now all the forces of discontent gathered against the govern­ment. In the Convention itself an active minority of ex-Terrorists was at work, under the leadership of Goujon, Romme, Bourbotte, Ruhl, and Ruamps. Round them rallied Royalists, Jacobins, and starving popu­lace, all in fact who desired the downfall of the Convention. For several days it was plain that another “journee ” was being¹ organised; a pro­gramme of insurrection Was even circulated in the disaffected quarters of Paris. On 1 Prairial (May 20) the storm broke. The insurrection of this date was in the main a bloody reproduction of that of 12 Germinal. Crowds were gathering in the Carrousel all the morning, and several attempts were made to force an entry into the Convention. About 4 p.m. the rabble broke through the National Guard at the doors, filled the hall, and began to threaten Boissy d’Anglas, who was in the chair. A deputy named Feraud, who intervened to protect him, was slain; and his head, placed on a pike, was held up before Boissy, who calmly bowed to it but remained immovable. The crowd continued for several hours to shout for “bread and the Constitution,” during which time many of the Moderate deputies effected their escape. About 9 o’clock, Boissy d’Anglas resigned the chair to Vernier, a feeble old man. The few disaffected deputies then forced through a number of decrees and com­menced to establish a provisional government.

Meanwhile the Committee of Public Safety had rallied a number of the bourgeois National Guard, and these, headed by some of the Thermi- dorian deputies, now rushed into the hall. After a prolonged struggle, the arrival of reinforcements enabled them to drive the rabble out of the building. Thirteen Montagnard deputies, who had taken con­spicuous part in the riot, were forthwith arrested; and by midnight order had been restored.

But the crisis was by no means ended by the clearing of the Convention. Next morning a “Convention of the Sovereign People” began to assemble at the Hotel de Ville, but soon discreetly withdrew to Saint-Antoine. A renewed attack on the Convention was evidently contemplated. The National Guard hurried off to blockade the in­surgents in the faubourg, but 5 p.m. saw them back at the Tuileries, with the rebels at their heels. The Convention, greatly alarmed, endeavoured to conciliate the mob by promises of bread, by ordering its Constitutional Committee to report within four days, and by repealing the laws which had restored confiscated property and reopened the Bourse. A deputation from the rebels was received, caressed by the Assembly, and dismissed with conciliatory promises.

But the leaders of the Convention were playing a double game; all these fair Words were intended only to postpone the issue; until regular troops could be called in to quell the insurrection. In the midst of the tumult of 1 Prairial the Committee of Public Safety had sent out hurried messages to gather all the nearest available battalions. Three thousand

cavalry entered Paris on May 22; and by the 23rd General Menou, to whom had been allotted the role played by Pichegru in Germinal, found himself at the head of 20,000 men. In face of this display of force the rebellious faubourg surrendered at discretion, and the assassin of Feraud was handed over and executed. Apart from this the restoration of order was attended by no bloodshed.    i

The attempt to repeat May 31 had utterly failed; and sixty-two Montagnards were promptly arrested for participation in the plot. Six were condemned to death; even Carnot and Lindet were for a time in danger. In every direction the embers of the Terror were firmly stamped out. The Revolutionary Tribunal was finally abolished; a further concession to religious feeling was made in the restoration of churches to the cults, on condition that the priests declared their obedience to the laws; the National Guard was subjected to a further epuration; and a permanent guard of regular troops was appointed to protect the Convention.

Public opinioi agreed in these Moderate measures and in the con­demnation of the Jacobin rebels; but it was by no means contented that the present government should continue. In the eyes of many the Republic stood condemned of inefficiency; and, with the final fall of the Jacobins, a strong feeling in favour of a restoration of the Monarchy in some form became apparent. For many months this feeling had indeed been on the increase; people talked significantly of the number “17” with allusion to Louis XVII; “ Veux-tu chasser de ton given Et la famine et la miseref Retablis lepetit mitron Dans la boutique de son pere,” ran a contemporary stanza, and it expressed very well the feeling of a large number of Parisians. The idea that famine and misery would end only with the reestablishment of the Monarchy grew every day in strength. Many eyes were thus turned to the Temple, in ignorance of the terrible tragedy that was being enacted within its walls.

The story of the Revolution is moving in many of its incidents; the resigned piety of Louis XVTs end and the superb dignity of his Queen’s, the sufferings of Bailly and the passing of Danton, stir us all to sympathy; but nothing in the whole blood-stained tale touches the heart-strings as does the slow and cruel torture to which the Dauphin was subjected for no fault but that of his birth. Sepa­rated from his mother on the night of July 3, 1793, he was handed over to the mercy of a friend of Marat—Simon, a cobbler—who received from the Comite de SArete Generate the assurance that the boy’s death would be welcome to them. By this low ruffian Louis was treated with inconceivable brutality; and, by the time that Simon resigned his post in January,, 1794, he had succeeded by kicks, blpws, and every kind of ilL-treatment, in utterly breaking the sensitive spirit of the delicate and tenderly-nurtured child. Robespierre did not provide another guardian in place of Simon; and active maltreatment now gave place

to absolute neglect—neglect even of the barest necessities of cleanliness and decency. Six months of such confinement of course amounted to murder accompanied by torture; the boy was found by the Thermi­dorians, dazed and almost witless, covered with sores and vermin, in a pestiferous cell. Respectable and honest keepers were now appointed^ who did their best to brighten the child’s life and alleviate his sufferings; but, as the Royalist reaction increased, the Thermidorians themselves acquiesced, tacitly but deliberately, in the slow murder which the Terrorists had commenced. Decency and cleanliness and a degree of warmth were granted to the prisoner; but the necessities of air, exercise, and good food, were still denied to him. In praising the moderation of the Thermidorian government it should never be forgotten that they share the blame for the most brutal crime of the whole Revolution.

Under these conditions the end was not likely to be long delayed, to the government no doubt the postponement of the child’s death was a cause of irritation and alarm. When serious illness was reported in May a doctor was grudgingly granted; but nothing could have been done even had they wished to save the boy’s life. The nursing of the dying child was neglected and every consideration and comfort denied; even his sister, confined in the same prison, was not allowed to see him. On June 10 the long sufferings were mercifully ended; the Dauphin passed away, hearing, as he confided to his keeper Lasne, “ heavenly music and the voice of his mother.”

- The government and all Republicans received the news with ill- concealed satisfaction. The murder was justified to them by its far-reaching results. With the death of the Dauphin the claim to the throne passed to the Comte de Provence, who was now wholly identified with the worst phases of the Emigration. From that moment a peaceful restoration became impossible; the very large and important party of constitutional Royalists, including Lanjuinais, who had recently come to desire a restoration with a constitution on the lines of that of 1791, at once resigned themselves to the continuance of the Republic. The Constitutional Committee, whose tone was so Royalist that it might have reported in favour of a constitutional monarchy, was forced to give up all such ideas and turned itself to the construction of a strong Republican executive.

The sacrifice of the Dauphin had indeed “consecrated the Republic,” but it was not to be expected that the Bourbons would give up the struggle without striking a blow\ and there was a minority in France which still regarded a restoration on the lines of the Constitution of 1791 as the best solution of the situation. Had Louis XVIII acted on the advice of Mallet du Pan and made a large and generous appeal to the French nation, offering to adopt the principles of 1791, to amnesty all who had taken part in the Revolution, and to recognise the social and economic changes of 1789 and 1790, he might have had some hope of

success. Instead of this however he united against him all French­men, with the exception of a few ultra-Royalists and the bnigres, by announcing that the Constitutionalists were more detestable to him than Robespierre himself. This avowal made it certain that a restoration meant the widen regime and endless retribution; and France had to abandon with reluctance her hope of finding a way out of her miseries by tui immediate constitutional restoration.

Quite on a level with this suicidal declaration of policy was the attempt which was made to carry it out. As it was hopeless to rally France to such a cause, the only course was to take advantage of the unrest in the west, to revive the insurrection there, and supply it with aid from without. The peace between the Republic and the rebellious Provinces rested on insecure foundations; the disarmament of the insurgents had proved impossible; and the result was that the Vendeen armies still existed, disembodied it is true, but ready to mobilise at a signal from their leaders. The local militia had simply become a small insurgent army under the command of Charette, and was prepared to become at any moment a nucleus for renewed hostilities. The Vendee was thus in fact occupied by the armies of the late combatants, whose attitude to each other became daily more menacing. In Britanny also the peace of La Mabilais had turned out a failure: in both Provinces therefore a renewal of hostilities was momentarily expected. The Royalists now determined to take advantage of these circumstances. Puisaye, who had been sent to England in 1794, had been favourably received and was assured of English assistance.

With a show of scruple, strange in men who had just dealt so cavalierly with the feelings of their countrymen, the Royalist leaders decided that the assistance from Great Britain must be indirect. The actual invaders of France must all be Frenchmen, though they might come in British ships, supplied with British arms and British money. As the preparations were nearing completion, the welcome intelligence arrived that Hoche, who perceived that the western insurgents were actively preparing for a fresh rebellion, had ordered the arrest of as many of their leaders as could be seized.

Encouraged by the news of this breach the expedition set sail from Portsmouth on June 10. A French fleet under Villaret-Joyeuse was defeated on the 22nd; and on the 27th 3600 emigres disembarked near the promontory of Quiberon. Now however the inherent weakness of the expedition showed itself. A dispute arose as to the command between Puisaye and his colleague d’Hervilly; and the latter declined to join in an immediate advance, which was the only chance of raising Britanny. Invaluable time was then wasted in occupying the useless peninsula of Quiberon, which was covered by the fortress of Penthievre. This was a mere death-trap; and Puisaye and the Chouans, a large force of whom had joined the invaders, at last persuaded d’Hervilly to give

battle. Hoche’s skill and resolution combined with the insane tactics of the Royalists to ensure defeat; and on July 19 the luckless expedition found itself shut up on the barren promontpry. On July 20 Hoche took the protecting fort by a night attack; 1800 fugitives managed to escape in the boats of the English fleet, and 6000, of whom 1000 were bnigris, fell into the hands of the Republicans. The episode ended tragically in a wholesale massacre of the emigres prisoners. Tallien had been sent from Paris to represent the Convention. In his absence the Royalist intrigues in which he had been engaged began to leak out; no better way occurred to him of proving his loyalty to the Republic than the destruction of a few hundred helpless prisoners; he hurried to Pari* and advocated this course with strenuous vehemence. The Convention, effete and timorous, was easily persuaded to the bloody deed; and, acting on instructions from Paris, a Court Martial sentenced 690 emigres to death.

The dangers to which the Republic was exposed by the languor of the Convention and the weakness of the governing committee made it daily more important that some settlement should be reached on the question of a constitution. The Constitutional Committee, appointed on April 23, had had no easy task. The materisil with which it had to deal had been constantly changing; in particular the death of Louis XVII had entirely altered its plans; that event had made monarchy impossible, while the failure of the emeute of Prairial had finally sealed the fate of the democratic Constitution of 1793. Consequently the report, which Boissy d’Anglas introduced on June 23, proposed plans for an entirely new Constitution. The principles which had guided the Committee were sane, and the proposals of Boissy d’Anglas went far to solve the really considerable difficulties of the situation. It was necessary to separate completely the legislative and executive bodies; to leave both powerful in their proper spheres, and above all to preserve the executive from undue dependence on the legislative. It was necessary to simplify and recentralise the local government; to give security to property, and to the economic arrangements which the Revolution had established; to curb finally the Paris mob; and to place the government of France in the hands of men who might be presumed to be qualified for the task. Such were the problems which the new Constitution was to solve, and the enumeration of its provisions will show how it went about the task.

Universal suffrage was abolished, and abolished, it should be noted, with scarcely a protest. Residence and the payment of some taxation became the qualification for the franchise; this franchise was to be exercised directly, that is by the Primary Assemblies at first hand. But the greatest blow at democracy was the revival of a property qualification for members of the Legislative Body: in future no one who did not possess house or landed property was to be eligible. The Constitution thus became a bourgeois Constitution; and this struck a deadly blow at democracy.

As to the Legislative Body, the Committee fell back on the long despised bicameral system. There were to be two Councils* the Conseil des Cinq^Cents and the Conseil des Anciens, forming the Corps Legislatif; the members of the former body were to be elected by the Primary Assemblies and the Anciens were to be elected from and by the entire Corps Legislatif’, the Cimq-Cents alone could initiate legislation, and the Anciens (who numbered 250) had the power of vetoing any measure for one year. An age qualification of thirty years in the Cinq-Cerits and forty in the Anciens was imposed. The Executive had been the great difficulty; the idea of a single “ Consul ” had commended itself to those who still hankered after a monarchy^ but, after the death of Louis XVII, this plan was given up and it was finally agreed to propose a Directory of five. These five were to be chosen by the Anciens from a list of fifty drawn up by the Cinq-Cents; they were to control the Ministries and in fact to inherit the powers of the Comite de Salut Public. But they were not to sit in the Legislative Body, nor to control the Exchequer; they were forbidden to command troops in person, and were liable to impeachment. One Director was to retire annually.

Such was the body politic proposed by the Committee; but the Constitution went on to lay down a number of Constitutional Principles. In the first place the freedom of the Chambers was secured; voting was to be secret; the place of meeting of the Legislative Body could be changed by the Anciens to some other town; the sittings were to be public, but the galleries were not to accommodate spectators numbering more than half the members of either Council, and no processions were allowed to pass through the halls which they occupied. The members were granted also certain safeguards from impeachment; a guard of 1500 men was provided, and troops were not to come within a specified distance of either Council. It will be noted how the disastrous ex­perience of the Legislative and Convention had burnt itself into the minds of the draughtsmen of the new Constitution.

The Committee had next turned to the protection of private rights. The Declaration of the Rights of Man was retained. No differences of rank were recognised, nor any State religion. Freedom of the press, and security of property were guaranteed: labour was to be untrammelled, domiciles inviolable; there were to be no clubs—a blow at the Jacobins —no public sittings of political societies, no armed assemblies. Societies were not to present petitions: the Committee had not forgotten May 31. The return of the emigres was irrevocably forbidden, and the confiscated property of both clergy and emigres finally guaranteed to its purchasers —a blow at the ultra-Royalists. With regard to local government the Departmental Directories were revived at the expense of the Communes; centralisation such as had not existed in France since the abolition of Intendants was to be the order of the day.

The Convention discussed these proposals for seven weeks and did not

accept them without alteration; for instance, the principle of double election was maintained and a ligh qualification fixed for secondary electors; passive citizens were accorded a vote if they voluntarily taxed themselves to the extent of the value of three days’ work. The property qualification for members of the Legislative Body was suppressed; and the members of the Anciens were required by a curious provision to be either married or widowers. Gradualite, a plan of Mirabeau’s which the Committee had adopted, providing that no one should hold high office without first having held subordinate office, was rejected. The Year xii was selected, in preference to the Committee’s suggestion of the Year ix, as the date by which all citizens must qualify for the franchise by ability to read and write and by the exercise of a metier mecanique. Finally the duration of the Legislative Body was fixed at three years, one-third of the members retiring eveiy year.

Such was the final plan of the Convention for terminating the Revolution and establishing a settled rigime in lieu of the provisional government of the Convention. It provoked little enthusiasm and some criticism, and was acceptable to the people, not for any inherent virtues, but as the only means at hand for getting rid of the Convention, whose rule had long since become intolerable. The summoning of the Primary Assemblies held out the hope that—whatever the merits or defects of the Constitution itself—its working would be entrusted to men who, for the first time since 1789, would really represent the people of France. This feet, which to the majority of Frenchmen was the redeeming feature in the Constitution, caused the gravest alarm to the Convention itself. The Republic had so long stifled the voice of popular opinion, monopolised the title of “ patriotism,” and paraded the rabble minority as the respectable majority, that it is difficult to realise that from first to last, save when true patriotism seemed temporarily to forbid it, the people of France had preserved in a great degree tbeir attachment to monarchical government. We have seen how the hopes of a restoration had been blighted by the death of Louis XVII, and the impolitic attitude of Louis XVIII; but the desire for a monarchical constitution was not dead, and most men believed that the Primary Assemblies would, if allowed to exercise the functions allotted to them by the Constitution, put the working of that Constitution into the hands of men who would ultimately convert it into some form of monarchy. This was a threat not only to the political ambitions, but to the personal security of the Republican majority in the Convention; and all its Republican members at once rallied against the idea of B&yalism. The Thermidorians and all regicides joined the ex-Terrorist Montagnards in this struggle for self-preservation.

On August 18 Baudin, reporting for the Committee of Eleven, pro­posed a measure which utterly destroyed the hope that the Primary Assemblies would be allowed a free voice in the forthcoming elections;

two-thirds of the members of the present Convention were to pass into the new Corps Ligislatif. This was agreed to without protest; and it became a question whether the Convention or the Primary Assemblies should nominate that two-thirds. After long and angry debates it was decided (August 22) that this remnant of the rights accorded by the Constitution should be left to the electors. Further encroachments on the Constitution were also decreed, the age qualification of thirty for the Cmq-Cents was relaxed for the benefit of Tallien, and the exclusion of members of the Legislative Body from the Directory for that of Cambaceres. Such were the decrees of 5 and 13 Fructidor.

Never had there been a more barefaced act of usurpation, and loud was the outcry from the disappointed electors. The Constitution was hurriedly submitted to the Primary Assemblies, and sanctioned by 914,000 votes out of 958,000; while the “ decrees of the two-thirds ” were only accepted by 167,000 out of 263,000, a significant fall in the majority. In the Sections of Paris a great clamour at once arose; and deputation after deputation appeared at the bar with threatening protests. Not­withstanding this the Convention on September 23 proclaimed the Constitution, and fixed October 2 for the nomination of the Electoral Colleges, October 12 for the election of deputies, and November 6 for the meeting of the Corps Ligislatif.

For a well-ordered Royalist policy the agitation which followed these decrees would have been an admirable opportunity. Mallet du Pan declared that Louis could and should have put himself at the head of the Sectional resistance; but he was! too deeply involved in fanciful schemes for the restoration of the ancien regime and the whole pre­rogative to understand the significance of the crisis. The latest and most futile of the ultra-Royalist enterprises was an expedition of the Comte d’Artois to the coast of the Vendee. He was at this moment hesitating to disembark and continued hesitating until the end of September, when he landed on the tie d’Yeu; but Hoche’s determined preparations frightened him, and in November he withdrew in cowardly fashion to England, leaving Charette and Stofflet, who had gathered considerable forces, to shift for themselves. The Count’s desertion was a death-sentence to the two remaining guerilla chiefs. They were captured and executed, Stofflet in January, and Charette in March, cursing the cowardice of their traitorous Prince. With their death the long struggle of the Vendee was concluded.

Quite distinct from the intrigues described above, the genuine agitation in Paris against the Convention was coming to a head. The Primary Assemblies of the Sections of the Capital, which had rejected the decrees of Fructidor with a unanimity marred only by the defection of Section Quinze- Vingis, continued to sit in defiance Of the law, and, headed by the wealthier central Sections, of which Section Lepelletier was the most prominent, became the centre of agitation. By the morning of 12 Vendemiaire forty-four out of forty-eight Sections were in revolt,

backed by some 30,000 National Guards. ■ The Convention retaliated by decreeing itself in permanence and despatching General Menou to deal with Section Lepelletier. Menou, however, was determined to avoid bloodshed and contented himself with remonstrances. He was at once removed by the Convention, who appointed Barras and four others to keep order (n: ^ht of 12-13 Vendemiai re). Barras proposed the arming of a “sacred battalion of patriots”; a crowd of ex-Terrorists were liberated and armed; and, terrified by a measure which threatened to revive the Terror, the respectable Sections now finally determined to resist. Both sides, however, were without plans or organisation. The Sections had their 30,000 National Guards, but were without artillery, and had entrusted the command to General Danican, a man of no energy or capacity. The Convention had its 1500 “ patriots ” and 4000 regulars, but it lacked artillery. Barras, however, displayed both ingenuity and energy, and was no doubt aided by the genius of Bonaparte, who had just lost his appointment at the War Office and grasped with alacrity the opportunity for distinction which the crisis seemed to offer. He was not, as has often been asserted, second in command to Barras; indeed his position was very ill-defined; but Barras trusted him, and he made great use of him during the insurrection. The fact was at once grasped that the possession of cannon would be a decisive factor; and at midnight Murat was sent galloping off to Les Sablons to secure the forty pieces of the National Guard which were parked there. By 6 a.m. these cannon were in the precincts of the Tuileries; and the organisation of the defence commenced. All the narrow streets which led to the Palace were secured and all the bridges, save the Pont-Neuf which was held by Danican, were guarded.

It was not until the afternoon of 13 Vendemiaire that the Sections began their advance on the Tuileries. For a time it was unchecked; and the assailants occupied the line of the Rue Saint-Honore. Who began the action is still a matter of doubt; but, fighting once begun, the possession of cannon directed by an expert artillery officer quickly decided the day. The attacks on the approaches to the Tuileries were repulsed by artillery fire, and a few volleys of grape-shot quickly cleared the Rue Saint-Honore; the attack by the left b^ank of the river was equally unsuccessful. By 9.30 p.m. the crisis was over. About 100 of the insurgents had been killed. On the 14th the Conventional troops occupied the rebellious quarters.

The usurpation of the Convention was now complete, and had been sealed by force of arms, the best title for all usurpers. It is impossible not to contrast the events of 13 Vendemiaire, An iv, with those of August 10, 1792. Had the defence of the Tuileries, on behalf of the legitimate sovereign, been conducted on that day with a tithe of the determination now displayed on behalf of a usurping body, the Revolu­tion might have been checked and France might have been spared the three terrible years of democratic tyranny. ,,

The victors of Vendemiaire were wise enough to refrain from all attempt at reprisals on their antagonists. Two of the ringleaders of the Sections were executed, but Menou, though put on trial for his ambiguous conduct, was acquitted. Bonaparte was appointed second in command of the army of the Interior, and, on the resignation of Barras, became its commander-in-chief. But in the Convention itself the result was a fresh upheaval of parties. The Thermidorians began to draw away from their allies of the Gironde, and to join the extreme Montagnards in demanding legislation which would curb the Royalist reaction and prevent it from dominating the elections. The Electoral Colleges had already been chosen; and everyone foresaw that, so far as the restrictive decrees of Fructidor permitted, they would nominate Moderates, and even Royalists, at the expense of the Conventionals. Tallien and the self-seekers were furious at the prospect of political extinction and now accordingly allied themselves with the Montagnards, intending to use the recent insurrection as an excuse for gagging the electors. It was proposed to quash the primaiy elections of Paris, to liberate all “ patriots,” including the “ Prairial ” prisoners, and confine all Emigres and priests. On October 9 there was a fierce quarrel between Tallien and Lanjuinais, with the result that Tallien crossed to the Mountain, and on the 15th denounced Lanjuinais from that side of the Assembly. Tallien had waited before taking this drastic step for the commencement of the secondary elections (October 12), and only took it because the country was nominating Moderates and Royalists. On October 22 he proposed the nomination of a committee of five to advise the Convention as to the steps it should take. The only hope at the moment was that the Convention might be persuaded to quash the elections with a high hand, adjourn the Con­stitution, perpetuate its own rule, and make this committee its executive: but Tallien’s design was unmasked on the 23rd by Thibaudeau, who boldly denounced the attempt to override the Constitution. Thibaudeau carried with him the majority of the Convention ; and the Committee of Five was obliged to be content with a renewal of some of the old penalties against Emigres and priests (3 Brumaire). The real intentions of the Committee are laid bare by the fact that they also proposed the re­imposition of the maximum, which, however, was rejected.

The Moderates had thus been so far successful that the decree for the close of the Convention on October 26 was maintained. During the last stormy weeks many excellent minor measures were passed, dealing with educational, legal, and social questions. The last measure, however, showed once more the attitude of parties; it was a proposal to amnesty all political offenders since 1791. The Right moved to except the offenders of Prairial, the Left those of Vendemiaire, and the latter triumphed. The Convention then dissolved itself (October 26), and on the following day those Conventionals who had been elected to the Councils assembled; on October 30 the candidates for the Directory were nominated; and oh November 4 the new government was completed.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE GENERAL WAR.

The death of the Emperor Leopold on March 1,1792, removed the only hand which was capable of restraining and tempering those out­bursts of feeling, both in Austria and France, which had for the last two years threatened to plunge Europe into the vortex of war. The first note of the approaching strife was heard when, in an outburst pf enthusiasm, the Constituent Assembly had swept away once and for all throughout all the dominions of the French King the last lingering traces of feudalism. The question, at once arose, whether France had the right to deprive the landowners of Alsace of those feudal privileges which she had more or less guaranteed at the Peace of West­phalia, and had confirmed by subsequent treaties. In February, 1790, certain Electors, Princes, Knightly Orders, and Knights of the Holy Roman Empire, who held lands in Alsace, sent a protest to the French government. This protest was referred to the Feudal Committee of the Constituent Assembly. The Committee, under the influence of Merlin of Douai, in October, l790, brought its report before the Assembly. They asserted that the unity of France and Alsace rested on the unanimous decision of the Alsatians; that ancient treaties and the stipulations of their former rulers could no longer bind a free people. Mirabeau saw that such a declaration could only mean war; and accordingly he per­suaded the Assembly to pass a resolution to uphold the sovereignty of France in Alsace, but at the same time to ask the King to arrange that a sufficient indemnity should be paid to the Princes of the Empire in compensation for their losses. This resolution however only postponed the question, for the majority of the Princes refused to accept any mone­tary compensation and took their cases to the imperial Diet.

But this was not the only cause of friction between France and Austria which arose out of the side-issues of the Revolution. The King and Queen in secret, and the Comte d’Artois and the Prince de Conde openly, had demanded the assistance of the other European Powers to enable them to suppress the Revolution by force. In December, 1791, Leopold had sent a strongly worded protest against the transference of

the imperial territories in Alsace. He had offered secret aid and an asylum to the French royal family at the time of the flight to Varennes; and further, in July, 1791, he had issued a circular from Padua to the monarchs of Europe, calling on them to aid him in freeing the French King from popular restraint. This circular had led to a conference between the Emperor and the King of Prussia at Pillnitz in August. It was there settled that, since the preservation of the French monarchy was an object of universal interest, an invitation should be sent to the other European Powers, calling on them to aid in restoring¹ the Kang of France to his rightful position; but at the same time safeguarding the liberties of the French people. To attain this object the two sovereigns promised to mobilise their forces provided the other Powers would aid them. The object of Leopold in issuing this declaration was to intimidate the French people. He knew that the English government would refuse to intervene: that Russia would promise but would not perform: that the Kings of Spain and Prussia and the Stadholder of Holland had all very different objects at heart. He had himself more anxiety for the safety of his sister, and for the maintenance of the French alliance, than for lie constitutional position of the King of France. Accordingly, he hailed with joy Louis’ acceptance of the new Consti­tution in September. It was in accordance with this policy that the Emperor, early in January, 1792, at the request of the French King, had used his influence to compel the Electors of Trier and Mainz to disperse the armed bands of bnigris who, under d’Artois and Conde, had assembled in those electorates.

But the train fired at Pillnitz was not destined to be thus easily extinguished. So recently as December, 1791, the Emperor’s Chancellor Kaunitz had used expressions in a note, which implied that there was still in existence a league against France. And later, on February 17, 1792, Leopold had allowed Kaunitz to send another despatch, which loaded the Girondist leaders of the war party in Paris with abuse, and called on the French nation to free itself from men who desired to plunge Europe into a devastating war. Meanwhile Gustavus III of Sweden was exerting himself to the uttermost at Spa to aid the French imigres; and Catharine of Russia was striving to embroil Austria and Prussia with France, so that she might have her hands free to deal with Poland. In February, 1792, the offensive and defensive alliance concluded between Austria and Prussia perceptibly increased the chances of war.

In France itself there were two parties who desired war. The royalist party thought that a European war would either have the effect of rein­forcing the kingly power at the point of the bayonet, or of restoring the fallen prestige of the monarchy by a successful resistance to the foreigner; while the Girondins, who came into power in March, had already begun to fear the Republican tendencies of the Jacobins, and hoped by a successful foreign war to establish their own authority, and keep the

strings of government in their own hands. The policy of the Girondins was if possible to isolate the war so that France should only have to fight her old enemy Austria. Events seemed to be tending in this direc­tion, when, in March, 1792, the death of the Emperor Leopold, and the murder of the Swedish monarch Gustavus III, brought Frederick William II of Prussia into a leading position. Frederick William’s character was a curious mixture of vacillation and obstinacy, of pride and self-delusion. He was in reality much more interested in the affairs of Poland than in the question of France; but he was thoroughly con­vinced that the French Revolution was a danger to all crowned heads in Europe, and that, if he allowed Austria to assume the championship of the Empire, the position of Prussia would be forfeited. Accordingly, in spite of the strong French sympathies of an influential party under the leadership of his uncle Prince Henry, he refused to be cajoled by the French government into renouncing his alliance of February, 1792. When, on April 20, the King of France declared war on the King of Hungary and Bohemia, Frederick William at once took measures to support his ally. At that moment nobody thought that Europe was entering on a war which would rage almost without intermission for twenty-three years. France in the opinion of the cabinets of Europe was already a political nonentity; and it seemed even doubtful if she would be able to put an army into the field.

At the commencement of the Revolution, the French army compared not unfavourably in numbers with the two other great standing armies of central Europe. The Austrian army was the largest. It had a peace footing of some 270,000 regular troops, which could be raised to a war footing of 400,000. But Austria had hitherto seldom shown great military aptitude. The Prussian army had a peace footing of 162,658 and a war footing of 250,000: its organisation was believed to be excel­lent, and it had already established a reputation for quick mobilisation and hard fighting. The French army was slightly larger than the Prus­sian army. On a peace footing it was composed of 172,974 regular ■;roops, and 55,240 militia; which on the outbreak of war could be augmented to 210,948 regulars and 76,000 militia, or, in round numbers, to a total war strength of 295,000.

During the period which followed the Seven Years’ War the French army had undergone many sound reforms which were due in the main to the genius of the great Foreign Minister Choiseul. After Choiseul’s fall, Saint-Germain, the War Minister, a disciple of the German school, continued to work on the same lines. Saint-Germain laid great stress on peace manoeuvres, and tried moreover to get rid of the old abuse whereby, on the outbreak of war, troops were hastily brigaded, and placed under chiefs whom they had never seen before. This reform was not effected till March, 1788, when the Council of War published an ordinance whereby France, including Corsica, was divided into 17

military districts. The districts then of most importance, Flanders, the three Bishoprics of Metz, Toul, and Verdun, and Alsace, were confided to Marshals of France; the other 14 districts were to be commanded by Lieutenant-Generals, with complete powers within their districts. Each Commander-in-chief was responsible within his district for the maintenance of discipline, instruction, and administration in accord­ance with the King’s regulations; he was also responsible for main­taining harmony with the civil power, and for all arrangements for transport and supply of troops within his district. The consequence of this reform was that the French army in 1789 was composed of 21 divi­sions, each commanded by a Lieutenant-General; these divisions were split up into brigades, so that in the event of war the army would be ready to take the field under the same staff which had trained it in time of peace. The militia was composed of 78 garrison battalions, 14 provincial regiments, and 15 regiments of royal grenadiers. By an ordinance of May, 1778, each garrison battalion was linked to a regular regiment, and a territorial district was allotted to each regiment. The militia battalion, in time of war, was destined for garrison service, and to supply the depot for its regular regiment.

To turn now to the personnel of the army. Up to the Revolution the army had been recruited entirely by voluntary enlistment. Recruit­ing was not confined to France, and there still remained in the French service 23 regiments of foreigners. Recruits were either attracted by hope of glory, or dazzled by the uniform and bounty, or driven into the service by troubles at home. As might have been expected the type of recruit was often undesirable; they were too often loafers, deserters, or malefactors. The term of enlistment was for eight years; the standard of height was low, 5 feet 1 inch for the infantry. There were however several very serious obstacles to recruiting. The pay was poor (6 sous a day); the government bread was bad; the meat often uneatable; barrack accommodation was so scanty that two or three soldiers had to sleep in each bed; the barracks and the hospitals were most insanitary. Although serious attempts were made to improve both the food and the hospital arrangements, it is not to be wondered at that the army lost on an average 20,000 men a year from death and desertion. In spite of these drawbacks there was good fighting material in the royal army. The old soldier might, occasionally be dissolute, turbulent, and drunken, but discipline was always easily enforced. There was a strong feeling of esprit de corps in the several regiments; and on service the natural vivacity and cheerfulness of their nation carried the French soldiers through all difficulties and dangers. With plenty of intelligence, quick­witted, and hard-working, they could always be relied on to rally or cover a retreat.

The backbone of the army was the non-commissioned officer, grown gray in arms, experienced, and proud of his authority; always capable

of commanding a section, usually fit to command a company. He understood his men, guided Ihem, and enjoyed their coirplete confidence. The American War had attracted a superior class to the ranks, with the result that by 1788 it was possible to enforce certain literary and practical tests on all candidates for promotion to the ranks of corporal and of sergeant. The regimental officers were drawn from the lesser nobility, and their fathers and grandfathers had often served before them. Their training commenced when they were 10, and the majority of them had passed through some military college. By 1789 purchase had been abolished. But still there was little incentive to make the officer improve himself. Court favour, influence, and money, were supreme. Thus the officers had no inducement to make themselves efficient, and frequently left everything to their non-commissioned officers. Promotion from the ranks was all but impossible. This grievance had been aggravated when the Comte de Segur in 1781 passed an ordinance, which excluded all roturiers from becoming officers, save in the artillery and engineers. Moreover, colonelcies of regiments, and many of the higher staff appointments, were held by young noblemen and princes who often had little or no knowledge of military science, and whose promotion, even when justified by their knowledge, blocked the way of their less fortunate rivals.

As regards its tactics the French army was quite as advanced as the other armies of the Continent. Guibert by his Essay on Tactics, and by proof in the field, had shown that the old system of close column was obsolete. By 1789 the extended order of Frederick the Great had become the drill of the French army. In the infantry and cavalry branches of its service the French army was the equal of the Prussian army, while superior to it in respect of artillery and engineers. The French artillery was the finest in Europe, both as ' agards numbers, the excellence of its material, and the skill and courage of its personnel; while France was the only European Power which paid proper attention to the art of military engineering.

The moment of the outbreak of the Revolution was an unfortunate one for the army. The new system of decentralisation had not had time to take root. The irritation, caused by the introduction of the Prussian military punishments and by the ordinance which forbade roturiers from becoming officers, had not yet died away. Further the army was suffering, as all armies must suffer, from the effects of a long spell of peace. Still, the meeting of the States General had at first little effect on the army. The officers took no prominent part in the elections. The private soldier had no vote. However, among the cahiers sent up to the Assembly there were many which called for the amelioration of the lot of the soldier. Some demanded better barrack accommodation, more sanitary conditions, better winter clothing, and better food. Others called for better pay, for the privilege of being employed on civil works

during the period of their military service, and for more scrupulous observance of the terms of service. But the most numerous were those which demanded the abolition of all degrading forms of punishment.

Up to the fall of the Bastille the attitude of the army was doubtful; although owing to the unpopularity of their commander there had already been a mutiny among the Gardes Fran$aises. But after that date it was quite certain that (except the regiments of foreigners) the troops could not be relied upon in the case of riots, as they would not fire on the populace. In all the military districts (save that of the east, where de Bouille commanded a powerful force of 25,000 men) discipline deteriorated ; and by the month of September 16,000 men had deserted their regiments, and enrolled themselves in the National Guards of Paris.

Meanwhile all over Prance the bourgeoisie were organising themselves into National Guards. On paper this force was almost two million strong, though in reality its numbers were considerably less. But at best it was imperfectly equipped and organised. Still, the National Guards aided the regular army in putting down the bands of brigands which swarmed over the country, and helped in the conveyance of supplies of com, which was the main duty of the army during the winter of 1789, and the first half of 1790.

The march of the women to Versailles and the virtual imprisonment of the King in the Tuileries struck a great blow at the fidelity of the army. The ominous words “ Fatherland ” and ^u Liberty ” began to be heard in the barracks. Little by little the soldiers began to grasp the new idea that they were no longer the King’s soldiers. Hence they came into collision with their officers; for the officers had been educated in the faith that above everything stood the King. The National Assembly regarded the revolutionary spirit of the soldiers with favour; and in June, 1790, it not only refused to sanction the measures by which the Minister of War proposed to put down the numerous mutinies, but decreed that each regiment should send a deputation to the meeting of the Federations in Paris on July 14, 1790. This action, in the opinion of de Bouille, was the cause of the general insurrection which within a month took place all through the army. The soldiers everywhere demanded that their officers should take the oath of allegiance to the nation. All good order and military discipline were at an end. Even in the corps of de Bouille, which had hitherto been regarded as most loyal to the King, only the Swiss and the German troops could be relied on. In every regiment there had sprung up committees in communication with the Jacobin members of the Assembly: these committees pretended that the officers had withheld sums of money due to the regiments. Mutinies broke out at Brest, Saarlouis, Metz, Saargemiind, and Mar­seilles. The two most ominous phenomena in these insurrections, in which they differed from all preceding mutinies, were first that every­where the soldiers rose under organised committees, and secondly that

they acted in accordance with instructions sent from the Jacobin Club in Paris.

On August 6, 1790, the Assembly appointed inspectors to enquire into the soldiers’ accounts; but in many cases the audit was the signal cor fresh mutinous outbursts. This was especially the case at Nancy, where three regiments rose in mutiny; and the mutiny was only put down by de Bouille and his German and Swiss regiments after three hours’ hard fighting (August 31)* By 1791 the epoch of suspicion had commenced; and the soldiers were encouraged by Jacobin emissaries to believe that their officers were in communication with the emigres. On June 21, 1791, came the attempted flight of the King to the army of de Bouille. From that moment the position of the regimental officers became intolerable; humiliations were their daily lot; suspicion and danger hung ever over their heads. They had seen the Princes of the Blood, the higher nobility, and a great number of the higher officers of the army, flying across the frontier. They had hitherto stood fast at their posts because they took their orders only from the King; but now they saw that the King himself desired to leave France. It was clear then that their duty also lay across the frontier; the King, by his actions, had relieved them from their oaths. They were free; the oath taken to the nation was nothing. When convictions such as these had taken possession of them, we cannot greatly blame the officers who now deserted. June 21, 1791, is one of the dates which mark the change of the Royal Army into the Army of the Revolution.

By August it became necessary to take steps to supply the places of those officers who had deserted. The officers who remained either hoped against hope that their troops would stand loyal, or saw in the changes of revolution that opportunity of advancement which had hitherto been denied to them, or were by their patriotism led to stand by the nation rather than by the King. The Assembly now issued a decree that one half of the new commissions were to be allotted to non-commissioned officers of the regiments in which the vacancies had occurred, and the remainder were to be allotted to the sons of citoyens actifs, that is, citizens who had paid sufficient taxes to render them eligible to sit in the Assembly.

A further decree was passed condemning, as deserters, all officers absent without leave since May 1,1791, and at the same time forbidding soldiers to intimidate their officers into desertion. But this latter decree had little effect. Although in September the King took the oath to the new Constitution, order and confidence were by no means restored in the army. In spite of numerous decrees and of the new Military Code of October, 1791, the later part of the year was marked by increasing insubordination and disorder in the army. War alone could cure these deep-seated evils; and it was during these very months that it began to be dear that war was inevitable. That this war when it came proved to

be a national and not a civil war was owing to the bnigris who, instead of remaining in France and summoning to the aid of the Crown all the latent forces of royalism; had crossed the frontier with the intention of returning at the heels of the Austrians and Prussians.

Since war was within a measurable distance, a decree of the Assembly (December 14, 1791) divided into three armies the troops stationed along that portion of the frontier which was threatened. The Army of the North was entrusted to Rochambeau, the Army of the Centre to Lafayette, both of whom had served in America; while the Army of the Rhine fell to the command of Luckner, an old German hussar. These three armies were the first armies of the Revolution. The soldiers were still those raised by the old Monarchy, but their spirit was already revolutionary. The personnel of the officers had undergone profound modification. The majority of the infantry and cavalry officers were gone. The greater part of tbe old staff of the army had either retired or emigrated, but the artillery and engineer officers remained. New generals and new staffs had been appointed; ambition was to be henceforward the order of the day.

Hitherto the natural method of increasing the army in time of war had been to mobilise and expand the militia; but this was now impossible, because the militia, in the eyes of the children of the Revolution, repre­sented one of the worst abuses of the old regime. The National Guards had all along retained their local character, and had never been taken under the control of the central government; nevertheless, dded by the regulars, they had once or twice done some service in maintaining local order. In 1791, when war seemed imminent, the idea took shape of transforming the National Guards into troops for active service. This scheme however met with little favour, especially among the National Guards themselves. Various other schemes for reinforcing the regular army by volunteers were mooted. Under the panic created by the flight of the King, the Assembly passed several decrees; and on August 17 it called for 101,000 volunteers to take up arms, and decided that these volunteers should be formed into 169 battalions. Owing to the fear of invasion the battalions in the north-east filled up rapidly; but over the rest of France many difficulties were met with. In the first moment of enthusiasm men of all ages hastened to enrol themselves; but when the order to march arrived the majority remained at home. By September 25 only 60 out of the 169 battalions bad any sort of organisation. Further, even in these 60 battalions the greatest disorder and insubordination reigned; and their march through France was one great plundering expedition.

The War Minister of France at this moment was the Comte de Narbonne. It was mainly owing to his endeavours that France had still any regular army and that the volunteers had any organisation; but in spite of this the Assembly did its best to thwart him at every point. In

January, 1792, three months before war was declared, Narbonne laid before the Assembly a report, which showed that the army was 51,000 below strength ; and that it was impossible to get recruits for the regulars owing to the superior attractions of pay and service in the volunteers. Meanwhile, the Assembly issued two decrees which almost entirely crip­pled the volunteer organisation. The first decree gave the volunteers liberty to return home at the end of each campaign, on giving their commanding officers two months’ notice (a campaign, being supposed to end on December 1); and the second decree allowed the volunteers to choose their own officers. The question of officers was a difficult one. The course which good sense would have dictated at this moment was to place the nomination of volunteer officers in the hands of the military authorities, and to brigade the volunteer regiments with regular regiments of the line. But the Assembly refused to take either of these steps. Fortunately for Fiance, Lafayette, who commanded the Army of the Centre, of his own initiative brigaded the volunteers with the regulars. From the success of this experiment the generals commanding the other corps in time followed his example; so that when the crisis came the French army, thanks to its backbone of regular troops, was able to oppose some sort of resistance to the enemy.

Thus, at the commencement of 1792, France was about to enter on a war with an army composed partly of regular soldiers of the old regime (whose discipline had been debauched by three years of licensed insub­ordination, and whose officers were either viewed with suspicion by their men, or, what was fortunately often the case, old non-commissioned officers but yet untried in their new rank) partly of volunteers who had as yet little organisation and less discipline; with a general staff whose personnel was constantly changing at each fresh outburst of suspicion; with fort­resses long neglected, badly armed, and ill provisioned; with no system of transport and supply; with a War Office which had still all the faults of the old regime, its lack of method, its want of responsibility. Mean­while the Ministers of War succeeded each other in quick succession, Narbonne, de Grave, Servan, Dumouriez, Ladjard, and d’Abancourt, six ministers in six months. Further, the plans,, good or bad, of these ephemeral Ministers of War were constantly overridden by an Assembly, in which passion stood for statesmanship, and hypocrisy for patriotism. That France emerged from this strife, reeling it is true, but unsubdued, was due to two causes. First the artillery and engineers, the two scientific corps where long training is everything, had always escaped the faults of the old regime, and had consequently suffered little during the last three years; while in the line under the stress of warfare the old soldier recovered to a great extent his accustomed habit of discipline ; and the volunteers of 1791, after having been brigaded for some months with regulars, became in time trustworthy troops. But the second cause, and that which really saved France, was that the

armies of her two great enemies, Prussia and Austria, had fallen far below their old standard, and that owing to their mutual jealousy all the evils of a coalition and of a divided command were to be seen at their worst.

Though war was declared on April 20, 1792, neither side was really prepared for it; mobilisation proceeded but slowly, and active hostilities did not break out till much later. The French preparations were marked by all the blunders which might have been expected, when an inexperienced War Minister like Servari received his instructions from a passionate Assembly which knew still less of the art of war. Instead of attempting to bring the regular regiments and the volunteers up to their full strength, the Assembly contented itself with sanctioning Servan’s scheme of calling out 20,000 federes in July, to form a camp near Paris. In August and September it voted another levy of 42 battalions of volunteers when as yet only 83 battalions of the levy of 1791 came near to being complete. These volunteers of 1792 must not be confused with those of 1791. The volunteers of 1791, bad as they were at first, were composed of a much higher class than those of 1792, and in time formed excellent troops. But the levies of 1792 were composed of fanatics of the lower orders, impregnated with all the doctrines of Jacobinism, and never took any active part in the war.

The Assembly had counted upon opposing 300,000 regulars and volunteers to the invaders. But, after the garrisons had been absorbed, the forces which covered the frontier of France from Dunkirk to Basel on August 10, 1792, amounted to not more than 82,000 men. These forces were divided into three commands. The left, under Lafayette, covering the frontier from Dunkirk to Montmedy, was 43,000 strong. The mass of this, army was in three camps on the Flemish border, while a division

19.000     strong lay at Vaux near Sedan. The centre under Luckner,

17.000     strong, watched the roads which led into France by the Moselle. Its front extended from Montmedy to the Vosges, and its headquarters were at Metz. The Army of the Rhine under Biron composed the right wing; its duty was to close the passes near Landau and Bitsch, and the great gap between the Vosges and the Jura, known as the Gate of Burgundy. The Army of the Reserve (composed of the depots of cavalry regiments and infantry battalions and of the untrustworthy volunteers of 1792) was collected at Soissons; it was an unorganised rabble and lacked everything, even arms and clothing, since the govern­ment factories had completely broken down. It was indeed fortunate for France that the Army of the Reserve never had to be taken into action; and that the ill-concerted alliance of Austria and Prussia recoiled before accepting any real trial of strength.

On the side of the Allies it had been arranged during the month of February, that, in the event of hostilities breaking out, the Duke of Brunswick should take command of the allied army; and a plan of operations—which was subsequently in the main adopted—was then

sketched out. In accordance with this plan a Prussian army 42,000 strong had reached Coblenz by the 19th of July. There were also in the neighbourhood of Coblenz 5500 excellent Hessian troops. and 4500 emigres; but the emigres were untrustworthy. The Austrian arrange­ments were being hurried on as fast as was possible, considering their lack of administration. From the Netherlands Clerfayt had arrived with

15,000     men, and, Hohenlohe on the Rhine was concentrating 14,000. The total number thus available was some 81,000. There can be no doubt that these forces, if properly handled, should have been sufficient to brush aside any resistance that the, French could offer.

But the reason of the failure of the allied army was that there was not sufficient community of interest to overcome the hereditary jealousies of Austria and Prussia. The Allies had but one object in common, and that was to exclude each other from any part of the,plunder which they hoped for in Poland. The army suffered from these national jealousies; but it suffered also from the evil of a divided command. The Duke of Brunswick was naturally cautious and circumspect; he was always an admirer of France, and rather favoured liberal thought; moreover, he was growing old and had the caution of old age, and he had also a reputation to maintain. Moreover he had never taken part in great operations, and he had accepted the command against his will, at the desire of the King. His idea was that the Allies should at first, content themselves with occupying the chain of fortresses running from Nancy through Metz and Sedan to the Netherlands, and should then try to negotiate with the French. He was convinced that the occupation of this line of fortresses would place France at his mercy. Frederick William II was a man of a very different stamp; he was obstinate, impulsive, and. sanguine; he thoroughly believed in the Prussian army; and he was anxious to make a dash at Paris, and thus to relieve the King of France from a false position, and at the same time to increase his own reputation. Accordingly he used all his royal authority to overcome the hesitation of Brunswick.

But even this unfortunate want of unity at headquarters need not have been fatal if the army itself had been sound. The Prussian infantry was recruited either by the forced enlistment of serfs, or by deserters and loafers kidnapped all over Europe. But so strong was the Prussian discipline, and so good were the drill and manoeuvre, that the Prussian infantry was at all times formidable^ while the Prussian cavalry, owing to its intelligence, its hardness, and its mobility, was the first in Europe. The Prussian regimental officers were thoroughly trained in their work; the majority of them were well educated; all were of noble birth. The defects of the army lay in the other branches of the service. The artillery had even in the Seven Years’ War fallen short of the Austrian artillery, and the Prussian engineers had been notoriously inefficient. Neither of these services had moved with the times. Further, the staff of the army was bad; it had suffered from the

effects of too much routine, too little thought, and too long peace. The medical service was poverty-stricken, the sanitary servic'e did not exist. We must attribute the failure of the organisation to the fact that the training of Frederick had turned out machines, not men. There was no regular system of requisitions; the army consequently was weakened by a long transport train. The Austrian force was, as usual, handicapped by the fact that money and supplies were scarce, and that the generals had to take their orders from Vienna. The emigres were more of a hindrance than an aid; they had little organisation; the ranks of the regiments were full of gentlemen, who were individually brave, but collectively could not be relied on.

Instead of holding the fortresses of Ehrenbreitstein, Diisseldorf, and Wesel, and establishing a solid base on both sides of the Rhine, the Allies practically cut themselves adrift from Germany. The advance commenced on July SO. But they did not push on and take advantage of the initiative, and of the fact that the French could only oppose them by 19,000 troops at Sedan and 17,000 at Metz. The fatal conflict of ideas at headquarters paralysed all movements. The fall of Longwy on August 27, and of Verdun on September 2, opened the way to Paris. But much valuable time had been wasted; while the unseasonable weather, the damp, the insanitary conditions of the camps, and the lack of forethought on the part of the staff, sowed the seeds of disease and demoralisation throughout the army.

While the: Allies were taking a month to cover the distance from the Rhine to the Meuse, the result of the Brunswick manifesto was making itself felt over France. On August 10 Louis fled to the Assembly and the mob sacked the Tuileries; while on August 19 Lafayette, the Commander of the Army of the North, found that his conscience would not allow him to serve a country which was going to depose his King. So, after taking all precautions to place his army in the best possible state for resistance to the foe, he crossed the frontier and surrendered himself a prisoner to the Austrians. The same day Dumouriez, who was in command of a corps of the Army of the North at Maulde, received his nomination as Commander-in-chief of the Army of the North in Lafayette’s place. The Army of the Centre also underwent a change of command. Luckner had all through August taken no steps to check the invader. It was his fault that Longwy and Verdun were so ill-armed, ill-garrisoned, and ill-supplied that they were unable to hold out. On August 25 Servan, the War Minister, recalled Luckner and placed Kellermann, a brave soldier, but no strategist, at the head of the Army of the Centre.

Dumouriez, the new Commander of the Army of the North, had served in all grades of the service, and in most countries of Europe. He was the typical political and military adventurer; energetic,! quick­witted, and optimistic. He grasped the fact that if the monarchy was

to be saved the Allies must be checked at once. As Minister he had attempted to detach Prussia from the Austrian alliance. He now thought that the best way to break up the alliance and to check the advance was for the French to make a counter-stroke in the Netherlands. He hoped that, with his army on their right flank ready? to threaten their rear, and Kellermann at Metz on their left flank threatening their communications, the Allies would be forced to halt. But on receiving the news of the investment of Verdun Dumouriez at Sedan saw that there was not now time for his offensive plan to succeed. He decided, therefore, to occupy the forest of Argonne, a belt of hilly, wooded country, forty miles long by seven broad, which lies between the Aisne and the Aire. In those days, owing to the dense undergrowth, it was only penetrable at certain spots. By closing the main road between Clermont and St Menehould he would force the Prussians to go round by more circuitous routes, such as the pass at Grand Pre, or the clearing at Croix-aux-Bois. The Prussians committed the fatal mistake of failing to occupy the main Paris road, and also of neglecting to attack Dumouriez as he marched across their front on September 1 and 2. By September 3 Dumouriez held the Argonne, and Kellermann was marching up from Metz to reinforce him. The Allies accordingly had to turn Dumouriez'’ position. This they effected on September 14 by way of Croix-aux-Bois. On the morning of the 15th Dumouriez fell back south, in great disorder, and took up a position facing north at St Menehould, where after some hesitation Kellermann joined him on the 19th. If the Prussians had broken up their camp at Landres at once, and kept up contact with Dumouriez, they cduld have completely defeated him before he effected his junction with Kellermann. But they remained at Landres till the 18th, and it was not till the evening of the 19th that they came into contact with the French left.

On September 20 was fought the battle of Valmy. The French occupied a position on a ridge of hills with their backs to Germany; the Prussians attacked them with their backs to France. The Prussians gained some slight success early in the day; but the French artillery on the heights of Valmy and Mont Yvron was so well handled that the Prussian batteries could never silence it. Consequently Brunswick, seeing how heavily his columns suffered when they came within range of the French guns, refused to allow the attack to proceed. The Prussians had

34,000     engaged and lost 184 killed and wounded; the combined armies of Kellermann and Dumouriez were 52,000 strong, but of this number probably only 36,000 were actually opposed to the Prussians, since Dumouriez had to keep sufficient troops in hand in case the Austrians and emigres made a serious effort to force the pass of Les Islettes in his rear. The French loss was 700 killed and wounded. In view of the demoralisation of the Prussians on the evening of the 20th we cannot blame Brunswick for refusing to make a frontal attack on Valmy_s when

the Prussian artillery was unable to silence the French guns, and when such an attack would have exposed his columns to a severe enfilading fire from the guns of Mont Yvron. The result of the battle was that the Prussians, though demoralised, lay across the direct road which led to the French reserves at Chalons. Consequently, on the evening of the 20th Dumouriez ordered Kellermann to fall back. By the morning of the 21st the combined French force had taken up a strong position, extending from St Menehould to Dampierre-sur-Auve, whereby Du­mouriez threatened the Prussian left should they advance directly on Chalons, and at the same time covered the route to Chalons by Vitry-le- Franyois, and thus once again picked up. communication with his base.

Valmy taught the world that France was still a nation, and that the French army was still a force to be reckoned with. Whether the French troops would really have stood if the Prussians had charged home is hard to say. But once again we must emphasise the fact that at Valmy it was not the revolutionary troops, but the old royal army which won the day. The artillery which bore the brunt of the fight was the artillery of 1789, and Kellermann’s infantry, which stood firm round Valmy, was (save for two battalions of the volunteers of 1791) composed of regular regiments of the old Army of the North.

After September 20 there followed a pause. The Prussians were greatly disheartened by their ill-success; their organisation and discipline were daily getting worse, and -their ranks were greatly thinned by disease. On the other hand, the French troops were elated by their stand against the famous Prussian army; and two large camps of volunteers were forming, one at Chalons, the other at Auberive on the Suippe. Still the French troops could not be trusted to assume the offensive. Both sides therefore were glad to negotiate. Dumouriez was quick to see the growing friction between Austria and Prussia over the question of Ansbach and Baireuth, and over the scheme of indemnifying Austria at the expense of France. He pointed out to the King of Prussia that the lowering of the prestige of Austria was of vital importance to all the Powers of Europe. But greatly as he appreciated this argument, the King of Prussia, the defender of the Divine Bight of Kings, felt himself in honour bound to plead for his friend the King of France; he therefore demanded that Louis should be reestablished in the position held by him prior to the outbreak of August 10. On this point Dumouriez could but temporise, for he had been informed that the Convention on September 21 had declared France a Republic. Meanwhile the French commander had no easy task to perform. His strategic position was hardly sound; the Prussians blocked his main line of retreat on Paris; and, in addition to the strategic question, he had to face the arrogant jealousy of Kellermann and the suspicion of the soldiers, who failed to understand the intricacies of a waiting game.

But nevertheless day by day the French position was getting stronger.

Servan, the energetic War Minister, backed by the strong will of the imperious Danton, was doing good service, till on September 25 the anarchy in Paris forced him to tesignj He was succeeded by the in­competent self-seeking Pache, but not before he had placed enough material and men at the disposal of the generals in the field to have enabled them, if it had been necessary, to have seriously impeded, if not to have stopped any further advance of the Allies* Dumouriez himself took energetic measures; he ordered the country on the direct road to Paris to be devastated, the women and children to be sent behind the Marne, and the men formed into guerilla bands. The streams of volunteers which flowed into his camp from Chalons were tested, and if found lacking in discipline and equipment were promptly sent back. Every effort was made to induce the Prussian troops to desert. Yet as the days passed the French army round St Menehould became despondent; food and supplies of all sorts were scarce, and the fact that the Prussians were worse off hardly alleviated the pangs of hunger. Affairs seemed grave indeed when on September 29 the armistice ended; but on the 80th the Prussians started fresh negotiations. They had hitherto been duped by Dumouriez; it was now their turn to take their revenge.

The French negotiators were Westermann and Benoit, commissioners from the Convention, but deeply impregnated with the views of Dumouriez. The Prussian envoys were Lucchesirii and Kalkreuth. They had been sent, mainly at the desire of Brunswick, with a view to temporising while he withdrew the allied army from a very critical position. Disease had reduced the Allies to 17,000 effectives ; it had become absolutely necessary to retreat. The only possible line of retreat was the way by which they had advanced, and this was only practicable if they could traverse the Aisne, and the defiles of the Argonne, without being pressed by the French. The retreat commenced on September 30, and on October 7 the Allies had crossed the Meuse at Vilosnes. The weather throughout had been terrible, but fortunately the French had remained inactive. The commissioners and Dumouriez had great hopes of detaching Prussia from the Austrian alliance, and had secretly promised not to attack the Prussians till they reached Verdun. It was not till October 5 that Kellermann was allowed to take up the pursuit with

25,000     men, while Dillon was told to press on through Les Islettes after Hohenlohe-Kirchberg’s Austrians. Brunswick had originally intended to hold the line of the Meuse, but on October 8 he heard that a column from the French Army of the Rhine had reached Speier and was threatening his retreat. Accordingly he was glad to enter into nego­tiations with Kellermann, whereby operations were virtually suspended. On October 14 the Prussians evacuated Verdun, and on the 22nd Longwy, and recrossed the frontier with 10,000 effectives, and 20,000 sick out of the force of 42,000 which had entered France two months before.

Dumouriez has been very severely criticised for his share in these

operations. Military opinion under tbe influence of Jomini holds that he ought to have attacked the Prussians during their retreat in the defiles of the Argonne; that he could easily have annihilated them, owing to the number of the sick and their lack of moral, and that such a blow would have automatically cleared the Austrians out of the Netherlands and ended the war. But we must remember that Dumouriez never really grasped the terrible condition of the Prussian army; that his own force could scarcely be relied on; and that his one desire was to clear France of the invaders and to do so without risking the prestige of his raw and ill-disciplined army. Moreover Dumouriez’ negotiations undoubtedly led up to the final dissolution of the Austro-Prussian alliance at the Treaty of Basel in February, 1795.

At the commencement of August, 1792, the Army of the Rhine was composed of about 24,000 men, of whom two-thirds were volunteers. It was holding a long line from opposite Basel to Landau, where it picked up connexion with the outposts of the Army of the Centre. The commander-in-chief was Biron, an old soldier, with plenty of military experience and of tried courage, but fatally lacking in determi­nation. In this quarter there was no immediate danger. The small German States remained neutral. In the towns the doctrine of the Rights of Man was regarded as the advent of the Millennium; but in the country districts it was not understood. The only States which were really hostile to the French were the ecclesiastical principalities of Cologne, Trier, and Mainz; but these States were not formidable. Still Biron had a very hard task to perform. As little danger was expected, his command was neglected: the fortresses were on the whole well equipped, but otherwise his army was starved, and merely regarded as a training school for the volunteers. His staff, always miserably small, was constantly being reduced and changed by calls made upon it by the Armies of the Centre and the North. When Kellermann was hastily summoned to take command of Luckner’s corps at Metz, Lieutenant- General Custine became Biron’s chief adviser. Custine had seen service in America; he was convinced that he was a sort of Admirable Crichton, financier, orator, diplomat, and general, while in fact he was only a dashing cavalry officer with an excellent physique and an extraordinary appetite for work. On September 19 he was given command of a new corps called the Armv of the Vosges, formed out of the divisions which were encamped round Weissenburg.

The object of this redistribution was to enable the French to make a diversion in Brunswick’s rear. Dumouriez strongly advocated an attempt to cut the Prussian communications at Verdun; but Biron settled that Custine should make a raid on Speier, which was practically the base of the Austrian forces, and only 18 miles from the French fortress of Landau. On September 30, with practically no opposition, Custine took Speier, and on October 5 detachments of his army occupied

Worms and secured the crossing of the Rhine by seizing Philippsburg, The consternation in Germany was widespread. Baden, Mainz, and Hesse-Darmstadt were in convulsions of terror, and the Empire resolved to call out its troops. Even Custine’s hasty evacuation of Speier and Worms on October 10, on the reported approach of an Austrian column, did not undeceive the Germans. On October 12 Custine heard for the first time of the check of the Prussians in the Argonne. He at once reoccupied Speier and Worms. He had already learned that the important fortress of Mainz was ill-defended, and that there were divi­sions among the inhabitants: and a strong French party in the town composed of philosophers and so-called Liberals had made overtures to him. Accordingly he appeared before the fortress on October 19, and had the satisfaction of receiving its surrender on the 21st. If he had been a wise man Custine would now have pushed on down the Rhine, seized Coblenz, and seriously menaced the retreating Prussians. But he had conceived the idea of invading Germany* although he had only had 13,000 men with him at Mainz. Frankfort capitulated to a small column under Houchard, and the French success seemed complete. But, in spite of the acclamations of certain sections of the people, the mass of the Germans had but little love for the new French ideas; while Custine’s heavy exactions, which had the one merit that they fell on rich and poor alike, soon caused the French to be loathed throughout the captured districts. The Army of the Rhine did much to disillusion the Germans of those grandiose ideas of French liberty and the Rights of Man which the admirers of the Revolution had striven to inculcate.

Meanwhile on October 24 the Prussians heard at Luxemburg of the fall of Mainz. Accordingly Brunswick at once ordered the army to fall back to secure its retreat. On the 25th the advanced guard reached Coblenz; once there, the Prussians were fairly secure. Good strategy now demanded that, after making sure of the bridge-heads at Coblenz and Ehrenbreitstein, the Prussians should have moved up the left bank of the Rhine and threatened Custine’s position by occupying Bingen. But disease had so shattered his forces that Brunswick was forced to cross the river at Coblenz, and put his army into hospital at Montabaur, By the middle of November the Allies were once again ready to take the field; and Custine, who had been reinforced by 15,000 men drawn from the garrisons of Alsace, was at last given an opportunity of showing his generalship. The French commander was very short of cavalry ; his troops were mainly composed of volunteers; he had also to find garrisons for Mainz, Frankfort, Worms, Oppenheim, Bingen, and Kreuznach. He ought accordingly to have evacuated the right bank of the Rhine; instead of which he took up a defensive position behind the Nidda. This position did not really cover Frankfort, and the Prussians had simply to march round his flank to seize the town, which was weakly garrisoned and surrendered on December 2. Custine thereon fell back on Mainz.

On January 1,1793, new life was given to the French army by the arrival of three commissioners from the Convention, Rewbell, Merlin of Thionville, and Haussmann. The Army of the Rhine was now 45,000 strong, composed of 22,000 troops concentrated at Mainz, and 23,000 divided along a line, Oppenheim—Speier—Kreuznach. Meanwhile the Allies were also greatly encouraged; Coburg was making his presence felt in the Netherlands; and a French expedition under Beurnonville had been repulsed near Trier on December 17 by a small force of Austrians. But, instead of occupying Bingen and thus threatening the French retreat, Brunswick determined to try to envelope Custine. Kalkreuth was to work round by the Moselle, and Wurmser was to operate from Mannheim. It was not till March 21 that the Prussians actually made themselves felt on the French left, and crossed the Rhine at Bacharach, while on March 26 the French right was also defeated. Custine thereon determined to fall back. After burning his stores he evacuated Worms and Speier, and arrived at Landau on April 1. The attempted invasion of the Electorates had undoubtedly proved a failure; and Custine’s system of requisitions had entirely shattered the growing French party among the Rhine States.

During the Valmy campaign the French force watching the frontier in the Low Countries had been reduced to some 9000 men. But the Austrians under the Duke of Saxe-Teschen failed in their only venture, the siege of Lille. On October 5 Dumouriez handed over the pursuit of the Prussians to Kellermann, and proceeded to Paris to renew his arrangements for the invasion of the Austrian Netherlands, which he had been compelled to abandon at the commencement of September. Both Dumouriez and the Ministers of the Convention were of opinion that Prussia was on the eve of abandoning Austria, and they thought that the seizure of the Netherlands would be received with enthusiasm by France as the completion of the old ideal of the “ natural boundaries.” The Provinces themselves seemed to desire nothing better than the substitution of French for Austrian rule. In all the Provinces there was a bitter anti-Austrian party which owed its origin to the ill-directed attempts of Joseph II to centralise and unify his dominions. This party was twofold. One section, the Statists, led by van der Noot, desired to retain the Catholic religion and all the ancient liberties and anomalies of the various Provinces: the other section, the Republican party, called Vonckists, was full of enthusiasm for the ideas of the Rights of Man, and above all things desired a revolution on the lines of that of France. The French Government was quite aware of the strong anti-Austrian feeling in the Netherlands, but it did not grasp the fact that above all things, above liberty, glory, and the rights of man, the people of these Provinces loved their old institutions.

On October 12 Dumouriez, who for the moment had captivated the Jacobin party and was strong in the support of Danton, carried the

Assembly with him in his plans for the invasion of Belgium. Tour columns were ordered to proceed to the Belgian frontier. The centre or main column—Dumouriez’ Army of the Argonne^—was to concentrate at Valenciennes; its duty was to seize MonS. Meanwhile a column on the right under Valence—known as the Army of the Ardennes—based on Givet, was, with the aid of a column under d’Harville from Maubeuge, to distract attention by moving on Namur. The fourth column, on the left, under Labourdonnaye, composed of volunteers from the camp of Chalons, was to feint northwards and if possible seize Tournai, Courtrai, and Ghent. To oppose these four corps, the Austrians under Saxe- Teschen numbered in all 25,000. But individually the Austrian troops were superior to the French, and they had a great advantage in their mag­nificent cavaliy. The French forces were largely composed of volunteers, who had more zeal than experience; but; worst of all, the French Commis­sariat and Ordnance Department completely broke down. This was the fault of the new War Minister, Pache. Pache was a good subaltern, a hard worker, but a man of mediocre ability and extremely greedy of power, and he desired to turn the War Office into a Jacobin Committee. He hated Dumouriez, and dismissed everybody who was known as one of Dumouriez’ men. On November 5 Pache instituted a new board known as the Dvrectoire des Achats, composed of the Ministers of War, the Navy, and the Interior; this board was to have sole control of purchasing supplies of all sorts. When it came into operation on January 1, 1793, it inaugurated its rule by a series of frauds and monopolies which exceeded anything heard of under the old regime. Meanwhile, the Commissariat Department was thrown completely out of gear; for Pache dismissed from his post as Commissary-General Doumerc, who had performed wonders in the way of organisation and forwarding of supplies during the Valmy campaign. Later in November he arrested Malus, Dumouriez’ commissariat Staff-officer.

Thus handicapped, Dumouriez started his campaign by issuing pro­clamations to the Belgians, narrating the oppression of the Austrians and the good intentions of the French. Estimating his troops at their true worth, he saw that his only chance was to avoid a war of sieges and to trust to a rapid forward movement. Accordingly he advanced against Saxe-Teschen, who had weakened his force by attempting to hold the line of Namur— Charleroi—Mons-r-Menin. The Austrians, 13,200 strong, occupied a strong position on the hills near Jemappes, and thus covered Mons from the north. Dumouriez, reinforced by d’Harville, determined to force the Austrians from this position on November 6. His plan was to make an attack all along the line, but especially to attempt to pierce the Austrian left between Jemappes and Cuesmes. D’Harville was to act with a detached force on the extreme right, and to try and push round Mons and thus to intercept the Austrian retreat. There was great unsteadiness, in all the French columns; and the success

of the attack was mainly due to the fact that the right column near Cuesmes found some boats and was thus enabled to cross the Trouille and appear on the Austrian rear. Up to this time the Austrians had fought well and their cavalry had been used with great effect, but now they hurriedly evacuated their position. The Austrian commander did not attempt to hold Mons, but fell back on Brussels. The retreat was not interfered with, as d’Harville lacked nerve, while Dumouriez’ force was too tired and disorganised to take up the pursuit. The Austrians in this battle lost 4000 killed, wounded, and deserters, out of a total of 13,200. The French success was entirely due to their overwhelming numbers and the energy and courage displayed by Dumouriez, Thouvenot, the Due de Chartres, and other general officers. The old battalions of the regular army fought well, and three battalions of volunteers of 1791 showed considerable pluck and pertinacity. The artillery, which outweighed the Austrian by 100 guns to 50, was used with great dexterity; but the volunteers again and again refused to advance to the attack, and, when they had been induced to do so, broke at the first sign of resistance.

The victory of Jemappes dazzled the whole French nation; the shortcomings of the volunteers, Dumouriez’ mistakes in strategy and tactics, all were forgotten in the outburst of enthusiasm which greeted the first real victory of the Republican arms in the field. Europe also was thunderstruck by the amazing vitality of France. In the Nether­lands the immediate effects of the battle were far-reaching. Mons threw open its gates to Dumouriez on November 7. On November 8 the Austrian government hurriedly fled from Brussels, and Saxe-Teschen with the main Austrian force fell back towards Liege. On the 14th Dumouriez entered Brussels, where the French were enthusiastically received. The pursuit was vigorously continued; and by November 28 the Austrians had evacuated the Netherlands, and the French held Liege. Meanwhile Dumouriez had despatched columns in all direc­tions. Ypres, Fumes, Nieuport, and Bruges, surrendered to one column; Tournai, Ghent, and Antwerp, to another; Charleroi and Namur to a third. Dumouriez has been blamed for not concentrating his forces and attempting to surround and annihilate the main Austrian army under Clerfayt; but his reason was that he had no supplies. Pache had upset all his commissariat arrangements. By December 13 Dumouriez’ advance guard had reached Cleves; but Beumonville, on December 24, was repulsed in his operations along the Moselle; and Custine at the end of December was falling back before the Prussians. It was time therefore for Dumouriez’ army to halt, for it was in a very bad way. The commissariat practically did not exist; but, worst of all, the defects of the volunteer regulations of 1791 were being felt to the full, and the army in the Netherlands, which at the end of October had numbered some 100,000, was at the end of December reduced to 45,000.

In Belgium itself trouble was now brewing.! The people of the Netherlands had been delighted to be freed from the Austrians; but they had no love of republican institutions, and they desired their old provincial administration. Moreover, the French soldiers were showing their hereditary plundering instincts and their lack of discipline; while the heavy and unexpected exactions, which had to be enforced owing to the failure of the commissariat, increased the friction between the civilian population and the army. But the finishing touch came from Paris, where the Assembly on December 15, at the instigation of Cambon, passed a decree that in all territories occupied by French troops the new French Revolutionary institutions should be established. The Belgian people were furious when they understood the effect of this decree. The result was that Statist delegates were everywhere elected for the Convention which was to settle the government of the country. But the French paid no heed to the desires of the people. On January 26, 1793, Danton incorporated the Belgian troops in the French army; and after January 31 the only government in the country was that of the French generals, assisted by national Commissioners from Paris, who proceeded to use the army to force the Belgians to vote for incorporation.

Such was the state of affairs in Belgium when on February 1 France declared war on England and Holland, and followed it up in March by hurling her ultimatum at Spain. The propagandist decrees had entirely altered the aspect of European politics, and the war against France now became a matter of principle. Every government in Europe was directly threatened; no crown for the future was safe. Moreover, the execution of Louis on January 21 added to the general alarm. England saw her naval position threatened by the occupation of AntWerp and the opening of the Scheldt; while the Dutch Republic knew that the French government, so early as December, 1792, had meditated an invasion of her territories. To meet the situation, the Committee of General Defence decided that the French forces on the frontier were to be grouped as follows. The Army of Belgium, 62,000 strong, was to be directed against Holland and Cleves; the Army of the Moselle, 62,000, was to lay siege to Coblenz; the Army of the Rhine, 62,000, was to commence operations in Swabia; while a reserve of 25,000 was to be concentrated at CMlons. The total armed force of France was to be 502,800 men, of whom 53,000 were cavalry and 20,000 artillery. Meanwhile, during January, the War Office was reorganised. This reorganisation had the advantage of increasing the responsibility of the heads of the departments, and at the same time of giving the War Minister expert advisers, while leaving him responsible for the whole of the administration. But it tended to increase friction between departments and to add to departmental jealousies.

Dumouriez’ original plan for the invasion of Holland was that he

himself should take Maestricht, while Miranda laid siege to Venloo; and that the two armies should then concentrate and march on Nymegen, the key of Holland. But the Prussians were too quick for him, and on February 9 they managed to throw a body of troops into Maestricht. Dumouriez therefore determined that Miranda should lay siege to Maestricht, while he himself, masking the fortresses west of the Rhine, should cross the sea at Mondyck and land at Dordrecht, and thus turn all the eastern defences of Holland and push straight on to Amsterdam before the Dutch had time to mobilise. The arrangements of this campaign were considerably facilitated by the fact that once ag^> he had Malus as Commissary-General-in-Chief in Belgium, while men of his own training like Thouvenot were on his staff. On February 16 the expeditionary force, composed of 1000 cavalry, 15,000 infantry (all but three battalions being volunteers), and 40 guns, crossed the frontier. On February 26 Breda capitulated, and on March 1 Gertruydenberg.

On the whole the Netherlander south of the Rhine were glad to receive the French. But on March 2 disasters began. Miranda, who with 23,000 men was still lying before Maestricht, heard that the Austrians had crossed the Roer and were pressing forward. Austria had now a new directing hand, as Count Philip Cobenzl had been succeeded as foreign Minister by Thugut. Thugut’s hostility to France had begun when he was Minister at Constantinople; and it was increased by his horror at recent events. The allied generals held a conference at Frankfort early in February, 1793, when it was decided that the new Austrian Commander, Prince Frederick of Saxe- Coburg-Saalfeld, should at once proceed with 40,000 men to the relief of Maestricht. After relieving Maestricht, he was to send a large detach­ment to aid Brunswick who was to besiege Mainz; while Wurmser with another Austrian army should cross the Rhine between Basel and Mann­heim, and Hohenlohe-Kirchberg should guard Trier and Luxemburg. On March 1 Coburg, with 40,000 Austrians, crossed the Roer, and surprised the French advanced guard which was scattered in cantonments behind that river. The French army had no horses for its transport; clothing and supplies were deficient; and most of the corps were full of raw recruits. In the first action on March 1 the French lost 16 guns, 300 prisoners, and 2000 killed and wounded, while the Austrians’ loss was some 40. This was entirely due to the good handling of the Austrian cavalry, and it had the effect of greatly dispiriting the raw French levies. On March 3 Miranda raised the siege of Maestricht and retreated by the roads leading to Diest and Louvain. On March 5 he effected a junction with Valence at Saint-Trond; and took up a defensive position. His right was at Malines, his centre at Louvain, and his left behind the Dyle.

Coburg should have pushed on at once and taken advantage of the evident demoralisation of the enemy. His inaction gave the Frencl a chance. On March 8 the Convention declared the country in danger

and called for fresh volunteers, and at the same time recalled Dumouriez from Holland. Dumouriez left his expeditionary force under du Flers in Holland, hoping, after he himself had defeated the Austrians, to return and carry out his plan of invasion. But, when Dumouriez left, the expeditionary force quickly became demoralised. Meanwhile Holland was arming and England preparing to ship troops and guns. Conse­quently on March 15 du Flers fell back behind the Scheldt.

The state of affairs in Belgium came as a complete surprise to Du­mouriez ; the French army was disorganised and panic-stricken, and the population of Belgium on the verge of revolt. Ou his arrival at Brussels on March 10 Dumouriez at once issued three proclamations which greatly restored public confidence. First he passed a severe censure on the national Commissioners; then he invited the magistrates to lay their complaints before him; and lastly he dissolved all the Jacobin clubs. He then proceeded on March 11 to Louvain; and, after taking up his command there, he wrote on March 12 his famous letter to the Con­vention, justifying his conduct by pointing out that the situation in Belgium arose owing to the avarice and injustice of the national Com­missioners. Meanwhile the soldiers were delighted at the return of their old chief. Dumouriez set to work to restore discipline. His first object was to send away from his camp those battalions which were completely untrustworthy. He then proceeded to call up the best battalions from Brussels to take their place. Dumouriez had no idea of assuming a passive defence; he decided to take the initiative. He thought that the country, intersected as it was by streams and ditches, was not favourable to the Austrian cavalry; and he knew that at the moment Coburg had weakened himself by sending detachments to Beaulieu at Luxemburg and Hohenlohe-Kirchberg at Trier. Moreover he hoped to fight a suc­cessful engagement before the Dutch and Hanoverian troops could cross to the assistance of their allies. But Coburg had awakened to the fact that Dumouriez was doing wonders, and that France was making des­perate efforts to reinforce him. He also decided to take the initiative and not to await his allies. On March 16 the Austrians attempted to get round the French right at Tirlemont, but were driven back. Dumouriez spent the 17th in reconnoitring. The Austrians who had withdrawn to the right bank of the Little Geete occupied the line of hills running from Racour to Leau.

Dumouriez’ plan was to use his left as a pivot and swing round his whole line on the Austrian left. The battle commenced at 7 a.m. on the morning of March 18. The Austrians were at first surprised by the French right. But unfortunately for the French their right did not extend far enough to outflank the Austrians posted in Landen; hence the French right attack developed into a frontal attack on Overwinden which lasted all day. At nightfall the Austrians under Clerfayt had only just succeeded in driving the French back. In the centre Neerwinden

was taken and lost and taken again; but the French could not make good their hold on it, since it was commanded by Coburg’s batteries on the hill above. When night fell, Neerwinden was still in the hands of the Austrians. The French right and centre had consequently received a severe check; but on the left matters had gone still worse. At first the French made good the crossing; but the Austrians, by a series of successful cavalry charges, sent the volunteers flying. By nightfall the whole of the French left was in flight behind the Little Geete. On the morning of the 19th panic had begun to spread; so on that evening Dumouriez fell back on Cumptich. Coburg, who had only lost 3000 in the action, did not pursue Dumouriez, and once again threw away a golden opportunity.

Though the loss of the battle of Neerwinden was due in a great part to Miranda and the volunteers, Dumouriez also made glaring mistakes. He had failed to concentrate his forces properly; he had not called in d’Harville from Namur, or the Army of Holland; and he had thus thrown away the opportunity of collecting 70,000 troops and providing himself with a force nearly double that of his enemy. On March 23 negotiations were opened between Coburg and Dumouriez, and an agreement was made whereby Coburg, who had not grasped the utter demoralisation of the French, promised not to attack: while the French on their side agreed to evacuate Brussels, which they did on March 24, to the great delight of the populace.

So early as March 12 Dumouriez had notified his discontent to the Convention. His hatred of the Republic dated back to his quarrels with Pache, Cambon, Marat, and the Commissioners in Belgium. At one moment he had dreamed of restoring the Bourbons after a successful campaign against Austria; later he had hoped to conquer Belgium and Holland and mould them into a Republic, of which he should be dictator, and with whose armies he might return and restore the monarchy. He now saw that his defeat at Neerwinden meant the certain victory of his enemies, the Jacobins; and he determined now to make an arrangement with the Austrians whereby he might, either by their aid or without it, declare war on the Jacobins of Paris. Meanwhile, on March 25, Mack arrived from the Austrian headquarters. It was arranged, firstly, that the French troops should be allowed peaceably to evacuate Holland; and secondly, that Dumouriez should withdraw all French troops across the frontier of the Netherlands by March 30. Accordingly on March 31 the French troops were all on their own side of the frontier. There was great excitement at Paris. Immediately after Neerwinden the Comite de Defense Generale had been reconstructed and its membership in- . creased to twenty-five. Every day brought fresh news of Dumouriez’ intrigues with the Austrians. Hence on March 30 the Committee determined to despatch a commission of five, together with Beumonville, the War Minister, to proceed to the front and make enquiries on the

spot. When this commission arrived at St-Amand late on the evening of April 1 Dumouriez promptly handed the members over to the Aus­trian outposts. He spent the next four days in attempting to get the whole army to join him and go over to the Austrians, and also in making arrangements to surrender Douai. Such was his popularity with the old soldiers of Valmy and Jemappes that the mass of the regular infantry and cavalry were ready to obey his orders. The artillery, however, and the volunteers, were too deeply saturated with Republican ideas to follow Dumouriez against the Jacobin government of France. This was the death-blow to Dumouriez’ schemes; for on hearing of the decision of the artillery the line declared that it would never fight its brothers. Conse­quently he could only take over to the Austrians on April 5 a handful of hussars and his own staff, comprising three Lieutenant-Generals, Valence, Marasse, and Chartres, eight Major-Generals, one Colonel, and two Commissioners of War. Thus, like Lafayette, Dumouriez put his own honour before that of his country. But he had already done much for France. In diplomacy he had foreshadowed the policy which resulted in the Treaty of Basel; as a general he had understood how best in times of revolution to play upon the sentiment of the French soldier and make every use of the national traits of character; while as a strategist he was the forerunner of Napoleon in the art of offensive warfare.

During the early part of the year 1793 the French arms had been as ursuccessful in the Rhine Valley as in the Netherlands; while the French administration had become equally unpopular in both. So early as December 18 Custine had declared Mainz to be in a state of siege; and on December 31 all hopes of a native administration disappeared on the arrival of the three Deputies on mission from the Convention, Merlin of Thionville, Haussmann, and Rewbell. By the end of January, 1793, Mainz and the surrounding districts on the left bank of the Rhine had passed from a state of indifference, or sympathetic curiosity, to one of active hatred and hostility to the French. In spite of this on February 14 the Convention in Paris proclaimed the annexation of Mainz to France. Later in February elections for a Rhenish National Assembly were carried on under the supervision of the military authorities, with the result that on March 21 the Rhenish Convention was forced at the point of the bayonet to vote for annexation to France. Such was the state of affairs when, as we have seen, on March 27 Custine had to abandon his attempt to cover Mainz and to fall back on Landau. Custine entrusted the defence of Mainz to d’Oyse, an engineer officer who had served in America. The garrison of Mainz was composed of 23,000 troops. This force was not excessive, considering that many of the volunteers were married men and refused to take any risks, and further that the populace during the greater part of the siege had to be kept severely under military control. Mainz itself was well provisioned with ammunition,

stores, and food supplies; and it was expected to be able to hold out till the middle of September.

The actual investment did not take place till April 14; and it was not till June 5 that the Prussians opened their heavy batteries on Castel and the French advanced posts on the islands. By July 17 the bombard­ment had been so severe that d’Oys^ called a council of war to consider the situation. At this council the officer commanding the engineers clearly told hi™ that it was impossible to make headway against the bombardment. The magazines were either exploded or empty. More­over, the moral of the troops was quickly deteriorating; they were no longer anxious to take part in sorties. D’Oys<* still desired to hold out; but his hand was forced by the three representatives, who, it is true, had done good work during the siege, but who now thought that the only way to save themselves from a long imprisonment in Germany was to capitulate on favourable terms. Negotiations were accordingly opened on July 18, and on July 23 the Prussian terms were accepted. The French garrison was to march out with the honours of war on condition of not serving against the Allies for one year; while Mainz with all its cannon and equipment was to fall a prize to the Prussians. Undoubtedly Mainz ought to have held out for at least another month. Accordingly the Convention refused to accept the terms of the surrender, and ordered all the officers of the headquarter’s staff of the Mainz garrison to proceed to Paris for trial. The Convention held such an example to be necessary at the moment when the fortresses on the north-east frontier of France were being invested, and the French troops in the south were retreating before the Spaniards on Perpignan and Bayonne.

When Custine fell back on Landau at the end of March he was in deep dejection; the Austrian and Prussian forces were overwhelming in numbers, and his own army was disorganised; it seemed as if he would have to evacuate the whole of Alsace. But fortunately for him the Austrians and Prussians did not pursue. The shadow of the impending partition of Poland and of the Treaty of St Petersburg lay between them, and prevented them from concentrating their efforts against the French. During April the main Austrian force under Wurmser lay watching Landau; the Prussians under Brunswick had their headquarters at Edenkoben, while an Austrian corps under Hohenlohe-Kirchberg lay overawing Zweibriicken. Mainz was thus securely covered. In the middle of May Custine was transferred from the command of the com­bined Army of the Rhine and the Moselle to that of the Army of the North and the Ardennes. But before relinquishing his command he had repaired the fortifications on the lines of Weissenburg, and strengthened the important fortress of Bitsch, which commanded the main pass across the Vosges. He had also made sure of the subsidiary passes, so that his communications with the Army of the Moselle were secured.

During the month of June the strength of the French armies

424  Houchard.—Beauharnais.—Bouchotte. [1793

increased; on June 27, when the generals held a conference, the Army of the Moselle under Houchard was 40,000 strong, and that of the Rhine under Beauharnais 60,000 strong. But, though their numbers were great, both armies were untrustworthy, as they were full of raw, untrained troops; and no move was made till the middle of July. By this time Wurmser blocked the advance of the Army of the Rhine, lying between the mountains and the river at Edenkoben; while Brunswick with

18,000     men lay at Kaiserslautern, covering the passes there and ready, if necessary, to move to Kreuznach. Beauharnais, in the middle of July, crossed the Queis, and, moving slowly forward in touch with the Army of the Moselle, attacked Wurmser on July 19, and forced him on the night of the 24th to evacuate Edenkoben, and thus leave the road open to Neustadt, whereby the communications between the Austrians and the Prussians were for the moment cut. Meanwhile Houchard had started on July 16 from Saarbriicken; but his advance had been very slow. When the news of the capitulation of Mainz was received, both the French armies halted, and then fell back. At this moment the position of the French in Alsace was seriously compromised. Houchard was withdrawn to succeed Custine in the command of the Army of the North ; and 30,000 men were drafted from the Armies of the Rhine and the Moselle to reinforce the Army of the North. On August 10 came the decree of the Convention whereby all officers of noble birth were cashiered, with the result that the staffs of the armies had to be entirely reorganised.

This decree was the work of the War Minister Bouchotte, who had succeeded Beumonville in the beginning of April. Bouchotte was above all things a Jacobin; his principal ally was Vincent; he filled all places in the War Office with Jacobins. But his positive work must not be forgotten, and the difficulties of his position must be appreciated. He had five great armies to provide for. He was, moreover, handicapped by the fact that he lacked prestige, and had not sufficient authority to carry out his orders. He was simply the servant of the Committee of Public Safety, from which he had to take all his orders. The Committee kept an actual control over the various generals by means of its Commissioners, or Representatives on Mission. The powers of these Commissioners were very large; they could choose what agents they pleased; they could seize for the public service any goods or chattels which they considered necessary; they had power if necessary to super­sede the general in command of the troops; and all administrative and municipal bodies had to obey them. As might be expected, the Com­missioners, who knew little of war, made many mistakes; but they made up for this by their courage, zeal, and patriotism. Moreover, they did much during the summer of 1793 to reconcile the regulars and the volunteers. They insisted on the abandonment of the old white uniform of the regulars, and the adoption by all troops of the new Republican

1793] Dissensions between Austrian and Prussian armies. 425

blue uniforms. During the constant changes of generals and staff officers the Commissioners supplied the only continuity of ideas and aims in the various armies, and undoubtedly gave great assistance to those military authorities who were hastily placed in commands which were absolutely new to them.

After the French retreat on Weissenburg Wurmser proposed to Brunswick that he should help him to envelope that position, while Hohenlohe threatened Bitsch, and that, after crushing the French army, the combined Austrian and Prussian armies should advance on Strassburg. But Brunswick refused. Now that Mainz had fallen, Lucchesini, the Prussian Foreign Minister, wanted peace and an oppor­tunity to study the Polish problem. Further, it had become evident that the Austrian plan was to overrun Alsace with a view to annexing it permanently to the Austrian dominions. The Army of the Moselle lay at Brunswick’s mercy, but he made no attempt to annihilate it. Meanwhile Wurmser, a dashing officer—in spite of his sixty-nine years—decided to push on after the Army of the Rhine. By August 24 he had driven the French back from their advanced position in the Bienwald on to the lines of Weissenburg. The Commissioners thereon deprived Beauharnais of his command. Beauharnais was succeeded by Landremont, who in turn was succeeded by Carlens; but both of these generals were mere nonentities, and the real command lay in the hands of the Commissioners. The French were very strongly posted along the lines of Weissenburg; their right being untumable, lying as it did on Lauterburg and the Rhine, while their left rested on Weissenburg and the mountains. It was quite evident that, without concerted action with the Prussians, Wurmser with 30,000 Austrians would be unable to dislodge the Army of the Rhine, which was about 35,000 strong. It was not till October that Wurmser could get a promise of help from the Prussians. The plan of the Allies was that Wurmser should force the lines of Weissen­burg, while Brunswick should march down from Zweibriicken and occupy Bitsch and Worth. On October 13, in spite of faulty arrangements, Wurmser managed to penetrate the French lines. Meanwhile the Prussians had occupied Bitsch. The French fell back in great disorder; and by October 18 they had taken up a position under the guns of Strassburg. Fortunately for the French neither the Prussians nor the Austrians interfered with this retreat, although the Allies must have known that the French army had practically disbanded to plunder, and that it was incapable of making any sort of resistance. Wurmser thought he had already borne too much of the fighting; while Bruns­wick considered that his orders forbade him to go further south than Worth. Accordingly, although the French armies were now completely separated, Brunswick did not crush the Army of the Moselle, which was retreating behind the Saar; while Wurmser, instead of boldly attacking the French in front of Strassburg, contented himself with laying what

he considered would be the foundation of the new Austrian regime in Alsace. The result was that the inhabitants of Alsace forgot their dislike of the French in their hatred of the invaders; while the Prussians, seeing through the Austrian intentions, refused to move forward to Saveme and help Wurmser in his attempt to drive the Army of the Rhine into Tapper Alsace. Thus once again the French had been saved by the jealousies arising out of the different political aims of the Allies.

So far during the year 1793 the French had met with a succession of disasters. But fortune was now about to turn. The first Committee of Public Safety had made every effort to retrieve the disasters following on the desertion of Dumouriez; but, though it contained many able men, none of them had shown any great aptitude for military affairs. The second Committee of Public Safely which came into being on July 10 had also little military knowledge. However on August 14 it added to its members two special military members; these were two engineer officers, Prieur of the Cote d’Or, who was to be responsible for providing the material for war, and Carnot, who was to have complete authority over the personnel of the army. The first problem that the new members had to face was how to make the most of the levee en masse. On August 16 the Convention had decreed that the French people should rise to a man to defend their independence. This decree was followed on August 23 by a more emphatic order, which called out all men between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five for service at the front, while the aged and infirm were to be employed, if necessary, in transport, garrison, and hospital work at home. The municipal authorities had raised their quotas by drafting to the army all the maimed, the blind, and the halt, since everybody who could afford to do so had been allowed to purchase a substitute. Consequently the reinforcements which arrived at the frontier in August and September, if they actually did arrive, were generally worse than useless. Carnot, however, by October had compelled the local authorities to enforce his amendments to the law. Moreover, instead of forming fresh corps, he drafted the men who were requisitioned into the existing padres. One of his next duties was to take vigorous measures to reinforce discipline in the Army of the Rhine. On October 17 two Commissioners, Saint-Just and Le Bas, were despatched to Strassburg to report on the failure of the army to hold the lines of Weissenburg and to punish all abuses without pity.

The Commissioners found plenty of work to do. It was quite evident that the Army of the Rhine had suffered defeat firstly for lack of guidance, secondly for lack of discipline. They proceeded at once to rectify the first evil; they took the chief command out of the hands of the incompetent Carlens and sent for Pichegru. Pichegru was the first of the new race of young commanders who owed their position entirely to the Revolution. He had commenced his military career in 1789 by enlisting as a private in the artillery. In 1792 he had received his

commission, and late in that year became a colonel of volunteers. He had never yet seen a shot fired; but he had had the good fortune to impress Bouchotte, and had already commanded a corps on the Upper Rhine. His great merit was his power of penetration; he also possessed a power­ful personality which inspired the soldiers. Though he had no originality, he had that instinctive knowledge which could distinguish a good from a bad plan. But above all he could choose his men and make them work for him. The Commissioners, aided by Pichegru, proceeded to establish a military tribunal for the Army of the Rhine. This tribunal had power to deal summarily with all cases sent before it, and at once began to make examples of officers and private soldiers who either shirked their duties or were at all insubordinate. The next task of the Commissioners was to organise a proper system of requisition and to enforce the Law of the maximum. Thus the army was soon fully provisioned and all excuse for plundering was removed.

The Commissioners with the Army of the Moselle, Lacoste and Baudot, tried to imitate the reforms of Saint-Just and Le Bas but with little success. They were mere fanatics and lacked the instinctive know­ledge of what was necessary at the moment. But salvation came to the Army of the Moselle in another way. At the commencement of Novem­ber Delauney was succeeded in his command by Hoche. Lazare Hoche was the son of an old soldier. He was but 25 years old when he took over the command of the Army of the Moselle; his early youth had been spent as a groom in the royal stables; he had next served as a private in the Gardes Franchises; during the Revolutionary wars he had distin­guished himself at Maastricht, Nieuport, and Dunkirk. He had been in turn the friend of Servan, Marat, and Robespierre. Later he had attracted the attention of Carnot and owed his new command to him. Unlike Pichegru he had actually seen service, but like him he had practically had no training for high command; he had the additional misfortune that he was naturally despised by his enemies.

Hoche spent the first three weeks of November reorganising his army and restoring discipline by impartially striking down all offenders of whatsoever rank. Towards the end of November, thanks to reinforce­ments from the Army of the Rhine, Hoche had 40,000 troops under his command. Accordingly he determined at once to resume the offensive and make an attempt to relieve Landau. He ought undoubtedly to have worked in conjunction with Pichegru and driven the Allies back from Strassburg, by threatening their right in the direction of Worth and Bitsch. But he was jealous of Pichegru and decided to try and relieve Landau by way of Kaiserslautern. Operations commenced on November 17. The Prussians at once evacuated Worth, and, quickly concentrating, fell back fighting on Kaiserslautern. On November 28 the three days’ battle of Kaiserslautern began; the Prussians held a strongly entrenched position with 20,000 men, while Hoche attacked

428

Kaiserslautern.—Relief of Landau. [1793-4

them with 35,000 troops. The French infantry fought well and proved the value of Hoche’s new discipline. But the enemy was too strongly posted; and Hoche, who had not studied the ground, made his great effort against the Prussian right, which was really the strongest part of the position. On the 30th Hoche fell back after losing some 2000 men, while the Prussian loss was only 829. Meanwhile Pichegru, in spite of Hoche’s jealousy, had determined to make use of this opportunity. On November 18, with 33,000 troops, he had moved out and attacked Wurmser. The Austrian right was now uncovered by the withdrawal of the Prussians. Accordingly Wurmser fell back on Hagenau.

After Hoche’s defeat at Kaiserslautern the Prussians continued to hold the three roads leading to Landau by Kaiserslautern, Amweiler, and Dahme. Hoche therefore determined to leave a force to contain the Prussians at the passes and to go himself to help Pichegru with the remainder of the troops at his disposal. The first thing to be done was to pick up communication with Pichegru. After a week’s hard fighting on December 22 columns from the Annies of the Rhine and Moselle drove the enemy out of Worth and effected a junction. Wurmser at once fell back on the lines of Weissenburg. The jealousy between Hoche and Pichegru threatened to neutralise all the advantages that had hitherto been gained. But on December 24 Lacoste and Baudot, the Commissioners with the Army of the Moselle, appointed Hoche Com­mander-in-chief of the united Armies of the Rhine and the Moselle. Wurmser was preparing to evacuate Weissenburg on December 26 when Hoche attacked him with great fury. The result of this action was that by December 27 the French were once again masters of the lines of Weissenburg; while on December 30 Wurmser retreated across the Rhine at Philippsburg, and Brunswick himself evacuated Worms and Oppenheim. Landau was relieved; and early in January, 1794, the whole of the Palatinate was in the hands of the French. Hoche was desirous of continuing his success; but the cold weather and lack of provisions awoke the plundering spirit in his army. His quarrel with Pichegru to a certain extent also paralysed his actions, so that he had to put his army into cantonments for the rest of the winter.

In Flanders during the year 1793 fortune varied very much as it did in the Rhine valley. Dumouriez was succeeded by Dampierre, a bold and courageous executor of orders, but no originator, and apt to lose his head. Immediately on taking over the command Dampierre ordered the Army of the North to concentrate under the fortresses of Valen­ciennes, Douai, and Lille. His task was no light one. Every day the Austrians were being reinforced by Prussian, Hanoverian, English, and Dutch contingents; while his army was utterly disorganised and dispirited. The troops had lost all belief in their officers; nobody could tell who would be the next to desert. The infantry of the line and the artillery only required a little care and a tight hand; but the weakened cavalry

1793] Council at Antwerp.—Dampierre.—Lamarche. 429

regiments were absolutely untrustworthy; while the volunteers were constantly drunk, and the whole army was demoralised by the numbers of women who were in camp. Such was the only army which stood between the Allies and Paris. But Coburg was no Marlborough; he was now 56 years old, a quiet, modest soldier who never trusted his own judgment. His right hand man was Colonel Mack; but Mack’s ideas of strategy were not sound, as Ulm was to prove later, and he was hampered by the tact that the Emperor distrusted him.

On April 8 the Allies held a council at Antwerp. Austria was represented by Mettemich and Starhemberg; England by the Duke of York and Lord Auckland; Holland by the Prince of Orange; Prussia by Count Keller. Coburg, Mack, and Valence also attended. It was settled that Coburg should be commander-in-chief of the Allies. But the council did not separate before the policy of the dismemberment of France was openly announced. Lord Auckland, on behalf of England, declared that his country had entered on the war with the intention of getting compensation. Coburg and Mack attempted to show that any plan of dismemberment would retard the progress of the campaign. Their objections were bona fide, but it was only too well known what was the policy of the Emperor and Thugut, On April 9 the Allies had moved forward and cut off Conde from Valenciennes. Dampierre ought at once to have advanced from his camp at Bouchain, and attacked the Austrian force which was round Conde, since it was divided in two by the Scheldt. He missed his opportunity and simply moved to an en­trenched camp at Famars behind Valenciennes. When at last, on May 1, he did attack Coburg the Austrians had been strongly reinforced by a Prussian corps. Dampierre was killed in action on May 7. The Com­missioners at once appointed.Lamarche, who was sixty years of age, to succeed him; but Lamarche had no better success than Dampierre and contented himself with further fortifying the camp of Famars. Early in May two diversions were attempted; the one under Championnet in the direction of Fumes was meant to threaten Ostend; the other under Kilmaine in the direction of Namur ended in the barren victory of Arlon. But the Allies, who had now been reinforced by Dutch and Hanoverian troops, could afford to neglect such diversions, and on May 23 Coburg advanced against the main French force, enveloped it, and forced it out of its position at Famars. Thereupon Lamarche fell back on Bouchain, where he was succeeded by Custine.

Custine’s first idea was to concentrate the Armies of the North, the Moselle, and the Rhine, and to clear the Netherlands. But Bouchotte refused to give his consent to such a bold measure. Consequently Custine, having nothing but the Army of the North to work with, set himself to fortify Caesar’s camp with the intention of reorganising his army there. He drew up strict orders both for officers and men; he compelled all troops to wear their proper uniforms; he cashiered all

officers absent without leave; and he insisted on steady drill for four horn's a day. He decided, since it was impossible to recruit his army, to divide up the existing force into battalions 450 strong. He also set himself to train men as cavalry soldiers and to try to procure horses. He was so far successful that by July 18 he had 39,000 disciplined and organised troops under his command, of which number 4800 were cavalry. His indiscretion brought about his fall; for, although he publicly protested against the Girondists, yet in private he railed against Pache, Marat, Danton, and Robespierre. He was constantly quarrelling with Bouchotte. He fell foul of the Commissioners, Celliez and Dufrenne, and even went so far as to imprison theim Consequently on July 10—the day on which Conde fell—the Committee of Public Safety recalled Custine to Paris. Once there the hatred of the Jacobins and the fall of Mainz and Valen­ciennes settled his fate, and he was guillotined on August 28. Custine’s successor was Kilmaine, an Irishman, a distinguished cavalry officer; but he could do no more to relieve Valenciennes than Custine had done before him. Coburg now had 24,000 troops round Valenciennes engaged in the siege, and a covering force of 20,000, while he had

10,000     at his own headquarters. In July he was further reinforced by 15,000 Hessians. On July 26 the town and fortress surrendered. The fall of Mainz, Conde, and Valenciennes, came as a great blow to the whole of France; but the lesson had a very salutary effect. The Committee of Public Safety grasped two facts: first, that France must make a more national effort; and secondly that the war must be carried on by experts.    •

While France was preparing to arise with renewed vigour from her ashes, the Allies were courting their own doom. Austria at once claimed Conde and Valenciennes as her own special possessions; she hinted also that she desired to extend her frontier to the Somme and carry it up to Sedan. Thereupon the English, the Prussians, and the Dutch, each expressed a desire to set about securing the territories which they coveted. It was with difficulty that Coburg could induce the Allies to promise to remain with him till he had carried out his design of forcing the French from Caesar’s camp. Caesar’s camp was a strong position—the north face covered by the Senne, the east¹ by the Scheldt. The Allies were in overwhelming strength; and, after feinting at both the north and east sides Coburg had still enough troops to enable the Duke of York to turn the rear of the camp by way of Cambrai. But the movements of the Allies were so slow that on August 7 the French escaped behind the Scarpe, and entrenched themselves at Biache between Arras and Douai. There Kilmaine was succeeded by Houchard (August 9). Houchard was of foreign extraction and could speak but little French. He first saw service as an officer in the Seven Years’ War; he had later gained his laurels under Custine. He was no general, but a mere leader of partisans, who owed his position to the fact that he was a protegi of Bouchotte.

The position he had to face was a serious one. His army had been driven aside and was too weak to threaten the enemies’ communications. Conse­quently the road to Paris was open, and Coburg’s cavalry could have arrived there in four days. Moreover at this moment the English fleet held Toulon; Marseilles and Lyons had risen against the government; and the war in the Vendee was assuming serious proportions. But the greed of the Allies saved France. The English insisted on laying siege to Dunkirk; at the same moment Frederick William ordered the Prussian troops to move into Luxemburg.

By September Carnot’s strategy was beginning to shape itself. The French armies were no longer to be frittered away in detachments, but they were to be concentrated to deal crushing blows. The Army of the North numbered quite 100,000 men; and a subsidiary force, 30,000 strong, drawn mainly from the Army of the Moselle, was gathered at Soissons to save Paris from a raid. By September 5 the force to relieve Dunkirk had been got together and numbered 42,000 men. Carnot’s plan had been that Houchard should seize Fumes and thus cut the enemy from their base. But Houchard thought this too dangerous, and proposed to make a direct attack on the Hanoverian covering force at Bergues and Hondschoote. Owing to the swampy ground the force of Hanoverians under Marshal Freytag at Bergues was not in direct communication with the Duke of York’s force at Rosendal. Consequently, when the French heavy columns reached the Yser on September 6, Freytag could only oppose them with some 10,000 troops. But Houchard’s dispositions were so faulty and he kept so little touch between his different columns that at the end of the day the French had to fall back behind the Yser. On September 8 Walmoden, who had succeeded Freytag, gave battle to the French at Hondschoote with a force of 9000 infantry. Houchard only brought half his force into the field; but he so outnumbered the enemy that at nightfall he had driven them out of Hondschoote with a loss of 2585 men out of their 9000. As he did not advance, the Duke of York early on the morning of the 9th was enabled to make a hasty retreat to Fumes, and Dunkirk was thus relieved. It had never been in very great danger, as it had only been invested on one side, and the English fleet had never attempted to cooperate with the army. Meanwhile on September 11 Quesnoi had surrendered, and Coburg had proceeded to invest Maubeuge. Houchard, in spite of his victory at Hondschoote, found himself unable to utilise his success, and fell back on his camp at Arras, where on September 28 he was succeeded in command of the Army of the North by Jourdan.

Jourdan had served in America, but on his return had been obliged to give up his commission owing to Segur’s decree against the roturiers. On the outbreak of the revolutionary wars he had been chosen to com­mand a battalion of volunteers. The new commander’s task was to cover Paris and relieve Maubeuge. Maubeuge was strongly invested. Coburg

had surrounded the place with 25,000 men and maintained a covering force of 45,000 in an entrenched position. Maubeuge was the last fortress of the French barrier in the north-east, and its loss would have completely opened up the way to Paris. Every effort was therefore made to help Jourdan in his attempt to save it. On October 15 the relieving force, 50,000 strong, under Jourdan and Carnot attacked the Austrian covering force at Wattignies. The fight raged all that day and was most furious on the right, in front of the village of Wattignies, which was taken and lost three times. On the 17th the French expected another general engagement, but the enemy had drawn off during the night. Coburg retreated and raised the siege of Maubeuge.

Thus the campaign of 1793 ended most successfully for France. The Allies, it is true, still maintained themselves in the north-east and held Valenciennes and Conde, but they had failed in their attempts on Dunkirk and Mauheuge. On the eastern frontier Landau had been relieved and Alsace cleared of the enemy. In the south-east the army of the Maritime Alps had succeeded in expelling the enemy from France. The only French territory in the hands of the enemy was Roussillon in the south-west, where the Spaniards had driven the French under the walls of Perpignan.

With the accession of Jourdan, Hoche, and Pichegru, to the command of the Armies of the North, the Moselle, and the Rhine, the war entered another phase. The mainstay of the French armies was no longer the old regular troops but the new levies of the Revolution. A new system of tactics and a new system of strategy were appearing. Early in 1794 the difference hetween volunteers and regulars disappeared once for all, when by the decree of January 9 the amalgamation, which had been foreshadowed by Dumouriez, was actually effected by order of Dubois-Crance. Throughout all the different French armies two battalions of volunteers were joined to one battalion of regulars, and thus formed a definite unit called a demi-brigade. The demi-brigade took the place of the old regiment. The brigading was finished by March 21, on which day the army of France was composed of 196 demi- brigades of infantry of the line, and 22 demi-brigades of light infantry. The cavalry was composed of 27 regiments of heavy cavalry, 59 regiments of light cavalry, forming in all 90,000 sabres. The artillery was 15,000 strong; it retained its old regimental organisation; but 9 new light artillery regiments were added to it. The organisation of the engineers was left unchanged, the strength of the corps being fixed at 5300. The total number of men under arms was thus 850,000.

As regards administration, a great improvement was made in the method of supplying the army with food. A general or commissioner was no longer allowed to make what requisitions he chose. The decree of February, 1794, laid down that in future the only persons who could make requisitions should be members of the Commission des Subsistances.

This Commission worked systematically and sensibly, It summoned to Paris representatives from the provincial municipalities and carefully explained its methods. The consequence of this, and of the prompt payment which ensued, was that for the future there was no longer any real trouble in victualling the army. Another of the great difficulties which the War Office had to overcome was that of providing arms, ammunition, and equipment for these swollen establishments. The govern­ment very wisely solved this problem by summoning to the aid of the executive all the best practical skill, and all the latest scientific research, that France possessed. Nine great factories were established in Paris which turned out daily a thousand muskets. Church bells were used as raw material for making big guns. Four enormous forges were set going in the Ardennes by Clouet, professor of chemistry at Mezieres. From these foundries and those in Paris 20,000 guns a year, of various calibre, were handed over to the military authorities. A new system of manu­facturing powder was invented at Grenelle; the factory there turned out

30,000     lbs. a day. Fourcroy invented a new way of treating steel, whereby swords and bayonets could be made at great speed. The Republic, in the words of Barere, was an immense besieged town, and France one vast camp.

The new strategy and the new tactics really involved no new principle: they were simply an adaptation of the old maxim of throwing superior weight on the vital spot. The strategist was in future not to attempt to guard every pass, nor to pin himself to the old roads and fortresses. The art of war was no longer to consist in elaborate sieges. To attack boldly when possible, to surprise the enemy by sudden concen­trations and rapid movements, was in future to be the order of the day. The battle once won, the enemies’ fortresses could be reduced at leisure. In the preparations which led to Hondschoote we see for the first time a real grasp of these principles. An army must no longer trust in fortified lines and a passive defence; the secret of all defence is the counterstroke. A new system of tactics had also to be invented to meet the requirements of the new conditions, and to suit the genius and ardour of the revolutionary soldiers. Frederick’s system of careful deployments in line, of constantly seeking the flank of his enemy, was admirably suited to an army of trained veterans accustomed to fight against enemies who could not manoeuvre. But the French had neither the patience nor the steadiness for such precise movements; moreover Frederick’s tactics presumed an immobile enemy. What was now needed was a system whereby full advantage could be taken of the superior intelligence¹ and elan of the Frencl: soldiers. This was effected by no longer attacking in line but returning to the old system of attack in column. The columns were at such distances and intervals that they could rapidly be deployed into line; and were covered on the centre and flanks by heavy clouds of skirmishers. The skirmishers were pushed

434 The Allies.—Carnot's plan of campaign.

boldly ujj to tbe enemy’s line, and the battalion columns supplied tbe superior weight which was necessary to crush the enemy at the vital spot. The objective was now no longer the enemy’s flank, but more often his •centre, whereby his force might be split in two and one half of it surrounded and annihilated. The artillery was still used to open the battle and to Cover the advance of the infantry, but it was being used more and more in heavy masses. The duty of the cavalry was to break the enemy’s cavalry or infantry; it was usually handled with great boldness. The guiding principle of the new strategy and tactics was Danton’s phrase: “ Tatidace et toujmirs Taudace.ⁿ

While it was quite clear that the French were once again establishing their claim to be a nation of soldiers, and were rapidly shaping their military system to meet the new requirements of the age, the Allies were content to abide by their old methods. The Prussians clung to the old system of the great Frederick and in their hearts despised every other army and systiem of warfare. The Austrians blindly followed the Prussian lead. The ignorance of their profession shown by British officers was in the opinion of Wellington contemptible; the staff officers never supervised their commands: but still he allowed that there were many excellent regiments in the British service. The Duke’s comment on the operations of the Allies during the year 1794-5 clearly shows one of the causes of their failure. “ The system of the Austrians,” he writes, “ was all the fashion...that was to post themselves with an advanced guard some ten miles in front, and extend their small posts far too wide, under the notion that this was a security from surprise. What usually happened was that the distant post was attacked and driven in, the small one fell back in confusion, and the enemy arrived at their heels and attacked the main army with every advantage.” In fact the old notion of passive resistance on fortified lines died hard.

Meanwhile the bonds of alliance were becoming more and more strained. It was only the heavy subsidy of £150,000 a month, which Pitt paid to the Prussians, that kept them, in outward form at least, faithful to the Coalition. The French, on the Contrary, from the end of 1793 had the additional advantage of a single control. , The whole of the operations in all the various theatres of war were practically under the supervision of Carnot. There was thus a unity and sense of proportion in the campaigns of 1794 which had hitherto been lacking. Carnot divined that the Allies would concentrate on the Sambre or Meuse, attempt to overwhelm the French resistance in the north-east, and march on Paris. But, instead of acting on the defensive, he instituted a system of bold counterstrokes. Jourdan was replaced in command of the Army of the North by Pichegru, under whose command the Army of the Ardennes was also placed. On March 11 Pichegru received Carnot’s rough sketch for the campaign. The idea was to stand firmly on the defensive round Maubeuge, to feint in Flanders, and to throw the main attack on the

Austrian communications in the direction of Charleroi. Pichegru could only oppose 180,000 French troops to the 148,000 of the Allies, During January and February the French gained some successes, but Landrecies fell into the hands of the Allies. Later, in April and May, the French left under Moreau and Souham advanced against Clerfayt and defeated him at Menin and Courtrai: they then advanced towards Ghent. Mack, Coburg’s chief of the staff, thought he saw an excellent oppurtonity of cutting off this column by a joint movement on Lille from the direction of Menin and Touraay. Accordingly the English and Austrian columns were timed to reach Lille on May 18. But Souham, who commanded in Pichegru’s absence, hearing of this scheme, by an admirable forced march from Lille, brought together at Turcoing on the 17th a force composed of columns under Moreau, Macdonald, and Vandamme, and on the 18th defeated in detail the English and Austrians before they had formed their junction. This victory caused Coburg to imagine that the principal effort of the enemy would be made by the Army of the North in the direction of Flanders. Consequently he withdrew a large portion of his force to the north.

By J une Carnot’s great scheme was in working order. In May, Jour dan, with 45,000 men from the Army of the Moselle, came to take over the command of the Army of the Ardennes. The new army so formed numbered some 100,000 men, and was to be known later as the Army of the Sambre and Meuse. It might almost be called an army of veterans; and certainly in no other army were the soldiers of the Revolution seen to more advantage. Jourdan forced his way over the Meuse, and drove Beaulieu back before him (May 21-81). He had thus penetrated the allied line of defence and threatened Namur. But once again operations were beginning to slacken for want of one single guiding hand, when the Commissioners, by the advice of Levasseur, appointed Jourdan Com­mander-in-chief of the joint armies of the North, the Ardennes, and the Moselle. Jourdan’s first action in his new command was to take steps to lay siege to Charleroi. Meanwhile he ordered the Army of the North to make a forward movement which i resulted in the capture of Ypres and the defeat of Clerfayt at Hooglide. But Jourdan’s mistake of attempting the siege of Charleroi before the Allies had been beaten in the field was clearly seen, when on June 16 the Austrians, under Beaulieu and Alvintzy, appeared in force on the Sambre and forced him to raise the siege of Charleroi. The Austrians, however, were soon checked; and Charleroi was once again besieged and fell after a siege of one week.

Jourdan had barely received the surrender of , Charleroi before Coburg arrived with a force of 70,000 to relieve it. To oppose this force Jourdan had 80,000 at Fleurus; moreover he had already en­trenched his position, and had even procured a captive balloon to assist him in reconnoitring. Coburg had committed the usual Austrian fault of neglecting to concentrate, and his force was too small. The French

occupied the heights of Fleurus. The battle commenced at 3 o’clock on the morning of June 25. The artillery of the Allies was very numerous and well handled; so accurate was its fire that three times the French were driven back on their entrenchments. At midday, after nine hours’ fighting, the French left and centre were driven in. But Kleber managed to restore order on the left, and at six o’clock in the evening Jourdan gathering together all his reserves threw the enemy into confusion. The Allies lost close on 8000 in the battle. The battle of Fleurus was far-reaching in its results. In France it sounded the knell of the Reign of Terror and indirectly resulted in the fall of Robespierre. Its effect on the war was immediate. The Allies, were each desirous of protecting their own communications. Tho English thought only of covering Holland, the Austrians of reaching the Rhine. Thus the French got possession at once, without further fighting, of the whole of the difficult country cut up by the Lys, the Scheldt, the Dendre, the Senne, and the Dyle. Meanwhile the isolated fortresses of Landrecies, Quesnoy, Valenciennes, and Conde made but little resistance. Accordingly the French were enabled to continue their advance. Pichegru seized Malines and Antwerp, while Jourdan drove the Austrians back through Louvaiu and Liege.

The success of the military operations in the Low Countries during

1794 must be attributed in the main to Jourdan. Pichegru was no general; he was essentially a politician; by his 'quarrelsome temper he hindered rather than assisted his colleagues. But in spite of this Pichegru was to make a greater name than Jourdan. In October, while Jourdan crushed the Austrians, Pichegru received orders to invade the United Provinces. Accordingly he followed the route that Dumouriez had sketched out in 1793. He captured Bergen-op-Zoom, Breda, Herto- genbosch, and all the Dutch fortresses in Brabant. He then crossed the Meuse at Grave. The English and Dutch troops retreated behind the Yssel and ultimately evacuated Old Holland. In spite of an extra­ordinarily severe winter the French troops, ragged, hungry, and worn-out, _tiressed on, crossed the Leek, and were received with rapture by the Republican party in Amsterdam in January, 1795. Meanwhile Ger- truydenberg, Dort, Rotterdam, and the Hague, surrendered without a blow. To crown all, the French cavalry under Moreau, supported by a solitary battery of horse artillery, pushed on to the Helder, found that river frozen hard, and, riding sword in hand to the Island of Texel, captured the Dutch fleet. By February the whole of the United Provinces had submitted to the French, and a large section of the people were demanding the French alliance.

While Pichegru was star⁴-’ g on these conquests, Jourdan had

155,000    troops concentrated on the Meuse. In September he moved his right wing under Scherer across the river at Namur. Scherer defeated Clerfayt, who had succeeded Coburg, at the Ourthe on September 18. On October 2 the French drove the Austrians back across the Roer. In

1792-5] Switzerland.—The Sardinian kingdom.                        437

October Jourdan’s main army forced Clerfayt back on the Rhine and took successively Cologne, Andemach, and Coblenz. The consequence was that by January, 1795, Jourdan was in contact on his left at Cleves with the Army of Holland, and on his right at Coblenz with the com­bined Army of the Moselle and Rhine.

The result of the operations of the combined Army of the Rhine and Moselle during the summer of 1794 was that the Prussians were gradually pushed out of the Vosges. In the autumn Mollendorf, who knew that the news from Poland was unfavourable, refused to risk his army in any further engagements, and, after evacuating position after position, fell back across the Rhine on October 6. Thereon the Army of the Moselle, which formed the left of the combined Army of the Rhine, swung through Trier, and picked up connexion with Jourdan, who had occupied Coblenz on October 23. The French, now that the enemy had abandoned the left bank of the Rhine, seized the bridge-head at Rheinfels on November 2, and occupied Mannheim on December 25. Meanwhile Mainz and Luxemburg were invested.

In 1792 the command of the Army of the South had been entrusted to General Montesquiou. His duty was twofold: first to secure the neutrality of Switzerland; secondly to operate against the Sardinians. The Swiss, as was natural, were greatly incensed against the French because of the massacre of the Swiss Guards in August, 1792; and above all owing to the attempt of the Constituent Assembly to annex Geneva to France. Montesquiou, however, succeeded in reestablishing peaceful relations with Switzerland. The neutrality of Switzerland was most important to the French. Switzerland covered the French frontier on the south-east. Its occupation by the Allies would have allowed them to turn the rear of the Army of the Rhine. While Montesquiou was successfully negotiating with the Swiss, a division of his army, com­manded by Anselme, had occupied Nice and was holding the line of the Var.

The seizure of Nice and the violation of Savoy, added to the close relationship which existed between the House of Savoy and the Bourbons, caused Sardinia to declare war on France. The Sardinians occupied the strong position of Saorgio and held the crest of the mountains. They were thus in a position to invade France. But winter put an end to operations. During the first half of 1793 the French, who were commanded by Kellermann and Biron, were just able to hold the enemy in check. In July and August, owing to the troubles at Lyons and Marseilles and the English occupation of Toulon, the Sardinians successfully crossed the passes and entered Savoy. But in September Kellermann, after two actions, drove the invading corps of

20.000     Sardinians back from Aigueville on to the Mont Cenis Pass, in spite of the fact that they were now reinforced by a corps of Austrians.

438                          French successes in northern Italy.               , [1794

During the year 1794 the French forces in the south-east were split up into two corps, known as the Army of the Alps and the Army of Italy. This was a grave mistake, as Bonaparte and other generals pointed out; it resulted in ill-timed efforts and wasted opportunities. In March and April the Army of the Alps made several unsuccessful attempts to seize the Mont Cenis Pass. However on April 23 Dumas got possession of the St Bernard Pass, and on May 14 he captured the Mont Cenis also. Meanwhile the Army of Italy was endeavouring to oust the Sardinian General Colli from his strong camp at Saorgio. The camp of Saorgio covered the important Col di Tenda; from Tenda the road ran straight to Turin. Bonaparte, who commanded the artillery of the Army of Italy, acted as chief adviser to General Dumerbion, an old nonentity. It was by his advice that the Committee of Public Safety allowed General Dumerbion to violate the neutrality of Genoa. A turning movement was then made by the sources of the Tanaro, and on April 20 Massena seized the redoubts of the Col di Tenda. As the result of twenty days’ fighting the French captured 4000 prisoners and 70 guns, and picked up communication with the Army of the Alps. Thus by May the French held the principal chain of the Alps, and were at liberty to invade the plain of Piedmont. But here their success came to an end. The authorities in Paris considered that the combined Army of the Alps and Italy would be too large a corps to be manageable. Accordingly a draft of 10,000 men was despatched, from the Army of the Alps to the Army of the Rhine. The Army of Italy was still nominally

80,000     strong, but 22,000 were absorbed by garrisons, 8000 by depot duty, and 15,000 were in hospital; consequently only 35,000 were left for duty in the field. The Sardinians and Austrians were holding the line of the fortresses Coni, Mondova, and Ceva. Bonaparte was authorised to draw up a plan of campaign ; his idea was that the Army of the Alps should move along the left bank of the Stura, cross the mountains, and cut the communication between Coni and Demonte; while the Army of Italy would move forward, keep up communication on the left with the Army of the Alps, and occupy the plain of Coni. The armies started, and the Army of the Alps had penetrated the valley of the Stura, and the Army of Italy had already thrown back Colli’s advance guard, when on August 21 orders came from Paris to halt, and then to retreat. The reason was that Robespierre had fallen, and all his friends, including Bonaparte, were regarded with suspicion. Consequently the Committee stopped all offensive operations in Piedmont, and contented itself with ordering the occupation of the principal passes of the Alps. Later in the year Mass&ia prevented the Austrians and Sardinians from seizing Savona and thus threatening the French communications by the Comice Road. The campaign of 1794 had been unsuccessful; but it left the French in a position from which at any moment they could invade Piedmont.

We have seen that, after the execution of Louis, the Spaniards declared war on France. The war was on one side national, on the other religious. The French were fighting,to oppose the doctrine of kingship; the Spaniards took up arms to uphold the Holy Catholic Church, which had been robbed of its possessions by the Civil Constitution of the clergy. On both sides military preparations were conspicuous by their absence. Since 1763 the fortresses on either side of the frontier had been allowed to fall into disrepair. In 1793 on the side of France the remains of the old Army of the Centre did not exceed 25,000 men. With great difficulty, by April, 8000 men were collected between the Nive and Nivelle, and a similar number under the walls of Perpignan. The Spaniards were equally unprepared for war. The treasury was empty, the army on a very low peace footing, and there were no stores or material for war. Still the ministers of Charles IV boldly decided to attempt the conquest of Roussillon with

40,000     troops, and at the same time to cross the western Pyrenees and push up towards the Loire. All the passes of the Pyrenees are very high; and further, there are only two practicable passes at the east end, namely, the Col de Perche lying between the river Segre and the Auch, and the Col de Perthus between the Tet and the Ter. At the western end of the mountains lie the passes of Roncesvalles and Mayo covered by Pampeluna; and along the shore-road there are four passes covered by the towns of San Sebastian, Bilbao, Santander, and Oviedo. Owing to the great distance between the groups of passes at the two ends of the mountains the armies on both sides had to be divided into a western and an eastern army.

The Spanish Cabinet decided that an advance should at once be made into Roussillon, while the Army of the West should remain on the defensive in Navarre and Guipuscoa. Accordingly on April 15 the Spanish Army of the East crossed the frontier under General Ricardos. If that general had pushed on at once, he might have taken Perpignan. The French army was in a complete state of demoralisation. One com­mander succeeded another in rapid succession. Barbantane, Dagobert, d’Aoust, Thurreau, and Doppet quickly replaced each other at the whim of the Representatives on Mission. By the end of 1793 the French had had to abandon their first line of resistance on the Tech, and had fallen back on their second line the Tet. The French Army of the West had been a little more successful. By July it amounted to a force of 30,000 men—destitute, it is true, of all stores or magazines, without any ideas of obedience, and permeated by the venom of Jacobinism which trickled in from Bayonne. Its commanders succeeded each other with the usual rapidity. Servan, Delbecq, and Despres- Crassier all enjoyed the doubtful honour for but a short time. Luckily for the French, the ^enterprising Spanish General Curo was held fast by orders from Madrid, and could make no forward movement. At last

the French themselves were ready to assume the offensive. But their attempts to cross the Bidassoa in August and September both failed. In this quarter the net result of the year’s fighting was that the French had just managed; to cover Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port and Bayonne.

In 1794 the French were more successful. In the East they jnce more took the initiative. Dagohert, an old officer of the Seven Years’ War, crossed the Pass of Perche and penetrated the valley of the Segre, where he died of fatigue hefore Saint Miguel. Dugommier, his successor, a good general, had the additional prestige of being a member of the Convention ; he was moreover heartily seconded in his efforts by Perignon and Augereau, and by the new Commissioner and Represen­tative Debrel. Starting in May with a force of 40,000 men, he once again recaptured the line of the Tech, and drove the enemy across the Pass of Perthes, and entered Catalonia, where he was confronted by the great Spanish lines at the Pass of Banyuls which covered Figueras. The French army was starving, and its only chance of getting stores was to capture Figueras. Dugommier accordingly decided to attack the lines on November 18; but he was killed while giving his orders. Perignon, his successor, attacked again the next day, drove the enemy from their position, and on November 27 forced Figueras to surrender. By 1795 all the fortresses of North Catalonia were in French hands.

At the end of 1793 the Western Army of the Pyrenees was reduced to less than 20,000 men; but in January, 1794, it received many drafts of recruits. It was not till June that these recruits could be considered soldiers. Meanwhile the army lay behind a strong line pf fortifications stretching from the source of the Nive to the high road through Saint-Jean-de-Luz. The five divisions of the army were so posted that they held the heads of all the Spanish valleys which lead into France. The army was under the command of Muller, a very careful general. On July 31 the French stormed the Spanish camp of San Martial, captured all the artillery and crossed the Bidassoa. Fuenterrahia and San Sebastian fell during the first week of August. On August 9 the Spanish general Colomera fell back hurriedly from Tolosa. Muller ought at once to have advanced on Pampeluna. But by this time the Commissioner Pinet had so disgusted the inhabitants of Guipuscoa that a guerilla warfare broke out. The French advance was checked; they lost San Sebastian but managed to retain Tolosa. During the winter of 1794-5 the Spaniards began to lose heart. But though negotiations for peace were set on foot, they brought no immediate result. No forward movement was made during the spring, as peace seemed imminent. At last on June 25 operations commenced. On July 6 Moncey, the new French commander, cut the Spanish army in two at Irurzon. Then, leaving Dagonet to watch Pampeluna, he hurried after the Spanish left. By July 13 he had driven it in rout

before him, crossed the pass of the Pyrenees, and entered Vittoria. Passing on he took Bilbao. But on July 22 peace ended the campaign.

At the commencement of 1795 a general peace seemed possible. France had undoubtedly once again reestablished her place in Europe. She had defeated all her enemies on land and added largely to her territories; she had at last gained her natural boundaries. The first outburst of the propagandist zeal had died out; Napoleon had not yet taught her to hunger after the territories of her neighbours. Now that the Terror was over, the time seemed opportune to establish her conquests on a sure footing, and to take stock of her interior position. But if France desired peace, much more did several of the members of the Coalition desire to end the war. Prussia, on October 16, 1794, had definitely withdrawn her forces from the contest. During 1794 she had only kept a force on the Rhine in return for the English subsidy. In October England considered that Prussia had not given her the value of her money, and accordingly had withdrawn the subsidy. Though Prussia grumbled, she was undoubtedly glad to have an excuse for retiring and concentrating her attention on Poland. Meanwhile the Emperor was negotiating with Catharine of Russia; and on January 3, 1795, they signed a treaty whereby they agreed to partition Turkey, Venice, Bavaria, and Poland. On the ocean the shadow of the Armed Neutrality of the North had already fallen across the English Sea Power. In the west Spain saw with dismay the barrier of the Pyrenees pierced, and the road to Madrid half uncovered. In the north Holland lay at the feet of tbe victor.

Such was the condition of Europe when, on January 12, Barthelemy, the French ambassador to Switzerland, a disciple of Choiseul, met the Prussian envoy Count von der Goltz, who had been sent by Frederick William at the instigation of Mollendorf, Prince Hemy, and Lucchesini. Goltz died on February 6, before his mission had pro­gressed very far, and his place was taken by Hardenberg, one of the future regenerators of Prussia. On April 5, 1795, Barthelemy on behalf of France, and Hardenberg on behalf of Prussia, signed the famous Treaty of Basel; whereby Prussia gave France a free hand on the left bank of the Rhine, and France in return undertook to respect a line of demarcation which virtually placed northern Germany under Prussian control. Tbe vexed question of the left bank of the Rhine was to remain over till it could be settled at a European Congress; but a secret article arranged for compensation to Prussia, should the French territory be extended to the Rhine. Meanwhile Holland was treating for peace directly with the Committee of Public Safety, and on May 16 was glad to accept the hard terms offered her by France. She became virtually dependent on France, and had to bear her share in the war against England. The Coalition lost yet one other member. The death of the young Dauphin

442

Jourdan and Pichegru in Germany.

(Louis XVII) in June, and the advance of Moncey in northern Spain, threw the Court of Madrid into confusion. Moreover, the Queen was afraid that the odium of defeat might fall on her paramour, Godoy. Accordingly negotiations were opened Up with France, and on July 22, 1795, peace was signed. France evacuated her conquests in Spain, and received in return the Spanish half of San Domingo; By the end of

1795 Saxony, the two Hesses, Portugal, Naples, the Duke of Parma, and the Pope, had all made their peace with France. It was quite clear that the French Republic, under the Directory, was a stable government; that France had now a clear definite policy; and that she was quite willing to lend herself to the old political formula of Europe, “ the balance of power”—as interpreted by herself.

We see then that in 1795 France had fewer enemies to face. There was no likelihood of a campaign in the north, though the Army of the North under Moreau had to find strong garrisons for Holland and the Netherlands. In the Pyrenees, as we have seen, there was some fighting. But, so far as operations on land went, France had now practically only two foes to meet. These were the Austrians and the Sardinians. Ac­cordingly the military operations of interest in this year centre round the Maritime Alps and the Rhine Valley. On the eastern frontier the French plan of campaign was that the Army of the Sambre and Meuse under Jourdan, and the Army of the Rhine and Moselle under Pichegru, should operate in conjunction and drive the enemy back on the Danube. Jourdan’s first task was to undertake the siege of Luxemburg with his right wing, while Pichegru’s left wing, or the old Army of the Moselle, undertook the reduction of Mainz. The sieges went on but slowly, because Carnot had been succeeded by Aubry and Letoumeur, who were unable to grapple with the problems of army administration. Consequently, owing to lack of necessities and stores, both armies suffered very heavily from disease and desertion. In Jourdan’s army alone, out of a total of 170,000, 76,300 were in hospital. Luxemburg had been invested on November 21, 1794; it was one of the strongest fortresses in Europe, and did not capitulate till June 25, 1795.

Jourdan then at once took the offensive. Owing to the lack of proper stores and supplies he had organised a flotilla from Holland which supplemented his convoys from France. He crossed the Rhine at Diisseldorf and, pushing back Clerfayt in front of him, reached the Main, where he hoped to cooperate with Pichegru. Pichegru had started on September 20 and captured Mannheim. By a sudden move­ment on Heidelberg he might have driven a wedge between the two Austrian armies, and, in conjunction with Jourdan, have crushed in detail first Clerfayt and then Wurmser. Panic was widespread through the German south-west; the Landgrave of Darmstadt and the Margrave of Baden fled hurriedly. But Pichegru had entered into secret negotia­tions with the Austrians. He had been promised the baton of a Marshal

of France, the government of Alsace, one million francs in cash, and

200.000    louis in rentes, a hotel in Paris, and the CMteau of Chambord. In return he was to employ his army to overthrow the Directory and restore the Comte de Provence. Instead, therefore, of seizing this oppor­tunity to crush the Austrians, Pichegru pushed forward two divisions without supports. He knew that Clerfayt could easily crush these isolated divisions and could then effect his junction with Wurmser. He hoped that the united Austrians would then be strong enough to give him an excuse for retreating. The plan succeeded. Pichegru had to fall back. The Austrians retook Mannheim, and Pichegru’s army retired in disorder behind the lines of Weissenburg. There, on December 81,1795, Pichegru signed an armistice with the Austrians.

Jourdan meanwhile had attempted to come to Pichegru’s help. But he could not prevent Mannheim from capitulating. Hereupon, as Wurmser had crossed to the left bank of the Rhine, and Clerfayt was advancing against him, Jourdan fell slowly back and established a fortified camp at Traarbach. From this position, if necessary, he could safely cross the Moselle, watch the bridges over that river, and keep up communication with Luxemburg. Owing to the severity of the winter, the Austrians on December 19 demanded an armistice, to which Jourdan gladly acceded. The campaign was a great disappointment to the French. But their ill success in this year on the Rhine must be set down entirely to the treachery of Pichegru. If Pichegru had seized his opportunity at Heidelberg the Austrians ought to have been driven completely out of the Rhine Valley and forced back to the Danube.

In Italy during the first half of the year 1795, although the French held the crest of the mountains, they had to stand on the defensive. The combined Austro-Sardinian force numbered some 70,000 men, to which the French, owing to sickness and garrison duty, could only oppose

20.000     of the Army of Italy and 15,000 of the Army of the Alps.

The plan of campaign of the Allies was twofold. The King of Sardinia desired to operate by way of the Mont Cenis and St Bernard Passes and to penetrate into Savoy; while the Austrians, at the instiga­tion of the English, intended to concentrate their efforts on the Riviera, working in conjunction with the British fleet. The French, on their side, disregarded Bonaparte’s plan of a combined movement of the two armies by way of the Valley of Stura, and attempted to force their way into the plain of Piedmont by the Borghetta Pass; although the Comice Road was insecure, as they had not command of the sea. At the end of April Kellermann was recalled to take command of the two armies. He found his troops in absolute destitution, strung out on a long line like a cordon. Massena was at Vado on the right, Macquart at the Col di Tenda in the centre; while Serrurier on the left occupied the Col di Rosas, whence he held out a hand to the Army of the Alps, which stretched

from Barcelonnette to Geneva. Kellermann’s orders were to evacuate Nice and base himself on the river Var. In spite of this he determined to entrench his army in the position where he found it. During April, May, and June the Sardinians were defeated in their attempts to force the Col di Tenda and the Saint Bernard, Pass In June, de Vins, the. com­mander-in-chief of the Allies, determined to make a combined movement. The Austrians were to march on Savona and the Sardinians on the Col di Tenda. Accordingly on June 34 de Vins made an attempt to occupy the town of Savona, and, though repulsed, he got possession of San Giacomo. At the same moment the Sardinians, under Colli, made two unsuccessful attempts on the Col di Tenda. The capture of San Giacomo made the French position untenable, and the French right wing had to fall back during the night of June 28. But, owing to the mutual jealousy of Colli and de Vins, the Allies were unable to press the retreat­ing French. The French commander quickly perceived the want of union among the Allies, and determined to resume the offensive. It was his plan to use the Army of the Alps as a containing force while, the Army of Italy swung round by the Col di Tenda into the plain of Piedmont. But the Cornmil tee of Safety ordered Kellermann to advance by Vado, Montenotte, and Millesimo to Ceva, and there to concentrate his forces for a campaign in 1796. Kellermann pointed out that his army was not adequate for such extensive operations. Thereon the Committee deposed him, and appjinted Scherer in his place. Meanwhile de Vins frittered away his opportunity on the seaboard in useless expostulations with Nelson.

Scherer took over his command at the beginning of October. His army was in great destitution, and would have actually starved, if it had not been for help from Geroa. as otherwise he could only get supplies when the coasting ships managed to escape the English cruisers. He adopted Massena’s plan of pushing forward from the valley of the Tanaro. On November 23 Augereau surprised and routed the Austro-Sardinian centre, thus causing them to evacuate Loano; while Massdna aided him by a vigorous attack whereby he regained the crest of the Apennines. Serrurier on the left met with less success and was repulsed by Colli. But the French had effected their object; the allied centre was forced to retreat that night. On the next day Augereau pushed forward through the valley of Loano and crossed the Apennines, while part of Massena’s force under Joubert occupied the gorge of San Giacomo. Meanwhile, on the extreme i ight, the rest of Massena’s force under Dom- martin, aided by* the guns of the French naval squadron, drove Wallis off the Cornice Road and forced him to escape by the hill-tracks over the mountains. Scherer was anxious to turn the two days’ battle at Loano into a complete victory, and at once despatched a division to reinforce Serrurier. But Colli withstood the French attack, and it was not until he heard of the defeat of his centre and left wing, that he retired at

night, leaving behind him his artillery. Serrurier pursued him to Ceva wheve he took refuge under the guns of that fortress. Meanwhile by November 29 Wallis had effected his retreat to Dego and Aquila. The net result of this short campaign was that the Austrians lost 7000 men and 80 guns; while the Sardinians had lost their fortified camp, two fortresses, and a considerable number of magazines. Moreover the road to Piedmont now lay open. Undoubtedly Scherer ought to have pressed on, as Turin was in an uproar* and the allied army had practically ceased to exist. Instead of so doing he at once went into winter-quarters.

Thus by the end of 1795 the war had assumed an entirely new com­plexion. It was now no longer a question of the right of France to change her government nor of the Allies desiring to indemnify them­selves at the expense of continental France. The war, subsequent to the Triple Alliance of September, 1795, between England, Austria, and Russia, was a war of various motives. Austria intended to indemnify herself in Italy for her losses in the Low Countries; Russia hoped to find her indemnity in Turkey now that she had got all of Poland she could hope for. Russia joined this al”ance out of anger against Prussia who had defeated the Russian schemes of aggrandisement by making peace with France at Basel. So long as Catharine lived Russia would not actively combine against France. England really believed that the French occupation of the Low Countries was a menace to her position, and above all she was desirous of retaining the colonial conquests she had made, or was about to make, at the expense of France and Holland. On the side of France also the war had assumed a different significance. It was no longer a ques tion of defending the fatherland, nor of acquiring the “natural boundaries,’' nor of liberating fellow-creatures down-trodden by tyrants. It was to be a war of spoliation and of glory, instead of faith and principle. France was now fighting either for the glory of the Directors, or to pay her soldiers, or to distract attention from troubles at home. The age of Bonaparte had arrived.

By the end of 1795 all these circumstances had left their mark on the French army. The law of requisition had called out as recruits each year all men of the age of twenty; from that time the French army was in outward shape a national army. But the newly formed auxiliary legions from the Netherlands, Italy, and elsewhere tended to shatter those essentially national ideas which distinguished the army during the first years of the Revolution. Further, continuous service was causing the conscript and volunteer to merge his character in that of the mercenary soldier. Still the French soldier of that age never forgot his enthusiasm for his country, whether his country was represented to him by the Republic or by the Emperor. It was this burning enthusiasm working through a mass of trained veterans which made the French armies practically invincible. Yet, though the same spirit ran through the whole of the French troops, each individual army had its special traits.

The Army of the Sambre and Meuse had the special note of self-sacrifice; in 1794 and 1795 it had to play a subordinate part to Pichegru, as later in 1796 and 1797 it was sacrificed to Moreau. The Army of the Rhine was the most patriotic and most completely devoted to the Republic. Under Moreau it was to become the best disciplined of all the French armies. The Army of Italy was noted for its bravery; but in it pillage had already laid the seeds of deterioration.

As regards the staff of the army the years 1792-5 had seen many changes. By 1795 the first type of general, the ambitious Royalists, the Dumouriez’ and the Custines, had disappeared. The years 1794-5 were marked by , a new type. The successful sous-officiers of the old regime, the ardent Republicans, the Hoches, the Pichegrus, or civilians like Moreau, had forced their way to the top. By the end of 1795 a yet newer type was developing. The future generals were no longer politicians, they were before all things soldiers. They loved their men ,• they loved their profession; above all they loved glory. They were intensely proud of their soldierly qualities; but they could not take orders from each other. They could only bow before immense military talents; they were in fact the men of Napoleon—Dessaix, Kleber, Ney, Soult, Lefebvre, Bemadotte, Macdonald, Gouvion-Saint-Cyr, Berthier, Augereau, Lannes, Murat, and Massdna.

A great change was also coming over the officers of the army as a mass. Up to 1795 promotion had been mainly by the election of the soldiers or the selection of the Representative on Mission. The officer had gained his training in the field. After 1795 promotion was still open from the ranks; but the Directory established new schools for officers. Cavalry schools were set up at Versailles, Luneville, and Angers. The IiJcole Polytechnique and the Nicoles d’Application for the engineers and artillery furnished officers for these special branches. The medical department was officered from the special military medical schools of Paris, Montpellier, and Strassburg.

The end of 1795 therefore marked an epoch in the histoiy of the French army. Its inherent strength no longer consisted in the remnants of the old royal army, nor in the fierce devotion of its soldiers to the principles of the Revolution. But its power lay in the fact that it was now an army of enthusiastic soldiers trained by years of continuous warfare, and organised entirely with a view to war. In future it gained its victories, not because its opponents missed their opportunities and did not recognise their needs; nor because its enemies lacked cohesion, and were demoralised by jealousies; but because it possessed the highest military talent of the age; and because its strategy, its tactics, and its whole organisation, were in unison with the aims and objects of the people and the rulers or ruler pf France.

CHAPTER XY.

THE NAVAL WAR.

In the later years of the reign of Louis XVI great attention had been devoted by the French government to its Navy, and both the material and the personnel of that force had reached a high level of efficiency. The defects revealed in the American War had been as far as possible remedied. The insufficient supply of skilled officers and trained seamen-gunners, which in large measure explained the few reverses suffered by France in the course of that war, led to the introduction of changes in the method of recruiting and educating officers, and to the formation of a new corps of seamen-gunners, organised in nine divisions, each of 1700 men. The corps of officers, by an ordinance of 1786, was to consist of 100 captains, of whom 27 were to be commodores; 100 “majors of vessels”; 680 lieutenants; and 840 sub-lieutenants. To enter the corps of officers the cadet had to show proof of noble birth, but he received a long and carefully thought-out training, and was required to pass an examination before he was allowed to reach the rank of lieu­tenant. Youths of inferior station were permitted to enter the service as “volunteers;” and from their numbers were chosen the greater part of the sub-lieutenants, but with the proviso that they could never rise higher than to lieutenant, and to that por'^J i jn only for some remarkable service. Thus on the eve of the Revolution the French navy was officered by men of noble birth, and the humbly bom could never aspire to high rank. The field of choice was narrowed, and it was impossible for the son of middle-class parents to rise, though in the British navy at this period this was not only feasible but quite common.

The levelling tendencies of the Revolution madt short work of all such restrictions in the French navy; but at the same time the general revolt against authority in every form, which was one of the features of the revolutionary movement, broke down all discipline among the subordinate officers and seamen, and rendered the position of the senior officers so disagreeable that they resigned their commissions in hundreds.

At Brest trouble began }n 1789, when an unpopular director of the port, a naval captain, had to be temporarily removed, because the dockyard

workmen disliked him. There was an outbreak of anarchism; and the British ambassador in Paris gave information to the French authorities, who ridiculed the story, that he had been approached with a view to the destruction of the dockyard. As subsequently several incendiary attempts were made upon the yard, it is probable that there was more in this affair than the French authorities supposed. Similar disorders occurred at the other French naval ports; and at Toulon there was a serious mutiny which was treated with the most injudicious lenity. The people of the town and the seamen of the fleet were led to believe that it was safer to be on the side of disorder than on that of order, and they speedily profited by the lesson. At the end of the year there was a fresh outbreak at Toulon, directed against Comte d’Albert de Rions, then commanding the squadron in that port, and by general acknowledgment the ablest French naval commander of his day. He was attacked by a number of mutinous workmen in the dockyard, and through the cowardice and bad faitb of the municipality and the National Guard was cruelly maltreated, and narrowly escaped with his life. He was finally imprisoned ; but when the Constituent Assembly heard of his plight it ordered his release, though without blaming those who had failed to protect him. Far from being punished, his assailants were declared to have acted as patriots. De Rions was succeeded by an officer named de Glandeves, whose treatment was mucb the same. All through 1790 the disorders at Toulon continued, a captain narrowly escaping death in August at the hands of a mob. In 1792 Rear-Admiral de Flotte, then commanding the fleet at Toulon, was attacked, severely wounded, and hanged, while three captains were killed with him.

At Brest the state of affairs bad also gone from bad to worse, uecause the government had not the courage to punish those whom it knew to be guilty of violence and sedition. The attempt to fit out a fleet in 1790, during the dispute between England and Spain regarding Nootka Sound, led to a serious outbreak in the Brest squadron. Tbe men, when they learnt the details of the new penal code decreed by the Assembly, rose and assailed with abuse d’Albert de Rions, who after leaving Toulor had been appointed to the command; while in the town there were serious disturbances. The seamen who had been prominent in this affair received from the Assembly the most singular punishment conceivable. They were dismissed from tbe service and sent to their homes, which was probably exactly what they wanted, since hard work in the fleet, with no pay and little food, was not an entrancing prospect for anybody. As the result 'of this act of weakness further troubles followed; and down to the beginning of war with England there was incessant friction between the officers and men.

One of the first consequences of these troubles at Brest and Toulon was the emigration of no fewer than 600 officers, among whom was an unusual proportion of men of strong character, high principle, and

professional capacity. The French National Assembly was thus con­fronted with a new and difficult problem: how to obtain or improvise officers in a profession which is peculiarly technical. It set to work to reorganise the navy according to its own preconceived ideas, disregarding the advice of naval officers of tried capacity; and the results of its handiwork were seen in every page of French naval history from the First of June to Trafalgar. It had previously caused confusion by introducing trial by jury afloat. In April, 1791, it sanctioned a law abolishing the old methods of recruiting and training officers, and opened commissions to all Frenchmen below the age of 20, after passing an examination. Those successful in this competition entered the navy and served for three years as “ aspirants,” after which they could claim their discharge. Any man who had served six years at sea, of which one was to be spent in a warship, could compete for the grade of ensign; and ensigns of more than eight years’ sea service, two of which were to be in the navy, might be promoted to captain’s rank; thus a merchant seaman, with but three years of training in a warship, might find himself in command of a ship of the line. Other decrees from time to time modified the conditions and rendered them less exacting; in fact, the Assembly endeavoured to fuse the professions of naval and merchant- marine officer. In October, 1793, the decree of “purification,” which was caused by the surrender of Toulon to the English, appeared to complete the disorganisation of the fleet. This ordained that the various municipalities, in close relation with the seamen, should determine the “ civism ” of the officers and hear denunciations of them, after which all who were untrustworthy were to be replaced from candidates nomin­ated by the local authorities. It was now possible for merchant officers to rise to the rank of flag officer with little or no naval training. An earlier and more disastrous measure was the abolition of the corps of seamen-gunners, and its replacement by a new corps of marine artillery, commanded by artillery officers from the army. The explanation of this surprising change was probably the Assembly’s distrust of the “civism ” of the seamen-gunners. But the abolition of the seamen-gunners deprived the French navy of its best shots just when they were most wanted, and introduced a discordant element into the ships’ crews.

The flight or execution of the ablest senior officers left the navy of France without the experienced leaders who alone could have con­fronted the British admirals of that age with success. Such men as de Rions, Grimouard, Kersaint, and d’Estaing, could not easily be replaced. A low standard of professional capacity mnrWprl the French navy throughout the war of 1793; and there were few of those hard-fought actions which had characterised the American War, and in which victory generally went to the heavier battery. It was not a navy but a congeries of ships and men that France placed at sea. A consciousness of this fact led to such utterances as those of Jean Bon Saint-Andre, to the effect

that the qualities required for victory at sea were enthusiasm, courage, and audacity. The same delusion reappears at wide intervals in different nations, so that Jean Bon cannot be accused of any superlative folly. On land, where grave disorganisation had been produced by the revolutionary changes in the French army, a disunited enemy had been encountered; and masses of men had been employed by the French against the handfuls furnished by the other European Powers. But at sea the conditions changed. Masses could not be utilised by France, for the simple reason that the ships into which to put them did not exist; and for the first time the French revolutionaries encountered men animated by a national feeling as strong as their own. In the effort to override skill, the organisers of the republican navy directed their captains to resort to boarding as far as possible, as it was too hastily assumed that the British must be deficient in courage, being slaves of the tyrant George III.

The complete anarchy on board French ships from the beginning of the Revolution placed the French fleet at a grave disadvantage in every battle against a disciplined foe. Even when face to face with the enemy the men at times refused to fight, and could never be trusted to obey. Instances of gross cowardice were not uncommon. Early in 1793, on a cruise of the Brest squadron, the Tourville was dismasted with the loss of her captain and twelve men. Thereupon her crew, in sheer fright, refused to work the ship. In the Republicain, while tacking, the foresails were carried away. Several attempts to get her round failed, owing to the inexperience of the officers and men, of whom only thirty could be induced by threats or promises to put in an appearance on deck. Even the officers were backward. In bad weather the seamen hid them­selves below; according to the statement of a competent French officer all discipline had vanished, and it was impossible to trust the men either to navigate the ship or to fight her. In the East Indies the crews of the cruisers Cybele and Resolue, when threatened by a British ship, declared they would only fight if attacked. The cowardice, ignorance, and inexperience of the officers and men were rendered even more disastrous by ignorance at headquarters. The instructions sent to the squadrons from Paris were often confused and contradictory. A good example of this is to be found in the orders given to Morard de Galles in 1793. He was directed at one and the same time, with one and the same fleet, to escort a convoy from San Domingo to France and to prevent the disembarkation of British troops on the Vendee coast. In the same way, vague and contradictory orders were given to the navy in 1796 on the eve of the expedition to Ireland. The Ministry of the Navy had a habit of forgetting that provisions did not last for ever, and that any French fleet which took the sea under Republican discipline would speedily stand in need of repairs and refit, owing to the collisions which occurred whenever any attempt was made to practise fleet tactics, and

owing to the loss of masts and spars whenever the wind blew with any force. Movements were prescribed, which the admirals, even had there been the best will on their part, could not possibly have executed. When the admirals failed, their patriotism was suspected. If they left inefficient ships behind them when they put to sea, they were accused of treason by the population of the naval ports ; if they took the inefficient ships out, their movements were hampered at every turn; and when they regained port extensive repairs had to be executed, which brought the naval administration at Paris down upon them, with questions why they were not able to keep their fleets in good order.

The condition of the dockyards and of the materiel of the fleet was little better than that of the personnel. Louis XVI had maintained his fleet in good condition until the outbreak of the Revolution, and the ships were excellently built and designed. Herein they had at the outset a marked advantage over British ships of their own type. But the financial embarrassments of France and the disorder and incapacity of the revolutionary administration were responsible for a failure to provide stores and sails on the eve of war. The masts and spars were bad; the sails were of inferior canvas; the rigging was too often of old rope; the ironwork throughout the ships was defective in quality. In the later years of the war the ships were generally overladen with masts of excessive size and weight, and for this reason not only were they slower than British ships, thus losing all the advantage of good design in the hulls, but they were also incapable of being refitted at sea by the crews. Complaints as to the quality of the powder recur from time to time, while the clothing and provisions supplied were insufficient or poor in quality. Brest was speedily placed in a perilous position by the rising in the Vendee against the Republic, and was repeatedly in danger of actual starvation. Communication with the rest of France and with Paris was uncertain and slow. There was a want of money; and, since no one would furnish anything except for cash in consequence of the bad faith which the republican government showed to its creditors, resort was had to requisitions, with most unsatisfactory results.

The men needed for the manning of the fleet were raised from the seafaring population, or drawn from the army; and, as compulsion was employed, there should have been no want of good material. But so indifferently was the service administered that there was a perpetual lack of seamen, partly, no doubt, because of the superior attractions which privateers offered. The number of ships in the French fleet at the close of 1792 amounted to 246, of which 86 were of the line. Of these 13 were building and were not ready for sea, and only 27 were in commission. The battleships were thus distributed: 39 at Brest, 10 at Lorient, 13 at Rochefort, and 24 at Toulon. The frigates numbered 78. There were 47 corvettes and 35 gunboats and fireships. The French ship was superior to the British ship of her own class in weight of

metal fired from long guns, while her projectiles were actually heavier, even when nominally of the same weight. The French seventy-four fired 990 lb., on her broadside, as against the British seventy-four’s 972 or 790 lb., for the British seventy-fours were of several different types, each with a different battery. The 76 French ships of the line, which were available in early 1793, fired a total weight of metal on the broadside of 73,957 lb., from 6002 guns.

A Parliamentary Return shows that the British fleet in 1792 comprised 141 ships of the line, 157 frigates, and 136 smaller craft, or a grand total of 434 vessels. But of these a large number were in a dilapidated condition, and quite unfit to put to sea, while others again were on the stocks and incomplete. The ships of the line actually efficient at the opening of 1793 were 115, mounting a total of 8718 guns, and firing on the broadside 88,957 lb. of metal, which gave the British battle-squadron an advantage of about 20 per cent, in weight of metal as against the French. The number of seamen voted in 1792 was but 16,000, of whom 4425 were marines. The marines were employed at this date and throughout the war not only as small-arms men and for landing parties, but also as a kind of naval police, to hold the seamen down and to support the officers. They were berthed aft, dose to the officers’ quarters, and rarely took the part of the seamen. On occasions they were replaced by soldiers, who had a share in several of the important engagements of the war. The number of men borne had been 39,526 in 1790, the year of the Nootka Sound armament, when war with Spain seemed probable; but from this it had been shortsightedly reduced to 34,097 in 1791 and to 16,000 in 1792. The amount voted in 1792 was only £1,985,482. As war drew nearer, in December, 1792, an additional 9000 men, 1000 of whom were to be marines, were voted by Parliament; but the mobilisation of the whole fleet at that date would have demanded at least 100,000 men, so that this addition was quite insufficient. By 1799 the total borne was 120,409.

For the expansion of the fleet from its peace to its war strength, time was required. The men wanted were obtained in several ways. Voluntary enlistments, generally with a bounty, supplied a considerable part of the force. Recourse was also had to the press, to which all seamen were liable. They were taken forcibly, by gangs of armed men, acting under the direction of an officer, from the British seaports, or even from British merchant ships at sea. Nominally landsmen were exempt from this burden, but in practice they were often swept off. Moreover, many foreigners and Americans were engaged; and, when all these expedients failed to supply the number of men needed, an Act was passed in 1795, requiring of the various counties quotas of men, according to the population, the number ranging from 23 in the case of Rutland, to 1081 in the case of Yorkshire. A few weeks later this

1793-9] Enlistment and treatment of British seamen. 453

was followed by another Act requiring the various ports to supply quotas of men. The total demanded under these two Acts was 30,000, and in many cases the men thus obtained seem to have possessed a good education.

As a last resource there remained the compulsory enlistment of minor criminals. Smugglers, thieves, and turbulent characters generally, were sent on board to relieve the country of the cost of their maintenance in prison. When the political troubles in Ireland began, an infusion of members of secret societies and United Irishmen was added. The material with which the British officer had to work was thus unpromising; and the British fleet had here no advantage as against the French navy, for there was a deep sense of injustice among the British seamen, which found violent expression later, that they were deprived of liberty and compelled to fight for the stay-at-homes. “Whilst landsmen wander uncontrold, And boast the rites of freedom, Oh view the tender’s loathsome hole [hold] Where droops your injured seamen,” runs a “seditious” song seized in the Nore mutiny. It proceeds to protest that it is “ shame to boast your tars’ exploits Then damn those tars to slavery.” It has been justly remarked that nothing gives a better idea of the capacity of the British officer than the fact that such material was reduced to order and loyalty, in the face of injustice so great and of a general disregard of the seamen’s interests by Parliament. It should also be noted that there were no such repeated murderous disorders as occurred in the French navy; and that, when under serious provocation the men did rise in mutiny, they displayed a remarkable measure of self-restraint, and refused to open communications with the enemy, the only exceptions to this general rule being one or two outbreaks where the Irish element was powerful. The fact that such officers as Duncan and Patton in 1796 and 1797 were drawing the Admiralty’s attention to the need for reform shows that the seamen had real and deep grievances.

Their treatment in the service was bad. While allowance must always be made for the peculiar necessities of war, they were yet subject to much ill-usage at the hands of the officers. Warrant officers carried rattan canes with which to “start” the men, as it was called; and captains could inflict up to 48 lashes of the cat-o’-nine-tails without any right of appeal. Courts-martial inflicted sentences of as many as 500 lashes, which virtually meant that the culprit was killed with torture. The pay was low and generally in arrears; the food was not good, though there had been a sensible improvement since the days of the American War; the share of prize-money accorded to the seaman was small, and by the chicanery of the Admiralty Courts was usually withheld for years. As a general rule, leave was refused to the crews when in port for fear of desertion; and the married men rarely or never saw their wives and families. The sick and wounded were neglected; the maimed in battle

were turned adrift to starve or beg. On the other hand the capable among the men of the lower deck had better prospects of promotion than in the reformed and reorganised navy of the present day. The officers were not then drawn from a limited class; any seaman with capacity and courage might rise. There was, it is true, a tendency to confine high promotion to men of birth and rank; yet several of the grea,t officers of this period were humbly bom. Among the famous “ band of brothers ” who won such glory in the campaign of the Nile were men who would have been excluded under the present nomination system. Parker, the leader of the Nore mutiny, had been a midshipman, and had been reduced to the ranks. There was a practice of interchange between the officers of . the British navy and merchant service which may explain certain measures of the French Assembly.

As a general rule the British officers were men of high character and great capacity, animated with a spirit of zeal for the service, trained in the American War, and professionally unmatched in any navy which has ever existed. The officers in the senior ranks had attained to great reputation and acquired experience in the handling of ships in the junior ranks. The perpetual change between the merchant service and the navy, and the elastic system of education and entry, prevented any such stereotyping of ideas or development of formalism as has undoubtedly accompanied the growth of most modem navies.

Among the officers were an unusual number of men of genius. Head and shoulders above all others was Nelson, at the date of the opening of the war a senior captain, but only 34 years of age, and in the very prime of manhood. Contemporaries of his, all of great capacity and merit, were Collingwood, Cornwallis, Saumarez, Pellew, and Troubridge. Among the senior officers were three great men, Lord Hood, Adam Duncan, and Sir John Jervis, soon to be better known as Lord St Vincent. Lord Howe was an able officer, but was at this date too old for hard work at sea, though he was unusually popular with the men. Where the French could find no capable admirals,, the British nation had a dozen at its call; and this fact brought victory despite the mismanagement of statesmen, the indifferent strategy of the Admiralty, and the defective administration of the ports and dockyards, where corruption was rampant.

The British navy had thus a great advantage as against the French in the possession of experienced commanders—and in war, as Napoleon has said, “ men are nothing, a man is everything ”—while its admirals’ actions were usually inspired by sound ideas of strategy. Two principles which spell success in war are to be found in the plans of Nelson. The first was the principle of the annihilation of the armed forces of the enemy. Not the mere winning of battles, the capture of some few prizes, but the complete destruction of the hostile fleets was his aim ; and he counted no victory as worthy unless this object were attained. His regret after the

1793-8] The methods, strategy, and tactics of Nelson. 455

Nile at the fact that some shattered fragments of the French fleet had escaped his forces is the truest indication of his greatness as a naval officer, since the commander must be judged by the manner in which he uses his victories. This same principle of the complete annihilation of the enemy had been grasped by Drake; but it was novel in the eighteenth century, until the rise of Napoleon, who put it into practice in warfare on land. The germ of it was contained in the Admiralty instructions which directed British commanders to “take, bum, and sink” the enemy; but by no one was it practised at sea with such energy and remorse­lessness as by Nelson. Unlike Howe, Bridport, and Colpoys, he was indifferent to the damage or loss which his ships sustained in carrying out this principle, though as a prudent leader he always endeavoured in framing his plans to obtain the result desired with the minimum expen­diture of blood and material. The second principle in which he shone above the seamen and soldiers of his own day was in his encouragement of initiative in his officers. Thus he led into battle men trained to reason, with the result that in each of his battles the subordinates at critical moments displayed the invaluable quality of asking, not what they were ordered to do, but what action the spirit of the orders required to attain success. The orders issued by Nelson were clear and complete, but they were not paralysing; they did not go into detail; they were “directives,” not formulas to be mechanically obeyed. His success was thus due to science and a correct comprehension of the unchanging principles of war.

As the strategy of Nelson, which is typical of the best in the British navy, was good, so also were his tactics inspired by deep reflexion and accurate judgment. His dominating idea in action was to crush a part of the enemy’s force by superior numbers. This idea he applied in all his battles with the single exception of Copenhagen, where, however, he may have considered that the gunnery preponderance of his fleet was sufficient for his purposes, without any attempt to concentrate superior numbers against the Danes. He disdained precedents, and never paid any attention to the old tactical idea, which was that when two fleets joined battle they should form into two lines and engage ship to ship, with the natural consequence that, if force was evenly distributed on the two sides, no decisive result followed. It would seem that his ideas were inherited from Hood, who had wished to put them into practice in the American War and in Golfe Jouan in 1794.

The unpreparedness of the British navy at the outset led the Admiralty to adopt a policy of merely watching the enemy; but gradu­ally, as the navy grew in numbers and training, this strategy was replaced by determined attack. The forces of the French were to be brought to battle and destroyed. When those forces would not fight, but remained in port, as it was found dangerous to leave them unmasked, the policy of blockading the hostile ports was adopted, but only after long delay and

late in the war, since a thoroughly efficient navy was requisite for its execution. At the beginning of the war the weakness of the British navy and the large force required to protect British shipping pre­vented decisive action when the French fleet was in a hopeless state of disorganisation, though a series of great naval victories or a close blockade of the French ports in 1793-4 would have speedily terminated the struggle by reducing France to starvation.

In the earlier years of the war the British navy had the support of numerous allies, since the Spanish, the Portuguese, the Dutch, and the Neapolitan navies, were all acting in cooperation against France. The Spanish navy, however, at this date was no longer a serious force; the ships were good, but the equipment and the crews were beneath contempt. The same might be said of the Neapolitan navy, while the Dutch fleet was too weak to weigh heavily in the scale. Portugal added six ships of the line and four frigates to the Coalition; and these were of some value as they were officered in part by Englishmen. The Spanish navy consisted of 76 ships of the line, of which 56 were in commission, while the frigates and cruisers numbered 128. They gave at least an appearance of strength. The Neapolitan navy mustered four battleships, a few frigates, and a large number of small gunboats. The Dutch navy consisted of 49 ships of the line, of small size and inferior condition, but useful in shallow water, with 60 smaller craft. Thus the total strength of the Coalition was about 210 effective ships of the line, outnumbering the French by three to one, but devoid of unity of control and command, and lacking sympathy in ideas and aims.

The naval war in its earlier stages falls geographically into two campaigns, the northern in the Atlantic and the Channel, the southern in the Mediterranean, while outside Europe operations of minor im­portance were directed by England against the French colonies. The Mediterranean campaign will be treated first.

In the summer of 1792 the French government ordered the con­centration of a squadron in the Mediterranean to cooperate with the French army in the war against Sardinia. This squadron of nine battle­ships under Rear-Admiral Truguet captured Oneglia in October. The next operation was an attack upon Sardinia with 5000 troops, in which Napoleon Bonaparte took part. On the night of February 15, 1793, in an attempt on Cagliari, the troops were seized with panic and fled, declaring that they were betrayed by their officers, whom they threatened to hang. At Maddalena there was a not less discreditable failure, owing to the cowardice of the seamen and the troops. Bonaparte himself, when he returned to Bonifacio, was assailed by the crews with cries of “Hang the aristocrat.” This expedition, though of small military importance, illustrates the difficulties which beset French commanders. After these operations the French fleet returned to Toulon and there

remained in port, as the outbreak of war with England and Spain left it in a position of dangerous weakness.

When war was declared, the British fleet in the Mediterranean was composed of small craft without a single ship of the line; and there was great delay in the despatch of reinforcements from England. Not until June were 19 vessels of the line concentrated in the Mediterranean under Vice-Admiral Lord Hood. In July, having received further rein­forcements, Hood appeared before Toulon with 21 ships of the line to blockade the 17 French sail, which were known to be ready in the port. Some weeks later, on August 22, two French commissioners came off to his flag-ship, claiming to represent the Sections of Marseilles, and proposed to him an alliance, the object of which was to be the re­establishment of the French monarchy. Hood required that the port and fortress of Toulon should be placed in his hands, and that the French squadron there should be put out of commission and handed over to him, to be restored to France on the conclusion of peace. The Toulonnais, in danger of starvation if the British blockaded the coast, acceded to his proposals; and, early in the morning of August 28, British seamen occupied the forts at the entrance to the harbour, while in the course of the same day the British fleet entered the port. The French ships offered no resistance, though there was great fermentation among the crews. Admiral Trogoff, who commanded the French squadron, was in sympathy with the anti-revolutionary party, and ordered other French vessels at various points on the southern coast to move to Toulon and there surrender; but in this he was not obeyed.

Just when possession had been gained of the place, the British fleet was joined by 17 Spanish sail of the line under Admiral Langara. Subsequently the Neapolitan fleet arrived with a small force of troops; and these again were followed by various Sardinian detachments. But the presence of so many nationalities with varying aims and each jealous of the other, and the divided command, militated against the successful defence of the place. No large British expeditionary force was available, though Nelson had very judiciously remarked a week before the surrender that a great fleet was useless off the Toulon coast without troops. The revolutionary government at once took steps to recapture the port and concentrated a strong force against it. If the quality of the French troops was bad, the unity of direction compensated for faults of equip­ment and discipline. The French formed the siege of the town on the land side, while day by day they received reinforcements which enabled them to attack vigorously. On the other side, the allies were backward in sending troops, and Hood dared not deplete his ships of seamen. He was indeed obliged to send to Malta for 1500 Maltese seamen to replace the men he had landed. In December the French, directed by Bonaparte, stormed Fort Mulgrave, which commanded the entrance to the harbour. It was evident that the defence of the port could not be much prolonged,

and the various allied commanders met in a council of war to decide upon the course to be taken.

At this council it was decided that Toulon should be evacuated, that the inhabitants should be removed, provided they wished to leave the place, that the French ships of war should either be withdrawn or destroyed, and that steps should be taken to put these measures into execution that same night (December 17). Langara promised to under­take the destruction of the French ships in the inner harbour; the British undertook to attend to those elsewhere. On the 18th the troops, where they did not retire precipitately of their own accord, were with­drawn from the advanced positions, ready to embark; and the Republican army closed in upon the doomed town. The Spaniards, however, whether from deliberate treachery, of which they have been accused by some British authorities, or from the difficulty of their task and the incom­petence of their officers, which are more probable explanations, failed to complete their work of destruction; and the British, badly seconded by them, were unable to bum all the French ships. In all only 9 ships of the line were thoroughly destroyed, and 4 more were brought away by the British, leaving the enemy 14 efficient ships at Toulon; 4 had previously been sent away with French seamen of the Republican party to Brest. Thus, of 31 ships of the line which Toulon had contained, 18 were saved‘to France, and 13 ships of the line with 9 frigates lost, still further reducing the strength of the French fleet. Nelson, early during the occupation of the place, had urged the removal of all the French warships; but this measure could not be carried out because of the opposition of the Spaniards and the want of crews to navigate so large a fleet. On the recapture of Toulon, which took place on December 19, most of the anti-revolutionary party among the inhabi­tants were massacred, though nearly 15,000 men, women, and children had escaped in the allied fleet.

During the defence of Toulon a small British squadron had been detached to blockade Corsica; and early in 1794 a British force dis­embarked on that island. Mainly through the efforts of Captain Nelson, Bastia was taken on May 22, and on August 10 Calvi capitulated. The island passed under the influence of England. Meantime at Toulon the French authorities exerted themselves to the utmost to repair the damage which had been done to their ships, and to equip a squadron capable of acting against the British. They were so far successful that in June, 1794, a squadron of seven sail of the line under Rear-Admiral Martin put to sea with orders to cruise along the coast, for the purpose of training the crews. Hood, who was off Corsica, at once proceeded in chase of the French with thirteen ships and drove them into Golfe Jouan, where he intended to attack them, but was prevented from carrying out his purpose by bad weather and the strength of the French batteries ashore. The French fleet returned to Toulon, and there remained while

its personnel melted away. Complete disorder reigned in the harbour; the crews, having no stomach for fighting without pay and with but little food, not unnaturally deserted, till at the opening of 1795 there were but 2724 seamen left. This remnant of a great fleet, however, was speedily reinforced, since, owing to the bad dispositions of the British Admiralty and the ineffective watch kept upon the forces at Brest, the French were able to send six ships of the line from Brest to Toulon without molestation.

The situation of the British fleet in the Mediterranean now became critical. Hood in vain pleaded with the Admiralty for reinforcements and more attention to his material needs; but his letters were dis­regarded, and finally he received an order from London to strike his flag. His successor was the feeble Vice-Admiral Hotham. The fleet continued in a wretched condition; the men were mutinous, and a serious outbreak occurred in the Windsor Castle. Her crew assembled on the lower deck, demanding the removal of certain officers, which was granted them. The ships were ill supplied with provisions and stores, and there was a shortage of 1400 men among the complements.

On March 3, 1795, Admiral Martin put to sea from Toulon with fifteen ships of the line, having received orders to essay an attack on Corsica, for which purpose he had embarked 6000 troops on board. His crews were made up in great part of soldiers and landsmen ; most of his gunners were untrained; and the state of discipline was still miserable. He might have been expected to fall an easy victim to the British fleet, which sighted him on March 12, fourteen ships strong. Hotham, how­ever, did not order an instant attack; and next day, when he signalled a general chase, the only ship that seriously attacked the French was Nelson’s Agamemrwn. She assailed the French ship of the line, the fa Ira, which had lost two topmasts through a collision; but as she received no support from Hotham, and was indeed ordered by signal to rejoin the bulk of the British fleet, her enemy escaped for the day. On the 14th the fa Ira, with another vessel which had her in tow, was cut off and captured. The remainder of the French retired. Hotham failed to profit by his subordinate’s energy, though Nelson went on board the flagship and did his best to induce the admiral to follow up the success. “We must be contented; we have done very well,” was Hotham’s remark, in a phrase which has become historic. Thus was one of the greatest opportunities in British naval history flung away, by a commander whose appointment was one of the gravest blunders committed during the war. The half-hearted, scrambling, indecisive action showed how inefficient even the British fleet could be under an indifferent leader, and showed also what credit is due to Nelson, St Vincent, and Duncan for their victories.

Though the complaints of the fleet were bitter, Hotham remained in command, and lost a second opportunity on July 13 of the same year.

The Admiralty had now sent out reinforcements; for, after Hood had been driven from the command, it was found that he had been perfectly reasonable and judicious in his request for more ships and in his appre­ciation of the situation. But with twenty-three British ships against seventeen French Hotham once more hesitated to attack. When he did close his onset was half-hearted, and only resulted in the destruction of a single French ship. Allowing for the defective condition of the French vessels and their want of trained seamen, it would be difficult to discover a worse performance on the part of the British navy than these two battles. The failure of the British to achieve a decisive victory in the Mediterranean had disastrous results, as it facilitated the conquest of Italy by the French and so led to the rise of Napoleon. It was indeed fortunate for British interests that in November, 1795, Hotham was replaced by Vice-Admiral Sir John Jervis. Yet the change was not made because of any perception in London that Hotham was a complete failure; on the contrary, there is evidence to prove that he was still considered “well qualified to command,” and that the weakness of his health was the only cause of his supersession.

On the arrival of Jervis steps were at once taken to improve the discipline of the fleet, which had fallen to a low ebb; officers were sharply directed to attend to their professional duty; constant exercise with the great guns was enjoined; fleet tactics and station keeping received great attention. At the same time Jervis showed the able officers of his squadron, men such as Nelson and Troubridge, that his eye was upon them; he gave them every scope for action and was liberal of praise. Under this skilled direction the moral of the fleet rose rapidly, and a close and efficient blockade of Toulon was maintained; while Nelson was detached from the main body of the fleet to annoy the French and to blockade the coast of northern Italy. With insufficient force and without the numerous small craft required for such work he was not, however, able to interfere seriously with their communications.

In the course of the summer of 1796 the French successes in Italy and the growing hostility of Spain augmented the difficulties of the British fleet. Jervis had obtained his supplies from the Italian coast; and, when that fell under the influence of the French, it was not easy to keep his crews in good health. In August, 1796, the Spanish govern­ment concluded the Treaty of San Ildefonso with the French government, and became the ally of France. Placed geographically as Spain was upon the line of communication of the British fleet, the difficulty of maintaining that line was now much increased, though little military danger was to be apprehended from the ill-manned squadrons of the Spaniards. The Spanish fleet at once escorted clear of the Mediterranean a French squadron, which had been lying at Cadiz blockaded by a British division under Admiral Man. Man was ordered by Jervis to join him off the Corsican coast; but he did so without taking in provisions at

Gibraltar, and had no sooner met Jervis than he was compelled to go back to obtain supplies. He returned to Gibraltar, was chased by the Spaniards on the way, lost nerve, and sailed off home, instead of rejoining Jervis. His conduct met with no adequate punishment; for, though he was ordered to strike his flag and was never again employed afloat, he was soon after made one of the Naval Lords of the Admiralty, and employed in directing the strategy of the fleet which his weakness had so gravely imperilled.

As it was, the Spaniards with twenty-six sail moved to Toulon, though they ought to have been strong enough with proper handling to have beaten Jervis, who was greatly inferior in ships of the line. At Toulon they were joined by twelve French sail of the line, raising their total force to thirty-eight battleships and a large number of frigates. Jervis, in the face of such odds, had no course before him but retreat. He evacuated Corsica, and with his whole fleet and a large convoy of merchantmen reached Gibraltar in safety in December, 1796. Not for eighteen months did the British navy show itself in force in the Mediterranean, which was thus, owing to the behaviour of Man, given over to the enemy. The abandonment of the Mediterranean left Italy at the mercy of France, and led every ally of England to distrust her. The strategy that permitted such weakness on so vital a station was thoroughly defective; for at this date England had upon paper 160 ships of the line, which should have given her a marked advantage against France, Holland, and Spain combined, at any point, while the number of men borne in the fleet in the year 1796 was no fewer than 112,382.

It was now the turn of the French and Spaniards to throw away their opportunities. For some weeks they had Jervis at their mercy, but they did nothing. Early in 1797 Jervis moved northwards from Gibraltar, after many minor mishaps to his fleet, escorted a convoy on its way to Brazil, and then received reinforcements, which brought up his strength to fifteen sail of the line. With this force, late on February 13, he sighted a Spanish fleet, twenty-five ships of the line strong, off Cape St Vincent, on its way round from the Mediterranean to Cadiz, but blown by the strong gales far to the west of its destination. The enemy were under Admiral Don Jose de Cordova, an officer of excellent reputation. They had chased Nelson, who was on his way back from a mission to the Mediterranean to remove the naval depot at Elba. He rejoined Jervis’ fleet in the afternoon of the 13th; and Jervis signalled to his squadron to clear for action.

At dawn of the 14th the British fleet formed in two columns; and, as the morning mist lifted off the sea, the Spanish fleet came into view to the south. The wind blew from the west. Though the Spaniards were clearly in superior force, Jervis resolved to attack, and bore down upon them, still in two columns. The Spanish fleet was in great disorder, nineteen ships in one group, to windward, and a smaller group of six

ships to leeward, endeavouring to join the main body. Jervis’ tactics were to cut in between the two groups with his fleet and attempt to overpower the larger. Just before 11 a.m. the signal was made for the British ships to form in single line ahead. The Culloden led the van, and as she neared the gap in the enemy’s line which had just been crossed by three Spanish ships, found a fourth in her way. But Troubridge, her captain, would not draw back, and with the words “ Let the weakest fend off,” held on his course. The Spaniard yielded before him; he broke the line about noon, as he passed through the gap in it, pouring two double-shotted broadsides into the enemy with such precision that it was said afterwards they had been fired as “ if by a seconds’ watch, and in the silence of a port-admiral’s inspection.”

The two portions of the Spanish fleet were thus separated by the interposition of the British line moving southwards, and it now remained to reap the fruits of this manoeuvre, by concentrating on a part of their force. Just as the Culloden broke through the enemy, Jervis made the signal to his ships to tack or turn in succession northwards, so that the van ships in the British line after passing through the gap might renew the encounter with the main body of the enemy. At this signal Troubridge gave a second proof of his seamanly judgment, for just as the flaghoist floated to the yards of the Victory, the Culloden repeated the signal, showing that she had it ready and was waiting for it. She tacked so sharply that Jervis cried in delight, “Look at Troubridge there! He tacks his ship to battle as if the eyes of all England were upon him.” Behind him the ships of the fleet followed his example, exchanging fire meantime with the Spaniards. The British fleet was now in the midst of the turn, in a line V-shaped, with the main body of the Spaniards passing eastwards above the left arm of the V, so that there was risk of their effecting a junction with the smaller body. At this juncture Nelson, whose ship, the Captain, was last but two in the British line near the head of the right arm of the V, and whose turn to tack and move north would not have come for some minutes, saw what ought to be done, and did it without awaiting any signals, thereby giving proof of an initiative as necessary in the subordinate as it is rare. He wore his ship, turned out of the line, and flung himself boldly upon the leader of the Spanish fleet. It was an act of extraordinary judgment and independence, for at that date initiative in the junior officer was not always kindly viewed by his superiors ; captains and admirals had been cashiered or reprimanded for breaking from the line of battle. But Nelson knew exactly the kind of enemy with which he had to deal; years before, his observant eye had noted that it took the Spaniards about twenty-four hours to form line of battle. His con­duct made the engagement decisive; without it the battle of St Vincent would have brought no prizes, though the credit of confronting with success a far superior fleet would still have remained to Jervis.

Nelson’s onslaught on the Spanish fleet threw the enemy into complete confusion—a confusion so great that one of the vessels he attacked was found after her capture to have the tompions still in the muzzles of several of her guns—conclusive proof that these had never been cleared for action or discharged. He closed, and in succession fired into the Santisima Trinidad, on which the white flag is said to have been hoisted, but which afterwards escaped; into the San Josef, the Salvador del Mundo, and the Sam Nicolas. Most of these vessels were of double his weight of broadside; and, but for the fact that he had perfectly gauged the quality of his opponents, he might have heen charged with criminal rashness. For some instants, too, he was left unsupported. His action was so bold and unprecedented that it may well have taken the ships astern of him by surprise. Collingwood, his lifelong friend, followed him speedily, and the Culloden and Blenheim also came quickly to his aid, and not before it was time, as the masts of the Captain were already shot away or tottering, and the rapidity of her fire had been reduced, owing to the exhaustion of the ammunition which had been collected on deck before the opening of the battle. The Spaniards were driven back, and compelled to abandon their intention of effecting a junction with the smaller body of their fleet. Collingwood forced the Salvador del Mundo to strike, but without troubling to take possession of her, attacked another enemy, the San Ysidro, and brought down her flag. Nelson meanwhile drove his shattered Captain upon the San Nicolas, boarded her, and with brilliant dash captured her; then, passing from her to the San Josef, which was entangled with her, carried that ship too, assisted by the fire which the Prince George was pouring into her.

About this point the battle was broken off by Jervis. He directed his fleet to prepare to bring to and cover the four prizes taken. The enemy were still left with 23 ships of the line, many of which had not been engaged, and two of which had arrived during the battle, so that, had the Spanish admiral shown energy, or had his crews been capable of making an effort, the case was by no means hopeless. Of the British fleet five were severely cut up, and would have fought at a great disadvantage. But the Spaniards made no attempt to renew the action; and the British formed a close line-ahead, secured the prizes, set to work to refit them, for they had been dismasted in the conflict, and remained all night in this posture, repairing damage. At daybreak of the 15th the two fleets were still in presence of one another; and, according to Spanish authorities, Cordova offered battle, which was declined by Jervis. This is probable, for Jervis had not attained to the ideal “not victory but annihilation,” and he perhaps thought in Hotham’s phrase that he had “done very well.” But the battle had proved the utter incapacity of the Spanish navy and had shown that little was to be feared from its ships, whatever their numbers. The

British admiral, too, must have learned, if he had cared to make enquiry from the prisoners, that the greater part of the Spanish crews were landsmen, who fought against their will, who wept when ordered aloft, and declared that they would prefer to be killed on the spot rather than face a horrible death in so perilous a service as handling the sails. When the Spanish admiral saw that the English were unwilling to fight he did not persist in forcing battle upon them, but edged off and returned to harbour. He was dismissed from the Spanish navy for his feeble conduct, declared incapable of again holding any command, and interdicted from residing in the capital or in any of the great naval ports of Spain.

The British loss in the battle was 73 killed and 227 severely wounded, the Captain, Culloden, Blenheim, and Excellent suffering most. The Spanish loss is not accurately known, but must have been considerable, as 603 men were killed or wounded in the four ships captured. The forces opposed at the beginnir g of the action were 15 British ships of 13,100 lbs. broadside to 25 Spanish of 19,980.

The credit for the victory rests in large measure with Nelson, for Jervis does not appear to have had any clear idea of what he intended to do; and, had his orders been rigidly executed, the result must have been quite indecisive. In its moral effects the success was of great importance. The news of it reached England at a moment of acute depression, when the cry for peace was being raised and when specie payment had been suspended. Though there was no mention whatever of Nelson’s conduct in the official despatch, his name was in every mouth. So competent a judge as Hood declared that he had immor­talised himself, while the press complained that he exposed himself too much, showing that the nation had already come to hold his life a precious one. Jervis received a peerage, with the title of Earl St Vincent; Nelson the order of the Bath; some days before the news reached England he had been promoted in the ordinary routine to Rear-Admiral.

The British fleet followed up its victory, as soon as repairs had been made, by blockading Cadiz, and was thus engaged when the mutinous movement in the navy, which had begun in England during March, reached it. St Vincent repressed all signs of disaffection with extreme vigour and severity, and there was no serious trouble; but in the boat encounters with the Spaniards it was noted that the men hung back, and did not fight with alacrity, though St Vincent attributed their mis­behaviour in part to the “ base cowardice ” of the officers in charge. Be this as it may, the results came near disaster, as Nelson on one occasion was badly supported and was in consequence all but taken by the enemy. Nelson was next employed in a coup de main against the Spanish island of Teneriffe; but there, on July 24-5, he met with a severe repulse, losing 251 men killed, drowned and wounded, and himself receiving a dangerous wound, as the result of which his right arm had

to be amputated, and he was compelled to return to England. St Vincent meantime maintained with energy the blockade of Cadiz. The net result of the campaign in the south up to the opening of 1798 was that the British had been forced from the Mediterranean, had been unable to inflict a crushing defeat upon either the French or Spanish forces in the south, and had been compelled to leave the French squadron at Toulon unwatched.

In the north of Europe, down to the beginning of 1797, no decisive victoiy was achieved by the British, and French squadrons moved backwards and forwards in the Atlantic without any great difficulty, convoying vessels from the French West Indies and covering the coasting traffic. In July, 1793, Admiral Lord Howe was despatched with a fleet of fifteen ships of the line, afterwards raised to seventeen, to watch the French fleet under Morard de Galles, which was cruir.ing in the Bay of Biscay, about seventeen sail of the line strong. Howe sighted this fleet near Belleisle on July 31, and was in its presence for two days; but the weather was unfavourable, his ships were slower than the French, and he could not bring on an engagement. On his part, Morard de Galles had so much trouble with his crews that he did not think of fighting, though on paper his fleet was stronger than Howe’s; and he was*compelled, in part by want of supplies and sickness among his men, in part by an insurrectionary movement among the crews when they learned of the occurrences at Toulon, to return from Quiberon, where he had put in for supplies, to Brest. The men pretended to think, or, perhaps, really believed, that his object in taking the fleet to sea was to deliver it to the British.

The strength of the French squadron had now risen to 21 ships, but of these only four obeyed the admiral; five obeyed at times, and the other twelve were openly mutinous. The conduct of the men filled the Committee of Public Safety with rage, for, though the revolutionists had begun by destroying all discipline, they were now discovering the untoward consequences of such a policy. Four com­missioners, of whom the most famous was Jean Bon Saint-Andrd, were despatched to Brest to reestablish order. Their first proceeding was to put to death, after trial before a revolutionary tribunal, many French officers and seamen of republican sympathies who had been sent round by the British from Toulon, where their presence was dangerous, as they could not be nduced to espouse the cause of the Bourbons. The next step was to remove Morard de Galles, who was a competent if not a brilliant officer, and who had distinguished himself in the most glorious days of the French navy, under Suffren. He was reproached with failure to repress the insubordination of the men, though it was the Republican government which had destroyed discipline, by allowing disorder among the men to pass unpunished and by failing to support officer after officer who had conscientiously striven to recall the crews to their sense of duty.

Rear-Admirals Le Large, Landais, and Kerguelen, with whom there was no serious fault to be found, and a number of captains, who appear to have been among the best officers in the fleet, were removed from their ships, and in some cases sent before the revolutionary tribunals and put to death.

The whole fleet having thus been thrown into fresh confusion and deprived of the officers who had been acquiring experience under Morard de Galles, it remained to find new leaders. Four new admirals were appointed; a junior captain, Villaret-Joyeuse, was promoted Rear- Admiral and Commander-in-chief, under the delegate Jean Bon, who virtually had arrogated to himself the command; three other junior captains, Martin, Comic, and Vanstabel, were made Rear-Admirals. Before this reorganisation was complete a force of six ships of the line was sent under Vanstabel from Brest to intercept a squadron, which, the French government learned, was proceeding from England to Toulon, with a large convoy of troop- and store-ships. The information proved inaccurate, but Vanstabel was able to effect the capture of a part of another important British convoy, on its way home from Newfoundland, thus inflicting considerable loss upon the British. Less satisfactory from the French standpoint was the return to Brest at the dose of the year of Rear-Admiral Sercey, who had been sent to the West Indies on the outbreak of war, to escort home French shipping in that quarter of the world, but had been compelled to return with his mission unfulfilled, owing to delays caused by the civil war which had broken out in San Domingo and the mutinous conduct of his crews. It was due to the remissness and unpreparedness of the British that he was able to recross the Atlantic unmolested, for the state of discipline in his ships was such that no dependence could be placed on his seamen. A close blockade of the French ports by the British would have been the surest method of preventing the French fleet from acquiring experience at sea, covering the importation of supplies, and attacking British commerce.

During the early months of 1794 the attention of the French government was concentrated upon the safe arrival of a great convoy, laden with provisions, which had been freighted by the French Minister in the United States. Owing to the anarchy caused by revolutionary measures, cultivation of the land had greatly diminished throughout France, and a large part of the population was in danger of starvation. To protect the passage of this convoy Vanstabel was sent from Brest at the close of 1793 with a division of battleships. The British navy ought to have strained every nerve to intercept the French, and the surest method of stopping them was to cruise off the French ports in strength. But this was what Howe did not care to do; he was cautious, advanced in years, and sincerely convinced that any fleet which blockaded must rapidly deteriorate in material and moral. His great object, says his biographer, was “to save the wear and tear of his ships ”

and not to destroy the enemy. His policy caused much discontent in England, and the press of the day attacked him bitterly, nor, it would seem, without justice. It is, however, only fair to add that in 1794 he was hampered by orders to escort several convoys.

Howe put to sea early in May, 1794, with 32 ships of the line and 15 smaller craft, having in his charge the convoys. When he had escorted them to the Lizard he divided his force; with 26 battleships he cruised off Brest, awaiting the arrival of the French convoy, of whose movements he had received information, while he sent six ships under Admiral Montagu to take the convoys to the Spanish coast. He cannot have watched Brest closely, for while he was to the west of Ushant a fleet of 26 French sail of the line slipped past him from that harbour, under the command of Admiral Villaret-Joyeuse. The French were in some degree favoured by fogs; but, had the British cruisers been more alert or the dispositions better studied, so large a force could never have evaded Howe. News of what had happened reached him through an American vessel; and so completely did he lose touch of his enemy that for a week he hunted for them in vain. On May 25, however, two cruisers of the French fleet were seen, chased, and captured; and moving north-east, to the quarter from which they had appeared, on May 28 he saw a large fleet. The sea was rough, and a strong wind was blowing from the south-south-west. Howe at once ordered his ships to prepare for battle and closed upon the enemy in two divisions, with a flying squadron of four ships, which had orders to attack the French rear.

The French formed line of battle, but badly and slowly. Having no desire to accept an action and leave Howe in the path of the convoy, they made sail tp draw the British away to the south-east. Howe fell into the trap and pursued. A scrambling action followed between the leading British ships and the stemmost of the French, but neither side inflicted any disabling injury upon the other. The French Revolution- naire and the British Audacious dropped away from their respective fleets; and the Revolutionnaire might have been captured. As three British ships were standing after her and pressing her closely, Howe signalled to them to abandon the pursuit and rejoin the fleet, forming order of battle in line-ahead. Owing to defects in the code of night signals he did not learn that she was completely crippled. During the night he followed the French till in the general chase his ships lost all semblance of a line and the fleet had to reform at daylight of the 29th. The French had been reinforced in the night by the arrival of another ship of the line, which, however, had to be detached to convoy the Revolutionnaire. An attempt was made by Howe to attack and crush the French rear, passing on opposite tacks. The French met this manoeuvre with counter-manoeuvre and sustained no serious damage, in part because of the misconduct of the ship Caesar, which led the British line, and was slow in closing. The morning passed in desultory,

resultless firing, and seeing that in this way there was no prospect of obtaining a victory, Howe ordered his fleet about 1 p.m. to pass through the French line and get to windward. The Caesar was again slow in obeying, and made no attempt to break the French line; the other ships in the British van, with one exception, the Queen, failed even to dose with the enemy; and the Queen, after closing, found that there was no chance of breaking through—so well did the French support each other, and such injury did their fire inflict upon her.

It was left to Howe himself, in his flagship the Queen Charlotte, to set the example, and show his followers the way through. Coming tenth in the British line, he forced his ship through the French line, near the rear, but he was only followed by two British ships. His manoeuvre, however^ seriously threatened the ships in the French rear, and compelled the French van to turn to its support. The movement of the van rescued the threatened ships, but not before they had received serious injury; and a second time the fleets drew apart for the night, without any decisive success having been obtained by either. On this day, how­ever, Howe had shown judgment and firmness; his failure was due to the disobedience of his van ships. In the British fleet the Queen was much damaged; the French had to send the Indomptahle back to Brest under the escort of another ship of the line; a third ship of the line could not go, about, and parted company with the fleet; a fourth was dismasted and had, to be taken in tow. Thus the French fleet had been reduced during the 28-29th. from 27 vessels of the line to 21 efficients, while the British force had only fallen from 26 to 25, though of these 25 many had suffered considerable damage. Not only this, but Howe had worked to windward of the French, and now, if he chose, could force a decisive battle upon them. If he had had with him the six ships, detached under Montagu, he should have been able to strike a deadly blow and to annihilate the French. As it was, on the 30th four ships of the line joined the French and brought their efficient strength up to 25, while Howe’s detachment was still absent. Thus he was once more on a footing of equality with his foe.

All the 30th and morning of the 31st the weather was foggy; and, owing to difficulties in the transmission of signals, neither fleet could fight. The fog lifted on the 31st, and the British closed once more on their antagonists, but could not reach a position near enough for battle until the evening; and Howe, not caring to take the risks of a night action, and knowing that many of his captains lacked experience, drew off a little. Dining the night the French, whose ships sailed better than the British, also drew away, but not enough to enable them to avoid an encounter. On June 1 each side formed in line, the British in line- abreast, the French in line-ahead, and Howe signalled the order to his ships to pass through the enemy’s line, raking the vessels in it as they passed. He intended his whole force to strike the French line

simultaneously; and, to achieve this, his advance upon the French was slow. His object in breaking their line and getting to leeward of them was to prevent the escape of their disabled ships and to use his lower-deck guns with more effect. Once more the conduct of the Caesar attracted unfavourable attention; at the left extremity of the British line, a place of honour, she showed no eagerness to close with the enemy, and opened fire at an excessive distance, throwing her shots away.

Slightly in advance of the fleet the Queen Charlotte with Howe’s flag reached the French line about 9.30 a.m., but at a point three ships away from Villaret-Joyeuse’s flagship, which Howe desired as a matter of etiquette to engage. He stood along the French line, till he found his quarry; then he forced his way through the line, brushing the French flagship’s stem, while one by one the British guns were fired into her hull, with terrible effect. The Jacobin, close to Villaret-Joyeuse, failed to give the French admiral any support and weakly retired. The conflict was now general along the line, and the movements of the two combatants were wreathed in smoke. There was no effort on the part of the British to concentrate upon a portion of the French fleet and destroy it; on the contrary, his ships were ordered by Howe each to pick out an antagonist. The battle resolved itself into a number of ship combats, with little unity of design or direction. One of the fiercest of these combats was that between the French Vengeur du Peuple and the British Brunswick, which grappled each other and fought broadside to broadside. In this encounter the British had the upper hand, owing mainly to the fact that they were equipped with flexible rammers for their lower deck guns. When the ships were touching, the French found it impossible to load their lower deck guns with the ordinary ramrod. After three hours’ fighting the two separated, leaving the Brunswick disabled and the Vengeur desperately injured. The Vengeur was assailed by another British ship, and all her masts were shot away; towards the evening it was evident that she was sinking, and she made signals of distress. Some four hundred of her men were rescued by the British; the others sank with the ship; and it appears to be the truth that those who perished perished with the cry, “ Vive la RepubUque,” though they did not, as has been pretended, refuse to surrender.

Many of the French ships retired from the line early in the action and failed to support their admiral; many others were dismasted and dropped behind the main body of the two fleets in action, both drifting before the wind. Seeing that his fleet was scattered, Villaret took his ship out of the battle to leeward and signalled to the rest of his force to collect round him. This carried him away from his injured ships and left the British fleet between him and them; but the British, now that they had gained a great advantage, failed to make the fullest use of it, and only won a success which Nelson, not without reason, qualified with the stinging phrase “a Lord Howe victory.” Of the 12 French

vessels which had suffered seriously and lost more than one mast, five eventually escaped. The Vengeur was sunk; six others were captured. Howe felt fears for his fleet, as the French still showed fight and turned fiercely upon the Queen, which in a damaged state had dropped away from the other British ships. She was only extricated from Villaret’s attack by the approach of the main body of the British fleet. Howe was moreover an old man, and was physically exhausted by the strain pf many days of chasing and battle. The Culloden and Thunderer, while pressing after two disabled French vessels to secure them, were recalled by signal, and the rest of the French fleet was permitted to escape. The British loss in this series of battles was 290 killed and 858 wounded severely; while the French are estimated to have lost 5000 men in tilled, wounded, and drowned, though in this figure the losses in the captured ships are included. In weight of metal the French were superior, in numbers equal.

The enemy on the afternoon of June 1 were in a position of decided inferiority; of the 18 ships which remained with Villaret, four were unmanageable and only nine in good fighting order; while the British had at least 15 efficient ships without counting their prizes. A resolute pursuit would then and there have ended the days of Villaret’s squadron. But as it was, Howe bore away for a dockyard, and Villaret did the same. On his way back to port the French admiral was sighted off Brest by the squadron under Montagu, which Howe had detached before the battle, and which had subsequently been reinforced to a total of nine sail of the line. Instead of keeping at a moderate distance and harassing Villaret, which with his uninjured ships would not have been impracticable, Montagu retired to England. On June 12, two days after Montagu had withdrawn, the French convoy, which had been the immediate cause of the battle, entered Brest. Thus the British had failed completely in attaining their strategical object, and had only very imperfectly attained their tactical object—the defeat and destruction of Villaret’s force. On the whole the French had no reason to be greatly dissatisfied with this campaign. Their fleet, notwithstanding the dis­organisation caused by the Revolution, had confronted the force of Howe without suffering complete disaster, and had secured the safe arrival of the great convoy in France.

In the autumn of 1794 Howe put to sea with his fleet, after a mutiny in the Culloden had been suppressed and punished with severity, to escort various important convoys clear of the Bay of Biscay. He looked into Brest; but no fighting resulted. In November the French Admiral Nielly sailed from Brest with the object of intercepting a British convoy homeward bound, but did not succeed in doing this, though he fell in with the British 74-gun ship Alexander, and captured her. In December Villaret-Joyeuse received orders to put out and escort southwards a division of six ships which was destined for the Mediterranean, and the

arrival of which at Toulon some weeks later caused Hood so much uneasiness. Though the British in no way interfered with Villaret, the French ships suffered seriously from the bad weather, defective material, and the inexperience of the crews. The Republicain was lost while getting out of Brest; three vessels sank at sea owing to the damage done to their spars, rigging, and hulls in the battle of June 1; a fourth ran ashore to escape the same fate; two others were compelled to make for the nearest harbour to obtain supplies; and the six ships destined for the Mediterranean, which were the only units in the squadron properly provisioned, had to tranship to Villaret’s vessels so large a quantity of their stores that they were unable to undertake the voyage to Toulon and were compelled to return with Villaret to Brest. Seventy merchant­men were captured from the British; but this was the only result achieved by risking the fleet. The squadron for the Mediterranean filled up with stores and succeeded in getting away from Brest on February %% 1795; eight days earlier Howe had put to sea with a large fleet, but he made no attempt to blockade the French closely, and speedily returned to Spithead, leaving his enemy free to go whither they listed. The bitterness of the French towards the British was indicated by a decree passed in December, 1794, by the Convention, which ordered that no British or Hanoverian prisoners were to be taken. In practice, however, this order was uniformly disregarded by the French navy, as steps were taken on the part of the British to meet it with reprisals.

For some months after its disastrous cruise Villaret’s fleet remained in Brest in a battered condition without sufficient men to take the ships to sea. In May, 1795, however, it was once more in a condition to undertake operations; and a small squadron under Rear-Admiral Vence was sent into the Bay of Biscay to escort northwards a French convoy. Vence and his convoy were encountered on June 8, off Cape Penmarck, by Vice-Admiral Cornwallis with five British ships of the line and three small craft. Cornwallis’ mission was to keep a watch upon Brest; he captured several of the convoy and drove Vence under shelter of the batteries of Belleisle. Hearing of this Villaret put to sea from Brest with nine sail of the line and a number of smaller ships, and attempted to cut off Cornwallis. On June 16 he sighted the British detachment and at once gave chase to it. The admirable nerve and seamanship of Cornwallis brought off the British force intact. The French showed timidity in attacking, notwithstanding their great advantage in numbers. Cornwallis was thanked, not undeservedly, by both Houses of Parliament for his conduct on this occasion.

Villaret was returning to Brest from his unsuccessful chase, when on June 22 he was sighted by the main British fleet under Admiral Lord Bridport, who had temporarily replaced Howe and was covering the disembarkation of a French royalist expedition at Quiberon. The French fleet was twelve sail of the line strong, the British main fleet

fourteen strong, while three more ships were detached under Commodore Sir John Borlase Warren to cover the landing at Quiberon. Yillaret, in the face of such odds, with ships under his orders which paid no attention to his signals, could do nothing but retreat; in the chase that followed his less efficient ships fell to the rear; on June 23 the Alexander was recaptured by the British off lie de Groix; the French Formidable was set on fire and compelled to strike; and the Tigre was also taken. In the opinion of good French officers the whole of the French fleet might have been captured, if Bridport had displayed energy and determination; but he was content with his three trophies and allowed Villaret to retreat to Lorient. There the French remained till the winter, when they returned in twos and threes to Brest. As the coast was now clear, de Puisaye with 2500 emigres landed at Quiberon on June 27, and captured Fort Penthievre, but his victory was short-lived, since on July 20 the fort was recaptured, and all who could not escape by sea were massacred. During this campaign the British seized the small islands of Houat, Hoedic, and Yeu, off the French coast, but failed in attempts to secure Belleisle and Noirmoutier. Yeu was only held for a few months. Bridport remained at sea until the autumn, and then returned to winter in port, according to the practice of the navy in the earlier years of the war. Discouraged by these events, the French government determined to abandon the policy of risking fleet action for the command of the sea, and decided to use small squadrons for the attack upon British commerce.

In 1796 the French, now assured of the assistance of Spain and Holland and freed from all uneasiness as to the Vendee, prepared to attempt an invasion of British territory; though in view of the fact that the British had everywhere asserted their naval superiority and had even succeeded in seizing and holding the islets of St Marcouf, w thin sight of the Norman coast, the chances of carrying out such a project were but small. So far back as September, 1793, instructions had been given by the Committee of Public Safety to prepare at Brest for the disembarkation of a force of 100,000 men on the British coast; but owing to the weakness of the French navy this order had remained a dead letter. In 1796, however, General Hoche took up the project of invasion, and pressed it under two distinct forms. The first was to land a small force of guerillas, recruited from criminals and bad characters, who would simply effect a diversion; the second was an expedition in force, which the Directory decided should be directed against Ireland, then on the eve of rebellion.

An elaborate and complicated project was drawn up in June, 1796, by the Directory, which provided for the following expeditions: (1) against India, where a small force was to be landed to aid Tippoo Sahib; (2) against Ireland, where the fleet destined for India was to disembark 5000 men in Connaught; (3) another expedition with 6000

Hache's expedition to Ireland.

4Y3

men was to follow to the same quarter from Brest; (4) from Holland a third expedition, 5000 men strong, was to be directed on Connaught; (5) guerilla detachments were to be landed in Wales and Cornwall, as diversions. But the French navy was not given clearly to understand that these expeditions against British territory were of great importance; on the contrary it was allowed to suppose that the expedition to India was the primary interest, so that preparations were made for this and not for the Irish enterprises. Hence arose conflicts between Hoche and the French Admiral Villaret-Joyeuse. In the autumn of 1796 Hoche made a journey to Basel, where he met the Irish insurrectionary leaders, Lord Edward Fitzgerald and Arthur O’Connor, and on his return from this interview his plans were modified. There was to be but one expedition to Ireland, accompanied by a guerilla diversion on the English coast. The force employed was to be 20,000 strong, and instructions were issued in October to Villaret, giving the French navy orders to make ready for the expedition to Ireland; but at the same time the naval authorities were informed that the project aga'i f.i India had not been abandoned.

Up to this point the navy at Brest had been preparing for a distant expedition, and now great changes had to be made in the fittings of the ships, so as to permit of the conveyance of a large body of men for a short distance. Hence there were fresh delays and more quarrels between Hoche and Villaret, who might justly have complained of the want of concentration of purpose on the part of his superiors at Paris. Hoche was at length directed to choose another admiral as commander of his naval force; and he selected Rear-Admiral Morard de Galles, who was experienced, but old, short-sighted, and lacking in decision. The state of the fleet was deplorable. Of 16 ships of the line nominally ready at Brest, on November 19, few were prepared to set sail; and no instructions had been given to the captains. Everything was in “ utter disorder,” according to Hoche’s own words. 13,897 men were, however, embarked; and, after waiting until Admiral Richeiy, who had just returned to Brest with a small squadron from a campaign in New­foundland waters, was ready for sea, the flotilla set sail on December 16, numbering 17 battleships, 13 frigates, and 15 other vessels. The main British fleet was at that moment wintering at Spithead, under the command of Lord Bridport; a detached squadron under Admiral Colpoys, 13 sail strong, was cruising to the west of Brest; while closer in to the French port was a detachment of five frigates and light craft under Captain Sir Edward Pellew. On December 15 Pellew sent off a ship to tell Colpoys that the French were coming out; on December 16 another vessel followed on the same mission; on December 17 a third was despatched to England. But at the critical moment when the news reached England, Bridport, through the negligence of the Admiralty, was left without instructions, which delayed his sailing for some days.

Thus the strategic policy of keeping the British fleet in harbour during the winter instead of blockading the French ports, combined with the slackness at headquarters, gave the French an opening of which, fortunately for the British, they were able to make but little use, owing to the bad discipline of their fleet and the irresolution of their commanders.

Morard de Galles’ instructions were to avoid fighting, and pursue tactics of evasion. On leaving Brest he had ordered his fleet to make use of the Raz passage; but, as night fell and the wind blew strong, he changed his mind and pushed through the Iroise channel. Only a fraction of his fleet knew of this change of plan and followed him; the rest of the ships, paying no attention to his signals, and confused by deceptive signals which Pellew made, with the express purpose of misleading the French as he clung to their force within half-gunshot, entered the Raz passage, which is of extreme difficulty. From their want of training the French ships fell into complete disorder. One vessel of the line struck a rock and was lost; and though the others safely made the passage of the Raz, when they reached open water they found that the flagship with Morard de Galles was not in sight. The instructions in case of separation were to make Mizen Head on the Irish coast and there cruise for five days. When Mizen Head was reached the greater part of the expedition was found there, but Morard de Galles and Hoche were missing. They had embarked in a frigate, and, being chased by a British vessel, had been driven far to the west. Rear-Admiral Bouvet, the senior French naval officer, gave orders to enter Bantry Bay, but was only obeyed by a part of the force, either because of bad seamanship or deliberate disobedience. On December 22, 16 vessels entered Bere Haven; 19 remained outside the harbour, and on December 23 had disappeared, scattered by storms.

The ships which entered the harbour carried only some fragments of the expeditionary force; Hoche and Morard, who had the plans and the money, were still missing; and Grouchy, the senior military officer, could dispose of but 6382 men with 8 unhorsed guns. Nevertheless he ordered a disembarkation on December 24i, when the weather, which had been unfavourable throughout, became so stormy that to effect a landing was out of the question. On December 25 several of the vessels in the bay either drove from their anchors or had to weigh and put to sea, among them Bouvet’s flagship. Those left in the bay followed their example after a short delay. Bouvet hovered off the coast for a few days and then on December 29 steered for Brest, short of provisions. Meantime other detachments of the expedition entered Bantry Bay and there remained, waiting in vain, till January 6; when, as Hoche did not appear and nothing more was seen of the main body of the expedition, they withdrew, and returned to Brest. As for Hoche and Morard de Galles, they were unable to approach the Irish coast, owing to easterly

winds, until December 29, when off Bantry Bay they fell in with two French ships, one in a sinking condition and the other engaged in removing the crew and troops from her. From them the commanders leamt of the retreat of Bouvet from Bantry Bay; and, encumbered with men and short of stores, they determined forthwith to return to Brest. They anchored off the lie d’Aix after being chased by the British and aarrowly escaping capture, on January 13. Thus was England delivered from what Wolf Tone declared with but little exaggeration to have been her greatest peril since the Armada.

On learning that the French expedition was at sea, Bridport’s sailing was delayed, as has been seen, till January 3,1797, when he steered for Brest but failed to intercept the French retreat. Colpoys, who should have prevented the escape of the French fleet from Brest, had moved too far from that port; and, when he did hear on December 19 that the enemy were at sea, he made no effort to find and attack them, perhaps in part because he had the misfortune to sight a French squadron on its way round from Toulon to Brest, and chased it. This drew him away from the Irish expedition. Finally he was caught in a gale and compelled to run to Spithead. But though the French thus evaded the main British forces, they suffered heavy losses from collisions with British single ships and frigate detachments; of the 45 vessels which set sail from Brest seven were taken, while no fewer than six were wrecked or foundered. Such a heavy loss from defective material or bad seamanship is the clearest evidence of the fact that the French navy was at this date unfit to undertake so serious an enterprise. A report, compiled from the statements of the captains, showed that the crews were badly clad and unable to face the cold, and that they behaved mutinously. Some ships were lost at sea because the men could not or would not shorten sail. As for the British fleet, while the individual ships were excellently handled, the strategy and generalship that permitted French vessels to lie in or off Bantry Bay continuously from December 20 to January 6 without molestation have excited well-merited censure. Nor were ade­quate preparations made on land to concentrate a strong force against the French.

The diversion which the French authorities had planned was even less successful than Hoche’s expedition. A force of convicts and deserters, 1500 strong, was placed under the orders of an American adventurer, Colonel Tate, and embarked at Brest, with orders to destroy Bristol or Liverpool. A landing was to be effected in Cardigan Bay. On February 22, 1797, the force disembarked from four ships on the Pembroke coast, but there it was at once surrounded by British yeomanry and militia under Lord Cawdor. The ships withdrew and it could not reembark. Without any fighting it surrendered.

Two other French expeditions to Ireland, in which the French navy cooperated, may be mentioned here, though both took place in 1798.

The first was the despatch under General Humbert in August, 1798, of 1099 men embarked in three frigates. The object was to assist the insurgents in Ireland by giving them the support of a nucleus of trained soldiers with a large supply of ammunition and arms. The expedition sailed from Rochefort on August 6, and standing far out into the Atlantic, reached Ireland unobserved, disembarked the troops on the 22nd, and returned without misadventure to Prance. Humbert’s force was too weak to effect anything serious and was landed in a remote comer of Mayo, where the French found no adherents; yet it marched far into Ireland before it was met by superior forces and compelled to surrender, on September 8, at Ballinamuck. The second expedition had been originally intended to sail from Brest simultaneously with General Humbert’s force, but was delayed, as the government could not provide a month’s advance pay for the troops, who were in a pitiable state. When the money was found, the British fleet closed in on the port; and an attempt to put to sea on August 20 had to be abandoned. On September 16, however, the British were out of sight, as their main fleet had retired to Torbay; and on that day 10 ships, eight of which were of the frigate class, under Commodore Boinpard, with 2884 troops under General Hardy, and a large supply of stores and ammunition for the Irish insurgents, put to sea from Brest. On the 17th Bompard was seen and chased by cruisers detached from Bridport’s fleet, and Bridport was informed that the enemy were at sea. The French were followed and watched by three British frigates until October 4; and during this long chase news was sent by the British senior captain to Ireland that the Irish coast was the destination of the expedition. Bridport, as soon as he learnt of the French movement, despatched three ships of the line and five frigates under Commodore Sir John Borlase Warren to intercept them. On October 11 this squadron sighted Bompard to the west of Tory Island, and, after a long pursuit, attacked him on the 12th, capturing four of his ships. Three more were taken in the next few days, and the three which were left could effect nothing and returned to France. Bompard, and the Irish leader, Wolfe Tone, were among the prisoners taken by the British in the captured ships. A third small expedition, despatched from France in October under Commodore Savary, reached Sligo Bay, but there learning of the failure of the other expeditions hurriedly returned to France, and regained Rochefort in safety.

During the early months of 1797 the British fleets in home waters were completely disorganised by mutinies at Spithead and the Nore. In February petitions were sent by four ships in the Channel fleet to Lord Howe, who had just relinquished the command of that fleet and possessed great influence among the men. No attention was given to them, as Bridport reported that there was no serious feeling of discontent; but in

April, when the Channel fleet returned to port, fresh petitions were received by Howe, complaining that, while provisions had increased in price by 30 per cent., the pay of the seaman remained at its old figure. It was pointed out that the seamen had been overlooked when the pay of the land forces and militia was augmented. The men protested that their requests for better pay were not prompted by any spirit of dis­affection or sedition; “on the contrary, it is indigence and extreme penury alone that is the cause of our complaint.” On April 12 the Admiralty received news from Admiral Parker, commanding at Ports­mouth, that a concerted scheme existed for the seizure of the Channel fleet on April 16. In a despatch to the Admiralty on April 15 Bridport expressed the hope that the fleet would not be ordered to sea till some answer had been given to the men’s request. When on that day the fleet received orders from London by semaphore to get under way, the crews mutinied, ran up the rigging and cheered, and elected a parliament of delegates from each ship. Vice-Admiral Sir Alan Gardner picked out the best men and argued with them, but without effect; and the admirals reported that it was impossible to think of vigorous measures against the seamen. On the 16th the mutineers informed their officers that they would wait two days for a reply from the Admiralty, and, if none arrived, would put their officers ashore. A document detailing the men’s grievances was drawn up by the delegates of the fleet; it showed the need of increased pay, asked for better quality and full weight in the provisions issued, required that the sick should be better cared for, that the wounded should be paid until they recovered or were discharged, and that leave to go on shore should be given when possible. There was nothing unreasonable in these requests; and in the position in which England then stood it was of the utmost importance that they should have been promptly granted, as day by day the mutiny spread and began to assume a more threatening aspect. It was clearly a concerted and organised movement, though the organisers are hot known.

Four members of the Admiralty Board went down in great haste to Portsmouth, and on April 18 and 20 gave assurances to the mutineers that their grievances in the matter of pay should be remedied. The men, however, required the King and Parliament to sanction the pro­posals made by the Admiralty and to grant a general pardon. On this Admiral Gardner declared with impolitic violence that every fifth seaman in the fleet should be hanged—thus proving that the men had not with­out good reason required an act of oblivion. A scuffle resulted, but no harm befell anyone; indeed, throughout, in the words of an officer of the fleet, the “men conducted themselves with a degree of prudence and decency which I thought them incapable of.” Further concessions were inevitable; and on April 23 Bridport was able to inform the men that the full redress of all grievances had been conceded, and that the King had granted his pardon to all concerned in the mutiny. Many

unpopular officers had by this time been put ashore, especially those who had ill-treated the men. Among the men’s complaints, as showing what occurred in some ships, was one to the effect that in the Nymphe three dozen lashes with the cat-of-nine-tails had been given for “silent con­tempt,” which meant smiling after being flogged by the boatswain’s mate, and that the lieutenants in the same ship regularly beat the men with the end of the fore-brace, a rope 4 in. round. In the Marlborough the crew asserted that two quartermasters were hung up to the rigging with their hammocks on their shoulders for an hour and a half in cold weather, and that a man had died from flogging and ill-treatment at the hand of Captain Nicholls—an officer whom the Admiralty ultimately removed.

On the 24th part of the fleet dropped down to St Helen’s, the men expecting to receive the news that Parliament had voted the grant necessary for the increase in pay. But no such news arrived. The Admiralty preserved an attitude of secretiveness; in the House of Lords all mention of the mutiny was deprecated, while in the House of Commons there was delay in voting the supplies. Indiscreet speeches were made in Parliament; and on May 1 the Admiralty issued an order directing officers to use the most vigorous means to ensure proper dis­cipline and subordination. There was a minatory ring in this order which alarmed the men and led them to think that faith was going to be broken by the Admiralty. On May 7 the mutiny broke out afresh, as the fleet refused to obey Bridport’s order to put to sea. Most of the ships were seized without much resistance from the officers; but, on the delegates of the fleet proceeding to the London, which carried the flag of Vice-Admiral Colpoys, a conflict ensued, an officer was wounded, and the marines fired upon the men, with the result that there was loss of life, five of the men being killed or mortally wounded. Lieutenant Bover, who gave the order to fire, was seized; but even in the heat of the conflict the men granted him a hearing, and though a rope was placed round his neck they did him no harm, when Colpoys came forward and declared that he had only obeyed orders. Colpoys himself was threatened with death, and was confined on board, but in the end was allowed to go. On May 9 copies of the vote of Parliament granting the increase in supplies were received, but did not allay the ill-feeling. The extra­ordinary step was therefore taken by the government of sending down Howe, with full power to redress all grievances. He arrived at Ports­mouth on May 11—none too soon, for there was talk in one of the ships of sailing into Brest. On the 13th he induced the crews to express contrition for their conduct, in return for which he removed the unpopular officers, of whom 34 were of and above lieutenant’s rank, announced the King’s pardon, and persuaded the men to put to sea. Fifty boats manned with seamen escorted him back to shore, and delayed the sailing of the fleet. Bridport complained that there was “ no end to his difficulties ” as the result of the shock that discipline had received.

The Spithead mutiny ended on May 17 with the sailing of the fleet. There was a similar outbreak, similarly met, in a detached squadron of the Channel fleet under Admiral Curtis, which was lying in Torbay and which came round to Spithead in defiance of all orders, remaining at Portsmouth after Bridport had sailed. There was also sporadic trouble in the fleet throughout the summer and autumn, and there are obscure traces of a political conspiracy to compel the government to make peace. Yet throughout the mutinies the men protested their readiness to fight, if the French put to sea, and made no attempt to keep in port the frigates charged with the protection of British commerce. Admiral Patton appears on the whole to have been right in declaring that the mutiny was caused by the men’s hardships and not by “ revolutionary principles.”

At the Nore and in the North Sea fleet, which was then under Admiral Duncan, watching the Dutch fleet, a yet more serious outbreak occurred. On May 2 four of the North Sea ships hoisted the red flag while lying at the Nore, sent their officers ashore, and anchored across the Thames, beginning a semi-blockade of the port of London. The trouble appeared at Yarmouth and infected the rest of Duncan’s fleet. The mutinous ships at the Nore were day by day reinforced; they elected committees and delegates, and on May 14 chose as their leader Richard Parker, who had formerly served as midshipman, had been degraded by court martial for insubordination and discharged as unfit for service in

1794,       and had just rejoined the navy as a “quota” man. They put forward demands far in advance of those of the crews of the Channel fleet, requiring that leave should be given to the men in port as matter of right, that prize money should be more evenly divided, and that the articles of war should be recast and their penalties mitigated. At the same time they insisted that the Admiralty Board should come to Sheer­ness and treat with them. The Channel fleet having returned to obedience, the Admiralty refused to grant these demands, but offered a pardon to the crews if they were withdrawn. The seamen, however, declined to submit, fired on the fort at Sheemess, moored their ships, which in early June had risen to 26 in number, across the river, enforced a strict blockade, stopped 150 colliers and helped themselves from these vessels when all supplies were cut off. The Admiralty Board went down to Sheemess, but, finding the mutineers quite impracticable, took strong measures. Parliament, on June 6, passed two Acts directed against the mutineers, one of which forbade all communication with the fleet;

15,000     troops were collected on the coast; the fort at Tilbury fired on the seamen; the buoys and beacons at the mouth of the Thames were removed; the batteries on the river were directed to heat the furnaces and use hot shot if necessary. There were reports that the mutineers intended to carry the ships over to the French coast; but these do not seem to have had any real foundation, as the delegates bound themselves

by oath to have no dealings with any “Jacobins,” protested their loyalty, and on the King’s birthday fired a royal salute. As the result of the government’s vigorous measures the mutiny collapsed; and, not without some bloodshed, the vessels concerned in it submitted one by one. Parker was arrested on board the Sandwich on June 14, which was the last day of the mutiny. Twenty of the delegates escaped to France in small boats, but the rest were seized and brought to trial. Parker, with several others, was condemned to death and executed; many were flogged round the fleet; and 180 were detained in prison till the victory of Camperdown, when they were pardoned by the King. At his execution Parker protested against the ill-treatment to which the seamen were too often subjected by their officers. It was held by some naval officers that this particular mutiny was due to political intrigues and the incitement of an extreme section of the Opposition; but of this no definite proof has as yet been discovered.

Other minor mutinies occurred in 1797 in the Mediterranean fleet and in the squadron on the Cape station, but were suppressed without much trouble. In the West Indies, however, there was a horrible out­break on board the frigate Hermione, whose crew, on the night of September 22, rose, killed in cold blood ten of the officers, and carried the ship into the Spanish port of La Guayra, where they delivered her into the hands of the enemy. In one or two other ships on foreign stations there were similar plots, which did not, however, succeed. The feeling of discontent and disaffection lingered on in the navy for many years, and caused some uneasiness on the eve of Trafalgar.

It has always been a source of surprise that the French government made no use of these mutinies to strike at Ireland or England, since after the return of the French ships from the unhappy expedition to Bantry Bay in 1797 there were 30 ships of the line and 14 frigates at Brest under Admiral Villeneuve. These ships, however, were short of men, having only 15,616 officers and men on board, whereas their full complement should have been 23,928. The state of discipline was bad; and there was a general want of stores and equipment. Nothing what­ever was attempted before the end of June; and the opportunity was allowed to pass, never to recur. An explanation of this inactivity may perhaps be found in a letter of the French Minister of the Navy to Hoche in June, 1797, wherein he states that in the existing condition of fermen­tation in England it would be unwise to attempt an invasion, as this would unite the nation in resistance to the invaders; England was to be left to work her own ruin. But, as the same letter adds that the argument does not apply to Ireland, the French inaction is not entirely explained.

The mutiny in the North Sea fleet might well have led to disaster had the Dutch been able to put to sea during its continuance. In 1795

the Batavian Republic joined the enemies of England;,, and concluded a treaty with France, which contained the stipulation that Holland should place 12 ships of the line and 18 frigates at the disposal of France. The Dutch fleet, though ill-equipped and not too well affected to the French, had thenceforth to be closely watched; and this duty was undertaken by Admiral Duncan with the North Sea fleet, assisted by:a Russian squadron under Admiral Hanikoff. The work was performed with complete success all through 1795 and 1796; in the autumn of 1796 plans were made by the British for an attack on Texel Island, but owing to bad weather it was impossible to execute them. The danger from this quarter grew greater, when a large force of men was collected on the Dutch coast and a beginning was made at Dunkirk with the construction of a flotilla of small craft by a Flemish officer in the French service, Captain Muskeyn. In May, 1797, at the date of the Nore mutiny, the Dutch fleet was reported to the British government to be preparing for sea, with 42 large transports. The secret information added that there was little doubt that an invasion was contemplated. Orders were at once issued to Duncan, then lying at Yarmouth, his base, to blockade the Dutch or bring them to action. The Russian fleet was under orders to return to Russia and could not be employed. Duncan, owing to the mutiny, could only induce 12 of his ships to put to sea, and being detained by calms off Yarmouth was deserted by all of these except two, the Adamant and his flagship, the Venerable. By his tact and decision he kept the crews of these ships loyal at a most critical moment, though he had great trouble with a mutinous section among the men. With the two ships he boldly undertook the blockade of the Texel, in which were lying 14 Dutch sail of the line.

The Dutch do not appear to have been aware of his weakness, as it was the British custom when blockading only to keep one or two ships close up to the hostile port, and the others within signalling distance, but out of sight of land. They were, too, troubled with disaffection among their officers and seamen, while the French authorities did not bring pressure to bear to secure the sailing of the fleet until June 21. On that date the Directorate urged that the ships at the Texel should put to sea as speedily as possible for Ireland with 20,000 men. At the same time 6000 mien were to sail from Brest in 12 ships of the line. After five days of great anxiety, from June 5 to 10, in which Duncan asserted his determination, if attacked, to sink with his two ships in the fairway, the peril passed and he was reinforced. All through the summer the blockade was effectively maintained until September, when, ^paring that the Dutch ships had disembarked their troops, he returned to Yarmouth, leaving only a small squadron to observe their movements.

He was at Yarmouth when on October 9 a cruiser brought him the news that the enemy under Admiral de Winter had put to sea. They had sailed with the intention of disembarking a force on the Clyde, and so

impelling the British government to recall its troops from Ireland. On the eve of their departure Hoche, the life and soul of these enterprises against Ireland, had died of tuberculosis. The fleet was sent out to oblige the French government, notwithstanding the protests of.de Winter, who had repeatedly insisted on the utter futility of an isolated encounter with the British for an object which he considered chimerical. On October 11 the Dutch, 16 ships of the line strong, were sighted off Camperdown by Admiral Duncan, who also had 16 ships. A strong wind was blowing from north to north-west; Duncan was moving south­west, while the Dutch were standing north-eastwards towards the Texel, so as to bring a friendly port under their lee. In a straggling line they confronted the British fleet, which after giving chase and closing with them, formed in a slanting line abreast, parallel to the Dutch fleet, so as to strike, simultaneously all along the Dutch line. At 11.25 a.m. Duncan signalled to his ships each to select and engage an antagonist. He made no attempt to concentrate superior numbers upon a detail of the enemy; and in this his tactics represent the common procedure of the British navy before Nelson showed the better method. But at 11.53 he issued another order which stamps him as a capable and daring leader; his ships were to break through the Dutch line and engage to leeward. The movement would place the British fleet in the line of the Dutch retreat and render a decisive battle certain; it also gave some tactical advantage, since in stormy weather the ships in the windward line would experience difficulty in opening their lower deck ports, and would find that the guns ran out by gravity, after the recoil, before they could be secured and loaded. On the other hand, with the strong wind that was blowing, Duncan risked losing disabled ships on the dangerous coast, not far distant.

The battle of Camperdown, or Kamperduin, was not, as had been planned, a mere ship-to-ship encounter. Whether by mistake, as the result of the hoisting of an incorrect signal in the flagship, or by instinct, the British, when they struck the Dutch line, effected a concentration upon the rear, with the result that the enemy’s resistance in that direction terminated after an hour of fierce fighting, in which the loss on either side was very heavy. Some of the Dutch ships struck, others fled from the line. The British ships disengaged by this success moved up towards the centre, where Duncan was bearing the brunt of the battle with a small group of ₍ships, and was as yet making small headway. The British Venerable and Ardent were in great peril; the Ardent lost one- third of her crew, and the Venerable had so many hits betwixt wind and water that the pumps could scarcely keep the water under; when a fire broke out in the Dutch Hercules, it was at first supposed in the British fleet that the Venerable was burning. But with the arrival of the victorious British ships from the Dutch rear the pressure on Duncan ■was removed and the battle in the centre inclined decisively against the Dutch. Soon after 3 p.m. the firing died away along the Dutch line,

1797-8]                     Bonaparte's plans for invasion.                  483

and the Dutch flagship Vryheid, with Admiral de Winter on board, lowered her colours. ^: .

Of the 16 Dutch ships nine were taken by Duncan, while two Dutch frigates were also secured by him. Seven ships of the line escaped, one or two bolting ignominiously from the conflict, but in a very damaged condition. The British fleet was considerably superior in weight of metal, with a broadside of 11,501 lbs. to the Dutch 9857. The losses -as returned were in the British fleet 203 killed and 622 wounded, and in the Dutch fleet 1160 killed and wounded.

The Dutch losses, however, were never accurately known, and the figure given includes slightly wounded who were not counted in the British returns; the casualties were therefore probably about equal on either side. The Dutch prizes captured were in a shattered condition, while the victors also sustained great damage. The victory destroyed the fighting power of the Dutch navy and dispelled all fear of an invasion from Holland. In August, 1799, the work achieved at Camperdown was completed by the despatch of a combined expedition to Holland, which captured the Texel and twelve remaining ships of the Dutch fleet without bloodshed. '

Soon after the defeat of the Dutch at Camperdown the French government once more turned its attention to the invasion of England, and in October, 1797, appointed Bonaparte, then fresh from his Italian victories, to command the French expeditionary force. Early in February,

1798,       Bonaparte visited the French coast near Calais, despatching other of his most trusted officers to examine other points. As the result of his journey he matured the idea of employing a flotilla of small craft; but his final conclusions were that to effect a landing in England without oeing master of the sea would be the “most temerarious and difficult operation ever attempted,” that the French fleet was then unequal to such an enterprise, and that the enterprise could only be accomplished Tjy surprise. He pointed out that much time must elapse before the necessary preparations could be completed, suggested that the best method of procedure would be actually to renounce all idea of an expedition against England, while still appearing to prepare for it, and advocated, as a means of compelling the British to make peace, an expedition to the Levant, which would threaten British commerce. This report was drawn up on February 23, 1798, and was the precursor of the Egyptian expedition.'

The British navy in this period was not less successful in its minor than in its major operations. Throughout the war isolated ship encounters occurred, in which almost without exception the British had the upper hand. Some of their victories were won with consummate ease, owing, no doubt, to the complete disorganisation of the French as the result of the Revolution.' ^: Thus in four single ship actions at the opening ot the war the British took their opponents without themselves losing a life,

and inflicted in these four instances casualties of 81, 51, 42, and 20. In some cases the small loss of the British was due to the French practice of firing to dismast, which brought defeat on the French in action after action. But the French shooting was always so bad that French captains were able to make little use of the superior construction and better lines of their ships. As for the Spaniards, they were worse seamen than the French, and their hearts do not appear to have been in the war with England, so that they proved feeble antagonists.

By interrupting communications between the various colonies of the nations at war with England and the mother-countries, the British navy facilitated the reduction of most of the foreign possessions of France and Holland. At the close of the eighteenth century great economic importance attached to the West Indies; and it was there that the most important conquests were made. When war broke out between France and England, the British were called in by the Royalists of San Domingo and occupied Jeremie, St Nicholas-Mole, and Leogane with­out resistance. The French island of Tobago was also captured by the British in 1793. In the following year a combined expedition under Vice-Admiral Sir John Jervis and General Sir Charles Grey attacked Martinique and mastered that island without any great difficulty, fol­lowing up this success with the conquest of Santa Lucia and Guadeloupe. Guadeloupe, however, was retaken by, the French, on the arrival of croops from France, as at this date the French coast was not closely blockaded and it was possible for considerable expeditions to cross the iea unobserved.. Other successes were obtained by the British in San Domingo. But in 1795 the French in Guadeloupe, receiving further reinforcements, took the offensive, and succeeded in capturing Santa Lucia and stirring up troublesome insurrections in Dominica, St Vincent, and Grenada. In 1796 the British forces; in the West Indies were strength­ened and the tide turned; Santa Lucia was reconquered; St Vincent and Grenada were reduced to order. Possession was also taken of the Dutch colony of Demerara; while in 1797, when Spain joined in the war against England, Trinidad was wrested from her, and an unsuccessful attack was made upon Puerto Rico. In 1797 and 1798 the towns in San Domingo, of which the British had taken possession, were handed over to the negro general, Toussaint l’Ouverture. In 1799 the most important Dutch colony that remained in this part of the world, Surinam, was captured.

On the Newfoundland coast, possession was taken of the French islands of St Pierre-Miquelon on the outbreak of war. In the East Indies the French colonies were captured without difficulty in 1793; and in 1795 the Dutch colonies; of Ceylon and Malacca and the scattered settlements on ,the Indian coast were overpowered by small conjoint expeditions. Amboyna and the Banda Islands were seized in 1796. The Dutch half-way house to India, Cape Town, was attacked in August,

1795,       by a British expedition under Vice-Admiral Sir George Keith

Elphinstone with a small body of troops; and, on the British receiving reinforcements from India, the Dutch capitulated in; September. There was some insignificant'fighting on the-Sierra Leone coast and on the Madagascar coast between the British and the French.

A certain want of strategy and■ method is manifest- in the British minor operations. No attempt was made to reduce the French colonies of Bourbon and the Isle of France on the flank of the route to India, whence the French were able to prey upon British East Indian commerce. In the West Indies the successes gained by England were of a precarious nature, owing to the manner in which French squadrons were permitted to cross the Atlantic and to throw in reinforcements. It was not until a rigorous blockade of the French coast was enforced by the British navy that the British conquests in this quarter were finally rendered secure. No attempt was made by the British to attack the important Spanish possession of Cuba, and Puerto Rico was not seriously threatened. The colonies of Spain on the American mainland were in the same way left untroubled, probably because the troops could not be spared to deal an effective blow against them.

A large number of British frigates and corvettes patrolled the Bay of Biscay, where the greatest danger to commerce from the enemy’s cruisers and privateers was to be apprehended. A strong cruiser squadron under young and enterprising officers ranged from Cherbourg to Finisterre, and was supported by other divisions of two, three, or four cruisers, which were found more effective than single ships. Yet notwithstanding the fact that the number of British frigates and corvettes steadily rose, till in 1799 it reached 349, the enemy’s depre­dations on British commerce were serious. In the years 1793-1800, 3466 British merchantmen were taken by the enemy, of which 700 were afterwards recaptured by the British cruisers. The heaviest loss was incurred in the year 1797* A list prepared by Norman, from what data it is impossible to ascertain, shows the following results, year by year, for British merchantmen taken by the French, and French privateers captured by the British, and affords some test of the intensity at various times of the attacks on commerce:

1793 1794 1795 1796 1797 1798 1799 1800

British Merchantmen taken

by the French  352 644 640 489 949 688 730 666

French Privateers taken by

the British '     44 9 23 41 134 136 104 65

The figures in this list do not agree with those given above, which are based on Lloyd’s List.

As the result of these losses the insurance rates on British shipping were raised by the underwriters, and there was a natural tendency for British merchants to give neutral bottoms the preference. But,

fortunately for England, there were no neutral navies strong enough to afford adequate protection to neutral commerce; and the two great belligerents treated neutrals with such severity that the rates of insurance on neutral shipping rose in the years 1797-9 to a higher point than on British bottoms, and thus brought about a reaction. The following were the clearances during the years 1792-1800 from England outwards of vessels, British and foreign, engaged in the foreign trade (the figures give thousands of tons).

1792 1793 1794 1795 1796 1797 1798 1799 1800 British 1561 1240 1382 1145 1254 1103 1319 1302 1445 Foreign 175 187 218 382 478 396 365 414 685

The heavy losses of British shipping in 1797 led to the enactment of the Convoy Act in 1798, forbidding vessels to sail without escort; and this produced a great diminution of captures by the French.

But if British shipping suffered, French shipping by 1799 had vanished from the sea. The French government in its exasperation aimed decree after decree at British trade without effect; but at the same time with singular shortsightedness it plundered and annoyed neutral shipping to such an extent that this shipping avoided the French ports, and French trade was left without outlets or inlets except towards the Continent. Thus, while grass grew in the streets of Havre, the British ship­owner flourished, and British trade expanded under the aegis of the dominant navy. The expansion might' have been even greater had the British strength been more intelligently used, for throughout this war there was no attempt at the Admiralty to work out a comprehensive plan for commerce protection. Yet the trade supplied the sinews of war, and produced that wealth which enabled the nation to hold its own, while France was progressively impoverished, and driven to a disastrous policy of plundering other nations, which meant perpetual war with her neighbours. French 5 per cents in 1797, the year of the mutinies in the British navy, were at 20; British 3 per cents at 49. Marseilles was a city of the dead; the streets of Bordeaux were no longer lighted at night; at Calais the arrival of a ship was so rare an occurrence that crowds poured out to witness it. While the declared value of British exports was .£31,252,836 for the year ending January 5,

1799,       French over-sea trade had practically disappeared, and was repre­sented only by exports aggregating a few thousand pounds.

CHAPTER XYI.

THE DIRECTORY.

The history of the Directory covers a period of four years—Novem­ber, 1795, to November, 1799. Apart from the rise of Napoleon and the national bankruptcy its main interest lies in the failure of the attempt to substitute a constitutional for a revolutionary government.

The Constitution of the Year hi had great merits; it was based not on a priori doctrines or metaphysical theories but on experience. The separation of the legislative and executive functions, the system of indirect and limited suffrage, the division of large towns into separate municipalities, were measures dictated to the framers of the Constitution by their personal knowledge of the events of the Revolution. The one defect justly attributed to it, the denial to the Directors of the power of dissolving or adjourning the Chambers, would not have been fatal had the Constitution fairly started on its career. But this was not the case; quite unconsciously its authors dealt it a fatal blow by the law passed a few days after its completion enacting the retention in the Carps Legis­latif of two-thirds of the Members of the Convention for the first and of one-third for the second year.

Unjust as this law may have been in theory, and impolitic as it proved to be in fact, it appealed with irresistible force to the instinct of self-preservation, the leading motive of the members of the Convention, as of all bodies of men. The one known sentiment of the electors throughout Prance was their desire to be rid of the Convention, while in the southern Departments a further desire was manifesting itself, a desire for personal vengeance. The life of a member of the ex-Terrorist party seeking reelection would not be Worth an hour’s purchase if he fell into the hands of one of the Companies of the Sun or of Jesus. Moreover, a large proportion of the members were poor men, who had years ago lost their former means of living and were now dependent on the Convention for their daily bread. A year or two of peaceful progress might materially modify their present position and give them a fairer chance of a hearing. Under the influence of these considerations, it is not wonderful that the Convention was for once agreed and that the decrees retaining the “ two-thirds ” passed with hardly a dissentient voice. Unhappily, even

the Convention had not fully realised the hatred and horror which its rule had inspired. The Sections of Paris rose in insurrection ; and this insurrection led to a series of events which wrecked the prospects of the new Constitution before it had come into working existence, and perpetuated many of the worst features of the Revolution for four years. First came the interference of the army in civil discord, secondly, the reconversion of the Thermidorian party into Jacobins and the fatal Law of October 25 (3 Brumaire), thirdly,, the formation of the “Two-Thirds” into a party bitterly hostile to the new members, with a temporary majority large enough to enable them to secure five Directors chosen from their own party. Each of these successive steps led directly to the coup d’Hat of September, 1797, and to the destruction of the Republic.

Under the new Constitution the system of election was indirect. The electors, ‘consisting of all citizens over 21 years, able to read and write, and following a trade or liable to taxation, met in Primary Assemblies in each Canton and elected the members of the “Electoral Colleges,” who in their turn assembled in the chief town of the Department, and in ten days of uninterrupted sittings elected Deputies, Judges, and Adminis­trative Officers. In future years (except during the year 1796, when no elections were to take place) the Electoral Colleges were ordered to assemble on April 10; but on this first occasion they met on October 20, to elect the Deputies to the Corps Legislatif, 493 of whom (forming the two-thirds less those to be returned by the colonies) were to be members of the Convention. On October 29 their task was completed ; but only 389 Members of the Convention had been returned, leaving 104 to be co-opted by the elected Conventionalists themselves. The failure to return the necessary number was due to the fact that the members of the Right of the Convention had been elected for many Departments and the members of the Left for few or none. Thus Boissy d’Anglas was returned for seventy-two constituencies, Lanjuinais for sixty-nine, Thibaudeau for fifty-two, Saladin for thirty-six.

The newly-elected “ Third ” were for the most part men of character and reputation; many of them had sat in the Constituent or Legislative Assemblies; others were lawyers of note, former magistrates, Intendants, or military officers, such as, to name a few only, Dupont of Nemours, Mathieu Dumas, Barbe-Marbois, Tronchet, de Seze, Pastoret, and Dumo- lard, the last-named a man gifted with a fatal fluency which brought small advantage to his friends.

The result of the election would have been to give a majority in either Chamber to the Moderate or Constitutional party had it not been for the necessary cooptation of the hundred and four unelected members of the Convention. As all the members of the Right and Centre were already elected, it was possible only to coopt the least obscure or least notorious Conventionalists, but these were sufficient to give the Con­ventional or Revolutionary party a majority, temporary and fluctuating,

but sufficient to outvote the. new “ Third ” and their allies, the members of the Right of the Convention.

Ineffectual in the Chambers, the elections were conclusive as to the state of public opinion throughout the country. The Revolution had undoubtedly benefited many classes, above all the farmers and peasants who formed the bulk of the electors. It had abolished the taille and the feudal dues, and had enabled the farmer to buy the land for which he craved, at an almost nominal price. As Thibaudeau said, the fall in the assignats, while it had ruined the large proprietors and rentiers, had made the fortunes of the farmers. On the other hand there remained bitter memories of the tyranny and exactions of the Representatives on Mission, of the howling Jacobin mobs, of the Revolu­tionary tribunals and commissions, of the guillotine. These were attributed to the Convention and its Committees, while the solid gains were held to be due to the Revolution itself. Liberty, Equality, and the Rights of Man, were terms which had lost all charm; universal ipathy, a hatred of politics, and a longing for peace, had, in the early days of the Directory, succeeded to the fever and enthusiasm of former years; all that the electors now desired was to close the Revolution and to secure their gains against the tyranny of the Convention, and against the return of the King, the nobles, and the clergy, lest these should question their right to the property purchased from the estates of the emigres, the Church, and the national domain. Therefore they returned as their representatives men whom they could trust to give them a settled government under a Republican Constitution.

On October 26 the Convention dissolved itself. On the following day the new body proceeded to elect from among its own number the two hundred and fifty members of the Council of the “ Andens ” : this done, the Chambers separated, the Andens taking possession of the Hall in the Tuileries, in which the Convention had sat, and the Five Hundred of the Manege, the meeting place of the Constituent Assembly. The election of the Directors occupied the next three days. A meeting of the leaders of the Conventional Party, held immediately before the election, had decided that the Directory should be formed of five Members of the Convention, all of whom had voted the death of Louis XVI. The decision was one of self-defence; in view of the general hatred of the Convention shown by the electors, they held it essential to their safety that the executive should consist of men threatened as they were and bound in defending themselves to shield their late colleagues also. A list was therefore drawn up, beginning with the names of the five candi­dates favoured by the Conventionalists, Larevelliere-Lepeaux, Sieyes, Rewbell, Barras, and Letoumeur, followed by the names of forty-four perfectly unknown persons and ending with that of Cambaceres. The election was a first trial of strength between the two parties; the mem­bers of the new “ Third ” voted for Cambaceres and Larevelliere, but the

490

Larevelliere-Lepeauoc. —Rewbell.                    [1795-6

Conventional majority prevailed, and on November 1 the five Directors of its choice were elected by the Anciens. Sieyes declined to accept office on the ground that he was unfitted for the post and was unpopular with every party. The reason was partly true. Sieyeis was unfitted to be one among five rulers; his method was to pronounce his decision epigrammatically; he never condescended to argue or to compromise; he had also a strong personal dislike to Rewbell; and he bore no good-will to the Constitution which had been preferred to a scheme of his own. Carnot, who had been designed for the Ministry of War, was elected in his place; and the Directory was complete.

On November 3 the Directors installed themselves in the Luxembourg Palace and proceeded to appoint their six Ministers, Merlin of Douai, Minister of Justice; Benezech, of the Interior; Delacroix, of Foreign Affairs; Admiral Truguet, of the Navy; Aubert-Dubayet, of War; and Faipoult, of Finance: the last-named was removed three months later, and was replaced by Ramel de Nogaret. In the spring of 1796 a seventh Ministry, that of Police, was created, to which Merlin was appointed; on his return to the Ministry of Justice a few-weeks later he was succeeded by Cochon de Lapparent.

Louis-Marie de Larevelliere-Lepeaux, the first of the Directors to be elected, was an avocat by profession, and had sat both in the Constituent Assembly and in the Convention. He was slightly deformed in person, awkward, ill-tempered, inordinately vain, and a dreary, platitudinous speaker; he had been a member of the Girondist party and still held to their faith and to their prejudices. His prevailing passion was an intense hatred of Christianity and of the clergy; the sight of a priest, to use Barras’ phrase, “convulsed him”; and this hatred was strengthened by his attachment to the sect of Theophilanthropists to be described hereafter. The efforts made by the Constitutionalists to obtain some sort of toleration for the clergy attached him, after a short wavering, to Rewbell and Barras; and thus was formed a permanent majority of the Directors opposed to the Constitutional party. There is so little to be said in Larevelliere’s behalf that it is fair to note his honesty in pecuniary matters and his considerable knowledge of botany.

Jean-Francois Rewbell, before the Revolution a successful Alsatian avocat, had sat in the Constituent Assembly and in the Convention. He had been accused, while on a mission at Mainz, of accepting bribes from the Prussians; and although he had defended himself with sufficient success to escape prosecution, he never freed himself from the suspicions of his colleagues. During his term of office he was constantly surrounded by speculators and army contractors, men, as Carnot said, “ accused of every form of peculation and fraud,” whom he protected and who formed his only intimate society. Whether he joined them in robbing the public purse or whether he successfully speculated with his own money it is im­possible to say; he certainly retired from office with a considerable fortune.

1795-6]                      Barras.—Letourneur.—Carnot.      491

Rewbell’s political opinions were entirely revolutionary. His ideal system of government was a despotism of the type of the Committee of Public Safety; he regarded personal liberty as an absurd chimera; and altogether disbelieved in the virtue or honesiy of politicians. These and many like opinions he was in the habit of expressing with a frank brutality which, coupled with a rough manner, a harsh voice, and a preference for insulting his colleagues, made him the most detested public man in France. None the less was he possessed of high ability, of masterful will, and of great business capacity; he led his two colleagues, Barras and Larevelliere, and for nearly four years he governed the Directory while the Directory governed France.

Unlike the other Directors, all of whom were of the middle class, Paul-Francpois-Jean-Nicolas de Barras was the cadet of a noble Provencal family. He had served in the army and, when the Revolution broke out, was living the life of a declasse gentleman in Paris. His history during the Convention, his connexion with the young officer Bonaparte, and his conduct on the great days of Thermidor and of Vendemiaire are well known; his election to the Directory was no doubt due to the reputation for courage and military skill which he acquired on these occasions. Barras was tall and handsome, with a soldier-like frankness of manner and a fine voice. Emerging from a period when coarseness and vulgarity were part of the necessary equipment of a patriot, he retained traces of the manners of the old regime; he alone among the Directors carried himself with dignity in the somewhat flamboyant costume which they were condemned to assume. He united in his own person the worst characteristics of a licentious and insolent noble of the time of Louis XV, and of a truculent patriot of the Terror. Absolutely shameless, without honour or patriotism, he was ready to sell himself to any party or any country able and willing to purchase his services; he can hardly be said to have followed any policy except that of amassing a fortune, in which he succeeded so well, that after spending vast sums in entertainments and debauchery he retired with a sufficient fortune to support him in luxurious ease for the remainder of his long life.

Of Letourneur there is little to be said. He had served as a captain of engineers before the Revolution, and as a member of the Committee of War of the Convention. During his sixteen months of office he consistently supported Carnot, and formed with him the minority of the Directors.

Lazare-Nicolas-Marguerite Carnot stands on a different plane from the other Directors. He is perhaps the only member of the Convention to whom the epithet great can be applied. There can be no doubt of his genius for military organisation, of his patriotism, or of his probity. But he was now in an impossible position; he was the only important member of the Committee of Public Safety who had not perished or gone into exile. Those who were now his colleagues, whether Girondists

or Thermidorian Dantonists, shared in the common horror of the terrible Committee. Hardly a day passed on which one or other of them failed to recall to him the fact that hi? signature was at the bottom of a hundred documents dealing death and ruin all around with impartial iniquity.

On one occasion when Barras had attacked him with vehement coarseness, Carnot raised his hands; “ I swear,” he began, when Barras exclaimed, “Do not lift your hands, they will drip with blood,” and Carnot sank back into silence. And it was not only his colleagues who reproached him; his own mind was darkened with remorse and bitter memories. Hatred of the Terror and dread of its return brought him into entire sympathy with the “ new Third,” and with Boissy d’Anglas, Lanjuinais, and the other members of the Convention, who had joined them in the endeavour to establish a Constitutional Republic. The accusation of royalism was brought against him as against them, but no accusation could have been more absolutely false. To de La Rue, one of his supposed fellow-conspirators, he said, “ If I had the King’s pardon in my pocket I would not trust to it. The day after his restoration he would be compelled to revoke it.”

Such were the five men to whom the destiny of France was entrusted. Their powers were great, practically far greater than those of the legis­lature. They held the appointment of all military officers of rank, of the Ministers, the diplomatic agents, the chief officials of the Excise and Public Domain, and, until the end of the war, all colonial appointments. They were represented in each Department and in each municipality by a Commissary, in whose presence and with whose consent only the departmental or communal authorities could debate or act. Another Commissary was attached to each tribunal, including the Court of Final Appeal. They were empowered to sign treaties and to propose to the Corps I.egislatif declarations of war. The chief limitation of their power was that they could neither enact nor repeal laws, though they could propose either, and make any suggestions to the Chambers by formal messages. Their Ministers were rather chief clerks than Ministers, as the word is now understood, since they could neither meet together in Council nor sit in either Chamber of the Legislature. Practically the Directors were their own Ministers, Carnot taking the direction of the war and of the Army, Rewbell of Justice, Finance, and Foreign Affairs, Larevelliere of Education, Religion, and National Manufactures, and Barras of Police. Each Director presided for a term of three months, acting as chnirman and as spokesman on public occasions. The Directory was renewable each year by the retirement of one of its members chosen by lot; the retiring member was ineligible for this office for five years; he was at once replaced by a fresh election made by the Council of Anciens, from a list drawn up by the Five Hundred. The emoluments of each Director consisted of a yearly stipend of about

£5000, a suite of rooms at the Luxembourg, furniture, equipages, and costumes. A guard of 120 cavalry and the same number of infantry were under their orders. The total budget of the Directory, exclusive of the cost of the guard, averaged from £70,000 to £80,000 yearly.

In practical working the Directors made an evil use of their power. When they entered on office they found the Luxembourg swarming with clamorous office-seekers, ex-members of the Convention, Jacobins often of execrable reputation, dismissed officers, patriots imprisoned after the insurrections of April 1 and May 20, 1795, and amnestied in October of the same year. From these they selected judges, magistrates, commissaries, and even diplomatic agents. There is probably much truth in Larevelliere’s explanation that these “men of blood and plunder ” were forced upon the Directory by the impossi­bility of finding persons of good standing who would consent to serve the government. However this may be, these Jacobin officials tyrannised and robbed wherever they went, raising a storm of detestation not against themselves alone but against the Directors also, who had let them loose upon the countiy. In dealing with the Legislature the Directors were not more fortunate; their official messages were couched in an insolent, menacing tone, which constantly increased the ill-feeling between the rival powers. “ The Directory dreaded nothing so much as a reconciliation with the Corps Legislatif; they laboured with incredible activity to augment the causes of discontent and alarm,” writes Carnot, describing the state of affairs after the elections of 1797; and the same may be said of their conduct from the day of their taking office. They quarrelled with one another, they quarrelled with the legislature, with the tribunals, with their own servants. The spirit of Rewbell—angry, despotic, overbearing—_:rings through all their official documents and their public utterances.

But the worst feature of the Directory was its corruption. It is not possible to set down in black and white the exact sums which were paid or received for political or other services during the four years of their government. Neither briber nor bribed deposited their accounts in the public archives, or entered them in their diaries or memoirs. There is, however, one incident in the history of the Directory which was officially published to the world in two printed messages from President Adams. In 1796 disputes arose between the Directory and the government of the United States respecting American vessels captured by French privateers which led to the recall of the United States Minister. In October, 1797, three American Commissioners were sent to reopen negotiations, at their head Charles Pinckney, one of the most honourable of American statesmen. Talleyrand, then Minister of Foreign Affairs, at first through intermediaries, afterwards in person, demanded for himself a “gratification” of £50,000 and for the Directors a loan of 32,000,000 Dutch florins (about <£’2,660,000). The American

Commissioners rejected these nudest demands, and were ordered to leave Prance.

To this may be added the following instances. Lord Malmesbury, when negotiating for peace at Lille, received messages, “ purporting,” as he cautiously eyprc sses it, to come from Barras, and offering to secure peace for a payment to Rewbell and himself of £500,000; Lord Malmes­bury was also informed that the Portuguese Minister had paid to these two Directors about £400,000 as the price of the treaty signed in August, 1797. Barras, on evidence nearly if not quite conclusive, is said to have demanded from the Venetian envoys before the fall of Venice upwards of ,£20,000 for his ineffectual support. Talleyrand, on less trustworthy testimony, is stated to have received during the two years of his ministry about £60,000 in bribes from foreign Powers. What proportion of the immense exactions levied on invaded countries— Belgium, Holland, Germany, Italy, and Switzerland—found its way into the pockets of the Directors and their Ministers, officers, and Com­missaries, cannot even be conjectured; enough has been said to justify the assertion that the Directory was one of the most corrupt govern­ments known to history.

Such was the Executive Government of the Republic. The legislative power lay in the hands of the Corps Legislatif, whose constitution is described in a previous chapter. The despotic power of the Convention had been due chiefly to their permanent Committees and to the repre­sentatives whom they sent on missions. The Corps Legislatif was therefore forbidden to appoint any standing Committee or to send any representative to the Provinces or the army. No member of either Chamber could hold any executive office. The Councils could not be lissolved or adjourned by the Directory; they could under certain circumstances adjourn themselves, but neither Chamber could do so for more than five days without the consent of the other. To the Anciens alone belonged the power of changing the place of meeting.

In the vain hope of preventing the formation of parties within the Chambers, a clause of the Law of September 14, 1795, enacted that a separate chair and desk should be provided for each member; and these were ordered to be balloted for once a month, so that no two members, except by accident, should sit next to each other for more than four weeks. It is not improbable that this device was one of the principal causes of the ease with which the Corps Legislatif was over­come by the Directors in September, 1797; it certainly accounts for the want of cohesion which marked their proceedings, the contradictory speeches made by members supposed to be acting together, and the curious manner in which resolutions passed one day were repealed or altered on the morrow. The-Chambers were renewed each year by the retirement of one-third of the members by ballot; members retiring for the first time could be reelected for a second term, but no member could

sit for more than six years consecutively. Each Chamber elected its own President and Secretary for a period of one month. The sittings opened at noon and, except at critical periods, when a vote of permanence was passed, rose at 4 p.m. Before September 4, 1797 (18 Fructidor, An v), the Chambers met every day of the week; after that date they held no sittings on the decadi. The salary of each member amounted to about 30 fr. per day. A curious costume, burlesqued from ancient Greek models, was assigned to the members; but this was not adopted until after September, 1797, when its use became compulsory.

The Directory and the Corps Legislatif were divided into two parties, the Constitutionalists and the Revolutionists. The Consti­tutional party was composed of nearly all the two hundred and fifty members of the new Third and of many members of the right of the Convention, of two Directors, Carnot and Letourneur, and of the majority of the magistrates and other officials elected in 1795. It had the support of the electors and of the great mass of the people. Its adherents could consequently hope in two or at most in three years’ time to be in a majority in the Legislative Body, and consequently to replace the existing Directors, as they retired, by members of their own party. In fact, nothing but fair play was needed to make them masters of the future of France. By the opposite party the Constitutionalists were vehemently accused of enmity to the Republic and of open or concealed royalism; and, as this accusation was the ground of their destruction, it is essential to the history of the failure of the Constitution and the consequent fall of the Republic to enquire how far the charge was true. Of the fervent semi-religious loyalty to the Crown, which had been the ruling motive of the old rigvme even in its period of decadence, hardly a trace remained, except in the western Departments; nor were there more than a handful of persons in France who cherished a personal devotion towards the stout personality of Louis XVIII or the doubtful audacity of the Comte d’Artois, if Louis XVII had survived, it is possible that the members of the Right of the Convention might have attempted to found a constitutional monarchy with a council of regency chosen among themselves. There were probably many who, if driven to choose between a constitutional sovereign and a return of the Terror, would have accepted the King as the lesser of two evils; and a few who in theory preferred a constitutional Monarchy to a Republic. Thibaudeau names, in the Corps Legislatif, fifteen who were of this opinion, but adds that not one of them had any invincible repugnance to the Republic.

The elections of 1797 added to the number of these constitutional Monarchists. If it were possible to imagine a vote taken in the two Chambers on the substitution of a constitutional sovereign for the Directors, about twenty would have voted in its favour before the elec­tions of 1797, perhaps as many as forty after these elections: had the proposition been to restore the French monarchy as it stood before the

Revolution, neither before nor after 1797 would a single voice have been raised in its support. The term “ Royalist” was in fact used by the one party, as the terms “Jacobin” and “anarchist” were by the other, as the common form of abuse. To quote Thibaudeau once more: “A man treated with injustice complains—he is a Royalist; a writer censures an act of the government—he is a Royalist; a journalist criticises a public official—he is a Royalist.” The real aims of the Constitutional party had nothing to do with the reestablishment of any form of monarchy. They were to put an end to the war and to bring the Constitution into full force; and in order to achieve this it was above all things necessary to repeal the Law of October 25, 1795 (3 Brumaire). This law, the result of the insurrection of the Paris Sections and the consequent return of the Thermidorians to Jacobinism, renewed the revolutionary laws against the clergy and the relatives of emigres \ and, so long as it remained in force, the Constitution was crippled by the exclusion of large classes of French citizens from all rights and all protection.

The Revolutionary party was composed of three members of the Directory, Rewbell, Larevelliere-Lepeaux, and Barras, of most of the Ministers, notably the most powerful of them, Merlin of Douai, of the Commissaries and other officials appointed by the Directory, and of the majority of the ex-members of the Convention in the Corps Legislatif. Their policy was to continue the war, to maintain the Law of October 25, and generally to uphold the revolutionary system of govern­ment. Their guiding motive was not so much revolutionary enthusiasm or political principle as self-preservation; they desired to prolong the era of persecution and ostracism as the surest way of saving their own heads from peril; as regicides they dreaded the return of the monarchy, as Terrorists they feared the vengeance of the people.

The most important question, that on which all others turned, was whether the war should be continued or a general peace concluded. It could no longer be maintained that France was carrying on the war in defence of her territory. Peace had been already signed with Prussia in 1795, and with Spain in 1796; Belgium had been incorporated in the French Republic by the decree of October 1, 1795, which formed the whole of the Austrian Netherlands into nine Departments of France. Holland was a vassal ally. Austria on land and England on the sea were now the only serious adversaries of France. England had no intention of deserting her ally, but Pitt and his colleagues were prepared to make great sacrifices to secure peace. In his Message to Parliament on October 29, 1795, George III had expressed his hope that a settled government might result from the new French Constitution, with which it might be possible to treat. During the winter of 1795-6 Pitt and Lord Grenville had been earnest in their endeavours to induce the Austrian government to join Great Britain in negotiating for peace. The Austrian Ministers however were persuaded that the Directors had

no intention of coming to terms, nor were they yet prepared to abandon their claims to the Belgian Provinces. No further steps. were taken until October, 1796, when Lord Malmesbury was sent to Paris with instructions to insist on the restoration of Belgium to Austria as a preliminary of peace. This was flatly refused by the Directory; and Lord Malmesbury was ordered to leave Paris on December 19.

The design of the campaign of 1796 was to attack Austria from the north and south at once. The Army of Italy under Bonaparte advancing northward across the Alps was to join hands with the Army of the Rhine under Moreau advancing from Strassburg, and with the Army of the Sambre-et-Meuse under Jourdan advancing from the Rhine Provinces. Bonaparte, the story of whose victories in Italy will be told in a subsequent chapter, succeeded beyond the wildest expectations; but for the moment the general plan of campaign fell through, owing to the failure of the northern armies. Early in June Moreau conveyed his army of 70,000 men across the Rhine at Kehl; and at the same time Jourdan, at the head of 45,000 troops, crossed the river at Neuwied. The Archduke Charles, commanding an army of 150,000 men, fell back before the advancing French, until towards the end of August, when Jourdan had captured Wurzburg and Moreau was fast advancing upon Munich.

Then the Archduke, adopting the system by which Bonaparte was carrying all before him in Italy, sprang upon Jourdan before he could effect a junction with the Army of the Rhine and drove him back­wards by a series of attacks, at Amberg on August 24, at Wurzburg on September 2, at Aschaffenburg on the 13th, and at Altenkirchen on the 19th. It was here that General Marceau fell into the Archduke’s hands mortally wounded—a heavy blow to France, for Marceau shared with Hoche the reputation of being not only a commander of brilliant audacity but a man of honourable and generous character. On Sep­tember 20 Jourdan recrossed the Rhine between Bonn and Neuwied. His army had suffered terribly, having lost nearly half its number in action, from h anger, disease, or assassination by the peasantry whom the soldiers had plundered ruthlessly during their advance. When the Archduke left his lieutenant, General Latour, with a small force before Moreau, he said, “Let him advance to Vienna if he can, it matters nothing provided I beat Jourdan.” But Moreau, though at the head of a fine army, finding himself without supports and far from his base, was soon obliged to retreat; he achieved his return to Strassburg in perfect order.

Early in the same year 1796, Hoche, as much by statesmanship and toleration as by military skill, completed the pacification of the Vendee and set the great army, which for three years had been locked up in western France, free to reinforce the armies of Italy and the Rhine. After sending large reinforcements to each of these, Hoche himself with

15,000     men embarked in seventeen ships of the line with a number of

frigates and transports and a distinguished passenger, Wolfe Tone, for Bantry Bay. A series of gales broke up the fleet; and by January.1, 1797, the expedition had returned to Brest without landing a man and with the loss of five ships. But the failure of ■ Hoche’s expedition and of the campaign in Germany were more than counterbalanced by the conquest of Italy and by the treaty with Spain, which doubled the number bf ships and seamen to be brought into action against England. The triumph of this treaty was however of short duration, for on February 14 Sir John Jervis’ victory off Cape St Vincent put the Spanish fleet out of reckoning.

In the spring of 1797 Hoche, who had succeeded Jour dan in com­mand of the Army of the Sambre-et-Meuse, recrossed the Rhine and defeated the Austrians at Neuwied on April 18. Moreau also, after retaking Kehl, was in full advance when both armies were suddenly checked by the news that on the day of Hoche’s victory Bonaparte had signed the preliminaries of a peace with Austria at Leoben, which after six months of negotiation led to the Treaty of Campo Formio, October 17, 1797.

To secure the general peace it was now necessary only to come to terms with Great Britain and with Portugal. With Portugal a treaty was signed on August 10, leaving Great Britain without a single ally in Europe. Pitt had been anxious for¹ peace in 1795 and 1796; he was still more anxious now. The mutiny at the Nore, the threatened rebellion of Ireland, the fall of Consols to forty-eight, were overpowering arguments against continuing the war single-handed. In July, 1797, Lord Malmesbury was again sent to France to treat at Lille with three French plenipo­tentiaries, the chief of whom was Maret,' the future Due de Bassano. The English government was prepared to recognise all the French conquests in Europe and to restore the captured French colonies, retaining only the Cape of Good Hope taken from the Dutch and Trinidad taken from the Spaniards. Belgium had been the crux of Lord Malmesbuiy’s first mission; the Cape became that of his second. The French absolutely demanded its restoration to Holland. Carnot, in his reply to Bailleul, tells of a conversation with Rewbell which fully explains the motive of the French anxiety on behalf of their ally; “ Do you suppose,” said Rewbell, “ that it is for the sake of the Dutch that I demand the restitution of the Cape? The first object is to recover it, for which we require Dutch ships and money; that object once achieved, I will soon convince the Dutch that these colonies belong not to them but to ourselves.” In the main, however, the hopes of peace depended, not on questions of detail, but on the results of the deadlock caused by the struggle between the two French parties. If the Constitutionalists won, peace was assured; if they were beaten, there was small hope of it. The coup d'etat of September 4 settled the question; and twelve days later Lord Malmesbury received orders to quit France within twenty-four

hours. Years afterwards Carnot, referring to these negotiations, said, “ If my advice had been followed we should have made peace under conditions which can never occur again”; and he spoke truly, for no peace made afterwards, with the Exception of the short-lived Peace of Amiens, has left France with so large a territory or so great a prestige.

But there were considerations in the minds of the three Directors and their supporters which convinced them that in war lay their sole security. France was now maintaining armies in the field consisting of over a quarter of a million of men., These men, the flower of the nation, were armed, fedj and clothed by Europe; far from being a burden on France, they formed the one financial resource of the country; money, plate, objects of art, poured into France and would continue to do so while the war lasted. But how in time of peace could these enormous armies be paid or fed for a month? What if they demanded the milliard (£40,000,000) promised to them by the Convention ? And, even if the armies allowed themselves to be disbanded, what was to be done with the generals ? Would men like Bonaparte, and Hoche, and fifty more of the ablest officers whom France had ever possessed, be content to vegetate on half-pay? “Do you suppose,” said Napoleon to Miot de Melito, “ that I am winning fame in Italy for the glorification of the attorneys of the Directory? Let them try to remove me from my command and they will soon see what will happen.”

These considerations go far to account for the eagerness with which the Directory welcomed Bonaparte’s proposal to take the finest regi­ments of the army to Egypt, as well as the recklessness with which, before the ink was dry on the Treaty of Campo Formio, they begc.n to send armies to revolutionise and plunder Switzerland and Italy. They must have foreseen that these predatory expeditions would lead to the renewal of a general war; but of this they had little fear. What they did fear from the bottom of their souls was peace.

, The consideration of the attitude of the two parties towards the war has made it! necessary to refer to events which occurred at a period subsequent to the first year of the Directory; we must now return to the hardly less lital questions which divided the Revolutionary from the Constitutional party in the internal affairs of France—the financial position, the religious difficulty, and the legislation on the Emigres,

The history of the finances, of the daily fall in the value of Assignats, and of the ultimate bankruptcy, are told in a later chapter of this volume: allusion only can be made here to the increasing financial embarrassments of the Treasury, the fortunes made by speculators and contractors, the general dishonesty fostered, almost necessitated, by the uncertainty of the currency; all essential elements in the hibtory of the Directory. The other questions, religion and the emigres, must be dealt with somewhat more in detail.             .

It need hardly be said that the religious difficulty became acute in

1791,       when the great majority of ecclesiastics refused to take the oath of conformity to the Civil Constitution of the Clergy. The persecution which followed had driven most of them from France; of those who remained no exact statistics are obtainable. It is known only that forty-one of the Bishops were dead, and that eleven who had lived concealed in France during the Terror were alive in November, 1795. During the Thermidorian reaction, laws were passed in September, 1794, and in May, 1795, granting, on paper at least, freedom of worship, and restoring to the use of any form of religious observance desired by-the people such churches as had not been appropriated to State purposes or sold to private purchasers. By twos and threes the clergy had been returning from abroad or had been creeping from their hiding-places, and were now often officiating in their former parishes. A statement in the Anntdes de la Religion in July, 1797, estimates that public services were then being held in 31,214 communes in the country, while forty-one churches were open and crowded with worshippers in Paris.

Under the government of the Directory the legal position of a priest who had not taken the “ civic oath ” in 1791 was as follows. Artiele 354 of the Constitution decreed that no one should be prevented from the exercise of the religion of his choice. On the other hand the Law of October 25, 1795, ordered that the laws against priests transported or liable to transportation (that is to say, every member of the orthodox clergy) should be immediately put in force; meaning simply that every priest who had returned to France was liable to be executed on identifi­cation, and every priest who had remained in France to be transported for life. The orthodox Roman Church was the form of religion desired by nine out of ten Christians in France; yet, while by the Constitution these were free to adopt its services, the priest who ministered to them was, in the eye of the law, a “ wolf’s-head.” After the coup d'etat of September, 1797, every priest was in fact, as well as in theory, in daily peril; before that period the law remained nearly a dead letter, only twenty priests losing their lives. But for this clemency the Directory were not to blame; in one of their first circulars they urged their com­missaries to “wear out the patience of the priests; not to give them a moment of ease; never to lose sight of these instruments of murder, royalism, and anarchy.” In the Corps Ligislatif the Constitutionalists made repeated efforts to repeal the Law of October 25, but until the elections of 1797 they had not a sufficient majority to effect this: the clergy were, however, defended in both Chambers by such men as Thibaudeau, Lanjuinais, Portalis, Barbe-Marbois, Boissy d’Anglas, and many others. Few of these were Christians in belief or sympathy, but they could understand the folly of ineffectual persecution and the object- lesson given by Hoche, who was pacifying the Vendee as much by treating the clergy with common justice as by force of arms.

The remnant of the Constitutional Church, since the complete

severance of Church and State known as the “ National Church,” formed the only other considerable religious body in Prance. Of the eighty-two constitutional Bishops elected in 1791, forty still remained in some exercise of their functions; of the remainder eight had been guillotined, thirteen had died natural deaths, and twenty-one had aban­doned their Orders; of the clergy a large proportion had married, secularised themselves, or rejoined the orthodox Homan Church.

On this body, which had little ground for desiring a change of government, the Directors shed a cold and lack-lustre patronage. They allowed its clergy to share with the Theophilanthropists the use of Notre Dame, and even to hold a National Council. But the Consti­tutional Church had little hold on the mind of the people; its churches and its coffers were empty; and had it not been for the influence of Bishop Gregoire, one of the most courageous, interesting and paradoxical characters of the Revolution, it would hardly have remained in existence until the dose of the century.

Owing to the fact that Larevelliere-Lepeaux was its patron if not its apostle, the curious creed and worship of the Theophilanthropists obtained a momentary notoriety during the Directory. This was a form of natural religion founded by David Williams, an English Deist, in 1766, which failed in England, but found in France a certain number of eminent disciples, such as Bemardin de Saint-Pierre, Marie-Joseph Chenier, Creuzd-Latouche, David the painter, and Dupont of Nemours. Its tenets consisted of elegant extracts from the teaching of the English Deists, and from Zoroaster, Socrates, Seneca, Fenelon, Voltaire, and above all Rousseau. Its ritual, celebrated on the (tecadi, was composed of an invocation to the God of Nature, an examination of conscience, hymns, sermons, and readings from the sages named above, together with special services for baptisms, marriages, and funerals. The Directors appro­priated eighteen churches in Paris to its use; but, as soon as the novelty wore off, it dwindled to a, handful of supporters who were finally excluded from the “ national edifices ” in 1801. The official religion of the Directory, consisting of the observances of the decadi and the moral and patriotic fetes, existed rather in theory than in practice until the coup (Ptiat of September, 1797; after that date, as will be seen, it became a very stem reality.

Perhaps no passage in the history of the Revolution is so complicated as that of the laws relative to the emigres; assuredly none has been so persistently misrepresented by partisan writers.

The Emigration began in 1789, with consequences as disastrous to the emigres themselves as to the country they abandoned. Between October,

1792,       and the dissolution of the Convention, upwards of three hundred laws had been passed relating to the emigres themselves and their relatives. By this mass of legislation each commune was instructed to frame lists of the emigres within its borders and to forward them to

the Committee of Legisla' von of the Convention, who alone had. the power to erase names from these lists. For a time the lists were drawn up with some care and published by the Committee; but under the Terror all method died out, and from early in 1793 to the end of the Direbtory the lists grew and multiplied, unexamined and unrevised. Each person on these lists was an emigre; and as such he or she was condemned to perpetual banishment, loss of all civil rights, confiscation of property, and death within twenty-four hours after identification, if found on French soil.

Nor was it only the emigres who were condemned. Their relatives were formed into an ostracised class, deprived of civil rights, obliged to live under police supervision, liable to a number of special fines and taxes, bound to furnish an account of whatever property the emigre their relative was heir to, and to hand over such property or to effect a compromise with the government, which was held to be in immediate possession of the bnigrfs succession. An emigre is popularly taken to be a person, usually a member of the old noblesse, who had fled from France and taken arms against his country or assisted her enemies; in fact a rebel or a traitor and as such liable to punishment. Such no doubt was the original emigre against whom the earlier laws were directed; but to this' class belonged only a small fraction of those inscribed on the lists at the close of the year 1795. In 1799 the army of Conde was composed of 1007 officers and 5840 rank- and file; it had never consisted of more than 10,000 ; to double this number would be to overstate those who had fought against France or had in any way assisted foreign Powers against her. But the number of persons on the lists of emigres vastly exceeded 20,000, and included many thousands of men and women who had never in their lives crossed the frontier. The number can never be accurately known. In a message of February 26,

1797,       the Directory state the number in the incomplete lists in their hands as 120,000, of whom 60,000 were known to be in France. In May,

1796,       Portalis asserted that more than 100,000 fathers of families who had never left France were on the lists of emigres; in the same debate it was stated that the number of relations of imigres liable to confiscation was 300,000. Finally, in 1800, the Minister of Police reported that the number still on the lists in his hands amounted to 145,000. Reckless­ness, wholesale proscription, local and personal jealousy, had contrived to form this immense class of emigres. At different periods of the Terror the inhabitants of Lyons, Marseilles, and Bordeaux had been declared emigres; from Nantes, Toulon, Orange, Avignon, Strassburg, and many other places, thousands had fled to escape the Revolutionary Commissions, and these were imigr&s. In many communes all proprietors not actually present when the lists were drawn up were entered as emigres. Thus the great mathematician, Monge, when Minister of the Navy, discovered that he was on the list of the Department of the Ardennes,

and that a farm in that Department belonging to his wife had been put up for sale as national property. Andre Dumont, speaking in the Council of Five Hundred, tells of a friend, a zealous Republican, who had acted as Mayor of his native town for years without knowing that he was on the list of Emigres of a neighbouring commune;

That such a system should have lasted for a week after a regular government had been established seems at first sight impossible; but the explanation is simple. Vast interests depended on the maintenance of the laws against the emigres. Their property, with that of the clergy and the national domains, formed the security on which the assignats were issued, and many thousands of purchasers had been found for their confiscated estates. If a general amnesty were granted and the emigres were allowed to reclaim their lands and houses, the assignats would become waste-paper and the whole social fabric would fair to pieces. So impossible was it to escape from this vicious circle, that the Constitution decreed that imigris not included in exceptions already allowed should be banished for ever from France and that their property belonged to the Republic. The Constitutional party, while acknowledging the iniquity of the whole system, did not dare to advocate its complete abolition. They endeavoured only to repeal the Law of October 25 (3 Brumaire), which deprived the relatives of emigres of all civil rights and ordered them to live under police supervision. They also en­deavoured to place the duty of removing names from the lists in the hands of the tribunals or of a committee of the Corps Legislatif; but the Conventional majority before the elections of 1797 was too strong. The Law of October 25 remained, and the power of erasure was entrusted to the Directors and the Minister of Justice. This power fell practically into the hands of Barras and Merlin of Douai; and consequently none but those with a long purse could hope for justice. The number removed before September, 1797, was about 15,000; between that date and the end of the Directoiy veiy few names were erased.

The discussion of these questions and of the financial difficulties of the Republic occupied the greater part of the time of the Corps Legislatif before the elections of 1797. Outside the Chambers, the principal events were the exchange of “ la file Capet," daughter of Louis XVI, for the eight deputies and officers delivered to the Austrians by Dumouriez in April, 1793, and the conspiracies of Babeuf and Brottier.

In February, 1796, the Directors ordered the closing of a number of clubs. Most of these, the so-called Royalist clubs, were little more *Wn gambling or dancing saloons; but one, the club of the Pantheon, was of a widely different order. It had four thousand members and formed a place of refuge for the Terrorists and Jacobins of Paris and of those who were driven from the Provinces to take refuge in the capital. In this club existed an esoteric circle calling themselves the Societe des

itgaux, the principal members of which were “Gracchus” Babeuf, editor of the- Tribun<■ du Pewple; Sylvain Marechal, a well-known journalist; Drouet, one of those,recently exchanged for Madame Royale; Antonelle, ex-noble and juryman of the Revolutionary Tribunal; F&ix Le Peletier, a rich enthusiast; Buonarotti, president of the club; several ex-members of the Convention, including Robert Lindet, and Jean- Antoine Rossignol, and four other dismissed officers.

The closing of the club did not put an end to the Society, which met in cafes and private houses and developed the conspiracy known as that of Babeuf. The aims and methods of the conspirators may be thus briefly summarised. The Revolution had failed because the rich retained and increased their possessions, while the poor remained miserable. Another and final revolution was necessary to form an equitable system under which the land should belong to the State, its fruits to the people, where all should work and all should fare alike, and riches and poverty come to a perpetual end. The new Republic was to be governed by elected functionaries, whose duty it was to collect the produce of the land in storehouses and distribute it. Literature, art, and religion were to be proscribed, children to be brought up in common, towns to be destroyed, and all Frenchmen, dressed in the same costume, to inhabit villages. The first steps towards the establishment of this golden age are set forth in a document entitled the Act of Insurrection. The exist­ing government was to be dissolved, the Directors killed, the members of the Corps Legislatif delivered to the “judgment of the people,” and all who opposed the insurrectionary committee exterminated.

These preliminary matters disposed of, a convention, consisting of sixty-eight members of the extreme Left of the late Convention and one approved patriot appointed to represent each Department by the insurrectionary committee, was to be summoned to establish liberty, equality, and the common happiness. Among the Jacobins and Terrorists the conspirators found many recruits; but they had sense enough to see that without a military force they were powerless. A number of agents were employed to gain over the soldiers of the Paris division by wild promises of money and plunder. At Grenelle was stationed the Legion of Police, a force six thousand strong recruited chiefly from the “ Revolutionary Army,” on which the conspirators mainly relied; but shortly before the insurrection was timed to break out, the Legion, which was in a semi-mutinous condition, was broken up, the more insubordinate disbanded, the rest incorporated with various regiments. Those who were dismissed mostly joined the conspirators; but the breaking up of the corps was a fatal blow to their plans.

One of the agents employed to jorrupt the soldiers, Georges Grisel, revealed the conspiracy to Carnot and to Cochon, the recently appointed Minister of Police; and on May 10, 1796, the eve of the day appointed for the insurrection, the leaders were arrested. Eighteen escaped; the

remainder, forty-six in number, were sent to Vendome to be tried by a High Court of Justice specially constituted in accordance with the Constitution to try cases of high treason. One of the prisoners, Drouet, was a member of the Corps Legislatif, and in accordance with the Constitution could be tried only after a decree of accusation had been passed by the Chambers. This was carried; but Drouet escaped from the Abbaye with the connivance of the Directors, as Barras, probably for once speaking the truth, avers.

On September 7 a body of armed insurgents marched on the camp at Grenelle hoping to find sympathisers among the troopers of the 21st Dragoons, into which regiment members of the Legion of Police had been drafted. They were disappointed, for Malo, the commandant of the regiment, charged them, killing many and taking 132 prisoners, who were tried by a military Commission. Thirty-two, including Javogues, ex-member of the Convention, and Huguet, ex-Constitutional B hop, were sentenced to be shot; twenty-seven to be transported, and the remainder to be discharged. The High Court began its sittings on February 20,1797, and after a trial lasting for two months sentenced Babeuf and Darthe to death, Buonarotti and six others to transportation, and acquitted the rest. It was generally held at the time that Barras, and perhaps Rewbell, had been in communication with Babeuf and his friends, and that their hands were forced by the information given by Grisel to Carnot and Cochon. The evidence in favour of this belief is too lengthy to be given here; it is not conclusive, but is curiously strengthened by the sympathetic tone in which Barrels writes of the conspirators, and by his denunciations of Cochon and Grisel. It is not improbable that the two Directors hoped to play with Babeuf, and to use his party against the Corps L&gislatif at the critical moment.

A second conspiracy, this time a royalist movement, was discovered on January 30, 1797, when the Abbe Brottier, the royalist agent in Paris, La Villeheumois, an ex-Magistrate, Duveme de Presle, and Baron de Poly, with nine other men and five women, were arrested. The con­spirators had attempted to seduce Malo, the officer who had dispersed the insurgents at Grenelle, and Ramel, commandant of the guard of the Corps Legislatif, who, while pretending to listen, kept the Directors informed of the progress of the plot.

The evidence as given by Malo revealed simply a foolish attempt to copy the methods of Babeuf. A sufficient military force was to be secured, the barriers, arsenals, and public buildings to be seized, the existing government to be dissolved, and Louis XVIII to be proclaimed. This evidence did not satisfy the Directors’ desire to prove their favourite thesis, that royalists and anarchists were one and the same. Nothing but the facts could be had from Malo, but Ramel allowed himself to put into the mouth of Poly statements to the effect that the royal mercy would be freely extended to the Terrorists of 1793, while the

constitutionalists of 1789 would feel the full weight of royal vengeance. Lafayette was to be brought to Paris in an iron cage, and death or thfe galleys awaited the members of the Constituent Assembly.

The Directors, thinking that a militaiy tribunal would make shorter work of the conspirators than a civil Court, sent the prisoners before a military commission, to be tried for seducing soldiers from their duty. The accused appealed against the competence of this commission and the Court of Appeal decided in their favour; but the Directors were peremptory, and the trial continued. The Commissary of the Directory demanded a sentence of death against all the prisoners; but the com­mission, moved by a sense of its own illegality and perhaps by doubts of the truth of Hamel’s testimony, passed sentences of imprisonment for various terms against Brottier, Duveme de Presle, La Villeheumois, and Poly, and acquitted the others. The Directors showed their disappoint­ment by arranging to send five of the prisoners before a civil Court on the charge of treason. A delay occurred in consequence of the offer of Duveme de Presle to produce “revelations” implicating members of the Corps Legislatif; and, after the coup d’etat of September, 1797, the prisoners were ultimately transported to Cayenne.

In March and April, 1797, came the first renewal of the Directory and Corps Legislatif. Two hundred and sixteen ex-members of the Convention, chosen by ballot, retired; most of them stood for reelection by the constituencies, but only eleven, including Boissy d’Anglas, were returned. The result of the elections was to give the Constitutionalists a working majority in both Chambers; and the Directors were thus brought face to face with a hostile legislature which they could neither dissolve nor adjourn. No legal course but submission lay before them; and, to put their case fairly, such submission was not without danger. They represented the Convention, and especially the regicides. If they resigned or ceased to govern, they could no longer protect the Con­ventionalists or the great body of Jacobins whom they had appointed to office. On May 20 the new members took their seats, and on the 27th elected Barthelemy as Director in succession to Letourneur, whose retire­ment by ballot was considered to have been arranged beforehand.

Barthelemy had long held the position of French Minister in Switzerland and had successfully negotiated the Peace with Prussia in 1795; but he had little practical experience of the actual state of France and was rather an excellent than a strong man. He acted uniformly in concert with Carnot, replacing Letourneur politically as well as officially. The Constitutionalist majority was hardly a homogeneous body: it tended towards the formation of an extreme and a central party. The extreme members, most powerful in the Council of Five Hundred, were led by Boissy d’Anglas, Pichegru, de La Rue, and Camille Jordan, newly returned as one of the deputies of Lyons. They placed them­selves in direct hostility to the three Directors, and desired the immediate

repeal of all revolutionary laws. Some of the members of this party founded a political society known as the Club de Clichy, and hence the term CUchien became the nickname by which members of the Constitu­tional party were known, though in reality only a small number of them were actually members.

The “ Centre,” strongest in the Council of the Anciens, and repre­sented by such men as Tron^on-Ducoudray, Simeon, Mathieu Dumas, Barbe-Marbois, Portalis, and Thibaudeau, were in favour of a gradual modification of the revolutionary laws, and desired to compromise with the majority of the Directors, respecting their office and looking forward to a peaceable termination of the existing deadlock by the gradual replacement of the revolutionary members.

The Directorial or Conventional party was also composed of two wings, a left central and a Jacobin section. Most of its more distinguished members joined the Cercle Constitutionnel, a club recently founded in opposition to the Clichy, under the influence of Sieyes, Madame de Stael, Benjamin Constant, and Talleyrand.

During the period between May 20 and September 4> the Corps Ligislatif was again chiefly occupied with the questions of the imigris and the clergy. The clauses of the Law of October 25, 1795, relating to the relatives of imigris, were repealed; and several, deputies who had been rendered by this law incapable of sitting were allowed to take their seats. A commission was appointed to consider the question of religious freedom. On June 17 Camille Jordan made his celebrated report which, with some modifications, formed the basis of a law passed on September 1 by which such communes as desired the services of a priest were declared at liberty to choose one, and the priest thus chosen was, after making a declaration of submission to the Republic, to be secured from legal prosecution; churches not otherwise disposed of could be appropriated to public worship: but no ecclesiastic might wear a distinctive costume, no religious ceremonies might take place outside the churches, and no endowments might be given or bequeathed to any religious body. This law, which was repealed immediately after the coup d'itat of September, 1797, was put forward as one of the most obvious proofs of a “ royalist conspiracy.”

While these measures were being debated the anxiety and alarm of the members of the Constitutional party were daily increasing.. Three of their leaders, Portalis, Simeon, and Dumas, were deputed to represent to Barras the possibility of a reconciliation founded on the dismissal of the four Ministers, Merlin, Delacroix, Ramel de Nogaret, and Truguet, who were obnoxious to the Councils, and their replacement by men of more moderate opinions. Barras received the deputation with cordiality; but when on July 16 Carnot, acting in concert with the members of the Councils, proposed the change, he found that Barras had concerted with Rewbell and Larevelliere to dismiss not the revolutionary but the

moderate Ministers in whom the Councils had full confidence. The removal of Delacroix and Truguet was agreed to, nor did Carnot and Bavthelemy object to the appointment of Talleyrand to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, or of Pleville Le Pelay to the Ministry of the Navy; but the retention of the two Revolutionary Ministers, Merlin and Ramel, and the dismissal of the three Constitutionalists, Ben&ech, Petiet, and Cochon, formed a final breach between the two and the three Directors, accentuated by the appointment of Francois de Neufchateau to the Interior, Lenoir Laroche (replaced after a few days by Sotin) to the Police, and Scherer, a special protegi of Rewbell, to the Ministry of War.

From this time forward there could be little doubt of the ultimate designs of the three Directors. Hoche, with a view to another invasion of England, was leading towards Brest a force of 12,000 men, detached from his army on the Rhine, and Barras had engaged him to turn this force in the direction of Paris. In this negotiation Barras seems to have been acting on his own account, for when intelligence reached the Directory and Councils that Hoche’s army was being brought within the distance from the Corps Legislatif forbidden by the Constitution, and he was himself summoned and severely cross-examined by Carnot, then President of the Directory, the general obtained no countenance from Barras, who sat by, indifferently reading or pretending to read his papers. Angry and ill, Hoche withdrew and took no further active share in the coming struggle. His day was in fact over. On September 19 he died, leaving Bonaparte, his only equal in reputation and genius, without a rival.

Then the three Directors turned to Bonaparte. Rumours of the cession of Venice to Austria had led to heated debates in the Council of the Five Hundred, in the course of which several deputies, notably Dumolard, the ever fluent haranguer, attacked Bonaparte, justly no doubt, but fatally; for Bonaparte was wavering between the two parties, and these philippics either weighed down the balance on the side of the Directory, or gave him the pretext he desired. He issued a fiery pro­clamation to the Army of Italy on the fite of July 14 and encouraged inflammatory addresses against the royalist conspirators of Clichy. Swiftly following words by action, Bonaparte sent Augereau to Paris on urgent private affairs. He took care to warn the three Directors that Augereau was an excellent soldier but a turbulent politician—a warning which Augereau himself lost no time in justifying. Blazing with jewels, he pranced through Paris, loudly announcing that he had come to kill the royalists, and filled the minds of Rewbell and Larevelliere with apprehensions that he and Barras were planning a coup d'etat on their own account.

It is difficult to account for Carnot’s conduct during these critical weeks. He was urged to place himself at the head of a counter­movement and to organise an attack upon the Directory; but, either

from weariness or from a conviction that the Directors would not dare to attack him, he remained inactive and added to the indecision, doubt, and dread of illegality, which paralysed the majority of the Chambers. Pichegru, Willot, and the more energetic spirits, could find no followers. Some fled, others debated on organising the National Guard and increasing the strength of their own small body of troops; but practically nothing was done, and the Constitutional party fell without striking a single blow.

On the evening of September 8 the three members of the Directory constituted themselves in permanent session and despatched orders to Moreau, whose army had sent no addresses and whose fidelity they distrusted, to return to Paris. They then drew up a proclamation announcing that a royalist conspiracy had been frustrated at the critical moment, and that a great host of emigres, assassins from Lyons, and brigands from the Vendee, had attacked the posts which surrounded the Directory, but that their criminal efforts had been defeated by the vigilance of the government. This proclamation, accompanied by extracts from the papers taken by Bonaparte from the royalist agent d’Entraigues inculpating Pichegru and Imbert-Colomes, was posted * throughout Paris during the night. Barthelemy was arrested in his bed, and indignantly refusing offers of escape on condition that he would sign his resignation, was sent to the Temple. Carnot, warned at the last moment, slipped quietly through the Luxembourg Gardens and ultimately escaped to Switzerland.

At three o’clock in the morning of September 4 (18 Fructidor, An v), Augereau with 2000 men advanced on the Tuileries, meeting with no opposition from the Guard of the Carps Legislatif, and arrested Ramel, Commandant of the Guard, Pichegru, Willot, and a number of other Deputies, most of whom were members of the Commission of Inspectors charged with the protection of the Councils.

At seven o’clock the presidents of the two Councils, Lafon-Ladebat and Simeon, accompanied by about fifty members, attempted to open the day’s sittings but were ejected. They removed to the house of Lafon- Ladebat, whither they were followed by an officer of Augereau’s staff who arrested several and dispersed the remainder. When asked by what law he dared to arrest the Representatives of the People he replied with simple truth, “By the law of the sword.” The Members of the Directorial party met at 9 a.m., the Anciens in the Nicole de Santd, the Five Hundred in the Odeon theatre. There they declared them­selves in permanent session, appointed a Commission of Five, including Sieyes and Boulay of the Meurthe, and sat throughout the day awaiting the orders of their masters, not knowing whether their colleagues of yesterday were to be tried, shot off-hand, or transported. At six in the evening the first message was received from the Directory; and Boulay was able to announce that the “ Triumph of the Republic was not to be

stained by blood.” During the night of September 4 and the following day they sat surrounded by soldiers and by a disorderly rabble, intimi­dated by threatening messages from the Directors, and in the hot haste of terror produced the Law of September 5 (19 Fructidor).

By, this law, all the elections of 49 Departments, returning 154 Members, were annulled, and the Directors were charged to appoint all the magistrates and officials in these departments until the elections of

1798.       Fifty-three persons were ordered to be immediately transported to such place as the Directors should fix ; among these were the two Directors, Carnot and Barthelemy, thirty-eight members of the Corps LegislatifCochon, ex-Minister of Police, Generals Pichegru, Miranda, and Morgan, the Abbe Brottier and two of his associates. The Law of October 25, 1795 (3 Brumaire, An iv), was reenacted with an additional clause (added in view of the possibility of peace with Austria and Great Britain) prolonging for four years after the general peace the disabilities attaching to the relatives of Emigres. All imigres were ordered to leave France within a fortnight; any imigre remaining after this period was to be tried by a military commission and shot within ¹ twenty-four hours. The law recently passed on the Liberty of Worship was repealed; and every priest was ordered to take a special oath of hatred to royalty and anarchy. The Directors were empowered to trans­port, by an administrative order stating the reason of its issue, any priest who might disturb the public peace. All newspapers and news­paper presses were placed for one year under the inspection of the police. The power of proclaiming any commune in a state of siege was invested in the Directory.

On the next day, September 6, two new Directors, Merlin of Douai and Francois de Neufch&teau, were elected in place of Carnot and Barthelemy. Merlin, under the Consulate and Empire an eminent jurist, was as yet known only as the “ author of the Law of the Suspect” and as a harsh and unscrupulous supporter of the Revolutionary system; Franfois as a writer of dithyrambic plays with a passion for the observance of fetes and dicadis. Both were by profession avocats.

From the point of view of the three Directors nothing could have been more successful than their coup d'etat. By a few hours of violence they had disposed of two hostile Directors and of more than two hundred members of the Corps Legislatif, and had thus crushed all their opponents and erected for themselves a despotism which Louis XIV or the Committee of Public Safety might have envied.

But however successful a coup d'etat may be, it requires some justifi­cation. The official explanation of that of 18 Fructidor is contained in the messages and proclamations of the Directory on September 4 and following days, in the speeches of their two chief spokesmen in the Corps Legislatif, Boulay and Bailleul, in September, 1797, and in the elaborate report delivered by Bailleul in March, 1798, of a Commission appointed

to enquire into the conspiracy. According to these authorities the measures taken by the three Directors were just in time to save France from the outbreak of a royalist conspiracy. Had they lingered for twenty-four hours, said the Directors in their first message to the Corps Legislatif, “the Republic would have been betrayed to its mortal enemies.” This “ conspiracy ” was formed by the members of the majority in the Corps Legislatif, and was supported by the two Directors, Carnot and Barthelemy, by the condemned journalists, and by the returned emigres and priests. The proofs of the imminent danger from which the Directors saved the Republic were taken from three sources; first, the declarations of Duveme de Presle, one of the colleagues of the Abbe Brottier, consisting of a series of vague accusations of no weight what­ever ; secondly, a number of papers taken by Bonaparte in Italy from a royalist agent, the Comte d’Entraigues, which contained some letters compromising Pichegru and Imbert-Colomes, deputy for Lyons; thirdly, the correspondence found in the carriage of the Austrian general Klinger by Moreau, which was not received by the Directors until after September 4.

Moreau’s conduct with regard to this correspondence is somewhat of a mystery. The letters were discovered and deciphered in May, 1797, but for four months he kept them in his own hands. On the night of September 3 he was recalled; but, according to his own account, he was not aware of this until September 8. Meanwhile on September 5, or as he afterwards asserted on September 3, he forwarded the entire correspondence to Barthelemy. Why he kept it so long, and why he sent the letters to Barthelemy and not to the Minister of War, are questions which admit of no conclusive answer. The documents them­selves, though containing no word in Pichegru’s handwriting, prove that in the autumn of 1795 he had through the medium of a royalist agent, Fauche Borel, received proposals made to him by the Prince de Conde to surrender Hiiningen, join the Prince with his army, and march with him on Paris, where Louis XVIII would be proclaimed King.

There was therefore a strong case against Pichegru, and a much weaker case against Imbert-Colomes; but against the two Directors, the members of the Corps Legislatif, or the condemned generals, journalists, and others, there was no case whatever. As for a general conspiracy of all these persons to destroy the Republic, the charge rests solely on the accusation made by the Directors and their party. After months of research by a special committee, all that Bailleul could say was that it was so evident as to require no proof; to quote his own words : “ We do not try to prove the existence of light, we analyse it.” His long report is in fact devoted to hysterical diatribes on the iniquity of priests, epiigres, and journalists, to denunciations of Carnot as the defender of Kings, of Pastoret and Boissy d’Anglas as repealers of laws against Emigres, and so forth. Fortunately for Bailleul and his cause, opposition

or criticism had been effectually silenced in the Corps LAgidatif; but he succeeded in drawing from Carnot his Reponse au Rapport de J.-C. BailleuI, the most authentic and interesting account extant of the working of the Constitution of 1795 and of the causes of its destruction.

Of the fifty-three persons condemned to transportation, fifteen only were in the hands of the Directors; many of the others had been arrested by Augereau’s officers but in the absence of instructions had been allowed to go free; a few, among them Cochon, were subsequently captured; but the greater number escaped. During the night of September 9 Barthelemy, Lafon-Ladebat, General Murinais, Rovere, and Tronson de Coudray, of the Anciens; Aubry, Bourdon of the Oise, de La Rue, Pichegru, and Willot, of the Five Hundred; Ramel, Brottier, Villeheur- nois, Dossonville—an officer of Police under Cochon—Suard—the well- known author—and Letellier—Barthelemy’s valet, who refused to leave his master—were taken from the Temple and conveyed to Rochefort.

Vae victis was one of the few unchanging revolutionary maxims. These were for the most part elderly men, who had held high office and done the State some service, and were now condemned to exile without trial. With a brutality which admits of no palliation they were carried across France in open iron cages on wheels, half starved and subjected to every form of insult and misery. On their arrival at Rochefort they were instantly transferred to’ a corvette and despatched on a voyage which lasted for more than seven weeks, during which time they lay in the bare hold fed on little more than mouldy biscuits and brackish water. After a short rest at Cayenne they were taken to a fever-stricken deserted village called Sinamary. Eight of the prisoners, Barthelemy, Pichegru, Aubry, de La Rue, Willot, Ramel, Dossonville, and Letellier, escaped in a canoe; Aubry and the brave valet Letellier died on the way; the others arrived after many adventures at Demerara, whence they were conveyed to England. Six of those who remained behind died within twelve months, two only, Lafon-Ladebat and Barbe-Marbois, survived and were brought back to France in 1799.

The new era of the Directory began by the removal of every magis­trate and official in the forty-nine Departments in which the elections had been annulled, and by the substitution for them of ex-Con ven- tionalists, Jacobins, and personal proteges of the Directors. In each district of France a military tribunal was instituted to identify and shoot emigres. The working of these tribunals depended greatly on the spirit of the members of each; in some districts the persons arraigned had as fair a trial as possible, in others accusation and identification were followed by immediate death. When Honaparte, already disgusted with the manner in which the Directors had used the victory which they owed to his aid, arrived at Toulon on his way to Egypt, he issued an order of the day on the conduct of the military tribunal of that town. The

order begins thus: “ I learn with profound grief that old men of seventy or eighty years, and women with young children have been shot on accusations of being emigres; have the soldiers of liberty become executioners?” In the course of the two years, September, 1797, to November, 1799, about 160 persons were shot by order of these tri­bunals ; a sinister commentary on the boasts of Boulay and Bailleul that “no blood had been spilt in consequence of the glorious victory of liberty.”

But the swift death by a musket-ball was not to be compared to the sufferings of the unhappy prisoners who underwent the punishment of the guiUotine seche, the term by which transportation to Cayenne became known. Fortunately for humanity only a few shiploads of prisoners were actually despatched. The English cruisers were on the alert; they drove one ship dismasted back to Rochefort, and captured a second with twenty-five priests on board. After this, imprisonment on the islands of Re and Oleron was substituted for transportation.

In all 363 prisoners, of whom 292 were priests, were sent to Cayenne. Of these 57 escaped or were rescued by the English; 187 died (mostly within a few months of their arrival); and 119 survived the Directory. On the islands 1212 priests and some hundreds of Bretons, journalists, and others, were imprisoned. As will be seen from these figures, the chief sufferers were priests. The Law of September 5, as has already been said, in addition to reenacting the revolutionary laws against the clergy, gave to the Directors the power to transport, without any further ceremony than a statement of their reason, any priest whom they con­sidered to have disturbed the public peace. It had been found impossible to compel the local authorities to enforce the laws against ecclesiastics, whom they were often more ready to protect than to persecute ; but from Directors such as Larevelliere, Merlin, or Francois, no priest could hope for mercy. Arrest followed the mention of his name or the most trivial complaint. The order sometimes set forth a definite offence, such as opposing the observance of the decadi or advocating Christian marriage; more often it ran in some such terms as these, “Seeing that A. B., priest, is a man of detestable morals and Junatidses."" Constitutional priests were as liable as others; and many were transported or imprisoned for refusing to transfer their Sunday services to the decadi. A few Protestant ministers were also sentenced; and several ex-priests who had married and joined the “Anarchist” party found that the indelibility of Holy Orders was not a mere theological dogma. The total number of priests, against whom these lettres de cachet were issued between September, 1797, and November, 1799, has been calculated at 1726 in France and 8225 in Belgium. Nearly 8000 of the latter were condemned by orders in blank, issued after the rising against the conscription in 1798; the majority escaped, being befriended by the entire population; but all those captured were imprisoned in France or Belgium.

It was. not by persecution alone that the Directory attempted to destroy Christianity. At a time when the country was in imminent danger of invasion, when every industry required support, when financial disaster threatened to overwhelm the State, when the chaos of con­flicting laws rendered the administration of justice almost impossible, the Directors and their Ministers made it the main object of their domestic policy to suppress the Christian Sundays and festivals and to substitute for them the observance of the decadis and republican fetes. Their object is expressed clearly in these terms: “to destroy the influence of the Roman religion by substituting for worn-out impressions new ones more conformable to reason.” To achieve this they issued laws, orders and circulars sufficient to fill volumes—the purport of all being to erect the decadi into a sort of Jewish Sabbath on which no Court, public office, shop, or factory, should be open, and no work publicly performed in town or country. All officials and school-children were ordered to attend on each dicadi at the appointed meeting-place of the Commune, usually the parish church, where a function took place con­sisting of the recitation of the official^il Bulletin decadaire” containing laws and judiciously selected news of the day, followed by tales of civic virtue and moral instructions often of inconceivable banality, and ending with the celebration of marriages, which could be legally performed only on that day. In Paris fifteen churches were appropriated to these services, all of which were renamed; Notre Dame becoming the Temple of the Supreme Being, Saint Eustache the Temple of Agriculture, and so forth.

On the other hand everything possible was done to suppress the observance of Sunday; schools were ordered to be kept open. No official or person over whom the government could exercise an influence was allowed to absent himself from work or to show any sign of holiday- making. In communes, where the administration was in the hands of the Directors’ nominees, the churches were locked up as Sunday came round. The same regulations were applied to all fasts and festivals; even the markets were ordered to be so arranged that fish should not be sold on Fridays or fast days. For the old festivals were substituted a series of fetes: some moral, such as the fete of Youth in March, of Marriage in April, of Old Age in July; others political, as the Execution of the last tyrant (January 21), Capture of the Bastille (July 14), Foundation of the Republic (September 22), Eighteenth Fructidor (September 4). But it was beyond the power of the Directors to force the whole nation to attend the d&cadis and fetes or to forget the old Sunday holiday. Spectators came to see the marriages on the decadis-, when there were none they stayed away. The peasants danced and drank on Sunday and refused to do either on the decadi. As for the fetes so eagerly celebrated in the early days of enthusiasm, they became a weariness to the flesh in these times of apathy, contempt, and disgust.

Next to the clergy the vengeance of the Directors fell most heavily

on the journalists. Before the coup d’etat the Directory had sent repeated Messages demanding stricter laws against the freedom of the press, which the Corps Legislatif had consistently refused to pass. Now the Directors had all they required; the Law of September 5 gave them the right to suppress any journal of which they disapproved, while a second law passed on September 8 confiscated forty-two of the principal newspapers and condemned their proprietors, editors, and writers to transportation. The greater number escaped; but one of the most distinguished, Suard, was included in the first ship-load transported to Cayenne; and many others followed him or were imprisoned at Ol&on or the lie de Re. Among those condemned in the years 1798 and 1799 were La Harpe, Fontanes, Michaud, and Lacretelle, in fact the majority of the small body of men of letters who had survived the Revolution.

During the months between the coup d’etat and the elections in the spring of 1798 the Corps Legislatif sank into complete dependence on the Directors and obeyed their orders almost implicitly. Nearly all those who had given dignity and prestige to its proceedings were swept away. The Law of September 5 had eliminated two hundred deputies, and others who had escaped proscription, as Thibaudeau, Dupont of Nemours, Doulcet, resigned or absented themselves. The promoters of the coup d'etat, now known as the “Fructidoriens,"" led the Councils; among these were Marie-Joseph Chenier, Tallien, Jean Debry, General Jourdan, Chazal, Bailleul, and Boulay. Sieyes could hardly be said to belong to any party, though he had been one of the most important promoters of the coup d'etat, and had sat on the Commission which drew up the Law of September 5. Beyond self-interest Sieyes was moved by few passions; but he was not free from a genuine hatred of all who had belonged to the former noblesse. He was responsible for the only attempt at in­dependent action on the part of the Councils. This was a proposition to “ ostracise,” that is to banish from France, every ex-noble or person who had held high office under the Monarchy. Characteristically he made Boulay his mouthpiece in bringing forward this scheme, which would have affected the lives and properties of many thousands of innocent persons. It met with such universal execration that it was promptly withdrawn, to be replaced by a foolish law declaring all ex-nobles to be foreigners who could obtain the rights of French citizens only by going through the process of naturalisation.

One measure of supreme importance was dictated to the Corps Ligislatif by the Directors and was passed by them on September 30,

1797,       the law of the Budget for the Year vi, which practically wrote off two-thirds of the interest on the Public Debt. This act of bankruptcy is dealt with in a later chapter; it is only possible here to repeat that the history of these years cannot be thoroughly understood without constantly bearing in mind the influence of the financial position on the political action of the government.

Under the Constitution the Primary Assemblies were due to meet in March, 1798, and the Electoral Colleges during the first days of April. The electors in this year were called upon to replace or reelect the last Third of the members of the Convention, as well as to fill the seats of those expelled in September, 1797. In all, 437 deputies, nearly two- thirds of the entire Corps Legislatif, were to be returned. The moderate party was crushed; but a fresh and more formidable opposition was coming to the front.

In the summer of 1797 the Directors had promoted the formation of “Constitutional Clubs” throughout the country. These clubs had grown rapidly, corresponded with each other, and accepted the direction of the central “Cercle ConstitutioTmel'" in Paris; they now formed a compact and powerful ultra-revolutionary organisation, which had become in­tensely hostile to the Directory and was supported by the great mass of the electorate. “ In old days we had one tyrant, now we have five,” was a sentiment which was shared not by Jacobins only but by all who had suffered from the bankruptcy or from the petty tyrants who represented the Directory. Long before the elections began it was obvious to the Directors and to the “ Fructidorians ” that they would be hopelessly beaten ; and they prepared to defend themselves after their own fashion.

Denunciations of anarchists and threats of a new Fructidor poured from the official presses; but the chief reliance of the Directors rested on the promotion of an organised system of “ scissions.” Wherever the Directorial party found itself in a minority in the Electoral Colleges, its members were encouraged to declare that the election was not free; to retire, form themselves into a separate college, and return their own candidate. By the electoral law as it stood the double return would be brought before the Chambers after the new members had taken their seats on May 20. But, to meet the exigencies of the present elections, the Fructidorians carried through the Corps Legislatif a new law giving the power of verifying the returns to the existing Chambers before the new members could sit. Accordingly the majority set to work to declare every new member in favour of the Directory duly returned, whether he had been chosen by the majority or by the minority in “ scission." But so few were the voters who had given their suffrage in favour of the Directory that even this ingenious device failed. Something more drastic was required, and it was not wanting.

A message was received from the Directory declaring that anarchists and Royalists were identical, and that both took their orders from the so-called King and must be again suppressed. A commission was appointed to consider this message, of which Bailleul was the spokes­man ; and on his report a law was hurried through both Chambers on May 11, 1798, which, after setting forth that the elections were the result of a Royalist conspiracy to return anarchists wherever they were not strong enough to return a Royalist, proceeded to declare the elections

in seven Departments entirely null and void, to select the candidates least objectionable to the Directory in twenty-three other Departments, and finally to exclude by name forty-eight “ anarchist ” deputies (among whom, of all possible people, was Cambaceres), from the remaining Departments. This second coup d'etat, known as that of 22 Floreal, An vi, passed off for the moment quite peaceably. Two days later Francois de NeufcMteau, probably by a preconcerted arrangement, drew the retiring ballot and was succeeded as Director by Treilhard, avocat and ex-member of the Convention, who had played a leading part in the coup d'Hat of September, 1797. Francis was shortly afterwards consoled by the Ministry of the Interior.

This was the last victory of the Directors. The elimination of deputies had not been sufficiently sweeping; and the men who had carried out the Directors’ latest coup d'etat either were, or found it necessary to appear, ashamed of the cynicism of their proceedings. The whole country was in revolt, and the Fructidorbns themselves changed sides during the course of the next twelve months, even Boulay and Bailleul changing their masters and accepting leading briefs from the other side.

Since September, 1797, the Directors had been absolute; their rule had led to nothing but ruin at home and the threat of disaster abroad. Nor was it merely failure with which the Directors were charged: they were accused also of promoting and fostering a new class of speculators, commissaries, and contractors, whose fortunes were built upon the public distress. The men, dishonest, reckless, and vulgar, flaunted their wealth in lavish or debauched display; the women lived in a sort of delirium of shamelessness, exhibiting themselves in costumes more indecent than nudity, changing their husbands at their own caprice, and trading on their charms or the influence of their lovers. Two at least of the Directors, Rewbell and Barras, were known to be the patrons of these people, and were believed to be their partners.

From June, 1798, to May, 1799, the Directors kept up a losing fight with the Corps Legislatif over the question of finance and supply. Their position was that there existed a large and not clearly ascertained deficit, that the expenses of the next year would amount to at least <£28,000,000, and that new means of increasing the revenue must be found. The Corps Legislatif denied that the revenue was insufficient, and declared that the financial difficulties were due to the waste and corruption of the executive. One Commission appointed to examine the demands of the Directory reported that “ no part of the administration was free from corruption and immorality”; another “that the deficit was caused solely by the most monstrous and revolting corruption and waste." Before the elections of 1799 the Directors themselves were not directly charged by name, but their Ministers and Commissaries were attacked with increasing energy. Those who were the objects of the most bitter denunciations

were Scherer, Minister of War, Trouve, Commissary at Milan, a protege of Larevelliere-Lepeaux, and Rapinat, Commissary in Switzerland, brother-in-law of Rewbell, whose harsh, overbearing rapacity had made his name a byword throughout Europe. The Directors so far bent before the storm as to recall Trouve and Rapinat and to remove Scherer by giving him the command of the Army of Italy, where the hatred in which he was held by officers and men contributed not a little to the series of disasters which befell the French throughout Italy in the spring and summer of 1799.

In the midst of these financial furies the Corps Legislatif passed the only law enacted under the Directory which has produced a permanent influence on history, the Law of Conscription. The armies of the Convention had been raised partly by voluntary enlistment, partly by the great levee en masse of 300,000 men made by the Committee of Public Safety. Five years of constant warfare had greatly reduced the strength of the French forces in the field. Bonaparte had carried the picked veterans to Egypt; and of those who remained 100,000 men were scattered from Amsterdam to Bern and Naples, barely sufficing to prevent the peoples of the vassal Republics which the Directors had founded in Holland, in Switzerland, and in Italy, from rising against their benefactors.

By the summer of 1798 it was clear that a renewal of the war with Austria was inevitable, and that the armies must be largely reinforced. To effect this a law proposed by General Jourdan was finally passed establishing the system of conscription, by declaring that all unmarried French citizens between the ages of twenty and twenty-five were liable to military service. The number of conscripts required each year was made the subject of an annual law. The young men in each Department were to be registered in five classes, the first consisting of those between twenty and twenty-one, and so on in an ascending scale of age to the last class, those between twenty-four and twenty-five. The conscripts each year were to be drawn from the first class, each subsequent class to be called out only in case the first did not furnish a sufficient number. Other clauses enacted that officers of the cavalry and infantry were to be appointed from those who had served for three years in the ranks, exception being made in favour of any who had shown special gallantry in action. This law, which placed so magnificent a weapon in the hands of Bonaparte, and which has for a century formed the basis of the military system of Europe, was under the Directory worse than a failure.

On September 24 the first annual law fixed the number of conscripts required at 200,000. The Directors reduced this to 184,000 by exclud­ing the Departments which had been ravaged by the Vendee and Chouam wars, nominally “to promote the growth of the population and re­establish agriculture,” in reality to stave off the outbreak of a fresh civil war. After eight months of strenuous effort not more than 37,000

conscripts had been drafted into the various armies. For the moment it seemed that military ardour was dead throughout France. Evasions, false certificates of marriage, self-mutilation, and wholesale desertion, formed not the exception but the rule. Of 1200 conscripts mustered at Aix all but 250 deserted in the course of a few weeks ; of 2000 conscripts marching from Luxembourg to Tours 1200 deserted; in the Haute Loire 1087 of the 1400 conscripts deserted; and so from north to south throughout the country.

In many Departments deserters were declared emigres, and their relatives imprisoned or heavily fined ; but such measures only aggravated the evil, for the outlawed deserters joined the brigands or formed themselves into bands and resisted arrest by force. In Belgium the conscription was met by open rebellion. The Belgians had been maddened by the robberies and insolence of the Commissaries, by the persecution of the clergy, and by the closing of the churches. The peasantry now rose against this last demand, and for three months, without leaders and without arms, held their ground against regular French troops, burning trees of liberty, reopening churches, and killing or driving away the French officials. They were at last subdued ; the whole body of the clergy, 8000 in number, as has already been said, were sentenced to imprisonment, and the peasants were mercilessly punished; but Belgium furnished few conscripts to the French army.

The Electoral Colleges met on April 23, 1799. The war with Austria and Russia had already opened disastrously. The electors knew that Jourdan had been defeated on the Rhine, that the armies of Italy had been everywhere beaten and were in full retreat, and that the only general in whom they had absolute faith was in Egypt. Alternately dreaded and despised at home, the Directors had hitherto been the dictators of war and peace abroad ; they had now lost their last security, the prestige of success. When the news of the assassination of the French envoys at Rastatt on April 28 arrived in Paris, it was loudly asserted that they had been murdered by order of the Directory. The assertion was of course ridiculous, but interesting as showing how completely the Directors were lost in public estimation.

The elections resulted in the return of a large number of advanced Jacobins, of nearly all those who had been excluded by the coup d'etat of May 11, 1798, and of a considerable contingent of those who had been known as Fructidorians, but were now the determined enemies of the existing Directors, if not of the Directory itself as a form of executive government. To complete the misfortunes of the Directors, Rewbell, the only man among them capable of facing the storm, retired by ballot on May 9.

Sieyes was at once elected in his place, and this time he did not refuse. He had been absent from France since May 10, 1798, on a mission of the highest importance, the object of which was to induce the

new King of Prussia, Frederick William III, to exchange his neutrality for an active alliance with France; and the belief, though absolutely unwarranted, that he had succeeded, raised still higher the curious prestige which attached itself to his name. His election may be taken as an acknowledgment by all parties in the State of the failure of the Constitution, and of their belief that he was the one Frenchman able to produce a new one.

Sieyes himself had been meditating a design to place a foreign prince on a constitutional throne ; he thought at one time of a marriage between the Archduke Charles and Madame Royale, afterwards of approaching the Duke of Brunswick. But these thoughts had led to no form of action, and were probably now replaced by a resolution to renew the project of the Constitution which had been so contemptuously set aside by the “ Commission of Eleven ” in 1795, reserving to himself in the post of Grand Elector as great an amount of dignity and emolument and as small an amount of responsibility as he could secure. What may have been his exact design is matter of conjecture; the one thing certain is that to elect him to the Directory was to admit the enemy within the fortress. His election marks the end of the Constitution of the Year 111. The events that followed, the expulsion of the then Directors, the hope­less failure of the Corps Ligislatif to take their place, the intrigues of Sieyes and Barras, all these belong to the history of the coup d'etat of Brumaire, and will be found in a later chapter, relating that momentous change in the history of the Revolution.

CHAPTER XYII.

THE EXTINCTION OF POLAND, 1788-97.

It is difficult for anyone whose knowledge of history goes no further back than the eighteenth century to realise that Poland was once a consider­able Power in Europe; that under its Jagello Kings it headed a successful struggle of the Slavs to resist German expansion and German domination ; that under the Vasa dynasty it was the stronghold of the Catholic reaction in northern Europe; that in the reign of John Sobieski it turned the scale in the last great struggle with the Turks and rolled back the victorious forces of the Crescent from the walls of Vienna. After Sobieski’s death the history of Poland is a record of rapid and apparently irretriev­able decadence. Its decline is usually attributed to the vices of its Con­stitution : to the elective monarchy and the pacta conventa which extorted from each successive King an acknowledgment of his impotence in the State; to the exclusive representation of the nobles in the Diet, and the absence of any middle class to bridge the gulf between the privileged oligarchy and the down-trodden serfs; to the liberum veto, which made unanimity necessary for any valid decision of the Diet, and gave to a faction, however inconsiderable in itself, the power of thwarting the national will; and finally to the anarchical right of Confederation, which made it lawful for a band of nobles to pursue a common aim even by force of arms. Nowhere, except perhaps in fifteenth century Scotland, were conditions so favourable to disorder; and nowhere was there less efficient machinery for its repression.

But it is a mistake to suppose that this very faulty constitution was the only or even the most prominent cause of the decline of Poland. The maintenance of its former power and importance was rendered im­possible by the rise of the two neighbouring States of Russia and Prussia. Russia aspired to be the greatest of Slavonic States, and strove to identify the interests of the Slavs with those of the Greek Church. Hitherto Poland had been without question the most influential and the most civilised of the Slavonic kingdoms, but she had received Christianity from the Church of Rome. As Poland was also an obstacle to the connexion with Germany from which Russia derived a chief part of her western

teaching, it was inevitable that Russian expansion must be harmful and probably fatal to Poland. Equally deeply-rooted was the antagonism of Prussia. The Prussian Kings took their title from that part of Prussia which they inherited from the Teutonic Knights. The Knights, who constituted as it were a corporate ancestor of the Hohenzollems, had formerly waged a successful crusade against the Slavs on the southern side of the Baltic, but had ultimately been worsted and deprived both of their independence and of the bulk of their territory by the Jagello Kings, who united Lithuania with Poland. East Prussia remained a Polish fief till after the middle of the seventeenth century; and even then the Province was until 1772 completely severed from Brandenburg, the kernel of the Hohenzollem dominions, by the Polish Province of West Prussia. Moreover the Electors of Brandenburg and Kings of Prussia were Protestants; and after the conversion of the Saxon dynasty they became the recognised champions of Protestant interests in northern Germany. In this capacity they were necessarily hostile to Poland, which had long upheld the cause of militant Roman Catholicism. On every ground, therefore, geographical, political, and religious, the interests of Poland were opposed to those of her eastern and her western neighbour.

Of the two hostile States Russia was by far the more active enemy of Poland. In 1733, on the death of Augustus II of Saxony, the Poles chose a native King, who was also the father-in-law of the King of Prance. Russia vetoed the election, and compelled the Poles to accept a second Saxon ruler, in the person of Augustus III. Prussia on this occa­sion remained sulkily neutral, because she had every reason to dislike the union of Saxony and Poland, and was not yet familiar with the idea of cooperation with Russia. But thirty years later, when the Polish throne was again vacant, Russia and Prussia acted in complete harmony. By their treaty in 1764 they agreed to procure the election of a native noble, to prevent the abolition of the liberum veto or the establishment of hereditary monarchy, and to introduce a new element of discord into the Republic by releasing the dissidents, both Protestants and members of the Greek Church, from the law which excluded them from political employments. The first of these objects, owing to the weakness or apathy of the Powers which should have supported Poland, was achieved without difficulty. The Poles elected Stanislas Poniatowski, whose personal charms had gained for him a prominent place among the numerous lovers of Catharine II. His chief qualification from the Russian point of view was that he was likely to be a docile vassal to the mistress who had been so lavish as to reward him with a crown. But Stanislas’ weak and impulsive nature was open to influence from within as well as from without. In the intervals between his fits of terror at the possible displeasure of the Czarina, he was a zealous Roman Catholic and a patriotic Pole. He desired, as did the bulk of his subjects, to maintain

the ascendancy of the established Church, and to strengthen Poland by reforming its lamentable constitution. But Russian arguments “armed with cannon and bayonets” were more than Polish King or Diet could resist. Under the open dictation of the Russian ambassador, backed up by a Russian army, the Diet voted in 1767 the repeal of the laws against the dissidents, and in 1768 accepted a treaty by which Russia guaranteed the integrity of the Polish territory and the maintenance of the Polish constitution.

Ecclesiastical zeal combined with patriotic fervour to impel all lovers of their country and its Church to resist the foreign Power which attacked both the religion and the independence of Poland. In 1768 the Con­federation of Bar was formed by the malcontent nobles, with the object of restoring the supremacy of Roman Catholicism and repudiating the treaty with Russia. The latter Power at once employed all its force to crush what it chose to regard as a rebellion. But Austria and Prance encouraged the Confederates, while Turkey seized the first pretext to declare war against Russia. Thus Russian intervention in Poland seemed likely to lead to a European war on a large scale. Frederick the Great, who must have been drawn into such a war as the ally of Russia, was eager to continue the work of peaceful administration, which was necessary to enable his country to recover from its exhausting efforts during the last great struggle. He saw that Austria held the key of the situation, and that Austria could only be appealed to through her cupidity. But at whose expense could a bribe be furnished? Turkey had provinces which were coveted at Vienna; but Turkey was still too strong to be partitioned, and Prussia had no interest in weakening the Porte. There remained Poland, too feeble and distracted to resist, and the possessor of districts which were of incalculable value to the Prussian King. The project of partition, adroitly suggested from Berlin, was found to provide the easiest and the most attractive solution of all difficulties. Maria Theresa took the bribe with tears of shame and remorse, but the more she wept the more territory she demanded. In 1772 the three robber-Powers made a treaty by which they agreed that in order to restore public tranquillity they would enforce claims upon Poland which were “ as ancient as they were legitimate.” It took three years of in­timidation to overcome Polish resistance; but in 1775 the Diet at last consented to the ccssion of territory, to the creation of a permanent Council which was to be a mere agent of Russia, and to a renewed guarantee of its constitution by the Powers who had used that con­stitution as a pretext for intervention and for self-aggrandisement. Russia took the Provinces adjacent to its frontier; Austria took Galicia; and Prussia obtained the coveted Province of West Prussia, but without the municipal republics of Danzig and Thom, which remained in nominal subjection to Poland.

The First Partition left Poland not only weakened by the loss of nearly

one-third of her territory, but also to all intents and purposes a depend­ency of Russia. Russian troops were quartered in the country; and the Russian ambassador was as omnipotent at Warsaw as is the British Resident at the court of a petty Indian prince. The spirit of a proud nation chafed indignantly at the undisguised exercise of foreign dictation; and the violent antipathy to Russia generated during these years strengthened the conviction that a thorough reform of the constitution was necessary if Poland was ever to recover its independence. Gradually the prospects of the reforming party were improved by external events. In 1780 the alliance between Russia and Prussia, which had been so disastrous to Poland, came to an end. The Austro-Russian alliance, which took its place, was more threatening to Turkey than to Poland. With Austria the relations of Poland had been traditionally friendly. The two States had been united from time to time by common hostility to Protestantism and to the Turks. It is true that their good understanding had been occasionally interrupted by the influence of France in Poland; but since 1756 the long antagonism between France and Austria had come to an end. Austria had joined in the partition of 1772; but it was notorious that she had been to the last moment an unwilling accomplice. Austria had no reason, such as Prussia had, either to dread a revival of Poland, or to prohibit a reunion of Poland and Saxony.

So far, therefore, as Austrian influence supplanted that of Prussia at St Petersburg, Poland was justified in congratulating herself on the exchange. In 1787 the Turks declared war against Russia. In 1788 Joseph II announced his intention of taking up arms against the Turks, but on the other hand Sweden attacked Russia, and the Triple Alliance was formed between Prussia and the Maritime Powers to thwart the ambitious designs of the two imperial Courts. These events had a decisive influence upon the position of Poland, whose alliance was sought on both sides. Catharine II offered to renew her guarantee of the integrity of the Polish territories, and demanded leave to raise in Poland thirty thousand horsemen for the Russian army. Stanislas hoped to induce the Czarina to consent to the establishment of here­ditary monarchy in return for Polish assistance. Meanwhile Prussia also made overtures to Poland, The Prussian envoy, Buchholz, pointed out that the Russian guarantee could only be directed against Prussia, and offered that Frederick William II would undertake a similar obliga­tion. He urged that the Turks had done nothing to incur the hostility of Poland, and that the weakening of Turkey would strengthen the Power which already domineered over the Republic. Finally, he held out hopes that Prussia would support a substantial measure of consti­tutional reform. It was at this juncture that the famous “ Four years’ Diet” met at Warsaw on October 6, 1788.

In the dietines, or preliminary meetings of electors, the anti-Russian

party had triumphed; and the majority of the nances were in favour of Polish independence and of constitutional reform. The first measure of the Diet, on October 7, was to form itself into a Confederation, so as to avoid the paralysing effect of the liberum veto. The proposals for cooperation with Russia were not even submitted to the assembly, which demanded the immediate withdrawal of the Russian troops from Polish soil. Catharine, who needed all her forces against Turkey and Sweden, could not refuse to comply. The permanent Council, which had been established in 1775, was abolished, and thus Russian domina­tion was for the moment overthrown. At the same time the overtures of Prussia were eagerly welcomed, and the leaders of the reforming party put themselves in close communication with the Prussian and English ambassadors. Unfortunately for Poland, there was no leader who realised the imperative importance of haste. The favourable circumstances of 1788 and 1789 were not likely to be indefinitely prolonged. If the reforms of 1791 had been adopted two years earlier, they would at any rate have had a chance of taking root, and also Prussia might have been so pledged to their maintenance that she could not break faith. But the opportunity was allowed to slip and it never returned.

It must be admitted that there were many excuses for delay. The Poles were not experts in constitutional procedure, and the possibilities of obstruction were veiy great. King Stanislas at the commencement was still under Russian influence, and it was only very gradually that his extreme dread of St Petersburg was overpowered by a sense of loyalty to the interests of the nation. The conclusion of a treaty with Prussia was impeded, partly by the suspicion which Prussia’s past attitude towards Poland excited, and partly by Hertzberg’s desire for a bargain by which Danzig and Thom were to be given up in return for some cession on the part of Austria. The more patriotic the reformers were, the more they hesitated to approve a transaction which involved the surrender of Polish territory; while mercantile interests were opposed to any weakening of Polish control of its one great navigable river, the Vistula. And although the principle of reform was accepted by the majority in the Diet, it was by no means easy to obtain any general agreement as to details. Thus it was notorious that the practice of electing to the kingship had over and over again given occasion for domestic discord and foreign intervention. Yet the proposal to establish hereditary succession ran counter to many of the strongest prejudices of the Poles, and was inconsistent with their traditional conception of “liberty.” The admission to the Diet of urban delegates was impera­tively necessary to give stability and unity to the State; but many of the nobles hesitated to sacrifice their prescriptive monopoly of political power. It was a moot point whether constitutional change should precede or follow the conclusion of an alliance with Prussia and the Maritime States. Almost every question offered unlimited opportunity

for that discursive eloquence which in Poland took the place of orderly debate.

It was not until March 29, 1790, that the defensive treaty with Prussia was formally approved, and it contained no stipulation with regard to Danzig and Thom. This has often been held to have been a mistake on the part of the Polish patriots. If the Prussian alliance was all-important, it was foolish to- be too scrupulous and niggardly about the terms. A sacrifice at the time might have served to avert far greater losses in the future. As it was, Prussia was chagrined by Polish obstinacy; and the Conference of Reichenbach, which finally disappointed Prussia’s hopes of making a profit out of the Eastern imbroglio, made the Polish alliance comparatively valueless at Berlin. With the rupture of the Austro-Russian alliance the Eastern Question receded more and more into the background; and the probability steadily grew that Prussia would find it to her interest to repudiate her obligations to Poland, as she had already repudiated her obligations to Turkey. So long as Poland could be useful, it was desirable that the Republic should be strengthened in every way; and the partisans of reform were encouraged to proceed with their work in confident reliance upon Prussian support. But when the need of the alliance was at an end, Prussia almost inevitably reverted to the old policy of keeping Poland weak and divided.

Yet the Diet at Warsaw continued to discuss schemes of reform as if nothing had occurred to diminish the chance of carrying them out. Progress was as slow as ever. The extreme limit of the duration of a Diet was two years, and the term was rapidly approaching. It was obviously absurd to leave an unfinished task to wholly new hands. The difficulty, which gave rise to prolonged discussion, was at last met by ordering fresh elections to take place, but the delegates chosen were to be added to those already sitting. This doubling of the Diet, which took place on December 16,1790, made little difference to the balance of parties, but it certainly did not tend to shorten debate. In the early months of 1791 two decisions were reached. Certain regulations were made with regard to the procedure of future Diets. As opinion was not yet prepared to accept the vote of a simple majority, it was agreed that declarations of war, treaties of peace, and political laws should require a majority of three-quarters of the assembly, whereas taxes could be voted by two-thirds; and it was laid down as a perma­nent rule that no Diet might authorise a cession of territory, which had the effect of still further cooling the zeal of Prussia in the Polish cause. At this rate the new Constitution would take years to enact. The opposition, composed partly of bigoted Republicans and partly of more or less interested partisans of Russia, justified its resolute obstruction by appealing to a law of 1768, which made unanimity necessary for any change in fundamental laws.

To overcome obstruction it was necessary for the reformers to resort to something like a coup d'etat. It was agreed to bring forward a draft Constitution ready made, and to carry it en bloc by acclamation so as to avoid the endless discussion of successive clauses. Stanislas, who had now thrown himself on the patriotic side, undertook the task of making the formal proposition. The date originally chosen was antici­pated by two days through fear of premature disclosures; and on May 3, 1791, Stanislas Poniatowski enjoyed the finest triumph of his life. Proceedings commenced with a report of the Committee of Foreign Affairs, in which stress was laid upon dangers which threatened the Republic, the possibility of a new partition, the avowed hostility of Russia, the risk of treachery on the part of Prussia, and the corruption of native Poles by foreign gold. A marshal of the Diet solemnly called upon the King to propose some means of saving the State. In response to this appeal Stanislas declared his conviction that safety could only be attained by the establishment of a new Constitution, and announced that he held the plan of such a Constitution in his hands. The reading of the draft was followed by impassioned speeches; and from the loud expressions of applause or dissent the opinion of the vast majority could be clearly gathered. Amid intense excitement the King rose to take a solemn oath to observe the new Constitution, and called upon the Deputies to follow him to the cathedral so as to give added solemnity to their momentous decision. Some twelve members remained gloomily obstinate in their seats; the rest streamed in an impressive procession through the midst of an applauding mob from the palace to the church, where before the high altar they recited the formula of the royal oath.

The main object of the Constitution was to give such power to the monarchy that it should be able in the future to maintain national unity and to suppress disorder. Henceforth the throne was to be filled, not by election, but by hereditary succession. On the death of the reigning King the crown was to pass to the Elector of Saxony and his heirs, either male or female. The King was to have supreme control of the army, and the nomination of members of the Senate and of officers of State. Executive power was to be in the hands of the King and of six responsible ministers. The right of legislation was vested in the Diet, which was to consist of two Chambers, to meet every two years, and to include deputies from the free towns. All laws were to be approved by the King, but his veto could only postpone the execution of a law from one Diet to another. The liberum veto and the right of Con­federation were suppressed “ as contrary to the spirit of the present Constitution and tending to trouble the State.” Roman Catholicism was to remain the dominant religion of the State and proselytism was forbidden; but toleration was assured to the adherents of other creeds.

Poland was for the moment tranquil and triumphant. Many of the most strenuous opponents of reform declared their intention of accepting

the new system of government when they were convinced that it had received the approval of the nation. But the maintenance of the Con­stitution of May 3 depended less on the wishes of the Poles themselves than on the action of the neighbouring States; and to understand what followed it is necessary to form a clear conception of their attitude. In attempting to do this it is imperative to remember that the Polish Question was not and could not be isolated from the other great ques­tions which agitated Europe at the time, the growing demand for inter­vention in France, and the unfinished negotiations for a final settlement of the Eastern Question. As regards Poland it is perfectly easy to define the policy adopted at St Petersburg. The promulgation of the new Constitution was a deliberate act of defiance to Russia. Catharine II had from the first warned the Poles that she would not tolerate any infringement of the Constitution which she had guaranteed in 1768 and again in 1775. Hitherto she had been so busied with military opera­tions in the south and north that she had been compelled to neglect the affairs of Poland. But in the spring of 1791 her hands were com­paratively free. She had concluded a Treaty with Gustavus IH, and she had announced her willingness to concede peace to the Turks on condi­tion that Oczakoff should be ceded to Russia. That condition was resented by England and by Prussia; but their hostility was already discounted by Pitt’s inability to carry public opinion with him in his resistance to Russian aggrandisement. As soon as the Turkish war was at an end—and the preliminaries of peace were signed in August— Catharine had made up her mind to subordinate all other considerations to the imperative necessity of restoring Russian domination in Poland. There was only one obstacle in the way of active measures. Catharine required a preliminary assurance that she would not be impeded by the joint opposition of Austria and Prussia. In 1791 it was not possible to gain this assurance, and therefore Russian intervention in Poland was postponed. But it is characteristic of Catharine that she had clearly formulated in her own mind a way out of the novel difficulty created by the momentary cooperation of two States which had for half a century been implacably hostile to each other. “ I cudgel my brains,” she said, “to urge the Courts of Vienna and Berlin to busy themselves with the affairs of France. I wish them to do this that I may have my own elbows free. I have many unfinished enterprises and I wish these two Courts to be fully occupied so that they may not disturb me.” It was for this that Catharine was waiting. So soon as Austria and Prussia were engaged in France, Russia was prepared to deal with Poland.

The attitude of Austria is equally clear. Leopold II had deliberately abandoned the pro-Russian policy of his predecessor, and had reverted to the sounder traditions of Maria Theresa. Nothing could be more in harmony with the essential interests of Austria than the existence of a

strong Polish State, united by dynastic ties with Saxony, and equally ready to oppose the ambitions of Russia on the one side or of Prussia on the other. Such a State would immensely strengthen Roman Catholicism and revive Austrian influence in northern Germany. It would probably put an end to the Fiirstenbund. To Leopold, therefore, it was an obvious and imperative duty to support the new Polish Constitution. So distinct was Austrian interest in the matter that it has been held, though without adequate documentary evidence, that Austria must have inspired the coup d'etat of May 3.

For Prussia the problem was far less simple than for the other two Powers. Some glimpses have already been given of the conflict of interests in Berlin. In itself the reorganisation of Poland, and still more the reunion of Poland with Saxony, ran counter to all the legiti­mate ambitions of Prussia. The cession of Danzig and Thom might have rendered the dose more palateable, but without the sweetmeat it was undisguisedly nauseous. Hertzberg urged the straightforward course of promptly denouncing the Constitution and demanding its withdrawal. But Hertzberg’s influence had been declining since Reichenbach; and in 1791 he was practically superseded by Bischoffswerder, a Saxon by birth, who had obtained almost complete ascendancy over the feeble-minded Frederick William II. Bischoffswerder was eager to bring about an alliance between Austria and Prussia, to which the chief hindrance was the Emperor’s delay in the negotiations at Sistova. Prussia was gradu­ally drifting from the firm lines of policy which Frederick the Great had pursued and Hertzberg had more or less endeavoured to follow. During the transition from one system to another vacillation was almost in­evitable ; and this vacillation is most clearly to be seen in the relations of Prussia with Poland. Moreover in May, 1791, there was still a possibility of a war with Russia on the Turkish question; and until that was completely removed it was obviously impolitic on the part of Prus 1a to quarrel with a possible ally in Poland. All these con­siderations help to explain if not to justify those acts of Frederick William which afterwards brought upon him the imputation of the grossest perfidy.

On May 16 the Prussian envoy at Warsaw in a formal communica­tion to the Diet expressed his master’s pleasure at “the firm and decisive conduct of the Estates, which he regards as best fitted to give a solid foundation to the government and the prosperity of Poland.” At the same time the Prussian King sent his congratulations to the Elector of Saxony, and urged him to accept the proffered succession to the Polish throne. The only reservation which he made was, that in case of the accession of an heiress, her husband must not be chosen from any of the three dynasties of Russia, Prussia, or Austria. Bischoffswerder was sent from Berlin on a special embassy to the Emperor, who was in Italy. The negotiations were delayed by Leopold’s parade of a desire to

conciliate Russia, which was a mere ruse to raise the value of his ultimate agreement, and also by the necessity of delaying any final conclusion until his return to Vienna. But on July 25 Bischoffswerder signed the preliminaries of a treaty between Austria and Prussia, by which it was agreed to guarantee the integrity and the free Constitution of Poland, to invite the Elector of Saxony to accept the Polish offers, and to make a formal stipulation prohibiting the accession to the throne of Poland of any Prince belonging to the three neighbouring States.

The alliance of Austria and Prussia was almost as startling a diplo­matic revolution as the Treaty of Versailles between Prance and Austria in 1756. In September the Emperor and the Prussian King held their famous interview at Pillnitz, a seat of the Elector of Saxony. Although the discussions were mainly concerned with the affairs of France, the very place of meeting was significant of a common understanding with regard to Poland, and the agreement of July was renewed. At the same time, intervention in France was made conditional on the con­certed action of the great Powers, and England had formally declared in favour of a policy of abstention. L^e0P°ld II was too wary to fall into the very obvious trap set by the royalist intrigues and lofty professions of Catharine II. He knew that a war with France would leave Poland at the mercy of Russia, and for this and other reasons he desired peace in the west. It was an immense relief to him when the acceptance of the French Constitution by Louis XVI seemed for a time to remove foreign intervention from practical politics.

At the end of 1791 the position of affairs was this. Russia was anxious to overthrow the recent Constitution and with it the in­dependence of Poland. But Catharine’s hand was stayed for the time by the agreement of Austria and Prussia to uphold the Polish Con­stitution, and by her failure so far to induce any European Prince except Gustavus III to undertake a crusade in the cause of monarchy in France. So long as this state of things continued, Poland was com­paratively safe, though the Poles made little use of their brief interval of security to prepare for the inevitable struggle in the future. But in the early months of 1792 a series of events made the prospect far less propitious for Poland than it had hitherto been. On January 9 Russia finally closed the Turkish war by the Treaty of Jassy, and the Russian armies were free to act elsewhere. On January 18 the Franconian principalities of Ansbach and Baireuth reverted to Frederick William II, as head of the House of Hohenzollem, on the abdication of his rela­tive, the ruling Prince. This tended to revive a feeling of jealousy between Vienna and Berlin, as Austria had every reason to dislike an extension of Prussian power into southern Germany. At the same time the Prussian King showed a growing unwillingness to uphold what was distinctly an Austrian policy with regard to Poland. When the preliminary treaty of July 25 was transformed on February 7 into the

definite Treaty of Berlin, the engagement to maintain “ the free Con­stitution of Poland” was practically annulled by the alteration into “a free Constitution.” The substitution of the indefinite for the definite article pledged Prussia to as much or as little as she chose. Leopold was profoundly chagrined; but it was impossible to break off the negotiation on the point because the bellicose attitude of the majority in the Legislative Assembly was rendering it more and more difficult to avoid a war with France. On March 1 Leopold II suddenly died, and with him perished all hopes of a peaceful maintenance of the status quo. His successor, Francis II, was young and inexperienced, and before long he fell under the influence cf politicians who believed that Austria would profit by war. The eminently cautious and farsighted policy of Leopold was abandoned; and Austria reverted to that reckless acquisitiveness which had characterised the rule of Joseph II. From this time events marched with rapidity. A Girondin ministry came into power in France; and on April 20 the French Assembly declared war against Austria. Prussia, which had for some time been more eager for a rupture than its ally, prepared at once to cany out the obligations which it had undertaken by the recent treaty.

This was the conjuncture for which Catharine had been waiting; and Poland soon learned how insecure were the foundations on which the new Constitution rested. In April the long-delayed answer of the Elector of Saxony was received at Warsaw. In it he declared that he could only accept the Polish offer on condition that it was approved by the neighbouring Powers, and that certain changes were made in the Constitution, notably the securing of the Crown to future Electors of Saxony by the exclusion of female succession. This was equivalent to a refusal, as Russia had already denounced the Constitution, and Prussia was bound to oppose the permanent union of Poland with Saxony. The chiefs of the Polish malcontents, who had spent the winter in Russia waiting for the instructions of their mistress, now returned to Poland, and on May 14 formed the Confederation of Targowice. In their manifesto they denounced the recent establishment of despotism in Poland, demanded the restoration of liberty and the old constitution, and appealed to Russia for assistance. Four days later the Russian Minister presented to the Diet Catharine’s formal declaration of her intention to support the Confederation. On May 19, little more than a fortnight after the anniversary of the new Constitution had been formally celebrated at Warsaw, one Russian army entered Poland and another crossed the frontier into Lithuania.

The Poles were as panic-stricken as if they had had no reason to anticipate such action on the part of Russia. The Diet voted almost absolute powers to the King. The army was placed under his command; and he was authorised, if he thought it necessary, to raise a levee en masse. The whole revenue, together with large loans, were entrusted

to his disposal. He could select officers, grant promotion, and raise men to noble rank at his complete discretion. In return for this con­fidence Stanislas swore to defend with his life the nation and the Constitution. At the same time an appeal was made to Prussia to fulfil the stipulations of the treaty of 1790. The appeal had been foreseen at Berlin, and the Prussian Court was furnished with a cynical and unblushing answer. The gist of it was that the Poland which Prussia had promised to defend was the Poland of 1790 : this had been completely transformed by the acceptance of a Constitution which had been drawn up without the knowledge and concurrence of Prussia; therefore Prussia was under no obligation to defend Poland in 1792. The issue of a contest, in which the Poles were left without assistance to oppose the overwhelming military strength of Russia, was never for a moment in doubt. They displayed both courage and capacity in several encounters, notably in an engagement at Dubienka, where Kosciusko enhanced the military reputation which he had gained under Washington in the American War. But superior numbers always turned the scale and compelled the Polish forces to retreat. In the course of six weeks the whole country was practically in Russian occupation, and effective resistance was at an end.

Stanislas, in spite of his oath, had never joined the army, nor even left Warsaw. He was neither a fool nor a hero, and he would not commit himself to what he knew to be a hopeless struggle On July 22 he signed his adhesion to the Confederation of Targowice, and justified his action on the ground that it was the only way to avoid a partition. His position at the time, denounced by one party and distrusted by both, was not enviable. He was nominally King; but his power was annulled both by the restoration of the old constitution and by the supremacy which the events of the war placed in the hands of the leaders of the Confederation. They in their turn were mere puppets of Russia, as they learned to their cost when they tried to govern independently and to gain private profit from their success. Poland, which a few months before had almost aspired to the rank of a great Power, was again to all intents and purposes a Province of Russia.

Catharine owed her easy triumph mainly to the interested complicity of Prussia and the preoccupation of Austria in the western war. But in spite of these advantages she could not venture to retain exclusive possession of her prey, though she would have liked to do so. Even before the outbreak of the French war she had thought it wise to disarm any possible hostility on the part of Prussia by suggesting another partition of Poland. Once started, the proposal was not likely to be readily abandoned, and in fact it took a prominent place in the negotiations between Austria and Prussia with reference to their cooperation in France. ’ Disinterested intervention in the cause of a brother King, or even of monarchy in the abstract, was quite beyond

the normal bounds of international ethics in the eighteenth century. Both States intended to be paid for their services; and it was obviously desirable to avert a possible dispute by securing some preliminary agreement as to their respective rewards. At the same time it was felt to be rather awkward to mulct a Prince whose cause they pro­fessed to espouse; and such a scheme was not likely to conciliate the French royalists, whose support was counted upon in the campaign. So, although Austria at one time would have liked to recover Alsace or to restore the dispossessed dynasty in Lorraine, the idea of purloining French provinces was for the time abandoned. It became necessary, therefore, to look for payment elsewhere.

Quite early in the negotiations Prussia, encouraged by the suggestion from St Petersburg, declared her intention to take a portion of Poland; although the integrity of Poland, if not its later Constitution, had been guaranteed by the Treaty of 1790. The lesson of perfidy is soon learnt and easily repeated. Austria—and here the reversion to Joseph II’s policy is most conspicuous—fell back upon the old scheme of exchanging the Netherlands for Bavaria. This was also suggested from St Petersburg—so eager was Catharine to find sops to pacify the recent upholders of Polish independence. This projected exchange had been foiled before by Prussian opposition : but, if that opposition were now withdrawn, there seemed to be no longer any insuperable difficulty in carrying it out. It is true that Kaunitz, who had previously favoured the exchange, deemed it monstrous that Prussia should be allowed to join in penalising Poland for having framed a Constitution which Austria had formally approved. But Kaunitz had as little influence over Francis II as over his father; his advice was contemned, and in August, 1792, he retired from an office which he had held for half a century. As Austria had made up her mind to abandon the Poles, it was easy for Russia to come to terms with the Emperor by a treaty signed on July IS, 1792, which approved of the restoration of the old Constitution in Poland. On August 7 a similar treaty was made with Prussia. Nothing was said in either treaty about partition. Catharine was satisfied to have obtained the sanction of the two Courts for her coercion of Poland, and left them to settle between themselves the question of compenss¹ on for their efforts in the French war. This had not been settled before the outbreak of hostilities, and continued to be a subject of incessant and sometimes acrimonious negotiation during the autumn and winter of 1792.

On neither side was any attempt made to disguise the unprincipled rapacity of both governments or their profound mutual distrust. Prussia, abandoning the very foundations of Frederick’s policy, agreed to consent to the Austrian acquisition of Bavaria for the Netherlands, on condition that Prussia should take a part of Poland. This failed to satisfy the ministers at Vienna, who pointed out that the Prussian gain

would be immediate, whereas that of Austria was contingent on the Elector of Bavaria’s consent. Also a Polish Province was an actual increase of territory, while a mere exchange of one possession for another might bring to Austria no increase either of population or of revenue. On the sacred ground of the equal balance Austria calmly proposed that Prussia should add the Brandenburg principalities of Ansbach and Baireuth to Bavaria. Nothing could have been better calculated to excite fury at Berlin than the suggestion that Prussia should hand over territory to Austria, that she should make a sacrifice to benefit her detested ally, and that that sacrifice should consist of these ancient possessions of the House of Hohenzollem. The refusal of Frederick William was so vehement and decisive that Austria was forced either to withdraw the demand or to break up the alliance.

Then new difficulties arose. The allied forces withdrew not without ignominy from Champagne; the French pressed on into the Netherlands; and Dumouriez won the battle of Jemappes. The Provinces which had been so recently rescued from the hands of native rebels, fell at the first blow to a foreign invader. The exchange project faded at once into the dim distance. How could Charles Theodore be asked to hand over Bavaria in exchange for territories of which Austria could no longer dispose ? All the more feverishly did Austria insist upon the principle of equality. If Prussia gained a part of Poland with the approval of Russia, then Austria, sooner than wait for her equivalent, must at the same time have an equal share of Poland. To this rather belated demand Prussia would not consent; and even if Prussia had given way Russia would probably have interposed an effective veto. But, un­fortunately for Austria, the actual condition of affairs gave an enormous advantage in the negotiation to the allied but none the less rival State. Prussia could withdraw from the war without loss, and loudly threatened that she would do so if her demands were not accepted both by Austria and by Russia. On the other hand Austria could neither abandon the war, leaving the Netherlands in French occupation, nor could she afford to dispense with Prussian aid. Haugwitz, who represented Prussia in the dispute, found no difficulty in playing a diplomatic hand of such over­whelming strength ; and on December 19 he extorted from the Austrian government a grudging and ungracious consent to a separate agreement between Berlin and St Petersburg with regard to Poland. But Austria did not abandon her claims upon Poland, although she ceased to press for their immediate satisfaction; and confidential communications with Russia Urged that the concessions to Prussia should be cut down to the smallest possible dimensions.

To Catharine the spectacle of this rather undignified comedy had given undiluted pleasure. The more Austria and Prussia quarrelled, the better could Russia return to its old game of playing one off against the other. For a moment it seemed possible that she might utilise their

growing jealousy to keep Poland in its present state of subjection, and withdraw the suggestion of partition which had been made under wholly different circumstances. A more impulsive or less prudent ruler would probably have yielded to the temptation. But Catharine could exercise consummate self-restraint in political affairs. It was safer, and therefore in the end better, to be content with a smaller gain than to run the risk of driving Austria and Prussia into a closer alliance with each other and also into an abandonment of the French war. To keep them at war, and to keep Russia out of the war, meant her own undisturbed dictatorship in the East. For this it was worth while to make some sacrifice in order to satisfy the greed of Prussia. Having once made up her mind, Catharine acted with characteristic promptitude. Instead of haggling over the rather exorbitant pretensions of Prussia, she simply met them by largely increasing the Russian share.

The terms of the Partition Treaty were arranged with great rapidity. The Prussian share, which included Danzig and Thom as well as the district of Posen, was estimated to contain a population of a million and a half. The Provinces assigned to Russia were four times as extensive and included at least twice as many inhabitants. The two Powers agreed to use their good offices to procure for Austria the exchange of the Netherlands for Bavaria with “ such other advantages as may suit the general welfare.” This left open the possibility of punishing France for its adoption of an avowedly aggressive policy. Prussia pledged herself to continue the war until order had been restored in France and the French conquests were given up. Although these provisions were designed to propitiate Vienna, it was felt that a partition of Poland from which Austria was altogether excluded must be so distasteful to that State that it was agreed to keep the provisions secret until steps had been taken to carry the treaty into effect. So far as Russia was concerned this was already done, since Russian troops were in occupation of more than the Provinces to be annexed. Prussia lost no time in gaining a similar position. The Treaty of Partition was not actually signed until January 23, 1793. But on January 14 a Prussian army under the com­mand of Mollendorf entered Poland; and two days later was published the extraordinary manifesto in which Frederick William announced his intention of saving Europe from contagion by crushing the germs of French revolutionary doctrines in Poland. The pretext was a monstrous piece of hypocrisy, but the Prussian advance was none the less irresistible. In fact the Poles were absolutely helpless. Their strong places were held by Russian garrisons, and their troops were scattered over the country under the eye of superior Russian forces. The only place which offered any resistance was Danzig, and a few rounds of artillery fire were enough to compel its surrender. By the end of the third week of March the preparations for enforcing the treaty were complete. The Poles within the stipulated boundaries received notification that they had suddenly

become either Russian or Prussian subjects and that they must take an oath of allegiance to their new masters. At the same time a formal communication was made to the Court of Vienna of the precise terms of the Partition Treaty.

Neither to the Poles nor to the Austrian government can the news have come exactly as a surprise. The events of the last few weeks had given ample proof that Russia and Prussia had come to terms with each other, and their agreement necessarily implied partition. Nevertheless the final removal of all uncertainty caused to both the most acute sen­sations of disgust and anger. Austria, from her own point of view, had been not only overreached but treated with great contempt. While the two neighbouring and rival States were taking to themselves new lands, new subjects, new sources of revenue, and new recruiting grounds for their armies, Austria was to be content with the assurance of “ good offices ” for the carrying out of a bargain which might never be made, and at any rate could ouly be arranged in the possibly distant future. Moreover the respective slices of Poland were enormous, far beyond anything which Austria had been led to anticipate in the negotiations of the previous year. Also the details of the Partition brought Russian territory into actual touch with the frontier of Austrian dominions, so that the buffer State, to which Austria had always attached so much importance, had ceased to exist. Finally, these momentous changes, affecting the balance of power and the most vital interests of Austria, had been carried into effect; and Austria, on the strength of an agreement which had been strained far beyond its original scope, had never been allowed to have any voice whatever in their settlement. The material loss and the humiliation were great; and Francis II manifested his displeasure. Philip Cobenzl and Spielmann, the two Ministers who had conducted the fatal conferences with Haugwitz, were removed to other duties; and Baron Thugut was summoned to assume control of the department of foreign affairs. Austria let it be known in diplomatic circles that she had never pledged herself to acceptance of the Partition Treaty. The obvious ill-will between Vienna and Berlin was of evil omen for the campaign of 1793.

The Poles had no Ministers to degrade; and diplomatic protests on their part were not likely to receive much attention. To them the pub­lication of the Partition was an absolutely crushing blow. The Poland which was left to enjoy a nominal and precarious independence under Stanislas Poniatowski, with all the luxuries of the liberum veto and the right of Confederation and the privilege of electing a native noble to succeed to the empty title of King, was no larger than the provinces of Poland which had been transformed by the signature of a foreign despot into Russian districts. And it is only fair to say that the leaders of the Confederation of Targowice were for the most part even more stunned by Catharine’s action than the professed patriots. The latter had a

shrewd suspicion of Russian aims; but the former had prated so much about the Czarina’s disinterested affection for Poland that they had come to believe in it themselves. That Catharine should trample upon Polish independence was bad enough; that she should hand over a part of Poland to the perjured power of Prussia was infinitely worse. When the envoys of Russia and Prussia demanded the summons of a Diet to give formal sanction to the Partition, the Confederate leaders replied that they had no power to call a national assembly, and that they had taken an oath to maintain the integrity of Poland. To get over the difficulty, it was necessary to restore the permanent Council which the previous Diet had abolished. This Council, composed of nominees of the Russian ambassador, summoned the Diet to meet at Grodno in Lithuania. The elections took place under the supervision of Russian troops, and cor­ruption and intimidation were equally employed to secure the return of docile delegates. The Provinces destined for partition were not repre­sented ; and all who had supported the Constitution of May 3 or had refused to join the Confederation of Targowice were excluded from either voting or sitting.

The unfortunate Stanislas wrote to Catharine imploring permission to resign a Crown which he could no longer wear with honour to himself or profit to his subjects. He received a firm answer that he had no right to abdicate at a moment when he could be useful to Poland in its extremity, with no obscure threat that even in retirement he would not escape from Russian displeasure. He was ordered to repair from Warsaw to Grodno, where the Diet was opened on June 17. Two days later the two envoys presented an identical note in which they demanded the appointment of a committee to arrange a treaty with Russia and Prussia. But even in the carefully packed assembly there was no lack of patriotic ardour. It was felt that delay might bring a turn of affairs in favour of Poland. Austria might be in a position to give weight to her indignant protests. England had never disguised her disapproval of the treatment of Poland, and was now an important member of the Coalition against Prance. It was notorious that Russia and Prussia had no great love for each other, and it might be possible to separate the interests of the two Courts. Prom the Polish point of view Prussia, as a traitorous ally, was infinitely more hateful than Russia; and submission to the latter Power would lose half its bitterness if the perfidious greed of the Court of Berlin could be baulked. This desire to divide the two allies from each other is conspicuous in the action of the Diet. To Sievers, the Russian plenipotentiary, they replied by dwelling on the loyalty of the Confederation of Targowice to Russian interests, and by an appeal to the magnanimity of the Empress. To Buchholz, the representative of Prussia, they addressed a demand that the Prussian troops should be withdrawn from Polish soil.

The unexpected opposition of the Diet could only be overcome by

coercion, and Russia alone had the power to apply the remedy. Grodno had been deliberately chosen as the place of meeting, in order to remove the Diet from the neighbourhood of the Prussian troops and to give to Russia the absolute control of the assembly. Buchholz could only appeal for assistance to his fellow-ambassador, and so played a very secondary part in the negotiations. Sievers did not hesitate to employ the most open intimidation to overcome the reluctance of the Diet to approve the dismemberment of Poland. He confiscated the property of the prominent malcontents, and went so far as to seize the persons of seven deputies. The Diet protested that their proceedings were no longer free, and con­tinued their studied policy of delay. A committee was appointed to enter into negotiations with Russia, but without authority to cede any territory or to negotiate with Prussia. The addition to this committee of seven members to be nominated by Sievers was unanimously rejected. The Russian minister on July 16 sent in a declaration which showed that his patience was exhausted. “ Any longer delay and the refusal to grant full powers to the delegation will be regarded as a refusal to treat and a declaration of hostility. In that case the troops of her imperial Majesty will enter into military occupation of the lands and dwellings of those members of the Diet who oppose the general wish of the nation. If the King should adhere to the opposition, this occupation will be extended to the royal domains and to the property of all who support the King. Another result of the proceedings of the Diet will be the seizure of the State revenues, and the cessation of all payments to the troops, who will be forced to live at the expense of the unfortunate inhabitants of the country,” This was sufficiently plain speaking; and though in the first fervour of indignation deputies clamoured that they were willing and eager to go to Siberia, more prudent counsels prevailed in the end, and full powers were granted to the committee by seventy-three votes to twenty. On July 23 a treaty was signed with Russia by which that country received legal possession of the provinces which it had already seized by virtue of its agreement with Prussia.

The Diet had successfully evaded the original demand of the two envoys for a joint negotiation and treaty with Poland. Buchholz, who had reluctantly stood aside while his colleague had successfully pressed the claims of Russia, now came forward to demand the appointment of delegates to negotiate a treaty with Prussia. The Diet appealed for Russian support against the monstrous pretensions of a State which had never received any wrong from Poland and had actually encouraged the Poles to take those measures which had incurred Russian displeasure. Sievers replied that the Diet had no alternative but to come to terms with Prussia, and that he was compelled by his instructions to advise them to yield without delay. But the whole tone of his note was so different from that of his recent communications that it did more harm than good to the Prussian cause. Stanislas and the Diet were encouraged

to believe that Prussia would in the end receive very lukewarm support from St Petersburg. In this belief the Diet drew up a formal answer to Buchholz on July 31, in which they coolly enquired whether or no the Prussian King considered himself bound by the Treaty of 1790, and, as they believed him to be a man of honour, begged him to withdraw his troops, whose presence on Polish soil was so glaringly inconsistent with the tenour of the treaty.

Negotiations begun in this spirit were not likely to be expeditious. The Diet had appointed a committee to arrange a commercial treaty with Prussia, but had forbidden the members even to discuss any scheme for the alienation of territory. Buchholz naturally contended that these powers were quite inadequate; and the whole matter was referred back to the Diet, where the debates consisted of little but envenomed diatribes against the treachery of the Prussian King. Sievers was appealed to on both sides, but his intervention proved wholly unsatisfactory. Since the treaty of January 23 the Prussian forces in Poland had introduced several practical changes in the boundaries which had been fixed on paper; and Buchholz wished to have these confirmed by the Polish Diet. Russia had done the same thing on a larger scale ; and her rectifications had been approved without much protest. The Prussian envoy was unprepared for opposition in what seemed of trifling importance. But Russia was willing to impress on its ally a sense of dependence and inferiority. A modified treaty, restricting the Prussian boundary, was put forward; and on September 2, 1793, the Diet, surrounded with a great parade of Russian military force, by a vote of 61 to 23 authorised the approval of this treaty, provided that it was not put into force until a treaty of commerce had been signed, and the whole had been secured by a Russian guarantee. But on the ground that the modi­fications and conditions introduced had never been approved by his master, Buchholz announced to the Diet that its decision was wholly nugatory, and demanded that the Prussian terms should be accepted as they stood.

These exasperating delays at Grodno were ruinous to the western campaign. The Allies lost the opportunity of a decisive triumph which had been opened by their successes in the early part of the year; and the Coalition was very nearly dissolved. Prussia attributed the obstinacy of the Poles and the lukewarmness of Russia to the secret intrigues of Austria. Austria retaliated by declaring that Prussia had encouraged the Duke of Zweibriicken to refuse his consent to the exchange of Bavaria, and had thus broken the distinct pledge it had given to support that project. Instead of proceeding with an energetic campaign on the Rhine, the two Allies spent all their time in these mutual recrimi­nations. If Prussia had to coerce the Poles, and if, as seemed possible, Russia withheld all active assistance, it would be impossible to spare either money or men for the war against France, of which Prussia was

already weary. Things might be even worse, and Prussia, instead of fighting France, might have to go to war with Austria. So intense was the passionate determination of the Prussian King and his Ministers not to part with the booty which had seemed to be actually in their hands, that Frederick William quitted the Prussian camp on September 29, ordered the troops to remain absolutely inactive, and hurried to look after his more pressing interests in the East.

But, before he actually started, events had taken a new turn at Grodno. Catharine had desired to make Prussia feel its dependence upon Russia and abandon the autocratic extensions of its frontier. But she had no intention of allowing the French war to come to an abrupt end, or of giving Frederick William an excuse for evading his promise to carry it on. As soon as she thought matters had gone far enough, she sent instructions to Sievers to bring the Poles to a more reasonable mind. The Diet was informed that it must approve the Prussian treaty without any of the conditions which it had previously attached to it. At the same time Buchholz was instructed to meet Russian wishes by consenting to the restricted boundary. In the evening of September 22 four deputies were arrested and transported out of the town. On the next day the Russian commander occupied a seat by the royal throne, and Russian soldiers guarded all the entrances to the hall. It was announced to the deputies that they would not be allowed to depart until they had come to a decision. In this crisis the deputies took the most dramatic and startling course that was possible for a Polish assembly; they held their tongues. The embarrassed general was prepared for every emergency but this. He could denounce a speech as giving evidence of “Jacobinism”; he could send a file of soldiers to silence or arrest a too vehement orator; but against this conspiracy of silence he was powerless. About three in the morning, when even silence had become exhausting, it was suggested as a solution of the difficulty that “ silence gives consent." The proposal to approve the treaty was read by one of the marshals. The assembly sat dumb, and it was declared that the motion was carried. By virtue of this inarticulate decision the treaty with Prussia was signed on September 25. It is plain that Russia used greater brutality in enforcing consent to the Prussian than to her own demands, in order that all the world might see how much more unfounded and distasteful the former must be. A fortnight before the consummation of the Partition the Confederation of Targowice, which had made itself for ever hateful to all patriotic Poles, had been dissolved. The Diet of Grodno, which could at any rate plead that its action had been compelled by superior force, was allowed to continue its session till November 23. Among its last acts were the conclusion of a treaty of alliance between Russia and the mutilated State which still bore the name of Poland, and the formal revocation of all the measures of the preceding Diet, including the famous Constitution of May 3.

The legality of the Partition Treaties of 1793 might be accepted by the European chanceries, but it was certain to be contested by the Poles; and their arguments were not without force. What right had any authority, either native or foreign, to exclude from a Polish Diet the representatives of more than half the country ? If the cession of territories required popular consent to make it valid, surely the consent of those who were most immediately affected, who were to be transferred by the transaction to another allegiance, was preeminently necessary. Then the elections had notoriously been influenced by corruption and Russian dictation ; and even so the delegates thus chosen had only been induced to give their approval by the grossest measures of coercion. It was farcical to give the name of national assent to the acts of such a Diet as that of Grodno, still more to acts which had been passed under such conditions as those of September 23. And there was the present as well as the past to excite Polish indignation. The so-called treaty of alliance, which had been signed on October 16, was really an acknowledgment of Polish subjection. Stanislas Poniatowski was a mere agent of the Russian Minister at Warsaw. Sievers, though he had done his work in coercing the Diet, was considered too lenient for his post, and was superseded by Igelstrom, the commander of the Russian troops in Poland. His rule was an insolent and undisguised military despotism.

If the Poles were to submit without protest, it would justify the accusation so frequently made against them that they were incapable and unworthy of national independence. But no one could say that they were incapable of conspiracy. Under the very eyes of the Russian general and his army of occupation the most ingenious and elaborate plots were developed. Secret societies were formed with the object of recovering the independence of Poland and restoring the Constitution of May 3. A regular correspondence was carried on between the plotters at home and the Polish exiles abroad. An eminent group of these, including Kosciusko, the hero of Dubienka, and the leaders of the “ Four years’ Diet,” had found refuge in Saxony. They undertook to sound the chief foreign Courts as to their willingness to aid the cause of Poland. But their reports were by no means encouraging. Even the Powers which were most hostile to Russia and Prussia would give no active assistance to the Poles. Austria had refused to assent to the Partition of 1793, not out of love for Poland, but because the rivals of Austria gained advantages in which she had no share. What Thugut wanted was a further partition which would enable Austria to make up for her previous abstinence. Turkey had good reason to fear that when Russia had finished with Poland she would revert to the scheme of aggres­sion in the south which had been for the moment abandoned. But the Turks had not yet recovered from the exhausting effects of the last war, and were not prepared to provoke a quarrel with Russia. The State

which had derived the greatest benefit from Polish disturbances, and was destined to derive still greater benefit from their continuance, was France. France, however, was at the same time passing through a terrible domestic crisis, and carrying on a war against enemies on every side. Her sympathy with the Poles, even combined with her obvious interest in stirring up trouble in the East, could not possibly take the form of practical help. The only State which held out any eventual prospect of assistance was Sweden, but Sweden could hardly do much against Russia and Prussia combined, and there was always a pro- Russian party among the Swedish nobles. So far as the informal embassies of the Polish exiles went, the conclusion they suggested was that Poland must wait for more favourable circumstances.

But delay was rendered impossible by events in Poland. Igelstrom, though he could not discover the precise plans or the persons of the conspirators, who are said to have numbered 20,000, was fully aware that plots of some kind were going on. To meet the danger he determined at the beginning of March, 1794, to disarm and disband a large part of the native army in Poland. Without these troops it would be impossible for the plotters to attempt anything; and therefore it was necessary to strike at once or to abandon all hope. Un­expected success attended a rising which was at first inspired rather by despair than by confidence. The brigade of Madalinski refused to obey the orders to disband, demanded their arrears of pay, and marched in the direction of Cracow. The citizens of Cracow rose and expelled its Russian garrison. Kosciusko, who had hurried from Saxony at the first intelligence from Madalinski, was proclaimed commander-in-chief. On March 24 he published his manifesto, which was a virtual declara­tion of war against Russia and Prussia, and called upon all the patriots to rally to his standard. On April 4 he met at Raslawice a Russian detachment which had been sent in pursuit of Madalinski, and, thanks to the bravery of the Polish peasants, he gained a hard-won victory. This success, though of trifling importance in itself, gave immense encourage­ment to the insurgents. Igelstrom determined to disarm the Polish troops in Warsaw, but the attempt only provoked a rising in the capital. After two days’ desperate fighting in the streets the Russian commander, with such of his troops as were neither killed nor wounded nor prisoners, evacuated Warsaw on April 18. A provisional govern­ment sent the news to Kosciusko, recognised his dictatorship, and adhered to the principles of the manifesto of March 24. Five days later Wilna, the chief town of Lithuania, followed the example of Cracow and Warsaw by expelling its foreign garrison. On every side the Russians, but lately the absolute masters of the country, were retreating towards the eastern frontier in order to concentrate their forces and to await the arrival of reinforcements. There was once more a free Poland. Stanislas Poniatowski, accustomed by this time to a

passive role, remained at Warsaw, as ready to obey his own subjects as he had been docile to his foreign masters. The Poles rather pitied than detested him; but he no longer enjoyed either confidence or respect, and all real authority was concentrated in the hands of Kosciusko.

The news of this Polish revolution caused a profound sensation in Europe, and exercised a decisive influence on events in the west. Prussia and Austria had come in the course of 1793 to the verge of a deadly quarrel. So long as Austria refused to accede to the treaty which had been made at St Petersburg on January 23, Prussia would do nothing which might facilitate the acquisition by its rival either of Bavaria or of French Provinces. Moreover, Prussia was really exhausted by having to maintain two armies, one in the west and the other in Poland. At the beginning of 1794 it was obvious that Prussia, in spite of the scruples of Frederick William, would soon withdraw from active cooperation against France; and that Austria could not, and perhaps would not, do any­thing to alter or avert this decision. At this juncture the Maritime Powers, whose interests were vitally affected by the danger of a French occupation of the Netherlands, stepped in to exert their influence with I'russia. Lord Malmesbury, who enjoyed in a special degree the con­fidence of the Dutch government, was despatched on a special mission to the Court of Berlin; and on April 19 he concluded a treaty or conven­tion with Haugwitz at the Hague. A Prussian commander (by which was understood the King in person) was to lead 62,000 men to support the common cause against France. For the mobilisation and mainte­nance of this force the Maritime Powers were to pay large subsidies, and all conquests were to be at their disposal.

This treaty was actually contemporary with the events in Warsaw which made it so much waste-paper. Probably in any case it could not have worked satisfactorily. England looked upon the Prussian troops as so many mercenaries, to be employed wherever the Cabinet in London thought fit, i.e. in the Netherlands. Prussia, on the other hand, expected to be handsomely paid for looking after her own interests, and deemed it degrading to a great Power to allow the movements of its troops to be dictated by another. Besides, the defence or the recovery of the Nether­lands would primarily benefit Austria; and no Prussian statesman or soldier wished to do that. But these inherent objections to the treaty were as nothing, compared to the obstacles placed in the way of its execution by the Polish rising. If the news had come earlier, the agree­ment would certainly not have been signed. As it was, nothing remained for Prussia but to disregard its provisions. Frederick William himself thought this course dishonourable, and wished to go in person to lead his troops against the French. But his Ministers convinced him that he had no right to play Don Quixote at the expense of his country’s interest, and that Prussia must give its chief attention to Poland.

Not only did the insurrection threaten the security of what had

already been acquired, but it opened the possibility of fresh acquisi­tions. It was certain that the suppression of the rebellion would end in the final overthrow of Poland. The great prize would probably be partitioned, but the adjustment of shares would give rise to endless disputes. Austria would assuredly demand a share this time; and if Catharine chose to . favour Austria rather than Prussia^ Austria might avenge, the slights it had received in the previous year. If Prussia intended to have a decisive or even an influential voifce in the fate of Poland, she must take the lead in crushing the rebellion and must occupy the districts which she desired to retain. Possession was a most admirable argument in diplomacy. Frederick William was convinced by these arguments, sent what troops he could collect to Poland in May, and proceeded thither in person at the beginning of June. Mollendorf, who commanded on the Rhine, absolutely refused the request on the part of England that he should go to the Netherlands. He could hardly do otherwise when the most influential adviser of the King wrote to him to express his “regret that the Maritime Powers have given us such generous terms as to induce us to sign the convention of the Hague.” Malmesbury tried all his powers of argument and polite invective, but quite in vain. The Treaty of the Hague was worse than" useless. It created hopes which were never fulfilled, and much time and temper were spent in trying to hold Prussia to a bargain which she had no inten­tion of fulfilling. Malmesbury may have got the better of Haugwitz in fixing the terms of the treaty: but Prussia got the ^better of England by interpreting these terms as she thought fit. Whtta the subsidies were withheld, Hardenberg calmly denounced the treaty as if the Maritime Powers had broken their pledge (October 25, 1794). France was able to seize the Netherlands and to drive the Allies from the left bank of the Rhine, because the two great military Powers of the Coalition fixed their gaze, not on the fate of Brussels or Mainz, but on that of Cracow and Warsaw.

The news from Poland was quite as startling in Vienna and St Peters­burg as in Berlin. Thugut, who was now omnipotent in the control of Austrian foreign policy, attributed the recent humiliations of Austria to what he considered the blunder of Leopold II in alienating Russia. Ever since he came to power he had striven to win the favour of Catharine. His long tenure of the embassy in Constantinople had given him a great knowledge of eastern affairs; and he held out to the Czarina the prospect of renewed cooperation between Austria and Russia against Turkey. Catharine, who thought that the Polish question was for the moment settled, was not unwilling to resume the ambitious schemes which she had been compelled to drop in 1791. The war against France, which had served her so well in dealing with Poland, would be equally useful in preventing any interference to save the Porte. During tiie winter of 1793-4 considerable preparations were made for a Turkish campaign.

Among these preparations was a weakening of the Russian forces in Poland, and this had contributed to the temporary success of the insur­rection. All these plans were at once and completely abandoned when intelligence came that Warsaw was free and that Igelstrom and his army were in retreat. All that Catharine could do was to leave an adequate force in the south to check the Turks if they in their turn were tempted to attempt an aggressive movement. Every soldier that could be spared was to be sent to Poland.

Catharine never wavered as to her primary intention. Poland was to be blotted out. As she put it, “ the time has come, not only to extin­guish to the last spark the fire that has been lighted in our neighbour­hood, but to prevent any possible rekindling of the ashes.” Equally unhesitating was the attitude of Austria. Francis II had gone to the Netherlands early in the year. Thugut, as soon as he knew of the events in Warsaw, followed his master and brought him back to Vienna. This was conclusive evidence that the most pressing interests of Austria lay in the east rather than in the west, and that, in order to gain a part of Poland and to prevent another one-sided aggrandisement of Prussia, the Court of Vienna would give up the Netherlands, and possibly make peace with France. This was as serious a blow to the Maritime Powers as the failure of Prussia to carry out the promises made at the Hague. France had good reason to congratulate itself upon the diversion caused by Kosciusko. Not even in the most brilliant campaigns of Cond^ and Turenne had French armies gained such important and such continuous successes as in 1794.

Meanwhile Prussia had the start of her two neighbours in Poland, and seemed likely to make the most of it. Kosciusko’s position was from the first utterly hopeless. Against what must be in the end an overwhelming hostile force he had an army which was inadequate in numbers, in arms, and in discipline; while at the same time he had to control a divided people. He was too much of a democrat to please the nobles, and too much of an aristocrat to conciliate either the peasants or the citizens. The peasants with their scythe-blades formed his most trustworthy infantry, and he showed his appreciation of their merits by always wearing a peasant’s dress. But their really enthusiastic support could only be gained by the abolition of serfdom, and he dared not exasperate the nobles by such a measure. In the towns, and especially in Warsaw, a democratic party had asserted itself which desired to emulate the methods of Republican France, and to promote unity by putting the partisans of Russia to death. The Slavonic nature is suspicious, and a “law of suspects” in Poland would have decimated the population. Kosciusko, whose position somewhat resembled that of Lafayette, was forced to put down disorder with severity; but every punishment which he inflicted served to excite enmity and even suspicion against himself

In such circumstances a resolute campaign on the part of the Prussians

must have proved decisive. The King entered Poland with the confident hope that he would crush the rebellion at once and have time to win fresh laurels against the more genuine Jacobins in the west. In his first encounter with the Poles on June 6, at Rawka, he inflicted so crushing a defeat that Kosciusko felt it necessary at all risks to retreat for the defence of Warsaw. Cracow was left so feebly garrisoned that it surrendered to the Prussians on June 15. This was a great blow to the Austrians, who had destined Cracow for themselves. But after these successes the Prussians did nothing but waste time. They allowed the Polish army to conduct its hazardous and discouraging march without, serious moles­tation. Frederick William and his incompetent advisers spent their days in reading despatches from Vienna and St Petersburg and in dis­cussing politics rather than strategy. It was not until July 2 that they appeared before Warsaw, which was covered by the Polish troops under Kosciusko. Instead of ordering a storm, which would almost certainly have been successful, Frederick William sat down to blockade an unfor­tified city and an imperfectly entrenched army. It is true he had some excuse in the inadequate support given to him by the Russian troops which were associated with him in the siege. But this in itself should have opened his eyes to the fact that he was playing into the hands of Russia. Catharine wished the Poles to be occupied until she was ready to strike, but she had no desire that Prussia should gain such a decisive success as the reduction of Warsaw. While the Prussian army remained inactive, a rising broke out in the recently annexed Provinces. On the ground that their convoys were exposed to capture and their communi­cations threatened, the besieging forces abandoned their enterprise and retired from Warsaw on September 6.

The exultation of the Poles at so unexpected a triumph was as short­lived as it was intense. The Austrians were already invading the kingdom from the south. The Russians had reoccupied Wilna on August 12, and had since made themselves masters of the whole of Lithuania. But the most serious news was that Suvdroff, the captor of Ismail and the most successful general Russia had yet produced, was marching upon Poland with the bulk of the army which had been collected for a possible campaign against the Turks. The progress of Suvdroff was as rapid and decisive as that of Frederick William had been dilatory and ineffective. In one engagement after another the Polish forces in his way were cut to pieces. Each disaster caused a panic in Warsaw, and every panic increased the difficulty of maintaining order among the unreasoning citizens who attributed failure to treachery. The Russian troops under Fersen, who had retreated with the Prussians from the siege of Warsaw, received orders to join the advancing army of Suvdroff. For a time they were hindered by the difficulty of crossing the Vistula; but at last they succeeded in forcing a passage. Kosciusko determined on a last effort to prevent the junction of the hostile forces. At Maciejowice he threw

himself against Fersen, but after a desperate struggle his army was utterly routed (October 10). Kosciusko himself was wounded and taken prisoner. From this moment the most sanguine of Polish patriots were reduced to despair.

Suvdroff, after uniting the victorious troops of Fersen with his own, advanced with fatal rapidity upon Warsaw. His summons to surrender was refused, and the suburb of Praga on the right bank of the Vistula was hastily entrenched. If any hopes were entertained that the Russian general would be content with a blockade, they were doomed to speedy disappointment. On November 4, after a vigorous bombardment, the attacking forces threw themselves into the trenches with a reckless con­tempt of danger. Their fury had been roused by the stories of the treatment of Russians in the streets of the capital, and their battle-ciy was, “ Remember Warsaw.” The Poles, many of whom were untrained citizens, gave way before such a terrific onslaught; and a frightful massacre followed the entiy of the Russians into Praga. The destruction of the bridge over the Vistula, which cut off all possibility of retreat, enormously increased the bloodshed. Many of those who had escaped from fire and sword perished in the river-current. From the blood­stained suburb Suvdroff could dictate his own terms to the trembling capital, which had no alternative but surrender. On November 8 the Russians made their entry into Warsaw, and the freedom of Poland was at an end. After the terrible lesson which had been taught at Praga there was no need of exceptional severity to intimidate the Poles. Stanislas Poniatowski was sent to reside at Grodno, to await what further humiliations might be in store for him. The political leaders of the revolution were despatched to share the captivity of Kosciusko in St Peters­burg. But the troops which were still in the field were allowed to capitulate upon honourable terms. On the death of Catharine (1796) her successor Paul released Kosciusko and his fellow-prisoners. After visits to England and America, the hero of the last phase of Polish independ­ence found a peaceful home for many years in France. He ultimately died in Switzerland in 1817, having never revisited his native country.

Thus it was Russia, and not Prussia, which gained the militaiy credit attaching to the suppression of the Polish insurrection ; and Catharine II, who had already presided over two measures of partition, was enabled to dictate the ultimate fate of Poland. The general character of the nego­tiations, which took place at St Petersburg, is easily grasped. Catharine postponed any complete disclosure of her intentions until the success of Suvdroff was assured. Then she declared that the Russian frontier must be advanced to the Bug. Although this gave her the lion’s share of the spoil, the other two Powers were too eager to gain her support for their own claims to venture upon any objection. The rest of Poland was left to be shared by Austria and Prussia, with Russia as arbitress of any disputes which might arise. From the very first, long before Warsaw

had fallen, it was known that the demands of the two States were irre- »ncilable. Prussia had taken an active part in opposing the Polish rebels, had spent large sums of money, and had brought a considerable force into the field. Though the siege of Warsaw had been abandoned, Cracow and no small area of Poland had been and were still occupied by Prussian troops. Austria, on the other hand, had sent 15,000 soldiers to Lublin, but they had never even come into collision with the Polish ibrces. If, then, the shares were to be at all proportioned to effort or sacrifice Prussia could contend that she was entitled to far more con­sideration than Austria. But Thugut in his instructions had furnished the Austrian plenipotentiary with counterbalancing arguments on the other side. He laid great stress upon the fact that Austria had never received anything to compensate for the aggrandisement of the other States in 1793, and practically claimed a share in the previous as well as in the present partition. As regards sacrifice and effort, he pointed to the action of Austria in maintaining the common interests against France. Prussia had betrayed these interests and broken her plighted word, in order to be able to seek her own selfish gains in Poland.

If gratitude were a dominant force in politics, Russia should have given support to Prussia. It was Prussian intervention that had met the first vigour of the insurrection and had held it in check while Russia was for the moment powerless. In fact Prussia had rendered a double service, both by what she had done and by what she had left undone. She had succeeded in breaking the force of the rebellion, and had then stepped aside to allow Russia to administer the final blow. But an irksome obligation is as dangerous to international as to personal friendship. Russia did not wish to admit that Prussia had played any part in the overthrow of Poland. On the contrary, the Prussians had been too officious; they had tried to settle matters by themselves in order to gain an advantage over their neighbours, and had found the task more than they were able to perform. At a very early date it became dear that Russia would support Austria as against Prussia, just as Thugut had declared that he did not object to Russia having more of Poland provided that Prussia had less.

The two rival plenipotentiaries at St Petersburg were Cobenzl for Austria and Tauenzien for Prussia. Both had separate conferences with Ostermann, the Russian Chancellor, before the three met in a general congress on December 19. The proceedings on this occasion, therefore, present only a summary of what had already been discussed in greater detail. The main dispute turned upon the palatinates of Cracow and Sandomir. Both Austria and Prussia claimed them, and they were actually in the hands of Prussia. Cobenzl declared that no partition would be satisfactory to the Emperor, unless these districts were handed over to Austria^ Ostermann, as he had already done in previous con­ferences, expressed the view that the Austrian demands were reasonable.

Tauenzien rather feebly suggested that, if Russia wished to gratify the Emperor, this might be done out of the large territory which Russia had appropriated and not out of the small share of Prussia. Cobenzl broke in with the remark that Austria thoroughly approved of the demands of Russia; and the combination of two against one was apparent. Tauenzien, in obedience to his instructions, declared that, rather than hand over the disputed territories to Austria, Prussia would prefer to make no partition at all, and to leave Poland as it was in 1793.

This protest broke up the conference; but the action of Prussia had been anticipated and provided against beforehand. Russia and Austria proceeded to settle the matter between themselves, and on January 3, 1795, drew up their own arrangements for the Partition of Poland. The preamble of the treaty asserts that “ Poland having been entirely sub­jected and conquered by the arms of the Empress,” she has determined to arrange with her allies for a complete partition of that State, “ which has shown an absolute incapacity to form a government which should enable it to live peaceably under the laws or to maintain itself in inde­pendence.” The respective shares were defined by geographical boun­daries. The Russian frontier was to start from Galicia along the Bug to Brzesc in Lithuania, thence in as straight a line as possible to Grodno, and from that town along the Niemen to the border of East Prussia. The Austrian share, which included Cracow and the disputed palatinates, extended the province of Galicia by adding to it the whole district between the Pilica, the Vistula, and the Bug. These acquisitions were to be guaranteed to each other by the two States. As soon as Prussia declared its adhesion to the treaty, that State was to receive the rest of Poland with a similar guarantee from Austria and Russia.

On the same day two further declarations were exchanged between the two contracting Powers. By the first Austria at last acceded to the second Treaty of Partition (January 23, 1793), thus accepting the promise of “good offices” for the exchange of the Netherlands for Bavaria. The second, which constituted a secret treaty of immense importance, was necessitated partly by the possibility that force would have to be employed to wrest from Prussia the districts which were to be given to Austria, partly by the desire on the part of Russia to reaffirm the alliance of the two Courts against Turkey, and partly by Thugut’s strenuous persistence in demanding that Austria should receive some substantial indemnity both for the gains of Russia and Prussia in 1793, and for her own exertions in the war against France. The agreement as to an eventual partition of Turkey, contained in the autograph letters which Catharine and Joseph II had exchanged in 1782, was formally renewed. The engagement as to mutual aid in a future war with the Porte was extended to include the case of hostilities with Prussia. If that State attacked either of the allies, the other was to employ all its forces against “ the common enemy.” As to the claims of Austria for

indemnities, Russia was to aid that State in obtaining them, either at the expense of France, or if that should be impossible by asserting the rights of Austria to large parts of the dominions of Venice, or by “ such other project of acquisition as may suitably gain the desired end.” This blank cheque to Austria, which was not to apply to any further spoliation of Turkey, can only have been intended to cover the possibility of annexations in Germany.

This secret treaty gives us the due to Catharine’s primary motive for supporting Austria against Prussia in the previous negotiations. It is very much the same motive which had induced her in 1780 to turn from her alliance with Frederick the Great to that with Joseph II. Prussia was a very useful ally against Poland, but a very useless ally against Turkey. Of Austria precisely the reverse might be said. Now that Poland was about to be obliterated, the Prussian alliance ceased to be of any great immediate value. On the other hand, when Poland was disposed of, the partition of Turkey, in which Austria was the destined accomplice, became at once the primary duty of Russia. Thugut had been dever enough to offer precisely the bribe which Russia was eager to accept. Leopold II had disconcerted Catharine by abandoning the policy of Joseph. Thugut. was willing to return to it in order to humiliate Prussia; and Catharine was prompt to make him register the promise. No doubt she was also influenced by other reasons. She had always personally disliked Frederick William II; and she was especially irritated at this time by his incessant parade of those virtuous and honour­able intentions, which his Ministers as constantly induced him to abandon. She thought that he had been suspiciously eager to take advantage of Russia’s misfortunes at the beginning of Kosdusko’s rebellion; and her malignant pleasure at the retreat from Warsaw served to show how chagrined she would have been by a complete Prussian triumph over the Poles.

Her ardent desire was that the two neighbouring States should continue to carry on the war against France, and that Russia should continue to hold aloof. With this aim she had inserted in the treaty of 1793 the dause which pledged the Prussian King to prolong his exertions in that war until its avowed objects had been obtained. In defiance of this pledge, and of the further obligations to the Maritime Powers under the Convention of the Hague, Prussia had done almost nothing in the campaign of 1794 and had since opened negotiations for a separate peace with the French Republic. Austria, on the other hand, had reasons of her own for continuing the struggle with France, and thus established another daim to Catharine’s favour. But this at the same time made her the more annoyed with Prussia, because all hostile designs against Turkey would have to be postponed so long as Austria’s hands were tied by the western war, while Prussia had the free disposal of all her forces. Finally, it was Catharine’s interest to keep the balance fairly

1795]

Prussia reluctantly accedes to partition.

551

equal between the two great German States, and not to allow either to gain marked superiority over the other. In 1793 she had given Prussia a substantial reward, while Austria had been left in the cold. This was in itself a reason for taking the opposite course in 1795.

The Treaty of Partition was at first as carefully concealed as the more specifically secret treaty which accompanied it. Suspicions were entertained at Berlin, and they constituted one among many arguments for concluding the Treaty of Basel with France (April 5,1795). But for some time there was no open act to justify suspicion. The Prussian troops remained in occupation of Cracow and the disputed palatinates; and no steps were taken even to demand their withdrawal. In fact, Austria was extremely afraid of the probable wrath of Prussia, and refused all suggestions from St Petersburg as to a communication of the treaty to the Court of Berlin until some 80,000 men had been collected on the Bohemian frontier to guard against attack. It was not till August 9 that the Russian and Austrian envoys made a joint announce­ment to the Prussian Ministers of the action of their respective govern­ments. Prussia now discovered that since January 3 the two Courts had decided to carry out the very scheme of partition against which Tauenzien had so passionately protested.

The intelligence was in the highest degree unwelcome and disquieting, but it did not lead to war. Indeed, Frederick William had lost much of the buoyant confidence with which he had begun his reign. Since the Prussian intervention in Holland none of his undertakings had been crowned with conspicuous success. It is true that he had added to his dominions Danzig and Thom with a considerable area of Polish territory; but these acquisitions, gratifying enough in themselves, had been made in a way which reflected no great credit upon Prussia. The turning-point in his reign had been the abandonment of the threatening attitude which he had assumed just before the conference at Reichenbach. From that date onward he had met with a series of disappointments. Prussia had not, indeed, experienced any crushing disaster. There had been nothing to show to the world those defects of the military system which were so conspicuous in 1806. But the cumulative effect of such events as the retreat from Champagne, the inaction of 1794 in the west, and the repulse from Warsaw in the east, was at least equivalent to the discredit which would have followed defeat in battle. Prussia was completely isolated in Europe; and neither the King nor his advisers dared to nm the risk of an open rupture with Russia and Austria. They sullenly agreed to resume negotiations at St Petersburg; and Tauenzien was once more authorised to confer with Ostermann and Cobenzl.

On the 28th and 31st of August the plenipotentiaries met to discuss the same problems as before, and again they failed to remove the seem­ingly irreconcilable differences between Austria and Prussia. The Czarina was compelled to undertake the task of suggesting a compromise, which

was in the end accepted. On October 2A the revised scheme of partition was rendered practicable by the agreement of the three contracting Powers. The Russian share was left absolutely unaltered; but Austria agreed to give up a slip of territoiy between the Vistula, the Bug, and the Narew, which was necessary to give to Prussia secure possession of Warsaw. Prussian troops were to evacuate within six weeks the town of Cracow and all other territories which the treaty assigned to Austria. The precise limits between the Austrian and Prussian possessions on the side of the palatinate of Cracow were left to be fixed by commissioners from the two States, with a third commissioner on the part of Russia to act as mediator and, if need be, as arbitrator between his colleagues. This treaty was followed on November 25 by a formal abdication on the part of Stanislas Poniatowski. The deposed King was not ungenerously treated. His debts were paid and he received an adequate pension. After the death of Catharine he took up his residence in St Petersburg, and died there in 1798.

There remained several tangled threads to be separated before the partition could be regarded as finally settled The financial obligations both of the King and of the Polish State, together with the provision for the former’s pension, had to be divided between the contracting Powers. The difficult question of the allegiance of landowners whose possessions lay in more than one of the three subdivisions had to be dealt with. Above all, the delimitation of the boundaries between the Austrian and Prussian territories gave rise to endless quarrels on points of detail; and their settlement required equal tact and firmness on the part of the Czarina, in whose hands rested, as it had always done, the final decision between the conflicting pretensions of her neighbours. Catharine herself died on November 16, 1796, and left the formal ratification to her successor Paul. But the actual work had all been done before her death; and the final Treaty of January 26,1797, is to be assigned to her guidance quite as much as any agreement drawn up in her lifetime. It consisted of three distinct documents. The first dis­tributed in varying proportions the financial obligations which devolved upon the partitionaiy Powers, and decreed that there should be in the future no mixed or divided allegiance. Any possessor of land in more than one of the now separate parts of Poland must decide to which of the three States he wishes to belong, and must within five years sell or otherwise dispose of his property in what was thenceforth to be a foreign country. To this document was appended the act of abdication of the late King. A very lengthy “ definitive act ” laid down in minute detail the precise boundaries between the respective dominions wherever it was necessary to have artificial divisions. Finally, there was a brief secret article by which the three sovereigns, recognising “the necessity of abolishing everything which may recall the memory of the existence of the kingdom of Poland,” pledged themselves never to include such a designation among their various territorial titles.

CHAPTER XVIII.

BONAPARTE AND THE CONQUEST OF ITALY.

At the close of the month of March, 1796, a young and inexperi­enced general arrived at Nice to take command of the French Army of Italy. Within a fortnight he gained his first victory over the Austrians in the pass that separates the Alps from the Apennines. On April 28 he forced their Piedmontese allies to sign an armistice, which detached the Court of Turin from the Coalition. In the next four weeks the French overran Lombardy and began the investment of Mantua. Three suc­cessive armies sent by the Habsburgs for the relief of that fortress were scattered in flight. In Februaiy, 1797, the Pope sued for terms from the regicide Republic; and on April 18, 1797, the young French com­mander compelled the Austrians to sign preliminaries of peace at Leoben, within eighty miles of their capital. These events were of more than passing importance. They stamped themselves deep into the life of Europe. Italy looks back on that year as the beginning of her new life. The future of democracy on the Continent of Europe was profoundly affected by the rapid rise of the French Republic to the rank of a great conquering Power; and the whole of the civilised world was to feel the results of a campaign which assured the future of Napoleon.

Events never march with this swift and easy decisiveness unless the strokes of a man of genius are helped by the weakness, folly, or disunion of his adversaries; and it will be well briefly to review those conditions, physical and political, which favoured the overthrow of Habsburg influence in Italy and the substitution for it of that of France.

It is a commonplace to assert that the fate of the peninsula ultimately depends on the power which holds the basin formed by the rivers Po and Adige. As Napoleon himself remarked at St Helena, Italy is too long for its breadth. Its defence must always lie in the chief passes of the Alps and in the lines of communication that traverse the neck of the peninsula, the district between Genoa and Venice. The Alps are a formidable barrier; but so numerous are their passes that a skilful enemy threatening Italy from the west has often been able to elude the Jefenders and to pom¹ in his forces at some weakly guarded point in the

long curving line between Savona and the Great St Bernard; and, when once a passage has been forced, the valley of the Po conducts the invader to this neck of the peninsula, few natural obstacles other than the affluents of the main stream impeding his progress. An army entering Italy from the west has far fewer obstacles to surmount than one coming from the north. The passes of the Maritime Alps are far shorter than those of the Tyrolese, Camic, and Noric Alps; and an army marching from the west, after reaching the upper course of the river Po, can choose either bank of that stream for its line of march, and strike either at Mantua or at Bologna with no hindrance from the marshes and the two main rivers which stretch athwart the course of northern invaders. Consequently the peninsula has more often been successfully overrun from the side of Prance than from that of Austria; and the conqueror who firmly grips the neck of Italy has usually been able to reduce to submission the medley of States in the peninsula itself.

The political influence which one nation can exert upon another of diverse race and habits of mind rests ultimately on force. This is seen in the history of Italy, which shows us an intellectual but emasculated race for some centuries bowing its neck to French, Spanish, or German domination, feeling the last the most irksome, and despite many a set­back steadily reducing the area of imperial influence. In the eighteenth century, when the military prowess of Spain had declined and that of France was under a cloud, the, Habsburgs gained the supremacy; at the outbreak of the war of the French Revolution they possessed lie duchy of Milan, with Mantua and some scattered imperial fiefs further to the west. A Habsburg Archduke, Ferdinand III, also held the grand duchy of Tuscany, but made peace with France in February, 1795. Duke Ercole III of the ancient House of Este, who ruled over Modena, generally favoured Austrian policy, but remained neutral in the present war. Thus Austrian resources in Italy were limited to the straggling territory that stretched from the Simplon Pass to the fortress of Mantua on the south-east. The fortress of Alessandria then belonged to the kingdom pf Sardinia; and the Habsburgs therefore owned no Italian stronghold of the first rank save Mantua. The strength of this city was undoubtedly great; but it suffered from the cardinal defect of the Austrian position in Italy, that of being wholly cut off from the Habsburg dominions north of the Alps, on which the defence of the Milanese ultimately depended. True, a right of way was claimed, and very freely used, by the Court of Vienna through the Venetian lands to the north of. Mantua; but, though the political barrier grew weaker with every genera­tion as the vitality of Venice declined, the obstacles which nature opposed became more formidable as armies came to depend more and more on artillery. ,

Weak as the neck of Italy always must be, it was still further weakened by political division. Far from being held as a whole by a

great military Power, it was shared between Austria, the Duke of Modena, the Duke of Parma (a timid priest-ridden descendant of the Spanish Bourbons), the papal See, and the moribund oligarchy of Venice. The Pope had broken off diplomatic relations with France not long after the seizure of Avignon, but for the present limited his hostility to the launching of spiritual thunders against the sacrilegious Republic. Venice, a prey to a cramping oligarchy and enervating luxury, long wavered between hatred of French democracy and fear of Austrian aggression, and finally fell back on the policy of doing nothing, which was fast sapping its power, as also that of its ancient rival, Genoa.

Alone among Italian States, the kingdom of Sardinia kept up some­thing of its former vigour. King Victor Amadeus III throughout his long reign had sought to beautify his capital, to promote industiy and agriculture, and to spread wealth more widely by relieving rich monasteries of some of their superfluous lands and treasures. But his chief interest lay in his army. To bring it up to the level of that of Frederick the Great was the passion of his life; and to secure perfection on the parade-ground he ultimately sacrificed the energy of his subjects and the equilibrium of his finances. As father-in-law of the French Princes, the Comte de Provence and the Comte d’Artois, he was among the first to enter on hostilities with the French Revolution (1792); but he soon saw his outlying Provinces, Savoy and Nice, overrun; and the military help which Austria grudgingly gave hardly availed to hold the French at bay in the passes of the Maritime Alps. The old King’s hatred of France scarcely abated even when the Court of Vienna imposed very onerous terms on its hard-pressed ally in the Treaty of Valenciennes (May 23, 1794). The Piedmontese, on the other hand, were weary of a struggle which brought them face to face with political and financial ruin, mainly, as it seemed, in the interests of an overbearing and not very active confederate; and everything showed that their proverbial patience and loyalty were strained almost to the breaking point.

Nowhere else in Italy could there be found a tithe of the manly vigour, warlike prowess, and administrative capacity that had hitherto marked the people and government of the little subalpine realm. The opposites of these qualities were to be seen in an extreme form in the kingdom of Naples. Ferdinand IV, a scion of the Spanish Bourbons, and his Queen, Marie-Caroline, were an ill-matched couple; the nick­name of il Re lazzarone fitly sums up the personality of the King, while his domineering consort gave free play to spasmodic impulses such as had marred the career of her sister, Marie-Antoinette. The execution of that helpless captive fanned Queen Caroline’s hatred of the French Revolution to a fury which brought her at times to the verge of madness; but the periods of indolence or despair that generally followed imparted to the policy of the Neapolitan Court a zigzag course which perplexed and exasperated its allies. Eventually, a small force was sent northwards

to help the Austrians against the French; but, apart from thirteen squadrons of excellent cavalry, this aid was of little account; it arrived in small detachments, and so late as to effect nothing.

This brief survey will show that, if a French army could break through the outer line of defence, there was little to stay its progress until the Austrian defenders rested on their immediate base, the stronghold of Mantua. The very district wherein lay the ultimate means of defending Italy was that which was most divided among puny or decadent States; and there was no strength or unity in the peninsula that could retrieve the day when once a conqueror firmly held the lines of the Mincio and Adige. The organising genius and military prowess of ancient Rome had finally failed to hold up against the difficulties inherent in the defence of Italy; and the old Roman spirit now seemed utterly extinct. In place of it there was seen a petty particularism which hindered all attempts at union, and a disposition to welcome the French as liberators from the heavy yoke of the Habsburgs, or the dull regime of Doge, King, and Cardinal. Milan was the headquarters of the Gallic and Jacobin propaganda. This was not surprising, seeing that the Milanese had to pay a considerable sum every year to escape the severities of the Austrian militia system, and had in all handed over 70,000,000 florins in tribute to the Court of Vienna during forty-seven years. The Guelf feeling against the “ barbarians ” had never wholly died out even in the years of political torpor that weighed down Italy before the outbreak of the French Revolution; and the sight of a whole nation springing to arms in 1793 and hurling back the trained armies of Austria, Prussia, England, Spain, and Sardinia, sent a thrill of excite­ment through the peninsula. The “ Rights of Man ” seemed to summon all peoples to a new political life; and the victories of the sansculottes served to clinch the beliefs of enthusiasts that the old monarchies were doomed to fall, and that the future lay with regenerated and militant nations.

The French representative at Genoa carefully fed these hopes; and the Committee of Public Safety sent sums of money for the support of the Jacobin clubs which sprang up in the chief Italian towns. These clubs, frequently held in connexion with Masonic lodges, were most numerous in the south, where the capricious despotism of Queen Caroline and the grinding pressure of feudal abuses predisposed men to revolt; in the Legations of the Papal States, where the memory of former civic liberties embittered men against the torpid yet exasperating rule of an unchanging clericalism; and in Lombardy, where the earlier promises of reforms by the Habsburgs were belied by the severities of a timorous reaction. At Palermo the innate repugnance of an island people to a despotism exercised from the mainland found expression in a Jacobin plot, for which a young advocate, di Blasi, and three others, were executed (May, 1795). In the previous year, at Bologna, hatred of the rule of

the Pope’s Legate led to a similar hapless attempt by a young towns­man, Luigi Zamboni, and a student of the university, di Rolandis di Castel-Alfeo, who were afterwards honoured as the first martyrs of the Risorgimento. At Milan the grip of the Tedeschi was too strong to admit of active resistance by the numerous clubs that spread the network of intrigue throughout Lombardy; for the present they watched the progress of the French with eager interest and wove subtle schemes to help them. Even in loyal Piedmont the Jacobins gained a following as the war ran its weary course, and a few desperadoes hatched a plot for opening the gates of Turin to the French. Two of the ringleaders suffered death for their folly (July, 1794); but the affair showed that the old order of things was doomed, and that sweeping changes must take place so soon as the Republicans burst through the outer ring of defence on the west.

What were the forces on which rested the difficult duty of holding the western passes against the French ? They consisted of two armies, the Austrian and the Sardinian; the effective strength of which in the month of March, 1796, may be reckoned at somewhat below 32,000 and

20.000     men, respectively. These numbers by no means represented the whole fighting strength. The Austrians had nearly as many more in garrison or cantoned in Lombardy, the Mantuan, and Tyrol; but half of these were raw troops or militia. As many as 20,000 Piedmontese troops were watching the passes of the Maritime Alps from Coni to Susa and Aosta; in fact, the total of the Sardinian forces, inclusive of

30.000     ill-armed and partly disaffected militia, was placed as high as

80.000     men ; but its fighting strength was barely half of that estimate, even if we reckon in the auxiliary corps of 5000 men under General Provera, which the Habsburgs had placed at the disposal of their allies. The strength of the Sardinian army lay in the infantry, which was brave, and for the most part inured to mountain warfare; the cavalry and artillery were inferior in quality; and the efficiency of all branches of the service was dulled by a slavish adherence to promotion by seniority, by dislike of the Austrian alliance, and by a long succession of defeats.

Much the same may be said of the Imperialist forces, with this cause of weakness superadded: that, being recruited from the many distinct peoples under the Habsburg sway, they had little of that cohesion which in time of disaster enables beaten fragments quickly to reunite and present a threatening front. Many of the Habsburg regiments were excellent, and the cavalry ranked as the finest in Europe; but all through the service was felt the blighting breath of Court influence, which set aside deserving men in favour of carpet knights, and had raised to the higher ranks many officers who were incompetent at all times and even showed cowardice when face to face with danger. Merit, on the other hand, too often languished in obscurity. Thus, when this antiquated system was pitted against one that had ruthlessly sent military misfits to the

guillotine, and even now thrust them aside in favour of active and able men, it was doomed to overthrow by that inexorable law which ordains the survival of the fittest. Of this law French democrats were the militant exponents; while the cumbrous War Council and the intriguing cliques of Vienna and Milan furnish the classical instance in modem warfare of that habit of following the broad and easy way of routine and favouritism which has so often led old monarchies to destruction.

Nor was there any solidarity of interest or feeling between the Austrian and Sardinian armies. To this lack of cohesion may largely be attributed the defeats which they had suffered in the years 1793-5. The chief of these, inflicted by Massena near Loano on November 23, 1795, cost them 5000 prisoners and 80 cannon, besides yielding to the Republicans the whole of the Genoese Riviera as far as Savona and the pass to the north of that town. The Austrian commander, de Wins, was thereupon replaced by the septuagenarian Beaulieu, a Belgian subject of the Emperor. He had served with credit, if not with distinction, in the Low Countries; but his appointment seems to have been due veiy largely to the hopes entertained by the Courts of Vienna and Turin that his warm friendship with the Sardinian commander, Colli, would impart to the operations that unity of aim that had hitherto been fatally lacking. Events, however, were to show that the divergence of interests was too serious to be set right by the friendliness of the commanders-in- chief ; and in other respects the choice of so old a man as Beaulieu was in itself a disaster. He had none of that physical and mental buoyancy which enabled Bliicher at the same age to soar above discouragement; above all, he lacked both the insight which sees the path of safety in a crisis and the force of character which inspires bands of runaways to renew the fight.

The mishaps which call to the front the bom leaders of men revealed no such man on the Austrian side, save a few colonels of regiments for whom their military system could find no fitting sphere. Beaulieu was poorly seconded by Argenteau, whose insouciance had largely contributed to the defeat at Loano. Court influence not only led to his acquittal on that count, but sent him back with the rank of Field-Marshal; and his confidence in the favour of the Archduke Ferdinand, who controlled affairs at Milan, prompted him to independent conduct that helped to mar the campaign. The Lieutenant Field-Marshals, Sebottendorf and Melas, were more competent and more obedient than Argenteau, though old age already weighed upon Melas. Liptay, Pittone, and the heroic Rukavina, were good divisional leaders, but found little oppor­tunity for the exercise of their best qualities. Indeed, except in the most seasoned regiments, the Imperialists displayed the passive virtues of loyalty in spite of official discouragements, and fortitude amidst defeats, rather than the dash and enterprise that achieve great results. Of the Sardinian commander, Colli, little need be said, save that, in

spite of growing infirmities, he struggled hard to retrieve an extremely difficult situation.

The reports sent to the British Foreign Office by Eden and Trevor, our ambassadors at Vienna and Turin, reveal the discouragement which beset both of those Courts after the defeat at Loano. Thugut, the Austrian Chancellor, assured Eden that, unless Great Britain furnished another loan of £3,000,000, and Russia sent troops instead of good wishes, the Emperor must be content with waging a defensive war, “ waiting the effect which the distresses and distractions of France may produce.” As for the Habsburg States, they were exhausted; and a strong party was working for peace. The Sardinian Court, wrote Trevor on January 30, 1796, was in the depths of despair, and longed to conclude an armistice so as to screen the little realm from a French incursion. The King would persevere, but with little hope of success as long as Austria maintained a defensive strategy which left Piedmont open to the worst blows. A change of system was needed; for the rivalries of the Austrian generals and the intrigues of the governing clique at Milan clogged all the operations. The Sardinian Court was then proposing at Vienna that Victor Amadeus should have the supreme command of both armies, with Beaulieu as Quartermaster-General. This suggestion and that of an armistice in Italy aroused angry feelings at Vienna; for, as Trevor phrased it in his despatch of February 9, “ it had the air of saying, ‘ If you do not think it worth your while to assist us, we can and will make peace with France.’ ” As a matter of fact the Republic had sought to entice Sardinia to make a separate peace by proposing a joint conquest of the Milanese and the cession of this splendid province to Sardinia in exchange for Savoy and Nice. Victor Amadeus had spurned the offer, but some of his counsellors intrigued for peace, which they averred was necessary now that Austria had concluded an armistice on the Rhine and Great Britain was withholding the promised subsidies.

For the British government had also shown signs of wavering. It would far exceed the limits of our space adequately to set forth the little known plan of preparing for a general peace which Pitt and Grenville began to draw up in the autumn of 1795. It took definite form in the despatch of December 22, penned by Grenville, our Foreign Minister, to Eden, in which he explained that France was obviously in need of peace, and proposed that, even if she made no overtures, the British and Austrian governments should jointly declare their willing­ness to receive and consider any proposals for a general pacification. The consideration of the terms on which peace might be made naturally took time, especially as the Emperor demurred to some of the British suggestions; but the matter was still being discussed when the Italian Campaign of 1796 opened up a new cycle of war and relegated the proposals of the Court of St James to a world that had seemingly passed

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Napoleon Bonaparte.

[1769-96

away for ever. Yet they had one disastrous practical issue. In the hope of realising peace Grenville directed Eden and Trevor to hold back British subsidies as fax as possible; and thus both the Austrian and Sardinian armies were left badly equipped and wholly unfitted to withstand the terrific blows now to be showered upon them.

There are crises in the great drama of human development when every conceivable circumstance seems to further the rise of a genius. Truly this was the case at the beginning of the year 1796. Never did the stars shed a more baleful influence than on the men who then were scheming and striving on behalf of the monarchical cause, when ally thwarted ally, and even keen-sighted statesmen deemed that the weary struggle between the Revolution and the Kings was about to end in stale-mate. The genius was at hand who willed otherwise. A young player saw that the game had scarcely begun. In a comer of the board, where little of note had yet been accomplished, a bewildering develop­ment was now to take place. This new opening was the Italian Campaign; the name of the player was Napoleon Bonaparte.

The future conqueror was the second surviving child of Charles- Marie Bonaparte and his wife Letizia (nee Ramolino), and was bom at Ajaccio in 1769. At that time Prance was fastening her grip on Corsica, the claim to which she had cheaply acquired from the Genoese Republic. The young Napoleon later shared to the full the resentment felt by the islanders at this shabby proceeding; and, though his family was of patrician rank on both sides, and had formerly upheld the Genoese party, he long showed a strongly insular spirit, which in no wise abated during his time of education in Prance, first at Brienne, and afterwards at the “ 1'tcole MUitaire ” in Paris. Indeed, he declared that he would never forgive his father for deserting the cause of the Corsican champion Paoli. Even when he entered the French army as sous-lieictenamt in the artillery regiment La Fere (1785), he spent all his spare time in studying Rousseau and as many historical works as his scanty means could procure in order to equip himself for writing a book, and thereby proving the right of the Corsicans to be free and nerving them for the future struggle with France.

These insular feelings, however, slowly died away as the spell of the French Revolution and its message, la carriere ouverte aux talents, wrought on his spirit, arousing some hopes for the future of mankind and opening up golden vistas to his own boundless egotism. In his second very prolonged furlough in Corsica he came to an open feud with Paoli, who declared for severance from France and union with England; and ihe young officer, worsted in the ensuing strife, fled with his family to the coast of Provence. There his untiring energy, his skill in the organisation of artillery, and his faculty of seeing to the heart of a problem, largely contributed to the recapture of Toulon from the English, Spanish, and Neapolitan forces; and, subsequently, as commander of

the artillery of the Army of Italy, he had a share in drafting at Colmars a memorable plan (May 81, 1794) adopted by the Commissioners, for uniting the Army of the Alps to the Army of Italy, and thus changing an ineffective defensive into a vigorous offensive which should carry the French far down the valley of the river Stura. He also took a prominent part in the campaign that gradually edged the Austro-Sardinian forces from the Col di Tenda and along the coast back to Savona. In July he was charged by the Commissioner, Ricord, with a secret mission: to inspect Savona and Genoa, to counteract Austrian intrigues at the latter city, and to gain all the military news possible. Then it was that he saw the importance of the pass north of Savona; and he seems to have been the moving spirit in the subsequent operations which finally drove the Allies from that pass and from their position at Dego. There, amidst the northern spurs of the Apennines, he gazed down the valley of the eastern Bormida, which was to be his avenue to fame, and at the close of the final conflict he penned these notable words, “ The Battle of Dego would have been decisive against the Emperor, in his Lombard States, if we had had three hours more daylight.” This sentence, throbbing with baffled eagerness, but instinct with prescience, contains the thought-germ of the Italian Campaign.

At present nothing more could be done, for the Commissioner, Albitte, refused to allow any prolonged pursuit of the Austrians, and any decisive movement against the Sardinians at Ceva such as might have brought them to sue for peace. The whirligig of Parisian afiairs also brought Bonaparte’s life into sudden danger. The overthrow of Robes­pierre in Thermidor led to a close scrutiny of the actions of all those who, like the young general of artillery, had been on friendly terms with the younger brother of the Terrorist chief; and Ricord’s action in send­ing Bonaparte on the secret mission to Genoa led to the arrest of the latter. He was cast into prison, and owed his life and his release only to the pres mg need that was felt of good artillery officers. For some months the Committee of Public Safety and the commander of the Army of Italy advised a defensive policy in the south-east. In March, 1795, an order came for Bonaparte to take an infantry command in the Vendee War. He delayed his departure for two months, but, on his arrival at Paris, refused, on the plea of ill-health, to proceed to his new sphere of duty. Amidst poverty and doubt as to the future he at times fell a prey to misanthropy, and shook off the Jacobinical creed that had hitherto partially checked the dictates of his own egotism. “ Life is but a light dream that soon vanishes,” he wrote to his brother Joseph. But now, as earlier, he studied hard and gained that knowledge of history and the art of war which was to serve him so well. He was girding himself for the task of writing a history of recent events, when the news that Kellermann and the Army of Italy had been beaten back along the coast nerved him to work out in detail the plan of campaign which he

had drafted in the summer of 1794, and which (so Volney assured Chaptal) he trenchantly set forth in the autumn to the Commissioner Turreau at Nice.

In quick succession he now, in July, 1795, drew up two Mbnoires for the Committee of Public Safety. In the earlier of these (No. 50 of the official Correspondance de NapoMon I) he urged that the Army of Italy should be strongly reinforced from the Army of the Pyrenees (peace being then almost assured with Spain); and that Loano and Vado should be recaptured, so that during the winter positions could be secured whence overwhelming pressure might be brought to bear on the Court of Turin. Then, in the favourable season—February to Midsummer—the sanscu­lottes must overrun Lombardy, replenish their stores in that fertile land, blockade Mantua, penetrate into Tyrol, and, joining hands with the Army of the Rhine, compel the Emperor to accept terms from the Republic. The later Mbnoire (No. 49) is more detailed. In it Bonaparte assumed that the Army of the Pyrenees could send large reinforcements which would enable the Republicans to advance with numbers at least equal to those of the enemy; he also pointed out, in terms very like those set forth in his earlier scheme, that as the French forces were at present spread over a semicircle, in a barren and mountainous country from Loano to the St Bernard, while the enemy held the diameter, the defen­sive was not only more costly but far more dangerous than the most daring offensive. The French must pierce into this semicircle and drive the Austrians from the positions whence they controlled the King of Sardinia; the Allies could easily be separated, for the Austrians would by preference defend Lombardy, while the Sardinians must guard the entrance to Piedmont. Peace being assured with the Court of Turin, Lombardy could with ease be overrun, Mantua seized, and Tyrol invaded, as he had previously indicated. The key to the whole problem is thus stated, “ Nature has limited France to the Alps, but she has also limited the Empire to Tyrol.”

This, then, is the basis of the confidence which the young officer felt. The doctrines of Rousseau concerning the influence of nature on man, the principles of strategy, and the teaching of history as to the events that make and unmake empires, alike proclaimed the futility of a northern race striving to hold a straggling fraction of the soil of Italy in face of a great popular impulse championed by a powerful invader. In truth, so striking were the arguments of these two Memoires that they helped to procure for their writer from Pontecoulant the post of assistant at the Topographic Bureau of the Committee of Public Safety (August 19); and the instructions sent by that body to Kellermann at once breathed a livelier tone than before. Scherer took the place of Kellermann, and the arrival of 16,000 splendid fighting men from the Army of the Pyrenees helped to secure the decisive victory near Loano; but, despite Massena’s fiery pursuit of the enemy almost as far as Dego, the new

commander-in-chief failed to rise to the height of the situation. He stopped short at the very point where the grand campaign should have begun. This was what Bonaparte pointed out in further notes to the Committee. For a time his name had been removed from the list of general officers owing to the discovery of his prolonged refusal to take up his command in the Vendee, but he more than recovered his former position by the skill and vigour that he displayed when suddenly appointed to help Barras during the fateful day of 13 Vendemiaire. With the enhanced prestige which he now enjoyed, he showed incisively (January 19, 1796) that, while the Austrians were flying beyond Acqui, the victors should have turned aside so as to crush the Sardinians at their entrenched camp of Ceva, and force the Court of Turin to sue for peace; then “ We enter Lombardy, as if it were Champagne, without obstacles.” This plan attracted the attention of the Committee, which pressed it on Scherer, only to receive the wearily cynical reply that the man who had formed it had better come to carry it out. The Committee took him at his word, and decided on February 29, 1796, that he should be replaced by Bonaparte. The appointment was ratified on March 2.

It is needful to dwell on these facts, for they refute the statements frequently made that the young general owed his position to female influence. In the month of January he gained the hand of Josephine de Beauhamais, a young widow of Creole extraction, one of the most fasci­nating figures in the gay salon of Mme Tallien. Though scandalous tongues named her one of the mistresses of Barras, the young general conceived for her a passion of southern intensity, which she at first coquettishly fanned until its fiery force puzzled and alarmed her. Doubt­fully and languidly, her Creole nonchalance yielded to the insistence of her suitor, for she noted that his hawk-like gaze gained ascendancy over all, even over the Directors themselves. Her chief consolation was that, if she married the needy young man, Barras would help to gain him the command of the Army of Italy; and there seemed ground for hoping that, worn by constant study and hardships and a prey to a malarial fever contracted at Toulon, he would find in the peninsula either speedy death or imperishable renown. As for Bonaparte he accepted the promise of Barras’ help with his usual unbending pride, that flashed out in the scorn with which he spoke to Josephine of the envy shown hy his former comrades, “Do they think that I need patronage to succeed ? They will be only too happy for me to grant them mine. My sword is at my side, and with it I shall go far.” He knew full well that his promotion was due to his plan of campaign which would hear him on to fortune. He was right. Carnot had, as far back as 1794, seen the need of some such scheme of operations, but had hitherto failed to find any man fitted to carry them out. Pondering on the proved courage of Bonaparte, together with the intellectual eminence reflected in his plan of campaign, he judged that his daring spirit, strategic genius, and knowledge of the

country, must achieve great results in the policy of war and conquest on which the Directors were now firmly bent. In 1799 he declared that it was he who had proposed Bonaparte’s appointment; and the testimony of another Director, Larevellicre-L^peaux, also proves that it was not brought about by Barras and female intrigues. On March 9 the marriage took place; and after a honeymoon of two days the young commander left his bride and set out for the headquarters at Nice, where he arrived on March 27.

He found the Army of Italy in a state of confusion and discourage­ment. The whole district had been swept bare of supplies, and the English fleet often intercepted those coming from Genoa or Leghorn; some of the regiments were half in rags, and all of them grumbled loudly at the arrears of pay and the peculations of contractors. Scherer’s soft­ness had lowered the tone of the whole army; and the remodelling of the regimental system, which was still proceeding, gave many an outlet for the utterance of mutinous threats. As for the generals, they looked with pity or disdain on the pale thin figure which, on the strength of a victory gained in the streets of Paris, ventured to take up this impossible task. They were speedily undeceived. The tall swashbuckler, Augereau, who at first almost openly mocked at the “ lath of a man,” speedily fell under the power of his keen grey eyes and curt, masterful speech; Massena, proud of his recent triumphs, that cast into the shade all Bonaparte’s exploits, received him with bluff camaraderie, which was checked at once by the magic of genius; and he soon had to own the superiority of military science to the mere .fighting instincts which his own life of hardship and struggle had so keenly whetted. For the rest, the stem old Serurier, the warlike Swiss La Harpe, the gallant Cervoni, and others, soon proved their worth. With the aid of the friends whom Bonaparte brought from Paris—Berthier, the most methodical, hard­working, and intelligent of executants, a man whose strength and devo­tion set at naught days and nights of almost ceaseless toil; Murat, already known as a dashing officer of cavalry; the sardonic but very able Marmont; that trusty friend and almost puritanical zealot, Duroc, along with his opposite, the bright, vain, and sociable Junot—order began ta be evolved from chaos at the headquarters at Nice. Funds were raised from local banks to meet the most pressing needs; peculations were promptly stopped; the troops were fired by the prospect of glory and plenty which the new commander held out as theirs in the fertile plains of Italy ; and—significant change—he called them not citoyens but soldats. For the first time, too, he thoroughly identified himself with the French by writing his name Bonaparte.

At the beginning of the month of April the military situation was as follows. The French army was spread out widely from Nice to Loano, and thence up to and even beyond Savona. In fact, one of Scherer’s last acts had been, on the request of the Commissioner Salicetti, to despatch

a brigade to Voltri, in order to bring pressure to bear upon the Genoese government and induce them to grant a loan. The results of this move were so marvellously favourable to the French that it has been inscribed in the Napoleonic legend as a first signal proof of the young commander’s foresight in seeking to lure Beaulieu and half of his army into the Riviera. But the despatches of Scherer award to him the responsibility for this move; while Bonaparte’s letter of April 6 to the Directors proves no less clearly that he disapproved of it as arousing Genoa to hostility and the somnolent Austrians to nervous watchfulness. In truth, his “ star ” never shone more auspiciously than at the dawn of his career. This will be evident if we review the plans of the Allies. In an interview which Colli had with Beaulieu at Alessandria on March 27 he strongly urged a joint forward movement in two massed columns, the Austrians driving the French from Dego in on Savona, while the Sardinians were to strike through a more westerly pass at Loano, and thus cut the hostile line in half. This admirable plan did not please Beaulieu. In its place he proposed to hustle the French all along their front; and, as soon as he heard of the move of their vanguard on Voltri, he withdrew troops from Dego, in order to meet it face to face in the Genoese Riviera, and refused to trust to the plan of cutting its communications at Savona, which Colli pointed out would produce the same result in a more trenchant manner. The scheme adopted by the Austrian commander bristled with faults, the worst being that it led to a dangerous dispersion of force, as the column sent through the Bocchetta Pass, north of Genoa, and then along the narrow coast-line, must be almost entirely severed from the centre at Dego by the Apennines. Indeed, so grave were the risks involved by this severance of forces in proportion to the military results thereby attainable, that the whole movement has often been ascribed to a design of the Austrians to seize Genoa; but the despatches of the English Minister at Turin show that rumour had greatly magni­fied the French force at Voltri; and it is also known that Beaulieu wished to concert with Nelson a plan for capturing it entirely at that seaport. Early in April he therefore led some 10,000 men in that direction, while Argenteau at the centre in front of Dego disposed of a smaller force for the seizure of Savona. The Sardinian army, numbering little more than

20,000     men, was farther away to the west at, and to the front of, the camp of Ceva.

Well served by his spies at Genoa and Turin, Bonaparte heard of these faulty dispositions and prepared to deal out prompt punishment. Directing Cervoni at Voltri to hold firm and then to fall back slowly before superior forces, he himself hurried to Savona and took command of the 13,000 men already grouped thereabouts under the command of Massena. The French outposts held the heights dominating the pass that led northwards to Carcare and Dego; one of these bodies, com­manded by Fomesy and Rampon, occupied an old fort on Monte Legino

and bravely beat off the attacks of Argenteau’s vanguard (April 11). Reinforced in the night by Massena and La Harpe, the Republicans fiercely assailed Argenteau very early on the morrow; their dense columns speedily drove in his force, only 3000 strong, through the upper and lower parts of the village of Montenotte, and he rallied scarcely 700 men at Dego. Bonaparte, from a height further to the west, witnessed this running fight, but bent all his energy to the task of hurrying up the divisions of Joubert and Augereau, comprising 8000 men in all, along the high road through Carcare, which the folly of Beaulieu and the timidity of the Sardinians had left open. Up its slopes cannon and stores could be sent with ease—it was known by the peasants as the “road of cannon”—and at nightfall of the 12th a French army of nearly 20,000 men strongly held Carcare and its neighbouring summits. The first part of the campaign was won. Bonaparte had sundered the feeble link that held together the allied forces at the head of the forked road leading towards Alessandria and Turin, and could carry out the long-cherished plan of crushing them in detail.