Volume 12 — History of the French Revolution

François Auguste Alexis Mignet was born at Aix, in Provence, on May 8, 1796, and began life at the Bar. It soon became apparent that his true vocation was history, and in 1818 he left his native town for Paris, where he became attached to the "Courier Français," in the meantime delivering with considerable success a series of lectures on modern history at the Athénée. Mignet may be said to be the first great specialist to devote himself to the study of particular periods of French history. His "History of the French Revolution, from 1789 to 1814," published in 1824, is a strikingly sane and lucid arrangement of facts that came into his hands in chaotic masses. Eminently concise, exact, and clear, it is the first complete account by one other than an actor in the great drama. Mignet was elected to the French Academy in 1836, and afterwards published a series of masterly studies dealing with the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, among which are "Antonio Perez and Philip II.," and "The History of Mary, Queen of Scots," and also biographies of Franklin and Charles V. He died on March 24, 1884.

I.--The Last Resort of the Throne

I am about to take a rapid review of the history of the French Revolution, which began the era of new societies in Europe, as the English revolution had begun the era of new governments.

Louis XVI. ascended the throne on May 11, 1774. Finances, whose deficiencies neither the restorative ministry of Cardinal de Fleury, nor the bankrupt ministry of the Abbé Terray had been able to make good, authority disregarded, an imperious public opinion; such were the difficulties which the new reign inherited from its predecessors. And in choosing, on his accession to the throne, Maurepas as prime minister, Louis XVI. eminently contributed to the irresolute character of his reign. On the death of Maurepas the queen took his place with Louis XVI., and inherited all his influence over him. Maurepas, mistrusting court ministers, had always chosen popular ministers; it is true he did not support them; but if good was not brought about, at least evil did not increase. After his death, court ministers succeeded the popular ministers, and by their faults rendered the crisis inevitable which others had endeavoured to prevent by their reforms. This difference of choice is very remarkable; this it was which, by the change of men, brought on the change of the system of administration. The revolution dates front this epoch; the abandonment of reforms and the return of disorders hastened its approach and augmented its fury.

After the failure of the queen's minister the States-General had become the only means of government, and the last resources of the throne. The king, on August 8, 1788, fixed the opening for May 1, 1789. Necker, the popular minister of finance, was recalled, and prepared everything for the election of deputies and the holding of the States.

A religious ceremony preceded their installation. The king, his family, his ministers, the deputies of the three orders, went in procession from the Church of Nôtre Dame to that of St. Louis, to hear the opening mass.

The royal sitting took place the following day in the Salle des Menus. Galleries, arranged in the form of an amphitheatre, were filled with spectators. The deputies were summoned, and introduced according to the order established in 1614. The clergy were conducted to the right, the nobility to the left, and the commons in front of the throne at the end of the hall. The deputations from Dauphiné, from Crépy-en-Valois, to which the Duke of Orleans belonged, and from Provence, were received with loud applause. Necker was also received on his entrance with general enthusiasm.

Barentin, keeper of the seals, spoke next after the king. His speech displayed little knowledge of the wishes of the nation, or it sought openly to combat them. The dissatisfied assembly looked to M. Necker, from whom it expected different language.

The court, so far from wishing to organise the States-General, sought to annul them. No efforts were spared to keep the nobility and clergy separate from and in opposition to the commons; but on May 6, the day after the opening of the States, the nobility and clergy repaired to their respective chambers, and constituted themselves. The Third Estate being, on account of its double representation, the most numerous order, had the Hall of the States allotted to it, and there awaited the two other orders; it considered its situation as provisional, its members as presumptive deputies, and adopted a system of inactivity till the other orders should unite with it. Then a memorable struggle began, the issue of which was to decide whether the revolution should be effected or stopped.

The commons, having finished the verification of their own powers of membership on June 17, on the motion of Sieyès, constituted themselves the National Assembly, and refused to recognise the other two orders till they submitted, and changed the assembly of the States into an assembly of the people.

It was decided that the king should go in state to the Assembly, annul its decrees, command the separation of the orders as constitutive of the monarchy, and himself fix the reforms to be effected by the States-General. It was feared that the majority of the clergy would recognise the Assembly by uniting with it; and to prevent so decided a step, instead of hastening the royal sittings, they and the government closed the Hall of the States, in order to suspend the Assembly till the day of that royal session.

At an appointed hour on June 20 the president of the commons repaired to the Hall of the States, and finding an armed force in possession, he protested against this act of despotism. In the meantime the deputies arrived, and dissatisfaction increased. The most indignant proposed going to Marly and holding the Assembly under the windows of the king; one named the Tennis Court; this proposition was well received, and the deputies repaired thither in procession.

Bailly was at their head; the people followed them with enthusiasm, even soldiers volunteered to escort them, and there, in a bare hall, the deputies of the commons, standing with upraised hands, and hearts full of their sacred mission, swore, with only one exception, not to separate till they had given France a constitution.

By these two failures the court prefaced the famous sitting of June 23.

At length it took place. A numerous guard surrounded the hall of the States-General, the door of which was opened to the deputies, but closed to the public. After a scene of authority, ill-suited to the occasion, and at variance with his heart, Louis XVI. withdrew, having commanded the deputies to disperse. The clergy and nobility obeyed. The deputies of the people, motionless, silent, and indignant, remained seated.

The grand-master of the ceremonies, finding the Assembly did not break up, came and reminded them of the king's order.

"Go and tell your master," cried Mirabeau, "that we, are here at the command of the people, and nothing but the bayonet shall drive us hence."

"You are to-day," added Sieyès calmly, "what you were yesterday. Let us deliberate."

The Assembly, full of resolution and dignity, began the debate accordingly.

On that day the royal authority was lost. The initiative in law and moral power passed from the monarch to the Assembly. Those who, by their counsels, had provoked this resistance did not dare to punish it Necker, whose dismissal had been decided on that morning, was, in the evening, entreated by the queen and Louis XVI. to remain in office.

II.---"À la Bastille!"

The court might still have repaired its errors, and caused its attacks to be forgotten. But the advisers of Louis XVI., when they recovered from the first surprise of defeat, resolved to have recourse to the use of the bayonet after they had failed in that of authority.

The troops arrived in great numbers; Versailles assumed the aspect of a camp; the Hall of the States was surrounded by guards, and the citizens refused admission. Paris was also encompassed by various bodies of the army ready to besiege or blockade it, as the occasion might require; when the court, having established troops at Versailles, Sèvres, the Champ de Mars, and St. Denis, thought it able to execute its project. It began on July 11, by the banishment of Necker, who received while at dinner a note from the king enjoining him to leave the country immediately.

On the following day, Sunday, July 12, about four in the afternoon, Necker's disgrace and departure became known in Paris. More than ten thousand persons flocked to the Palais Royal. They took busts of Necker and the Duke of Orleans, a report also having gone abroad that the latter would be exiled, and covering them with crape, carried them in triumph. A detachment of the Royal Allemand came up and attempted to disperse the mob; but the multitude, continuing its course, reached the Place Louis XV. Here they were assailed by the dragoons of the Prince de Lambese. After resisting a few moments they were thrown into confusion; the bearer of one of the busts and a soldier of one of the French guards were killed.

During the evening the people had repaired to the Hôtel de Ville, and requested that the tocsin might be sounded. Some electors assembled at the Hôtel de Ville, and took the authority into their own hands. The nights of July 12 and 13 were spent in tumult and alarm.

On July 13 the insurrection took in Paris a more regular character. The provost of the merchants announced the immediate arrival of twelve thousand guns from the manufactory of Charleville, which would soon be followed by thirty thousand more.

The next day, July 14, the people that had been unable to obtain arms on the preceding day came early in the morning to solicit some from the committee, hurried in a mass to the Hôtel des Invalides, which contained a considerable depot of arms, found 28,000 guns concealed in the cellars, seized them, took all the sabres, swords, and cannon, and carried them off in triumph; while the cannon were placed at the entrance of the Faubourgs, at the palace of the Tuileries, on the quays and on the bridges, for the defence of the capital against the invasion of troops, which was expected every moment.

From nine in the morning till two the only rallying word throughout Paris was "À la Bastille! A la Bastille!" The citizens hastened thither in bands from all quarters, armed with guns, pikes, and sabres. The crowd which already surrounded it was considerable; the sentinels of the fortress were at their posts, and the drawbridges raised as in war. The populace advanced to cut the chains of the bridge. The garrison dispersed them with a charge of musketry. They returned, however, to the attack, and for several hours their efforts were confined to the bridge, the approach to which was defended by a ceaseless fire from the fortress.

The siege had lasted more than four hours when the French guards arrived with cannon. Their arrival changed the appearance of the combat. The garrison itself begged the governor to yield.

The gates were opened, the bridge lowered, and the crowd rushed into the Bastille.

III.--"Bread! Bread!"

The multitude which was enrolled on July 14 was not yet, in the following autumn, disbanded. And the people, who were in want of bread, wished for the king to reside at Paris, in the hope that his presence would diminish or put a stop to the dearth of provisions. On the pretext of protecting itself against the movements in Paris, the court summoned troops to Versailles, doubled the household guards, and sent in September (1789) for the dragoons and the Flanders regiment.

The officers of the Flanders regiment, received with anxiety in the town of Versailles, were fêted at the château, and even admitted to the queen's card tables. Endeavours were made to secure their devotion, and on October 1, a banquet was given to them by the king's guards. The king was announced. He entered attired in a hunting dress, the queen leaning on his arm and carrying the dauphin. Shouts of affection and devotion arose on every side. The health of the royal family was drunk with swords drawn, and when Louis XVI. withdrew the music played "O Richard! O mon roi! L'univers t'abandonne." The scene now assumed a very significant character; the march of the Hullans and the profusion of wine deprived the guests of all reserve. The charge was sounded; tottering guests climbed the boxes as if mounting to an assault; white cockades were distributed; the tri-colour cockade, it is said, was trampled on.

The news of this banquet produced the greatest sensation in Paris. On the 4th suppressed rumours announced an insurrection; the multitude already looked towards Versailles. On the 5th the insurrection broke out in a violent and invincible manner; the entire want of flour was the signal. A young girl, entering a guardhouse, seized a drum and rushed through the streets beating it and crying, "Bread! Bread!" She was soon surrounded by a crowd of women. This mob advanced towards the Hôtel de Ville, increasing as it went. It forced the guard that stood at the door, and penetrated into the interior, clamouring for bread and arms; it broke open doors, seized weapons, and marched towards Versailles. The people soon rose en masse, uttering the same demand, till the cry "To Versailles!" rose on every side. The women started first, headed by Maillard, one of the volunteers of the Bastille. The populace, the National Guard, and the French guards requested to follow them.

During this tumult the court was in consternation; the flight of the king was suggested, and carriages prepared. But, in the meantime, the rain, fatigue, and the inaction of the household troops lessened the fury of the multitude, and Lafayette arrived at the head of the Parisian army.

His presence restored security to the court, and the replies of the king to the deputation from Paris satisfied the multitude and the army.

About six next morning, however, some men of the lower class, more enthusiastic than the rest, and awake sooner than they, prowled round the château. Finding a gate open, they informed their companions, and entered.

Lafayette, apprised of the invasion of the royal residence, mounted his horse and rode hastily to the scene of danger. On the square he met some of the household troops surrounded by an infuriated mob, who were on the point of killing them. He threw himself among them, called some French guards who were near, and having rescued the household troops and dispersed their assailant, he hurried to the château. But the scene was not over. The crowd assembled again in the marble court under the king's balcony, loudly called for him, and he appeared. They required his departure for Paris. He promised to repair thither with his family, and this promise was received with general applause. The queen was resolved to accompany him, but the prejudice against her was so strong that the journey was not without danger. It was necessary to reconcile her with the multitude. Lafayette proposed to her to accompany him to the balcony. After some hesitation, she consented. They appeared on it together, and to communicate by a sign with the tumultuous crowd, to conquer its animosity and to awaken its enthusiasm, Lafayette respectfully kissed the queen's hand. The crowd responded with acclamations.

Thus terminated the scene; the royal family set out for Paris, escorted by the army, and its guards mixed with it.

The autumn of 1789 and the whole of the year 1790 were passed in the debate and promulgation of rapid and drastic reforms, by which the Parliament within eighteen months reduced the monarchy to little more than a form. Mirabeau, the most popular member, and in a sense the leader of the Parliament, secretly agreed with the court to save the monarchy from destruction; but on his sudden death, on April 2, 1791, the king and queen, in terror at their situation, determined to fly from Paris. The plan, which was matured during May and June, was to reach the frontier fortress of Montmédy by way of Chalons, and to take refuge with the army on the frontier.

The royal family made every preparation for departure; very few persons were informed of it, and no measures betrayed it. Louis XVI. and the queen, on the contrary, pursued a line of conduct calculated to silence suspicion, and on the night of June 20 they issued at the appointed hour from the château, one by one, in disguise, and took the road to Chalons and Montmédy.

The success of the first day's journey, the increasing distance from Paris, rendered the king less reserved and more confident. He had the imprudence to show himself, was recognised, and arrested at Varennes on the 21st.

The king was provisionally suspended--a guard set over him, as over the queen--and commissioners were appointed to question him.

IV.--Europe Declares War on the Revolution

While this was passing in the Assembly and in Paris, the emigrants, whom the flight of Louis XVI. had elated with hope, were thrown into consternation at his arrest. Monsieur, who had fled at the same time as his brother, and with better fortune, arrived alone at Brussels with the powers and title of regent. The emigrants thenceforth relied only on the assistance of Europe; the officers quitted their colours; 290 members of the Assembly protested against its decrees; in order to legitimatise invasion, Bouillé wrote a threatening letter, in the inconceivable hope of intimidating the Assembly, and at the same time to take up himself the sole responsibility of the flight of Louis XVI.; finally the emperor, the King of Prussia, and the Count d'Artois met at Pilnitz, where they made the famous declaration of August 27, 1791, preparatory to the invasion of France.

On April 20, 1792, Louis XVI. went to the Assembly, attended by all his ministers. In that sitting war was almost unanimously decided upon. Thus was undertaken against the chief of confederate powers that war which was protracted throughout a quarter of a century, which victoriously established the revolution, and which changed the whole face of Europe.

On July 28, when the allied army of the invaders began to move from Coblentz, the Duke of Brunswick, its commander-in-chief, published a manifesto in the name of the emperor and the King of Prussia. He declared that the allied sovereigns were advancing to put an end to anarchy in France, to arrest the attacks made on the altar and the throne. He said that the inhabitants of towns who dared to stand on the defensive should instantly be punished as rebels, with the rigour of war, and their houses demolished or burned; and that if the Tuileries were attacked or insulted, the princes would deliver Paris over to military execution and total subversion.

This fiery and impolitic manifesto more than anything else hastened the fall of the throne, and prevented the success of the coalition.

The insurgents fixed the attack on the Tuileries for the morning of August 10. The vanguard of the Faubourgs, composed of Marseillese and Breton Federates, had already arrived by the Rue Saint Honoré, stationed themselves in battle array on the Carrousel, and turned their cannon against the Tuileries, when Louis XVI. left his chamber with his family, ministers, and the members of the department, and announced to the persons assembled for the defence of the palace that he was going to the National Assembly. All motives for resistance ceased with the king's departure. The means of defence had also been diminished by the departure of the National Guards who escorted the king. The Swiss discharged a murderous fire on the assailants, who were dispersed. The Place du Carrousel was cleared. But the Marseillese and Bretons soon returned with renewed force; the Swiss were fired on by the cannon, and surrounded; and the crowd perpetrated in the palace all the excesses of victory.

Royalty had already fallen, and thus on August 10 began the dictatorial and arbitrary epoch of the revolution.

During three days, from September 2, the prisoners confined in the Carmes, the Abbaye, the Conciergerie, the Force, etc., were slaughtered by a band of about three hundred assassins. On the 20th, the in itself almost insignificant success of Valmy, by checking the invasion, produced on our troops and upon opinion in France the effect of the most complete victory.

On the same day the new Parliament, the Convention, began its deliberations. In its first sitting it abolished royalty, and proclaimed the republic. And already Robespierre, who played so terrible a part in our revolution, was beginning to take a prominent position in the debates.

The discussion on the trial of Louis XVI. began on November 13. The Assembly unanimously decided, on January 20, 1793, that Louis was guilty; when the appeal was put to the question, 284 voices voted for, 424 against it; 10 declined voting. Then came the terrible question as to the nature of the punishment. Paris was in a state of the greatest excitement; deputies were threatened at the very door of the Assembly. There were 721 voters. The actual majority was 361. The death of the king was decided by a majority of 26 votes.

He was executed at half-past ten in the morning of January 21, and his death was the signal for an almost universal war.

This time all the frontiers of France were to be attacked by the European powers.

The cabinet of St. James, on learning the death of Louis XVI., dismissed the Ambassador Chauvelin, whom it had refused to acknowledge since August 10 and the dethronement of the king. The Convention, finding England already leagued with the coalition, and consequently all its promises of neutrality vain and illusive, on February 1, 1793, declared war against the King of Great Britain and the stadtholder of Holland, who had been entirely guided by the cabinet of St. James since 1788.

Spain came to a rupture with the republic, after having interceded in vain for Louis XVI., and made its neutrality the price of the life of the king. The German Empire entirely adopted the war; Bavaria, Suabia, and the Elector Palatine joined the hostile circles of the empire. Naples followed the example of the Holy See, and the only neutral powers were Venice, Switzerland, Sweden, Denmark, and Turkey.

In order to confront so many enemies, the Convention decreed a levy of 300,000 men.

The Austrians assumed the offensive, and at Liège put our army wholly to the rout.

Meanwhile, partial disturbances had taken place several times in La Vendée. The Vendéans beat the gendarmerie at Saint Florens. The troops of the line and the battalions of the National Guard who advanced against the insurgents were defeated.

At the same time tidings of new military disasters arrived, one after the other. Dumouriez ventured a general action at Neerwinden, and lost it. Belgium was evacuated, Dumouriez had recourse to the guilty project of defection. He had conference with Colonel Mack, and agreed with the Austrians to march upon Paris for the purpose of re-establishing the monarchy, leaving them on the frontiers, and having first given up to them several fortresses as a guarantee. He proceeded to the execution of his impractical design. He was really in a very difficult position; the soldiers were very much attached to him, but they were also devoted to their country. He had the commissioners of the Convention arrested by German hussars, and delivered them as hostages to the Austrians. After this act of revolt he could no longer hesitate. He tried to induce the army to join him, but was forsaken by it, and then went over to the Austrian camp with the Duc de Chartres, Colonel Thouvenot, and two squadrons of Berchiny. The rest of his army went to the camp at Famars, and joined the troops commanded by Dampierre.

The Convention on learning the arrest of the commissions, established itself as a permanent assembly, declared Dumouriez a traitor, authorised any citizen to attack him, set a price on his head, and decreed the famous Committee of Public Safety.

V.---The Committee of Public Safety

Thus was created that terrible power which first destroyed the enemies of the Mountain, then the Mountain and the commune, and, lastly, itself. The committee did everything in the name of the Convention, which it used as an instrument. It nominated and dismissed generals, ministers, representatives, commissioners, judges, and juries. It assailed factions; it took the initiative in all measures. Through its commissioners, armies and generals were dependent upon it, and it ruled the departments with sovereign sway.

By means of the law touching suspected persons, it disposed of men's liberties; by the revolutionary tribunal, of men's lives; by levies and the maximum, of property; by decrees of accusation in the terrified Convention, of its own members. Lastly, its dictatorship was supported by the multitude who debated in the clubs, ruled in the revolutionary committees; whose services it paid by a daily stipend, and whom it fed with the maximum. The multitude adhered to a system which inflamed its passions, exaggerated its importance, assigned it the first place, and appeared to do everything for it.

Two enemies, however, threatened the power of this dictatorial government. Danton and his faction, whose established popularity gave him great weight, and who, as victory over the allies seemed more certain, demanded a cessation of the "Terror," or martial law of the committee; and the commune, or extreme republican municipal government of Paris.

The Committee of Public Safety was too strong not to triumph over the commune, but, at the same time, it had to resist the moderate party, which demanded the cessation of the revolutionary government and the dictatorship of the committees. The revolutionary government had only been created to restrain, the dictatorship to conquer; and as Danton and his party no longer considered restraint within and further victory abroad essential, they sought to establish legal order. Early in 1794 it was time for Danton to defend himself; the proscription, after striking the commune, threatened him. He was advised to be on his guard and to take immediate steps. His friends implored him to defend himself.

"I would rather," said he, "be guillotined than be a guillotiner; besides, my life is not worth the trouble, and I am sick of the world!"

"Well, then, thou shouldst depart."

"Depart!" he repeated, curling his lip disdainfully, "Depart! Can we carry your country away on the sole of our shoe?"

On Germinal 10, as the revolutionary calendar went (March 31, 1796), he was informed that his arrest was being discussed in the Committee of Public Safety. His arrest gave rise to general excitement, to a sombre anxiety. Danton and the rest of the accused were brought before the revolutionary tribunal. They displayed an audacity of speech and a contempt of their judges wholly unusual. They were taken to the Conciergerie, and thence to the scaffold.

They went to death with the intrepidity usual at that epoch. There were many troops under arms, and their escort was numerous. The crowd, generally loud in its applause, was silent. Danton stood erect, and looked proudly and calmly around. At the foot of the scaffold he betrayed a momentary emotion. "Oh, my best beloved--my wife!" he cried. "I shall not see thee again!" Then suddenly interrupting himself: "No weakness, Danton!"

Thus perished the last defender of humanity and moderation; the last who sought to promote peace among the conquerors of the revolution and pity for the conquered. For a long time no voice was raised against the dictatorship of terror. During the four months following the fall of the Danton party, the committee exercised their authority without opposition or restraint. Death became the only means of governing, and the republic was given up to daily and systematic executions.

Robespierre, who was considered the founder of a moral democracy, now attained the highest degree of elevation and of power. He became the object of the general flattery of his party; he was the great man of the republic. At the Jacobins and in the Convention his preservation was attributed to "the good genius of the republic" and to the Supreme Being, Whose existence he had decreed on Floréal 18, the celebration of the new religion being fixed for Prairial 20.

But the end of this system drew near. The committees opposed Robespierre in their own way. They secretly strove to bring about his fall by accusing him of tyranny.

Naturally sad, suspicious, and timid, he became more melancholy and mistrustful than ever. He even rose against the committee itself. On Thermidor 8 (July 25, 1794), he entered the Convention at an early hour. He ascended the tribunal, and denounced the committee in a most skilful speech. Not a murmur, not a mark of applause welcomed this declaration of war.

The members of the two committees thus attacked, who had hitherto remained silent, seeing the Mountain thwarted and the majority undecided, thought it time to speak. Vadier first opposed Robespierre's speech and then Robespierre himself. Cambon went further. The committees had also spent the night in deliberation. In this state of affairs the sitting of Thermidor 9 (July 27) began.

Robespierre, after attempting to speak several times, while his voice was drowned by cries of "Down with the tyrant!" and the bell which the president, Thuriot, continued ringing, now made a last effort to be heard. "President of assassins," he cried, "for the last time, will you let me speak?"

Said one of the Mountain: "The blood of Danton chokes you!" His arrest was demanded, and supported on all sides. It was now half-past five, and the sitting was suspended till seven. Robespierre was transferred to the Luxembourg. The commune, after having ordered the gaolers not to receive him, sent municipal officers with detachments to bring him away. Robespierre was liberated, and conducted in triumph to the Hôtel de Ville. On arriving, he was received with the greatest enthusiasm. "Long live Robespierre! Down with the traitors!" resounded on all sides. But the Convention marched upon the Hôtel de Ville.

The conspirators, finding they were lost, sought to escape the violence of their enemies by committing violence on themselves. Robespierre shattered his jaw with a pistol shot. He was deposited for some time at the Committee of Public Safety before he was transferred to the Conciergerie; and here, stretched on a table, his face disfigured and bloody, exposed to the looks, the invectives, the curses of all, he beheld the various parties exulting in his fall, and charging upon him all the crimes that had been committed.

On Thermidor 10, about five in the evening, he ascended the death-cart, placed between Henriot and Couthon, mutilated like himself. His head was enveloped in linen, saturated with blood; his face was livid, his eyes were almost visionless. An immense crowd thronged round the cart, manifesting the most boisterous and exulting joy. He ascended the scaffold last. When his head fell, shouts of applause arose in the air, and lasted for some minutes.

Thermidor 9 was the first day of the revolution it which those fell who attacked. This indication alone manifested that the ascendant revolutionary movement had reached its term. From that day the contrary movement necessarily began.

From Thermidor 9, 1794, to the summer of 1795, the radical Mountain, in its turn, underwent the destiny it had imposed on others--for in times when the passions are called into play parties know not how to come to terms, and seek only to conquer. From that period the middle class resumed the management of the revolution, and the experiment of pure democracy had failed.