Bab Bab 48 · Fraternity And Equality Unto All The People Of The Earth

Before we talk about a revolution it is just as well that we explain

just what this word means. In the terms of a great Russian writer (and

Russians ought to know what they are talking about in this field) a

revolution is “a swift overthrow, in a few years, of institutions

which have taken centuries to root in the soil, and seem so fixed and

immovable that even the most ardent reformers hardly dare to attack

them in their writings. It is the fall, the crumbling away in a brief

period, of all that up to that time has composed the essence of social,

religious, political and economic life in a nation.”

Such a revolution took place in France in the eighteenth century when

the old civilisation of the country had grown stale. The king in

the days of Louis XIV had become EVERYTHING and was the state. The

Nobility, formerly the civil servant of the federal state, found itself

without any duties and became a social ornament of the royal court.

This French state of the eighteenth century, however, cost incredible

sums of money. This money had to be produced in the form of taxes.

Unfortunately the kings of France had not been strong enough to force

the nobility and the clergy to pay their share of these taxes. Hence

the taxes were paid entirely by the agricultural population. But the

peasants living in dreary hovels, no longer in intimate contact with

their former landlords, but victims of cruel and incompetent land

agents, were going from bad to worse. Why should they work and exert

themselves? Increased returns upon their land merely meant more taxes

and nothing for themselves and therefore they neglected their fields as

much as they dared.

Hence we have a king who wanders in empty splendour through the vast

halls of his palaces, habitually followed by hungry office seekers, all

of whom live upon the revenue obtained from peasants who are no better

than the beasts of the fields. It is not a pleasant picture, but it

is not exaggerated. There was, however, another side to the so-called

“Ancien Régime” which we must keep in mind.

A wealthy middle class, closely connected with the nobility (by the

usual process of the rich banker’s daughter marrying the poor baron’s

son) and a court composed of all the most entertaining people of

France, had brought the polite art of graceful living to its highest

development. As the best brains of the country were not allowed to

occupy themselves with questions of political economics, they spent

their idle hours upon the discussion of abstract ideas.

As fashions in modes of thought and personal behaviour are quite as

likely to run to extremes as fashion in dress, it was natural that the

most artificial society of that day should take a tremendous interest

in what they considered “the simple life.” The king and the queen, the

absolute and unquestioned proprietors of France, and all its colonies

and dependencies, together with their courtiers, went to live in funny

little country houses all dressed up as milk-maids and stable-boys and

played at being shepherds in a happy vale of ancient Hellas. Around

them, their courtiers danced attendance, their court-musicians composed

lovely minuets, their court barbers devised more and more elaborate

and costly headgear, until from sheer boredom and lack of real jobs,

this whole artificial world of Versailles (the great show place which

Louis XIV had built far away from his noisy and restless city) talked

of nothing but those subjects which were furthest removed from their

own lives, just as a man who is starving will talk of nothing except

food.

When Voltaire, the courageous old philosopher, playwright, historian

and novelist, and the great enemy of all religious and political

tyranny, began to throw his bombs of criticism at everything connected

with the Established Order of Things, the whole French world applauded

him and his theatrical pieces played to standing room only. When

Jean Jacques Rousseau waxed sentimental about primitive man and gave

his contemporaries delightful descriptions of the happiness of the

original inhabitants of this planet, (about whom he knew as little as

he did about the children, upon whose education he was the recognised

authority,) all France read his “Social Contract” and this society in

which the king and the state were one, wept bitter tears when they

heard Rousseau’s appeal for a return to the blessed days when the real

sovereignty had lain in the hands of the people and when the king had

been merely the servant of his people.

When Montesquieu published his “Persian Letters” in which two

distinguished Persian travellers turn the whole existing society of

France topsy-turvy and poke fun at everything from the king down to

the lowest of his six hundred pastry cooks, the book immediately went

through four editions and assured the writer thousands of readers

for his famous discussion of the “Spirit of the Laws” in which the

noble Baron compared the excellent English system with the backward

system of France and advocated instead of an absolute monarchy the

establishment of a state in which the Executive, the Legislative

and the Judicial powers should be in separate hands and should work

independently of each other. When Lebreton, the Parisian book-seller,

announced that Messieurs Diderot, d’Alembert, Turgot and a score of

other distinguished writers were going to publish an Encyclopædia

which was to contain “all the new ideas and the new science and

the new knowledge,” the response from the side of the public was

most satisfactory, and when after twenty-two years the last of

the twenty-eight volumes had been finished, the somewhat belated

interference of the police could not repress the enthusiasm with

which French society received this most important but very dangerous

contribution to the discussions of the day.

[Illustration: THE GUILLOTINE]

Here, let me give you a little warning. When you read a novel about

the French revolution or see a play or a movie, you will easily get

the impression that the Revolution was the work of the rabble from the

Paris slums. It was nothing of the kind. The mob appears often upon the

revolutionary stage, but invariably at the instigation and under the

leadership of those middle-class professional men who used the hungry

multitude as an efficient ally in their warfare upon the king and his

court. But the fundamental ideas which caused the revolution were

invented by a few brilliant minds, and they were at first introduced

into the charming drawing-rooms of the “Ancien Régime” to provide

amiable diversion for the much-bored ladies and gentlemen of his

Majesty’s court. These pleasant but careless people played with the

dangerous fireworks of social criticism until the sparks fell through

the cracks of the floor, which was old and rotten just like the rest of

the building. Those sparks unfortunately landed in the basement where

age-old rubbish lay in great confusion. Then there was a cry of fire.

But the owner of the house who was interested in everything except the

management of his property, did not know how to put the small blaze

out. The flame spread rapidly and the entire edifice was consumed by

the conflagration, which we call the Great French Revolution.

For the sake of convenience, we can divide the French Revolution into

two parts. From 1789 to 1791 there was a more or less orderly attempt

to introduce a constitutional monarchy. This failed, partly through

lack of good faith and stupidity on the part of the monarch himself,

partly through circumstances over which nobody had any control.

From 1792 to 1799 there was a Republic and a first effort to establish

a democratic form of government. But the actual outbreak of violence

had been preceded by many years of unrest and many sincere but

ineffectual attempts at reform.

When France had a debt of 4000 million francs and the treasury was

always empty and there was not a single thing upon which new taxes

could be levied, even good King Louis (who was an expert locksmith and

a great hunter but a very poor statesman) felt vaguely that something

ought to be done. Therefore he called for Turgot, to be his Minister

of Finance. Anne Robert Jacques Turgot, Baron de l’Aulne, a man in

the early sixties, a splendid representative of the fast disappearing

class of landed gentry, had been a successful governor of a province

and was an amateur political economist of great ability. He did

his best. Unfortunately, he could not perform miracles. As it was

impossible to squeeze more taxes out of the ragged peasants, it was

necessary to get the necessary funds from the nobility and clergy who

had never paid a centime. This made Turgot the best hated man at the

court of Versailles. Furthermore he was obliged to face the enmity of

Marie Antoinette, the queen, who was against everybody who dared to

mention the word “economy” within her hearing. Soon Turgot was called

an “unpractical visionary” and a “theoretical professor” and then of

course his position became untenable. In the year 1776 he was forced to

resign.

After the “professor” there came a man of Practical Business Sense. He

was an industrious Swiss by the name of Necker who had made himself

rich as a grain speculator and the partner in an international banking

house. His ambitious wife had pushed him into the government service

that she might establish a position for her daughter who afterwards as

the wife of the Swedish minister in Paris, Baron de Staël, became a

famous literary figure of the early nineteenth century.

Necker set to work with a fine display of zeal just as Turgot had

done. In 1781 he published a careful review of the French finances.

The king understood nothing of this “Compte Rendu.” He had just sent

troops to America to help the colonists against their common enemies,

the English. This expedition proved to be unexpectedly expensive and

Necker was asked to find the necessary funds. When instead of producing

revenue, he published more figures and made statistics and began to use

the dreary warning about “necessary economies” his days were numbered.

In the year 1781 he was dismissed as an incompetent servant.

[Illustration: LOUIS XVI]

After the Professor and the Practical Business Man came the delightful

type of financier who will guarantee everybody 100 per cent. per month

on their money if only they will trust his own infallible system. He

was Charles Alexandre de Calonne, a pushing official, who had made

his career both by his industry and his complete lack of honesty and

scruples. He found the country heavily indebted, but he was a clever

man, willing to oblige everybody, and he invented a quick remedy. He

paid the old debts by contracting new ones. This method is not new. The

result since time immemorial has been disastrous. In less than three

years more than 800,000,000 francs had been added to the French debt

by this charming Minister of Finance who never worried and smilingly

signed his name to every demand that was made by His Majesty and by his

lovely Queen, who had learned the habit of spending during the days of

her youth in Vienna.

At last even the Parliament of Paris (a high court of justice and not

a legislative body) although by no means lacking in loyalty to their

sovereign, decided that something must be done. Calonne wanted to

borrow another 80,000,000 francs. It had been a bad year for the crops

and the misery and hunger in the country districts were terrible.

Unless something sensible were done, France would go bankrupt. The King

as always was unaware of the seriousness of the situation. Would it not

be a good idea to consult the representatives of the people? Since 1614

no Estates General had been called together. In view of the threatening

panic there was a demand that the Estates be convened. Louis XVI

however, who never could take a decision, refused to go as far as that.

To pacify the popular clamour he called together a meeting of the

Notables in the year 1787. This merely meant a gathering of the

best families who discussed what could and should be done, without

touching their feudal and clerical privilege of tax-exemption. It is

unreasonable to expect that a certain class of society shall commit

political and economic suicide for the benefit of another group of

fellow-citizens. The 127 Notables obstinately refused to surrender a

single one of their ancient rights. The crowd in the street, being now

exceedingly hungry, demanded that Necker, in whom they had confidence,

be reappointed. The Notables said “No.” The crowd in the street began

to smash windows and do other unseemly things. The Notables fled.

Calonne was dismissed.

A new colourless Minister of Finance, the Cardinal Loménie de Brienne,

was appointed and Louis, driven by the violent threats of his starving

subjects, agreed to call together the old Estates General as “soon as

practicable.” This vague promise of course satisfied no one.

No such severe winter had been experienced for almost a century. The

crops had been either destroyed by floods or had been frozen to death

in the fields. All the olive trees of Provence had been killed. Private

charity tried to do something but could accomplish little for eighteen

million starving people. Everywhere bread riots occurred. A generation

before these would have been put down by the army. But the work of

the new philosophical school had begun to bear fruit. People began to

understand that a shotgun is no effective remedy for a hungry stomach

and even the soldiers (who came from among the people) were no longer

to be depended upon. It was absolutely necessary that the king should

do something definite to regain the popular goodwill, but again he

hesitated.

Here and there in the provinces, little independent Republics were

established by followers of the new school. The cry of “no taxation

without representation” (the slogan of the American rebels a quarter of

a century before) was heard among the faithful middle classes. France

was threatened with general anarchy. To appease the people and to

increase the royal popularity, the government unexpectedly suspended

the former very strict form of censorship of books. At once a flood

of ink descended upon France. Everybody, high or low, criticised and

was criticised. More than 2000 pamphlets were published. Loménie de

Brienne was swept away by a storm of abuse. Necker was hastily called

back to placate, as best he could, the nation-wide unrest. Immediately

the stock market went up thirty per cent. And by common consent,

people suspended judgment for a little while longer. In May of 1789

the Estates General were to assemble and then the wisdom of the entire

nation would speedily solve the difficult problem of recreating the

kingdom of France into a healthy and happy state.

This prevailing idea, that the combined wisdom of the people would

be able to solve all difficulties, proved disastrous. It lamed all

personal effort during many important months. Instead of keeping the

government in his own hands at this critical moment, Necker allowed

everything to drift. Hence there was a new outbreak of the acrimonious

debate upon the best ways to reform the old kingdom. Everywhere the

power of the police weakened. The people of the Paris suburbs, under

the leadership of professional agitators, gradually began to discover

their strength, and commenced to play the rôle which was to be theirs

all through the years of the great unrest, when they acted as the brute

force which was used by the actual leaders of the Revolution to secure

those things which could not be obtained in a legitimate fashion.

[Illustration: THE BASTILLE]

As a sop to the peasants and the middle class, Necker decided that they

should be allowed a double representation in the Estates General. Upon

this subject, the Abbé Siéyès then wrote a famous pamphlet, “To what

does the Third Estate Amount?” in which he came to the conclusion that

the Third Estate (a name given to the middle class) ought to amount

to everything, that it had not amounted to anything in the past, and

that it now desired to amount to something. He expressed the sentiment

of the great majority of the people who had the best interests of the

country at heart.

Finally the elections took place under the worst conditions

imaginable. When they were over, 308 clergymen, 285 noblemen and 621

representatives of the Third Estate packed their trunks to go to

Versailles. The Third Estate was obliged to carry additional luggage.

This consisted of voluminous reports called “cahiers” in which the many

complaints and grievances of their constituents had been written down.

The stage was set for the great final act that was to save France.

The Estates General came together on May 5th, 1789. The king was in a

bad humour. The Clergy and the Nobility let it be known that they were

unwilling to give up a single one of their privileges. The king ordered

the three groups of representatives to meet in different rooms and

discuss their grievances separately. The Third Estate refused to obey

the royal command. They took a solemn oath to that effect in a squash

court (hastily put in order for the purpose of this illegal meeting) on

the 20th of June, 1789. They insisted that all three Estates, Nobility,

Clergy and Third Estate, should meet together and so informed His

Majesty. The king gave in.

As the “National Assembly,” the Estates General began to discuss

the state of the French kingdom. The King got angry. Then again he

hesitated. He said that he would never surrender his absolute power.

Then he went hunting, forgot all about the cares of the state and when

he returned from the chase he gave in. For it was the royal habit

to do the right thing at the wrong time in the wrong way. When the

people clamoured for A, the king scolded them and gave them nothing.

Then, when the Palace was surrounded by a howling multitude of poor

people, the king surrendered and gave his subjects what they had asked

for. By this time, however, the people wanted A plus B. The comedy

was repeated. When the king signed his name to the Royal Decree which

granted his beloved subjects A and B they were threatening to kill the

entire royal family unless they received A plus B plus C. And so on,

through the whole alphabet and up to the scaffold.

Unfortunately the king was always just one letter behind. He never

understood this. Even when he laid his head under the guillotine,

he felt that he was a much-abused man who had received a most

unwarrantable treatment at the hands of people whom he had loved to the

best of his limited ability.

Historical “ifs,” as I have often warned you, are never of any value.

It is very easy for us to say that the monarchy might have been saved

“if” Louis had been a man of greater energy and less kindness of heart.

But the king was not alone. Even “if” he had possessed the ruthless

strength of Napoleon, his career during these difficult days might have

been easily ruined by his wife who was the daughter of Maria Theresa of

Austria and who possessed all the characteristic virtues and vices of a

young girl who had been brought up at the most autocratic and mediæval

court of that age.

She decided that some action must be taken and planned a

counter-revolution. Necker was suddenly dismissed and loyal troops

were called to Paris. The people, when they heard of this, stormed

the fortress of the Bastille prison, and on the fourteenth of July of

the year 1789, they destroyed this familiar but much-hated symbol of

Autocratic Power which had long since ceased to be a political prison

and was now used as the city lock-up for pickpockets and second-story

men. Many of the nobles took the hint and left the country. But the

king as usual did nothing. He had been hunting on the day of the fall

of the Bastille and he had shot several deer and felt very much pleased.

The National Assembly now set to work and on the 4th of August, with

the noise of the Parisian multitude in their ears, they abolished all

privileges. This was followed on the 27th of August by the “Declaration

of the Rights of Man,” the famous preamble to the first French

constitution. So far so good, but the court had apparently not yet

learned its lesson. There was a wide-spread suspicion that the king

was again trying to interfere with these reforms and as a result, on

the 5th of October, there was a second riot in Paris. It spread to

Versailles and the people were not pacified until they had brought the

king back to his palace in Paris. They did not trust him in Versailles.

They liked to have him where they could watch him and control his

correspondence with his relatives in Vienna and Madrid and the other

courts of Europe.

In the Assembly meanwhile, Mirabeau, a nobleman who had become leader

of the Third Estate, was beginning to put order into chaos. But before

he could save the position of the king he died, on the 2nd of April of

the year 1791. The king, who now began to fear for his own life, tried

to escape on the 21st of June. He was recognised from his picture on

a coin, was stopped near the village of Varennes by members of the

National Guard, and was brought back to Paris.

In September of 1791, the first constitution of France was accepted,

and the members of the National Assembly went home. On the first of

October of 1791, the legislative assembly came together to continue

the work of the National Assembly. In this new gathering of popular

representatives there were many extremely revolutionary elements. The

boldest among these were known as the Jacobins, after the old Jacobin

cloister in which they held their political meetings. These young men

(most of them belonging to the professional classes) made very violent

speeches and when the newspapers carried these orations to Berlin and

Vienna, the King of Prussia and the Emperor decided that they must

do something to save their good brother and sister. They were very

busy just then dividing the kingdom of Poland, where rival political

factions had caused such a state of disorder that the country was at

the mercy of anybody who wanted to take a couple of provinces. But they

managed to send an army to invade France and deliver the king.

Then a terrible panic of fear swept throughout the land of France. All

the pent-up hatred of years of hunger and suffering came to a horrible

climax. The mob of Paris stormed the palace of the Tuileries. The

faithful Swiss bodyguards tried to defend their master, but Louis,

unable to make up his mind, gave order to “cease firing” just when the

crowd was retiring. The people, drunk with blood and noise and cheap

wine, murdered the Swiss to the last man, then invaded the palace, and

went after Louis who had escaped into the meeting hall of the Assembly,

where he was immediately suspended of his office, and from where he was

taken as a prisoner to the old castle of the Temple.

But the armies of Austria and Prussia continued their advance and the

panic changed into hysteria and turned men and women into wild beasts.

In the first week of September of the year 1792, the crowd broke into

the jails and murdered all the prisoners. The government did not

interfere. The Jacobins, headed by Danton, knew that this crisis meant

either the success or the failure of the revolution, and that only the

most brutal audacity could save them. The Legislative Assembly was

closed and on the 21st of September of the year 1792, a new National

Convention came together. It was a body composed almost entirely of

extreme revolutionists. The king was formally accused of high treason

and was brought before the Convention. He was found guilty and by a

vote of 361 to 360 (the extra vote being that of his cousin the Duke of

Orleans) he was condemned to death. On the 21st of January of the year

1793, he quietly and with much dignity suffered himself to be taken to

the scaffold. He had never understood what all the shooting and the

fuss had been about. And he had been too proud to ask questions.

Then the Jacobins turned against the more moderate element in the

convention, the Girondists, called after their southern district, the

Gironde. A special revolutionary tribunal was instituted and twenty-one

of the leading Girondists were condemned to death. The others committed

suicide. They were capable and honest men but too philosophical and too

moderate to survive during these frightful years.

In October of the year 1793 the Constitution was suspended by the

Jacobins “until peace should have been declared.” All power was placed

in the hands of a small committee of Public Safety, with Danton

and Robespierre as its leaders. The Christian religion and the old

chronology were abolished. The “Age of Reason” (of which Thomas Paine

had written so eloquently during the American Revolution) had come and

with it the “Terror” which for more than a year killed good and bad and

indifferent people at the rate of seventy or eighty a day.

[Illustration: THE FRENCH REVOLUTION INVADES HOLLAND]

The autocratic rule of the King had been destroyed. It was succeeded

by the tyranny of a few people who had such a passionate love for

democratic virtue that they felt compelled to kill all those who

disagreed with them. France was turned into a slaughter house.

Everybody suspected everybody else. No one felt safe. Out of sheer

fear, a few members of the old Convention, who knew that they were the

next candidates for the scaffold, finally turned against Robespierre,

who had already decapitated most of his former colleagues. Robespierre,

“the only true and pure Democrat,” tried to kill himself but failed.

His shattered jaw was hastily bandaged and he was dragged to the

guillotine. On the 27th of July, of the year 1794 (the 9th Thermidor of

the year II, according to the strange chronology of the revolution),

the reign of Terror came to an end, and all Paris danced with joy.

The dangerous position of France, however, made it necessary that the

government remain in the hands of a few strong men, until the many

enemies of the revolution should have been driven from the soil of the

French fatherland. While the half-clad and half-starved revolutionary

armies fought their desperate battles of the Rhine and Italy and

Belgium and Egypt, and defeated every one of the enemies of the Great

Revolution, five Directors were appointed, and they ruled France for

four years. Then the power was vested in the hands of a successful

general by the name of Napoleon Bonaparte, who became “First Consul”

of France in the year 1799. And during the next fifteen years, the

old European continent became the laboratory of a number of political

experiments, the like of which the world had never seen before.